The Canterbury Tales and Other Works of Chaucer (Middle English), part 2 of 2

Boece

Book 2

 Aftir this sche stynte a lytel; and after that
 sche hadde ygadrede by atempre stillenesse myn
 attencioun, she seyde thus (as who so myghte
 seyn thus: after thise thynges sche stynte a
 litil, and whan sche aperceyved by atempre
 stillenesse that I was ententyf to herkne hire,
 sche bygan to speke in this wyse): "If I," quod
 sche, "have undirstonden and knowen outrely
 the causes and the habyt of thy maladye,
10 thow languyssest and art desfeted for desir
 and talent of thi rather fortune. Sche (that
 ilke Fortune) oonly, that is chaunged, as
 thow feynest, to the-ward, hath perverted the
 cleernesse and the estat of thi corage. I
 undirstonde the felefolde colours and desceytes
 of thilke merveylous monstre Fortune and how
 sche useth ful flaterynge famylarite with hem
 that sche enforceth to bygyle, so longe, til that
 sche confounde with unsuffrable sorwe
20 hem that sche hath left in despeer unpurveied.
 And yif thou remembrest wel the
 kende, the maneris, and the desserte of thilke
 Fortune, thou shalt wel knowe that, as in hir,
 thow nevere ne haddest ne hast ylost any fair
 thyng. But, as I trowe, I schal nat greetly
 travailen to don the remembren on thise
 thynges. For thow were wont to hurtlen and
 despysen hir with manly woordes whan sche
 was blaundyssching and present, and
30 pursuydest hir with sentences that weren
 drawen out of myn entre (that is to seyn,
 of myn enformacioun). But no sodeyn mutacioun
 ne bytideth noght withouten a manere
 chaungynge of corages; and so is it byfallen
 that thou art a litil departed fro the pees of thi
 thought.
 "But now is tyme that thou drynke and ataste
 some softe and delitable thynges, so that whanne
 thei ben entred withynne the, it mowe
40 maken wey to strengere drynkes of medycines.
 Com now forth, therfore, the
 suasyoun of swetnesse rethorien, whiche that
 goth oonly the righte wey while sche forsaketh
 nat myn estatutz. And with Rethorice com forth
 Musice, a damoysele of our hous, that syngeth
 now lightere moedes or prolacions, now
 hevyere. What eyleth the, man? What is it that
 hath cast the into moornynge and into wepynge?
 I trow that thou hast seyn some newe thyng
50 and unkouth. Thou wenest that Fortune be
 chaunged ayens the; but thow wenest
 wrong (yif thou that wene): alway tho ben hir
 maneres. Sche hath rather kept, as to the-ward,
 hir propre stablenesse in the chaungynge of
 hirself. Ryght swiche was sche whan sche
 flateryd the and desseyved the with unleful
 lykynges of false welefulnesse. Thou hast now
 knowen and ateynt the doutous or double visage
 of thilke blynde goddesse Fortune. Sche,
60 that yit covereth and wympleth hir to other
 folk, hath schewyd hir every del to the. Yif
 thou approvest here (and thynkest that sche is
 good), use hir maneris and pleyne the nat; and
 yif thou agrisest hir false trecherie, despise and
 cast awey hir that pleyeth so harmfully. For sche,
 that is now cause of so mochel sorwe to the,
 sholde ben cause to the of pees and of joye. Sche
 hath forsaken the, forsothe, the whiche that
 nevere man mai ben siker that sche ne schal
70 forsaken hym. (Glose. But natheles some
 bookes han the texte thus: forsothe sche
 hath forsaken the, ne ther nys no man siker
 that sche ne hath nat forsake.) Holdestow
 thanne thilke welefulnesse precious to the, that
 schal passen? And is present Fortune dereworth
 to the, whiche that nys nat feithful for to duelle,
 and whan sche goth awey that sche bryngeth a
 wyght in sorwe? For syn she may nat ben
 withholden at a mannys wille, [and] sche
80 maketh hym a wrecche whan sche departeth
 fro hym, what other thyng is
 flyttynge Fortune but a maner schewynge of
 wrecchidnesse that is to comen? Ne it suffiseth
 nat oonly to loken on thyng that is present
 byforn the eien of a man; but wisdom loketh and
 mesureth the ende of thynges. And the same
 chaungynge from oon into another (that is to
 seyn, fro adversite into prosperite) maketh that
 the manaces of Fortune ne ben nat for to
90 dreden, ne the flaterynges of hir to ben
 desired. Thus, at the laste, it byhoveth the
 to suffren wyth evene wil in pacience al that is
 doon inwith the floor of Fortune (that is to seyn,
 in this world), syn thou hast oonys put thy nekke
 undir the yok of hir. For yif thow wilt writen a
 lawe of wendynge and of duellynge to Fortune,
 whiche that thow hast chosen frely to ben thi
 lady, artow nat wrongful in that, and makest
 Fortune wroth and aspre by thyn
100 inpacience? And yit thow mayst nat
 chaungen hir. Yif thou committest and
 betakest thi seyles to the wynd, thow schalt ben
 shoven, nat thider that thow woldest, but whider
 that the wynd schouveth the. Yif thow castest thi
 seedes in the feeldes, thou sholdest han in
 mynde that the yeres ben amonges, outherwhile
 plentevous and outherwhile bareyne. Thow hast
 bytaken thiself to the governaunce of Fortune
 and forthi it byhoveth the to ben obeisaunt
110 to the maneris of thi lady. Enforcestow the
 to aresten or withholden the swyftnesse
 and the sweighe of hir turnynge wheel? O thow
 fool of alle mortel foolis! Yif Fortune bygan to
 duelle stable, she cessede thanne to ben Fortune.
 "Whan Fortune with a proud ryght hand hath
 turned hir chaungynge stowndes, sche fareth
 lyke the maneres of the boylynge Eurippe.
 (Glosa. Eurippe is an arm of the see that ebbeth
 and floweth, and somtyme the streem is on
 o side, and somtyme on the tothir.) Textus.
 She, cruel Fortune, casteth adoun kynges that
 whilom weren ydradd; and sche, desceyvable,
 enhaunceth up the humble chere of hym
10 that is discounfited. Ne sche neither heereth
 ne rekketh of wrecchide wepynges; and
 she is so hard that sche leygheth and scorneth
 the wepynges of hem, the whiche sche hath
 maked wepe with hir free wille. Thus sche
 pleyeth, and thus sche prooeveth hir strengthes,
 and scheweth a greet wonder to alle hir servauntz
 yif that a wyght is seyn weleful and
 overthrowe in an houre.
 "Certes I wolde pleten with the a fewe
 thynges, usynge the woordes of Fortune. Tak
 hede now thyselve, yif that sche asketh ryght:
 `O thow man, wherfore makestow me gyltyf by
 thyne every dayes pleynynges? What wrong
 have I don the? What godes have I byreft the
 that weren thyne? Stryf or pleet with me byforn
 what juge that thow wolt of the possessioun
 of rychesses or of dignytees; and yif
10 thou maist schewen me that ever any mortel
 man hath resceyved ony of tho thynges
 to ben hise in propre, thanne wil I graunte freely
 that thilke thynges weren thyne whiche that
 thow axest.
 "Whan that nature brought the foorth out of
 thi modir wombe, I resceyved the nakid and
 nedy of alle thynges, and I norissched the with
 my richesses, and was redy and ententyf thurwe
 my favour to sustene the -- and that maketh
20 the now inpacient ayens me; and I
 envyrounde the with al the habundaunce
 and schynynge of alle goodes that ben in my
 ryght. Now it liketh me to withdrawe myn
 hand. Thow hast had grace as he that hath
 used of foreyne goodes; thow hast no ryght to
 pleyne the, as though thou haddest outrely
 forlorn alle thy thynges. Why pleynestow
 thanne? I have doon the no wrong. Richesses,
 honours, and swiche othere thinges ben of
30 my right. My servauntz knowen me for
 hir lady; they comen with me, and departen
 whan I wende. I dar wel affermen hardely
 that, yif tho thynges of whiche thow pleynest
 that thou hast forlorn [hem] hadden ben
 thyne, thow ne haddest nat lorn hem. Schal
 I thanne, oonly, be defended to usen my ryght?
 "Certes it is leveful to the hevene to maken
 clere dayes, and after that to coveren tho same
 dayes with dirke nyghtes. The yeer hath
40 eek leve to apparaylen the visage of the
 erthe, now with floures, and now with
 fruyt, and to confownden hem somtyme with
 reynes and with coldes. The see hath eek his
 ryght to ben somtyme calm and blaundysschyng
 with smothe watir, and somtyme to ben
 horrible with wawes and with tempestes. But
 the covetise of men, that mai nat be stawnched
 -- schal it bynde me to ben stedfast, syn that
 stidfastnesse is uncouth to my maneris?
50 Swiche is my strengthe, and this pley
 I pleye continuely. I torne the whirlynge
 wheel with the turnynge sercle; I am glad to
 chaungen the loweste to the heyeste, and the
 heyeste to the loweste. Worth up yif thow
 wolt, so it be by this lawe, that thow ne holde
 nat that I do the wroong, though thow descende
 adown whan the resoun of my pley axeth it.
 Wystestow nat how Cresus, kyng of Lydyens,
 of whiche kyng Cirus was ful sore agast a
60 lytil byforn -- that this rewliche Cresus
 was caught of Cirus and lad to the fyer to
 ben brend; but that a rayn descendede down
 fro hevene that rescowyde hym? And is it out
 of thy mynde how that Paulus, consul of Rome,
 whan he had taken the kyng of Percyens, weep
 pitously for the captivyte of the selve kyng?
 What other thynge bywaylen the cryinges of
 tragedyes but oonly the dedes of Fortune, that
 with an unwar strook overturneth the
70 realmes of greet nobleye? (Glose. Tragedye
 is to seyn a dite of a prosperite for a
 tyme, that endeth in wrecchidnesse.) Lernedest
 nat thow in Greek whan thow were yong, that
 in the entre or in the seler of Juppiter ther ben
 cowched two tonnes, the toon is ful of good,
 and the tother is ful of harm? What ryght
 hastow to pleyne, yif thou hast taken more
 plentevously of the gode side (that is to seyn,
 of my richesses and prosperites)? And
80 what ek yif Y ne be nat al departed fro
 the? What eek yif my mutabilite yeveth
 the ryghtful cause of hope to han yit bettere
 thynges? Natheles dismaye the nat in thi
 thought; and thow that art put in the comune
 realme of alle, desire nat to lyven by thyn oonly
 propre ryght.
 "Though Plente that is goddesse of rychesses
 hielde adoun with ful horn, and withdraweth
 nat hir hand, as many richesses as the
 see torneth upward sandes whan it is moeved
 with ravysshynge blastes, or elles as manye
 rychesses as ther schynen bryghte sterres in
 hevene on the sterry nyghtes; yit, for al that,
 mankende nolde nat cese to wepe wrecchide
 pleyntes. And al be it so that God resceyveth
10 gladly hir preiers, and yyveth hem, as
 fool-large, moche gold, and apparayleth
 coveytous folk with noble or cleer honours;
 yit semeth hem haven igeten nothyng, but
 alwey hir cruel ravyne, devourynge al that
 they han geten, scheweth othere gapynges (that
 is to seyn, gapyn and desiren yit after mo rychesses).
 What brydles myghte withholden to
 any certeyn ende the disordene covetise of
 men, whan evere the rather that it fletith
20 in large yiftes, the more ay brenneth in
 hem the thurst of havynge? Certes he that
 qwakynge and dredful weneth hymselven
 nedy, he ne lyveth nevermo ryche.
 "Therfore, yif that Fortune spake with the
 for hirself in this manere, forsothe thow ne
 haddest noght what thou myghtest answere.
 And yif thow hast any thyng wherwith thow
 mayst rightfully defenden thi compleynte, it
 behoveth the to schewen it, and I wol yyve
 the space to tellen it."
 "Serteynly," quod I thanne, "thise ben faire
 thynges and enoynted with hony swetnesse
10 of Rethorik and Musike; and oonly
 whil thei ben herd thei ben delycious, but
 to wrecches is a deppere felyng of harm
 (this is to seyn, that wrecches felen the harmes
 that thei suffren more grevously than the remedies
 or the delites of thise wordes mowen gladen
 or conforten hem). So that, whanne thise
 thynges stynten for to soune in eris, the sorwe
 that es inset greveth the thought."
 "Right so is it," quod sche. "For thise ne
20 ben yit none remedies of thy maladye, but
 they ben a maner norisschynges of thi
 sorwe, yit rebel ayen thi curacioun. For whan
 that tyme is, I schal moeve and ajuste swiche
 thynges that percen hemselve depe. But natheles
 that thow schalt noght wilne to leten thiself
 a wrecche, hastow foryeten the nowmbre
 and the maner of thi welefulnesse? I holde
 me stille how that the sovereyn men of the
 cite token the in cure and in kepynge,
30 whan thow were orphelyn of fadir and of
 modir, and were chose in affynite of
 prynces of the cite; and thow bygonne rather
 to ben leef and deere than for to been a
 neyghebour, the whiche thyng is the moste
 precyous kende of any propinquyte or alliaunce
 that mai ben. Who is it that ne seide tho that
 thow neere right weleful, with so gret a nobleye
 of thi fadres-in-lawe, and with the chastete
 of thy wyf, and with the oportunyte
40 and noblesse of thyne masculyn children
 (that is to seyn, thy sones)? And over al this
 me list to passen of comune thynges, how
 thow haddest in thy youthe dignytees that
 weren wernd to oolde men; but it deliteth
 me to comen now to the synguler uphepynge
 of thi welefulnesse. Yif any fruyt of mortel
 thynges mai han any weyghte or pris of welefulnesse,
 myghtestow evere forgeten, for any
 charge of harm that myghte byfalle the, remembraunce
50 of thilke day that thow seye
 thi two sones maked conseileris and iladde
 togidre fro thyn hous under so greet assemble
 of senatours and under the blithnesse of peple,
 and whan thow saye hem set in the court in
 hir chayeres of dignytes? Thow, rethorien or
 pronouncere of kynges preysynges, desservedest
 glorie of wit and of eloquence whan thow, syttynge
 bytwixen thi two sones conseylers, in the
 place that highte Circo, fulfildest the abydynge
60 of the multitude of peple that was
 sprad abouten the with so large preysynge
 and laude as men syngen in victories. Tho
 yave thow woordes to Fortune, as I trowe, (that
 is to seyn, tho feffedestow Fortune with glosynge
 wordes and desceyvedest hir) whan sche
 accoyede the and norysside the as hir owne
 delices. Thow bare awey of Fortune a yifte
 (that is to seye, swich guerdoun) that sche
 nevere yaf to prive man. Wiltow therfore
70 leye a reknynge with Fortune? Sche hath
 now twynkled first upon the with a wikkid
 eye. If thow considere the nowmbre and the
 maner of thy blisses and of thy sorwes, thow
 mayst noght forsaken that thow nart yit blisful.
 For yif thou therfore wenest thiself nat
 weleful, for thynges that tho semeden joyeful
 ben passed, ther nys nat why thow sholdest
 wene thiself a wrecche; for thynges that semen
 now sory passen also. Artow now comen
80 first, a sodeyn gest, into the schadowe or
 tabernacle of this lif? Or trowestow that
 any stedfastnesse be in mannes thynges, whan
 ofte a swyft hour dissolveth the same man (that
 is to seyn, whan the soule departeth fro the
 body)? For although that zelde is ther any
 feith that fortunous thynges wollen dwellen,
 yet natheles the laste day of a mannes lif is
 a maner deth to Fortune, and also to thilke
 that hath dwelt. And therfore what wenestow
90 dar rekke, yif thow forleete hir in
 deyinge, or elles that sche, Fortune, forleete awey?
 "Whan Phebus, the sonne, bygynneth to
 spreden his clernesse with rosene chariettes,
 thanne the sterre, ydymmed, paleth hir white
 cheeres by the flambes of the sonne that overcometh
 the sterre lyght. (This to seyn, whan
 the sonne is rysen, the day-sterre waxeth pale,
 and leeseth hir lyght for the grete bryghtnesse
 of the sonne.) Whan the wode waxeth rody
 of rosene floures in the fyrst somer sesoun
10 thurw the breeth of the wynd Zephirus that
 waxeth warm, yif the cloudy wynd Auster
 blowe felliche, than goth awey the fairnesse
 of thornes. Ofte the see is cleer and calm
 without moevynge flodes, and ofte the horrible
 wynd Aquylon moeveth boylynge tempestes,
 and overwhelveth the see. Yif the forme
 of this world is so zeeld stable, and yif it torneth
 by so manye entrechaungynges, wiltow
 thanne trusten in the tumblenge fortunes of
20 men? Wiltow trowen on flyttynge goodes?
 It is certeyn and establissched by lawe perdurable,
 that nothyng that is engendred nys
 stedfast ne stable."
 Thanne seide I thus: "O norysshe of alle vertues,
 thou seist ful sooth; ne I mai noght forsake
 the ryght swyfte cours of my prosperite
 (that is to seyn, that prosperite ne be comen
 to me wonder swyftli and sone); but this is a
 thyng that greetly smerteth me whan it remembreth
 me. For in alle adversites of fortune
 the moost unzeely kynde of contrarious
 fortune is to han ben weleful."
10 "But that thow," quod sche, "abyest thus
 the torment of thi false opynioun, that
 maistow nat ryghtfully blamen ne aretten to
 thynges. (As who seith, for thow hast yit
 manye habundances of thynges.) Textus. For
 al be it so that the ydel name of aventuros
 welefulnesse moeveth the now, it is leveful that
 thow rekne with me of how many grete thynges
 thow hast yit plente. And therfore yif that
 thilke thyng that thow haddest for moost
20 precyous in al thy rychesse of fortune be
 kept to the yit by the grace of God unwemmed
 and undefouled, maistow thanne
 pleyne ryghtfully upon the mescheef of Fortune,
 syn thow hast yit thi beste thynges?
 Certes yit lyveth in good poynt thilke precyous
 honour of mankynde, Symacus, thi wyves fader,
 whiche that is a man maked al of sapience and
 of vertu, the whiche man thow woldest byen
 redyly with the pris of thyn owene lif. He
30 bywayleth the wronges that men don to
 the, and nat for hymself; for he lyveth in
 sikernesse of anye sentences put ayens hym.
 And yit lyveth thi wyf, that is atempre of wyt
 and passynge othere wommen in clennesse of
 chastete; and, for I wol closen schortly hir
 bountes, sche is lyk to hir fadir. I telle the wel
 that sche lyveth, loth of this lyf, and kepeth
 to the oonly hir goost, and is al maat and overcomen
 by wepynge and sorwe for desir of
40 the; in the whiche thyng oonly I moot
 graunten that thi welefulnesse is amenused.
 What schal I seyn eek of thi two sones conseylours,
 of whiche, as of children of hir age,
 ther shyneth the liknesse of the wit of hir fadir
 or of hir eldefader! And syn the sovereyne
 cure of al mortel folk is to saven hir owene
 lyves, O how weleful artow, if thow knowe
 thy goodes! For yit ben ther thynges dwelled
 to the-ward that no man douteth that they
50 ne be more derworthe to the than thyn
 owene lif. And forthy drye thi teeris, for
 yit nys nat every fortune al hateful to theward,
 ne overgreet tempest hath nat yit fallen
 upon the, whan that thyne ancres clyven faste,
 that neither wolen suffren the counfort of this
 tyme present ne the hope of tyme comyng to
 passen ne to faylen."
 "And I preie," quod I, "that faste mote thei
 halden; for, whiles that thei halden, how so
60 evere that thynges been, I shal wel fleetyn
 forth and escapyn: but thou mayst wel seen
 how grete apparailes and array that me lakketh,
 that ben passed awey fro me."
 "I have somwhat avaunced and forthred
 the," quod sche, "yif that thow anoye nat, or
 forthynke nat of al thy fortune. (As who seith,
 I have somwhat conforted the, so that thou
 tempeste the nat thus with al thy fortune, syn
 thow hast yit thy beste thynges.) But I mai
70 nat suffren thi delices, that pleynest the so
 wepynge and angwysschous for that ther
 lakketh somwhat to thy welefulnesse. For what
 man is so sad or of so parfite welefulnesse, that
 he ne stryveth and pleyneth on some halfe
 ayen the qualite of his estat? Forwhy ful anguysschous
 thing is the condicioun of mannes
 goodes; for eyther it cometh nat altogidre to
 a wyght, or elles it ne last nat perpetuel. For
 som man hath gret rychesse, but he is
80 aschamed of his ungentil lynage; and som
 man is renomyd of noblesse of kynrede, but
 he is enclosed in so greet angwyssche of nede
 of thynges that hym were levere that he were
 unknowe; and som man haboundeth bothe in
 rychesse and noblesse, but yit he bewayleth his
 chaste lyf, for he ne hath no wyf; and som man
 is wel and zelily ymaried, but he hath no children,
 and norissheth his rychesses to the eyres
 of straunge folk; and som man is gladed
90 with children, but he wepeth ful sory for
 the trespas of his sone or of his doughter.
 And for this ther ne accordeth no wyght lyghtly
 to the condicioun of his fortune; for alwey to
 every man ther is in somwhat that, unassayed,
 he ne woot nat, or elles he dredeth that he hath
 assaied. And adde this also, that every weleful
 man hath a ful delicaat feelynge; so that, but
 yif alle thynges byfalle at his owene wil, for
 he is inpacient or is nat used to have noon
100 adversite, anoon he is throwen adoun for
 every litil thyng. And ful litel thynges ben
 tho that withdrawen the somme or the perfeccioun
 of blisfulnesse fro hem that been most
 fortunat. How manye men trowestow wolde
 demen hemself to ben almoste in hevene, yif
 thei myghten atayne to the leste partye of the
 remenaunt of thi fortune? This same place
 that thow clepest exil is contre to hem that
 enhabiten here, and forthi nothyng [is.
110 wrecchide but whan thou wenest it. (As
 who seith, thow thiself ne no wyght elles
 nis a wrecche but whanne he weneth hymself
 a wrechche by reputacion of his corage.) And
 ayenward, alle fortune is blisful to a man by
 the aggreablete or by the egalyte of hym that
 suffreth it. What man is that that is so weleful
 that nolde chaunge his estat whan he hath lost
 pacience? The swetnesse of mannes welefulnesse
 is spraynd with many bitternesses;
120 the whiche welefulnesse although it seme
 swete and joieful to hym that useth it, yit
 mai it nat ben withholden that it ne goth awey
 whan it wole. Thanne is it wele seene how
 wrecchid is the blisfulnesse of mortel thynges,
 that neyther it dureth perpetuel with hem that
 every fortune resceyven agreablely or egaly, ne
 it deliteth nat in al to hem that ben angwyssous.
 "O ye mortel folk, what seeke ye thanne blisfulnesse
 out of yourself whiche that is put
130 in yowrself? Errour and folie confoundeth
 yow. I schal schewe the schortly the
 poynt of soverayn blisfulnesse. Is there anythyng
 more precyous to the than thiself? Thow
 wolt answere, `nay.' Thanne, yif it so be that
 thow art myghty over thyself (that is to seyn,
 by tranquillite of thi soule), than hastow thyng
 in thi powere that thow noldest nevere leesen,
 ne Fortune may nat bynymen it the. And that
 thow mayst knowe that blisfulnesse ne mai
140 nat standen in thynges that ben fortunous
 and temporel, now undirstond and gadere
 it togidre thus: yif blisfulnesse be the soverayn
 good of nature that lyveth by resoun,
 ne thilke thyng nys nat soverayn good that
 may ben taken awey in any wise (for more
 worthy thyng and more dygne is thilke thyng
 that mai nat ben take awey); than scheweth
 it wel that the unstablenesse of fortune may
 nat atayne to resceyven verray blisfulnesse.
150 And yit more over, what man that this
 towmblynge welefulnesse ledeth, eyther
 he woot that it is chaungeable, or elles he woot
 it nat. And yif he woot it nat, what blisful
 fortune may ther ben in the blyndnesse of ignoraunce?
 And yif he woot that it is chaungeable,
 he mot alwey ben adrad that he ne lese
 that thyng that he ne douteth nat but that he
 may leesen it (as who seith he mot bien alwey
 agast lest he lese that he woot wel he may
160 lese it); for whiche the contynuel drede that
 he hath ne suffreth hym nat to ben weleful --
 or elles yif he lese it he weneth to ben
 despised and forleten. Certes eek that is a
 ful litel good that is born with evene herte
 whan it es lost (that is to seyn, that men do no
 more force of the lost than of the havynge).
 And for as moche as thow thiself art he to
 whom it hath be [sewed] and proved by ful
 many demonstracyons, as I woot wele that
170 the soules of men ne mowen nat deyen in
 no wyse; and ek syn it es cleer and certeyn
 that fortunous welefulnesse endeth by the deth
 of the body; it mai nat be douted that, yif that
 deth may take awey blisfulnesse, that al the
 kynde of mortel thyng ne descendeth into
 wrecchidnesse by the ende of the deth. And
 syn we knowe wel that many a man hath
 sought the fruyt of blysfulnesse, nat oonly with
 suffrynge of deeth, but eek with suffrynge
180 of peynes and tormentz, how myghte
 thanne this present lif make men blisful,
 syn that whanne thilke selve lif es ended it
 ne maketh folk no wrechches?
 "What maner man stable and war, that wol
 fownden hym a perdurable seete, and ne wol
 noght ben cast doun with the lowde blastes of
 the wynd Eurus, and wole despise the see
 manasynge with flodes; lat hym eschuwen to
 bilde on the cop of the mountaigne, or in the
 moyste sandes; for the felle wynd Auster tormenteth
 the cop of the mountaigne with alle
 hise strengthes, and the lause sandes refusen
10 to beren the hevy weyghte. And
 forthi, yif thow wolt fleen the perilous
 aventure (that is to seyn, of the werld) have
 mynde certeynly to fycchen thin hous of a
 myrie sete in a low stoon. For although the
 wynd troublynge the see thondre with overthrowynges,
 thou, that art put in quiete and
 weleful by strengthe of thi palys, schalt leden
 a cler age, scornynge the woodnesses and the
 ires of the eyr.
 "But for as mochel as the norisschynges of
 my resouns descenden now into the, I trowe it
 were tyme to usen a litel strengere medicynes.
 Now undirstand heere; al were it so that the
 yiftes of Fortune ne were noght brutel ne transitorie,
 what is ther in hem that mai be thyn
 in any tyme, or elles that it nys fowl, yif that
 it be considered and lookyd parfitely? Richesses
 ben they preciouse by the nature of hemself,
10 or elles by the nature of the? What is
 most worth of rychesses? Is it nat gold or
 myght of moneye assembled? Certes thilke
 gold and thilke moneye schyneth and yeveth
 bettre renoun to hem that dispenden it than
 to thilke folk that mokeren it; for avaryce maketh
 alwey mokereres to ben hated, and largesse
 maketh folk cleer of renoun. For, syn that
 swiche thyng as is transferred fro o man to an
 othir ne may nat duellen with no man,
20 certes thanne is thilke moneye precyous
 whan it is translated into other folk and
 stynteth to ben had by usage of large yyvynge
 of hym that hath yeven it. And also yif al the
 moneye that is overal in the world were gadryd
 toward o man, it scholde make alle othere men
 to be nedy as of that. And certes a voys al hool
 (that is to seyn, withouten amenusynge) fulfilleth
 togydre the herynge of moche folk. But
 certes your rychesses ne mowen noght
30 passen unto moche folk withouten amenusynge;
 and whan they ben apassed, nedes
 they maken hem pore that forgoon tho rychesses.
 O streyte and nedy clepe I this richesse,
 syn that many folk ne mai nat han it al, ne al
 mai it nat comen to o man withoute povert
 of alle othere folk. And the schynynge of
 gemmes (that I clepe precyous stones) draweth
 it nat the eighen of folk to hem-ward (that
 is to seyn, for the beautes)? But certes, yif
40 ther were beaute or bountee in the schynynge
 of stones, thilke clernesse is of the
 stones hemselve, and nat of men; for whiche I
 wondre gretly that men merveylen on swiche
 thynges. Forwhi what thyng is it that, yif it
 wanteth moevynge and joynture of soule and
 body, that by right myghte semen a fair creature
 to hym that hath a soule of resoun? For
 al be it so that gemmes drawen to hemself a
 litel of the laste beaute of the world thurw
50 the entente of hir creatour and thurw the
 distinccioun of hemself, yit, for as mochel
 as thei ben put under yowr excellence, thei ne
 han nat desserved by no way that ye schulde
 merveylen on hem. And the beaute of feeldes,
 deliteth it nat mochel unto yow?"
 Boece. "Why schulde it nat deliten us, syn
 that it is a [fayr] porcioun of the ryght fair
 werk (that is to seyn, of this worlde)? And
 right so ben we gladed somtyme of the
60 face of the see whan it es cleer; and also
 merveylen we on the hevene, and on the
 sterres, and on the sonne, and on the moone."
 Philosophie. "Aperteneth," quod sche, "any
 of thilke thynges to the? Why darstow glorifye
 the in the shynynge of any swiche thynges?
 Artow distyngwed and embelysed by the
 spryngynge floures of the first somer sesoun,
 or swelleth thi plente in fruites of somer? Whi
 artow ravyssched with idel joies? Why enbracest
70 thow straunge goodes as they weren
 thyne? Fortune ne schal nevere maken that
 swiche thynges ben thyne that nature of thynges
 hath maked foreyne fro the. Soth is that, withouten
 doute, the fruites of the erthe owen to
 be to the noryssynge of beestis; and yif thow
 wilt fulfille thyn nede after that it suffiseth to
 nature, thanne is it no nede that thow seke
 aftir the superfluyte of fortune. For [with]
 fewe thynges and with ful litel thynges nature
80 halt hir apayed; and yif thow wolt
 achoken the fulfillynge of nature with superfluytees,
 certes thilke thynges that thow
 wolt thresten or powren into nature schulle
 ben unjoyeful to the, or elles anoyous. Wenestow
 eek that it be a fair thyng to schyne with
 diverse clothynge? Of whiche clothynge yif the
 beaute be aggreable to loken uppon, I wol
 merveylen on the nature of the matiere of
 thilke clothes, or elles on the werkman that
90 wroughte hem. But also a long route of
 meyne, maketh that a blisful man? The
 whiche servantz yif thei ben vicyous of condyciouns,
 it is a gret charge and a destruccioun
 to the hous, and a gret enemy to the lord hymself;
 and yif they ben gode men, how schal
 straunge or foreyne goodnesse ben put in the
 nowmbre of thi richesse? So that by alle thise
 forseide thynges it es cleerly schewed, that nevere
 oon of thilke thynges that thou acountedest
100 for thyne goodes nas nat thi good.
 "In the whiche thynges yif ther be no
 beaute to ben desired, why scholdestow ben sory
 yif thou leese hem, or whi scholdestow rejoysen
 the for to holden hem? For yif thei ben faire
 of hir owene kynde, what aperteneth that to
 the? For al so wel scholde they han ben fayre
 by hemselve, though thei were departed fro
 alle thyne rychesses. Forwhy fair ne precyous
 were thei nat for that thei comen among
110 thi rychesses; but for they semeden fair
 and precyous, therfore thou haddest levere
 rekne hem among thi rychesses. But what
 desirestow of Fortune with so greet a noyse
 and with so greet [affraie]? I trowe thou seeke
 to dryve awey nede with habundaunce of
 thynges, but certes it turneth to you al in the
 contrarie. Forwhy certes it nedeth of ful manye
 helpynges to kepyn the diversite of precious
 ostelementz; and sooth it es that of many
120 thynges han they nede, that many thynges
 han; and ayenward of litel nedeth hem
 that mesuren hir fille after the nede of kynde,
 and nat after the oultrage of covetyse.
 "Is it thanne so, that ye men ne han no propre
 good iset in yow, for whiche ye mooten seke
 outward your goodes in foreyne and subgit
 thynges? So is thanne the condicion of thynges
 turned up-so-doun, that a man, that is a devyne
 beest be meryte of his resoun, thynketh
130 that hymself nys neyther fair ne noble but
 yif it be thurw possessioun of ostelementz
 that ne han no soules. And certes alle othere
 thynges ben apayed of hir owene beautes, but ye
 men that ben semlable to God by yowr
 resonable thought, desiren to apparailen your
 excellent kynde of the loweste thynges; ne ye
 undirstanden nat how greet a wrong ye don to
 your creatour. For he wolde that mankynde
 were moost wurthy and noble of any
140 othere erthly thynges, and ye thresten
 adoun yowre dignytes bynethen the loweste
 thynges. For yif that al the good of every
 thyng be more precyous than is thilke thyng
 whos that the good es, syn ye demen that the
 fowleste thynges ben your goodes, thanne
 submitten ye and putten yourselven undir the
 fouleste thynges by your estimacioun; and certes
 this betydeth nat withouten your desert. For
 certes swiche is the condicioun of alle mankynde,
150 that oonly whan it hath knowynge
 of itself, thanne passeth it in noblesse alle
 othere thynges; and whan it forletith the
 knowynge of itself, thanne is it brought
 bynethen alle beestes. Forwhi alle othere lyvynge
 beestes han of kynde to knowe nat hemself;
 but whan that men leeten the knowynge
 of hemself, it cometh hem of vice. But
 how broode scheweth the errour and the folie of
 yow men, that wenen that anythyng mai
160 ben apparailed with straunge apparailementz!
 But forsothe that mai nat be done.
 For yif a wyght schyneth with thynges that
 ben put to hym (as thus, yif thilke thynges
 schynen with whiche a man is aparayled),
 certes thilke thynges ben comended and preysed
 with whiche he is apparayled; but natheles, the
 thyng that is covered and wrapped under that
 duelleth in his felthe.
 "And I denye that thilke thyng be good
170 that anoyeth hym that hath it. Gabbe I of
 this? Thow wolt sey `nay.' Sertes rychesses
 han anoyed ful ofte hem that han tho rychesses,
 syn that every wikkide schrewe -- and for his
 wikkidnesse the more gredy aftir othir folkes
 rychesses, wher so evere it be in ony place, be
 it gold or precyous stones -- [weneth. hym
 oonly most worthy that hath hem. Thow thanne,
 that so bysy dredest now the swerd and the
 spere, yif thou haddest entred in the path
180 of this lif a voyde weyfarynge man, thanne
 woldestow syngen byfor the theef. (As
 who seith, a pore man that bereth no rychesse
 on hym by the weie may boldely synge byforn
 theves, for he hath nat whereof to be robbed.)
 O precyous and ryght cleer is the blisfulnesse of
 mortel rychesses, that, whan thow hast geten it,
 thanne hastow lorn thi sekernesse!
 "Blisful was the firste age of men. They
 heelden hem apayed with the metes that the
 trewe feeldes broughten forth. They ne destroyeden
 ne desseyvede nat hemself with outrage.
 They weren wont lyghtly to slaken hir
 hungir at even with accornes of ookes. They
 ne coude nat medle the yift of Bachus to the
 cleer hony (that is to seyn, they coude make
 no pyement or clarree), ne they coude nat
10 medle the bryghte fleezes of the contre of
 Seryens with the venym of Tyrie (this
 to seyn, thei coude nat deyen white fleezes
 of Syrien contre with the blood of a maner
 schellefyssche that men fynden in Tirie, with
 whiche blood men deyen purpre). They
 slepen holsome slepes uppon the gras, and
 dronken of the rennynge watres, and layen
 undir the schadwes of the heye pyn-trees. Ne
 no gest ne straunger ne karf yit the heye
20 see with oores or with schipes; ne thei ne
 hadden seyn yit none newe stroondes to
 leden marchandise into diverse contrees. Tho
 weren the cruele claryouns ful hust and ful
 stille. Ne blood ischad by egre hate ne hadde
 nat deyed yit armures. For wherto or which
 woodnesse of enemys wolde first moeven
 armes whan thei seyen cruele wowndes, ne
 none medes be of blood ischad? I wolde that
 our tymes sholde torne ayen to the oolde
30 maneris! But the anguysschous love of
 havynge brenneth in folk more cruely than
 the fyer of the mountaigne of Ethna that ay
 brenneth. Allas! What was he that first dalf
 up the gobbettes or the weyghtes of gold covered
 undir erthe and the precyous stones that
 wolden han be hydd? He dalf up precious
 periles. (That is to seyn, that he that hem
 firsst up dalf, he dalf up a precious peril;
 for-why, for the preciousnesse of swich
40 thyng hath many man ben in peril.)
 "But what schal I seye of dignytes and of
 powers, the whiche ye men, that neither
 knowen verray dignyte ne verray powere,
 areysen hem as heyghe as the hevene? The
 whiche dignytees and poweres yif thei comen
 to any wikkid man, thei doon as greet damages
 and destrucciouns as dooth. the flaumbe
 of the mountaigne Ethna whan the flaumbe
 walweth up, ne no deluge ne doth so cruele
10 harmes. Certes the remembreth wel, as I
 trowe, that thilke dignyte that men clepyn
 the imperie of consulers, the whiche that
 whilom was begynnynge of fredom, yowr eldres
 coveyteden to han don awey that dignyte for
 the pride of the consulers. And ryght for the
 same pride yowr eldres byforn that tyme hadden
 doon awey out of the cite of Rome the
 kynges name (that is to seyn, thei nolden han
 no lengere no kyng).
20 "But now, if so be that dignytees and poweris
 ben yyven to gode men, the whiche
 thyng is ful zelde, what aggreable thynges is
 ther in tho dignytees or powers but oonly the
 goodnesse of folk that usen hem? And therfore
 it is thus that honour ne cometh nat to
 vertu for cause of dygnite, but, ayenward, honour
 cometh to dignyte for cause of vertu. But
 whiche is thilke your derworthe power that is
 so cleer and so requerable? O, ye erthliche
30 bestes, considere ye nat over whiche thyng
 that it semeth that ye han power? Now yif
 thou saye a mows among othere mysz that chalanged
 to hymself-ward ryght and power over
 alle othere mysz, how gret scorn woldestow han
 of it! (Glosa. So fareth it by men [that the
 wikkid men have power over the wikkid men;
 that is to seye], the body hath power over the
 body.) For yif thou looke wel upon the body of
 a wyght, what thyng schaltow fynde more
40 freele than is mankynde; the whiche men
 ful ofte ben slayn with bytynge of smale
 flyes, or elles with the entrynge of crepynge
 wormes into the pryvetees of mannes body?
 But wher schal men fynden any man that mai
 exercen or haunten any ryght upon another
 man, but oonly on his body, or elles upon
 thynges that ben lowere than the body, the
 whiche I clepe fortunous possessiouns? Maystow
 evere have any comaundement over a free
50 corage? Maystowe remuwen fro the estat
 of his propre reste a thought that is
 clyvynge togidre in hymself by stedfast resoun?
 As whilom a tyraunt wende to confownde a fre
 man of corage, and wende to constreyne hym by
 torment to maken hym discoveren and accusen
 folk that wisten of a conjuracioun (which I clepe
 a confederacye) that was cast ayens this tyraunt;
 but this fre man boot of his owene tonge, and
 caste it in the visage of thilk wode tyraunt.
60 So that the tormentz that this tyraunt
 wende to han maked matere of cruelte, this
 wise man maked it matere of vertu. But what
 thing is it that a man may doon to an other man,
 that he ne may resceyven the same thyng of
 other folk in hymself? (Or thus: what may a
 man don to folk, that folk ne may don hym
 the same?) I have herd told of Busyrides, that
 was wont to sleen his gestes that herberweden
 in his hous, and he was slayn hymself of
70 Ercules that was his gest. Regulus hadde
 taken in bataile manye men of Affryke
 and cast hem into feteres, but sone after he
 most yyve hise handes to ben bownde with
 the cheynes of hem that he hadde whilom
 overcomen. Wenestow thanne that he be
 myghty that hath no power to doon a thyng that
 othere ne mai doon in hym that he doth in
 othere?
 "And yit moreover, yif it so were that
80 thise dygnytes or poweris hadden any
 propre or naturel goodnesse in hemself,
 nevere nolde they comen to schrewes. For
 contrarious thynges ne ben nat wont to ben
 ifelaschiped togydre. Nature refuseth that contrarious
 thynges ben ijoygned. And so, as I am
 in certeyn that ryght wykkyd folk han
 dignytees ofte tyme, thanne scheweth it wel that
 dignytees and poweres ne ben nat gode of
 hir owene kynde, syn that they suffren
90 hemselve to cleven or joynen hem to
 schrewes. And certes the same thyng mai I
 most digneliche juggen and seyn of alle the
 yiftes of Fortune that most plentevously comen
 to schrewes. Of the whiche yiftes I trowe that it
 oughte ben considered, that no man douteth that
 he ne is strong in whom he seeth strengthe; and
 in whom that swyftnesse is, sooth it is that he
 is swyft; also musyke maketh mucisyens, and
 phisyk maketh phisicyeens, and rethoryke,
100 rethoriens. Forwhy the nature of every
 thyng maketh his proprete, ne it is nat
 entremedlyd with the effectz of contrarious
 thynges, and as of wil it chaseth out thynges that
 to it ben contrarie. But certes rychesse mai nat
 restreyne avarice unstaunched; ne power ne
 maketh nat a man myghty over hymselve,
 whiche that vicyous lustes holden destreyned
 with cheynes that ne mowen nat ben
 unbownden. And dignytees that ben yyven
110 to schrewide folk nat oonly ne maketh hem
 nat digne, but it scheweth rather al opynly
 that they been unworthy and undigne. And whi
 is it thus? Certes for ye han joie to clepen
 thynges with false names, that beren hem al in
 the contrarie; the whiche names ben ful [ethe]
 reproved by the effect of the same thynges; so
 that thise ilke rychesses ne oughten nat by ryghte
 to ben cleped rychesses, ne swyche power ne
 aughte nat ben clepyd power, ne swiche
120 dignyte ne aughte nat ben clepyd dignyte.
 And at the laste, I may conclude the same
 thyng of alle the yyftes of Fortune, in whiche
 ther nys nothyng to ben desired, ne that hath in
 hymselve naturel bownte, as it es ful wel yseene.
 For neither thei ne joygnen hem nat alwey to
 gode men, ne maken hem alwey gode to whom
 they been ijoyned.
 "We han wel knowen how many grete harmes
 and destrucciouns weren idoon by the emperour
 Nero. He leet brennen the cite of Rome,
 and made sleen the senatours; and he cruel
 whilom sloughe his brothir, and he was maked
 moyst with the blood of his modir (that is to
 seyn, he leet sleen and slitten the body of his
 modir to seen wher he was conceyved); and he
 lookede on every halve uppon hir cold
10 deed body, ne no teer ne wette his face,
 but he was so hardherted that he myghte
 ben domesman or juge of hir dede beaute. And
 natheles yit governed this Nero by septre alle
 the peples that Phebus, the sonne, may seen,
 comynge fro his uttreste arysynge til he hide
 his bemes undir the wawes. (That is to seyn
 he governede al the peples by ceptre imperial
 that the sonne goth aboute from est to west.)
 And ek this Nero governyde by ceptre alle
20 the peples that ben undir the colde sterres
 that highten the septemtryones. (This is
 to seyn he governede alle the peples that ben
 under the partye of the north.) And eek Nero
 governede alle the peples that the vyolent
 wynd Nothus scorklith, and baketh the brennynge
 sandes by his drye heete (that is to seyn,
 al the peples in the south). But yit ne myghte
 nat al his heie power torne the woodnesse of
 this wikkid Nero? Allas! It is grevous fortune
30 as ofte as wikkid sweerd is joyned to
 cruel venym (that is to seyn, venymows
 cruelte to lordschipe)."
 Thanne seyde I thus: "Thow woost wel thiselve
 that the covetise of mortel thynges ne
 hadde nevere lordschipe of me, but I have wel
 desired matere of thynges to done (as who
 seith, I desirede to have matiere of governaunce
 over comunalites), for vertue stille sholde nat
 elden (that is to seyn, that list that or he
 waxe oold, his vertu, that lay now ful stille, ne
 schulde nat perysshe unexercised in
10 governaunce of comune, for whiche men
 myghten speken or wryten of his gode
 governement)."
 Philosophie. "For sothe," quod sche, "and
 that is [o] thyng that mai drawen to governaunce
 swiche hertes as ben worthy and noble of hir
 nature, but natheles it may nat drawen or tollen
 swiche hertes as ben ibrought to the ful perfeccioun
 of vertue; that is to seyn, covetise of
 glorie and renoun to han wel adminystred
20 the comune thynges, or doon gode desertes
 to profyt of the comune. For see now
 and considere how litel and how voyde of alle
 prys is thylk glorye. Certeyn thyng es, as thou
 hast leerned by the demonstracioun of astronomye,
 that al the envyrounynge of the erthe
 aboute ne halt but the resoun of a prykke at
 regard of the gretnesse of hevene; that is to
 seyn that, yif ther were maked comparysoun of
 the erthe to the gretnesse of hevene, men
30 wolde juggen in al that the erthe ne heelde
 no space. Of the whiche litel regioun of
 this world, the ferthe partye is enhabited with
 lyvynge beestes that we knowen, as thou hast
 thyselve leerned by Tholome that proveth it.
 And yif thow haddest withdrawen and abated
 in thy thought fro thilke ferthe partie as moche
 space as the see and the mareys contene and
 overgoon, and as moche space as the regioun
 of drowghte overstreccheth (that is to
40 seyn, sandes and desertes), wel unnethe
 sholde ther duellen a ryght streyte place to the
 habitacioun of men. And ye thanne, that ben
 envyrouned and closed withynne the leeste
 prykke of thilke prykke, thynken ye to manyfesten
 or publisschen your renoun and doon
 yowr name for to be born forth? But yowr
 glorye that is so narwe and so streyt ithrungen
 into so litel bowndes, how mochel conteneth it
 in largesse and in greet doynge? And also
50 set this therto: that manye a nacioun, diverse
 of tonge and of maneris and ek of resoun
 of hir lyvynge, ben enhabited in the cloos
 of thilke lytel habitacle; to the whiche nacyons,
 what for difficulte of weyes, and what for diversite
 of langages, and what for defaute of
 unusage [of] entrecomunynge of marchandise,
 nat oonly the names of synguler men ne may
 nat strecchen, but eek the fame of citees ne
 may nat strecchen. At the laste, certes, in
60 the tyme of Marcus Tulyus, as hymselve
 writ in his book, that the renoun of the
 comune of Rome ne hadde nat yit passid ne
 clomben over the montaigne that highte Caucasus;
 and yit was thilke tyme Rome wel waxen,
 and greetly redouted of the Parthes and eek of
 the othere folk enhabitynge aboute. Seestow
 nat thanne how streyte and how compressid is
 thilke glorie that ye travailen aboute to schewe
 and to multeplye? May thanne the glorie
70 of a synguler Romeyn strecchen thider
 as the fame of the name of Rome may nat
 clymben ne passen? And ek seestow nat that the
 maneris of diverse folk and ek hir lawes ben
 discordaunt among hemselve, so that thilke
 thyng that som men juggen worthy of preysynge,
 other folk juggen that it is worthy of torment?
 And therof comyth it that, though a
 man delyte hym in preysynge of his renoun, he
 ne mai nat in no wyse bryngen forthe ne
80 spreden his name to many manere peples.
 And therfore every maner man aughte to
 ben apayed of his glorie that is publysschid among
 his owene neyghebours; and thilke noble renoun
 schal ben restreyned withynne the boundes of
 o manere folk.
 "But how many a man, that was ful noble in
 his tyme, hath the wrecchid and nedy foryetynge
 of writeris put out of mynde and doon awey; al
 be it so that, certes, thilke wrytynges
90 profiten litel, the whiche writynges long
 and dirk eelde doth awey, bothe hem and
 ek hir auctours! But yow men semeth to geten
 yow a perdurablete, whan ye thynken that in
 tyme comynge your fame schal lasten. But
 natheles yif thow wolt maken comparysoun to
 the endles spaces of eternyte, what thyng hastow
 by whiche thow mayst rejoisen the of long
 lastynge of thi name? For yif ther were makyd
 comparysoun of the abydynge of a moment
100 to ten thowsand wynter, for as mochel as
 bothe tho spaces ben endyd, [yit] hath the
 moment som porcioun of it, although it litel be.
 But natheles thilke selve nowmbre of yeeris, and
 eek as many yeris as therto mai be multiplyed, ne
 mai nat certes be comparysoned to the
 perdurablete that is endlees; for of thinges that
 han ende may ben maked comparysoun, but of
 thynges that ben withouten ende to thynges that
 han ende may be makid no comparysoun.
110 And forthi is it that, although renome, of as
 longe tyme as evere the list to thynken,
 were thought to the regard of eternyte, that is
 unstaunchable and infynyt, it ne sholde nat only
 semen litel, but pleynliche ryght noght.
 "But ye men, certes, ne konne doon no thyng
 aryght, but yif it be for the audience of peple and
 for idel rumours; and ye forsaken the grete
 worthynesse of conscience and of vertu, and ye
 seeken yowr gerdouns of the smale wordes
120 of straunge folk. Have now here and
 undirstand, in the lyghtnesse of swiche
 pryde and veyne glorye, how a man scornede
 festyvaly and myriely swich vanyte. Whilom ther
 was a man that hadde [assaillede] with stryvynge
 wordes another man, the whiche, nat for usage
 of verray vertu but for proud veyn glorie, had
 taken upon hym falsly the name of a philosophre.
 This rather man that I spak of thoughte
 he wolde assaie where he, thilke, were a
130 philosophre or no; that is to seyn, yif that
 he wolde han suffride lyghtly in pacience
 the wronges that weren doon unto hym. This
 feynede philosophre took pacience a litel while;
 and whan he hadde resceyved wordes of
 outrage, he, as in stryvynge ayen and rejoysynge
 of hymself, seide at the laste ryght thus: `undirstondistow
 nat that I am a philosophre?' The
 tother man answerede ayen ful bytyngely and
 seyde: `I hadde wel undirstonden it yif thou
140 haddest holde thi tonge stille.'
 "But what is it to thise noble worthy men
 (for, certes, of swych folk speke I) that seken
 glorie with vertue? What is it?" quod sche.
 "What atteyneth fame to swiche folk, whan the
 body is resolved by the deeth at the laste? For if
 it so be that men dyen in all (that is to seyen,
 body and soule), the whiche thing our reson
 defendeth us to byleeven, thanne is ther no
 glorie in no wyse; for what schulde thilke
150 glorie ben, whan he, of whom thilke glorie
 is seyd to be, nys ryght naught in no wise?
 And yif the soule, whiche that hath in itself
 science of gode werkes, unbownden fro the
 prysone of the erthe, weendeth frely to the
 hevene, despiseth it nat thanne al erthly
 ocupacioun; and [usynge] hevene rejoyseth that
 it is exempt fro alle erthly thynges? (As who
 seith, thanne rekketh the soule of no glorye of
 renoun of this world.)
 "Whoso that with overthrowynge thought
 oonly seketh glorie of fame, and weneth that
 it be sovereyn good, lat hym looke upon the
 brode schewynge contrees of the hevene, and
 upon the streyte sete of this erthe; and he schal
 be asschamed of the encres of his name, that
 mai nat fulfille the litel compas of the erthe.
 O, what coveyten proude folk to lyften up hir
 nekkes on idel in the dedly yok of this
10 world? For although that renoun ysprad,
 passynge to ferne peples, goth by diverse
 tonges; and although that greet houses or
 kynredes shynen with cleer titles of honours;
 yit natheles deth despiseth al heye glorie of
 fame, and deth wrappeth togidre the heyghe
 heved and the lowe, and maketh egal and
 evene the heygheste to the loweste. Where
 wonen now the bones of trewe Fabricius?
 What is now Brutus or stierne Catoun? The
20 thynne fame yit lastynge of here idel names
 is marked with a fewe lettres. But althoughe
 that we han knowen the fayre wordes
 of the fames of hem, it is nat yyven to knowen
 hem that ben dede and consumpt. Liggeth
 thanne stille, al outrely unknowable, ne fame
 ne maketh yow nat knowe. And yif ye wene to
 lyve the lengere for wynd of yowr mortel name
 whan o cruel day schal ravyssche yow, than is
 the seconde deth duellynge unto yow."
30 (Glose. The first deeth he clepeth here departynge
 of the body and the soule, and
 the seconde deth he clepeth as here the styntynge
 of the renoun of fame.)
 "But for as mochel as thow schalt nat
 wenen," quod sche, "that I bere an untretable
 batayle ayens Fortune, yit somtyme it byfalleth
 that sche desceyvable desserveth to han ryght
 good thank of men. And that is whan sche hirself
 opneth, and whan sche discovereth hir
 frownt and scheweth hir maneris. Peraventure
 yit undirstandestow nat that I schal seie. It is
 a wonder that I desire to telle, and forthi
10 unnethe may I unplyten my sentence with
 wordes. For I deme that contrarious Fortune
 profiteth more to men than Fortune debonayre.
 For alwey, whan Fortune semeth debonayre,
 thanne sche lieth, falsly byhetynge the
 hope of welefulnesse; but forsothe contraryous
 Fortune is alwey sothfast, whan sche scheweth
 hirself unstable thurw hir chaungynge. The
 amyable Fortune desceyveth folk; the contrarie
 Fortune techeth. The amyable Fortune
20 byndeth with the beaute of false goodes
 the hertes of folk that usen hem: the contrarye
 Fortune unbyndeth hem by the knowynge
 of freel welefulnesse. The amyable Fortune
 maystow seen alwey wyndy and flowynge,
 and evere mysknowynge of hirself; the contrarie
 Fortune is atempre and restreyned and
 wys thurw exercise of hir adversite. At the
 laste, amyable Fortune with hir flaterynges
 draweth myswandrynge men fro the sovereyne
30 good; the contrarious Fortune ledeth
 ofte folk ayen to sothfast goodes, and
 haleth hem ayen as with an hook. Wenestow
 thanne that thow augghtest to leeten this a litel
 thyng, that this aspre and horrible Fortune
 hath discovered to the the thoughtes of thi
 trewe freendes? Forwhy this ilke Fortune hath
 departed and uncovered to the bothe the certein
 visages and eek the doutous visages of thi
 felawes. Whan she departed awey fro the,
40 she took awey hir freendes and lefte the
 thyne freendes. Now whanne thow were
 ryche and weleful, as the semede, with how
 mochel woldestow han bought the fulle knowynge
 of thys (that is to seyn, the knowynge of
 thyne verray freendes)? Now pleyne the nat
 thanne of rychesse ylorn, syn thow hast
 fownden the moste precyous kynde of rychesses,
 that is to seyn, thi verray freendes.
 "That the world with stable feyth varieth
 accordable chaungynges; that the contrarious
 qualites of elementz holden among hemself
 allyaunce perdurable; that Phebus, the sonne,
 with his goldene chariet bryngeth forth the
 rosene day; that the moone hath comaundement
 over the nyghtes, whiche nyghtes Esperus,
 the eve-sterre, hath brought; that the
 see, gredy to flowen, constreyneth with a
10 certein eende his floodes, so that it is nat
 leveful to strecche his brode termes or
 bowndes uppon the erthes (that is to seyn, to
 coveren al the erthe) -- al this accordaunce
 [and] ordenaunce of thynges is bounde with
 love, that governeth erthe and see, and hath also
 comandement to the hevene. And yif this love
 slakede the bridelis, alle thynges that now loven
 hem togidres wolden make batayle contynuely,
 and stryven to fordo the fassoun of this
20 world, the which they now leden in
 accordable feith by fayre moevynges. This
 love halt togidres peples joyned with an holy
 boond, and knytteth sacrement of mariages of
 chaste loves; and love enditeth lawes to trewe
 felawes. O weleful were mankynde, yif thilke
 love that governeth hevene governede yowr
 corages."

---

Boece

Book 3

 By this sche hadde ended hir song, whan the
 swetnesse of here dite hadde thurw-perced me,
 that was desyrous of herknynge, and I astoned
 hadde yit streyghte myn eres (that is to seyn, to
 herkne the bet what sche wolde seye). So that
 a litel herafter I seide thus: "O thow that art
 sovereyne confort of angwyssous corages, so
 thow hast remounted and norysshed me with
 the weyghte of thi sentences and with delyt
10 of thy syngynge; so that I trowe nat
 nowe that I be unparygal to the strokes of
 Fortune (as who seith, I dar wel now suffren
 alle the assautes of Fortune and wel defende
 me fro hir). And tho remedies whiche that
 thou seydest herbyforn that weren ryght
 scharpe, nat oonly that I ne am nat agrisen of
 hem now, but I, desiros of herynge, axe gretly
 to heren tho remedies."
 Thanne seyde sche thus: "That feeled I
20 ful wel," quod sche, "whan that thow ententyf
 and stille ravysschedest my wordes,
 and I abood til that thou haddest swich habite
 of thi thought as thou hast now, or elles til that
 I myself hadde maked to the the same habite,
 whiche that is a more verray thyng. And certes
 the remenant of thynges that ben yet to seie
 ben swiche that first whan men tasten hem they
 ben bytynge; but whan they ben resceyved
 withynne a wyght, thanne ben thei swete.
30 But for thou seyst that thow art so desyrous
 to herkne hem, with how greet brennynge
 woldestow glowen, yif thow wistest whider I
 wol leden the!"
 "Whider is that?" quod I.
 "To thilke verraye welefulnesse," quod sche,
 "of whiche thyn herte dremeth. but forasmoche
 as thi syghte is ocupyed and destourbed by
 imagynacioun of erthly thynges, thow mayst
 nat yit seen thilke selve welefulnesse."
40 "Do," quod I, "and schewe me what is
 thilke verray welefulnesse, I preie the,
 withoute taryinge."
 "That wol I gladly do," quod sche, "for the
 cause of the. But I wol first marken the by
 woordes, and I wol enforcen me to enforme the,
 thilke false cause of blisfulnesse that thou more
 knowest; so that whanne thow hast fully byhoolden
 thilke false goodes and torned thin
 eighen to the tother syde, thow mowe
50 knowe the cleernesse of verray blisfulnesse.
 "Whoso wole sowe a feld plentevous, let hym
 first delyvren it of thornes, and kerve asondir
 with his hook the bussches and the feern, so
 that the corn may comen hevy of erys and of
 greynes. Hony is the more swete, if mouthes
 han first tasted savours that ben wykke. The
 sterres schynen more aggreablely whan the
 wynd Nothus leteth his plowngy blastes; and
 aftir that Lucifer, the day-sterre, hath
10 chased awey the dirke nyght, the day the
 fairere ledeth the rosene hors (of the
 sonne). And ryght so thow, byhooldyng ferst the
 false goodes, bygyn to withdrawe thy nekke
 fro the yok (of erthely affeccions); and
 afterward the verray goodes schullen entren into
 thy corage."
 Tho fastnede sche a litel the syghte of hir
 eyen, and withdrowghe hir ryght as it were into
 the streyte seete of here thought, and bygan to
 speke ryght thus: "Alle the cures," quod sche,
 "of mortel folk, whiche that travailen hem in
 many manere studies, gon certes by diverse
 weyes; but natheles thei enforcen hem alle to
 comyn oonly to oon ende of blisfulnesse. And
 blisfulnesse is swiche a good, that whoso
10 that hath geten it, he ne may over that
 nothyng more desire. And this thyng forsothe
 is the soverayn good that conteneth in
 hymself alle maner goodes; to the whiche goode
 if ther fayled any thyng, it myghte nat ben
 sovereyn good, for thanne wer ther som good
 out of thilke sovereyn good, that myghte ben
 desired. Now is it cleer and certeyne thanne,
 that blisfulnesse is a parfyt estat by the congregacioun
 of alle goodes; the whiche blisfulnesse,
20 as I have seyd, alle mortel folk enforcen
 hem to geten by diverse weyes.
 Forwhy the covetise of verray good is naturely
 iplauntyd in the hertes of men, but the myswandrynge
 errour mysledeth hem into false
 goodes. Of the whiche men, some of hem
 wenen that sovereyn good be to lyven withoute
 nede of any thyng, and travaylen hem to ben
 habundaunt of rychesses. And some othere
 men demen that sovereyn good be for to be
30 ryght digne of reverence, and enforcen
 hem to ben reverenced among hir neyghbours
 by the honours that thei han igeten. And
 some folk ther ben that holden that ryght heye
 power be sovereyn good, and enforcen hem for
 to reignen or elles to joygnen hem to hem that
 reignen. And it semeth to some other folk, that
 noblesse of renoun be the sovereyn good, and
 hasten hem to geten hem gloryouse name by the
 artz of werre or of pees. And many folk
40 mesuren and gessen that the sovereyne
 good be joye and gladnesse, and wenen
 that it be ryght blisful thyng to plowngen hem
 in voluptuous delyt. And ther ben folk that
 entrechaungen the causes and the endes of
 thyse forseyde goodes, as they that desiren
 rychesses to han power and delitz, or elles they
 desiren power for to have moneye or for cause
 of renoun. In thise thynges and in swiche other
 thynges is torned al the entencioun of desyrynges
50 and werkes of men; as thus:
 noblesse and favour of peple, whiche that
 yyveth to men, as it semeth hem, a maner
 cleernesse of renoun; and wyf and children,
 that men desiren for cause of delyt and myrynesse.
 But forsothe freendes ne schulde nat ben
 rekned among the goodes of fortune, but of
 vertu, for it is a ful hooly maner thyng; alle
 thise othere thinges forsothe ben taken for
 cause of power or elles for cause of delyt.
60 Certes now am I redy to referren the
 goodes of the body to thise forseide thynges
 aboven; for it semeth that strengthe and gretnesse
 of body yyven power and worthynesse,
 and that beaute and swyftnesse yyven noblesse
 and glorie of renoun; and heele of body semeth
 yyven delyt. In alle thise thynges it semeth
 oonly that blisfulnesse is desyred; forwhy thilk
 thing that every man desireth moost over alle
 thynges he demeth that it be the sovereyn
70 good; but I have diffyned that blisfulnesse
 is the sovereyn good; for whiche every
 wyght demeth that thilke estat that he desireth
 over alle thynges, that it be blisfulnesse.
 "Now hastow thanne byforn thyne eien almest
 al the purposede forme of the welefulnesse
 of mankynde: that is to seyn rychesses,
 honours, power, glorie, and delitz. The whiche
 delit oonly considered Epicurus, and juggid
 and establissyde that delyt is the soverayn
80 good, for as moche as alle othere thynges,
 as hym thoughte, byrefte awey joye and
 myrthe from the herte. But I retorne ayen to
 the studies of men, of whiche men the corage
 alwey reherceth and seketh the sovereyne good,
 al be it so that it be with a dyrkyd memorie;
 but he not by whiche path, ryght as a dronke
 man not nat by whiche path he may retourne
 hom to his hous. Semeth it thanne that folk
 foleyen and erren, that enforcen hem to
90 have nede of nothyng? Certes ther nys
 noon other thyng that mai so wel performe
 blisfulnesse, as an estat plentevous of alle godes,
 that ne hath nede of noon other thyng, but
 that it is suffisant of hymself unto hymself.
 And foleyen swiche folk, thanne, that wenen
 that thilk thyng that is ryght good, that it be
 eek ryght worthy of honour and of reverence?
 Certes, nay. For that thyng nis neither foul ne
 worthy to ben despysed that wel neyghe al
100 the entencioun of mortel folk [travayleth.
 for to geten it. And power, aughte nat that
 ek to ben rekned amonge goodes? What elles?
 For it nys nat to wene that thilke thyng that is
 most worthy of alle thynges be feble and
 withoute strengthe. And cleernesse of renoun,
 aughte that to ben despysed? Certes ther may no
 man forsake, that alle thyng that is right
 excellent and noble, that it ne semeth to ben
 ryght cleer and renomed. For certes it
110 nedeth nat to saie that blisfulnesse be
 [n'] [angwyssous] ne drery, ne subgit to
 grevaunces ne to sorwes; syn that in ryght litele
 thynges folk seken to haven and to usen that may
 delyten hem. Certes thise ben the thinges that
 men wolen and desiren to geten, and for this
 cause desiren they rychesses, dignytes, reignes,
 glorie, and delices; for therby wenen they to
 han suffysaunce, honour, power, renoun, and
 gladnesse. Thanne is it good that men
120 seken thus, by so manye diverse studies; in
 whiche desir it mai lyghtly be schewyd how
 greet is the strengthe of nature. For how so that
 men han diverse sentences and discordynge,
 algates men accorden alle in lovynge the eende
 of good.
 "It liketh me to schewe by subtil soong, with
 slakke and delytable sown of strenges, how
 that Nature, myghty, enclyneth and flytteth the
 governementz of thynges, and by whiche lawes
 sche, purveiable, kepith the grete world; and
 how sche, byndynge, restreyneth alle thynges
 by a boond that may nat be unbownde. Al be
 it so that the lyouns of the contre of Pene beren
 the fayre chaynes, and taken metes of the
10 handes of folk that yeven it hem, and
 dreden hir stourdy [maistre] of whiche thei
 ben wont to suffre betynges; yif that hir horrible
 mouthes ben bybled (that is to seyn, of
 beestes devoured), hir corage of tyme passed,
 that hath ben idel and rested, repeireth ayen,
 and thei roren grevously, and remembren on
 hir nature, and slaken hir nekkes from hir
 cheynes unbownde; and hir mayster fyrst,
 totorn with blody tooth, assaieth the wode
20 wratthes of hem (this to seyn, thei freten
 hir maister). And the janglynge brid that
 syngeth on the heghe braunches (that is to
 seyn, in the wode), and after is enclosed in a
 streyte cage, althoughe that the pleyinge bysynes
 of men yeveth [hym] honyed drynkes and large
 metes with swete studye, yit natheles yif thilke
 bryd skippynge out of hir streyte cage seith the
 agreables schadwes of the wodes, sche defouleth
 with hir feet hir metes ischad, and seketh
30 mornynge oonly the wode, and twytereth
 desyrynge the wode with hir swete voys.
 The yerde of a tree, that is haled adoun by
 myghty strengthe, boweth redily the crop
 adown; but yif that the hand of hym that it bente
 leet it goon ageyn, anoon the crop loketh upryght
 to hevene. The sonne, Phebus, that falleth
 at even in the westrene wawes, retorneth
 ayen eftsones his cart, by a pryve path, there
 as it is wont t' aryse. Alle thynges seken
40 ayen to hir propre cours, and alle thynges
 rejoysen hem of hir retornynge ayen to
 hir nature. Ne noon ordenaunce is bytaken to
 thynges, but that that hath joyned the endynge
 to the bygynnynge, and hath maked the cours
 of itself stable (that it chaunge nat from his
 propre kynde).
 "Certes also ye men, that ben erthliche
 beestes, dremen alwey your bygynnynge, althoughe
 it be with a thynne ymaginacioun; and
 by a maner thought, al be it nat clerly ne parfitely,
 ye loken from afer to thilke verray fyn of
 blisfulnesse. And therfore naturel entencioun
 ledeth yow to thilke verray good, but many
 maner errours mystorneth yow therfro. Considere
 now yif that by thilke thynges by
10 whiche a man weneth to geten hym blisfulnesse,
 yif that he mai comen to thilk ende
 that he weneth to come by nature. For yif that
 moneye, or honours, or thise othere forseyde
 thynges, brynge to men swiche a thyng that no
 good ne fayle hem ne semeth faile, certes
 thanne wol I graunte that they ben maked blisful
 by thilke thynges that thei han geten. But
 yif so be that thilke thynges ne mowen nat performen
 that they byheten, and that there
20 be defaute of manye goodis, scheweth it
 nat thanne clerly that false beute of blysfulnesse
 is knowen and ataynt in thilke thynges?
 First and forward thow thiself, that haddest
 haboundances of rychesses nat longe agoon, I
 aske the yif that, in the habowndance of alle
 thilke rychesses, thow were nevere angwysous
 ne sory in thy corage of any wrong or grevance
 that bytydde the on any side?"
 "Certes," quod I, "it ne remembreth me
30 nat that evere I was so fre of my thought
 that I ne was alwey in angwyse of somwhat."
 "And was nat that," quod sche, "for that the
 lakkide somwhat that thow noldest nat han
 lakkid, or elles thou haddest that thow noldest
 nat han had?"
 "Ryght so is it," quod I.
 "Than desiredest thow the presence of the
 toon and the absence of the tothir?"
40 "I graunte wel," quod I.
 "Forsothe," quod sche, "thanne nedeth
 ther somwhat that every man desireth?"
 "Yee, ther nedeth," quod I.
 "Certes," quod sche, "and he that hath lak or
 nede of aught nys nat in every wey suffisant to
 hymself?"
 "No," quod I.
 "And thow," quod sche, "in al the plente of
 thy richesses haddest thilke lakke of suffisaunce?"
 "What elles?" quod I.
 "Thanne mai nat richesses maken that a man
 nys nedy, ne that he be suffisaunt to hymself;
 and yit that was it that thei byhighten, as it
 semeth. And eek certes I trow that this be
 gretly to considere, that moneye ne hath nat in
 his owene kynde that it ne mai ben bynomen
 of hem that han it, maugre hem."
 "I byknowe it wel," quod I.
60 "Whi sholdestow nat byknowen it,"
 quod sche, "whan every day the strengere
 folk bynymen it fro the feblere maugre hem?
 For whennes comen elles alle thise [forense]
 compleyntes or quereles of pledynges but
 for that men axen ayen hir moneye that hath
 ben bynomen hem by force or by gyle, and
 alwey maugre hem?"
 "Right so is it," quod I.
 "Than," quod sche, "hath a man nede to
70 seken hym foreyne help by whiche he may
 defenden his moneye?"
 "Who mai seie nay?" quod I.
 "Certes," quod sche, "and hym nedide noon
 help yif he ne hadde no moneye that he myghte
 leese."
 "That is douteles," quod I.
 "Than is this thyng torned into the contrarie,"
 quod sche; "for rychesses, that men
 wenen scholde maken suffisaunce, they
80 maken a man rather have nede of foreyne
 help. Whiche is the maner or the gyse,"
 quod sche, "that rychesse mai dryve awey
 nede? Riche folk, mai they neyther han hungir
 ne thurst? Thise riche men, may they fele no
 cold on hir lymes in wynter? But thow wolt
 answeren that ryche men han inoghe wherwith
 thei mai staunchen hir hungir, and slaken hir
 thurst, and don awey cold. In this wise mai
 nede be conforted by richesses, but certes
90 nede ne mai nat al outrely be doon awey;
 for thoughe this nede that is alwey gapynge
 and gredy, be fulfild with richesses, and axe any
 thyng, yit duelleth thanne a nede that myghte be
 fulfild. I holde me stille and telle nat how that
 litel thyng suffiseth to nature; but certes to
 avarice inowghe ne suffiseth nothyng. For syn
 that rychesse ne mai nat al doon awey nede, but
 richesses maken nede, what mai it thanne be that
 ye wenen that richesses mowen yyven yow
100 suffisaunce?
 "Al weere it so that a riche coveytous man
 hadde a ryver or a goter fletynge al of gold, yit
 sholde it nevere staunchen his covetise; and
 thoughe he hadde his nekke charged with precyous
 stones of the Rede See, and thoughe he
 do ere his feeldes plentevous with an hundred
 oxen, nevere ne schal his bytynge bysynesse
 forleeten hym whil he lyveth, ne the lyghte
 richesses ne schal nat beren hym companye
10 whan he is deed.
 "But dignytees, to whom thei ben comen,
 make they hym honourable and reverent? Han
 thei nat so gret strengthe that thei mai putten
 vertus in the hertes of folk that usen the lordschipes
 of hem, or elles may they don awey the
 vices? Certes thei ben nat wont to don awey
 wikkidnesse, but thei ben wont rather to
 schewen wykkydnesse. And therof cometh it
 that Y have right gret disdayn that dignytes
10 ben yyven ofte to wikkide men. For
 which thyng Catullus clepid a consul of
 Rome that hyghte Nonyus `postum' or `boch'
 (as who seith, he clepid hym a congregacioun
 of vices in his brest, as a postum is ful of corrupcioun),
 al were this Nonyus set in chayere
 of dygnite. Sestow nat thanne how grete
 vylenye dignytes don to wikkide men? Certes
 unworthynesse of wikkide men schulde ben the
 lesse isene if thei neere renomed of none
20 honours. Certes thou thiself ne myghtest
 nat ben broght, with as many perils as
 thow myghtest suffren, that thow woldest beren
 the magistrat with Decorat (that is to seyn,
 that for no peril that myghte byfallen the by
 offence of the kyng Theodorik, thou noldest nat
 be felawe in governaunce with Decorat), whan
 thow seye that he hadde wikkide corage of a
 likerous schrewe and of an accusour. Ne I ne
 mai nat for swiche honours juggen hem
30 worthy of reverence that I deme and holde
 unworthy to han thilke same honours.
 Now yif thow seie a man that were fulfild of
 wysdom, certes thou ne myghtest nat deme
 that he were unworthy to the honour or elles
 to the wisdom of whiche he is fulfild?"
 "No," quod I.
 "Certes dignytees," quod sche, "aperteignen
 properly to vertu, and vertu transporteth dignyte
 anoon to thilke man to whiche sche
40 hirself is conjoigned. And for as moche as
 honours of peple ne mai nat maken folk
 digne of honour, it is wel seyn cleerly that thei
 ne han no propre beaute of dignyte. And yet
 men aughten taken more heede in this. For yif
 a wykkyd wyght be in so mochel the fowlere
 and the more outcast that he is despysed of
 moost folk, so as dignyte ne mai nat maken
 schrewes worthy of no reverence, the whiche
 schrewes dignyte scheweth to moche folk;
50 than maketh dignyte schrewes rather so
 much more despised than preysed, and
 forsothe nat unpunyssched (that is for to seyn
 that schrewes revengen hem ayenward uppon
 dignytes), for thei yelden ayen to dignytees
 as greet gerdoun, whan they byspotten and
 defoulen dignytes with hir vylenye. And for as
 mochel as thou now knowe that thilke verray
 reverence ne mai nat comen by thise schadwy
 transitorie dignytes, undirstond now thus:
60 yif that a man hadde used and had manye
 maner dignytees of consules, and weere
 comen peraventure among straunge nacions,
 scholde thilke honour maken hym worschipful
 and redouted of straunge folk? Certes yif
 that honour of peple were a natureel yifte to
 dignytes, it ne myghte nevere cesen nowhere
 amonges no maner folk to don his office; right
 as fyer in every contre ne stynteth nat to
 eschaufen and to ben hoot. But for as
70 mochel as for to be holden honurable or
 reverent ne cometh nat to folk of hir
 propre strengthe of nature, but oonly of the false
 opynyoun of folk (that is to seyn, that weenen
 that dignytees maken folk digne of honour),
 anoon therfore, whan that thei comen there as
 folk ne knowen nat thilke dignytees, hir honours
 vanysschen away, and that anoon. But that is
 amonges straunge folk, maystow seyn. Ne
 amonges hem ther thei weren born, ne
80 duren nat thilke dignytes alwey? Certes the
 dignyte of the provostrye of Rome was
 whilom a greet power; now nys it no thyng but
 an idel name, and the rente of the senatorie a
 greet charge; and yif a wyght whilom hadde the
 office to taken heede to the vitayles of the peple,
 as of corn and othere thynges, he was holden
 amonges grete; but what thyng is now more
 outcast than thilke provostrye? And, as I have
 seyd a litel herebyforn, that thilke thyng
90 that hath no propre beute of hymself
 resceyveth somtyme prys and schynynge,
 and somtyme leeseth it, by the opinyoun of
 usaunces. Now yif that dignytes thanne ne
 mowen nat make folk digne of reverence, and if
 that dignytees waxen foule of hir wil by the
 filthe of schrewes, and yif dignytees leesen hir
 schynynge by chaungynge of tymes, and yif thei
 waxen fowle by estimacion of peple, what is it
 that they han in hemself of beaute that
100 oughte ben desired? (As who seith noon;
 thanne ne mowen they yeven no beute of
 dignyte to noone othere.)
 "Al be it so that the proude Nero, with al his
 wode luxure, kembde hym and apparayled
 hym with faire purpres of Tyrie and with white
 peerles, algates yit throf he haatful to alle folk
 (this is to seyn that, al was he byhated of alle
 folk, yit this wikkide Nero hadde gret lordschipe),
 and yaf whilom to the reverentz senatours
 the unworschipful seetis of dignytees.
 (Unworschipful seetes he clepeth here, for that
10 Nero, that was so wikkide, yaf tho dignytees.)
 Who wolde thanne resonably
 wenen that blisfulnesse were in swiche honours
 as ben yyven by vycious schrewes?
 "But regnes, and familiarites of kynges, mai
 thei maken a man to ben myghti? How elles,
 whan hir blisfulnesse dureth perpetuely? But
 certes the olde age of tyme passed, and ek the
 present tyme now, is ful of ensaumples how
 that kynges han chaungyd into wrecchidnesse
 out of hir welefulnesse. O, a noble thyng and
 a cleer thyng is power, that is nat fownden
 myghty to kepe itself! And yif that power
10 of remes be auctour and makere of blisfulnesse,
 yif thilke power lakketh on any syde,
 amenuseth it nat thilke blisfulnesse and bryngeth
 in wrecchidnesse? But yit, al be it so that
 the remes of mankynde strecchen broode, yit
 moot ther nede ben moche folk over whiche
 that every kyng ne hath no lordschipe ne
 comaundement. And certes uppon thilke syde
 that power fayleth, whiche that maketh folk blisful,
 ryght on that same syde noun-power
20 entreth undirnethe, that maketh hem
 wrecches. In this manere thanne moten
 kynges han more porcioun of wrecchidnesse
 than of welefulnesse. A tyraunt, that was kyng
 of Sysile, that hadde assayed the peril of his
 estat, schewede by simylitude the dredes of
 remes by gastnesse of a swerd that heng over
 the heved of his familyer. What thyng is
 thanne this power, that mai nat done awey the
 bytynges of bysynesse, ne eschewe the
30 prykkes of drede? And certes yit wolde
 thei lyven in sykernesse, but thei may nat,
 and yit they glorifien hem in hir power. Holdestow
 thanne that thilke man be mighty, that
 thow seest that he wolde doon that he may nat
 done? And holdestow thanne hym a myghti
 man, that hath envyrowned his sydes with men
 of armes or sergeantz, and dredeth more hem
 that he maketh agast thanne thei dreden hym,
 and that is put in the handes of hise servauntz
40 for he scholde seme myghty? But of
 familiers or servantz of kynges, what
 scholde I telle the any thyng, syn that I myself
 have schewyd the that rewmes hemself ben
 ful of greet feblesse? The whiche famylieres,
 certes, the real power of kynges, in hool estat
 and in estaat abated, ful ofte throweth adoun.
 Nero constreynede Senek, his familyer and his
 mayster, to chesen on what deeth he wolde
 deye. Antonyus comaundede that knyghtes
50 slowen with here swerdes Papynian (his
 famylier) [whiche] that had ben long
 tyme ful myghty amonges hem of the court.
 And yet certes thei wolden bothe han renounced
 hir power; of whiche two Senek enforcede
 hym to yeven to Nero his richesses, and
 also to han gon into solitarie exil. But whan the
 grete weyghte (that is to seyn, of lordes power
 or of fortune) draweth hem that schullen falle,
 neither of hem ne myghte don that he
60 wolde. What thyng is thanne thilke powere,
 that though men han it, yit thei ben agast;
 and whanne thow woldest han it, thou nart nat
 siker; and yif thou woldest forleeten it, thow
 mayst nat eschuen it? But whethir swiche men
 ben freendes at nede, as ben [consyled] by fortune
 and nat be vertu? Certes swiche folk as
 weleful fortune maketh frendes, contraryous
 fortune maketh hem enemys. And what pestilence
 is more myghty for to anoye a wyght
70 than a famylier enemy?
 "Whoso wol ben myghti he moot daunten his
 cruel corages, ne putte nat his nekke, overcomen,
 undir the foule reynes of leccherie. For
 al be it so that thi lordschipe strecche so fer
 that the contre of Ynde quaketh at thy comaundementz
 or at thi lawes, and that the laste
 ile in the see that highte Tyle be thral to the,
 yit yif thou maist nat putten awey thi foule
 dirke desires, and dryven out fro the
10 wrecchide compleyntes, certes it nys no
 power that thow hast.
 "But glorie, how deceyvable and how foul is
 it ofte! For which thyng nat unskilfully a tragedien
 (that is to seyn, a makere of dytees that
 highten tragedies) cride and seide: `O glorie,
 glorie,' quod he, `thow nart nothyng elles to
 thousandes of folk but a greet swellere of eres!'
 For manye han had ful greet renoun by the
 false opinyoun of the peple, and what thyng
 mai ben thought foulere than swiche preysynge?
10 For thilke folk that ben preysed
 falsly, they mote nedes han schame of hire
 preysynges. And yif that folk han geten hem
 thonk or preysynge by here dissertes, what
 thyng hath thilke pris echid or encresed to the
 conscience of wise folk, that mesuren hir good,
 nat by the rumour of the peple, but by the
 sothfastnesse of conscience? And yif it seme a
 fair thyng a man to han encreced and sprad his
 name, thanne folweth it that it is demed to
20 ben a foul thyng yif it ne be yspradde and
 encreced. But, as I seide a litil herebyforn,
 that syn ther moot nedes ben many folk to
 whiche folk the renoun of [o] man ne mai nat
 comen, it byfalleth that he that thow wenest be
 glorious and renomed semeth in the nexte
 partie of the erthes to ben withouten glorie and
 withouten renoun. And certes amonges thise
 thynges I ne trowe nat that the pris and the
 grace of the peple nys neyther worthi to
30 ben remembred, ne cometh of wys jugement,
 ne is ferme perdurably.
 "But now of this name of gentilesse, what
 man is it that ne may wele seen how veyn and
 how flyttynge a thyng it es? For yif the name
 of gentilesse be referred to renoun and cleernesse
 of lynage, thanne is gentil name but a
 foreyne thyng (that is to seyn, to hem that gloryfien
 hem of hir lynage.) For it semeth that
 gentilesse be a maner preisynge that cometh
40 of the dessertes of auncestres; and yif
 preisynge make gentilesse, thanne mote
 they nedes ben gentil that been preysed. For
 whiche thing it folweth that yif thou ne have no
 gentilesse of thiself (that is to seyn, prys that
 cometh of thy deserte), foreyne gentilesse ne
 maketh the nat gentil. But certes yif ther be
 ony good in gentilesse, I trowe it be al only
 this, that it semeth as that a maner necessite
 be imposed to gentil men for that thei ne
50 schulde nat owtrayen or forlynen fro the
 vertus of hir noble kynrede.
 "Alle the lynage of men that ben in erthe ben
 of semblable byrthe. On allone is fadir of
 thynges; on allone mynystreth alle thynges.
 He yaf to the sonne his bemes, he yaf to the
 moone hir hornes, he yaf the men to the erthe,
 he yaf the sterres to the hevene. He encloseth
 with membres the soules that comen from his
 heye sete. Thanne comen alle mortel folk of
 noble seed. Why noysen ye or bosten of
10 your eldres? For yif thow loke youre bygynnyng,
 and God your auctour and yowr
 makere, thanne nis ther none forlyned wyght or
 ongentil, but if he noryssche his corage unto
 vices and forlete his propre byrthe.
 "But what schal I seye of delyces of body, of
 whiche delices the desirynges ben ful of anguyssch,
 and the fulfillynges of hem ben ful of
 penance? How grete seknesses and how grete
 sorwes unsuffrable, ryght as a maner fruyt
 of wykkidnesse, ben thilke delices wont to
 bryngen to the bodyes of folk that usen hem!
 Of whiche delices I not what joie mai ben had
 of here moevynge, but this woot I wel, that
10 whosoevere wol remembren hym of hise
 luxures, he schal wel undirstonden that the
 issues of delices ben sorweful and sorye. And
 yif thilke delices mowen maken folk blisful,
 thanne by the same cause moten thise beestis
 ben clepid blisful, of whiche beestis al the entencioun
 hasteth to fulfille here bodily jolyte.
 And the gladnesse of wyf and children were an
 honest thyng, but it hath ben seyd that it is
 overmochel ayens kynde that children han
20 ben fownden tormentours to here fadris, I
 not how manye; of whiche children how
 bytynge is every condicioun, it nedeth nat to
 tellen it the that hast er this tyme assayed it,
 and art yit now angwysshous. In this approve
 I the sentence of my disciple Euripidis, that
 seide that he that hath no children is weleful
 by infortune.
 "Every delit hath this, that it angwisscheth
 hem with prykkes that usen it. It resembleth
 to thise flyenge flyes that we clepen ben; that,
 aftir that the be hath sched hise agreable honyes,
 he fleeth awey, and styngeth the hertes of hem
 that ben ysmyte, with bytynge overlonge holdynge.
 "Now is it no doute thanne that thise weyes
 ne ben a maner mysledynges to blisfulnesse, ne
 that they ne mowen nat leden folk thider as
 thei byheeten to leden hem. But with how grete
 harmes thise forseide weyes ben enlaced, I
 schal schewe the shortly. Forwhy yif thou enforcest
 the to assemble moneye, thow must byreven
 hym his moneye that hath it; and yif
 thow wolt schynen with dignytees, thow
10 must bysechen and supplyen hem that
 yyven tho dignytees; and yif thow coveytest
 be honour to gon byfore othere folk, thow
 schalt defoule thiself thurw humblesse of axynge.
 Yif thou desirest power, thow schalt, be
 awaytes of thy subgetis, anoyously ben cast undir
 by manye periles. Axestow glorye? Thow
 schalt so bien distract by aspere thynges that
 thow schalt forgon sykernesse. And yif thow
 wolt leden thi lif in delyces, every wyght
20 schal despysen the and forleeten the, as
 thow that art thral to thyng that is right
 foul and brutyl (that is to seyn, servaunt to thi
 body). Now is it thanne wel yseyn how litil
 and how brotel possessioun thei coveyten that
 putten the goodes of the body aboven hir
 owene resoun. For maystow surmounten thise
 olifauntes in gretnesse or weighte of body? Or
 maistow ben strengere than the bole? Maystow
 ben swyftere than the tigre? Byhoold the
30 spaces and the stablenesse and the swyft
 cours of the hevene, and stynt somtyme to
 wondren on foule thynges. The whiche hevene
 certes nys nat rathere for thise thynges to ben
 wondryd upon, than for the resoun by whiche it
 is governed. But the schynynge of thi forme
 (that is to seyn, the beute of thi body), how
 swyftly passynge is it, and how transitorie!
 "Certes it es more flyttynge than the mutabilite
 of floures of the somer sesoun. For so as
40 Aristotle telleth, that if that men hadden
 eyghen of a beeste that highte lynx, so that
 the lokynge of folk myghte percen thurw the
 thynges that withstonden it, whoso lokide
 thanne in the entrayles of the body of Alcibiades,
 that was ful fair in the superfice withoute,
 it schulde seme ryght foul. And forthi yif
 thow semest fair, thy nature ne maketh nat
 that, but the deceyvaunce or the feblesse of the
 eighen that loken. But preise the goodes of
50 the body as mochil as evere the lyst, so that
 thow knowe algatis that, whatso it be (that
 is to seyn, of the godes of the body) whiche that
 thou wondrist uppon, mai ben destroied or dissolvid
 by the heete of a fevere of thre dayes.
 Of alle whiche forseide thynges Y mai reducen
 this schortly in a somme: that thise worldly
 goodes, whiche that ne mowen nat yeven that
 they byheeten, ne ben nat parfite by the congregacioun
 of alle goodis, that they ne ben
60 nat weyes ne pathes that bryngen men to
 blisfulnesse, ne maken men to ben blisful.
 "Allas! Whiche folie and whiche ignorance
 mysledeth wandrynge wrecchis fro the path of
 verray good! Certes ye ne seke no gold in
 grene trees, ne ye gadere nat precyous stones in
 the vynes, ne ye ne hiden nat yowre gynnes in
 heye mountaignes to kacchen fyssche of whiche
 ye mai maken riche festes. And if yow liketh
 to hunte to roos, ye ne gon nat to the foordes
 of the watir that highte Tyrene. And over
10 this, men knowen wel the krikes and the
 cavernes of the see yhidde in the flodes,
 and knowen ek whiche watir is moost plentevous
 of white peerlis, and knowen whiche watir
 haboundeth moost of reed purpre (that is to
 seyn, of a maner schellefyssche with whiche men
 deien purpre), and knowen whiche strondes
 habounden most of tendre fysches, or of scharpe
 fyssches that hyghten echynnys. But folk suffren
 hemselve to ben so blynde, that hem
20 ne reccheth nat to knowe where thilke
 goodes ben yhud whiche that thei coveyten,
 but ploungen hem in erthe, and seken
 there thilke good that surmounteth the hevene
 that bereth the sterris. What preyere mai I
 make, that be digne to the nyce thoughtes of
 men? But I preie that thei coveyten rychesses
 and honours, so that, whanne thei han geten
 tho false goodes with greet travaile, that therby
 they mowen knowen the verray goodes.
 "It suffiseth that I have schewyd hiderto the
 forme of fals welefulnesse, so that yif thou loke
 now cleerly, the ordre of myn entencioun requireth
 from hennes forth to schewe the verray
 welefulnesse."
 "Forsothe," quod I, "I se wel now that suffisaunce
 may nat comen by rychesse, ne power
 by remes, ne reverence by dignites, ne gentilesse
 by glorie, ne joie be delices."
10 "And hastow wel knowen the causes,"
 quod sche, "whi it es?"
 "Certes me semeth," quod I, "that Y see hem
 ryght as thoughe it were thurw a litil clyfte, but
 me were levere knowen hem more opynly of
 the."
 "Certes," quod sche, "the resoun is al redy.
 For thilke thyng that symply is o thyng withouten
 ony devysioun, the errour and folie of
 mankynde departeth and divideth it, and
20 mysledeth it and transporteth from verray
 and parfit good to godes that ben false and
 inparfit. But seye me this. Wenestow that he
 that hath nede of power, that hym ne lakketh
 nothyng?"
 "Nay," quod I.
 "Certes," quod sche, "thou seyst aryght; for
 if so be that ther is a thyng that in ony partie
 be feblere of power, certes, as in that, it moot
 nedes be nedy of foreyne help."
30 "Ryght so is it," quod I.
 "Suffisaunce and power ben thanne of
 o kynde?"
 "So semeth it," quod I.
 "And demestow," quod sche, "that a thyng
 that is of this manere (that is to seyn, suffisaunt
 and myghty) oughte ben despised, or ellis that
 it be right digne of reverence aboven alle
 thynges?"
 "Certes," quod I, "it nys no doute that it
40 nys right worthy to ben reverenced."
 "Lat us," quod sche, "adden thanne reverence
 to suffisaunce and to power, so that we
 demen that thise thre thynges be al o thyng."
 "Certes," quod I, "lat us adden it, yif we
 wiln graunten the sothe."
 "What demestow thanne," quod sche, "is
 that a dirk thyng and nat noble that is suffisaunt,
 reverent, and myghty; or elles that it is
 ryght noble and ryght cleer by celebrete of
50 renoun? Considere thanne," quod sche, "as
 we han grauntide hirbyfore that he that ne
 hath nede of no thyng and is moost myghty
 and moost digne of honour, if hym nedeth ony
 cleernesse of renoun, whiche clernesse he myght
 nat graunten of hymself; so that for lak of
 thilke cleernesse he myghte seme the feblere
 on any side, or the more outcast." (Glose. This
 to seyn, nay; for whoso that is suffisaunt,
 myghty, and reverent, clernesse of renoun
60 folweth of the forseyde thynges; he hath it
 al redy of his suffysaunce.)
 Boece. "I mai nat," quod I, "denye it, but I
 moot granten, as it is, that this thyng be ryght
 celebrable by clernesse of renoun and noblesse."
 "Thanne folweth it," quod sche, "that we
 adden clernesse of renoun to the thre forseyde
 thynges, so that there ne be amonges hem no
 difference."
 "This a consequence," quod I.
70 "This thyng thanne," quod sche, "that ne
 hath nede of no foreyne thyng, and that
 may don alle thynges by hise strengthis, and
 that is noble and honourable, nys nat that a
 myry thyng and a joyful?"
 Boece. "But whennes," quod I, "that any sorwe
 myghte comen to this thyng that is swiche,
 certes I mai nat thynke."
 Philosophie. "Thanne mote we graunten,"
 quod sche, "that this thing be ful of gladnesse,
80 if the forseide thynges ben sothe;
 and certes also mote we graunten that suffisaunce,
 power, noblesse, reverence, and gladnesse
 be oonly diverse by names, but hir substaunce
 hath no diversite."
 Boece. "It moot nedly ben so," quod I.
 Philosophie. "Thilke thyng thanne," quod
 sche, "that is oon and symple in his nature, the
 wikkidnesse of men departeth it and divideth
 it; and whanne thei enforcen hem to gete
90 partie of a thyng that ne hath no part, thei
 ne geten hem neyther thilke partie that nis
 noon, ne the thyng al hool that thei ne desire
 nat."
 Boece. "In whiche manere?" quod I.
 Philosophie. "Thilke man," quod sche, "that
 seketh richesse to fleen poverte, he ne travaileth
 hym nat for to geten power, for he hath
 lever ben dirk and vyl; and eek withdraweth
 from hymself manye naturel delites, for he
100 nolde leese the moneie that he hath assembled.
 But certes in this manere he ne
 geteth hym nat suffisance, that power forleteth,
 and that moleste prikketh, and that filthe maketh
 outcaste, and that dirknesse hideth. And
 certes he that desireth oonly power, he wasteth
 and scatereth rychesse, and despyseth delices
 and eek honour that is withoute power, ne he
 ne preiseth glorie nothyng. Certes thus seestow
 wel that manye thynges failen to hym, for
110 he hath som tyme defaute of manye necessites,
 and manye anguysshes byten hym;
 and whan he ne mai nat do tho defautes awey,
 he forletith to ben myghty, and that is the
 thyng that he moost desireth. And ryght thus
 mai I make semblable resouns of honours, and
 of glorie, and of delyces; for so as every of
 thise forseide thinges is the same that thise
 othere thynges ben (that is to seyn, al oon
 thyng), whoso that evere seketh to geten
120 the toon of thise, and nat the tothir, he ne
 geteth nat that he desireth."
 Boece. "What seystow thanne, yif that a
 man coveyte to geten alle thise thynges togidre?"
 Philosophie. "Certes," quod sche, "I wolde
 seye that he wolde geten hym sovereyn blisfulnesse;
 but that schal he nat fynde in tho
 thynges that I have schewed that ne mowen
 nat yeven that thei byheeten?"
130 Boece. "Certes no," quod I.
 "Thanne," quod sche, "ne sholde men
 nat by no weye seken blisfulnesse in siche
 thynges as men wenen that they ne mowen
 yeven but o thyng sengly of al that men
 seken."
 Boece. "I graunte wel," quod I, "ne no
 sothere thyng ne may be seyd."
 Philosophie. "Now hastow thanne," quod
 sche, "the forme and the causes of fals
140 welefulnesse. Now torne and flytte the
 eighen of thi thought, for ther shaltow
 seen anoon thilke verray blisfulnesse that I
 have behyght the."
 Boece. "Certes," quod I, "it is cler and opene,
 theyghe it were to a blynd man; and that
 schewedestow me ful wel a litel herbyforn,
 whan thow enforcedest the to schewe me the
 causes of the fals blisfulnesse. For, but if I be
 begiled, thanne is thilke the verray parfit
150 blisfulnesse that parfitly maketh a man suffisaunt,
 myghty, honourable, noble, and
 ful of gladnesse. And for thow schalt wel
 knowe that I have wel undirstonden thise
 thinges withynne myn herte, I knowe wel that
 thilke blisfulnesse that may verrayly yeven on
 of the forseyde thynges, syn thei ben alle oon
 -- I knowe dowtelees that thilke thyng is the
 ful blysfulnesse."
 Philosophie. "O my nory," quod sche,
160 "by this opynyoun I seie that thow art
 blisful, yif thow putte this therto that I
 schal seyn."
 "What is that?" quod I.
 "Trowestow that ther be any thyng in this
 erthly, mortel, toumblynge thynges that may
 brynge this estat?"
 "Certes," quod I, "Y trowe it nought; and
 thow hast schewyd me wel that over thilke good
 ther nys no thyng more to ben desired."
170 Philosophie. "Thise thynges thanne,"
 quod sche (that is to seyn, erthly
 suffysaunce and power and swiche thynges),
 "outher thei semen lyknesses of verray good, or
 elles it semeth that thei yeve to mortel folk a
 maner of goodes that ne be nat parfyt. But thilke
 good that is verray and parfyt, that mai thei nat
 yeven."
 Boece. "I accorde me wel," quod I.
 Philosophie. "Thanne," quod sche, "for as
180 moche as thou hast knowen whiche is thilke
 verray blisfulnesse, and eek whiche thilke
 thynges ben that lyen falsly blisfulnesse (that is
 to seyn, that be deceyte semen verray goodes),
 now byhoveth the to knowe, whennes and
 where thow mowe seke thilke verrai blisfulnesse."
 "Certes," quod I "that desire I gretly and
 have abyden longe tyme to herkne it."
 "But for as moche," quod sche, "as it
190 liketh to my disciple Plato, in his book of
 In Thymeo, that in ryght litel thynges men
 schulde byseche the help of God, what juggestow
 that be now to done, so that we may
 desserve to fynde the seete of thilk sovereyn
 good?"
 Boece. "Certes," quod I, "Y deme that we
 schul clepe to the Fadir of alle [thyng], for
 withouten hym nis ther no [begynnyng] founded
 aryght."
200 "Thow seyst aryght," quod sche, and
 bygan anoon to syngen right thus:
 "O thow Fadir, soowere and creatour of
 hevene and of erthes, that governest this world
 by perdurable resoun, that comaundest the
 tymes to gon from syn that age hadde bygynnynge;
 thow that duellest thiselve ay stedefast
 and stable, and yevest alle othere thynges to
 ben meved, ne foreyne causes necesseden the
 nevere to compoune werk of floterynge matere,
 but oonly the forme of sovereyn good iset
10 within the withoute envye, that moevede
 the frely. Thow, that art althir-fayrest,
 berynge the faire world in thy thought, formedest
 this world to the lyknesse semblable of
 that faire world in thy thought. Thou drawest
 alle thyng of thy sovereyn ensaumpler and
 comaundest that this world, parfytely ymakid,
 have frely and absolut hise parfyte parties.
 Thow byndest the elementis by nombres proporcionables,
 that the coolde thinges
20 mowen accorde with the hote thinges, and
 the drye thinges with the moyste; that the
 fuyer, that is purest, ne fle nat over-heye, ne that
 the hevynesse ne drawe nat adoun over-lowe the
 erthes that ben ploungid in the watris. Thow
 knyttest togidere the mene soule of treble
 kynde moevynge alle thingis, and divydest it
 by membrys accordynge; and whan it es thus
 divyded [and] hath assembled a moevynge
 into two rowndes, it gooth to torne ayen
30 to hymself, and envyrouneth a ful deep
 thought and turneth the hevene by semblable
 ymage. Thow by evene-lyke causes enhauncest
 the soules and the lasse lyves; and,
 ablynge hem heye by lyghte waynes or cartes,
 thow sowest hem into hevene and into erthe.
 And whan thei ben convertyd to the by thi
 benygne lawe, thow makest hem retourne ayen
 to the by ayen-ledynge fyer. O Fadir, yyve
 thou to the thought to steyen up into the
40 streyte seete; and graunte hym to enviroune
 the welle of good; and, the lyght
 ifounde, graunte hym to fycchen the clere
 syghtes of his corage in the; and skatere thou
 and tobreke the weyghtes and the cloudes of
 erthly hevynesse; and schyn thou by thi bryghtnesse,
 for thou art cleernesse, thow art pesible
 reste to debonayre folk; thow thiself art bygynnynge,
 berere, ledere, path, and terme; to looke
 on the, that is our ende.
 "For as moche thanne as thow hast seyn
 whiche is the fourme of good that nys nat parfit,
 and whiche is the forme of good that is parfit,
 now trowe I that it were good to schewe in
 what this perfeccioun of blisfulnesse is set.
 And in this thing I trowe that we schulde first
 enquere for to witen, yf that any swich maner
 good as thilke good that thow hast dyffinysshed
 a litel herebyforn (that is to seyn, sovereyn
10 good) may be founde in the nature of
 thinges, for that veyn ymagynacioun of
 thought ne desceyve us nat, and put us out of
 the sothfastnesse of thilke thing that is summytted
 to us. But it may nat be denyed that
 thilke good ne is, and that it nys ryght as a
 welle of alle goodes. For alle thing that is
 cleped inparfyt is proevid inparfit be the
 amenusynge of perfeccioun or of thing that is
 parfit. And herof cometh it that in every
20 thing general, yif that men seen any thing
 that is inparfit, certes in thilke general ther
 moot ben som thing that is parfit. For yif so be
 that perfeccioun is don awey, men may nat
 thinke ne say fro whennes thilke thing is that
 is cleped inparfyt. For the nature of thinges ne
 took nat hir begynnynge of thinges amenused
 and inparfit, but it procedith of thinges that
 ben alle hole and absolut, and descendith so
 doun into uttereste thinges and into thinges
30 empty and withouten fruyt. But, as I have
 schewid a litel herebyforn that yif ther be
 a blisfulnesse that be freel and veyn and inparfyt,
 ther may no man doute that ther nys
 som blisfulnesse that is sad, stedefast, and
 parfyt."
 Boece. "This is concluded," quod I, "feermely
 and soothfastly."
 Philosophie. "But considere also," quod sche,
 "in whom this blissefulnes enhabiteth. The
40 comune accordaunce and conceyt of the
 corages of men proveth and graunteth that
 God, prince of alle thinges, is good. For, so as
 nothyng mai ben thought betere than God, it
 mai nat ben douted thanne that he that no
 thinge nys betere, that he nys good. Certes resoun
 scheweth that God is so good that it
 proeveth by verray force that parfyt good is in
 hym. For yif God nys swyche, he ne mai nat be
 prince of alle thinges; for certes somthing
50 possessyng in itself parfyt good schulde be
 more worthy than God, and it scholde
 semen that thilke thing were first and eldere than
 God. For we han schewyd apertely that alle
 thinges that ben parfyt ben first er thynges that
 ben inparfit; and forthy, for as moche as that
 my resoun or my proces ne go nat awey withouten
 an ende, we owe to graunte that the
 sovereyn God is ryght ful of sovereyn parfit
 good. And we han establissched that the
60 sovereyne good is verray blisfulnesse.
 Thanne moot it nedis be that verray blisfulnesse
 is set in sovereyn God."
 Boece. "This take I wel," quod I, "ne this
 ne mai nat be withseid in no manere."
 "But I preye the," quod sche, "see now how
 thou mayst proeven holily and withoute corrupcioun
 this that I have seid, that the sovereyn
 God is ryght ful of sovereyne good."
 "In whiche manere?" quod I.
70 "Wenestow aught," quod sche, "that this
 prince of alle thynges have itake thilke sovereyne
 good anywher out of hymself, of whiche
 sovereyne good men proeveth that he is ful;
 ryght as thou myghtest thenken that God, that
 hath blisfulnesse in hymself, and thilke blisfulnesse
 that is in hym, were divers in substaunce?
 For yif thow wene that God have resseyved
 thilke good out of hymself, thow mayst wene
 that he that yaf thilke good to God be more
80 worth than is God. But I am beknowe and
 confesse, and that ryght dignely, that God
 is ryght worthy aboven alle thinges. And yif
 so be that this good be in hym by nature, but
 that it is dyvers from hym by wenynge resoun,
 syn we speke of God prynce of alle thynges,
 feyne who so feyne mai who was he that
 hath conjoyned thise divers thynges togidre.
 And eek at the laste se wel that a thing that is
 divers from any thing, that thilke thing nys
90 nat that same thing fro whiche it es undirstonden
 to be diverse. Thanne folweth it
 that thilke thing that be his nature is divers
 from sovereyn good, that that thyng nys nat
 sovereyn good; but certes it were a felenous
 cursydnesse to thinken that of hym that no
 thing nys more worth. For alwey, of alle
 thinges, the nature of hem ne may nat ben betere
 thanne hir begynnynge. For whiche I mai concluden
 by ryght verray resoun that thilke
100 that is begynnynge of alle thinges, thilke
 same thing is sovereyn good in his substaunce."
 Boece. "Thow hast seyd ryghtfully," quod I.
 Philosophie. "But we han graunted," quod
 sche, "that the sovereyn good is blisfulnesse."
 "That is sooth," quod I.
 "Thanne," quod sche, "moten we nedes
 granten and confessen that thilke same sovereyn
 good be God."
110 "Certes," quod I, "Y ne may nat denye
 ne withstonde the resouns purposed; and
 I se wel that it folweth by strengthe of the
 premisses."
 "Loke now," quod sche, "yif this be proevid
 yet more fermely thus, that there ne mowen not
 ben two sovereyn goodis that ben divers among
 hemself. For certes the goodis that ben divers
 among hemself, the toon is nat that that the
 tothir is. thanne ne mowen neither of hem
120 ben parfit, so as eyther of hem lakketh to
 othir. But that that nys nat parfit, men
 mai seen apertely that it nys not sovereyn. The
 thinges thanne that ben sovereynly gode ne
 mowe by no weie be divers. But I have wel
 concluded that blisfulnesse and God ben the
 sovereyn good; for whiche it mote nedes be that
 sovereyne blisfulnesse is sovereyn devynite."
 "No thing," quod I, "nys more sothfaste than
 this, ne more ferme by resoun, ne a more
130 worthy thing than God mai not ben concluded."
 Philosophie. "Upon thise thynges thanne," quod
 sche, "ryght as thise geometriens whan thei han
 schewed her proposicions ben wont to bryngen
 yn thinges that thei clepen porismes or declaracions
 of forseide thinges, right so wol I yeve
 the here as a corolarie or a meede of coroune.
 Forwhy, for as moche as by the getynge of blisfulnesse
 men ben makid blisful, and blisfulnesse
140 is dyvinite, than is it manifest and
 opene that by the getynge of dyvinite men
 ben makid blisful. Right as by the getynge of
 justise [men ben maked just], and be the getynge
 of sapience thei ben maked wise, ryght so
 nedes by the semblable resoun, whan they han
 geten dyvinite thei ben maked goddes. Thanne
 is every blisful man God. But certes by nature
 ther nys but o God; but by the participacioun
 of dyvinite ther ne let ne distourbeth nothyng
150 that ther ne ben many goddis."
 "This ys," quod I, "a fair thing and a
 precious, clepe it as thou wilt, be it corolarie, or
 porisme, or mede of coroune, or declarynges."
 "Certes," quod sche, "nothing nys fairere
 than is the thing that by resoun schulde ben
 addide to thise forseide thinges."
 "What thing?" quod I.
 "So," quod sche, "as it semeth that blisfulnesse
 conteneth many thinges, it weere for
160 to witen whether that alle thise thinges
 maken or conjoynen as a maner body of
 blisfulnesse by diversite of parties or membres,
 or elles yif ony of alle thilke thinges be swich
 that it acomplise by hymself the substaunce of
 blisfulnesse, so that alle thise othere thynges
 ben referrid and brought to blisfulnesse (that
 is to seyn, as to the cheef of hem)."
 "I wolde," quod I, "that thow madest me
 clerly to undirstonde what thou seist, and
170 that thou recordidest me the forseide
 thinges."
 "Have I not jugged," quod sche, "that blisfulnesse
 is good?"
 "Yys for sothe," quod I, "and that sovereyn
 good."
 "Adde thanne," quod sche, "thilke good that
 is maked blisfulnesse to alle the forseide
 thinges. For thilke same blisfulnesse [is.
 demed to ben sovereyn suffisaunce, thilke
180 selve is sovereyn power, sovereyn reverence,
 sovereyn clernesse or noblesse, and
 sovereyn delyt. What seistow thanne of alle
 thise thinges, that is to seyn, suffisaunce, power,
 and thise othere thinges, -- ben thei thanne as
 membris of blisfulnesse, or ben they reffered
 and brought to sovereyne good ryght as alle
 thinges [ben] brought to the cheef of hem?"
 Boece. "I undirstonde wel," quod I, "what
 thou purposest to seke, but I desire for
190 to herkne that thow schew it me."
 Philosophie. "Tak now thus the discrecioun
 of this questioun," quod sche; "yif alle thise
 thinges," quod sche, "weren membris to felicite,
 thanne weren thei dyverse that on fro that
 othir. And swich is the nature of parties or of
 membres, that diverse membris compounen a
 body."
 "Certes," quod I, "it hath wel ben schewyd
 herebyforn that alle thise thinges ben
200 al o thyng."
 "Thanne ben thei none membres," quod
 sche, "for elles it schulde seme that blisfulnesse
 were conjoyned al of o membre allone;
 but that is a thing that mai not ben don."
 "This thing," quod I, "nys not doutous; but
 I abide to herknen the remenaunt of the question."
 "This is opene and cler," quod sche, "that
 alle othere thinges ben referrid and
210 brought to good. For therfore is suffisaunce
 requerid, for it is demyd to ben
 good; and forthy is power requirid, for men
 trowen also that it be good; and this same thing
 mowen we thinken and conjecten of reverence,
 and of noblesse, and of delyt. Thanne is sovereyn
 good the somme and the cause of al that
 oughte ben desired; forwhy thilke thing that
 withholdeth no good in itselve, ne semblance
 of good, it ne mai not wel in no
220 manere be desired ne requerid. And the
 contrarie; for thoughe that thinges by here
 nature ne ben not gode, algates yif men wene
 that thei ben gode, yet ben thei desired as
 theigh that thei were verrayliche gode; and
 therefore is it that men oughte to wene by ryghte
 that bounte be the sovereyn fyn and the cause
 of alle the thinges that ben to requiren. But
 certes thilke that is cause for whiche men
 requiren any thing, it semeth that thilke
230 same thing be moost desired. As thus: yf
 that a wyght wolde ryden for cause of hele,
 he ne desireth not so mochel the moevyng to
 ryden, as the effect of his hele. Now thanne,
 syn that alle thynges ben required for the grace
 of good, thei ne ben not desired of alle folk
 more than the same good. But we han grauntide
 that blisfulnesse is that thing for whiche that
 alle thise othere thinges ben desired; thanne
 is it thus that certes oonly blysfulnesse is
240 requered and desired. By whiche thing it
 scheweth cleerly that of good and of blisfulnesse
 is al on and the same substaunce."
 "I se nat," quod I, "wherfore that men
 myghten discorden in this."
 "And we han schewed that God and verray
 blisfulnesse is al o thing."
 "That is sooth," quod I.
 "Thanne mowen we concluden sykerly, that
 the substaunce of God is set in thilke same
250 good, and in noon other place.
 "Cometh alle to-gidre now, ye that ben
 ykaught and ybounde with wikkide cheynes by
 the desceyvable delyt of erthly thynges enhabitynge
 in yowr thought! Her schal ben the
 reste of your labours, her is the havene stable
 in pesible quiete; this allone is the open refut
 to wreches. (Glose. This to seyn, that ye that
 ben combryd and disseyvid with worldly
 affeccions, cometh now to this sovereyn
10 good, that is God, that is refut to hem
 that wolen come to hym.) Textus. Alle the
 thinges that the ryver Tagus yyveth yow with
 his goldene gravelis, or elles alle the thinges
 that the ryver Hermus yeveth with his rede
 brinke, or that Indus yyveth, that is next the
 hote partie of the world, that medleth the grene
 stones with the white, ne scholden not cleren
 the lookynge of your thought, but hiden rather
 your blynde corages withynne here derknesse.
20 Al that liketh yow here, and exciteth
 and moeveth your thoughtes, the
 erthe hath norysschid it in his lowe caves. But
 the schynynge by whiche the hevene is governed
 and whennes that it hath his strengthe, that
 eschueth the derke overthrowynge of the soule;
 and whosoevere may knowen thilke light (of
 blisfulnesse), he schal wel seyn that the white
 beemes of the sonne ne ben nat cleer."
 Boece. "I assente me," quod I, "for alle thise
 thinges ben strongly bounden with ryght ferme
 resouns."
 "How mychel wiltow preysen it," quod sche,
 "yif that thow knowe what thilke good is?"
 "I wol preyse it," quod I, "be pris withouten
 ende, yif it schal betyde me to knowe also togidre
 God that is good."
 "Certes," quod sche, "that schal I [undo]
10 the be verray resoun, yif that tho
 thinges that I have concluded a litel herebyforn
 duellen only in hir first grauntynge."
 Boece. "Thei dwellen graunted to the," quod
 I. (This to seyn as who seith, "I graunte thi
 forseide conclusyouns.")
 "Have I nat schewed the," quod sche, "that
 the thinges that ben required of many folk ne
 ben not verray goodis ne parfite, for thei ben
 divers that on fro that othir; and so as iche
20 of hem is lakkynge to othir, thei ne han no
 power to bryngen a good that is ful and
 absolut; but thanne at erste ben thei verraye
 good, whan thei ben gadred togidre [als] into o
 forme and into oon werkynge, so that thilke
 thing that is suffisaunce, thilke same be power,
 and reverence, and noblesse, and myrthe; and
 for sothe, but yif alle thise thinges ben alle o
 same thing, thei ne han not wherby that thei
 mowen be put in the nombre of thinges
30 that oughten ben required or desired?"
 Boece. "It is schewyd," quod I, "ne herof
 mai ther no man douten."
 Philosophie. "The thinges thanne," quod sche,
 "that ne ben none goodis whan thei ben diverse,
 and whanne thei bygynnen to ben al o thing,
 thanne ben thei goodes -- ne cometh it hem nat
 thanne be the getynge of unyte that thei ben
 maked goodes?"
 Boece. "So it semeth," quod I.
40 "But alle thing that is good," quod sche,
 "grauntestow that it be good by the participacioun
 of good, or no?"
 "I graunte it," quod I.
 "Thanne mustow graunten," quod sche, "by
 semblable resoun that oon and good be o same
 thing; for of thinges of whiche that the effect nys
 nat naturely divers, nedes the substaunce moot
 be oo same thing."
 "I ne may nat denye it," quod I.
50 "Hastow nat knowen wel," quod sche,
 "that alle thing that is hath so longe his
 duellynge and his substaunce as longe as it es
 oon, but whanne it forletith to be oon, it moot
 nedys deien and corrumpen togidres?"
 "In whiche manere?" quod I.
 "Ryght as in beestes," quod sche, "whanne
 the soule and the body ben conjoyned in oon
 and dwellen togidre, it es cleped a beeste; and
 whanne her unyte is destroyed be the
60 disseveraunce the toon fro the tothir,
 thanne scheweth it wel that it is a deed
 thing, and that it nys no lengere no beeste. And
 the body of a wyght, while it duelleth in oo
 fourme be conjunccion of membris, it is wel
 seyn that it is a figure of mankynde; and yif
 the parties of the body ben so devyded and
 disseverid the ton fro the tother that thei destroyen
 unite, the body forletith to ben that it was
 beforn. And whoso wolde renne in the
70 same manere be alle thinges, he scholde
 seen that withouten doute every thing is in
 his substaunce as longe as it is oon; and whanne
 it forletith to ben oon, it dyeth and peryssheth."
 Boece. "Whanne I considere," quod I, "manye
 thinges, I se noon other."
 "Is ther any thing thanne," quod sche, "that,
 in as moche as it lyveth naturely, that forletith
 the talent or the appetyt of his beynge and
 desireth to come to deth and to corrupcioun?"
 "Yif I considere," quod I, "the beestes
 that han any maner nature of wyllynge and of
 nyllynge, I ne fynde no beeste, but if it be
 constreyned fro withoute-forth, that forletith or
 despiseth the entencion to lyven and to duren;
 or that wole, his thankes, hasten hym to dyen.
 For every beest travaileth hym to defende and
 kepe the savacion of his lif, and eschueth deeth
 and destruccioun. But certes I doute me of
90 herbes and of trees [and] I am in a doute
 of swiche thinges [as] ne han no felyng
 soules (ne no naturel werkynges servynge to
 appetites as beestes han, whether thei han
 appetyt to duellen and to duren).
 "Certes," quod sche, "ne therof thar the nat
 doute. Now looke upon thise herbes and thise
 trees. They wexen first in suche places as ben
 covenable to hem, in whiche places thei mowen
 nat sone deye ne dryen, as longe as hir
100 nature mai defenden hem. For some of
 hem waxen in feeldis, and some in mountaynes,
 and othere waxen in mareys, and
 othre cleven on roches, and some wexen
 plentyvous in soondes; and yif any wyght
 enforce hym to bere hem into other places, thei
 wexen drye. For nature yeveth to every thing
 that that is convenient to hym, and travailleth
 that they ne deie nat, as longe as thei han power
 to duellen and to lyven. What wiltow seyn
110 of this, that thei drawen alle here
 norysschynges by here rootes, ryght as thei
 hadden here mouthes yplounged withynne the
 erthes, and sheden be hir maryes hir wode and
 hir bark? And what wyltow seyn of this, that
 thilke thing that is ryght softe, as the marie is,
 that it is alwey hyd in the seete al withinne, and
 that it is defended fro withoute by the
 stedfastnesse of wode, and that the outreste bark
 is put ayens the distemperaunce of the
120 hevene as a deffendour myghty to suffren
 harm? And thus certes maistow wel seen
 how greet is the diligence of nature; for alle
 thinges renovelen and publysschen hem with
 seed ymultiplied, ne ther nys no man that ne
 woot wel that they ne ben ryght as a foundement
 and edifice for to duren, noght oonly for a tyme,
 but ryght as for to dure perdurably by
 generacion.
 "And the thinges eek that men wenen ne
130 haven none soules, ne desire thei nat, iche
 of hem, by semblable resoun to kepyn that
 that is hirs (that is to seyn, that is accordynge
 to hir nature in conservacioun of hir beynge
 and endurynge)? For wherfore ellis bereth
 lightnesse the flaumbes up, and the weyghte
 presseth the erthe adoun, but for as moche as
 thilke places and thilke moevynges ben covenable
 to everyche of hem? And forsothe every
 thing kepeth thilke that is accordynge
140 and propre to hym, ryght as thinges that
 ben contrarious and enemys corrumpen
 hem. And yet the harde thinges, as stones,
 clyven and holden here parties togidere ryght
 faste and harde, and defenden hem in
 withstondynge that thei ne departe nat lyghtly
 atwynne. And the thinges that ben softe and
 fletynge, as is watir and eyr, thei departen
 lyghtly and yeven place to hem that breken or
 divyden hem; but natheles they retorne
150 sone ageyn into the same thinges fro
 whennes thei ben arraced; but fyer fleeth
 and refuseth alle dyvisioun.
 "Ne I ne trete not here now of willeful
 moevynges of the soule that is knowyng, but of
 the naturel entencioun of thinges, as thus: ryght
 as we swolwen the mete that we resseyven and
 ne thinke nat on it, and as we drawen our breeth
 in slepynge that we witen it nat while we slepyn.
 For certes in the beestis the love of hire
160 lyvynges ne of hire beynges ne cometh
 not of the wilnynges of the soule, but of
 the bygynnynges of nature. For certes, thurw
 constreynynge causes, wil desireth and embraceth
 ful ofte tyme the deeth that nature
 dredeth. (That is to seyn as thus: that a man
 may be constreyned so, by som cause, that his
 wille desireth and taketh the deeth whiche
 that nature hateth and dredeth ful sore.) And
 somtyme we seen the contrarye, as thus:
170 that the wil of a wyght distourbeth and
 constreyneth that that nature desireth and
 requirith alwey, that is to seyn the werk of
 generacioun, by whiche generacioun only
 duelleth and is susteyned the longe durablete of
 mortel thinges. And thus this charite and this
 love, that every thing hath to hymself, ne
 cometh not of the moevynge of the soule, but of
 the entencioun of nature. For the purveaunce of
 God hath yeven to thinges that ben creat of
180 hym this, that is a ful grete cause to lyven
 and to duren, for whiche they desiren
 naturely here lif as longe as evere thei mowen.
 For which thou mayst not drede be no manere
 that alle the thinges that ben anywhere, that thei
 ne requiren naturely the ferme stablenesse of
 perdurable duellynge, and eek the eschuynge of
 destruccioun."
 Boece. "Now confesse I wel," quod I, "that Y
 see wel now certeynly withouten doutes
190 the thinges that whilom semeden uncerteyn
 to me."
 Philosophie. "But," quod sche, "thilke thing
 that desireth to be and to duelle perdurably, he
 desireth to ben oon. For yif that oon were
 destroyed, certes, beynge schulde ther noon
 duellen to no wyght."
 "That is sooth," quod I.
 "Thanne," quod sche, "desiren alle thinges
 oon."
200 "I assente," quod I.
 "And I have schewed," quod sche, "that
 thilke same oon is thilke that is good."
 Boece. "Ye, forsothe," quod I.
 "Alle thinges thanne," quod sche, "requiren
 good; and thilke good thow mayst descryven
 ryght thus: good is thilk thing that every wyght
 desireth."
 "Ther ne may be thought," quod I, "no more
 verraye thing. For eyther alle thinges ben
210 referrid and brought to noght, and floteren
 withouten governour, despoyled of oon as
 of hire propre heved; or elles, yif ther be any
 thing to whiche that alle thinges tenden and
 hyen to, that thing muste ben the sovereyn good
 of alle goodes."
 Philosophie. Thanne seide sche thus: "O my
 nory," quod sche, "I have greet gladnesse of
 the, for thow hast fycched in thyn herte the
 [marke] [of] [the] myddel sothfastnesse, (that
220 is to seyn, the prykke). But [in] this thing
 hath ben discoveryd to the [that] thow
 seydest that thow wistest not a litel herbyforn."
 "What was that?" quod I.
 "That thou ne wistest noght," quod sche,
 "whiche was the ende of thinges. And certes that
 is the thyng that every wyght desireth. and for
 as mochel as we han gadrid and comprehendid
 that good is thilke thing that is desired of alle,
 thanne mote we nedys confessen that good
230 is the fyn of alle thinges.
 "Whoso that seketh sooth by a deep thought,
 and coveyteth not to ben disseyvid by no mysweyes,
 lat hym rollen and trenden withynne
 hymself the lyght of his ynwarde sighte; and
 let hym gaderyn ayein, enclynynge into a compas,
 the longe moevynges of his thoughtes; and
 let hym techyn his corage that he hath enclosid
 and hid in his tresors al that he compasseth or
 secheth fro withoute. And thanne thilke
10 thing that the blake cloude of errour
 whilom hadde ycovered schal lighte more
 clerly than Phebus hymself ne schyneth.
 (Glosa. Whoso wol seke the depe ground of
 soth in his thought, and wil nat ben disseyvid
 by false proposiciouns that goon amys fro the
 trouthe, lat hym wel examine and rolle withynne
 hymself the nature and the propretes of
 the thing; and let hym yet eftsones examinen
 and rollen his thoughtes by good deliberacioun
20 or that he deme, and lat hym techyn
 his soule that it hath, by naturel principles
 kyndeliche yhud withynne itself, al the trouthe
 the whiche he ymagineth to ben in thinges
 withoute. And thanne al the derknesse of his
 mysknowynge shall [schewen] more evydently
 to the sighte of his undirstondynge then the
 sonne ne semeth to the sighte withoute-forth.)
 For certes the body, bryngynge the weighte of
 foryetynge, ne hath nat chased out of your
30 thought al the cleernesse of your knowyng;
 for certeynli the seed of soth haldeth and
 clyveth within yowr corage, and it is awaked
 and excited by the wynde and by the blastes
 of doctrine. For wherfore elles demen ye of
 your owene wil the ryghtes, whan ye ben axid,
 but if so were that the norysschynges of resoun
 ne lyvede yplounged in the depe of your herte?
 (This to seyn, how schulde men deme the sothe
 of any thing that were axid, yif ther nere a
40 rote of sothfastnesse that were yploungid
 and hyd in the naturel principles, the
 whiche sothfastnesse lyvede within the depnesse
 of the thought?) And if so be that the
 Muse and the doctrine of Plato syngeth soth,
 al that every wyght leerneth, he ne doth no
 thing elles thanne but recordeth, as men recorden
 thinges that ben foryeten."
 Thanne seide I thus: "I accorde me gretly to
 Plato, for thou recordist and remembrist me
 thise thinges yet the seconde tyme; that is to
 seye, first whan I loste my memorie be the contagious
 conjunccioun of the body with the
 soule, and eftsones aftirward, whan Y lost it
 confounded by the charge and be the burdene
 of my sorwe."
 And thanne seide sche thus: "Yif thow
10 loke," quod sche, "first the thynges that
 thou hast graunted, it ne schal nat ben
 ryght fer that thow ne schalt remembren thilke
 thing that thou seidest that thou nystist nat."
 "What thing?" quod I.
 "By whiche governement," quod sche, "that
 this world is governed."
 "Me remembreth it wel," quod I; "and I confesse
 wel that I ne wyste it nat. But al be it so
 that I see now from afer what thou purposist,
20 algates I desire yit to herknen it of
 the more pleynly."
 "Thou ne wendest nat," quod sche, "a litel
 herebyforn, that men schulde doute that this
 world nys governed by God."
 "Certes," quod I, "ne yet ne doute I it
 naught, ne I nyl nevere wene that it were to
 doute" (as who seith, "but I woot wel that God
 governeth this world"); "and I schal schortly
 answeren the be what resouns I
30 am brought to this. This world," quod I,
 "of so manye diverse and contraryous
 parties, ne myghte nevere han ben assembled
 in o forme, but yif ther ne were oon that conjoyned
 so manye diverse thinges; and the same
 diversite of here natures, that so discorden the
 ton fro that other, most departen and unjoynen
 the thinges that ben conjoynid, yif ther ne were
 oon that contenyde that he hath conjoynid and
 ybounden. Ne the certein ordre of nature ne
40 schulde not brynge forth so ordene moevynges
 by places, by tymes, by doynges, by
 spaces, by qualites, yif ther ne were on, that
 were ay stedfaste duellynge, that ordeynide and
 disponyde thise diversites of moevynges. And
 thilke thing, whatsoevere it be, by whiche that
 alle things ben ymaked and ilad, Y clepe hym
 `God,' that is a word that is used to alle folk."
 Thanne seide sche: "Syn thou feelist thus
 thise thinges," quod sche, "I trowe that I
50 have litel more to done that thou, myghty
 of welefulnesse, hool and sound, ne see
 eftsones thi contre. But let us loken the thinges
 that we han purposed herebyforn. Have I nat
 nombrid and seid," quod sche, "that suffisaunce
 is in blisfulnesse, and we han accorded that
 God is thilke same blisfulnesse?"
 "Yis, forsothe," quod I.
 "And that to governen this world," quod
 sche, "ne schal he nevere han nede of noon
60 help fro withoute? For elles, yif he hadde
 nede of any help, he ne schulde nat have
 no ful suffisaunce?"
 "Yys, thus it moot nedes be," quod I.
 "Thanne ordeyneth he be hymself alone alle
 thinges?" quod sche.
 "That may noght ben denyed," quod I.
 "And I have schewyd that God is the same
 good?"
 "It remembreth me wel," quod I.
70 "Thanne ordeigneth he alle thinges by
 thilke good," quod sche, "syn he, whiche
 that we han accordid to ben good, governeth
 alle thinges by hymself; and he is as a keye and
 a styere, by whiche that the edifice of this world
 is kept stable and withouten corrumpynge."
 "I accorde me greetly," quod I. "And I
 aperceyvede a litil herebyforn that thow woldest
 seyn thus, al be it so that it were by a
 thynne suspecioun."
80 "I trowe it wel," quod sche; "for, as I
 trowe, thou ledist now more ententyfliche
 thyn eyen to loken the verray goodes. But natheles
 the thing that I schal telle the yet ne
 scheweth not lesse to loken."
 "What is that?" quod I.
 "So as men trowen," quod sche, "and that
 ryghtfully, that God governeth alle thinges by
 the keye of his goodnesse, and alle thise same
 thinges, as I have taught the, hasten hem
90 by naturel entencioun to come to good,
 ther may no man douten that thei ne
 ben governed voluntariely, and that they ne
 converten hem of here owene wil to the wil of
 here ordeynour, as thei that ben accordynge
 and enclynynge to here governour and here
 kyng."
 "It moot nedes be so," quod I, "for the reume
 ne schulde nat seme blisful yif ther were a yok
 of mysdrawynges in diverse parties, ne the
100 savynge of obedient thynges ne scholde
 nat be."
 "Thanne is ther nothyng," quod sche, "that
 kepith his nature, that enforceth hym to gon
 ayen God."
 "No," quod I.
 "And yif that any thing enforcede hym to
 withstonde God, myghte it avayle at the laste
 ayens hym that we han graunted to ben almyghty
 by the ryght of blisfulnesse?"
110 "Certes," quod I, "al outrely it ne
 myghte nat avaylen hym."
 "Thanne is ther nothing," quod she, "that
 either mai or wole withstonden to this sovereyn
 good."
 "I trowe nat," quod I.
 "Thanne is thilke the sovereyn good," quod
 sche, "that alle thinges governeth strongly
 and ordeyneth hem softly?"
 Thanne seide I thus: "I delite me,"
120 quod I, "nat oonly in the eendes or in the
 somme of the resouns that thou hast concluded
 and proved, but thilke woordes that
 thou usest deliten me moche more. So that, at
 the laste, foolis that somtyme reenden grete
 thinges oughten ben asschamid of hemself
 (that is to seyn, that we foolis that reprehenden
 wikkidly the thinges that touchen Godis
 governaunce, we aughten ben asschamid of
 ourself), as I, that seide that God refuseth
130 oonly the werkis of men and ne entremettith
 nat of it."
 Philosophie. "Thow hast wel herd," quod
 sche, "the fables of the poetis, how the geauntis
 assaileden hevene with the goddis, but forsothe
 the debonayre force of God disposide hem as it
 was worthy (that is to sey, destroyed the
 geauntes, as it was worthy). But wiltow that
 we joynen togidres thilke same resouns, for
 paraventure of swiche conjunccioun may
140 sterten up som fair sparcle of soth?"
 "Do," quod I, "as the list."
 "Wenestow," quod sche, "that God ne be
 almyghty? No man is in doute of it."
 "Certes," quod I, "no wyght ne douteth it,
 yif he be in his mynde."
 "But he," quod sche, "that is almyghti, ther
 nys no thyng that he ne may?"
 "That is sooth," quod I.
 "May God don evel?" quod sche.
150 "Nay, forsothe," quod I.
 "Thanne is evel nothing," quod sche,
 "syn that he ne may not don evel, that mai
 doon alle thinges."
 "Scornestow me," quod I, "or elles, pleyestow
 or disseyvistow me, that hast so woven
 me with thi resouns the hous of Didalus,
 so entrelaced that it is unable to ben unlaced,
 thow that otherwhile entrist ther thow issist,
 and other while issist ther thow entrest?
160 Ne fooldist thou nat togidre by replicacioun
 of wordes a manere wondirful sercle
 or envirounynge of the simplicite devyne?
 For certes a litel herebyforne, whanne thou bygunne
 at blisfulnesse, thou seidest that it is
 sovereyn good, and seidest that it is set in sovereyn
 God; and seidest that God hymself is
 sovereyn good, and that God is the ful blisfulnesse;
 for whiche thou yave me as a covenable
 yifte, that is to seyn, that no wyght nis
170 blisful, but yif he be God also therwith.
 And seidest eke that the forme of good is
 the substaunce of God and of blisfulnesse; and
 seidest that thilke same oon is thilke same good
 that is required and desired of al the kynde of
 thinges. And thou provedest in disputynge that
 God governeth alle the thinges of the world by
 the governementis of bounte, and seidest that
 alle thinges wolen obeyen to hym, and seidest
 that the nature of yvel nys no thing. And
180 thise thinges ne schewedest thou naught
 with noone resouns ytaken fro withouten,
 but by proeves in cercles and homliche knowen,
 the whiche proeves drawen to hemself heer
 feyth and here accord everiche of hem of othir."
 Thanne seide sche thus: "I ne scorne the nat,
 ne pleie, ne disceyve the; but I have schewed
 the the thing that is grettest over alle thinges,
 by the yifte of God that we whelome prayeden.
 For this is the forme of the devyne substaunce,
190 that is swiche that it ne slideth nat
 into uttreste foreyne thinges, ne ne resceyveth
 noone straunge thinges in hym; but
 ryght as Parmanydes seide in Grees of thilke
 devyne substaunce -- he seide thus: that thilke
 devyne substaunce tornith the world and the
 moevable sercle of thinges, while thilke devyne
 substaunce kepith itself withouten moevynge
 (that is to seyn, that it ne moeveth nevere mo,
 and yet it moeveth alle othere thinges).
200 But natheles, yif I have styred resouns
 that ne ben nat taken from withouten the compas
 of the thing of whiche we treten, but resouns
 that ben bystowyd withinne that compas,
 ther nys nat why that thou schuldest merveillen,
 sith thow hast lernyd by the sentence
 of Plato that nedes the wordis moot be cosynes
 to the thinges of whiche thei speken.
 "Blisful is that man that may seen the clere
 welle of good! Blisful is he that mai unbynden
 hym fro the boondes of the hevy erthe! The
 poete of Trace, Orpheus, that whilome hadde
 ryght greet sorwe for the deth of his wyf, aftir
 that he hadde makid by his weeply songes the
 wodes moevable to renne, and hadde makid
 the ryveris to stonden stille, and hadde maked
 the hertes and the hyndes to joynen dreedles
10 here sydes to cruel lyouns for to herknen
 his song, and hadde maked that the
 hare was nat agast of the hound, whiche was
 plesed by his song; so, whanne the moste ardaunt
 love of his wif brende the entrayles of his
 breest, ne the songes that hadden overcomen
 alle thinges ne mighten nat asswagen hir lord
 Orpheus, he pleynid hym of the hevene
 goddis that weren cruel to hym.
 "He wente hym to the houses of helle,
20 and ther he tempride his blaundysschinge
 songes by resounynge strenges, and spak
 and song in wepynge al that evere he hadde
 resceyved and lavyd out of the noble welles of
 his modir Callyope the goddesse. And he sang
 with as mochel as he myghte of wepynge, and
 with as moche as love that doublide his sorwe
 myghte yeve hym and teche hym, and he
 commoevde the helle, and requyred and bysoughte
 by swete preyere the lordes of
30 soules in helle of relessynge, that is to seyn,
 to yelden hym his wyf. Cerberus, the porter
 of helle, with hise thre hevedes, was caught and
 al abasschid of the newe song. And the thre
 goddesses, furiis and vengeresses of felonyes,
 that tormenten and agasten the soules by anoy,
 woxen sorweful and sory, and wepyn teeris for
 pite. Tho was nat the heved of Yxion ytormented
 by the overthrowynge wheel. And Tantalus, that
 was destroied by the woodnesse of long
40 thurst, despyseth the floodes to drynken.
 The foul that highte voltor, that etith the
 stomak or the gyser of Tycius, is so fulfild of
 his song that it nil eten ne tiren no more. At the
 laste the lord and juge of soules was moevid to
 misericordes, and cryede: `We ben overcomen,'
 quod he; `yyve we to Orpheus his wif to beren
 hym compaignye; he hath wel ybought hire by
 his faire song and his ditee. But we wolen putten
 a lawe in this and covenaunt in the yifte;
50 that is to seyn that, til he be out of helle, yif
 he loke byhynde hym, that his wyf schal
 comen ageyn unto us.' But what is he that may
 yeven a lawe to loverys? Love is a grettere lawe
 and a strengere to hymself thanne any lawe that
 men mai yyven. Allas! Whanne Orpheus and his
 wif weren almest at the termes of the nyght
 (that is to seyn, at the laste boundes of helle),
 Orpheus lokede abakward on Erudyce his wif,
 and lost hire, and was deed.
60 "This fable apertenith to yow alle, whosoevere
 desireth or seketh to lede his
 thought into the sovereyn day, that is to seyn, to
 cleernesse of sovereyn good. For whoso that
 evere be so overcomen that he ficche his eien
 into the put of helle, that is to seyn, whoso sette
 his thoughtes in erthly thinges, al that evere he
 hath drawen of the noble good celestial he lesith
 it, whanne he looketh the helles, that is to seyn,
 into lowe thinges of the erthe.

---

Boece

Book 4

 Whanne Philosophie hadde songen softly
 and delitably the forseide thinges, kepynge the
 dignyte of hir cheere and the weyghte of hir
 wordes, I, thanne, that ne hadde nat al outrely
 foryeten the wepynge and the moornynge that
 was set in myn herte, forbrak the entencioun of
 hir that entendede yit to seyn some othere
 thinges. "O," quod I, "thou that art gyderesse
 of verray light, the thinges that thou hast
10 seid me hidirto ben to me so cleer and so
 schewynge by the devyne lookynge of hem,
 and by thy resouns, that they ne mowen nat
 ben overcomen. And thilke thinges that thou
 toldest me, al be it so that I hadde whilom foryeten
 hem for the sorwe of the wrong that hath
 ben don to me, yet nathales thei ne weren not
 al outrely unknowen to me. But this same is
 namely a ryght gret cause of my sorwe: that so
 as the governour of thinges is good, yif
20 that eveles mowen ben by any weyes,
 or elles yif that evelis passen withouten
 punysschynge. The whiche thing oonly, how
 worthy it es to ben wondrid uppon, thou considerest
 it wel thiselve certeynly. But yit to this
 thing ther is yit another thing ijoyned more to
 ben wondrid uppon: for felonye is emperisse,
 and floureth ful of richesses, and vertu nis nat al
 oonly withouten meedes, but it is cast undir
 and fortroden undir the feet of felenous
30 folk, and it abyeth the tormentz in stede of
 wikkide felouns. Of alle whiche thinges
 ther nys no wyght that may merveillen ynowghe
 ne compleyne that swiche thinges ben don in
 the reigne of God, that alle things woot and
 alle thinges may and ne wole nat but only
 gode thinges."
 Thanne seide sche thus: "Certes," quod sche,
 "that were a greet merveille and an abaysschinge
 withouten ende, and wel more horrible than
40 alle monstres, yif it were as thou wenest;
 that is to seyn, that in the ryght ordene
 hous of so mochel a fadir and an ordeynour of
 meyne, that the vesselis that ben foule and vyl
 schulden ben honoured and heryed, and the
 precious vesselis schulden ben defouled and
 vyl. But it nys nat so. For yif the thinges that
 I have concluded a litel herebyforn ben kept
 hoole and unaraced, thou schalt wel knowe by
 the auctorite of God, of the whos reigne I
50 speke, that certes the gode folk ben alwey
 myghty and schrewes ben alwey outcast
 and feble; ne the vices ben neveremo withouten
 peyne, ne the vertus ne ben nat withouten
 mede; and that blisfulnesses comen alwey
 to good folk, and infortune comith alwey to
 wykkide folk. And thou schalt wel knowe
 manye thinges of this kynde, that schullen
 cesen thi pleyntis and strengthen the with stedfaste
 sadnesse. And for thou hast seyn the
60 forme of the verray blisfulnesse by me that
 have whilom yschewid it the, and thow
 hast knowen in whom blisfulnesse is yset, alle
 thingis ytreted that I trowe ben necessarie to
 putten forth, I schal schewe the the weye that
 schal bryngen the ayen unto thyn hous; and I
 schal fycchen fetheris in thi thought, by whiche
 it mai arisen in heighte; so that, alle tribulacioun
 idon awey, thow, by my gyding and by
 my path and by my sledys, shalt mowen
70 retourne hool and sownd into thi contree.
 "I have, forthi, swifte fetheris that surmounten
 the heighte of the hevene. Whanne
 the swift thoght hath clothid itself in tho
 fetheris, it despiseth the hateful erthes, and surmounteth
 the rowndenesse of the gret ayr; and
 it seth the clowdes byhynde his bak, and passeth
 the heighte of the regioun of the fir, that
 eschaufeth by the swifte moevynge of the firmament,
 til that he areyseth hym into the
10 houses that beren the sterres, and joyneth
 his weies with the sonne, Phebus, and
 felawschipeth the weie of the olde colde Saturnus;
 and he, imaked a knyght of the clere
 sterre (that is to seyn, whan the thought is
 makid Godis knyght by the sekynge of
 trouthe to comen to the verray knowleche of
 God) -- and thilke soule renneth by the cercle
 of the sterres in alle the places there as the
 schynynge nyght is ypainted (that is to
20 sey, the nyght that is cloudeles; for on
 nyghtes that ben cloudeles it semeth as
 the hevene were peynted with diverse ymages
 of sterres). And whan [that] he hath gon there
 inoghe, he schal forleten the laste point of the
 hevene, and he schal pressen and wenden on
 the bak of the swifte firmament, and he schal
 be makid parfit of the worschipful lyght [or]
 dredefulle clerenesse of God. There halt the
 lord of kynges the septre of his myght and
30 atemprith the governementz of the world,
 and the schynynge juge of thinges, stable in
 hymself, governeth the swifte cart or wayn (that
 is to seyn, the circuler moevynge of the sonne).
 And yif thi wey ledeth the ayein so that thou be
 brought thider, thanne wiltow seye now that
 that is the contre that thou requerist, of whiche
 thow ne haddest no mynde -- `but now it
 remembreth me wel, here was I born, her wol
 I fastne my degree, here wol I duelle.' But
40 yif the liketh thanne to looken on the
 derknesse of the erthe that thou hast
 forleten, thanne shaltow seen that these felonus
 tirantz, that the wrecchide peple dredeth now,
 schullen ben exiled fro thilke faire contre."
 Thanne seide I thus: "Owh! I wondre me
 that thow byhetist me so grete thinges. Ne I
 ne doute nat that thou ne maist wel parforme
 that thow behetist; but I preie the oonly this,
 that thow ne tarie nat to telle me thilke thinges
 that thou hast moevid."
 "First," quod sche, "thow most nedes knowen
 that good folk ben alwey strong and myghti,
 and the schrewes ben feble and desert and
10 naked of alle strengthes. And of thise
 thinges, certes, everiche of hem is declared
 and schewed by other. For so as good and
 yvel ben two contraries, yif so be that good be
 stedfast, thanne scheweth the feblesse of yvel
 al opynly; and yif thow knowe clerly the freelnesse
70-ch 16 of yvel, the stedfastnesse of good is
 knowen. But for as moche as the fey of my
 sentence schal ben the more ferme and haboundant,
 I wil gon by the to weye and by the
20 tothir, and I wil conferme the thinges that
 ben purposed, now on this side and now on
 that side.
 "Two thinges ther ben in whiche the effect of
 alle the dedes of mankynde standeth (that is to
 seyn, wil and power); and yif that oon of thise
 two faileth, ther nys nothing that may be doon.
 For yif that wille lakketh, ther nys no wyght that
 undirtaketh to done that he wol nat doon; and
 yif power faileth, the wil nys but in idel and
30 stant for naught. And therof cometh it that
 yif thou see a wyght that wolde geten that
 he mai not geten, thow maist nat douten that
 power ne faileth hym to have that he wolde."
 "This is open and cler," quod I, "ne it ne mai
70-ch 35 nat be denyed in no manere."
 "And yif thou se a wyght," quod sche, "that
 hath doon that he wolde doon, thow nilt nat
 douten that he ne hath had power to doon it?"
 "No," quod I.
40 "And in that that every wyght may, in
 that men may holden hym myghti. (As
 who seith, in so moche as a man is myghty to
 doon a thing, in so mochel men halt hym
 myghti.) And in that that he ne mai, in that men
 demen hym to ben feble."
 "I confesse it wel," quod I.
 "Remembreth the," quod sche, "that I have
70-ch 48 gaderid and ischewid by forseide resouns that al
 the entencioun of the wil of mankynde,
50 whiche that is lad by diverse studies,
 hasteth to comen to blisfulnesse."
70-ch 52 "It remembreth me wel," quod I, "that it hath
 ben schewed."
 "And recordeth the nat thanne," quod sche,
 "that blisfulnesse is thilke same good that men
 requiren, so that whanne that blisfulnesse is
 required of alle, that good also is required and
 desired of alle?"
70-ch 59 "It ne recordeth me noght," quod I, "for
60 I have it gretly alwey ficched in my memorie."
 "Alle folk thanne," quod sche, "goode and
 eek badde, enforcen hem withoute difference of
 entencioun to comen to good."
 "This is a verray consequence," quod I.
 "And certein is," quod sche, "that by the
70-ch 67 getynge of good ben men ymakid gode."
 "This is certein," quod I.
 "Thanne geten gode men that thei desiren?"
 "So semeth it," quod I.
 "But wikkide folk," quod sche, "yif thei geten
 the good that thei desiren, thei ne mowe nat
 ben wikkid."
 "So is it," quod I.
 "Than so as the ton and the tothir," quod
 sche, "desiren good, and the gode folk geten
 good and not the wikkide folk, than is it no
 doute that the gode folk ne ben myghty
80 and wikkid folk ben feble."
 "Whoso that evere," quod I, "douteth
 of this, he ne mai nat considere the nature of
 thinges ne the consequence of resouns."
 "And over this," quod sche, "if that ther ben
 two thinges that han o same purpos by kynde,
 and that oon of hem pursuweth and performeth
 thilke same thing by naturel office, and the
 tother mai nat doon thilke naturel office, but
 folweth, by other manere than is covenable
90 to nature, hym that acomplisseth his purpos
70-ch 91 kyndely, and yit he ne acomplisseth
 nat his owene purpos -- whethir of thise two
 demestow for more myghti?"
 "Yif that I conjecte," quod I, "that thou wilt
 seie, algates yit I desire to herkne it more
 pleynly of the."
 "Thou nilt nat thanne denye," quod sche,
 "that the moevement of goynge nys in men by
 kynde?"
100 "No, forsothe," quod I.
 "Ne thou ne doutest nat," quod sche,
 "that thilke naturel office of goinge ne be the
 office of feet?"
 "I ne doute it nat," quod I.
 "Thanne," quod sche, "yif that a wight be
 myghti to moeve, and goth uppon hise feet, and
 another, to whom thilke naturel office of feet
 lakketh, enforceth hym to gone crepinge uppon
70-ch 109 his handes, whiche of thise two oughte to
110 ben holden the more myghty by right?"
 "Knyt forth the remenaunt," quod I,
 "for no wight ne douteth that he that mai gon
70-ch 113 by naturel office of feet ne be more myghti than
 he that ne may nat."
 "But the soverein good," quod sche, "that is
 eveneliche purposed to the good folk and to
 badde, the gode folk seken it by naturel office of
 vertus, and the schrewes enforcen hem to getin
 it by diverse coveytise of erthly thinges,
70-ch 120 whiche that nys noon naturel office to gete
 thilke same soverein good. Trowestow that
 it be any other wise?"
 "Nai," quod I, "for the consequence is opene
 and schewynge of thinges that I have graunted,
70-ch 125 that nedes good folk moten be myghty, and
 schrewes feble and unmyghti."
 "Thou rennist aryght byforn me," quod sche,
 "and this is the jugement (that is to sein, I juge
70-ch 129 of the), ryght as thise leches ben wont to
130 hopin of sike folk, whan thei aperceyven
 that nature is redressed and withstondeth
 to the maladye. But for I se the now al redy to
 the undirstondynge, I schal schewe the more
 thikke and contynuel resouns. For loke now,
 how greetly scheweth the feblesse and infirmite
 of wikkid folk, that ne mowen nat comen to that
 hir naturel entencioun ledeth hem; and yit
 almest thilke naturel entencioun constreyneth
 hem. And what were to demen thanne of
140 schrewes, yif thilk naturel help hadde
 forleten hem, the whiche naturel help of
70-ch 142 entencioun goth alwey byforn hem and is so gret
 that unnethe it mai ben overcome? Considere
 thanne how gret defaute of power and how gret
 feblesse ther is in wikkide felonous folke. (As
 who seith, the grettere thing that is coveyted
 and the desir nat acomplissed, of the lasse
 myght is he that coveyteth it and mai nat
 acomplisse; and forthi Philosophie seith
150 thus be sovereyn good.) Ne schrewes ne
 requeren not lighte meedes ne veyne
 games, whiche thei ne mai nat folwen ne holden;
 but thei failen of thilke somme and of the
 heighte of thinges (that is to seyn, soverein
 good). Ne these wrecches ne comen nat to the
 effect of sovereyn good, the whiche thei enforcen
 hem oonly to geten by nyghtes and by
70-ch 158 dayes. In the getyng of whiche good the
 strengthe of good folk is ful wel yseene.
160 For ryght so as thou myghtest demen hym
 myghty of goinge that goth on his feet til
70-ch 162 he myghte comen to thilke place fro the whiche
 place ther ne laye no weie forthere to be gon,
 ryght so mostow nedes demen hym for ryght
 myghty, that geteth and atteyneth to the ende of
 alle thinges that ben to desire, byyonde the
 whiche ende ther nys no thing to desire. Of the
 whiche power of good folk men mai conclude
70-ch 169 that the wikkide men semen to be bareyne
170 and naked of alle strengthe.
 "For whi forleten thei vertus and folwen
 vices? Nys it nat for that thei ne knowen nat the
 godes? But what thing is more feble and more
 caytif than is the blyndnesse of ignorance? Or
 elles thei knowen ful wel whiche thinges that
 thei oughten folwe, but lecherie and covetise
 overthroweth hem mystorned. And certes so
 doth distempraunce to feble men, that ne
 mowen nat wrastlen ayen the vices. Ne
180 knowen thei nat thanne wel that thei
 forleten the good wilfully, and turnen hem
 wilfully to vices?
 "And in this wise thei ne forleten nat oonly to
 ben myghti, but thei forleten al outrely in any
 wise for to been. For thei that forleten the
 comune fyn of alle thinges that ben, thei forleten
 also therwithal for to been. And peraventure
70-ch 188 it scholde seme to som folk that this were
 a merveile to seien, that schrewes, whiche
190 that contenen the more partie of men, ne
 ben nat ne han no beynge; but natheles it
70-ch 192 is so, and thus stant this thing. For thei that Bo4 p2 ben
 schrewes I denye nat that they ben schrewes, but
 I denye and seie simply and pleynly that thei ne
 ben nat, ne han no beynge. For right as thou
 myghtest seyn of the careyne of a man, that it
 were a deed man, but thou ne myghtest nat
 symply callen it a man; so graunte I wel forsothe
70-ch 199 that vicyous folk ben wikkid, but I ne may
200 nat graunten absolutly and symply that thei
 ben. For thilke thing that withholdeth
 ordre and kepeth nature, thilke thing es, and
 hath beinge; but what thing that faileth of
 that (that is to seyn, he that forleteth naturel
 ordre), he forleteth thilke beinge that is set in his
70-ch 206 nature.
 "But thow wolt seyn that schrewes mowen.
 Certes, that ne denye I nat; but certes hir
 power ne desscendeth nat of strengthe,
210 but of feblesse. For thei mowen don
 wikkydnesses, the whiche thei ne myghten
 nat don yif thei myghten duellen in the forme
 and in the doynge of good folk. And thilke
 power scheweth ful evidently that they ne
70-ch 215 mowen ryght nat. For so as I have gadrid
 and proevid a litil herebyforn that evel is
 nawght, and so as schrewes mowen oonly but
 schrewednesses, this conclusion is al cler, that
 schrewes ne mowen ryght nat, ne han no
220 power.
 "And for as moche as thou undirstonde
 which is the strengthe of this power of schrewes,
 I have diffinysched a litil herbyforn that no thing
 is so myghti as sovereyn good."
 "That is soth," quod I.
 "And thilke same sovereyn good may don
 noon yvel?"
 "Certes, no," quod I.
 "Is ther any wyght thanne," quod sche,
230 "that weneth that men mowen don alle
 thinges?"
 "No man," quod I, "but yif he be out of his
 wyt."
 "But certes schrewes mowen don evel?" quod
 sche.
 "Ye. Wolde God," quod I, "that thei ne
 myghten don noon!"
 "Thanne," quod sche, "so as he that is myghty
 to doon oonly but goode thinges mai doon
240 alle thinges, and thei that ben myghti to
 doon yvele thinges ne mowen nat alle
 thinges, thanne is it open thing and manyfest
 that thei that mowen doon yvele ben of lasse
 power.
 "And yit to proeve this conclusioun ther
 helpeth me this, that I have schewed herebyforn,
 that alle power is to be noumbred among
 thinges that men oughten requere; and I have
 schewed that alle thinges that oughten ben
250 desired ben referred to good, ryght as to a
 maner heighte of hir nature. But for to
 mowen don yvel and felonye ne mai nat ben
 referrid to good; thanne nys nat yvel of the
 nombre of thinges that oughten ben desired.
 But alle power aughte ben desired and requerid;
 thanne is it open and cler that the power ne the
 mowynge of schrewes nis no power.
 "And of alle thise thinges it scheweth wel that
 the gode folk ben certeinli myghty, and the
260 schrewes doutelees ben unmyghty. And
 it is cler and opene that thilke sentence
 of Plato is verray and soth, that seith that
 oonly wise men may doon that thei desiren,
 and schrewes mowen haunten that hem liketh,
 but that thei desiren (that is to seyn, to come
 to sovereyn good), thei ne han no power to
 acomplissen that. For schrewes don that hem lyst
 whan, by tho thinges in whiche thei deliten, thei
 wenen to ateynen to thilke good that thei
270 desiren; but thei ne geten ne ateyne nat
 therto, for vices ne comen nat to blisfulnesse.
 "Whoso that the coverturis of hir veyn apparailes
 myghte strepen of thise proude kynges,
 that thow seest sitten an hye in here chayeres,
 gliterynge in schynynge purpre, envyrowned
 with sorwful armures, manasyng with cruel
 mowth, blowynge by woodnesse of herte, he
 schulde seen thanne that thilke lordis berin
 withynne hir corages ful streyte cheynes. For
 lecherye tormenteth hem on that o side
10 with gredy venymes; and trowblable ire,
 that areyseth in hem the floodes of trowblynges,
 tormenteth upon that othir side hir
 thought; or sorwe halt hem wery and icawght,
 or slidynge and desceyvynge hope turmenteth
 hem. And therfore, syn thow seest on heved
 (that is to seyn, o tiraunt) beren so manye
 tyranyes, than ne doth thilke tyraunt nat that he
 desireth, syn he is cast doun with so manye
 wikkide lordes (that is to seyn, with so
20 manye vices that han so wikkidly lordschipes
 over hym).
 "Seestow nat thanne in how greet filthe thise
 schrewes been iwrapped, and with which clernesse
 thise gode folk schynen? In this scheweth
 it wel that to good folk ne lakketh neveremo
 hir meedes, ne schrewes ne lakken neveremo
 turmentes. For of alle thinges that ben idoon,
 thilke thing for which any thing is doon, it
 semeth as by ryght that thilke thing be the
 mede of that; as thus, yif a man renneth in
10 the stadye or in the forlonge for the
 corone, thanne lith the mede in the coroune
 for whiche he renneth. And I have schewed
 that blisfulnesse is thilke same good for whiche
 that alle thinges ben doon; thanne is thilke
 same good purposed to the werkes of mankynde
 right as a comune mede, which mede ne
 may nat ben disseveryd fro good folk. For no
 wight as by ryght, fro thennesforth that hym
 lakketh goodnesse, ne schal ben cleped
20 good. For whiche thing folk of gode maneres,
 hir medes ne forsaken hem neveremo.
 For al be it so that schrewes waxen as wode
 as hem lyst ayein good folk, yit natheles the
 coroune of wise men ne schal nat fallen ne
 faden; for foreyne schrewednesse ne bynemeth
 nat fro the corages of good folk hir propre
 honour. But yif that any wyght rejoysede hym
 of goodnesse that he hadde taken fro withoute
 (as who seith, yif any man hadde his goodnesse
30 of any other man than of hymself),
 certes he that yaf hym thilke goodnesse, or
 elles som other wyght, myghte benymen it
 hym. But for as moche as to every wyght his
 owene propre bounte yeveth hym his mede,
 thanne at erste schal he failen of mede whan
 he forletith to ben good. And at the laste, so
 as alle medes ben requerid for men wenen that
 thei ben gode, who is he that nolde deme that
 he that is ryght myghti of good were partlees
40 of the mede? And of what mede schal
 he ben gerdoned? Certes of ryght fair
 mede and ryght greet aboven alle medes. Remembre
 the of thilke noble corrolarie that I
 yaf the a litel herebyforn, and gadre it togidre
 in this manere: so as good [hytself] is blisfulnesse,
 thanne is it cler and certein that alle
 gode folk ben imaked blisful for thei ben gode;
 and thilke folk that ben blisful it accordeth and
 is covenable to ben goddes. Thanne is the
50 mede of good folk swych that no day ne
 schal empeiren it, ne no wikkidnesse schal
 derkne it, ne power of no wyght ne schal nat
 amenusen it; that is to seyn, to ben maked
 goddes. And syn it is thus (that gode men ne
 failen neveremo of hir mede), certes no wise man
 ne may doute of the undepartable peyne of
 schrewes (that is to seyn, that the peyne of
 schrewes ne departeth nat from hemself neveremo).
 For so as good and yvel, and peyne and
60 medes, ben contrarie, it moot nedes ben
 that, ryght as we seen betyden in guerdoun
 of gode, that also moot the peyne of yvel answere
 by the contrarie partie to schrewes. Now
 thanne, so as bounte and pruesse ben the mede
 to good folk, also is schrewidnesse itself torment
 to schrewes. Thanne whoso that evere is
 entecchid or defouled with peyne, he ne douteth
 nat that he nys entecchid and defouled
 with yvel. Yif schrewes thanne wol preysen
70 hemself, may it semen to hem that thei ben
 withouten parti of torment, syn thei ben
 swiche that the uttreste wikkidnesse (that is to
 seyn, wikkide thewes, which that is the uttereste
 and the worst kynde of schrewednesse)
 ne defouleth ne enteccheth nat hem oonly, but
 enfecteth and envenymeth hem greetly? And
 also loke on schrewes, that ben the contrarie
 partie of gode men, how gret peyne felawschipith
 and folweth hem! For thou hast
80 lerned a litil herebyforn that alle thing that
 is and hath beynge is oon, and thilke same
 oon is good: than is this the consequence, that
 it semeth wel that al that is and hath beynge
 is good. (This is to seyn, as who seith that
 beinge and unite and goodnesse is al oon.)
 And in this manere it folweth thanne that alle
 thing that fayleth to ben good, it stynteth for
 to be and for to han any beynge. Wherfore it
 es that schrewes stynten for to ben that
90 thei weeren. But thilke othir forme [of] [the]
 [body] of mankynde (that is to seyn, the
 [forme] withowte) scheweth yit that thise
 schrewes weren whilom men. Wherfore, whan
 thei ben perverted and turned into malice,
 certes, thanne have thei forlorn the nature of
 mankynde. But so as oonly bownte and prowesse
 may enhawnsen every man over othere
 men, than moot it nedes be that schrewes,
 whiche that schrewednesse hath cast out of
100 the condicion of mankynde, ben put undir
 the merit and the dissert of men. Than
 betidith it that, yif thou seest a wyght that be
 transformed into vices, thow ne mayst nat wene
 that he be a man. For if he be ardaunt in avaryce,
 and that he be a ravynour by violence of foreyne
 richesse, thou schalt seyn that he is lik to the
 wolf; and if he be felonows and withoute reste,
 and exercise his tonge to chidynges, thow schalt
 likne hym to the hownd; and if he be a
110 pryve awaytour yhid, and rejoiseth hym to
 ravyssche be wiles, thow schalt seyn hym
 lik to the fox whelpes; and yif he be distempre,
 and quakith for ire, men schal wene that he
 bereth the corage of a lyoun; and yif he be
 dredful and fleynge, and dredith thinges that ne
 aughte nat to ben dredd, men schal holden hym
 lik to the hert; and yf he be slow, and astonyd,
 and lache, he lyveth as an asse; yif he be lyght
 and unstedfast of corage and chaungith ay
120 his studies, he is likned to briddes; and if he
 be ploungid in fowle and unclene luxuris,
 he is withholden in the foule delices of the fowle
 sowe. Than folweth it that he that forleteth
 bounte and prowesse, he forletith to ben a man;
 syn he ne may nat passe into the condicion of
 God, he is torned into a beeste.
 "Eurus, the wynd, aryved the sayles of Ulixes,
 duc of the cuntre of Narice, and his wandrynge
 shippes by the see, into the ile theras
 Cerces, the faire goddesse, dowhter of the
 sonne, duelleth, that medleth to hir newe
 gestes drynkes that ben touchid and makid
 with enchauntementz. And aftir that hir hand,
 myghti over the erbes, hadde chaunged hir
 gestes into diverse maneres, that oon of
10 hem is coverid his face with forme of a
 boor; the tother is chaungid into a lyoun
 of the contre of Marmoryke, and his nayles and
 his teth waxen; that oother of hem is newliche
 chaunged into a wolf, and howleth whan he
 wolde wepe; that other goth debonayrely in
 the hows as a tigre of Inde. But al be it so
 that the godhede of Mercurie, that is cleped
 the bridde of Arcadye, hath had merci of the
 duc Ulixes, bysegid with diverse yveles,
20 and hath unbownden hym fro the pestilence
 of his oostesse, algates the rowerys
 and the maryneres hadden by this idrawen into
 hir mouthes and dronken the wikkide drynkes.
 Thei that weren woxen swyn hadden by this
 ichaunged hir mete of breed for to eten akkornes
 of ookes. Noon of hir lymes ne duelleth
 with hem hool, but thei han lost the voys
 and the body; oonly hir thought duelleth with
 hem stable, that wepeth and bywayleth the
30 monstruous chaungynge that thei suffren.
 O overlyght hand! (As who seith. O
 feble and light is the hand of Circes the enchaunteresse,
 that chaungith the bodyes of
 folk into beestes, to regard and to comparysoun
 of mutacioun that is makid by vices!)
 Ne the herbes of Circes ne ben nat myghty.
 For al be it so that thei mai chaungen the
 lymes of the body, algates yit thei may nat
 chaungen the hertes. For withinne is ihidd
40 the strengthe and the vygour of men, in the
 secre tour of hir hertes, (that is to seyn, the
 strengthe of resoun); but thilke venyms of vices
 todrawen a man to hem more myghtely than
 the venym of Circes. For vices ben so cruel
 that they percen and thurw-passen the corage
 withinne; and, thoughe thei ne anoye nat the
 body, yit vices woden to destroyen men by
 wounde of thought."
 Thanne seide I thus: "I confesse and am
 aknowe it," quod I, "ne I ne se nat that men
 may seyn as by ryght that schrewes ne ben
 chaunged into beestes by the qualite of hir
 soules, al be it so that thei kepin yit the forme
 of the body of mankynde. But I nolde nat of
 schrewes, of whiche the thought crwel woodeth
 alwey into destruccion of gode men, that
 it were leveful to hem to don that."
10 "Certes," quod sche, "ne it is nat leveful
 to hem, as I schal wel schewen the in covenable
 place. But natheles, yif so were that
 thilke that men wenen ben leveful to schrewes
 were bynomyn hem, so that they ne myghte
 nat anoyen or doon harm to gode men, certes
 a gret partie of the peyne to schrewes scholde
 ben alegged and releved. For al be it so that
 this ne seme nat credible thing peraventure to
 some folk, yit moot it nedes be that
20 schrewes ben more wrecches and unsely
 whan thei mai doon and parforme that
 thei coveyten, than yif thei ne myghte nat
 acomplissen that thei coveiten. For yif so
 be that it be wrecchidnesse to wilne to doon
 yvel, thanne is it more wrecchidnesse to mowe
 don yvel, withoute whiche mowynge the wrecchid
 wil scholde langwisse withouten effect.
 Thanne syn that everiche of thise thinges hath his
 wrecchidnesse (that is to seyn, wil to don
30 ivel and mowynge to don yvel), it moot
 nedes be that schrewes ben constreyned by
 thre unselynesses, that wolen, and mowen, and
 parformen felonyes and schrewednesses."
 "I acorde me," quod I; "but I desire gretly
 that schrewes losten sone thilke unselynesses,
 that is to seyn, that schrewes weren despoyled
 of mowynge to don yvel."
 "So schollen thei," quod sche, "sonnere peraventure
 than thou woldest, or sonnere
40 than they hemselve wene. For ther nis
 nothing so late, in so schorte bowndes of
 this lif, that is long to abyde, nameliche to a corage
 immortel. Of whiche schrewes the grete
 hope and the heye compassynges of schrewednesses
 is ofte destroyed by a sodeyn ende, or
 thei ben war; and that thing establisseth to
 schrewes the ende of hir schrewednesse. For
 yf that schrewednesse makith wrecches, than
 mot he nedes ben moost wrecchide that
50 lengest is a schrewe. The whiche wikkide
 schrewes wolde I demen althermost unsely
 and kaytifs, yif that hir schrewednesse ne were
 fynissched at the leste weye by the owtreste
 deth; for yif I have concluded soth of the unselynesse
 of schrewednesse, thanne schewith it
 clerly that thilke wrecchidnesse is withouten
 ende the whiche is certein to ben perdurable."
 "Certes," quod I, "this conclusioun is hard and
 wondirful to graunte; but I knowe wel
60 that it accordeth moche to the thinges that
 I have grauntid herebiforn."
 "Thou hast," quod sche, "the ryght estimacion
 of this. But whosoevere wene that it be
 an hard thing to accorde hym to a conclusioun,
 it is ryght that he schewe that some
 of the premysses ben false, or elles he mot
 schewe that the collacioun of proposicions
 nis nat spedful to a necessarie conclusioun;
 and yif it ne be nat so, but that the premisses
70 ben ygraunted, ther nys nat why he
 scholde blame the argument. For this thing
 that I schal telle the now ne schal nat seme
 lesse wondirful, but of the thingis that ben
 taken also it is necessarie." (As who seith, it
 folweth of that which that is purposed byforn.)
 "What is that?" quod I.
 "Certes," quod sche, "that is that thise wikkid
 schrewes ben more blisful, or elles
80 lasse wrecches, that abyen the tormentz
 that thei han desservid, than if no peyne of
 justise ne chastisede hem. Ne this ne seie I
 nat now for that any man myghte thinke that
 the maneris of schrewes ben coriged and chastised
 by vengeaunce and that thei ben brought
 to the ryghte weye by the drede of the torment,
 ne for that they yeven to other folk ensaumple
 to fleen fro vices; but I undirstonde yit in another
 manere that schrewes ben more unsely
90 whan thei ne ben nat punyssched, al
 be it so that ther ne be hadde no resoun or
 lawe of correccioun, ne noon ensample of
 lokynge."
 "And what manere schal that be," quod I,
 "other than hath ben told herbyforn?"
 "Have we nat thanne graunted," quod sche,
 "that good folk ben blisful and schrewes ben
 wrecches?"
 "Yis," quod I.
100 "Thanne," quod sche, "yif that any good
 were added to the wrecchidnesse of any
 wyght, nis he nat more blisful than he that
 ne hath no medlynge of good in his solitarie
 wrecchidnesse?"
 "So semeth it," quod I.
 "And what seistow thanne," quod sche, "of
 thilke wrecche that lakketh alle goodes so that
 no good nys medlyd in his wrecchidnesse,
 and yit over al his wikkidnesse, for which
110 he is a wrecche, that ther be yit another
 yvel anexed and knyt to hym -- schal nat
 men demen hym more unsely thanne thilke
 wrecche of whiche the unselynesse is relevid by
 the participacioun of som good?"
 "Why sholde he nat?" quod I.
 "Thanne certes," quod sche, "han schrewes,
 whan thei ben punyschid, somwhat of good
 anexid to hir wrecchidnesse (that is to seyn, the
 same peyne that thei suffren, which that is
120 good by the resoun of justice); and whanne
 thilke same schrewes ascapen withouten
 torment, than han they somwhat more of yvel
 yit over the wikkidnesse that thei han don, that
 is to seyn, defaute of peyne, whiche defaute of
 peyne thou hast grauntid is yvel for the disserte
 of felonye?"
 "I ne may nat denye it," quod I.
 "Moche more thanne," quod sche, "ben
 schrewes unsely whan thei ben wrongfully
130 delivred fro peyne, thanne whan thei
 ben punyschid by ryghtful vengeaunce.
 But this is opene thing and cleer, that it is ryght
 that schrewes ben punyschid, and it is wikkidnesse
 and wrong that thei escapen unpunyschid."
 "Who myghte denye that?" quod I.
 "But," quod sche, "may any man denye that
 al that is ryght nis good, and also the contrarie,
 that al that is wrong is wikke?"
140 "Certes," quod I, "thise thinges ben
 clere ynowe, and [folwen that] that we han
 concluded a lytel herebyforn. But I preye the
 that thow telle me, yif thow accordest to leten
 no torment to the soules aftir that the body is
 ended by the deeth?" (This to seyn, "Undirstondestow
 aught that soules han any
 torment aftir the deeth of the body?")
 "Certes," quod sche, "ye, and that ryght
 greet. Of whiche soules," quod sche, "I
150 trowe that some ben tormented by asprenesse
 of peyne, and some soules I trowe
 ben excercised by a purgynge mekenesse; but
 my conseil nys nat to determyne of thise peynes.
 "But I have travailed and told yit hiderto for
 thou scholdest knowe that the mowynge of
 schrewes, whiche mowynge the semeth to ben
 unworthy, nis no mowynge; and ek of schrewes,
 of whiche thou pleynedest that they ne were nat
 punysschid, that thow woldest seen that
160 thei ne were neveremo withouten the
 tormentz of hir wikkidnesse; and of the
 licence of mowynge to don yvel that thou
 preyedest that it myghte sone ben ended, and
 that thou woldest fayn lernen that it ne sholde
 nat longe endure, and that schrewes ben more
 unsely yif thei were of lengere durynge, and
 most unsely yif thei weren perdurable. And aftir
 this I have schewyd the that more unsely ben
 schrewes whan thei escapen withouten hir
170 ryghtful peyne thanne whan thei ben
 punyschid by ryghtful venjaunce; and of
 this sentence folweth it that thanne ben schrewes
 constreyned at the laste with most grevous
 torment, whan men wene that thei ne ben nat
 punyssched."
 "Whan I considere thi resouns," quod I, "I ne
 trowe nat that men seyn any thing more
 verrayly. And yif I turne ayein to the studies of
 men, who is he to whom it sholde seme that
180 he ne scholde nat oonly leven thise thinges,
 but ek gladly herkne hem?"
 "Certes," quod sche, "so it es -- but men may
 nat. For they have hir eien so wont to the
 derknesse of erthly thinges that they ne may nat
 lyften hem up to the light of cler sothfastnesse,
 but thei ben lyk to briddes of whiche the nyght
 lightneth hir lokynge and the day blendith hem.
 For whan men loke nat the ordre of thinges, but
 hir lustes and talentz, they wene that either
190 the leve or the mowynge to don wikkidnesse,
 or elles the scapynge withouten
 peyne be weleful.
 "But considere the jugement of the perdurable
 lawe. For yif thou conferme thi corage to the
 beste thinges, thow ne hast noon nede of no juge
 to yeven the prys or mede; for thow hast joyned
 thiself to the most excellent thing. And yif thow
 have enclyned thi studies to the wikkide thinges,
 ne seek no foreyne wrekere out of thiself;
200 for thow thiself hast thrist thiself into wikke
 thinges, ryght as thow myghtest loken by
 diverse tymes the fowle erthe and the hevene,
 and that alle othere thinges stynten fro withoute,
 so that thow nere neyther in [hevene] ne in
 erthe, ne saye no thyng more; thanne scholde it
 semen to the as by oonly resoun of lokynge that
 thow were now in the sterres, and now in the
 erthe. But the peple ne loketh nat on these
 thinges. What thanne? Schal we thanne
210 approchen us to hem that I have schewed
 that thei ben lyke to beestes? And what
 wyltow seyn of this: yif that a man hadde al
 forlorn his syghte, and hadde foryeten that he
 evere sawhe, and wende that no thing ne faylede
 hym of perfeccioun of mankynde; now we that
 myghten sen the same thinges -- wolde we nat
 wene that he were blynd? Ne also ne accordeth
 nat the peple to that I schal seyn, the whiche
 thing is sustenyd by as stronge foundementz
220 of resouns, that is to seyn, that
 more unsely ben they that doon wrong to
 othere folk, than they that the wrong suffren."
 "I wolde here thilke same resouns," quod I.
 "Denyestow," quod sche, "that alle schrewes
 ne ben worthy to han torment?"
 "Nay," quod I.
 "But," quod sche, "I am certein by many
 resouns that schrewes ben unsely."
 "It accordeth," quod I.
230 "Thanne ne dowtestow nat," quod sche,
 "that thilke folk that ben worthy of
 torment, that they ne ben wrecches?"
 "It accordeth wel," quod I.
 "Yif thou were thanne iset a juge or a
 knowere of thinges, whethir trowestow that men
 scholden tormenten, hym that hath don the
 wrong or elles hym that hath suffred the
 wrong?"
 "I ne doute nat," quod I, "that I nolde
240 doon suffisaunt satisfaccioun to hym that
 hadde suffrid the wrong, by the sorwe of
 hym that hadde doon the wrong."
 "Thanne semeth it," quod sche, "that the
 doere of wrong is more wrecche than he that
 hath suffride wrong?"
 "That folweth wel," quod I.
 "Than," quod sche, "by thise causes and by
 othere causes that ben enforced by the same
 roote, that filthe [of] synne be the propre
250 nature of it maketh men wrecches, [it]
 scheweth wel that the wrong that men
 doon nis nat the wrecchidnesse of hym that
 resceyveth the wrong, but the wrecchidnesse of
 hym that dooth the wrong. But certes," quod
 sche, "thise oratours or advocattes don al the
 contrarie; for thei enforcen hem to commoeve
 the juges to han pite of hem that han suffrid
 and resceyved the thinges that ben grevous
 and aspre, and yit men scholden more
260 ryghtfully han pite of hem that doon the
 grevances and the wronges: the whiche
 schrewes it were a more covenable thing that the
 accusours or advocattes, nat wrooth but pytous
 and debonayre, ledden tho schrewes that han
 don wrong to the jugement ryght as men leden
 syke folk to the leche, for that thei sholden seken
 out the maladyes of synne by torment. And
 by this covenant, eyther the entent of the
 deffendours or advocatz sholde fayle and
270 cesen in al, or elles, yif the office of
 advocatz wolde betre profiten to men, it
 sholde be torned into the habyte of accusacioun.
 (That is to seyn, thei scholden accuse
 schrewes, and nat excusen hem.) And eek the
 schrewes hemself, yif it were leveful to hem to
 seen at any clifte the vertu that thei han forleten,
 and sawen that they scholden putten adoun the
 filthes of hir vices by the tormentz of peynes,
 they ne aughten nat, ryght for the
280 recompensacioun for to geten hem bounte
 and prowesse whiche that thei han lost,
 demen ne holden that thilke peynes weren
 tormentz to hem; and eek thei wolden refuse the
 attendaunce of hir advocattz, and taken hemself
 to hir juges and to hir accusours. For whiche it
 betydeth that, as to the wise folk, ther nis no
 place yleten to hate (that is to seyn, that hate
 ne hath no place among wise men); for no
 wyght nil haten gode men, but yif he were
290 overmochel a fool, and for to haten
 schrewes it nis no resoun. For ryght so as
 langwissynge is maladye of body, ryght so ben
 vices and synne maladye of corage; and so as we
 ne deme nat that they that ben sike of hir body
 ben worthy to ben hated, but rather worthy of
 pite; wel more worthy nat to ben hated, but
 for to ben had in pite, ben thei of whiche
 the thoughtes ben constreyned by felonous
 wikkidnesse, that is more crwel than any
300 langwissynge of body.
 "What deliteth yow to exciten so grete moevynges
 of hatredes, and to hasten and bysien
 the fatal disposicioun of your deth with your
 propre handes (that is to seyn, by batayles or
 contek)? For yif ye axen the deth, it hasteth
 hym of his owene wil, ne deth ne taryeth nat
 his swifte hors. And the men that the serpent,
 and the lyoun, and the tigre, and the
 bere, and the boor, seken to sleen with hir
10 teeth, yit thilke same men seken to sleen
 everiche of hem oothir with swerd. Lo, for
 hir maneres ben diverse and discordaunt, thei
 moeven unryghtful oostes and cruel batayles,
 and wilnen to perise by entrechaungynge of
 dartes! But the resoun of cruelte nis nat inowhe
 ryghtful. Wiltow thanne yelden a covenable
 gerdoun to the dissertes of men? Love ryghtfully
 good folk, and have pite on schrewes."
 "Thus se I wel," quod I, "eyther what blisfulnesse
 or elles what unselynesse is establisshid
 in the dissertes of gode men and of
 schrewes. But in this ilke fortune of peple I
 se somwhat of good and somwhat of yvel. For
 no wise man hath nat levere ben exiled, pore
 and nedy and nameles, thanne for to duellen
 in his cyte, and flouren of rychesses, and be
 redowtable by honour and strong of power.
10 For in this wise more clerly and more witnesfully
 is the office of wise men ytreted,
 whanne the blisfulnesse and the pouste of
 gouvernours is, as it ware, ischadde among peples
 that ben neyghbors and subgitz; syn that
 namely prisown, lawe, and thise othere tormentz
 of laweful peynes ben rather owed to
 felonus citezeins, for the whiche felonus citezeens
 tho peynes ben establisschid than for
 good folk.
20 "Thanne I merveile me gretly," quod I,
 "why that the thinges ben so mysentrechaunged
 that tormentz of felonyes pressen and
 confounden good folk, and schrewes ravysschen
 medes of vertu and ben in honours
 and in grete estatz; and I desire eek for to
 witen of the what semeth the to be the resoun
 of this so wrongful a confusioun; for I wolde
 wondre wel the lasse, yif I trowede that alle
 thise thinges weren medled by fortunows
30 hap. But now hepith and encreseth myn
 astonyenge God, governour of thinges,
 that, so as God yyveth ofte tymes to gode men
 godes and myrthes, and to schrewes yvelis and
 aspre thinges, and yeveth ayeinward to good
 folk hardnesses, and to schrewes he graunteth
 hem hir wil and that they desiren -- what difference
 thanne may ther be bytwixen that that
 God doth and the hap of fortune, yif men ne
 knowe nat the cause why that it is?"
40 "Ne it nis no merveile," quod sche,
 "thowh that men wenen that ther be somwhat
 foolisshe and confus, whan the resoun of
 the ordre is unknowe. But although that thou
 ne knowe nat the cause of so gret a disposicioun,
 natheles for as moche as God, the gode
 governour, atempreth and governeth the world,
 ne doute the nat that alle thinges ne ben don
 aryght.
 "Whoso that ne knowe nat the sterres of
 Arctour, ytorned neyghe to the sovereyne centre
 or poynt (that is to seyn, ytorned neyghe to
 the sovereyne pool of the firmament), and wot
 nat why the sterre Boetes passeth or gadreth
 his waynes and drencheth his late flaumbes in
 the see; and whi that Boetes, the sterre, unfooldeth
 hise overswifte arysynges, thanne schal
 he wondryn of the lawe of the heie eyr.
10 And eek yif that he ne knowe nat why that
 the hornes of the fulle mone waxen pale
 and infect by bowndes of the derk nyght, and
 how the mone derk and confus discovereth the
 sterres that sche hadde covered by hir clere
 vysage. The comune errour moeveth folk, and
 [the Coribantes maken hir tabours sounen and
 maken] weery hir basyns of bras by thikke
 strokes. (That is to seyn, that ther is a maner
 peple that hyghte Coribantes, that wenen
20 that whan the mone is in the eclips that
 it be enchaunted, and therfore for to
 rescowe the mone thei betyn hir basyns with
 thikke strokes.) Ne no man ne wondreth
 whanne the blastes of the wynd Chorus beten
 the strondes of the see by quakynge floodes; ne
 no man ne wondrith whan the weighte of the
 snowh, ihardid by the cold, is resolvyd by the
 brennynge hete of Phebus, the sonne; for her
 seen men redily the causes. But [ther] the
30 causes yhidd (that is to seyn, in hevene)
 trowblen the brestes of men. The
 moevable peple is astoned of alle thinges that
 comen seelde and sodeynly in our age; but yif
 the trubly errour of our ignoraunce departed fro
 us, so that we wisten the causes why that swiche
 thinges bytyden, certes thei scholde cesen to
 seme wondres."
 "Thus is it," quod I. "But so as thou hast
 yeven or byhyght me to unwrappen the hidde
 causes of thinges, and to discovere me the
 resouns covered with derknes, I preie the that
 thou devyse and juge me of this matere, and
 that thou do me to undirstonden it. For this
 miracle or this wonder trowbleth me ryght
 gretly."
 And thanne sche, a litelwhat smylinge,
10 seide: "Thou clepist me," quod sche, "to
 telle thing that is gretteste of alle thingis
 that mowen ben axed, and to the whiche questioun
 unethes is ther aught inowh to laven
 it. (As who seith, unnethes is ther suffisauntly
 any thing to answeren parfitly to thy questioun.)
 For the matere of it is swich, that
 whan o doute is determined and kut awey, ther
 waxen othere doutes withoute nombre, ryght
 as the hevedes wexen of Idre, the serpent
20 that Hercules slowh. Ne ther ne were no
 manere ne noon ende, but if that a wyght
 constreynede tho doutes by a ryght lifly and
 quyk fir of thought (that is to seyn, by vigour
 and strengthe of wit). For in this matere
 men weren wont to maken questiouns of the
 symplicite of the purveaunce of God, and of
 the ordre of destyne, and of sodeyn hap, and
 of the knowynge and predestinacioun devyne,
 and of the liberte of fre wil; the whiche
30 thinges thou thiself aperceyvest wel of
 what weighte thei ben. But for as moche
 as the knowynge of thise thinges is a maner
 porcioun of the medycyne to the, al be it so
 that I have litil tyme to doon it, yit natheles
 Y wol enforcen me to schewe somwhat of it.
 But although the noryssynges of dite of musyk
 deliteth the, thou most suffren and forberen a
 litel of thilke delit, whil that I weve to the resouns
 yknyt by ordre."
40 "As it liketh to the," quod I, "so do."
 Tho spak sche ryght as by another bygynnynge,
 and seide thus: "The engendrynge
 of alle thinges," quod sche, "and alle the progressiouns
 of muable nature, and al that moeveth
 in any manere, taketh hise causes, his ordre,
 and his formes, of the stablenesse of the devyne
 thought. And thilke devyne thought that
 is iset and put in the tour (that is to seyn, in
 the heighte) of the simplicite of God, stablissith
50 many maner gises to thinges that ben
 to done; the whiche manere whan that
 men looken it in thilke pure clennesse of the
 devyne intelligence, it is ycleped purveaunce;
 but whanne thilke manere is referred by men
 to thinges that it moeveth and disponyth, than
 of olde men it was clepyd destyne. The whiche
 thinges yif that any wyght loketh wel in his
 thought the strengthe of that oon and of that
 oothir, he schal lyghtly mowen seen that
60 thise two thinges ben dyvers. For purveaunce
 is thilke devyne resoun that is establissed
 in the sovereyn prince of thinges, the
 whiche purveaunce disponith alle thinges; but,
 certes, destyne is the disposicioun and ordenance
 clyvynge to moevable thinges, by the
 whiche disposicion the purveaunce knytteth
 alle thingis in hir ordres; for purveaunce enbraceth
 alle thinges to-hepe, althoghe that thei
 ben diverse and although thei ben infinit.
70 But destyne, certes, departeth and ordeyneth
 alle thinges singulerly and devyded in
 moevynges in places, in formes, in tymes, as
 thus: lat the unfoldynge of temporel ordenaunce,
 assembled and oonyd in the lokynge
 of the devyne thought, be cleped purveaunce,
 and thilke same assemblynge and oonynge, devyded
 and unfolden by tymes, lat that ben
 called destyne.
 "And al be it so that thise thinges ben
80 diverse, yit natheles hangeth that oon of
 that oother; forwhi the ordre destynal
 procedith of the simplicite of purveaunce. For
 ryght as a werkman that aperceyveth in his
 thought the forme of the thing that he wol make,
 and moeveth the effect of the werk, and ledith
 that he hadde lookid byforn in his thought
 symplely and presently by temporel ordenaunce;
 certes, ryght so God disponith in his
 purveaunce singulerly and stablely the
90 thinges that ben to doone; but he
 amynistreth in many maneris and in diverse
 tymes by destyne thilke same thinges that he
 hath disponyd. Thanne, whethir that destyne be
 exercised outhir by some devyne spiritz,
 servantz to the devyne purveaunce, or elles by
 some soule, or elles by alle nature servynge to
 God, or elles by the celestial moevynges of
 sterres, or ellis by vertu of aungelis, or elles by
 divers subtilite of develis, or elles by any of
100 hem, or elles by hem alle the destinal
 ordenaunce is ywoven and acomplissid,
 certes, it es opene thing that the purveaunce is
 an unmoevable and symple forme of thinges
 to doone, and the moevable bond and the
 temporel ordenaunce of thinges whiche that the
 devyne symplicite of purveaunce hath ordeyned
 to doone, that is destyne.
 "For whiche it is that alle thinges that ben
 put undir destyne ben certes subgitz to
110 purveaunce, to whiche purveaunce destyne
 itself is subgit and under. But some thinges
 ben put undir purveaunce, that sourmounten
 the ordenance of destyne; and tho ben thilke
 that stablely ben ifycchid neyghe to the first
 godhede. They surmounten the ordre of
 destynal moevablete. For ryght as of cerklis that
 tornen aboute a same centre or aboute a poynt,
 thilke cerkle that is innerest or most withinne
 joyneth to the symplesse of the myddle,
120 and is, as it were, a centre or a poynt to the
 tothere cerklis that tornen abouten hym;
 and thilke that is utterest, compased by a largere
 envyrownynge, is unfolden by largere spaces in
 so moche as it is ferthest fro the myddel
 symplicite of the poynt; and yif ther be any thing
 that knytteth and felawschipeth hymself to thilke
 myddel poynt, it is constreyned into simplicite
 (that is to seyn, into unmoevablete), and it
 ceseth to ben schad and to fleten diversely;
130 ryght so, by semblable reson, thilke thing
 that departeth ferrest fro the firste thought
 of God, it is unfolden and summittid to grettere
 bondes of destyne; and in so moche is the thing
 more fre and laus fro destyne, as it axeth and
 hooldeth hym neer to thilke centre of thinges
 (that is to seyn, to God); and yif the thing
 clyveth to the stedfastnesse of the thought of
 God and be withoute moevynge, certes it
 surmounteth the necessite of destyne.
140 Thanne ryght swich comparysoun as is of
 skillynge to undirstondyng, and of thing
 that ys engendrid to thing that is, and of tyme to
 eternite, and of the cercle to the centre; ryght so
 is the ordre of moevable destyne to the stable
 symplicite of purveaunce.
 "Thilke ordenaunce moveth the hevene and
 the sterres, and atemprith the elementz togidre
 amonges hemself, and transformeth hem by
 entrechaungeable mutacioun. And thilke
150 same ordre neweth ayein alle thinges
 growynge and fallynge adoun, by semblable
 progressions of sedes and of sexes (that
 is to seyn, male and femele). And this ilke
 ordre constreyneth the fortunes and the dedes of
 men by a bond of causes nat able to ben
 unbownde; the whiche destynal causes, whan
 thei passen out fro the bygynnynges of the
 unmoevable purveaunce, it moot nedes be that
 thei ne be nat mutable. And thus ben the
160 thinges ful wel igoverned yif that the
 symplicite duellynge in the devyne thoght
 scheweth forth the ordre of causes unable to ben
 ibowed. And this ordre constreyneth by his
 propre stablete the moevable thingis, or elles
 thei scholden fleten folyly.
 "For whiche it es that alle thingis semen to
 ben confus and trouble to us men, for we ne
 mowen nat considere thilke ordenaunce.
 Natheles the propre maner of every thing,
170 dressynge hem to gode, disponith hem alle,
 for ther nys no thing doon for cause of yvel,
 ne thilk thing that is doon by wikkid folk nys nat
 doon for yvel, the whiche schrewes, as I have
 schewed ful plentyvously, seken good, but
 wikkid errour mystorneth hem; ne the ordre
 comynge fro the poynt of sovereyn good ne
 declyneth nat fro his bygynnynge.
 "But thou mayst seyn, `What unreste may ben
 a worse confusioun than that gode men
180 han somtyme adversite and somtyme
 prosperite, and schrewes also han now
 thingis that they desiren and now thinges that
 thei haten?' Whethir men lyven now in swich
 holnesse of thought (as who seith, ben men now
 so wyse) that swiche folk as thei demen to ben
 gode folk or schrewes, that it moste nedes ben
 that folk ben swiche as thei wenen? But in this
 manere the domes of men discorden, that thilke
 men that som folk demen worthy of mede,
190 other folk demen hem worthy of torment.
 But lat us graunten, I pose, that som man
 may wel demen or knowen the good folk and
 the badde; may he thanne knowen and seen
 thilke innereste atempraunce of corages as it
 hath ben wont to ben seyd of bodyes? (As who
 seith, may a man speken and determinen of
 atempraunce in corages, as men were wont to
 demen or speken of complexions and atempraunces
 of bodies?) Ne it ne is nat an
200 unlike miracle to hem that ne knowen it nat
 (as who seith, but it is lik a mervayle or
 miracle to hem that ne knowen it nat) whi
 that swete thinges ben covenable to some bodies
 that ben hole, and to some bodies byttere
 thinges ben covenable; and also why that some
 syk folk ben holpen with lyghte medicynes, and
 some folk ben holpen with sharpe medicynes.
 But natheles the leche, that knoweth the manere
 and the atempraunce of hele and of
210 maladye, ne merveyleth of it nothyng. But
 what othir thing semeth hele of corages but
 bounte and prowesse? And what othir thing
 semeth maladye of corages but vices? Who is
 elles kepere of good or dryvere awey of yvel but
 God, governour and lechere of thoughtes? The
 whiche God, whan he hath byholden from the
 hye tour of his purveaunce, he knoweth what is
 covenable to every wight, and lenyth hem that
 he woot that is covenable to hem. Lo, herof
220 comyth and herof is don this noble miracle
 of the ordre destynal, whan God, that al
 knoweth, dooth swiche thing, of whiche thing
 unknowynge folk ben astonyd.
 "But for to constreyne (as who seith, but for
 to comprehende and to telle) a fewe thingis of
 the devyne depnesse the whiche that mannys
 resoun may undirstonde, thilke man that thow
 wenest to ben ryght just and ryght kepynge of
 equite, the contrarie of that semeth to the
230 devyne purveaunce, that al woot. And
 Lucan, my famylier, telleth that the
 victorious cause likide to the goddes, and the
 cause overcomen likide to Catoun. Thanne
 whatsoevere thou mayst seen that is doon in this
 world unhopid or unwened, certes it es the
 ryghte ordre of thinges, but as to thi wikkid
 opynioun it is a confusioun. But I suppose that
 som man be so wel ithewed that the devyne
 jugement and the jugement of mankynde
240 accorden hem togidre of hym; but he is so
 unstidfast of corage that, yif any adversite
 come to hym, he wol forleten peraventure to
 continue innocence by the whiche he ne may
 nat withholden fortune. Thanne the wise
 dispensacion of God sparith hym, the whiche
 man adversite myghte enpeyren; for that God
 wol nat suffren hym to travaile to whom that
 travaile nis nat covenable. Anothir man is parfit
 in alle vertus, and is an holi man and neigh
250 to God, so that the purveaunce of God
 wolde deme that it were a felonie that he
 were touched with any adversites; so that he wol
 nat suffre that swich a man be moeved with any
 bodily maladye. But so as seyde a philosophre,
 the more excellent by me -- he seyde in Grec
 that `vertues han edified the body of the holi
 man.'
 "And ofte tyme it betydeth that the somme of
 thingis that ben to done is taken to governe
260 to good folk, for that the malice
 haboundaunt of schrewes scholde ben
 abated. And God yeveth and departeth to other
 folk prosperites and adversites imedled to-hepe
 aftir the qualite of hir corages, and remordith
 some folk by adversite, for thei ne scholden nat
 waxen proude by long welefulnesse; and other
 folk he suffreth to ben travailed with harde
 thinges for that thei scholden confermen the
 vertues of corage by the usage and the
270 exercitacioun of pacience. And other folk
 dreden more than thei oughten the whiche
 thei myghte wel beren, and thilke folk God
 ledeth into experience of hemself by aspre and
 sorweful thingis. And many other folk han
 bought honourable renoun of this world by the
 prys of glorious deth; and som men, that ne
 mowen nat ben overcomen by torment, han
 yeven ensample to other folk that vertu mai nat
 ben overcomyn by adversites. And of alle
280 thise thinges ther nis no doute that thei ne
 ben doon ryghtfully and ordeynly, to the
 profit of hem to whom we seen thise thingis
 betyde.
 "For certes, that adversite cometh somtyme to
 schrewes and somtyme that that they desiren, it
 comith of thise forseyde causes. And of sorweful
 thinges that betyden to schrewes, certes, no man
 ne wondreth. for alle men wenen that thei han
 wel desservid it, and that thei ben of wykkid
290 meryt. Of whiche schrewes the torment
 somtyme agasteth othere to don felonyes,
 and somtyme it amendeth hem that suffren the
 tormentz; and the prosperite that is yeven to
 schrewes scheweth a gret argument to good
 folk what thing thei scholde demen of thilke
 welefulnesse, the whiche prosperite men seen
 ofte serven to schrewes. In the whiche thing I
 trowe that God dispenseth. For peraventure the
 nature of som man is so overthrowynge to
300 yvel, and so uncovenable, that the nedy
 poverte of his houshold myghte rather
 egren hym to don felonyes; and to the maladye
 of hym God putteth remedye to yeven hym
 rychesses. And som othir man byholdeth his
 conscience defouled with synnes, and makith
 comparysoun of his fortune and of hymself, and
 dredith peraventure that his blisfulnesse, of
 whiche the usage is joyeful to hym, that the
 lesynge of thilke blisfulnesse ne be nat
310 sorwful to hym; and therfore he wol
 chaunge his maneris, and, for he dredith to
 lesen his fortune, he forletith his wikkidnesse.
 To other folke is welefulnesse iyeven unworthely,
 the whiche overthroweth hem into
 destruccioun, that thei han disservid; and to som
 othir folk is yeven power to punysshen, for
 that it schal be cause of contynuacioun and
 exercisynge to good folk, and cause of torment
 to schrewes. For so as ther nis noon
320 alliaunce bytwixe good folk and schrewes,
 ne schrewes ne mowen nat acorden among
 hemself. And whi nat? For schrewes discorden
 of hemself by hir vices, the whiche vices al
 toreenden her consciences, and doon ofte time
 thinges the whiche thingis, whan thei han doon
 hem, they demen that tho thinges ne scholden
 nat han ben doon.
 "For whiche thing thilke sovereyne purveaunce
 hath makid ofte tyme fair
330 myracle, so that schrewes han makid
 schrewes to ben gode men. For whan that
 some schrewes seen that they suffren wrongfully
 felonyes of othere schrewes, they wexen
 eschaufed into hate of hem that anoyed hem,
 and retornen to the fruyt of vertu, whan thei
 studien to ben unlyke to hem that thei han hated.
 Certis oonly this is the devyne myght to the
 whiche myghte yvelis ben thanne gode whan it
 useth the yvelis covenably and draweth out
340 the effect of any good. (As who seith that
 yvel is good only to the myghte of God, for
 the myght of God ordeyneth thilke yvel to
 good.)
 "For oon ordre enbraseth alle thinges, so that
 what wyght that departeth fro the resoun of
 thilke ordre whiche that is assigned to hym,
 algatis yit he slideth into an othir ordre; so that
 no thing nis leveful to folye in the reaume of the
 devyne purveaunce (as who seith, no
350 thing nis withouten ordenaunce in the
 reame of the devyne purveaunce), syn that
 the ryght strong God governeth alle thinges in
 this world. For it nis nat leveful to man to
 comprehenden by wit, ne unfolden by word,
 alle the subtil ordenaunces and disposiciounis of
 the devyne entente. For oonly it owghte suffise
 to han lokid that God hymself, makere of alle
 natures, ordeineth and dresseth alle thingis to
 gode; whil that he hasteth to withholden
360 the thingis that he hath makid into his
 semblaunce (that is to seyn, for to withholden
 thingis into gode, for he hymself is
 good), he chasith out alle yvel fro the boundes
 of his comynalite by the ordre of necessite
 destinable. For whiche it folweth that, yif thou
 loke the purveaunce ordeynynge the thinges
 that men wenen ben outraious or haboundaunt
 in erthis, thou ne schalt nat seen in no place no
 thing of yvel.
370 "But I se now that thou art charged with
 the weyghte of the questioun, and wery
 with the lengthe of my resoun, and that thou
 abydest som swetnesse of songe. Tak thanne this
 drawght, and, whanne thou art wel reffressched
 and refect, thou schalt be more stedfast to stye
 into heyere questions or thinges.
 "Yif thou, wys, wilt demen in thi pure thought
 the ryghtes or the lawes of the heye thondrere
 (that is to seyn, of God), loke thou and byhoold
 the heightes of the sovereyn hevene.
 Ther kepin the sterres, be ryghtful alliaunce of
 thinges, hir oolde pees. The sonne, imoevid by
 his rody fyr, ne distorbeth nat the colde cercle
 of the mone. Ne the sterre yclepid the Bere,
 that enclyneth his ravysschynge coursis
10 abowte the sovereyn heighte of the world
 -- ne the same sterre Ursa nis nevere mo
 wasschen in the depe westrene see, ne coveyteth
 nat to deeyen his flaumbes in the see
 of the Occian, although it see othere sterres
 iplowngid in the see. And Hesperus the sterre
 bodith and telleth alwey the late nyghtes, and
 Lucyfer the sterre bryngeth ayein the clere
 day.
 "And thus maketh Love entrechaungeable
20 the perdurable courses; and thus is discordable
 bataile yput out of the contre of
 the sterres. This accordaunce atempryth by evenelyke
 maneres the elementz, that the moiste
 thingis, stryvynge with the drye thingis, yeven
 place by stoundes; and that the colde thingis
 joynen hem by feyth to the hote thingis; and
 that the lyghte fyr ariseth into heighte, and
 the hevy erthes avalen by her weyghtes. By
 thise same causes the floury yer yeldeth
30 swote smelles in the first somer sesoun
 warmynge; and the hote somer dryeth the
 cornes; and autumpne comith ayein hevy of
 apples; and the fletyng reyn bydeweth the
 wynter. This atempraunce norysscheth and
 bryngeth forth alle thinges that brethith lif
 in this world; and thilke same attempraunce,
 ravysschynge, hideth and bynymeth, and
 drencheth undir the laste deth, alle thinges
 iborn.
40 "Among thise thinges sitteth the heye
 makere, kyng and lord, welle and bygynnynge,
 lawe and wys juge to don equite, and
 governeth and enclyneth the brydles of thinges.
 And tho thinges that he stireth to gon by
 moevynge, he withdraweth and aresteth, and
 affermeth the moevable or wandrynge thinges.
 For yif that he ne clepide nat ayein the ryght
 goynge of thinges, and yif that he ne constreynede
 hem nat eftsones into roundnesses
50 enclyned, the thinges that ben now
 contynued by stable ordenaunce, thei scholden
 departen from hir welle (that is to seyn,
 from hir bygynnynge), and failen (that is to
 seyn, tornen into noght). This is the comune
 love to alle thingis, and alle thinges axen to ben
 holden by the fyn of good. For elles ne
 myghten they nat lasten yif thei ne comen nat
 eftsones ayein, by love retorned, to the cause
 that hath yeven hem beinge (that is to
60 seyn, to God).
 "Sestow nat thanne what thing folweth alle
 the thingis that I have seyd?"
 "What thing?" quod I.
 "Certes," quod sche, "al outrely that alle fortune
 is good."
 "And how may that be?" quod I.
 "Now undirstand," quod sche. "So as al fortune,
 whethir so it be joyeful fortune or aspre
 fortune, is yeven eyther by cause of gerdonynge
10 or elles of exercisynge of good
 folk or elles by cause to punysschen or elles
 chastisen schrewes; thanne is alle fortune good,
 the whiche fortune is certeyn that it be either
 ryghtful or elles profitable."
 "Forsothe this is a ful verray resoun," quod
 I; "and yif I considere the purveaunce and the
 destyne that thou taughtest me a litel herebyforn
 this sentence is sustenyd by stedfast
 resouns. But yif it like unto the, lat us
20 nombren [hyt] amonges thilke thingis, of
 whiche thow seydest a litel herebyforn that
 thei ne were nat able to ben wened to the
 peple."
 "Why so?" quod sche.
 "For that the comune word of men," quod I,
 "mysuseth this manere speche of fortune, and
 seyn ofte tymes that the fortune of som wyght
 is wikkid."
 "Woltow thanne," quod sche, "that I approche
30 a litil to the wordis of the peple,
 so that it seme nat to hem that I be overmoche
 departed as fro the usage of mankynde?"
 "As thou wilt," quod I.
 "Demestow nat," quod sche, "that alle thing
 that profiteth is good?"
 "Yis," quod I.
 "And certes thilke thing that exerciseth or
 corrigith profitith?"
 "I confesse it wel," quod I.
40 "Thanne is it good," quod sche.
 "Why nat?" quod I.
 "But this is the fortune," quod sche, "of hem
 that eyther ben put in vertu and batayllen
 ayein aspre thingis, or elles of hem that eschuen
 and declynen fro vices and taken the
 weye of vertu."
 "This ne mai I nat denye," quod I.
 "But what seistow of the merye fortune that
 is yeven to good folk in gerdoun -- demeth
50 aught the peple that it is wikkid?"
 "Nay forsothe," quod I; "but thei
 demen, as it soth is, that it is ryght good."
 "And what seistow of that othir fortune,"
 quod sche, "that, although it be aspre and
 restreyneth the schrewes by ryghtful torment,
 weneth aught the peple that it be good?"
 "Nay," quod I, "but the peple demeth that
 it is moost wrecchid of alle thingis that mai
 ben thought."
60 "War now and loke wel," quod sche,
 "lest that we, in folwynge the opynioun of
 the peple, have confessid and concluded thing
 that is unable to be wened to the peple."
 "What is that?" quod I.
 "Certis," quod sche, "it folweth or comith of
 thingis that ben grauntid that alle fortune, what
 so evere it be, of hem that ben eyther in possessioun
 of vertu, or in the encres of vertu, or
 elles in the purchasynge of vertu, that thilke
70 fortune is good; and that alle fortune is
 ryght wikkid to hem that duellen in
 schrewidnesse." (As who seith. "And thus
 weneth nat the peple.")
 "That is soth," quod I, "al be it so that no
 man dar confessen it ne byknowen it."
 "Whi so?" quod sche; "for ryght as the
 stronge man ne semeth nat to abaissen or disdaignen
 as ofte tyme as he herith the noyse
 of the bataile, ne also it ne semeth nat to
80 the wise man to beren it grevously as ofte
 as he is lad into the stryf of fortune. For,
 bothe to the to man and eek to the tothir thilke
 difficulte is the matere, to the to man of encres
 of his glorious renoun, and to the tothir man
 to confermen his sapience (that is to seyn, to the
 asprenesse of his estat). For therfore it is
 called `vertu,' for that it sustenith and enforceth
 by hise strengthes that it nis nat overcomen by
 adversites. Ne certes thou, that art put in
90 the encres or in the heyghte of vertu, ne
 hast nat comen to fleten with delices, and
 for to welken in bodily lust; thou sowest or
 plawntest a ful egre bataile in thy corage ayeins
 every fortune, for that the sorwful fortune ne
 confownde the nat, ne that the myrie fortune
 ne corrumpe the nat. Ocupye the mene by stidefast
 strengthes; for al that evere is undir the
 mene, or elles al that overpasseth the mene,
 despyseth welefulnesse (as who seith, it
100 is vycious), and ne hath no mede of his
 travaile. For it is set in your hand (as who
 seith, it lyth in your power) what fortune yow
 is levest (that is to seyn, good or yvel). For
 alle fortune that semeth scharp or aspre, yif it
 ne exercise nat the good folk ne chastiseth the
 wikkide folk, it punysseth.
 "The wrekere Attrides (that is to seyn, Agamenon),
 that wrought and contynued the batailes
 by ten yer, recovered and purgide in
 wrekynge, by the destruccioun of Troye, the
 loste chaumbris of mariage of his brothir.
 (That is to seyn, that he, Agamenon, wan ayein
 Eleyne that was Menelaus wif his brothir.)
 In the mene while that thilke Agamenon desirede
 to yeven sayles to the Grykkyssche
10 naveye, and boughte ayein the wyndes by
 blood, he unclothide hym of pite of fadir;
 and the sory preest yeveth in sacrifyenge the
 wrecchide kuttynge of throte of the doughter.
 (That is to seyn that Agamenon leet kutten the
 throte of his doughter by the preest, to maken
 alliaunce with his goddes and for to han wynd
 with whiche he myghte wenden to Troye.)
 "Ytakus (that is to seyn, Ulixes) bywepte his
 felawes ilorne, the whiche felawes the
20 fyerse Poliphemus, ligginge in his grete cave,
 had fretyn and dreynt in his empty wombe.
 But natheles Poliphemus, wood for his blynde
 visage, yald to Ulixes joye by his sorwful
 teres. (This to seyn, that Ulixes smoot out the
 eye of Poliphemus, that stood in his forheed,
 for whiche Ulixes hadde joye whan he say Poliphemus
 wepynge and blynd).
 "Hercules is celebrable for his harde travailes.
 He dawntide the proude Centauris (half
30 hors, half man), and he byrafte the dispoilynge
 fro the cruel lyoun (that is to seyn, he
 slouhe the lyoun and rafte hym his skyn); he
 smot the briddes that hyghten Arpiis with certein
 arwes; he ravysschide applis fro the wakynge
 dragoun, and his hand was the more hevy
 for the goldene metal; he drowh Cerberus, the
 hound of helle, by his treble cheyne; he, overcomer,
 as it is seyd, hath put an unmeke lord
 foddre to his crwel hors (this to seyn, that
40 Hercules slowh Diomedes, and made his
 hors to freten hym); and he, Hercules,
 slowh Idra the serpent, and brende the venym;
 and Acheleous the flod, defowled in his forheed,
 dreynte his schamefast visage in his
 strondes (that is to seyn, that Achaleous coude
 transfiguren hymself into diverse liknesse, and,
 as he faughte with Hercules, at the laste he
 torned hym into a bole, and Hercules brak of
 oon of his hornes, and he for schame hidde
50 hym in his ryver); and he, Hercules, caste
 adoun Antheus the geaunt in the [sondes]
 of Libye; and Kacus apaysede the wratthes of
 Evander (this to seyn, that Hercules slouh the
 monstre Kacus, and apaysed with that deth the
 wratthe of Evander); and the bristilede boor
 markide with scomes the scholdres of Hercules,
 the whiche scholdres the heye cercle of
 hevene sholde thriste; and the laste of his labours
 was that he susteynede the hevene
60 uppon his nekke unbowed; and he disservide
 eftsones the hevene to ben the pris
 of his laste travaile.
 "Goth now thanne, ye stronge men, ther as
 the heye wey of the greet ensaumple ledith
 yow. O nyce men! why nake ye your bakkes?
 (As who seith, "O ye slowe and delicat men!
 whi flee ye adversites, and ne fyghte nat ayeins
 hem by vertu, to wynnen the mede of the hevene?")
 For the erthe overcomen yeveth the
70 sterres." (This to seyn, that whan that
 erthly lust is overcomyn, a man is makid
 worthy to the hevene.)

---

Boece

Book 5

 Sche hadde seyd, and torned the cours of
 hir resoun to some othere thingis to ben treted
 and to ben ispedd. Thanne seide I, "Certes
 ryghtful is thin amonestynge and ful digne by
 auctorite. But that thou seydest whilom that
 the questioun of the devyne purveaunce is enlaced
 with many othere questiouns, I undirstande
 wel and prove it by the same thing.
 But I axe yif that thou wenest that hap be
10 anything in any weys; and yif thou wenest
 that hap be anything, what is it?"
 Thanne quod sche, "I haste me to yelden
 and assoilen to the the dette of my byheste, and
 to schewen and openen the the
 wey, by whiche wey thou maist comen ayein to thi contre. But
 al be it so that the thingis whiche that thou axest
 ben ryght profitable to knowe, yit ben thei
 divers somwhat fro the path of my purpos; and
 it is to douten that thou ne be makid weery
20 by mysweyes, so that thou ne maist nat
 suffise to mesuren the ryghte weie."
 "Ne doute the therof nothing," quod I; "for
 for to knowen thilke thingis togidre, in the
 whiche thinges I delite me gretly -- that schal
 ben to me in stede of reste, syn it nis nat to
 douten of the thingis folwynge, whan every syde
 of thi disputesoun schal han ben stedfast to me
 by undoutous feyth."
 "Thanne," seide sche, "that manere wol
30 I don the," and bygan to speken ryght thus:
 "Certes," quod sche, "yif any wyght
 diffynisse hap in this manere, that is to seyn that
 `hap is bytydynge ibrought forth by foolisshe
 moevynge and by no knyttynge of causes,' I
 conferme that hap nis ryght naught in no wise;
 and I deme al outrely that hap nis but an idel
 voys (as who seith, but an idel word), withouten
 any significacioun of thing summitted
 to that voys. For what place myght ben
40 left or duellynge to folie and to disordenaunce,
 syn that God ledeth and
 constreyneth alle thingis by ordre? For this
 sentence is verray and soth, that `no thing hath
 his beynge of naught,' to the whiche sentence
 noon of thise oolde folk ne withseide nevere; al
 be it so that they ne undirstoden ne meneden it
 nat by God, prince and bygynnere of wirkynge,
 but thei casten as a maner foundement of subject
 material (that is to seyn, of the nature of
50 alle resouns). And yif that any thing is
 woxen or comen of no causes, thanne schal
 it seme that thilke thing is comen or woxen of
 nawght; but yif this ne mai nat ben don, thanne
 is it nat possible that hap be any swich thing as
 I have diffynysschid a litil herebyforn."
 "How schal it thanne be?" quod I. "Nys ther
 thanne nothing that by right may ben clepid
 other hap or elles aventure of fortune; or is ther
 awght, al be it so that it is hidd fro the
60 peple, to whiche thing thise wordes ben
 covenable?"
 "Myn Aristotle," quod sche, "in the book of
 his Phisic diffynysseth this thing by schort
 resoun, and nyghe to the sothe."
 "In whiche manere?" quod I.
 "As ofte, quod sche, "as men don any thing
 for grace of any other thing, and another thing
 than thilke thing that men entenden to don
 bytideth by some causes, it is clepid hap.
70 Ryght as a man dalf the erthe bycause of
 tylyinge of the feld, and founde ther a
 gobet of gold bydolven; thanne wenen folk
 that it is byfalle by fortunous bytydynge. But
 forsothe it nis nat of naught, for it hath his
 propre causes, of whiche causes the cours unforseyn
 and unwar semeth to han makid hap.
 For yif the tiliere of the feeld ne dulve nat in the
 erthe, and yif the hidere of the gold ne hadde
 hyd the gold in thilke place, the gold ne
80 hadde nat ben founde. Thise ben thanne
 the causes of the abregginge of fortuit hap,
 the whiche abreggynge of fortuit hap cometh of
 causes encontrynge and flowynge togidere to
 hemself, and nat by the entencioun of the doere.
 For neither the hidere of the gold ne the delvere
 of the feeld ne undirstoden nat that the gold
 sholde han ben founde; but, as I seide, it bytidde
 and ran togidre that he dalf thare as that oothir
 had hid the gold. Now mai I thus diffinysshen
90 hap: hap is an unwar betydinge
 of causes assembled in thingis that ben
 doon for som oothir thing; but thilke ordre,
 procedinge by an uneschuable byndinge togidre,
 whiche that descendeth fro the welle of
 purveaunce that ordeyneth alle thingis in hir
 places and in hir tymes, makith that the causes
 rennen and assemblen togidre.
 "Tigrys and Eufrates resolven and springen
 of o welle in the cragges of the roche of the
 contre of Achemenye, ther as the fleinge bataile
 ficcheth hir dartes retorned in the breestis
 of hem that folwen hem. And sone aftir the
 same ryverys, Tigris and Eufrates, unjoignen
 and departen hir watres. And if thei comen togidre
 and ben assemblid and clepid togidre
 into o cours, thanne moten thilke thingis
10 fleten togidre whiche that the watir of
 the entrechaungynge flood bryngeth. The
 schippes and the stokkes araced with the flood
 moten assemblen; and the watris imedled
 wrappeth or emplieth many fortunel happes
 or maneris; the whiche wandrynge happes
 natheles thilke enclynynge lowenesse of the
 erthe and the flowinge ordre of the slydinge
 watir governeth. Right so fortune, that semeth
 as it fletith with slakid or ungoverned
20 bridles, it suffreth bridelis (that is to seyn,
 to ben governed), and passeth by thilke
 lawe (that is to seyn, by the devyne ordenaunce)."
 "This undirstonde I wel," quod I, "and I accorde
 me that it is ryght as thou seist. But I
 axe yif ther be any liberte of fre wille in this
 ordre of causes that clyven thus togidre in
 hemself, or elles I wolde witen yif that the
 destinal cheyne constrenith the moevynges of
 the corages of men."
 "Yis," quod sche, "ther is liberte of fre wil,
 ne ther ne was nevere no nature of resoun
10 that it ne hadde liberte of fre wil. For every
 thing that may naturely usen resoun,
 it hath doom by whiche it discernith and demeth
 every thing; thanne knoweth it by itself
 thinges that ben to fleen and thinges that ben
 to desiren. And thilke thing that any wight
 demeth to ben desired, that axeth or desireth
 he; and fleeth thilke thing that he troweth be
 to fleen. Wherfore in alle thingis that resoun
 is, in hem also is liberte of willynge and of
20 nillynge. But I ne ordeyne nat (as who
 seith, I ne graunte nat) that this liberte be
 evenelyk in alle thinges. Forwhy in the sovereynes
 devynes substaunces (that is to seyn,
 in spiritz) jugement is more cleer, and wil nat
 icorrumped, and myght redy to speden thinges
 that ben desired. But the soules of men moten
 nedes be more fre whan thei loken hem in the
 speculacioun or lokynge of the devyne thought;
 and lasse fre whan thei slyden into the bodyes;
30 and yit lasse fre whan thei ben gadrid
 togidre and comprehended in erthli
 membres; but the laste servage is whan that
 thei ben yeven to vices and han ifalle fro the
 possessioun of hir propre resoun. For aftir that
 thei han cast awey hir eyghen fro the lyght
 of the sovereyn sothfastnesse to lowe thingis
 and derke, anon thei derken by the cloude of
 ignoraunce and ben troubled by felonous talentz;
 to the whiche talentz whan thei approchen
40 and assenten, thei helpen and
 encrecen the servage whiche thei han
 joyned to hemself; and in this manere thei ben
 caytifs fro hir propre liberte. The whiche thingis
 natheles the lokynge of the devyne purveaunce
 seth, that alle thingis byholdeth and seeth fro
 eterne, and ordeyneth hem everiche in here
 merites as thei ben predestinat; and it is seid in
 Greke that `alle thinges he seeth and alle thinges
 he herith.'
 "Homer with the hony mouth (that is to seyn,
 Homer with the swete ditees) singeth that the
 sonne is cler by pure light; natheles yit ne
 mai it nat, by the infirme light of his bemes,
 breken or percen the inward entrayles of the
 erthe or elles of the see. So ne seth nat God,
 makere of the grete werld. To hym, that loketh
 alle thinges from an hey, ne withstondeth
 no thinges by hevynesse of erthe, ne the
10 nyght ne withstondeth nat to hym by the
 blake cloudes. Thilke God seeth in o strok
 of thought alle thinges that ben, or weren, or
 schollen comen; and thilke God, for he loketh
 and seeth alle thingis alone, thou maist seyn
 that he is the verrai sonne."
 Thanne seide I, "Now am I confowndide by
 a more hard doute than I was."
 "What doute is that?" quod sche, "for certes I
 conjecte now by whiche thingis thou art trubled."
 "It semeth," quod I, "to repugnen and to
 contrarien gretly, that God knoweth byforn alle
 thinges and that ther is any fredom of liberte.
 For yif so be that God loketh alle thinges
 byforn, ne God ne mai nat ben desceyved
10 in no manere, thanne moot it nedes ben that
 alle thinges betyden the whiche that the
 purveaunce of God hath seyn byforn to comen.
 For whiche, yif that God knoweth byforn nat
 oonly the werkes of men, but also hir conseilles
 and hir willes, thanne ne schal ther be no liberte
 of arbitrie; ne certes ther ne may be noon
 othir dede, ne no wil, but thilke whiche that the
 devyne purveaunce, that ne mai nat ben disseyved,
 hath felid byforn. For yif that thei
20 myghten writhen awey in othere manere
 than thei ben purveyed, thanne ne sholde
 ther be no stedefast prescience of thing to
 comen, but rather an uncerteyn opynioun; the
 whiche thing to trowen of God, I deme it felonye
 and unleveful.
 "Ne I ne proeve nat thilke same resoun (as who
 seith, I ne allowe nat, or I ne preyse nat, thilke
 same resoun) by whiche that som men wenen
 that thei mowe assoilen and unknytten the
30 knotte of this questioun. For certes thei
 seyn that thing nis nat to comen for that the
 purveaunce of God hath seyn byforn that it is to
 comen, but rathir the contrarie; and that is this:
 that, for that the thing is to comen, that therfore
 ne mai it nat ben hidd fro the purveaunce of
 God; and in this manere this necessite slideth
 ayein into the contrarie partie: ne it ne byhoveth
 nat nedes that thinges betiden that ben
 ipurveied, but it byhoveth nedes that thinges
40 that ben to comen ben ipurveied -- but as
 it were Y travailed (as who seith, that
 thilke answere procedith ryght as though men
 travaileden or weren besy) to enqueren the
 whiche thing is cause of the whiche thing, as
 whethir the prescience is cause of the necessite
 of thinges to comen, or elles that the necessite of
 thinges to comen is cause of the purveaunce. But
 I ne enforce me nat now to schewen it, that
 the bytidynge of thingis iwyst byforn is
50 necessarie, how so or in what manere that
 the ordre of causes hath itself; although
 that it ne seme naught that the prescience bringe
 in necessite of bytydinge to thinges to comen.
 "For certes yif that any wyght sitteth, it byhoveth
 by necessite that the opynioun be soth of
 hym that conjecteth that he sitteth. and
 ayeinward also is it of the contrarie: yif the
 opinioun be soth of any wyght for that he sitteth,
 it byhoveth by necessite that he sitte.
60 Thanne is here necessite in the toon and in
 the tothir; for in the toon is necessite of
 syttynge, and certes in the tothir is necessite of
 soth. But therfore ne sitteth nat a wyght for that
 the opynioun of the sittynge is soth, but the
 opinioun is rather soth for that a wyght sitteth
 byforn. And thus, althoughe that the cause of the
 soth cometh of that other side (as who seith,
 that althoughe the cause of soth cometh of the
 sittynge, and nat of the trewe opinioun),
70 algatis yit is ther comune necessite in that
 oon and in that othir. Thus scheweth it that
 Y may make semblable skiles of the purveaunce
 of God and of thingis to comen. For althoughe
 that for that thingis ben to comen therfore ben
 thei purveied, and nat certes for thei be purveied
 therfore ne bytide thei nat; yit natheles byhoveth
 it by necessite that eyther the thinges to comen
 ben ipurveied of God, or elles that the thinges
 that ben ipurveyed of God betyden. And
80 this thing oonly suffiseth inow to destroien
 the fredom of oure arbitre (that is to seyn,
 of our fre wil).
 "But certes now schewith it wel how fer fro
 the sothe and how up-so-doun is this thing that
 we seyn, that the betydynge of temporel thingis
 is cause of the eterne prescience. But for to
 wenen that God purveieth the thinges to comen
 for thei ben to comen -- what oothir thing is it
 but for to wene that thilke thinges that
90 bytidden whilom ben cause of thilke
 soverein purveaunce that is in God? And
 herto I adde yit this thing: that ryght as whanne
 that I woot that a thing is, it byhoveth by
 necessite that thilke selve thing be; and eek
 whan I have knowen that any thing schal
 betyden; so byhovith it by necessite that thilke
 same thing betide; so folweth it thanne that the
 betydynge of the thing iwyste byforn ne may nat
 ben eschued. And at the laste, yif that any
100 wyght wene a thing to ben oothir weyes
 than it is, it nis nat oonly unscience, but it
 is desceyvable opynioun ful divers and fer fro
 the sothe of science. Wherfore, yif any thing be
 so to comen that the betidynge of it ne be nat
 certein ne necessarie, who mai witen byforn that
 thilke thing is to comen? For ryght as science ne
 may nat ben medled with falsnesse (as who
 seith, that yif I woot a thing, it ne mai nat
 ben fals that I ne woot it), ryght so thilke
110 thing that is conceyved by science ne may
 nat ben noon other weies than as it is
 conceyved. For that is the cause why that science
 wanteth lesynge (as who seith, why that
 wytynge ne resceyveth nat lesynge of that it
 woot); for it byhoveth by necessite that every
 thing be ryght as science comprehendeth it
 to be.
 "What schal I thanne seyn? In whiche manere
 knoweth God byforn the thinges to comen,
120 yif thei ne ben nat certein? For yif that he
 deme that thei ben to comen uneschewably,
 and so may be that it is possible that thei
 ne schollen nat comen, God is disseyved. But
 not oonly to trowe that God is disseyved, but for
 to speke it with mouthe, it is a felonous synne.
 But yif that God woot that ryght so as thinges
 ben to comen, so schollen they comen, so that he
 wite egaly (as who seith, indifferently) that
 thingis mowen ben doon or elles nat
130 idoon, what is thilke prescience that ne
 comprehendeth no certein thing ne stable?
 Or elles what difference is ther bytwixe the
 prescience and thilke japeworthi devynynge of
 Tyresie the divynour, that seide, `Al that I seie,'
 quod he, `either it schal be or elles it ne schal nat
 be?' Or elles how mochel is worth the devyne
 prescience more than the opinioun of mankynde,
 yif so be that it demeth the thinges
 uncertayn, as men doon, of the whiche
140 domes of men the betydinge nis nat
 certein? But yif so be that noon uncertein
 thing ne mai ben in hym that is right certeyn
 welle of alle thingis, than is the betydinge
 certein of thilke thingis whiche he hath wist
 byforn fermely to comen. For whiche it folweth
 that the fredom of the conseiles and of the
 werkis of mankynde nis noon, syn that the
 thought of God, that seeth alle thinges withouten
 errour of falsnesse, byndeth and
150 constreyneth hem to o bytidynge by
 necessite.
 "And yif this thing be oonys igrauntid and
 resceyved (that is to seyn, that ther nis no fre
 wil), thanne scheweth it wel how gret destruccioun
 and how gret damages ther folwen of
 thingis of mankynde. For in idel ben ther thanne
 purposed and byhyght medes to good folk, and
 peynes to badde folk, syn that no moevynge of
 fre corage and voluntarie ne hath nat
160 disservid hem (that is to seyn, neither
 mede ne peyne). And it scholde seme
 thanne that thilke thing is alther-worst whiche
 that is now demed for alther-moost just
 and moost ryghtful, that is to seyn that schrewes ben
 punysschid or elles that good folk ben
 igerdoned, the whiche folk syn that hir propre
 wil ne sent hem nat to the toon ne to that othir
 (that is to seyn, neither to good ne to harm), but
 constreyneth hem certein necessite of
170 thingis to comen. Thanne ne schulle ther
 nevere be, ne nevere were, vice ne vertu,
 but it scholde rather ben confusion of alle
 dissertes medlid withouten discrecioun. And yit
 ther folweth anothir inconvenient, of the whiche
 ther ne mai be thought no more felonous ne
 more wikke, and that is this: that, so as the ordre
 of thingis is iled and cometh of the purveaunce
 of God, ne that nothing is leveful to the
 conseiles of mankynde (as who seith that
180 men han no power to don nothing ne wilne
 nothing), thanne folweth it that oure vices
 ben referrid to the makere of alle good
 (as who seith, thanne folweth it that God
 oughte han the blame of our vices), syn he
 constreyneth us by necessite to doon vices.
 "Than nis ther no resoun to han hope in God,
 ne for to preien to God. For what scholde any
 wyght hopen to God, or why scholde he preien
 to God, syn that the ordenance of destyne
190 whiche that mai nat ben enclyned knytteth
 and streyneth alle thingis that men mai
 desiren? Thanne scholde ther be don awey
 thilke oonly alliaunce bytwixen God and men
 (that is to seyn, to hopen and to preien). But
 by the pris of ryghtwisnesse and of verray
 mekenesse we disserven the gerdon of the
 devyne grace whiche that is inestimable (that is
 to seyn, that it is so greet that it ne mai nat ben
 ful ipreysed). And this is oonly the manere
200 (that is to seyn, hope and preieris) for
 whiche it semeth that men mowen spekyn
 with God, and by resoun of supplicacion be
 conjoyned to thilke cleernesse that nis nat
 aprochid no rather or that men byseken it and
 impetren it. And yif men ne wene nat that hope
 ne preieris ne han no strengthis by the necessite
 of thingis to comen iresceyved, what thing
 is ther thanne by whiche we mowen ben
 conjoyned and clyven to thilke sovereyne
210 prince of thingis? For whiche it byhoveth
 by necessite that the lynage of mankynde,
 as thou songe a litil herebyforn, be departed and
 unjoyned from his welle, and failen of his
 bygynnynge (that is to seyn, God).
 "What discordable cause hath torent and unjoyned
 the byndynge or the alliaunce of thingis
 (that is to seyn, the conjunccions of God and
 of man)? Whiche god hath establisschid so
 gret bataile bytwixen these two sothfast or
 verreie thinges (that is to seyn, bytwyxen the
 purveaunce of God and fre wil) that thei ben
 singuler and dyvided, ne that they ne wole
 nat ben medled ne couplid togidre? But
10 ther nis no discord to the verray thinges,
 but thei clyven alwey certein to hemself;
 but the thought of man, confownded and over-throwen
 by the derke membres of the body,
 ne mai nat be fyr of his derked lookynge (that
 is to seyn, by the vigour of his insyghte while
 the soule is in the body) knowen the thynne
 sutile knyttynges of thinges. But wherfore
 eschaufeth it so by so gret love to fynden
 thilke notes of soth icovered? (That is to
20 seyn, wherfore eschaufeth the thought of
 man by so gret desir to knowen thilke notificaciouns
 that ben ihid undir the covertures of
 soth?) Woot it aught thilke thing that it angwisshous
 desireth to knowe? (As who seith,
 nay; for no man ne travaileth for to witen
 thingis that he wot. And therfore the texte
 seith thus:) But who travaileth to wite thingis
 iknowe? And yif that he ne knoweth hem nat,
 what sekith thilke blynde thoght? What is
30 he that desireth any thyng of which he wot
 right naught? (As who seith, whoso desireth
 any thing, nedes somwhat he knoweth of it,
 or elles he ne coude nat desiren it.) Or who may
 folwen thinges that ne ben nat iwist? And
 thoughe that he seke tho thingis, wher schal
 he fynde hem? What wyght that is al unkunnynge
 and ignoraunt may knowe the forme
 that is ifounde? But whanne the soule byholdeth
 and seeth the heye thought (that is to
40 seyn, God), thanne knoweth it togidre the
 somme and the singularites (that is to seyn,
 the principles and everyche by hymself)? But
 now, while the soule is hidd in the cloude and
 in the derknesse of the membres of the body,
 it ne hath nat al foryeten itself, but it withholdeth
 the somme of thinges and lesith the
 singularites. Thanne who so that sekith sothnesse,
 he nis in neyther nother habite, for he
 not nat al, ne he ne hath nat al foryeten;
50 but yit hym remembreth the somme of
 thinges that he withholdeth, and axeth conseile,
 and retretith deepliche thinges iseyn byforne
 (that is to seyn, the grete somme in his
 mynde) so that he mowe adden the parties
 that he hath foryeten to thilke that he hath
 withholden."
 Than seide sche, "This is," quod sche, "the
 olde questioun of the purveaunce of God. And
 Marcus Tullius, whan he devyded the divynaciouns
 (that is to seyn, in his book that he wrot
 of dyvynaciouns), he moevede gretly this questioun;
 and thou thiself hast ysought it mochel
 and outrely and longe. But yit ne hath it nat
 ben determined ne isped fermely and diligently
 of any of yow. And the cause of this dirknesse
10 and of this difficulte is, for that the
 moevynge of the resoun of mankynde ne
 may nat moeven to (that is to seyn, applien
 or joignen to) the simplicite of the devyne prescience;
 the whiche symplicite of the devyne
 prescience, yif that men myghte thinken it
 in any manere (that is to seyn, that yif
 men myghten thinken and comprehenden the
 thinges as God seeth hem), thanne ne scholde
 ther duelle outrely no doute. The whiche
20 resoun and cause of difficulte I schal assaye
 at the laste to schewe and to speden, whan
 I have first ispendid and answerd to the resouns
 by whiche thou art ymoeved.
 "For I axe whi thou wenest that thilke resoun
 of hem that assoilen this questioun ne be
 nat speedful inow ne sufficient; the whiche solucioun,
 or the whiche resoun, for that it demeth
 that the prescience nis nat cause of necessite
 to thinges to comen, than ne weneth it
30 nat that fredom of wil be distorbed or
 ylet be prescience. For ne drawestow nat
 argumentz fro elleswhere of the necessite of
 thingis to comen (as who seith, any oothir wey
 than thus) but that thilke thinges that the
 prescience woot byforn ne mowen nat unbetyde
 (that is to seyn, that thei moten betide)?
 But thanne, yif that prescience ne putteth
 no necessite to thingis to comen, as thou thiself
 hast confessed it and byknowen a litel
40 herebyforn, what cause or what is it (as
 who seith, ther may no cause be) by
 whiche that the endes voluntarie of thinges
 myghten be constreyned to certein bytydynge?
 For by grace of posicioun, so that thou mowe the
 betere undirstonde this that folweth, I pose that
 ther ne be no prescience. Thanne axe I," quod
 sche, "in as moche as aperteneth to that,
 scholden thanne thingis that comen of fre wil
 ben constreyned to bytiden by necessite?"
50 Boecius. "Nay," quod I.
 "Thanne ayeinward," quod sche, "I
 suppose that ther be prescience, but that it ne
 putteth no necessite to thingis; thanne trowe I
 that thilke selve fredom of wil schal duellen al
 hool and absolut and unbounden. But thou wolt
 seyn that, al be it so that prescience nis nat cause
 of the necessite of bytydynge to thingis to
 comen, algatis yit it is a signe that the thingis ben
 to bytyden by necessite. By this manere
60 thanne, althoughe the prescience ne hadde
 nevere iben, yit algate, or at the leste wey,
 it is certein thing that the endes and bytydinges
 of thingis to comen scholden ben necessarie. For
 every signe scheweth and signifieth oonly what
 the thing is, but it ne makith nat the thing that
 it signifieth. For whiche it byhoveth first to
 schewen that nothing ne bytideth that it ne
 betideth by necessite, so that it mai apiere that
 the prescience is signe of this necessite; or
70 elles, yif ther nere no necessite, certes
 thilke prescience ne myghte nat ben signe
 of thing that nis nat. But certes, it is now certein
 that the proeve of this, isusteyned by stedfast
 resoun, ne schal nat ben lad ne proeved by
 signes, ne by argumentz itaken fro withoute, but
 by causes covenable and necessarie.
 "But thou mayst seyn, `How may it be that the
 thingis ne betyden nat that ben ipurveied to
 comen? But certes, ryght as we troweden
80 that tho thingis whiche that the purveaunce
 woot byforn to comen, ne ben nat to
 bytiden!' But that ne scholde we nat demen; but
 rathir, althoughe that thei schal betyden, yit ne
 have thei no necessite of hir kynde to betyden.
 And this maystow lyghtly aperceyven by this
 that I schal seyn. For we seen many thingis whan
 thei ben done byforn oure eyen, ryght as men
 seen the cartere worken in the tornynge and in
 atemprynge or adressynge of hise cartes or
90 chariottes, and by this manere (as who
 seith, maistow undirstonden) of alle othere
 werkmen. Is ther thanne any necessite (as who
 seith, in our lookynge) that constreynith or
 compelleth any of thilke thingis to ben don so?"
 Boece. "Nay," quod I, "for in idel and in veyn
 were al the effect of craft, yif that alle thingis
 weren moeved by constreynynge (that is to seyn,
 by constreinynge of our eyen or of our sighte)."
 Philosophie. "The thingis thanne," quod
100 she, "that, whan men doon hem, ne han no
 necessite that men doon hem, eek tho same
 thingis, first or thei ben don, thei ben to comen
 withoute necessite. Forwhy ther ben some
 thingis to betyden, of whiche the eendes and the
 bytydynges of hem ben absolut and quit of alle
 necessite. For certes I ne trowe nat that any man
 wolde seyn this: that tho thingis that men don
 now, that thei ne weren to bytiden first or thei
 weren idoon; and thilke same thinges,
110 althoughe that men hadden iwyst hem
 byforn, yit thei han fre bytydynges. For
 ryght as science of thingis present ne bryngith in
 no necessite to thingis that men doon, right so
 the prescience of thinges to comen ne bryngith
 in no necessite to thinges to bytiden.
 "But thou maist seyn that of thilke same it is
 idouted, as whethir that of thilke thingis that ne
 han noon issues and bytidynges necessaries, yif
 therof mai ben any prescience. For certes
120 thei semen to discorden, for thou wenest
 that yif that thingis ben iseyn byfore, that
 necessite folwith hem; and yif necessite faileth
 hem, thei ne myghten nat ben wist byforn; and
 that nothing may be comprehended by science
 but certein. And yif tho thinges that ne han no
 certein bytydingis ben ipurveied as certein, it
 scholde ben dirknesse of opinioun, nat sothfastnesse
 of science. And thou wenest that it be
 dyvers fro the holnesse of science that any
130 man scholde deme a thing to ben otherwyse
 than it is itself.
 "And the cause of this errour is that of alle the
 thingis that every wyght hath iknowe,
 thei wenen that tho thingis ben iknowe al only by the
 strengthe and by the nature of the thinges that
 ben iwyst or iknowe. And it is al the contrarye;
 for al that evere is iknowe, it is rather
 comprehendid and knowen, nat aftir his
 strengthe and his nature, but aftir the
140 faculte (that is to seyn, the power and the
 nature) of hem that knowen. And, for
 that this schal mowen schewen by a schort
 ensaumple, the same rowndnesse of a body,
 otherweys the sighte of the eighe knoweth it,
 and otherweys the touchynge. The lookynge, by
 castynge of his bemys, waiteth and seeth fro afer
 al the body togidre, withoute moevynge of
 itself; but the touchynge clyveth and conjoyneth
 to the rounde body, and moeveth aboute
150 the envyrounynge, and comprehendeth by
 parties the roundnesse. And the man
 hymself, ootherweys wit byholdeth hym, and
 ootherweys ymaginacioun, and otherweyes
 resoun, and ootherweies intelligence. For the
 wit comprehendith withoute-forth the figure of
 the body of the man that is establisschid in the
 matere subgett; but the ymaginacioun comprehendith
 oonly the figure withoute the
 matere; resoun surmountith ymaginacioun
160 and comprehendith by an universel lokynge
 the comune spece that is in the
 singuler peces. But the eighe of intelligence is
 heyere, for it surmountith the envyrounynge of
 the universite, and loketh over that bi pure
 subtilte of thought thilke same symple forme of
 man that is perdurablely in the devyne thought.
 In whiche this oughte gretly to ben considered,
 that the heyeste strengthe to comprehenden
 thinges enbraseth and contienith the
170 lowere strengthe; but the lower strengthe
 ne ariseth nat in no manere to the heyere
 strengthe. For wit ne mai no thing comprehende
 out of matere ne the ymaginacioun ne loketh nat
 the universel speces, ne resoun ne taketh nat the
 symple forme so as intelligence takith it; but
 intelligence, that lookith as aboven, whanne it
 hath comprehended the forme, it knowith and
 demyth alle the thinges that ben undir that
 foorme; but sche knoweth hem in thilke
180 manere in the whiche it comprehendith
 thilke same symple forme that ne may
 nevere ben knowen to noon of that othere (that
 is to seyn, to none of tho thre forseyde strengthis
 of the soule). For it knoweth the universite of
 resoun, and the figure of ymaginacioun, and the
 sensible material conceyved by wit; ne it ne
 useth nat nor of resoun ne of ymaginacioun ne
 of wit withoute-forth; but it byholdeth alle
 thingis, so as I schal seie, by o strook of
190 thought formely (withoute discours or
 collacioun). Certes resoun, whan it lokith
 any thing universel, it ne useth nat of
 ymaginacioun, nor of wit; and algatis yit it
 comprehendith the thingis ymaginable and
 sensible. For reson is she that diffynyscheth the
 universel of here conceyte ryght thus: man is a
 resonable two-foted beest. And how so that this
 knowynge is universel, yit nis ther no wyght that
 ne wot wel that a man is a thing ymaginable
200 and sensible; and this same considereth wel
 resoun; but that nis nat by ymaginacioun
 nor by wit, but it lookith it by resonable
 concepcioun. Also ymaginacioun, albeit so that
 it takith of wit the bygynnynges to seen and to
 formen the figures, algates althoughe that wit ne
 were nat present, yit it envyrowneth and
 comprehendith alle thingis sensible, nat by
 resoun sensible of demynge, but by resoun
 ymaginatyf. Seestow nat thanne that alle
210 the thingis in knowynge usen more of hir
 faculte or of hir power than thei don of the
 faculte or power of thingis that ben iknowe? Ne
 that nis nat wrong; for so as every jugement is
 the dede or the doyng of hym that demeth, it
 byhoveth that every wyght performe the werk
 and his entencioun, nat of foreyne power, but of
 his propre power.
 "The porche (that is to seyn, a gate of the
 toun of Athenis there as philosophris hadden
 hir congregacioun to desputen) -- thilke porche
 broughte somtyme olde men, ful dirke in hir
 sentences (that is to seyn, philosophris that
 hyghten Stoycienis), that wenden that ymages
 and sensibilities (that is to seyn, sensible ymaginaciouns
 or ellis ymaginaciouns of sensible
 thingis) weren enprientid into soules fro
10 bodyes withoute-forth (as who seith that
 thilke Stoycienis wenden that the sowle
 had ben nakid of itself, as a mirour or a clene
 parchemyn, so that alle figures most first
 comen fro thinges fro withoute into soules,
 and ben emprientid into soules); (Textus)
 ryght as we ben wont somtyme by a swift
 poyntel to fycchen lettres emprientid in the
 smothnesse or in the pleynesse of the table of
 wex or in parchemyn that ne hath no figure
20 ne note in it. (Glose. But now argueth
 Boece ayens that opynioun and seith
 thus:) But yif the thryvynge soule ne unpliteth
 nothing (that is to seyn, ne doth nothing) by his
 propre moevynges, but suffrith and lith subgit
 to the figures and to the notes of bodies
 withoute-forth, and yeldith ymages ydel and
 vein in the manere of a mirour, whennes
 thryveth thanne or whennes comith thilke
 knowynge in our soule, that discernith and
30 byholdith alle thinges? And whennes is
 thilke strengthe that byholdeth the singuler
 thinges? Or whennes is the strengthe that
 devydeth thinges iknowe; and thilke strengthe
 that gadreth togidre the thingis devyded; and
 the strengthe that chesith his entrechaunged
 wey? For somtyme it hevyth up the heved (that
 is to seyn, that it hevyth up the entencioun) to
 ryght heye thinges, and somtyme it descendith
 into ryght lowe thinges; and whan
40 it retorneth into hymself it reproveth and
 destroyeth the false thingis by the trewe
 thinges. Certes this strengthe is cause more
 efficient, and mochel more myghty to seen and
 to knowe thinges, than thilke cause that suffrith
 and resceyveth the notes and the figures
 empressid in manere of matere. Algatis the
 passion (that is to seyn, the suffraunce or the wit)
 in the quyke body goth byforn, excitynge and
 moevynge the strengthes of the thought,
50 ryght so as whan that cleernesse smyteth
 the eyen and moeveth hem to seen, or
 ryght so as voys or soun hurteleth to the eres
 and commoeveth hem to herkne; than is the
 strengthe of the thought imoevid and excited,
 and clepith forth to semblable moevyngis the
 speces that it halt withynne itself, and addith
 tho speces to the notes and to the thinges
 withoute-forth, and medleth the ymagis of
 thinges withoute-forth to the foormes ihidd
60 withynne hymself.
 "But what yif that in bodyes to ben feled
 (that is to seyn, in the takynge of knowlechynge
 of bodily thinges), and albeit so that the
 qualites of bodies that ben object fro withoute-forth
 moeven and entalenten the instrumentz
 of the wittes, and albeit so that the passioun
 of the body (that is to seyn, the wit or the suffraunce)
 goth toforn the strengthe of the wirkynge
 corage, the whiche passioun or
10 sufraunce clepith forth the dede of the
 thought in hymself and moeveth and exciteth
 in this menewhile the formes that resten
 within-forth, and yif that in sensible bodies,
 as I have seid, our corage nis nat ytaught or
 empriented by passioun to knowe thise thinges,
 but demeth and knoweth of his owne strengthe
 the passioun or suffrance subject to the body --
 moche more than tho thingis that ben absolut
 and quit fro alle talentz or affecciouns of
20 bodyes (as God or his aungelis) ne folwen
 nat in discernynge thinges object fro withoute-forth,
 but thei acomplissen and speden
 the dede of hir thought. By this resoun,
 thanne, ther comen many maner knowynges to
 dyverse and differynge substaunces. For the
 wit of the body, the whiche wit is naked and
 despoiled of alle oothre knowynges -- thilke
 wit cometh to beestis that ne mowen nat
 moeven hemself her and ther, as oistres
30 and muscles and oothir swich schellefyssche
 of the see that clyven and ben norisschid
 to roches. But the ymaginacioun cometh
 to remuable bestis, that semen to han talent to
 fleen or to desiren any thing. But resoun is al
 oonly to the lynage of mankynde, ryght as
 intelligence is oonly the devyne nature. Of
 whiche it folweth that thilke knowynge is more
 worth than thise oothre, syn it knoweth by his
 propre nature nat oonly his subget (as who
40 seith, it ne knoweth nat al oonly that apertenith
 properly to his knowinge) but it knoweth
 the subjectz of alle othre knowynges.
 "But how schal it thanne be, yif that wit and
 ymaginacioun stryven ayein resonynge and seyn
 that, of thilke universel thingis that resoun
 weneth to seen, that it nis ryght naught? For wit
 and ymaginacioun seyn that that that is sensible
 or ymaginable, it ne mai nat ben universel;
 thanne is either the jugement of resoun
50 soth, ne that ther nis no thing sensible; or
 elles, for that resoun woot wel that many
 thinges ben subject to wit and to ymaginacioun,
 thanne is the concepcioun of resoun veyn and
 fals, whiche that lokith and comprehendith that
 that is sensible and singuler as universel. And yif
 that resoun wolde answere ayein to thise two
 (that is to seyn, to wit and to ymaginacioun),
 and seyn that sothly sche hirselve (that is to
 seyn, resoun) lokith and comprehendith,
60 by resoun of universalite, bothe that that is
 sensible and that that is ymaginable;
 and that thilke two (that is to seyn, wit and
 ymaginacioun) ne mowen nat strecchen ne
 enhaunsen hemself to knowynge of universalite,
 for that the knowynge of hem ne mai exceden ne
 surmounten the bodily figures: certes of the
 knowynge of thinges, men oughten rather yeven
 credence to the more stidfast and to the mor
 parfit jugement; in this manere stryvynge,
70 thanne, we that han strengthe of resonynge
 and of ymagynynge and of wit (that is to
 seyn, by resoun and by imagynacioun and by
 wit), we scholde rathir preise the cause of resoun
 (as who seith, than the cause of wit and of
 ymaginacioun).
 "Semblable thing is it, that the resoun of
 mankynde ne weneth nat that the devyne
 intelligence byholdeth or knoweth thingis to
 comen, but ryght as the resoun of
80 mankynde knoweth hem. For thou arguist
 and seist thus: that if it ne seme nat to men
 that some thingis han certeyn and necessarie
 bytydynges, thei ne mowen nat ben wist byforn
 certeinly to betyden, and thanne nis ther no
 prescience of thilke thinges; and yif we trowe
 that prescience be in thise thingis, thanne is ther
 nothing that it ne bytydeth by necessite. But
 certes yif we myghten han the jugement of
 the devyne thoght, as we ben parsoners of
90 resoun, ryght so as we han demyd that it
 byhovith that ymaginacioun and wit ben
 bynethe resoun, ryght so wolde we demen that
 it were ryghtfull thing that mannys resoun
 oughte to summytten itself and to ben bynethe
 the devyne thought. For whiche yif that we
 mowen (as who seith that, if that we mowen,
 I conseile that) we enhaunse us into the heighte
 of thilke soverein intelligence; for ther schal
 resoun wel seen that that it ne mai nat
100 byholden in itself, and certes that is this:
 in what manere the prescience of God
 seeth alle thinges certeins and diffinyssched,
 althoughe thei ne han no certein issues or
 bytydyngis; ne this nis noon opinioun, but it is
 rather the simplicite of the soverein science,
 that nis nat enclosed nor ischet withinne none
 boundes.
 "The beestes passen by the erthes be ful
 diverse figures. For some of hem han hir bodyes
 straught, and crepyn in the dust, and drawen
 aftir hem a traas or a furwe icontynued (that
 is to sein, as naddres or snakes); and oothre
 beestis by the wandrynge lyghtnesse of hir
 wynges beten the wyndes, and overswymmen
 the spaces of the longe eir by moyst fleynge;
 and oothere beestes gladen hemself to diggen
10 hir traas or hir steppys in the erthe
 with hir goinges or with hir feet, and to
 gon either by the grene feeldes or elles to
 walken undir the wodes. And al be it so that
 thou seest that thei alle discorden by diverse
 foormes, algatis hir faces enclyned hevyeth hir
 dulle wittes. Only the lynage of man heveth
 heyest his heie heved, and stondith light with
 his upryght body, and byholdeth the erthes
 undir hym. And, but yif thou, erthly man,
20 waxest yvel out of thi wit, this figure
 amonesteth the, that axest the hevene with
 thi ryghte visage and hast areised thi forheved,
 to beren up an hye thi corage, so that thi thought
 ne be nat ihevyed ne put lowe undir fote, syn
 that thi body is so heyghe areysed.
 "Therfore thanne, as I have schewed a litel
 herebyforne that alle thing that is iwist nis nat
 knowen by his nature propre, but by the nature
 of hem that comprehenden it, lat us loke
 now, in as mochil as it is leveful to us (as who
 seith, lat us loke now as we mowen) whiche that
 the estat is of the devyne substaunce; so that
 we mowe eek knowen what his science is. The
 comune jugement of alle creatures resonables
10 thanne is this: that God is eterne.
 Lat us considere thanne what is eternite;
 for certes that schal schewen us togidre the
 devyne nature and the devyne science. Eternite,
 thanne, is parfit possessioun and al togidre
 of lif interminable; and that scheweth. more
 cleerly by the comparysoun or collacioun of
 temporel thinges. For alle thing that lyveth in
 tyme, it is present and procedith fro preteritz
 into futures (that is to seyn, fro tyme passed
20 into tyme comynge), ne ther nis nothing
 establisshed in tyme that mai enbrasen togidre
 al the space of his lif. For certis yit ne
 hath it nat taken the tyme of tomorwe, and it
 hath lost that of yusterday, and certes in the
 lif of this dai ye ne lyve namore but right
 as in this moevable and transitorie moment.
 Thanne thilke thing that suffreth temporel condicioun,
 althoughe that it nevere bygan to
 be, ne thoughe it nevere ne cese for to be,
30 as Aristotile deemed of the world, and
 althoughe that the lif of it be strecchid with
 infinite of tyme; yit algatis nis it no swich thing
 that men mighten trowen by ryght that it is
 eterne. For althouhe that it comprehende and
 embrase the space of lif infinit, yit algatis ne
 enbraseth it nat the space of the lif al togidre; for
 it ne hath nat the futuris (that ne ben nat yit),
 ne it ne hath no lengere the preteritz (that
 ben idoon or ipassed). But thilke thing,
40 thanne, that hath and comprehendith
 togidre al the plente of the lif interminable,
 to whom ther ne faileth naught of the future, and
 to whom ther nis noght of the preteryt escaped
 nor ipassed, thilke same is iwitnessed and
 iproevid by right to ben eterne; and it byhovith
 by necessite that thilke thing be alwey present to
 hymself and compotent (as who seith, alwey
 present to hymselve and so myghty that al be
 right at his plesaunce), and that he have al
50 present the infinit of the moevable tyme.
 "Wherfore som men trowen wrongfully
 that, whan thei heren that it semede to Plato that
 this world ne hadde nevere bygynnynge of
 tyme, ne that it nevere schal han failynge, thei
 wenen in this manere that this world be makid
 coeterne with his makere. (As who seith, thei
 wene that this world and God ben makid
 togidre eterne, and that is a wrongful wenynge.)
 For other thing is it to ben ilad
60 by lif interminable, as Plato grauntide to
 the world, and oothir is it to enbrace
 togidre al the presence of the lif intermynable,
 the whiche thing it is cleer and manyfest that it
 is propre to the devyne thought. Ne it ne
 scholde nat semen to us that God is eldere than
 thinges that ben imaked by quantite of tyme, but
 rathir by the proprete of his simple nature. For
 this ilke infinit moevyng of temporel thinges
 folweth this presentarie estat of the lif
70 inmoevable; and, so as it ne mai nat
 contrefetin it ne feynen it, ne be evene lik
 to it, [fro] the immoevablete (that is to sein, that
 is in the eternite of God) it faileth and fallith into
 moevynge, [and] fro the simplicite of the
 presence of [God] disencresith into the infinit
 quantite of future and of preterit; and so as it ne
 mai nat han togidre al the plente of the lif,
 algates yit, for as moche as it ne ceseth nevere for
 to ben in som manere, it semyth somdel to
80 us that it folwith and resembleth thilke
 thing that it ne mai nat atayne to ne
 fulfillen, and byndeth itself to som maner
 presence of this litle and swift moment, the
 whiche presence of this litle and swifte moment,
 for that it bereth a maner ymage or liknesse of
 the ai duellynge presence of God, it grauntith to
 swich manere thinges as it betydith to that it
 semeth hem that thise thinges han iben and ben.
 And for that the presence of swiche litil
90 moment ne mai nat duelle, therfore it
 ravysschide and took the infynit wey of
 tyme (that is to seyn, by successioun). And by
 this manere is it idoon for that it sholde contynue
 the lif in goinge, of the whiche lif it ne myght nat
 enbrace the plente in duellinge. And forthi yif
 we wollen putten worthi names to thinges and
 folwen Plato, lat us seyen thanne sothly that God
 is `eterne,' and that the world is `perpetuel.'
 "Thanne, syn that every jugement knoweth
100 and comprehendith by his owne nature
 thinges that ben subgect unto hym,
 ther is sothly to God alweys an eterne
 and presentarie estat; and the science of hym, that
 overpasseth alle temporel moevement, duelleth
 in the simplicite of his presence, and embraceth
 and considereth alle the infynit spaces of tymes
 preteritz and futures, and lokith in his simple
 knowynge alle thinges of preterit ryght as thei
 weren idoon presently ryght now. Yif
110 thou wolt thanne thinken and avise the
 prescience by whiche it knoweth alle
 thinges, thou ne schalt naught demen it as
 prescience of thinges to comen, but thou schalt
 demen more ryghtfully that it is science of
 presence or of instaunce that nevere ne faileth.
 For whiche it nis nat ycleped `previdence,' but it
 sholde rathir ben clepid `purveaunce,' that is
 establisshed ful fer fro ryght lowe thinges, and
 byholdeth fro afer alle thingis, right as it
120 were fro the heye heighte of thinges.
 "Why axestow thanne, or whi desputestow
 thanne, that thilke thingis ben doon
 by necessite whiche that ben yseyn and knowen
 by the devyne sighte, syn that forsothe men ne
 maken nat thilke thinges necessarie whiche that
 thei seen ben idoon in hir sighte? For addith thi
 byholdynge any necessite to thilke thinges that
 thou byholdest present?"
 "Nay," quod I.
130 Philosophie. "Certes, thanne, yif men
 myghte maken any digne comparysoun or
 collacioun of the presence devyne and of the
 presence of mankynde, ryght so as ye seen some
 thinges in this temporel present, ryght so seeth
 God alle thinges by his eterne present.
 "Wherfore this devyne prescience ne chaungeth
 nat the nature ne the proprete of thinges,
 but byholdeth swiche thingis present to hym-ward
 as thei shollen betyde to yow-ward
140 in tyme to comen. Ne it ne confowndeth
 nat the jugementz of thingis; but by o
 sight of his thought he knoweth the thinges
 to comen, as wel necessarie as nat necessarie.
 Ryght so as whan ye seen togidre a man walke
 on the erthe and the sonne arisen in the
 hevene, albeit so that ye seen and byholden the
 ton and the tothir togidre, yit natheles ye demen
 and discerne that the toon is voluntarie
 and the tothir is necessarie. Ryght so
150 thanne the devyne lookynge, byholdynge
 alle thinges undir hym, ne trowbleth nat
 the qualite of thinges that ben certeinly present
 to hym-ward but, as to the condicioun of tyme,
 forsothe thei ben futur. For which it folwith that
 this nis noon opynioun, but rathir a stidfast
 knowynge istrengthid by soothnesse that, whan
 that God knoweth any thing to be, he ne unwot
 not that thilke thing wantith necessite to be.
 (This is to sein that whan that God knoweth
160 any thing to betide, he wot wel that it ne
 hath no necessite to betyde.)
 "And yif thou seist here that thilke thing that
 God seeth to betide, it ne may nat unbytide (as
 who seith, it moot bytide), and thilke thing that
 ne mai nat unbytide, it mot bytiden by necessite,
 and that thou streyne me to this name of
 necessite, certes I wol wel confessen and
 byknowen a thing of ful sad trouthe. But
 unnethe schal ther any wight mowe seen it
170 or come therto, but yif that he be
 byholdere of the devyne thought. For I wol
 answeren the thus: that thilke thing that is futur,
 whan it is referred to the devyne knowynge,
 than is it necessarie; but certis whan it is
 undirstonden in his owene kynde, men seen it
 outrely fre and absolut fro alle necessite.
 "For certes ther ben two maneris of
 necessites: that oon necessite is symple, as thus:
 that it byhovith by necessite that alle men
180 ben mortal or dedly; anothir necessite is
 condicionel, as thus: yif thow wost that a
 man walketh, it byhovith by necessite that he
 walke. Thilke thing, thanne, that any wight hath
 iknowe to be, it ne mai ben noon oothir weys
 thanne he knowith it to be. But this condicion ne
 draweth nat with hir thilke necessite simple; for
 certes this necessite condicionel -- the propre
 nature of it ne makith it nat, but the adjeccioun
 of the condicioun makith it. For no necessite
190 ne constreyneth a man to gon that
 goth by his propre wil, al be it so that whan
 he goth that it is necessarie that he goth. Ryght
 on this same manere thanne, yf that the
 purveaunce of God seeth any thyng present,
 than moot thilke thing ben by necessite,
 althoghe that it ne have no necessite of his owne
 nature. But certes the futures that bytiden by
 fredom of arbitrie, God seth hem alle togidre
 presentz. Thise thinges thanne, yif thei ben
200 referrid to the devyne sighte, than ben they
 maked necessarie by the condicioun of the
 devyne knowynge. But certes yif thilke thingis
 ben considered by hemself, thei ben absolut of
 necessite, and ne forleten nat ne cesen nat of
 the liberte of hir owne nature. Thanne certes
 withoute doute alle the thinges shollen ben
 doon whiche that God woot byforn that thei ben
 to comen. But some of hem comen and bytiden
 of fre arbitrie or of fre wil, that, al be it so
210 that thei bytiden, yit algates ne lese thei nat
 hir propre nature in beinge, by the whiche,
 first or that thei weren idon, thei hadden power
 noght to han bytyd."
 Boece. "What is this to seyn thanne," quod I,
 "that thinges ne ben nat necessarie by hir propre
 nature, so as thei comen in alle maneris in the
 liknesse of necessite by the condicioun of the
 devyne science?"
 Philosophie. "This is the difference,"
220 quod sche, "that tho thinges that I purposide
 the a litil herbyforn -- that is to seyn,
 the sonne arysynge and the man walkynge --
 that ther-whiles that thilke thinges ben idoon,
 they ne myghte nat ben undoon; natheles that
 oon of hem, or it was idoon, it byhovide by
 necessite that it was idoon, but nat that oothir.
 Ryght so is it here, that the thinges that God
 hath present, withoute doute thei shollen ben.
 But some of hem descendith of the nature
230 of thinges (as the sonne arysynge); and
 some descendith of the power of the doeris
 (as the man walkynge). Thanne seide I no wrong
 that, yif that thise thinges ben referred to the
 devyne knowynge, thanne ben thei necessarie;
 and yif thei ben considered by hemself, than ben
 thei absolut fro the boond of necessite. Right so
 as alle thingis that apiereth or scheweth to the
 wittes, yif thou referre it to resoun, it is
 universel; and yif thou loke it or referre it
240 to itself, than is it singuler.
 "But now yif thou seist thus: that, `If it be
 in my power to chaunge my purpos, than schal
 I voiden the purveaunce of God, whan paraventure
 I schal han chaungid the thingis that
 he knoweth byforn,' thanne schal I answeren
 the thus: `Certes thou maist wel chaungen thi
 purpos; but for as mochil as the present
 sothnesse of the devyne purveaunce byholdeth
 that thou maist chaunge thi purpos, and
250 whethir thou wolt chaunge it or no, and
 whider-ward that thou torne it, thou ne
 maist nat eschuen the devyne prescience, ryght
 as thou ne maist nat fleen the sighte of the
 present eye, althoghe that thou torne thiself by
 thi fre wil into diverse acciouns.' But thou maist
 sein ayein: `How schal it thanne be -- schal nat
 the devyne science ben chaunged by my
 disposicioun whan that I wol o thing now and
 now anothir? And thilke prescience -- ne
260 semeth it nat to entrechaunge stoundis of
 knowynge?'" (As who seith, ne schal it nat
 seme to us that the devyne prescience entrechaungith
 hise diverse stoundes of knowynge,
 so that it knowe somtyme o thing, and somtyme
 the contrarie?)
 "No, forsothe," quod she, "for the devyne
 sighte renneth toforn and seeth alle futures, and
 clepith hem ayen and retorneth hem to the
 presence of his propre knowynge; ne he ne
270 entrechaungith nat, so as thou wenest, the
 stoundes of foreknowynge, as now this,
 now that; but he ay duellynge cometh byforn,
 and enbraseth at o strook alle thi mutaciouns.
 And this presence to comprehenden and to seen
 alle thingis -- God ne hath nat taken it of the
 bytidynge of thinges to come, but of his propre
 symplicite. And herby is assoiled thilke thing
 that thou puttest a litel herebyforn; that is to
 seyn, that it is unworthy thing to seyn that
280 our futures yeven cause of the science of
 God. For certis this strengthe of the devyne
 science, whiche that embraseth alle thinges by
 his presentarie knowynge, establissheth manere
 to alle thinges, and it ne oweth nawht to lattere
 thinges.
 "And syn that thise thinges ben thus (that is
 to seyn, syn that necessite nis nat in thinges by
 the devyne prescience), thanne is ther fredom of
 arbitrie, that duelleth hool and unwemmed
290 to mortal men; ne the lawes ne purposen
 nat wikkidly medes and peynes to the
 willynges of men that ben unbownden and quyt
 of alle necessite; and God, byholdere and
 forwytere of alle thingis, duelleth above, and the
 present eternite of his sighte renneth alwey with
 the diverse qualite of our dedes, dispensynge
 and ordeynynge medes to gode men and
 tormentz to wikkide men. Ne in ydel ne in veyn
 ne ben ther put in God hope and preyeris
300 that ne mowen nat ben unspedful ne
 withouten effect whan they been ryghtful.
 "Withstond thanne and eschue thou vices;
 worschipe and love thou vertues; areise thi
 corage to ryghtful hopes; yilde thou humble
 preieres an heyhe. Gret necessite of prowesse
 and vertu is encharged and comaunded to yow,
 yif ye nil nat dissimulen; syn that ye worken and
 don (that is to seyn, your dedes or your werkes)
 byforn the eyen of the juge that seeth and
310 demeth alle thinges."

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Troilus and Criseyde

Book 1

 The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen,
 That was the kyng Priamus sone of Troye,
 In lovynge, how his aventures fellen
 Fro wo to wele, and after out of joie,
 My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye.
 Thesiphone, thow help me for t' endite
 Thise woful vers, that wepen as I write.
 To the clepe I, thow goddesse of torment,
 Thow cruwel Furie, sorwynge evere in peyne,
10 Help me, that am the sorwful instrument,
 That helpeth loveres, as I kan, to pleyne;
 For wel sit it, the sothe for to seyne,
 A woful wight to han a drery feere,
 And to a sorwful tale, a sory chere.
 For I, that God of Loves servantz serve,
 Ne dar to Love, for myn unliklynesse,
 Preyen for speed, al sholde I therfore sterve,
 So fer am I from his help in derknesse.
 But natheles, if this may don gladnesse
20 Unto any lovere, and his cause availle,
 Have he my thonk, and myn be this travaille!
 But ye loveres, that bathen in gladnesse,
 If any drope of pyte in yow be,
 Remembreth yow on passed hevynesse
 That ye han felt, and on the adversite
 Of othere folk, and thynketh how that ye
 Han felt that Love dorste yow displese,
 Or ye han wonne hym with to gret an ese.
 And preieth for hem that ben in the cas
30 Of Troilus, as ye may after here,
 That Love hem brynge in hevene to solas;
 And ek for me preieth to God so dere
 That I have myght to shewe, in som manere,
 Swich peyne and wo as Loves folk endure,
 In Troilus unsely aventure.
 And biddeth ek for hem that ben despeired
 In love, that nevere nyl recovered be,
 And ek for hem that falsly ben apeired
 Thorugh wikked tonges, be it he or she;
40 Thus biddeth God, for his benignite,
 So graunte hem soone owt of this world to pace,
 That ben despeired out of Loves grace.
 And biddeth ek for hem that ben at ese,
 That God hem graunte ay good perseveraunce,
 And sende hem myght hire ladies so to plese
 That it to Love be worship and plesaunce.
 For so hope I my sowle best avaunce,
 To prey for hem that Loves servauntz be,
 And write hire wo, and lyve in charite,
50 And for to have of hem compassioun,
 As though I were hire owne brother dere.
 Now herkneth with a good entencioun,
 For now wil I gon streght to my matere,
 In which ye may the double sorwes here
 Of Troilus in lovynge of Criseyde,
 And how that she forsook hym er she deyde.
 Yt is wel wist how that the Grekes stronge
 In armes with a thousand shippes wente
 To Troiewardes, and the cite longe
60 Assegeden, neigh ten yer er they stente,
 And in diverse wise and oon entente,
 The ravysshyng to wreken of Eleyne,
 By Paris don, they wroughten al hir peyne.
 Now fel it so that in the town ther was
 Dwellynge a lord of gret auctorite,
 A gret devyn, that clepid was Calkas,
 That in science so expert was that he
 Knew wel that Troie sholde destroied be,
 By answere of his god, that highte thus:
70 Daun Phebus or Appollo Delphicus.
 So whan this Calkas knew by calkulynge,
 And ek by answer of this Appollo,
 That Grekes sholden swich a peple brynge,
 Thorugh which that Troie moste ben fordo,
 He caste anon out of the town to go;
 For wel wiste he by sort that Troye sholde
 Destroyed ben, ye, wolde whoso nolde.
 For which for to departen softely
 Took purpos ful this forknowynge wise,
80 And to the Grekes oost ful pryvely
 He stal anon; and they, in curteys wise,
 Hym diden bothe worship and servyce,
 In trust that he hath konnynge hem to rede
 In every peril which that is to drede.
 Gret rumour gan, whan it was first aspied
 Thorugh al the town, and generaly was spoken,
 That Calkas traitour fled was and allied
 With hem of Grece, and casten to be wroken
 On hym that falsly hadde his feith so broken,
90 And seyden he and al his kyn at-ones
 Ben worthi for to brennen, fel and bones.
 Now hadde Calkas left in this meschaunce,
 Al unwist of this false and wikked dede,
 His doughter, which that was in gret penaunce,
 For of hire lif she was ful sore in drede,
 As she that nyste what was best to rede;
 For bothe a widewe was she and allone
 Of any frend to whom she dorste hir mone.
 Criseyde was this lady name al right.
100 As to my doom, in al Troies cite
 Nas non so fair, forpassynge every wight,
 So aungelik was hir natif beaute,
 That lik a thing inmortal semed she,
 As doth an hevenyssh perfit creature,
 That down were sent in scornynge of nature.
 This lady, which that alday herd at ere
 Hire fadres shame, his falsnesse and tresoun,
 Wel neigh out of hir wit for sorwe and fere,
 In widewes habit large of samyt broun,
110 On knees she fil biforn Ector adown
 With pitous vois, and tendrely wepynge,
 His mercy bad, hirselven excusynge.
 Now was this Ector pitous of nature,
 And saugh that she was sorwfully bigon,
 And that she was so fair a creature;
 Of his goodnesse he gladede hire anon,
 And seyde, "Lat youre fadres treson gon
 Forth with meschaunce, and ye youreself in joie
 Dwelleth with us, whil yow good list, in Troie.
120 "And al th' onour that men may don yow have,
 As ferforth as youre fader dwelled here,
 Ye shul have, and youre body shal men save,
 As fer as I may ought enquere or here."
 And she hym thonked with ful humble chere,
 And ofter wolde, and it hadde ben his wille,
 And took hire leve, and hom, and held hir stille.
 And in hire hous she abood with swich meyne
 As til hire honour nede was to holde;
 And whil she was dwellynge in that cite,
130 Kepte hir estat, and both of yonge and olde
 Ful wel biloved, and wel men of hir tolde.
 But wheither that she children hadde or noon,
 I rede it naught, therfore I late it goon.
 The thynges fellen, as they don of werre,
 Bitwixen hem of Troie and Grekes ofte;
 For som day boughten they of Troie it derre,
 And eft the Grekes founden nothing softe
 The folk of Troie; and thus Fortune on lofte
 And under eft gan hem to whielen bothe
140 Aftir hir course, ay whil that thei were wrothe.
 But how this town com to destruccion
 Ne falleth naught to purpos me to telle,
 For it were a long digression
 Fro my matere, and yow to long to dwelle.
 But the Troian gestes, as they felle,
 In Omer, or in Dares, or in Dite,
 Whoso that kan may rede hem as they write.
 But though that Grekes hem of Troie shetten,
 And hir cite biseged al aboute,
150 Hire olde usage nolde they nat letten,
 As for to honoure hir goddes ful devoute;
 But aldirmost in honour, out of doute,
 Thei hadde a relik, heet Palladion,
 That was hire trist aboven everichon.
 And so bifel, whan comen was the tyme
 Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede
 With newe grene, of lusty Veer the pryme,
 And swote smellen floures white and rede,
 In sondry wises shewed, as I rede,
160 The folk of Troie hire observaunces olde,
 Palladiones feste for to holde.
 And to the temple, in al hir beste wise,
 In general ther wente many a wight,
 To herknen of Palladions servyce;
 And namely, so many a lusty knyght,
 So many a lady fressh and mayden bright,
 Ful wel arayed, both meeste, mene, and leste,
 Ye, bothe for the seson and the feste.
 Among thise othere folk was Criseyda,
170 In widewes habit blak; but natheles,
 Right as oure firste lettre is now an A,
 In beaute first so stood she, makeles.
 Hire goodly lokyng gladed al the prees.
 Nas nevere yet seyn thyng to ben preysed derre,
 Nor under cloude blak so bright a sterre
 As was Criseyde, as folk seyde everichone
 That hir behelden in hir blake wede.
 And yet she stood ful lowe and stille allone,
 Byhynden other folk, in litel brede,
180 And neigh the dore, ay undre shames drede,
 Simple of atir and debonaire of chere,
 With ful assured lokyng and manere.
 This Troilus, as he was wont to gide
 His yonge knyghtes, lad hem up and down
 In thilke large temple on every side,
 Byholding ay the ladies of the town,
 Now here, now there; for no devocioun
 Hadde he to non, to reven hym his reste,
 But gan to preise and lakken whom hym leste.
190 And in his walk ful faste he gan to wayten
 If knyght or squyer of his compaignie
 Gan for to syke, or lete his eighen baiten
 On any womman that he koude espye.
 He wolde smyle and holden it folye,
 And seye hym thus, "God woot, she slepeth softe
 For love of the, whan thow turnest ful ofte!
 "I have herd told, pardieux, of youre lyvynge,
 Ye loveres, and youre lewed observaunces,
 And which a labour folk han in wynnynge
200 Of love, and in the kepyng which doutaunces;
 And whan youre prey is lost, woo and penaunces.
 O veray fooles, nyce and blynde be ye!
 Ther nys nat oon kan war by other be."
 And with that word he gan caste up the browe,
 Ascaunces, "Loo! is this naught wisely spoken?"
 At which the God of Love gan loken rowe
 Right for despit, and shop for to ben wroken.
 He kidde anon his bowe nas naught broken;
 For sodeynly he hitte hym atte fulle --
210 And yet as proud a pekok kan he pulle.
 O blynde world, O blynde entencioun!
 How often falleth al the effect contraire
 Of surquidrie and foul presumpcioun;
 For kaught is proud, and kaught is debonaire.
 This Troilus is clomben on the staire,
 And litel weneth that he moot descenden;
 But alday faileth thing that fooles wenden.
 As proude Bayard gynneth for to skippe
 Out of the weye, so pryketh hym his corn,
220 Til he a lasshe have of the longe whippe --
 Than thynketh he, "Though I praunce al byforn
 First in the trays, ful fat and newe shorn,
 Yet am I but an hors, and horses lawe
 I moot endure, and with my feres drawe" --
 So ferde it by this fierse and proude knyght:
 Though he a worthy kynges sone were,
 And wende nothing hadde had swich myght
 Ayeyns his wille that shuld his herte stere,
 Yet with a look his herte wex a-fere,
230 That he that now was moost in pride above,
 Wax sodeynly moost subgit unto love.
 Forthy ensample taketh of this man,
 Ye wise, proude, and worthi folkes alle,
 To scornen Love, which that so soone kan
 The fredom of youre hertes to hym thralle;
 For evere it was, and evere it shal byfalle,
 That Love is he that alle thing may bynde,
 For may no man fordon the lawe of kynde.
 That this be soth, hath preved and doth yit.
240 For this trowe I ye knowen alle or some,
 Men reden nat that folk han gretter wit
 Than they that han be most with love ynome;
 And strengest folk ben therwith overcome,
 The worthiest and grettest of degree:
 This was, and is, and yet men shall it see.
 And trewelich it sit wel to be so,
 For alderwisest han therwith ben plesed;
 And they that han ben aldermost in wo,
 With love han ben comforted moost and esed;
250 And ofte it hath the cruel herte apesed,
 And worthi folk maad worthier of name,
 And causeth moost to dreden vice and shame.
 Now sith it may nat goodly ben withstonde,
 And is a thing so vertuous in kynde,
 Refuseth nat to Love for to ben bonde,
 Syn, as hymselven liste, he may yow bynde;
 The yerde is bet that bowen wole and wynde
 Than that that brest, and therfore I yow rede
 To folowen hym that so wel kan yow lede.
260 But for to tellen forth in special
 Of this kynges sone of which I tolde,
 And leten other thing collateral,
 Of hym thenke I my tale forth to holde,
 Both of his joie and of his cares colde;
 And al his werk, as touching this matere,
 For I it gan, I wol therto refere.
 Withinne the temple he wente hym forth pleyinge,
 This Troilus, of every wight aboute,
 On this lady, and now on that, lokynge,
270 Wher so she were of town or of withoute;
 And upon cas bifel that thorugh a route
 His eye percede, and so depe it wente,
 Til on Criseyde it smot, and ther it stente.
 And sodeynly he wax therwith astoned,
 And gan hir bet biholde in thrifty wise.
 "O mercy, God," thoughte he, "wher hastow woned,
 That art so feyr and goodly to devise?"
 Therwith his herte gan to sprede and rise,
 And softe sighed, lest men myghte hym here,
280 And caught ayeyn his firste pleyinge chere.
 She nas nat with the leste of hire stature,
 But alle hire lymes so wel answerynge
 Weren to wommanhod, that creature
 Was nevere lasse mannyssh in semynge;
 And ek the pure wise of hire mevynge
 Shewed wel that men myght in hire gesse
 Honour, estat, and wommanly noblesse.
 To Troilus right wonder wel with alle
 Gan for to like hire mevynge and hire chere,
290 Which somdel deignous was, for she let falle
 Hire look a lite aside in swich manere,
 Ascaunces, "What, may I nat stonden here?"
 And after that hir lokynge gan she lighte,
 That nevere thoughte hym seen so good a syghte.
 And of hire look in him ther gan to quyken
 So gret desir and such affeccioun,
 That in his herte botme gan to stiken
 Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun.
 And though he erst hadde poured up and down,
300 He was tho glad his hornes in to shrinke:
 Unnethes wiste he how to loke or wynke.
 Lo, he that leet hymselven so konnynge,
 And scorned hem that Loves peynes dryen,
 Was ful unwar that Love hadde his dwellynge
 Withinne the subtile stremes of hire yen;
 That sodeynly hym thoughte he felte dyen,
 Right with hire look, the spirit in his herte:
 Blissed be Love, that kan thus folk converte!
 She, this in blak, likynge to Troilus
310 Over alle thing, he stood for to biholde;
 Ne his desir, ne wherfore he stood thus,
 He neither chere made, ne word tolde;
 But from afer, his manere for to holde,
 On other thing his look som tyme he caste,
 And eft on hire, whil that servyse laste.
 And after this, nat fullich al awhaped,
 Out of the temple al esilich he wente,
 Repentynge hym that he hadde evere ijaped
 Of Loves folk, lest fully the descente
320 Of scorn fille on hymself; but what he mente,
 Lest it were wist on any manere syde,
 His woo he gan dissimilen and hide.
 Whan he was fro the temple thus departed,
 He streght anon unto his paleys torneth.
 Right with hire look thorugh-shoten and thorugh-darted,
 Al feyneth he in lust that he sojorneth,
 And al his chere and speche also he borneth,
 And ay of Loves servantz every while,
 Hymself to wrye, at hem he gan to smyle,
330 And seyde, "Lord, so ye lyve al in lest,
 Ye loveres! For the konnyngeste of yow,
 That serveth most ententiflich and best,
 Hym tit as often harm therof as prow.
 Youre hire is quyt ayeyn, ye, God woot how!
 Nought wel for wel, but scorn for good servyse.
 In feith, youre ordre is ruled in good wise!
 "In nouncerteyn ben alle youre observaunces,
 But it a sely fewe pointes be;
 Ne no thing asketh so gret attendaunces
340 As doth youre lay, and that knowe alle ye;
 But that is nat the worste, as mote I the!
 But, tolde I yow the worste point, I leve,
 Al seyde I soth, ye wolden at me greve.
 "But take this: that ye loveres ofte eschuwe,
 Or elles doon, of good entencioun,
 Ful ofte thi lady wol it mysconstruwe,
 And deme it harm in hire oppynyoun;
 And yet if she, for other enchesoun,
 Be wroth, than shaltow have a groyn anon.
350 Lord, wel is hym that may ben of yow oon!"
 But for al this, whan that he say his tyme,
 He held his pees -- non other boote hym gayned --
 For love bigan his fetheres so to lyme
 That wel unnethe until his folk he fayned
 That other besy nedes hym destrayned;
 For wo was hym, that what to doon he nyste,
 But bad his folk to gon wher that hem liste.
 And whan that he in chambre was allone,
 He doun upon his beddes feet hym sette,
360 And first he gan to sike, and eft to grone,
 And thought ay on hire so, withouten lette,
 That, as he sat and wook, his spirit mette
 That he hire saugh a-temple, and al the wise
 Right of hire look, and gan it newe avise.
 Thus gan he make a mirour of his mynde
 In which he saugh al holly hire figure,
 And that he wel koude in his herte fynde.
 It was to hym a right good aventure
 To love swich oon, and if he dede his cure
370 To serven hir, yet myghte he falle in grace,
 Or ellis for oon of hire servantz pace.
 Imagenynge that travaille nor grame
 Ne myghte for so goodly oon be lorn
 As she, ne hym for his desir no shame,
 Al were it wist, but in pris and up-born
 Of alle lovers wel more than biforn,
 Thus argumented he in his gynnynge,
 Ful unavysed of his woo comynge.
 Thus took he purpos loves craft to suwe,
380 And thoughte he wolde werken pryvely,
 First to hiden his desir in muwe
 From every wight yborn, al outrely,
 But he myghte ought recovered be therby,
 Remembryng hym that love to wide yblowe
 Yelt bittre fruyt, though swete seed be sowe.
 And over al this, yet muchel more he thoughte
 What for to speke, and what to holden inne;
 And what to arten hire to love he soughte,
 And on a song anon-right to bygynne,
390 And gan loude on his sorwe for to wynne;
 For with good hope he gan fully assente
 Criseyde for to love, and nought repente.
 And of his song naught only the sentence,
 As writ myn auctour called Lollius,
 But pleinly, save oure tonges difference,
 I dar wel seyn, in al, that Troilus
 Seyde in his song, loo, every word right thus
 As I shal seyn; and whoso list it here,
 Loo, next this vers he may it fynden here.
400 "If no love is, O God, what fele I so?
 And if love is, what thing and which is he?
 If love be good, from whennes cometh my woo?
 If it be wikke, a wonder thynketh me,
 When every torment and adversite
 That cometh of hym may to me savory thinke,
 For ay thurst I, the more that ich it drynke.
 "And if that at myn owen lust I brenne,
 From whennes cometh my waillynge and my pleynte?
 If harm agree me, wherto pleyne I thenne?
410 I noot, ne whi unwery that I feynte.
 O quike deth, O swete harm so queynte,
 How may of the in me swich quantite,
 But if that I consente that it be?
 "And if that I consente, I wrongfully
 Compleyne, iwis. Thus possed to and fro,
 Al sterelees withinne a boot am I
 Amydde the see, bitwixen wyndes two,
 That in contrarie stonden evere mo.
 Allas, what is this wondre maladie?
420 For hote of cold, for cold of hote, I dye."
 And to the God of Love thus seyde he
 With pitous vois, "O lord, now youres is
 My spirit, which that oughte youres be.
 Yow thanke I, lord, that han me brought to this.
 But wheither goddesse or womman, iwis,
 She be, I not, which that ye do me serve;
 But as hire man I wol ay lyve and sterve.
 "Ye stonden in hir eighen myghtily,
 As in a place unto youre vertu digne;
430 Wherfore, lord, if my service or I
 May liken yow, so beth to me benigne;
 For myn estat roial I here resigne
 Into hire hond, and with ful humble chere
 Bicome hir man, as to my lady dere."
 In hym ne deyned spare blood roial
 The fyr of love -- wherfro God me blesse --
 Ne him forbar in no degree, for al
 His vertu or his excellent prowesse,
 But held hym as his thral lowe in destresse,
440 And brende hym so in soundry wise ay newe,
 That sexti tyme a day he loste his hewe.
 So muche, day by day, his owene thought,
 For lust to hire, gan quiken and encresse,
 That every other charge he sette at nought.
 Forthi ful ofte, his hote fir to cesse,
 To sen hire goodly lok he gan to presse;
 For therby to ben esed wel he wende,
 And ay the ner he was, the more he brende.
 For ay the ner the fir, the hotter is --
450 This, trowe I, knoweth al this compaignye;
 But were he fer or ner, I dar sey this:
 By nyght or day, for wisdom or folye,
 His herte, which that is his brestez ye,
 Was ay on hire, that fairer was to sene
 Than evere were Eleyne or Polixene.
 Ek of the day ther passed nought an houre
 That to hymself a thousand tyme he seyde,
 "Good goodly, to whom serve I and laboure
 As I best kan, now wolde God, Criseyde,
460 Ye wolden on me rewe, er that I deyde!
 My dere herte, allas, myn hele and hewe
 And lif is lost, but ye wol on me rewe!"
 Alle other dredes weren from him fledde,
 Both of th' assege and his savacioun;
 N' yn him desir noon other fownes bredde,
 But argumentes to his conclusioun:
 That she of him wolde han compassioun,
 And he to ben hire man while he may dure.
 Lo, here his lif, and from the deth his cure!
470 The sharpe shoures felle of armes preve
 That Ector or his othere brethren diden
 Ne made hym only therfore ones meve;
 And yet was he, where so men wente or riden,
 Founde oon the beste, and longest tyme abiden
 Ther peril was, and dide ek swich travaille
 In armes, that to thenke it was merveille.
 But for non hate he to the Grekes hadde,
 Ne also for the rescous of the town,
 Ne made hym thus in armes for to madde,
480 But only, lo, for this conclusioun:
 To liken hire the bet for his renoun.
 Fro day to day in armes so he spedde
 That the Grekes as the deth him dredde.
 And fro this forth tho refte hym love his slep,
 And made his mete his foo, and ek his sorwe
 Gan multiplie, that, whoso tok kep,
 It shewed in his hewe both eve and morwe.
 Therfor a title he gan him for to borwe
 Of other siknesse, lest men of hym wende
490 That the hote fir of love hym brende,
 And seyde he hadde a fevere and ferde amys.
 But how it was, certeyn, kan I nat seye,
 If that his lady understood nat this,
 Or feynede hire she nyste, oon of the tweye;
 But wel I rede that, by no manere weye,
 Ne semed it that she of hym roughte,
 Or of his peyne, or whatsoevere he thoughte.
 But thanne felte this Troilus swich wo
 That he was wel neigh wood; for ay his drede
500 Was this, that she som wight hadde loved so,
 That nevere of hym she wolde han taken hede,
 For which hym thoughte he felte his herte blede;
 Ne of his wo ne dorste he nat bygynne
 To tellen hir, for al this world to wynne.
 But whan he hadde a space from his care,
 Thus to hymself ful ofte he gan to pleyne;
 He seyde, "O fool, now artow in the snare,
 That whilom japedest at loves peyne.
 Now artow hent, now gnaw thin owen cheyne!
510 Thow were ay wont ech lovere reprehende
 Of thing fro which thou kanst the nat defende.
 "What wol now every lovere seyn of the,
 If this be wist, but evere in thin absence
 Laughen in scorn, and seyn, `Loo, ther goth he
 That is the man of so gret sapience,
 That held us loveres leest in reverence.
 Now, thanked God, he may gon in the daunce
 Of hem that Love list febly for to avaunce.'
 "But, O thow woful Troilus, God wolde,
520 Sith thow most loven thorugh thi destine,
 That thow beset were on swich oon that sholde
 Know al thi wo, al lakked hir pitee!
 But also cold in love towardes the
 Thi lady is as frost in wynter moone,
 And thow fordon as snow in fire is soone.
 "God wold I were aryved in the port
 Of deth, to which my sorwe wol me lede!
 A, Lord, to me it were a gret comfort;
 Than were I quyt of languisshyng in drede;
530 For, be myn hidde sorwe iblowe on brede,
 I shal byjaped ben a thousand tyme
 More than that fol of whos folie men ryme.
 "But now help, God, and ye, swete, for whom
 I pleyne, ikaught, ye, nevere wight so faste!
 O mercy, dere herte, and help me from
 The deth, for I, whil that my lyf may laste,
 More than myself wol love yow to my laste;
 And with som frendly lok gladeth me, swete,
 Though nevere more thing ye me byheete."
540 Thise wordes, and ful many an other to,
 He spak, and called evere in his compleynte
 Hire name, for to tellen hire his wo,
 Til neigh that he in salte teres dreynte.
 Al was for nought: she herde nat his pleynte;
 And whan that he bythought on that folie,
 A thousand fold his wo gan multiplie.
 Bywayling in his chambre thus allone,
 A frend of his that called was Pandare
 Com oones in unwar, and herde hym groone,
550 And say his frend in swich destresse and care:
 "Allas," quod he, "who causeth al this fare?
 O mercy, God! What unhap may this meene?
 Han now thus soone Grekes maad yow leene?
 "Or hastow som remors of conscience,
 And art now falle in som devocioun,
 And wailest for thi synne and thin offence,
 And hast for ferde caught attricioun?
 God save hem that biseged han oure town,
 That so kan leye oure jolite on presse,
560 And bringe oure lusty folk to holynesse!"
 Thise wordes seyde he for the nones alle,
 That with swich thing he myght hym angry maken,
 And with angre don his wo to falle,
 As for the tyme, and his corage awaken.
 But wel he wist, as fer as tonges spaken,
 Ther nas a man of gretter hardinesse
 Thanne he, ne more desired worthinesse.
 "What cas," quod Troilus, "or what aventure
 Hath gided the to sen me langwisshinge,
570 That am refus of every creature?
 But for the love of God, at my preyinge,
 Go hennes awey; for certes my deyinge
 Wol the disese, and I mot nedes deye;
 Therfore go wey, ther is na more to seye.
 "But if thow wene I be thus sik for drede,
 It is naught so, and therfore scorne nought.
 Ther is another thing I take of hede
 Wel more than aught the Grekes han yet wrought,
 Which cause is of my deth, for sorowe and thought;
580 But though that I now telle it the ne leste,
 Be thow naught wroth; I hide it for the beste."
 This Pandare, that neigh malt for wo and routhe,
 Ful ofte seyde, "Allas, what may this be?
 Now frend," quod he, "if evere love or trouthe
 Hath ben, or is, bitwixen the and me,
 Ne do thow nevere swich a crueltee
 To hiden fro thi frend so gret a care!
 Wostow naught wel that it am I, Pandare?
 "I wol parten with the al thi peyne,
590 If it be so I do the no comfort,
 As it is frendes right, soth for to seyne,
 To entreparten wo as glad desport.
 I have, and shal, for trewe or fals report,
 In wrong and right iloved the al my lyve:
 Hid nat thi wo fro me, but telle it blyve."
 Than gan this sorwful Troylus to syke,
 And seide hym thus: "God leve it be my beste
 To telle it the; for sith it may the like,
 Yet wol I telle it, though myn herte breste.
600 And wel woot I thow mayst do me no reste;
 But lest thow deme I truste nat to the,
 Now herke, frend, for thus it stant with me.
 "Love, ayeins the which whoso defendeth
 Hymselven most, hym alderlest avaylleth,
 With disespeyr so sorwfulli me offendeth,
 That streight unto the deth myn herte sailleth.
 Therto desir so brennyngly me assailleth,
 That to ben slayn it were a gretter joie
 To me than kyng of Grece ben and Troye.
610 "Suffiseth this, my fulle frend Pandare,
 That I have seyd, for now wostow my wo;
 And for the love of God, my colde care,
 So hide it wel -- I tolde it nevere to mo,
 For harmes myghten folwen mo than two
 If it were wist -- but be thow in gladnesse,
 And lat me sterve, unknowe, of my destresse."
 "How hastow thus unkyndely and longe
 Hid this fro me, thow fol?" quod Pandarus.
 "Paraunter thow myghte after swich oon longe,
620 That myn avys anoon may helpen us."
 "This were a wonder thing," quod Troilus;
 "Thow koudest nevere in love thiselven wisse.
 How devel maistow brynge me to blisse?"
 "Ye, Troilus, now herke," quod Pandare;
 "Though I be nyce, it happeth often so,
 That oon that excesse doth ful yvele fare
 By good counseil kan kepe his frend therfro.
 I have myself ek seyn a blynd man goo
 Ther as he fel that couth. loken wide;
630 A fool may ek a wis-man ofte gide.
 "A wheston is no kervyng instrument,
 But yet it maketh sharppe kervyng tolis;
 And there thow woost that I have aught myswent,
 Eschuw thow that, for swich thing to the scole is.
 Thus often wise men ben war by foolys.
 If thow do so, thi wit is wel bewared;
 By his contrarie is every thyng declared.
 "For how myghte evere swetnesse han ben knowe
 To him that nevere tasted bitternesse?
640 Ne no man may ben inly glad, I trowe,
 That nevere was in sorwe or som destresse.
 Eke whit by blak, by shame ek worthinesse,
 Ech set by other, more for other semeth,
 As men may se, and so the wyse it demeth.
 "Sith thus of two contraries is o lore,
 I, that have in love so ofte assayed
 Grevances, oughte konne, and wel the more,
 Counseillen the of that thow art amayed.
 Ek the ne aughte nat ben yvel appayed,
650 Though I desyre with the for to bere
 Thyn hevy charge; it shal the lasse dere.
 "I woot wel that it fareth thus be me
 As to thi brother, Paris, an herdesse
 Which that icleped was Oenone
 Wrot in a compleynte of hir hevynesse.
 Yee say the lettre that she wrot, I gesse?"
 "Nay, nevere yet, ywys," quod Troilus.
 "Now," quod Pandare, "herkne, it was thus:
 "`Phebus, that first fond art of medicyne,'
660 Quod she, `and couth. in every wightes care
 Remedye and reed, by herbes he knew fyne,
 Yet to hymself his konnyng was ful bare,
 For love hadde hym so bounden in a snare,
 Al for the doughter of the kyng Amete,
 That al his craft ne koude his sorwes bete.'
 "Right so fare I, unhappyly for me.
 I love oon best, and that me smerteth sore;
 And yet, peraunter, kan I reden the
 And nat myself; repreve me na more.
670 I have no cause, I woot wel, for to sore
 As doth an hauk that listeth for to pleye;
 But to thin help yet somwhat kan I seye.
 "And of o thing right siker maistow be,
 That certein, for to dyen in the peyne,
 That I shal nevere mo discoveren the;
 Ne, by my trouthe, I kepe nat restreyne
 The fro thi love, theigh that it were Eleyne
 That is thi brother wif, if ich it wiste:
 Be what she be, and love hire as the liste!
680 "Therfore, as frend, fullich in me assure,
 And tel me plat what is th' enchesoun
 And final cause of wo that ye endure;
 For douteth nothyng, myn entencioun
 Nis nat to yow of reprehencioun,
 To speke as now, for no wight may byreve
 A man to love, tyl that hym list to leve.
 "And witteth wel that bothe two ben vices:
 Mistrusten alle, or elles alle leve.
 But wel I woot, the mene of it no vice is,
690 For to trusten som wight is a preve
 Of trouth; and forthi wolde I fayn remeve
 Thi wrong conseyte, and do the som wyght triste
 Thi wo to telle; and tel me, if the liste.
 "The wise seith, `Wo hym that is allone,
 For, and he falle, he hath non helpe to ryse';
 And sith thow hast a felawe, tel thi mone;
 For this nys naught, certein, the nexte wyse
 To wynnen love -- as techen us the wyse --
 To walwe and wepe as Nyobe the queene,
700 Whos teres yet in marble ben yseene.
 "Lat be thy wepyng and thi drerynesse,
 And lat us lissen wo with oother speche;
 So may thy woful tyme seme lesse.
 Delyte nat in wo thi wo to seche,
 As don thise foles that hire sorwes eche
 With sorwe, whan thei han mysaventure,
 And listen naught to seche hem other cure.
 "Men seyn, `to wrecche is consolacioun
 To have another felawe in hys peyne.'
710 That owghte wel ben oure opynyoun,
 For bothe thow and I of love we pleyne.
 So ful of sorwe am I, soth for to seyne,
 That certeinly namore harde grace
 May sitte on me, for-why ther is no space.
 "If God wol, thow art nat agast of me,
 Lest I wolde of thi lady the bygyle!
 Thow woost thyself whom that I love, parde,
 As I best kan, gon sithen longe while.
 And sith thow woost I do it for no wyle,
720 And sith I am he that thow trustest moost,
 Tel me somwhat, syn al my wo thow woost."
 Yet Troilus for al this no word seyde,
 But longe he ley as stylle as he ded were;
 And after this with sikynge he abreyde,
 And to Pandarus vois he lente his ere,
 And up his eighen caste he, that in feere
 Was Pandarus, lest that in frenesie
 He sholde falle, or elles soone dye;
 And cryde "Awake!" ful wonderlich and sharpe;
730 "What! Slombrestow as in a litargie?
 Or artow lik an asse to the harpe,
 That hereth sown whan men the strynges plye,
 But in his mynde of that no melodie
 May sinken hym to gladen, for that he
 So dul ys of his bestialite?"
 And with that, Pandare of his wordes stente;
 And Troilus yet hym nothyng answerde,
 For-why to tellen nas nat his entente
 To nevere no man, for whom that he so ferde;
740 For it is seyd, "Men maketh ofte a yerde
 With which the maker is hymself ybeten
 In sondry manere," as thise wyse treten,
 And namelich in his counseil tellynge
 That toucheth love that oughte ben secree;
 For of himself it wol ynough out sprynge,
 But if that it the bet governed be.
 Ek som tyme it is a craft to seme fle
 Fro thyng whych in effect men hunte faste;
 Al this gan Troilus in his herte caste.
750 But natheles, whan he hadde herd hym crye
 "Awake!" he gan to syken wonder soore,
 And seyde, "Frend, though that I stylle lye,
 I am nat deef. Now pees, and crye namore,
 For I have herd thi wordes and thi lore;
 But suffre me my meschief to bywaille,
 For thy proverbes may me naught availle.
 "Nor other cure kanstow non for me;
 Ek I nyl nat ben cured; I wol deye.
 What knowe I of the queene Nyobe?
760 Lat be thyne olde ensaumples, I the preye."
 "No," quod Pandarus, "therfore I seye,
 Swych is delit of foles to bywepe
 Hire wo, but seken bote they ne kepe.
 "Now knowe I that ther reson in the failleth.
 But tel me, if I wiste what she were
 For whom that the al this mysaunter ailleth,
 Dorstestow that I tolde in hire ere
 Thi wo, sith thow darst naught thiself for feere,
 And hire bysoughte on the to han som routhe?"
770 "Why, nay," quod he, "by God and by my trouthe!"
 "What, nat as bisyly," quod Pandarus,
 "As though myn owene lyf lay on this nede?"
 "No, certes, brother," quod this Troilus,
 "And whi? For that thow scholdest nevere spede."
 "Wostow that wel?" -- "Ye, that is out of drede,"
 Quod Troilus; "for al that evere ye konne,
 She nyl to noon swich wrecche as I ben wonne."
 Quod Pandarus, "Allas! What may this be,
 That thow dispeired art thus causeles?
780 What! lyveth nat thi lady, bendiste?
 How wostow so that thow art graceles?
 Swich yvel is nat alwey booteles.
 Why, put nat impossible thus thi cure,
 Syn thyng to come is oft in aventure.
 "I graunte wel that thow endurest wo
 As sharp as doth he Ticius in helle,
 Whos stomak foughles tiren evere moo
 That hightyn volturis, as bokes telle;
 But I may nat endure that thow dwelle
790 In so unskilful an oppynyoun
 That of thi wo is no curacioun.
 "But oones nyltow, for thy coward herte,
 And for thyn ire and folissh wilfulnesse,
 For wantrust, tellen of thy sorwes smerte,
 Ne to thyn owen help don bysynesse
 As muche as speke a resoun moore or lesse,
 But list as he that lest of nothyng recche.
 What womman koude loven swich a wrecche?
 "What may she demen oother of thy deeth,
800 If thow thus deye, and she not why it is,
 But that for feere is yolden up thy breth,
 For Grekes han biseged us, iwys?
 Lord, which a thonk than shaltow han of this!
 Thus wol she seyn, and al the town attones,
 `The wrecche is ded, the devel have his bones!'
 "Thow mayst allone here wepe and crye and knele --
 But love a womman that she woot it nought,
 And she wol quyte it that thow shalt nat fele;
 Unknowe, unkist, and lost that is unsought.
810 What, many a man hath love ful deere ybought
 Twenty wynter that his lady wiste,
 That nevere yet his lady mouth he kiste.
 "What sholde he therfore fallen in dispayr,
 Or be recreant for his owne tene,
 Or slen hymself, al be his lady fair?
 Nay, nay, but evere in oon be fressh and grene
 To serve and love his deere hertes queene,
 And thynk it is a guerdon hire to serve,
 A thousand fold moore than he kan deserve."
820 Of that word took hede Troilus,
 And thoughte anon what folie he was inne,
 And how that soth hym seyde Pandarus,
 That for to slen hymself myght he nat wynne,
 But bothe don unmanhod and a synne,
 And of his deth his lady naught to wite;
 For of his wo, God woot, she knew ful lite.
 And with that thought he gan ful sore syke,
 And seyde, "Allas! What is me best to do?"
 To whom Pandare answered, "If the like,
830 The beste is that thow telle me al thi wo;
 And have my trouthe, but thow it fynde so
 I be thi boote, er that it be ful longe,
 To pieces do me drawe and sithen honge!"
 "Ye, so thow seyst," quod Troilus tho, "allas!
 But, God woot, it is naught the rather so.
 Ful hard were it to helpen in this cas,
 For wel fynde I that Fortune is my fo;
 Ne al the men that riden konne or go
 May of hire cruel whiel the harm withstonde;
840 For as hire list she pleyeth with free and bonde."
 Quod Pandarus, "Than blamestow Fortune
 For thow art wroth; ye, now at erst I see.
 Woost thow nat wel that Fortune is comune
 To everi manere wight in som degree?
 And yet thow hast this comfort, lo, parde,
 That, as hire joies moten overgon,
 So mote hire sorwes passen everechon.
 "For if hire whiel stynte any thyng to torne,
 Than cessed she Fortune anon to be.
850 Now, sith hire whiel by no way may sojourne,
 What woostow if hire mutabilite
 Right as thyselven list wol don by the,
 Or that she be naught fer fro thyn helpynge?
 Paraunter thow hast cause for to synge.
 "And therfore wostow what I the biseche?
 Lat be thy wo and tornyng to the grounde;
 For whoso list have helyng of his leche,
 To hym byhoveth first unwre his wownde.
 To Cerberus yn helle ay be I bounde,
860 Were it for my suster, al thy sorwe,
 By my wil she sholde al be thyn to-morwe.
 "Look up, I seye, and telle me what she is
 Anon, that I may gon about thy nede.
 Knowe ich hire aught? For my love, telle me this.
 Thanne wolde I hopen rather for to spede."
 Tho gan the veyne of Troilus to blede,
 For he was hit, and wax al reed for shame.
 "A ha!" quod Pandare; "Here bygynneth game."
 And with that word he gan hym for to shake,
870 And seyde, "Thef, thow shalt hyre name telle."
 But tho gan sely Troilus for to quake
 As though men sholde han led hym into helle,
 And seyde, "Allas, of al my wo the welle,
 Thanne is my swete fo called Criseyde!"
 And wel neigh with the word for feere he deide.
 And whan that Pandare herde hire name nevene,
 Lord, he was glad, and seyde, "Frend so deere,
 Now far aright, for Joves name in hevene.
 Love hath byset the wel; be of good cheere!
880 For of good name and wisdom and manere
 She hath ynough, and ek of gentilesse.
 If she be fayr, thow woost thyself, I gesse,
 "Ne nevere saugh a more bountevous
 Of hire estat, n' a gladder, ne of speche
 A frendlyer, n' a more gracious
 For to do wel, ne lasse hadde nede to seche
 What for to don; and al this bet to eche,
 In honour, to as fer as she may strecche,
 A kynges herte semeth by hyrs a wrecche.
890 "And forthi loke of good comfort thow be;
 For certeinly, the ferste poynt is this
 Of noble corage and wel ordeyne,
 A man to have pees with hymself, ywis.
 So oghtist thow, for noht but good it is
 To love wel, and in a worthy place;
 The oghte not to clepe it hap, but grace.
 "And also thynk, and therwith glade the,
 That sith thy lady vertuous is al,
 So foloweth it that there is some pitee
900 Amonges alle thise other in general;
 And forthi se that thow, in special,
 Requere naught that is ayeyns hyre name;
 For vertu streccheth naught hymself to shame.
 "But wel is me that evere that I was born,
 That thow biset art in so good a place;
 For by my trouthe, in love I dorste have sworn
 The sholde nevere han tid thus fayr a grace.
 And wostow why? For thow were wont to chace
 At Love in scorn, and for despit him calle
910 `Seynt Idiot, lord of thise foles alle.'
 "How often hastow maad thi nyce japes,
 And seyd that Loves servantz everichone
 Of nycete ben verray Goddes apes;
 And some wolde mucche hire mete allone,
 Liggyng abedde, and make hem for to grone;
 And som, thow seydest, hadde a blaunche fevere,
 And preydest God he sholde nevere kevere.
 "And som of hem took on hym, for the cold,
 More than ynough, so seydestow ful ofte.
920 And som han feyned ofte tyme, and told
 How that they waken, whan thei slepen softe;
 And thus they wolde han brought hemself alofte,
 And natheles were under at the laste.
 Thus seydestow, and japedest ful faste.
 "Yet seydestow that for the moore part
 Thise loveres wolden speke in general,
 And thoughten that it was a siker art,
 For faylyng, for t' assaien overal.
 Now may I jape of the, if that I shal;
930 But natheles, though that I sholde deye,
 That thow art non of tho, I dorste saye.
 "Now bet thi brest, and sey to God of Love,
 `Thy grace, lord, for now I me repente,
 If I mysspak, for now myself I love.'
 Thus sey with al thyn herte in good entente."
 Quod Troilus, "A, lord! I me consente,
 And preye to the my japes thow foryive,
 And I shal nevere more whyle I live."
 "Thow seist wel," quod Pandare, "and now I hope
940 That thow the goddes wrathe hast al apesed;
 And sithen thow hast wopen many a drope,
 And seyd swych thyng wherwith thi god is plesed,
 Now wolde nevere god but thow were esed!
 And thynk wel, she of whom rist al thi wo
 Hereafter may thy comfort be also.
 "For thilke grownd that bereth the wedes wikke
 Bereth ek thise holsom herbes, as ful ofte
 Next the foule netle, rough and thikke,
 The rose waxeth swoote and smothe and softe;
950 And next the valeye is the hil o-lofte;
 And next the derke nyght the glade morwe;
 And also joie is next the fyn of sorwe.
 "Now loke that atempre be thi bridel,
 And for the beste ay suffre to the tyde,
 Or elles al oure labour is on ydel:
 He hasteth wel that wisely kan abyde.
 Be diligent and trewe, and ay wel hide;
 Be lusty, fre; persevere in thy servyse,
 And al is wel, if thow werke in this wyse.
960 "But he that departed is in everi place
 Is nowher hol, as writen clerkes wyse.
 What wonder is, though swich oon have no grace?
 Ek wostow how it fareth of som servise,
 As plaunte a tree or herbe, in sondry wyse,
 And on the morwe pulle it up as blyve!
 No wonder is, though it may nevere thryve.
 "And sith that God of Love hath the bistowed
 In place digne unto thi worthinesse,
 Stond faste, for to good port hastow rowed;
970 And of thiself, for any hevynesse,
 Hope alwey wel; for, but if drerinesse
 Or over-haste oure bothe labour shende,
 I hope of this to maken a good ende.
 "And wostow why I am the lasse afered
 Of this matere with my nece trete?
 For this have I herd seyd of wyse lered,
 Was nevere man or womman yet bigete
 That was unapt to suffren loves hete,
 Celestial, or elles love of kynde;
980 Forthy som grace I hope in hire to fynde.
 "And for to speke of hire in specyal,
 Hire beaute to bithynken and hire youthe,
 It sit hire naught to ben celestial
 As yet, though that hire liste bothe and kowthe;
 But trewely, it sate hire wel right nowthe
 A worthi knyght to loven and cherice,
 And but she do, I holde it for a vice.
 "Wherfore I am, and wol ben, ay redy
 To peyne me to do yow this servyse;
990 For bothe yow to plese thus hope I
 Herafterward; for ye ben bothe wyse,
 And konne it counseil kepe in swych a wyse
 That no man shal the wiser of it be;
 And so we may ben gladed alle thre.
 "And, by my trouthe, I have right now of the
 A good conceyte in my wit, as I gesse,
 And what it is, I wol now that thow se.
 I thenke, sith that Love, of his goodnesse,
 Hath the converted out of wikkednesse,
1000 That thow shalt ben the beste post, I leve,
 Of al his lay, and moost his foos to greve.
 "Ensample why, se now thise wise clerkes,
 That erren aldermost ayeyn a lawe,
 And ben converted from hire wikked werkes
 Thorugh grace of God that list hem to hym drawe,
 Thanne arn thise folk that han moost God in awe,
 And strengest feythed ben, I undirstonde,
 And konne an errowr alderbest withstonde."
 Whan Troilus hadde herd Pandare assented
1010 To ben his help in lovyng of Cryseyde,
 Weex of his wo, as who seith, untormented,
 But hotter weex his love, and thus he seyde,
 With sobre chere, although his herte pleyde:
 "Now blisful Venus helpe, er that I sterve,
 Of the, Pandare, I mowe som thank deserve.
 "But, deere frend, how shal my wo be lesse
 Til this be doon? And good, ek telle me this:
 How wiltow seyn of me and my destresse,
 Lest she be wroth -- this drede I moost, ywys --
1020 Or nyl nat here or trowen how it is.
 Al this drede I, and ek for the manere
 Of the, hire em, she nyl no swich thyng here."
 Quod Pandarus, "Thow hast a ful gret care
 Lest that the cherl may falle out of the moone!
 Whi, Lord! I hate of the thi nyce fare!
 Whi, entremete of that thow hast to doone!
 For Goddes love, I bidde the a boone:
 So lat m' alone, and it shal be thi beste."
 "Whi, frend," quod he, "now do right as the leste.
1030 "But herke, Pandare, o word, for I nolde
 That thow in me wendest so gret folie,
 That to my lady I desiren sholde
 That toucheth harm or any vilenye;
 For dredeles me were levere dye
 Than she of me aught elles understode
 But that that myghte sownen into goode."
 Tho lough this Pandare, and anon answerde,
 "And I thi borugh? Fy! No wight doth but so.
 I roughte naught though that she stood and herde
1040 How that thow seist! but farewel, I wol go.
 Adieu! Be glad! God spede us bothe two!
 Yef me this labour and this bisynesse,
 And of my spede be thyn al that swetnesse."
 Tho Troilus gan doun on knees to falle,
 And Pandare in his armes hente faste,
 And seyde, "Now, fy on the Grekes alle!
 Yet, parde, God shal helpe us atte laste.
 And dredelees, if that my lyf may laste,
 And God toforn, lo, som of hem shal smerte;
1050 And yet m' athenketh that this avant m' asterte!
 "Now, Pandare, I kan na more seye,
 But, thow wis, thow woost, thow maist, thow art al!
 My lif, my deth, hol in thyn hond I leye.
 Help now!" Quod he, "Yis, by mi trowthe, I shal."
 "God yelde the, frend, and this in special,"
 Quod Troilus, "that thow me recomande
 To hire that to the deth me may comande."
 This Pandarus, tho desirous to serve
 His fulle frend, than seyde in this manere:
1060 "Farwell, and thenk I wol thi thank deserve!
 Have here my trowthe, and that thow shalt wel here."
 And went his wey, thenkyng on this matere,
 And how he best myghte hire biseche of grace,
 And fynde a tyme therto, and a place.
 For everi wight that hath an hous to founde
 Ne renneth naught the werk for to bygynne
 With rakel hond, but he wol bide a stounde,
 And sende his hertes line out fro withinne
 Aldirfirst his purpos for to wynne.
1070 Al this Pandare in his herte thoughte,
 And caste his werk ful wisely or he wroughte.
 But Troilus lay tho no lenger down,
 But up anon upon his stede bay,
 And in the feld he pleyde tho leoun;
 Wo was that Grek that with hym mette a-day!
 And in the town his manere tho forth ay
 So goodly was, and gat hym so in grace,
 That ecch hym loved that loked on his face.
 For he bicom the frendlieste wight,
1080 The gentilest, and ek the mooste fre,
 The thriftiest, and oon the beste knyght
 That in his tyme was or myghte be;
 Dede were his japes and his cruelte,
 His heighe port and his manere estraunge,
 And ecch of tho gan for a vertu chaunge.
 Now lat us stynte of Troilus a stounde,
 That fareth lik a man that hurt is soore,
 And is somdeel of akyngge of his wownde
 Ylissed wel, but heeled no deel moore,
1090 And, as an esy pacyent, the loore
 Abit of hym that gooth aboute his cure;
 And thus he dryeth forth his aventure.

---

Troilus and Criseyde

Book 2

 Owt of thise blake wawes for to saylle,
 O wynd, o wynd, the weder gynneth clere;
 For in this see the boot hath swych travaylle,
 Of my connyng, that unneth I it steere.
 This see clepe I the tempestous matere
 Of disespeir that Troilus was inne;
 But now of hope the kalendes bygynne.
 O lady myn, that called art Cleo,
 Thow be my speed fro this forth, and my Muse,
10 To ryme wel this book til I have do;
 Me nedeth here noon other art to use.
 Forwhi to every lovere I me excuse,
 That of no sentement I this endite,
 But out of Latyn in my tonge it write.
 Wherfore I nyl have neither thank ne blame
 Of al this werk, but prey yow mekely,
 Disblameth me if any word be lame,
 For as myn auctour seyde, so sey I.
 Ek though I speeke of love unfelyngly,
20 No wondre is, for it nothyng of newe is.
 A blynd man kan nat juggen wel in hewis.
 Ye knowe ek that in forme of speche is chaunge
 Withinne a thousand yeer, and wordes tho
 That hadden pris, now wonder nyce and straunge
 Us thinketh hem, and yet thei spake hem so,
 And spedde as wel in love as men now do;
 Ek for to wynnen love in sondry ages,
 In sondry londes, sondry ben usages.
 And forthi if it happe in any wyse,
30 That here be any lovere in this place
 That herkneth, as the storie wol devise,
 How Troilus com to his lady grace,
 And thenketh, "So nold I nat love purchace,"
 Or wondreth on his speche or his doynge,
 I noot; but it is me no wonderynge.
 For every wight which that to Rome went
 Halt nat o path, or alwey o manere;
 Ek in som lond were al the game shent,
 If that they ferde in love as men don here,
40 As thus, in opyn doyng or in chere,
 In visityng in forme, or seyde hire sawes;
 Forthi men seyn, "Ecch contree hath his lawes."
 Ek scarsly ben ther in this place thre
 That have in love seid lik, and don, in al;
 For to thi purpos this may liken the,
 And the right nought; yet al is seid or schal;
 Ek som men grave in tree, some in ston wal,
 As it bitit. But syn I have bigonne,
 Myn auctour shal I folwen, if I konne.
50 In May, that moder is of monthes glade,
 That fresshe floures, blew and white and rede,
 Ben quike agayn, that wynter dede made,
 And ful of bawme is fletyng every mede,
 Whan Phebus doth his bryghte bemes sprede
 Right in the white Bole, it so bitidde,
 As I shal synge, on Mayes day the thrydde,
 That Pandarus, for al his wise speche,
 Felt ek his part of loves shotes keene,
 That, koude he nevere so wel of lovyng preche,
60 It made his hewe a-day ful ofte greene.
 So shop it that hym fil that day a teene
 In love, for which in wo to bedde he wente,
 And made, er it was day, ful many a wente.
 The swalowe Proigne, with a sorowful lay,
 Whan morwen com, gan make hire waymentynge
 Whi she forshapen was; and evere lay
 Pandare abedde, half in a slomberynge,
 Til she so neigh hym made hire cheterynge
 How Tereus gan forth hire suster take,
70 That with the noyse of hire he gan awake,
 And gan to calle, and dresse hym up to ryse,
 Remembryng hym his erand was to doone
 From Troilus, and ek his grete emprise;
 And caste and knew in good plit was the moone
 To doon viage, and took his way ful soone
 Unto his neces palays ther biside.
 Now Janus, god of entree, thow hym gyde!
 Whan he was come unto his neces place,
 "Wher is my lady?" to hire folk quod he;
80 And they hym tolde, and he forth in gan pace,
 And fond two othere ladys sete and she,
 Withinne a paved parlour, and they thre
 Herden a mayden reden hem the geste
 Of the siege of Thebes, while hem leste.
 Quod Pandarus, "Madame, God yow see,
 With youre book and all the compaignie!"
 "Ey, uncle myn, welcome iwys," quod she;
 And up she roos, and by the hond in hye
 She took hym faste, and seyde, "This nyght thrie,
90 To goode mot it turne, of yow I mette."
 And with that word she doun on bench hym sette.
 "Ye, nece, yee shal faren wel the bet,
 If God wol, al this yeer," quod Pandarus;
 "But I am sory that I have yow let
 To herken of youre book ye preysen thus.
 For Goddes love, what seith it? telle it us!
 Is it of love? O, som good ye me leere!"
 "Uncle," quod she, "youre maistresse is nat here."
 With that thei gonnen laughe, and tho she seyde,
100 "This romaunce is of Thebes that we rede;
 And we han herd how that kyng Layus deyde
 Thorugh Edippus his sone, and al that dede;
 And here we stynten at thise lettres rede --
 How the bisshop, as the book kan telle,
 Amphiorax, fil thorugh the ground to helle."
 Quod Pandarus, "Al this knowe I myselve,
 And al th' assege of Thebes and the care;
 For herof ben ther maked bookes twelve.
 But lat be this, and telle me how ye fare.
110 Do wey youre barbe, and shew youre face bare;
 Do wey youre book, rys up, and lat us daunce,
 And lat us don to May som observaunce."
 "I! God forbede!" quod she. "Be ye mad?
 Is that a widewes lif, so God yow save?
 By God, ye maken me ryght soore adrad!
 Ye ben so wylde, it semeth as ye rave.
 It satte me wel bet ay in a cave
 To bidde and rede on holy seyntes lyves;
 Lat maydens gon to daunce, and yonge wyves."
120 "As evere thrive I," quod this Pandarus,
 "Yet koude I telle a thyng to doon yow pleye."
 "Now, uncle deere," quod she, "telle it us
 For Goddes love; is than th' assege aweye?
 I am of Grekes so fered that I deye."
 "Nay, nay," quod he, "as evere mote I thryve,
 It is a thing wel bet than swyche fyve."
 "Ye, holy God," quod she, "what thyng is that?
 What! Bet than swyche fyve? I! Nay, ywys!
 For al this world ne kan I reden what
130 It sholde ben; some jape I trowe is this;
 And but youreselven telle us what it is,
 My wit is for t' arede it al to leene.
 As help me God, I not nat what ye meene."
 "And I youre borugh, ne nevere shal, for me,
 This thyng be told to yow, as mote I thryve!"
 "And whi so, uncle myn? Whi so?" quod she.
 "By God," quod he, "that wol I telle as blyve!
 For proudder womman is ther noon on lyve,
 And ye it wiste, in al the town of Troye.
140 I jape nought, as evere have I joye!"
 Tho gan she wondren moore than biforn
 A thousand fold, and down hire eyghen caste;
 For nevere, sith the tyme that she was born,
 To knowe thyng desired she so faste;
 And with a syk she seyde hym atte laste,
 "Now, uncle myn, I nyl yow nought displese,
 Nor axen more that may do yow disese."
 So after this, with many wordes glade,
 And frendly tales, and with merie chiere,
150 Of this and that they pleide, and gonnen wade
 In many an unkouth, glad, and dep matere,
 As frendes doon whan thei ben mette yfere,
 Tyl she gan axen hym how Ector ferde,
 That was the townes wal and Grekes yerde.
 "Ful wel, I thonk it God," quod Pandarus,
 "Save in his arm he hath a litel wownde;
 And ek his fresshe brother Troilus,
 The wise, worthi Ector the secounde,
 In whom that alle vertu list habounde,
160 As alle trouthe and alle gentilesse,
 Wisdom, honour, fredom, and worthinesse."
 "In good feith, em," quod she, "that liketh me
 Thei faren wel; God save hem bothe two!
 For trewelich I holde it gret deynte
 A kynges sone in armes wel to do,
 And ben of goode condiciouns therto;
 For gret power and moral vertu here
 Is selde yseyn in o persone yfeere."
 "In good faith, that is soth," quod Pandarus.
170 "But, by my trouthe, the kyng hath sones tweye --
 That is to mene, Ector and Troilus --
 That certeynly, though that I sholde deye,
 Thei ben as voide of vices, dar I seye,
 As any men that lyven under the sonne:
 Hire myght is wyde yknowe, and what they konne.
 "Of Ector nedeth it namore for to telle:
 In al this world ther nys a bettre knyght
 Than he, that is of worthynesse welle;
 And he wel moore vertu hath than myght;
180 This knoweth many a wis and worthi wight.
 The same pris of Troilus I seye;
 God help me so, I knowe nat swiche tweye."
 "By God," quod she, "of Ector that is sooth.
 Of Troilus the same thyng trowe I;
 For, dredeles, men tellen that he doth
 In armes day by day so worthily,
 And bereth hym here at hom so gentily
 To everi wight, that alle pris hath he
 Of hem that me were levest preysed be."
190 "Ye sey right sooth, ywys," quod Pandarus;
 "For yesterday, whoso had with hym ben,
 He myghte han wondred upon Troilus;
 For nevere yet so thikke a swarm of been
 Ne fleigh, as Grekes for hym gonne fleen,
 And thorugh the feld, in everi wightes eere,
 Ther nas no cry but `Troilus is there!'
 "Now here, now ther, he hunted hem so faste,
 Ther nas but Grekes blood -- and Troilus.
 Now hem he hurte, and hem al down he caste;
200 Ay wher he wente, it was arayed thus:
 He was hire deth, and sheld and lif for us,
 That, as that day, ther dorste non withstonde
 Whil that he held his blody swerd in honde.
 "Therto he is the frendlieste man
 Of gret estat that evere I saugh my lyve;
 And wher hym lest, best felawshipe kan
 To swich as hym thynketh able for to thryve."
 And with that word tho Pandarus, as blyve,
 He took his leve, and seyde, "I wol gon henne."
210 "Nay, blame have I, myn uncle," quod she thenne.
 "What aileth yow to be thus wery soone,
 And namelich of wommen? Wol ye so?
 Nay, sitteth down; by God, I have to doone
 With yow, to speke of wisdom er ye go."
 And everi wight that was aboute hem tho,
 That herde that, gan fer awey to stonde,
 Whil they two hadde al that hem liste in honde.
 Whan that hire tale al brought was to an ende,
 Of hire estat and of hire governaunce,
220 Quod Pandarus, "Now tyme is that I wende.
 But yet, I say, ariseth, lat us daunce,
 And cast youre widewes habit to mischaunce!
 What list yow thus youreself to disfigure,
 Sith yow is tid thus fair an aventure?"
 "A, wel bithought! For love of God," quod she,
 "Shal I nat witen what ye meene of this?"
 "No, this thing axeth leyser," tho quod he,
 "And eke me wolde muche greve, iwis,
 If I it tolde and ye it toke amys.
230 Yet were it bet my tonge for to stille
 Than seye a soth that were ayeyns youre wille.
 "For, nece, by the goddesse Mynerve,
 And Jupiter, that maketh the thondre rynge,
 And by the blisful Venus that I serve,
 Ye ben the womman in this world lyvynge --
 Withouten paramours, to my wyttynge --
 That I best love, and lothest am to greve;
 And that ye weten wel youreself, I leve."
 "Iwis, myn uncle," quod she, "grant mercy!
240 Youre frendshipe have I founden evere yit.
 I am to no man holden, trewely,
 So muche as yow, and have so litel quyt;
 And with the grace of God, emforth my wit,
 As in my gylt I shal yow nevere offende;
 And if I have er this, I wol amende.
 "But for the love of God I yow biseche,
 As ye ben he that I love moost and triste,
 Lat be to me youre fremde manere speche,
 And sey to me, youre nece, what yow liste."
250 And with that word hire uncle anoon hire kiste,
 And seyde, "Gladly, leve nece dere!
 Tak it for good, that I shal sey yow here."
 With that she gan hire eighen down to caste,
 And Pandarus to coghe gan a lite,
 And seyde, "Nece, alwey -- lo! -- to the laste,
 How so it be that som men hem delite
 With subtyl art hire tales for to endite,
 Yet for al that, in hire entencioun
 Hire tale is al for som conclusioun.
260 "And sithe th' ende is every tales strengthe,
 And this matere is so bihovely,
 What sholde I peynte or drawen it on lengthe
 To yow, that ben my frend so feythfully?"
 And with that word he gan right inwardly
 Byholden hire and loken on hire face,
 And seyde, "On swich a mirour goode grace!"
 Than thought he thus: "If I my tale endite
 Aught harde, or make a proces any whyle,
 She shal no savour have therin but lite,
270 And trowe I wolde hire in my wil bigyle;
 For tendre wittes wenen al be wyle
 Theras thei kan nought pleynly understonde;
 Forthi hire wit to serven wol I fonde" --
 And loked on hire in a bysi wyse,
 And she was war that he byheld hire so,
 And seyde, "Lord! so faste ye m' avise!
 Sey ye me nevere er now? What sey ye, no?"
 "Yis, yys," quod he, "and bet wol er I go!
 But be my trouthe, I thoughte now if ye
280 Be fortunat, for now men shal it se.
 "For to every wight som goodly aventure
 Som tyme is shape, if he it kan receyven;
 But if he wol take of it no cure,
 Whan that it commeth, but wilfully it weyven,
 Lo, neyther cas ne fortune hym deceyven,
 But ryght his verray slouthe and wrecchednesse;
 And swich a wight is for to blame, I gesse.
 "Good aventure, O beele nece, have ye
 Ful lightly founden, and ye konne it take;
290 And for the love of God, and ek of me,
 Cache it anon, lest aventure slake!
 What sholde I lenger proces of it make?
 Yif me youre hond, for in this world is noon --
 If that yow list -- a wight so wel bygon.
 "And sith I speke of good entencioun,
 As I to yow have told wel herebyforn,
 And love as wel youre honour and renoun
 As creature in al this world yborn,
 By alle the othes that I have yow sworn,
300 And ye be wrooth therfore, or wene I lye,
 Ne shal I nevere sen yow eft with ye.
 "Beth naught agast, ne quaketh naught! Wherto?
 Ne chaungeth naught for fere so youre hewe!
 For hardely the werst of this is do;
 And though my tale as now be to yow newe,
 Yet trist alwey ye shal me fynde trewe;
 And were it thyng that me thoughte unsittynge,
 To yow wolde I no swiche tales brynge."
 "Now, good em, for Goddes love, I preye,"
310 Quod she, "come of, and telle me what it is.
 For both I am agast what ye wol seye,
 And ek me longeth it to wite, ywis;
 For whethir it be wel or be amys,
 Say on, lat me nat in this feere dwelle."
 "So wol I doon; now herkeneth! I shall telle:
 "Now, nece myn, the kynges deere sone,
 The goode, wise, worthi, fresshe, and free,
 Which alwey for to don wel is his wone,
 The noble Troilus, so loveth the,
320 That, but ye helpe, it wol his bane be.
 Lo, here is al! What sholde I moore seye?
 Doth what yow lest to make hym lyve or deye.
 "But if ye late hym deyen, I wol sterve --
 Have here my trouthe, nece, I nyl nat lyen --
 Al sholde I with this knyf my throte kerve."
 With that the teris breste out of his yen,
 And seide, "If that ye don us bothe dyen
 Thus gilteles, than have ye fisshed fayre!
 What mende ye, though that we booth appaire?
330 "Allas, he which that is my lord so deere,
 That trewe man, that noble gentil knyght,
 That naught desireth but youre frendly cheere,
 I se hym dyen, ther he goth upryght,
 And hasteth hym with al his fulle myght
 For to ben slayn, if his fortune assente.
 Allas, that God yow swich a beaute sente!
 "If it be so that ye so cruel be
 That of his deth yow liste nought to recche,
 That is so trewe and worthi, as ye se,
340 Namoore than of a japer or a wrecche --
 If ye be swich, youre beaute may nat strecche
 To make amendes of so cruel a dede;
 Avysement is good byfore the nede.
 "Wo worth the faire gemme vertulees!
 Wo worth that herbe also that dooth no boote!
 Wo worth that beaute that is routheles!
 Wo worth that wight that tret ech undir foote!
 And ye, that ben of beaute crop and roote,
 If therwithal in yow ther be no routhe,
350 Than is it harm ye lyven, by my trouthe!
 "And also think wel that this is no gaude;
 For me were levere thow and I and he
 Were hanged, than I sholde ben his baude,
 As heigh as men myghte on us alle ysee!
 I am thyn em; the shame were to me,
 As wel as the, if that I sholde assente
 Thorugh myn abet that he thyn honour shente.
 "Now understond, for I yow nought requere
 To bynde yow to hym thorugh no byheste,
360 But only that ye make hym bettre chiere
 Than ye han doon er this, and moore feste,
 So that his lif be saved atte leeste;
 This al and som, and pleynly, oure entente.
 God help me so, I nevere other mente!
 "Lo, this requeste is naught but skylle, ywys,
 Ne doute of resoun, pardee, is ther noon.
 I sette the worste, that ye dreden this:
 Men wolde wondren sen hym come or goon.
 Ther-ayeins answere I thus anoon,
370 That every wight, but he be fool of kynde,
 Wol deme it love of frendshipe in his mynde.
 "What, who wol demen, though he se a man
 To temple go, that he th' ymages eteth.
 Thenk ek how wel and wisely that he kan
 Governe hymself, that he no thyng foryeteth,
 That where he cometh he pris and thank hym geteth.
 And ek therto, he shal come here so selde,
 What fors were it though al the town byhelde?
 "Swych love of frendes regneth al this town;
380 And wre yow in that mantel evere moo,
 And God so wys be my savacioun,
 As I have seyd, youre beste is to do soo.
 But alwey, goode nece, to stynte his woo,
 So lat youre daunger sucred ben a lite,
 That of his deth ye be naught for to wite."
 Criseyde, which that herde hym in this wise,
 Thoughte, "I shal felen what he meneth, ywis."
 "Now em," quod she, "what wolde ye devise?
 What is youre reed I sholde don of this?"
390 "That is wel seyd," quod he. "Certein, best is
 That ye hym love ayeyn for his lovynge,
 As love for love is skilful guerdonynge.
 "Thenk ek how elde wasteth every houre
 In ech of yow a partie of beautee;
 And therfore er that age the devoure,
 Go love; for old, ther wol no wight of the.
 Lat this proverbe a loore unto yow be:
 To late ywar, quod Beaute, whan it paste;
 And Elde daunteth Daunger at the laste.
400 "The kynges fool is wont to crien loude,
 Whan that hym thinketh a womman berth hire hye,
 `So longe mote ye lyve, and alle proude,
 Til crowes feet be growe under youre ye,
 And sende yow than a myrour in to prye,
 In which that ye may se youre face a morwe!'
 I bidde wisshe yow namore sorwe."
 With this he stynte, and caste adown the heed,
 And she began to breste a-wepe anoon,
 And seyde, "Allas, for wo! Why nere I deed?
410 For of this world the feyth is al agoon.
 Allas, what sholden straunge to me doon,
 Whan he that for my beste frend I wende
 Ret me to love, and sholde it me defende?
 "Allas! I wolde han trusted, douteles,
 That if that I, thorugh my dysaventure,
 Hadde loved outher hym or Achilles,
 Ector, or any mannes creature,
 Ye nolde han had no mercy ne mesure
 On me, but alwey had me in repreve.
420 This false world -- allas! -- who may it leve?
 "What, is this al the joye and al the feste?
 Is this youre reed? Is this my blisful cas?
 Is this the verray mede of youre byheeste?
 Is al this paynted proces seyd -- allas! --
 Right for this fyn? O lady myn, Pallas!
 Thow in this dredful cas for me purveye,
 For so astoned am I that I deye."
 Wyth that she gan ful sorwfully to syke.
 "A, may it be no bet?" quod Pandarus;
430 "By God, I shal namore come here this wyke,
 And God toforn, that am mystrusted thus!
 I se wel that ye sette lite of us,
 Or of oure deth! Allas, I woful wrecche!
 Might he yet lyve, of me is nought to recche.
 "O cruel god, O dispitouse Marte,
 O Furies thre of helle, on yow I crye!
 So lat me nevere out of this hous departe,
 If I mente harm or vilenye!
 But sith I se my lord mot nedes dye,
440 And I with hym, here I me shryve, and seye
 That wikkedly ye don us bothe deye.
 "But sith it liketh yow that I be ded,
 By Neptunus, that god is of the see,
 Fro this forth shal I nevere eten bred
 Til I myn owen herte blood may see;
 For certeyn I wol deye as soone as he."
 And up he sterte, and on his wey he raughte,
 Tyl she agayn hym by the lappe kaughte.
 Criseyde, which that wel neigh starf for feere,
450 So as she was the ferfulleste wight
 That myghte be, and herde ek with hire ere
 And saugh the sorwful ernest of the knyght,
 And in his preier ek saugh noon unryght,
 And for the harm that myghte ek fallen moore,
 She gan to rewe and dredde hire wonder soore,
 And thoughte thus: "Unhappes fallen thikke
 Alday for love, and in swych manere cas
 As men ben cruel in hemself and wikke;
 And if this man sle here hymself -- allas! --
460 In my presence, it wol be no solas.
 What men wolde of hit deme I kan nat seye;
 It nedeth me ful sleighly for to pleie."
 And with a sorowful sik she sayde thrie,
 "A, Lord! What me is tid a sory chaunce!
 For myn estat lith in a jupartie,
 And ek myn emes lif is in balaunce;
 But natheles, with Goddes governaunce,
 I shal so doon, myn honour shal I kepe,
 And ek his lif" -- and stynte for to wepe.
470 "Of harmes two, the lesse is for to chese;
 Yet have I levere maken hym good chere
 In honour, than myn emes lyf to lese.
 Ye seyn, ye nothyng elles me requere?"
 "No, wis," quod he, "myn owen nece dere."
 "Now wel," quod she, "and I wol doon my peyne;
 I shal myn herte ayeins my lust constreyne.
 "But that I nyl nat holden hym in honde,
 Ne love a man ne kan I naught ne may
 Ayeins my wyl, but elles wol I fonde,
480 Myn honour sauf, plese hym fro day to day.
 Therto nolde I nat ones han seyd nay,
 But that I drede, as in my fantasye;
 But cesse cause, ay cesseth maladie.
 "And here I make a protestacioun
 That in this proces if ye depper go,
 That certeynly, for no salvacioun
 Of yow, though that ye sterven bothe two,
 Though al the world on o day be my fo,
 Ne shal I nevere of hym han other routhe."
490 "I graunte wel," quod Pandare, "by my trowthe.
 "But may I truste wel to yow," quod he,
 "That of this thyng that ye han hight me here,
 Ye wole it holden trewely unto me?"
 "Ye, doutelees," quod she, "myn uncle deere."
 "Ne that I shal han cause in this matere,"
 Quod he, "to pleyne, or ofter yow to preche?"
 "Why, no, parde; what nedeth moore speche?"
 Tho fellen they in other tales glade,
 Tyl at the laste, "O good em," quod she tho,
500 "For his love, that us bothe made,
 Tel me how first ye wisten of his wo.
 Woot noon of it but ye?" He seyde, "No."
 "Kan he wel speke of love?" quod she; "I preye
 Tel me, for I the bet me shal purveye."
 Tho Pandarus a litel gan to smyle,
 And seyde, "By my trouthe, I shal yow telle.
 This other day, naught gon ful longe while,
 In-with the paleis gardyn, by a welle,
 Gan he and I wel half a day to dwelle,
510 Right for to speken of an ordinaunce,
 How we the Grekes myghten disavaunce.
 "Soon after that bigonne we to lepe,
 And casten with oure dartes to and fro,
 Tyl at the laste he seyde he wolde slepe,
 And on the gres adoun he leyde hym tho;
 And I afer gan romen to and fro,
 Til that I herde, as that I welk alone,
 How he bigan ful wofully to grone.
 "Tho gan I stalke hym softely byhynde,
520 And sikirly, the soothe for to seyne,
 As I kan clepe ayein now to my mynde,
 Right thus to Love he gan hym for to pleyne:
 He seyde, `Lord, have routhe upon my peyne,
 Al have I ben rebell in myn entente;
 Now, mea culpa, lord, I me repente!
 "`O god, that at thi disposicioun
 Ledest the fyn by juste purveiaunce
 Of every wight, my lowe confessioun
 Accepte in gree, and sende me swich penaunce
530 As liketh the, but from disesperaunce,
 That may my goost departe awey fro the,
 Thow be my sheld, for thi benignite.
 "`For certes, lord, so soore hath she me wounded,
 That stood in blak, with lokyng of hire eyen,
 That to myn hertes botme it is ysounded,
 Thorugh which I woot that I moot nedes deyen.
 This is the werste, I dar me nat bywreyen;
 And wel the hotter ben the gledes rede,
 That men hem wrien with asshen pale and dede.'
540 "Wyth that he smot his hed adown anon,
 And gan to motre, I noot what, trewely.
 And I with that gan stille awey to goon,
 And leet therof as nothing wist had I,
 And com ayein anon, and stood hym by,
 And seyde, `Awake, ye slepen al to longe!
 It semeth nat that love doth yow longe,
 "`That slepen so that no man may yow wake.
 Who sey evere or this so dul a man?'
 `Ye, frend,' quod he, `do ye youre hedes ake
550 For love, and lat me lyven as I kan.'
 But though that he for wo was pale and wan,
 Yet made he tho as fresshe a countenaunce
 As though he sholde have led the newe daunce.
 "This passed forth til now, this other day,
 It fel that I com romyng al allone
 Into his chaumbre, and fond how that he lay
 Upon his bed; but man so soore grone
 Ne herde I nevere, and what that was his mone
 Ne wist I nought; for, as I was comynge,
560 Al sodeynly he lefte his complaynynge.
 "Of which I took somwat suspecioun,
 And ner I com, and fond he wepte soore;
 And God so wys be my savacioun,
 As nevere of thyng hadde I no routhe moore;
 For neither with engyn, ne with no loore,
 Unnethes myghte I fro the deth hym kepe,
 That yet fele I myn herte for hym wepe.
 "And God woot, nevere sith that I was born
 Was I so besy no man for to preche,
570 Ne nevere was to wight so depe isworn,
 Or he me told who myghte ben his leche.
 But now to yow rehercen al his speche,
 Or alle his woful wordes for to sowne,
 Ne bid me naught, but ye wol se me swowne.
 "But for to save his lif, and elles nought,
 And to noon harm of yow, thus am I dryven;
 And for the love of God, that us hath wrought,
 Swich cheer hym dooth that he and I may lyven!
 Now have I plat to yow myn herte shryven,
580 And sith ye woot that myn entent is cleene,
 Take heede therof, for I non yvel meene.
 "And right good thrift, I prey to God, have ye,
 That han swich oon ykaught withouten net!
 And be ye wis as ye be fair to see,
 Wel in the ryng than is the ruby set.
 Ther were nevere two so wel ymet,
 Whan ye ben his al hool as he is youre;
 Ther myghty God graunte us see that houre!"
 "Nay, therof spak I nought, ha, ha!" quod she;
590 "As helpe me God, ye shenden every deel!"
 "O, mercy, dere nece," anon quod he,
 "What so I spak, I mente naught but wel,
 By Mars, the god that helmed is of steel!
 Now beth naught wroth, my blood, my nece dere."
 "Now wel," quod she, "foryeven be it here!"
 With this he took his leve, and hom he wente;
 And, Lord, he was glad and wel bygon!
 Criseyde aros, no lenger she ne stente,
 But streght into hire closet wente anon,
600 And set hire doun as stylle as any ston,
 And every word gan up and down to wynde
 That he had seyd, as it com hire to mynde,
 And wex somdel astoned in hire thought
 Right for the newe cas; but whan that she
 Was ful avysed, tho fond she right nought
 Of peril why she ought afered be.
 For man may love, of possibilite,
 A womman so, his herte may tobreste,
 And she naught love ayein, but if hire leste.
610 But as she sat allone and thoughte thus,
 Ascry aros at scarmuch al withoute,
 And men criden in the strete, "Se, Troilus
 Hath right now put to flighte the Grekes route!"
 With that gan al hire meyne for to shoute,
 "A, go we se! Cast up the yates wyde!
 For thorwgh this strete he moot to paleys ride;
 "For other wey is to the yate noon
 Of Dardanus, there opyn is the cheyne."
 With that com he and al his folk anoon
620 An esy pas rydyng, in routes tweyne,
 Right as his happy day was, sooth to seyne,
 For which, men seyn, may nought destourbed be
 That shal bityden of necessitee.
 This Troilus sat on his baye steede
 Al armed, save his hed, ful richely;
 And wownded was his hors, and gan to blede,
 On which he rood a pas ful softely.
 But swich a knyghtly sighte trewely
 As was on hym, was nought, withouten faille,
630 To loke on Mars, that god is of bataille.
 So lik a man of armes and a knyght
 He was to seen, fulfilled of heigh prowesse,
 For bothe he hadde a body and a myght
 To don that thing, as wel as hardynesse;
 And ek to seen hym in his gere hym dresse,
 So fressh, so yong, so weldy semed he,
 It was an heven upon hym for to see.
 His helm tohewen was in twenty places,
 That by a tyssew heng his bak byhynde;
640 His sheeld todasshed was with swerdes and maces,
 In which men myghte many an arwe fynde
 That thirled hadde horn and nerf and rynde;
 And ay the peple cryde, "Here cometh oure joye,
 And, next his brother, holder up of Troye!"
 For which he wex a litel reed for shame
 When he the peple upon hym herde cryen,
 That to byholde it was a noble game
 How sobrelich he caste down his yen.
 Criseyda gan al his chere aspien,
650 And leet it so softe in hire herte synke,
 That to hireself she seyde, "Who yaf me drynke?"
 For of hire owen thought she wex al reed,
 Remembryng hire right thus, "Lo, this is he
 Which that myn uncle swerith he moot be deed,
 But I on hym have mercy and pitee."
 And with that thought, for pure ashamed, she
 Gan in hire hed to pulle, and that as faste,
 Whil he and alle the peple forby paste,
 And gan to caste and rollen up and down
660 Withinne hire thought his excellent prowesse,
 And his estat, and also his renown,
 His wit, his shap, and ek his gentilesse;
 But moost hire favour was, for his distresse
 Was al for hire, and thoughte it was a routhe
 To sleen swich oon, if that he mente trouthe.
 Now myghte som envious jangle thus:
 "This was a sodeyn love; how myght it be
 That she so lightly loved Troilus
 Right for the firste syghte, ye, parde?"
670 Now whoso seith so, mote he nevere ythe!
 For every thing a gynnyng hath it nede
 Er al be wrought, withowten any drede.
 For I sey nought that she so sodeynly
 Yaf hym hire love, but that she gan enclyne
 To like hym first, and I have told yow whi;
 And after that, his manhod and his pyne
 Made love withinne hire for to myne,
 For which by proces and by good servyse
 He gat hire love, and in no sodeyn wyse.
680 And also blisful Venus, wel arrayed,
 Sat in hire seventhe hous of hevene tho,
 Disposed wel, and with aspectes payed,
 To helpe sely Troilus of his woo.
 And soth to seyne, she nas not al a foo
 To Troilus in his nativitee;
 God woot that wel the sonner spedde he.
 Now lat us stynte of Troilus a throwe,
 That rideth forth, and lat us torne faste
 Unto Criseyde, that heng hire hed ful lowe
690 Ther as she sat allone, and gan to caste
 Where on she wolde apoynte hire atte laste,
 If it so were hire em ne wolde cesse
 For Troilus upon hire for to presse.
 And, Lord! So she gan in hire thought argue
 In this matere of which I have yow told,
 And what to doone best were, and what eschue,
 That plited she ful ofte in many fold.
 Now was hire herte warm, now was it cold;
 And what she thoughte somwhat shal I write,
700 As to myn auctour listeth for t' endite.
 She thoughte wel that Troilus persone
 She knew by syghte, and ek his gentilesse,
 And thus she seyde, "Al were it nat to doone
 To graunte hym love, yet for his worthynesse
 It were honour with pley and with gladnesse
 In honestee with swich a lord to deele,
 For myn estat, and also for his heele.
 "Ek wel woot I my kynges sone is he,
 And sith he hath to se me swich delit,
710 If I wolde outreliche his sighte flee,
 Peraunter he myghte have me in dispit,
 Thorugh whicch I myghte stonde in worse plit.
 Now were I wis, me hate to purchace,
 Withouten need, ther I may stonde in grace?
 "In every thyng, I woot, ther lith mesure;
 For though a man forbede dronkenesse,
 He naught forbet that every creature
 Be drynkeles for alwey, as I gesse.
 Ek sith I woot for me is his destresse,
720 I ne aughte nat for that thing hym despise,
 Sith it is so he meneth in good wyse.
 "And ek I knowe of longe tyme agon
 His thewes goode, and that he is nat nyce;
 N' avantour, seith men, certein, he is noon;
 To wis is he to doon so gret a vice;
 Ne als I nyl hym nevere so cherice
 That he may make avaunt, by juste cause,
 He shal me nevere bynde in swich a clause.
 "Now sette a caas: the hardest is, ywys,
730 Men myghten demen that he loveth me.
 What dishonour were it unto me, this?
 May ich hym lette of that? Why, nay, parde!
 I knowe also, and alday heere and se,
 Men loven wommen al biside hire leve,
 And whan hem leste namore, lat hem byleve!
 "I thenke ek how he able is for to have
 Of al this noble town the thriftieste
 To ben his love, so she hire honour save.
 For out and out he is the worthieste,
740 Save only Ector, which that is the beste;
 And yet his lif al lith now in my cure.
 But swich is love, and ek myn aventure.
 "Ne me to love, a wonder is it nought;
 For wel woot I myself, so God me spede --
 Al wolde I that noon wiste of this thought --
 I am oon the faireste, out of drede,
 And goodlieste, who that taketh hede,
 And so men seyn, in al the town of Troie.
 What wonder is though he of me have joye?
750 "I am myn owene womman, wel at ese --
 I thank it God -- as after myn estat,
 Right yong, and stonde unteyd in lusty leese,
 Withouten jalousie or swich debat:
 Shal noon housbonde seyn to me `Chek mat!'
 For either they ben ful of jalousie,
 Or maisterfull, or loven novelrie.
 "What shal I doon? To what fyn lyve I thus?
 Shal I nat love, in cas if that me leste?
 What, pardieux! I am naught religious.
760 And though that I myn herte sette at reste
 Upon this knyght, that is the worthieste,
 And kepe alwey myn honour and my name,
 By alle right, it may do me no shame."
 But right as when the sonne shyneth brighte
 In March, that chaungeth ofte tyme his face,
 And that a cloude is put with wynd to flighte,
 Which oversprat the sonne as for a space,
 A cloudy thought gan thorugh hire soule pace,
 That overspradde hire brighte thoughtes alle,
770 So that for feere almost she gan to falle.
 That thought was this: "Allas! Syn I am free,
 Sholde I now love, and put in jupartie
 My sikernesse, and thrallen libertee?
 Allas, how dorst I thenken that folie?
 May I naught wel in other folk aspie
 Hire dredfull joye, hire constreinte, and hire peyne?
 Ther loveth noon, that she nath why to pleyne.
 "For love is yet the mooste stormy lyf,
 Right of hymself, that evere was bigonne;
780 For evere som mystrust or nice strif
 Ther is in love, som cloude is over that sonne.
 Therto we wrecched wommen nothing konne,
 Whan us is wo, but wepe and sitte and thinke;
 Oure wrecche is this, oure owen wo to drynke.
 "Also thise wikked tonges ben so prest
 To speke us harm; ek men ben so untrewe,
 That right anon as cessed is hire lest,
 So cesseth love, and forth to love a newe.
 But harm ydoon is doon, whoso it rewe:
790 For though thise men for love hem first torende,
 Ful sharp bygynnyng breketh ofte at ende.
 "How ofte tyme hath it yknowen be
 The tresoun that to wommen hath ben do!
 To what fyn is swich love I kan nat see,
 Or wher bycometh it, whan that it is ago.
 Ther is no wight that woot, I trowe so,
 Where it bycometh. Lo, no wight on it sporneth.
 That erst was nothing, into nought it torneth.
 "How bisy, if I love, ek most I be
800 To plesen hem that jangle of love, and dremen,
 And coye hem, that they seye noon harm of me!
 For though ther be no cause, yet hem semen
 Al be for harm that folk hire frendes quemen;
 And who may stoppen every wikked tonge,
 Or sown of belles whil that thei ben ronge?"
 And after that, hire thought gan for to clere,
 And seide, "He which that nothing undertaketh,
 Nothyng n' acheveth, be hym looth or deere."
 And with an other thought hire herte quaketh.
810 Than slepeth hope, and after drede awaketh.
 Now hoot, now cold; but thus, bitwixen tweye,
 She rist hire up, and went hire for to pleye.
 Adown the steyre anonright tho she wente
 Into the gardyn with hire neces thre,
 And up and down ther made many a wente --
 Flexippe, she, Tharbe, and Antigone --
 To pleyen that it joye was to see;
 And other of hire wommen, a gret route,
 Hire folowede in the gardyn al aboute.
820 This yerd was large, and rayled alle th' aleyes,
 And shadewed wel with blosmy bowes grene,
 And benched newe, and sonded alle the weyes,
 In which she walketh arm in arm bitwene,
 Til at the laste Antigone the shene
 Gan on a Troian song to singen cleere,
 That it an heven was hire vois to here.
 She seyde, "O Love, to whom I have and shal
 Ben humble subgit, trewe in myn entente,
 As I best kan, to yow, lord, yeve ich al
830 For everemo myn hertes lust to rente;
 For nevere yet thi grace no wight sente
 So blisful cause as me, my lif to lede
 In alle joie and seurte out of drede.
 "Ye, blisful god, han me so wel byset
 In love, iwys, that al that bereth lif
 Ymagynen ne kouth. how to be bet;
 For, lord, withouten jalousie or strif,
 I love oon which is moost ententif
 To serven wel, unweri or unfeyned,
840 That evere was, and leest with harm desteyned.
 "As he that is the welle of worthynesse,
 Of trouthe grownd, mirour of goodlihed,
 Of wit Apollo, stoon of sikernesse,
 Of vertu roote, of lust fynder and hed,
 Thorugh which is alle sorwe fro me ded --
 Iwis, I love hym best, so doth he me;
 Now good thrift have he, wherso that he be!
 "Whom shulde I thanken but yow, god of Love,
 Of al this blisse, in which to bathe I gynne?
850 And thanked be ye, lord, for that I love!
 This is the righte lif that I am inne,
 To flemen alle manere vice and synne:
 This dooth me so to vertu for t' entende,
 That day by day I in my wille amende.
 "And whoso seith that for to love is vice,
 Or thraldom, though he feele in it destresse,
 He outher is envyous, or right nyce,
 Or is unmyghty, for his shrewednesse,
 To loven; for swich manere folk, I gesse,
860 Defamen Love, as nothing of hym knowe.
 Thei speken, but thei benten nevere his bowe!
 "What is the sonne wers, of kynde right,
 Though that a man, for fieblesse of his yen,
 May nought endure on it to see for bright?
 Or love the wers, though wrecches on it crien?
 No wele is worth, that may no sorwe dryen.
 And forthi, who that hath an hed of verre,
 Fro cast of stones war hym in the werre!
 "But I with al myn herte and al my myght,
870 As I have seyd, wol love unto my laste
 My deere herte and al myn owen knyght,
 In which myn herte growen is so faste,
 And his in me, that it shal evere laste.
 Al dredde I first to love hym to bigynne,
 Now woot I wel, ther is no peril inne."
 And of hir song right with that word she stente,
 And therwithal, "Now nece," quod Cryseyde,
 "Who made this song now with so good entente?"
 Antygone answerde anoon and seyde,
880 "Madame, ywys, the goodlieste mayde
 Of gret estat in al the town of Troye,
 And let hire lif in moste honour and joye."
 "Forsothe, so it semeth by hire song,"
 Quod tho Criseyde, and gan therwith to sike,
 And seyde, "Lord, is ther swych blisse among
 Thise loveres, as they konne faire endite?"
 "Ye, wis," quod fresshe Antigone the white,
 "For alle the folk that han or ben on lyve
 Ne konne wel the blisse of love discryve.
890 "But wene ye that every wrecche woot
 The parfit blisse of love? Why, nay, iwys!
 They wenen all be love, if oon be hoot.
 Do wey, do wey, they woot no thyng of this!
 Men moste axe at seyntes if it is
 Aught fair in hevene (Why? For they kan telle),
 And axen fendes is it foul in helle."
 Criseyde unto that purpos naught answerde,
 But seyde, "Ywys, it wol be nyght as faste."
 But every word which that she of hire herde,
900 She gan to prenten in hire herte faste,
 And ay gan love hire lasse for t' agaste
 Than it dide erst, and synken in hire herte,
 That she wex somwhat able to converte.
 The dayes honour, and the hevenes ye,
 The nyghtes foo -- al this clepe I the sonne --
 Gan westren faste, and downward for to wrye,
 As he that hadde his dayes cours yronne,
 And white thynges wexen dymme and donne
 For lak of lyght, and sterres for t' apere,
910 That she and alle hire folk in went yfeere.
 So whan it liked hire to go to reste,
 And voided weren thei that voiden oughte,
 She seyde that to slepen wel hire leste.
 Hire wommen soone til hire bed hire broughte.
 Whan al was hust, than lay she stille and thoughte
 Of al this thing; the manere and the wise
 Reherce it nedeth nought, for ye ben wise.
 A nyghtyngale, upon a cedre grene,
 Under the chambre wal ther as she ley,
920 Ful loude song ayein the moone shene,
 Peraunter in his briddes wise a lay
 Of love, that made hire herte fressh and gay.
 That herkned she so longe in good entente,
 Til at the laste the dede slep hire hente.
 And as she slep, anonright tho hire mette
 How that an egle, fethered whit as bon,
 Under hire brest his longe clawes sette,
 And out hire herte he rente, and that anon,
 And dide his herte into hire brest to gon --
930 Of which she nought agroos, ne nothyng smerte --
 And forth he fleigh, with herte left for herte.
 Now lat hire slepe, and we oure tales holde
 Of Troilus, that is to paleis riden
 Fro the scarmuch of the which I tolde,
 And in his chaumbre sit and hath abiden
 Til two or thre of his messages yeden
 For Pandarus, and soughten hym ful faste,
 Til they him founde and broughte him at the laste.
 This Pandarus com lepyng in atones,
940 And seyde thus: "Who hath ben wel ibete
 To-day with swerdes and with slynge-stones,
 But Troilus, that hath caught hym an hete?"
 And gan to jape, and seyde, "Lord, so ye swete!
 But ris and lat us soupe and go to reste."
 And he answerde hym, "Do we as the leste."
 With al the haste goodly that they myghte
 They spedde hem fro the soper unto bedde;
 And every wight out at the dore hym dyghte,
 And where hym liste upon his wey him spedde.
950 But Troilus, that thoughte his herte bledde
 For wo, til that he herde som tydynge,
 He seyde, "Frend, shal I now wepe or synge?"
 Quod Pandarus, "Ly stylle and lat me slepe,
 And don thyn hood; thy nedes spedde be!
 And ches if thow wolt synge or daunce or lepe!
 At shorte wordes, thow shal trowen me:
 Sire, my nece wol do wel by the,
 And love the best, by God and by my trouthe,
 But lak of pursuyt make it in thi slouthe.
960 "For thus ferforth I have thi werk bigonne
 Fro day to day, til this day by the morwe
 Hire love of frendshipe have I to the wonne,
 And therto hath she leyd hire feyth to borwe.
 Algate a foot is hameled of thi sorwe!"
 What sholde I lenger sermoun of it holde?
 As ye han herd byfore, al he hym tolde.
 But right as floures, thorugh the cold of nyght
 Iclosed, stoupen on hire stalke lowe,
 Redressen hem ayein the sonne bright,
970 And spreden on hire kynde cours by rowe,
 Right so gan tho his eighen up to throwe
 This Troilus, and seyde, "O Venus deere,
 Thi myght, thi grace, yheried be it here!"
 And to Pandare he held up bothe his hondes,
 And seyde, "Lord, al thyn be that I have!
 For I am hool, al brosten ben my bondes.
 A thousand Troyes whoso that me yave,
 Ech after other, God so wys me save,
 Ne myghte me so gladen; lo, myn herte,
980 It spredeth so for joie it wol tosterte!
 "But, Lord, how shal I doon? How shal I lyven?
 Whan shal I next my deere herte see?
 How shal this longe tyme awey be dryven
 Til that thow be ayein at hire fro me?
 Thow maist answer, `Abid, abid,' but he
 That hangeth by the nekke, soth to seyne
 In gret disese abideth for the peyne."
 "Al esily, now, for the love of Marte,"
 Quod Pandarus, "for every thing hath tyme.
990 So longe abid til that the nyght departe,
 For also siker as thow list here by me,
 And God toforn, I wol be ther at pryme;
 And forthi, werk somwhat as I shal seye,
 Or on som other wight this charge leye.
 "For, pardee, God woot I have evere yit
 Ben redy the to serve, and to this nyght
 Have I naught feyned, but emforth my wit
 Don al thi lust, and shal with al my myght.
 Do now as I shal seyn, and far aright;
1000 And if thow nylt, wite al thiself thi care!
 On me is nought along thyn yvel fare.
 "I woot wel that thow wiser art than I
 A thousand fold, but if I were as thow,
 God help me so, as I wolde outrely
 Of myn owen hond write hire right now
 A lettre, in which I wolde hire tellen how
 I ferde amys, and hire biseche of routhe.
 Now help thiself, and leve it nought for slouthe!
 "And I myself wol therwith to hire gon;
1010 And whan thow woost that I am with hire there,
 Worth thow upon a courser right anon --
 Ye, hardily, right in thi beste gere --
 And ryd forth by the place, as nought ne were,
 And thow shalt fynde us, if I may, sittynge
 At som wyndow, into the strete lokynge.
 "And if the list, than maystow us salue;
 And upon me make thow thi countenaunce;
 But by thi lif, be war and faste eschue
 To tarien ought -- God shilde us fro meschaunce!
1020 Rid forth thi wey, and hold thi governaunce;
 And we shal speek of the somwhat, I trowe,
 Whan thow art gon, to don thyn eris glowe!
 "Towchyng thi lettre, thou art wys ynough.
 I woot thow nylt it dygneliche endite,
 As make it with thise argumentes tough;
 Ne scryvenyssh or craftyly thow it write;
 Biblotte it with thi teris ek a lite;
 And if thow write a goodly word al softe,
 Though it be good, reherce it nought to ofte.
1030 "For though the beste harpour upon lyve
 Wolde on the beste sowned joly harpe
 That evere was, with alle his fyngres fyve
 Touche ay o stryng, or ay o werbul harpe,
 Were his nayles poynted nevere so sharpe,
 It sholde maken every wight to dulle,
 To here his glee, and of his strokes fulle.
 "Ne jompre ek no discordant thyng yfeere,
 As thus, to usen termes of phisik
 In loves termes; hold of thi matere
1040 The forme alwey, and do that it be lik;
 For if a peyntour wolde peynte a pyk
 With asses feet, and hedde it as an ape,
 It cordeth naught, so were it but a jape."
 This counseil liked wel to Troilus,
 But, as a dredful lovere, he seyde this:
 "Allas, my deere brother Pandarus,
 I am ashamed for to write, ywys,
 Lest of myn innocence I seyde amys,
 Or that she nolde it for despit receyve;
1050 Than were I ded: ther myght it nothyng weyve."
 To that Pandare answered, "If the lest,
 Do that I seye, and lat me therwith gon;
 For by that Lord that formede est and west,
 I hope of it to brynge answere anon
 Of hire hond; and if that thow nylt noon,
 Lat be, and sory mote he ben his lyve
 Ayeins thi lust that helpeth the to thryve."
 Quod Troilus, "Depardieux, ich assente!
 Sith that the list, I wil arise and write;
1060 And blisful God prey ich with good entente,
 The viage, and the lettre I shal endite,
 So spede it; and thow, Minerva, the white,
 Yif thow me wit my lettre to devyse."
 And sette hym down, and wrot right in this wyse:
 First he gan hire his righte lady calle,
 His hertes lif, his lust, his sorwes leche,
 His blisse, and ek thise other termes alle
 That in swich cas thise loveres alle seche;
 And in ful humble wise, as in his speche,
1070 He gan hym recomaunde unto hire grace;
 To telle al how, it axeth muchel space.
 And after this ful lowely he hire preyde
 To be nought wroth, thogh he, of his folie,
 So hardy was to hire to write, and seyde
 That love it made, or elles most he die,
 And pitousli gan mercy for to crye;
 And after that he seyde -- and leigh ful loude --
 Hymself was litel worth, and lasse he koude;
 And that she sholde han his konnyng excused,
1080 That litel was, and ek he dredde hire soo;
 And his unworthynesse he ay acused;
 And after that than gan he telle his woo --
 But that was endeles, withouten hoo --
 And seyde he wolde in trouthe alwey hym holde;
 And radde it over, and gan the lettre folde.
 And with his salte teris gan he bathe
 The ruby in his signet, and it sette
 Upon the wex deliverliche and rathe.
 Therwith a thousand tymes er he lette
1090 He kiste tho the lettre that he shette,
 And seyde, "Lettre, a blisful destine
 The shapyn is. my lady shal the see!"
 This Pandare tok the lettre, and that bytyme
 A-morwe, and to his neces paleis sterte,
 And faste he swor that it was passed prime,
 And gan to jape, and seyde, "Ywys, myn herte,
 So fressh it is, although it sore smerte,
 I may naught slepe nevere a Mayes morwe;
 I have a joly wo, a lusty sorwe."
1100 Criseyde, whan that she hire uncle herde,
 With dredful herte, and desirous to here
 The cause of his comynge, thus answerde:
 "Now, by youre fey, myn uncle," quod she, "dere,
 What manere wyndes gydeth yow now here?
 Tel us youre joly wo and youre penaunce.
 How ferforth be ye put in loves daunce?"
 "By God," quod he, "I hoppe alwey byhynde!"
 And she to laughe, it thoughte hire herte brest.
 Quod Pandarus, "Loke alwey that ye fynde
1110 Game in myn hood; but herkneth, if yow lest!
 Ther is right now come into town a gest,
 A Greek espie, and telleth newe thinges,
 For which I come to telle yow tydynges.
 "Into the gardyn go we, and ye shal here,
 Al pryvely, of this a long sermoun."
 With that they wenten arm in arm yfeere
 Into the gardyn from the chaumbre down;
 And whan that he so fer was that the sown
 Of that he spak no man heren myghte,
1120 He seyde hire thus, and out the lettre plighte:
 "Lo, he that is al holy youres free
 Hym recomaundeth lowely to youre grace,
 And sente yow this lettre here by me.
 Avyseth yow on it, whan ye han space,
 And of som goodly answere yow purchace,
 Or, helpe me God, so pleynly for to seyne,
 He may nat longe lyven for his peyne."
 Ful dredfully tho gan she stonden stylle,
 And took it naught, but al hire humble chere
1130 Gan for to chaunge, and seyde, "Scrit ne bille,
 For love of God, that toucheth swich matere,
 Ne bryng me noon; and also, uncle deere,
 To myn estat have more reward, I preye,
 Than to his lust! What sholde I more seye?
 "And loketh now if this be resonable,
 And letteth nought, for favour ne for slouthe,
 To seyn a sooth; now were it covenable
 To myn estat, by God and by youre trouthe,
 To taken it, or to han of hym routhe,
1140 In harmyng of myself, or in repreve?
 Ber it ayein, for hym that ye on leve!"
 This Pandarus gan on hire for to stare,
 And seyde, "Now is this the grettest wondre
 That evere I seigh! Lat be this nyce fare!
 To dethe mot I smyten be with thondre,
 If for the citee which that stondeth yondre,
 Wolde I a lettre unto yow brynge or take
 To harm of yow! What list yow thus it make?
 "But thus ye faren, wel neigh alle and some,
1150 That he that most desireth yow to serve,
 Of hym ye recche leest wher he bycome,
 And whethir that he lyve or elles sterve.
 But for al that that ever I may deserve,
 Refuse it naught," quod he, and hente hire faste,
 And in hire bosom the lettre down he thraste,
 And seyde hire, "Now cast it awey anon,
 That folk may seen and gauren on us tweye."
 Quod she, "I kan abyde til they be gon";
 And gan to smyle, and seyde hym, "Em, I preye,
1160 Swich answere as yow list, youreself purveye,
 For trewely I nyl no lettre write."
 "No? than wol I," quod he, "so ye endite."
 Therwith she lough, and seyde, "Go we dyne."
 And he gan at hymself to jape faste,
 And seyde, "Nece, I have so gret a pyne
 For love, that everich other day I faste --"
 And gan his beste japes forth to caste,
 And made hire so to laughe at his folye,
 That she for laughter wende for to dye.
1170 And whan that she was comen into halle,
 "Now, em," quod she, "we wol go dyne anon."
 And gan some of hire wommen to hire calle,
 And streght into hire chambre gan she gon;
 But of hire besynesses this was on --
 Amonges othere thynges, out of drede --
 Ful pryvely this lettre for to rede;
 Avysed word by word in every lyne,
 And fond no lak, she thoughte he koude good,
 And up it putte, and wente hire in to dyne.
1180 But Pandarus, that in a studye stood,
 Er he was war, she took hym by the hood,
 And seyde, "Ye were caught er that ye wiste."
 "I vouche sauf," quod he. "Do what you liste."
 Tho wesshen they, and sette hem down, and ete;
 And after noon ful sleighly Pandarus
 Gan drawe hym to the wyndowe next the strete,
 And seyde, "Nece, who hath araied thus
 The yonder hous, that stant aforyeyn us?"
 "Which hous?" quod she, and gan for to byholde,
1190 And knew it wel, and whos it was hym tolde;
 And fillen forth in speche of thynges smale,
 And seten in the windowe bothe tweye.
 Whan Pandarus saugh tyme unto his tale,
 And saugh wel that hire folk were alle aweye,
 "Now, nece myn, tel on," quod he; "I seye,
 How liketh yow the lettre that ye woot?
 Kan he theron? For, by my trouthe, I noot."
 Therwith al rosy hewed tho wex she,
 And gan to homme, and seyde, "So I trowe."
1200 "Aquite hym wel, for Goddes love," quod he;
 "Myself to medes wol the lettre sowe."
 And held his hondes up, and sat on knowe;
 "Now, goode nece, be it nevere so lite,
 Yif me the labour it to sowe and plite."
 "Ye, for I kan so writen," quod she tho;
 "And ek I noot what I sholde to hym seye."
 "Nay, nece," quod Pandare, "sey nat so.
 Yet at the leeste thonketh hym, I preye,
 Of his good wille, and doth hym nat to deye.
1210 Now, for the love of me, my nece deere,
 Refuseth nat at this tid my prayere!"
 "Depardieux," quod she, "God leve al be wel!
 God help me so, this is the firste lettre
 That evere I wroot, ye, al or any del."
 And into a closet, for t' avise hire bettre,
 She wente allone, and gan hire herte unfettre
 Out of desdaynes prisoun but a lite,
 And sette hire down, and gan a lettre write,
 Of which to telle in short is myn entente
1220 Th' effect, as fer as I kan understonde.
 She thanked hym of al that he wel mente
 Towardes hire, but holden hym in honde
 She nolde nought, ne make hireselven bonde
 In love; but as his suster, hym to plese,
 She wolde fayn to doon his herte an ese.
 She shette it, and to Pandare in gan goon,
 Ther as he sat and loked into the strete,
 And down she sette hire by hym on a stoon
 Of jaspre, upon a quysshyn gold-ybete,
1230 And seyde, "As wisly help me God the grete,
 I nevere dide thing with more peyne
 Than writen this, to which ye me constreyne,"
 And took it hym. He thonked hire and seyde,
 "God woot, of thyng ful often looth bygonne
 Comth ende good; and nece myn, Criseyde,
 That ye to hym of hard now ben ywonne
 Oughte he be glad, by God and yonder sonne;
 For-whi men seith, `Impressiounes lighte
 Ful lightly ben ay redy to the flighte.'
1240 "But ye han played tirant neigh to longe,
 And hard was it youre herte for to grave.
 Now stynte, that ye no lenger on it honge,
 Al wolde ye the forme of daunger save,
 But hasteth you to doon hym joye have;
 For trusteth wel, to long ydoon hardnesse
 Causeth despit ful often for destresse."
 And right as they declamed this matere,
 Lo, Troilus, right at the stretes ende,
 Com rydyng with his tenthe som yfere,
1250 Al softely, and thiderward gan bende
 Ther as they sete, as was his way to wende
 To paleis-ward; and Pandare hym aspide,
 And seyde, "Nece, ysee who comth here ride!
 "O fle naught in (he seeth us, I suppose),
 Lest he may thynken that ye hym eschuwe."
 "Nay, nay," quod she, and wex as red as rose.
 With that he gan hire humbly to saluwe
 With dredful chere, and oft his hewes muwe;
 And up his look debonairly he caste,
1260 And bekked on Pandare, and forth he paste.
 God woot if he sat on his hors aright,
 Or goodly was biseyn, that ilke day!
 God woot wher he was lik a manly knyght!
 What sholde I drecche, or telle of his aray?
 Criseyde, which that alle thise thynges say,
 To telle in short, hire liked al in-fere,
 His persoun, his aray, his look, his chere,
 His goodly manere, and his gentilesse,
 So wel that nevere, sith that she was born,
1270 Ne hadde she swych routh of his destresse;
 And how so she hath hard ben here-byforn,
 To God hope I, she hath now kaught a thorn,
 She shal nat pulle it out this nexte wyke.
 God sende mo swich thornes on to pike!
 Pandare, which that stood hire faste by,
 Felte iren hoot, and he bygan to smyte,
 And seyde, "Nece, I pray yow hertely,
 Tel me that I shal axen yow a lite:
 A womman that were of his deth to wite,
1280 Withouten his gilt, but for hire lakked routhe,
 Were it wel doon?" Quod she, "Nay, by my trouthe!"
 "God help me so," quod he, "ye sey me soth.
 Ye felen wel youreself that I nought lye.
 Lo, yond he rit!" Quod she, "Ye, so he doth!"
 "Wel," quod Pandare, "as I have told yow thrie,
 Lat be youre nyce shame and youre folie,
 And spek with hym in esyng of his herte;
 Lat nycete nat do yow bothe smerte."
 But theron was to heven and to doone.
1290 Considered al thing it may nat be;
 And whi? For speche; and it were ek to soone
 To graunten hym so gret a libertee.
 For pleynly hire entente, as seyde she,
 Was for to love hym unwist, if she myghte,
 And guerdoun hym with nothing but with sighte.
 But Pandarus thought, "It shal nought be so,
 Yif that I may; this nyce opynyoun
 Shal nought be holden fully yeres two."
 What sholde I make of this a long sermoun?
1300 He moste assente on that conclusioun,
 As for the tyme; and whan that it was eve,
 And al was wel, he roos and tok his leve.
 And on his wey ful faste homward he spedde,
 And right for joye he felte his herte daunce;
 And Troilus he fond allone abedde,
 That lay, as do thise lovers, in a traunce
 Bitwixen hope and derk disesperaunce.
 But Pandarus, right at his in-comynge,
 He song, as who seyth, "Somwhat I brynge,"
1310 And seyde, "Who is in his bed so soone
 Iburied thus?" "It am I, frend," quod he.
 "Who, Troilus? Nay, help me so the moone,"
 Quod Pandarus, "thow shalt arise and see
 A charme that was sent right now to the,
 The which kan helen the of thyn accesse,
 If thow do forthwith al thi bisynesse."
 "Ye, thorugh the myght of God," quod Troilus,
 And Pandarus gan hym the lettre take,
 And seyde, "Parde, God hath holpen us!
1320 Have here a light, and loke on al this blake."
 But ofte gan the herte glade and quake
 Of Troilus, whil that he gan it rede,
 So as the wordes yave hym hope or drede.
 But finaly, he took al for the beste
 That she hym wroot, for somwhat he byheld
 On which hym thoughte he myghte his herte reste,
 Al covered she tho wordes under sheld.
 Thus to the more worthi part he held,
 That what for hope and Pandarus byheste,
1330 His grete wo foryede he at the leste.
 But as we may alday oureselven see,
 Thorugh more wode or col, the more fir,
 Right so encreese hope, of what it be,
 Therwith ful ofte encresseth ek desir;
 Or as an ook comth of a litil spir,
 So thorugh this lettre which that she hym sente
 Encrescen gan desir, of which he brente.
 Wherfore I seye alwey, that day and nyght
 This Troilus gan to desiren moore
1340 Thanne he did erst, thorugh hope, and did his myght
 To preessen on, as by Pandarus loore,
 And writen to hire of his sorwes soore.
 Fro day to day he leet it nought refreyde,
 That by Pandare he wroot somwhat or seyde;
 And dide also his other observaunces
 That til a lovere longeth in this cas;
 And after that thise dees torned on chaunces,
 So was he outher glad or seyde "Allas!"
 And held after his gistes ay his pas;
1350 And after swiche answeres as he hadde,
 So were his dayes sory outher gladde.
 But to Pandare alwey was his recours,
 And pitously gan ay tyl hym to pleyne,
 And hym bisoughte of reed and som socours.
 And Pandarus, that sey his woode peyne,
 Wex wel neigh ded for routhe, sooth to seyne,
 And bisily with al his herte caste
 Som of his wo to slen, and that as faste;
 And seyde, "Lord, and frend, and brother dere,
1360 God woot that thi disese doth me wo.
 But wiltow stynten al this woful cheere,
 And, by my trouthe, er it be dayes two,
 And God toforn, yet shal I shape it so,
 That thow shalt come into a certeyn place,
 There as thow mayst thiself hire preye of grace.
 "And certeynly -- I noot if thow it woost,
 But tho that ben expert in love it seye --
 It is oon of the thynges forthereth most,
 A man to han a layser for to preye,
1370 And siker place his wo for to bywreye;
 For in good herte it mot som routhe impresse,
 To here and see the giltlees in distresse.
 "Peraunter thynkestow: though it be so,
 That Kynde wolde don hire to bygynne
 To have a manere routhe upon my woo,
 Seyth Daunger, `Nay, thow shalt me nevere wynne!'
 So reulith hire hir hertes gost withinne,
 That though she bende, yeet she stant on roote;
 What in effect is this unto my boote?
1380 "Thenk here-ayeins: whan that the stordy ook,
 On which men hakketh ofte, for the nones,
 Receyved hath the happy fallyng strook,
 The greete sweigh doth it come al at ones,
 As don thise rokkes or thise milnestones;
 For swifter cours comth thyng that is of wighte,
 Whan it descendeth, than don thynges lighte.
 "And reed that boweth down for every blast,
 Ful lightly, cesse wynd, it wol aryse;
 But so nyl nought an ook, whan it is cast;
1390 It nedeth me nought the longe to forbise.
 Men shal rejoissen of a gret empryse
 Acheved wel, and stant withouten doute,
 Al han men ben the lenger theraboute.
 "But, Troilus, yet telle me, if the lest,
 A thing now which that I shal axen the:
 Which is thi brother that thow lovest best,
 As in thi verray hertes privetee?"
 "Iwis, my brother Deiphebus," quod he.
 "Now," quod Pandare, "er houres twyes twelve,
1400 He shal the ese, unwist of it hymselve.
 "Now lat m' alone, and werken as I may,"
 Quod he; and to Deiphebus wente he tho,
 Which hadde his lord and grete frend ben ay;
 Save Troilus, no man he loved so.
 To telle in short, withouten wordes mo,
 Quod Pandarus, "I pray yow that ye be
 Frend to a cause which that toucheth me."
 "Yis, parde," quod Deiphebus, "wel thow woost,
 In al that evere I may, and God tofore,
1410 Al nere it but for man I love moost,
 My brother Troilus; but sey wherfore
 It is. for sith that day that I was bore,
 I nas, ne nevere mo to ben I thynke,
 Ayeins a thing that myghte the forthynke."
 Pandare gan hym thanke, and to hym seyde,
 "Lo, sire, I have a lady in this town,
 That is my nece, and called is Criseyde,
 Which some men wolden don oppressioun,
 And wrongfully han hire possessioun;
1420 Wherfore I of youre lordship yow biseche
 To ben oure frend, withouten more speche."
 Deiphebus hym answerde, "O, is nat this,
 That thow spekest of to me thus straungely,
 Criseda, my frend?" He seyde, "Yis."
 "Than nedeth," quod Deiphebus, "hardyly,
 Namore to speke, for trusteth wel that I
 Wol be hire champioun with spore and yerde;
 I roughte nought though alle hire foos it herde.
 "But tel me how -- thow woost of this matere --
1430 It myghte best avaylen." "Now lat se,"
 Quod Pandarus; "if ye, my lord so dere,
 Wolden as now do this honour to me,
 To preyen hire to-morwe, lo, that she
 Come unto yow, hire pleyntes to devise,
 Hire adversaries wolde of it agrise.
 "And yif I more dorste preye as now,
 And chargen yow to han so gret travaille,
 To han some of youre bretheren here with yow,
 That myghten to hire cause bet availle,
1440 Than wot I wel she myghte nevere faille
 For to ben holpen, what at youre instaunce,
 What with hire other frendes governaunce."
 Deiphebus, which that comen was of kynde
 To alle honour and bounte to consente,
 Answerd, "It shal be don; and I kan fynde
 Yet grettere help to this in myn entente.
 What wiltow seyn if I for Eleyne sente
 To speke of this? I trowe it be the beste,
 For she may leden Paris as hire leste.
1450 "Of Ector, which that is my lord, my brother,
 It nedeth naught to preye hym frend to be;
 For I have herd hym, o tyme and ek oother,
 Speke of Cryseyde swich honour that he
 May seyn no bet, swich hap to hym hath she.
 It nedeth naught his helpes for to crave;
 He shal be swich, right as we wol hym have.
 "Spek thow thiself also to Troilus
 On my byhalve, and prey hym with us dyne."
 "Syre, al this shal be don," quod Pandarus,
1460 And took his leve, and nevere gan to fyne,
 But to his neces hous, as streyght as lyne,
 He com; and fond hire fro the mete arise,
 And sette hym down, and spak right in this wise:
 He seide, "O verray God, so have I ronne!
 Lo, nece myn, se ye nought how I swete?
 I not wheither ye the more thank me konne.
 Be ye naught war how false Poliphete
 Is now aboute eftsones for to plete,
 And brynge on yow advocacies newe?"
1470 "I, no!" quod she, and chaunged al hire hewe.
 "What is he more aboute, me to drecche
 And don me wrong? What shal I doon, allas?
 Yet of hymself nothing ne wolde I recche,
 Nere it for Antenor and Eneas,
 That ben his frendes in swich manere cas.
 But, for the love of God, myn uncle deere,
 No fors of that; lat hym han al yfeere,
 "Withouten that I have ynough for us."
 "Nay," quod Pandare, "it shal nothing be so.
1480 For I have ben right now at Deiphebus,
 At Ector, and myn oother lordes moo,
 And shortly maked ech of hem his foo,
 That, by my thrift, he shal it nevere wynne,
 For aught he kan, whan that so he bygynne."
 And as thei casten what was best to doone,
 Deiphebus, of his owen curteisie,
 Com hire to preye, in his propre persone,
 To holde hym on the morwe compaignie
 At dyner, which she nolde nought denye,
1490 But goodly gan to his preier obeye.
 He thonked hire, and went upon his weye.
 Whan this was don, this Pandare up anon,
 To telle in short, and forth gan for to wende
 To Troilus, as stille as any ston;
 And al this thyng he tolde hym, word and ende,
 And how that he Deiphebus gan to blende,
 And seyde hym, "Now is tyme, if that thow konne,
 To bere the wel tomorwe, and al is wonne.
 "Now spek, now prey, now pitously compleyne;
1500 Lat nought for nyce shame, or drede, or slouthe!
 Somtyme a man mot telle his owen peyne.
 Bileve it, and she shal han on the routhe:
 Thow shalt be saved by thi feyth, in trouthe.
 But wel woot I thow art now in drede,
 And what it is, I leye, I kan arede.
 "Thow thynkest now, `How sholde I don al this?
 For by my cheres mosten folk aspie
 That for hire love is that I fare amys;
 Yet hadde I levere unwist for sorwe dye.'
1510 Now thynk nat so, for thow dost gret folie;
 For I right now have founden o manere
 Of sleyghte, for to coveren al thi cheere.
 "Thow shalt gon over nyght, and that bylyve,
 Unto Deiphebus hous as the to pleye,
 Thi maladie awey the bet to dryve --
 For-whi thow semest sik, soth for to seye.
 Sone after that, down in thi bed the leye,
 And sey thow mayst no lenger up endure,
 And ly right there, and byd thyn aventure.
1520 "Sey that thi fevre is wont the for to take
 The same tyme, and lasten til a-morwe;
 And lat se now how wel thow kanst it make,
 For, parde, sik is he that is in sorwe.
 Go now, farwel! And Venus here to borwe,
 I hope, and thow this purpos holde ferme,
 Thi grace she shal fully ther conferme."
 Quod Troilus, "Iwis, thow nedeles
 Conseilest me that siklich I me feyne,
 For I am sik in ernest, douteles,
1530 So that wel neigh I sterve for the peyne."
 Quod Pandarus, "Thow shalt the bettre pleyne,
 And hast the lasse need to countrefete,
 For hym men demen hoot that men seen swete.
 "Lo, hold the at thi triste cloos, and I
 Shal wel the deer unto thi bowe dryve."
 Therwith he took his leve al softely,
 And Troilus to paleis wente blyve.
 So glad ne was he nevere in al his lyve,
 And to Pandarus reed gan al assente,
1540 And to Deiphebus hous at nyght he wente.
 What nedeth yow to tellen al the cheere
 That Deiphebus unto his brother made,
 Or his accesse, or his sikliche manere,
 How men gan hym with clothes for to lade
 Whan he was leyd, and how men wolde hym glade?
 But al for nought; he held forth ay the wyse
 That ye han herd Pandare er this devyse.
 But certayn is, er Troilus hym leyde,
 Deiphebus had hym preied over-nyght
1550 To ben a frend and helpyng to Criseyde.
 God woot that he it graunted anon-right,
 To ben hire fulle frend with al his myght.
 But swich a nede was to preye hym thenne,
 As for to bidde a wood man for to renne!
 The morwen com, and neighen gan the tyme
 Of meeltid, that the faire queene Eleyne
 Shoop hire to ben, an houre after the prime,
 With Deiphebus, to whom she nolde feyne;
 But as his suster, homly, soth to seyne,
1560 She com to dyner in hire pleyne entente.
 But God and Pandare wist al what this mente.
 Com ek Criseyde, al innocent of this,
 Antigone, hire suster Tarbe also.
 But fle we now prolixitee best is,
 For love of God, and lat us faste go
 Right to th' effect, withouten tales mo,
 Whi al this folk assembled in this place;
 And lat us of hire saluynges pace.
 Gret honour did hem Deiphebus, certeyn,
1570 And fedde hem wel with al that myghte like;
 But evere mo "Allas!" was his refreyn,
 "My goode brother Troilus, the syke,
 Lith yet" -- and therwithal he gan to sike;
 And after that, he peyned hym to glade
 Hem as he myghte, and cheere good he made.
 Compleyned ek Eleyne of his siknesse
 So feythfully that pite was to here,
 And every wight gan waxen for accesse
 A leche anon, and seyde, "In this manere
1580 Men curen folk." -- "This charme I wol yow leere."
 But ther sat oon, al list hire nought to teche,
 That thoughte, "Best koud I yet ben his leche."
 After compleynte, hym gonnen they to preyse,
 As folk don yet whan som wight hath bygonne
 To preise a man, and up with pris hym reise
 A thousand fold yet heigher than the sonne:
 "He is, he kan, that fewe lordes konne."
 And Pandarus, of that they wolde afferme,
 He naught forgat hire preisynge to conferme.
1590 Herde al this thyng Criseyde wel inough,
 And every word gan for to notifie;
 For which with sobre cheere hire herte lough.
 For who is that ne wolde hire glorifie,
 To mowen swich a knyght don lyve or dye?
 But al passe I, lest ye to longe dwelle;
 For for o fyn is al that evere I telle.
 The tyme com fro dyner for to ryse,
 And as hem aughte, arisen everichon.
 And gonne a while of this and that devise.
1600 But Pandarus brak al that speche anon,
 And seide to Deiphebus, "Wol ye gon,
 If it youre wille be, as I yow preyde,
 To speke here of the nedes of Criseyde?"
 Eleyne, which that by the hond hire held,
 Took first the tale, and seyde, "Go we blyve";
 And goodly on Criseyde she biheld,
 And seyde, "Joves lat hym nevere thryve
 That doth yow harm, and brynge hym soone of lyve,
 And yeve me sorwe, but he shal it rewe,
1610 If that I may, and alle folk be trewe!"
 "Tel thow thi neces cas," quod Deiphebus
 To Pandarus, "for thow kanst best it telle."
 "My lordes and my ladys, it stant thus:
 What sholde I lenger," quod he, "do yow dwelle?"
 He rong hem out a proces lik a belle
 Upon hire foo that highte Poliphete,
 So heynous that men myghten on it spete.
 Answerde of this ech werse of hem than other,
 And Poliphete they gonnen thus to warien:
1620 "Anhonged be swich oon, were he my brother!
 And so he shal, for it ne may nought varien!"
 What shold I lenger in this tale tarien?
 Pleynliche, alle at ones, they hire highten
 To ben hire help in al that evere they myghten.
 Spak than Eleyne, and seyde, "Pandarus,
 Woot ought my lord, my brother, this matere --
 I meene Ector -- or woot it Troilus?"
 He seyde, "Ye, but wole ye now me here?
 Me thynketh this, sith that Troilus is here,
1630 It were good, if that ye wolde assente,
 She tolde hireself hym al this er she wente.
 "For he wol have the more hir grief at herte,
 By cause, lo, that she a lady is.
 And, by youre leve, I wol but in right sterte
 And do yow wyte, and that anon, iwys,
 If that he slepe, or wol ought here of this."
 And in he lepte, and seyde hym in his ere,
 "God have thi soule, ibrought have I thi beere!"
 To smylen of this gan tho Troilus,
1640 And Pandarus, withouten rekenynge,
 Out wente anon to Eleyne and Deiphebus,
 And seyde hem, "So ther be no taryinge,
 Ne moore prees, he wol wel that ye brynge
 Criseda, my lady, that is here;
 And as he may enduren, he wol here.
 "But wel ye woot, the chaumbre is but lite,
 And fewe folk may lightly make it warm;
 Now loketh ye (for I wol have no wite
 To brynge in prees that myghte don hym harm,
1650 Or hym disesen, for my bettre arm)
 Wher it be bet she bide til eft-sonys;
 Now loketh ye that knowen what to doon is.
 "I sey for me, best is, as I kan knowe,
 That no wight in ne wente but ye tweye,
 But it were I, for I kan in a throwe
 Reherce hire cas unlik that she kan seye;
 And after this she may hym ones preye
 To ben good lord, in short, and take hire leve.
 This may nought muchel of his ese hym reve.
1660 "And ek, for she is straunge, he wol forbere
 His ese, which that hym thar nought for yow;
 Ek oother thing that toucheth nought to here
 He wol yow telle -- I woot it wel right now --
 That secret is, and for the townes prow."
 And they, that nothyng knewe of his entente,
 Withouten more, to Troilus in they wente.
 Eleyne, in al hire goodly softe wyse,
 Gan hym salue, and wommanly to pleye,
 And seyde, "Iwys, ye moste alweies arise!
1670 Now faire brother, beth al hool, I preye!"
 And gan hire arm right over his shulder leye,
 And hym with al hire wit to reconforte;
 As she best koude, she gan hym to disporte.
 So after this quod she, "We yow biseke,
 My deere brother Deiphebus and I,
 For love of God -- and so doth Pandare eke --
 To ben good lord and frend, right hertely,
 Unto Criseyde, which that certeynly
 Receyveth wrong, as woot weel here Pandare,
1680 That kan hire cas wel bet than I declare."
 This Pandarus gan newe his tong affile,
 And al hire cas reherce, and that anon.
 Whan it was seyd, soone after in a while,
 Quod Troilus, "As sone as I may gon,
 I wol right fayn with al my myght ben oon --
 Have God my trouthe -- hire cause to sustene."
 "Good thrift have ye!" quod Eleyne the queene.
 Quod Pandarus, "And it youre wille be
 That she may take hire leve, er that she go?"
1690 "O, elles God forbede it," tho quod he,
 "If that she vouche sauf for to do so."
 And with that word quod Troilus, "Ye two,
 Deiphebus and my suster lief and deere,
 To yow have I to speke of o matere,
 "To ben avysed by youre reed the bettre --"
 And fond, as hap was, at his beddes hed
 The copie of a tretys and a lettre
 That Ector hadde hym sent to axen red
 If swych a man was worthi to ben ded,
1700 Woot I nought who; but in a grisly wise
 He preyede hem anon on it avyse.
 Deiphebus gan this lettre for t' onfolde
 In ernest greet; so did Eleyne the queene;
 And romyng outward, faste it gonne byholde,
 Downward a steire, into an herber greene.
 This ilke thing they redden hem bitwene,
 And largely, the mountance of an houre,
 Thei gonne on it to reden and to poure.
 Now lat hem rede, and torne we anon
1710 To Pandarus, that gan ful faste prye
 That al was wel, and out he gan to gon
 Into the grete chaumbre, and that in hye,
 And seyde, "God save al this compaynye!
 Com, nece myn; my lady queene Eleyne
 Abideth yow, and ek my lordes tweyne.
 "Rys, take with yow youre nece Antigone,
 Or whom yow list; or no fors; hardyly
 The lesse prees, the bet; com forth with me,
 And loke that ye thonken humblely
1720 Hem alle thre, and whan ye may goodly
 Youre tyme se, taketh of hem youre leeve,
 Lest we to longe his restes hym byreeve."
 Al innocent of Pandarus entente,
 Quod tho Criseyde, "Go we, uncle deere";
 And arm in arm inward with hym she wente,
 Avysed wel hire wordes and hire cheere;
 And Pandarus, in ernestful manere,
 Seyde, "Alle folk, for Goddes love, I preye,
 Stynteth right here, and softely yow pleye.
1730 "Avyseth yow what folk ben hire withinne,
 And in what plit oon is, God hym amende!"
 And inward thus, "Ful softely bygynne,
 Nece, I conjure and heighly yow defende,
 On his half which that soule us alle sende,
 And in the vertu of corones tweyne,
 Sle naught this man, that hath for yow this peyne!
 "Fy on the devel! Thynk which oon he is,
 And in what plit he lith. com of anon!
 Thynk al swich taried tyde, but lost it nys.
1740 That wol ye bothe seyn, whan ye ben oon.
 Secoundely, ther yet devyneth noon
 Upon yow two; come of now, if ye konne!
 While folk is blent, lo, al the tyme is wonne.
 "In titeryng, and pursuyte, and delayes,
 The folk devyne at waggyng of a stree;
 And though ye wolde han after mirye dayes,
 Than dar ye naught. And whi? For she, and she
 Spak swych a word; thus loked he, and he!
 Las, tyme ilost! I dar nought with yow dele.
1750 Com of, therfore, and bryngeth hym to hele!"
 But now to yow, ye loveres that ben here,
 Was Troilus nought in a kankedort,
 That lay, and myghte whisprynge of hem here,
 And thoughte, "O Lord, right now renneth my sort
 Fully to deye, or han anon comfort!"
 And was the firste tyme he shulde hire preye
 Of love; O myghty God, what shal he seye?

---

Troilus and Criseyde

Book 3

 O blisful light of which the bemes clere
 Adorneth al the thridde heven faire!
 O sonnes lief, O Joves doughter deere,
 Plesance of love, O goodly debonaire,
 In gentil hertes ay redy to repaire!
 O veray cause of heele and of gladnesse,
 Iheryed be thy myght and thi goodnesse!
 In hevene and helle, in erthe and salte see
 Is felt thi myght, if that I wel descerne,
10 As man, brid, best, fissh, herbe, and grene tree
 Thee fele in tymes with vapour eterne.
 God loveth, and to love wol nought werne,
 And in this world no lyves creature
 Withouten love is worth, or may endure.
 Ye Joves first to thilke effectes glade,
 Thorugh which that thynges lyven alle and be,
 Comeveden, and amorous him made
 On mortal thyng, and as yow list, ay ye
 Yeve hym in love ese or adversitee,
20 And in a thousand formes down hym sente
 For love in erthe, and whom yow liste he hente.
 Ye fierse Mars apaisen of his ire,
 And as yow list, ye maken hertes digne;
 Algates hem that ye wol sette a-fyre,
 They dreden shame, and vices they resygne;
 Ye do hem corteys be, fresshe and benigne;
 And heighe or lowe, after a wight entendeth,
 The joies that he hath, youre myght it sendeth.
 Ye holden regne and hous in unitee;
30 Ye sothfast cause of frendship ben also;
 Ye knowe al thilke covered qualitee
 Of thynges, which that folk on wondren so,
 Whan they kan nought construe how it may jo
 She loveth hym, or whi he loveth here,
 As whi this fissh, and naught that, comth to were.
 Ye folk a lawe han set in universe,
 And this knowe I by hem that lovers be,
 That whoso stryveth with yow hath the werse.
 Now, lady bryght, for thi benignite,
40 At reverence of hem that serven the,
 Whos clerc I am, so techeth me devyse
 Som joye of that is felt in thi servyse.
 Ye in my naked herte sentement
 Inhielde, and do me shewe of thy swetnesse.
 Caliope, thi vois be now present,
 For now is nede: sestow nought my destresse,
 How I mot telle anonright the gladnesse
 Of Troilus, to Venus heryinge?
 To which gladnesse, who nede hath, God hym brynge!
50 Lay al this mene while Troilus,
 Recordyng his lesson in this manere:
 "Mafay," thoughte he, "thus wol I sey, and thus;
 Thus wol I pleyne unto my lady dere;
 That word is good, and this shal be my cheere;
 This nyl I nought foryeten in no wise."
 God leve hym werken as he kan devyse!
 And, Lord, so that his herte gan to quappe,
 Heryng hire come, and shorte for to sike!
 And Pandarus, that ledde hire by the lappe,
60 Com ner, and gan in at the curtyn pike,
 And seyde, "God do boot on alle syke!
 Se who is here yow comen to visite:
 Lo, here is she that is youre deth to wite."
 Therwith it semed as he wepte almost.
 "Ha, a," quod Troilus so reufully,
 "Wher me be wo, O myghty God, thow woost!
 Who is al ther? I se nought trewely."
 "Sire," quod Criseyde, "it is Pandare and I."
 "Ye, swete herte? Allas, I may nought rise,
70 To knele and do yow honour in som wyse."
 And dressed hym upward, and she right tho
 Gan bothe hire hondes softe upon hym leye.
 "O, for the love of God, do ye nought so
 To me," quod she, "I! What is this to seye?
 Sire, comen am I to yow for causes tweye:
 First, yow to thonke, and of youre lordshipe eke
 Continuance I wolde yow biseke."
 This Troilus, that herde his lady preye
 Of lordshipe hym, wax neither quyk ne ded,
80 Ne myghte o word for shame to it seye,
 Although men sholde smyten of his hed.
 But Lord, so he wex sodeynliche red,
 And sire, his lessoun, that he wende konne
 To preyen hire, is thorugh his wit ironne.
 Criseyde al this aspied wel ynough,
 For she was wis, and loved hym nevere the lasse,
 Al nere he malapert, or made it tough,
 Or was to bold, to synge a fool a masse.
 But whan his shame gan somwhat to passe,
90 His resons, as I may my rymes holde,
 I yow wol telle, as techen bokes olde.
 In chaunged vois, right for his verray drede,
 Which vois ek quook, and therto his manere
 Goodly abaist, and now his hewes rede,
 Now pale, unto Criseyde, his lady dere,
 With look down cast and humble iyolden chere,
 Lo, the alderfirste word that hym asterte
 Was, twyes, "Mercy, mercy, swete herte!"
 And stynte a while, and whan he myghte out brynge,
100 The nexte word was, "God woot, for I have,
 As ferforthly as I have had konnynge,
 Ben youres al, God so my soule save,
 And shal til that I, woful wight, be grave!
 And though I dar, ne kan, unto yow pleyne,
 Iwis, I suffre nought the lasse peyne.
 "Thus muche as now, O wommanliche wif,
 I may out brynge, and if this yow displese,
 That shal I wreke upon myn owen lif
 Right soone, I trowe, and do youre herte an ese,
110 If with my deth youre wreththe may apese.
 But syn that ye han herd me somwhat seye,
 Now recche I nevere how soone that I deye."
 Therwith his manly sorwe to biholde
 It myghte han mad an herte of stoon to rewe;
 And Pandare wep as he to water wolde,
 And poked evere his nece new and newe,
 And seyde, "Wo bygon ben hertes trewe!
 For love of God, make of this thing an ende,
 Or sle us both at ones er ye wende."
120 "I, what?" quod she, "by God and by my trouthe,
 I not nat what ye wilne that I seye."
 "I, what?" quod he, "That ye han on hym routhe,
 For Goddes love, and doth hym nought to deye!"
 "Now than thus," quod she, "I wolde hym preye
 To telle me the fyn of his entente.
 Yet wist I nevere wel what that he mente."
 "What that I mene, O swete herte deere?"
 Quod Troilus, "O goodly, fresshe free,
 That with the stremes of youre eyen cleere
130 Ye wolde somtyme frendly on me see,
 And thanne agreen that I may ben he,
 Withouten braunche of vice on any wise,
 In trouthe alwey to don yow my servise,
 "As to my lady right and chief resort,
 With al my wit and al my diligence;
 And I to han, right as yow list, comfort,
 Under yowre yerde, egal to myn offence,
 As deth, if that I breke youre defence;
 And that ye deigne me so muchel honoure
140 Me to comanden aught in any houre;
 "And I to ben youre -- verray, humble, trewe,
 Secret, and in my paynes pacient,
 And evere mo desiren fresshly newe
 To serve, and ben ylike diligent,
 And with good herte al holly youre talent
 Receyven wel, how sore that me smerte;
 Lo, this mene I, myn owen swete herte."
 Quod Pandarus, "Lo, here an hard requeste,
 And resonable, a lady for to werne!
150 Now, nece myn, by natal Joves feste,
 Were I a god, ye sholden sterve as yerne,
 That heren wel this man wol nothing yerne
 But youre honour, and sen hym almost sterve,
 And ben so loth to suffren hym yow serve."
 With that she gan hire eyen on hym caste
 Ful esily and ful debonairly,
 Avysyng hire, and hied nought to faste
 With nevere a word, but seyde hym softely,
 "Myn honour sauf, I wol wel trewely,
160 And in swich forme as he gan now devyse,
 Receyven hym fully to my servyse,
 "Bysechyng hym, for Goddes love, that he
 Wolde, in honour of trouthe and gentilesse,
 As I wel mene, ek menen wel to me,
 And myn honour with wit and bisynesse
 Ay kepe; and if I may don hym gladnesse,
 From hennesforth, iwys, I nyl nought feyne.
 Now beth al hool; no lenger ye ne pleyne.
 "But natheles, this warne I yow," quod she,
170 "A kynges sone although ye be, ywys,
 Ye shal namore han sovereignete
 Of me in love, than right in that cas is.
 N' y nyl forbere, if that ye don amys,
 To wratthe yow; and whil that ye me serve,
 Chericen yow right after ye disserve.
 "And shortly, deere herte and al my knyght,
 Beth glad, and draweth yow to lustinesse,
 And I shal trewely, with al my myght,
 Youre bittre tornen al into swetenesse.
180 If I be she that may yow do gladnesse,
 For every wo ye shal recovere a blisse" --
 And hym in armes took, and gan hym kisse.
 Fil Pandarus on knees, and up his eyen
 To heven threw, and held his hondes highe:
 "Immortal god," quod he, "that mayst nought deyen,
 Cupide I mene, of this mayst glorifie;
 And Venus, thow mayst maken melodie!
 Withouten hond, me semeth that in the towne,
 For this merveille ich here ech belle sowne.
190 "But ho! namore as now of this matere;
 For-whi this folk wol comen up anon,
 That han the lettre red; lo, I hem here.
 But I conjure the, Criseyde, anon,
 And to, thow Troilus, whan thow mayst goon,
 That at myn hous ye ben at my warnynge,
 For I ful well shal shape youre comynge;
 "And eseth there youre hertes right ynough;
 And lat se which of yow shal bere the belle
 To speke of love aright!" -- therwith he lough --
200 "For ther have ye a leiser for to telle."
 Quod Troilus, "How longe shal I dwelle,
 Er this be don?" Quod he, "Whan thow mayst ryse,
 This thyng shal be right as I yow devyse."
 With that Eleyne and also Deiphebus
 Tho comen upward, right at the steires ende;
 And Lord, so thanne gan gronen Troilus,
 His brother and his suster for to blende.
 Quod Pandarus, "It tyme is that we wende.
 Tak, nece myn, youre leve at alle thre,
210 And lat hem speke, and cometh forth with me."
 She took hire leve at hem ful thriftily,
 As she wel koude, and they hire reverence
 Unto the fulle diden, hardyly,
 And wonder wel speken, in hire absence,
 Of hire in preysing of hire excellence --
 Hire governaunce, hire wit, and hire manere
 Comendeden, it joie was to here.
 Now lat hire wende unto hire owen place,
 And torne we to Troilus ayein,
220 That gan ful lightly of the lettre pace
 That Deiphebus hadde in the gardyn seyn;
 And of Eleyne and hym he wolde feyn
 Delivered ben, and seyde that hym leste
 To slepe, and after tales have reste.
 Eleyne hym kiste, and took hire leve blyve,
 Deiphebus ek, and hom wente every wight;
 And Pandarus, as faste as he may dryve,
 To Troilus tho com, as lyne right,
 And on a paillet al that glade nyght
230 By Troilus he lay, with mery chere,
 To tale; and wel was hem they were yfeere.
 Whan every wight was voided but they two,
 And alle the dores weren faste yshette,
 To telle in short, withouten wordes mo,
 This Pandarus, withouten any lette,
 Up roos, and on his beddes syde hym sette,
 And gan to speken in a sobre wyse
 To Troilus, as I shal yow devyse:
 "Myn alderlevest lord, and brother deere,
240 God woot, and thow, that it sat me so soore,
 Whan I the saugh so langwisshyng to-yere
 For love, of which thi wo wax alwey moore,
 That I, with al my myght and al my loore,
 Have evere sithen don my bisynesse
 To brynge the to joye out of distresse,
 "And have it brought to swich plit as thow woost,
 So that thorugh me thow stondest now in weye
 To faren wel; I sey it for no bost,
 And wostow whi? For shame it is to seye:
250 For the have I bigonne a gamen pleye
 Which that I nevere do shal eft for other,
 Although he were a thousand fold my brother.
 "That is to seye, for the am I bicomen,
 Bitwixen game and ernest, swich a meene
 As maken wommen unto men to comen;
 Al sey I nought, thow wost wel what I meene.
 For the have I my nece, of vices cleene,
 So fully maad thi gentilesse triste,
 That al shal ben right as thiselven liste.
260 "But God, that al woot, take I to witnesse,
 That nevere I this for coveitise wroughte,
 But oonly for t' abregge that distresse
 For which wel neigh thow deidest, as me thoughte.
 But, goode brother, do now as the oughte,
 For Goddes love, and kep hire out of blame,
 Syn thow art wys, and save alwey hire name.
 "For wel thow woost, the name as yet of here
 Among the peeple, as who seyth, halwed is.
 For that man is unbore, I dar wel swere,
270 That evere wiste that she dide amys.
 But wo is me, that I, that cause al this,
 May thynken that she is my nece deere,
 And I hire em, and traitour ek yfeere!
 "And were it wist that I, thorugh myn engyn,
 Hadde in my nece yput this fantasie,
 To doon thi lust and holly to ben thyn,
 Whi, al the world upon it wolde crie,
 And seyn that I the werste trecherie
 Dide in this cas, that evere was bigonne,
280 And she forlost, and thow right nought ywonne.
 "Wherfore, er I wol ferther gon a pas,
 The preie ich eft, althogh thow shuldest deye,
 That privete go with us in this cas;
 That is to seyn, that thow us nevere wreye;
 And be nought wroth, though I the ofte preye
 To holden secree swich an heigh matere,
 For skilfull is, thow woost wel, my praiere.
 "And thynk what wo ther hath bitid er this,
 For makyng of avantes, as men rede;
290 And what meschaunce in this world yet ther is,
 Fro day to day, right for that wikked dede;
 For which thise wise clerkes that ben dede
 Han evere yet proverbed to us yonge,
 That `firste vertu is to kepe tonge.'
 "And nere it that I wilne as now t' abregge
 Diffusioun of speche, I koude almoost
 A thousand olde stories the allegge
 Of wommen lost through fals and foles bost.
 Proverbes kanst thiself ynowe and woost
300 Ayeins that vice, for to ben a labbe,
 Al seyde men soth as often as thei gabbe.
 "O tonge, allas, so often here-byforn
 Hath mad ful many a lady bright of hewe
 Seyd `Weilaway, the day that I was born!'
 And many a maydes sorwe for to newe;
 And for the more part, al is untrewe
 That men of yelpe, and it were brought to preve.
 Of kynde non avauntour is to leve.
 "Avauntour and a lyere, al is on;
310 As thus: I pose, a womman grante me
 Hire love, and seith that other wol she non,
 And I am sworn to holden it secree,
 And after I go telle it two or thre --
 Iwis, I am avauntour at the leeste,
 And lyere, for I breke my biheste.
 "Now loke thanne, if they be nought to blame,
 Swich manere folk -- what shal I clepe hem, what? --
 That hem avaunte of wommen, and by name,
 That nevere yet bihyghte hem this ne that,
320 Ne knewe hem more than myn olde hat!
 No wonder is, so God me sende hele,
 Though wommen dreden with us men to dele.
 "I sey nought this for no mistrust of yow,
 Ne for no wis-man, but for foles nyce,
 And for the harm that in the werld is now,
 As wel for folie ofte as for malice;
 For wel woot I, in wise folk that vice
 No womman drat, if she be wel avised;
 For wyse ben by foles harm chastised.
330 "But now to purpos; leve brother deere,
 Have al this thyng that I have seyd in mynde,
 And kep the clos, and be now of good cheere,
 For at thi day thow shalt me trewe fynde.
 I shal thi proces set in swych a kynde,
 And God toforn, that it shal the suffise,
 For it shal be right as thow wolt devyse.
 "For wel I woot, thow menest wel, parde;
 Therfore I dar this fully undertake.
 Thow woost ek what thi lady graunted the,
340 And day is set the chartres up to make.
 Have now good nyght, I may no lenger wake;
 And bid for me, syn thow art now in blysse,
 That God me sende deth or soone lisse."
 Who myghte tellen half the joie or feste
 Which that the soule of Troilus tho felte,
 Heryng th' effect of Pandarus byheste?
 His olde wo, that made his herte swelte,
 Gan tho for joie wasten and tomelte,
 And al the richesse of his sikes sore
350 At ones fledde; he felte of hem namore.
 But right so as thise holtes and thise hayis,
 That han in wynter dede ben and dreye,
 Revesten hem in grene whan that May is,
 Whan every lusty liketh best to pleye;
 Right in that selve wise, soth to seye,
 Wax sodeynliche his herte ful of joie,
 That gladder was ther nevere man in Troie.
 And gan his look on Pandarus up caste
 Ful sobrely, and frendly for to se,
360 And seyde, "Frend, in Aperil the laste --
 As wel thow woost, if it remembre the --
 How neigh the deth for wo thow fownde me,
 And how thow dedest al thi bisynesse
 To knowe of me the cause of my destresse.
 "Thow woost how longe ich it forbar to seye
 To the, that art the man that I best triste;
 And peril non was it to the bywreye,
 That wist I wel; but telle me, if the liste,
 Sith I so loth was that thiself it wiste,
370 How dorst I mo tellen of this matere,
 That quake now, and no wight may us here?
 "But natheles, by that God I the swere,
 That, as hym list, may al this world governe --
 And, if I lye, Achilles with his spere
 Myn herte cleve, al were my lif eterne,
 As I am mortal, if I late or yerne
 Wolde it bewreye, or dorst, or sholde konne,
 For al the good that God made under sonne --
 "That rather deye I wolde, and determyne,
380 As thynketh me, now stokked in prisoun,
 In wrecchidnesse, in filthe, and in vermyne,
 Caytif to cruel kyng Agamenoun;
 And this in all the temples of this town
 Upon the goddes alle, I wol the swere
 To-morwe day, if that it liketh here.
 "And that thow hast so muche ido for me
 That I ne may it nevere more disserve,
 This know I wel, al myghte I now for the
 A thousand tymes on a morwe sterve.
390 I kan namore, but that I wol the serve
 Right as thi sclave, whider so thow wende,
 For evere more, unto my lyves ende.
 "But here, with al myn herte, I the biseche
 That nevere in me thow deme swich folie
 As I shal seyn: me thoughte by thi speche
 That this which thow me dost for compaignie,
 I sholde wene it were a bauderye.
 I am nought wood, al if I lewed be!
 It is nought so, that woot I wel, parde!
400 "But he that gooth for gold or for ricchesse
 On swich message, calle hym what the list;
 And this that thow doost, calle it gentilesse,
 Compassioun, and felawship, and trist.
 Departe it so, for wyde-wher is wist
 How that ther is diversite requered
 Bytwixen thynges like, as I have lered.
 "And that thow knowe I thynke nought ne wene
 That this servise a shame be or jape,
 I have my faire suster Polixene,
410 Cassandre, Eleyne, or any of the frape --
 Be she nevere so fair or wel yshape,
 Tel me which thow wilt of everychone,
 To han for thyn, and lat me thanne allone.
 "But, sith thow hast don me this servyse
 My lif to save and for non hope of mede,
 So for the love of God, this grete emprise
 Perfourme it out, for now is moste nede;
 For heigh and lough, withowten any drede,
 I wol alwey thyn hestes alle kepe.
420 Have now good nyght, and lat us bothe slepe."
 Thus held hym ech of other wel apayed,
 That al the world ne myghte it bet amende;
 And on the morwe, whan they were arayed,
 Ech to his owen nedes gan entende.
 But Troilus, though as the fir he brende
 For sharp desir of hope and of plesaunce,
 He nought forgat his goode governaunce,
 But in hymself with manhod gan restreyne
 Ech racle dede and ech unbridled cheere,
430 That alle tho that lyven, soth to seyne,
 Ne sholde han wist, by word or by manere,
 What that he mente, as touchyng this matere.
 From every wight as fer as is the cloude
 He was, so wel dissimilen he koude.
 And al the while which that I yow devyse,
 This was his lif: with all his fulle myght,
 By day, he was in Martes heigh servyse --
 This is to seyn, in armes as a knyght;
 And for the more part, the longe nyght
440 He lay and thoughte how that he myghte serve
 His lady best, hire thonk for to deserve.
 Nil I naught swere, although he lay ful softe,
 That in his thought he nas somwhat disesed,
 Ne that he torned on his pilwes ofte,
 And wold of that hym missed han ben sesed.
 But in swich cas men is nought alwey plesed,
 For aught I woot, namore than was he;
 That kan I deme of possibilitee.
 But certeyn is, to purpos for to go,
450 That in this while, as writen is in geeste,
 He say his lady somtyme, and also
 She with hym spak, whan that she dorst or leste;
 And by hire bothe avys, as was the beste,
 Apoynteden full warly in this nede,
 So as they durste, how they wolde procede.
 But it was spoken in so short a wise,
 In swich await alwey, and in swich feere,
 Lest any wight devynen or devyse
 Wolde of hem two, or to it laye an ere,
460 That al this world so leef to hem ne were
 As that Cupide wolde hem grace sende
 To maken of hire speche aright an ende.
 But thilke litel that they spake or wroughte,
 His wise goost took ay of al swych heede,
 It semed hire he wiste what she thoughte
 Withouten word, so that it was no nede
 To bidde hym ought to doon, or ought forbeede;
 For which she thought that love, al come it late,
 Of alle joie hadde opned hire the yate.
470 And shortly of this proces for to pace,
 So wel his werk and wordes he bisette,
 That he so ful stood in his lady grace,
 That twenty thousand tymes, er she lette,
 She thonked God that evere she with hym mette.
 So koude he hym governe in swich servyse,
 That al the world ne myght it bet devyse.
 For whi she fond hym so discret in al,
 So secret, and of swich obeisaunce,
 That wel she felte he was to hire a wal
480 Of stiel, and sheld from every displesaunce;
 That to ben in his goode governaunce,
 So wis he was, she was namore afered --
 I mene, as fer as oughte ben requered.
 And Pandarus, to quike alwey the fir,
 Was evere ylike prest and diligent;
 To ese his frend was set al his desir.
 He shof ay on, he to and fro was sent;
 He lettres bar whan Troilus was absent;
 That nevere man, as in his frendes nede,
490 Ne bar hym bet than he, withouten drede.
 But now, paraunter, som man wayten wolde
 That every word, or soonde, or look, or cheere
 Of Troilus that I rehercen sholde,
 In al this while unto his lady deere --
 I trowe it were a long thyng for to here --
 Or of what wight that stant in swich disjoynte,
 His wordes alle, or every look, to poynte.
 For sothe, I have naught herd it don er this
 In story non, ne no man here, I wene;
500 And though I wolde, I koude nought, ywys;
 For ther was som epistel hem bitwene,
 That wolde, as seyth myn autour, wel contene
 Neigh half this book, of which hym liste nought write.
 How sholde I thanne a lyne of it endite?
 But to the grete effect: than sey I thus,
 That stondyng in concord and in quiete,
 Thise ilke two, Criseyde and Troilus,
 As I have told, and in this tyme swete --
 Save only often myghte they nought mete,
510 Ne leiser have hire speches to fulfelle --
 That it bifel right as I shal yow telle:
 That Pandarus, that evere dide his myght
 Right for the fyn that I shal speke of here,
 As for to bryngen to his hows som nyght
 His faire nece and Troilus yfere,
 Wheras at leiser al this heighe matere,
 Touchyng here love, were at the fulle upbounde,
 Hadde out of doute a tyme to it founde.
 For he with gret deliberacioun
520 Hadde every thyng that herto myght availle
 Forncast and put in execucioun,
 And neither left for cost ne for travaille.
 Come if hem list, hem sholde no thyng faille;
 And for to ben in ought aspied there,
 That, wiste he wel, an impossible were.
 Dredeles, it cler was in the wynd
 Of every pie and every lette-game;
 Now al is wel, for al the world is blynd
 In this matere, bothe fremde and tame.
530 This tymbur is al redy up to frame;
 Us lakketh nought but that we witen wolde
 A certeyn houre, in which she comen sholde.
 And Troilus, that al this purveiaunce
 Knew at the fulle, and waited on it ay,
 Hadde hereupon ek mad gret ordinaunce,
 And found his cause, and therto his aray,
 If that he were missed, nyght or day,
 Ther-while he was aboute this servyse,
 That he was gon to don his sacrifise,
540 And moste at swich a temple allone wake,
 Answered of Apollo for to be;
 And first to sen the holy laurer quake,
 Er that Apollo spak out of the tree,
 To telle hym next whan Grekes sholde flee --
 And forthy lette hym no man, God forbede,
 But prey Apollo helpen in this nede.
 Now is ther litel more for to doone,
 But Pandare up and, shortly for to seyne,
 Right sone upon the chaungynge of the moone,
550 Whan lightles is the world a nyght or tweyne,
 And that the wolken shop hym for to reyne,
 He streght o morwe unto his nece wente --
 Ye han wel herd the fyn of his entente.
 Whan he was com, he gan anon to pleye
 As he was wont, and of hymself to jape;
 And finaly he swor and gan hire seye,
 By this and that, she sholde hym nought escape,
 Ne lenger don hym after hire to cape;
 But certeynly she moste, by hire leve,
560 Come soupen in his hous with hym at eve.
 At which she lough, and gan hire faste excuse,
 And seyde, "It reyneth. lo, how sholde I gon?"
 "Lat be," quod he, "ne stant nought thus to muse.
 This moot be don! Ye shal be ther anon."
 So at the laste herof they fille aton,
 Or elles, softe he swor hire in hire ere,
 He nolde nevere comen ther she were.
 Soone after this, she to hym gan to rowne,
 And axed hym if Troilus were there.
570 He swor hire nay, for he was out of towne,
 And seyde, "Nece, I pose that he were;
 Yow thurste nevere han the more fere;
 For rather than men myghte hym ther aspie,
 Me were levere a thousand fold to dye."
 Nought list myn auctour fully to declare
 What that she thoughte whan he seyde so,
 That Troilus was out of towne yfare,
 As if he seyde therof soth or no;
 But that, withowten await, with hym to go,
580 She graunted hym, sith he hire that bisoughte,
 And, as his nece, obeyed as hire oughte.
 But natheles, yet gan she hym biseche,
 Although with hym to gon it was no fere,
 For to ben war of goosissh poeples speche,
 That dremen thynges whiche as nevere were,
 And wel avyse hym whom he broughte there;
 And seyde hym, "Em, syn I moste on yow triste,
 Loke al be wel, and do now as yow liste."
 He swor hire yis, by stokkes and by stones,
590 And by the goddes that in hevene dwelle,
 Or elles were hym levere, soule and bones,
 With Pluto kyng as depe ben in helle
 As Tantalus -- what sholde I more telle?
 Whan al was wel, he roos and took his leve,
 And she to soper com, whan it was eve,
 With a certein of hire owen men,
 And with hire faire nece Antigone,
 And other of hire wommen nyne or ten.
 But who was glad now, who, as trowe ye,
600 But Troilus, that stood and myght it se
 Thorughout a litel wyndow in a stewe,
 Ther he bishet syn mydnyght was in mewe,
 Unwist of every wight but of Pandare?
 But to the point: now whan that she was come,
 With alle joie and alle frendes fare
 Hire em anon in armes hath hire nome,
 And after to the soper, alle and some,
 Whan tyme was, ful softe they hem sette.
 God woot, ther was no deynte for to fette!
610 And after soper gonnen they to rise,
 At ese wel, with herte fresshe and glade;
 And wel was hym that koude best devyse
 To liken hire, or that hire laughen made:
 He song; she pleyde; he tolde tale of Wade.
 But at the laste, as every thyng hath ende,
 She took hire leve, and nedes wolde wende.
 But O Fortune, executrice of wierdes,
 O influences of thise hevenes hye!
 Soth is, that under God ye ben oure hierdes,
620 Though to us bestes ben the causez wrie.
 This mene I now: for she gan homward hye,
 But execut was al bisyde hire leve
 The goddes wil, for which she moste bleve.
 The bente moone with hire hornes pale,
 Saturne, and Jove, in Cancro joyned were,
 That swych a reyn from heven gan avale
 That every maner womman that was there
 Hadde of that smoky reyn a verray feere;
 At which Pandare tho lough, and seyde thenne,
630 "Now were it tyme a lady to gon henne!
 "But goode nece, if I myghte evere plese
 Yow any thyng, than prey ich yow," quod he,
 "To don myn herte as now so gret an ese
 As for to dwelle here al this nyght with me,
 For-whi this is youre owen hous, parde.
 For by my trouthe, I sey it nought a-game,
 To wende as now, it were to me a shame."
 Criseyde, which that koude as muche good
 As half a world, took hede of his preiere;
640 And syn it ron, and al was on a flod,
 She thoughte, "As good chep may I dwellen here,
 And graunte it gladly with a frendes chere,
 And have a thonk, as grucche and thanne abide;
 For hom to gon, it may nought wel bitide."
 "I wol," quod she, "myn uncle lief and deere;
 Syn that yow list, it skile is to be so.
 I am right glad with yow to dwellen here;
 I seyde but a-game I wolde go."
 "Iwys, graunt mercy, nece," quod he tho,
650 "Were it a game or no, soth for to telle,
 Now am I glad, syn that yow list to dwelle."
 Thus al is wel; but tho bigan aright
 The newe joie and al the feste agayn.
 But Pandarus, if goodly hadde he myght,
 He wolde han hyed hire to bedde fayn,
 And seyde, "Lord, this is an huge rayn!
 This were a weder for to slepen inne --
 And that I rede us soone to bygynne.
 "And nece, woot ye wher I wol yow leye,
660 For that we shul nat liggen far asonder,
 And for ye neither shullen, dar I seye,
 Heren noyse of reynes nor of thonder?
 By God, right in my litel closet yonder.
 And I wol in that outer hous allone
 Be wardein of youre wommen everichone.
 "And in this myddel chambre that ye se
 Shal youre wommen slepen, wel and softe;
 And there I seyde shal youreselven be;
 And if ye liggen wel to-nyght, com ofte,
670 And careth nought what weder is alofte.
 The wyn anon, and whan so that yow leste,
 So go we slepe: I trowe it be the beste."
 Ther nys no more, but hereafter soone,
 The voide dronke, and travers drawe anon,
 Gan every wight that hadde nought to done
 More in the place out of the chaumbre gon.
 And evere mo so sterneliche it ron,
 And blew therwith so wondirliche loude,
 That wel neigh no man heren other koude.
680 Tho Pandarus, hire em, right as hym oughte,
 With wommen swiche as were hire most aboute,
 Ful glad unto hire beddes syde hire broughte,
 And took his leve, and gan ful lowe loute,
 And seyde, "Here at this closet dore withoute,
 Right overthwart, youre wommen liggen alle,
 That whom yow list of hem ye may here calle."
 So whan that she was in the closet leyd,
 And alle hire wommen forth by ordinaunce
 Abedde weren, ther as I have seyd,
690 Ther was nomore to skippen nor to traunce,
 But boden go to bedde, with meschaunce,
 If any wight was steryng anywhere,
 And lat hem slepen that abedde were.
 But Pandarus, that wel koude ech a deel
 Th' olde daunce, and every point therinne,
 Whan that he sey that alle thyng was wel,
 He thought he wolde upon his werk bigynne,
 And gan the stuwe doore al softe unpynne;
 And stille as stoon, withouten lenger lette,
700 By Troilus adown right he hym sette,
 And shortly to the point right for to gon,
 Of al this werk he tolde hym word and ende,
 And seyde, "Make the redy right anon,
 For thow shalt into hevene blisse wende."
 "Now, blisful Venus, thow me grace sende!"
 Quod Troilus, "For nevere yet no nede
 Hadde ich er now, ne halvendel the drede."
 Quod Pandarus, "Ne drede the nevere a deel,
 For it shal be right as thow wolt desire;
710 So thryve I, this nyght shal I make it weel,
 Or casten al the gruwel in the fire."
 "Yet, blisful Venus, this nyght thow me enspire,"
 Quod Troilus, "As wys as I the serve,
 And evere bet and bet shal, til I sterve.
 "And if ich hadde, O Venus ful of myrthe,
 Aspectes badde of Mars or of Saturne,
 Or thow combust or let were in my birthe,
 Thy fader prey al thilke harm disturne
 Of grace, and that I glad ayein may turne,
720 For love of hym thow lovedest in the shawe --
 I meene Adoun, that with the boor was slawe.
 "O Jove ek, for the love of faire Europe,
 The which in forme of bole awey thow fette,
 Now help! O Mars, thow with thi blody cope,
 For love of Cipris, thow me nought ne lette!
 O Phebus, thynk whan Dane hireselven shette
 Under the bark, and laurer wax for drede;
 Yet for hire love, O help now at this nede!
 "Mercurie, for the love of Hierse eke,
730 For which Pallas was with Aglawros wroth,
 Now help! And ek Diane, I the biseke
 That this viage be nought to the looth!
 O fatal sustren which, er any cloth
 Me shapen was, my destine me sponne,
 So helpeth to this werk that is bygonne!"
 Quod Pandarus, "Thow wrecched mouses herte,
 Artow agast so that she wol the bite?
 Wy! Don this furred cloke upon thy sherte,
 And folwe me, for I wol have the wite.
740 But bid, and lat me gon biforn a lite."
 And with that word he gan undon a trappe,
 And Troilus he brought in by the lappe.
 The sterne wynd so loude gan to route
 That no wight oother noise myghte heere;
 And they that layen at the dore withoute,
 Ful sikerly they slepten alle yfere;
 And Pandarus, with a ful sobre cheere,
 Goth to the dore anon, withouten lette,
 Ther as they laye, and softely it shette.
750 And as he com ayeynward pryvely,
 His nece awook, and axed, "Who goth there?"
 "My dere nece," quod he, "it am I.
 Ne wondreth nought, ne have of it no fere."
 And ner he com and seyde hire in hire ere,
 "No word, for love of God, I yow biseche!
 Lat no wight risen and heren of oure speche."
 "What, which wey be ye comen, benedicite?"
 Quod she; "And how, unwist of hem alle?"
 "Here at this secre trappe-dore," quod he.
760 Quod tho Criseyde, "Lat me som wight calle!"
 "I! God forbede that it sholde falle,"
 Quod Pandarus, "that ye swich folye wroughte!
 They myghte demen thyng they nevere er thoughte.
 "It is nought good a slepyng hound to wake,
 Ne yeve a wight a cause to devyne:
 Youre wommen slepen alle, I undertake,
 So that, for hem, the hous men myghte myne,
 And slepen wollen til the sonne shyne.
 And whan my tale brought is to an ende,
770 Unwist, right as I com, so wol I wende.
 "Now, nece myn, ye shul wel understonde,"
 Quod he, "so as ye wommen demen alle,
 That for to holde in love a man in honde,
 And hym hire lief and deere herte calle,
 And maken hym an howve above a calle --
 I meene, as love another in this while --
 She doth hireself a shame and hym a gyle.
 "Now, wherby that I telle yow al this:
 Ye woot youreself, as wel as any wight,
780 How that youre love al fully graunted is
 To Troilus, the worthieste knyght,
 Oon of this world, and therto trouthe yplight,
 That, but it were on hym along, ye nolde
 Hym nevere falsen while ye lyven sholde.
 "Now stant it thus, that sith I fro yow wente,
 This Troilus, right platly for to seyn,
 Is thorugh a goter, by a pryve wente,
 Into my chaumbre come in al this reyn,
 Unwist of every manere wight, certeyn,
790 Save of myself, as wisly have I joye,
 And by that feith I shal Priam of Troie.
 "And he is come in swich peyne and distresse
 That, but he be al fully wood by this,
 He sodeynly mot falle into wodnesse,
 But if God helpe; and cause whi this is.
 He seith hym told is of a frend of his,
 How that ye sholden love oon hatte Horaste;
 For sorwe of which this nyght shal ben his laste."
 Criseyde, which that al this wonder herde,
800 Gan sodeynly aboute hire herte colde,
 And with a sik she sorwfully answerde,
 "Allas! I wende, whoso tales tolde,
 My deere herte wolde me nought holde
 So lightly fals! Allas, conceytes wronge,
 What harm they don! For now lyve I to longe!
 "Horaste! Allas, and falsen Troilus?
 I knowe hym nought, God helpe me so!" quod she.
 "Allas, what wikked spirit tolde hym thus?
 Now certes, em, tomorwe and I hym se,
810 I shal therof as ful excusen me,
 As evere dide womman, if hym like."
 And with that word she gan ful soore sike.
 "O God," quod she, "so worldly selynesse,
 Which clerkes callen fals felicitee,
 Imedled is with many a bitternesse!
 Ful angwissous than is, God woot," quod she,
 "Condicioun of veyn prosperitee:
 For either joies comen nought yfeere,
 Or elles no wight hath hem alwey here.
820 "O brotel wele of mannes joie unstable!
 With what wight so thow be, or how thow pleye,
 Either he woot that thow, joie, art muable,
 Or woot it nought; it mot ben oon of tweye.
 Now if he woot it nought, how may he seye
 That he hath verray joie and selynesse,
 That is of ignoraunce ay in derknesse?
 "Now if he woot that joie is transitorie,
 As every joye of worldly thyng mot flee,
 Than every tyme he that hath in memorie,
830 The drede of lesyng maketh hym that he
 May in no perfit selynesse be;
 And if to lese his joie he sette a myte,
 Than semeth it that joie is worth ful lite.
 "Wherfore I wol diffyne in this matere,
 That trewely, for aught I kan espie,
 Ther is no verray weele in this world heere.
 But O thow wikked serpent, jalousie,
 Thow mysbyleved envyous folie,
 Why hastow Troilus mad to me untriste,
840 That nevere yet agylte hym, that I wiste?"
 Quod Pandarus, "Thus fallen is this cas --"
 "Wy! Uncle myn," quod she, "who tolde hym this?
 Why doth my deere herte thus, allas?"
 "Ye woot, ye, nece myn," quod he, "what is.
 I hope al shal be wel that is amys,
 For ye may quenche al this, if that yow leste --
 And doth right so, for I holde it the beste."
 "So shal I do to-morwe, ywys," quod she,
 "And God toforn, so that it shal suffise."
850 "To-morwe? Allas, that were a fair!" quod he;
 "Nay, nay, it may nat stonden in this wise,
 For, nece myn, thus writen clerkes wise,
 That peril is with drecchyng in ydrawe;
 Nay, swiche abodes ben nought worth an hawe.
 "Nece, alle thyng hath tyme, I dar avowe;
 For whan a chaumbre afire is or an halle,
 Wel more nede is, it sodeynly rescowe
 Than to dispute and axe amonges alle
 How this candel in the strawe is falle.
860 A, benedicite! For al among that fare
 The harm is don, and fare-wel feldefare!
 "And nece myn -- ne take it naught agrief --
 If that ye suffre hym al nyght in this wo,
 God help me so, ye hadde hym nevere lief!
 That dar I seyn, now ther is but we two.
 But wel I woot that ye wol nat do so;
 Ye ben to wys to doon so gret folie,
 To putte his lif al nyght in jupertie."
 "Hadde I hym nevere lief? by God, I weene
870 Ye hadde nevere thyng so lief!" quod she.
 "Now by my thrift," quod he, "that shal be seene!
 For syn ye make this ensaumple of me,
 If ich al nyght wolde hym in sorwe se,
 For al the tresour in the town of Troie,
 I bidde God I nevere mote have joie.
 "Now loke thanne, if ye that ben his love
 Shul putte his lif al night in jupertie
 For thyng of nought, now by that God above,
 Naught oonly this delay comth of folie,
880 But of malice, if that I shal naught lie.
 What! Platly, and ye suffre hym in destresse,
 Ye neyther bounte don ne gentilesse."
 Quod tho Criseyde, "Wol ye don o thyng
 And ye therwith shal stynte al his disese?
 Have heere, and bereth hym this blewe ryng,
 For ther is nothyng myghte hym bettre plese,
 Save I myself, ne more hys herte apese;
 And sey my deere herte that his sorwe
 Is causeles; that shal be sene to-morwe."
890 "A ryng?" quod he, "Ye haselwodes shaken!
 Ye, nece myn, that ryng moste han a stoon
 That myghte dede men alyve maken;
 And swich a ryng trowe I that ye have non.
 Discrecioun out of youre hed is gon;
 That fele I now," quod he, "and that is routhe.
 O tyme ilost, wel maistow corsen slouthe!
 "Woot ye not wel that noble and heigh corage
 Ne sorweth nought, ne stynteth ek, for lite?
 But if a fool were in a jalous rage,
900 I nolde setten at his sorwe a myte,
 But feffe hym with a fewe wordes white
 Anothir day, whan that I myghte hym fynde;
 But this thyng stant al in another kynde.
 "This is so gentil and so tendre of herte
 That with his deth he wol his sorwes wreke;
 For trusteth wel, how sore that hym smerte,
 He wol to yow no jalous wordes speke.
 And forthi, nece, er that his herte breke,
 So speke youreself to hym of this matere,
910 For with o word ye may his herte stere.
 "Now have I told what peril he is inne,
 And his comynge unwist is to every wight;
 Ne, parde, harm may ther be non, ne synne:
 I wol myself be with yow al this nyght.
 Ye knowe ek how it is youre owen knyght,
 And that bi right ye moste upon hym triste,
 And I al prest to fecche hym whan yow liste."
 This accident so pitous was to here,
 And ek so like a sooth at prime face,
920 And Troilus hire knyght to hir so deere,
 His prive comyng, and the siker place,
 That though that she did hym as thanne a grace,
 Considered alle thynges as they stoode,
 No wonder is, syn she did al for goode.
 Criseyde answerde, "As wisly God at reste
 My soule brynge, as me is for hym wo!
 And em, iwis, fayn wolde I don the beste,
 If that ich hadde grace to do so;
 But whether that ye dwelle or for hym go,
930 I am, til God me bettre mynde sende,
 At dulcarnoun, right at my wittes ende."
 Quod Pandarus, "Yee, nece, wol ye here?
 Dulcarnoun called is `flemyng of wrecches':
 It semeth hard, for wrecches wol nought lere,
 For verray slouthe or other wilfull tecches;
 This seyd by hem that ben nought worth two fecches;
 But ye ben wis, and that we han on honde
 Nis neither hard, ne skilful to withstonde."
 "Than, em," quod she, "doth herof as yow list.
940 But er he com, I wil up first arise,
 And for the love of God, syn al my trist
 Is on yow two, and ye ben bothe wise,
 So werketh now in so discret a wise
 That I honour may have, and he plesaunce:
 For I am here al in youre governaunce."
 "That is wel seyd," quod he, "my nece deere.
 Ther good thrift on that wise gentil herte!
 But liggeth stille, and taketh hym right here --
 It nedeth nought no ferther for hym sterte.
950 And ech of yow ese otheres sorwes smerte,
 For love of God! And Venus, I the herye;
 For soone hope I we shul ben alle merye."
 This Troilus ful soone on knees hym sette
 Ful sobrely, right be hyre beddes hed,
 And in his beste wyse his lady grette.
 But Lord, so she wex sodeynliche red!
 Ne though men sholde smyten of hire hed,
 She kouth. nought a word aright out brynge
 So sodeynly, for his sodeyn comynge.
960 But Pandarus, that so wel koude feele
 In every thyng, to pleye anon bigan,
 And seyde, "Nece, se how this lord kan knele!
 Now for youre trouthe, se this gentil man!"
 And with that word he for a quysshen ran,
 And seyde, "Kneleth now, while that yow leste;
 There God youre hertes brynge soone at reste!"
 Kan I naught seyn, for she bad hym nought rise,
 If sorwe it putte out of hire remembraunce,
 Or elles that she took it in the wise
970 Of dewete, as for his observaunce;
 But wel fynde I she dede hym this plesaunce,
 That she hym kiste, although she siked sore,
 And bad hym sitte adown withouten more.
 Quod Pandarus, "Now wol ye wel bigynne.
 Now doth hym sitte, goode nece deere,
 Upon youre beddes syde al ther withinne,
 That ech of yow the bet may other heere."
 And with that word he drow hym to the feere,
 And took a light, and fond his contenaunce,
980 As for to looke upon an old romaunce.
 Criseyde, that was Troilus lady right,
 And cler stood on a ground of sikernesse,
 Al thoughte she hire servant and hire knyght
 Ne sholde of right non untrouthe in hire gesse,
 Yet natheles, considered his distresse,
 And that love is in cause of swich folie,
 Thus to hym spak she of his jalousie:
 "Lo, herte myn, as wolde the excellence
 Of love, ayeins the which that no man may --
990 Ne oughte ek -- goodly make resistence,
 And ek bycause I felte wel and say
 Youre grete trouthe and servise every day,
 And that youre herte al myn was, soth to seyne,
 This drof me for to rewe upon youre peyne.
 "And youre goodnesse have I founde alwey yit,
 Of which, my deere herte and al my knyght,
 I thonke it yow, as fer as I have wit,
 Al kan I nought as muche as it were right;
 And I, emforth my connyng and my might,
1000 Have and ay shal, how sore that me smerte,
 Ben to yow trewe and hool with al myn herte,
 "And dredeles, that shal be founde at preve.
 But, herte myn, what al this is to seyne
 Shal wel be told, so that ye nought yow greve,
 Though I to yow right on youreself compleyne,
 For therwith mene I fynaly the peyne
 That halt youre herte and myn in hevynesse
 Fully to slen, and every wrong redresse.
 "My goode myn, noot I for-why ne how
1010 That jalousie, allas, that wikked wyvere,
 Thus causeles is cropen into yow,
 The harm of which I wolde fayn delyvere.
 Allas, that he, al hool or of hym slyvere,
 Shuld han his refut in so digne a place;
 Ther Jove hym sone out of youre herte arace!
 "But O, thow Jove, O auctour of nature,
 Is this an honour to thi deyte,
 That folk ungiltif suffren hire injure,
 And who that giltif is, al quyt goth he?
1020 O, were it lefull for to pleyn on the,
 That undeserved suffrest jalousie,
 Of that I wolde upon the pleyne and crie!
 "Ek al my wo is this, that folk now usen
 To seyn right thus, `Ye, jalousie is love!'
 And wolde a busshel venym al excusen,
 For that o greyn of love is on it shove.
 But that woot heighe God that sit above,
 If it be likkere love, or hate, or grame;
 And after that, it oughte bere his name.
1030 "But certeyn is, som manere jalousie
 Is excusable more than som, iwys;
 As whan cause is, and som swich fantasie
 With piete so wel repressed is
 That it unnethe doth or seyth amys,
 But goodly drynketh up al his distresse --
 And that excuse I, for the gentilesse;
 "And som so ful of furie is and despit
 That it sourmounteth his repressioun.
 But herte myn, ye be nat in that plit,
1040 That thonke I God; for which youre passioun
 I wol nought calle it but illusioun
 Of habundaunce of love and besy cure,
 That doth youre herte this disese endure.
 "Of which I am right sory but nought wroth;
 But, for my devoir and youre hertes reste,
 Wherso yow list, by ordal or by oth,
 By sort, or in what wise so yow leste,
 For love of God, lat preve it for the beste;
 And if that I be giltif, do me deye!
1050 Allas, what myght I more don or seye?"
 With that a fewe brighte teris newe
 Owt of hire eighen fille, and thus she seyde,
 "Now God, thow woost, in thought ne dede untrewe
 To Troilus was nevere yet Criseyde."
 With that here heed down in the bed she leyde,
 And with the sheete it wreigh, and sighte soore,
 And held hire pees; nought o word spak she more.
 But now help God to quenchen al this sorwe!
 So hope I that he shal, for he best may.
1060 For I have seyn of a ful misty morwe
 Folowen ful ofte a myrie someris day;
 And after wynter foloweth grene May;
 Men sen alday, and reden ek in stories,
 That after sharpe shoures ben victories.
 This Troilus, whan he hire wordes herde,
 Have ye no care, hym liste nought to slepe;
 For it thoughte hym no strokes of a yerde
 To heere or seen Criseyde, his lady, wepe;
 But wel he felt aboute his herte crepe,
1070 For everi tere which that Criseyde asterte,
 The crampe of deth to streyne hym by the herte.
 And in his mynde he gan the tyme acorse
 That he com there, and that, that he was born;
 For now is wikke torned into worse,
 And al that labour he hath don byforn,
 He wende it lost; he thoughte he nas but lorn.
 "O Pandarus," thoughte he, "allas, thi wile
 Serveth of nought, so weylaway the while!"
 And therwithal he heng adown the heed,
1080 And fil on knees, and sorwfully he sighte.
 What myghte he seyn? He felte he nas but deed,
 For wroth was she that sholde his sorwes lighte.
 But natheles, whan that he speken myghte,
 Than seyde he thus, "God woot that of this game,
 Whan al is wist, than am I nought to blame."
 Therwith the sorwe so his herte shette
 That from his eyen fil there nought a tere,
 And every spirit his vigour in knette,
 So they astoned or oppressed were.
1090 The felyng of his sorwe, or of his fere,
 Or of aught elles, fled was out of towne;
 And down he fel al sodeynly a-swowne.
 This was no litel sorwe for to se;
 But al was hust, and Pandare up as faste;
 "O nece, pes, or we be lost!" quod he,
 "Beth naught agast!" But certeyn, at the laste,
 For this or that, he into bed hym caste,
 And seyde, "O thef, is this a mannes herte?"
 And of he rente al to his bare sherte,
1100 And seyde, "Nece, but ye helpe us now,
 Allas, youre owen Troilus is lorn!"
 "Iwis, so wolde I, and I wiste how,
 Ful fayn," quod she. "Allas, that I was born"!
 "Yee, nece, wol ye pullen out the thorn
 That stiketh in his herte?" quod Pandare.
 "Sey `Al foryeve,' and stynt is al this fare!"
 "Ye, that to me," quod she, "ful levere were
 Than al the good the sonne aboute gooth."
 And therwithal she swor hym in his ere,
1110 "Iwys, my deere herte, I am nought wroth,
 Have here my trouthe!" -- and many an other oth.
 "Now speke to me, for it am I, Criseyde!"
 But al for nought; yit myght he nought abreyde.
 Therwith his pous and paumes of his hondes
 They gan to frote, and wete his temples tweyne;
 And to deliveren hym fro bittre bondes
 She ofte hym kiste; and shortly for to seyne,
 Hym to revoken she did al hire peyne;
 And at the laste, he gan his breth to drawe,
1120 And of his swough sone after that adawe,
 And gan bet mynde and reson to hym take,
 But wonder soore he was abayst, iwis;
 And with a sik, whan he gan bet awake,
 He seyde, "O mercy, God, what thyng is this?"
 "Why do ye with youreselven thus amys?"
 Quod tho Criseyde, "Is this a mannes game?
 What, Troilus, wol ye do thus for shame?"
 And therwithal hire arm over hym she leyde,
 And al foryaf, and ofte tyme hym keste.
1130 He thonked hire, and to hire spak, and seyde
 As fil to purpos for his herte reste;
 And she to that answerde hym as hire leste,
 And with hire goodly wordes hym disporte
 She gan, and ofte his sorwes to comforte.
 Quod Pandarus, "For aught I kan aspien,
 This light, nor I, ne serven here of nought.
 Light is nought good for sike folkes yen!
 But, for the love of God, syn ye ben brought
 In thus good plit, lat now no hevy thought
1140 Ben hangyng in the hertes of yow tweye" --
 And bar the candel to the chymeneye.
 Soone after this, though it no nede were,
 Whan she swiche othes as hire leste devyse
 Hadde of hym take, hire thoughte tho no fere,
 Ne cause ek non to bidde hym thennes rise.
 Yet lasse thyng than othes may suffise
 In many a cas, for every wyght, I gesse,
 That loveth wel, meneth but gentilesse.
 But in effect she wolde wite anon
1150 Of what man, and ek wheer, and also why
 He jalous was, syn ther was cause non;
 And ek the sygne that he took it by,
 She badde hym that to telle hire bisily,
 Or elles, certeyn, she bar hym on honde
 That this was don of malice, hire to fonde.
 Withouten more, shortly for to seyne,
 He most obeye unto his lady heste;
 And for the lasse harm, he moste feyne.
 He seyde hire, whan she was at swich a feste,
1160 She myght on hym han loked at the leste --
 Noot I nought what, al deere ynough a rysshe,
 As he that nedes most a cause fisshe.
 And she answerde, "Swete, al were it so,
 What harm was that, syn I non yvel mene?
 For, by that God that bought us bothe two,
 In alle thyng is myn entente cleene.
 Swiche argumentes ne ben naught worth a beene.
 Wol ye the childissh jalous contrefete?
 Now were it worthi that ye were ybete."
1170 Tho Troilus gan sorwfully to sike --
 Lest she be wroth, hym thoughte his herte deyde --
 And seyde, "Allas, upon my sorwes sike
 Have mercy, swete herte myn, Criseyde!
 And if that in tho wordes that I seyde
 Be any wrong, I wol no more trespace.
 Doth what yow list; I am al in youre grace."
 And she answerde, "Of gilt misericorde!
 That is to seyn, that I foryeve al this;
 And evere more on this nyght yow recorde,
1180 And beth wel war ye do namore amys."
 "Nay, dere herte myn," quod he, "iwys!"
 "And now," quod she, "that I have don yow smerte,
 Foryeve it me, myn owene swete herte."
 This Troilus, with blisse of that supprised,
 Putte al in Goddes hand, as he that mente
 Nothing but wel; and sodeynly avysed,
 He hire in armes faste to hym hente.
 And Pandarus with a ful good entente
 Leyde hym to slepe, and seyde, "If ye be wise,
1190 Swouneth nought now, lest more folk arise!"
 What myghte or may the sely larke seye,
 Whan that the sperhauk hath it in his foot?
 I kan namore; but of thise ilke tweye --
 To whom this tale sucre be or soot --
 Though that I tarie a yer, somtyme I moot,
 After myn auctour, tellen hire gladnesse,
 As wel as I have told hire hevynesse.
 Criseyde, which that felte hire thus itake,
 As writen clerkes in hire bokes olde,
1200 Right as an aspes leef she gan to quake,
 Whan she hym felte hire in his armes folde.
 But Troilus, al hool of cares colde,
 Gan thanken tho the bryghte goddes sevene;
 Thus sondry peynes bryngen folk in hevene.
 This Troilus in armes gan hire streyne,
 And seyde, "O swete, as evere mot I gon,
 Now be ye kaught; now is ther but we tweyne!
 Now yeldeth yow, for other bote is non!"
 To that Criseyde answerde thus anon,
1210 "Ne hadde I er now, my swete herte deere,
 Ben yolde, ywis, I were now nought heere!"
 O, sooth is seyd, that heled for to be
 As of a fevre or other gret siknesse,
 Men moste drynke, as men may ofte se,
 Ful bittre drynke; and for to han gladnesse
 Men drynken ofte peyne and gret distresse --
 I mene it here, as for this aventure,
 That thorugh a peyne hath founden al his cure.
 And now swetnesse semeth more swete,
1220 That bitternesse assaied was byforn;
 For out of wo in blisse now they flete;
 Non swich they felten sithen they were born.
 Now is this bet than bothe two be lorn.
 For love of God, take every womman heede
 To werken thus, if it comth to the neede.
 Criseyde, al quyt from every drede and tene,
 As she that juste cause hadde hym to triste,
 Made hym swych feste it joye was to sene,
 Whan she his trouthe and clene entente wiste;
1230 And as aboute a tree, with many a twiste,
 Bytrent and writh the swote wodebynde,
 Gan ech of hem in armes other wynde.
 And as the newe abaysed nyghtyngale,
 That stynteth first whan she bygynneth to synge,
 Whan that she hereth any herde tale,
 Or in the hegges any wyght stirynge,
 And after siker doth hire vois out rynge,
 Right so Criseyde, whan hire drede stente,
 Opned hire herte and tolde hym hire entente.
1240 And right as he that seth his deth yshapen,
 And dyen mot, in ought that he may gesse,
 And sodeynly rescous doth hym escapen,
 And from his deth is brought in sykernesse,
 For al this world, in swych present gladnesse
 Was Troilus, and hath his lady swete.
 With worse hap God lat us nevere mete!
 Hire armes smale, hire streghte bak and softe,
 Hire sydes longe, flesshly, smothe, and white
 He gan to stroke, and good thrift bad ful ofte
1250 Hire snowissh throte, hire brestes rounde and lite.
 Thus in this hevene he gan hym to delite,
 And therwithal a thousand tyme hire kiste,
 That what to don, for joie unnethe he wiste.
 Than seyde he thus: "O Love, O Charite!
 Thi moder ek, Citheria the swete,
 After thiself next heried be she --
 Venus mene I, the wel-willy planete! --
 And next that, Imeneus, I the grete,
 For nevere man was to yow goddes holde
1260 As I, which ye han brought fro cares colde.
 "Benigne Love, thow holy bond of thynges,
 Whoso wol grace and list the nought honouren,
 Lo, his desir wol fle withouten wynges;
 For noldestow of bownte hem socouren
 That serven best and most alwey labouren,
 Yet were al lost, that dar I wel seyn, certes,
 But if thi grace passed oure desertes.
 "And for thow me, that koude leest disserve
 Of hem that noumbred ben unto thi grace,
1270 Hast holpen, ther I likly was to sterve,
 And me bistowed in so heigh a place
 That thilke boundes may no blisse pace,
 I kan namore; but laude and reverence
 Be to thy bounte and thyn excellence!"
 And therwithal Criseyde anon he kiste,
 Of which certein she felte no disese,
 And thus seyde he: "Now wolde God I wiste,
 Myn herte swete, how I yow myght plese!
 What man," quod he, "was evere thus at ese
1280 As I, on which the faireste and the beste
 That evere I say deyneth hire herte reste?
 "Here may men seen that mercy passeth right;
 Th' experience of that is felt in me,
 That am unworthi to so swete a wight.
 But herte myn, of youre benignite,
 So thynketh, though that I unworthi be,
 Yet mot I nede amenden in som wyse,
 Right thorugh the vertu of youre heigh servyse.
 "And for the love of God, my lady deere,
1290 Syn God hath wrought me for I shall yow serve --
 As thus I mene: he wol ye be my steere,
 To do me lyve, if that yow liste, or sterve --
 So techeth me how that I may disserve
 Youre thonk, so that I thorugh myn ignoraunce
 Ne do no thyng that yow be displesaunce.
 "For certes, fresshe wommanliche wif,
 This dar I seye, that trouth and diligence,
 That shal ye fynden in me al my lif;
 N' y wol nat, certein, breken youre defence;
1300 And if I do, present or in absence,
 For love of God, lat sle me with the dede,
 If that it like unto youre wommanhede."
 "Iwys," quod she, "myn owen hertes list,
 My ground of ese, and al myn herte deere,
 Gramercy, for on that is al my trist!
 But lat us falle awey fro this matere,
 For it suffiseth, this that seyd is heere,
 And at o word, withouten repentaunce,
 Welcome, my knyght, my pees, my suffisaunce!"
1310 Of hire delit or joies oon the leeste
 Were impossible to my wit to seye;
 But juggeth ye that han ben at the feste
 Of swich gladnesse, if that hem liste pleye!
 I kan namore, but thus thise ilke tweye
 That nyght, bitwixen drede and sikernesse,
 Felten in love the grete worthynesse.
 O blisful nyght, of hem so longe isought,
 How blithe unto hem bothe two thow weere!
 Why nad I swich oon with my soule ybought,
1320 Ye, or the leeste joie that was theere?
 Awey, thow foule daunger and thow feere,
 And lat hem in this hevene blisse dwelle,
 That is so heigh that al ne kan I telle!
 But sooth is, though I kan nat tellen al,
 As kan myn auctour, of his excellence,
 Yet have I seyd, and God toforn, and shal
 In every thyng, al holly his sentence;
 And if that ich, at Loves reverence,
 Have any word in eched for the beste,
1330 Doth therwithal right as youreselven leste.
 For myne wordes, heere and every part,
 I speke hem alle under correccioun
 Of yow that felyng han in loves art,
 And putte it al in youre discrecioun
 To encresse or maken dymynucioun
 Of my langage, and that I yow biseche.
 But now to purpos of my rather speche.
 Thise ilke two, that ben in armes laft,
 So loth to hem asonder gon it were,
1340 That ech from other wenden ben biraft,
 Or elles -- lo, this was hir mooste feere --
 That al this thyng but nyce dremes were;
 For which ful ofte ech of hem seyde, "O swete,
 Clippe ich yow thus, or elles I it meete?"
 And Lord! So he gan goodly on hire se
 That nevere his look ne bleynte from hire face,
 And seyde, "O deere herte, may it be
 That it be soth, that ye ben in this place?"
 "Yee, herte myn, God thank I of his grace,"
1350 Quod tho Criseyde, and therwithal hym kiste,
 That where his spirit was, for joie he nyste.
 This Troilus ful ofte hire eyen two
 Gan for to kisse, and seyde, "O eyen clere,
 It weren ye that wroughte me swich wo,
 Ye humble nettes of my lady deere!
 Though ther be mercy writen in youre cheere,
 God woot, the text ful hard is, soth, to fynde!
 How koude ye withouten bond me bynde?"
 Therwith he gan hire faste in armes take,
1360 And wel a thousand tymes gan he syke --
 Naught swiche sorwfull sikes as men make
 For wo, or elles when that folk ben sike,
 But esy sykes, swiche as ben to like,
 That shewed his affeccioun withinne;
 Of swiche sikes koude he nought bilynne.
 Soone after this they spake of sondry thynges,
 As fel to purpos of this aventure,
 And pleyinge entrechaungeden hire rynges,
 Of whiche I kan nought tellen no scripture;
1370 But wel I woot, a broche, gold and asure,
 In which a ruby set was lik an herte,
 Criseyde hym yaf, and stak it on his sherte.
 Lord, trowe ye a coveytous or a wrecche,
 That blameth love and halt of it despit,
 That of tho pens that he kan mokre and kecche
 Was evere yit yyeven hym swich delit
 As is in love, in o poynt, in som plit?
 Nay, douteles, for also God me save,
 So perfit joie may no nygard have.
1380 They wol seyn "Yis," but Lord, so they lye,
 Tho besy wrecches, ful of wo and drede!
 Thei callen love a woodnesse or folie,
 But it shall falle hem as I shal yow rede:
 They shal forgon the white and ek the rede,
 And lyve in wo, ther God yeve hem meschaunce,
 And every lovere in his trouthe avaunce!
 As wolde God tho wrecches that dispise
 Servise of love hadde erys also longe
 As hadde Mida, ful of coveytise,
1390 And therto dronken hadde as hoot and stronge
 As Crassus did for his affectis wronge,
 To techen hem that they ben in the vice,
 And loveres nought, although they holde hem nyce.
 Thise ilke two of whom that I yow seye,
 Whan that hire hertes wel assured were,
 Tho gonne they to speken and to pleye,
 And ek rehercen how, and whan, and where
 Thei knewe hem first, and every wo and feere
 That passed was; but al swich hevynesse --
1400 I thank it God -- was torned to gladnesse.
 And evere mo, when that hem fel to speke
 Of any wo of swich a tyme agoon,
 With kissyng al that tale sholde breke
 And fallen in a newe joye anoon;
 And diden al hire myght, syn they were oon,
 For to recoveren blisse and ben at eise,
 And passed wo with joie contrepeise.
 Resoun wol nought that I speke of slep,
 For it acordeth nought to my matere.
1410 God woot, they took of that ful litel kep!
 But lest this nyght, that was to hem so deere,
 Ne sholde in veyn escape in no manere,
 It was byset in joie and bisynesse
 Of al that souneth into gentilesse.
 But whan the cok, comune astrologer,
 Gan on his brest to bete and after crowe,
 And Lucyfer, the dayes messager,
 Gan for to rise and out hire bemes throwe,
 And estward roos -- to hym that koude it knowe --
1420 Fortuna Major, that anoon Criseyde,
 With herte soor, to Troilus thus seyde:
 "Myn hertes lif, my trist, al my plesaunce,
 That I was born, allas, what me is wo,
 That day of us moot make disseveraunce!
 For tyme it is to ryse and hennes go,
 Or ellis I am lost for evere mo!
 O nyght, allas, why nyltow over us hove
 As longe as whan Almena lay by Jove?
 "O blake nyght, as folk in bokes rede,
1430 That shapen art by God this world to hide
 At certeyn tymes wyth thi derke wede,
 That under that men myghte in reste abide,
 Wel oughten bestes pleyne and folk the chide,
 That there as day wyth labour wolde us breste,
 That thow thus fleest, and deynest us nought reste.
 "Thow doost, allas, to shortly thyn office,
 Thow rakle nyght! Ther God, maker of kynde,
 The, for thyn haste and thyn unkynde vice,
 So faste ay to oure hemysperie bynde
1440 That nevere more under the ground thow wynde!
 For now, for thow so hiest out of Troie,
 Have I forgon thus hastili my joie!"
 This Troilus, that with tho wordes felte,
 As thoughte hym tho, for pietous distresse
 The blody teris from his herte melte,
 As he that nevere yet swich hevynesse
 Assayed hadde, out of so gret gladnesse,
 Gan therwithal Criseyde, his lady deere,
 In armes streyne, and seyde in this manere:
1450 "O cruel day, accusour of the joie
 That nyght and love han stole and faste iwryen,
 Acorsed be thi comyng into Troye,
 For every bore hath oon of thi bryghte yen!
 Envyous day, what list the so to spien?
 What hastow lost? Why sekestow this place?
 Ther God thi light so quenche, for his grace!
 "Allas, what have thise loveris the agylt,
 Dispitous day? Thyn be the peyne of helle!
 For many a lovere hastow slayn, and wilt;
1460 Thy pourynge in wol nowher lat hem dwelle.
 What profrestow thi light here for to selle?
 Go selle it hem that smale selys grave;
 We wol the nought; us nedeth no day have."
 And ek the sonne, Titan, gan he chide,
 And seyde, "O fool, wel may men the dispise,
 That hast the dawyng al nyght by thi syde,
 And suffrest hire so soone up fro the rise
 For to disese loveris in this wyse.
 What, holde youre bed ther, thow, and ek thi Morwe!
1470 I bidde God, so yeve yow bothe sorwe!"
 Therwith ful soore he syghte, and thus he seyde:
 "My lady right, and of my wele or wo
 The welle and roote, O goodly myn Criseyde,
 And shal I rise, allas, and shal I so?
 Now fele I that myn herte moot a-two,
 For how sholde I my lif an houre save,
 Syn that with yow is al the lif ich have?
 "What shal I don? For, certes, I not how,
 Ne whan, allas, I shal the tyme see
1480 That in this plit I may ben eft with yow;
 And of my lif, God woot how that shal be,
 Syn that desir right now so streyneth me
 That I am ded anon, but I retourne.
 How sholde I longe, allas, fro yow sojourne?
 "But natheles, myn owen lady bright,
 Were it so that I wiste outrely
 That I, youre humble servant and youre knyght,
 Were in youre herte iset so fermely
 As ye in myn -- the which thyng, trewely,
1490 Me levere were than thise worldes tweyne --
 Yet sholde I bet enduren al my peyne."
 To that Criseyde answerde right anon,
 And with a sik she seyde, "O herte deere,
 The game, ywys, so ferforth now is gon
 That first shal Phebus fallen fro his speere,
 And everich egle ben the dowves feere,
 And everich roche out of his place sterte,
 Er Troilus oute of Criseydes herte.
 "Ye ben so depe in-with myn herte grave,
1500 That, though I wolde it torne out of my thought,
 As wisly verray God my soule save,
 To dyen in the peyne, I koude nought.
 And, for the love of God that us hath wrought,
 Lat in youre brayn non other fantasie
 So crepe that it cause me to dye!
 "And that ye me wolde han as faste in mynde
 As I have yow, that wolde I yow biseche;
 And if I wiste sothly that to fynde,
 God myghte nought a poynt my joies eche.
1510 But herte myn, withouten more speche,
 Beth to me trewe, or ellis were it routhe,
 For I am thyn, by God and by my trouthe!
 "Beth glad, forthy, and lyve in sikernesse!
 Thus seyde I nevere er this, ne shal to mo;
 And if to yow it were a gret gladnesse
 To torne ayeyn soone after that ye go,
 As fayn wolde I as ye that it were so,
 As wisly God myn herte brynge at reste!"
 And hym in armes tok, and ofte keste.
1520 Agayns his wil, sith it mot nedes be,
 This Troilus up ros, and faste hym cledde,
 And in his armes took his lady free
 An hondred tyme, and on his wey hym spedde;
 And with swich voys as though his herte bledde,
 He seyde, "Farwel, dere herte swete;
 Ther God us graunte sownde and soone to mete!"
 To which no word for sorwe she answerde,
 So soore gan his partyng hire distreyne;
 And Troilus unto his paleys ferde,
1530 As wo-bygon as she was, soth to seyne.
 So harde hym wrong of sharp desir the peyne
 For to ben eft there he was in plesaunce,
 That it may nevere out of his remembraunce.
 Retorned to his real paleys soone,
 He softe into his bed gan for to slynke,
 To slepe longe, as he was wont to doone.
 But al for nought; he may wel ligge and wynke,
 But slep ne may ther in his herte synke,
 Thynkyng how she for whom desir hym brende
1540 A thousand fold was worth more than he wende.
 And in his thought gan up and down to wynde
 Hire wordes alle, and every countenaunce,
 And fermely impressen in his mynde
 The leeste point that to him was plesaunce;
 And verraylich of thilke remembraunce
 Desir al newe hym brende, and lust to brede
 Gan more than erst, and yet took he non hede.
 Criseyde also, right in the same wyse,
 Of Troilus gan in hire herte shette
1550 His worthynesse, his lust, his dedes wise,
 His gentilesse, and how she with hym mette,
 Thonkyng Love he so wel hire bisette,
 Desiryng eft to han hire herte deere
 In swich a plit, she dorste make hym cheere.
 Pandare, o-morwe, which that comen was
 Unto his nece and gan hire faire grete,
 Seyde, "Al this nyght so reyned it, allas,
 That al my drede is that ye, nece swete,
 Han litel laiser had to slepe and mete.
1560 Al nyght," quod he, "hath reyn so do me wake,
 That som of us, I trowe, hire hedes ake."
 And ner he com, and seyde, "How stant it now
 This mury morwe? Nece, how kan ye fare?"
 Criseyde answerde, "Nevere the bet for yow,
 Fox that ye ben! God yeve youre herte kare!
 God help me so, ye caused al this fare,
 Trowe I," quod she, "for al youre wordes white.
 O, whoso seeth yow knoweth yow ful lite."
 With that she gan hire face for to wrye
1570 With the shete, and wax for shame al reed;
 And Pandarus gan under for to prie,
 And seyde, "Nece, if that I shal be ded,
 Have here a swerd and smyteth of myn hed!"
 With that his arm al sodeynly he thriste
 Under hire nekke, and at the laste hire kyste.
 I passe al that which chargeth nought to seye.
 What! God foryaf his deth, and she al so
 Foryaf, and with here uncle gan to pleye,
 For other cause was ther noon than so.
1580 But of this thing right to the effect to go:
 Whan tyme was, hom til here hous she wente,
 And Pandarus hath fully his entente.
 Now torne we ayeyn to Troilus,
 That resteles ful longe abedde lay,
 And pryvely sente after Pandarus,
 To hym to com in al the haste he may.
 He com anon -- nought ones seyde he nay --
 And Troilus ful sobrely he grette,
 And down upon his beddes syde hym sette.
1590 This Troilus, with al th' affeccioun
 Of frendes love that herte may devyse,
 To Pandarus on knowes fil adown,
 And er that he wolde of the place arise
 He gan hym thonken in his beste wise
 An hondred sythe, and gan the tyme blesse
 That he was born, to brynge hym fro destresse.
 He seyde, "O frend of frendes the alderbeste
 That evere was, the sothe for to telle,
 Thow hast in hevene ybrought my soule at reste
1600 Fro Flegitoun, the fery flood of helle,
 That, though I myght a thousand tymes selle
 Upon a day my lif in thi servise,
 It myghte naught a moote in that suffise.
 "The sonne, which that al the world may se,
 Saugh nevere yet my lif, that dar I leye,
 So inly fair and goodly as is she
 Whos I am al, and shal, tyl that I deye.
 And that I thus am hires, dar I seye,
 That thanked be the heighe worthynesse
1610 Of Love, and ek thi kynde bysynesse.
 "Thus hastow me no litel thing yyive,
 For which to the obliged be for ay
 My lif. And whi? For thorugh thyn help I lyve,
 Or elles ded hadde I ben many a day."
 And with that word down in his bed he lay,
 And Pandarus ful sobrely hym herde
 Tyl al was seyd, and than he thus answerde:
 "My deere frend, if I have don for the
 In any cas, God wot, it is me lief,
1620 And am as glad as man may of it be,
 God help me so; but tak now nat a-grief
 That I shal seyn: be war of this meschief,
 That, there as thow now brought art in thy blisse,
 That thow thiself ne cause it nat to misse.
 "For of fortunes sharpe adversitee
 The worste kynde of infortune is this,
 A man to han ben in prosperitee,
 And it remembren whan it passed is.
 Th' art wis ynough; forthi do nat amys:
1630 Be naught to rakel, theigh thow sitte warme,
 For if thow be, certeyn it wol the harme.
 "Thow art at ese, and hold the wel therinne;
 For also seur as reed is every fir,
 As gret a craft is kepe wel as wynne.
 Bridle alwey wel thi speche and thi desir,
 For worldly joie halt nought but by a wir.
 That preveth wel, it brest al day so ofte;
 Forthi nede is to werken with it softe."
 Quod Troilus, "I hope, and God toforn,
1640 My deere frend, that I shal so me beere
 That in my gylt ther shal nothyng be lorn,
 N' y nyl nought rakle as for to greven heere.
 It nedeth naught this matere ofte stere;
 For wystestow myn herte wel, Pandare,
 God woot, of this thow woldest litel care."
 Tho gan he telle hym of his glade nyght,
 And wherof first his herte dred, and how,
 And seyde, "Frend, as I am trewe knyght,
 And by that feyth I shal to God and yow,
1650 I hadde it nevere half so hote as now;
 And ay the more that desir me biteth
 To love hire best, the more it me deliteth.
 "I not myself naught wisly what it is,
 But now I feele a newe qualitee --
 Yee, al another than I dide er this."
 Pandare answerd, and seyde thus, that "he
 That ones may in hevene blisse be,
 He feleth other weyes, dar I leye,
 Than thilke tyme he first herde of it seye."
1660 This is o word for al: this Troilus
 Was nevere ful to speke of this matere,
 And for to preisen unto Pandarus
 The bounte of his righte lady deere,
 And Pandarus to thanke and maken cheere.
 This tale ay was span-newe to bygynne,
 Til that the nyght departed hem atwynne.
 Soon after this, for that Fortune it wolde,
 Icomen was the blisful tyme swete
 That Troilus was warned that he sholde,
1670 There he was erst, Criseyde his lady mete,
 For which he felte his herte in joie flete
 And feithfully gan alle the goddes herie.
 And lat se now if that he kan be merie!
 And holden was the forme and al the wise
 Of hire commyng, and of his also,
 As it was erst, which nedeth nought devyse.
 But pleynly to th' effect right for to go:
 In joie and suerte Pandarus hem two
 Abedde brought, whan that hem bothe leste,
1680 And thus they ben in quyete and in reste.
 Nought nedeth it to yow, syn they ben met,
 To axe at me if that they blithe were;
 For if it erst was wel, tho was it bet
 A thousand fold; this nedeth nought enquere.
 Ago was every sorwe and every feere;
 And bothe, ywys, they hadde, and so they wende,
 As muche joie as herte may comprende.
 This is no litel thyng of for to seye;
 This passeth every wit for to devyse;
1690 For ech of hem gan otheres lust obeye.
 Felicite, which that thise clerkes wise
 Comenden so, ne may nought here suffise;
 This joie may nought writen be with inke;
 This passeth al that herte may bythynke.
 But cruel day -- so wailaway the stounde! --
 Gan for t' aproche, as they by sygnes knewe,
 For which hem thoughte feelen dethis wownde.
 So wo was hem that chaungen gan hire hewe,
 And day they gonnen to despise al newe,
1700 Callyng it traitour, envyous, and worse,
 And bitterly the dayes light thei corse.
 Quod Troilus, "Allas, now am I war
 That Piros and tho swifte steedes thre,
 Which that drawen forth the sonnes char,
 Han gon som bi-path in dispit of me;
 That maketh it so soone day to be;
 And for the sonne hym hasteth thus to rise,
 Ne shal I nevere don hire sacrifise."
 But nedes day departe hem moste soone,
1710 And whan hire speche don was and hire cheere,
 They twynne anon, as they were wont to doone,
 And setten tyme of metyng eft yfeere;
 And many a nyght they wroughte in this manere,
 And thus Fortune a tyme ledde in joie
 Criseyde and ek this kynges sone of Troie.
 In suffisaunce, in blisse, and in singynges,
 This Troilus gan al his lif to lede.
 He spendeth, jousteth, maketh festeynges;
 He yeveth frely ofte, and chaungeth wede,
1720 And held aboute hym alwey, out of drede,
 A world of folk, as com hym wel of kynde,
 The fresshest and the beste he koude fynde;
 That swich a vois was of hym and a stevene,
 Thorughout the world, of honour and largesse,
 That it up rong unto the yate of hevene;
 And, as in love, he was in swich gladnesse
 That in his herte he demed, as I gesse,
 That ther nys lovere in this world at ese
 So wel as he; and thus gan love hym plese.
1730 The goodlihede or beaute which that kynde
 In any other lady hadde yset
 Kan nought the montance of a knotte unbynde
 Aboute his herte of al Criseydes net.
 He was so narwe ymasked and yknet,
 That it undon on any manere syde,
 That nyl naught ben, for aught that may bitide.
 And by the hond ful ofte he wolde take
 This Pandarus, and into gardyn lede,
 And swich a feste and swich a proces make
1740 Hym of Criseyde, and of hire wommanhede,
 And of hire beaute, that withouten drede
 It was an hevene his wordes for to here;
 And thanne he wolde synge in this manere:
 "Love, that of erthe and se hath governaunce,
 Love, that his hestes hath in hevene hye,
 Love, that with an holsom alliaunce
 Halt peples joyned, as hym lest hem gye,
 Love, that knetteth lawe of compaignie,
 And couples doth in vertu for to dwelle,
1750 Bynd this acord, that I have told and telle.
 "That, that the world with feith which that is stable
 Diverseth so his stowndes concordynge,
 That elementz that ben so discordable
 Holden a bond perpetuely durynge,
 That Phebus mote his rosy day forth brynge,
 And that the mone hath lordshipe over the nyghtes:
 Al this doth Love, ay heried be his myghtes! --
 "That, that the se, that gredy is to flowen,
 Constreyneth to a certeyn ende so
1760 His flodes that so fiersly they ne growen
 To drenchen erthe and al for evere mo;
 And if that Love aught lete his bridel go,
 Al that now loveth asondre sholde lepe,
 And lost were al that Love halt now to-hepe.
 "So wolde God, that auctour is of kynde,
 That with his bond Love of his vertu liste
 To cerclen hertes alle and faste bynde,
 That from his bond no wight the wey out wiste;
 And hertes colde, hem wolde I that he twiste
1770 To make hem love, and that hem liste ay rewe
 On hertes sore, and kepe hem that ben trewe!"
 In alle nedes for the townes werre
 He was, and ay, the first in armes dyght,
 And certeynly, but if that bokes erre,
 Save Ector most ydred of any wight;
 And this encrees of hardynesse and myght
 Com hym of love, his ladies thank to wynne,
 That altered his spirit so withinne.
 In tyme of trewe, on haukyng wolde he ride,
1780 Or elles honte boor, beer, or lyoun;
 The smale bestes leet he gon biside.
 And whan that he com ridyng into town,
 Ful ofte his lady from hire wyndow down,
 As fressh as faukoun comen out of muwe,
 Ful redy was hym goodly to saluwe.
 And moost of love and vertu was his speche,
 And in despit hadde alle wrecchednesse;
 And douteles, no nede was hym biseche
 To honouren hem that hadde worthynesse,
1790 And esen hem that weren in destresse;
 And glad was he if any wyght wel ferde,
 That lovere was, whan he it wiste or herde.
 For soth to seyne, he lost held every wyght,
 But if he were in Loves heigh servise --
 I mene folk that oughte it ben of right.
 And over al this, so wel koude he devyse
 Of sentement and in so unkouth wise
 Al his array, that every lovere thoughte
 That al was wel, what so he seyde or wroughte.
1800 And though that he be come of blood roial,
 Hym liste of pride at no wight for to chace;
 Benigne he was to ech in general,
 For which he gat hym thank in every place.
 Thus wolde Love -- yheried be his grace! --
 That Pride, Envye, Ire, and Avarice
 He gan to fle, and everich other vice.
 Thow lady bryght, the doughter to Dyone,
 Thy blynde and wynged sone ek, daun Cupide,
 Yee sustren nyne ek, that by Elicone
1810 In hil Pernaso listen for t' abide,
 That ye thus fer han deyned me to gyde --
 I kan namore, but syn that ye wol wende,
 Ye heried ben for ay withouten ende!
 Thorugh yow have I seyd fully in my song
 Th' effect and joie of Troilus servise,
 Al be that ther was som disese among,
 As to myn auctour listeth to devise.
 My thridde bok now ende ich in this wyse,
 And Troilus in lust and in quiete
1820 Is with Criseyde, his owen herte swete.

---

Troilus and Criseyde

Book 4

 But al to litel, weylaway the whyle,
 Lasteth swich joie, ythonked be Fortune,
 That semeth trewest whan she wol bygyle
 And kan to fooles so hire song entune
 That she hem hent and blent, traitour comune!
 And whan a wight is from hire whiel ythrowe,
 Than laugheth she, and maketh hym the mowe.
 From Troilus she gan hire brighte face
 Awey to writhe, and tok of hym non heede,
10 But caste hym clene out of his lady grace,
 And on hire whiel she sette up Diomede;
 For which myn herte right now gynneth blede,
 And now my penne, allas, with which I write,
 Quaketh for drede of that I moste endite.
 For how Criseyde Troilus forsook --
 Or at the leeste, how that she was unkynde --
 Moot hennesforth ben matere of my book,
 As writen folk thorugh which it is in mynde.
 Allas, that they sholde evere cause fynde
20 To speke hire harm! And if they on hire lye,
 Iwis, hemself sholde han the vilanye.
 O ye Herynes, Nyghtes doughtren thre,
 That endeles compleignen evere in pyne,
 Megera, Alete, and ek Thesiphone,
 Thow cruel Mars ek, fader to Quyryne,
 This ilke ferthe book me helpeth fyne,
 So that the losse of lyf and love yfeere
 Of Troilus be fully shewed heere.
 Liggyng in oost, as I have seyd er this,
30 The Grekys stronge aboute Troie town,
 Byfel that, whan that Phebus shynyng is
 Upon the brest of Hercules lyoun,
 That Ector, with ful many a bold baroun,
 Caste on a day with Grekis for to fighte,
 As he was wont, to greve hem what he myghte.
 Not I how longe or short it was bitwene
 This purpos and that day they issen mente,
 But on a day, wel armed, brighte, and shene,
 Ector and many a worthi wight out wente,
40 With spere in honde and bigge bowes bente;
 And in the berd, withouten lenger lette,
 Hire fomen in the feld hem faste mette.
 The longe day, with speres sharpe igrounde,
 With arwes, dartes, swerdes, maces felle,
 They fighte and bringen hors and man to grounde,
 And with hire axes out the braynes quelle.
 But in the laste shour, soth for to telle,
 The folk of Troie hemselven so mysledden
 That with the worse at nyght homward they fledden.
50 At which day was taken Antenore,
 Maugre Polydamas or Monesteo,
 Santippe, Sarpedoun, Polynestore,
 Polite, or ek the Trojan daun Rupheo,
 And other lasse folk as Phebuseo;
 So that, for harm, that day the folk of Troie
 Dredden to lese a gret part of hire joie.
 Of Priamus was yeve, at Grek requeste,
 A tyme of trewe, and tho they gonnen trete
 Hire prisoners to chaungen, meste and leste,
60 And for the surplus yeven sommes grete.
 This thing anon was couth in every strete,
 Bothe in th' assege, in town, and everywhere,
 And with the firste it com to Calkas ere.
 Whan Calkas knew this tretis sholde holde,
 In consistorie among the Grekes soone
 He gan in thringe forth with lordes olde,
 And sette hym there as he was wont to doone;
 And with a chaunged face hem bad a boone,
 For love of God, to don that reverence,
70 To stynte noyse and yeve hym audience.
 Than seyde he thus: "Lo, lordes myn, ich was
 Troian, as it is knowen out of drede;
 And, if that yow remembre, I am Calkas,
 That alderfirst yaf comfort to youre nede,
 And tolde wel how that ye shulden spede.
 For dredeles, thorugh yow shal in a stownde
 Ben Troie ybrend and beten down to grownde.
 "And in what forme, or in what manere wise,
 This town to shende, and al youre lust t' acheve,
80 Ye han er this wel herd me yow devyse;
 This knowe ye, my lordes, as I leve.
 And for the Grekis weren me so leeve,
 I com myself, in my propre persone,
 To teche in this how yow was best to doone.
 "Havyng unto my tresor ne my rente
 Right no resport, to respect of youre ese,
 Thus al my good I lefte and to yow wente,
 Wenyng in this yow lordes for to plese.
 But al that los ne doth me no disese.
90 I vouchesauf, as wisly have I joie,
 For yow to lese al that I have in Troie,
 "Save of a doughter that I lefte, allas,
 Slepyng at hom, whanne out of Troie I sterte.
 O sterne, O cruel fader that I was!
 How myghte I have in that so hard an herte?
 Allas, I ne hadde ibrought hire in hire sherte!
 For sorwe of which I wol nought lyve to-morwe,
 But if ye lordes rewe upon my sorwe.
 "For by that cause I say no tyme er now
100 Hire to delivere, ich holden have my pees;
 But now or nevere, if that it like yow,
 I may hire have right soone, douteles.
 O help and grace amonges al this prees!
 Rewe on this olde caytyf in destresse,
 Syn I thorugh yow have al this hevynesse.
 "Ye have now kaught and fetered in prisoun
 Troians ynowe, and if youre willes be,
 My child with oon may han redempcioun;
 Now for the love of God and of bounte,
110 Oon of so fele, allas, so yive hym me!
 What nede were it this preiere for to werne,
 Syn ye shul bothe han folk and town as yerne?
 "On peril of my lif, I shal nat lye;
 Appollo hath me told it feithfully;
 I have ek founde it be astronomye,
 By sort, and by augurye ek, trewely,
 And dar wel say, the tyme is faste by
 That fire and flaumbe on al the town shal sprede,
 And thus shal Troie torne to asshen dede.
120 "For certein, Phebus and Neptunus bothe,
 That makeden the walles of the town,
 Ben with the folk of Troie alwey so wrothe
 That they wol brynge it to confusioun,
 Right in despit of kyng Lameadoun;
 Bycause he nolde payen hem here hire,
 The town of Troie shal ben set on-fire."
 Tellyng his tale alwey, this olde greye,
 Humble in his speche and in his lokyng eke,
 The salte teris from his eyen tweye
130 Ful faste ronnen down by either cheke.
 So longe he gan of socour hem biseke
 That, for to hele hym of his sorwes soore,
 They yave hym Antenor, withouten moore.
 But who was glad ynough but Calkas tho?
 And of this thyng ful soone his nedes leyde
 On hem that sholden for the tretis go,
 And hem for Antenor ful ofte preyde
 To bryngen hom kyng Toas and Criseyde.
 And whan Priam his save-garde sente,
140 Th' embassadours to Troie streight they wente.
 The cause itold of hire comyng, the olde
 Priam, the kyng, ful soone in general
 Let her-upon his parlement to holde,
 Of which th' effect rehercen yow I shal.
 Th' embassadours ben answerd for fynal;
 Th' eschaunge of prisoners and al this nede
 Hem liketh wel, and forth in they procede.
 This Troilus was present in the place
 Whan axed was for Antenor Criseyde,
150 For which ful soone chaungen gan his face,
 As he that with tho wordes wel neigh deyde.
 But natheles he no word to it seyde,
 Lest men sholde his affeccioun espye;
 With mannes herte he gan his sorwes drye,
 And ful of angwissh and of grisly drede
 Abod what lordes wolde unto it seye;
 And if they wolde graunte -- as God forbede --
 Th' eschaunge of hire, than thoughte he thynges tweye:
 First, how to save hire honour, and what weye
160 He myghte best th' eschaunge of hire withstonde.
 Ful faste he caste how al this myghte stonde.
 Love hym made al prest to don hire byde,
 And rather dyen than she sholde go;
 But Resoun seyde hym, on that other syde,
 "Withouten assent of hire ne do nat so,
 Lest for thi werk she wolde be thy fo,
 And seyn that thorugh thy medlynge is iblowe
 Youre bother love, ther it was erst unknowe."
 For which he gan deliberen, for the beste,
170 That though the lordes wolde that she wente,
 He wolde lat hem graunte what hem leste,
 And telle his lady first what that they mente;
 And whan that she hadde seyd hym hire entente,
 Therafter wolde he werken also blyve,
 Theigh al the world ayeyn it wolde stryve.
 Ector, which that wel the Grekis herde,
 For Antenor how they wolde han Criseyde,
 Gan it withstonde, and sobrely answerde:
 "Syres, she nys no prisonere," he seyde;
180 "I not on yow who that this charge leyde,
 But, on my part, ye may eftsone hem telle,
 We usen here no wommen for to selle."
 The noyse of peple up stirte thanne at ones,
 As breme as blase of straw iset on-fire;
 For infortune it wolde, for the nones,
 They sholden hire confusioun desire.
 "Ector," quod they, "what goost may yow enspyre
 This womman thus to shilde and don us leese
 Daun Antenor -- a wrong wey now ye chese --
190 "That is so wys and ek so bold baroun?
 And we han nede to folk, as men may se.
 He is ek oon the grettest of this town.
 O Ector, lat tho fantasies be!
 O kyng Priam," quod they, "thus sygge we,
 That al oure vois is to forgon Criseyde."
 And to deliveren Antenor they preyde.
 O Juvenal, lord, trewe is thy sentence,
 That litel wyten folk what is to yerne,
 That they ne fynde in hire desir offence;
200 For cloude of errour let hem to discerne
 What best is. And lo, here ensample as yerne:
 This folk desiren now deliveraunce
 Of Antenor, that brought hem to meschaunce,
 For he was after traitour to the town
 Of Troye. Allas, they quytte hym out to rathe!
 O nyce world, lo, thy discrecioun!
 Criseyde, which that nevere dide hem scathe,
 Shal now no lenger in hire blisse bathe;
 But Antenor, he shal com hom to towne,
210 And she shal out; thus seyden here and howne.
 For which delibered was by parlement
 For Antenor to yelden out Criseyde,
 And it pronounced by the president,
 Altheigh that Ector "nay" ful ofte preyde.
 And fynaly, what wight that it withseyde,
 It was for nought; it moste ben and sholde,
 For substaunce of the parlement it wolde.
 Departed out of parlement echone,
 This Troilus, withouten wordes mo,
220 Unto his chambre spedde hym faste allone,
 But if it were a man of his or two
 The which he bad out faste for to go
 Bycause he wolde slepen, as he seyde,
 And hastily upon his bed hym leyde.
 And as in wynter leves ben biraft,
 Ech after other, til the tree be bare,
 So that ther nys but bark and braunche ilaft,
 Lith Troilus, byraft of ech welfare,
 Ibounden in the blake bark of care,
230 Disposed wood out of his wit to breyde,
 So sore hym sat the chaungynge of Criseyde.
 He rist hym up, and every dore he shette,
 And wyndow ek, and tho this sorwful man
 Upon his beddes syde adown hym sette,
 Ful lik a ded ymage, pale and wan;
 And in his brest the heped wo bygan
 Out breste, and he to werken in this wise
 In his woodnesse, as I shal yow devyse.
 Right as the wylde bole bygynneth sprynge,
240 Now her, now ther, idarted to the herte,
 And of his deth roreth in compleynynge,
 Right so gan he aboute the chaumbre sterte,
 Smytyng his brest ay with his fistes smerte;
 His hed to the wal, his body to the grounde
 Ful ofte he swapte, hymselven to confounde.
 His eyen two, for piete of herte,
 Out stremeden as swifte welles tweye;
 The heighe sobbes of his sorwes smerte
 His speche hym refte; unnethes myghte he seye,
250 "O deth, allas, why nyltow do me deye?
 Acorsed be that day which that Nature
 Shop me to ben a lyves creature!"
 But after, whan the furie and al the rage,
 Which that his herte twiste and faste threste,
 By lengthe of tyme somwhat gan aswage,
 Upon his bed he leyde hym down to reste.
 But tho bygonne his teeris more out breste,
 That wonder is the body may suffise
 To half this wo which that I yow devyse.
260 Than seyde he thus: "Fortune, allas the while!
 What have I don? What have I thus agylt?
 How myghtestow for rowthe me bygile?
 Is ther no grace, and shal I thus be spilt?
 Shal thus Creiseyde awey, for that thow wilt?
 Allas, how maistow in thyn herte fynde
 To ben to me thus cruwel and unkynde?
 "Have I the nought honoured al my lyve,
 As thow wel woost, above the goddes alle?
 Whi wiltow me fro joie thus deprive?
270 O Troilus, what may men now the calle
 But wrecche of wrecches, out of honour falle
 Into miserie, in which I wol bewaille
 Criseyde -- allas! -- til that the breth me faille?
 "Allas, Fortune, if that my lif in joie
 Displesed hadde unto thi foule envye,
 Why ne haddestow my fader, kyng of Troye,
 Byraft the lif, or don my bretheren dye,
 Or slayn myself, that thus compleyne and crye --
 I, combre-world, that may of nothyng serve,
280 But evere dye and nevere fulli sterve.
 "If that Criseyde allone were me laft,
 Nought roughte I whiderward thow woldest me steere;
 And hire, allas, than hastow me biraft.
 But everemore, lo, this is thi manere,
 To reve a wight that most is to hym deere,
 To preve in that thi gerful violence.
 Thus am I lost; ther helpeth no diffence.
 "O verrey lord, O Love! O god, allas!
 That knowest best myn herte and al my thought,
290 What shal my sorwful lif don in this cas,
 If I forgo that I so deere have bought?
 Syn ye Criseyde and me han fully brought
 Into youre grace, and bothe oure hertes seled,
 How may ye suffre, allas, it be repeled?
 "What shal I don? I shal, while I may dure
 On lyve in torment and in cruwel peyne
 This infortune or this disaventure,
 Allone as I was born, iwys, compleyne;
 Ne nevere wol I seen it shyne or reyne,
300 But ende I wol, as Edippe, in derknesse
 My sorwful lif, and dyen in distresse.
 "O wery goost, that errest to and fro,
 Why nyltow fleen out of the wofulleste
 Body that evere myghte on grounde go?
 O soule, lurkynge in this wo, unneste,
 Fle forth out of myn herte, and lat it breste,
 And folowe alwey Criseyde, thi lady dere.
 Thi righte place is now no lenger here.
 "O woful eyen two, syn youre disport
310 Was al to sen Criseydes eyen brighte,
 What shal ye don but, for my discomfort,
 Stonden for naught, and wepen out youre sighte,
 Syn she is queynt that wont was yow to lighte?
 In vayn fro this forth have ich eyen tweye
 Ifourmed, syn youre vertu is aweye.
 "O my Criseyde, O lady sovereigne
 Of thilke woful soule that thus crieth,
 Who shal now yeven comfort to my peyne?
 Allas, no wight. But whan myn herte dieth,
320 My spirit, which that so unto yow hieth,
 Receyve in gree, for that shal ay yow serve;
 Forthi no fors is, though the body sterve.
 "O ye loveris, that heigh upon the whiel
 Ben set of Fortune, in good aventure,
 God leve that ye fynde ay love of stiel,
 And longe mote youre lif in joie endure!
 But whan ye comen by my sepulture,
 Remembreth that youre felawe resteth there;
 For I loved ek, though ich unworthi were.
330 "O oold, unholsom, and myslyved man --
 Calkas I mene -- allas, what eiled the
 To ben a Grek, syn thow art born Troian?
 O Calkas, which that wolt my bane be,
 In corsed tyme was thow born for me!
 As wolde blisful Jove, for his joie,
 That I the hadde wher I wolde, in Troie!"
 A thousand sikes, hotter than the gleede,
 Out of his brest ech after other wente,
 Medled with pleyntes new, his wo to feede,
340 For which his woful teris nevere stente;
 And shortly, so his peynes hym torente,
 And wex so mat, that joie nor penaunce
 He feleth non, but lith forth in a traunce.
 Pandare, which that in the parlement
 Hadde herd what every lord and burgeys seyde,
 And how ful graunted was by oon assent
 For Antenor to yelden so Criseyde,
 Gan wel neigh wood out of his wit to breyde,
 So that for wo he nyste what he mente,
350 But in a rees to Troilus he wente.
 A certeyn knyght that for the tyme kepte
 The chambre door undide it hym anon;
 And Pandare, that ful tendreliche wepte,
 Into the derke chambre, as stille as ston,
 Toward the bed gan softely to gon,
 So confus that he nyste what to seye;
 For verray wo his wit was neigh aweye.
 And with his chiere and lokyng al totorn
 For sorwe of this, and with his armes folden,
360 He stood this woful Troilus byforn,
 And on his pitous face he gan byholden.
 But Lord, so ofte gan his herte colden,
 Seyng his frend in wo, whos hevynesse
 His herte slough, as thoughte hym, for destresse.
 This woful wight, this Troilus, that felte
 His frend Pandare ycomen hym to se,
 Gan as the snow ayeyn the sonne melte;
 For which this sorwful Pandare, of pitee,
 Gan for to wepe as tendreliche as he;
370 And specheles thus ben thise ilke tweye,
 That neither myghte o word for sorwe seye.
 But at the laste this woful Troilus,
 Neigh ded for smert, gan bresten out to rore,
 And with a sorwful noise he seyde thus,
 Among hise sobbes and his sikes sore:
 "Lo, Pandare, I am ded, withouten more.
 Hastow nat herd at parlement," he seyde,
 "For Antenor how lost is my Criseyde?"
 This Pandarus, ful ded and pale of hewe,
380 Ful pitously answerde and seyde, "Yis!
 As wisly were it fals as it is trewe,
 That I have herd, and woot al how it is.
 O mercy, God, who wolde have trowed this?
 Who wolde have wend that in so litel a throwe
 Fortune oure joie wold han overthrowe?
 "For in this world ther is no creature,
 As to my dom, that ever saugh ruyne
 Straunger than this, thorugh cas or aventure.
 But who may al eschue, or al devyne?
390 Swich is this world! Forthi I thus diffyne:
 Ne trust no wight to fynden in Fortune
 Ay propretee; hire yiftes ben comune.
 "But telle me this: whi thow art now so mad
 To sorwen thus? Whi listow in this wise,
 Syn thi desir al holly hastow had,
 So that, by right, it oughte ynough suffise?
 But I, that nevere felte in my servyse
 A frendly cheere or lokyng of an eye,
 Lat me thus wepe and wailen til I deye.
400 "And over al this, as thow wel woost thiselve,
 This town is ful of ladys al aboute;
 And, to my doom, fairer than swiche twelve
 As evere she was, shal I fynde in som route --
 Yee, on or two, withouten any doute.
 Forthi be glad, myn owen deere brother!
 If she be lost, we shal recovere an other.
 "What! God forbede alwey that ech plesaunce
 In o thyng were and in non other wight!
 If oon kan synge, an other kan wel daunce;
410 If this be goodly, she is glad and light;
 And this is fair, and that kan good aright.
 Ech for his vertu holden is for deere,
 Both heroner and faucoun for ryvere.
 "And ek, as writ Zanzis, that was ful wys,
 `The newe love out chaceth ofte the olde';
 And upon newe cas lith newe avys.
 Thenk ek, thi lif to saven artow holde.
 Swich fir, by proces, shal of kynde colde,
 For syn it is but casuel plesaunce,
420 Som cas shal putte it out of remembraunce;
 "For also seur as day comth after nyght,
 The newe love, labour, or oother wo,
 Or elles selde seynge of a wight,
 Don olde affecciouns alle over-go.
 And, for thi part, thow shalt have oon of tho
 T' abregge with thi bittre peynes smerte;
 Absence of hire shal dryve hire out of herte."
 Thise wordes seyde he for the nones alle,
 To help his frend, lest he for sorwe deyde;
430 For douteles, to don his wo to falle,
 He roughte nought what unthrift that he seyde.
 But Troilus, that neigh for sorwe deyde,
 Took litel heede of al that evere he mente --
 Oon ere it herde, at tother out it wente --
 But at the laste answerde, and seyde, "Frend,
 This lechecraft, or heeled thus to be,
 Were wel sittyng, if that I were a fend --
 To traysen a wight that trewe is unto me!
 I pray God lat this conseil nevere ythe;
440 But do me rather sterve anon-right here,
 Er I thus do as thow me woldest leere!
 "She that I serve, iwis, what so thow seye,
 To whom myn herte enhabit is by right,
 Shal han me holly hires til that I deye.
 For Pandarus, syn I have trouthe hire hight,
 I wol nat ben untrewe for no wight,
 But as hire man I wol ay lyve and sterve,
 And nevere other creature serve.
 "And ther thow seist thow shalt as faire fynde
450 As she, lat be; make no comparisoun
 To creature yformed here by kynde!
 O leve Pandare, in conclusioun,
 I wol nat ben of thyn opynyoun
 Touchyng al this. For which I the biseche,
 So hold thi pees; thow sleest me with thi speche!
 "Thow biddest me I shulde love another
 Al fresshly newe, and lat Criseyde go!
 It lith nat in my power, leeve brother;
 And though I myght, I wolde nat do so.
460 But kanstow playen raket, to and fro,
 Nettle in, dok out, now this, now that, Pandare?
 Now foule falle hire for thi wo that care!
 "Thow farest ek by me, thow Pandarus,
 As he that, whan a wight is wo bygon,
 He cometh to hym a paas and seith right thus:
 `Thynk nat on smert, and thow shalt fele non.'
 Thow moost me first transmewen in a ston,
 And reve me my passiones alle,
 Er thow so lightly do my wo to falle.
470 "The deth may wel out of my brest departe
 The lif, so longe may this sorwe myne,
 But fro my soule shal Criseydes darte
 Out nevere mo; but down with Proserpyne,
 Whan I am ded, I wol go wone in pyne,
 And ther I wol eternaly compleyne
 My wo, and how that twynned be we tweyne.
 "Thow hast here made an argument for fyn,
 How that it sholde a lasse peyne be
 Criseyde to forgon, for she was myn
480 And lyved in ese and in felicite.
 Whi gabbestow, that seydest unto me
 That `hym is wors that is fro wele ythrowe,
 Than he hadde erst noon of that wele yknowe'?
 "But tel me now, syn that the thynketh so light
 To changen so in love ay to and fro,
 Whi hastow nat don bisily thi myght
 To chaungen hire that doth the al thi wo?
 Why nyltow lete hire fro thyn herte go?
 Whi nyltow love an other lady swete,
490 That may thyn herte setten in quiete?
 "If thou hast had in love ay yet myschaunce
 And kanst it not out of thyn herte dryve,
 I, that levede yn lust and in plesaunce
 With here, as muche as creature on lyve,
 How sholde I that foryete, and that so blyve?
 O, where hastow ben hid so longe in muwe,
 That kanst so wel and formely arguwe?
 "Nay, God wot, nought worth is al thi red,
 For which, for what that evere may byfalle,
500 Withouten wordes mo, I wol be ded.
 O deth, that endere art of sorwes alle,
 Com now, syn I so ofte after the calle;
 For sely is that deth, soth for to seyne,
 That, ofte ycleped, cometh and endeth peyne.
 "Wel wot I, whil my lyf was in quyete,
 Er thow me slowe, I wolde have yeven hire;
 But now thi comynge is to me so swete
 That in this world I nothing so desire.
 O deth, syn with this sorwe I am a-fyre,
510 Thou other do me anoon yn teris drenche,
 Or with thi colde strok myn hete quenche.
 "Syn that thou sleest so fele in sondry wyse
 Ayens hire wil, unpreyed, day and nyght,
 Do me at my requeste this service:
 Delyvere now the world -- so dostow right --
 Of me, that am the wofulleste wyght
 That evere was; for tyme is that I sterve,
 Syn in this world of right nought may I serve."
 This Troylus in teris gan distille,
520 As licour out of a lambyc ful faste;
 And Pandarus gan holde his tunge stille,
 And to the ground his eyen doun he caste.
 But natheles, thus thought he at the laste:
 "What! Parde, rather than my felawe deye,
 Yet shal I somwhat more unto hym seye."
 And seyde, "Frend, syn thow hast swych distresse,
 And syn the list myn argumentz to blame,
 Why nylt thiselven helpen don redresse
 And with thy manhod letten al this grame?
530 Go ravysshe here! Ne kanstow nat, for shame?
 And other lat here out of towne fare,
 Or hold here stille, and leve thi nyce fare.
 "Artow in Troie, and hast non hardyment
 To take a womman which that loveth the
 And wolde hireselven ben of thyn assent?
 Now is nat this a nyce vanitee?
 Ris up anon, and lat this wepyng be,
 And kith thow art a man; for in this houre
 I wol ben ded, or she shal bleven oure."
540 To this answerde hym Troilus ful softe,
 And seyde, "Parde, leve brother deere,
 Al this have I myself yet thought ful ofte,
 And more thyng than thow devysest here.
 But whi this thyng is laft, thow shalt wel here;
 And whan thow me hast yeve an audience,
 Therafter maystow telle al thi sentence.
 "First, syn thow woost this town hath al this werre
 For ravysshyng of wommen so by myght,
 It sholde nought be suffred me to erre,
550 As it stant now, ne don so gret unright.
 I sholde han also blame of every wight,
 My fadres graunt if that I so withstoode,
 Syn she is chaunged for the townes goode.
 "I have ek thought, so it were hire assent,
 To axe hire at my fader, of his grace;
 Than thynke I this were hire accusement,
 Syn wel I woot I may hire nought purchace;
 For syn my fader, in so heigh a place
 As parlement hath hire eschaunge enseled,
560 He nyl for me his lettre be repeled.
 "Yet drede I moost hire herte to perturbe
 With violence, if I do swich a game;
 For if I wolde it openly desturbe,
 It mooste be disclaundre to hire name.
 And me were levere ded than hire diffame --
 As nolde God but if I sholde have
 Hire honour levere than my lif to save!
 "Thus am I lost, for aught that I kan see.
 For certeyn is, syn that I am hire knyght,
570 I moste hire honour levere han than me
 In every cas, as lovere ought of right.
 Thus am I with desir and reson twight:
 Desir for to destourben hire me redeth,
 And reson nyl nat; so myn herte dredeth."
 Thus wepyng that he koude nevere cesse,
 He seyde, "Allas, how shal I, wrecche, fare?
 For wel fele I alwey my love encresse,
 And hope is lasse and lasse alway, Pandare.
 Encressen ek the causes of my care.
580 So weilaway, whi nyl myn herte breste?
 For, as in love, ther is but litel reste."
 Pandare answerde, "Frend, thow maist, for me,
 Don as the list; but hadde ich it so hoote,
 And thyn estat, she sholde go with me,
 Though al this town cride on this thyng by note.
 I nolde sette at al that noys a grote!
 For whan men han wel cryd, than wol they rowne;
 Ek wonder last but nyne nyght nevere in towne.
 "Devyne not in resoun ay so depe
590 Ne preciously, but help thiself anon.
 Bet is that othere than thiselven wepe,
 And namely, syn ye two ben al on,
 Ris up, for by myn hed, she shal not goon!
 And rather be in blame a lite ifounde
 Than sterve here as a gnat, withouten wounde.
 "It is no rape, in my dom, ne no vice,
 Hire to witholden that ye love moost;
 Peraunter she myghte holde the for nyce
 To late hire go thus unto the Grekis oost.
600 Thenk ek Fortune, as wel thiselven woost,
 Helpeth hardy man unto his enprise,
 And weyveth wrecches for hire cowardise.
 "And though thy lady wolde a lite hire greve,
 Thow shalt thiself thi pees hereafter make;
 But as for me, certeyn, I kan nat leve
 That she wolde it as now for yvel take.
 Whi sholde thanne of ferd thyn herte quake?
 Thenk ek how Paris hath, that is thi brother,
 A love; and whi shaltow nat have another?
610 "And Troilus, o thyng I dar the swere:
 That if Criseyde, which that is thi lief,
 Now loveth the as wel as thow dost here,
 God help me so, she nyl nat take a-grief,
 Theigh thow do boote anon in this meschief;
 And if she wilneth fro the for to passe,
 Thanne is she fals; so love hire wel the lasse.
 "Forthi tak herte, and thynk right as a knyght:
 Thorugh love is broken al day every lawe.
 Kith now somwhat thi corage and thi myght;
620 Have mercy on thiself for any awe.
 Lat nat this wrecched wo thyn herte gnawe,
 But manly sette the world on six and sevene;
 And if thow deye a martyr, go to hevene!
 "I wol myself ben with the at this dede,
 Theigh ich and al my kyn upon a stownde
 Shulle in a strete as dogges liggen dede,
 Thorugh-girt with many a wid and blody wownde;
 In every cas I wol a frend be founde.
 And if the list here sterven as a wrecche,
630 Adieu, the devel spede hym that it recche!"
 This Troilus gan with tho wordes quyken,
 And seyde, "Frend, graunt mercy, ich assente.
 But certeynly thow maist nat so me priken,
 Ne peyne non ne may me so tormente,
 That, for no cas, it is nat myn entente,
 At shorte wordes, though I deyen sholde,
 To ravysshe hire, but if hireself it wolde."
 "Whi, so mene I," quod Pandare, "al this day.
 But telle me thanne, hastow hire wil assayed,
640 That sorwest thus?" And he answerde hym, "Nay."
 "Wherof artow," quod Pandare, "thanne amayed,
 That nost nat that she wol ben yvele appayed
 To ravysshe hire, syn thow hast nought ben there,
 But if that Jove told it in thyn ere?
 "Forthi ris up, as nought ne were, anon,
 And wassh thi face, and to the kyng thow wende,
 Or he may wondren whider thow art goon.
 Thow most with wisdom hym and othere blende,
 Or, upon cas, he may after the sende
650 Er thow be war; and shortly, brother deere,
 Be glad, and lat me werke in this matere,
 "For I shal shape it so, that sikerly
 Thow shalt this nyght som tyme, in som manere,
 Come speken with thi lady pryvely,
 And by hire wordes ek, and by hire cheere,
 Thow shalt ful sone aperceyve and wel here
 Al hire entente, and in this cas the beste.
 And far now wel, for in this point I reste."
 The swifte Fame, which that false thynges
660 Egal reporteth lik the thynges trewe,
 Was thorughout Troie yfled with preste wynges
 Fro man to man, and made this tale al newe,
 How Calkas doughter, with hire brighte hewe,
 At parlement, withouten wordes more,
 Ygraunted was in chaunge of Antenore.
 The whiche tale anon-right as Criseyde
 Hadde herd, she, which that of hire fader roughte,
 As in this cas, right nought, ne whan he deyde,
 Ful bisily to Jupiter bisoughte
670 Yeve hem meschaunce that this tretis broughte;
 But shortly, lest thise tales sothe were,
 She dorst at no wight asken it, for fere.
 As she that hadde hire herte and al hire mynde
 On Troilus iset so wonder faste
 That al this world ne myghte hire love unbynde,
 Ne Troilus out of hire herte caste,
 She wol ben his, while that hire lif may laste.
 And thus she brenneth both in love and drede,
 So that she nyste what was best to reede.
680 But as men seen in towne and al aboute
 That wommen usen frendes to visite,
 So to Criseyde of wommen com a route,
 For pitous joie, and wenden hire delite;
 And with hire tales, deere ynough a myte,
 Thise wommen, which that in the cite dwelle,
 They sette hem down and seyde as I shall telle.
 Quod first that oon, "I am glad, trewely,
 Bycause of yow, that shal youre fader see."
 Another seyde, "Ywis, so nam nat I,
690 For al to litel hath she with us be."
 Quod tho the thridde, "I hope, ywis, that she
 Shal bryngen us the pees on every syde,
 That, whan she goth, almyghty God hire gide!"
 Tho wordes and tho wommanysshe thynges,
 She herde hem right as though she thennes were;
 For God it woot, hire herte on othir thyng is.
 Although the body sat among hem there,
 Hire advertence is alwey elleswhere,
 For Troilus ful faste hire soule soughte;
700 Withouten word, on hym alwey she thoughte.
 Thise wommen, that thus wenden hire to plese,
 Aboute naught gonne alle hire tales spende.
 Swich vanyte ne kan don hire non ese,
 As she that al this mene while brende
 Of other passioun than that they wende,
 So that she felte almost hire herte dye
 For wo and wery of that compaignie.
 For which no lenger myghte she restreyne
 Hir teeris, so they gonnen up to welle,
710 That yaven signes of the bittre peyne
 In which hir spirit was, and moste dwelle,
 Remembryng hir, fro heven into which helle
 She fallen was, syn she forgoth the syghte
 Of Troilus, and sorwfully she sighte.
 And thilke fooles sittynge hire aboute
 Wenden that she wepte and siked sore
 Bycause that she sholde out of that route
 Departe, and nevere pleye with hem more.
 And they that hadde yknowen hire of yore
720 Seigh hire so wepe and thoughte it kyndenesse,
 And ech of hem wepte ek for hire destresse.
 And bisyly they gonnen hire comforten
 Of thyng, God woot, on which she litel thoughte;
 And with hire tales wenden hire disporten,
 And to be glad they often hire bysoughte;
 But swich an ese therwith they hire wroughte,
 Right as a man is esed for to feele
 For ache of hed to clawen hym on his heele!
 But after al this nyce vanyte
730 They toke hire leve, and hom they wenten alle.
 Criseyde, ful of sorwful piete,
 Into hire chambre up went out of the halle,
 And on hire bed she gan for ded to falle,
 In purpos nevere thennes for to rise;
 And thus she wroughte, as I shal yow devyse.
 Hire ownded heer, that sonnyssh was of hewe,
 She rente, and ek hire fyngeres longe and smale
 She wrong ful ofte, and bad God on hire rewe,
 And with the deth to doon boote on hire bale.
740 Hire hewe, whilom bright, that tho was pale,
 Bar witnesse of hire wo and hire constreynte;
 And thus she spak, sobbyng in hire compleynte:
 "Allas," quod she, "out of this regioun
 I, woful wrecche and infortuned wight,
 And born in corsed constellacioun,
 Moot goon and thus departen fro my knyght!
 Wo worth, allas, that ilke dayes light
 On which I saugh hym first with eyen tweyne,
 That causeth me, and ich hym, al this peyne!"
750 Therwith the teris from hire eyen two
 Down fille, as shour in Aperil ful swithe;
 Hire white brest she bet, and for the wo
 After the deth she cryed a thousand sithe,
 Syn he that wont hire wo was for to lithe
 She moot forgon; for which disaventure
 She held hireself a forlost creature.
 She seyde, "How shal he don, and ich also?
 How sholde I lyve if that I from hym twynne?
 O deere herte eke, that I love so,
760 Who shal that sorwe slen that ye ben inne?
 O Calkas, fader, thyn be al this synne!
 O moder myn, that cleped were Argyve,
 Wo worth that day that thow me bere on lyve!
 "To what fyn sholde I lyve and sorwen thus?
 How sholde a fissh withouten water dure?
 What is Criseyde worth, from Troilus?
 How sholde a plaunte or lyves creature
 Lyve withouten his kynde noriture?
 For which ful ofte a by-word here I seye,
770 That `rooteles moot grene soone deye.'
 "I shal doon thus -- syn neither swerd ne darte
 Dar I noon handle, for the crueltee --
 That ilke day that I from yow departe,
 If sorwe of that nyl nat my bane be:
 Thanne shal no mete or drynke come in me
 Til I my soule out of my breste unshethe,
 And thus myselven wol I don to dethe.
 "And, Troilus, my clothes everychon
 Shul blake ben in tokenyng, herte swete,
780 That I am as out of this world agon,
 That wont was yow to setten in quiete;
 And of myn ordre, ay til deth me mete,
 The observance evere, in youre absence,
 Shal sorwe ben, compleynt, and abstinence.
 "Myn herte and ek the woful goost therinne
 Byqueth. I with youre spirit to compleyne
 Eternaly, for they shal nevere twynne;
 For though in erthe ytwynned be we tweyne,
 Yet in the feld of pite, out of peyne,
790 That highte Elisos, shal we ben yfeere,
 As Orpheus and Erudice, his fere.
 "Thus, herte myn, for Antenor, allas,
 I soone shal be chaunged, as I wene.
 But how shul ye don in this sorwful cas?
 How shal youre tendre herte this sustene?
 But, herte myn, foryete this sorwe and tene,
 And me also; for sothly for to seye,
 So ye wel fare, I recche naught to deye."
 How myghte it evere yred ben or ysonge,
800 The pleynte that she made in hire destresse?
 I not; but, as for me, my litel tonge,
 If I discryven wolde hire hevynesse,
 It sholde make hire sorwe seme lesse
 Than that it was, and childisshly deface
 Hire heigh compleynte, and therfore ich it pace.
 Pandare, which that sent from Troilus
 Was to Criseyde -- as ye han herd devyse
 That for the beste it was acorded thus,
 And he ful glad to doon hym that servyse --
810 Unto Criseyde, in a ful secree wise,
 Ther as she lay in torment and in rage,
 Com hire to telle al hoolly his message,
 And fond that she hireselven gan to trete
 Ful pitously, for with hire salte teris
 Hire brest, hire face, ybathed was ful wete;
 The myghty tresses of hire sonnysshe heeris
 Unbroiden hangen al aboute hire eeris,
 Which yaf hym verray signal of martire
 Of deth, which that hire herte gan desire.
820 Whan she hym saugh, she gan for shame anon
 Hire tery face atwixe hire armes hide;
 For which this Pandare is so wo-bygon
 That in the hous he myghte unnethe abyde,
 As he that pite felt on every syde;
 For if Criseyde hadde erst compleyned soore,
 Tho gan she pleyne a thousand tymes more.
 And in hire aspre pleynte thus she seyde:
 "Pandare first of joies mo than two
 Was cause causyng unto me, Criseyde,
830 That now transmewed ben in cruel wo.
 Wher shal I seye to yow welcom or no,
 That alderfirst me broughte unto servyse
 Of love -- allas! -- that endeth in swich wise?
 "Endeth than love in wo? Ye, or men lieth,
 And alle worldly blisse, as thynketh me.
 The ende of blisse ay sorwe it occupieth.
 And whoso troweth nat that it so be,
 Lat hym upon me, woful wrecche, ysee,
 That myself hate and ay my burthe acorse,
840 Felyng alwey fro wikke I go to worse.
 "Whoso me seeth, he seeth sorwe al atonys --
 Peyne, torment, pleynte, wo, distresse!
 Out of my woful body harm ther noon is,
 As angwissh, langour, cruel bitternesse,
 Anoy, smert, drede, fury, and ek siknesse.
 I trowe, ywys, from hevene teeris reyne
 For pite of myn aspre and cruel peyne."
 "And thow, my suster, ful of discomfort,"
 Quod Pandarus, "what thynkestow to do?
850 Whi ne hastow to thyselven som resport?
 Whi wiltow thus thiself, allas, fordo?
 Leef al this werk, and tak now heede to
 That I shal seyn; and herkne of good entente
 This which by me thi Troilus the sente."
 Tornede hire tho Criseyde, a wo makynge
 So gret that it a deth was for to see.
 "Allas," quod she, "what wordes may ye brynge?
 What wol my deere herte seyn to me,
 Which that I drede nevere mo to see?
860 Wol he han pleynte or teris er I wende?
 I have ynough, if he therafter sende!"
 She was right swich to seen in hire visage
 As is that wight that men on beere bynde;
 Hire face, lik of Paradys the ymage,
 Was al ychaunged in another kynde.
 The pleye, the laughter, men was wont to fynde
 On hire, and ek hire joies everichone,
 Ben fled; and thus lith now Criseyde allone.
 Aboute hire eyen two a purpre ryng
870 Bytrent, in sothfast tokenyng of hire peyne,
 That to biholde it was a dedly thyng;
 For which Pandare myghte nat restreyne
 The teeris from his eighen for to reyne;
 But natheles, as he best myghte, he seyde
 From Troilus thise wordes to Criseyde:
 "Lo, nece, I trowe ye han herd al how
 The kyng with othere lordes, for the beste,
 Hath mad eschaunge of Antenor and yow,
 That cause is of this sorwe and this unreste.
880 But how this cas dooth Troilus moleste,
 That may non erthly mannes tonge seye --
 As he that shortly shapith hym to deye.
 "For which we han so sorwed, he and I,
 That into litel bothe it hadde us slawe;
 But thorugh my conseyl this day finaly
 He somwhat is fro wepynge now withdrawe,
 And semeth me that he desireth fawe
 With yow to ben al nyght, for to devyse
 Remedie in this, if ther were any wyse.
890 "This, short and pleyn, th' effect of my message,
 As ferforth as my wit kan comprehende,
 For ye that ben of torment in swich rage
 May to no long prologe as now entende.
 And hereupon ye may answere hym sende;
 And for the love of God, my nece deere,
 So lef this wo er Troilus be here!"
 "Gret is my wo," quod she, and sighte soore
 As she that feleth dedly sharp distresse;
 "But yit to me his sorwe is muchel more,
900 That love hym bet than he hymself, I gesse.
 Allas, for me hath he swich hevynesse?
 Kan he for me so pitously compleyne?
 Iwis, his sorwe doubleth al my peyne.
 "Grevous to me, God woot, is for to twynne,"
 Quod she, "but yet it harder is to me
 To sen that sorwe which that he is inne;
 For wel I woot it wol my bane be,
 And deye I wol in certeyn," tho quod she;
 "But bid hym come, er deth, that thus me threteth,
910 Dryve out that goost which in myn herte beteth."
 Thise wordes seyd, she on hire armes two
 Fil gruf, and gan to wepen pitously.
 Quod Pandarus, "Allas, whi do ye so,
 Syn wel ye woot the tyme is faste by
 That he shal come? Aris up hastily,
 That he yow nat bywopen thus ne fynde,
 But ye wole have hym wood out of his mynde.
 "For wiste he that ye ferde in this manere,
 He wolde hymselven sle; and if I wende
920 To han this fare, he sholde nat come here
 For al the good that Priam may dispende.
 For to what fyn he wolde anon pretende,
 That knowe ich wel; and forthi yet I seye:
 So lef this sorwe, or platly he wol deye.
 "And shapeth yow his sorwe for t' abregge,
 And nought encresse, leeve nece swete!
 Beth rather to hym cause of flat than egge,
 And with som wisdom ye his sorwe bete.
 What helpeth it to wepen ful a strete,
930 Or though ye bothe in salte teeris dreynte?
 Bet is a tyme of cure ay than of pleynte.
 "I mene thus: whan ich hym hider brynge,
 Syn ye be wise and bothe of oon assent,
 So shapeth how destourbe youre goynge,
 Or come ayeyn soon after ye be went.
 Women ben wise in short avysement;
 And lat sen how youre wit shal now availle,
 And that that I may helpe, it shal nat faille."
 "Go," quod Criseyde, "and uncle, trewely,
940 I shal don al my myght me to restreyne
 From wepyng in his sighte, and bisily
 Hym for to glade I shal don al my peyne,
 And in myn herte seken every veyne.
 If to his sore ther may be fonden salve,
 It shal nat lakke, certeyn, on my halve."
 Goth Pandarus, and Troilus he soughte
 Til in a temple he fond hym al allone,
 As he that of his lif no lenger roughte;
 But to the pitouse goddes everichone
950 Ful tendrely he preyde and made his mone,
 To doon hym sone out of this world to pace,
 For wel he thoughte ther was non other grace.
 And shortly, al the sothe for to seye,
 He was so fallen in despeir that day,
 That outrely he shop hym for to deye.
 For right thus was his argument alway:
 He seyde he nas but lorn, weylaway!
 "For al that comth, comth by necessitee:
 Thus to ben lorn, it is my destinee.
960 "For certeynly, this wot I wel," he seyde,
 "That forsight of divine purveyaunce
 Hath seyn alwey me to forgon Criseyde,
 Syn God seeth every thyng, out of doutaunce,
 And hem disponyth, thorugh his ordinaunce,
 In hire merites sothly for to be,
 As they shul comen by predestyne.
 "But natheles, allas, whom shal I leeve?
 For ther ben grete clerkes many oon
 That destyne thorugh argumentes preve;
970 And som men seyn that nedely ther is noon,
 But that fre chois is yeven us everychon.
 O, welaway! So sleighe arn clerkes olde
 That I not whos opynyoun I may holde.
 "For som men seyn, if God seth al biforn --
 Ne God may nat deceyved ben, parde --
 Than moot it fallen, theigh men hadde it sworn,
 That purveiance hath seyn before to be.
 Wherfore I sey, that from eterne if he
 Hath wist byforn oure thought ek as oure dede,
980 We han no fre chois, as thise clerkes rede.
 "For other thought, nor other dede also,
 Myghte nevere ben, but swich as purveyaunce,
 Which may nat ben deceyved nevere mo,
 Hath feled byforn, withouten ignoraunce.
 For yf ther myghte ben a variaunce
 To writhen out fro Goddis purveyinge,
 Ther nere no prescience of thyng comynge,
 "But it were rather an opynyoun
 Uncerteyn, and no stedfast forseynge;
990 And certes, that were an abusioun,
 That God sholde han no parfit cler wytynge
 More than we men that han doutous wenynge.
 But swich an errour upon God to gesse
 Were fals and foul, and wikked corsednesse.
 "Ek this is an opynyoun of some
 That han hire top ful heighe and smothe yshore:
 They seyn right thus, that thyng is nat to come
 For that the prescience hath seyn byfore
 That it shal come; but they seyn that therfore
1000 That it shal come, therfore the purveyaunce
 Woot it byforn, withouten ignoraunce;
 "And in this manere this necessite
 Retorneth in his part contrarie agayn.
 For nedfully byhoveth it nat to bee
 That thilke thynges fallen in certayn
 That ben purveyed; but nedly, as they sayn,
 Byhoveth it that thynges whiche that falle,
 That they in certayn ben purveyed alle.
 "I mene as though I laboured me in this
1010 To enqueren which thyng cause of which thyng be:
 As wheither that the prescience of God is
 The certeyn cause of the necessite
 Of thynges that to comen ben, parde,
 Or if necessite of thyng comynge
 Be cause certeyn of the purveyinge.
 "But now n' enforce I me nat in shewynge
 How the ordre of causes stant; but wel woot I
 That it byhoveth that the byfallynge
 Of thynges wist byfore certeynly
1020 Be necessarie, al seme it nat therby
 That prescience put fallynge necessaire
 To thyng to come, al falle it foule or faire.
 "For if ther sitte a man yond on a see,
 Than by necessite bihoveth it
 That, certes, thyn opynyoun sooth be
 That wenest or conjectest that he sit.
 And further over now ayeynward yit,
 Lo, right so is it of the part contrarie,
 As thus -- now herkne, for I wol nat tarie:
1030 "I sey that if the opynyoun of the
 Be soth, for that he sitte, than sey I this:
 That he mot sitten by necessite;
 And thus necessite in eyther is.
 For in hym, nede of sittynge is, ywys,
 And in the, nede of soth; and thus, forsothe,
 There mot necessite ben in yow bothe.
 "But thow mayst seyn, the man sit nat therfore
 That thyn opynyoun of his sittynge soth is,
 But rather, for the man sit ther byfore,
1040 Therfore is thyn opynyoun soth, ywis.
 And I seye, though the cause of soth of this
 Comth of his sittyng, yet necessite
 Is entrechaunged, both in hym and the.
 "Thus in this same wise, out of doutaunce,
 I may wel maken, as it semeth me,
 My resonyng of Goddes purveyaunce
 And of the thynges that to comen be;
 By which resoun men may wel yse
 That thilke thynges that in erthe falle,
1050 That by necessite they comen alle.
 "For although that for thyng shal come, ywys,
 Therfore is it purveyed, certeynly --
 Nat that it comth for it purveyed is --
 Yet natheles, bihoveth it nedfully
 That thing to come be purveyd, trewely,
 Or elles, thynges that purveyed be,
 That they bitiden by necessite.
 "And this suffiseth right ynough, certeyn,
 For to destruye oure fre chois every del.
1060 But now is this abusioun, to seyn
 That fallyng of the thynges temporel
 Is cause of Goddes prescience eternel.
 Now trewely, that is a fals sentence,
 That thyng to come sholde cause his prescience.
 "What myght I wene, and I hadde swich a thought,
 But that God purveyeth thyng that is to come
 For that it is to come, and ellis nought?
 So myghte I wene that thynges alle and some
 That whilom ben byfalle and overcome
1070 Ben cause of thilke sovereyne purveyaunce
 That forwoot al withouten ignoraunce.
 "And over al this, yet sey I more herto:
 That right as whan I wot ther is a thyng,
 Iwys, that thyng moot nedfully be so;
 Ek right so, whan I woot a thyng comyng,
 So mot it come; and thus the bifallyng
 Of thynges that ben wist bifore the tyde,
 They mowe nat ben eschued on no syde."
 Thanne seyde he thus: "Almyghty Jove in trone,
1080 That woost of al thys thyng the sothfastnesse,
 Rewe on my sorwe: or do me deyen sone,
 Or bryng Criseyde and me fro this destresse!"
 And whil he was in al this hevynesse,
 Disputyng with hymself in this matere,
 Com Pandare in, and seyde as ye may here:
 "O myghty God," quod Pandarus, "in trone,
 I! Who say evere a wis man faren so?
 Whi, Troilus, what thinkestow to doone?
 Hastow swich lust to ben thyn owen fo?
1090 What, parde, yet is nat Criseyde ago!
 Whi list the so thiself fordoon for drede
 That in thyn hed thyne eyen semen dede?
 "Hastow nat lyved many a yer byforn
 Withouten hire, and ferd ful wel at ese?
 Artow for hire and for noon other born?
 Hath Kynde the wrought al only hire to plese?
 Lat be, and thynk right thus in thi disese:
 That, in the dees right as ther fallen chaunces,
 Right so in love ther come and gon plesaunces.
1100 "And yet this is a wonder most of alle,
 Whi thow thus sorwest, syn thow nost nat yit,
 Touchyng hire goyng, how that it shal falle,
 Ne yif she kan hireself destourben it.
 Thow hast nat yet assayed al hire wit.
 A man may al bytyme his nekke beede
 Whan it shal of, and sorwen at the nede.
 "Forthi tak hede of that that I shal seye:
 I have with hire yspoke and longe ybe,
 So as acorded was bitwixe us tweye;
1110 And evere mor me thynketh thus, that she
 Hath somwhat in hire hertes privete
 Wherwith she kan, if I shal right arede,
 Destourbe al this of which thow art in drede.
 "For which my counseil is, whan it is nyght
 Thow to hire go and make of this an ende;
 And blisful Juno thorugh hire grete myght
 Shal, as I hope, hire grace unto us sende.
 Myn herte seyth, `Certeyn, she shal nat wende.'
 And forthi put thyn herte a while in reste,
1120 And hold this purpos, for it is the beste."
 This Troilus answerd, and sighte soore:
 "Thow seist right wel, and I wol don right so."
 And what hym liste, he seyde unto it more.
 And whan that it was tyme for to go,
 Ful pryvely hymself, withouten mo,
 Unto hire com, as he was wont to doone;
 And how they wroughte, I shal yow tellen soone.
 Soth is, that whan they gonnen first to mete,
 So gan the peyne hire hertes for to twiste
1130 That neyther of hem other myghte grete,
 But hem in armes toke, and after kiste.
 The lasse woful of hem bothe nyste
 Wher that he was, ne myghte o word out brynge,
 As I seyde erst, for wo and for sobbynge.
 The woful teeris that they leten falle
 As bittre weren, out of teris kynde,
 For peyne, as is ligne aloes or galle --
 So bittre teeris weep nought, as I fynde,
 The woful Mirra thorugh the bark and rynde --
1140 That in this world ther nys so hard an herte
 That nolde han rewed on hire peynes smerte.
 But whan hire woful weri goostes tweyne
 Retourned ben ther as hem oughte dwelle,
 And that somwhat to wayken gan the peyne
 By lengthe of pleynte, and ebben gan the welle
 Of hire teeris, and the herte unswelle,
 With broken vois, al hoors forshright, Criseyde
 To Troilus thise ilke wordes seyde:
 "O Jove, I deye, and mercy I beseche!
1150 Help, Troilus!" And therwithal hire face
 Upon his brest she leyde and loste speche --
 Hire woful spirit from his propre place,
 Right with the word, alwey o poynt to pace.
 And thus she lith with hewes pale and grene,
 That whilom fressh and fairest was to sene.
 This Troilus, that on hire gan biholde,
 Clepyng hire name -- and she lay as for ded --
 Without answere, and felte hire lymes colde,
 Hire eyen throwen upward to hire hed,
1160 This sorwful man kan now noon other red,
 But ofte tyme hire colde mowth he kiste.
 Wher hym was wo, God and hymself it wiste!
 He rist hym up, and long streght he hire leyde;
 For signe of lif, for aught he kan or may,
 Kan he non fynde in nothyng on Criseyde,
 For which his song ful ofte is "weylaway!"
 But whan he saugh that specheles she lay,
 With sorweful vois and herte of blisse al bare,
 He seyde how she was fro this world yfare.
1170 So after that he longe hadde hire compleyned,
 His hondes wrong, and seyd that was to seye,
 And with his teeris salt hire brest byreyned,
 He gan tho teeris wypen of ful dreye,
 And pitously gan for the soule preye,
 And seyde, "O Lord, that set art in thi trone,
 Rewe ek on me, for I shal folwe hire sone!"
 She cold was, and withouten sentement
 For aught he woot, for breth ne felte he non,
 And this was hym a pregnant argument
1180 That she was forth out of this world agon.
 And whan he say ther was non other woon,
 He gan hire lymes dresse in swich manere
 As men don hem that shal ben layd on beere.
 And after this, with sterne and cruel herte,
 His swerd anon out of his shethe he twighte
 Hymself to slen, how sore that hym smerte,
 So that his soule hire soule folwen myghte
 Ther as the doom of Mynos wolde it dighte,
 Syn Love and cruel Fortune it ne wolde
1190 That in this world he lenger lyven sholde.
 Than seyde he thus, fulfild of heigh desdayn:
 "O cruel Jove, and thow, Fortune adverse,
 This al and som: that falsly have ye slayn
 Criseyde, and syn ye may do me no werse,
 Fy on youre myght and werkes so dyverse!
 Thus cowardly ye shul me nevere wynne;
 Ther shal no deth me fro my lady twynne.
 "For I this world, syn ye have slayn hire thus,
 Wol lete and folwe hire spirit low or hye.
1200 Shal nevere lovere seyn that Troilus
 Dar nat for fere with his lady dye;
 For certeyn I wol beere hire compaignie.
 But syn ye wol nat suffre us lyven here,
 Yet suffreth that oure soules ben yfere.
 "And thow, cite, which that I leve in wo,
 And thow, Priam, and bretheren alle yfeere,
 And thow, my moder, farwel, for I go;
 And Atropos, make redy thow my beere;
 And thow, Criseyde, o swete herte deere,
1210 Receyve now my spirit!" wolde he seye,
 With swerd at herte, al redy for to deye.
 But as God wolde, of swough therwith sh' abreyde,
 And gan to sike, and "Troilus" she cride;
 And he answerde, "Lady myn, Criseyde,
 Lyve ye yet?" and leet his swerd down glide.
 "Ye, herte myn, that thonked be Cipride!"
 Quod she; and therwithal she soore syghte,
 And he bigan conforte hire as he myghte,
 Took hire in armes two, and kiste hire ofte,
1220 And hire to glade he did al his entente;
 For which hire goost, that flikered ay o-lofte,
 Into hire woful herte ayeyn it wente.
 But at the laste, as that hire eye glente
 Asyde, anon she gan his swerd espie,
 As it lay bare, and gan for fere crye,
 And asked hym, whi he it hadde out drawe.
 And Troilus anon the cause hire tolde,
 And how hymself therwith he wolde han slawe;
 For which Criseyde upon hym gan biholde,
1230 And gan hym in hire armes faste folde,
 And seyde, "O mercy, God! Lo, which a dede!
 Allas, how neigh we weren bothe dede!
 "Than if I nadde spoken, as grace was,
 Ye wolde han slayn youreself anon?" quod she.
 "Yee, douteles"; and she answerde, "Allas,
 For by that ilke Lord that made me,
 I nolde a forlong wey on lyve have be
 After youre deth, to han ben crowned queene
 Of al that lond the sonne on shyneth sheene.
1240 "But with this selve swerd, which that here is,
 Myselve I wolde han slawe," quod she tho.
 "But hoo, for we han right ynough of this,
 And lat us rise, and streght to bedde go,
 And there lat us speken of oure wo;
 For, by the morter which that I se brenne,
 Knowe I ful wel that day is nat far henne."
 Whan they were in hire bed, in armes folde,
 Naught was it lik tho nyghtes here-byforn.
 For pitously ech other gan byholde,
1250 As they that hadden al hire blisse ylorn,
 Bywaylinge ay the day that they were born;
 Til at the laste this sorwful wight, Criseyde,
 To Troilus thise ilke wordes seyde:
 "Lo, herte myn, wel woot ye this," quod she,
 "That if a wight alwey his wo compleyne
 And seketh nought how holpen for to be,
 It nys but folie and encrees of peyne;
 And syn that here assembled be we tweyne
 To fynde boote of wo that we ben inne,
1260 It were al tyme soone to bygynne.
 "I am a womman, as ful wel ye woot,
 And as I am avysed sodeynly,
 So wol I telle yow, whil it is hoot.
 Me thynketh thus: that nouther ye nor I
 Ought half this wo to maken, skilfully;
 For ther is art ynough for to redresse
 That yet is mys, and slen this hevynesse.
 "Soth is, the wo, the which that we ben inne,
 For aught I woot, for nothyng ellis is
1270 But for the cause that we sholden twynne.
 Considered al, ther nys namore amys.
 But what is thanne a remede unto this,
 But that we shape us soone for to meete?
 This al and som, my deere herte sweete.
 "Now, that I shal wel bryngen it aboute
 To come ayeyn, soone after that I go,
 Therof am I no manere thyng in doute;
 For, dredeles, withinne a wowke or two
 I shal ben here; and that it may be so
1280 By alle right and in a wordes fewe,
 I shal yow wel an heep of weyes shewe.
 "For which I wol nat make long sermoun --
 For tyme ylost may nought recovered be --
 But I wol gon to my conclusioun,
 And to the beste, in aught that I kan see.
 And for the love of God, foryeve it me
 If I speke aught ayeyns youre hertes reste;
 For trewely, I speke it for the beste,
 "Makyng alwey a protestacioun
1290 That now thise wordes which that I shal seye
 Nis but to shewen yow my mocioun
 To fynde unto oure help the beste weye;
 And taketh it non other wise, I preye,
 For in effect, what so ye me comaunde,
 That wol I don, for that is no demaunde.
 "Now herkneth this: ye han wel understonde
 My goyng graunted is by parlement
 So ferforth that it may nat be withstonde
 For al this world, as by my jugement.
1300 And syn ther helpeth non avisement
 To letten it, lat it passe out of mynde,
 And lat us shape a bettre wey to fynde.
 "The soth is this: the twynnyng of us tweyne
 Wol us disese and cruelich anoye,
 But hym byhoveth somtyme han a peyne
 That serveth Love, if that he wol have joye.
 And syn I shal no ferther out of Troie
 Than I may ride ayeyn on half a morwe,
 It oughte lesse causen us to sorwe;
1310 "So as I shal not so ben hid in muwe,
 That day by day, myn owne herte deere --
 Syn wel ye woot that it is now a trewe --
 Ye shal ful wel al myn estat yheere.
 And er that trewe is doon, I shal ben heere;
 And thanne have ye both Antenore ywonne
 And me also. Beth glad now, if ye konne,
 "And thenk right thus: `Criseyde is now agon.
 But what, she shal come hastiliche ayeyn!'
 And whanne, allas? By God, lo, right anon,
1320 Er dayes ten, this dar I saufly seyn.
 And than at erste shal we be so feyn,
 So as we shal togideres evere dwelle,
 That al this world ne myghte oure blisse telle.
 "I se that oft-tyme, there as we ben now,
 That for the beste, oure counseyl for to hide,
 Ye speke nat with me, nor I with yow
 In fourtenyght, ne se yow go ne ride.
 May ye naught ten dayes thanne abide,
 For myn honour, in swich an aventure?
1330 Iwys, ye mowen ellis lite endure!
 "Ye knowe ek how that al my kyn is heere,
 But if that onliche it my fader be,
 And ek myn othere thynges alle yfeere,
 And nameliche, my deere herte, ye,
 Whom that I nolde leven for to se
 For al this world, as wyd as it hath space,
 Or ellis se ich nevere Joves face!
 "Whi trowe ye my fader in this wise
 Coveyteth so to se me, but for drede
1340 Lest in this town that folkes me despise
 Because of hym, for his unhappy dede?
 What woot my fader what lif that I lede?
 For if he wiste in Troie how wel I fare,
 Us neded for my wendyng nought to care.
 "Ye sen that every day ek, more and more,
 Men trete of pees, and it supposid is
 That men the queene Eleyne shal restore,
 And Grekis us restoren that is mys;
 So, though ther nere comfort non but this,
1350 That men purposen pees on every syde,
 Ye may the bettre at ese of herte abyde.
 "For if that it be pees, myn herte deere,
 The nature of the pees moot nedes dryve
 That men moost entrecomunen yfeere,
 And to and fro ek ride and gon as blyve
 Alday as thikke as been fleen from an hyve,
 And every wight han liberte to bleve
 Whereas hym liste the bet, withouten leve.
 "And though so be that pees ther may be non,
1360 Yet hider, though ther nevere pees ne were,
 I moste come; for whider sholde I gon,
 Or how, meschaunce, sholde I dwelle there
 Among tho men of armes evere in feere?
 For which, as wisly God my soule rede,
 I kan nat sen wherof ye sholden drede.
 "Have here another wey, if it so be
 That al this thyng ne may yow nat suffise:
 My fader, as ye knowen wel, parde,
 Is old, and elde is ful of coveytise,
1370 And I right now have founden al the gise,
 Withouten net, wherwith I shal hym hente.
 And herkeneth how, if that ye wol assente:
 "Lo, Troilus, men seyn that hard it is
 The wolf ful and the wether hool to have;
 This is to seyn, that men ful ofte, iwys,
 Mote spenden part the remenant for to save;
 For ay with gold men may the herte grave
 Of hym that set is upon coveytise;
 And how I mene, I shal it yow devyse:
1380 "The moeble which that I have in this town
 Unto my fader shal I take, and seye
 That right for trust and for savacioun
 It sent is from a frend of his or tweye,
 The whiche frendes ferventliche hym preye
 To senden after more, and that in hie,
 Whil that this town stant thus in jupartie.
 "And that shal ben an huge quantite --
 Thus shal I seyn -- but lest it folk espide,
 This may be sent by no wyght but by me.
1390 I shal ek shewen hym, yf pees bytyde,
 What frendes that ich have on every syde
 Toward the court, to don the wrathe pace
 Of Priamus and don hym stonde in grace.
 "So what for o thyng and for other, swete,
 I shal hym so enchaunten with my sawes
 That right in hevene his sowle is, shal he mete;
 For al Appollo, or his clerkes lawes,
 Or calkullynge, avayleth nought thre hawes;
 Desir of gold shal so his soule blende
1400 That, as me lyst, I shal wel make an ende.
 "And yf he wolde ought by hys sort it preve
 If that I lye, in certayn I shal fonde
 Distorben hym and plukke hym by the sleve,
 Makynge his sort, and beren hym on honde
 He hath not wel the goddes understonde;
 For goddes speken in amphibologies,
 And for o soth they tellen twenty lyes.
 "Ek, `Drede fond first goddes, I suppose' --
 Thus shal I seyn -- and that his coward herte
1410 Made hym amys the goddes text to glose,
 Whan he for fered out of Delphos sterte.
 And but I make hym soone to converte
 And don my red withinne a day or tweye,
 I wol to yow oblige me to deye."
 And treweliche, as writen wel I fynde
 That al this thyng was seyd of good entente,
 And that hire herte trewe was and kynde
 Towardes hym, and spak right as she mente,
 And that she starf for wo neigh whan she wente,
1420 And was in purpos evere to be trewe:
 Thus writen they that of hire werkes knewe.
 This Troilus, with herte and erys spradde,
 Herde al this thyng devysen to and fro,
 And verrayliche him semed that he hadde
 The selve wit; but yet to late hire go
 His herte mysforyaf hym evere mo;
 But fynaly, he gan his herte wreste
 To trusten hire, and took it for the beste.
 For which the grete furie of his penaunce
1430 Was queynt with hope, and therwith hem bitwene
 Bigan for joie th' amorouse daunce;
 And as the briddes, whanne the sonne is shene,
 Deliten in hire song in leves grene,
 Right so the wordes that they spake yfeere
 Delited hem, and made hire hertes clere.
 But natheles, the wendyng of Criseyde,
 For al this world, may nat out of his mynde,
 For which ful ofte he pitously hire preyde
 That of hire heste he myghte hire trewe fynde,
1440 And seyde hire, "Certes, if ye be unkynde,
 And but ye come at day set into Troye,
 Ne shal I nevere have hele, honour, ne joye.
 "For also soth as sonne uprist o-morwe --
 And God so wisly thow me, woful wrecche,
 To reste brynge out of this cruel sorwe! --
 I wol myselven sle if that ye drecche.
 But of my deeth though litel be to recche,
 Yet, er that ye me causen so to smerte,
 Dwelle rather here, myn owen swete herte.
1450 "For trewely, myn owne lady deere,
 Tho sleghtes yet that I have herd yow stere
 Ful shaply ben to faylen alle yfeere.
 For thus men seyth `That on thenketh the beere,
 But al another thenketh his ledere.'
 Youre syre is wys; and seyd is, out of drede,
 `Men may the wise atrenne, and naught atrede.'
 "It is ful hard to halten unespied
 Byfore a crepel, for he kan the craft;
 Youre fader is in sleght as Argus eyed;
1460 For al be that his moeble is hym biraft,
 His olde sleighte is yet so with hym laft
 Ye shal nat blende hym for youre wommanhede,
 Ne feyne aright; and that is al my drede.
 "I not if pees shal evere mo bitide;
 But pees or no, for ernest ne for game,
 I woot, syn Calkas on the Grekis syde
 Hath ones ben and lost so foule his name,
 He dar nomore come here ayeyn for shame;
 For which that wey, for aught I kan espie,
1470 To trusten on nys but a fantasie.
 "Ye shal ek sen, youre fader shal yow glose
 To ben a wif; and as he kan wel preche,
 He shal som Grek so preyse and wel alose
 That ravysshen he shal yow with his speche,
 Or do yow don by force as he shal teche;
 And Troilus, of whom ye nyl han routhe,
 Shal causeles so sterven in his trouthe!
 "And over al this, youre fader shal despise
 Us alle, and seyn this cite nys but lorn,
1480 And that th' assege nevere shal aryse,
 For-whi the Grekis han it alle sworn,
 Til we be slayn and down oure walles torn.
 And thus he shal yow with his wordes fere,
 That ay drede I that ye wol bleven there.
 "Ye shal ek seen so many a lusty knyght
 Among the Grekis, ful of worthynesse,
 And ech of hem with herte, wit, and myght
 To plesen yow don al his bisynesse,
 That ye shul dullen of the rudenesse
1490 Of us sely Troians, but if routhe
 Remorde yow, or vertu of youre trouthe.
 "And this to me so grevous is to thynke
 That fro my brest it wol my soule rende;
 Ne dredeles, in me ther may nat synke
 A good opynyoun, if that ye wende,
 For whi youre fadres sleghte wol us shende.
 And if ye gon, as I have told yow yore,
 So thenk I n' am but ded, withoute more.
 "For which, with humble, trewe, and pitous herte,
1500 A thousand tymes mercy I yow preye;
 So rueth on myn aspre peynes smerte,
 And doth somwhat as that I shal yow seye,
 And lat us stele awey bitwixe us tweye;
 And thynk that folie is, whan man may chese,
 For accident his substaunce ay to lese.
 "I mene thus: that syn we mowe er day
 Wel stele awey and ben togidere so,
 What wit were it to putten in assay,
 In cas ye sholden to youre fader go,
1510 If that ye myghten come ayeyn or no?
 Thus mene I: that it were a gret folie
 To putte that sikernesse in jupertie.
 "And vulgarly to speken of substaunce
 Of tresour, may we bothe with us lede
 Inough to lyve in honour and plesaunce
 Til into tyme that we shal ben dede;
 And thus we may eschuen al this drede.
 For everich other wey ye kan recorde,
 Myn herte, ywys, may therwith naught acorde.
1520 "And hardily, ne dredeth no poverte,
 For I have kyn and frendes elleswhere
 That, though we comen in oure bare sherte,
 Us sholde neyther lakken gold ne gere,
 But ben honured while we dwelten there.
 And go we anon; for as in myn entente,
 This is the beste, if that ye wole assente."
 Criseyde, with a sik, right in this wise
 Answerde, "Ywys, my deere herte trewe,
 We may wel stele awey, as ye devyse,
1530 And fynden swich unthrifty weyes newe,
 But afterward ful soore it wol us rewe.
 And helpe me God so at my mooste nede,
 As causeles ye suffren al this drede!
 "For thilke day that I for cherisynge
 Or drede of fader, or for other wight,
 Or for estat, delit, or for weddynge,
 Be fals to yow, my Troilus, my knyght,
 Saturnes doughter, Juno, thorugh hire myght,
 As wood as Athamante do me dwelle
1540 Eternalich in Stix, the put of helle!
 "And this on every god celestial
 I swere it yow, and ek on ech goddesse,
 On every nymphe and deite infernal,
 On satiry and fawny more and lesse,
 That halve goddes ben of wildernesse;
 And Attropos my thred of lif tobreste
 If I be fals! Now trowe me if yow leste!
 "And thow, Symois, that as an arwe clere
 Thorugh Troie rennest downward to the se,
1550 Ber witnesse of this word that seyd is here:
 That thilke day that ich untrewe be
 To Troilus, myn owene herte fre,
 That thow retourne bakward to thi welle,
 And I with body and soule synke in helle!
 "But that ye speke, awey thus for to go
 And leten alle youre frendes, God forbede
 For any womman that ye sholden so,
 And namely syn Troie hath now swich nede
 Of help. And ek of o thyng taketh hede:
1560 If this were wist, my lif lay in balaunce,
 And youre honour; God shilde us fro meschaunce!
 "And if so be that pees heere-after take,
 As alday happeth after anger game,
 Whi, Lord, the sorwe and wo ye wolden make,
 That ye ne dorste come ayeyn for shame!
 And er that ye juparten so youre name,
 Beth naught to hastif in this hoote fare,
 For hastif man ne wanteth nevere care.
 "What trowe ye the peple ek al aboute
1570 Wolde of it seye? It is ful light t' arede.
 They wolden seye, and swere it out of doute,
 That love ne drof yow naught to don this dede,
 But lust voluptuous and coward drede.
 Thus were al lost, ywys, myn herte deere,
 Youre honour, which that now shyneth so clere.
 "And also thynketh on myn honeste,
 That floureth yet, how foule I sholde it shende,
 And with what filthe it spotted sholde be,
 If in this forme I sholde with yow wende.
1580 Ne though I lyved unto the werldes ende,
 My name sholde I nevere ayeynward wynne;
 Thus were I lost, and that were routhe and synne.
 "And forthi sle with resoun al this hete!
 Men seyn, `The suffrant overcomith,' parde;
 Ek `Whoso wol han lief, he lief moot lete.'
 Thus maketh vertu of necessite
 By pacience, and thynk that lord is he
 Of Fortune ay that naught wole of hire recche,
 And she ne daunteth no wight but a wrecche.
1590 "And trusteth this: that certes, herte swete,
 Er Phebus suster, Lucina the sheene,
 The Leoun passe out of this Ariete,
 I wol ben here, withouten any wene.
 I mene, as helpe me Juno, hevenes quene,
 The tenthe day, but if that deth m' assaile,
 I wol yow sen withouten any faille."
 "And now, so this be soth," quod Troilus,
 "I shal wel suffre unto the tenthe day,
 Syn that I se that nede it mot be thus.
1600 But for the love of God, if it be may,
 So late us stelen priveliche away;
 For evere in oon, as for to lyve in reste,
 Myn herte seyth that it wol be the beste."
 "O mercy, God, what lif is this?" quod she.
 "Allas, ye sle me thus for verray tene!
 I se wel now that ye mystrusten me,
 For by youre wordes it is wel yseene.
 Now for the love of Cinthia the sheene,
 Mistrust me nought thus causeles, for routhe,
1610 Syn to be trewe I have yow plight my trouthe.
 "And thynketh wel that somtyme it is wit
 To spende a tyme, a tyme for to wynne;
 Ne, parde, lorn am I naught fro yow yit,
 Though that we ben a day or two atwynne.
 Drif out the fantasies yow withinne,
 And trusteth me, and leveth ek youre sorwe,
 Or here my trouthe: I wol naught lyve tyl morwe.
 "For if ye wiste how soore it doth me smerte,
 Ye wolde cesse of this; for, God, thow wost,
1620 The pure spirit wepeth in myn herte
 To se yow wepen that I love most,
 And that I mot gon to the Grekis oost.
 Ye, nere it that I wiste remedie
 To come ayeyn, right here I wolde dye!
 "But certes, I am naught so nyce a wight
 That I ne kan ymaginen a wey
 To come ayeyn that day that I have hight.
 For who may holde a thing that wol awey?
 My fader naught, for al his queynte pley!
1630 And by my thrift, my wendyng out of Troie
 Another day shal torne us alle to joie.
 "Forthi with al myn herte I yow biseke,
 If that yow list don ought for my preyere,
 And for that love which that I love yow eke,
 That er that I departe fro yow here,
 That of so good a confort and a cheere
 I may yow sen that ye may brynge at reste
 Myn herte, which that is o poynt to breste.
 "And over al this I prey yow," quod she tho,
1640 "Myn owene hertes sothfast suffisaunce,
 Syn I am thyn al hol, withouten mo,
 That whil that I am absent, no plesaunce
 Of oother do me fro youre remembraunce;
 For I am evere agast, forwhy men rede
 That love is thyng ay ful of bisy drede.
 "For in this world ther lyveth lady non,
 If that ye were untrewe -- as God defende! --
 That so bitraised were or wo-bigon
 As I, that alle trouthe in yow entende.
1650 And douteles, if that ich other wende,
 I ner but ded; and er ye cause fynde,
 For Goddes love, so beth me naught unkynde!"
 To this answerde Troilus and seyde,
 "Now God, to whom ther nys no cause ywrye,
 Me glade, as wys I nevere unto Criseyde,
 Syn thilke day I saugh hire first with ye,
 Was fals, ne nevere shal til that I dye.
 At shorte wordes, wel ye may me leve.
 I kan na more; it shal be founde at preve."
1660 "Grant mercy, goode myn, iwys!" quod she,
 "And blisful Venus lat me nevere sterve
 Er I may stonde of plesaunce in degree
 To quyte hym wel that so wel kan deserve;
 And while that God my wit wol me conserve,
 I shal so don, so trewe I have yow founde,
 That ay honour to me-ward shal rebounde.
 "For trusteth wel that youre estat roial,
 Ne veyn delit, nor only worthinesse
 Of yow in werre or torney marcial,
1670 Ne pompe, array, nobleye, or ek richesse
 Ne made me to rewe on youre destresse,
 But moral vertu, grounded upon trouthe --
 That was the cause I first hadde on yow routhe!
 "Eke gentil herte and manhod that ye hadde,
 And that ye hadde, as me thoughte, in despit
 Every thyng that souned into badde,
 As rudenesse and poeplissh appetit,
 And that youre resoun bridlede youre delit,
 This made, aboven every creature,
1680 That I was youre, and shal while I may dure.
 "And this may lengthe of yeres naught fordo,
 Ne remuable Fortune deface.
 But Juppiter, that of his myght may do
 The sorwful to be glad, so yeve us grace
 Or nyghtes ten to meten in this place,
 So that it may youre herte and myn suffise!
 And fareth now wel, for tyme is that ye rise."
 And after that they longe ypleyned hadde,
 And ofte ykist, and streite in armes folde,
1690 The day gan rise, and Troilus hym cladde,
 And rewfullich his lady gan byholde,
 As he that felte dethes cares colde,
 And to hire grace he gan hym recomaunde.
 Wher hym was wo, this holde I no demaunde.
 For mannes hed ymagynen ne kan,
 N' entendement considere, ne tonge telle
 The cruele peynes of this sorwful man,
 That passen every torment down in helle.
 For whan he saugh that she ne myghte dwelle,
1700 Which that his soule out of his herte rente,
 Withouten more out of the chaumbre he wente.

---

Troilus and Criseyde

Book 5

 Aprochen gan the fatal destyne
 That Joves hath in disposicioun,
 And to yow, angry Parcas, sustren thre,
 Committeth to don execucioun;
 For which Criseyde moste out of the town,
 And Troilus shal dwellen forth in pyne
 Til Lachesis his thred no lenger twyne.
 The gold-tressed Phebus heighe on-lofte
 Thries hadde alle with his bemes cleene
10 The snowes molte, and Zepherus as ofte
 Ibrought ayeyn the tendre leves grene,
 Syn that the sone of Ecuba the queene
 Bigan to love hire first for whom his sorwe
 Was al, that she departe sholde a-morwe.
 Ful redy was at prime Diomede
 Criseyde unto the Grekis oost to lede,
 For sorwe of which she felt hire herte blede,
 As she that nyste what was best to rede.
 And trewely, as men in bokes rede,
20 Men wiste nevere womman han the care,
 Ne was so loth out of a town to fare.
 This Troilus, withouten reed or loore,
 As man that hath his joies ek forlore,
 Was waytyng on his lady evere more
 As she that was the sothfast crop and more
 Of al his lust or joies heretofore.
 But Troilus, now far-wel al thi joie,
 For shaltow nevere sen hire eft in Troie!
 Soth is that while he bood in this manere,
30 He gan his wo ful manly for to hide,
 That wel unnethe it sene was in his chere;
 But at the yate ther she sholde out ride,
 With certeyn folk he hoved hire t' abide,
 So wo-bigon, al wolde he naught hym pleyne,
 That on his hors unnethe he sat for peyne.
 For ire he quook, so gan his herte gnawe,
 Whan Diomede on horse gan hym dresse,
 And seyde to hymself this ilke sawe:
 "Allas," quod he, "thus foul a wrecchednesse,
40 Whi suffre ich it? Whi nyl ich it redresse?
 Were it nat bet atones for to dye
 Than evere more in langour thus to drye?
 "Whi nyl I make atones riche and pore
 To have inough to doone er that she go?
 Why nyl I brynge al Troie upon a roore?
 Whi nyl I slen this Diomede also?
 Why nyl I rather with a man or two
 Stele hire away? Whi wol I this endure?
 Whi nyl I helpen to myn owen cure?"
50 But why he nolde don so fel a dede,
 That shal I seyn, and whi hym liste it spare:
 He hadde in herte alweyes a manere drede
 Lest that Criseyde, in rumour of this fare,
 Sholde han ben slayn; lo, this was al his care.
 And ellis, certeyn, as I seyde yore,
 He hadde it don, withouten wordes more.
 Criseyde, whan she redy was to ride,
 Ful sorwfully she sighte, and seyde "Allas!"
 But forth she moot, for aught that may bitide;
60 Ther is non other remedie in this cas.
 And forth she rit ful sorwfully a pas.
 What wonder is, though that hire sore smerte,
 Whan she forgoth hire owen swete herte?
 This Troilus, in wise of curteysie,
 With hauk on honde and with an huge route
 Of knyghtes, rood and did hire companye,
 Passyng al the valeye fer withoute,
 And ferther wolde han riden, out of doute,
 Ful fayn, and wo was hym to gon so sone;
70 But torne he moste, and it was ek to done.
 And right with that was Antenor ycome
 Out of the Grekis oost, and every wight
 Was of it glad, and seyde he was welcome.
 And Troilus, al nere his herte light,
 He peyned hym with al his fulle myght
 Hym to withholde of wepyng atte leeste,
 And Antenor he kiste and made feste.
 And therwithal he moste his leve take,
 And caste his eye upon hire pitously,
80 And neer he rood, his cause for to make,
 To take hire by the honde al sobrely.
 And Lord, so she gan wepen tendrely!
 And he ful softe and sleighly gan hire seye,
 "Now holde youre day, and do me nat to deye."
 With that his courser torned he aboute
 With face pale, and unto Diomede
 No word he spak, ne non of al his route;
 Of which the sone of Tideus took hede,
 As he that koude more than the crede
90 In swich a craft, and by the reyne hire hente;
 And Troilus to Troie homward he wente.
 This Diomede, that ledde hire by the bridel,
 Whan that he saugh the folk of Troie aweye,
 Thoughte, "Al my labour shal nat ben on ydel,
 If that I may, for somwhat shal I seye,
 For at the werste it may yet shorte oure weye.
 I have herd seyd ek tymes twyes twelve,
 `He is a fool that wol foryete hymselve.'"
 But natheles, this thoughte he wel ynough,
100 That "Certeynlich I am aboute nought,
 If that I speke of love or make it tough;
 For douteles, if she have in hire thought
 Hym that I gesse, he may nat ben ybrought
 So soon awey; but I shal fynde a meene
 That she naught wite as yet shal what I mene."
 This Diomede, as he that koude his good,
 Whan tyme was, gan fallen forth in speche
 Of this and that, and axed whi she stood
 In swich disese, and gan hire ek biseche
110 That if that he encresse myghte or eche
 With any thyng hire ese, that she sholde
 Comaunde it hym, and seyde he don it wolde.
 For treweliche he swor hire as a knyght
 That ther nas thyng with which he myghte hire plese,
 That he nolde don his peyne and al his myght
 To don it, for to don hire herte an ese;
 And preyede hire she wolde hire sorwe apese,
 And seyde, "Iwis, we Grekis kan have joie
 To honouren yow as wel as folk of Troie."
120 He seyde ek thus: "I woot yow thynketh straunge --
 Ne wonder is, for it is to yow newe --
 Th' aquayntaunce of thise Troianis to chaunge
 For folk of Grece, that ye nevere knewe.
 But wolde nevere God but if as trewe
 A Grek ye sholde among us alle fynde
 As any Troian is, and ek as kynde.
 "And by the cause I swor yow right, lo, now,
 To ben youre frend, and helply, to my myght,
 And for that more aquayntaunce ek of yow
130 Have ich had than another straunger wight,
 So fro this forth, I pray yow, day and nyght
 Comaundeth me, how soore that me smerte,
 To don al that may like unto youre herte;
 "And that ye me wolde as youre brother trete,
 And taketh naught my frendshipe in despit;
 And though youre sorwes be for thynges grete --
 Not I nat whi -- but out of more respit
 Myn herte hath for t' amende it gret delit;
 And if I may youre harmes nat redresse,
140 I am right sory for youre hevynesse,
 "For though ye Troians with us Grekes wrothe
 Han many a day ben, alwey yet, parde,
 O god of Love in soth we serven bothe.
 And for the love of God, my lady fre,
 Whomso ye hate, as beth nat wroth with me,
 For trewely, ther kan no wyght yow serve
 That half so loth youre wratthe wold disserve.
 "And nere it that we ben so neigh the tente
 Of Calcas, which that sen us bothe may,
150 I wolde of this yow telle al myn entente --
 But this enseled til anothir day.
 Yeve me youre hond; I am, and shal ben ay,
 God helpe me so, while that my lyf may dure,
 Youre owene aboven every creature.
 "Thus seyde I nevere er now to womman born,
 For God myn herte as wisly glade so,
 I loved never womman here-biforn
 As paramours, ne nevere shal no mo.
 And for the love of God, beth nat my fo,
160 Al kan I naught to yow, my lady deere,
 Compleyne aright, for I am yet to leere.
 "And wondreth nought, myn owen lady bright,
 Though that I speke of love to yow thus blyve;
 For I have herd er this of many a wight,
 Hath loved thyng he nevere saigh his lyve.
 Ek I am nat of power for to stryve
 Ayeyns the god of Love, but hym obeye
 I wole alwey; and mercy I yow preye.
 "Ther ben so worthi knyghtes in this place,
170 And ye so fayr, that everich of hem alle
 Wol peynen hym to stonden in youre grace.
 But myghte me so faire a grace falle,
 That ye me for youre servant wolde calle,
 So lowely ne so trewely yow serve
 Nil non of hem as I shal til I sterve."
 Criseyde unto that purpos lite answerde,
 As she that was with sorwe oppressed so
 That, in effect, she naught his tales herde
 But here and ther, now here a word or two.
180 Hire thoughte hire sorwful herte brast a-two,
 For whan she gan hire fader fer espie
 Wel neigh down of hire hors she gan to sye.
 But natheles she thonketh Diomede
 Of al his travaile and his goode cheere,
 And that hym list his frendshipe hire to bede;
 And she accepteth it in good manere,
 And wol do fayn that is hym lief and dere,
 And tristen hym she wolde, and wel she myghte,
 As seyde she; and from hire hors sh' alighte.
190 Hire fader hath hire in his armes nome,
 And twenty tyme he kiste his doughter sweete,
 And seyde, "O deere doughter myn, welcome!"
 She seyde ek she was fayn with hym to mete,
 And stood forth muwet, milde, and mansuete.
 But here I leve hire with hire fader dwelle,
 And forth I wol of Troilus yow telle.
 To Troie is come this woful Troilus,
 In sorwe aboven alle sorwes smerte,
 With feloun look and face dispitous.
200 Tho sodeynly doun from his hors he sterte,
 And thorugh his paleis, with a swollen herte,
 To chaumbre he wente; of nothyng took he hede,
 Ne non to hym dar speke a word for drede.
 And ther his sorwes that he spared hadde
 He yaf an issue large, and "Deth!" he criede;
 And in his throwes frenetik and madde
 He corseth Jove, Appollo, and ek Cupide;
 He corseth Ceres, Bacus, and Cipride,
 His burthe, hymself, his fate, and ek nature,
210 And, save his lady, every creature.
 To bedde he goth, and walwith ther and torneth
 In furie, as doth he Ixion in helle,
 And in this wise he neigh til day sojorneth.
 But tho bigan his herte a lite unswelle
 Thorugh teris, which that gonnen up to welle,
 And pitously he cryde upon Criseyde,
 And to hymself right thus he spak, and seyde,
 "Wher is myn owene lady, lief and deere?
 Wher is hire white brest? Wher is it, where?
220 Wher ben hire armes and hire eyen cleere
 That yesternyght this tyme with me were?
 Now may I wepe allone many a teere,
 And graspe aboute I may, but in this place,
 Save a pilowe, I fynde naught t' enbrace.
 "How shal I do? Whan shal she come ayeyn?
 I not, allas, whi lete ich hire to go;
 As wolde God ich hadde as tho ben sleyn!
 O herte myn, Criseyde, O swete fo!
 O lady myn, that I love and na mo,
230 To whom for evermo myn herte I dowe,
 Se how I dey, ye nyl me nat rescowe!
 "Who seth yow now, my righte lode-sterre?
 Who sit right now or stant in youre presence?
 Who kan conforten now youre hertes werre?
 Now I am gon, whom yeve ye audience?
 Who speketh for me right now in myn absence?
 Allas, no wight; and that is al my care,
 For wel woot I, as yvele as I ye fare.
 "How sholde I thus ten dayes ful endure,
240 Whan I the firste nyght have al this tene?
 How shal she don ek, sorwful creature?
 For tendernesse, how shal she sustene
 Swich wo for me? O pitous, pale, grene
 Shal ben youre fresshe, wommanliche face
 For langour, er ye torne unto this place."
 And whan he fil in any slomberynges,
 Anon bygynne he sholde for to grone
 And dremen of the dredefulleste thynges
 That myghte ben; as mete he were allone
250 In place horrible makyng ay his mone,
 Or meten that he was amonges alle
 His enemys, and in hire hondes falle.
 And therwithal his body sholde sterte,
 And with the stert al sodeynliche awake,
 And swich a tremour fele aboute his herte
 That of the fere his body sholde quake;
 And therwithal he sholde a noyse make,
 And seme as though he sholde falle depe
 From heighe o-lofte; and thanne he wolde wepe,
260 And rewen on hymself so pitously
 That wonder was to here his fantasie.
 Another tyme he sholde myghtyly
 Conforte hymself, and sein it was folie
 So causeles swich drede for to drye;
 And eft bygynne his aspre sorwes newe,
 That every man myght on his sorwes rewe.
 Who koude telle aright or ful discryve
 His wo, his pleynt, his langour, and his pyne?
 Naught alle the men that han or ben on lyve.
270 Thow, redere, maist thiself ful wel devyne
 That swich a wo my wit kan nat diffyne;
 On ydel for to write it sholde I swynke,
 Whan that my wit is wery it to thynke.
 On hevene yet the sterres weren seene,
 Although ful pale ywoxen was the moone,
 And whiten gan the orisonte shene
 Al estward, as it wont is for to doone;
 And Phebus with his rosy carte soone
 Gan after that to dresse hym up to fare
280 Whan Troilus hath sent after Pandare.
 This Pandare, that of al the day biforn
 Ne myghte han comen Troilus to se,
 Although he on his hed it hadde sworn --
 For with the kyng Priam al day was he,
 So that it lay nought in his libertee
 Nowher to gon -- but on the morwe he wente
 To Troilus, whan that he for hym sente.
 For in his herte he koude wel devyne
 That Troilus al nyght for sorwe wook;
290 And that he wolde telle hym of his pyne,
 This knew he wel ynough, withoute book.
 For which to chaumbre streght the wey he took,
 And Troilus tho sobrelich he grette,
 And on the bed ful sone he gan hym sette.
 "My Pandarus," quod Troilus, "the sorwe
 Which that I drye I may nat longe endure.
 I trowe I shal nat lyven til to-morwe.
 For which I wolde alweys, on aventure,
 To the devysen of my sepulture
300 The forme; and of my moeble thow dispone
 Right as the semeth best is for to done.
 "But of the fir and flaumbe funeral
 In which my body brennen shal to glede,
 And of the feste and pleyes palestral
 At my vigile, I prey the, tak good hede
 That that be wel; and offre Mars my steede,
 My swerd, myn helm; and, leve brother deere,
 My sheld to Pallas yef, that shyneth cleere.
 "The poudre in which myn herte ybrend shal torne,
310 That preye I the thow take and it conserve
 In a vessell that men clepeth an urne,
 Of gold, and to my lady that I serve,
 For love of whom thus pitouslich I sterve,
 So yeve it hire, and do me this plesaunce,
 To preyen hire kepe it for a remembraunce.
 "For wele I fele, by my maladie
 And by my dremes now and yore ago,
 Al certeynly that I mot nedes dye.
 The owle ek, which that hette Escaphilo,
320 Hath after me shright al thise nyghtes two.
 And god Mercurye, of me now, woful wrecche,
 The soule gyde, and whan the liste, it fecche!"
 Pandare answerde and seyde, "Troilus,
 My deere frend, as I have told the yore,
 That it is folye for to sorwen thus,
 And causeles, for which I kan namore.
 But whoso wil nought trowen reed ne loore,
 I kan nat sen in hym no remedie,
 But lat hym worthen with his fantasie.
330 "But, Troilus, I prey the, tel me now
 If that thow trowe er this that any wight
 Hath loved paramours as wel as thow?
 Ye, God woot, and fro many a worthi knyght
 Hath his lady gon a fourtenyght,
 And he nat yet made halvendel the fare.
 What nede is the to maken al this care?
 "Syn day by day thow maist thiselven se
 That from his love, or ellis from his wif,
 A man mot twynnen of necessite --
340 Ye, though he love hire as his owene lif --
 Yet nyl he with hymself thus maken strif.
 For wel thou woost, my leve brother deere,
 That alwey frendes may nat ben yfeere.
 "How don this folk that seen hire loves wedded
 By frendes myght, as it bitit ful ofte,
 And sen hem in hire spouses bed ybedded?
 God woot, they take it wisly, faire, and softe,
 Forwhi good hope halt up hire herte o-lofte.
 And for they kan a tyme of sorwe endure,
350 As tyme hem hurt, a tyme doth hem cure.
 "So shuldestow endure, and laten slide
 The tyme, and fonde to ben glad and light.
 Ten dayes nys so longe nought t' abide.
 And syn she the to comen hath bihyght,
 She nyl hire heste breken for no wight.
 For dred the nat that she nyl fynden weye
 To come ayein; my lif that dorste I leye.
 "Thi swevnes ek and al swich fantasie
 Drif out and lat hem faren to meschaunce,
360 For they procede of thi malencolie
 That doth the fele in slep al this penaunce.
 A straw for alle swevenes signifiaunce!
 God helpe me so, I counte hem nought a bene!
 Ther woot no man aright what dremes mene.
 "For prestes of the temple tellen this,
 That dremes ben the revelaciouns
 Of goddes, and as wel they telle, ywis,
 That they ben infernals illusiouns;
 And leches seyn that of complexiouns
370 Proceden they, or fast, or glotonye.
 Who woot in soth thus what thei signifie?
 "Ek oother seyn that thorugh impressiouns,
 As if a wight hath faste a thyng in mynde,
 That therof cometh swiche avysiouns;
 And other seyn, as they in bokes fynde,
 That after tymes of the yer, by kynde,
 Men dreme, and that th' effect goth by the moone.
 But leve no drem, for it is nought to doone.
 "Wel worth. of dremes ay thise olde wives,
380 And treweliche ek augurye of thise fowles,
 For fere of which men wenen lese here lyves,
 As revenes qualm, or shrichyng of thise owles.
 To trowen on it bothe fals and foul is.
 Allas, allas, so noble a creature
 As is a man shal dreden swich ordure!
 "For which with al myn herte I the biseche,
 Unto thiself that al this thow foryyve;
 And ris now up withowten more speche,
 And lat us caste how forth may best be dryve
390 This tyme, and ek how fresshly we may lyve
 Whan that she comth, the which shal be right soone.
 God helpe me so, the beste is thus to doone.
 "Ris, lat us speke of lusty lif in Troie
 That we han led, and forth the tyme dryve;
 And ek of tyme comyng us rejoie,
 That bryngen shal oure blisse now so blyve;
 And langour of thise twyes dayes fyve
 We shal therwith so foryete or oppresse
 That wel unneth it don shal us duresse.
400 "This town is ful of lordes al aboute,
 And trewes lasten al this mene while.
 Go we pleye us in som lusty route
 To Sarpedoun, nat hennes but a myle;
 And thus thow shalt the tyme wel bygile,
 And dryve it forth unto that blisful morwe
 That thow hire se, that cause is of thi sorwe.
 "Now ris, my deere brother Troilus,
 For certes it non honour is to the
 To wepe and in thi bedde to jouken thus;
410 For trewelich, of o thyng trust to me:
 If thow thus ligge a day, or two, or thre,
 The folk wol seyn that thow for cowardise
 The feynest sik, and that thow darst nat rise!"
 This Troilus answerde, "O brother deere,
 This knowen folk that han ysuffred peyne,
 That though he wepe and make sorwful cheere
 That feleth harm and smert in every veyne,
 No wonder is. and though ich evere pleyne,
 Or alwey wepe, I am no thyng to blame,
420 Syn I have lost the cause of al my game.
 "But syn of fyne force I mot arise,
 I shal arise as soone as evere I may;
 And God, to whom myn herte I sacrifice,
 So sende us hastely the tenthe day!
 For was ther nevere fowel so fayn of May
 As I shal ben whan that she comth in Troie
 That cause is of my torment and my joie.
 "But whider is thi reed," quod Troilus,
 "That we may pleye us best in al this town?"
430 "By God, my conseil is," quod Pandarus,
 "To ride and pleye us with kyng Sarpedoun."
 So longe of this they speken up and down
 Til Troilus gan at the laste assente
 To rise, and forth to Sarpedoun they wente.
 This Sarpedoun, as he that honourable
 Was evere his lyve, and ful of heigh largesse,
 With al that myghte yserved ben on table
 That deynte was, al coste it gret richesse,
 He fedde hem day by day, that swich noblesse,
440 As seyden bothe the mooste and ek the leeste,
 Was nevere er that day wist at any feste.
 Nor in this world ther is non instrument
 Delicious, thorugh wynd or touche of corde,
 As fer as any wight hath evere ywent,
 That tonge telle or herte may recorde,
 That at that feste it nas wel herd acorde;
 Ne of ladys ek so fair a compaignie
 On daunce, er tho, was nevere iseye with ie.
 But what availeth this to Troilus,
450 That for his sorwe nothyng of it roughte?
 For evere in oon his herte pietous
 Ful bisyly Criseyde, his lady, soughte.
 On hire was evere al that his herte thoughte,
 Now this, now that, so faste ymagenynge
 That glade, iwis, kan hym no festeyinge.
 Thise ladies ek that at this feste ben,
 Syn that he saugh his lady was aweye,
 It was his sorwe upon hem for to sen,
 Or for to here on instrumentes pleye.
460 For she that of his herte berth the keye
 Was absent, lo, this was his fantasie --
 That no wight sholde maken melodie.
 Nor ther nas houre in al the day or nyght,
 Whan he was there as no wight myghte hym heere,
 That he ne seyde, "O lufsom lady bryght,
 How have ye faren syn that ye were here?
 Welcome, ywis, myn owne lady deere!"
 But weylaway, al this nat but a maze.
 Fortune his howve entended bet to glaze!
470 The lettres ek that she of olde tyme
 Hadde hym ysent, he wolde allone rede
 An hondred sithe atwixen noon and prime,
 Refiguryng hire shap, hire wommanhede,
 Withinne his herte, and every word or dede
 That passed was; and thus he drof t' an ende
 The ferthe day, and seyde he wolde wende.
 And seyde, "Leve brother Pandarus,
 Intendestow that we shal here bleve
 Til Sarpedoun wol forth congeyen us?
480 Yet were it fairer that we toke oure leve.
 For Goddes love, lat us now soone at eve
 Oure leve take, and homward lat us torne,
 For treweliche, I nyl nat thus sojourne."
 Pandare answerde, "Be we comen hider
 To fecchen fir and rennen hom ayein?
 God help me so, I kan nat tellen whider
 We myghte gon, if I shal sothly seyn,
 Ther any wight is of us more feyn
 Than Sarpedoun; and if we hennes hye
490 Thus sodeynly, I holde it vilanye.
 "Syn that we seyden that we wolde bleve
 With hym a wowke, and now, thus sodeynly,
 The ferthe day to take of hym owre leve --
 He wolde wondren on it, trewely!
 Lat us holden forth oure purpos fermely;
 And syn that ye bihighten hym to bide,
 Holde forward now, and after lat us ride."
 Thus Pandarus, with alle peyne and wo,
 Made hym to dwelle; and at the wikes ende
500 Of Sarpedoun they toke hire leve tho,
 And on hire wey they spedden hem to wende.
 Quod Troilus, "Now Lord me grace sende,
 That I may fynden at myn hom-comynge
 Criseyde comen!" And therwith gan he synge.
 "Ye, haselwode!" thoughte this Pandare,
 And to hymself ful softeliche he seyde,
 "God woot, refreyden may this hote fare,
 Er Calkas sende Troilus Criseyde!"
 But natheles, he japed thus, and pleyde,
510 And swor, ywys, his herte hym wel bihighte
 She wolde come as soone as evere she myghte.
 Whan they unto the paleys were ycomen
 Of Troilus, they doun of hors alighte,
 And to the chambre hire wey than han they nomen;
 And into tyme that it gan to nyghte
 They spaken of Criseyde the brighte;
 And after this, whan that hem bothe leste,
 They spedde hem fro the soper unto reste.
 On morwe, as soone as day bygan to clere,
520 This Troilus gan of his slep t' abrayde,
 And to Pandare, his owen brother deere,
 "For love of God," ful pitously he sayde,
 "As go we sen the palais of Criseyde;
 For syn we yet may have namore feste,
 So lat us sen hire paleys atte leeste."
 And therwithal, his meyne for to blende,
 A cause he fond in towne for to go,
 And to Criseydes hous they gonnen wende.
 But Lord, this sely Troilus was wo!
530 Hym thoughte his sorwful herte braste a-two.
 For whan he saugh hire dores spered alle,
 Wel neigh for sorwe adoun he gan to falle.
 Therwith, whan he was war and gan biholde
 How shet was every wyndow of the place,
 As frost, hym thoughte, his herte gan to colde;
 For which with chaunged dedlich pale face,
 Withouten word, he forthby gan to pace,
 And as God wolde, he gan so faste ride
 That no wight of his contenance espide.
540 Than seide he thus: "O paleys desolat,
 O hous of houses whilom best ihight,
 O paleys empty and disconsolat,
 O thow lanterne of which queynt is the light,
 O paleys, whilom day, that now art nyght,
 Wel oughtestow to falle, and I to dye,
 Syn she is went that wont was us to gye!
 "O paleis, whilom crowne of houses alle,
 Enlumyned with sonne of alle blisse!
 O ryng, fro which the ruby is out falle,
550 O cause of wo, that cause hast ben of lisse!
 Yet, syn I may no bet, fayn wolde I kisse
 Thy colde dores, dorste I for this route;
 And farwel shryne, of which the seynt is oute!"
 Therwith he caste on Pandarus his ye,
 With chaunged face, and pitous to biholde;
 And whan he myghte his tyme aright aspie,
 Ay as he rood to Pandarus he tolde
 His newe sorwe and ek his joies olde,
 So pitously and with so ded an hewe
560 That every wight myghte on his sorwe rewe.
 Fro thennesforth he rideth up and down,
 And every thyng com hym to remembraunce
 As he rood forby places of the town
 In which he whilom hadde al his plesaunce.
 "Lo, yonder saugh ich last my lady daunce;
 And in that temple, with hire eyen cleere,
 Me kaughte first my righte lady dere.
 "And yonder have I herd ful lustyly
 My dere herte laugh; and yonder pleye
570 Saugh ich hire ones ek ful blisfully;
 And yonder ones to me gan she seye,
 `Now goode swete, love me wel, I preye';
 And yond so goodly gan she me biholde
 That to the deth myn herte is to hire holde.
 "And at that corner, in the yonder hous,
 Herde I myn alderlevest lady deere
 So wommanly, with vois melodious,
 Syngen so wel, so goodly, and so cleere
 That in my soule yet me thynketh ich here
580 The blisful sown; and in that yonder place
 My lady first me took unto hire grace."
 Thanne thoughte he thus: "O blisful lord Cupide,
 Whan I the proces have in my memorie
 How thow me hast wereyed on every syde,
 Men myght a book make of it, lik a storie.
 What nede is the to seke on me victorie,
 Syn I am thyn and holly at thi wille?
 What joie hastow thyn owen folk to spille?
 "Wel hastow, lord, ywroke on me thyn ire,
590 Thow myghty god, and dredefull for to greve!
 Now mercy, lord! Thow woost wel I desire
 Thi grace moost of alle lustes leeve,
 And lyve and dye I wol in thy byleve;
 For which I n' axe in guerdoun but o bone --
 That thow Criseyde ayein me sende sone.
 "Destreyne hire herte as faste to retorne
 As thow doost myn to longen hire to see;
 Than woot I wel that she nyl naught sojorne.
 Now blisful lord, so cruel thow ne be
600 Unto the blood of Troie, I preye the,
 As Juno was unto the blood Thebane,
 For which the folk of Thebes caughte hire bane."
 And after this he to the yates wente
 Ther as Criseyde out rood a ful good paas,
 And up and down ther made he many a wente,
 And to hymself ful ofte he seyde, "Allas,
 Fro hennes rood my blisse and my solas!
 As wolde blisful God now, for his joie,
 I myghte hire sen ayein come into Troie!
610 "And to the yonder hille I gan hire gyde,
 Allas, and ther I took of hire my leve!
 And yond I saugh hire to hire fader ride,
 For sorwe of which myn herte shal tocleve;
 And hider hom I com whan it was eve,
 And here I dwelle out cast from alle joie,
 And shal, til I may sen hire eft in Troie."
 And of hymself ymagened he ofte
 To ben defet, and pale, and waxen lesse
 Than he was wont, and that men seyden softe,
620 "What may it be? Who kan the sothe gesse
 Whi Troilus hath al this hevynesse?"
 And al this nas but his malencolie,
 That he hadde of hymself swich fantasie.
 Another tyme ymaginen he wolde
 That every wight that wente by the weye
 Hadde of hym routhe, and that they seyen sholde,
 "I am right sory Troilus wol deye."
 And thus he drof a day yet forth or tweye,
 As ye have herd; swich lif right gan he lede
630 As he that stood bitwixen hope and drede.
 For which hym likede in his songes shewe
 Th' enchesoun of his wo, as he best myghte;
 And made a song of wordes but a fewe,
 Somwhat his woful herte for to lighte;
 And whan he was from every mannes syghte,
 With softe vois he of his lady deere,
 That absent was, gan synge as ye may heere:
 "O sterre, of which I lost have al the light,
 With herte soor wel oughte I to biwaille
640 That evere derk in torment, nyght by nyght,
 Toward my deth with wynd in steere I saille;
 For which the tenthe nyght, if that I faille
 The gydyng of thi bemes bright an houre,
 My ship and me Caribdis wol devoure."
 This song whan he thus songen hadde, soone
 He fil ayeyn into his sikes olde;
 And every nyght, as was his wone to doone,
 He stood the brighte moone to byholde,
 And al his sorwe he to the moone tolde,
650 And seyde, "Ywis, whan thow art horned newe,
 I shal be glad, if al the world be trewe!
 "I saugh thyn hornes olde ek by the morwe
 Whan hennes rood my righte lady dere
 That cause is of my torment and my sorwe;
 For which, O brighte Latona the clere,
 For love of God, ren faste aboute thy spere!
 For whan thyne hornes newe gynnen sprynge,
 Than shal she come that may my blisse brynge."
 The dayes moore and lenger every nyght
660 Than they ben wont to be, hym thoughte tho,
 And that the sonne went his cours unright
 By lenger weye than it was wont to do;
 And seyde, "Ywis, me dredeth evere mo
 The sonnes sone, Pheton, be on lyve,
 And that his fader carte amys he dryve."
 Upon the walles faste ek wolde he walke,
 And on the Grekis oost he wolde se;
 And to hymself right thus he wolde talke:
 "Lo, yonder is myn owene lady free,
670 Or ellis yonder, ther tho tentes be;
 And thennes comth this eyr, that is so soote
 That in my soule I fele it doth me boote.
 "And hardily, this wynd that more and moore
 Thus stoundemele encresseth in my face
 Is of my ladys depe sikes soore.
 I preve it thus: for in noon other place
 Of al this town, save onliche in this space,
 Fele I no wynd that sowneth so lik peyne;
 It seyth, `Allas! Whi twynned be we tweyne?'"
680 This longe tyme he dryveth forth right thus
 Til fully passed was the nynthe nyght;
 And ay bisyde hym was this Pandarus,
 That bisily did al his fulle myght
 Hym to conforte and make his herte light,
 Yevyng hym hope alwey the tenthe morwe
 That she shal come and stynten al his sorwe.
 Upon that other syde ek was Criseyde,
 With wommen fewe, among the Grekis stronge,
 For which ful ofte a day "Allas," she seyde,
690 "That I was born! Wel may myn herte longe
 After my deth, for now lyve I to longe.
 Allas, and I ne may it nat amende,
 For now is wors than evere yet I wende!
 "My fader nyl for nothyng do me grace
 To gon ayeyn, for naught I kan hym queme;
 And if so be that I my terme pace,
 My Troilus shal in his herte deme
 That I am fals, and so it may wel seme:
 Thus shal ich have unthonk on every side --
700 That I was born so weilaway the tide!
 "And if that I me putte in jupartie
 To stele awey by nyght, and it bifalle
 That I be kaught, I shal be holde a spie;
 Or elles -- lo, this drede I moost of alle --
 If in the hondes of som wrecche I falle,
 I nam but lost, al be myn herte trewe.
 Now, myghty God, thow on my sorwe rewe!"
 Ful pale ywoxen was hire brighte face,
 Hire lymes lene, as she that al the day
710 Stood, whan she dorste, and loked on the place
 Ther she was born, and ther she dwelt hadde ay;
 And al the nyght wepyng, allas, she lay.
 And thus despeired, out of alle cure,
 She ladde hire lif, this woful creature.
 Ful ofte a day she sighte ek for destresse,
 And in hireself she wente ay purtraynge
 Of Troilus the grete worthynesse,
 And al his goodly wordes recordynge
 Syn first that day hire love bigan to springe.
720 And thus she sette hire woful herte afire
 Thorugh remembraunce of that she gan desire.
 In al this world ther nys so cruel herte
 That hire hadde herd compleynen in hire sorwe
 That nolde han wepen for hire peynes smerte,
 So tendrely she weep, bothe eve and morwe.
 Hire nedede no teris for to borwe!
 And this was yet the werste of al hire peyne:
 Ther was no wight to whom she dorste hire pleyne.
 Ful rewfully she loked upon Troie,
730 Biheld the toures heigh and ek the halles;
 "Allas," quod she, "the plesance and the joie,
 The which that now al torned into galle is,
 Have ich had ofte withinne yonder walles!
 O Troilus, what dostow now?" she seyde.
 "Lord, wheyther thow yet thenke upon Criseyde?
 "Allas, I ne hadde trowed on youre loore
 And went with yow, as ye me redde er this!
 Than hadde I now nat siked half so soore.
 Who myghte han seyd that I hadde don amys
740 To stele awey with swich oon as he ys.
 But al to late comth the letuarie
 Whan men the cors unto the grave carie.
 "To late is now to speke of that matere.
 Prudence, allas, oon of thyne eyen thre
 Me lakked alwey, er that I come here!
 On tyme ypassed wel remembred me,
 And present tyme ek koud ich wel ise,
 But future tyme, er I was in the snare,
 Koude I nat sen; that causeth now my care.
750 "But natheles, bityde what bityde,
 I shal to-morwe at nyght, by est or west,
 Out of this oost stele in som manere syde,
 And gon with Troilus where as hym lest.
 This purpos wol ich holde, and this is best.
 No fors of wikked tonges janglerie,
 For evere on love han wrecches had envye.
 "For whoso wol of every word take hede,
 Or reulen hym by every wightes wit,
 Ne shal he nevere thryven, out of drede;
760 For that that som men blamen evere yit,
 Lo, other manere folk comenden it.
 And as for me, for al swich variaunce,
 Felicite clepe I my suffisaunce.
 "For which, withouten any wordes mo,
 To Troie I wole, as for conclusioun."
 But God it wot, er fully monthes two,
 She was ful fer fro that entencioun!
 For bothe Troilus and Troie town
 Shal knotteles thorughout hire herte slide;
770 For she wol take a purpos for t' abide.
 This Diomede, of whom yow telle I gan,
 Goth now withinne hymself ay arguynge,
 With al the sleghte and al that evere he kan,
 How he may best, with shortest taryinge,
 Into his net Criseydes herte brynge.
 To this entent he koude nevere fyne;
 To fisshen hire he leyde out hook and lyne.
 But natheles, wel in his herte he thoughte
 That she nas nat withoute a love in Troie,
780 For nevere sythen he hire thennes broughte
 Ne koude he sen hire laughe or maken joie.
 He nyst how best hire herte for t' acoye;
 "But for t' asay," he seyde, "it naught n' agreveth,
 For he that naught n' asaieth naught n' acheveth."
 Yet seyde he to hymself upon a nyght,
 "Now am I nat a fool, that woot wel how
 Hire wo for love is of another wight,
 And hereupon to gon assaye hire now?
 I may wel wite it nyl nat ben my prow,
790 For wise folk in bookes it expresse,
 `Men shal nat wowe a wight in hevynesse.'
 "But whoso myghte wynnen swich a flour
 From hym for whom she morneth nyght and day,
 He myghte seyn he were a conquerour."
 And right anon, as he that bold was ay,
 Thoughte in his herte, "Happe how happe may,
 Al sholde I dye, I wol hire herte seche!
 I shal namore lesen but my speche."
 This Diomede, as bokes us declare,
800 Was in his nedes prest and corageous,
 With sterne vois and myghty lymes square,
 Hardy, testif, strong, and chivalrous
 Of dedes, lik his fader Tideus.
 And som men seyn he was of tonge large;
 And heir he was of Calydoigne and Arge.
 Criseyde mene was of hire stature;
 Therto of shap, of face, and ek of cheere,
 Ther myghte ben no fairer creature.
 And ofte tymes this was hire manere:
810 To gon ytressed with hire heres clere
 Doun by hire coler at hire bak byhynde,
 Which with a thred of gold she wolde bynde;
 And, save hire browes joyneden yfeere,
 Ther nas no lak, in aught I kan espien.
 But for to speken of hire eyen cleere,
 Lo, trewely, they writen that hire syen
 That Paradis stood formed in hire yen.
 And with hire riche beaute evere more
 Strof love in hire ay, which of hem was more.
820 She sobre was, ek symple, and wys withal,
 The best ynorisshed ek that myghte be,
 And goodly of hire speche in general,
 Charitable, estatlich, lusty, fre;
 Ne nevere mo ne lakked hire pite;
 Tendre-herted, slydynge of corage;
 But trewely, I kan nat telle hire age.
 And Troilus wel woxen was in highte,
 And complet formed by proporcioun
 So wel that kynde it nought amenden myghte;
830 Yong, fressh, strong, and hardy as lyoun;
 Trewe as stiel in ech condicioun;
 Oon of the beste entecched creature
 That is or shal whil that the world may dure.
 And certeynly in storye it is yfounde
 That Troilus was nevere unto no wight,
 As in his tyme, in no degree secounde
 In durryng don that longeth to a knyght.
 Al myghte a geant passen hym of myght,
 His herte ay with the first and with the beste
840 Stood paregal, to durre don that hym leste.
 But for to tellen forth of Diomede:
 It fel that after, on the tenthe day
 Syn that Criseyde out of the citee yede,
 This Diomede, as fressh as braunche in May,
 Com to the tente ther as Calkas lay,
 And feyned hym with Calkas han to doone;
 But what he mente, I shal yow tellen soone.
 Criseyde, at shorte wordes for to telle,
 Welcomed hym and down hym by hire sette --
850 And he was ethe ynough to maken dwelle!
 And after this, withouten longe lette,
 The spices and the wyn men forth hem fette;
 And forth they speke of this and that yfeere,
 As frendes don, of which som shal ye heere.
 He gan first fallen of the werre in speche
 Bitwixe hem and the folk of Troie town;
 And of th' assege he gan hire ek biseche
 To telle hym what was hire opynyoun;
 Fro that demaunde he so descendeth down
860 To axen hire if that hire straunge thoughte
 The Grekis gise and werkes that they wroughte;
 And whi hire fader tarieth so longe
 To wedden hire unto som worthy wight.
 Criseyde, that was in hire peynes stronge
 For love of Troilus, hire owen knyght,
 As ferforth as she konnyng hadde or myght
 Answerde hym tho; but as of his entente,
 It semed nat she wiste what he mente.
 But natheles, this ilke Diomede
870 Gan in hymself assure, and thus he seyde:
 "If ich aright have taken of yow hede,
 Me thynketh thus, O lady myn, Criseyde,
 That syn I first hond on youre bridel leyde,
 Whan ye out come of Troie by the morwe,
 Ne koude I nevere sen yow but in sorwe.
 "Kan I nat seyn what may the cause be,
 But if for love of som Troian it were,
 The which right sore wolde athynken me
 That ye for any wight that dwelleth there
880 Sholden spille a quarter of a tere
 Or pitously youreselven so bigile --
 For dredeles, it is nought worth the while.
 "The folk of Troie, as who seyth, alle and some
 In prisoun ben, as ye youreselven se;
 Nor thennes shal nat oon on-lyve come
 For al the gold atwixen sonne and se.
 Trusteth wel, and understondeth me,
 Ther shal nat oon to mercy gon on-lyve,
 Al were he lord of worldes twies fyve!
890 "Swich wreche on hem for fecchynge of Eleyne
 Ther shal ben take, er that we hennes wende,
 That Manes, which that goddes ben of peyne,
 Shal ben agast that Grekes wol hem shende,
 And men shul drede, unto the worldes ende,
 From hennesforth to ravysshen any queene,
 So cruel shal oure wreche on hem be seene.
 "And but if Calkas lede us with ambages --
 That is to seyn, with double wordes slye,
 Swiche as men clepen a word with two visages --
900 Ye shal wel knowen that I naught ne lie,
 And al this thyng right sen it with youre ye,
 And that anon, ye nyl nat trowe how sone;
 Now taketh hede, for it is for to doone.
 "What! Wene ye youre wise fader wolde
 Han yeven Antenor for yow anon,
 If he ne wiste that the cite sholde
 Destroied ben? Whi, nay, so mote I gon!
 He knew ful wel ther shal nat scapen oon
 That Troian is. and for the grete feere
910 He dorste nat ye dwelte lenger there.
 "What wol ye more, lufsom lady deere?
 Lat Troie and Troian fro youre herte pace!
 Drif out that bittre hope, and make good cheere,
 And clepe ayeyn the beaute of youre face
 That ye with salte teris so deface,
 For Troie is brought in swich a jupartie
 That it to save is now no remedie.
 "And thenketh wel, ye shal in Grekis fynde
 A moore parfit love, er it be nyght,
920 Than any Troian is, and more kynde,
 And bet to serven yow wol don his myght.
 And if ye vouchesauf, my lady bright,
 I wol ben he to serven yow myselve,
 Yee, levere than be kyng of Greces twelve!"
 And with that word he gan to waxen red,
 And in his speche a litel wight he quok,
 And caste asyde a litel wight his hed,
 And stynte a while; and afterward he wok,
 And sobreliche on hire he threw his lok,
930 And seyde, "I am, al be it yow no joie,
 As gentil man as any wight in Troie.
 "For if my fader Tideus," he seyde,
 "Ilyved hadde, ich hadde ben er this
 Of Calydoyne and Arge a kyng, Criseyde!
 And so hope I that I shal yet, iwis.
 But he was slayn -- allas, the more harm is. --
 Unhappily at Thebes al to rathe,
 Polymyte and many a man to scathe.
 "But herte myn, syn that I am youre man --
940 And ben the first of whom I seche grace --
 To serve yow as hertely as I kan,
 And evere shal whil I to lyve have space,
 So, er that I departe out of this place,
 Ye wol me graunte that I may to-morwe,
 At bettre leyser, telle yow my sorwe."
 What sholde I telle his wordes that he seyde?
 He spak inough for o day at the meeste.
 It preveth wel; he spak so that Criseyde
 Graunted on the morwe, at his requeste,
950 For to speken with hym at the leeste --
 So that he nolde speke of swich matere.
 And thus to hym she seyde, as ye may here,
 As she that hadde hire herte on Troilus
 So faste that ther may it non arace;
 And strangely she spak, and seyde thus:
 "O Diomede, I love that ilke place
 Ther I was born; and Joves, for his grace,
 Delyvere it soone of al that doth it care!
 God, for thy myght, so leve it wel to fare!
960 "That Grekis wolde hire wrath on Troie wreke,
 If that they myght, I knowe it wel, iwis;
 But it shal naught byfallen as ye speke,
 And God toforn! And forther over this,
 I woot my fader wys and redy is,
 And that he me hath bought, as ye me tolde,
 So deere, I am the more unto hym holde.
 "That Grekis ben of heigh condicioun
 I woot ek wel; but certeyn, men shal fynde
 As worthi folk withinne Troie town,
970 As konnyng, and as parfit, and as kynde,
 As ben bitwixen Orkades and Inde;
 And that ye koude wel yowre lady serve,
 I trowe ek wel, hire thank for to deserve.
 "But as to speke of love, ywis," she seyde,
 "I hadde a lord, to whom I wedded was,
 The whos myn herte al was, til that he deyde;
 And other love, as help me now Pallas,
 Ther in myn herte nys, ne nevere was.
 And that ye ben of noble and heigh kynrede,
980 I have wel herd it tellen, out of drede.
 "And that doth me to han so gret a wonder
 That ye wol scornen any womman so.
 Ek, God woot, love and I ben fer ysonder!
 I am disposed bet, so mot I go,
 Unto my deth, to pleyne and maken wo.
 What I shal after don I kan nat seye;
 But trewelich, as yet me list nat pleye.
 "Myn herte is now in tribulacioun,
 And ye in armes bisy day by day.
990 Herafter, whan ye wonnen han the town,
 Peraventure so it happen may
 That whan I se that nevere yit I say
 Than wol I werke that I nevere wroughte!
 This word to yow ynough suffisen oughte.
 "To-morwe ek wol I speken with yow fayn,
 So that ye touchen naught of this matere.
 And whan yow list, ye may come here ayayn;
 And er ye gon, thus muche I sey yow here:
 As help me Pallas with hire heres clere,
1000 If that I sholde of any Grek han routhe,
 It sholde be youreselven, by my trouthe!
 "I say nat therfore that I wol yow love,
 N' y say nat nay; but in conclusioun,
 I mene wel, by God that sit above!"
 And therwithal she caste hire eyen down,
 And gan to sike, and seyde, "O Troie town,
 Yet bidde I God in quiete and in reste
 I may yow sen, or do myn herte breste."
 But in effect, and shortly for to seye,
1010 This Diomede al fresshly newe ayeyn
 Gan pressen on, and faste hire mercy preye;
 And after this, the sothe for to seyn,
 Hire glove he took, of which he was ful feyn;
 And finaly, whan it was woxen eve
 And al was wel, he roos and tok his leve.
 The brighte Venus folwede and ay taughte
 The wey ther brode Phebus down alighte;
 And Cynthea hire char-hors overraughte
 To whirle out of the Leoun, if she myghte;
1020 And Signifer his candels sheweth brighte
 Whan that Criseyde unto hire bedde wente
 Inwith hire fadres faire brighte tente,
 Retornyng in hire soule ay up and down
 The wordes of this sodeyn Diomede,
 His grete estat, and perel of the town,
 And that she was allone and hadde nede
 Of frendes help; and thus bygan to brede
 The cause whi, the sothe for to telle,
 That she took fully purpos for to dwelle.
1030 The morwen com, and gostly for to speke,
 This Diomede is come unto Criseyde;
 And shortly, lest that ye my tale breke,
 So wel he for hymselven spak and seyde
 That alle hire sikes soore adown he leyde;
 And finaly, the sothe for to seyne,
 He refte hire of the grete of al hire peyne.
 And after this the storie telleth us
 That she hym yaf the faire baye stede
 The which he ones wan of Troilus;
1040 And ek a broche -- and that was litel nede --
 That Troilus was, she yaf this Diomede.
 And ek, the bet from sorwe hym to releve,
 She made hym were a pencel of hire sleve.
 I fynde ek in stories elleswhere,
 Whan thorugh the body hurt was Diomede
 Of Troilus, tho wep she many a teere
 Whan that she saugh his wyde wowndes blede,
 And that she took, to kepen hym, good hede;
 And for to helen hym of his sorwes smerte,
1050 Men seyn -- I not -- that she yaf hym hire herte.
 But trewely, the storie telleth us,
 Ther made nevere womman moore wo
 Than she, whan that she falsed Troilus.
 She seyde, "Allas, for now is clene ago
 My name of trouthe in love, for everemo!
 For I have falsed oon the gentileste
 That evere was, and oon the worthieste!
 "Allas, of me, unto the worldes ende,
 Shal neyther ben ywriten nor ysonge
1060 No good word, for thise bokes wol me shende.
 O, rolled shal I ben on many a tonge!
 Thorughout the world my belle shal be ronge!
 And wommen moost wol haten me of alle.
 Allas, that swich a cas me sholde falle!
 "Thei wol seyn, in as muche as in me is,
 I have hem don dishonour, weylaway!
 Al be I nat the first that dide amys,
 What helpeth that to don my blame awey?
 But syn I se ther is no bettre way,
1070 And that to late is now for me to rewe,
 To Diomede algate I wol be trewe.
 "But, Troilus, syn I no bettre may,
 And syn that thus departen ye and I,
 Yet prey I God, so yeve yow right good day,
 As for the gentileste, trewely,
 That evere I say, to serven feythfully,
 And best kan ay his lady honour kepe."
 And with that word she brast anon to wepe.
 "And certes yow ne haten shal I nevere;
1080 And frendes love, that shal ye han of me,
 And my good word, al sholde I lyven evere.
 And trewely I wolde sory be
 For to seen yow in adversitee;
 And gilteles, I woot wel, I yow leve.
 But al shal passe; and thus take I my leve."
 But trewely, how longe it was bytwene
 That she forsok hym for this Diomede,
 Ther is non auctour telleth it, I wene.
 Take every man now to his bokes heede,
1090 He shal no terme fynden, out of drede.
 For though that he bigan to wowe hire soone,
 Er he hire wan, yet was ther more to doone.
 Ne me ne list this sely womman chyde
 Forther than the storye wol devyse.
 Hire name, allas, is publysshed so wide
 That for hire gilt it oughte ynough suffise.
 And if I myghte excuse hire any wise,
 For she so sory was for hire untrouthe,
 Iwis, I wolde excuse hire yet for routhe.
1100 This Troilus, as I byfore have told,
 Thus driveth forth, as wel as he hath myght;
 But often was his herte hoot and cold,
 And namely that ilke nynthe nyght,
 Which on the morwe she hadde hym bihight
 To com ayeyn. God woot, ful litel reste
 Hadde he that nyght -- nothyng to slepe hym leste.
 The laurer-crowned Phebus with his heete
 Gan, in his cours ay upward as he wente,
 To warmen of the est se the wawes weete,
1110 And Nysus doughter song with fressh entente,
 Whan Troilus his Pandare after sente;
 And on the walles of the town they pleyde,
 To loke if they kan sen aught of Criseyde.
 Tyl it was noon they stoden for to se
 Who that ther come, and every maner wight
 That com fro fer, they seyden it was she --
 Til that thei koude knowen hym aright.
 Now was his herte dul, now was it light.
 And thus byjaped stonden for to stare
1120 Aboute naught this Troilus and Pandare.
 To Pandarus this Troilus tho seyde,
 "For aught I woot, byfor noon, sikirly,
 Into this town ne comth nat here Criseyde.
 She hath ynough to doone, hardyly,
 To wynnen from hire fader, so trowe I.
 Hire olde fader wol yet make hire dyne
 Er that she go -- God yeve hys herte pyne!"
 Pandare answerede, "It may wel be, certeyn.
 And forthi lat us dyne, I the byseche,
1130 And after noon than maystow come ayeyn."
 And hom they go, withoute more speche,
 And comen ayeyn -- but longe may they seche
 Er that they fynde that they after cape.
 Fortune hem bothe thenketh for to jape!
 Quod Troilus, "I se wel now that she
 Is taried with hire olde fader so,
 That er she come, it wol neigh even be.
 Com forth; I wol unto the yate go.
 Thise porters ben unkonnyng evere mo,
1140 And I wol don hem holden up the yate
 As naught ne were, although she come late."
 The day goth faste, and after that com eve,
 And yet com nought to Troilus Criseyde.
 He loketh forth by hegge, by tre, by greve,
 And fer his hed over the wal he leyde;
 And at the laste he torned hym and seyde,
 "By God, I woot hire menyng now, Pandare!
 Almoost, ywys, al newe was my care.
 "Now douteles, this lady kan hire good;
1150 I woot she meneth riden pryvely.
 I comende hire wisdom, by myn hood!
 She wol nat maken peple nycely
 Gaure on hire whan she comth, but softely
 By nyghte into the town she thenketh ride.
 And, deere brother, thynk nat longe t' abide.
 "We han naught elles for to don, ywis.
 And Pandarus, now woltow trowen me?
 Have here my trouthe, I se hire! Yond she is.
 Heve up thyn eyen, man! Maistow nat se?"
1160 Pandare answerede, "Nay, so mote I the!
 Al wrong, by God! What saistow, man? Where arte?
 That I se yond nys but a fare-carte."
 "Allas, thow seyst right soth," quod Troilus.
 "But, hardily, it is naught al for nought
 That in myn herte I now rejoysse thus;
 It is ayeyns som good I have a thought.
 Not I nat how, but syn that I was wrought
 Ne felte I swich a comfort, dar I seye;
 She comth to-nyght, my lif that dorste I leye!"
1170 Pandare answerde, "It may be, wel ynough,"
 And held with hym of al that evere he seyde.
 But in his herte he thoughte, and softe lough,
 And to hymself ful sobreliche he seyde,
 "From haselwode, there joly Robyn pleyde,
 Shal come al that that thow abidest heere.
 Ye, fare wel al the snow of ferne yere!"
 The warden of the yates gan to calle
 The folk which that withoute the yates were,
 And bad hem dryven in hire bestes alle,
1180 Or all the nyght they moste bleven there.
 And fer withinne the nyght, with many a teere,
 This Troilus gan homward for to ride,
 For wel he seth it helpeth naught t' abide.
 But natheles, he gladed hym in this:
 He thought he misacounted hadde his day,
 And seyde, "I understonde have al amys.
 For thilke nyght I last Criseyde say,
 She seyde, `I shal ben here, if that I may,
 Er that the moone, O deere herte swete,
1190 The Leoun passe, out of this Ariete.'
 "For which she may yet holde al hire byheste."
 And on the morwe unto the yate he wente,
 And up and down, by west and ek by este,
 Upon the walles made he many a wente.
 But al for nought; his hope alwey hym blente.
 For which at nyght, in sorwe and sikes sore,
 He wente hym hom, withouten any more.
 His hope al clene out of his herte fledde;
 He nath wheron now lenger for to honge;
1200 But for the peyne hym thoughte his herte bledde,
 So were his throwes sharpe and wonder stronge;
 For whan he saugh that she abood so longe,
 He nyste what he juggen of it myghte,
 Syn she hath broken that she hym bihighte.
 The thridde, ferthe, fifte, sexte day
 After tho dayes ten of which I tolde,
 Bitwixen hope and drede his herte lay,
 Yet somwhat trustyng on hire hestes olde.
 But whan he saugh she nolde hire terme holde,
1210 He kan now sen non other remedie
 But for to shape hym soone for to dye.
 Therwith the wikked spirit, God us blesse,
 Which that men clepeth woode jalousie,
 Gan in hym crepe, in al this hevynesse;
 For which, by cause he wolde soone dye,
 He ne et ne drank, for his malencolye,
 And ek from every compaignye he fledde:
 This was the lif that al the tyme he ledde.
 He so defet was, that no manere man
1220 Unneth hym myghte knowen ther he wente;
 So was he lene, and therto pale and wan,
 And feble, that he walketh by potente;
 And with his ire he thus hymselve shente.
 But whoso axed hym wherof hym smerte,
 He seyde his harm was al aboute his herte.
 Priam ful ofte, and ek his moder deere,
 His bretheren and his sustren gonne hym freyne
 Whi he so sorwful was in al his cheere,
 And what thyng was the cause of al his peyne;
1230 But al for naught. He nolde his cause pleyne,
 But seyde he felte a grevous maladie
 Aboute his herte, and fayn he wolde dye.
 So on a day he leyde hym doun to slepe,
 And so byfel that yn his slep hym thoughte
 That in a forest faste he welk to wepe
 For love of here that hym these peynes wroughte;
 And up and doun as he the forest soughte,
 He mette he saugh a bor with tuskes grete,
 That slepte ayeyn the bryghte sonnes hete.
1240 And by this bor, faste in his armes folde,
 Lay, kyssyng ay, his lady bryght, Criseyde.
 For sorwe of which, whan he it gan byholde,
 And for despit, out of his slep he breyde,
 And loude he cride on Pandarus, and seyde:
 "O Pandarus, now know I crop and roote.
 I n' am but ded; ther nys noon other bote.
 "My lady bryght, Criseyde, hath me bytrayed,
 In whom I trusted most of ony wight.
 She elliswhere hath now here herte apayed.
1250 The blysful goddes thorugh here grete myght
 Han in my drem yshewed it ful right.
 Thus yn my drem Criseyde have I byholde" --
 And al this thing to Pandarus he tolde.
 "O my Criseyde, allas, what subtilte,
 What newe lust, what beaute, what science,
 What wratthe of juste cause have ye to me?
 What gilt of me, what fel experience
 Hath fro me raft, allas, thyn advertence?
 O trust, O feyth, O depe asseuraunce!
1260 Who hath me reft Criseyde, al my plesaunce?
 "Allas, whi leet I you from hennes go,
 For which wel neigh out of my wit I breyde?
 Who shal now trowe on any othes mo?
 God wot, I wende, O lady bright, Criseyde,
 That every word was gospel that ye seyde!
 But who may bet bigile, yf hym lyste,
 Than he on whom men weneth best to triste?
 "What shal I don, my Pandarus, allas?
 I fele now so sharp a newe peyne,
1270 Syn that ther lith no remedye in this cas,
 That bet were it I with myn hondes tweyne
 Myselven slowh alwey than thus to pleyne;
 For thorugh the deth my wo sholde han an ende,
 Ther every day with lyf myself I shende."
 Pandare answerde and seyde, "Allas the while
 That I was born! Have I nat seyd er this,
 That dremes many a maner man bigile?
 And whi? For folk expounden hem amys.
 How darstow seyn that fals thy lady ys
1280 For any drem, right for thyn owene drede?
 Lat be this thought; thow kanst no dremes rede.
 "Peraunter, ther thow dremest of this boor,
 It may so be that it may signifie
 Hire fader, which that old is and ek hoor,
 Ayeyn the sonne lith o poynt to dye,
 And she for sorwe gynneth wepe and crie,
 And kisseth hym, ther he lith on the grounde:
 Thus sholdestow thi drem aright expounde!"
 "How myghte I than don," quod Troilus,
1290 "To knowe of this, yee, were it nevere so lite?"
 "Now seystow wisly," quod this Pandarus;
 "My red is this: syn thow kanst wel endite,
 That hastily a lettre thow hire write,
 Thorugh which thow shalt wel bryngyn it aboute
 To know a soth of that thow art in doute.
 "And se now whi: for this I dar wel seyn,
 That if so is that she untrewe be,
 I kan nat trowen that she wol write ayeyn.
 And if she write, thow shalt ful sone yse
1300 As wheither she hath any liberte
 To come ayeyn; or ellis in som clause,
 If she be let, she wol assigne a cause.
 "Thow hast nat writen hire syn that she wente,
 Nor she to the; and this I dorste laye,
 Ther may swich cause ben in hire entente
 That hardily thow wolt thiselven saye
 That hire abod the best is for yow twaye.
 Now writ hire thanne, and thow shalt feele sone
 A soth of al. Ther is namore to done."
1310 Acorded ben to this conclusioun,
 And that anon, thise ilke lordes two;
 And hastily sit Troilus adown,
 And rolleth in his herte to and fro
 How he may best discryven hire his wo.
 And to Criseyde, his owen lady deere,
 He wrot right thus, and seyde as ye may here:
 "Right fresshe flour, whos I ben have and shal,
 Withouten part of elleswhere servyse,
 With herte, body, lif, lust, thought, and al,
1320 I, woful wyght, in everich humble wise
 That tonge telle or herte may devyse,
 As ofte as matere occupieth place,
 Me recomaunde unto youre noble grace.
 "Liketh yow to witen, swete herte,
 As ye wel knowe, how longe tyme agon
 That ye me lefte in aspre peynes smerte,
 Whan that ye wente, of which yet boote non
 Have I non had, but evere wors bigon
 Fro day to day am I, and so mot dwelle,
1330 While it yow list, of wele and wo my welle.
 "For which to yow, with dredful herte trewe,
 I write, as he that sorwe drifth to write,
 My wo, that everich houre encresseth newe,
 Compleynyng, as I dar or kan endite.
 And that defaced is, that may ye wite
 The teris which that fro myn eyen reyne,
 That wolden speke, if that they koude, and pleyne.
 "Yow first biseche I, that youre eyen clere
 To loke on this defouled ye nat holde;
1340 And over al this, that ye, my lady deere,
 Wol vouchesauf this lettre to byholde;
 And by the cause ek of my cares colde
 That sleth my wit, if aught amys m' asterte,
 Foryeve it me, myn owen swete herte!
 "If any servant dorste or oughte of right
 Upon his lady pitously compleyne,
 Thanne wene I that ich oughte be that wight,
 Considered this, that ye thise monthes tweyne
 Han taried, ther ye seyden, soth to seyne,
1350 But dayes ten ye nolde in oost sojourne --
 But in two monthes yet ye nat retourne.
 "But for as muche as me moot nedes like
 Al that yow liste, I dar nat pleyne moore,
 But humblely, with sorwful sikes sike,
 Yow write ich myn unresty sorwes soore,
 Fro day to day desiryng evere moore
 To knowen fully, if youre wille it weere,
 How ye han ferd and don whil ye be theere;
 "The whos welfare and hele ek God encresse
1360 In honour swich that upward in degree
 It growe alwey, so that it nevere cesse.
 Right as youre herte ay kan, my lady free,
 Devyse, I prey to God so moot it be,
 And graunte it that ye soone upon me rewe,
 As wisly as in al I am yow trewe.
 "And if yow liketh knowen of the fare
 Of me, whos wo ther may no wit discryve,
 I kan namore but, chiste of every care,
 At wrytyng of this lettre I was on-lyve,
1370 Al redy out my woful gost to dryve,
 Which I delaye, and holde hym yet in honde,
 Upon the sighte of matere of youre sonde.
 "Myn eyen two, in veyn with which I se,
 Of sorwful teris salte arn waxen welles;
 My song, in pleynte of myn adversitee;
 My good, in harm; myn ese ek woxen helle is.
 My joie, in wo; I kan sey yow naught ellis,
 But torned is -- for which my lif I warie --
 Everich joie or ese in his contrarie;
1380 "Which with youre comyng hom ayeyn to Troie
 Ye may redresse, and more a thousand sithe
 Than evere ich hadde encressen in me joie.
 For was ther nevere herte yet so blithe
 To han his lif as I shal ben as swithe
 As I yow se; and though no manere routhe
 Commeve yow, yet thynketh on youre trouthe.
 "And if so be my gilt hath deth deserved,
 Or if yow list namore upon me se,
 In guerdoun yet of that I have yow served,
1390 Byseche I yow, myn owen lady free,
 That hereupon ye wolden write me,
 For love of God, my righte lode-sterre,
 That deth may make an ende of al my werre;
 "If other cause aught doth yow for to dwelle,
 That with youre lettre ye me recomforte;
 For though to me youre absence is an helle,
 With pacience I wol my wo comporte,
 And with youre lettre of hope I wol desporte.
 Now writeth, swete, and lat me thus nat pleyne;
1400 With hope, or deth, delivereth me fro peyne.
 "Iwis, myne owene deere herte trewe,
 I woot that whan ye next upon me se,
 So lost have I myn hele and ek myn hewe,
 Criseyde shal nought konne knowen me.
 Iwys, myn hertes day, my lady free,
 So thursteth ay myn herte to byholde
 Youre beute, that my lif unnethe I holde.
 "I say namore, al have I for to seye
 To yow wel more than I telle may;
1410 But wheither that ye do me lyve or deye,
 Yet praye I God, so yeve yow right good day!
 And fareth wel, goodly, faire, fresshe may,
 As she that lif or deth may me comande!
 And to youre trouthe ay I me recomande,
 "With hele swich that, but ye yeven me
 The same hele, I shal non hele have.
 In yow lith, whan yow liste that it so be,
 The day in which me clothen shal my grave;
 In yow my lif, in yow myght for to save
1420 Me fro disese of alle peynes smerte;
 And far now wel, myn owen swete herte! Le vostre T."
 This lettre forth was sent unto Criseyde,
 Of which hire answere in effect was this:
 Ful pitously she wroot ayeyn, and seyde,
 That also sone as that she myghte, ywys,
 She wolde come, and mende al that was mys.
 And fynaly she wroot and seyde hym thenne,
 She wolde come, ye, but she nyste whenne.
 But in hire lettre made she swich festes
1430 That wonder was, and swerth she loveth hym best,
 Of which he fond but botmeles bihestes.
 But Troilus, thow maist now, est or west,
 Pipe in an ivy lef, if that the lest!
 Thus goth the world. God shilde us fro meschaunce,
 And every wight that meneth trouthe avaunce!
 Encressen gan the wo fro day to nyght
 Of Troilus, for tarying of Criseyde;
 And lessen gan his hope and ek his myght,
 For which al down he in his bed hym leyde.
1440 He ne eet, ne dronk, ne slep, ne word seyde,
 Ymagynyng ay that she was unkynde,
 For which wel neigh he wex out of his mynde.
 This drem, of which I told have ek byforn,
 May nevere outen of his remembraunce.
 He thought ay wel he hadde his lady lorn,
 And that Joves of his purveyaunce
 Hym shewed hadde in slep the signifiaunce
 Of hire untrouthe and his disaventure,
 And that the boor was shewed hym in figure.
1450 For which he for Sibille his suster sente,
 That called was Cassandre ek al aboute,
 And al his drem he tolde hire er he stente,
 And hire bisoughte assoilen hym the doute
 Of the stronge boor with tuskes stoute;
 And fynaly, withinne a litel stounde,
 Cassandre hym gan right thus his drem expounde:
 She gan first smyle, and seyde, "O brother deere,
 If thow a soth of this desirest knowe,
 Thow most a fewe of olde stories heere,
1460 To purpos how that Fortune overthrowe
 Hath lordes olde, thorugh which, withinne a throwe,
 Thow wel this boor shalt knowe, and of what kynde
 He comen is, as men in bokes fynde.
 "Diane, which that wroth was and in ire
 For Grekis nolde don hire sacrifice,
 Ne encens upon hire auter sette afire,
 She, for that Grekis gonne hire so despise,
 Wrak hire in a wonder cruel wise;
 For with a boor as gret as ox in stalle
1470 She made up frete hire corn and vynes alle.
 "To sle this boor was al the contre raysed,
 Amonges which ther com, this boor to se,
 A mayde, oon of this world the beste ypreysed;
 And Meleagre, lord of that contree,
 He loved so this fresshe mayden free
 That with his manhod, er he wolde stente,
 This boor he slough, and hire the hed he sente;
 "Of which, as olde bokes tellen us,
 Ther ros a contek and a gret envye;
1480 And of this lord descended Tideus
 By ligne, or ellis olde bookes lye.
 But how this Meleagre gan to dye
 Thorugh his moder, wol I yow naught telle,
 For al to longe it were for to dwelle."
 She tolde ek how Tideus, er she stente,
 Unto the stronge citee of Thebes,
 To cleymen kyngdom of the citee, wente,
 For his felawe, daun Polymytes,
 Of which the brother, daun Ethiocles,
1490 Ful wrongfully of Thebes held the strengthe;
 This tolde she by proces, al by lengthe.
 She tolde ek how Hemonydes asterte,
 Whan Tideus slough fifty knyghtes stoute.
 She tolde ek alle the prophecyes by herte,
 And how that seven kynges with hire route
 Bysegeden the citee al aboute;
 And of the holy serpent, and the welle,
 And of the furies, al she gan hym telle;
 Of Archymoris brennynge and the pleyes,
1500 And how Amphiorax fil thorugh the grounde,
 How Tideus was sleyn, lord of Argeyes,
 And how Ypomedoun in litel stounde
 Was dreynt, and ded Parthonope of wownde;
 And also how Capaneus the proude
 With thonder-dynt was slayn, that cride loude.
 She gan ek telle hym how that eyther brother,
 Ethiocles and Polymyte also,
 At a scarmuche ech of hem slough other,
 And of Argyves wepynge and hire wo;
1510 And how the town was brent, she tolde ek tho;
 And so descendeth down from gestes olde
 To Diomede, and thus she spak and tolde:
 "This ilke boor bitokneth Diomede,
 Tideus sone, that down descended is
 Fro Meleagre, that made the boor to blede;
 And thy lady, wherso she be, ywis,
 This Diomede hire herte hath, and she his.
 Wep if thow wolt, or lef, for out of doute,
 This Diomede is inne, and thow art oute."
1520 "Thow seyst nat soth," quod he, "thow sorceresse,
 With al thy false goost of prophecye!
 Thow wenest ben a gret devyneresse!
 Now sestow nat this fool of fantasie
 Peyneth hire on ladys for to lye?
 Awey!" quod he. "Ther Joves yeve the sorwe!
 Thow shalt be fals, peraunter, yet tomorwe!
 "As wel thow myghtest lien on Alceste,
 That was of creatures, but men lye,
 That evere weren, kyndest and the beste!
1530 For whan hire housbonde was in jupertye
 To dye hymself but if she wolde dye,
 She ches for hym to dye and gon to helle,
 And starf anon, as us the bokes telle."
 Cassandre goth, and he with cruel herte
 Foryat his wo, for angre of hire speche;
 And from his bed al sodeynly he sterte,
 As though al hool hym hadde ymad a leche.
 And day by day he gan enquere and seche
 A sooth of this with al his fulle cure;
1540 And thus he drieth forth his aventure.
 Fortune, which that permutacioun
 Of thynges hath, as it is hire comitted
 Thorugh purveyaunce and disposicioun
 Of heighe Jove, as regnes shal be flitted
 Fro folk in folk, or when they shal be smytted,
 Gan pulle awey the fetheres brighte of Troie
 Fro day to day, til they ben bare of joie.
 Among al this, the fyn of the parodie
 Of Ector gan aprochen wonder blyve.
1550 The fate wolde his soule sholde unbodye,
 And shapen hadde a mene it out to dryve,
 Ayeyns which fate hym helpeth nat to stryve;
 But on a day to fighten gan he wende,
 At which -- allas! -- he caughte his lyves ende.
 For which me thynketh every manere wight
 That haunteth armes oughte to biwaille
 The deth of hym that was so noble a knyght;
 For as he drough a kyng by th' aventaille,
 Unwar of this, Achilles thorugh the maille
1560 And thorugh the body gan hym for to ryve;
 And thus this worthi knyght was brought of lyve.
 For whom, as olde bokes tellen us,
 Was mad swich wo that tonge it may nat telle,
 And namely, the sorwe of Troilus,
 That next hym was of worthynesse welle;
 And in this wo gan Troilus to dwelle
 That, what for sorwe, and love, and for unreste,
 Ful ofte a day he bad his herte breste.
 But natheles, though he gan hym dispaire,
1570 And dradde ay that his lady was untrewe,
 Yet ay on hire his herte gan repaire.
 And as thise lovers don, he soughte ay newe
 To gete ayeyn Criseyde, brighte of hewe;
 And in his herte he wente hire excusynge,
 That Calkas caused al hire tariynge.
 And ofte tyme he was in purpos grete
 Hymselven lik a pilgrym to desgise
 To seen hire; but he may nat contrefete
 To ben unknowen of folk that weren wise,
1580 Ne fynde excuse aright that may suffise
 If he among the Grekis knowen were;
 For which he wep ful ofte and many a tere.
 To hire he wroot yet ofte tyme al newe
 Ful pitously -- he lefte it nought for slouthe --
 Bisechyng hire that sithen he was trewe,
 That she wol come ayeyn and holde hire trouthe.
 For which Criseyde upon a day, for routhe --
 I take it so -- touchyng al this matere,
 Wrot hym ayeyn, and seyde as ye may here:
1590 "Cupides sone, ensample of goodlyheede,
 O swerd of knyghthod, sours of gentilesse,
 How myght a wight in torment and in drede
 And heleles, yow sende as yet gladnesse?
 I herteles, I sik, I in destresse!
 Syn ye with me, nor I with yow, may dele,
 Yow neyther sende ich herte may nor hele.
 "Youre lettres ful, the papir al ypleynted,
 Conceyved hath myn hertes pietee.
 I have ek seyn with teris al depeynted
1600 Youre lettre, and how that ye requeren me
 To come ayeyn, which yet ne may nat be;
 But whi, lest that this lettre founden were,
 No mencioun ne make I now, for feere.
 "Grevous to me, God woot, is youre unreste,
 Youre haste, and that the goddes ordinaunce
 It semeth nat ye take it for the beste.
 Nor other thyng nys in youre remembraunce,
 As thynketh me, but only youre plesaunce.
 But beth nat wroth, and that I yow biseche;
1610 For that I tarie is al for wikked speche.
 "For I have herd wel moore than I wende,
 Touchyng us two, how thynges han ystonde,
 Which I shal with dissymelyng amende.
 And beth nat wroth, I have ek understonde
 How ye ne do but holden me in honde.
 But now no force. I kan nat in yow gesse
 But alle trouthe and alle gentilesse.
 "Come I wole; but yet in swich disjoynte
 I stonde as now that what yer or what day
1620 That this shal be, that kan I naught apoynte.
 But in effect I pray yow, as I may,
 Of youre good word and of youre frendship ay;
 For trewely, while that my lif may dure,
 As for a frend ye may in me assure.
 "Yet preye ich yow, on yvel ye ne take
 That it is short which that I to yow write;
 I dar nat, ther I am, wel lettres make,
 Ne nevere yet ne koude I wel endite.
 Ek gret effect men write in place lite;
1630 Th' entente is al, and nat the lettres space.
 And fareth now wel. God have yow in his grace! La vostre Tr 5 C."
 This Troilus this lettre thoughte al straunge
 Whan he it saugh, and sorwfullich he sighte;
 Hym thoughte it lik a kalendes of chaunge.
 But fynaly, he ful ne trowen myghte
 That she ne wolde hym holden that she hyghte;
 For with ful yvel wille list hym to leve
 That loveth wel, in swich cas, though hym greve.
 But natheles men seyen that at the laste,
1640 For any thyng, men shal the soothe se;
 And swich a cas bitidde, and that as faste,
 That Troilus wel understod that she
 Nas nought so kynde as that hire oughte be.
 And fynaly, he woot now out of doute
 That al is lost that he hath ben aboute.
 Stood on a day in his malencolie
 This Troilus, and in suspecioun
 Of hire for whom he wende for to dye.
 And so bifel that thorughout Troye town,
1650 As was the gise, iborn was up and down
 A manere cote-armure, as seith the storie,
 Byforn Deiphebe, in signe of his victorie;
 The whiche cote, as telleth Lollius,
 Deiphebe it hadde rent fro Diomede
 The same day. And whan this Troilus
 It saugh, he gan to taken of it hede,
 Avysyng of the lengthe and of the brede,
 And al the werk; but as he gan byholde,
 Ful sodeynly his herte gan to colde,
1660 As he that on the coler fond withinne
 A broch that he Criseyde yaf that morwe
 That she from Troie moste nedes twynne,
 In remembraunce of hym and of his sorwe.
 And she hym leyde ayeyn hire feith to borwe
 To kepe it ay! But now ful wel he wiste,
 His lady nas no lenger on to triste.
 He goth hym hom and gan ful soone sende
 For Pandarus, and al this newe chaunce,
 And of this broche, he tolde hym word and ende,
1670 Compleynyng of hire hertes variaunce,
 His longe love, his trouthe, and his penaunce.
 And after deth, withouten wordes moore,
 Ful faste he cride, his reste hym to restore.
 Than spak he thus, "O lady myn, Criseyde,
 Where is youre feith, and where is youre biheste?
 Where is youre love? Where is youre trouthe?" he seyde.
 "Of Diomede have ye now al this feeste!
 Allas, I wolde han trowed atte leeste
 That syn ye nolde in trouthe to me stonde,
1680 That ye thus nolde han holden me in honde!
 "Who shal now trowe on any othes mo?
 Allas, I nevere wolde han wend, er this,
 That ye, Criseyde, koude han chaunged so;
 Ne, but I hadde agilt and don amys,
 So cruel wende I nought youre herte, ywis,
 To sle me thus! Allas, youre name of trouthe
 Is now fordon, and that is al my routhe.
 "Was ther non other broch yow liste lete
 To feffe with youre newe love," quod he,
1690 "But thilke broch that I, with teris wete,
 Yow yaf as for a remembraunce of me?
 Non other cause, allas, ne hadde ye
 But for despit, and ek for that ye mente
 Al outrely to shewen youre entente.
 "Thorugh which I se that clene out of youre mynde
 Ye han me cast -- and I ne kan nor may,
 For al this world, withinne myn herte fynde
 To unloven yow a quarter of a day!
 In corsed tyme I born was, weilaway,
1700 That yow, that doon me al this wo endure,
 Yet love I best of any creature!
 "Now God," quod he, "me sende yet the grace
 That I may meten with this Diomede!
 And trewely, if I have myght and space,
 Yet shal I make, I hope, his sydes blede.
 O God," quod he, "that oughtest taken heede
 To fortheren trouthe, and wronges to punyce,
 Whi nyltow don a vengeaunce of this vice?
 "O Pandarus, that in dremes for to triste
1710 Me blamed hast, and wont art oft upbreyde,
 Now maistow sen thiself, if that the liste,
 How trewe is now thi nece, bright Criseyde!
 In sondry formes, God it woot," he seyde,
 "The goddes shewen bothe joie and tene
 In slep, and by my drem it is now sene.
 "And certeynly, withouten moore speche,
 From hennesforth, as ferforth as I may,
 Myn owen deth in armes wol I seche;
 I recche nat how soone be the day!
1720 But trewely, Criseyde, swete may,
 Whom I have ay with al my myght yserved,
 That ye thus doon, I have it nat deserved."
 This Pandarus, that al thise thynges herde,
 And wiste wel he seyde a soth of this,
 He nought a word ayeyn to hym answerde;
 For sory of his frendes sorwe he is,
 And shamed for his nece hath don amys,
 And stant, astoned of thise causes tweye,
 As stille as ston; a word ne kowde he seye.
1730 But at the laste thus he spak, and seyde:
 "My brother deer, I may do the namore.
 What sholde I seyen? I hate, ywys, Cryseyde;
 And, God woot, I wol hate hire evermore!
 And that thow me bisoughtest don of yoore,
 Havyng unto myn honour ne my reste
 Right no reward, I dide al that the leste.
 "If I dide aught that myghte liken the,
 It is me lief; and of this tresoun now,
 God woot that it a sorwe is unto me!
1740 And dredeles, for hertes ese of yow,
 Right fayn I wolde amende it, wiste I how.
 And fro this world, almyghty God I preye
 Delivere hire soon! I kan namore seye."
 Gret was the sorwe and pleynte of Troilus,
 But forth hire cours Fortune ay gan to holde.
 Criseyde loveth the sone of Tideus,
 And Troilus moot wepe in cares colde.
 Swich is this world, whoso it kan byholde;
 In ech estat is litel hertes reste.
1750 God leve us for to take it for the beste!
 In many cruel bataille, out of drede,
 Of Troilus, this ilke noble knyght,
 As men may in thise olde bokes rede,
 Was seen his knyghthod and his grete myght;
 And dredeles, his ire, day and nyght,
 Ful cruwely the Grekis ay aboughte;
 And alwey moost this Diomede he soughte.
 And ofte tyme, I fynde that they mette
 With blody strokes and with wordes grete,
1760 Assayinge how hire speres weren whette;
 And, God it woot, with many a cruel hete
 Gan Troilus upon his helm to bete!
 But natheles, Fortune it naught ne wolde
 Of oothers hond that eyther deyen sholde.
 And if I hadde ytaken for to write
 The armes of this ilke worthi man,
 Than wolde ich of his batailles endite;
 But for that I to writen first bigan
 Of his love, I have seyd as I kan --
1770 His worthi dedes, whoso list hem heere,
 Rede Dares, he kan telle hem alle ifeere --
 Bysechyng every lady bright of hewe,
 And every gentil womman, what she be,
 That al be that Criseyde was untrewe,
 That for that gilt she be nat wroth with me.
 Ye may hire gilt in other bokes se;
 And gladlier I wol write, yif yow leste,
 Penolopees trouthe and good Alceste.
 N' y sey nat this al oonly for thise men,
1780 But moost for wommen that bitraised be
 Thorugh false folk -- God yeve hem sorwe, amen! --
 That with hire grete wit and subtilte
 Bytraise yow. And this commeveth me
 To speke, and in effect yow alle I preye,
 Beth war of men, and herkneth what I seye!
 Go, litel bok, go, litel myn tragedye,
 Ther God thi makere yet, er that he dye,
 So sende myght to make in som comedye!
 But litel book, no makyng thow n' envie,
1790 But subgit be to alle poesye;
 And kis the steppes where as thow seest pace
 Virgile, Ovide, Omer, Lucan, and Stace.
 And for ther is so gret diversite
 In Englissh and in writyng of oure tonge,
 So prey I God that non myswrite the,
 Ne the mysmetre for defaute of tonge;
 And red wherso thow be, or elles songe,
 That thow be understonde, God I biseche!
 But yet to purpos of my rather speche:
1800 The wrath, as I bigan yow for to seye,
 Of Troilus the Grekis boughten deere,
 For thousandes his hondes maden deye,
 As he that was withouten any peere,
 Save Ector, in his tyme, as I kan heere.
 But -- weilawey, save only Goddes wille,
 Despitously hym slough the fierse Achille.
 And whan that he was slayn in this manere,
 His lighte goost ful blisfully is went
 Up to the holughnesse of the eighthe spere,
1810 In convers letyng everich element;
 And ther he saugh with ful avysement
 The erratik sterres, herkenyng armonye
 With sownes ful of hevenyssh melodie.
 And down from thennes faste he gan avyse
 This litel spot of erthe that with the se
 Embraced is, and fully gan despise
 This wrecched world, and held al vanite
 To respect of the pleyn felicite
 That is in hevene above; and at the laste,
1820 Ther he was slayn his lokyng down he caste,
 And in hymself he lough right at the wo
 Of hem that wepten for his deth so faste,
 And dampned al oure werk that foloweth so
 The blynde lust, the which that may nat laste,
 And sholden al oure herte on heven caste;
 And forth he wente, shortly for to telle,
 1827 Ther as Mercurye sorted hym to dwelle.
 Swich fyn hath, lo, this Troilus for love!
 Swich fyn hath al his grete worthynesse!
1830 Swich fyn hath his estat real above!
 Swich fyn his lust, swich fyn hath his noblesse!
 Swych fyn hath false worldes brotelnesse!
 And thus bigan his lovyng of Criseyde,
 As I have told, and in this wise he deyde.
 O yonge, fresshe folkes, he or she,
 In which that love up groweth with youre age,
 Repeyreth hom fro worldly vanyte,
 And of youre herte up casteth the visage
 To thilke God that after his ymage
1840 Yow made, and thynketh al nys but a faire,
 This world that passeth soone as floures faire.
 And loveth hym the which that right for love
 Upon a crois, oure soules for to beye,
 1844 First starf, and roos, and sit in hevene above;
 For he nyl falsen no wight, dar I seye,
 That wol his herte al holly on hym leye.
 And syn he best to love is, and most meke,
 What nedeth feynede loves for to seke?
 Lo here, of payens corsed olde rites!
1850 Lo here, what alle hire goddes may availle!
 Lo here, thise wrecched worldes appetites!
 Lo here, the fyn and guerdoun for travaille
 Of Jove, Appollo, of Mars, of swich rascaille!
 Lo here, the forme of olde clerkis speche
 In poetrie, if ye hire bokes seche.
 O moral Gower, this book I directe
 To the and to the, philosophical Strode,
 To vouchen sauf, ther nede is, to correcte,
 Of youre benignites and zeles goode.
1860 And to that sothfast Crist, that starf on rode,
 With al myn herte of mercy evere I preye,
 And to the Lord right thus I speke and seye:
 Thow oon, and two, and thre, eterne on lyve,
 That regnest ay in thre, and two, and oon,
 Uncircumscript, and al maist circumscrive,
 Us from visible and invisible foon
 Defende, and to thy mercy, everichon,
 So make us, Jesus, for thi mercy, digne,
 For love of mayde and moder thyn benigne.
1870 Amen.

---

The Legend of Good Women

Prologue F

 A thousand tymes have I herd men telle
 That ther ys joy in hevene and peyne in helle,
 And I acorde wel that it ys so;
 But, natheles, yet wot I wel also
 That ther nis noon dwellyng in this contree
 That eyther hath in hevene or helle ybe,
 Ne may of hit noon other weyes witen
 But as he hath herd seyd or founde it writen;
 For by assay ther may no man it preve.
10 But God forbede but men shulde leve
 Wel more thing than men han seen with ye!
 Men shal not wenen every thing a lye
 But yf himself yt seeth or elles dooth.
 For, God wot, thing is never the lasse sooth,
 Thogh every wight ne may it nat ysee.
 Bernard the monk ne saugh nat all, pardee!
 Than mote we to bokes that we fynde,
 Thurgh whiche that olde thinges ben in mynde,
 And to the doctrine of these olde wyse,
20 Yeve credence, in every skylful wise,
 That tellen of these olde appreved stories
 Of holynesse, of regnes, of victories,
 Of love, of hate, of other sondry thynges,
 Of whiche I may not maken rehersynges.
 And yf that olde bokes were aweye,
 Yloren were of remembraunce the keye.
 Wel ought us thanne honouren and beleve
 These bokes, there we han noon other preve.
 And as for me, though that I konne but lyte,
30 On bokes for to rede I me delyte,
 And to hem yive I feyth and ful credence,
 And in myn herte have hem in reverence
 So hertely, that ther is game noon
 That fro my bokes maketh me to goon,
 But yt be seldom on the holyday,
 Save, certeynly, whan that the month of May
 Is comen, and that I here the foules synge,
 And that the floures gynnen for to sprynge,
 Farewel my bok and my devocioun!
40 Now have I thanne eek this condicioun,
 That, of al the floures in the mede,
 Thanne love I most thise floures white and rede,
 Swiche as men callen daysyes in our toun.
 To hem have I so gret affeccioun,
 As I seyde erst, whanne comen is the May,
 That in my bed ther daweth me no day
 That I nam up and walkyng in the mede
 To seen this flour ayein the sonne sprede,
 Whan it upryseth erly by the morwe.
50 That blisful sighte softneth al my sorwe,
 So glad am I, whan that I have presence
 Of it, to doon it alle reverence,
 As she that is of alle floures flour,
 Fulfilled of al vertu and honour,
 And evere ilyke faire and fressh of hewe;
 And I love it, and ever ylike newe,
 And evere shal, til that myn herte dye.
 Al swere I nat, of this I wol nat lye;
 Ther loved no wight hotter in his lyve.
60 And whan that hit ys eve, I renne blyve,
 As sone as evere the sonne gynneth weste,
 To seen this flour, how it wol go to reste,
 For fere of nyght, so hateth she derknesse.
 Hire chere is pleynly sprad in the brightnesse
 Of the sonne, for ther yt wol unclose.
 Allas, that I ne had Englyssh, ryme or prose,
 Suffisant this flour to preyse aryght!
 But helpeth, ye that han konnyng and myght,
 Ye lovers that kan make of sentement;
70 In this cas oghte ye be diligent
 To forthren me somwhat in my labour,
 Whethir ye ben with the leef or with the flour.
 For wel I wot that ye han her-biforn
 Of makyng ropen, and lad awey the corn,
 And I come after, glenyng here and there,
 And am ful glad yf I may fynde an ere
 Of any goodly word that ye han left.
 And thogh it happen me rehercen eft
 That ye han in your fresshe songes sayd,
80 Forbereth me, and beth nat evele apayd,
 Syn that ye see I do yt in the honour
 Of love, and eke in service of the flour
 Whom that I serve as I have wit or myght.
 She is the clernesse and the verray lyght
 That in this derke world me wynt and ledeth.
 The hert in-with my sorwfull brest yow dredeth
 And loveth so sore that ye ben verrayly
 The maistresse of my wit, and nothing I.
 My word, my werk ys knyt so in youre bond
90 That, as an harpe obeieth to the hond
 And maketh it soune after his fyngerynge,
 Ryght so mowe ye oute of myn herte bringe
 Swich vois, ryght as yow lyst, to laughe or pleyne.
 Be ye my gide and lady sovereyne!
 As to myn erthly god to yow I calle,
 Bothe in this werk and in my sorwes alle.
 But wherfore that I spak, to yive credence
 To olde stories and doon hem reverence,
 And that men mosten more thyng beleve
100 Then men may seen at eye, or elles preve --
 That shal I seyn, whanne that I see my tyme;
 I may not al at-ones speke in ryme.
 My besy gost, that thursteth alwey newe
 To seen this flour so yong, so fressh of hewe,
 Constreyned me with so gledy desir
 That in myn herte I feele yet the fir
 That made me to ryse er yt were day --
 And this was now the firste morwe of May --
 With dredful hert and glad devocioun,
110 For to ben at the resureccioun
 Of this flour, whan that yt shulde unclose
 Agayn the sonne, that roos as red as rose,
 That in the brest was of the beste, that day,
 That Agenores doghtre ladde away.
 And doun on knes anoon-ryght I me sette,
 And, as I koude, this fresshe flour I grette,
 Knelyng alwey, til it unclosed was,
 Upon the smale, softe, swote gras,
 That was with floures swote enbrouded al,
120 Of swich swetnesse and swich odour overal,
 That, for to speke of gomme, or herbe, or tree,
 Comparisoun may noon ymaked bee;
 For yt surmounteth pleynly alle odoures,
 And of riche beaute alle floures.
 Forgeten hadde the erthe his pore estat
 Of wynter, that hym naked made and mat,
 And with his swerd of cold so sore greved;
 Now hath th' atempre sonne all that releved,
 That naked was, and clad him new agayn.
130 The smale foules, of the sesoun fayn,
 That from the panter and the net ben scaped,
 Upon the foweler, that hem made awhaped
 In wynter, and distroyed hadde hire brood,
 In his dispit hem thoghte yt did hem good
 To synge of hym, and in hir song despise
 The foule cherl that, for his coveytise,
 Had hem betrayed with his sophistrye.
 This was hire song: "The foweler we deffye,
 And al his craft." And somme songen clere
140 Layes of love, that joye it was to here,
 In worship and in preysinge of hir make;
 And for the newe blisful somers sake,
 Upon the braunches ful of blosmes softe,
 In hire delyt they turned hem ful ofte,
 And songen, "Blessed be Seynt Valentyn,
 For on his day I chees yow to be myn,
 Withouten repentyng, myn herte swete!"
 And therwithalle hire bekes gonnen meete,
 Yeldyng honour and humble obeysaunces
150 To love, and diden hire other observaunces
 That longeth onto love and to nature;
 Construeth that as yow lyst, I do no cure.
 And thoo that hadde doon unkyndenesse --
 As dooth the tydif, for newfangelnesse --
 Besoghte mercy of hir trespassynge,
 And humblely songen hire repentynge,
 And sworen on the blosmes to be trewe
 So that hire makes wolde upon hem rewe,
 And at the laste maden hire acord.
160 Al founde they Daunger for a tyme a lord,
 Yet Pitee, thurgh his stronge gentil myght,
 Forgaf, and made Mercy passen Ryght,
 Thurgh innocence and ruled Curtesye.
 But I ne clepe nat innocence folye,
 Ne fals pitee, for vertu is the mene,
 As Etik seith. in swich maner I mene.
 And thus thise foweles, voide of al malice,
 Acordeden to love, and laften vice
 Of hate, and songen alle of oon acord,
170 "Welcome, somer, oure governour and lord!"
 And Zepherus and Flora gentilly
 Yaf to the floures, softe and tenderly,
 Hire swoote breth, and made hem for to sprede,
 As god and goddesse of the floury mede;
 In which me thoghte I myghte, day by day,
 Duellen alwey, the joly month of May,
 Withouten slep, withouten mete or drynke.
 Adoun ful softely I gan to synke,
 And, lenynge on myn elbowe and my syde,
180 The longe day I shoop me for t' abide
 For nothing elles, and I shal nat lye,
 But for to loke upon the dayesie,
 That wel by reson men it calle may
 The "dayesye," or elles the "ye of day,"
 The emperice and flour of floures alle.
 I pray to God that faire mote she falle,
 And alle that loven floures, for hire sake!
 But natheles, ne wene nat that I make
 In preysing of the flour agayn the leef,
190 No more than of the corn agayn the sheef;
 For, as to me, nys lever noon ne lother.
 I nam withholden yit with never nother;
 Ne I not who serveth leef ne who the flour.
 Wel browken they her service or labour;
 For this thing is al of another tonne,
 Of olde storye, er swich stryf was begonne.
 Whan that the sonne out of the south gan weste,
 And that this flour gan close and goon to reste
 For derknesse of the nyght, the which she dredde,
200 Hom to myn hous ful swiftly I me spedde
 To goon to reste, and erly for to ryse,
 To seen this flour to sprede, as I devyse.
 And in a litel herber that I have,
 That benched was on turves fressh ygrave,
 I bad men sholde me my couche make;
 For deyntee of the newe someres sake,
 I bad hem strawen floures on my bed.
 Whan I was leyd and had myn eyen hed,
 I fel on slepe within an houre or twoo.
210 Me mette how I lay in the medewe thoo,
 To seen this flour that I so love and drede;
 And from afer com walkyng in the mede
 The god of Love, and in his hand a quene,
 And she was clad in real habit grene.
 A fret of gold she hadde next her heer,
 And upon that a whit corowne she beer
 With flourouns smale, and I shal nat lye;
 For al the world, ryght as a dayesye
 Ycorouned ys with white leves lyte,
220 So were the flowrouns of hire coroune white.
 For of o perle fyn, oriental,
 Hire white coroune was ymaked al;
 For which the white coroune above the grene
 Made hire lyk a daysie for to sene,
 Considered eke hir fret of gold above.
 Yclothed was this myghty god of Love
 In silk, enbrouded ful of grene greves,
 In-with a fret of rede rose-leves,
 The fresshest syn the world was first bygonne.
230 His gilte heer was corowned with a sonne
 Instede of gold, for hevynesse and wyghte.
 Therwith me thoghte his face shoon so bryghte
 That wel unnethes myghte I him beholde;
 And in his hand me thoghte I saugh him holde
 Twoo firy dartes as the gledes rede,
 And aungelyke hys wynges saugh I sprede.
 And al be that men seyn that blynd ys he,
 Algate me thoghte that he myghte se;
 For sternely on me he gan byholde,
240 So that his loking dooth myn herte colde.
 And by the hand he held this noble quene
 Corowned with whit and clothed al in grene,
 So womanly, so benigne, and so meke,
 That in this world, thogh that men wolde seke,
 Half hire beaute shulde men nat fynde
 In creature that formed ys by kynde.
 And therfore may I seyn, as thynketh me,
 This song in preysyng of this lady fre:
 Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere;
250 Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al adown;
 Hyd, Jonathas, al thy frendly manere;
 Penalopee and Marcia Catoun,
 Make of youre wifhod no comparysoun;
 Hyde ye youre beautes, Ysoude and Eleyne:
 My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.
 Thy faire body, lat yt nat appere,
 Lavyne; and thou, Lucresse of Rome toun,
 And Polixene, that boghten love so dere,
 And Cleopatre, with al thy passyoun,
260 Hyde ye your trouthe of love and your renoun;
 And thou, Tisbe, that hast for love swich peyne:
 My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.
 Herro, Dido, Laudomia, alle yfere,
 And Phillis, hangyng for thy Demophoun,
 And Canace, espied by thy chere,
 Ysiphile, betrayed with Jasoun,
 Maketh of your trouthe neythir boost ne soun;
 Nor Ypermystre or Adriane, ye tweyne:
 My lady cometh, that al this may dysteyne.
270 This balade may ful wel ysongen be,
 As I have seyd erst, by my lady free;
 For certeynly al thise mowe nat suffise
 To apperen wyth my lady in no wyse.
 For as the sonne wole the fyr disteyne,
 So passeth al my lady sovereyne,
 That ys so good, so faire, so debonayre,
 I prey to God that ever falle hire faire!
 For, nadde comfort ben of hire presence,
 I hadde ben ded, withouten any defence,
280 For drede of Loves wordes and his chere,
 As, when tyme ys, herafter ye shal here.
 Behynde this god of Love, upon the grene,
 I saugh comyng of ladyes nyntene,
 In real habit, a ful esy paas,
 And after hem coome of wymen swich a traas
 That, syn that God Adam hadde mad of erthe,
 The thridde part, of mankynde, or the ferthe,
 Ne wende I not by possibilitee
 Had ever in this wide world ybee;
290 And trewe of love thise women were echon.
 Now wheither was that a wonder thing or non,
 That ryght anoon as that they gonne espye
 Thys flour which that I clepe the dayesie,
 Ful sodeynly they stynten al attones,
 And kneled doun, as it were for the nones,
 And songen with o vois, "Heel and honour
 To trouthe of womanhede, and to this flour
 That bereth our alder pris in figurynge!
 Hire white corowne bereth the witnessynge."
300 And with that word, a-compas enviroun,
 They setten hem ful softely adoun.
 First sat the god of Love, and syth his quene
 With the white corowne, clad in grene,
 And sithen al the remenaunt by and by,
 As they were of estaat, ful curteysly;
 Ne nat a word was spoken in the place
 The mountaunce of a furlong wey of space.
 I, knelying by this flour, in good entente,
 Abood to knowen what this peple mente,
310 As stille as any ston; til at the laste
 This god of Love on me hys eyen caste,
 And seyde, "Who kneleth there?" And I answerde
 Unto his askynge, whan that I it herde,
 And seyde, "Sir, it am I," and com him ner,
 And salwed him. Quod he, "What dostow her
 So nygh myn oune floure, so boldely?
 Yt were better worthy, trewely,
 A worm to neghen ner my flour than thow."
 "And why, sire," quod I, "and yt lyke yow?"
320 "For thow," quod he, "art therto nothing able.
 Yt is my relyke, digne and delytable,
 And thow my foo, and al my folk werreyest,
 And of myn olde servauntes thow mysseyest,
 And hynderest hem with thy translacioun,
 And lettest folk from hire devocioun
 To serve me, and holdest it folye
 To serve Love. Thou maist yt nat denye,
 For in pleyn text, withouten nede of glose,
 Thou hast translated the Romaunce of the Rose,
330 That is an heresye ayeins my lawe,
 And makest wise folk fro me withdrawe;
 And of Creseyde thou hast seyd as the lyste,
 That maketh men to wommen lasse triste,
 That ben as trewe as ever was any steel.
 Of thyn answere avise the ryght weel;
 For thogh thou reneyed hast my lay,
 As other wrecches han doon many a day,
 By Seynt Venus that my moder ys,
 If that thou lyve, thou shalt repenten this
340 So cruelly that it shal wel be sene!"
 Thoo spak this lady, clothed al in grene,
 And seyde, "God, ryght of youre curtesye,
 Ye moten herken yf he can replye
 Agayns al this that ye have to him meved.
 A god ne sholde nat thus be agreved,
 But of hys deitee he shal be stable,
 And therto gracious and merciable.
 And yf ye nere a god, that knowen al,
 Thanne myght yt be as I yow tellen shal:
350 This man to yow may falsly ben accused
 That as by right him oughte ben excused.
 For in youre court ys many a losengeour,
 And many a queynte totelere accusour,
 That tabouren in youre eres many a sown,
 Ryght after hire ymagynacioun,
 To have youre daliance, and for envie.
 Thise ben the causes, and I shal not lye.
 Envie ys lavendere of the court alway,
 For she ne parteth, neither nyght ne day,
360 Out of the hous of Cesar; thus seith Dante;
 Whoso that gooth, algate she wol nat wante.
 And eke, peraunter, for this man ys nyce,
 He myghte doon yt, gessyng no malice,
 But for he useth thynges for to make;
 Hym rekketh noght of what matere he take.
 Or him was boden maken thilke tweye
 Of som persone, and durste yt nat withseye;
 Or him repenteth outrely of this.
 He ne hath nat doon so grevously amys
370 To translaten that olde clerkes writen,
 As thogh that he of malice wolde enditen
 Despit of love, and had himself yt wroght.
 This shoolde a ryghtwis lord have in his thoght,
 And nat be lyk tirauntz of Lumbardye,
 That han no reward but at tyrannye.
 For he that kynge or lord ys naturel,
 Hym oghte nat be tiraunt ne crewel
 As is a fermour, to doon the harm he kan.
 He moste thinke yt is his lige man,
380 And is his tresour and his gold in cofre.
 This is the sentence of the Philosophre,
 A kyng to kepe his liges in justice;
 Withouten doute, that is his office.
 Al wol he kepe his lordes hire degree,
 As it ys ryght and skilful that they bee
 Enhaunced and honoured, and most dere --
 For they ben half-goddes in this world here --
 Yit mot he doon bothe ryght, to poore and ryche,
 Al be that hire estaat be nat yliche,
390 And han of poore folk compassyoun.
 For loo, the gentil kynde of the lyoun:
 For whan a flye offendeth him or biteth,
 He with his tayl awey the flye smyteth
 Al esely; for, of hys genterye,
 Hym deyneth not to wreke hym on a flye,
 As dooth a curre, or elles another best.
 In noble corage ought ben arest,
 And weyen every thing by equytee,
 And ever have reward to his owen degree.
400 For, syr, yt is no maistrye for a lord
 To dampne a man without answere of word,
 And for a lord that is ful foul to use.
 And if so be he may hym nat excuse,
 But asketh mercy with a dredeful herte,
 And profereth him, ryght in his bare sherte,
 To ben ryght at your owen jugement,
 Than oght a god by short avysement
 Consydre his owne honour and hys trespas.
 For, syth no cause of deth lyeth in this caas,
410 Yow oghte to ben the lyghter merciable;
 Leteth youre ire, and beth sumwhat tretable.
 The man hath served yow of his kunnynge,
 And furthred wel youre lawe in his makynge.
 Al be hit that he kan nat wel endite,
 Yet hath he maked lewed folk delyte
 To serve yow, in preysinge of your name.
 He made the book that hight the Hous of Fame,
 And eke the Deeth of Blaunche the Duchesse,
 And the Parlement of Foules, as I gesse,
420 And al the love of Palamon and Arcite
 Of Thebes, thogh the storye ys knowen lyte;
 And many an ympne for your halydayes,
 That highten balades, roundels, virelayes;
 And, for to speke of other holynesse,
 He hath in prose translated Boece,
 And maad the lyf also of Seynt Cecile.
 He made also, goon ys a gret while,
 Origenes upon the Maudeleyne.
 Hym oughte now to have the lesse peyne;
430 He hath maad many a lay and many a thing.
 Now as ye be a god and eke a kyng,
 I, your Alceste, whilom quene of Trace,
 Y aske yow this man, ryght of your grace,
 That ye him never hurte in al his lyve;
 And he shal swere to yow, and that as blyve,
 He shal no more agilten in this wyse,
 But he shal maken, as ye wol devyse,
 Of wommen trewe in lovyng al hire lyve,
 Wherso ye wol, of mayden or of wyve,
440 And forthren yow as muche as he mysseyde
 Or in the Rose or elles in Creseyde."
 The god of Love answerede hire thus anoon:
 "Madame," quod he, "it is so long agoon
 That I yow knew so charitable and trewe,
 That never yit syn that the world was newe
 To me ne fond y better noon than yee.
 If that I wol save my degree,
 I may, ne wol, nat werne your requeste.
 Al lyeth in yow, dooth wyth hym what yow leste.
450 I al foryeve, withouten lenger space;
 For whoso yeveth a yifte or dooth a grace,
 Do it by tyme, his thank ys wel the more.
 And demeth ye what he shal doo therfore.
 Goo thanke now my lady here," quod he.
 I roos, and doun I sette me on my knee,
 And seyde thus: "Madame, the God above
 Foryelde yow that ye the god of Love
 Han maked me his wrathe to foryive,
 And yeve me grace so longe for to lyve
460 That I may knowe soothly what ye bee
 That han me holpe and put in this degree.
 But trewly I wende, as in this cas,
 Naught have agilt, ne doon to love trespas.
 For-why a trewe man, withouten drede,
 Hath nat to parten with a theves dede;
 Ne a trewe lover oght me not to blame
 Thogh that I speke a fals lovere som shame.
 They oghte rather with me for to holde
 For that I of Creseyde wroot or tolde,
470 Or of the Rose; what so myn auctour mente,
 Algate, God woot, yt was myn entente
 To forthren trouthe in love and yt cheryce,
 And to ben war fro falsnesse and fro vice
 By swich ensample; this was my menynge."
 And she answerde, "Lat be thyn arguynge,
 For Love ne wol nat countrepleted be
 In ryght ne wrong; and lerne that at me!
 Thow hast thy grace, and hold the ryght therto.
 Now wol I seyn what penance thou shalt do
480 For thy trespas. Understonde yt here:
 Thow shalt, while that thou lyvest, yer by yere,
 The moste partye of thy tyme spende
 In makyng of a glorious legende
 Of goode wymmen, maydenes and wyves,
 That weren trewe in lovyng al hire lyves;
 And telle of false men that hem bytraien,
 That al hir lyf ne don nat but assayen
 How many women they may doon a shame;
 For in youre world that is now holde a game.
490 And thogh the lyke nat a lovere bee,
 Speke wel of love; this penance yive I thee.
 And to the god of Love I shal so preye
 That he shal charge his servantz by any weye
 To forthren thee, and wel thy labour quyte.
 Goo now thy wey, this penaunce ys but lyte.
 And whan this book ys maad, yive it the quene,
 On my byhalf, at Eltham or at Sheene."
 The god of Love gan smyle, and than he sayde:
 "Wostow," quod he, "wher this be wyf or mayde,
500 Or queene, or countesse, or of what degre,
 That hath so lytel penance yiven thee,
 That hast deserved sorer for to smerte?
 But pite renneth soone in gentil herte;
 That maistow seen; she kytheth what she ys."
 And I answered, "Nay, sire, so have I blys,
 No moore but that I see wel she is good."
 "That is a trewe tale, by myn hood!"
 Quod Love; "And that thou knowest wel, pardee,
 If yt be so that thou avise the.
510 Hastow nat in a book, lyth in thy cheste,
 The grete goodnesse of the quene Alceste,
 That turned was into a dayesye;
 She that for hire housbonde chees to dye,
 And eke to goon to helle, rather than he,
 And Ercules rescowed hire, parde,
 And broght hir out of helle agayn to blys?"
 And I answerd ageyn, and sayde, "Yis,
 Now knowe I hire. And is this good Alceste,
 The dayesie, and myn owene hertes reste?
520 Now fele I weel the goodnesse of this wyf,
 That both aftir hir deth and in hir lyf
 Hir grete bounte doubleth hire renoun.
 Wel hath she quyt me myn affeccioun
 That I have to hire flour, the dayesye.
 No wonder ys thogh Jove hire stellyfye,
 As telleth Agaton, for hire goodnesse!
 Hire white corowne berith of hyt witnesse;
 For also many vertues hadde shee
 As smale florouns in hire corowne bee.
530 In remembraunce of hire and in honour
 Cibella maade the daysye and the flour
 Ycrowned al with whit, as men may see;
 And Mars yaf to hire corowne reed, pardee,
 In stede of rubyes, sette among the white."
 Therwith this queene wex reed for shame a lyte
 Whan she was preysed so in hire presence.
 Thanne seyde Love, "A ful gret necligence
 Was yt to the, that ylke tyme thou made
 `Hyd, Absolon, thy tresses,' in balade,
540 That thou forgate hire in thi song to sette,
 Syn that thou art so gretly in hire dette,
 And wost so wel that kalender ys shee
 To any woman that wol lover bee.
 For she taught al the craft of fyn lovynge,
 And namely of wyfhod the lyvynge,
 And al the boundes that she oghte kepe.
 Thy litel wit was thilke tyme aslepe.
 But now I charge the upon thy lyf
 That in thy legende thou make of thys wyf
550 Whan thou hast other smale ymaad before;
 And far now wel, I charge the namore.
 But er I goo, thus muche I wol the telle:
 Ne shal no trewe lover come in helle.
 Thise other ladies sittynge here arowe
 Ben in thy balade, yf thou kanst hem knowe,
 And in thy bookes alle thou shalt hem fynde.
 Have hem now in thy legende al in mynde;
 I mene of hem that ben in thy knowynge.
 For here ben twenty thousand moo sittynge
560 Than thou knowest, goode wommen alle,
 And trewe of love for oght that may byfalle.
 Make the metres of hem as the lest --
 I mot goon hom (the sonne draweth west)
 To paradys, with al this companye --
 And serve alwey the fresshe dayesye.
 At Cleopatre I wol that thou begynne,
 And so forth, and my love so shal thou wynne.
 For lat see now what man that lover be,
 Wol doon so strong a peyne for love as she.
570 I wot wel that thou maist nat al yt ryme
 That swiche lovers diden in hire tyme;
 It were to long to reden and to here.
 Suffiseth me thou make in this manere:
 That thou reherce of al hir lyf the grete,
 After thise olde auctours lysten for to trete.
 For whoso shal so many a storye telle,
 Sey shortly, or he shal to longe dwelle."
 And with that word my bokes gan I take,
 And ryght thus on my Legende gan I make.

---

The Legend of Good Women

Prologue G

 A thousand sythes have I herd men telle
 That there is joye in hevene and peyne in helle,
 And I acorde wel that it be so;
 But natheles, this wot I wel also,
 That there ne is non that dwelleth in this contre
 That eyther hath in helle or hevene ybe,
 Ne may of it non other weyes witen
 But as he hath herd seyd or founde it writen;
 For by assay there may no man it preve.
10 But Goddes forbode but men shulde leve
 Wel more thyng than men han seyn with ye!
 Men shal nat wenen every thyng a lye
 For that he say it nat of yore ago.
 God wot a thyng is nevere the lesse so
 Thow every wyght ne may it nat yse.
 Bernard the monk ne say nat al, parde!
 Thanne mote we to bokes that we fynde,
 Thourgh whiche that olde thynges ben in mynde,
 And to the doctryne of these olde wyse
20 Yeven credence, in every skylful wyse,
 And trowen on these olde aproved storyes
 Of holynesse, of regnes, of victoryes,
 Of love, of hate, of othere sondry thynges,
 Of which I may nat make rehersynges.
 And if that olde bokes weren aweye,
 Yloren were of remembrance the keye.
 Wel oughte us thanne on olde bokes leve,
 There as there is non other assay by preve.
 And as for me, though that my wit be lite,
30 On bokes for to rede I me delyte,
 And in myn herte have hem in reverence,
 And to hem yeve swich lust and swich credence
 That there is wel unethe game non
 That fro my bokes make me to gon,
 But it be other upon the halyday,
 Or ellis in the joly tyme of May,
 Whan that I here the smale foules synge,
 And that the floures gynne for to sprynge.
 Farwel my stodye, as lastynge that sesoun!
40 Now have I therto this condicioun,
 That, of alle the floures in the mede,
 Thanne love I most these floures white and rede,
 Swyche as men calle dayesyes in oure toun.
 To hem have I so gret affeccioun,
 As I seyde erst, whan comen is the May,
 That in my bed there daweth me no day
 That I n' am up and walkynge in the mede
 To sen these floures agen the sonne sprede
 Whan it up ryseth by the morwe shene,
50 The longe day thus walkynge in the grene.
 And whan the sonne gynneth for to weste,
 Thanne closeth it, and draweth it to reste,
 So sore it is afered of the nyght,
 Til on the morwe that it is dayes lyght.
 This dayesye, of alle floures flour,
 Fulfyld of vertu and of alle honour,
 And evere ylike fayr and fresh of hewe,
 As wel in wynter as in somer newe,
 Fayn wolde I preysen, if I coude aryght;
60 But wo is me, it lyth nat in my myght.
 For wel I wot that folk han here-beforn
 Of makyng ropen, and lad awey the corn;
 [And] I come after, glenynge here and there,
 And am ful glad if I may fynde an ere
 Of any goodly word that they han left.
 And if it happe me rehersen eft
 That they han in here freshe songes said,
 I hope that they wole nat ben evele apayd,
 Sith it is seyd in fortheryng and honour
70 Of hem that eyther serven lef or flour.
 For trusteth wel, I ne have nat undertake
 As of the lef agayn the flour to make,
 Ne of the flour to make ageyn the lef,
 No more than of the corn agen the shef;
 For, as to me, is lefer non, ne lother.
 I am witholde yit with never nother;
 I not who serveth lef ne who the flour.
 That nys nothyng the entent of my labour.
 For this werk is al of another tonne,
80 Of olde story, er swich strif was begonne.
 But wherfore that I spak, to yeve credence
 To bokes olde and don hem reverence,
 Is for men shulde autoritees beleve,
 There as there lyth non other assay by preve.
 For myn entent is, or I fro yow fare,
 The naked text in English to declare
 Of many a story, or elles of many a geste,
 As autours seyn; leveth hem if yow leste.
 Whan passed was almost the month of May,
90 And I hadde romed, al the someres day,
 The grene medewe, of which that I yow tolde,
 Upon the freshe dayseie to beholde,
 And that the sonne out of the south gan weste,
 And closed was the flour and gon to reste,
 For derknesse of the nyght, of which she dredde,
 Hom to myn hous ful swiftly I me spedde,
 And in a lytel herber that I have,
 Ybenched newe with turves fresshe ygrave,
 I bad men shulde me my couche make;
100 For deynte of the newe someres sake,
 I bad hem strowe floures on my bed.
 Whan I was layd, and hadde myn eyen hed,
 I fel aslepe withinne an hour or two.
 Me mette how I was in the medewe tho,
 And that I romede in that same gyse,
 To sen that flour, as ye han herd devyse.
 Fayr was this medewe, as thoughte me, overal;
 With floures sote enbrouded was it al.
 As for to speke of gomme, or herbe, or tre,
110 Comparisoun may non ymaked be;
 For it surmountede pleynly alle odoures,
 And of ryche beaute alle floures.
 Forgeten hadde the erthe his pore estat
 Of wynter, that hym naked made and mat,
 And with his swerd of cold so sore hadde greved.
 Now hadde th' atempre sonne al that releved,
 And clothed hym in grene al newe ageyn.
 The smale foules, of the seson fayn,
 That from the panter and the net ben skaped,
120 Upon the foulere, that hem made awhaped
 In wynter, and distroyed hadde hire brod,
 In his dispit hem thoughte it dide hem good
 To synge of hym, and in here song despise
 The foule cherl that for his coveytyse
 Hadde hem betrayed with his sophistrye.
 This was here song, "The foulere we defye,
 [And] [al] [his] [craft]." [And] [some] [songen] [clere]
 [Layes] of love that joye it was to here,
 In worshipe and in preysyng of hire make;
130 And [for] the newe blysful somers sake,
 [They] sungen, "Blyssed be Seynt Valentyn!
 [For] [on] his day I ches yow to be myn,
 Withoute repentynge, myn herte swete!"
 And therwithal here bekes gonne mete,
 [Yelding] honour and humble obeysaunces;
 And after diden othere observaunces
 Ryht [longing] onto love and to nature;
 So ech of hem [doth] [wel] to creature.
 This song to herkenen I dide al myn entente,
140 For-why I mette I wiste what they mente,
 Tyl at the laste a larke son above:
 "I se," quod she, "the myghty god of Love.
 Lo! yond he cometh! I se his wynges sprede."
 Tho gan I loken endelong the mede
 And saw hym come, and in his hond a quene
 Clothed in real habyt al of grene.
 A fret of goold she hadde next hyre her
 And upon that a whit corone she ber
 With many floures, and I shal nat lye;
150 For al the world, ryght as the dayesye
 Ycorouned is with white leves lite,
 Swiche were the floures of hire coroune white.
 For of o perle fyn and oryental
 Hyre white coroun was ymaked al;
 For which the white coroun above the grene
 Made hire lyk a dayesye for to sene,
 Considered ek the fret of gold above.
 Yclothed was this myghty god of Love
 Of silk, ybrouded ful of grene greves,
160 A garlond on his hed of rose-leves
 Stiked al with lylye floures newe.
 But of his face I can not seyn the hewe,
 For sikerly his face shon so bryghte
 That with the glem astoned was the syghte;
 A furlong-wey I myhte hym not beholde.
 But at the laste in hande I saw hym holde
 Two firy dartes as the gleedes rede,
 And aungellych hys winges gan he sprede.
 And al be that men seyn that blynd is he,
170 Algate me thoughte he myghte wel yse;
 For sternely on me he gan beholde,
 So that his lokynge doth myn herte colde.
 And by the hond he held the noble quene
 Corouned with whit and clothed al in grene,
 So womanly, so benygne, and so meke,
 That in this world, thogh that men wolde seke,
 Half hire beaute shulde men nat fynde
 In creature that formed is by kynde.
 Hire name was Alceste the debonayre.
180 I preye to God that evere falle she fayre,
 For ne hadde confort been of hire presence,
 I hadde be ded, withouten any defence,
 For dred of Loves wordes and his chere,
 As, whan tyme is, hereafter ye shal here.
 Byhynde this god of Love, upon this grene,
 I saw comynge of ladyes nyntene
 In real habyt, a ful esy pas,
 And after hem come of wemen swich a tras
 That, syn that God Adam [had] mad of erthe,
190 The thridde part of wemen, ne the ferthe,
 Ne wende I not by possibilite
 Hadden evere in this [wyde] world ybe;
 And trewe of love these wemen were echon.
 Now whether was that a wonder thyng or non,
 That ryght anon as that they gonne espye
 This flour, which that I clepe the dayesye,
 Ful sodeynly they stynten alle atones,
 And knelede adoun, as it were for the nones.
 And after that they wenten in compas,
200 Daunsynge aboute this flour an esy pas,
 And songen, as it were in carole-wyse,
 This balade, which that I shal yow devyse.
 Hyd, Absalon, thy gilte tresses clere;
 Ester, ley thow thy meknesse al adoun;
 Hyd, Jonathas, al thyn frendly manere;
 Penelope and Marcia Catoun,
 Mak of youre wyfhod no comparisoun;
 Hyde ye youre beautes, Ysoude and Eleyne:
 Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne.
210 Thy fayre body, lat it nat apeere,
 Laveyne; and thow, Lucresse of Rome toun,
 And Polixene, that boughte love so dere,
 Ek Cleopatre, with al thy passioun,
 Hide ye youre trouth in love and youre renoun;
 And thow, Tysbe, that hast for love swich peyne:
 Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne.
 Herro, Dido, Laodomya, alle in-fere,
 Ek Phillis, hangynge for thy Demophoun,
 And Canace, espied by thy chere,
220 Ysiphile, betrayed with Jasoun,
 Mak of youre trouthe in love no bost ne soun;
 Nor Ypermystre or Adriane, ne pleyne
 Alceste is here, that al that may disteyne.
 Whan that this balade al ysongen was,
 Upon the softe and sote grene gras
 They setten hem ful softely adoun,
 By order alle in compas, enveroun.
 Fyrst sat the god of Love, and thanne this queene
 With the white corone, clad in grene,
230 And sithen al the remenant by and by,
 As they were of degre, ful curteysly;
 Ne nat a word was spoken in that place
 The mountaunce of a furlong-wey of space.
 I, lenynge faste by under a bente,
 Abod to knowe what this peple mente,
 As stille as any ston, til at the laste
 The god of Love on me his eye caste
 And seyde, "Who restith there?" And I answerde
 Unto his axynge, whan that I hym herde,
240 And seyde, "Sire, it am I," and cam hym ner,
 And salewede hym. Quod he, "What dost thow her
 In my presence, and that so boldely?
 For it were better worthi, trewely,
 A worm to comen in my syght than thow."
 "And why, sire," quod I, "and it lyke yow?"
 "For thow," quod he, "art therto nothyng able.
 My servaunts ben alle wyse and honourable.
 Thow art my mortal fo and me werreyest,
 And of myne olde servauntes thow mysseyest,
250 And hynderest hem with thy translacyoun,
 And lettest folk to han devocyoun
 To serven me, and holdest it folye
 To truste on me. Thow mayst it nat denye,
 For in pleyn text, it nedeth nat to glose,
 Thow hast translated the Romauns of the Rose,
 That is an heresye ageyns my lawe,
 And makest wise folk fro me withdrawe;
 And thynkest in thy wit, that is ful col,
 That he nys but a verray propre fol
260 That loveth paramours to harde and hote.
 Wel wot I therby thow begynnyst dote,
 As olde foles whan here spiryt fayleth;
 Thanne blame they folk, and wite nat what hem ayleth.
 Hast thow nat mad in Englysh ek the bok
 How that Crisseyde Troylus forsok,
 In shewynge how that wemen han don mis?
 But natheles, answere me now to this;
 Why noldest thow as wel [han] seyd goodnesse
 Of wemen, as thow hast seyd wikednesse?
270 Was there no good matere in thy mynde,
 Ne in alle thy bokes ne coudest thow nat fynde
 Som story of wemen that were goode and trewe?
 Yis, God wot, sixty bokes olde and newe
 Hast thow thyself, alle ful of storyes grete,
 That bothe Romayns and ek Grekes trete
 Of sundry wemen, which lyf that they ladde,
 And evere an hundred goode ageyn oon badde.
 This knoweth God, and alle clerkes eke
 That usen swiche materes for to seke.
280 What seith Valerye, Titus, or Claudyan?
 What seith Jerome agayns Jovynyan?
 How clene maydenes and how trewe wyves,
 How stedefaste widewes durynge alle here lyves,
 Telleth Jerome, and that nat of a fewe,
 But, I dar seyn, an hundred on a rewe,
 That it is pite for to rede, and routhe,
 The wo that they endure for here trouthe
 For to hyre love were they so trewe
 That, rathere than they wolde take a newe,
290 They chose to be ded in sondry wyse,
 And deiden, as the story wol devyse;
 And some were brend, and some were cut the hals,
 And some dreynt for they wolden not be fals;
 For alle keped they here maydenhede,
 Or elles wedlok, or here widewehede.
 And this thing was nat kept for holynesse,
 But al for verray vertu and clennesse,
 And for men schulde sette on hem no lak;
 And yit they were hethene, al the pak,
300 That were so sore adrad of alle shame.
 These olde wemen kepte so here name
 That in this world I trowe men shal nat fynde
 A man that coude be so trewe and kynde
 As was the leste woman in that tyde.
 What seyth also the epistel of Ovyde
 Of trewe wyves and of here labour?
 What Vincent in his Estoryal Myrour?
 Ek al the world of autours maystow here,
 Cristene and hethene, trete of swich matere;
310 It nedeth nat al day thus for to endite.
 But yit, I seye, what eyleth the to wryte
 The draf of storyes, and forgete the corn?
 By Seynt Venus, of whom that I was born,
 Althogh thow reneyed hast my lay,
 As othere olde foles many a day,
 Thow shalt repente it, so that it shal be sene!"
 Thanne spak Alceste, the worthyeste queene,
 And seyde, "God, ryght of youre curteysye,
 Ye moten herkenen if he can replye
320 Ageyns these poynts that ye han to hym meved.
 A god ne sholde not thus been agreved,
 But of his deite he shal be stable,
 And therto ryghtful, and ek mercyable.
 He shal nat ryghtfully his yre wreke
 Or he have herd the tother partye speke.
 Al ne is nat gospel that is to yow pleyned;
 The god of Love hereth many a tale yfeyned.
 For in youre court is many a losengeour,
 And many a queynte totelere accusour,
330 That tabouren in youre eres many a thyng
 For hate, or for jelous ymagynyng,
 And for to han with you som dalyaunce.
 Envye -- I preye to God yeve hire myschaunce! --
 Is lavender in the grete court alway,
 For she ne parteth, neyther nyght ne day,
 Out of the hous of Cesar; thus seyth Dante;
 Whoso that goth, alwey she mot [nat] wante.
 This man to yow may wrongly ben acused,
 There as by ryght hym oughte ben excusid.
340 Or elles, sire, for that this man is nyce,
 He may translate a thyng in no malyce,
 But for he useth bokes for to make,
 And taketh non hed of what matere he take,
 Therfore he wrot the Rose and ek Crisseyde
 Of innocence, and nyste what he seyde.
 Or hym was boden make thilke tweye
 Of som persone, and durste it not withseye;
 For he hath write many a bok er this.
 He ne hath not don so grevously amys
350 To translate that olde clerkes wryte,
 As thogh that he of maleys wolde endyte
 Despit of love, and hadde hymself ywrought.
 This shulde a ryghtwys lord han in his thought,
 And not ben lyk tyraunts of Lumbardye,
 That usen wilfulhed and tyrannye.
 For he that kyng or lord is naturel,
 Hym oughte nat be tyraunt and crewel
 As is a fermour, to don the harm he can.
 He moste thynke it is his lige man,
360 And that hym oweth, of verray duetee,
 Shewen his peple pleyn benygnete,
 And wel to heren here excusacyouns,
 And here compleyntes and petyciouns,
 In duewe tyme, whan they shal it profre.
 This is the sentence of the Philosophre,
 A kyng to kepe his lyges in justice;
 Withouten doute, that is his office.
 And therto is a kyng ful depe ysworn
 Ful many an hundred wynter herebeforn;
370 And for to kepe his lordes hir degre,
 As it is ryght and skylful that they be
 Enhaunsed and honoured, [and] most dere --
 For they ben half-goddes in this world here --
 This shal he don bothe to pore [and] ryche,
 Al be that her estat be nat alyche,
 And han of pore folk compassioun.
 For lo, the gentyl kynde of the lyoun:
 For whan a flye offendeth hym or byteth,
 He with his tayl awey the flye smyteth
380 Al esyly; for, of his genterye,
 Hym deyneth nat to wreke hym on a flye,
 As doth a curre, or elles another best.
 In noble corage oughte ben arest,
 And weyen every thing by equite,
 And evere han reward to his owen degre.
 For, sire, it is no maystrye for a lord
 To dampne a man withoute answere or word,
 And, for a lord, that is ful foul to use.
 And if so be he may hym nat excuse,
390 [But] axeth mercy with a sorweful herte,
 And profereth hym, ryght in his bare sherte,
 To been ryght at youre owene jugement,
 Than ought a god, by short avisement,
 Considere his owene honour and his trespas.
 For syth no cause of deth lyth in this cas,
 Yow oughte to ben the lyghter merciable;
 Leteth youre yre, and beth somwhat tretable.
 The man hath served yow of his konnynge,
 And forthered [wel] youre lawe with his makynge.
400 Whil he was yong, he kepte youre estat;
 I not wher he be now a renegat.
 But wel I wot, with that he can endyte
 He hath maked lewed folk to delyte
 To serven yow, in preysynge of youre name.
 He made the bok that highte the Hous of Fame,
 And ek the Deth of Blaunche the Duchesse,
 And the Parlement of Foules, as I gesse,
 And al the love of Palamon and Arcite
 Of Thebes, thogh the storye is knowen lite;
410 And many an ympne for your halydayes,
 That highten balades, roundeles, vyrelayes;
 And, for to speke of other besynesse,
 He hath in prose translated Boece,
 And Of the Wreched Engendrynge of Mankynde,
 As man may in Pope Innocent yfynde;
 And mad the lyf also of Seynt Cecile.
 He made also, gon is a gret while,
 Orygenes upon the Maudeleyne.
 Hym oughte now to have the lesse peyne;
420 He hath mad many a lay and many a thyng.
 Now as ye ben a god and ek a kyng,
 I, youre Alceste, whilom quene of Trace,
 I axe yow this man, ryght of youre grace,
 That ye hym nevere hurte in al his lyve;
 And he shal swere to yow, and that as blyve,
 He shal no more agilten in this wyse,
 But he shal maken, as ye wol devyse,
 Of women trewe in lovynge al here lyve,
 Wherso ye wol, of mayden or of wyve,
430 And fortheren yow as muche as he mysseyde
 Or in the Rose or elles in Crisseyde."
 The god of Love answerede hire thus anon:
 "Madame," quod he, "it is so longe agon
 That I yow knew so charytable and trewe,
 That nevere yit sith that the world was newe
 To me ne fond I betere non than ye;
 That, if that I wol save my degre,
 I may, ne wol, not warne youre requeste.
 Al lyth in yow, doth with hym what yow leste;
440 And al foryeve, withoute lenger space.
 For whoso yeveth a yifte or doth a grace,
 Do it by tyme, his thank is wel the more.
 And demeth ye what he shal do therfore.
 Go thanke now my lady here," quod he.
 I ros, and doun I sette me on my kne,
 And seyde thus, "Madame, the God above
 Foryelde yow that ye the god of Love
 Han maked me his wrathe to foryive,
 And yeve me grace so longe for to live
450 That I may knowe sothly what ye be
 That han me holpen and put in swich degre.
 But trewely I wende, as in this cas,
 Naught have agilt, ne don to love trespas.
 For-why a trewe man, withoute drede,
 Hath nat to parte with a theves dede;
 Ne a trewe lovere oghte me nat to blame
 Thogh that I speke a fals lovere som shame.
 They oughte rathere with me for to holde
 For that I of Criseyde wrot or tolde,
460 Or of the Rose; what so myn auctour mente,
 Algate, God wot, it was myn entente
 To forthere trouthe in love and it cheryce,
 And to be war fro falsnesse and fro vice
 By swich ensaumple; this was my menynge."
 And she answerde, "Lat be thyn arguynge,
 For Love ne wol nat counterpletyd be
 In ryght ne wrong; and lerne this at me!
 Thow hast thy grace, and hold the ryght therto.
 Now wol I seyn what penaunce thow shalt do
470 For thy trespas, and understond it here:
 Thow shalt, whil that thow livest, yer by yere,
 The moste partye of thy tyme spende
 In makynge of a gloryous legende
 Of goode women, maydenes and wyves,
 That were trewe in lovynge al here lyves;
 And telle of false men that hem betrayen,
 That al here lyf ne don nat but assayen
 How manye wemen they may don a shame;
 For in youre world that is now holden game.
480 And thogh the lesteth nat a lovere be,
 Spek wel of love; this penaunce yeve I thee.
 And to the god of Love I shal so preye
 That he shal charge his servaunts by any weye
 To fortheren the, and wel thy labour quite.
 Go now thy wey, thy penaunce is but lyte."
 The god of Love gan smyle, and thanne he seyde:
 "Wostow," quod he, "wher this be wif or mayde,
 Or queen, or countesse, or of what degre,
 That hath so lytel penaunce yiven the,
490 That hast deserved sorer for to smerte?
 But pite renneth sone in gentil herte;
 That mayst thow sen; she kytheth what she is."
 And I answerde, "Nay, sire, so have I blys,
 No more but that I se wel she is good."
 "That is a trewe tale, by myn hood!"
 Quod Love, "and that thow knowest wel, parde,
 Yif it be so that thow avise the.
 Hast thow nat in a bok, lyth in thy cheste,
 The grete goodnesse of the queene Alceste,
500 That turned was into a dayesye;
 She that for hire husbonde ches to dye,
 And ek to gon to helle rather than he,
 And Ercules rescued hire, parde,
 And broughte hyre out of helle ageyn to blys?"
 And I answerde ayen, and seyde, "Yis,
 Now knowe I hire. And is this goode Alceste,
 The dayesye, and myn owene hertes reste?
 Now fele I wel the goodnesse of this wif,
 That bothe after hire deth and in hire lyf
510 Hire grete bounte doubleth hire renoun.
 Wel hath she quit me myn affeccioun
 That I have to hire flour, the dayesye.
 No wonder is thogh Jove hire stellifye,
 As telleth Agaton, for hyre goodnesse!
 Hire white coroun bereth of it witnesse;
 For also manye vertues hadde she
 As smale flourys in hyre coroun be.
 In remembraunce of hire and in honour
 Cibella made the dayesye and the flour
520 Ycoroned al with whit, as men may se;
 And Mars yaf to hire corone red, parde,
 In stede of rubies, set among the white."
 Therwith this queene wex red for shame a lyte
 Whan she was preysed so in hire presence.
 Thanne seyde Love, "A ful gret neglygence
 Was it to the, to write unstedefastnesse
 Of women, sith thow knowest here goodnesse
 By pref, and ek by storyes herebyforn.
 Let be the chaf, and writ wel of the corn.
530 Why noldest thow han writen of Alceste,
 And laten Criseide ben aslepe and reste?
 For of Alceste shulde thy wrytynge be,
 Syn that thow wost that calandier is she
 Of goodnesse, for she taughte of fyn lovynge,
 And namely of wifhod the lyvynge,
 And alle the boundes that she oughte kepe.
 Thy litel wit was thilke tyme aslepe.
 But now I charge the upon thy lyf
 That in thy legende thow make of this wif
540 Whan thow hast othere smale mad byfore;
 And far now wel, I charge the no more.
 At Cleopatre I wol that thow begynne,
 And so forth, and my love so shalt thow wynne."
 And with that word, of slep I gan awake,
 And ryght thus on my Legende gan I make.

---

The Legend of Good Women

The Legends

580 After the deth of Tholome the kyng,
 That al Egipt hadde in his governyng,
 Regned his queene Cleopataras;
 Tyl on a tyme befel there swich a cas
 That out of Rome was sent a senatour
 For to conqueren regnes and honour
 Unto the toun of Rome, as was usaunce,
 To han the world at hire obesaunce,
 And soth to seyne, Antonius was his name.
 So fil it, as Fortune hym oughte a shame,
590 Whan he was fallen in prosperite
 Rebel unto the toun of Rome is he.
 And over al this, the suster of Cesar,
 He lafte hire falsly, or that she was war,
 And wolde algates han another wyf,
 For which he tok with Rome and Cesar stryf.
 Natheles, for sothe, this ilke senatour
 Was a ful worthy gentil werreyour,
 And of his deth it was ful gret damage.
 But love hadde brought this man in swich a rage
600 And hym so narwe bounden in his las,
 Al for the love of Cleopataras,
 That al the world he sette at no value.
 Hym thoughte there nas nothyng to hym so due
 As Cleopatras for to love and serve;
 Hym roughte nat in armes for to sterve
 In the defence of hyre and of hire ryght.
 This noble queene ek lovede so this knyght,
 Thourgh his desert, and for his chyvalrye;
 As certeynly, but if that bokes lye,
610 He was, of persone and of gentillesse,
 And of discrecioun and hardynesse,
 Worthi to any wyght that liven may;
 And she was fayr as is the rose in May.
 And, for to make shortly is the beste,
 She wax his wif, and hadde hym as hire leste.
 The weddynge and the feste to devyse,
 To me, that have ytake swich empryse
 Of so many a story for to make,
 It were to longe, lest that I shulde slake
620 Of thyng that bereth more effect and charge;
 For men may overlade a ship or barge.
 And forthy to th' effect thanne wol I skyppe,
 And al the remenaunt, I wol lete it slippe.
 Octovyan, that wod was of this dede,
 Shop hym an ost on Antony to lede
 Al uterly for his destruccioun,
 With stoute Romeyns, crewel as lyoun;
 To ship they wente, and thus I lat hem sayle.
 Antonius was war, and wol nat fayle
630 To meten with these Romeyns, if he may;
 Tok ek his red, and bothe, upon a day,
 His wif and he, and al his ost, forth wente
 To shipe anon, no lengere they ne stente;
 And in the se it happede hem to mete.
 Up goth the trompe, and for to shoute and shete,
 And peynen hem to sette on with the sunne.
 With grysely soun out goth the grete gonne,
 And heterly they hurtelen al atones,
 And from the top doun come the grete stones.
640 In goth the grapenel, so ful of crokes;
 Among the ropes renne the sherynge-hokes.
 In with the polax preseth he and he;
 Byhynde the mast begynnyth he to fle,
 And out ageyn, and dryveth hym overbord;
 He styngeth hym upon his speres ord;
 He rent the seyl with hokes lyke a sithe;
 He bryngeth the cuppe and biddeth hem be blythe;
 He poureth pesen upon the haches slidere;
 With pottes ful of lyme they gon togidere;
650 And thus the longe day in fyght they spende,
 Tyl at the laste, as every thyng hath ende,
 Antony is schent and put hym to the flyghte,
 And al his folk to-go that best go myghte.
 Fleth ek the queen, with al hire purpre sayl,
 For strokes, whiche that wente as thikke as hayl;
 No wonder was she myghte it nat endure.
 And whan that Antony saw that aventure,
 "Allas," quod he, "the day that I was born!
 My worshipe in this day thus have I lorn."
660 And for dispeyr out of his wit he sterte
 And rof hymself anon thourghout the herte
 Or that he ferther wente out of the place.
 His wif, that coude of Cesar have no grace,
 To Egipt is fled for drede and for destresse.
 But herkeneth, ye that speken of kyndenesse,
 Ye men that falsly sweren many an oth
 That ye wol deye if that youre love be wroth,
 Here may ye sen of wemen which a trouthe!
 This woful Cleopatre hath mad swich routhe
670 That ther is tonge non that may it telle.
 But on the morwe she wolde no lengere dwelle,
 But made hire subtyl werkmen make a shryne
 Of alle the rubyes and the stones fyne
 In al Egypte that she coude espie,
 And putte ful the shryne of spicerye,
 And let the cors enbaume, and forth she fette
 This dede cors, and in the shryne it shette.
 And next the shryne a pit thanne doth she grave,
 And alle the serpentes that she myghte have,
680 She putte hem in that grave, and thus she seyde:
 "Now, love, to whom my sorweful herte obeyde
 So ferforthly that from that blisful houre
 That I yow swor to ben al frely youre --
 I mene yow, Antonius, my knyght --
 That nevere wakynge, in the day or nyght,
 Ye nere out of myn hertes remembraunce,
 For wel or wo, for carole or for daunce;
 And in myself this covenaunt made I tho,
 That ryght swich as ye felten, wel or wo,
690 As fer forth as it in my power lay,
 Unreprovable unto my wyfhod ay,
 The same wolde I fele, lyf or deth --
 And thilke covenant whil me lasteth breth
 I wol fulfille; and that shal ben wel sene,
 Was nevere unto hire love a trewer quene."
 And with that word, naked, with ful good herte,
 Among the serpents in the pit she sterte,
 And there she ches to have hire buryinge.
 Anon the nadderes gonne hire for to stynge,
700 And she hire deth receyveth with good cheere
 For love of Antony that was hire so dere.
 And this is storyal soth, it is no fable.
 Now, or I fynde a man thus trewe and stable,
 And wol for love his deth so frely take,
 I preye God let oure hedes nevere ake! Amen.
 At Babiloyne whylom fil it thus,
 The whyche toun the queen Semyramus
 Let dychen al aboute and walles make
 Ful hye, of hard tiles wel ybake:
710 There were dwellyng in this noble toun
 Two lordes, whiche that were of gret renoun,
 And woneden so nygh, upon a grene,
 That there nas but a ston-wal hem betweene,
 As ofte in grete tounes is the wone.
 And soth to seyne, that o man hadde a sone,
 Of al that lond oon of the lustyeste.
 That other hadde a doughter, the fayreste
 That estward in the world was tho dwellynge.
 The name of everych gan to other sprynge
720 By women that were neighebores aboute.
 For in that contre yit, withouten doute,
 Maydenes been ykept, for jelosye,
 Ful streyte, lest they diden som folye.
 This yonge man was called Piramus,
 Tysbe hight the maide, Naso seyth thus;
 And thus by report was hire name yshove
 That, as they wex in age, wex here love.
 And certeyn, as by resoun of hire age,
 There myghte have ben bytwixe hem maryage,
730 But that here fadres nolde it nat assente;
 And bothe in love ylyke sore they brente,
 That non of alle hyre frendes myght it lette,
 But pryvyly som tyme yit they mette
 By sleyghte, and spoken som of here desyr;
 As wry the glede and hotter is the fyr,
 Forbede a love, and it is ten so wod.
 This wal, which that bitwixe hem bothe stod,
 Was clove a-two, ryght from the cop adoun,
 Of olde tyme of his fundacioun;
740 But yit this clyfte was so narw and lyte
 It nas nat sene, deere ynogh a myte.
 But what is that that love can nat espye?
 Ye loveres two, if that I shal nat lye,
 Ye founden first this litel narwe clifte;
 And with a soun as softe as any shryfte,
 They lete here wordes thourgh the clifte pace,
 And tolden, whil that they stode in the place,
 Al here compleynt of love and al here wo,
 At every tyme whan they durste so.
750 Upon that o syde of the wal stod he,
 And on that other side stod Thesbe,
 The swote soun of other to receyve.
 And thus here wardeyns wolde they deceyve,
 And every day this wal they wolde threte,
 And wisshe to God that it were doun ybete.
 Thus wolde they seyn: "Alas, thow wikkede wal!
 Thorgh thyn envye thow us lettest al.
 Why nylt thow cleve or fallen al a-two?
 Or at the leste, but thou woldist so,
760 Yit woldest thow but ones lat us mete,
 Or ones that we myghte kyssen swete,
 Thanne were we covered of oure cares colde.
 But, natheles, yit be we to thee holde,
 In as muche as thow sufferest for to gon
 Oure wordes thourgh thy lym and ek thy ston.
 Yit oughte we with the been wel apayd."
 And whan these ydele wordes weren sayd,
 The colde wal they wolden kysse of ston,
 And take here leve and forth they wolden gon.
770 And this was gladly in the eve-tyde,
 Or wonder erly, lest men it espyde.
 And longe tyme they wroughte in this manere,
 Tyl on a day, whan Phebus gan to cleere --
 Aurora with the stremes of hire hete
 Hadde dreyed up the dew of herbes wete --
 Unto this clyft, as it was wont to be,
 Com Piramus, and after com Thysbe,
 And plyghten trouthe fully in here fey
 That ilke same nyght to stele awey,
780 And to begile here wardeyns everichon,
 And forth out of the cite for to goon;
 And, for the feldes ben so brode and wide,
 For to mete in o place at o tyde,
 They sette mark here metynge sholde be
 There kyng Nynus was grave under a tre --
 For olde payens that idoles heryed
 Useden tho in feldes to ben beryed --
 And faste by this grave was a welle.
 And shortly of this tale for to telle,
790 This covenaunt was affermed wonder faste;
 And longe hem thoughte that the sonne laste,
 That it nere gon under the se adoun.
 This Tisbe hath so gret affeccioun
 And so gret lykinge Piramus to se,
 That whan she say hire tyme myghte be,
 At nyght she stal awey ful pryvyly,
 With hire face ywympled subtyly;
 For alle hire frendes -- for to save hire trouthe --
 She hath forsake; allas, and that is routhe
800 That evere woman wolde ben so trewe
 To truste man, but she the bet hym knewe.
 And to the tre she goth a ful good pas,
 For love made hire so hardy in this cas,
 And by the welle adoun she gan hyre dresse.
 Allas! Than cometh a wilde lyonesse
 Out of the wode, withoute more arest,
 With blody mouth, of strangelynge of a best,
 To drynken of the welle there as she sat.
 And whan that Tisbe hadde espyed that,
810 She rist hire up, with a ful drery herte,
 And in a cave with dredful fot she sterte,
 For by the mone she say it wel withalle.
 And as she ran hire wympel let she falle
 And tok non hed, so sore she was awhaped,
 And ek so glad that that she was escaped;
 And thus she sit and darketh wonder stylle.
 Whan that this lyonesse hath dronke hire fille,
 Aboute the welle gan she for to wynde,
 And ryght anon the wympel gan she fynde,
820 And with hire blody mouth it al torente.
 Whan this was don, no lengere she ne stente,
 But to the wode hire weye thanne hath she nome.
 And at the laste this Piramus is come;
 But al to longe, allas, at hom was he!
 The mone shon, and he myghte wel yse,
 And in his wey, as that he com ful faste.
 His eyen to the ground adoun he caste,
 And in the sond, as he byheld adoun,
 He sey the steppes brode of a lyoun,
830 And in his herte he sodeynly agros,
 And pale he wex; therwith his heer aros,
 And ner he com, and fond the wimpel torn.
 "Allas," quod he, "the day that I was born!
 This o nyght wol us lovers bothe sle!
 How shulde I axe mercy of Tisbe,
 Whan I am he that have yow slayn, allas!
 My biddyng hath yow slayn, as in this cas.
 Allas, to bidde a woman gon by nyghte
 In place there as peril falle myghte!
840 And I so slow! Allas, I ne hadde be
 Here in this place a furlong wey or ye!
 Now what lyoun that be in this forest,
 My body mote he renten, or what best
 That wilde is, gnawe mote he now myn herte!"
 And with that word he to the wympel sterte,
 And kiste it ofte, and wep on it ful sore,
 And seyde, "Wympel, allas! There is no more
 But thow shalt feele as wel the blod of me
 As thow hast felt the bledyng of Thisbe!"
850 And with that word he smot hym to the herte.
 The blod out of the wounde as brode sterte
 As water whan the condit broken is.
 Now Tisbe, which that wiste nat of this,
 But sittynge in hire drede, she thoughte thus:
 "If it so falle that my Piramus
 Be comen hider, and may me not yfynde,
 He may me holde fals and ek unkynde."
 And out she cometh and after hym gan espien,
 Bothe with hire herte and with hire yen,
860 And thoughte, "I wol hym tellen of my drede,
 Bothe of the lyonesse and al my deede."
 And at the laste hire love thanne hath she founde,
 Betynge with his heles on the grounde,
 Al blody, and therwithal a-bak she sterte,
 And lik the wawes quappe gan hire herte,
 And pale as box she was, and in a throwe
 Avisede hire, and gan hym wel to knowe,
 That it was Piramus, hire herte deere.
 Who coude wryte which a dedly cheere
870 Hath Thisbe now, and how hire heer she rente,
 And how she gan hireselve to turmente,
 And how she lyth and swouneth on the grounde,
 And how she wep of teres ful his wounde;
 How medeleth she his blod with hire compleynte;
 How with his blod hireselve gan she peynte;
 How clyppeth she the deede cors, allas!
 How doth this woful Tisbe in this cas!
 How kysseth she his frosty mouth so cold!
 "Who hath don this, and who hath been so bold
880 To sle my leef? O spek, my Piramus!
 I am thy Tisbe, that the calleth thus."
 And therwithal she lifteth up his hed.
 This woful man, that was nat fully ded,
 Whan that he herde the name of Tisbe cryen,
 On hire he caste his hevy, dedly yen,
 And doun agayn, and yeldeth up the gost.
 Tysbe ryst up withouten noyse or bost,
 And saw hire wympel and his empty shethe,
 And ek his swerd that hym hath don to dethe.
890 Thanne spak she thus: "My woful hand," quod she,
 "Is strong ynogh in swich a werk to me;
 For love shal yeve me strengthe and hardynesse
 To make my wounde large ynogh, I gesse.
 I wol thee folwe ded, and I wol be
 Felawe and cause ek of thy deth," quod she.
 "And thogh that nothing, save the deth only,
 Mighte thee fro me departe trewely,
 Thow shalt no more departe now fro me
 Than fro the deth, for I wol go with thee.
900 And now, ye wrechede jelos fadres oure,
 We that whilom were children youre,
 We preyen yow, withouten more envye,
 That in o grave yfere we moten lye,
 Sith love hath brought us to this pitous ende.
 And ryghtwis God to every lovere sende,
 That loveth trewely, more prosperite
 Than evere yit had Piramus and Tisbe!
 And lat no gentil woman hyre assure
 To putten hire in swich an aventure.
910 But God forbede but a woman can
 Ben as trewe in lovynge as a man!
 And for my part, I shal anon it kythe."
 And with that word his swerd she tok as swythe,
 That warm was of hire loves blod, and hot,
 And to the herte she hireselven smot.
 And thus are Tisbe and Piramus ygo.
 Of trewe men I fynde but fewe mo
 In alle my bokes, save this Piramus,
 And therfore have I spoken of hym thus.
920 For it is deynte to us men to fynde
 A man that can in love been trewe and kynde.
 Here may ye se, what lovere so he be,
 A woman dar and can as wel as he.
 Glorye and honour, Virgil Mantoan,
 Be to thy name! and I shal, as I can,
 Folwe thy lanterne, as thow gost byforn,
 How Eneas to Dido was forsworn.
 In thyn Eneyde and Naso wol I take
 The tenor, and the grete effectes make.
930 Whan Troye brought was to destruccioun
 By Grekes sleyghte, and namely by Synoun,
 Feynynge the hors offered unto Mynerve,
 Thourgh which that many a Troyan moste sterve;
 And Ector hadde, after his deth, apeered;
 And fyr so wod it myghte nat been steered
 In al the noble tour of Ylioun,
 That of the cite was the chef dongeoun;
 And al the contre was so lowe ybrought,
 And Priamus the kyng fordon and nought;
940 And Enyas was charged by Venus
 To fleen awey, he tok Ascanius,
 That was his sone, in his ryght hand and fledde;
 And on his bak he bar and with hym ledde
 His olde fader cleped Anchises,
 And by the weye his wif Creusa he les.
 And moche sorwe hadde he in his mynde,
 Or that he coude his felaweshipe fynde.
 But at the laste, whan he hadde hem founde,
 He made hym redy in a certeyn stounde,
950 And to the se ful faste he gan him hye,
 And sayleth forth with al his companye
 Toward Ytayle, as wolde his destinee.
 But of his aventures in the se
 Nis nat to purpos for to speke of here,
 For it acordeth nat to my matere.
 But, as I seyde, of hym and of Dido
 Shal be my tale, til that I have do.
 So longe he saylede in the salte se
 Tyl in Libie unnethe aryvede he
960 With shipes sevene and with no more navye;
 And glad was he to londe for to hye,
 So was he with the tempest al toshake.
 And whan that he the haven hadde ytake,
 He hadde a knyght, was called Achates,
 And hym of al his felawshipe he ches
 To gon with hym, the cuntre for t' espie.
 He tok with hym no more companye,
 But forth they gon, and lafte his shipes ryde,
 His fere and he, withouten any gyde.
970 So longe he walketh in this wildernesse,
 Til at the laste he mette an hunteresse.
 A bowe in hande and arwes hadde she;
 Hire clothes cutted were unto the kne.
 But she was yit the fayreste creature
 That evere was yformed by Nature;
 And Eneas and Achates she grette,
 And thus she to hem spak whan she hem mette:
 "Saw ye," quod she, "as ye han walked wyde,
 Any of my sustren walke yow besyde
980 With any wilde bor or other best,
 That they han hunted to, in this forest,
 Ytukked up, with arwes in hire cas?"
 "Nay, sothly, lady," quod this Eneas;
 "But by thy beaute, as it thynketh me,
 Thow myghtest nevere erthly woman be,
 But Phebus syster art thow, as I gesse.
 And if so be that thow be a goddesse,
 Have mercy on oure labour and oure wo."
 "I n' am no goddesse, sothly," quod she tho;
990 "For maydens walken in this contre here,
 With arwes and with bowe, in this manere.
 This is the reyne of Libie there ye ben,
 Of which that Dido lady is and queen" --
 And shortly tolde hym al the occasyoun
 Why Dido cam into that regioun,
 Of which as now me lesteth nat to ryme;
 It nedeth nat, it were but los of tyme.
 For this is al and som, it was Venus,
 His owene moder, that spak with him thus,
1000 And to Cartage she bad he sholde hym dighte,
 And vanyshed anon out of his syghte.
 I coude folwe, word for word, Virgile,
 But it wolde lasten al to longe while.
 This noble queen that cleped was Dido,
 That whilom was the wif of Sytheo,
 That fayrer was than is the bryghte sonne,
 This noble toun of Cartage hath bigonne;
 In which she regneth in so gret honour
 That she was holden of alle queenes flour
1010 Of gentillesse, of fredom, of beaute,
 That wel was hym that myghte hire ones se;
 Of kynges and of lordes so desyred
 That al the world hire beaute hadde yfyred,
 She stod so wel in every wightes grace.
 Whan Eneas was come unto that place,
 Unto the mayster temple of al the toun
 Ther Dido was in hire devocyoun,
 Ful pryvyly his weye than hath he nome.
 Whan he was in the large temple come,
1020 I can nat seyn if that it be possible,
 But Venus hadde hym maked invysible --
 Thus seyth the bok, withouten any les.
 And whan this Eneas and Achates
 Hadden in this temple ben overal,
 Thanne founde they, depeynted on a wal,
 How Troye and al the lond destroyed was.
 "Allas, that I was born!" quod Eneas;
 "Thourghout the world oure shame is kid so wyde,
 Now it is peynted upon every syde.
1030 We, that weren in prosperite,
 Been now desclandred, and in swich degre,
 No lenger for to lyven I ne kepe."
 And with that word he brast out for to wepe
 So tenderly that routhe it was to sene.
 This fresshe lady, of the cite queene,
 Stod in the temple in hire estat real,
 So rychely and ek so fayr withal,
 So yong, so lusty, with hire eyen glade,
 That, if that God, that hevene and erthe made,
1040 Wolde han a love, for beaute and goodnesse,
 And womanhod, and trouthe, and semelynesse,
 Whom shulde he loven but this lady swete?
 Ther nys no woman to hym half so mete.
 Fortune, that hath the world in governaunce,
 Hath sodeynly brought in so newe a chaunce
 That nevere was ther yit so fremde a cas.
 For al the companye of Eneas,
 Which that he wende han loren in the se,
 Aryved is nat fer from that cite;
1050 For which the gretteste of his lordes some
 By aventure ben to the cite come,
 Unto that same temple, for to seke
 The queene, and of hire socour to beseke,
 Swich renoun was there sprongen of hire goodnesse.
 And whan they hadden told al here distresse,
 And al here tempest and here harde cas,
 Unto the queen apeered Eneas,
 And openly biknew that it was he.
 Who hadde joye thanne but his meyne,
1060 That hadde founde here lord, here governour?
 The queen saugh that they dide hym swych honour,
 And hadde herd ofte of Eneas er tho,
 And in hire herte she hadde routhe and wo
 That evere swich a noble man as he
 Shal ben disherited in swich degre;
 And saw the man, that he was lyk a knyght,
 And suffisaunt of persone and of myght,
 And lyk to been a verray gentil man;
 And wel his wordes he besette can,
1070 And hadde a noble visage for the nones,
 And formed wel of braunes and of bones.
 For after Venus hadde he swich fayrnesse
 That no man myghte be half so fayr, I gesse;
 And wel a lord he semede for to be.
 And, for he was a straunger, somwhat she
 Likede hym the bet, as, God do bote,
 To som folk ofte newe thyng is sote.
 Anon hire herte hath pite of his wo,
 And with that pite love com in also;
1080 And thus, for pite and for gentillesse,
 Refreshed moste he been of his distresse.
 She seyde, certes, that she sory was
 That he hath had swych peryl and swich cas;
 And, in hire frendly speche, in this manere
 She to hym spak, and seyde as ye may here:
 "Be ye nat Venus sone and Anchises?
 In good feyth, al the worshipe and encres
 That I may goodly don yow, ye shal have.
 Youre shipes and youre meyne shal I save."
1090 And many a gentil word she spak hym to,
 And comaunded hire messageres to go
 The same day, withouten any fayle,
 His shippes for to seke, and hem vitayle.
 Ful many a beste she to the shippes sente,
 And with the wyn she gan hem to presente,
 And to hire royal paleys she hire spedde,
 And Eneas alwey with hire she ledde.
 What nedeth yow the feste to descrive?
 He nevere beter at ese was in his lyve.
1100 Ful was the feste of deyntees and rychesse,
 Of instruments, of song, and of gladnesse,
 Of many an amorous lokyng and devys.
 This Eneas is come to paradys
 Out of the swolow of helle, and thus in joye
 Remembreth hym of his estat in Troye.
 To daunsynge chaumberes ful of paramentes,
 Of riche beddes, and of ornementes,
 This Eneas is led after the mete.
 And with the quene, whan that he hadde sete,
1110 And spices parted, and the wyn agon,
 Unto his chambres was he led anon
 To take his ese and for to have his reste,
 With al his folk, to don what so hem leste.
 There nas courser wel ybrydeled non,
 Ne stede, for the justing wel to gon,
 Ne large palfrey, esy for the nones,
 Ne jewel, fretted ful of ryche stones,
 Ne sakkes ful of gold, of large wyghte,
 Ne ruby non, that shynede by nyghte,
1120 Ne gentil hawtein faucoun heroner,
 Ne hound for hert or wilde bor or der,
 Ne coupe of gold, with floreyns newe ybete,
 That in the land of Libie may be gete,
 That Dido ne hath it Eneas ysent;
 And al is payed, what that he hath spent.
 Thus can this quene honurable hire gestes calle,
 As she that can in fredom passen alle.
 Eneas sothly ek, withouten les,
 Hadde sent unto his ship by Achates
1130 After his sone, and after riche thynges,
 Bothe sceptre, clothes, broches, and ek rynges,
 Some for to were, and some for to presente
 To hire that alle thise noble thynges hym sente;
 And bad his sone how that he shulde make
 The presenting, and to the queen it take.
 Repeyred is this Achates agayn,
 And Eneas ful blysful is and fayn
 To sen his yonge sone Ascanyus.
 But natheles, oure autour telleth us,
1140 That Cupido, that is the god of love,
 At preyere of his moder hye above,
 Hadde the liknesse of the child ytake,
 This noble queen enamored to make
 On Eneas; but, as of that scripture,
 Be as be may, I take of it no cure.
 But soth is this, the queen hath mad swich chere
 Unto this child, that wonder is to here;
 And of the present that his fader sente
 She thanked hym ful ofte, in good entente.
1150 Thus is this queen in plesaunce and in joye,
 With alle these newe lusty folk of Troye.
 And of the dedes hath she more enquered
 Of Eneas, and al the story lered
 Of Troye, and al the longe day they tweye
 Entendeden to speken and to pleye;
 Of which ther gan to breden swich a fyr
 That sely Dido hath now swich desyr
 With Eneas, hire newe gest, to dele,
 That she hath lost hire hewe and ek hire hele.
1160 Now to th' effect, now to the fruyt of al,
 Whi I have told this story, and telle shal.
 Thus I begynne: it fil upon a nyght,
 Whan that the mone up reysed hadde his lyght,
 This noble queene unto hire reste wente.
 She siketh sore, and gan hyreself turmente;
 She waketh, walweth, maketh many a breyd,
 As don these lovers, as I have herd seyd.
 And at the laste, unto hire syster Anne
 She made hire mone, and ryght thus spak she thanne:
1170 "Now, dere sister myn, what may it be
 That me agasteth in my drem?" quod she.
 "This newe Troyan is so in my thought,
 For that me thynketh he is so wel ywrought,
 And ek so likly for to ben a man,
 And therwithal so moche good he can,
 That al my love and lyf lyth in his cure.
 Have ye nat herd him telle his aventure?
 Now certes, Anne, if that ye rede it me,
 I wolde fayn to hym ywedded be;
1180 This is th' effect; what sholde I more seye?
 In hym lyth al, to do me live or deye."
 Hyre syster Anne, as she that coude hire good,
 Seyde as hire thoughte, and somdel it withstod.
 But herof was so long a sermounynge
 It were to long to make rehersynge.
 But finaly, it may nat ben withstonde;
 Love wol love, for nothing wol it wonde.
 The dawenyng up-rist out of the se.
 This amorous queene chargeth hire meyne
1190 The nettes dresse, and speres brode and kene;
 An huntyng wol this lusty freshe queene,
 So priketh hire this newe joly wo.
 To hors is al hir lusty folk ygo;
 Into the court the houndes been ybrought;
 And upon coursers swift as any thought
 Hire yonge knyghtes hoven al aboute,
 And of hire women ek an huge route.
 Upon a thikke palfrey, paper-whit,
 With sadel red, enbrouded with delyt,
1200 Of gold the barres up enbosede hye,
 Sit Dido, al in gold and perre wrye;
 And she as fair as is the bryghte morwe,
 That heleth syke folk of nyghtes sorwe.
 Upon a courser stertlynge as the fyr --
 Men myghte turne hym with a litel wyr --
 Sit Eneas, lik Phebus to devyse,
 So was he fressh arayed in his wyse.
 The fomy brydel with the bit of gold
 Governeth he ryght as hymself hath wold.
1210 And forth this noble queen thus lat I ride
 On huntynge, with this Troyan by hyre side.
 The herde of hertes founden is anon,
 With "Hay! Go bet! Pryke thow! Lat gon, lat gon!
 Why nyl the leoun comen, or the bere,
 That I myghte ones mete hym with this spere?"
 Thus seyn these yonge folk, and up they kylle
 These bestes wilde, and han hem at here wille.
 Among al this to rumbelen gan the hevene;
 The thunder rored with a grisely stevene;
1220 Doun cam the reyn with hayl and slet so faste,
 With hevenes fyr, that it so sore agaste
 This noble queen, and also hire meyne,
 That ech of hem was glad awey to fle.
 And shortly, from the tempest hire to save,
 She fledde hireself into a litel cave,
 And with hire wente this Eneas also.
 I not, with hem if there wente any mo;
 The autour maketh of it no mencioun.
 And here began the depe affeccioun
1230 Betwixe hem two; this was the firste morwe
 Of hire gladnesse, and gynning of hire sorwe.
 For there hath Eneas ykneled so,
 And told hire al his herte and al his wo,
 And swore so depe to hire to be trewe
 For wel or wo and chaunge hire for no newe;
 And as a fals lovere so wel can pleyne,
 That sely Dido rewede on his peyne,
 And tok hym for husbonde and becom his wyf
 For everemo, whil that hem laste lyf.
1240 And after this, whan that the tempest stente,
 With myrthe out as they comen, hom they wente.
 The wikke fame upros, and that anon,
 How Eneas hath with the queen ygon
 Into the cave; and demede as hem liste.
 And whan the kyng that Yarbas highte it wiste,
 As he that hadde hir loved evere his lyf,
 And wowede hyre, to han hire to his wyf,
 Swich sorwe as he hath maked, and swich cheere,
 It is a routhe and pite for to here.
1250 But as in love, alday it happeth so
 That oon shal laughen at anothers wo.
 Now laugheth Eneas and is in joye
 And more richesse than evere he was in Troye.
 O sely wemen, ful of innocence,
 Ful of pite, of trouthe and conscience,
 What maketh yow to men to truste so?
 Have ye swych routhe upon hyre feyned wo,
 And han swich olde ensaumples yow beforn?
 Se ye nat alle how they ben forsworn?
1260 Where sen ye oon that he ne hath laft his leef,
 Or ben unkynde, or don hire som myscheef,
 Or piled hire, or bosted of his dede?
 Ye may as wel it sen as ye may rede.
 Tak hede now of this grete gentil-man,
 This Troyan, that so wel hire plesen can,
 That feyneth hym so trewe and obeysynge,
 So gentil, and so privy of his doinge,
 And can so wel don alle his obeysaunces,
 And wayten hire at festes and at daunces,
1270 And whan she goth to temple and hom ageyn,
 And fasten til he hath his lady seyn,
 And beren in his devyses, for hire sake,
 Not I not what; and songes wolde he make,
 Justen, and don of armes many thynges,
 Sende hire lettres, tokens, broches, rynges --
 Now herkneth how he shal his lady serve!
 There as he was in peril for to sterve
 For hunger, and for myschef in the se,
 And desolat, and fled from his cuntre,
1280 And al his folk with tempest al todryven,
 She hath hire body and ek hire reame yiven
 Into his hand, there as she myghte have been
 Of othere land than of Cartage a queen,
 And lyved in joye ynogh; what wole ye more?
 This Eneas, that hath so depe yswore,
 Is wery of his craft withinne a throwe;
 The hote ernest is al overblowe.
 And pryvyly he doth his shipes dyghte,
 And shapeth hym to stele awey by nyghte.
1290 This Dido hath suspecioun of this,
 And thoughte wel that it was al amys.
 For in hir bed he lyth a-nyght and syketh.
 She axeth hym anon what hym myslyketh --
 "My dere herte, which that I love most?"
 "Certes," quod he, "this nyght my faderes gost
 Hath in my slep so sore me tormented,
 And ek Mercurye his message hath presented,
 That nedes to the conquest of Ytayle
 My destine is sone for to sayle;
1300 For which, me thynketh, brosten is myn herte!"
 Therwith his false teres out they sterte,
 And taketh hire withinne his armes two.
 "Is that in ernest?" quod she; "Wole ye so?
 Have ye nat sworn to wyve me to take?
 Allas, what woman wole ye of me make?
 I am a gentil woman and a queen.
 Ye wole nat from youre wif thus foule fleen?
 That I was born, allas! What shal I do?"
 To telle in short, this noble quen Dydo,
1310 She seketh halwes and doth sacryfise;
 She kneleth, cryeth, that routhe is to devyse;
 Conjureth hym, and profereth hym to be
 His thral, his servant in the leste degre;
 She falleth hym to fote and swouneth ther,
 Dischevele, with hire bryghte gilte her,
 And seyth, "Have mercy; let me with yow ryde!
 These lordes, which that wonen me besyde,
 Wole me distroyen only for youre sake.
 And, so ye wole me now to wive take,
1320 As ye han sworn, thanne wol I yeve yow leve
 To slen me with youre swerd now sone at eve!
 For thanne yit shal I deyen as youre wif.
 I am with childe, and yeve my child his lyf!
 Mercy, lord! Have pite in youre thought!"
 But al this thing avayleth hire ryght nought,
 For on a nyght, slepynge he let hire lye,
 And stal awey unto his companye,
 And as a traytour forth he gan to sayle
 Toward the large contre of Ytayle.
1330 Thus he hath laft Dido in wo and pyne,
 And wedded ther a lady hyghte Lavyne.
 A cloth he lafte, and ek his swerd stondynge,
 Whan he from Dido stal in hire slepynge,
 Ryght at hire beddes hed, so gan he hie,
 Whan that he stal awey to his navye;
 Which cloth, whan sely Dido gan awake,
 She hath it kyst ful ofte for his sake,
 And seyde, "O swete cloth, whil Juppiter it leste,
 Tak now my soule, unbynd me of this unreste!
1340 I have fulfild of fortune al the cours."
 And thus, allas, withouten his socours,
 Twenty tyme yswouned hath she thanne.
 And whanne that she unto hire syster Anne
 Compleyned hadde -- of which I may nat wryte,
 So gret a routhe I have it for t' endite --
 And bad hire norice and hire sister gon
 To fechen fyr and other thyng anon,
 And seyde that she wolde sacryfye --
 And whan she myghte hire tyme wel espie,
1350 Upon the fir of sacryfice she sterte,
 And with his swerd she rof hyre to the herte.
 But, as myn auctour seith, yit thus she seyde;
 Or she was hurt, byforen or she deyde,
 She wrot a lettre anon that thus began:
 "Ryght so," quod she, "as that the white swan
 Ayens his deth begynnyth for to synge,
 Right so to yow make I my compleynynge.
 Not that I trowe to geten yow ageyn,
 For wel I wot that it is al in veyn,
1360 Syn that the goddes been contraire to me.
 But syn my name is lost thourgh yow," quod she,
 "I may wel lese on yow a word or letter,
 Al be it that I shal ben nevere the better;
 For thilke wynd that blew youre ship awey,
 The same wynd hath blowe awey youre fey."
 But who wol al this letter have in mynde,
 Rede Ovyde, and in hym he shal it fynde.
 Thow rote of false lovers, Duc Jasoun,
 Thow sly devourere and confusioun
1370 Of gentil wemen, tendre creatures,
 Thow madest thy recleymyng and thy lures
 To ladyes of thy statly aparaunce,
 And of thy wordes farced with plesaunce,
 And of thy feyned trouthe and thy manere,
 With thyn obesaunce and humble cheere,
 And with thy contrefeted peyne and wo.
 There othere falsen oon, thow falsest two!
 O, often swore thow that thow woldest dye
 For love, whan thow ne feltest maladye
1380 Save foul delyt, which that thow callest love!
 Yif that I live, thy name shal be shove
 In English that thy sekte shal be knowe!
 Have at thee, Jason! Now thyn horn is blowe!
 But certes, it is bothe routhe and wo
 That love with false loveres werketh so;
 For they shal have wel betere love and chere
 Than he that hath abought his love ful dere,
 Or hadde in armes many a blody box.
 For evere as tendre a capoun et the fox,
1390 Thow he be fals and hath the foul betrayed,
 As shal the good-man that therfore hath payed.
 Al have he to the capoun skille and ryght,
 The false fox wol have his part at nyght.
 On Jason this ensaumple is wel ysene
 By Isiphile and Medea the queene.
 In Tessalie, as Guido tellith us,
 There was a kyng that highte Pelleus,
 That hadde a brother which that highte Eson;
 And whan for age he myghte unnethes gon,
1400 He yaf to Pelleus the governyng
 Of al his regne and made hym lord and kyng.
 Of which Eson this Jason geten was,
 That in his tyme in al that land there nas
 Nat swich a famous knyght of gentilesse,
 Of fredom, and of strengthe and lustynesse.
 After his fadres deth he bar hym so
 That there nas non that liste ben his fo,
 But dide hym al honour and companye.
 Of which this Pelleus hadde gret envye,
1410 Imagynynge that Jason myghte be
 Enhaunsed so and put in swich degre
 With love of lordes of his regioun,
 That from his regne he may ben put adoun.
 And in his wit a-nyght compassed he
 How Jason myghte best distroyed be
 Withoute sclaunder of his compassement,
 And at the last he tok avysement
 To senden hym into som fer contre,
 There as this Jason may destroyed be.
1420 This was his wit, al made he to Jasoun
 Gret chere of love and of affeccioun,
 For drede lest his lordes it espide.
 So fyl it, so as fame renneth wide,
 There was swich tydyng overal and swich loos,
 That in an yle that called was Colcos,
 Beyonde Troye, estward in the se,
 That therin was a ram that men mighte se
 That hadde a fles of gold that shon so bryghte
 That nowher was ther swich anothir syghte;
1430 But it was kept alwey with a dragoun,
 And many other merveyles, up and doun,
 And with two boles maked al of bras,
 That spitten fyr, and moche thyng there was.
 But this was ek the tale, natheles,
 That whoso wolde wynne thylke fles,
 He moste bothe, or he it wynne myghte,
 With the boles and the dragoun fyghte.
 And kyng Oetes lord was of that yle.
 This Pelleus bethoughte upon this wile,
1440 That he his neveu Jason wolde enhorte
 To saylen to that lond, hym to disporte,
 And seyde, "Nevew, if it myghte be
 That swich a worshipe myghte fallen the,
 That thow this famous tresor myghtest wynne,
 And bryngen it my regioun withinne,
 It were to me gret plesaunce and honour.
 Thanne were I holde to quyte thy labour;
 And al the cost I wol myselven make.
 And chees what folk that thow wilt with the take;
1450 Lat sen now, darst thow take this viage?"
 Jason was yong, and lusty of corage,
 And undertok to don this ilke empryse.
 Anon Argus his shipes gan devyse;
 With Jason wente the stronge Ercules,
 And many another that he with hym ches.
 But whoso axeth who is with hym gon,
 Lat hym go rede Argonautycon,
 For he wole telle a tale long ynogh.
 Philotetes anon the sayl up drogh,
1460 Whan that the wynd was good, and gan hym hye
 Out of his contre called Thessalye.
 So longe he seyled in the salte se,
 Til in the yle of Lemnon aryvede he --
 Al be this nat rehersed of Guido,
 Yit seyth Ovyde in his Epistels so --
 And of this ile lady was and quene
 The fayre yonge Ysiphele, the shene,
 That whylom Thoas doughter was, the kyng.
 Isiphile was gon in hire pleying,
1470 And, romynge on the clyves by the se,
 Under a banke anon aspied she
 Where that the ship of Jason gan aryve.
 Of hire goodnesse adoun she sendeth blyve
 To witen if that any straunge wight
 With tempest thider were yblowe a-nyght,
 To don him socour, as was hire usaunce
 To fortheren every wight, and don plesaunce
 Of verrey bounte and of curteysye.
 This messangeer adoun hym gan to hye,
1480 And fond Jason and Ercules also,
 That in a cog to londe were ygo,
 Hem to refreshen and to take the eyr.
 The morwenynge attempre was and fayr,
 And in his weye this messanger hem mette.
 Ful cunnyngly these lordes two he grette,
 And dide his message, axinge hem anon
 If they were broken, or ought wo begon,
 Or hadden nede of lodman or vitayle;
 For of socour they sholde nothyng fayle,
1490 For it was outrely the quenes wille.
 Jason answerde mekely and stylle:
 "My lady," quod he, "thanke I hertely
 Of hire goodnesse; us nedeth, trewely,
 Nothyng as now, but that we wery be,
 And come for to pleye out of the se
 Tyl that the wynd be better in oure weye."
 This lady rometh by the clyf to pleye,
 With hire meyne, endelong the stronde,
 And fynt this Jason and this other stonde
1500 In spekynge of this thyng, as I yow tolde.
 This Ercules and Jason gan beholde
 How that the queen it was, and fayre hire grette
 Anon-ryght as they with this lady mette;
 And she tok hed, and knew by hyre manere,
 By hire aray, by wordes, and by chere,
 That it were gentil-men of gret degre,
 And to the castel with hire ledeth she
 These straunge folk and doth hem gret honour,
 And axeth hem of travayle and labour
1510 That they han suffered in the salte se;
 So that, withinne a day, or two, or thre,
 She knew, by folk that in his shipes be,
 That it was Jason, ful of renone,
 And Ercules, that hadde the grete los,
 That soughten the aventures of Colcos;
 And dide hem honour more than before,
 And with hem deled evere lenger the more,
 For they ben worthy folk, withouten les.
 And namely, most she spak with Ercules;
1520 To hym hire herte bar, he shulde be
 Sad, wys, and trewe, of wordes avyse,
 Withouten any other affeccioun
 Of love, or evyl ymagynacyoun.
 This Ercules hath so this Jason preysed
 That to the sonne he hath hym up areysed,
 That half so trewe a man there nas of love
 Under the cope of heven that is above;
 And he was wis, hardy, secre, and ryche.
 Of these thre poyntes there nas non hym liche:
1530 Of fredom passede he, and lustyhede,
 Alle tho that lyven or been dede;
 Therto so gret a gentilman was he,
 And of Thessalye likly kyng to be.
 There nas no lak, but that he was agast
 To love, and for to speke shamefast.
 He hadde lever hymself to morder, and dye,
 Than that men shulde a lovere hym espye.
 "As wolde God that I hadde yive
 My blod and flesh, so that I myghte live,
1540 With the nones that he hadde owher a wif
 For hys estat; for swich a lusty lyf
 She shulde lede with this lusty knyght!"
 And al this was compassed on the nyght
 Bytwixe hym Jason and this Ercules.
 Of these two here was a shrewed lees,
 To come to hous upon an innocent!
 For to bedote this queen was here assent.
 And Jason is as coy as is a mayde;
 He loketh pitously, but nought he sayde,
1550 But frely yaf he to hire conseyleres
 Yiftes grete, and to hire officeres.
 As wolde God I leyser hadde and tyme
 By proces al his wowyng for to ryme!
 But in this hous if any fals lovere be,
 Ryght as hymself now doth, ryght so dide he,
 With feynynge, and with every subtil dede.
 Ye gete namore of me, but ye wole rede
 Th' origynal, that telleth al the cas.
 The somme is this: that Jason wedded was
1560 Unto this queen and tok of hir substaunce
 What so hym leste unto his purveyaunce;
 And upon hire begat he children two,
 And drogh his sayl and saw hir nevere mo.
 A letter sente she to hym, certeyn,
 Which were to longe to wryten and to sen,
 And hym reprevith of his grete untrouthe,
 And preyeth him on hire to have som routhe.
 And of his children two she seyde hym this:
 That they ben lyk of alle thyng, ywis,
1570 To Jason, save they coude nat begile;
 And preyede God, or it were longe while,
 That she that hadde his herte yraft hire fro
 Moste fynden hym untrewe to hir also,
 And that she moste bothe hire chyldren spylle,
 And alle tho that sufferede hym his wille.
 And trewe to Jason was she al hire lyf,
 And evere kepte hire chast, as for his wif;
 Ne nevere hadde she joye at hire herte,
 But deyede for his love, of sorwes smerte.
1580 To Colcos comen is this duc Jasoun,
 That is of love devourer and dragoun.
 As mater apetiteth forme alwey
 And from forme into forme it passen may,
 Or as a welle that were botomles,
 Ryght so can false Jason have no pes.
 For to desyren thourgh his apetit
 To don with gentil women his delyt,
 This is his lust and his felicite.
 Jason is romed forth to the cyte
1590 That whilom cleped was Jaconitos,
 That was the mayster-toun of al Colcos,
 And hath ytold the cause of his comyng
 Unto Oetes, of that contre kyng,
 Preyinge hym that he moste don his assay
 To gete the fles of gold if that he may;
 Of which the kyng assenteth to his bone,
 And doth hym honour, as it was to done,
 So fer forth that his doughter and his eyr,
 Medea, which that was so wis and fayr
1600 That fayrer say there nevere man with ye,
 He made hire don to Jason companye
 At mete, and sitte by hym in the halle.
 Now was Jason a semely man withalle,
 And lyk a lord, and hadde a gret renoun,
 And of his lok as real as a leoun,
 And goodly of his speche, and familer,
 And coude of love al craft and art pleyner
 Withoute bok, with everych observaunce.
 And, as Fortune hire oughte a foul myschaunce,
1610 She wex enamoured upon this man.
 "Jason," quod she, "for ought I se or can,
 As of this thyng the whiche ye ben aboute,
 Ye han youreself yput in moche doute.
 For whoso wol this aventure acheve,
 He may nat wel asterten, as I leve,
 Withouten deth, but I his helpe be.
 But natheles, it is my wylle," quod she,
 "To fortheren yow so that ye shal nat die,
 But turnen sound hom to youre Tessalye."
1620 "My ryghte lady," quod this Jason tho,
 "That ye han of my deth or of my wo
 Any reward, and don me this honour,
 I wot wel that my myght ne my labour
 May nat disserve it in my lyves day.
 God thanke yow there I ne can ne may!
 Youre man I am, and lowely yow beseche
 To ben my helpe, withoute more speche;
 But, certes, for my deth shal I nat spare."
 Tho gan this Medea to hym declare
1630 The peril of this cas from poynt to poynt,
 And of his batayle, and in what disjoynt
 He mote stonde, of which no creature
 Save only she ne myghte his lyf assure.
 And shortly to the poynt ryght for to go,
 They been acorded ful bytwixe hem two
 That Jason shal hire wedde, as trewe knyght;
 And terme set to come sone at nyght
 Unto hire chamber and make there his oth
 Upon the goddes, that he for lef or loth
1640 Ne sholde nevere hire false, nyght ne day,
 To ben hire husbonde whil he lyve may,
 As she that from his deth hym saved here.
 And hereupon at nyght they mette in-feere,
 And doth his oth, and goth with hire to bedde;
 And on the morwe upward he hym spedde,
 For she hath taught hym how he shal nat fayle
 The fles to wynne and stynten his batayle;
 And saved hym his lyf and his honour;
 And gat hym a name ryght as a conquerour,
1650 Ryght thourgh the sleyghte of hire enchauntement.
 Now hath Jason the fles, and hom is went
 With Medea, and tresor ful gret won;
 But unwist of hire fader is she gon
 To Tessaly with Duk Jason hire lef,
 That afterward hath brought hire to myschef.
 For as a traytour he is from hire go,
 And with hire lafte his yonge children two,
 And falsly hath betraysed hire, allas,
 As evere in love a chef traytour he was;
1660 And wedded yit the thridde wif anon,
 That was the doughter of the kyng Creon.
 This is the mede of lovynge and guerdoun
 That Medea receyved of Jasoun
 Ryght for hire trouthe and for hire kyndenesse,
 That lovede hym beter than hireself, I gesse,
 And lafte hire fader and hire herytage.
 And of Jason this is the vassellage,
 That in his dayes nas ther non yfounde
 So fals a lovere goinge on the grounde.
1670 And therfore in hire letter thus she seyde
 Fyrst, whan she of his falsnesse hym upbreyde:
 "Whi lykede me thy yelwe her to se
 More than the boundes of myn honeste?
 Why lykede me thy youthe and thy fayrnesse,
 And of thy tonge, the infynyt graciousnesse?
 O, haddest thow in thy conquest ded ybe,
 Ful mikel untrouthe hadde ther deyd with the!"
 Wel can Ovyde hire letter in vers endyte,
 Which were as now to long for me to wryte.
1680 Now mot I seyn the exilynge of kynges
 Of Rome, for here horible doinges,
 And of the laste kyng Tarquinius,
 As seyth Ovyde and Titus Lyvius.
 But for that cause telle I nat this storye,
 But for to preyse and drawe to memorye
 The verray wif, the verray trewe Lucresse,
 That for hyre wifhod and hire stedefastnesse
 Nat only that these payens hire comende,
 But he that cleped is in oure legende
1690 The grete Austyn hath gret compassioun
 Of this Lucresse, that starf at Rome toun;
 And in what wise, I wol but shortly trete,
 And of this thyng I touche but the grete.
 Whan Ardea beseged was aboute
 With Romeyns, that ful sterne were and stoute,
 Ful longe lay the sege and lytel wroughten,
 So that they were half idel, as hem thoughten;
 And in his pley Tarquinius the yonge
 Gan for to jape, for he was lyght of tonge,
1700 And seyde that it was an ydel lyf;
 No man dide there no more than his wif.
 "And lat us speke of wyves, that is best;
 Preyse every man his owene as hym lest,
 And with oure speche lat us ese oure herte."
 A knyght that highte Colatyn up sterte,
 And seyde thus: "Nay, sire, it is no nede
 To trowen on the word, but on the dede.
 I have a wif," quod he, "that, as I trowe,
 Is holden good of alle that evere hire knowe.
1710 Go we to-nyght to Rome, and we shal se."
 Tarquinius answerde, "That liketh me."
 To Rome be they come, and faste hem dyghte
 To Colatynes hous and doun they lyghte,
 Tarquinius and ek this Colatyn.
 The husbonde knew the estris wel and fyn,
 And prively into the hous they gon,
 Nor at the yate porter nas there non,
 And at the chambre-dore they abyde.
 This noble wif sat by hire beddes side
1720 Dischevele, for no malyce she ne thoughte;
 And softe wolle oure bok seyth that she wroughte
 To kepen hire from slouthe and idelnesse;
 And bad hire servaunts don hire besynesse,
 And axeth hem, "What tydyngs heren ye?
 How seyth men of the sege, how shal it be?
 God wolde the walles were falle adoun!
 Myn husbonde is to longe out of this toun,
 For which the drede doth me so to smerte
 That with a swerd it stingeth to myn herte
1730 Whan I thynke on the sege or on that place.
 God save my lord, I preye hym for his grace!"
 And therwithal ful tenderly she wep,
 And of hire werk she tok no more kep,
 And mekely she let hyre eyen falle;
 And thilke semblaunt sat hire wel withalle.
 And eek hire teres, ful of honeste,
 Embelished hire wifly chastite;
 Hyre contenaunce is to hire herte dygne,
 For they acorde bothe in dede and sygne.
1740 And with that word hire husbonde Colatyn,
 Or she of him was war, com stertynge in
 And seyde, "Drede the nat, for I am here!"
 And she anon up ros with blysful chere
 And kiste hym, as of wives is the wone.
 Tarquinius, this proude kynges sone,
 Conceyved hath hire beaute and hyre cheere,
 Hire yelwe her, hire shap, and hire manere,
 Hire hew, hire wordes, that she hath compleyned
 (And by no craft hire beaute nas nat feyned),
1750 And caughte to this lady swich desyr
 That in his herte brende as any fyr,
 So wodly that his wit was al forgeten.
 For wel thoghte he she wolde nat ben geten;
 And ay the more that he was in dispayr,
 The more he coveyteth and thoughte hire fayr.
 His blynde lust was al his coveytynge.
 A-morwe, whan the brid began to synge,
 Unto the sege he cometh ful privily,
 And by hymself he walketh soberly,
1760 Th' ymage of hire recordynge alwey newe:
 "Thus lay hire her, and thus fresh was hyre hewe;
 Thus sat, thus spak, thus span; this was hire chere;
 Thus fayr she was, and this was hire manere."
 Al this conseit hys herte hath newe ytake.
 And as the se, with tempest al toshake,
 That after, whan the storm is al ago,
 Yit wol the water quappe a day or two,
 Ryght so, thogh that hire forme were absent,
 The plesaunce of hire forme was present;
1770 But natheles, nat plesaunce but delit,
 Or an unrightful talent, with dispit --
 "For, maugre hyre, she shal my leman be!
 Hap helpeth hardy man alday," quod he;
 "What ende that I make, it shal be so."
 And girte hym with his swerd and gan to go,
 And forth he rit til he to Rome is come,
 And al alone his wey than hath he nome
 Unto the hous of Colatyn ful ryght.
 Doun was the sonne and day hath lost his lyght;
1780 And in he cometh into a prive halke,
 And in the nyght ful thefly gan he stalke,
 Whan every wight was to his reste brought,
 Ne no wight hadde of tresoun swich a thought.
 Were it by wyndow or by other gyn,
 With swerd ydrawe shortly he com in
 There as she lay, this noble wif Lucresse.
 And as she wok, hire bed she felte presse.
 "What beste is that," quod she, "that weyeth thus?"
 "I am the kynges sone, Tarquinius,"
1790 Quod he, "but, and thow crye or noyse make,
 Or if there any creature awake,
 By thilke God that formed man alyve,
 This swerd thourghout thyn herte shal I ryve."
 And therwithal unto hire throte he sterte,
 And sette the poynt al sharp upon hire herte.
 No word she spak, she hath no myght therto.
 What shal she seyn? Hire wit is al ago.
 Ryght as a wolf that fynt a lomb alone,
 To whom shal she compleyne or make mone?
1800 What, shal she fyghte with an hardy knyght?
 Wel wot men that a woman hath no myght.
 What, shal she crye, or how shal she asterte
 That hath hire by the throte with swerd at herte?
 She axeth grace, and seyth al that she can.
 "Ne wilt thow nat," quod he, this crewel man,
 "As wisly Jupiter my soule save,
 As I shal in the stable slen thy knave,
 And ley hym in thy bed, and loude crye
 That I the fynde in swich avouterye.
1810 And thus thow shalt be ded and also lese
 Thy name, for thow shalt non other chese."
 These Romeyns wyves lovede so here name
 At thilke tyme, and dredde so the shame,
 That, what for fer of sclaunder and drede of deth,
 She loste bothe at ones wit and breth,
 And in a swogh she lay, and wex so ded
 Men myghte smyten of hire arm or hed;
 She feleth no thyng, neyther foul ne fayr.
 Tarquinius, that art a kynges eyr,
1820 And sholdest, as by lynage and by ryght,
 Don as a lord and as a verray knyght,
 Whi hastow don dispit to chivalrye?
 Whi hastow don this lady vilanye?
 Allas, of the this was a vileyns dede!
 But now to purpos; in the story I rede,
 Whan he was gon and this myschaunce is falle,
 This lady sente after hire frendes alle,
 Fader, moder, husbonde, alle yfeere;
 And al dischevele, with hire heres cleere,
1830 In habit swich as women used tho
 Unto the buryinge of hire frendes go,
 She sit in halle with a sorweful sighte.
 Hyre frendes axen what hire eylen myghte,
 And who was ded; and she sit ay wepynge;
 A word, for shame, forth ne myght she brynge,
 Ne upon hem she durste nat beholde.
 But atte last of Tarquyny she hem tolde
 This rewful cas and al thys thing horryble.
 The woo to tellen were an impossible,
1840 That she and al hir frendes made attones.
 Al hadde folkes hertes ben of stones,
 Hyt myght have maked hem upon hir rewe,
 Hir herte was so wyfly and so trewe.
 She sayde that, for hir gylt ne for hir blame,
 Hir husbonde shulde nat have the foule name,
 That wolde she nat suffre by no wey.
 And they answerden alle, upon hir fey,
 That they forgave yt hyr, for yt was ryght;
 It was no gilt, it lay not in hir myght;
1850 And seyden hir ensamples many oon.
 But al for noght; for thus she seyde anoon:
 "Be as be may," quod she, "of forgyvyng,
 I wol not have noo forgyft for nothing."
 But pryvely she kaughte forth a knyf,
 And therwithal she rafte hirself hir lyf;
 And as she fel adoun, she kaste hir lok,
 And of hir clothes yet she hede tok.
 For in hir fallynge yet she had a care,
 Lest that hir fet or suche thyng lay bare;
1860 So wel she loved clennesse and eke trouthe.
 Of hir had al the toun of Rome routhe,
 And Brutus by hir chaste blood hath swore
 That Tarquyn shulde ybanysshed be therfore,
 And al hys kyn; and let the peple calle,
 And openly the tale he tolde hem alle,
 And openly let cary her on a bere
 Thurgh al the toun, that men may see and here
 The horryble dede of hir oppressyoun,
 Ne never was ther kyng in Rome toun
1870 Syn thilke day; and she was holden there
 A seynt, and ever hir day yhalwed dere
 As in hir lawe; and thus endeth Lucresse,
 The noble wyf, as Tytus bereth witnesse.
 I telle hyt for she was of love so trewe,
 Ne in hir wille she chaunged for no newe;
 And for the stable herte, sadde and kynde,
 That in these wymmen men may alday fynde.
 Ther as they kaste hir herte, there it dwelleth.
 For wel I wot that Crist himselve telleth
1880 That in Israel, as wyd as is the lond,
 That so gret feyth in al that he ne fond
 As in a woman; and this is no lye.
 And as of men, loke ye which tirannye
 They doon alday; assay hem whoso lyste,
 The trewest ys ful brotel for to triste.
 Juge infernal, Mynos, of Crete kyng,
 Now cometh thy lot, now comestow on the ryng.
 Nat for thy sake oonly write I this storye,
 But for to clepe ageyn unto memorye
1890 Of Theseus the grete untrouthe of love;
 For which the goddes of the heven above
 Ben wrothe, and wreche han take for thy synne.
 Be red for shame! Now I thy lyf begynne.
 Mynos, that was the myghty kyng of Crete,
 That hadde an hundred citees stronge and grete,
 To scole hath sent hys sone Androgeus,
 To Athenes; of the which hyt happed thus,
 That he was slayn, lernynge philosophie,
 Ryght in that citee, nat but for envye.
1900 The grete Mynos, of the which I speke,
 Hys sones deth ys come for to wreke.
 Alcathoe he besegeth harde and longe;
 But natheles, the walles be so stronge,
 And Nysus, that was kyng of that citee,
 So chevalrous, that lytel dredeth he;
 Of Mynos or hys ost tok he no cure,
 Til on a day befel an aventure,
 That Nysus doughter stod upon the wal,
 And of the sege saw the maner al.
1910 So happed it that at a scarmishyng
 She caste hire herte upon Mynos the kyng,
 For his beaute and for his chyvalrye,
 So sore that she wende for to dye.
 And, shortly of this proces for to pace,
 She made Mynos wynnen thilke place,
 So that the cite was al at his wille,
 To saven whom hym leste or elles spille.
 But wikkedly he quitte hire kyndenesse,
 And let hire drenche in sorwe and distresse,
1920 Nere that the goddes hadde of hire pite;
 But that tale were to long as now for me.
 Athenes wan thys kyng Mynos also,
 As Alcathoe, and other tounes mo.
 And this th' effect, that Mynos hath so driven
 Hem of Athenes that they mote hym yiven
 From yer to yer hire owene children dere
 For to be slayne right as ye shal here.
 This Mynos hadde a monstre, a wiked best,
 That was so crewel that, withoute arest,
1930 Whan that a man was brought in his presence,
 He wolde hym ete; ther helpeth no defence.
 And every thridde yeer, withouten doute,
 They caste lot, and as it com aboute
 On riche, on pore, he moste his sone take,
 And of his child he moste present make
 Unto Minos, to save hym or to spylle,
 Or lete his best devoure hym at his wille.
 And this hath Mynos don, ryght in dispit;
 To wreke his sone was set al his delyt,
1940 And maken hem of Athenes his thral
 From yer to yer, whil that he liven shal;
 And hom he sayleth whan this toun is wonne.
 This wiked custom is so longe yronne,
 Til that of Athenes kyng Egeus
 Mot senden his owene sone, Theseus,
 Sith that the lot is fallen hym upon,
 To ben devoured, for grace is there non.
 And forth is lad this woful yonge knyght
 Unto the court of kyng Mynos ful ryght,
1950 And into a prysoun, fetered, cast is he
 Tyl thilke tyme he sholde freten be.
 Wel maystow wepe, O woful Theseus,
 That art a kynges sone, and dampned thus.
 Me thynketh this, that thow were depe yholde
 To whom that savede thee from cares colde!
 And if now any woman helpe the,
 Wel oughtestow hire servaunt for to be,
 And ben hire trewe lovere yer be yere!
 But now to come ageyn to my matere.
1960 The tour there as this Theseus is throwe
 Doun in the botom derk and wonder lowe,
 Was joynynge in the wal to a foreyne;
 And it was longynge to the doughtren tweyne
 Of Mynos, that in hire chaumbers grete
 Dwellten above, toward the mayster-strete
 Of Athenes, in joye and in solas.
 Noot I not how, it happede par cas,
 As Theseus compleynede hym by nyghte,
 The kynges doughter, Adryane that highte,
1970 And ek hire syster Phedra, herden al
 His compleynynge as they stode on the wal
 And lokeden upon the bryghte mone.
 Hem leste nat to go to bedde so sone;
 And of his wo they hadde compassioun.
 A kynges sone to ben in swich prysoun,
 And ben devoured, thoughte hem gret pite.
 This Adryane spak to hire syster fre,
 And seyde, "Phedra, leve syster dere,
 This woful lordes sone may ye nat here,
1980 How pitously compleyneth he his kyn,
 And ek his povre estat that he is in,
 And gilteles? Now, certes, it is routhe!
 And if ye wol assenten, by my trouthe,
 He shal ben holpen, how so that we do."
 Phedra answerde, "Ywis, me is as wo
 For hym as evere I was for any man;
 And, to his help, the beste red I can
 Is that we do the gayler prively
 To come and speke with us hastily,
1990 And don this woful man with hym to come.
 For if he may this monstre overcome,
 Thanne were he quyt; ther is non other bote.
 Lat us wel taste hym at his herte-rote,
 That if so be that he a wepen have,
 Wher that he dar, his lyf to kepe and save,
 Fyghten with the fend, and hym defende.
 For in the prysoun ther he shal descende,
 Ye wote wel that the beste is in a place
 That nys nat derk, and hath roum eek and space
2000 To welde an ax, or swerd, or staf, or knyf;
 So that, me thynketh, he shulde save his lyf.
 If that he be a man, he shal do so.
 And we shul make hym balles ek also
 Of wex and tow, that whan he gapeth faste,
 Into the bestes throte he shal hem caste
 To slake his hunger and encombre his teth;
 And right anon, whan that Theseus seth
 The beste achoked, he shal on hym lepe
 To slen hym or they comen more to-hepe.
2010 This wepen shal the gayler, or that tyde,
 Ful prively withinne the prysoun hyde;
 And for the hous is krynkeled to and fro,
 And hath so queynte weyes for to go --
 For it is shapen as the mase is wrought --
 Therto have I a remedye in my thought,
 That, by a clewe of twyn, as he hath gon,
 The same weye he may returne anon,
 Folwynge alwey the thred as he hath come.
 And whan that he this beste hath overcome,
2020 Thanne may he flen awey out of this drede,
 And ek the gayler may he with hym lede,
 And hym avaunce at hom in his cuntre,
 Syn that so gret a lordes sone is he.
 This is my red, if that he dar it take."
 What sholde I lenger sarmoun of it make?
 This gayler cometh, and with hym Theseus.
 Whan these thynges ben acorded thus,
 Adoun sit Theseus upon his kne --
 "The ryghte lady of my lyf," quod he,
2030 "I, sorweful man, ydampned to the deth,
 Fro yow, whil that me lasteth lyf or breth,
 I wol nat twynne, after this aventure,
 But in youre servise thus I wol endure,
 That, as a wreche unknowe, I wol yow serve
 For everemo, til that myn herte sterve.
 Forsake I wol at hom myn herytage,
 And, as I seyde, ben of youre court a page,
 If that ye vouche-sauf that in this place
 Ye graunte me to han so gret a grace
2040 That I may han nat but my mete and drynke.
 And for my sustenaunce yit wol I swynke,
 Ryght as yow leste, that Mynos ne no wight --
 Syn that he saw me nevere with eyen syght --
 Ne no man elles, shal me conne espye;
 So slyly and so wel I shal me gye,
 And me so wel disfigure and so lowe,
 That in this world ther shal no man me knowe,
 To han my lyf, and for to han presence
 Of yow, that don to me this excellence.
2050 And to my fader shal I sende here
 This worthy man that is now youre gaylere,
 And hym so gwerdone that he shal wel be
 Oon of the gretteste men of my cuntre.
 And if I durste seyn, my lady bryght,
 I am a kynges sone and ek a knyght.
 As wolde God, if that it myghte be
 Ye weren in my cuntre, alle thre,
 And I with yow to bere yow compaignye,
 Thanne shulde ye se if that I therof lye.
2060 And if I profre yow in low manere
 To ben youre page and serven yow ryght here,
 But I yow serve as lowly in that place,
 I preye to Mars to yeve me swich a grace
 That shames deth on me ther mote falle,
 And deth and poverte to my frendes alle;
 And that my spirit by nyghte mote go,
 After my deth, and walke to and fro,
 That I mote of traytour have a name,
 For which my spirit go, to do me shame!
2070 And if I evere cleyme other degre,
 But if ye vouche-sauf to yeve it me,
 As I have seyd, of shames deth I deye!
 And mercy, lady! I can nat elles seye."
 A semely knyght was Theseus to se,
 And yong, but of a twenty yer and thre.
 But whoso hadde seyn his contenaunce,
 He wolde have wept for routhe of his penaunce;
 For which this Adryane in this manere
 Answerde hym to his profre and to his chere:
2080 "A kynges sone, and ek a knyght," quod she,
 "To ben my servaunt in so low degre,
 God shilde it, for the shame of wemen alle,
 And lene me nevere swich a cas befalle!
 But sende yow grace of herte and sleyghte also,
 Yow to defende and knyghtly slen youre fo,
 And leve hereafter that I may yow fynde
 To me and to my syster here so kynde,
 That I repente nat to yeve yow lyf!
 Yit were it betere that I were youre wyf,
2090 Syn that ye ben as gentil born as I,
 And have a reaume, nat but faste by,
 Than that I suffered, gilteles, yow sterve,
 Or that I let yow as a page serve.
 It nys no profre as unto youre kynrede;
 But what is that that man nyl don for drede?
 And to my syster, syn that it is so
 That she mot gon with me, if that I go,
 Or elles suffre deth as wel as I,
 That ye unto youre sone as trewely
2100 Don hire ben wedded at youre hom-comyng.
 This is the final ende of al this thyng;
 Ye swere it here, upon al that may be sworn."
 "Ye, lady myn," quod he, "or ellis torn
 Mote I be with the Mynotaur to-morwe!
 And haveth hereof myn herte blod to borwe,
 If that ye wole; if I hadde knyf or spere,
 I wolde it laten out, and theron swere,
 For thanne at erst I wot ye wole me leve.
 By Mars, that is the chef of my beleve,
2110 So that I myghte liven and nat fayle
 To-morwe for t' acheve my batayle,
 I wolde nevere from this place fle,
 Til that ye shulde the verray preve se.
 For now, if that the sothe I shal yow say,
 I have yloved yow ful many a day,
 Thogh ye ne wiste it nat, in my cuntre,
 And aldermost desired yow to se
 Of any erthly livynge creature.
 Upon my trouthe I swere and yow assure,
2120 This sevene yer I have youre servaunt be.
 Now have I yow, and also have ye me,
 My dere herte, of Athenes duchesse!"
 This lady smyleth at his stedefastnesse,
 And at his hertely wordes and his chere,
 And to hyre sister seyde in this manere,
 Al softely: "Now, syster myn," quod she,
 "Now be we duchesses, bothe I and ye,
 And sekered to the regals of Athenes,
 And bothe hereafter likly to ben quenes;
2130 And saved from his deth a kynges sone,
 As evere of gentil women is the wone
 To save a gentyl man, emforth hire myght,
 In honest cause, and namely in his ryght.
 Me thynketh no wight oughte us herof blame,
 Ne beren us therfore an evil name."
 And shortly of this mater for to make,
 This Theseus of hire hath leve take,
 And every poynt was performed in dede
 As ye han in this covenaunt herd me rede.
2140 His wepne, his clewe, his thyng, that I have sayd,
 Was by the gayler in the hous yleyd,
 Ther as the Mynotaur hath his dwellynge,
 Ryght faste by the dore, at his entrynge.
 And Theseus is lad unto his deth,
 And forth unto this Mynotaur he geth,
 And by the techynge of this Adryane
 He overcom this beste and was his bane;
 And out he cometh by the clewe agayn
 Ful prively, whan he this beste hath slayn;
2150 And by the gayler geten hath a barge,
 And of his wyves tresor gan it charge,
 And tok his wif, and ek hire sister fre,
 And ek the gayler, and with hem alle thre
 Is stole awey out of the lond by nyghte,
 And to the contre of Ennopye hym dyghte
 There as he hadde a frend of his knowynge.
 There feste they, there daunce they and synge;
 And in his armes hath this Adryane,
 That of the beste hath kept hym from his bane;
2160 And gat hym there a newe barge anon,
 And of his contre-folk a ful gret won,
 And taketh his leve, and homward sayleth he.
 And in an yle amyd the wilde se,
 Ther as there dwelled creature non
 Save wilde bestes, and that ful many oon,
 He made his ship a-londe for to sette;
 And in that yle half a day he lette,
 And seyde that on the lond he moste hym reste.
 His maryners han don ryght as hym leste;
2170 And, for to tellen shortly in this cas,
 Whan Adryane his wif aslepe was,
 For that hire syster fayrer was than she,
 He taketh hire in his hond and forth goth he
 To shipe, and as a traytour stal his wey,
 Whil that this Adryane aslepe lay,
 And to his contre-ward he sayleth blyve --
 A twenty devel-wey the wynd hym dryve! --
 And fond his fader drenched in the se.
 Me lest no more to speke of hym, parde.
2180 These false lovers, poysoun be here bane!
 But I wol turne ageyn to Adryane,
 That is with slep for werynesse atake.
 Ful sorwefully hire herte may awake.
 Allas, for thee myn herte hath now pite!
 Ryght in the dawenyng awaketh she,
 And gropeth in the bed, and fond ryght nought.
 "Allas," quod she, "that evere I was wrought!
 I am betrayed!" and hire her torente,
 And to the stronde barefot faste she wente,
2190 And cryed, "Theseus, myn herte swete!
 Where be ye, that I may nat with yow mete,
 And myghte thus with bestes ben yslayn?"
 The holwe rokkes answerde hire agayn.
 No man she saw, and yit shyned the mone,
 And hye upon a rokke she wente sone,
 And saw his barge saylynge in the se.
 Cold wex hire herte, and ryght thus seyde she:
 "Meker than ye fynde I the bestes wilde!"
 Hadde he nat synne that hire thus begylde?
2200 She cryed, "O turn ageyn, for routhe and synne!
 Thy barge hath nat al his meyne inne!"
 Hire coverchef on a pole up steked she,
 Ascaunce that he shulde it wel yse,
 And hym remembre that she was behynde,
 And turne ageyn, and on the stronde hire fynde.
 But al for nought; his wey he is ygon.
 Adoun she fyl aswoune upon a ston;
 And up she rist, and kyssed, in al hire care,
 The steppes of his fet ther he hath fare,
2210 And to hire bed ryght thus she speketh tho:
 "Thow bed," quod she, "that hast receyved two,
 Thow shalt answere of two, and nat of oon!
 Where is thy gretter part awey ygon?
 Allas! Where shal I, wreche wight, become?
 For thogh so be that ship or boot here come,
 Hom to my contre dar I nat for drede.
 I can myselven in this cas nat rede."
 What shulde I more telle hire compleynyng?
 It is so long, it were an hevy thyng.
2220 In hire Epistel Naso telleth al;
 But shortly to the ende I telle shal.
 The goddes han hire holpen for pite,
 And in the signe of Taurus men may se
 The stones of hire corone shyne clere.
 I wol no more speke of this mateere;
 But thus this false lovere can begyle
 His trewe love, the devel quyte hym his while!
 Thow yevere of the formes, that hast wrought
 This fayre world and bar it in thy thought
2230 Eternaly er thow thy werk began,
 Why madest thow, unto the slaunder of man,
 Or, al be that it was nat thy doing,
 As for that fyn, to make swich a thyng,
 Whi sufferest thow that Tereus was bore,
 That is in love so fals and so forswore,
 That fro this world up to the firste hevene
 Corrumpeth whan that folk his name nevene?
 And, as to me, so grisely was his dede
 That, whan that I his foule storye rede,
2240 Myne eyen wexe foule and sore also.
 Yit last the venym of so longe ago,
 That it enfecteth hym that wol beholde
 The storye of Tereus, of which I tolde.
 Of Trace was he lord, and kyn to Marte,
 The crewel god that stant with blody darte;
 And wedded hadde he, with a blysful cheere,
 Kyng Pandiones fayre doughter dere,
 That highte Progne, flour of hire cuntre,
 Thogh Juno lyst nat at the feste to be,
2250 Ne Imeneus that god of wedyng is.
 But at the feste redy ben, ywis,
 The Furies thre with al here mortal brond.
 The oule al nyght aboute the balkes wond,
 That prophete is of wo and of myschaunce.
 This revel, ful of song and ek of daunce,
 Laste a fortenyght, or lytel lasse.
 But shortly of this story for to passe,
 For I am wery of hym for to telle,
 Fyve yer his wif and he togeder dwelle,
2260 Til on a day she gan so sore longe
 To sen hire sister that she say nat longe,
 That for desyr she nyste what to seye.
 But to hire husbonde gan she for to preye,
 For Godes love, that she moste ones gon
 Hyre syster for to sen, and come anon,
 Or elles, but she moste to hire wende,
 She preyde hym that he wolde after hire sende;
 And this was day by day al hire preyere,
 With al humblesse of wifhod, word and chere.
2270 This Tereus let make his shipes yare,
 And into Grece hymself is forth yfare.
 Unto his fadyr-in-lawe gan he preye
 To vouche-sauf that for a month or tweye
 That Philomene, his wyves syster, myghte
 On Progne his wyf but ones han a syghte --
 "And she shal come to yow ageyn anon.
 Myself with hyre wol bothe come and gon,
 And as myn hertes lyf I wol hire kepe."
 This olde Pandion, this kyng, gan wepe
2280 For tendernesse of herte for to leve
 His doughter gon, and for to yeve hire leve;
 Of al this world he loveth nothyng so;
 But at the laste leve hath she to go.
 For Philomene with salte teres eke
 Gan of hire fader grace to beseke
 To sen hire syster that she loveth so,
 And hym embraseth with hire armes two.
 And therwithal so yong and fayr was she
 That, whan that Tereus saw hire beaute,
2290 And of aray that there was non hire lyche,
 And yit of beaute was she two so ryche,
 He caste his fyry herte upon hyre so
 That he wol have hir, how so that it go;
 And with his wiles kneled and so preyde,
 Tyl at the laste Pandyon thus seyde:
 "Now, sone," quod he, "that art to me so dere,
 I the betake my yonge doughter here
 That bereth the keye of al myn hertes lyf.
 And gret me wel my doughter and thy wif,
2300 And yif hire leve somtyme for to pleye,
 That she may sen me ones er I deye."
 And sothly, he hath mad hym riche feste,
 And to his folk, the moste and ek the leste,
 That with hym com; and yaf hym yiftes grete,
 And hym conveyeth thourgh the mayster-strete
 Of Athenes, and to the se hym broughte,
 And turneth hom; no malyce he ne thoughte.
 The ores pullen forth the vessel faste,
 And into Trace aryveth at the laste,
2310 And up into a forest he hire ledde,
 And to a cave pryvely hym spedde;
 And in this derke cave, yif hir leste,
 Or leste nat, he bad hire for to reste;
 Of which hire herte agros, and seyde thus:
 "Where is my sister, brother Tereus?"
 And therwithal she wepte tenderly
 And quok for fere, pale and pitously,
 Ryght as the lamb that of the wolf is biten;
 Or as the culver that of the egle is smiten,
2320 And is out of his clawes forth escaped,
 Yit it is afered and awhaped,
 Lest it be hent eft-sones; so sat she.
 But utterly it may non other be.
 By force hath this traytour don a dede,
 That he hath reft hire of hire maydenhede,
 Maugre hire hed, by strengthe and by his myght.
 Lo! here a dede of men, and that a ryght!
 She cryeth "Syster!" with ful loud a stevene,
 And "Fader dere!" and "Help me, God in hevene!"
2330 Al helpeth nat; and yit this false thef
 Hath don this lady yit a more myschef,
 For fere lest she shulde his shame crye
 And don hym openly a vilenye,
 And with his swerd hire tonge of kerveth he,
 And in a castel made hire for to be
 Ful pryvely in prisoun everemore,
 And kepte hire to his usage and his store,
 So that she myghte hym neveremore asterte.
 O sely Philomene, wo is thyn herte!
2340 God wreke thee, and sende the thy bone!
 Now is it tyme I make an ende sone.
 This Tereus is to his wif ycome,
 And in his armes hath his wif ynome,
 And pitously he wep and shok his hed,
 And swor hir that he fond hir sister ded;
 For which this sely Progne hath swich wo
 That nygh hire sorweful herte brak a-two.
 And thus in terys lete I Progne dwelle,
 And of hire sister forth I wol yow telle.
2350 This woful lady lerned hadde in youthe
 So that she werken and enbroude couthe,
 And weven in hire stol the radevore
 As it of wemen hath be woned yore.
 And, sothly for to seyne, she hadde hire fille
 Of mete and drynk, and clothyng at hire wille.
 She coude eek rede and wel ynow endyte,
 But with a penne coude she nat wryte.
 But letters can she weve to and fro,
 So that, by that the yer was al ago,
2360 She hadde ywoven in a stamyn large
 How she was brought from Athenes in a barge,
 And in a cave how that she was brought;
 And al the thyng that Tereus hath wrought,
 She waf it wel, and wrot the storye above,
 How she was served for hire systers love.
 And to a knave a ryng she yaf anon,
 And preyed hym by signes for to gon
 Unto the queen, and beren hir that cloth,
 And by signes swor hym many an oth
2370 She wolde hym yeven what she geten myghte.
 This knave anon unto the quene hym dyghte,
 And tok it hire, and al the maner tolde.
 And whan that Progne hath this thing beholde,
 No word she spak, for sorwe and ek for rage,
 But feynede hire to gon on pilgrymage
 To Bacus temple; and in a litel stounde
 Hire dombe sister sittynge hath she founde,
 Wepynge in the castel, here alone.
 Allas! The wo, the compleynt, and the mone
2380 That Progne upon hire doumbe syster maketh.
 In armes everych of hem other taketh,
 And thus I late hem in here sorwe dwelle.
 The remenaunt is no charge for to telle,
 For this is al and som: thus was she served,
 That nevere harm agilte ne deserved
 Unto this crewel man, that she of wiste.
 Ye may be war of men, if that yow liste.
 For al be it that he wol nat, for shame,
 Don as Tereus, to lese his name,
2390 Ne serve yow as a morderour or a knave,
 Ful lytel while shal ye trewe hym have --
 That wol I seyn, al were he now my brother --
 But it so be that he may have non other.
 By preve as wel as by autorite,
 That wiked fruit cometh of a wiked tre,
 That may ye fynde, if that it like yow.
 But for this ende I speke this as now,
 To tellen yow of false Demophon.
 In love a falser herde I nevere non,
2400 But if it were his fader Theseus.
 "God, for his grace, fro swich oon kepe us!"
 Thus may these women preyen that it here.
 Now to the effect turne I of my matere.
 Destroyed is of Troye the cite;
 This Demophon com seylynge in the se
 Toward Athenes, to his paleys large.
 With hym com many a ship and many a barge
 Ful of his folk, of whiche ful many oon
 Is wounded sore, and sek, and wo begon,
2410 As they han at th' asege longe yleyn.
 Byhynde hym com a wynd and ek a reyn
 That shof so sore his sayl ne myghte stonde;
 Hym were levere than al the world a-londe,
 So hunteth hym the tempest to and fro.
 So derk it was, he coude nowher go;
 And with a wawe brosten was his stere.
 His ship was rent so lowe, in swich manere,
 That carpenter ne coude it nat amende.
 The se, by nyghte, as any torche it brende
2420 For wod, and possith hym now up, now doun,
 Til Neptune hath of hym compassioun,
 And Thetis, Thorus, Triton, and they alle,
 And maden hym upon a lond to falle,
 Wherof that Phillis lady was and queene,
 Ligurges doughter, fayrer on to sene
 Than is the flour ageyn the bryghte sonne.
 Unnethe is Demophon to londe ywonne,
 Wayk, and ek wery, and his folk forpyned
 Of werynesse, and also enfamyned,
2430 That to the deth he almost was ydriven.
 His wise folk to conseyl han hym yiven
 To seken help and socour of the queen,
 And loke what his grace myghte been,
 And maken in that lond som chevysaunce,
 To kepen hym fro wo and fro myschaunce.
 For syk he was, and almost at the deth;
 Unnethe myghte he speke or drawe his breth,
 And lyth in Rodopeya hym for to reste.
 Whan he may walke, hym thoughte it was the beste
2440 Unto the court to seken for socour.
 Men knewen hym wel and diden hym honour;
 For of Athenes duk and lord was he,
 As Theseus his fader hadde be,
 That in his tyme was of gret renoun,
 No man so gret in al the regyoun,
 And lyk his fader of face and of stature,
 And fals of love; it com hym of nature.
 As doth the fox Renard, the foxes sone,
 Of kynde he coude his olde faders wone
2450 Withoute lore, as can a drake swimme
 Whan it is caught and caryed to the brymme.
 This honurable Phillis doth hym chere;
 Hire liketh wel his port and his manere.
 But, for I am agroted herebyforn
 To wryte of hem that ben in love forsworn,
 And ek to haste me in my legende,
 (Which to performe God me grace sende)
 Therfore I passe shortly in this wyse.
 Ye han wel herd of Theseus devyse
2460 In the betraysynge of fayre Adryane
 That of hire pite kepte him from his bane.
 At shorte wordes, ryght so Demophon
 The same wey, the same path hath gon,
 That dide his false fader Theseus.
 For unto Phillis hath he sworen thus,
 To wedden hire, and hire his trouthe plyghte,
 And piked of hire al the good he myghte,
 Whan he was hol and sound, and hadde his reste;
 And doth with Phillis what so that hym leste,
2470 As wel coude I, if that me leste so,
 Tellen al his doynge to and fro.
 He seyde unto his contre moste he sayle,
 For there he wolde hire weddynge aparayle,
 As fel to hire honour and his also.
 And openly he tok his leve tho,
 And hath hire sworn he wolde nat sojorne,
 But in a month he wolde ageyn retorne;
 And in that lond let make his ordenaunce
 As verray lord, and tok the obeysaunce
2480 Wel and homly, and let his shipes dighte,
 And hom he goth the nexte wey he myghte.
 For unto Phillis yit ne com he nought,
 And that hath she so harde and sore abought --
 Allas! -- that, as the storyes us recorde,
 She was hire owene deth ryght with a corde,
 Whan that she saw that Demophon hire trayed.
 But to hym first she wrot, and faste him prayed
 He wolde come and hire delyvere of peyne,
 As I reherce shal a word or tweyne.
2490 Me lyste nat vouche-sauf on hym to swynke,
 Ne spende on hym a penne ful of ynke,
 For fals in love was he, ryght as his syre.
 The devil sette here soules bothe afyre!
 But of the letter of Phillis wol I wryte
 A word or two, althogh it be but lyte.
 "Thyn hostesse," quod she, "O Demophon,
 Thy Phillis, which that is so wo begon,
 Of Rodopeye, upon yow mot compleyne
 Over the terme set bytwixe us tweyne,
2500 That ye ne holde forward, as ye seyde.
 Youre anker, which ye in oure haven leyde,
 Hyghte us that ye wolde comen, out of doute,
 Or that the mone wente ones aboute.
 But tymes foure the mone hath hid hire face,
 Syn thilke day ye wente from this place,
 And foure tymes lyghte the world ageyn.
 But for al that, yif I shal soothly seyn,
 Yit hath the strem of Sytho nat ybrought
 From Athenes the ship; yit cometh it noght.
2510 And if that ye the terme rekene wolde
 As I or as a trewe lovere shulde,
 I pleyne nat, God wot, byforn my day."
 But al hire letter wryten I ne may
 By order, for it were to me a charge;
 Hire letter was ryght long and therto large.
 But here and ther in rym I have it layd,
 There as me thoughte that she wel hath sayd.
 She seyde, "Thy sayles come nat agen,
 Ne to thy word there is no fey certeyn;
2520 But I wot why ye come nat," quod she,
 "For I was of my love to yow to fre.
 And of the goddes that ye han forswore,
 Yif hire vengeaunce falle on yow therfore,
 Ye be nat suffisaunt to bere the peyne.
 To moche trusted I, wel may I pleyne,
 Upon youre lynage and youre fayre tonge,
 And on youre teres falsly out yronge.
 How coude ye wepe so by craft?" quod she.
 "May there swiche teres feyned be?
2530 Now certes, yif ye wol have in memorye,
 It oughte be to yow but lyte glorye
 To han a sely mayde thus betrayed!
 To God," quod she, "preye I, and ofte have prayed,
 That it mot be the grettest prys of alle
 And most honour that evere the shal befalle!
 And whan thyne olde auncestres peynted be,
 In which men may here worthynesse se,
 Thanne preye I God thow peynted be also
 That folk may rede forby as they go,
2540 `Lo! this is he that with his flaterye
 Bytraised hath and don hire vilenye
 That was his trewe love in thought and dede!'
 But sothly, of oo poynt yit may they rede,
 That ye ben lyk youre fader as in this,
 For he begiled Adriane, ywis,
 With swich an art and with swich subtilte
 As thow thyselven hast begyled me.
 As in that poynt, althogh it be nat fayr,
 Thow folwest hym, certayn, and art his ayr.
2550 But syn thus synfully ye me begile,
 My body mote ye se withinne a while,
 Ryght in the haven of Athenes fletynge,
 Withoute sepulture and buryinge,
 Thogh ye ben harder than is any ston."
 And whan this letter was forth sent anon,
 And knew how brotel and how fals he was,
 She for dispeyr fordide hyreself, allas.
 Swych sorwe hath she, for she besette hire so.
 Be war, ye wemen, of youre subtyl fo,
2560 Syn yit this day men may ensaumple se;
 And trusteth, as in love, no man but me.
 In Grece whilom weren brethren two,
 Of whiche that oon was called Danao,
 That many a sone hath of his body wonne,
 As swiche false lovers ofte conne.
 Among his sones alle there was oon
 That aldermost he lovede of everychoon.
 And whan this child was born, this Danao
 Shop hym a name and callede hym Lyno.
2570 That other brother called was Egiste,
 That was of love as fals as evere hym liste,
 And many a doughter gat he in his lyf;
 Of whiche he gat upon his ryghte wyf
 A doughter dere, and dide hire for to calle
 Ypermystra, yongeste of hem alle.
 The whiche child of hire natyvyte
 To alle thewes goode yborn was she,
 As likede to the goddes er she was born,
 That of the shef she sholde be the corn.
2580 The Wirdes, that we clepen Destine,
 Hath shapen hire that she mot nedes be
 Pyetous, sad, wis, and trewe as stel,
 As to these wemen it acordeth wel.
 For thogh that Venus yaf hire gret beaute,
 With Jupiter compouned so was she
 That conscience, trouthe, and drede of shame,
 And of hyre wifhod for to kepe hire name,
 This, thoughte hire, was felycite as here.
 The rede Mars was that tyme of the yeere
2590 So feble that his malyce is hym raft;
 Repressed hath Venus his crewel craft,
 That, what with Venus and other oppressioun
 Of houses, Mars his venim is adoun,
 That Ypermystra dar nat handle a knyf
 In malyce, thogh she shulde lese hire lyf.
 But natheles, as hevene gan tho turne,
 To badde aspectes hath she of Saturne,
 That made hire for to deyen in prisoun,
 As I shal after make mencioun.
2600 To Danao and Egistes also,
 Althogh so be that they were brethren two --
 For thilke tyme was spared no lynage --
 It lykede hem to make a maryage
 Bytwixen Ypermystre and hym Lyno,
 And casten swich a day it shal be so,
 And ful acorded was it utterly;
 The aray is wrought, the tyme is faste by.
 And thus Lyno hath of his faders brother
 The doughter wedded, and ech of hem hath other.
2610 The torches brennen, and the laumpes bryghte;
 The sacryfices ben ful redy dighte;
 Th' encens out of the fyre reketh sote;
 The flour, the lef is rent up by the rote
 To maken garlondes and crounes hye.
 Ful is the place of soun of minstralsye,
 Of songes amorous of maryage,
 As thylke tyme was the pleyne usage.
 And this was in the paleys of Egiste,
 That in his hous was lord, ryght as hym lyste.
2620 And thus the day they dryve to an ende;
 The frendes taken leve, and hom they wende;
 The nyght is come, the bryd shal go to bedde.
 Egistus to his chamber faste hym spedde,
 And prively he let his doughter calle.
 Whan that the hous was voyded of hem alle,
 He loketh on his doughter with glad chere
 And to hire spak, as ye shal after here:
 "My ryghte doughter, tresor of myn herte,
 Syn fyrst that day that shapen was my sherte,
2630 Or by the fatal systren had my dom,
 So nygh myn herte nevere thyng ne com
 As thow, myn Ypermystre, doughter dere.
 Tak hed what I, thy fader, seye the here,
 And werk after thy wiser evere mo.
 For alderfirst, doughter, I love the so
 That al the world to me nis half so lef;
 Ne I nolde rede the to thy myschef
 For al the good under the colde mone.
 And what I mene, it shal be seyd right sone,
2640 With protestacioun, as in this wyse,
 That, but thow do as I shal the devyse,
 Thow shalt be ded, by hym that al hath wrought!
 At shorte wordes, thow ne scapest nought
 Out of my paleys or that thow be ded,
 But thow consente and werke after my red;
 Tak this to thee for ful conclusioun."
 This Ypermystre caste hire eyen doun,
 And quok as doth the lef of aspe grene.
 Ded wex hire hew, and lyk an ash to sene,
2650 And seyde, "Lord and fader, al youre wille,
 After my myght, God wot, I shal fulfille,
 So it to me be no confusioun."
 "I nele," quod he, "have non excepcioun";
 And out he caught a knyf, as rasour kene.
 "Hyd this," quod he, "that it be nat ysene;
 And whan thyn husbonde is to bedde go,
 Whil that he slepeth, kit his throte atwo.
 For in my dremes it is warned me
 How that my nevew shal my bane be,
2660 But which I noot, wherfore I wol be siker.
 If thow sey nay, we two shul have a biker,
 As I have seyd, by hym that I have sworn!"
 This Ipermystre hath nygh hire wit forlorn;
 And, for to passen harmles of that place,
 She graunteth hym; ther is non other grace.
 And therwithal a costret taketh he,
 And seyde, "Herof a draught, or two, or thre,
 Yif hym to drynke, whan he goth to reste,
 And he shal slepe as longe as evere thee leste,
2670 The narcotyks and opies ben so stronge.
 And go thy wey, lest that him thynke longe."
 Out cometh the bryd, and with ful sobre cheere,
 As is of maydens ofte the manere,
 To chaumbre is brought with revel and with song.
 And shortly, lest this tale be to long,
 This Lyno and she ben brought to bedde,
 And every wight out at the dore hym spedde.
 The nyght is wasted, and he fyl aslepe.
 Ful tenderly begynneth she to wepe;
2680 She rist hire up, and dredfully she quaketh,
 As doth the braunche that Zepherus shaketh,
 And hust were alle in Argon that cite.
 As cold as any frost now waxeth she;
 For pite by the herte hire streyneth so,
 And drede of deth doth hire so moche wo,
 That thryes doun she fyl in swich a were.
 She rist yit up, and stakereth her and there,
 And on hire hondes faste loketh she.
 "Allas! and shal myne hondes blody be?
2690 I am a mayde, and, as by my nature,
 And bi my semblaunt and by my vesture,
 Myne handes ben nat shapen for a knyf,
 As for to reve no man fro his lyf.
 What devel have I with the knyf to do?
 And shal I have my throte korve a-two?
 Thanne shal I blede, allas, and me beshende!
 And nedes-cost this thyng moste have an ende;
 Or he or I mot nedes lese oure lyf.
 Now certes," quod she, "syn I am his wif,
2700 And hath my feyth, yit is it bet for me
 For to be ded in wifly honeste
 Than ben a traytour lyvynge in my shame.
 Be as be may, for ernest or for game,
 He shal awake, and ryse, and gon his way,
 Out at this goter, or that it be day" --
 And wep ful tenderly upon his face,
 And in hyre armes gan hym to enbrace,
 And hym she roggeth and awaketh softe.
 And at a wyndow lep he fro the lofte,
2710 Whan she hath warned hym, and don hym bote.
 This Lyno swift was, and lyght of fote,
 And from his wif he ran a ful good pas.
 This sely woman is so weik -- Allas! --
 And helples, so that or that she fer wente,
 Hire crewel fader dide hire for to hente.
 Allas, Lyno, whi art thow so unkynde?
 Why ne haddest thow remembred in thy mynde
 To taken hire, and lad hire forth with the?
 For whan she saw that gon awey was he,
2720 And that she myghte nat so faste go,
 Ne folwen hym, she sat hire doun ryght tho,
 Til she was caught and fetered in prysoun.
 This tale is seyd for this conclusioun --

---

The Shorter Poems

An ABC

 Almighty and al merciable queene,
 To whom that al this world fleeth for socour,
 To have relees of sinne, of sorwe, and teene,
 Glorious virgine, of alle floures flour,
 To thee I flee, confounded in errour.
 Help and releeve, thou mighti debonayre,
 Have mercy on my perilous langour.
 Venquisshed me hath my cruel adversaire.
 Bountee so fix hath in thin herte his tente
10 That wel I wot thou wolt my socour bee;
 Thou canst not warne him that with good entente
 Axeth thin helpe, thin herte is ay so free.
 Thou art largesse of pleyn felicitee,
 Haven of refut, of quiete, and of reste.
 Loo, how that theeves sevene chasen mee.
 Help, lady bright, er that my ship tobreste.
 Comfort is noon but in yow, ladi deere;
 For loo, my sinne and my confusioun,
 Which oughten not in thi presence appeere,
20 Han take on me a greevous accioun
 Of verrey right and desperacioun;
 And as bi right thei mighten wel susteene
 That I were wurthi my dampnacioun,
 Nere merci of you, blisful hevene queene.
 Dowte is ther noon, thou queen of misericorde,
 That thou n' art cause of grace and merci heere;
 God vouched sauf thurgh thee with us to accorde.
 For certes, Crystes blisful mooder deere,
 Were now the bowe bent in swich maneere
30 As it was first of justice and of ire,
 The rightful God nolde of no mercy heere;
 But thurgh thee han we grace as we desire.
 Evere hath myn hope of refut been in thee,
 For heer-biforn ful ofte in many a wyse
 Hast thou to misericorde receyved me.
 But merci, ladi, at the grete assyse
 Whan we shule come bifore the hye justyse.
 So litel fruit shal thanne in me be founde
 That, but thou er that day correcte [vice],
40 Of verrey right my werk wol me confounde.
 Fleeinge, I flee for socour to thi tente
 Me for to hide from tempeste ful of dreede,
 Biseeching yow that ye you not absente
 Thouh I be wikke. O, help yit at this neede!
 Al have I ben a beste in wil and deede,
 Yit, ladi, thou me cloth. with thi grace.
 Thin enemy and myn -- ladi, tak heede --
 Unto my deth in poynt is me to chace!
 Glorious mayde and mooder, which that nevere
50 Were bitter, neither in erthe nor in see,
 But ful of swetnesse and of merci evere,
 Help that my Fader be not wroth with me.
 Spek thou, for I ne dar not him ysee,
 So have I doon in erthe, allas the while,
 That certes, but if thou my socour bee,
 To stink eterne he wole my gost exile.
 He vouched sauf, tel him, as was his wille,
 Bicome a man, to have oure alliaunce,
 And with his precious blood he wrot the bille
60 Upon the crois as general acquitaunce
 To every penitent in ful creaunce;
 And therfore, ladi bright, thou for us praye.
 Thanne shalt thou bothe stinte al his grevaunce,
 And make oure foo to failen of his praye.
 I wot it wel, thou wolt ben oure socour,
 Thou art so ful of bowntee, in certeyn,
 For whan a soule falleth in errour
 Thi pitee goth and haleth him ayein.
 Thanne makest thou his pees with his sovereyn
70 And bringest him out of the crooked strete.
 Whoso thee loveth, he shal not love in veyn,
 That shal he fynde as he the lyf shal lete.
 Kalenderes enlumyned ben thei
 That in this world ben lighted with thi name,
 And whoso goth to yow the righte wey,
 Him thar not drede in soule to be lame.
 Now, queen of comfort, sith thou art that same
 To whom I seeche for my medicyne,
 Lat not my foo no more my wounde entame;
80 Myn hele into thin hand al I resygne.
 Ladi, thi sorwe kan I not portreye
 Under the cros, ne his greevous penaunce;
 But for youre bothes peynes I yow preye,
 Lat not oure alder foo make his bobaunce
 That he hath in his lystes of mischaunce
 Convict that ye bothe have bought so deere.
 As I seide erst, thou ground of oure substaunce,
 Continue on us thi pitous eyen cleere!
 Moises, that saugh the bush with flawmes rede
90 Brenninge, of which ther never a stikke brende,
 Was signe of thin unwemmed maidenhede.
 Thou art the bush on which ther gan descende
 The Holi Gost, the which that Moyses wende
 Had ben a-fyr, and this was in figure.
 Now, ladi, from the fyr thou us defende
 Which that in helle eternalli shal dure.
 Noble princesse, that nevere haddest peere,
 Certes if any comfort in us bee,
 That cometh of thee, thou Cristes mooder deere.
100 We han noon oother melodye or glee
 Us to rejoyse in oure adversitee,
 Ne advocat noon that wole and dar so preye
 For us, and that for litel hire as yee
 That helpen for an Ave-Marie or tweye.
 O verrey light of eyen that ben blynde,
 O verrey lust of labour and distresse,
 O tresoreere of bountee to mankynde,
 Thee whom God ches to mooder for humblesse!
 From his ancille he made the maistresse
110 Of hevene and erthe, oure bille up for to beede.
 This world awaiteth evere on thi goodnesse
 For thou ne failest nevere wight at neede.
 Purpos I have sum time for to enquere
 Wherfore and whi the Holi Gost thee soughte
 Whan Gabrielles vois cam to thin ere.
 He not to werre us swich a wonder wroughte,
 But for to save us that he sithen boughte.
 Thanne needeth us no wepen us for to save,
 But oonly ther we dide not, as us oughte,
120 Doo penitence, and merci axe and have.
 Queen of comfort, yit whan I me bithinke
 That I agilt have bothe him and thee,
 And that my soule is worthi for to sinke,
 Allas, I caityf, whider may I flee?
 Who shal unto thi Sone my mene bee?
 Who, but thiself, that art of pitee welle?
 Thou hast more reuthe on oure adversitee
 Than in this world might any tonge telle.
 Redresse me, mooder, and me chastise,
130 For certeynly my Faderes chastisinge,
 That dar I nouht abiden in no wise,
 So hidous is his rightful rekenynge.
 Mooder, of whom oure merci gan to springe,
 Beth ye my juge and eek my soules leche;
 For evere in you is pitee haboundinge
 To ech that wole of pitee you biseeche.
 Soth is that God ne granteth no pitee
 Withoute thee; for God of his goodnesse
 Foryiveth noon, but it like unto thee.
140 He hath thee maked vicaire and maistresse
 Of al this world, and eek governouresse
 Of hevene, and he represseth his justise
 After thi wil; and therfore in witnesse
 He hath thee corowned in so rial wise.
 Temple devout, ther God hath his woninge,
 Fro which these misbileeved deprived been,
 To you my soule penitent I bringe.
 Receyve me -- I can no ferther fleen.
 With thornes venymous, O hevene queen,
150 For which the eerthe acursed was ful yore,
 I am so wounded, as ye may wel seen,
 That I am lost almost, it smert so sore.
 Virgine, that art so noble of apparaile,
 And ledest us into the hye tour
 Of Paradys, thou me wisse and counsaile
 How I may have thi grace and thi socour,
 All have I ben in filthe and in errour.
 Ladi, unto that court thou me ajourne
 That cleped is thi bench, O freshe flour,
160 Ther as that merci evere shal sojourne.
 Xristus, thi sone, that in this world alighte
 Upon the cros to suffre his passioun,
 And eek that Longius his herte pighte
 And made his herte blood to renne adoun,
 And al was this for my salvacioun;
 And I to him am fals and eek unkynde,
 And yit he wole not my dampnacioun --
 This thanke I yow, socour of al mankynde!
 Ysaac was figure of his deth, certeyn,
170 That so fer forth his fader wolde obeye
 That him ne roughte nothing to be slayn;
 Right soo thi Sone list as a lamb to deye.
 Now, ladi ful of merci, I yow preye,
 Sith he his merci mesured so large,
 Be ye not skant, for alle we singe and seye
 That ye ben from vengeaunce ay oure targe.
 Zacharie yow clepeth the open welle
 To wasshe sinful soule out of his gilt.
 Therfore this lessoun oughte I wel to telle,
180 That, nere thi tender herte, we were spilt.
 Now, ladi bryghte, sith thou canst and wilt
 Ben to the seed of Adam merciable,
 Bring us to that palais that is bilt
 To penitentes that ben to merci able. Amen.

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The Shorter Poems

The Complaint Unto Pity

 Pite, that I have sought so yore agoo
 With herte soore and ful of besy peyne,
 That in this world was never wight so woo
 Withoute deth -- and yf I shal not feyne,
 My purpos was to Pite to compleyne
 Upon the crueltee and tirannye
 Of Love, that for my trouthe doth me dye.
 And when that I, be lengthe of certeyne yeres,
 Had evere in oon a tyme sought to speke,
10 To Pitee ran I al bespreynt with teres
 To prayen hir on Cruelte me awreke.
 But er I myghte with any word outbreke
 Or tellen any of my peynes smerte,
 I fond hir ded, and buried in an herte.
 Adoun I fel when that I saugh the herse,
 Ded as a ston while that the swogh me laste;
 But up I roos with colour ful dyverse
 And pitously on hir myn eyen I caste,
 And ner the corps I gan to presen faste,
20 And for the soule I shop me for to preye.
 I was but lorn, ther was no more to seye.
 Thus am I slayn sith that Pite is ded.
 Allas, that day, that ever hyt shulde falle.
 What maner man dar now hold up his hed?
 To whom shal any sorwful herte calle?
 Now Cruelte hath cast to slee us alle,
 In ydel hope, folk redeless of peyne,
 Syth she is ded, to whom shul we compleyne?
 But yet encreseth me this wonder newe,
30 That no wight woot that she is ded, but I --
 So many men as in her tyme hir knewe --
 And yet she dyed not so sodeynly,
 For I have sought hir ever ful besely
 Sith first I hadde wit or mannes mynde,
 But she was ded er that I koude hir fynde.
 Aboute hir herse there stoden lustely,
 Withouten any woo as thoughte me,
 Bounte parfyt, wel armed and richely,
 And fresshe Beaute, Lust, and Jolyte,
40 Assured Maner, Youthe, and Honeste,
 Wisdom, Estaat, Drede, and Governaunce,
 Confedred both by bonde and alliaunce.
 A compleynt had I, writen in myn hond,
 For to have put to Pite as a bille;
 But when I al this companye ther fond,
 That rather wolden al my cause spille
 Then do me help, I held my pleynte stille,
 For to that folk, withouten any fayle,
 Withoute Pitee ther may no bille availe.
50 Then leve I al these vertues, sauf Pite,
 Kepynge the corps as ye have herd me seyn,
 Confedered alle by bond of Cruelte
 And ben assented when I shal be sleyn.
 And I have put my complaynt up ageyn,
 For to my foes my bille I dar not shewe,
 Th' effect of which seith thus, in wordes fewe:
 Humblest of herte, highest of reverence,
 Benygne flour, coroune of vertues alle,
 Sheweth unto youre rial excellence
60 Youre servaunt, yf I durste me so calle,
 Hys mortal harm in which he is yfalle,
 And noght al oonly for his evel fare,
 But for your renoun, as he shal declare.
 Hit stondeth thus: your contraire, Crueltee,
 Allyed is ayenst your regalye
 Under colour of womanly Beaute --
 For men shulde not, lo, knowe hir tirannye --
 With Bounte, Gentilesse, and Curtesye,
 And hath depryved yow now of your place
70 That hyghte "Beaute apertenant to Grace."
 For kyndely by youre herytage ryght
 Ye ben annexed ever unto Bounte;
 And verrayly ye oughte do youre myght
 To helpe Trouthe in his adversyte.
 Ye be also the corowne of Beaute,
 And certes yf ye wanten in these tweyne,
 The world is lore; ther is no more to seyne.
 Eke what availeth Maner and Gentilesse
 Withoute yow, benygne creature?
80 Shal Cruelte be your governeresse?
 Allas, what herte may hyt longe endure?
 Wherfore, but ye the rather take cure
 To breke that perilouse alliaunce,
 Ye sleen hem that ben in your obeisaunce.
 And further over yf ye suffre this,
 Youre renoun ys fordoo than in a throwe;
 Ther shal no man wite well what Pite is.
 Allas, that your renoun is falle so lowe!
 Ye be than fro youre heritage ythrowe
90 By Cruelte that occupieth youre place,
 And we despeyred that seken to your grace.
 Have mercy on me, thow Herenus quene,
 That yow have sought so tendirly and yore;
 Let som strem of youre lyght on me be sene
 That love and drede yow ever lenger the more;
 For sothly for to seyne I bere the soore,
 And though I be not konnynge for to pleyne,
 For Goddis love have mercy on my peyne.
 My peyne is this, that what so I desire
100 That have I not, ne nothing lyk therto;
 And ever setteth Desir myn hert on fire.
 Eke on that other syde where so I goo,
 What maner thing that may encrese my woo,
 That have I redy, unsoght, everywhere;
 Me lakketh but my deth and than my bere.
 What nedeth to shewe parcel of my peyne?
 Syth every woo that herte may bethynke
 I suffre and yet I dar not to yow pleyne;
 For wel I wot although I wake or wynke,
110 Ye rekke not whether I flete or synke.
 But natheles yet my trouthe I shal sustene
 Unto my deth, and that shal wel be sene.
 This is to seyne I wol be youres evere,
 Though ye me slee by Crueltee your foo,
 Algate my spirit shal never dissevere
 Fro youre servise for any peyne or woo.
 Sith ye be ded -- allas that hyt is soo --
 Thus for your deth I may wel wepe and pleyne
 With herte sore and ful of besy peyne.

---

The Shorter Poems

A Complaint to His Lady

 The longe nightes, whan every creature
 Shulde have hir rest in somwhat as by kynde,
 Or elles ne may hir lif nat longe endure,
 Hit falleth most into my woful mynde
 How I so fer have broght myself behynde
 That, sauf the deeth, ther may nothyng me lisse,
 So desespaired I am from alle blisse.
 This same thoght me lasteth til the morwe
 And from the morwe forth til hit be eve;
10 Ther nedeth me no care for to borwe,
 For bothe I have good leyser and good leve;
 Ther is no wyght that wol me wo bereve
 To wepe ynogh and wailen al my fille;
 The sore spark of peyne now doth me spille.
 This Love, that hath me set in such a place
 That my desir [he] nevere wol fulfille,
 For neither pitee, mercy, neither grace
 Can I nat fynde, and yit my sorwful herte
 For to be deed I can hit nought arace.
20 The more I love, the more she doth me smerte,
 Thourgh which I see withoute remedye
 That from the deeth I may no wyse asterte.
 Now sothly what she hight I wol reherse:
 Hir name is Bountee set in womanhede,
 Sadnesse in youthe and Beautee prydelees
 And Plesaunce under governaunce and drede;
 Hir surname is eek Faire Rewthelees
 The Wyse, yknit unto Good Aventure,
 That, for I love hir, she sleeth me giltelees.
30 Hir love I best, and shal, whyl I may dure,
 Bet than myself an hundred thousand deel,
 Than al this worldes richesse or creature.
 Now hath not Love me bestowed weel
 To love ther I never shal have part?
 Allas, right thus is turned me the wheel,
 Thus am I slayn with Loves fyry dart!
 I can but love hir best, my swete fo;
 Love hath me taught no more of his art
 But serve alwey and stinte for no wo.
40 In my trewe [and] careful herte ther is
 So moche wo and [eek] so litel blis
 That wo is me that ever I was bore;
 For al that thyng which I desyre I mis
 And al that ever I wolde not ywis,
 That finde I redy to me evermore;
 And of al this I not to whom me pleyne.
 For she that mighte me out of this brynge
 Ne reccheth nought whether I wepe or synge,
 So litel rewthe hath she upon my peyne.
50 Allas! Whan slepyng-tyme is than I wake,
 Whan I shulde daunce, for fere, lo, than I quake.
 This hevy lif I lede, lo, for your sake
 Thogh ye therof in no wyse hede take,
 Myn hertes lady and hool my lyves quene.
 For trewly durste I seye as that I fele,
 Me semeth that your swete herte of stele
 Is whetted now ageynes me to kene.
 My dere herte and best beloved fo,
 Why lyketh yow to do me al this wo?
60 What have I doon that greveth yow or sayd,
 But for I serve and love yow and no mo?
 And while I lyve I wol ever do so,
 And therfor, swete, ne beth nat yvel apayd.
 For so good and so fair as ye be
 Hit were right gret wonder but ye hadde
 Of alle servantes, bothe of goode and badde;
 And leest worthy of alle hem, I am he.
 But nevertheles, my righte lady swete,
 Thogh that I be unconnyng and unmete
70 To serve, as I coude best, ay your hynesse,
 Yit is ther noon fayner, that wolde I hete,
 Than I, to do yow ese, or elles bete
 What so I wiste that were to youre hevynesse;
 And hadde I myght as good as I have wille,
 Than shulde ye fele wher it were so or noon;
 For in this world livyng than is ther noon
 That fayner wolde your hertes wil fulfille.
 For bothe I love and eek drede yow so sore,
 And algates moot, and have doon yow, ful yore,
80 That bettre loved is noon ne never shal;
 And yit I wolde beseche yow of no more,
 But leveth wel and be not wrooth therfore,
 And lat me serve yow forth; lo, this is al.
 For I am not so hardy ne so wood,
 For to desire that ye shulde love me,
 For wel I wot -- allas -- that wil nat be;
 I am so litel worthy and ye so good.
 For ye be oon the worthiest on-lyve
 And I the most unlykly for to thryve,
90 Yit for al this, witeth ye right wele
 That ye ne shul me from your servyce dryve
 That I ne wil ay, with alle my wittes fyve,
 Serve yow trewly, what wo so that I fele.
 For I am set on yow in such manere
 That, thogh ye never wil upon me rewe,
 I moste yow love and been ever as trewe
 As any man can, or may, on-lyve [here].
 But the more that I love yow, goodly free,
 The lasse fynde I that ye loven me;
100 Allas, whan shal that harde wit amende?
 Wher is now al your wommanly pitee,
 Your gentilesse and your debonairtee?
 Wil ye nothyng therof upon me spende?
 And so hool, swete, as I am youres al,
 And so gret wil as I have yow to serve,
 Now certes, and ye lete me thus sterve,
 Yit have ye wonne theron but a smal.
 For at my knowyng I do nought why,
 And this I wol beseche yow hertely,
110 That ther ever ye fynde, whyles ye lyve,
 A trewer servant to yow than am I,
 Leveth thanne and sleeth me hardely,
 And I my deeth to yow wol al foryive.
 And if ye fynde no trewer verrayly,
 Wil ye suffre than that I thus spille
 And for no maner gilt but my good wille?
 As good were thanne untrewe as trewe to be.
 But I, my lyf and deeth, to yow obeye
 And with right buxom herte hooly I preye
120 As is your moste plesure, so doth by me;
 Wel lever is me liken yow and deye
 Than for to anythyng or thynke or seye
 That yow myghte offende in any tyme.
 And therfor, swete, rewe on my peynes smerte,
 And of your grace graunteth me som drope,
 For elles may me laste no blis ne hope,
 Ne dwelle within my trouble careful herte.

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The Shorter Poems

The Complaint of Mars

 Gladeth, ye foules, of the morowe gray;
 Lo, Venus, rysen among yon rowes rede.
 And floures fressh, honoureth ye this day,
 For when the sunne uprist then wol ye sprede.
 But ye lovers, that lye in any drede,
 Fleeth, lest wikked tonges yow espye.
 Lo, yond the sunne, the candel of jelosye!
 Wyth teres blewe and with a wounded herte
 Taketh your leve, and with Seint John to borowe
10 Apeseth sumwhat of your sorowes smerte.
 Tyme cometh eft that cese shal your sorowe;
 The glade nyght ys worth an hevy morowe --
 Seynt Valentyne, a foul thus herde I synge
 Upon thy day er sonne gan up-sprynge.
 Yet sang this foul -- I rede yow al awake,
 And ye that han not chosen in humble wyse,
 Without repentynge cheseth yow your make,
 And ye that han ful chosen as I devise,
 Yet at the leste renoveleth your servyse.
20 Confermeth hyt perpetuely to dure,
 And paciently taketh your aventure.
 And for the worship of this highe feste,
 Yet wol I, in my briddes wise, synge
 The sentence of the compleynt, at the leste,
 That woful Mars made atte departyng
 Fro fresshe Venus in a morwenynge,
 Whan Phebus with his firy torches rede
 Ransaked every lover in hys drede.
 Whilom the thridde hevenes lord above,
30 As wel by hevenysh revolucioun
 As by desert, hath wonne Venus his love,
 And she hath take him in subjeccioun,
 And as a maistresse taught him his lessoun,
 Commaundynge him that nevere, in her servise,
 He nere so bold no lover to dispise.
 For she forbad him jelosye at al,
 And cruelte, and bost, and tyrannye.
 She made him at her lust so humble and tal,
 That when her deyned to cast on hym her ye,
40 He tok in pacience to lyve or dye.
 And thus she brydeleth him in her manere,
 With nothing but with scourging of her chere.
 Who regneth now in blysse but Venus,
 That hath thys worthy knyght in governaunce?
 Who syngeth now but Mars, that serveth thus
 The faire Venus, causer of plesaunce?
 He bynt him to perpetuall obeisaunce,
 And she bynt her to loven him for evere,
 But so be that his trespas hyt desevere.
50 Thus be they knyt and regnen as in hevene
 Be lokyng moost; til hyt fil on a tyde
 That by her bothe assent was set a stevene
 That Mars shal entre, as fast as he may glyde,
 Into hir nexte paleys, and ther abyde,
 Walkynge hys cours, til she had him atake,
 And he preide her to haste her for his sake.
 Then seyde he thus, "Myn hertes lady swete,
 Ye knowe wel my myschef in that place,
 For sikerly, til that I with yow mete,
60 My lyf stant ther in aventure and grace;
 But when I se the beaute of your face,
 Ther ys no drede of deth may do me smerte,
 For al your lust is ese to myn herte."
 She hath so gret compassioun of her knyght,
 That dwelleth in solitude til she come --
 For hyt stod so that thilke tyme no wight
 Counseyled hym ther, ne seyde to hym welcome --
 That nygh her wit for wo was overcome;
 Wherfore she sped her as faste in her weye
70 Almost in oo day as he dyde in tweye.
 The grete joye that was betwix hem two
 When they be mette ther may no tunge telle.
 Ther is no more but unto bed thei go,
 And thus in joy and blysse I lete hem duelle.
 This worthi Mars, that is of knyghthod welle,
 The flour of feyrnesse lappeth in his armes,
 And Venus kysseth Mars, the god of armes.
 Sojourned hath this Mars of which I rede
 In chambre amyd the paleys prively
80 A certeyn tyme, til him fel a drede
 Throgh Phebus, that was comen hastely
 Within the paleys yates sturdely,
 With torche in honde, of which the stremes bryghte
 On Venus chambre knokkeden ful lyghte.
 The chambre ther as ley this fresshe quene
 Depeynted was with white boles grete,
 And by the lyght she knew, that shon so shene,
 That Phebus cam to brenne hem with his hete.
 This sely Venus nygh dreynt in teres wete
90 Enbraceth Mars and seyde, "Alas, I dye!
 The torche is come that al this world wol wrie."
 Up sterte Mars; hym liste not to slepe
 When he his lady herde so compleyne,
 But, for his nature was not for to wepe,
 In stede of teres, from his eyen tweyne
 The firi sparkes brosten out for peyne,
 And hente his hauberk that ley hym besyde.
 Fle wolde he not, ne myghte himselven hide.
 He throweth on his helm of huge wyghte,
100 And girt him with his swerd, and in his hond
 His myghty spere, as he was wont to fyghte,
 He shaketh so that almost hit towond.
 Ful hevy was he to walken over lond;
 He may not holde with Venus companye
 But bad her fleen lest Phebus her espye.
 O woful Mars -- alas -- what maist thou seyn,
 That in the paleys of thy disturbaunce
 Art left byhynde in peril to be sleyn?
 And yet therto ys double thy penaunce,
110 For she that hath thyn herte in governaunce
 Is passed half the stremes of thin yen;
 That thou nere swift, wel maist thou wepe and crien.
 Now fleeth Venus unto Cilenios tour
 With voide cours for fere of Phebus lyght --
 Alas -- and ther ne hath she no socour,
 For she ne found ne saugh no maner wyght,
 And eke as ther she hath but litil myght,
 Wherfor, herselven for to hyde and save,
 Within the gate she fledde into a cave.
120 Derk was this cave and smokyng as the helle;
 Not but two pas within the yate hit stod.
 A naturel day in derk I lete her duelle.
 Now wol I speke of Mars, furious and wod.
 For sorow he wolde have sen his herte blod;
 Sith that he myghte don her no companye,
 He ne roghte not a myte for to dye.
 So feble he wex for hete and for his wo
 That nygh he swelte, he myghte unnethe endure;
 He passeth but o steyre in dayes two.
130 But nathelesse, for al his hevy armure,
 He foloweth her that is his lyves cure,
 For whos departyng he tok gretter ire
 Then for al his brennyng in the fire.
 After he walketh softely a paas,
 Compleynyng, that hyt pite was to here,
 He seyde, "O lady bryght, Venus, alas,
 That evere so wyd a compas ys my spere!
 Alas, when shal I mete yow, herte dere?
 This twelfte daye of April I endure
140 Throgh jelous Phebus this mysaventure."
 Now God helpe sely Venus allone.
 But as God wolde, hyt happed for to be
 That, while that Venus weping made her mone,
 Cilenius, rydinge in his chevache,
 Fro Venus valaunse myghte his paleys se,
 And Venus he salueth and doth chere,
 And her receyveth as his frend ful dere.
 Mars dwelleth forth in his adversyte,
 Compleynyng ever on her departynge,
150 And what his compleynt was, remembreth me;
 And therfore, in this lusty morwenynge
 As I best can, I wol hit seyn and synge;
 And after that I wol my leve take,
 And God yeve every wyght joy of his make!
 The ordre of compleynt requireth skylfully
 That yf a wight shal pleyne pitously,
 Ther mot be cause wherfore that men pleyne;
 Or men may deme he pleyneth folily
 And causeles; alas, that am not I.
160 Wherfore the ground and cause of al my peyne,
 So as my troubled wit may hit atteyne,
 I wol reherse; not for to have redresse,
 But to declare my ground of hevynesse.
 The firste tyme, alas, that I was wroght
 And for certeyn effectes hider broght
 Be him that lordeth ech intelligence,
 I yaf my trewe servise and my thoght
 For evermore -- how dere I have hit boght --
 To her that is of so gret excellence
170 That what wight that first sheweth his presence,
 When she is wroth and taketh of hym no cure,
 He may not longe in joye of love endure.
 This is no feyned mater that I telle;
 My lady is the verrey sours and welle
 Of beaute, lust, fredom, and gentilnesse,
 Of riche aray -- how dere men hit selle! --
 Of al disport in which men frendly duelle,
 Of love and pley, and of benigne humblesse,
 Of soun of instrumentes of al swetnesse;
180 And therto so wel fortuned and thewed
 That thorogh the world her goodnesse is yshewed.
 What wonder ys it then, thogh I besette
 My servise on such on that may me knette
 To wele or wo sith hit lyth in her myght?
 Therfore my herte forever I to her hette,
 Ne truly, for my deth, I shal not lette
 To ben her truest servaunt and her knyght.
 I flater noght, that may wete every wyght;
 For this day in her servise shal I dye.
190 But grace be, I se her never wyth ye.
 To whom shal I than pleyne of my distresse?
 Who may me helpe? Who may my harm redresse?
 Shal I compleyne unto my lady fre?
 Nay, certes, for she hath such hevynesse,
 For fere and eke for wo that, as I gesse,
 In lytil tyme hit wol her bane be.
 But were she sauf, hit were no fors of me.
 Alas, that ever lovers mote endure
 For love so many a perilous aventure!
200 For thogh so be that lovers be as trewe
 As any metal that is forged newe,
 In many a cas hem tydeth ofte sorowe.
 Somtyme her lady wil not on hem rewe;
 Somtyme yf that jelosie hyt knewe,
 They myghten lyghtly leye her hed to borowe;
 Somtyme envyous folk with tunges horowe
 Depraven hem; alas, whom may they plese?
 But he be fals, no lover hath non ese.
 But what availeth such a long sermoun
210 Of aventures of love up and doun?
 I wol returne and speken of my peyne.
 The poynt is this of my distruccioun:
 My righte lady, my savacyoun,
 Is in affray, and not to whom to pleyne.
 O herte swete, O lady sovereyne!
 For your disese wel oughte I swowne and swelte,
 Though I non other harm ne drede felte.
 To what fyn made the God, that sit so hye,
 Benethen him love other companye
220 And streyneth folk to love, malgre her hed?
 And then her joy, for oght I can espye,
 Ne lasteth not the twynkelyng of an ye,
 And somme han never joy til they be ded.
 What meneth this? What is this mystihed?
 Wherto constreyneth he his folk so faste
 Thing to desyre, but hit shulde laste?
 And thogh he made a lover love a thing
 And maketh hit seme stedfast and during,
 Yet putteth he in hyt such mysaventure
230 That reste nys ther non in his yeving.
 And that is wonder, that so juste a kyng
 Doth such hardnesse to his creature.
 Thus, whether love breke or elles dure,
 Algates he that hath with love to done
 Hath ofter wo then changed ys the mone.
 Hit semeth he hath to lovers enmyte,
 And lyk a fissher, as men alday may se,
 Baiteth hys angle-hok with som plesaunce
 Til many a fissh ys wod til that he be
240 Sesed therwith; and then at erst hath he
 Al his desir, and therwith al myschaunce;
 And thogh the lyne breke, he hath penaunce;
 For with the hok he wounded is so sore
 That he his wages hath for evermore.
 The broche of Thebes was of such a kynde,
 So ful of rubies and of stones of Ynde
 That every wight, that sette on hit an ye,
 He wende anon to worthe out of his mynde;
 So sore the beaute wolde his herte bynde.
250 Til he hit had, him thoghte he moste dye;
 And whan that hit was his, then shulde he drye
 Such woo for drede, ay while that he hit hadde,
 That wel nygh for the fere he shulde madde.
 And whan hit was fro his possessioun,
 Then had he double wo and passioun
 For he so feir a tresor had forgo;
 But yet this broche as in conclusioun
 Was not the cause of his confusioun,
 But he that wroghte hit enfortuned hit so
260 That every wight that had hit shulde have wo;
 And therfore in the worcher was the vice,
 And in the covetour that was so nyce.
 So fareth hyt by lovers and by me;
 For thogh my lady have so gret beaute
 That I was mad til I had gete her grace,
 She was not cause of myn adversite,
 But he that wroghte her, also mot I the,
 That putte such a beaute in her face,
 That made me coveyten and purchace
270 Myn oune deth -- him wite I that I dye,
 And myn unwit that ever I clamb so hye.
 But to yow, hardy knyghtes of renoun,
 Syn that ye be of my devisioun,
 Al be I not worthy to so gret a name,
 Yet, seyn these clerkes, I am your patroun;
 Therfore ye oghte have som compassioun
 Of my disese, and take hit not a-game.
 The proudest of yow may be mad ful tame;
 Wherfore I prey yow of your gentilesse
280 That ye compleyne for myn hevynesse.
 And ye, my ladyes, that ben true and stable,
 Be wey of kynde, ye oughten to be able
 To have pite of folk that be in peyne.
 Now have ye cause to clothe yow in sable,
 Sith that youre emperise, the honurable,
 Is desolat; wel oghte ye to pleyne.
 Now shulde your holy teres falle and reyne.
 Alas, your honour and your emperise,
 Negh ded for drede ne can her not chevise!
290 Compleyneth eke, ye lovers, al in-fere,
 For her that with unfeyned humble chere
 Was evere redy to do yow socour;
 Compleyneth her that evere hath had yow dere;
 Compleyneth Beaute, Fredom, and Manere;
 Compleyneth her that endeth your labour;
 Compleyneth thilke ensample of al honour,
 That never dide but al gentilesse;
 Kytheth therfore on her sum kyndenesse.

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The Shorter Poems

The Complaint of Venus

 Ther nys so high comfort to my pleasaunce,
 When that I am in any hevynesse,
 As for to have leyser of remembraunce
 Upon the manhod and the worthynesse,
 Upon the trouthe and on the stidfastnesse
 Of him whos I am al, while I may dure.
 Ther oghte blame me no creature,
 For every wight preiseth his gentilesse.
 In him is bounte, wysdom, governaunce,
10 Wel more then any mannes wit can gesse,
 For grace hath wold so ferforth hym avaunce
 That of knyghthod he is parfit richesse.
 Honour honoureth him for his noblesse;
 Therto so wel hath formed him Nature
 That I am his for ever, I him assure,
 For every wight preyseth his gentilesse.
 And notwithstondyng al his suffisaunce,
 His gentil herte is of so gret humblesse
 To me in word, in werk, in contenaunce,
20 And me to serve is al his besynesse,
 That I am set in verrey sikernesse.
 Thus oghte I blesse wel myn aventure
 Sith that him list me serven and honoure,
 For every wight preiseth his gentilesse.
 Now certis, Love, hit is right covenable
 That men ful dere bye thy nobil thing,
 As wake abedde and fasten at the table,
 Wepinge to laughe and singe in compleynyng,
 And doun to caste visage and lokyng,
30 Often to chaunge hewe and contenaunce,
 Pleyne in slepyng and dremen at the daunce,
 Al the revers of any glad felyng.
 Jelosie be hanged by a cable!
 She wolde al knowe thurgh her espying;
 Ther doth no wyght nothing so resonable
 That al nys harm in her ymagenyng.
 Thus dere abought is Love in yevyng,
 Which ofte he yiveth withouten ordynaunce,
 As sorwe ynogh and litil of plesaunce,
40 Al the revers of any glad felyng.
 A lytel tyme his yift ys agreable,
 But ful encomberous is the usyng,
 For subtil Jelosie, the deceyvable,
 Ful often tyme causeth desturbyng.
 Thus be we ever in drede and sufferyng;
 In nouncerteyn we languisshe in penaunce,
 And han wele ofte many an hard mischaunce,
 Al the revers of any glad felyng.
 But certes, Love, I sey not in such wise
50 That for t' escape out of youre las I mente,
 For I so longe have ben in your servise
 That for to lete of wil I never assente;
 No fors thogh Jelosye me turmente.
 Sufficeth me to sen hym when I may,
 And therfore certes, to myn endyng day
 To love hym best ne shal I never repente.
 And certis, Love, when I me wel avise
 On any estat that man may represente,
 Then have ye made me thurgh your fraunchise
60 Chese the best that ever on erthe wente.
 Now love wel, herte, and lok thou never stente,
 And let the jelous putte it in assay
 That for no peyne wol I not sey nay;
 To love him best ne shal I never repente.
 Herte, to the hit oughte ynogh suffise
 That Love so high a grace to the sente
 To chese the worthieste in alle wise
 And most agreable unto myn entente.
 Seche no ferther, neythir wey ne wente,
70 Sith I have suffisaunce unto my pay.
 Thus wol I ende this compleynt or this lay;
 To love hym best ne shal I never repente.
 Princes, receyveth this compleynt in gre,
 Unto your excelent benignite
 Direct after my litel suffisaunce.
 For elde, that in my spirit dulleth me,
 Hath of endyting al the subtilte
 Wel nygh bereft out of my remembraunce,
 And eke to me it ys a gret penaunce,
80 Syth rym in Englissh hath such skarsete,
 To folowe word by word the curiosite
 Of Graunson, flour of hem that make in Fraunce.

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The Shorter Poems

To Rosemounde

 Madame, ye ben of al beaute shryne
 As fer as cercled is the mapamounde,
 For as the cristal glorious ye shyne,
 And lyke ruby ben your chekes rounde.
 Therwith ye ben so mery and so jocounde
 That at a revel whan that I see you daunce,
 It is an oynement unto my wounde,
 Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.
 For thogh I wepe of teres ful a tyne,
10 Yet may that wo myn herte nat confounde;
 Your semy voys that ye so smal out twyne
 Maketh my thoght in joy and blis habounde.
 So curtaysly I go with love bounde
 That to myself I sey in my penaunce,
 "Suffyseth me to love you, Rosemounde,
 Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce."
 Nas never pyk walwed in galauntyne
 As I in love am walwed and ywounde,
 For which ful ofte I of myself devyne
20 That I am trewe Tristam the secounde.
 My love may not refreyde nor affounde,
 I brenne ay in an amorous plesaunce.
 Do what you lyst, I wyl your thral be founde,
 Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.

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The Shorter Poems

Womanly Noblesse

 So hath myn herte caught in remembraunce
 Your beaute hoole and stidefast governaunce,
 Your vertues al and yowre hie noblesse,
 That you to serve is set al my plesaunce.
 So wel me liketh your womanly contenaunce,
 Your fresshe fetures and your comlynesse,
 That whiles I live myn hert to his maystresse
 You hath ful chose in trewe perseveraunce
 Never to chaunge, for no maner distresse.
10 And sith I shal do [you] this observaunce,
 Al my lif withouten displesaunce
 You for to serve with al my besynesse,
 And have me somwhat in your souvenaunce.
 My woful herte suffreth greet duresse,
 And [loke] how humbly with al symplesse
 My wil I conforme to your ordynaunce,
 As you best list, my peynes for to redresse.
 Considryng eke how I hange in balaunce
 In your service, such, lo, is my chaunce,
20 Abidyng grace, whan that your gentilnesse
 Of my grete wo liste do alleggeaunce,
 And with your pite me som wise avaunce
 In ful rebatyng of myn hevynesse;
 And thynketh by resoun that wommanly noblesse
 Shuld nat desire for to do the outrance
 Ther as she fyndeth non unbuxumnesse.
 Auctour of norture, lady of plesaunce,
 Soveraigne of beautee, floure of wommanhede,
 Take ye non hede unto myn ignoraunce,
30 But this receyveth of your goodlihede,
 Thynkyng that I have caught in remembraunce,
 Your beaute hole, your stidefast governaunce.

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The Shorter Poems

Chaucers Wordes unto Adam, His Owne Scriveyn

 Adam scriveyn, if ever it thee bifalle
 Boece or Troylus for to wryten newe,
 Under thy long lokkes thou most have the scalle,
 But after my makyng thow wryte more trewe;
 So ofte adaye I mot thy werk renewe,
 It to correcte and eke to rubbe and scrape,
 And al is thorugh thy negligence and rape.

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The Shorter Poems

The Former Age

 A blisful lyf, a paisible and a swete,
 Ledden the peples in the former age.
 They helde hem payed of the fruites that they ete,
 Which that the feldes yave hem by usage;
 They ne were nat forpampred with outrage.
 Unknowen was the quern and ek the melle;
 They eten mast, hawes, and swich pounage,
 And dronken water of the colde welle.
 Yit nas the ground nat wounded with the plough,
10 But corn up-sprong, unsowe of mannes hond,
 The which they gnodded and eete nat half ynough.
 No man yit knew the forwes of his lond,
 No man the fyr out of the flint yit fond,
 Unkorven and ungrobbed lay the vyne;
 No man yit in the morter spyces grond
 To clarre ne to sause of galantyne.
 No mader, welde, or wood no litestere
 Ne knew; the flees was of his former hewe;
 No flesh ne wiste offence of egge or spere.
20 No coyn ne knew man which was fals or trewe,
 No ship yit karf the wawes grene and blewe,
 No marchaunt yit ne fette outlandish ware.
 No trompes for the werres folk ne knewe,
 Ne toures heye and walles rounde or square.
 What sholde it han avayled to werreye?
 Ther lay no profit, ther was no richesse;
 But cursed was the tyme, I dare wel seye,
 That men first dide hir swety bysinesse
 To grobbe up metal, lurkinge in derknesse,
30 And in the riveres first gemmes soghte.
 Allas, than sprong up al the cursednesse
 Of coveytyse, that first our sorwe broghte.
 Thise tyraunts putte hem gladly nat in pres
 No wildnesse ne no busshes for to winne,
 Ther poverte is, as seith Diogenes,
 Ther as vitaile is ek so skars and thinne
 That noght but mast or apples is therinne;
 But, ther as bagges ben and fat vitaile,
 Ther wol they gon, and spare for no sinne
40 With al hir ost the cite for to asayle.
 Yit was no paleis-chaumbres ne non halles;
 In caves and wodes softe and swete
 Slepten this blissed folk withoute walles
 On gras or leves in parfit quiete.
 Ne doun of fetheres ne no bleched shete
 Was kid to hem, but in seurtee they slepte.
 Hir hertes were al oon withoute galles;
 Everich of hem his feith to other kepte.
 Unforged was the hauberk and the plate;
50 The lambish peple, voyd of alle vyce,
 Hadden no fantasye to debate,
 But ech of hem wolde other wel cheryce.
 No pryde, non envye, non avaryce,
 No lord, no taylage by no tyrannye;
 Humblesse and pees, good feith the emperice.
 Yit was not Jupiter the likerous,
 That first was fader of delicacye,
 Come in this world; ne Nembrot, desirous
 To regne, had nat maad his toures hye.
60 Allas, allas, now may men wepe and crye!
 For in oure dayes nis but covetyse,
 Doublenesse, and tresoun, and envye,
 Poyson, manslawhtre, and mordre in sondry wyse.

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The Shorter Poems

Fortune

 This wrecched worldes transmutacioun,
 As wele or wo, now povre and now honour,
 Withouten ordre or wys discrecioun
 Governed is by Fortunes errour.
 But natheles, the lak of hir favour
 Ne may nat don me singen though I dye,
 Jay tout perdu mon temps et mon labour;
 For fynally, Fortune, I thee defye.
 Yit is me left the light of my resoun
10 To knowen frend fro fo in thy mirour.
 So muchel hath yit thy whirling up and doun
 Ytaught me for to knowen in an hour.
 But trewely, no force of thy reddour
 To him that over himself hath the maystrye.
 My suffisaunce shal be my socour,
 For fynally Fortune, I thee defye.
 O Socrates, thou stidfast champioun,
 She never mighte be thy tormentour;
 Thou never dreddest hir oppressioun,
20 Ne in hir chere founde thou no savour.
 Thou knewe wel the deceit of hir colour,
 And that hir moste worshipe is to lye.
 I knowe hir eek a fals dissimulour,
 For fynally, Fortune, I thee defye!
 No man is wrecched but himself it wene,
 And he that hath himself hath suffisaunce.
 Why seystow thanne I am to thee so kene,
 That hast thyself out of my governaunce?
 Sey thus: "Graunt mercy of thyn haboundaunce
30 That thou hast lent or this." Why wolt thou stryve?
 What wostow yit how I thee wol avaunce?
 And eek thou hast thy beste frend alyve.
 I have thee taught divisioun bitwene
 Frend of effect and frend of countenaunce;
 Thee nedeth nat the galle of noon hyene,
 That cureth eyen derked for penaunce;
 Now seestow cleer that were in ignoraunce.
 Yit halt thyn ancre and yit thou mayst arryve
 Ther bountee berth the keye of my substaunce,
40 And eek thou hast thy beste frend alyve.
 How many have I refused to sustene
 Sin I thee fostred have in thy plesaunce.
 Woltow than make a statut on thy quene
 That I shal been ay at thyn ordinaunce?
 Thou born art in my regne of variaunce,
 Aboute the wheel with other most thou dryve.
 My lore is bet than wikke is thy grevaunce,
 And eek thou hast thy beste frend alyve.
 Thy lore I dampne; it is adversitee.
50 My frend maystow nat reven, blind goddesse;
 That I thy frendes knowe, I thanke it thee.
 Tak hem agayn, lat hem go lye on presse.
 The negardye in keping hir richesse
 Prenostik is thou wolt hir tour assayle;
 Wikke appetyt comth ay before syknesse.
 In general, this reule may nat fayle.
 Thou pinchest at my mutabilitee
 For I thee lente a drope of my richesse,
 And now me lyketh to withdrawe me.
60 Why sholdestow my realtee oppresse?
 The see may ebbe and flowen more or lesse;
 The welkne hath might to shyne, reyne, or hayle;
 Right so mot I kythen my brotelnesse.
 In general, this reule may nat fayle.
 Lo, th' execucion of the majestee
 That al purveyeth of his rightwysnesse,
 That same thing "Fortune" clepen ye,
 Ye blinde bestes ful of lewednesse.
 The hevene hath propretee of sikernesse,
70 This world hath ever resteles travayle;
 Thy laste day is ende of myn intresse.
 In general, this reule may nat fayle.
 Princes, I prey you of your gentilesse
 Lat nat this man on me thus crye and pleyne,
 And I shal quyte you your bisinesse
 At my requeste, as three of you or tweyne,
 And but you list releve him of his peyne,
 Preyeth his beste frend of his noblesse
 That to som beter estat he may atteyne.

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The Shorter Poems

Truth

 Flee fro the prees and dwelle with sothfastnesse;
 Suffyce unto thy thing, though it be smal,
 For hord hath hate, and climbing tikelnesse,
 Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal.
 Savour no more than thee bihove shal,
 Reule wel thyself that other folk canst rede,
 And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede.
 Tempest thee noght al croked to redresse
 In trust of hir that turneth as a bal;
10 Gret reste stant in litel besinesse.
 Be war therfore to sporne ayeyns an al,
 Stryve not, as doth the crokke with the wal.
 Daunte thyself, that dauntest otheres dede,
 And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede.
 That thee is sent, receyve in buxumnesse;
 The wrastling for this world axeth a fal.
 Her is non hoom, her nis but wildernesse:
 Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out of thy stal!
 Know thy contree, look up, thank God of al;
20 Hold the heye wey and lat thy gost thee lede,
 And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede.
 Therfore, thou Vache, leve thyn old wrecchednesse;
 Unto the world leve now to be thral.
 Crye him mercy, that of his hy goodnesse
 Made thee of noght, and in especial
 Draw unto him, and pray in general
 For thee, and eek for other, hevenlich mede;
 And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede.

---

The Shorter Poems

Gentilesse

 The firste stok, fader of gentilesse --
 What man that desireth gentil for to be
 Must folowe his trace, and alle his wittes dresse
 Vertu to love and vyces for to flee.
 For unto vertu longeth dignitee
 And noght the revers, saufly dar I deme,
 Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.
 This firste stok was ful of rightwisnesse,
 Trewe of his word, sobre, pitous, and free,
10 Clene of his gost, and loved besinesse,
 Ayeinst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee;
 And, but his heir love vertu as dide he,
 He is noght gentil, thogh 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,
 Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse
 (That is appropred unto no degree
 But to the firste fader in magestee,
20 That maketh hem his heyres that him queme),
 Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

---

The Shorter Poems

Lak of Stedfastnesse

 Somtyme the world was so stedfast and stable
 That mannes word was obligacioun,
 And now it is so fals and deceivable
 That word and deed, as in conclusioun,
 Ben nothing lyk, for turned up-so-doun
 Is al this world for mede and wilfulnesse,
 That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse.
 What maketh this world to be so variable
 But lust that folk have in dissensioun?
10 For among us now a man is holde unable,
 But if he can by som collusioun
 Don his neighbour wrong or oppressioun.
 What causeth this but wilful wrecchednesse,
 That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse?
 Trouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable,
 Vertu hath now no dominacioun;
 Pitee exyled, no man is merciable.
 Through covetyse is blent discrecioun.
 The world hath mad a permutacioun
20 Fro right to wrong, fro trouthe to fikelnesse,
 That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse.
 O prince, desyre to be honourable,
 Cherish thy folk and hate extorcioun.
 Suffre nothing that may be reprevable
 To thyn estat don in thy regioun.
 Shew forth thy swerd of castigacioun,
 Dred God, do law, love trouthe and worthinesse,
 And wed thy folk agein to stedfastnesse.

---

The Shorter Poems

Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan

 Tobroken been the statutz hye in hevene
 That creat were eternally to dure,
 Syth that I see the bryghte goddis sevene
 Mowe wepe and wayle, and passioun endure,
 As may in erthe a mortal creature.
 Allas, fro whennes may thys thing procede,
 Of which errour I deye almost for drede?
 By word eterne whilom was it shape
 That fro the fyfte sercle, in no manere,
10 Ne myght a drope of teeres doun escape.
 But now so wepith Venus in hir spere
 That with hir teeres she wol drenche us here.
 Allas! Scogan, this is for thyn offence;
 Thow causest this diluge of pestilence.
 Hastow not seyd, in blaspheme of the goddis,
 Thurgh pride, or thrugh thy grete rekelnesse,
 Swich thing as in the lawe of love forbode is,
 That, for thy lady sawgh nat thy distresse,
 Therfore thow yave hir up at Michelmesse?
20 Allas! Scogan, of olde folk ne yonge
 Was never erst Scogan blamed for his tonge.
 Thow drowe in skorn Cupide eke to record
 Of thilke rebel word that thow hast spoken,
 For which he wol no lenger be thy lord.
 And, Scogan, though his bowe be nat broken,
 He wol nat with his arwes been ywroken
 On the, ne me, ne noon of oure figure;
 We shul of him have neyther hurt ne cure.
 Now certes, frend, I dreed of thyn unhap,
30 Lest for thy gilt the wreche of Love procede
 On alle hem that ben hoor and rounde of shap,
 That ben so lykly folk in love to spede.
 Than shal we for oure labour have no mede;
 But wel I wot, thow wolt answere and saye,
 "Lo, olde Grisel lyst to ryme and playe!"
 Nay, Scogan, say not so, for I m' excuse --
 God helpe me so! -- in no rym, dowteles,
 Ne thynke I never of slep to wake my muse,
 That rusteth in my shethe stille in pees.
40 While I was yong, I put hir forth in prees;
 But al shal passe that men prose or ryme;
 Take every man hys turn, as for his tyme.
 Scogan, that knelest at the stremes hed
 Of grace, of alle honour and worthynesse,
 In th' ende of which strem I am dul as ded,
 Forgete in solytarie wildernesse --
 Yet, Scogan, thenke on Tullius kyndenesse;
 Mynne thy frend, there it may fructyfye!
 Far-wel, and loke thow never eft Love dyffye.

---

The Shorter Poems

Lenvoy de Chaucer a Bukton

 My maister Bukton, whan of Crist our kyng
 Was axed what is trouthe or sothfastnesse,
 He nat a word answerde to that axing,
 As who saith, "No man is al trewe," I gesse.
 And therfore, though I highte to expresse
 The sorwe and wo that is in mariage,
 I dar not writen of it no wikkednesse,
 Lest I myself falle eft in swich dotage.
 I wol nat seyn how that yt is the cheyne
10 Of Sathanas, on which he gnaweth evere,
 But I dar seyn, were he out of his peyne,
 As by his wille he wolde be bounde nevere.
 But thilke doted fool that eft hath levere
 Ycheyned be than out of prison crepe,
 God lete him never fro his wo dissevere,
 Ne no man him bewayle, though he wepe.
 But yet, lest thow do worse, take a wyf;
 Bet ys to wedde than brenne in worse wise.
 But thow shal have sorwe on thy flessh, thy lyf,
20 And ben thy wives thral, as seyn these wise;
 And yf that hooly writ may nat suffyse,
 Experience shal the teche, so may happe,
 That the were lever to be take in Frise
 Than eft to falle of weddynge in the trappe.
 This lytel writ, proverbes, or figure
 I sende yow; take kepe of yt, I rede;
 Unwys is he that kan no wele endure.
 If thow be siker, put the nat in drede.
 The Wyf of Bathe I pray yow that ye rede
30 Of this matere that we have on honde.
 God graunte yow your lyf frely to lede
 In fredam, for ful hard is to be bonde.

---

The Shorter Poems

The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse

 To yow, my purse, and to noon other wight
 Complayne I, for ye be my lady dere.
 I am so sory, now that ye been lyght;
 For certes but yf ye make me hevy chere,
 Me were as leef be layd upon my bere;
 For which unto your mercy thus I crye,
 Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye.
 Now voucheth sauf this day or hyt be nyght
 That I of yow the blisful soun may here
10 Or see your colour lyk the sonne bryght
 That of yelownesse hadde never pere.
 Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere.
 Quene of comfort and of good companye,
 Beth hevy ageyn, or elles moot I dye.
 Now purse that ben to me my lyves lyght
 And saveour as doun in this world here,
 Out of this toune helpe me thurgh your myght,
 Syn that ye wole nat ben my tresorere;
 For I am shave as nye as any frere.
20 But yet I pray unto your curtesye,
 Beth hevy agen, or elles moot I dye.
 O conquerour of Brutes Albyon,
 Which that by lyne and free eleccion
 Been verray kyng, this song to yow I sende,
 And ye, that mowen alle oure harmes amende,
 Have mynde upon my supplicacion.

---

The Shorter Poems

Proverbs

 What shul these clothes thus manyfold,
 Lo this hote somers day?
 After grete hete cometh cold;
 No man caste his pilche away.
 Of al this world the large compas
 Yt wil not in myn armes tweyne;
 Who so mochel wol embrace,
 Litel therof he shal distreyne.

---

The Shorter Poems

Against Women Unconstant

 Madame, for your newefangelnesse
 Many a servaunt have ye put out of grace.
 I take my leve of your unstedfastnesse,
 For wel I wot, whyl ye have lyves space,
 Ye can not love ful half yeer in a place,
 To newe thing your lust is ay so kene.
 In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.
 Right as a mirour nothing may impresse,
 But, lightly as it cometh, so mot it pace,
10 So fareth your love, your werkes beren witnesse.
 Ther is no feith that may your herte enbrace,
 But as a wedercok, that turneth his face
 With every wind, ye fare, and that is sene;
 In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.
 Ye might be shryned for your brotelnesse
 Bet than Dalyda, Creseyde or Candace,
 For ever in chaunging stant your sikernesse;
 That tache may no wight fro your herte arace.
 If ye lese oon, ye can wel tweyn purchace;
20 Al light for somer (ye woot wel what I mene),
 In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.

---

The Shorter Poems

Complaynt D'Amours

 I, which that am the sorwefulleste man
 That in this world was ever yit livinge,
 And leest recoverer of himselven can,
 Beginne right thus my deedly compleininge
 On hir that may to lyf and deeth me bringe,
 Which hath on me no mercy ne no rewthe,
 That love hir best, but sleeth me for my trewthe.
 Can I noght doon ne seye that may yow lyke?
 Ne, certes now; allas, allas the whyle!
10 Your plesaunce is to laughen whan I syke,
 And thus ye me from al my blisse exyle.
 Ye han me cast in thilke spitous yle
 Ther never man on lyve mighte asterte;
 This have I, for I love you, swete herte!
 Sooth is, that wel I woot, by lyklinesse,
 If that it were a thing possible to do
 For to acompte youre beautee and goodnesse,
 I have no wonder thogh ye do me wo;
 Sith I, th' unworthiest that may ryde or go,
20 Durste ever thinken in so hy a place.
 What wonder is, thogh ye do me no grace?
 Allas, thus is my lyf brought to an ende;
 My deeth, I see, is my conclusioun.
 I may wel singe, "In sory tyme I spende
 My lyf." That song may have confusioun.
 For mercy, pitee, and deep affeccioun,
 I sey for me, for al my deedly chere,
 Alle thise diden, in that, me love yow dere.
 And in this wyse and in dispayr I live
30 In love -- nay, but in dispayr I dye!
 But shal I thus yow my deeth foryive,
 That causeles doth me this sorwe drye?
 Ye, certes, I! For she of my folye
 Hath nought to done although she do me sterve,
 Hit is nat with hir wil that I hir serve.
 Than sithen I am of my sorwe the cause
 And sithen I have this withoute hir reed,
 Than may I seyn right shortly in a clause,
 It is no blame unto hir womanheed
40 Though swich a wrecche as I be for hir deed.
 Yet alwey two thinges doon me dye,
 That is to seyn, hir beautee and myn ye';
 So that, algates, she is verray rote
 Of my disese and of my deth also,
 For with oon word she mighte be my bote,
 If that she vouched sauf for to do so.
 But than is hir gladnesse at my wo?
 It is hir wone plesaunce for to take
 To seen hir servaunts dyen for hir sake.
50 But certes, than is al my wonderinge,
 Sithen she is the fayrest creature,
 As to my doom, that ever was livinge,
 The benignest and beste eek that Nature
 Hath wrought or shal, whyl that the world may dure,
 Why that she lefte Pite so behinde?
 It was, ywis, a greet defaute in Kinde.
 Yit is al this no lak to hir, pardee,
 But God or Nature sore wolde I blame.
 For though she shewe no pite unto me,
60 Sithen that she doth othere men the same,
 I ne oughte to despyse my ladyes game;
 It is hir pley to laughen whan men syketh,
 And I assente al that hir list and lyketh.
 Yet wolde I, as I dar, with sorwful herte
 Biseche unto your meke womanhede
 That I now dorste my sharpe sorwes smerte
 Shewe by word, that ye wolde ones rede
 The compleynte of me, which ful sore I drede
 That I have seid here, through myn unkonninge,
70 In any word to your displesinge.
 Lothest of anything that ever was loth
 Were me, as wisly God my soule save,
 To seyn a thing through which ye might be wroth;
 And, to that day that I be leyd in grave,
 A trewer servaunt shulle ye never have;
 And, though that I have pleyned unto you here,
 Foryiveth it me, myn owne lady dere.
 Ever have I been, and shal, how-so I wende,
 Outher to live or dye, your humble trewe.
80 Ye been to me my ginning and myn ende,
 Sonne of the sterre bright and clere of hewe;
 Alwey in oon to love yow freshly newe,
 By God and by my trouthe, is myn entente;
 To live or dye, I wol it never repente!
 This compleynte on Seint Valentynes day,
 Whan every foughel chesen shal his make,
 To hir, whos I am hool and shal alwey,
 This woful song and this compleynte I make,
 That never yit wolde me to mercy take;
90 And yit wol I evermore her serve
 And love hir best, although she do me sterve.

---

The Shorter Poems

Merciles Beaute

 Your yen two wol slee me sodenly;
 I may the beautee of hem not sustene,
 So woundeth hit thourghout my herte kene.
 And but your word wol helen hastily
 My hertes wounde while that hit is grene,
 Your yen [two wol slee me sodenly];
 [I may the beautee of hem not sustene].
 Upon my trouthe I sey you feithfully
 That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the quene,
10 For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene.
 Your yen [two wol slee me sodenly];
 [I may the beautee of hem not sustene],
 [So woundeth it thourghout my herte kene].
 So hath your beautee fro your herte chaced
 Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne,
 For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.
 Giltles my deeth thus han ye me purchaced;
 I sey you sooth, me nedeth not to feyne;
 So hath your beautee [fro your herte chaced]
20 [Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne].
 Allas, that Nature hath in you compassed
 So greet beautee, that no man may atteyne
 To mercy though he sterve for the peyne.
 So hath your beautee [fro your herte chaced]
 [Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne],
 [For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne].
 Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,
 I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;
 Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.
30 He may answere and seye this and that;
 I do no fors, I speke right as I mene.
 Sin I fro Love [escaped am so fat],
 [I never thenk to ben in his prison lene].
 Love hath my name ystrike out of his sclat,
 And he is strike out of my bokes clene
 For evermo; [ther] is non other mene.
 Sin I fro Love [escaped am so fat],
 [I never thenk to ben in his prison lene];
 [Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene].

---

The Shorter Poems

A Balade of Complaint

 Compleyne ne koude, ne might myn herte never,
 My peynes halve, ne what torment I have,
 Though that I sholde in your presence ben ever,
 Myn hertes lady, as wisly he me save
 That Bountee made, and Beautee list to grave
 In your persone, and bad hem bothe in-fere
 Ever t' awayte, and ay be wher ye were.
 As wisly he gye alle my joyes here
 As I am youres, and to yow sad and trewe,
10 And ye, my lyf and cause of my gode chere,
 And deeth also, whan ye my peynes newe,
 My worldes joye, whom I wol serve and sewe,
 Myn heven hool, and al my suffisaunce,
 Whom for to serve is set al my plesaunce.
 Beseching yow in my most humble wyse
 T' accepte in worth this litel pore dyte,
 And for my trouthe my servyce not despyse,
 Myn observaunce eke have not in despyte,
 Ne yit to longe to suffren in this plyte;
20 I yow beseche, myn hertes lady, here,
 Sith I yow serve, and so wil yeer by yere.

---

A Treatise on the Astrolabe

Part 1

 Lyte Lowys my sone, I aperceyve wel by certeyne
 evydences thyn abilite to lerne sciences
 touching nombres and proporciouns; and as wel
 considre I thy besy praier in special to lerne the
 tretys of the Astrelabie. Than for as moche as a
 philosofre saith, "he wrappith him in his frend,
 that condescendith to the rightfulle praiers of his
 frend," therfore have I yeven the a suffisant Astrolabie
 as for oure orizonte, compowned
10 after the latitude of Oxenforde; upon
 which, by mediacioun of this litel tretys, I
 purpose to teche the a certein nombre of conclusions
 aperteynyng to the same instrument. I
 seie a certein of conclusions, for thre causes. The
 first cause is this: truste wel that alle the conclusions
 that han be founde, or ellys possibly
 might be founde in so noble an instrument as is
 an Astrelabie ben unknowe parfitly to eny mortal
 man in this regioun, as I suppose. Another
20 cause is this, that sothly in any tretis of the
 Astrelabie that I have seyn, there be somme
 conclusions that wol not in alle thinges parformen
 her bihestes; and somme of hem ben to
 harde to thy tendir age of ten yeer to conceyve.
 This tretis, divided in 5 parties, wol I shewe
 the under full light reules and naked wordes in
 Englissh, for Latyn canst thou yit but small,
 my litel sone. But natheles suffise to the these
 trewe conclusions in Englissh as wel as sufficith
30 to these noble clerkes Grekes these
 same conclusions in Grek; and to Arabiens
 in Arabik, and to Jewes in Ebrew, and to
 Latyn folk in Latyn; whiche Latyn folk had
 hem first out of othere dyverse langages, and
 writen hem in her owne tunge, that is to seyn,
 in Latyn. And God woot that in alle these
 langages and in many moo han these conclusions
 ben suffisantly lerned and taught, and yit
 by diverse reules; right as diverse pathes
40 leden diverse folk the righte way to Rome.
 Now wol I preie mekely every discret persone
 that redith or herith this litel tretys to have
 my rude endityng for excusid, and my superfluite
 of wordes, for two causes. The firste cause
 is for that curious endityng and hard sentence
 is ful hevy at onys for such a child to lerne.
 And the secunde cause is this, that sothly me
 semith better to writen unto a child twyes a
 god sentence, than he forgete it onys.
50 And Lowys, yf so be that I shewe the in
 my lighte Englissh as trewe conclusions
 touching this mater, and not oonly as trewe
 but as many and as subtile conclusiouns, as
 ben shewid in Latyn in eny commune tretys
 of the Astrelabie, konne me the more thank.
 And preie God save the king, that is lord of
 this langage, and alle that him feith berith and
 obeieth, everich in his degre, the more and
 the lasse. But considre wel that I ne usurpe
60 not to have founden this werk of my labour
 or of myn engyn. I n' am but a lewd compilator
 of the labour of olde astrologiens, and have it
 translatid in myn Englissh oonly for thy doctrine.
 And with this swerd shal I sleen envie.
 Prima pars. -- The firste partie of this tretys
 shal reherse the figures and the membres of
 thyn Astrelabie by cause that thou shalt have
 the gretter knowing of thyn oune instrument.
 Secunda pars. -- The secunde partie
70 shal techen the worken the verrey practik
 of the forseide conclusiouns, as ferforth and
 as narwe as may be shewed in so small an
 instrument portatif aboute. For wel woot
 every astrologien that smallist fraccions ne
 wol not be shewid in so small an instrument as
 in subtile tables calculed for a cause.
 Tertia pars. -- The thirde partie shal contene
 diverse tables of longitudes and latitudes
 of sterres fixe for the Astrelabie, and tables
80 of the declinacions of the sonne, and tables
 of longitudes of citees and townes; and
 tables as well for the governaunce of a clokke, as
 for to fynde the altitude meridian; and many anothir
 notable conclusioun after the kalenders
 of the reverent clerkes, Frere J. Somer and
 Frere N. Lenne.
 Quarta pars. -- The fourthe partie shal ben
 a theorike to declare the moevyng of the celestiall
 bodies with the causes. The whiche
90 fourthe partie in speciall shal shewen a
 table of the verrey moeving of the mone
 from houre to houre every day and in every
 signe after thyn almenak. Upon which table
 there folewith a canoun suffisant to teche as
 wel the manere of the worchynge of the same
 conclusioun as to knowe in oure orizonte with
 which degre of the zodiak that the mone arisith
 in any latitude, and the arisyng of any planete
 after his latitude fro the ecliptik lyne.
100 Quinta pars. -- The fifthe partie shal
 be an introductorie, after the statutes of
 oure doctours, in which thou maist lerne a gret
 part of the generall rewles of theorik in astrologie.
 In which fifthe partie shalt thou fynden
 tables of equaciouns of houses after the latitude of
 Oxenforde; and tables of dignitees of planetes,
 and othere notefull thinges, yf God wol vouche
 saaf and his Moder the Maide, moo then I behete.
 Thyn Astrolabie hath a ring to putten on
 the thombe of thi right hond in taking the
 height of thinges. And tak kep, for from henes
 forthward I wol clepen the heighte of any thing
 that is taken by the rewle "the altitude," withoute
 moo wordes.
 This ryng renneth in a maner toret fast
 to the moder of thyn Astrelabie in so rowme a
 space that it distourbith not the instrument to
 hangen after his right centre.
 The moder of thin Astrelabye is thikkest
 plate, perced with a large hool, that resceiveth
in hir wombe the thynne plates compowned
 for diverse clymates, and thy reet shapen in
 manere of a nett or of a web of a loppe.
 This moder is dividid on the bakhalf with
 a lyne that cometh descending fro the ring
 doun to the netherist bordure. The whiche
 lyne, fro the forseide ring unto the centre of
 the large hool amidde, is clepid the south lyne,
 or ellis the lyne meridional. And the remenaunt
 of this lyne doun to the bordure is
 clepid the north lyne, or ellis the lyne of midnyght.
 Overthwart this forseide longe lyne ther
 crossith him another lyne of the same lengthe
 from eest to west. Of the whiche lyne, from
 a litel cros (+) in the bordure unto the centre
 of the large hool, is clepid the est lyne, or
 ellis the lyne orientale. And the remenaunt of
 this lyne, fro the forseide centre unto the bordure,
 is clepid the west lyne, or ellis the lyne
 occidentale. Now hast thou here the foure
10 quarters of thin Astrolabie divided after the
 foure principales plages or quarters of the firmament.
 The est syde of thyn Astrolabie is clepid
 the right syde, and the west syde is clepid the
 left syde. Forget not thys, litel Lowys. Put
 the ryng of thyn Astrolabie upon the thombe
 of thi right hond, and than wol his right side
 be toward thi lift side, and his left side wol be
 toward thy right side. Tak this rewle generall,
 as wel on the bak as on the wombe syde. Upon
 the ende of this est lyne, as I first seide, is
10 marked a litel cros (+), where as evere
 moo generaly is considerid the entring of
 the first degre in which the sonne arisith.
 Fro this litel cros (+) up to the ende
 of the lyne meridionall, under the ryng, shalt
 thou fynden the bordure divided with 90 degrees;
 and by that same proporcioun is every
 quarter of thin Astrolabie divided. Over the
 whiche degrees there ben noumbres of augrym
 that dividen thilke same degres fro 5 to 5, as
 shewith by longe strikes bitwene. Of whiche
 longe strikes the space bitwene contenith
10 a myle wey, and every degre of the bordure
 conteneth 4 minutes; this is to seien,
 mynutes of an houre.
 Under the compas of thilke degrees ben
 writen the names of the 12 Signes: as
 Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo,
 Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricornus, Aquarius,
 Piscis. And the nombres of the degrees of
 thoo signes be writen in augrym above, and
 with longe divisiouns fro 5 to 5, dyvidid fro
 the tyme that the signe entrith unto the last
 ende. But understond wel that these degres
10 of signes ben everich of hem considred
 of 60 mynutes, and every mynute of
 60 secundes, and so furth into smale fraccions
 infinite, as saith Alkabucius. And therfore
 knowe wel that a degre of the bordure contenith
 4 minutes, and a degre of a signe conteneth
 60 minutes, and have this in mynde.
 Next this folewith the cercle of the daies,
 that ben figured in manere of degres, that contenen
 in nombre 365, dividid also with longe
 strikes fro 5 to 5, and the nombre in augrym
 writen under that cercle.
 Next the cercle of the daies folewith the
 cercle of the names of the monthes, that is to
 say, Januarius, Februarius, Marcius, Aprilis,
 Maius, Junius, Julius, Augustus, September,
 October, November, December. The names
 of these monthes were clepid somme for
 her propirtees and somme by statutes of
 Arabiens, somme by othre lordes of Rome.
 Eke of these monthes, as liked to Julius
10 Cesar and to Cesar Augustus, somme were
 compouned of diverse nombres of daies, as
 Julie and August. Than hath Januarie 31 daies,
 Februarie 28, March 31, Aprill 30, May 31,
 Junius 30, Julius 31, Augustus 31, Septembre
 30, Octobre 31, Novembre 30, Decembre 31.
 Natheles, all though that Julius Cesar toke 2
 daies out of Feverer and putte hem in his
 month of Juyll, and Augustus Cesar clepid the
 month of August after his name and ordeined
20 it of 31 daies, yit truste wel that the
 sonne dwellith therfore nevere the more
 ne lasse in oon signe than in another.
 Than folewen the names of the holy
 daies in the Kalender, and next hem the lettres
 of the A B C on whiche thei fallen.
 Next the forseide cercle of the A B C,
 under the cross lyne, is marked the skale in
 manere of 2 squyres, or ellis in manere of laddres,
 that serveth by his 12 pointes and his
 dyvisiouns of ful many a subtil conclusioun.
 Of this forseide skale fro the cross lyne unto
 the verrey angle is clepid Umbra Versa, and
 the nethir partie is clepid Umbra Recta, or
 ellis Umbra Extensa.
 Than hast thou a brod reule, that hath
 on either ende a square plate perced with certein
 holes, somme more and somme lasse, to
 resceyve the stremes of the sonne by day, and
 eke by mediacioun of thin eye to knowe the
 altitude of sterres by night.
 Than is there a large pyn in manere of
 an extre, that goth thorugh the hole that halt
 the tables of the clymates and the riet in the
 wombe of the moder; thorugh which pyn ther
 goth a litel wegge, which that is clepid the
 hors, that streynith all these parties to-hepe.
 Thys forseide grete pyn in manere of an extre
 is ymagyned to be the Pool Artik in thyn
 Astralabie.
 The wombe syde of thyn Astrelabie is
 also divided with a longe cros in 4 quarters
 from est to west, fro southe to northe, fro
 right syde to left side, as is the bakside.
 The bordure of which wombe side is
 divided fro the point of the est lyne unto the
 point of the south lyne under the ring, in 90
 degrees; and by that same proporcioun is every
 quarter divided, as is the bakside. That
 amountith 360 degrees. And understond wel
 that degres of this bordure ben aunswering and
 consentrike to the degrees of the equinoxiall,
 that is dividid in the same nombre as every
10 othir cercle is in the highe hevene. This
 same bordure is divided also with 23
 lettres capitals and a small cross (+) above
 the south lyne, that shewith the 24 houres
 equals of the clokke. And, as I have seid, 5
 of these degres maken a myle wey, and 3 mile-wei
 maken an houre. And every degre of thys
 bordure contenith 4 minutes, and every minute
 60 secundes. Now have I told the twyes.
 The plate under the riet is discrived
 with 3 cercles, of whiche the leest is
 clepid the cercle of Cancre by cause that the
 heved of Cancre turnith evermo consentrik
 upon the same cercle. In this heved
 of Cancer is the grettist declinacioun northward
 of the sonne, and therfore is he clepid
 solsticium of somer; which declinacioun, after
 Ptholome, is 23 degrees and 50 minutes as
10 wel in Cancer as in Capricorn. This signe
 of Cancer is clepid the tropik of somer, of
 tropos, that is to seien "ageynward." For than
 beginneth the sonne to passen from us-ward.
 The myddel cercle in wydnesse, of these 3,
 is clepid the cercle equinoxiall, upon which
 turnith evermo the hevedes of Aries and Libra.
 And understond wel that evermo thys cercle
 equinoxiall turnith justly from verrey est to verrey
 west as I have shewed the in the speer
20 solide. This same cercle is clepid also
 Equator, that is the weyer of the day; for
 whan the sonne is in the hevedes of Aries and
 Libra, than ben the dayes and the nightes ylike
 of lengthe in all the world. And therfore ben
 these 2 signes called the equinoxiis. And all
 that moeveth withinne the hevedes of these
 Aries and Libra, his moevyng is clepid northward;
 and all that moevith withoute these
 hevedes, his moevyng is clepid southward,
30 as fro the equinoxiall. Tak kep of these
 latitudes north and south, and forget it nat.
 By this cercle equinoxiall ben considred the
 24 houres of the clokke; for evermo the arisyng
 of 15 degrees of the equinoxiall makith an
 houre equal of the clokke. This equinoxiall is
 clepid the gurdel of the first moeving, or ellis
 of the firste moevable. And note that the firste
 moevyng is clepid moevyng of the firste moevable
 of the 8 speer, which moeving is from
40 est to west, and eft ageyn into est. Also
 it is clepid girdel of the firste moeving for it
 departith the firste moevable, that is to seyn
 the spere, in two like partyes evene distantz
 fro the poles of this world.
 The widest of these 3 principale cercles is
 clepid the cercle of Capricorne, by cause that
 the heved of Capricorne turneth evermo consentrik
 upon the same cercle. In the heved of
 this forseide Capricorne is the grettist declinacioun
50 southward of the sonne, and therfore
 it is clepid the solsticium of wynter.
 This signe of Capricorne is also clepid the
 tropic of wynter, for than begynneth the sonne
 to come ageyn to us-ward.
 Upon this forseide plate ben compassed
 certeyn cercles that highten almycanteras, of
 whiche somme of hem semen parfit cercles and
 somme semen inparfit. The centre that stondith
 amyddes the narwest cercle is clepid the
 cenyth. And the netherist cercle, or the firste
 cercle, is clepid the orizonte, that is to seyn,
 the cercle that divideth the two emysperies,
 that is, the partie of the hevene above the
10 erthe and the partie bynethe. These almykanteras
 ben compowned by 2 and 2, all
 be it so that on diverse Astrelabies somme
 almykanteras ben divided by oon, and somme
 by two, and somme by thre, after the quantite
 of the Astrelabie. This forseide cenyth is
 ymagined to ben the verrey point over the
 crowne of thin heved. And also this cenyth
 is the verray pool of the orizonte in every regioun.
 From this cenyth, as it semeth, there
 comen a maner croked strikes like to the clawes
 of a loppe, or elles like the werk of a wommans
 calle, in kervyng overthwart the almykanteras.
 And these same strikes or divisiouns
 ben clepid azimutz, and thei dividen the orisounte
 of thin Astrelabie in 24 divisiouns. And
 these azymutz serven to knowe the costes of
 the firmament, and to othre conclusions, as
10 for to knowe the cenyth of the sonne and
 of every sterre.
 Next these azymutz, under the cercle
 of Cancer, ben there 12 divisiouns embelif,
 muche like to the shap of the azemutz, that
 shewen the spaces of the houres of planetes.
 The riet of thin Astrelabie with thy zodiak,
 shapen in manere of a net or of a lopweb
 after the olde descripcioun, which thou maist
 turnen up and doun as thiself liketh, contenith
 certein nombre of sterres fixes, with her longitudes
 and latitudes determinat, yf so be that the
 maker have not errid. The names of the sterres
 ben writen in the margyn of the riet there as thei
 sitte, of whiche sterres the smale point is
10 clepid the centre. And understond also that
 alle the sterres sitting within the zodiak of
 thin Astrelabie ben clepid sterres of the north,
 for thei arise by northe the est lyne. And all the
 remenaunt fixed oute of the zodiak ben clepid
 sterres of the south. But I seie not that thei arisen
 alle by southe the est lyne; witnesse on Aldeberan
 and Algomeysa. Generaly understond this
 rewle, that thilke sterres that ben clepid sterres
 of the north arisen rather than the degre of
20 her longitude, and alle the sterres of the
 south arisen after the degre of her longitude --
 this is to seyn, sterres fixed in thyn
 Astrelabie. The mesure of this longitude of
 sterres is taken in the lyne ecliptik of hevene,
 under which lyne, whan that the sonne and the
 mone be lyne-right, or ellis in the superficie of
 this lyne, than is the eclipse of the sonne or of
 the mone, as I shal declare, and eke the cause
 why. But sothly the ecliptik lyne of thy
30 zodiak is the utterist bordure of thy zodiak
 there the degrees be marked.
 Thy zodiak of thin Astrelabie is shapen as
 a compas which that contenith a large brede
 as after the quantite of thyn Astrelabie, in ensample
 that the zodiak in hevene is ymagyned
 to ben a superfice contenyng a latitude of 12
 degrees, whereas alle the remenaunt of cercles
 in the hevene ben ymagyned verrey lynes withoute
 eny latitude. Amiddes this celestial
40 zodiak is ymagined a lyne which that is
 clepid the ecliptik lyne, under which lyne
 is evermo the wey of the sonne. Thus ben
 there 6 degres of the zodiak on that oo syde
 of the lyne and 6 degrees on that othir. This
 zodiak is dividid in 12 principale divisiouns that
 departen the 12 signes, and, for the streitnesse
 of thin Astrolabie, than is every smal divisioun
 in a signe departed by two degrees and two, I
 mene degrees contenyng 60 mynutes. And
50 this forseide hevenysshe zodiak is clepid
 the cercle of the signes, or the cercle of the
 bestes, for "zodia" in langage of Grek sowneth
 "bestes" in Latyn tunge. And in the zodiak
 ben the 12 signes that han names of bestes,
 or ellis for whan the sonne entrith in eny
 of tho signes he takith the propirte of suche
 bestes, or ellis for that the sterres that ben
 ther fixed ben disposid in signes of bestes or
 shape like bestes, or elles whan the planetes
60 ben under thilke signes thei causen us by
 her influence operaciouns and effectes like
 to the operaciouns of bestes.
 And understond also that whan an hot planete
 cometh into an hot signe, than encrescith
 his hete; and yf a planete be cold, than amenusith
 his coldnesse by cause of the hoote sygne.
 And by thys conclusioun maist thou take ensample
 in alle the signes, be thei moist or drie,
 or moeble or fixe, reknyng the qualite of the
70 planete as I first seide. And everich of
 these 12 signes hath respect to a certeyn
 parcel of the body of a man, and hath it in
 governaunce; as Aries hath thin heved, and
 Taurus thy nekke and thy throte, Gemini thin
 armholes and thin armes, and so furth, as shall
 be shewid more pleyn in the 5 partie of this
 tretis.
 This zodiak, which that is part of the 8 speer,
 over-kervith the equinoxial, and he over-kervith
80 him ageyn in evene parties; and
 that oo half declineth southward; and that
 othir northward, as pleinly declarith the Tretys
 of the Speer.
 Than hast thou a label that is shapen like
 a reule, save that it is streit and hath no plates
 on either ende with holes. But with the smale
 point of the forseide label shalt thou calcule
 thin equaciouns in the bordure of thin Astralabie,
 as by thin almury.
90 Thin almury is clepid the denticle of
 Capricorne, or ellis the calculer. This same
 almury sitt fix in the heved of Capricorne, and
 it serveth of many a necessarie conclusioun in
 equacions of thinges as shal be shewid.

---

A Treatise on the Astrolabe

Part 2

Rub To fynde the degre in which the sonne is
RubA day by day, after his cours aboute.
 Rekne and knowe which is the day of thy
 month, and ley thy rewle upon that same day,
 and than wol the verrey poynt of thy rewle
 sitten in the bordure upon the degre of thy
 sonne.
 Ensample as thus: The yeer of oure Lord
 1391, the 12 day of March at midday, I wolde
 knowe the degre of the sonne. I soughte in
 the bakhalf of myn Astrelabie and fond the
10 cercle of the daies, the whiche I knowe by
 the names of the monthes writen under the
 same cercle. Tho leyde I my reule over this
 foreseide day, and fond the point of my reule
 in the bordure upon the firste degre of Aries,
 a litel within the degre. And thus knowe I this
 conclusioun.
 Anothir day I wolde knowen the degre of
 my sonne, and this was at midday in the 13
 day of Decembre. I fond the day of the
20 month in manere as I seide; tho leide I my
 rewle upon this forseide 13 day, and fond
 the point of my rewle in the bordure upon
 the firste degre of Capricorne a lite within the
 degre. And than had I of this conclusioun the
 ful experience.
Rub To knowe the altitude of the sonne or of
RubA othre celestial bodies.
 Put the ryng of thyn Astrelabie upon thy
 right thombe, and turne thi lift syde ageyn
 the light of the sonne; and remewe thy rewle
 up and doun til that the stremes of the sonne
 shine thorugh bothe holes of thi rewle. Loke
 than how many degrees thy rule is areised fro
 the litel cros upon thin est lyne, and tak there
 the altitude of thi sonne. And in this same
 wise maist thow knowe by night the altitude
10 of the mone or of brighte sterres.
 This chapitre is so generall evere in oon
 that there nedith no more declaracioun; but
 forget it not.
Rub To knowe every tyme of the day by light
RubA of the sonne; and every tyme of the nyght by
RubB the sterres fixe; and eke to knowe by nyght or
RubC by day the degre of eny signe that ascendith on
RubD the est orisonte, which that is clepid comounly
RubE the ascendent, or ellis horoscopum.
 Tak the altitude of the sonne whan the list,
 as I have seid, and set the degre of the sonne,
 in caas that it be beforn the myddel of the day,
 among thyn almykanteras on the est syde of
 thin Astrelabie; and if it be after the myddel
 of the day, set the degre of thy sonne upon the
 west syde. Tak this manere of settyng for a
 general rule, ones for evere. And whan thou
 hast set the degre of thy sonne upon as
10 many almykanteras of height as was the altitude
 of the sonne taken by thy rule, ley
 over thi label upon the degre of the sonne; and
 than wol the point of thi labell sitte in the
 bordure upon the verrey tyde of the day.
 Ensample as thus: The yeer of oure lord
 1391, the 12 day of March, I wolde knowe the
 tyde of the day. I tok the altitude of my sonne,
 and fond that it was 25 degrees and 30 minutes
 of height in the bordure on the bak
20 side. Tho turned I myn Astrelabye, and by
 cause that it was before mydday, I turned
 my riet and sette the degre of the sonne, that
 is to seyn the firste degre of Aries, on the right
 side of myn Astrelabye upon 25 degrees and
 30 mynutes of height among myn almykanteras.
 Tho leide I my label upon the degre of my
 sonne, and fond the point of my label in the
 bordure upon a capital lettre that is clepid
 an X. Tho rekned I alle the capitale lettres
30 fro the lyne of mydnight unto this forseide
 lettre X, and fond that it was 9 of the
 clokke of the day. Tho loked I doun upon myn
 est orizonte, and fond there the 20 degre of
 Geminis ascendyng, which that I tok for myn
 ascendent. And in this wise had I the experience
 for evermo in which manere I shulde
 knowe the tyde of the day and eke myn ascendent.
 Tho wolde I wite the same nyght folewyng
40 the houre of the nyght, and wroughte
 in this wise: Among an heep of sterres
 fixe it liked me for to take the altitude of the
 faire white sterre that is clepid Alhabor, and
 fond hir sittyng on the west side of the lyne
 of midday, 12 degrees of heighte taken by my
 rewle on the bak side. Tho sette I the centre
 of this Alhabor upon 12 degrees among myn
 almykanteras upon the west side, by cause that
 she was founde on the west side. Tho
50 leyde I my label over the degre of the
 sonne, that was discendid under the west
 orisounte, and rekned all the lettres capitals
 fro the lyne of midday unto the point of my
 label in the bordure, and fond that it was
 passed 9 of the clokke the space of 10 degrees.
 Tho lokid I doun upon myn est orisounte, and
 fond there 10 degrees of Scorpius ascendyng,
 whom I tok for myn ascendent. And thus
 lerned I to knowe onys for ever in which
60 manere I shuld come to the houre of the
 nyght, and to myn ascendent, as verrely as
 may be taken by so smal an instrument.
 But natheles this rule in generall wol I warne
 the for evere: Ne make the nevere bold to
 have take a just ascendent by thin Astrelabie,
 or elles to have set justly a clokke, whan eny
 celestial body by which that thou wenyst governe
 thilke thinges be nigh the south lyne.
 For trust wel, whan the sonne is nygh the
70 meridional lyne, the degre of the sonne
 renneth so longe consentrik upon the almykanteras
 that sothly thou shalt erre fro the
 just ascendent. The same conclusioun sey I by
 the centre of eny sterre fix by nyght. And
 more over, by experience I wot wel that in
 oure orisounte, from xi of the clokke unto oon
 of the clokke, in taking of a just ascendent in
 a portatif Astrelabie it is to hard to knowe --
 I mene from xi of the clokke before the
80 houre of noon til oon of the clokke next
 folewyng.
Rub A special declaracioun of the ascendent.
 The ascendent sothly, as wel in alle nativites
 as in questions and eleccions of tymes, is a
 thing which that these astrologiens gretly observen.
 Wherfore me semeth convenyent, syth
 that I speke of the ascendent, to make of it
 speciall declaracioun.
 The ascendent sothly, to take it at the largest,
 is thilke degre that ascendith at eny of
 these forseide tymes upon the est orisounte.
10 And therfore, yf that eny planete ascende
 at thatt same tyme in thilke forseide degre,
 than hath he no latitude fro the ecliptik lyne,
 but he is than in the degre of the ecliptik
 which that is the degre of his longitude. Men
 sayn that thilke planete is in horoscopo.
 But sothly the hous of the ascendent, that
 is to seyn, the first hous or the est angle, is a
 thing more brod and large. For, after the statutes
 of astrologiens, what celestial body
20 that is 5 degrees above thilke degre that
 ascendith, or withinne that nombre, that is
 to seyn neer the degree that ascendith, yit
 rekne they thilke planete in the ascendent.
 And what planete that is under thilke degre
 that ascendith the space of 25 degres, yit seyn
 thei that thilke planete is "like to him that is
 the hous of the ascendent." But sothly, if he
 passe the boundes of these forseide spaces,
 above or bynethe, thei seyn that the planete
30 is "fallyng fro the ascendent." Yit saien
 these astrologiens that the ascendent and
 eke the lord of the ascendent may be shapen
 for to be fortunat or infortunat, as thus: A
 "fortunat ascendent" clepen they whan that no
 wicked planete, as Saturne or Mars or elles
 the Tayl of the Dragoun, is in the hous of the
 ascendent, ne that no wicked planete have
 noon aspect of enemyte upon the ascendent.
 But thei wol caste that thei have a fortunat
40 planete in hir ascendent, and yit in his felicite;
 and than sey thei that it is wel.
 Further over thei seyn that the infortunyng of
 an ascendent is the contrarie of these forseide
 thinges. The lord of the ascendent, sey thei
 that he is fortunat whan he is in god place
 fro the ascendent, as in an angle, or in a succident
 where as he is in hys dignite and comfortid
 with frendly aspectes of planetes and
 wel resceyved; and eke that he may seen
50 the ascendent; and that he be not retrograd,
 ne combust, ne joyned with no
 shrewe in the same signe; ne that he be not
 in his discencioun, ne joyned with no planete
 in his descencioun, ne have upon him noon
 aspect infortunat; and than sey thei that he is
 well.
 Natheles these ben observaunces of judicial
 matere and rytes of payens, in whiche my
 spirit hath no feith, ne knowing of her
60 horoscopum. For they seyn that every
 signe is departid in thre evene parties by
 10 degrees, and thilke porcioun they clepe a
 face. And although that a planete have a latitude
 fro the ecliptik, yit sey somme folk, so
 that the planete arise in that same signe with
 eny degre of the forseide face in which his
 longitude is rekned, that yit is the planete
 in horoscopo, be it in nativyte or in eleccion,
 etc.
Rub To knowe the verrey equacioun of the
RubA degre of the sonne yf so be that it falle bitwene
RubC thyn almykanteras.
 For as muche as the almykanteras in thin
 Astrelabie ben compowned by two and two,
 where as somme almykanteras in sondry astrelabies
 be compowned by 1 and 1, or elles by 2
 and 2, it is necessarie to thy lernyng to teche
 the first to knowe and worke with thin oune
 instrument. Wherfore whan that the degre of
 thi sonne fallith bytwixe 2 almykanteras, or
 ellis yf thin almykanteras ben graven with
10 over-gret a poynt of a compas (for bothe
 these thinges may causen errour as wel in
 knowing of the tide of the day, as of the verrey
 ascendent), thou must worken in this
 wise:
 Set the degre of thy sonne upon the hyer
 almykanteras of bothe, and wayte wel where
 as thin almury touchith the bordure and set
 there a prikke of ynke. Sett doun agayn the
 degre of the sunne upon the nether almykanteras
20 of bothe, and sett there another
 pricke. Remeve than thin almury in
 the bordure evene amiddes bothe prickes, and
 this wol lede justly the degre of thi sonne to
 sitte bitwene bothe almykanteras in his right
 place. Ley than thy label over the degre of
 thi sonne, and fynd in the bordure the verrey
 tyde of the day, or of the night. And as verraily
 shalt thou fynde upon thin est orisonte
 thin ascendent.
Rub To knowe the spryng of the dawenyng
RubA and the ende of the evenyng, the whiche ben
RubB called the two crepuscules.
 Set the nadir of thy sonne upon 18 degrees
 of height among thyn almykanteras on the west
 syde; and ley thy label on the degre of thy
 sonne, and than shal the point of thy label
 shewen the spryng of the day. Also set the
 nader of thy sonne upon 18 degrees of height
 among thin almykanteras on the est side, and
 ley over thy label upon the degre of the sonne,
 and with the point of thy label fynd in the
10 bordure the ende of the evenyng, that is
 verrey nyght.
 The nader of the sonne is thilke degre that
 is opposyt to the degre of the sonne, in the
 7 signe, as thus: every degre of Aries by
 ordir is nadir to every degre of Libra by ordre,
 and Taurus to Scorpioun, Gemini to Sagittarie,
 Cancer to Capricorne, Leo to Aquarie, Virgo
 to Piscis. And if eny degre in thy zodiak be
 derk, his nadir shal declare hym.
Rub To knowe the arch of the day, that some
RubA folk callen the day artificiall, fro sonne arisyng
RubB tyl it go to reste.
 Set the degre of thi sonne upon thin est
 orisonte, and ley thy label on the degre of
 the sonne, and at the point of thy label in the
 bordure set a pricke. Turne than thy riet
 aboute tyl the degre of the sonne sitte upon
 the west orisonte, and ley thy label upon the
 same degre of the sonne, and at the poynt of
 thy label set another pricke. Rekne than
 the quantite of tyme in the bordure bitwixe
10 bothe prickes, and tak there thyn arch of
 the day. The remenaunt of the bordure
 under the orisonte is the arch of the nyght.
 Thus maist thou rekne bothe arches, or every
 porcioun, of whether that the liketh. And by
 this manere of worching maist thou se how
 longe that eny sterre fix dwelleth above the
 erthe, fro tyme that he riseth til he go to reste.
 But the day naturall, that is to seyn 24 hours,
 is the revolucioun of the equinoxial with as
20 muche partie of the zodiak as the sonne of
 his propre moeving passith in the mene
 while.
Rub To turne the houres inequales in houres
RubA equales.
 Know the nombre of the degrees in the
 houres inequales, and depart hem by 15, and
 tak there thin houres equales.
Rub To knowe the quantite of the day vulgar,
RubA that is to seyn fro spryng of the day unto
RubB verrey nyght.
 Know the quantite of thy crepuscles, as I
 have taught in the 3 chapitre bifore, and adde
 hem to the arch of thy day artificial, and tak
 there the space of all the hool day vulgar unto
 verrey night. The same manere maist thou
 worche to knowe the quantite of the vulgar
 nyght.
 
Rub To knowe the quantite of houres inequales
RubA by day.
 Understond wel that these houres inequales
 ben clepid houres of planetes. And understond
 wel that som tyme ben thei lenger by
 day than by night, and som tyme the contrarie.
 But understond wel that evermo generaly
 the houre inequal of the day with the
 houre inequal of the night contenen 30 degrees
 of the bordure, which bordure is evermo answeryng
 to the degrees of the equinoxial.
10 Wherfore departe the arch of the day artificial
 in 12, and tak there the quantite of
 the houre inequale by day. And if thou abate
 the quantite of the houre inequale by day out
 of 30, than shal the remenaunt that levith parforme
 the houre inequale by night.
Rub To knowe the quantite of houres
RubA equales.
 The quantite of houres equales, that is to
 seyn the houres of the clokke, ben departid by
 15 degrees alredy in the bordure of thin Astrelaby,
 as wel by night as by day, generaly for
 evere. What nedith more declaracioun?
 Wherfore whan the list to knowe hou many
 houres of the clokke ben passed, or eny part
 of eny of these houres that ben passed, or ellis
 how many houres or parties of houres ben
10 to come fro such a tyme to such a tyme by
 day or by night, know the degre of thy
 sonne, and ley thy label on it. Turne thy ryet
 aboute joyntly with thy label, and with the
 poynt of it rekne in the bordure fro the sonne
 arise unto that same place there thou desirist,
 by day as by nyght. This conclusioun wol I declare
 in the laste chapitre of the 4 partie of this
 tretys so openly that ther shal lakke no word
 that nedith to the declaracioun.
Rub Special declaracioun of the houres of
RubA planetes.
 Understond wel that evermo, fro the arisyng
 of the sonne til it go to reste, the nadir of
 the sonne shal shewe the houre of the planete;
 and fro that tyme forward al the night til the
 sonne arise, than shal the verrey degre of the
 sonne shewe the houre of the planete.
 Ensample as thus: The xiij day of March
 fyl upon a Saturday, peraventure, and atte risyng
 of the sonne I fond the secunde degre
10 of Aries sittyng upon myn est orisonte, all
 be it that it was but litel. Than fond I the
 2 degre of Libra, nadir of my sonne, discending
 on my west orisonte, upon which west orisonte
 every day generaly, atte sonne arist, entrith the
 houre of eny planete, after which planete the
 day berith his name, and endith in the next
 strike of the plate under the forseide west
 orisonte. And evere as the sonne clymbith upper
 and upper, so goth his nadir downer
20 and downer, teching by suche strikes the
 houres of planetes by ordir as they sitten
 in the hevene. The firste houre inequal of
 every Saturday is to Saturne, and the secunde
 to Jupiter, the thirde to Mars, the fourthe
 to the sonne, the fifte to Venus, the sixte to
 Mercurius, the seventhe to the mone. And
 then ageyn the 8 is to Saturne, the 9 to
 Jupiter, the 10 to Mars, the 11 to the sonne,
 the 12 to Venus. And now is my sonne gon
30 to reste as for that Saturday. Than shewith
 the verrey degre of the sonne the houre
 of Mercurie entring under my west orisonte at
 eve; and next him succedith the mone, and
 so furth by ordir, planete after planete in houre
 after houre, all the nyght longe til the sonne
 arise. Now risith the sonne that Sonday by
 the morwe, and the nadir of the sonne upon
 the west orisonte shewith me the entring of the
 houre of the forseide sonne. And in this
40 manere succedith planete under planete fro
 Saturne unto the mone, and fro the mone up
 ageyn to Saturne, houre after houre generaly.
 And thus knowe I this conclusyoun.
Rub To knowe the altitude of the sonne in
RubA myddes of the day that is clepid the altitude
RubB meridian.
 Set the degre of the sonne upon the lyne
 meridional, and rekne how many degres of
 almykanteras ben bitwyxe thin est orisonte and
 the degre of thy sonne; and tak there thin altitude
 meridian, this to seyn, the highest of the
 sonne as for that day. So maist thou knowe in
 the same lyne the heighest cours that eny sterre
 fix clymbeth by night. This is to seyn that whan
 eny sterre fix is passid the lyne meridional,
10 than begynneth it to descende; and so doth
 the sonne.
Rub To knowe the degre of the sonne by thy
RubA ryet, for a maner curiosite.
 Sek besily with thy rule the highest of the
 sonne in mydde of the day. Turne than thin
 Astrelabie, and with a pricke of ynke marke
 the nombre of that same altitude in the lyne
 meridional; turne than thy ryet aboute tyl thou
 fynde a degre of thy zodiak according with the
 pricke, this is to seyn, sitting on the pricke.
 And in soth thou shalt finde but 2 degrees in
 all the zodiak of that condicioun; and yit
10 thilke 2 degrees ben in diverse signes.
 Than maist thou lightly, by the sesoun of
 the yere, knowe the signe in which that is the
 sonne.
Rub To knowe which day is lik to which
RubA day as of lengthe.
 Loke whiche degrees ben ylike fer fro the
 hevedes of Cancer and Capricorne, and loke
 when the sonne is in eny of thilke degrees;
 than ben the dayes ylike of lengthe. This is
 to seyn that as longe is that day in that month,
 as was such a day in such a month; there varieth
 but litel.
 Also, yf thou take 2 dayes naturales in the
 yere ylike fer fro either point of the equinoxiall
10 in the opposyt parties, than as longe
 is the day artificiall of that oon day as is the
 night of that othir, and the contrarie.
Rub This chapitre is a maner declaracioun
RubA to conclusiouns that folewen.
 Understond wel that thy zodiak is departed
 in two halve circles, as fro the heved of Capricorne
 unto the heved of Cancer, and ageynward
 fro the heved of Cancer unto the heved
 of Capricorne. The heved of Capricorne is
 the lowest point where as the sonne goth in
 wynter, and the heved of Cancer is the heighist
 point in which the sonne goth in somer. And
 therfore understond wel that eny two degrees
10 that ben ylike fer fro eny of these two
 hevedes, truste wel that thilke two degrees
 ben of ilike declinacioun, be it southward or
 northward, and the daies of hem ben ilike of
 lengthe and the nyghtes also, and the shadewes
 ilyke, and the altitudes ylike atte midday
 for evere.
Rub To knowe the verrey degre of eny maner
RubA sterre, straunge or unstraunge, after his longitude;
RubB though he be indetermynat in thin
RubC Astralabye, sothly to the trouthe thus he shal
RubD be knowe.
 Tak the altitude of this sterre whan he is on
 the est syde of the lyne meridionall, as nye
 as thou mayst gesse; and tak an ascendent anon
 right by som manere sterre fix which that thou
 knowist; and forget not the altitude of the firste
 sterre ne thyn ascendent. And whan that this
 is don, aspye diligently whan this same firste
 sterre passith eny thyng the south westward;
 and cacche him anon right in the same
10 nombre of altitude on the west syde of this
 lyne meridional, as he was kaught on the
 est syde; and tak a newe ascendent anon-ryght
 by som maner sterre fix which that thou knowist,
 and forget not this secunde ascendent. And
 whan that this is don, rekne than how many
 degrees ben bitwixe the firste ascendent and
 the secunde ascendent; and rekne wel the myddel
 degre bitwene bothe ascendentes, and set
 thilke myddel degre upon thyn est orizonte;
20 and wayte than what degre that sitte upon
 the lyne meridional, and tak there the verrey
 degre of the ecliptik in which the sterre
 stondith for the tyme. For in the ecliptik is the
 longitude of a celestiall body rekned, evene
 fro the heved of Aries unto the ende of Pisces;
 and his latitude is rekned after the quantite of
 his declynacioun north or south toward the
 polys of this world.
 As thus: Yif it be of the sonne or of
30 eny fix sterre, rekne hys latitude or his
 declinacioun fro the equinoxiall cercle; and
 if it be of a planete, rekne than the quantite
 of his latitude fro the ecliptik lyne, all be it
 so that fro the equinoxiall may the declinacioun
 or the latitude of eny body celestiall be rekned
 after the site north or south and after the quantite
 of his declinacioun. And right so may the
 latitude or the declinacioun of eny body celestiall,
 saaf oonly of the sonne, after hys site
40 north or south and after the quantite of his
 declinacioun, be rekned fro the ecliptik
 lyne; fro which lyne alle planetes som tyme
 declinen north or south saaf oonly the forseide
 sonne.
Rub To knowe the degrees of longitudes of
RubA fixe sterres after that they be determynat in
RubB thin Astrelabye, yf so be that thei be trewly
RubC sette.
 Set the centre of the sterre upon the lyne
 meridionall, and tak kep of thy zodiak, and
 loke what degre of eny signe that sitte upon
 the same lyne meridionall at that same tyme,
 and tak there the degre in which the sterre
 stondith. and with that same degre cometh that
 same sterre unto that same lyne fro the orisonte.
Rub To knowe with which degre of the zodiak
RubA eny sterre fix in thin Astrelabie arisith
RubB upon the est orisonte, all though his dwellyng
RubC be in another signe.
 Set the centre of the sterre upon the est
 orisonte, and loke what degre of eny signe that
 sitt upon the same orisonte at that same tyme.
 And understond wel that with that same degre
 arisith that same sterre.
 And thys merveylous arisyng with a straunge
 degre in another signe is by cause that the
 latitude of the sterre fix is either north or south
 fro the equinoxiall. But sothly the latitudes
10 of planetes be comounly rekened fro the
 ecliptyk, by cause that noon of hem declyneth
 but fewe degrees out fro the brede of the
 zodiak. And tak god kep of this chapitre of
 arisyng of celestialle bodies; for truste wel that
 neyther mone ne sterre, as in our embelif
 orisonte, arisith with that same degre of his
 longitude saaf in oo cas, and that is whan they
 have no latitude fro the ecliptyk lyne. But
 natheles som tyme is everich of these planetes
20 under the same lyne.
Rub To knowe the declinacioun of eny degre
RubA in the zodiak fro the equinoxiall cercle.
 Set the degre of eny signe upon the lyne
 meridionall, and rekne hys altitude in the
 almykanteras fro the est orisonte up to the same
 degre set in the forseide lyne, and set there a
 prikke; turne up than thy riet, and set the heved
 of Aries or Libra in the same meridionall lyne,
 and set there a nother prikke. And whan that
 this is don, considre the altitudes of hem bothe;
 for sothly the difference of thilke altitudes
10 is the declinacioun of thilke degre fro the
 equinoxiall. And yf it so be that thilke degre
 be northward fro the equinoxiall, than is
 his declinacyoun north; yif it be southward,
 than is it south.
Rub To knowe for what latitude in eny regioun
RubA the almykanteras of eny table ben compowned.
 Rekene how many degrees of almykanteras
 in the meridionall lyne ben fro the cercle equinoxiall
 unto the cenyth, or elles from the pool
 artyk unto the north orisonte; and for so gret
 a latitude, or for so smal a latitude, is the table
 compowned.
Rub To knowe in speciall the latitude of
RubA oure countre, I mene after the latitude of Oxenford,
RubB and the height of oure pool.
 Understond wel that as fer is the heved of
 Aries or Libra in the equinoxiall fro oure orisonte
 as is the cenyth fro the pool artik; and
 as high is the pool artik fro the orisonte as the
 equinoxiall is fer fro the cenyth. I prove it
 thus by the latitude of Oxenford: understond
 wel that the height of oure pool artik fro oure
 north orisonte is 51 degrees and 50 mynutes;
 than is the cenyth fro oure pool artik 38 degrees
10 and 10 mynutes; than is the equinoxial
 from oure cenyth 51 degrees and 50
 mynutes; than is oure south orisonte from oure
 equinoxiall 38 degres and 10 mynutes. Understond
 wel this rekenyng. Also forget not
 that the cenyth is 90 degrees of height from
 the orisonte, and oure equinoxiall is 90 degres
 from oure pool artik. Also this shorte rule is
 soth, that the latitude of eny place in a regioun
 is the distaunce fro the cenyth unto
20 the equinoxiall.
Rub To prove evidently the latitude of eny
RubA place in a regioun by the preve of the height
RubB of the pool artik in that same place.
 In som wynters nyght whan the firmament
 is cler and thikke sterred, wayte a tyme til
 that eny sterre fix sitte lyne-right perpendiculer
 over the pool artik, and clepe that sterre A;
 and wayte another sterre that sitte lyne-right
 under A, and under the pool, and clepe that
 sterre F. And understond wel that F is not
 considrid but oonly to declare that A sitte
 evene over the pool. Tak than anoon-right
10 the altitude of A from the orisonte, and forget
 it not; let A and F goo fare wel tyl
 ageynst the dawenyng a gret while, and com
 than ageyn, and abid til that A is evene under
 the pool, and under F; for sothly than wol F
 sitte over the pool, and A wol sitte under the
 pool. Tak than eftsonys the altitude of A from
 the orisonte, and note as wel his secunde altitude
 as hys firste altitude. And whan that this
 is doon, rekene how many degrees that the
20 firste altitude of A excedith his secunde altitude,
 and tak half thilke porcioun that is
 excedid and adde it to his secunde altitude,
 and tak there the elevacioun of thy pool, and
 eke the latitude of thy regioun; for these two
 ben of oo nombre, this is to seyn, as many degres
 as thy pool is elevat, so muche is the latitude
 of the regioun.
 Ensample as thus: Peraventure the altitude of
 A in the evenyng is 56 degrees of height;
30 than wol his secunde altitude or the dawenyng
 be 48 degres, that is 8 degrees lasse
 than 56, that was his first altitude att even.
 Tak than the half of 8 and adde it to 48 that
 was his secunde altitude, and than hast thou
 52. Now hast thou the height of thy pool and
 the latitude of the regioun. But understond
 wel that to prove this conclusioun and many
 another faire conclusioun, thou must have a
 plomet hongyng on a lyne, heygher than
40 thin heved, on a perche; and thilke lyne
 must hange evene perpendiculer bytwixe
 the pool and thin eye; and than shalt thou
 seen yf A sitte evene over the pool, and over
 F atte evene; and also yf F sitte evene over the
 pool and over A or day.
Rub Another conclusioun to prove the
RubA height of the pool artik fro the orisonte.
 Tak eny sterre fix that never descendith under
 the orisonte in thilke regioun, and considre
 his heighist altitude and his lowist altitude
 fro the orisonte, and make a nombre of
 bothe these altitudes; tak than and abate half
 that nombre, and take there the elevacioun of
 the pool artik in that same regioun.
Rub Another conclusioun to prove the latitude
RubA of the regioun.
 Understond wel that the latitude of eny
 place in a regioun is verrely the space bytwixe
 the cenyth of hem that dwellen there and the
 equinoxiall cercle north or south, takyng the
 mesure in the meridional lyne, as shewith in
 the almykanteras of thin Astrelabye. And thilke
 space is as much as the pool artike is high in
 that same place fro the orisonte. And than is
 the depressioun of the pool antartik, that
10 is to seyn, than is the pool antartik, bynethe
 the orisonte the same quantite of
 space neither more ne lasse.
 Than if thou desire to knowe this latitude
 of the regioun, tak the altitude of the sonne
 in the myddel of the day, whan the sonne is
 in the hevedes of Aries or of Libra; for than
 moeveth the sonne in the lyne equinoxiall;
 and abate the nombre of that same sonnes altitude
 out of 90 degrees, and than is the
20 remenaunt of the nombre that leveth
 the latitude of the regioun. As thus:
 I suppose that the sonne is thilke day at
 noon 38 degrees of height; abate than 38
 degrees oute of 90; so leveth there 52; than is
 52 degrees the latitude. I say not this but for
 ensample; for wel I wot the latitude of Oxenford
 is certeyn minutes lasse; thow might
 preve the same.
 Now yf so be that the semeth to longe a
30 tarieng to abide til that the sonne be in the
 hevedes of Aries or of Libra, than wayte
 whan the sonne is in eny othir degre of the
 zodiak, and considre the degre of his declinacioun
 fro the equinoxiall lyne; and if it so be
 that the sonnes declinacioun be northward fro
 the equinoxiall, abate than fro the sonnes altitude
 at non the nombre of his declinacioun,
 and than hast thou the height of the hevedes
 of Aries and Libra. As thus: My sonne
40 is peraventure in the 10 degre of Leoun,
 almost 56 degrees of height at non,
 and his declinacioun is almost 18 degrees
 northward fro the equinoxiall; abate than thilke
 18 degrees of declinacioun out of the altitude
 at non; than leveth there 38 degrees and odde
 minutes. Lo there the heved of Aries or Libra
 and thin equinoxiall in that regioun. Also if
 so be that the sonnes declinacioun be southward
 fro the equinoxiall, adde than thilke
50 declinacioun to the altitude of the sonne at
 noon, and tak there the hevedes of Aries
 and Libra and thin equinoxial; abate than the
 height of the equinoxial out of 90 degrees;
 than leveth there the distance of the pool of
 that regioun fro the equinoxiall. Or elles, if
 the list, tak the highest altitude fro the equinoxial
 of eny sterre fix that thou knowist, and
 tak his netherest elongacioun (lengthing) fro
 the same equinoxial lyne, and work in the
60 manere forseid.
Rub Declaracioun of the ascensioun of
RubA signes.
 The excellence of the spere solide, amonges
 othir noble conclusiouns, shewith manyfest the
 diverse ascenciouns of signes in diverse places,
 as wel in the right cercle as in the embelif
 cercle. These auctours writen that thilke signe
 is cleped of right ascensioun with which more
 part of the cercle equinoxiall and lasse part of
 the zodiak ascendith. and thilke signe ascendith
 embelif with which lasse part of the
10 equinoxiall and more part of the zodiak
 ascendith. Ferther-over, they seyn that in
 thilke cuntrey where as the senith of hem that
 dwellen there is in the equinoxial lyne, and
 her orisonte passyng by the two poles of this
 world, thilke folk han this right cercle and
 the right orisonte; and evermore the arch of
 the day and the arch of the night is there ilike
 longe; and the sonne twies every yer passing
 thorugh the cenith of hir heed, and two
20 someres and two wynters in a yer han these
 forseide peple. And the almycanteras in
 her Astrelabyes ben streight as a lyne, so as
 shewith in the figure.
 The utilite to knowe the ascensions of signes
 in the right cercle is this: Truste wel that
 by mediacioun of thilke ascensions these astrologiens,
 by her tables and her instrumentes,
 knowen verreily the ascensioun of every degre
 and minute in all the zodiak in the embelif
30 cercle, as shal be shewed. And nota that
 this forseide right orisonte, that is clepid
 Orison Rectum, dividith the equinoxial into
 right angles; and the embelif orisonte, where
 as the pool is enhaunced upon the orisonte,
 overkervith the equinoxiall in embilif angles,
 as shewith in the figure.
Rub This is the conclusioun to knowe the
RubA ascensions of signes in the right cercle, that is
RubB circulus directus.
 Set the heved of what signe the lyst to knowe
 his ascendyng in the right cercle upon the lyne
 meridionall, and wayte where thyn almury
 touchith the bordure, and set there a prikke;
 turne than thy riet westward til that the ende
 of the forseide signe sitte upon the meridional
 lyne and eftsonys wayte where thin almury
 touchith the bordure, and set there another
 pricke. Rekene than the nombre of degres
10 in the bordure bitwixe bothe prikkes, and
 tak the ascensioun of the signe in the right
 cercle. And thus maist thou werke with every
 porcioun of thy zodiak.
Rub To knowe the ascensions of signes in the
RubA embelif cercle in every regioun, I mene, in
RubB circulo obliquo.
 Set the heved of the signe which as the list
 to knowe his ascensioun upon the est orisonte,
 and wayte where thin almury touchith the bordure,
 and there set a prikke. Turne than thy
 riet upward til that the ende of the same signe
 sitte upon the est orisonte, and wayte eftsonys
 where as thin almury touchith the bordure,
 and set there a nother prikke. Rekene than
 the nombre of degrees in the bordure bitwyxe
10 bothe prikkes and tak there the ascensioun
 of the signe in the embelif cercle.
 And understond wel that alle the signes in thy
 zodiak, fro the heved of Aries unto the ende
 of Virgo, ben clepid signes of the north fro
 the equinoxiall. And these signes arisen bitwyxe
 the verrey est and the verrey north in
 oure orisonte generaly for evere. And alle the
 signes fro the heved of Libra unto the ende
 of Pisces ben clepid signes of the south fro
20 the equinoxial; and these signes arisen
 evermore bitwixe the verrey est and the
 verrey south in oure orisonte. Also every signe
 bitwixe the heved of Capricorne unto the ende
 of Geminis arisith on oure orisonte in lasse
 than 2 houres equales. And these same signes
 fro the heved of Capricorne unto the ende of
 Geminis ben cleped tortuose signes, or croked
 signes, for thei arise embelyf on oure orisonte.
 And these croked signes ben obedient to
30 the signes that ben of right ascensioun.
 The signes of right ascencioun ben fro the
 heved of Cancer unto the ende of Sagittarie;
 and these signes arisen more upright, and thei
 ben called eke sovereyn signes and everich of
 hem arisith in more space than 2 houres. Of
 whiche signes Gemini obeieth to Cancer, and
 Taurus to Leo, Aries to Virgo, Pisces to Libra,
 Aquarius to Scorpioun, and Capricorne to Sagittarie.
 And thus evermore 2 signes that
40 ben ilike fer fro the heved of Capricorne
 obeyen everich of hem to othir.
Rub To knowe justly the 4 quarters of the
RubA world, as Est, West, North, and South.
 Tak the altitude of thy sonne whan the list,
 and note wel the quarter of the world in which
 the sonne is for the tyme by the azymutz.
 Turne than thin Astrelabie, and set the degre
 of the sonne in the almykanteras of his altitude
 on thilke syde that the sonne stant, as is the
 manere in takyng of houres, and ley thy label
 on the degre of the sonne; and rekene how
 many degrees of the bordure ben bitwixe
10 the lyne meridional and the point of thy
 label, and note wel that nombre. Turne
 than ageyn thin Astrelabie, and set the point
 of thy gret rule there thou takist thin altitudes
 upon as many degrees in his bordure fro his
 meridional as was the point of thy label fro
 the lyne meridional on the wombe side. Take
 than thin Astrelabie with bothe hondes sadly
 and slighly, and let the sonne shyne thorugh
 bothe holes of thy rule, and slighly in thilke
20 shynyng lat thin Astrelabie kouche adoun
 evene upon a smothe ground, and than wol
 the verrey lyne meridional of thin Astrelabie
 lye evene south, and the est lyne wol lye est,
 and the west lyne west, and the north lyne
 north, so that thou worke softly and avysely
 in the kouching. And thus hast thou the 4
 quarters of the firmament.
Rub To knowe the latitude of planetes fro
RubA the wey of the sonne, whethir so they be north
RubB or south fro the forseide wey.
 Loke whan that a planete is in the lyne
 meridional, yf that hir altitude be of the same
 height that is the degre of the sonne for that
 day, and than is the planete in the verrey wey
 of the sonne and hath no latitude. And if the
 altitude of the planete be heigher than the
 degre of the sonne, than is the planete north
 fro the wey of the sonne such a quantite of
 latitude as shewith by thin almykanteras.
10 And if the altitude of the planete be lasse
 than the degre of the sonne, than is the
 planete south fro the wey of the sonne such
 a quantite of latitude as shewith by thin
 almykanteras. This is to seyn, fro the wey
 where as the sonne went thilke day, but not
 fro the wey of the sonne in every place of the
 zodiak.
Rub To knowe the cenyth of the arising of
RubA the sonne, this is to seyn, the partie of the
RubB orisonte in which that the sonne arisith.
 Thou must first considere that the sonne arisith
 not alwey verrey est, but somtyme by northe
 the est and somtyme by south the est. Sothly
 the sonne arisith nevere moo verrey est in oure
 orisonte, but he be in the heved of Aries or
 Libra. Now is thin orisonte departed in 24 parties
 by thin azimutes in significacioun of 24 parties
 of the world; al be it so that shipmen rekene
 thilke parties in 32. Than is there no
10 more but wayte in which azimut that thy
 sonne entrith at his arisyng, and take there
 the cenith of the arisyng of the sonne.
 The manere of the divisioun of thin Astrelabie
 is this, I mene as in this cas: First
 it is divided in 4 plages principalis with the
 lyne that goth from est to west; and than with
 another lyne that goth fro south to north; than
 is it divided in smale parties of azymutz, as est,
 and est by south, where as is the first azymut
20 above the est lyne; and so furth fro
 partie to partie til that thou come ageyn
 unto the est lyne. Thus maist thou understonde
 also the cenyth of eny sterre, in which partie
 he riseth.
Rub To knowe in which partie of the firmament
RubA is the conjunccyoun.
 Considere the tyme of the conjunccyoun by
 the kalender, as thus: Loke hou many houres
 thilke conjunccioun is fro the midday of the
 day precedent, as shewith by the canon of
 thy kalender. Rekene than thilke nombre of
 houres in the bordure of thin Astrelabie, as
 thou art wont to do in knowyng of the houres
 of the day or of the nyght, and ley thy label
 over the degre of the sonne, and than wol
10 the point of thy label sitte upon the houre
 of the conjunccioun. Loke than in which
 azymut the degre of thy sonne sittith, and in
 that partie of the firmament is the conjunccioun.
Rub To knowe the cenyth of the altitude of
RubA the sonne.
 This is no more to seyn but eny tyme of
 the day tak the altitude of the sonne, and by
 the azymut in which he stondith maist thou
 seen in which partie of the firmament he is.
 And the same wise maist thou seen by night,
 of eny sterre, wheither the sterre sitte est or
 west, or north or south, or eny partie bitwene,
 after the name of the azimut in which is the
 sterre.
Rub To knowe sothly the degre of the longitude
RubA of the mone, or of eny planete that hath
RubB no latitude for the tyme fro the ecliptik lyne.
 Tak the altitude of the mone, and rekne thy
 altitude up among thyn almykanteras on
 which syde that the mone stondith, and set
 there a prikke. Tak than anon-right upon the
 mones syde the altitude of eny sterre fix which
 that thou knowist, and set his centre upon his
 altitude among thyn almykanteras there the
 sterre is founde. Wayte than which degre of
 the zodiak touchith the prykke of the altitude
10 of the mone, and tak there the degre
 in which the mone stondith. This conclusioun
 is verrey soth, yf the sterres in thin
 Astrelabie stonden after the trouthe. Comoun
 tretes of the Astrelabie ne maken non excepcioun
 whether the mone have latitude or
 noon, ne on wheyther syde of the mone the
 altitude of the sterre fixe be taken.
 And nota that yf the mone shewe himself
 by light of day, than maist thou worche
20 this same conclusioun by the sonne, as wel
 as by the fixe sterre.
Rub This is the worchinge of the conclusioun
RubA to knowe yf that eny planete be direct
RubB or retrograd.
 Tak the altitude of eny sterre that is clepid
 a planete, and note it wel; and tak eke anon
 the altitude of any sterre fix that thou knowist,
 and note it wel also. Com than ageyn the
 thridde or the fourthe nyght next folewing, for
 than shalt thou perceyve wel the moeving of
 a planete, wheither so he moeve forward or
 bakward. Awayte wel than whan that thy
 sterre fixe is in the same altitude that she
10 was whan thou toke hir firste altitude.
 And tak than eft-sones the altitude of the
 forseide planete and note it wel; for truste wel
 yf so be that the planete be on the right syde
 of the meridional lyne, so that his secunde altitude
 be lasse than hys first altitude was, than
 is the planete direct; and yf he be on the west
 syde in that condicioun, than is he retrograd.
 And yf so be that this planete be upon the est
 side whan his altitude is ytaken, so that his
20 secunde altitude be more than his first altitude,
 than is he retrograd. And if he be on
 the west syde, than is he direct. But the contrarie
 of these parties is of the cours of the
 mone; for certis the mone moeveth the contrarie
 from othre planetes as in hir epicicle, but
 in noon othir manere.
Rub The conclusioun of equaciouns of
RubA houses after the Astrelabie.
 Set the begynnyng of the degre that ascendith
 upon the ende of the 8 houre inequal; than
 wol the begynnyng of the 2 hous sitte upon
 the lyne of mydnight. Remeve than the degre
 that ascendith, and set him on the ende of the
 10 houre inequal, and than wol the begynnyng
 of the 3 hous sitte up on the mydnight lyne.
 Bring up ageyn the same degre that ascended
 first, and set him upon the est orisonte, and
10 than wol the begynnyng of the 4 hous sitte
 upon the lyne of mydnight. Tak than the
 nader of the degre that first ascendid, and set
 him on the ende of the 2 houre inequal; and
 than wol the begynnyng of the 5 hous sitte
 upon the lyne of mydnight. Set than the nader
 of the ascendent on the ende of the 4 houre
 inequal, and than wol the begynnyng of the
 6 hous sitte on the mydnight lyne. The begynnyng
 of the 7 hous is nader of the ascendent,
20 and the begynnyng of the 8 hous
 is nader of the 2, and the begynnyng
 of the 9 hous is nader of the 3, and the begynnyng
 of the 10 hous is nader of the 4,
 and the begynnyng of the 11 hous is nader
 of the 5, and the begynnyng of the 12 hous
 is nader of the 6.
Rub Another maner of equaciouns of houses
RubA by the Astrelabye.
 Tak thin ascendent, and than hast thou thy
 4 angles; for wel thou wost that the opposit
 of thin ascendent, that is to seyn, the begynnyng
 of the 7 hous, sitt upon the west orisonte,
 and the begynnyng of the 10 hous sitt upon
 the lyne meridional, and his opposyt upon the
 lyne of mydnight. Than ley thy label over the
 degre that ascendith, and rekne fro the point
 of thy label alle the degrees in the bordure
10 tyl thou come to the meridional lyne; and
 departe alle thilke degrees in 3 evene parties,
 and take there the evene equacions of 3
 houses; for ley thy label over everich of these
 3 parties, and than maist thou se by thy label,
 in the zodiak, the begynnyng of everich
 of these same houses fro the ascendent; that
 is to seyn, the begynnyng of the 12 hous next
 above thin ascendent, the begynnyng of the
 11 hous, and than the 10 upon the meridional
20 lyne, as I first seide. The same wise
 worch thou fro the ascendent doun to the
 lyne of mydnyght, and thus hast thou othre
 3 houses; that is to seyn, the begynnyng of
 the 2, and the 3, and the 4 hous. Than is the
 nader of these 3 houses the begynnyng of the
 3 houses that folewen.
Rub To fynde the lyne meridional to dwelle
RubA fix in eny certeyn place.
 Tak a round plate of metal; for werpyng,
 the brodder the better; and make there upon
 a just compas a lite within the bordure. And
 ley this rounde plate upon an evene ground,
 or on an evene ston, or on an evene stok fix
 in the ground; and ley it evene by a level.
 And in the centre of the compas styke an
 evene pyn, or a wyr, upright, the smaller the
 better; set thy pyn by a plom-rule evene
10 upright, and let this pyn be no lenger than
 a quarter of the dyametre of thy compas,
 fro the centre amiddes. And wayte bisely
 aboute 10 or 11 of the clokke, whan the sonne
 shineth, whan the shadewe of the pyn entrith
 enythyng within the cercle of thy compas an
 heer-mele; and marke there a pricke with inke.
 Abid than stille waityng on the sonne til after
 1 of the clokke, til that the shadwe of the wyr,
 or of the pyn, passe enything out of the
20 cercle of the compas, be it nevere so lyte,
 and set there another pricke of ynke. Tak
 than a compas, and mesure evene the myddel
 bitwixe bothe prickes, and set there a prikke.
 Tak me than a rule and draw a strike evene
 a-lyne, fro the pyn unto the middel prikke; and
 tak there thi lyne meridional for evermore, as
 in that same place. And yif thou drawe a
 cross-lyne overthwart the compas justly over
 the lyne meridional, than hast thou est and
30 west and south, and par consequens,
 the opposit of the south lyne, i.e. the north.
Rub Descripcion of the meridional lyne, of
RubA longitudes and latitudes of citees and townes,
RubB as wel as of climates.
 Thys lyne meridional is but a maner descripcioun,
 or lyne ymagined, that passith upon the
 poles of this world and by the cenyth of oure
 heved. And it is cleped the lyne meridional,
 for in what place that eny man is at any tyme
 of the yer, whan that the sonne, by mevynge
 of the firmament, cometh to his verrey meridian
 place, than is it verrey mydday, that we clepen
 oure non, as to thilke man. And therfore
10 is it clepid the lyne of midday. And nota
 that evermore of eny 2 cytes or of 2 townes,
 of which that oo town approchith ner toward
 the est than doth that othir town, trust
 wel that thilke townes han diverse meridians.
 Nota also that the arch of the equinoxial that
 is contened or bownded bitwixe the 2 meridians
 is clepid the longitude of the toun. And
 yf so be that two townes have ilike meridian
 or oon meridian, than is the distaunce of
20 hem bothe ilike fer fro the est, and the contrarie;
 and in this manere thei change not
 her meridian. But sothly thei chaungen her
 almykanteras, for the enhaunsyng of the pool
 and the distance of the sonne.
 The longitude of a climat is a lyne ymagined
 fro est to west ilike distant fro the equinoxiall.
 And the latitude of a climat may be
 cleped the space of the erthe fro the begynnyng
 of the first clymat unto the verrey
30 ende of the same clymat evene direct
 ageyns the pool artyke. Thus sayn somme
 auctours; and somme of hem sayn that yf men
 clepe the latitude of a cuntrey the arch meridian
 that is contened or intercept bitwix the
 cenyth and the equinoxial, than say they that
 the distance fro the equinoxial unto the ende
 of a clymat evene ageynst the pool artik is the
 latitude of a clymat forsoothe.
Rub To knowe with which degre of the zodiak
RubA that eny planete ascendith on the orisonte,
RubB wheither so that his latitude be north
RubC or south.
 Know by thin almenak the degre of the
 ecliptik of eny signe in which that the planete
 is rekned for to be, and that is clepid the
 degre of his longitude. And know also the
 degre of his latitude fro the ecliptik north or
 south. And by these ensamples folewynge in
 speciall maist thou worche in general in every
 signe of the zodiak:
 The degree of the longitude peraventure
10 of Venus or of another planete was 1 of
 Capricorne, and the latitude of him was
 northward 4 degrees fro the ecliptik lyne. Than
 tok I a subtil compas, and clepid that oo point
 of my compas A, and that other point F. Than
 tok I the point of A and sette it in the ecliptik
 lyne in my zodiak in the degre of the longitude
 of Venus, that is to seyn, in the 1 degre
 of Capricorne; and than sette I the point of
 F upward in the same signe by cause that
20 latitude was north upon the latitude of
 Venus, that is to seyn, in the 4 degre fro the
 heved of Capricorne; and thus have I 4 degrees
 bitwixe my two prickes. Than leide I down
 softly my compas, and sette the degre of the
 longitude upon the orisonte; tho tok I and
 waxed my label in manere of a peire tables to
 receyve distinctly the prickes of my compas.
 Tho tok I thys forseide label, and leyde it fix
 over the degre of my longitude; tho tok I
30 up my compas and sette the point of A in
 the wax on my label, as evene as I koude
 gesse, over the ecliptik lyne in the ende of the
 longitude, and sette the point of F endelong
 in my label upon the space of the latitude,
 inward and over the zodiak, that is to seyn
 northward fro the ecliptik. Than leide I doun
 my compas, and loked wel in the wey upon
 the prickes of A and of F; tho turned I my ryet
 til that the pricke of F satt upon the orisonte;
40 than saw I wel that the body of
 Venus in hir latitude of 4 degrees septemtrionals
 ascendid, in the ende of the 8 degre,
 fro the heved of Capricorne.
 And nota that in this manere maist thou
 worche with any latitude septemtrional in alle
 signes. But sothly the latitude meridional of
 a planete in Capricorne ne may not be take by
 cause of the litel space bitwixe the ecliptyk
 and the bordure of the Astrelabie; but
50 sothely in all othre signes it may.
 Also the degre peraventure of Jupiter, or of
 another planete, was in the first degre of Piscis
 in longitude, and his latitude was 2 degrees
 meridional; tho tok I the point of A and sette
 it in the first degre of Piscis on the ecliptik;
 and than sette I the point of F dounward in
 the same signe by cause that the latitude was
 south 2 degres, that is to seyn, fro the heved
 of Piscis; and thus have I 2 degres bitwixe
60 bothe prikkes. Than sette I the degre of
 the longitude upon the orisonte; tho tok I
 my label, and leide it fix upon the degre of the
 longitude; tho sette I the point of A on my
 label evene over the ecliptik lyne in the ende
 of the degre of the longitude, and sette the
 point of F endlong in my label the space of
 2 degres of the latitude outward fro the zodiak
 (this is to seyn southward fro the ecliptik toward
 the bordure), and turned my riet
70 til that the pricke of F saat upon the orisonte.
 Than say I wel that the body of
 Jupiter in his latitude of 2 degrees meridional
 ascendid with 8 degres of Piscis in horoscopo.
 And in this manere maist thou worche with
 any latitude meridional, as I first seide, save in
 Capricorne. And yif thou wilt pleye this craft
 with the arisyng of the mone, loke thou rekne
 wel hir cours houre by houre, for she ne dwellith
 not in a degre of hir longitude but litel
80 while, as thow wel knowist. But natheles
 yf thou rekne hir verrey moevyng by thy
 tables houre after houre, [thou shalt do wel
 ynow].
Rub Umbra Recta.
 Yif it so be that thou wilt werke by umbra
 recta, and thou may come to the bas of the
 tour, in this maner shalt thou werke. Tak the
 altitude of the tour by bothe holes, so that
 thy rewle ligge even in a poynt. Ensample as
 thus: I see him thorw at the poynt of 4; than
 mete I the space betwixe me and the tour,
 and I finde it 20 foot; than beholde I how 4
 is to 12, right so is the space betwixe thee
110 and the tour to the altitude of the tour.
 For 4 is the thridde part of 12, so is the
 space between thee and the tour the thridde
 part of the altitude of the tour; than thryes 20
 foot is the heyghte of the tour, with adding of
 thyn owne persone to thyn eye. And this rewle
 is general in umbra recta, fro the poynt of
 oon to 12. And yif thy rewle falle upon 5, than
 is 5 12-partyes of the heyght the space between
 thee and the tour; with adding of
120 thyn owne heyghte.
Rub Umbra Versa.
 Another maner of the werkinge, by umbra
 versa. Yif so be that thou may nat come to
 the bas of the tour, I see him thorw at the nombre
 of 1; I sette ther a prikke at my fot; than
 go I neer to the tour, and I see him thorw at
 the poynt of 2, and there I sette another prikke;
 and I beholde how 1 hath him to 12, and ther
 finde I that it hath him twelfe sythes; than
 beholde I how 2 hath him to 12, and thou
110 shalt finde it sexe sythes; than thou shalt
 finde that 12 passith 6 by the numbre of
 6; right so is the space between thy two prikkes
 the space of 6 tymes thyn altitude. And note,
 that at the ferste altitude of 1, thou settest a
 prikke; and afterward, whan thou seest him at
 2, ther thou settest another prikke; than thou
 findest betwyx thes two prikkys 60 foot; than
 thou shalt finde that 10 is the 6-party of 60.
 And then is 10 feet the altitude of the tour.
120 For other poyntis, yif it fille in umbra versa,
 as thus: I sette caas it fill upon 2, and at
 the secunde upon 3; than schalt thou finde
 that 2 is 6 partyes of 12; and 3 is 4 partyes of
 12; than passeth 6 4, by nombre of 2; so is the
 space between two prikkes twyes the heyghte
 of the tour. And yif the differens were thryes,
 than shulde it be three tymes; and thus mayst
 thou werke fro 1 to 12; and yif it be 4, 4 tymes;
 or 5, 5 tymes; et sic de ceteris.
Rub Umbra Recta.
 Another maner of wyrking, by umbra recta:
 Yif it so be that thou mayst nat come to the
 baas of the tour, in this maner thou schalt
 werke. Set thy rewle upon 1 till thou see the
 altitude, and set at thy foot a prikke. Than
 set thy rewle upon 2, and behold what is the
 differense between 1 and 2, and thou shalt
 finde that it is 1. Than mete the space between
 two prikkes, and that is the 12 partie
10 of the altitude of the tour. And yif ther
 were 2, it were the 6 partye; and yif ther
 were 3, the 4 partye; et sic deinceps. And
 note, yif it were 5, it were the 5 party of 12;
 and 7, 7 party of 12; and note, at the altitude
 of thy conclusion, adde the stature of thyn
 heyghte to thyn eye.
Rub Another maner conclusion, to knowe
RubA the mene mote and the argumentis of any
RubB planete. To know the mene mote and the argumentis
RubC of every planete fro yeer to yeer, from
RubD day to day, from houre to houre, and from
RubE smale fraccionis infinite.
 In this maner shalt thou worche; consider
 thy rote first, the whiche is made the beginning
 of the tables fro the yer of oure Lord
 1397, and enter hit into thy slate for the laste
 meridie of December; and than consider the
 yer of oure Lord, what is the date, and behold
 whether thy date be more or lasse than the
 yer 1397. And yf hit so be that hit be more,
 loke how many yeres hit passeth, and with
10 so many enter into thy tables in the first
 lyne theras is writen anni collecti et expansi.
 And loke where the same planet is
 writen in the hed of thy table, and than loke
 what thou findest in direct of the same yer of
 oure Lord which is passid, be hit 8, or 9, or
 10, or what nombre that evere it be, til the
 tyme that thou come to 20, or 40, or 60. And
 that thou findest in direct wryt in thy slate under
 thy rote, and adde hit togeder, and that is
20 thy mene mote, for the laste meridian of
 the December, for the same yer which that
 thou hast purposed. And if hit so be that hit
 passe 20, consider wel that fro 1 to 20 ben
 anni expansi, and fro 20 to 3000 ben anni collecti;
 and if thy nomber passe 20, than tak that
 thou findest in direct of 20, and if hit be more,
 as 6 or 18, than tak that thou findest in direct
 thereof, that is to sayen, signes, degrees, minutes,
 and secoundes, and adde togedere
30 unto thy rote; and thus to make rotes. And
 note, that if hit so be that the yer of oure
 Lord be lasse than the rote, which is the yer
 of oure Lord 1397, than shalt thou wryte in
 the same wyse first thy rote in thy slate, and
 after enter into thy table in the same yer that
 be lasse, as I taught before; and than consider
 how many signes, degrees, minutes, and secoundes
 thyn entringe conteyneth. And so be
 that ther be 2 entrees, than adde hem togeder,
40 and after withdraw hem from the
 rote, the yer of oure Lord 1397; and the
 residue that leveth is thy mene mote for the
 laste meridie of December, the whiche thou
 hast purposid; and if hit so be that thou wolt
 witen thy mene mote for any day, or for any
 fraccioun of day, in this maner thou shalt
 worche. Make thy rote fro the laste day of
 December in the maner as I have taught,
 and afterward behold how many monethes,
50 dayes, and houres ben passid from the
 meridie of December, and with that enter
 with the laste moneth that is ful passed, and
 take that thou findest in direct of him, and
 wryt hit in thy slate; and enter with as mony
 dayes as be more, and wryt that thou findest
 in direct of the same planete that thou worchest
 for; and in the same wyse in the table of
 houres, for houres that ben passed, and adde
 alle these to thy rote; and the residue is the
60 mene mote for the same day and the same
 houre.
Rub Another manere to knowe the mene
RubA mote.
 Whan thou wolt make the mene mote of eny
 planete to be by Arsechieles tables, tak thy
 rote, the which is for the yer of oure Lord
 1397; and if so be that thy yer be passid the
 date, wryt that date, and than wryt the nomber
 of the yeres. Than withdraw the yeres
 out of the yeres that ben passed that rote.
 Ensampul as thus: the yer of oure Lord 1400,
 I wolde wyten, precise, my rote; than wrot
10 I first 1400. And under that nomber I
 wrot a 1397; than withdrow I the laste
 nomber out of that, and than fond I the residue
 was 3 yer; I wiste that 3 yer was passed
 fro the rote, the which was writen in my
 tables. Than afterward soghte I in my tables
 the annis collectis et expansis, and among myn
 expanse yeres fond I 3 yeer. Than tok I alle
 the signes, degrees, and minutes, that I fond
 direct under the same planete that I
20 wroghte for, and wrot so many signes,
 degrees, and minutes in my slate, and afterward
 added I to signes, degrees, minutes, and
 secoundes, the whiche I fond in my rote the
 yer of oure Lord 1397; and kepte the residue;
 and than had I the mene mote for the laste
 day of December. And if thou woldest wete
 the mene mote of any planete in March, April,
 or May, other in any other tyme or moneth of
 the yer, loke how many monethes and
30 dayes ben passed from the laste day of December,
 the yer of oure Lord 1400; and so
 with monethis and dayes enter into thy table
 ther thou findest thy mene mote iwriten in
 monethes and dayes, and tak alle the signes,
 degrees, minutes, and secoundes that thou findest
 ywrite in direct of thy monethes, and adde
 to signes, degrees, minutes, and secoundes that
 thou findest with thy rote the yer of oure
 Lord 1400, and the residue that leveth is the
40 mene mote for that same day. And note,
 if hit so be that thou woldest wite the mene
 mote in any yer that is lasse than thy rote,
 withdraw the nomber of so many yeres as hit
 is lasse than the yer of oure Lord a 1397, and
 kep the residue; and so many yeres, monethes,
 and dayes enter into thy tables of thy mene
 mote. And tak alle the signes, degrees, and
 minutes, and secoundes, that thou findest in
 direct of alle the yeres, monethes, and
50 dayes, and wryt hem in thy slate; and
 above thilke nomber wryt the signes, degrees,
 minutes, and secoundes, the which thou
 findest with thy rote the yer of oure Lord a
 1397; and withdraw alle the nethere signes
 and degrees fro the signes and degrees, minutes,
 and secoundes of other signes with thy
 rote; and thy residue that leveth is thy mene
 mote for that day.
Rub For to knowe at what houre of the day,
RubA or of the night, shal be flod or ebbe.
 First wite thou certeinly, hou that haven
 stondeth, that thou list to werke for; that is
 to say in which place of the firmament the
 mone beyng, makith full see. Than awayte
 thou redily in what degree of the zodiak that
 the mone at that tyme is ynne. Bring furth
 than the label, and set the point therof in
 that same cost that the mone makith flod, and
 set thou there the degree of the mone according
10 with the egge of the label. Than
 afterward awayte where is than the degree
 of the sonne, at that tyme. Remeve thou than
 the label fro the mone, and bring and set it
 justly upon the degree of the sonne. And the
 point of the label shal than declare to thee, at
 what houre of the day or of the night shal
 be flod. And there also maist thou wite by the
 same point of the label, whethir it be, at that
 same tyme, flod or ebbe, or half flod, or
20 quarter flod, or ebbe, or half or quarter
 ebbe; or ellis at what houre it was last, or
 shal be next by night or by day, thou than
 shalt esely knowe, &c. Furthermore, if it so
 be that thou happe to worke for this matere
 aboute the tyme of the conjunccioun, bring
 furth the degree of the mone with the label
 to that coste as it is before seyd. But than thou
 shalt understonde that thou may not bringe
 furth the label fro the degree of the mone
30 as thou dide before; for-why the sonne is
 than in the same degree with the mone.
 And so thou may at that tyme by the point of
 the label unremevid knowe the houre of the
 flod or of the ebbe, as it is before seyd, &c.
 And evermore as thou findest the mone passe
 fro the sonne, so remeve thou the label than
 fro the degree of the mone, and bring it to
 the degree of the sonne. And work thou than
 as thou dide before, &c. Or ellis know
40 thou what houre it is that thou art inne,
 by thyn instrument. Than bring thou furth
 fro thennes the label and ley it upon the degree
 of the mone, and therby may thou wite
 also whan it was flod, or whan it wol be next,
 be it night or day; &c.

---

The Romaunt of the Rose

Fragment A

 Many men sayn that in sweveninges
 Ther nys but fables and lesynges;
 But men may some sweven[es] sen
 Whiche hardely that false ne ben,
 But afterward ben apparaunt.
 This may I drawe to warraunt
 An authour that hight Macrobes,
 That halt nat dremes false ne lees,
 But undoth us the avysioun
10 That whilom mette kyng Cipioun.
 And whoso saith or weneth it be
 A jape, or elles nycete,
 To wene that dremes after falle,
 Let whoso lyste a fol me calle.
 For this trowe I, and say for me,
 That dremes signifiaunce be
 Of good and harm to many wightes
 That dremen in her slep a-nyghtes
 Ful many thynges covertly
20 That fallen after al openly.
 Within my twenty yer of age,
 Whan that Love taketh his cariage
 Of yonge folk, I wente soone
 To bedde, as I was wont to done,
 And faste I slepte; and in slepyng
 Me mette such a swevenyng
 That lyked me wonders wel.
 But in that sweven is never a del
 That it nys afterward befalle,
30 Ryght as this drem wol tel us alle.
 Now this drem wol I ryme aright
 To make your hertes gaye and lyght,
 For Love it prayeth, and also
 Commaundeth me that it be so.
 And if there any aske me,
 Whether that it be he or she,
 How this book, which is here,
 Shal hatte, that I rede you here:
 It is the Romance of the Rose,
40 In which al the art of love I close.
 The mater fayre is of to make;
 God graunt me in gree that she it take
 For whom that it begonnen is.
 And that is she that hath, ywis,
 So mochel pris, and therto she
 So worthy is biloved to be,
 That she wel ought, of pris and ryght,
 Be cleped Rose of every wight.
 That it was May me thoughte tho
50 It is fyve yer or more ago
 That it was May, thus dremed me,
 In tyme of love and jolite,
 That al thing gynneth waxen gay,
 For ther is neither busk nor hay
 In May that it nyl shrouded ben
 And it with newe leves wren.
 These wodes eek recoveren grene,
 That drie in wynter ben to sene,
 And the erthe wexith proud withalle,
60 For swote dewes that on it falle,
 And the pore estat forget
 In which that wynter had it set.
 And than bycometh the ground so proud
 That it wole have a newe shroud,
 And makith so queynt his robe and faire
 That it hath hewes an hundred payre
 Of gras and flouris, ynde and pers,
 And many hewes ful dyvers
 That is the robe I mene, iwys,
70 Through which the ground to preisen is.
 The briddes that haven left her song,
 While thei suffride cold so strong,
 In wedres gryl and derk to sighte,
 Ben in May for the sonne brighte
 So glade that they shewe in syngyng
 That in her hertis is sich lykyng
 That they mote syngen and be light.
 Than doth the nyghtyngale hir myght
 To make noyse and syngen blythe,
80 Than is blisful many sithe
 The chelaundre and papyngay,
 Than yonge folk entenden ay
 Forto ben gay and amorous
 The tyme is than so saverous.
 Hard is the hert that loveth nought
 In May whan al this mirth is wrought,
 Whan he may on these braunches here
 The smale briddes syngen clere
 Her blisful swete song pitous.
90 And in this sesoun delytous,
 Whan love affraieth alle thing,
 Me thought a-nyght in my sleping,
 Right in my bed, ful redily,
 That it was by the morowe erly,
 And up I roos and gan me clothe.
 Anoon I wissh myn hondis bothe.
 A sylvre nedle forth I drough
 Out of an aguler queynt ynough,
 And gan this nedle threde anon,
100 For out of toun me list to gon
 The song of briddes forto here
 That in thise buskes syngen clere.
 And in [the] swete seson that leef is,
 With a thred bastyng my slevis,
 Alone I wente in my plaiyng,
 The smale foules song harknyng.
 They peyned hem, ful many peyre,
 To synge on bowes blosmed feyre.
 Joly and gay, ful of gladnesse,
110 Toward a ryver gan I me dresse
 That I herd renne faste by,
 For fairer plaiyng non saugh I
 Than playen me by that ryver.
 For from an hill that stood ther ner
 Cam doun the strem ful stif and bold.
 Cleer was the water, and as cold
 As any welle is, soth to seyne,
 And somdel lasse it was than Seyne,
 But it was strayghter wel away.
120 And never saugh I, er that day,
 The watir that so wel lyked me,
 And wondir glad was I to se
 That lusty place and that ryver.
 And with that watir, that ran so cler,
 My face I wyssh. Tho saugh I well
 The botme paved everydell
 With gravel, ful of stones shene.
 The medewe softe, swote, and grene,
 Beet right on the watir syde.
130 Ful cler was than the morowtyde,
 And ful attempre, out of drede.
 Tho gan I walke thorough the mede,
 Dounward ay in my pleiyng,
 The ryver syde costeiyng.
 And whan I had a while goon,
 I saugh a gardyn right anoon,
 Ful long and brood, and everydell
 Enclosed was, and walled well
 With highe walles enbatailled,
140 Portraied without and wel entailled
 With many riche portraitures.
 And bothe the ymages and the peyntures
 Gan I biholde bysyly,
 And I wole telle you redyly
 Of thilk ymages the semblaunce,
 As fer as I have in remembraunce.
 Amydde saugh I Hate stonde,
 That for hir wrathe, yre, and onde,
 Semede to ben a mynoresse,
150 An angry wight, a chideresse;
 And ful of gyle and fel corage,
 By semblaunt, was that ilk ymage.
 And she was nothyng wel arraied,
 But lyk a wod womman afraied.
 Frounced foule was hir visage,
 And grennyng for dispitous rage,
 Hir nose snorted up for tene.
 Ful hidous was she for to sene,
 Ful foul and rusty was she, this.
160 Hir heed writhen was, ywis,
 Ful grymly with a greet towayle.
 An ymage of another entayle
 A lyft half was hir faste by.
 Hir name above hir heed saugh I,
 And she was called Felonye.
 Another ymage that Vilanye
 Clepid was saugh I and fond
 Upon the wal on hir right hond.
 Vilany was lyk somdell
170 That other ymage, and, trustith wel,
 She semede a wikked creature.
 By countenaunce in portrayture
 She semed be ful dispitous,
 And eek ful proud and outragious.
 Wel coude he peynte, I undirtake,
 That sich ymage coude make.
 Ful foul and cherlyssh semed she,
 And eek vylayneus for to be,
 And litel coude of norture
180 To worshipe any creature.
 And next was peynted Coveitise,
 That eggith folk in many gise
 To take and yeve right nought ageyn,
 And gret tresouris up to leyn.
 And that is she that for usure
 Leneth to many a creature
 The lasse for the more wynnyng,
 So coveitous is her brennyng.
 And that is she that penyes fele
190 Techith for to robbe and stele
 These theves and these smale harlotes;
 And that is routh, for by her throtes
 Ful many oon hangith at the laste.
 She makith folk compasse and caste
 To taken other folkis thyng
 Thorough robberie or myscounting.
 And that is she that makith trechoures,
 And she makith false pleadoures
 That with hir termes and hir domes
200 Doon maydens, children, and eek gromes
 Her heritage to forgo.
 Ful croked were hir hondis two,
 For Coveitise is evere wod
 To gripen other folkis god.
 Coveityse, for hir wynnyng,
 Ful leef hath other mennes thing.
 Another ymage set saugh I
 Next Coveitise faste by,
 And she was clepid Avarice.
210 Ful foul in peyntyng was that vice;
 Ful fade and caytif was she eek,
 And also grene as ony leek.
 So yvel hewed was hir colour,
 Hir semed to have lyved in langour.
 She was lyk thyng for hungre deed,
 That ladde hir lyf oonly by breed
 Kneden with eisel strong and egre,
 And therto she was lene and megre.
 And she was clad ful porely
220 Al in an old torn courtepy,
 As she were al with doggis torn;
 And bothe bihynde and eke biforn
 Clouted was she beggarly.
 A mantyl heng hir faste by,
 Upon a perche, weik and small;
 A burnet cote heng therwithall
 Furred with no menyver,
 But with a furre rough of her,
 Of lambe-skynnes hevy and blake.
230 It was ful old, I undirtake,
 For Avarice to clothe hir well
 Ne hastith hir never a dell.
 For certeynly it were hir loth
 To weren ofte that ilke cloth,
 And if it were forwered, she
 Wolde have ful gret necessite
 Of clothyng er she bought hir newe,
 Al were it bad of woll and hewe.
 This Avarice hild in hir hand
240 A purs that heng by a band,
 And that she hidde and bond so stronge,
 Men must abyde wondir longe
 Out of that purs er ther come ought.
 For that ne cometh not in hir thought;
 It was not, certein, hir entente
 That fro that purs a peny wente.
 And by that ymage, nygh ynough,
 Was peynted Envye, that never lough
 Nor never wel in hir herte ferde
250 But if she outher saugh or herde
 Som gret myschaunce or gret disese.
 Nothyng may so moch hir plese
 As myschef and mysaventure,
 Or whan she seeth discomfiture
 Upon ony worthy man falle,
 Than likith hir wel withalle.
 She is ful glad in hir corage,
 If she se any gret lynage
 Be brought to nought in shamful wise.
260 And if a man in honour rise,
 Or by his wit or by his prowesse,
 Of that hath she gret hevynesse.
 For, trustith wel, she goth nygh wod
 Whan any chaunce happith god.
 Envie is of such crueltee
 That feith ne trouthe holdith she
 To freend ne felawe, bad or good.
 Ne she hath kyn noon of hir blood,
 That she nys ful her enemy;
270 She nolde, I dar seyn hardely,
 Hir owne fadir ferde well.
 And sore abieth she everydell
 Hir malice and hir maltalent,
 For she is in so gret turment,
 And hath such [wo] whan folk doth good
 That nygh she meltith for pure wood.
 Hir herte kervyth and so brekith
 That God the puple wel awrekith.
 Envie, iwis, shal nevere lette
280 Som blame upon the folk to sette.
 I trowe that if Envie, iwis,
 Knewe the beste man that is
 On this side or biyonde the see,
 Yit somwhat lakken hym wolde she;
 And if he were so hende and wis
 That she ne myght al abate his pris,
 Yit wolde she blame his worthynesse
 Or by hir wordis make it lesse.
 I saugh Envie in that peyntyng
290 Hadde a wondirful lokyng,
 For she ne lokide but awry
 Or overthwart, all baggyngly.
 And she hadde a [foul] usage:
 She myght loke in no visage
 Of man or womman forth-right pleyn,
 But shette hir [oon] eie for disdeyn.
 So for envie brenned she
 Whan she myght any man se
 That fair or worthi were, or wis,
300 Or elles stod in folkis prys.
 Sorowe was peynted next Envie
 Upon that wall of masonrye.
 But wel was seyn in hir colour
 That she hadde lyved in langour;
 Hir semede to have the jaunyce.
 Nought half so pale was Avarice,
 Nor nothyng lyk of lenesse;
 For sorowe, thought, and gret distresse,
 That she hadde suffred day and nyght,
310 Made hir ful yelow and nothyng bright,
 Ful fade, pale, and megre also.
 Was never wight yit half so wo
 As that hir semede for to be,
 Nor so fulfilled of ire as she.
 I trowe that no wight myght hir please
 Nor do that thyng that myght hir ease;
 Nor she ne wolde hir sorowe slake,
 Nor comfort noon unto hir take,
 So depe was hir wo bigonnen,
320 And eek hir hert in angre ronnen.
 A sorowful thyng wel semed she,
 Nor she hadde nothyng slowe be
 For to forcracchen al hir face,
 And for to rent in many place
 Hir clothis, and for to tere hir swire,
 As she that was fulfilled of ire.
 And al totorn lay eek hir her
 Aboute hir shuldris here and ther,
 As she that hadde it al torent
330 For angre and for maltalent.
 And eek I telle you certeynly
 How that she wep ful tendirly.
 In world nys wight so hard of herte
 That hadde sen her sorowes smerte,
 That nolde have had of her pyte,
 So wo-begon a thyng was she.
 She al todassht herself for woo
 And smot togyder her hondes two.
 To sorowe was she ful ententyf,
340 That woful recheles caytyf.
 Her roughte lytel of playing
 Or of clypping or kissyng;
 For whoso sorouful is in herte,
 Him luste not to play ne sterte,
 Ne for to dauncen, ne to synge,
 Ne may his herte in temper bringe
 To make joye on even or morowe,
 For joy is contrarie unto sorowe.
 Elde was paynted after this,
350 That shorter was a foot, iwys,
 Than she was wont in her yonghede.
 Unneth herself she mighte fede.
 So feble and eke so old was she
 That faded was al her beaute.
 Ful salowe was waxen her colour;
 Her heed, for hor, was whyt as flour.
 Iwys, great qualm ne were it non,
 Ne synne, although her lyf were gon.
 Al woxen was her body unwelde,
360 And drie and dwyned al for elde.
 A foul, forwelked thyng was she,
 That whylom round and softe had be.
 Her eeres shoken faste withalle,
 As from her heed they wolde falle;
 Her face frounced and forpyned,
 And bothe her hondes lorne, fordwyned.
 So old she was that she ne wente
 A foot, but it were by potente.
 The tyme that passeth nyght and day,
370 And resteles travayleth ay,
 And steleth from us so prively
 That to us semeth sykerly
 That it in oon poynt dwelleth ever
 And certes, it ne resteth never,
 But goth so faste, and passeth ay,
 That ther nys man that thynke may
 What tyme that now present is
 (Asketh at these clerkes this),
 For [er] men thynke it, redily
380 Thre tymes ben passed by
 The tyme, that may not sojourne,
 But goth and may never retourne,
 As watir that doun renneth ay,
 But never drope retourne may;
 Ther may nothing as tyme endure,
 Metall nor erthely creature,
 For alle thing it fret and shall;
 The tyme eke that chaungith all,
 And all doth waxe and fostred be,
390 And alle thing distroieth he;
 The tyme that eldith our auncessours,
 And eldith kynges and emperours,
 And that us alle shal overcomen,
 Er that deth us shal have nomen;
 The tyme that hath al in welde
 To elden folk had maad hir elde
 So ynly that, to my witing,
 She myghte helpe hirsilf nothing,
 But turned ageyn unto childhede.
400 She had nothing hirsilf to lede,
 Ne wit ne pithe in hir hold,
 More than a child of two yeer old.
 But natheles, I trowe that she
 Was fair sumtyme, and fresh to se,
 Whan she was in hir rightful age,
 But she was past al that passage,
 And was a doted thing bicomen.
 A furred cope on had she nomen;
 Wel had she clad hirsilf and warm,
410 For cold myght elles don hir harm.
 These olde folk have alwey cold;
 Her kynde is sich, whan they ben old.
 Another thing was don there write
 That semede lyk an ipocrite,
 And it was clepid Poope-Holy.
 That ilk is she that pryvely
 Ne spareth never a wikked dede,
 Whan men of hir taken noon hede,
 And maketh hir outward precious,
420 With pale visage and pitous,
 And semeth a simple creature;
 But ther nys no mysaventure
 That she ne thenkith in hir corage.
 Ful lyk to hir was that ymage,
 That makid was lyk hir semblaunce.
 She was ful symple of countenaunce,
 And she was clothed and eke shod
 As she were, for the love of God,
 Yolden to relygioun,
430 Sich semede hir devocioun.
 A sauter held she fast in honde,
 And bisily she gan to fonde
 To make many a feynt praiere
 To God and to his seyntis dere.
 Ne she was gay, ne fresh, ne jolyf,
 But semede to be ful ententyf
 To gode werkis and to faire,
 And therto she had on an haire.
 Ne, certis, she was fatt nothing,
440 But semed wery for fasting;
 Of colour pale and deed was she.
 From hir the gate ay werned be
 Of paradys, that blisful place;
 For sich folk maketh lene her face,
 As Crist seith in his evangile,
 To gete hem prys in toun a while;
 And for a litel glorie veine
 They lesen God and his reigne.
 And alderlast of everychon
450 Was peynted Povert al aloon,
 That not a peny hadde in wolde,
 All though she hir clothis solde,
 And though she shulde anhonged be,
 For nakid as a worm was she.
 And if the wedir stormy were,
 For cold she shulde have deyed there.
 She nadde on but a streit old sak,
 And many a clout on it ther stak:
 This was hir cote and hir mantell.
460 No more was there, never a dell,
 To clothe hir with, I undirtake;
 Gret leyser hadde she to quake.
 And she was putt, that I of talke,
 Fer fro these other, up in an halke.
 There lurked and there coured she,
 For pover thing, whereso it be,
 Is shamefast and dispised ay.
 Acursed may wel be that day
 That povere man conceyved is.
470 For, God wot, al to selde, iwys,
 Is ony povere man wel fed,
 Or wel araied or [wel] cled,
 Or wel biloved, in sich wise
 In honour that he may arise.
 Alle these thingis, well avised,
 As I have you er this devysed,
 With gold and asure over all
 Depeynted were upon the wall.
 Square was the wall, and high sumdell;
480 Enclosed and barred well,
 In stede of hegge, was that gardyn;
 Com nevere shepherde theryn.
 Into that gardyn, wel wrought,
 Whoso that me coude have brought,
 By laddre or elles by degre,
 It wolde wel have liked me.
 For sich solas, sich joie and play,
 I trowe that nevere man ne say,
 As was in that place delytous.
490 The gardeyn was not daungerous
 To herberwe briddes many oon.
 So riche a yer[d] was never noon
 Of briddes song and braunches grene;
 Therynne were briddes mo, I wene,
 Than ben in all the rewme of Fraunce.
 Ful blisful was the accordaunce
 Of swete and pitous song thei made,
 For all this world it owghte glade.
 And I mysilf so mery ferde,
500 Whan I her blisful songes herde,
 That for an hundred pound nolde I
 (If that the passage openly
 Hadde be unto me free)
 That I nolde entren for to se
 Th' assemble God kepe it fro care!
 Of briddis whiche therynne ware,
 That songen thorugh her mery throtes
 Daunces of love and mery notes.
 Whan I thus herde foules synge,
510 I fel fast in a weymentynge
 By which art or by what engyn
 I myght come into that gardyn;
 But way I couth. fynde noon
 Into that gardyn for to goon.
 Ne nought wist I if that ther were
 Eyther hole or place [o-]where
 By which I myght have entre.
 Ne ther was noon to teche me,
 For I was al aloone, iwys,
520 Ful wo and angwishus of this,
 Til atte last bithought I me
 That by no weye ne myght it be
 That ther nas laddre or wey to passe,
 Or hole, into so faire a place.
 Tho gan I go a full gret pas
 Envyronyng evene in compas
 The closing of the square wall,
 Tyl that I fond a wiket small
 So shett that I ne myght in gon,
530 And other entre was ther noon.
 Uppon this dore I gan to smyte,
 That was fetys and so lite,
 For other wey coude I not seke.
 Ful long I shof, and knokkide eke,
 And stood ful long and of[t] herknyng,
 If that I herde ony wight comyng,
 Til that [the] dore of thilk entre
 A mayden curteys openyde me.
 Hir heer was as yelowe of hewe
540 As ony basyn scoured newe,
 Hir flesh tendre as is a chike,
 With bente browis smothe and slyke.
 And by mesure large were
 The openyng of hir yen clere,
 Hir nose of good proporcioun,
 Hir yen grey as is a faucoun,
 With swete breth and wel savoured,
 Hir face whit and wel coloured,
 With litel mouth and round to see.
550 A clove chynne eke hadde she.
 Hir nekke was of good fasoun
 In lengthe and gretnesse, by resoun,
 Withoute bleyne, scabbe, or royne;
 Fro Jerusalem unto Burgoyne
 Ther nys a fairer nekke, iwys,
 To fele how smothe and softe it is.
 Hir throte, also whit of hewe
 As snowe on braunche snowed newe.
 Of body ful wel wrought was she;
560 Men neded not in no cuntre
 A fairer body for to seke.
 And of fyn orfrays hadde she eke
 A chapelet so semly oon
 Ne werede never mayde upon
 And faire above that chapelet
 A rose gerland had she sett.
 She hadde [in honde] a gay mirrour,
 And with a riche gold tressour
 Hir heed was tressed queyntely,
570 Hir sleves sewid fetisly,
 And for to kepe hir hondis faire
 Of gloves white she had a paire.
 And she hadde on a cote of grene
 Of cloth of Gaunt. Withouten wene,
 Wel semyde by hir apparayle
 She was not wont to gret travayle,
 For whan she kempt was fetisly,
 And wel arayed and richely,
 Thanne had she don al hir journe,
580 For merye and wel bigoon was she.
 She ladde a lusty lyf in May:
 She hadde no thought, by nyght ne day,
 Of nothyng, but if it were oonly
 To graythe hir wel and uncouthly.
 Whan that this dore hadde opened me
 This may[de] semely for to see,
 I thanked hir as I best myghte,
 And axide hir how that she highte,
 And what she was I axide eke.
590 And she to me was nought unmeke,
 Ne of hir answer daungerous,
 But faire answerde, and seide thus:
 "Lo, sir, my name is Ydelnesse;
 So clepe men me, more and lesse.
 Ful myghty and ful riche am I,
 And that of oon thyng namely,
 For I entende to nothyng
 But to my joye and my pleying,
 And for to kembe and tresse me.
600 Aqueynted am I and pryve
 With Myrthe, lord of this gardyn,
 That fro the land of Alexandryn
 Made the trees hidre be fet
 That in this gardyn ben set.
 And whan the trees were woxen on highte,
 This wall, that stant heere in thi sighte,
 Dide Myrthe enclosen al aboute;
 And these ymages, al withoute,
 He dide hem bothe entaile and peynte,
610 That neithir ben jolyf ne queynte,
 But they ben ful of sorowe and woo,
 As thou hast seen a while agoo.
 And ofte tyme, hym to solace,
 Sir Myrthe cometh into this place,
 And eke with hym cometh his meynee
 That lyven in lust and jolite.
 And now is Myrthe therynne to here
 The briddis how they syngen clere,
 The mavys and the nyghtyngale,
620 And other joly briddis smale.
 And thus he walketh to solace
 Hym and his folk, for swetter place
 To pleyen ynne he may not fynde,
 Although he sought oon in-tyl Ynde.
 The alther-fairest folk to see
 That in this world may founde be
 Hath Mirthe with hym in his route,
 That folowen hym always aboute."
 Whan Ydelnesse had told al this,
630 And I hadde herkned wel, ywys,
 Thanne seide I to dame Ydelnesse,
 "Now, also wisly God me blesse,
 Sith Myrthe, that is so faire and fre,
 Is in this yerde with his meyne,
 Fro thilk assemble, if I may,
 Shal no man werne me to-day,
 That I this nyght ne mote it see.
 For wel wene I there with hym be
 A fair and joly companye
640 Fulfilled of alle curtesie."
 And forth, withoute wordis mo,
 In at the wiket went I tho,
 That Ydelnesse hadde opened me,
 Into that gardyn fair to see.
 And whan I was inne, iwys,
 Myn herte was ful glad of this,
 For wel wende I ful sikerly
 Have ben in paradys erthly.
 So fair it was that, trusteth wel,
650 It semede a place espirituel,
 For certys, as at my devys,
 Ther is no place in paradys
 So good inne for to dwelle or be
 As in that gardyn, thoughte me.
 For there was many a bridd syngyng,
 Thoroughout the yerd al thringyng;
 In many places were nyghtyngales,
 Alpes, fynches, and wodewales,
 That in her swete song deliten
660 In thilke places as they habiten.
 There myghte men see many flokkes
 Of turtles and laverokkes.
 Chalaundres fele sawe I there,
 That wery, nygh forsongen were;
 And thrustles, terins, and mavys,
 That songen for to wynne hem prys,
 And eke to sormounte in her song
 That other briddes hem among.
 By note made fair servyse
670 These briddes, that I you devise;
 They songe her song as faire and wel
 As angels don espirituel.
 And trusteth wel, whan I hem herde,
 Ful lustily and wel I ferde,
 For never yitt sich melodye
 Was herd of man that myghte dye.
 Sich swete song was hem among
 That me thought it no briddis song,
 But it was wondir lyk to be
680 Song of mermaydens of the see,
 That, for her syngyng is so clere,
 Though we mermaydens clepe hem here
 In English, as is oure usaunce,
 Men clepe hem sereyns in Fraunce.
 Ententif weren for to synge
 These briddis, that nought unkunnynge
 Were of her craft, and apprentys,
 But of song sotil and wys.
 And certis, whan I herde her song,
690 And saw the grene place among,
 In herte I wex so wondir gay
 That I was never erst, er that day,
 So jolyf nor so wel bigoo,
 Ne merye in herte, as I was thoo.
 And than wist I and saw ful well
 That Ydelnesse me served well,
 That me putte in sich jolite.
 Hir freend wel ought I for to be,
 Sith she the dore of that gardyn
700 Hadde opened and me leten in.
 From hennes forth hou that I wroughte,
 I shal you tellen, as me thoughte.
 First, whereof Myrthe served there,
 And eke what folk there with hym were,
 Withoute fable I wol discryve.
 And of that gardyn eke as blyve
 I wole you tellen aftir this
 The faire fasoun all, ywys,
 That wel wrought was for the nones.
710 I may not telle you all at ones,
 But, as I may and can, I shall
 By ordre tellen you it all.
 Ful fair servise and eke ful swete
 These briddis maden as they sete.
 Layes of love, ful wel sownyng,
 They songen in her jargonyng;
 Summe high and summe eke lowe songe
 Upon the braunches grene spronge.
 The swetnesse of her melodye
720 Made al myn herte in reverye.
 And whan that I hadde herd, I trowe,
 These briddis syngyng on a rowe,
 Than myght I not withholde me
 That I ne wente inne for to see
 Sir Myrthe, for my desiryng
 Was hym to seen, over alle thyng,
 His countenaunce and his manere
 That sighte was to me ful dere.
 Tho wente I forth on my right hond
730 Doun by a lytel path I fond
 Of mentes full, and fenell grene,
 And faste by, without wene,
 Sir Myrthe I fond, and right anoon
 Unto Sir Myrthe gan I goon,
 There as he was hym to solace.
 And with hym in that lusty place
 So fair folk and so fresh had he
 That whan I saw, I wondred me
 Fro whennes siche folk myght come,
740 So faire they weren, alle and some;
 For they were lyk, as to my sighte,
 To angels that ben fethered brighte.
 This folk, of which I telle you soo,
 Upon a karole wenten thoo.
 A lady karolede hem that hyghte
 Gladnesse, [the] blissful and the lighte;
 Wel coude she synge and lustyly,
 Noon half so wel and semely,
 And make in song sich refreynynge:
750 It sat hir wondir wel to synge.
 Hir vois ful clere was and ful swete.
 She was nought rude ne unmete
 But couth. ynow of sich doyng
 As longeth unto karolyng,
 For she was wont in every place
 To syngen first, folk to solace.
 For syngyng moost she gaf hir to;
 No craft had she so leef to do.
 Tho myghtist thou karoles sen,
760 And folk daunce and mery ben,
 And made many a fair tournyng
 Upon the grene gras springyng.
 There myghtist thou see these flowtours,
 Mynstrales, and eke jogelours,
 That wel to synge dide her peyne.
 Somme songe songes of Loreyne,
 For in Loreyn her notes bee
 Full swetter than in this contre.
 There was many a tymbestere,
770 And saillouris, that I dar wel swere
 Couth. her craft ful parfitly.
 The tymbres up ful sotilly
 They caste and hente full ofte
 Upon a fynger fair and softe,
 That they failide never mo.
 Ful fetys damyseles two,
 Ryght yonge and full of semelyhede,
 In kirtles and noon other wede,
 And faire tressed every tresse,
780 Hadde Myrthe doon, for his noblesse,
 Amydde the karole for to daunce;
 But herof lieth no remembraunce,
 Hou that they daunced queyntely.
 That oon wolde come all pryvyly
 Agayn that other, and whan they were
 Togidre almost, they threwe yfere
 Her mouthis so that thorough her play
 It semed as they kiste alway
 To dauncen well koude they the gise.
790 What shulde I more to you devyse?
 Ne bede I never thennes go,
 Whiles that I saw hem daunce so.
 Upon the karoll wonder faste
 I gan biholde, til atte laste
 A lady gan me for to espie,
 And she was cleped Curtesie,
 The worshipfull, the debonaire
 I pray to God evere falle hir faire!
 Ful curteisly she called me:
800 "What do ye there, beau ser?" quod she,
 "Come and, if it lyke you
 To dauncen, dauncith with us now."
 And I, withoute tariyng,
 Wente into the karolyng.
 I was abasshed never a dell,
 But it to me liked right well
 That Curtesie me cleped so
 And bad me on the daunce go.
 For if I hadde durst, certeyn
810 I wolde have karoled right fayn,
 As man that was to daunce right blithe.
 Thanne gan I loken ofte sithe
 The shap, the bodies, and the cheres,
 The countenaunce and the maneres
 Of all the folk that daunced there,
 And I shal telle what they were.
 Ful fair was Myrthe, ful long and high;
 A fairer man I nevere sigh.
 As round as appil was his face,
820 Ful rody and whit in every place.
 Fetys he was and wel beseye,
 With metely mouth and yen greye;
 His nose by mesure wrought ful right;
 Crisp was his heer, and eek ful bright;
 His shuldris of a large brede,
 And smalish in the girdilstede.
 He semed lyk a portreiture,
 So noble he was of his stature,
 So fair, so joly, and so fetys,
830 With lymes wrought at poynt devys,
 Delyver, smert, and of gret myght;
 Ne sawe thou nevere man so lyght.
 Of berd unnethe hadde he nothyng,
 For it was in the firste spryng.
 Ful yong he was, and mery of thought,
 And in samet, with briddis wrought,
 And with gold beten ful fetysly,
 His body was clad ful richely.
 Wrought was his robe in straunge gise,
840 And al toslytered for queyntise
 In many a place, lowe and hie.
 And shod he was with gret maistrie,
 With shoon decoped, and with laas.
 By druery and by solas
 His leef a rosyn chapelet
 Hadde mad, and on his heed it set.
 And wite ye who was his leef?
 Dame Gladnesse there was hym so leef,
 That syngith so wel with glad courage,
850 That from she was twelve yeer of age
 She of hir love graunt hym made.
 Sir Mirthe hir by the fynger hadde
 Daunsyng, and she hym also;
 Gret love was atwixe hem two.
 Bothe were they faire and bright of hewe.
 She semed lyk a rose newe
 Of colour, and hir flesh so tendre
 That with a brere smale and slendre
 Men myght it cleve, I dar wel seyn.
860 Hir forheed, frounceles al pleyn;
 Bente were hir browis two,
 Hir yen greye and glad also,
 That laugheden ay in hir semblaunt
 First or the mouth, by covenaunt.
 I not what of hir nose descryve,
 So fair hath no womman alyve.
 Hir heer was yelowe and clere shynyng;
 I wot no lady so likyng.
 Of orfrays fresh was hir gerland;
870 I, which seyen have a thousand,
 Saugh never, ywys, no gerlond yitt
 So wel wrought of silk as it.
 And in an overgilt samit
 Clad she was, by gret delit,
 Of which hir leef a robe werde
 The myrier she in hir herte ferde.
 And next hir wente, on hir other side,
 The God of Love that can devyde
 Love, and as hym likith it be.
880 But he can cherles daunten, he,
 And maken folkis pride fallen;
 And he can wel these lordis thrallen,
 And ladyes putt at lowe degre,
 Whan he may hem to p[r]oude see.
 This God of Love of his fasoun
 Was lyk no knave ne quystroun;
 His beaute gretly was to pryse.
 But of his robe to devise
 I drede encombred for to be;
890 For nought clad in silk was he,
 But all in floures and in flourettes,
 And with losenges and scochouns,
 With briddes, lybardes, and lyouns,
 And other beestis wrought ful well.
 His garnement was everydell
 Portreied and wrought with floures,
 By dyvers medlyng of coloures.
 Floures there were of many gise
900 Sett by compas in assise.
 Ther lakkide no flour, to my dom,
 Ne nought so mych as flour of brom,
 Ne violete, ne eke pervynke,
 Ne flour noon that man can on thynke;
 And many a rose-leef ful long
 Was entermedled theramong.
 And also on his heed was set
 Of roses reed a chapelett,
 But nyghtyngales, a ful gret route,
910 That flyen over his heed aboute,
 The leeves felden as they flyen.
 And he was all with briddes wryen,
 With popynjay, with nyghtyngale,
 With chalaundre, and with wodewale,
 With fynch, with lark, and with archaungell.
 He semede as he were an aungell
 That doun were comen fro hevene cler.
 Love hadde with hym a bacheler
 That he made alweyes with hym be;
920 Swete-Lokyng cleped was he.
 This bacheler stod biholdyng
 The daunce, and in his hond holdyng
 Turke bowes two had he.
 That oon of hem was of a tree
 That bereth a fruyt of savour wykke;
 Ful crokid was that foule stikke,
 And knotty here and there also,
 And blak as bery or ony slo.
 That other bowe was of a plante
930 Withoute wem, I dar warante,
 Ful evene and by proporcioun
 Treitys and long, of ful good fasoun.
 And it was peynted wel and thwyten,
 And overal diapred and writen
 With ladyes and with bacheleris,
 Ful lyghtsom and glad of cheris.
 These bowes two held Swete-Lokyng,
 That semede lyk no gadelyng.
 And ten brode arowis hild he there,
940 Of which fyve in his right hond were.
 But they were shaven wel and dight,
 Nokked and fethered right,
 And all they were with gold bygoon,
 And stronge poynted everychoon,
 And sharpe for to kerven well.
 But iren was ther noon ne steell,
 For al was gold, men myght it see,
 Out-take the fetheres and the tree.
 The swiftest of these arowis fyve
950 Out of a bowe for to dryve,
 And best fethered for to flee,
 And fairest eke, was clepid Beaute.
 That other arowe, that hurteth lesse,
 Was clepid, as I trowe, Symplesse.
 The thridde cleped was Fraunchise,
 That fethred was in noble wise
 With valour and with curtesye.
 The fourthe was cleped Compaignye,
 That hevy for to sheten ys.
960 But whoso shetith right, ywys,
 May therwith doon gret harm and wo.
 The fifte of these and laste also,
 Faire-Semblaunt men that arowe calle,
 The leeste grevous of hem alle,
 Yit can it make a ful gret wounde.
 But he may hope his soris sounde,
 That hurt is with that arowe, ywys.
 His wo the bet bistowed is,
 For he may sonner have gladnesse
970 His langour oughte be the lesse.
 Five arowis were of other gise,
 That ben ful foule to devyse,
 For shaft and ende, soth for to telle,
 Were also blak as fend in helle.
 The first of hem is called Pride.
 That other arowe next hym biside,
 It was cleped Vylanye;
 That arowe was al with felonye
 Envenymed, and with spitous blame.
980 The thridde of hem was cleped Shame.
 The fourthe Wanhope cleped is.
 The fifte, the Newe-Thought, ywys.
 These arowis that I speke of heere
 Were alle fyve on oon maneere,
 And alle were they resemblable.
 To hem was wel sittyng and able
 The foule croked bowe hidous,
 That knotty was and al roynous.
 That bowe semede wel to shete
990 These arowis fyve that ben unmete
 And contrarye to that other fyve.
 But though I telle not as blyve
 Of her power ne of her myght,
 Herafter shal I tellen right
 The soothe and eke signyfiaunce,
 As fer as I have remembraunce.
 All shal be seid, I undirtake,
 Er of this book an ende I make.
 Now come I to my tale ageyn.
1000 But aldirfirst I wol you seyn
 The fasoun and the countenaunces
 Of all the folk that on the daunce is.
 The God of Love, jolyf and lyght,
 Ladde on his hond a lady bright,
 Of high prys and of gret degre.
 This lady called was Beaute,
 As an arowe, of which I tolde.
 Ful wel thewed was she holde,
 Ne she was derk ne broun, but bright,
1010 And clere as the mone lyght
 Ageyn whom all the sterres semen
 But smale candels, as we demen.
 Hir flesh was tendre as dew of flour,
 Hir chere was symple as byrde in bour,
 As whyt as lylye or rose in rys,
 Hir face, gentyl and tretys.
 Fetys she was, and smal to se;
 No wyndred browis hadde she,
 Ne popped hir, for it neded nought
1020 To wyndre hir or to peynte hir ought.
 Hir tresses yelowe and longe straughten,
 Unto hir helys doun they raughten.
 Hir nose, hir mouth, and eye, and cheke
 Wel wrought, and all the remenaunt eke.
 A ful gret savour and a swote
 Me toucheth in myn herte rote,
 As helpe me God, whan I remembre
 Of the fasoun of every membre.
 In world is noon so fair a wight,
1030 For yong she was, and hewed bright,
 Sore plesaunt, and fetys withall,
 Gente, and in hir myddill small.
 Biside Beaute yede Richesse,
 An high lady of gret noblesse,
 And gret of prys in every place.
 But whoso durste to hir trespace,
 Or til hir folk, in word or dede,
 He were full hardy, out of drede,
 For bothe she helpe and hyndre may.
1040 And that is nought of yisterday
 That riche folk have full gret myght
 To helpe and eke to greve a wyght.
 The beste and the grettest of valour
 Diden Rychesse ful gret honour,
 And besy weren hir to serve,
 For that they wolde hir love deserve:
 They cleped hir lady, gret and small.
 This wide world hir dredith all;
 This world is all in hir daunger.
1050 Hir court hath many a losenger,
 And many a traytour envyous,
 That ben ful besy and curyous
 For to dispreisen and to blame
 That best deserven love and name.
 Bifore the folk, hem to bigilen,
 These losengeris hem preyse and smylen,
 And thus the world with word anoynten;
 And aftirward they prikke and poynten
 The folk right to the bare boon,
1060 Bihynde her bak whan they ben goon,
 And foule abate the folkis prys.
 Ful many a worthy man and wys,
 An hundred, have [they] do to dye.
 These losengers thorough flaterye
 Have made folk ful straunge be,
 There hem oughte be pryve.
 Wel yvel mote they thryve and thee,
 And yvel aryved mote they be,
 These losengers, ful of envye!
1070 No good man loveth her companye.
 Richesse a robe of purpur on hadde
 Ne trowe not that I lye or madde,
 For in this world is noon it lyche,
 Ne by a thousand deell so riche,
 Ne noon so fair; for it ful well
 With orfrays leyd was everydeell,
 And portraied in the ribanynges
 Of dukes storyes, and of kynges,
 And with a bend of gold tasseled,
1080 And knoppis fyne of gold ameled.
 Aboute hir nekke of gentyl entayle
 Was shet the riche chevesaile,
 In which ther was full gret plente
 Of stones clere and bright to see.
 Rychesse a girdell hadde upon,
 The bokel of it was of a stoon
 Of vertu gret and mochel of myght,
 For whoso bar the stoon so bright,
 Of venym durst hym nothing doute,
1090 While he the stoon hadde hym aboute.
 That stoon was gretly for to love,
 And tyl a riche mannes byhove
 Worth all the gold in Rome and Frise.
 The mourdaunt wrought in noble wise
 Was of a stoon full precious,
 That was so fyn and vertuous
 That hol a man it koude make
 Of palasie and toth-ake.
 And yit the stoon hadde such a grace
1100 That he was siker in every place,
 All thilke day, not blynd to ben,
 That fastyng myghte that stoon seen.
 The barres were of gold ful fyn
 Upon a tyssu of satyn,
 Full hevy, gret, and nothyng lyght;
 In everich was a besaunt-wight.
 Upon the tresses of Richesse
 Was sette a cercle, for noblesse,
 Of brend gold that full lyghte shoon;
1110 So fair, trowe I, was never noon.
 But he were kunnyng, for the nonys,
 That koude devyse all the stonys
 That in that cercle shewen clere.
 It is a wondir thing to here,
 For no man koude preyse or gesse
 Of hem the valewe or richesse.
 Rubyes there were, saphires, jagounces,
 And emeraudes, more than two ounces,
 But all byfore, ful sotilly,
1120 A fyn charboncle set saugh I.
 The stoon so clere was and so bright
 That, also soone as it was nyght,
 Men myghte seen to go, for nede,
 A myle or two in lengthe and brede.
 Sich lyght sprang out of the ston
 That Richesse wondir brighte shon,
 Bothe hir heed and all hir face,
 And eke aboute hir al the place.
 Dame Richesse on hir hond gan lede
1130 A yong man ful of semelyhede,
 That she best loved of ony thing.
 His lust was mych in housholding.
 In clothyng was he ful fetys,
 And loved well to have hors of prys.
 He wende to have reproved be
 Of theft or moordre if that he
 Hadde in his stable ony hakeney.
 And therfore he desired ay
 To be aqueynted with Richesse,
1140 For all his purpos, as I gesse,
 Was forto make gret dispense,
 Withoute wernyng or diffense.
 And Richesse myght it wel sustene,
 And hir dispence well mayntene,
 And hym alwey sich plente sende
 Of gold and silver for to spende
 Withoute lakking or daunger,
 As it were poured in a garner.
 And after on the daunce wente
1150 Largesse, that settith al hir entente
 For to be honourable and free.
 Of Alexandres kyn was she.
 Hir most joye was, ywys,
 Whan that she yaf and seide, "Have this."
 Not Avarice, the foule caytyf,
 Was half to gripe so ententyf,
 As Largesse is to yeve and spende;
 And God ynough alwey hir sende,
 So that the more she yaf awey
1160 The more, ywys, she hadde alwey.
 Gret loos hath Largesse and gret pris,
 For bothe [wys] folk and unwys
 Were hooly to hir baundon brought,
 So wel with yiftes hath she wrought.
 And if she hadde an enemy,
 I trowe that she coude tristily
 Make hym full soone hir freend to be,
 So large of yift and free was she.
 Therfore she stod in love and grace
1170 Of riche and pover in every place.
 A full gret fool is he, ywys,
 That bothe riche and nygard is.
 A lord may have no maner vice
 That greveth more than avarice,
 For nygart never with strengthe of hond
 May wynne gret lordship or lond,
 For freendis all to fewe hath he
 To doon his will perfourmed be.
 And whoso wole have freendis heere,
1180 He may not holde his tresour deere.
 For by ensample I telle this:
 Right as an adamaunt, iwys,
 Can drawen to hym sotylly
 The iren that is leid therby,
 So drawith folkes hertis, ywis,
 Silver and gold that yeven is.
 Largesse hadde on a robe fresh
 Of riche purpur Sarsynesh.
 Wel fourmed was hir face and cleer,
1190 And opened hadde she hir coler,
 For she right there hadde in present
 Unto a lady maad present
 Of a gold broche, ful wel wrought.
 And certys, it myssat hir nought,
 For thorough hir smokke, wrought with silk,
 The flesh was seen as whit as mylk.
 Largesse, that worthy was and wys,
 Hild by the hond a knyght of prys,
 Was sib to Artour of Britaigne,
1200 And that was he that bar the ensaigne
 Of worship and the gounfanoun.
 And yit he is of sich renoun
 That men of hym seye faire thynges
 Byfore barouns, erles, and kynges.
 This knyght was comen all newely
 Fro tourneiynge faste by;
 There hadde he don gret chyvalrie
 Thorough his vertu and his maistrie;
 And for the love of his lemman
1210 He caste doun many a doughty man.
 And next hym daunced dame Fraunchise,
 Arayed in full noble gyse.
 She was not broun ne dun of hewe,
 But whit as snow fallen newe.
 Hir nose was wrought at poynt devys,
 For it was gentyl and tretys,
 With eyen gladde, and browes bente.
 Hir heer doun to hir helis wente,
 And she was symple as dowve on tree.
1220 Ful debonaire of herte was she.
 She durst never seyn ne do
 But that that hir longed to;
 And if a man were in distresse,
 And for hir love in hevynesse,
 Hir herte wolde have full gret pite,
 She was so amiable and free.
 For were a man for hir bistad,
 She wolde ben right sore adrad
 That she dide over-gret outrage,
1230 But she hym holpe his harm to aswage;
 Hir thought it elles a vylanye.
 And she hadde on a sukkenye,
 That not of hempene heerdis was
 So fair was noon in all Arras.
 Lord, it was ridled fetysly!
 Ther nas [nat] a poynt, trewely,
 That it nas in his right assise.
 Full wel clothed was Fraunchise,
 For ther is no cloth sittith bet
1240 On damysell than doth roket.
 A womman wel more fetys is
 In roket than in cote, ywis.
 The whyte roket, rydled faire,
 Bitokeneth that full debonaire
 And swete was she that it ber.
 Bi hir daunced a bacheler.
 I can not telle you what he highte,
 But faire he was and of good highte,
 All hadde he be, I sey no more,
1250 The lordis sone of Wyndesore.
 And next that daunced Curtesye,
 That preised was of lowe and hye,
 For neither proud ne fool was she.
 She for to daunce called me
 (I pray God yeve hir right good grace!),
 Whanne I com first into the place.
 She was not nyce ne outrageous,
 But wys and war and vertuous,
 Of fair speche and of fair answere.
1260 Was never wight mysseid of here;
 She bar rancour to no wight.
 Clere broun she was, and therto bright
 Of face, of body avenaunt
 I wot no lady so plesaunt.
 She [were] worthy for to bene
 An emperesse or crowned quene.
 And by hir wente a knyght dauncyng,
 That worthy was and wel spekyng,
 And ful wel koude he don honour.
1270 The knyght was fair and styf in stour,
 And in armure a semely man,
 And wel biloved of his lemman.
 Faire Idilnesse thanne saugh I,
 That alwey was me faste by.
 Of hir have I, withoute fayle,
 Told yow the shap and apparayle;
 For (as I seide) loo, that was she
 That dide to me so gret bounte
 That she the gate of the gardyn
1280 Undide and let me passen in.
 And after daunced, as I gesse,
 [Youthe], fulfilled of lustynesse,
 That nas not yit twelve yeer of age,
 With herte wylde and thought volage.
 Nyce she was, but she ne mente
 Noon harm ne slight in hir entente,
 But oonly lust and jolyte;
 For yonge folk, wel witen ye,
 Have lytel thought but on her play.
1290 Hir lemman was biside alway
 In sich a gise that he hir kyste
 At alle tymes that hym lyste,
 That all the daunce myght it see.
 They make no force of pryvete,
 For who spake of hem yvel or well,
 They were ashamed never a dell,
 But men myght seen hem kisse there
 As it two yonge dowves were.
 For yong was thilke bacheler;
1300 Of beaute wot I noon his per.
 And he was right of sich an age
 As Youthe his leef, and sich corage.
 The lusty folk thus daunced there,
 And also other that with hem were,
 That weren alle of her meyne;
 Ful hende folk and wys and free,
 And folk of faire port, truely,
 There weren alle comunly.
 Whanne I hadde seen the countenaunces
1310 Of hem that ladden thus these daunces,
 Thanne hadde I will to gon and see
 The gardyn that so lyked me,
 And loken on these faire loreres,
 On pyntrees, cedres, and oliveris.
 The daunces thanne eended were,
 For many of them that daunced there
 Were with her loves went awey
 Undir the trees to have her pley.
 A, Lord, they lyved lustyly!
1320 A gret fool were he, sikirly,
 That nolde, his thankes, such lyf lede!
 For this dar I seyn, oute of drede,
 That whoso myghte so wel fare,
 For better lyf durst hym not care;
 For ther nys so good paradys
 As to have a love at his devys.
 Oute of that place wente I thoo,
 And in that gardyn gan I goo,
 Pleyyng along full meryly.
1330 The God of Love full hastely
 Unto hym Swete-Lokyng clepte;
 No lenger wolde he that he kepte
 His bowe of gold, that shoon so bright.
 He bad hym bende [it] anoon ryght,
 And he full soone [it] sette an-ende,
 And at a braid he gan it bende,
 And tok hym of his arowes fyve,
 Full sharp and redy for to dryve.
 Now God, that sittith in mageste,
1340 Fro deedly woundes he kepe me,
 If so be that he hadde me shette!
 For if I with his arowe mette,
 It hadde me greved sore, iwys.
 But I, that nothyng wist of this,
 Wente up and doun full many a wey,
 And he me folwed fast alwey,
 But nowhere wold I reste me,
 Till I hadde in all the gardyn be.
 The gardyn was, by mesuryng,
1350 Right evene and square in compassing:
 It as long was as it was large.
 Of fruyt hadde every tree his charge,
 But it were any hidous tree,
 Of which ther were two or three.
 There were, and that wot I full well,
 Of pome-garnettys a full gret dell;
 That is a fruyt full well to lyke,
 Namely to folk whanne they ben sike.
 And trees there were, gret foisoun,
1360 That baren notes in her sesoun,
 Such as men notemygges calle,
 That swote of savour ben withalle.
 And alemandres gret plente,
 Fyges, and many a date-tree
 There wexen, if men hadde nede,
 Thorough the gardyn in length and brede.
 Ther was eke wexyng many a spice,
 As clowe-gelofre and lycorice,
 Gyngevre and greyn de parys,
1370 Canell and setewale of prys,
 And many a spice delitable
 To eten whan men rise fro table.
 And many homly trees ther were
 That peches, coynes, and apples beere,
 Medlers, plowmes, perys, chesteynes,
 Cherys, of which many oon fayn is,
 Notes, aleys, and bolas,
 That for to seen it was solas.
 With many high lorer and pyn
1380 Was renged clene all that gardyn,
 With cipres and with olyveres,
 Of which that nygh no plente heere is.
 There were elmes grete and stronge,
 Maples, assh, ok, asp, planes longe,
 Fyn ew, popler, and lyndes faire,
 And othere trees full many a payre.
 What shulde I tel you more of it?
 There were so many trees yit,
 That I shulde al encombred be
1390 Er I had rekened every tree.
 These trees were set, that I devyse,
 Oon from another, in assyse,
 Fyve fadome or sixe, I trowe so;
 But they were hye and great also,
 And for to kepe out wel the sonne,
 The croppes were so thicke ronne,
 And every braunche in other knet
 And ful of grene leves set,
 That sonne myght there non discende,
1400 Lest [it] the tender grasses shende.
 There myght men does and roes se,
 And of squyrels ful great plente
 From bowe to bowe alway lepynge.
 Conies there were also playinge,
 That comyn out of her clapers,
 Of sondrie colours and maners,
 And maden many a tourneying
 Upon the fresshe grass spryngyng.
 In places saw I welles there,
1410 In whiche there no frogges were,
 And fayr in shadowe was every welle.
 But I ne can the nombre telle
 Of stremys smal that by devys
 Myrthe had don come through condys,
 Of whiche the water in rennyng
 Gan make a noyse ful lykyng.
 About the brinkes of these welles,
 And by the stremes overal elles,
 Sprang up the grass, as thicke set
1420 And softe as any veluet,
 On which men myght his lemman leye
 As on a fetherbed to pleye,
 For the erthe was ful softe and swete.
 Through moisture of the welle wete
 Sprong up the sote grene gras
 As fayre, as thicke, as myster was.
 But moche amended it the place
 That th' erthe was of such a grace
 That it of floures hath plente,
1430 That bothe in somer and wynter be.
 There sprang the vyolet al newe,
 And fressh pervynke, riche of hewe,
 And floures yelowe, white, and rede
 Such plente grew there never in mede.
 Ful gay was al the ground, and queynt,
 And poudred, as men had it peynt,
 With many a fressh and sondri flour,
 That casten up ful good savour.
 I wol nat longe holde you in fable
1440 Of al this garden dilectable.
 I mot my tonge stynten nede,
 For I ne may, withouten drede,
 Naught tellen you the beaute al,
 Ne half the bounte therewithal.
 I went on right hond and on left
 About the place; it was nat left,
 Tyl I had [in] al the garden ben,
 In the estres that men myghte sen.
 And thus while I wente in my play,
1450 The God of Love me folowed ay,
 Right as an hunter can abyde
 The beest, tyl he seeth his tyde
 To sheten at good mes to the der,
 Whan that hym nedeth go no ner.
 And so befyl, I rested me
 Besydes a wel, under a tree,
 Which tree in Fraunce men cal a pyn.
 But sithe the tyme of Kyng Pepyn,
 Ne grew there tree in mannes syghte
1460 So fayr, ne so wel woxe in highte
 In al that yard so high was non.
 And springyng in a marble ston
 Had Nature set, the sothe to telle,
 Under that pyn-tree a welle.
 And on the border, al withoute,
 Was written in the ston aboute,
 Letters smal that sayden thus,
 "Here starf the fayre Narcisus."
 Narcisus was a bacheler
1470 That Love had caught in his danger,
 And in his net gan hym so strayne,
 And dyd him so to wepe and playne,
 That nede him must his lyf forgo.
 For a fayr lady that hight Echo
 Him loved over any creature,
 And gan for hym such payne endure
 That on a tyme she him tolde
 That if he her loven nolde,
 That her behoved nedes dye;
1480 There laye non other remedye.
 But natheles for his beaute
 So feirs and daungerous was he
 That he nolde graunten hir askyng,
 For wepyng ne for fair praiyng.
 And whanne she herde hym werne [her] soo,
 She hadde in herte so gret woo,
 And took it in so gret dispit,
 That she, withoute more respit,
 Was deed anoon. But er she deide,
1490 Full pitously to God she preide
 That proude-hertid Narcisus,
 That was in love so daungerous,
 Myght on a day ben hampred so
 For love, and ben so hoot for woo,
 That never he myght to joye atteyne,
 And that he shulde feele in every veyne
 What sorowe trewe lovers maken,
 That ben so vilaynsly forsaken.
 This prayer was but resonable;
1500 Therfore God held it ferme and stable.
 For Narcisus, shortly to telle,
 By aventure com to that welle
 To reste hym in that shadowing
 A day whanne he com fro huntyng.
 This Narcisus hadde suffred paynes
 For rennyng alday in the playnes,
 And was for thurst in gret distresse
 Of heet and of his werynesse
 That hadde his breth almost bynomen.
1510 Whanne he was to that welle comen,
 That shadowid was with braunches grene,
 He thoughte of thilke water shene
 To drynke, and fresshe hym wel withalle.
 And doun on knees he gan to falle,
 And forth his heed and necke he straughte
 To drynken of that welle a draughte.
 And in the water anoon was seene
 His nose, his mouth, his yen sheene,
 And he therof was all abasshed.
1520 His owne shadowe had hym bytrasshed,
 For well wende he the forme see
 Of a child of gret beaute.
 Well kouth. Love hym wreke thoo
 Of daunger and of pride also,
 That Narcisus somtyme hym beer.
 He quytte hym well his guerdoun ther,
 For he musede so in the welle
 That, shortly all the sothe to telle,
 He lovede his owne shadowe soo
1530 That atte laste he starf for woo.
 For whanne he saugh that he his wille
 Myght in no maner wey fulfille,
 And that he was so faste caught
 That he hym kouth. comfort nought,
 He loste his wit right in that place,
 And diede withynne a lytel space.
 And thus his warisoun he took
 For the lady that he forsook.
 Ladyes, I preye ensample takith,
1540 Ye that ageyns youre love mistakith,
 For if her deth be yow to wite,
 God kan ful well youre while quyte.
 Whanne that this lettre of which I telle
 Hadde taught me that it was the welle
 Of Narcisus in his beaute,
 I gan anoon withdrawe me,
 Whanne it fel in my remembraunce
 That hym bitidde such myschaunce.
 But at the laste thanne thought I
1550 That scatheles, full sykerly,
 I myght unto the welle goo.
 Wherof shulde I abasshen soo?
 And doun I loutede for to see
 The clere water in the stoon,
 And eke the gravell, which that shoon
 Down in the botme as silver fyn,
 For of the well this is the fyn:
 In world is noon so cler of hewe.
1560 The water is evere fresh and newe,
 That welmeth up with wawis brighte
 The mountance of two fynger highte.
 Abouten it is gras spryngyng,
 For moiste so thikke and wel likyng
 That it ne may in wynter dye
 No more than may the see be drye.
 Down at the botme set saw I
 Two cristall stonys craftely
 In thilke freshe and faire welle.
1570 But o thing sothly dar I telle,
 That ye wole holde a gret mervayle
 Whanne it is told, withouten fayle.
 For whanne the sonne, cler in sighte,
 Cast in that well his bemys brighte,
 And that the heete descendid is,
 Thanne taketh the cristall stoon, ywis,
 Agayn the sonne an hundrid hewis,
 Blew, yelow, and red, that fresh and newe is.
 Yitt hath the merveilous cristall
1580 Such strengthe that the place overall,
 Bothe flour and tree and leves grene
 And all the yerd in it is seene.
 And for to don you to undirstonde,
 To make ensample wole I fonde.
 Ryght as a myrrour openly
 Shewith all thing that stondith therby,
 As well the colour as the figure,
 Withouten ony coverture,
 Right so the cristall stoon shynyng
1590 Withouten ony disseyvyng
 The estrees of the yerd accusith
 To hym that in the water musith.
 For evere, in which half that he be,
 He may well half the gardyn se,
 And if he turne, he may right well
 Sen the remenaunt everydell.
 For ther is noon so litil thyng
 So hid, ne closid with shittyng,
 That it ne is sene, as though it were
1600 Peyntid in the cristall there.
 This is the mirrour perilous
 In which the proude Narcisus
 Saw all his face fair and bright,
 That made hym sithe to ligge upright.
 For whoso loketh in that mirrour,
 Ther may nothyng ben his socour
 That he ne shall there sen somthyng
 That shal hym lede into lovyng.
 Full many worthy man hath it
1610 Blent, for folk of grettist wit
 Ben soone caught heere and awayted;
 Withouten respit ben they baited.
 Heere comth to folk of newe rage;
 Heere chaungith many wight corage;
 Heere lith no red ne wit therto;
 For Venus sone, daun Cupido,
 Hath sowen there of love the seed,
 That help ne lith there noon, ne red,
 So cerclith it the welle aboute.
1620 His gynnes hath he sette withoute,
 Ryght for to cacche in his panters
 These damoysels and bachelers.
 Love will noon other bridde[s] cacche,
 Though he sette either net or lacche.
 And for the seed that heere was sowen,
 This welle is clepid, as well is knowen,
 The Welle of Love, of verray right,
 Of which ther hath ful many a wight
 Spoken in bookis dyversely.
1630 But they shull never so verily
 Descripcioun of the welle heere,
 Ne eke the sothe of this matere,
 As ye shull, whanne I have undo
 The craft that hir bilongith too.
 Allway me liked for to dwelle
 To sen the cristall in the welle
 That shewide me full openly
 A thousand thinges faste by.
 But I may say, in sory houre
1640 Stode I to loken or to poure,
 For sithen [have] I sore siked.
 That mirrour hath me now entriked,
 But hadde I first knowen in my wit
 The vertu and [the] strengthe of it,
 I nolde not have mused there.
 Me hadde bet ben elliswhere,
 For in the snare I fell anoon
 That hath bitrasshed many oon.
 In thilke mirrour saw I tho,
1650 Among a thousand thinges mo,
 A roser chargid full of rosis,
 That with an hegge aboute enclos is.
 Tho had I sich lust and envie,
 That for Parys ne for Pavie
 Nolde I have left to goon and see
 There grettist hep of roses be.
 Whanne I was with this rage hent,
 That caught hath many a man and shent,
 Toward the roser gan I go;
1660 And whanne I was not fer therfro,
 The savour of the roses swote
 Me smot right to the herte-rote,
 As I hadde all enbawmed be.
 And if I ne hadde endouted me
 To have ben hatid or assailed,
 My thankis, wolde I not have failed
 To pulle a rose of all that route
 To beren in myn hond aboute
 And smellen to it where I wente;
1670 But ever I dredde me to repente,
 And lest it grevede or forthoughte
 The lord that thilke gardyn wroughte.
 Of roses ther were gret wone,
 So faire waxe never in rone.
 Of knoppes clos some sawe I there;
 And some wel beter woxen were;
 And some ther ben of other moysoun
 That drowe nygh to her sesoun
 And spedde hem faste for to sprede.
1680 I love well sich roses rede,
 For brode roses and open also
 Ben passed in a day or two,
 But knoppes wille [al] freshe be
 Two dayes, atte leest, or thre.
 The knoppes gretly liked me,
 For fairer may ther no man se.
 Whoso myght have oon of alle,
 It ought hym ben full lief withalle.
 Might I [a] gerlond of hem geten,
1690 For no richesse I wolde it leten.
 Among the knoppes I ches oon
 So fair that of the remenaunt noon
 Ne preise I half so well as it,
 Whanne I avise it in my wit.
 For it so well was enlumyned
 With colour reed, [and] as well fyned
 As nature couth. it make faire.
 And it hath leves wel foure paire,
 That Kynde hath sett, thorough his knowyng,
1700 Aboute the rede roses spryngyng.
 The stalke was as rishe right,
 And theron stod the knoppe upright
 That it ne bowide upon no side.
 The swote smelle sprong so wide
 That it dide all the place aboute

---

The Romaunt of the Rose

Fragment B

 Whanne I hadde smelled the savour swote,
 No will hadde I fro thens yit goo,
 Bot somdell neer it wente I thoo,
 To take it, but myn hond, for drede,
1710 Ne dorste I to the Rose bede
 For thesteles sharpe, of many maneres,
 Netles, thornes, and hokede breres,
 For mych they distourbled me,
 For sore I dradde to harmed be.
 The God of Love, with bowe bent,
 That all day set hadde his talent
 To pursuen and to spien me,
 Was stondyng by a fige-tree.
 And whanne he saw hou that I
1720 Hadde chosen so ententifly
 The botoun, more unto my pay
 Than ony other that I say,
 He tok an arowe full sharply whet,
 And in his bowe whanne it was set,
 He streight up to his ere drough
 The stronge bowe that was so tough,
 And shet att me so wondir smerte
 That thorough myn ye unto myn herte
 The takel smot, and depe it wente.
1730 And therwithall such cold me hente
 That under clothes warme and softe
 Sithen that day I have chevered ofte.
 Whanne I was hurt thus, in [a] stounde
 I felle doun plat unto the grounde.
 Myn herte failed and feynted ay,
 And longe tyme a-swoone I lay.
 But whanne I come out of swonyng,
 And hadde witt and my felyng,
 I was all maat, and wende full well
1740 Of blood have loren a full gret dell.
 But certes, the arowe that in me stod
 Of me ne drew no drope of blod,
 For-why I found my wounde all dreie.
 Thanne tok I with myn hondis tweie
 The arowe, and ful fast out it plighte,
 And in the pullyng sore I sighte.
 So at the last the shaft of tree
 I drough out with the fethers thre.
 But yet the hokede heed, ywis,
1750 The which [that] Beaute callid is,
 Gan so depe in myn herte passe,
 That I it myghte nought arace;
 But in myn herte still it stod,
 Al bledde I not a drope of blod.
 I was bothe anguyssous and trouble
 For the perill that I saw double:
 I nyste what to seye or do,
 Ne gete a leche my woundis to;
 For neithir thurgh gras ne rote
1760 Ne hadde I help of hope ne bote.
 But to the botoun evermo
 Myn herte drew, for all my wo;
 My thought was in noon other thing,
 For hadde it ben in my kepyng,
 It wolde have brought my lyf agayn.
 For certis evenly, I dar wel seyn,
 The sight oonly and the savour
 Alegged mych of my langour.
 Thanne gan I for to drawe me
1770 Toward the botoun faire to se;
 And Love hadde gete hym, in a throwe,
 Another arowe into his bowe,
 And for to shete gan hym dresse.
 The arowis name was Symplesse,
 And whanne that Love gan nygh me nere,
 He drow it up, withouten were,
 And shet at me with all his myght,
 So that this arowe anoon-right
 Thourghout [myn] eigh, as it was founde,
1780 Into myn herte hath maad a wounde.
 Thanne I anoon dide al my craft
 For to drawen out the shaft,
 And therwithall I sighed eft.
 But in myn herte the heed was left,
 Which ay encreside my desir
 Unto the botoun drawe ner;
 And evermo that me was woo,
 The more desir hadde I to goo
 Unto the roser, where that grew
1790 The freysshe botoun so bright of hew.
 Betir me were to have laten be,
 But it bihovede nedes me
 To don right as myn herte bad,
 For evere the body must be lad
 Aftir the herte, in wele and woo;
 Of force togidre they must goo.
 But never this archer wolde feyne
 To shete at me with all his peyne,
 And for to make me to hym mete.
1800 The thridde arowe he gan to shete,
 Whanne best his tyme he myght espie,
 The which was named Curtesie.
 Into myn herte it dide avale;
 A-swoone I fell bothe deed and pale.
 Long tyme I lay and stired nought,
 Till I abraide out of my thought,
 And faste thanne I avysede me
 To drawe out the shaft of tree.
 But evere the heed was left bihynde,
1810 For ought I couth. pulle or wynde,
 So sore it stikid whanne I was hit,
 That by no craft I myght it flit.
 But anguyssous and full of thought,
 I felte sich woo my wounde ay wrought,
 That somonede me alway to goo
 Toward the Rose that plesede me soo,
 But I ne durste in no maner,
 Bicause the archer was so ner.
 "For evermore gladly," as I rede,
1820 "Brent child of fir hath myche drede."
 And, certis yit, for al my peyne,
 Though that I sigh yit arwis reyne,
 And grounde quarels sharpe of steell,
 Ne for no payne that I myght feell,
 Yit myght I not mysilf witholde
 The faire roser to biholde,
 For Love me yaf sich hardement
 For to fulfille his comaundement.
 Upon my fete I ros up than,
1830 Feble as a forwoundid man,
 And forth to gon [my] myght I sette,
 And for the archer nolde I lette.
 Toward the roser fast I drow,
 But thornes sharpe mo than ynow
 Ther were, and also thisteles thikke,
 And breres, brymme for to prikke,
 That I ne myghte gete grace
 The rowe thornes for to passe,
 To sen the roses fresshe of hewe.
1840 I must abide, though it me rewe,
 The hegge aboute so thikke was,
 That closide the roses in compas.
 But o thing lyked me right well:
 I was so nygh, I myghte fel
 Of the botoun the swote odour,
 And also se the fresshe colour,
 And that right gretly liked me,
 That I so neer myghte it se.
 Sich joie anoon therof hadde I
1850 That I forgat my malady.
 To sen I hadde sich delit,
 Of sorwe and angre I was al quyt,
 And of my woundes that I hadde thore;
 For nothing liken me myght more
 Than dwellen by the roser ay,
 And thennes never to passe away.
 But whanne a while I hadde be thar,
 The God of Love, which al toshar
 Myn herte with his arwis kene,
1860 Castith hym to yeve me woundis grene.
 He shet at me full hastily
 An arwe named Company,
 The whiche takell is full able
 To make these ladies merciable.
 Thanne I anoon gan chaungen hewe
 For grevaunce of my wounde newe,
 That I agayn fell in swonyng
 And sighede sore in compleynyng.
 Soore I compleyned that my sore
1870 On me gan greven more and more.
 I hadde noon hope of allegeaunce;
 So nygh I drow to desperaunce,
 I roughte of deth ne of lyf,
 Wheder that Love wolde me dryf.
 Yf me a martir wolde he make,
 I myght his power nought forsake.
 And while for anger thus I wok,
 The God of Love an arowe tok --
 Ful sharp it was and pugnaunt --
1880 And it was callid Faire-Semblaunt,
 The which in no wise wole consente
 That ony lover hym repente
 To serve his love with herte and alle,
 For ony perill that may bifalle.
 But though this arwe was kene grounde
 As ony rasour that is founde,
 To kutte and kerve, at the poynt
 The God of Love it hadde anoynt
 With a precious oynement,
1890 Somdell to yeve aleggement
 Upon the woundes that he had
 To helpe her sores, and to cure,
 And that they may the bet endure.
 But yit this arwe, withoute more,
 Made in myn herte a large sore,
 That in full gret peyne I abod.
 But ay the oynement wente abrod;
 Thourghout my woundes large and wide
1900 It spredde aboute in every side,
 Thorough whos vertu and whos myght
 Myn herte joyfull was and light.
 I hadde ben deed and al toshent,
 But for the precious oynement.
 The shaft I drow out of the arwe,
 Rokyng for wo right wondir narwe;
 But the heed, which made me smerte,
 Lefte bihynde in myn herte
 With other foure, I dar wel say,
1910 That never wole be take away.
 But the oynement halp me wel,
 And yit sich sorwe dide I fel
 That al day I chaunged hewe
 Of my woundes fresshe and newe,
 As men myght se in my visage.
 The arwis were so full of rage,
 So variaunt of diversitee,
 That men in everich myghte se
 Bothe gret anoy and eke swetnesse,
1920 And joie meynt with bittirnesse.
 Now were they esy, now were they wod;
 In hem I felte bothe harm and good;
 Now sore without alleggement,
 Now softenyng with oynement;
 It softnede heere and prikkith there:
 Thus ese and anger togidre were.
 The God of Love delyverly
 Com lepande to me hastily,
 And seide to me in gret rape,
1930 "Yeld thee, for thou may not escape!
 May no defence availe thee heer;
 Therfore I rede make no daunger.
 If thou wolt yelde thee hastily,
 Thou shalt rather have mercy.
 He is a fool in sikernesse,
 That with daunger or stoutnesse
 Rebellith there that he shulde plese;
 In sich folye is litel ese.
 Be meke where thou must nedis bow;
1940 To stryve ageyn is nought thi prow.
 Com at oones, and have ydoo,
 For I wol that it be soo.
 Thanne yeld thee heere debonairly."
 And I answerid ful hombly,
 "Gladly, sir, at youre biddyng,
 I wole me yelde in alle thyng.
 To youre servyse I wol me take,
 For God defende that I shulde make
 Ageyn youre biddyng resistence.
1950 I wole not don so gret offence,
 For if I dide, it were no skile.
 Ye may do with me what ye wile,
 Save or spille, and also sloo.
 Fro you in no wise may I goo.
 My lyf, my deth is in youre hond;
 I may not laste out of youre bond.
 Pleyn at youre lyst I yelde me,
 Hopyng in herte that sumtyme ye
 Comfort and ese shull me sende;
1960 Or ellis, shortly, this is the eende,
 Withouten helthe I mot ay dure,
 But if ye take me to youre cure.
 Comfort or helthe how shuld I have,
 Sith ye me hurt, but ye me save?
 The helthe of love mot be founde
 Where as they token first her wounde.
 And if ye lyst of me to make
 Youre prisoner, I wol it take
 Of herte and will, fully at gree.
1970 Hoolly and pleyn Y yelde me,
 Withoute feynyng or feyntise,
 To be governed by youre emprise.
 Of you I here so myche pris,
 I wole ben hool at youre devis
 For to fulfille youre lykyng
 And repente for nothyng,
 Hopyng to have yit in som tide
 Mercy of that I abide."
 And with that covenaunt yelde I me
1980 Anoon, down knelyng upon my kne,
 Proferyng for to kisse his feet;
 But for nothyng he wolde [me] let,
 And seide, "I love thee bothe and preise,
 Sen that thyn aunswar doth me ease,
 For thou answerid so curteisly.
 For now I wot wel uttirly
 That thou art gentyll by thi speche.
 For though a man fer wolde seche,
 He shulde not fynden, in certeyn,
1990 No sich answer of no vileyn;
 For sich a word ne myghte nought
 Isse out of a vilayns thought.
 Thou shalt not lesen of thi speche,
 For [to] thy helpyng wole I eche,
 And eke encresen that I may.
 But first I wole that thou obay
 Fully, for thyn avauntage,
 Anoon to do me heere homage.
 And sithe kisse thou shalt my mouth,
2000 Which to no vilayn was never couth
 For to aproche it, ne for to touche;
 For sauff of cherlis I ne vouche
 That they shull never neigh it nere.
 For curteis and of faire manere,
 Well taught and ful of gentilnesse
 He muste ben that shal me kysse,
 And also of full high fraunchise,
 That shal atteyne to that emprise.
 And first of o thing warne I thee,
2010 That peyne and gret adversite
 He mot endure, and eke travaile,
 That shal me serve, withouten faile.
 But ther-ageyns thee to comforte,
 And with thi servise to desporte,
 Thou mayst full glad and joyfull be
 So good a maister to have as me,
 And lord of so high renoun.
 I bere of love the gonfanoun,
 Of curtesie the banere.
2020 For I am of the silf manere,
 Gentil, curteys, meke, and fre,
 That whoever ententyf be
 Me to honoure, doute, and serve,
 And also that he hym observe
 Fro trespas and fro vilanye,
 And hym governe in curtesie
 With will and with entencioun.
 For whanne he first in my prisoun
 Is caught, thanne must he uttirly
2030 Fro thennes forth full bisily
 Caste hym gentyll for to bee,
 If he desire help of me."
 Anoon withouten more delay,
 Withouten daunger or affray,
 I bicom his man anoon,
 And gaf hym thankes many a oon,
 And knelide doun with hondis joynt
 And made it in my port full queynt.
 The joye wente to myn herte rote,
2040 Whanne I hadde kissed his mouth so swote;
 I hadde sich myrthe and sich likyng,
 It cured me of langwisshing.
 He askide of me thanne hostages:
 "I have," he seide, "taken fele homages
 Of oon and other, where I have ben
 Disceyved ofte, withouten wen.
 These felouns, full of falsite,
 Have many sithes biguyled me
 And thorough falshed her lust achieved,
2050 Wherof I repente and am agreved.
 And I hem gete in my daunger,
 Her falshede shull they bie full der.
 But for I love thee, I seie thee pleyn,
 I wol of thee be more certeyn;
 For thee so sore I wole now bynde
 That thou away ne shalt not wynde
 For to denyen the covenaunt,
 Or don that is not avenaunt.
 That thou were fals it were gret reuthe,
2060 Sith thou semest so full of treuthe."
 "Sire, if thee lyst to undirstande,
 I merveile the askyng this demande.
 For why or wherfore shulde ye
 Ostages or borwis aske of me,
 Or ony other sikirnesse,
 Sith ye wot, in sothfastnesse,
 That ye have me susprised so,
 And hol myn herte taken me fro,
 That it wole do for me nothing,
2070 But if it be at youre biddyng?
 Myn herte is youres, and myn right nought,
 As it bihoveth, in dede and thought,
 Redy in all to worche youre will,
 Whether so turne to good or ill,
 So sore it lustith you to plese,
 No man therof may you disseise.
 Ye have theron sette sich justice,
 That it is werreid in many wise;
 And if ye doute it nolde obeye,
2080 Ye may therof do make a keye,
 And holde it with you for ostage."
 "Now, certis, this is noon outrage,"
 Quod Love, "and fully I acord.
 For of the body he is full lord
 That hath the herte in his tresor;
 Outrage it were to asken more."
 Thanne of his awmener he drough
 A litell keye, fetys ynowgh,
 Which was of gold polisshed clere,
2090 And seide to me, "With this keye heere
 Thyn herte to me now wole I shette.
 For all my jowelles, loke and knette,
 I bynde undir this litel keye,
 That no wight may carie aweye.
 This keye is full of gret poeste."
 With which anoon he touchide me
 Undir the side full softely,
 That he myn herte sodeynly
 Without anoy hadde spered,
2100 That yit right nought it hath me dered.
 Whanne he hadde don his will al oute,
 And I hadde putte hym out of doute,
 "Sire," I seide, "I have right gret wille
 Youre lust and plesaunce to fulfille.
 Loke ye my servise take at gree,
 By thilke feith ye owe to me.
 I seye nought for recreaundise,
 For I nought doute of youre servise,
 But the servaunt traveileth in vayne,
2110 That for to serven doth his payne
 Unto that lord, which in no wise
 Kan hym no thank for his servyse."
 Love seide, "Dismaie thee nought.
 Syn thou for sokour hast me sought,
 In thank thi servise wol I take,
 And high of degre I wol thee make,
 If wikkidnesse ne hyndre thee.
 But, as I hope, it shal nought be;
 To worshipe no wight by aventure
2120 May come, but if he peyne endure.
 Abid and suffre thy distresse;
 That hurtith now, it shal be lesse.
 I wot mysilf what may thee save,
 What medicyne thou woldist have.
 And if thi trouthe to me thou kepe,
 I shal unto thy helpyng eke,
 To cure thy woundes and make hem clene,
 Where so they be olde or grene --
 Thou shalt be holpen, at wordis fewe.
2130 For certeynly thou shalt well shewe
 Wher that thou servest with good wille
 For to complysshen and fulfille
 My comaundementis, day and nyght,
 Whiche I to lovers yeve of right."
 "A sire, for Goddis love," seide I,
 "Er ye passe hens, ententyfly
 Youre comaundementis to me ye say,
 And I shall kepe hem, if I may;
 For hem to kepen is all my thought.
2140 And if so be I wot hem nought,
 Thanne may I [erre] unwityngly.
 Wherfore I pray you enterely,
 With all myn herte, me to lere,
 That I trespasse in no manere."
 The God of Love thanne chargide me
 Anoon, as ye shall here and see,
 Word by word, by right emprise,
 So as the Romance shall devise.
 The maister lesith his tyme to lere,
2150 Whanne that the disciple wol not here;
 It is but veyn on hym to swynke
 That on his lernyng wol not thinke.
 Whoso luste love, lat hym entende,
 For now the Romance bigynneth to amende.
 Now is good to here, in fay,
 If ony be that can it say,
 And poynte it as the resoun is
 Set; for other-gate, ywys,
 It shall nought well in alle thyng
2160 Be brought to good undirstondyng.
 For a reder that poyntith ille
 A good sentence may ofte spille.
 The book is good at the eendyng,
 Maad of newe and lusty thyng;
 For whoso wol the eendyng here,
 The craft of love he shall mowe lere,
 If that ye wol so long abide,
 Tyl I this Romance may unhide,
 And undo the signifiance
2170 Of this drem into Romance.
 The sothfastnesse that now is hid,
 Without coverture shall be kid
 Whanne I undon have this dremyng,
 Wherynne no word is of lesyng.
 "Vilanye, at the bigynnyng,
 I wole," sayde Love, "over alle thyng,
 Thou leve if thou wolt [not] be
 Fals, and trespasse ageynes me.
 I curse and blame generaly
2180 All hem that loven vilany,
 For vilanye makith vilayn,
 And by his dedis a cherl is seyn.
 Thise vilayns arn withouten pitee,
 Frendshipe, love, and all bounte.
 I nyl resseyve unto my servise
 Hem that ben vilayns of emprise.
 But undirstonde in thyn entent
 That this is not myn entendement,
 To clepe no wight in noo ages
2190 Oonly gentill for his lynages.
 But whoso is vertuous,
 And in his port nought outrageous,
 Whanne sich oon thou seest thee biforn,
 Though he be not gentill born,
 Thou maist well seyn, this is in soth,
 That he is gentil by cause he doth
 As longeth to a gentilman;
 Of hem noon other deme I can.
 For certeynly, withouten drede,
2200 A cherl is demed by his dede
 Of hie or lowe, as we may see,
 Or of what kynrede that he bee.
 Ne say nought, for noon yvel wille,
 Thyng that is to holden stille;
 It is no worshipe to myssey.
 Thou maist ensample take of Key,
 That was somtyme, for mysseiyng,
 Hated bothe of olde and ying.
 As fer as Gaweyn, the worthy,
2210 Was preised for his curtesy,
 Kay was hated, for he was fell,
 Of word dispitous and cruell.
 Wherfore be wise and aqueyntable,
 Goodly of word, and resonable
 Bothe to lesse and eke to mare.
 And whanne thou comest there men are,
 Loke that thou have in custome ay
 First to salue hem, if thou may;
 And if it fall that of hem som
2220 Salue thee first, be not domm,
 But quyte hem curteisly anoon,
 Without abidyng, er they goon.
 "For nothyng eke thy tunge applye
 To speke wordis of rebaudrye.
 To vilayn speche in no degre
 Lat never thi lippe unbounden be.
 For I nought holde hym, in good feith,
 Curteys, that foule wordis seith.
 And alle wymmen serve and preise,
2230 And to thy power her honour reise;
 And if that ony myssaiere
 Dispise wymmen, that thou maist here,
 Blame hym, and bidde hym holde hym stille.
 And [set] thy myght and all thy wille
 Wymmen and ladies for to please,
 And to do thyng that may hem ese,
 That they ever speke good of thee,
 For so thou maist best preised be.
 "Loke fro pride thou kepe thee wel;
2240 For thou maist bothe perceyve and fel
 That pride is bothe foly and synne,
 And he that pride hath hym withynne
 Ne may his herte in no wise
 Meken ne souplen to servyse.
 For pride is founde in every part
 Contrarie unto loves art.
 And he that loveth, trewely,
 Shulde hym contene jolily
 Without pride in sondry wise,
2250 And hym disgysen in queyntise.
 For queynt array, without drede,
 Is nothyng proud, who takith hede;
 For fresh array, as men may see,
 Withouten pride may ofte be.
 "Mayntene thysilf aftir thi rent
 Of robe and eke of garnement,
 For many sithe fair clothyng
 A man amendith in myche thyng.
 And loke alwey that they be shape --
2260 What garnement that thou shalt make --
 Of hym that kan best do,
 With all that perteyneth therto.
 Poyntis and sleves be well sittand,
 Right and streght on the hand.
 Of shon and bootes, newe and faire,
 Loke at the leest thou have a paire,
 And that they sitte so fetisly
 That these rude may uttirly
 Merveyle, sith that they sitte so pleyn,
2270 How they come on or off ageyn.
 Were streite gloves with awmenere
 Of silk; and alwey with good chere
 Thou yeve, if thou have richesse;
 And if thou have nought, spende the lesse.
 Alwey be mery, if thou may,
 But waste not thi good alway.
 Have hat of floures as fresh as May,
 Chapelett of roses of Whitsonday,
 For sich array ne costeth but lite.
2280 Thyn hondis wassh, thy teeth make white,
 And let no filthe upon thee bee.
 Thy nailes blak if thou maist see,
 Voide it awey delyverly,
 And kembe thyn heed right jolily.
 Fard not thi visage in no wise,
 For that of love is not th' emprise;
 For love doth haten, as I fynde,
 A beaute that cometh not of kynde.
 Alwey in herte I rede thee
2290 Glad and mery for to be,
 And be as joyfull as thou can;
 Love hath no joye of sorowful man.
 That yvell is full of curtesie
 That laughith in his maladie;
 For ever of love the siknesse
 Is meynd with swete and bitternesse.
 The sore of love is merveilous;
 For now the lover [is. joyous,
 Now can he pleyne, now can he grone,
2300 Now can he syngen, now maken mone;
 To-day he pleyneth for hevynesse,
 To-morowe he pleyeth for jolynesse.
 The lyf of love is full contrarie,
 Which stoundemele can ofte varie.
 But if thou canst mirthis make,
 That men in gre wole gladly take,
 Do it goodly, I comaunde thee.
 For men shulde, wheresoevere they be,
 Do thing that hem sittyng is,
2310 For therof cometh good loos and pris.
 Whereof that thou be vertuous,
 Ne be not straunge ne daungerous;
 For if that thou good ridere be,
 Prike gladly, that men may se.
 In armes also if thou konne,
 Pursue til thou a name hast wonne.
 And if thi voice be faire and cler,
 Thou shalt maken [no] gret daunger
 Whanne to synge they goodly preye --
2320 It is thi worship for t' obeye.
 Also to you it longith ay
 To harpe and gitterne, daunce and play,
 For if he can wel foote and daunce,
 It may hym greetly do avaunce.
 Among eke, for thy lady sake,
 Songes and complayntes that thou make,
 For that wole meven in hir herte,
 Whanne they reden of thy smerte.
 Loke that no man for scarce thee holde,
2330 For that may greve thee many folde.
 Resoun wole that a lover be
 In his yiftes more large and fre
 Than cherles that ben not of lovyng.
 For who therof can ony thyng,
 He shal be leef ay for to yeve,
 In Loves lore whoso wolde leve;
 For he that thorough a sodeyn sight,
 Or for a kyssyng, anoonright
 Yaff hool his herte in will and thought,
2340 And to hymsilf kepith right nought,
 Aftir [swich] [gift] it is good resoun
 He yeve his good in abandoun.
 "Now wol I shortly heere reherce
 Of that I have seid in verce
 Al the sentence by and by,
 In wordis fewe compendiously,
 That thou the better mayst on hem thynke,
 Whether so it be thou wake or wynke.
 For the wordis litel greve
2350 A man to kepe, whanne it is breve.
 Whoso with Love wole goon or ride,
 He mot be curteis, and voide of pride,
 Mery, and full of jolite,
 And of largesse alosed be.
 "First I joyne thee, heere in penaunce,
 That evere, withoute repentaunce,
 Thou sette thy thought in thy lovyng
 To laste withoute repentyng,
 And thenke upon thi myrthis swete,
2360 That shall folowe aftir, whan ye mete.
 "And for thou trewe to love shalt be,
 I wole, and comaunde thee,
 That in oo place thou sette, all hool,
 Thyn herte withoute halfen dool
 Of trecherie and sikernesse;
 For I lovede nevere doublenesse.
 To many his herte that wole depart,
 Everich shal have but litel part;
 But of hym drede I me right nought,
2370 That in oo place settith his thought.
 Therfore in oo place it sette,
 And lat it nevere thannys flette.
 For if thou yevest it in lenyng,
 I holde it but a wrecchid thyng;
 Therfore yeve it hool and quyt,
 And thou shalt have the more merit.
 If it be lent, than aftir soon
 The bounte and the thank is doon;
 But, in love, fre yeven thing
2380 Requyrith a gret guerdonyng.
 Yeve it in yift al quyt fully,
 And make thi yift debonairly,
 For men that yift holde more dere
 That yeven [is. with gladsom chere.
 That yift nought to preisen is
 That man yeveth maugre his.
 Whanne thou hast yeven thyn herte, as I
 Have seid thee heere openly,
 Thanne aventures shull thee falle,
2390 Which harde and hevy ben withalle.
 For ofte whan thou bithenkist thee
 Of thy lovyng, whereso thou be,
 Fro folk thou must departe in hie,
 That noon perceyve thi maladie.
 But hyde thyne harm thou must alone,
 And go forth sool, and make thy mone.
 Thou shalt no whyle be in o stat,
 But whylom cold and whilom hat,
 Now reed as rose, now yelowe and fade.
2400 Such sorowe, I trowe, thou never hade;
 Cotidien ne quarteyne,
 It is nat so ful of peyne.
 For often tymes it shal falle
 In love, among thy paynes alle,
 That thou thyself al holly
 Foryeten shalt so utterly
 That many tymes thou shalt be
 Styl as an ymage of tree,
 Domm as a ston, without steryng
2410 Of fot or hond, without spekyng.
 Than, soone after al thy payn,
 To memorye shalt thou come agayn,
 As man abasshed wonder sore,
 And after syghen more and more.
 For wyt thou wel, withouten wen,
 In such astat ful ofte have ben
 That have the yvel of love assayd
 Wherthrough thou art so dismayd.
 "After, a thought shal take the so,
2420 That thy love is to fer the fro.
 Thou shalt saye, `God! what may this be,
 That I ne may my lady se?
 Myn herte alone is to her go,
 And I abyde al sol in wo,
 Departed fro myn owne thought,
 And with myne eyen se right nought.
 Alas, myne eyen sende I ne may
 My careful herte to convay!
 Myn hertes gyde but they be,
2430 I prayse nothyng, whatever they se.
 Shul they abyde thanne? Nay;
 But gon and visyten without delay
 That myn herte desyreth so.
 For certainly, but if they go,
 A fool myself I may wel holde,
 Whan I ne se what myn herte wolde.
 Wherfore I wol gon her to sen,
 Or eased shal I never ben,
 But I have som tokenyng.'
2440 Than gost thou forth without dwellyng;
 But ofte thou faylest of thy desyr,
 Er thou mayst come her any ner,
 And wastest in vayn thi passage.
 Thanne fallest thou in a newe rage;
 For want of sight thou gynnest morne,
 And homward pensyf thou dost retorne.
 In greet myscheef thanne shalt thou bee,
 For thanne agayn shall come to thee
 Sighes and pleyntes with newe woo,
2450 That no ycchyng prikketh soo.
 Who wot it nought, he may go lere
 Of hem that bien love so dere.
 "Nothyng thyn herte appesen may
 That ofte thou wolt goon and assay
 If thou maist seen, by aventure,
 Thi lyves joy, thin hertis cure;
 So that, bi grace, if thou myght
 Atteyne of hire to have a sight,
 Thanne shalt thou don noon other dede,
2460 But with that sight thyne eyen fede.
 That faire fresh whanne thou maist see,
 Thyne herte shall so ravysshed be
 That nevere thou woldest, thi thankis, lete,
 Ne remove for to see that swete.
 The more thou seest in sothfastnesse,
 The more thou coveytest of that swetnesse;
 The more thin herte brenneth in fir,
 The more thin herte is in desir.
 For who considreth everydeell,
2470 It may be likned wondir well,
 The peyne of love, unto a fer;
 For evermore thou neighest ner,
 Thou, or whooso that it bee,
 For verray sothe I tell it thee,
 The hatter evere shall thou brenne,
 As experience shall thee kenne:
 Whereso [thou] comest in ony coost,
 Who is next fyr, he brenneth moost.
 And yitt forsothe, for all thin hete,
2480 Though thou for love swelte and swete,
 Ne for nothyng thou felen may,
 Thou shalt not willen to passen away.
 And though thou go, yitt must thee nede
 Thenke all day on hir fairhede
 Whom thou biheelde with so good will,
 And holde thisilf biguyled ill
 That thou ne haddest noon hardement
 To shewe hir ought of thyn entent.
 Thyn herte full sore thou wolt dispise,
2490 And eke repreve of cowardise,
 That thou, so dul in every thing,
 Were domm for drede, withoute spekyng.
 Thou shalt eke thenke thou didest folye
 That thou were hir so faste bye,
 And durst not auntre thee to saye
 Somthyng er thou cam awaye;
 For thou haddist no more wonne,
 To speke of hir whanne thou bigonne.
 But yitt she wolde, for thy sake,
2500 In armes goodly thee have take --
 It shulde have be more worth to thee
 Than of tresour gret plente.
 Thus shalt thou morne and eke compleyn,
 And gete enchesoun to goon ageyn
 Unto thi walk, or to thi place
 Where thou biheelde hir fleshly face.
 And never, for fals suspeccioun,
 Thou woldest fynde occasioun
 For to gon unto hire hous.
2510 So art thou thanne desirous
 A sight of hir for to have,
 If thou thin honour myghtist save,
 Or ony erande myghtist make
 Thider for thi loves sake,
 Full fayn thou woldist, but for drede
 Thou gost not, lest that men take hede.
 Wherfore I rede, in thi goyng,
 And also in thyn ageyn-comyng,
 Thou be well war that men ne wit.
2520 Feyne thee other cause than it
 To go that weye, or faste by;
 To hele wel is no foly.
 And if so be it happe thee
 That thou thi love there maist see,
 In siker wise thou hir salewe,
 Wherewith thi colour wole transmewe,
 And eke thy blod shal al toquake,
 Thyn hewe eke chaungen for hir sake.
 But word and wit, with chere full pale,
2530 Shull wante for to tell thy tale.
 And if thou maist so fer forth wynne
 That thou resoun durst bigynne,
 And woldist seyn thre thingis or mo,
 Thou shalt full scarsly seyn the two.
 Though thou bithenke thee never so well,
 Thou shalt foryete yit somdell,
 But if thou dele with trecherie.
 For fals lovers mowe all folye
 Seyn, what hem lust, withouten drede,
2540 They be so double in her falshede;
 For they in herte cunne thenke a thyng,
 And seyn another in her spekyng.
 And whanne thi speche is eendid all,
 Ryght thus to thee it shall byfall:
 If ony word thanne come to mynde
 That thou to seye hast left bihynde,
 Thanne thou shalt brenne in gret martir,
 For thou shalt brenne as ony fir.
 This is the stryf and eke the affray,
2550 And the batell that lastith ay.
 This bargeyn eende may never take,
 But if that she thi pees will make.
 And whanne the nyght is comen, anoon
 A thousand angres shall come uppon.
 To bedde as fast thou wolt thee dight,
 Where thou shalt have but smal delit.
 For whanne thou wenest for to slepe,
 So full of peyne shalt thou crepe,
 Sterte in thi bed aboute full wide,
2560 And turne full ofte on every side,
 Now dounward groff and now upright,
 And walowe in woo the longe nyght.
 Thine armys shalt thou sprede a-bred,
 As man in werre were forwerreyd.
 Thanne shall thee come a remembraunce
 Of hir shap and hir semblaunce,
 Whereto non other may be pere.
 And wite thou wel, withoute were,
 That thee shal se[me] somtyme that nyght
2570 That thou hast hir that is so bright
 Naked bitwene thyne armes there,
 All sothfastnesse as though it were.
 Thou shalt make castels thanne in Spayne
 And dreme of joye, all but in vayne,
 And thee deliten of right nought,
 While thou so slombrest in that thought
 That is so swete and delitable,
 The which, in soth, nys but fable,
 For it ne shall no while laste.
2580 Thanne shalt thou sighe and wepe faste,
 And say, `Dere God, what thing is this?
 My drem is turned all amys,
 Which was full swete and apparent;
 But now I wake, it is al shent!
 Now yede this mery thought away!
 Twenty tymes upon a day
 I wolde this thought wolde come ageyn,
 For it aleggith well my peyn.
 It makith me full of joyfull thought;
2590 It sleth me, that it lastith noght.
 A, Lord! Why nyl ye me socoure
 The joye, I trowe, that I langoure?
 The deth I wolde me shulde sloo
 While I lye in hir armes twoo.
 Myn harm is hard, withouten wene;
 My gret unese full ofte I meene.
 "`But wolde Love do so I myght
 Have fully joye of hir so bright,
 My peyne were quyt me rychely.
2600 Allas, to gret a thing aske I!
 Hit is but foly and wrong wenyng
 To aske so outrageous a thyng;
 And whoso askith folily,
 He mot be warned hastily.
 And I ne wot what I may say,
 I am so fer out of the way;
 For I wolde have full gret likyng
 And full gret joye of lasse thing.
 For wolde she, of hir gentylnesse,
2610 Without and more, me oonys kysse,
 It were to me a gret guerdoun,
 Relees of all my passioun.
 But it is hard to come therto;
 All is but folye that I do,
 So high I have myn herte set,
 Where I may no comfort get.
 I wote not wher I seye well or nought,
 But this I wot wel in my thought,
 That it were better of hir alloone,
2620 For to stynte my woo and moone,
 A lok on hir I caste goodly,
 Than for to have al utterly
 Of an other all hool the pley.
 A, Lord! Wher I shall byde the day
 That evere she shall my lady be?
 He is full cured that may hir see.
 A, God! Whanne shal the dawnyng spring?
 To liggen thus is an angry thyng;
 I have no joye thus heere to ly,
2630 Whanne that my love is not me by.
 A man to lyen hath gret disese,
 Which may not slepe ne reste in ese.
 I wolde it dawed, and were now day,
 And that the nyght were went away;
 For were it day, I wolde uprise.
 A, slowe sonne, shewe thin enprise!
 Sped thee to sprede thy beemys bright,
 And chace the derknesse of the nyght,
 To putte away the stoundes stronge,
2640 Whiche in me lasten all to longe.'
 "The nyght shalt thou contene soo
 Withoute rest, in peyne and woo.
 If evere thou knewe of love distresse,
 Thou shalt mowe lerne in that siknesse,
 And thus enduryng shalt thou ly,
 And ryse on morwe up erly
 Out of thy bedde, and harneyse thee,
 Er evere dawnyng thou maist see.
 All pryvyly thanne shalt thou goon,
2650 What weder it be, thisilf alloon,
 For reyn or hayl, for snow, for slet,
 Thider she dwellith that is so swet,
 The which may fall a-slepe be,
 And thenkith but lytel upon thee.
 Thanne shalt thou goon, ful foule afeered,
 Loke if the gate be unspered,
 And waite without in woo and peyn,
 Full yvel a-coold, in wynd and reyn.
 Thanne shal thou go the dore bifore,
2660 If thou maist fynde ony score,
 Or hool, or reeft, whatevere it were;
 Thanne shalt thou stoupe and lay to ere,
 If they withynne a-slepe be --
 I mene all save the lady free,
 Whom wakyng if thou maist aspie,
 Go putte thisilf in jupartie
 To aske grace, and thee bimene,
 That she may wite, without wene,
 That thou [a-]nyght no rest hast had,
2670 So sore for hir thou were bystad.
 Wommen wel ought pite to take
 Of hem that sorwen for her sake.
 And loke, for love of that relyk,
 That thou thenke noon other lyk,
 For whom thou hast so gret annoy,
 Shall kysse thee, er thou go away,
 And holde that in full gret deynte.
 And for that no man shal thee see
 Bifore the hous ne in the way,
2680 Loke thou be goon ageyn er day.
 Such comyng and such goyng,
 Such hevynesse and such wakyng,
 Makith lovers, withouten ony wene,
 Under her clothes pale and lene.
 For Love leveth colour ne cleernesse;
 Who loveth trewe hath no fatnesse.
 Thou shalt wel by thysilf see
 That thou must nedis assayed be.
 For men that shape hem other wey
2690 Falsly her ladyes for to bitray,
 It is no wonder though they be fatt;
 With false othes her loves they gatt.
 For oft I see suche losengours
 Fatter than abbatis or priours.
 "Yit with o thing I thee charge,
 That is to seye, that thou be large
 Unto the mayde that hir doth serve,
 So best hir thank thou shalt deserve.
 Yeve hir yiftes, and get hir grace,
2700 For so thou may thank purchace,
 That she thee worthy holde and free,
 Thi lady, and all that may thee see.
 Also hir servauntes worshipe ay,
 And please as mych as thou may;
 Gret good thorough hem may come to thee
 Bicause with hir they ben pryve.
 They shal hir telle hou they thee fand
 Curteis, and wys, and well doand,
 And she shall preise well the mare.
2710 Loke oute of londe thou be not fare,
 And if such cause thou have that thee
 Bihoveth to gon out of contree,
 Leve hool thin herte in hostage,
 Till thou ageyn make thi passage.
 Thenk long to see the swete thyng
 That hath thin herte in hir kepyng.
 "Now have I told thee in what wise
 A lovere shall do me servise.
 Do it thanne, if thou wolt have
2720 The meede that thou aftir crave."
 Whanne Love all this hadde boden me,
 I seide hym: "Sire, how may it be
 That lovers may in such manere
 Endure the peyne ye have seid heere?
 I merveyle me wonder faste
 How ony man may lyve or laste
 In such peyne and such brennyng,
 In sorwe and thought and such sighing,
 Ay unrelesed woo to make,
2730 Whether so it be they slepe or wake,
 In such annoy contynuely --
 As helpe me God, this merveile I
 How man, but he were maad of stele,
 Myght lyve a month, such peynes to fele."
 The God of Love thanne seide me:
 "Freend, by the feith I owe to thee,
 May no man have good, but he it by.
 A man loveth more tendirly
 The thyng that he hath bought most dere.
2740 For wite thou well, withouten were,
 In thank that thyng is taken more,
 For which a man hath suffred sore.
 Certis, no wo ne may atteyne
 Unto the sore of loves peyne;
 Noon yvel therto ne may amounte,
 No more than a man [may] counte
 The dropes that of the water be.
 For drye as well the greete see
 Thou myghtist as the harmes telle
2750 Of hem that with love dwelle
 In servyse, for peyne hem sleeth.
 And yet ech man wolde fle the deeth,
 And trowe thei shulde nevere escape,
 Nere that hope couth. hem make
 Glad, as man in prisoun sett,
 And may not geten for to et
 But barly breed and watir pure,
 And lyeth in vermyn and in ordure;
 With all this yitt can he lyve,
2760 Good hope such comfort hath hym yive,
 Which maketh wene that he shall be
 Delyvered, and come to liberte.
 In fortune is [his] fulle trust,
 Though he lye in strawe or dust;
 In hoope is all his susteynyng.
 And so for lovers, in her wenyng,
 Whiche Love hath shit in his prisoun,
 Good hope is her salvacioun.
 Good hope, how sore that they smerte,
2770 Yeveth hem bothe will and herte
 To profre her body to martire;
 For hope so sore doth hem desire
 To suffre ech harm that men devise,
 For joye that aftirward shall aryse.
 "Hope in desir caccheth victorie;
 In hope of love is all the glorie;
 For hope is all that love may yive;
 Nere hope, ther shulde no lover lyve.
 Blessid be hope, which with desir
2780 Avaunceth lovers in such maner!
 Good hope is curteis for to please,
 To kepe lovers from all disese.
 Hope kepith his bond, and wole abide,
 For ony perill that may betyde;
 For hope to lovers, as most cheef,
 Doth hem endure all myscheef;
 Hope is her helpe whanne myster is.
 "And I shall yeve thee eke, iwys,
 Three other thingis that gret solas
2790 Doth to hem that be in my las.
 The firste good that may be founde
 To hem that in my las be bounde
 Is Swete-Thought, for to recorde
 Thing wherwith thou canst accorde
 Best in thyn herte, where she be --
 Thenkyng in absence is good to thee.
 Whanne ony lover doth compleyne,
 And lyveth in distresse and in peyne,
 Thanne Swete-Thought shal come as blyve
2800 Awey his angre for to dryve:
 It makith lovers to have remembraunce
 Of comfort and of high plesaunce
 That Hope hath hight hym for to wynne.
 For Thought anoon thanne shall bygynne,
 As fer, God wot, as he can fynde,
 To make a mirrour of his mynde;
 For to biholde he wole not lette.
 Hir persone he shall afore hym sette,
 Hir laughing eyen, persaunt and clere,
2810 Hir shape, hir forme, hir goodly chere,
 Hir mouth, that is so gracious,
 So swete and eke so saverous;
 Of all hir fetures he shall take heede,
 His eyen with all hir lymes fede.
 "Thus Swete-Thenkyng shall aswage
 The peyne of lovers and her rage.
 Thi joye shall double, withoute gesse,
 Whanne thou thenkist on hir semlynesse,
 Or of hir laughing, or of hir chere,
2820 That to thee made thi lady dere.
 This comfort wole I that thou take;
 And if the next thou wolt forsake,
 Which is not lesse saverous,
 Thou shuldist ben to daungerous.
 "The secounde shal be Swete-Speche,
 That hath to many oon be leche,
 To bringe hem out of woo and wer,
 And holpe many a bachiler,
 And many a lady sent socour,
2830 That have loved paramour,
 Thorough spekyng, whanne they myghte heere
 Of her lovers to hem so dere.
 To hem it voidith all her smerte,
 The which is closed in her herte.
 In herte it makith hem glad and light,
 Speche, whanne they [ne] mowe have sight.
 And therfore now it cometh to mynde,
 In olde dawes, as I fynde,
 That clerkis writen that hir knewe,
2840 Ther was a lady fresh of hewe,
 Which of hir love made a song
 On hym for to remembre among,
 In which she seyde, `Whanne that I here
 Speken of hym that is so dere,
 To me it voidith all smert,
 Iwys, he sittith so ner myn hert.
 To speke of hym, at eve or morwe,
 It cureth me of all my sorwe.
 To me is noon so high plesaunce
2850 As of his persone dalyaunce.'
 She wist full well that Swete-Spekyng
 Comfortith in full myche thyng.
 Hir love she hadde full well assayed;
 Of him she was full well apaied;
 To speke of hym hir joye was sett.
 Therfore I rede thee that thou gett
 A felowe that can well concele,
 And kepe thi counsell, and well hele,
 To whom go shewe hoolly thine herte,
2860 Bothe wele and woo, joye and smerte.
 To gete comfort to hym thou goo,
 And pryvyly, bitwene yow twoo,
 Yee shall speke of that goodly thyng
 That hath thyn herte in hir kepyng,
 Of hir beaute and hir semblaunce
 And of hir goodly countenaunce.
 Of all thi stat thou shalt hym sey,
 And aske hym counseill how thou may
 Do ony thyng that may hir plese;
2870 For it to thee shall do gret ese
 That he may wite thou trust hym soo,
 Bothe of thi wele and of thi woo.
 And if his herte to love be sett,
 His companye is myche the bett,
 For resoun wole he shewe to thee
 All uttirly his pryvyte;
 And what she is he loveth so,
 To thee pleynly he shal undo,
 Withoute drede of ony shame,
2880 Bothe tell hir renoun and hir name.
 Thanne shall he forther, fer and ner,
 And namely to thi lady der,
 In syker wise; yee, every other
 Shall helpen as his owne brother,
 In trouthe withoute doublenesse,
 And kepen cloos in sikernesse.
 For it is noble thing, in fay,
 To have a man thou darst say
 Thy pryve counsell every deell;
2890 For that wole comforte thee right well,
 And thou shalt holde thee well apayed,
 Whanne such a freend thou hast assayed.
 "The thridde good of gret comfort,
 That yeveth to lovers most disport,
 Comyth of sight and of biholdyng,
 That clepid is Swete-Lokyng,
 The whiche may noon ese do
 Whanne thou art fer thy lady fro;
 Wherfore thou prese alwey to be
2900 In place where thou maist hir see.
 For it is thyng most amerous,
 Most delytable and saverous,
 For to aswage a mannes sorowe,
 To sen his lady by the morwe.
 For it is a full noble thing,
 Whanne thyne eyen have metyng
 With that relike precious,
 Wherof they be so desirous.
 But al day after, soth it is,
2910 They have no drede to faren amys;
 They dreden neither wynd ne reyn,
 Ne noon other maner peyn.
 For whanne thyne eyen were thus in blis,
 Yit of hir curtesie, ywys,
 Alloone they can not have her joye,
 But to the herte they [it] convoye;
 Part of her blisse to hym they sende,
 Of all this harm to make an ende.
 The eye is a good messanger,
2920 Which can to the herte in such maner
 Tidyngis sende that [he] hath sen,
 To voide hym of his peynes clen.
 Wherof the herte rejoiseth soo,
 That a gret party of his woo
 Is voided and put awey to flight.
 Right as the derknesse of the nyght
 Is chased with clernesse of the mone,
 Right so is al his woo full soone
 Devoided clene, whanne that the sight
2930 Biholden may that freshe wight
 That the herte desireth soo,
 That al his derknesse is agoo.
 For thanne the herte is all at ese,
 Whanne the eyen sen that may hem plese.
 "Now have I declared thee all oute
 Of that thou were in drede and doute;
 For I have told thee feithfully
 What thee may curen utterly,
 And alle lovers that wole be
2940 Feithfull and full of stabilite.
 Good-Hope alwey kep bi thi side,
 And Swete-Thought make eke abide,
 Swete-Lokyng and Swete-Speche --
 Of all thyne harmes thei shall be leche,
 Of every thou shalt have gret plesaunce.
 If thou canst bide in sufferaunce,
 And serve wel withoute feyntise,
 Thou shalt be quyt of thyn emprise
 With more guerdoun, if that thou lyve;
2950 But at this tyme this I thee yive."
 The God of Love whanne al the day
 Had taught me, as ye have herd say,
 And enfourmed compendiously,
 He vanyshide awey all sodeynly,
 And I alloone lefte, all sool,
 So full of compleynt and of dool,
 For I saw no man there me by.
 My woundes me greved wondirly;
 Me for to curen nothyng I knew,
2960 Save the botoun bright of hew,
 Wheron was sett hoolly my thought.
 Of other comfort knew I nought,
 But it were thorugh the God of Love;
 I knew not elles to my bihove
 That myght me ease or comfort gete,
 But if he wolde hym entermete.
 The roser was, withoute doute,
 Closed with an hegge withoute,
 As ye toforn have herd me seyn;
2970 And fast I bisiede, and wolde fayn
 Have passed the hay, if I myghte
 Have geten ynne by ony slighte
 Unto the botoun so faire to see.
 But evere I dradde blamed to be,
 If men wolde have suspeccioun
 That I wolde of entencioun
 Have stole the roses that there were;
 Therfore to entre I was in fere.
 But at the last, as I bithought
2980 Whether I shulde passe or nought,
 I saw come with a glad cher
 To me, a lusty bacheler,
 Of good stature and of good highte,
 And Bialacoil forsothe he highte.
 Sone he was to Curtesy,
 And he me grauntide full gladly
 The passage of the outter hay,
 And seide: "Sir, how that yee may
 Passe, if youre wille be
2990 The freshe roser for to see,
 And yee the swete savour fele.
 Youre warrant may [I] [be] right wele;
 So thou thee kepe fro folye,
 Shall no man do thee vylanye.
 If I may helpe you in ought,
 I shall not feyne, dredeth nought,
 For I am bounde to youre servise,
 Fully devoide of feyntise."
 Thanne unto Bialacoil saide I,
3000 "I thanke you, sir, full hertely,
 And youre biheeste take at gre,
 That ye so goodly profer me.
 To you it cometh of gret fraunchise
 That ye me profer youre servise."
 Thanne aftir, full delyverly,
 Thorough the breres anoon wente I,
 Wherof encombred was the hay.
 I was wel plesed, the soth to say,
 To se the botoun faire and swote
3010 So freshe spronge out of the rote.
 And Bialacoil me served well,
 Whanne I so nygh me myghte fel
 Of the botoun the swete odour,
 And so lusty hewed of colour.
 But thanne a cherl (foule hym bityde!)
 Biside the roses gan hym hyde,
 To kepe the roses of that roser,
 Of whom the name was Daunger.
 This cherl was hid there in the greves,
3020 Kovered with gras and with leves,
 To spie and take whom that he fond
 Unto that roser putte an hond.
 He was not sool, for ther was moo,
 For with hym were other twoo
 Of wikkid maners and yvel fame.
 That oon was clepid, by his name,
 Wykked-Tonge -- God yeve hym sorwe! --
 For neither at eve ne at morwe,
 He can of no man good speke;
3030 On many a just man doth he wreke.
 Ther was a womman eke that hight
 Shame, that, who can reken right,
 Trespas was hir fadir name,
 Hir moder Resoun; and thus was Shame
 Brought of these ilke twoo.
 And yitt hadde Trespas never adoo
 With Resoun, ne never ley hir by,
 He was so hidous and so ugly,
 I mene this that Trespas highte;
3040 But Resoun conceyveth of a sighte
 Shame, of that I spak aforn.
 And whanne that Shame was thus born,
 It was ordeyned that Chastite
 Shulde of the roser lady be,
 Which, of the botouns more and las,
 With sondry folk assailed was,
 That she ne wiste what to doo.
 For Venus hir assailith soo,
 That nyght and day from hir she stal
3050 Botouns and roses overal.
 To Resoun thanne praieth Chastite,
 Whom Venus hath flemed over the see,
 That she hir doughter wolde hir lene,
 To kepe the roser fresh and grene.
 Anoon Resoun to Chastite
 Is fully assented that it be,
 And grauntide hir, at hir request,
 That Shame, by cause she [is. honest,
 Shall keper of the roser be.
3060 And thus to kepe it ther were three,
 That noon shulde hardy be ne bold,
 Were he yong or were he old,
 Ageyn hir will awey to bere
 Botouns ne roses that there were.
 I hadde wel sped, hadde I not ben
 Awayted with these three and sen.
 For Bialacoil, that was so fair,
 So gracious and debonair,
 Quytt hym to me full curteisly,
3070 And, me to plese, bad that I
 Shulde drawe me to the botoun ner;
 Prese in, to touche the roser
 Which bar the roses, he yaf me leve;
 This graunt ne myght but lytel greve.
 And for he saw it liked me,
 Ryght nygh the botoun pullede he
 A leef all grene, and yaff me that,
 The whiche ful nygh the botoun sat.
 I made [me] of that leef full queynt,
3080 And whanne I felte I was aqueynt
 With Bialacoil, and so pryve,
 I wende all at my will hadde be.
 Thanne wax I hardy for to tel
 To Bialacoil hou me bifel
 Of Love, that tok and wounded me,
 And seide, "Sir, so mote I thee,
 I may no joye have in no wise,
 Uppon no side, but it rise.
 For sithe (if I shall not feyne)
3090 In herte I have had so gret peyne,
 So gret annoy and such affray,
 That I ne wot what I shall say;
 I drede youre wrath to disserve.
 Lever me were that knyves kerve
 My body shulde in pecys smale,
 Than in any wise it shulde falle
 That ye wratthed shulde ben with me."
 "Sey boldely thi will," quod he,
 "I nyl be wroth, if that I may,
3100 For nought that thou shalt to me say."
 Thanne seide I, "Ser, not you displease
 To knowen of my gret unese,
 In which oonly Love hath me brought;
 For peynes gret, disese, and thought
 Fro day to day he doth me drye;
 Supposeth not, sir, that I lye.
 In me fyve woundes dide he make,
 The soore of whiche shall nevere slake,
 But ye the botoun graunte me,
3110 Which is moost passaunt of beaute,
 My lyf, my deth, and my martire,
 And tresour that I moost desire."
 Thanne Bialacoil, affrayed all,
 Seyde, "Sir, it may not fall;
 That ye desire, it may not arise.
 What? Wolde ye shende me in this wise?
 A mochel fool thanne I were,
 If I suffride you awey to bere
 The fresh botoun so faire of sight.
3120 For it were neither skile ne right,
 Of the roser ye broke the rynde,
 Or take the Rose aforn his kynde.
 Ye are not curteys to aske it.
 Late it still on the roser sitt
 And growe til it amended be,
 And parfytly come to beaute.
 I nolde not that it pulled were
 Fro the roser that it bere,
 To me it is so leef and deer."
3130 With that sterte oute anoon Daunger,
 Out of the place were he was hid.
 His malice in his chere was kid;
 Full gret he was and blak of hewe,
 Sturdy and hidous, whoso hym knewe;
 Like sharp urchouns his her was growe;
 His nose frounced, full kirked stood.
 He com criand as he were wood,
 And seide, "Bialacoil, telle me why
3140 Thou bryngest hider so booldely
 Hym that so nygh [is. the roser?
 Thou worchist in a wrong maner.
 He thenkith to dishonoure thee;
 Thou art wel worthy to have maugree
 To late hym of the roser wit.
 Who serveth a feloun is yvel quit.
 Thou woldist have doon gret bounte,
 And he with shame wolde quyte thee.
 Fle hennes, felowe! I rede thee goo!
3150 It wanteth litel I wole thee sloo.
 For Bialacoil ne knew thee nought,
 Whanne thee to serve he sette his thought;
 For thou wolt shame hym, if thou myght,
 Bothe ageyns resoun and right.
 I wole no more in thee affye,
 That comest so slyghly for t' espye;
 For it preveth wonder well,
 Thy slight and tresoun, every deell."
 I durst no more there make abod
3160 For the cherl, he was so wod,
 So gan he threte and manace,
 And thurgh the haye he dide me chace.
 For feer of hym I tremblyde and quok,
 So cherlishly his heed it shok,
 And seide, if eft he myght me take,
 I shulde not from his hondis scape.
 Thanne Bialacoil is fled and mat,
 And I, all sool, disconsolat,
 Was left aloone in peyne and thought;
3170 For shame to deth I was nygh brought.
 Thanne thought I on myn high foly,
 How that my body utterly
 Was yeve to peyne and to martire;
 And therto hadde I so gret ire,
 That I ne durst the hayes passe.
 There was noon hope; there was no grace.
 I trowe nevere man wiste of peyne,
 But he were laced in loves cheyne;
 Ne no man [wot], and sooth it is,
3180 But if he love, what anger is.
 Love holdith his heest to me right wel,
 Whanne peyne he seide I shulde fel;
 Noon herte may thenke, ne tunge seyn,
 A quarter of my woo and peyn.
 I myght not with the anger laste;
 Myn herte in poynt was for to braste,
 Whanne I thought on the Rose, that soo
 Was thurgh Daunger cast me froo.
 A long while stod I in that stat,
3190 Til that me saugh so mad and mat
 The lady of the highe ward,
 Which from hir tour lokide thiderward.
 Resoun men clepe that lady,
 Which from hir tour delyverly
 Com doun to me, withouten mor.
 But she was neither yong ne hoor,
 Ne high ne lowe, ne fat ne lene,
 But best as it were in a mene.
 Hir eyen twoo were cleer and light
3200 As ony candell that brenneth bright;
 And on hir heed she hadde a crowne.
 Hir semede wel an high persoune,
 For round enviroun, hir crownet
 Was full of riche stonys frett.
 Hir goodly semblaunt, by devys,
 I trowe were maad in paradys,
 For Nature hadde nevere such a grace,
 To forge a werk of such compace.
 For certeyn, but if the letter ly,
3210 God hymsilf, that is so high,
 Made hir aftir his ymage,
 And yaff hir sith sich avauntage
 That she hath myght and seignorie
 To kepe men from all folye.
 Whoso wole trowe hir lore,
 Ne may offenden nevermore.
 And while I stod thus derk and pale,
 Resoun bigan to me hir tale.
 She seide, "Al hayl, my swete freend!
3220 Foly and childhood wol thee sheend,
 Which the have putt in gret affray.
 Thou hast bought deere the tyme of May,
 That made thyn herte mery to be.
 In yvell tyme thou wentist to see
 The gardyn, whereof Ydilnesse
 Bar the keye and was maistresse,
 Whanne thou yedest in the daunce
 With hir, and haddest aqueyntaunce.
 Hir aqueyntaunce is perilous,
3230 First softe, and aftir noious;
 She hath [thee] trasshed, withoute wen.
 The God of Love hadde the not sen,
 Ne hadde Ydilnesse thee conveyed
 In the verger where Myrthe hym pleyed.
 If foly have supprised thee,
 Do so that it recovered be,
 And be wel ware to take nomore
 Counsel, that greveth aftir sore.
 He is wis that wol hymsilf chastise.
3240 And though a yong man in ony wise
 Trespace among, and do foly,
 Late hym not tarye, but hastily
 Late hym amende what so be mys.
 And eke I counseile thee, iwys,
 The God of Love hoolly foryet,
 That hath thee in sich peyne set,
 And thee in herte tourmented soo.
 I can [nat] sen how thou maist goo
 Other weyes to garisoun;
3250 For Daunger, that is so feloun,
 Felly purposith thee to werreye,
 Which is ful cruel, the soth to seye.
 "And yitt of Daunger cometh no blame,
 In reward of my doughter Shame,
 Which hath the roses in hir ward,
 As she that may be no musard.
 And Wikked-Tunge is with these two,
 That suffrith no man thider goo;
 For er a thing be do, he shall,
3260 Where that he cometh, overall,
 In fourty places, if it be sought,
 Seye thyng that nevere was don ne wrought;
 So moche tresoun is in his male
 Of falsnesse, for to seyne a tale.
 Thou delest with angry folk, ywis;
 Wherfore to thee bettir is
 From these folk awey to fare,
 For they wole make thee lyve in care.
 This is the yvell that love they call,
3270 Wherynne ther is but foly al,
 For love is foly everydell.
 Who loveth in no wise may do well,
 Ne sette his thought on no good werk.
 His scole he lesith, if he be a clerk.
 Of other craft eke if he be,
 He shal not thryve therynne, for he
 In love shal have more passioun
 Than monk, hermyte, or chanoun.
 The peyne is hard, out [of] mesure;
3280 The joye may eke no while endure;
 And in the possessioun
 Is myche tribulacioun.
 The joye it is so short lastyng,
 And but in hap is the getyng;
 For I see there many in travaille,
 That atte laste foule fayle.
 I was nothyng thi counseler,
 Whanne thou were maad the omager
 Of God of Love to hastily;
3290 Ther was no wisdom, but foly.
 Thyn herte was joly but not sage,
 Whanne thou were brought in sich a rage
 To yelde thee so redily,
 And to leve of is gret maistry.
 "I rede thee Love awey to dryve,
 That makith thee recche not of thi lyve.
 The foly more fro day to day
 Shal growe, but thou it putte away.
 Tak with thy teeth the bridel faste,
3300 To daunte thyn herte, and eke thee caste,
 If that thou maist, to gete thee defence
 For to redresse thi first offence.
 Whoso his herte alwey wol leve,
 Shal fynde among that shal hym greve."
 Whanne I hir herd thus me chastise,
 I answerd in ful angry wise.
 I prayed hir ceessen of hir speche,
 Outher to chastise me or teche,
 To bidde me my thought refreyne,
3310 Which Love hath caught in his demeyne:
 "What? Wene ye Love wol consent,
 That me assailith with bowe bent,
 To drawe myn herte out of his hond,
 Which is so qwikly in his bond?
 That ye counseyle may nevere be,
 For whanne he first arestide me,
 He took myn herte so hool hym till,
 That it is nothyng at my wil.
 He taught it so hym for to obeye,
3320 That he it sparrede with a keye.
 I pray yow, late me be all stille.
 For ye may well, if that ye wille,
 Youre wordis waste in idilnesse;
 For utterly, withouten gesse,
 All that ye seyn is but in veyne.
 Me were lever dye in the peyne,
 Than Love to me-ward shulde arette
 Falsheed, or tresoun on me sette.
 I wole me gete prys or blame,
3330 And love trewe, to save my name.
 Who that me chastisith, I hym hate."
 With that word Resoun wente hir gate,
 Whanne she saugh for no sermonynge
 She myght me fro my foly brynge.
 Thanne dismaied, I lefte all sool,
 Forwery, forwandred as a fool,
 For I ne knew no chevisaunce.
 Thanne fell into my remembraunce
 How Love bad me to purveye
3340 A felowe to whom I myghte seye
 My counsell and my pryvete,
 For that shulde moche availe me.
 With that bithought I me that I
 Hadde a felowe faste by,
 Trewe and siker, curteys and hend,
 And he was called by name a Freend --
 A trewer felowe was nowher noon.
 In haste to hym I wente anoon,
 And to hym all my woo I tolde;
3350 Fro hym right nought I wold witholde.
 I tolde hym all, withoute wer,
 And made my compleynt on Daunger,
 How for to see he was hidous,
 And to me-ward contrarious,
 The whiche thurgh his cruelte
 Was in poynt to [have] meygned me.
 With Bialacoil whanne he me sey
 Withynne the gardeyn walke and pley,
 Fro me he made hym for to go.
3360 And I, bilefte aloone in woo,
 I durst no lenger with hym speke,
 For Daunger seide he wolde be wreke,
 Whanne that he saw how I wente
 The freshe botoun for to hente,
 If I were hardy to come neer
 Bitwene the hay and the roser.
 This freend, whanne he wiste of my thought,
 He discomforted me right nought,
 But seide, "Felowe, be not so mad,
3370 Ne so abaysshed nor bystad.
 Mysilf I knowe full well Daunger,
 And how he is feers of his cheer,
 At prime temps, love to manace;
 Ful ofte I have ben in his caas.
 A feloun first though that he be,
 Aftir thou shalt hym souple se.
 Of longe passed I knew hym well;
 Ungoodly first though men hym feel,
 He wol meke aftir in his beryng
3380 Been, for service and obeysshyng.
 I shal thee telle what thou shalt doo.
 Mekely I rede thou go hym to,
 Of herte pray hym specialy
 Of thy trespas to have mercy,
 And hote hym wel, here to plese,
 That thou shalt nevermore hym displese.
 Who can best serve of flatery,
 Shall please Daunger most uttirly."
 Mi freend hath seid to me so wel
3390 That he me esid hath somdell,
 And eke allegged of my torment;
 For thurgh hym had I hardement
 Agayn to Daunger for to go,
 To preve if I myght meke hym soo.
 To Daunger came I all ashamed,
 The which aforn me hadde blamed,
 Desiryng for to pese my woo,
 But over hegge durst I not goo,
 For he forbed me the passage.
3400 I fond hym cruel in his rage,
 And in his hond a gret burdoun.
 To hym I knelide lowe adoun,
 Ful meke of port and symple of chere,
 And seide, "Sir, I am comen heere
 Oonly to aske of you mercy.
 That greveth me full gretly
 That evere my lyf I wratthed you;
 But for to amenden I am come now,
 With all my myght, bothe loude and stille,
3410 To doon right at youre owne wille.
 For Love made me for to doo
 That I have trespassed hidirto,
 Fro whom I ne may withdrawe myn hert.
 Yit shall [I] never, for joy ne smert,
 What so bifalle, good or ill,
 Offende more ageyn youre will.
 Lever I have endure disese,
 Than do that you shulde displese.
 "I you require and pray that ye
3420 Of me have mercy and pitee,
 To stynte your ire that greveth soo,
 That I wol swere for ever mo
 To be redressid at youre likyng,
 If I trespasse in ony thyng.
 Save that I pray thee graunte me
 A thyng that may not warned be,
 That I may love, all oonly;
 Noon other thyng of you aske I.
 I shall doon elles well, iwys,
3430 If of youre grace ye graunte me this.
 And ye may not letten me,
 For wel wot ye that love is free,
 And I shall loven, sithen that I will,
 Who ever like it well or ill;
 And yit ne wold I, for all Fraunce,
 Do thyng to do you displesaunce."
 Thanne Daunger fil in his entent
 For to foryeve his maltalent;
 But all his wratthe yit at laste
3440 He hath relesed, I preyde so faste.
 Shortly he seide, "Thy request
 Is not to mochel dishonest,
 Ne I wole not werne it thee,
 For yit nothyng engreveth me.
 For though thou love thus evermor,
 To me is neither softe ne soor.
 Love where that the list -- what recchith me,
 So [thou] fer fro my roses be?
 Trust not on me, for noon assay,
3450 If ony tyme thou passe the hay."
 Thus hath he graunted my praiere.
 Thanne wente I forth, withouten were,
 Unto my freend, and tolde hym all,
 Which was right joyful of my tall.
 He seide, "Now goth wel thyn affaire.
 He shall to thee be debonaire;
 Though he aforn was dispitous,
 He shall heere aftir be gracious.
 If he were touchid on som good veyne,
3460 He shuld yit rewen on thi peyne.
 Suffre, I rede, and no boost make,
 Till thou at good mes maist hym take.
 By sufferaunce and wordis softe
 A man may overcome ofte
 Hym that aforn he hadde in drede,
 In bookis sothly as I rede."
 Thus hath my freend with gret comfort
 Avaunced [me] with high disport,
 Which wolde me good as mych as I.
3470 And thanne anoon full sodeynly
 I tok my leve, and streight I went
 Unto the hay, for gret talent
 I hadde to sen the fresh botoun
 Wherynne lay my salvacioun;
 And Daunger tok kep if that I
 Kepe hym covenaunt trewely.
 So sore I dradde his manasyng,
 I durst not breke his biddyng;
 For, lest that I were of hym shent,
3480 I brak not his comaundement,
 For to purchase his good wil.
 It was [nat] for to come ther-til;
 His mercy was to fer bihynde.
 I wepte for I ne myght it fynde.
 I compleyned and sighed sore,
 And langwisshed evermore,
 For I durst not over goo
 Unto the Rose I loved soo.
 Thurgh my demenyng outerly
3490 Than he had knowledge certanly
 That Love me ladde in sich a wise
 That in me ther was no feyntise,
 Falsheed, ne no trecherie.
 And yit he, full of vylanye,
 Of disdeyn, and cruelte,
 On me ne wolde have pite,
 His cruel will for to refreyne,
 Though I wepe alwey, and me compleyne.
 And while I was in this torment,
3500 Were come of grace, by God sent,
 Fraunchise, and with hir Pite.
 Fulfild the bothen of bounte,
 They go to Daunger anoon-right
 To forther me with all her myght,
 And helpe in worde and in dede,
 For well they saugh that it was nede.
 First, of hir grace, dame Fraunchise
 Hath taken [word] of this emprise.
 She seide, "Daunger, gret wrong ye do,
3510 To worche this man so myche woo,
 Or pynen hym so angerly;
 It is to you gret villany.
 I can not see why, ne how,
 That he hath trespassed ageyn you,
 Save that he loveth, wherfore ye shulde
 The more in cherete of hym holde.
 The force of love makith hym do this;
 Who wolde hym blame he dide amys?
 He leseth more than ye may do;
3520 His peyne is hard, ye may see, lo!
 And Love in no wise wolde consente
 That he have power to repente,
 For though that quyk ye wolde hym sloo,
 Fro love his herte may not goo.
 Now, swete sir, is it youre ese
 Hym for to angre or disese?
 Allas! what may it you avaunce
 To don to hym so gret grevaunce?
 What worship is it agayn hym take,
3530 Or on youre man a werre make,
 Sith he so lowly, every wise,
 Is redy, as ye lust devise?
 If Love hath caught hym in his las,
 You for t' obeye in every caas,
 And ben youre suget at youre will,
 Shuld ye therfore willen hym ill?
 Ye shulde hym spare more, all out,
 Than hym that is bothe proud and stout.
 Curtesie wol that ye socoure
3540 Hem that ben meke undir youre cure.
 His herte is hard that wole not meke,
 Whanne men of mekenesse hym biseke."
 "That is certeyn," seide Pite;
 "We se ofte that humilite
 Bothe ire and also felonye
 Venquyssheth, and also malencolye.
 To stonde forth in such duresse,
 This cruelte and wikkidnesse.
 Wherfore I pray you, sir Daunger,
3550 For to mayntene no lenger heer
 Such cruel werre agayn youre man,
 As hoolly youres as ever he can;
 Nor that ye worchen no more woo
 Upon this caytif, that langwisshith soo,
 Which wole no more to you trespasse,
 But putte hym hoolly in youre grace.
 His offense ne was but lite;
 The God of Love it was to wite,
 That he youre thrall so gretly is,
3560 And if ye harme hym, ye don amys.
 For he hath had full hard penaunce,
 Sith that ye refte hym th' aqueyntaunce
 Of Bialacoil, his moste joye,
 Which alle his peynes myght acoye.
 He was biforn anoyed sore,
 But thanne ye doubled hym well more;
 For he of blis hath ben full bare,
 Sith Bialacoil was fro hym fare.
 Love hath to hym do gret distresse,
3570 He hath no nede of more duresse.
 Voideth from hym youre ire, I rede;
 Ye may not wynnen in this dede.
 Makith Bialacoil repeire ageyn,
 And haveth pite upon his peyn;
 For Fraunchise wole, and I, Pite,
 That mercyful to hym ye be;
 And sith that she and I accorde,
 Have upon hym misericorde.
 For I you pray and eke moneste
3580 Nought to refusen oure requeste,
 For he is hard and fell of thought,
 That for us twoo wole do right nought."
 Daunger ne myght no more endure;
 He mekede hym unto mesure.
 "I wole in no wise," seith Daunger,
 "Denye that ye have asked heer;
 It were to gret uncurtesie.
 I wole he have the companye
 Of Bialacoil, as ye devise;
3590 I wole hym lette in no wise."
 To Bialacoil thanne wente in hy
 Fraunchise, and seide full curteisly,
 "Ye have to longe be deignous
 Unto this lover, and daungerous,
 Fro him to withdrawe your presence,
 Which hath do to him gret offence,
 That ye not wolde upon him se,
 Wherfore a sorouful man is he.
 Shape ye to paye him, and to please,
3600 Of my love if ye wol have ease.
 Fulfyl his wyl, sith that ye knowe
 Daunger is daunted and brought lowe
 Through help of me and of Pyte.
 You dar no more afered be."
 "I shal do right as ye wyl,"
 Saith Bialacoil, "for it is skyl,
 Sithe Daunger wol that it so be."
 Than Fraunchise hath him sent to me.
 Byalacoil at the begynnyng
3610 Salued me in his commyng.
 No straungenesse was in him sen,
 No more than he ne had wrathed ben.
 As fayr semblaunt than shewed he me,
 And goodly, as aforn dyd he;
 And by the hond, withouten doute,
 Within the haye, right al aboute
 He ladde me, with right good cher,
 Al envyron the verger,
 That Daunger hadde me chased fro.
3620 Now have I leave overal to go;
 Now am I raysed, at my devys,
 Fro helle unto paradys.
 Thus Bialacoil, of gentylnesse,
 With al his payne and besynesse,
 Hath shewed me, only of grace,
 The estres of the swote place.
 I saw the Rose, whan I was nygh,
 Was greatter woxen and more high,
 Fressh, roddy, and fayr of hewe,
3630 Of colour ever yliche newe.
 And whan I hadde it longe sen,
 I saw that through the leves gren
 The Rose spredde to spaunysshing;
 To sene it was a goodly thyng.
 But it ne was so spred on bred
 That men within myght knowe the sed;
 For it covert was and close,
 Bothe with the leves and with the rose.
 The stalke was even and grene upright,
3640 It was theron a goodly syght;
 And wel the better, withoute wene,
 For the seed was nat sene.
 Ful fayre it spradde (God it blesse!),
 For such another, as I gesse,
 Aforn ne was, ne more vermayle.
 I was abawed for marveyle,
 For ever the fayrer that it was,
 The more I am bounden in Loves laas.
 Longe I abod there, soth to saye,
3650 Tyl Bialacoil I gan to praye,
 Whan that I saw him in no wyse
 To me warnen his servyse,
 That he me wolde graunt a thyng,
 Which to remembre is wel syttyng;
 This is to sayn, that of his grace
 He wolde me yeve leysar and space,
 To me that was so desyrous,
 To have a kyssynge precious
 Of the goodly fresshe Rose,
3660 That so swetely smelleth in my nose.
 "For if it you displeased nought,
 I wolde gladly, as I have sought,
 Have a cos therof freely,
 Of your yefte; for certainly,
 I wol non have but by your leve,
 So loth me were you for to greve."
 He sayde, "Frend, so God me spede,
 Of Chastite I have such drede;
 Thou shuldest nat warned be for me,
3670 But I dar nat for Chastyte.
 Agayn her dar I nat mysdo,
 For alway byddeth she me so
 To yeve no lover leave to kys,
 For who therto may wynnen, ywis,
 He of the surplus of the pray
 May lyve in hoope to get som day.
 For whoso kyssynge may attayne
 Of loves payne hath (soth to sayne)
 The beste and most avenaunt,
3680 And ernest of the remenaunt."
 Of his answere I sighed sore;
 I durst assaye him tho no more,
 I hadde such drede to greve him ay.
 A man shulde nat to moche assay
 To chafe hys frend out of measure,
 Nor putte his lyf in aventure;
 For no man at the firste strok
 Ne may nat felle down an ok,
 Nor of the reysyns have the wyn,
3690 Tyl grapes be rype, and wel afyn
 Be sore empressid, I you ensure,
 And drawen out of the pressure.
 But I, forpeyned wonder stronge,
 Thought that I abood right longe
 Aftir the kis, in peyne and woo,
 Sith I to kis desired soo;
 Till that, rewyng on my distresse,
 Ther to me Venus the goddesse,
 Which ay werreyeth Chastite,
3700 Cam of hir grace to socoure me,
 Whos myght is knowe fer and wide,
 For she is modir of Cupide,
 The God of Love, blynde as stoon,
 That helpith lovers many oon.
 This lady brought in hir right hond
 Of brennyng fyr a blasyng brond,
 Wherof the flawme and hoote fir
 Hath many a lady in desir
 Of love brought, and sore het,
3710 And in hir servise her hertes set.
 This lady was of good entaile,
 Right wondirfull of apparayle.
 Bi hir atyr so bright and shen
 Men myght perceyve well and sen
 She was not of religioun.
 Nor I nell make mencioun
 Nor of robe, nor of tresour,
 Of broche, neithir of hir riche attour,
 Ne of hir girdill aboute hir side,
3720 For that I nyll not longe abide.
 But knowith wel that certeynly
 She was araied richely.
 Devoyd of pryde certeyn she was.
 To Bialacoil she wente apas,
 And to hym shortly, in a clause,
 She seide, "Sir, what is the cause
 Ye ben of port so daungerous
 Unto this lover and deynous,
 To graunte hym nothyng but a kis?
3730 To werne it hym ye don amys,
 Sith well ye wote how that he
 Is Loves servaunt, as ye may see,
 And hath beaute, wherthrough [he] is
 Worthy of love to have the blis.
 How he is semely, biholde and see,
 How he is fair, how he is free,
 How he is swoote and debonair,
 Of age yong, lusty, and fair.
 Ther is no lady so hawteyn,
3740 Duchesse, ne countesse, ne chasteleyn,
 That I nolde holde hir ungoodly
 For to refuse hym outterly.
 His breth is also good and swete,
 And eke his lippis rody, and mete
 Oonly to pleyen and to kisse.
 Graunte hym a kis, of gentilnysse!
 His teth arn also white and clene;
 Me thinkith wrong, withouten wene,
 If ye now werne hym, trustith me,
3750 To graunte that a kis have he.
 The lasse to helpe hym that ye haste,
 The more tyme shul ye waste."
 Whanne the flawme of the verry brond,
 That Venus brought in hir right hond,
 Hadde Bialacoil with hete smete,
 Anoon he bad, withouten lette,
 Graunte to me the Rose kisse.
 Thanne of my peyne I gan to lysse,
 And to the Rose anoon wente I,
3760 And kisside it full feithfully.
 Thar no man aske if I was blithe,
 Whanne the savour soft and lythe
 Strok to myn herte withoute more,
 And me alegged of my sore,
 So was I full of joye and blisse.
 It is fair sich a flour to kisse,
 It was so swoote and saverous.
 I myght not be so angwisshous
 That I [ne] mote glad and joly be,
3770 Whanne that I remembre me.
 Yit ever among, sothly to seyne,
 I suffre noy and moche peyne.
 The see may never be so stille
 That with a litel wynde it nille
 Overwhelme and turne also,
 As it were wood in wawis goo.
 Aftir the calm the trouble sone
 Mot folowe and chaunge as the moone.
 Right so farith Love, that selde in oon
3780 Holdith his anker, for right anoon
 Whanne they in ese wene best to lyve,
 They ben with tempest all fordryve.
 Who serveth Love can telle of woo;
 The stoundemele joie mot overgoo.
 Now he hurteth, and now he cureth.
 For selde in oo poynt Love endureth.
 Now is it right me to procede,
 How Shame gan medle and take hede
 Thurgh whom fele angres I have had,
3790 And how the stronge wall was maad,
 And the castell of brede and lengthe,
 That God of Love wan with his strengthe.
 All this in romance will I sette,
 And for nothyng ne will I lette,
 So that it lykyng to hir be,
 That is the flour of beaute,
 For she may best my labour quyte,
 That I for hir love shal endite.
 Wikkid-Tunge, that the covyne
3800 Of every lover can devyne
 Worst, and addith more somdell
 (For Wikkid-Tunge seith never well),
 To me-ward bar he right gret hate,
 Espiyng me erly and late,
 Till he hath sen the grete chere
 Of Bialacoil and me ifeere.
 He myghte not his tunge withstond
 Worse to reporte than he fond,
 He was so full of cursed rage.
3810 It sat hym well of his lynage,
 For hym an Irish womman bar.
 His tunge was fyled sharp and squar,
 Poignaunt, and right kervyng,
 And wonder bitter in spekyng.
 For whanne that he me gan espie,
 He swoor, affermyng sikirlye,
 Bitwene Bialacoil and me
 Was yvel aquayntaunce and pryve.
 He spak therof so folily
3820 That he awakide Jelousy,
 Which, all afrayed in his risyng,
 Whanne that he herde janglyng,
 He ran anoon, as he were wood,
 To Bialacoil, there that he stod,
 Which hadde lever in this caas
 Have ben at Reynes or Amyas;
 For foot-hoot, in his felonye,
 To hym thus seide Jelousie:
 "Why hast thou ben so necligent
3830 To kepen, whanne I was absent,
 This verger heere left in thi ward?
 To me thou haddist no reward,
 To truste (to thy confusioun!)
 Hym thus, to whom suspeccioun
 I have right gret, for it is nede;
 It is well shewed by the dede.
 Gret faute in thee now have I founde.
 By God, anoon thou shalt be bounde,
 And faste loken in a tour,
3840 Withoute refuyt or socour.
 For Shame to longe hath be thee froo;
 Over-soone she was agoo.
 Whanne thou hast lost bothe drede and feere,
 It semede wel she was not heere.
 She was bisy in no wyse
 To kepe thee and chastise,
 And for to helpen Chastite
 To kepe the roser, as thenkith me.
 For thanne this boy-knave so booldely
3850 Ne shulde not have be hardy,
 [Ne] in this verger hadde such game,
 Which now me turneth to gret shame."
 Bialacoil nyste what to sey;
 Full fayn he wolde have fled awey,
 For feere han hid, nere that he
 All sodeynly tok hym with me.
 And whanne I saugh he hadde soo,
 This Jelousie, take us twoo,
 I was astoned, and knew no red,
3860 But fledde awey for verrey dred.
 Thanne Shame cam forth full symply
 (She wende have trespaced full gretly),
 Humble of hir port, and made it symple,
 Weryng a vayle in stide of wymple,
 As nonnys don in her abbey.
 By cause hir herte was in affray,
 She gan to speke withynne a throwe
 To Jelousie right wonder lowe.
 First of his grace she bysought,
3870 And seide, "Sire, ne leveth nought
 Wikkid-Tunge, that false espie,
 Which is so glad to feyne and lye.
 He hath you maad, thurgh flateryng,
 On Bialacoil a fals lesyng.
 His falsnesse is not now a-new;
 It is to long that he hym knew.
 This is not the firste day,
 For Wikkid-Tunge hath custome ay
 Yonge folkis to bewreye,
3880 And false lesynges on hem leye.
 "Yit nevertheles I see among,
 That the loigne it is so long,
 Of Bialacoil, hertis to lure,
 In Loves servyse for to endure,
 Drawyng suche folk hym to,
 That he hath nothyng with to doo.
 But in sothnesse I trowe nought
 That Bialacoil hadde ever in thought
 To do trespas or vylonye,
3890 But for his modir Curtesie
 Hath taught hym ever to be
 Good of aqueyntaunce and pryve.
 For he loveth noon hevynesse,
 But mirthe and pley and all gladnesse;
 He hateth alle trecherous,
 Soleyn folk, and envyous;
 For ye witen how that he
 Wol ever glad and joyfull be
 Honestly with folk to pley.
3900 I have be negligent, in good fey,
 To chastise hym; therfore now I
 Of herte crye you heere mercy,
 That I have been so recheles
 To tamen hym, withouten lees.
 Of my foly I me repente.
 Now wole I hool sette myn entente
 To kepe, bothe lowde and stille,
 Bialacoil to do youre wille."
 "Shame, Shame," seyde Jelousy,
3910 "To be bytrasshed gret drede have I.
 Leccherie hath clombe so hye
 That almoost blered is myn ye;
 No wonder is, if that drede have I.
 Overall regnyth Lecchery,
 Whos myght growith nyght and day
 Bothe in cloistre and in abbey.
 Chastite is werreyed overall;
 Therfore I wole with siker wall
 Close bothe roses and roser.
3920 I have to longe in this maner
 Left hem unclosid wilfully;
 Wherfore I am right inwardly
 Sorowfull, and repente me.
 But now they shall no lenger be
 Unclosid; and yit I drede sore,
 I shall repente ferthermore,
 For the game goth all amys.
 Counsell I must newe, ywys.
 I have to longe tristed thee,
3930 But now it shal no lenger be,
 For he may best, in every cost,
 Disceyve, that men tristen most.
 I see wel that I am nygh shent,
 But if I sette my full entent
 Remedye to purveye.
 Therfore close I shall the weye
 Fro hem that wole the Rose espie,
 And come to wayte me vilonye,
 For, in good feith and in trouthe,
3940 I wole not lette for no slouthe
 To lyve the more in sikirnesse,
 To make anoon a forteresse,
 T' enclose the roses of good savour.
 In myddis shall I make a tour
 To putte Bialacoil in prisoun,
 For evere I drede me of tresoun.
 I trowe I shal hym kepe soo
 That he shal have no myght to goo
 Aboute to make companye
3950 To hem that thenke of vylanye;
 Ne to no such as hath ben heere
 Aforn, and founde in hym good chere,
 Which han assailed hym to shende,
 And with her trowandyse to blende.
 A fool is eythe to bigyle;
 But may I lyve a litel while,
 He shal forthenke his fair semblaunt."
 And with that word came Drede avaunt,
 Which was abasshed and in gret fere,
3960 Whanne he wiste Jelousie was there.
 He was for drede in sich affray
 That not a word durste he say,
 But quakyng stod full still aloon,
 Til Jelousie his weye was gon,
 Save Shame, that him not forsok.
 Bothe Drede and she ful sore quok,
 That atte laste Drede abreyde,
 And to his cosyn Shame seide:
 "Shame," he seide, "in sothfastnesse,
3970 To me it is gret hevynesse
 That the noyse so fer is go,
 And the sclaundre of us twoo.
 But sithe that it is byfalle,
 We may it not ageyn calle
 Whanne onys sprongen is a fame.
 For many a yeer withouten blame
 We han ben, and many a day;
 For many an Aprill and many a May
 We han passed, not shamed,
3980 Till Jelousie hath us blamed,
 Of mystrust and suspecioun,
 Causeles, withoute enchesoun.
 Go we to Daunger hastily,
 And late us shewe hym openly
 That [he] hath not aright wrought,
 Whanne that [he] sette nought his thought
 To kepe better the purprise;
 In his doyng he is not wise.
 He hath to us do gret wrong,
3990 That hath suffred now so long
 Bialacoil to have his wille,
 All his lustes to fulfille.
 He must amende it utterly,
 Or ellys shall he vilaynesly
 Exiled be out of this lond;
 For he the werre may not withstond
 Of Jelousie, nor the greef,
 Sith Bialacoil is at myscheef."
 To Daunger, Shame and Drede anoon
4000 The righte weye ben goon.
 The cherl thei founden hem aforn,
 Liggyng undir an hawethorn;
 Undir his heed no pilowe was,
 But in the stede a trusse of gras.
 He slombred, and a nappe he tok,
 Tyll Shame pitously hym shok,
 And grete manace on hym gan make.
 "Why slepist thou, whanne thou shulde wake?"
 Quod Shame; "Thou doist us vylanye!
4010 Who tristith thee, he doth folye,
 To kepe roses or botouns,
 Whanne thei ben faire in her sesouns.
 Thou art woxe to familiere,
 Where thou shulde be straunge of chere,
 Stout of thi port, redy to greve.
 Thou doist gret folye for to leve
 Bialacoil hereinne to calle
 The yonder man to shenden us alle.
 Though that thou slepe, we may here
4020 Of Jelousie gret noyse heere.
 Art thou now late? Ris up in hy,
 And stop sone and delyverly
 All the gappis of the haye.
 Do no favour, I thee praye.
 It fallith nothyng to thy name
 To make faire semblaunt, where thou maist blame.
 Yf Bialacoil be sweete and free,
 Dogged and fell thou shuldist be,
 Froward and outrageous, ywis;
4030 A cherl chaungeth that curteis is.
 This have I herd ofte in seiyng,
 That man [ne] may, for no dauntyng,
 Make a sperhauk of a bosard.
 Alle men wole holde thee for musard,
 That debonair have founden thee;
 It sittith thee nought curteis to be.
 To do men plesaunce or servise,
 In thee it is recreaundise.
 Let thi werkis fer and ner
4040 Be like thi name, which is Daunger."
 Thanne, all abawid in shewing,
 Anoon spak Drede, right thus seiyng,
 And seide, "Daunger, I drede me
 That thou ne wolt bisy be
 To kepe that thou hast to kepe:
 Whanne thou shuldist wake, thou art aslepe.
 Thou shalt be greved, certeynly,
 If the aspie Jelousy,
 Or if he fynde thee in blame.
4050 He hath to-day assailed Shame,
 And chased awey with gret manace
 Bialacoil out of this place,
 And swereth shortly that he shall
 Enclose hym in a sturdy wall;
 And all is for thi wikkednesse,
 For that thee faileth straungenesse.
 Thyn herte, I trowe, be failed all;
 Thou shalt repente in speciall,
 If Jelousie the soothe knewe;
4060 Thou shalt forthenke and sore rewe."
 With that the cherl his clubbe gan shake,
 Frounyng his eyen gan to make,
 And hidous chere; as man in rage
 For ire he brente in his visage,
 Whanne that [he] herd hym blamed soo.
 He seide, "Out of my wit I goo!
 To be discomfyt I have gret wrong.
 Certis, I have now lyved to long,
 Sith I may not this closer kepe.
4070 All quyk I wolde be dolven deepe,
 If ony man shal more repeire
 Into this gardyn, for foule or faire.
 Myn herte for ire goth a-fere,
 That I let ony entre heere.
 I have do folie, now I see,
 But now it shall amended bee.
 Who settith foot heere ony more,
 Truly he shall repente it sore;
 For no man moo into this place
4080 Of me to entre shal have grace.
 Lever I hadde with swerdis tweyne
 Thurghoute myn herte in every veyne
 Perced to be with many a wounde,
 Thanne slouthe shulde in me be founde.
 From hennes forth, by nyght or day,
 I shall defende it, if I may,
 Withouten ony excepcioun
 Of ech maner condicioun.
 And if I it eny man graunt,
4090 Holdeth me for recreaunt."
 Thanne Daunger on his feet gan stond,
 And hente a burdoun in his hond.
 Wroth in his ire, ne lefte he nought,
 But thurgh the verger he hath sought.
 If he myght fynde hole or trace,
 Wherethurgh that me mot forth-by pace,
 Or ony gappe, he dide it close,
 That no man myghte touche a rose
 Of the roser all aboute.
4100 He shitteth every man withoute.
 Thus day by day Daunger is wers,
 More wondirfull and more dyvers,
 And feller eke than evere he was.
 For hym full ofte I synge "Allas!"
 For I ne may nought, thurgh his ire,
 Recovere that I moost desire.
 Myn herte, allas, wole brest a-twoo,
 For Bialacoil I wratthed soo.
 For certeynly, in every membre
4110 I quake, whanne I me remembre
 Of the botoun, which I wolde
 Full ofte a day sen and biholde.
 And whanne I thenke upon the kiss,
 And how myche joye and bliss
 I hadde thurgh the savour swete,
 For want of it I grone and grete.
 Me thenkith I fele yit in my nose
 The swete savour of the Rose.
 And now I woot that I mot goo
4120 So fer the freshe floures froo,
 To me full welcome were the deth.
 Absens therof, allas, me sleeth.
 For whilom with this Rose -- allas! --
 I touched nose, mouth, and face;
 But now the deth I must abide.
 But Love consente another tyde
 That onys I touche may and kisse,
 I trowe my peyne shall never lisse;
 Theron is all my coveitise,
4130 Which brent myn herte in many wise.
 Now shal repaire agayn sighinge,
 Long wacche on nyghtis, and no slepinge,
 Thought in wisshing, torment and woo,
 With many a turnyng to and froo,
 That half my peyne I can not telle.
 For I am fallen into helle
 From paradys, and wel the more
 My turment greveth. more and more
 Anoieth now the bittirnesse,
4140 That I toforn have felt swetnesse.
 And Wikkid-Tunge, thurgh his falshede,
 Causeth all my woo and drede.
 On me he leieth a pitous charge,
 Bicause his tunge was to large.
 Now it is tyme, shortly, that I
 Telle you som thyng of Jelousy,
 That was in gret suspecioun.
 Aboute hym lefte he no masoun,
 That stoon coude leye, ne querrour;
4150 He hirede hem to make a tour.
 And first, the roses for to kep,
 Aboute hem made he a diche deep,
 Right wondir large, and also brood;
 Upon the whiche also stod
 Of squared stoon a sturdy wall,
 Which on a cragge was founded all;
 And right gret thikkenesse eke it bar.
 Aboute, it was founded squar,
 An hundred fademe on every sid;
4160 It was all liche longe and wid.
 Lest ony tyme it were assayled,
 Ful wel aboute it was batayled,
 And rounde enviroun eke were set
 Ful many a riche and fair touret.
 At every corner of this wall
 Was set a tour full pryncipall;
 And everich hadde, withoute fable,
 A porte-colys defensable
 To kepe of enemyes, and to greve,
4170 That there her force wolde preve.
 And eke amydde this purprise
 Was maad a tour of gret maistrise;
 A fairer saugh no man with sight,
 Large and wid, and of gret myght.
 They dredde noon assaut
 Of gyn, gunne, nor skaffaut.
 The temperure of the morter
 Was maad of lycour wonder der,
 Of quykke lym, persant and egre,
4180 The which was tempred with vynegre.
 The stoon was hard, of ademant,
 Wherof they made the foundement.
 The tour was round, maad in compas;
 In all this world no riccher was,
 Ne better ordeigned therwithall.
 Aboute the tour was maad a wall,
 So that bitwixt that and the tour
 Rosers were sette of swete savour,
 With many roses that thei bere;
4190 And eke withynne the castell were
 Spryngoldes, gunnes, bows, and archers;
 And eke above, atte corners,
 Men seyn over the wall stonde
 Grete engynes, who were nygh honde.
 And in the kernels, heere and there,
 Of arblasters gret plente were;
 Noon armure myght her strok withstonde;
 It were foly to prece to honde.
 Withoute the diche were lystes maad,
4200 With wall batayled large and brad,
 For men and hors shulde not atteyne
 To neigh the dyche over the pleyne.
 Thus Jelousie hath enviroun
 Set aboute his garnysoun
 With walles rounde and diche dep,
 Oonly the roser for to kep.
 And Daunger, erly and late,
 The keyes [kepte] of the utter gate,
 The which openeth toward the eest.
4210 And he hadde with hym atte leest
 Thritty servauntes, echon by name.
 That other gate kepte Shame,
 Which openede, as it was couth,
 Toward the partie of the south.
 Sergeauntes assigned were hir to
 Ful many, hir wille for to doo.
 Thanne Drede hadde in hir baillie
 The kepyng of the conestablerye
 Toward the north, I undirstond,
4220 That openyde upon the lyft hond;
 The which for nothyng may be sure,
 But if she do bisy cure,
 Erly on morowe and also late,
 Strongly to shette and barre the gate.
 Of every thing that she may see
 Drede is aferd, wherso she be;
 For with a puff of litell wynd
 Drede is astonyed in hir mynd.
 Therfore, for stelyng of the Rose,
4230 I rede hir nought the yate unclose.
 A foulis flight wol make hir flee,
 And eke a shadowe, if she it see.
 Thanne Wikked-Tunge, ful of envye,
 With soudiours of Normandye,
 As he that causeth all the bate,
 Was keper of the fourthe gate,
 And also to the tother three
 He wente full ofte for to see.
 Whanne his lot was to wake anyght,
4240 His instrumentis wolde he dight,
 For to blowe and make sown
 Ofter thanne he hath enchesoun,
 And walken oft upon the wall,
 Corners and wikettis overall
 Full narwe serchen and espie;
 Though he nought fond, yit wolde he lye.
 Discordaunt ever fro armonye,
 And distoned from melodie,
 Controve he wolde, and foule fayle,
4250 With hornepipes of Cornewaile.
 In floytes made he discordaunce,
 And in his musyk -- with myschaunce! --
 He wolde seyn, with notes newe,
 That he fond no womman trewe,
 Ne that he saugh never in his lyf
 Unto hir husbonde a trewe wyf,
 Ne noon so ful of honeste
 That she nyl laughe and mery be
 Whanne that she hereth, or may espie,
4260 A man speken of leccherie.
 Everich of hem hath som vice:
 Oon is dishonest, another is nyce;
 If oon be full of vylanye,
 Another hath a likerous ye;
 If oon be full of wantonesse,
 Another is a chideresse.
 Thus Wikked-Tunge -- God yeve him shame! --
 Can putt hem everychon in blame,
 Withoute desert and causeles;
4270 He lieth, though they ben giltles.
 I have pite to sen the sorwe
 That waketh bothe eve and morwe,
 To innocentis doith such grevaunce.
 I pray God yeve him evel chaunce,
 That he ever so bisy is
 Of ony womman to seyn amys!
 Eke Jelousie God confound,
 That hath maad a tour so round,
 And made aboute a garisoun,
4280 To sette Bealacoil in prisoun,
 The which is shet there in the tour
 Ful longe to holde there sojour,
 There for to lyve in penaunce.
 And for to do hym more grevaunce,
 Ther hath ordeyned Jelousie
 An olde vekke, for to espye
 The maner of his governaunce;
 The whiche devel in hir enfaunce
 Hadde lerned of loves art,
4290 And of his pleyes tok hir part;
 She was expert in his servise.
 She knew ech wrench and every gise
 Of love, and every wile;
 It was [the] harder hir to gile.
 Of Bealacoil she tok ay hede,
 That evere he lyveth in woo and drede.
 He kepte hym koy and eke pryve,
 Lest in hym she hadde see
 Ony foly countenaunce,
4300 For she knew all the olde daunce.
 And aftir this, whanne Jelousie
 Hadde Bealacoil in his baillie,
 And shette hym up that was so fre,
 For seur of hym he wolde be,
 He trusteth sore in his castell;
 The stronge werk hym liketh well.
 He dradde not that no glotouns
 Shulde stele his roses or botouns.
 The roses weren assured all,
4310 Defenced with the stronge wall.
 Now Jelousie full well may be
 Of drede devoid in liberte,
 Whether that he slepe or wake,
 For his roses may noon be take.
 But I -- allas! -- now morne shall;
 Bicause I was withoute the wall,
 Full moche dool and moone I made.
 Who hadde wist what woo I hadde,
 I trowe he wolde have had pite.
4320 Love to deere hadde soold to me
 The good that of his love hadde I.
 I wende a bought it all queyntly;
 But now, thurgh doublyng of my peyn,
 I see he wolde it selle ageyn,
 And me a newe bargeyn leere,
 The which all-oute the more is deere,
 For the solas that I have lorn,
 Thanne I hadde it never aforn.
 Certayn, I am ful lik in deed
4330 To hym that cast in erthe his seed,
 And hath joie of the newe spryng,
 Whanne it greneth in the gynnyng,
 And is also fair and fresh of flour,
 Lusty to seen, swoote of odour;
 But er he it in sheves shere,
 May falle a weder that shal it dere,
 And make it to fade and falle,
 The stalke, the greyn, and floures alle,
 That to the tylyer is fordon
4340 The hope that he hadde to soon.
 I drede, certeyn, that so fare I;
 For hope and travaile sikerly
 Ben me byraft all with a storm;
 The flour nyl seeden of my corn.
 For Love hath so avaunced me,
 Whanne I bigan my pryvite
 To Bialacoil all for to tel,
 Whom I ne fond froward ne fel,
 But tok a-gree all hool my play.
4350 But Love is of so hard assay,
 That al at oonys he reved me,
 Whanne I wende best aboven to have be.
 It is of Love, as of Fortune,
 That chaungeth ofte, and nyl contune,
 Which whilom wol on folk smyle,
 And glowmbe on hem another while.
 Now freend, now foo, [thow] shalt hir feel,
 For [in] a twynklyng turneth hir wheel.
 She can writhe hir heed awey;
4360 This is the concours of hir pley.
 She can areise that doth morne,
 And whirle adown, and overturne
 Who sittith hyest, but as hir lust.
 A fool is he that wole hir trust;
 For it is I that am come down
 Thurgh change and revolucioun!
 Sith Bealacoil mot fro me twynne,
 Shet in the prisoun yond withynne,
 His absence at myn herte I fele;
4370 For all my joye and all myn hele
 Was in hym and in the Rose,
 That but yon wal, which hym doth close,
 Opene that I may hym see,
 Love nyl not that I cured be
 Of the peynes that I endure,
 Nor of my cruel aventure.
 A, Bialacoil, myn owne deer!
 Though thou be now a prisoner,
 Kep atte leste thyn herte to me
4380 And suffre not that it daunted be;
 Ne lat not Jelousie, in his rage,
 Putten thin herte in no servage.
 Although he chastice thee withoute
 And make thy body unto hym loute,
 Have herte as hard as dyamaunt,
 Stedefast and nought pliaunt.
 In prisoun though thi body be,
 At large kep thyn herte free;
 A trewe herte wole not plie
4390 For no manace that it may drye.
 If Jelousie doth thee payn,
 Quyte hym his while thus agayn,
 To venge thee, atte leest in thought,
 If other way thou maist nought;
 And in this wise sotilly
 Worche, and wynne the maistry.
 But yit I am in gret affray
 Lest thou do not as I say.
 I drede thou canst me gret maugre,
4400 That thou enprisoned art for me;
 But that [is. not for my trespas,
 For thurgh me never discovred was
 Yit thyng that oughte be secree.
 Wel more anoy is in me,
 Than is in thee, of this myschaunce;
 For I endure more hard penaunce,
 Than ony can seyn or thynke,
 That for the sorwe almost I synke.
 Whanne I remembre me of my woo,
4410 Full nygh out of my witt I goo.
 Inward myn herte I feele blede,
 For comfortles the deth I drede.
 Owe I not wel to have distresse,
 Whanne false, thurgh hir wikkednesse,
 And traitours, that arn envyous,
 To noyen me be so corajous?
 A, Bialacoil, full wel I see
 That they hem shape to disceyve thee,
 To make thee buxom to her lawe,
4420 And with her corde thee to drawe
 Where so hem lust, right at her will.
 I drede they have thee brought thertill.
 Withoute comfort, thought me sleeth.
 This game wole brynge me to my deeth.
 For if youre goode wille I leese,
 I mot be deed, I may not chese.
 And if that thou foryete me,
 Myn herte shal nevere in likyng be,
 Nor elleswhere fynde solas,
4430 If I be putt out of youre gras --
 As it shal never been, I hope --
 Thanne shulde I falle in wanhope.
 Allas, in wanhope? Nay, pardee!
 For I wole never dispeired be.
 If hope me faile, thanne am I
 Ungracious and unworthy.
 In hope I wole comforted be,
 For Love, whanne he bitaught hir me,
 Seide that Hope, whereso I goo,
4440 Shulde ay be relees to my woo.
 But what and she my baalis beete,
 And be to me curteis and sweete?
 She is in nothyng full certeyn.
 Lovers she putt in full gret peyn,
 And makith hem with woo to deele.
 Hir faire biheeste disceyveth feele,
 For she wole byhote, sikirly,
 And failen aftir outrely.
 A, that is a full noyous thyng!
4450 For many a lover, in lovyng,
 Hangeth upon hir, and trusteth faste,
 Whiche leese her travel at the laste.
 Of thyng to comen she woot right nought;
 Therfore, if it be wysely sought,
 Hir counseill foly is to take.
 For many tymes, whanne she wole make
 A full good silogisme, I dreede
 That aftirward ther shal in deede
 Folwe an evell conclusioun.
4460 This put me in confusioun.
 For many tymes I have it seen,
 That many have bigyled been
 For trust that they have set in Hope,
 Which fell hem aftirward a-slope.
 But nevertheles, yit gladly she wolde
 That he, that wole hym with hir holde,
 Hadde alle tymes his purpos cler,
 Withoute deceyte or ony wer --
 That she desireth sikirly.
4470 Whanne I hir blamed, I dide foly.
 But what avayleth hir good wille,
 Whanne she ne may staunche my stounde ille?
 That helpith litel that she may doo,
 Out-take biheest unto my woo.
 And heeste certeyn, in no wise,
 Withoute yift, is not to prise.
 Whanne heest and deede a-sundry varie,
 They doon a gret contrarie.
 Thus am I possed up and doun
4480 With dool, thought, and confusioun;
 Of my disese ther is no noumbre.
 Daunger and Shame me encumbre,
 Drede also, and Jelousie,
 And Wikked-Tunge, full of envie,
 Of whiche the sharpe and cruel ire
 Full ofte me putte in gret martire.
 They han my joye fully let,
 Sith Bialacoil they have bishet
 Fro me in prisoun wikkidly,
4490 Whom I love so entierly
 That it wole my bane bee
 But I the sonner may hym see.
 And yit moreover, wurst of alle,
 Ther is set to kepe -- foule hir bifalle! --
 A rympled vekke, fer ronne in age,
 Frownyng and yelowe in hir visage,
 Which in awayt lyth day and nyght,
 That noon of him may have a sight.
 Now mote my sorwe enforced be.
4500 Full soth it is that Love yaf me
 Three wonder yiftes of his grace,
 Whiche I have lorn now in this place,
 Sith they ne may, withoute drede,
 Helpen but lytel, who taketh heede.
 For here availeth no Swete-Thought,
 And Sweete-Speche helpith right nought.
 The thridde was called Swete-Lokyng,
 That now is lorn, without lesyng.
 Yiftes were faire, but not forthy
4510 They helpe me but symply,
 But Bialacoil loosed be,
 To gon at large and to be free.
 For hym my lyf lyth all in doute,
 But if he come the rather oute.
 Allas, I trowe it wole not ben!
 For how shuld I evermore hym sen?
 He may not out, and that is wrong,
 By cause the tour is so strong.
 How shulde he out? By whos prowesse,
4520 Out of so strong a forteresse?
 By me, certeyn, it nyl be doo;
 God woot, I have no wit therto!
 But, wel I woot, I was in rage,
 Whonne I to Love dide homage.
 Who was in cause, in sothfastnesse,
 But hirsilf, Dame Idelnesse,
 Which me conveied, thurgh my praier,
 To entre into that faire verger.
 She was to blame me to leve,
4530 The which now doth me soore greve.
 A foolis word is nought to trowe,
 Ne worth an appel for to lowe;
 Men shulde hym snybbe bittirly,
 At pryme temps of his foly.
 I was a fool, and she me leeved,
 Thurgh whom I am right nought releeved.
 She accomplisshid all my will,
 That now me greveth wondir ill.
 Resoun me seide what shulde falle.
4540 A fool mysilf I may well calle,
 That love asyde I had [nat] leyd,
 And trowed that Dame Resoun seid.
 Resoun hadde bothe skile and ryght,
 Whanne she me blamed, with all hir myght,
 To medle of love that hath me shent;
 But certeyn, now I wole repent.
 And shulde I repente? Nay, parde!
 A fals traitour thanne shulde I be.
 The develes engynnes wolde me take,
4550 If I my lord wolde forsake,
 Or Bialacoil falsly bitraye.
 Shulde I at myscheef hate hym? Nay,
 Sith he now, for his curtesie,
 Is in prisoun of Jelousie.
 Curtesie certeyn dide he me,
 So mych that may not yolden be,
 Whanne he the hay passen me let,
 To kisse the Rose, faire and swet.
 Shulde I therfore cunne hym mawgre?
4560 Nay, certeynly, it shal not be;
 For Love shal nevere, yif God wille,
 Here of me, thurgh word or wille,
 Offence or complaynt, more or lesse,
 Neither of Hope nor Idilnesse.
 For certis, it were wrong that I
 Hated hem for her curtesy.
 Ther is not ellys but suffre and thynke,
 And waken whanne I shulde wynke;
 Abide in hope, til Love, thurgh chaunce,
4570 Sende me socour or allegeaunce,
 Expectant ay till I may mete
 To geten mercy of that swete.
 Whilom I thenke how Love to me
 Seide he wolde take att gree
 My servise, if unpacience
 [Ne] caused me to don offence.
 He seide, "In thank I shal it take,
 And high maister eke thee make,
 If wikkednesse ne reve it thee;
4580 But sone, I trowe, that shall not be."
 These were his wordis, by and by;
 It semede he lovede me trewely.
 Now is ther not but serve hym wel,
 If that I thenke his thank to fel.
 My good, myn harm lyth hool in me.
 In Love may no defaute be,
 For trewe Love ne failide never man.
 Sothly the faute mot nedys than --
 As God forbede! -- be founde in me;
4590 And how it cometh, I can not see.
 Now late it goon as it may goo;
 Whether Love wole socoure me or sloo,
 He may do hool on me his will.
 I am so sore bounde hym till,
 From his servise I may not fleen;
 For lyf and deth, withouten wen,
 Is in his hand -- I may not chese --
 He may me doo bothe wynne and leese.
 And sith so sore he doth me greve,
4600 Yit, if my lust he wolde acheve,
 To Bialacoil goodly to be,
 I yeve no force what felle on me.
 For though I dye, as I mot nede,
 I praye Love, of his goodlyhede,
 To Bialacoil do gentylnesse,
 For whom I lyve in such distresse
 That I mot deyen for penaunce.
 But first, withoute repentaunce,
 I wole me confesse in good entent,
4610 And make in haste my testament,
 As lovers doon that feelen smert:
 To Bialacoil leve I myn hert
 All hool, withoute departyng,
 Doublenesse of repentyng.
 Thus, as I made my passage
 In compleynt and in cruel rage,
 And I not where to fynde a leche
 That couth. unto myn helpyng eche,
 Sodeynly agayn comen doun
4620 Out of hir tour I saugh Resoun,
 Discret and wis and full plesaunt,
 And of hir port full avenaunt.
 The righte weye she took to me,
 Which stod in gret perplexite,
 That was posshed in every side,
 That I nyst where I myght abide,
 Till she, demurely sad of cher,
 Seide to me, as she com ner,
 "Myn owne freend, art thou yit greved?
4630 How is this quarell yit acheved
 Of Loves side? Anoon me telle.
 Hast thou not yit of love thi fille?
 Art thou not wery of thy servise,
 That the hath [greved] in sich wise?
 What joye hast thou in thy lovyng?
 Is it swete or bitter thing?
 Canst thou yit chese, lat me see,
 What best thi socour myghte be?
 "Thou servest a full noble lord,
4640 That maketh thee thrall for thi reward,
 Which ay renewith thy turment,
 With foly so he hath thee blent.
 Thou fell in myscheef thilke day
 Whanne thou didist, the sothe to say,
 Obeysaunce and eke homage.
 Thou wroughtest nothyng as the sage,
 Whanne thou bicam his liege man.
 Thou didist a gret foly than,
 Thou wistest not what fell therto,
4650 With what lord thou haddist to do.
 If thou haddist hym wel knowe,
 Thou haddist nought be brought so lowe;
 For if thou wistest what it wer,
 Thou noldist serve hym half a yeer,
 Not a weke, nor half a day,
 Ne yit an hour, withoute delay,
 Ne never han loved paramours,
 His lordshipp is so full of shours.
 Knowest hym ought?" L'amaunt "Ye, dame, parde!"
4660 Raisoun "Nay, nay." L'amaunt "Yis, I." Raisoun "Wherof? Late se."
 4661 L'amaunt "Of that he seide I shulde be
 Glad to have sich lord as he,
 And maister of sich seignorie."
 Raisoun "Knowist hym no more?" L'amaunt "Nay, certis, I,
 Save that he yaf me rewles there,
 And wente his wey, I nyste where,
 And I abood, bounde in balaunce."
 Raisoun "Lo, there a noble conisaunce!
 But I wille that thou knowe hym now,
4670 Gynnyng and eende, sith that thou
 Art so anguisshous and mate,
 Disfigured out of astate;
 Ther may no wrecche have more of woo,
 Ne caytyf noon enduren soo.
 It were to every man sittyng
 Of his lord have knowleching;
 For if thou knewe hym, out of doute,
 Lightly thou shulde escapen oute
 Of the prisoun that marreth thee."
4680 L'amant "Ye, dame, sith my lord is he,
 And I his man, maad with myn hond,
 I wolde right fayn undirstond
 To knowe of what kynde he be,
 If ony wolde enforme me."
 Raisoun "I wolde," seide Resoun, "thee ler,
 Sith thou to lerne hast sich desir,
 And shewe thee, withouten fable,
 A thyng that is not demonstrable.
 Thou shalt [wite] withouten science,
4690 And knowe withouten experience,
 The thyng that may not knowen be,
 Ne wist, ne shewid, in no degre.
 Thou maist the sothe of it not witen,
 Though in thee it were writen.
 Thou shalt not knowe therof more,
 While thou art reuled by his lore;
 But unto hym that love wole flee,
 The knotte may unclosed bee,
 Which hath to thee, as it is founde,
4700 So long be knet and not unbounde.
 Now set wel thyn entencioun,
 To here of love discripcioun.
 "Love, it is an hatefull pees,
 A free acquitaunce, withoute relees,
 A trouthe, fret full of falsheede,
 A sikernesse all set in drede.
 In herte is a dispeiryng hope,
 And full of hope, it is wanhope;
 Wis woodnesse, and wod resoun;
4710 A swete perell in to droun;
 An hevy birthen, lyght to bere;
 A wikked wawe, awey to were.
 It is Karibdous perilous,
 Disagreable and gracious.
 It is discordaunce that can accorde,
 And accordaunce to discorde.
 It is kunnyng withoute science,
 Wisdom withoute sapience,
 Wit withoute discrecioun,
4720 Havoir withoute possessioun.
 It is sike hele and hool seknesse,
 A thurst drowned in dronknesse,
 And helthe full of maladie,
 And charite full of envie,
 And hunger full of habundaunce,
 And a gredy suffisaunce;
 Delit right full of hevynesse,
 And drerihed full of gladnesse;
 Bitter swetnesse and swete errour,
4730 Right evell savoured good savour;
 Sin that pardoun hath withynne,
 And pardoun spotted withoute [with] synne.
 A peyne also it is, joious,
 And felonye right pitous;
 Also pley that selde is stable,
 And stedefast [stat], right mevable;
 A strengthe, weyked to stonde upright,
 And feblenesse full of myght;
 Wit unavised, sage folie,
4740 And joie full of turmentrie;
 A laughter it is, weping ay;
 Reste that traveyleth nyght and day;
 Also a swete helle it is,
 And a soroufull paradys;
 A pleasant gayl and esy prisoun,
 And, full of froste, somer sesoun;
 Pryme temps full of frostes whit,
 And May devoide of al delit,
 With seer braunches, blossoms ungrene,
4750 And newe fruyt, fillid with wynter tene.
 It is a slowe, may not forbere
 Ragges, ribaned with gold, to were;
 For also wel wol love be set
 Under ragges, as riche rochet;
 And eke as wel be amourettes
 In mournyng blak, as bright burnettes.
 For noon is of so mochel pris,
 Ne no man founden so wys,
 Ne noon so high is of parage,
4760 Ne no man founde of wit so sage,
 No man so hardy ne so wight,
 Ne no man of so mochel myght,
 Noon so fulfilled of bounte,
 That he with love [ne] may daunted be.
 All the world holdith this wey;
 Love makith all to goon myswey,
 But it be they of yvel lyf,
 Whom Genius cursith, man and wyf,
 That wrongly werke ageyn nature.
4770 Noon such I love, ne have no cure
 Of sich as Loves servauntes ben,
 And wole not by my counsel flen.
 For I ne preise that lovyng
 Wherthurgh men, at the laste eendyng,
 Shall calle hem wrecchis full of woo,
 Love greveth hem and shendith soo.
 But if thou wolt wel Love eschewe,
 For to escape out of his mewe,
 And make al hool thi sorwe to slake,
4780 No bettir counsel maist thou take
 Than thynke to fleen wel, iwis.
 May nought helpe elles, for wite thou this:
 If thou fle it, it shal flee thee;
 Folowe it, and folowen shal it thee."
 L'amant Whanne I hadde herde all Resoun seyn,
 Which hadde spilt hir speche in veyn,
 "Dame," seide I, "I dar wel sey,
 Of this avaunt me wel I may
 That from youre scole so devyaunt
4790 I am, that never the more avaunt
 Right nought am I thurgh youre doctrine.
 I dulle under youre discipline.
 I wot no more than [I] wist er,
 To me so contrarie and so fer
 Is every thing that ye me ler,
 And yit I can it all par cuer.
 Myn herte foryetith therof right nought,
 It is so writen in my thought;
 And depe greven it is so tendir
4800 That all by herte I can it rendre,
 And rede it over comunely;
 But to mysilf lewedist am I.
 But sith ye love discreven so,
 And lak and preise it, bothe twoo,
 Defyneth it into this letter,
 That I may thenke on it the better;
 For I herde never diffyne it er,
 And wilfully I wolde it ler."
 Raisoun "If love be serched wel and sought,
4810 It is a syknesse of the thought
 Annexed and knet bitwixe tweyne,
 Which male and female, with oo cheyne,
 So frely byndith that they nyll twynne,
 Whether so therof they leese or wynne.
 The roote springith thurgh hoot brennyng
 Into disordinat desiryng
 For to kissen and enbrace,
 And at her lust them to solace.
 Of other thyng love recchith nought,
4820 But setteth her herte and all her thought
 More for delectacioun
 Than ony procreacioun
 Of other fruyt by engendring,
 Which love to God is not plesyng;
 For of her body fruyt to get
 They yeve no force, they are so set
 Upon delit to pley in-feere.
 And somme have also this manere,
 To feynen hem for love sek;
4830 Sich love I preise not at a lek.
 For paramours they do but feyne;
 To love truly they disdeyne.
 They falsen ladies traitoursly,
 And swern hem othes utterly,
 With many a lesyng and many a fable,
 And all they fynden deceyvable.
 And whanne they han her lust geten,
 The hoote ernes they al foryeten.
 Wymmen, the harm they bien full sore;
4840 But men this thenken evermore,
 That lasse harm is, so mote I the,
 Deceyve them than deceyved be;
 And namely, where they ne may
 Fynde non other mene wey.
 For I wot wel, in sothfastnesse,
 [What man] doth now his bisynesse
 With ony womman for to dele,
 For ony lust that he may fele,
 But if it be for engendrure,
4850 He doth trespas, I you ensure.
 For he shulde setten all his wil
 To geten a likly thyng hym til,
 And to sustene, if he myght,
 And kepe forth, by Kyndes right,
 His owne lyknesse and semblable;
 And faile shulde successioun,
 Ne were ther generacioun
 Oure sectis strene for to save.
4860 Whanne fader or moder arn in grave,
 Her children shulde, whanne they ben deede,
 Full diligent ben, in her steede,
 To use that werk on such a wise
 That oon may thurgh another rise.
 Therfore sette Kynde therynne delit,
 For men therynne shulde hem delit,
 And of that deede be not erk,
 But ofte sithes haunt that werk.
 For noon wolde drawe therof a draught,
4870 Ne were delit, which hath hym kaught.
 Thus hath sotilled dame Nature;
 For noon goth right, I thee ensure,
 Ne hath entent hool ne parfit;
 For her desir is for delyt,
 The which fortened crece and eke
 The pley of love for-ofte seke,
 And thrall hemsilf, they be so nyce,
 Unto the prince of every vice.
 For of ech synne it is the rote,
4880 Unlefull lust, though it be sote,
 And of all yvell the racyne,
 As Tulius can determyne,
 Which in his tyme was full sage,
 In a bok he made `Of Age,'
 Where that more he preyseth eelde,
 Though he be croked and unweelde,
 And more of commendacioun
 Than youthe in his discripcioun.
 For youthe set bothe man and wyf
4890 In all perell of soule and lyf;
 And perell is, but men have grace,
 The tyme of youthe for to pace
 Withoute ony deth or distresse,
 It is so full of wyldenesse,
 So ofte it doth shame or damage
 To hym or to his lynage.
 It ledith man now up, now doun,
 In mochel dissolucioun,
 And makith hym love yvell company,
4900 And lede his lyf disrewlily,
 And halt hym payed with noon estat.
 Withynne hymsilf is such debat,
 He chaungith purpos and entent,
 And yalt [him] into som covent,
 To lyven aftir her emprise,
 And lesith fredom and fraunchise,
 That Nature in hym hadde set,
 The which ageyn he may not get,
 If he there make his mansioun,
4910 For to abide professioun.
 Though for a tyme his herte absente,
 It may not fayle, he shal repente,
 And eke abide thilke day
 To leve his abit, and gon his way,
 And lesith his worshipp and his name,
 And dar not come ageyn for shame;
 But al his lyf he doth so mourne,
 By cause he dar not hom retourne.
 Fredom of kynde so lost hath he
4920 That never may recured be,
 But if that God hym graunte grace
 That he may, er he hennes pace,
 Conteyne undir obedience
 Thurgh the vertu of pacience.
 For Youthe sett man in all folye,
 In unthrift and in ribaudie,
 In leccherie and in outrage,
 So ofte it chaungith of corage.
 Youthe gynneth ofte sich bargeyn,
4930 That may not eende withouten peyn.
 In gret perell is sett youthede,
 Delit so doth his bridil leede.
 Delit thus hangith, dred thee nought,
 Bothe mannys body and his thought,
 Oonly thurgh Youthe, his chaumberere,
 That to don yvell is customere,
 And of nought elles taketh hede
 But oonly folkes for to lede
 Into disport and wyldenesse,
4940 So is [she] froward from sadnesse.
 "But Eelde drawith hem therfro;
 Who wot it nought, he may wel goo
 Demande of hem that now arn olde,
 That whilom Youthe hadde in holde,
 Which yit remembre of tendir age,
 Hou it hem brought in many a rage,
 And many a foly therynne wrought.
 But now that Eelde hath hem thourgh-sought,
 They repente hem of her folye,
4950 That Youthe hem putte in jupardye,
 In perell, and in myche woo,
 And made hem ofte amys to do,
 And suen yvell companye,
 Riot and avouterie.
 "But Eelde can ageyn restreyne
 From sich foly, and refreyne,
 And sette men by her ordinaunce
 In good reule and in governaunce.
 But yvell she spendith hir servise,
4960 For no man wole hir love neither prise;
 She is hated, this wot I wel.
 Hir acqueyntaunce wolde no man fel,
 Ne han of Elde companye;
 Men hate to be of hir alye.
 For no man wolde bicomen old,
 Ne dye whanne he is yong and bold.
 And Eelde merveilith right gretly,
 Whanne thei remembre hem inwardly
 Of many a perelous emprise,
4970 Which that they wrought in sondry wise,
 Houevere they myght, withoute blame,
 Escape awey withoute shame,
 In youthe, withoute damage
 Or repreef of her lynage,
 Loss of membre, shedyng of blod,
 Perell of deth, or los of good.
 Wost thou nought where Youthe abit,
 That men so preisen in her wit?
 With Delit she halt sojour,
4980 For bothe they dwellen in oo tour.
 As longe as Youthe is in sesoun,
 They dwellen in oon mansioun.
 Delit of Youthe wole have servise
 To do what so he wole devise;
 And Youthe is redy evermore
 For to obey, for smert of sore,
 Unto Delit, and hym to yive
 Hir servise, while that she may lyve.
 "Where Elde abit I wol thee telle
4990 Shortly, and no while dwelle,
 For thidir byhoveth thee to goo.
 If Deth in youthe thee not sloo,
 Of this journey thou maist not faile.
 With hir Labour and Travaile
 Logged ben, with Sorwe and Woo,
 That never out of hir court goo.
 Peyne and Distresse, Syknesse and Ire,
 And Malencoly, that angry sire,
 Ben of hir paleys senatours;
5000 Gronyng and Grucchyng, hir herbejours.
 The day and nyght, hir to turmente,
 With cruell Deth they hir presente,
 And tellen hir, erliche and late,
 That Deth stondeth armed at hir gate.
 Thanne brynge they to her remembraunce
 The foly dedis of hir infaunce,
 Whiche causen hir to mourne in woo
 That Youthe hath hir bigiled so,
 Which sodeynly awey is hasted.
5010 She wepeth the tyme that she hath wasted,
 Compleynyng of the preterit,
 And the present that not abit,
 And of hir olde vanite,
 That, but aforn hir she may see
 In the future som socour,
 To leggen hir of hir dolour,
 To graunte hir tyme of repentaunce,
 For her synnes to do penaunce,
 And at the laste so hir governe
5020 To wynne the joy that is eterne,
 Fro which go bakward Youthe hir made,
 In vanite to droune and wade.
 For present tyme abidith nought;
 It is more swift than any thought.
 So litel while it doth endure
 That ther nys compte ne mesure.
 But hou that evere the game go,
 Who list to have joie and mirth also
 Of love, be it he or she,
5030 High or lowe, who it be,
 In fruyt they shulde hem delyte;
 Her part they may not elles quyte,
 To save hemsilf in honeste.
 And yit full many on I se
 Of wymmen, sothly for to seyn,
 That desire and wolde fayn
 The pley of love, they be so wilde,
 And not coveite to go with childe.
 And if with child they be, perchaunce,
5040 They wole it holde a gret myschaunce;
 But whatsomever woo they fele,
 They wole not pleyne but concele;
 But if it be ony fool or nyce,
 In whom that Shame hath no justice.
 For to delyt echon they drawe,
 That haunte this werk, bothe high and lawe,
 Save sich that arn worth right nought,
 That for money wole be bought.
 Such love I preise in no wise,
5050 Whanne it is goven for coveitise.
 I preise no womman, though she be wood,
 That yeveth hirsilf for ony good.
 For litel shulde a man telle
 Of hir, that wole hir body selle,
 Be she mayde, be she wyf,
 That quyk wole selle hir, bi hir lif.
 Hou faire chere that evere she make,
 He is a wrecche, I undirtake,
 That loveth such on, for swete or sour,
5060 Though she hym calle hir paramour,
 And laugheth on hym, and makith hym feeste.
 For certeynly no such beeste
 To be loved is not worthy,
 Or bere the name of druery.
 Noon shulde hir please, but he were wood,
 That wole dispoile hym of his good.
 Yit nevertheles, I wol not sey
 That she, for solas and for pley,
 [Ne] may a jewel or other thyng
5070 Take of her loves fre yevyng;
 But that she aske it in no wise,
 For drede of shame of coveitise.
 And she of hirs may hym, certeyn,
 Withoute sclaundre yeven ageyn,
 And joyne her hertes togidre so
 In love, and take and yeve also.
 Trowe not that I wolde hem twynne,
 Whanne in her love ther is no synne;
 I wol that they togedre go,
5080 And don al that they han ado,
 As curteis shulde and debonaire,
 And in her love beren hem faire,
 Withoute vice, bothe he and she,
 So that alwey, in honeste,
 Fro foly love they kepe hem cler,
 That brenneth hertis with his fer;
 And that her love, in ony wise,
 Be devoide of coveitise.
 Good love shulde engendrid be
5090 Of trewe herte, just, and secre,
 And not of such as sette her thought
 To have her lust and ellis nought --
 So are they caught in Loves las,
 Truly, for bodily solas.
 Fleshly delit is so present
 With thee, that sette all thyn entent
 Withoute more (what shulde I glose?)
 For to gete and have the Rose,
 Which makith [thee] so mat and wood
5100 That thou desirest noon other good.
 But thou art not an inche the nerre,
 But evere abidist in sorwe and werre,
 As in thi face it is sene.
 It makith thee bothe pale and lene;
 Thy myght, thi vertu goth away.
 A sory gest, in goode fay,
 Thou herberest than in thyn inn,
 The God of Love whanne thou let inn!
 Wherfore I rede, thou shette hym oute,
5110 Or he shall greve thee, out of doute;
 For to thi profit it wol turne,
 If he nomore with thee sojourne.
 In gret myscheef and sorwe sonken
 Ben hertis that of love arn dronken,
 As thou peraventure knowen shall,
 Whanne thou hast lost thy tyme all,
 And spent thy youthe in ydilnesse,
 In waste and wofull lustynesse.
 If thou maist lyve the tyme to se
5120 Of love for to delyvered be,
 Thy tyme thou shalt biwepe sore,
 The whiche never thou maist restore;
 For tyme lost, as men may see,
 For nothyng may recured be.
 And if thou scape yit, atte laste,
 Fro Love, that hath thee so faste
 Knytt and bounden in his las,
 Certeyn I holde it but a gras.
 For many oon, as it is seyn,
5130 Have lost and spent also in veyn,
 In his servise, withoute socour,
 Body and soule, good and tresour,
 Wit and strengthe, and eke richesse,
 Of which they hadde never redresse."
 L'amant Thus taught and preched hath
 Resoun, but Love spilte hir sermoun,
 That was so ymped in my thought,
 That hir doctrine I sette at nought.
 And yitt ne seide she never a del
5140 That I ne undirstod it wel,
 Word by word, the mater all;
 But unto Love I was so thrall,
 Which callith overall his pray,
 He chasith so my thought alway,
 And holdith myn herte undir his sel
 As trust and trew as ony stel;
 So that no devocioun
 Ne hadde I in the sermoun
 Of dame Resoun, ne of hir red.
5150 It tok no sojour in myn hed,
 For all yede out at oon ere
 That in that other she dide lere.
 Fully on me she lost hir lore;
 Hir speche me greved wondir sore.
 Than unto hir for ire I seide,
 For anger, as I dide abraide:
 "Dame, and is it youre wille algate
 That I not love, but that I hate
 Alle men, as ye me teche?
5160 For if I do aftir youre speche,
 Sith that ye seyn love is not good,
 Thanne must I nedis ay with mood,
 If I it leve, in hatrede ay
 Lyven, and voide love away
 From me, [and] [ben] a synfull wrecche
 Hated of all [that] [love] that tecche.
 I may not go noon other gate,
 For other must I love or hate.
 And if I hate men of-newe
5170 More than love, it wol me rewe,
 As by youre preching semeth me,
 For Love nothing ne preisith thee.
 Ye yeve good counsel, sikirly,
 That prechith me alday that I
 Shulde not Loves lore alowe.
 He were a fool, wolde you not trowe!
 In speche also ye han me taught
 Another love, that knowen is naught,
 Which I have herd you not repreve,
5180 To love ech other. By youre leve,
 If ye wolde diffyne it me,
 I wolde gladly here, to se,
 At the leest, if I may lere
 Of sondry loves the manere."
 Raisoun "Certis, freend, a fool art thou,
 Whan that thou nothyng wolt allow
 That I for thi profit say.
 Yit wole I sey thee more in fay,
 For I am redy, at the leste,
5190 To accomplisshe thi requeste.
 But I not where it wole avayle;
 In veyn, perauntre, I shal travayle.
 Love ther is in sondry wise,
 As I shal thee heere devise.
 For som love leful is and good --
 I mene not that which makith thee wood,
 And bringith thee in many a fit,
 And ravysshith fro thee al thi wit,
 It is so merveilous and queynt;
5200 With such love be no more aqueynt.
 "Love of freendshipp also ther is,
 Which makith no man don amys,
 Of wille knytt bitwixe two,
 That wole not breke for wele ne woo;
 Which long is likly to contune,
 Whanne wille and goodis ben in comune;
 Grounded by Goddis ordinaunce,
 Hool, withoute discordaunce;
 With hem holdyng comunte
5210 Of all her good in charite,
 That ther be noon excepcioun
 Thurgh chaungyng of entencioun;
 That ech helpe other at her neede,
 And wisely hele bothe word and dede;
 Trewe of menyng, devoide of slouthe,
 For witt is nought withoute trouthe;
 So that the ton dar all his thought
 Seyn to his freend, and spare nought,
 As to hymsilf, without dredyng
5220 To be discovered by wreying.
 For glad is that conjunccioun,
 Whanne ther is noon susspecioun
 [Of] [blame] [in] [hem], whom they wolde prove
 That trewe and parfit weren in love.
 For no man may be amyable,
 But if he be so ferme and stable
 That fortune chaunge hym not, ne blynde,
 But that his freend allwey hym fynde,
 Bothe pore and riche, in oo state.
5230 For if his freend, thurgh ony gate,
 Wole compleyne of his poverte,
 He shulde not bide so long til he
 Of his helpyng hym requere;
 For good dede, don thurgh praiere,
 Is sold and bought to deere, iwys,
 To hert that of gret valour is.
 For hert fulfilled of gentilnesse
 Can yvel demene his distresse;
 And man that worthy is of name
5240 To asken often hath gret shame.
 A good man brenneth in his thought
 For shame, whanne he axeth ought.
 He hath gret thought and dredeth ay
 For his disese, whanne he shal pray
 His freend, lest that he warned be,
 Til that he preve his stabilte.
 But whanne that he hath founden oon
 That trusty is and trewe as ston,
 And assaied hym at all,
5250 And founde hym stedefast as a wall,
 And of his freendshipp be certeyn,
 He shal hym shewe bothe joye and peyn,
 And all that [he] dar thynke or sey,
 Withoute shame, as he wel may.
 For how shulde he ashamed be
 Of sich on as I tolde thee?
 For whanne he woot his secre thought,
 The thridde shal knowe therof right nought;
 For tweyne of noumbre is bet than thre
5260 In every counsell and secre.
 Repreve he dredeth never a deel,
 Who that bisett his wordis wel;
 For every wise man, out of drede,
 Can kepe his tunge til he se nede;
 And fooles can not holde her tunge;
 A fooles belle is soone runge.
 Yit shal a trewe freend do more
 To helpe his felowe of his sore,
 And socoure hym, whanne he hath neede,
5270 In all that he may don in deede,
 And gladder [be] that he hym plesith,
 Than his felowe that he esith.
 And if he do not his requeste,
 He shal as mochel hym moleste
 As his felow, for that he
 May not fulfille his volunte
 Fully, as he hath requered.
 If bothe the hertis Love hath fered,
 Joy and woo they shull depart,
5280 And take evenly ech his part.
 Half his anoy he shal have ay,
 And comfort [him] what that he may;
 And of his blisse parte shal he,
 If love wel departed be.
 "And whilom of this amyte
 Spak Tulius in a ditee:
 `Man shulde maken his request
 Unto his freend, that is honest;
 And he goodly shulde it fulfille,
5290 But it the more were out of skile,
 And otherwise not graunte therto,
 Except oonly in causes twoo:
 If men his freend to deth wolde drive,
 Lat hym be bisy to save his lyve;
 Also if men wolen hym assayle,
 Of his wurshipp to make hym faile,
 And hyndren hym of his renoun,
 Lat hym, with full entencioun,
 His dever don in ech degre
5300 That his freend ne shamed be.
 In thise two caas with his myght,
 Taking no kep to skile nor right,
 As fer as love may hym excuse,
 This oughte no man to refuse.'
 This love that I have told to thee
 Is nothing contrarie to me;
 This wole I that thou folowe wel,
 And leve the tother everydel.
 This love to vertu all entendith,
5310 The tothir fooles blent and shendith.
 "Another love also there is
 That is contrarie unto this,
 Which desir is so constreyned
 That [it] is but wille feyned.
 Awey fro trouthe it doth so varie
 That to good love it is contrarie;
 For it maymeth, in many wise,
 Sike hertis with coveitise.
 All in wynnyng and in profit
5320 Sich love settith his delit.
 This love so hangeth in balaunce
 That, if it lese his hope, perchaunce,
 Of lucre, that he is sett upon,
 It wole faile and quenche anoon;
 For no man may be amerous,
 Ne in his lyvyng vertuous,
 But he love more, in mood,
 Men for hemsilf than for her good.
 For love that profit doth abide
5330 Is fals, and bit not in no tyde.
 [This] love cometh of dame Fortune,
 That litel while wol contune;
 For it shal chaungen wonder soone,
 And take eclips, right as the moone,
 Whanne she is from us lett
 Thurgh erthe, that bitwixe is sett
 The sonne and hir, as it may fall,
 Be it in partie, or in all.
 The shadowe maketh her bemys merke,
5340 And hir hornes to shewe derke,
 That part where she hath lost hir lyght
 Of Phebus fully, and the sight;
 Til, whanne the shadowe is overpast,
 She is enlumyned ageyn as fast,
 Thurgh the brightnesse of the sonne bemes,
 That yeveth to hir ageyn hir lemes.
 That love is right of sich nature;
 Now is faire, and now obscure,
 Now bright, now clipsi of manere,
5350 And whilom dym, and whilom clere.
 As soone as Poverte gynneth take,
 With mantel and wedis blake
 Hidith of love the light awey,
 That into nyght it turneth day,
 It may not see Richesse shyne
 Till the blak shadowes fyne.
 For, whanne Richesse shyneth bright,
 Love recovereth ageyn his light;
 And whanne it failith he wol flit,
5360 And as she groweth, so groweth it.
 Of this love -- here what I sey! --
 The riche men are loved ay,
 And namely tho that sparand ben,
 That wole not wasshe her hertes clen
 Of the filthe nor of the vice
 Of gredy brennyng avarice.
 The riche man full fonned is, ywys,
 That weneth that he loved is.
 If that his herte it undirstod,
5370 It is not he, it is his good;
 He may wel witen in his thought,
 His good is loved, and he right nought.
 For if he be a nygard ek,
 Men wole not sette by hym a lek,
 But haten hym; this is the soth.
 Lo, what profit his catell doth.
 Of every man that may hym see
 It geteth hym nought but enmyte.
 But he amende hym of that vice,
5380 And knowe hymsilf, he is not wys.
 Certys, he shulde ay freendly be,
 To gete hym love also ben free,
 Or ellis he is not wise ne sage
 Nomore than is a goot ramage.
 That he not loveth, his dede proveth,
 Whan he his richesse so wel loveth
 That he wole hide it ay and spare,
 His pore freendis sen forfare,
 To kepen ay his purpos,
5390 Til for drede his yen clos,
 And til a wikked deth hym take.
 Hym hadde lever asondre shake,
 And late alle his lymes asondre ryve,
 Than leve his richesse in his lyve.
 He thenkith parte it with no man;
 Certayn, no love is in hym than.
 How shulde love withynne hym be,
 Whanne in his herte is no pite?
 That he trespasseth, wel I wat,
5400 For ech man knowith his estat;
 For wel hym ought to be reproved
 That loveth nought, ne is not loved.
 "But sith we arn to Fortune comen,
 And han oure sermoun of hir nomen,
 A wondir will Y telle thee now,
 Thou herdist never sich oon, I trow.
 I not where thou me leven shall,
 Though sothfastnesse it be all,
 As it is writen, and is soth,
5410 That unto men more profit doth
 The froward Fortune and contraire
 Than the swote and debonaire.
 And if thee thynke it is doutable,
 It is thurgh argument provable;
 For the debonaire and softe
 Falsith and bigilith ofte;
 For lyche a moder she can cherish,
 And mylken as doth a norys,
 And of hir goode to hem deles,
5420 And yeveth hem part of her joweles,
 With gret richeses and dignite;
 And hem she hoteth stabilite
 In a stat that is not stable,
 But chaungynge ay and variable;
 And fedith hem with glorie veyn,
 And worldly blisse noncerteyn.
 Whanne she hem settith on hir whel,
 Thanne wene they to be right wel,
 And in so stable stat withalle,
5430 That never they wene for to falle.
 And whanne they sette so highe be,
 They wene to have in certeynte
 Of hertly freendis so gret noumbre,
 That nothyng myght her stat encombre.
 They trust hem so on every side,
 Wenyng with hem they wolde abide
 In every perell and myschaunce,
 Withoute chaunge or variaunce,
 Bothe of catell and of good;
5440 And also for to spende her blood,
 And all her membris for to spille,
 Oonly to fulfille her wille.
 They maken it hool in many wise,
 And hoten hem her full servise,
 How sore that it do hem smerte,
 Into her naked sherte!
 Herte and all so hool they yive,
 For the tyme that they may lyve,
 So that with her flaterie
5450 They maken foolis glorifie
 Of her wordis spekyng,
 And han therof a rejoysyng,
 And trowe hem as the Evangile;
 And it is all falsheede and gile,
 As they shal aftirward se,
 Whanne they arn falle in poverte
 And ben of good and catell bare;
 Thanne shulde they sen who freendis ware.
 For of an hundred, certeynly,
5460 Nor of a thousand full scarsly,
 Ne shal they fynde unnethis oon,
 Whanne poverte is comen upon.
 For this Fortune that I of telle,
 With men whanne hir lust to dwelle,
 Makith hem to leese her conisaunce,
 And norishith hem in ignoraunce.
 "But froward Fortune and pervers,
 Whanne high estatis she doth revers,
 And maketh hem to tumble doun
5470 Of hir whel, with sodeyn tourn,
 And from her richesse doth hem fle,
 And plongeth hem in poverte,
 As a stepmoder envyous,
 And leieth a plastre dolorous
 Unto her hertis, wounded egre,
 Which is not tempred with vynegre,
 But with poverte and indigence,
 For to shewe, by experience,
 That she is Fortune verely,
5480 In whom no man shulde affy,
 Nor in hir yeftis have fiaunce,
 She is so full of variaunce --
 Thus kan she maken high and lowe,
 Whanne they from richesse arn throwe,
 Fully to knowen, without were,
 Freend of affect and freend of chere,
 And which in love weren trewe and stable,
 And whiche also weren variable,
 After Fortune, her goddesse,
5490 In poverte outher in richesse.
 For all she yeveth here, out of drede,
 Unhap bereveth it in dede;
 For Infortune lat not oon
 Of freendis, whanne Fortune is gon;
 I mene tho freendis that wole fle
 Anoon as entreth poverte.
 And yit they wole not leve hem so,
 But in ech place where they go
 They calle hem `wrecche,' scorne, and blame,
5500 And of her myshappe hem diffame;
 And namely siche as in richesse
 Pretendith moost of stablenesse,
 Whanne that they sawe hym sett on lofte,
 And weren of hym socoured ofte,
 And most yholpe in all her neede.
 But now they take no maner heede,
 But seyn in voice of flaterie,
 That now apperith her folye,
 Overall where so they fare,
5510 And synge, `Go, farewel, feldefare.'
 All suche freendis I beshrewe,
 For of trewe ther be to fewe.
 But sothfast freendis, what so bitide,
 In every fortune wolen abide;
 Thei han her hertis in such noblesse
 That they nyl love for no richesse,
 Nor for that Fortune may hem sende
 Thei wolen hem socoure and defende,
 And chaunge for softe ne for sore;
5520 For who is freend, loveth evermore.
 Though men drawe swerd his freend to slo,
 He may not hewe her love a-two.
 But, in cas that I shall sey,
 For pride and ire lese it he may,
 And for reprove by nycete,
 And discovering of privite,
 With tonge woundyng, as feloun,
 Thurgh venemous detraccioun.
 Frend in this cas wole gon his way,
5530 For nothyng greve hym more ne may;
 And for nought ellis wole he fle,
 If that he love in stabilite.
 And certeyn, he is wel bigon,
 Among a thousand that fyndith oon.
 For ther may be no richesse
 Ageyns frendshipp, of worthynesse;
 For it ne may so high atteigne
 As may the valour, soth to seyne,
 Of hym that loveth trew and well.
5540 Frendshipp is more than is catell.
 For freend in court ay better is
 Than peny in purs, certis;
 And Fortune myshappyng
 Whanne upon men she is fallyng,
 Thurgh mysturnyng of hir chaunce,
 And casteth hem out of balaunce,
 She makith, thurgh hir adversite,
 Men full clerly for to se
 Hym that is freend in existence
5550 From hym that is by apparence.
 For Ynfortune makith anoon
 To knowe thy freendis fro thy foon,
 By experience, right as it is,
 The which is more to preise, ywis,
 Than is myche richesse and tresour.
 For more doth profit and valour
 Poverte and such adversite
 Bifore, than doth prosperite;
 For the toon yeveth conysaunce,
5560 And the tother ignoraunce.
 "And thus in poverte is in dede
 Trouthe declared fro falsheede;
 For feynte frendis it wole declare,
 And trewe also, what wey they fare.
 For whanne he was in his richesse,
 These freendis, ful of doublenesse,
 Offrid hym in many wise
 Hert, and body, and servise.
 What wolde he thanne ha yove to ha bought
5570 To knowen openly her thought,
 That he now hath so clerly seen?
 The lasse bigiled he shulde have ben,
 And he hadde thanne perceyved it;
 But richesse nold not late hym wit.
 Wel more avauntage doth hym than,
 Sith that it makith hym a wise man,
 The gret myscheef that he receyveth,
 Than doth richesse that hym deceyveth.
 Richesse riche ne makith nought
5580 Hym that on tresour set his thought;
 For richesse stont in suffisaunce
 And nothyng in habundaunce;
 For suffisaunce all oonly
 Makith men to lyve richely.
 For he that at mycches tweyne
 Ne valued [is. in his demeigne,
 Lyveth more at ese, and more is riche,
 Than doth he that is chiche,
 And in his berne hath, soth to seyn,
5590 An hundred mowis of whete greyn,
 Though he be chapman or marchaunt,
 And have of gold many besaunt.
 For in the getyng he hath such woo,
 And in the kepyng drede also,
 And set evermore his bisynesse
 For to encrese, and not to lesse,
 For to aument and multiply.
 And though on hepis it lye hym by,
 Yit never shal make his richesse
5600 Asseth unto his gredynesse.
 But the povre that recchith nought,
 Save of his lyflode, in his thought,
 Which that he getith with his travaile,
 He dredith nought that it shall faile,
 Though he have lytel worldis good,
 Mete, and drynke, and esy food,
 Upon his travel and lyvyng,
 And also suffisaunt clothyng.
 Or if in syknesse that he falle,
5610 And loth. mete and drynke withalle,
 Though he have noght his mete to by,
 He shal bithynke hym hastily,
 To putte hym oute of all daunger,
 That he of mete hath no myster;
 Or that he may with lytel ek
 Be founden, while that he is sek;
 Or that men shull hym beren in hast,
 To lyve til his syknesse be past,
 To som maysondew biside;
5620 He cast nought what shal hym bitide.
 He thenkith nought that evere he shall
 Into ony syknesse fall.
 "And though it falle, as it may be,
 That all betyme spare shall he
 As mochel as shal to hym suffice,
 While he is sik in ony wise,
 He doth [it] for that he wole be
 Content with his poverte
 Withoute nede of ony man.
5630 So myche in litel have he can,
 He is apaied with his fortune;
 And for he nyl be importune
 Unto no wight, ne onerous,
 Nor of her goodes coveitous,
 Therfore he spareth, it may wel ben,
 His pore estat for to susten.
 "Or if hym lust not for to spare,
 But suffrith forth, as noght ne ware,
 Atte last it hapneth, as it may,
5640 Right unto his laste day,
 And taketh the world as it wolde be;
 For evere in herte thenkith he,
 The sonner that deth hym slo,
 To paradys the sonner go
 He shal, there for to lyve in blisse,
 Where that he shal noo good misse.
 Thider he hopith God shal hym sende
 Aftir his wrecchid lyves ende.
 Pictigoras hymsilf reherses
5650 In a book that `The Golden Verses'
 Is clepid, for the nobilite
 Of the honourable ditee: --
 `Thanne, whanne thou gost thy body fro,
 Fre in the eir thou shalt up go,
 And leven al humanite,
 And purely lyve in deite.'
 He is a fool, withouten were,
 That trowith have his countre heere.
 `In erthe is not oure countre,'
5660 That may these clerkis seyn and see
 In Boece of Consolacioun,
 Where it is maked mencioun
 Of oure contre pleyn at the ye,
 By teching of Philosophie,
 Where lewid men myght lere wit,
 Whoso that wolde translaten it.
 If he be sich that can wel lyve
 Aftir his rente may hym yive,
 And not desireth more to have
5670 Than may fro poverte hym save,
 A wise man seide, as we may seen,
 Is no man wrecched, but he it wen,
 Be he kyng, knyght, or ribaud.
 And many a ribaud is mery and baud,
 That swynkith, and berith, bothe day and nyght,
 Many a burthen of gret myght,
 The whiche doth hym lasse offense
 For he suffrith in pacience.
 They laugh and daunce, trippe and synge,
5680 And ley not up for her lyvynge,
 But in the taverne all dispendith
 The wynnyng that God hem sendith.
 Thanne goth he, fardeles for to ber
 With as good chere as he dide er.
 To swynke and traveile he not feynith,
 For for to robben he disdeynith.
 But right anoon aftir his swynk
 He goth to taverne for to drynk.
 All these ar riche in abundaunce
5690 That can thus have suffisaunce
 Wel more than can an usurere,
 As God wel knowith, withoute were.
 For an usurer, so God me se,
 Shal nevere for richesse riche be,
 But evermore pore and indigent,
 Scarce and gredy in his entent.
 "For soth it is, whom it displese,
 Ther may no marchaunt lyve at ese;
 His herte in sich a were is sett
5700 That it quyk brenneth [more] to get,
 Ne never shal ynogh have geten,
 Though he have gold in gerners yeten,
 For to be nedy he dredith sore.
 Wherfore to geten more and more
 He set his herte and his desir;
 So hote he brennyth in the fir
 Of coveitise, that makith hym wood
 To purchace other mennes good.
 He undirfongith a gret peyne,
5710 That undirtakith to drynke up Seyne;
 For the more he drynkith, ay
 The more he leveth, the soth to say.
 Thus is thurst of fals getyng,
 That last ever in coveityng,
 And the angwisshe and distresse
 With the fir of gredynesse.
 She fightith with hym ay, and stryveth,
 That his herte asondre ryveth.
 Such gredynesse hym assaylith
5720 That whanne he most hath, most he failith.
 Phisiciens and advocates
 Gon right by the same yates;
 They selle her science for wynnyng,
 And haunte her craft for gret getyng.
 Her wynnyng is of such swetnesse
 That if a man falle in siknesse,
 They are full glad for her encres;
 For by her wille, withoute lees,
 Everich man shulde be sek,
5730 And though they die, they sette not a lek.
 After, whanne they the gold have take,
 Full litel care for hem they make.
 They wolde that fourty were seke at onys,
 Ye, two hundred, in flesh and bonys,
 And yit two thousand, as I gesse,
 For to encrecen her richesse.
 They wole not worchen, in no wise,
 But for lucre and coveitise.
 For fysic gynneth first by fy,
5740 The physicien also sothely;
 And sithen it goth fro fy to sy:
 To truste on hem is foly;
 For they nyl, in no maner gre,
 Do right nought for charite.
 "Eke in the same secte ar sett
 All tho that prechen for to get
 Worshipes, honour, and richesse.
 Her hertis arn in gret distresse
 That folk lyve not holily.
5750 But aboven all, specialy,
 Sich as prechen [for] veynglorie,
 And toward God have no memorie,
 But forth as ypocrites trace,
 And to her soules deth purchace,
 And outward shewen holynesse,
 Though they be full of cursidnesse.
 Not liche to the apostles twelve,
 They deceyve other and hemselve.
 Bigiled is the giler than,
5760 For prechyng of a cursed man,
 Though [it] to other may profite,
 Hymsilf it availeth not a myte;
 For ofte good predicacioun
 Cometh of evel entencioun.
 To hym not vailith his preching,
 All helpe he other with his teching;
 For where they good ensaumple take,
 There is he with veynglorie shake.
 "But late us leven these prechoures,
5770 And speke of hem that in her toures
 Hepe up hir gold, and faste shette,
 And sore theron her herte sette.
 They neither love God ne drede;
 They kepe more than it is nede,
 And in her bagges sore it bynde,
 Out of the sonne and of the wynde.
 They putte up more than nede ware,
 Whanne they seen pore folk forfare,
 For hunger die, and for cold quake.
5780 God can wel vengeaunce therof take!
 Three gret myscheves hem assailith,
 And thus in gadring ay travaylith.
 With myche peyne they wynne richesse;
 And drede hem holdith in distresse
 To kepe that they gadre faste;
 With sorwe they leve it at the laste.
 With sorwe they bothe dye and lyve,
 That unto richesse her hertis yive;
 And in defaute of love it is,
5790 As it shewith ful wel, iwys.
 For if thise gredy, the sothe to seyn,
 Loveden and were loved ageyn,
 And good love regned overall,
 Such wikkidnesse ne shulde fall;
 But he shulde yeve that most good had
 To hem that weren in nede bistad,
 And lyve withoute false usure,
 For charite full clene and pure.
 If they hem yeve to goodnesse,
5800 Defendyng hem from ydelnesse,
 In all this world thanne pore noon
 We shulde fynde, I trowe, not oon.
 But chaunged is this world unstable,
 For love is overall vendable.
 We se that no man loveth now,
 But for wynnyng and for prow;
 And love is thralled in servage,
 Whanne it is sold for avauntage.
 Yit wommen wole her bodyes selle;
5810 Suche soules goth to the devel of helle!"

---

The Romaunt of the Rose

Fragment C

 Whanne Love hadde told hem his entente,
 The baronage to councel wente.
 In many sentences they fille,
 And dyversely they seide hir wille;
 But aftir discord they accorded,
 And her accord to Love recorded.
 "Sir," seiden they, "we ben at on,
 Bi evene accord of everichon,
 Out-take Richesse al oonly,
5820 That sworen hath ful hauteynly,
 That she the castel nyl not assaile,
 Ne smyte a strok in this bataile,
 With darte, ne mace, spere, ne knyf,
 For man that spekith or berith the lyf,
 And blameth youre emprise, iwys,
 And from oure hoost departed is,
 Atte leste wey, as in this plyt,
 So hath she this man in dispit.
 For she seith he ne loved hir never,
5830 And therfore she wole hate hym evere.
 For he wole gadre no tresor,
 He hath hir wrath for evermor.
 He agylte hir never in other caas,
 Lo, heere all hoolly his trespas!
 She seith wel that this other day
 He axide hir leve to gon the way
 That is clepid To-Moche-Yevyng,
 And spak full faire in his praiyng;
 But whanne he praiede hir, pore was he,
5840 Therfore she warned hym the entre.
 Ne yit is he not thryven so
 That he hath geten a peny or two
 That quytly is his owne in hold.
 Thus hath Richesse us alle told,
 And whanne Richesse us this recorded,
 Withouten hir we ben accorded.
 "And we fynde in oure accordaunce
 That Fals-Semblant and Abstinaunce,
 With all the folk of her bataille,
5850 Shull at the hyndre gate assayle,
 That Wikkid-Tunge hath in kepyng,
 With his Normans full of janglyng.
 And with hem Curtesie and Largesse,
 That shull shewe her hardynesse
 To the olde wyf that kepte so harde
 Fair-Welcomyng withynne her warde.
 Thanne shal Delit and Wel-Heelynge
 Fonde Shame adown to brynge;
 With all her oost, erly and late,
5860 They shull assailen that ilke gate.
 Agaynes Drede shall Hardynesse
 Assayle, and also Sikernesse,
 With all the folk of her ledyng,
 That never wist what was fleyng.
 "Fraunchise shall fight, and eke Pite,
 With Daunger, full of cruelte.
 Thus is youre hoost ordeyned wel.
 Doun shall the castell every del,
 If everich do his entent,
5870 So that Venus be present,
 Youre modir, full of vasselage,
 That can ynough of such usage.
 Withouten hir may no wight spede
 This werk, neithir for word ne deede;
 Therfore is good ye for hir sende,
 For thurgh hir may this werk amende."
 "Lordynges, my modir, the goddesse,
 That is my lady and my maistresse,
 Nis not [at] all at my willyng,
5880 Ne doth not all my desiryng.
 Yit can she som tyme don labour,
 Whanne that hir lust, in my socour,
 Al my nedes for to acheve,
 But now I thenke hir not to greve.
 My modir is she, and of childhede
 I bothe worshipe hir and eke drede;
 For who that dredith sire ne dame,
 Shal it abye in body or name.
 And, natheles, yit kunne we
5890 Sende aftir hir, if nede be;
 And were she nygh, she comen wolde;
 I trowe that nothyng myght hir holde.
 "Mi modir is of gret prowesse;
 She hath tan many a forteresse,
 That cost hath many a pound, er this,
 There I nas not present, ywis.
 And yit men seide it was my dede;
 But I com never in that stede,
 Ne me ne likith, so mote I the,
5900 That such toures ben take withoute me.
 For-why me thenkith that, in no wise,
 It may ben clepid but marchandise.
 "Go bye a courser, blak or whit,
 And pay therfore; than art thou quyt.
 The marchaunt owith thee right nought,
 Ne thou hym, whanne thou it bought.
 I wole not sellyng clepe yevyng,
 For sellyng axeth no guerdonyng:
 Here lith no thank ne no merit;
5910 That oon goth from that other al quyt.
 But this sellyng is not semblable;
 For whanne his hors is in the stable,
 He may it selle ageyn, parde,
 And wynnen on it, such hap may be;
 All may the man not leese, iwys,
 For at the leest the skyn is his.
 Or ellis, if it so bitide
 That he wole kepe his hors to ride,
 Yit is he lord ay of his hors.
5920 But thilke chaffare is wel wors,
 There Venus entremetith ought.
 For whoso such chaffare hath bought,
 He shal not worchen so wisely
 That he ne shal leese al outerly
 Bothe his money and his chaffare;
 But the seller of the ware
 The prys and profit have shall.
 Certeyn, the bier shal leese all.
 For he ne can so dere it bye
5930 To have lordship and full maistrie,
 Ne have power to make lettyng,
 Neithir for yift ne for prechyng,
 That of his chaffare, maugre his,
 Another shal have as moche, iwis,
 If he wol yeve as myche as he,
 Of what contrey so that he be --
 Or for right nought, so happe may,
 If he can flater hir to hir pay.
 Ben thanne siche marchauntz wise?
5940 No, but fooles in every wise,
 Whanne they bye sich thyng wilfully,
 There as they leese her good fully.
 But natheles, this dar I saye,
 My modir is not wont to paye,
 For she is neither so fool ne nyce
 To entremete hir of sich vice.
 But truste wel, he shal pay all,
 That repent of his bargeyn shall,
 Whanne poverte putte hym in distresse,
5950 All were he scoler to Richesse,
 That is for me in gret yernyng,
 Whanne she assentith to my willyng.
 "But [by] my modir, seint Venus,
 And by hir fader Saturnus,
 That hir engendride by his lyf --
 But not upon his weddid wyf --
 Yit wole I more unto you swer,
 To make this thyng the seurere --
 Now by that feith and that leaute
5960 That I owe to all my britheren fre,
 Of which ther nys wight undir heven
 That kan her fadris names neven,
 So dyverse and so many ther be
 That with my modir have be prive!
 Yit wolde I swere, for sikirnesse,
 The pol of helle to my witnesse --
 Now drynke I not this yeer clarre,
 If that I lye or forsworn be!
 (For of the goddes the usage is
5970 That whoso hym forswereth amys
 Shal that yeer drynke no clarre.)
 Now have I sworn ynough, pardee,
 If I forswere me, thanne am I lorn,
 But I wole never be forsworn.
 Syth Richesse hath me failed heere,
 She shal abye that trespas ful dere,
 Atte leeste wey, but [she] hir arme
 With swerd, or sparth, or gysarme.
 For certis, sith she loveth not me,
5980 Fro thilke tyme that she may se
 The castell and the tour toshake,
 In sory tyme she shal awake.
 If I may grype a riche man,
 I shal so pulle hym, if I can,
 That he shal in a fewe stoundes
 Lese all his markis and his poundis.
 I shal hym make his pens outslynge,
 But they in his gerner sprynge.
 Oure maydens shal eke pluk hym so
5990 That hym shal neden fetheres mo,
 And make hym selle his lond to spende,
 But he the bet kunne hym defende.
 "Pore men han maad her lord of me;
 Although they not so myghty be
 That they may fede me in delit,
 I wol not have hem in despit.
 No good man hateth hem, as I gesse,
 For chynche and feloun is Richesse,
 That so can chase hem and dispise,
6000 And hem defoule in sondry wise.
 They loven full bet, so God me spede,
 Than doth the riche, chynchy gnede,
 And ben, in good feith, more stable
 And trewer and more serviable;
 And therfore it suffisith me
 Her goode herte and her leaute.
 They han on me set all her thought,
 And therfore I forgete hem nought.
 I wol hem bringe in gret noblesse,
6010 If that I were god of richesse,
 As I am god of love sothly,
 Sich routhe upon her pleynt have I.
 Therfore I must his socour be,
 That peyneth hym to serven me,
 For if he deide for love of this,
 Thanne semeth in me no love ther is."
 "Sir," seide they, "soth is every deel
 That ye reherce, and we wote wel
 Thilk oth to holde is resonable;
6020 For it is good and covenable
 That ye on riche men han sworn.
 For, sir, this wote we wel biforn:
 If riche men don you homage,
 That is as fooles don outrage;
 But ye shull not forsworn be,
 Ne lette therfore to drynke clarre,
 Or pyment makid fresh and newe.
 Ladies shull hem such pepir brewe,
 If that they fall into her laas,
6030 That they for woo mowe seyn `allas!'
 Ladyes shullen evere so curteis be
 That they shal quyte youre oth all free.
 Ne sekith never othir vicaire,
 For they shal speke with hem so faire
 That ye shal holde you paied full wel,
 Though ye you medle never a del.
 Late ladies worche with her thyngis,
 They shal hem telle so fele tidynges,
 And moeve hem eke so many requestis
6040 Bi flateri, that not honest is,
 And therto yeve hem such thankynges,
 What with kissyng and with talkynges,
 That, certis, if they trowed be,
 Shal never leve hem lond ne fee
 That it nyl as the moeble fare,
 Of which they first delyverid are.
 Now may ye telle us all youre wille,
 And we youre heestes shal fulfille.
 "But Fals-Semblant dar not, for drede
6050 Of you, sir, medle hym of this dede,
 For he seith that ye ben his foo;
 He not if ye wole worche hym woo.
 Wherfore we pray you alle, beau sire,
 That ye forgyve hym now your ire,
 And that he may dwelle, as your man,
 With Abstinence, his dere lemman;
 This oure accord and oure wille now."
 "Parfay," seide Love, "I graunte it yow.
 I wole wel holde hym for my man;
6060 Now late hym come" -- and he forth ran.
 "Fals-Semblant," quod Love, "in this wise
 I take thee heere to my servise,
 That thou oure freendis helpe alway,
 And hyndre hem neithir nyght ne day,
 But do thy myght hem to releve,
 And eke oure enemyes that thou greve.
 Thyn be this myght, I graunte it thee,
 My kyng of harlotes shalt thou be;
 We wole that thou have such honour.
6070 Certeyn, thou art a fals traitour,
 And eke a theef; sith thou were born,
 A thousand tyme thou art forsworn.
 But natheles, in oure heryng,
 To putte oure folk out of doutyng,
 I bidde thee teche hem, wostow how,
 Bi som general signe now,
 In what place thou shalt founden be,
 If that men had myster of thee;
 And how men shal thee best espye,
6080 For thee to knowe is gret maistrie.
 Telle in what place is thyn hauntyng."
 "Sir, I have fele dyvers wonyng,
 That I kepe not rehersed be,
 So that ye wolde respiten me.
 For if that I telle you the sothe,
 I may have harm and shame bothe.
 If that my felowes wisten it,
 My talis shulden me be quytt;
 For certeyn, they wolde hate me,
6090 If ever I knewe her cruelte.
 For they wolde overall holde hem stille
 Of trouthe that is ageyne her wille;
 Suche tales kepen they not here.
 I myght eftsoone bye it full deere,
 If I seide of hem ony thing
 That ought displesith to her heryng.
 For what word that hem prikke or biteth,
 In that word noon of hem deliteth,
 Al were it gospel, the evangile,
6100 That wolde reprove hem of her gile,
 For they are cruel and hauteyn.
 And this thyng wot I well, certeyn,
 If I speke ought to peire her loos,
 Your court shal not so well be cloos
 That they ne shall wite it atte last.
 Of good men am I nought agast,
 For they wole taken on hem nothyng,
 Whanne that they knowe al my menyng;
 But he that wole it on hym take,
6110 He wole hymsilf suspecious make,
 That he his lyf let covertly
 In Gile and in Ipocrisy
 That me engendred and yaf fostryng."
 "They made a full good engendryng,"
 Quod Love, "for whoso sothly telle,
 They engendred the devel of helle!
 But nedely, howsoevere it be,"
 Quod Love, "I wole and charge thee
 To telle anoon thy wonyng places,
6120 Heryng ech wight that in this place is.
 And what lyf that thou lyvest also.
 Hide it no lenger now; wherto?
 Thou most discovere all thi wurchyng,
 How thou servest, and of what thyng,
 Though that thou shuldist for thi soth-sawe
 Ben al tobeten and todrawe --
 And yit art thou not wont, pardee.
 But natheles, though thou beten be,
 Thou shalt not be the first that so
6130 Hath for sothsawe suffred woo."
 "Sir, sith that it may liken you,
 Though that I shulde be slayn right now,
 I shal don youre comaundement,
 For therto have I gret talent."
 Withouten wordis mo, right than,
 Fals-Semblant his sermon bigan,
 And seide hem thus in audience:
 "Barouns, take heede of my sentence!
 That wight that list to have knowing
6140 Of Fals-Semblant, full of flatering,
 He must in worldly folk hym seke,
 And, certes, in the cloistres eke.
 I wone nowhere but in hem tweye,
 But not lyk even, soth to seye.
 Shortly, I wole herberwe me
 There I hope best to hulstred be,
 And certeynly, sikerest hidyng
 Is undirnethe humblest clothing.
 Religiouse folk ben full covert;
6150 Seculer folk ben more appert.
 But natheles, I wole not blame
 Religious folk, ne hem diffame,
 In what habit that ever they go.
 Religioun umble and trewe also,
 Wole I not blame ne dispise;
 But I nyl love it, in no wise.
 I mene of fals religious,
 That stoute ben and malicious,
 That wolen in an abit goo,
6160 And setten not her herte therto.
 "Religious folk ben al pitous;
 Thou shalt not seen oon dispitous.
 They loven no pride ne no strif,
 But humbly they wole lede her lyf.
 With swich folk wole I never be,
 And if I dwelle, I feyne me.
 I may wel in her abit go;
 But me were lever my nekke a-two,
 Than lete a purpos that I take,
6170 What covenaunt that ever I make.
 I dwelle with hem that proude be,
 And full of wiles and subtilte,
 That worship of this world coveiten,
 And grete nedes kunnen espleiten,
 And gon and gadren gret pitaunces,
 And purchace hem the acqueyntaunces
 Of men that myghty lyf may leden;
 And feyne hem pore, and hemsilf feden
 With gode morcels delicious,
6180 And drinken good wyn precious,
 And preche us povert and distresse,
 And fisshen hemsilf gret richesse
 With wily nettis that they caste.
 It wole come foule out at the laste.
 They ben fro clene religioun went;
 They make the world an argument
 That [hath. a foul conclusioun.
 `I have a robe of religioun,
 Thanne am I all religious.'
6190 This argument is all roignous;
 It is not worth a croked brere.
 Abit ne makith neithir monk ne frere,
 But clene lyf and devocioun
 Makith gode men of religioun.
 Natheles, ther kan noon answere,
 How high that evere his heed he shere,
 With resoun whetted never so kene,
 That Gile in braunches kut thrittene;
 Ther can no wight distincte it so,
6200 That he dar sey a word therto.
 "But what herberwe that ever I take,
 Or what semblant that evere I make,
 I mene but gile, and folowe that;
 For right no mo than Gibbe oure cat,
 Ne entende I but to bigilyng.
 Ne no wight may by my clothing
 Wite with what folk is my dwellyng,
 Ne by my wordis yit, parde,
6210 So softe and so plesaunt they be.
 Bihold the dedis that I do;
 But thou be blynd, thou oughtest so;
 For, varie her wordis fro her deede,
 They thenke on gile, withoute dreede,
 What maner clothing that they were,
 Or what estat that evere they bere,
 Lered or lewde, lord or lady,
 Knyght, squyer, burgeis, or bayly."
 Right thus while Fals-Semblant sermoneth,
6220 Eftsones Love hym aresoneth,
 And brak his tale in his spekyng,
 As though he had hym told lesyng,
 And seide, "What, devel, is that I here?
 What folk hast thou us nempned heere?
 May men fynde religioun
 In worldly habitacioun?"
 "Ye, sir; it folowith not that they
 Shulde lede a wikked lyf, parfey,
 Ne not therfore her soules leese
6230 That hem to worldly clothes chese;
 For, certis, it were gret pitee.
 Men may in seculer clothes see
 Florishen hooly religioun.
 Full many a seynt in feeld and toun,
 With many a virgine glorious,
 Devout, and full religious,
 Han deied, that comun cloth ay beeren,
 Yit seyntes nevere the lesse they weren.
 I cowde reken you many a ten;
6240 Ye, wel nygh [al] these hooly wymmen
 That men in chirchis herie and seke,
 Bothe maydens and these wyves eke
 That baren full many a fair child heere,
 Wered alwey clothis seculere,
 And in the same dieden they
 That seyntes weren, and ben alwey.
 The eleven thousand maydens deere
 That beren in heven hir ciergis clere,
 Of whiche men rede in chirche and synge,
6250 Were take in seculer clothinge
 Whanne they resseyved martirdom,
 And wonnen hevene unto her hom.
 Good herte makith the goode thought;
 The clothing yeveth ne reveth nought.
 The goode thought and the worching,
 That makith the religioun flowryng,
 Ther lyth the good religioun,
 Aftir the right entencioun.
 "Whoso took a wethers skyn,
6260 And wrapped a gredy wolf theryn,
 For he shulde go with lambis whyte,
 Wenest thou not he wolde hem bite?
 Yis, neverthelasse, as he were wood,
 He wolde hem wery and drinke the blood,
 And wel the rather hem disceyve;
 For, sith they cowde not perceyve
 His treget and his cruelte,
 They wolde hym folowe, al wolde he fle.
 "If ther be wolves of sich hewe
6270 Amonges these apostlis newe,
 Thou hooly chirche, thou maist be wailed!
 Sith that thy citee is assayled
 Thourgh knyghtis of thyn owne table,
 God wot thi lordship is doutable!
 If thei enforce [hem] it to wynne
 That shulde defende it fro withynne,
 Who myght defense ayens hem make?
 Withoute strok it mot be take
 Of trepeget or mangonel,
6280 Without displaiyng of pensel.
 And if God nyl don it socour,
 But lat [hem] renne in this colour,
 Thou most thyn heestis laten be.
 Thanne is ther nought but yelde thee,
 Or yeve hem tribut, doutelees,
 And holde it of hem to have pees,
 But gretter harm bitide thee,
 That they al maister of it be.
 Wel konne they scorne thee withal;
6290 By day stuffen they the wall,
 And al the nyght they mynen there.
 Nay, thou planten most elleswhere
 Thyn ympes, if thou wolt fruyt have;
 Abid not there thisilf to save.
 "But now pees! Heere I turne ageyn.
 I wole nomore of this thing seyn,
 If I may passen me herby;
 I myghte maken you wery.
 But I wole heten you alway
6300 To helpe youre freendis what I may,
 So they wollen my company;
 For they be shent al outerly,
 But if so falle that I be
 Ofte with hem, and they with me.
 And eke my lemman mote they serve,
 Or they shull not my love deserve.
 Forsothe, I am a fals traitour;
 God jugged me for a theef trichour.
 Forsworn I am, but wel nygh non
6310 Wot of my gile, til it be don.
 "Thourgh me hath many oon deth resseyved,
 That my treget nevere aperceyved;
 And yit resseyveth, and shal resseyve,
 That my falsnesse shal nevere aperceyve.
 But whoso doth, if he wis be,
 Hym is right good be war of me,
 But so sligh is the deceyvyng
 For Protheus, that cowde hym chaunge
6320 In every shap, homly and straunge,
 Cowde nevere sich gile ne tresoun
 As I; for I com never in toun
 There as I myghte knowen be,
 Though men me bothe myght here and see.
 Full wel I can my clothis chaunge,
 Take oon, and make another straunge.
 Now am I knyght, now chasteleyn,
 Now prelat, and now chapeleyn,
 Now prest, now clerk, and now forster;
6330 Now am I maister, now scoler,
 Now monk, now chanoun, now baily;
 Whatever myster man am I.
 Now am I prince, now am I page,
 And kan by herte every langage.
 Som tyme am I hor and old;
 Now am I yong, stout, and bold;
 Now am I Robert, now Robyn,
 Now Frere Menour, now Jacobyn;
 And with me folwith my loteby,
6340 To don me solas and company,
 That hight Dame Abstinence-Streyned,
 In many a queynte array feyned.
 Ryght as it cometh to hir lykyng,
 I fulfille al hir desiryng.
 Somtyme a wommans cloth take I;
 Now am I a mayde, now lady.
 Somtyme I am religious;
 Now lyk an anker in an hous.
 Somtyme am I prioresse,
6350 And now a nonne, and now abbesse;
 And go thurgh alle regiouns,
 Sekyng alle religiouns.
 But to what ordre that I am sworn,
 I take the strawe, and lete the corn.
 To gyle folk I enhabit;
 I axe nomore but her abit.
 What wole ye more in every wise?
 Right as me lyst, I me disgise.
 Wel can I wre me undir wede;
6360 Unlyk is my word to my dede.
 [I] make into my trappis falle,
 Thurgh my pryveleges, alle
 That ben in Cristendom alyve.
 I may assoile and I may shryve,
 That no prelat may lette me,
 All folk, where evere thei founde be.
 I not no prelat may don so,
 But it the pope be, and no mo,
 That made thilk establisshing.
6370 Now is not this a propre thing?
 But, were my sleightis aperceyved
 As I was wont, and wostow why?
 For I dide hem a tregetry.
 But therof yeve I lytel tale;
 I have the silver and the male.
 So have I prechid, and eke shriven,
 So have I take, so have me yiven,
 Thurgh her foly, husbonde and wyf,
6380 That I lede right a joly lyf,
 Thurgh symplesse of the prelacye --
 They knowe not al my tregettrie.
 "But forasmoche as man and wyf
 Shulde shewe her paroch-prest her lyf,
 Onys a yeer, as seith the book,
 Er ony wight his housel took,
 Thanne have I pryvylegis large,
 That may of myche thing discharge.
 For he may seie right thus, parde:
6390 `Sir preest, in shrift I telle it thee,
 That he to whom that I am shryven
 Hath me assoiled, and me yiven
 Penaunce, sothly, for my synne,
 Which that I fond me gilty ynne;
 Ne I ne have nevere entencioun
 To make double confessioun,
 Ne reherce eft my shrift to thee.
 O shrift is right ynough to me.
 This oughte thee suffice wel;
6400 Ne be not rebel never a del.
 For certis, though thou haddist it sworn,
 I wot no prest ne prelat born,
 That may to shrift eft me constreyne;
 And if they don, I wole me pleyne,
 For I wot where to pleyne wel.
 Thou shalt not streyne me a del,
 Ne enforce me, ne not me trouble,
 To make my confessioun double.
 Ne I have non affeccioun
6410 To have double absolucioun.
 The firste is right ynough to me;
 This latter assoilyng quyte I thee.
 I am unbounde -- what maist thou fynde
 More of my synnes me to unbynde?
 For he, that myght hath in his hond,
 Of all my synnes me unbond.
 And if thou wolt me thus constreyne
 That me mot nedis on thee pleyne,
 There shall no jugge imperial,
6420 Ne bisshop, ne official,
 Don jugement on me; for I
 Shal gon and pleyne me openly
 Unto my shrifte-fadir newe
 (That hight not Frere Wolf untrewe!),
 And he shal cheveys hym for me,
 For I trowe he can hampre thee.
 But, Lord, he wolde be wrooth withalle,
 If men hym wolde Frere Wolf calle!
 For he wolde have no pacience,
6430 But don al cruel vengeaunce.
 He wolde his myght don at the leeste,
 Nothing spare for Goddis heeste.
 And, God so wys be my socour,
 But thou yeve me my Savyour
 At Ester, whanne it likith me,
 Withoute presyng more on thee,
 I wole forth, and to hym gon,
 And he shal housel me anoon.
 For I am out of thi grucching;
6440 I kepe not dele with thee nothing.'
 "Thus may he shryve hym, that forsaketh
 His paroch-prest, and to me taketh.
 And if the prest wole hym refuse,
 I am full redy hym to accuse,
 And hym punysshe and hampre so
 That he his chirche shal forgo.
 "But whoso hath in his felyng
 The consequence of such shryvyng,
 Shal sen that prest may never have myght
6450 To knowe the conscience aright
 Of hym that is undir his cure.
 And this ageyns holy scripture,
 That biddith every heerde honest
 Have verry knowing of his beest.
 But pore folk that gone by strete,
 That have no gold, ne sommes grete,
 Hem wolde I lete to her prelates,
 Or lete her prestis knowe her states,
 For to me right nought yeve they.
6460 And why? It is for they ne may.
 They ben so bare, I take no kep,
 But I wole have the fatte sheep;
 Lat parish prestis have the lene.
 I yeve not of her harm a bene!
 And if that prelates grucchen it,
 That oughten wroth be in her wit
 To leese her fatte beestes so,
 I shal yeve hem a strok or two,
 That they shal leesen with force,
6470 Ye, bothe her mytre and her croce.
 Thus jape I hem, and have do longe,
 My pryveleges ben so stronge."
 Fals-Semblant wolde have stynted heere,
 But Love ne made hym no such cheere
 That he was wery of his sawe;
 But for to make hym glad and fawe,
 He seide, "Telle on more specialy
 Hou that thou servest untrewly.
 Telle forth, and shame thee never a del;
6480 For, as thyn abit shewith wel,
 Thou semest an hooly heremyte."
 "Soth is, but I am an ypocrite."
 "Thou gost and prechest poverte."
 "Ye, sir, but richesse hath pouste."
 "Thou prechest abstinence also."
 "Sir, I wole fillen, so mote I go,
 My paunche of good mete and wyn,
 As shulde a maister of dyvyn;
 For how that I me pover feyne,
6490 Yit alle pore folk I disdeyne.
 "I love bettir th' acqueyntaunce,
 Ten tyme, of the kyng of Fraunce
 Than of a pore man of mylde mod,
 Though that his soule be also god.
 For whanne I see beggers quakyng,
 Naked on myxnes al stynkyng,
 For hungre crie, and eke for care,
 I entremete not of her fare.
 They ben so pore and ful of pyne,
6500 They myght not oonys yeve me dyne,
 For they have nothing but her lyf.
 What shulde he yeve that likketh his knyf?
 It is but foly to entremete,
 To seke in houndes nest fat mete.
 Lete bere hem to the spitel anoon,
 But, for me, comfort gete they noon.
 But a riche sik usurer
 Wolde I visite and drawe ner;
 Hym wole I comforte and rehete,
6510 For I hope of his gold to gete.
 And if that wikkid deth hym have,
 I wole go with hym to his grave.
 And if ther ony reprove me,
 Why that I lete the pore be,
 Wostow how I mot ascape?
 I sey, and swere hym ful rape,
 That riche men han more tecches
 Of synne than han pore wrecches,
 And han of counsel more mister,
6520 And therfore I wole drawe hem ner.
 But as gret hurt, it may so be,
 Hath a soule in right gret poverte
 As soule in gret richesse, forsothe,
 Al be it that they hurten bothe.
 For richesse and mendicitees
 Ben clepid two extremytees;
 The mene is cleped suffisaunce;
 Ther lyth of vertu the aboundaunce.
 For Salamon, full wel I wot,
6530 In his Parablis us wrot,
 As it is knowe to many a wight,
 In his thrittene chapitre right,
 `God thou me kepe, for thi pouste,
 Fro richesse and mendicite;
 For if a riche man hym dresse
 To thenke to myche on richesse,
 His herte on that so fer is set
 That he his creatour foryet;
 And hym that begging wole ay greve,
6540 How shulde I bi his word hym leve?
 Unnethe that he nys a mycher
 Forsworn, or ellis God is lyer.'
 Thus seith Salamones sawes.
 Ne we fynde writen in no lawis,
 And namely in oure Cristen lay,
 (Whoso seith `ye,' I dar sey `nay')
 That Crist, ne his apostlis dere,
 While that they walkide in erthe heere,
 Were never seen her bred beggyng,
6550 For they nolden beggen for nothing.
 And right thus was men wont to teche,
 And in this wise wolde it preche
 The maistres of divinite
 Somtyme in Parys the citee.
 "And if men wolde ther-geyn appose
 The nakid text, and lete the glose,
 It myghte soone assoiled be;
 For men may wel the sothe see,
 That, parde, they myght aske a thing
6560 Pleynly forth, without begging.
 For they weren Goddis herdis deere,
 And cure of soules hadden heere,
 They nolde nothing begge her fode;
 For aftir Crist was don on rode,
 With ther propre hondis they wrought,
 And with travel, and ellis nought,
 They wonnen all her sustenaunce,
 And lyveden forth in her penaunce,
 And the remenaunt yave awey
6570 To other pore folkis alwey.
 They neither bilden tour ne halle,
 But ley in houses smale withalle.
 A myghty man, that can and may,
 Shulde with his hond and body alway
 Wynne hym his fode in laboring,
 If he ne have rent or sich a thing,
 Although he be religious,
 And God to serven curious.
 Thus mot he don, or do trespas,
6580 But if it be in certeyn cas,
 That I can reherce, if myster be,
 Right wel, whanne the tyme I se.
 "Sek the book of Seynt Austyn,
 Be it in papir or perchemyn,
 There as he writ of these worchynges,
 Thou shalt seen that noon excusynges
 A parfit man ne shulde seke
 Bi wordis ne bi dedis eke,
 Although he be religious,
6590 And God to serven curious,
 That he ne shal, so mote I go,
 With propre hondis and body also,
 Gete his fode in laboryng,
 If he ne have proprete of thing.
 Yit shulde he selle all his substaunce,
 And with his swynk have sustenaunce,
 If he be parfit in bounte.
 Thus han tho bookes told me.
 For he that wole gon ydilly,
6600 And usith it ay besily
 To haunten other mennes table,
 He is a trechour, ful of fable;
 Ne he ne may, by god resoun,
 Excuse hym by his orisoun.
 For men bihoveth, in som gise,
 Somtyme leven Goddis servise
 To gon and purchasen her nede.
 Men mote eten, that is no drede,
 And slepe, and eke do other thing;
6610 So longe may they leve praiyng.
 So may they eke her praier blynne,
 While that they werke, her mete to wynne.
 Seynt Austyn wole therto accorde,
 In thilke book that I recorde.
 Justinian eke, that made lawes,
 Hath thus forboden, by olde dawes:
 `No man, up peyne to be ded,
 Mighty of body, to begge his bred,
 If he may swynke it for to gete;
6620 Men shulde hym rather mayme or bete,
 Or don of hym apert justice,
 Than suffren hym in such malice.'
 They don not wel, so mote I go,
 That taken such almesse so,
 But if they have som pryvelege,
 That of the peyne hem wole allege.
 But how that is, can I not see,
 But if the prince disseyved be;
 Ne I ne wene not, sikerly,
6630 That they may have it rightfully.
 But I wole not determine
 Of prynces power, ne defyne,
 Ne by my word comprende, iwys,
 If it so fer may strecche in this.
 I wole not entremete a del;
 But I trowe that the book seith wel,
 Who that takith almessis that be
 Dewe to folk that men may se
 Lame, feble, wery, and bare,
6640 Pore, or in such maner care --
 That konne wynne hem never mo,
 For they have no power therto --
 He etith his owne dampnyng,
 But if he lye, that made al thing.
 And if ye such a truaunt fynde,
 Chastise hym wel, if ye be kynde.
 But they wolde hate you, percas,
 And, if ye fillen in her laas,
 They wolde eftsoonys do you scathe,
6650 If that they myghte, late or rathe;
 For they be not full pacient
 That han the world thus foule blent.
 And witeth wel that [ther] God bad
 The good-man selle al that he had,
 And folowe hym, and to pore it yive,
 He wolde not therfore that he lyve
 To serven hym in mendience,
 For it was nevere his sentence;
 But he bad wirken whanne that neede is,
6660 And folwe hym in goode dedis.
 Seynt Poul, that loved al hooly chirche,
 He bad th' appostles for to wirche,
 And wynnen her lyflode in that wise,
 And hem defended truandise,
 And seide, `Wirketh with youre honden.'
 Thus shulde the thing be undirstonden:
 He nolde, iwys, have bidde hem begging,
 Ne sellen gospel, ne prechyng,
 Lest they berafte, with her askyng,
6670 Folk of her catel or of her thing.
 For in this world is many a man
 That yeveth his good, for he ne can
 Werne it for shame; or ellis he
 Wolde of the asker delyvered be,
 And, for he hym encombrith so,
 He yeveth hym good to late hym go.
 But it can hym nothyng profite;
 They lese the yift and the meryte.
 The goode folk, that Poul to preched,
6680 Profred hym ofte, whan he hem teched,
 Som of her good in charite.
 But therof right nothing tok he;
 But of his hondwerk wolde he gete
 Clothes to wryen hym, and his mete."
 "Telle me thanne how a man may lyven,
 That al his good to pore hath yiven,
 And wole but oonly bidde his bedis
 May he do so?" "Ye, sir." "And how?"
6690 "Sir, I wole gladly telle yow:
 Seynt Austyn seith a man may be
 In houses that han proprete,
 As Templers and Hospitelers,
 And as these Chanouns Regulers,
 Or White Monkes, or these Blake --
 I wole no mo ensamplis make --
 And take therof his sustenyng,
 For therynne lyth no begging;
 But other weyes not, ywys,
6700 Yif Austyn gabbith not of this.
 And yit full many a monk laboureth,
 That God in hooly chirche honoureth.
 For whanne her swynkyng is agon,
 They rede and synge in chirche anon.
 "And for ther hath ben gret discord,
 As many a wight may bere record,
 Upon the estat of mendience,
 I wole shortly, in youre presence,
 Telle how a man may begge at nede,
6710 That hath not wherwith hym to fede,
 Maugre his felones jangelyngis,
 For sothfastnesse wole none hidyngis.
 And yit, percas, I may abeye
 That I to yow sothly thus seye.
 "Lo, heere the caas especial:
 If a man be so bestial
 That he of no craft hath science,
 And nought desireth ignorence,
 Thanne may he go a-begging yerne,
6720 Til he som maner craft kan lerne,
 Thurgh which withoute truaundyng,
 He may in trouthe have his lyvyng.
 Or if he may don no labour,
 For elde, or syknesse, or langour,
 Or for his tendre age also,
 Thanne may he yit a-begging go.
 Or if he have, peraventure,
 Thurgh usage of his noriture,
 Lyved over deliciously,
6730 Thanne oughten good folk comunly
 Han of his myscheef som pitee,
 And suffren hym also that he
 May gon aboute and begge his breed,
 That he be not for hungur deed.
 Or if he have of craft kunnyng,
 And strengthe also, and desiryng
 To wirken, as he hadde what,
 But he fynde neithir this ne that,
 Thanne may he begge til that he
6740 Have geten his necessite.
 Or if his wynnyng be so lite
 That his labour wole not acquyte
 Sufficiantly al his lyvyng,
 Yit may he go his breed begging;
 Fro dore to dore he may go trace,
 Til he the remenaunt may purchace.
 Or if a man wolde undirtake
 Ony emprise for to make
 In the rescous of oure lay,
6750 And it defenden as he may,
 Be it with armes or lettrure,
 Or other covenable cure,
 If it be so he pore be,
 Thanne may he begge til that he
 May fynde in trouthe for to swynke,
 And gete hym clothes, mete, and drynke,
 Swynke he with his hondis corporell,
 And not with hondis espirituell.
 "In al thise caas, and in semblables,
6760 If that ther ben mo resonables,
 He may begge, as I telle you heere,
 And ellis nought, in no manere,
 As William Seynt Amour wolde preche,
 And ofte wolde dispute and teche
 Of this mater all openly
 At Parys full solempnely.
 And, also God my soule blesse,
 As he had, in this stedfastnesse,
 The accord of the universite
6770 And of the puple, as semeth me.
 "No good man oughte it to refuse,
 Ne ought hym therof to excuse,
 Be wroth or blithe whoso be.
 For I wole speke, and telle it thee,
 Al shulde I dye, and be putt doun,
 As was Seynt Poul, in derk prisoun;
 Or be exiled in this caas
 With wrong, as maister William was,
 That my moder, Ypocrysie,
6780 Banysshed for hir gret envye.
 "Mi modir flemed hym Seynt Amour;
 The noble dide such labour
 To susteyne evere the loyalte,
 That he to moche agilte me.
 He made a book, and lete it write,
 And wolde ich reneyed begging,
 And lyved by my traveylyng,
 If I ne had rent ne other good.
6790 What? Wened he that I were wood?
 For labour myght me never plese.
 I have more wille to ben at ese,
 And have wel lever, soth to seye,
 Bifore the puple patre and preye,
 And wrie me in my foxerie
 Under a cope of papelardie."
 Quod Love, "What devel is this that I heere?
 What wordis tellest thou me heere?"
 "What, sir?" "Falsnesse, that apert is.
6800 Thanne dredist thou not God?" "No, certis;
 For selde in gret thing shal he spede
 In this world, that God wole drede.
 For folk that hem to vertu yiven,
 And truly on her owne lyven,
 And hem in goodnesse ay contene,
 On hem is lytel thrift sene.
 Such folk drinken gret mysese;
 That lyf may me never plese.
 But se what gold han usurers,
6810 And silver eke in garners,
 Taylagiers, and these monyours,
 Bailifs, bedels, provost, countours;
 These lyven wel nygh by ravyne.
 The smale puple hem mote enclyne,
 And they as wolves wole hem eten.
 Upon the pore folk they geten
 Full moche of that they spende or kepe.
 Nis non of hem that he nyl strepe
 And wrien hemsilf wel atte fulle;
6820 Withoute scaldyng they hem pulle.
 The stronge the feble overgoth.
 But I, that were my symple cloth,
 Robbe bothe robbed and robbours
 And gile giled and gilours.
 By my treget I gadre and threste
 The gret tresour into my cheste,
 That lyth with me so faste bounde.
 Myn highe paleys do I founde,
 And my delites I fulfille
6830 With wyn at feestes at my wille,
 And tables full of entremees.
 I wole no lyf but ese and pees,
 And wynne gold to spende also.
 For whanne the grete bagge is go,
 It cometh right with my japes.
 Make I not wel tumble myn apes?
 To wynnen is alwey myn entente;
 My purchace is bettir than my rente.
 For though I shulde beten be,
6840 Overal I entremete me.
 Without me may no wight dure;
 I walke soules for to cure.
 Of al the world cure have I;
 In brede and lengthe boldely
 I wole bothe preche and eke counceilen.
 With hondis wille I not traveilen,
 For of the Pope I have the bulle --
 I ne holde not my wittes dulle.
 I wole not stynten, in my lyve,
6850 These emperoures for to shryve,
 Or kyngis, dukis, lordis grete;
 But pore folk al quyte I lete.
 I love no such shryvyng, parde,
 But it for other cause be.
 I rekke not of pore men --
 Her astat is not worth an hen.
 Where fyndest thou a swynker of labour
 Have me unto his confessour?
 But emperesses and duchesses,
6860 Thise queenes, and eke countesses,
 Thise abbessis, and eke bygyns,
 These grete ladyes palasyns,
 These joly knyghtis and baillyves,
 Thise nonnes, and thise burgeis wyves,
 That riche ben and eke plesyng,
 And thise maidens welfaryng,
 Wherso they clad or naked be,
 Uncounceiled goth ther noon fro me.
 And, for her soules savete,
6870 At lord and lady, and her meyne,
 I axe, whanne thei hem to me shryve,
 The proprete of al her lyve,
 And make hem trowe, bothe meest and leest,
 Hir paroch-prest nys but a beest
 Ayens me and my companye,
 That shrewis ben as gret as I;
 Fro whiche I wole not hide in hold
 No pryvete that me is told,
 That I by word or signe, ywis,
6880 [Ne] wole make hem knowe what it is,
 And they wolen also tellen me;
 They hele fro me no pryvyte.
 And for to make yow hem perceyven,
 That usen folk thus to disceyven,
 I wole you seyn, withouten drede,
 What men may in the gospel rede
 Of Seynt Mathew, the gospelere,
 That seith, as I shal you sey heere:
 "`Uppon the chaire of Moyses' --
6890 Thus is it glosed, douteles,
 That is the Olde Testament,
 For therby is the chaire ment --
 `Sitte Scribes and Pharisen;'
 That is to seyn, the cursid men
 Whiche that we ypocritis calle.
 `Doth that they preche, I rede you alle,
 But doth not as they don a del;
 That ben not wery to seye wel,
 But to do wel no will have they.
6900 And they wolde bynde on folk alwey,
 That ben to be begiled able,
 Burdons that ben importable;
 On folkes shuldris thinges they couchen,
 That they nyl with her fyngris touchen.'"
 "And why wole they not touche it?" "Why?
 For hem ne lyst not, sikirly;
 For sadde burdons that men taken
 Make folkes shuldris aken.
 And if they do ought that good be,
6910 That is for folk it shulde se.
 Her bordurs larger maken they,
 And make her hemmes wide alwey,
 And loven setes at the table,
 The firste and most honourable;
 And for to han the first chaieris
 In synagogis, to hem full deere is.
 And willen that folk hem loute and grete,
 Whanne that they passen thurgh the strete,
 And wolen be cleped `maister' also.
6920 But they ne shulde not willen so;
 The gospel is ther-ageyns, I gesse,
 That shewith wel her wikkidnesse.
 "Another custome use we:
 Of hem that wole ayens us be,
 We hate hem deedly everichon,
 And we wole werrey hem, as oon.
 Hym that oon hatith, hate we alle,
 And congecte hou to don hym falle.
 And if we seen hym wynne honour,
6930 Richesse, or preis, thurgh his valour,
 Provende, rent, or dignyte,
 Ful fast, iwys, compassen we
 Bi what ladder he is clomben so;
 And for to maken hym doun to go,
 With traisoun we wole hym defame,
 And don hym leese his goode name.
 Thus from his ladder we hym take,
 And thus his freendis foes we make;
 But word ne wite shal he noon,
6940 Till alle his freendis ben his foon.
 For if we dide it openly,
 We myght have blame redily;
 For hadde he wist of oure malice,
 He hadde hym kept, but he were nyce.
 "Another is this, that if so falle
 That ther be oon amonge us alle
 That doth a good turn, out of drede,
 We seyn it is oure alder deede.
 Ye, sikerly, though he it feyned,
6950 Or that hym list, or that hym deyned
 A man thurgh hym avaunced be;
 Therof all parseners be we,
 And tellen folk, whereso we go,
 That man thurgh us is sprongen so.
 And for to have of men preysyng,
 We purchace, thurgh oure flateryng,
 Of riche men of gret pouste
 Lettres to witnesse oure bounte,
 So that man weneth, that may us see,
6960 That alle vertu in us be.
 And alwey pore we us feyne;
 But how so that we begge or pleyne,
 We ben the folk, without lesyng,
 That all thing have without havyng.
 Thus be we dred of the puple, iwis.
 And gladly my purpos is this:
 I dele with no wight, but he
 Have gold and tresour gret plente.
 Her acqueyntaunce wel love I;
6970 This is moche my desir, shortly.
 I entremete me of brokages,
 I make pees and mariages,
 I am gladly executour,
 And many tymes procuratour;
 I am somtyme messager,
 That fallith not to my myster;
 And many tymes I make enquestes --
 For me that office not honest is.
 To dele with other mennes thing,
6980 That is to me a gret lykyng.
 And if that ye have ought to do
 In place that I repeire to,
 I shal it speden, thurgh my witt,
 As soone as ye have told me it.
 So that ye serve me to pay,
 My servyse shal be youre alway.
 But whoso wole chastise me,
 Anoon my love lost hath he;
 For I love no man, in no gise,
6990 That wole me repreve or chastise.
 But I wolde al folk undirtake,
 And of no wight no teching take;
 For I, that other folk chastie,
 Wole not be taught fro my folie.
 "I love noon hermitage more.
 All desertes and holtes hore,
 And grete wodes everichon,
 I lete hem to the Baptist John.
 I queth hym quyt and hym relesse
7000 Of Egipt all the wildirnesse.
 To fer were alle my mansiounes
 Fro citees and goode tounes.
 My paleis and myn hous make I
 There men may renne ynne openly,
 And sey that I the world forsake,
 But al amydde I bilde and make
 My hous, and swimme and pley therynne,
 Bet than a fish doth with his fynne.
 "Of Antecristes men am I,
7010 Of whiche that Crist seith openly,
 They have abit of hoolynesse,
 And lyven in such wikkednesse.
 Outward, lambren semen we,
 Fulle of goodnesse and of pitee,
 And inward we, withouten fable,
 Ben gredy wolves ravysable.
 We enviroune bothe lond and se;
 With all the world werreyen we;
 We wole ordeyne of alle thing,
7020 Of folkis good, and her lyvyng.
 "If ther be castel or citee,
 Wherynne that ony bouger be,
 Although that they of Milayn were
 (For therof ben they blamed there);
 Or if a wight out of mesure
 Wolde lene his gold, and take usure,
 For that he is so coveitous;
 Or if he be to leccherous,
 Or theef [or] haunte symonye,
7030 Or provost full of trecherie,
 Or prelat lyvyng jolily,
 Or prest that halt his quene hym by,
 Or olde horis hostilers,
 Or other bawdes or bordillers,
 Or elles blamed of ony vice
 Of which men shulden don justice:
 Bi all the seyntes that me pray,
 But they defende them with lamprey,
 With luce, with elys, with samons,
7040 With tendre gees and with capons,
 With tartes, or with cheses fat,
 With deynte flawnes brode and flat,
 With caleweis, or with pullaylle,
 With conynges, or with fyn vitaille,
 That we, undir our clothes wide,
 Maken thourgh oure golet glide;
 Or but he wole do come in haste
 Roo-venysoun, bake in paste;
 Whether so that he loure or groyne,
7050 He shal have of a corde a loigne,
 With whiche men shal hym bynde and lede,
 To brenne hym for his synful deede,
 That men shull here hym crie and rore
 A myle-wey aboute, and more;
 Or ellis he shal in prisoun dye,
 But if he wole oure frendship bye,
 Or smerten that that he hath do,
 More than his gilt amounteth to.
 But, and he couth. thurgh his sleight,
7060 Do maken up a tour of height,
 Nought rought I whethir of ston, or tree,
 Or erthe, or turves though it be,
 Though it were of no vounde ston,
 Wrought with squyre and scantilon,
 So that the tour were stuffed well
 With alle richesse temporell,
 And thanne that he wolde updresse
 Engyns, bothe more and lesse,
 To cast at us by every side,
7070 To bere his goode name wide,
 Such sleghtes [as] I shal yow nevene,
 Barelles of wyn, by sixe or sevene,
 Or gold in sakkis gret plente,
 He shulde soone delyvered be.
 And if [he have] noon sich pitaunces,
 Late hym study in equipolences,
 And late lyes and fallaces,
 If that he wolde deserve oure graces;
 Or we shal bere hym such witnesse
7080 Of synne and of his wrecchidnesse,
 And don his loos so wide renne,
 That al quyk we shulden hym brenne;
 Or ellis yeve hym such penaunce,
 That is wel wors than the pitaunce.
 "For thou shalt never, for nothing,
 Kon knowen aright by her clothing
 The traitours fulle of trecherie,
 But thou her werkis can aspie.
 And ne hadde the goode kepyng be
7090 Whilom of the universite,
 That kepith the key of Cristendom,
 Suche ben the stynkyng prophetis;
 Nys non of hem that good prophete is,
 For they thurgh wikked entencioun,
 The yeer of the Incarnacioun,
 A thousand and two hundred yeer,
 Fyve and fifty, ferther ne neer,
 Broughten a book, with sory grace,
7100 To yeven ensample in comune place,
 That seide thus, though it were fable:
 `This is the gospel perdurable,
 That fro the Holy Goost is sent.'
 Wel were it worth to ben brent!
 Entitled was in such manere
 This book, of which I telle heere.
 Ther nas no wight in all Parys,
 Biforne Oure Lady, at parvys,
7110 To copy if hym talent tok.
 There myght he se, by gret tresoun,
 Full many fals comparisoun:
 `As moche as, thurgh his grete myght,
 Be it of hete or of lyght,
 The sonne sourmounteth the mone,
 That troublere is, and chaungith soone,
 And the note-kernell the shelle
 (I scorne not that I yow telle),
 Right so, withouten ony gile,
7120 Sourmounteth this noble evangile
 The word of ony evangelist.'
 And to her title they token Crist.
 And many a such comparisoun,
 Of which I make no mencioun,
 Mighte men in that book fynde,
 Whoso coude of hem have mynde.
 "The universite, that tho was aslep,
 Gan for to braide and taken kep;
 And at the noys the heed upcaste,
7130 Ne never sithen slept it faste,
 But up it stert, and armes tok
 Ayens this fals horrible bok,
 Al redy bateil [for] to make,
 And to the juge the book to take.
 But they that broughten the bok there
 Hent it anoon awey, for fere.
 They nolde shewe more a del,
 But thenne it kept, and kepen will,
 Til such a tyme that they may see
7140 That they so stronge woxen be
 That no wyght may hem wel withstonde,
 For by that book [they] durst not stonde.
 Awey they gonne it for to bere,
 For they ne durst not answere
 By exposicioun ne glose
 To that that clerkis wole appose
 Ayens the cursednesse, iwys,
 That in that book writen is.
 Now wot I not, ne I can not see
7150 What maner eende that there shal be
 Of al this [bok] that they hyde;
 But yit algate they shal abide
 Til that they may it bet defende.
 This, trowe I best, wol be her ende.
 "Thus, Antecrist abiden we,
 For we ben alle of his meyne;
 And what man that wole not be so,
 Right soone he shal his lyf forgo.
 We wole a puple upon hym areyse,
7160 And thurgh oure gile don hym seise,
 And hym on sharpe speris ryve,
 Or other weyes brynge hym fro lyve,
 But if that he wole folowe, iwis,
 That in oure book writen is.
 "Thus mych wole oure book signifie,
 That while Petre hath maistrie,
 May never John shewe well his myght.
 Now have I you declared right
 The menyng of the bark and rynde,
7170 That makith the entenciouns blynde;
 But now at erst I wole bigynne
 To expowne you the pith withynne:
 And the seculers comprehende,
 That Cristes lawe wole defende,
 And shulde it kepen and mayntenen
 Ayenes hem that all sustenen,
 And falsly to the puple techen.
 And John bitokeneth hem that prechen
 That ther nys lawe covenable
7180 But thilke gospel perdurable,
 That fro the Holy Gost was sent
 To turne folk that ben myswent.
 "The strengthe of John they undirstonde
 The grace, in which they seie they stonde,
 That doth the synfull folk converte,
 And hem to Jesus Crist reverte.
 Full many another orribilite
 May men in that book se,
 That ben comaunded, douteles,
7190 Ayens the lawe of Rome expres;
 And all with Antecrist they holden,
 As men may in the book biholden.
 And thanne comaunden they to sleen
 Alle tho that with Petre been;
 But they shal nevere have that myght,
 And, God toforn, for strif to fight,
 That they ne shal ynowe fynde
 That Petres lawe shal have in mynde,
 And evere holde, and so mayntene,
7200 That at the last it shal be sene
 That they shal alle come therto,
 For ought that they can speke or do.
 And thilke lawe shal not stonde,
 That they by John have undirstonde,
 But, maugre hem, it shal adown,
 And ben brought to confusioun.
 But I wole stynt of this matere,
 For it is wonder longe to here.
 But hadde that ilke book endured,
7210 Of better estat I were ensured,
 And freendis have I yit, pardee,
 That han me sett in gret degre.
 "Of all this world is emperour
 Gyle my fadir, the trechour,
 And emperisse my moder is,
 Maugre the Holy Gost, iwis.
 Oure myghty lynage and oure rowte
 Regneth in every regne aboute;
 And well is worthy we maistres be,
7220 For all this world governe we,
 And can the folk so wel disceyve
 That noon oure gile can perceyve.
 And though they don, they dar not seye;
 The sothe dar no wight bywreye.
 But he in Cristis wrath hym ledith,
 That more than Crist my britheren dredith.
 He nys no full good champioun,
 That dredith such simulacioun,
 Nor that for peyne wole refusen
7230 Us to correcte and accusen.
 He wole not entremete by right,
 Ne have God in his eye-sight,
 And therfore God shal hym punyshe.
 But me ne rekketh of no vice,
 Sithen men us loven comunably,
 And holden us for so worthy
 That we may folk repreve echoon,
 And we nyl have repref of noon.
 Whom shulden folk worshipen so
7240 But us, that stynten never mo
 To patren while that folk may us see,
 Though it not so bihynde be?
 "And where is more wod folye
 Than to enhaunce chyvalrie,
 And love noble men and gay,
 That joly clothis weren alway?
 If they be sich folk as they semen,
 So clene, as men her clothis demen,
 And that her wordis folowe her dede,
7250 It is gret pite, out of drede,
 For they wole be noon ypocritis!
 Of hem, me thynketh, gret spite is.
 I can not love hem on no side.
 But beggers with these hodes wide,
 With sleighe and pale faces lene,
 And greye clothis not full clene,
 But fretted full of tatarwagges,
 And highe shoos, knopped with dagges,
 That frouncen lyke a quaile pipe,
7260 Or botis rivelyng as a gype;
 To such folk as I you dyvyse
 Shulde princes, and these lordis wise,
 Take all her londis and her thingis,
 Bothe werre and pees, in governyngis;
 To such folk shulde a prince hym yive,
 That wolde his lyf in honour lyve.
 "And if they be not as they seme,
 That serven thus the world to queme,
 There wolde I dwelle, to disceyve
7270 The folk, for they shal not perceyve.
 But I ne speke in no such wise,
 That men shulde humble abit dispise,
 So that no pride ther-undir be.
 No man shulde hate, as thynkith me,
 The pore man in sich clothyng.
 But God ne preisith hym nothing,
 That seith he hath the world forsake,
 And hath to worldly glorie hym take,
 And wole of siche delices use.
7280 Who may that begger wel excuse,
 That papelard, that hym yeldith so,
 And wole to worldly ese go,
 And seith that he the world hath left,
 And gredily it grypeth eft?
 He is the hound, shame is to seyn,
 That to his castyng goth ageyn.
 "But unto you dar I not lye.
 But myght I felen or aspie
 That ye perceyved it no thyng,
7290 Ye shulde have a stark lesyng
 Right in youre honde thus, to bigynne;
 I nolde it lette for no synne."
 The god lough at the wondir tho,
 And every wight gan laugh also,
 And seide, "Lo, heere a man aright
 For to be trusty to every wight!"
 "Fals-Semblant," quod Love, "sey to me,
 Sith I thus have avaunced thee,
 That in my court is thi dwellyng,
7300 And of ribawdis shalt be my kyng,
 Wolt thou wel holden my forwardis?"
 "Ye, sir, from hennes forwardis;
 Hadde never youre fadir heere-biforn
 Servaunt so trewe, sith he was born."
 "That is ayenes all nature."
 "Sir, putte you in that aventure.
 For though ye borowes take of me,
 The sikerer shal ye never be
 For ostages, ne sikirnesse,
7310 Or chartres, for to bere witnesse.
 I take youresilf to recorde heere,
 That men ne may in no manere
 Teren the wolf out of his hide,
 Til he be flayn, bak and side,
 Though men hym bete and al defile.
 What! Wene ye that I nil bigile
 For I am clothed mekely?
 Ther-undir is all my trechery;
 Myn herte chaungith never the mo
7320 For noon abit in which I go.
 Though I have chere of symplenesse,
 I am not wery of shrewidnesse.
 My lemman, Streyned-Abstinaunce,
 Hath myster of my purveaunce;
 She hadde ful longe ago be deed,
 Nere my councel and my red.
 Lete hir allone, and you and me."
 And Love answerde, "I truste thee
 Withoute borowe, for I wole noon."
7330 And Fals-Semblant, the theef, anoon,
 Ryght in that ilke same place,
 That hadde of tresoun al his face
 Ryght blak withynne and whit withoute,
 Thankyth hym, gan on his knees loute.
 Thanne was ther nought but, "Every man
 Now to assaut, that sailen can,"
 Quod Love, "and that full hardyly!"
 Thanne armed they hem communly
 Of sich armour as to hem fel.
7340 Whanne they were armed, fers and fel,
 They wente hem forth, alle in a route,
 And set the castel al aboute.
 They will nought away, for no drede,
 Till it so be that they ben dede,
 Or til they have the castel take.
 And foure batels they gan make,
 And parted hem in foure anoon,
 And toke her way, and forth they gon,
 The foure gates for to assaile,
7350 Of whiche the kepers wole not faile;
 For they ben neithir sike ne dede,
 But hardy folk, and stronge in dede.
 Now wole I seyn the countynaunce
 Of Fals-Semblant and Abstynaunce,
 That ben to Wikkid-Tonge went.
 But first they heelde her parlement,
 Whether it to done were
 To maken hem be knowen there,
 Or elles walken forth disgised.
7360 But at the laste they devysed
 That they wolde gon in tapinage,
 As it were in a pilgrimage,
 Lyke good and hooly folk unfeyned.
 And Dame Abstinence-Streyned
 Tok on a robe of kamelyne,
 And gan hir graithe as a Bygyne.
 A large coverechief of thred
 She wrapped all aboute hir heed,
 But she forgat not hir sawter;
7370 A peire of bedis eke she ber
 Upon a las, all of whit thred,
 On which that she hir bedes bed.
 But she ne bought hem never a del,
 For they were geven her, I wot wel,
 God wot, of a full hooly frere,
 That seide he was hir fadir dere,
 To whom she hadde ofter went
 Than ony frere of his covent.
 And he visited hir also,
7380 And many a sermoun seide hir to;
 He nolde lette, for man on lyve,
 That he ne wolde hir ofte shryve.
 And with so great devocion
 They made her confession,
 That they had ofte, for the nones,
 Two heedes in oon hood at ones.
 Of fayre shap I devyse her the,
 But pale of face somtyme was she;
 That false traytouresse untrewe
7390 Was lyk that salowe hors of hewe,
 That in the Apocalips is shewed,
 That signifyeth tho folk beshrewed
 That ben al ful of trecherye,
 And pale through hypocrisye;
 For on that hors no colour is,
 But only deed and pale, ywis.
 Of such a colour enlangoured
 Was Abstynence, iwys, coloured;
 Of her estat she her repented,
7400 As her visage represented.
 She had a burdown al of Thefte,
 That Gyle had yeve her of his yefte;
 And a skryppe of Faynt Distresse,
 That ful was of elengenesse;
 And forth she walked sobrely.
 And Fals-Semblant saynt, je vous die,
 Had, as it were for such mister,
 Don on the cope of a frer,
 With chere symple and ful pytous.
7410 Hys lokyng was not disdeynous,
 Ne proud, but meke and ful pesyble.
 About his necke he bar a byble,
 And squierly forth gan he gon,
 And, for to rest his lymmes upon,
 He had of Treason a potente;
 As he were feble, his way he wente.
 But in his sleve he gan to thringe
 A rasour sharp and wel bytynge,
 That was forged in a forge,
7420 Which that men clepen Coupe-Gorge.
 So longe forth her way they nomen,
 Tyl they to Wicked-Tonge comen,
 That at his gate was syttyng,
 And saw folk in the way passyng.
 The pilgrymes saw he faste by,
 That beren hem ful mekely,
 And humbly they with him mette.
 Dame Abstynence first him grette,
 And sythe him Fals-Semblant salued,
7430 And he hem; but he not remued,
 For he ne dredde hem not a del.
 For whan he saw her faces wel,
 Alway in herte him thoughte so,
 He shulde knowe hem bothe two,
 For wel he knew Dame Abstynaunce,
 But he ne knew not Constreynaunce.
 He knew nat that she was constrayned,
 Ne of her theves lyve fayned,
 But wende she com of wyl al free,
7440 But she com in another degree,
 And if of good wyl she began,
 That wyl was fayled her than.
 And Fals-Semblant had he sayn als,
 But he knew nat that he was fals.
 Yet fals was he, but his falsnesse
 Ne coude he nat espye nor gesse;
 For Semblant was so slye wrought,
 That Falsnesse he ne espyed nought.
 But haddest thou knowen hym beforn,
7450 Thou woldest on a bok have sworn,
 Whan thou him saugh in thylke aray,
 That he, that whilom was so gay,
 And of the daunce joly Robyn,
 Was tho become a Jacobyn.
 But sothly, what so men hym calle,
 Freres Preachours ben good men alle;
 Her order wickedly they beren,
 Suche mynstrelles if they weren.
 So ben Augustyns and Cordyleres,
7460 And Carmes, and eke Sacked Freeres,
 And alle freres, shodde and bare
 (Though some of hem ben great and square),
 Ful hooly men, as I hem deme;
 Everych of hem wolde good man seme.
 But shalt thou never of apparence
 Sen conclude good consequence
 In non argument, ywis,
 If existens al fayled is.
 For men may fynde alway sophyme
7470 The consequence to envenyme,
 Whoso that hath the subtelte
 The double sentence for to se.
 Whan the pylgrymes commen were
 To Wicked-Tonge, that dwelled there,
 Her harneys nygh hem was algate;
 By Wicked-Tonge adown they sate,
 That bad hem ner him for to come,
 And of tidynges telle him some,
 And sayd hem, "What cas maketh you
7480 To come into this place now?"
 "Sir," sayde Strayned-Abstynaunce,
 "We, for to drye our penaunce,
 With hertes pytous and devoute
 Are commen, as pylgrimes gon aboute.
 Wel nygh on fote alwey we go;
 Ful dusty ben our heeles two;
 And thus bothe we ben sent
 Throughout this world, that is miswent,
 To yeve ensample, and preche also.
7490 To fysshen synful men we go,
 For other fysshynge ne fysshe we.
 And, sir, for that charyte,
 As we be wonte, herborowe we crave,
 Your lyf to amende, Christ it save!
 And, so it shulde you nat displese,
 We wolden, if it were youre ese,
 A short sermon unto you sayn."
 And Wicked-Tonge answered agayn:
 "The hous," quod he, "such as ye see,
7500 Shal nat be warned you for me.
 Say what you lyst, and I wol here."
 "Graunt mercy, swete sire dere!"
 Quod alderfirst Dame Abstynence,
 And thus began she her sentence:
 "Sir, the firste vertu, certayn,
 The greatest and moste soverayn
 That may be founde in any man,
 For havynge, or for wyt he can,
 That is his tonge to refrayne;
7510 Therto ought every wight him payne.
 For it is better stylle be
 Than for to speken harm, parde!
 And he that herkeneth it gladly,
 He is no good man, sykerly.
 "And, sir, aboven al other synne,
 In that art thou most gylty inne.
 Thou spake a jape not longe ago,
 (And, sir, that was ryght yvel do)
 Of a young man that here repayred,
7520 And never yet this place apayred.
 Thou saydest he awayted nothyng
 But to disceyve Fayr-Welcomyng;
 Ye sayde nothyng soth of that.
 But, sir, ye lye, I tel you plat.
 He ne cometh no more, ne goth, parde!
 I trowe ye shal him never se.
 Fayr-Welcomyng in prison is,
 That ofte hath played with you, er this,
 The fayrest games that he coude,
7530 Withoute fylthe, stylle or loude.
 Now dar he nat himself solace.
 Ye han also the man do chace,
 That he dar neyther come ne go.
 What meveth you to hate him so,
 But properly your wicked thought,
 That many a fals leasyng hath thought
 That meveth your foole eloquence,
 That jangleth ever in audyence,
 And on the folk areyseth blame,
7540 And doth hem dishonour and shame,
 For thyng that may have no prevyng,
 But lyklynesse, and contryvyng?
 "For I dar sayn that Reson demeth
 It is nat al soth thyng that semeth,
 And it is synne to controve
 Thyng that is to reprove.
 This wote ye wel, and sir, therfore
 Ye arn to blame the more.
 And nathelesse, he recketh lyte;
7550 He yeveth nat now therof a myte.
 For if he thoughte harm, parfay,
 He wolde come and gon al day;
 He coude himselve nat abstene.
 Now cometh he nat, and that is sene,
 For he ne taketh of it no cure,
 But if it be through aventure,
 And lasse than other folk, algate.
 And thou her watchest at the gate,
 With spere in thyn arest alway;
7560 There muse, musard, al the day.
 Thou wakest night and day for thought;
 Iwis, thy traveyle is for nought;
 And Jelousye, withouten fayle,
 Shal never quyte the thy traveyle.
 And skathe is that Fayr-Welcomyng,
 Withouten any trespassyng,
 Shal wrongfully in prison be,
 There wepeth and languyssheth he.
 And though thou never yet, ywis,
7570 Agyltest man no more but this,
 (Take nat a-gref) it were worthy
 To putte the out of this bayly,
 And afterward in prison lye,
 And fettre the tyl that thou dye;
 For thou shalt for this synne dwelle
 Right in the devels ers of helle,
 But if that thou repente thee."
 "Ma fay, thou liest falsly!" quod he.
 "What? Welcome with myschaunce now!
7580 Have I therfore herbered yow,
 To seye me shame, and eke reprove?
 With sory hap, to youre bihove,
 Am I to day youre herberger!
 Go herber yow elleswhere than heer,
 That han a lyer called me!
 Two tregetours art thou and he,
 That in myn hous do me this shame,
 And for my soth-sawe ye me blame.
 Is this the sermoun that ye make?
7590 To all the develles I me take,
 Or elles, God, thou me confounde,
 But, er men diden this castel founde,
 It passith not ten daies or twelve,
 But it was told right to myselve,
 And as they seide, right so tolde I,
 He kyst the Rose pryvyly!
 Thus seide I now, and have seid yore;
 I not wher he dide ony more.
 Why shulde men sey me such a thyng,
7600 If it hadde ben gabbyng?
 Ryght so seide I, and wol seye yit;
 I trowe, I lied not of it.
 And with my bemes I wole blowe
 To alle neighboris a-rowe,
 How he hath bothe comen and gon."
 Tho spak Fals-Semblant right anon:
 "All is not gospel, out of doute,
 That men seyn in the town aboute.
 Ley no deef ere to my spekyng;
7610 I swere yow, sir, it is gabbyng!
 I trowe ye wote wel, certeynly,
 That no man loveth hym tenderly
 That seith hym harm, if he wot it,
 All he be never so pore of wit.
 And soth is also, sikerly
 (This knowe ye, sir, as wel as I),
 That lovers gladly wole visiten
 The places there her loves habiten.
 This man yow loveth and eke honoureth.
7620 This man to serve you laboureth,
 And clepith you his freend so deere:
 And this man makith you good chere,
 And everywhere that [he] you meteth,
 He yow saloweth, and he you greteth.
 He preseth not so ofte that ye
 Ought of his come encombred be;
 Ther presen other folk on yow
 Full ofter than he doth now.
 And if his herte hym streyned so
7630 Unto the Rose for to go,
 Ye shulde hym sen so ofte nede,
 That ye shulde take hym with the dede.
 He cowde his comyng not forbere,
 Though me hym thrilled with a spere;
 It nere not thanne as it is now.
 But trusteth wel, I swere it yow,
 That it is clene out of his thought.
 Sir, certis, he ne thenkith it nought;
 No more ne doth Fair-Welcomyng,
7640 That sore abieth al this thing.
 And if they were of oon assent,
 Full soone were the Rose hent;
 The maugre youres wolde be.
 And sir, of o thing herkeneth me,
 Sith ye this man that loveth yow
 Han seid such harm and shame now,
 Witeth wel, if he gessed it,
 Ye may wel demen in youre wit
 He nolde nothyng love you so,
7650 Ne callen you his freend also,
 But nyght and day he wolde wake
 The castell to destroie and take,
 If it were soth as ye devise;
 Or som man in som maner wise
 Might it warne hym everydel,
 Or by hymsilf perceyven wel.
 For sith he myght not come and gon,
 As he was whilom wont to don,
 He myght it sone wite and see;
7660 But now all other wise doth he.
 Thanne have [ye], sir, al outerly,
 Deserved helle, and jolyly
 The deth of helle, douteles,
 That thrallen folk so gilteles."
 Fals-Semblant proveth so this thing
 That he can noon answeryng,
 And seth alwey such apparaunce
 That nygh he fel in repentaunce,
 And seide hym, "Sir, it may wel be.
7670 Semblant, a good man semen ye,
 And, Abstinence, full wise ye seme.
 Of o talent you bothe I deme.
 What counceil wole ye to me yiven?"
 "Ryght heere anoon thou shalt be shryven,
 And sey thy synne withoute more;
 Of this shalt thou repente sore.
 For I am prest and have pouste
 To shryve folk of most dignyte
 That ben, as wide as world may dure.
7680 Of all this world I have the cure,
 And that hadde never yit persoun,
 Ne vicarie of no maner toun.
 And, God wot, I have of thee
 A thousand tyme more pitee
 Than hath thi preest parochial,
 Though he thy freend be special.
 I have avauntage, in o wise,
 That youre prelatis ben not so wise
 Ne half so lettred as am I.
7690 I am licenced boldely
 To reden in divinite,
 And longe have red. . . .

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