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THE    COMPLETE    WORKS 


GEOFFREY    CHAUCER 


WITH   AN   INTRODUCTION 
BY 

THOMAS   R.    LOUNSBURY 

PROFESSOR   OF   ENGLISH    LITERATURE   IN   YALE  UNIVERSITY 


:^y 


VX  3^ 


%\ 


NEW   YORK 

THOMAS   Y.    CROWELL   &   CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1900, 
By  THOMAS  Y.   CROWELL  &  CO. 


CONTENTS. 


PACK 

The  RoMAi'NT  of  the  Rose:  — 

Fragment  A i 

Fragment  B 17 

Fragment  C 57 

The  Minor  Poems: — 

I.  An  A.  B.  C 76 

II.  TheConipleynte  unto  Pite  78 

III.  The  Book  of  the  Duchesse  80 

IV.  The  Compleynt  of  Mars  .  93 
V.  The  Parlemcnt  of  Foules  98 

VI.  A  Compleint  to  his  Lady  108 
VII.  Anelida  and  Arcite       .     .110 
^^/ATII.  Chaucers     Wordes     unto 

Adam in; 

i/   IX.  The  Former  Age     .     .     .115 

y  X.  Fortune 116 

XI.  Merciles  Beaute       .     .     .118 
y^X-ll.  To        Rosemounde.        A 

.  Balade 1 1 8 

/  XIII.  Truth 119 

^/OCIV.  Gentilesse 119 

•   XV.  I.ak  of  Stedfastnesse    .     .120 
XVI.  Lenvoy     de     Chaucer     a 

Seogan 1 20 

»/XVTI.  Lenvoy  de  Chaucer  a 

Bukton 121 

XVIII.  The  Compleynt  of  Venus  122 
yXIX.  The  Compleint  of  Chaucer 
V  to  his  Fmjjty  Purse  .     .123 

XX.   Proverljs 123 

XXI.  Against   Women    Uncon- 

stant 124 


PAGE 

XXII.  An    Amorous    Compleint 

(Compleint  Damours)  .    124 

XXIII.  A  Balade  of  Comjileynt    .   126 

XXIV.  Womanly  Noblesse       .      .126 
XXV.  Complaint   to  my   Mortal 

Foe 127 

XXVI.  Complaint    to   my  Lode- 

Sterre 127 

BOETHIUS    DE    CONSOLATIONE    PlII- 

LOSOI'HIE 129 

TkOILUS   and   CrISEYDE       .      .      .      .211 

The  IIous  of  Fame 369 


The  Legend  ok  Good  Women 


391 


A  Treatise  on  the  Astrolatie    .  439 


The  Canterbury  Tales: 

— 

Group  A.  The  Prologue 

•     •  465 

The  Knightes  Tale  . 

476 

The  Miller's  Prologue 

505 

The  Milleres  Tale    . 

506 

The  Reeve's  Prologue 

5>S 

The  Reves  Tale  .     . 

.S16 

The  Cook's  Prologue 

522 

The  Cokes  Tale  .     . 

,';23 

Group  P>.   Introduction  ti 

the 

Man 

of  Law's  Prologue 

524 

The  Prologe  of  the  Mannes 

Tak 

of  Lawe      ,     .     . 

525 

INTRODUCTION. 


established,  and  seems  to  have  been  established  early.  All  the  references  to  him  by 
his  contemporaries  and  immediate  successors  bear  witness  to  his  universally  recognized 
position  as  the  greatest  of  English  poets,  though  we  are  not  left  by  him  to  doubt  that 
he  had  even  then  met  detractors.  Still  the  general  feeling  of  the  men  of  his  time  is 
expressed  by  his  disciple  Occleve,  who  terms  him  — 

"  The  firsts  finder  i  of  our  fair  language." 

Yet  not  a  single  incident  of  his  life  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  men  who  admired 
his  personality,  who  enrolled  themselves  as  his  disciples,  and  who  celebrated  his 
praises.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  slight  references  to  himself  in  his  writings,  all 
the  knowledge  we  possess  of  the  events  of  his  career  is  due  to  the  mention  made  of 
him  in  official  documents  of  various  kinds  and  of  different  degrees  of  importance.  In 
these  it  is  taken  for  granted  that  whenever  Geoffrey  Chaucer  is  spoken  of,  it  is  the 
poet  who  is  meant,  and  not  another  person  of  the  same  name.  The  assumption 
almost  approaches  absolute  certainty;  it  does  not  quite  attain  to  it.  In  those  days  it 
is  clear  that  there  were  numerous  Chancers.  Still,  no  one  has  yet  risen  to  dispute  his 
being  the  very  person  spoken  of  in  these  official  papers.  From  these  documents  we 
discover  that  Chaucer,  besides  being  a  poet,  was  also  a  man  of  affairs.  He  was  a 
soldier,  a  negotiator,  a  diplomatist.  He  was  early  employed  in  the  personal  service 
of  the  king.  He  held  various  positions  in  the  civil  serv'ice.  It  was  a  consequence 
that  his  name  should  appear  frequently  in  the  records.  It  is  upon  them,  and  the 
references  to  him  in  documents  covering  transactions  in  which  he  bore  a  part,  that 
the  story  of  his  life,  so  far  as  it  exists  for  us  at  all,  has  been  mainly  built.  It  was  by 
them  also  that  the  series  of  fictitious  events,  which  for  so  long  a  time  did  duty  as  the 
biography  of  the  poet,  had  their  impossibility  as  well  as  their  absurdity  exposed. 

The  exact  date  of  Chaucer's  birth  we  do  not  know.  The  most  that  can  be  said  is 
that  it  must  have  been  somewhere  in  the  early  years  of  the  reign  of  Edward  III. 
(1327-77).  The  place  of  his  birth  was  in  all  probability  London.  His  father,  John 
Chaucer,  was  a  vintner  of  that  city,  and  there  is  evidence  to  indicate  that  he  was  to 
some  extent  connected  with  the  court.  In  a  deed  dated  June  19,  13S0,  the  poet 
released  his  right  to  his  father's  former  house,  which  is  described  as  being  in  Thames 
Street.  The  spot,  however  unsuitable  for  a  dwelling-place  now,  was  then  in  the  very 
heart  of  urban  life,  and  in  that  very  neighborhood  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
Chaucer's  earliest  years  were  spent. 

The  first  positive  information  we  have,  however,  about  the  poet  himself,  belongs  to 
1356.  In  that  year  we  find  him  attached  to  the  household  of  Lionel,  Duke  of 
Clarence,  the  third  son  of  Edward  IH.  He  is  there  in  the  service  of  the  wife  of  that 
prince,  but  in  what  position  we  do  not  know.  It  may  have  been  that  of  a  page.  He 
naturally  was  in  attendance  upon  his  mistress  during  her  various  journeyings  ;  but 
most  of  her  time  was  passed  at  her  residence  in  Hatfield,  Yorkshire.  Chaucer  next 
appears  as  having  joined  the  army  of  Edward  HI.  in  his  last  invasion  of  France. 
This  expedition  was  undertaken  in  the  autumn  of  1359,  and  continued  until  the  peace 
of  Bretigny,  concluded  in  May,  1360.  During  this  campaign  he  was  captured  some- 
where and  somehow  —  we  have  no  knowledge  beyond  the  bare  fact.     It  took  place, 

iPoct 


( 


INTRODUCTION. 


however,  before  the  1st  of  March,  1360  ;   for  on  that  date  the  records  show  that  the 
King  personally  contributed  sixteen  pounds  toward  his  ransom. 

P'rom  the  last-mentioned  date  Chaucer  drops  entirely  out  of  our  knowledge  till 
June,  1367,  when  he  is  mentioned  as  one  of  the  valets  of  the  King's  chamber.  In  the 
document  stating  this  fact  he  is  granted  a  pension  —  the  first  of  several  he  received  — 
for  services  already  rendered  or  to  be  rendered.  It  is  a  natural  inference  from  the 
language  employed,  that  during  these  years  of  which  no  record  exists  he  was  in  some 
situation  about  the  person  of  Edward  III.  After  this  time  his  name  occurs  with  con- 
siderable frequency  in  the  rolls,  often  connected  with  duties  to  which  he  was  assigned. 
His  services  were  varied  ;  in  some  instances  certainly  they  were  of  importance.  P'rom 
1370  to  1380  he  was  sent  several  times  abroad  to  jhare  in  the  conduct  of  negotiations. 
These  missions  led  him  to  Planders,  to  France,  and  to  Italy.  The  subjects  were 
diverse.  One  of  the  negotiations  in  which  he  was  concerned  was  in  reference  to  the 
selection  of  an  English  port  for  a  Genoese  commercial  establishment  ;  another  was 
concerning  the  marriage  of  the  young  monarch  of  England  with  the  daughter  of  the 
King  of  France.  It  is  on  his  first  journey  to  Italy  of  which  we  have  any  record  —  the 
mission  of  1372-73  to  Genoa  and  Florence  —  that  everybody  hopes  and  some  succeed 
in  having  an  undoubting  belief  that  Chaucer  visited  Petrarch  at  Padua,  and  there 
heard  from  him  the  story  of  Griselda,  which  the  Clerk  of  Oxford  in  "The  Canterbury 
Tales"  states  that  he  learned  from  the  Italian  poet.  Faith  in  this  meeting  has  been 
rendered  more  difficult  to  accept,  however,  by  the  recently  discovered  fact  that  /  / 
Chaucer  was  absent  on  this  mission  less  than  six  months,  instead  of  the  eleven  months  '  ' 
with  which  he  previously  had  been  credited. 

But  Chaucer's  activity  was  not  confined  to  foreign  missions  or  to  diplomacy  ;   he 
was  as  constantly  employed  in  the  civil  service.     In  1374  he  was  made  controller  of 
the  great  customs  —  that  is,  of  wool,  skins,  and  leather  —  of  the  port  of  London.    In 
1382  he  received  also  the  post  at  the  same  port  of  controller  of  the  petty  customs, 
that  is,  of  wines,  candles,  and  other  articles.     The  regulations  of  this  office  required 
him  to  write  the  records  with  his  own  hand  ;   and  it  is  this  to  which  Chaucer  is  sup-^       _L 
posed  to  refer  in  the  statement  he  makes  about  his  official  duties  in  "The  IIous  of^^'v  1 
Fame."     In  this  poem  the  messenger  of  Jupiter  tells  him  that  though  he  has  done  so        /         / 
much  in  the  service  of  the  God  of  Love,  yet  he  has  never  received  for  it  any  com-       (^  [     L 
pensation.     He  then  goes  onto  add  the  following  lines,  which  give  a  graphic  picture 
of  the  poet  and  of  his  studious  life  :  — 

"  '  Wherfor,  as  I  seyde,  y-wis, 
Jupiter  considereth  this, 
And  also,  beau  sir,  other  thinges ; 
That  is,  that  thou  hast  no  tydinges 
Of  Loves  folk,  if  they  be  glade, 
Ne  of  noght  elles  that  god  made ; 
And  noght  only  fro  fer  contree 
That  ther  no  tyding  comth  to  thee, 
But  of  thy  verray  neyghebores. 
That  dwellen  almost  at  thy  dores, 
Thou  herest  neither  that  ne  this; 
For  whan  thy  labour  doon  al  is, 


4>r 


/ 


INTRODUCnON. 


And  hast  y-maad  thy  rekeninges, 
In  stede  of  reste  and  newe  thinges, 
Thou  gost  hoom  to  thy  hous  anoon ; 
And,  also  domb  as  any  stoon, 
Thou  sittest  at  another  boke, 
Til  fully  daswed  is  thy  loke, 
And  livest  thus  as  an  hermyte, 
Although  thyn  abstinence  is  lyte.'  " 

The  Hous  of  Fame,  11.  641-660. 

In  1386  Chaucer  was  elected  to  Parliament  as  knight  of  the  shire  for  the  county  of 
Kent.  In  that  same  year  he  lost  or  gave  up  both  his  positions  in  the  customs.  The 
cause  we  do  not  know.  It  may  have  been  due  to  mismanagement  on  his  own  part;  it  is 
far  more  Hkely  that  he  fell  a  victim  to  one  of  the  fierce  factional  disputes  that  were  going 
on  during  the  minority  of  Richard  II.  At  any  rate,  from  this  time,  he  disappears  for 
two  years  from  our  knowledge.  But  in  1389  he  is  mentioned  as  having  been  appointed 
clerk  of  the  King's  works  at  Westminster  and  various  other  places  ;  in  1390  clerk  of 
the  works  for  St.  George's  chapel  at  Windsor.  Both  of  these  positions  he  held  until 
the  middle  of  1391.  In  this  last  year  he  was  made  one  of  the  commissioners  to 
repair  the  roadway  along  the  Thames,  and  at  about  the  same  time  was  appointed  for- 
ester of  North  Petherton  Park  in  Somerset,  a  post  which  he  held  till  his  death.  After 
1386  he  seems  at  times  to  have  been  in  pecuniary  difficulties.  To  what  cause  they 
were  owing,  or  how  severe  they  were,  it  is  the  emptiest  of  speculations  to  form  any 
..onjectures  in  the  obscurity  that  envelops  this  portion  of  his  life.  Whatever  may  have 
been  his  situation,  on  the  accession  of  Henry  IV.  in  September,  1399,  his  fortunes 
revived.  The  father  of  that  monarch  was  John  of  Gaunt,  the  fourth  son  of  Edward 
III.  That  nobleman  had  pretty  certainly  been  from  the  outset  the  patron  of  Chaucer; 
it  is  possible  —  as  the  evidence  fails  on  one  side,  it  cannot  be  regarded  as  proved  — 
that  by  his  marriage  with  Katharine  Swynford  he  became  the  poet's  brother-in-law. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  relationship,  if  any  at  all,  it  is  a.fact  that  one  of  the  very 
hrst  things  the  new  king  did  was  to  confer  upon  Chaucer  an  additional  pension.  But 
the  poet  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy  the  favor  of  the  monarch.  On  the  24th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1399,  he  leased  for  fifty-three  years,  or  during  the  term  of  his  life,  a  tenement  in 
the  garden  of  St.  Mary's  Chapel,  Westminster.  But  after  the  5th  of  June,  1400,  his 
name  appears  no  longer  on  any  rolls.  There  is  accordingly  no  reason  to  question  the 
accuracy  of  the  inscription  on  his  tombstone  which  represents  him  as  having  died 
October  25,  1400.  He  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey.  He  was  the  first,  and  still 
remains  perhaps  the  greatest,  of  the  English  poets  whose  bones  have  there  found  their 
last  resting-place. 

This  comprises  all  the  facts  of  importance  we  know  of  Chaucer's  life.  Before  leav- 
ing this  branch  of  the  subject,  however,  it  may  be  well  to  say  that  many  fuller  details 
about  his  career  can  be  found  in  all  older  accounts  of  the  poet,  and  in  spite  of  the 
repeated  exposure  of  their  falsity  still  crop  up  occasionally  in  modern  books  of  refer- 
ence. Some  are  objectionable  only  upon  the  ground  of  being  untrue.  Of  these  are 
such  statements  as  that  he  was  born  in  1328  ;  that  he  was  a  student  of  Oxford,  to 
which  Cambridge  is  sometimes  added  ;  that  he  was  created  poet-laureate  ;  and  that 
he  was  knighted.    But  others  are  objectionable  not  only  on  the  ground  of  being  false, 


INTRODUCTION. 


but  of  being  slanderous  besides.  Of  these  the  most  offensive  is  the  widely  circulated 
and  circumstantial  story  that  he  was  concerned  in  the  conllict  that  went  on  in  1382 
between  the  city  of  London  and  the  court  in  regard  to  the  election  of  John  of  North- 
ampton to  the  mayoralty  ;  that  in  consequence  of  his  participation  in  this  contest 
he  was  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in  the  island  of  Zealand  ;  that  there  he  remained  for 
some  time,  but  on  his  return  to  England  was  arrested  and  thrown  into  the  Tower  ; 
and  that  after  having  been  imprisoned  for  two  or  three  years,  he  was  released  at  last 
on  the  condition  of  betraying  his  associates,  which  he  accordingly  did.  All  these 
details  are  fictitious.  They  were  made  up  from  inferences  drawn  from  obscure  pas- 
sages in  a  prose  work  entitled  "  The  Testament  of  Love."  This  was  once  attributed 
to  the  poet,  but  is  now  known  not  to  have  been  written  by  him.  Even  had  it  been 
his,  the  statements  derived  from  it  and  applied  to  the  life  of  the  poet  would  have  l)een 
entirely  unwarranted,  as  they  come  into  constant  conflict  with  the  official  records. 
Not  being  his,  this  piece  of  spurious  biography  has  the  additional  discredit  of  con- 
stituting an  unnecessary  libel  upon  his  character. 

From  Chaucer  the  man,  and  the  man  of  affairs,  we  proceed  now  to  the  considera- 
tion of  Chaucer  the  writer.  He  has  left  behind  a  body  of  verse  consisting  of  more 
than  thirty -two  thousand  lines,  and  a  smaller  but  still  far  from  inconsiderable  quantity 
of  prose.  The  latter  consists  mainly  if  not  wholly  of  translations  —  one  a  version  of 
that  favorite  work  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  treatise  of  Boethius  on  the  "  Consolation  of 
Philosophy  ";  another  the  tale  of  Melibeus  in  "The  Canterbury  Tales,"  which  is  taken 
directly  from  the  French  ;  thirdly,  "The  Persones  Tale,"  derived  probably  from  the 
same  quarter,  though  its  original  has  not  as  yet  been  discovered  with  certainty  ;  anVi, 
fourthly,  an  unfinished  treatise  on  the  Astrolabe,  undertaken  for  the  instruction  of  his 
son  Lewis.  The  prose  of  any  literature  always  lags  behind,  and  sometimes  centuries 
behind,  its  poetry.  It  is  therefore  not  surprising  to  find  Chaucer  displaying  in  the 
former  comparatively  little  of  the  peculiar  excellence  which  distinguishes  his  verse. 
In  the  latter  but  little  room  is  found  for  hostile  criticism.  In  the  more  than  thirty 
thousand  lines  of  which  it  is  composed  there  occur,  of  course,  inferior  passages,  and 
some  positively  weak;  but  taking  it  all  in  all,  there  is  but  little  in  it,  considered  as  a 
whole,  which  the  lover  of  literature  as  literature  finds  it  advisable  or  necessary  to  skip. 
As  Southey  remarked,  Chaucer,  with  the  exception  of  Shakespeare,  is  the  most  vari- 
.ous  of  all  English  authors.  He  appeals  to  the  most  diversified  tastes.  He  wrote  love 
poems,  religious  poems,  allegorical  poems,  occasional  poems,  tales  of  common  life,  tales 
of  chivalry.  His  range  is  so  wide  that  any  limited  selection  from  his  works  can  at 
best  give  but  an  inadequate  idea  of  the  variety  and  extent  of  his  powers. 

The  canon  of  Chaucer's  writings  has  now  been  settled  with  a  reasonable  degree  of 
certainty.  For  a  long  time  the  fashion  existed  of  imputing  to  him  the  composition  of 
any  English  poem  of  the  century  following  his  death,  which  was  floating  about  with- 
out having  attached  to  it  the  name  of  any  author.  The  consequence  is  that  the  older 
editions  contain  a  mass  of  matter  which  it  would  have  been  distinctly  discredital)le 
for  any  one  to  have  produced,  let  alone  a  great  poet.  This  has  now\  been  gradually 
dropped,  much  to  the  advantage  of  Chaucer's  reputation,  though  modern  scholarship 
also  refuses  to  admit  the  production  by  him  of  two  or  three  pieces,  such  as  "  The  Court 
of  Love,"  "The  Flower  and  the  Leaf,"  "The  Cuckoo  and  the  Nightingale,"  none  of 
which  was  unworthy  of  his  powers.     It  is  possible,  indeed,  that  the  poet  himself  may 


INTRODUCTION. 


have  had  some  dread  of  being  saddled  with  the  responsibility  of  having  produced 
pieces  which  he  did  not  care  to  father.  It  is  certainly  suggestive  that  he  himself  took 
the  pains  on  one  occasion  to  furnish  what  it  seems  must  have  been  at  the  time  a  fairly 
complete  list  of  his  writings.  In  the  prologue  to  "The  Legend  of  Good  Women"  he 
gave  an  idea  of  the  work  which  up  to  that  period  he  had  accomplished.  The  God  of 
Love,  in  the  interview  which  is  there  described  as  having  taken  place,  inveighs  against 
the  poet  for  having  driven  men  away  from  the  service  due  to  his  deity,  by  the  charac- 
ter of  what  he  had  written.     He  says :  — 

"  Thou  mayst  hit  nat  denye ; 
For  in  pleyn  text,  with-outen  nede  of  glose, 
Thou  hast  translated  the  Romaunce  of  the  Rose, 
That  is  an  heresye  ageyns  my  lawe, 
And  makest  wyse  folk  fro  me  withdrawe. 
And  of  Criseyde  thou  hast  seyd  as  thee  liste, 
That  maketh  men  to  wommen  lasse  triste, 
That  ben  as  trewe  as  ever  was  any  steel." 

The  Legend  of  Good  Women,  II.  327-334. 

Against  this  charge  the  queen  Alcestis  is  represented  as  interposing  to  the  god  a 
defence  of  the  poet,  in  which  occurs  the  following  account  of  Chaucer's  writings :  — 

"  Al  be  hit  that  he  can  nat  well  endyte, 
Yet  hath  he  maked  lewed  folk  delyte 
To  serve  you,  in  preysing  of  your  name. 
He  made  the  book  that  hight  the  Hous  of  Fame, 
.      ^  And  eek  the  Deeth  of  Blaunche  the  Duchesse, 

1,   '  "^1  And  the  Parlement  of  Foules,  as  I  gesse, 

^^  J.  And  al  the  love  of  Palamon  and  Arcyte 

.'  "V  Of  Thebes,  thogh  the  story  is  knowen  lyte ; 

L\y  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  mad  the  Lyf  also  of  seynt  Cecyle ; 
He  made  also,  goon  sithen  a  greet  whyl, 
Origenes  upon  the  Maudeleyne ; 
Him  oghte  now  to  have  the  lesse  peyne ; 
He  hath  mad  many  a  lay  and  many  a  thing." 

TAe  Legend  of  Good  Women,  11.  414-430. 


This  prologue  is  generally  conceded  to  have  been  written  between  13S2  and  1385. 
Though  it  does  not  profess  to  furnish  a  complete  list  of  Chaucer's  writings,  it  can 
fairly  be  assumed  that  it  included  all  which  he  then  regarded  as  of  importance,  either 
on  account  of  their  merit  or  their  length.  If  so,  the  titles  given  above  would 
embrace  the  productions  of  what  may  be  called  the  first  half  of  his  literary  career. 
In  fact,  his  disciple  Lydgate  leads  us  to  believe  that  "  Troilus  and  Criseyde  "  was 
a  comparatively  early  production,  though  it  may  have  undergone,  and  probably  did 
undergo,  revision  before  assuming  its  presejit  form.  "The  Legend  of  Good  Women  " 
—  in  distinction  from  its  prologue  —  would  naturally  occupy  the  time  of  the  poet 


INTRODUCTION. 


during  the  opening  period  of  what  is  here  termed  the  second  half  of  his  hterary 
career.  The  prologue  is  the  only  portion  of  it,  however,  that  is  of  distinctly  high 
merit.  The  work  was  never  completed,  and  Chaucer  pretty  certainly  came  soon  to 
the  conclusion  that  it  was  not  worth  completing.  It  was  in  the  taste  of  the  times; 
but  it  did  not  take  him  long  to  perceive  that  an  extentled  work,  dealing  exclusively 
with  the  sorrows  of  particular  individuals,  was  as  untrue  to  art  as  it  was  to  life. 
It  fell  under  the  ban  of  that  criticism  which  in  "  The  Canterbury  Tales  "  he  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  the  Knight,  who  interrupts  the  doleful  recital  of  the  tragical  tales  told 
by  the  Monk  with  these  words :  — 

"  '  Ho  !  ■  quod  the  knight,  '  good  sir,  namore  of  this, 
That  ye  ban  seyd  is  right  y-nough,  y-wis. 
And  mochel  more ;  for  litel  hevinesse 
Is  right  y-nough  to  mochel  folk,  I  gesse. 
I  seye  for  me,  it  is  a  greet  disese 
Wher-as  men  han  ben  in  greet  welthe  and  ese, 
To  heren  of  hir  sodeyn  fal,  alias  ! 
And  the  contrarie  is  loie  and  greet  solas. 
As  whan  a  man  hath  been  in  povre  estaat, 
And  clymbeth  up,  and  wexeth  fortunat, 
And  ther  abydeth  in  prosperitee, 
Swich  thing  is  gladsom,  as  it  thinketh  me, 
And  of  swich  thing  were  goodly  for  to  telle."  " 

The  Canterbury  Tales,  B,  11.  3957-3969. 

Accordingly,  from  the  composition  of  pieces  of  the  one-sided  and  unsatisfact<jry 
character  of  those  contained  in  "The  Legend  of  Good  Women,"  Chaucer  turned  to 
the  preparation  of  his  great  work,  "The  Canterbury  Tales."  This  gave  him  the 
fullest  opportunity  to  display  all  his  powers,  and  must  have  constituted  the  main 
literary  occupation  of  his  later  life. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  two  of  the  works  mentioned  in  the  prologue  to  "The  Legend       ' 
of  Good  Women  "  are  translations,  and  are  so  avowed.     One  is  of  "  The  Romaunt  of 
the  Rose,"  and  the  other  of  the  philosophical  treatise  of  Boethius.     In  regard  to  the 
version  of  the  former,  which  has  come  down,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  there  was  not 
long  ago  a  disposition  to  deny  the  genuineness  of  all  of  it.     This  now  contents  itself      / 
with  denying  the  genuineness  of  part  of  it.     The  question  cannot  be  considered  here;       \ 
it  is  enough  to  say  that  in  the  opinion  of  the  present  writer,  while  the  subject  is 
attended  with  certain  difficulties,  the  evidence  is  very  strongly  in  favor  of  Chaucer's 
composition  of  the  whole.      But  setting  aside  discussion  of  this  point,  there   can 
scarcely  be  any  doubt  that  Chaucer  began  his  career  as  a  translator.     At  the  period 
he  flourished  he  could  hardly  have  done  otherwise.      It  was  an   almost  inevital)le 
method  of  procedure  on  the  part  of  a  man  who  found  neither  writers  nor  writings  in 
his  own  tongue  worthy  of  imitation,  and  who  could  not  fail  to  be  struck  not  merely 
by  the  excellence  of  the  Latin  classic  poets,  but  also  by  the  superior  culture  of  the 
Continent,    (tn  the  course  of  his  literary  development  he  would  naturally  pass  from^  - 
direct  translation  to  adaptation.    To  the  latter  practice  he  assuredly  resorted  often.    He  j'  ' 
took  the  work  of  the  foreign  author  as  a  basis,  discarded  what  he  did  not  need  or  care  1 
for,  and  added  as  little  or  as  much  as  suited  his  own  convenience.     In  this  way  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


5704  lines  of  the  "  I'ilostrato "  of  Boccaccio  liecame  8246  in  the  "  Troilus  and 
Criseyde  "  of  Chaucer;  but  even  of  the  5704  of  the  Italian  poet,  2974  were  not  used 
by  the  English  poet  at  all,  and  the  2730  that  were  used  underwent  consideraljle 
compression.  In  a  similar  way  he  composes  "The  Knightes  Talc,"  probaljly  the 
most  perfect  narrative  poem  in  our  tongue.  It  was  based  upon  the  "Theseide"  of 
Boccaccio.  But  the  latter  has  9896  lines,  while  the  former  comjirises  but  2250,  and 
of  these  2250  fully  two-thirds  are  entirely  independent  of  the  Italian  poem. 

With  such  free  treatment  of  his  material,  Chaucer's  next  step  would  be  to  direct 
composition,  independent  of  any  sources,  save  in  that  general  way  in  which  every 
author  is  under  obligation  to  what  has  been  previously  produced.  This  finds  its 
crowning  achievement  in  "The  Canterbury  Tales,"  though  several  earlier  pieces  — 
such  as  "  The  Hous  of  Fame,"  "  The  Parlement  of  Foules,"  and  the  prologue  to  "  The 
Legend  of  Good  Women "  —  attest  that  long  before  he  had  shown  his  ability  to 
produce  work  essentially  original.  But  though  in  his  literary  development  Chaucer 
worked  himself  out  of  this  exact  reproduction  of  his  models,  through  a  partial  work- 
ing over  of  them  till  he  finally  attained  complete  independence,  the  habit  of  a  trans- 
lator clung  to  him  to  the  very  end.  Even  after  he  had  fully  justified  his  claim  to 
being  a  great  original  poet,  passages  occur  in  his  writings  which  are  nothing  but  the 
reproduction  of  passages  found  in  some  foreign  poem  in  Latin,  or  French,  or  Italian, 
the  three  languages  with  which  he  was  conversant.  His  translation  of  them  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  they  had  struck  his  fancy;  his  insertion  of  them  into  his  own  work 
was  to  please  others  with  what  had  previously  pleased  himself.  Numerous  passages 
of  this  kind  have  been  pointed  out;  and  doubtless  there  are  others  which  remain  to 
be  pointed  out. 
/  There  is  another  important  thing  to  be  marked  in  the  history  of  Chaucer's  develop- 
\  /  ment.  Not  only  was  poetic  material  lacking  in  the  tongue  at  the  time  of  his  appear- 
y  ance,  but  also  poetic  form.  The  measures  in  use,  while  not  inadequate  for  literary 
expression,  were  incapable  of  embodying  it  in  its  highest  flights.    Consequently,  what 

g^5  Chaucer  did  not  find,  he  had  either  to  borrow  or  to  invent.     He  did  both.     In  the 

,  lines  which  have  been  quoted  he  speaks  of  the  "  balades,  roundels,  and  virelayes," 

•^  ■  which  he  had  composed.  These  were  all  favorite  poetical  forms  in  that  Continental 
country  with  whose  literature  Chaucer  was  mainly  conversant.  There  can  be  little 
question  that  he  tried  all  manner  of  verse  which  the  ingenuity  of  the  poets  of  north- 
ern France  had  devised.  As  many  of  his  shorter  pieces  have  very  certainly  dis- 
appeared, his  success  in  these  various  attempts  cannot  be  asserted  with  positiveness. 
Still,  what  have  survived  show  that  he  was  a  great  literary  artist  as  well  as  a  great 
poet.  His  feats  of  rhyming,  in  particular  in  a  tongue  so  little  fitted  for  it  as  is  ours, 
can  be  seen  in  his  unfinished  poem  of  "  Anelida  and  Arcite,"  in  "  The  Compleynt 
of  Venus,"  and  in  the  envoy  which  follows  "The  Clerkes  Tale."  In  this  last  piece, 
though  there  are  thirty-six  lines,  the  rhymes  are  only  three;  and  two  of  these  belong 
to  fifteen  lines  respectively. 

But  far  more  important  than  such  attempts,  which  prove  interest  in  versification 
rather  than  great  poetic  achievement,  are  the  two  measures  which  he  introduced  into 
our  tongue.  The  first  was  the  seven-line  stanza.  The  rhyming  lines  in  it  are  respec- 
tively the  first  and  third  ;  the  second,  fourth,  and  fifth  ;  and  the  sixth  and  seventh. 
At  a  later  period  this  was  frequently  called  "  rhyme   royal,"  because  the  "  Kingis 


INTRODUCTION. 


(^uair"  was  written  in  it.  For  fully  two  centuries  it  was  one  of  the  most  popular 
measures  in  English  poetry.  Since  the  sixteenth  century,  however,  it  has  been  but 
little  employed.  Far  different  has  been  the  fate  of  the  line  of  ten  syllables,,  or  rather 
of  five  accents.  On  account  of  its  frequent  use  in  "  The  Canterbury  Tales  "  it  was 
called  for  a  long  period,  "  riding  rhyme  "  ;  but  it  now  bears  the  title  of"  heroic  verse." 
As  employed  by  Chaucer,  it  varies  in  slight  particulars  from  the  way  it  is  now  generally 
used.  With  him  the  couplet  character  was  never  made  prominent.  The  sense  was 
not  apt  to  end  at  the  second  line,  but  constantly  tended  to  run  over  into  the  line  fol- 
lowing. There  was  also  frequently  with  him  an  unaccented  eleventh  syllable  ;  and 
this,  though  not  unknown  to  modern  verse,  is  not  common.  Still,  the  difference  be- 
tween the  early  and  the  later  form  are  mere  differences  of  detail,  and  of  compara- 
tively unimportant  detail.  The  introduction  of  this  measure  into  English  may  be 
considered  Chaucer's  greatest  achievement  in  the  matter  of  versification.  The  heroic 
verse  may  have  existed  in  the  tongue  before  he  himself  used  it.  If  so,  it  lurked  un- 
seen and  unintluential.  He  was  the  first  to  employ  it  on  a  grand  scale,  if  not  to  employ 
it  at  all,  and  to  develop  its  capabilities.  Much  the  largest  proportion  of  his  greatest 
work  is  written  in  that  measure.  Yet  in  spite  of  his  example,  it  found  for  two  cen- 
turies comparatively  few  imitators.  It  was  not  till  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century 
that  the  measure  started  on  a  new  course  of  life,  and  entered  upon  the  great  part  it 
has  since  played  in  English  versification. 

The  most  important  of  what  are  sometimes  called  the  minor  works  of  Chaucer  are 
"  The  Parlement  of  Foules,"  "  The  IIous  of  Fame,"  "  Troilus  and  Criseyde,"  and  "  The 
Legend  of  Good  Women."  These  are  all  favorable  examples  of  his  genius.  But 
however  good  they  may  be  in  particular  portions  and  in  particular  respects,  in  general 
excellence  they  yield  place  unquestionably  to  "The  Canterbury  Tales."  It  seems  to 
have  been  very  clearly  the  intention  of  the  poet  to  embody  in  this  crowning  achieve- 
ment of  his  literary  life  everything  in  the  shape  of  a  story  he  had  already  composed 
or  was  purposing  to  compose.  Two  of  the  pieces,  the  story  of  "  Palemon  and  Arcite," 
and  the  "  Life  of  St.  Cecilia,"  as  we  know  from  the  words  of  his  already  quoted,  had 
appeared  long  before.  The  plan  of  the  work  itself  was  most  happily  conceived  ;  and 
in  spite  of  most  painstaking  efforts  to  find  an  original  for  it  or  suggestion  of  it  some- 
where else,  there  seems  no  sufficient  reason  for  doubting  that  the  poet  himself  was 
equal  to  the  task  of  having  devised  it.  No  one  can  certainly  question  the  felicity  with 
which  the  framework  for  embodying  the  tales  was  constructed.  All  ranks  and  classes 
of  society  are  brought  together  in  the  company  of  pilgrims  who  assemble  at  the  Tabard 
Inn  at  Southwark  to  ride  to  the  shrine  of  the  saint  at  Canterbury.  The  military  class 
is  represented  by  the  Knight,  belonging  to  the  highest  order  of  the  nobility,  his  son 
the  Squire,  and  his  retainer  the  Yeoman  ;  the  church  by  the  Abbot,  the  Friar,  the 
Parson,  the  Prioress  with  her  attendant  Nun,  and  the  three  accompanying  Priests,  and 
less  distinctly  by  the  Scholar,  the  Clerk  of  Oxford,  and  by  the  Pardoner  and  the  Sum- 
moner.  For  the  other  professions  are  the  Doctor  of  Physic  and  the  Serjeant  of  Law; 
for  the  middle-class  landholders,  the  Franklin;  and  for  the  various  crafts  and  occu- 
pations, the  Haberdasher,  the  Carpenter,  the  Weaver,  the  Dyer,  the  Upholsterer,  the 
Cook,  the  Ploughman,  the  Sailor,  the  Reeve,  the  Manciple,  and  (joining  the  party  in 
the  course  of  the  pilgrimage)  the  assistant  of  the  alchemist,  who  is  called  the  Canon's 
Yeoman,     Into  the  mouths  of  these  various  personages  were  to  be  put  tales  befitting 


INTRODUCTION. 


their  character  and  condition.  Consequently,  there  was  ample  space  for  stories  of 
chivalry,  of  religion,  of  love,  of  magic,  and  in  truth  of  every  aspect  of  social  life  in  all 
its  highest  and  lowest  manifestations.  Between  the  tales  themselves  were  connecting 
links,  in  which  the  poet  had  the  opportunity  to  give  an  account  of  the  incidents  that 
took  place  on  the  pilgrimage,  the  critical  opinions  expressed  by  the  hearers  of  what 
had  been  told,  and  the  disputes  and  quarrels  that  went  on  between  various  members 
of  the  party.  So  far  as  this  portion  of  his  plan  was  finished,  these  connecting  links 
furnish  some  of  the  most  striking  passages  in  the  work.  In  one  of  them  —  the  pro- 
logue to  "The  Tale  of  the  Wyf  of  Bathe"  —  the  genius  of  the  poet  reaches  along 
certain  lines  its  highest  development;  while  the  general  prologue  descri])ing  the 
various  personages  of  the  party,  though  not  containing  the  highest  poetry  of  the 
work  as  poetry,  is  the  most  acute,  discriminating,  and  brilliant  picture  of  men  and 
manners  that  can  be  found  in  our  literature. 

Such  was  the  plan  of  the  work.  It  was  laid  out  on  an  extensive  scale,  perhaps  on 
too  extensive  a  scale  ever  to  have  been  completed.  Certain  it  is  that  it  was  very  far 
from  ever  reaching  even  remotely  that  result.  According  to  the  scheme  set  forth  in 
the  prologue,  the  work  when  finished  should  have  included  over  one  hundred  and 
twenty  tales.  It  actually  comprises  but  twenty-four.  Even  of  these,  two  are  incom- 
plete:  "The  Cokes  Tale,"  which  is  little  more  than  begun,  and  the  romantic  East- 
ern "  Squieres  Tale,"  which,  in  Milton's  words,  is  "  left  half  told."  To  those  that 
are  finished,  the  connecting  links  have  not  been  supplied  in  many  cases.  Accord- 
ingly, the  work  exists  not  as  a  perfect  whole,  but  in  eight  or  nine  fragmentary  parts, 
each  complete  in  itself,  but  lacking  a  close  connection  with  the  others,  though  all  are 
bound  together  by  the  unity  of  a  common  central  interest.  The  value  of  what  has 
been  done  makes  doubly  keen  the  regret  that  so  much  has  been  left  undone.  Poli- 
tics, religion,  literature,  manners,  are  all  touched  upon  in  this  wide-embracing  view, 
which  still  never  misses  what  is  really  essential;  and  added  to  this  is  a  skill  of  por- 
trayal by  which  the  actors,  whether  narrating  the  tales,  or  themselves  forming  the 
heroes  of  the  narration,  fairly  live  and  breathe  before  our  eyes.  Had  the  work  been 
completed  on  the  scale  upon  which  it  was  begun,  we  should  have  had  a  picture  of  life 
and  opinion  in  the  fourteenth  century  more  vivid  and  exact  than  has  been  drawn  of 
any  century  before  or  since. 

A  common  impression  prevails  that  Chaucer  is  a  very  difficult  author  to  read  or 
understand.  Nothing  could  be  much  farther  from  the  truth.  The  belief  is  due,  as 
has  been  remarked  previously,  to  the  unfamiliar  orthography  more  than  to  any  other 
one  thing.  It  is  strange;  it  looks  uncouth,  and  therefore  is  deemed  hard.  But  all 
difficulties  arising  from  this  source  disappear  after  very  brief  study.  On  the  other 
hand,  Chaucer's  style,  like  that  of  all  early  writers  of  genius,  is  characterized  by  per- 
fect simplicity  and  by  consequent  clearness  of  expression.  There  are  very  few  sen- 
tences over  which  the  reader  who  understands  the  words  has  to  linger  long  in  order 
to  understand  the  meaning.  Of  course,"  like  every  early  author,  his  language  presents 
certain  difficulties  of  its  own.  There  are  found  in  it  words  which  have  now  gone  out 
of  use,  and  words  which  while  still  in  use  have  changed  their  signification.  But 
familiarity  with  all  of  these  is  a  mere  matter  of  detail  and  can  be  acquired  with  com- 
parative ease. 

Somewhat  more  serious  difficulties  belong  to  the  grammar  and  to  the  metre.     It 


THE    ROMAUNT   OF   THE    ROSE. 


FRAGMENT  A. 

Many  men  seyn  that  in  sweveninges 

Ther  nis  but  fal)les  and  lesinges; 

]iut  men  may  somme  swevenes  seen, 

Which  hardely  ne  false  been, 

But  afterward  ben  apparaunte.  5 

This  may  I  drawe  to  waraunte 

An  authour,  that  hight  Macrobes, 

That  halt  not  dremes  false  ne  lees, 

But  undoth  us  the  avisioun 

That  whylom  mette  king  Cipioun.  lO 

And  who-so  sayth,  or  weneth  it  be 
A  lape,  or  elles  [a]  nycetee 
To  wcne  that  dremes  after  falle. 
Let  who-so  liste  a  fool  me  calle. 
For  this  trowe  I,  and  say  for  me,  15 

That  dremes  signiliaunce  be 
Of  good  and  harme  to  many  wightes, 
That  dremen  in  her  slepe  a-nightes 
Ful  many  thinges  covertly, 
That  fallen  after  al  openly.  20 

Within  my  twenty  yere  of  age, 
Whan  that  Love  taketh  his  corage 
Of  yonge  folk,  I  wente  sone 
To  bedde,  as  I  was  wont  to  done, 
And  fast  I  sleep ;  and  in  sleping,  25 

Me  mette  swiche  a  swevening. 
That  lykede  me  wonders  wel; 
But  in  that  sweven  is  never  a  del 
That  it  nis  afterward  befalle. 
Right  as  this  dreem  wol  telle  us  alle.    30 
Now  this  dreem  wol  I  ryme  aright, 
To  make  your  hertes  gaye  and  light; 
For  Love  it  prayeth,  and  also 
Commaundeth  me  that  it  be  so 
And  if  ther  any  aske  me,  35 

Whether  that  it  be  he  or  she. 
How  [that]  this  book  [the]  which  is  here 
Shal  hote,  that  I  rede  you  here; 


It  is  the  Romance  of  the  Rose, 

In  which  al  the  art  of  love  I  close.        40 

The  mater  fair  is  of  to  make ; 
God  graunte  in  gree  that  she  it  take 
For  whom  that  it  begonnen  is ! 
And  that  is  she  that  hath,  y-wis. 
So  mochel  prys;   and  ther-to  she  45 

So  worthy  is  biloved  be. 
That  she  wel  oughte,  of  prys  and  right, 
Be  cleped  Rose  of  every  wight. 

That  it  was  May  me  thoughte  tho. 
It  is  fyve  yere  or  more  ago;  50 

That  it  was  May,  thus  dremed  me, 
In  tyme.of  love  and  lolitee. 
That  al  thing  ginneth  waxen  gay. 
For  ther  is  neither  busk  nor  hay 
In  May,  that  it  nil  shrouded  been,        55 
And  it  with  newe  leves  wreen. 
These  wodes  eek  recoveren  grene. 
That  drye  in  winter  been  to  sene; 
And  the  erthe  wexeth  proud  withalle. 
For  swote  dewes  that  on  it  falle,  60 

And  [al]  the  pore  estat  forget 
In  which  that  winter  hadde  it  set. 
And  than  bicometh  the  ground  so  proud 
That  it  wol  have  a  newe  shroud, 
And  maketh  so  queynt  his  robe  and  fayr 
That  it  hath  hewes  an  hundred  payr     66 
Of  gras  and  floures,  inde  and  pers. 
And  many  hewes  ful  d)'\'ers : 
That  is  the  robe  I  mene,  y-wis. 
Through  which  the  ground  to  preisen  is. 

The  briddes,  that  han  left  hir  song,  71 
Whyl  they  han  suffred  cold  so  strong 
In  wedres  grille,  and  derk  to  sighte, 
Ben  in  May,  for  the  sonne  brighte, 
So  glade,  that  they  shewe  in  singing,    75 
That  in  hir  herte  is  swich  lyking. 
That  they  mote  singen  and  be  light. 
Than  doth  the  nightingale  hir  might 


THE    ROM  AUNT  OF  THE    ROSE.     (A.) 


[79-184. 


To  make  noyse,  and  singcn  hlythe. 

Than  is  blisful,  many  a  sythe,  80 

The  chelaun(he  and  the  papingay. 

Than  yonge  folk  cntendcn  ay 

I'or  to  ben  gay  and  amorous, 

The  tyme  is  than  so  savorous. 

Hard  is  his  herte  that  loveth  nought     85 

In  May,  whan  al  this  mirth  is  wrought; 

Whan  he  may  on  these  braunches  here 

The  smale  briddes  singen  clere 

Hir  bhsful  swete  song  pitous; 

And  in  this  sesoun  delytous,  90 

Whan  love  affrayeth  alle  thing. 

Me  thoughte  a-night,  in  my  sloping, 

Right  in  my  bed,  ful  redily, 

That  it  was  by  the  morowe  erly. 

And  up  I  roos,  and  gan  me  clothe;       95 

Anoon  I  wissh  myn  hondes  bothe; 

A  sylvre  nedle  forth  I  drogh 

Out  of  an  aguiler  queynt  y-nogh, 

And  gan  this  nedle  threde  anon; 

For  out  of  toun  me  list  to  gon  1 00 

The  sowne  of  briddes  for  to  here, 

That  on  thise  busshes  singen  clere. 

And  in  the  swete  sesoun  that  leef  is. 

With  a  threde  basting  my  slevis, 

Aloon  I  wente  in  my  playing,  105 

The  smale  foules  song  harkning; 

That  peyned  hem  ful  many  a  payre 

To  singe  on  bowes  blosmed  fayre. 

lolif  and  gay,  ful  of  gladnesse. 

Toward  a  river  I  gan  me  dresse,  IIO 

That  I  herde  renne  faste  by; 

For  fairer  playing  non  saugh  I 

Than  playen  me  by  that  riveer. 

For  from  an  hille  that  stood  ther  near 

Cam  doun  the  streem  ful  stif  and  bold. 

Cleer  was  the  water,  and  as  cold  I16 

As  any  welle  is,  sooth  to  seyne; 

And  somdel  lasse  it  was  than  Seine, 

But  it  was  straighter  wel  away. 

And  never  saugh  I,  er  that  day,  1 20 

The  water  that  so  wel  lyked  me; 

And  wonder  glad  was  I  to  see 

'J'hat  lusty  place,  and  that  riveer; 

And  with  that  water  that  ran  so  cleer 

My  face  I  wissh.     Tho  saugh  1  wel     125 

The  botme  paved  everydel 

With  gravel,  ful  of  stones  shene. 

The  medewe  softc,  swote,  and  grene, 

Beet  right  on  the  water-syde. 

F"ul  cleer  was  than  the  morow-tyde,    130 

And  ful  attempre,  out  of  drede. 


Tho  gan  I  walke  through  the  mede. 
Dounward  ay  in  my  pleying. 
The  river-syde  costeying. 

And  whan  I  had  a  whyle  goon,        135 
I  saugh  a  Gakdin  right  anoon, 
Ful  long  and  brood,  and  everydel 
P^nclos  it  was,  and  walled  wel. 
With  hye  walles  enbatailled. 
Portrayed  without,  and  wel  entailled  140 
With  many  riche  portraitures; 
And  bothe  images  and  peyntures 
Gan  I  biholde  bisily. 
And  I  wol  telle  you,  redily. 
Of  thilke  images  the  semblaunce,        I45 
As  fer  as  I  have  remembraunce. 

A-midde  saugh  I  Hate  stonde, 
That  for  hir  wrathe,  ire,  and  onde, 
Semed  to  been  a  moveresse. 
An  angry  wight,  a  chideresse;  1 50 

And  ful  of  gyle,  and  fel  corage, 
By  semljlaunt  was  that  ilke  image. 
And  she  was  no-thing  wel  arrayed, 
But  lyk  a  wood  womman  afrayed; 
Y-frounced  foule  was  hir  visage,  1 55 

And  grenning  for  dispitous  rage; 
Hir  nose  snorted  up  for  tene. 
Ful  hidous  was  she  for  to  sene, 
Ful  foul  and  rusty  was  she,  this. 
Hir  heed  y-writhen  was,  y-wis,  1 60 

Ful  grimly  with  a  greet  towayle. 

An  image  of  another  entayle, 
A  lift  half,  was  hir  faste  by; 
Hir  name  above  hir  heed  saugh  I, 
And  she  was  called  Felon  YE.  165 

Another  image,  that  ViLANYE 
Y-cleped  was,  saugh  I  and  fond 
Upon  the  walle  on  hir  right  hond. 
Vilanye  was  lyk  somdel 
That  other  image;  and,  trusteth  wel,  170 
She  semed  a  wikked  creature. 
By  countenaunce,  m  portrayture, 
She  semed  he  ful  despitous, 
And  eek  ful  proud  and  outrageous. 
Wel  coude  he  peynte,  I  undertake,     1 75 
That  swiche  image  coude  make. 
Ful  foul  and  cherlish  semed  she. 
And  eek  vilaynous  for  to  be, 
And  litel  coude  of  norture, 
To  worshipe  any  creature.  180 

And  next  was  peynted  CoVElTVSE, 
That  eggeth  folk,  in  many  gyse, 
To  take  and  yeve  right  nought  ageyn. 
And  grete  tresours  up  to  leyn. 


1 85-288.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


And  that  is  she  that  fur  usure  185 

I.cneth  to  many  a  creature 
The  lasse  fnr  the  more  winning, 
So  coveitous  is  her  brenning. 
And  that  is  she,  for  penyes  fele, 
That  techeth  for  to  robl)e  and  stele      190 
These  theves,  and  these  sniale  harlotes; 
And  that  is  roathe,  for  by  hir  throtes 
Ful  many  oon  hangeth  at  the  laste. 
She  maketh  folk  compasse  and  caste 
To  taken  other  folkes  thing,  195 

Tlirough  robberie,  or  miscounting. 
And  that  is  she  that  maketh  trechoures; 
And  she  [that]  maketh  false  pledoures, 
That  with  hir  termes  and  hir  domes 
Doon      maydens,     children,     and     eek 
gromes  200 

Hir  heritage  to  forgo. 
Ful  croked  were  hir  hondes  two  ; 
For  Coveityse  is  ever  wood 
To  grypen  other  folkes  good. 
Coveityse,  for  hir  winning,  205 

Ful  leef  hath  other  mennes  thing. 

Another  image  set  saugh  I 
Next  Coveityse  faste  by, 
And  she  was  cleped  AvARiCE. 
Ful  foul  in  peynting  was  that  vice;      2IO 
Ful  sad  and  caytif  was  she  eek, 
And  al-so  grene  as  any  leek. 
So  yvel  hewed  was  hir  colour, 
Hir  semed  have  lived  in  langour. 
She  was  lyk  thing  for  hungre  deed,     215 
That  ladde  hir  lyf  only  by  breed 
Kneden  with  eisel  strong  and  egre; 
And  therto  she  was  lene  and  megre. 
And  she  was  clad  ful  povrely, 
Al  in  an  old  torn  courtepy,  220 

As  she  were  al  with  dogges  torn ; 
And  bothe  bihinde  and  eek  biforn 
Clouted  was  she  beggarly. 
A  mantel  heng  hir  faste  by, 
Upon  a  perche,  weyke  and  smnlle;      225 
A  burnet  cote  heng  therwithalle, 
Furred  with  no  menivere, 
But  with  a  furre  rough  of  here, 
Of  lambe-skinnes  hevy  and  blake; 
It  was  ful  old,  I  undertake.  230 

For  Avarice  to  clothe  hir  wel 
Nc  hasteth  hir,  never  a  del; 
For  certeynty  it  were  hir  loth 
To  weren  ofte  that  ilke  cloth; 
And  if  it  were  forwererl,  she  235 

Wolde  have  ful  greet  necessitee 


Of  clothing,  er  she  boughte  hir  newe, 
Al  were  it  bad  of  wolle  and  hewe. 
This  Avarice  held  in  hir  hande 
A  purs,  that  heng  [doun]  by  a  bande;  240 
And  that  she  hidde  and  bond  so  stronge, 
Men  must  abyde  wonder  longe 
Out  of  that  purs  er  ther  come  ought, 
For  that  ne  comcth  not  in  hir  thought; 
It  was  not,  certein,  hir  entente  245 

That  fro  that  purs  a  peny  wente. 

And  by  that  image,  nygh  y-nough, 
Was  peynt  Envyk,  that  never  lough. 
Nor  never  wel  in  herte  ferde 
Hut-if  she  outher  saugh  or  herde  250 

Som  greet  mischaunce,  or  greet  disese. 
No-thing  may  so  moch  hir  plese 
As  mischef  and  misaventure; 
Or  whan  she  seeth  discomfiture 
Upon  any  worthy  man  falle,  255 

Than  lyketh  hir '[ful]  wel  withalle. 
She  is  ful  glad  in  hir  corage. 
If  she  see  any  greet  linage 
Be  brought  to  nought  in  shamful  wyse. 
And  if  a  man  in  honour  ryse,  260 

Or  by  his  witte,  or  by  prowesse, 
Of  that  hath  she  gret  hevinesse; 
For,  trusteth  wel,  she  goth  nigh  wood 
Whan  any  chaunce  happeth  good. 
Envye  is  of  swich  crueltee,  265 

That  feith  ne  trouthe  holdeth  she 
To  freend  ne  felawe,  bad  or  good. 
Ne  she  hath  kin  noon  of  hir  blood, 
That  she  nis  ful  hir  enemy; 
She  nolde,  I  dar  seyn  hardely,  270 

Ilir  owne  fader  ferde  wel. 
And  sore  abyeth  she  everydel 
Hir  malice,  and  hir  maltalent : 
For  she  is  in  so  greet  turment 
And  hath   such    [wo],   whan   folk    doth 
good,  275 

That  nigh  she  melteth  for  pure  wood; 
Hir  herte  kerveth  and  to-breketh 
That  god  the  peple  wel  awreketh. 
Envye,  y-wis,  shal  never  lette 
Som  blame  upon  the  folk  to  sette.       280 
I  trowe  that  if  Envye,  y-wis, 
Knewe  the  beste  man  that  is 
On  this  syde  or  biyond  the  see, 
\'it  somwhat  lakken  him  v/olde  she. 
And  if  he  were  so  hende  and  wys,       285 
That  she  ne  mighte  al  abate  his  prys, 
"S'it  wolde  she  blame  his  worthinesse, 
Or  by  hir  wordes  make  it  lesse. 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


[289-394. 


I  saiigh  Envyc,  in  that  peynting, 

Hadde  a  wonderful  loking;  290 

For  she  ne  loked  but  awry, 

Or  overthwart,  al  baggingly. 

And  she  hadde  [eek]  a  foul  usage; 

She  mighte  lokc  in  no  visage 

Of  man  or  womman  forth-right  pleyn,  295 

Kut  shette  oon  ye  for  disdeyn; 

So  for  envye  brenned  she 

Whan  she  mighte  any  man  [y]-see, 

That  fair,  or  worthy  were,  or  wys, 

Or  elles  stood  in  folkes  prys.  300 

SdKOWK  was  peynted  next  Envye 
Upon  that  walle  of  masonrye. 
But  wel  was  seen  in  hir  colour 
That  she  hadde  lived  in  langour; 
Hir  semed  have  the  launyce.  305 

Nought  half  so  pale  was  Avaryce, 
Nor  no-thing  lyk,  [as]  of  lenesse; 
For  sorowe,  thought,  and  greet  distresse, 
That  she  hadde  suffred  day  and  night 
Marie  hir  ful  yelwe,  and  no-thing  bright, 
Ful  fade,  pale,  and  megre  also.  311 

Was  never  wight  yit  half  so  wo 
As  that  hir  semed  for  to  be. 
Nor  so  fultilled  of  ire  as  she.  314 

I  trowe  that  no  wight  mighte  hir  plese, 
Nor  do  that  thing  that  mighte  hir  ese; 
Nor  she  ne  wolde  hir  sorovve  slake. 
Nor  comfort  noon  unto  hir  take; 
So  depe  was  hir  wo  bigonnen. 
And  eek  hir  herte  in  angre  ronnen,     320 
A  sorowful  thing  wel  semed  she. 
Nor  she  hadde  no-thing  slowe  be 
For  to  forcracchen  al  hir  face, 
And  for  to  rende  in  many  place 
Hir  clothes,  and  for  to  tere  hir  swire,  325 
As  she  that  was  fulfilled  of  ire; 
And  al  to-torn  lay  eek  hir  here 
Aboute  hir  shuldres,  here  and  there. 
As  she  that  hadde  it  al  to-rent 
For  angre  and  for  maltalent.  330 

And  eek  I  telle  you  certeynly 
How  that  she  weep  ful  tenderly. 
In  world  nis  wight  so  hard  of  herte 
That  hadtle  seen  hir  sorowes  smerte. 
That  nolde  have  had  of  hir  pitee,         335 
So  wo-bigoon  a  thing  was  she. 
She  al  to-dasshte  hir-self  for  wo. 
And  smoot  togider  her  handes  two. 
To  sorwe  was  she  ful  ententyf, 
That  woful  recchelees  caityf;  340 

Hir  roughte  litel  of  pleying, 


Or  of  clipping  or  [of]  kissing; 

For  who-so  sorweful  is  in  herte 

Him  liste  not  to  pleye  ne  sterte. 

Nor  for  to  daunsen,  ne  to  singe,  345 

Ne  may  his  herte  in  temper  bringe 

To  make  loye  on  even  or  morowe; 

For  loye  is  contraire  unto  sorowe. 

Elde  was  peynted  after  this, 
That  shorter  was  a  foot,  ywis,  350 

Than  she  was  wont  in  her  yonghede. 
Unnethe  hir-self  she  mighte  fede; 
So  feble  and  eek  so  old  was  she 
That  faded  was  al  hir  beautee. 
F"ul  salowe  was  waxen  hir  colour,         355 
Hir  heed  for-hoor  was,  whyt  as  (lour. 
Y-wis,  gret  qualm  ne  were  it  noon, 
Ne  sinne,  although  hir  lyf  were  gon. 
Al  woxen  was  hir  body  unwelde. 
And  drye,  and  dwyned  al  for  elde.       360 
A  foul  forwelked  thing  was  she 
That  whylom  round  and  softe  had  be. 
Hir  eres  shoken  fast  withalle. 
As  from  her  heed  they  wolde  falle. 
Hir  face  frounced  and  forpyned,         365 
And  bothe  hir  hondes  lorn,  fordwyned. 
So  old  she  was  that  she  ne  wente 
A  foot,  but  it  were  by  potente. 

The  Tyme,  that  passeth  night  and  day, 
And  restelees  travayleth  ay,  370 

And  steleth  from  us  so  prively, 
That  to  us  seemeth  sikerly 
That  it  in  oon  point  dwelleth  ever. 
And  certes,  it  ne  resteth  never, 
But  goth  so  faste,  and  passeth  ay,        375 
That  ther  nis  man  that  thinke  may 
What  tyme  that  now  present  is : 
Asketh  at  these  clerk es  this; 
For  [er]  men  thinke  it  redily. 
Three  tymes  been  y-passed  by.  380 

The  tyme,  that  may  not  soiourne. 
But  goth,  and  never  may  retourne, 
As  water  that  doun  renneth  ay. 
But  never  drope  retourne  may  ; 
Ther  may  no-thing  as  tyme  endure,     385 
Metal,  nor  erthely  creature; 
For  alle  thing  it  fret  and  shal : 
The  tyme  eek,  that  chaungeth  al, 
And  al  doth  waxe  and  fostred  be. 
And  alle  thing  distroyeth  he  :  390 

The  tyme,  that  eldeth  our  aunccssours 
And  eldeth  kinges  and  emperours, 
And  that  us  alle  shal  overcomen 
Er  that  deeth  us  shal  have  nomen : 


395-500.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


The  tyme,  that  hath  al  in  welde  395 

To  eldcn  folk,  liad  niaad  hir  elde 
So  inly,  that,  to  my  witiiig, 
She  mighte  helpe  hir-sclf  no-thing, 
But  turned  ageyn  unto  childhede; 
She  hat!  no-thing  hir-self  to  lede,        400 
Ne  wit  ne  pitii  in[\vith]  hir  liolde 
More  than  a  child  of  two  yeer  olde. 
But  natheles,  I  trowe  that  she 
Was  fair  sumtyine,  and  fresh  to  see, 
Whan  she  was  in  hir  rightful  age :       405 
But  she  was  past  al  that  passage 
And  was  a  doted  thing  bicomcn. 
A  furred  cope  on  had  she  nonien; 
W^el  had  she  clad  hir-self  and  warm, 
For  cold  mighte  elles  doon  hir  harm. 
These  olde  folk  have  alwey  colde,       41 1 
Hir  kinde  is  swiche,  whan  they  ben  olde. 

Another  thing  was  doon  ther  write, 
That  semede  lyk  an  ipocrite, 
And  it  was  cleped  Pope-holy.  415 

Tliat  ilke  is  she  that  prively 
Ne  spareth  never  a  wikked  dede, 
Whan  men  of  hir  taken  non  hede; 
And  maketh  hir  outward  precious, 
With  pale  visage  and  pitous,  420 

And  semeth  a  simple  creature; 
But  ther  nis  no  misaventure 
That  she  ne  thenketh  in  hir  corage. 
Ful  lyk  to  hir  was  that  image. 
That  maked  was  lyk  hir  semblaunce.  425 
She  was  ful  simple  of  countenaunce, 
And  she  was  clothed  and  eek  shod. 
As  she  were,  for  the  love  of  god, 
Yolden  to  religioun, 

Swich  semed  hir  devocioun.  430 

A  sauter  held  she  faste  in  honde, 
And  bisily  she  gan  to  fonde 
To  make  many  a  feynt  prayere 
To  god,  and  to  his  seyntes  dere. 
Ne  she  was  gay,  fresh,  ne  lolyf,  435 

But  semed  be  ful  ententyf 
To  gode  werkes,  and  to  faire. 
And  therto  she  had  on  an  haire. 
Ne  certes,  she  was  fat  no-thing, 
But  semed  wery  for  fasting;  440 

Of  colour  pale  and  deed  was  she. 
From  hir  the  gate  [shal]  werned  be 
Of  paradys,  that  blisful  place; 
For  swich  folk  maketh  lene  hir  face. 
As  Crist  seith  in  his  evangyle,  445 

To  gete  hem  prys  in  toun  a  whyle; 
And  for  a  litel  glorie  veine 


They  lesen  god  and  eek  his  reine. 

And  alderlast  of  everichoon, 
Was  peynted  Povkkp  al  aloon,  450 

That  not  a  peny  hadde  in  wolde, 
Al-though  [that]  she  hir  clothes  solde, 
And  though  she  shulde  anhonged  be; 
I'or  naked  as  a  worm  was  she. 
Anil  if  the  weder  stormy  were,  455 

For  colde  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  mantel, 
No  more  was  there,  never  a  del,  460 

To  clothe  her  with;    I  undertake, 
Gret  leyser  hadde  she  to  (|uake. 
And  she  was  put,  that  I  of  talke, 
Fer  fro  these  other,  up  in  an  halke; 
There  lurked  and  there  coured  she,    465 
For  povre  thing,  wher-so  it  be, 
Is  shamfast,  and  despysed  ay. 
Acursed  may  wel  be  that  day, 
That  povre  man  conceyved  is; 
For  god  wot,  al  to  selde,  y-wis,  470 

Is  any  povre  man  wel  fed, 
Or  wel  arayed  or  y-cled, 
Or  wel  biloved,  in  swich  wyse 
In  honour  that  he  may  aryse. 

AUe  these  thinges,  wel  avysed,         475 
As  I  have  you  er  this  devysed, 
With  gold  and  asure  over  alle 
Depeynted  were  upon  the  walle. 
Squar  was  the  wal,  and  high  somdel; 
Enclosed,  and  y-barred  wel,  480 

In  stede  of  hegge,  was  that  gardin; 
Com  never  shepherde  therin. 
Into  that  gardyn,  wel  [y-]wrought, 
Who-so  that  me  coude  have  brought, 
By  laddre,  or  elles  by  degree,  485 

It  wolde  wel  have  lyked  me. 
For  swich  solace,  swich  loye,  and  play, 
I  trowe  that  never  man  ne  say, 
As  in  that  place  delitous. 
The  gardin  was  not  daungerous  490 

To  herberwe  briddes  many  oon. 
.So  riche  a  yerd  was  never  noon 
Of  briddes  songe,  and  braunches  grene. 
Therin  were  briddes  mo,  I  wene. 
Than  been  in  alle  the  rewme  of  Fraunce. 
Ful  blisful  was  the  accordaunce  496 

Of  swete  and  pitous  songe  they  made, 
For  al  this  world  it  oughte  glade. 
And  I  niy-self  so  mery  ferde. 
Whan  I  hir  blisful  songes  herde,  500 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE,     (A.) 


[501-604. 


Ti.at  for  an  hundred  pound  nolde  I,  — 
If  that  the  passage  openly 
Hadde  been  unto  me  free  — 
That  1  nolde  entren  for  to  see 
Thasseniblee,  god  [it  kepe  and  were  !]  — 
Of  briddes,  whiche  therinne  were,       506 
That  songen,  through  hir  mery  throtes, 
Daunces  of  love,  and  mery  notes. 

Whan  I  thus  herde  foules  singe, 
I  fel  faste  in  a  weymentinge,  510 

By  which  art,  or  by  what  engyn 
I  mighte  come  in  that  gardyn; 
But  way  1  couthe  hnde  noon 
Into  that  gardin  for  to  goon. 
Ne  nought  wiste  I  if  that  ther  were     515 
Eyther  hole  or  place  [o]-where, 
By  which  I  mighte  have  entree; 
Ne  ther  was  noon  to  teche  me; 
For  I  was  al  aloon,  y-wis, 
Ful  wo  and  anguissous  of  this.  520 

Til  atte  laste  bithoughte  I  me, 
That  by  no  weye  ne  mighte  it  be; 
That  ther  nas  laddre  or  wey  to  passe, 
Or  hole,  into  so  fair  a  place. 

Tho  gan  I  go  a  ful  gret  pas  525 

Envyroning  even  in  compas 
The  closing  of  the  square  wal, 
Til  that  I  ft)nd  a  wiket  smal 
So  shet,  that  I  ne  mighte  in  goon. 
And  other  entree  was  ther  noon.  530 

Upon  this  dore  1  gan  to  smyte, 
That  was  [so]  fetys  and  so  lyte; 
For  other  wey  coude  I  not  seke. 
Ful  long  I  shoof,  and  knokked  eke, 
And  stood  ful  long  and  of[t]  herkning 
If  that  I  herde  a  wight  coming;  536 

Til  that  the  dore  of  thilke  entree 
A  mayden  curteys  opened  me. 
Hir  heer  was  as  yelowe  of  hewe 
As  any  basin  scoured  newe.  540 

Hir  flesh  [as]  tendre  as  is  a  chike, 
With  bente  browes,  smothe  and  slike; 
And  by  mesure  large  were 
The  opening  of  hir  yen  clere. 
Hir  nose  of  good  proporcioun,  545 

Hir  yen  greye  as  a  faucoun. 
With  swete  breeth  and  wel  savoured. 
Hir  face  whyt  and  wel  coloured. 
With  litel  mouth,  and  round  to  see; 
A  clove  chin  eek  hadde  she.  550 

Hir  nekke  was  of  good  fasoun 
In  lengthe  and  gretnesse,  by  resouii, 
Withoute  bleyne,  scabbe,  or  royne. 


Fro  lerusalem  unto  Burgoyne 

Ther  nis  a  fairer  nekke,  y-wis,  555 

To  fele  how  smothe  and  softe  it  is. 

Hir  throte,  al-so  whyt  of  hewc 

As  snow  on  braunche  snowed  newe. 

Of  body  ful  wel  wrought  was  she 

Men  neded  not,  in  no  cuntree,  560 

A  fairer  body  for  to  seke. 

And  <jf  fyn  orfrays  had  she  eke 

A  chapelet :  so  semly  oon 

Ne  wered  never  mayde  upon;    .  .  . 

And  faire  above  that  chapelet  565 

A  rose  gerland  had  she  set. 

She  hadde  [in  honde]  a  gay  mirour, 

And  with  a  riche  gold  tressour 

Hir  heed  was  tressed  queyntely; 

Hir  sieves  sewed  fetisly.  570 

And  for  to  kepe  hir  hondes  faire 

Of  gloves  whyte  she  hadde  a  paire. 

And  she  hadde  on  a  cote  of  grene 

Of  cloth  of  Gaunt;    vvithouten  wene, 

Wel  semed  by  hir  apparayle  575 

She  was  not  wont  to  greet  travayle. 

For  whan  she  kempt  was  fetisly, 

And  wel  arayed  and  richely, 

Thanne  had  she  doon  al  hir  lournee; 

For  mery  and  wel  bigoon  was  she.       580 

She  ladde  a  lusty  lyf  in  May, 

She    hadde    no    thought,    by   night    ne 

day, 
Of  no-thing,  but  it  were  oonly 
To  graythe  hir  wel  and  uncouthly. 

Whan  that    this   dore   hadde  opened 

me  585 

This  mayden,  semely  for  to  see, 
I  thanked  hir  as  I  best  mighte, 
And  axede  hir  how  that  she  highte, 
And  what  she  was,  I  axede  eke. 
And  she  to  me  was  nought  unmeke,    590 
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  mighty  and  ful  riche  am  I,  595 

And  that  of  oon  thing,  namely; 
For  I  entende  to  no-thing 
But  to  my  loye,  and  my  pleying, 
And  for  to  kembe  and  tresse  me. 
Aqueynted  am  I,  and  privee  600 

With  Mirthe,  lord  of  this  gardyn. 
That  fro  the  lande  of  Alexandryn 
Made  the  trees  be  hider  fet, 
That  in  this  gardin  been  y-set. 


605-709.] 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


And    whan    the    trees    were    woxen    on 
hiyhtc,  605 

This  wal,  that  stant  here  in  tliy  sighte, 
Diile  Mirthe  enclusen  al  ahuute; 
And  these  iniajjes,  al  withoute, 
He  diile  hem  bothe  entaile  and  peynte, 
That  neither  ben  lolyf  ne  (jueynte,      610 
But  they  ben  ful  of  surowe  and  wo, 
As  thou  hast  seen  a  whyle  aj^o. 

'  And  ofte  tyme,  him  to  solaee. 
Sir  Mirthe  eometh  into  this  place, 
And  eek  with  him  conieth  his  meynee. 
That  liven  in  lust  and  lolitee.  616 

And  now  is  Mirthe  therin,  to  here 
The  briddes,  how  they  singen  clere, 
The  mavis  and  the  nightingale. 
And  other  loly  briddes  smale.  620 

And  thus  he  walketh  to  solace 
Him  and  his  folk;    for  swetter  place 
To  pleyen  in  he  may  not  tinde, 
Although  he  soughte  oon  in-til  Inde. 
The  alther-fairest  folk  to  see  625 

That  in  this  world  may  founde  be 
Hath  Mirthe  with  him  in  his  route. 
That  folowen  him  alwayes  aboute.' 

When  Ydelnesse  had  told  al  this, 
And  I  hadde  herkned  wel,  y-vvis,        630 
Than  seide  I  to  dame  Ydelnesse, 
'  Now  al-so  wisly  god  me  blesse, 
Sith  Mirthe,  that  is  so  fair  and  free. 
Is  in  this  yerde  with  his  meynee. 
Fro  thilke  assemblee,  if  I  may,  635 

Shal  no  man  werne  me  to-day. 
That  I  this  night  ne  mote  it  see. 
For,  wel  wene  I,  ther  with  him  be 
A  fair  and  loly  companye 
Fulfilled  of  alle  curtesye.'  64O 

And  forth,  withoute  wordes  mo, 
In  at  the  wiket  wente  I  tho, 
That  Ydelnesse  hadde  opened  me. 
Into  that  gardin  fair  to  see. 

And  whan  I  was  [therjin,  y-wis,     645 
Myn  herte  was  ful  glad  of  this. 
For  wel  wende  I  ful  sikerly 
Have  been  in  paradys  erth[e]ly; 
So  fair  it  was,  that,  trusteth  wel. 
It  semed  a  place  espirituel         .  650 

For  certes,  as  at  my  devys, 
Ther  is  no  place  in  paradys 
So  good  in  for  to  dwelle  or  be 
As  in  that  Gakdin,  thoughte  me; 
For  there  was  many  a  brid  singing,     655 
Throughout  the  yerde  al  thringing. 


In  many  places  were  nightingales, 

Alpes,  linches,  and  wodewales, 

That  in  her  swete  song  delyten 

In  thilke  place  as  they  habyten.  660 

Ther  mighte  men  see  many  tlokkes 

Of  turtles  and  [of]  laverokkes. 

C'halaundres  fele  saw  I  there, 

'Jhat  wery,  nigh  forsongen  were. 

And  thrustles,  terins,  and  mavys,         665 

That  songen  for  to  winne  hem  prys, 

And  eek  to  sormounte  in  hir  song 

These  other  briddes  hem  among. 

By  note  made  fair  servyse 

These  briddes,  that  I  you  devyse;        670 

They  songe  hir  song  as  fair»and  wel 

As  angels  doon  espirituel. 

And,  trusteth  wel,  whan  I  hem  herde. 

Full  lustily  and  wel  I  ferde; 

For  never  yit  swich  melodye  675 

Was  herd  of  man  that  mighte  dye. 

Swich  swete  song  was  hem  among. 

That  me  thoughte  it  no  briddes  song. 

But  it  was  wonder  lyk  to  be 

Song  of  mermaydens  of  the  see;  680 

That,  for  her  singing  is  so  clere. 

Though  we  mermaydens  clepe  hem  here 

In  English,  as  in  our  usaunce. 

Men  clepen  hem  sereyns  in  Fraunce. 

Ententif  weren  for  to  singe  685 

These  briddes,  that  nought  unkunninge 
Were  of  hir  craft,  and  apprentys. 
But  of  [hir]  song  sotyl  and  wys. 
And  certes,  whan  I  herde  hir  song. 
And  saw  the  grene  place  among,         690 
In  herte  I  wex  so  wonder  gay, 
That  I  was  never  erst,  er  that  day, 
So  lolyf,  nor  so  wel  bigo, 
Ne  mery  in  herte,  as  I  was  tho. 
And  than  wiste  I,  and  saw  ful  wel,      695 
That  Ydelnesse  me  served  wel, 
That  me  putte  in  swich  lolitee. 
Hir  freend  wel  oughte  I  for  to  be, 
Sith  she  the  dore  of  that  gardyn 
Hadde  opened,  and  me  leten  in.  700 

From  hennesforth  how  that  I  wroughte, 
I  shal  you  tellen,  as  me  thoughte. 
First,  whereof  Mirthe  served  there. 
And  eek  what  folk  ther  with  him  were, 
Withoute  fable  I  wol  descryve.  705 

And  of  that  gardin  eek  as  blyve 
I  wol  you  tellen  after  this. 
The  faire  fasoun  al,  y-wis, 
That  wel  [y-] wrought  was  for  the  nones, 


8 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


[710-814. 


I  may  not  telle  you  al  at  ones:  710 

But  as  I  may  and  can,  I  shal 
By  ordre  tellen  you  it  al. 

Ful  fair  servyse  and  eek  ful  swete 
These  briddes  maden  as  they  sete. 
Layes  of  luve,  ful  wel  sowning  713 

They  songen  in  hir  largoning; 
Summe  highe  and  summe  eek  lowe  songe 
Upon  the  braunches  grene  y-spronge. 
The  sweetnesse  of  hir  melodye 
Made  al  myn  herte  in  reverdye.  720 

And  whan  that  I  hadde  herd,  I  trowe, 
These  briddes  singing  on  a  rowe, 
Than  mighte  I  not  withholde  me 
That  I  ne  wente  in  for  to  see 
Sir  Mirthe;    for  my  desiring  725 

Was  him  to  seen,  over  alle  thing. 
His  countenaunce  and  his  manere: 
That  sighte  was  to  me  ful  dere. 

Tho  wente  I  forth  on  my  right  hond 
Doun  by  a  litel  path  I  fond  730 

Of  mentes  ful,  and  fenel  grene; 
And  faste  by,  withoute  wene. 
Sir  Mirthe  I  fond;   and  right  anoon 
Unto  sir  Mirthe  gan  I  goon, 
Ther-as  he  was,  him  to  solace.  735 

And  with  him,  in  that  lusty  place. 
So  fair  folk  and  so  fresh  hadde  he, 
That  whan  I  saw,  I  wondred  me 
Fro  whennes  swich  folk  mighte  come, 
So  faire  they  weren,  alle  and  some;     740 
For  they  were  lyk,  as  to  my  sighte, 
To  angels,  that  ben  fethered  brighte. 

This  folk,  of  which  I  telle  you  so, 
Upon  a  Carole  wenten  tho. 
A  lady  caroled  hem,  that  highte  745 

Gladnes,  [the]  blisful  and  the  lighte; 
Wel  coude  she  singe  and  lustily, 
Non  half  so  wel  and  semely, 
And  make  in  song  swich  refreininge. 
It  sat  hir  wonder  wel  to  singe.  750 

Hir  vols  ful  cleer  was  and  ful  swete. 
She  was  nought  rude  ne  unmete, 
But  couthe  y-now  of  swich  doing 
As  longeth  unto  caroling  : 
For  she  was  wont  in  every  place  755 

To  singen  first,  folk  to  solace; 
F"or  singing  most  she  gaf  hir  to; 
No  craft  had  she  so  leef  to  do. 

Tho  mightest  thou  caroles  seen, 
And  folk  [ther]  daunce  and  mery  been. 
And  make  many  a  fair  tourning  761 

Upon  the  grene  gras  springing. 


Ther  mightest  thou  see  these  floutours, 

Minstrales,  and  eek  logelours, 

That  wel  to  singe  dide  hir  peyne.»      765 

Somme  songe  songes  of  Loreyne; 

For  in  Loreyne  hir  notes  be 

I''ul  swetter  than  in  this  contree. 

Ther  was  many  a  timbestere. 

And  saylours,  that  I  dar  wel  swere      770 

Couthe  hir  craft  ful  parfitly. 

The  timbres  up  ful  sotilly 

They  caste,  and  henten  [hem]  ful  ofte 

Upon  a  finger  faire  and  softe. 

That  they  [ne]  fayled  never-mo.         775 

Ful  fetis  damiselles  two, 

Right  yonge,  and  fuUe  of  semlihede, 

In  kirtles,  and  non  other  wede. 

And  faire  tressed  every  tresse, 

Hadde  Mirthe  doon,  for  his  noblesse, 

Amidde  the  carole  for  to  daunce;         781 

But  her-of  lyth  no  remembraunce, 

How  that  they  daunced  queyntely. 

That  oon  wolde  come  al  prively 

Agayn  that  other :  and  whan  they  were 

Togidre  almost,  they  threwe  y-fere       786 

Hir  mouthes  so,  that  through  hir  play 

It  semed  as  they  kiste  alway; 

To  dauncen  wel  coude  they  the  gyse; 

What  shulde  I  more  to  you  devyse  ?  790 

Ne  bede  I  never  thennes  go, 

Whyles  that  I  saw  hem  daunce  so. 

Upon  the  carole  wonder  faste 
I  gan  biholde;   til  atte  laste 
A  lady  gan  me  for  to  espye,  795 

And  she  was  cleped  Curtesye, 
The  worshipful,  the  debonaire; 
I  pray  god  ever  falle  hir  faire  ! 
Ful  curteisly  she  called  me, 
'  What  do  ye  there,  beau  sire  ? '   quod 
she,  800 

'Come  [neer],  and  if  it  lyke  yow 
To  dauncen,  daunceth  with  us  now.' 
And  I,  withoute  tarying, 
Wente  into  the  caroling. 
I  was  abasshed  never  a  del,  805 

But  it  me  lykede  right  wei 
That  Curtesye  me  cleped  so. 
And  bad.me  on  the  daunce  go. 
For  if  I  hadde  durst,  certeyn 
I  wolde  have  caroled  right  fayn,  810 

As  man  that  was  to  daunce  Ijlythe. 
Than  gan  I  loken  ofte  sythe 
The  shap,  the  bodies,  and  the  cheres, 
The  countenaunce  and  the  maneres 


815-919] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


Of  alle  the  folk  that  daunced  there,    815 
And  I  shal  telle  what  they  were. 

Ful  fair  was  Mirthe,  ful  long  and  high; 
A  fairer  man  I  never  sigh. 
As  round  as  appel  was  his  face, 
Ful  rody  and  whyt  in  every  place.        820 
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  shuldres  of  a  large  brede,  825 

And  snialish  in  the  girdilstede. 
He  semed  lyk  a  portreiture, 
So  nol)le  he  was  of  his  stature. 
So  fair,  so  loly,  and  so  fetys. 
With  limes  wrought  at  poynt  devys,     830 
Deliver,  smert,  and  of  gret  might  ; 
Ne  sawe  thou  never  man  so  light. 
Of  berde  unnethe  hadde  he  no-thing, 
P'or  it  was  in  the  firste  spring. 
Ful  yong  he  was,  and  mery  of  thought. 
And  in  samyt,  with  briddes  wrought,  836 
And  with  gold  beten  fetisly. 
His  body  was  clad  ful  richely. 
Wrought  was  his  robe  in  straunge  gyse. 
And  al  to-slitered  for  queyntyse  840 

In  many  a  place,  lowe  and  hye. 
And  shod  he  was  with  greet  maistrye, 
With  shoon  decoped,  and  with  laas. 
By  druerye,  and  by  solas. 
His  leef  a  rosen  chapelet  845 

Had  maad,  and  on  his  heed  it  set. 

And  wite  ye  who  was  his  leef? 
Dame  Gladnes  ther  was  him  so  leef, 
Thai  singeth  so  wel  with  glad  coragc. 
That  from  she  was  twelve  yeer  of  age. 
She  of  hir  love  graunt  him  made.         851 
Sir  Mirthe  hir  by  the  finger  hadde 
[In]  daunsing,  and  she  him  also; 
Gret  love  was  atwixe  hem  two. 
Bothe  were  they  faire  and  brighte  of  hewe ; 
She  semede  lyk  a  rose  newe  856 

Of  colour,  and  hir  flesh  so  tendre. 
That  with  a  brere  smale  and  slendre 
Men  mighte  it  cleve,  I  dar  wel  sayn. 
Hir  forheed,  frounceles  al  playn.  860 

Bente  were  hir  brovves  two, 
Hir  yen  greye,  and  gladde  also, 
'I'hat  laughede  ay  in  hir  semblaunt, 
First  or  the  mouth,  by  covenaunt. 
I  not  what  of  hir  nose  descryve;  865 

So  fair  hath  no  womman  alyve.  .  .  . 
Hir  lieer  was  yelowe,  and  cleer  shyning. 


I  wot  no  lady  so  lyking. 

Of  orfrays  fresh  was  hir  gerland; 

I,  whiche  seen  have  a  thousand,  870 

Saugh  never,  y-wis,  no  gerlond  yit, 

So  wel  [y]-wrought  of  silk  as  it. 

And  in  an  over-gilt  samyt 

Clad  she  was,  by  gret  delyt. 

Of  which  hir  leef  a  robe  werde,  875 

The  myrier  she  in  herte  ferde. 

And  next  hir  wente,  on  hir  other  syde, 
The  god  of  Love,  tiiat  can  devydc 
Love,  as  him  lyketh  it  [to]  be. 
But  he  can  cherles  daunten,  he,  880 

And  maken  folkes  pryde  fallen. 
And  he  can  wel  these  lordes  thrallen. 
And  ladies  putte  at  lowe  degree. 
Whan  he  may  hem  to  proude  see. 

This  God  of  Love  of  his  fasoun         885 
Was  lyk  no  knave,  ne  quistroun; 
His  beautee  gretly  was  to  pryse. 
But  of  his  robe  to  devyse 
I  drede  encombred  for  to  be. 
For  nought  y-clad  in  silk  was  he,         890 
But  al  in  floures  and  flourettes, 
Y-painted  al  with  amorettes; 
And  with  losenges  and  scochouns, 
With  briddes,  libardes,  and  lyouns. 
And  other  beestes  wrought  ful  wel.     895 
His  garnement  was  everydel 
Y-portreyed  and  y-wrought  with  floures, 
By  dyvers  medling  of  coloures. 
Floures  ther  were  of  many  gyse 
Y-set  by  compas  in  assyse ;  900 

Ther  lakked  no  flour,  to  my  dome, 
Ne  nought  so  muche  as  flour  of  brome, 
Ne  violete,  ne  eek  pervenke, 
Ne  flour  non,  that  man  can  on  thenke, 
And  many  a  rose-leef  ful  long  905 

Was  entermedled  ther-among  : 
And  also  on  his  heed  was  set 
Of  roses  rede  a  chapelet. 
But  nightingales,  a  ful  gret  route. 
That  flyen  over  his  heed  aboute,  910 

The  leves  felden  as  they  flyen; 
And  he  was  al  with  briddes  wryen, 
With  popiniay,  with  nightingale. 
With  chalaundre,  and  with  wodewale, 
With  finch,  with  lark,  and  with  archaun- 
gel.  915 

He  semede  as  he  were  an  aungel 
That  doun  were  comen  fro  hevene  clere. 

Love  hadde  with  him  a  bachelere, 
That  he  made  alvveyes  with  him  be; 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


[920-1025. 


SwETE-LoKiNG  cleped  was  he.  920 

This  bachelcre  stood  bihulding 

The  (launcc,  ami  in  his  lioiulc  holding 

Turke  bowcs  two  hadde  he. 

That  oon  of  hem  was  of  a  tree 

That  Ijereth  a  fruyl  of  savour  wikke;   925 

Ful  croked  was  that  foule  stikke, 

And  knotty  here  and  there  also, 

And  blak  as  bery,  or  any  slo. 

That  other  bowe  was  of  a  plante 

Withoute  wem,  I  dar  warante,  930 

Ful  even,  and  by  proporeioun 

Tretys  and  long,  of  good  fasoun. 

And  it  was  pcynted  wel  and  thwiten, 

And  over-al  diapred  and  writen 

With  lailies  and  with  bacheleres,  935 

Ful  lightsom  and  [ful]  glad  of  cheres. 

These  bowes  two  held  Swete-Loking, 

That  semed  lyk  no  gadeling. 

And  ten  brode  arowes  held  he  there, 

Of  which  five  in  his  right  hond  were.  940 

But  they  were  shaven  wel  and  dight, 

Nokked  and  fethered  a-right; 

And  al  they  were  with  gold  bigoon, 

And  strong  poynted  everichoon, 

And  sharpe  for  to  kerven  weel.  945 

But  iren  was  ther  noon  ne  steel; 

For  al  was  gold,  men  mighte  it  see, 

Out-take  the  fetheres  and  the  tree. 

The  swiftest  of  these  arowes  fyve 
Out  of  a  bowe  for  to  dryve,  950 

And  best  [y]-fethered  for  to  flee, 
And  fairest  eek,  v.'as  cleped  Beautee. 
That  other  arowe,  that  hurleth  lesse. 
Was  cleped,  as  I  trowe,  Simplesse. 
The  thridde  cleped  was  Fkaunchyse,  955 
That  fethered  was,  in  noble  wyse, 
With  valour  and  with  curtesye. 
The  fourthe  was  cleped  CoMPANYE, 
That  hevy  for  to  sheten  is; 
But  who-so  sheteth  right,  y-wis,  960 

May  therwith  doon  gret  harm  and  wo. 
The  (ifte  of  these,  and  laste  also, 
Faik-Semblaunt  men  that  arowe  calle 
The  leeste  grevous  of  hem  alle; 
Yit  can  it  make  a  ful  gret  wounde,      965 
But  he  may  hope  his  sores  sounde, 
That  hurt  is  with  that  arowe,  y-wis; 
His  wo  the  bet  bistowed  is. 
For  he  may  soner  have  gladnesse. 
His  langour  oughte  be  the  lesse.  970 

Fyve  arowes  were  of  other  gyse, 
That  been  ful  foule  to  devyse; 


For  shaft  and  ende,  sooth  to  telle, 
Were  al-so  blak  as  feend  in  helle. 

The  lirst  of  hem  is  called  I'kYDE;    975 
That  other  arowe  next  him  bisyde. 
It  was  [y]-cleped  ViLANYE; 
That  arowe  was  as  with  felonye 
Envenimed,  and  with  spitous  blame. 
The  thridde  of  hem  was  cleped  .Shame. 
The  fourthe,  Wanhope  cleped  is,        981 
The  fifte,  the  Nevve-Thought,  y-wis. 

These  arowes  that  I  speke  of  here. 
Were  alle  fyve  of  oon  manere. 
And  alle  were  they  resemblable.  985 

To  hem  was  wel  sitting  and  able 
The  foule  croked  bowe  hidous. 
That  knotty  was,  and  al  roynous. 
That  bowe  semede  wel  to  shete 
These  arowes  fyve,  that  been  unmete,  990 
Contrarie  to  that  other  fyve. 
But  though  I  telle  not  as  blyve 
Of  hir  power,  ne  of  hir  might, 
Her-after  shal  I  tellen  right 
The  sothe,  and  eek  signihaunce,  995 

As  fer  as  I  have  remembraunce : 
Al  shal  be  seid,  I  undertake, 
Er  of  this  boke  an  ende  I  make. 

Now  come  I  to  my  tale  ageyn. 
But  alderfirst,  I  wol  you  seyn  1000 

The  fasoun  and  the  countenaunces 
Of  al  the  folk  that  on  the  daunce  is. 
The  God  of  Love,  lolyf  and  light, 
Ladde  on  his  honde  a  lady  bright, 
Of  high  prys,  and  of  greet  degree.     1005 
This  lady  called  was  Beautee, 
[As  was]  an  arowe,  of  which  I  tolde. 
Ful  wel  [y] -the wed  was  she  holde; 
Ne  she  was  derk  ne  broun,  but  bright. 
And  cleer  as  [is]  the  mone-light,       loio 
Ageyn  whom  alle  the  sterres  semen 
But  smale  candels,  as  we  demen. 
Hir  flesh  was  tendre  as  dewe  of  flour, 
Hir  chere  was  simple  as  byrde  in  hour; 
As  whyt  as  lilie  or  rose  in  rys  1015 

Flir  face,  gentil  and  tretys. 
Fetys  she  was,  and  smal  to  see; 
No  windred  browes  hadde  she, 
Ne  popped  hir,  for  it  neded  nought 
To  windre  hir,  or  to  peynte  hir  ought.  1020 
Hir  tresses  yelowe  and  longe  straughten. 
Unto  hir  heles  doun  they  raughten : 
Hir  nose,  hir  mouth,  and  eye  and  choke 
Wel  wrought,  and  al  the  remenaunt  eke. 
A  ful  gret  savour  and  a  swote  1025 


I026-I130.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


Me  thinketh  in  myn  hertc  rote, 

As  helpe  me  god,  whan  I  renienibre 

Of  the  fasoun  of  every  nienibre  ! 

In  world  is  noon  so  fair  a  wij);ht; 

For  yon^  she  was,  and  heweil  lirij^ht,  1030 

[Wys],  })lesaunt,  and  fetys  withalle, 

Gente,  and  in  hir  miildel  snialle. 

Bisyde  Beaute  yede  RiciiKssE, 
An  high  lady  of  greet  noblesse. 
And  greet  of  prys  in  every  place.       1035 
But  who-so  durste  to  hir  trespace, 
Or  til  hir  folk,  in  vvorde  or  dede, 
He  were  ful  harily,  out  of  drede; 
For  bothe  she  helpe  and  hindre  may : 
And  that  is  nought  of  yisterday  1040 

That  riche  folk  have  ful  gret  might 
To  helpe,  and  eek  to  greve  a  wight. 
The  beste  and  grettest  of  valour 
Diden  Richesse  ful  gret  honour, 
And  besy  weren  hir  to  serve;  1045 

For  that  they  wolde  hir  love  deserve, 
They  cleped  hir '  Lady,'  grete  and  smalle; 
This  wyde  world  hir  dredeth  alle; 
This  world  is  al  in  hir  daungere. 
Hir  court  hath  many  a  losengere,       1050 
And  many  a  traytour  envious. 
That  been  ful  besy  and  curious 
For  to  dispreisen,  and  to  blame 
That  best  deserven  love  and  name. 
Bifore  the  folk,  hem  to  bigylen,  1055 

These     losengeres     hem     preyse,     and 

smylen, 
And  thus  the  world  with  word  anoynten; 
But  afterward  they  [prikke]  and  poynten 
The  folk  right  to  the  bare  boon, 
Bihinde  her  bak  whan  they  ben  goon,  1060 
And  foule  abate  the  folkes  prys. 
Ful  many  a  worthy  man  and  wys. 
An  hundred,  have  [they]  don  to  dye. 
These  losengeres,  through  flaterye; 
And  maketh  folk  ful  straunge  be,       1065 
Ther-as  hem  oughte  be  prive. 
Wei  yvel  mote  they  thryve  and  thee, 
And  yvel  aryved  mote  they  be. 
These  losengeres,  ful  of  envye  ! 
No  good  man  loveth  hir  companye.  1070 

Richesse  a  robe  of  purpre  on  hadde, 
Ne  trowe  not  that  I  lye  or  madde; 
For  in  this  world  is  noon  it  liche, 
Ne  by  a  thousand  deel  so  riche, 
Nc  noon  so  fair;   for  it  ful  vvel  1075 

With  orfrays  leyd  was  everydel. 
And  portrayed  in  the  ribaninges 


Of  dukes  stories,  and  o(  kinges. 

And  with  a  bend  of  gold  tasseled, 

And  knoppes  fyne  of  gold  ameled.     1080 

Aboute  hir  nekke  of  gentil  entaile 

Was  shet  the  riche  chevesaile. 

In  which  ther  was  ful  gret  plentee 

Of  stones  clere  and  bright  to  see. 

Rychesse  a  girdel  hadde  upon,       1085 
The  bokel  of  it  was  of  a  stoon 
Of  vertu  greet,  and  mochel  of  might; 
For  who-so  bar  the  stoon  so  bright, 
Of  venim  [thurte]  him  no-thing  doute. 
While  he  the  stoon  hadde  him  alioute. 
That  stoon  was  greetly  for  to  love,     1091 
And  til  a  riche  mannes  bihove 
Worth  al  the  gold  in  Rome  and  Fryse. 
The  mourdant,  wrought  in  noble  wyse, 
Was  of  a  stoon  ful  precious,  I095 

That  was  so  fyn  and  vertuous. 
That  hool  a  man  it  coude  make 
Of  palasye,  and  of  tooth-ake. 
And  yit  the  stoon  hadde  suche  a  grace. 
That  he  was  siker  in  every  place,       iioo 
Al  thilke  day,  not  blind  to  been, 
That  fasting  mighte  that  stoon  seen. 
The  barres  were  of  gold  ful  fyne. 
Upon  a  tissu  of  satyne, 
Ful  hevy,  greet,  and  no-thing  light,  1 105 
In  everich  was  a  besaunt-wight. 

Upon  the  tresses  of  Richesse 
Was  set  a  cercle,  for  noblesse. 
Of  brend  gold,  that  ful  lighte  shoon  ; 
So  fair,  trowe  I,  was  never  noon.       mo 
But  he  were  cunning,  for  the  nones. 
That  coude  devysen  alle  the  stones 
That  in  that  cercle  shewen  clere; 
It  is  a  wonder  thing  to  here. 
For  no  man  coude  preyse  or  gesse     11 15 
Of  hem  the  valewe  or  richesse. 
Rubyes  there  were,  saphyres,  iagounces, 
And  emeraudes,  more  than  two  ounces. 
But  al  bifore,  ful  sotilly, 
A  fyn  carboucle  set  saugh  I.  11 20 

The  stoon  so  cleer  was  and  so  bright, 
That,  al-so  sone  as  it  was  night, 
Men  mighte  seen  to  go,  for  nede, 
A  myle  or  two,  in  lengthe  and  brede. 
Swich  light  [tho]  sprang  out  of  the  stoon, 
That  Richesse  wonder  brighte  shoon, 
Bothe  hir  heed,  and  al  hir  face,  1 1  27 

And  eke  aboute  hir  al  the  place. 

Dame  Richesse  on  hir  bond  gan  lede 
A  yong  man  ful  of  semelihede,  1130 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


[1131-1235. 


That  she  best  loved  of  any  thing; 

His  lust  was  inuche  in  housholding. 

In  clothing  was  he  ful  fetys, 

And  lovede  wel  have  hors  of  prys. 

He  wende  to  have  reproved  be  I'SS 

Of  thefte  or  niordre,  if  that  he 

Hadde  in  his  stable  an  hakeney. 

And  therfore  he  desyred  ay 

To  been  aqueynted  with  Richesse ; 

For  al  his  purpos,  as  I  gesse,  1 140 

Was  for  to  make  greet  dispense, 

Withoute  werning  or  defence. 

And  Richesse  mighte  it  well  sustene, 

And  hir  dispenses  wel  mayntene, 

And  him  alwey  swich  plentee  sende   1 145 

Of  gold  and  silver  for  to  spende 

Withoute  lakking  or  daungere, 

As  it  were  poured  in  a  garnere. 

And  after  on  the  daunce  wente 
Largesse,  that  sette  al  hir  entente    1150 
For  to  be  honourable  and  free; 
Of  Alexandres  kin  was  she; 
Hir  moste  loye  was,  y-wis, 
Whan  that  she  yaf,  and  seide  '  have  this.' 
Not  Avarice,  the  foule  caytyf,  1 155 

Was  half  to  grype  so  ententyf, 
As  Largesse  is  to  yeve  and  spende. 
And  god  y-nough  alwey  hir  sende. 
So  that  the  more  she  yaf  awey, 
The  more,  y-wis,  she  hadde  alwey.     11 60 
Gret  loos  hath  Largesse,  and  gret  prys  ; 
For  bothe  wys  folk  and  unwys 
Were  hoolly  to  hir  baundon  brought. 
So  wel  with  yiftes  hath  she  wrought. 
And  if  she  hadde  an  enemy,  1 165 

I  trowe,  that  she  coude  craftily 
Make  him  ful  sone  hir  freend  to  be, 
So  large  of  yift  and  free  was  she; 
Therfore  she  stood  in  love  and  grace 
Of  riche  and  povre  in  every  place.     1170 
A  ful  gret  fool  is  he,  y-wis. 
That  bothe  riche  and  nigard  is. 
A  lord  may  have  no  maner  vice 
That  greveth  more  than  avarice. 
For  nigard  never  with  strengthe  of  hond 
May  winne  him  greet  lordship  or  lond. 
For  freendes  al  to  fewe  hath  he  1177 

To  doon  his  wil  perfourmed  be. 
And  who-so  wol  have  freendes  here, 
He  may  not  holde  his  tresour  dere.  1180 
For  by  ensample  I  telle  this. 
Right  as  an  adamaunt,  y-wis. 
Can  drawen  to  him  sotilly 


The  yren,  that  is  leyd  therby, 

So  draweth  folkes  hertes,  y-wis,  1185 

Silver  and  gold  that  yeven  is. 

Largesse  hadde  on  a  robe  fresshe 
Of  riche  purpur  Sarsinesshe. 
Wel  fourmed  was  hir  face  and  clere, 
And  opened  had  she  hir  coltre;         II90 
For  she  right  there  hadde  in  present 
Unto  a  lady  maad  present 
Of  a  gold  broche,  ful  wel  wrought. 
And  certes,  it  missat  hir  nought; 
For  through  hir  smokke,  wrought  with  silk, 
The  flesh  was  seen,  as  whyt  as  milk.  1196 
Largesse,  that  worthy  was  and  wys, 
Held  by  the  honde  a  knight  of  prys, 
Was  sib  to  Arthour  of  Bretaigne. 
And  that  was  he  that  bar  the  enseigne 
Of  worship,  and  the  gonfanoun.  1201 

And  yit  he  is  of  swich  renoun, 
That  men  of  him  seye  faire  thinges 
Bifore  barouns,  erles,  and  kinges. 
This  knight  was  comen  al  newely      1205 
Fro  tourneyinge  faste  by; 
Ther  hadde  he  doon  gret  chivalrye 
Through  his  vertu  and  his  maistrye; 
And  for  the  love  of  his  lemman 
[Had]  cast  doun  many  a  doughty  man. 

And  next  him  daunced  dame  Fkaun- 

CHYSE,  1211 

Arrayed  in  ful  noble  gyse. 

She  was  not  broun  ne  dun  of  hewe. 

But  whyt  as  snowe  y-fallen  newe. 

Hir  nose  was  wrought  at  poynt  devys, 

For  it  was  gentil  and  tretys;  1216 

With  eyen  gladde,  and  browes  bente; 

Hir  heer  doun  to  hir  heles  wente. 

And  she  was  simple  as  dowve  on  tree, 

Ful  debonaire  of  herte  was  she.  1220 

She  durste  never  seyn  ne  do 

But  that  [thing]  that  hir  longed  to. 

And  if  a  man  were  in  distresse. 

And  for  hir  love  in  hevinesse, 

Hir  herte  wolde  have  ful  greet  pitee,  1 225 

She  was  so  amiable  and  free. 

For  were  a  man  for  hir  bistad, 

She  wolde  ben  right  sore  adrad 

That  she  dide  over  greet  outrage, 

But  she  him  holpe  his  harm  to  aswage; 

Hir  thoughte  it  elles  a  vilanye.  1231 

And  she  hadde  on  a  sukkenye. 

That  not  of  hempen  herdes  was  ; 

So  fair  was  noon  in  alle  Arras. 

Lord,  it  was  rideled  fetysly  !  1 235 


1236-1341-] 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


»3 


Ther  nas  nat  00  poynt,  trewely, 

That  it  nas  in  his  rij^ht  assyse. 

Ful  wel  y-clotheil  was  Fraunchysc  ; 

For  ther  is  no  cloth  sitteth  bet 

On  damiselle,  than  doth  roket.  1 240 

A  wonnnan  wel  more  fetys  is 

In  roket  than  in  cote,  y-wis. 

The  whyte  roket,  ri<leled  faire, 

Bitokcned,  that  ful  del)onaire 

And  swete  was  she  that  it  here.  1245 

By  hir  daunced  a  liachelcre  ; 
I  can  not  telle  you  what  he  highte, 
But  fair  he  was,  and  of  good  highte, 
Al  hadde  he  be,  I  sey  no  more, 
The  lordes  sone  of  Windesore.  1 250 

And  next  that  daunced  Cuktksye, 
That  preised  was  of  lowe  and  hye, 
F^or  neither  proud  ne  fool  was  she. 
She  for  to  daunce  called  me, 
(I  pray  god  yeve  hir  right  good  grace  !) 
Whan  I  com  first  into  the  place.         1256 
She  was  not  nyce,  ne  outrageous, 
But  wys  and  w^ar,  and  vertuous. 
Of  faire  speche,  and  faire  answere; 
Was  never  wight  misseid  of  here;      l25o 
She  bar  no  rancour  to  no  wight. 
Cleer  broun  she  was,  and  therto  bright 
Of  face,  of  body  avenaunt; 
I  wot  no  lady  so  plesaunt. 
She  were  worthy  for  to  bene  1265 

An  emperesse  or  crouned  quene. 

And  by  hir  wente  a  knight  dauncing 
That  worthy  was  and  wel  speking, 
And  ful  wel  coude  he  doon  honour. 
The  knight  was  fair  and  stif  in  stour,  1270 
And  in  armure  a  semely  man. 
And  wel  biloved  of  his  lemman. 

Fair  Ydelnesse  than  saugh  I, 
That  alwey  was  me  faste  by. 
Of  hir  have  I,  withouten  fayle,  1 275 

Told  yow  the  shap  and  apparayle 
For  (as  I  seide)  lo,  that  was  she 
That  dide  me  so  greet  bountee, 
That  she  the  gate  of  the  gardin 
Undide,  and  leet  me  passen  in.  1 280 

And  after  daunced,  as  I  gesse, 
[Yoithe],  fultild  of  lustinesse. 
That  nas  not  yit  twelve  yeer  of  age. 
With  herte  wilde,  and  thought  volage; 
Nyce  she  was,  but  she  ne  mente         1285 
Noon  harm  ne  slight  m  hir  entente, 
But  only  lust  and  lolitee. 
For  yonge  folk,  wel  witen  ye, 


Have  litel  thought  but  on  hir  play. 

Hir  lemman  was  bisyde  alway,  1290 

In  swich  a  gyse,  that  he  hir  kiste 

At  alle  tymes  that  him  liste. 

That  al  the  daunce  mighte  it  see; 

They  make  no  force  of  j^rivetee; 

For  who  spak  of  hem  yvel  or  wel,      1295 

They  were  ashamed  never-a-del. 

But  men  mighte  seen  hem  kisse  there, 

As  it  two  yonge  douves  were. 

For  yonge  was  thilke  bachelere, 

Of  beaute  wot  I  noon  his  pere;  1 300 

And  he  was  right  of  swich  an  age 

As  Youthe  his  leef,  and  swich  corage. 

The  lusty  folk  thus  daunced  there, 
And  also  other  that  with  hem  were, 
Thatii£ren  alle  of  hir  meynee;  ^i9S 

F"ul(nencie>folk,  and  wys,  and  free,     ^ylSuiS.'^ 
AndToTk  of  fair  port,  trewely,  '  ^rr-^C. 

Ther  weren  alle  comunly. 

Whan  I  hadde  seen  the  countenaunces 
Of  hem  that  ladden  thus  these  daunces. 
Than  hadde  I  wil  to  goon  and  see     131 1 
The  gardin  that  so  lyked  me. 
And  loken  on  these  faire  loreres, 
On  pyn-trees,  cedres,  and  oliveres. 
The  daunces  than  y-ended  were;        1315 
For  many  of  hem  that  daunced  there 
Were  with  hir  loves  went  awey 
Under  the  trees  to  have  hir  pley. 

A,  lord  !   they  lived  lustily  !  < 

A  gret  fool  were  he,  sikerly,^^-i'c/yi320 
That  nolde,  his  thankes,  swich  lyf  lede  ! 
For  this  dar  I  seyn,  out  of  drede. 
That  who-so  mighte  so  wel  fare, 
For  better  lyf  [thurte]  him  not  care; 
For  ther  nis  so  good  paradys  132$ 

As  have  a  love  at  his  devys. 

Out  of  that  place  wente  I  tho, 
And  in  that  gardin  gan  I  go, 
Pleying  along  ful  merily. 
The  God  of  Love  ful  hastely  1330 

Unto  him  Swete-Loking  clepte, 
No  lenger  wolde  he  that  he  kepte 
His  bowe  of  golde,  that  shoon  so  bright. 
He  [bad]  him  [bende  it]  anon-right; 
And  he  ful  sone  [it]sette  on  ende,    1335 
And  at  a  braid  he  gan  it  bende, 
And  took  him  of  his  arovves  fyve, 
F"ul  sharpe  and  redy  for  to  dryve. 
Now  god  that  sit  in  magestee 
Fro  deedly  woundes  kepe  me,        oe. 
If  so  be  that  he  [wol]  me  shete*, 


u 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  THE  ROSE.     (A.) 


[1342-1447- 


I'ur  if  1  with  his  arovve  mete, 
It  [wol  me  fjreven]  sore,  y-wis! 
Hut  I,  that  no-tiiinj4  wistc  of  this, 
Wontc  up  and  douu  ful  many  a  way. 
And  he  me  folvveii  faste  alvvey;  1346 

Hut  no-wher  wolde  I  rcstc  me, 
Til  I  hadde  al  the  [yerde  in]  be. 

The  j^ardin  was,  by  mesuring, 
Right  even  and  squar  in  compassing; 
It  was  as  loiii];  as  it  was  large.  '351 

Of  fruyt  hadde  every  tree  his  charge, 
Hut  it  were  any  hidous  tree 
Of  which  ther  were  two  or  three. 
Ther  were,  and  that  wot  I  ful  wel,    1355 
Of  pomgarnettes  a  ful  gret  del; 
That  is  a  fruyt  ful  wel  to  lyke, 

Namely  to  folk  whan  they  ben  syke.        ^ ^ 

And  trees  ther  were,  greet  foisounMbu'i<Ac|i{iBut  I  ne  can  the  nombre  telle 


That  baren  notes  in  hir  sesoun,  1360 

Such  as  men  notemigges  calle. 

That  swote  of  savour  been  vvithalle. 

And  alemandres  greet  plentee, 

Figes,  and  many  a  date-tree 

Ther  weren,  if  men  hadde  nede,        1365 

Through  the  gardin  in  length  and  brede. 

Ther  was  eek  wexing  many  a  spyce. 

As  clovv-gelofre,  and  licoryce, 

Ciingere,  and  greyn  de  paradys, 

Canelle,  and  setewale  of  prys,  1370 

And  many  a  spyce  delitable, 

To  eten  whan  men  ryse  fro  table. 

And  many  hoomly  trees  ther  were. 

That  peches,  coynes,  and  apples  here, 

Medlers,  ploumes,  peres,  chesteynes, 

Cheryse,  of  whiche  many  on  fayn  is,  1376 

Notes,  aleys,  and  bolas,  'f-^ 

That  for  to  seen  it  was  solas;" 

With  many  high  lorer  and  £yn 

Was  renged  clene  al  that  gardyn;      1380 

With  cipres,  and  with  oliveres, 

Of  which  that  nigh  no  plente  here  is. 

Ther  were  elmes  grete  and  stronge. 

Maples,  ashe,  ook,  asp,  planes  longe, 

Fyn  ew,  popler,  and  lindes  faire,        1385 

And  othere  trees  ful  many  a  payre. 

What  sholde  I  telle  you  more  of  it? 
Ther  were  so  many  trees  yit. 
That  I  sholde  al  encombred  be 
Er  I  had  rekened  every  tree.  1390 

These  trees  were  set,  that  I  devyse, 
P  '^     '"rom  another,  in  assyse, 
„.   ,   y  'ome  or  sixe,  I  trowe  so. 


And  for  to  kepe  out  wel  the  sonne,  1395 
The  croppes  were  so  thikke  y-ronne. 
And  every  braunch  in  other  knet,  JljuI 
And  ful  of  grene  leves  set. 
That  Sonne  mighte  noon  descende. 
Lest  [it]  the  tendre  grasses  shende.'^fvjloo 
Ther  mighte  men  does  and  roes  y-see, 
And  of  squirels  ful  greet  plentee, 
F'rom  bough  to  bough  alwey  leping. 
Cpjii|s,ther  were  also  playing, 
inat xomen  out  of  hir  c\a.peres\U^/'r^O^^ 
Of  sondry  colours  and  maneres. 
And  maden  many  a  turneying 
Upon  the  fresshe  gras  springing. 
In  places  saw  I  wf.lles  there, 
In  whiche  ther  no  frogges  were,         I410 
And  faire  in  shad  we  was  every  welle; 


Of  stremes  smale,  that  by  devys 
Mirthe  had  don  come  through  condys, 
Of  which  the  water,  in  renning,  1415 

Gan  make  a  noyse  ful  lyking. 

About  the  brinkes  of  thise  welles, 
And  by  the  stremes  over-al  elles 
Sprang  up  the  gras,  as  thikke  y-set 
And  softe  as  any  veluet,  1420 

On  which  men  mighte  his  lemman  leye, 
As  on  a  fetherbed,  to  pleye. 
For  therthe  was  ful  softe  and  swete. 
Through  moisture  of  the  welle  vvete 
Sprang  up  the  sote  grene  gras,  1425 

As  fair,  as  thikke,  as  mister  was. 
But  muche  amended  it  the  place. 
That  therthe  was  of  swich  a  grace 
That  it  of  floures  had  plente, 
That  both  in  somer  and  winter  be.     I430 

Ther  sprang  the  violete  al  newe, 
And  fresshe  pervinke,  riche  of  hewe, 
And  floures  yelowe,  whyte,  and  rede; 
Swich  plentee  grew  ther  never  in  mede. 
Ful  gay  was  al  the  ground,  and  queynt. 
And  poudred,  as  men  had  it  peynt,   1436 
With  many  a  fresh  and  sondry  flour. 
That  casten  up  ful  good  savour. 

I  wol  not  longe  holde  you  in  fable 
Of  al  this  gardin  delitable.  '440 

I  moot  my  tonge  stinten  nede. 
For  I  ne  may,  withouten  drede, 
Naught  tellen  you  the  beautee  al, 
Ne  half  the  bountee  therewithal. 

I  wente  on  right  honde  and  on  left 
Aboute  the  place;    it  was  not  left,      1446 
Til  I  hadde  al  the  [yerde  in]  been, 


A" 


^.  ^HE   ROMAUNT   OF 


144S-1549.] 

In  the  estres  that  men  niighte  seen. 
And  thus  whyle  I  wente  in  my  pley, 
The  (loil  t)f  Love  me  folowed  ay,       '459  » 
Right  as  an  hunter  can  abyde      -r>(J\     j^X 
The  l)este,  til  he  seeth  his  ty<Je"'^^^- 
To  shete,  ^t  goodju^STto  the  dere, 
Whan  that^iini  nedeth  go  no  nete. 

And  so  hehl,  I  rested  me  1455 

I5esyde  a  welle,  under  a  tree, 
Which    tree    in    Fraunce    men    calle    a 

jn'n. 
Hut,  sith  the  tyme  of  king  I'cpyn, 
Ne  grew  ther  tree  in  mannes  sighte 
So  fair,  ne  so  wel  woxe  in  highte;      1460 
In  al  that  yerde  so  liigh  was  noon. 
And  springing  in  a  marble-stoon 
Had  nature  set,  the  sothe  to  telle, 
Under  that  pyn-tree  a  welle. 
And  on  the  border,  al  withoute,  1465 

Was  writen,  in  the  stone  aboute, 
Lettres  siual,e,  that  seyilen  thus, 
'Here  siyiTthe  faire  Narcisus.' 

Narcisus  was  a  bachelere. 
That  Love  had  caught  in  his  daungere, 
And  in  his  net  gan  him  so  streyne,     1471 
And  dide  him  so  to  wepe  and  jileyne, 
That  nede  him  muste  his  lyf  forgo. 
For  a  fair  lady,  hight  Echo, 
Him  loved  over  any  creature,  1475 

And  gan  for  him  swich  peyne  endure. 
That  on  a  tyme  she  him  tolde, 
That,  if  he  hir  loven  nolde, 
That  hir  behoved  nedes  dye, 
Ther  lay  non  other  remedye.  14S0 

But  natheles,  for  his  beautee, 
So  iiers  and  daungerous  was  he. 
That  he  nolde  graunten  hir  asking. 
For  weping,  ne  for  fair  praying. 
And  whan  she  herde  him  werne  hir  so. 
She  hadde  in  herte  so  gret  wo,  14S6 

And  took  it  in  so  gret  dispyt. 
That  she,  withoute  more  respyt. 
Was  deed  anoon.      But,  er  she  deyde, 
Ful  pitously  to  god  she  preyde,  1490 

That  proude-herted  Narcisus, 
That  was  in  love  so  daungerous, 
IMighte  on  a  day  ben  hampred  so 
For  love,  and  been  so  hoot  for  wo. 
That  never  he  mighte  loye  atteyne;  1495 
Than  shulde  he  fele  in  every  veyne 
What  sorowe  trewe  lovers  maken, 
That  been  so  vilavnslv  forsaken. 

This  prayer  was  but  resonable, 


THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


^5 


Therfor  god  held  it  ferine  and  stal)le  : 
l*'or  Narcisus,  shortly  to  telle,  1501 

By  aventure  com  to  that  welle 
To  reste  him  in  that  shadowing 
A  day,  whan  he  com  fro  hunting. 
This  Narcisus  had  suffred  paynes       1505 
For  renning  alday  in  the  playnes, 
And  was  for  thurst  in  greet  distrcsse  a 

Of  hete,  and  of  his  werinesse  iv?^«u>.  t""2«^U! 

That  hadile  his  breeth  almost  binomen.      ^^^AJiOi 
Whan  he  was  to  that  welle  y-comen,  '  { 

That     shadwed     was     with     braunches 
grene,  1511 

He  thoughte  of  thilke  water  shene 
To  drinke  and  fresshe  him  wel  withalle; 
And  doun  on  knees  he  gan  to  falle, 
And    forth    his    heed    and   nekke   out- 
straughte  'S'S 

To  drinken  of  that  welle  a  draughte. 
And  in  the  water  anoon  was  sene 
His  nose,  his  mouth,  his  yen  shene, 
And  he  ther-of  was  al  abasshed;  . 

His  owne  shadowe  had  him  bitrasshed.  \^  ^^'^A/UX 
For  wel  wende  he  the  forme  see         152 1  l\ 

Of  a  child  of  greet  beautee. 
Wel  couthe  Love  him  wreke  the 
Of  daunger  and  of  pryde  also. 
That  Narcisus  somtyme  him  bere.      1525 
He  quitte  him  wel  his  guerdon  there; 
For  he  so  musede  in  the  welle. 
That,  shortly  al  the  sothe  to  telle, 
He  lovede  his  owne  shadowe  so, 
That  atte  laste  he  starf  for  wo.  1530 

For  whan  he  saugh  that  he  his  wille 
Mighte  in  no  maner  wey  fultillc. 
And  that  he  was  so  faste  caught 
That  he  him  couthe  comfort  naught. 
He  loste  his  wit  right  in  that  place,  1535 
And  deyde  within  a  liteJ  space. 
And  thus  his  ■<vaH^(jii'n''he  took 
For  the  lady  that  he  forsook. 

LadyeSj  I  preye  ensample  takcth. 
Ye  that  a:\'tehyS'your  love  mistaketh  :  1540 
For  if  hir  deeth  be  yow  to  wyte, 
God  can  ful  wel  your  whyle  quyte. 

Whan    that    this    lettre,    of  whiche    I 
telle. 
Hail  taught  me  that  it  was  the  welle 
Of  Narcisus  in  his  beautee,  '545 

I  gan  anoon  withdrawe  me, 
Whan  it  fel  in  my  remembraunce. 
That  him  l)itidde  swich  mischaunce. 
But  at  the  laste  than  thoughte  I, 


i6 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (A.) 


[  1 550-1654. 


That  scathelcs,  ful  sikerly,  '55° 

I  niighte  unto  The  Wki.le  go. 

Whereof  shulde  I  ahasshei)  so? 

Unto  the  vvelle  than  wente  I  me, 

And  doun  I  louted  for  to  see 

The  clere  water  in  the  stoon,  '555 

And  eek  the  gravel,  which  that  shoon 

Down  in  the  botme,  as  silver  fyn; 

For  of  the  vvelle,  this  is  the  fyn. 

In  world  is  noon  so  cleer  of  hewe. 

The  water  is  ever  fresh  and  newe       1560 

That  welmeth  up  with  wawes  brighte 

The  mountance  of  two  finger  highte. 

Abouten  it  is  gras  springing, 

For  moiste  so  thikke  and  wel  lyking. 

That  it  ne  may  in  winter  dye,  1565 

No  more  than  may  the  see  be  drye. 

Down  at  the  botme  set  saw  I 
Two  cristal  stones  craftely 
In  thilke  fresshe  and  faire  welle. 
But  o  thing  soothly  dar  I  telle,  1570 

That  ye  wol  holde  a  greet  mervayle 
Whan  it  is  told,  withouten  fayle. 
For  whan  the  sonne,  cleer  in  sighte, 
Cast  in  that  welle  his  bemes  brighte, 
And  that  the  heet  descended  is,  1575 
Than  taketh  the  cristal  stoon,  y-wis, 
Agayn  the  sonne  an  hundred  hewes, 
Blewe,  yelowe,  and  rede,  that  fresh  and 

newe  is. 
Yit  hath  the  merveilous  cristal  '579 

Swich  strengthe,  that  the  place  overal, 
Bothe  fowl  and  tree,  and  leves  grene. 
And  al  the  yerd  in  it  is  sene. 
And  for  to  doon  you  understonde, 
To  make  ensample  wol  I  fonde; 
Right  as  a  mirour  openly  1585 

Sheweth  al  thing  that  stant  therby, 
As  wel  the  colour  as  the  figure, 
Withouten  any  coverture; 
Right  so  the  cristal  stoon,  shyning, 
Withouten  any  disceyving,  1590 

The  estres  of  the  yerde  accuseth 
To  him  that  in  the  water  museth; 
For  ever,  in  which  half  that  he  be. 
He  may  wel  half  the  gardin  see; 
And  if  he  turne,  he  may  right  wel      1595 
Seen  the  remenaunt  every  del. 
For  ther  is  noon  so  litel  thing 
So  hid,  ne  closed  with  shitting, 
That  it  ne  is  sene,  as  though  it  were 
Peynted  in  the  cristal  there.  1600 

This  is  the  mirour  perilous. 


In  which  the  proude  Narcisus 
Saw  al  his  face  fair  and  bright. 
That  made  him  sith  to  lye  upright. 
For  who-so  loke  in  that  mirour,  1605 

Ther  may  no-thing  ben  his  socour 
That  he  ne  shal  ther  seen  som  thing 
That  shal  him  lede  into  [loving]. 
Full  many  a  worthy  man  hath  it 
Y-blent;   for  folk  of  grettest  wit  1610 

Ben  sone  caught  here  and  awayted; 
Withouten  respyt  been  they  bayted. 
Heer  comth  to  folk  of-newe  rage, 
Heer  chaungeth  many  wight  corage; 
Heer  lyth  no  reed  ne  wit  therto;        1615 
For  Venus  sone,  daun  Cupido, 
Hath  sovven  there  of  love  the  seed. 
That  help  me  lyth  ther  noon,  ne  reed, 
So  cercleth  it  the  welle  aboute. 
His  ginnes  hath  he  set  vvithoute         1620 
Right  for  to  cacche  in  his  panteres 

These  damoysels  and  bacheleres. 
Love  wil  noon  other  bridde  cacche. 

Though  he  sette  either  net  or  lacche. 

And  for  the  seed  that  heer  was  sowen, 

This  welle  is  cleped,  as  wel  is  knowen. 

The  Welle  of  Love,  of  verray  right. 

Of  which  ther  hath  ful  many  a  wight 

Spoke  in  bokes  dyversely. 

But  they  shuUe  never  so  verily  1630 

Descripcioun  of  the  welle  here, 

Ne  eek  the  sothe  of  this  matere. 

As  ye  shulle,  whan  I  have  undo 

The  craft  that  hir  bilongeth  to. 

Alway  me  lyked  for  to  d welle,        1635 

To  seen  the  cristal  in  the  welle, 

That  shewed  me  ful  openly 

A  thousand  thinges  faste  by. 

But  I  may  saye,  in  sory  houre      -  |    A. 

Stooj;!  Ijo  loicen  or  to  poure;    ^J'^40 

For'^flh^h  [have]  I  sore  syked,     1     .^^^ 

That  mirour  hath  me  now  entryked. 

But  hadde  I  first  knowen  in  my  wit 

The  vertue  and  [the]  strengthe  of  it, 

I  nolde  not  have  mused  there;  1645 

Me  hadde  bet  ben  elles-where; 

For  in  the  snare  I  fel  anoon, 

That  hath  bitraisshed  many  oon. 
In  thilke  mirour  saw  I  tho. 

Among  a  thousand  thinges  mo,  1650 

A  ROSER  charged  ful  of  roses. 

That  with  an  hegge  aboute  enclos  is. 

Tho  had  I  swich  lust  and  envye, 

That,  for  Parys  ne  for  Pavye, 


I6SS-I7S5-] 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


17 


Nolilc  I  have  left  to  goon  and  see      1655 
Ther  giettest  licpe  of  roses  be. 
Whau  I  was  with  this  rage  hont, 
That    cauglit    hath    many    a    man    and 

shent, 
Toward  the  roser  gan  I  go. 
And  whan  I  was  not  fer  therfro,         1 660 
The  savour  of  the  roses  svvote 
Me  smoot  right  to  the  herte  rote, 
As  I  hadde  al  enibawmed  [be.] 
And  if  I  ne  hathle  endouted  me 
To  have  ben  liated  or  assailed,  1665 

My  Ihankes,  wolde  I  not  have  failed 
To  jiulle  a  rose  of  al  that  route 
To  beren  in  myn  honde  aboute, 
And  smellen  to  it  wher  I  wente; 
But  ever  I  dredde  me  to  rcpentc,       1670 
And  lest  it  greved  or  for-thoughte 
The  lord  that  thilke  gardyn  wroughte. 
Of  roses  were  ther  gret  woon, 
So  faire  \vjexe  never  in  roon. 
Of  kno^es  clos,  some  saw  I  there,   1675 
And  some  wel  beter  woxen  were;  „, 
And  some  ther  been  of  other  moysom 
That  drowe  nigh  to  hir  sesoun, 
And  spedde  hem  faste  for  to  sprede; 
I  love  wel  swiche  roses  rede;  16S0 

For  brode  roses,  and  open  also, 
Ben  passed  in  a  day  or  two; 
But  knoppes  wilen  fresshe  be 
Two  dayes  atte  leest,  or  three. 
The  knoppes  gretly  lyked  me,  1685 

For  fairer  may  ther  no  man  see. 
Who-so  mighte  haven  oon  of  alle, 
It  oughte  him  been  ful  leef  withalle. 
Mighte  I  [a]  gerlond  of  hem  geten, 
For  no  richesse  I  wolde  it  leten.         1690 

Among  THE  KNOPPES  1  chees  oon 
So  fair,  that  of  the  remenaunt  noon 
Ne  preyse  I  half  so  wel  as  it, 
Whan  I  avyse  it  in  my  wit. 
For  it  so  wel  was  enlumyned  1695 

With  colour  reed,  as  wel  [y]-fyned 
As  nature  couthe  it  make  faire. 
And  it  had  leves  wel  foure  paire. 
That   Kinde  had  set  through  his  know- 
ing 
Aboute  the  rede  rose  springing.  1700 

The  stalke  was  as  risshe  right, 
And  theron  stood  the  knoppe  upright. 
That  it  ne  bowed  upon  no  syde. 
The  swote  snielle  sprong  so  wyde 
That  it  dide  al  the  place  aboute —    ^705 


FRAGMENT  B. 

Whan  I  had  smelled  the  savour  swote, 
No  wille  hadde  I  fro  thens  yit  go. 
But  somdel  neer  it  wente  I  tho. 
To  take  it;    but  myn  bond,  for  drede, 
Ne  dorste  I  to  the  rose  hcde,j^ii/    17 10 
For  thistels  sharpc,  of  many  maneres, 
Netles,  thornes,  and  hoked  breres; 
[Ful]  muche  they  distourliled  me, 
For  sore  I  dradde  to  harmed  be. 

The  Ciod  of  Love,  with  bowe  bent. 
That  al  day  set  hadde  his  talent  1716 

To  pursuen  and  to  spyen  me. 
Was  stonding  by  a  lige-tree. 
And  whan  he  sawe  how  that  I 
Had  chosen  so  ententifly  1720 

The  bfetotin,  more  unto  my  pay 
Than  any  other  that  I  say, 
He  took  an  arowe  ful  sharply  whet. 
And  in  his  bowe  whan  it  was  set. 
He  streight  up  to  his  ere  drough        1725 
The  stronge  bowe,  that  was  so  tough. 
And  shet  at  me  so  wonder  smerte, 
That  thrcMjgh  myn  eye  unto  myn  herte 
The  tal<el  smoot,  and  depe  it  wente,  1729  . 
And  ther-with-al  such  cold  me  hente,jTP<4 
That,  under  clothes  warme  and  softe, 
Sith  that  day  I  have  chevered  ofte. 

Whan    I    was    hurt    thus    in    [that] 
stounde, 
I  fel  doun  plat  unto  the  grounde. 
Myn  herte  failed  and  feynted  ay,        1735 
And  long  tyme  [ther]  a-swone  I  lay. 
But  whan  I  com  out  of  swoning, 
And  hadde.  wit,  and  my  feling, 
I  was  al  "m^t,  and  wende  ful  wel 
Of  blood  have  loren  a  full  gret  del.    1740 
But  certes,  the  arowe  that  in  me  stood 
Of  me  ne  drew  no  drope  of  blood, 
For-why  I  found  my  wounde  al  dreye. 
Than  took  I  with  myn  hondis  tweye 
The  arowe,  and  ful  fast  out  it  plight. 
And  in  the  pulling  sore  I  sight.  1746 

So  at  the  last  the  shaft  of  tree 
I  drough  out,  with  the  fethers  three. 
But  yet  the  hoked  heed,  y-wis. 
The  whiche  Beautee  callid  is,  '750 

Gan  so  depe  in  myn  herte  passe, 
That  I  it  mighte  nought  arace; 
But  in  myn  herte  stille  it  stood, 
Al  bleiUle  I  not  a  drope  of  blood. 
1  was  bothe  anguissous  and  trouble    1755 


i8 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[1756-1861. 


For  the  peril  tliat  I  saw  double; 
I  niste  what  to  seye  or  do, 
Ne  gete  a  leche  my  woundis  to; 
For  neithir  thurgh  gras  ne  rote, 
Ne  hadde  I  help  of  hope  ne  bote.      1 760 
But  to  the  botoun  ever-mo 
Myn  heite  drew;    for  al  my  wo. 
My  thought  was  in  non  other  thing. 
For  hadde  it  been  in  my  keping. 
It  wolde  have  brought  my  lyf  agayn. 
For  certeinly,  I  dar  wel  seyn,  1 766 

The  sight  only,  and  the  savour, 
Alegged  muche  of  my  langour. 
Than  gan  I  for  to  drawe  me 
Toward  the  botoun  fair  to  see;  1770 

And  Love  hadde  gete  him,  in  [a]  throwe, 
Another  arowe  into  his  bowe. 
And  for  to  shete  gan  him  dresse; 
The  arowis  name  was  Simplesse. 
And  whan  that  Love  gan  nyghe  me  nere. 
He  drow  it  up,  withouten  were,  1776 

And  shet  at  me  with  al  his  might, 
So  that  this  arowe  anon-right 
Thourghout  [myn]  eigh,  as  it  was  founde, 
Into  myn  herte  hath  maad  a  wounde. 
Thanne  I  anoon  dide  al  my  crafte       1 78 1 
For  to  drawen  out  the  shafte. 
And  ther-with-al  I  sighed  eft. 
But  in  myn  herte  the  heed  was  left, 
Which  ay  encresid  my  desyre,  1785 

Unto  the  botoun  drawe  nere; 
And  ever,  mo  that  me  was  wo. 
The  more  desyr  hadde  I  to  go 
Unto  the  roser,  where  that  grew 
The  fresshe  botoun  so  bright  of  hewe. 
Betir  me  were  have  letenbe;  1 79 1 

But  it  bihoved  nedes  me 
To  don  right  as  myn  herte  bad. 
For  ever  the  body  must  be  lad 
Aftir  the  herte;    in  wele  and  wo,        1 795 
Of  force  togidre  they  must  go. 
But  never  this  archer  wolde  fyne 
To  shete  at  me  with  alle  his  pyne. 
And  for  to  make  me  to  him  mete.        1799 

The  thridde  arowe  he  gan  to  shete. 
Whan  best  his  tyme  he  mighte  espye. 
The  which  was  named  Curtesye; 
Into  myn  herte  it  dide  avale. 
A-swone  I  fel,  bothe  deed  and  pale; 
Long  tyme  I  lay,  and  stired  nought,    1 805 
Til  I  ahraid  out  of  my  thought. 
And  faste  than  I  avysed  me 
To  drawen  out  the  shafte  of  tree; 


But  ever  the  heed  was  left  bihinde 

For  ought  I  couthe  pulle  or  winde.     1810 

So  sore  it  stikid  whan  I  was  hit. 

That  by  no  craft  I  might  it  flit; 

But  anguissous  and  ful  of  thought, 

1  felte  such  wo,  my  wounde  ay  wrought, 

That  somoned  me  alway  to  go  1815 

Toward  the  rose,  that  plesed  me  so; 

But  I  ne  durste  in  no  manere, 

Bicause  the  archer  was  so  nere. 

For  evermore  gladly,  as  I  rede, 

Brent  child  of  fyr  hath  muche  drede.  1820 

And,  certis  yit,  for  al  my  peyne, 

Though  that  I  sigh  yit  arwisjeyne:  ^ 

And  grounde  quarels  sfiarpe  oT  stele, 

Ne  for  no  payne  that  I  might  fele, 

Yit  might  I  not  my-silf  withholde        1825 

The  faire  roser  to  biholde; 

For  Love  me  yaf  sich  hardement 

For  to  fulhlle  hiscomaundement. 

Upon  my  feet  I  roos  up  than 

Feble,  as  a  forwoundid  man;  1 830 

And  forth  to  gon  [my]  might  I  sette, 

And  for  the  archer  nolde  I  lette. 

Toward  the  roser  fast  I  drow; 

But  thornes  sharpe  mo  than  y-now 

Ther  were,  and  also  thistels  thikke,     1835 

And  breres,  brimme  for  to  prikke, 

That  I  ne  mighte  gete  grace 

The  rowe  thornes  for  to  passe. 

To  sene  the  roses  fresshe  of  hewe. 

I  must  abide,  though  it  me  rewe,  1840 

The  hegge  alDoute  so  thikke  was. 

That  closid  the  roses  in  compas. 

But  o  thing  lyked  me  right  wele 
I  was  so  nygh,  I  mighte  fele 
Of  the  botoun  the  svvote  odour,  1 845 

And  also  see  the  fresshe  colour; 
And  that  right  gretly  lyked  me, 
That  I  so  neer  it  mighte  see. 
Sich  loye  anoon  thereof  hadde  I, 
That  I  forgat  my  malady.  1850 

To  sene  [it]  hadde  I  sich  delyt. 
Of  sorwe  and  angre  I  was  al  quit, 
And  of  my  woundes  that  I  had  thar; 
For  no-thing  lyken  me  might  mar 
Than  dwellen  by  the  roser  ay,  1855 

And  thennes  never  to  passe  away. 

But  whan  a  whyle  I  had  be  thar. 
The  God  of  Love,  which  al  to-shar 
Myn  herte  with  his  arwis  kene, 
Caste  him  to  yeve  me  woundis  grene. 
He  shet  at  me  ful  hastily  1861 


1 862-1967.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


19 


An  arwe  named  Company, 

'I'he  vvhiche  takel  is  ful  al)le 

'I'd  make  these  ladies  merciahle. 

Than  I  anoon  gan  chaunj^cn  hewe     1S65 

Fur  j^revaunce  o(  my  WDunde  newe, 

That  I  agayn  fel  in  swuning, 

And  sighed  sore  in  compleyning. 

Sore  I  compleyned  that  my  sore 

(>n  me  gan  greven  more  and  more.   1 870 

I  iiad  non  hope  of  allegeaunce; 

So  nigh  1  druw  to  desperaunce, 

1  fought  of  dethe  ne  of  lyf, 

Wither  that  love  wolde  me  dryf. 

If  nic  a  martir  wolde  he  make,  1875 

1  might  his  power  nought  forsake. 

And  whyl  for  anger  thus  I  wook, 

The  God  of  Love  an  arowe  took; 

¥u\  sharp  it  was  and  [ful]  pugnaunt, 

And  it  was  callid  Fair-Semblaunt,      18S0 

The  which  in  no  wys  wol  conseiite, 

That  any  Icner  iiim  repente 

To  serve  his  love  with  herte  and  alle, 

For  any  peril  that  may  bifalle. 

But  though  this  arwe  was  kene  grounde 

As  any  rasour  that  is  founde,  1886 

To  cutte  and  kerve,  at  the  poynt. 

The  Ciod  of  Love  it  hadde  anoynt 

With  a  precious  oynement, 

Somdel  to  yeve  aleggement  1890 

Upon  the  wtjundes  that  he  had 

Through  the  body  in  my  herte  maad, 

To  helpe  hir  sores,  and  to  cure, 

And  that  they  may  the  bet  endure. 

But  yit  this  arwe,  withoute  more,       1895 

Made  in  myn  herte  a  large  sore, 

That  in  ful  gret  peyne  I  ai)ood. 

But  ay  the  oynement  wente  abrood; 

Throughout  my  woundes  large  and  wyde 

It  spredde  aboute  in  every  syde;        190x3 

Through  whos  vertu  anil  whos  might 

Myn  herte  loyful  was  and  light. 

I  had  ben  deed  and  al  to-shent 

But  for  the  precious  oynement. 

The  shaft  1  drow  out  of  the  arwe,      1905 

Roking  for  wo  right  wondir  narwe; 

But  the  heed,  which  made  me  smerte, 

Lefte  bihinde  in  myn  herte 

With  other  foure,  I  dar  wel  say, 

That  never  wol  be  take  away;  1910 

But  the  oynement  halp  me  wele. 

And  yit  sich  sorwe  dide  I  fele. 

That  al-day  I  chaunged  hewe. 

Of  my  woundes  fresshe  and  newe, 


As  men  might  see  in  my  visage.         1915 

The  arwis  were  so  fuUe  of  rage. 

So  variaunt  of  diversitee. 

That  men  in  everich  mighte  see 

Bothe  gret  anoy  and  eek  swetnesse, 

And  love  meynt  with  bittirnesse.       1920 

Now  were  they  esy,  now  were  they  wood, 

In  hem  I  felte  botlie  harm  and  good; 

Now  sore  without  aleggement. 

Now  softening  with  oynement; 

It  softne<I  here,  and  prikked  there,    1925 

Thus  ese  and  anger  togitler  were. 

The  God  of  Love  deliverly 
Com  lepand  to  me  hastily. 
And  seide  to  me,  in  gret  rape,  1929 

'  Yeld  thee,  for  thou  may  not  escape  ! 
May  no  defence  availe  thee  here; 
Therfore  I  rede  mak  no  daungere. 
If  thou  wolt  yelde  thee  hastily, 
Thou  shalt  [the]  rather  have  mercy. 
He  is  a  fool  in  sikernesse,  '935 

That  with  daunger  or  stoutnesse 
Rebellith  ther  that  he  shulde  plese; 
In  such  folye  is  litel  ese. 
Be  meek,  wher  thou  must  nedis  bowe; 
To  stryve  ageyn  is  nought  thy  prowe. 
Come  at  ones,  and  have  y-do,  194^ 

For  I  wol  that  it  be  so. 
Than  yeld  thee  here  debonairly.' 
And  I  answerid  ful  humbly, 
'Gladly,  sir;    at  your  bidding,  '945 

I  wol  me  yelde  in  alle  thing. 
To  your  servyse  I  wol  me  take; 
For  god  defende  that  I  shulde  make 
Ageyn  your  bidding  resistence; 
I  wol  not  doon  so  gret  offence;  1950 

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  wyse  may  I  go. 
My  lyf,  my  deth,  is  in  your  honde,     1955 
I  may  not  laste  out  of  your  bonde. 
Pleyn  at  your  list  I  yelde  me. 
Hoping  in  herte,  that  sumtyme  ye 
Comfort  and  ese  shuUe  me  sende; 
Or  ellis  shortly,  this  is  the  ende,         i960 
Withouten  helthe  I  moot  ay  dure, 
But-if  ye  take  me  to  your  cure. 
Comfort  or  helthe  how  shuld  I  have, 
Sith  ye  me  hurte,  but  ye  me  save?     1964 
The  helthe  of  lovers  moot  be  founde 
Wher-as  they  token  firste  hir  wounde. 
And  if  ye  list  of  me  to  make 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[1968-2073. 


Your  prisoner,  I  wol  it  take 

Of  herte  and  wil,  fully  at  gree. 

Hoolly  and  pleyn  I  yelde  me,  1970 

Withoute  feyiiiiig  or  feyntyse. 

To  he  governed  by  your  empryse. 

Of  you  I  here  so  much  prys, 

I  wol  ben  hool  at  your  devys 

For  to  fullille  your  lyking  1975 

And  repente  for  no-thing, 

Hoping  to  have  yit  in  som  tyde 

Mercy,  of  that  [that]  I  abyde.' 

And  with  that  covenaunt  yeld  I  me, 

Anoon  doun  kneling  upon  my  knee, 

Prcjfcring  for  to  kisse  his  feet;  1981 

But  for  no-thing  he  wolde  me  lete, 

And  seide,  'I  love  thee  bothe  and  preyse. 

Sen  that  thyn  answer  doth  me  ese, 

For  thou  answerid  so  curteisly.  1985 

For  now  I  wot  wel  uttirly, 

That  thou  art  gentil,  by  thy  speche. 

For  though  a  man  fer  wolde  seche, 

He  shulde  not  tinden,  in  certeyn. 

No  sich  answer  of  no  vileyn;  199° 

For  sich  a  word  ne  mighte  nought 

Isse  out  of  a  vilayns  thought. 

Thou  shalt  not  lesen  of  thy  speche. 

For  [to]  thy  helping  wol  I  eche, 

And  eek  encresen  that  I  may.  '995 

But  first  I  wol  that  thou  obay 

F"ully,  for  thyn  avauntage. 

Anon  to  do  me  here  homage. 

And  sithen  kisse  thou  shalt  my  mouth. 

Which  to  no  vilayn  was  never  couth 

For  to  aproche  it,  ne  for  to  touche;    2001 

For  sauf  of  cherlis  I  ne  vouche 

That  they  shuUe  never  neigh  it  nere. 

For  curteys,  and  of  fair  manere, 

Wel  taught,  and  ful  of  gentilnesse     2005 

He  muste  ben,  that  shal  me  kisse. 

And  also  of  ful  high  fraunchyse. 

That  shal  atteyne  to  that  empryse. 

'  And  first  of  o  thing  warne  I  thee. 
That  peyne  and  gret  adversitee  2010 

He  mot  endure,  and  eek  travaile, 
Ihat  shal  me  serve,  withoute  faile. 
But  ther-ageyns,  thee  to  comforte. 
And  with  thy  servise  to  desporte. 
Thou  mayst  ful  glad  and  loyful  be     2015 
So  good  a  maister  to  have  as  me, 
And  lord  of  so  high  renoun.      . 
I  here  of  Love  the  gonfanoun,|^-tVM^  » 
Of  Curtesye  the  banere; 
For  I  am  of  the  silf  manere,  2020 


Gentil,  curteys,  meek  and  free; 

That  who[so]  ever  ententif  be 

Me  to  hcjnoure,  doute,  and  serve, 

And  also  that  he  him  observe 

I'ro  trespas  and  fro  vilanye,  2025 

And  him  governe  in  curtesye 

With  wil  and  with  entencioun; 

For  whan  he  first  in  my  prisoun 

Is  caught,  than  muste  he  uttirly, 

Fro  thennes-forth  ful  bisily,  2030 

Caste  him  gentil  for  to  be, 

If  he  desyre  helpe  of  me.' 

Anoon  withouten  more  delay, 
Withouten  daunger  or  affray, 
I  bicom  his  man  anoon,  2035 

And  gave  him  thankes  many  a  oon, 
And  kneled  doun  with  hontiis  loynt, 
And  made  it  in  my  port  ful  queynt; 
The  loye  wente  to  myn  herte  rote. 
Whan  I  had  kissed  his  mouth  so  swote, 
I  had  sich  mirthe  and  sich  lyking,     2041 
It  cured  me  of  languisshing. 
He  askid  of  me  than  hostages  :  — 
'  I  have,'  he  seide,  '  taken  fele  homages 
Of  oon  and  other,  where  I  have  been 
Disceyved  ofte,  withouten  wene.        2046 
These  felouns,  fuUe  of  falsitee. 
Have  many  sythes  bigyled  me. 
And  through  falshede  hir  lust  acheved. 
Whereof  I  repente  and  am  agreved. 
And  I  hem  gete  in  my  daungere,       205 1 
Hir  falshed  shulle  they  bye  ful  dere. 
But  for  I  love  thee,  I  seye  thee  pleyn, 
I  wol  of  thee  be  more  certeyn; 
For  thee  so  sore  I  wol  now  binde,     2055 
That  thou  away  ne  shalt  not  winde 
For  to  denyen  the  covenaunt,  ,: 

Or  doon  that  is  not  avenaunt.  '>^y^iA^ 
That  thou  were  fals  it  were  gret  reuthe, 
Sith  thou  semest  so  ful  of  treuthe.'    2060 

'  Sire,  if  thee  list  to  undirstande, 
I  merveile  thee  asking  this  demande. 
For-why  or  wherfyre  shulde  ye 
Ostages  or  Iwfwft'aske  of  me. 
Or  any  other  sikirnesse,  2065 

Sith  ye  wote,  in  sothfastnesse, 
That  ye  have  me  surprysed  so, 
And  hool  myn  herte  taken  me  fro, 
That  it  wol  do  for  me  no-thing 
But-if  it  be  at  your  bidding?     w        2070 
Myn  herte  is  yours,  and  myn  right  nought, 
As  it  bihoveth,  in  dede  and  thought, 
Redy  in  alle  to  worche  your  vville, 


2074-2178-] 


THE   ROM  AUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


2085 


Whether  so  [it]  turne  to  good  or  ille. 
So  sore  it  lustith  you  to  plese,  2075 

No  man  thcrof  may  you  disseise. 
Ve  have  theruij_aet  sicli  lustise, 
That  it  is(^ettcyjPj}\  ninny  iviiini/*  ^ccS>^^ 
And  if  ye  (loufe  it  nohle  oheye,  0^ 

Ve  may  therof  do  make  a  keye,         20S0 
And  holde  it  with  you  for  ostage.'__ 
'  Now  certis,  this  is  noon  outrage,' 
Quoth  Love,  'and  fully  1  accord; 
For  v{  the  body  he  is  ful  lord 
That  hath  the  herte  in  his  tresor; 
Outrage  it  were  to  asken  more.' 

Than  of  his  aumener  he  drough 
A  litel  keye,  fetys  y-nough, 
Which  was  of  g<jld  polisshed  clere,   20S9 
And  seide  to  me,  '  With  this  keye  here 
Thyn  herte  to  me  now.wol  I  shette; 
F"or  al  my  lowellis  I'M^and  knette  l^v\  f 
I  binde  under  this  litel  keye. 
That  no  wight  may  carye  aweye; 
This  keye  is  ful  of  gret  poeste.'  2095 

With  which  anoon  he  touchid  me 
Undir  the  syde  ful  softely. 
That  he  myn  herte  sodeynly 
Without  [al]  anoy  had  spered. 
That  yit  right  nought  it  hath  me  dered. 
W'lian  he  had  doon  his  wil  al-out,     2101 
And  I  had  put  him  out  of  dout, 
'  Sire,'  I  seide,  '  I  have  right  gret  wille      ;, 
Your  lust  and  plesaunce  to  fullille.  _^  yJ'^^ 
Loke  ye  my  servise  take  at  gree 
By  thilke  feith  ye  owe  to  me. 
I  seye  nought  for  recreaundyse, 
For  I  nought  doute  of  your  servyse. 
But  the  servaunt  traveileth  in  vayne, 
That  for  to  serven  doth  his  payne      21 10 
Unto  that  lord,  which  in  no  wyse 
Can  him  no  thank  for  his  servyse.' 

Love  seide,  '  Dismaye  thee  nought, 
Sin  thou  for  sucour  hast  me  sought, 
Li  thank  thy  servise  wol  I  take,         21 15 
And  high  of  degree  I  wol  thee  make. 
If  wikkidnesse  ne  hindre  thee; 
But,  as  I  hope,  it  shal  nought  be. 
To  worship  no  wight  by  aventure 
May  come,  but-if  he  peyne  endure.    2120 
Ahyde  and  suffre  thy  distresse; 
That  hurtith  now,  it  shal  be  lesse; 
I  wot  my-silf  what  may  thee  save, 
What  medicyne  thou  woldist  have. 
And  if  thy  troathe  to  me  thoukepe,  2125 
I  shal  unto  thyn  helping  eke. 


'f^ 


To    cure    thy    woundcs    and    make   hem 

clene, 
Wher-so  they  be  olde  or  grcne; 
Thou  shalt  be  holpen,  at  wordis  fewe. 
For  certeynly  thou  shalt  wel  shewe    2130 
Wher  that  thou  servest  with  good  wille, 
For  to  complisshen  and  fulillle 
My  comaundementis,  day  and  night, 
Whiche  1  to  lovers  yeve  of  right.' 

'  Ah,  sire,  for  goddis  love,'  seide  I, 
'  Fr  ye  passe  hens,  ententiily  2136 

Your  comaundementis  to  me  ye  say. 
And  I  shal  kepe  hem,  if  I  may; 
For  hem  to  kepen  is  al  my  thought. 
And  if  so  be  I  wot  hem  nought,         2140 
Than  may  I  [sinne]  unwitingly. 
Wherfore  I  pray  you  enterely,  .■) 

With  al  myn  herte,  me  to  Icre,  \i^iJ^ 
That  I  trespasse  in  no  nianere.' 

The  god  of  love  than  chargid  me  2145 
Anoon,  as  ye  shal  here  and  see, 
W^ord  by  word,  by  right  enipryse, 
So  as  the  Romance  shal  devyse. 

The  maister  lesith  his  tyme  to  lere. 
Whan  the  disciple  wol  not  here         2150 
It  is  but  veyn  on  him  to  swinke. 
That  on  his  lerning  wol  not  thinke. 
Who-so  lust  love,  let  him  entende, 
For  now  the  Romance  ginneth  amende. 
Now  is  good  to  here,  in  fay,  2155 

If  any  be  that  can  it  say, 
And  poynte  it  as  the  resoun  is 
Set;    for  other-gate,  y-wis. 
It  shal  nought  wel  in  alle  thing 
Be  brought  to  good  undirstonding  :  2160 
For  a  reder  that  poyntith  ille 
A  good  sentence  may  ofte  spille. 
The  book  is  good  at  the  ending, 
Maad  of  newe  and  lusty  thing; 
For  who-so  wol  the  ending  here,       2165 
The  crafte  of  love  he  shal  now  lere. 
If  that  he  wol  so  long  abyde, 
Til  I  this  Romance  may  unhyde, 
And  undo  the  signifiaunce 
Of  this  dreme  into  Romaunce.  2170 

The  sothfastnesse  that  now  is  hid. 
Without  coverture  shal  be  kid, 
Whan  I  undon  have  this  dreming, 
Wherin  no  word  is  of  lesing. 

'  Vilany,  at  the  biginning,  2175 

I  wol,'  savd  Love,  '  over  alle  thing. 
Thou  ll^'fe^'tf  thou  wolt  [not]  be 
Fals,  and  trespasse  ageynes  me. 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[2179-2281. 


I  curse  and  blame  generally 

Alle  hem  that  luven  vilany;  2 1 80 

For  vilany  makith  vilayn, 

And  by  his  dedis  a  cherle  is  scyn. 

'1  liise  vilayns  am  without  pitee, 

Frcndshipe,  love,  and  al  bounte. 

I  nil  receyve  to  my  servyse  2185 

Hem  that  ben  vilayns  of  empryse. 

'  Hut  undirstonde  in  thyn  entent,  - 

That  this  is  not  myn  entendement,pCrj(pli'( 
To  clepe  no  wight  in  no  ages 
( )nly  gentil  for  his  linages.  2190 

But  who-so  [that]  is  vertuous, 
And  in  his  port  nought  outrageous, 
Whan  sich  oon  thou  seest  thee  biforn, 
Though  he  be  not  gentil  born, 
Thou  mayst  wel  seyn,  this  is  a  soth,  2195 
That  he  is  gentil,  bicause  he  doth 
As  longeth  to  a  gentilman; 
Of  hem  non  other  deme  I  can. 
For  certeynly,  withouten  drede, 
A  cherl  is  demed  by  his  dede,  2200 

Of  hye  or  lowe,  as  ye  may  see, 
Or  of  what  kinrede  that  he  be. 
Ne  say  nought,  for  noon  yvel  wille, 
Thing  that  is  to  holden  stille; 
It  is  no  worship  to  misseye.  2205 

Thou  mayst  ensample  take  of  Keye, 
That  was  somtyme,  for  misseying. 
Hated  bothe  of  old  and  ying; 
As  fer  as  Gaweyn,  the  worthy, 
Was  preysed  for  his  curtesy,  22IO 

Keye  was  hated,  for  he  was  fel, 
Of  word  dispitous  and  cruel. 
Wherfore  be  wyse_  and  aqueyntable, 
Goodly  of  word,  and  resonable 
Bothe  to  lesse  and  eek  to  mar.  2215 

And  whan  thou  comest  ther  men  ar, 
Loke  that  thou  have  in  custom  ay 
First  to  salue  hem,  if  thou  may : 
And  if  it  falle,  that  of  hem  som 
Salue  thee  first,  be  not  dom,  2220 

But  quyte  him  curteisly  anoon 
Without  abiding,  er  they  goon. 

'  For  no-thing  eek  thy  tunge  applye 
To  s]icke  wordis  of  ribaudye.  '•''-M:}''.i 
To  vilayn  speche  in  no  degree       "*'  2225 
Lat  never  thy  lippe  unbounden  be. 
For  I  nought  holde  him,  in  good  feith, 
Curteys,  that  foule  wordis  seith. 
And  alle  wimmen  serve  and  preyse, 
And  to  thy  power  hir  honour  reyse.  2230 
And  if  that  any  missayere 


Dispyse  wimmen,  that  thou  mayst  here, 
Blame  him,  and  bidde  him  holde  him 

stille. 
And  set  thy  might  and  al  thy  wille 
Wimmen  and  ladies  for  to  plese,        2235 
And  to  do  thing  that  may  hem  ese, 
That  they  ever  speke  good  of  thee, 
For  so  thou  mayst  best  preysed  be. 

'  Loke  fro  pryde  thou  kepe  thee  wele; 
f^  For    thou    mayst    bothe    perceyve   and 
fele,  2240 

That  pryde  is  bothe  foly  and  sinne; 
And  he  that  pryde  hath,  him  withinne, 
Ne  may  his  herte,  in  no  wyse, 
Meken  ne  souplen  to  servyse. 
For  pryde  is  founde,  in  every  part,    2245 
Contrarie  unto  Loves  art. 
And  he  that  loveth  trewely 
Shoulde  him  contene  lolily, 
Withouten  pryde  in  sondry  wyse, 
And  him  disgysen  in  queyntyse.        2250 
For  queynt  array,  withouten  drede. 
Is  no-thing  proud,  who  takith  hede; 
For  fresh  array,  as  men  may  see, 
Withouten  pryde  may  ofte  be. 

'  Mayntene  thy-silf  aftir  thy  rent,   2255 
Of  robe  and  eek  of  garnement; 
For  many  sythe  fair  clothing 
A  man  amendith  in  mich  thing. 
And  loke  alwey  that  they  be  shape. 
What  garnement  that  thou  shalt  make. 
Of  him  that  can  [hem]  beste  do,       2261 
With  all  that  perteyneth  therto. 
Poyntis  and  sieves  be  wel  sittand. 
Right  and  streight  upon  the  hand. 
Of  shoon  and  botes,  newe  and  faire,  2265 
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. 
How  they  come  on  or  of  ageyn.         2270 
Were  streite  gloves,  with  aumenere 
Of  silk;    and  alwey  with  good  chere 
Thou  yeve,  if  thou  have  richesse; 
And  if  thou  have  nought,  spend  the  lesse. 
Alwey  be  mery,  if  thou  may,  2275 

But  waste  not  thy  good  alway. 
Have  hat  of  floures  fresh  as  May, 
Chapelet  of  roses  of  Whitsonday; 
For  sich  array  ne  cost  but  lyte. 
Thyn    hondis    wasshe,    thy    teeth    make 
whyte,  2280 

And  let  no  filthe  upon  thee  be. 


2282-2387.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


23 


Thy  nailes  blak  if  thou  mayst  see, 
Vuiiie  it  awey  deiiverly, 
f.  And  kemhe  thy  11  heecl  right  lolily. 
(\     VFard]  not  thy  visage  in  no  wyse,     2285 
>^  For  that  of  love  is  not  thempryse; 
For  love  doth  haten,  as  I  finde, 
A  beaute  that  cometh  not  of  kinde. 
Alwey  in  herte  I  rede  thee 
Glad  and  mery  for  to  be,  2290 

And  be  as  loyful  as  thou  can ; 
Love  hath  no  loye  of  sorowful  man. 
That  yvel  is  ful  of  curtesye 
That  [lauhwith]  in  his  maladye; 
For,  ever  of  love  the  siknesse  2295 

Is  rrfe)'n^'with  swete  and  bitternesse. 
The  sore  of  love  is  merveilous; 
For  now  the  lover  [is]  loyous, 
Now  can  he  pleyne,  now  can  he  grone, 
Now  can  he  singen,  now  maken  mone. 
To-day  he  pleyneth  for  hevinesse,     2301 
To-morowe  he  pleyeth  for  lolynesse. 
The  lyf  of  love  is  full  contrarie, 
Which  st&iHKTSmeTS  can  ofte  varie. 
But  if  thou  canst  [som]  mirthis  make,  2305 
That  men  in  gree  vvole  gladly  take. 
Do  it  goodly,  I  comaunde  thee; 
For  men  sholde,  wher-so-ever  they  l)e, 
Do  thing  that  hem  [best]  sitting  is. 
For  therof  cometh  good  loos  and  pris. 
Wher-of  that  thou  be  vertuous,  231 1 

Ne  be  not  straunge  ne  daungerous. 
For  if  that  thou  good  rider  be, 
Prike  gladly,  that  men  may  se. 
In  armes  also  if  thou  conne,  2315 

Pursue,  til  thou  a  name  hast  wonne. 
And  if  thy  voice  be  fair  and  clere, 
Thou  shalt  maken  no  gret  daungere 
Whan  to  singe  they  goodly  preye; 
It  is  thy  worship  for  to  obeye.  2320 

Also  to  you  it  longith  ay 
To  harpe  and  giterne,  daunce  and  play; 
For  if  he  can  wel  foote  and  daunce. 
It  may  him  greetly  do  avaunce. 
Among  eek,  for  thy  lady  sake,  2325 

Songes  and  complayntes  that  thou  make; 
For  that  wol  meve  [hem]  in  hir  herte. 
Whan  they  reden  of  thy  smerte. 
Loke  that  no  man  for  scarce  thee  holde. 
For  that  may  greve  thee  manyfolde. 
Resoun  wol  that  a  lover  be  2331 

In  his  yiftes  more  large  and  free 
Than  cherles  that  been  not  of  loving. 
For  who  ther-of  can  any  thing. 


He  shal  be  leef  ay  for  to  yeve,  2335 

In  [Loves]  lore  who  so  wolde  leve; 
For  he  that,  through  a  sodcyn  sight. 
Or  for  a  kissing,  anon-rigiit 
Yaf  hool  his  herte  in  willc  and  thought. 
And  to  him-siif  kepith  right  nought,  2340 
Aftir  [swich  yift],  is  good  resoun. 
He  yeve  his  good  in  abandoun. 

'  Now  wol  I  shortly  here  reherce. 
Of  that  [that]  I  have  seid  in  verse, 
Al  the  sentence  by  and  by,  2345 

In  wordis  fewe  compendiously, 
That  thou  the  bet  mayst  on  hem  thinke, 
Whether-so  it  be  thou  wake  or  winke; 
For  [that]  the  wordis  litel  greve 
A  man  to  kepe,  whanne  it  is  breve.  2350 

'  Who-so  with  Love  wol  goon  or  ryde 
He  mot  be  curteys,  and  void  of  pryde, 
Mery  and  fulle  of  lolite. 
And  of  largesse  ill^bMte. 

'First  I  loyne  thee,  here  in  penaunce, 
That  ever,  withoute  repentaunce,       2356 
Thou  set  thy  thought  in  thy  loving. 
To  laste  withoute  repenting; 
And  thenke  upon  thy  mirthis  swete. 
That  shal  folowe  aftir  whan  ye  mete.  2360 

'  And  for  thou  trewe  to  love  shalt  be, 
I  wol,  and  [eek]  comaunde  thee, 
That  in  00  place  thou  sette,  al  hool, 
Thyn  herte,  withouten  halfen  dool.n^  •»  *•  «^~»^ 
For  trecherie,  [in]  sikernesse;  2365 

For  I  lovede  never  doublenesse. 
To  many  his  herte  that  wol  depart, 
Everiche  shal  have  but  litel  part. 
But  of  him  drede  I  me  right  nought. 
That  in  00  place  settith  his  thought. 
Therfore  in  00  place  it  sette,  2371 

And  lat  it  never  thennes  flette. 
P'or  if  thou  yevest  it  in  lening,  '<-•'--*  »  '^ 
I  holde  it  but  a  wrecchid  thing: 
Therfore  yeve  it  hool  and  quyte,        2375 
And  thou  shalt  have  the  more  merite. 
If  it  be  lent,  than  aftir  soon, 
The  bountee  and  the  thank  is  doon; 
But,  in  love,  free  yeven  thing  , 

Requyrith  a  gret  guerdoning.  ftvjt^tZ^^^  ivA^ 
Yeve  it  in  yift  al  (juit  fully,  ^^ 

And  make  thy  yift  debonairly; 
For  men  that  yift  [wol]  holde  more  dere 
That  yeven  is  with  gladsome  chere. 
That  yift  nought  to  preiscn  is  2385 

That  man  yeveth,  maugre  his.. 
Whan  thou  hast  yeven  thyn  herte,  as  I 


24 


TIIK   ROM  AUNT   OF  THE  ROSE.     (B.) 


[2388-2491. 


Have  seid  thee  here  [al]  openly, 

That!  aventuies  shulle  thee  falle,        2389 

Which  hardc  and  hcvy  been  withalle. 

For  (ift  whan  thou  bithcnkist  thee 

Of  thy  loving,  whcr-so  thou  be, 

Fro  folk  thou  must  depart  in  hy, 

That  noon  perceyve  thy  malatly,         2394 

15ut  liyde  thyn  harm  thou  must  alone, 

And  go  forth  sole,  and  make  thy  mone. 

Thou  shalt  no  whyl  be  in  00  stat, 

But  whylom  cold  and  whylom  hat; 

Now  reed  as  rose,  now  yelowe  and  fade. 

Such  sorowe,  I  trowe,  thou  never  hade; 

Cotidien,  ne  [yit]  quarteyne,  2401 

It  is  nat  so  ful  of  peyne. 

For  ofte  tymes  it  shal  falle 

In  love,  among  thy  peynes  alle. 

That  thou  thy-self,  al  hoolly,  2405 

Foryeten  shalt  so  utterly. 

That  many  tymes  thou  shalt  be 

Stille  as  an  image  of  tree, 

Dom  as  a  stoon,  w  ithout  stering 

Of  foot  or  hond,  without  speking.      2410 

Than,  sone  after  al  thy  peyne, 

To  memorie  shalt  thou  come  ageyn, 

As  man  abasshed  wondre  sore, 

And  after  sigh  en  more  and  more. 

For  wit  thou  wel,  withoutcn  wene,    2415 

In  swich  astat  ful  oft  have  been 

That  have  the  yvel  of  love  assayd, 

Wher-through  thou  art  so  dismayd. 

'  After,  a  thought  shal  take  thee  so, 
That  thy  love  is  to  fer  thee  fro :  2420 

Thou  shalt  say,  "  God,  what  may  this  be. 
That  I  ne  may  my  lady  see? 
Myne  herte  aloon  is  to  her  go. 
And  I  abyde  al  sole  in  wo. 
Departed  fro  myn  owne  thought,       2425 
And  with  myne  eyen  see  right  nought. 

'  "  Alas,  myn  eyen  sende  I  ne  may, 
My  careful  herte  to  convay  ! 
Myn  hertes  gyde  but  they  be, 
I  praise  no-thing  what  ever  they  see.  ' 
Shul  they  abyde  thanne?  nay;  2431 

But  goon  visyte  without  delay 
That  myn  herte  desyreth  so. 
P"or  certeynly,  but-if  they  go, 
A  fool  my-self  I  may  wel  holde,         2435 
Whan  I  ne  see  what  myn  herte  wolde. 
Wherfore  I  wol  gon  her  to  seen, 
Or  esed  shal  I  never  been, 
But  I  have  som  tokening." 
Then  gost  thou  forth  without  dweUing; 


But  ofte  thou  faylest  of  thy  desyre,    2441 

Er  thou  niayst  come  hir  any  nere. 

And  wastest  in  vayn  thy  passage. 

Than  fallest  thou  in  a  newe  rage; 

For  want  of  sight  thou  ginnest  morne. 

And  homward  pensif  dost  retorne.    2446 

In  greet  mischeef  than  shalt  thou  be, 

P"or  than  agayn  shal  come  to  thee 

Sighes  and  pleyntes,  with  newe  wo, 

That  no  icching  prikketh  so.  ^45^      \ 

Who  wot  it  nought,  he  may  go  lere  xi)W(\ 

Of  hem  that  byen  love  so  dere. 

'  No-thing  thyn  herte  appesen  may, 
That  oft  thou  wolt  goon  and  assay. 
If  thou  mayst  seen,  by  aventure,        2455 
Thy  lyves  loy,  thyn  hertis  cure; 
So  that,  by  grace  if  thou  might 
Atteyne  of  hir  to  have  a  sight, 
Than  shalt  thou  doon  non  other  dede 
But  with  that  sight  thyn  eyen  fede.    2460 
That  faire  fresh  whan  thou  mayst  see, 
Thyn  herte  shal  so  ravisshed  be, 
That    never   thou   woldest,   thy    thankis, 

lete, 
Ne  remove,  for  to  see  that  swete.       24^4     *) 
The  more  thou  seest  in  sothfastnesse,  Itritlf.' 
The  more  thou  coveytest  of  that  swet- 

nesse; 
The  more  thyn  herte  brenneth  in  fyr, 
The  more  thyn  herte  is  in  desyr. 
For  who  considreth  every  del. 
It  may  be  lykned  wondir  wel,  2470 

The  peyne  of  love,  unto  a  fere; 
For  ever  [the]  more  thou  neighest  nere 
Thought,  or  who-so  that  it  be. 
For  verray  sothe  I  telle  it  thee. 
The  hatter  ever  shal  thou  brenne,     2475 
As  experience  shal  thee  kenne. 
Wher-so  [thou]  comest  in  any  cost, 
Who  is  next  fyr,  he  brenneth  most. 
And  yit  forsothe,  for  al  thyn  hete. 
Though  thou  for  love  swelte  and  swete, 
Ne  for  no-thing  thou  felen  may         2481 
Thou  shalt  not  willen  to  passe  away. 
And  though  thou  go,  yet  must  thee  nede 
Thenke  al-day  on  hir  fairhede. 
Whom  thou  bihelde  with  so  good  wille; 
And  holde  thysilf  bigyled  ille,  2486 

That  thou  ne  haddest  non  hardement 
To  shewe  hir  ought  of  thyn  entent. 
Thyn  herte  ful  sore  thou  wolt  dispyse. 
And  eek  repreve  of  cowardyse,  2490 

That  thou,  so  dulle  in  every  thing. 


2492-2595-] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


25 


Were  doni  for  drede,  without  spekinj^. 

Thou  shalt  eck  thcnkc  thou  didest  foly, 

That  thiiu  were  hir  s.)  taste  by, 

And  tlurst  not  i\Wm'*niee  to  say       2495 

Som-thinfi,  er  thou  cam  away; 

For  thou  hachlist  no  more  wonne, 

To  speke  of  hir  whan  thou  bigonne  : 

l!ut  yif  she  wohle,  for  thy  sake, 

In  amies  goodly  thee  have  take,        2500 

U  shulde  have  be  more  worth  to  thee 

Than  of  tresour  greet  plentee. 

'Thus  shalt  thou  morne  and  eek  com- 

And  gete  e^tt?tiraWf'1o'goon  ageyn 

Unto  thy  walk,  or  to  thy  place,  2505 

Where  thou  biheld  hir  ileshly  face. 

And  never,  for  fals  suspeccioun, 

Thou  woklest  finde  occasioun 

For  to  gon  unto  hir  hous. 

So  art  thou  tlianne  desirous  25  lO 

A  sight  of  hir  for  to  have. 

If  thou  thine  honour  mightest  save, 

Or  any  erand  mightist  make 

Thider,  for  thy  loves  sake;  2514 

Ful  fayn  thou  woldist,  but  for  drede 

Thou  gost  nut,  lest  that  men  take  hede. 

Wherfore  I  rede,  in  thy  going, 

And  also  in  thyn  ageyn-coming, 

Thou  be  wel  war  that  men  ne  wit; 

P'eyne  thee  other  cause  than  it  2520 

To  go  that  weye,  or  faste  by; 

To  hele  wel  is  no  folye. 

And  if  so  be  it  happe  thee 

That  thou  thy  love  ther  mayst  see, 

In  siker  wyse  thou  hir  salewe,  2525 

Wiierwith  ihy  colour  wol'transniewe, 

And  eke  thy  blood  shal  al  to-quake, 

Thyn  hewe  eek  chaungen  for  hir  sake. 

But  word  and  wit,  with  chere  ful  pale, 

Shul  wante  for  to  telle  thy  tale.  2530 

And  if  thou  mayst  so  fa*-forth  winne, 

That  thou  [thy]  resoun  durst  higinne. 

And  woldis  seyn  three  thingis  or  mo, 

'I'hou  shalt  ful  scarsly  seyn  the  two. 

Though  thou  bithenke  thee  never  so  wel. 

Thou  shalt  foryete  yit  somdel,  2536 

But-if  thou  dele  with  trecherye. 

For  fals  lovers  mowe  al  folye 

Seyn,  what  hem  lust,  withouten  drede. 

They  be  so  double  in  hir  falshede;     2540 

For  they  in  herte  cunne  thenke  a  thing 

And  seyn  another,  in  hir  speking. 

And  whan  thy  speche  is  endid  al, 


Right  thus  to  thee  it  shal  bifal; 
If  any  word  than  come  to  minde,       2545 
'I'hat  thou  to  seye  hast  left  bihinde. 
Than  thou  shalt  brenne  in  greet  martyr; 
For  thou  shalt  brenne  as  any  fyr. 
This  is  the  stryf  and  eke  the  affray, 
And  the  batail  that  lastith  ay.  2550 

This  i)argeyn  ende  may  never  take, 
But-if  that  she  thy  pees  wil  make. 

'And  whan  the  night  is  comen,  anon 
A  thousand  angres  shal  come  upon.  2554 
To  bedde  as  fast  thou  wolt  thee  dight,  p(  ■?  j^'-"-*- 
Where  thou  shalt  have  but  smal  delyt; 
For  whan  thou  wenest  for  to  slepe, 
So  ful  of  peyne  shalt  thou  crepe, 
Sterte  in  thy  bedde  aboute  ful  wyde, 
And  turne  ful  ofte  on  every  syde;      2560 
Now  dounward  grofle,  and  now  upright. 
And  walowe  in  wo  the  longe  night, 
Thyne  armis  shalt  thou  sprede  abrede, 
As  man  in  werre  were  forwerreyd. 
Than  shal  thee  come  a  remembraunce 
Of  hir  shape  and  hir  seniblaunce, 
Wherto  non  other  may  be  pere.        .  •    p 

And  wife  thou  wel,  withoute  were.fVt— u*^  ' 
That    thee  shal   [seme],   somtyme   that 

night, 
That  thou  hast  hir,  that  is  so  bright,  2570 
Naked  bitwene  thyn  amies  there, 
Al  solhfastnesse  as  though  it  were. 
Thou  shalt  make  castels  than  in  Spayne, 
And  dreme  of  loye,  al  but  in  vayne, 
And  thee  delyten  of  right  nought,     2575 
Whyl  thou  so  slomrest  in  that  thought, 
That  is  so  swete  and  delitable, 
The  which,  in  soth,  nisbut  a  fable, 
For  it  ne  shal  no  whyle  laste.  2579 

Than  shalt  thou  sighe  and  wepe  faste. 
And  say,  "  Dere  god,  what  thing  is  this? 
My  dreme  is  turned  al  amis. 
Which  was  ful  swete  and  apparent, 
But  now  I  wake,  it  is  al  shent ! 
Now  yede  this  mery  thought  away  !  2585 
Twenty  tymes  upon  a  day 
I  wolde  this  thought  wolde  come  ageyn, 
For  it  alleggith  wel  my  peyn. 
It  niakith  me  ful  of  loyful  thought, 
It  sleeth  me,  that  it  lastith  noght.      2590 
A,  lord  !   why  nil  ye  me  socoure. 
The  loye,  I  trowe,  that  I  langoure? 
The  deth  I  wolde  me  shulde  slo 
Whyl  I  lye  in  hir  amies  two. 
Myn  harm  is  hard,  withouten  wene,  2595 


26 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[2596-2701. 


My  greet  unese  ful  ofte  I  mene. 

But  woliic  Love  tlo  so  I  might 

Have  fully  loye  of  hir  so  bright, 

My  peyne  were  quit  me  richely. 

Alias,  to  greet  a  thing  aske  I !  2600 

It  is  i)ut  foly,  and  wrong  wening, 

1  o  aske  so  outrageous  a  thing. 

And  vvho-so  askith  folily, 

lie  moot  be  warned  hastily; 

And  I  ne  wot  what  I  may  say,  2605 

I  am  so  fer  out  of  the  way; 

For  I  wolde  have  ful  gret  lyking 

And  ful  gret  loye  of  lasse  thing. 

For  wolde  she,  of  hir  gentilnesse, 

Withouten  more,  me  onis  kesse,        2610. 

It  were  to  me  a  greet  guerdouHj/'Oaylnyf* 

Relees  of  al  my  passioun. 

But  it  is  hard  to  come  therto; 

Al  is  but  foly  that  I  do. 

So  high  I  have  myn  herte  set,  2615 

Where  I  may  no  comfort  get. 

I  noot  wher  I  sey  wel  or  nought; 

But  this  I  wot  wel  in  my  thought, 

That  it  were  bet  of  hir  aloon, 

For  to  stint  my  wo  and  moon,  2620 

A  loke  on  [me]  y-cast  goodly, 

[Than]  for  to  have,  al  utterly, 

Of  another  al  hool  the  pley. 

A  !   lord  !  wher 'I  shal  byde  the  day 

That  ever  she  shal  my  lady  be?  2625 

He  is  ful  cured  that  may  hir  see. 

A  !  god  !   whan  shal  the  dawning  spring? 

To  ly  thus  is  an  angry  thing; 

I  have  ne  loye  thus  here  to  ly 

Whan  that  my  love  is  not  me  by.       2630 

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  night  were  went  away; 

For  were  it  day,  I  wolde  uj^ryse.        2635 

A  !   slow  Sonne,  shew  thyn  enpryse  ! 

Speed  thee  to  sprede  thy  bemis  bright, 

And  chace  the  derknesse  of  the  night. 

To  putte  away  the  stoundes  stronge. 

Which  in  me  lasten  al  to  longe."       2640 

'  The  night  shalt  thou  contene  so, 
\\'ithoute  rest,  in  peyne  and  wo; 
If  ever  thou  knewe  of  love  distresse. 
Thou  shalt  mowe  lerne  in  that  siknesse. 
And  thus  enduring  shalt  thou  ly,       2645 
And  ryse  on  morvve  up  erly 
Out  of  thy  bedde,  and  barneys  thee 
Er  ever  dawning  thou  mayst  see. 


Al  privily  than  shal  thou  goon, 

What  [weder]  it  be,  thy-silf  aloon,    2650 

P'or  reyn,  or  hayl,  for  snow,  for  slete, 

Thider  she  dwellith  that  is  so  swete, 

The  which  may  falle  aslepe  be, 

And  thenkith  but  litel  upon  thee. 

Than  shalt  thou  goon,  ful  foule  aferd; 

Loke  if  the  gate  be  unsperd,  2656 

And  waite  without  in  wo  and  peyn, 

Ful  yvel  a-cokl  in  winde  and  reyn. 

Than  shal  thou  go  the  dore  bifore. 

If  thou  maist  fynde  any  score,  2660 

Or  hole,  or  reft,  what  ever  it  were; 

Than  shalt  thou  stoupe,  and  lay  to  ere, 

If  they  within  a-slepe  be; 

I  mene,  alle  save  thy  lady  free. 

Whom  waking  if  thou  mayst  aspye,  2665 

Go  put  thy-silf  in  lupartye, 

To  aske  grace,  and  thee  bimene. 

That  she  may  wite,  withouten  wene. 

That  thou  [a] night  no  rest  hast  had. 

So  sore  for  hir  thou  were  bistad.        2670 

Wommen  wel  ought  pitie  to  take 

Of  hem  that  sorwen  for  hir  sake. 

And  loke,  for  love  of  that  relyke, 

That  thou  thenke  non  other  lyke, 

For  [whom]  thou  hast  so  greet  annoy. 

Shall  kisse  thee  er  thou  go  away,      2676 

And  hold  that  in  ful  gret  deyntee. 

And,  for  that  no  man  shal  thee  see 

Bifore  the  hous,  ne  in  the  way, 

Loke  thou  be  goon  ageyn  er  day.      2680 

Suche  coming,  and  such  going. 

Such  hevinesse,  and  such  walking, 

Makith  lovers,  withouten  wene, 

Under  hir  clothes  pale  and  lene. 

For  Love  leveth  colour  ne  cleernesse; 

Who  loveth  trewe  hath  no  fatnesse.  2686 

Thou  shalt  wel  by  thy-selfe  see 

That  thou  must  nedis  assayed  be. 

For  men  that  shape  hem  other  way 

Falsly  hir  ladies  to  bitray,  2690 

It  is  no  wonder  though  they  be  fat; 

With  false  othes  hir  loves  they  gat; 

For  oft  I  see  suche  losengeours 

Fatter  than  abbatis  or  priours. 

'  Yet  with  o  thing  I  thee  charge,   2695 
That  is  to  seye,  that  thou  be  large 
Unto  the  mayd  that  hir  doth  serve. 
So  best  hir  thank  thou  shalt  deserve. 
Yeve  hir  yiftes,  and  get  hir  grace,      2699 
For  so  thou  may  [hir]  thank  purchace. 
That  she  thee  worthy  holde  and  free. 


2702-2805.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (13.) 


27 


Thy  lady,  and  alle  that  may  thee  see. 
Also  hir  servauntes  worshipe  ay, 
And  plese  as  niuchc  as  thou  may; 
Gret  good   through    hem    may   come   to 
thee,  2705 

Bicause  with  hir  they  been  prive. 
They  shal  hir  telle  how  they  thee  fand 
Curtcis  and  wys,  and  wel  doand, 
And   she    shal    prcyse    [thee]    wel   the 
mare.  2709 

Loke  out  of  londe  thou  be  not  fare; 
And  if  such  cause  thou  have,  that  thee 
IJihovcth  to  gone  out  of  contree, 
I, eve  hool  thyn  herte  in  hostage. 
Til  thou  ageyn  make  thy  passage. 
Thenk  long  to  sec  the  swcte  thing     27 1 5 
That  hath  thyn  herte  in  hir  keping. 

'  Now  have  I  told  thee,  in  what  wyse 
A  lover  shal  do  me  servyse. 
Do  it  than,  if  thou  wolt  have 
The  fifefftf'fhat  thou  aftir  crave.'        2720 

Whan  Love  al  this  had  boden  me, 
I  seide  him  :  — '  Sire,  how  may  it  be 
That  lovers  may  in  such  manere 
Endure  the  peyne  ye  have  seid  here? 
I  mervcyle  me  wonder  faste,  2725 

How  any  man  may  live  or  laste 
In  such  peyne,  and  such  brenning. 
In  sorwe  and  thought,  and  such  sighing. 
Ay  unrelesed  wo  to  make. 
Whether  so  it  be  they  slepe  or  wake. 
In  such  annoy  continuely,  2731 

As  helpe  me  god,  this  merveile  I, 
How  man,  but  he  were  maad  of  stele. 
Might  live  a  month,  such  peynes  to  fele.' 

The  God  of  Love  than  seide  me,  2735 
•  Freend,  by  the  feith  I  owe  to  thee. 
May  no  man  have  good,  but  he  it  by. 
A  man  loveth  more  tendirly 
The  thing  that  he  hath  bought  most  dere. 
For  wite  thou  wel,  withouten  were,  2740 
In  tliank  that  thing  is  taken  more. 
For  which  a  man  hath  suffred  sore. 
Certis,  no  wo  ne  may  atteyne 
Unto  the  sore  of  love's  peyne. 
Non  yvel  therto  ne  may  amounte,      2745 
No  more  than  a  man  [may]  counte 
The  dropes  that  of  the  water  be. 
For  drye  as  wel  the  grete  see 
Thou  mightist,  as  the  harmes  telle 
Of  hem  that  v/ith  Love  dwelle  2750 

In  servyse;    for  peyne  hem  slceth, 
And  that  ech  man  wolde  flee  the  deeth. 


And  trowe  they  shulde  never  escape, 
Nere  that  hope  couthe  hem  make 
("dad  as  man  in  prisoun  set,  2755 

And  may  not  geten  for  to  et 
But  barly-breed,  and  watir  pure. 
And  lyeth  in  vermin  and  in  ordure; 
With  alle  this,  yit  can  he  live,  2759 

Good  hope  such  comfort  hath  him  yive. 
Which  maketh  wenc  that  he  shal  be 
Delivered  and  come  to  liberte; 
In  fortune  is  [his]  fulle  trust. 
Though  he  lye  in  strawe  or  dust, 
In  hope  is  al  his  susteyning.  2765 

And  so  for  lovers,  in  hir  wening, 
Whiche  Love  hath  shit  in  his  prisoun; 
Good-Hope  is  hir  salvacioun. 
Gooil-Hope,  how  sore  that  they  smerte, 
Yeveth  hem  bothe  wille  and  herte     2770 
To  profre  hir  body  to  martyre; 
For  Hope  so  sore  doth  hem  desyre 
To  suffre  ech  harm  that  men  devyse, 
For  loye  that  aftir  shal  aryse. 

'  Hope,  in  desire  [to]  cacche  victorie; 
In  Hope,  of  love  is  al  the  glorie.        2776 
For  Hope  is  al  that  love  may  yive; 
Nere  Hope,  ther  shulde  no  lover  live. 
Blessid  be  Hope,  which  with  desyre 
Avaunceth  lovers  in  such  manere.      2780 
Good-Hope  is  curteis  for  to  plese. 
To  kepe  lovers  from  al  disese. 
Hope  kepith  his  lond,  and  wol  abyde, 
For  any  peril  that  may  betyde; 
For  Hope  to  lovers,  as  most  cheef,    2785 
Doth  hem  enduren  al  mischeef; 
Hope  is  her  help,  whan  mister  is. 
And  I  shal  yeve  thee  eek,  y-wis. 
Three  other  thingis,  that  greet  solas 
Doth  to  hem  that  be  in  my  las.  VKJ^9^-^ 

'  The  firste  good  that  may  be  founde, 
To  hem  that  in  my  lace  be  bounde, 
Is  Swete-Thought,  for  to  recorde 
Thing  wherwith  thou  canst  accorde 
Best  in  thyn  herte,  wher  she  be;        2795 
Thought  in  absence  is  good  to  thee. 
Whan  any  lover  doth  compleyne. 
And  liveth  in  distresse  and  peyne, 
Than  Swete-Thought  shal  come,  as  blyve, 
Awey  his  angre  for  to  dryve.  2800 

It  niakith  lovers  have  remembraunce 
Of  comfort,  and  of  high  plesaunce. 
That  Hope  hath  hight  him  for  to  winne. 
For  Thought  anoon  then  shal  biginne. 
As  fer,  god  wot,  as  he  can  finde,        2805 


28 


THE    ROM  AUNT    OF   THE    ROSE.     (B.) 


[2806-2910. 


To  make  a  mirrour  of  his  minde; 
For  to  bihokle  he  wol  not  lette. 
Hir  ])erson  he  shal  afore  him  sette, 
Hir  lauj^hing  cyen,  persaunt  and  clere, 
Hir  shajjc,  hir  fuurnie,  hir  goodly  chere, 
Hir  mouth  that  is  so  gracious,  2811 

So  swcte,  and  eek  so  savcrous; 
( )('  alle  hir  fetures  he  slial  take  heede, 
His  eyen  with  alle  hir  limes  fede. 

'  Thus  Swete-Thenking  shal  aswage 
The  peyne  of  lovers,  and  hir  rage.     2816 
Thy  loye  shal  douljle,  withoute  gesse, 
Whan  thou  thenkist  on  hir  semlinesse, 
Or  (jf  hir  laughing,  or  of  hir  chere, 
That  to  thee  made  thy  lady  dere.       2820 
This  comfort  wol  I  that  thou  take; 
And  if  the  next  thou  wolt  forsake 
Which  is  not  lesse  saverous, 
Thciu  shuldist  been  to  daungerous.    2824 

'The  secounde  shal  be  Swete-Speche, 
That  hath  to  many  oon  be  leche, 
To  bringe  hem  out  of  wo  and  were, 
And  helpe  many  a  bachilere; 
And  many  a  lady  sent  socoure, 
That  have  loved  par-amour,  2830 

Through    speking,    whan    they    mighten 

here 
Of  hir  lovers,  to  hem  so  dere. 
To  [hem]  it  voidith  al  hir  smerte, 
The  which  is  closed  in  hir  herte.        2834 
In  herte  it  makith  hem  glad  and  light, 
Speche,  whan  they  mowe  have  sight. 
And  therfore  now  it  cometh  to  minde, 
In  olde  dawes,  as  I  fmde. 
That  clerkis  writen  that  hir  knewe, 
Ther  was  a  lady  fresh  of  hewe,  2840 

Which  of  hir  love  made  a  song 
On  him  for  to  remembre  among, 
In  which  she  seide,  "  Whan  that  I  here 
Speken  of  him  that  is  so  dere, 
To  me  it  voidith  al  [my]  smerte,       2845 
Y-wis,  he  sit  so  nere  myn  herte. 
To  speke  of  him,  at  eve  or  morwe. 
It  cureth  me  of  al  my  sorwe. 
To  me  is  noon  so  high  pleasaunce 
As  of  his  persone  daliaunce."  2850 

She  wist  ful  wel  that  Swete-Speking 
Comfortith  in  ful  muche  thing. 
Hir  love  she  had  ful  wel  assayed, 
Of  him  she  was  ful  wel  apayed; 
To  speke  of  him  hir  loye  was  set.      2855 
Therfore  I  rede  thee  that  thou  get 
A  felowe  that  can  wel  concele 


And  kepe  thy  counsel,  and  wel  hole, 

To  whom  go  shewe  hoolly  thyn  herte, 

Bothe  wele  and  wo,  loye  and  smerte : 

To  gete  comfort  to  him  thou  go,        2861 

And  i)rivi!y,  bitween  yow  two. 

Ye  shal  speke  of  that  goodly  thing. 

That  hath  thyn  herte  in  hir  keping; 

Of  hir  beaute  and  hir  semblaunce,     2865 

And  of  hir  goodly  countenaunce. 

Of  al  thy  state  thou  shalt  him  sey. 

And  aske  him  counseil  how  thou  may 

Do  any  thing  that  may  hir  plese; 

For  it  to  thee  shal  do  gret  ese,  2870 

That  he  may  wite  thou  trust  him  so, 

Bothe  of  thy  wele  and  of  thy  wo. 

And  if  his  herte  to  love  be  set. 

His  companye  is  muche  the  bet, 

For  resoun  wol,  he  shewe  to  thee       2875 

Al  uttirly  his  privite; 

And  what  she  is  he  loveth  so. 

To  thee  pleynly  he  shal  undo, 

Withoute  drede  of  any  shame, 

Bothe  telle  hir  renoun  and  hir  name.  2880 

Than  shal  he  forther,  ferre  and  nere, 

And  namely  to  thy  lady  dere, 

In  siker  wyse;   ye,  every  other 

Shal  helpen  as  his  owne  brother. 

In  trouthe  withoute  doublenesse,       2885 

And  kepen  cloos  in  sikernesse. 

For  it  is  noble  thing,  in   fay. 

To  have  a  man  thou  darst  say 

Thy  prive  counsel  every  del; 

For  that  wol  comfort  thee  right  wel,  2890 

And  thou  shalt  holde  thee  wel  apayed. 

Whan  such  a  freend  thou  hast  assayed. 

'The  thridde  good  of  greet  comfort 
That  yeveth  to  lovers  most  disport, 
Comith  of  sight  and  biholding,  2895 

That  clepid  is  Swete-Loking, 
The  whiche  may  noon  ese  do. 
Whan  thou  art  fer  thy  lady  fro; 
Wherfore  thou  prese  alvvey  to  be 
In  place,  where  thou  mayst  hir  se.     2900 
For  it  is  thing  most  amerous. 
Most  delitable  and  saverous, 
For  to  aswage  a  mannes  sorowe. 
To  sene  his  lady  by  the  morowe. 
F"or  it  is  a  ful  noble  thing  2905 

Whan  thyn  eyen  have  meting 
With  that  relyke  precious, 
Wherof  they  be  so  desirous. 
But  al  day  after,  soth  it  is. 
They  have  no  drede  to  f^en  amis,    2910 


2911-3015.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


29 


They  dreden  neither  wind  ne  reyn, 

Ne  [yit]  non  other  maner-peyn. 

For  whan  thyn  eyen  were  thus  in  bhs, 

Vit  of  hir  curtesye,  y-wis, 

Aloon  they  can  not  have  hir  loye,     2915 

But  to  the  herte  they  [it]  convoye; 

Part  of  hir  blis  to  him  [they]  sende, 

Of  al  this  harm_tQ_inake  an  ende, 

'J'hc  eye  is  a  good  niessangere,  1 

Which  can  to  the  herte  in  such  manere   I 
Ttnyivgis  send^r^hat  [he]  hath  5^61172921 
To  voide  him  of  his  peynes  clcen. 
Wiierof  the  herte  reioyseth  so 
That  a  gret  party  of  his  wo 
Is  voided,  and  put  awey  to  flight.       2925 
Right  as  the  derknesse  of  the  night 
Is  chased  with  clerenesse  of  the  mone, 
Right  so  is  al  his  wo  ful  sone 
Devoitled  ciene,  whan  that  the  sight 
Biholden  may  that  fresshe  wight        2930 
That  the  herte  desyreth  so, 
That  al  his  derknesse  is  ago; 
For  than  the  herte  is  al  at  ese, 
Whan   they  seen   that   [that]    may  hem 
plese. 

'  Now  have  I  thee  declared  alout,  2935 
Of  that  thou  were  in  drede  and  dout; 
For  I  have  told  thee  feithfully 
What  thee  may  curen  utterly, 
And  alle  lovers  that  wole  be 
Feithful,  and  ful  of  stabilite.  2940 

Good-Hope  alwey  kepe  by  thy  syde, 
And  Swete-Thought  make  eek  abyde, 
Swete-Loking  and  Swete-Speche; 
Of  alle  thyn  harmes  they  shal  be  leche. 
Of  every  thou  shall  have  greet  plesaunce; 
If  thou  canst  byde  in  sufferaunce,      2946 
And  serve  wel  without  feyntyse, 
Thou  shalt  be  quit  of  thyn  empryse, 
With  more  guerdoun,  if  that  thou  live; 
But  al  this  tyme  this  I  thee  yive.'       2950 

The  Cjod  of  Love  whan  al  the  day 
Had  taught  me,  as  ye  have  herd  say. 
And  enfourmed  compendiously. 
He  vanished  awey  al  sodeynly. 
And  I  alone  lefte,  al  sole,  2955 

S(j  ful  of  compleynt  and  of  dole. 
For  I  saw  no  man  ther  me  by. 
My  woundes  me  greved  wondirly; 
Me  for  to  curen  no-thing  I  knew. 
Save  the  botoun  bright  of  hew,  2960 

Wheron  was  set  hoolly  niy  thought ; 
Of  other  comfort  knew  I  nought. 


But  it  were  through  the  God  of  Love  ; 

I  knew  nat  elles  to  my  bihove 

That  might  me  esc  or  comfort  gete,  2965 

But-if  he  wolde  him  entermete.  ,j\\£,'  A^;_V.J^ 

The  roser  was,  withoute  doute,  \ 

Closed  with  an  hegge  withoute, 
As  ye  to-forn  have  herd  me  seyn  ; 
And  fast  I  bisied,  and  wolde  fayn      2970 
Have  passed  the  haye,  if  I  might 
Have  geten  in  by  any  slight 
Unto  the  botoun  so  fair  to  see. 
But  ever  I  dradde  blamed  to  be, 
If  men  wolde  have  suspeccioun  2975 

That  I  wolde  of  entencioun 
Have  stole  the  roses  that  ther  were; 
Therfore  to  entre  I  was  in  fere. 
But  at  the  last,  as  I  bithought 
Whether  I  sholde  passe  or  nought,   2980 
I  saw  come  with  a  gladde  chere 
To  me,  a  lusty  bachelere, 
Of  good  stature,  and  of  good  hight, 
And  Bialacoil  forsothe  he  hight. 
Sone  he  was  to  Curtesy,  2985 

And  he  me  graunted  ful  gladly 
The  passage  of  the  outer  hay. 
And  seide  :  —  '  .Sir,  how  that  ye  may 
Passe,  if  [it]  your  wille  be, 
The  fresshe  roser  for  to  see,  2990 

And  ye  the  swete  savour  fele. 
Your  warrant  may  [I  be  J  right  wele ; 
So  thou  thee  kepe  fro  folye, 
Shal  no  man  do  the  vilanye. 
If  I  may  helpe  you  in  ought,  2995 

I  shal  not  feyne,  dredeth  nought ; 
For  I  am  bounde  to  your  servyse, 
Fully  devoide  of  feyntyse.' 
Than  unto  Bialacoil  saide  I, 
'  I  thank  you,  sir,  ful  hertely,  3000 

And  your  biheest  [I]  take  at  gree,    iPrc-Y^^^*"^-* 
That  ye  so  goodly  profer  me  ;  " 

To  you  it  Cometh  of  greet  fraunchyse, 
That  ye  me  profer  your  servyse.' 
Than  aftir,  ful  deliverly,  3005 

Through  the  breres  anoon  wente  I, 
Whereof  encombred  was  the  hay. 
I  was  wel  plesed,  the  soth  to  say. 
To  see  the  botoun  fair  and  swote. 
So  fresshe  spronge  out  of  the  rote.    3010 

And  Bialacoil  me  served  well, 
Whan  I  so  nygh  me  mighte  fele 
Of  the  botoun  the  swete  odour, 
And  so  lusty  hewed  of  colour. 
But  than  a  ch'erl  (foule  him  bityde!) 


30 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[3016-3121. 


Bisyde  the  roses  gan  him  hyde,  3016 

To  kepe  the  roses  of  that  roser, 

Of  whom  the  name  was  Daunger. 

This  cherl  was  hid  there  in  the  greves, 

Covered  with  grasse  and  with  leves,  3020 

To  spyc  and  take  whom  that  he  fond 

Unto  that  roser  putte  an  hond. 

He  was  not  sole,  for  ther  was  mo  ; 

For  with  him  were  other  two 

Of  wikkid  maners,  and  yvel  fame.     3025 

That  oon  was  clepid,  by  his  name, 

Wikked-Tonge,  god  yeve  him  sorwe  ! 

For  neither  at  eve,  ne  at  morwe, 

He  can  of  no  man  [no]  good  speke  ; 

On  many  a  lust  man  doth  he  wreke.  3030 

Ther  was  a  womman  eek,  that  hight 

Shame,  that,  who  can  reken  right, 

Trespas  was  hir  fadir  name, 

Hir  moder  Resoun  ;    and  thus  was  Shame 

[On  lyve]  brought  of  these  ilk  two.  3035 

And  yit  had  Trespas  never  ado 

With  Resoun,  ne  never  ley  hir  by, 

He  was  so  hidous  and  ugly, 

I  mene,  this  that  Trespas  hight  ; 

But  Resoun  conceyveth,  of  a  sight,   3040 

Shame,  of  that  I  spak  aforn. 

And  whan  that  Shame  was  thus  born, 

It  was  ordeyned,  that  Chastitee 

Shulde  of  the  roser  lady  be. 

Which,  of  the  botouns  more  and  las, 

With  sondry  folk  assailed  was,  3046 

That  she  ne  wiste  what  to  do. 

For  Venus  hir  assaiiith  so, 

That  night  and  day  from  hir  she  stal 

Botouns  and  roses  over-al.  3050 

To  Resoun  than  prayeth  Chastitee, 

Whom  Venus  flemed  over  the  see, 

That  she  hir  doughter  wolde  hir  lene, 

To  kepe  the  roser  fresh  and  grene. 

Anoon  Resoun  to  Chastitee  S^SS 

Is  fully  assented  that  it  be. 

And  grauntid  hir,  at  hir  request. 

That  Shame,  bicause  she  is  honest, 

Shal  keper  of  the  roser  be. 

And  thus  to  kepe  it  ther  were  three, 

That  noon  shulde  hardy  be  ne  bold  3061 

(Were  he  yong,  or  were  he  old) 

Ageyn  hir  wille  awey  to  bere 

Botouns  ne  roses,  that  ther  were. 

I  had  wel  sped,  had  I  not  been  3065 

Awayted  with  these  three,  and  seen. 

For  Bialacoil,  that  was  so  fair, 

So  gracious  and  debonair, 


Quitte  him  to  me  ful  curteisly, 

And,  me  to  plese,  bad  that  I  3070 

Shuld  draw  me  to  the  botoun  nere ; 

Prese  in,  to  touche  the  rosere 

Which  bar  the  roses,  he  yaf  me  leve  ; 

This  graunt  ne  might  but  litel  greve. 

And  for  he  saw  it  lyked  me,  3^75 

Right  nygh  the  botoun  pullede  he 

A  leef  al  grene,  and  yaf  me  that, 

The  which  ful  nygh  the  botoun  sat; 

I  made  [me]  of  that  leef  ful  queynt. 

And  whan  I  felte  I  was  aqueynt         3080 

With  Bialacoil,  and  so  prive, 

I  wende  al  at  my  wille  had  be. 

Than  wex  I  hanly  for  to  tel 

To  Bialacoil  how  me  bifel 

Of  Love,  that  took  and  wounded  me, 

And  seide  :   '  Sir,  so  mote  I  thee,       3086 

I  may  no  loye  have  in  no  wyse, 

Upon  no  syde,  but  it  ryse  ; 

For  sithe  (if  I  shal  not  feyne) 

In  herte  I  have  had  so  gret  peyne,    3090 

So  gret  annoy,  and  such  affray. 

That  I  ne  wot  what  I  shal  say; 

I  drede  your  wrath  to  disserve. 

Lever  me  were,  that  knyves  kerve 

My  body  shulde  in  pecis  smalle,         3095 

Than  in  any  wyse  it  shulde  falle 

That  ye  wratthed  shulde  been  with  me.' 

'  Sey  boldely  thy  wille,'  quod  he, 

'  I  nil  be  wroth,  if  that  I  may,  3^99 

For  nought  that  thou  shalt  to  me  say.' 

Thanne  seide  I,  '  Sir,  not  you  displese 
To  knowen  of  my  greet  unese. 
In  which  only  love  hath  me  brought  ; 
For  peynes  greet,  disese  and  thought. 
Fro  day  to  day  he  doth  me  drye  ;      3105 
Supposeth  not,  sir,  that  I  lye. 
In  me  fyve  woundes  dide  he  make. 
The  sore  of  whiche  shal  never  slake 
But  ye  the  botoun  graunte  me, 
Which  is  most  passaunt  of  beautee,  31 10 
My  lyf,  my  deth,  and  my  martyre, 
And  tresour  that  I  most  desyre.' 

Than  Bialacoil,  affrayed  all, 
Seyde,  '  Sir,  it  may  not  fall  ; 
That  ye  desire,  it  may  not  ryse.  31 '5 

What  ?  wolde  ye  shende  me  in  this  wyse  ? 
A  mochel  foole  than  I  were,  ^   ,-. 

If  I  suffrid  you  aw^ey  to  bere  '^ 

The  fresh  botoun,  so  fair  of  sight. 
For  it  were  neither  skile  ne  right       3120 
Of  the  roser  ye  broke  the  rind. 


3122-3227.] 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF   THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


31 


Or  take  the  rose  aforn  his  kind  ; 

Ye  ar  not  courteys  to  aske  it. 

Lat  it  stil  on  the  roser  sit. 

And  growe  til  it  amended  be,  3^25 

And  partitly  come  to  beaute. 

I  nolde  not  that  it  pulled  wer 

Fro  the  roser  that  it  ber, 

To  me  it  is  so  lecf  and  dere.' 

With  that  sterte  out  anoon  Daungere, 
Out  of  tlie  place  where  he  was  hid.  3131 
His  malice  in  his  chere  was  kid  ;)^iAtw1^ 
l'"ul  greet  he  was,  and  blak  of  hewe, 
Sturdy  and  hidous,  who-so  him  knewe  ; 
Like  sharp  urchoiuis  Jiis  here  was  growe, 
His  eyes  teatfa^the^re-glow  ;  i^i^^ 

His  nose  frounced  ful  kirked  stood. 
He  com  criancl  as  lie  were  wood, 
And  seitle,  '  Bialacoil,  tell  me  why 
Thou  bringest  hider  so  boldly  3140 

Him  that  so  nygh  [is]  the  roser  ? 
Thou  worchist  in  a  wrong  maner ; 
He  thenkith  to  dishonour  thee,      1      ,  il 
Thou  art  wel  worthy  to  have  maiigree' ' 
To  late  him  of  the  roser  wit  ;  3^45 

Who  serveth  a  feloun  is  yvel  quit. 
Thou  woldist  have  doon  greet  bountee, 
And  he  with  shame  wolde  quyte  thee. 
Flee  hennes,  felowe  !   I  rede  thee  go  ! 
It  wanteth  litel  I  wol  thee  slo  ;  3150 

For  Bialacoil  ne  knew  thee  nought, 
Whan  thee  to  serve  he  sette  his  thought  ; 
For  thou  wolt  shame  him,  if  thou  might, 
Bothe  ageyn  resoun  and  right. 
I  wol  no  more  in  thee  affye,|VuJ» '      3155 
That  comest  so  slyghly  for  tespye ; 
For  it  preveth  wonder  wel, 
Thy  slight  and  tresoun  every  del.' 

I  durst  no  more  ther  make  abode, 
For  the  cherl,  he  was  so  wode ;  3160 

So  gan  he  threten  and  manace, 
And  thurgh  the  haye  he  did  me  chace. 
For  feer  of  him  I  tremblid  and  quook, 
So  cherlisbly  his  heed  he  shook  ; 
And  seide,  if  eft  he  might  me  take,  3165 
I  shulde  not  from  his  hondis  scape. 

Than  Bialacoil  is  fled  and  mate, 
And  I  al  sole,  disconsolate. 
Was  left  aloon  in  peyne  and  thought  ; 
For  shame,  to  deth  I  was  nygh  brought. 
Than  thought  I  on  myn  high  foly,     31 71 
How  that  my  body,  utterly. 
Was  yeve  to  peyne  alid  to  martyre  ; 
And  therto  hadde  I  so  gret  yre, 


That  I  ne  durst  the  hayes  passe  ;       3175 
There  was  non  hope,  there  was  no  grace. 
I  trowe  never  man  wiste  of  peyne, 
But  he  were  laced  in  Loves  cheyne ; 
Ne  no  man  [wot],  and  sooth  it  is, 
But-if  he  love,  what  anger  is.  3180 

Love  holdith  his  heest  to  me  right  wele, 
Whan  peyne  he  seide  I  shulde  fele. 
Non  herte  may  thenke,  ne  tunge  seyne, 
A  quarter  of  my  wo  and  peyne. 
I  might  not  with  the  anger  laste  ;      3 1 85 
Myn  herte  in  poynt  was  for  to  braste, 
Whan  I  thought  on  the  rose,  that  so 
Was  through  Daungcr  cast  me  froo. 

A  long  whyl  stood  1  in  that  state, 
Til  that  me  saugh  so  mad  and  mate  3190 
The  lady  of  the  highe  ward. 
Which  from  hir  tour  lokid  thiderward. 
Resoun  men  clepe  that  lady. 
Which  from  hir  tour  deliverly 
Come  doun  to  me  withouten  more.    3195 
But  she  was  neither  yong,  ne  hore, 
Ne  high  ne  low,  ne  fat  ne  lene. 
But  best,  as  it  were  in  a  mene. 
Hir  eyen  two  were  cleer  and  light 
As  any  candel  that  brenneth  bright ;  32CK) 
And  on  hir  heed  she  hadde  a  crown. 
Hir  semede  wel  an  high  persoun  ; 
For  rounde  enviroun,  hir  crownet 
Was  ful  of  riche  stonis  fret. 
Hir  goodly  semblaunt,  by  devys,        3205 
I  trowe  were  maad  in  paradys  ; 
Nature  had  never  such  a  grace. 
To  forge  a  werk  of  such  compace. 
For  certeyn,  but  the  letter  lye, 
God  him-silf,  that  is  so  high,  3210 

Made  hir  aftir  his  image. 
And  yaf  hir  sith  sich  avauntage. 
That  she  hath  might  and  seignorye 
To  kepe  men  from  al  folye  ; 
Who-so  wole  trowe  hir  lore,  3215 

Ne  may  offenden  nevermore. 

And  whyl  I  stood  thus  derk  and  pale, 
Resoun  bigan  to  me  hir  tale  ; 
She  seide  :   '  Al  hayl,  my  swete  frend  ! 
Foly  and  childhood  wol  thee  shend,  3220 
Which  thee  have  put  in  greet  affray; 
Thou  hast  l)ought  dere  the  tyme  of  May, 
That  made  thyn  herte  mery  to  be. 
In  yvel  tyme  thou  wentist  to  see 
The  gardin,  whcrof  Vdilncsse  3225 

Bar  the  keye,  and  was  maistresse 
Whan  thou  yedest  in  the  daunce 


32 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[3228-3330. 


With  hir,  and  haddcst  aqneyntaunce; 

Hir  aqueyntaunce  is  perilous, 

First  sufte,  and  aftir[\vard]  noyous;   3230 

She  hath  [thee]  trasshed,  vvithoutewecn; 

The  God  of  Love  had  thee  not  seen, 

Ne  hadde  Vdihiesse  thee  conveyed 

In  the  verger  where  Mirthe  him  pleyed. 

If  Foly  have  suppriscd  thee,  3235 

Do  so  that  it  recovered  be; 

And  i)e  vvel  war  to  take  no  more 

Counsel,  that  greveth  aftir  sore; 

He  is  wys  that  wol  himsilf  chastyse. 

And  though  a  young  man  in  any  wyse 

Trespace  among,  and  do  foly,  324 1 

I, at  him  not  tarye,  but  hastily 

Lat  him  amende  what  so  be  mis. 

And  eek  I  counseile  thee,  y-wis. 

The  God  of  Love  hoolly  foryet,  3245 

That  hath  thee  in  sich  peyne  set, 

And  thee  in  herte  tormented  so. 

I  can  nat  seen  how  thou  mayst  go 

Other  weyes  to  garisoun ;  CiA.r<  . 

For  Daunger,  that  is  so  feloun,  H^fiir'^e^O 

Felly  purposith  thee  to  werrey. 

Which  is  ful  cruel,  the  soth  to  sey. 

'And  yit  of  Daunger  cometh  no  blame. 
In  reward  of  my  doughter  Shame, 
Which  hath  the  roses  in  hir  warde,  3255 
As  she  that  may  be  no  m  us  a  r  d  e .  (.^J^^-^t^JU" 
And  Wilcked-Tunge  is  with  these  two, 
'I'hat  suftVith  no  man  thider  go; 
For  er  a  thing  be  do,  he  shal. 
Where  that  he  cometh,  over-al,         3260 
In  fourty  places,  if  it  be  sought. 
Seye   thing    that    never   was    doon    ne 

wrought; 
So  moche  tresoun  is  in  his  male. 
Of  falsnesse  for  to  [feyne]  a  tale. 
Thou  delest  with  angry  folk,  y-wis;  3265 
Wherfor  to  thee  [it]  bettir  is 
From  these  folk  awey  to  fare, 
For  they  wol  make  thee  live  in  care. 
This  is  the  yvel  that  Love  they  calle, 
Wherin  ther  is  but  foly  alle,  3270 

For  love  is  foly  everydel; 
Who  loveth,  in  no  wyse  may  do  wel, 
Ne  sette  his  thought  on  no  good  werk. 
His  scole  he  lesith,  if  he  be  clerk; 
Of  other  craft  eek  if  he  be,  3275 

He  shal  not  thryve  thcrin;    for  he 
In  love  shal  have  more  passioun 
Than  monke,  hermyte,  or  chanoun. 
The  peyne  is  hard,  out  of  mesure. 


The  loye  may  eek  no  whyl  endure;  3280 

And  in  the  ]jossessioun 

Is  muche  trilmlacioun ; 

The  loye  it  is  so  short-lasting. 

And  but  in  happe  is  the  geting; 

For  I  see  ther  many  in  travaille,        3285 

That  atte  laste  foule  fayle. 

I  was  no-thing  thy  counseler. 

Whan  thou  were  maad  the  homager 

Of  God  of  Love  to  hastily; 

Ther  was  no  wisdom,  but  foly.  3290 

Thyn  herte  was  loly,  but  not  sage. 

Whan  thou  were  brought  in  sich  a  rage, 

To  yelde  thee  so  redily, 

And  to  Love,  of  his  gret  maistry. 

'  I  rede  thee  Love  awey  to  dryve,  3295 
That  makith  thee  recfne  not  of  thy  lyve. 
The  foly  more  fro  day  to  day 
Shal  growe,  but  thou  it  putte  away. 
Take  with  thy  teeth  the  bridel  faste. 
To  daunte  thyn   herte ;     and    eek    thee 

caste,  3300 

If  that  thou  mayst,  to  gete  defence 
For  to  redresse  thy  first  offence. 
Who-so  his  herte  alwey  wol  leve, 
Shal  finde  among  that  shal  him  greve.' 

Whan  I  hir  herd  thus  me  chastyse, 
I  answerd  in  ful  angry  wyse.  33^6 

I  prayed  hir  cessen  of  hir  speche, 
Outher  to  chastyse  me  or  teche, 
To  bidde  me  my  thought  refreyne, 
Wiiich    Love    hath    caught    in    his    de- 

meyne :  —  33io 

'  What?  wene  ye  Love  wol  consent, 
That  me  assailith  with  bowe  bent, 
To  draw  myn  herte  out  of  his  honde. 
Which  is  so  quikly  in  his  bonde? 
That  ye  counsayle,  may  never  be;      3315 
For  whan  he  first  arested  me. 
He  took  myn  herte  so  hool  him  til, 
That  it  is  no-thing  at  my  wil; 
He  [taughte]  it  so  him  for  to  obey. 
That  he  it  sparred  with  a  key.  3320 

I  pray  yow  lat  me  be  al  stille. 
For  ye  may  wel,  if  that  ye  wille, 
Your  wordis  waste  in  idilnesse; 
For  utterly,  withouten  gesse, 
Al  that  ye  seyn  is  but  in  veyne.         3325 
Me  were  lever  dye  in  the  peyne. 
Than  Love  to  me-ward  shulde  arette 
Falsheed,  or  tresoun  on  me  sette. 
I  wol  me  gete  prys  or  blame. 
And  love  trewe,  to  save  my  name;    3330 


333I-3434-] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


33 


Who  me  chastysith,  I  him  hate.' 

With  that  word  Kesoun  wente  hir  gate, 
Whan  she  sau^h  for  no  sermoning 
She  might  me  fro  my  foly  bring. 
Than  dismayed,  I  leftc  all  sool,  ^        3335 
Forwcry,  forwandred  as  a  fool, 
For  I  ne  knew  no  chevisaunce.  b'fU^jj/' 
Than  fel  into  my  remembraunce, 
How  Love  bade  me  to  purveye 
A  felowe,  to  whom  I  mighte  seye      3340 
My  counsel  and  my  privete, 
For  that  shulde  muche  availe  me. 
With  that  bithought  I  me,Tha'n^ 
Hadde  a  felowe  faste  by, 
Trewe  and  sikcr,  curteys,  and  hend,  3345 
And  he  was  called  by  name  a  Freend; 
A  trewer  felowe  was  no-wher  noon. 
In  haste  to  him  I  wente  anoon, 
And  to  him  al  my  wo  I  tolde, 
Fro  him  right  nought  I  wold  withholde. 
I  tolde  him  al  withoute  were,  335 ' 

And  made  my  compleynt  on  Daungere, 
How  for  to  see  he  was  hidous, 
And  to-me-ward  contrarious; 
The  whiche  through  his  cruelte         3355 
Was  in  poynt  to  have  meygned  me; 
With  Bialacoil  whan  he  me  sey 
Within  the  gardyn  walke  and  pley, 
Fro  me  he  made  him  for  to  go. 
And  I  bilefte  aloon  in  wo;  33^0 

I  durst  no  lenger  with  him  speke, 
For  Daunger  seide  he  wolde  be  wreke. 
Whan  that  he  sawe  how  I  wente 
The  fresshe  botoun  for  to  hente, 
If  I  were  hardy  to  come  near  33^5 

Bitwene  the  hay  and  the  roser. 
This   Freend,  whan   he  wiste   of  my 
thought. 
He  discomforted  me  right  nought. 
But  seide,  '  Felowe,  l)e  not  so  mad, 
Ne  so  abaysshed  nor  bistad.  337° 

My-silf  I  knowe  ful  wel  Daungere, 
And  how  he  is  feers  of  his  chere, 
At  prime  temps,  Love  to  manace  ; 
Ful  ofte  I  have  ben  in  his  caas. 
A  feioun  first  though  that  he  be,        3375 
Aftir  thou  shalt  him  souple  see. 
Of  long  passed  I  knew  him  wele  ; 
Ungoodly  first  though  men  him  fele. 
He  wol  meek  aftir,  in  his  bering, 
Been,  for  service  and  obeysshing.       3380 
I  sha!  thee  telle  what  thou  shalt  do :  — 
Mekely  I  rede  thou  go  him  to. 


Of  herte  pray  him  specialy 

Of  thy  trespace  to  have  mercy,  3384 

And  hdte  him  wel,  [him]  here  to  plese. 

That  thou  shalt  nevermore  him  displese. 

Who  can  best  serve  of  fiatery, 

Shal  plcse  L)avingcr  most  uttirly.' 

My  I'Veend  hath  seid  to  me  so  wel, 
That  he  me  esid  hath  somdel,  339° 

And  eek  allegged  of  my  torment; 
For  through  him  had  I  hardement 
Agayn  to  Uaunger  for  to  go, 
To  preve  if  I  might  meke  him  so. 

To  Daunger  cam  I,  al  ashamed,     3395 
The  which  aforn  me  hadde  blamed, 
Desyring  for  to  pese  my  wo; 
But  over  hegge  durst  I  not  go. 
For  he  forbad  me  the  passage. 
I  fond  him  cruel  in  his  rage,  3400 

And  in  his  hond  a  gret  burdoun. 
To  him  I  knelid  lowe  adoun, 
Ful  meke  of  port,  and  simple  of  chere, 
Antl  seide,  '  Sir,  I  am  comen  here 
Only  to  aske  of  you  mercy.  34^5 

That  greveth  me,  [sir],  ful  gretly 
That  ever  my  lyf  I  wratthed  you. 
But  for  to  amende  I  am  come  now, 
W'ith  al  my  might,  bothe  loude  and  stille, 
To  doon  right  at  your  owne  wille;     3410 
For  Love  made  me  for  to  do 
That  I  have  trespassed  hidirto; 
Fro   whom    I   ne   may   withdrawe   myn 

herte; 
Yit  shal  I  never,  for  loy  ne  smerte, 
What  so  bifalle,  good  or  ille,  3415 

Offende  more  ageyn  your  wille. 
Lever  I  have  endure  disese 
Than  do  that  shulde  you  displese. 

'  I  you  require  and  pray,  that  ye 
Of  me  have  mercy  and  pitee,  3420 

To  stinte  your  yre  that  greveth  so. 
That  I  wol  swere  for  evermo 
To  be  redressid  at  your  lyking, 
If  I  trespasse  in  any  thing; 
Save  that  I  pray  thee  graunte  me      3425 
A  thing  that  may  nat  warned  be, 
That  I  may  love,  al  only; 
Non  other  thing  of  you  aske  I. 
I  shal  doon  elles  wel,  y-wis, 
If  of  your  grace  ye  graunte  me  this.  3430 
And  ye  [ne]  may  not  letten  me. 
For  wel  wot  ye  that  love  is  free, 
And  I  shall  loven,  [sith]  that  I  wil, 
Who-ever  lyke  it  wel  or  il  ; 


34 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[3435-3539- 


And  yit  ne  wold  I  for  al  Fraunce,     3435 
Do  thing  to  do  you  displcsaunce.' 

Than  Daungcr  lil  in  his  cntent 
P'or  to  foryevc  his  maltalcnt; 
But  all  his  wratthe  yit  at  laste 
He  hath  relesed,  1  preyde  so  faste  :  344O 
Shortly  he  seide,  '  Thy  request 
Is  not  to  mochel  dishonest; 
Ne  I  wol  not  werne  it  thee, 
For  yit  no-thing  engreveth  me. 
For  though  thou  love  thus  evermore, 
To  me  is  neither  softe  ne  sore.  3446 

Love  wher  the  list;   what  recchith  me, 
So  [thou]  fer  fro  my  roses  be? 
Trust  not  on  me,  for  noon  assay, 
In  any  tyme  to  passe  the  hay.'  3450 

Thus  hath  he  graunted  my  prayere. 

Than  wente  I  forth,  withouten  were. 
Unto  my  Freend,  and  tolde  him  al, 
Which  was  right  loyful  of  my  tale. 
He  seide,  '  Now  goth  wel  thyn  affaire 
He  shal  to  thee  be  debonaire.  345^ 

Though  he  aforn  was  dispitous. 
He  shal  heeraftir  be  gracious. 
If  he  were  touchid  on  som  good  veyne. 
He  shuld  yit  rewen  on  thy  peyne.     3460 
Suffre,  I  rede,  and  no  boost  make, 
Til  thou  at  good  mes  mayst  him  take. 
By  suffraunce,  and  [by]  wordis  softe, 
A  man  may  overcomen  ofte 
Him  that  aforn  he  hadde  in  drede,    3465 
In  bookis  sothly  as  I  red.' 

Thus  hath  my  Freend  with  gret  com- 
fort 
Avaunced  me  with  high  disport, 
Which  wolde  me  good  as  mich  as  I. 
And  thanne  anoon  ful  sodeynly         3470 
I  took  my  leve,  and  streight  I  went 
Unto  the  hay;   for  gret  talent 
I  had  to  seen  the  fresh  botoun, 
Wherin  lay  my  salvacioun; 
And  Daunger  took  kepe,  if  that  I     3475 
Kepe  him  covenaunt  trevvly. 
So  sore  I  dradde  his  manasing, 
I  durst  not  breke[n]  his  bidding; 
For,  lest  that  I  were  of  him  shent, 
I  brak  not  his  coniaundement,  3480 

For  to  purchase  his  good  wik 
It  was  [hard]  for  to  come  ther-til, 
His  mercy  was  to  fer  bihinde; 
I  wepte,  for  I  ne  might  it  finde, 
I  compleyned  and  sighed  sore,  3485 

And  languisshed  evermore, 


For  I  durst  not  over  go 

Unto  the  rose  I  loved  so. 

Thurghout  my  deming  outerly, 

[Than]  had  he  knowlege  certeinly,  3490 

[That]  Love  me  ladde  in  sich  a  wyse. 

That  in  me  ther  was  no  feyntyse, 

Falsheed,  ne  no  trecherye. 

And  yit  he,  ful  of  vilanye. 

Of  disdeyne,  and  cruelte,  3495 

On  me  ne  wolde  have  pite. 

His  cruel  wil  for  to  refreyne, 

Though  I  wepe  alwey,  and  compleyne. 

And  while  I  was  in  this  torment, 
Were  come  of  grace,  by  god  sent,      3500 
Fraunchyse,  and  with  hir  Pite 
Fullild  the  botoun  of  bountee. 
They  go  to  Daunger  anon-right 
To  forther  me  with  all  hir  might. 
And  helpe  in  worde  and  in  dede,       3505 
For  wel  they  saugh  that  it  was  nede. 
First,  of  hir  grace,  dame  Fraunchyse 
Hath  taken  [word]  of  this  enipryse  : 
She  seide,  '  Daunger,  gret  wrong  ye  do 
To  worche  this  man  so  muche  wo,    35 10 
Or  pynen  him  so  angerly ; 
It  is  to  you  gret  vilany. 
I  can  not  see  why,  ne  how. 
That  he  hath  trespassed  ageyn  you. 
Save  that  he  lowth  ;,  y^erefore  ye  shulde 
The  more  in  chetet^e^of  him  holde.    3516 
The  force  of  love  makith  him  do  this; 
Who  wolde  him  blame  he  dide  amis? 
He  leseth  more  than  ye  may  do; 
His  peyne  is  hard,  ye  may  see,  lo!    3520 
And  Love  in  no  wyse  wolde  consente 
That  [he]  have  power  to  repente; 
For  though  that  quik  ye  wolde  him  sloo. 
Fro  Love  his  herte  may  not  go. 
Now,  swete  sir,  is  it  your  ese  3525 

Him  for  to  angre  or  disese? 
Alias,  what  may  it  you  avaunce 
To  doon  to  him  so  greet  grevaunce? 
What  worship  is  it  agayn  him  take, 
Or  on  your  man  a  werre  make,  3530 

Sith  he  so  lowly  every  wyse 
Is  redy,  as  ye  lust  devyse? 
If  Love  hath  caught  him  in  his  lace, 
You  for  tobeye  in  every  caas. 
And  been  your  suget  at  your  wille,    3535 
Shulde  ye  therfore  willen  him  ille? 
Ye  shulde  him  spare  more,  al-out. 
Than  him  that  is  bothe  proud  ancl  stout. 
Curtesye  wol  that  ye  socour  3539 


354C^3645-] 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


35 


Hem  that  l)en  meke  undir  your  cure. 
His  hcrte  is  hard,  that  wulc  nut  nieUe, 
Whan  men  of  mei<enesse  him  biseke.' 

'That  is  ccrtjyn,'  seide  I'ite; 
'  We  see  ufte  that  humilitee 
15()the  ire,  ami  also  felonye  3545 

Ven(iuissheth,  and  also  melancolye; 
To  stonde  forth  in  such  duresse, 
This  crueltee  and  wikkednesse. 
Whcrfore  I  jiray  you,  sir  Daungere, 
For  to  mayntene  no  lenger  here         35 5° 
Such  cruel  werre  agayn  your  man, 
As  hoolly  youres  as  ever  he  can; 
Nor  that  ye  worchen  no  more  wo 
On  this  caytif  that  languisshith  so, 
Which  wol  no  more  to  you  trespasse,  35  "^S 
But  put  him  hoolly  in  your  grace. 
His  otl'ense  ne  was  hut  lyte; 
The  God  of  Love  it  was  to  wyte. 
That  he  your  thral  so  gretly  is. 
And  if  ye  harm  him,  ye  doon  amis;    3560 
F'or  he  hath  had  full  hard  penaunce, 
Sith  that  ye  refte  him  thaqueyntaunce 
Of  Bialacoil,  his  moste  loye. 
Which  alle  his  peynes  might  acoye.nlXti^^- 
He  was  biforn  anoyed  sore,  3565' 

But  than  ye  doubled  him  wel  more; 
For  he  of  blis  hath  ben  ful  bare, 
Sith  Bialacoil  was  fro  him  fare. 
Love  hath  to  him  do  greet  distresse, 
He  hath  no  nede  of  more  duresse.    3570 
Voideth  from  him  your  ire,  I  rede; 
Ye  may  not  winnen  in  this  dede. 
Makith  Bialacoil  repeire  ageyn, 
And  haveth  pite  upon  his  peyn; 
¥ov  Fraunchise  wol,  and  I,  Pite,        3575 
That  merciful  to  him  ye  be; 
And  sith  that  she  and  I  accorde,  f 

Have  upon  him  misericorde;        - 1 , ^  '"^^"t" 
For  I  you  pray,  and  eek  moneste,  10^0^ 
Nought  to  refusen  our  requeste;         3580 
For  he  is  hard  and  fel  of  thought. 
That  for  us  two  wol  do  right  nought.' 

Daunger  ne  might  no  more  endure, 
He  nieked  him  unto  mesure. 

'  I  wol  in  no  wyse,'  seith  Daungere, 
'  Den)e  that  ye  have  asked  here;       35S6 
It  were  to  greet  uncurtesye. 
I  wol  ye  have  the  companye 
Of  Bialacoil,  as  ye  devyse ; 
I  wol  him  letten  in  no  wyse.'  359° 

To  Bialaci)il  than  wente  in  hy 
Fraunchyse,  and  seide  full  curteisly:  — 


'  Ve  have  to  longe  be  deignous 
Unto  this  lover,  and  daungerous. 
Fro  him  to  withdrawe  your  presence,  3595 
Whicii  hath  do  to  him  grete  offence, 
That  ye  not  wolde  ujjon  him  see; 
Wherfore  a  sorowful  man  is  he. 
Shape  ye  to  paye  him,  and  to  plese, 
Of  my  love  if  ye  wol  have  ese.  3600 

Fultil  his  wil,  sith  that  ye  knowe 
Daunger  is  daunteil  and  brought  lowe 
Thurgh  help  of  me  and  of  I'ite; 
You  [thar]  no  more  afered  be.' 

'  I  shal  tlo  right  as  ye  wil,'  3^5 

Saith  Bialacoil,  '  for  it  is  skil, 
Sith  Daunger  wol  that  it  so  be.' 
Than  Fraunchise  hath  him  sent  to  me. 

Bialacoil  at  the  biginning 
Salued  me  in  his  coming.  3610 

No  straungenes  was  in  him  seen. 
No  more  than  he  ne  had  wrathed  been. 
As  faire  semblaunt  than  shewed  he  me. 
And  goodly,  as  aforn  did  he; 
And  by  the  honde,  withouten  doute,  3615 
Within  the  haye,  right  al  aboute 
He  ladde  me,  with  right  gqod  chere, 
Al  environ  the  vergere,-j;  ,,tLa.^-K^ 
That  Daunger  had  me  chased  fro. 
Now  have  I  leve  over-al  to  go;  3620 

Now  am  I  raised,  at  my  devys, 
Fro  helle  unto  paradys. 
Thus  Bialacoil,  of  gentilnesse. 
With  alle  his  peyne  and  besinesse, 
Hath  shewed  me,  only  of  grace,         3625 
The  estres  of  the  swote  place. 

I  saw  the  rose,  whan  I  was  nigh. 
Was  gretter  woxen,  and  more  high, 
Fresh,  rody,  and  fair  of  hewe, 
Of  colc^ur  ever  yliche  newe.  3630 

And  whan  I  had  it  longe  seen, 
I  saugh  that  through  the  leves  grene 
The  rose  spredde  to  spanishing; 
To  sene  it  was  a  goodly  thing. 
But  it  ne  was  so  spred  on  brede,        3635 
That  men  within  might  knowe  the  sede; 
For  it  covert  was  and  [enjclose 
Bothe  with  the  leves  and  with  the  rose. 
The  stalk  was  even  and  grene  upright, 
It  was  theron  a  goodly  sight;  3640 

And  wel  the  belter,  withouten  wene, 
For  the  seed  was  not  [y]-sene. 
Ful  faire  it  spradde,  [god  it  blesse!] 
I'nr  suche  another,  as  I  gesse, 
.\forn  ne  was,  ne  more  vermayle        3645 


36 


THE  ROMAUNT  OF  THE  ROSE.     (B.) 


[3646-3751- 


I  was  abavved  for  merveyle, 

For  ever,  the  fairer  that  it  was, 

The  more  I  am  hournien  in  Loves  laas. 

Longe  I  abood  there,  soth  to  saye, 
Til  Bialacoil  I  gan  to  praye,  3650 

Whan  that  I  saw  him  in  no  wyse 
To  nie  warnen  his  servyse, 
That  he  me  wolde  graunte  a  thing, 
Which  to  remenibre  is  wel  sitting; 
This  is  to  sayne,  that  of  his  grace      3655 
He  wolde  me  yeve  leyser  and  space 
To  me  that  was  so  desirous 
To  have  a  kissing  precious 
Of  the  goodly  freshe  rose. 
That  swetely  smelleth  in  my  nose;    3660 
'  For  if  it  you  displesed  nought, 
I  wolde  gladly,  as  I  have  sought, 
Have  a  cos  therof  freely 
Ofyouryeft;    for  certainly 
I  wol  non  have  but  by  your  leve,       3665 
So  loth  me  were  you  for  to  greve.' 

He  sayde,  '  Frend,  so  god  me  spede, 
Of  Chastite  I  have  suche  drede, 
Thou  shuldest  not  warned  be  for  me. 
But  I  dar  not,  for  Chastite.  3670 

Agayn  hir  dar  I  not  misdo, 
For  alwey  biddeth  she  me  so 
To  yeve  no  lover  leve  to  kisse; 
For  who  therto  may  winnen,  y-wis, 
He  of  the  surplus  of  the  pray  3675 

May  live  in  hope  to  get  som  day. 
For  who  so  kissing  may  attayne. 
Of  loves  peyne  hath,  soth  to  sayne, 
The  beste  and  most  avenaunt,  C</'7i>,iUA>( 
And  ernest  of  the  remenaunt.'  368b 

Of  his  answere  I  syghed  sore; 
I  durst  assaye  him  tho  no  more, 
I  had  such  drede  to  greve  him  ay. 
A  man  shulde  not  to  muche  assaye 
To  chafe  his  frend  out  of  mesure,      3685 
Nor  put  his  lyf  in  aventure; 
For  no  man  at  the  firste  stroke 
Ne  may  nat  felle  doun  an  oke; 
Nor  of  the  reisins  have  the  wyne, 
Til  grapes  rype  and  wel  afyne  3690 

Be  sore  embressid,  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  wo,  3695 

Sith  I  to  kis  desyred  so : 
Til  that,  [rewing]  on  my  distresse, 
Ther  [to  me]  Venus  the  goddesse, 


Which  ay  werreyeth  Chastite, 

Came  of  hir  grace,  to  socoure  me,     3700 

Whos  might  is  knowe  fer  and  wyde, 

For  she  is  modir  of  Cupyde, 

The  (jod  of  Love,  blinde  as  stoon, 

That  hclijith  lovers  many  oon. 

This  lady  brought  in  hir  right  bond  3705 

Of  brenning  fyr  a  biasing  brond;.f{fj^ 

Wherof  the  flavvme  and  bote  fyr 

Hath  many  a  lady  in  desyr 

Of  love  brought,  and  sore  het. 

And  in  hir  servise  hir  hertes  set.        3710 

This  lady  was  of  good  entayle, 

Right  wondirful  of  apparayle; 

By  hir  atyre  so  liright  and  shene. 

Men  might  perceyve  wel,  and  seen. 

She  was  not  of  religioun.  37^5 

Nor  I  nil  make  mencioun 

Nor  of  [hir]  robe,  nor  of  tresour, 

Of  broche,  [nor]  of  hir  rich  attour; 

Ne  of  hir  girdil  aboute  hir  syde, 

For  that  I  nil  not  long  aliyde.  3720 

But  knowith  wel,  that  certeynly 

She  was  arayed  richely. 

Devoyd  of  pryde  certeyn  she  was; 

To  Bialacoil  she  wente  a  pas, 

And  to  him  shortly,  in  a  clause,         3725 

She  seide :  '  Sir,  what  is  the  cause 

Ye  been  of  port  so  daungerous 

Unto  this  lover,  and  denyous, 

To  graunte  him  no-thing  but  a  kis? 

To  werne  it  him  ye  doon  amis;  3730 

Sith  wel  ye  wote,  how  that  he 

Is  Loves  servaunt,  as  ye  may  see. 

And  hath  beaute,  wher-through  [he]  is 

\Vorthy  of  love  to  have  the  blis. 

How  he  is  semely,  biholde  and  see,  3735 

How  he  is  fair,  how  he  is  free. 

How  he  is  swote  and  debonair, 

Of  age  yong,  lusty,  and  fair. 

Ther  is  no  lady  so  hauteyne, 

Duchesse,  countesse,  ne  chasteleyne, 

That  I  nolde  holde  hir  ungoodly       3741 

For  to  refuse  him  outerly. 

His  breeth  is  also  good  and  swete, 

And  eke  his  lippis  rody,  and  mete 

Only  to  pleyen,  and  to  kisse.  3745 

Graunte  him  a  kis,  of  gentilnesse  ! 

His  teeth  arn  also  whyte  and  clene; 

Me  thinkith  wrong,  withouten  wene, 

If  ye  now  werne  him,  trustith  me. 

To  graunte  that  a  kis  have  he;  375° 

The  lasse  [to]  helpe  him  that  ye  haste, 


3752-3856.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  Or  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


37 


The  more  tyme  shu!  ye  waste.' 

Whan  the  flawme  of  the  verry  lirond, 

That  Venus  hroui^ht  in  hif  right  hoiid. 

Had  Bialacoil  with  hete  siiiete,  3755 

Anoon  he  hail,  withouten  lette, 

Ciraunte  to  me  the  rose  kisse. 

Than  of  my  peyne  I  gan  to  lisse, 

And  to  the  rose  anoon  wente  I, 

Antl  kissid  it  ful  feithfuily.  3760 

Thar  no  man  aske  if  I  was  blythe, 

\\  han  the  savour  soft  and  lythe 

Strook  to  myn  herte  withoute  more, 

And  me  alegged  of  my  sore. 

So  was  I  ful  of  loye  and  blisse.       '  3765 

It  is  fair  sich  a  flour  to  kisse, 

It  was  so  swote  and  saverous. 

I  might  not  he  so  anguisshous, 

Tliat  I  mote  glad  and  loly  he, 

Whan  that  I  rememhre  me.  377° 

Yit  ever  among,  sothly  to  seyn, 

I  suffre  TO^'e  and  moche  peyn. 

The  see  may  never  be  so  stil. 
That  with  a  litel  wind  it  [nil] 
Overwhelme  and  turne  also,  3775 

As  it  were  wood,  in  wS.-Ws  go. 
Aftir  the  calm  the  trouble  sone 
Mot  folowe,  and  chaunge  as  the  mone. 
Right  so  farith  Love,  that  selde  in  con 
Holdith  his  anker;    for  right  anoon  3780 
Whan  they  in  ese  wene  best  to  live, 
They  been  with  tempest  al  fordrive. 
Who  serveth  Love,  can  telle  of  wo; 
The  stoundemele  loye  mot  overgo. 
Now  he  hurteth,  and  now  he  cureth,  3785 
For  selde  in  00  poynt  Love  endureth. 

Now  is  it  right  me  to  precede, 
How  Shame  gan  medle  and  take  hede, 
Thurgh  whom  felle  angres  I  have  had; 
And  how  the  stronge  wal  was  maad, 
And  the  castell  of  brede  and  lengthe, 
That  God  of  Love  wan  with  his  strengthe. 
Al  this  in  romance  wil  I  sette, 
And  for  no-thing  ne  wil  I  lette. 
So  that  it  lyking  to  hir  be,  3795 

That  is  the  flour  of  beaute; 
For  she  may  best  my  labour  quyte, 
That  I  for  hir  love  shal  endyte.  ^ 

Wikkid-Tunge,  that  the  covyne^t'Cn 
Of  every  lover  can  devyne  3800 

Worst,  and  addith  more  somdel, 
(P'or  Wikkid-Tunge  seith  never  wel). 
To  me-ward  bar  he  right  gret  hate, 
Espying  me  erly  and  late. 


5805 


Til  he  hath  seen  the  grcte  chere 

Of  Bialacoil  and  me  y-fere. 

lie  miglite  not  his  lunge  withstonde 

Worse  to  reporte  than  he  fonde, 

He  was  so  ful  of  cursed  rage; 

It  sat  him  wel  of  his  linage,  3810 

For  him  an  Irish  womman  bar. 

Ills  tunge  was  fyled  sharp,  and  sijuar, 

Poignaunt  and  right  kerving. 

And  wonder  bitter  in  speking. 

For  whan  that  he  me  gan  espye,       3815 

He  swoor,  afferming  sikirly, 

Bitwene  Bialacoil  and  me 

Was  yvel  aquayntaunce  and  privee. 

He  spak  therof  so  folily, 

That  he  awakid  lelousy;  3820 

Which,  al  afrayed  in  his  rysing, 

Whan  that  he  herde  [him]  langling, 

He  ran  anoon,  as  he  were  wood. 

To  Bialacoil  ther  that  he  stood; 

Which  hadde  lever  in  this  caas  3825 

Have  been  at  Reynes  or  Amyas; 

For  foot-hoot,  in  his  felonye 

To  him  thus  seide  lelousye  :  — 

'  Why  hast  thou  been  so  necligent. 

To  kepen,  whan  I  was  absent,  3830 

This  verger  here  left  in  thy  ward? 

To  me  thou  haddist  no  reward, 

To  truste  (to  thy  confusioun) 

Him  thus,  to  whom  suspeccioun 

I  have  right  greet,  for  it  is  nede;       3835 

It  is  wel  shewed  by  the  dede. 

Greet  faute  in  thee  now  have  I  founde; 

By  god,  anoon  thou  shalt  be  bounde, 

And  faste  loken  in  a  tour, 

Withoute  refuyt  or  socour.  3840 

For  Shame  to  long  hath  be  thee  fro; 

Over  sone  she  was  agoo. 

Whan  thou  hast  lost  bothe  drede    and 

fere. 
It  semed  wel  she  was  not  here. 
She  was  [not]  bisy,  in  no  wyse,         3845 
To  kepe  thee  and  [to]  chastyse. 
And  for  to  helpen  Chastitee 
To  kepe  the  roser,  as  thinkith  me. 
For  than  this  boy-knave  so  boldely 
Ne  sholde  not  have  be  hardy,  3850 

[Ne]  in  this  verger  had  such  game. 
Which  now  me  turneth  to  gret  shame.' 

Bialacoil  nist  what  to  sey; 
Ful  fayn  he  wolde  have  fled  awey. 
For  fere  han  hid,  nere  that  he  3855 

Al  sodeynly  took  him  with  me. 


38 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[3857-3962. 


And  whan  I  saugh  he  hadde  so, 

This  leluusye,  take  us  two, 

I  was  astoned,  and  knew  no  rede, 

But  fledde  awey  for  vcrrey  drede.      3860 

Than  Shame  cam  forth  ful  simply; 
She  wende  have  trespaced  ful  gretly; 
Humble  of  hir  port,  and  made  it  simple, 
Wering  a  vayle  in  stede  of  wimple, 
As  nonnis  doon  in  hir  abbey.  3865 

Bicause  hir  herte  was  in  affray, 
She  gan  to  speke,  within  a  throwe, 
To  lelousye,  right  wonder  lowe. 
First  of  his  grace  she  bisought. 
And  seide  :  — '  Sire,  ne  leveth  nought 
Wikkid-Tunge,  that  fals  espye,  387 1 

Which  is  so  glad  to  feyne  and  lye. 
He  hath  you  maad,  thurgh  flatering. 
On  Bialacoil  a  fals  lesing. 
His  falsnesse  is  not  now  anew,  3875 

It  is  to  long  that  he  him  knew. 
This  is  not  the  firste  day; 
For  Wikkid-Tunge  hath  custom  ay 
Yonge  folkis  to  bewreye. 
And  false  lesinges  on  hem  leye.  3880 

'  Yit  neverlhcles  I  see  among, 
That  the  loigne  it  is  so  longe 
Of  Bialacoil,  hertis  to  lure. 
In  Loves  servise  for  to  endure, 
Drawing  suche  folk  him  to,  3885 

That  he  had  no-thing  with  to  do; 
But  in  sothnessc  I  trowe  nought. 
That  Bialacoil  hadde  ever  in  thought 
To  do  trespace  or  vilanye; 
But,  for  his  modir  Curtesye  389° 

Hath  taught  him  ever  [for]  to  be 
Good  of  aqueynlaunce  and  privee; 
For  he  loveth  non  hevinesse. 
But  mirthe  and  pley,  and  al  gladnesse; 
He  hateth  alle  [trecherous],  3895 

Soleyn  folk  and  envious; 
For  [wel]  ye  witen  how  that  he 
Wol  ever  glad  and  loyful  be 
Honestly  with  folk  to  pley. 
I  have  be  negligent,  in  good  fey,       3900 
To  chastise  him;   therefore  now  I 
Of  herte  crye  you  here  mercy, 
That  I  have  been  so  recheles 
To  tamen  him,  withouten  lees. 
Of  my  foly  I  me  repente ;  39^5 

Now  wol  I  hool  sette  myn  entente 
To  kepe,  hothe  [loude]  and  stille, 
Bialacoil  to  do  your  wille.' 

'  Shame,  Shame,'  seyde  lelousy. 


'  To  be  bitrasshed  gret  drede  have  I. 

Lecherye  hath  clombe  so  hye,  391 1 

That  almost  lilered  is  myn  ye; 

No  wonder  is,  if  that  drede  have  I. 

Over-al  regnith  Lechery, 

Whos  might  [yit]  growith  night  and  day. 

Buthe  in  cloistre  and  in  abbey  3916 

Chastite  is  werreyed  over-al. 

Therfore  I  wol  with  siker  wal 

Close  bothe  roses  and  roser. 

I  have  to  longe  in  this  maner  3920 

Left  hem  unclosid  wilfully; 

Wherfore  I  am  right  inwardly 

Sorowful  and  repente  me. 

But  now  they  shal  no  lenger  be 

Unclosid;   and  yit  I  drede  sore,         3925 

I  shal  repente  ferthermore, 

For  the  game  goth  al  amis. 

Counsel  I  [mot  take]  newe,  y-wis. 

I  have  to  longe  tristed  thee. 

But  now  it  shal  no  lenger  be;  3930 

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  ful  entent 

Remedye  to  purveye.  3935 

Therfore  close  I  shal  the  weye 

Fro  hem  that  wol  the  rose  espye, 

And  come  to  wayte  me  vilanye, 

For,  in  good  feith  and  in  trouthe, 

I  wol  not  lette,  for  no  slouthe,  3940 

To  live  the  more  in  sikirnesse, 

[To]  make  anoon  a  forteresse, 

[To  enclose]  the  roses  of  good  savour. 

In  middis  shal  I  make  a  tour 

To  putte  Bialacoil  in  prisoun,  3945 

For  ever  I  drede  me  of  tresoun. 

I  trowe  I  shal  kepe  him  so. 

That  he  shal  have  no  might  to  go 

Aboute  to  make  companye 

To  hem  that  thenke  of  vilanye;  3950 

Ne  to  no  such  as  hath  ben  here 

Aforn,  and  founde  in  him  good  chere. 

Which  han  assajled  hini  to  shende. 

And  with  hir  t/5^7l(f)^^to  blende. 

A  fool  is  eyth  [forj  to  bigyle;  ' 3555 

But  may  I  lyve  a  litel  while. 

He  shal  forthenke  his  fair  semblaunt.' 

And  with  that  word  cam  Drede  avaunt, 
Wiiich  was  abasshed,  and  in  grct  fere. 
Whan  he  wiste  lelousye  was  there.  3960 
He  was  for  drede  in  such  affray, 
That  not  a  word  durste  he  say, 


3963-4064.] 


THE   ROM  AUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


39 


But  quaking  stood  ful  stille  aloon, 

Til  lelousye  his  wey  was  goon, 

Save  Shame,  that  him  not  forsook;    3965 

Bothe  Drede  and  she  ful  sore  quook; 

[TilJ  that  at  laste  Drede  abreyde, 

And  to  his  cosin  Shame  scyde  : 

'  Shame,'  he  seide,  '  in  sothfastnesse, 

To  me  it  is  gret  hevinesse,  397° 

That  the  noyse  so  fer  is  go, 

Antl  the  sclaandire  of  us  two. 

But  sith  that  it  is  [so]  bifalle, 

We  may  it  not  ageyn  [do]  calle, 

Whan  onis  sprolTjf<yrt  is  a  fame.  3975 

Por  many  a  yecr  withouten  blame    " 

We  han  been,  and  many  a  day; 

For  many  an  April  and  many  a  May 

We  han  [y]-passed,  not  [a]shamed, 

Til  lelousye  hath  us  blamed  39^0 

Of  mistrust  and  suspecioun 

Causeles,  withouten  enchesoun. 

Go  we  to  Daunger  hastily, 

And  late  us  shewe  him  openly,  3984 

That  he  hath  not  aright  [yj-wrought. 

Whan  that  he  setle  nought  his  thought 

To  kepe  better  the  purpryse  ; 

In  his  doing  he  is  not  wyse. 

He  hath  to  us  [y]-do  gret  wrong, 

That  hath  suffred  now  so  long  399° 

Bialacoil  to  have  his  wille, 

Alle  his  lustes  to  fulfille. 

He  must  amende  it  utterly, 

Or  ellis  shal  he  vilaynsly 

Exyled  be  out  of  this  londe  ;  3995 

For  he  the  werre  may  not  withstonde 

Of  lelousye,  nor  the  greef, 

Sith  Bialacoil  is  at  mischeef.' 

To  Daunger,  Shame  and  Drede  anoon 
The  righte  wey  ben  [bothe  a] -goon, 
The  cherl  they  founden  hem  aforn    4CX)I 
Ligging  undir  an  hawethorn. 
Undir  his  heed  no  pilowe  was. 
But  in  the  stede  a  trusse  of  gras. 
He  slombred,  and  a  nappe  he  took,  4005 
Til  Shame  pitously  him  shook. 
And  greet  manace  on  him  gan  make. 
'  Why   slepist    thou   whan    thou   shulde 

wake?' 
Quod  Shame  ;    '  thou  dost  us  vilanye  ! 
Who  tristith  thee,  he  doth  folye,        4010 
To  kepe  roses  or  botouns. 
Whan  they  ben  faire  in  hir  sesouns. 
Thou  art  woxe  to  familiere 
Where  thou  shulde  be  straunge  of  chere, 


4015 


Stout  of  thy  port,  redy  to  greve. 

Thou  dost  gret  foly  fcjr  to  leve 

Bialacoil  here-in,  to  calle 

The  yonder  man  to  shenden  us  alle. 

Though  that  thou  slcpe,  we  may  here 

Of  lelousie  gret  noyse  here.  4020 

Art  thou  now  late  ?  ryse  up  [in  hy], 

And  stoppe  sone  and  deliverly 

Alle  the  gappis  of  the  hay  ; 

Do  no  favour,  I  thee  pray. 

It  fallith  no-thing  to  thy  name  4025 

Make  fair  semblaunt,  where  thou  maist 

blame. 
'  If  Bialacoil  be  swete  and  free, 
Dogged  and  fel  thou  shuldist  be ; 
Froward  and  outrageous,  y-vvis  ; 
A  cherl  chaungeth  that  curteis  is.      4030 
This  have  I  herd  ofte  in  seying, 
That  man  [ne]  may,  for  no  daunting. 
Make  a  sperhauke  of  a  bosarde.  ^tyv^yi/}yi^^,^ 
Alle  men  wole  holde  thee  for  musarae,'^ 
That  debonair  have  founden  thee  ;    4035 
It  sit  thee  nought  curteis  to  be  ; 
To  do  men  plesaunce  or  servyse, 
In  thee  it  is  recreaundyse. 
Let  thy  werkis,  fer  and  nere. 
Be  lyke  thy  name,  which  is  Daungere.' 

Than,  al  abawid  in  shewing,  4041 

Anoon  spak  Dreed,  right  thus  seying, 
And  seide,  '  Daunger,  I  drede  me 
That  thou  ne  wolt  [not]  bisy  be 
To  kepe  that  thou  hast  to  kepe  ;       4045 
Whan    thou    shuldist    wake,    thou    art 

aslepe. 
Thou  shalt  be  greved  certeynly, 
If  thee  aspye  lelousy. 
Or  if  he  finde  thee  in  blame. 
He  hath  to-day  assailed  Shame,        4050 
And  chased  awey,  \a  ith  gret  manace, 
Bialacoil  out  of  this  place. 
And  swereth  shortly  that  he  shal 
Enclose  him  in  a  sturdy  wal  ; 
And  al  is  for  thy  wikkednesse,  4055 

For  that  thee  faileth  straungenesse. 
Thyn  herte,  I  trowe,  be  failed  al; 
Thou  shalt  repente  in  special. 
If  lelousye  the  sothe  knewe;  4059 

Thou  shalt  forthenke,  and  sore  rewe.' 
With   that   the    cherl    his   clubbe  gan 

shake, 
Frouning  his  eyen  gan  to  make, 
And  hidous  chere;   as  man  in  rage,        / 
For  ire  he  brente  in  his  visage. 


4° 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (R.) 


[4065-4 I 69. 


Whan  that  he  hereie  him  blamed  so,  4065 

He  seide,  '  Out  of  my  wit  I  go; 

To  be  (liscomlit  I  have  gret  wrong. 

Ccrtis,  I  have  now  lived  to  long, 

Sith  I  may  not  this  closer  kepe; 

Al  quik  I  wolde  l)e  dolven  depe,       4070 

If  any  man  shal  more  repeire 

Into  this  garden,  for  foule  or  faire. 

I\Iyn  herte  for  ire  goth  a-fere, 

That  I  lete  any  antra  here. 

I  have  do  foly,  now  I  see,  4^75 

But  now  it  shal  amended  bee. 

Who  seltith  foot  here  any  more. 

Truly,  he  shal  repente  it  sore; 

P'or  no  man  mo  into  this  place 

Of  me  to  entre  shal  have  grace.        4080 

Lever  I  hadde,  with  swerdis  tweyne 

Thurgh-out  niyn  herte,  in  every  veyne 

Perced  to  be,  with  many  a  wounde. 

Than  slouthe  shulde  in  me  be  founde. 

From  hennesforth,  by  night  or  day,  4085 

I  shal  defende  it,  if  I  may, 

Withouten  any  excepcioun 

Of  ech  maner  condicioun; 

And  if  I  any  man  it  graunte, 

Holdeth  me  for  recreaunte.'  4090 

Than  Daunger"bn  tuTTeet  gan  stonde. 
And  hente  a  burdoun  in  his  honde. 
Wroth  in  his  ire,  ne  lefte  he  nought. 
But  thurgh  the  verger  he  hath  sought. 
If  he  might  linde  hole  or  trace,         4095 
Wher-thurgh    that    men    mot     forth-by 

pace, 
Or  any  gappe,  he  dide  it  close, 
That  no  man  mighte  touche  a  rose 
Of  the  roser  al  aboute; 
He  shitteth  every  man  withoute.       4100 

Thus  day  by  day  Daunger  is  wers. 
More  wondirful  and  more  divers, 
And  feller  eek  than  ever  he  was; 
For  him  ful  oft  I  singe  '  alias ! ' 
For  I  ne  may  nought,  thurgh  his  ire,  4105 
Recover  that  I  most  desire. 
Myn  herte,  alias,  wol  brest  a-two, 
P'or  Bialacoil  I  wratthed  so. 
For  certeynly,  in  every  membre 
I  quake,  whan  I  me  remembre  41 10 

Of  the  botoun,  which  [that]  I  wolde 
Fulle  ofte  a  day  seen  and  biholde. 
And  whan  I  thenke  upon  the  kisse. 
And  how  muche  loye  and  blisse 
I  hadde  thurgh  the  savour  swete,      41 15 
For  wante  of  it  I  grone  and  grate. 


Me  thenkith  I  fele  yit  in  my  nose 

The  swete  savour  of  the  rose. 

And  now  I  woot  that  I  mot  go 

So  fer  the  fresshe  floures  fro,  4 1 20 

To  me  ful  welcome  were  the  deeth; 

Absens  therof,  alias,  me  sleeth  ! 

For  whylom  with  this  rose,  alias, 

I  touched  nose,  mouth,  and  face; 

But  now  the  deeth  I  must  abyde.      4125 

But  Love  consente,  another  tyde, 

That  onis  I  touche  may  and  kisse, 

I  trowe  my  peyne  shal  never  lisse. 

Theron  is  al  my  coveityse. 

Which  brent  myn  herte  in  many  wyse. 

Now  shal  repaire  agayn  sighinge,      4131 

Long  wacche  on  nightis,  and  no  slepinge; 

Thought  in  wisshing,  torment,  and  wo, 

With  many  a  turning  to  and  fro, 

That  half  my  peyne  I  can  not  telle.  4135 

For  I  am  fallen  into  helle 

From  paradys  and  welthe,  the  more 

My  turment  greveth ;  more  and  more 

Anoyeth  now  the  bittirnesse. 

That  I  toforn  have  felt  swetnesse 

And  Wikkid-Tunge,  thurgh  hiyTalshed 

Causeth  al  my  wo  and  drede 

On  me  ha  leyeth  a  pitous  charge, 

Bicause  his  tunge  was  to  large. 

Now  it  is  tyme,  shortly  that  I         4145 
Telle  you  som-thing  of  lelousy, 
That  was  in  gret  suspecioun. 
Aboufe  him  lefte  he  no  masoun. 
That  stoon  coude  leye,  ne  querrour;^J'r(*^- 
He  hired  hem  to  make  a  tour.  4150 

And  first,  the  roses  for  to  kepe, 
Aboute  hem  made  he  a  diche  depe, 
Right  wondir  large,  and  also  brood; 
Upon  the  whiche  also  stood 
Of  squared  stoon  a  sturdy  wal,  4^55 

Which  on  a  cragge  was  founded  al, 
And  right  gret  thikkenesse  eek  it  bar. 
Abouten,  it  was  founded  squar. 
An  hundred  fadome  on  every  syde, 
It  was  al  liche  longe  and  wyde.         4160 
Lest  any  tyme  it  were  assayled, 
Ful  wel  aboute  it  was  batayled ; 
And  rounde  enviroun  eek  were  set 
Ful  many  a  riche  and  fair  touret. 
At  every  corner  of  this  wal  4165 

Was  set  a  tour  ful  principal ; 
And  everich  hadde,  withoute  fable, 
A  porte-colys  defensable 
To  kepe  of  enemies,  and  to  greve, 


'■{ 


4170-4272.] 


THE   ROM  AD.        OF  T  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


43 


That  there  hir  force  wolde  preve. 
And  eek  amitkle  this  jiurpryse 
^Vas  niaad  a  tuur  of  gret  uiaistryse; 
A  fairer  saugh  no  man  with  sight, 
Large  and  wyde,  and  of  gret  might. 


4170 


4175 


Tiiey  [ne]  dredde  noon  assaut 

Of  ginnc,  gunne,  nor  skaffaut. 

[I'oi]  the  temprure  of  the  mortere 

\\'as  niaad  of  Hcour  wonder  dere; 

t)f  (juikke  lyme  persant  and  egre,      4179 

The  which  was  tempred  with  vinegre. 

The  stoon  was  hard  [as]  ademant, 

Wiierof  they  made  the  foundement. 

The  tour  was  rounde,  maad  in  conipas; 

In  al  tliis  world  no  richer  was, 

Ne  better  ordeigned  therwithal.         4185 

Aljoute  tlie  tour  was  maad  a  wal, 

So  that,  bitwixt  that  and  the  tour, 

Kosers  were  set  of  swete  sav(,)ur. 

With  many  roses  that  they  here. 

And  eek  within  the  castel  were  4190 

Springoldes,  gunnes,  bows,  archers; 

And  eek  above,  atte  corners. 

Men  seyn  over  the  walle  stonde 

Crete     engynes,     [whiche]     were     nigh 

honde; 
And  in  the  kernels,  here  and  there,  4195 
Of  armast^s  gret  plentee  were. 
Noon    armure    might    hir    stroke    vvith- 

stonde,        p,^ 
It  were  foly  to  prece  to  honde.  4198 

Without  the  diche  were  listes  made, 
With  walles  batayled  large  and  brade, 
For  men  and  hors  shulde  not  atteyne 
To  neigh  the  diche  over  the  pleyne. 
Thus  lelousye  hath  enviroun 
Set  aboute  his  garnisoun  4204 

W'ith  walks  rounde,  and  diche  depe, 
Only  the  roser  for  to  kepe. 
And  Daunger  [eek],  erly  and  late 
The  keyes  kepte  of  the  utter  gate, 
The  which  openeth  toward  the  eest. 
And  he  hadde  with  him  atte  leest     4210 
Thritty  servauntes,  echon  by  name. 

That  other  gate  kepte  Shame, 
Which  openede,  as  it  was  couth, 
Toward  the  parte  of  the  south. 
Sergeauntes  assigned  were  hir  to       4215 
Ful  many,  hir  wille  for  to  do.  .  y 

Than  Drede  hadde  in  hir  baillye4twi;/ii|;  j^ 
The  keping  of  the  conestablerye,     ' 
Toward  the  north,  I  undirstonde,\ 
That  opened  upon  the  left  honde,     4220 


The  which  foiout  of  youoiay  be  sure,  -;o 

But-if  she  do  [h-.-?r  bef>'   cure 

Erly  on  morowe  anA"  also  late. 

Strongly  to  shette  and  barre  the  gate. 

Of  every  thing  that  she  may  see         4225 

Drede  is  aferd,  wher-so  she  be; 

For  with  a  puff  of  litcl  winde 

Drede  is  astonied  in  hir  minde. 

Therfore,  for  stelinge  of  the  rose, 

I  rede  hir  nought  the  yate  unclose.  4230 

A  foulis  flight  wol  make  hir  flee. 

And  eek  a  shadowe,  if  she  it  see. 

Thanne  Wikked-Tunge,  ful  of  envye, 
With  soudiours  of  Normandye, 
As  he  that  causeth  al  the  bate,  4235 

Was  keper  of  the  fourthe  gate, 
And  also  to  the  tother  three 
He  went  ful  ofte,  for  to  see. 
Whan  his  lot  was  to  wake  a-night, 
His  instrumentis  wolde  he  dight,       4240 
For  to  blowe  and  make  soun, 
Ofter  than  he  hath  enchesoun; 
And  walken  oft  upon  the  wal, 
Corners  and  wikettis  over-al 
P"ul  narwe  serchen  and  espye  ;  4245 

Though  he  nought  fond,  yit  wolde  hejye. 
Discordaunt  ever  fro  armonye, 
And  distoned  from  melodye, 
Controve  he  wolde,  and  foule  fayle, 
With  horiijiypes  of  Cornewayle.         4250 
In  floyi^sTiiade  he  discordaunce. 
And  in  his  musik,  with  mischaunce, 
He  wolde  seyn,  with  notes  nevve. 
That  he  [ne]  fond  no  womman  trewe, 
Ne  that  he  saugh  never,  in  his  lyf,    4255 
Unto  hir  husbonde  a  trewe  wyf ; 
Ne  noon  so  ful  of  honestee, 
That  she  nil  laughe  and  mery  be 
Whan  that  she  hereth,  or  may  espye, 
A  man  speken  of  lecherye.  4260 

Everich  of  hem  hath  somme  vyce; 
Con  is  dishonest,  another  is  nyce; 
If  oon  be  ful  of  vilanye,  ,        Q 

Another  hath  a  likerous  ye;    |'€,tJ6Lrtn*-J' 
If  oon  be  ful  of  wantonesse,  4265 

Another  is  a  chideresse. 

Thus  Wikked-Tunge  (god   yeve   him 
shame  !) 
Can  putte  hem  everichone  in  blame 
Withoute  desert  and  causeles; 
He  lyeth,  though  they  been  giltles.  4270 
I  have  pite  to  seen  the  sorwe. 
That  waketh  bothe  eve  and  morwe. 


Avw  <><JLuh/v 


40 


THE   ROMAUNT  .'i^   qf  tHE   ROSE.     (B.)  [4273-4376. 


W        .  -'le  him  hlamf 

TT    lo  innocents  dv         .,  ,    .evaunce; 

I      J  ,  ^ly  wit  If, 

I  pray  god  yevc  ,.  ^         ol  chaunce, 

That  he  ever  so  bisy'is  4^75 

Of  any  womnian  to  seyn  amis  ! 

Eek  lelousye  god  confounde, 
That  hath  [y]-maad  a  tour  so  rounde, 
And  made  aboute  a  garisoun 
To  sette  Bialacoil  in  prisoun;  4280 

'i'he  which  is  shet  there  in  the  tour, 
I'ul  longc  to  holde  there  soiour,^j<^ 
There  for  to  Hven  in  penaunce. 
And  for  to  ilo  him  more  grevaunce, 
[Ther]  hath  ordeyned  lelousye  4285 

An  olde  ^t^t<f^,  for  to  espye 
The  inaner  of  his  governaunce; 
The  whiche  devel,  in  hir  enfaunce, 
Had  lerned  [muciie]  of  Loves  art, 
And  of  his  pleyes  took  hir  part;         4290 
She  was  [expert]  in  his  servyse. 
She  knew  ech  wrenche  and  every  gyse 
Of  love,  and  every  [loveres]  wyle, 
It  was  [the]  harder  hir  to  gyle. 
Of  Bialacoil  she  took  ay  hede,  4295 

That  ever  he  liveth  in  wo  and  drede. 
He  kepte  him  coy  and  eek  privee. 
Lest  in  him  she  hadde  see 
Any  foly  countenaunce, 
For  she  knew  al  the  olde  daunce.      4300 
And  aftir  this,  whan  lelousye 
Had  Bialacoil  in  his  baillye, 
And  shette  him  up  that  was  so  free. 
For  seure  of  him  he  wokle  be, 
He  trusteth  sore  in  his  castel;  4305 

The  stronge  werk  him  lyketh  wel. 
He  dradde  nat  that  no  glotouns 
Shulde  stele  his  roses  or  botouns. 
The  roses  weren  assured  alle, 
Defenced  with  the  stronge  walle.       4310 
Now  lelousye  ful  wel  may  be 
Of  drede  devoid,  in  libertee, 
Whether  that  he  slepe  or  wake; 
For  of  his  roses  may  noon  be  take. 

15ut  \,  alias,  now  morne  shal;         4315 
Bicause  I  was  without  the  wal, 
Ful  moche  dole  and  mone  I  made. 
Who  hadde  wist  what  wo  I  hadde, 
I  trowe  he  wolde  have  had  pitee. 
Love  to  decre  had  sold  to  me  4320 

The  good  that  of  his  love  hadde  L 
I  [wende  a  bought]  it  al  queyntly; 
But  now,  thurgh  doubling  of  my  peyn, 
I  see  he  wolde  it  selle  ageyn, 
And  me  a  newe  bargeyn  lere,  4325 


The  which  al-out  the  more  is  dere, 

For  the  solace  that  I  have  lorn, 

Than  I  hadde  it  never  aforn. 

Ccrtayn  I  am  ful  lyk,  indeed. 

To  him  that  cast  in  erthe  his  seed  ;  4330 

And  hath  loie  of  the  newe  spring, 

Wiian  it  greneth  in  the  ginning. 

And  is  also  fair  and  fresh  of  flour, 

Lusty  to  seen,  swote  of  odour; 

But  er  he  it  in  sheves  shere,  4335 

May  falle  a  weder  that  shal  it  dere. 

And  maken  it  to  fade  and  falle. 

The  stalk,  the  greyn,  and  floures  alle; 

That  to  the  tilier  is  forilone 

The  hope  that  he  hadde  to  sone.       4340 

I  drede,  certeyn,  that  so  fare  I; 

For  hope  and  travaile  sikerly 

]]en  me  biraft  al  with  a  storm; 

The  floure  nil  seden  of  my  corn. 

For  Love  hath  so  avaunced  me,         4345 

Whan  I  bigan  my  privitee  n 

To  Bialacoil  al  for  to  telle,  ■^V- 

Whom  I  ne  fond  frovvard  ne  felle,(/ 

But  took  a-gree  al  hool  my  play. 

But  Love  is  of  so  hard  assay,   ^J     4A50 

That  al  at  onis  he  reved  me,  yi  T^   ^ 

Whan  I  wend  best  aboven  have  be. 

It  is  of  Love,  as  of  Fortune, 

That  chaungeth  ofte,  and  nil  contune; 

Which  whylom  wol  on  folke  smyle,  4355 

And  gloumbe  on  hem  another  whyle; 

Now  freend,  now  foo,  [thou]  shalt   hir 

fele, 
For  [in]  a  twinkling  tourneth  hir  wheel. 
She  can  wrythe  hir  heed  awey. 
This  is  the  concours  of  hir  pley;        4360 
She  can  areyse  that  doth  morne. 
And  whirle  adown,  and  overturne 
Who  sittith  heighst,  [al]  as  hir  list; 
A  fool  is  he  that  wol  hir  trist. 
For  it  [am]  I  that  am  com  doun       4 
Thurgh  change  and  revolucioun  ! 
Sith  Bialacoil  mot  fro  me  twinne,  (^tf^ 
Shet  in  the  prisoun  yond  withinne, 
His  absence  at  myn  herte  I  fele; 
For  al  my  loye  and  al  myn  hele        4370 
Was  in  him  and  in  the  rose. 
That    but  yon    [wal],  which   him    doth 

close, 
Open,  that  I  may  him  see. 
Love  nil  not  that  I  cured  be 
Of  the  peynes  that  I  endure,  4375 

Nor  of  my  cruel  aventure, 


4377-4476] 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


43 


A,  Bialacoil,  myn  owne  dere ! 
Though  thou  be  now  a  prisonere, 
Kepe  atte  leste  thyn  herte  to  me, 
And  sufTre  not  that  it  daunted  be;     4380 
Ne  lat  not  lelousye,  in  his  rage, 
I'utten  thyn  herte  in  no  servage. 
Although  he  chastice  thee  withoute.       V 
And  make  thy  body  unto  him  loutey-"' 
Have  herte  as  hard  as  dyamaunt,      4385 
Steilefast,  and  nought  pliaunt; 
In  prisuun  though  thy  body  be, 
At  large  kepe  thyn  herte  free. 
A  trewe  herte  wol  not  plye 
For  no  manace  that  it  may  drye.       4390 
If  lelousye  doth  thee  payne, 
Quyte  him  his  whyle  thus  agayne, 
To  venge  thee,  atte  leest  in  thought. 
If  other  way  thou  mayest  iiought; 
And  in  this'wyse  sotilly  ^^?<t'^         4395 
Worche,  and  winne  the  maistry. 
But  yit  I  am  in  gret  affray 
Lest  thou  do  not  as  I  say; 
I  drede  thou  canst  me  greet  maugree, 
That  thou  emprisoned  art  for  me;     4400 
But  that  [is]  not  for  my  trespas. 
For  thurgh  me  never  discovered  was 
Yit  thing  that  oughte  be  secree. 
Wei  more  anoy  [ther]  is  in  me, 
Than  is  in  thee,  of  this  mischaunce;  4405 
For  I  endure  more  hard  penaunce 
Than  any  [man]  can  seyn  or  thinke, 
That  for  the  sorwe  almost  I  sinke. 
Whan  I  remembre  me  of  my  wo, 
Ful  nygh  out  of  my  wit  I  go.  44 10 

Inward  myn  herte  I  fele  blede. 
For  comfortles  the  deeth  I  drede. 
Ow  I  not  wel  to  have  distresse. 
Whan  false,  thurgh  hir  wikkednesse. 
And  traitours,  that  am  envyous,        4415 
To  noyen  me  be  so  coragious? 

A,  Bialacoil !   ful  wel  I  see. 
That  they  hem  shape  to  disceyve  thee, 
To  make  thee  buxom  to  hir  lawe, 
And  with  hir  corde  thee  to  drawe     4420 
Wher-so  hem  lust,  right  at  hir  wil; 
I  drede  they  have  thee  brought  thertilijy.V 
Withoute  comfort,  thought  me  sleeth*^  ' 
This  game  wol  bringe  me  to  my  deeth. 
For  if  your  gode  wille  I  lese,  4425 

I  mote  be  deed;    I  may  not  chese. 
And  if  that  thou  foryete  me, 
Myn  herte  shal  never  in  lyking  be; 
Nor  elles-where  finde  solace. 


If  I  be  put  out  of  your  grace. 
As  it  shal  never  been,  I  hope; 
Than  shulde  I  fallen  in  wanhope. 


4430 


\^/Iere,  at  1.  4070  of  the  French  text, 
ends  the  work  of  G.  de  Lorris;  and 
begins  the  work  of  ]ea.n  de  Meum.J 

Alias,  in  wanhope?  — nay,  pardee  ! 
For  I  wol  never  dispeired  be. 
If  Hope  me  faile,  than  am  I  4435 

Ungracious  and  unworthy; 
In  Hope  I  wol  comforted  be. 
For  Love,  whan  he  bitaught  hir  me, 
Seide,  that  Hope,  wher-so  I  go, 
Shulde  ay  be  relees  to  my  wo.  444° 

But  what  and  she  my  ^h?>bete. 
And  be  to  me  curteis  and^wete? 
She  is  in  no-thing  ful  certeyn. 
Lovers  she  put  in  ful  gret  peyn, 
And  makith  hem  with  wo  to  dele.     4445 
Hir  fair  biheest  discevveth  fele, 
For  she  wol  biK(Jt^-^irly, 
And  failen  aftir  outrely. 
A  !   that  is  a  ful  noyous  thing! 
For  many  a  lover,  in  loving,  445° 

Hangeth  upon  hir,  and  trusteth  fast, 
Whiche  lese  hir  travel  at  the  last. 
Of  thing  to  comen  she  woot  right  nought; 
Therfore,  if  it  be  wysly  sought, 
Hir  counseille,  foly  is  to  take.  4455 

For  many  tymes,  whan  she  wol  make 
A  ful  good  silogisme,  I  drede 
That  aftirward  ther  shal  in  dede 
Folwe  an  evel  conclusioun; 
This  put  me  in  confusioun.  4460 

For  many  tymes  I  have  it  seen, 
That  many  have  bigyled  been. 
For  trust  that  they  have  set  in  Hope, 
Which  fel  hem  aftirward  a-slope.      4464 

But  natheles  yit,  gladly  she  wolde. 
That  he,  that  wol  him  with  hir  holde, 
Hadde  alle  tymes  [his]  purpos  clere, 
Withoute  deceyte,  or  any  were. 
That  she  desireth  sikirly; 
Whan  I  hir  blamed,  I  did  foly.  4470 

But  what  avayleth  hir  good  wille. 
Whan  she  ne  may  staunche  my  stounde 

ille? 
That  helpith  litel,  that  she  may  do, 
Outake  biheest  unto  my  wo. 
And  heeste  certeyn,  in  no  wyse,        4475 
Withoute  yift,  is  not  to  pryse. 


44 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[4477-45S2. 


Whan  heest  and  deed  a-sundir  varie, 
They  doon  [me  have]  a  gret  contrarie. 
Thus  am  I  possed  up  and  doun 
With  dool,  thought,  and  confusioun; 
Of  my  disese  ther  is  no  noumbre.      4481 
Dauiiger  and  Shame  me  encumbre, 
Drede  also,  and  lelousye. 
And  Wikked-Tunge,  ful  of  envye. 
Of  whiche  the  sharpe  and  cruel  ire   4485 
Ful  oft  me  put  in  gret  martire. 
'I'hey  han  my  loye  fully  let, 
Sith  Bialacoil  they  have  bishet 
P'ro  me  in  prisoun  wikkidly, 
Whom  I  love  so  entierly,  449° 

That  it  wol  my  bane  be, 
But  I  the  soner  may  him  see. 
And  yit  moreover,  wurst  of  alle, 
Ther  is  set  to  kepe,  foule  hir  bifalle  ! 
A  rimpled  vekke,  fer  ronne  in  age,  4495 
Frowning  and  yelowe  in  hir  visage, 
Which  in  awayte  lyth  day  and  night, 
That  noon  of  hem  may  have  a  sight. 
Now  moot  my  sorwe  enforced  be; 
Ful  soth  it  is,  that  Love  yaf  me         4500 
Three  wonder  yiftes  of  his  grace, 
Which  I  have  lorn  now  in  this  place, 
Sith  they  ne  may,  withoute  drede, 
Helpen  but  litel,  who  taketh  hede.    4504 
For  here  availeth  no  Swete-Thought, 
And  Svvete-Speche  helpith  right  nought. 
The  thridde  was  called  Swete-Loking, 
That  now  is  lorn,  without  lesing. 
[The]  yiftes  were  fair,  but  not  forthy 
They  helpe  me  but  simply,  4510 

But  Bialacoil  [may]  loosed  be, 
To  gon  at  large  and  to  be  free. 
For  him  my  lyf  lyth  al  in  dout, 
But-if  he  come  the  rather  out. 
Alias!   I  trowe  it  wol  not  been!         4515 
For  how  shuld  I  evermore  him  seen  ? 
He  may  not  out,  and  that  is  wrong, 
Bicause  the  tour  is  so  strong. 
How  shulde  he  out  ?  by  whos  prowesse, 
Out  of  so  strong  a  forteresse  ?  4520 

By  me,  certeyn,  it  nil  be  do; 
God  woot,  I  have  no  wit  therto  ! 
But  wel  I  woot  I  was  in  rage. 
Whan  I  to  Love  dide  homage. 
Who  was  in  cause,  in  sothfastnesse,  4525 
But  hir-silf,  dame  Idelnesse, 
Which  me  conveyed,  thurgh  fair  prayere, 
To  entre  into  that  fair  vergere  ? 
She  was  to  blame  me  to  leve, 


The  which  now  doth  me  sore  greve.  4530 

A  foolis  word  is  nought  to  trowe, 

Ne  worth  an  a]ipel  for  to  lowe  ; 

Men  shulde  him  snibbe  bittirly, 

At  pryme  temps  of  his  foly. 

I  was  a  fool,  and  she  me  leved,  4535 

Thurgh  whom  I  am  right  nought  releved. 

She  accomplisshed  al  my  wil. 

That  now  me  greveth  vvondir  il. 

Resoun  me  seide  v/hat  shulde  falle. 

A  fool  my-silf  I  may  wel  calle,  4540 

That  love  asyde  I  had  not  leyde. 

And  trowed  that  dame  Resoun  seyde. 

Resoun  had  bothe  skile  and  right, 

Whan  she  me  blamed,  with  al  hir  might, 

To  medle  of  love,  that  hath  me  shent; 

But  certeyn  now  I  wol  repent.  4546 

'And  shulde  I  repent  ?     Nay  parde  ! 
A  fals  traitour  than  shulde  I  be. 
The  develles  engins  wolde  me  take, 
If  I  my  [lorde]  wolde  forsake,  455° 

Or  Bialacoil  falsly  bitraye. 
Shulde  I  at  mischeef  hate  him  ?  nay, 
Sith  he  now,  for  his  curtesye, 
Is  in  prisoun  of  lelousye. 
Curtesye  certeyn  dide  he  me,  4555 

So  muche,  it  may  not  yolden  be, 
Whan  he  the  hay  passen  me  lete, 
To  kisse  the  rose,  faire  and  swete; 
Shulde  I  therfore  cunne  him  maugree  ? 
Nay,  certeynly,  it  shal  not  be;  4560 

For  Love  shal  never,  [if  god  wil], 
Here  of  me,  thurgh  word  or  wil. 
Offence  or  complaynt,  more  or  lesse, 
Neither  of  Hope  nor  Idilnesse; 
For  certis,  it  were  wrong  that  I  4565 

Hated  hem  for  hir  curtesye. 
Ther  is  not  ellis,  but  suffre  and  thinke. 
And  waken  whan  I  shulde  winke; 
Abyde  in  hope,  til  Love,  thurgh  chaunce, 
Sende  me  socour  or  allegeaunce,       4570 
Expectant  ay  til  I  may  mete 
To  geten  mercy  of  that  swete. 

'  Whylom  I  thinke  how  Love  to  me 
Seyde  he  wolde  taken  atte  gree 
My  servise,  if  unpacience  4575 

Caused  me  to  doon  offence. 
He  seyde,  "  In  thank  I  shal  it  take. 
And  high  maister  eek  thee  make. 
If  wikkednesse  ne  reve  it  thee; 
But  sone,  I  trowe,  that  shal  not  be." 
These  were  his  wordis  by  and  by;     4581 
It  semed  he  loved  me  trewly. 


4583-4678.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


45 


Now  is  ther  not  but  serve  him  wele, 

If  that  I  thinke  his  thank  to  fele. 

My  good,  myn  harm,  lyth  hool  in  me; 

In  Love  may  no  dcfaute  be;  45^^ 

For  trevve  Love  ne  failid  never  man. 

Suthly,  the  faute  mot  nedis  than 

(As  God  forbede  !)  be  founde  in  me. 

And  how  it  Cometh,  I  can  not  see.    4590 

Now  lat  it  goon  as  it  may  go ; 

Whether  Love  vvol  socoure  me  or  slo, 

He  may  do  hool  on  me  his  wil. 

I  am  so  sore  bounde  him  til. 

From  his  servyse  I  may  not  fleen;     4595 

For  lyf  and  deth,  withouten  wone, 

Is  in  his  hand;    I  may  not  chese; 

He  may  me  do  bothe  winne  and  lese. 

And  sith  so  sore  he  doth  me  greve, 

Vit,  if  my  lust  he  wolde  acheve  4600 

To  Bialacoil  goodly  to  be, 

I  yeve  no  force  what  felle  on  me. 

P'or  though  I  dye,  as  I  mot  nede, 

I  praye  Love,  of  his  goodlihede, 

To  Bialacoil  do  gentilnesse,  4605 

For  whom  I  live  in  such  distresse, 

That  I  mote  deyen  for  penaunce. 

But  first,  withoute  repentaunce, 

I  wol  me  confesse  in  good  entent, 

And  make  in  haste  my  testament,      4610 

As  lovers  doon  that  felen  smerte :  — 

To  Bialacoil  leve  I  myn  herte 

Al  hool,  withoute  departing, 

Or  doublenesse  of  repenting.' 

COMENT   RAISOUN   VIENT  A 
L'AMANT. 

Thus  as  I  made  my  passage  4(^15 

In  compleynt,  and  in  cruel  rage, 
Anil  I  not  wher  to  fnide  a  leche 
That  couthe  unto  myn  helping  eche, 
Sodeynly  agayn  comen  doun 
Out  of  hir  tour  I  saugh  Resoun,         4620 
Discrete  and  wys,  and  ful  plesaunt, 
And  of  hir  porte  ful  avenaunt. 
The  righte  wey  she  took  to  me. 
Which  stood  in  greet  perplexite, 
That  was  posshed  in  every  side,         4625 
That  I  nist  where  I  might  abyde, 
Til  she,  demurely  sad  of  chere, 
Seide  to  me  as  she  com  nere  :  — 

'  Myn  owne  freend,  art  thou  yit  greved  ? 
How  is  this  quarel  yit  acheved  4630 

Of  Loves  syde?     Anoon  me  telle; 


Hast  thou  not  yit  of  love  thy  fiUe? 
.\rt  thou  not  wery  of  thy  servyse 
Tliat  thee  hath  [pynetl]  in  sich  wyse? 
What  loye  hast  thou  in  thy  loving? 
Is  it  swete  or  bitter  thing?  4636 

t'anst  thou  yit  chese,  lat  me  see. 
What  l^est  thy  socour  mighte  be? 

'Thou  servest  a  ful  noble  lord. 
That  maketh  thee  thral  for  thy  reward, 
Which  ay  renewith  thy  turment,        4641 
With  foly  so  he  hath  thee  blent. 
Thou  felle  in  mischecf  thilke  day. 
Whan  thou  didest,  the  sothe  to  say, 
Obeysaunce  and  eek  homage;  4645 

Thou  wroughtest  no-thing  as  the  sage. 
Whan  thou  bicam  his  liege  man, 
'I'hou  didist  a  gret  foly  than ; 
Thou  wistest  not  what  fel  therto. 
With  what  lord  thou  haddist  to  do.  4650 
If  thou  haddist  him  wel  knowe. 
Thou  haddist  nought  be  brought  so  lowe; 
For  if  thou  wistest  what  it  were. 
Thou  noldist  serve  him  half  a  yeer, 
Not  a  weke,  nor  half  a  day,  4^55 

Ne  yit  an  hour  withoute  delay, 
Ne  never  [han]  loved  paramours, 
His  lordship  is  so  ful  of  shoures. 
Knowest  him  ought?' 

n Ainaunt.     '  Ye,  dame,  parde  ! ' 

Raisoiin.     '  Nay,  nay.' 

VAmatint.     'Yes,  I.' 

Raisoiin.     '  Whereof,  lat  see?'      4660 

nAniaimt.      '  Of     that    he    seyde    I 
shulde  be 
Glad  to  have  sich  lord  as  he. 
And  maister  of  sich  seignory.' 

KaisoiDi.     '  Knowist  him  no  more?' 

L\li/tatiut.  'Nay,  certis,  I, 

Save  that  he  yaf  me  rewles  there,      4665 
And  wente  his  wey,  I  niste  where. 
And  I  abood  bounde  in  balaunce.' 

Raisoun.     '  Lo,   there    a    noble    coni- 
saunce ! 
But  I  wil  that  thou  knowe  him  now 
Ginning  and  ende,  sith  that  thou       4O70 
Art  so  anguisshous  and  mate, 
Disfigured  out  of  astate; 
Ther  may  no  wrecche  have  more  of  wo, 
Ne  caitif  noon  enduren  so. 
It  were  to  every  man  sitting  4^75 

Of  his  lord  have  knowleching. 
For  if  thou  knewe  him,  out  of  dout, 
Lightly  thou  shulde  escapen  out 


46 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (15.) 


[4679-4781. 


Of  the  prisoun  that  niarreth  thee.' 

J.' Aiiiaunt.     '  Ye,  dame  !  sith  my  lord 
is  he,  4680 

And  I  his  man,  maad  with  myii  honde, 
I  wolde  rif^ht  fayn  undirstonde 
To  knovven  of  what  kinde  he  be, 
If  any  wolde  enforme  me.' 

Raisoun.      'I    wolde,'    seid    Resoun, 
'  thee  lere,  46^5 

Sith  thou  to  lerne  hast  sich  desire, 
Ami  shewe  thee,  withouten  fable, 
A  tiling  that  is  not  demonstrable. 
Thou  shalt  [here  lerne]  without  science, 
And  knowe,  withoute  experience,      4690 
The  thing  that  may  not  knowen  be, 
Ne  wist  ne  shewid  in  no  degree. 
Thou  mayst  the  sothe  of  it  not  witen, 
Though  in  thee  it  were  writen. 
Thou  shalt  not  knowe  therof  more    4695 
Whyle  thou  art  reuled  by  his  lore; 
]5ut  unto  him  that  love  wol  flee, 
The  knotte  may  unclosed  be. 
Which  hath  to  thee,  as  it  is  founde, 
So  long  be  knet  and  not  unbounde.  4700 
Now  sette  wel  thyn  entencioun. 
To  here  of  love  discripcioun. 

'  Love,  it  is  an  hateful  pees, 
A  free  acquitaunce,  without  relees, 
[A  trouthe],  fret  full  of  falshede,       4705 
A  sikernesse,  al  set  in  drede; 
In  herte  is  a  dispeiring  hope. 
And  fulle  of  hope,  it  is  wanhope; 
Wyse  woodnesse,  and  wood  resoun, 
A  swete  peril,  in  to  droune,  47 lO 

An  hevy  birthen,  light  to  bere, 
A  wikked  wawe  awey  to  were. 
It  is  Caribdis  perilous, 
Disagreable  and  gracious. 
It  is  discordaunce  that  can  accorde, 
And  accordaunce  to  discorde.  47^6 

It  is  cunning  withoute  science, 
Wisdom  withoute  sapience, 
Wit  withoute  discrecioun, 
Ilavoir,  withoute  possessioun.  4720 

It  is  sike  hele  and  hool  siknesse, 
A  thrust  drowned  [in]  dronkenesse. 
An  helthe  ful  of  maladye. 
And  charitee  ful  of  envye, 
An  [hunger]  ful  of  habundaunce,     4725 
And  a  gredy  suffisaunce; 
Delyt  right  ful  of  hevinesse. 
And  drerihed  ful  of  gladnesse; 
Bitter  swetnesse  and  swete  errour, 


Right  eve!  savoured  good  savour;     4730 
Sinne  that  pardoun  hath  withinne. 
And    pardoun    spotted    without    [with] 

sinne; 
A  peyne  also  it  is,  loyous, 
And  felonye  right  pitous; 
Also  pley  that  selde  is  stable,  4735 

And  stedefast  [stat],  right  mevable; 
A  strengthe,  weyked  to  stonde  upright, 
And  feblenesse,  ful  of  might; 
Wit  unavysed,  sage  folye, 
And  loye  ful  of  turmentrye;  474° 

A  laughter  it  is,  weping  ay, 
Rest,  tiiat  traveyleth  night  and  day; 
Also  a  swete  helle  it  is, 
And  a  sorowful  Faradys; 
A  plesaunt  gayl  and  esy  prisoun,       4745 
And,  ful  of  froste,  somer  sesoun; 
Pryme  temps,  ful  of  frostes  whyte, 
And  May,  devoide  of  al  delyte. 
With  seer  braunches,  blossoms  ungrene; 
And  newe  fruyt,  tillid  with  winter  tene. 
It  is  a  slowe,  may  not  forbere  475 1 

Ragges,  ribaned  with  gold,  to  were; 
P"or  al-so  wel  wol  love  be  set 
Under  ragges  as  riche  rochet; 
And  eek  as  wel  be  amourettes  4755 

In  mourning  blak,  as  bright  burnettes. 
For  noon  is  of  so  mochel  prys, 
Ne  no  man  founden  [is]  so  wys, 
Ne  noon  so  high  is  of  parage, 
Ne  no  man  founde  of  wit  so  sage,     4760 
No  man  so  hardy  ne  so  wight, 
Ne  no  man  of  so  mochel  might, 
Noon  so  fulfilled  of  bounte, 
[But]  he  with  love  may  daunted  be. 
Al  the  world  holdith  this  way;  47^5 

Love  makith  alle  to  goon  miswey, 
But  it  be  they  of  yvel  lyf, 
Whom  Genius  cursith,  man  and  wyf, 
That  wrongly  werke  ageyn  nature. 
Noon  suche  I  love,  ne  have  no  cure  4770 
Of  suche  as  Loves  servaunts  been, 
And  wol  not  by  my  counsel  fleen. 
For  I  ne  preyse  that  loving, 
Wher-thurgh  man,  at  the  laste  ending, 
Shal  calle  hem  wrecchis  fulle  of  wo,  4775 
Love  greveth  hem  and  shendith  so. 
But  if  thou  wolt  wel  Love  eschewe. 
For  to  escape  out  of  his  mewe, 
And  make  al  hool  thy  sorvve  to  slake, 
No  bettir  counsel  mayst  thou  take,    4780 
Than  thinke  to  fleen  wel,  y-wis; 


47S2-4880.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE,     (B.) 


41 


4790 
doc- 


4795 


4800 


May  nought  helpe  elles;    for  witc  thou 

this :  — 
If  thou  lice  it,  it  shal  flee  thee; 
Folowe  it,  and  folowen  shal  it  thee.' 
VAmiiunt.    Whan   I    hadde    herd    al 

Resoun  seyn,  47^5 

Which  hadde  spilt  hir  speche  in  veyn : 
'  Dame,'  seyde  I,  '  I  dar  wcl  sey 
Of  this  avaunt  me  wel  1  may 
That  from  your  scole  so  dcviaunt 
I  am,  tliat  never  the  more  avaunt 
Right  nought   am   I,   thurgh    your 

tryne; 
I  (lulle  under  your  disciplyne; 
I  wot  no  more  than  [I]  wist  [er], 
To  me  so  contrarie  antl  so  fer 
Is  every  thing  that  ye  me  lere; 
And  yit  I  can  it  al  parcuere. 
Myn  herte  foryetitli  therof  right  nought 
It  is  so  writen  in  my  thought ; 
And  depe  graven  it  is  so  tcndir 
That  al  by  herte  I  can  it  rendre, 
And  rede  it  over  comunely; 
But  to  my-silf  lewedist  am  I. 

'  But  sith  ye  love  discreven  so, 
And  lakke  and  preise  it,  bothe  two, 
Defyncth  it  into  this  letter,  4805 

That  1  may  thenke  on  it  the  better; 
For  I  herde  never  [diffyne  it  ere], 
And  wilfully  I  wolde  it  lere.' 

Kaisonn.   '  If  love  be  serched  wel  and 

sought. 
It  is  a  sykenesse  of  the  thought  4810 

Annexed  and  knct  bitvvixe  tweyne, 
[Which]     male    and    female,    with    00 

cheyne, 
So  frely  Ijyndith,  that  they  nil  twinne, 
Whether  so  therof  they  lese  or  winne. 
The  roote   springith,  thurgh   hoot   bren- 

ning,  4815 

Into  disordinat  desiring 
For  to  kissen  and  enbrace. 
And  at  her  lust  them  to  solace. 
Of  other  thing  love  recchith  nought. 
But  setteth  hir  herte  and  al  hir  thought 
More  for  delectacioun  4821 

Than  any  procreacioun 
Of  other  fruyt  by  engendring; 
Which  love  to  god  is  not  plesing; 
For  of  hir  body  fruyt  to  get  4825 

They  yeve  no  force,  they  are  so  set 
Upon  delyt,  to  pley  in-fere. 
And  somme  have  also  this  manere, 


To  feynen  hem  for  love  seke ; 

Sich  love  I  preise  not  at  a  leke.         4830 

For  jiaramours  they  do  but  feyne; 

To  love  truly  they  disdeyne. 

They  falsen  ladies  traitoursly. 

And  sweren  hem  othes  utterly, 

With  many  a  lesing,  and  many  a  fal)le. 

And  al  they  finden  deceyvable.  4836 

And,  whan  they  her  lust  ban  geten. 

The  hoote  ernes  they  al  foryeten. 

Wimmen,  the  harm  they  byen  ful  sore; 

But  men  this  thenken  evermore,        4S40 

That  lasse  harm  is,  so  mote  I  thee, 

Disceyve  them,  than  disceyved  be; 

And  namely,  wher  they  ne  may 

Finde  non  other  mene  wey. 

For  I  wot  wel,  in  sothfastnesse,  4845 

That  [who]  tloth  now  his  l)isynesse 

With  any  wcmiman  for  to  dele. 

For  any  lust  that  he  may  fele, 

But-if  it  be  for  engendrure. 

He  doth  trespasse,  I  you  ensure.        4850 

For  he  shulde  setten  al  his  wil 

To  geten  a  likly  thing  him  til, 

And  to  sustene[n],  if  he  might. 

And  kepe  forth,  Ijy  kindes  right, 

His  owne  lyknesse  and  semblable,    4855 

For  bicause  al  is  corumpable, 

And  faile  shulde  successioun, 

Ne  were  ther  generacioun 

Our  sectis  strene  for  to  save. 

Whan  fader  or  motier  am  in  grave,  4860 

Hir    children    shulde,   whan    they    ben 

deede, 
Ful  diligent  ben,  in  hir  steede, 
To  use  that  werke  on  such  a  wyse, 
That  oon  may  thurgh  another  ryse. 
Therfore  set  Kinde  therm  delyt,         4865 
For  men  therin  shulde  hem  delyte, 
And  of  that  dede  be  not  erke. 
But  ofte  sythes  haunt  that  werke. 
For  noon  wolde  drawe  therof  a  draught 
Ne  were  delyt,  which  hath  him  caught. 
This  hadde  sotil  dame  Nature;  4871 

For  noon  goth  right,  I  thee  ensure, 
Ne  hath  entent  hool  ne  parfyt; 
For  hir  desir  is  for  delyt. 
The  which  fortened  crece  and  eke    4875 
The  pley  of  love  for-ofte  seke. 
And  thralle  hem-silf,  they  be  so  nyce, 
Unto  the  prince  of  every  vyce. 
For  of  ech  sinne  it  is  the  rote, 
UnlefuUe  lust,  though  it  be  sote,        4S80 


48 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[4881-4984. 


And  of  al  yvel  the  racyne, 

As  Tullius  can  deterniyne, 

Which  in  his  tyme  was  ful  sage, 

In  a  boke  he  made  of  Age, 

Wher  that  more  he  preyscth  Elde,    4885 

Though  he  be  crotced  and  unwelde, 

And  more  of  commendacioun, 

Tiian  Youthe  in  his  discripcioun. 

For  Youthe  set  bothe  man  and  wyf 

In  al  perel  of  soule  and  lyf ;  4S90 

And  perel  is,  but  men  have  grace, 

The  [tyme]  of  youthe  for  to  pace, 

Withoute  any  deth  or  distresse, 

It  is  so  ful  of  wildenesse; 

So  ofte  it  doth  shame  or  damage       4895 

To  him  or  to  his  linage. 

It  ledith  man  now  up,  now  doun, 

In  mochel  dissolucioun, 

And  makith  him  love  yvel  company. 

And  lede  his  lyf  disrewlily,  4900 

And  halt  him  payed  with  noon  estate. 

Within  him-silf  is  such  debate. 

He  chaungith  purpos  and  entent. 

And  yalt  [him]  into  som  covent. 

To  liven  aftir  her  empryse,  4905 

And  lesith  fredom  and  fraunchyse, 

That  Nature  in  him  hadde  set. 

The  which  ageyn  he  may  not  get, 

If  he  there  make  his  mansioun 

For  to  abyde  professioun.  49 lO 

Through  for  a  tyme  his  herte  absente, 

It  may  not  fayle,  he  shal  repente, 

And  eke  abyde  thilke  day 

To  leve  his  aljit,  and  goon  his  way. 

And  lesith  his  worship  and  his  name. 

And  dar  not  come  ageyn  for  shame;  4916 

But  al  his  lyf  he  doth  so  mourne, 

Bicause  he  dar  not  hoom  retourne. 

Fredom  of  kinde  so  lost  hath  he 

That  never  may  recured  be,  4920 

But-if  that  god  him  graunte  grace 

That  he  may,  er  he  hennes  pace, 

Conteyne  undir  obedience 

Thurgh  the  vertu  of  pacience. 

For  Youthe  set  man  in  al  folye,  492$ 

In  unthrift  and  in  ribaudye. 

In  leccherye,  and  in  outrage. 

So  ofte  it  chaungith  of  corage. 

Youthe  ginneth  ofte  sich  bargeyn. 

That  may  not  ende  withouten  peyn.  4930 

In  gret  perel  is  set  youth-hede, 

Delyt  so  doth  his  bridil  lede. 

Delyt  thus  hangith,  drede  thee  nought, 


Bothe  mannis  body  and  his  thought, 

Only  thurgh  Youthe,  his  chamberere,  4935 

That  to  don  yvel  is  customere. 

And  of  nought  ellcs  takcth  hede 

But  only  folkes  for  to  lede 

Into  disporte  and  wildenesse. 

So  is  [she]  frovvard  from  sadnesse.    4940 

'  But  Elde  dravvith  hem  therfro ; 
Who  wot  it  nought,  he  may  wel  go 
[Demand]  of  hem  that  now  arn  olde. 
That  whylom  Youthe  hadde  in  holde, 
Which  yit  remembre  of  tendir  age,   4945 
How  it  hem  brought  in  many  a  rage, 
And  many  a  foly  therin  wrought. 
But    now   that    Elde   hath   hem  thurgh- 

sought, 
They  repente  hem  of  her  folye, 
That  Youthe  hem  putte  in  lupardye,  4950 
In  perel  and  in  muche  wo. 
And  made  hem  ofte  amis  to  do, 
And  suen  yvel  companye, 
Riot  and  avouterye. 

'  But  Elde  [can]  ageyn  restreyne  4955 
From  suche  foly,  and  refreyne. 
And  set  men,  by  hir  ordinaunce, 
In  good  reule  and  in  governaunce. 
But  yvel  she  spendith  hir  servyse. 
For  no  man  wol  hir  love,  ne  pryse;   4960 
She  is  hated,  this  wot  I  wele. 
Hir  acqueyntaunce  wolde  no  man  fele, 
Ne  han  of  Elde  companye. 
Men  hate  to  be  of  hir  alye. 
For  no  man  wolde  bicomen  olde,      4965 
Ne  dye,  whan  he  is  yong  and  bolde. 
And  Elde  merveilith  right  gretly. 
When  they  remembre  hem  inwardly 
Of  many  a  perelous  empryse, 
Whiche    that    they   wrought    in    sondry 
wyse,  4970 

How  ever  they  might,  withoute  blame. 
Escape  awey  withoute  shame, 
In  youthe,  withoute[n]  damage 
Or  repreef  of  her  linage, 
Losse  of  membre,  sheding  of  blode,  4975 
Perel  of  deth,  or  losse  of  good. 

'  Wost  thou  nought  where  Youthe  abit. 
That  men  so  preisen  in  her  wit? 
With  Delyt  she  halt  soiour, 
For  bothe  they  dwellen  in  00  tour.    49S0 
As  longe  as  Youthe  is  in  sesoun. 
They  dwellen  in  oon  mansioun. 
Delyt  of  Youthe  wol  have  servyse 
To  do  what  so  he  wol  devyse; 


4985-5083.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE,     (B.) 


49 


And  Youthe  is  redy  evermore  4985 

For  to  obey,  for  siiierte  of  sore, 

Unto  Delyt,  and  him  to  yive 

Hit  servise,  whyl  that  she  may  live. 

♦  Where  F:ide  ahit,  I  vvol  thee  telle 
Shortly,  and  no  whyle  dwelle,  4990 

For  thider  bihovetli  thee  to  go. 
If  Deth  in  youthe  thee  not  slo, 
Of  this  journey  thou  maist  not  faile. 
With  hir  Labour  and  Travaile 
Logged  been,  with  Sorwe  and  Wo,    4995 
That  never  out  of  hir  courte  go. 
Peyne  and  Uistresse,  Syknesse  and  Ire, 
And  Malencoly,  that  angry  sire, 
Ben  of  hir  paleys  senatours; 
Groning     and     Grucching,    hir    herber- 

geours,  5000 

The  day  and  night,  hir  to  turment, 
With  cruel  Deth  they  hir  present. 
And  tellen  hir,  erliche  and  late. 
That  Deth  stant  armed  at  hir  gate. 
Than  bringe  they  to  hir  remembraunce 
The  foly  dedis  of  hir  infaunce,  5006 

Which  causen  hir  to  mourne  in  wo 
That  Youthe  hath  hir  bigiled  so, 
Which  sodeynly  awey  is  hasted. 
She   wepeth    the    tyme    that    she    hath 

wasted,  5010 

Compleyning  of  the  preterit. 
And  the  present,  that  not  abit. 
And  of  hir  olde  vanitee, 
That,  but  aforn  hir  she  may  see 
In  the  future  som  socour,  5015 

To  leggen  hir  of  hir  dolour. 
To  graunt  hir  tyme  of  repentaunce, 
For  hir  sinnes  to  do  penaunce. 
And  at  the  laste  so  hir  governe 
To  vvinne  the  loy  that  is  eterne,         5020 
Fro    which    go    bakward    Youthe    [hir] 

made. 
In  vanitee  to  droune  and  wade. 
For  present  tyme  abidilh  nought. 
It  is  more  swift  than  any  thought; 
So  litel  whyle  it  doth  endure  5025 

That  ther  nis  compte  ne  mesure. 

'  But  how  that  ever  the  game  go. 
Who  list  [have]  loye  and  mirth  also 
Of  love,  be  it  he  or  she. 
High  or  lowe,  who  [so]  it  be,  5030 

In  fruyt  they  shulde  hem  delyte; 
Her  part  they  may  not  elles  quyte, 
To  save  hem-silf  in  honestee. 
And  yit  ful  many  oon  I  see 


Of  wimmen,  sothly  for  to  seyne,         5035 
That  [ay]  desire  and  wolde  fayne 
The  pley  of  love,  they  be  so  wilde, 
And  not  coveite  to  go  with  childe. 
And  if  with  chilil  they  be  perchaunce. 
They  wole  it  hokle  a  gret  mischaunce; 
But  whal-som-ever  wo  they  fele,        5041 
They  wol  not  pleyne,  but  concele; 
But-if  it  be  any  fool  or  nyce, 
In  whom  that  shame  hath  no  lustyce. 
For  to  delyt  echon  they  drawe,  504S 

That  haunte  this  werk,  bothe  high  and 

lawe, 
Save  sich  that  ar[e]n  worth  right  nought, 
That  for  money  wol  be  bought. 
Such  love  I  preise  in  no  wyse. 
Whan  it  is  given  for  coveitise.  5050 

I   preise   no  womman,  though   [she]   be 

wood. 
That  yeveth  hir-silf  for  any  good. 
For  litel  shulde  a  man  telle 
Of  hir,  that  wol  hir  body  selle. 
Be  she  mayde,  be  she  wyf,  5^55 

That  quik  wol  selle  hir,  by  hir  lyf. 
How  faire  chere  that  ever  she  make. 
He  is  a  wrecche,  I  undirtake. 
That  loveth  such  one,  for  swete  or  sour. 
Though  she  him  calle  hir  paramour,  5060 
And  laugheth  on  him,  and  makith  him 

feeste. 
For  certeynly  no  suche  [a]  beeste 
To  be  loved  is  not  worthy. 
Or  here  the  name  of  druery. 
Noon   shulde   hir   please,    but   he   were 

wood,  5065 

That  wol  dispoile  him  of  his  good. 
Yit  neverthelcs,  I  wol  not  sey 
[But]  she,  for  solace  and  for  pley, 
May  a  lewel  or  other  thing 
Take  of  her  loves  free  yeving;  507° 

But  that  she  aske  it  in  no  wyse, 
P"or  drede  of  shame  of  coveityse. 
And  she  of  hirs  may  him,  certeyn, 
Withoute  sclaundre,  yeven  ageyn. 
And  ioyne  her  hertes  togidre  so         5075 
In  love,  and  take  and  yeve  also. 
Trowe  not  that  I  wolde  hem  twinne. 
Whan  in  her  love  ther  is  no  sinne; 
I  wol  that  they  togedre  go, 
And  doon  al  that  they  han  ado,         5080 
As  curteis  shulde  and  debonaire. 
And  in  her  love  beren  hem  faire, 
Withoute  vyce,  bothe  he  and  she; 


5° 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[5084-5189. 


So  that  alwey,  in  honestee, 

Fro  foly  love  [they]  kepe  hem  clere 

That  hrcnncth  liertis  with  his  fere;    5086 

And  that  her  love,  in  any  wyse, 

Be  devoid  of  coveityse. 

(lood  love  shulde  engendrid  be 

Of  Irewe  herle,  iust,  and  secree,         5090 

And  not  of  such  as  sette  her  thought 

To  have  her  lust,  and  ellis  nought, 

So  arc  they  caught  in  Loves  lace. 

Truly,  for  liodily  solace. 

Flcsiily  delyt  is  so  present  5095 

With  thee,  that  sette  al  thyn  entent, 

Withoute  more  (what  shulde  I  glose?) 

For  to  gete  and  have  the  Rose; 

Which  niakilh  thee  so  mate  and  wood 

That  thou  desirest  noon  other  good.  5100 

But  thou  art  not  an  inche  the  nerre. 

But  ever  aliydest  in  sorwe  and  werre, 

As  in  thy  face  it  is  sene; 

It  makith  thee  bothe  pale  and  lene; 

Thy  might,  thy  vertu  goth  way.  5105 

A  sory  gest,  in  goode  fay. 

Thou  [herberedest  than]  in  thyn  inne, 

The  God  of  Love  whan  thou  let  inne  ! 

Wherefore  I  rede,  thou  shette  him  out, 

Or  he  shal  greve  thee,  out  of  doute; 

For  to  thy  profit  it  wol  turne,  51 11 

If  he  nomore  with  thee  soiourne. 

In  gret  mischeef  and  sorwe  sonken 

Ben  hertis,  that  of  love  arn  dronken, 

As  thou  peraventure  knowen  shal,     5 1 15 

Whan  thou  hast  lost  [thy]  tyme  al, 

And  spent  [thy  youthe]  in  ydilnesse, 

In  waste,  and  vvoful  lustinesse; 

If  thou  maist  live  the  tyme  to  see 

Of  love  for  to  delivered  be,  5120 

Thy  tyme  thou  shalt  biwepe  sore 

The  whiche  never  thou  maist  restore. 

(F"or  tyme  lost,  as  men  may  see, 

For  no-thing  may  recured  be). 

And  if  thou  scape  yit,  atte  laste,        5125 

Fro  Love,  that  hath  thee  so  faste 

Knit  and  bounden  in  his  lace, 

Certeyn,  I  holde  it  but  a  grace. 

For  many  oon,  as  it  is  seyn. 

Have  lost,  and  spent  also  in  veyn,     5130 

In  his  servysc,  withoute  socour. 

Body  and  soule,  good,  and  tresour. 

Wit,  and  strengthe,  and  eek  richesse. 

Of  which  they  ha<lde  never  redresse.' 

Thus  taught  and  preched  hath  Resoun, 
But  Love  spilte  hir  sermoun,  513^ 


That  was  so  imped  in  my  thought. 

That  hir  doctrine  I  sette  at  nought. 

And  yit  ne  seide  she  never  a  dele, 

That  I  ne  understode  it  wele,  5 140 

Word  by  word,  the  mater  al. 

But  unto  Love  I  was  so  th/al. 

Which  callith  over-al  his  pray, 

He  chasith  so  my  thought  [alway], 

And  holdith  myn  herte  undir  his  sele, 

As  trust  and  trew  as  any  stele;  5146 

So  that  no  devocioun 

Ne  hadde  I  in  the  sermoun 

Of  dame  Resoun,  ne  of  hir  rede; 

It  toke  no  soiour  in  myn  hede.  5150 

For  alle  yede  out  at  oon  ere 

That  in  that  other  she  dide  lere; 

Fully  on  me  she  lost  hir  lore, 

Hir  speche  me  grevetl  wondir  sore. 

[Than]  unto  hir  for  ire  I  seide,     5 1 55 
For  anger,  as  I  dide  abraide  : 
'  Dame,  and  is  it  your  wille  algate, 
That  I  not  love,  but  that  I  hate 
Alle  men,  as  ye  me  teche? 
For  if  I  do  aftir  your  speche,  5160 

Sith  that  ye  seyn  love  is  not  good. 
Than  must  I  nedis  say  with  mood, 
If  I  it  leve,  in  hatrede  ay 
Liven,  and  voide  love  away  5164 

From  me,  [and  been]  a  sinful  wrecche, 
Hated  of  all  that  [love  that]  tecche. 
I  may  not  go  noon  other  gate, 
For  either  must  I  love  or  hate. 
•And  if  I  hate  men  of-newe 
More  than  love,  it  wol  me  rewe,        5 1 7° 
As  by  your  preching  semeth  me. 
For  Love  no-thing  ne  preisith  thee. 
Ye  yeve  good  counseil,  sikirly. 
That  prechith  me  al-day,  that  I 
Shulde  not  Loves  lore  alowe;  5175 

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, 
To  love  ech  other;   by  your  leve,       5180 
If  ye  wolde  diffyne  it  me, 
I  wolde  gladly  here,  to  see. 
At  the  leest,  if  I  may  lere 
Of  sondry  loves  the  manere.'  5184 

liaison.  '  Certis,  freend,  a  fool  art  thou 
Whan  that  thou  no-thing  wolt  allowe 
That  I  [thee]  for  thy  profit  say. 
Yit  wol  I  sey  thee  more,  in  fay; 
I'or  I  am  redy,  at  the  leste, 


5I90-528S.] 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (K) 


5» 


To  accomplisshe  thy  requeste,  5^90 

liut  I  not  wlier  it  wol  avayle; 

In  veyne,  jjerauntre,  I  shal  travayle. 

Love  thcr  is  in  sundry  wyse, 

As  1  shai  thee  here  devyse. 

I'or  sum  luvc  Icful  is  and  guod  ;         5195 

1  mcnc  not  that  whicli  makith  thee  wood, 

And  l>rin^ith  tliee  in  many  a  lit, 

And  ravisshith  fro  thee  al  thy  wit. 

It  is  so  merveilous  and  queynt;  5^99 

With  such  love  be  no  more  aqueynt, 

COMMENT   RAISOUN   DIFFINIST 
AMISTIE. 

'  Love  of  Frendshipe  also  ther  is, 
Which  makith  no  man  doon  amis, 
Of  willc  knit  l)itwixe  two, 
That  wol  not  lueke  for  wele  ne  wo; 
Wiiicli  lung  is  lykly  to  contune,         5205 
Whan  wille  and  goodis  ben  in  comune; 
Grounded  by  goddis  ordinaunce, 
Iluol,  wilhoute  discordaunce; 
With  hem  holding  comuntee 
Of  al  her  gootle  in  charitee,  5210 

That  ther  be  noon  excepcioun 
'i'hurgh  cliaunging  of  entencioun; 
Tliat  cell  helpe  other  at  hir  neede, 
And  wysly  hole  bothe  word  and  dede; 
Treue  of  mening,  devoid  of  slouthe. 
For  wit  is  nought  w  ithoute  trouthe;  5216 
So  that  th'/  tun  dar  al  his  thought 
Seyn  to  liis  Ireend,  and  spare  nought, 
As  to  hiui-silf,  without  dreding 
To  be  discovered  by  wreying.  5220 

Fur  glad  is  that  coniunccioun. 
Whan  ther  is  noon  suspecioun 
[Xe   lak    in   hem],   whom    they   wolde 

prove 
That  trew  and  parfit  weren  in  love. 
For  no  man  may  be  amialile,  5225 

But-if  he  be  so  ferme  and  stable. 
That  fortune  chaunge  him  not  ne  blinde, 
Uut  that  his  freend  alwey  him  finde, 
Bothe  pore  and  riche,  in  oon  [ejstate. 
For  if  liis  freend,  thurgh  any  gate,    5230 
Wol  compleyne  of  his  povertee, 
He  shulde  not  bsde  so  long,  til  he 
Of  iiis  helping  him  requere; 
For    good     deed,    duue     [but]     thurgh 

prayere, 
Is  sold,  and  bought  to  dere,  y-wis,     5235 
To  hert  that  of  grot  valour  is. 


For  hert  fulfilled  of  gentilnesse 

Can  yvcl  demene  his  distresse. 

And  man  that  worthy  is  of  name 

To  asken  often  hatli  gret  shame.        5240 

.\  good  man  brenneth  in  his  thought 

For  shame,  whan  he  axelh  ought. 

He  hath  gret  thought,  and  dredith  ay 

For  his  disese,  whan  he  shal  pray 

His  freend,  lest  that  he  warned  be,   5245 

'iil  that  he  preve  his  stabiltee. 

But  whan  that  he  hath  founden  0011 

That  trusty  is  and  trcw  as  stone. 

And  [hath]  assayed  him  at  al, 

Antl  found  him  stedefast  as  a  wal,     5250 

And  of  ids  frcendship  be  certcyne. 

He  shal  him  shewc  l)uthe  loye  and  peyne, 

And  al  that  [he]  dar  thinke  or  sey, 

Withoute  shame,  as  he  wel  may. 

For  how  shulde  he  ashamed  be  5255 

Of  sich  oon  as  I  tolde  thee? 

For  whan  he  woot  his  secree  thought. 

The    thridde   shal    knowe    ther-of  right 

nought; 
P"or  tweyn  in  nombre  is  bet  than  three 
In  every  counsel  and  secree.  5260 

Repreve  he  dredeth  never  a  del, 
Who  that  biset  his  wordis  wel; 
For  every  wys  man,  out  of  drede. 
Can  kepe  his  tunge  til  he  see  nede; 
And  fuolcs  can  not  holde  hir  tunge; 
A  fooles  belle  is  sone  runge.  5266 

Yit  shal  a  trewe  freend  do  more 
To  helpe  his  felowe  of  his  sore. 
And  socoure  him,  whan  he  hath  nede, 
Li  al  that  he  may  doon  in  dede;        5270 
And  gladder  [be]  that  he  him  plesith 
Than  [is]  his  felowe  that  he  esith. 
And  if  he  do  not  his  requeste, 
He  shal  as  mochel  him  moleste 
As  his  felow,  for  that  he  5275 

]\lay  nut  fulfille  his  voluntee 
[As]  fully  as  he  hath  requered. 
If  bothe  the  hertis  Love  hath  fered, 
Joy  and  wo  they  shul  depart. 
And  take  evenly  ech  his  part.  52S0 

Half  his  anoy  he  shal  have  ay. 
And  comfort  [him]  what  that  he  may; 
And  of  his  blisse  parte  shal  he, 
If  love  wol  departed  be. 

'  And  whilom  of  this  [amitee]        52S5 
Spak  Tullius  in  a  ditee; 
["A  man]  shulde  makcn  his  request 
Unto  his  freend,  that  is  honest; 


52 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[5289-5394- 


And  he  goodly  shulde  it  fulfille, 

But  it  the  more  were  out  of  skile,      5290 

And  otherwise  not  graunt  therto, 

Except  only  in  [eases]  two : 

If  men  his  freend  to  deth  wolde  dryve, 

Lat  him  be  bisy  to  save  his  lyve. 

Also  if  men  wolen  him  assayle,  5295 

Of  his  wurship  to  make  hini  faile, 

And  hindren  him  of  his  renoun, 

Lat  him,  with  ful  entencioun, 

His  dever  doon  in  ech  degree 

That  his  freend  ne  shamed  be,  5300 

In  this  two  [cases]  with  his  might, 

Taking  no  kepe  to  skile  nor  right. 

As  ferre  as  love  may  him  excuse; 

This  oughtc  no  man  to  refuse." 

This  love  that  I  have  told  to  thee      5305 

Is  no-thing  contrarie  to  me; 

This  wol  I  that  thou  folowe  wel, 

And  leve  the  tother  everydel. 

This  love  to  vertu  al  attendith, 

The  tothir  fooles  blent  and  shendith. 

'Another  love  also  there  is,  31 1 

That  is  contrarie  unto  this, 
Which  desyre  is  so  constreyned 
That  [it]  is  but  wille  feyned; 
Awey  fro  trouthe  it  doth  so  varie,      5315 
That  to  good  love  it  is  contrarie; 
For  it  maymeth,  in  many  wyse, 
Syke  hertis  with  coveityse; 
Al  in  winning  and  in  profyt 
Sich  love  settith  his  delyt.  5320 

This  love  so  hangeth  in  balaunce 
That,  if  it  lese  his  hope,  perchaunce, 
Of  lucre,  that  he  is  set  upon. 
It  wol  faile,  and  quenche  anon; 
For  no  man  may  be  amorous,  5325 

Ne  in  his  living  vertuous. 
But- [if]  he  love  more,  in  mood, 
Men  for  hem-silf  than  for  hir  good. 
Por  love  that  profit  doth  abyde 
Is  fals,  and  bit  not  in  no  tyde.  533° 

[This]  love  cometh  of  dame  Fortune, 
That  litel  whyle  wol  contune; 
For  it  shal  chaungen  wonder  sone. 
And  take  eclips  right  as  the  mone, 
Whan  she  is  from  us  [y]-let  5335 

Thurgh  erthe,  that  bitwixe  is  set 
The  Sonne  and  hir,  as  it  may  faile, 
Be  it  in  party,  or  in  alle; 
The  shadowe  maketh  her  bemis  merke, 
And  hir  homes  to  shewe  derke,         5340 
That  jiart  where  she  hath  lost  hir  lyght 


Of  Phebus  fully,  and  the  sight; 
Til,  whan  the  shadowe  is  overpast. 
She  is  enluniiiied  ageyn  as  faste, 
Thurgh  brightncsse  of  the  sonne  hemes 
That  yeveth  to  hir  ageyn  hir  lemes.  5346 
That  love  is  right  of  sich  nature; 
Now  is  [it]  fair,  and  now  obscure. 
Now  bright,  now  clipsy  of  manere. 
And  whylom  dim,  and  whylom  clere. 
As  sone  as  Poverte  ginneth  take,       5351 
With  mantel  and  [with]  wedis  blake 
[It]  hidith  of  Love  the  light  awey. 
That  into  night  it  turneth  day; 
It  may  not  see  Richesse  shyne  5355 

Til  the  blakke  shadowes  fyne. 
P'or,  whan  Richesse  shyneth  bright. 
Love  recovereth  ageyn  his  light; 
And  whan  it  failith,  he  wol  flit, 
And  as  she  [groweth,  so  groweth]  it. 

'  Of  this  love,  here  what  I  sey :  —  5361 
The  riche  men  are  loved  ay, 
And  namely  tho  that  sparand  bene. 
That  wol  not  wasshe  hir  hertes  clene 
Of  the  filthe,  nor  of  the  vyce  53^5 

Of  gredy  brenning  avaryce. 
The  riche  man  ful  fond  is,  y-wis, 
That  weneth  that  he  loved  is. 
If  that  his  herte  it  undirstood, 
It  is  not  he,  it  is  his  good;  537° 

He  may  wel  witen  in  his  thought, 
His  good  is  loved,  and  he  right  nought. 
For  if  he  be  a  nigard  eke. 
Men  wole  not  sette  by  him  a  leke, 
But  haten  him;   this  is  the  soth.        5375 
Lo,  what  profit  his  catel  doth  ! 
Of  every  man  that  may  him  see, 
It  geteth  him  nought  but  enmitee. 
But  he  amende  him  of  that  vyce. 
And  knowe  him-silf,  he  is  not  wys.    5380 

'  Certis,  he  shulde  ay  freendly  be, 
To  gete  him  love  also  ben  free. 
Or  ellis  he  is  not  wyse  ne  sage 
No  more  than  is  a  gote  ramage. 
That  he  not  loveth,  his  dede  proveth. 
Whan  he  his  richesse  so  wel  loveth,  5386 
That  he  wol  hyde  it  ay  and  spare. 
His  pore  freendis  seen  forfare; 
To  kepe  [it  ay  is]  his  purpose, 
Til  for  drede  his  eyen  close,  539° 

And  til  a  wikked  deth  him  take; 
Him  hadde  lever  asondre  shake, 
And  late  his  limes  asondre  ryve. 
Than  leve  his  richesse  in  his  lyve. 


5395-5498.  J 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE    ROSE.     (B.) 


53 


He  thinkith  parte  it  with  no  man;    5395 

Certayn,  no  love  is  in  him  than. 

How  shulde  love  within  him  be, 

Whan  in  his  hcrte  is  no  pile? 

That  he  trespassctli,  vvel  I  wat, 

For  ech  man  knowith  his  cstat;         5400 

For  wel  him  oughte  he  reproved 

That  loveth  nought,  ne  is  not  loved. 

'  i)Ut  sith  we  arn  to  Fortune  comcn. 
And  [han]  our  sermoun  of  hir  nomen, 
A  vvondir  wil  I  telle  thee  now,  54^5 

Thou  herdist  never  sich  oon,  I  trow. 
I  not  wher  thou  me  leven  shal. 
Though  sothfastnesse  it  be  [in]  al, 
As  it  is  writen,  and  is  sooth. 
That  unto  men  more  profit  doth         54IO 
The  froward  P'ortune  and  contraire. 
Than  the  swote  and  debonaire : 
And  if  thee  thinke  it  is  doutable, 
It  is  thurgh  argument  prpvable. 
For  the  debonaire  and  softe  54 '5 

Falsith  and  bigylith  ofte; 
For  liche  a  moder  she  can  cherishe 
And  milken  as  doth  a  norys; 
And  of  hir  goode  to  hem  deles. 
And  yeveth  hem  part  of  her  loweles, 
With  grete  richesse  and  dignitee;      5421 
And  hem  she  hoteth  stabilitee 
In  a  state  that  is  not  stable, 
But  chaunging  ay  and  variable; 
And  fedith  hem  with  glorie  veyne,    5425 
And  worldly  blisse  noncerteyne. 
Whan  she  hem  settith  on  hir  whele. 
Than  wene  they  to  be  right  wele. 
And  in  so  stable  state  withalle, 
That  never  they  wene  for  to  falle.      5430 
And  whan  they  set  so  highe  be, 
They  wene  to  have  in  certeintee 
Of  hertly  frendis  [so]  gret  noumbre, 
That   no-thing    mighte    her  Stat  encom- 

bre; 
They  truste  hem  so  on  every  syde,    5435 
Wening  with  hem  they  wolde  abyde 
In  every  perel  and  mischaunce, 
Withoute  chaunge  or  variaunce, 
Bothe  of  catel  and  of  good; 
And  also  for  to  spende  hir  blood       544° 
And  alle  hir  membris  for  to  spille, 
Only  to  fultille  hir  wille. 
They  maken  it  hole  in  many  wyse, 
And  hoten  hem  hir  ful  servyse, 
How  sore  that  it  do  hem  smerte,       5445 
Into  hir  very  naked  sherte ! 


Herte  and  al,  so  hole  they  yeve. 

For  the  tyme  that  they  may  live, 

So  that,  with  her  tlaterye. 

They  maken  foolis  glorifye  545^ 

Of  hir  wordis  [greet]  sjieking, 

And  han  [there]-of  a  reioysing. 

And  trowe  hem  as  the  Evangyle; 

And  it  is  al  falsheed  and  gyle, 

As  they  shal  afterwardes  see,  5455 

Whan  they  arn  fallc  in  povertee. 

Anil  been  of  good  and  calel  bare; 

Than   shulde    they    seen    who    frecndis 

ware. 
F^or  of  an  hundred,  certeynly. 
Nor  of  a  thousand  ful  scarsly,  5460 

Ne  shal  they  fynde  unnethis  oon. 
Whan  povertee  is  comen  upon. 
For  [this]  Fortune  that  I  of  telle. 
With  men  whan  hir  lust  t(j  dwelle, 
Makith  hem  to  lese  hir  conisaunce,  5465 
And  nourishith  hem  in  ignoraunce. 

'  Piut  froward  Fortune  and  perverse. 
Whan  high  estatis  she  doth  reverse, 
And  maketh  hem  to  tumble  doun 
Of  hir  whele,  with  sodeyn  tourn,        547° 
And  from  hir  richesse  doth  hem  flee. 
And  plongeth  hem  in  povertee, 
As  a  stepmoder  envyous, 
And  leyeth  a  piastre  dolorous 
Unto  her  hertis,  wounded  egre,  5475 

Which  is  not  tempred  with  vinegre. 
But  with  poverte  and  indigence. 
For  to  shewe,  by  experience. 
That  she  is  Fortune  verely 
In  whom  no  man  shulde  affy,  54^0 

Nor  in  hir  yeftis  have  tiaunce, 
She  is  so  ful  of  variaunce. 
Thus  can  she  maken  high  and  lowe. 
Whan  they  from  richesse  ar[e]n  throwe. 
Fully  to  knowen,  withouten  were,      5485 
Freend  of  effect,  and  freend  of  chere; 
And  which  in  love  weren  trew  and  stable. 
And  whiche  also  weren  variable. 
After  Fortune,  hir  goddesse. 
In  poverte,  outher  in  richesse;  5490 

For  al  [she]  yeveth,  out  of  drede, 
Unhappe  bereveth  it  in  dede ; 
For  Infortune  lat  not  oon 
Of  freendis,  whan  •F'ortune  is  goon  ; 
1  mene  tho  frecndis  that  wol  tlee       5495 
Anoon  as  entrcth  povertee. 
And  yit  they  wol  not  leve  hem  so, 
But  in  ech  place  where  they  go 


54 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[5499-5601. 


They  callc  licin  "wrecche,"  scorne  and 

blamf , 
And  of  hir  mishappe  hem  diffamc,    5500 
And,  namely,  sichc  as  in  richesse 
Pictendith  most  of  stablcnesse. 
Whan  that  they  sawe  him  set  onlofte, 
And  weren  of  him  socoured  ofte. 
And  most  y-holpe  in  al  hir  nede  :       5505 
IJut  now  they  take  no  maner  hede, 
l>ut  seyn,  in  voice  of  flaterye, 
That  now  apperith  hir  folye, 
Over-al  where-so  they  fare, 
And  singe,  "  Go,  farewel  feldefare."  5510 
AUe  suche  freendis  I  beshrewe, 
For  of  [the]  trewe  ther  be  to  fewe; 
But  sothfast  freendis,  what  so  bityde, 
In  every  fortune  wolen  abyde; 
They  han  hir  hertis  in  suche  noblesse 
That  they  nil  love  for  no  richesse;     5516 
Nor,  for  that  Fortune  may  hem  sende, 
They  wolen  hem  socoure  and  defende; 
And  chaunge  for  softe  ne  for  sore. 
For  who  is  freend,  loveth  evermore.  5520 
Though  men  drawe  swerd  his  freend  to 

slo, 
He  may  not  hewe  hir  love  a-two. 
But,  in  [the]  case  that  I  shal  sey, 
For  pride  and  ire  lese  it  he  may, 
And  for  reprove  by  nycetee,  5525 

And  discovering  of  privitee, 
With  tonge  wounding,  as  feloun, 
Thurgh  venemous  detraccioun. 
Frend  in  this  case  wol  gon  his  way, 
For  no-thing  greve  him  more  ne  may; 
Anrl  for  nought  ellis  wol  he  ilee,        5531 
If  that  he  love  in  stabilitee. 
And  certeyn,  he  is  wel  bigoon 
Among  a  thousand  that  fyndith  oon. 
For  ther  may  be  no  richesse,  5535 

Ageyns  frendship,  of  worthinesse; 
For  it  ne  may  so  high  atteigne 
/\s  may  the  valoure,  sooth  to  seyne, 
Of  him  that  loveth  trew  and  wel; 
Frendship  is  more  than  is  catel.         554° 
For  freend  in  court  ay  better  is 
Than  peny  in  [his]  purs,  certis; 
And  Fortune,  mishapping, 
W^han  upon  men  she  is  [falling], 
Thurgh  misturning  of  hir  chaunce,    5545 
And  casteth  hem  oute  of  balaunce. 
She  makith,  thurgh  hir  adversitee, 
Men  ful  cleerly  for  to  see 
Him  that  is  freend  in  existence 


From  him  that  is  by  apparence.         555° 

P'or  Infortune  makith  anoon 

To  knowe  thy  freendis  fro  thy  foon, 

By  experience,  right  as  it  is; 

The  which  is  more  to  preyse,  y-wis, 

Than  [is]  miche  richesse  and  tresour; 

For  more  [doth]  profit  and  valour    5556 

Poverte,  and  such  atlversitee, 

Bifore  than  doth  prospcritee; 

For  the  toon  yevcth  conisaunce, 

And  the  tother  ignoraunce.  55*^ 

'  And  thus  in  poverte  is  in  ded^ 
Trouthe  declared  fro  falsehede; 
For  feynte  frendis  it  wol  declare, 
And  trewe  also,  what  wey  they  fare. 
For  whan  he  was  in  his  richesse,       5565 
These  freendis,  ful  of  doublenesse, 
Offrid  him  in  many  wyse 
Hert  and  body,  and  servyse. 
What   wolde   he   than   ha    [yeve]   to  ha 

bought 
To  knowen  openly  her  thought,         557° 
That  he  now  hath  so  clerly  seen? 
The  lasse  bigyled  he  sholde  have  been 
And  he  hadde  than  perceyved  it, 
But  richesse  nold  not  late  him  wit. 
Wel  more  avauntage  doth  him  than,  5575 
Sith  that  it  makith  him  a  wys  man. 
The  greet  mischeef  that  he  [receyveth], 
Than  doth  richesse  that  him  deceyveth. 
Richesse  riche  ne  makith  nought 
Him  that  on  tresour  set  his  thought; 
For  richesse  stont  in  suffisaunce         55^1 
And  no-thing  in  habundaunce; 
For  suffisaunce  al-only 
Makith  men  to  live  richely. 
For  he  that  hath  [but]  miches  tweyne, 
Ne  [more]  value  in  his  demeigne,    5586 
Liveth  more  at  ese,  and  more  is  riche, 
Than  doth  he  that  is  [so]  chiche, 
And  in  his  bern  hath,  soth  to  seyn,   5589 
An  hundred  [muwis]  of  whete  greyn. 
Though  he  be  chapman  or  marchaunt. 
And  have  of  golde  many  besaunt. 
For  in  the  geting  he  hath  such  wo, 
And  in  the  keping  drede  also, 
And  set  evermore  his  bisynesse  5595 

For  to  encrese,  and  not  to  lesse, 
For  to  augment  and  multiply. 
And  though  on  hepis  [it]  lye  him  by, 
Yit  never  shal  make  his  richesse 
Asseth  unto  his  gredinesse.  5600 

But  the  povre  that  recchith  nought. 


5002-5706.] 


THE   ROM  AUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


55 


Save  of  his  lyflode,  in  his  thought, 

Which  that  he  gctitli  with  his  travaile, 

He  dredith  nought  that  it  shal  faile, 

Thougl)  he  have  lytel  worldis  good,  5605 

Mete  and  driid<e,  and  esy  food, 

Upon  his  travel  ami  living, 

And  also  suffisaunt  clothing. 

Or  if  in  syknesse  that  he  falle, 

And  lothe  mete  and  drink  withalle,  5610 

Though  he  have  nought,  his  mete  to  by. 

He  shal  hithinke  him  iiastely. 

To  putte  him  out  of  al  daunger, 

That  he  of  mete  hath  no  mister; 

Or  that  he  may  with  litel  eke  5615 

Be  founden,  \\hyl  that  he  is  seke; 

Or  that  men  shul  him  here  in  hast, 

To  live,  til  his  syknesse  be  past. 

To  somme  maysondewe  bisyde;  5619 

He  cast  nought  what  shal  him  bityde. 

He  thinkith  nought  that  ever  he  shal 

Into  any  syknesse  falle. 

'  And  though  it  falle,  as  it  may  be, 
That  al  betyme  spare  shal  he 
As  niochel  as  shal  to  him  suffyce,       5625 
Whyl  he  is  syke  in  any  wyse. 
He  doth  [it],  for  that  he  wol  be 
Content  with  his  povertee 
Withoute  nede  of  any  man. 
So  miche  in  litel  have  he  can,  5630 

He  is  apayed  with  his  fortune; 
And  for  he  nil  be  importune 
Unto  no  wight,  ne  onerous, 
Nor  of  hir  goodes  coveitous; 
Therfore  he  spareth,  it  may  wel  been. 
His  pore  estat  for  to  sustene.  5636 

'Or  if  him  lust  not  for  to  spare. 
But  suffrith  forth,  as  nought  ne  ware, 
Atte  last  it  hapneth,  as  it  may. 
Right  unt(j  his  laste  day,  5640 

And  taketh  the  world  as  it  wolde  be; 
For  ever  in  herte  thenkith  he. 
The  soner  that  [the]  deeth  him  slo. 
To  paradys  the  soner  go 
He  shal,  there  for  to  live  in  blisse,    5645 
Where  that  he  shal  no  good  misse. 
Thider  he  hopith  god  shal  him  sende 
Aftir  his  wrecchid  lyves  ende. 
Pictagoras  himsilf  reherses. 
In  a  book  that  the  Golden  Verses     5650 
Is  clepid,  for  the  nobilitee 
Of  the  honourable  ditee  :  — 
"Than,  whan  thou  gost  thy  body  fro. 
Free  in  the  eir  thou  shalt  up  go, 


And  leven  al  humanitee,  5^55 

And  purely  live  in  deitee."  — 
He  is  a  fool,  withoutcn  were, 
That  trowith  have  his  countrc  here. 
"  In  erthe  is  not  our  countree," 
That  may  these  clerk  is  seyn  and  see 
In  Hoece  of  Consolacioun,  5661 

Where  it  is  maked  mencioun 
Of  our  countree  pleyn  at  the  eye, 
By  teching  of  philosophye. 
Where  lewid  men  might  lere  wit,       5665 
Whi)-so  that  wulde  translaten  it. 
If  he  he  sich  that  can  wel  live 
Aftir  his  rente  may  him  yive, 
And  not  desyreth  more  to  have. 
That  may  fro  povertee  him  save :       5670 
A  wys  man  seide,  as  we  may  seen. 
Is  no  man  wrecched,  but  he  it  wene. 
Be  he  king,  knight,  or  ribaud. 
And  many  a  ribaud  is  mery  and  baud. 
That  swinkith,  and  berith,  bothe  day  and 
night,  5675 

Many  a  burthen  of  gret  might. 
The  whiche  doth  him  lasse  offense. 
For  he  suffrith  in  pacience. 
They  laugh  and  daunce,  trippe  and  singe. 
And  ley  not  up  for  her  living,  5680 

But  in  the  tavern  al  dispendith 
The  winning  that  god  hem  sendith. 
Than  goth  he,  fardels  for  to  here. 
With  as  good  chere  as  he  dide  ere; 
To  swinke  and  traveile  he  not  feynith. 
For  for  to  robben  he  disdeynith;        5686 
But  right  anoon,  aftir  his  swinke, 
He  goth  to  tavern  for  to  drinke. 
Alle  these  ar  riche  in  abundaunce. 
That  can  thus  have  suffisaunce  5690 

Wel  more  than  can  an  usurere. 
As  god  wel  knowith,  withoute  were. 
For  an  usurer,  so  god  me  see, 
Shal  never  for  richesse  riche  bee. 
But  evermore  pore  and  indigent,       5695 
Scarce,  and  gredy  in  his  entent. 

'  For  soth  it  is,  whom  it  flisplese, 
Ther  may  no  marchaunt  live  at  ese, 
His  herte  in  sich  a  were  is  set. 
That  it  quik  brenneth  [more]  to  get,  5700 
Ne  never  shal  [enough  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  desire;  5705 

So  hote  he  brennith  in  the  fire 


56 


THE   ROM  AUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (B.) 


[5707-5808. 


Of  coveitise,  that  makith  him  wood 

To  purchase  other  mennes  good. 

He  undirfongith  a  gret  peyne, 

That  undirtakith  to  drinke  upSeyne;  5710 

For  the  more  he  drinkith,  ay 

The  more  he  leveth,  the  soth  to  say. 

[This  is  the]  thurst  of  fals  geting, 

That  last  ever  in  coveiting, 

And  the  anguisshe  and  distresse         5715 

With  the  fire  of  gredinesse. 

She  fighteth  with  him  ay,  and  stryveth, 

That  his  herte  asondre  ryveth; 

Such  gredinesse  him  assaylith, 

That    whan    he    most    hath,    most     he 

faylith.  5720 

'  Phisiciens  and  advocates 
Gon  right  liy  the  same  yates; 
They  selle  hir  science  for  winning, 
And  haunte  hir  crafte  for  greet  geting. 
Hir  winning  is  of  such  swetnesse,      5725 
That  if  a  man  falle  in  sikenesse, 
They  are  ful  glad,  for  hir  encrese; 
For  by  hir  wille,  withoute  lees, 
Everiche  man  shulde  be  seke, 
And    though    they   dye,   they   set   not   a 

leke.  5730 

After,  whan  they  the  gold  have  take, 
F"ul  litel  care  for  hem  they  make. 
They  wolde    that    fourty  were   seke   at 

onis. 
Ye,  two  hundred,  in  flesh  and  bonis, 
And  yit  two  thousand,  as  I  gesse,      5735 
For  to  encresen  her  richesse. 
They  wol  not  worchen,  in  no  wyse. 
But  for  lucre  and  coveityse; 
For  fysyk  ginneth  first  by^, 
The  fysycien  also  sothely;  574° 

And  sithen  it  goth  iro  fy  to  sy  ; 
To  truste  on  hem,  it  is  foly; 
For  they  nil,  in  no  maner  gree, 
Do  right  nought  for  charitee. 

'  Eke  in  the  same  secte  are  set       5745 
Alle  tho  that  prechen  for  to  get 
Worshipes,  honour,  and  richesse. 
Her  hertis  arn  in  greet  distresse, 
That  folk  [ne]  live  not  holily. 
But  aboven  al,  specialy,  5750 

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,     5755 
Though  they  be  fulle  of  cursidnesse. 


Not  liche  to  the  apostles  twelve. 

They  deceyvc  other  and  hem-selve; 

Bigyled  is  the  gyler  than. 

For  preching  of  a  cursed  man,  5760 

Though  [it]  to  other  may  profyte, 

Himsilf  availeth  not  a  myte; 

P'or  oft  good  predicacioun 

Cometh  of  evel  entencioun. 

To  him  not  vailith  his  preching,         5765 

Al  helpe  he  other  with  his  teching; 

For  where  they  good  ensaumple  take. 

There  is  he  with  veynglorie  shake. 

'  But  lat  us  leven  these  prechoures, 
And  speke  of  hem  that  in  her  toures  5770 
Hepe  up  her  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  binde,        5775 
Out  of  the  Sonne,  and  of  the  winde; 
They  putte  up  more  than  nede  ware, 
Whan  they  seen  pore  folk  forfare. 
For  hunger  dye,  and  for  coUl  quake; 
God  can  wel  vengeaunce  therof  take. 
[  Thre]  gret  mischeves  hem  assailith, 
And  thus  in  gadring  ay  travaylith; 
With  moche  peyne  they  winne  richesse; 
And  drede  hem  holdith  in  distresse. 
To  kepe  that  they  gadre  faste;  57^5 

With  sorwe  they  leve  it  at  the  laste; 
With  sorwe  they  bothe  dye  and  live. 
That  to  richesse  her  hertis  yive. 
And  in  defaute  of  love  it  is, 
As  it  shewith  ful  wel,  y-wis.  579° 

For  if  these  gredy,  the  sothe  to  seyn, 
Loveden,  and  were  loved  ageyn. 
And  good  love  regned  over-alle. 
Such  wikkidnesse  ne  shulde  falle; 
But    he    shulde    yeve    that   most   good 
had  5795 

To  hem  that  weren  in  nede  bistad, 
And  live  withoute  fals  usure, 
For  charitee  ful  clene  and  pure. 
If  they  hem  yeve  to  goodnesse, 
Defending  hem  from  ydelnesse,  5800 

In  al  this  world  than  pore  noon 
We  shulde  finde,  I  trowe,  not  oon. 
But  chaunged  is  this  world  unstable; 
For  love  is  over-al  vendable. 
We  see  that  no  man  loveth  now        5805 
But  for  winning  and  for  prow; 
And  love  is  thralled  in  servage 
Whan  it  is  sold  for  avauntage; 


5809-5905- ] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


57 


Vit  wonimen  vvol  hir  bodies  selle;      5809 
Suclic  soules  goth  tu  the  dcvcl  of  hclle.' 

\_IIere  ends  1.  5 1 70  of  the  F.  text.  A 
great  gap  follows.  I'he  next  line  an- 
swers to  1.  107 1 7  of  the  samc.'\ 


FRAGMENT  C. 

Whan  Love  had  told  hem  his  entente, 

The  l>aronage  to  councel  wente; 

In  many  sentences  ihey  fille, 

And  dyvcrsly  they  seide  hir  wille : 

Bui  aftir  discord  ihey  accorded,         5815 

And  hir  accord  to  Love  recorded. 

'  Sir,'  seiden  they,  '  we  been  at  oon, 

By  even  accord  of  everichoon, 

Out-take  Richesse  al  only. 

That  svvoren  hath  ful  hauteynly,        5820 

That  she  the  castel  nil  assaile, 

Ne  smyte  a  stroke  in  this  bataile, 

\Yith  dart,  ne  mace,  spere,  ne  knyf, 

For  man  that  sj^eketh  or  bereth  the  lyf, 

And  blameth  your  empryse,  y-wis,    5825 

And  from  our  hoost  departed  is, 

(At  leeste  wey,  as  in  this  plyte,) 

So  hath  she  this  man  in  dispyte; 

For  she  seith  he  ne  loved  hir  never. 

And  therfor  she  wol  hate  him  ever.  5830 

For  he  wol  gadre  no  tresore. 

He  hath  hir  wrath  for  evermore. 

He  agilte  hir  never  in  other  caas, 

Lo,  here  al  hoolly  his  trespas ! 

She  seith  wel,  that  this  other  day      5835 

He  asked  hir  leve  to  goon  the  way 

That  is  clepid  To-moche-Yeving, 

And  spak  ful  faire  in  his  praying; 

But  whan  he  prayde  hir,  pore  was  he, 

Therfore  she  warned  him  the  entree.  5840 

Ne  yit  is  he  not  thriven  so 

That  he  hath  geten  a  peny  or  two. 

That  quitly  is  his  owne  in  hold. 

Thus  hath  Richesse  us  alle  told; 

And  whan  Richesse  us  this  recorded, 

Withouten  hir  we  been  accorded.      5846 

'  .\nd  we  finde  in  our  accordaunce. 
That  False-Semblant  and  Abstinaunce, 
With  alle  the  folk  of  hir  bataile, 
Shulle  at  the  hinder  gate  assayle,      5850 
That  Wikkid-Tunge  hath  in  keping, 
W^ith  his  Normans,  fulle  of  langling. 
And  with  hem  Curtesie  and  Largesse, 


That  shulle  shewe  hir  hardinesse 

To  the  olde  wyf  that  [kepeth]  so  harde 

Fair- Welcoming  within  her  warde.    5856 

Than  shal  Delyte  and  Wel-Helinge 

Fonde  Shame  adoun  to  bringe; 

With  al  hir  hoost,  erly  and  late. 

They  shulle  assailen  [thilke]  gate.    5860 

Agaynes  Drede  shal  Hardinesse 

Assayle,  and  also  Sikernesse, 

With  al  the  folk  of  hir  leding, 

That  never  wist  what  was  fleing. 

'  Fraunchyse  shal  lighte,  and  eek  Pitee, 
With  Daunger  ful  of  crueltee.  5866 

Thus  is  your  hoost  ordeyned  wel; 
Doun  shal  the  castel  every  del, 
If  everiche  do  his  entente. 
So  that  Venus  be  presente,  5^70 

Your  modir,  ful  of  vassalage. 
That  can  y-nough  of  such  usage; 
Withouten  hir  may  no  wight  spede 
This  werk,  neither  for  word  ne  dede. 
Therfore  is  good  ye  for  hir  sende,     5875 
P'or  thurgh  hir  may  this  werk  amende.' 

Amour.    '  Lordinges,    my    modir,   the 
goddesse. 
That  is  my  lady,  and  my  maistresse, 
Nis  not  [at]  al  at  my  willing, 
Ne  doth  not  al  my  desyring.  5880 

Yit  can  she  som-tyme  doon  labour, 
Whan  that  hir  lust,  in  my  socour, 
[Al  my  nedis]  for  to  acheve. 
But  now  1  thenke  hir  not  to  greve. 
My  modir  is  she,  and  of  childhede    5885 
I  bothe  worshipe  hir,  and  eek  drede; 
For  who  that  dredith  sire  ne  dame 
Shal  it  abye  in  body  or  name. 
And,  natheles,  yit  cunne  we 
Sende  aftir  hir,  if  nede  be;  5890 

And  were  she  nigh,  she  comen  wolde, 
I  trowe  that  no-thing  might  hir  holde. 

'  My  modir  is  of  greet  prowesse; 
She  hath  tan  many  a  forteresse, 
That  cost  hath  many  a  pound  er  this, 
Ther  I  nas  not  present,  y-wis;  5896 

And  yit  men  seide  it  was  my  dede; 
But  I  come  never  in  that  stede; 
Ne  me  ne  lykith,  so  mote  I  thee, 
Such  toures  take  withoute  me.  5900 

For-why  me  thenktth  that,  in  no  wyse, 
It  may  been  cleped  but  marchandise. 

'  Go  bye  a  courser,  blak  or  whyte. 
And  pay  therfor;   than  art  thou  qu\1;e. 
The  marchaunt  oweth  thee  right  nought, 


58 


THE    ROMAUNT   OF  THE    ROSE.     (C.) 


[5906-601 1. 


Nethou  him,  whan  thou  [hast]  it  bought. 

I  wol  not  selling;  clepe  ycving, 

For  selling  axeth  no  guerdoning; 

1  lere  lyth  no  thank,  ne  no  meryte, 

That  con  goth  from  that  other  al  quyte. 

]^>ut  this  selling  is  not  semblable;       591 1 

For,  whan  his  hors  is  in  the  stable, 

lie  may  it  selle  ageyn,  pardee, 

And  winne  on  it,  such  hap  may  be; 

Al  may  the  man  not  lese,  y-wis,  5915 

For  at  the  leest  the  skin  is  his. 

Or  elles,  if  it  so  bityde 

'I'hat  he  wol  kepe  his  hors  to  ryde, 

Yit  is  he  lord  ay  of  his  hors. 

])Ut  thilke  chaffare  is  wel  wors,  5920 

There  Venus  entremeteth  nought; 

For  who-so  such  chaffare  hath  bought. 

He  shal  not  worchen  so  wysly, 
That  he  ne  shal  lese  al  outerly 

Bolhe  his  money  and  his  chaffare;    5925 

But  the  seller  of  the  ware 

The  prys  and  profit  have  shal. 

Certeyn,  the  byer  shal  lese  al; 

For  he  ne  can  so  dere  it  bye 

To  have  lordship  and  ful  maistrye,    5930 

Ne  have  power  to  make  letting 

Neither  for  yift  ne  for  preching, 

That  of  his  chaffare,  maugre  his, 

Another  shal  have  as  moche,  y-wis, 

If  he  wol  yeve  as  moche  as  he,  5935 

Of  what  contrey  so  that  he  be; 

Or  for  right  nought,  so  happe  may, 

If  he  can  fiater  hir  to  hir  pay. 

Ben  than  suche  marchaunts  wyse? 

No,  but  fooles  in  every  wyse,  594° 

Whan  they  bye  such  thing  wilfully, 

Ther-as  they  lese  her  good  [fully]. 

But  nathelcs,  this  dar  I  saye. 

My  modir  is  not  wont  to  paye, 

I'or  she  is  neither  so  fool  ne  nyce,     5945 

To  entremete  hir  of  sich  vyce. 

But  truste  wel,  he  shal  paye  al. 

That  repente  of  his  bargeyn  shal. 

Whan  Poverte  put  him  in  distresse, 

Al  were  he  scoler  to  Richesse,  595° 

That  is  for  me  in  gret  yerning, 

Whan  she  assenteth  to  my  willing. 

'  But,  [by]  my  modir  seint  Venus, 
And  by  hir  fader  Saturnus, 
That  hir  engendrid  by  his  lyf,  5955 

But  not  upon  his  weddid  wyf ! 
Yit  wol  I  more  unto  you  swere. 
To  make  this  thing  the  seurere; 


Now  by  that  feith,  and  that  leautee 

I  owe  to  alle  my  brethren  free,  5960 

Of  which  ther  nis  wight  under  heven 

That  can  her  fadris  names  neven, 

So  dyvers  and  so  many  ther  be 

That  with  my  modir  have  be  privee  ! 

Yit  wolde  I  swere,  for  sikirnesse,       5965 

The  pole  of  helle  to  my  witnesse, 

Now  drinke  I  not  this  yeer  clarree, 

If  that  I  lye,  or  forsworn  be  ! 

(F'or  of  the  goddes  the  usage  is. 

That  who-so  him  forswereth  amis,    5970 

Shal  that  yeer  drinke  no  clarree). 

Now  have  I  sworn  y-nough,  pardee; 

If  I  forswere  me,  than  am  I  lorn, 

But  I  wol  never  be  forsworn. 

Sith  Richesse  hath  me  failed  here,    5975 

She  shal  abye  that  trespas  dere. 

At  leeste  wey,  but  [she]  hir  arme 

With  swerd,  or  sparth,  or  gisarme. 

For  certes,  sith  she  loveth  not  me, 

Fro  thilke  tyme  that  she  may  see       5980 

The  castel  and  the  tour  to-shake, 

In  sory  tyme  she  shal  awake. 

If  I  may  grype  a  riche  man, 

I  shal  so  puUe  him,  if  I  can, 

That  he  shal,  in  a  fewe  stoundes,      5985 

Lese  alle  his  markes  and  his  poundes. 

I  shal  make  him  his  pens  outslinge, 

But-[if]  they  in  his  gerner  springe; 

Our  maydens  shal  eek  plukke  him  so, 

That  him  shal  neden  fetheres  mo,      5990 

And  make  him  selle  his  lond  to  spende, 

But  he  the  bet  cunne  him  defende. 

'  Pore  men  han  maad  hir  lord  of  me; 
Although  they  not  so  mighty  be, 
That  they  may  fede  me  in  delyt,         5995 
I  wol  not  have  hem  in  despyt. 
No  good  man  hateth  hem,  as  I  gesse, 
For  chinche  and  feloun  is  Richesse, 
That  so  can  chase  hem  and  dispyse, 
And  hem  defoule  in  sundry  wyse.      6000 
They  loven  ful  bet,  so  god  me  spede, 
Than  doth  the  riche,  chinchy  grede, 
And  been,  in  good  feith,  more  stable 
And  trewer,  and  more  serviable; 
And  therfore  it  suffysith  me  6005 

Hir  good  herte,  and  hir  leautee. 
They  han  on  me  set  al  hir  thought, 
And  therfore  I  forgete  hem  nought. 
I  wolde  hem  bringe  in  greet  noblesse, 
If  that  I  were  god  of  Richesse,  6010 

As  I  am  god  of  Love,  sothly, 


6oi2-6ii4.] 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


59 


Such  routhe  upon  hir  pleynt  have  I. 
Thcrfore  I  must  his  socour  be, 
'I'hat  peyneth  him  to  servenme; 
For  if  he  deyde  for  love  of  this,  6015 

Than  someth  in  me  no  love  ther  is.' 

'  Sir,'  seide  they,  'sooth  is,  every  del, 
That  ye  reherce,  and  we  wot  wel 
Thilk  oth  to  holde  is  resonable; 
For  it  is  good  and  covenahle,  6020 

That  ye  on  riche  men  han  sworn. 
For,  sir,  this  wot  we  wel  biforn; 
If  riche  men  doon  you  homage, 
That  is  as  f(H)ls  doon  outrage; 
r>ut  yc  sliul  not  forsworen  be,  6025 

Ne  let  ttierfore  to  chinke  clarree, 
Or  jiimeiit  maked  fresh  and  newe. 
Ladyes  shuUe  hem  such  pepir  brewe, 
If  that  they  falle  into  hir  laas. 
That  tliey  for  wo  mowe  seyn  "  Alias !  " 
Ladyes  shuln  ever  so  curteis  be,         6031 
That  they  shal  quyte  your  oth  al  free. 
Ne  seketh  never  other  vicaire. 
For  they  shall  speke  with  hem  so  faire 
That  ye  shal  holde  you  payed  ful  wel. 
Though  ye  you  medle  never  a  del.    6036 
Lat  ladies  worche  with  hir  thinges. 
They  shal  hem  telle  so  fele  tydinges, 
And  moeve  hem  eke  so  many  requestis 
By  flatery,  that  not  honest  is,  6040 

And  therto  yeve  hem  such  thankinges, 
What  with  kissing,  and  with  talkinges, 
That  certes,  if  they  trowed  be, 
Shal  never  leve  hem  lond  ne  fee 
That  it  nil  as  the  nioeble  fare,  6045 

Of  which  they  first  delivered  are. 
Now  may  ye  telle  us  al  your  vville, 
And  we  your  hestes  shal  fulfille. 

'  But  Fals-Seml)lant  dar  not,  for  drede 
Of  you,  sir,  medle  him  of  this  dede,  6050 
For  he  seith  that  ye  been  his  fo; 
He  not,  if  ye  wol  worche  him  wo. 
Wherfore  we  pray  you  alle,  beausire, 
That  ye  forgive  him  now  your  ire. 
And  that  he  may  dwelle,  as  your  man, 
With  Al)Stinence,  his  dere  lemman;  6056 
This  our  accord  and. our  wil  now.' 

'  Parfay,'    seide    Love,    '  I   graunte   it 

yow; 
I  wol  wel  holde  him  for  my  man; 
Now  lat  him  come : '  and  he  forth  ran. 
'  Fals-Semblant,'    quod    Love,    '  in    this 

wyse  6061 

I  take  thee  here  to  my  servyse, 


That  thou  our  freendis  helpe  alway, 

And  hindre  hem  neithir  night  ne  day, 

]5ut  do  thy  might  hem  to  releve,        6065 

And  eek  our  enemies  that  thou  greve. 

Thyn  l)e  this  might,  I  graunt  it  tliee. 

My  king  of  harlotes  shalt  tliou  be; 

We  wol  that  thou  have  such  honour. 

Certeyn,  thou  art  a  fals  traitour,         6070 

And  eek  a  theef;   sith  thou  were  born, 

A  tliousand  tyme  thou  art  forsworn. 

But,  natheles,  in  our  hering. 

To  putte  our  folk  out  of  douting, 

I  l)i(l  thee  teche  hem,  wostow  how?  6075 

15y  somme  general  signc  now, 

111  \\hat  place  thou  shalt  founden  be, 

If  that  men  had  mister  of  thee; 

And  how  men  shal  thee  best  espye, 

P'or  thee  to  knowe  is  greet  maistrye; 

Tel  in  what  place  is  thyn  haunting.' 6081 

F.  Sem.  '  Sir,  I  have  fele  dyvers  vvon- 
ing. 
That  1  kepe  not  rehersed  be, 
So  that  ye  wolde  respyten  me. 
For  if  that  I  telle  you  the  sothe,        6085 
I  may  have  harm  and  shame  bothe. 
If  that  my  felowes  wisten  it. 
My  tales  shulden  me  be  quit; 
For  certeyn,  they  wolde  hate  me. 
If  ever  I  knewe  hir  cruelte;  6090 

For  they  wolde  over-al  holde  hem  stille 
Of  trouthe  that  is  ageyn  hir  wille; 
Suche  tales  kepen  they  not  here. 
I  might  eftsone  bye  it  ful  dere. 
If  I  seide  of  hem  any  thing,  6095 

That  ought  displeseth  to  hir  hering. 
For  w  hat  word  that  hem  prikke  or  byteth, 
In  that  word  noon  of  hem  delyteth, 
Al  were  it  gospel,  the  evangyle. 
That  wolde  reprove  hem  of  hir  gyle,  6100 
For  they  are  cruel  and  hauteyn. 
And  this  thing  wot  I  wel,  certeyn, 
If  I  speke  ought  to  peire  hir  loos. 
Your  court  shal  not  so  wel  be  cloos. 
That  they  ne  shal  wite  it  atte  last.     6105 
Of  good  men  am  I  nought  agast. 
For  they  wol  taken  on  hem  no-thing. 
Whan  that  they  knowe  al  my  mening; 
But  he  that  wol  it  on  him  take, 
He  wol  himself  suspecious  make,      61  lO 
That  he  his  lyf  let  covertly. 
In  Gyle  and  in  Ipocrisy, 
That  me  engendred  and  yaf  fostring.' 

'They  made  a  ful  good  engendring,' 


6o 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF    TIIK    ROSE.     (C.) 


[6i 15-6218. 


Quod  Love,  '  for  who-so  soothly  telle, 
They  engendred  the  (level  of  helle  !  61 16 

'  But  nedely,  how-so-ever  it  be,' 
Quod  Love,  '  I  wol  and  charge  thee, 
To  telle  anoon  thy  woning-places, 
Ileriiig  ech  wight  that  in  this  place  is; 
And  what  lyf  that  thou  livest  also,    61 21 
Hy<lc  it  no  lenger  now;    wherto? 
Thou  most  discover  al  thy  wurching. 
How  thou  servest,  and  of  what  thing. 
Though  that  thou  shuldest  for  thy  soth- 
sawe  6125 

Ben  al  to-beten  and  to-drawe; 
And  yit  art  thou  not  wont,  pardee. 
But  natheles,  though  thou  beten  be, 
Thou  shall  not  be  the  first,  that  so 
Hath  for  soth-sawe  suffred  wo.'         6130 

F.  Sem.  '  Sir,  sith  that  it  may  lyken 
you. 
Though  that  I  shulde  be  slayn  right  now, 
I  shal  don  your  comaundement, 
For  therto  have  I  gret  talent.' 

Withouten  wordes  mo,  right  than, 
Fals-Semblant  his  sermon  bigan,       6136 
And  seide  hem  thus  in  audience:  — 
'  Barouns,  tak  hede  of  my  sentence  ! 
That  wight  that  list  to  have  knowing 
Of  Fals-Semblant,  ful  of  flatering,     6140 
He  must  in  worldly  folk  him  seke. 
And,  certes,  in  the  cloistres  eke; 
I  wone  no-where  but  in  hem  tweye; 
But  not  lyk  even,  sooth  to  seye; 
Shortly,  I  wol  herberwe  me  6145 

There  I  hope  best  to  hulstred  be; 
And  certeynly,  sikerest  hyding 
Is  undirneth  humblest  clothing. 

'Religious  folk  ben  ful  covert; 
vSeculer  folk  ben  more  appert.  6150 

But  natheles,  I  wol  not  blame 
Religious  folk,  ne  hem  diffame, 
In  what  habit  that  ever  they  go : 
Religioun  humble,  and  trewe  also, 
Wol  I  not  blame,  ne  dispyse,  6155 

But  I  nil  love  it,  in  no  wyse. 
I  mene  of  fals  religious, 
That  stoute  ben,  and  malicious; 
That  wolen  in  an  abit  go. 
And  setten  not  hir  herte  therto.         6160 

'  Religious  folk  ben  al  pitous; 
Thou  shall  not  seen  oon  dispilous. 
They  loven  no  pryde,  ne  no  stryf. 
But  humbly  they  wol  lede  hir  lyf; 
With  swich  folk  wol  I  never  be.        6165 


And  if  I  dwelle,  I  feyne  me 

I  may  wel  in  her  abit  go; 

But  me  were  lever  my  nekke  atwo. 

Than  Icte  a  purpcjse  that  1  take, 

What  covenaunt  that  ever  1  make.   6170 

I  dwclle  with  hem  that  pr(jude  be, 

And  fulle  of  v\'yles  and  suljtelte; 

That  worship  of  this  world  coveyten. 

And  grete  nedes  cunne  espleyten;     6174 

And  goon  and  gadren  greet  pitaunces. 

And  purchace  hem  the  acqueyntaunces 

Of  men  that  mighty  lyf  may  leden; 

And  feyne  hem  pore,  and  hem-self  feden 

With  gode  morcels  delicious. 

And  drinken  good  wyn  precious,       6180 

And  preche  us  povert  and  distresse, 

And  fisshen  hem-self  greet  richesse 

With  wyly  nettis  that  they  caste : 

It  wol  come  foul  out  at  the  laste. 

They  ben  fro  clene  religioun  went;   6185 

They  make  the  world  an  argument 

That  hath  a  foul  conclusioun. 

"  I  have  a  rolje  of  religioun, 

Than  am  I  al  religious:  " 

This  argument  is  al  roignous;  6190 

It  is  not  worth  a  croked  brere; 

Habit  ne  maketh  monk  ne  frere, 

But  clene  lyf  and  devocioun 

Maketh  gode  men  of  religioun. 

Nathelesse,  ther  can  noon  answere,  6195 

How  high  that  ever  his  heed  he  shere 

With  rasour  whetted  never  so  kene. 

That  Gyle  in  braunches  cut  thrittene; 

Ther  can  no  wight  distincte  it  so. 

That  he  dar  sey  a  word  therto.  6200 

'  But  what  herberwe  that  ever  I  take, 
Or  what  semblant  that  ever  I  make, 
I  mene  but  gyle,  and  folowe  that; 
For  right  no  mo  than  Gibbe  our  cat 
[Fro  myce  and  rattes  went  his  wyle],  6205 
Ne  entende  I  [not]  but  to  begyle; 
Ne  no  wight  may,  by  my  clothing, 
Wite  with  what  folk  is  my  dwelling; 
Ne  by  my  wordis  yet,  pardee. 
So  softe  and  so  plesaunt  they  be.       6210 
Bihold  the  dedis  that  I  do; 
But  thou  be  blind,  thou  oughtest  so; 
For,  varie  hir  wordis  fro  hir  dede, 
They  thenke  on  gyle,  withouten  drede, 
What  maner  clothing  that  they  were,  6215 
Or  what  estat  that  ever  they  here, 
Lered  or  lewd,  lord  or  lady. 
Knight,  squier,  burgeis,  or  bayly.' 


6219-6320.] 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE  ROSE.     (C.) 


61 


Right    thus    whyl    Fals-Seml)lant    ser- 
nioneth, 
Kftsones  Love  him  aresoneth,  6220 

And  i)rak  his  tale  in  the  speking 
As  though  he  hatl  him  told  lesing; 
And  seide  :   '  What,  devel,  is  that  1  here? 
What  folk  hast  thou  us  nempned  here? 
May  men  find  religioun  6225 

In  worldly  habitacioun? ' 

/'".    .SVw.     'Ye,   sir;    it    folovveth    not 
that  they 
Shulde  lede  a  wikked  lyf,  parfey, 
Ne  not  therfore  her  soules  lese, 
That  hem  to  worldly  clothes  chese  ;  6230 
For,  certis,  it  were  gret  pitee. 
Men  may  in  seculer  clothes  see 
Florisshen  holy  religioun. 
Ful  many  a  seynt  in  feeld  and  toun. 
With  many  a  virgin  glorious,  6235 

Devout,  and  ful  religious, 
Had  deyed,  that  comun  clothe  ay  beren, 
Yit  seyntes  never-the-les  they  weren. 
I  coude  reken  you  many  a  ten;  6239 

Ye,  wel  nigh  alle  these  holy  wimmen, 
That  men  in  chirchis  herie  and  seke, 
Bothe  maydens,  and  these  wyves  eke, 
That  baren  many  a  fair  child  here, 
Wered  alwey  clothis  seculere. 
And  in  the  same  dyden  they,  6245 

That  seyntes  weren,  and  been  alwey. 
The  eleven  thousand  maydens  dere. 
That  beren  in  heven  hir  ciergis  clere. 
Of  which  men  rede  in  chirche,  and  singe, 
Were  take  in  seculer  clothing,  6250 

Whan  they  resseyved  martirdom, 
And  wonnen  heven  unto  her  hoom. 
Good  herte  makith  the  gode  thought; 
The  clothing  yeveth  ne  reveth  nought. 
Tlie  gode  thought  and  the  worching,  6255 
That  maketh  religioun  flowring, 
llier  lyth  the  good  religioun 
Aftir  the  right  entencioun. 

'  Who-so  toke  a  wethers  skin, 
And  wrapped  a  gredy  wolf  therein,  6260 
For  he  shulde  go  with  lambis  whyte, 
Whenest  thou  not  he  vvolde  hem  byte? 
Yis !   never-the-las,  as  he  were  wood. 
He   wolde    hem    wery,    and    drinke    the 

blood ; 
And  wel  the  rather  hem  disceyve,     6265 
I' or,  sith  they  coude  not  perceyve 
His  treget  and  his  crueltee, 
They  vvolde  him  folowe,  al  wolde  he  flee. 


'  If  ther  be  wolves  of  sich  hewe 
Amonges  these  apostlis  newe,  6270 

Thou,  holy  chirche,  thou  mayst  be  wayled  ! 
Sith  that  thy  citee  is  assayled 
Thourgh  knightis  of  thyn  owne  table, 
God  wot  thy  lordship  is  doutable ! 
If  they  enforce  [hem]  it  to  winne,   6275 
That  shulde  defende  it  fro  withinne. 
Who  might  defence  ayens  hem  make? 
Withouten  stroke  it  mot  be  take 
Of  trepeget  or  mangonel; 
Without  displaying  of  pensel.  6280 

And  if  god  nil  don  it  socour. 
Rut  lat  [hem]  renne  in  this  colour, 
Thou  moost  thyn  heestis  laten  be. 
Than  is  ther  nought,  but  yelde  thee, 
Or  yeve  hem  tribute,  doutelees,         6285 
And  holde  it  of  hem  to  have  pees: 
But  gretter  harm  bityde  thee. 
That  they  al  maister  of  it  be. 
Wel  conne  they  scorne  thee  withal; 
By  day  stuffen  they  the  wal,  6290 

And  al  the  night  they  mynen  there. 
Nay,  thou  most  planten  elleswhere 
Thyn  impes,  if  thou  wolt  fruyt  have; 
Abyd  not  there  thy-self  to  save. 

'  But  now  pees  !  here  I  turne  ageyn; 
I  wol  no  more  of  this  thing  seyn,       6296 
If  I  may  passen  me  herby; 
I  mighte  maken  you  wery. 
But  I  wol  heten  you  alway 
To  helpe  your  freendis  what  I  may,  6300 
So  they  wollen  my  company; 
For  they  be  shent  al-outerly 
But-if  so  falle,  that  I  be 
Oft  with  hem,  and  they  with  me. 
And  eek  my  lemman  mot  they  serve,  6305 
Or  they  shtrt  not  my  love  deserve. 
Forsothe,  I  am  a  fals  traitour; 
God  lugged  me  for  a  theef  trichour; 
Forsworn  I  am,  but  wel  nygh  non 
Wot  of  my  gyle,  til  it  be  don.  6310 

'  Thourgh    me    hath    many    oon    deth 
resseyved, 
That  my  treget  never  aperceyved; 
And  yit  resseyveth,  and  shal  resseyve, 
That  my  falsnesse  never  aperceyve: 
But  who-so  doth,  if  he  wys  be,  6315 

Him  is  right  good  be  war  of  me. 
l!ut  so  sligh  is  the  [deceyving 
That  to  hard  is  the]  aperceyving. 
l'"or  I'rotheus,  that  coude  him  chaunge 
In  every  shap,  hoomly  ami  straunge,  C320 


62 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


[6321-6425. 


Coude  never  sich  gyle  ne  tresoun 

As  I;    for  I  com  never  in  toun 

Ther-as  I  mighte  knovven  be, 

Though  men  me  bothe  might  here  and 

see. 
Ful  wel  I  can  my  clothis  chaunge,     6325 
Take  oon,  and  make  another  straunge. 
Now  am  I  knight,  now  chasteleyn; 
Now  prelat,  and  now  chapeleyn; 
Now  prest,  now  clerk,  and  now  forstere; 
Now  am  I  maister,  now  scolere;         6330 
Now  mcjnk,  now  chanoun,  now  baily; 
What-ever  mister  man  am  I. 
Now  am  I  prince,  now  am  I  page. 
And  can  by  herte  every  langage. 
Som-tyme  am  I  hoor  and  old;  6335 

Now  am  I  yong,  [and]  stout,  and  bold; 
Now  am  I  Robert,  now  Robyn; 
Now  frere  Menour,  now  lacobyn; 
And  with  me  folweth  my  loteby, 
To  don  me  solas  and  company,  6340 

That  hight  dame  Abstinence-Streyned, 
In  many  a  queynt  array  [y]-feyned. 
Right  as  it  cometh  to  hir  lyking, 
I  fullille  al  hir  desiring. 
Somtyme  a  wommans  cloth  take  I;   6345 
Now  am  I  mayde,  now  lady. 
Sometyme  I  am  religious; 
Now  lyk  an  anker  in  an  hous. 
.Somtyme  am  I  prioresse, 
And  now  a  nonne,  and  now  abbesse; 
And  go  thurgh  alle  regiouns,  6351 

Seking  alle  religiouns. 
But  to  what  ordre  that  I  am  sworn, 
I  take  the  strawe,  and  lete  the  corn; 
To  [blynde]  folk  [ther]  I  enhabite,  6355 
I  axe  no-more  but  hir  abite. 
What  wol  ye  more?  in  every  wyse, 
Right  as  me  list,  I  me  disgyse. 
Wel  can  I  bere  me  under  weed; 
Unlyk  is  my  word  to  my  deed.  6360 

Thus  make  I  in  my  trappis  falle, 
Thurgh  my  pryvileges,  alle 
That  ben  in  Cristendom  alyve. 
I  may  assoile,  and  I  may  shryve, 
That  no  prelat  may  lette  me,  6365 

Al  folk,  wher-ever  they  founde  be : 
I  noot  no  prelat  may  don  so, 
But  it  the  pope  be,  and  no  mo, 
That  made  thilk  establisshing. 
Now  is  not  this  a  propre  thing?         6370 
But,  were  my  sleightis  aperceyved, 
[Ne  shulde  I  more  been  receyved] 


As  I  was  wont;    and  wostow  why  ? 

For  I  dide  hem  a  tregetry; 

But  therof  yeve  I  litel  tale,  6375 

I  have  the  silver  and  the  male; 

So  have  I  preched  and  eek  shriven, 

So  have  I  take,  so  have  [me]  yiven, 

Thurgh  hir  foly,  husbond  and  wyf, 

That  I  lede  right  a  loly  lyf,  6380 

Thurgh  simplesse  of  the  prelacye; 

They  know  not  al  my  tregetrye. 

'  But  for  as  moche  as  man  and  wyf 
Shuld  shewe  hir  paroche-prest  hir  lyf 
Ones  a  yeer,  as  seith  the  book,  6385 

Er  any  wight  his  housel  took. 
Than  have  I  pryvilegis  large. 
That  may  of  moche  thing  discharge; 
For  he  may  seye  right  thus,  pardee :  — 
"  Sir  Freest,  in  shrift  I  telle  it  thee,  6390 
That  he,  to  whom  that  I  am  shriven, 
Hath  me  assoiled,  and  me  yiven 
Penaunce  soothly,  for  my  sinne, 
Which  that  I  fond  me  gilty  inne; 
Ne  I  ne  have  never  entencioun  6395 

To  make  double  confessioun, 
Ne  reherce  eft  my  shrift  to  thee; 

0  shrift  is  right  y-nough  to  me. 
This  oughte  thee  suffyce  wel, 

Ne  be  not  rebel  never-a-del;  6400 

For  certis,  though  thou  haddest  it  sworn, 

1  wot  no  prest  ne  prelat  born 

That  may  to  shrift*eft  me  constreyne. 

And  if  they  don,  I  wol  me  pleyne; 

For  I  wot  where  to  pleyne  wel.  6405 

Thou  shall  not  streyne  me  a  del, 

Ne  enforce  me,  ne  [yit]  me  trouble. 

To  make  my  confessioun  double. 

Ne  I  have  none  affeccioun 

To  have  double  absolucioun.  6410 

The  lirste  is  right  y-nough  to  me; 

This  latter  assoiling  quyte  I  thee. 

I  am  unbounde;    what  mayst  thou  finde 

More  of  my  sinnes  me  to  unl^inde? 

For  he,  that  might  hath  in  his  bond, 

Of  alle  my  sinnes  me  unbond.  6416 

And  if  thou  wolt  me  thus  constreyne, 

That  me  mot  nedis  on  thee  pleyne, 

There  shal  no  lugge  imperial, 

Ne  bisshop,  ne  official,  6420 

Don  lugement  on  me;    for  I 

Shal  gon  and  pleyne  me  openly 

Unto  my  shrift-fadir  newe, 

(That  hight  not  Frere  Wolf  untrewe  !) 

And  he  shal  chevise  him  for  me,        6425 


6426-6523.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


63 


For  I  trowe  he  can  hampre  thee. 

But,  lord  !   he  wolde  be  wrooth  withalle, 

If  men  him  wulde  Frcre  Wolf  calle  ! 

For  he  wolde  have  no  pacience, 

l)Ut  don  al  cruel  vcngeaunce !  6430 

He  wolde  his  might  don  at  the  leest, 

[Ne]  no-thing  spare  for  goddis  heest. 

And,  ginl  so  wis  he  my  socour, 

l)Ut  thou  yeve  me  my  Saviour 

At  Kster,  whan  it  lyketh  me,  6435 

Withoute  presing  more  on  thee, 

I  wol  forth,  and  to  him  goon, 

And  he  shal  housel  me  anoon, 

For  I  am  out  of  thy  grucching;  6439 

I  kepe  not  dele  with  thee  no-thing." 

Thus  may  he  shryvc  him,  that  forsaketh 

His  paroche-presl,  and  to  me  taketh. 

And  if  the  prcst  wol  him  refuse, 

I  am  ful  redy  him  to  accuse. 

And  him  punisshe  and  hampre  so,    6445 

That  he  his  chirche  shal  forgo. 

'  But  who-so  hath  in  his  feling 
The  consequence  of  such  shryving, 
Shal   seen    that    prest    may   never   have 

might 
To  knowe  the  conscience  aright        6450 
Of  him  that  is  under  his  cure. 
And  this  ageyns  holy  scripture, 
That  biddeth  every  herde  honeste 
Have  verry  knowing  of  his  beste. 
But  pore  folk  that  goon  by  strete,      6455 
That  have  no  gold,  ne  sommes  grete, 
Hem  wolde  I  lete  to  her  prelates, 
Or  lete  hir  prestis  knowe  hir  states, 
For  to  me  right  nought  yeve  they.' 

Amour.    'And  why  is  it?' 

F.  Sem.  '  For  they  ne  may.    6460 

They  ben  so  bare,  I  take  no  keep; 
But  1  wol  have  the  fatte  sheep;  — 
Lat  parish  prestis  have  the  lene, 
I  yeve  not  of  hir  harm  a  bene  I 
And  if  that  prelats  grucchen  it,  6465 

That  oughten  wroth  be  in  hir  wit. 
To  lese  her  fatte  bestes  so, 
I  shal  yeve  hem  a  stroke  or  two, 
That  they  shal  lesen  with  [the]  force, 
Ve,  bothe  hir  mytre  and  hir  croce.    6470 
Thus  lape  I  hem,  and  have  do  longe, 
My  priveleges  been  so  stronge.' 

Fals-Semblant  wolde  have  stinted  here, 
But  Love  ne  made  him  no  such  chere 
Tliat  he  was  wery  of  his  sawe;  6475 

But  for  to  make  him  glad  and  fawe, 


He  scide:  — 'Tel  on  more  specialy, 
How  that  thou  servest  untrewly. 
Tel  forth,  and  shame  thee  never  a  del; 
For  as  thyn  abit  shewith  wel,  6480 

Thou  [semestj  an  holy  heremyte.' 

/'".  Sein.  '  Soth  is,  iDut    I  am  an  ypo- 

cryte.' 
Amour.  '  Thou  gost  and  prechest  pov- 

ertee?  ' 
F.  Sem.    'Ye,  sir;    but  richesse    hath 

poustee.' 
Amour.    '  Thou    prechest    abstinence 
also  ? '  6485 

F.  Sem.    '  Sir,    I   wol   fiUen,  so   mote 

My  paunche  of  gode  mete  and  wyne, 

As  shulde  a  maister  of  divyne; 

For  how  that  I  me  pover  feyne, 

Yit  alle  pore  folk  I  disdeyne.  6490 

'  I  love  bet  the  acqueyntaunce 
Ten  tymes,  of  the  king  of  Fraunce, 
Than  of  pore  man  of  mylde  mode. 
Though  that  his  soule  be  also  gode. 
For  whan  I  see  beggers  quaking,       6495 
Naked  on  mixens  al  stinking. 
For  hungre  crye,  and  eek  for  care, 
I  entremete  not  of  hir  fare. 
They  been  so  pore,  and  ful  of  pyne, 
They  might  not  ones  yeve  me  dyne, 
For  they  have  no-thing  but  hir  lyf;    6501 
What  shulde    he  yeve  that   likketh    his 

knyf  ? 
It  is  but  foly  to  entremete, 
To  seke  in  houndes  nest  fat  mete. 
Let  here  hem  to  the  spitel  anoon,      6505 
But,  for  me,  comfort  gete  they  noon. 
But  a  riche  sike  usurere 
Wolde  I  visyte  and  drawe  nere; 
Him  wol  I  comforte  and  rehete, 
For  I  hope  of  his  gold  to  gete.  6510 

And  if  that  wikked  deth  him  have, 
I  wol  go  with  him  to  his  grave. 
And  if  ther  any  reprove  me. 
Why  that  I  lete  the  pore  be, 
Wostow  how  I  [mot]  ascape?  ^5 '5 

I  sey,  and  swere  him  ful  rape. 
That  riche  men  han  more  tecches 
Of  sinne,  than  han  pore  wrecches. 
And  han  of  counseil  more  mister; 
And  therfore  I  wol  drawe  hem  ner. 
Piut  as  gret  hurt,  it  may  so  be,  6521 

Hath  soule  in  right  gret  poverte, 
As  soul  in  gret  richesse,  forsothe, 


64 


THE  ROMAUNT  OF  THE  ROSE.     (C.) 


[6524-6629. 


Al-be-it  that  they  hurten  bothe. 

For  richesse  and  mendicitees  6525 

Ben  cleped  two  extreniitees; 

The  mene  is  cleped  suffisaunce, 

Ther  lyth  of  vertu  the  aljoundaunce. 

For  Salamon,  ful  wel  I  woot, 

In  his  Parables  us  wroot,  6530 

As  it  is  knowe  of  many  a  wight, 

In  his  [thrittethe]  chapitre  right: 

"God,  thou  me  kepe,  for  thy  poustee, 

Fro  richesse  and  mendicitee; 

P'or  if  a  riche  man  him  dresse  6535 

To  thenke  to  moche  on  [his]  richesse, 

His  herte  on  that  so  fer  is  set. 

That  he  his  creatour  foryet; 

And  him,  that  [begging]  wol  ay  greve. 

How  shulde  I  by  his  word  him  leve? 

Unnethe  that  he  nis  a  micher,  654I 

Forsworn,  or  elles  [god  is]  Iyer." 

Thus  seith  Salamones  sawes; 

Ne  we  finde  writen  in  no  lawes, 

And  namely  in  our  Cristen  lay —      6545 

(Who  seith  "ye,"  I  dar  sey  "nay") — 

That  Crist,  ne  his  apostlis  dere, 

Whyl  that  they  walkede  in  erthe  here, 

Were  never  seen  her  bred  begging, 

For  they  nolde  beggen  for  no-thing.  6550 

And  right  thus  were  men  wont  to  teche; 

And  in  this  wyse  wolde  it  preche 

The  maistres  of  divinitee 

Somtyme  in  Paris  the  citee. 

'And  if  men  wolde  ther-geyn  appose 
The  naked  text,  and  lete  the  glose,  6556 
It  mighte  sone  assoiled  be; 
For  men  may  wel  the  sothe  see. 
That,  parde,  they  mighte  axe  a  thing 
Pleynly  forth,  without  begging.  6560 

For  they  weren  goddis  herdis  dere, 
And  cure  of  soules  hadden  here. 
They  nolde  no-thing  begge  hir  fode; 
For  aftir  Crist  was  don  on  rode, 
With  [hir]  propre  hondis  they  wrought. 
And  with  travel,  and  elles  nought,     6566 
They  wonnen  al  hir  sustenaunce. 
And  liveden  forth  in  hir  penaunce, 
And  the  remenaunt  [yeve]  awey 
To  other  pore  folk  alwey.  6570 

They  neither  bilden  tour  ne  halle. 
But  [leye]  in  houses  smale  with  alle. 
A  mighty  man,  that  can  and  may, 
Shulde  with  his  honde  and  body  alway 
Winne  him  his  food  in  laboring,        6575 
If  he  ne  have  rent  or  sich  a  thing. 


Although  he  be  religious, 

And  God  to  serven  curious. 

Thus  mote  he  don,  or  do  trespas, 

But-if  it  be  in  certeyn  cas,  6580 

That  1  can  reherce,  if  mister  be, 

Right  wel,  whan  the  tyme  I  see. 

'  Seke  the  book  of  Seynt  Austin, 
Be  it  in  paper  or  perchemin,  6584 

There-as  he  writ  of  these  worchinges. 
Thou  shalt  seen  that  non  excusinges 
A  parfit  man  ne  shulde  seke 
By  wordis,  ne  by  dedis  eke. 
Although  he  be  religious. 
And  god  to  serven  curious,  6590 

That  he  ne  shal,  so  mote  I  go, 
With  propre  hondis  and  body  also, 
Gete  his  food  in  laboring, 
If  he  ne  have  propretee  of  thing.       6594 
Yit  shulde  he  selle  al  his  substaunce. 
And  with  his  swink  have  sustenaunce, 
If  he  be  parfit  in  bountee. 
Thus  han  tho  bookes  tolde  me : 
For  he  that  wol  gon  ydilly, 
And  useth  it  ay  besily  6600 

To  haunten  other  mennes  table, 
He  is  a  trechour,  ful  of  fable; 
Ne  he  ne  may,  by  gode  resoun. 
Excuse  him  by  his  orisoun. 
For  men  bihoveth,  in  som  gyse,         6605 
Som-tyme  [leven]  goddes  servyse 
To  gon  and  purchasen  her  nede. 
Men  mote  eten,  that  is  no  drede. 
And  slepe,  and  eek  do  other  thing; 
So  longe  may  they  leve  praying.        6610 
So  may  they  eek  hir  prayer  blinne, 
While  that  they  werke,  hir  mete  to  winne. 
Seynt  Austin  wol  therto  accorde. 
In  thilke  book  that  I  recorde. 
Justinian  eek,  that  made  lawes,  6615 

Hath  thus  forboden,  by  olde  dawes, 
"  No  man,  up  peyne  to  be  deed. 
Mighty  of  body,  to  begge  his  breed. 
If  he  may  swinke,  it  for  to  gete; 
Men  shulde  him  rather  mayme  or  bete. 
Or  doon  of  him  apert  lustice,  6621 

Than  suffren  him  in  such  malice." 
They  don  not  wel,  so  mote  I  go, 
That  taken  such  almesse  so, 
But  if  they  have  som  privelege,  6625 

That  of  the  peyne  hem  wol  allege. 
But  how  that  is,  can  I  not  see, 
But-if  the  prince  disseyved  be; 
Ne  I  ne  wene  not,  sikerly, 


6630-6732.] 


THE   ROMAUNT  of  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


65 


That  they  may  have  it  riglitfully.       6630 

But  I  wol  not  determyne 

Of  princes  power,  ne  dcfyne, 

Ne  by  my  word  comprende,  y-wis, 

If  it  so  fer  may  strecche  in  this. 

1  wol  not  entremete  a  del;  6635 

Ikit  I  trowe  that  the  hook  seith  wel, 

Who  that  talvcth  almesses,  that  be 

Dewe  to  ft)lk  that  men  may  see 

Lame,  fchle,  wery,  and  bare, 

I'ore,  or  in  such  maner  care,  6640 

(That  conne  winne  hem  nevermo, 

For  they  have  no  power  tlierto), 

He  eteth  liis  owne  dampning, 

l>ut-if  he  lye,  that  made  al  thing. 

And  if  ye  such  a  truaunt  linde,  6645 

Chastise  him  wel,  if  ye  be  kinde. 

But  they  wolde  hate  you,  percas, 

And,  if  ye  tillen  in  hir  laas. 

They  wolde  eftsones  do  you  scathe, 

If  that  they  mighte,  late  or  rathe;      6650 

For  they  be  not  ful  pacient, 

That  han  the  world  thus  foule  blent. 

And  witeth  wel,  [wher]  that  god  bad 

The  gootl  man  selle  al  that  he  had, 

And  folowe  him,  and  to  pore  it  yive. 

He  wolde  not  therfore  that  he  live    6656 

To  serven  him  in  mendience. 

For  it  was  never  his  sentence; 

But  he  bad  wirken  whan  that  nede  is, 

And  folwe  him  in  goode  dedis.  6660 

Seynt  Poule,  that  loved  al  holy  chirche 

He  bade  thapostles  for  to  wirche. 

And  winnen  hir  lytlode  in  that  wyse. 

And  hein  defended  truaundyse,         6664 

Andseide,"  Wirketh  with  your  honden;  " 

Thus  shulde  the  thing  be  undirstonden. 

He  nolde,  y-wis,  bidde  hem  begging, 

Ne  sellen  gospel,  ne  preching. 

Lest  they  berafte,  with  hir  asking. 

Folk  of  hir  catel  or  of  hir  thing.        6670 

For  in  this  world  is  many  a  man 

That  ycveth  his  good,  for  he  ne  can 

Werne  it  for  shame,  or  elles  he 

Wolde  of  the  asker  delivered  l)e; 

And,  for  he  him  encombreth  so,        6675 

He  yeveth  him  good  to  late  him  go  : 

But  it  can  him  no-thing  profyte, 

They  lese  the  yift  antl  the  meryte. 

The  goode  folk,  that  Vonle  to  preched, 

Profred  him  ofte,  whan  he  hem  teched, 

Som  of  hir  good  in  charite;  6681 

l'>ut  thcrof  right  no-thing  took  he; 


But  of  his  hondwerk  wolde  he  gete 
Clothes  to  vvryen  him,  and  his  mete.' 

Amour.   '  Tel  me  than  how  a  man  may 
liven,  66S5 

That  al  his  good  to  pore  hath  yiven, 
And  wol  but  only  bidde  his  bedis. 
And  never  with  honde  laboure  his  nedis : 
May  he  do  so?  ' 

J\  Sent.  •  Ye,  sir.' 

Amour.  '  And  how?  ' 

F.  Sem.   '  Sir,  I  wol  gladly  telle  yow :  — 
Seynt  Austin  scilh,  a  man  may  be     6691 
In  houses  that  han  propretee. 
As  templers  anil  hospitelers. 
And  as  these  chanouns  regulers, 
Or  whyte  monkes,  or  these  blake —  6695 
(I  wole  no  mo  ensamplis  make)  — 
And  take  therof  his  sustening, 
P'or  therinne  lyth  no  begging; 
But  other-weyes  not,  y-wis, 
[If]  Austin  gabbeth  not  of  this.  6700 

And  yit  ful  many  a  monk  laboureth. 
That  god  in  holy  chirche  honoureth; 
For  whan  hir  swinking  is  agoon, 
They  rede  and  singe  in  chirche  anoon. 

'  And  for  ther  hath  ben  greet  discord, 
As  many  a  wight  may  bere  record,    6706 
Upon  the  estate  of  mendience, 
I  wol  shortly,  in  your  presence, 
Telle  how  a  man  may  begge  at  nede. 
That  hath  not  wherwith  him  to  fede, 
Maugre  his  feloneslangelinges,  671 1 

For  sothfastnesse  wol  non  hidinges; 
And  yit,  percas,  I  may  abey, 
That  I  to  yow  sothly  thus  sey. 

'  Lo,  here  the  caas  especial :  6715 

If  a  man  be  so  bestial 
That  he  of  no  craft  hath  science, 
And  nought  desyreth  ignorence. 
Than  may  he  go  a-begging  yerne. 
Til  he  som  maner  craft  can  lerne,      6720 
Thurgh  which,  withoute  truauntling, 
lie  may  in  trouthe  have  his  living. 
Or  if  he  may  don  no  labour, 
For  elde,  or  syknesse,  or  langour. 
Or  for  his  tendre  age  also,  6725 

Than  may  he  yit  a-begging  go. 

'Or  if  he  have,  peraventure, 
Thurgh  usage  of  his  noriture. 
Lived  over  deliciously. 
Than  ougliten  good  folk  comunly      6730 
Han  of  his  mischeef  som  pitee. 
And  suiiren  him  also,  that  he 


66 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  TIIF,   ROSE.     (C.) 


[6733-6836. 


May  gon  aboute  and  begge  his  breed. 

That  he  be  not  for  hungur  deed. 

Or  if  he  have  of  craft  cunning,  6735 

And  strengthe  also,  and  desiring 

To  wirken,  as  he  hadde  what, 

But  he  finde  neither  this  ne  that, 

Than  may  he  begge,  til  that  he 

Have  geten  his  necessitee.  6740 

'  Or  if  his  winning  be  so  lyte, 
That  his  laliour  vvol  not  accjuyte 
Sufficiantly  al  his  living, 
Yit  may  he  go  his  breed  begging; 
Fro  dore  to  dore  he  may  go  trace,     6745 
Til  he  the  remenaunt  may  purchace. 
Or  if  a  man  wolde  undirtake 
Any  empryse  for  to  make, 
In  the  rescous  of  our  lay. 
And  it  defenden  as  he  may,  6750 

Be  it  with  armes  or  lettrure, 
Or  other  covenable  cure. 
If  it  be  so  he  pore  be. 
Than  may  he  begge,  til  that  he 
May  finde  in  trouthe  for  to  swinke,  6755 
And  gete  him  clothes,  mete,  and  drinke. 
Swinke  he  with  hondis  corporel. 
And  not  with  hondis  espirituel. 

'  In  al  thise  caas,  and  in  semblables. 
If  that  ther  ben  mo  resonables,  6760 

He  may  begge,  as  I  telle  you  here. 
And  elles  nought,  in  no  manere; 
As  William  Seynt  Amour  wolde  preche, 
And  ofte  wolde  dispute  and  teche 
Of  this  matere  alle  openly  6765 

At  Paris  ful  solempnely. 
And  al-so  god  my  soule  blesse, 
As  he  had,  in  this  stedfastnesse, 
The  accord  of  the  universitee. 
And  of  the  puple,  as  semeth  me.       6770 

'  No  good  man  oughte  it  to  refuse, 
Ne  oughte  him  therof  to  excuse. 
Be  wrooth  or  blythe  who-so  be; 
For  I  wol  speke,  and  telle  it  thee, 
Al  shulde  I  dye,  and  be  put  doun,     6775 
As  was  seynt  Poul,  in  derk  prisoun; 
Or  be  exiled  in  this  caas 
With  wrong,  as  maister  William  was. 
That  my  moder  Ypocrisye 
Banisshed  for  hir  greet  envye.  6780 

'  My  moder  flemed  him,  Seynt  Amour  : 
This  noble  dide  such  labour 
To  susteyne  ever  the  loyaltee. 
That  he  to  moche  agilte  me. 
He  made  a  book,  and  leet  it  wryte,  6785 


Wherin  his  lyf  he  dide  al  wryte, 

And  wolde  ich  reneyed  begging, 

And  lived  by  my  traveyling. 

If  I  ne  had  rent  ne  other  good. 

What  ?  wened  he  that  I  were  wood  ? 

P'or  labour  might  me  never  plese,      6791 

I  have  more  wil  to  been  at  ese ; 

And  have  wel  lever,  sooth  to  sey, 

Bifore  the  puple  patre  and  prey. 

And  wrye  me  in  my  foxerye  6795 

Under  a  cope  of  papelardye.' 

Quod  Love, '  What  devel  is  this  I  here? 
What  wordis  tellest  thou  me  here?' 
F.  Sem.   '  What,  sir?  ' 
Amour.  '  Falsnesse,  that  apert  is; 

Than  dredist  thou  not  god  ?  ' 

F.  Sem.  '  No,  certis  :  6800 

For  selde  in  greet  thing  shal  he  spede 
In  this  world,  that  god  wol  drede. 
For  folk  that  hem  to  vertu  yiven, 
And  truly  on  her  owne  liven. 
And  hem  in  goodnesse  ay  contene,   6805 
On  hem  is  litel  thrift  y-sene; 
Such  folk  drinken  gret  misese; 
That  lyf  [ne]  may  me  never  plese. 
But  see  what  gold  han  usurers. 
And  silver  eek  in  [hir]  garners,         6810 
Taylagiers,  and  these  monyours, 
Bailifs,  bedels,  provost,  countours; 
These  liven  wel  nygh  by  ravyne; 
The  smale  puple  hem  mote  enclyne, 
And  they  as  wolves  wol  hem  eten.     6815 
Upon  the  pore  folk  they  geten 
Ful  moche  of  that  they  spende  or  kepe; 
Nis  none  of  hem  that  he  nil  strepe. 
And  wryen  him-self  wel  atte  fulle; 
Withoute  scalding  they  hem  pulle.    6820 
The  stronge  the  feble  overgoth; 
But  I,  that  were  my  simple  cloth, 
Robbe  bothe  robbed  and  robbours, 
And  gyle  gyled  and  gylours. 
By  my  treget,  I  gadre  and  threste      6825 
The  greet  tresour  into  my  cheste. 
That  lyth  with  me  so  faste  bounde. 
Myn  highe  paleys  do  I  founde. 
And  my  delytes  I  fulfille 
With  wyne  at  feestes  at  my  wille,      68 30 
And  tables  fulle  of  entremees; 
I  wol  no  lyf,  but  ese  and  pees, 
And  winne  gold  to  spende  also. 
For  whan  the  grete  bagge  is  go, 
It  cometh  right  with  my  lapes.  6835 

Make  I  not  wel  tumble  myn  apes? 


6837-6939-] 


THE   ROMAUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


67 


To  H'inne  is  alwey  myn  entent ; 

My  ]iurchas  is  better  than  my  rent; 

For  thoufjh  I  shulde  beten  be, 

Over-al  I  entremete  me;  6840 

Withoute  me  may  no  wight  dure. 

I  walke  soules  for  to  cure. 

Of  al  the  worlde  cure  have  I 

In  brede  and  Icngthe;    boldely 

I  \\'n\  bothe  preche  and  eek  counceilen; 

With  hondis  wille  I  nut  traveilcn,      6846 

l*'ur  of  the  pope  I  have  the  bulle; 

I  nc  holde  not  my  wittes  duUe. 

I  wul  not  stinten,  in  my  lyve, 

These  emperouris  for  to  shryve,  6850 

Or  kyngis,  dukis,  and  lordis  grete; 

But  pore  folk  al  quyte  I  lete. 

I  love  no  such  shryving,  pardee, 

But  it  for  other  cause  be. 

I  rckke  not  of  pore  men,  6855 

Hir  astate  is  not  worth  an  hen. 

Where  fyndest  thou  a  swinker  of  labour 

Have  me  unto  his  confessour? 

But  cmperesses,  and  duchesses, 

Thise  quenes,  and  eek  [thise]  countesses, 

Thise  abbesses,  and  eek  Bigyns,         6861 

These  grete  ladyes  palasyns, 

These  loly  knightes,  and  baillyves, 

Thise  nonnes,  and  thise  burgeis  wyves, 

That  riche  been,  and  eek  plesing,      6865 

And  thise  maidens  welfaring, 

Wher-so  they  clad  or  naked  be, 

Uncounceiled  goth  ther  noon  fro  me. 

And,  for  her  soules  savetee. 

At  lord  and  laily,  and  hir  meynee,     6870 

I  axe,  whan  they  hem  to  me  shryve, 

The  propretee  of  al  hir  lyve, 

And  make  hem  trowe,  bothe  meest  and 

leest, 
Hir  paroch-prest  nis  but  a  beest 
Ayens  me  and  my  company,  6875 

That  shrewis  been  as  greet  as  I; 
For  whiche  I  wol  not  hyde  in  hold 
No  privetee  that  me  is  told. 
That  I  by  word  or  signe,  y-wis, 
[NilJ  make  hem  knowe  what  it  is,    6880 
And  they  wolen  also  tellen  me; 
They  hele  fro  me  no  privitee. 
And  for  to  make  yow  hem  perceyven. 
That  usen  folk  thus  to  disceyven, 
I  wol  you  seyn,  withouten  drede,       6885 
What  men  may  in  the  gospel  rede 
Of  Seynt  Mathew,  the  gospelere, 
That  seith,  as  I  shal  you  sey  here. 


'  Upon  the  chaire  of  Moyses  — 
Thus  is  it  glosed,  douteles  :  6890 

That  is  the  olde  testament. 
Fur  therby  is  the  chaire  ment  — 
Sitte  Scribes  and  I'harisen;  — 
That  is  to  seyn,  the  cursid  men 
Whiche  that  we  ypocritis  calle —      6895 
Duth  that  they  preche,  1  rede  you  alle, 
But  doth  not  as  they  don  a  del, 
That  been  not  wery  to  seye  wel, 
But  to  do  wel,  no  wille  have  they; 
And  they  wolde  binde  on  folk  alwey, 
That  ben  to  [be]  begyled  able,  6901 

Burdens  that  ben  importable; 
On  folkes  shuldrcs  thinges  they  couchen 
That  they  nil  with  her  fingres  touchen.' 

Amour.  '  And  why  wol  they  not  louche 
it?' 

F.  Sent.         'Why?  6905 

For  hem  ne  list  not,  sikirly; 
For  sadde  burdens  that  men  taken 
Make  folkes  shuldres  aken. 
And  if  they  do  ought  that  good  be, 
That  is  for  folk  it  shulde  see :  6910 

Her  burdens  larger  maken  they, 
And  make  hir  hemmes  wyde  alwey, 
And  loven  setes  at  the  table, 
The  firste  and  most  honourable; 
And  for  to  han  the  first  chaieris         6915 
In  synagoges,  to  hem  ful  dere  is; 
And  willen  that  folk  hem  loute  and  grete, 
Whan  that  they  passen  thurgh  the  strete, 
And  wolen  be  cleped  "  Maister  "  also. 
But  they  ne  shulde  not  willen  so;      6920 
The  gospel  is  ther-ageyns,  I  gesse  : 
That  sheweth  wel  hir  wikkidnesse. 

'  Another  custom  use  we  :  — 
Of  hem  that  wol  ayens  us  be, 
W'e  hate  hem  deedly  everichoon,      6925 
And  we  wol  werrey  hem,  as  oon. 
Him  that  oon  hatith,  hate  we  alle. 
And  coniecte  how  to  doon  him  falle. 
And  if  we  seen  him  winne  honour, 
Richesse  or  preys,  thurgh  his  valour,  69 30 
Provende,  rent,  or  dignitee, 
Ful  fast,  y-wis,  compassen  we 
By  what  ladder  he  is  clomben  so; 
And  for  to  maken  him  doun  to  go, 
W^ith  traisoun  we  wole  him  defame,  6935 
And  doon  him  lese  his  gode  name 
Thus  frum  his  ladder  we  him  take, 
And  thus  his  freendis  foes  we  make; 
But  word  ne  wite  shal  he  noon. 


68 


THE    ROMAUNT   OF  THE    ROSE.     (C.) 


[6940-7045. 


Til  alle  his  freendis  been  his  foon,     6940 

For  if  we  dide  it  openly, 

\Vc  mii^ht  have  blame  redily; 

Yor  hadde  he  wist  of  our  malyce, 

He  hadde  him  kept,  but  he  were  nycc. 

'  Another  is  this,  that,  if  so  falle    6945 
That  ther  be  oon  among  us  alle 
That  doth  a  good  turn,  out  of  drede, 
We  seyn  it  is  our  alder  dede. 
Ye  siiscrly,  though  he  it  feyned, 
Or  that  him  list,  or  that  him  deyned  6950 
A  man  thurgh  him  avaunced  be; 
Therof  alle  parceners  be  we, 
And  tellen  folk,  wher-so  we  go. 
That  man  thurgh  us  is  sprongen  so. 
And  for  to  have  of  men  preysing,      6955 
We  purchace,  thurgh  our  ilatering, 
Of  riche  men,  of  gret  poustee, 
I>ettres  to  witnesse  our  bountee; 
So  that  man  weneth,  that  may  us  see. 
That  alle  vertu  in  us  be.  6960 

And  ahvey  pore  we  us  feyne; 
But  how  so  that  we  begge  or  pleyne, 
We  ben  the  folk,  without  lesing, 
That  al  thing  have  without  having. 
Thus  be  we  dred  of  the  puple,  y-wis.  6965 
And  gladly  my  purpos  is  this  :  — 
I  dele  with  no  wight,  but  he 
Have  gold  and  tresour  gret  plentee; 
Hir  acqueyntaunce  wel  love  I; 
This  is  moche  my  desyr,  shortly.        6970 
I  entremete  me  of  brocages, 
I  make  pees  and  mariages, 
I  am  glarlly  executour, 
And  many  tymes  procuratour; 
I  am  somtyme  messager;  6975 

That  falleth  not  to  my  mister. 
And  many  tymes  I  make  enquestes; 
For  me  that  office  not  honest  is; 
To  dele  with  other  mennes  thing, 
Tliat  is  to  me  a  gret  lyking.  6980 

And  if  that  ye  have  ought  to  do 
In  place  that  I  repeire  to, 
I  shal  it  speden  thurgh  my  wit, 
As  sone  as  ye  have  told  me  it. 
So  that  ye  serve  me  to  pay,  6985 

My  servyse  shal  be  your  alway. 
But  who-so  wol  chastyse  me, 
Anoon  my  love  lost  hath  he; 
For  I  love  no  man  in  no  gyse. 
That  wol  me  repreve  or  chastyse;      6990 
But  I  wolde  al  folk  undirtake. 
And  of  no  wight  no  teching  take; 


For  I,  that  other  folk  chastye, 
Wol  not  be  taught  fro  my  folye. 

'  1  love  noon  hermitage  more;        6995 
All  desertes,  and  holtes  hore, 
And  grete  wodes  everichoon, 
I  lete  hem  to  the  Baptist  lohan. 
I  quethe  him  quyte,  and  him  relesse 
Of  Egipt  al  the  wildirnesse;  7000 

To  fer  were  alle  my  mansiouns 
Fro  alle  citees  and  goode  tounes. 
My  palcis  and  myn  hous  make  I 
There  men  may  renne  in  openly. 
And  sey  that  I  the  world  forsake.       7005 
But  al  amidde  I  bilde  and  make 
My  hous,  and  swimme  and  pley  therinne 
Bet  than  a  fish  doth  with  his  finne. 

'  Of  Antecristes  men  am  I, 
Of  whiche  that  Crist  seith  openly,      7010 
They  have  abit  of  holinesse. 
And  liven  in  such  wikkednesse. 
Outward,  lambren  semen  we, 
FuUe  of  goodnesse  and  of  pitee, 
And  inward  we,  withouten  fable,       701 5 
Ben  gredy  wolves  ravisable. 
We  enviroune  bothe  londe  and  see; 
With  al  the  world  werreyen  we; 
We  wol  ordeyne  of  alle  thing. 
Of  folkes  good,  and  her  living.  7020 

'  If  ther  be  castel  or  citee 
Wherin  that  any  bougerons  be, 
Although  that  they  of  Milayne  were, 
For  ther-of  ben  they  blamed  there: 
Or  if  a  wight,  out  of  mesure,  7025 

Wolde  lene  his  gold,  and  take  usure, 
For  that  he  is  so  coveitous : 
Or  if  he  be  to  leccherous. 
Or  [thefe,  or]  haunte  simtjnye; 
Or  provost,  ful  of  trecherye,  7030 

Or  prelat,  living  lolily. 
Or  prest  that  halt  his  quene  him  by; 
Or  olde  hores  hostilers. 
Or  other  bawdes  or  bordillers, 
Or  elles  blamed  of  any  vyce,  7035 

Of  whiche  men  shulden  doon  lustyce : 
By  alle  the  seyntes  that  we  pray. 
But  they  defende  hem  with  lamprey, 
With  luce,  with  elis,  with  samons. 
With  tendre  gees,  and  with  capons,  7040 
Witli  tartes,  or  with  cheses  fat. 
With  deynte  flawnes,  brode  and  flat, 
With  caleweys,  or  with  pullaille, 
Witli  coninges,  or  with  fyn  vitaille. 
That  we,  undir  our  clothes  wyde,       7045 


7046-7 148- J 


THE   ROMAUNl"   OV  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


69 


Maken  thurgh  our  golet  glyde: 
Or  but  he  wol  do  come  in  haste 
Rou-veiiisoun,  [yj-bake  in  paste: 
Whether  so  that  he  luure  or  groine, 
He  shall  have  of  a  corde  a  loigne.     7050 
With  whiche    men  shal    him  binde  and 

lede, 
To  brenne  him  for  his  sinful  dede, 
That  men  shuUe  here  him  crye  and  rore 
A  myle-wey  aboute  and  more. 
Or  eiles  he  shal  in  prisoun  ^ye,  7055 

But-if  he  wol  [our]  frendship  bye, 
Or  smerten  that  that  he  hath  do, 
More  than  his  ^ilt  anumntcth  to. 
But,  and  he  coulhe  thurgli  his  sleight 
Do  maken  up  a  tour  of  height,  7060 

Nought  roughte  I  whether  of  stone   or 

tree, 
Or  erthe,  or  turves  though  it  be. 
Though  it  were  of  no  vounde  stone, 
Wrought  with  siiuyre  and  scantilone. 
So  that  the  tour  were  stuffed  wel       7065 
With  alle  richcsse  temporel; 
And  thanne,  that  he  wolde  updresse 
Engyns,  bothe  more  and  lesse. 
To  caste  at  us,  by  every  syde  — 
To  here  his  goode  name  wyde  —      7070 
Such  sleightes  [as]  I  shal  yow  nevene, 
Barelles  of  wyne,  by  sixe  or  sevene, 
Or  gold  in  sakkes  gret  plente, 
He  shulde  sone  delivered  be. 
And  if  he  have  noon  sich  pitaunces,  7075 
Late  him  study  in  equipolences. 
And  lete  lyes  and  fallaces. 
If  that  he  wolde  deserve  our  graces; 
Or  we  shal  here  him  such  witnesse 
Of  sinne,  and  of  his  wrecchidnesse,  7080 
And  doon  his  loos  so  wyde  renne. 
That  al  quik  we  shulde  him  brenne, 
Or  elles  yeve  him  suche  penaunce, 
That  is  wel  wors  than  the  pitaunce. 

'  For  thou  shalt  never,  for  no-thing, 
Con  knowen  aright  by  her  clothing  7086 
The  traitours  fulle  of  trecherye, 
But  thou  her  werkis  can  aspye. 
And  ne  hadde  the  good  keping  be 
Whylom  of  the  universitee,  7090 

That  kcpeth  the  key  of  Cristendome, 
[They]   had    been    turmented,    alle   and 

some. 
Suche  been  the  stinking  [fals]  prophetis; 
Nis  non  of  hem,  that  good  prophcte  is; 
For  they,  thiirgh  wikked  enteucioun. 


The  yeer  of  the  incarnacioun  7096 

A  thousand  and  two  hundred  yeer, 

Fyve  and  fifty,  ferther  ne  ner, 

Broughten  a  book,  with  sory  grace, 

To  ycven  ensample  in  comune  place, 

That  seide  thus,  though  it  were  fable:  — 

"This  is  the  (jcjspcl  Perdurable, 

That  fro  the  Holy  Goost  is  sent." 

Wel  were  it  worth  to  ben  [y] -brent. 

Entitled  was  in  such  manere  7I05 

This  book,  of  which  I  telle  here. 

Ther  nas  no  wight  in  al  Parys, 

Ijiforn  Our  Lady,  at  parvys. 

That  [he]  ne  mighte  liye  the  book. 

To  copy,  if  him  talent  took.  7110 

Ther  might  he  see,  by  greet  tresoun, 

Ful  many  fals  comparisoun  :  — 

"  As  moche  as,  thurgh  his  grete  might, 

Be  it  of  hete,  or  of  light. 

The  sunne  sourmounteth  the  mone,  71 1$ 

That  troubler  is,  and  chaungeth  sone, 

And  the  note-kernel  the  shelle  — 

(I  scorne  nat  that  I  yow  telle) — 

Right  so,  withouten  any  gyle, 

Sourmounteth  this  noble  Evangyle    7120 

The  word  of  any  evangelist." 

And  to  her  title  they  token  Christ; 

And  many  such  comparisoun, 

Of  which  I  make  no  mencioun. 

Might  men  in  that  boke  tinde,  7125 

Who-so  coude  of  hem  have  minde. 

'  The  universitee,  that  tho  was  aslepe, 
Gan  for  to  braide,  and  taken  kepe; 
And  at  the  noys  the  heed  up-caste, 
Ne  never  sithen  slepte  it  faste,  7130 

But  up  it  sterte,  and  amies  took 
Ayens  this  fals  horrible  book, 
Al  redy  bateil  for  to  make, 
And  to  the  luge  the  book  to  take. 
But  they  that  broughten  the  book  there 
Hente  it  anoon  awey,  for  fere;  7136 

They  nolde  shewe  it  more  a  del, 
But  thenne  it  kepte,  and  kepen  wil. 
Til  such  a  tyme  that  they  may  see 
That  they  so  stronge  woxen  be,  7140 

That  no  wight  may  hem  wel  withstonde; 
For  by  that  book  they  durst  not  stonde. 
Away  they  gonne  it  for  to  bere. 
For  they  ne  durste  not  answere 
By  exposicioun  ne  glose  7M5 

To  that  that  clerkis  wole  appose 
Ayens  the  cursednesse,  y-wis, 
That  in  that  boke  vvriten  is. 


TO 


THE   ROM  AUNT  OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


[7149-7250. 


Now  wot  I  not,  ne  I  can  not  see 
What  maner  ende  that  there  shal  be 
Of  al  this  [hoke]  that  they  hyde;      7151 
But  yit  algate  they  shal  abyde 
Til  that  they  may  it  bet  defende; 
This  trowe  I  best,  vvul  be  hir  ende. 

'Thus  Antecrist  abyden  we,  T^SS 

For  we  ben  alle  of  his  meynee; 
And  what  man  that  wol  not  be  so, 
Right  sone  he  shal  his  lyf  forgo. 
We  wol  a  puple  on  him  areyse. 
And  thurgh  our  gyle  doon  him  seise, 
And  him  on  sharpe  speris  ryve,  7161 

Or  other-vveyes  Ijringe  him  fro  lyve, 
But-if  that  he  wol  folowe,  y-wis. 
That  in  our  boke  writen  is. 
Thus  moche  wol  our  book  signifye,  7165 
That  whyl  [that]  Peter  hath  maistrye, 
May  never  lohan  shewe  wel  his  might. 

'  Now  have  I  you  declared  right 
The  mening  of  the  bark  and  rinde 
That  makith  the  entenciouns  blinde. 
But  now  at  erst  I  wol  biginne  7^7^ 

To  expowne  you  the  pith  withinne  :  — 
[And  first,  by  Peter,  as  I  wene. 
The  Pope  himself  we  wolden  mene], 
And  [eek]  the  seculers  comprehende. 
That  Cristes  lawe  wol  defende,  7176 

And  shulde  it  kepen  and  mayntenen 
Ayeines  hem  that  al  sustenen, 
And  falsly  to  the  puple  techen. 
[And]    lohan    bitokeneth    hem    [that] 

prechen,  7 1 80 

That  ther  nis  lawe  covenable 
But  thilke  Gospel  Perdurable, 
That  fro  the  Holy  Cost  was  sent 
To  turne  folk  that  been  miswent. 
The  strengthe  of  lohan  they  undirstonde 
The    grace    in    which,    they   seye,    they 

stonde,  7186 

That  doth  the  sinful  folk  converte. 
And  hem  to  lesus  Crist  reverte. 
'  Ful  many  another  horriblete 
May  men  in  that  boke  see,  7190 

That  ben  comaunded,  douteles, 
Ayens  the  lawe  of  Rome  expres; 
And  alle  with  Antecrist  they  holden, 
As  men  may  in  the  book  biholden. 
And  than  comaunden  they  to  sleen   7195 
Alle  tho  that  with  Peter  been; 
But  they  shal  nevere  have  that  might. 
And,  god  to  forn,  for  stryf  to  fight, 
That  they  ne  shal  y-nough  [men]  finde 


That  Peters  lawe  shal  have  in  minde. 

And  ever  holde,  and  so  mayntene,    7201 

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,        7205 

That  they  by  lohan  have  undirstonde; 

But,  maugre  hem,  it  shal  adoun. 

And  been  brought  to  confusioun. 

But  I  wol  stinte  of  this  matere. 

For  it  is  woiy^ler  long  to  here;  7210 

But  hadde  that  ilke  book  endured. 

Of  better  estate  I  were  ensured; 

And  freendis  have  I  yit,  pardee, 

That  han  me  set  in  greet  degree. 

'Of  all  this  world  is  emperour        7215 
Gyle  my  fader,  the  trechour, 
And  emperesse  my  moder  is, 
Maugre  the  Holy  Gost,  y-wis. 
Our  mighty  linage  and  our  route 
Regneth  in  every  regne  aboute;         7220 
And  wel  is  worth  we  [maistres]  be. 
For  al  this  world  governe  we. 
And  can  the  folk  so  wel  disceyve. 
That  noon  our  gyle  can  perceyve; 
And    though   they  doon,    they   dar   not 

saye;  7225 

The  sothe  dar  no  wight  biwreye. 
But  he  in  Cristis  wrath  him  ledeth. 
That    more    than    Crist    my    bretheren 

dredeth. 
He  nis  no  ful  good  champioun, 
That  dredith  such  similacioun;  7230 

Nor  that  for  peyne  wole  refusen 
Us  to  correcten  and  accusen. 
He  wol  not  entremete  by  right, 
Ne  have  god  in  his  eye-sight. 
And  therfore  god  shal  him  punyce;  7235 
But  me  ne  rekketh  of  no  vyce, 
Sithen  men  us  loven  comunably, 
And  holden  us  for  so  worthy, 
That  we  may  folk  repreve  echoon, 
And  we  nil  have  repref  of  noon.        7^40 
Whom  shulden  folk  worshipen  so 
But  us,  that  stinten  never  mo 
To  patren  whyl  that  folk  us  see, 
Though  it  not  so  bihinde  hem  be? 

'  And  where  is  more  wood  folye,    7245 
Than  to  enhaunce  chivalrye. 
And  love  noble  men  and  gay. 
That  loly  clothis  weren  alvvay? 
If  they  be  sich  folk  as  they  semen. 
So  clene,  as  men  her  clothis  demen,  7250 


725'-7i53-J 


THE   ROM  AUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


71 


And  that  her  wordis  folowe  her  dede, 
It  is  gret  pite,  out  of  drede, 
I'or  they  wul  be  noon  ypocritis ! 
( )f  hem,  nie  thinketh  [it]  gret  spite  is; 
I  can  not  love  hem  on  no  syde.  7255 

lUit  ISeggers  with  these  hixles  wyde, 
With  sleighe  and  pale  faces  lene, 
And  greye  clotliis  not  ful  clene, 
But  fretted  ful  of  tatarwagges, 
And  highe  shoes,  knopped  with  dagges, 
That  frouncen  lyke  a  quaile-pype,     7261 
Or  botes  riveling  as  a  gype; 
To  such  folk  as  I  you  devyse 
Shuld  princes  and  these  lordes  wyse 
Take  alle  her  londes  and  her  thinges,  7265 
Bothe  werre  and  pees,  in  governinges; 
To  such  folk  shulde  a  prince  him  yive, 
That  wolde  his  lyf  in  honour  live. 
And  if  they  be  not  as  they  seme, 
That  serven  thus  the  world  to  queme. 
There  wolde  1  dwelle,  to  disceyve      7271 
The  folk,  for  they  shal  not  perceyve. 

'  But  I  ne  speke  in  no  such  wyse, 
That  men  shulde  humble  abit  dispyse, 
So  that  no  pryde  ther-under  be.  7275 

No  man  shulde  hate,  as  thinketh  me, 
The  pore  man  in  sich  clothing. 
But  god  ne  preiseth  him  no-thing. 
That  seith  he  hath  the  world  forsake. 
And  hath  to  worldly  glorie  him  take,  7280 
And  wol  of  siche  delyces  use; 
Who  may  that  Begger  wel  excuse? 
That  papelard,  that  him  yeldeth  so, 
And  wol  to  worldly  ese  go. 
And  seith  that  he  the  world  hath  left, 
And  gredily  it  grypeth  eft,  72S6 

He  is  the  hound,  shame  is  to  seyn, 
That  to  his  casting  goth  ageyn. 

'  But  unto  you  dar  I  not  lye  : 
But  mighte  I  felen  or  aspye,  7290 

That  ye  perceyved  it  no-thing, 
Ye  shulden  have  a  stark  lesing 
Right  in  your  bond  thus,  to  biginne, 
I  nolde  it  lette  for  no  sinne.' 

The  god  lough  at  the  wonder  tho,  7295 
And  every  wight  gan  laughe  also. 
And  seide  :  —  '  Lo  here  a  man  aright 
For  to  be  trusty  to  every  wight ! ' 

'  Fals  Semblant,'   quod    Love,   '  sey  to 
me, 
Sith  I  thus  have  avaunced  thee,         7300 
That  in  my  court  is  thy  dwelling. 
And  of  ribaudes  shalt  be  my  king, 


Wolt  thou  wel  holden  my  forwardis?  ' 
F.  Sent.    'Ye,  sir,  from    hennes    fore- 
ward  is;  7304 
Hadde  never  your  fader  herebiforn 
Servaunt  so  trewe,  sith  he  was  born.' 
Amour.    'That  is  ayeines  al  nature.' 
F.  Sc'i/i.  '  Sir,  put  you  in  that  aventure; 
For  though  ye  borowes  take  of  me, 
The  sikerer  shal  ye  never  be               731° 
For  ostages,  ne  sikirnesse. 
Or  chartres,  for  to  here  witnesse. 
I  take  your-self  to  record  here. 
That  men  ne  may,  in  no  manere, 
Teren  the  wolf  out  of  his  hyde,          7315 
Til  he  be  [flayn],  bak  and  syde. 
Though  men  him  bete  and  al  defyle; 
What?  wene  ye  that  I  wole  bigyle? 
For  I  am  clothed  mekely, 
Ther-under  is  al  my  trechery;             7320 
Myn  herte  chaungeth  never  the  mo 
For  noon  abit,  in  which  I  go. 
Though  I  have  chere  of  simplenesse, 
I  am  not  wery  of  shrewednesse. 
My  lemman,  Streyned-Abstinence,    7325 
Hath  mister  of  my  purveaunce; 
She  hadde  ful  longe  ago  be  deed, 
Nere  my  councel  and  my  reed; 
Lete  hir  allone,  and  you  and  me.'      7329 

And  Love  answerde,  '  I  truste  thee 
Withoute  borowe,  for  I  wol  noon.' 
And  Fals-Semblant,  the  theef,  anoon, 
Right  in  that  ilke  same  place. 
That  hadde  of  tresoun  al  his  face       7334 
Right  blak  withinne,  and  whyt  withoute, 
Thanketh  him,  gan  on  his  knees  loute. 
Than   was   ther   nought,    but   '  Every 
man 
Now  to  assaut,  that  sailen  can,' 
Quod  Love,  '  and  that  ful  hardily.' 
Than  armed  they  hem  communly      7340 
Of  sich  armour  as  to  hem  fel. 
W^han  they  were  armed,  fers  and  fel. 
They  wente  hem  forth,  alle  in  a  route, 
And  set  the  castel  al  aboute; 
They  wil  nought  away,  for  no  drede. 
Til  it  so  be  that  they  ben  dede,  734^ 

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  goon, 
The  foure  gates  for  to  assaile,  7351 

Of  whiche  the  kepers  wol  not  faile; 
For  they  ben  neither  syke  ne  dede, 


72 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


[7354-7459- 


But  hardy  folk,  and  stronge  in  dede. 

Now  wole  I  seyn  the  countenaunce 
Of  Fals-Semblant,  and  Abstinaunce, 
That  ben  to  Wikkid-Tonge  went. 
IJut  first  they  helde  her  parlement, 
Whether  it  to  done  were 
'lo  maken  hem  be  knowen  there,       7360 
Or  elles  vvalken  forth  disgysed. 
But  at  the  laste  they  devysed, 
That  they  wold  goon  in  tapinage, 
As  it  were  in  a  pilgrimage, 
Lyk  good  and  holy  folk  unfeyned.     7365 
And  Dame  Abstinence-Streyned 
Took  on  a  robe  of  camelyne, 
And  gan  hir  graithe  as  a  liegyne. 
A  large  coverchief  of  threde 
She  wrapped  al  aboute  hir  hede,        737° 
But  she  forgat  not  hir  sautere; 
A  peire  of  bedis  eek  she  here 
Upon  a  lace,  al  of  whyt  threde. 
On  which  that  she  hir  bedes  bede;    7374 
But  she  ne  boughte  hem  never  a  del, 
For  they  were  geven  her,  I  wot  wel, 
God  wot,  of  a  ful  holy  frere. 
That  seide  he  was  hir  fader  dere, 
To  whom  she  hadde  ofter  went 
Than  any  frere  of  his  covent.  73^0 

And  he  visyted  hir  also. 
And  many  a  sermoun  seide  hir  to; 
He  nolde  lette,  for  man  on  lyve. 
That  he  ne  wolde  hir  ofte  shryve. 
And  with  so  gret  devocion  73^5 

They  maden  her  confession. 
That  they  had  ofte,  for  the  nones, 
Two  hedes  in  one  hood  at  ones. 

Of  fair  shape  I  devyse  her  thee. 
But  pale  of  face  somtyme  was  she;    7390 
That  false  traitouresse  untrewe 
Was  lyk  that  salowe  hors  of  hewe. 
That  in  the  Apocalips  is  shewed. 
That  signifyeth  tho  folk  beshrewed. 
That  been  al  ful  of  trecherye,  7395 

And  pale,  thurgh  hypocrisye; 
For  on  that  hors  no  colour  is. 
But  only  deed  and  pale,  y-wis. 
Of  suche  a  colour  enlangoured 
Was  Abstinence,  y-wis,  coloured;      7400 
Of  her  estat  she  her  repented. 
As  her  visage  represented. 

She  had  a  burdoun  al  of  Thefte, 
That  Gyle  had  yeve  her  of  his  yefte; 
And  a  scrippe  of  Fainte  Distresse,     7405 
That  ful  was  of  elengenesse, 


And  forth  she  walked  sobrely : 

And  False-Semblant  saynt,  ie  vous  die, 

[Had],  as  it  were  for  such  mistere, 

Don  on  the  cope  of  a  frere,  74 lO 

With  chere  simple,  and  ful  pitous; 

His  looking  was  not  disdeinous, 

Ne  proud,  but  meke  and  ful  pesible. 

About  his  nekke  he  bar  a  bible. 

And  squierly  forth  gan  he  gon;  7415 

And,  for  to  reste  his  limmes  upon, 

He  had  of  Treson  a  potente; 

As  he  were  feble,  his  way  he  wente. 

But  in  his  sieve  he  gan  to  thringe 

A  rasour  sharp,  and  wel  bytinge,        7420 

That  was  forged  in  a  forge. 

Which  that  men  clepen  Coupegorge. 

So  longe  forth  hir  way  they  nomen, 
Til  they  to  Wicked-Tonge  comen. 
That  at  his  gate  Was  sitting,  74^5 

And  saw  folk  in  the  way  passing. 
The  pilgrimes  saw  he  faste  by, 
That  beren  hem  fel  mekely. 
And  humblely  they  with  him  mette. 
Dame  Abstinence  first  him  grette,     7430 
And  sith  him  False-Seml)lant  salued. 
And  he  hem;    but  he  not  remued, 
For  he  ne  dredde  hem  not  a-del. 
P'or  when  he  saw  hir  faces  wel, 
Alvvay  in  herte  him  thoughte  so,       7435 
He  shulde  knowe  hem  bothe  two; 
For  wel  he  knew  Dame  Abstinaunce, 
But  he  ne  knew  not  Constreynaunce. 
He  knew  nat  that  she  was  constrayned, 
Ne  of  her  theves  lyfe  feyned,  744° 

But  wende  she  com  of  wil  al  free; 
But  she  com  in  another  degree; 
And  if  of  good  wil  she  began, 
That  wil  was  failed  her  [as]  than. 

And  Fals-Semblant  had  he  seyn  als. 
But  he  knew  nat  that  he  was  fals.     7446 
Yet  fals  was  he,  but  his  falsnesse 
Ne  coude  he  not  espye,  nor  gesse; 
For  seml)lant  was  so  slye  wrought. 
That  falsnesse  he  ne  espyed  nought.  7450 
But  haddest  thou  knowen  him  beforn, 
Thou  woldest  on  a  boke  have  sworn, 
Whan  thou  him  saugh  in  thilke  aray 
That  he,  that  whylom  was  so  gay. 
And  of  the  daunce  loly  Robin,  7455 

Was  tho  become  a  lacobin. 
But  sothely,  what  so  men  him  calle, 
Freres  Prechours  been  good  men  alle; 
Hir  order  wickedly  they  beren, 


7460-7562.] 


Till-:   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


73 


Suche  minstrelles  if  [that]  they  weren. 
So  been  Augustins  and  Cordileres,    7461 
And  Carmes,  and  eek  Sakked  Freres, 
And  alle  freres,  shodde  and  bare, 
(Though   some   of  hem    ben   grete   and 

square) 
Ful  holy  men,  as  I  hem  deme;  74^5 

Evcrich  of  hem  wolde  good  man  seme. 
But  shall  thou  never  of  apparence 
Seen  conclude  good  consequence 
In  none  argument,  y-vvis, 
If  existence  al  failed  is.  747° 

For  men  may  finde  alway  sophyme 
The  consequence  to  envenyme, 
Who-so  that  hath  the  suhtdtee 
The  double  sentence  for  to  see.  7474 

Whan  the  pilgrymes  commen  were 
To  Wicked-Tonge,  that  dwelled  there, 
Ilir  harneis  nigh  hem  was  algate; 
By  Wicked-Tonge  adoun  they  sate, 
That  bad  hem  ner  him  for  to  come, 
And  of  tydinges  telle  hin.  some,         7480 
And  sayde   hem  :  —  '  What   cas  maketh 

yow 
To  come  into  this  place  now?' 
'  Sir,'  seyde  Strained-Abstinaunce, 
'  We,  for  to  drye  our  penaunce. 
With  hertes  pitous  and  devoute,         7485 
Are  commen,  as  pilgrimes  gon  aboute; 
W'el  nigh  on  fote  alway  we  go; 
Ful  dusty  been  our  heles  two; 
And  thus  bothe  we  ben  sent 
Thurghout  this  world  that  is  miswent, 
To  yeve  ensample,  and  preche  also.  7491 
To  lisshen  sinful  men  we  go, 
For  other  fisshing  ne  fisshe  we. 
And,  sir,  for  that  charitee. 
As  we  be  wont,  herberwe  we  crave,  7495 
Your  lyf  to  amende;    Crist  it  save  ! 
And,  so  it  shulde  you  nat  displese. 
We  wolden,  if  it  were  your  ese, 
A  short  sermoun  unto  you  seyn.'       7499 
And  W'ikked-Tonge  answerde  ageyn, 
'The  hous,'  quod  he,  'such  as  ye  see, 
Shal  nat  be  warned  you  for  me, 
Sey  what  you  list,  and  I  wol  here.' 
'(Jraunt  mercy,  swete  sire  dcre  ! ' 
Quod  alderlirst  Dame  Abstinence,     7505 
And  thus  began  she  hir  sentence: 

Const.  Abstinence.    '  Sir,  the  first  vertue, 

certeyn, 
The  gretest,  and  most  sovereyn 
That  may  be  founde  in  any  man, 


For  having,  or  for  wit  he  can,  75 'o 

That  is,  his  tonge  to  refreyne  ; 

Therto  ought  every  wight  him  peyne. 

For  it  is  better  stille  be 

Than  for  to  speken  harm,  pardee  ! 

And  he  that  herkeneth  it  gladly,        7515 

He  is  no  good  man,  sikerly. 

And,  sir,  aboven  al  other  sinne, 

In  that  art  thou  most  gilty  inne. 

Thou  spake  a  lape  not  long  ago, 

(And,  sir,  that  was  right  yvel  do)      7520 

Of  a  yong  man  that  here  repaired, 

And  never  yet  this  place  apaired. 

Thou  seydest  he  awaited  nothing 

But  to  disceyve  Fair- Welcoming. 

Ye  seyde  nothing  sooth  of  that;         7525 

But,  sir,  ye  lye;    I  tell  you  plat; 

He  ne  cometh  no  more,  ne  goth,  pardee  ! 

I  trow  ye  shal  him  never  see. 

Fair-Wekx)ming  in  prison  is. 

That  ofte  hath  pleyed  with  you,  er  this. 

The  fairest  games  that  he  coude,        7531 

Withoute  tilthe,  stille  or  loude; 

Now  dar  [he]  nat  [him]self  solace. 

Ye  han  also  the  man  do  chace, 

That  he  dar  neither  come  ne  go.       7535 

What  meveth  you  to  hate  him  so 

But  properly  your  wikked  thought, 

That  many  a  fals  lesing  hath  thought? 

That  meveth  your  foole  eloquence, 

That  iangleth  ever  in  audience,  7540 

And  on  the  folk  areyseth  blame. 

And  doth  hem  dishonour  and  shame, 

For  thing  that  may  have  no  preving, 

But  lyklinesse,  and  contriving. 

For  I  dar  seyn,  that  Reson  demeth,  7545 

It  is  not  al  sooth  thing  that  semeth. 

And  it  is  sinne  to  controve 

Thing  that  is  [for]  to  reprove; 

This  wot  ye  wel;    and,  sir,  therefore 

Ye  arn  to  blame  [wel]  the  more.       7550 

And,  nathelesse,  he  rekketh  lyte; 

He  yeveth  nat  now  thereof  a  myte; 

For  if  he  thoughte  harm,  parfay, 

He  wolde  come  and  gon  al  day; 

He  coude  him-selfe  nat  abstene.        7555 

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  here  watchest  at  the  gate,  7560 

With  spere  in  thyne  arest  alway; 

There  muse,  musard,  al  the  day. 


74 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE   ROSE.     (C.) 


[7563-7667. 


Thou  wakest  night  and  day  for  thought; 

Y-vvis,  thy  traveyl  is  for  nought. 

And  lelousye,  withouten  faile,  7565 

Shal  never  quyte  thee  thy  travaile. 

And  scathe  is,  that  Fair-Welcoming, 

Withouten  any  trespassing, 

.Shal  wrongfully  in  prison  be, 

Ther  wepeth  and  languissheth  he.     7570 

And  though  thou  never  yet,  y-wis, 

Agiltest  man  no  more  but  this, 

(Take  not  a-greef)  it  were  worthy 

To  putte  thee  out  of  this  baily, 

And  afterward  in  prison  lye,  7575 

And  fettre  thee  til  that  thou  dye; 

For  thou  shalt  for  this  sinne  dwelle 

Right  in  the  devils  ers  of  helle, 

But-if  that  thou  repente  thee.'  7579 

'  Ma  fay,  thou  lyest  falsly !  '  quod  he. 
'  What  ?     welcome      with     mischaunce 

now ! 
Have  I  therfore  herbered  you 
To  seye  me  shame,  and  eek  reprove? 
With  sory  happe,  to  your  bihove, 
Am  I  to-day  your  herbergere  !  7585 

Go,  herber  you  elleswhere  than  here, 
That  han  a  Iyer  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?     7591 
To  alle  the  develles  I  me  take, 
Or  elles,  god,  thou  me  confounde ! 
But  er  men  diden  this  castel  founde, 
It  passeth  not  ten  dayes  or  twelve,    7595 
But  it  was  told  right  to  my-selve, 
And  as  they  seide,  right  so  tolde  I, 
He  kiste  the  Rose  privily  ! 
Thus  seide  I  now,  and  have  seidyore; 
I  not  wher  he  dide  any  more.  7600 

W^hy  shulde  men  sey  me  such  a  thing. 
If  it  hadde  been  gabbing? 
Right  so  seide  I,  and  wol  seye  yit ; 
I  trovve,  I  lyed  not  of  it; 
And  with  my  hemes  I  wol  blowe        7605 
To  alle  neighboris  a-rowe, 
How  he  hath  bothe  comen  and  gon.' 

Tho  spak  Fals-Semblant  right  anon, 
'  Al  is  not  gospel,  out  of  doute. 
That  men  seyn  in  the  toune  aboute; 
Ley  no  deef  ere  to  my  speking;  761 1 

I  swere  yovv,  sir,  it  is  gabljing  ! 
I  trowe  ye  wot  wel  certeynly. 
That  no  man  loveth  him  tenderly 


That  seith  him  harm,  if  he  wot  it,      7615 

Al  be  he  never  so  pore  of  wit. 

And  sooth  is  also  sikerly, 

(This  knowe  ye,  sir,  as  wel  as  I), 

That  lovers  gladly  wol  visyten 

The  places  ther  hir  loves  habyten.     7620 

This  man  you  loveth  and  eek  honoureth; 

This  man  to  serve  you  laboureth ; 

And  clepeth  you  his  freend  so  dere. 

And  this  man  maketh  you  good  chere. 

And  every-wher  that  [he]  you  meteth. 

He  you  saleweth,  and  he  you  greteth. 

He  preseth  not  so  ofte,  that  ye 

Ought  of  his  comeencombred  be; 

Ther  presen  other  folk  on  yow 

Ful  ofter  than  [that]  he  doth  now.    7630 

And  if  his  herte  him  streyned  so 

Unto  the  Rose  for  to  go, 

Ye  shulde  him  seen  so  ofte  nede. 

That  ye  shulde  take  him  with  the  dede. 

He  coude  his  coming  not  forbere,     7635 

Though  ye  him  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,  certes,  he  ne  thenketh  it  nought; 

No  more  ne  doth  Fair-Welcoming,    7641 

That  sore  abyeth  al  this  thing. 

And  if  they  were  of  oon  assent, 

Ful  sone  were  the  Rose  hent; 

The  maugre  youres  wolde  be.  7645 

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  your  wit,         7650 

He  nolde  no-thing  love  you  so, 

Ne  callen  you  his  freend  also, 

But  night  and  day  he  [wolde]  wake, 

The  castel  to  destroye  and  take, 

Ifit  were  sooth  as  ye  devyse;  7655 

Or  som  man  in  som  maner  wyse 

Might  it  warne  him  everydel 

Or  by  him-self  percej'ven  wel; 

For  sith  he  might  not  come  and  gon 

As  he  was  whylom  wont  to  don,         7660 

He  might  it  sone  wite  and  see; 

But  now  al  other-wyse  [doth]  he. 

Than  have  [ye],  sir,  al-outerly 

Deserved  helle,  and  lolyly 

The  deth  of  helle,  douteles,  7665 

That  thrallen  folk  so  gilteles.' 

Fals-Semblant  proveth  so  this  thing 


7668-7698.] 


THE   ROMAUNT   OF  THE  ROSE.     (C.) 


75 


That  he  can  noon  answering, 
And  seeth  alwey  such  apparaunce, 
That  nygh  he  fel  in  repontaunce,       7670 
Anil  seidc  him:  —  'Sir,  it  may  wel  be. 
Sciiiblant,  a  good  man  semen  ye; 
And,  Abstinence,  ful  wyse  ye  seme; 
Of  o  talent  you  bothe  I  deme.  7674 

What  counceil  wole  ye  to  me  yeven?  ' 
F.  St'/it.   '  Right  here  anoon  thou  shalt 
be  shriven, 
And  sey  thy  sinne  withoute  more; 
Of  this  shalt  thou  repente  sore; 
For  I  am  preest,  and  have  poustee 
To  shryve  folk  of  most  dignitee  7680 

That  been,  as  wyde  as  world  may  dure. 
Of  al  this  world  I  have  the  cure, 


And  that  had  never  yit  persoun, 

No  vicarie  of  no  maner  toun. 

And,  god  wot,  I  have  of  thee  76S5 

A  thousand  tymes  more  pitee 

Than  hath  thy  jircest  parochial. 

Though  he  thy  freend  be  special. 

I  have  avauntage,  in  o  wyse. 

That  your  prelates  ben  not  so  wyse    7690 

Ne  half  so  lettred  as  am  I. 

I  am  licenced  boldely 

In  divinitee  to  rede, 

And  to  confessen,  out  of  drede. 

If  ye  wol  you  now  confesse,  7695 

And  leve  your  sinnes  more  and  lesse, 

Without  abood,  knele  doun  anon, 

And  you  shal  have  absolucion.'  7698 


Explicit. 


THE    MINOR    POEMS. 


I.     AN    A.    B.   C. 


Incipit  cai-men  secundum  ordincm  liter- 
arniii  Alphabcti. 

Almighty  and  al  merciahle  quene, 

To  whom  that  al  this  world  fleeth  for 

socour, 
To  have  relees  of  sinne,  sorwe  and  tene, 
Glorious  virgine,  of  alle  floures  flour, 
To  thee  I  flee,  confounded  in  errour  !     5 
Help  and  releve,  thou  mighty  debonaire, 
Have  mercy  on  my  perilous  langour  ! 
Venquisshed  me  hath  my  cruel  adversaire. 

Bountee  so  fix  hath  in  thyn  herte  his  tente, 
That  wel  1  wot  thou  wolt  my  socour  be,  10 
Thou  canst  not  warne  him  that,  with  good 

entente, 
Axeth  thyn  help.     Thyn  herte  is  ay  so 

free, 
Thou  art  largesse  of  pleyn  felicitee, 
Haven  of  refut,  of  quiete  and  of  reste. 
Lo,  how  that  theves  seven  chasen  me  !  15 
Help,  lady  bright,  er  that  my  ship  to- 

breste  ! 

Comfort  is  noon,  but  in  yow,  lady  dere 
For  lo,  my  sinne  and  my  confusioun. 
Which    oughten    not    in    thy    presence 

appere, 
Han  take  on  me  a  grevous  accioun       20 
Of  verrey  right  and  desperacioun; 
And,  as  by  right,  they  mighten  wel  sus- 

tene 
That  I  were  worthy  my  dampnacioun, 
Nere  mercy  of  you,  blisful  hevene  quene. 

Doute  is  ther  noon,  thou  queen  of  miseri- 
corde,  25 

That  thou  nart  cause  of  grace  and  mercy 
here; 


God  vouched  sauf  thurgh  thee  with  us 

tacorde. 
For  certes,  Cristes  blisful  moder  dere, 
Were  now  the  bowe  bent  in  swich  manere, 
As  it  was  first,  of  Justice  and  of  yre,     30 
The  rightful  God  nolde  of  no  mercy  here; 
But  thurgh  thee  han  we  grace,  as  we  de- 

syre. 

Ever  hath  myn  hope  of  refut  been  in  thee, 
For  heer-biforn  ful  ofte,  in  many  a  wyse, 
Hast  thou  to  misericorde  receyved  me. 
But  mercy,  lady,  at  the  grete  assyse,      36 
Whan  we  shul  come  bifore  the  hye  lus- 

tyse! 
So  litel  fruit  shal  thanne  in  me  be  founde, 
That,  but  thou  er  that  day  me  wel  chas- 

tyse, 
Of  verrey  right   my  werk  me  wol  con- 

founde.  40 

Fleeing,  I  flee  for  socour  to  thy  tente 
Me  for  to  hyde  from  tempest  ful  of  drede, 
Biseching  you  that  ye  you  not  absente. 
Though  I  be  wikke.     O  help  yit  at  this 


nede 


44 


Al  have  I  been  a  beste  in  wille  and  dede, 
Yit,  lady,  thou  me  clothe  with  thy  grace. 
Thyn  enemy  and  myn  —  lady,  tak  hede, 
Un-to  my  deth  in  poynt  is  me  to  chace. 

Glorious  mayde  and  moder,  which  that 
never  49 

Were  bitter,  neither  in  erthe  nor  in  see. 
But  ful  of  swetenesse  and  of  mercy  ever, 
Help  that  my  fader  be  not  wroth  with  me  ! 
Spek  thou,  for  I  ne  dar  not  him  y-see. 
So  have  I  doon  in  erthe,  alias  ther-whyle  ! 
That  certes,  but-if  thou  my  socour  be,  55 
To  stink  eterne  he  wol  my  gost  exyle. 


76 


57-128.] 


I.     AN    A.    R.   C. 


77 


He  vouched   sauf,   tcl   him,   as  was    his 

vville, 
Bicoine  a  man,  to  have  our  alliaunce. 
And  with  his  precious  blood  he  wroot  the 

bille 
Up-on  the  crois,  as  general  acquitaunce, 
To  every  penitent  in  ful  creaunce;         6i 
And    therfor,    lady    bright,    thou    for    us 

praye. 
Than  shalt  thou  bothe  stinte  al  his  grev- 

aunce, 
And  make  our  foo  to  failcn  of  his  praye. 

I  wot  it  wel,  thou  wolt  ben  our  socour,  65 
Thou  art  so  ful  of  bountee,  in  certeyn. 
For,  whan  a  soule  falleth  in  errour. 
Thy  pitee  goth  and  haleth  him  ayeyn. 
Than  makest  thou  his  pees  with  his  sov- 

ereyn. 
And   bringest   him   out   of  the  crooked 

strete.  70 

Who-so  thee  loveth  he  shal  not  love  in 

veyn, 
That  shal  he  finde,  as  he  the  lyf  shal  lete. 

Kalenderes  enlumined  ben  they 

That  in  this  world  ben  lighted  with  thy 

name, 
And  who-so  goth  to  you  the  righte  wey,  75 
Ilim  thar  not  dretle  in  soule  to  be  lame. 
Now,  queen  of  comfort,  sith  thou  art  that 

same 
To  whom  I  seche  for  my  medicyne, 
I,at  not  my  foo  no  more  my  wounde  en- 
tame, 
Myn  hele  in-to  thyn  hand  al  I  resigne.  So 

Lady,  thy  sorvve  can  I  not  portreye 
Under  the  cros,  ne  his  grevous  penaunce. 
But,  for  your  bothes  peynes,  I  you  preye, 
Lat  not  our  alder  foo  make  his  bobaunce. 
That  he  hath  in  his  listes  of  mischaunce  85 
Convict  that  ye  bothe  have  bought  so  dere. 
As  I  seide  erst,  thou  ground  of  our  sub- 

staunce. 
Continue  on  us  thy  pitous  eyen  clere  ! 

Moises,  that  saugh  the  bush  with  fiaumes 

rede 
Brenninge,  of  which  ther  never  a  stikke 

brende,  90 

Was  signe  of  thyn  unwemmed  maiden- 

hede. 


Thou  art    tlie  bush    on  which  ther   gan 

descende 
The  Holy  (lost,  the  which  that  Moises 

wende 
Had  ben  a-fyr;  and  this  was  in  figure. 
Now  lady,  from  the  fyr  thou  us  defende 
Which  that  in  helle  eternally  shal  dure.  96 

Noble  princesse,  that  never  haddest  pere, 

C'ertes,  if  any  comfort  in  us  l)e, 

That  Cometh  of  thee,  thou  Cristes  moder 

dere. 
We  han  non  other  melodye  or  glee     100 
Us  to  reioyse  in  our  adversitee, 
Ne  advocat   noon  that  wol  and  dar  so 

preye 
For  us,  and  that  for  litel  hyre  as  ye, 
That  helpen  for  an  Ave-Marie  or  tweye. 

O  verrey  light  of  eyen  that  ben  blinde, 
O  verrey  lust  of  labour  and  distresse, 
O  tresorere  of  bountee  to  mankinde, 
Thee  whom  God  chees  to  moder  for  hum- 

blesse  ! 
From  his   ancille    he   made  thee   mais- 

tresse 
Of  hevene  and  erthe,  our  bille  up  for  to 

bede.  no 

This  world  awaiteth  ever  on  thy  good- 

nesse, 
For  thou  ne  failest  never  wight  at  nede, 

Purpos  I  have  sum  tyme  for  tenquere, 
Wherfore  and  why  the  Holy  Gost  thee 

soughte,  114 

Whan  Gabrielles  vols  cam  to  thyn  ere. 
He    not    to  werre    us    swich    a    wonder 

wroughte. 
But  for  to  save  us  that  he  sithen  boughte. 
Than  nedeth  us  no  wepen  us  for  to  save. 
But  only  ther  we  did  not,  as  us  oughte. 
Do  penitence,  and  mercy  axe  and  have. 

Queen    of  comfort,  yit   whan   I   me    bi- 

thinke 
That  I  agilt  have  bothe,  him  and  thee, 
And  that  my  soule  is  worthy  for  to  sinke, 
Alias,  I,  caitif,  whider  may  I  Hee?       124 
Who  shal  un-to  thy  sone  my  mene  be? 
Who,    but    thy-sclf,    that    art    of    pitee 

welle  ? 
Thou  hast  more  reuthe  on  our  adversitee 
Than  in  this  world  mighte  any  tunge  telle. 


78 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[129-184.     1-16. 


Redresse  me,  moder,  and  me  chastyse, 
For,  certeynly,  my  fadrcs  chastisinge  130 
That  dar  I  nought  abyden  in  no  wyse  : 
So  hidous  is  his  rightful  rekeninge. 
Moder,    of    whom    our    mercy    gan    to 

springe, 
Beth  ye  my  luge  and  eek  my  soules  leche; 
For  ever  in  you  is  pitee  haljoundinge 
To  ech  that  wol  of  pitee  you  biseche. 

Soth  is,  that  God  ne  graunteth  no  pitee 
Withoute  thee;     for  God,  of  his  good- 

nesse, 
Foryiveth  noon,  but  it  lyke  un-to  thee. 
He  hath  thee  maked  vicaire  and  mais- 

tresse  140 

Of  al  the  world,  and  eek  governeresse 
Of  hevene,  and  he  represseth  his  lustyse 
After  thy  wille,  and  therefore  in  witnesse 
He  hath  thee  crouned  in  so  ryal  wise. 

Temple  devout,  ther  god  hath  his  won- 
inge,  145 

Fro  which  these  misbileved  pryved  been, 
To  you  my  soule  penitent  I  bringe. 
Receyve  me  !  I  can  no  ferther  fleen  ! 
With  thornes  venimous,  O  hevene  queen. 
For  which  the  erthe  acursed  was  ful  yore, 
I  am  s(j  wounded,  as  ye  may  wel  seen,  151 
That  I  am  lost  almost;  —  it  smert  so  sore. 

Virgine,  that  art  so  noble  of  apparaile. 
And  ledest  us  in-to  the  hye  tour 
Of  Paradys,  thou  me  wisse  and  counsaile. 
How  I    may    have    thy  grace    and    thy 
socour;  156 

Al  have  I  been  in  filthe  and  in  errour. 


Lady,  un-to  that  court  thou  me  aiourne 
That  clcped  is  thy  bench,  O  fresshe  flour  ! 
Ther-as  that  mercy  ever  shal  soiourne.  160 

Xristus,    thy    sone,  that    in    this    world 

alighte, 
Up-on  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;      165 
And  I  to  him  am  fals  and  eek  unkinde. 
And  yit  he  wol  not  my  dampnacioun  — 
This  thanke  I  you,  socour  of  al  mankinde. 

Ysaac  was  figure  of  his  deeth,  certeyn. 
That  so  fer-fort'^  his  fader  wolde  obeye 
That   him    ne    roughte    no-thing    to    be 

slayn ; 
Right  so  thy  sone  list,  as  a  lamb,  to  deye. 
Now  lady,  ful  of  mercy,  I  you  preye, 
Sith  he  his  mercy  mesured  so  large, 
Be  ye  not  skant ;  for  alle  we  singe  and 

seye  175 

That   ye   ben  from  vengeaunce   ay  our 

targe. 

Zacharie  you  clepeth  the  open  welie 
To  wasshe  sinful  soule  out  of  his  gilt. 
Therfore   this   lessoun   oughte  I  wel  to 

telle 
That,  nere   thy  tender  herte,  we  weren 

spilt.  180 

Now  lady  brighte,  sith  thou  canst  and  wilt 
Ben  to  the  seed  of  Adam  merciable. 
So  bring  us  to  that  palais  that  is  bilt 
To  penitents  that  ben  to  mercy  able. 

Amen. 


Explicit  carmen. 


II.    THE  COMPLEYNTE  UNTO   PITE. 


PiTE,  that  I  have  sought  so  yore  ago, 
With  herte  sore,  and  ful  of  besy  peyne. 
That  in  this  world  was  never  wight  so  wo 
With-oute  dethe;    and,  if  I  shal  not  feyne 
My  purpos  was,  to  Pite  to  compleyne       5 
Upon  the  crueltee  and  tirannye 
of  Love,  that  for  my  trouthe  doth  me  dye. 

And  when  that  I,  by  lengthe  of  certeyn 
yeres, 


Had  ever  in  oon  a  tyme  sought  to  speke, 
To  Pite  ran  \,  al  bespreynt  with  teres,  10 
To  preyen  hir  on  Crueltee  me  awreke. 
But,  er  I  might  with  any  worde  out-breke, 
Or  tellen  any  of  my  peynes  smerte. 
I  fond  hir  deed,  and  buried  in  an  herte. 

Adoun  I  fel,  when  that  I  saugh  the  herse, 

Deed  as  a  stoon,  whyl  that  the  swogh  me 

laste;  16 


I7-9I-] 


II.    THE  COMPLEYNTE   UNTO   PITE. 


79 


But  up  I  roos,  with  colour  ful  diverse, 
And  pitously  on  hir  niyn  yen  caste, 
And  ner  the  corps  I  gan  to  preseii  faste, 
And  for  the  soule    1    shoop    me    for   to 
preye ;  20 

I  nas  but  lorn;   ther  nas  no  more  to  seye. 

Thus  am  I  slayn,  sith  that  Pile  is  deed; 
Alias !    that  day !    that   ever  hit  shulde 

falle  ! 
What  maner  man  dar  now  holde  up  his 

heed?  24 

To  whom  shal  any  sorvvful  herte  calle? 
Now  Crueltee  hath  cast  to  sleen  us  alle, 
In  ydel  hope,  folk  redelees  of  peyne  — 
Sith   she   is   deed  —  to   whom   shul    we 

compleyne? 

But  yet  encreseth  me  this  wonder  newe, 
That  no  wight  woot   that   she  is  deed, 

but  I ;  30 

So  many  men  as  in  hir  tyme  hir  knewe, 
And  yet  she  dyed  not  so  sodeynly; 
For  I  have  sought  hir  ever  ful  besily 
Sith  first  I  hadde  wit  or  mannes  mynde; 
But  she  was  .deed,  er  that  I  coude  hir 

fynde.  35 

Aboute  hir  herse  ther  stoden  lustily, 
Withouten  any  wo,  as  thoughte  me, 
Bountce  parfit,  wel  armed  and  richely, 
And  fresshe  Bcautee,  Lust,  and  lolitee, 
Assured  Maner,  Youthe,  and  Honestee, 
Wisdom,  Estaat,  [and]  Dreed,  and  Gov- 
ernaunce,  41 

Confedred  bothe  by  bonde  and  alliaunce. 

A  compleynt    hadde    I,  writen,   in   myn 

hond, 
For  to  have  put  to  Pite  as  a  bille,  44 

But  whan  I  al  this  conipajiye  ther  fond, 
That  rather  wolden  al  my  cause  spille 
Than   do    me   help,   I    held    my  pleynte 

stille; 
For  to  that  folk,  withouten  any  faile, 
Withoute  Pite  may  no  bille  availe. 

Then  leve  I  al  thise  virtues,  sauf  Pite,  50 
Keping  the   corps,  as  ye   have  herd   me 

seyn, 
Confedred  alle  by  bonde  of  Crueltee, 
And  been  assented  that  I  shal  be  sleyn. 
And  I  have  put  my  compleynt  up  ageyn; 


For  to  my  foos  my  bille  I  dar  not  shewe, 

Theffect  of  which  seith  thus,  in  wordes 

fewe :  —  56 

The  Bille 

^  '  Humblest  of  herte,  hyest  of  reverence, 
Benigne  flour,  coroune  of  vertues  alle, 
Shewcth  unto  your  rial  excellence 
Your  SLTvaunt,  if  I  durste  me  so  calle,  60 
His  mortal  harm,  in  which  he  is  y-falle. 
And  noght  al  only  for  his  evel  fare, 
But  for  your  renoun,  as  he  shal  declare. 

'Hit    stondeth     thus:    your     contraire, 

Crueltee, 
Allyed  is  ageynst  your  regalye  65 

Under  colour  of  womanly  Beautee. 
For    men    [ne]    shuld    not    knowe    hir 

tirannye, 
\Vith  Bountee,  Gentilesse,  and  Curtesye, 
And  hath  depryved  you  now  of  your  place 
That     hight    "  Beautee,    apertenant    to 

Grace."  70 

'  For  kyndly,  by  your  heritage  right, 
Ye  been  annexed  ever  unto  Bountee; 
And  verrayly  ye  oughte  do  your  might 
To  helpe  Trouthe  in  his  adversitee. 
Ye  been  also  the  coroune  of  Beautee;  75 
And  certes,  if  ye  wanten  in  thise  tweyne, 
The  world  is  lore;   ther  nis  no  more  to 
seyne. 

^  '  Eek  what  availeth  Maner  and  Gentil- 
esse 
Withoute  you,  benigne  creature? 
Shal  Crueltee  be  your  governeresse?     80 
Alias!  what  herte  may  hit  longe  endure? 
Wherfor,  but  ye  the  rather  take  cure 
To  breke  that  perilous  alliaunce. 
Ye   sleen   hem  that  ben  in   your   obei- 
saunce. 

'  And  further  over,  if  ye  suffre  this,        85 
Your  renoun  is  fordo  than  in  a  throwe; 
Ther  shal  no  man  wite  wel  what  Pite  is. 
Alias !    that    your   renoun   shuld   be   so 

lowe ! 
Ye  be  than  fro  your  heritage  y-throwe  89 
By  Crueltee,  that  occupicth  your  place; 
And   we   despeired,   that   seken   to   your 

grace. 


8o 


THE    MINOR    rOEMS. 


[92-119.     1-48 


'  Have    mercy    on    me,    thou    Herenus 

quene, 
That    you   have   sought  so  tenderly  and 

yore; 
Let  som  streem  of  your  Hglit  on  me  he 

sene 
That  love  and  drede  you,  ay  lenger  the 

more.  9^ 

For,  sothly  for  to  seyne,  I  here  the  sore, 
And,   though    I  be    not  cunning   for   to 

pleyne, 
For    goddes    love,    have   mercy   on    my 

peyne ! 

^ '  My   peyne   is   this,   that   what    so    I 
desire  99 

That  have  I  not,  ne  no-thing  lyk  therto; 
And  ever  set  Desire  myn  herte  on  tire; 
Eek  on  that  other  syde,  vvher-so  I  go. 
What  maner  thing  that  may  encrese  wo 
That  have  I  redy,  unsoght,  everywhere; 

Here  endelh  the  exclanit 


Me  [ne]  lakketh  but  my  deth,  and  than 
my  here.  105 

'  What   nedeth   to    shewe    parcel  of   my 

peyne  ? 
Sith  every  wo  that  herte  may  bethinke 
I  suffre,  and  yet  I  dar  not  to  you  pleyne; 
For  wel   1  woot,   al-though    I    wake    or 

winke,  109 

Ye  relcke  not  whether  I  flete  or  sinke. 
But  natheles,  my  trouthe  I  slial  sustene 
Unto  my  deth,  and  that  shal  wel  be  sene. 

'  This  is  to  seyne,  I  wol  be  youres  ever; 
Though  ye  me  slee  by  Crueltee,  your  fo, 
Algate  my  spirit  shal  never  dissever    115 
Fro  your  servyse,  for  any  peyne  or  wo. 
vSith  ye  be  deed  —  alias  !  that  hit  is  so  !  — 
Thus  for  your  deth  I  may  wel  wepe  and 

pleyne 
With  herte  sore  and  ful  of  besy  peyne.' 
acion  of  the  Deth  of  Pyte. 


III.     THE   BOOK   OF   THE   DUCHESSE. 


V 


The  Proem. 


I  HAVE  gret  wonder,  by  this  lighte, 
How  that  I  live,  for  day  ft^nighte 
I  may  nat  slepe  wel  nigh  noght;  rvjtl^"'^ 
I  have  so  many  an  ydel  thoght  J 

Purely  for  defaufte  of  slepe,  5 

That,  by  my  trouthe,  I  take  kepe 
Of  no-thing,  how  hh  cometh  or  goth, 
Ne  me  nis  no-thing  l^ef  nor  loth.    , 
Al  is  y-y^h^^good  io^W—       ^OoS4. 
/,\Ioye  or  sdrov^e,  wherso  hit  be —    ,.  f>^0 

'    !.-.._  T   1 f  .1; :_   __   iL.- ^v^"' 


or  sdrovv 
For  I  have  felin^in  no-thing, 

m _Butj_as_it  w^erej^  a  ma^efi  thing, 

Alway  in  point  to  falle  a-doun; 


V'i^J^ 


For  [sory]  imaginacioun 

Is  alway  hoolly  in  my  minde. 

And  wel  ye  wft^  agaynes  kinde 
Hit  were  to  liven  in  this  wyse;  ^  ..v\< 
For  nature  wolde  nat  suffyse 
To  noon  erthely  creature 
Not  longe  tyme  to  endure 
Withoute  slepe,  and  been  in  sorwe; 
And  I  ne  may,  ne  night  ne  morwe, 
Slepe;   and  thus  melancolye, 


15 


25 


30 


35- 


And  dreed  I  have  for  to  dye, 
Defaute  of  slepe,  and  hevinesse 
Hath  sleyn  my  spirit  of  quiknesse,   „ 
That  I  have  lost  al  lustihede.  \Xx^i\\>X,^i'ji 
Suche  fantasyes  ben  in  myn  hede       \j:C(ji^ 
So  I  not  what  is  best  to  do. 

But  men  mighte  axe  me,  why  so 
I  may  not  slepe,  and  what  me  is? 
Hiit  i-mtheles,  who  aske  this 
lleg'em  his  asking  trewely. 
My-selven  can  not  telle  why 
The  sooth;   but  trewely,  as  I  gesse, 
I  holde  hit  be  a  siknesse 
That  I  have  sij^ff red  this  eight  yere, 
And  yet  my  ^5fe^ never  the  nere; 
For  ther  is  phisicien  but  oon, 
That  may  me  hele;    but  that  is  doon.    40 
Passe  we  over  until  eft;C-AiA/T^ 
That  wil  not  be,  moo^netle  be  left; 
Our  first  niatere  is  good  to  kepe. 

So  whan  I  saw  I  might  not  slepe, 
Til  now  late,  tliis  other  night,  45 

Upon  my  bedde  I  sat  upright, 
And  bad  oon  I'^drte  me  a  book, 
A  roniaunce,  and  he  hit  me  took 


49-1 54-] 


III.     THE  IK)OK   OF  THE   DUCHESSE. 


To  rede  and  dryve  the  night  away; 

Fur  me  tlioghtc  it  better  play  50 

Then  playen  either  at  chesse  or  tables. 

Am!  in  this  hoke  were  writen  fables 
That  clerUes  hadde,  in  olde  tynie, 
And  other  poets,  put  in  ryme 
To  retle,  and  for  to  be  in  niinde  55 

\Vhyl  men  loved  the  lawe  of  kinde. 
This  l)ook  ne  spak  lint  of  such  thinges, 
Of  ([uenes  lyves,  and  of  kinges, 
And  many  othere  thinges  smale. 
Amonge  al  tliis  I  fond  a  tale  60 

That  me  thoughte  a  wonder  thing. 

This  was  the  tale :  Ther  was  a  king 
That  highte  Seys,  and  hadde  a  wyf, 
The  heste  that  mighte  here  lyf ; 
And  this  quene  highte  Alcyone.  65 

So  hit  befel,  therafter  sone, 
This  king  wolde  wenden  over  see. 
To  tellen  shortly,  whan  that  he 
Was  in  the  see,  thus  in  this  wyse, 
Soche  a  tempest  gan  to  ryse  70 

That  brak  hir  mast,  and  made  it  falle, 
And  clefte  hir  ship,  and  dreinte  hem  alle, 
That  never  was  founden,  as  it  telles, 
Bord  ne  man,  ne  nothing  elles. 
Right  thus  this  king  Seys  loste  his  lyf.  75 

Now  for  to  speken  of  his  wyf:  — 
This  lady,  that  was  left  at  home, 
Hath  wonder,  that  the  king  ne  come 
Hoom,  for  hit  was  a  longe  terme. 
Anon  her  hevte  gan  to  erme;  '■Y'-'^        ^° 
And  for  that  hir  thoughte  evermo 
Hit  was  not  wel  [he  tiwelte]  so, 
She  longed  so  after  the  king 
That  certes,  hit  were  a  pitous  thing 
To  telle  hir  hertely  sorwful  lyf  85 

That  hadde,  alas  !  this  noble  wyf.; 
For  him  she  loved  alderbest.  ^Oe^^  %'*^ 
Anon  she  sente  bothe  eest  and  west 
To  seke  him,  but  they  founde  nought. 

'  Alasi "  auo^h  she, '  that  I  was  wrought ! 
And  ^W^^  niy  lord,  my  love,  be  deed?  91 
Certes,  I  nil  never  ete  breed, 
I  make  a-vowe  to  my  god  here, 
Hut  I  rrKHf  e  of  my  lorde  here  ! ' 
Such  sorwe  this  lady  to  her  took  95 

That  trewely  I,  which  made  this  book. 
Hail  swich  pite  and  swich  rowthe>Hn 
To  rede  hir  sorwe,  that,  by  my  trowthe, 
1  ferde  the  worse  al  the  morwetwv.'ft-u) 
After,  to  thenken  on  her  sorwe.  lOO 

So  whan  [she]  coude  here  no  word 


That  no  man  mighte  fynde  hir  lord, 
Ful  oft  she  swouned,  and  seide  '  alas  ! ' 
For  sorwe  ful  nigli  ■^iic^  she  was, 
Ne  she  ct)udc  no  reed  l)ut  oon;  105 

l!ut  doun  on  knees  she  sat  anoon, 
And  weep,  that  pite  was  to  here. 

'  A  !  mercy  !  jwete  lady  dere  ! ' 
Quod  she  to(Tunp',  hir  goddesse; 
'  Help  me  out  of  this  distresse,  IIO 

And  yeve  me  grace  my  lord  to  see 
Sone,  or  wite  wher-so  he  be. 
Or  how  he  fareth,  or  in  what  wyse, 
And  I  shal  make  you  sacrifyse. 
And  holly  youres  become  I  shal  1 15 

With  good  wil,  body,  herte,  and  al; 
And  but  thou  wilt  this,  lady  swete, 
Send  me  grace  to  slepe,  and  mete 
In  my  slepe  som  certeyn  sweven,tl«'-8a-*-— 
Wher-through  that  I  may  kiiowen  even 
Whether  my  lord  be  quik  or  deed.'      121 
With  that  word  she  heng  doun  the  heed, 
And  fd  a-swown  as  cold  as  ston ; 
Hir  women  caughte  her  up  anon. 
And  broghte^  hy-  in,l^^J^j;jke|l^  ^^_Z5  uy<^i-«^«'A 
And  she,  forwepe'd  and  fojriiai^^^tft  >^/«^'y   •(6-ve-o_»t_ 
Was  wery,  and  thus  the  dede  sleep  oj^-'t cJ^tr^  . 

Fil  on  her,  or  she  toke  keep,  ^ 

Through  luno,  that  had  herd  hir  bone,  CV^^-y  ^'^ 
That  made  hir  [for]to  slepe  sone;  I30^»!  ic<^1' 
F'or  as  she  prayde,  so  was  don,  0 

In  dede;   for  luno,  right  anon. 
Called  thus  her  messagere 
To  do  her  erande,  and  he  com  nere. 
Whan  he  was  come,  she  bad  him  thus: 
'Go  bet,'  quod  luno,  '  to  Morpheus,    136 
Thou  knowest  him  wel,  the  god  of  sleep;. 
Now  understond  wel,  and  tak  keep,    f-^.-tlc 
Sey  thus  on  my  halfe,  that  he 
Go  faste  into  the  grete  see,  140 

And  bid  him  that,  on  alle  thing. 
He  take  up  Seys  body  the  king, 
That  lyth  ful  pale  and  no-thing  rody. 
Bid  him  crepe  into  the  body. 
And  do  it  goon  to  Alcyone  145 

The  quene,  ther  she  lyth  alone, 
And  shewe  hir  shortly,  hit  is  no  nay, 
How  hit  was  ^\reyxit  this  other  day;  (Vfd 
And  do  the  body  speke  so 
Right  as  hit  was  wont  to  do,  150 

The  whyles  that  hit  was  on  lyve. 
Go  now  faste,  and  hy  thee  blyve  ! '  ^\^-'<- 

This  messager  took  leve  and  wente  ^ 

Upon  his  wey,  and  never  ne  stente.  |-j  y^y.k 


L 


,<.  Jkjid 


\lZ. 


82 


THE  MINOR   POEMS. 


[155-259- 


\ 


Til  he  com  to  the  derke  valeye  155 

That  slant  bytwene  roches  tweye, 
Ther  never  yet  grew  corn  ne  gras, 
Ne  tree,  ne  nothing  that  ought  was, 
Beste,  ne  man,  ne  nothing  elles, 
Save  ther  were  a  fewe  welles  1 60 

Came  renning  fro  the  cliffes  adoun, 
That  made  a  deedly  sleping  soun, 
And  ronnen  doun  right  by  a  cave 
That  was  under  a  rokke  y-grave  ^'^' 
Amid  the  valey,  wonder  depe.  165 

Ther  thise  goddes  laye  and  slepe, 
Morpheus,  and  Eclympasteyre, 
That  was  the  god  of  slepes  heyre, 
That  slepe  and  did  non  other  werk. 

This  cave  was  also  as  derk  170 

As  helle  pit  over-al  aboute  ;  ^ 

They  had  good  leyser  for  to  route  <^  ' 
To  envye,  who  might  slepe  beste; 
Some  henge  hir  chin  upon  hir_breste 
And  slepe  upright,  hir  heed  \^^,      1 75 
And  some  laye  naked  in  hir  bed, 
And  slepe  whyles  the  dayes  laste. 

This  messager  com  flying  faste. 
And  cryed,  '  O  ho  !   awak  anon  !  '         179 
Hit  was  for  noght ;   ther  herde  him  non. 
'  Awak  ! '  quod  he,  '  who  is,  lyth  there?  ' 
And  blew  his  horn  right  in  hir  ere, 
And  cryed  '  awaketh  ! '  wonder  hye.    w*- 
This  god  of  slepe,  with  his  oon  ye  r-*"     * 
Cast  up,  axed,  'who  clepeth  there?'    185 
'  Hit  am  I,'  quod  this  mes%a?ere; 
'  luno  bad  thou  shuldest  goon  '  — 
And  tolde  him  what  he  shulde  doon 
As  I  have  told  yow  here-tofore; 
Hit  is  no  need  rehe^e  hit  more;  190 

And  wente  his  we^,  whan  he  had  sayd. 

Anon  this  god  of  slepe  a-braydf.>/</cli^ 
Out  of  his  slepe,  and  gan  to  goon, 
And  did  as  he  had  bede  him  doon; 
Took  up  the  dreynte  body  sone,  195 

And  bar  hit  forth  to  Alcyone, 
His  wyf  the  quene,  ther-as  she  lay, 
Right  even  a  quarter  before  day, 
And  stood  right  at  hir  beddes  fete, 
And  called  hir,  right  as  she  hete,  200 

By  name,  and  seyde,  '  my  swete  wyf, 
Awak  !   let  be  your  sorwful  lyf !  (V  j^ 

For  in  your  sorwe  ther  lyth  no  reed;  /t'*^ 
For  certes,  swete,  I  nam  but  deed; 
Ye  shul  me  never  on  lyveiy'see.  205 

But  good  swete  herte,  [lopk]  that  ye 
Bury  my  body,  [at  whiche]  a  tyde 


Ye  mowe  hit  finde  the  see  besyde;      \,(}^'^ 
And  far-wel,  swete,  my  worldes  blisse  P*  ^ 
I  praye  god  your  sorwe  lisse;  i'*~^^^  ?\^^ 
To  litel  whyl  our  blisse  lastcth  !  't-y^ 

With  that  hir  eyen  up  she  casteth, 
And  saw  noght;    '  [A]  !  '  quod  she,  '  for 

sorwe ! ' 
And  deyed  within  the  thridde  morwe.       0 
But  what  she  sayde  more  in  that  swow^^ 
I  may  not  telle  yow  as  now,  216 

Hit  were  to  longe  for  to  dwelle; 
My  first  matere  I  wil  yow  telle, 
Wherfor  I  have  told  this  thing 
Of  Alcione  and  Seys  the  king.  220 

For  thus  moche  dar  I  saye  wel, 
I  had  be  doHen^everydel,  ^'  rtX^i 
Andjdepd,  right  through  defaute  of  sleep, 
If  I  nM  'reci  and  taken  keep 
Of  this  tale  next  before  :  225 

And  I  wol  telle  yow  wherfore; 
For  I  ne  might,  for  bote  ne  bale,  «<,ccv  ftf 
Slepe,  or  I  had  red  this  tale  Q^^   ,  j| 

Of  this  dreynte  Seys  the  king, 
And  of  the  goddes  of  sleping.  230 

Whan  I  had  red  this  tale  wel. 
And  over-loked  hit  everydel. 
Me  thoughte  wonder  if  hit  were  so; 
For  I  had  never  herd  speke,  or  tho, 
Of  no  goddes  that  coude  make  235 

Men  [for]  to  slepe,  ne  for  to  wake; 
For  I  ne  knew  never  god  but  oon. 
And  in  my  gamp  T  ^f^yrjp  anonn — <^'*-*^ 
And  yetCme  list  H^ht  dVM'  to  pleye  — 
'  Rather  then  that  I  shulde  deye  240 

Through  defaute  of  sleping  thus, 
I  wolde  yive  thilke  Morpheus, 
Or  his  goddesse,  dame  luno,    ^^/t 
Or  som  wight  elles,  I  ne  roghte  who  — 
To  make  me  slepe  and  have  som  teste  — 
I  wil  yive  him  the  akler-beste  246 

Yift  that  ever,  he  ab(5(56trtris  lyve. 
And  here  on  \i^iy(m;'tigtif-ni.\<'";J^s  blyve; 
If  he  wol  make  me  slepe  a  lyte,   c\  VMti 
Of  downe  of  pure  dowves  whyte  250 

I  wil  yive  him  a  fether-bed. 
Rayed  with  golde,  and  right  wjel  cled 
In  fyn  blak  satin  doutremere,  wrUuv- 
And  many  a  pilow,  and  every  here    . 
Of  clothe  of  Reynes,  to  slepe  softe;     255 
Him  thar  not  nede  to  turnen  ofte. 
And  I  wol  yive  him  al  that  falles 
To  a  chambre;    and  al  his  halles 
I  wol  do  peynte  with  pure  golde, 


0^ 


*^-^ 


)J^ 


l/\X 


yA\) 


rwi  ■ 


260-360.] 


III.     THE   nOOK    OF   THR    DUCIIESSE. 


83 


260 


And  tapite  hem  ful  many  folde 
Of  00  suite;    this  shal  he  have, 
If  I  wiste  wher  were  his  cave, 
If  he  can  make  me  slepe  sune, 
As  dill  the  goddesse  Alcione. 
And  thus  this  ilke  god,  Morpheus, 
May  winne  of  me  mo  fees  th us ^ ^^,.'?«  •^^' 
Than  ever  he  wan;    and  to  lun'O,     f*"^ 
That  is  his  goddesse,  I  shal  so  do,        .^ 
1  trow  that  3he  shal  holde  her  payd.'V* 


.fe, 


I  hadde  mMrffi/ that  word  y-sayd  \T^er^To  finde  out  mery  crafty  notes; 

They  ne  spared  not  hir  throtes.  320 

Ami,  sooth  toseyn,  my  chamiire  was  ^ 
Ful  wel  de'p*^yTit«l,  and  w{?ff"glas  "^  ^ 


Right  thus  as  I  have  told^lyt  yow 
That  sotlcynly,  I  iMf?^i>vv, 
Swich  a  hislj  anoon  me  took 
To  slep(*?^nat  rigiit  upon  my  book 


therwith  even 


275 


I  hi  aslope,  an( 

Me  mette  so  ilfly'?wete  a  svveven. 

So  wonderful,  tiiat  never  yit 

I  trovve,rLO  lEUin  hadde  the  wit 

To  ^WnHife^wel  my  sweven  rede;  M^ 'f -.J' 

No,  not  loseph,  withoute  drede,  lf^  ''|So 

Of  Egipte,  he  that  rede  so 

The  kiiiges  meting  Pharao, 

No  more  than  comle  the  leste  of  us; 

Ne  nat  scarsly  Macrobeus, 

(He  that  wroot  al  thavisioun  285 

That  he  mette,  king  Scipioun, 

The  nuble  man,  the  Affrican  — 

Swiche  mervavles  fortuned  than) 

I  tr9^,'l-rede'1h'iyyremes  even. 

Lo,  thus  hit  was,  this  was  my  sweven.  290 

The  Dream. 

Me  thoughte  thus  :  —  that  hit  was  May, 
And  in  the  dawning  ther  I  lay. 
Me  mette  thus,  in  my  bed  al  naked  :  — 
[I]  hiked  forth,  for  I  was  waked 
With  smale  foules  a  gret  hepe,  295 

That  had  affrayed  me  out  of  slepe 
Through   noyse    and    swetnesse    of    hir 

And,  as  me  rnetfe,  they  sate  among, 

Upon  my  chambre-roof  withoute, 

Upon  the  tyles,  al  a-ljoute,  300 

And  songen,  everich  in  his  wyse, 

The  moste  solempne  servyse 

By  note,  that  ever  man,  I  trowe, 

Had  herd;    for  som  of  hem  song  lowe, 

Som  liye,  and  al  of  oon  acorde.  305 

To  telle  shortly,  at  00  worde,  Ji 

Was  never  y-herd  so  swete  a  stevenV)* 

But  hit  had  be  a  thing  of  heven;  — 


So  mery  a  soun,  so  swete  entunes, 
That  certes,  for. the  to"i!ine^  of  Tewnes,  310 
I  ni!)Idt5  biit  T-^cld  herd  hem  singe, 
For  al  my  chambre  gan  to  ringe 
Through  singing  of  hir  armonye. 
For  instrument  nor  melodye 
Was  nowher  herd  yet  half  so  swete,    315 
Nor  of  acorde  half  so  mete;  J^.  vViVov' 
For  ther  was  noon  of  hem  that  feyned 
'(»To  singe,  for  ech  of  hem  him  peyned 


340 


Were  al  the  windows  wel  y-glased, 

P'ul  clere,  and  nat  an  hole  y-_crased,  c  v-dc  [e-eJl 

That  to  beholde  hit  was  gret  loye.      325 

For  hoolly  al  the  storie  of  Troye 

Was  in  the  glasing  y-wroght  thus, 

Of  Ector  and  king  Priamus, 

Of  Achilles  and  Lamedon, 

Of  Medea  and  of  lason,  330 

Of  Paris,  Eleyne,  and  Lavyne. 

And  alle  the  walles  with  colours  fyne  , 

Were  peynted,  bothe  text  and  glose,  c.r-Wv^v.a^- J 

[Of]  al  the  Romaunce  of  the  Rose. 

My  windowes  weren  shet  echon,  335 

And  through  the  glas  the  sunne  shon 

Upon  my  bed  with  bjrio;hte  hemes, 

With  many  glap«rgii^OTW?remes; 

And  eek  the  wdken  was.sQ  fair, 

Blew,  bright,  cl6re  was  tn^air. 

And  ful  ateftt^iire^'fo'r'^SfM^hit  was ; 

For  nother  cold  nor  hoot  hit  nas, 

Ne  in  al  the  welken  was  a  cloude. 

And  as  I  lay  thus,  wonder  loude 
Me  thoughte  I  herde  an  hunte  blowe  345 
Tassaye  his  horn,  and  for  to  knowe 
Whether  hit  were  clere  or  hors  of  soune. 

I  herde  goinge,  up  and  doune. 
Men,  hors,  houndes,  and  other  thing; 
And  al  men  speken  of  hunting,  350 

How    they    wolde    slee    the    hert   with 

strengthe, 
And  how  the  hert  had,  upon  lenethCjf; 
So  moche  cnMs^dH  ^wHlbw  -^atT^     '^ 
Anon-right,  whan  I  herde  that, 
How  that  they  wolde  on  hunting  goon, 
1  was  right  glad,  and  up  anoon;  356 

[I]  took  my  hors,  and  forth  I  wente  . 

Out  of  my  chambre ;   I  never  stente  S  ^^^j^itJl 
Til  I  com  to  the  feld  withoute. 
Ther  overtook  I  a  gret  route  360 


rtk-^ 


'V 


> 


•^ 


K 


84 


^.  ,Y< 


T 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[361-466. 


365 


385 


Of  huntes  ancUeek  of  foresteres,  ^ 

With  many  relayes  ami  lymeres,  r^ 

And  hyed  hem  to  the  forest  faste 

And  I  with  hem;  — so  at  the  laste 

I  asked  oon,  laddg^a  lymere  :  — 

'  Say,  felovv,  who  shal  huiiten  here  ' 

Quod  I;    and  he  answerde  ageyn, 

'  Sir,  themperour  Octovien,' 

Quod  he, '  and  is  heer  faste  by.' 

'  A  goddes  halfe,  in  good  tyme,'  quod    I, 

'  Go  we  faste  !  '  and  gan  to  ryde.  371 

Whan  we  came  to  the  forest-syde, 

Every  man  dide,  right  anoon, 

As  to  hunting  fil  to  doon.      „>^^:^(-dL, 

Ihe  mayster-hunte  anoon,  fot-hoot,     37^ 

With  a  gret  home  blew  three  nloot\^^^ 

At  the  uncoupling  of  his  houndes. 

Within  a  whyl  the  hert  [y]-founde  is, 

Y-halowed,  and  rechased  faste 

Longe  tynie;    and  at  the  laste,  380 

This  hert  rused  and^stal  away 

Fro  alle  the  houndes  a  prevy  way. 

The  houndes  had  overshote  hem  alle, 

And^^^ercon  a  defaute  y-falTej) 

TherwitRTh5;lTunte  wonder  faste 

Blew-»^loyn  at  the  laste. 

I  was  gcTwalked  fro  my  tree. 
And  as  I  wente,  ther  cam  by  me 
A  whelp,  that  fanned  me  as  I  stood. 
That  hadde  y-folowed,  and  coude  no  good. 
Hit  com  and  creep  to  me  as  lowe,    ,    391 
Right  as  hit  hadde  me  ydvuowe, :>>^^A,>^in 
Hild  doun  his  heed  and  loyned'  his  er'^jif 
And  leyde  al  smothe  doun  his  heres.  "^^ 
I  wolde  han  caught  hit,  and  anoon     395 
Hit  fledde,  and  was  fro  me  goon; 
And  I  him  folwed,  and  hit  forth  w.ente 
Doun  by  a  floury  grene  wente  |^^h-,j^^ 
Ful  thikke  of  gras,  ful  softe  and  swete, 
With  floures  fere^^^f^ll^  under  fete,       400\ 
And  Htel  used,  hit  seemed  thus; 
For  bothe  Flora  and  Zephirus, 
They  two  that  make  floures  growe, 
Had  mad  hir  dwelling  ther,  I  trowe; 
For  hit  was,  on  to  beholde,  405 

As  thogh  the  erthe  envye  wolde 
To  be  gayer  than  the  heven. 
To  have  mo  floures,  swiche  seven 
As  in  the  welken  sterres  be. 
Hit  had  forgete  the  povertee  410 

That  winter,  through  his  colde  morwes, 
Had  mad  hit  suffren,  and  his  sorwes; 
Al  was  forgeten,  and  that  was  sene. 


For  al  the  wode  was  waxen  grene, 
Swetnesse  of  dewe  had  mad  it  waxe.  415 

Hit  is  no  need  eek  for  to  axe 
Wlier  ther  were  many  grene  greves, 
Or  thikke  of  trees,  so  ful  of  leves; 
And  every  tree  stood  by  him-selve 
Fro  other  wel  ten  foot  or  twelve.         420 
So  grete  trees,  so  huge  of  strengthe. 
Of  fourty  or  fifty  fadme  lengthe, 
Clene  withoute  bough  or  stikke, 
With  croppes  brode,  and  eek  as  thikke  — 
They  were  nat  an  inche  a-sonder —    425 
That  hit  was  shadwe  over-al  under; 
And  many  an  hert  and  many  an  hinde 
Was  both  before  me  and  bihinde. 
Of  founes,  satfpes,  otkkes,  does 
Was  ful  the  wode,  "^nd  many  roes,      430 
And  many  squirelles  that  sete 
Ful  hye  upon  the  trees,  and  ete, 
And  in  hir  maner  made  festes. 
Shortly,  hit  was  so  ful  of  bestes, 
That  thogh  Argus,  the  noble  countour, 
Sete  to  rekene  in  his  countour,         ^36 
And  rekened  with  his  figures  ten  — 
For  by  tho  figures  mowe  al  ken,  •.  .        ""^^ 
If  they  be  crafty,  rekene  and  noumbre, 
And  telle  of  every  thing  the  noumbre  — 
Yet  shulde  he  fayle  to  rekene  even     441 
The  wondres,  me  mette  in  my  sweven 

But  forth  they  romed  wonder  faste 
Doun  the  wode;   so  at  the  laste 
I  was  war  of  a  man  in  blak,  441; 

That  sat  and  had  y-turned  his  bak 
To  an  oke,  an  huge  tree. 
'  Lord,'  thoghte  I,  '  who  may  that  be?' 
What  ayleth  him  to  sitten  here? 
Anoon-right  I  wente  nere;  450 

Than  fond  I  sitte  even  upright 
A  wonder  wel-faringe  knight  — 
By  the  maner  me  thoughte  so  — 
Of  good  rrt(5eft%l,  and  yong  therto, 
Of  the  age  of  four  and  twenty  yeer.    455 
Upon  his  berde  but  litel  heer. 
And  he  was  clothed  al  in  blakke. 
I  stalked  even  unto  his  bakke. 
And  ther  I  stood  as  stille  as  ought. 
That,  sooth  to  saye,  he  saw  me  nought, 
For-why  he  heng  his  heed  adoune.      461 
And  with  a  deedly  sorwful  soune 
He  made  of  ryme  ten  vers  or  twelve. 
Of  a  compleynt  to  him-selve. 
The  moste  pite,  the  moste  rowthe,      465 
That  ever  I  herde;   for,  by  my  trowthe, 


467-573] 


III.    THE   BOOK   OF  THE  DUCHESSE. 


85 


Hit  was  gret  wonder  that  nat'^g 
Mif;ht  suffrcn  any  creature  .^^^^ 
in  have  swich  sorwe,  and  1^^  j,p„ '^eed. 
lul  pitous,  pale.  a\\d  nuthinj,.  .eed,      470 

I  le  sayile  a  IJ^^  inWVfcf^ong, 
Withoute  note,  withoute  song, 
And  hit  \>as  this;    for  wel  I  can 
Keherse  hit;    right  thus  hit  began.  — 

II  '  I  have  of  sorwe  so  gret  woon,         475 
I'hat  loye  gete  1  never  noon, 

Now  that  I  see  my  lady  bright, 

Which  I  have  loved  with  al  my  might. 
Is  fro  nie  deed,  antl  is  a-goon.  479 

^  Alias,  [o]  deeth!   wljat  ayleth  thee, 
That  thou  nbltresfiiaN'e  taken  me,       482 

Whan  that  thou  toke  my  lady  swete? 
That  was  so  fayr,  so  fresh,  so  free, 
So  good,  that  men  may  wel  [y]-see    485 

Of  al  goodnesse  she  had  no  mete!  '  — 
Whan  he  had  mad  thus  his  complaynte, 
His  sorowful  herte  gan  faste  faynte. 
And  his  spirites  wexen  dede; 
The  blood  was  fled,  for  pure  drede,     490 
Doun  to  his  herte,  to  make  him  warm  — 
For  wel  hit  feled  the  herte  had  harm. — 
To  wite  eek  why  hit  was  a-drad  f,,  t  (  li^I 
By  kinde,  and  for  to  make  hit  glad; 
For  hit  is  membre  principal  495 

Of  the  body;    and  that  made  al 
His  hewe  chaunge  and  weace  grene 
And  pale,  for  no  blood  [was]  sene 
In  no  maner  lime  of  his. 


Anpon  therwith  whan  I  saw  this. 


■7 


',  ^ 


He  f*[^-thus  <^\>M  ther  he  sete, 
I  wcn'te  and  stood  right  at  his  fete, 
And  grette  him,  but  he  spak  noght, 
But  argued  with  his  owne  thoght, 
And  in  his  witte  disputed  faste 
Why  and  how  his  lyf  might  laste 
Him  thoughte  his  sorwes  were  so  smerl^e 
And  lay  so  colde  upon  his  herte; 
.So,  through  his  sorwe  and  hevy  thoght, 
Made  him  that  he  ne  herde  me  noght;  510 
I'or  he  had  wel  nigh  lost  his  minde, 
Thogh  Pan,  that  men  clepe  god  of  kinde. 
Were  for  his  sorwes  never  so  wrooth. 
But  at  the  laste,  to  sayn  right  sooth, 
He  was  war  of  me,  hp,w  I  s|ood  515 

Before  him,  and  dicfe'Cf  i^j^  hood, 
And  [grette]  him,  as  I  best  coude. 
Debonairly,  and  no-thing  loude. 
He  sayde,  '  I  prey  thee,  be  not  wrooth, 
I  herde  thee  not,  to  sayn  the  sooth,    520 


Ne  I  saw  thee  not,  sir, 

'A!  goode  sir,  no'^fOTs)*'quod  I, 
'  I  am  right  sory  if  I  have  ought 
Destroubled  yow  out  of  your  thought; 
For-yive  me  if  1  have  mis-take.'  525 

'  Yis,  thamendes  is  light  tt)  make,' 
(>od  he,  '  for  ther  l>'<lfvlbon  ther-to; 
Iher  is  no-thing  missayd  nor  do.' 

Lo  !   how  goodly  spak  this  knight,  ^-^  ' 

As  it  had  been  another  wiglit;  530    ^i  '       %^ 

He  made  it  nouther  tough  ne  Cjueynte.    ^  ^\\:       f 
And  I  saw  that,  and  gan  me  aqucynte     '■^       \)  \* 
With  him,  and  fond  him  so  tretable,  ■,-y.£-/^■^]^      .    ^ 
Right  woniler  skilful  and  resonable,|     ;  ►^-  «-^r^  *" 
As  me  thoghte,  for  al  his  bale.\>,iJ^l   535  \-t^^^ 
Anoon-right  I  gan  rtnde  a  tale  lv.<i-v-i 

To  him,  to  loke  wher  I  might  ought     ^^^^t^ 
Have  more  knowing  of  his  thought. 

'  Sir,'  quod  I,  '  this  game  is  doon; 
I  holde  that  this  hert  be  goon;  540  j.      ^ 

Thise  huntes  conne  him  nowher  see.'  -<,»/^ 

'  I  do  no  fors  therof,'  quod  he,  f     C-  ^"^ 

'  My  thought  is  ther-on  never  a  del.'   '^ 

'  By  our  lord,'  quod  I,  '  I  trow  yow  wel,  • 
I  Right  so  me  thinketh  by  your  chere.  545 
'^But,  sir,  00  thing  wol  ye  here? 
Me  thinketh,  in  gret  sorwe  I  yow  see; 
But  certes,  [good]  sir,  yif  that  ye 
Wolde  ought  discure  me  your  wo, 
I  wolde,  as  wis  god  helpe  me  so,  550 

Amende  hit,  yif  1  can  or  may;    ^ 
Ye  mWe  "^ve  h?t^By  assay.  V-'A  ^  ^^ 

'■For,  by  my  trouthe,  to  make  yow  hool,   \Jov*^ 
I  wol  do  al  my  power  hool;  vj^vsO- 
And  telleth  me  of  your  sorwes  smerte, 
Paraventure  hit  may  ese  your  herte,    556 
That  semeth  ful  seke  under  your  syde.' 

With  that  he  loked  on  me  asyde. 
As  who  sayth,  '  nay,  that  wol  not  be.' 
'  Graunt  mercy,  goode  frend,'  quod  he, 
'  I  thanke  thee  that  thou  woldest  so,  561 
But  hit  may  never  the  rather  be  do. 
No  man  may  my  sorwe  glade, 
That  maketh  my  hewe  to  falle  and  fade. 
And  hath  myn  understonding  lorn,      565 
That  me  is  wo  that  I  was  born  ! 
May  noght  make  my  sorwes  slyde, 
Nought  the  remedies  of  Ovyde; 
Ne  Orpheus,  god  of  melodye, 
Ne  Dedalus,  with  playes  slye;  570 

Ne  hele  me  may  phisidien, 
Noght  Vpocras,  ne  Cialien; 
Me  is  wo  that  1  live  houres  twelve; 


86 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[574-^77- 


But  who  so  vvol  assaye  hiin-selve 

Whether  his  herte  can  have  pite  575 

Of  any  sorwe,  lat  him  see  me. 

I  wrecche,  that  deeth  hath  mad  al  naked 

Of  alle  hhsse  that  was  ever  maked, 

Y-worthe  worste  of  alle  wightes, 

That  hate  my  dayes  and  my  nightes; 

My  lyf,  my  lustes  he  me  lothe,  581 

For  al  welfare  and  I  be  wrothe. 

The  pure  deeth  is  so  my  fo, 

[Thogh]  I  wolde  deye,  hit  wolde  not  so; 

For  whan  I  folvve  hit,  hit  wol  flee;      585 

I  wolde  have  [hit],  hit  nil  not  m^.      ^   ■ 

This  is  my  peyne  withoute  reed, '^"^.■>'*''^ 

Alway  deying,  and  be  not  deed,  ',^.t  vi 

That  Sesiphus,  that  lyth  in  helle,     t^^^ 

May  not  of  more  sorwe  telle.  590 

And  who  so  wiste  al,  by  my  trouthe, 

My  sorwe,  but  he  hadde  routhe 

And  pite  of  my  sorwes  smerte. 

That  man  hath  a  feendly  herte. 

For  who  so  seeth  me  first  on  morwe   595 

May  seyn,  he  hath  [y]-met  with  sorwe; 

For  I  am  sorwe  and  sorwe  is  I. 

'Alias!   and  I  wol  telle  the  why; 
My  [song]  is  turned  to  pleyning, 
And  al  my  laughter  to  weping,         .    600 
My  glade  thoghtes  to  hevinesse,  j  ■  V^*/' 
In  travaile  is  myn  ydelness^j^*'-  \  '"' 

And  eek  my  reste ;    my  wele  is  wo. 
My  good  is  harm,  and  ever-mo 
In  wrathe  is  turned  my  pleying,  605 

And  my  delyt  in-to  sorwing. 
Myn  hele  is  turned  into  seeknesse, 


;^ 


In  drede  is  al  my  sikernesse.  ^( 

To  derke  is  turned  al  my  light. 

My  wit  is  foly,  my  day  is  night,  610 

My  love  is  hate,  my  sleep  waking. 

My  mirthe  and  meles  is  fasting. 

My  countenaunce  is  nycete, 

And  al^aiSM^^>jie^so  I  be,    ^J^^- 

My  p/ee^";'^  pllfiln]^  and  in  werre;      615 


Alias!  how  mighte  I  fare  werre? 

'  My  boldnesse  is  turned  to  shame,    .   , 
For  fals  Fortune  hath  pleyd  a  game   ^'^ 
Atte  ches  with  me,  alias !   the  whyle  l***"*^ 
The  trayt&^esse  falstand  ful  of  gyle,     620 
That  al  bihotetn  and  no-thing  halt, 
She  goth  jUpryeht  and  yet  she  halt. 
That  bAlg;^e\fr  Kute'ahd  loketh  faire, 
The  dispitouse  deftonaire. 
That  ^corneth  many  a  creature  !  625 

An  ^ole  of  fals  portraiture 


Ku<.j),ti-r^ 


\ 


) 


Is  she,  ft  Vlhe  wil  sone  v/tyen;\uj i<  USiC 

She  is  t'e  of  d^stres  heed  y-wryen, 

As  tilth  no  nei'-strawed  with  flijures; 

Hir  moste  »rorship  and  hir  [flour  is]   630 

To  lyen,  for  that  is  hir  nature; 

Withoute  feyth,  lawe,  or  mesure 

She  is  fals;    and  ever  laughinge 

With  oon  eye,  and  that  other  wepinge. 

That  is  broght  up,  she  set  al  doun.      635 

I  lykne  hir  to  the  scorpioun, 

That  is  a  fals  flatering  heste; 

For  with  his  hede  he  maketh  feste, 

But  al  amid  his  flateringe 

With  his  tayle  he  wol  stinge,  640 

And  envenyme;   and  so  wol  she. 

She  is  tljieji\jyous  charite 

That  is'aY'fals,  and  semeth  wele, 

So  turneth  she  hir  false  whele 

Aboute,  for  it  is  no-thing  stable,  645 

Now  by  the  fyre,  now  at  table;  ,  ; 

Ful  many  oon  hath  she  thus  y-blent.pl,^\(4 

She  is  pley  of  enchauntement,  (A?ciiJ(,( 

That  semeth  oon  and  is  nat  so. 

The  false  theef !   what  hath  she  do,     650 

Trowest  thou?  by  our  lord,  I  wol  thee 

seye. 
Atte  dies  with  nie  she^an  to  pleye; 
With  hir  false  drau"^W[es  divers  .^■ 

She  stal  on  me,  and  took  my  fers.  MA^ 
And  whan  I  s»w  my  fers  aweye,       \i  655 
Alas !  I  couthe  no  lenger  pleye, 
But  seyde,  "  farwel,  swete,  y-wis. 
And  farwel  al  that  ever  ther  is !  " 
Therwith  Fortune  seyde,  "  chek  here  !  " 
And   "mate!",  in   mid    pointe   of    the 

chekkere    Do-^'...^^^  660 

With  a  poune  erraunt,  alias  ! 
Ful  craftier  to  pley  she  was 
Than  Athalus,  that  made  the  game 
First  of  the  ches;   so  was  his  name. 
But  god  wolde  I  had  ones  or  twyes     665 
Y-koud  and  knowe  the  leupardyes 
That  coude  the  Grek  Pithagores  ! 
I  shulde  have  pleyd  the  bet  at  ches, 
And  kept  my  fers  the  bet  therby; 
And  thogh  wherto?  for  trewely         '^1'^ 
I  hold  that  wish  nat  worth  a  stree  l^\  (^^^ 
Hit  had  be  never  the  bet  for  me.    .  <■> 
For  Fortune  can  so  many  a  wyle,  VJW' 
Ther  be  but  fewe  can  hir  begyle. 
And  eek  she  is  the  las  to  blame;  675 

My-self  I  wolde  have  do  the  same, 
Before  god,  hadde  I  been  as  she; 


I 


678-7S2.] 


III.     11  IK   BOOK  OF  THE    DUCIIESSE. 


87 


700 


She  oglite  the  more  excused  be. 
For  til  is  I  say  yet  more  therto, 
Iladile  I  be  goi\  ami  mighte  have  rlo 
My  wille,  whan  my  fers  she  caughte,   68 1 
1  vvolde  have  drawe  the  same  draughte. 
Eor,  also  Nffe'gCkriive  me  reste, 
I  dar  wel  swere  swe  took  the  beste  ! 

'  But    through    that    draughte    I    have 
lorn  685 

My  blisse;   alias!  that  I  was  born  ! 
For  evermore,  I  trowe  trewly, 
For  at  my  wil,  my  lust  hoolly 
Is  turned;    but  yet,  what  to  done? 
By  our  lord,  hit  is  to  deye  sone;  690 

F'or  no-thing  I  [ne]  leve  it  noght, 
But  live  and  deye  right  in  this  thught. 
Ther  nis  planete  in  firmament, 
Ne  in  air,  ne  in  erthe,  noon  element, 
That  they  ne  yive  me  a  yift  echoon     695 
Of  wejjing,  whan  I  an^/aloon/' 
For  whan  that  I  avVse  rh^  wel, 
And  bethenke  me  every-del, 
How  that  ther  lyth  in  rekening. 
In  my  sorwe,  for  no-thing; 
And  how  ther  leveth  no  gladnesse 
May  gladde  me  of  my  distresse. 
And  how  I  have  lost  suffisance,  C^  ^^ 
And  therto  I  have  no  plesance, 
Than  may  I  say,  I  have  right  noght.   705 
And  whan  al  this  falleth  in  my  thoght, 
Alias  !   than  am  I  overcome  ! 
For  that  is  doon  is  not  to  come  ! 
I  have  more  sorowe  than  Tantale.' 

And  whan  1  herde  him  telle  this  tale 
Thus  pitously,  as  I  yow  telle,  71 1 

CTimethe  mighte  I  lenger  dwelle,i^>'JL^t  ^ 
I  lit  dide  myn  herte  so  moche  wo. 

'  A  !  good  sir  ! '  quod  I,  '  say  not  so  ! 
Have  som  pite  on  your  nature  715 

That  formed  yow  to  creature. 
Remembre  yow  of  Socrates; 
For  he  ne  counted  nat  three  strees 
Of  noght  that  Fortune  coude  do.' 

'  No,'  quod  he,  '  I  can  not  so.'  720 

'Why  St)?  good  sir  I   parde  ! '  cmod  I;  1 
'  Ne  say  noght  so,  for  trewely,"^.)  piS.^  i/l  .1^ 
Thogh  ye  had  lost  the  fersesjiwelve. 
And  ye  for  sorwe  mordred  your-selv;. 
Ye  shijlde  be  dampned  in  this  cas        725 
By  as  good  right  as  Medea  was, 
That  slow  hir  children  for  lason; 
And  Phyllis  als  for  Demophon 
Heng  hir-self,  so  weylaway ! 


V'^' 


For  he  had  broke  his  terme-day  Q  {?  f50"t.»\. \<i^l    cA 

To  come  to  hir.     Another  rage         *  ' 

Had  Dydo,  quene  eek  of  Cartage, 

That  slow  hir-self,  for  Eneas 

Was  fals;    [a!]  whiche  a  fool  she  was! 

And  Ecquo  dyed  for  Narcisus  735 

Nolde  nat  love  hir;    and  right  thus 

Hath  many  another  foly  don. 

And  for  Dalida  dyed  Sampson, 

That  slow  him-self  «ith  a  pilere. 

But  ther  is  [not)nJ  a-lyve  here  740  n. 

Wolde  for  a  fers  make  this  wo  ! '    y   (is^tciv.    ■ 

'  Why  so?'  cjuod  he;   'hit  is  nafso; 
Thou  wost  ful  litel  what  thim  menesti  0        1  V- 

I  have  lost  more  than  thou  wenest.'  TV-vvvN^  **»  1 
'  Lo,  [sir,]  how  may  that  be?'  quod  I; 
'  Good  sir,  tel  me  al  hoolly  746 

In  what  wyse,  how,  why,  and  wherefore 
That  ye  have  thus  your  blisse  lore.' 

'  Blythly,'  quod  he,  '  com  sit  adoun; 
I  telle  thee  up  condicioun  750 

That  tbpu  hyoll)-,  with  al  thy  w  it, 
Do  thydi  feftfenrW'lflrkene  hit.' 
'  Yis,  sir.'     ""Swere  thy  tr.outhe  ther-to.' 
^Gladly.'     '  Do  than  holde  her-to  !  ' 
'  I  shal  right  blythly,  so  god  me  save,  755 
Hoolly,  with  al  the  witte  I  have. 
Here  yow,  as  wel  as  I  can.' 

'  A  goddes  half!  '  quod  he,  and  began  : 
'Sir,'  quod  he,  'sith  hrst  I  couthe 
Have  any  maner  wit  fro  youthe,  760 

Or  kyndely  understonding 
To  comprehende,  in  any  thing, 
\\LUat  love  \^s,  in  myn  owne  wit, 
DVeif^ekfT  Rave  ever  yit 
Be  tributary,  and  yiven  rente  765 

To  love  hoolly  with  goode  entente,  ,— 

And  through  plesaunce  become  his  thral,'>?iWt'-i>-V 
With  good  wil,  body,  herte,  and  al. 
Al  this  I  putte  in  his  servage. 
As  to  my  lorde,  and  dide  homage;       770 
And  ful  devoutly  prayde  him  to, 
He  shulde  besette  myn  herte  so, 
That  it  plesaunce  to  him  were, 
And  worship  to  my  lady  dere. 

'  /Vnd  this  was  longe,  and  many  a  yeer 
Or  that  myn  herte  was  set  o-wher,       776     . 
That  I  did  thus,  and  niste  w'hy; 
I  trqwe  hit  cam  me  kindely. 
Park'untelnE  was  therto  most  able 
As  a  whyt  wal  or  a  table;  7S0 

For  hit  is  redy  to  cacche  and  take 
Al  that  men  wil  therin  make, 


88 


THE   MINOR   rOEMS. 


[7S3-«SS. 


■p"' 


Wher-so  men  wol  portreye  or  peynte, 
Be  the  werkes  never  so  queynte. 

'  And  thilke  tyme  1  ferde  so  785 

I  was  able  to  have  lerned  tho, 
And  to  have  coud  as  vvel  or  better, 
I'araunter,  other  art  or  letter. 
iJut  fur  love  cam  first  in  my  thought, 
Therfore  I  forgat  it  nought.  790 

I  chees  love  to  my  firste  craft, 
Therfor  hit  is  with  me  [y]-laft. 
Forwhy  I  took  hit  of  so  yong  age. 
That  malice  hadde  my  corage 
Nat  that  tyme  turned  to  no-thing        795 
Through  to  mochel  knowleching. 
For  that  tyme  youthe,  my  maistresse, 
Governed  me  in  ydelnesse; 
F'or  hit  was  in  my  tirste  youthe, 
And  tho  ful  litel  good  I  couthe;  ^,\*-vSdo 
For  al  my  werkes  were  flittinge,  f  i<if.>»-V 
And  al  my  thoghtes  varyinge;    ^'v^^J 
Al  were  to  me  y-liche  g'Jodj_j^  J\^\},_;^    \ 
That  I  knew  tho;    but  thus  hit  stood. 

'  Hit  happed  that  I  cam  on  a  day    805 
Into  a  place,  ther  I  say, 
Trevvly,  the  fayrest  companye  ^<i^ 

Of  ladies,  that  ever  man  with  ye.  „  .,v;    y^ 
Had  seen  togedres  in  00  place.  ysJ^^V-"*" 
Shal  I  clepe  hit  hap  other  gra^e  810 

That  broghte  me  thef?  nay,  but  Fortune.- 
That  is  to  lyen  ful  comune,i\ciUJili7'^£  v 
The  false  trayteresse,  pervers, 
God  wolde  I  coude^qfepe  hir  wers ! 
P"or  now  she  v^orCTTetn  me  ful  wo,       815 
And  I  wol  telle  sone  why  so. 

'Among  thise  ladies  thus  echoon, 
Soth  to  seyn,  I  saw  [ther]  oon 
That  was  lyk  noon  of  [al]  the  route; 
For  I  dar  swere,  withoute  doute,  820 

That  as  the  someres  sonne  bright 
Is  fairer,  clerer,  and  hath  more  light 
Than  any  planete,  [is]  in  heven, 
The  mone,  or  the  sterres  seven, 
For  al  the  worlde,  so  had  she  825 

Surmounted  hem  alle  of  beaute, 
Of  nianer  and  of  comlinesse, 
Of  stature  and  wel  set  gladnesse,     '  }'(J' 
Of  g-«jodlihede  so  wel  beseye — k^j'^^     Vr^ 
Shortly,  what  shal  I  moFCfieye?  830 

By  god,  and  by  his  naHfes  twelve. 
It  was  my  swete,  right  as  hir-selve ! 
She  had  so  stedfast  countenaunce, 
•So  noble  port  and  meyntenaunce. 
And  Love,  that  had  herd  my  bone,     835 


pil^ 


Had  espyed  me  thus  sone. 
That  she  ful  sone,  in  my  thoght, 
As  helpe  me  god,  so  was  y-caught 
So  S(jdenly,  that  I  ne  took 
No  maner  [reed]  Ijut  at  hir  look  840 

And  at  myn  herte;    for-why  hir  eyen 
So  gladly,  I  trow,  myn  herte  seyen, 
That  purely  tho  myn  owne  thoght 
Seyde  hit  were  [bet]  serve  hir  for  noght 
Than  with  another  to  be  wel.  845 

And  hit  was  sooth,  for,  everydel, 
I  wil  anoon-right  telle  thee  why. 

'  I  saw  hir  daunce  so  comlily, 
Carole  and  singe  so  swetely, 
Laughe  and  pleye  so  womanly,  850 

And  loke  so  debonairly, 
So  goodly  speke  and  so  frendly. 
That  certes,  I  trow,  that  evermore 
Nas  seyn  so  blisful  a  tresore. 
For  every  hecr  [up]on  hir  hede,         855 
Soth  to  seyn,  hit  was  not  rede, 
Ne  nouther  yelw,  ne  broun  hit  nas; 
Me  thoghte,  most  lyk  gold  hit  was. 
And  whiche  eyen  my  lady  hadde  ! 
Debonair,  goode,  glade,  and  sadde,     860 
Simple,  of  good  mochel,  noght  to  wyde; 
Thereto, hip) look  nas  not  a-syde, 
Ne  ovSi^w^r^  but  beset  so  wel, 
Hit  drew  aniitook  up,  everydel, 
Alle  that  on  hir  gan  beholde.  865 

Hir  eyen  semed  anoon  she  wolde 
Have  mercy;    fooles  wenden  so; 
But  hit  was  never  the  rather  do. 
Hit  nas  no  countrefeted  thing. 
It  was  hir  owne  pure  loking,  870 

That  the  goddesse,  dame  Nature, 
Had  made  hem  opene  by  mesure. 
And  close ;    for,  were  she  never  so  glad, 
Hir  loking  was  not  foly  sprad, 
Ne  wildely,  thogh  that  she  pleyde;    875 
But  ever,  me  thoghte,  hir  eyen  seyde, 
"  By  god,  my  wratKe  is  al  for-yive  !  " 

'  Therwith  hir  nSI?  so'"wel  to  live, 
That  dulnesse  was  of  hir  a-drad.  „Xf-^i  (,W 
.She  nas  to  sobre  ne  to  glad;         T     8S0 
,In  alle  thinges  more  mesure 
Had  never,  I  trowe,  creature. 
But  many  oon  with  hir  loke  she  herte, 
And  that  sat  hir  ful  lyte  at  herte. 
For  she  knew  no-thing  of  hir  thoght;  885 
But  whether  she  knew  or  knew  hit  noght, 
Algate  she  ne  roght^f  hem  a  stree  ! 
To  gete  hir  love  no  ner  nas  he 

1?    I-- 


SSy-9y3.j 


^ 


.^ 


III.     THE   lUJOK   OK  THK   DUCHESSE. 


^' 


n" 


^ 


That  woi^ed  at  home,  than  he  in  Inde; 
The  formcst  was  aKvay  Ijchinde.  890 

liut  goode  folk,  over  al  other, 
Slie  loved  as  man  may  do  his  brother; 
( )f  whichc  love  she  was  wonder  large, 
In  skilful  places  that  here  charge. 

'  Which  a  visage  had  she  ther-to  !   895 
Alias !   myn  herte  is  wonder  wo 
That  I  ne  can  discryv.en  hit! 
Me  lakketh  bothe  English  and  wit 
For  to  unilo  hit  at  the  fuUe; 
And  eek  my  sjjirits  be  so  dulle       ,     900 
So  greet  a  thing  for  to  den;vsc.ti^A 
I  have  no  wit  that  can  suffyse 
To  coniprehenden  hir  beaute; 
But  thus  moche  dar  I  seyn,  that  she 
Was  rody,  fresh,  and  lyvely  hewed;    905 
And  evervyJay  hir  beaute  newed. 
And  n'egn  hir  face  was  alder-besti 
For  certes.  Nature  had  sWc^rest  ^ 
To  make  that  fair,  that  trewly  she 
Was  hir  cheef  patron  of  beautee,         910 
And  cheef  ensample  of  al  hir  werke. 
And  moustre;    for,  be  hit  never  so  derke, 
Me  thinketh  I  see  hir  ever-mo. 
And  yet  more-over,  thogh  alle  the 
That  ever  lived  were  now  a-lyve,         915 
[They]   ne  sholde  have  founde  to  dis- 

cryve 
In  al  hir  face  a  wikked  signe; 
For  hit  was  sad,  simple,  and  benigne. 

'And  which  a  goodly  softe  speche_  rJ^'' 
Had  that  swete,  my  lyves  leche  !  |V>m-'^20 
So  frendly,  and  so  wel  y-grounded,^ 
Up  al  resoun  so  wel  y-founded,  ^ 
And  so  tretahle  to  alle  gode,  j-t  ■" 
That  I  dar  swere  by  the  rode,' 
Of  eloquence  was  never  founde  .>  925 
.So  swete  a  sowninge  facounde,  JAj3[i.^*u%A-J - 
Ne  trewer  tonged,  ne  scorned  lasse,^ 
Ne  bet  eoude  hele;  that,  by  the  masse 
I  durste  swere,  thogh  the  pope  hit  songe, 
That  ther  was  never  through  hir  tonge 
Man  ne  woman  gretly  harmed;  931 

As  for  hir,  [ther]  was  al  harm  hid; 
Ne  lasse  llatering  in  hir  worde, 
Tiiat  purely,  hir  simple  recorde 
Was  founde  as  trevve  as  any  bonde,    935 
Or  trouthe  of  any  mannes  honde. 
Ne  chydc  she  coude  never  a  del. 
That  knoweth  al  the  world  ful  wel. 

'  Hut  swich  a  fairnesse  of  a  nekke 
Had  that  swete,  that  boon  nor  brekke 


7^ 


-O 


\ 


Nas  ther  non  sene,  that  mis-sat.        ^941 

Hit  was  whyt,  smothe,  streght,  and  flat,, 

Withouten  hole;   [and]  canel-boon,CA. 

As  by  seming,  had  she  noon. 

Hir  throte,  as  I  have  now  memoirc,    945 

.Semed  a  round  tour  of  yvoire. 

Of  good  gretnessc,  and  noght  to  grate. 

'  Antl  gode  faire  Wiivte  she  hete, 
That  was  my  lady  name  right. 
She  was  bothe  fair  and  bright,  950 

She  hadile  not  hir  name  wrong. 
Right  faire  shuldres,  and  body  long        \ 
She  hadde,  and  amies,  every  lith  Jc-iy.  iP 
Fattish,  tlesshy,  not  greet  therwith; 
Right  whyte  handes,  antl  nayles  rede, 
Rounde  brestes;   and  of  good  brede    956 
Hir  hippes  were,  apf^f^ight  ilat  bak. 
I  knew  on  hir  non  01   ]gj  „,^g 
That  al  hir  limmes  nt  -"eth  so  ^' 

In  as  fer  as  I  had  knowi^j^^  ^^y^^  960 

'  Therto  she  C(jude  so  ^(^jg 
Whan  that  hir  liste,  that   (-y  glade^» 
That  she  was  lyk  to  torcl  alther-fir.  • 
That  every  man  may  talcgj-^  ^\■^Q  H 
Ynogh,  and  hit  hath  (ifj^yj,  c,.^  lesse.  965 

'  Of  maner  and  of  couilmesse 
Right  so  ferde  my  lady  dere; 
For  every  wight  of  hir  manere 
Might  cacche  ynogh,  if  that  he  wolde, 
If  he  had  eyen  hir  to  beholde.  970 

P"or  I  dar  sweren,  if  that  she 
Had  among  ten  thousand  be. 
She  wolde  have  be,  at  the  leste, 
A  cheef  mirour  of  al  the  feste, 
Thoght'hey  had  stonden  in  a  rowe,    975 
To  mennes  eyen  that  coude  have  knowe. 
For  wher-so  men  had  pleyd  or  waked, 
Me  thoghte  the  felawship  as  naked 
Withouten  hir,  that  saw  I  ones, 
As  a  coroune  withoute  stones.  980 

Trewely.she  was,  to  myn  ye, 
The  ^Icyi^f^nix  of  Arabye, 
For  ther  liveth  never  but  oon; 
Ne  swich  as  she  ne  knew  I  noon. 

'To  speke  of  goodnesse;    trewly  she 
Had  as  moche  debonairte  986 

As  ever  had  Hester  in  the  bible, 
And  more,  if  more  were  possible. 
And,  soth  to  seyne,  therwith-al 
She  had  a  wit  so  general,  990 

So  hool  enclyned  to  alle  gode. 
That  al  hir  wit  was  set,  by  the  rode, 
Withoute  malice,  upon  gladnesse; 


o-n- 


y 


90 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[994-1098. 


Therto  I  saw  never  yet  a  lesse 
Harmful,  than  she  was  in  doing.         995 
1  sey  nat  that  she  ne  had  knowing 
What  was  harm;    or  elles  she 
Had  coud  no  good,  so  thinketh  me. 

'  And  trewly,  for  to  speke  of  trouthe. 
But  she  liad  had,  hit  had  he  routhe.  loop 
Theiof  she  had  so  nioche  hir  del — '^^    jL 
And  I  dar  seyn  and  swere  hit  wel — (-*-''^'\' 
That  Trouthe  him-self,  over  al  and  al. 
Had  chose  his  maner  principal 
In  hir,  that  was  his  resting-place.       1005 
Thcr-to  she  hadtle  the  moste  grace, 
To  have  stedfast  perseveraunce, 
And  esy,  atempre  governaunce, 
That  ever  I  knew  or  wiste  yit; 
So  pure  suffraunt  -■"^Lei^ir  vvit.  loio 

And  re"Ui  litel  gocfie  understood, 
Hit  folbV  werkes  jy/e  coude  good. 
She  usf'iy  thoghfto  do  wel; 
These    t"-*  "i^  y-'naners  every-del. 

'  Thtnew  tho;  loved  so  wel  right,  1015 
She  wi'iapped  tb^lde  to  no  wight; 
No  wight^c,  ther  ^o  hir  no  shame, 
She  loved  so  I'^cst  co.qwne  name. 
Hir  luste  to  holde  no  wiglit^in  horule; 
Ne,  be  thou  siker,  she  tracTe'VohHe    1020 
To  holde  no  wight  in  lialaunce,   "j^'"*, 
By  half  word  ne  by  countenaunep,     ' 
But-if  men  wolde  upon  hir  lye;   -^iAi\c<'ilmr 
Ne  sende  men  in-to  Walakye, 
To  I'ruyse  and  in-to  Tartarye,  1025 

To  Alisaundre,  ne  in-to  Turkye, 
An  Indde  him  faste,  anoon  that  he 
Go  hoodies  to  the  drye  see, 
And  come  hoom  by  the  Carrenare; 
And  seye,  "  Sir,  be  now  right  ware    1030 
That  I  may  of  yow  here  seyn 
Worship,  or  that  ye  come  ageyn  !  " 
She  ne  used  no  suche  knakkes  smale. 

'  I>at  wherfor  that  I  ielle  my  tale? 
Right  on  this  same,  as  I  have  seyd,  1035 
Was  hoolly  al  my  love  leyd; 
For  certes,  sli£  .was,  that  swete  wyf. 
My  suffisafiiVbe,  myTust,  my  lyf, 
Myn  hap,  myn  hele,  and  al  my  blisse. 
My  worides  welfare  and  my  [lissel,  1040 
And  I  hirs  hoolly,  everydel.'       T^v*^*^ 

'  By  our   lord,'   quod  I,  '  I  trowe  yow  . 
wel!  ^  _  C^ 

Hardely,  your  love  was  wel  besetj-**»  " 
I  not  how  ye  mighte  have  do  bet.'     1044 
'  Bet?  ne  no  wight  so  wel ! '  quod  he. 


'  I  trowe  hit,  sir,'  fjuod  I,  '  parde ! ' 
'  Nay,  leve  hit  wel !  '     '  Sir,  so  do  I ; 
I  leve  yow  wel,  that  trewcly 
Yow  thoghte,  that  she  was  the  beste. 
And  to  beholde  the  alderfaireste,       1050 
Who  so  had  loked  with  your  eyen.' 
.J, 'With  myn?  nay,  alle  that  hir  seyen 
j^'Seyde,  and  sworen  hit  was  so. 

And  thogh  they  ne  hadde,  I  wolde  tho 
Have  loved  best  my  lady  fre,  '^SS 

Thogh  I  had  had  al  the  beautee 
That  ever  had  Alcipyades, 
And  al  the  strengthe  of  Ercules, 
And  therto  had  the  worthinesse 
Of  Alisaundre,  and  al  the  richesse     1060 
That  ever  was  in  Babiloyne, 
In  Cartage,  or  in  Macedoyne, 
Or  in  Rome,  or  in  Ninive; 
And  therto  al-so  hardy  be 
As  was  Ector,  so  have  I  loye,  1065 

That  Achilles  slow  at  Troye  — 
And  therfor  was  he  slayn  also 
In  a  temple,  for  bothe  two 
Were  slayn,  he  and  Antilogus, 
And  so  seyth  Dares  Frigius,  107a 

For  love  of  [hir]  Polixena —  1 

Or  ben  as  wys  as  Minerva,  "sCi^f  ■ 

I  wolde  ever,  withoute  drede,  vy^    f\^\ 

Have  loved  hir,  for  I  moste  ne<:!€T  1 

■/"  Nede  !  "  nay,  I  gal^be  now,  I075 

'  Noght  "nede,"  and  I  wol  telle  how. 
For  of  good  vville  myn  herte  hit  wolde, 
And  eek  to  love  hir  I  was  holde  J?  ■,r.^,;_  \\^(S 
As  for  the  fairest  and  the  beste. 

*  She  was  as  good,  so  have  I  reste. 
As  ever  was  Penelope  of  Grece,  1081 

Or  as  the  noble  wyf  Lucrece, 
That  was  the  beste  —  he  telleth  thus, 
The  Remain  Tytus  Livius  — 
She  was  as  good,  and  no-thing  lyke, 

7v!?°i]iJ?''' l^^'^^  ^^  autentyke;         1086 
Afgaieahfe  was  as  trewe  as  she. 
'  But  wherfor  that  I  telle  thee 
Whan  I  first  my  lady  sey?  1089 

I  was  right  yong,  [the]  sooth  to  sey, 
And  ful  gret  need  I  hadde  to  lerne; 
Whan  my  herte  wolde  yerne 
To  love,  it  was  a  greet  empryse. 
But  as  my  wit  coude  best  suffyse, 
^  After  myyonge  childly  wit,  1095 

Withoute  drede,  I  besette  hit 
To  love  hir  in  my  beste  wyse, 
To  do  hir  worship  and  servyse 


I 099-1203.] 


III.      IHE   BOOK   OF  THE   DUCHESSE. 


91 


^' 


e 


That  I  tho  coiule,  by  my  trotithe, 

VVithoiite  feyniiig  outher  slouthe;      iioo 

For  wonder  fayii  I  wolde  liir  s-.-e. 

So  mochel  liit  ainended  me, 

That,  whan  I  saw  hir  first  a-niorwe, 

I  \\as  warislied  of  al  my  st)rwe 

(Jf  al  day  after,  til  hit  were  eve;  1 105 

Me  thoghte  no-thing  mighte  me  grave, 

Were  my  sorwes  never  so  smerte. 

And  yit  she  sit  so  in  myn  herte, 

That,  by  my  trouthe,  I  nolde  noght. 

Fur  al  this  worlde,  out  of  my  thoght  IIIO 

Leve  my  lady ;    no,  trewly  !  ' 

'  Now,  by  my  trouthe,  sir,'  quod  I, 
yLMe  thinketh  ye  have  such  a  chaunce 
As  ^hrift  withoute  repentaunce.' 

''Repentaunce  !  nay  fy,' quod  he;   II15 
'Shulde  I  now  repente  me 
To  love?  nay,  certes,  than  were  I  wel 
Wers  than  was  Achitofel, 
Or  Anthenor,  so  have  I  loye. 
The  traytour  that  betraysed  Troye,    1 120 
Or  the  false  Gcnelon, 
He  that  purchased  the  treson 
Of  Rowland  and  of  Olivere. 
Nay,  whyl  I  am  a-lyve  here 
I  nil  foryete  hir  never-nio.'  I125 

'Now,  gobde  sir,'  quod  I  [right]  tho, 
'Ye  han  wel  told  me  her-before. 
It  is  no  need  reherse  hit  more 
How  ye  sav.e  hir  first,  and  where; 
But  wolde  ye  telle  me  the  manere,     1 130 
To  hir  which  was  your  firste  speche  — 
Therof  I  wolde  yow  be-seche  — 
And  how  she  knewe  first  your  thoght, 
Whether  ye  loved  hir  or  noght, 
And  telleth  me  eek  what  ye  have  lore; 
I  herde  yow  telle  her-before.'  1 136 

'Ye,'  seyde  he,  'thou  nost  what  thou 
menest; 
I  have  lost  more  than  thou  wenest.' 

'What  los  is  that,  [sir]?  '  quod  I  tho; 
'Nil  she  not  love  yow?  is  hit  so?      1140 
Or  have  ye  oght  [y-]doon  amis. 
That  she  hath  left  yow?  is  hit  this? 
For  goddes  love,  tel  me  al.' 

'  liefore  god,'  quod  he,  '  and  I  shal. 
I  save  right  as  I  have  seyd,  1145 

On  hir  was  al  my  love  leyd; 
And  yet  she  niste  hit  never  a  del 
Noght  longe  tyme,  leve  hit  wel. 
For  be  right  siker,  I  durste  noght      1149 
For  al  this  worlde  telle  hir  my  thoght, 


k 


Ne  I  wolde  have  wratthed  hir,  trewly. 

For  wostow  why?  she  was  lady 

Of  the  body;   she  had  the  herte, 

And  who  hath  that,  may  not  asterte.<?  '-^'^  1^^ 


1 170 


'  But,  for  to  kepe  me  fro  ydelnesse,  * 

Trewly  I  tlid  my  besinesse  1156 

To  make  songes,  as  I  liest  coude, 
And  ofte  tymc  I  song  hem  loude; 
And  made  songes  a  gret  del, 
Al-thogh  I  coude  not  make  so  wel     1 160 
Songes,  ne  knovve  the  art  al, 
As  coude  Lamekes  sone  Tubal, 
That  fond  out  first  the  art  of  songe; 
hor,  as  his  brothers  hamers  ronge 
Upon  his  anvelt  up  and  doun,  1165 

Therof  he  took  the  firste  soun; 
But  Grekes  seyn,  Pictagoras, 
That  he  the  firste  finder  was 
Of  the  art;    Auroja.jJ:eJleth  so. 
But  therof  no  idrs,  or  hem  two. 
Algates  songes  thus  1  made 
Of  my  feling,  myn  herte  to  glade;        0  1      O 

And  lo  !   this  was  [the]  alther-firste,  V"  ^^      '^ok? 
I  not  \\^^"[^that]  hit  were  the  werste. —        O-J'-^''^ 
^"  Lord,  hit  maketh  myn  herte  light, 
Whan  I  thenke  on  that  swete  wight  1 1 76 

That  is  so  semely  on  to  see; 

And  wisshe  to  god  hit  might  so  be, 
That  she  wolde  holde  me  for  hir  knight. 
My  lady,  that  is  so  fair  and  bright !  "  — 

'  Now  have  I  told  thee,  sooth  to  saye, 
My  firste  song.     Upon  a  daye 
I  bethoghte  me  what  wo 
And  sorwe  that  I  suffred  tho 
P'or  hir,  and  yet  she  wiste  hit  noght,  1 185 
Ne  telle  hir  durste  I  nat  my  thoght.  ^ 

"Alias!  "  thoghte  I,  "  T  can  r<njrppc\-   dCV^*^'**^' 
And,  but  I  telle  hirQ  nam  butj'      ^"*^    -^  1/  -^     .1 
And  if  I  telle  hir,  to  seye  sooth, 
I  am  a-dred  she  wol  be  wrooth; 
Alias  !  what  shal  I  thanne  do?  ' 

'  In  this  debat  I  was  so  wo, 
Me  thoghte  myn  herte  braste  a-tweyn 
So  atte  laste,  soth  to  seyn,  ■■ 
I  me  bethoghte  that  nature 
Ne  formed  never  in  creature 
So  moche  beaute,  trewely. 
And  bounte,  withouten  mercy. 

'  In  hope  of  that,  my  tale  I  tolde 
With  sorwe,  as  that  I  never  sholde. 
For  nedes;   and,  maugree  my  heed, 
I  moste  have  told  hir  or  be  deed. 
I  not  wel  how  that  I  began, 


iigo 


1195 


92 


^ 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[I204-I3o8^ 


Ful  evel  rehersen  hit  I  can; 

And  eek,  as  helpe  me  god  with-al,    1205 

I  trowe  hit  was  in  the  dismal, 

That  was  the  ten  wcjundes  of  Egipte; 

For  many  a  word  I  over-sl<ipte 

In  my  tale,  for  pure  fere 

Lest  my  wordes  mis-set  were.  1210 

With  sorweful  herte,  and  woundes  dede, 

Sufte  and  quaking  for  Pure  drede 

And  shame,  and  stmft^i^'i'iHiiy  tale 

For  ferde,  and  myn  hewe  arpale, 

Ful  ofte  I  wex  bothe  pale  and  reed;   1 215 

Uowing  to  hir,  I  heng  the  heed; 

I  durste  nat  ones  loke  hir  on. 

For  wit,  manere,  and  al  was  gon. 

I  seyde  "  mercy  !  "  and  no  more; 

Hit  nas  no  game,  hit  sat  me  sore.      1220 

'  So  atte  laste,  sooth  to  seyn, 
Whan  that  myn  herte  was  come  ageyn, 
To  telle  shortly  al  my  speche, 
With  hool  herte  I  gan  hir  beseche 
That  she  wolde  be  my  lady  swete;     1225 
And  swor,  and  gan  hir  hertely  hetejYOdu^- 
Ever  to  be  stedfast  and  trewe,  I 

And  love  hir  alwey  freshly  newe, 
And  never  other  lady  have, 
And  al  hir  worship  for  to  save  1230 

As  I  best  coude;    I  swor  hir  this  — 
"  P"or  youres  is  al  that  ever  ther  is 
For  evermore,  myn  herte  swete  ! 
And  never  false  yow,  but  1  mete, 
I  nil,  as  wis  god  helpe  me  so !  "         1235 

'  And  whan  I  had  my  tale  y-do, 
God  wot,  she  acounted  nat  a  stree 
Of  al  my  tale,  so  thoghte  me. 
To  telle  shortly  as  hit  is, 
Trewly  hir  answere,  hit  was  this;       1240 
I  can  not  now  wel  counterfete 
Hir  wordes,  but  this  was  the  grete 
Of  hir  answere;   she  sayde,  "  nay  " 
Al-outerly.     Alias !  that  day 
The  sorwe  I  suffred,  and  the  wo!       1245 
That  trewly  Cassandra,  that  so 
Bevvayled  therdestruccioun 
Of  Troye  and  of  Ilioun,  A/    ,— 

Had  never  swich  sorwe  as  I  the. 
I  durste  no  more  say  therto  1250 

For  pure  fere,  but  stal  away; 
And  thus  I  lived  ful  many  a  day : 
That  trewely,  I  hadde  no  need 
Ferther  than  my  beddes  heed 
Never  a  day  to  seche  sorwe;  1255 

I  fond  hit  redy  every  morwe, 


'^^'      1 


1270 


1275 


For-why  I  loved  hir  in  no  gere, 

'  So  hit  befel,  another  yere, 
I  thoughte  ones  I  wulde  fonde^^ 
To  do  hir  knowe  and  understonde     1 260 
My  wo;    agd  she  wel  understood 
That  I  ne'^lVi'^t 'thing  but  good, 
And  worship,  ami  to  kcpe  hir  name 
Over  al  thing,  and  drede  hir  shame, 
And  was  so  besy  hir  to  serve;  —       1265 
And  pile  were  I  shulde  stervg,  i^tu  r'H 
Sith  that  I  wilned  noon  harrn/y-wis, 
So  whan  my  lady  knew  al  this, 
My  lady  yaf  me  al  hooUy 
The  noble  yift  of  hir  mercy. 
Saving  hir  worship,  by  al  weyes; 
Dredles,  I  mene  noon  other  weyes 
And  tiierwith  she  yaf  me  a  ring; 
I  trowe  hit  w:as  the  firste  thing; 
But  if  myn  herte  was  y-waxe 
Glad,  that  is  no  need  to  axe ! 
As  hek)e,'me  god,  I  was  as  blyve, 
R^'ysea^as  fro  deUielp^yve, 
Of  alle  napp''eV  tiie  aloer-beste, 
The  gladdest  and  the  moste  at  reste.  1280 
For  trewely,  that  swete  wight, 
Whan  I  had  wrong  and  she  the  right, 
She  wolde  alwey  so  goodely 
For-yeve  me  so  debonairly. 
In  alle  my  youthe,  in  alle  chaunce,    1285 
She  took  me  in  hir  governaunce. 

'Therwith  she  was  alway  so  trewe, 
Our  loye  was  ever  y-liche  newe; 
Our  hertes  wern  so  even  a  payre. 
That  never  nas  that  oon  contrayre     1290 
To  that  other,  for  no  wo. 
For  sothe,  y-liche  they  suffred  tho 

00  blisse  and  eek  00  sorwe  bothe; 
Y-liche    they   were    bothe    gladde    and 

wrothe; 
Al  was  us  oon,  withoute  were.  1295 

And  thus  we  lived  ful  many  a  yere 
So  wel,  I  can  nat  telle  how.' 

'  Sir,'  quod  I,  '  wher  is  she  now?  ' 
'  Now  ! '  quod  he,  and  stinte  anoon.  1299 

Therwith  he  wex  as  deed  as  stoon, 
And  seyde,  '  alias  !  that  I  was  bore  ! 
That  was  the  los,  that  her- before 

1  tolde  thee,  that  I  had  lorn. 

Bethenk  how  I  seyde  her-beforn,       1304 
"  Thou  wost  ful  litel  what  thou  menest; 
I  have  lost  more  than  thou  wenest "  — 
God  wot,  alias  !   right  that  was  she  ! ' 
'Alias!  sir,  how?  what  may  that  be?' 


1309-1334-    I-37-]     I\'-     THE  COMPLt:VNT  OF  MARS. 


93 


'  She   is    deed  ! '    '  Nay  !  '    '  Yis,   by   my 

trouthe ! '  '309 

'  Is  that  your  los?  by  god,  hit  is  routhi; !  ' 

And  with  that  worde,  right  anoon, 
They  gan  to  strake  forth;    al  was  doon, 
For  that  tymc,  the  hcrt-hunting. 

With  that,  me  thoghte,  that  this  king 
Gan  [c|uikly]  hoomward  for  to  ryde  1315 
Unto  a  place  ther  besyde,  -j   ,   l^ 

Which  was  from  us  liut  a  lyte^/U.  •  ''^^ 
A  long  castcl  with  walles  whyte, 
By  scynt  lohan  !   on  a  riche  hil. 
As  me  mette;    but  thus  it  fil.  1320 

Right  thus  me  mette,  as  I  yow  telle, 

Explicit  the  Boke 


That  in  the  castel  was  a  belle, 

As  hit  had  smiten  houres  twelve.  — 

'Pherwith  I  awook  my-selve. 
And  fond  me  lying  in  my  bed;  ^3^5 

And  the  book  that  I  had  red. 
Of  Alcyone  and  Seys  the  king, 
And  of  the  goddes  of  sleping, 
I  fond  it  in  myn  honde  ful  even. 

Thoghte  I, '  this  is  so  queynt  a  sweven. 
That  1  wol,  by  processe  of  tyme,        1331 
Fonde  to  putte  this  sweven  in  ryrae 
As  1  can  best '  ;   and  that  anoon. — 
This  was  my  sweven;   now  hit  is  doon. 
of  the  Duchesse. 


IV.    THE  COMPLEYNT  OF   MARS. 


The  Proem. 

'  Gladeth,  ye  foules,  of  the  morovv  gray, 
Lo  !  Venus  risen  among  yon  rowes  rede  ! 
And   floures  fresshe,   honoureth  ye  this 

day; 
For  when  the  sonne  uprist,  then  wol  ye 

sprede. 
But  ye  lovers,  that  lye  in  any  drede,        5 
Fleeth,  lest  wikked  tonges  yow  espye; 
Lo !  yond  the  sonne,  the  candel  of  lel- 

osye ! 

With  teres  blewe,  and  with  a  wounded 

herte 
Taketh  your  leve;   and,  with  seynt  lohn 

to  borow, 
Apeseth     somwhat     of     your     sorowes 

smerte,  10 

Tyme  cometh  eft,   that   cese  shal   your 

sorow ; 
The     glade    night    is    worth    an    hevy 

morow  !  '  — 
(Seynt  Valentyne !    a  foul  thus  herde  I 

singe 
Upon     thy     day,     er     sonne    gan     up- 

springe). — 

Yet  sang  this  foul  —  *  I  rede  yow  al 
a- wake,  15 

And  ye,  that  han  not  chosen  in  humble 
wyse, 


Without    repenting    cheseth    yow    your 

make. 
And  ye,  that  han  ful  chosen  as  I  devyse. 
Yet  at  the  leste  renoveleth  your  servyse : 
Confermeth  it  perpetuely  to  dure,  20 

And  paciently  taketh  your  aventure. 

And  for  the  worship  of  this  hye  feste, 
Yet  wol  I,  in  my  briddes  wyse,  singe 
The  sentence  of  the   compleynt,  at  the 

leste,  24 

That  woful  Mars  made  atte  departinge 
Fro  fresshe  Venus  in  a  morweninge. 
Whan    Phebus,    with    his    fyry   torches 

rede, 
Ransaked  every  lover  in  his  drede. 

The  Story. 

^  Whylom    the    thridde    hevenes    lord 

above. 
As  wel  by  hevenish  revolucion  30 

As  by  desert,  hath  wonne  Venus  his  love, 
And  she  hath  take  him  in  subieccioun, 
And  as  a  maistresse  taught  him  his  les- 

soun, 
Comaunding    him     that    never,    in    hir 

servyse, 
He  nere  so  bold  no  lover  to  despyse.    35 

For  she  forbad  him  lelosye  at  alle. 
And  cruelte,  and  best,  and  tirannye; 


94 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[38-105. 


She  made  him  al  hir  lust  so  humble  and 

talle, 
That  when  hir  deyned  caste  on  him  her  ye, 
He  took  in  pacience  to  live  or  dye;      40 
And    thus    she    brydeleth    him    in    hir 

manere, 
With  no-thing  but  with  scourging  of  hir 

chere. 

Who  regneth  now  in  blisse  but  Venus, 
That  hath  this  worthy  knight  in  gover- 

naunce? 
Who  singeth  now  but  Mars,  that  serveth 

thus  45 

The  faire  Venus,  causer  of  plesaunce? 
He  bynt  him  to  perpetual  obeisaunce, 
And  she  bynt  hir  to  lovcn  him  for  ever, 
But  so  be  that  his  trespas  hit  dissever. 

Thus   be   they  knit,   and    regnen   as  in 

heven  50 

By  loking  most;    til  hit  fil,  on  a  tyde. 
That    by   hir    bothe    assent    was    set    a 

Steven, 
That  Mars  shal  entre,  as  faste  as  he  may 

glyde. 
Into  hir  nexte  paleys,  to  abjde, 
Walking    his    cours    til    she    had    him 

a-take,  55 

And  he  preyde  hir  to  haste  hir  for  his 

sake. 

Then  seyde  he  thus  —  "  myn  hertes  lady 

swete, 
Ye  knowe  wel  my  mischef  in  that  place; 
P"or  sikerly,  til  that  1  with  yow  mete,    59 
My  lyf  slant  ther  in  aventure  and  grace; 
But  when  I  see  the  beaute  of  your  face, 
Ther  is  no  dreed  of  deth  may   do  me 

smerte. 
For  al  your  lust  is  eseto  myn  herte." 

She  hath  so  gret  compassion  of  hir 
knight,  64 

That  dwelleth  in  solitude  til  she  come; 

For  hit  stood  so,  that  ilke  tyme,  no 
wight 

Counseyled  him,  ne  seyde  to  him  wel- 
come. 

That  nigh  hir  wit  for  wo  was  overcome; 

Wherfore  she  speilde  hir  as  faste  in  hir 
weye,  69 

Almost  in  oon  day,  as  he  dide  in  tweye, 


The  grete  loye  that  was  betwix  hem  two, 
Whan  thev  be  met,  ther  may  no  tunge 

telle  ' 
Ther  is  no  more,  but  unto  bed  they  go, 
And  thus  in  loye  and  blisse  I  lete  hem 

dwelle; 
This  worthy  Mars,  that  is  of  knighthod 

welle,  75 

The  flour  of  fairnes  lappeth  in  his  armes, 
And    Venus   kisseth    Mars,    the   god   of 

armes. 

Soiourned  hath   this   Mars,  of  which  I 

rede, 
In  chambre  amid  the  paleys  prively 
A  certeyn  tyme,  til  him  fel  a  drede,       80 
Through  Phebus,  that  was  comen  hastely 
Within  the  paleys-yates  slurdely, 
With    torche    in    honde,   of    which    the 

stremes  brighte 
On  Venus  chambre  knokkeden  ful  lighte. 

The   chambre,  ther   as   lay   this   fresshe 

quene,  85 

Depeynted  was  with  whyte  boles  grete. 
And  by  the  light  she  knew,  that  shoon 

so  shene, 
That  Phebus  cam  to  brenne  hem  with  his 

hete; 
This  sely  Venus,  dreynt  in  teres  wete,  89 
Enbraceth  Mars,  and  seyde, "  alas  !  I  dye  ! 
The  torch  is  come,  that  al  this  world  wol 

wrye." 

Up  sterte  Mars,  him  liste  not  to  slepe, 
Whan  he  his  lady  herde  so  compleyne; 
But,  for  his  nature  was  not  for  to  wepe. 
In  stede  of  teres,  fro  his  eyen  tweyne    95 
The  fyry  sparkes  brosten  out  for  peyne; 
And    hente    his   hauberk,   that    lay    him 

besyde; 
Flee  wolde  he  not,  ne  mighte  him-selven 

hyde. 

He  throweth  on  his  helm  of  huge  wighte, 
And  girt  him  with  his  swerde;    and  in 

his  honde  100 

His    mighty  spere,  as    he  was    wont    to 

fighte, 
He  shaketh  so  that  almost  it  to-wonde; 
Ful  hevy  he  was  to  walken  over  londe; 
He  may  not  holde  with  Venus  companye. 
But  bad  hir  fleen,  lest  Phebus  hir  espye. 


I06-I77-] 


IV.    THE  COMPLEYNT  OF   MARS. 


95 


O  woful  Mars  !  alas !  what  inayst  thou 
seyn,  lo6 

That  in  the  paleys  of  thy  disturhaunce 

Art  left  behinde,  in  peril  to  be  sleyn? 

And  yet  ther-to  is  double  thy  penauncC; 

For  she,  that  hath  thyn  herte  in  gover- 
naunce,  I  lO 

Is  passeil  halfe  the  stremes  of  thyn  yen; 

That  thou  nere  swift,  wel  mayst  thou 
vvepe  and  cryen. 

Now  fleeth  Venus  un-to  Cylenius  tour. 
With  voide  cours,  for  fere  of  Phebus  light. 
Alas  !  and  ther  ne  hath  she  no  socour,  1 15 
For  she  ne  fond  ne  saw  no  maner  wight; 
And  eek  as  ther  she  had  but  litil  might; 
Wher-for,  hir-selven  for  to  hyde  and  save. 
Within  the  gate  she  lledde  into  a  cave. 

Derk  was  this  cave,  and  smoking  as  the 
helle,  120 

Not  but  two  pas  within  the  gate  hit  stood; 

A  naturel  day  in  derk  I  lete  hir  dwelle. 

Now  wol  I  speke  of  Mars,  furious  and 
wood ; 

For  sorow  he  wolde  have  seen  his  herte 
blood; 

Sith  that  he  mighte  hir  don  no  companye, 

He  ne  roghte  not  a  myte  for  to  dye.  126 

So  feble  he  wex,  for  hete  and  for  his  wo. 
That  nigh  he  swelt,  he  mighte  unnethe 

endure; 
He  passeth  hut  00  steyre  in  dayes  two, 
But  ner  the  les,  for  al  his  hevy  armure, 
He  foloweth  hir  that  is  his  lyvescure;  1 31 
For  whos  departing  he  took  gretter  yre 
Thanne  for  al  his  brenning  in  the  fyre. 

After  he  walketh  softely  a  pas,  134 

Compleyning,  that  hit  pite  was  to  here. 
He  seyde,  "  O  lady  bright,  Venus  !   alas  ! 
That  ever  so  wyde  a  com])as  is  my  spere  ! 
Alas !   whan  shal  I  mete  vow,  herte  dere. 
This  twelfte  day  of  April  I  endure,      139 
Through  lelous  l*hel)us,  this  misaventure." 

Now  god  helpe  sely  Venus  allone  ! 
But,  as  god  wolde,  hit  happetl  for  to  be. 
That,  whyl  that  \'enus  weping  maile  hir 

mone, 
Cylenius,  ryding  in  his  chevauche,       144 
Fro  Venus  valance  mighte  his  paleys  see, 


And  Venus  he  salueth,  and  makcth  chere. 
And  hir  receyveth  as  his  frend  ful  dere. 

Mars  dwelleth  forth  in  his  adversite, 
Compleyning  ever  on  hir  departinge; 
An<l  what  hiscompleynt  was,  remembreth 

me ;  1 50 

And  therfore,  in  this  lusty  morweninge. 
As  I  best  can,  I  wol  hit  seyn  and  singe, 
And  after  that  I  wol  my  leve  take; 
And  God  yeve  every  wight  loye  of  his 

make ! 

The  Compleynt  of  Mars. 

The  Proem  of  the  Compleynt. 

^  The  ordre  of  compleynt  requireth  skil- 
fully, 155 
That  if  a  wight  shal  pleyne  pitously, 
There  mot  be  cause  wherfor  that  men 
pleyne; 
Or  men  may  deme  he  pleyneth  folily 
And  causeles;    alas!   that  am  not  II 
Wherfor  the  ground  and  cause  of  al 
my  peyne,  160 
So  as  my  troubled  wit  may  hit  ateyne, 
I  wol  reherse ;  not  for  to  have  redresse, 
But  to  declare  my  ground  of  hevinesse. 

Devotion. 

f  The  firste  tyme,  alas  !  that  I  was  wroght, 
And  for  certeyn  effectes  hider  broght 

By  him  that  lordeth  ech  intelligence, 

I  yaf  my  trewe  servise  and  my  thoght, 

For  evermore  —  how  dere  I  have  hit 

boght ! — 

To  hir,  that  is  of  so  gret  excellence, 

That  what  wight  that  first  sheweth 

his  presence,  170 

When  she  is  wroth  and  taketh  of  him 

no  cure, 
He  may  not  longe  in  loye  of  love  en- 
dure, 

I        This  is  no  feyned  mater  that  T  telle; 
My  lady  is  the  verrey  sours  and  welle 
Of  beaute,  lust,  fredom,  and  gentil- 
nesse,  175 

Of    riche    aray  —  how    dere    men    hit 

selle  !  — 
Of  al  disport    in   which  men   frendly 
dwelle, 


96 


THE  MINOR   POEMS. 


[178-237. 


Of  love  and   pley,  and  of    benigne 

huinblesse, 
Of  soune  of  instruments  of  al  swet- 
nesse; 
And     therto    so    wel     fortuned     and 
thewed,  180 

That  through  the  world  hir  goodncsse 
is  y-shewed. 

What  wonder  is  then,  thogh  that  I  be- 

sette 
My  servise  on  suche  oon,  that  may  me 

knette 
To  wele  or  wo,  sith  hit  lyth  in  hir 

might? 
Therfor   my  herte   for   ever   I    to  hir 

hette;  185 

Ne  trewly,  for  my  dethe,  I  shal  not 

lette 
To  ben  hir  trewest  servaunt  and  hir 

knight. 
I  flater  noght,  that  may  wite  every 

wight; 
For  this  day  in  hir  servise  shal  I  dye ; 
But  grace  be,  I  see  hir  never  with  ye. 

A  Lady  in  fear  and  woe. 

\  To  whom  shal  I  than  pleyne  of  my  dis- 

tresse?  191 

Who  may  me  helpe,  who  may  my  harm 

redresse? 

Shal  I  compleyne  unto  my  lady  free  ? 

Nay,  certes !    for  she  hath  such  hevi- 

nesse. 
For  fere  and    eek    for  wo,  that,  as    I 
gesse,  195 

In  litil  tyme  hit  wol  hir  bane  be. 
But  were  she  sauf,  hit  wer  no  fors 
of  me. 
Alas!  that  ever  lovers  mote  endure. 
For  love,  so  many  a  perilous  aventure  ! 

For  thogh  so  be  that  lovers  be  as  trewe 

As  any  metal  that  is  forged  newe,    201 

In  many  a  cas  hem  tydeth  ofte  sorowe. 

Somtyme   hir  ladies  will  not    on  hem 

rewe, 
Somtyme,  yif  that  lelosye  hit  knewe, 
They  mighten  lightly  leye  hir  heed 
to  borowe;  205 

Somtyme  envyous  folk  with  tunges 
horowe 


Depraven  hem;    alas!   whom  may  they 

plese? 
But  he  be  fals,  no  lover  hath  his  ese. 

But  what  availeth  suche   a  long    ser- 

moun 
Of  aventures  of  love,  up  and  doun?  210 
I   wol    returne    and   speken    of  my 
peyne; 
The  point  is  this  of  my  destruccioun. 
My  righte  lady,  my  salvacioun, 

Is   in   affray,  and   not   to  whom    to 

pleyne. 
O  herte  swete,  O  lady  sovereyne  1215 
For  your   disese,  wel  oghte  I  swoune 

and  swelte, 
Thogh    I    non  other  harm    ne   drede 
felte. 

Instability  of  Happiness. 

^  To  what  fyn  made  the  god  that  sit  so 

hye, 

Benethen  him,  love  other  companye, 

And  streyneth  folk  to  love,  malgre 

hir  hede?  220 

And  then  hir  loye,  for  oglit  I  can  espye, 

Ne  lasteth  not  the  twinkeling  of  an  ye, 

And  somme  han  never  loye  til  they 

be  dede. 
What  menith  this?  what  is  this  mis- 
tihede? 
Wherto    constreyneth   he   his    folk  so 
faste  225 

Thing  to  desyre,  but  hit  shulde  laste? 

And    thogh   he  made  a  lover  love  a 

thing. 
And  maketh  hit  seme  stedfast  and  dur- 
ing, 
Yet  puttith  he  in  hit  such  misaven- 
ture,  229 

That  reste  nis  ther  noon  in  his  yeving. 
And  that  is  wonder,  that  so  lust  a  king 
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  is   the 
mone.  235 

Hit  semeth  he  hath  to  lovers  enmite. 
And  lyk  a  fissher,  as  men  alday  may  see. 


238-298.] 


IV.     THE  COMrLEVNT  OF   MARS. 


97 


Baiteth    his    angle-hook   with   soni 

plesaunce, 

Til  muny  a  fish  is  wood  til  that  he  he 

Sesed  ther-with ;   and  then  at  erst  hath 

he  240 

Al  his  desyr,  and  ther-with  al  mis- 

chaunce; 
And  thogh  the  lyne  breke,  he  hath 
penaunce; 
For  with  the  hoke  he  wounded  is  so 

sore, 
That  he  his  wages  hath  for  ever-more. 

The  Brooch  of  Thebes. 

The  hroche  of  Thebes  was  of  suche  a 

kinile,  245 

So  ful  of  rubies  and  of  stones  Inde, 
That  every  wight,  that  sette  on  hit 

an  ye, 
He  wende  anon  to  worthe  out  of  his 

minde; 
So  sore  the   beaute  wolde   his   herte 

binde, 
Til  he  hit  hadde,  him    thoghte  he 

moste  dye;  250 

And   whan    that    hit  was    his,  than 

shulde  he  drye 
Such  wo  for  drede,  ay  whyl  that  he  hit 

hadde, 
That  welnigh  for  the   fere  he  shulde 

madde. 

And  whan  hit  was  fro  his  possessioun, 
Than  had  he  double  wo  and  passioun 

For  he  so  fair  a  tresor  had  forgo;  256 
But  yet  this  broche,  as  in  conclusioun. 
Was  not  the  cause  of  this  confusioun; 

But  he  that  wroghte  hit  enfortuned 
hit  so, 

That  every  wight  that  had  hit  shnld 

have  wo;  260 

And  therfor  in  the  worcher  was  the  vyce, 

And  in  the  covetour  that  was  so  nyce. 

So  fareth  hit  by  lovers  and  by  me ; 
For  thogh  my  lady  have  so  gret  beaute. 
That  I  was  mad  til  I  had  gete  hir 
grace,  265 

She  was  not  cause  of  myn  adversite. 
But  he  that    wroghte  hir,   also  mot  I 
thee. 
That  putte  suche  a  beaute  in  hir  face. 


That  made  me  to  covete  and  purchace 

Myn  owne  deth;    him  wyte  I   that    I 

dye,  270 

And  myn  unwit,  that  ever  I  clomb  so 

hye. 

An  Appeal  for  Sympathy. 

\  But  to  yow,  hardy  knightes  of  renoun, 
Sin  that  ye  be  of  my  divisioun, 

Al  be   I   not   worthy  to   so  grete  a 

name. 

Vet,  seyn  these  clerkes,  I  am  your  pa- 

troun;  275 

Ther-for  ye  oghte  have  som  compas- 

sioun 

Of  my  disese,  and  and  take  it  noght 

a-game. 
The  proudest  of  yow  may  be  mad  ful 
tame ; 
Wherfor  I  prey  yow,  of  your  gentilesse, 
That  ye  compleyne  for  myn  hevinesse. 

And  ye,  my  ladies,  that  ben  trewe  and 

stable,  2S1 

By  way  of  kinde,  ye  oghten  to  be  able 

To    have    pite    of    folk    that    be    in 

peyne : 

Now  have  ye  cause  to  clothe  yow  in 

sable; 
Sith  that  your  emperice,  the  honorable, 
Is  desolat,  vvel  oghte  ye  to  pleyne; 
Now  shuld  your  holy  teres  falle  and 
reyne. 
Alas  !   your  honour  and  your  emperice. 
Nigh  deed  for  drede,  ne  can  hir  not 
chevise. 

Compleyneth  eek,  ye  lovers,  al  in-fere. 
For  hir  that,  with    unfeyned   humble 

chere,  291 

Was  ever  redy  to  do  yow  socour; 
Compleyneth   hir   that  ever  hath   had 

yow  dere; 
Compleyneth  beaute,  fredom,  and  man- 

ere; 
Compleyneth   hir   that  endeth   your 

labour;  295 

Compleyneth  thilke  ensample  of  al 

honour. 
That  never  dide  but  al  gentilesse; 
Kytheth    therfor   on   hir   som    kinde- 

nesse.' 


98 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


V.     THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES. 


The  Proem. 

The  lyf   so  short,  the  craft  so   long  to 

lerne, 
Thassay  so  hard,  so  sharp  the  conquering, 
The  dredful  loy,  that  alwey  sHt  so  yerne, 
Al  this  mene  I  by  love,  that  my  feling  4 
Astonyeth  with  his  wonderful  worching 
So  sore  y-wis,  that  whan  I  on  him  thinke, 
Nat  wot   I    wel   wher   that   I   wake   or 

winke. 

For  al  be  that  I  knowe  not  love  in  dede, 
Ne  wot  how  that   he  quyteth    folk    hir 

hyre,  9 

Yet  happeth  me  ful  ofte  in  bokes  rede 
Of  his  miracles,  and  his  cruel  yre; 
Ther   rede  I  wel  he  wol   be   lord   and 

syre, 
I  dar  not  seyn,  his  strokes  been  so  sore, 
But  God  save  swich   a  lord !    I  can  no 


Of  usage,  what  for  luste  what  for  lore,  15 
On  bokes  rede  I  ofte,  as  I  yow  tolde. 
But  wherfor  that    I  speke  al   this?  not 

yore 
Agon,  hit  happed  me  for  to  beholde 
Upon  a  boke,  was  write  with  lettres  olde; 
And  ther-upon,  a  certeyn  thing  to  lerne, 
The   longe   day  ful   faste   I   radde   and 

yerne.  21 

For  out  of  olde  feldes,  as  men  seith, 
Cometh   al   this  newe  corn   fro  yeer  to 

yere; 
And  out  of  olde  bokes,  in  good  feith, 
Cometh   al  this  newe  science  that  men 

lere.  25 

But  now  to  purpos  as  of  this  matere  — 
T(j  rede  forth  hit  gan  me  so  delyte. 
That  al  the  day  me  thoughte  but  a  lyte. 

This  book  of  which  I  make  mencioun, 
Entitled  was  al  thus,  as  I  shal  telle,       30 
'TuUius  of  the  dreme  of  Scipioun'; 
Chapitres  seven  hit  hadde,  of  hevene  and 

helle. 
And    erthe,    and    soules    that    therinne 

dwelle, 


Of  whiche,  as  shortly  as  I  can  hit  trete, 
Of    his   sentence    I   wol   you   seyn   the 
grete.  35 

First  telleth  hit,  whan  Scipioun  was  come 
In  Afrik,  how  he  mette  Massinisse, 
That  him  for  loye  in  armes  hath  y  nome. 
Than  telleth  [hit]  hir  speche  and  al  the 

blisse 
That  was  betwix  hem,  til    the    day  gan 

misse;  40 

And  how  his  auncestre,  African  so  dere, 
Gan  in  his  slepe  that  night  to  him  ap- 

pere. 

Than  telleth  hit  that,  fro  a  sterry  place. 
How  African  hath  him  Cartage  shewed. 
And  warned  him  before  of  al  his  grace, 
And  seyde  him,  what  man,  lered  other 
lewed,  46 

That  loveth  comun  profit,  wel  y-thewed, 
He  shal  unto  a  blisful  place  wende, 
Ther  as  loye  is  that  last  withouten  ende. 

Than  asked  he,  if  folk  that  heer  be  dede 
Have  lyf  and  dwelling  in  another  place; 
And  African  seyde,  '  ye,  withoute  drede,' 
And  that  our  present  worldes  lyves  space 
Nis  but  a  maner  deth,  what  wey  we  trace. 
And   rightful    folk    shal   go,    after   they 

Jye.  55 

To  heven;   and  shewed  him  the  galaxye. 

Than  shewed  he  him  the  litel  erthe,  that 

heer  is. 
At  regard  of  the  hevenes  quantite; 
And  after  shewed  he  him  the  nyne  speres, 
And  after  that  the  melodye  herde  he    60 
That  cometh  of  thilke  speres  thryes  three, 
That  welle  is  of  musyke  and  melodye 
In  this  world  heer,  and  cause  of  armonye. 

Than  bad  he  him,  sin  erthe  was  so  lyte. 
And  ful  of  torment  and  of  harde  grace, 
That    he    ne    shulde    him    in    the   world 

delyte.  66 

Than   tolde    he    him,    in    certeyn   yeres 

space, 
That  every  sterre  shulde  come  into  his 

place 


69- '35-] 


V.    THE  parleme:nt  of  FOULES. 


99 


Ther  hit  was  first;   and  al  shulde  out  of 

miiule 
That  in  this  worlde  is    don  of   al  man- 

kinde.  70 

Than  prayde  him  Scipioun  to  telle  him  al 
The   wey   to   come    un-to    that    hevene 

blisse ; 
And  he  seyde,  *  know  thy-self  first  im- 
mortal, 
And  loke  ay  besily  thou  werke  and  wisse 
To   comun   profit,   and    thou   shalt    nat 
misse  75 

To  comen  swiftly  to  that  place  dere. 
That  ful  of  blisse  is  and  of  soules  clere. 

But  brekers  of  the  la  we,  soth  to  seyne, 
And  lecherous  folk,  after  that  they  be  dede, 
Shul  -alwey    whirle    aboute    therthe    in 

peyne,  80 

Til  many  a  world  be  passed,  out  of  drede, 
And  than,  for-yeven  alle  hir  wikked  dede. 
Than  shul   they  come  unto  that   blisful 

place. 
To  which  to  comen  god  thee  sende  his 

grace ! '  — 

The  day  gan  fallen,  and  the  derke  night. 
That  reveth  bestes  from  hir  besinesse,  86 
Berafte  me  my  book  for  lakke  of  light, 
And  to  my  bedde  I  gan  me  for  to  dresse, 
Fulhld  of  thought  and  besy  hevinesse; 
For  bothe  I  hadde  thing  which    that  I 

nolde,  90 

And  eek   I  ne  hadde  that  thing  that  I 

wolde. 

But  fynally  my  spirit,  at  the  laste, 
For-wery  of  my  labour  al  the  day. 
Took  rest,  that  made  me  to  slepe  faste. 
And  in  my  slepe  I  mette,  as  I  lay,         95 
How  African,  right  in  that  selfe  aray 
That  Scipioun  him  saw  before  that  tyde. 
Was  comen,  and  stood  right  at  my  beddes 
syde. 

The  wery  hunter,  slepinge  in  his  bed,  99 
To  wode  ayein  his  minde  goth  anoon; 
The  luge   dremeth    how  his  plees   ben 

sped; 
The  carter  dremeth  how  his  cartes  goon; 
The  riche,  of  gold;    the  knight  fight  with 
«     his  foon, 


The  seke  met  he  drinketh  of  the  tonne; 
The  lover  met  he  hath  his  lady  wonne. 

Can  I  nat  seyn  if  that  the  cause  were  106 

Fur  I  had  red  of  African  beforn. 

That  made  me    to  mete    that   he  stood 

there; 
But  thus  seyde   he,  '  thou  hast  thee  so 

wel  born 
In  loking  of  myn  olde  book  to-torn,    no 
Of  which  Macrobie  roghte  nat  a  lyte. 
That    somdel    of    thy    labour   wolde    I 

quyte ! '  — 

Citherea  !  thou  blisful  lady  swete, 

That  with  thy  fyr-brand  dauntest  whom 

thee  lest,  114 

And  madest  me  this  sweven  for  to  mete, 
Be  thou  my  help  in  this,  for  thou  mayst 

best; 
As  wisly  as  I  saw  thee  north-north-west, 
When  I  began  my  sweven  for  to  wryte. 
So  yif  me  might  to  ryme  hit  and  endyte ! 

The  Story. 

This  forseid  African  me  hente  anoon,  120 
And  forth  with  him  unto  a  gate  broghte 
Right    of  a   parke,    walled    with    grene 

stoon ; 
And   over   the    gate,  with   lettres   large 

y-wroghte, 
Ther  weren  vers  y-writen,  as  me  thoghte, 
On  eyther  halfe,  of  ful  gret  difference. 
Of  which  I  shal  yow  sey  the  pleyn  sen- 
tence. 126 

'  Thorgh  me  men  goon  in-to  that  blisful 
place 

Of  hertes  hele  and  dedly  woundcs  cure; 

Thorgh  me  men  goon  unto  the  welle  of 
Grace, 

Ther  grene  and  lusty  May  shal  ever  en- 
dure; 130 

This  is  the  wey  to  al  good  aventure; 

Be  glad,  thou  reder,  and  thy  sorwe  of- 
caste, 

Al  open  am  I;  passe  in,  and  hy  thee 
faste !  ' 

'Thorgh  me  men  goon,'  than  spak  that 
other  syde,  134 

'  Unto  the  mortal  strokes  of  the  spere. 


THE   MINOR   rOEMS. 


[136-203. 


Of  which    Disdayn  and  Daunger  is  the 

gyle, 

Ther  tree  shal  never  fruyt  ne  leves  here. 
This  streem  you   ledeth    to   the  sorwful 

were, 
Ther  as  the  fish  in  prison  is  al  drye; 
Theschewing  is  only  the  remedye.'      140 

Thise   vers   of  gold   and   blak   y-writen 

were, 
The  whiche  I  gan  a  stounde  to  beholde, 
For  with  that  oon  encresed  ay  my  fere, 
And    with    that   other   gan   myn    herte 

bolde; 
That  oon  me  hette,  that  other   did  me 

colde,  145 

No  wit  had  I,  for  errour,  for  to  chese. 
To  entre  or  flee,  or  me  to  save  or  lese. 

Right  as,  betwixen  adamauntes  two 
Of  even  might,  a  pece  of  iren  y-set,     149 
That  hath  no  might  to  meve  to  ne  fro  — 
For  what  that  on  may  hale,  that  other 

let  — 
Ferde  I,  that  niste  whether  me  was  bet. 
To  entre  or  leve,  til  African  my  gyde 
Me    hente,   and   shoof  in   at   the   gates 

wyde, 

And  seyde,  '  hit  stondeth  writen  in  thy 

face,  155 

Thyn  errour,  though  thou  telle  it  not  to 

me; 
But  dred  thee    nat  to  come   in-to   this 

place. 
For    this  wryting   is   no-thing   ment   by 

thee, 
Ne  by  noon,  but  he  Loves  servant  be; 
For  thou  of  love   hast  lost   thy  tast,  I 

gesse,  160 

As  seek  man  hath  of  swete  and  bitter- 

nesse. 

But    natheles,    al-though    that    thou    be 

dulle, 
Yit  that    thou  canst   not  do,  yit  mayst 

tliou  see; 
For  many  a  man  that  may  not  stonde  a 

pulle,  164 

Yit  lyketh  him  at  the  wrastling  for  to  be, 
And  demeth  yit  wher  he  do  bet  or  he; 
And  if  thou  haddest  cunning  for  tendyte, 
I  shal  thee  sliewen  mater  of  to  wryte.' 


With  that  my  hand  in  his  he  took  anoon, 
Of  which  I  comfort  caughte,  and  wente 

in  faste;  170 

But  lord  !  so  I  was  glad  and  wel  begoon  ! 
For  over-al,  wher  that  I  myn  eyen  caste, 
Were  trees  clad  with  leves  that  ay  shal 

laste, 
Eche  in  his  kinde,  of  colour  fresh  and 

grene 
As  emeraude,  that  loye  was  to  sene.    175 

The  bilder  00k,  and  eek  the  hardy  asshe; 
The  piler  elm,  the  cofre  unto  careyne; 
The    boxtree    piper;    holm   to   whippes 

lasshe; 
The    sayling    firr;    the    cipres,   deth    to 

pleyne; 
The  sheter  ew,  the  asp  for  shaftes  pleyne; 
The  olyve  of  pees,  and  eek  the  drunken 

vyne,  181 

The  victor  palm,  the  laurer  to  devyne. 

A  garden  saw  I,  ful  of  blosmy  bowes, 

Upon  a  river,  in  a  grene  mede, 

Ther  as  that  swetnesse  evermore  y-now 

is,  185 

With  floures  whyte,  blewe,  yelowe,  and 

rede; 
And  colde  welle-stremes,  no-thing  dede, 
That  swommen  ful  of  smale  fisshes  lighte. 
With    finnes    rede    and    scales    silver- 

brighte. 

On   every   bough    the   briddes   herde   I 

singe,  190 

With  voys  of  aungel  in  hir  armonye, 
Som   besyed    hem    hir    briddes   forth   to 

bringe; 
The  litel  conyes  to  hir  pley  gunne  hye, 
And  further  al  aboute  I  gan  espye 
The  dredful  roo,  the  buk,  the  hert  and 

hinde,  195 

Squerels,    and    bestes    smale    of   gentil 

kinde. 

Of  instruments  of  strenges  in  acord 
Herde  I  so  pleye  a  ravisshing  swetnesse, 
That  god,  that  maker  is  of  al  and  lord, 
Ne  herde  never  better,  as  I  gesse;       200 
Therwith  a  wind,  unnethe  hit  might  be 

lesse, 
Made  in  the  leves  grene  a  noise  softe 
Acordant  to  the  foules  songe  on-lofte.   . 


204-276.] 


V.    THE   rARLP:ML:NT  OF   FOULES. 


The  air  of  that  place  so  attenipre  was 
That  never  was   grevaunce  of  hoot   ne 

cold;  205 

Ther  wex  eek  every  holsom  spyce   and 

gras, 
Ne  no  man  may  ther  wexe  seek  ne  old; 
Yet  was  ther  loye  more  a  thousand  fold 
Then  man  can  telle;    ne  never  wolde  it 

nighte, 
But  ay  cleer  day  to  any  mannes  sighte. 

Under  a  tree,  besyde  a  welle,  I  say  211 
Cupyde  our  lord  his  arwes  forge  and  fyle; 
And  at  his  fete  his  howe  al  redy  lay, 
And  wel  his  doghter  tenipred  al  the  whyle 
The  hedes  in  the  welle,  and  with  hir  wyle 
She  couched  hem  after  as  they  shulde 

serve,  216 

Som  for  to  slee,  and  som  to  wounde  and 

kerve. 

Tho  was  I  war  of  Plesaunce  anon-right, 
And  of  Aray,  and  Lust,  and  Curtesye; 
And  of  the  Craft  that  can  and  hath  the 

might  220 

To  doon  by  force  a  wight  to  do  folye  — 
Disfigurat  was  she,  I  nil  not  lye; 
And  by  him-self,  under  an  oke,  I  gesse, 
Sawe   I   Delyt,  that   stood  with   Gentil- 

nesse. 

I  saw  Beautee,  withouten  any  atyr,      225 
And  Youthe,  ful  of  game  and  lolyte, 
Fool-hardinesse,  Platery,  and  Desyr, 
Messagerye,  and  Mede,  and  other  three  — 
Hir  names  shul  noght  here  be  told  for 
me —  229 

And  upon  pilers  grete  of  lasper  longe 
I  saw  a  temple  of  bras  y-founded  stronge. 

Aboute  the  temple  daunceden  alway 
Wommen  y-nowe,  of  whiche  somme  ther 

were 
Faire  of  hem-self,   and  somme  of  hem 

were  gay; 
In    kirtcls,    al    disshevele,    wente    they 

there —  235 

That  was  hir  office  alwey,  yeer  by  yere  — 
And  on  the  temple,  of  doves  whyte  and 

faire 
Saw  I  sittinge  many  a  hundred  paire. 

Before  the  temple-dore  ful  soberly 


Dame   Pees   sat,  with  a  curteyn  in  hir 
hond :  240 

And  hir  besyde,  wonder  discretly, 
Dame  Pacience  sitting  ther  I  fond 
With  face  pale,  upon  an  hille  of  sond; 
And  alder-next,  within  and  eek  with-oute. 
Behest  and  Art,  and  of  hir  folke  a  route. 

Within  the  temple,  of  syghcs  bote  as  fyr 
I  hertle  a  swogh  that  gan  aboute  renne; 
Which    syghes    were    engendred    with 

desyr. 
That  maden  every  auter  for  to  brenne 
Of    newe    flaume;    and    wel    aspyed    I 

thenne  250 

That  al  the  cause  of  sorwes  that  they 

drye 
Com  of  the  bitter  goddesse  lalousye. 

The  god  Priapus  saw  I,  as  I  wente. 
Within    the   temple,   in   soverayn    place 

stonde. 
In  swich   aray   as   whan   the   asse   him 

shente  255 

With  crye  by  night,  and  with  his  ceptre 

in  honde; 
Ful  besily  men  gunne  assaye  and  fonde 
Upon  his  hede  to  sette,  of  sondry  hewe, 
Garlondes  ful  of  fresshe  floures  newe. 

And  in  a  privee  corner,  in  disporte,    260 
Fond  I  Venus  and  hir  porter  Richesse, 
That  was  ful  noble  and  hauteyn  of  hir 

porte; 
Derk  was  that  place,  but  afterward  light- 

nesse 
I  saw  a  lyte,  unnethe  hit  might  be  lesse, 
And  on  a  bed  of  golde  she  lay  to  reste. 
Til  that  the  bote  sonne  gan  to  weste.  266 

Hir  gilte  heres  with  a  golden  threde 
Y-bounden  were,  untressed  as  she  lay, 
And  naked  fro  the  breste  unto  the  hede 
Men  might  hir  see;    and,  sothly  for  to 
say,  270 

The  remenant  wel  kevered  to  my  pay 
Right  with  a  subtil  kerchef  of  Valence, 
Ther  was  no  thikker  cloth  of  no  defence. 

The  place  yaf  a  thousand  savours  swote. 
And  Bachus,  god  of  wyn,  sat  hir  besytle, 
And    Ceres    next,    that    doth    of   hunger 
bote;  276 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[277-345- 


And,  as  I  seide,  amiddes  lay  Cipryde, 
To   whom   on    knees    two    yonge    folkes 

cryde 
To  ben  hir  help;    but  thus  I  leet  hir  lye, 
And  ferther  in  the  temple  I  gan  espye 

That,  in  dispyte  of  Diane  the  chaste,  281 
Ful  many  a  bowe  y-broke  heng  on  the 

wal 
Of  maydens,  suche  as  gunne   hir  tymes 

waste 
In  hir  servyse;  and  peynted  over  al 
Of  many  a  story,  of  which  I  touche  shal 
A  fewe,  as  of  Calixte  and  Athalaunte,  286 
And  many  a  mayde,  of  which  the  name 

I  wante; 

Semyramus,  Candace,  and  Ercules, 
Biblis,  Dido,  Tisbe  and  Piramus, 
Tristram,  Isoude,  Paris,  and  Achilles,  290 
Eleyne,  Cleopatre,  and  Troilus, 
Silla,  and  eek  the  moder  of  Romulus  — 
Alle  these  were  peynted  on  that  other 

syde. 
And  al  hir  love,  and  in  what  plyte  they 

dyde. 

Whan  I  was  come  ayen  into  the  place 
That  I  of  spak,  that  was  so  swote  and 
grene,  296 

Forth  welk  I  tho,  my-selven  to  solace. 
Tho  was  I  war  wher  that  ther  sat  a  quene 
That,  as  of  light  the  somer-sonne  shene 
Passeth  the  sterre,  right  so  over  mesure 
She  fairer  was  than  any  creature.         301 

And  in  a  launde,  upon  an  hille  of  floures, 
Was  set  this  noble  goddesse  Nature; 
Of  braunches  were   hir  halles   and    hir 

boures, 
Y-wrought  after  hir  craft  and  hir  mesure; 
Ne  ther  nas  foul  that  cometh  of  engen- 

drure,  306 

That  they  ne  were  prest  in  hir  presence, 
To  take  hir  doom  and  yeve  hir  audience. 

For  this  was  on  seynt  Valentynes  day. 
Whan  every  foul  cometh    ther  to  chese 

his  make,  310 

Of  every  kinde,  that  men  thenke  may; 
And  that  so  huge  a  noyse  gan  they  make, 
That  erthe  and  see,  and  tree,  and  every 

Jak? 


So  ful  was,  that  unnethe  was  ther  space 
For  me  to  stonde,  so  ful  was  al  the  place. 

And  right   as  Aleyn,  in  the   Pleynt   of 

Kinde, 
Devyseth  Nature  of  aray  and  face. 
In   swich   aray   men    mighten   hir   ther 

finde. 
This  no])le  emperesse,  ful  of  grace,     319 
Bad  every  foul  to  take  his  owne  place, 
As  they  were  wont  alwey  fro  yeer  to  yere, 
Seynt  Valentynes  day  to  stonden  there. 

That  is  to  sey,  the  foules  of  ravyne 
Were   hyest   set;     and   than   the  foules 

smale, 
That  eten  as  hem  nature  wolde  enclyne, 
As  worm,  or   thing  of  whiche  I  telle  no 

tale;  326 

But  water-foul  sat  lowest  in  the  dale; 
And  foul  that  liveth  by  seed  sat  on  the 

grene. 
And  that   so   fele,   that  wonder  was  to 

sene. 

Ther  mighte  men  the  royal  egle  finde. 
That  with  his  sharpe  look  perceth  the 

Sonne;  331 

And  other  egles  of  a  lower  kinde. 
Of  which  that  clerkes  wel  devysen  conne. 
Ther  was  the   tyraunt  with   his  fethres 

donne 
And   greye,  I  mene  the  goshauk,  that 

doth  pyne  335 

To  briddes  for  his  outrageous  ravyne. 

The  gentil  faucon,  that  with  his  feet  dis- 

treyneth 
The  kinges  hond;    the  hardy  sperhauk 

eke. 
The     quayles    foo;     the     merlion    that 

peyneth 
Him-self  ful  ofte,  the  larke  for  to  seke; 
Ther  was  the  douve,  with  hir  eyen  make; 
The   lalous   swan,   ayens   his  deth  that 

singeth; 
The  oule  eek,  that  of  dethe  the  bode 

bringeth; 

The  crane  the  geaunt,  with  his  trompes 

soune ; 
The  theef,  the  chogh;   and  eek  the  lang- 

ling  pye;  345 


34Mi^-] 


V.     THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES. 


103 


The    scorning    lay;     the    eles    foo,    the 

heroune; 
The  false  lapwing,  ful  of  trecherye; 
The  stare,  that  the  cuunseyl  can  bewrye; 
The    tame    ruddok;     and    the    coward 

kyte; 
The  cok,  that  orloge  is  of  thorpes  lyte; 

The  sparow,  Venus  sone;  the  nightin- 
gale, 351 

That  clepeth  forth  the  fresshe  laves  newe; 

The  svvalovv,  mordrer  of  the  flyes  smale 

That  maken  hony  of  floures  fresshe  of 
hewe; 

The  wedded  turtel,  with  hit  herte  trewe ; 

The  pecok,  with  his  aungels  fethres 
brighte;  356 

The  fesaunt,  scorner  of  the  cok  by  nighte; 

The  waker  goos;   the  cukkow  ever  un- 

kinde; 
The  popiniay,  ful  of  delicasye; 
The  drake,  stroyer  of  his  owne  kinde;  360 
The  stork,  the  wreker  of  avouterye; 
The  hote  cormeraunt  of  glotonye; 
The    ravenvvys,    the    crow   with   vois   of 

care; 
The  throstel  olde;   the  frosty  feldefare. 

What  shulde  I  seyn?  of  foules  every 
kinde  365 

That  in  this  worlde  han  fethres  and 
stature. 

Men  mighten  in  that  place  assembled 
finde 

Before  the  noble  goddesse  Nature. 

And  everich  of  hem  did  his  besy  cure 

Benignely  to  chese  or  for  to  take,        370 

By  hir  acord,  his  formel  or  his  make. 

But  to  the  poynt — Nature  held  on  hir 

honde 
A  formel  egle,  of  shap  the  gentileste 
That  ever  she  among  hir  werkes  fonde, 
The  most  benigne  and  the  goodlieste; 
In  hir  was  every  vertu  at  his  reste. 
So    ferforth,    that    Nature    hir-self    had 

blisse 
To  loke  on  hir,  and  ofte  hir  bek  to  kisse. 

Nature,  the  vicaire  of  thalmyghty  lorde. 
That  hoot,  cold,  hevy,  light,  [and]  moist 
and  dreye  380 


Ilath  knit  by  even  noumbre  of  acovde. 
In  esy  vois  began  to  speke  and  seye, 
'  Foules,  tak  hede  of  my  sentence,  I  preye, 
And,  for  your  ese,  in  furthering  of  your 

nede. 
As  faste  as  I  may  speke,  I  wol  me  spede. 

Ye  know  wel  how,  seynt  Valentynes 
day,  386 

By  my  statut  and  through  my  govern- 
aunce. 

Ye  come  for  to  chese  —  and  flee  your 
way  — 

Your  makes,  as  I  prik  yow  with  plesaunce. 

But  natheles,  my  rightful  ordenaunce  390 

May  I  not  lete,  for  al  this  world  to  winne, 

That  he  that  most  is  worthy  shal  beginne. 

The  tercel  egle,  as  that  ye  knowen  wel, 
The  foul  royal  above  yow  in  degree. 
The  wyse  and  worthy,  secree,  trewe  as 

stel,  395 

The  which  I  formed  have,  as  ye  may  see. 
In  every  part  as  hit  best  lyketh  me. 
Hit  nedeth  noght  his  shap  yow  to  devyse, 
He  shal  first  chese  and  speken  in  his 

gyse. 

And  after  him,  by  order  shul  ye  chese,  400 
After  your  kinde,  everich  as  yow  lyketh, 
And,  as  your  hap  is,  shul  ye  winne  or 

lese; 
But  which  of  yow  that  love   most   en- 
try keth, 
God  sende  him  hir  that  sorest  for  him 

syketh.' 
And  therwith-al  the  tercel  gan  she  calle, 
And  seyde,  '  my  sone,  the  choys  is  to  thee 

falle. 
But  natheles,  in  this  condicioun 
Mot  be  the  choys  of  everich  that  is  here, 
That  she  agree  to  his  eleccioun, 
Who-so  he  be  that  shulde  been  hir  fere; 
This  is  our  usage  alvvey,  fro  yeer  to  yere; 
And  who  so  may  at  this  time  have  his 

grace, 
In  blisful  tyme  he  com  in-to  this  place.' 

With  hed  enclyned  and  with  ful  humble 

chere 
This  royal  tercel  spak  and  taried  nought; 
'  Unto  my  sovereyn  lady,  and  noght  my 

fere,  416 


I04 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[417-490. 


I  chese,  and  chese  with  wille  and  herte 

and  thought, 
The  formel  on  yourhond  so  wel  y- wrought, 
Whos  I  am  al  and  ever  wol  hir  serve, 
Do  what  hir  hst,  to  do  me  live  or  sterve. 

Beseching  hir  of  mercy  and  of  grace,  421 
As  she  that  is  my  la<ly  sovereyne; 
Or  let  mc  tlye  present  in  this  place. 
For  certes,  long  may  I  not  live  in  peyne; 
For  in  myn  herte  is  corven  every  veyne; 
Having  reward  only  to  my  trouthe,  426 
My  dere  herte,  have  on  my  wo  soni 
routhe. 

And  if  that  I  to  hir  be  founde  untrevve, 
Disobeysaunt,  or  wilful  negligent, 
Avauntuur,  or  in  proces  love  a  newe,  430 
I  pray  to  you  this  be  my  lugement, 
That  with  these  foules  I  be  al  to-rent, 
That  ilke  day  that  ever  she  me  finde 
To  hir  untrewe,  or  in  my  gilte  unkinde. 

And  sin  that  noon  loveth  hir  so  wel  as  I, 
Al  be  she  never  of  love  me  behette,  436 
Than    oghte    she    be    myn    thourgh    hir 

mercy. 
For  other  bond  can  I  noon  on  hir  knette. 
For  never,  for  no  wo,  ne  shal  I  lette 
To  serven  hir,  how  fer  so  that  she  wende; 
Sey  what  yow  list,  my  tale  is  at  an  ende.' 

Right  as  the  fresshe,  rede  rose  newe  442 
Ayen  the  somer-sonne  coloured  is. 
Right   so   for    shame   al  wexen   gan   the 

hewe 
Of  this  formel,  whan  she  herde  al  this; 
She   neyther  answerde   '  wel,'  ne    seyde 

amis. 
So  sore  abasshed  was  she,  til  that  Nature 
Seyde,  '  doghter,  drede  yow  noght,  I  yow 

assure.' 

Another  tercel  egle  spak  anoon 

Of  lower  kinde,  and  seyde,  '  that  shal  not 
be;  450 

I  love  hir  bet  than  ye  do,  by  seynt  lohn, 

Or  atte  leste  I  love  hir  as  wel  as  ye; 

And  lenger  have  served  hir,  in  my  de- 
gree, 

And  if  she  shulde  have  loved  for  long 
loving. 

To  me  allone  had  been  the  guerdoning. 


I  dar  eek  seye,  if  she  me  finde  fals,     456 
Unkinde,  Tangier,  or  rebel  any  wyse, 
Or  lalous,  do  me  hongen  by  the  hals! 
And  but  I  here  me  in  hir  servyse 
As  wel  as  that  my  wit  can  me  suffyse,  460 
Fro  poynt  to   poynt,   hir   honour   for   to 

save, 
Tak  she  my  lyf,  and  al  the  good  I  have.' 

The  thridde  tercel  egle  answerde  tho, 
'Now,  sirs,  ye  seen  the  litel  leyser  here; 
For  every  foul  cryeth  out  to  been  a-go  465 
Forth  with  his   make,  or  with   his  lady 

dere; 
And  eek  Nature  hir-self  ne  wol  nought 

here. 
For  tarying  here,  noght  half  that  I  wolde 

seye ; 
And  but  I  speke,  I  mot  for  sorwe  deye. 

Of  long  servyse  avaunte  I  me  no-thing, 
But  as  possible  is  me  to  dye  to-day     471 
For  wo,  as  he  that  hath  ben  languissh- 

ing 
Thise    twenty   winter,   and  wel   happen 

may 
A  man  may  serven  bet  and  more  to  pay 
In  half  a   yere,  al-though  hit  were  no 

more,  475 

Than  som  man  doth  that  hath  served  ful 

yore. 

I  ne  say  not  this  by  me,  for  I  ne  can 
Do  no  servyse  that  may  my  lady  plese; 
But  I  dar  seyn,  I  am  hir  trewest  man 
As  to  my  dome,  and  feynest  wolde  hir 

ese ;  480 

At  shorte  wordes,  til  that  deth  me  sese, 
I    wol    ben    hires,  whether   I    wake    or 

winke, 
And  trewe  in  al  that  herte  may  bethinke.' 

Of  al  my  lyf,  sin  that  day  I  was  born, 
.So  gentil  plee  in  love  or  other  thing  485 
Ne  herde  never  no  man  me  beforn. 
Who- [so]    that   hadde   leyser  and  cun- 
ning 
For  to  reherse  hir  chere  and  hir  spek- 

And    from   the  morwe  gan    this    speche 

laste 

Til    dounward  drow  the  sonne   wonder 

faste,  490 


491-563] 


V.     THE    PARLEMENF   OF    FOULES. 


105 


The  noyse  of  foules  for  to  ben  delivered 

So  loude  rong,  '  have  doou  and  let  us 
wende ! ' 

That  svel  wende  I  the  wode  had  al  to- 
shivered. 

'  Come  of ! '  they  cryde,  '  alias  !  ye  wil  us 
shcnde  ! 

Whan  shal  your  cursed  pleding  have  an 
ende?  495 

How  shulde  a  luge  eyther  party  leve, 

For  yee  or  nay,  with-outen  any  preve  ? ' 

The  goos,  the  cokkovv,  and  the  doke  also 
So  cryden  '  kek,  kek  ! ' '  kukkow  ! ' '  quek, 

quek  !  '  hye, 
That  thorgh  myn  eres  the  noyse  wente 

thi).  500 

The  goos  seyde,  *  al  this  nis  not  worth 

a  flye ! 
But  I  can  shape  hereof  a  remedye, 
And  I  wol  sey  my  verdit  faire  and  swythe 
F'or    water- foul,    who-so    be    wrooth    or 

blythe.' 

'  And  I  for  worm-foul,'  seyde  the  fool 
cukkow,  505 

'  For  I  wol,  of  myn  owne  auctorite. 
For    comune    spede,   take    the    charge 

now. 
For  to  delivere  us  is  gret  charite.' 
'  Ye  may  abyde  a  whyle  yet,  parde  ! ' 
Seide  the  turtel,  '  if  hit  be  your  wille  510 
A  wight  may  speke,  him  were  as  good 
be  stille. 

I  am  a  seed-foul,  oon  the  unworthieste, 
That  wot  I  wel,  and  litel  of  kunninge; 
But  bet  is  that  a  wightes  toiige  reste  514 
Than  entremeten  him  of  such  doinge 
Of  which  he  neyther  rede  can  nor  singe. 
And  who-so  doth,  ful  foule  himself  acloy- 

eth, 
For  oftice  uncommitted  ofte  anoyeth.' 

Nature,  which  that  ahvay  had  an  ere  519 
To  murmour  of  the  lewednes  l)ehinde. 
With    facound    voys    seide,    '  hold    your 

tonges  there  ! 
And  I  shal  sone,  I  hope,  a  counseyl  finde 
You  to  delivere,  and  fro  this  noyse  un- 

binde; 
I  luge,  of  every  folk  men  shal  oon  calle 
To  seyn  the  verdit  for  you  foules  alle.' 


Assented  were  to  this  conclusioun       526 
The  briddes  alle;    and  foules  of  ravyne 
Han  chosen  first,  by  pleyn  eleccioun, 
The  tercelet  of  the  faucon,  to  diffyne 
Al  hir  sentence,  and  as  him  list,  tcrmyne; 
And  to  Nature  him  gonnen  to  presentc. 
And  slie  accepteth  him  with  glad  entente. 

The  tercelet  seide  than  in  this  manere : 
'  Ful  hard  were  hit  to  preve  hit  by  re- 

soun 
Who  lovcth  best  this  gentil  formel  here; 
F'or  everich  hath  swich  rejilicacioun,  536 
That    noon    by  skilles    may  be    broght 

a-doun; 
I  can  not  seen  that  arguments  avayle; 
Than  semeth  hit  ther  nioste  be  batayle.' 

'  Al  redy !  '  quod  these  egles  tercels  tho. 
'  Nay,  sirs  ! '  quod  he,  '  if  that  I  dorste  it 

seye,  541 

Ye  doon  me  wrong,  my  tale  is  not  y-do ! 
For  sirs,  ne  taketh  noght  a-gref,  I  preve. 
It  may  noght  gon,  as  ye  wolde,  in  this 

weye; 
Oure  is  the  voys  that  han  the  charge  in 

honde,  545 

And  to  the  luges  dome  ye  moten  stonde; 

And  therfor  pees !  I  seye,  as  to  my  wit. 
Me  wolde  thinke  how  that  the  worthieste 
Of  knighthode,  and  lengest  hath  used  hit, 
Moste  of  estat,  of  blode  the  gentileste. 
Were  sittingest  for  hir,  if  that  hir  leste; 
And  of  these  three  she  wot  hir-self,  I 

trowe. 
Which    that    he    be,  for  hit    is  light   to 

knowe.' 

The  watcr-foules  han  her  hedes  leyd 
Togeder,  and  of  short  avysement,        555 
Whan  everich  had  his  large  golee  seyd. 
They  seyden  sothly,  al  by  oon  assent. 
How  that  '  the  goos,  with  hir  facounde 

gent, 
That  so  desyreth  to  pronounce  our  nede, 
Shal  telle  our  tale,'  and  preyde  '  god  hir 

spede.'  560 

And  for  these  water-foules  tho  began 
The  goos  to  speke,  and  in  hir  cakelinge 
She  seyde,  '  pees !  now  tak  kepe  every 
man, 


io6 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[564-627. 


And  herkeneth  which  a  reson  I  shal 
hringe; 

My  wit  is  sharp,  I  love  no  taryinge;    565 

I  seye,  I  rede  him,  though  he  were  my 
brother. 

Hut  she  wol  love  him,  lat  him  love  an- 
other ! ' 

'  Lo  here  !  a  parfit  reson  of  a  goos  !  ' 
Quod  the  sperhauk ;  '  never  mot  she  thee  ! 
Lo,  swich  hit  is  to  have  a  tongc  loos  !  570 
Now  [jarde,  fool,  yet  were  hit  bet  for  thee 
Have  holde  thy  pees,  than   shewed  thy 

nycete  ! 
Hit  lyth  not  in  his  wit  nor  in  his  wille. 
But  sooth  is  seyd,  "  a  fool  can  noght  be 

stille."  ' 

The  laughter  aroos  of  gentil  foules  alle. 

And  right  anoon  the  seed-foul  chosen 
hadde  576 

The  turtel  trewe,  and  gunne  hir  to  hem 
calle. 

And  preyden  hir  to  seye  the  sothe  sadde 

Of  this  niatere,and  asked  what  she  radde; 

And  she  answerde,  that  pleynly  hir  en- 
tente 580 

She  wolde  shewe,  and  sothly  what  she 
mente. 

'  Nay,     god     forbade    a     lover     shulde 

chaunge ! ' 
The  turtel  seyde,  and  wex  for  shame  al 

reed; 
*  Thogh    that    his    lady    ever-more    be 

straunge. 
Yet  let  him  serve  hir  ever,  til  he  be  deed; 
For    sothe,   I    preyse    noght   the   gooses 

reed;  586 

For  thogh  she  deyed,  I  wolde  non  other 

make, 
I  wol  ben  hires,  til  that  the  deth  me  take.' 

'  Wei  bourded  ! '  quod  the  doke,  '  by  my 

hat! 
That  men  shulde  alwey  loven,  causeles, 
Who  can  a  reson  finde  or  wit  in  that? 
Daunceth  he  mury  that  is  mirtheles? 
Who  shulde  recche  of  that  is  reccheles? 
Ye,  quek  !  '  yit  quod   the  doke,  ful  wel 

and  faire, 
'There   been   mo  sterres,  god  wot,  than 

a  paire  ! '  595 


'  Now  fy,  cherl ! '  quod  the  gentil  tercelet, 
'  Out  of  the  dunghil  com  that  word  ful 

right, 
Thou  canst  noght  see  which  thing  is  wel 

bc-set : 
Thou  farest  by  love  as  oules    doon  by 

light, 
The  day  hem  blent,  ful  wel  they  see  by 

night;  600 

Thy  kind  is  of  so  lowe  a  wrechednesse. 
That  what  love  is,  thou  canst  nat  see  ne 

gesse.' 

Tho  gan  the  cukkow  putte  him  forth  in 

prees 
For   foul    that    eteth    worm,   and   seide 

blyve, 
'  So  I,'  quod  he,  '  may  have  my  make  in 

pees,  605 

I  recche  not  how  longe  that  ye  stryve; 
Lat  ech  of  hem  be  soleyn  al  hir  lyve. 
This  is  my  reed,  sin  they  may  not  acorde; 
This  shorte  lesson  nedeth  noght  recorde.' 

'  Ye !  have  the  glotoun  fild  ynogh  his 
paunche,  610 

Than  are  we  wel ! '  seyde  the  merlioun; 

'Thou  mordrer  of  the  heysugge  on  the 
braunche 

That  broghte  thee  forth,  thou  [rewthe- 
lees]  glotoun  ! 

Live  thou  soleyn,  wormes  corrupcioun ! 

For  no  fors  is  of  lakke  of  thy  nature;  615 

Go,  lewed  be  thou,  whyl  the  world  may 
dure  ! ' 

'  Now  pees,'  quod  Nature,  '  I  comaunde 

here; 
For  I  have  herd  al  your  opinioun. 
And  in  effect  yet  be  we  never  the  nere; 
Rut  fynally,  this  is  my  conclusioun,     620 
That  she  hir-self  shal  han  the  eleccioun 
Of  whom  hir  list,  who-so  be  wrooth  or 

blythe. 
Him  that  she  cheest,  he  shal  hir  have  as 

swythe. 

For  sith  hit  may  not  here  discussed  be 
Who  loveth  hir  best,  as  seide  the  tercelet. 
Than  wol   I   doon   hir  this  favour,  that 

she  626 

Shal  have  right  him  on  whom  hir  herte 

is  set, 


628-699.] 


V.    THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES 


107 


And  he  hir  that  his  herte  hath  on  hir  knet. 
This  Iuj,'e  I,  Nature,  for  I  may  not  lye; 
To  noon  estat  I  have  non  other  ye.     630 

Rut  as  for  counseyl  for  to  chese  a  make, 
If  liit  were  reson,  certes,  than  wolde  I 
Counseyle  yow  the  royal  tercel  take, 
As  seide  the  tercelet  ful  skilfully, 
As  for  the  gentilest  and  most  worthy,  635 
Which    I    have    wroght    so   wel    to   my 

plesaunce; 
That  to  yow  oghte  been  a  suffisaunce.' 

With  dredful  vois  the  formel  hir  answerde, 
'  My  rightful  lady,  goddesse  of  Nature, 
Soth  is  that  I  am  ever  under  your  yerde, 
I,yk  as  is  everiche  other  creature,  641 
And  moot  he  youres  whyl  my  lyf  may  dure ; 
And  therfor  graunteth  me  my  Hrste  bone. 
And  myn  entente  I  wol  yow  sey  right 
sone.' 

'  I  graunte  it  you,'  quod  she ;  and  right 
anoon  645 

This  formel  egle  spak  in  this  degree, 

'  Almighty  quene,  unto  this  yeer  be  doon 

I  aske  respit  for  to  avysen  me. 

And  after  that  to  have  my  choys  al  free; 

This  al  and  som,  that  I  wolde  speke  and 
seye;  650 

Ye  gete  no  more,  al-though  ye  do  me 
deye. 

I  wol  noght  serven  Venus  ne  Cupyde 
For  sothe  as  yet,  by  no  manere  wey.' 
•  Now  sin  it  may  non  other  wyse  betyde,' 
Quod  tho  Nature  '  here  is  no  more  to 

sey;  655 

Than   wolde   I  that    these    foules  were 

a-wey 
Ech  with  his  make,  for  tarying   lenger 

here '  — 
And  seyde  hem  thus,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 


quod 


'To   you   speke    I,   ye   tercelets,' 

Nature, 
'  Beth   of  good  herte  and   serveth,  alle 

three;  660 

A  yeer  is  not  so  longe  to  endure. 
And  ech  of  yow  peyne  him,  in  his  degree. 
For  to  do  wel;   for,  god  wot,  quit  is  she 

Explicit  tractatus  de  congregacione  Valuer nm  die  sancti  VaUntini 


Fro  yow  this  yeer;  what  after  so  befalle, 
This  entremes  is  dressed  for  you  alle.'  665 

And  whan  this  werk  al  broght  was  to  an 

ende. 
To  every  foule  Nature  yaf  his  make 
By  even    acorde,  and   on  hir  wey  they 

wende. 
A !  lord !  the  blisse  and  loye  that  they 

make !  669 

For  ech  of  hem  gan  other  in  winges  take, 
And  with  hir  nekkes  ech  gan  other  winde. 
Thanking  alwey  the  noble  goddesse  of 

kinde. 

But  first  were  chosen  foules  for  to  singe, 
As  yeer  by  yere  was  alwey  hir  usaunce 
To  singe  a  roundel  at  hir  departinge,  675 
To  do  Nature  honour  and  plesaunce. 
The  note,  I  trowe,  maked  was  in  Fraunce; 
The  wordes  wer  swich  as  ye  may  hcer 

finde. 
The  nexte  vers,  as  I  now  have  in  minde. 

Qui  bien  aime  a  tard  oublie. 

'  Now    welcom   somer,   with    thy   sonne 

softe,  6S0 

That  hast  this  wintres  weders  over-shake, 

And  driven  awey  the  longe  nightcs  blake  ! 

Seynt  Valentyn,  that  art  ful  hy  on-lofte ;  — 
Thus  singen  smale  foules  for  thy  sake  — 
No'w  welcom  somer,  with  thy  sonne  softe^ 
That  hast  this  wintres  weders  over-shake. 

Wel  han  they  cauSe  for  to  gladen  ofte, 

Sith  ech  of  hem  recovei?d  hath  his  make; 
Ful  blisful  may  they  singen  whan  they 

wake; 
A^ow  welcom  somer,  with  thy  sonne  softe. 
That  hast  this  wintres  weders  over-shake. 
And  driven  awey  the  longe  nightes  Make.'' 


And  with  the  showting,  whan  hir  song 

was  do. 
That  foules  maden  at  hir  flight  a-way, 
I  wook,  and  other  bokes  took  me  to  695 
To  rede  upon,  and  yet  I  rede  alway; 
I  hope,  y-wis,  to  rede  so  som  day 
That  I  shal  mete  som  thing  for  to  fare 
The  bet;  and  thus  to  rede  I  nil  not  spare. 


io8 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[1-57- 


VI.     A   COMPLEINT  TO   HIS   LADY. 


I.    (/«  seven-line  stanzas.) 

The  longe  night,  whan  every  creature 
Shulde  have  hir  rest  in  somwhat,  as  by 
kinde, 
Or  elles  ne  may  hir  lyf  nat  long  endure, 
Hit  falleth  most  in-to  my  woful  minde 
How    I    so   fer    have    broght    my-self 
behinde,  5 

That,  sauf  the  deeth,  ther  may  no-thing 

me  hsse, 
So  desespaired  I  am  from  alle  blisse. 

This   same    thoght   me    lasteth    til    the 

morwe, 

And  from  the  morwe  forth  til  hit  be 

eve; 

Ther  nedeth  me  no  care  for  to  porwe,  10 

For  bothe  1  have  good  leyser  and  good 

leve; 
Ther    is    no    wight    that  wol   me    wo 
bereve 
To  wepe  y-nogh,  and  wailen  al  my  fiUe ; 
The  sore  spark  of  peyne  doth  me  spille. 

II.    (/«  Terza  Ritna  ;  imperfect.) 

[The    sore    spark    of    peyne    doth    me 

spille;]  15 

This  Love  hath  [eek]  me  set  in  swich 

a  place 
That   my   desyr    [he]    never   wol   ful- 
fille; 
For  neither  r>ilee,  mercy,  neither  grace 
Can  I  nat  finde;    and   [fro]   my  sorw- 

ful  herte, 
For  to  be  deed,  I  can  hit  nat  arace.  20 
The  more  I  love,  the  more  she  doth  me 
smerte ; 
Through  which  I  see,  with-oute  reme- 

dye. 
That   from  the  deeth  I  may  no  wyse 
asterte; 
[For  this  day  in  hir  servise  shal  I  dye]. 

III.     (/«  Terza  Rima  ;  imperfect.) 

[Thus  am  I  slain,  with   sorwes   ful  dy- 
verse ;  25 


Ful  longe  agoon  I  oghte  have  taken 

hede]. 
Now    sothly,    what    she    hight    I    wol 
reherse; 
Hir  name  is  Bountee,  set  in  womanhede, 
Sadnesse  in  youthe,  and  Beautee  pry- 

delees. 
And    Plesaunce,    under    governaunce 
and  drede;  30 

Hir  surname  eek  is  Faire  Rewthelees, 
The  Wyse,  y-knit  un-to  Good  Aventure, 
That,  for  I  love  hir,  sleeth  me  giltelees. 
Hir  love   I  best,  and  shal,  whyl  I  may 
dure, 
Bet  than  my-self  an  hundred  thousand 
deel,  35 

Than  al  this  worldes  richesse  or  crea- 
ture. 
Now  hath  nat  Love  me  bestowed  weel 
To  love,  ther  I  never  shal  have  part? 
Alias !    right    thus   is   turned   me   the 
wheel. 
Thus  am  I  slayn  with  loves  fyry  dart.    40 
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. 

IV.     (/«  teti-line  stanzas.) 

[With]-in  my  trewe  careful  herte  ther  is 
So  moche  wo,  and  [eek]  so  litel  blis,   45 

That  wo  is  me  that  ever  I  was  bore ; 
For  al  that  thing  which  I  desyre  I  mis. 
And  al  that  ever  I  wolde  nat,  I-wis, 

That  finde  I  redy  to  me  evermore;    49 
And  of  al  this  I  not  to  whom  me  pleyne. 

For  she   that   mighte   me   out  of   this 
bringe 

Ne  reccheth  nat  whether  I  wepe    or 
singe; 
So  litel  rewthe  hath  she  upon  my  peyne. 

Alias  !  whan  sleping-time  is,  than  I  wake. 
Whan  I  shulde  daunce,  for  fere  than  I 

quake;  55 

[Yow  rekketh    never  wher  I  flete  or 

sinke;] 
This  hevy  lyf  I  lede  for  your  sake, 


58-127.] 


VI.     A    COM ri,  1:1  NT   TO    HIS    I.ADV. 


109 


Thogh  ye  ther-of  in  no  vvyse  hede  take, 
[For  on  my  wo   yow   deyneth    not  to 
thinke.] 
My    htrtes    lady,    and    hool    my    lyves 


quene ! 


60 


For  trewly  dorste  I  seye,  as  that  I  fele, 
Me   semeth    that   your    swete  herte  of 
stele 
Is  whetted  now  ageynes  me  to  kene. 

My  dcre  herte,  and  best  beloved  fo, 
Wliv  lyketh  yow  to  do  me  al  this  wo,  65 
What  have  I  doon  that  greveth  yow, 
or  sayd, 
But  for  I  serve  and  love  yow  and  no  mo? 
And  whylst  I  live,  I  wol  do  ever  so; 
And  therfor,  swete,  ne  beth  nat  evil 
apayd.  69 

For  so  good  and  so  fair  as  [that]  ye  be. 
Hit  were  [a]  right  gret  wonder  but  ye 

hadde 
Of    alle    servants,    bothe    goode    and 
badde; 
And  leest  worthy  of  alle  hem,  I  am  he. 

But  never-the-les,  my  righte  lady  swete, 
Thogh  that  I  be  unconning  and  unmete 
To   serve   as    I   best    coude    ay   your 
hynesse,  76 

Yit  is   ther  fayner   noon,   that  wolde   I 

hete. 
Than  I,  to  do  yow  ese,  or  elles  bete 
What-so    I   wiste    were   to    [yow    dis- 
tresse]. 
And   hadde  I  might  as  good  as  I  have 
wille,  80 

Tlian  shulde  ye  fele  wher  it  wer  so  or 

noon; 
For  in  this  worlde  living  is  ther  noon 
That  fayner  wolde  your  hertes  vvil  fultille. 

For  bothe  I  love,  and  eek  dreed  yow  so 

sore. 
And  algates  moot,  and  have  doon  yow, 
ful  yore,  85 

That  bet  loved  is  noon,  ne  never  shal; 
And  yit  I  wolde  beseche  yow  of  no  more 
But  leveth  wel,  and  be  nat  wrooth  ther- 
fore, 
And  lat  me  serve  yow  forth;    lo  !   this 
is  al. 
For  I  am  nat  so  hardy  ne  so  wood        90 
For  to  desire  that  ye  shulde  love  me; 


For  wel  I  wot,  alias !  that  may  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;  95 
Yit,  for  al  this,  [now]  witeth  ye  right 
wele. 
That  ye  ne  shul  me  from  your  service 

dryve 
That  I  nil  ay,  with  alle  my  wittes  fyve, 
Serve  yow  trewly,  what  wo  so  that  I 
fele. 
For  I  am  set  on  yow  in  swich  manere  100 
That,    thogh   ye    never   wil    upon    me 

rewe, 
I  moste  yow  love,  and   ever  been  as 
trewe 
As  any  can  or  may  on-lyve  [here]. 

The  more  that  I  love  yow,  goodly  free, 
The  lasse  fynde  I  that  ye  loven  me;    105 

Alias !    whan    shal     that     harde    wit 
amende? 
Wher  is  now  al  your  wommanly  pitee, 
Your  gentilesse  and  your  debonairtee, 

Wil   ye   no    thing    ther-of    upon   me 

spende?  109 

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  ther-on  but  a  smal. 

For,  at  my  knowing,  I  do  no-thing  why, 
And  this  I  wol  beseche  yow  hertely,   115 

That,  ther  ever  ye  finde,  whyl  ye  live, 
A  trewer  servant  to  yow  than  am  I, 
Leveth    [me]    thanne,   and    sleeth    me 
hardely, 
And  I  my  deeth  to  you  wol  al  forgive. 
And  if  ye  fmde  no  trewer  [man  than  me], 
[Why]  will  ye  suffre  than  that  I  thus 
spille,  121 

And   for  no  maner  gilt  but  my  good 
wille? 
As   good  wer  thanne  untrewe  as  trewe 
to  be. 

But  I,  my  lyf  and  deeth,  to  yow  obeye, 
And   with    right   buxom    herte    hoolly    I 

preye,  125 

As   [is]   your  moste  plesure,  so  doth 

by  me; 
Wel  lever  is  me  lyken  yow  and  deye 


Ho 


THE  MINOR   POEMS. 


[128-133.     1-56. 


Than  for  to  any  thing  or  thinke  or  seye 
That  mighte  yow  offende  in  any  tynie. 
And   therfor,  svvete,  rewe  on  my  peynes 
smerte,  130 


And  of  your  grace  granteth  me  som 

drope; 
For  dies  may  me  laste  ne  l)lis  ne  hope, 
Ne  dwellen  in  my  trouble  careful  herte. 


VII.     ANELIDA  AND  ARCITE. 


The  compleynt  of  feire  Anelida  and 

KALS  ARCITE. 

.  Proem. 

Thou  ferse  god  of  armes,  Mars  the  rede, 
That  in  the  frosty  country  called  Trace, 
Within  thy  grisly  temple  ful  of  drede 
I  lonourcd  art,  as  patroun  of  that  place  ! 
With  thy  Bellona,  Pallas,  ful  of  grace,    5 
Be  present,  and  my  song  continue  and 

gye; 

At  my  beginning  thus  to  thee  I  crye. 

P^or  hit  ful  depe  is  sonken  in  my  minde, 
With  pitous  herte  in  English  for  tendyte 
This  olde  storie,  in  Latin  which  I  finde. 
Of  queue  Anelida  and  fals  Arcite,  1 1 

That  elde,  which  that  al  can  frete  and 

byte. 
As  hit  hath  freten  mony  a  noble  storie. 
Hath  nigh  devoured  out  of  our  memorie. 

Be  favorable  eek,  thou  Polymnia,  15 

On  Parnaso  that,  with  thy  sustres  glade, 
By  Elicon,  not  fer  from  Cirrea, 
Singest  with  vois  memorial  in  the  shade, 
Under  the  laurer  which  that  may  not  fade. 
And  do  that  I  my  ship  to  haven  winne; 
First  folow  I  Stace,  and  after  him  Corinne. 

The  Story. 

lamqiic  domes  pairias,  i5fc.;  Statii  The- 
bais,  xii.  519. 

Whan  Theseus,  with  werres  longe  and 

grete. 
The  aspre  folk  of  Cithe  had  over-come, 
With   laurer   crouned,  in  his  char  gold- 
bete, 
Hoom  to  his  contre-houses  is  y-come;  — 
For  which  the  peple  blisful,  al  and  somme. 
So  crydcn,  that  unto  the  sterres  hit  wente. 
And   him  to    honouren    dide    al   hir  en- 
tente; — 


Beforn  this  duk,  in  signe  of  hy  victorie, 
The   trompes  come,   and    in    his   baner 

large  30 

The   image  of  Mars;   and,  in  token  of 

glorie. 
Men   mighten    seen    of    tresor   many   a 

charge. 
Many  a  Ijright  helm,  and  many  a  spere 

and  targe. 
Many  a  fresh  knight,  and  many  a  blisful 

route,  34 

On  hors,  on  fote,  in  al  the  felde  aboute. 

Ipolita  his  wyf,  the  hardy  queue 
Of  Cithia,  that  he  conquered  hadde. 
With  Emelye,  hir  yonge  suster  shene, 
Faire  in  a  char  of  golde  he  with  him 

ladde. 
That  al  the  ground  aboute  hir  char  she 

spradde  40 

With   brightnesse  of  the  beautee  in  hir 

face, 
Fulfild  of  largesse  and  of  alle  grace. 

With   his   triumphe   and  laurer-crouned 

thus. 
In  al  the  floure  of  fortunes  yevingc, 
Lete  I  this  noble  prince  Theseus  45 

Toward  Athenes  in  his  wey  rydinge. 
And  founde  I  wol  in  shortly  for  to  bringe 
The  slye  wey  of  that  I  gan  to  wryte, 
Of  quene  Anelida  and  fals  Arcite. 

Mars,   which    that   through    his   furious 

course  of  yre,  50 

The  olde  wrath  of  luno  to  fulfille. 
Hath  set  the  peples  hertes  bothe  on  fyre 
Of  Thebes  and  Grece,   everich  other  to 

kille 
With  blody  speres,  ne  rested  never  stille, 
But  throng  now   her,  now  ther,  among 

hem   bothe,  55 

That  everich  other  slough,  so  wer  they 

wrothe. 


-Kr-.] 


VII.     AXF.LIDA   AND   ARCITE. 


Ill 


For  whan  Aniphiorax  and  Tydeus, 

Iponicdon,  I'arthonopee  also 

Were  ilcda,  and  slayn  [was]  proud  Cam- 
pane  us, 

And  whan  the  wrecches  Thebans,  breth- 
eren  two,  60 

Were   slayn,   and  kftig   Adrastus   hoom 

So  dcsolat  stood  Thebes  and  so  bare. 
That  no  wight  coude  remedie  of  his  care. 

And  whan  the  olde  Creon  gan  espye 
How   that    the    blood   roial  was   broght 

adoun,  65 

He  hell!  the  cite  by  his  tirannye, 
Anil  did  the  gentils  of  that  regioun 
To  been  his  frendes,  and  dwcllen  in  the 

toun. 
So  what  for  love  of  him,  and  what  for  awe, 
The  noble  folk  wer  to  the  toune  y-drawe. 

Among  al  these,  Anelida  the  quene      71 
Of  Ermony  was  in  that  toun  dwellinge. 
That  fairer  was  then  is  the  Sonne  shene; 
Through-out  the  worKl  so  gan  hir  name 
springe,  74 

That  hir  to  seen  had  every  wight  lykinge; 
For,  as  of  trouthe,  is  ther  noon  hir  liche, 
Of  al  the  women  in  this  worlde  riche. 

Yong  was  this  quene,  of  twenty  yeer  of 

elde, 
Of  midel  stature,  and  of  swich  fairnesse, 
That  nature  had  a  loye  hir  to  behelde; 
And  for  to  speken  of  hir  stedfastnesse,  81 
She  passed  hath  Penelope  and  Lucresse, 
And  shortly,  if  she  shal  be  comprehended, 
In  hir  ne  mighte  no-thing  been  amended. 

ThisTheban  knight  [Arcite]  eek,  sooth 

to  seyn,  85 

Was  yong,  and  ther-with-al  a  lusty  knight, 

But  he  was  double  in  love  and  no-thing 

pleyn, 
And  subtil  in  that  crafte  over  any  wight, 
And   with    his   cunning   wan    this    lady 
bright ;  89 

For  so  ferforth  he  gan  hir  trouthe  assure, 
'Ihat  she  him  [trust]  over  any  creature. 

What  shuld  I  seyn?  she  loved  Arcite  so, 
That,  whan  that  he  was  absent  any  throwe, 
Auou  hir  Ihoghte  hir  herte  brast  a-two; 


For  in  hir  sight  to  hir  he  bar  him  lowe, 
So    that    she  wende    have    al    his    herte 
y-knowe;  96 

But  he  was  fals;   it  nas  but  feyned  chere. 
As  nedeth  not  to  men  such  craft  to  lere. 

But  never-the-les  ful  mikel  besinesse    99 
Had  he,  er  that  he  mighte  his  lady  winne, 
Antl  swoor  he  wolde  dyen  for  distresse. 
Or  from  his  wit  he  seyde  he  wolde  twinne. 
Alas,  the  whyle !   for  hit  was  routhe  and 

sinne. 
That  siie  upon  his  st)rowes  wolde  rewe. 
But  no-thing  thenketh  the  fals  as  doth 

the  trewe.  105 

Hir  fredom  fond  Arcite  in  swich  manere, 
That  al  was  his  that  she  hath,  moche  or 

lyte, 
Ne  to  no  creature  made  she  chere 
Ferther  than  that  hit  lyked  to  Arcite; 
Ther  was  no  lak  with  which  he  mighte 

hir  wyte,  1 10 

She  was  so  ferforth  yeven  him  to  plese, 
That  al  that  lyked  him,  hit  did  hir  ese. 

Ther  nas  to  hir  no  maner  lettre  y-sent 
That  touched  love,  from  any  maner  wight. 
That  she  ne  shewed  hit  him,  er  hit  was 

brent;  115 

So  pleyn  she  was,  and  did  hir  fulle  might, 
That    she    nil    hyden    nothing    from    hir 

knight. 
Lest  he  of  any  untrouthe  hir  upbreyde; 
Withouten  bode  his  heste  she  obeyde. 

And  eek  he  made  him  lelous  over  here, 
That,  what  that  any  man  had  to  hir  seyd, 
Anoon  he  wolde  preyen  hir  to  swere 
What  was  that  word,  or  make  him  evel 

apayd; 
Than   wende  she    out    of   hir   wit    have 

brayd ; 
But  al  this  nas  but  sleight  and  flaterye, 
Withouten  love  he  feyned  lelosye.      126 

And  al  this  took  she  so  debonerly. 
That  al  his  wille,  hir  thoghte  hit  skilful 

thing. 
And  ever  the  lenger  loved  him  tenderly. 
And  did  him  honour  as  he  were  a  king. 
Hir  herte  was  wedded  to  him  with  a  ring; 
So  ferforth  upon  trouthe  is  hir  entente, 


112 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


[133-202. 


That  wher  he  goth,  hir  herte  with  him 
wente. 

Whan  she  shal  ete,  on  him  is  so  hir  thoght, 
That  wel  unnethe  of  mete  took  she  keep  ; 
And    whan    that    she    was    to    hir    reste 

broght,  136 

On    him  she  thoghte  alwey  til  that  she 

sleep; 
Whan  he  was  absent,  prevely  she  weep; 
Thus  liveth  fair  Anelida  the  quene      139 
For  fals  Arcite,  that  did  hir  al  this  tene. 

This  fals  Arcite,  of  his  new-fangelnesse, 
P"or  she  to  him  so  lowly  was  and  trewe, 
Took  lesse  deyntee  for  hir  stedfastnesse. 
And  saw  another  lady,  proud  and  nevve, 
And   right   anon   he   cladde   him   in   hir 

he  we —  145 

Wot   I    not  whether  in  whyte,  rede,  or 

grene  — 
And  falsed  fair  Anelida  the  quene. 

But   never- the-les,  gret  wonder  was  hit 

noon 
Thogh  he  wer  fals,  for  hit  is  kinde  of 

man,  149 

Sith  Lamek  was,  that  is  so  longe  agoon. 
To  been  in  love  as  fals  as  ever  he  can; 
He  was  the  firste  fader  that  began 
To  loven  two,  and  was  in  bigamye; 
And  he  found  tentes  first,  but-if  men  lye. 

This  fals  Arcite  sumwhat  moste  he  feyne. 
Whan  he  wex  fals,  to  covere  his  traitorye. 
Right  as  an  hors,  that  can  both  byte  and 

pleyne;  157 

For  he  bar  hir  on  honde  of  trecherye, 
And   swoor  he   coude    hir    doublenesse 

espye. 
And  al  was  falsnes  that  she  to  him  mente  ; 
Thus  swoor  this  theef,  and  forth  his  way 

he  wente.  161 

Alas !  what  herte  might  enduren  hit. 
For  routhe  or  wo,  hir  sorow  for  to  telle? 
Or  what  man  hath  the  cunning  or  the 

wit? 
Or  what  man  might  with-in  the  chambre 

dwelle,  165 

If  I  to  him  rehersen  shal  the  helle. 
That  suffreth  fair  Aneliila  the  quene 
For  fals  Arcite,  that  did  hir  al  this  tene? 


She  wepeth,  waileth,  swowneth  pitously, 
To  grounde  deed  she  falleth  as  a  stoun; 
Al  crampissheth  hir  limes  crokedly,     171 
She  speketh  as  hir  wit  were  al  agoon; 
Other  colour  then  asshen  hath  she  noon, 
Noon  other  word  she  speketh  moche  or 

lyte, 
But '  mercy,  cruel  herte  myn,  Arcite  ! '  1 75 

And  thus  endureth,  til   that  she  was  so 

mate 
That  she  ne  hath  foot  on  which  she  may 

sustene; 
But  forth  languisshing  ever  in  this  estate. 
Of  which  Arcite  hath  nother  routhe  ne 

tene; 
His   herte   was    elles-where,    newe    and 

grene,  180 

That  on  hir  wo  ne  deyneth  him  not  to 

thinke. 
Him  rekketh   never  wher  she   flete   or 

sinke. 

His  newe  lady  holdeth  him  so  narowe 
Up  by  the  brydel,  at  the  staves  ende. 
That  every  word,  he  dradde  hit  as  an 

arowe;  185 

Hir  daunger  made  him  bothe  bowe  and 

bende. 
And   as   hir   liste,    made   him   turne   or 

wende; 
For  she  ne  graunted  him  in  hir  livinge 
No  grace,  why  that  he  hath  lust  to  singe; 

But   drof  him    forth,    unnethe   liste   hir 
knowe  igo 

That  he  was  servaunt  to  hir  ladyshippe, 
But  lest  that  he  wer  proude,  she  held  him 

lowe; 
Thus  serveth  he,  withouten  fee  or  shipe, 
She    sent    him    now    to    londe,   now    to 
shippe;  194 

And  for  she  yaf  him  daunger  al  his  fille, 
Therfor  she  had  him  at  hir  owne  wille. 

Ensample  of  this,  ye  thrifty  wimmen  alle. 
Take  here  Anelida  and  fals  Arcite, 
That  for  hir  liste  him  '  dere  herte '  calle. 
And  was  so  meek,  therfor  he  loved  hir 

lyte ;  200 

The  kinde  of  mannes  herte  is  to  delyte 
In  thing  that   straunge   is,  also  god  me 

save  ! 


203-2S9-] 


VII.     ANELIDA   AND   ARCITE. 


"3 


For  v\hat  he  may  nut  gcte,  that  vvolde  he 
have. 

Now  turne  we  to  Anelida  ageyn,  204 
Tliat  i)yneth  tlay  by  day  in  lanp;uisshing; 
But  w  han  she  saw  that  hir  ne  jj;at  no  geyn, 
Upon  a  day,  ful  sorowfuUy  weping, 
She  caste  hir  fur  tu  make  a  cumpleyning, 
And  with  hir  owne  hondc  she  gan  hit 
wryte;  209 

And  sente  hit  tuhir  rhel)an  knight  Arcite. 

The  comhleynt  ok  Anklida  thk 

QUENE   UPON    FAI.S    AKCHE. 

Proem. 

So  thirleth  with  the  poynt  of  remem- 

braunce, 
The  sword  of  sorowe,  ywhet  with  fals 
plesaunce, 
Myn  herte,  bare  of  bhs  and  blak  of 
hewe, 
That    turned    is    in    quaking    al    my 

daunce, 
My    suretee    in     a-whaped     counte- 
naunce;  215 

Sith    hit    availeth    not    for    to    ben 

trewe ; 
For  who-so  trewest  is,  hit  shal  hir 
rewe, 
That  serveth  love  and  doth  hir  oliserv- 
aunce 
Alwey  to  oon,  and  chaungeth   for 
no  newe. 

{Strophe:) 

I.   I  wot  my-self  as  wel  as  any  wight; 

For  I  loved  oon  with  al  my  herte  and 

might  221 

More    then    my-self,    an    hundred 

thousand  sythe, 

And   called   him   my   hertes   lyf,  my 

knight, 
And  was   al  his,  as    fer   as   hit  was 
right; 
And  whan  that  he  was  glad,  than 
was  I  blythe,  225 

And   his  disese  was  my  deeth   as 
swythe; 
And  he  ayein    his    trouthe    me   had 
plight 
For  ever-more,  his  lady  me  to  kythe. 

I 


2.  Now  is  he  fals,  alas !  and  causelcs, 
And  of  my  wo  he  is  so  ruutheles,    2  50 

That  with  a  worde  him  list  nut  ones 
deyne 
To  bring  ayein   my  sorowful  herte  in 

pees. 
For  he  is  caught  up  in  a-nothcr  Ites. 
Right  as   him   list,  he  laughetli    at 

my  peyne. 
And  I   ne   can   myn    herte   not   rc- 
streyne,  235 

That  I  ne  love  him  alwey,  never-thc- 
les; 
And  of  al   this  I  nut  to  whom  me 
l)leyne. 

3.  And  shal  I  pleyne  —  alas!   the  harde 

stounde  — 

Un-to    my   foo    that   yaf   my   herte   a 

wounde, 

And  yet  desyreth  that  myn  harm  be 

more  ?  240 

Nay,    certes !    ferther    wol    I    never 

founde 
Non    other    help,    my    sores    for    to 
sounde. 
My  destinee  hath  shapen  it  ful  yore; 
I  v^il  non  other  medecyne  ne  lure; 
I  wil  ben  ay  ther  I  was  ones  bounde, 
That  I  have  seid,  be  seid  for  ever- 
more !  246 

4.  Alas !    wher   is  become  your  gentil- 

esse ! 
Your  wordes  fulle  of  plesaunce  and 
humblesse? 
Your  observaunces  in  so  low  man- 
ere, 
And  your  awayting  and  your  besinesse 
Upon  me,  that  ye  calden  your  mais- 
tresse,  251 

Your  sovereyn  lady  in  this  worlde 

here? 
Alas !  and  is  ther  nother  w-ord  no 
chere 
Ye  vouchesauf  upon  myn  hevinesse? 
Alas !    your   love,  I   bye   hit   al  to 
dere.  255 

5.  Now  certes,  swete,  thogh  that  ye 
Thus  causelcs  the  cause  be 

Of  my  dedly  adversitee, 
Your  manly  reson  oghte  it  to  respyte 


114 


THE    MINOR   POEMS. 


[260-321. 


To  slee  your  freml,  anci  namely  me, 
That  never  yet  in  no  degree         261 
Ol'fended  yow,  as  wisly  he, 
That  al  wot,  out  of  wo  my  soule  quyte  ! 

^  But  fur  I  shewed  yow,  Arcite, 
Al  that  men  wolde  to  me  wryte,  265 
And  was  so  besy,  yow  to  delyte  — 

My  honour  save  —  meke,  kinde,  and 
free, 
Therfor  ye  putte  on  me  the  wyte, 
And  of  me  recche  not  a  myte,     269 
Thogh  that  the  swerd  of  sorow  byte 

My  woful  herte  through  your  crueltee. 

6.    My  swete  foo,       why  do  ye  so,       for 
shame? 
And   thenke   ye       that  furthered  be 
your  name, 
To  love  a  newe,       and  been  un- 
trewe?       nay! 
And  putte   yow       in  sclaunder  now 

and  blame, 
And    do    to    me       adversitee 
grame. 
That    love   yow    most,       god 

thouwost!       alway? 

Yet  turn  ayeyn,       and  be  al  pleyn 

som  day. 

And  than  shal  this       that  now  is  mis 

be  game, 

And  al  for-yive,       whyl  that  I  live 

may.  280 

(^Anlistrophe.^ 
I.    Lo  !  herte  myn,  al  this  is  for  to  seyne, 
As    whether    shal    I    preye    or    elles 
pleyne? 
Whiche  is  the  wey  to  doon  yow  to 
be  trewe? 
For    either    mot   I   have    yow   in    my 

cheyne. 
Or  with  the  dethe  ye  mot  departe  us 
tweyne;  285 

Ther  ben   non  other   mene  weyes 

newe; 
For  god  so  wisly  on  my  soule  rewe, 
As  verily  ye  sleen  me  with  the  peyne; 
That  may  ye  see  unfeyned  of  myn 
hewe.    . 


275 
and 

god,   wel 


For    thus    ferforth 
[y]-soght, 


have 


I    my    deth 
290 


ith 


with    my    prevy 


My-self    I     mordre 
thoght; 

For  sorow  and  routhe  of  your  un- 
kindenesse 
I  wepe,  I  wake,  I  faste;    al  helpeth 

noght; 
I  weyve  loy  that  is  to  speke  of  oght, 
I  voyde  companye,  I  ilee  gladnesse; 
Who  may  avaunte  hir  bet  of  hevi- 
nesse  296 

Then  I  ?  and  to  this  plyte  have  ye  me 
broght, 
Withoute  gilt;   me  nedeth  no  wit- 
nesse. 

And    sholde    I    preye,    and    weyve 

womanhede? 
Nay !   rather  deth  then  do  so  foul  a 
dede,  300 

And  axe  mercy  gilteles  !  what  nede? 
And  if  I  pleyne  what  lyf  that  I  lede, 
Yow  rekketh  not;    that   know  I,  out 
of  drede ; 
And  if  I  unto  yow  myn  othes  bede 
For  myn  excuse,  a  scorn  shal  be  my 
mede ;  305 

Your  chere  floureth,  but  hit  wol  not 
sede; 
Ful  longe  agoon  I  oghte  have  take 
hede. 

For    thogh   I   hadde  yow  to-morow 

ageyn, 
I  might  as  wel  holde  Averill  fro  reyn, 
As  holde  yow,  to  make  yow  sted- 
fast.  310 

Almighty  god,  of  trouthe  sovereyn, 
Wher    is   the    trouthe    of  man?    who 
hath  hit  sleyn? 
Who   that   hem    loveth    shal    hem 

fynde  as  fast 
As  in  a  tempest  is  a  roten  mast. 
Is  that  a  tame  best  that  is  ay  feyn  315 
To  renne  away,  when  he  is  leest 
agast  ? 

Now  mercy,  swete,  if  I  misseye. 
Have  I  seyd  oght  amis,  I  preye? 
I  not;    my  wit  is  al  avveye. 
I  fare  as  doth  the  song  of  Chaunte- 
pleiire.  320 

For    now    I    pleyne,    and    now    I 
pleye. 


ll 


322-357-] 


IX.    THE   FORMER   AGE. 


"5 


I  am  so  maseil  that  I  deye, 
Arcite  hatli  hum  awey  the  keye 
Of    al    my    worlde,    and    my    good 
avcnturc  ! 

%  For  in  this  worlde  nis  creature  325 
Walvinge,  in  more  discomiiture 
Then  I,  ne  more  sorovv  endure; 

And  if  I  slepe  a  furlong-wcy  or  tweye, 
Than  thinketli  me,  tliat  your  ligure 
Before  me  stant,  clad  in  asure,  330 
To  profren  eft  a  newe  assure 

For  to  be  trewe,  and   mercy  me   to 
preye. 

this  wonder  sight 


The  longe  night 

I  drye, 

And  on  the  day         for  this  afray  I 

dye,  334 

And  of  al  this         right  noght,  y-wis, 

ye  recche. 

Ne  never  mo         myn  yen  two         be 

drye, 
And  to   your  routhe         and  to  your 
trouthe         I  crye. 
But   welawey !         to    fer    be   they 

to  fecche; 
Thus   holdeth    me         my  destinee 
a  wrecche. 
But  me  to  rede         out  of  this  drede 
or  gye  34° 

(^Unfinished^ 


Ne  may  my  wit, 
not  strecche. 


so  weyk  is  hit, 


Conclusion. 

Than  ende  I  thus,  sith  I  may  do  no 

more, 

I  yeve  hit  up  for  now  and  ever-more; 

For  I  shal  never  eft  putten  in  bal- 

aunce  344 

My  sekernes,  ne  lerne  of  love  the  lore. 

But  as  the  swan,   I  have   herd  seyd 

ful  yore,  ' 

Ayeins  his  deth  shal  singe  in  his 

penauncc. 
So    singe    I   here    my    destiny    or 
chaunce, 
How  that  Arcite  Anelida  so  sore 
Hath    thirled    with    the    poynt    of 
remembraunce !  350 


The  story  continued. 

Whan  that  Anelida  this  woful  quene 
Ilath  of  hir  hande  vvriten  in  this  wyse. 
With  face  deed,  betwi.Ke  pale  and  grene, 
She  fel  a-swowe;    and  sith  she  gan  to 

ryse, 
And  unto  Mars  avovveth  sacrifyse        355 
With-in  the  temple,  with  a  sorowful  chere, 
That  shapen  was  as  ye  shal  after  here. 


VIII.     CHAUCERS  WORDES  UNTO   ADAM,   HIS  OWNE 
SCRIVEYN. 


Adam  scriveyn,  if  ever  it  thee  bifalle 
Boece  or  Troilus  to  wryten  newe. 
Under  thy  lokkes   thou  most  have  the 

scalle. 
But  after  my  making  thou  wryte  trewe. 


So  ofte  a  daye  I  mot  thy  werk  renew,     5 
Hit  to  correcte  and  eek  to  rubbe  and 

scrape; 
And  al  is   through  thy  negligence  and 

rape. 


IX.     THE    FORMER   AGE. 


A  Bl.lSFtTi.  lyf,  a  paisible  and  a  swete 
Ledden  the  peples  in  the  former  age; 
They  helde   hem  payed  of  fruites,  that 
they  ete. 


Which  that  the  feldes  yave  hem  by 
usage; 

They  ne  were  nat  forpampred  with  out- 
rage; 5 


Ii6 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


Unknowen  was  the  quern  and   eek  the 

melle; 
They  etcn  mast,  h  awes,  and  swich  pounage, 
And  drunken  water  of  the  colde  welle. 

Yit  nas  the  ground  nat  wounded  with 

the  plough, 
But  corn  up-sprong,  unsowe  of  mannes 

hond,  lo 

The  which  they   gniden,  and    eete    nat 

half  y-nough. 
No  man  yit  knew  the  torwes  of  his  lond; 
fjo  man  the  fyr  out  of  the  flint  yit  fond; 
Un-korven  and  un-grobbed  lay  the  vyne; 
No  man  yit  in  the  morter  spyces  grond  15 
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; 
No  coyn  ne  knew  man  which  was  fals  or 

trewe;  20 

No  ship  yit  karf  the  wawes  grene  and 

blewe ; 
No   marchaunt    yit   ne   fette  outlandish 

ware; 
No  trompes  for  the  werres  folk  ne  knewe, 
No   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  dar  wel  seye, 
That  men  first  dide  hir  swety  bysinesse 
To  grobbe  up   metal,  lurkinge  in  dark- 
nesse,  29 

And  in  the  riveres  first  gemmes  soghte. 
Alias !   than  sprong  up  al  the  cursednesse 
Of  covetyse,  that  first  our  sorwe  broghte  ! 
Finit  Etas  pri 


Thise  tyraunts  putte  hem  gladly  nat  in 

pres. 
No  wildnesse,  ne  no  busshes  for  to  winne 
Ther  poverte  is,  as  seith  Diogenes,  35 
Ther  as  vitaile  is  eek  so  skars  and  thinne 
That  noght  but  mast  or  apples  is  ther-inne. 
But,  ther  as  bagges  been  and  fat  vitaile, 
Ther  wol  they  gon,  and  spare  for  no  sinne 
With  al  hir  ost  the  cite  for  tassaile.       40 

Yit  were  no  paleis-chaumbres,  ne   non 

halles; 
In  caves  and  [in]  wodes  softe  and  swete 
Slepten  this  blissed  folk  with-oute  walles, 
On  gras  or  leves  in  parfit  quiete.  44 

No  doun  of  fetheres,  ne  no  bleched  shete 
Was  kid  to  hem,  but  in  seurtee  they  slepte ; 
Hir  hertes  were  al  oon,  with-oute  galles, 
Everich  of  hem  his  feith  to  other  kepte. 

Unforged  was  the  hauberk  and  the  plate; 
The  lambish  peple,  voyd  of  alle  vyce,  50 
Hadden  no  fantasye  to  debate. 
But  ech  of  hem  vvolde  other  wel  cheryce; 
No  pryde,  non  envye,  non  avaryce, 
No  lord,  no  taylage  by  no  tyrannye; 
Humblesse    and    pees,   good   feith,   the 
emperice,  55 

[Fulfilled  erthe  of  olde  curtesye.] 

Yit  was  not  lupiter  the  likerous, 
That  first  was  fader  of  delicacye, 
Come  in  this  world;   ne  Nembrot,  desir- 
ous 59 
To  reynen,  had  nat  maad  his  toures  hye. 
Alias,  alias  !  now  may  men  wepe  and  crye  ! 
For  in  our  dayes  nis  but  covetyse 
[And]    doublenesse,   and    tresoun    and 

envye, 
Poysoun,    manslauhtre,   and    mordre    in 
sondry  wyse.  64 

ma.     Chancers. 


X.     FORTUNE. 

^Balades  de  visage  sanz  peinhire. 


I.     Le  Pi.eintif  countre  Fortune. 

This  wrecched  worldes  transmutacioun, 
As  wele  or  wo,  now  povre  and  now  honour, 
With-outen  ordre  or  wys  discrecioun 


Governed  is  by  Fortunes  errour; 
But  natheles,  the  lak  of  hir  favour  5 

Ne  may  nat  don  me  singen,  though  I  dye, 
'  lay  tout  perdu  mon  temps  et  man  labour: ' 
For  fynally,  Fortune,  I  thee  defye ! 


X.     FORTUNE. 


i'7 


Yit  is  me  left  the  light  of  my  resoun, 
To  knowen  frend  fro  fo  in  thy  mirour.  lo 
So  muche  hath  yit  thy  whirling  up  and 

doun 
Y-tauglit  me  for  to  knowen  in  an  hour. 
But  trewely,  no  force  of  thy  red  dour 
To    him    that    over    him-self    hath    the 

maystrye ! 
My  sulfisaunce  shal  be  my  socour :         15 
For  fynally,  Fortune,  I  thee  defye ! 

0  vSocrates,  thou  stedfast  champioun, 
She  never  mighte  be  thy  tormentour; 
Thou  never  dreddest  hir  opprcssioun, 
No  in  hir  chere  founde  thou  no  savour.  20 
Thou  knewe  vvel  deceit  of  hir  colour, 
And  that  hir  moste  worshipe  is  to  lye. 

1  knowe  hir  eek  a  fals  dissimulour : 
P"or  fynally,  Fortune,  I  thee  defye  ! 


II.    La   respounse    de 
Fleintif. 


Fortune    au 


No  man  is  wrecched,   but  him-self  hit 

wene,  25 

And   he  that   hath  him-self  hath   suffi- 

saunce. 
Why  seystow  thanne  I  am  to  thee  so  kene. 
That  hast  thy-self  out  of  my  governaunce? 
Sey  thus : '  Graunt  mercy  of  thyn  habound- 

aunce 
That  thou  hast  lent  or  this.'     Why  wolt 

thou  stryve?  30 

What  wostow  yit,  how  I  thee  wol  avaunce  ? 
And  eek  thou  hast  thy  beste  frend  alyve  ! 

I  have  thee  taught  divisioun  bi-twene 
Frend    of  effect,   and  frend  of  counte- 

naunce;  34 

Thee  nedeth  nat  the  galle  of  noon  hyene, 
That  cureth  eyen  derke  fro  hir  penaunce; 
Now  seestuw   cleer,   that  were   in  igno- 

raunce. 
Yit  halt  thyn  ancre,  and  yit  thou  mayst 

arryve 
Ther    buuntee    berth    the    keye    of    my 

substaunce  : 
And  eek  thou  hast  thy  beste  frend  alyve. 

How  many  have  I  refused  to  sustene,  41 
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.  46 

My  lore  is  bet  than  wikke  is  thy  grevaunce, 
And  eek  thou  hast  thy  beste  frend  alyve. 

III.       La      respounse      du      rLElNIIF 

couNTRE  Fortune. 
Thy  lore  I  dampne,  hit  is  adversitee. 
My  frend  maystow  nat  reven,  blind  god- 

desse !  50 

That  I  thy  frendes  knowe,  I  thanke  hit 

thee. 
Tak  hem  agayn,  lat  hem  go  lye  on  presse  ! 
The  negardye  in  kepiiig  hir  richesse 
Prenostik  is  thou  wolt  hir  tour  assayle; 
Wikke    appetyt    comth    ay    before    sek- 

nesse :  55 

In  general,  this  reule  may  nat  fayle. 

La    respounse    de    Fortune    countre    le 

Pleintif. 
Thou  pinchest  at  my  niutabilitee, 
For  I  thee  lente  a  drop  of  my  richesse, 
And  now  me  lyketh  to  with-drawe  me. 
Why  sholdestow  my  realtee  oppresse  ?  60 
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,  thexecucion  of  the  magestee  65 

That  al  purveyeth  of  his  rightwisnesse. 
That  same  thing  '  Fortune  '  clepen  ye, 
Ye  blinde  bestes,  full  of  lewednesse  ! 
The  hevene  hath  propretee  of  sikernesse. 
This  world  hath  ever  resteles  travayle; 
Thy  laste  day  is  ende  of  myn  intresse :  71 
In  general,  this  reule  may  nat  fayle. 

Lenvoy  de  Fortune. 
Princes,  I  prey  you  of  your  gentilesse, 
l>at  nat  this  man  on  me  thus  crye  and 

pleyne, 
And  I  shall  quyte  you  your  bisinesse     75 
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  betcr  estat  he  may  atteyne. 


Explicit. 


ii8 


THE   MINOR   rOEMS. 


XL     MERCILES   BEAUTE :    A  TRIPLE   ROUNDEL. 


I.    Captivity. 

Your  yen  two  wol  slee  me  sodenly, 
I  may  the  bcautc  of  hem  not  sustcne, 
So  vvoundeth  hit  through-out  my  herte 
kene. 

And  but  your  word  wol  helen  hastily 
My    hertes    wounde,    whyl    that    hit    is 
grene,  5 

Your  yen  two  wol  slee  me  sodenly, 
I  may  the  beaiite  of  hem  not  sustenc. 

Upon  my  trouthe  I  sey  yow  faithfully, 
That  ye  ben  of  my  lyf  and  deeth  the 

quene; 
For  with  my  deeth  the  trouthe  shal  be 
sene.  lo 

Your  yen  two  wol  slee  me  sodenly, 
I  may  the  beaute  of  lie  in  not  siistene. 
So  woundeth  hit  through-out  my  herte 
kene. 


II. 


So 


Rejection. 
beaute    fro    your 


herte 


hath    your 

chaced 
Pitee,  that  me  ne  availeth  not  to  pleyne; 
For    Daunger    halt   your   mercy   in   his 

cheyne.  i6 

Giltles  my  deeth  thus  han  ye  me  pur- 

chaced; 
I    sey   yow   sooth,    me    nedeth    not    to 

feyne; 


So   hath  your   beajiti  fro  your   herte 

chaced 
Pitee,  that  me  ne  availeth  not  to  pleyne. 


nature   hath   in  yow   com- 

21 

that 
he 


no    man    may 
sterve   for    the 


Alias!    that 
passed 
So    greet    beaute, 

atteyne 
To    mercy,    though 
peyne. 
So   hath  your   beaute  fro  your   herte 

chaced 
Pitee,  that  me  ne  availeth  not  to  pleyne; 
For  Daunger  halt  your  mercy  in  his 
cheyne.  26 

III.    Escape. 

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. 

He  may  answere,  and  seye  this  or  that; 

I  do  no  fors,  I  speke  right  as  I  mene.   31 
Sin  I  fro  Love  escaped  am  so  fat, 
I  never  thenk  to  ben  in  his  prison  lene. 

Love  hath  my  name  y-strike  out  of  his 

sclat. 
And  he  is  strike  out  of  my  bokes  clene  35 
For  ever-mo;    [ther]  is  non  other  mene. 
Sin  I  fro  Love  escaped  am  so  fat, 
/  never  thenk  to  ben  in  his  prison  lene; 
Sin  /  am  free,  /  counte  him  not  a 
bene. 


Explicit. 


XIL    TO   ROSEMOUNDE.     A  BALADE. 


Madame,  ye  ben  of  al  beaute  shryne 
As  fer  as  cercled  is  the  mappemounde; 
For  as  the  cristal  glorious  ye  shyne, 
And  lyke  ruby  ben  your  chekes  rounde. 
Thervvith  ye  ben  so  mery  and  so  iocounde, 
That  at   a   revel    whan    that    I    see    you 
daunce,  6 

It  is  an  oynement  unto  my  wounde, 
Thogh  ye  to  me  ne  do  no  daliaunce. 


For  thogh  I  wepe  of  teres  ful  a  tyne, 
Yet  may  that   wo   myn    herte    nat    con- 

founde;  lO 

Your  seemly  voys  that  ye  so  smal    out- 

twyne 
Maketh  my  thoght  in  loye  and  blis  ha- 

bounde. 
So  curteisly  I  go,  with  love  bounde, 
That  to  my-self  I  sey,  in  my  penaunce. 


XIV.     C.ENTILESSE. 


119 


Suffysetli  me  to  love  you,  Roscmounde, 
Thoyh  yc  to  me  ne  do  no  daliaunce.       16 

Nas  never  ]iyk  walwed  in  galaunlyne 
As  I  in  love  am  \vah\'ed  and  y-woundc; 
For  wliich  ful  ofle  I  of  my-self  divync 

Tregcntil. 


That  I  am  trewe  Tristam  the  secounde.  20 
My  love  may  not  rcfieyd  he  nor  afounde; 
I  brenne  ay  in  an  amorous  pksaunce. 
Do    what   you  list,   I    vvil  your   tliral    be 

founde, 
Thogli  ye  to  me  ne  do  no  daliaunce. 
Chancer. 


XIII.     TRUTH. 


BaLADE   DE  BON   CONSEYL. 

Fi.EK  fro  the  prees,  and  dwelle  with  soth- 

fastnesse, 
Suffyce    unto   thy    good,    though    hit  be 

smal; 
For  hord  hath  hate,  and  climbing  tikel- 

nesse, 
I'rees  hath  envye,  and  wele  blent  overal ; 
Savour  no  more  than  thee  bihove  shal;     5 
Werk  wel  thy-self,  that  other  folk  canst 

rctie; 
And  trouthe  shal  dclivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

Tempest   thee   noght   al    croked   to  re- 

dresse. 
In  trust  of  hir  that  turneth  as  a  bal : 
Gret  reste  slant  in  litel  besinesse;  10 

And  eek  be  war  to  sporne  ageyn  an  al; 
Stryve  noght,  as  doth   the   crokke   with 

the  wal. 
Daunte    thy-self,    that    dauntest    otheres 

dede; 
And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 


That   thee   is   sent,    receyve    in   buxum- 

nesse,  15 

The  wrastling  for  this  vvorlde  axeth  a  fal. 
Her  nis  non  hoom,  her  nis  but  wilder- 

nesse  : 
Forth,  pilgrim,  forth  !     Forth,  beste,   out 

of  thy  stal ! 
Know  thy  contree,  look  up,  thank  God 

of  al; 
Hold  the  hye  wey,  and  lat  thy  gost  thee 

lede :  20 

Aud  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

Envoy. 

Therfore,    thou    vache,    leve    thyn     old 

wrecchednesse 
Unto  the  vvorlde;   leve  now  to  be  thral; 
Crye  him  mercy,  that  of  his  hy  goodnesse 
Made  thee  of  noght,  and  in  especial     25 
Draw  unto  him,  and  pray  in  general 
For  thee,  and  eek   for   other,  hevenlich 

metle; 
And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 


Explicit  Le  bon  counseill  de  G.  Chaucer. 


XIV.     GENTILESSE. 


Moral  Balade  of  Chaucer. 

The  firste  stok,  fader  of  gentilesse  — 
What  man  that  claymeth  gen  til  for  to  be. 
Must  folowe  his  trace,  and  alle  his  wittes 

dresse 
Vertu  to  sewe,  and  vyces  for  to  flee. 
For  unto  vertu  longeth  dignitoe,  5 

And  noght  the  revers,  saufly  dar  I  deme, 
Al  were  he  mytre,  croune,  or  diademe. 


This  firste  stok  was  ful  of  right wisnesse, 
Trewe  of  his    word,    sobre,   pitous,   and 

free, 
Clene  of  his  goste,  and  loved  besinesse,  ID 
Ageinst  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;    15 


THE    MINOR    POEMS. 


But  ther  may  no   man,  as  men  may  wel 

see, 
Requethe  his  heir  his  vertuous  noblesse; 
That  is  appropred  unto  no  degree, 


But  to  the  firste  fader  in  magestee, 
That  niaiveth  him  his  heir,  that  can  him 
queme,  20 

Al  were  he  mytre,  croune,  or  diademe. 


XV.     LAK   OF   STEDFASTNESSE. 


Balade. 

Sdm  tyme  this  world  was  so  stedfast  and 

staijle 
That  mannes  word  was  obligacioun, 
And  now  hit  is  so  fals  and  deceivable. 
That  word  and  deed,  as  in  conclusioun, 
Ben  no-thing  lyk,  for  turned  up  so  doun  5 
Is    al    this   world    for    mede  and   wilful- 

nesse. 
That  al  is  lost  for  lak  of  stedfastnesse. 

What  maketh  this  world  to  be  so  variable 
But  lust  that  folk  have  in  dissensioun? 
Among  us  now  a  man  is  holde  unable,  10 
But-if  he  can,  by  som  collusioun, 
Don    his    neighbour    wrong    or    oppres- 

sioun. 
What  causeth  this,  but  wilful  wrecched- 

nesse. 
That  al  is  lost,  for  lak  of  stedfastnesse? 


Trouthe  is  put  doun,  resoun  is  holden 
fable ;  1 5 

Vertu  hath  now  no  dominacioun, 

Pitee  exyled,  no  man  is  mercialjle. 

Through  covetyse  is  blent  discrecioun; 

The  world  hath  mad  a  permutacioun 

Fro  right  to  wrong,  fro  trouthe  to  fikel- 
nesse,  20 

That  al  is  lost,  for  lak  of  stedfastnesse. 

Lenvoy  to  King  Richard. 

O  prince,  desyre  to  be  honourable. 
Cherish  thy  folk  and  hate  extorcioun ! 
Suffre  no  thing,  that  may  be  reprevable 
To  thyn  estat,  don  in  thy  regioun.         25 
Shew  forth  thy  swerd  of  castigacioun, 
Dred   God,    do    law,   love    trouthe    and 

worthinesse. 
And    wed    thy   folk    agein    to   stedfast- 
nesse. 


Explicit. 


XVI.     LENVOY   DE   CHAUCER  A   SCOGAN. 


To-broken  been  the  status  hye  in  hevene 
That  creat  were  eternally  to  dure, 
Sith  that  I  see  the  brighte  goddes  sevene 
Mow  wepe  and  wayle,  and  passioun  en- 
dure, 
As  may  in  erthe  a  mortal  creature.  5 

Alias,  fro  whennes  may  this  thing  precede? 
Of  whiche  errour  I  deye  almost  for  drede. 

By  worde  eterne  whylom  was  hit  shape 
That  fro  the  fifte  cercle,  in  no  manere, 
Ne  mightea  drope  of  teres  doun  escape.  10 
But  now  so  wepeth  Venus  in  hir  spere. 
That  with  hir  teres  she  wol  drenche  us 

here. 
Alias,  Scogan  !  this  is  for  thyn  offence  ! 
Thou  causest  this  deluge  of  pestilence. 


Hast  thou  not  seyd,  in  blaspheme  of  this 

goddes,  15 

Through    pryde,   or   through    thy   grete 

rakelnesse, 
Swich  thing  as  in  the  lawe  of  love  forbode 

is? 
That,  for  thy  lady  saw  nat  thy  distresse, 
Therfor    thou    yave    hir    up    at    Michel- 

messe ! 
Alias,  Scogan  !  of  olde  folk  ne  yonge    20 
Was    never    erst  Scogan  blamed  for  his 

tonge ! 

Thou  drowe  in  scorn  Cupyde  eek  to  re- 
cord 

Of  thilke  rebel  word  that  thou  hast 
spoken, 


XVII.    LENVOY    DE   CHAUCER    A    laKTON, 


121 


For  vvliich  he  wol  no  lcn<^cr  l)e  tliy  lord. 
And,    Scu^an,    tliugh   his    bowe    be    nat 
broken,  25 

He  wol  nat  with  his  arwes  been  y-wroken 
On  thee,  ne  me,  ne  noon  of  our  figure; 
We  shul  of  him  have  neyther  hurt  ne  cure. 

Now  certes,  frend,  I  drede  of  thyn  un- 
liappe. 

Lest  for  thy  gilt  the  wreche  of  Love  pro- 
cede  30 

On  alle  hem  tliat  ben  hore  and  rounde  of 
sliapc, 

That  lien  so  lykly  folk  in  love  to  spede. 

Than  shul  we  for  our  labour  han  no  mede; 

But  wel  I  wot,  thou  wilt  answere  and 
seye :  34 

*  Lo !  olde  Giisel  list  to  ryme  and  pleye  !  ' 

Nay,  Scogan,  sey  not  so,  for  I  mexcuse. 


(jod  help  me  so  !   in  no  ryin,  doutelees, 
Ne  thinke  I  never  of  slepe  wak  my  muse, 
That  rusteth  in  my  shethe  stille  in  pees. 
Whyl    I   was   yong,  I  putte   hir  forth    in 
prees,  40 

But  al  shal  passe  that  men  prose  or  ryme; 
Take  every  man  his  turn,  as  for  his  tyme. 

Envoy. 

Scogan,  that  knelest  at  the  stremes  heed 
Of  grace,  of  alle  honour  antl  worthinesse. 
In  thende  of  which  streme   I   am  dul  as 

deed,  45 

Forgete  in  solitarie  wildernesse; 
Yet,  Scogan,  thenke   on   TuUius  kinde- 

nesse, 
Minne  thy  frend,  ther  it  may  fructifye  ! 
Far-wel,  and  lok  thou  never  eft  Love  de- 

fye! 


XVII.     LENVOY    DE   CHAUCER   A    BUKTON. 


The  counseil  of  Chaucer  touching 
Makiagk,  which  was  sent  to 

BUKTON. 

My  maister  Bukton,  whan  of  Criste  our 

kinge 
Was   axed,  what   is   trouthe  or  sothfast- 

nesse. 
He  nat  a  word  ansvverde  to  that  axinge. 
As  who    saith :   '  no    man   is  al  trewe,'  I 

gesse. 
And  iherfor,  thogh  I  highte  to  expresse  5 
The  sorwe  and  wo  that  is  in  mariage, 
1  dar  not  wryte  of  hit  no  wikkednesse. 
Lest  I  my-self  falle  eft  in  swich  dotage. 

I  wol  nat  seyn,  how  that  hit  is  the  cheyne 
Of  Sathanas,  on  which  hegnaweth  ever,  10 
But  I  dar  seyn,  were  he  out  of  his  peyne. 
As  by  his  wille,  he  wolde  be  bounde  never. 
But  thilke  doted  fool  that  eft  hath  lever 
Y-cheyned  be  than  out  of  prisoun  crepe, 
(lod  lete  him  never  fro  his  wo  dissever,  15 
Ne  no  man  him  bewayle,  though  he  wepe. 


But  yit,  lest  thou  do  worse,  tak  a  wyf; 
Bet  is  to  wedde,  than    brenne  in  worse 

wyse. 
But  thou  shall  have  sorwe  on  thy  flesh, 

thy  lyf. 
And  been  thy  wyves  thral,  as  seyn  these 

wyse,  20 

And  if  that  holy  writ  may  nat  suffyse. 
Experience    shal    thee    teche,    so    may 

happe. 
That  thee  were  lever  to  be  take  in  Fryse 
Than  eft  to  falle  of  wedding  in  the  trappe. 


Envoy. 


25 


This  litel  writ,  proverbes,  or  figure 
I  sende  you,  tak  kepe  of  hit,  I  rede: 
Unwys  is  he  that  can  no  wele  endure. 
If  thou  be  siker,  put  thee  nat  in  drede. 
The   Wyf  of  Bathe  I  pray  you  that  ye 

rede 
Of  this  matere  that  we  have  on  honde.  30 
Cod  graunte  you  your  lyf  frely  to  lede 
In  fredom;   for  ful  hard  is  to  be  bonde. 


Explicit, 


THE    MINOR   POEMS. 


XVIII.     THE   COMPLEYNT   OF   VENUS. 


I.     (The  Lover's  worthiness.) 

Ther  nis  so  hy  comfort  to  my  plesaunce, 
Whan  that  I  am  in  any  hevinesse, 
As  for  to  have  leyser  of  remembraunce 
Upon  the  nianhoil  and  the  worthinesse, 
Upon    the  trouthe,  and  on  the  stedfast- 
nesse  5 

Of  him  whos  I  am  al,  whyl  I  may  dure; 
Ther  oghte  blame  me  no  creature, 
For  every  wight  preiseth  his  gentilesse. 

In  him  is  bountee,  wisdom,  governaunce 
Wei    more    then    any    mannes    wit    can 

gesse;  10 

For    grace    hath    wold    so    ferforth    him 

avaunce 
That  of  knighthode  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,      15 
For  every  wight  preiseth  his  gentilesse. 

And  not-withstanding  al  his  suffisaunce, 
His  gentil  herte  is  of  so  greet  humblesse 
To  me  in  worde,  in  werke,in  contenaunce. 
And  me  to  serve  is  al  his  besinesse,       20 
That  I  am  set  in  verrey  sikernesse. 
Thus  oghte  I  blesse  wel  myn  aventure, 
Sith  that  him  list  me  serven  and  honoure; 
P'or  every  wight  preiseth  his  gentilesse. 

II.  (Disquietude  caused  by  Jealousy.) 

Now  certes,  Love,  hit  is  right  coven- 
able  25 

That  men  ful  dere  bye  thy  noble  thing. 

As  wake  a-bedde,  and  fasten  at  the 
tal)le, 

Weping  tu  laughe,  and  singe  in  compleyn- 

And  doun  to  caste  visage  and  loking, 

Often  to  chaungen  hewe  and  conte- 
naunce, 30 

Pleyne  in  sleping,  and  dremen  at  the 
daunce, 

Al  the  revers  of  any  glad  feling. 

lalousye  be  hanged  by  a  caVile  ! 

She  wolde  al  knowe  through  hir  espying; 


Ther  doth  no  wight  no-thing  so  reason- 
aljle,  35 

That  al  nis  harm  in  hir  imagening. 
Thus  dere  ai)ought  is  love  in  yeving. 
Which    ofte  he    yiveth  with-outen    ordi- 

naunce. 
As  sorow  ynogh,  and  litel  of  plesaunce, 
Al  the  revers  of  any  glad  feling.  40 

A  litel  tyme  his  yift  is  agreable, 
But  ful  encomberous  is  the  using; 
P^or  sotel  lalousye,  the  deceyvable, 
Ful  often-tyme  causeth  destourbing. 
Thus  be  we  ever  in  drede  anr]  suffering. 
In   nouncerteyn   we    languisshe   in    pen- 

aunce,  46 

And  han  ful  often  many  an  hard  mes- 

chaunce, 
Al  the  revers  of  any  glad  feling. 

III.     (Satisfaction  in  Constancy.) 

But  certes,  Love,  I  sey  nat  in  such  wyse 
That    for    tescape    out    of    your    lace    I 

mente;  50 

For  I  so  longe  have  been  in  your  servyse 
That  for  to  lete  of  wol  I  never  assente; 
No  force  thogh  lalousye  me  tormente; 
Suffyceth  me  to  see  him  whan  I  may. 
And  therfore  certes,  to  myn  ending-day 
To    love    him    best  ne   shal  I  never  re- 

pente.  56 

And  certes.  Love,  whan  I  me  wel  avyse 
On  any  estat  that  man  may  represente. 
Than  have  ye  maked  me,  through  your 

franchyse, 
Chese  the  best  that  ever  on  erthe  wente. 
Now  love  wel,  herte,  and  look  thou  never 

stente;  61 

And  let  the  lelous  putte  hit  in  assay 
That,  for  no  peyne  wol  I  nat  sey  nay; 
To  love  him  best  ne  shal  I  never  repente. 

Herte,  to  thee  hit  oghte  y-nogh  suffyse. 
That  Love  so  hy  a  grace  to  thee  sente. 
To  chese  the  worthiest  in  alle  wyse 
And  most  agreable  unto  myn  entente. 
Seche  no  ferther,  neyther  wey  ne  wente, 
Sith  I  have  suffisaunce  unto  my  pay.     70 


XX.     I'ROVERBS. 


123 


'I'lius  wul  I  eiule  this  compleynt  or  lay ; 
To  love  hiiu  best  ne  slial  I  never  repeiite. 

Lenvoy. 

Princess,  reccyveth  this  compleynt  in  gree, 
Unto  your  excellent  l)enignitec 

Direct  after  my  litel  sutlisaunce.  75 

For  eld,  that  in  my  spirit  duUeth  me, 


Hath  of  endyting  al  the  soteltee 

W'cl    ny    bereft    out    of    my    remcm- 

braunce; 
And  eek    to  me   hit  is  a  greet  pen- 
aunce,  79 

Sith  rym  in  English  hath  swich  scarsitee, 
To  folowe  word  l)y  word  the  curiositee 
Of  CJraunson,  flour  of  hem  that  make 
in  Fraunce. 


XIX.    THE   COMPLEINT  OF  CHAUCER  TO   HIS   EMPTY 

PURSE. 


To  you,  my  purse,  and  to  non  other  wight 
Compleyne  I,  for  ye  be  my  lady  dere ! 
I  am  so  sory,  now  that  ye  be  light; 
For  certes,  but  ye  make  me  hevy  chere, 
Me  were  as  leef  be  leyd  u[)-on  my  here;  5 
For  whiche  un-toyour  mercy  thus  I  crye  : 
Beth  hevy  ageyn,  or  elles  mot  I  dye  ! 

Now  vouchcth  sauf  this  day,  or  hit   be 

night, 
That  I  of  you  the  blisful  soun  may  here, 
Or  see  your  colour  lyk  the  sonne  bright. 
That  of  yelownesse  hadde  never  pere.  Ii 
Ye  lie  my  lyf,  ye  be  myn  hertes  stere, 
Quene  of  comfort  and  of  good  companye  : 
Beth  hevy  ageyn,  or  elles  mot  I  dye !    14 


Now  purs,  that  be  to  me  my  lyves  light, 
And  saveour,  as  doun  in  this  worlde  here, 
Out  of  this  toune  help  me  through  your 

might, 
Sin  that  ye  wole  nat  been  my  tresorere; 
For  I  am  shave  as  nye  as  any  frere. 
Rut  yit  I  pray  un-to  your  curtesye :        20 
Betli  hevy  ageyn,  or  elles  mot  I  dye  ! 

Lenvoy  de  Chaucer. 

O  conquerour  of  Brutes  Albioun  ! 
Which  that  by  lyne  and  free  eleccioun 
Ben  verray  king,  this  song  to  you  I  sende; 
And  ye,  that  mowen  al  our  harm  amende, 
Have  minde  up-on  my  supplicacioun !  26 


XX.     PROVERBS. 

Proverbe  of  Chaucer. 


I. 

What  shul  thise  clothes  many-fold, 
Lo  !   this  hote  somers  day?  — 

After  greet  heet  cometh  cold; 
No  man  caste  his  pilche  away. 


n. 


Of  al  this  world  the  wyde  compas  5 

Hit  wol  not  in  myn  amies  tweyne. — 

Who-so  mochel  wol  embrace 
Litel  therof  he  shal  distreyne. 


124 


THE   MINOR   rOEMS. 


[  T/ie  followitij^  Poems  are  also  probably  t^t'iatiiic ;  but  lack  external  evidence.'\ 

XXI.     AGAINST  WOMEN   UNCONSTANT. 

Balade. 


Madame,  for  your  newe-fangelnesse, 
Many  a   servaunt   have   ye   put   out   of 

grace, 
I  take  my  leva  of  your  unstedfastnesse, 
I'or    wel    I    wot,   whyl    ye    have    lyves 

space, 
\'e  can  not  love  ful  half  yeer  in  a  place; 
To  newe  thing  your  lust  is  ever  kene;     6 
In  stede  of  blew,  thus  may  ye  were  al 

grene. 

Right  as  a  mirour  nothing  may  enpresse, 
But,  lightly  as  it  cometh,  so  mot  it  pace. 
So  fareth  your  love,  your  werkes  bereth 

witnesse.  lo 

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  brotel- 

nesse,  15 

Bet  than  Dalyda,  Creseide  or  Candace; 
For  ever  in  chaunging  stant  your  siker- 

nesse. 
That  tache  may  no  wight  fro  your  herte 

arace; 
If  ye  lese  oon,  ye  can  wel  tweyn  pur- 

chace; 
Al  light  for  somer,  ye  woot  wel  what  I 

mene,  20 

In  stede  of  blew,  thus  may  ye  were   al 

grene. 


Explicit. 


XXII.     AN   AMOROUS  COMPLEINT. 
(COMPLEINT   DAMOURS.) 


An    amorous    Compleint,    made    at 
Windsor. 

I,  WHICH  that  am  the  sorwefulleste  man 
That  in  this  world  was  ever  yit  livinge. 
And  leest  recoverer  of  him-selven  can, 
Beginne  thus  my  deadly  compleininge 
On   hir,   that  may  to  lyf  and  deeth  me 

bringe,  5 

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, 
[For]     certes,    now,    alias !     alias !    the 

whyle ! 
Your  plesaunce  is   to   laughen  whan    I 

syke,  10 

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  thing  possil:)le  to  do  16 
Tacompte  youre  beutee  and  goodnesse, 
I  have  no  wonder  thogh  ye  do  me  wo; 
Sith  I,  thunworthiest  that  may  ryde  or  go, 
Durste  ever  thinken  in  so  hy  a  place,  20 
What  wonder  is,  thogh  ye  do  me  no 
grace? 

Alias !  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,  26 
I  sey  for  me,  for  al  my  deedly  chere, 
Alle  thise  diden,  in  that,  me  love  yow  dere. 

And  in  this  wyse  and  in  dispayre  I  live 
In  love;   nay,  but  in  dispayre  I  dye  !     30 


XXII.     AN   AMOROUS  COMPLEINT. 


125 


l!ut  shal  I  thus  [to]  yow  my  deeth  for- 
give, 

That  causeles  doth  me  this  sorow  drye? 

Ve,  ccrtes,  I !     For  she  of  my  folye 

Hath  nought  to  done,  although  she  do 
me  sterve;  34 

Hit  is  nat  with  hir  wil  tliat  I  hir  serve ! 

Than  sith  I  am  of  my  sorowe  the  cause 
And  sith  that  I  have  this,  withoute  hir 

reed, 
Than    may    I    seyn,    right    shortly    in    a 

clause, 
It  is  no  blame  unto  hir  womanheed 
Though  swich  a  wrecche  as  I  be  for  hir 

deed ;  40 

[And]  yet  alwey  two  thinges  doon  me 

dye, 
That  is  to  seyn,  hir  beutee  and  myn  ye. 

So  that,  algates,  she  is  the  verray  rote 
Of  my  disese,  and  of  my  dethe  also; 
For  with  oon  word  she  mighte  be  my 

bote,  45 

If  that  she  vouched  sauf  for  to  do  so. 
But  [why]  than  is  hir  gladnesse  at  my 

wo? 
It  is  hir  wone  pleasaunce  for  to  take, 
To  seen  hir  servaunts  dyen  for  hir  sake  ! 

But  certes,  than  is  al  my  wonderinge,  50 
Sithen  she  is  the  fayrest  creature 
As  to  my  dome,  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?      55 
It  was,  y-wis,  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, 
Sithen    that   she   doth    othere    men    the 

same,  60 

I  ne  oughte  to  despyse  my  ladies  game; 
It    is    hir   pley   to   laughen   whan   men 

syketh, 


And     I     assente,    al    that    hir    list    and 
lyketh ! 

Yit    wolde    I,  as    I    dar,    with    sorweful 

herte 
Biseche  un-to  your  meke  womanhede  65 
That    I    now  dorste    my  sharpe   sorwes 

smerte 
Shewe  by  worde,  that  ye  wolde  ones  rede 
The  pleynte  of  me,  the  which  ful  sore 

drede 
That    I    have    seid    here,    through    myn 

unconninge, 
In  any  worde  to  your  displesinge.  70 

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  on  yow  have  pleyned 

here,  76 

Forgiveth  it  me,  myn  owne  lady  dere ! 

Ever  have  I  been,  and  shal,  how-so   I 

wende, 
Outher  to  live  or  dye,  your  humble  trewe; 
Ye    been   to   me   my  ginning  and  myn 

ende,  80 

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  compleynt  on  seint  Valentynes  day. 
Whan  every  foul  [ther]  chesen  shal  his 

make,  86 

To  hir,  whos  I  am  hool,  and  shal  alwey, 
This  woful  song  and  this   compleynt  I 

make, 
That  never  yit  wolde  me  to  mercy  take; 
And  yit  wol  I  [for]  evermore  her  serve 
And  love  hir  Ijest,  although  she  do  me 

sterve.  91 


Explicit. 


126 


THE   MINOR   rOEMS. 


XXIII.     A   BALADE   OF   COMPLEYNT, 


CoMPLKYNE    ne    coude,    ne    might    niyn 

herte  never 
My    peynes    halve,   ne    what    torment    I 

have, 
Though  that  I  sholde  in  your  presence 

ben  ever, 
My  hertes  lady,  as  wisly  he  me  save 
That  bountee  made,  and  beutee    list  to 

grave  5 

In    your    persone,  and    bad    hem    bothe 

in-fere 
Ever  tavvayte,  and  ay  be  wher  ye  were. 

As  wisly  he  gye  alle  my  loyes  here 
As  I  am   youres,  and   to    yovv    sad    and 
trewe 


And  ye,  my  lyf  and  cause  of   my  good 

chere,  lO 

And  deeth  also,  whan  ye  my  peynes  nevve, 

My  worldes  loye,  whom  I  wol  serve  and 

sevve. 
My  heven  hool,  and  al  my  suffisaunce. 
Whom  for  to  serve  is  set  al  my  plesaunce. 

Beseching  yow  in  my  most  humble  wyse 
Taccepte  in  worth  thislitel  povre  dyte,  1 6 
And    for    my    trouthe    my    service    nat 

despyse, 
Myn  observaunce  eek  have  nat  in  despyte, 
Ne  yit  to  long  to  suffren  in  this  plyte, 
I  yow  besech,  myn  hertes  lady  dere,      20 
Sith  I  yow  serve,  and  so  wil  yeer  by  yere. 


XXIV.     WOMANLY   NOBLESSE. 


Balade  that  Chaucier  made. 

So  hath  my  herte  caught  in  remembraunce 

Your    beaute   hool,  and    stedfast    gover- 

naunce, 

Your  vertues  alle,  and  your  hy  nol^lesse, 

That  you  to  serve  is  set  al  my  plesaunce; 

So  wel  me  lykth   your  womanly  conte- 

naunce,  5 

Your  fresshe  fetures  and  your  conili- 

nesse, 
That,    whyl   I    live,    my    herte    to    his 
maistresse. 
You    hath    ful    chose,  in    trew  persever- 
aunce, 
Never  to  chaunge,  for  no  maner  dis- 
tresse. 

And   sith   I    [you]    shal   do    this    obser- 
vaunce lo 
Al  my  lyf,  withouten  displesaunce, 

You  for  to  serve  with  al  my  besinesse, 

[Taketh  me,  lady,  in  your  obeisaunce,] 

And    have    me  somwhat   in  your  souve- 

naunce. 

My  woful  herte  suffreth  greet  duresse; 

And    [loke]    how  humhl[el]y,  with   al 

simplesse,  i6 


My  wil  I  conforme  to  your  ordenaunce. 
As  you  best  list,  my  peynes  to  redresse. 

Considring  eek  how  I  hange  in  balaunce 
In     your    servyse;      swich,    lo !     is    my 
chaunce,  20 

Abyding  grace,  whan  that  your  gentil- 
nesse 
Of  my  gret  wo  list  doon  allegeaunce. 
And  with  your  pile  me  som  wyse  avaunce, 
In  ful  rebating  of  my  hevinesse; 
And     thinkth,    by    reson,    wommanly 
noblesse  25 

Shuld  nat  desyre  for  to  doon  outrance 
Ther-as   she    findeth  noon   unbuxum- 
nesse. 

Lenvoye. 

Auctour  of  norture,  lady  of  plesaunce, 
Soveraine  of  beaute,  flour  of  womman- 
hede,  29 

Take  ye  mon  hede  unto  myn  ignoraunce, 
But  this  receyveth  of  your  goodlihede. 
Thinking  that  I  have  caught  in  remem- 
braunce 
Your  beaute    hool,  your    stedfast  gover- 
naunce. 


XXVI.     COMPLAINT  TO  MY   LODE-STERRE. 


127 


XXV.     COMPLAINT  TO    MY   MORTAL   FOE. 


Al    hoolly    youres,    withouten     otheres 
part ! 
Wlierefore?   y-\vis,   that   I    ne   can   ne 
may 
My  service  chaungen;    thus  of  al  suche 
art 
The  leriiinge    I    dcsyre   for    ever    and 

ay. 
And  evermore,  whyl  that  I  Hve  may,  5 
In    trouthe    I    wol    your   servante   stille 
abyde. 
Although  my  wo  encrcse  day  l)y  day, 
Til  that  to  me  be  come  the  dcthcs  tyde. 

Saint  Valentyne  !  to  you  I  renovele 
My   woful    lyf,    as    I    can,    compleyn- 
inge;  10 

But,  as  me  thinketh,  to  you  a  quarele 
Riglit  greet  I  have,  whan  I,  remem- 

bcringe 
Bitwene,  how  kinde,  ayeins  the  yeres 
springe. 
Upon  your  day,  doth  ech  foul  chese  his 
make; 
And  you  list  not  in  swich  comfort  me 
bringe,  15 

That  to  her  grace  my  lady  shulde   me 
take. 


Wherfor  unto  you,  Cupide,  I  beseche, 
Furth    with    Venus,   noble    lusty   god- 
desse, 
Sith  ye  may  best  my  sorowe  lesse  and 
eche; 
And  I,  your  man,  oppressed  with  dis- 
tresse,  20 

Can  not  crye  '  help !  '  but  to  your  gen- 
tilnesse : 
So  V(Hichcth  sauf,  sith  I,  your  man,  w(j1 
dye, 
My    ladies    herte    in    pite    folde    and 
presse, 
That  of  my  peyne  I  finde  remedye. 

To  your  conning,  my  hertes  right  prin- 
cesse,  25 

My  mortal  fo,  whiche  I  best  love  antl 
serve, 
I  recommaunde  my  boistous  lewednesse. 
And,  for  I  can  not  altherliest  deserve 
Your  grace,  I  preye,  as  he  that  wol  nat 
swerve. 
That  I  may  fare  the  better  for  my  trouthe ; 
Sith  I  am  youres,   til   deth  my  herte 
kerve,  31 

On  me,  your  man,  now  mercy  have  and 
routhe. 


XXVL     COMPLAINT  TO   MY  LODE-STERRE. 


Of  gretter  cause  may  no  wight  him  com- 
pleyne 
Than  I ;   for  love  hath  set  me  in  swich 
caas 
That   lasse    loye   and   more    encrees   of 
peyne 
Ne   hath   no   man;    wherfore    I    crye 

'  alias ! ' 
A  thousand  tyme,  whan  I  have  tyme 
and  space.  5 

For    she,    that    is    my    verray    sorowes 

grounde, 
Wol  with  lier  grace  no  wyse  my  sorowes 
sounde. 

And  that,  shulde  be  my  sorowes  hertes 
leche, 


Is  me  ageins,  and   maketh   me  swich 

werre, 

That  shortly,  [in]  al  maner  thought  and 

speche,  10 

Whether  it  be  that  I  be  nigh  or  ferre, 

I   misse    the  grace  of  you,  my  lode- 

sterre. 

Which  causeth  me  on  you  thus  for  to 

crye; 
And  al  is  it  for  lakke  of  remedye. 

My  soverain  Toye  thus  is  my  mortal  fo;  15 
She  that  shulde  causen  al  my  lustinesse, 

List  in  no  wyse  of  my  sorowes  saye  'ho  ! ' 
But  let  me  thus  darraine,  in  hevinesse. 
With  woful  thoughtes  and  my  grete 
distresse, 


128 


THE   MINOR   POEMS. 


The  which  she  might  right  wele,    [at] 
every  tyde,  20 

If  that  her  liste,  out  of  my  herte  gyde. 

But  it  is  so,  that  her  list,  in  no  wyse, 
Have  pile  on  my  vvoful  besinesse; 
And  I  ne  can  do  no  nianer  servyse 
That  may  me  torne  out  of  my  hevi- 
nesse;  25 

So   wolde    god,    that    she    now   wolde 
impresse 
Right  in  her  herte  my  trouthe  and  eek 

good  wille; 
And  let  me  not,  for  lakke  of  mercy,  spille. 

Now   wele   I   woot    why    thus    I    smerte 

sore; 

For  couthe   I  wele,  as  othere  folkes, 

feyne,  30 

Than  neded  me  to  live  in  peyne  no  more, 

But,  whan  I  were  from  you,  unteye  my 

reyne, 


And,  for  the  tyme,  drawe  in  another 

cheyne. 
But    wolde    god    that    alle    svvich    were 

y-knowe, 
And  ducly  punisshed  of  hye  and  lowe.  35 

Swich  lyf  defye  I,  bothe  in  thoughte  and 
worde, 
For  yet  me  were  wel  lever  for  to  sterve 

Than  in  my  herte  for  to  make  an  horde 
Of  any  falshood;    for,  til  deth  to-kerve 
My  herte  and  body,  shal  I  never  swerve 

From  you,  that  best  may  be  my  final  cure, 

But,  at  your  liste,  abyde  myn  aventure; 

And  preye  to  you,  noble  seint  Valentyne, 
My  ladies  herte  that  ye  wolde  enbrace. 

And  make  her  pile  to  me  more  enclyne 
That  I  maystonden  in  her  noble  grace 
In  hasty  time,  whyl  I  have  lyves  space  : 

For  yit  wiste  I  never  noon,  of  my  lyve, 

So  litel  hony  in  so  fayre  hyve,  49 


BOETHIUS    DE    CONSOLATIONE 
PHILOSOPHIE. 


BOOK  I. 


Metre  I. 


Carmina    qui   quondam    studio  Jlo- 
rente  percgi. 

Al.LAS  !  I,  weping,  am  constreined 
to  higinnen  vers  of  sorowful  matere, 
that  \vhylom  in  florisching  studie 
made  delitable  ditees.  For  lo  !  ren- 
5  dinge  Muses  of  poetes  endyten  to 
me  thinges  to  be  writen;  and  drery 
vers  of  wrecchednesse  weten  my  face 
with  verray  teres.  At  the  leeste, 
no  drede  ne  mighte  overcomen   tho 

10  Muses,  that  they  ne  weren  felawes, 
and  folvveden  my  wey,  that  is  to 
seyn,  'whan  I  was  exyled ;  they  that 
weren  glorie  of  my  youth e,  whylom 
weleful    and    grene,    comforten    now 

15  the  sorowful  vverdes  of  me,  olde  man. 
For  elde  is  comen  unwarly  upon  me, 
hasted  by  the  harmes  that  1  have, 
and  sorow  hath  comaunded  his  age 
to  be  in  me.     Heres  hore  ben  shari 

20  overtymeliche  upon  myn  heved,  and 
the  slake  skin  trembleth  upon  myn 
empted  body.  Thilke  deeth  of  men 
is  weleful  that  ne  cometh  not  in 
yeres    that    ben    swete,    but    cometh 

25  to  wrecches,  often  y-cleped. 

Alias  I  alias !  with  how  deef  an 
ere  deeth,  cruel,  torneth  awey  fro 
wrecches,  and  naiteth  to  closen 
wepinge    eyen  !     Whyl   i-ortune,  un- 

30  feithful,  favorede  me  with  lighte 
goodes,  the  sorowful  houre,  that  is 
to  seyn,  the  deeth,  hadde  almost 
dreynt  myn  heved.  But  now,  for 
Fortune   cloudy    hath    chaunged    hir 

35  deceyvable  chere   to    me-ward,    myn 


unpitous  lyf  draweth  a-long  unagre- 
able  dwellinges  /«  me.  O  ye,  my 
frendes,  what  or  wherto  avauntede 
ye  me  to  ben  weleful?  for  he  that 
hath  fallen  stood  nat  in  stedefast  de-  40 
gree. 

Prose  I. 

Hec  dum   mecum  tacitus  ipse  repu- 
tarem. 

Whyle  that  I  stille  recordede  thise 
thinges  with  my-self,  and  markede 
my  weeply  compleynte  with  office  of 
pointel,  I  saw,  stondinge  aboven  the 
heighte  of  myn  heved,  a  woman  of  5 
ful  greet  reverence  by  semlilaunt,  hir 
eyen  brenninge  and  cleer-seinge  over 
the  comune  might  of  men;  with  a 
lyfiy  colour,  and  with  swich  vigour 
and  strengthe  that  it  ne  mighte  nat  10 
ben  empteil;  al  were  it  so  that  she 
was  ful  of  so  greet  age,  that  men  ne 
wolde  nat  trowen,  in  no  manere,  that 
she  were  of  oure  elde.  The  stature 
of  hir  was  of  a  doutous  lugement;  15 
for  som-tyme  she  constreinede  and 
shronk  hir-selven  lyk  to  the  comune 
mesure  of  men,  and  sum-tyme  it 
semede  that  slie  touchede  the  hevene 
with  the  heighte  of  hir  heved;  and  20 
whan  she  heef  hir  heved  hyer,  she 
percede  the  selve  hevene,  so  that 
the  sighte  of  men  looking  was  in 
ydel.  Hir  clothes  weren  maked  of 
right  delve  thredes  and  subtil  crafte,  25 
of  perdurable  matere;  the  whiche 
clothes  she  hadde  woven  with  hir 
owene  hondes,  as   I  knew  wel   after 


129 


I30 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   I. 


by  liir-self,  declaringe  and  shewinge 

30  to  me  the  btautee;  the  whiche 
clothes  a  derknesse  of  a  forleten  and 
dispysed  elde  hadde  dusked  and 
derkcd,  as  it  is  wont  to  derken  bi- 
stnolcede  images. 

35  In  the  nethereste  hem  or  bordure 
of  thise  clothes  men  redden,  y-woven 
in,  a  Grekissh  P,  that  signifyelh  the 
lyf  Actif ;  and  aboven  that  lettre,  in 
the   heyeste   bordure,   a   Grekissh  T, 

40  that  signifyeth  the  lyf  Contcmplalif. 
And  bi-tvvixen  these  two  lettres  ther 
weren  seyn  degrees,  nobly  y-wroght 
in  manere  ofladdres;  by  whiche  de- 
grees  men  mighten  climben  fro  the 

45  nethereste  lettre  to  the  uppereste. 
Natheles,  handes  of  some  men  hadde 
corven  that  cloth  by  violence  and  by 
strengthe;  and  everiche  man  of  hem 
hadde  born  awey  swiche  peces  as  he 

50  mighte  geten.  And  forsothe,  this 
forseide  woman  bar  smale  bokes  in 
hir  right  hand,  and  in  hir  left  hand 
she  bar  a  ceptre. 

And  whan   she   say   thise   poetical 

55  Muses  aprochen  aboute  my  bed,  and 
endytinge  wordes  to  my  wepinges, 
she  was  a  litel  amoved,  and  glowede 
with  cruel  eyen.  '  Who,'  quod  she, 
'  hath   suffred  aprochen   to   this  syke 

60  man  thise  comune  strompetes  of  swich 
a  place  that  men  clepen  the  thea- 
tre? The  whiche  nat  only  ne 
asswagen  nat  hise  sorwes  with  none 
remedies,  but  they  wolden  feden  and 

65  norisshen  hem  with  swete  venim. 
Forsothe,  thise  ben  tho  that  with 
thornes  and  prikkinges  of  talents  or 
affecciouns,  whiche  that  ne  ben  no- 
thing    fructefyinge     nor     profitable, 

70  deslroyen  the  corn  plentevous  of 
fruites  of  resoun;  for  they  holden 
the  hertes  of  men  in  usage,  l)ut  they 
ne  delivere  nat  folk  fro  maladye.  But 
if  ye  Muses  hadden   withdrawen  fro 

75  me,  with  your  flateryes,  any  uncun- 
ninge  and  unprofitable  man,  as  men 
ben  wont  to  finde  comunly  amonges 
the  poeple,  I  wolde  wene  suffre  the 
lasse  grevously ;  for-why,  in  swiche  an 

So  unprofitable  man,  myn  ententes  ne 
weren  no-thing  endamaged.     But  ye 


withdrawen  me  this  man,  that  hath 
be  norisshed  in  the  stutlies  or  scoles 
of  Eleaticis  and  of  Achademicis  in 
Grece.  I'ut  goth  now  rather  awey,  85 
ye  mermaidenes,  whiche  that  ben 
swete  til  it  be  at  the  laste,  and  suf- 
freth  this  man  to  be  cured  and  heled 
by  myne  Muses,'  that  is  to  seyn,  by 
noteful  sciences.  90 

And  thus  this  companye  of  Muses 
y-blamed  casten  wrothly  the  chere 
dounward  to  the  erthe;  and,  shewinge 
by  reednesse  hir  shame,  they  passeden 
soro^'fully  the  threshfold.  95 

And  I,  of  whom  the  sighte, 
plounged  in  teres,  was  derked  so 
that  I  ne  mighte  not  knowen  what 
that  womman  was,  of  so  imperial 
auctoritee,  I  wex  al  abaisshed  and  100 
astoned,  and  caste  my  sighte  doun 
to  the  erthe,  and  bigan  stille  for  to 
abyde  what  she  wolde  don  afterward. 
Tho  com  she  ner,  and  sette  hir  doun 
up-on  the  uttereste  corner  of  my  bed;  105 
and  she,  Ijiholdinge  my  chere,  that 
was  cast  to  the  erthe,  hevy  and  grev- 
ous  of  wepinge,  compleinede,  with 
thise  wordes  that  I  shal  seyen,  the 
perturbacioun  of  my  thought.  no 

Metre  II. 

Heti  qiiam  precipiti  mersa  profunda. 

'  Alias !  how  the  thought  of  man, 
dreint  in  over-throwinge  deepnesse, 
dulleth,  and  forleteth  his  propre  cleer- 
nesse,  mintinge  to  goon  in-to  foreine 
derknesses,  as  ofte  as  his  anoyous  5 
bisinesse  wexeth  with-oute  mesure, 
that  is  driven  to  and  fro  with 
worldly  windes !  This  man,  that 
whylom  was  free,  to  whom  the  hevene 
was  open  and  knowen,  and  was  wont  10 
to  goon  in  heveneliche  pathes,  and 
saugh  the  lightnesse  of  the  rede 
Sonne,  and  saugh  the  sterres  of  the 
colde  mone,  and  whiche  sterre  in 
hevene  useth  wandering  recourses,  15 
y-flit  by  dyverse  speres  —  this  man, 
overcomer,  hadde  comprehended  al 
this  by  noumbre  of  acountinge  in  as- 
tronomye.  And  over  this,  he  was 
wont  to  seken  the   causes  whennes   20 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   I. 


131 


the  st)uning  wiiuies  nioeven  and 
bisien  tlic  smothe  water  of  the  see; 
and  what  spirit  torncth  the  stalile 
hcvene;    aiul  why  the  sterre  aryseth 

25  out  of  the  rede  eest,  to  fallen  in  the 
westrene  wawes;  and  what  atenipreth 
the  lusty  houres  of  the  lirste  somer 
sesoun,  that  highteth  and  apparaileth 
the  erthe  witii   rosene    flowres;    and 

30  wlio  maketh  that  plentevuuse  au- 
tonipne,  in  fulle  yercs,  tleteth  witii 
bevy  grapes.  And  eek  this  man  was 
wont  to  telle  the  dyverse  causes  of 
nature  that  weren   y-hidde.     Alias ! 

35  now  lyeth  he  empted  of  light  of 
his  thought;  and  his  nekke  is  pressed 
with  hevy  cheynes;  and  bereth  his 
chere  enclyned  adoun  for  the  grete 
weighte,  anil  is  constreined  to  looken 

40  on  the  fool  erthe  ! 

Prose  II. 

Set  medicine,  iniqttit,  iempiis  est. 

But  tyme  is  now,'  quod  she,  'of 
medicine  more  than  of  compleinte.' 
P'orsothe  than  she,  entendinge  to 
me-ward  with  alle  tlie  lookinge  of  hir 
5  eyen,  seide  :  —  '  Art  nat  thou  he,' 
quod  she,  '  that  whylom  y-norisshed 
with  my  milk,  and  fostered  with  myne 
metes,  were  escaped  and  comen  to 
corage  of  a  parlit  man?      Certes,  I 

10  yaf  thee  swiche  armures  that,  yif  thou 
thy-self  ne  haddest  first  cast  hem 
a-wey,  they  shulden  han  defended  thee 
in  sikernesse  that  may  nat  ben  over- 
comen.       Knowest     thou     me     nat? 

15  Why  art  thou  stille?  Is  it  for  shame 
or  for  astoninge?  It  were  me  lever 
that  it  were  for  shame;  but  it  semeth 
me  that  astoninge  hath  oppressed 
thee.'     And    whan    she    say    me   nat 

20  only  stille,  but  with-outen  office  of 
tunge  and  al  doumb,  she  leide  hir 
hand  softely  upon  my  brest,  and 
seide  :  '  Here  nis  no  peril,'  quod  she; 
'he   is  fallen  into  a  litargie,   whiche 

25  that  is  a  comune  sykenes  to  hertes 
that  ben  deceived.  He  hath  a  litel 
furyeten  him-self,  but  certes  he  shal 
lightly  remembren  him-self,  yif  so  be 
that    he    hath    knowen    me  or  now; 


and  that  he  may  so  don,  I  wil  wypen  30 
a  litel  his  eyen,  that  ben  derked  by 
the  cloude  of  mortal  thinges.'  Thise 
wordes  seide  she,  and  witli  the  lappe 
of  hir  garment,  y-plyted  in  a  frounce, 
she  dryede  myn  eyen,  that  weren  35 
fulle  of  the  wawes  of  my  wepinges. 

Metre  III. 

Tunc  file  discitssa  liquerunt  nocte 
towbre. 

Thus,  whan  that  night  was  dis- 
cussed and  chasetl  a-wey,  derknesses 
forleften  me,  and  to  myn  eyen  re- 
peirede  ayein  hir  firste  strengthe. 
And,  right  by  ensaumple  as  the  Sonne  5 
is  hid  whan  the  sterres  ben  clustred 
{that  is  to  sern,  ivhait  sterres  ben 
covered  tvith  cloudes)  by  a  swifte 
winde  that  higlite  Chorus,  and  that 
the  firmament  stant  derked  by  wete  10 
ploungy  cloudes,  and  that  the  sterres 
nat  apperen  up-on  hevene,  so  that 
the  night  semeth  sprad  up-on  erthe : 
yif  thanne  the  wind  that  highte  Bo- 
rias,  y-sent  out  of  the  caves  of  the  15 
contree  of  Trace,  beteth  this  night 
{that  is  to  seyn,  chase th  it  a-wey),  and 
descovereth  the  closed  day:  than 
shyneth  Phebus  y-shaken  with  sodein 
light,  and  smyteth  with  his  hemes  in  20 
mervelinge  eyen. 

Prose  III, 

Hatid  a  liter  tristicie  nehulis  dis- 
sotutis. 

Right  so,  and  non  other  wyse,  the 
cloudes  of  sorwe  dissolved  and  don 
a-wey,  I  took  hevene,  and  receivede 
minde  to  knowen  the  face  of  my 
fysicien;  so  that  I  sette  myn  eyen  on  5 
hir,  and  fastnede  my  lookinge.  I 
beholde  my  norice  Philosophie,  in 
whos  houses  I  hadde  conversed  and 
haunted  fro  my  youthe;  and  I  seide 
thus.  '  O  thou  maistresse  of  alle  10 
vertues,  descended  from  the  soverein 
sete,  why  artow  comen  in-to  this  soli- 
tarie  place  of  myn  exil  ?  Artow  comen 
for  thou  art  maked  coupable  with  me 
of  false  blames?  '  i; 


'32 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   I. 


'  O,'  quod  she,  '  my  norry,  sholde 
I  forsaken  thee  now,  and  sholde  I 
nat  parten  with  thee,  by  comune 
travaile,   the   charge   that    thou    hast 

20  suffred  for  envie  of  my  name?  Cerles, 
it  nere  not  leveful  ne  sittinge  thing 
to  Philosophic,  to  leten  with-outen 
companye  the  way  of  him  that  is 
innocent.     Sholde  I   thanne  redoute 

25  my  blame,  and  agrysen  as  though  ther 
were  bifallen  a  newe  thing?  quasi 
diceret,  non.  For  trowestow  that 
Philosophic  be  now  alderfirst  assailed 
in  perils  by  folk  of  wikkede  maneres? 

30  Have  I  nat  striven  with  ful  greet 
stryf,  in  oldc  tyme,  bifore  the  age  of 
my  Plato,  ayeincs  the  foolhardinusse 
of  folye?  And  eek,  the  same  Plato 
livingc,  his  maister  Socrates  dcservede 

35  victorie  of  unrightful  decth  in  my 
presence.  The  heritage  of  which 
Socrates  —  Ike  heritage  is  to  seyii  the 
doctrine  of  the  whiche  Socrates  in  his 
opi7iioun    of  Felicitee,   that    I    clepe 

40  welefulnesse  —  whan  that  the  poeple 
of  Epicuriens  and  Stoiciens  and  many 
othre  enforccden  hem  to  go  ravisshe 
everich  man  for  his  part  —  that  is  to 
seyn,  that  everich  of  hem  wolde  drazoen 

45  to  the  defence  of  his  opi  nionn  thewordes 
of  Socrates  —  they,  as  in  partic  of  hir 
preye,  to-drowen  me,  cryinge  and  dc- 
batingc  ther-ayeins,  and  corven  and 
to-rcnten    my    clothes  that    I    hadde 

50  woven  with  myn  handes;  and  with 
tho  cloutes  that  they  hadden  araced 
out  of  my  clothes  they  wenten  awey, 
weninge  that  I  hadde  gon  with  hem 
everydel. 

55  In  whiche  Epicuriens  and  Stoi- 
ciens, for  as  moche  as  ther  semede 
some  traces  or  steppes  of  myn  habite, 
the  folye  of  men,  weninge  tho  Epi- 
curiens and  Stoiciens  my  famuleres, 

60  perverted  {sc.  perseqiiendo')  some 
through  the  errour  o{  the  wikkede 
or  uncunninge  multitude  of  hem. 
This  is  to  seyn  that,  for  they  semede 
philosophres,    they  weren  pursued  to 

65  the  deeth  and  slayn.  So  yif  thou  hast 
nat  knovven  the  exilinge  of  Anax- 
ogore,  ne  the  enpoysoninge  of  Soc- 
rates, ne  the  tourments  of  Zeno,  for 


they  weren  straungeres:    yit  might- 
estov.'    han    knowen   the   Senecciens    70 
and   the   Canios   and  the   Sorans,   of 
whiche    folk    the   renoun    is    neither 
over-olde     ne      unsf)lempne.        The 
whiche     men,      no-thing     elles      ne 
broughte  hem  to  the  deeth  but  only    75 
for    they  weren  enfourmcd  of  myne 
maneres,  and  semeden   most  unlyke 
to  the  studies  of  wikkede  folk.     And 
forthy  thou  (jughtest  nat  to  wondren 
though    that   I,   in   the   bittre  see  of  So 
this  lyf,  be  fordriven  with  tempestes 
blowinge  aboute,  in  the  whiche  tem- 
pestes this  is   my  most    purpos,  that 
is  to  seytt,  to  displesen    to    wikkede 
men.       Of  whiche  shrewes,  al  be  the   S5 
ost  never  so  greet,  it  is  to  dispyse; 
for  it  nis  governed  with  no  leder  of 
resoun,  but   it  is    ravisshed    only  l)y 
fletinge    errour    folyly    and     lightly. 
And  if  they  som-tyme,  makinge  an  ost    90 
ayeins  us,  assaile  us  as  strtnger,  our 
leder  drawelh  to-gidere  hise  richesses 
in-to  his  tour,  and  they  ben  entenlif 
aboute  sarpulers  or  sachels  unprofit- 
able for  to  taken.     But  we  that  ben   95 
heye    aboven,   siker  fro  alle  tumulte 
and  wode  noise,  warnestored  and  en- 
closed in  swich  a  palis,  whider  as  that 
chateringe      or    anoyinge    folye     ne 
may   nat  attayne,  we   scorne    swiche  100 
ravineres    and    henteres    of   fouleste 
thinges. 

Metre  IV. 

Quisquis  composito  serenus  euo. 

Who-so  it  be  that  is  cleer  of  vertu, 
sad,  and  wel  ordinat  of  livinge,  that 
hath  put  under  foot  the  proude 
vverdes  and  looketh  upright  up-on 
either  fortune,  he  may  holde  his  5 
chere  undiscomfited.  The  rage  ne 
the  manaces  of  the  see,  commoev- 
inge  or  chasinge  upward  hete  fro 
the  botme,  ne  shal  not  moeve  that 
man;  ne  the  unstable  mountaigne  10 
that  highte  Vesevus,  that  wrytheth 
out  through  his  brokene  chiminees 
smokinge  fyres.  Ne  the  wey  of  thon- 
der  leit,  that  is  wont  to  smyten  heye 
toures,  ne  shal  nat  moeve  that  man.    15 


BOETIilUS.     BOOK  I. 


^33 


Wher-to  thanne,  o  wrecches,  drede 
ye  tirauntcs  that  hen  wode  and  felo- 
nous  with-Dute  any  strcitljthe?  Ilupe 
after  no-lhing,  ne  drede   nat;    and  so 

20  shallow  dcsarmen  the  ire  of  thilke 
unmighty  tiraunt.  But  who-so  Ihat, 
quakinge,  dredeth  or  desireth  thing 
that  nis  nat  stalile  of  his  right,  that 
man  that  so  doth  hath  cast  awey  his 

25  sheld  and  is  renioeved  fro  his  place, 
and  enlaceth  him  in  the  cheync  with 
the  which  he  may  ben  drawen. 

Prose  IV. 

Sentisne,  inqidt,  hec. 

'  Felestow,'  quod  she, '  thise  thinges, 
and  entren  they  aught  in  thy  curage? 
Artow  lyke  an  asse  to  the  harpe? 
Why  wepestow,  why  spillestow  teres? 

5  Yif  thou  abydest  after  help  of  thy 
leche,  thee  bihoveth  discovere  thy 
wounde.' 

Tho  I,  that  hadde  gadered  strengthe 
in  my  corage,  answerede  and  seide : 

10 '  And  nedeth  it  yit,'  quod  I,  '  of  re- 
hersinge  or  of  amonicioun;  and  shew- 
eth  it  nat  y-nough  by  him-self  the 
sharpnesse  of  Fortune,  that  wexeth 
wood  ayeins  me?     Ne  moeveth  it  nat 

15  thee  to  seen  the  face  or  the  manere 
of  this  place  (?'.  prisou>i)  ?  Is  this 
the  librarie  whiche  that  thou  haddest 
chosen  fi)r  a  right  certein  sete  to  thee 
in  myn  hous,  ther-as  thou  desputedest 

20  ofte  with  me  of  the  sciences  of  thinges 
touchinge  divinitee  and  touchinge 
mankinde?  Was  thanne  myn  habite 
swich  as  it  is  now?  Was  than  my 
face   or   my   chere    swiche    as    now 

25  {quasi  diceret,  noii),  whan  I  soughte 
with  thee  secrets  of  nature,  whan  thou 
enformedest  my  maneres  and  the 
resoun  of  alle  my  lyf  to  the  ensaumple 
of  the  ordre  of  hevene?     Is  nat  this 

30  the  guerdouii  that  I  referre  to  thee, 
to  whom  I  have  be  obeisaunt?  Certes, 
thou  conferinedest,  by  the  mouth  of 
Plato,  this  sentence,  that  is  to  seyn, 
that  comune  thinges  or  comunalitees 

35  weren  blisful,  yif  they  that  hadden 
studied  al  fully  to  wisdom  governeden 


thilke  thinges,  or  elles  yif  it  so  bifille 
that  the  gcjvernoures  of  comunalitees 
studieden  to  geten  wisdom. 

Thou  seidcst  eek,  by  the  mouth  of  40 
the  same  Plato,  that   it  was   a  neces- 
sarie   cause,  wyse   men  to  taken  and 
desire    the    governaunce    of    comune 
thinges,  for  that  the  governements  of 
citees,  y-left  in  the  handes  of  felonous   45 
tormentours  citizenes,  ne  sholde  nat 
hringe  in  pestilence  and  destruccioun 
to  gode  folk.     And  therfor  I,  foluinge 
thilke  auctoritee    {sc.  J'la/onis),  de- 
sired   to   putten   forth   in   execucioun    50 
and  in  acte  of  comune  administracioun 
thilke  thinges  that  1  hadde  lerned  of 
thee  among  my  secree  resting-^'hyles. 
Thou,  and  god  that  putte  thee  in  the 
thoughtes  of  wyse  folk,  ben  knowinge    55 
with  me,  that  no-thing   ne   broughte 
me   to   maistrie   or   dignitee,  but   the 
comune  studie  of  alle  goodnesse.    And 
ther-of  comth  it  that  bi-t\^ixen  wikked 
folk  and  me  han  ben  grevous  discordes,   60 
that    ne    mighten     ben    relesed     by 
preyeres ;  for  this  libertee  hath  the  free- 
dom of  conscience,  that  the  wratthe 
of  more  mighty  folk  hath  alwey  ben 
despysed   of    me    for    savacioun    of    65 
right. 

How  ofte  have  I  resisted  and  with- 
stonde  thilke  man  that  highte  Coni- 
gaste,  that  made  alwey  assautes  ayeins 
the  prospre  fortunes  of  pore  feble  70 
folk  ?  How  ofte  eek  have  I  put  of  or 
cast  out  him,  Trigwille,  provost  of 
the  kinges  hous,  bothe  of  the  wronges 
that  he  hadde  bigunne  to  don,  and 
eek  fully  performed?  How  ofte  have  75 
I  covered  and  defended  by  the  aucto- 
ritee of  me,  put  ayeins  perils  —  that  is 
to  seyn,  put  myn  auctoritee  in  peril 
for  —  the  wrecched  pore  folk,  that 
the  covetyse  of  straungercs  unpun-  80 
ished  tourmenteden  alwey  with  mis- 
eyses  and  grcvaunces  out  of  noumbre  ? 
Never  man  ne  drow  me  yit  fro  right 
to  wronge.  Whan  I  say  the  fortunes 
and  the  richesses  of  the  poeple  of  the  85 
provinces  ben  harmed  or  amenused, 
outher  by  privec  ravynes  or  by  comune 
tributes  or  cariages,  as  sory  was  I  as 
they  that  suffreden  the  harm. 


'34 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   I. 


90  Glossa.  IV/inn  that  Theodoric, 
the  king  of  Gothes,  in  a  dere  yere, 
haddc  hise  gerneres  ful  of  corn,  and 
comaimdede  that  no  man  ne  sholde 
hyen  no  corn  til  his  corn  were  sold, 
95  and  that  at  a  grevous  dere  pry s,  Boece 
7uithstood  that  ordinaunce,  and  over- 
coin  it,  kno-ivinge  al  this  the  king  him- 
self 

Textus.     Whan  it  was  in  the  soure 

100  hungry  tyme,  ther  was  establisshed 
or  cryed  grevous  and  inplitable  co- 
empcioun,  that  men  sayen  wel  it 
sholde  greetly  turinenten  and  endam- 
agen  al  the  province  of  Campaigne,  I 

105  took  stryf  ayeins  the  provost  of  the 
pretorie  for  comune  profit.  And,  the 
king  knowinge  of  it,  I  overcom  it,  so 
that  the  coempcioun  ne  was  not  axed 
ne  took  effect. 

no  [Glossa.]  Coempcioun,  that  is  to 
seyn,  comune  achat  or  byiiig  to-gidere, 
that  'were  establisshed  upon  the  poeple 
by  siviche  a  manere  imposicioun,  as 
ivho-so  boughte  a  husshel  corn,  he  moste 

III  y eve  l^^^  king  the  fifte  part. 

[Textus.]  Paulin,  a  counseiller 
of  Rome,  the  richesses  of  the  whiche 
Paulin  the  houndes  of  the  palays,  that 
is   to  sevn,  the   officer es,  wolden    han 

120  devoured  by  hope  and  covetise,  yit 
drow  I  him  out  of  the  lowes  {sc. 
faiicibus)  of  hem  that  gapeden.  And 
for  as  moche  as  the  peyne  of  the  ac- 
cusacioun    aiuged    biforn    ne    sholde 

125  nat  sodeinly  henten  ne  punisshen 
wrongfully  Albin,  a  counseiller  of 
Rome,  I  putte  me  ayeins  the  hates 
and  indignaciouns  of  the  accusor 
Ciprian.     Is  it  nat    thanne    y-nough 

130  y-seyn,  that  I  have  purchased  grete 
discordes  ayeins  my-self  ?  But  I 
oughte  be  the  more  assured  ayeins 
alle  othre  folk  {s.  Romayns'),  that  for 
the  love  of  rightwisnesse  I  ne  reserved 

135  never  no-thing  to  my-self  to  hemward 
of  the  kinges  halle,  sc.  officers,  by  the 
whiche  I  were  the  more  siker.  But 
thorugh  tho  same  accusors  accusinge, 
I  am  condempned.     Of  the  noumbir 

14°  of  the  whiche  accusors  oon  Basilius, 
that  whylom  was  chased  out  of  the 
kinges  service,  is  now  compelled   in 


accusinge  of  my  name,  for  nede  of 
foreine  moneye.  Also  Opilion  and 
Gaudencius  han  accused  me,  al  be  it  145 
so  that  the  Justice  regal  hadde  whylom 
demed  hem  bothe  to  go  in-to  exil  for 
hir  trecheryes  and  fraudes  withoute 
noumbir.  To  whiche  lugement  they 
nolden  nat  obeye,  but  defendeden  hem  150 
by  the  sikernesse  of  holy  houses,  that 
is  to  seyn,  Jiedden  into  seintuaries  ; 
and  whan  this  was  aperceived  to  the 
king,  he  comaundede,  that  but  they 
voidede  the  citee  of  Ravenne  by  cer-155 
tein  day  assigned,  that  men  sholde 
merken  hem  on  the  forheved  with  an 
hoot  yren  and  chasen  hem  out  of  the 
toune.  Now  what  thing,  semeth  thee, 
mighte  ben  lykned  to  this  crueltee?i6o 
For  certes,  thilke  same  day  was  re- 
ceived the  accusinge  of  my  name  by 
thilke  same  accusors.  What  may  ben 
seid  her-to?  (^qiiasi  diceret,  nichil). 
Hath  my  studie  and  my  cunninge  165 
deserved  thus;  or  elles  the  foreseide 
dampnacioun  of  me,  made  that  hem 
rightful  accusors  or  no?  {jjuasi  di- 
ceret, non).  Was  not  Fortune 
ashamed  of  this?  Certes,  al  hadde  170 
nat  Fortune  ben  ashamed  that  inno- 
cence was  accused,  yit  oughte  she  han 
had  shame  of  the  fdthe  of  myne  accus- 
ours. 

But,  axestow  in  somme,  of  what  175 
gilt  I  am  accused,  men  seyn  that  I 
wolde  save  the  companye  of  the  sen- 
atours.  And  desirest  thou  to  heren 
in  what  manere?  I  am  accused  that 
I  sholde  han  destourbed  the  accusor  iSo 
to  beren  lettres,  by  whiche  he  sholde 
han  maked  the  senatoures  gilty  ayeins 
the  kinges  real  maiestee.  O  mais- 
tresse,  what  demestow  of  this?  Shal 
I  forsake  this  blame,  that  I  ne  be  no  185 
shame  to  thee?  {quasi  diceret,  non~). 
Certes,  I  have  wold  it,  that  is  to  seyn, 
the  savacioun  of  the  senat,  ne  I  shal 
never  leten  to  wilne  it,  and  that  I  con- 
fesse  and  am  aknowe;  but  the  en- 190 
tente  of  the  accusor  to  be  destourbed 
shal  cese.  For  shal  I  clepe  it  thanne 
a  felonie  or  a  sinne  that  I  have  de- 
sired the  savacioun  of  the  ordre  of  the 
senat?   {quasi   diceret,  dubito    quid).i% 


BOETIIIUS.     B(JOK   I. 


»35 


And  ccrtcs  yit  hadde  thilke  same 
senat  don  by  me,  thorugh  liir  decrets 
and  hir  lugemcnls,  as  though  it  were 
a  sinne  or  a  felonie;   that  is  to  seyn, 

200  to  wilne  the  savacioun  of  hem  {sc: 
senatiis).  But  fulye,  that  lyeth  alwey 
to  him-self,  may  not  chaunge  the 
merite  of  thingcs.  Ne  I  trowe  nat, 
by  the  lugemeiit  of   Socrates,  that  it 

205  were  leveful  to  me  to  hyde  the  sothe, 
ne  assente  to  lesinges.  But  certes, 
how  so  ever  it  be  of  this,  1  putte  it  to 
gessen  or  preisen  to  the  lugement  of 
thee   and   of  wyse   folk.     Of  whiche 

210  thing  al  the  ordinaunce  and  the  sothe, 
for  as  moche  as  folk  that  ben  to  comen 
after  our  dayes  shullen  knowen  it,  I 
have  put  it  in  scripture  and  in  remem- 
braunce.      Vox    touching    the    lettres 

215  falsly  maked,  by  whiche  lettres  I  am 
accused  to  han  hoped  the  fredom  of 
Rome,  what  aperteneth  me  to  speke 
thcr-of  ?  Of  whiche  lettres  the  fraude 
hadde  ben  shewed  apertly,  yif  I  hadde 

220  had  libertee  for  to  han  used  and  ben 
at  the  confessioun  of  myne  accusours, 
the  whiche  thing  in  alle  nedes  hath 
greet  strengthe.  For  what  other 
fredom  may  men  hopen?     Certes,  I 

225  wolde  that  som  other  fredom  mighte 
ben  hoped.  I  wolde  thanne  han 
answered  by  the  wordes  of  a  man  that 
highte  Canius;  for  whan  he  was  ac- 
cused   by    Gaius    Cesar,    Germeynes 

230  sone,  that  he  {Canius')  was  kno\\inge 
and  consentinge  of  a  coniuracioun 
y-maked  ayeins  him  {sc.  Gains),  this 
Canius  answerede  thus  :  "  Yif  I  hadde 
wist    it,  thou    haddest    nat    wist    it." 

235  In  which  thing  sorwe  hath  nat  so 
dulled  my  wit,  that  I  pleyne  only 
that  shrewede  folk  aparailen  felonies 
ayeins  virtu;  but  I  wondre  greetly 
how  that  they  may  performe  thinges 

240  that  they  hadde  hoped  for  to  don. 
For-why,  to  wilne  shrewednesse,  that 
comth  peraventure  of  oure  defaute; 
but  it  is  lyk  a  monstre  and  a  mer- 
vaille,  how  that,  in  the  present  sighte 

245  of  god,  may  ben  acheved  and  per- 
formed swiche  thinges  as  every  fel- 
onous  man  hath  conceived  in  his 
thought  ayeins  innocents.    For  which 


thing  oon  of  thy  famileres  nat  unskil- 
fully axed  thus  :  "  ^'if  god  is,  whennes  250 
comen  wikkede  thinges?    And  yif  god 
ne  is,  whennes  comen  gode  thinges?  " 
But    al    hadde    it    ben    leveful    that 
felonous  folk,  that    now  desiren    the 
blood  and  the  deeth  of  alle  gode  men  255 
and  eek  of  alle  the  senat,  han  wilned 
to  gon  destroyen  me,  whom  they  han 
seyen    alwey  batailen    and    defenden 
gode  men  and   eek    al  the  senat,  yit 
had   I  nat  desserved   of  the   faderes,  260 
that  is  to  seyn,  of  the  senatoiires,  that 
they  sholden  wilne  my  destruccioun. 
Thou  remembrest  wel,  as  I  gesse, 
that  whan  I  wolde  doon  or  seyen  any 
thing,    thou    thyself,    alwey    present,  2^)5 
rewledest  me. "  At  the  city  of  Verone, 
whan  that  the   king,  gredy  of   com- 
une    slaughter,    caste    him    to    trans- 
porten  up  al  the  ordre  of  the  swiat 
the  gilt  of  his  real    mniestee,  of   the  270 
whiche  gilt  that  Albin  was  accused, 
with  how  gret  sikernesse  of  peril  to 
me  defendede  I  al  the  senat !     Thou 
wost  wel  that  I  seye  sooth,  ne  T  ne 
avauntede  me  never  in  preysinge  of 275 
my-self.     For  alwey,  whan  any  w-ight 
receiveth  precious  renoun  in  avaunt- 
inge  him-self  of  his  werkes,  he  amen- 
useth  the   secree  of   his   conscience. 
But  now  thou  mayst  wel  seen  to  what  280 
ende   I    am   comen    for    myne    inno- 
cence; I  receive  peyne  of  fals  felonye 
for   guerdon   of   verray  vertu.      And 
what    open    confessioun    of    felonye 
hadde    ever    luges   so   acordaunt   in  2S5 
crueltee,  that  is  to  seyn,  as  myn  accus- 
inge  hath,  that  either  errour  of  mannes 
wit  or  elles   condicioun   of   Fortune, 
that  is  uncertein  to  alle  mortal  folk, 
ne    submittede    some    of    hem,    that2go 
is  to   seyn,  that  it  fie  enclynede  som 
luge  to  han  pitee  or  compassioun  ? 
For   al-thogh    I    hadde  ben  accused 
that   I    wolde    brenne    holy    houses, 
and  strangle   preestes  with   wikkede  295 
swerde,    or    that    I    hadde    greythed 
deeth    to   al   gode    men,   algates    the 
sentence   sholde   han    punisshed   me, 
present,   confessed,  or   convict.      But 
now  I  am  remewed   fro  the  citee  of  t,oo 
Rome  almost  fyve  hundred  thousand 


»36 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   I. 


pas,  I  am  with-oute  defence  dampned 
to  proscripcioun  and  to  the  deeth,  for 
the  studie  and  bountees  that  I  have 

305  doon  to  the  senat.  But  O,  wel  ben  they 
worthy  of  merite  {as  who  seith,  nay), 
ther  mighte  never  yit  non  of  hem  be 
convict  of  swiche  a  blame  as  myne 
is  !   Of  whiche  trespas,  myne  accusours 

310  sayen  ful  wel  the  dignitee;  the  whiche 
dignitee,  for  they  wolden  derken  it 
with  medeling  of  som  felonye,  they 
baren  me  on  hand,  and  lyeden,  that 
I  hadde  polut  and  defouled  my  con- 

315  science  with  sacrilege,  for  coveitise 
of  dignitee.  And  certes,  thou  thy- 
self, that  are  plaunted  in  me,  chacedest 
out  of  the  sege  of  my  corage  al  cov- 
eitise of  mortal  thinges  ;    ne  sacrilege 

320  hadde  no  leve  to  han  a  place  in  me 
biforn  thyne  eyen.  For  thou  drop- 
pedest  every  day  in  myne  eres  and  in 
my  thought  thilke  comaundement 
of   Pictagoras,   that  is  to  seyn,   men 

325  shal  serve  to  godde,  and  not  to  goddes. 
Ne  it  was  nat  convenient,  )ie  no  nede, 
to  taken  help  of  the  foulest  spirites; 
I,  that  thou  hast  ordeined  and  set  in 
swiche  excellence  that  thou  makedest 

330  me  lyk  to  god.  And  over  this,  the 
right  clene  secree  chaumbre  of  myne 
hous,  t/iat  is  to  seyn,  my  wif,  and  the 
companye  of  myn  honest  freendes, 
and  my  wyves  fader,  as  wel  holy  as 

335  worthy  to  ben  reverenced  thorugh 
his  owne  dedes,  defenden  me  from 
alle  suspecioun  of  swich  blame.  But 
O  malice !  For  they  that  accusen 
me  taken  of  thee.  Philosophic,  feith 

340  of  so  gret  blame  !  For  they  trovven 
that  I  have  had  affinitee  to  malefice 
or  enchauntement,  by-cause  that  I 
am  replenisshed  and  fulfilled  with 
thy  techinges,  and  enformed  of   thy 

345  maneres.  And  thus  it  suffiseth  not 
only,  that  thy  reverence  ne  availe  me 
not,  but-yif  that  thou,  of  thy  free 
wille,  rather  be  blemished  with  myn 
offencioun.    But  certes,  to  the  harmes 

350  that  1  have,  ther  bitydeth  yit  this 
encrees  of  harm,  that  the  gessinge 
and  the  lugement  of  moche  folk  ne 
looken  no-thing  to  the  desertes  of 
thinges,  but  only  to  the  aventure  of 


fortune;    and  iugen  that  only  swiche  355 
thinges  ben  purveyed  of  god,  whiche 
that     temporel     welefulnesse      com- 
mendeth. 

Close.  As  thus  :  that,  yif  a  wight 
have  prosperitee,  he  is  a  good  man  360 
and  worthy  to  han  that  prosperitee ; 
and  zvho-so  hath  adversitee,  he  is  a 
luikked  man,  and  god  hath  forsake 
him,  and  he  is  tvorthy  to  han  that 
adversitee.  This  is  the  opinioun  of-Tfi'^ 
some  folk. 

And  ther-of  comth  that  good  ges- 
singe, first  of  alle  thing,  forsaketh 
wrecches :  certes,  it  greveth  me  to 
thinke  right  now  the  dyverse  sen- 370 
tences  that  the  poeple  seith  of  me. 
And  thus  moche  I  seye,  that  the  laste 
charge  of  contrarious  fortune  is  this: 
that,  whan  that  any  blame  is  leyd  upon 
a  caitif,  men  wenen  that  he  hath  de-  375 
served  that  he  suffreth.  And  I,  that 
am  put  awey  fro  gode  men,  and 
despoiled  of  dignitees,  and  defouled 
of  my  name  by  gessinge,  have  suffred 
torment  for  my  gode  dedes.  Certes,  380 
me  senieth  that  I  see  the  felonous 
covines  of  wikked  men  habounden  in 
loye  and  in  gladnesse.  And  I  see 
that  every  lorel  shapeth  him  to  finde 
out  newe  fraudes  for  to  accuse  gode  385 
folk.  And  I  see  that  gode  men  beth 
overthrowen  for  drede  of  my  peril; 
and  every  luxurious  tourmentour  dar 
doon  alle  felonye  unpunisshed  and 
ben  excited  therto  by  yiftes ;  and  390 
innocents  ne  ben  not  only  despoiled 
of  sikernesse  but  of  defence ;  and 
therfore  me  list  to  cryen  to  god  in  this 
wyse :  — 

Metre  V. 

O  stelliferi  conditor  orbis. 

O  thou  maker  of  the  whele  that 
bereth  the  sterres,  which  that  art 
y-fastned  to  thy  perdurable  chayer, 
and  tornest  the  hevene  with  a  rav- 
isshing  sweigh,  and  constreinest  the  5 
sterres  to  suffren  thy  lawe;  so  that 
the  mone  som-tyme  shyning  with  hit 
ful  homes,  meting  with  alle  the  hemes 
of  the  Sonne  hir  brother,  hydeth  the 


B(jETiIIUS.     BOOK   I. 


U7 


losterres  that  l)on  lesse;  and  somtyme, 
whan  the  mono,  pale  with  hir  dcrke 
hurnes,  approchcth  the  suniie,  lescth 
hir  lightes;  and  that  the  eve-sterre 
Hesperus,  vvhiche   that   in   the   tirste 

ijtyme  of  the  night  bringeth  forth  hir 
colde  arysinges,  cometh  eft  ayein  hir 
used  cours,  and  is  pale  /y  //le  iiiorii'e 
at  the  rysing  of  the  sonne,  and  is 
thanne    cleped    Lucifer.      Thou    re- 

20streinest  the  day  by  shorter  dwelling, 
in  the  tyme  of  colde  winter  that 
maketh  the  leves  to  falle.  Thou 
dividest  the  swifte  tydes  of  the  night, 
whan  the  bote  somer  is  comen.     Thy 

25  might  atempreth  the  variaunts  se- 
sons  of  the  yere;  so  that  Zephirus 
the  deboneir  wind  bringeth  ayein,  in 
the  first  somcr  sesoun,  the  leves  that 
the  wind  that  highte  Boreas  hath  reft 

30  awey  in  autn/npne,  that  is  to  scyn,  in 
the  laste  ende  of  somer  ;  and  the  sedes 
that  the  sterre  that  highte  Arcturus 
saw,  ben  waxen  heye  cornes  whan  the 
sterre  Sirius  eschaufeth  hem.     Ther 

35  nis  no-thing  unbounde  from  his  olde 
lawe,  ne  forleteth  the  werke  of  his 
propre  estat. 

O  thou  governour,  governinge  alle 
thinges  by  certein  ende,  why  refuses- 

40  tow  only  to  governe  the  werkes  of 
men  by  dewe  manere?  Why  suffrest 
thou  that  slydinge  fortune  torneth 
so  grete  entrechaunginges  of  thinges, 
so   that  anoyous  peyne,   that  sholde 

45  dewely  punisshe  felouns,  punissheth 
innocents?  And  folk  of  wikkede 
maneres  sitten  in  heye  chayres,  and 
anoyinge  folk  treden,  and  that  un- 
rightfully,   on    the    nekkes    of    holy 

50  men  ?  And  vertu  clershyninge  nat- 
urelly  is  hid  in  derke  derkenesses, 
and  the  rightful  man  bereth  the 
blame  and  the  peyne  of  the  feloun. 
Ne  forsweringe  ne  the  fraude,  cov- 
55  ered  and  kembd  with  a  fals  colour, 
ne  anoyeth  nat  to  shrewes ;  the 
whiche  shrewes,  whan  hem  list  to 
usen  hir  strengthe,  they  reioysen  hem 
to  putten  under  hem  the  sovereyne 
60  kinges,  whiche  that  poeple  with-outen 
nouinbre  dreden. 

O  thou,  what  so  ever  thou  be  that 


knittest  alle  bondes  of  thinges,  loke 
on  thise  wrecchede  erthes;  we  men 
that  ben  nat  a  foule  party,  but  a  fayr  65 
party  of  so  grete  a  werk,  we  ben  tor- 
mented in  this  see  of  fortune.  Thou 
governour,  withdraw  and  restreyne 
the  ravisshinge  flodes,  and  fastne  and 
ferme  thise  erthes  stable  with  thilke  70 
bonde,  with  whiche  thou  governest 
the  hevene  that  is  so  large.' 

Prose  V. 

Hie  tibi  continuato  dolore  delatratii. 

Whan  I  hadde,  with  a  continuel 
sorwe,  sobbed  or  borken  out  thise 
thinges,  she  with  hir  chere  pesible, 
anil  no-thing  amoeved  with  my  com- 
pleintes,  seide  thus:  'Whan  1  say  5 
thee,'  quod  she,  '  sorweful  and  wep- 
inge,  I  wiste  anon  that  thou  were  a 
wrecche  and  exiled;  but  I  wiste  never 
how  fer  thyne  exile  was,  yif  thy  tale 
ne  hadde  shewed  it  to  me.  But  cer-  10 
tes,  al  be  thou  fer  fro  thy  contree, 
thou  nart  nat  put  out  of  it;  but  thou 
hast  failed  of  thy  weye  and  gon  amis. 
And  yif  thou  hast  lever  for  to  wene 
that  thou  be  put  out  of  thy  contree,  15 
than  hast  thou  put  out  thy-self  rather 
than  any  other  wight  hath.  For  no 
wight  but  thy-self  ne  mighte  never 
han  don  that  to  thee.  For  yif  thou 
remembre  of  what  contree  thou  art  20 
born,  it  nis  nat  governed  by  emper- 
ours,  ne  by  governement  of  multi- 
tude, as  weren  the  contrees  of  hem  of 
Athenes;  but  00  lord  and  00  king, 
and  that  is  god,  that  is  lord  of  thy  25 
contree,  whiche  that  reioyseth  him  of 
the  dwelling  of  hise  citezenes,  and 
nat  for  to  putte  hem  in  exil;  of  the 
w  hiche  lorde  it  is  a  soverayne  fredom 
to  be  governed  by  the  brydel  of  him  30 
and  obeye  to  his  Justice.  Hastow 
foryeten  thilke  right  olde  lawe  of  thy 
citee,  in  the  whiche  citee  it  is  or- 
deincd  and  estal)lisshed,  that  for  what 
wight  that  hath  lever  founden  ther-in  35 
his  sete  or  his  hi)us  than  elles-wher, 
he  may  nat  be  exiled  by  no  right  from 
that  place?  For  who-so  that  is  con- 
tened  in-with  the  palis  and  the  clos 


138 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   I. 


40  of  thilke  citee,  ther  nis  no  drede  that 
he  may  deserve  to  ben  exiled.  But 
who-so  that  leteth  the  wil  for  to  enhab- 
ite  there,  he  forleteth  also  to  deserve 
to   ben  citezein  of  thilke   citee.     So 

45  that  I  sey,  that  the  face  of  this  place 
ne  moveth  me  nat  so  mochel  as  thyne 
owne  face.  Ne  I  axe  nat  rather  the 
walles  of  thy  librarie,  aparayled  and 
wrought  with    yvory  and    with    glas, 

50  than  after  the  sete  of  thy  thought. 
In  whiche  I  putte  nat  whylom  bokes, 
but  I  putte  that  that  maketh  bokes 
worthy  of  prys  or  precious,  that  is  to 
seyn,  the  sentence  of  my  bokes.    And 

55  certeinly  of  thy  desertes,  bistowed  in 
comune  good,  thou  hast  seid  sooth, 
but  after  the  multitude  of  thy  gode 
dedes,  thou  hast  seid  fewe;  and  of 
the   honestee   or   of  the   falsnesse   of 

60  thinges  that  ben  aposed  ayeins  thee, 
thou  hast  remembred  thinges  that  ben 
knowen  to  alle  folk.  And  of  the  fel- 
onycs  and  fraudes  of  thyne  accusours, 
it  semeth  thee  have  y-touched  it  for- 

65  sothe  rightfully  and  shortly,  al  mighten 

tho   same    thinges    betere   and    more 

plentivousely  ben  couth  in  the  mouthe 

of  the  poeple  that  knoweth  al  this. 

Thou  hast  eek  blamed  gretly  and 

70  compleined  of  the  wrongful  dede  of 
the  senat.  And  thou  hast  sorvved  for 
my  blame,  and  thou  hast  wopen  for 
the  damage  of  thy  renoun  that  is 
apayred ;    and  thy  laste  sorwe  eschauf- 

75  ede  ayeins  fortune,  and  compleinest 
that  guerdouns  ne  ben  nat  evenliche 
yolden  to  the  desertes  of  folk.  And 
in  the  latere  ende  of  thy  wode  Muse, 
thou  preyedest  that  thilke  pees  that 

Sogoverneth  the  hevene  sholde  governe 
the  erthe.  But  for  that  manye  tribu- 
laciouns  of  affecciouns  han  assailed 
thee,  and  sorwe  and  ire  and  wepinge 
to-drawen  thee  dyversely;    as  thou  art 

85  now  feble  of  thought,  mightier  rem- 
edies ne  shullen  nat  yit  touchen  thee, 
for  whiche  we  wol  usen  somdel  lighter 
medicines:  so  that  thilke  passiouns 
that   ben  woxen   harde   in  swellinge, 

90  by  perturbaciouns  flowing  in-to  thy 
thought,  mowen  wexen  esy  and  softe, 
to  receiven  the  strengthe  of  a  more 


mighty  and  more  egre  medicine,  by 
an  esier  touchinge. 

Metre  VI. 

Cum  Phebi  radiis  gratie 
Cancri  sidus  hiestuat. 

Whan  that  the  hevy  sterre  of  the 
Cancre  eschaufeth  by  the  hemes  of 
Phebus,  that  is  to  seyn,  whan  that 
Phebits  the  sonne  is  in  the  signe  of  the 
Cancre,  who-so  yeveth  thanne  largely  5 
hise  sedes  to  the  feldes  that  refusen  to 
receiven  hem,  lat  him  gon,  bigyled  of 
trust  that  he  hadde  to  his  corn,  to 
acorns  of  okes.  Yif  thou  wolt  gadre 
violettes,  ne  go  thou  not  to  the  pur-  10 
pur  wode  whan  the  feld,  chirkinge, 
agryseth  of  colde  by  the  felnesse  of 
the  winde  that  highte  Aquilon.  Yif 
thou  desirest  or  wolt  usen  grapes,  ne 
seke  thou  nat,  with  a  glotonous  bond,  15 
to  streyne  and  presse  the  stalkes  of 
the  vine  in  the  ferst  somer  sesoun; 
for  Bachus,  the  god  of  wyne,  hath 
rather  yeven  hise  yiftes  to  autumpne, 
the  later  ende  of  somer.  20 

God  tokneth  and  assigneth  the 
tymes,  alilinge  hem  to  hir  propres 
offices  ;  ne  he  ne  suffreth  nat  the 
stoundes  whiche  that  him-self  hath 
devyded  and  constreyned  to  ben  25 
y-medled  to-gidere.  And  forthy  he 
that  forleteth  certein  ordinaunce  of 
doinge  by  overthrowinge  wey,  he  ne 
hath  no  glade  issue  or  ende  of  his 
werkes.  3° 

Prose  VI. 

Primum  igitur  pater isne  me  paucii- 

lis  rogacionibiis. 

'  First  woltow  suffre  me  to  touche 
and  assaye  the  estat  of  thy  thought 
by  a  fewe  demaundes,  so  that  I  may 
understonde  what  be  the  manere  of 
thy  curacioun? '  5 

'  Axe  me,'  quod  I,  '  at  thy  wille, 
what  thou  wolt,  and  I  shal  answere.' 

Tho    seide    she    thus :     '  Whether 
wenestow,'  quod  she,  '  that  this  world 
be   governed   by  foolish   happes  and    10 
fortunous,  or  elles  that  ther  be  in  it 
any  governement  of  resoun? ' 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   I. 


139 


'  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  I  ne  trowe  nat  in 
no   mancre,   that    so    ccitcin    thi>i{^es 

ijsholcle  be  uioevcd  by  fortunous  for- 
tune; but  1  wot  wel  that  god,  maker 
and  mayster,  is  govcrnour  o{  his  werk. 
Ne  never  nas  yit  day  tliat  niighte  putte 
nie  out  of  the  sothnesse  of  that  sen- 

2otence.' 

'  So  is  it,'  quod  she;  '  for  the  same 
tiling  st)nge  thou  a  litel  her-biforn, 
and  biweyledest  and  biweptest,  that 
only  men  weren  put  out  of  the  cure 

25  of  god.  For  of  alle  other  thinges 
thou  ne  doutedest  nat  that  they  nere 
governed  by  resoun.  But  owh !  (/. 
papel^  I  wondre  gretly,  certes  why 
that  thou  art  syk,  sin  that  thou  art  put 

30  in  so  holsom  a  sentence.  But  lat  us 
seken  depper;  I  coniecte  that  ther 
lakketh  I  not  nere  what.  But  sey  me 
this  :  sin  that  thou  ne  doutest  nat  that 
this  world  be  governed  by  god,  with 

35  whiche  governailes  takestow  hede  that 
it  is  governed  ?  ' 

'  Unnethe,'  quod  I,  '  knowe  I  the 
sentence  of  thy  questioun;  so  that  I 
ne  may  nat  yit  answeren  to    thy  de 

4omaundes.' 

'  I  nas  nat  deceived,'  quod  she, 
'  that  ther  ne  faileth  somwhat,  by 
whiche  the  maladye  of  thy  perturba- 
cioun  is  crept  into  thy  thought,  so  as 

45  the  strengthe  of  the  palis  chyning  is 
open.  But  sey  me  this  :  remembrest 
thou  what  is  the  ende  of  thinges,  and 
whider  that  the  entencioun  of  alle 
kinde  tendeth? ' 

50  '  I  have  herd  it  told  som-tyme,' 
quod  I;  'but  drerinesse  hath  dulled 
my  memorie.' 

'  Certes,'  quod  she,  '  thou  wost  wel 
whennes  that  alle  thinges  ben  comen 

53  anil  procedeth?  ' 

'  I  wot  wel,'  quod  I,  and  answerede, 
that  'god  is  beginning  of  al.' 

'And  how  may  this  be,'  quod  she, 
'  that,  sin  thou  knowest  the  beginning 

60  of  thinges,  that  thou  ne  knowest  nat 
what  is  the  ende  of  thinges?  But 
swiche  ben  the  customes  of  pertur- 
baciouns,  and  this  power  they  han, 
that  they  may  moeve  a  man   out  of 

65  his  place,  that  is  to  seyn,  fro  the  stable- 


nes  and  perfecciotm  of  his  knowiuge  ; 
but,  certes,  they  may  nat  al  arace  him, 
ne  aliene  him  in  al.  But  I  wolde 
that  thou  woldest  answere  to  this: 
rememlirestow  that  thou  art  a  man?'    70 

'Whysholde  I  nat  remembre  that?' 
quod  I. 

'  Maystow   nat    telle    me    thannc,' 
quod  she,  'what  thing  is  a  man?' 

'  Axestowme  nat,'  quod  I,  'whether    75 
that  I  be  a  resonal)le  mortal  beest? 
I  woot  wel,  and  I  confesse  wel  that  I 
am  it.' 

'  Wistestow   never    yit    that    thou 
were  any  other  thing?'  quod  she.       80 

'  No,'  quod  I. 

'Now  woot  I,'  quod  she,  'other 
cause  of  thy  maladye,  and  that  right 
grete.  Thou  hast  left  for  to  knowen 
thy-self,  what  thou  art ;  thorugh  85 
whiche  I  have  pleynly  founden  the 
cause  of  thy  maladye,  or  elles  the 
entree  of  recoveringe  of  thyn  hele. 
For-why,  for  thou  art  confounded 
with  foryeting  of  thy-self,  for-thy  sor-  90 
westow  that  thou  art  exiled  of  thy 
propre  goodes.  And  for  thou  ne 
wost  what  is  the  ende  of  thinges,  for- 
thy  demestow  that  felonous  and  wik- 
ked  men  ben  mighty  and  weleful.  95 
And  for  thou  hast  foryeten  by  whiche 
governements  the  world  is  governed, 
for-thy  wenestow  that  thise  muta- 
ciouns  of  fortune  fleten  with-oute 
governour.  Thise  ben  grete  causes  100 
not  only  to  maladye,  but,  certes,  grete 
causes  to  deeth.  But  I  thanke  the 
auctor  and  the  maker  of  hele,  that 
nature  hath  not  al  forleten  thee.  I 
have  grete  norisshinges  of  thyn  hele,  105 
and  that  is,  the  sothe  sentence  of 
governaunce  of  the  worlde;  that  thou 
bilevest  that  the  governinge  of  it  nis 
nat  subiect  ne  underput  to  the  folie 
of  thise  happes  aventurous,  but  to  no 
the  resoun  of  god.  And  ther-for 
doute  thee  no-thing;  f(jr  of  this  litel 
spark  thyn  hete  of  lyf  shal  shyne. 

liut  for  as  moche  as  it  is  nat  tyme 
yit  of  faster  remedies,  and  the  nature  115 
of  thoughtes  deceived  is  this,  that  as 
ofte  as  they  casten  awcy  sothe  opin- 
iouns,    they    clothen    hem    in    false 


140 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   II. 


opiniouns,  of  which  false  opiniouns 
120  the  derkenesse  of  perturbacioun  wex- 
eth  up,  that  confoundeth  the  verray 
insi.^hte :  and  that  derkenesse  shal  I 
assaye  som-what  to  niaken  tliinne 
and  wayk  by  Hghte  and  meneUche 
125  remedies;  so  that, after  that  the  derke- 
nesse of  deceivinge  desiringes  is  don 
awey,  thou  mowe  krowe  the  shyninge 
of  verray  light. 

Metre  VII. 

Nubibus  atris. 

The  sterres,  covered  with  blake 
cloudes,  ne  mowen  yeten  a-doun  no 
light.  Yif  the  trouble  wind  that 
higlit  Auster,  turning  and  walwinge 
5  the  see,  medleth  the  hete,  that  is  to 
seyn,  the  boyliiig  up  from  the  botine ; 


the  wawes,  that  whylom  weren  clere 
as  glas  and  lyke  to  the  faire  clere 
dayes,  withstande  anon  the  sightes 
of  men  by  the  hlthe  and  ordure  that 
is  resolved.  And  the  fletinge  streem, 
that  royleth  doun  dyversly  fro  heye 
mountaignes,  is  arested  and  resisted 
ofte  tyme  by  the  encountringe  of  a 
stoon  that  is  departed  and  fallen  from 
som  roche. 

And  for-thy,  yif  thou  wolt  loken 
and  demen  sooth  with  cleer  light,  and 
holden  the  wey  with  a  right  path, 
weyve  thou  loye,  dryf  fro  thee  drede, 
fleme  thou  hope,  ne  lat  no  sorwe 
aproche;  that  is  to  seyn,  lat  non  of 
thise  four  passiouns  over-comen  thee 
or  blende  thee.  For  cloudy  and  derke 
is  thilke  thought,  and  bounde  with  bry- 
dles,  where-as  thise  thinges  regnen.' 


25 


Explicit  liber  primus. 


BOOK   11. 


»  Prose  I. 

Postea  paulisper  conticuit. 

After  this  she  stinte  a  litel;  and, 
after  that  she  hadde  gadered  by 
atempre  stillenesse  myn  attencioun, 
she  seide  thus  :  (^As  tuho  inighte  seyn 
5  thus  :  After  thise  thinges  she  stinte  a 
litel ;  and  whan  she  aperceived  by 
atempre  stillenesse  that  I  was  ententif 
to  herkene  hir,  she  bigan  to  speke  in 
this  wyse)  :  'Yif  I,'  quod  she,  'have 

10  understonden  and  knowen  outrely 
the  causes  and  the  habit  of  thy  mala- 
dye,  thou  languissest  and  art  defeted 
for  desyr  and  talent  of  thy  rather  for- 
tune.    She,    that   ilke   Fortune   only, 

15  that  is  chaunged,  as  thou  feynest,  to 
thee-ward,  hath  perverted  the  cleer- 
nesse  and  the  estat  of  thy  corage.  I 
understonde  the  fele-folde  colours  and 
deceites  of  thilke  merveilous  monstre 

20  P'orlune,  and  how  she  useth  ful  flat- 
eringe  familaritee  with  hem  that  she 
enforceth  to  bigyle;  so  longe,  til  that 
she  confounde  with  unsufferable  sorwe 
hem  that  she  hath  left  in  despeyr  un- 

25  purveyed.     And  yif  thou  remembrest 


wel  the  kinde,  the  maneres,  and  the 
desert  of  thilke  fortune,  thou  shalt 
wel  knowe  that,  as  in  hir,  thou  never 
ne  haddest  ne  hast  y-lost  any  fair  thing. 
But,  as  I  trowe,  I  shal  nat  gretly  tra-  30 
vailen  to  do  thee  remembren  on  thise 
thinges.  For  thou  were  wont  to  hur- 
telen  and  despysen  hir,  with  manly 
wordes,  whan  she  was  blaundissinge 
and  present,  and  pursewedest  hir  with  35 
sentences  that  were  drawen  out  of 
myn  entree,  that  is  to  seyn,  out  of  myn 
iiifonnacioun.  But  no  sodein  muta- 
cioun  ne  bitydeth  nat  with-oute  a 
manere  chaunginge  of  corages;  and  40 
so  is  it  befallen  that  thou  art  a  litel 
departed  fro  the  pees  of  thy  thought. 
But  now  is  tyme  that  thou  drinke 
and  ataste  some  softe  and  delitable 
thinges;  so  that,  whan  they  ben  en-  45 
tred  with-in  thee,  it  mowe  maken  wey 
to  strengere  drinkes  of  medicynes. 
Com  now  forth  therfore  the  suasioun 
of  swetenesse  rethorien,  whiche  that 
goth  only  the  right  wey,  whyl  she  for-  50 
saketh  nat  myne  estatuts.  And  with 
Rhetorice  com  forth  Musice,  a  dami- 
sel   of  our   hous,   that  singeth   now 


ROETHIUS.     BOOK   II. 


141 


lighter  moedes  or  frolacioutis,  now 
55hevyer.       What    eyleth    thee,    man? 
What  is  it  that  hath  cast  thee  in-to 
niorninge    and     in-to    vvepinge?       I 
trowe  that  thou  hast  seyn  som  newe 
thing    and     uncouth.      Thou    wenest 
60  that  Fortune  be  chaunged  ayein  thee; 
hut  thou  wenest  wrong,  yif  thou  that 
wene.     Alwey  tho  ben  hir  maneres; 
she  hath  rather  kept,  as  to  thee-ward, 
hir  propre  stablenesse  in  the  chaung- 
65  inge  of  hir-self.     Right  swich  was  she 
whan  she  flatered  thee,  and  deceived 
thee  with   unleveful   lykinges  of  fals 
welefulncsse.   Thou  hast  now  knowen 
and  ataynt  tlie  doutous  or  double  vis- 
70  age  of  tiiilke  blinde  goddesse  Fortune. 
She,  that  yit  covereth  hir  and  wim- 
pleth  hir  to  other  folk,  hath  shewed 
hir    every-del    to    thee.       Yif    thou 
aprovest  hir  and  thenkest  that  she  is 
75  good,   use    hir    maneres    and    pleyne 
thee  nat.     And  yif  thou  agrysest  hir 
false  trecherye,  despyse  and  cast  awey 
hir   that    pleyeth    so    harmfully;     for 
she,  that  is  now  cause  of  so  muche 
Sosorwe  to  thee,  sholde  ben  cause  to 
thee  of  pees  and  of  loye.     She  hath 
forsaken  thee,  forsothe;    the  whiche 
that   never  man  may  ben  siker   that 
she  ne  shal  forsake  him. 
85      Glose.      But    natheles,  some  bokes 
Iian  the  text  thus:  For  sothe,  she  hath 
forsaken   thee,  ne   ther   nis   no  man 
siker  that  she  ne  hath  nat  forsaken. 
Holdestow  than  thill^e  welefulncsse 
90  precious  to    thee    that  shal    passen? 
And  is  present   Fortune   dereworthe 
to   thee,   which   that  nis  nat   feithful 
for   to   dwelle;    and,  whan   she   goth 
awey,  that  she  bringeth  a  wight  in 
95Sorwe?     For  sin    she    may    nat    ben 
withholden    at    a    mannes  wille,   she 
maketh  him  a  wrecche  whan  she  de- 
parteth    fro  him.     What  other  thing 
is    flittinge     Fortune     but    a    maner 
looshewinge  of  wrecchednesse  that  is  to 
comen?     Ne  it  ne  suffyscth   nat  only 
to    loken   on   thinge   that   is    present 
biforn  the  eyen  of  a  man.     But  wis- 
dom loketh  and   amesureth  the  ende 
105  of  thinges;    and  the  same  chaunginge 
from  con   in-to  an-other,  that  is  to 


seyn,  from  adversitee  in-to  prosperi- 
tee,  maketh  that  the  manaces  of  For- 
tune ne  lien  nat  for  to  dreden,  ne  the 
tlateringesof  hir  to  ben  desired.  Thus,  no 
at  the  laste,  it  bihoveth  thee  to 
suffren  with  evene  wille  in  pacience 
al  that  is  don  in-with  the  floor  of 
Fortune, ///<;/ ?.f  to  seyn,  in  this  world, 
sin  thou  hast  ones  put  thy  nekke  115 
under  the  yok  of  hir.  For  yif  thou 
wolt  vvryten  a  lawe  of  wendinge  and 
of  dwellinge  to  Fortune,  whiche  that 
thou  hast  chosen  frely  to  ben  thy 
lady,  artow  nat  wrongful  in  that,  and  120 
makest  F'ortune  wroth  and  aspere  by 
thyn  inpatience,  and  yit  thou  mayst 
nat  chaunge  hir? 

Yif  thou  committest  and    bitakest 
thy  sailes   to    the    winde,  thou   shalt  125 
be    shoven,     not    thider     that    thou 
woldest,  but  whider    that    the    wind 
shoveth  thee.      Yif  thou   castest  thy 
sedes  in-to  the  feldes,  thou  sholdest 
han    in    niinde    that    the    yeres   ben,  130 
amonges,  other-whyle  plentevous  and 
other-whyle  bareyne.     Thou  hast  bi- 
taken  thy-self  to  the  governaunce  of 
Fortune,  and  for-thy  it  bihoveth  thee 
to  ben    obeisaunt  to   the  maneres  of  135 
thy    lady.      Enforcest    thou    thee    to 
aresten  or  withholden  the  swiftnesse 
and  the  sweigh  of  hir  turninge  whele? 
O  thou   fool   of  alle  mortal  fooles,  if 
F'ortune  bigan  to  dwelle  stable,  she  140 
cesede  thanne  to  ben  Fortune ! 

Metre  I. 

Hec     cum     superba     uerterit     uices 
dextra. 

Whan  Fortune  with  a  proud  right 
hand  hath  torned  hir  chaunginge 
stoundes,  she  fareth  lyk  the  maneres 
of  the  boilinge  Eurype.  Glosa. 
Eurype  is  an  arm  of  the  see  that  5 
el'be'th  and  floweth ;  and  som-tyme 
the  streem  is  on  0  syde,  and  som-tyme 
on  the  other.  Text.  She,  cruel  For- 
tune, casteth  adoun  kinges  that 
whylom  weren  y-drad;  and  she,  de-  10 
ceivable,  enhaunseth  up  the  humble 
chere  of  him  that  is  discomfited.  Ne 
she    neither    hereth    ne    rekketh    of 


142 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   II. 


vvrecchede  wepinges;  and  she  is  so 
15  hard  that  she  laugheth  and  scorneth 

the  wepinges  of  hem,  the  whiche  she 

hath  maked  wepe  with  hir  free  wille. 

Thus    she     pleyeth,     and     thus    she 

proeveth  hir  strengthes;  and  sheweth 
20  a  greet  wonder  to  alle  hir  servauntes, 

yif  that  a  wight  is  seyn  welcful,  and 

overthrowe  in  an  houre. 

Prose  II. 

Vellem  anteni  pauca  tecum. 

Certes,  I  wolde  pleten  with  thee  a 
fewe  tliinges,  usinge  the  wordes  of 
Fortune;  tak  hede  now  thy-self,  yif 
that  she  axeth  right.  "  O  thou  man, 
5  wher-fore  makest  thou  me  gilty  by 
thyne  every-dayespleyninges?  What 
wrong  have  I  don  thee?  What 
goodes  have  I  bireft  thee  that  weren 
thyne?     Stryf  or  plete  with  me,  bi- 

10  fore  what  luge  that  thou  wolt,  of  the 
possessioun  of  richesses  or  of  digni- 
tees.  And  yif  thou  mayst  shewen  me 
that  ever  any  mortal  man  hath  re- 
ceived any  of  tho  thinges  to  ben  hise 

15  in  propre,  than  wol  I  graunte  frely 
that  alle  thillvc  thinges  weren  thyne 
whiche  that  thou  axest.  Whan  that 
nature  broughte  thee  forth  out  of  thy 
moder  wombe,  I  receyved  thee  naked 

20  and  nedy  of  alle  thinges,  and  I 
norisshede  thee  with  my  richesses, 
and  was  redy  and  ententif  through 
my  favour  to  susteyne  thee;  and  that 
maketh    thee    now    inpacient    ayeins 

25  me;  and  I  envirounde  thee  with  alle 
the  aboundance  and  shyninge  of  alle 
goodes  that  ben  in  my  right.  Now  it 
lylceth  me  to  with-drawen  my  hand; 
thou  hast  had  grace  as  he  that  hath 

30  used  of  foreine  goodes  :  thou  hast  no 
right  to  pleyne  thee,  as  though  thou 
haddest  outrely  for-lorn  alle  thy 
thinges.  Why  pleynest  thou  thanne? 
I  have  done  thee  no  wrong.     Rich- 

35  esses,  honours,  and  swiche  other 
thinges  ben  of  my  right.  My  ser- 
vauntes knowen  me  for  hir  lady; 
they  comen  with  me,  and  departen 
whan  I  wende.     I   dar   wel   affermen 

40  hardily,  that  yif  tho  thinges,  of  which 


thou  pleynest  that  thou  hast  forlorn, 
hadde  ben  thyne,  thou  ne  haddest 
not  lorn  hem.  Shal  I  thanne  only 
ben  defended  to  usen  my  right? 

Certes,  it  is  leveful  to  the  hevene  45 
to  make  clere  dayes,  and,  after  that, 
to  coveren  tho  same  dayes  with  derke 
nightes.  The  yeer  hath  eek  leve  to 
apparailen  the  visage  of  the  erthe, 
now  with  floures  and  now  with  fruit,  50 
and  to  confounden  hem  som-tyme 
with  reynes  and  with  coldes.  The 
see  hath  eek  his  right  to  ben  som- 
tyme  calme  and  blaundishing  with 
smothe  water,  and  som-tyme  to  ben  55 
horrible  with  wawes  and  with  tem- 
pestes.  But  the  covetise  of  men, 
that  may  nat  ben  stanched,  shal  it 
binde  me  to  ben  stedefast,  sin  that 
stedefastnesse  is  uncouth  to  my  man-  60 
eres?  Svvich  is  my  strengthe,  and 
this  pley  I  pleye  continuely.  I  tome 
the  whirlinge  wheel  with  the  torning 
cercle;  I  am  glad  to  chaungen  the 
lowest  to  the  heyest,  and  the  heyest  65 
to  the  lowest.  Worth  up,  if  thou 
wolt,  so  it  be  by  this  lawe,  that  thou 
ne  holde  nat  that  I  do  thee  wronge 
thogh  thou  descende  adoun,  whan  the 
resoun  of  my  pley  axeth  it.  70 

Wistest  thou  nat  how  Cresus,  the 
king  of  Lydiens,  of  whiche  king  Cyrus 
was  ful  sore  agast  a  litel  biforn,  that 
this  rewliche  Cresus  was  caught  of 
Cyrus  and  lad  to  the  fyr  to  ben  brent,  75 
but  that  a  rayn  descendede  doun  fro 
hevene  that  rescowede  him?  And  is 
it  out  of  thy  minde  how  that  Paulus, 
consul  of  Rome,  whan  he  hadde 
taken  the  king  of  Perciens,  weep  So 
pitously  for  the  captivitee  of  the  self 
kinge?  What  other  thing  biwailen 
the  cryinges  of  tragedies  but  only  the 
dedes  of  Fortune,  that  with  an  unwar 
stroke  overtorneth  realmes  of  grete  85 
nobley  ?  Glose.  Tragedie  is  to  seyn, 
a  dittee  of  a  prospei-itee  for  a  tyme, 
that  eudetk  hi  wrecchednesse. 

Lernedest  nat  thou  ?';/  Greke,  whan 
thou  were  yonge,  that  in  the  entree,    9° 
or  in  the  celere,  of  lupiter,  ther  ben 
couched  two  tonnes;  that  on  is  ful  of 
good,  that  other  is  ful  of  harm?    What 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK    II. 


»43 


right  hast  thou  to  pleyne,  yif  thou  hast 
95  taken  more  plentevously  of  the  goocle 
syde,  (hat  is  to  scyn,  of  div  richesses 
and  prospc'rilcs  ;  aiul  what  eck  if  I 
ne  he  nat  al  departed  frt)  thee?  What 
eek    yif   my  !nutal)iUtee   yiveth   thee 

100  rightful  cause  of  hope  to  han  yit 
beter  thinges?  Natheles  dismaye 
thee  nat  in  thy  thought;  and  thou 
that  art  put  in  the  comune  rcahne 
of  alle,  ne  desyre  nat  to  liven  by  thyn 

105  only  propre  right. 

Metre  II. 

Si  quantas  rapidis  Jlatihus  inciius. 

Though  Plentee,  that  is  goddesse  of 
richcsses,  hielde  adoun  with  ful  horn, 
and  withdraweth  nat  hir  hand,  as 
many  richesses  as  the  see  torneth 
5  upward  sandes  whan  it  is  moeved 
with  ravisshinge  blastes,  or  elles  as 
many  richesses  as  ther  shynen  lirighte 
sterres  on  hevene  on  the  sterry  nightes ; 
yit,  for  al  that,  mankinde  nolde  not 

locese  to  wepe  wrecchede  pleyntes. 
And  al  be  it  so  that  god  receyveth 
gladly  hir  preyers,  and  yiveth  them 
(as  fool-large)  moche  gold,  and  apa- 
raileth  coveitous  men  with  noble  or 

15  clere  honours  :  yit  semeth  hem  haven 
y-geten  no-thing,  but  alwey  hir  cruel 
ravyne,  devouringe  al  that  they  han 
geten,  sheweth  other  gapinges  ;  that 
is  to  seyii,giipen  and desyren  yit  after 

20  mo  richesses.  What  brydles  mighten 
withholden,  to  any  certein  ende,  the 
desordenee  covetise  of  men,  whan, 
ever  the  rather  that  it  fleteth  in  large 
yiftes,  the  more  ay  brenneth   in  hem 

25  the  thurst  of  havinge  ?  Certes  he 
that,  quakinge  and  dredful,  weneth 
him-selven  nedy,  he  ne  liveth  never- 
more riche." 

Prose   III. 

Iliis  igitur  si  pro  se  tecum  Fortiina 
locjueretur. 

Therfor,  yif  that  Fortune  spake  with 
thee  for  hir-self  in  this  nianere,  for- 
sothe  thou  ne  haddest  nat  what  thou 
mightest  answere.     And,  if  thou  hast 


any-thing     wherwith     thou     mayest     5 

rightfully  defenden  thy  compleint, 
it  l)ehoveth  thee  to  shewen  it;  and 
I  wol  yeven   thee  sjjace  to  tellen  it.' 

'C'erteynly,'  ([uod   I  thanne,  '  thise 
beth  faire  thinges,  and  enointed  with    10 
hony    swetenesse    of    rethorike    and 
musike ;     and    only    whyl    they    ben 
herd     they    ben    delicious.       Hut    to 
wrecches  is  a  depper  felinge  of  harm  ; 
this  is  to  seyii,  that  wrecches  feleit  the    15 
har/iies  that  they   sitffroi    more  gre- 
vously  than  the  remedies  or  the  delites 
of  thise  wordes  motven  gladen  or  com- 
forten    hem;     so    that,    whan    thise 
thinges  stinten  for  to  soune  in  eres,   20 
the  sorwe  that   is  inset  greveth  the 
thought.' 

'  Right   so   is  it,'  quod   she.     '  For 
thise  ne  ben  yit  none  remedies  of  thy 
nialadye  ;    but  they  ben  a  maner  nor-    25 
isshinges  of  thy  sorwe,  yit  rebel  ayein 
thy  curacioun.     For  whan  that  tyme 
is,  I  shal  moeve  swiche  thinges  that 
percen  hem-self  depe.     But  natheles, 
that  thou  shalt  nut  wilne  to  leten  thy-    30 
self  a  wrecche,  hast  thou  foryeten  the 
noumber  and  the  manere  of  thy  vvele- 
fulnesse  ?    I  holde  me  stille,  how  that 
the  soverayne  men  of  the  citee  token 
thee  in  cure  and  kepinge,  whan  thou    35 
were  orphelin    of   fader   and   moder, 
and    were     chosen     in     affinitee    of 
princes  of  the  citee;  and  thou  higunne 
rather  to  be  leef  and  dere  than  forto 
ben  a  neighbour  ;    the  whiche  thing   40 
is   the    most    precious   kinde    of   any 
propinquitee    or    alyaunce    that    may 
l)en.      Who   is   it   that   ne   seide    tho 
that  thou  were  right  weleful,  with  so 
grete  a  nobleye  of  thy  fadres-in-lawe,    45 
and  with  the  chastitee  of  thy  wyf,  and 
with  the  opportunitee    and    noblesse 
of  thy  masculin   children,   tliat  is  to 
seyn,  thy  sones  ?     And  over  al  this  — 
me     list     to     passen     the     comune    50 
thinges  —  how   thou   haddest    in   thy 
youthe   dignitees  that  weren  werned 
to  olde    men.      But   it    delyteth    me 
to  comen  now  to  the  singuler  uphe- 
pinge  of  thy  welefulnesse.     Vif   any    55 
fruit  of  mortal  thinges  may  han  any 
weighte     or     prys    of     welefulnesse. 


144 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   11. 


mightest  thou  ever  foryeten,  for  any 
charge  of  harm  that  mighte  bifalle, 

60  the  remembraunce  of  thilke  day  that 
thou  saye  thy  two  sones  maked  con- 
seileres,  and  y-lad  to-gedere  fro  thyn 
house  under  so  greet  assemblee  of 
senatoures  and  under  the  blythenesse 

65  of  poeple  ;  and  whan  thou  saye  hem 
set  in  the  court  in  here  chayeres  of 
dignitees  ?  Thou,  rethorien  or  pro- 
nouncere  of  kinges  preysinges,  deser- 
vedest  glorie  of  wit  and  of  eloquence, 

70  whan  thou,  sittinge  bitwene  thy  two 
sones,  conseileres,  in  the  place  that 
highte  Circo,  fulfuldest  the  abydinge 
of  the  multitude  of  poeple  that  was 
sprad    abouten    thee,    with    so    large 

75  preysinge  and  laude,  as  men  singen 
in  victories.  Tho  yave  thou  wordes 
to  Fortune,  as  I  trowe,  that  is  to  sey^i, 
tho  feffedcst  thou  Fortune  with  glosinge 
wordes  and  deceivedest  Mr,  whan  she 

Soacoyede  thee  and  norisshede  thee  as 
hir  owne  delyces.  Thou  here  away 
of  Fortune  a  yifte,  that  is  to  seyn, 
swiche  guerdoiin,  that  she  never  yaf 
to    privee  man.       Wilt    thou  therfor 

85  leye  a  rekeninge  with  Fortune  ?  She 
hath  now  twinkled  first  upon  thee 
with  a  wikkede  eye.  Yif  thou  con- 
sidere  the  noumbre  and  the  manere 
of  thy  blisses  and  of  thy  sorwes,  thou 

9omayst  nat  forsaken  that  thou  art  yit 
blisful.  For  if  thou  therfor  wenest 
thy-self  nat  weleful,  for  thinges  that 
tho  semeden  ioyful  ben  passed,  ther 
nis    nat    why    thou    sholdest    wene 

95  thy-self  a  wrecche;  for  thinges  that 
semen  now  sorye  passen  also. 

Art  thou  now  comen  first,  a  sodein 

gest,  in-to  the  shadwe  or  tabernacle 

of  this  lyf ;    or  trowest  thou  that  any 

loostedefastnesse  be  in  mannes  thinges, 

whan   ofte   a  swift    houre    dissolveth 

the  same  man;    that  is  to  seyn,  whan 

the  soule  departeth  fro  the  body  ?    For, 

al-though  that  selde  is  ther  any  feith 

105  that  fortunous  thinges  wolen  dwellen, 

yit  natheles  the  laste  day  of  a  mannes 

lyf  is  a  manere  deeth  to  Fortune,  and 

also  to  thilke  that  hath  dwelt.     And 

therfor,  what,  wenestow,  thar   [thee] 

iiorecche,    yif   thou   forlete  hir  in  dey- 


inge,  or  elles  that  she.  Fortune,  for- 
lete thee  in  fleeinge  away? 

Metre  III. 
Cum  polo  Phebus  roseis  quadrigis. 

Whan  Phebus,  the  sonne,  bigin- 
neth  to  spreden  his  cleernesse  with 
rosene  chariettes,  thanne  the  sterre, 
y-dimmed,  paleth  hir  whyte  cheres, 
by  the  flambes  of  the  sonne  that  5 
overcometh  the  sterre-light.  This  is 
to  seyn,  whan  the  sonne  is  risen,  the 
dey-sterre  wexeth  pale,  and  leseth  hir 
light  for  the  grete  brightnesse  of  the 
Sonne.  10 

Whan  the  wode  wexeth  rody  of 
rosene  floures,  in  the  first  somer 
sesoun,  thorugh  the  brethe  of  the 
winde  Zephirus  that  wexeth  warm, 
yif  the  cloudy  wind  Auster  blowe  15 
felliche,  than  goth  awey  the  faire- 
nesse  of  thornes. 

Ofte   the   see   is   cleer    and    calm 
withoute  moevinge  flodes;    and  ofte 
the    horrilile   wind  Aquilon  moeveth    20 
boilinge  tempestes  and  over-whelveth 
the  see. 

Yif  the  forme  of  this  worlde  is  so 
selde  stable,  and  yif  it  turneth  by  so 
many  entrechaunginges,  wolt  thou  25 
thanne  trusten  in  the  tomblinge 
fortunes  of  men?  Wolt  thou  trowen 
on  flittinge  goodes?  It  is  certein 
and  establisshed  by  lawe  perdurable, 
that  no-thing  that  is  engendred  nis  30 
stedefast  ne  stable.' 

Prose  IV. 

Tunc   ego,  uera,   inquavi,  coi?imem- 

eras. 

Thanne  seide  I  thus :  '  O  norice 
of  alle  vertues,  thou  seist  ful  sooth; 
ne  I  ne  may  nat  forsake  the  right 
swifte  cours  of  my  prosperitee;  that 
is  to  seyn,  that  prosperitee  ne  be  5 
comen  to  me  wonder  swiftly  and 
sone.  But  this  is  a  thing  that  greetly 
smerteth  me  whan  it  remembreth  me. 
For  in  alle  adversitee  of  fortune,  the 
most  unsely  kinde  of  contrarious  10 
fortune  is  to  han  ben  weleful.' 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK  II. 


145 


'  Hut  that  thou,'  quoil  she,  '  abycst 
thus  the  torment  of  thy  false  opiii- 
iouii,  that    niayst  thou  nat  rightfully 

ij  lilamen  ne  arctten  to  thinges:  t7S  70/10 
seit/i,  for  thou  hast  yit  niauy  habun- 
daiiiui's  of  thinges. 

Text.  For  al  he  it  so  that  the 
ydel    name    of    aventurous    weleful- 

2onesse  moeveth  thee  now,  it  is  leveful 
that  thou  rekne  with  me  of  how 
manye  grete  thinges  thou  hast  yit 
plentee.  And  therfor,  yif  that  thilke 
thing    that    thou    haddest    for    most 

25  precious  in  al  thy  richesse  of  fortune 
be  kept  to  thee  yit,  by  the  grace  of 
god,  unwemmed  and  undefouled, 
mayst  thou  thanne  pleyne  rightfully 
upon    the    meschef  of    Fortune,    sin 

30 thou  hast  yit  thy  beste  thinges? 
Certes,  yit  liveth  in  go<jd  point  thilke 
precious  honour  of  mankinde,  Synia- 
cus,  thy  wyves  fader,  which  that  is 
a  man  naked  alle  of  sapience  and  of 

35vertu;  the  whiche  man  thou  woldest 
byen  redely  with  the  prys  of  thyn 
owne  lyf.  He  bivvayleth  the  wronges 
that  men  don  to  thee,  and  nat  for 
him-self;   for  he  liveth  in  sikernesse 

40 of  any  sentences  put  ayeins  him. 
And  yit  liveth  thy  wyf,  that  is  atem- 
pre  of  wit,  and  passinge  other  wim- 
men  in  clennesse  of  chastetee;  and 
for   I   wol  closen    shortely  hir  boun- 

45  tees,  she  is  lyk  to  hir  fader.  I  telle 
thee  wel,  that  she  liveth  looth  of  this 
lyf,  and  kepeth  to  thee  only  hir 
goost;  and  is  al  maat  and  over- 
comen    by    wepinge    and    sorwe    for 

5odesyr  of  thee,  in  the  whiche  thing 
only  I  moot  graunten  that  thy  wele- 
fulnesse  is  amenused.  What  shal  I 
seyn  eek  of  thy  two  sones,  conseil- 
ours,  of  whiche,  as  of  children  of  hir 

55  age,  ther  shyneth  the  lyknesse  of  the 
wit  of  hir  fader  or  of  hir  elder  fader? 
And  sin  the  sovereyn  cure  of  alle 
mortel  folk  is  to  saven  hir  owen 
lyves,   O    how    weleful    art   thou,   yif 

60  thou  knowe  thy  goodes !  For  yit 
ben  ther  thinges  dwelled  to  thee- 
ward,  that  no  man  douteth  that  they 
ne  ben  more  dereworthe  to  thee  than 
thyn    owen   lyf.      And    for-thy   drye 


thy  teres,  for  yit  nis  nat  everich  65 
fortune  al  hateful  to  thee-ward,  ne 
over  greet  tempest  hath  nat  yit  fallen 
upon  thee,  whan  that  thyn  ancres 
eleven  faste,  that  neither  wolen  suf- 
fren  the  cuunfort  of  this  tyme  present  70 
ne  the  hope  of  tyme  cominge  to 
passen  ne  to  faylen.' 

'  And  I  preye,'  quod  I,  '  that  faste 
moten  they  halden;  for  whyles  that 
they  halden,  how-so-ever  that  thinges  75 
ben,  1  shal  wel  fleten  forth  and  escapen; 
but  thou  mayst  wel  seen  how  grete 
ajiarayles  and  aray  that  me  lakketh, 
that  ben  passed  away  fro  me.' 

'  I    have    som-what    avaunsed    and    80 
forthered   thee,'   quod   she,   'yif  that 
thou  anoye  nat  or  forthinke  nat  of  al 
thy  fortune  :   as  who  seith,  I  have  som- 
what    coiiiforted    thee,    so    that    thou 
tempest  thee  nat  thiis  ivith  al  thy  for-    S5 
ttine,  sin  thou  hast  yit  thy  heste  thinges. 
But  I  may  nat  sufiren  thy  delices,  that 
pleynest  so  wepinge   and  anguissous, 
for  that  ther  lakketh  som-what  to  thy 
welefulnesse.     For    what    man    is   so    90 
sad  or  of  so  parfit  vv-elefulnesse,  that 
he  ne  stryveth  and  pleyneth  on  som 
halve  ayen  the  qualitee  of  his  estat? 
For-why   ful  anguissous  thing  is  the 
condicioun    of   mannes    goodes;     for    95 
cither  it  cometh   nat   al-togider  to  a 
wight,  or  elles  it  last  nat  perpetuel. 
For   sum   man   hath    grete   richesses, 
but  he  is  ashamed  of  his  ungentel  lin- 
age;  and  som  is  renowned  of  noblesse  100 
of  kinrede,  but  he  is  enclosed  in  so 
grete   anguisshe   of  ncde  of  thinges, 
that  him  were  lever  that  he  were  un- 
knowe.     And   som  man    haboundeth 
both  in  richesse  and  noblesse,  but  yit  105 
he   bewaileth    his   chaste   lyf,   for   he 
ne  hath  no  wyf.     And  som  man  is  wel 
and  selily  y-maried,  but   he   hath  no 
children,  and  norissheth  his  richesses 
to  the  eyres  of  strange  folkcs.     And  no 
sum  man  is  gladed  with  children,  but 
he  wepeth   ful  sory  for  the  trespas  of 
his  sone  or  of  his  doughter.      And  for 
this  ther  ne  acordeth  no  wight  lightly 
to  the  condicioun  of  his  fortune;    for  115 
alwey  to  every  man  ther  is  in  som- 
what  that,  unassayed,  he  ne  wot  nat; 


146 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   II. 


or   elles   he    dredeth    that    he    hath 
assayed.     And    adde    this    also,    that 

120  every  weleful  man  hath  a  ful  delicat 
felinge;  sd  tl  at,  but-yif  alle  thinges 
bifalle  at  his  owne  wil,  for  he  is  im- 
pacient,  or  is  nat  used  to  han  non 
adversitee,  anon  he  is  throwen  adoun 

125  for  every  Htel  thing.  And  ful  litel 
thinges  ben  tho  that  withdrawen  the 
soninie  or  the  perfeocioun  of  lilisful- 
nesse  fro  hem  that  ben  most  fortunat. 
How  many  men,  trowest  thou,  wol- 

130  den  demen  hem-self  to  ben  almost  in 
hevene,  yif  they  mighten  atayne  to 
the  leest  party  of  the  remnaunt  of 
thy  fortune?  This  same  place  that 
thou  clepest  exil,  is  contree  to  hem 

135  that  enhabiten  heer,  and  furthy  noth- 
ing [is]  wrecched  l)ut  whan  thou 
wenest  it:  as  7vho  seith,  thou  thyself, 
ne  no  wight  elles,  nis  a  wrecche,  but 
■whan  he  weneth  'him-self  a  wrecche 

140  by  reputacioiin    of  his  corage.     And 

ayeinward,  alle  fortune  is  blisful  to  a 

man    by   the    agreabletee    or    by   the 

egalitee  of  him  that  suffreth   it. 

What  man  is  that,  that  is  so  wele- 

145  ful,  that  nolde  changen  his  estat  whan 
he  hath  lost  pacience  ?  The  swetnesse 
of  mantles  welcfulnesse  is  sprayned 
with  many  biternesses;  the  whiche 
welefulnesse,  al-though  it  seme  swete 

150  and  ioyful  to  hem  that  useth  it,  yit 
may  it  nat  ben  with-holden  that  it  ne 
goth  away  whan  it  wole.  Thanne  is 
it  wel  sene,  how  wrecched  is  the  blis- 
fulnesse  of  mortal  thinges,  that  neither 

155  it  dureth  perpetuel  with  hem  that  every 
fortune  receiven  agreablely  or  egaly, 
ne  it  delyteth  nat  in  al  to  hem  that 
ben  anguissous.  O  ye  mortal  folk, 
what  seke  ye  thanne  blisfulnesse  out 

160  of  your-self,  whiche  that  is  put  in 
your-self?  Errour  and  folye  con- 
foundeth  yow. 

I  shal  shewe  thee  shortely  the  poynt 
of  sovereyne  blisfulnesse.    Is  ther  any- 

if'S  thing  more  precious  to  thee  than  thy- 
self? Thou  wolt  answere,  "nay." 
Thanne,  yif  it  so  be  that  thou  art 
mighty  over  thy-self,  that  is  to  seyn, 
by  Iranquillilee  of  thy  sowle,  than  hast 

170  thou  thing  in   thy    power    that   thou 


noldest  never  lesen,  ne  Fortune  ne 
may  nat  beneme  it  thee.  And  that 
thou  mayst  knowe  that  blisfulnesse 
ne  may  nat  standen  in  thinges  that 
Ijen  fortunous  and  temporel,  now  175 
understonde  and  gader  it  to-gidere 
thus:  Yif  blisfulnesse  be  the  sovereyn 
gcjod  of  nature  that  liveth  by  resoun, 
ne  thilke  thing  nis  nat  sovereyn  good 
that  may  be  taken  awey  in  any  wyse,  180 
(for  more  worthy  thing  and  more 
digne  is  thilke  thing  that  may  nat 
ben  taken  awey) ;  than  sheweth  it 
wel,  that  the  unstablenesse  of  fortune 
may  nat  atayne  to  receiven  verrayi85 
blisfulnesse.  And  yit  more-over: 
what  man  that  this  toumbling  wele- 
fulnesse ledeth,  either  he  woot  that 
it  is  chaungeable,  or  elles  he  woot  it 
nat.  And  yif  he  woot  it  nat,  what  190 
blisful  fortune  may  ther  be  in  the 
blindnesse  of  ignorance?  And  yif  he 
woot  that  it  is  chaungeable,  he  moot 
alvvey  ben  adrad  that  he  ne  lese  that 
thing  that  he  ne  doubteth  nat  but  19S 
that  he  may  lesen  it;  as  who  seith,  he 
mot  ben  alwey  agast,  lest  he  lese  that 
he  wot  wel  he  may  lese  it.  For  which, 
the  continuel  dreed  that  he  hath  ne 
suffreth  him  nat  to  ben  weleful.  Or  200 
yif  he  lese  it,  he  weneth  to  be  dispysed 
and  forleten.  Cartes  eek,  that  is  a 
ful  litel  good  that  is  born  with  evene 
herte  whan  it  is  lost;  that  is  to  seyn, 
that  tnen  do  no  more  for s  of  the  losfi^'^^ 
than  of  the  havinge.  And  for  as  moche 
as  thou  thy-self  art  he,  to  whom  it 
hath  been  shewed  and  proved  by  ful 
manye  demonstraciouns,  as  I  wot  wel, 
that  the  sowles  of  men  ne  mowe  nat  210 
deyen  in  no  wyse;  and  eek  sin  it  is 
cleer  and  certein,  that  fortunous  wele- 
fulnesse endeth  by  the  deeth  of  the 
body;  it  may  nat  ben  douted  that, 
yif  that  deeth  may  take  awey  blis-215 
fulnesse,  that  alle  the  kinde  of  mortal 
thinges  ne  descendeth  in-to  wrecched- 
nesse  by  the  ende  of  the  deeth.  And 
sin  we  k  no  wen  wel,  that  many  a  man 
hath  sought  the  fruit  of  blisfulnesse  220 
nat  only  with  suftringe  of  deeth,  but 
eek  with  suftringe  of  peynes  and  tor- 
mcntt's;  how  mighte  than  this  present 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   11. 


H7 


lyf  niaken  men  hlisful,  sin  that,  whan 
223  tliilke  selve  lyf  is  ended,  it  ne  maketh 
fulk  no  wrecches? 

Metre  IV, 

Quis(jt4is  tiolct perennem  Catitus 
ponere  sedeni. 

What  maner  man,  stable  and  war, 
that  wule  fuunden  him  a  perdurable 
sete,  and  ne  wole  nat  ben  cast  down 
with  the  loude  blastes  of  the  wind 
5  Kurus;  and  wole  despyse  the  see, 
nianasinge  with  flodes;  lat  him  es- 
chewen  to  bilde  on  the  cop  of  the 
niountaigne  or  in  the  muiste  sandcs. 
For  the  felle  wind  Auster  tormenteth 

10  the  cop  of  the  mountaigne  with  all 
his  strengthes;  and  the  lause  sandes 
refusen  to  beren  the  hevy  wighte. 

And  forthy,  if  thou  wolt  fleen  the 
])crilous  aventure,  that  is  to  seyn,  of 

^h  tlu  u'0)-Ue  ;  have  minde  certeinly  to 
ficchen  thyn  hous  of  a  merye  site  in 
a  lowe  stoon.  For  al-though  the 
wind,  troubling  the  see,  thondre  with 
over-throwinges,  thou  that  art  put  in 

20quiete,  and  weleful  by  strengthe  of 
thy  palis,  shalt  leden  a  cleer  age, 
scorninge  the  woodnesses  and  the 
ires  of  the  eyr. 

Prose  V. 

Set  cum  rationuin  tarn  in  te. 

But  for  as  moche  as  the  norisshinges 
of  my  resouns  descenden  now  in-to 
thee,  I  trowe  it  were  tyme  to  usen  a 
litel  strenger  medicynes.  Now  under- 
5  stond  heer,  al  were  it  so  that  the  yiftes 
of  I'ortune  ne  were  nat  brutel  ne 
transitorie,  what  is  ther  in  hem  that 
may  be  thyn  in  any  tyme,  or  elles 
that  it  nis   foul,    yif  that  it   be  con- 

10  sidered  and  loked  perfitly  ?  Richesses, 
ben  they  precious  by  the  nature  of 
hem-self,  or  elles  by  the  nature  of 
thee?  What  is  most  worth  of  rich- 
esses?     Is    it    nat  gold   or   might   of 

■  Smuneye  assembled?  Certes,  thilke 
gold  and  thilke  moneye  shyneth  and 
ycveth  betere  renoun  to  hem  that 
despenden  it   thanne  to  thilke  folk 


30 


40 


that  mokeren  it;  for  avarice  maketh 
alwey  mokereres  to  l)en  hated,  and  20 
largesse  maketh  folk  cleer  of  renoun. 
For  sin  that  swich  thing  as  is  trans- 
ferred fram  o  man  to  another  ne  may 
nat  (hvellen  with  no  man;  certes, 
thanne  is  thilke  moneye  precious  25 
whan  it  is  translated  into  other  folk 
and  stenteth  to  ben  had,  by  usage  of 
large  yevinge  of  him  that  hath  yeven 
it.  And  also  :  yif  that  al  the  moneye 
that  is  over-al  in  the  worlde  were 
gadered  toward  o  man,  it  sholde 
maken  alle  other  men  to  ben  nedy  as 
of  that.  And  certes  a  voys  al  hool, 
that  is  to  seyn,  u<ith-ottte  avientisinge, 
fulfilleth  to-gidere  the  hering  of  moche  3 
folk ;  but  certes,  youre  richesses  ne 
mowen  nat  passen  in-to  moche  folke 
with-oute  amenusinge.  And  whan 
they  ben  apassed,  nedes  they  maken 
hem  pore  that  for-gon  the  richesses. 

O!  streite  and  nedy  clepe  I  this 
richesse,  sin  that  many  folk  ne  may 
nat  han  it  al,  ne  al  may  it  nat  comen 
to  o  man  w  ith-outen  povertee  of  alle 
other  folk  !  And  the  shyninge  of  45 
gemmes,  that  I  clepe  precious  stones, 
draweth  it  nat  the  eyen  of  folk  to 
hem-ward,  that  is  to  seyn,  for  the 
beautee?  But  certes,  yif  ther  were 
beautee  or  bountee  in  the  shyninge  5° 
of  stones,  thilke  cleernesse  is  of  the 
stones  hem-self,  and  nat  of  men;  for 
whiche  I  wondre  gretly  that  men 
niervailen  on  swiche  thinges.  For- 
why,  what  thing  is  it,  that  yif  it  wanteth  55 
moeving  and  loynture  of  sowle  and 
body,  that  by  right  mighte  semen  a 
fair  creature  to  him  that  hath  a  sowle 
of  resoun?  For  al  be  it  so  that 
gemmes  drawen  to  hem-self  a  litel  of  60 
the  laste  beautee  of  the  world, 
through  the  entente  of  hir  creatour 
and  through  the  distinccioun  of  hem- 
self;  yit,  for  as  mochel  as  they  ben 
put  under  youre  excellence,  they  ne  ^5 
han  nat  deserved  by  no  wey  that  ye 
sholden  niervailen  on  hem.  And  the 
beautee  of  feldes,  delyteth  it  nat 
mochel  un-to  yow?  ' 

Bot'ce.    '  Why  sholde  it  nat  delyten    7° 
us,  sin  that  it  is  a  right  fair  porcioun 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK  II. 


of  the  right  faire  werke,  that  is  to 
seyn,  of  this  world?  And  right  so 
ben  we  gladed  som-tyme  of  the  face 
75  of  the  see  whan  it  is  clear;  and  also 
mervailen  we  on  the  hevene  and  on 
the  sterres,  and  on  the  Sonne  and  on 
mone.' 

Philosophye.  '  Aperteneth,'  quod 
So  she, 'any  of  thilke  thinges  to  thee? 
Why  darst  thou  glorifyen  thee  in  the 
shyninge  of  any  swiche  thinges?  Art 
thou  distingwed  and  embelised  by  the 
springinge  floures  of  the  first  somer 
85  sesoun,  or  swelleth  thy  plentee  in  the 
fruites  of  somer?  Why  art  thou  rav- 
isshed  with  ydel  loyes?  Why  em- 
bracest  thou  straunge  goodes  as  they 
weren  thyne?  P'ortune  ne  shal  never 
gomaken  that  swiche  thinges  ben  thyne, 
that  nature  of  thinges  hath  maked 
foreine  fro  thee.  Sooth  is  that,  with- 
outen  doute,  the  frutes  of  the  erthe 
owen  to  ben  to  the  norissinge  of 
95  bestes.  And  yif  thou  wolt  fulfiUe  thy 
nede  after  that  it  suffyseth  to  nature, 
than  is  it  no  nede  that  thou  seke 
after  the  superfluitee  of  fortune. 
For  with  ful  fewe  things  and  with  ful 

loolitel  thinges  nature  halt  hir  apayed; 
and  yif  thou  wolt  achoken  the  fullil- 
linge  of  nature  with  superfluitees, 
certes,  thilke  thinges  that  thou  wolt 
thresten  or  pouren  in-to  nature  shul- 

105  len  ben  unioyful  to  thee,  or  elles 
anoyous.  Wenest  thou  eek  that  it 
be  a  fair  thing  to  shyne  with  dyverse 
clothinge?  Of  whiche  clothinge  yif 
the  beautee    be    agreeable  to    loken 

no  up-on,  I  wol  mervailen  on  the  nature 
of  the  matere  of  thilke  clothes,  or 
elles  on  the  werkman  that  wroughte 
hem.  But  also  a  long  route  of 
meynee,  maketh  that  a  blisful  man? 

115  The  whiche  servants,  yif  they  ben 
vicious  of  condiciouns,  it  is  a  great 
charge  and  a  distruccioun  to  the 
hous,  and  a  greet  enemy  to  the  lord 
him-self.     And    yif  they    ben   goode 

120  men,  how  shal  straunge  or  foreine 
goodnesse  ben  put  in  the  noumbre  of 
thy  richesse?  So  that,  by  all  these 
foreseide  thinges,  it  is  clearly 
y-shewed,    that   never  oon   of  thilke 


thinges    that    thou    acountedest    for  125 
thyne  goodes  nas  nat  thy  good.     In 
the   whiche    thinges,  yif  ther  be   no 
beautee  to  ben  desyretl,  why  sholdest 
thou  ben  sory  yif  thou  lese  hem,  or 
why   sholdest  thou  reioysen   thee   to  130 
holden  hem?     P'or  yif  they  ben  faire 
of  hir   ovvne  kinde,  what  aperteneth 
that  to  thee?     For  al  so  wel  sholden 
they    han    ben     faire    by    hem-selve, 
though    they    weren    departed    fram  135 
alle    thyne    richesses.     Forwhy    faire 
ne   precious   ne  weren  they  nat,    for 
that  they  comen  among  thy  richesses; 
but,    for    they   semeden     faire     and 
precious,  ther-for  thou  haddest  lever  140 
rekne  hem  amonges  thy  richesses. 

But  what  desirest  thou  of  Fortune 
with  so  grete  a  noise,  and  with  so 
grete  a  fare?  I  trowe  thou  seke  to 
dryve  awey  nede  with  habundaunce  145 
of  thinges;  but  certes,  it  torneth  to 
you  al  in  the  contrarie.  Forwhy 
certes,  it  nedeth  of  ful  manye  help- 
inges  to  kepen  the  diversitee  of 
precious  ostelments.  And  sooth  it  150 
is,  that  of  manye  thinges  han  they 
nede  that  manye  thinges  han;  and 
ayeinward,  of  litel  nedeth  hem  that 
mesuren  hir  fille  after  the  nede  of 
kinde,  and  nat  after  the  outrage  of  155 
coveityse.  Is  it  thanne  so,  that  ye 
men  ne  han  no  proper  good  y-set  in 
you,  for  which  ye  moten  seken  out- 
ward youre  goodes  in  foreine  and 
subgit  thinges?  So  is  thanne  the  160 
condicioun  of  thinges  torned  up-so- 
down,  that  a  man,  that  is  a  devyne 
beest  by  merite  of  his  resoun,  think- 
eth  that  him-self  nis  neither  faire  ne 
noble,  but-yif  it  be  thorugh  posses- 165 
sioun  of  ostelments  that  ne  han  no 
sowles.  And  certes,  al  other  thinges 
ben  apayed  of  hir  owne  beautee; 
but  ye  men,  that  ben  semblable  to 
god  by  your  resonable  thought,  de- 170 
siren  to  aparailen  your  excellent  kinde 
of  the  lowest  thinges;  ne  ye  under- 
stonden  nat  how  greet  a  wrong  ye 
don  to  your  creatour.  For  he  wolde 
that  mankinde  were  most  worthy  and  i75 
noble  of  any  othre  erthely  thinges; 
and  ye  threste  adoun  your  dignitees 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK    II. 


149 


benethe  the  lowest  thinges.     l'\)r  yif 
that  al  the  good  of  every  thinge   he 

iSomore  precious  than  is  thill^e  thing 
whos  tliat  tlie  good  is :  sin  ye  demen 
that  the  fouleste  thinges  ben  youre 
gooiles,  thanne  submitten  ye  and 
putten  your-selven  under  tho  fouleste 

1S5  tiiiiiges  by  your  estimaeioun;  and 
certcs,  this  tydcth  nat  wilh-oute  youre 
desertes.  For  certes,  swiche  is  the 
condicioun  of  alle  niankinde,  that 
only  whan   it  hath   knowinge   of   it- 

iQoselve,  than  passeth  it  in  nol)lesse  alle 
other  thinges;  and  whan  it  forleteth 
the  knowinge  of  it-self,  than  is  it 
brought  binethen  alle  beestes.  P'or- 
why  al   other  livinge   beestes  han  of 

i95kinde  to  knowe  nat  hem-self;  but 
whan  that  men  leten  the  knowinge 
of  hemself,  it  cometh  hem  of  vice. 
But  how  brode  sheweth  the  errour 
anil  the  folye  of  yow  men,  that  wenen 

200  that  any  thing  may  been  aparailed 
with  straunge  aparailements  !  But 
for  sothe  that  may  nat  ben  doon. 
l""or  yif  a  wight  shyneth  with  thinges 
that  ben  put  to  him,  as  thus,  if  thilke 

205  thinges  shynen  with  which  a  man  is 
aparailed,  certes,  thilke  thinges  ben 
comended  and  preysed  with  which 
he  is  aparailed ;  but  natheles,  the 
thing   that   is    covered  and  wrapped 

210  under  that  dwelleth  in  his  filthe. 

And  I  denye  that  thilke  thing  be 
good  that  anoyeth  him  that  hath 
it.  Gabbe  I  of  this?  Thou  wolt 
seye  "  nay."      Certes,  richesses   han 

215  anoyed  ful  ofte  hem  that  han  tho 
richesses;  sin  that  every  wikked 
shrewe,  (and  for  his  wikkednesse  the 
more  gredy  after  other  folkes  rich- 
esses, wher-so  ever  it  be  in  any  place, 

220  be  it  gold  or  precious  stones),  weneth 
him  only  most  worthy  that  hath  hem. 
Thou  thanne,  that  so  bisy  dredest 
now  the  swerd  and  now  the  spere, 
yif  thou  haddest  entred  in  the  path 

225  of  this  lyf  a  voide  wayferinge  man, 
than  woldest  thou  singe  beforn  the 
theef;  as  who  seith,  a  pore  man, 
that  berth  no  riehesse  on  him  by  the 
weye,  may  boldely  singe  biforn  theves, 

22,0 for  he  hath  nat  wherof  to  ben  robbed. 


O  precious  and  right  clear  is  the 
blisfulnesse  of  mortal  riciiesses,  that, 
whan  thou  hast  geten  it,  than  hast 
thou  lorn  thy  sikernesse  ! 

Mktke    V. 
Felix  nimium  prior  etas. 

Blisful  was  the  first  age  of  men  ! 
They  helden  hem  apayed  with  the 
metes  that  the  trewe  feldes  broughten 
forth.  They  ne  distroyede  nor  de- 
ceivede  nat  hem-self  with  outrage.  .5 
They  weren  wont  lightly  to  slaken  hir 
hunger  at  even  with  acurnes  of  okes. 
They  ne  coude  nat  medly  the  yifte 
of  Bachus  to  the  cleer  hony  ;  that  is 
to  seyn,  they  coude  make  no  pi/nent  10 
nor  clarree ;  ne  they  coude  nat  medle 
the  brighte  fleeses  of  the  contree  of 
Seriens  with  the  venim  of  Tyrie  ; 
this  is  to  seyn,  they  coude  nat  deyen 
whyte  fleeses  of  Serien  contree  'with  the  15 
blode  of  a  maner  shelfisshe  that  men 
fiuden  in  Tyrie,  with  whiche  blood 
men  deyen  purpur.  They  slepen 
hoolsom  slepes  up-on  the  gras,  and 
dronken  of  the  renninge  wateres  ;  20 
and  layen  under  the  shadwes  of  the 
heye  pyn-trees.  Ne  no  gest  ne 
straungere  ne  carf  yit  the  heye  see 
with  ores  or  with  shippes  ;  ne  they 
ne  hadde  seyn  yit  none  newe  strondes,  25 
to  leden  marchaundyse  in-to  dyverse 
contrees.  Tho  weren  the  cruel  clari- 
ouns  ful  bust  and  ful  stille,  ne  blood 
y-shad  by  egre  hate  ne  hadde  nat 
deyed  yit  armures.  For  wher-to  or  30 
which  woodnesse  of  enemys  wolde 
first  moeven  armes,  whan  they  seyen 
cruel  woundes,  ne  none  medes  be  of 
blood  y-shad  ? 

I  wolde  that  oure  tymes  sholde  35 
torne  ayein  to  the  olde  maneres  ! 
But  the  anguissous  love  of  havinge 
brenneth  in  folk  more  cruely  than  the 
fyr  of  the  mountaigne  Ethna,  that  ay 
brenneth.  Alias  !  what  was  he  that  40 
first  dalf  up  the  gobetes  or  the 
weightcs  of  gold  covered  under  erthe, 
and  the  precious  stones  that  wolden 
han  ben  hid  ?  He  dalf  up  pre- 
cious  perils.      Thai  is  to  seyn,  that  45 


15° 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   II. 


he  that  hem  first  up  dalf,  he  dalf  up 
a  precious  peril;  for-zuhy  for  the 
preciousnesse  of  siviche  thinge,  hath 
many  man  ben  in  peril. 

Prose  VI. 

Quid  autem  de  dignitatibus. 

But  what  shal  I  £eye  of  dignitees 
and  of  powers,  the  whiche  ye  men, 
that  neither  knowen  verray  dignitee 
ne  vi^rray  power,  areysen  hem  as  heye 
5  as  the  hevene  ?  The  whiche  dignitees 
and  powers,  yif  they  comen  to  any 
wikked  man,  they  don  as  grete  dam- 
ages and  destracciouns  as  doth  the 
flaumbe    of   the    mountaigne    Ethna, 

10  whan  the  flaumbe  walweth  up;  ne 
no  deluge  ne  doth  so  cruel  harmes. 
Certes,  thee  remembreth  wel,  as  I 
trowe,  that  thilke  dignitee  that  men 
clepen  the  imperie  of  consulers,  the 

15  whiche  that  whylom  was  beginninge 
of  fredom,  youre  eldres  coveiteden 
to  han  don  away  that  dignitee,  for 
the  pryde  of  the  consulers.  And 
right  for  the  same  pryde  your  eldres, 

2obiforn  that  tyme,  hadden  don  awey, 
out  of  the  citee  of  Rome,  the  kinges 
name  ;  that  is  to  seyn,  they  nolde  hatt 
no  lenger  no  king.  But  now,  yif  so 
be  that  dignitees  and  powers  be  yeven 

25  to  goode  men,  the  whiche  thing  is 
ful  selde,  what  agreable  thing  is  ther 
in  tho  dignitees  or  powers  but  only 
the  goodnesse  of  folkes  that  usen 
hem  ?     And  therfor   it   is   thus,   that 

30  honour  ne  comth  nat  to  vertu  for 
cause  of  dignitee,  but  ayeinward 
honour  comth  to  dignitee  for  cause 
of  vertu.  But  whiche  is  thilke  youre 
dereworthe   power,  that    is    so    cleer 

35  and  so  requerable?  O  ye  ertheliche 
bestes,  considere  ye  nat  over  which 
thinge  that  it  semeth  that  ye  han 
power?  Now  yif  thou  saye  a  mous 
amonges  other  mys,  that  chalaunged 

40  to  him-self-ward  right  and  power  over 
alle  other  mys,  how  greet  scorn 
woldest  thou  han  of  it !  Glosa.  So 
fareth  it  by  men  ;  the  body  hath  porver 
over  the  body.     For  yif  thou  loke  wel 

45  up-on  the  body  of  a  wight,  what  thing 


shalt  thou  finde  more  freele  than  is 
mankinde  ;  the  whiche  men  wel  ofte 
ben  slayn  with  bytinge  of  smale  flyes, 
or  elles  with  the  entringe  of  crepinge 
wormes  in-to  the  privetees  of  mannes  50 
body  ?  But  wher  shal  man  finden 
any  man  that  may  exercen  or  haunten 
any  right  up-on  another  man,  but 
only  up-on  his  body,  or  elles  up-on 
thinges  that  ben  lowere  than  the  55 
body,  the  whiche  I  clepe  fortunous 
possessiouns  ?  Mayst  thou  ever  have 
any  comaundement  over  a  free  cor- 
age  ?  Mayst  thou  remuen  fro  the 
estat  of  his  propre  reste  a  thought  60 
that  is  clyvinge  to-gidere  in  him-self 
by  stedefast  resoun  ?  As  whylom  a 
tyraunt  wende  to  confounde  a  free 
man  of  corage,  and  wende  to  con- 
streyne  him  by  torment,  to  maken  him  65 
discoveren  and  acusen  folk  that  wis- 
ten  of  a  coniuracioun,  which  I  clepe 
a  confederacie,  that  was  cast  ayeins 
this  tyraunt  :  but  this  free  man  boot 
of  his  owne  tonge  and  caste  it  in  the  70 
visage  of  thilke  wode  tyraunt ;  so  that 
the  torments  that  this  tyraunt  wende 
to  han  maked  matere  of  crueltee,  this 
wyse  man  maked  it  matere  of  vertu. 

But   what   thing  is   it   that   a  man    75 
may  don  to  another  man,  that  he  ne 
may  receyven  the  same  thing  of  othre 
folk  in  him-self:    or  thus,  what  may 
a  man  don  to  folk,  that  folk  ne  inay 
don  him  the  same  ?     I  have  herd  told   80 
of  Busirides,  that  was  wont  to  sleen 
his  gestes    that    herberweden   in    his 
hous;    and  he  was  sleyn  him-self  of 
Ercules  that  was  his  gest.     Regulus 
hadde  taken  in  bataile  many  men  of  85 
Affrike  and   cast   hem   in-to   feteres; 
but    sone    after    he    moste    yeve    his 
handes    to     ben     bounde    with     the 
cheynes  of  hem  that  he  hadde  why- 
lom overcomen.     Wenest  thou  thanne   90 
that  he  be  mighty,  that  hath  no  power 
to  don  a  thing,  that  othre  ne  may  don 
in  him  that  he  doth  in  othre?     And 
yit  more-over,  yif  it  so  were  that  thise 
dignitees    or    poweres    hadden    any   95 
propre  or  natural  goodnesse  in  hem- 
self,    never    nolden    they    comen    to 
shrewes.     For  contrarious  thinges  ne 


KOETHIUS.     BOOK    II. 


151 


ben   nat  wont   to  ben   y-felawshiped 

ioott)-gidere.  Nature  rcfusctli  thr.t  con- 
trarious  thin^es  ben  y-ioif^ned.  And 
so,  as  I  am  in  ceitcin  that  right  wik- 
ked  folk  ban  dignitees  t)fte  tyme, 
than   shewcth    it    vvel    that    dignitees 

105  and  powers  ne  ben  nat  goode  of  hir 
owne  kinde;  sin  that  they  suffren 
hem-self  to  eleven  or  ioinen  hem  to 
shrewes.  And  ccrtes,  the  same  thing 
may  I  most  digneliche  iugen  and  seyn 

1 10  of  alle  the  yiftes  of  fortune  that  most 
plentevt)usly  comen  to  shrewes;  of 
the  whiche  yiftes,  I  trowe  that  it 
oughte  ben  considered,  that  no  man 
douteth  that  he  nis  strong  in  whom 

115  he  seeth  strengthe;  and  in  whom 
that  swiftnesse  is,  sooth  it  is  that  he 
is  swift.  Also  musike  maketh  niusi- 
ciens,  and  phisike  maketh  phisiciens, 
and  rbethorike  rethoriens.     For-why 

120  the  nature  of  every  thing  maketh  his 
propretee,  ne  it  is  nat  entremedled 
with  the  effects  of  the  contrarious 
thinges;  and,  as  of  wil,  it  chaseth  out 
thinges  that  ben  to  it  contrarie.     But 

i25certes,  richesse  may  not  restreyne 
avarice  unstaunched;  ne  power  ne 
maketh  nat  a  man  mighty  over  him- 
self, whiche  that  vicious  lustes  holden 
destreyned    with    cheynes    that    ne 

i3omowen  nat  be  unbounden.  And 
dignitees  that  ben  yeven  to  shrewede 
folk  nat  only  ne  maketh  hem  nat 
digne,  Ijut  it  sheweth  rather  al  openly 
that  they  ben  unworthy  and  undigne. 

135  And  why  is  it  thus?  Certes,  for  ye 
han  love  to  clepen  thinges  with  false 
names  that  beren  hem  alle  in  the  con- 
trarie; the  whiche  names  ben  ful 
ofte  reproeved  by  the  effecte  of  the 

140 same  thinges;  so  that  thise  ilke  rich- 
esses  ne  oughten  nat  by  right  to  ben 
cleped  richesses;  ne  swich  power  ne 
oughte  nat  ben  cleped  power;  ne 
swich    dignitee    ne    oughte    nat    ben 

145  cleped  dignitee. 

And  at  the  laste,  I  may  conclude 
the  same  thing  of  alle  the  yiftes  of 
Fortune,  in  which  ther  nis  nothing  to 
ben  desired,  ne  that  hath  in  him-self 

150  naturel  hountee,  as  it  is  ful  wel  y-senc. 
For  neither  they  ne  ioignen  hem  nat 


alwey  to  goode  men,  ne  maken  hem 
alwey  goode  to  whom  that  they  ben 
y-ioigned. 

Mktre  VI. 

xVotiiinus  quantas  dcderit  rtiinas. 

We  han  wel  knowen  how  many 
grete  harmes  and  destrucciouns 
weren  don  bv  the  eni/^eror  Nero.  He 
lect  l)renne  the  citee  of  Rome,  and 
made  slecn  the  senatoures.  And  he,  5 
cruel,  whylom  slew  his  brother;  and 
he  was  maked  moist  with  the  blood 
of  his  nioder ;  that  is  to  seyn,  he  lect 
sleen  and  slitten  the  Iwdy  of  his  moder, 
to  seen  zvher  he  u'as  conceived;  and  10 
he  loked  on  every  halve  up-on  her 
colde  dede  body,  ne  no  tere  ne  wette 
his  face,  but  he  was  so  hard-herted 
that  he  mighte  ben  domes-man  or 
luge  of  hir  dede  beautee.  And  15 
natheles,  yit  governede  this  A'ero 
by  ceptre  alle  the  poeples  that  Phe- 
bus  the  Sonne  may  seen,  cominge 
from  his  outereste  arysinge  til  he 
hyde  his  bemes  under  the  wawes;  20 
that  is  to  seyn,  he  g'OTcrned  alle  the 
poeples  by  ceptre  imperial  that  the 
Sonne  goth  abotite,  from  est  to  7vest. 
And  eek  this  A^ero  governed  by  ceptre 
alle  the  poeples  that  ben  under  the  25 
colde  sterres  that  highten  "  septem 
triones";  this  is  to  seyn,  he  gov- 
ernede alle  the  poeples  that  ben  under 
the  party  of  the  north.  And  eek 
Nero  governed  alle  the  poeples  that  30 
the  violent  wmd  Nothus  scorkleth, 
and  baketh  the  brenning  sandes  by 
his  drye  hete;  that  is  to  seyn,  alle  the 
poeples  in  the  south.  But  yit  ne 
mighte  nat  al  his  hye  power  tome  35 
the  woodnesse  of  this  wikked  Nero. 
Alias !  it  is  a  grevous  fortune,  as 
ofte  as  wikked  swerd  is  ioigned  to 
cruel  venim;  that  is  to  seyn,  veni- 
mous  crueltee  to  lordshippe.'  40 

Prose  VII. 

Turn  ego,  scis,  inquam. 

Thanne  seyde  I   thus:  'Thou  west 
wel    thy-self    that    the    coveitise    of 


152 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   II. 


mortal  thinges  ne  hadde  never  Icjrd- 
shipe  of  me;  but  I  have  wel  desired 
5  matere  of  thinges  to  done,  as  who 
seith,  I  desire  to  han  matere  of  gov - 
ernaunce  over  cotiiunalitees,  for  vertu, 
stille,  ne  sholde  nat  elden;  '  that  is  to 
scyn,  that  \Jiini\  teste  that,  or  he  ivcx 

10  otite,  his  vertu,  that  lay  now  fid  stille, 
lie  should  nat  perisshe  unexercised  in 
governaunce  of  coinune ;  for  which 
men  mighten  speken  or  wryten  of  his 
goode  governemeiit. 

15  Philosophye.  '  For  sothe,'  quod 
she,  '  and  that  is  a  thing  that  may 
drawen  to  governaunce  swiche  hertes 
as  ben  worthy  and  noble  of  hir 
nature;     but    natheles,    it    may    nat 

20  drawen  or  tollen  swiche  hertes  as 
ben  y-brought  to  the  fuUe  perfeccioun 
of  vertu,  that  is  to  seyn,  coveitise  of 
glorie  and  renoun  to  han  wel  admin- 
istred    the    comune    thinges    or    don 

25  gode  desertes  to  profit  of  the  coinune. 
P'or  see  now  and  considere,  how  litel 
and  how  voide  of  alle  prys  is  thilke 
glorie.  Certein  thing  is,  as  thou  hast 
lerned    by    the     demonstracioun    of 

3oastron()mye,  that  al  the  environinge 
of  the  erthe  aboute  ne  halt  nat  but 
the  resoun  of  a  prikke  at  regard  of  the 
greetnesse  of  hevene;  that  is  to  seyn, 
that    yif  ther  were   maked  compari- 

35  soun  of  the  erthe  to  the  greetnesse 
of  hevene,  men  wolden  iugen  in  al, 
that  the  erthe  ne  helde  no  space. 
Of  the  whiche  litel  regioun  of  this 
worlde,  the  ferthe  partye  is  enhahited 

40  with  livinge  bestes  that  we  knowen, 
as  thou  thyself  hast  y-lerned  by  Tho- 
lomee  that  proveth  it.  And  yif  thou 
haddest  vvith-drawen  and  abated  in 
thy  thought  fro  thilke  ferthe   partye 

45  as  moche  space  as  the  see  and  the 
mareys  contenen  and  over-goon,  and 
as  moche  space  as  the  regioun  of 
droughte  over-streccheth,  that  is  to 
seyn,  sandes  and  desertes,  wel  unnethe 

50  sholde  ther  dwellen  a  right  streit 
place  to  the  habitacioun  of  men. 
And  ye  thanne,  that  ben  environed 
and  closed  with-in  the  leste  prikke  of 
thilke    prikke,  thinken    ye  to    mani- 

55  festen   your   renoun   and  don   youre 


name  to  ben  born  forth?  But  your 
glorie,  that  is  so  narwe  and  so  streite 
y-throngen  in-to  so  litel  boundes,  how 
mochel  coveiteth  it  in  largesse  and 
in  greet  doinge?  And  also  sette  this  60 
there-to:  that  many  a  nacioun,  dy- 
verse  of  tonge  and  of  maneres  and 
eek  of  resoun  of  hir  livinge,  ben 
enhabited  in  the  clos  of  thilke  litel 
habitacle;  to  the  whiche  naciouns,  65 
what  for  difficultee  of  weyes  and  what 
for  dyversitee  of  langages,  and  what 
for  defaute  of  unusage  and  entre- 
comuninge  of  marchaundise,  nat  only 
the  names  of  singuler  men  ne  may  70 
nat  strecchen,  but  eek  the  fame  of 
citees  ne  may  nat  strecchen.  At  the 
laste,  certes,  in  the  tyme  of  Marcus 
Tullius,  as  him-self  writ  in  his  book, 
that  the  renoun  of  the  comune  75 
of  Rome  ne  hadde  nat  yit  passed 
ne  cloumben  over  the  mountaigne 
that  highte  Caucasus;  and  yit  was, 
thilke  tyme,  Rome  wel  waxen  and 
greetly  redouted  of  the  Parthes  and  So 
eek  of  other  folk  enhalntinge  aboute. 
Seestow  nat  thanne  how  streit  and 
how  compressed  is  thilke  glorie  that 
ye  travailen  aboute  to  shewe  and  to 
multiplye?  May  thanne  the  glorie  of  85 
a  singuler  Romaine  strecchen  thider 
as  the  fame  of  the  name  of  Rome 
may  nat  climben  ne  passen?  And 
eek,  seestow  nat  that  the  maneres  of 
dyverse  folk  and  eek  hir  lawes  ben  90 
discordaunt  among  hem-self;  so  that 
thilke  thing  that  som  men  iugen 
worthy  of  preysinge,  other  folk  iugen 
that  it  is  worthy  of  torment?  And 
ther-of  comth  it  that,  though  a  man  95 
delyte  him  in  preysinge  of  his  renoun, 
he  may  nat  in  no  wyse  bringen  forth 
ne  spreden  his  name  to  many  maner 
poeples.  There-for  every  man  oughte 
to  ben  apayed  of  his  glorie  that  is  100 
publisshed  among  his  owne  neigh- 
bours; and  thilke  noble  renoun  shal 
ben  restreyned  within  the  boundes  of 
o  manere  folke.  But  how  many  a 
man,  that  was  ful  noble  in  his  tyme,  105 
hath  the  wrecched  and  nedy  foryet- 
inge  of  wryteres  put  out  of  minde 
and   don    awey !     Al   be  it  so  that, 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   II. 


153 


ceitcs,  thilUe  wrytinges  proHten  litel; 

110  the  whichc  wrytiiiges  long  and  derk 
clde  duth  awey,  bothe  hem  and  eek 
hir  autuurs.  But  ye  men  semen  to 
geten  vow  a  perdurahletee,  whan  ye 
thenkcn    that,    in    tymc    to-cominge, 

115  your  fame  shal  lasten.  But  natheles, 
yif  thou  wok  maken  comparisoun  to 
the  endeles  spaces  of  eternitee,  what 
thing  hast  thou  by  whiche  thou  mayst 
reioysen  thee  of  long  lastinge  of  thy 

120  name?  For  yif  ther  were  maked 
comparisoun  of  the  aljytlinge  of  a 
moment  to  ten  thousand  winter,  for 
as  mochcl  as  bothe  the  spaces  ben 
eiulcd,    yit    hath    the    moment    som 

125  porcioun  of  it,  al-though  it  litel  be. 
liut  natheles,  thilke  selve  noumbre  of 
yeres,  and  eek  as  many  yeres  as 
ther-to  may  be  multiplyed,  ne  may 
nat,  certes,  ben  comparisoned  to  the 

130  perdurabletee  that  is  endeles;  for  of 
thinges  that  han  ende  may  be  maked 
comparisoun,  but  of  thinges  that  ben 
with-outen  ende,  to  thinges  that  han 
ende,    may   be    maked    no    compari- 

135  soun.  And  forthy  is  it  that,  al-though 
renoun,  of  as  long  tyme  as  ever  thee 
list  to  thinken,  were  thought  to  the 
regard  of  eternitee,  that  is  unstaunch- 
able  anil  inhnit,  it  ne  sholde  nat  only 

140  semen  litel,  but  pleynliche  right 
naught.  But  ye  men,  certes,  ne 
conne  don  nothing  a-right,  but-yif  it 
be  for  the  audience  of  poeple  and  for 
ydel  rumours;    and   ye   forsaken   the 

145  grete  worthinesse  of  conscience  and 
of  vertu,  anti  ye  seken  your  guer- 
douns  of  the  smale  wordes  of 
straunge  folk. 

Have  now  hear  and   understonde, 

150  in  the  lightnesse  of  swich  pryde  and 
veine  glorie,  how  a  man  scornede 
festivaly  and  merily  swich  vanitee. 
Whylom  ther  was  a  man  that  hadde 
assayed    with    stryvinge    wordes    an- 

155  other  man,  the  whiche,  nat  for  usage 
of  verray  vertu  but  for  proud  veine 
glorie,  had  taken  up-on  him  falsly 
the  name  of  a  philosophre.  This 
rather  man  that  I spak  c)/"thoughte  he 

160  wolde  assaye,  wher  he,  thilke,  were  a 
philosophre  or  no;   that  is  to  scyn, 


yif  that  he  wolde  han  suffred  lightly 
in  pacience  the  wronges  that  weren 
don  un-to  him.  This  feynede  philos- 
ophre took  pacience  a  litel  whyle,  1O5 
and,  whan  he  hadde  received  wortles 
of  outrage,  he,  as  in  stryvinge  ayein 
and  reioysinge  of  him-self,  seyde  at 
the  laste  right  thus  :  "  understondest 
thou  nat  that  I  am  a  philosophre?  "  170 
That  other  man  answerde  ayein  ful 
bytingly,  and  seyde :  "  I  hadde  wel 
understonden  it,  yif  thou  haddest 
holden  thy  tonge  stille."  But  what 
is  it  to  thise  noble  worthy  men  (for,  175 
certes,  of  swiche  folke  speke  1)  that 
seken  glorie  with  vertu?  What  is  it?  ' 
quod  she;  'what  atteyneth  fame  to 
swiche  folk,  whan  the  body  is  resolved 
by  the  deeth  at  the  laste?  For  yif  it  180 
so  be  that  men  dyen  in  al,  that  is  to 
seyn,  body  and soivle,  the  whiche  thing 
our  resoun  defendeth  us  to  bileven, 
thanne  is  ther  no  glorie  in  no  wyse. 
For  what  sholde  thilke  glorie  ben,  185 
whan  he,  of  whom  thilke  glorie  is 
seyd  to  be,  nis  right  naught  in  no 
wyse?  And  yif  the  sowle,  whiche 
that  hath  in  it-self  science  of  goode 
werkes,  unbounden  fro  the  prison  of  190 
the  erthe,  wendeth  frely  to  the  hevene, 
despyseth  it  nat  thanne  alle  erthely 
occupacioun;  and,  being  in  hevene, 
reioyseth  that  it  is  exempt  fro  alle 
erthely  thinges?  As  who  seith,  thanne  195 
rekketh  the  so7vle  of  no  glorie  of  renoun 
of  this  world. 

Metre  VII. 

Quicunque  solam  mente  praecipiti 
petit. 

Who-so  that,  with  overthrowinge 
thought,  only  seketh  glorie  of  fame, 
and  weneth  that  it  be  sovereyn  good  : 
lat  him  loken  up-on  the  brode  shew- 
inge  contrees  of  hevene,  and  up-on  5 
the  streite  site  of  this  erthe;  and  he 
shal  l)en  ashamed  of  the  encrees  of 
his  name,  that  may  nat  fulfille  the 
litel  compas  of  the  erthe.  O  !  what 
coveiten  proude  folk  to  liften  up  hir  10 
nekkes  in  ydel  in  the  dedly  yok  of 
this  worlde?     For  al-though  that  re- 


154 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   II, 


noun  y-sprad,  passinge  to  feme  poe- 
ples,   goth    liy   dyverse    tonges;    and 

i5al-though  that  grete  houses  or  kin- 
redes  shynen  with  clere  titles  of  hon- 
ours; yit,  natheles,  deeth  despyseth 
alle  heye  glorie  of  fame :  and  deeth 
wrappeth  to-gidere  the  heye  hevedes 

20  and  the  lovve,  and  niaketh  egal  and 
evene  the  heyeste  to  the  loweste. 
Wher  wonen  now  the  bones  of  trewe 
Fabricius?  What  is  now  Brutus,  or 
stierne   Catoun?     The    thinne    fame, 

25  yit  lastinge,  of  hir  ydel  names,  is 
marked  with  a  fcwe  lettres;  but  al- 
though that  we  han  knowen  the  faire 
wordes  of  the  fames  of  hem,  it  is  nat 
yeven  to  knovve  hem  that  ben  dede 

joandconsumpte.  Liggeththannestille, 
al  outrely  unknowal)le;  ne  fame  ne 
maketh  yow  nat  knowe.  And  yif  ye 
wene  to  liven  the  longer  for  winde 
of  your   mortal  name,  whan  o  cruel 

35  day  shal  ravisshe  yow,  thanne  is  the 
seconde  deeth  dwellinge  un-to  yow.' 
Glose.  The  first  dccih  he  clepeih  heer 
the  dcpartiiigc  of  the  body  and  the 
sowle  ;  and  the  seconde  deeth  he  clepeth, 

^oas  heer,  the  stiiitinge  of  the  renoun  of 
fame. 

Prose  VIII. 

Set   ne   me    inexorabile   contra   for- 
tunani. 

'  But  for  as  mochel  as  thou  shalt 
nat  wenen,'  quod  she,  '  that  I  bere 
untretable  bataile  ayeins  fortune,  yit 
som-tyme  it  Ijifalleth  that  she,  decey- 
5  vable,  deserveth  to  han  right  good 
thank  of  men;  and  that  is,  whan  she 
hir-self  opneth,  and  whan  she  des- 
covereth  hir  frount,  and  sheweth  hir 
maneres.       Peraventure     yit    under- 

lostondest  thou  nat  that  I  shal  seye. 
It  is  a  wonder  that  I  desire  to  telle, 
and  forthy  unnethe  may  I  unpleyten 
my  sentence  with  wordes;  for  I  deme 
that    contrarious     Fortune    profiteth 

15  more  to  men  than  Fortune  debonaire. 
For  alwey,  whan  Fortune  semeth 
debonaire,  than  she  lyeth  falsly  in 
bihetinge  the  hope  of  welefulnesse; 
but   forsothe    contrarious   Fortune   is 


alwey  soothfast,  whan  she  sheweth  20 
hir-self  unstable  thoiugh  hir  chaung- 
inge.  The  amiable  Fortune  deccyveth 
folk;  the  contrarie  Fortune  techeth. 
The  amiable  Fortune  bindeth  with  the 
beautee  of  false  goodes  the  hertes  of  25 
folk  that  usen  hem;  the  contrarie 
Fortune  unbindeth  hem  by  the  know- 
inge  of  freele  welefulnesse.  The  ami- 
able Fortune  mayst  thou  seen  alwey 
windy  and  flowinge,  and  ever  mis-  30 
knowinge  of  hir-self;  the  contrarie 
Fortune  is  atempre  and  restreyned, 
and  wys  thorugh  exercise  of  hir  ad- 
versitee.  At  the  laste,  amiable  For- 
tune with  hir  flateringes  draweth  35 
miswandringe  men  fro  the  sovereyne 
good;  the  contrarious  Fortune  ledeth 
ofte  folk  ayein  to  soothfast  goodes, 
and  haleth  hem  ayein  as  with  an 
hooke.  VVenest  thou  thanne  that  40 
thou  oughtest  to  leten  this  a  litel 
thing,  that  this  aspre  and  horrible 
Fortune  hath  discovered  to  thee  the 
thoughtes  of  thy  trewe  freendes?  For- 
why  this  ilke  Fortune  hath  departed  45 
and  uncovered  to  thee  bothe  the  cer- 
tein  visages  and  eek  the  doutous 
visages  of  thy  felavves.  Whan  she 
departed  awey  fro  thee,  she  took 
awey  hir  freendes,  and  lafte  thee  50 
thyne  freendes.  Now  whan  thou 
were  riche  and  weleful,  as  thee 
semede,  with  how  mochel  woldest 
thou  han  bought  the  fulle  knowinge 
of  this,  that  is  to  seyn,  the  knoivinge  55 
of  thy  verray  freendes?  Now  pleyne 
thee  nat  thanne  of  richesse  y-lorn, 
sin  thou  hast  founden  the  moste 
precious  kinde  of  richesses,  that  is  to 
seyn,  thy  verray  freendes.  60 

Metre  VIII. 

Quod  mtindus  stabili fide. 

That  the  world  with  stable  feith 
varieth  acordable  chaunginges;  that 
the  contrarious  qualitee  of  elements 
holden  among  hem-self  aliaunce  per- 
durable; that  Phebus  the  sonne  with  5 
his  goldene  chariet  bringeth  forth 
the  rosene  day;  that  the  mone  hath 
commaundement    over    the    nightes, 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III, 


ISS 


which  nightes  Hesperus  the  evesterre 

10  hath   hiuught;    that    the   see,  greedy 

to  flowen,  constreyneth    with   a   cer- 

tein  eiule  hise  flodes,  so  that  it  is  nat 

leveful  to  strecche  liise  hroiie  termes 

or  bounties  up-on  the  erthes,  that  is 

i^/o  Styn,  to  cover c  al  the  erlhe  :  —  al 

this  acordaunce  of  thiiigcs  is  hounden 

with  Love,  that  governeth  ertlie  and 

see,  and  hath  also  commaundements 

to  the  hevenes.     And  yif  this  Love 

zoslakede    the    brydeles,    alle    thinges 


that  now  loven  hem  to-gedercs  wolden 
maken  a  bataile  eontinuely,  and  stry- 
ven  to  fordoon  the  fasoun  of  this 
worlde,  the  whiclie  they  now  leden 
in  aeordahlc  feith  by  faire  moevinges. 
This  Love  halt  to-gidcres  poeples 
ioigned  with  an  holy  bond,  and  knit- 
teth  sacrement  of  niariages  of  chaste 
loves;  and  Love  endytcth  lawes  to 
trewe  felawes.  O  !  weleful  were  nian- 
kinde,  yif  thilke  Love  that  governeth 
hevene  governed  youre  corages  ! ' 


30 


Explicit  Liber  secunJus. 


BOOK   III. 


Prose  I. 

latn  cantiim  ilia  finierat. 

By  this  she  hadde  ended  hir  song, 
whan  the  sweetnesse  of  hir  ditee  hadde 
thorugh-perced  me  that  was  desirous 
of  herkninge,  and  I  astoned  hadde 
5  yit  streighte  myn  eres,  that  is  to  seyii, 
to  herkne  the  bet  tuhat  she  wolde  seye  ; 
so  that  a  litel  here-after  I  seyde  thus  : 
*  O  thou  that  art  sovereyn  comfort  of 
anguissous   corages,  so  thou  hast  re- 

10  mounted  and  norisshed  me  with  the 
weighte  of  thy  sentences  and  with  de- 
lyt  of  thy  singinge  ;  so  that  I  trowe 
nat  now  that  I  be  unparigal  to  the 
strokes  of  Fortune  :    as  who  seyth^  I 

15  liar  'lOcl  now  siiffrcn  al  the  assaiites  of 
Fortune,  and  wel  defendc  me  fro  hir. 
And  tho  remedies  whiche  that  thou 
seydest  her-biforn  weren  right  sharpe, 
nat  (Mily  that  I  am  nat  a-grisen  of  hem 

20  now,  but  L  desirous  of  heringe,  axe 
gretely  to  heren  the  remedies.' 

Than  seyde  she  thus:  'That  felede 
I  ful  wel,'  quod  she, '  whan  that  thou, 
ententif   and    stille,    ravisshedest    my 

25  wordes  ;  and  I  abood  til  that  thou 
haddest  swich  habite  of  thy  thought 
as  thou  hast  now  ;  or  elles  til  that  I 
my-self  hadde  maked  to  thee  the  same 
hai)it,  which   that   is   a   more   verray 

30  thing.  And  certes,  the  remenaunt  of 
thinges  that  ben  yit  to  seye  ben 
swiche,  that   first    whan    men    tasten 


hem  they  ben  bytinge,  but  whan  they 
ben  receyved  withinne  a  wight,  than 
ben  they  swete.  But  for  thou  seyst  35 
that  thou  art  so  desirous  to  herkne 
hem,  with  howgret  brenninge  woldest 
thou  glowen,  yif  thou  wistest  whider 
I  wol  leden  thee  ! ' 

'  Whider  is  that  ?  '  quod  L  40 

'To  thilke  verray  welefulnesse,' 
quod  she,  'of  whiche  tbyn  herte 
dremeth  ;  but  for  as  moche  as  thy 
sighte  is  ocupied  and  distorbed  by 
imaginacioun  of  erlhely  thinges,  thou  45 
mayst  nat  yit  seen  thilke  selve  wele- 
fulnesse.' 

'  Do,'  quod  I,  '  and  shewe  me  what 
is  thilke  verray  welefulnesse,  I  preye 
thee,  with-oute  taryinge.'  50 

'That  wole  I  gladly  don,' quod  she, 
'for  the  cause  of  thee  ;  but  I  wol 
first  marken  thee  by  wordes  and  I  wol 
enforcen  me  to  enformen  thee  thilke 
false  cause  of  blisfiilnesse  that  thou  55 
more  knowest  ;  so  that,  whan  thou 
hast  fully  bi-holden  thilke  false  goodcs, 
and  torned  thyn  even  to  that  other 
syde,  thou  mowe  knowe  the  cleernesse 
of  verray  blisfulnesse.  60 

Metre   I. 

Qui  serere  ingenuum  uolet  agruin. 

Who-so  wole  sowe  a  feeld  plenti- 
vous,  lat  him  first  delivere  it  fro 
thornes,  and  kerve  asunder  with   his 


156 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


hook  the  busshes  and  the  fern,  so 
5  that  the  corn  may  comen  lievy  of  ercs 
and  of  greynes.  Hony  is  the  more 
swete,  yif  mouthes  han  first  tasted 
savoures  that  ben  wikkid.  The 
sterres   shynen    more  agreably  whan 

lothe  wind  Nothus  leteth  Ins  pl<jungy 
blastes  ;  and  after  that  Lucifer  the 
day-sterre  hath  chased  avvey  the  derive 
niglit,  the  day  the  fairere  ledeth  the 
rosene  hors  of  the  sonnc.     And  right 

15  so  thou,  bilioldinge  first  the  false 
goodes,  higin  to  with-thawen  thy 
nekke  fro  the  yok  of  erlhely  af- 
fecciouns;  and  after-ward  the  verray 
goodes    shoUen     entren     in-to     thy 

2ocorage.' 

Prose   II. 

Tunc  defixo  paullulum  uisu. 

The  fastnede  she  a  litel  the  sighte 
of  hir  eyen,  and  witii-drow  hir  right 
as  it  were  in-to  the  streite  sete  of  hir 
thought;  and  bigan  to  speke  right 
5  thus  :  '  Alle  the  cures,'  quod  she,  '  of 
mortal  folk,  whiche  that  travaylen  hem 
in  many  maner  studies,  guon  certes 
by  diverse  weyes,  but  natheles  they 
enforcen  hem  alle  to  comen  only  to 

looon  ende  of  blisfulnesse.  And  blis- 
fulnesse  is  swiche  a  good,  that  who-so 
that  hath  geten  it,  he  ne  may,  over 
that,  no-thing  more  desyre.  And  this 
thing  is  forsothe  the  sovereyn   good 

15  that  conteyneth  in  him-self  alle 
maner  goodes;  to  the  whiche  good 
yif  ther  failede  any  thing,  it  mighte 
nat  ben  cleped  sovereyn  good :  for 
thanne  were   ther   som  good,  out  of 

20  this  ilke  sovereyn  good,  that  mighte 
ben  desired.  Now  is  it  cleer  and 
certein  thanne,  that  blisfulnesse  is  a 
parfit  estat  by  the  congregacioun  of 
alle  goodes;    the  \\hiche  blisfulnesse, 

25  as  I  have  seyd,  alle  mortal  folk  en- 
forcen hem  to  geten  by  diverse 
weyes.  For-why  the  coveitise  of 
verray  good  is  naturelly  y-plaunted 
in  the  hertes  of   men;    but  the  mis- 

30  wandringe  errour  mis-ledeth  hem 
in-to  false  goodes.  Of  the  whiche 
men  som  of  hem  wenen  that  sovereyn 


good  be  to  liven   with-oute   nede  of 
any  thing,  and  travaylen  hem  to  be 
haboundaunt  of  richesses.     And  som   35 
other  men  demen  that  sovereyn  good 
be,  for  to  lien  right  digne  of  rever- 
ence;    and    enforcen     hem    to    ben 
reverenced    among     hir     neighbours 
by     the     honours     that      they     han   40 
y-geten.     And    some    folk    ther    ben 
that  holden,  that  right  heigh  power 
be  sovereyn  good,  and  enforcen  hem 
for  to  regnen,  or  elles  to  ioigen  hem 
to  hem  that  regnen.     And  it  semeth   45 
to  some  other  folk,  that  nol)lesse  of 
renoun  be   the  sovereyn  good;    and 
hasten   hem  to  geten  glorious  name 
by   the   arts    of  werre   and    of  pees. 
And  many  folk  mesuren  and  gessen   50 
that    sovereyn     good    be     loye    and 
gladnesse,  and  wenen  that  it  be  right 
blisful    thing    to    ploungen    hem    in 
voluptuous  delyt.     And  tlier  ben  folk 
that    entrechaungen   the   causes    and    55 
the   endes  of  thise   forseyde  goodes, 
as  they  that  desiren  richesses  to  han 
power' and    delytes;     or    elles    they 
desiren   power   for    to    han   moneye, 
or    for   cause    of    renoun.     In    thise   60 
thinges,  and  in  swiche  othre  thinges, 
is    torned    alle    the     entencioun    of 
desiringes  and  of  werkes  of  men;    as 
thus :   noblesse  and  favour  of  people, 
whiche    that    yeveth    to    men,    as    it  65 
semeth  hem,  a  maner  cleernesse    of 
renoun;    and  wyf  and  children,  that 
men  desiren  for  cause   of  delyt  and 
of  merinesse.     But  forsothe,  frendes 
ne    sholden    nat   be   rekned    a-mong    70 
the  godes  of  fortune,  but  of   vertu; 
for  it  is  a  ful  holy  maner  thing.     Alle 
thise    othre    thinges,    forsothe,    ben 
taken  for  cause  of  power  or  elles  for 
cause  of  delyt.  75 

Certes,  now  am  I  redy  to  referren 
the  goodes  of  the  body  to  thise  for- 
seide  thinges  aboven;  for  it  semeth 
that  strengthe  and  gretnesse  of  body 
yeven  power  and  worthinesse,  and  So 
that  beautee  and  swiftnesse  yeven 
noblesses  and  glorie  of  renoun;  and 
hele  of  body  semeth  yeven  delyt.  In 
alle  thise  thinges  it  semeth  only  that 
blisfulnesse     is     desired.        For-why   85 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK    III. 


IS7 


thilkc  thin<^  that  every  man  desireth 
most  over  alle  thinges,  he  demeth 
that  it  be  the  sovereyn  good;  but  I 
have  defyned  that  blisfulnesse  is  the 
90  sovereyn  good ;  for  which  every 
wight  demeth,  that  thilke  estat  that 
he  desireth  over  alle  thinges,  that 
it  be  blisfulnesse. 

Now  hast  thou  thanne  biforn  thyn 
95  eyen  almest  al  the  purposed  forme  of 
the  welefulnesse  of  man-kinde,  that 
is  to  seyn,  richesses,  honours,  power, 
and  glorie,  and  delyts.  The  whiche 
delyt  only  considerede  Epicurus,  and 

100  iuged  and  establisshed  that  delyt  is 
the  sovereyn  good;  for  as  moche  as 
alle  othre  thinges,  as  him  thoughte, 
bi-refte  awey  loye  and  mirthe 
fram  the  herte.     But  I  retorne  ayein 

105  to  the  studies  of  men,  of  whiche 
men  the  corage  alwey  reherseth  and 
sekelh  the  sovereyn  good,  al  be  it  so 
that  it  lie  with  a  derked  memorie; 
but  he  not  by  whiche  path,  right  as 

110  a  dronken  man  not  nat  by  whiche 
path  he  may  retorne  him  to  his  hous. 
Semeth  it  thanne  that  folk  folyen 
and  erren  that  enforcen  hem  to  have 
nede  of  nothing?     Certes,  ther   nis 

115  non  other  thing  that  may  so  wel 
performe  blisfulnesse,  as  an  estat 
plentivous  of  alle  goodes,  that  ne 
hath  nede  of  non  other  thing,  but 
that  is  suffisaunt  of  himself  unto  him- 

120  self.  And  folyen  swiche  folk  thanne, 
that  wenen  that  thilke  thing  that  is 
right  good,  that  it  be  eek  right 
worthy  of  honour  and  of  reverence? 
Certes,    nay.       For    that    thing    nis 

125  neither  foul  ne  worthy  to  ben 
despised,  that  wel  neigh  al  the  en- 
tencioun  of  mortal  folk  travaylen 
for  to  geten  it.  Anrl  power,  oughte 
nat  that  eek  to  ben  rekened  amonges 

130  goodes?  What  elles?  For  it  is  nat 
to  wene  that  thilke  thing,  that  is 
most  worthy  of  alle  thinges,  be  feble 
and  with-oute  strengthe.  And  cleer- 
nesse  of  renoun,  oughte  that  to  ben 

135  despised?  Certes,  ther  may  no  man 
forsake,  that  al  thing  that  is  right 
excellent  and  noble,  that  it  ne  semeth 
to  l)en  right  cleer  and  renouied.     For 


certes,   it    nedeth    nat    to    seye,   that 
blisfulnesse   be    [nat]    anguissous  ne  140 
drery,  ne  subgit  to  grevaunces  ne  to 
sorwes,  sin  that  in  right  litel  thinges 
folk  seken  to  have  and  to  usen  that 
may  delyten  hem.     Certes,  thise  ben 
the    thinges    that    men    wolen    and  145 
desiren  to  geten.     And  for  this  cause 
desiren      they     richesses,     dignitees, 
regnes,     glorie,     and    delices.        For 
therby  wenen  they  to  han  suffisaunce, 
honour,    power,    renoun,    and    glad- 150 
nesse.      Than   is   it  good,   that  men 
seken     thus    by    so     many    diverse 
studies.     In    whiche    desyr    it    may 
lightly  ben   shewed  how  gret  is  the 
strengthe  of  nature;    for  how  so  that  155 
men  han  diverse  sentences  and  dis- 
cordinge,  algates   men  acorden  alle 
in  lovinge  the  ende  of  good. 

Metre  II. 

Qiiantas  rerum  Jlectat  habenas. 

It  lyketh  me  to  shewe,  by  subtil 
song,  with  slakke  and  delitable  soun 
of  strenges,  how  that  Nature,  mighty, 
enclineth  and  flitteth  the  governe- 
ments  of  thinges,  and  by  whiche  5 
lawes  she,  purveyable,  kepeth  the 
grete  world;  and  how  she,  bintlinge, 
restreyneth  alle  thinges  by  a  bonde 
that  may  nat  ben  unbounde.  Al  be 
it  so  that  the  lyouns  of  the  contre  of  10 
Bene  beren  the  faire  chaynes,  and 
taken  metes  of  the  handes  of  folk 
that  yeven  it  hem,  and  dreden  hir 
sturdy  maystres  of  whiche  they  ben 
wont  to  suff  ren  betinges :  yif  that  hir  15 
horrible  mouthes  hen  be-bled,  ///(//  is 
to  seyn,  of  bestes  dcTonriu/,  hir  corage 
of  time  passed,  that  hath  ben  ydel 
and  rested,  repeyreth  ayein;  and 
they  roren  grevously  and  remembrcn  20 
on  hir  nature,  and  slaken  hir  nekkcs 
fram  hir  chaynes  unbounde;  and  hir 
mayster,  first  to-torn  with  blody  tooth, 
assayeth  the  wode  wrathes  of  hem; 
t/tis  is  to  seyn,  they  frete)i  hir  mayster.  25 
And  the  iangeliiige  brid  that  singeth 
on  the  heye  braunches,  that  is  to  seyti, 
in  the  zoode,  and  after  is  enclosed  in 
a    streyt    cage :    al-though    that    the 


158 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


30  pleyinge  bisinesse  of  men  yeveth  hem 
honiede  drinkes  and  large  metes  with 
swete  studie,  yit  natheles,  yif  thilke 
brid,  skippinge  out  of  hir  streyte  cage, 
seeth  the  agreables  shadewes  of  the 

35  vvodes,  she  defouleth  with  hir  feet  hir 
metes  y-shad,  and  seketh  mourninge 
only  the  wode  ;  and  tvvitereth,  desir- 
inge  the  wode,  with  hir  swete  vois. 
The  yerde  of  a  tree,  that  is  haled  a- 

4odoun  by  mighte  strengthe,  boweth 
redily  the  crop  a-doun :  but  yif  that 
the  hand  of  him  that  it  bente  lat  it 
gon  ayein,  anon  the  crop  loketh  up- 
right to  hevene.     The  Sonne  Phebus, 

45  that  falleth  at  even  in  the  westrene 
wawes,  retorneth  ayein  eftsones  his 
carte,  liy  privee  path,  ther-as  it  is 
wont  aryse.  Alle  thinges  seken  ayein 
to  hir  propre  cours,  and  alle  thinges 

5oreioysen  hem  of  hir  retorninge  ayein 
to  hir  nature.  Ne  non  ordinaunce 
nis  bitaken  to  thinges,  but  that  that 
hath  ioyned  the  endinge  to  the  begin- 
ninge,  and  hath  maked  the  cours  of 

55  it-self  stable,  that  it  chaungeth  nat 
from  his  propre  kinde. 

Prose   III. 

Vos  qttoque,  0  terrena  animalia. 

Certes  also  ye  men,  that  ben  erthe- 
liche  beestes,  dremen  alwey  youre 
beginninge,  al-though  it  be  with  a 
thinne  iiiiaginacioun;  and  by  a  maner 
5  thoughte,  al  be  it  nat  cleerly  ne  par- 
fitly,  ye  loken  fram  a-fer  to  thilke  ver- 
ray  fyn  of  blisfulnesse  ;  and  ther-fore 
naturel  entencioun  ledeth  you  to 
thilke  verray  good,  but  many  maner 

loerrours  mis-torneth  you  ther-fro. 
Consider  now  yif  that  by  thilke 
thinges,  by  whiche  a  man  weneth 
to  geten  him  l:)lisfulnesse,  yif  that  he 
may  comen    to   thilke   ende   that   he 

15  weneth  to  come  by  nature.  For  yif 
that  moneye  or  honours,  or  thise  other 
forseyde  thinges  bringen  to  men  svvich 
a  thing  that  no  good  ne  fayle  hem  ne 
semeth    fayle,    certes    than     vvole     I 

2ograunte  that  they  l)en  malted  l)lisful 
by  thilke  thinges  that  tliey  han  geten. 
But  yif  so  be  that  thilke  thinges  ne 


mowen  nat  performen  that  they  bi- 
heten,  and  that  ther  be  defaute  of 
manye  goodes,  sheweth  it  nat  thanne  25 
cleerly  that  fals  beautee  of  blisful- 
nesse is  knowen  and  ateint  in  thilke 
thinges  ?  First  and  forward  thou 
thy-self,  that  haddest  habundaunces 
of  richesses  nat  long  agon,  I  axe  yif  30 
that,  in  the  habundaunce  of  alle 
thilke  richesses,  thou  were  never 
anguissous  or  sory  in  thy  corage  of 
any  wrong  or  grevaunce  that  bi-tidde 
thee  on  any  syde  ? '  35 

'  Certes,'  quod  I, '  it  ne  remembreth 
me  nat  that  evere  I  was  so  free  of  my 
thought  that  I  ne  was  alwey  in  an- 
guissh  of  som-what.' 

'  And  was  nat  that,'  quod  she,  '  for   40 
that  thee  lakked  som-what  that  thou 
noldest  nat  han  lakked,  or  elles  thou 
haddest   that   thou   noldest   nat  han 
had?' 

'  Right  so  is  it,'  quod  I.  45 

'Thanne  desiredest  thou  the  pres- 
ence of  that  oon  and  the  absence  of 
that  other  ? ' 

'  I  graunte  wel,'  quod  I. 

'  Forsothe,'  quod  she,  '  than  nedeth   50 
ther  som-what  that  every  man  desir- 
eth  ?' 

'  Ye,  ther  nedeth,'  quod  I. 

'  Certes,'  quod   she,  '  and   he    that 
hath  lakke  or  nede  of  aught  nis  nat    55 
in  every  wey  suffisaunt  to  himself  ?  ' 

'  No,'  quod  I. 

'And  thou,'  quod  she,  'in  al  the 
plentee  of  thy  richesses  haddest  thilke 
lakke  of  sufhsaunse  ?  '  60 

'  What  elles  ?'  quod  I. 

'Thanne  may  nat  richesses  maken 
that  a  man  nis  nedy,  ne  that  he  be 
suffisaunt  to  him-self ;  and  that  was 
it  that  they  bi-highten,  as  it  semeth.  65 
And  eek  certes  I  trowe,  that  this  be 
gretly  to  considere,  that  moneye  ne 
hath  nat  in  his  owne  kinde  that  it  ne 
may  ben  bi-nomen  of  hem  that  han  it, 
maugre  hem  ?'  70 

'  I  l)i-knovve  it  wel,'  quod  I. 

'  Why  sholdest  thou  nat  bi-knowen 
it,'  quod  she,  '  whan  every  day  the 
strenger  folk  bi-nemen  it  fro  tlie  feb- 
ler,    maugre    hem  ?       For    whennes    75 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


'59 


comen  elles  alle  thise  foreyne  com- 
pk-yiUes  or  quereles  of  pletingcs,  but 
fur  that  men  axon  ayein  here  inoneye 
that  liath  hen  bi-nomen  hem  by  force 

So  or  l)y  J^ylt-',  and  aUvey  maugre  hem  ?' 

'  Iviglit  so  is  it,'  quod  I. 

'Tlian,'    quod    she,    'hath    a    man 

neilo  to  seken  him  foreyne  helpe  by 

whiche  he  may  defende  his  moneye  ?' 

85      '  Who  may  scy  nay  ?  '  quod  I. 

'  Certes,'    quod    she  ;      '  and    him 
ncdede  non  help,  yif  h&  ne  hadde  no 
moneye  that  he  mighte  Icse  ?  ' 
'That  is  tlouteles,'  quod  I. 

90  'Than  is  tiiis  thinge  torned  in-to 
the  contrarye,'  quod  she.  '  For  rich- 
esses,  that  men  wenen  sholde  make 
suftisaunce,  they  maken  a  man  rather 
han  nede  of  foreyne  help  !  Which  is 
95  the  manere  or  the  gyse,'  quod  she, 
'  that  richesse  may  dryve  awey  nede  ? 
Riche  folk,  may  they  neither  han 
hunger  ne  thurst  ?  Thise  riche  men, 
may  they  fele  no  cold  on  hir  limes  on 

100  winter  ?  But  thou  wolt  answeren, 
that  riche  men  han  y-now  wher-with 
they  may  staunchen  hir  hunger,  slaken 
hir  thurst,  and  don  a-\vey  cold.  In 
this  wyse  may  nede  be  counforted  by 

105  richesses;  but  certes,  nede  ne  may 
nat  al  outrely  ben  don  a-wey.  For 
though  this  nede,  that  is  alwey 
gapinge  and  gredy,  be  fulfild  with 
richesses,    and    axe    any    thing,    yit 

iiodvvelleth  thanne  a  nede  that  mighte 
be  fulhld.  I  holde  me  stille,  and 
telle  nat  how  that  litel  thing  suffiseth 
to  nature  ;  but  certes  to  avarice 
y-nough  ne  suffiseth  no-thing.       For 

115  sin  that  richesses  ne  may  nat  al  don 
awey  nede,  but  richesses  maken  nede, 
v\  hat  may  it  thanne  be,  that  ye  wenen 
that  richesses  mowen  yeven  you  suf- 
iisaunce  ? 

Metre  III. 

Quamvis  fluenie  dines  auri  gurgiie. 

Al  were  it  so  that  a  riche  covey- 

tous  man  hadde  a  river  fletinge  al  of 

gold,  yit   sholde   it   never   staunchen 

his  coveitise;    and  though  he  hadde 

5  his    nekke    y-charged    with    precious 


stones  of  the  rede  see,  and  though 
he  do  ere  his  feldes  plentivous  with 
an  hundred  oxen,  never  ne  shal  his 
bytinge  bisinesse  for-leten  him  whyl 
he  liveth,  ne  the  lighte  richesses  ne  10 
shoUe  nat  beren  him  companye  whan 
he  is  ded. 


Prose  IV. 

Set  dignitates. 

But  dignitees,  to  whom  they  ben 
comen,  maken  they  him  honorable 
and  reverent?  Ilan  they  nat  so  gret 
strengthe,  that  they  may  putte  vertues 
in  the  hertes  of  folk  that  usen  the  5 
lordshipes  of  hem?  Or  elles  may 
they  don  a-wey  the  vyces?  Certes, 
they  ne  be  nat  wont  to  don  awey  wik- 
kednesse,  but  they  ben  wont  rather 
to  shewen  wikkednesse.  And  ther-  10 
of  comth  it  that  I  have  right  grete 
desdeyn,  that  dignitees  ben  yeven 
ofte  to  wikked  men;  for  which  thing 
Catullus  cleped  a  consul  of  Rome,  that 
//2|j,'7//t' Nonius,  "postum"  or  "boch";  15 
as  who  seyth,  he  cleped  liini  a  congre- 
gacioun  of  vyces  in  his  hrest,  as  a 
postum  is  fill  of  cortipcioun,  al  were 
this  Nonius  set  in  a  chayre  of  dig- 
nitee.  Seest  thou  nat  thanne  how  20 
gret  vilenye  dignitees  don  to  wikked 
men?  Certes,  unworthinesse  of  wik- 
ked men  sholde  be  the  lasse  y-sene, 
yif  they  nere  renomed  of  none  hon- 
ours. Certes,  thou  thyself  ne  mightest  25 
nat  ben  brought  with  as  manye  perils 
as  thou  mightest  suffren  that  thou 
woldest  beren  the  magistrat  with 
Decorat;  that  is  to  seyn,  that  for  no 
peril  that  tnighte  befallen  thee  by  30 
offence  of  the  king  7 heodorihe,  thou 
noldcst  nat  be  felawe  in  governaunce 
with  Decorat;  whan  thou  saye  that 
he  hadde  wikked  corage  of  a  likerous 
shrewe  and  of  an  accuser.  Ne  I  ne  35 
may  nat,  for  swiche  honours,  iugen 
hem  worthy  of  reverence,  that  I  deme 
and  holde  unworthy  to  han  thilke 
same  honours.  Now  yif  thou  saye  a 
man  that  were  fullild  of  wisdom,  40 
certes,   thou  ne    mightest  nat  deme 


i6o 


BOETHIUS.    BOOK   III. 


that  he  were  unworthy  to  the  honour, 
or  elles  to  the  wisdom  of  which  he  is 
fuinid? '  — '  No,'    quod    I.  —  '  Certes, 

45  dignitees,'  quod  she, '  apertieiien  prop- 
rely  to  vertu;  and  vertu  transporteth 
dignitee  anon  to  thilke  man  to  which 
she  hir-self  is  conioigned.  And  for 
as   moche   as   honours   of  poeple  ne 

50  may  nal  maken  folk  digne  of  honour, 
it  is  wel  seyn  cleerly  that  they  ne  han 
no  propre  beautee  of  dignitee.  And 
yit  men  oughten  taken  more  heed  in 
this.     For  yif  it  so  be  that  a  wikked 

55  wight  be  so  mochel  the  foulere  and 
the  more  out-cast,  that  he  is  despysed 
of  most  folk,  so  as  dignitee  ne  may 
nat  maken  shrewes  digne  of  rever- 
ence,   the    which    shrewes    dignitee 

60  sheweth  to  moche  folk,  thanne  maketh 
dignitee  shrewes  rather  so  moche 
more  despysed  than  preysed;  and 
forsothe  nat  unpunisshed  :  that  is  for 
to  seyn,  that  shrewes   revengen   hem 

65  ayeimvard  up-on  dignitees ;  for  they 
yilden  ayein  to  dignitees  as  gret  guer- 
doun,  whan  they  bi-spotten  and  de- 
foulen  dignitees  with  hir  vilenye. 
And    for    as  mochel   as   thou    mowe 

70  knowe  that  thilke  verray  reverence 
ne  may  nat  comen  by  thise  shadewy 
transitorie  dignitees,  undirstond  now 
thus  :  yif  that  a  man  hadde  used  and 
had   many   maner   dignitees   of  con- 

75  sules,  and  were  comen  peraventure 
amonge  straunge  naciouns,  sholde 
thilke  honour  maken  him  worshipful 
and  redouted  of  straunge  folk  ?  Certes, 
yif  that  honour  of  poeple  were  a  natu- 

80  rel  yift  to  dignitees,  it  ne  mighte 
never  cesen  nowher  amonges  no 
maner  folk  to  don  his  office,  right  as 
fyr  in  every  contree  ne  stinteth  nat  to 
eschaufen  and  to  ben  hoot.     But  for 

85  as  moche  as  for  to  ben  holden  hon- 
ourable or  reverent  ne  cometh  nat  to 
folk  of  hir  propre  strengthe  of  nature, 
but  only  of  the  false  opinioun  of  folk, 
that  is  to  seyn,  that  wenen  that  digni- 

90  tees  maken  folk  digne  of  honour  ;  anon 
therfore  whan  that  they  comen  ther- 
as  folk  ne  knowen  nat  thilke  digni- 
tees, hir  honours  vanisshen  avvey, 
and  that  anon.     But  that  is  amonges 


straunge  folk,  mayst  thou  seyn;    but    95 
amonges  hem  ther  they  weren  born, 
ne  duren  nat  thilke  dignitees  alwey? 
(Jertes,  the  dignitee  of  the  provostrie 
of  Rome  was  vvhylom  a  gret  power; 
now  is  it  nothing  but  an  ydel  name,  100 
and  the  rente  of  the  senatorie  a  gret 
charge.      And    yif   a    wight   whylom 
hadde  the  office  to  taken  hede  to  the 
vitailes  of  the  poeple,  as  of  corn  and 
other  thinges,  he  was  holden  amonges  105 
grete;    but  what  thing  is  now  more 
out-cast    thanne    thilke     provostrie? 
And,  as  I  have  seyd  a  litel  her-biforn, 
that  thilke  thing  that  hath  no  propre 
beautee    of   him-self   receiveth    som-  no 
tyme   prys   and   shyninge,    and   som- 
tyme   leseth    it   by  the   opinioun    of 
usaunces.      Now   yif    that   dignitees 
thanne   ne    mowen    nat    maken    folk 
digne  of  reverence,  and  yif  that  dig-  115 
nitees  wexen  foule  of  hir  vville  by  the 
filthe  of  shrewes,  and  yif  that  digni- 
tees lesen  hir  shyninge  by  chaunginge 
of  tymes,  and  yif  they  wexen  foule  by 
estimacioun  of  poeple  :   what  is  it  that  120 
they  han  in  hem-self  of  beautee  that 
oughte    ben    desired  ?    1-7^  'oho   seyth 
71071 ;    thanne  ne  mowen  they  yeven 
no  beautee  of  dignitee  to  non  other. 


Metre  IV. 

Qua/7ivis  se,  Ty7-io  stiperbus  astro. 

Al  be  it  so  that  the  proude  Nero, 
with  alle  his  wode  luxurie,  kembde 
him  and  aparailede  him  with  faire 
purpres  of  Tirie,  and  with  whyte 
perles,  algates  yit  throf  he  hateful  to  5 
alle  folk  :  this  is  to  sey7i,  that  al  ttias 
he  hehated  of  alle  folk.  Yit  this 
wikked  Nero  hadde  gret  lordship, 
rt«a'yaf  whylom  to  the  reverents  sen- 
atours  the  unworshipful  setes  of  dig-  10 
nitees.  Unworshipful  setes  he  clepeth 
here,  for  that  Nero,  that  was  so  wikked, 
yaf  tho  dignitees.  Who-so  wolde 
thanne  resonably  wenen,  that  blisful- 
nesse  were  in  swiche  honours  as  ben  15 
yeven  by  vicious  shrewes? 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   III. 


i6l 


Prose  V. 
Att  vera  rcgna  reguiiiqui'  fdnitluiri- 

/llS. 

Rut  regnes  and  fainiliaritees  of 
kinges,  may  they  makcii  a  man  to  lien 
mi<;hty?  How  elles,  whan  hir  bHsful- 
nesse  dureth  perpetuely?  But  certes, 
5  the  olde  age  of  tynie  passed,  and  eek 
of  present  tyme  now,  is  ful  of  ensaum- 
ples  how  that  kinges  ben  chaunged 
in-to  wrecchednesse  out  of  hir  wele- 
fuhiesse.     O!    a  noble    thing    and   a 

10  cleer  thing  is  power,  that  is  nat 
founden  mighty  to  kepen  it-self! 
And  yif  that  power  of  reaumes  be 
auctour  and  maker  of  blisfulnesse, 
yif  thilke  power  lai<keth  on  any  syde, 

15  amenuseth  it  nat  thilke  blisfulnesse 
and  bringcth  in  wrecchednesse?  But 
yit,  al  be  it  so  that  the  reaumes  of 
mankinde  strecchen  brode,  yit  mot 
ther    nede    ben    moche    folk,    over 

2owhiche  that  every  king  ne  hath  no 
lordshipe  ne  comaundement.  And 
ceites,  up-on  thilke  syde  that  power 
faileth,  which  that  maketh  folk  blis- 
ful,  right  on  that   same    syde    noun- 

23  power  entreth  under-nethe,  that 
maketh  hem  wrecches;  in  this  man- 
ere  thanne  moten  kinges  han  more 
porcioun  of  wrecchednesse  than  t)f 
welefulnesse.      A    tyraunt,   ^/lai  7virs 

20  king  of  Sisile,  that  hadde  assayetl  the 
peril  of  his  estat,  shewede  by  simili- 
tude the  dredes  of  reaumes  by  gast- 
nesse  of  a  swerd  that  heng  over  the 
heved  of  his  fimilier.     What    thing 

35  is  thanne  this  power,  that  may  nat 
don  awey  the  bytinges  of  bisinesse, 
ne  eschewe  the  prikkes  of  drede? 
And  certes,  yit  wolden  they  liven  in 
sikernesse,   but    they  may   nat;    and 

40  yit  they  glorifye  hem  in  hir  power. 
Holdest  thou  thanne  that  thilke  man 
be  mighty,  that  thou  seest  that  he 
wolde  don  that  he  may  nat  don? 
And     holdest    thou    thanne    him    a 

45  mighty  man,  that  hath  envirownede 
his  sydes  with  men  of  armes  or  seri- 
aunts,  and  dredeth  more  hem  tiiat  he 
maketh  agast  than  they  dreden  him, 
and  that  is  put  in  the  handes  of  his 

M 


servaunts  for  he  sholde  seme  mighty?    50 
But    of    familieres    or    servaunts    of 
kinges  what  sholde  I  telle  tliee  any- 
thing, sin  that  I  myself  have  shewed 
tliee  that  reaumes  hem-self  l)en  ful  of 
gret  feblesse?    The  whiche  familieres,    55 
certes,  the  ryal  power  of  kinges,  in 
hool    estat    and   in   estat    aliated,  ful 
ofte    throweth    adown.       Nero    con- 
streynede  Senek,  his  familier  and  his 
mayster,  to  chesen  on  what  deeth  he    60 
wolde  deyen.     Antonius  ctmiaundede 
that  knightes  slowen  with  hir  swerdes 
Papinian  his fiDiilier,  which  Papinian 
hadde    ben    longe    tyme    ful    mighty 
amonges  hem  of  the  court.     And  yit,    65 
certes,    they    wolden    bothe    han    re- 
nounced  hir  power;     of  whiche  two 
Senek    enforcede    him    to    yeven    to 
Nero  his  richesses,  and   also  to  han 
gon  in-to  solitarie  exil.     But  whan  the    70 
grete  weighte,  that  is  to  seyn,  of  lordes 
power   or   of  fortufie,  dravveth    hem 
that  shullen  falle,  neither  of  hem  ne 
mighte    do   that    he    wolde.      What 
thing    is    thanne    thilke    power,   that    75 
though    men    han    it,    yit    they    ben 
agast;    and  whanne  thou  woldest  han 
it,  thou  nart  nat  siker;    and  yif  thou 
woldest    forleten  it,  thou    mayst    nat 
eschuen    it?       But    whether    swiche    80 
men  ben  frendes  at  nede,  as  ben  con- 
seyled  by  fortune  and  nat  by  vertu? 
Certes,  swiche  folk  as  weleful  fortune 
maketh  freendes,  contrarious  fortune 
maketh     hem    enemys.       And    what    85 
pestilence    is    more     mighty    for    to 
anoye  a  wight  than  a  familier  enemy? 

Metre  V. 

Qui  se  uolet  esse  potentem. 

Who-so  wol  be  mighty,  he  mot 
daunten  his  cruel  corage,  ne  putte  nat 
hisnekke,  overconien,  under  the  foule 
reynes  of  lecherye.  Vox  al-be-it  so 
that  thy  lordshipe  strecche  so  fer,  that  5 
the  contree  of  Inde  quaketh  at  thy 
comaundemcnts  or  at  thy  lawes,  and 
that  the  last  He  in  the  see,  that  hight 
Tyle,  be  thral  to  thee,  yit,  yif  thou 
mayst    nat    putten    awey    thy    foule    10 


1 62 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


derke  desyrs,  and  dryven  out  fro  thee 
wrecched  coniplaintes,  certes,  it  nis  no 
power  that  thou  hast. 

Prose  VI. 

Gloria  uero  quam  fallax  saepe. 

But  glorie,  how  deceivable  and  how 
foul  is  it  ofte  !  For  which  thing  nat 
unskilfully  a  tragedian,  Ihat  is  to  seyn, 
a  tnaker  of  ditees  that  /lighten  trage- 
5  liies,  cryde  and  seide  :  "  O  glorie,  glo- 
rie," quod  he,  "  thou  art  nothing  elles 
to  thousandes  of  folkes  but  a  greet 
sweller  of  eres !  "  For  nianye  han 
had    ful   greet   renoun    by  the   false 

10  opinioun  of  the  poeple,  and  what 
thing  may  ben  thought  fouler  than 
swiche  preysinge?  For  thilke  folk 
that  ben  preysed  falsly,  they  moten 
nedes  han   shame  of  hir  preysinges. 

15  And  yif  that  folk  han  geten  hem 
thonk  or  preysinge  by  hir  desertes, 
what  thing  hath  thilke  prys  eched  or 
encresed  to  the  conscience  of  wyse 
folk,  that    mesuren   hir  good,  nat  by 

20  the  rumour  of  the  poeple,  but  by  the 
sooth fastnesse  of  conscience?  And 
yif  it  seme  a  fair  thing,  a  man  to  han 
encresed  and  spred  his  name,  than 
folweth  it  that  it  is  demed  to  ben  a 

25  foul  thing,  yif  it  ne  be  y-sprad  and 
encresed.  But,  as  I  seyde  a  litel  her- 
biforn  that,  sin  ther  mot  nedes  ben 
many  folk,  to  whiche  folk  the  renoun 
of  a  man  ne  may  nat  comen,  it  befall- 

30  eth  that  he,  that  thou  wenest  be  glo- 
rious   and    renomed,    semeth    in    the 
nexte  partie  of  the  erthes  to  ben  with- 
oute  glorie  and  with-oute  renoun. 
And  certes,  amonges  thise  thinges 

35  I  ne  trowe  nat  that  the  prys  and  grace 
of  the  poeple  nis  neither  worthy  to 
ben  remembred,  ne  cometh  of  wyse 
lugement,  ne  is  ferme  perdurably. 
But  now,  of  this  name  of  gentilesse, 

40  what  man  is  it  that  ne  may  wel  seen 
how  veyn  and  how  fhttinge  a  thing  it 
is?  For  yif  the  name  of  gentilesse  be 
referred  to  renoun  and  cleernesse  of 
linage,  thanne  is   gentil   name  but  a 

45  foreine  thing,  that  is  to  seyn,  to  hem 
that  glorifyen  hem  of  hir  linage.     For 


it  semeth  that  gentilesse  be  a  maner 
preysinge  that  comth  of  the  deserte  of 
ancestres.  And  yif  preysinge  maketh 
gentilesse,  thanne  moten  they  nedes  50 
he.  gentil  that  ben  preysed.  F'or 
which  thing  it  folweth,  that  yif  thou 
ne  have  no  gentilesse  of  thy-self,  that 
is  to  seyn,  preyse  that  comth  of  thy 
deserte,  foreine  gentilesse  ne  maketh  55 
thee  nat  gentil.  But  certes,  yif  ther 
be  any  good  in  gentilesse,  I  trowe  it 
be  al-only  this,  that  it  semeth  as  that 
a  maner  necessitee  be  imposed  to 
gentil  men,  for  that  they  ne  sholden  60 
nat  outrayen  or  forliven  fro  the  vir- 
tues of  hir  noble  kinrede. 

Metre  VI. 

Otnne  hominum  genus  in  terris. 

Al  the  linage  of  men  that  ben  in 
erthe  ben  of  semblable  birthe.  On 
allone  is  fader  of  thinges.  On  allone 
ministreth  alle  thinges.  He  yaf  to 
the  Sonne  hise  hemes;  he  yaf  to  the  5 
mone  hir  homes.  He  yaf  the  men  to 
the  erthe;  he  yaf  the  sterres  to  the 
hevene.  He  encloseth  with  membres 
the  soules  that  comen  fro  his  hye 
sete.  Thanne  comen  alle  mortal  folk  10 
of  noble  sede;  why  noisen  ye  or 
bosten  of  youre  eldres?  For  yif  thou 
loke  your  biginninge,  and  god  your 
auctor  and  your  maker,  thanne  nis 
ther  no  forlived  wight,  but-yif  he  15 
norisshe  his  corage  un-to  vyces,  and 
forlete  his  propre  burthe. 

Prose  VII. 

Quid  autem  de  corporis  uoluptatihus. 

But  what  shal  I  seye  of  delices  of 
body,  of  whiche  delices  the  desiringes 
ben  ful  of  anguissh,  and  the  fulfillinges 
of  hem  ben  ful  of  penaunce?  How 
greet  syknesse  and  how  grete  sorwes  5 
unsufferable,  right  as  a  maner  fruit  of 
wikkednesse,  ben  thilke  delices  wont 
to  bringen  to  the  bodies  of  folk  that 
usen  him  !  Of  whiche  delices  I  not 
what  loye  may  ben  had  of  hir  moev-  lo 
inge.  But  this  wot  I  wel,  that  who- 
so-ever  wole  remembren  him  of  hise 


BOETFIIUS.     BOOK   III. 


163 


luxures,  he  shal  wcl  understonde  tliat 
the  issues  of  delices  l)eM   soru  fill  atul 

15  sorye.  And  yif  thilke  delices  nioweii 
makeii  folic  hlisful,  than  by  the  same 
cause  moten  thise  bestes  ben  cleped 
blisful;  of  whiche  bestes  al  the  en- 
tencioun  hasteth  to  fullille  hir  bodily 

20  lolitee.  And  the  gladnesse  of  wyf 
and  children  were  an  honest  thing, 
but  it  hath  ben  seyd  that  it  is  over 
niuchel  ayeins  kinde,  that  children 
han  ben  founden  tornientours  to  hir 

25  fadres,  1  not  how  manye  :  of  whiche 
children  how  bytinge  is  every  condi- 
cioun,  it  nedeth  nat  to  lellen  it  thee, 
that  hast  or  this  tyme  assayed  it,  and 
art  yit  now  anguissous.     In  this  ap- 

30  prove  I  the  sentence  of  my  disciple 
Euripidis,  that  seyde,  that  "  he  that 
hath  no  children  is  weleful  by  in- 
fortune." 

Metre  VII. 

Hahet  omnis  hoc  uoluptas. 

Every  delyt  hath  this,  that  it  an- 
guissheth  hem  with  prikkes  that  usen 
it.  It  resenil)leth  to  thise  tlyinge  flyes 
that  we  clepen  been,  that,  after  that 
5  he  hath  shad  hise  agreable  honies,  he 
flceth  awey,  and  stingeth  the  hertes, 
of  hem  that  ben  y-smite,  with  bytinge 
overlonge  holdinge. 

Prose  VIII. 

Nihil  igititr  dubiurn  est. 

Now  is  it  no  doute  thanne  that 
thise  weyes  ne  ben  a  maner  misled- 
ingcs  to  blisfulnesse,  ne  that  they  ne 
mowe  nat  leden  folk  thider  as  they 
5  biheten  to  leden  hem.  But  with  how 
grcte  harmes  thise  forseyde  weyes 
ben  enlaced,  I  shal  shewe  thee  shortly. 
For-why  yif  thou  enforcest  thee  to 
asemlile    nioneye,  thou  most  bireven 

10  him  his  moneye  that  hath  it.  And 
yif  thou  wolt  shynen  with  dignitees, 
thou  most  bisechen  and  supplien  hem 
that  yeven  tho  dignitees.  And  yif 
thou  covcitest  by  honour  to  gon  l)i- 

15  forn  other  folk,  thou  shalt  defoule 
thy-sclf  thorugh  humblesse  of  axinge. 


Yif  thou  desirest  power,  thou  shalt  l)y 
awaytes  of  thy  subgits  anoyously  ben 
cast  under  manye  perilcs.  Axest  thou 
glorie?  Thou  shalt  ben  so  ckstrat  by  20 
aspre  tliinges  that  thou  shalt  forgoon 
sikernessc.  And  yif  thou  wolt  leden 
thy  lyf  in  delices,  every  wight  shal 
despisen  thee  and  forleten  thee,  as 
thou  that  art  thral  to  thing  that  is  25 
right  foul  and  brotel ;  that  is  to  seyn, 
servaunt  to  thy  body.  Now  is  it 
thanne  wel  seen,  how  litel  and  how 
brotel  possessioun  they  coveiten,  that 
putten  the  goodes  of  the  body  aboven  30 
hir  owne  resoun.  For  mayst  thou 
sormounten  thise  olifaunts  in  gret- 
nesse  or  weight  of  body?  Or  mayst 
thou  ben  stronger  than  the  bole? 
Mayst  thou  ben  swifter  than  the  tygre?  35 
Bihold  the  spaces  and  the  stalilenesse 
and  the  swifte  cours  of  the  hevene, 
and  stint  som-tyme  to  wondren  on 
foule  thinges;  the  which  hevene,  car- 
tes, nis  nat  rather  for  thise  thinges  to  40 
ben  wondred  up-on,  than  for  the  re- 
soun by  which  it  is  governed.  But 
the  shyning  of  thy  forme,  that  is  to 
seyii,  the  heaiitee  of  thy  body,  how 
swiftly  passinge  is  it,  and  how  transi-  45 
torie;  certes,  it  is  more  tlittinge  than 
the  mutabilitee  of  flowers  of  the  somer- 
sesoun.  For  so  Aristotle  telleth,  that 
yif  that  men  hadden  eyen  of  a  beest 
that  highte  lynx,  so  that  the  lokinge  50 
of  folk  mighte  percen  thorugh  the 
thinges  that  with-stonden  it,  who-so 
loked  thanne  in  the  entrailes  of  the 
body  of  Alcibiades,  that  was  ful  fayr 
in  the  superfice  with-oute,  it  shold  55 
seme  right  foul.  And  forthy,  yif  thou 
semest  fayr,  thy  nature  maketh  nat 
that,  but  the  desceivaunce  of  the 
feblesse  of  the  eyen  that  loken.  But 
preyse  the  goodes  of  the  body  as  60 
mochel  as  ever  thee  list;  so  that  thou 
knowe  algates  that,  what-so  it  be,  that 
is  to  seyn,  of  the  goodes  of  thy  body, 
which  that  thou  wondrest  up-on,  may 
ben  destroyed  or  dissolved  by  the  65 
bete  of  a  fevere  of  three  dayes.  Of 
alle  whiche  forseyde  thinges  I  may 
reducen  this  shortly  in  a  somme,  that 
thise  worldly  goodes,  whiche  that  ne 


\ 


164 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


70  mowen  nat  yeven  that  they  hiheten, 

lie  hen  nat  parfit  l)y  the  congrega- 
ci(juii  of  alle  goodes;  that  they  ne  ben 
nat  weyes  ne  pathes  that  bringen  men 
to  l)hsfulnesse,  ne  maken  men  to  ben 
75  blisful. 

Metre  VIII. 

Eheu!  quae  miseios  iramite  deuios. 

Alias !  which  folye  and  which 
ignoraunce  misledeth  wandringe 
wrecches  fro  the  path  of  verray 
goode ! 
5  Certes,  ye  ne  seken  no  gold  in 
grene  trees,  ne  ye  ne  gaderen  nat 
precious  stones  in  the  vynes,  ne  ye  ne 
hyden  nat  your  ginnes  in  the  hye 
mountaignes     to     cacchen      fish     of 

10  whiche  ye  may  maken  riche  festes. 
And  yif  yow  lyketh  to  hunte  to  roes, 
ye  ne  gon  nat  to  the  fordes  of  the 
water  that  highte  Tyrene.  And 
over  this,  men  knowen  wel  the  crykes 

15  and  the  cavernes  of  the  see  y-hid  in 
the  flodes,  and  knowen  eek  which 
water  is  most  plentivous  of  whyte 
perles,  and  knowen  which  water 
haboundeth  most  of  rede  purpre,  Ihat 

20  is  to  seyn,  of  a  ma  iter  shelle-fish  with 
which  men  dyen  piirpre  ;  and  knowen 
which  strondes  habounden  most  with 
tendre  fisshes,  or  of  sharpe  fisshes  that 
highten    echines.       But    folk    suffren 

25  hem-self  to  ben  so  blinde,  that  hem 
ne  reccheth  nat  toknowe  where  thilke 
goodes  ben  y-hid  whiche  that  they 
coveiten,  but  plour.gen  hem  in  erthe 
and  seken  there  thilke  good  that  sor- 

30  mounteth  the  hevene  that  bereth  the 
sterres.  What  preyere  may  I  maken 
tliat  be  digne  to  the  nyce  thoughtes 
of  men?  But  I  preye  that  they  cov- 
eiten  richesse  and  honours,  so  that, 

35  whan  they  han  geten  tho  false  goodes 
with  greet  travaile,  that  ther-by  they 
mowe  knowen  the  verray  goodes. 

Prose  IX. 

Hactenus  mendacis  formam. 

It    suffyseth    that    I    have    shewed 
hider-to  the  forme   of  false  weleful- 


nesse,   so   that,   yif   thou   loke   now 
cleerly,  the  order  of  myn  entencioun 
requireth  from  hennes-forth  to  shewen      5 
thee  the  verray  welefulnesse.' 

'  For  sotlie,'  quod  I, '  I  see  wel  now 
that    suffisaunce   may  nat    comen  by 
richesses,   ne    power    by   reames,    ne 
reverence  by  ciignitees,  ne  gentilesse    10 
by  glorie,  ne  loye  by  delices.' 

'  And  hast  thou  wel  knowen  the 
causes,'  quod  she,  '  why  it  is?' 

'  Certes,  me  semeth,'  quod  I,  '  that 
I   see    hem    right  as  though  it  were    15 
thorugh  a  litel   clifte;    but  me  were 
levere  knowen  hem  more  openly  of 
thee.' 

'  Certes,'  quod  she,  '  the  resoun  is 
al  redy.  For  thilke  thing  that  sim-  20 
ply  is  o  thing,  with-outen  any  devis- 
ioun,  the  errour  and  folye  of  man- 
kinde  departeth  and  devydeth  it,  and 
misledeth  it  and  transporteth  from 
verray  and  parfit  good  to  goodes  that  25 
ben  false  and  unparfit.  But  sey  me 
this.  Wenest  thou  that  he,  that  hath 
nede  of  power,  that  him  ne  lakketh 
no-thing? ' 

'Nay,'  quod  I.  30 

'Certes,'  quod  she,  'thou  seyst 
a-right.  For  yif  so  be  that  ther  is  a 
thing,  that  in  any  partye  be  febler  of 
power,  certes,  as  in  that,  it  mot  nedes 
ben  nedy  of  foreine  help.'  35 

'  Right  so  is  it,'  quod  I. 

'  Suffisaunce  and  power  ben  thanne 
of  o  kinde? ' 

'  So  semeth  it,'  quod  I. 

'  And  demest  thou,'  quod  she, '  that  40 
a  thing  that  is  of  this  manere,  that  is 
to  seyn,  suffisannt  and  mighty,  oughte 
ben  despysed,  or  elles  that  it  be  right 
digne  of  reverence  aboven  alle 
thinges?'  45 

'  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  it  nis  no  doute, 
that  it  is  right  worthy  to  ben  rever- 
enced.' 

'  Lat  us,'  quod  she,  '  adden  thanne 
reverence  to  suffisaunce  and  to  power,    50 
so   that   we   demen   that    thise   three 
thinges  ben  al  o  thing.' 

'  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  lat  us  adden  it, 
yif  we  wolen  graunten  the  sothe.' 

'  What  demest  thou  thanne  ? '  quod    55 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   III. 


165 


she;  'is  that  a  derk  thiiif^  and  nat 
noble,  that  is  suffisauiit,  rciereut,  and 
niii^/ity,  or  elles  that  it  is  rij^ht  noble 
and   rij^ht    cleer  h\  cclcbritee  of   re- 

60  noun?  Consider  thannc,'  ([uod  she, 
'as  we  han  graunted  her-bifurn,  that  he 
that  ne  hath  nede  of  no-thing,  and  is 
most  mighty  and  most  digne  of  hon- 
our, yif  him  nedeth  any  cleernesse  of 

65  renoun,  which  cleernesse  he  might 
nat  graunten  of  him-self,  so  that,  for 
lakke  of  thilke  cleernesse,  he  mighte 
seme  the  febeler  on  any  syde  or  the 
more  out-cast?'     Glose.      T/iis  is  to 

•JO  seyn,  nay;  for  who-so  that  is  suffi- 
saunt,  mighty,  and  f-evcrent,  cleer- 
nesse of  renoun  fokoeth  of  the  forseyde 
ihinges;  he  hath  it  al  redy  of  his  suffi- 
sattnce. 

75  Bocce.  '  I  may  nat,'  quod  I, '  denye 
it;  but  I  mot  graunte  as  it  is,  that  this 
thing  be  right  celebrable  by  cleernesse 
of  renoun  and  noblesse.' 

'  Thanne  folweth  it,'  quod  she, '  that 

80  we  adden  cleernesse  of  renoun  to  the 
three  forseyde  thinges,  so  that  ther  ne 
be  amonges  hem  no  difference?' 
'This  is  a  consequence,'  quod  I. 
'This    thing    thanne,'    quod    she, 

85 '  that  ne  hath  nede  of  no  foreine 
thing,  and  that  may  don  alle  thinges 
by  hise  strengthes,  and  that  is  noble 
and  honourable,  nis  nat  that  a  mery 
thing  and  a  loyful?  ' 

go  '  15ut  whennes,'  quod  I,  '  that  any 
sorwe  mighte  comen  to  this  thing 
that  is  swiche,  certes,  I  may  nat 
thinke.' 

'Thanne  moten  we  graunte,'  quod 

95  she,  '  that  this  thing  be  ful  of  glad- 

nesse,  yif  the    forseyde   thinges   ben 

sothe;     and    certes,    also    mote    we 

graunten     that     suffisaunce,     power, 

noblesse,    reverence,    and    gladnesse 

100  ben  only  dyverse  by  names,  but  hir 

substaunce  hath  no  diversitee.' 

'  It  mot  needly  been  so,'  quod  I. 

'Thilke   thing  thanne,'   quod   she, 

'that  is  oon  and  simple  in  his  nature, 

105  the  wikkednesse  of  men  departeth  it 

and  devydeth  it;    and  whan  they  en- 

forcen  hem  to  geten  partye  of  a  thing 

that  ne  hath  no  part,  they  ne.  geten 


hem   neither    thilke    partye   that   nis 
non,  ne  the  thing  al  hool  that  they  no 
ne  desire  nat.' 

'  In  which  manere?'  quod  I. 

'Thilke     man,'    quod     she,    'that 
secheth    richesses  to  fleen    povertee, 
he  ne  travaileth   him  nat  for  to  gete  115 
power;    for  he  hath  levere  ben  derk 
and  vyl;   and  eek  withdraweth  from 
him-self  many  naturel  delyts,  for  he 
noliie  lese  the  moneye  that  he  hath 
assembled.     But  certes,  in  this  man-  120 
ere  he  ne  geteth  him  nat  suftisaunce 
that  power  forleteth,  and  that  moles- 
tie  prikketh,  and  that  hlthe  maketh 
out-cast,  and  that  derkenesse  hydeth. 
And   certes,    he    that    desireth    only  125 
power,  he  wasteth  and  scatereth  rich- 
esse,  and  despyseth  delyts,  and  eek 
honour  that  is  with-oute  power,  ne  he 
ne  preyseth  glorie  no-thing.     Certes, 
thus    seest    thou    wel,    that    manye  130 
thinges    faylen  to  him;    for  he  hath 
som-tyme    defaute  of  many  necessi- 
tees,  and  many  anguisshes  byten  him; 
and  whan  he  ne  may  nat  don  tho  de- 
fautes    a-wey,    he    forleteth    to    ben  135 
mighty,  and  that  is  the  thing  that  he 
most  desireth.     And  right  thus  may 
I  maken  semblable  resouns  of  hon- 
ours, and    of   glorie,  and    of  delyts. 
For   so   as   every    of    thise    forseyde  140 
thinges  is  the  same  that  thise  other 
thinges    ben,  that  is  to  seyn,  al  oon 
thing,    who-so    that    ever    seketh    to 
geten  that  oon  of  thise,  and  nat  that 
other,  he  ne  geteth  nat  that  he  de-  145 
sireth.' 

Boece.  '  What  seyst  thou  thanne, 
yif  that  a  man  coveiteth  to  geten  alle 
thise  thinges  to-gider?' 

Philosophic.  '  Certes,'  quod  she, '  I  150 
vvolde  seye,  that  he  wolde  geten  him 
sovereyn  blisfulnesse;  but  that  shal 
he  nat  findc  in  tho  thinges  that  I  have 
shewed,  that  ne  mowen  nat  yeven 
that  they  beheten.'  155 

'  C"ertes,  no,'  quod  I. 

'Thanne,'   quod   she,  'ne    sholden 
men  nat  by  no  wey  seken  blisfulnesse 
in  swiche  thinges  as  men  wene  that 
they   ne   mowen    yeven  but  o    thing  160 
senglely  of  alle  that  men  seken.' 


i66 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


'I  graunte  wel,'  quod  I;   '  ne  no 
sother  thing  ne  may  been  sayd.' 
'  Now  hast  thou  thanne,'  quod  she, 

165  '  the  forme  and  the  causes  of  false 
welefuhiesse.  Now  tome  and  flitte 
the  eyen  of  thy  thought  ;  for  ther 
shalt  thou  sen  anon  thilke  verray  blis- 
fuhiesse  that  I  have  bihight  thee.' 

170  '  Certes,' quod  I,  'it  is  cleer  and 
open,  thogh  it  were  to  a  blinde  man; 
and  that  shewedest  thou  me  fill  wel 
a  litel  her-biforn,  whan  thou  enforced- 
est  thee  to  shewe  me  the  causes  of  the 

175  false  blisfulnesse.  For  but-yif  I  be 
bigyled,  thanne  is  thilke  the  verray 
blisfulnesse  parfit,  that  partitly  mak- 
eth  a  man  suffisaunt,  mighty,  honour- 
able,  noble,   and    ful    of    gladnesse. 

I  So  And,  for  thou  shalt  wel  knowe  that  I 
have  wel  understonden  thise  thinges 
with-in  my  herte,  I  knowe  wel  that 
thilke  blisfulnesse,  that  may  verrayly 
yeven  oon  of  the  forseyde  thinges,  sin 

185  they  ben  al  oon,  I  knowe,  douteles, 
that  thilke  thing  is  the  fulle  blisful- 
nesse.' 

Philosophie.  '  O  my  norie,'  quod 
she,  '  by   this   opinioun    I    seye    that 

190  thou  art  blisful,  yif  thou  putte  this 
ther-to  that  I  shal  seyn.' 
♦What  is  that?'  quod  I. 
'Trowest   thou    that   ther    be    any 
thing    in  thise  erthely   mortal  toum- 

195  bling  thinges  that  may  bringen  this 
estat?' 

'  Certes,'  quod  I, '  I  trowe  it  naught; 
and  thou  hast  shewed  me  wel  that 
over   thilke   good   ther   nis    no-lhing 

200  more  to  ben  desired.' 

'  Thise  thinges  thanne,'  quod  she, 
^  that  is  to  sey,  erthely  siiffisaunce  and 
power  and  swiche  thinges,  either  they 
semen  lykenesses  of  verray  good,  or 

205  elles  it  semeth  that  they  yeve  to  mor- 
tal folk  a  maner  of  goodes  that  ne  ben 
nat  parfit;  but  thilke  good  that  is 
verray  and  parfit,  that  may  they  nat 
yeven.* 

210      '  I  acorde  me  wel,'  quod  I. 

'  Thanne,'  quod  she, '  for  as  mochel 
as  thou  hast  knowen  which  is  thilke 
verray  blisfulnesse,  and  eek  whiche 
thilke    thinges    ben    that    lyen   falsly 


blisfulnesse,  that  is  to  seyn,  that  by  de-  215 
ceite  semen  verray  goodes,  now  behov- 
eth  thee  to  knowe  whennes  and  where 
thou  mowe  seke  thilke  verray  blisful- 
nesse.' 

'  Certes,'    quod    I,    '  that    desire  1 220 
greetly,  and  have  abiden  longe  tyme 
to  herknen  it.' 

'  But  for  as  moche,'  quod  she,  '  as 
it  lyketh  to  my  disciple  Plato,  in  his 
book  of  "  in  Timeo,"  that  in  right  225 
litel  thinges  men  sholden  bisechen 
the  help  of  god,  what  iugest  thou  that 
be  now  to  done,  so  that  we  may  de- 
serve to  finde  the  sete  of  thilke  verray 
good?'  230 

'Certes,'  quod  I,  'I  deme  that  we 
shollen  clepen  the  fader  of  alle 
goodes;  for  with-outen  him  nis  ther 
no-thing  founden  a-right.' 

'Thou    seyst    a-right,'    quod    she;  235 
and     bigan    anon    to    singen    right 
thus : — 

Metre  IX. 

O    qui  perpetua    mundum    ratione 
giibernas. 

'O  thou  fader,  creator  of  hevene 
and  of  erthes,  that  governest  this 
world  by  perdurable  resoun,  that 
comaundest  the  tymes  to  gon  from 
sin  that  age  hadde  beginninge;  thou  5 
that  dwellest  thy-self  ay  stedefast  and 
stable,  and  yevest  alle  othre  thinges 
to  ben  moeved;  ne  foreine  causes 
necesseden  thee  never  to  compoune 
werk  of  floteringe  matere,  but  only  10 
the  forme  of  soverein  good  y-set 
with-in  thee  with-oute  envye,  that 
vioevede  thee  freely.  Thou  that  art 
alder-fayrest,  beringe  the  faire  world 
in  thy  thought,  formedest  this  world  15 
to  the  lyknesse  semblable  of  that  faire 
world  in  thy  thought.  Thou  drawest 
al  thing  of  thy  soverein  ensaumpler, 
and  comaundest  that  this  world,  par- 
fitliche  y-niaked,  have  freely  and  20 
absolut  his  parfit  parties.  Thou 
bindest  the  elements  liy  noumbres  pro- 
porcionables,  that  the  colde  thinges 
mowen  acorden  with  the  hote 
thinges,  and   the    drye    thinges   with    25 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


167 


the  moiste  thinges;  that  the  fyr,  that 
is  purest,  ne  flee  nat  over  hye,  ne 
that  the  hevinesse  ne  cirawe  nat 
adoun    over-lowe    the    earthes    that 

30  ben  plounged  in  the  watercs.  Thou 
knittest  to-gider  the  mene  sowle  of 
treble  kinde,  nioeviiigc  alio  thinges, 
and  devydest  it  by  niembres  acord- 
inge;    and   whan  it  is  thus  devyded, 

35  it  hath  asembled  a  nioevinge  in-to 
two  roundes;  it  goth  to  torne  ayein 
to  him-self,  and  envirouneth  a  ful 
deep  thought,  and  torneth  the  hev- 
ene   by   SL'ml)lal)le   image.     Thou   by 

40  evene-ly kc  causes  enhansest  the  sowles 
and  the  lasse  lyves,  and,  ablinge  hem 
heye  by  lighte  cartes,  thou  sowest 
hem  in-to  hevene  and  in-to  erthe; 
and  whan  they  ben  converted  to  thee 

45  by  thy  benigne  lawe,  thou  makest 
hem  retorne  ayein  to  thee  by  ayein- 
ledinge  fyr. 

O  fader,  yive  thou  to  the  thought 
to  styen  up  in-to  thy  streite  sete,  and 

50  graunte  him  to  enviroune  the  welle 
of  good;  and,  the  lighte  y-founde, 
graunte  him  to  fichen  the  clere 
sightes  of  his  corage  in  thee.  And 
scater    thou    and    to-breke    thou    the 

55  weightes  and  the  cloudes  of  erthely 
hevinesse,  and  shyne  thou  by  thy 
brightnesse.  For  thou  art  cleernesse; 
thou  art  peysible  reste  to  debonaire 
folk;     thou    thy-self   art    biginninge, 

60  berer,  leder,  path,  and  terme;  to 
loke  on  thee,  that  is  our  ende. 

Prose  X. 

Quoniam  igittir  quae  si(  imperfecti. 

For  as  moche  thanne  as  thou  hast 
seyn,  which  is  the  forme  of  good  that 
nis  nat  parfit,  and  which  is  the  forme 
of  good  that  is  parlit,  now  trowe  I  that 
5  it  were  good  ti)  shewe  in  what  this  per- 
feccioun  of  blisfulnesse  is  set.  And 
in  this  thing,  I  trowe  that  we  sholden 
first  enquire  for  to  witen,  yif  that  any 
swiche  maner  good  as  thilke  good 
10  that  thou  hast  diffmisshed  a  litel 
heer-biforn,  Ihat  is  to  scyn,  soverein 
good,  may  ben  founde  in  the  nature 
of  thinges;    for    that  veyn    imagina- 


cioun  of  thought  ne  deceyve  us  nat, 
and  putte  us  out  of  the  sothfastnesse    15 
of  thilke  thing  that  is  suraniitted  unto 
us.      But    it    may    nat    ben    deneyed 
that  thilke  good  ne  is,  and  that  it  nis 
right  as  welle   of   alle   goodes.     For 
al    thing    that    is    cleped    inpar(it    is   20 
proeved    inj^arfit    by  the  amenusinge 
of   perfeccioun    or    of   thing    that    is 
parfit.      And    ther-of   comth   it,  that 
in  every  thing  general,  yif  that  men 
sen  any-thing  that  is  inparfit,  certes,    25 
in  thilke  general  ther  mot  ben  som- 
thing  that  is  parfit;    for  yif  so  be  that 
perfeccioun    is  don   awey,  men   may 
nat  thinke  ne  seye  fro  whennes  thilke 
thing  is  that  is  cleped  inparfit.     For    30 
the  nature  of  thinges  ne  took  nat  hir 
beginninge  of  thinges  amenused  and 
inparfit,  but  it  procedeth  of  thinges 
that    hen   al   hoole  and  absolut,  and 
descendeth    so   doun    in-to    outterest  35 
thinges,  and  in-to  thinges  empty  and 
with-outen    frut.       But,    as    I    have 
y-shewed    a    litel  her-biforn,  that  yif 
ther  be  a  blisfulnesse  that  be  freelc  and 
veyn  and  inparfit,  ther  may  no  man    40 
doute  that  ther  nis  som  blisfulnesse 
that  is  sad,  stedefast,  and  parfit.' 

Boece.    '  This   is   concluded,'   quod 
I,  '  ferniely  and  sothfastly.' 

Philosophie.     '  But  considere  also,'    45 
quod  she,  '  in  wham  this  blisfulnesse 
enhabiteth.    The  comune  acordaunce 
and  conceite  of  the  corages  of  men 
proeveth    and    graunteth,    that    god, 
prince  of  alle  thinges,  is  good.     For,    50 
so   as  nothing  ne    may  ben    thought 
bettre  than  god,  it  may  nat  ben  douted 
thanne  that  he,  that  nothing  nis  bet- 
tre, that  he  nis  good.     Certes,  resoun 
sheweth  that   god  is  so  good,   that  it    55 
proveth  by   verray   force    that    parfit 
good  is  in  him.     For  yif  god   ne   is 
swich,  he  ne  may  nat  ben   prince   of 
alle    thinges  ;     for    certes    som-thing 
possessing  in  it-self  parfit  good,  sholde    60 
ben   more  worthy   than    god,   and    it 
sholde  semen  that  thilke  thing  were 
first,   and   elder   than   god.      For  we 
han  shewed  apertly  that  alle  thinges 
that    ben  parlit   ben    first   or   thinges   65 
that  ben  unpartit  ;  and  for-thy,  for  as 


i68 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


moche  as  that  my  resoun  or  my  proces 
ne  go  nat  a-wey  with-oute  an  ende, 
we  ovven  to  graunten  that  the  sover- 
70  eiii  god  is  right  ful  of  soverein  parfit 
good.  And  we  han  establisshed  that 
the  soverein  good  is  verray  bHsful- 
nesse  :  thanne  mot  it  nedes  be,  that 
verray  blisfulnesse  is  set  in  soverein 
75  god.' 

'  This  take  I  wel,'  quod  I,  '  ne  this 
ne  may  nat  ben  withseid  in  no 
manere.' 

'  But  I  preye,'  quod  she,  '  see  now 

So  how  thou  mayst  proeven,  holily  and 

with-oute  corupcioun,  this  that  I  have 

seyd,  that  the   soverein  god  is  right 

ful  of  soverein  good.' 

'  In  which  manere  ?'  quod  I. 
85  '  Wenest  thou  aught,'  quod  she, 
'  that  this  prince  of  alle  thinges  have 
y-take  thilive  soverein  good  any-wher 
out  of  him-self,  of  which  soverein  good 
men  proveth  that  he  is  ful,  right  as 
90  thou  mightest  thinken  that  god,  that 
hath  blisfulnesse  in  him-self,  and 
thilke  blisfulnesse  that  is  in  him, 
weren  dyvers  in  substaunce  ?  For  yif 
thou  wene  that  god  have  received 
95  thilke  good  out  of  him-self,  thou 
mayst  wene  that  he  that  yaf  thilke 
good  to  god  be  more  worthy  than  is 
god.  But  I  am  bi-knowen  and  con- 
fesse,  and  that  right  dignely,  that  god 

100  is  right  worthy  aboven  alle  thinges  ; 
and,  yif  so  be  that  this  good  be  in  him 
by  nature,  but  that  it  is  dyvers  fro 
him  by  weninge  resoun,  sin  we  speke 
of  god  prince  of  alle  thinges  :    feigne 

105  who-so  feigne  may,  who  was  he  that 
hath  conioigned  thise  dyverse  thinges 
to-gider  ?  And  eek,  at  the  laste,  see 
wel  that  a  thing  that  is  dyvers  from 
any  thing,  that   thilke  thing  nis  nat 

no  that  same  thing  fro  which  it  is  under- 
stonden  to  ben  dyvers.  Thanne  fol- 
weth  it,  that  thilke  thing  that  by  his 
nature  is  dyvers  fro  soverein  good, 
that  that  thing  nis  nat  soverein  good; 

115  l)ut  certes,  that  were  a  felonous  cor- 
sedncsse  to  thinken  that  of  him  that 
nothing  nis  more  worth.  For  alwey, 
of  alle  thinges,  the  nature  of  hem  ne 
may  nat  ben    bettre    than    his  bigin- 


ning  ;    for  which   I    may  concluden,  120 
by  right    verray    resoun,    that    thilke 
that  is  biginning  of  alle  thinges,  thilke 
same    thing   is   soverein  good  in   his 
substaunce.' 

Boece.   '  Thou  hast  seyd  rightfully,' 125 
quod  I. 

Philosophie.  '  But  we  han  graunted,' 
quod  she,  '  that  the  soverein  good  is 
blisfulnesse.' 

'  And  that  is  sooth,'  quod  I.  130 

'Thanne,  quod  she,  '  moten  we 
nedes  graunten  and  confessen  that 
thilke    same  soverein  good  be  god.' 

'  Certes,'    quod  I,  '  1   ne   may   nat 
denye  ne  withstonde  the  resouns  pur- 135 
posed  ;   and  I  see  wel  that  it  folvveth 
by  strengthe  of  the  premisses.' 

'  Loke  now,'  quod  she,  '  yif  this  be 
proved  yit  more  fermely  thus:  that 
ther  ne  mowen  nat  ben  two  sover- 140 
ein  goodes  that  ben  dyverse  amonge 
hem-self.  For  certes,  the  goodes 
that  ben  dyverse  amonges  hem-self, 
that  oon  nis  nat  that  that  other  is; 
thanne  ne  [may]  neither  of  hem  ben  145 
parfit,  so  as  either  of  hem  lakketh  to 
other.  But  that  that  nis  nat  parfit, 
men  may  seen  apertly  that  it  nis  nat 
soverein.  The  thinges,  thanne,  that 
ben  sovereinly  goode,  ne  mowen  by  150 
no  wey  ben  dyverse.  But  I  have  wel 
concluded  that  blisfulnesse  and  god 
ben  the  soverein  good  ;  for  whiche 
it  mot  nedes  ben,  that  soverein  blis- 
fulnesse is  soverein  divinitee.'  155 

'  Nothing,'  quod  I,  '  nis  more  sooth- 
fast than  this,  ne  more  ferme  by  re- 
soun; ne  a  more  worthy  thing  than 
god  may  nat  ben  concluded.' 

'  Up-on  thise  thinges  thanne,'  quod  160 
she,  '  right  as  thise  geometriens,  whan 
they  han   shewed   hir  proposiciouns, 
ben  wont  to  bringen  in  thinges  that 
they  clepen  porismes,  or  declaraciouns 
of  forseide  thinges,  right  so  wole  I  yeve  165 
thee  heer  as  a  corollarie,  or  a  inede  of 
cor o line.     For-vvhy,  for  as  moche  as 
by  the    getinge  of  blisfulnesse    men 
ben  maked  blisful,  and  blisfulnesse  is 
divinitee:   thanne   is  it  manifest  and  170 
open,  that  by  the  getinge  of  divinitee 
men  ben  maked  blisful.     Right  as  by 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


169 


the  gftingo  of  lustice  [they  hen  maked 
iustj,  and  hy  the  getiiige  of  sapience 

175  tliey  hen  maked  wyse :  ri<;ht  so, 
nedes,  l)y  the  seinblalile  resoun,  whan 
they  han  geten  divinitee,  they  hen 
maked  goddes.  Tlianne  is  every  hhs- 
ful  man  god;    but  certes,  by  nature, 

iSo  ther  nis  but  o  god;  but,  by  the  par- 
ticipacioun  of  divinitee,  ther  ne  let  ne 
desturbeth  nothing  that  ther  ne  ben 
nianye  goddes.' 

'  This  is,'  quod  I, '  a  fair  thing  and  a 

1S5  precious,  clepe  it  as  thou  wolt;  be  it 
jiorisme  or  corollarie,'  or  mede  of  cor- 
otine  or  declaringes. 

•Certes,'    quod    she,    'nothing    nis 
fayrer  than  is  the   thing  that   by  re- 

190  soun  sholde  ben  added  to  thise  for- 
seide  thinges.' 

'  What  thing?  '  quod  I. 
'  So,'  quod  she,  '  as  it  semeth  that 
hlisfulnesse  conteneth  many  thinges, 

195  it  were  for  to  witen  whether  that  alle 
thise  thinges  maken  or  conioignen  as 
a  maner  body  of  blisfuhiesse,  by  dy- 
versitee  of  parlies  or  of  membres;  or 
elles,  yif  that  any  of  alle  thilke  thinges 

200  be  swich  that  it  acomplisshe  by  him- 
self the  substaunce  of  hlisfulnesse,  so 
that  alle  thise  othre  thinges  ben  re- 
ferred and  brought  to  hlisfulnesse,' 
that  is  to  seyn,  as  to  the  cheefof  hem. 

205  '  I  wolde,'  quod  I,  'that  thou  niak- 
edest  me  cleerly  to  understonde  what 
thou  seyst,  and  that  thou  recordedest 
me  the  forseyde  thinges.' 

'  Have  I  nat  iuged,'  quod  she, '  that 

210  hlisfulnesse  is  good?' 

'Vis,  forsothe,'  quod  I;   'and  that 
soverein  good.' 

'  Adde  thanne,'  quod  she,  '  thilke 
good,  that  is  maked  blisfiibtesse,  to 

215  alle  the  forseide  thinges;  for  thilke 
same  hlisfulnesse  that  is  denied  to  ben 
soverein  sufl'isaunce,  thilke  selve  is  sov- 
erein power,  soverein  reverence, sover- 
ein cleernesse  or  noblesse,  and  soverein 

220  delyt.  Conclusio.  What  seyst  thou 
thanne  of  alle  thise  thinges,  that  is  to 
seyn,  suffisaunte,  power,  and  this  othre 
thinges;  ben  they  thanne  as  membres 
of  l)lisfulnesse,  or  ben  they  referred 

225  and   brought  to  soverein  good,  right 


as  alle  thinges  that  ben   brought   to 
the  chief  of  hem?  ' 

'  I  understonde  wel;  '  quod  I, '  what 
thou  purposest  to  seke;  l)ut  I  desire 
for  to  herkne  that  thou  shewe  it  me.'  230 

'Tak  now  thus  the  discrecioun  of 
this  (juestioun,'  quod  she.  '  Yif  alle 
thise  thinges,'  quod  she,  'weren  mem- 
bres to  felicitee,  than  weren  they  dy- 
verse  that  oon  from  that  other;  and  235 
swich  is  the  nature  of  parties  or  of 
membres,  that  dyverse  membres  com- 
pounen  a  body.' 

'  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  it  hath  wel  ben 
shewed    heer-biforn,    that    alle    thise  240 
thinges  ben  alle  o  thing.' 

'Thanne  ben  they  none  membres,' 
quod  she;    'for  elles  it  sholde  seme 
that  hlisfulnesse  were  conioigned  al  of 
on  membre  allone;    but  that  is  a  thing  245 
that  may  nat  be  don.' 

'  This  thing,'  quod  I,  '  nis  nat  dout- 
ous;  but  I  abyde  to  herknen  the  rem- 
naunt  of  thy  questioun.' 

'This  is  open  and  cleer,'  quod  she,  250 
'  that  alle  othre  thinges  ben  referred 
and  brought  to  good.     For  therefore 
is  sufifisaunce  requered,  for  it  is  denied 
to  ben  good;    and  forthy  is  power  re- 
quered, for  men  trowen  also  that  it  be  255 
good ;   and  this  same  thing  mowen  we 
thinken  and  coniecten  of  reverence, 
and  of  noblesse,  and  of  delyt.    Thanne 
is  soverein  good  the  sonime  and  the 
cause  of  al  that  aughte  ben  desired;  260 
for-why  thilke  thing  that  with-holdeth 
no  good  in  it-self,  ne  semblaunce  of 
good,  it  ne  may  nat  wel  in  no  manere 
be    desired    ne    requered.     And    the 
contrarie :   for  thogh  that  thinges  by  265 
hir  nature  ne  ben  nat  goode,  algates, 
yif  men  wene  that  ben  goode,  yit  ben 
they  desired  as  though  that  they  weren 
verrayliche  goode.     And  therfor  is  it 
that  men  oughten  to  wene  by  right,  270 
that  bountee  be  the  soverein  fyn,  and 
the  cause  of  alle  the  thinges  that  ben 
to  requeren.     But  certes,  thilke  that  is 
cause  for  which   men    requeren    any 
thing,    it    semeth    that    thilke    same  275 
thing  lie  most  desired.     .As  thus:   yif 
that  a  wight  wolde  ryden  for  cause  of 
hele,  he  ne  desireth  nat  so  mochel  the 


170 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


moevinge  to  ryden,  as  the  effect  of 

280  his  hele.  Now  thanne,  sin  that  alle 
thinges  ben  requered  for  the  grace  of 
good,  they  ne  ben  nat  desired  of  alle 
folk  more  thanne  the  same  good. 
But  we  han  graunted  that  blisfulnesse 

285  is  that  thing,  for  whiche  that  alle  thise 
othre  thinges  ben  desired;  thanne  is 
it  thus  :  that,  certes,  only  blisfulnesse 
is  requered  and  desired.  By  whiche 
thing  it  sheweth  cleerly,  that  of  good 

290  and  of  blisfulnesse  is  al  oon  and  the 
same  substaunce.' 

'  I  see  nat,'  quod  I, '  wherfore  that 
men  mighten  discorden  in  this.' 

'  And  we  han  shewed  that  god  and 

295  verray  blisfulnesse  is  al  00  thing.' 
'  That  is  sooth,'  quod  I. 
'Thanne  mowen  we  conclude  sik- 
erly,  that  the  substaunce  of  god  is  set 
in  thilke  same  good,  and  in  non  other 

300  place. 

Metre  X. 

Hue  oinnes  par  iter  uenite  capti. 

O  Cometh  alle  to-gider  now,  ye  that 
ben  y-caught  and  y-bounde  with  wik- 
kede  cheynes,  by  the  deceivable  delyt 
of  erthely  thinges  enhabitinge  in  your 
5  thought !  Heer  shal  ben  the  reste  of 
your  labours,  heer  is  the  havene  sta- 
ble in  peysible  quiete;  this  allone  is 
the  open  refut  to  wrecches.  Glosa. 
This  is  to  seyn,  that  ye  that  hen  coin- 

10  bred  and  deceived  with  ivorldely  affec- 
cioHHS,  Cometh  now  to  this  sovcrein 
good,  that  is  god,  that  is  refut  to  hem 
that  wolen  comen  to  him.  Textus. 
Alle  the  thinges  that  the  river  Tagus 

15  yeveth  yowwith  hisgoldene  gravailes, 
or  elles  alle  the  thinges  that  the  river 
Hermus  yeveth  with  his  rede  brinke, 
or  that  Intlus  yeveth,  that  is  next  the 
bote  party  of  the  world,  that  medleth 

20  the  grene  stones  with  the  whyte,  ne 
sholde  nat  cleeren  the  lookinge  of 
your  thought,  but  hyden  rather  your 
blinde  corages  with-in  hir  derknesse. 
Al  that  lyketh  yow  heer,  and  excyteth 

25  and  moeveth  your  thoughtes,  the 
erthe  hath  norisshed  it  in  hise  lowe 
caves.     But  the  shyninge,  by  whiche 


the  hevene  is  governed  and  whennes 
he  hath  his  strengthe,  that  eschueth 
the  derke  overthrowinge  of  the  sowle ;  y^ 
and  who-so  may  knowen  thilke  light 
of  blisfulnesse,  he  shal  wel  seyn,  that 
the  whyte  hemes  of  the  sonne  ne  ben 
nat  cleer.' 

Prose  XI. 
Assentior,  inquam. 

Boece.  'I  assente  me,'  quod  I; 
'  for  alle  thise  thinges  ben  strongly 
bounden  with  right  ferme  resouns.' 

Philosophic.      '  How    mochel    wilt 
thou  preysen   it,'  quod  she,  '  yif  that     5 
thou  knowe  what  thilke  good  is?' 

'  I  wol  preyse  it,'  quod  I,  '  by  prys 
with-outen  ende,  yif  it  shal  bityde  me 
to  knowe  also  to-gider  god  that  is 
good.'  10 

'  Certes,'  quod  she,  '  that  shal  I  do 
thee  by  verray  resoun,  yif  that  tho 
thinges  that  I  have  concluded  a  litel 
her-biforn  dwellen  only  in  hir  first 
graunting.'  15 

'They  dwellen  graunted  to  thee,' 
quod  I ;  this  is  to  seyn,  as  ivho  seith  : 
I graunte  thy  forseide  conclusioiins. 

'  Have   I    nat   shewed  thee,'   quod 
she,   '  that  the  thinges  that  ben   re-   20 
quered  of  many  folkes  ne   ben  nat 
verray  goodes  ne  parfite,  for  they  ben 
dyverse  that  oon  fro  that  othre;    and 
so  as  ech  of  hem  is  lakkinge  to  other, 
they  ne  han  no  power  to  bringen  a   25 
good   that  is  ful   and  absolut?     But 
thanne  at  erst  ben  they  verray  good, 
whanne  they  ben  gadered  to-gider  alle 
in-to  o  forme  and  in-to  oon  wirkinge, 
so  that  thilke  thing  that  is  suffisaunce,    30 
thilke  same  be  power,  and  reverence, 
and  noblesse,  and  mirthe;    and  for- 
sothe,  but-yif  alle   thise  thinges  ben 
alle  oon  same  thing,  they  ne  han  nat 
wherby  that  they  mowen  ben  put  in    35 
the  noumber  of  thinges  that  oughten 
ben  requered  or  desired.' 

'  It  is  shewed,' quod  I;  '  ne  her-of 
may  ther  no  man  douten.' 

'The    thinges    thanne,'    quod    she,   40 
'  that  ne  ben  no  goodes  whanne  they 
ben  dyverse,   and  whan  they  begin- 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


171 


nen  to  hen  alle  oon  thing  thanne  hen 
they    goodes,    ne    comth  it  hem  nat 

45  thanne  hy  the  getinge  of  unitee,  that 
they  hen  niaked  goodes?' 
'  So  it  senieth,'  quod  1. 
•  Hut  al  thing  that  is  good,'  quod 
she,  '  grauntest  thou  that  it  be  good 

50  hy  the  participacioun  of  good,  or  no?  ' 

'  I  graunte  it,'  quod  I. 

'  Thanne     nmst     thou     graunten,' 

quod  she,  '  hy  seniblahle  resoun,  that 

oon    and    good    be    00    same    thing. 

55  P'or  of  thinges,  of  whiche  that  tlie 
effect  nis  nat  naturelly  diverse,  neiles 
the  substance  mot  be  00  same 
thing.' 

'  I  ne  may  nat  denye  that,'  quod  I. 

60  '  I  last  thou  nat  knowen  wel,'  quod 
she,  '  that  al  thing  that  is  hath  so 
longe  his  dwelhnge  and  his  sub- 
staunce  as  longe  as  it  is  oon  ;  but 
whan  it  forleteth  to  ben  oon,  it  mot 

65  nedes  dyen  and  corumpe  to-gider  ?  ' 
'  In  which  manere  ?  '  quod  I. 
'  Right    as    in    bestes,'    quod    she, 
'  whan  the  sowle  and  the  body  ben 
conioigned    in    oon  and   dwellen  to- 

70  gider,  it  is  cleped  a  beest.  And 
whan  hir  unitee  is  destroyed  by  the 
disseveraunce  of  that  oon  from  that 
other,  than  sheweth  it  wel  that  it  is  a 
ded   thing,  and  that  it  nis  no  lenger 

75  no  beest.  And  the  body  of  a  wight, 
whyl  it  dwelleth  in  00  forme  by  con- 
iuncccioun  of  membres,  it  is  wel  seyn 
that  it  is  a  figure  of  man-kinde. 
And  yif  the  parties  of  the  body  ben 

80  so  devyded  and  dissevered,  that  oon 
fro  that  other,  that  they  destroyen 
unitee,  the  body  forleteth  to  ben  that 
it  was  biforn.  And,  who-so  wolde 
renne    in    the    same    manere  by  alle 

85  thinges,  he  sholde  seen  that,  with- 
oute  doute,  every  thing  is  in  his  sub- 
staunce  as  longe  as  it  is  oon  ;  and 
whan  it  forleteth  to  ben  oon,  it  dyeth 
and  ]')erissheth.' 

90  '  Whan  I  considere,'  quod  I, 
'  manye  thinges,  I  see  non  other.' 

'  Is  ther  any-thing    thanne,'    quod 

she,  '  tliat,  in   as    moche  as   it    liveth 

naturelly,  that  forleteth  the  talent  or 

95  appetyt  of  his    beinge,  and   desireth 


to   come    to   deeth    and    to    corup- 
cioun  ? ' 

'  Yif  I  considere,'  quod  I,  '  the 
beestes  that  han  any  maner  nature 
of  wilninge  and  of  nillinge,  I  nee  100 
finde  no  beest,  but-yif  it  be  con- 
streined  fro  vvith-oute  forth,  that 
forleteth  or  despyseth  the  entencioun 
to  liven  and  to  duren,  or  that  wole, 
his  thankes,  hasten  him  to  dyen.  105 
For  every  beest  travaileth  him  to 
deffende  and  kepe  the  savacioun  of 
his  lyf,  and  eschueth  deeth  and  de- 
struccioun. 

But  certes,  I  doute  me  of  herbesiio 
and  of  trees,  that  is  to  seyn,  that  I  am 
in  a  dottle  of  swiche  thinges  as  hcrbes 
or  trees,  that  ne  han  no  felinge 
sowles,  ne  no  natnrel  ivirkinges  serT- 
iiige  to  appetytes  as  bestes  han,  whether  115 
tliey  han  appetyt  to  chvellen  and  to 
ditren.^ 

'  Certes,'  quod  she,  *  ne  ther-of  thar 
thee  nat  doute.  Now  loke  up-on  thise 
herbes  and  thise  trees ;  they  wexen  first  120 
in  swiche  places  as  ben  covenable  to 
hem,  in  whiche  places  they  ne  mowen 
nat  sone  dyen  ne  dryen,  as  longe 
as  hir  nature  may  deffenden  hem. 
For  som  of  hem  waxen  in  feeldes,  125 
and  som  in  mountaignes,  and  othre 
waxen  in  mareys,  and  othre  eleven 
on  roches,  and  somme  waxen  plenti- 
vous  in  sondes  ;  and  yif  that  any 
wight  enforce  him  to  beren  hem  in-to  130 
othre  places,  they  wexen  drye.  For 
nature  yeveth  to  every  thing  that  that 
is  convenient  to  him,  and  travaileth 
that  they  ne  dye  nat,  as  longe  as  they 
han  power  to  dwellen  and  to  liven.  135 
What  woltow  seyn  of  this,  that  they 
drawen  alle  hir  norisshinges  by  hir 
rotes,  right  as  they  hadden  hir 
mouthes  y-plounged  with-in  the 
erthes,  and  sheden  by  hir  maryes  hir  140 
wode  and  hir  bark?  And  what  wol- 
tow seyn  of  this,  that  thilke  thing 
that  is  right  softe,  as  the  marye  is, 
that  is  ahvey  hid  in  the  sete,  al  with- 
inne,  and  that  is  defended  fro  with-  145 
oute  by  the  stedefastnesse  of  woile  ; 
and  that  the  uttereste  bark  is  put 
ayeins   the    destemperaunce    of  the 


172 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


hevene,    as   a   defendour   mighty   to 

i5osuffren  harm?  And  thus,  certes, 
maystow  wel  seem  how  greet  is  the 
diligence  of  nature  ;  for  alle  thinges 
renoveltn  and  j)uplisshen  hem  with 
seed    y-multiplyed  ;    ne  ther    nis    no 

155  man  that  ne  wot  wel  that  theyne  ben 
right  as  a  foundement  and  edilice, 
for  to  duren  nat  only  for  a  tyme,  but 
right  as  for  to  duren  perdurably  by 
generacioun.     And    the    thinges  eek 

160  that  men  wenen  ne  haven  none 
sowles,  ne  desire  they  nat  ech  of 
hem  by  seniblable  resoun  to  kepen 
that  is  hirs,  that  is  to  seyn,  that  is 
acordinge  to  hir  nature  in  conserva- 

165  cioun  of  hir  heinge  and  enduringe  ? 
For  wher-for  elles  bereth  lightnesse 
the  flaumbes  up,  and  the  weighte 
presseth  the  erthe  a-doun,  but  for  as 
moche    as   thilke    places    and    thilke 

170  moevinges  ben  covenable  to  everich 
of  hem?  And  forsothe  every  thing 
kepeth  thilke  that  is  acordinge  and 
propre  to  him,  right  as  thinges  that 
ben  contraries  and  enemys  corompen 

175  hem.  And  yit  the  harde  thinges,  as 
stones,  clyven  and  holden  hir  parties 
to-gider  right  faste  and  harde,  and 
deffenden  hem  in  withstondinge  that 
they  ne  departe  nat  lightly  a-twinne. 

180  And  the  thinges  that  ben  softe  and 
fietinge,  as  is  water  and  eyr,  they 
departen  lightly,  and  yeven  place  to 
hem  that  breken  or  devyden  hem; 
but  natheles,  they  retornen  sone  ayein 

185  in-to  the  same  thinges  fro  whennes 
they  ben  arraced.  But  fyr  fleeth 
and  refuseth  al  devisioun.  Ne  I  ne 
trete  nat  heer  now  of  wilful  moevinges 
of  the  sowle  that  is  knowinge,  but  of 

190  the  natural  entencioun  of  thinges, 
as  thus :  right  as  we  swolwe  the 
mete  that  we  receiven  and  ne  thinke 
nat  on  it,  and  as  we  drawen  our 
breeth  in  slepinge  that  we  wite  it  nat 

195  whyle  we  slepen.  For  certes,  in  the 
beestes,  the  love  of  hir  livinges  ne  of 
hir  beinges  ne  comth  nat  of  the  wil- 
ninges  of  the  sowle,  but  of  the  bigin- 
ninges  of  nature.    For  certes,  thorugh 

200  constreininge  causes,  wil  desireth 
•and   embraceth    ful    ofte    tyme    the 


deeth  that  nature  dredeth ;  that  is  to 
seyn  as  thus:  that  a  fnan  may  ben 
constreyned  so,  by  som  cause,  that  his 
wil  desireth  and  taketh  the  deeth  20^^ 
vihich  that  nature  hateth  and  dredeth 
ful  sore.  And  somtyme  we  seeth  the 
contrarye,  as  thus :  that  the  wil  of  a 
wight  destorbeth  and  constreyneth 
that  that  nature  desireth  and  requer-210 
eth  al-wey,  that  is  to  seyn,  the  werk 
of  generacioun,  by  the  whiche  gener- 
acioun only  dwelleth  and  is  sus- 
tened  the  long  durabletee  of  mortal 
thinges.  215 

And  thus  this  charitee  and  this 
love,  that  every  thing  hath  to  him- 
self, ne  comth  nat  of  the  moevinge 
of  the  sowle,  but  of  the  entencioun  of 
nature.  For  the  purviaunce  of  god  220 
hath  yeven  to  thinges  that  ben  creat 
of  him  this,  that  is  a  ful  gret  cause  to 
liven  and  to  duren;  for  which  they 
desiren  naturelly  hir  lyf  as  longe  as 
ever  they  mowen.  For  which  thou  225 
mayst  nat  drede,  by  no  manere,  that 
alle  the  thinges  that  ben  anywhere, 
that  they  ne  requeren  naturelly  the 
ferme  stablenesse  of  perdurable 
dwellinge,  and  eek  the  eschuinge  of 230 
destruccioun.' 

Boece.  '  Now  confesse  I  wel,' 
quod  I,  '  that  I  see  now  wel  certeinly, 
with-oute  doutes,  the  thinges  that 
whylom  semeden  uncertain  to  me.'      235 

'  But,'  quod  she,  '  thilke  thing  that 
desireth  to  be  and  to  dwellen  perdur- 
ably, he  desireth  to  ben  oon;  for  yif 
that  that  oon  were  destroyed,  certes, 
beinge  ne  shulde  ther  non  dwellen  to  240 
no  wight.' 

'That  is  sooth,'  quod  I. 

'Thanne,'  quod  she,  'desiren  alle 
thinges  oon  ?  ' 

'  I  assente,'  quod  I.  245 

*  And  I  have  shewed,'  quod  she, 
'  that  thilke  same  oon  is  thilke  that  is 
good  ? ' 

'  Ye,  for  sothe,'  quod  I. 

'Alle  thinges  thanne,'    quod    she,  250 
'  requiren    good;     and    thilke    good 
thanne  mayst    thou    descryven    right 
thus :  good  is  thilke  thing  that  every 
wight  desireth.' 


BOErillUS.     BOOK    III. 


173 


255  '  Ther  ne  may  be  thought,' quod  I, 
'  no  more  verray  thing.  J'ur  either 
alle  thiiiges  hen  referred  and  brought 
to  nought,  and  tloteren  with-oute 
governour,  despoiled  of  oon  as  of  hir 

260  propre   heved ;    or   elles,   yif  ther    be    I 
any  thing  to  which  that   alle   thinges    \ 
tenden   and   hyen,   that   thing   moste 
ben  the  sovorein  good  of  alle  goodes.' 
Thanne    seyde   she    thus :     '  O   my 

265  nory,'  quod  she,  '  I  have  gret  glad- 
nesse  of  thee;  for  thou  hast  ficched 
in  thyu  herte  the  mieldel  soothfast- 
nesse,  //itU  is  to  seyn,  the  prikke ;  but 
this    thing    hath    ben    descovered    to 

270  thee,  in  that  thou  seydest  that  thou 
wistest  nat  a  litel  her-biforn.' 
'What  was  that?'  quod  I. 
'That  thou   ne   wistest   nat,'  quod 
she,  '  which  was  the  ende  of  thinges; 

273  and  certes,  that  is  the  thing  that  every 
wight  desireth;  and  for  as  mochel  as 
we  han  gadered  and  comprehended 
that  good  is  thilke  thing  that  is  de- 
sired of  alle,  thanne  moten  we  nedes 

2S0  confessen,  that  good  is  the  fyn  of  alle 
thinges. 

Metre  XI. 

Qidsqids  profunda  tnente  uestigat 
uerw7i. 

Who-so  that  seketh  sooth  by  a  deep 
thnglit,  and  coveiteth  nat  to  ben  de- 
ceived by  no  mis-weyes,  lat  him  rollen 
and  trenden  with-inne  him-self  the 
5  light  of  his  inward  sighle;  and  lat 
him  gadere  ayein,  enclyninge  in-to  a 
conipas,  the  longe  moevinges  of  his 
thoiightes :  and  lat  him  techen  his 
corage  that  he  hath  enclosed  and  hid 

10  in  his  tresors,  al  that  he  compasseth 
or  seketh  fro  with-oute.  And  thanne 
thilke  thinge,  that  the  blake  cloude 
of  errour  whylom  hadde  y-covered, 
shal  lighten  more  cleerly  thanne  Phe- 

15  bus  him-self  ne  shyneth. 

Glosa.  IVho-so  Tvole  seken  the  deep 
groiinde  of  sooth  in  his  thought,  and 
wol  nat  lie  deceived  by  false  proposi- 
cioiins  that  goon  amis  fro  the  troiithe, 

20  lat  him  'wel  examine  and  rolle  -with- 
inne  him-self  the  nature  and  the  pro- 


pretees  of  the  thing;  and  lat  him  yit 
eftsones  examine  and  rollen  his 
thoughtes  liy  good  deliberacioun,  or  that 
he  deme;  and  tat  him  techen  his  soiole  25 
that  it  hath,  by  natural  principles 
kindeliche  y-hid  with-in  it-self,  alle 
the  trouthe  the  whiche  he  imagineth  to 
ben  in  thinges  loith-oute.  And  thanne 
alle  the  derknesse  of  his  misknowinge  30 
shal  seme  more  evidently  to  sighte  of 
his  understondinge  thanne  the  sonne 
ne  semeth  to  sighte  with-oiite-forth. 

For  certes  the  body,  bringinge  the 
weighte  of   foryetinge,   ne    hath   nat    35 
chased  out  of  your   thoughte  al   the 
oXe.^xv^.e.'i.^v:  of  your  knoivinge  ;  for  cer- 
teinly  the  seed  of  sooth  haldeth  and 
clyveth  with-in  your  corage,  and  it  is 
awaked  ami  excyted  by  the  winde  and    40 
by  the  blastes  of  doctrine.     For  wher- 
for  elles  demen  ye  of  your  owne  wil 
the  rightes,  whan  ye  ben  axed,  but- 
yif   so   were  that  the  norisshinge  of 
resoun  ne  livede  y-plounged   in   the    45 
depthe  of  your  herte?  this  is  to  seyn, 
hoiv  sholden  men  demen  the  sooth  of  any 
tiling  that  were  axed,  yif  ther  nere  a 
rote    of   soothfastnesse    that  were  y- 
plounged  and  hid  in  naturel  princi-    5° 
pies,    the   whiche   soothfastnesse    lived 
7vith-in  the  deepnesse  of  the  thought. 
And  yif  so  be  that  the  Muse  and  the 
doctrine  of    Plato    singeth   sooth,    al 
that  every  wight  lerneth,  he  ne   doth    55 
no-thing  elles  thanne  but  recordeth, 
as   men   recorden   thinges   that   ben 
foryeten.' 

Prose    XII. 
Turn  ego,  Platoni,  inquam. 

Thanne  seide  I  thus:  'I  acorde  me 
gretly  to  Plato,  for  thou  remembrest 
and  recordest  me  thise  thinges  yit  the 
secounde  tyme;  that  is  to  seyn,  lirst 
whan  I  loste  my  memorie  by  the  con-  5 
tagious  coniunccioun  of  the  body  with 
the  sowle;  and  eftsones  afterward, 
whan  I  loste  it,  confounded  by  the 
charge  and  by  the  burdene  of  my 
sorwe.'  10 

And    thanne  seide   she  thus :    '  yif 
thou  loke,'  quod  she, '  tirst  the  thinges 


174 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


that  thou  hast  graunted,  it  ne  shal  nat 
beti  right  fer  that  thou  ne  shalt  re- 

15  membren     thilke     thing     that     thou 
seydest  that  thou  nistest  nat.' 
'What  thing?'  quod  I. 
'  By    whiche    governement,'    quod 
she,  '  that  this  world  is  governed.' 

20  'Me  remeinbreth  it  vvel,'  quod  I; 
'  and  I  confesse  wel  that  I  ne  wiste  it 
naught.  But  al-be-it  so  that  I  see 
now  from  a-fer  what  thou  purposest, 
algates,  I  desire  yit  to  herkene  it  of 

25  thee  more  pleynly.' 

'Thou  ne  wendest  nat,'  quod  she, 
'  a  litel  her-biforn,  that  men  sholden 
doute  that  this  world  nis  governed 
by  god.' 

30  '  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  ne  yit  ne  doute 
I  it  naught,  ne  I  nel  never  wene  that 
it  were  to  doute  ;  as  who  seith,  hut  I 
wot  wel  that  god  governeth  this  zvorlJ ; 
and  I  shal  shortly  answeren  thee  by 

35  what  resouns  I  am  brought  to  this. 
This  world,'  quod  I,  '  of  so  nianye 
dyverse  and  contrarious  parties,  ne 
niighte  never  han  ben  assembled  in  o 
forme,  l)ut-yif  ther  nere  oon  that  con- 

40  i(jignede  so  manye  dyverse  thinges  ; 
and  the  same  dyversitee  of  hir  na- 
tures, that  so  discorden  that  oon  fro 
that  other,  moste  departen  and  un- 
ioignen    the    thinges    that    ben    con- 

45  ioigned,  yif  ther  ne  were  oon  that 
contenede  that  he  hath  conioined  and 
y-l)Ounde.  Ne  the  certein  ordre  of 
nature  ne  sholde  nat  bringe  forth  so 
ordenee    moevinges,    by    places,    by 

50  tymes,  liy  doinges,  by  spaces,  by  quali- 
tees,  yif  ther  ne  were  oon  that  were 
ay  stedefast  dwellinge,  that  ordey- 
nede  and  disponede  thise  dyversitees 
of   moevinges.      And    thilke    thing, 

■, -,  vvliat-so-ever  it  be,  by  which  that  alle 
I  hinges  ben  y-maked  and  y-lad,  I 
clepe  him  "god";  that  is  a  word 
that  is  used  to  alle  folk.' 

rhanne  seyde  she  :   '  sin  thou  felest 

60  thus  thise  thinges,'  quod  she,  'I  trowe 
that  I  have  litel  more  to  done  that 
tiiou,  mighty  of  welefulnesse,  hool 
and  sounde,  ne  see  eftsones  thy  con- 
tree.      But   lat   us   loken   the   thinges 

65  that    we    han    purposed    her-biforn. 


Have  I  nat  noumbred  and  seyd,' 
quod  she,  '  that  suffisaunce  is  in  blis- 
fulnesse,  and  we  han  acorded  that 
god  is  thilke  same  blisfulnesse?' 

'  Yis,  forsothe,'  quod  I.  70 

'  And  that,  to  governe  this  world,' 
quod  she, '  ne  shal  he  never  han  nede 
of  non  help  fro  with-oute?  For  elles, 
yif  he  hadde  nede  of  any  help,  he  ne 
sholde  nat  have  no  ful  suffisaunce?'       75 

'  Yis,  thus  it  mot  nedes  be,'  quod  I. 

'Thanne  ordeineth  he  by  him-self 
al-one  alle  thinges?  '  quod  she. 

'That  may  nat  be  deneyed,'  quod 
I.  80 

'And  I  have  shewed  that  god  is 
the  same  good  ?  ' 

'  It  remembreth  me  wel,'  quod  I. 

'Thanne  ordeineth  he  alle  thinges 
by  thilke  good,'  quod  she;  'sin  he,  85 
which  that  we  han  acorded  to  be 
good,  governeth  alle  thinges  by  him- 
self; and  he  is  as  a  keye  and  a  stere 
by  which  that  the  edifice  of  this  world 
is  y-kept  stable  and  with-oute  cor-  90 
oumpinge.' 

'  I  acorde  me  greetly,'  quod  I ;  '  and 
I  aperceivede  a  litel  her-biforn  that 
thou  woldest  seye  thus;  al-be-it  so 
that  it  were  by  a  thinne  suspecioun.'     95 

'  I  trowe  it  wel,'  quod  she  ;  '  for, 
as  I  trowe,  thou  ledest  now  more 
ententifly  thyne  eyen  to  loken  the 
verray  goodes.  But  natheles  the 
thing  that  I '  shal  telle  thee  yit  ne  100 
sheweth  nat  lasse  to  loken.' 

'  What  is  that?'  quod  I. 

'  So  as  men  trowen,'  quod  she, '  and 
that  rightfully,  that  god  governeth 
alle  thinges  by  the  keye  of  his  good-  105 
nesse,  and  alle  thise  same  thinges,  as 
I  have  taught  thee,  hasten  hem  by 
naturel  entencioun  to  comen  to  good  : 
ther  may  no  man  douten  that  they 
ne  be  governed  voluntariely,  and  that  no 
they  ne  converten  hem  of  hir  owne 
wil  to  the  wil  of  hir  ordenour,  as  they 
that  ben  acordinge  and  enclyninge 
to  hir  governour  and  hir  king.' 

'  It  mot  nedes  be  so,'  quod  I;    '  for  115 
the  reaume  ne  sholde  nat  semen  blis- 
ful  yif  ther  were  a  yok  of  misdraw- 
inges    in    dyverse    parties;     ne    the 


BOETFIIUS.     BOOK   III. 


175 


savinge  of  obedient  thinges  ne  sholde 

120  nat  l)e.' 

'  Tlianne  is  ther  nothing,'  quod  she, 
'  that  kepeth  his  nature,  that  enforceth 
him  to  goon  ayein  god?'  * 

'  No,'  quod  I. 

125  'And  yif  that  any-thing  enforcede 
him  to  with-stonde  god,  mighte  it 
availen  at  the  laste  aycins  him,  that 
we  han  graunted  to  ben  ahnighty  by 
the  right  of  bhsfulnesse?  ' 

130  '  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  al-outrely  it  ne 
mighte  nat  availen  him.' 

'Thanne  is  ther  no-thing,'  quod 
she,  '  that  either  wole  or  may  with- 
stonden  to  tliis  soverein  good?' 

135      '  I  trowe  nat,'  quod  I. 

'  Thanne  is  thill^e  the  soverein 
good,'  quod  she,  '  that  alle  thinges 
governeth  strongly,  and  ordeyneth 
hem  softely.' 

140  Thanne  seyde  I  thus:  'I  delyte 
me,'  quod  I,  '  nat  only  in  the  endes 
or  in  the  somme  of  the  resouns  that 
thou  hast  concluded  and  proeved, 
but  thilUe  wordes  that  thou  usest  de- 

145  lyten  me  moche  more;  so,  at  the 
laste,  fi)oles  that  sumtyme  renden 
grete  thinges  oughten  ben  ashamed 
of  hem-self;  '  that  is  to  seyn,  that  we 
fooles  that  reprehenden  wikkedly  the 

1^0  thinges  that  touchen  godJes  govern- 
atince,  we  oughten  ben  ashamed  of 
our-self :  as  I,  that  sevde  that  god  re- 
fits eth  only  the  werkes  of  men,  and  ne 
entremeteth  nat  of  hem  ^ 

155  'Thou  hast  wel  herd,'  quod  she, 
'  the  fal)les  of  the  poetes,  how  the 
giaunts  assaileden  the  hevene  with 
the  goddes;  but  forsothe,  the  debonair 
force  of  god  deposede  hem,  as  it  was 

160  worthy;  that  is  to  seyn,  destroyede  the 
giaunts,  as  it  7vas  worthy.  But  wilt 
thou  that  we  ioignen  to-gider  thilke 
same  resouns?  For  peraventure,  of 
swich    coniuncioun   may   sterten    up 

165  som  fair  sparkle  of  sooth.' 

'  Do,'  quod  I,  '  as  thee  liste.' 
'  Wenest  thou,'  quod  she,  '  that  god 
ne  be  almighty?     No  man  is  in  doute 
of  it.' 

170  'Certes,'  ([uod  I,  'no  wight  ne 
douteth  it,  yif  he  be  in  his  minde.' 


'  But  he,'  quod  she, '  that  is  almighty, 
ther  nis  nothing  that  he  ne  may?' 

'That  is  sooth,'  ([uod  I. 

'  May  god  don  yvel?'  quod  she.        175 

'  Nay,  forsothe,'  quod  I. 

'  Thanne  is  yvel  nothing,'  quod 
she,  '  sin  that  he  ne  may  nat  don  yvel 
that  may  don  alle  thinges.' 

'  Scornest  thou  me?'  quod  I;    ^  or  \%o 
elles  pleyest  thou  or  deceivest  thou  vie, 
that  hast  so  woven  nie  with  thy  re- 
souns the  hous  of  Dedalus,  so  entre- 
laced  that  it  is  unable  to  be  unlaced; 
thou    that   other-whyle    entrest    ther  185 
thou    issest,    and    other-whyle    issest 
ther  thou  entrest,  ne  foldest  thou  nat 
to-gider,  by  rcplicacioun  of  wordes,  a 
maner   wonderful    cercle  or  environ- 
inge  of  the  simplicitee  devyne?    For  190 
certes,  a  litel  her-biforn,  whan  thou 
bigunne  at  blisfulnesse,  thou  seydest 
that  it  is  soverein  good;   and  seydest 
that  it  is  set  in   soverein   god;     and 
seydest  that  god  him-self  is  soverein  195 
good;    and  that  god  is  the  fulle  blis- 
fulnesse;   for  which   thou  yave  me  as 
a  covenable  yift,  that  is  to  seyn,  that 
no  wight  nis  blisful  but-yif  he  be  god 
also  ther-with.     And  seidest  eek,  that  200 
the  forme  of  good  is  the  substaunce 
of    god    and    of     blisfulnesse;     and 
seidest,  that  thilke  same  oon  is  thilke 
same  good,  that  is  requered  and  de- 
sired  of   alle   the   kinde    of   thinges.  205 
And  thou  proevedest,  in   disputinge, 
that  god  governeth  all  the  thinges  of 
the    world    by   the    governements    of 
bountee,  and  seydest,  that  alle  thinges 
wolen  obeyen   to   him;    and    seydest, 210 
that  the  nature  of  yvel  nis  no-thing. 
And  thise  thinges  ne  shewedest  thou 
nat  with    none    resouns    y-taken    fro 
with-oute,  but  by   proeves   in   cercles 
«;/(/ hoomlich   knowen;    the   vvhiche2i5 
proeves  drawen  to  hem-self  hir  feith 
and    hir  acord,    everich    of   hem    of 
other.' 

Thanne  seyde  she  thus:  'I  ne 
scorne  thee  nat,  ne  pleye,  ne  deceive  220 
thee;  but  I  have  shewed  thee  the 
thing  that  is  grettest  over  alle  thinges 
by  the  yift  of  god,  that  we  whylom 
preyeden.     For  this  is  the  forme  of 


176 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   III. 


225  the  devyne  substaunce,  that  is  swich 
that  it  ne  slydeth  nat  in-to  outtercst 
foreine  thinges,  ne  ne  receiveth  no 
straunge  thinges  in  him;  but  right  as 
Parmenides  seyde  in  Greek  of  thilke 

230  devyne  substaunce;  he  seyde  thus: 
that  "  thilke  devyne  substauuce  torn- 
eth  the  world  and  the  moevable  cercle 
of  thinges,  whyl  thilke  devyne  sub- 
staunce kepeth  it-self  with-oute  moev- 

235  inge;  "  t/iat  is  to  seyn,  that  it  ne 
moeveth  never-mo,  and  yit  it  moeveth 
alle  othre  thinges.  But  natheles,  yif 
I  have  stired  resouns  that  ne  ben  nat 
taken    fro   with-oute   the  compas    of 

240  thing  of  which  we  treten,  but  resouns 
that  ben  bistowed  with-in  that  com- 
pas, ther  nis  nat  why  that  thou  shold- 
est  merveilen;  sin  thou  hast  lerned 
by  the  sentence  of  Plato,  that  "  nedes 

245  the  wordes  moten  be  cosines  to  the 
thinges  of  which  they  speken." 

Metre  XII. 

Felix,  qui  potuit  boni. 

Blisful  is  that  man  that  may  seen 
the  clere  welle  of  good;  blisful  is  he 
that  may  unbinden  him  fro  the  bondes 
of  the  hevy  erthe.  The  poete  of 
5  Trace,  Orpheus,  that  whylom  hadde 
right  greet  sorwe  for  the  deeth  of  his 
wyf,  after  that  he  hadde  maked,  by 
his  weeply  songes,  the  wodes,  moev- 
able, to  rennen;    and  hadde   maked 

10  the  riveres  to  stonden  stille;  and 
hadde  maked  the  hertes  and  the 
hindes  to  ioignen,  dredeles,  hir  sydes 
to  cruel  lyouns,  for  to  herknen  his 
songe ;    and   hadde   maked    that   the 

15  hare  was  nat  agast  of  the  hounde, 
which  that  was  plesed  by  his  songe  : 
so,  whan  the  moste  ardaunt  love  of 
his  wif  brende  the  entrailes  of  his 
brest,  ne  the  songes  that  hadden  over- 

20  comen  alle  thinges  ne  mighten  nat 
asswagen  hir  lord  Orpheus,  he  pley- 
nede  him  of  the  hevene  goddes  that 
weren  cruel  to  him;  he  wente  him  to 
the   houses  of  helle.      And  there  he 

25  temprede  hise  blaundisshinge  songes 
by  resowninge  strenges,  and  spak  and 
song  in  wepinge  al  that  ever  he  hadde 


received  and  laved  out  of  the  noble 

Welles  of  his  moder  Calliope  the 
goddesse;  and  he  song  with  as  30 
mochel  as  he  mighte  of  wepinge,  and 
with  as  moche  as  love,  that  doublede 
his  Sorwe,  mighte  yeve  him  and  techen 
him;  and  he  commoevede  the  helle, 
and  requerede  and  bisoughte  by  svvele  35 
preyere  the  lordes  of  sowles  in  helle, 
of  relesinge;  that  is  to  seyn,  to  yilden 
him  his  luyf. 

Cerberus,  the  porter  of  helle,  with 
his  three  hevedes,  was  caught  and  al  40 
abayst  for  the  newe  song;  and  the 
three  goddesses.  Furies,  and  venger- 
esses  of  felonyes,  that  tormenten  and 
agasten  the  sowles  by  anoy,  woxen 
sorwful  and  sory,  and  wepen  teres  for  45 
pitee.  Tho  ne  was  nat  the  heved  of 
Ixion  y-tormented  by  the  overthrow- 
inge  wheel  ;  and  Tantalus,  that  was 
destroyed  by  the  woodnesse  of  longe 
thurst,  despyseth  the  Hodes  to  drinke  ;  50 
the  fowl  that  highte  voltor,  that  eteth 
the  stomak  or  the  giser  of  Tityus,  is 
so  fulfild  of  his  song  that  it  nil  eten 
ne  tyren  no  more.  At  the  laste  the 
lord  and  luge  of  sowles  was  moeved  55 
to  misericordes  and  cryde,  "  we  ben 
overcomen,"  quod  he;  "  yive  we  to 
Orpheus  his  wyf  to  here  him  com- 
panye;  he  hath  wel  y-bought  hir  by 
his  song  and  his  ditee  ;  but  we  wol  60 
putte  a  lawe  in  this,  and  covenaunt 
in  the  yifte  :  that  is  to  seyn,  that,  til 
he  be  out  of  helle,  yif  he  loke  behinde 
him,  that  his  wyf  shal  comen  ayein 
unto  us."  65 

But  what  is  he  that  may  yive  a 
lawe  to  loveres  ?  Love  is  a  gretter 
lawe  and  a  strenger  to  him-self  than 
any  lawe  that  men  may  yeven. 
Alias !  whan  Orpheus  and  his  wyf  70 
weren  almest  at  the  termes  of  the 
night,  that  is  to  seyn,  at  the  laste 
boundes  of  helle,  Orpheus  lokede 
abakward  on  Eurydice  his  wyf,  and 
loste  hir,  and  was  deed.  75 

This  fable  aperteineth  to  yow  alle, 
who-so-ever  desireth  or  seketh  to 
lede  his  thought  in-to  the  soverein 
day,  that  is  to  seyn,  to  cleernesse  of 
soverein  good.     For  vvho-so  that  ever    80 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


177 


be  so  over-comen  that  he  ficche  his 
eyen  into  the  putte  of  helle,  that  is 
to  seyn,  who-so  sette  his  thotti^htes  in 
erthely  thinges,  al  that  ever  he  hath 


drawen  of  the  noble  good  celestial,    85 
he    leseth    it    whan    he    loketh    the 
helles,'    that  is   to   seyn,   in-to   iowe 
thinges  of  the  erthe. 


Explicit  Liher  lercius. 


BOOK  IV. 


Prose  I. 


Ilec  cum  rhilosophia,  dignitate  uul- 
tits. 

Whan  Philosophye  ha<lde  songen 
softcly  ami  tlelitably  the  furseide 
thinges,  kepiiige  the  dignitee  of  hir 
chere  and  the  weighte  of  hir  wordes, 
r  I  thanne,  that  ne  hadde  nat  al-outerly 
foryeten  the  wepinge  and  the  niourn- 
inge  that  was  set  in  myn  herte,  for- 
brak  the  entencioun  of  hir  that 
entendede    yit    to    seyn    some    othre 

10  thinges.  '  O,'  quod  I,  'thou  that  art 
gyderesse  of  verrey  light;  the  thinges 
that  thou  hast  seid  me  hider-to  ben 
so  clere  to  me  and  so  shewinge  by 
the  devyne  lookinge  of  hem,  and  by 

i:  thy  resouns,  that  they  ne  mowen  ben 
overconien.  And  thilke  thinges  that 
thou  toldest  me,  al-be-it  so  that  I 
hadde  whylom  foryeten  hem,  for  the 
sorwe    of   the   wrong   that    hath  ben 

20  don  to  me,  yit  natheles  they  ne 
weren  nat  al-outrely  unknowen  to 
me.  But  this  same  is,  namely,  a 
right  greet  cause  of  my  sorwe,  so  as 
the  governour  of  thinges  is  good,  yif 

25  that  yveles  mowen  ben  Ijyany  weyes; 
or  elles  yif  that  yveles  passen  with- 
oute  punisshinge.  The  whiche  thing 
only,  how  worthy  it  is  to  ben  won- 
dred   up-on,   thou   considerest  it  wel 

30  thy-self  certeinly.  But  yit  to  this  thing 
ther  is  yit  another  thing  y-ioigned, 
more  to  ben  wondred  up-on.  For 
felonye  is  emperesse,  and  fiourethy'«/ 
0/  rich  esses  ;  and  vertu  nis  nat  al-oidy 

35  with-oute  medes,  but  it  is  cast  under 
and  fortroden  under  the  feet  of  fclon- 
ous  folk  ;  and  it  abyeth  the  torments 
in  stede  of  wikkede  felounes.  Of 
alle  whiche  thinges  ther  nis  no  wight 
N 


that  may  merveylen  y-nough,  ne 
compleine,  that  swiche  thinges  ben 
doon  in  the  regne  of  gode,  that  alle 
thinges  woot  and  alle  thinges  may, 
and  newole  nat  but  only  gode 
thinges.' 

Thanne  seyde  she  thus :  '  Certes,' 
quod  she,  '  that  were  a  greet  mer- 
veyle,  and  an  enbasshinge  with-outen 
ende,  and  wel  more  horrible  than 
alle  monstres,  yif  it  were  as  thou 
wenest  ;  that  is  to  seyn,  that  in  the 
right  ordenee  hous  of  so  mochel  a 
fader  and  an  ordenour  of  meynee, 
that  the  vesseles  that  ben  foule  and 
vyle  sholden  ben  honoured  and 
heried,  and  the  precious  vesseles 
sholden  ben  defouled  ami  vyle;  but 
it  nis  nat  so.  For  yif  tho  thinges 
that  I  have  concluded  a  litel  her- 
biforn  ben  kept  hole  and  unraced, 
thou  shalt  wel  knowe  by  the  autor- 
itee  of  god,  of  the  whos  regne  I 
speke,  that  certes  the  gode  folk  ben 
alvvey  mighty,  and  shrewes  ben  alwey 
out-cast  and  feble  ;  ne  the  vyces  ne 
ben  never-mo  with-oute  peyne,  ne 
the  vertues  ne  ben  nat  with-oute 
mede  ;  and  that  blisfulnesses  comen 
alvvey  to  goode  folk,  and  infortune 
comth  alwey  to  wikked  folk.  And 
thou  shalt  wel  knowe  many  thinges 
of  this  kinde,  that  shollen  cesen  thy 
pleintes,  and  strengthen  thee  with 
stedefast  sadnesse.  And  for  thou 
hast  seyn  the  forme  of  the  verray 
blisfulnesse  by  me,  that  have  whylom 
shewed  it  thee,  and  thou  hast  knowen 
in  whom  blisfulnesse  is  y-set,  alle 
thinges  y-treted  that  1  trowe  ben  nec- 
essarie  to  putten  forth,  I  shal  shewe 
thee  the  wey  that  shal  bringen  thee 
ayein  un-to  thyn  hous.     And  I  shal 


40 


45 


60 


80 


178 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


ricchen  fetheres  in  thy  thought,  by 
whiche  it  may  arysen  in  heighte,  so 
85  that,  alle  triliulacioun  y-doa  awey, 
thou,  by  my  gydinge  and  by  my  path 
and  by  my  sledes,  shall  movve  retorne 
hool  and  sound  in-to  thy  contree. 

Metre  I. 

Sunt  etenim  pennae  uolucres  niiki. 

I  have,  forsothe,  swifte  fetheres 
that  surmounten  the  heighte  of 
hevene.  Whan  the  swifte  thought 
hath  clothed  it-self  in  the  fetheres,  it 
5  despyseth  the  hateful  erthes,  and 
surmounteth  the  roundnesse  of  the 
grete  ayr  ;  and  it  seeth  the  cloudes 
behinde  his  bale  ;  and  passeth  the 
heiglite  of  the  region  of  the  fyr,  that 

1°  eschaufeth  by  the  swifte  moevinge  of 
the  firmament,  til  that  he  areyseth 
him  in-to  the  houses  that  beren  the 
sterres,  and  ioyneth  his  weyes  with 
the  Sonne    Phebus,    and  felawshipeth 

15  the  wey  of  the  olde  colde  Saturnus  ; 
and  he  y-maked  a  knight  of  the  clere 
sterre  ;  that  is  to  seyn,  that  the  thought 
is  /naked goddes  knight  by  the  sekinge 
of  trouthe    to    comen    to   the   verray 

20  knowleche  of  god.  And  thilke  thoght 
renneth  by  the  cercle  of  the  sterres, 
in  alle  places  ther-as  the  shyninge 
night  IS  peinted  ;  that  is  to  seyn,  the 
night  that  is  cloudeles  ;  for  on  nightes 

25  that  ben  cloudeles  it  semeth  as  the 
hevene  were  peinted  tvith  dyverse 
images  of  sterres.  And  whanne  he 
hath  y-doon  ther  y-nough,  he  shal 
forleten    the    laste    hevene,    and    he 

30  shal  pressen  and  wenden  on  the  bak 
of  the  swifte  firmament,  and  he  shal 
ben  maked  parfit  of  the  worshipful 
light  of  God.  Ther  halt  the  lord  of 
kinges  the   ceptre  of   his  might,  and 

35  atempreth  the  governements  of  the 
world,  and  the  shyninge  luge  of 
thinges,  stable  in  him-self,  governeth 
the  swifte  cart  or  wayn,  that  is  to 
seyn,   the    circuler    moevinge    of  the 

40  Sonne.  And  yif  thy  wey  ledeth  thee 
ayein  so  that  thou  be  brought  thider, 
thanne  wolt  thou  seye  now  that  tliat 
is    the    contree    that  thou    requercst. 


of  which  thou  ne  hadilest  no  minder 
"  but  now  it  remembreth  me  wel,  45 
heer  was  I  born,  heer  wol  I  fastne 
my  degree,  heer  wole  I  dwelle."  But 
yif  thee  lyketh  thanne  to  loken  on 
the  derknesse  of  the  erthe  that  thou 
hast  forleten,  thanne  shalt  thou  seen  50 
that  thise  felonous  tyraunts,  that  the 
wrecchede  peple  dredeth,  now  shollen 
ben  exyled  fro  thilke  fayre  contree,' 

Prose  II. 
Turn  ego,  Papae,  inquam.. 

Than  seyde  I  thus:  '  owh  !  I  won- 
dre  me  thac  thou  bihetest  me  so  grete 
thinges;  ne  I  ne  doute  nat  that  thou 
ne  mayst  wel  performe  that  thou 
bihetest.  But  I  preye  thee  only  this,  5 
that  thou  ne  tarye  nat  to  telle  me 
thilke  thinges  that  thou  hast  moeved.' 

'  First,'  quod  she,  '  thou  most  nedes 
knowen,  that  goode  folk  ben  alwey 
stronge  and  mighty,  and  the  shrewes  10 
ben  feble  and  desert  and  naked  of 
alle  strengthes.  And  of  thise  thinges, 
certes,  everich  of  hem  is  declared  and 
shewed  by  other.  For  so  as  good  and 
yvel  ben  two  contraries,  yif  so  be  that  15 
good  be  stedefast,  than  sheweth  the 
feblesse  of  yvel  al  openly;  and  yif 
thou  knowe  cleerly  the  frelenesse  of 
yvel,  the  stedefastnesse  of  good  is 
knowen.  But  for  as  moche  as  the  20 
fey  of  my  sentence  shal  be  the  more 
ferme  and  haboundaunt,  I  will  gon 
by  that  00  wey  and  by  that  other; 
and  I  wole  conferme  the  thinges  that 
ben  purposed,  now  on  this  syde  and  25 
now  on  that  syde.  Two  thinges  ther 
ben  in  whiche  the  effect  of  alle  the 
dedes  of  mankinde  standeth,  that  is 
to  seyn,  wil  and  power;  and  yif  that 
oon  of  thise  two  fayleth,  ther  nis  30 
nothing  that  may  be  don.  For  yif 
that  wil  lakketh,  ther  nis  no  wight 
that  undertaketh  to  don  that  he  wol 
nat  don;  and  yif  power  fayleth,  the 
wil  nis  but  in  ydel  and  stant  for  35 
naught.  And  ther-of  cometh  it,  that 
yif  thou  see  a  wight  that  wolde  geten 
that  he  may  nat   geten,   thou   mayst 


BOETHIUS.    BOOK  IV. 


179 


nat  clouten  that  power  ne  fayleth  him 
40  to  haven  that  he  wokle.' 

'This  is  open  and  clear,'  quod  I; 
'  ne  it  may  nat  ben  deneyed  in  no 
manere.' 

'  And  yif  thou  see  a  wight,'  quod 
45  she,  '  that  hatii  doon  that  he  wolde 
doon,  thou  nilt  nat  douten  that  he  ne 
hath  had  power  to  don  it?' 
'  No,'  quod  I. 

'  And  in  that  that  every  wight  may, 
50  in  that  men  may  holden  him  mighty; 
as  7i'/io  seytit,  in  so  moche  as  man  is 
mighty  to  Jon  a  thing,  in  so  iiiochel 
men  halt  him  mighty ;  and  in  that 
that  he  ne  may,  in  that  men  demen 
55  him  to  be  feble.' 

'  I  confesse  it  wel,'  quod  I. 
'  Remenibreth  thee,'  quod  she,  'that 
I  have  gadereil  and  shewed  by  for- 
seyde  resouns  that  al  the  entencioun 
60  of  the  vvil  of  inankinde,  which  that  is 
lad  by  dyverse  studies,  hasteth  to 
comen  to  blisfulnesse? ' 

'  It  remenibreth  me  wel,'  quod  I, 
'  that  it  hath  ben  shewed.' 
65  '  And  recordeth  thee  nat  thanne,' 
quod  she,  '  that  blisfulnesse  is  thilke 
same  good  that  men  requeren;  so 
that,  whan  that  blisfulnesse  is  re- 
quered  of  alle,  that  good  also  is  re- 
70  quered  and  desired  of  alle?' 

'It  ne  recordeth  me  nat,'  quod  I; 
'  for  I  have  it  gretly  alwey  ticched  in 
my  memorie.' 

'  Alle    folk     thanne,'     quod     she, 
75 '  goode    and    eek    badde,    enforcen 
hem   with-oute   difference    of   enten- 
cioun to  comen  to  good  ? ' 

'This    is    a   verray   consequence,' 
quod  I. 
80      '  And  certein  is,'  quod  she,  '  that 
by   the   getinge   of    good    ben   men 
y-maked  goode? ' 

'This  is  certain,'  quod  I. 
'  Thanne    geten   goode   men    that 
85  they  desiren? ' 

'  So  semeth  it,'  quod  I. 
'But  wikkede  folk,'  quod  she,   'yif 
they  geten  the  good  that  they  desiren, 
they  ne  mowe  nat  be  wikkede?' 
90      '  So  is  it,'  quod  I. 

'  Thanne,  so  as  that  oon  and  that 


other,'  quod  she,  '  desiren  good ;   and 
the  goode  folk  geten  good,  and  nat 
the  wikke  folk  ;   thanne  nis  it  no  doute 
that  the   goode  folk   ne   ben    mighty    95 
and   the  wikkede  folk   ben  feble?' 

'  Who-so  that  ever,'  quod  I,  '  dout- 
eth  of  this,  he  ne  may  nat  considere 
the  nature  of  thinges  ne  the  conse- 
quence of  resouns.'  100 

And  over  this  quod  she,  '  yif  that 
ther  be  two  thinges  that  han  00  same 
purpose  by  kinde,  and  that  oon  of 
hem  pursueth  and  parformeth  thilke 
same  thing  by  naturel  office,  and  that  105 
other  ne  may  nat  doon  thilke  naturel 
office,  but  folweth,  by  other  manere 
thanne  is  convenable  to  nature,  him 
that  acomplissheth  his  purpos  kindely, 
and  yet  he  ne  acomplissheth  nat  his  no 
owne  purpos :  whether  of  thise  two 
demestow  for  more  mighty?' 

'  Yif  that  I  coniecte,'  quod  I,  '  that 
thou  wolt  seye,  algates  yit  I  desire  to 
herkne  it  more  pleynly  of  thee.'  115 

'  Thou  wilt  nat  thanne  deneye,' 
quod  she,  '  that  the  moevement  of 
goinge  nis  in  men  by  kinde?' 

'No,  forsothe,'  quod  I. 

'  Ne  thou  ne  doutest  nat,'  quod  she,  120 
'  that  thilke  naturel  office  of  goinge 
ne  be  the  office  of  feet?  ' 

'  I  ne  doute  it  nat,'  quod  I. 

'Thanne,'  quod  she,  'yif  that  a 
wight  be  mighty  to  moeve  and  goth  125 
upon  his  feet,  and  another,  to  whom 
thilke  naturel  office  of  feet  lakketh, 
enforceth  him  to  gon  crepinge  up-on 
his  handes:  whiche  of  thise  two 
oughte  to  ben  holden  the  more  mighty  130 
by  right?' 

'  Knit  forth  the  remenaunt,'  quod 
I;    'for  no  wight  ne  doutcth  that  he 
that  may  gon  by  naturel  office  of  feet 
ne  be  more  mighty  than  he  that  ne  135 
may  nat.' 

'  But  the  soverein  good,'  quod  she, 
'  that  is  eveneliche  purposed  to  the 
gode  folk  and  to  badde,  the  gode  folk 
seken  it  by  naturel  office  of  vertues,  140 
and  the  shrewes  enforcen  hem  to 
geten  it  by  dyverse  coveityse  of  erthely 
thinges,  which  that  nis  no  naturel 
office  to  geten  thilke  same   soverein 


i8o 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


145  good.  Trowestow  that  it  may  be 
any  other  wyse  ? ' 

'  Nay,'  quod  I ;  'for  the  conse- 
quence is  open  and  shewinge  of 
thinges   that   I    have   graunted;   that 

150  nedes  gode  folk  moten  ben  mighty, 
and  shrewes  feeble  and  unniighty.' 

'  Thou  rennest  a-right  biforn  me,' 
quod  she,  '  and  this  is  the  lugement; 
thai  is  to  seyn,  I  iiigc'  of  thee  right  as 

155  thise  leches  ben  wont  to  hopen  of 
syke  folk,  whan  they  aperceyven  that 
nature  is  redressed  and  withstondeth 
to  the  maladye.  But,  for  I  see  thee 
now  al  redy  to  the  understondinge,  I 

160  shal  shewe  thee  more  thikke  and 
continuel  resouns.  For  loke  now 
how  greetly  sheweth  the  feblesse  and 
infirmitee  of  wikkede  folk,  that  ne 
mowen  nat  comen  to  that  hir  naturel 

165  entencioun  ledeth  hem,  and  yit  almost 
thilke  naturel  entencioun  constreineth 
hem.  And  what  were  to  denien 
thnnue  of  shrerves,  yif  thilke  naturel 
help  hadde  forlcten  hem,  the  which 

170  naturel  help  of  intenciotin  goth  awey 
biforn  hem,  and  is  so  greet  that  un- 
nethe  it  may  ben  overcome?  Con- 
sider thanne  how  greet  defaute  of 
power  and  how  greet  feblesse  ther  is 

175  in  wikkede  felonous  folk;  as  who 
seyth,  the  gretter  thing  that  is  coveited 
and  the  desire  nat  acomplisshed,  of 
the  lasse  might  is  he  that  coveiteth  it 
and    may    nat    acomplisshe.        And 

\%o  forthy  Philosophie  seyth  thus  by  sover- 
ein  good:  Ne  shrewes  ne  requeren 
nat  lighte  medes  ne  veyne  games, 
whiche  they  ne  may  folwen  ne  holden; 
but  they  fallen  of  thilke  somme  and 

185  of  the  heighte  of  thinges,  that  is  to 
seyn,  soverein  good ;  ne  thise  wrecches 
ne  comen  nat  to  the  effect  of  soverein 
good,  the  which  they  enforcen  hem 
only   to    geten,    by    nightes    and    by 

19J  dayes;  in  the  getinge  of  which  good 
the  strengthe  of  good  folk  is  ful  wel 
y-sene.  For  right  so  as  thou  might- 
est  demen  him  mighty  of  goinge,  that 
gooth  on  his  feet  til  he  mighte  come 

195  to  thilke  place,  fro  the  whiche  place 
ther  ne  laye  no  wey  forther  to  ben 
gon;  right  so  most  thou  nedes  demen 


him  for  right  mighty,  that  geteth  and 
ateyneth  to  the  ende  of  alle  tliinges 
that  ben  to  desire,  biyonde  the  whiche  200 
ende  ther  nis  nothing  to  desire.     Of 
the   which  power   of  good  folk   men 
may  conclude,  that  the  wikked  men 
semen   to   be   bareine   and   naked  of 
alle     strengthe.       For-why    forleten  205 
they  vertues  and  folwen  vyces?     Nis 
it   nat  for  that   they  ne  knovven  nat 
the    goodes?       But    what    thing    is 
more  felile  and  more  caitif  thanne  is 
the   blindnesse   of  ignoraunce?      Or  210 
elles    they    knowen   ful    wel    whiche 
thinges  that  they  oughten  folwe,  but 
lecherye  and  coveityse  overthroweth 
hem  mistorned;   and  certes,  so  doth 
distemperaunce  to  feble  men,  that  ne  215 
mowen  nat  wrastlen  ayeins  the  vyces. 
Ne  knowen  they  nat  thanne  wel  that 
they  forleten  the  good  wilful!)',  and 
tornen  hem  wilfully  to  vyces?     And 
in  this  wyse  they  ne  forleten  nat  only  220 
to  ben  mighty,  but  they  forleten  al- 
outrely  in  any  wyse  for  to  ben.      For 
they  that  forleten  the  comune  fyn  of    ■ 
alle   thinges   that   ben,  they   forleten 
also  ther-with-al  for  to  ben.  225 

And  per-aventure  it  sholde  semen 
to  som  folk  that  this  were  a  merveile 
to  seyen :  that  shrewes,  whiche  that 
contienen  the  more  partye  of  men, 
ne  ben  nat  ne  han  no  beinge;  but  230 
natheles,  it  is  so,  and  thus  stant  this 
thing.  For  they  that  ben  shrewes,  I 
deneye  nat  that  they  ben  shrewes; 
but  I  deneye,  and  seye  simplely  and 
pleinly,  that  they  ne  ben  nat,  ne  han  235 
no  beinge.  For  right  as  thou  might- 
est  seyen  of  the  carayne  of  a  man, 
that  it  were  a  deed  man,  but  thou  ne 
mightest  nat  simplely  callen  it  a  man; 
so  graunte  I  wel  forsothe,  that  vicious  240 
folk  ben  wikked,  but  I  ne  may  nat 
graunten  absolutly  and  simplely  that 
they  ben.  For  thilke  thing  that 
with-holdeth  ordre  and  kepeth  nature, 
thilke  thing  is  and  hath  beinge;  but  245 
what  thing  that  faileth  of  that,  tluit  is 
to  seyn,  that  he  forleteth  naturel  ordre, 
he  forleteth  thilke  thing  that  is  set  in 
his  nature.  But  thou  wolt  seyn,  that 
shrewes  mowen.     Certes,  that  ne  de-  250 


BOETIIIUS.     BrjOK    IV, 


i8i 


neve  1  nat;  but  cerlcs,  hir  power  ne 
(Icsccndcth  nat  of  strcngthe,  hut  of 
fel)lcsst.'.  For  tlicy  mowen  don  wik- 
kedncsses;  the  whiche  they  ne  mighte 
255  nat  clun,  yif  they  niighten  dwellen  in 
the  forme  and  in  the  doinge  of  good 
folk.  And  thilke  power  shcweth  ful 
evidently  that  they  ne  mowen  right 
naught.  For  so  as  I  have  gadcred 
260  and  proeved  a  litel  hcr-bifo-.-n,  that 
yvcl  is  naught;  and  so  as  shrewes 
mowen  only  but  shrewednesses,  this 
conclusioun  is  al  cleer,  that  shrewes 
ne  mowen  right  naught,  ne  han  no 
265  power. 

And  for  as  moche  as  thou  under- 
stonde  which  is  the  strengthe  of  this 
power  of  shrewes,  I  have  definisshed 
a  litel  her-biforn,  that  nothing  is  so 
270  mighty  as  soverein  good.' 
'That  is  sooth,'  quod  I. 
'  And  thilke  same   soverein   good 
may  don  non  yvel?' 
'  Certes,  no,'  quod  I. 
275      'Is  ther  any  wight  thanne,'  quod 
she,  '  that  weneth  that  men  mowen 
doon  alle  thinges?' 

'  No  man,'  quod  I,  '  but-yif  he  be 
out  of  his  witte.' 
280      '  But,  certes,  shrewes  mowen  don 
yvel,'  quod  she. 

'  Ye,  wolde  god,'  quod  I,'  that  they 
mighten  don  non  I  ' 

'  Thanne,'  quod  she,  '  so  as  he  that 
2S5  is   mighty   to   doon   only    but    goode 
thinges   may   don   alle   thinges;    and 
they   that   ben  mighty  to   don   yvele 
thinges  ne  mowen  nat  alle  thinges : 
thanne  is  it  open  thing  and  manifest, 
290  that  they  that  mowen  don  yvel  ben 
of  lasse   power.     And   yit,   to  proe7<e 
//lis  fOHilusiouii,  \.her  helpeth  me  this, 
that  I  have  y-shewed  her-biforn,  that 
alle  power  is  to  be  noumbred  among 
295  thinges   that   men    oughten    requere. 
And  I  have  shewed  that  alle  thinges, 
that  oughten  ben  desired,  ben  referred 
to  good,  right  as  to  a  maner  heighte 
of  hir  nature.     But  for  to  mowen  don 
300  yvel  and  felonye  ne  may  nat  ben  re- 
ferred to  good.     Thanne  nis  nat  yvel 
of  the  noumbir  of  thinges  that  oughte 
ben  desired.     But  alle  power  oughte 


ben  desired  and  requered.  Than  is 
it  open  and  cleer  that  the  power  ne  305 
the  mowinge  of  shrewes  nis  no  power; 
and  of  alle  thise  thinges  it  sheweth 
wel,  that  the  goode  folke  ben  cer- 
teinly  mighty,  and  the  shrewes  doute- 
les  ben  unmighty.  And  it  is  cleer  310 
and  open  that  thilke  opiiiioun  of 
I'lato  is  verray  and  soolh,  that  Sfith, 
that  only  wyse  men  may  doon  that 
they  desiren;  and  shrewes  mowen 
haunten  that  hem  lyketh,  but  that  315 
they  desiren,  t/ial  is  to  styn,  to  coinen 
to  sovereign  good,  they  ne  han  no 
power  to  acomplisshen  that.  For 
shrewes  don  that  hem  list,  whan,  liy 
tho  thinges  in  which  they  delyten,  320 
they  wenen  to  ateine  to  thilke  good 
that  they  desiren;  but  they  ne  geten 
ne  ateinen  nat  ther-to,  for  vyces  ne 
comen  nat  to  blisfulnesse. 


Metre  II. 

Qitos  uides  sedere  celsos. 

Who-so  that  the  covertoures  of  hir 
veyne  aparailes  mighte  strepen  of 
thise  proufle  kinges,  that  thou  seest 
sitten  on  heigh  in  hir  chaires  gliter- 
inge  in  shyninge  purpre,  envirouned  5 
with  sorwful  armures,  manasinge  with 
cruel  mouth,  blowinge  by  woodnesse  of 
herte,  he  shulde  seen  thanne  that  thilke 
lordes  beren  with-inne  hir  corages  ful 
streite  cheines.  For  lecherye  tor-  10 
menteth  hem  in  that  oon  syde  with 
gredy  venims;  and  troublable  ire, 
that  araiseth  in  him  the  flo<les  of  trouh- 
linges,  tormenteth  up-on  that  other 
syde  hir  thought;  or  sorwe  halt  hem  15 
wery  and  y-caught;  or  slydinge  and 
deceivinge  hope  tormenteth  hem. 
And  therfore,  sen  thou  seest  oon 
heed,  tknt  is  to  siy/i,  oon  tyaitiit, 
bercn  so  manye  tyrannyes,  thanne  ne  20 
doth  thilke  tyraunt  nat  that  he  desir- 
eth,  sin  he  is  cast  doun  with  so  manye 
wikkede  k)rdes;  thai  is  to  seyn,  with 
so  mniiye  ryces,  that  han  so  wikkedly 
lordshipes  over  him.  25 


1 82 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


Prose  III. 

Vidcsnc  igitur  quanta  in  coeno. 

Seestow  nat  thanne  in  how  grete 
filthe  thise  shrewes  ben  y-wrapped, 
and  with  which  cleernesse  thise  good 
folk  shynen?  In  this  sheweth  it  wel, 
5  that  to  goode  folk  ne  lakketh  never- 
mo  hir  medes,  ne  shrewes  lakken 
never-mo  torments.  For  of  alle 
thinges  that  ben  y-doon,  thilke  thing, 
for  which  any-thing  is  don,  it  senieth 

10  as  by  right  that  thilke  thing  be  the 
mede  of  that;  as  thus:  yif  a  man 
renneth  in  the  stadie,  or  in  the  forlong, 
for  the  corone,  thanne  lyth  the  mede 
in  the  corone  for  which  he  renneth. 

15  And  I  have  shewed  that  blisfulnesse 
is  thilke  same  good  for  which  that 
alle  thinges  ben  doon.  Thanne  is 
thilke  same  good  purposed  to  the 
workes  of  mankinde  right  as  a  com- 

20  une  mede  ;  which  mede  ne  may  ben 
dissevered  fro  good  folk.  For  no 
wight  as  by  right,  fro  thennes-forth 
that  him  lakketh  goodnesse,  ne  shal 
ben  cleped  good.     For  which  thing, 

25  folke  of  goode  maneres,  hir  medes 
ne  forsaken  hem  never-mo.  For  al- 
be-it  so  that  shrewes  wexen  as  wode 
as  hem  list  ayeins  goode  folk,  yit 
never-thedesse    the     corone  of  wyse 

30  men  shal  nat  fallen  ne  faden.  For 
foreine  shrewednesse  ne  biiiimeth 
nat  fro  the  corages  of  goode  folk  hir 
propre  honour.  But  yif  that  any 
wight  reioyse  him  of  goodnesse  that 

35  he  hadde  take  fro  with-oute  {as  who 
seith,  yif  that  any  wight  hadde  his 
goodnesse  of  any  othe?-  man  than  of 
hint-self),  certes,  he  that  yaf  him 
thilke  goodnesse,  or  elles  som  other 

40  wight,  mighte  binime  it  him.  But  for 
as  moche  as  to  every  wight  his  owne 
propre  bountee  yeveth  him  his  mede, 
thanne  at  erst  shal  be  fallen  of  mede 
whan  he  forleteth  to  ben  good.     And 

45  at  the  laste,  so  as  alle  medes  ben 
requered  for  men  wenen  that  they 
ben  goode,  who  is  he  that  wolde 
deme,  that  he  that  is  right  mighty  of 
good    were  part-les  of  mede?      And 

50  i)f  what  mede  shal  he  be  guerdoned? 


Certes,  of  right  faire  mede  and  right 
grete  aboven  all  medes.  Remembre 
thee  of  thilke  noble  corolarie  that  I 
yaf  thee  a  litel  her-biforn ;  and  gadcr  it 
to-gider  in  this  manere  :  —  so  as  good  55 
hiin-self  is  blisfulnesse,  thanne  is  it 
cleer  and  certein,  that  alle  good  folk 
ben  maked  blisful  for  they  ben  goode  ; 
and  thilke  folk  that  ben  blisful,  it 
acordeth  and  is  covenable  to  ben  60 
goddes.  Thanne  is  the  mede  of 
goode  folk  swich  that  no  day  shal 
enpeiren  it,  ne  no  wikkednesse  ne 
shal  derken  it,  ne  power  of  no  wight 
ne  shal  nat  amenusen  it,  that  is  to  65 
seyn,  to  ben  maked  goddes. 

And  sin  it  is  thus,  that  goode  men 
ne  failen  never-mo  of  hir  ?nede, 
certes,  no  wys  man  ne  may  doute  of 
undepartable  peyne  of  the  shrewes  ;  70 
that  is  to  seyn,  that  the  peyne  of 
shrewes  ne  departeth  nat  fro7ii  hem- 
self  never-mo.  For  so  as  goode  and 
yvel,  and  peyne  and  medes  ben  con- 
trarye,  it  mot  nedes  ben,  that  right  as  75 
we  seen  bityden  in  guerdoun  of 
goode,  that  also  mot  the  peyne  of 
yvel  answery,  by  the  contrarye  party, 
to  shrewes.  Now  thanne,  so  as 
bountee  and  prowesse  ben  the  mede  80 
to  goode  folk,  al-so  is  shrewednesse 
it-self  torment  to  shrewes.  Thanne, 
who-so  that  ever  is  entecched  and 
defouled  with  peyne,  he  ne  douteth 
nat,  that  he  is  entecched  and  defouled  85 
with  yvel.  Yif  shrewes  thanne  wolen 
preysen  hem-self,  may  it  semen  to 
hem  that  they  ben  with-outen  party 
of  torment,  sin  they  ben  swiche  that 
the  uttereste  wikkednesse  {that  is  to  90 
seyn,  wikkede  thewes,  which  that  is 
the  uttereste  and  the  worste  kinde  of 
shrewednesse)  ne  defouleth  ne  entec- 
cheth  nat  hem  only,  but  infecteth 
and  envenimeth  hem  gretly  ?  And  95 
also  look  on  shrewes,  that  ben  the 
contrarie  party  of  goode  men,  how 
greet  peyne  felavvshipeth  and  folweth 
hem  !  For  thou  hast  lerned  a  litel 
her-biforn,  that  al  thing  that  is  and  100 
hath  beinge  is  oon,  and  thilke  same 
oon  is  good  ;  thanne  is  this  the  con- 
sequence, that  is  semeth  wel,  that  al 


I 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


«83 


that  is  and  hath  beinge  is  good  ;  this 

105  is  to  seyn,  as  70/10  seyth,  that  iK'ini^^e 
and  unilt-e  and  goodiiesse  ts  al  ooii. 
And  in  tliis  niaiiere  it  foKvcth  thannc, 
that  al  thing  that  faileth  to  ben  good, 
it  stinteth   for  to  be  and   for  to  ban 

no  any  beinge;  wherfore  it  is,  that 
shrewes  stinten  for  to  ben  that  they 
weren.  But  thilke  other  forme  of 
niankinde,  that  is  to  seyn,  the  forme 
of  the   body   with-oute,   sheweth    yit 

115  that  thise  shrewes  weren  whylom 
men;  whcr-for,  whan  they  ben  per- 
verted and  torned  in-to  malice,  certes, 
than  han  they  forlorn  the  nature  of 
niankinde.     But   so  as  only  bi)untee 

120  and  prowesse  may  enhaunsen  every 
man  oyer  other  men  ;  thaniie  mot  it 
nedes  be  that  shrewes,  which  that 
shrewednesse  hath  cast  out  of  the 
conilicioun    of    niankinde,    ben    put 

125  under  the  nierite  and  the  desert  of 
men.  Thanne  bitydeth  it,  that  yif 
thouseesta  wight  that  be  transformed 
into  vyces,  thou  ne  niayst  nat  wene 
that  he  be  a  man. 

130  For  yif  he  be  ardaunt  in  avaryce, 
and  that  he  be  a  ravinour  by  violence 
of  foreine  richesse,  thou  shalt  seyn 
that  he  is  lyke  to  the  wolf.  And  yif 
he   be   felonous  and   with-oute  reste, 

135  and  exercyse  his  tonge  to  chydinges, 
thou  shalt  lykne  him  to  the  hound. 
And  yif  he  be  a  prevey  awaitour  y-hid, 
and  reioyseth  him  to  ravisshe  by  wyles, 
thou  shalt  seyn  him  lyke  to  the  fox- 

140  whelpes.  And  yif  he  be  distempre 
and  quaketh  for  ire,  men  shal  wene 
that  he  bereth  the  corage  of  a  lyoun. 
And  yif  he  be  dredful  and  flcinge, 
and  dredeth  thinges  that  ne  oughten 

145  nat  to  ben  dred,  men  shal  holden 
him  lyk  to  the  hert.  .And  yif  he  be 
slow  and  astoncd  and  lache,  he  liveth 
as  an  asse.  And  yif  he  be  light  and 
unstedcfast  of  corage,  and  chaungeth 

150  av  his  studies,  he  is  lykned  to  briddes. 
And  if  he  be  plounged  in  foule  and 
unclene  luxuries,  he  is  with-holden  in 
the  foule  delyces  of  the  foule  sowe. 
Thanne  folweth  it,  that  he  that  for- 

155  leteth  bountee  and  prowesse,  he  for- 
Icteth  to  ben  a  man;    sin  he  may  nat 


passen  in-lo  the  condicioun  of  god, 
he  is  torned  in-to  a  beest. 

Metre  III. 

Vela  A'eritii  dulcis. 

Eurus  the  wind  aryvede  the  sailes 
of  Ulixes,  duk  of  the  contree  of  Nar- 
ice,  and  his  wandringe  shippcs  by  the 
see,  in-to  the  ile  ther-as  Circes,  the 
fairu  gotldesse,  doughter  of  the  Sonne,  5 
dwelleth;  that  medleth  to  hir  newe 
gestes  drinkes  that  ben  touched  and 
niaked  with  enchauntenients.  And 
after  that  hir  hand,  mighty  over  the 
herbes,  hadde  chaunged  hir  gestes  10 
in-to  dy verse  maneres;  that  oon  of 
hem,  is  covered  his  face  with  forme 
of  a  boor;  that  other  is  chaunged 
in-to  a  lyoun  of  the  contree  of  Mar- 
niorike,  and  his  navies  and  his  teeth  15 
wexen;  that  other  of  hem  is  newe- 
liche  chaunged  in-to  a  wolf,  and  howl- 
eth  whan  he  wulde  wepe;  that  other 
goth  debonairely  in  the  hous  as  a  tygre 
of  Inde.  20 

But  al-be-it  so  that  the  godhed  of 
Merciirie,  that  is  cleped  the  brid  of 
Arcadie,  hath  had  mercy  of  the  duke 
Ulixes,  biseged  with  dyverse  yveles, 
and  hath  unbounden  him  fro  the  pes-  25 
tilence  of  his  ostesse,  algates  the  row- 
eres  and  the  marineres  hadden  by 
this  y-drawen  in-to  hir  mouthes  and 
dronken  the  wikkede  drinkes.  They 
that  weren  woxen  swyn  hadden  by  30 
this  y-chaunged  hir  mete  of  breed, 
for  to  eten  akornes  of  okes.  Non  of 
hir  limes  ne  dwelleth  with  hem  hole, 
but  they  han  lost  the  voice  and  the 
body;  only  hir  thought  dwelleth  with  35 
hem  stable,  that  wepeth  and  biweil- 
eth  the  monstruous  chaunginge  that 
they  suffren.  O  overlight  hand  {as 
7vho  sevth,  O !  feble  and  light  is  the 
hand  of  Circes  the  enchaunteresse,  4° 
tliat  chaungeth  the  bodyes  of  folkes 
iii-to  testes,  to  regard  and  to  coinpari- 
soiin  of  mutacioun  that  is  maked  by 
7yces)  :  ne  the  herbes  of  Circes  ne 
ben  nat  mighty.  For  al-be-it  so  that  45 
they  may  chaungen  the  limes  of  the 
boily,  algates  yit  they  may  nat  ciiaunge 


1 84 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK    IV. 


the  hertes;  for  with-inne  is  y-hid  the 
strengthe   and   vigor  of  men,  in  the 

50  secree  tour  of  hir  hertes;  that  is  to 
seyn,  the  strengthe  of  resoun.  But 
thilke  venims  of  vyces  to-drawen  a 
man  to  hem  more  mightily  thun  the 
7icnim  of  Circes;   for  vyces   hen   so 

55  cruel  that  they  percen  and  thorugh- 
passen  the  corage  with-inne;  and, 
thogh  they  ne  anoye  nat  the  body, 
yit  vyces  wooden  to  destroye  men  liy 
wounde  of  thought.' 

Prose  IV. 

Ttim  ego,  Fateor,  inqtiam. 

Than  seyde  I  thus  :  '  I  confesse  and 
am  a-knowe  it,'  quod  I;  '  ne  I  ne  see 
nat  that  men  may  sayn,  as  by  right, 
that  shrewes  ne  ben  chaunged  in-to 
5  bestes  by  the  qualitee  of  hir  soules, 
al-be-it  so  that  they  kepen  yit  the 
forme  of  the  body  of  mankinde.  Hut 
I  nolde  nat  of  shrewes,  of  which  the 
thought  cruel   woodeth    al-vvey  in-to 

10  destruccioun  of  goode  men,  that  it 
were  leveful  to  hem  to  don  that.' 

'  Certes,'  quod  she,  '  ne  is  nis  nat 
leveful  to  hem,  as  I  shal  wel  shewe 
thee  in  covenable  place;  but  natheles, 

15  yif  so  were  that  thilke  that  men  wenen 
be  leveful  to  sluevves  were  binomen 
hem,  so  that  they  ne  inighte  nat  anoyen 
or  doon  harm  to  goode  men,  certes,  a 
greet  partye  of  the  peyne  to  shrewes 

20  sholde  ben  allegged  and  releved. 
P'or  al-be-it  so  that  this  ne  seme  nat 
credible  thing,  per-aventure,  to  some 
folk,  yit  moot  it  nedes  be,  that  shrewes 
ben  more  wrecches  and  unsely  whan 

25  they  may  doon  antl  performe  that  they 
coveiten,  than  yif  they  mighte  nat 
complisshen  that  they  coveiten.  For 
yif  so  be  that  it  be  wrecchednesse  to 
wilne  to  don  yvel,  than  is  more  wrec- 

30  chednesse  to  mowen  don  yvel;  with- 
oute  whiche  mowinge  the  wrecched 
wil  sholde  languisshe  with-oute  effect. 
Than,  sin  that  everiche  of  thise 
thinges  hath  his  wrecchednesse,  that 

35  is  to  seyn,  wil  to  don  vvel  and  mav- 
inge  to  don  yvel,  it  mcjot  nedes  be  that 
they  ben  constreyned  by  three  unseli- 


nesscs,  that  wolen  and  mowen  and  per- 
formen  felonyes  and  shrewednesses.' 

'I  acorde  me,'  quod  I;  'but  I  de-    40 
sire  gretly  that  shrewes   losten   sone 
thilke  unselinesse,  that  is  to  seyn,  that 
shrewes  weren  despoyled  of  mowinge 
to  don  yvel.' 

'  So  shuUen  they,'  quod  she, 'soner,    45 
per-aventure,  than  thou    woldest;   or 
soner  than  they  hem-self  weneto  lak- 
ken  moivinge  to  don  yvel.     For  ther 
nis    no-thing    so    late   in    so    shorte 
boundes    of   this  lyf,  that   is  long  to    50 
abyde,   nameliche,   to    a    corage    im- 
mortel;    of  whiche  shrewes  the  grete 
hope,  and  the    hye  compassinges  of 
shrewednesses,  is  ofte  destroyed  by  a 
sodeyn   ende,  or  they  ben  w^;    and    55 
that  thing  estableth   to  shrewes   the 
ende  of   hir    shrewednesse.     For  yif 
that  shrewednesse  maketh  wrecches, 
than  mot  he  nedes  ben  most  wrecched 
that  lengest  isashrewe;    the  whiche    60 
wikked  shrewes  wolde  I  demen  alder- 
most   unsely  and  caitifs,  yif   that  hir 
shrewednesse    ne    were    finisshed,  at 
the  leste  wey,  by  the  outtereste  deeth. 
For    yif  I   have   concluded   sooth    of  65 
the  unselinesse  of  shrewednesse,  than 
sheweth   it  cleerly  that  thilke   wrec- 
chednesse   is    with-outen    ende,    the 
whiche  is  certein  to  ben  perdurable.' 

'  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  this  conclusioun    70 
is  hard  and  wonderful  to  graunte;  but 
I  knowe  wel  that  it  acordeth  moche 
to  the  thinges  that  I  have  graunted 
her-biforn.' 

'  Thou   hast,'  quod  she,  '  the   right    75 
estimacioun  of  this  ;   but  who-so-ever 
wene  that  it  be  a  hard  thing  to  acorde 
him  to  a  conclusioun,  it  is  right  that 
he  shewe  that  some  of  the  premisses 
ben    false;    or   elles    he  moot   shewe    80 
that  the  coUacioun  of  proposiciouns 
nis  nat  speedful  to  a  necessarie  con- 
clusioun.    And   yif  it  be  nat  so,  but 
that    the    premisses    ben  y-graunted, 
ther  is  not  why  he  sholde  blame  the    85 
argument. 

For  this  thing  that  I  shal  telle  thee 
now  ne  shal  nat  seme  lasse  wonder- 
ful ;  but  of  the  thinges  that  ben 
taken  also  it  is  necessarie  ;'  as  who  90 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


I8S 


sevt/i,  it  fohveth  of  that  ivhich  that  is 
purposed  biforn. 

'  What  is  that?'  quod  I. 
'  Certes,'  quod  she,  '  that  is,  tliat 
95  thise  wikUed  shrewes  hen  more  blis- 
ful,  or  (■ill's  lasse  ivrecLhcs,  that  abyen 
the  turinents  that  they  han  deserved, 
than  yif  no  peyne  of  lustice  ne  chas- 
tysede  hem.     Ne  this  ne  seye    I   nat 

loo  now,  for  that  any  man  niighte  thcnke, 
that  the  maners  of  shrewes  ben  co- 
rij^ed  and  chastysed  by  veniaunce, 
and  that  they  ben  brought  to  the 
right  wey   by   the  drede    of   the    tor- 

105  luent,  ne  for  that  they  yeven  to  other 
folk  ensauinple  to  Heen  fro  vyces  ; 
but  I  understande  yit  in  another  man- 
ere,  that  shrewes  ben  more  unsely 
whan  they  ne  ben  nat  punisshed,  al- 

iiobe-itso  that  ther  ne  Ije  had  no  resoun 
or  lawe  of  correccioun,  ne  non  en- 
saumple  of  lokinge.' 

'  And  what  manere  shal  that  ben,' 
quotl  I,  '  other  tlian  hath  be  told  her- 

115  biforn?  ' 

'  Have  we   nat    thanne    graunted,' 
quod  she,  '  that  goode  folk   ben  blis- 
ful,  and  shrewes  ben  wrecches?  ' 
'  Vis,'  quod  I. 

120  'Thanne,'  quod  she,  'yif  that  any 
good  were  added  to  the  wrecched- 
nesse  of  any  wight,  nis  he  nat  more 
weleful  than  he  that  ne  hath  no  med- 
linge  of  good  in    his    solitarie   wrec- 

125  chednesse?' 

'  So  seineth  it,'  quod  I. 
'  And  what  seystow  thanne,'  quod 
she, 'of  thilke  wrecche  that   lakketh 
alle  goodes,  so  that  no  good  nis  med- 

130  led  in  his  wrecchednesse,  and  yit,  over 
al  his  wikkednesse  for  which  he  is  a 
wrecche,  that  ther  be  yit  another  yvel 
anexerl  and  knit  to  him,  shal  nat  men 
demen  him  more   unsely  than   thilke 

135  wrecche  of  whiche  the  unselinesse  is 
releved  by  the  participacioun  of  som 
good  ? ' 

'Why  sholde  he  nat?'  quod  1. 
'Thanne,  certes,'   quod    she,   'han 

140  shrewes,  whan  they  ben  punisshed, 
som-what  of  good  anexed  to  hir 
wreccliednesse,  that  is  to  seyn,  the 
same  peyne  that  they  suffren,  which 


that  is  good  by  the  resoun  of  lustice; 
and    whan    thilke    same    shrewes   as- 145 
capen    with-oute    torment,   than    han 
they  som-what  more  of  yvel  yit  over 
the    wikkednesse  that   they  han  don, 
that   is   to   seyn,    defaute    of    peyne; 
which    defaute    of   peyne,  thou    hast  150 
graunted,  is   yvel    for  the   deserte   of 
felonye.'     '  1   ne   may   nal  denye   it,' 
quod     I.        '  Moche    more     thanne,' 
quod  she,  'ben  shrewes  unsely,  whan 
they    ben    wrongfully    delivered     fro  155 
peyne,  than  whan  they  ben  punisshed 
by   rightful   veniaunce.       But   this   is 
open  thing  and  cleer,  that  it  is  right 
that  shrewes  ben  punisshed,  and  it  is 
wikkednesse    and    wrong    that    they  160 
escapen  unpunisshed.' 

'  Who  mighte  deneyethat?'  quod  I. 

'  But,'    quod   she,    '  may    any   man 
denye  that  al  that  is  right  nis  good; 
and  also  the  contrarie,  that  al  that  is  165 
wrong  is  vvikke? ' 

'  Certes,'  quod  I, '  these  thinges  ben 
clere  y-nough;  and  that  we  han  con- 
cluded a  litel  her-biforn.  But  I  praye 
thee  that  thou  telle  me,  yif  thou  acord-  1 70 
est  to  leten  no  torment  to  sowles, 
after  that  the  body  is  ended  by  the 
deeth;'  this  is  to  seyn,  nnderstand- 
esto7v  aught  that  soxoles  han  any  tor- 
ment after  the  deeth    of  the  body  ?  175 

'Certes,'  quod  she,  'ye;  and  that 
right  greet;  of  which  sowles,'  quod 
she,  '  I  trowe  that  some  ben  tor- 
mented by  asprenesse  of  peyne;  and 
some  sowles,  I  trowe,  ben  exercised  180 
by  a  purginge  mekenesse.  But  my 
conseil  nis  nat  to  determinye  of  thise 
peynes.  But  I  have  travailed  and 
t(jld  yit  hiderto,  for  thou  sholdest 
knowe  that  the  mowinge  of  shrewes,  1S5 
which  mowinge  thee  semeth  to  ben 
unworthy,  nis  no  mowinge  :  and  eek 
of  shrewes,  of  which  thou  pleinedest 
tliat  they  ne  were  nat  punisshed,  that 
thou  woldest  seen  that  they  ne  weren  igo 
never-mo  with-outen  the  torments  of 
hir  wikkednesse  :  and  of  the  licence 
of  the  mo'ivinge  to  don  yvel,  that  thou 
preydest  that  it  mighte  sone  ben 
encled,  and  that  thou  woldest  fayn  J95 
lernen    that   it    ne    sholde   nat   longe 


1 86 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK    IV. 


dure  :  and  that  shrewes  ben  more 
unsely  vif  they  were  of  lenger  dur- 
inge,  and  most  unsely  yif  they  weren 

200  perdurable.  And  after  this,  I  have 
shewed  thee  that  more  unsely  ben 
shrewes,  whan  they  escapen  with- 
oute  hir  rightful  peyne,  than  whan 
they  ben  punisshed  by   rightful   ven- 

205  iaunce.  And  of  this  sentence  folweth 
it,  that  thanne  ben  shrewes  con- 
streined  at  the  laste  with  most  gre- 
vous  torment,  whan  men  wene  that 
they  ne  be  nat  punisshed.' 

210  '  Whan  I  consider  thy  resouns,' 
quod  I,  '  I  ne  trowe  nat  that  men 
seyn  any-thing  more  verayly.  And 
yif  I  tome  ayein  to  the  studies  of 
men,  who  is  he  to  whom  it  sholde 

215  seme  that  he  ne  sholde  nat  only  leven 
thise  thinges,  but  eek  gladly  herkne 
hem? ' 

'Certes,'   quod  she,  'so  it  is;   but 
men  may  nat.     For  they  han  hir  eyen 

220  so  wont  to  the  derknesse  of  erthely 
thinges,  that  they  ne  may  nat  liften 
hem  up  to  the  light  of  cleer  sothfast- 
nesse;  but  they  ben  lyke  to  briddes, 
of  which  the  night  lightneth  hir  lok- 

225  inge,  and  the  day  blindeth  hem. 
For  whan  men  loken  nat  the  ordre 
of  thinges,  but  hir  lustes  and  talents, 
they  wene  that  either  the  leve  or  the 
mowinge  to  don  wikkednesse,  or  elles 

230  the  scapinge  with-oute  peyne,  be 
weleful.  But  consider  the  lugement 
of  the  perdurable  lawe.  For  yif  thou 
conferme  thy  corage  to  the  beste 
thinges,  thou  ne  hast  no  nede  of  no 

235  luge  to  yeven  thee  prys  or  mede; 
for  thou  hast  ioyned  thy-self  to  the 
most  excellent  thing.  And  yif  thou 
have  enclyned  thy  studies  to  the 
wikked  thinges,  ne  seek  no  foreyne 

:4o  wreker  out  of  thy-self;  for  thou  thy- 
self hast  thrist  thy-self  in-to  wikke 
thinges  :  right  as  thou  mightest  loken 
by  dyverse  tymes  the  foule  erthe  and 
the  hevene,  and  that  alle  other  thinges 

2)5  stinten  fro  with-oute,  so  that  thou  nere 
neither  in  hevene  ne  in  erthe,  ne  saye 
no-thing  more ;  than  it  sholde  semen 
to  tliee,  as  by  only  resoun  of  lokinge, 
that  thou  were  now  in  the  sterres  and 


now  in  the  erthe.     But  the  poeple  ne  250 
loketh  nat    on  thise  thinges.     What 
thanne?      Shal  we  thanne  aprochen 
us  to  hem  that  I  have  shewed  that 
they  ben  lyk  to  bestes?     And  what 
woltow  seyn  of  this :  yif  that  a  man  255 
hadde  al  forlorn  his  sighte  and  hadde 
foryeten    that    he    ever    saugh,   and 
wende  that  no-thing  ne  faylede  him 
of  perfeccioun  of  mankinde,  now  we 
that  mighten  seen  the  same  thinges,  260 
wolde    we    nat   wene    that    he    were 
blinde?     Ne  also  ne  acordeth  nat  the 
poeple  to  that  I  shal  seyn,  the  which 
thing  is  sustened  by  a  stronge  founde- 
ment  of  resouns,  that  is  to  seyn,  that  265 
more  unsely  ben  they  that  don  wrong 
to  othre  folk  than  they  that  the  wrong 
suffren.' 

'  I  wolde  heren  thilke  same  re- 
souns,' quod  I.  270 

'  Dertyestow,'  quod  she,  '  that  alle 
shrewes  ne  ben  worthy  to  han  tor- 
ment? ' 

'  Nay,'  quod  I. 

'But,'  quod  she,  '  I  am  certein,  by 275 
many     resouns,    that     shrewes    ben 
unsely.' 

'  It  acordeth,'  quod  I. 

'Thanne  ne  doutestow  nat,'  quod 
she,  'that  thilke  folk  that  ben  worthy 280 
of  torment,  that  they  ne  ben  wrec- 
ches? ' 

'  It  acordeth  wel,'  quod  I. 

'  Yif  thou  were  thanne,'  quod  she, 
'  y-set  a  luge  or  a  knower  of  thinges,  285 
whether,  trowestow,  that  men  sholden 
tormenten  him  that  hath  don  the 
wrong,  or  elles  him  that  hath  suffred 
the  wrong?' 

'  I  ne  doute  nat,'  quod  I,  '  that  1 290 
nolde  don  suffisaunt  satisfaccioun  to 
him  that  hadde  suffred  the  wrong  by 
the  sorwe  of  him  that  hadde  don  the 
wrong.' 

'Thanne  semeth  it,'  quod  she, '  that  295 
the  doere  of  wrong  is  more  wrecche 
than  he  that  suffred  wrong?  ' 

'  That  folweth  wel,'  quod  I. 

'Than,'  quod  she,  '  by  these  causes 
and  by  othre  causes  that  ben  enforced  300 
by  the  same  rote,  filthe  or  sinne,  by 
the  propre  nature  of  it,  maketh  men 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


187 


vvrecclics;  atul  it  shcwcth  wel,  that 
tlic  wiont!;  that  men  iloii  iiis  iiat  the 

305  \vrecche<hicsse  of  him  tliat  receyveth 
the  wroiii^,  Imt  the  wrecchethiesse  of 
him  that  ch>tli  the  wron<;.  But  certes,' 
quod  she,  'thise  oratours  or  advocats 
don   al   the  contrarye;    for  they   en- 

310  forcen  hem  to  conimoeve  the  luges 
to  han  pitee  of  hem  that  han  suffred 
and  receyved  the  thinges  that  ben 
grcvous  and  aspre,  and  yit  men 
sholden  more  rightfully  lian  pitee  of 

315  hem  that  don  the  grevaunces  and 
the  wronges;  the  whiche  shrevves,  it 
were  a  more  covenable  thing,  that 
the  accusours  or  advocats,  nat  wroth 
but  pitous  and  debonair,  ledden  tho 

320  shrewes  that  han  don  wrong  to  the 
lugcmcnt,  right  as  men  leden  syke 
folii  to  the  leche,  for  that  they  sholde 
seken  out  the  maladycs  of  sinne  by 
torment.       And    by    this    covenaunt, 

325  either  the  entente  of  deffendours  or 
advocats  sholde  faylen  and  cesen  in 
al,  or  elles,  yif  the  office  of  advocats 
wolde  bettre  profiten  to  men,  it  sholde 
ben  torned  in-to  the  habite  of  accusa- 

330  cioun ;  that  is  to  scyn,  they  sholden 
accuse  shrewes,  and  nat  excuse  hem. 
And  eek  the  shrewes  hem-self,  yif  hit 
were  leveful  to  hem  to  seen  at  any 
clifte  the  vertu  that  they  han  forleten, 

335  and  sawen  that  they  sholden  putten 
adoun  the  filthes  of  hir  vyces,  by  the 
torments  of  peynes,  they  ne  oughte 
nat,  right  for  the  recompensacioun 
for  to  geten  hem  bduntee  and  prow- 

340  esse  which  that  they  han  lost,  demen 
ne  holden  that  thilke  peynes  weren 
torments  to  hem;  and  eek  they 
wolden  refuse  the  attendaunce  of  hir 
advocats,  and   taken  hem-self  to  hir 

343  luges  and  to  hir  accusors.  Por  which 
it  bitydeth  that,  as  to  the  wyse  folk, 
ther  nis  no  place  y-leten  to  hate; 
that  is  to  seyn,  that  tie  hate  hath  no 
place   ainonges   wyse    men.     For    no 

350  wight  nil  haten  goode  men,  but-yif 
he  were  over-mochel  a  fool;  and  for 
to  haten  shrewes,  it  nis  no  resoun. 
For  right  so  as  languissinge  is  mala- 
dye  of  l)ody,  right  so  ben  vyces  and 

355  sinne  maladye  of  corage.     And  so  as 


we  ne  deme  nat, that  theythat  ben  syke 
of  hir  body  l)cn  wortliy  to  ben  hated, 
but  rather  worthy  of  pitee :  wel  more 
worthy,  nat  to  ben  hated,  but  for  to 
ben  had  in  pitee,  ben  they  of  whiche  360 
the  thoughtes  ben  constreined  by 
felonous  wikkednesse,  that  is  more 
cruel  than  any  languissinge  of  body. 

Metre  IV. 
Quid  tantos  imiat  excitare  motus. 

What  delyteth  you  to  excyten  so 
grete  mocvinges  of  hateredes,  and  to 
hasten  and  bisien  the  fatal  disposi- 
cioun  of  your  deeth  with  your  jjropre 
handes?  that  is  to  seyn,  by  batailes  or  5 
l>y  contek.  For  yif  ye  axen  the  deeth, 
it  hasteth  him  of  his  ovvne  wil;  ne 
deeth  ne  taricth  nat  his  swifte  hors. 
And  the  men  that  the  serpent  and 
the  lyoun  and  the  tygre  and  the  here  10 
and  the  boor  seken  to  sleen  with 
hir  teeth,  yit  thilke  same  men  seken 
to  sleen  everich  of  hem  other  with 
swerd.  Lo  !  for  hir  maneres  ben  dy- 
verse  and  descordaunt,  they  moeven  15 
unrightful  ostesand  cruel  batailes,  and 
wilnen  to  perisshe  by  entrechaung- 
inge  of  dartes.  But  the  resoun  of 
crueltee  nis  nat  y-nough  rightful. 

Wiltow    thanne    yelden   a  covena-    20 
ble  guerdon  to  the  desertes  of  men? 
Love  rightfully  goode  folk,  and  have 
pitee  on  shrewes.' 

Prose  V. 

I/ic  ego  uideo  inquam. 

'Thus  see  I  wel,'  quod  I,  'either 
what  blisfulnesse  or  elles  what  unseli- 
nesse  is  establisshed  in  the  desertes 
of  goode  men  and  of  shrewes.  But 
in  this  ilke  fortune  of  poeple  I  see  5 
somwhat  of  good  and  somewhat 
of  yvel.  For  no  wyse  man  hath 
lever  ben  exyled,  poore  and  nedy, 
and  nameles,  than  for  to  dwellen 
in  his  citee  and  flouren  of  rich-  10 
esses,  and  be  redoutable  by  honour, 
and  strong  of  po\\'er.  Yox  in  this 
wyse  more  cleerly  and  more  witnes- 
fully  is  the  office  of  wyse  men  y-treted. 


1 88 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK    IV. 


15  whan  the  blisfulnesse  and  the  poustee 
of  governuurs  is,  as  it  were,  y-shad 
amonges  poeples  that  be  neighebours 
and  siibgits ;  sin  that,  namely,  pris- 
oun,  lawe,  and    thise  othre  torments 

20  of  laweful  peynes  ben  rather  owed 
to  felonous  citezeins,  for  the  whiche 
felonous  citezeins  tho  peynes  ben 
estabUsshed,  than  for  good  folk. 
Thanne  I  mervaile  me  greetiy,'  quod 

25  I,  '  why  that  the  thinges  ben  so  mis 
entrechaunged,  that  torments  of  fel- 
onyes  pressen  and  confounden  goode 
folk,  and  shrewes  ravisshen  medes  of 
vertu,   and  hen    in  honours  and  in 

■ip  gret  estats.  And  I  desyre  eek  for  to 
witen  of  thee,  what  semeth  thee  to 
ben  the  resoun  of  this  so  wrongful  a 
conclusioun?  For  I  wolde  wondre 
wel  the  lasse,  yif  I  trowede  that  al 

35  thise  thinges  weren  medled  by  for- 
tunous  happe;  but  now  hepeth  and 
encreseth  myn  astonyinge  god,  gov- 
ernour  of  thinges, 'that,  so  as  god 
yeveth  ofte  tymes  to  gode  men  godes 

40  and  mirthes,  and  to  shrewes  yveles 
and  aspre  thinges:  and  yeveth  ayein- 
ward  to  gode  folk  hardnesses,  and  to 
shrewes  he  graunteth  hem  hir  wil 
and  that  they  desyren :    what  differ- 

45  ence  thanne  may  ther  be  bitwixen 
that  that  god  doth,  and  the  happe  of 
fortune,  yif  men  ne  knowe  nat  the 
cause  why  that  it  is?  ' 

'  Ne  it  nis  no   mervaile,'  quod  she, 

50  '  though  that  men  wenen  that  ther  be 
somewhat  folissh  and  confuse,  whan 
the  resoun  of  the  ordre  is  unknowe. 
But  al-though  that  thou  ne  knowe  nat 
the  cause  of  so  greet  a  disposicioun, 

55  natheles,  for  as  moche  as  god,  the 
gode  governour,  atempreth  and  gov- 
erneth  the  world,  ne  doute  thee  nat 
that  alle  thinges  ben  doon  a-right. 

Metre  V, 

Si  quis  Arduri  sidera  nescit. 

Who-so    that   ne   knowe   nat    the 

sterres  of  Arcture,  y-torned  neigh  to 

the  soverein  contree  or  point,  that  is 

to  seyn,  y-torned  neigh  to  the  soverein 

5  pool  of  the  firmament,  and   wot  nat 


why  the  sterre  Bootes  passeth  or  gad- 
ereth  his  weynes,  and  drencheth  his 
late  flambes  in  the  see,  and  why  that 
Botes  the  sterre  unfoldeth  his  over- 
swifte  arysinges,  thanne  shal  he  won-  10 
dren  of  the  lawe  of  the  heye  eyr. 

Aitd  eek,  yif  that  he  ne  knowe  nat 
why  that  the  homes  of  the  fulle  mone 
wexen  pale  and  infect  by  the  boundes 
of  the  derke  night ;  and  lioiv  the  mone,  15 
derk  and  confuse,  discovereth  the 
sterrs  that  she  hadde  y-covered  by 
hir  clere  visage.  The  comune  errour 
moeveth  folk,  and  maketh  wery  hir 
basins  of  bras  by  thikke  strokes;  that  20 
is  to  seyn,  that  ther  is  a  maner  of 
poeple  that  highte  Coribantes,  that 
wenen  that,  whan  the  mone  is  in  the 
eclipse,  that  it  be  enchaunted;  and 
ther  fore,  for  to  rescowe  the  mone,  25 
they  beten  hir  basins  with  thikke 
strokes. 

Ne  no  rnan  ne  wondreth  whan  the 
blastes  of  the  wind  Chorus  beten  the 
strondes  of  the  see  by  quakinge  flodes;  30 
ne  no  man  ne  wondreth  whan  the 
weighte  of  the  snowe,  y-harded  by 
the  colde,  is  resolved  by  the  brenninge 
hete  of  Phebus  the  Sonne;  for  heer 
seen  men  redely  the  causes.  35 

But  the  causes  y-hid,  that  is  to  seyn, 
in  hevene,  troublen  the  brestes  of  men; 
the  moevable  poeple  is  astoned  of  alle 
thinges  that  comen  selde  and  sodeinly 
in  our  age.  But  yif  the  troubly  errour  40 
of  our  ignoraunce  dcpartede  fro  us, 
so  that  7ve  wisten  the  causes  why  that 
swiche  thinges  bi-tyden,  certes,  they 
sholden  cese  to  seme  wondres.' 

Prose  VI. 
Ita  est,  inquam. 

'Thus  is  it,'  quod  I.  'But  so  as 
thou  hast  yeven  or  bi-hight  me  to  un- 
wrappen  the  hid  causes  of  things,  and 
to  discovere  me  the  resouns  covered 
with  derknesses,  I  prey  thee  that  thou  5 
devyse  and  luge  me  of  this  matere, 
and  that  thou  do  me  to  understonden 
it;  for  this  miracle  or  this  wonder 
troubleth  me  right  gretly.' 

And  thanne  she,  a  litel  what  smyl-    10 


I 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK    IV. 


189 


in^o,  scyde  :  '  tliou  clepest  nie,'  quod 
slu',  'to  telle  thing  that  is  grcttcst  of 
alle  thingijs  that  iiiowen  ben  axed,  and 
to  the  whiche  <iuestioun  unnetiies  is 

15  ther  aught  y-nough  to  laveii  it;  as 
who  scyth,  uiiuethes  is  ther  suffisaunllv 
anything  to  answer,-  parjitly  to  thy 
qitrstionn.  For  the  mateie  of  it  is 
swichjthat  whan  o  doute  is  determined 

20  and  cut  awey,  ther  wexen  other  doutcs 
with-oute  number;  right  as  the 
hevedes  wexen  of  Ydre,  the  serpent 
that  Ercules  slmoh.  Ne  ther  ne  were 
no  7iianere  ne  non  ende,  but-yif  that 

25  a  wight  constreinede  tho  doutes  by  a 
right  lytly  and  (]uik  fyr  t>f  thought; 
that  is  to  seyn,  by  vigour  and  strengthe 
of  wit.  For  in  this  manere  men 
weren  wont  to  maken  questions  of  the 

30  simplicitee  of  the  purviaunce  of  god, 
anil  of  the  order  of  destinee,  and  of 
sodein  happe,  and  of  the  knowinge 
and  predestinacioun  divyne,  and  of 
the  libertee  of  free  wille;    the  whiche 

35  thinges  thou  thy-self  aperceyvest  wel, 
of  what  weight  they  ben.  But  for  as 
mochel  as  the  knowinge  of  thise 
thinges  is  a  nianer  porcioun  of  the 
medicine  of  thee,  al-be-it  so   that   I 

40  have  litel  tyme  to  don  it,  yit  natheles 
I  wol  enforcen  me  to  shewe  somwhat 
of  it.  But  al-thogh  the  norisshinges 
of  ditee  of  musike  delyteth  thee,  thou 
most  suffren  and  forberen   a  litel   of 

45  thilke  delyte,  whyle  that  1  weve  to 
thee  resouns  y-knit  by  odre.' 

'As  it  lyketh  to  thee,'  quod  I,  'so 
do.'  Tho  spak  she  right  as  by  an- 
other   biginninge,    and    seyde     thus. 

50 'The  engendringe  of  alle  thinges,' 
quod  she,  'ami  alle  the  progressiouns 
of  muable  nature,  and  al  that  moev- 
eth  in  any  manere,  taketh  his  causes, 
his  ordre,  and  his  formes,  of  the  sta- 

55  blenesse  of  the  divyne  thoght;  and 
thilke  divyne  thought,  that  is  y-set 
and  init  in  the  tour,  that  is  to  seyn,  in 
the  heighte,  of  the  simplicitee  of  god, 
stablisshcth    many    maner    gyses    to 

60  thinges  that  ben  to  done;  the  whiche 
maner,  whan  that  men  loken  it  in 
thilke  j)ure  clennesse  of  the  divyne 
intelligence,  it  is  y-cleped  purviaunce; 


but  whan  thilke  maner  is  referred  by 
men  to  thinges  that  it  moveth  and  65 
disponeth,  thanne  of  olde  men  it  was 
cleped  destinee.  The  whiche  thinges, 
yif  that  any  wight  loketh  wel  in  his 
thought  the  strengthe  of  that  oon 
and  of  that  other,  he  shal  lightly  70 
mowen  seen,  that  thise  two  thinges 
ben  dyverse.  For  purviaunce  is 
thilke  divyne  reson  that  is  estal)lisshed 
in  the  soverein  prince  of  thinges;  the 
whiche  purviaunce  disponeth  alle  75 
thinges.  But  destinee  is  the  disposi- 
cioun  and  ordinaunce  clyvinge  to 
moevable  thinges,  by  the  whiche  dis- 
posicioun  the  purviaunce  knitteth  alle 
thinges  in  hir  ordres;  for  purviaunce  So 
embraceth  alle  thinges  to-hepe,  al- 
thogh  that  they  ben  dyverse,  and  al- 
thogh  they  ben  infmite;  but  destinee 
departeth  and  ordeineth  alle  thinges 
singulerly,  and  divyded  in  moevinges,  85 
in  places,  in  formes,  in  tymes,  as  thus  : 
lat  the  unfoldinge  oi  temporel  ordi- 
naunce, assembled  and  ooned  in  the 
lokinge  of  the  divyne  thought,  be 
cleped  purviaunce;  and  thilke  same  90 
assembliiige  and  ooninge,  divyded 
and  unfolden  by  tymes,  lat  that  ben 
called  destinee.  And  al-be-it  so  that 
thise  thinges  ben  dyverse,  yit  natheles 
hangeth  that  oon  on  that  other;  for-  95 
why  the  order  destinal  procedeth  of  the 
simplicitee  of  purviaunce.  For  right 
as  a  werkman,  that  aperceyveth  in  his 
thoght  the  forme  of  the  thing  that  he 
wol  make,  and  moeveth  the  effect  of  100 
the  werk,  and  ledeth  that  he  hadde 
loked  biforn  in  his  thoght  simply  and 
presently,  by  temporel  ordinaunce : 
certes,  right  so  god  disponeth  in  his 
purviaunce,  singulerly  and  stably,  the  105 
thinges  that  ben  to  done,  but  he 
aministreth  in  many  maneres  and  in 
dyverse  tymes,  h\  destinee,  thilke  same 
thinges  that  he  hath  disponed. 

Thanne,  whether  that  destinee  be  110 
exercysed  outher  by  some  divyne 
spirits,  servaunts  to  the  divyne  pur- 
viaunce, or  elles  by  som  sowle,  or 
elles  by  alle  nature  servinge  to  god, 
or  elles  by  the  celestial  moevinges  of  115 
sterres,  or  elles  by  the  vertu  of  angeles, 


190 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


or  elles  by  the  dyverse  subtilitee  of 
develes,  or  tiles  by  any  of  hem,  or 
elles   by  hem  alle,  the   destinal  ordi- 

120  naunce  is  y-\voven  and  acomplisshed. 
Certes,  it  is  open  thing,  that  the  pur- 
viaunce  is  an  unmoevable  and  simple 
forme  of  thinges  to  done;  and  the 
moveable  bond  and  the  temporel  or- 

125  (linaunce  of  thinges,  whirhe  that  the 
divyne  simplicitee  of  purviaunce 
hath  ordeyned  to  done,  that  is  des- 
tinee.  For  which  it  is,  that  alle  thinges 
that    ben    put    under    destinee    ben, 

130  certes,  subgits  to  purviaunce,  to 
whiche  purviaunce  destinee  itself  is 
subgit  and  under.  But  some  thinges 
ben  put  under  purviaunce,  that  sur- 
mounten  the  ordinaunce  of  destinee; 

135  and  tho  ben  thilke  that  stably  ben 
y-ticched  negh  to  the  firste  godhed  : 
they  surmounten  the  ordre  of  destinal 
moevabletee.  For  right  as  of  cercles 
that  tornen  a-boute  a  same  centre  or 

140  a-boute  a  poynt,  thilke  cercle  that  is 
innerest  or  most  with-inne  ioyneth  to 
the  simplesse  of  the  middel,  and  is,  as 
it  were,  a  centre  or  a  poynt  to  that 
other    cercles    that    tornen    a-bouten 

145  him;  and  thilke  that  is  outterest, 
compassed  by  larger  envyronninge,  is 
unfolden  by  larger  spaces,  in  so  moche 
as  it  is  forth  est  fro  the  middel  sim- 
plicitee of  the  poynt;  and  yif  ther  be 

i5oany-thing  that  knitteth  and  felaw- 
shippeth  him-self  to  thilke  middel 
poynt,  it  is  constreined  in-to  sim- 
plicitee, that  is  to  seyn,  in-to  unmoeva- 
bletee,  and  it  ceseth  to  be  shad  and 

155  to  fleten  dyversely :  right  so,  by  sem- 
blable  resoun,  thilke  thing  that  de- 
parteth  forthest  fro  the  first  thoght  of 
god,  it  is  unfolden  and  summitted  to 
gretter  bondes  of  destinee  :   and  in  so 

160  inoche  is  the  thing  more  free  and  laus 
fro  destinee,  as  it  axeth  and  holdeth 
him  ner  to  thilke  centre  of  thinges, 
tliat  is  to  seyn,  god.  And  yif  the 
thing  clyveth  to  the  stedefastnesse  of 

165  the  thoght  of  god,  and  be  with-oute 
moevinge,  certes,  it  sormounteth  the 
necessitee  of  destinee.  Thanne  right 
swich  comparisoun  as  it  is  of  skilinge 
to  understondinge,  and  of  thing  that 


is  engendred  to  thing  that  is,  and  of  170 
tyme  to  eternitee,  and  of  the  cercle  to 
the  centre,  right   so   is   the   ordre   of 
moevable  destinee  to  the  stable  sim- 
plicitee of  purviaunce. 

Thilke    ordinaunce     moeveth     the  175 
hevene  and  the  sterres,  and  atempreth 
the  elements  to-gider  amonges  hem- 
self,  and  transformeth  hem  by  entre- 
chaungeable  mutacioun;    and  thilke 
same  ordre  neweth  ayein  alle  thinges  180 
growinge     and    fallinge    a-doun,    by 
semblable  progressiouns  of  sedes  and 
of  sexes,   that  is  to  seyn,   male   and 
feniele.      And    this    ilke    ordre    con- 
streineth  the  fortunes  and  the  dedesi85 
of  men  by  a  bond  of  causes,  nat  able 
to  ben  unbounde;    the  whiche  desti- 
nal causes,  whan  they  passen  out  fro 
the  biginninges   of    the   unmoevable 
purviaunce,  it  mot  nedes  be  that  they  190 
ne  be  nat  mutable.     And  thus  ben  the 
thinges   ful  wel  y-governed,  yif  that 
the  simplicitee  dwellinge  in  the  divyne 
thoght    sheweth    forth  the    ordre    of 
causes,  unable  to  ben  y-bowed ;   and  195 
this  ordre  constreineth  by  his  propre 
stabletee    the    moevable    thinges,    or 
elles  they  sholden  fleten  folily.     For 
which  it  is,  that  alle  thinges  semen  to 
ben  confus  and  trouble  to  us  men,  for  200 
we   ne  mowen   nat   considere   thilke 
ordinaunce;      natheles,    the     propre 
maner    of    every    thinge,    dressinge 
hem   to  goode,   disponeth  hem   alle. 

For  ther  nis  no-thing  don  for  cause  205 
of  yvel;    ne  thilke  thing  that  is  dim 
by  wikkede  folk  nis  nat  don  for  yvel. 
The  whiche  shrewes,  as  I  have  shewed 
ful  plentivously,  seken  good,  but  vvik- 
ked    errour  mistorneth  hem,   ne    the  210 
ordre  cominge  fro  the  poynt  of  sov- 
erein  good  ne  declyneth  nat  fro  his 
biginninge.       But   thou    mayst    seyn, 
what  unreste  may  ben  a  worse  confu- 
sioun  than  that  gode  men  han  S(3m-2i5 
tyme   adversitee   and  somtyme  pros- 
peritee,  and    shrewes   also    now  han 
thinges  that   they  desiren,  and   now 
thinges  that   they   haten?      Whether 
men    liven    now   in   swich    hoolnesse22o 
of   thoght,    {^as  who   seyth,   hen   men 
now  so  wyse),  that  svviche  folk  as  they 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


191 


demen  to  hen  gode  folk  or  shrewes, 
that  it  moste  ncties  hen  that  folk  hen 

225  swiche  as  they  wenen?  But  in  this 
nianere  the  domes  of  men  discorden, 
that  tliilke  men  that  some  folk  demen 
worthy  of  niede,  other  folk  demen 
hem  worthy  of  torment.     But  lat   us 

230  graunte,  1  pose  that  som  man  may 
wel  demen  or  knowen  the  gode  folk 
and  the  badde;  may  he  thanne 
knowen  and  seen  thilke  innereste 
atempraunce  of  corages,   as   it   hath 

235  ben  wont  to  be  seyd  of  bodies;  as 
who  seytli,  may  a  man  sj>t'ken  and 
delerminen  of  a/emprauuces  in  cor- 
agi's,  as  men  u>crf  ivont  to  demen  or 
speken    of  complexiouns   and    a/em- 

240  pratinces  of  bodies  ?  Ne  it  ne  is  nat 
an  unlyk  miracle,  to  hem  that  ne 
knowen  it  nat,  i^as  who  seiih,  hut  it  is 
lyke  a  merveil  or  a  miracle  to  hem  that 
ne  knowen  it  nat),   why  that  swete 

245  thinges  ben  covenable  to  some  bodies 
that  hen  hole,  and  to  some  bodies  bit- 
tere  thinges  ben  covenable;  and  also, 
why  that  some  syke  folk  ben  holpen 
with  lighte  medicynes,  and  some  folk 

250  ben  holpen  with  sharpe  medicynes. 
But  natheles,  the  leche  that  knoweth 
the  manere  and  the  atempraunce  of 
hele  and  of  maladye,  ne  merveileth 
of  it  no-thing.     But  what  other  thing 

255  semeth  hele  of  corages  but  bountee 
and  prowesse?  And  what  other 
thing  semeth  maladye  of  corages  but 
vyces?  Who  is  elles  kepere  of  good 
or   dryver    awey   of    yvel,    but    god, 

260  governour  and  lecher  of  thoughtes? 
The  whiche  god,  whan  he  hath  bi- 
holden  from  the  heye  tour  of  his 
])urveaunce,  he  knoweth  what  is 
covenable  to  every  wight,  and  leneth 

265  hem  that  he  wot  that  is  covenable  to 
hem.  Lo,  her-of  comth  and  her-of 
is  don  this  noble  miracle  of  the  ordre 
destinat,  whan  god,  that  al  knoweth, 
doth  swiche    thing,    of   which    thing 

270  that  unknowiiige  folk  l>en  astoned. 
But  for  to  constreine,  as  -oho  seyth, 
hut  for  to  coniprehende  and  telle  a 
fewe  thinges  of  the  divyne  deepnesse, 
the  whiche  that  mannes  resoun  may 

275  understonde,    thilke    man   that    thou 


wenest  to  ben  right  luste  and  right 

kepinge  of  etiuitee,  the  contrarie  of 
that  semeth  to  the  divyne  purveaunce, 
that  al  wot.  And  Lucan,  my  familer, 
telleth  that  "  the  victorious  cause  280 
lykede  to  the  goddes,  and  the  cause 
overcomen  lykede  to  Catoun." 
Thanne,  what-so-ever  thou  mayst 
seen  that  is  don  in  this  werld  unho])ed 
or  unwened,  certes,  it  is  the  right  2.S5 
ordre  of  thinges;  but,  as  to  thy  wik- 
kede  opinioun,  it  is  a  confusioun. 
But  I  suppose  that  som  man  be  so 
wel  y-thewed,  that  the  divyne  luge- 
ment  and  the  lugement  of  mankinde  290 
acordcn  hem  to-gider  of  him;  hut  he 
is  so  unstedefast  of  corage,  that,  yif 
any  adversitee  come  to  liim,  he  wol 
forleten,  par-aventure,  to  continue 
innocence,  by  the  whiche  he  ne  may  295 
nat  w-ith-ht)lden  fortune.  Thanne  the 
wyse  dispensacioun  of  god  spareth 
him,  the  wliiche  man  adversitee 
mighte  enpeyren;  for  that  god  wol 
nat  suffren  him  to  travaile,  to  whom  300 
that  travaile  nis  nat  covenable.  An- 
other man  is  parfit  in  alle  vertues,  and 
is  an  holy  man,  and  negh  to  god,  so 
that  the  purviaunce  of  god  wolde 
demen,  that  it  were  a  felonye  that  he  305 
were  touched  with  any  advcrsitees; 
so  that  he  wol  nat  suftre  that  swich  a 
man  be  moeved  with  any  bodily  mal- 
adye. But  so  as  seyde  a  philosophre, 
the  more  excellent  by  me  :  he  seyde  in  310 
Grek,  that  "  vertues  han  edilied  the 
body  of  the  holy  man."  And  ofte 
tyme  it  bitydeth,  that  the  sonnne  of 
thinges  that  ben  to  done  is  taken  to 
governe  to  gode  folk,  for  that  the  315 
malice  haboundaunt  of  shrewes  sholde 
ben  abated.  And  god  yeveth  and 
departeth  to  othre  folk  prosperitees 
and  adversitees  y-medled  to-hepe,  af- 
ter the  (pialitee  of  hir  corages,  and  320 
remordeth  som  folk  by  adversitee,  for 
they  ne  sholde  nat  wexen  prouiie  by 
longe  welefulnesse.  And  otlier  fi>lk 
he  suffreth  to  ben  travailed  with  harde 
thinges,  for  that  they  sholdcn  con- 325 
fermen  the  vertues  of  corage  by  the 
usage  and  exercitacioun  of  pacience. 
And    other    fold    tlreden   more   than 


192 


BOETHIUS.    BOOK  IV. 


they    oughten    [that]     whiche    they 

330  mighten  wel  lieren;  and  somme  dis- 
pyse  that  they  mowe  nat  beren;  and 
thilke  folk  god  ledeth  in-to  experi- 
ence of  himself  by  aspre  and  sorvvful 
thinges.      And  many  othre   folk   han 

335  bought  honourable  renoun  of  this 
world  by  the  prys  of  glorious  deeth. 
And  som  men,  that  ne  mowen  nat 
ben  overcomen  by  torments,  have 
yeven  ensaumple  to  othre  folk,  that 

340  vertu  may  nat  ben  overcomen  by 
adversitees;  and  of  alle  thinges  ther 
nis  no  doute,  that  they  ne  ben  don 
rightfully  and  ordenely,  to  the  profit 
of  hem  to  whom  we  seen  thise  thinges 

345  bityde.  For  certes,  that  adversitee 
comth  somtyme  to  shrewes,  and  som- 
tyme  that  that  they  desiren,  it  comth 
of  thise  forseide  causes.  And  of 
sorwful  thinges  that  hityden  to  shrewes, 

350  certes,  no  man  ne  wondreth;  for  alle 
men  wenen  that  they  han  wel  de- 
served it,  and  that  they  ben  of  wik- 
kede  merite;  of  whiche  shrewes  the 
torment    somtyme   agasteth   othre  to 

355  don  felonyes,  and  somtyme  it  amend- 
eth  hem  that  suffren  the  torments. 
And  the  prosperitee  that  is  yeven  to 
shrewes  sheweth  a  greet  argument  to 
gode    folk,  what    thing    they    sholde 

360  demen  of  thilke  welefulnesse,  the 
whiche  prosperitee  men  seen  ofte 
serven  to  shrewes.  In  the  which 
thing  I  trovve  that  god  dispenseth; 
for,  per-aventure,  the  nature  of  som 

365  man  is  so  overthrowinge  to  yvel,  and 
so  uncovenable,  that  the  nedy  pov- 
ertee  of  his  houshold  mighte  rather 
egren  him  to  don  felonyes.  And  to 
the    maladye    of    him    god    putteth 

370  remedie,  to  yeven  him  richesses. 
And  som  other  man  biholdeth  his 
conscience  defouled  with  sinnes,  and 
maketh  comparisoun  of  his  fortune 
and  of  him-self;    and   dredeth,  per- 

375  aventure,  that  his  blisfulnesse,  of 
which  the  usage  is  loyeful  to  him, 
that  the  lesinge  of  thilke  blisfulnesse 
ne  be  nat  sorwful  to  him ;  and  ther- 
for  he  wol  chaunge  his  maneres,  and, 

380  for  he  dredeth  to  lese  his  fortune,  he 
forleteth  his  wikkednesse.     To  othre 


folk  is  welefulnesse  y-yeven  unworth- 
ily, the  whiche  overthroweth  hem  in- 
to distruccioun  that  they  han  deserved. 
And  to  som  (Hhre  folk  is  yeven  385 
power  to  punisshen,  for  that  it  shal 
be  cause  of  loiitiiiuacioutt  and  exer- 
cysinge  to  gode  folk  and  cause  of 
torment  to  shrewes.  For  so  as  ther 
nis  non  alyaunce  by-twixe  gode  folk  390 
and  shrewes,  ne  shrewes  ne  mowen 
nat  acorden  amonges  hem-self.  And 
why  nat?  For  shrewes  discorden  of 
hem-self  by  hir  vyces,  the  whiche 
vyces  al  to-renden  hir  consciences;  395 
and  don  ofte  tyme  thinges,  the  whiche 
thinges,  whan  they  han  don  hem, 
they  demen  that  tho  thinges  ne 
sholden  nat  han  ben  don.  For  which 
thing  thilke  soverein  purveaunce  hath  400 
maked  ofte  tyme  fair  miracle;  so  that 
shrewes  han  maked  shrewes  to  ben 
gode  men.  For  whan  that  som 
shrewes  seen  that  they  suffren  wrong- 
fully felonyes  of  othre  shrewes,  they  405 
wexen  eschaufed  in-to  hate  of  hem 
that  anoyeden  hem,  and  retornen  to 
the  frut  of  vertu,  whan  they  studien 
to  ben  unlyk  to  hem  that  they  han 
hated.  Certes,  only  this  is  the  divyne  410 
might,  to  the  whiche  might  yveles 
ben  thanne  gode,  whan  it  useth  tho 
yveles  covenahly,  and  draweth  out  the 
effect  of  any  gode;  as  tvho  seyth,  that 
yvel  is  good  only  to  the  might  of  god,  415 
for  the  might  of  god  ordeyneth  thilke 
yvel  to  good. 

For  oon  ordre  embraseth  alle 
thinges,  so  that  what  wight  that  de- 
parteth  fro  the  resoun  of  thilke  ordre  420 
which  that  is  assigned  to  him,  algates 
yit  he  slydeth  in-to  another  ordre,  so 
that  no-thing  nis  leveful  to  folye  in 
the  reame  of  the  divyne  purviaunce; 
as  who  seyth,  tiothing  nis  7vith-outen^2t^ 
ordinatince  in  the  rea/ne  of  the  divyne 
purviaunce ;  sin  that  the  right  stronge 
god  governeth  alle  thinges  in  this 
world.  For  it  nis  nat  leveful  to  man 
to  comprehenden  by  wit,  ne  unfolden43o 
by  word,  alle  the  subtil  ordinaunces 
and  disposiciouns  of  the  divyne  en- 
tente. For  only  it  oughtc  siiffise  to 
han  loked,  that  god  him-self,  maker 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


193 


435  of  alle  natures,  ordeineth  and  dresseth 
alle  thinges  to  gode;  whyl  that  he 
hasteth  to  with-holden  the  thinges 
that  he  hath  maked  in-to  his  sem- 
blaunce,  thui  is  to  seyn,  for  to  with- 

440  holden  thinges  in-to  good,  for  he 
hiin-self  is  good,  he  chaseth  out  al 
yvel  fro  the  boundes  of  his  conmnali- 
tee  by  the  ordre  of  necessitee  destin- 
able.     For  which  it  folwcth,  that  yif 

445  thou  loke  the  purviaunce  ordeininge 
the  thinges  that  men  wenen  ben  out- 
rageous or  haboundant  in  erthes, 
thou  ne  shalt  nat  seen  in  no  place 
no-thing  of  yvel.      But  I  see  now  that 

450  thou  art  charged  with  the  weighte  of 
the  questioun,  and  wery  with  the 
lengthe  of  my  resoun;  and  that  thou 
abydest  som  sweetnesse  of  songe. 
Tak  thanne  this  draught;    and  whan 

455  thou  art  wel  refresshed  and  refect, 
thou  shal  be  more  stedefast  to  stye 
in-to  heyere  questiouns. 

Metre  VI. 

Si  uis  celsi  iura  tonantis. 

If  thou,  wys,  wilt  demen  in  thy 
pure  thought  the  rightes  or  the  lawes 
of  the  heye  thonderer,  that  is  to 
seyn,  of  god,  loke  thou  and  bihold 
5  the  heightes  of  the  soverein  hevene. 
There  kepen  the  sterres,  by  rightful 
alliaunce  of  thinges,  hir  olde  pees. 
The  Sonne,  y-moeved  by  his  rody  fyr, 
ne  distorbeth  nat  the  colde  cercle  of 

10  the  mone.  Ne  the  sterre  y-cleped 
"  the  Bere,"  that  enclyneth  his  rav- 
isshinge  courses  abouten  the  soverein 
heighte  of  the  worlde,  ne  the  same 
stere  Ursa  nis  never-nio  wasshen  in 

15  the  depe  westrene  see,  ne  ct>veiteth 
nat  to  deyen  his  flaumbes  in  the  see 
of  the  occian,  al-thogh  he  see  othre 
sterres  y-plounged  in  the  see.  And 
Hesperus  the  sterre  bodeth  and  telleth 

20  aUvey  the  late  nightes;  and  Lucifer 
the  sterre  bringeth  ayein  the  clere 
day. 

And     thus     niaketh     Love    entre- 
chaungeable  the  perdurable  courses; 

25  and  thus  is  discordable  bataile  y-put 
out    of    the    contree    of   tlie    sterres. 


This  acordaunce  atempreth  by  evene- 
lyk  maneres  the  elements,  that  the 
nioiste  thinges,  stryvinge  with  the 
drye  thinges,  yeven  place  by  stoundes;  30 
and  the  cokle  thinges  ioynen  hem  by 
feyth  to  the  bote  tlungcs;  and  that 
the  lighte  fyr  aryseth  in-to  heighte; 
and  the  hevy  erthes  avalen  by  hir 
weightes.  By  thise  same  causes  tlie  35 
floury  yeer  yildeth  swote  smelles  in 
the  firste  sonier-scsoun  w  arminge ;  and 
the  bote  somer  dryeth  the  comes; 
and  autunipne  comth  ayein,  hevy  of 
apples;  and  the  fietinge  reyn  bide-  40 
weth  the  winter.  This  atempraunce 
norissheth  and  bringeth  forth  al 
thing  that  bretheth  lyf  in  this  world; 
and  thilke  same  atempraunce,  rav- 
isshinge,  hydeth  and  binimeth,  and  45 
drencheth  under  the  laste  deeth,  alle 
thinges  y-born. 

Amonges  thise  thinges  sitteth  the 
heye  maker,  king  and  lord,  welle  and 
biginninge,  lawe  and  wys  luge,  to  50 
don  equitee;  and  governeth  and  en- 
clyneth the  brydles  of  thinges.  And 
tho  thinges  that  he  stereth  to  gon  by 
moevinge,  he  withdraweth  and  arest- 
eth;  and  affermeth  the  moevable  or  55 
wandringe  thinges.  For  yif  that  he 
ne  clepede  ayein  the  right  goinge  of 
thinges,  and  yif  that  he  ne  con- 
streinede  hem  nat  eft-sones  in-to 
roundnesses  enclynede,  the  thinges  60 
that  ben  now  continued  by  stable 
ordinaunce,  they  sholden  departen 
from  hir  wcllc,  that  is  to  seyn,  from 
hir  biginninge,  and  faylen,  that  is  to 
seyn,  tome  in-to  nought.  f'j 

This  is  the  comune  Love  to  alle 
thinges;  and  alle  thinges  axen  to  ben 
holden  by  the  fyn  of  good.  For  elles 
ne  mighten  they  nat  lasten,  yif  they 
ne  come  nat  eft-sones  ayein,  by  Love  7° 
retorned,  to  the  cause  that  hath  yeven 
hem  beinge,  that  is  to  seyn,  to  god. 

Pkose  VII. 

la  nine  igitur  tddes. 

Seestow  nat  thanne  what  thing  fol- 
weth  alle  the  thinges  that  I  have  seyd  ?  ' 
Boece.    '  What  thing?  '  quod  I. 


194 


BOETHIUS.    BOOK  IV. 


•  Certes,'  quod  she,  '  al-outrely,  that 
5  alle  fortune  is  good.' 

'  And  how  may  that  be?  '  quod  I. 

'  Now  understand,'    quod  she,  '  so 

as  alle  fortune,  whether  so  it  be  loye- 

ful  fortune  or  aspre  fortune,  is  yeven 

lo  either  by  cause  of  guerdoning  or  elles 

of  exercysinge  of  good  folk,  or  elles  by 

cause  to  punisshen  or  elles  chastysen 

shrewes;    thanne  is  alle  fcjrtune  good, 

the  whiche  fortune  is  certein  that  it 

15  be  either  rightful  or  elles  profitable.' 

'  Forsothe,  this  is  a  ful  verray  re- 

soun,'    quod    I;    'and   yif  I  consider 

the  purviaunce  and  the  destinee  that 

thou  taughtest  me  a  litel  her-biforn, 

20  this  sentence  is  sustened  by  stedefast 

resouns.     But  yif  it  lyke  unto   thee, 

lat  us  noumbren  hem  amonges  thilke 

thinges,    of   whiche    thou    seydest    a 

litel  her-biforn,  that  they  ne  were  nat 

25  able  to  ben   wened    to    the    poeple.' 

'  Why  so? '  quod  she. 

'  For    that    the   comune  word    of 

men,'   quod   I, 'misuseth  this  7naner 

speclie  of  fortune,  and  seyn  ofte  tymes 

30  that    the    fortune    of    som    wight    is 

wikkede.' 

'  Wiltow  thanne,'  quod  she,  'that  I 
aproche  a  litel  to  the   wordes  of  the 
poeple,  so  that  it  seme   nat  to  hem 
35  that  I  be  overmoche  departed  as  fro 
the  usage  of  mankinde?  ' 
'  As  thou  wolt,'  quod  I. 
'  Demestow   nat,'    quod   she,  '  that 
al  thing  that  profiteth  is  good?  ' 
40      '  Yis,'  quod  I. 

'And  certes,  thilke  thing  that  ex- 
ercyseth  or  corigeth,  profiteth?' 
'  I  confesse  it  wel,'  quod  I. 
'Thanne  is  it  good?'  quod  she. 
45      '  Why  nat?  '  quod  I. 

'  But  this  is  the  fortune,'  quod  she, 
'of  hem  that  either  ben  put  in  vertii 
and  batailen  ayeins  aspre  thinges,  or 
elles  of  hem  that  eschuen  and  de- 
50  clynen  fro  vyces  and  taken  the  wey 
of  vertu.' 

'This  ne  may  I  nat  denye,'  quod  I. 

'  But    what    seystow    of   the    rnery 

fortune  that  is  yeven  to  good  folk  in 

55  guerdnun?    Demeth  aught  the  poeple 

that  it  is  wikked?  ' 


'Nay,  forsothe,'  quod  I;  'but  they 
demen,  as  it  sooth  is,  that  it  is  right 
good.' 

'  And   what   seystow  of  that  other   60 
fortune,'    quod   she,    '  that,    al-thogh 
that  it  be  aspre,  and  restreineth  the 
shrewes  by  rightful  torment,  weneth 
aught  the  poeple  that  it  be  good?' 

'  Nay,'    quod    I,    '  but    the    poeple    65 
demeth  that  it   is  most  wrecched  of 
alle  thinges  that  may  ben  thought.' 

'  War  now,  and  loke  wel,'  quod  she, 
'  lest  that  we,  in  folwinge  the  opin- 
ioun  of  the   poeple,   have   confessed    ^o 
and  concluded  thing  tliat  is  unaVjle 
to  be  wened  to  the  poeple? 

'  What  is  that?'  quod  I. 

'Certes,'  quod  she,  'it  folweth  or 
comth  of  thinges  that  ben  graunted,  75 
that  alle  fortune,  what-so-ever  it  be, 
of  hem  that  ben  either  in  possessioun 
of  vertu,  or  in  the  encres  of  vertu,  or 
elles  in  the  purchasinge  of  vertu,  that 
thilke  fortune  is  good  ;  and  that  alle  80 
fortune  is  right  wikkede  to  hem  that 
dwellen  in  shrewednesse;  '  as  who 
st'Vth,  and  thus  -weneth  nat  the  poeple. 

'  That  is  sooth,'  quod  I,  '  al-be-it  so 
that  no  man  dar  confesse  it  ne  bi-   85 
knovven  it.' 

'Why  so?'  quod  she;  'for  right 
as  the  stronge  man  ne  semeth  nat  to 
abaissen  or  disdaignen  as  ofte  tyme 
as  he  hereth  the  noise  of  the  bataile,  90 
ne  also  it  ne  semeth  nat,  to  the  wyse 
man,  to  beren  it  grevously,  as  ofte  as 
he  is  lad  in-to  the  stryf  of  fortune. 
For  bothe  to  that  oon  man  and  eek 
to  that  other  thilke  difficultee  is  the  95 
matere;  to  that  oon  man,  of  encres 
of  his  glorious  renoun,  and  to  that 
other  man,  to  conforme  his  sapience, 
that  is  to  seyn,  to  the  asprenesse  of 
his  estat.  For  therfore  is  it  called  100 
"  vertu,"  for  that  it  susteneth  and 
enforseth,  by  hise  strengthes,  that  it 
nis  nat  overcomen  by  adversitees. 
Ne  certes,  thou  that  art  jiut  in  the 
encres  or  in  the  heighte  of  vertu,  ne  105 
hast  nat  comen  to  fleten  with  delices, 
and  for  to  welken  in  bodily  luste; 
thou  sowest  or  plauiitest  a  ful  egre 
liataile    in    thy    cor  age   ayeins    every 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   IV. 


195 


1 10  fortune:  for  that  the  sorwful  fortune 
ne  confounde  thee  nat,  ne  that  the 
merye  fortune  ne  corunipe  thee  nat, 
occupye  the  mene  by  stedefast 
strengthes.     For  al  that  ever  is  under 

"5  the  mene,  or  elles  al  that  overpasseth 
the  mene,  despyseth  welefuhiesse  {as 
who  seyth,  it  is  vicious),  and  ne  hath 
no  mede  of  his  travaile.  For  it  is  set 
in  your  hand   {as  xuho  seyth,  it  lyth 

120 /■«  your  power)  what  fortune  yovv  is 
Icvest.  ///(//  is  to  seyn,  good  or  yvel. 
For  ailc  fortune  that  semeth  sliarp  or 
asprc,  yif  it  ne  exercyse  nat  the  gode 
folk  ne  chastyseth  the  wikked  folk,  it 

123  punissheth. 


Metre  VII, 

Bella  bis  quinis  operatus  annis. 

The  wreker  Attrides,  that  is  to  seyn, 
Aganieuon,  that  wroughte  and  con- 
tinuede  the  batailes  by  ten  yeer,  re- 
covered and  purgede  in  wrekinge,  by 
5  the  dcstruccioun  of  Troye,  the  loste 
chaumbres  of  mariage  of  his  brother; 
this  is  to  seyn,  that  he,  Agamenon, 
wan  ayein  Eleyne,  that  was  Mene- 
laus  wyf  his  brother.     In    the   mene 

10  whyle  that  thilke  Agamenon  desirede 
to  yeven  sayles  to  the  Grekissh 
navye,  and  boughte  ayein  the  windes 
by  blood,  he  unclothede  him  of  pitee 
of  fader;  and  the  sory  preest  yiveth 

15  in  sacrifyinge  the  vvrecched  cuttinge 
of  throte  of  the  doughter;  that  is  to 
seyn,  that  Agamenon  let  cutten  the 
throte  of  his  doughter  by  the  preest, 
to  tnaken  allyaiince  -with  his  goddes, 

20  and  for  to  han  winde  with  ivhiche  he 
mighte  wenden  to  7'roye. 

Itacus,  that  is  to  seyn  Ulixes, 
l)i\vepte  his  felawes  y-lorn,  the 
whiciie  felawes  the  ferse  Poliphemus, 

25  ligginge  in  his  grete  cave,  hadde 
freten  and  dreynt  in  his  empty 
wombe.  But  natheles  Poliphemus, 
wood  for  his  blinde  visage,  yald  to 
Ulixes     loye    by    his    sorwful    teres; 

30  this  is  to  seyn,  that   L'li.xes  snioot  out 


the  eye  of  Poliphemus  that  stood  in 
his  forehed,  for  which  Ulixes  hadde 
loye,  whan  he  say  Poliphemus  wep- 
inge  and  blinde. 

Hercules     is    celebrable     for     his    35 
harde    travailes;     he    dauntede    the 
proude    Centaures,    half  hors,    half 
man  ;  and  he  birafte  the  dispoylinge 
fro  the  cruel  lyoun,  that  is  to  seyn,  he 
slo7vh   the   lyoun    and  rafte  him  his   40 
5^?';/.     He    smoot    the    briddes    that 
highten   Arpyes    with    certein    arwes. 
He  ravissheiie  apples  fro  the  wakinge 
dragoun,  and  his  hand  was  the    more 
hevy    for    the    goldene    metal.     He   45 
drow  Cerberus,  the  hound  of  helle,  by 
his  treble  cheyne.     He,  overcomer,  as 
it  is  seyd,  hath  put   an  unmeke   lord 
foddre  to  his   cruel  hors;    this  is   to 
seyn,  that  Hercules  slo'a>h  Diomedes,    50 
and  made  his  hors  to  freten  him.    And 
he,  Hercules,  slowh  Ydra  the  serpent, 
and  brende  the  venim.     And  Ache- 
lous  the  flood,  defouled  in  his  forhed, 
dreynte  his  shamefast  visage   in   his    55 
strondes;  this  is  to  seyn,that  Achelous 
coudc  transfigure    himself  in-to  dy- 
verse   lyknesses;   and,    as    he    faught 
with  Hercules,  at  the  laste  he  tornede 
him  in-to  a  bole;   and  Hercules  brak  60 
of  oon    of  his   homes,    a?td  he,  for 
shame,  hidde  him  in  his  river.     And 
he,    Hercules,   caste  adoun    Antheus 
the  gyaunt  in  the  strondes  of  Libie; 
and  Cacus  apaysede  the  wratthes  of  65 
Evander;  this  is  to  seyn,  that  Hercu- 
les  slozvh    the     monstre    Cacus,    and 
apaysede  -with  that  deeth  the  wratthe 
of  Evander.     And  the  bristlede  boor 
markede  with  scomes  the  shuldres  of  70 
Hercules,    the   whiche    shuldres  the 
heye  cercle  of  hevene  sholde  thriste. 
And  the  laste  of  his  labours  was,  that 
he    sustened    the   hevene    up-on    his 
nekke   unbowed;    and   he  deservede    75 
eft-sones  the  hevene,  to  ben  the  prys 
of  his  laste  travaile. 

Goth  now  thanne,  ye  stronge  men, 
ther-as  the  heye  wey  of  the  grete 
ensauiniile  ledeth  yow.  O  nyce  men,  80 
why  nake  ye  youre  bakkes?  .is 
loho  seyth  :  O  ye  sloice  and  delicat 
men,  why  flee  ye  adversitc^-.s,  and  ne 


196 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V. 


fighien  nat  ayeins  hem  by   vertu,   to 

85  ivinnen  the  mede  of  the  hevene  ?     For 

the    erthe,   overcommen,  yeveth  the 


sterres';  litis  is  to  scyii,  that,  whan 
that  erthely  lust  is  overcomen,  a  man 
is  maked  ^uorthy  to  the  hevene. 


BOOK  V. 


Prose  I. 

Dixerat,  oraiionicque  cursum. 

She  hadde  seyd,  and  torned  the 
cours  of  hir  resoun  to  some  othre 
thinges  to  ben  treted  and  to  ben 
y-sped.  Thanne  seyde  I,  '  Certes, 
5  rightful  is  thyn  amonestinge  and  ful 
digne  by  auctoritee.  But  that  thou 
seidest  whyloni,  that  the  questioun 
of  the  divyne  purviaunce  is  enlaced 
with  many  other  questiouns,  I  under- 

10  stonde  wel  and  proeve  it  by  the  same 
thing.  But  I  axe  yif  that  thouwenest 
that  hap  be  any  thing,  in  any  weys; 
and,  yif  thou  wenest  that  hap  be 
anything,  what  is  it?' 

15  Thanne  quod  she,  'I  haste  me  to 
yilden  and  assoilen  to  thee  the  dette 
of  my  bihest,  and  to  shewen  and 
opnen  the  wey,  by  which  wey  thou 
mayst    come    ayein    to   thy    contree. 

20  But  al-be-it  so  that  the  thinges  which 
that  thou  axest  ben  right  profitable 
to  knowe,  yit  ben  they  diverse  som- 
what  fro  the  path  of  my  purpos;  and 
it  is  to  douten  that  thou  ne  be  maked 

25  wery  by  mis-weyes,  so  that  thou  ne 
mayst  nat  suffyce  to  mesuren  the 
right  wey.' 

'  Ne  doute  thee  ther-of  nothing,' 
quod  I.     '  For,  for  to  knowen  thilke 

30  thinges  to-gedere,  in  the  whiche 
thinges  I  delyte  me  greetly,  that  shal 
ben  to  me  in  stede  of  reste;  sin  it  is 
nat  to  douten  of  the  tliinges  folwinge, 
whan  every  syde  of  thy  disputacioun 

35  shal  han  be  stedefast  to  me  by  un- 
doutous  feith.' 

Thanne  seyde  she,  '  That  manere 
wol  I  don  thee  ';  and  bigan  to  speken 
right  thus.     '  Certes,'  quod  she,  '  yif 

40  any  wight  diffinisshe  hap  in  this 
manere,  that  is  to  seyn,  that  "  hap  is 
bitydinge  y-brought  forth  by  foolish 
moevinge    and    by    no    luiettinge    of 


causes,"  I  conferme  that  hap  nis  right 
naught  in  no  wyse;  and  I  deme  al-  45 
outrely  that  hap  nis,  ne  dwelleth  but 
a  voice,  as  zvho  seith,  but  an  ydel 
word,  with-outen  any  significacioun 
of  thing  submitted  to  that  vois.  For 
what  place  mighte  ben  left,  or  dwell-  50 
inge,  to  folye  and  to  disordenaunce, 
sin  that  god  ledeth  and  constreineth 
alle  thinges  by  ordre?  For  this  sen- 
tence is  verray  and  sooth,  that  "  noth- 
ing ne  hath  his  beinge  of  naught";  55 
to  the  whiche  sentence  none  of  thise 
olde  folk  ne  withseyde  never;  al-be- 
it  so  that  they  ne  understoden  ne 
meneden  it  naught  by  god,  prince 
and  beginnere  of  werkinge,  but  they  60 
casten  [it]  as  a  manere  foundement 
of  subiect  material,  that  is  to  seyn, 
of  the  nature  of  alle  resoun.  And 
yif  that  any  thing  is  woxen  or  comen 
of  no  causes,  than  shal  it  seme  that  65 
thilke  thing  is  comen  or  woxen  of 
naught;  but  yif  this  ne  may  nat  ben 
don,  thanne  is  it  nat  possible,  that 
hap  be  any  swich  thing  as  I  have 
difiinisshed  a  litel  heer-biforn.'  70 

'How  shal  it  thanne  be?'  quod  I. 
'Nis  ther  thanne  no-thing  that  by 
right  may  be  cleped  either  "  hap  "  or 
elles  "  aventure  of  fortune";  or  is 
ther  aught,  al-be-it  so  that  it  is  hid  75 
fro  the  peple,  to  which  these  wordes 
ben  covenable? ' 

'  Myn    Aristotulis,'    quod    she,    '  in 
the  book  of  his  Phisik,  diffinissheth 
this  thing  by  short  resoun,  and  neigh   80 
to  the  sothe.' 

'In  which  manere?'  quod  I. 

'  As  ofte,'  quod  she,  '  as  men  doon 
any  thing  for  grace  of  any  other 
thing,  and  an-other  thing  than  thilke  85 
thing  that  men  entenden  to  don 
t)itydeth  l)y  some  causes,  it  is  cleped 
"  hap."  Right  as  a  man  dalf  the 
erthe  by  cause  of  tilyinge  of  the  feeld. 


BOETIIIUS.     BOOK   V. 


197 


90  and  founde  ther  a  gobct  of  gold 
bidulvcn,  thannc  vvencn  l\)lk  tlial  it  is 
bifallc  by  fortuiious  Ijitydinge.  Hut, 
for  sothe,  it  iiis  nat  of  naught,  for  it 
hath  his  propre  causes;  of  whiche 
95  causes  the  cours  unforeseyn  and  unwar 
semeth  to  han  niaked  hap.  For  yif 
the  tilyere  of  the  feld  ne  dolve  nat  in 
the  erthe,  ami  yif  the  hytler  of  the 
gold  ne  hadde  hid  the  gold  in   thilke 

100  place,  the  gold  ne  hadde  nat  been 
iounde.  Tiiise  ben  tlianne  the  causes 
of  the  abregginge  of  fortuit  hap,  the 
which  abregginge  of  fortuit  hap  comth 
of  causes  encountringe  and  tlovvinge 

105  to-gidere  to  hem-self,  and  nat  by  the 
entencioun  of  the  doer.  For  neither 
the  hyder  of  the  gold  ne  the  delver 
of  the  feeld  ne  understoden  nat  that 
the  gold  sholde  han  ben  founde;    but, 

no  as  I  sayde,  it  bitidde  and  ran  to- 
gidere  that  he  dalf  ther-as  that  other 
hadde  hid  the  gold.  Now  may  I 
thus  diffinisshe  "  hap."  Hap  is  an 
unwar  bitydinge  of  causes  assembled 

115  in  thinges  that  ben  don  for  som  other 
thing.  But  thilke  ordre,  procedinge 
by  an  uneschuable  bindinge  to-gidere, 
which  that  descendeth  fro  the  welle 
of    purviaunce    that    ordeineth    alle 

120  thinges  in  hir  places  and  in  hir  tymes, 
maketh  that  the  causes  rennen  and 
assemblen  to-gidere. 

Metre  I. 

Rupis  Achemenie  scopulis,  uhi  uersa 
sequentuin. 

Tigris  and  Eufrates  resolven  and 
springen  of  00  welle,  in  the  cragges 
of  the  roche  of  the  contree  of  Ache- 
menie, ther-as  the  fleinge  bataile 
5  hccheth  hir  dartes,  retorned  in  the 
brestes  of  hem  that  folwen  hem. 
And  sone  after  tho  same  riveres, 
Tigris  and  Eufrates,  unioinen  and 
departen  hir  wateres.  And  yif  they 
10  comen  to-gideres,  and  ben  assembled 
and  cleped  to-gidere  into  o  cours, 
thanne  moten  thilke  thinges  ileten 
to-gidere  which  that  the  water  of  the 
entrechaunginge  flood  bringeth.    The 


shippes  and  the  stokkes  arraced  with    15 
the     Hood     moten     assenii)lcn;      and 
the    wateres    y-medled    wrappeth    or 
implyetii    many    fortunel     happes    or 
nianeres;       the     whiche     wandringe 
happes,    natheles,    thilke    declyninge    20 
lownesse  of  the  erthe  and  the  (low- 
inge  ordre  of  the  slydinge  water  gov- 
erneth.         Right     so     Fortune,     that 
semeth   as  that  it   fletrth  with  slaked 
or    ungovernede    brydles,   it  suffereth    25 
brydles,  that  is  to  scyii,  to  he  governed, 
and  passeth  by  thilke  lawe,  tliat  is  to 
seyn,  by  thilke  liivyne  oidcnauncei' 

Prose  II. 
Aniniaduerto,  inquatn. 

'  This  understonde  I  wel,'  quod  I, 
'and  I  acorde  wel  that  it  is  right  as 
thou  seyst.  But  I  axe  yif  ther  be  any 
libertee  of  free  wil  in  this  ordre  of 
causes  that  clyven  thus  to-gidere  in  5 
hem-self;  or  elles  I  wolde  vviten  yif 
that  the  destinal  cheyne  constrein- 
eth  the  movinges  of  the  corages  of 
men? ' 

'  Yis,'    quod  she;   'ther   is  libertee    10 
of  free  wil.     Ne  ther  ne  was  nevere 
no  nature  of  resoun  that  it  ne  hadde 
libertee  of  free  wil.      For  every  thing 
that    may    naturely   usen    resoun,    it 
hath    doom    by    which    it    decerneth    15 
and    demeth     every    thing;     thanne 
knoweth    it,   by   it-self,    thinges    that 
ben  to  fleen  and  thinges  that  ben  to 
desiren.     And  thilke  thing  that  any 
wight   demeth    to    ben   desired,   that    20 
axeth    or    desireth    he;     and    fleeth 
thilke  thing  that  ho  troweth  ben  to 
fleen.     Wherfore  in  alle  thinges  that 
resoun  is,  in  hem  also  is  libertee  of 
willinge   and   of   nillinge.     But   I    ne    25 
ordeyne    nat,    as    who    seyth,    I    ue 
grnunte    nat,    that    this    libertee    be 
evene-lyk    in    alle    thinges.     Forwhy 
in  the  sovereines  devynes  sulistaunces, 
that  is  to  sey/i,  in  spirits,  lugement  is    30 
more  cleer,  and  wil  nat  y-corumped, 
and    might    redy   to    speden    thinges 
that  ben  desired.     But  the  soules  of 
men  moten  nedes  be  more  free  whan 


198 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK  V, 


35  they  loken  hem  in  the  speculacioun 
or  lokinge  of  the  devyne  thought,  and 
lasse  free  whan  they  slyden  in-to  the 
bodies;  and  yit  lasse  free  whan  they 
ben    gadered  to-gidere  and  compre- 

40  bended  in  erthely  membres.  But  the 
laste  servage  is  whan  that  they  ben 
yeven  to  vyces,  and  ban  y-falle  from  the 
possessioun  of  hir  propre  resoun.  For 
after  that  they  han  cast  awey  hir  eyen 

45  fro  the  bght  of  the  sovereyn  soothfast- 
nesse  to  lowe  thinges  and  derke,  anon 
they  derken  by  the  cloude  of  igno- 
raunce  and  ben  troubled  by  felonous 
talents;    to  the  whiche  talents  whan 

50  they  aprochen  and  asenten,  they  hepen 
and  encresen  the  servage  which  they 
han  ioyned  to  hem-self;  and  in  this 
manere  they  ben  caitifs  fro  hir  propre 
libertee.     The  whiche  thinges,  nathe- 

55  lesse,  the  lokinge  of  the  devyne 
purviaunce  seeth,  that  alle  thinges 
biholdeth  and  seeth  fro  eterne,  and 
ordeineth  hem  everich  in  hir  merites 
as   they   ben    predestinat :    and  it  is 

60  seyd  in  Greek,  that  "  alle  thinges  he 
seeth  and  alle  thinges  he  hereth." 


Metre  II. 

Puro  clarum  Itiinine  Phebum. 

Homer  with  the  bony  mouth,  that 
is  to  seyn,  J/oiner  with  the  sivete 
ditees,  singeth,  that  the  sonne  is  cleer 
by  pure  light;  natheles  yit  ne  may  it 
5  nat,  by  the  inlirme  light  of  his  hemes, 
breken  or  percen  the  invvarde  en- 
trailes  of  the  erthe,  or  elles  of  the 
see.  So  ne  seeth  nat  god,  maker  of 
the  grete  world:   to  him,  that  loketh 

10  alle  thinges  from  an  heigh,  ne  with- 
stondeth  nat  no  thinges  by  hevinesse 
of  erthe;  ne  the  night  ne  withstond- 
eth  nat  to  him  by  the  blake  cloudes. 
Thilke    god    seeth,    in    00    strok    of 

15  thought,  alle  thinges  that  ben,  or 
weren,  or  sholle  comen;  and  thilke 
god,  for  he  loketh  and  seeth  alle 
thinges  alone,  thou  mayst  seyn  that 
he  is  the  verray  sonne.' 


Prose  HI. 
Tutn  ego,  en,  inquam. 

Thanne  seyde  I,  '  now  am  I  con- 
founded by  a  more  hard  doute  than  I 
was.' 

'What  doute  is  that?'  quod    she. 
'  F'or  certes,  I  coniecte  now  by  whiche      5 
thinges  thou  art  troubled.' 

'  It  semeth,'  quod  I,  'to  repugnen 
and  to  contrarien  greetly,  that  god 
knoweth  biforn  alle  thinges,  and  that 
ther  is  any  freedom  of  libertee.  For  10 
yif  so  be  that  god  loketh  alle  thinges 
biforn,  ne  god  ne  may  nat  ben  des- 
seived  in  no  manere,  than  mot  it  nedes 
been,  that  alle  thinges  bityden  the 
whiche  that  the  purviaunce  of  god  15 
hath  seyn  biforn  to  comen.  For  which, 
yif  that  god  knoweth  biforn  nat  only 
the  vverkes  of  men,  but  also  hir  con- 
seiles  and  hir  willes,  thanne  ne  shal 
ther  be  no  libertee  of  arbitre;  ne,  20 
certes,  ther  ne  may  be  noon  other 
dede,  ne  no  wil,  but  thilke  which  that 
the  divyne  purviaunce,  that  may  nat 
ben  desseived,  hath  feled  biforn.  For 
yif  that  they  mighten  wrythen  awey  25 
in  othre  manere  than  they  ben  pur- 
veyed, than  sholde  ther  be  no  stede- 
fast  prescience  of  thing  to  comen,  l^ut 
rather  an  uncertain  opinioun;  the 
whiche  thing  to  trowen  of  god,  I  deme  2P 
it  felonye  and  unleveful.  Ne  I  ne 
proeve  nat  thilke  same  resoun,  as  who 
seyth,  I  ne  aloive  nat,  or  I  ne  preyse 
nat,  thilke  same  resoun,  by  which  that 
som  men  wenen  that  they  m(3wen  as-  35 
soilen  and  unknitten  the  knotte  of 
this  questioun.  For,  certes,  they  seyn 
that  thing  nis  nat  to  comen  for  that 
the  purviaunce  of  god  hath  seyn  it 
biforn  that  is  to  comen,  l)ut  rather  the  40 
contrarye,  and  that  is  this:  that,  for 
that  the  thing  is  to  comen,  therfore 
ne  may  it  nat  ben  hid  fro  the  purvi- 
aunce of  god;  and  in  this  manere 
this  necessitee  slydeth  ayein  in-to  the  45 
contrarye  partye  :  ne  it  ne  bihoveth 
nat,  nedes,  that  thinges  bityden  that 
ben  purvyed,  but  it  bihoveth,  nedes, 
that  thinges  that  ben  to  comen  ben 
y-porveyed  :  but  as  it  were  y- travailed,    50 


BOETIUUS.     BOOK   V. 


199 


as  who  seylh,  that  thilk(  auswere  fro- 
tedith  right  as  thogh  men  tra7<ailedt'n, 
or  7veren  /'isy  to  eii(/uere>i,  the  vvhiclie 
thinj;  is  cause  of  the  whiche  tiling  :  — 

55  as,  wliether  the  prescience  is  cause  of 
the  necessitee  of  thinges  to  comen, 
or  elles  that  the  necessitee  of  thinges 
to  comen  is  cause  of  the  purviaunce. 
But    I    ne    enforce    me    nat    now    to 

60  shewen  it,  that  the  bitydinge  of  thinges 
y-wist  biforn  is  necessarie,  how  so  or 
in  what  manere  that  the  ordre  of 
causes  hath  it-self;  al-thogh  that  it  ne 
seme  nat  that  the  prescience  bringe  in 

65  necessitee  of  bitydinge  to  thinges  to 
comen.  For  certes,  yif  that  any  wight 
sitteth,  it  bihoveth  by  necessitee  that 
the  opinioun  be  sooth  of  him  that 
coniecteth  that  he  sitteth;  and  ayein- 

70  ward  also  is  it  of  the  contrarye :  yif 
the  opinioun  be  sooth  of  any  wight 
for  that  he  sitteth,  it  bihoveth  by  ne- 
cessitee that  he  sitte.  Thanne  is  heer 
necessitee  in  that    con    and    in    that 

75  other :  for  in  that  oon  is  necessitee  of 
sittinge,  and,  certes,  in  that  other  is 
necessitee  of  sooth.  But  therfore 
ne  sitteth  nat  a  wight,  for  that  the 
opinioun  of  the  sittinge  is  sooth;    but 

So  the  opinioun  is  rather  sooth,  for  that 
a  wight  sitteth  biforn.  And  thus,  al- 
thogh  that  the  cause  of  the  sooth 
Cometh  of  that  other  syde  {as  who 
seyth,  that  al-thogh  the  cause  of  sooth 

85  comth  of  the  sitting,  and  nat  of  the 
trewe  opinioun),  algates  yit  is  ther 
comune  necessitee  in  that  oon  and  in 
that  other.  Thus  sheweth  it,  that  I 
may  make    semblable    skiles    of   the 

90  purviaunce  of  god  and  of  thinges  to 
comen.  For  althogh  that,  for  that 
thinges  ben  to  comen,  ther-fore  ben 
they  purveyed,  nat,  certes,  for  that  they 
ben     purveyed,   ther-fore    ne    bityde 

95  they  nat.  Vit  natheles,  bihoveth  it 
by  necessitee,  that  either  the  thinges 
to  comen  ben  y-purveyed  of  god,  or 
elles  that  the  thinges  that  ben  pur- 
veyed of  god  bityden.  And  this  thing 
100  only  suffiseth  y-nough  to  destroyen 
the  freedom  of  oure  arbitre,  that  is  to 
seyn,  of  cure  free  wil.  But  now, 
certes,  shetveth  it  wel,  how  fer  fro  the 


sothe  a nd  \\i.-)\\  y^-%i3-Ao\w\  is  this  thing 
that   we  seyn,   that    the    bitydinge   of  105 
temporel    thinges    is    cause    of    the 
eterne  prescience.     But  for  to  wenen 
that    god    purvyeth    the    thinges     to 
comen  for   they  b.en  to  comen,  what 
other  thing  is  it  but  for  to  wene  that  no 
thilke  thinges  that  bitidilen  whylom 
ben  causes  of  thilke  soverein  purvy- 
aunce  that  is  in  god ?     And   her-to  / 
adde yit  this  thing:  that,  right  as  whan 
that  1  wot  that  a  thing  is,  it  bihoveth  115 
by  necessitee  that  thilke  selve  thing 
be;   and  eek,    whan    I    have    knovve 
that  any  thing  shal  bityden,  so  byhov- 
eth  it  by  necessitee  that  thilke  thing 
bityde: — so   folweth   it   thanne,   that  120 
the  bitydinge  of  the  thing  y-wist  biforn 
ne  may  nat  ben  eschued.     And  at  the 
laste,  yif  that  any  wight  wene  a  thing 
to  ben  other  weyes  thanne  it   is,  it  is 
nat  only  unscience,  but  it  is  deceivable  125 
opinioun  ful  diverse  and  fer  fro  the 
sothe  of  science.     Wherfore,  yif  any 
thing  be  so  to  comen,  that  the  bityd- 
inge of  hit  ne  be  nat  certein  ne  neces- 
sarie,   who    may    weten    biforn     that  130 
thilke  thing  is  to  comen?     For  right 
as  science  ne  may  nat   ben   medled 
with  falsnesse  {as  -who  seyth,  that  yif 
I  tvot  a  thing,  it  ne  may  nat  be  false 
that  I  ne  wot  it),  right  so  thilke  thing  135 
that  is  conceived   by  science   ne  may 
nat  ben  non  other  weys  than  as  it  is 
conceived.     For  that  is  the  cause  why 
that  science  wanteth  lesing  {as  who 
seyth,  why  that  wi tinge  ne  receiveth  140 
7iat  lesinge  of  that  it  -wot)  ;   for  it  bi- 
hoveth, by  necessitee,  that  every  thing 
be  right  as  science  comprehendeth  it 
to  be.    What  shal  I  thanne  seyn?    In 
whiche  manere  knoweth  god   biforn  145 
the  thinges  to  comen,  yif  they  ne  be 
nat  certein?     For   yif  that   he   deme 
that  they  ben  to  comen  uneschewably, 
and  so  may  be  that  it  is  possii)le  that 
they  ne  shollen  nat  comen,  god  is  de- 150 
ceived.     But  nat  only  to  trowen  that 
god  is  deceived,  but   for  to   speke  it 
with   mouth,  it  is  a    felonous    sinne. 
But  yif  that  god  wot  that,  right  so  as 
thinges  ben  to  comen,  so  shuUen   they  155 
comen  —  so    that    he  wite    egaly,    as 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V. 


who  seyth,  indifferently^  that  thinges 
mowen  ben  doon  or  elles  nat  y-doon 
—  what  is  thilke  prescience  that  ne 

i6o  coiiiprehcndeth  no  certein  thing  ne 
stalile?  Or  elles  what  difference  is 
ther  bitwixethe  prescience  and  thilke 
lape-worthy  divyninge  of  Tiresie  the 
divynour,    that  seyde :    "  Al    that    I 

165  seye,"  quod  he,  "  either  it  shal  be,  or 
elles  it  ne  shal  nat  be?"  Or  elles 
how  niochel  is  worth  the  devyne  pres- 
cience more  than  the  opinioun  of 
mankinde,  yif  so  be  that  it  demeth 

170  the  thinges  uncertein,  as  men  doon; 
of  the  whiche  domes  of  men  the 
bitydinge  nis  nat  certein?  But  yif  so 
be  that  non  uncertein  thing  ne  may 
ben  in  him  that  is  right  certein  welle 

175  of  alle  thinges,  thanne  is  the  bityd- 
inge certein  of  thilke  thinges  whiche 
he  hath  wist  biforn  fermely  to  comen. 
For  which  it  folweth,  that  the  freedom 
of  the  conseiles  and  of  the  werkes  of 

180  mankind  nis  non,  sin  that  the  thoght 
of  god,  that  seeth  alle  thinges  with- 
out errour  of  falsnesse,  bindeth  and 
constreineth  hem  to  a  bitydinge  />y 
necessitee.    And  yif  this  thing  be  ones 

185  y-graunted  and  received,  that  is  to 
seyn,  that  ther  nis  no  free  wille,  than 
sheweth  it  wel,  how  greet  destruc- 
cioun  and  how  grete  damages  ther 
folwen  of  thinges  of  mankinde.     For 

190  in  ydel  ben  ther  thanne  purposed  and 
bihight  medes  to  gode  folk,  and 
peynes  to  badde  folk,  sin  that  no 
moevinge  of  free  corage  voluntarie 
ne  hath  nat  deserved  hem,  that  is  to 

195  seyn,  neither  niede  ne  peyne  :  and  it 
sholde  seme  thanne,  that  thilke  thing 
isalderworst,  which  that  is  now  demed 
for  aldermost  iust  and  most  rightful, 
that  is  to  seyn,  that  shrewes  ben  pun- 

200  isshed,  or  elles  that  gode  folk  ben 
y-gerdoned  :  the  whiche  folk,  sin  that 
hir  propre  wil  ne  sent  hem  nat  to  that 
con  ne  to  that  other,  that  is  to  seyn, 
neither  to  gode  ne  to  harm,\>vX  con- 

205  streineth  hem  certein  necessitee  of 
thinges  to  comen  :  thanne  ne  shollen 
ther  nevere  ben,  ne  nevere  weren, 
vyce  ne  vertu,  but  it  sholde  rather  ben 


confusioun  of  alle  desertes  medled 
with-outen  discrecioun.  And  yit  ther  210 
folweth  an-other  inconvenient,  of  the 
whiche  ther  ne  may  ben  thoght  no 
more  felonous  ne  more  wikke;  and 
that  is  this :  that,  so  as  the  ordre  of 
thinges  is  y-led  and  comth  of  the  215 
purviaunce  of  god,  ne  that  no-thing 
nis  leveful  to  the  conseiles  of  man- 
kinde {as  7vho  seyth,  that  >nen  han  no 
power  to  doon  no-thing,  ne  wibie  no- 
thing), than  folweth  it,  that  oure  220 
vyces  ben  referred  to  the  maker  of 
alle  good  {as  ivho  seyth,  than  folweth 
it,  that  god  oiighte  han  the  blame  of 
oure  vyces,  sin  he  constreineth  us  by 
ttecessitee  to  doon  vyces) .  Thanne  is  225 
ther  no  resoun  to  hopen  in  god,  ne  for 
to  preyen  to  god ;  for  what  sholde  any 
wight  hopen  to  god,  or  why  sholde  he 
preyen  to  god,  sin  that  the  ordenaunce 
of  destinee,  which  that  ne  may  nat  230 
ben  inclyned,  knitteth  and  streineth 
alle  thinges  that  men  may  desiren? 
Thanne  sholde  ther  be  doon  awey 
thilke  only  allyaunce  bitwixen  god 
and  men,  that  is  to  seyn,  to  hopen  235 
and  to  preyen.  But  by  the  prys  of 
rightwisnesse  and  of  verray  meke- 
nesse  we  deserven  the  gerdoun  of  the 
divyne  grace,  which  that  is  inestima- 
ble, that  is  to  seyn,  that  it  is  so  greet,  240 
that  it  ne  may  nat  ben  fid  y-preysed. 
And  this  is  only  the  manere,  that  is  to 
seyn,  hope  and  preyeres,  for  which  it 
semeth  that  men  mowen  speke  with 
god,  and  by  resoun  of  supplicacioun  245 
be  conioined  to  thilke  cleernesse,  that 
nis  nat  aproched  no  rather  or  that 
men  beseken  it  and  impetren  it.  And 
yif  men  wene  nat  that  hope  ne  prey- 
eres ne  han  no  strengthes,  by  the  ne-250 
cessitee  of  thingesto  comen  y-received, 
what  thing  is  ther  thanne  by  whiche 
we  mowen  ben  conioined  and  clyven 
to  thilke  soverein  prince  of  thinges? 
For  which  it  bihoveth,  by  necessitee,  255 
that  the  linage  of  mankinde,  as  thou 
songe  a  litel  her-biforn,  be  departed 
and  unioined  from  his  welle,  and 
fallen  of  his  biginninge,  that  is  to 
seyn,  god,  260 


I 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V, 


Metre  III. 

Quenani  disiors  federa  reruin. 

What  discordable  cause  hath  to- 
rent  and  unioined  the  bindinge,  or 
the  allidioice,  of  thinges,  that  is  to 
Sfvii,  tin  conitinccioitii  of  god  and 
5  nian  ?  Whiche  god  hath  estahhsshed 
so  greet  bataile  bitwixen  thise  two 
soothfast  or  verray  thinges,  that  is  to 
seyii,  bitwixen  the  purviaiince  of  god 
a)id  free  'ioil,  that  they  ben  singuler 

10  and  ilcvyded,  ne  that  they  ne  wolen 
nat  be  medeled  ne  coupled  to-gidere? 
ISut  ther  nis  no  discord  to  the  verray 
thinges,  but  they  clyven,  certein,  al- 
wey  to  hem-self.      But  the  thought 

15  of  man,  confounded  and  overthrowen 
by  the  dirke  membres  of  the  body, 
ne  may  nat,  by  fyr  of  his  derked 
looking,  that  is  to  seyn,  by  the  vigour 
of  his  insighte,  whyl  the  soitle  is  in  the 

20  body,  knowe  the  thinne  subtil  knit- 
tinges  of  thinges.  But  wherfore  en- 
chaufeth  it  so,  by  so  greet  love,  to 
finden  thilke  notes  of  sooth  y-cov- 
ered  ;   that  is   to   seyn,  wherfore  en- 

25  chaufeth  the  thoght  of  man  by  so  greet 
desyr  to  knoiven  thilke  notificacions 
that  ben  y-hid  under  the  covertoures 
of  sooth?  \Vot  it  aught  thilke  thing 
that  it,  anguissous,  desireth  to  knowe? 

30  As  who  seith,  nay  ;  for  no  man  trav- 
aileth  for  to  witen  thinges  that  he  wot. 
And  ther  fore  the  texte  seith  thus  : 
but  who  travaileth  to  witen  thinges 
y-knowe?     And  yif  that  he  ne  know- 

35  eth  hem  nat,  what  seketh  thilke 
blinde  thoght?  What  is  he  that 
desireth  any  thing  of  which  he 
wot  right  naught?  As  who  seith, 
who    so    desireth    any    thing,    nedes, 

^o  somivhat  he  knoweth  of  it ;  or  elles, 
he  ne  coude  nat  desire  it.  Or  who 
may  folwen  thinges  that  ne  ben  nat 
y-wist  ?  And  thogh  that  he  seke  tho 
thinges,    wher    shal    he   finde    hem  ? 

45  What  wight,  that  is  al  unconninge 
and  ignoraunt,  may  knowen  the  forme 
that  is  y-founde?  But  whan  the 
soule  biholdeth  and  seeth  the  heye 
thoght,    that   is    to   seyn,    god,    than 

50  knoweth  it  to-gidere  the  somme  and 


the  singularitees,  that  is  to  seyn,  the 
principles  and  eiierich  by  him-self. 

But  now,  whyl  the  soule  is  hid  in 
the  cloude  and  in  the  derkenesse  of 
the  membres  of  the  body,  it  ne  hath  55 
nat  al  for-yeten  it-self,  but  it  with- 
holdeth  the  somme  of  thinges,  and 
leseth  the  singularitees.  I'hanne, 
who-so  that  seeketh  soothnesse,  he 
nis  in  neither  nother  habite  ;  for  he  'So 
noot  nat  al,  ne  he  ne  hath  nat  al 
foryeten :  but  yit  him  remembreth 
the  somme  of  thinges  that  he  with- 
holdeth,  and  axeth  conseil,  and  re- 
treteth  decpliche  thinges  y-seyn  65 
biforn,  that  is  to  seyn,  the  grete  somme 
in  his  minde :  so  that  he  niowe 
adden  the  parties  that  he  hath  for- 
yeten to  thilke  that  he  hath  with- 
holden.'  7° 

Prose  IV. 

Turn  ilia  :  Fetus,  inquit,  hec  est. 

Thanne  seide  she  :  'this  is,'  quod 
she,  '  the  olde  question  of  the  pur- 
viaunce  of  god;  and  Marcus  Tullius, 
whan  he  devyded  the  divynaciouns, 
that  is  to  seyn,  in  his  book  that  he  5 
wroot  of  divynaciouns,  he  moevede 
gretly  this  questioun;  and  thou  thy- 
self has  y-sought  it  mochel,  and  out- 
rely,  and  longe;  but  yit  ne  hath  it 
nat  ben  determined  ne  y-sped  fermely  10 
and  diligently  of  any  of  yow.  And 
the  cause  of  this  derkenesse  and  of 
this  difficultee  is,  for  that  the  moev- 
inge  of  the  resoun  of  mankinde  ne 
may  nat  moeven  to  {that  is  to  seyn,  15 
applyefi  or  ioinen  to)  the  simplicitee 
of  the  devyne  prescience;  the  whiche 
simplicitee  of  the  devyne  prescience, 
yif  that  men  mighten  thinken  it  in 
any  maner,  that  is  to  seyn,  that  yif  20 
7nen  mighten  thinken  and  compre- 
henden  the  thinges  as  god  seeth  hem, 
thanne  ne  sholde  ther  dwellen  outrely 
no  doute  :  the  whiche  resoun  and 
cause  of  difficultee  I  shal  assaye  at  the  25 
laste  to  shewe  and  to  speden,  whan  I 
have  first  y-spended  and  answered 
to  tho  resouns  by  which  thou  art 
y-moeved.      For    I    axe    why    thou 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V. 


30  wenest  that  thilke  resouns  of  hem 
thatassoilen  this  questioun  ne  ben  nat 
speedful  y-nough  ne  sufficient :  the 
whicheso/udou/i,  or  (he  ivhiche  resoun, 
for  that  it  demeth  that  the  prescience 

35  nis  nat  cause  of  necessitee  to  thinges 
to  comen,  than  ne  weneth  it  nat  that 
freedom  of  wil  be  destorbed  or  y-let 
by  prescience.  For  ne  drawestow 
nat    arguments    from    elles-where    of 

40  the  necessitee  of  thinges  to-comen 
{as  ivho  seith,  any  other  7uey  than 
thus)  but  that  thilke  thinges  that  the 
prescience  wot  biforn  ne  mowen  nat 
unbityde  ?        That    is   to    seyn,    that 

45  they  moten  bityde.  But  thanne,  yif 
that  prescience  ne  putteth  no  neces- 
sitee to  thinges  to  comen,  as  thou 
thy-self  hast  confessed  it  and  bi- 
knowen  a  Htel  her-biforn,  what  cause 

50  or  what  is  it  {as  who  seith,  ther  may 
no  cause  />e)  by  which  that  the  endes 
voluntarie  of  thinges  mighten  be  con- 
streined  to  certein  bitydinge  ?  For 
by  grace  of  positioun,   so   that   thou 

55  mowe  the  betere  understonde  this 
that  folweth,  I  pose,  per  impossible, 
that  ther  be  no  prescience.  Thanne 
axe  I,'  quod  she,  '  in  as  mochel  as 
apertieneth   to  that,  sholden   thanne 

60  thinges  that   comen  of  free   wil  ben 

constrained  to  bityden  by  necessitee  ? ' 

Boece.   '  Nay,'  quod  I. 

'  Thanne  ayeinward,'  quod  she, '  I 

suppose  that  ther  be  prescience,  but 

65  that  it  ne  putteth  no  necessitee  to 
thinges;  thanne  trowe  I,  that  thilke 
selve  freedom  of  wil  shal  dwellen  al 
hool  and  absolut  and  unbounden. 
But  thou  wolt  seyn  that,  al-be-it  so 

70  that  prescience  nis  nat  cause  of  the 
necessitee  of  bitydinge  to  thinges  to 
comen,  algates  yit  it  is  a  signe  that 
the  thinges  ben  to  bityden  by  neces- 
sitee.    By    this    manere    thanne,    al- 

75  thogh  the  prescience  ne  hadde  never 
y-ben,  yit  algate  or  at  the  leeste  lueye 
it  is  certein  thing,  that  the  endes  and 
bitydinges  of  thinges  to  comen 
sholden   ben    necessarie.     For   every 

80  signe  sheweth  and  signifyeth  only 
what  the  thing  is,  but  it  ne  maketh 
nat  the  thing  that  it  signifyeth.     For 


which  it  bihoveth  first  to  shewen, 
that  no-thing  ne  bitydeth  that  it  ne 
bitydeth  by  necessitee,  so  that  it  may  85 
appere  that  the  prescience  is  signe 
of  this  necessitee;  or  elles,  yif  ther 
nere  no  necessitee,  certes,  thilke 
prescience  ne  mighte  nat  be  signe 
of  thing  that  nis  nat.  But  certes,  it  90 
is  now  certein  that  the  proeve  of  this, 
y-sustened  by  stidefast  resoun,  ne 
shal  nat  ben  lad  ne  proeved  bysignes 
ne  by  arguments  y-taken  fro  with- 
oute,  but  by  causes  covenable  and  95 
necessarie.  But  thou  mayst  seyn,  how 
may  it  be  that  the  thinges  ne  bityden 
nat  that  ben  y-purveyed  to  comen? 
But,  certes,  right  as  we  trowen  that 
tho  thinges  which  that  the  purviance  100 
wot  biforn  to  comen  ne  ben  nat  to 
bityden;  but  that  ne  sholden  we  nat 
demen;  but  rather,  al-thogh  that  they 
shal  bityden,  yit  ne  have  they  no  ne- 
cessitee of  hir  kinde  to  bityden.  And  105 
this  maystow  lightly  aperceiven  by 
this  that  I  shal  seyn.  For  we  seen 
many  thinges  whan  they  ben  don  bi- 
forn oure  eyen,  right  as  men  seen  the 
cartere  worken  in  the  torninge  or  no 
atempringe  or  adressinge  of  hise 
cartes  or  charietes.  And  by  this 
manere  {as  who  seith,  maystoia  under- 
stonde) of  alle  othere  workmen.  Is 
ther  thanne  any  necessitee,  as  who  11^ 
seith,  in  oure  lokinge,  that  constrein- 
eth  or  compelleth  any  of  thilke  thinges 
to  ben  don  so?' 

Boece.  ' Nay,'  quod  I;  'for  in  ydel 
and  in  veyn  were  al  the  effect  of  120 
craft,  yif  that  alle  thinges  weren 
moeved  by  constreininge;  '  that  is  to 
seyn,  by  constreininge  of  oure  eyen  or 
of  oure  sight. 

Philosophie.  '  The  thinges  thanne,'  125 
quod  she, '  that,  whan  men  doon  hem, 
ne  han  no  necessitee  that  men  doon 
hem,  eek  tho  same  thinges,  first  or  they 
ben  doon,  they  ben  to  comen  with-oute 
necessitee.  For-why  ther  ben  somme  130 
thinges  to  bityden,  of  which  the  endes 
and  the  bitydinges  of  hem  ben  abso- 
lut and  quit  of  alle  necessitee.  For 
certes,  I  ne  trowe  nat  that  any  man 
wolde  seyn   this;    that   tho   thinges  135 


BOETHIUS,     BOOK   V. 


203 


that  men  doon  now,  that  they  ne 
weren  to  bityden  first  or  they  weren 
y-(loun ;  and  thilke  same  thinges, 
al-thogh    that    men   hatl   y-wist   hem 

140  biforn,  yit  they  han  free  bitydinges. 
For  right  as  science  of  thinges  pres- 
ent ne  bringeth  in  no  necessitee  to 
tliinges  that  men  doon,  right  so  the 
prescience   of   thinges   to   comen   ne 

145  bringeth  in  no  necessitee  to  thinges 
to  bityden.  But  thou  mayst  seyn, 
that  of  thilke  same  it  is  y-douted, 
as  whether  that  of  thilke  thinges  that 
ne  han  non  issues  and  bitydinges  nec- 

i5oessaries,  yif  ther-of  may  ben  any 
prescience;  for  certes,  they  semen  to 
discorden.  For  thou  wenest  that,  yif 
that  thinges  ben  y-seyn  biforn,  that 
necessitee  folweth  hem;   and  yif  ne- 

155  cessitee  faileth  hem,  they  ne  mighten 
nat  ben  wist  biforn,  and  that  no-thing 
ne  may  ben  comprehended  by  science 
but  certein;  and  yif  tho  thinges  that 
ne  han  no  certein  bitydinges  ben  pur- 

160  veyed  as  certein,  it  sholde  ben  dirk- 
nesse  of  opinioun,  nat  soothfastnesse 
of  science.  And  thou  wenest  that  it 
be  diverse  fro  the  hoolnesse  of  sci- 
ence  that  any   man   sholde   deme    a 

165  thing  to  ben  other-weys  thanne  it  is 
it-self.  And  the  cause  of  this  erroure 
is,  that  of  alle  the  thinges  that  every 
wight  hath  y-knowe,  they  wenen  that 
tho    thinges    been   y-knowe   al-oonly 

170  by  the  strengthe  and  by  the  nature 
of  the  thinges  that  ben  y-wist  or 
y-knowe;  and  it  is  al  the  contrarie. 
For  al  that  ever  is  y-knowe,  it  is  rather 
comprehended  and  knowen,  nat  after 

175  his  strengthe  and  his  nature,  hut  after 
the  facultee,  //tn/  h  to  seyn,  the  power 
and  the  nature,  of  hem  that  knowen. 
And,  for  that  this  thing  shal  mowen 
shewen    by   a  short   ensaumple :   the 

180  same  roundnesse  of  a  body,  other- 
weys  the  sighte  of  the  eye  knoweth 
it,  and  other-weyes  the  touchinge. 
The  lokinge,  by  castinge  of  his  hemes, 
waiteth  and  seeth   from  afer    al    the 

185  body  to-gidere,  with-oute  moevinge 
of  it-self;  but  the  touchinge  clyveth 
and  conioineth  to  the  rounde  body, 
and  moevech  aboute  the  enviruningc, 


and    comprehendeth    by   parties    the 
roundnesse.     And  the  man  him-self,  190 
other-weys   wit    biholdeth    him,    and 
other-weys  imaginacioun,  and  other- 
weys  resoun,  and  other-weys  intelli- 
gence.    For  the  wit  comprehendeth 
withoute-forth  the  tigurc  of  the  body  195 
of  the  man  that  is  establissed  in  the 
niatere  subiect;  but  the  imaginacioun 
comprehendeth  only  the  figure  with- 
oute  the  matere.     Resoun  surmount- 
eth  imaginacioun,  and   comprehend-  200 
eth  by  universal  lokinge  the  comune 
spece   that   is  in  the   singuler  peces. 
But  the  eye  of  intelligence  is  heyere; 
for  it  surmounteth  the  environinge  of 
the    universitee,    and    looketh,    over  205 
that,    by    pure    subtilitee    of    thoght, 
thilke  same  simple  forme  of  man  that 
is  perdiirahly  in   the  diiyne  thoght. 
In  whiche  this  oughte  greetly  to  ben 
considered,  that  the  heyeste  strengthe  210 
to  comprehenden   thinges   enbraseth 
and  contieneth  the  lowere  strengthe; 
but   the  lowere  strengthe  ne  aryseth 
nat  in  no  manere  to  heyere  strengthe. 
For    wit    ne    may    no-thing   compre-215 
hende  out  of  matere,  ne  the  imagina- 
cioun ne  loketh  nat   the    universels 
speces,  ne  resoun  taketh  nat  the  sim- 
ple forme  so  as  intelligence  taketh  it  ; 
but     intelligence,     that     looketh    al  220 
aboven,  whan  it  hath  comprehended 
the    forme,   it  knoweth   and   demeth 
alle  the  thinges  that  ben  under   that 
forme.    But  she  knoiveth  hem  in  thilke 
manere  in  the  whiche  it  comprehend- 225 
eth  thilke   same    simple    forme    that 
ne  may  never  ben  knowen  to  none 
of  that  other;   that  is  to  seyn,  to  none 
of  tho   three  forseide  thinges   of  the 
so'iiile.    For  it  knoweth  the  universitee  230 
of  resoun,  and  the  figure  of  the  imag- 
inacioun,   and   the   sensible    material 
conceived  by  ivit ;  ne  it  ne  useth  nat 
nor  of  resoun  ne  of  imaginacioun  ne 
of  wit  withoute-forth ;  but  it  biholdeth  235 
alle  thinges,  so  as  I  shal  seye,  by  a  strok 
of  thought  formely,  loithonte  discours 
or  collacioun.     Certes  resoun,  whan 
it  looketh   any-thing  universel,  it  ne 
useth    nat    of   imaginacioun,   nor    of  240 
witte,  and  algates  yit  it  comprehend- 


204 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK  V. 


eth  the  thinges  imaginable  and  sen- 
sil)le;  for  resoun  is  she  that  diffinis- 
seth    the    universel    of    hir    conseyte 

245  ""'g^'  thus  :  —  man  is  a  resonable  two- 
foted  heest.  And  how  so  that  this 
Icnowinge  is  universe),  yet  nis  ther  no 
wight  that  ne  woot  wel  that  a  man  is 
a  thing  imaginable  and  sensible;   and 

250  this  same  considereth  wel  resoun; 
but  that  nis  nat  by  imaginacioun  nor 
by  wit,  but  it  looketh  it  by  a  resona- 
ble concepcioun.  Also  imaginacioun, 
al-be-it  so  that  it  taketh   of  wit  the 

255  beginninges  to  seen  and  to  formen 
the  figures,  algates,  al-thogh  that  wit 
ne  were  nat  present,  yit  it  environeth 
and  comprehendeth  alle  thinges  sen- 
sible;   nat  by  resoun  sensible  of  de- 

260  minge,but  by  resoun  imaginatif.  See- 
stow  nat  thanne  that  alle  the  thinges, 
in  knowinge,  usen  more  of  hir  facultee 
or  of  hir  power  than  they  doon  of  the 
facultee  or  power  of  thinges  that  ben 

265y-knowe?  Ne  that  nis  nat  wrong; 
for  so  as  every  lugement  is  the  dede 
or  doinge  of  him  that  demeth,  it  bi- 
hoveth  that  every  wight  performe  the 
werk  and  his  entencioun,  nat  of  for- 

270  eine  power,  but  of  his  propre  power. 

Metre  IV. 

Quondam  porticus  attiilit. 

The  Porche,  that  is  to  seyn,  a  gate 
of  the  town  of  Athenes  ther-as  philoso- 
phres  hadden  hir  congregacioun  to 
desputen,  thilke  Porche  broughte 
5  som-tyme  olde  men,  ful  derke  in  hir 
sentences,  that  is  to  seyn,  philosophres 
that  highten  Stoiciens,  that  wenden 
that  images  and  sensibilitees,  that  is 
to  seyn,  sensible  imaginaciotins  or  elles 

10  irnaginaciouns  of  sensible  thinges, 
weren  enipreinted  in-to  sowles  fro 
bodies  withoute-forth;  as  ivho  seith, 
that  thilke  Stoiciens  wenden  that  the 
sowle  hadde  ben  naked  of  it-self,  as  a 

15  mirour  or  a  dene  parcheinin,  so  that 
alle  figures  mosten  first  comen  fro 
thinges  fro  withoute-forth  in-to  soiules, 
and  ben  enipreinted  in-to  sowles : 
Text :  right  as  we  ben  wont  som-tyme, 

20  by  a  swifte  pointel,  to  ficchcli  lettres 


enipreinted  in  the  smothenesse  or  in  the 
pleinnesse  of  the  table  of  wex  or  in 
parcheinin  that  ne  hath  no  figure  ne 
note  in  it.  Glose.  But  now  argueth 
Boece  ayeins  that  opinioun,  and  seith  25 
thus :  But  yif  the  thryvinge  sowle  ne 
unpleyteth  no-thing,  that  is  to  seyn,  ne 
doth  nothing,  by  his  propre  moevinges, 
but  suftVeth  and  lyth  suligit  to  tho  fig- 
ures and  to  tho  notes  of  bodies  with-  30 
oute  forth,  and  yildeth  images  ydel 
and  veyn  in  the  manere  of  a  mirour, 
whennes  thryveth  thanne  or  whennes 
comth  thilke  knowinge  in  our  sowle, 
that  discerneth  and  biholdeth  alle  35 
thinges?  And  whennes  is  thilke 
strengthe  that  biholdeth  the  singuler 
thinges;  or  whennes  is  the  strengthe 
that  devydeth  thinges  y-knowe;  and 
thilke  strengthe  that  gadereth  to-  40 
gidere  the  thinges  devyded;  and  the 
strengthe  that  cheseth  his  entre- 
chaunged  wey?  For  som-tyme  it 
heveth  up  the  heved,  that  is  to  seyn, 
that  it  heveth  up  the  entencioun  to  45 
right  heye  thinges ;  and  som-tyme  it 
descendeth  in-to  right  lowe  thinges. 
And  whan  it  retorneth  in-to  him-self, 
it  reproeveth  and  destroyeth  the  false 
thinges  by  the  trewe  thinges.  Certes,  50 
this  strengthe  is  cause  more  efficient, 
and  mochel  more  mighty  to  seen  and 
to  knowe  thinges,  than  thilke  cause 
that  suffreth  and  receiveth  the  notes 
and  the  figures  impressed  in  maner  55 
of  matere.  Algates  the  passioun, //^rt/ 
is  to  seyn,  the  suffraunce  or  the  7uit, 
in  the  quike  body,  goth  biforn,  excit- 
inge  and  moevinge  the  strengthes  of 
the  thought.  Right  so  as  whan  that  60 
cleernesse  smyteth  the  eyen  and 
moeveth  hem  to  seen,  or  right  so  as 
vois  or  soun  hurteleth  to  the  eres  and 
commoeveth  hem  to  herkne,  than  is  the 
strengthe  of  the  thought  y-moeved  65 
and  excited,  and  clepeth  forth,  to 
semblable  moevinges,  the  speces  that 
it  halt  with-inne  it-self;  and  addeth 
tho  speces  to  the  notes  and  to  the 
thinges  withoute-forth,  and  medleth  70 
the  images  of  thinges  withoute-forth 
to  tho  formes  y-hidde  with-inne  him- 
self. 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V. 


205 


Prose  V. 

Quod  si  in  corporibtts  sentiendis. 

But  what  yif  that  in  bodies  to  ben 
feleil,  that  is  to  seyn,  in  the  lakiitgc  of 
kiio7vetc'(hinge  of  bodily  thiugcs,  and 
al-be-it  so  that  the  qualitees  of  bodies, 
5  that  ben  oliiccte  fro  withoute-forth, 
moeven  and  entalenten  the  instru- 
ments of  the  wittes;  and  al-be-it  so 
that  the  passioun  of  the  body,  that  is 
to   seyn,   the   wit   or   the    siifjfraunee, 

logoth  to-forn  the  strengthe  of  the 
workinge  corage,  the  which  passioun 
or  suffraunce  clepeth  forth  the  dede 
of  the  thoght  in  himself,  and  moeveth 
and  exciteth  in  this  niene  whyle  the 

15  formes  that  rcsten  withinne-forth; 
and  yif  that,  in  sensible  bodies,  as  1 
have  seyd,  our  corage  nis  nat  y-taught 
or  empreinted  by  passioun  to  k)iowe 
thise  thinges,  but  demeth   and  know- 

20  eth,  of  his  owne  strengthe,  the  pas- 
sioun or  suffraunce  subiect  to  the 
body  :  moche  more  thanne  tho  thinges 
that  ben  aijsolut  and  quite  fro  alle 
talents  or  affecciouns  of  bodies,  as  god 

25  or  his  aunge/es,  ne  folwen  nat  in  dis- 
cerninge  thinges  obiect  fro  withoute- 
forth,  but  they  accomplisshen  and 
speden  the  dede  of  hir  thoght.  By 
this  resoun  thanne  ther  comen  many 

30  maner  knowinges  to  dyverse  and  dif- 
feringe  suljstaunces.  For  the  wit  of 
the  body,  the  whiche  wit  is  naked 
and  despoiled  of  alle  other  know- 
inges, thilke  wit  comth  to  beestes  that 

35  ne  mowen  nat  moeven  hem-self  her 
and  ther,  as  oystres  and  mtiscnles,  and 
other  swiehe  shelle-fish  of  the  see,  that 
clyven  and  ben  norisshed  to  roches. 
But  the  imaginacioun  comth  to  remu- 

40  able  beestes,  that  semen  to  ban  talent 
to  flcen  or  to  desiren  any  thing.  But 
resoun  is  al-only  to  the  linage  of 
mankinde,  right  as  intelligence  is  only 
[to]  the  devyne  nature :   of  which  it 

45  folweth,  that  thilke  knowinge  is  more 
worth  than  thise  othre,  sin  it  know- 
eth  by  his  propre  nature  nat  only  his 
subiect,  as  zcho  seith,  it  ne  knoweth 
nat  al-only  Hint  apertieneth  properly 

50  to  his  knowinge,  but  it  knoweth  the 


sui)iects  of  alle  other  knowinges.  But 
how  shal  it  thanne  be,  yif  that  wit 
anil  imaginacioun  stryven  ayein  re- 
soninge,  ami  seyn,  that  of  thilke 
universel  thing  that  resoun  weneth  to  55 
seen,  that  it  nis  right  naught?  For 
wit  and  imaginacioun  seyn  that  that, 
that  is  sensible  or  imaginal)le,  it  ne 
may  nat  be  universel.  Thanne  is 
either  the  lugcment  of  resoun  sooth,  60 
ne  that  ther  nis  nothing  sensible;  or 
elles,  for  tiiat  resoun  wot  wel  that 
many  thinges  ben  subiect  to  wit  and 
to  imaginacioun,  thanne  is  the  con- 
cepcioun  of  resoun  veyn  and  false,  hz^ 
which  that  loketh  and  comprchendeth 
that  that  is  sensible  and  singuler  as 
universel.  And  yif  that  resoun  wolde 
answeren  ayein  to  thise  two,  that  is 
to  seyn,  to  'vitte  and  to  imaginacioun,  70 
and  seyn,  that  soothly  she  hit-self, 
that  is  to  seyn,  resoun,  loketh  and 
comprchendeth,  by  resoun  of  univer- 
salitee,  bothe  that  that  is  sensible  and 
that  that  is  imaginable;  and  that  75 
thilke  two,  that  is  to  seyn,  wit 
and  imaginacioun,  ne  mowen  nat 
strecchen  ne  enhansen  hem-self  to 
the  knowinge  of  universalitee,  for 
that  the  knowinge  of  hem  ne  may  80 
exceden  ne  surmounte  the  bodily 
figures:  certes,  of  the  know'inge  of 
thinges,  men  oughten  rather  yeven 
credence  to  the  more  stedefast  and 
to  the  more  partit  lugement.  In  this  85 
maner  stryvinge  thanne,  we  that  han 
strengthe  of  resoninge  and  of  imagin- 
inge  and  of  wit,  that  is  to  seyn,  by 
resoun  and  by  imaginacioun  and  by 
wit,  we  sholde  rather  preyse  the  cause  90 
of  resoun;  as  who  seith,  than  the 
cause  of  7vit  and  of  imaginacioun. 

Semblable  thing  is  it,  that  the 
resoun  of  mankinde  ne  weneth  nat 
that  the  devyne  intelligence  bi-holdeth  95 
or  knoweth  thinges  to  comen,  but 
right  as  the  resoun  of  mankinde 
knoweth  hem.  For  thou  arguest  and 
sevst  thus:  that  yif  it  ne  seme  nat  to 
men  that  some  thinges  han  certein  100 
and  necessarie  bitydinges,  they  ne 
mowen  nat  ben  wist  biforn  certeinly 
to  bityden.     And  thanne  nis  ther  no 


2o6 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK  V. 


prescience  of  thilke-thinges;   and  yif 

105  we  trowe  that  prescience  be  in  thise 
thinges,  thanne  is  ther  no-thing  that 
it  ne  hitydeth  by  necessitee.  But 
certes,  yif  we  mighten  ban  the  luge- 
ment  of  the  devyne  thoght,  as  we  ben 

no  parsuneres  of  resoun,  right  so  as  we 
han  denied  that  it  behoveth  that  im- 
aginacioun  and  wit  be  binethe  resoun, 
right  so  wolde  we  demen  that  it  were 
rightful    thing,    that    mannes    resoun 

115  oughte  to  sulimitten  it-self  and  to  ben 
binethe  the  divyne  thoght.  F"or  which, 
yif  that  we  movven,  as  xvho  seilh,  that, 
yif  that  we  mowen,  I  counseyle,  that 
we    enhanse  us  in-to  the  heighte  of 

laothilke  sovereyn  intelligence;  for  ther 
shal  resoun  vvel  seen  that,  that  it  ne 
may  nat  biholden  in  it-self.  And 
certes  that  is  this,  in  what  maner  the 
prescience  of  god  seeth  alle  thinges 

125  certeinsand  diffinisshed,  al-thogh  they 
ne  han  no  certein  issues  or  bitydinges; 
ne  this  is  non  opinioun,  but  it  is 
rather  the  simplicitee  of  the  sovereyn 
science,    that    nis    nat    enclosed    nor 

ijoy-shet  within  none  boundes. 

Metre  V. 

Quam    uariis   terris   animalia  per- 
meant  Jiguris. 

The  beestes  passen  by  the  erthes 
by  ful  diverse  figures.  For  som  of 
hem  han  hir  bodies  straught  and 
crepen  in  the  dust,  and  drawen  after 
5  hem  a  tras  or  a  foruh  y-continued; 
that  is  to  seyii,  as  nadres  or  snakes. 
And  other  beestes,  by  the  wandringe 
lightnesse  of  hir  winges,  beten  the 
windes,  and  over-swimmen  the  spaces 

10  of  the  longe  eyr  by  moist  fleeinge. 
And  other  beestes  gladen  hem-self  to 
diggen  hir  tras  or  hir  steppes  in  the 
erthe  with  hir  goings  or  with  hir  feet, 
and    to    goon    either    by    the    grene 

15  feldes,  or  elles  to  walken  under  the 
wodes.  And  al-be-it  so  that  thou 
seest  that  they  alle  discorden  by 
diverse  formes,  algates  hir  faces,  en- 
clined,    hevieth    hir     dulle      wittes. 

20  Only  the  linage  of  man  heveth  hey- 
este   his   heye    heved,    and   stondeth 


light  with  his  up-right  body,  and 
biholdeth  the  erthes  under  him.  And, 
but-yif  thou,  erthely  man,  wexest 
yvel  out  of  thy  wit,  this  figure  25 
amonesleth  thee,  that  axest  the  hevene 
with  thy  righte  visage,  and  hast 
areysed  thy  fore-heved,  to  beren  up 
a-heigh  thy  corage;  so  that  thy 
thoght  ne  be  nat  y-hevied  ne  put  30 
lowe  under  fote,  sin  that  thy  body  is 
so  heye  areysed. 

Prose  VI. 
Quoniam  igitur,  uti  paullo  ante. 

Therfor  thanne,  as  I  have  shewed 
a  litel  her-biforn,  that  al  thing  that  is 
y-wist  nis  nat  knowen  by  his  nature 
propre,  but  by  the  nature  of  hem  that 
comprehenden  it,  lat  us  loke  now,  in  5 
as  mochel  as  it  is  leveful  to  us,  as  who 
seith,  lat  us  loke  no7u  as  we  mowen, 
which  that  the  estat  is  of  the  devyne 
substaunce;  so  that  we  mowen  eek 
knowen  what  his  science  is.  The  10 
commune  lugement  of  alle  creatures 
resonables  thanne  is  this :  that  god 
is  eterne.  Lat  us  considere  thanne 
what  is  eternitte;  for  certes  that  shal 
shewen  us  to-gidere  the  devyne  na-  15 
ture  and  the  devyne  science. 

Eternitee,  thanne,  is  parfit  posses- 
sioun  and  al-togidere  of  lyf  intermin- 
able; and  that  sheweth  more  cleerly 
by  the  comparisoun  or  the  collacioun  20 
of  temporel  thinges.  For  al  thing 
that  liveth  in  tyme  it  is  present,  and 
procedeth  fro  preterits  in-to  futures, 
that  is  to  seyn,  fro  tyme  passed  in-to 
tyme  cominge ;  ne  ther  nis  no-thing  25 
establisshed  in  tyme  that  may  en- 
bracen  to-gider  al  the  space  of  his  lyf. 
For  certes,  yit  ne  hath  it  taken  the 
tyme  of  to-morwe,  and  it  hath  lost 
the  tyme  of  yisterday.  And  certes,  in  30 
the  lyf  of  this  day,  ye  ne  liven  no 
more  but  right  as  in  the  moevable 
and  transitorie  moment.  Thanne 
thilke  thing  that  suffreth  temporel 
condicioun,  al-thogh  that  it  never  35 
bigan  to  be,  ne  thogh  it  never  cese 
for  to  be,  as  Aristotle  demed  of  the 
world,  and  al-thogh  that  the  lyf  of 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V. 


207 


it  be  strccched  with  infinitee  of  tynie, 

40  yit  al^atcs  nis  it  no  swich  thing  that 
men  niij^hten  trowcn  by  right  that  it 
is  eternc.  For  al-thogh  that  it  com- 
prehende  and  embrace  the  space  of 
lyf  inlinit,  yit  algatcs  ne  embraceth  it 

45  iiat  the  space  of  the  lyf  al-togider; 
for  it  ne  hath  nat  the  futures  that  ne 
ben  nat  yit,  ne  it  tic  hath  no  lenger 
the  preterits  that  ben  y-doon  or 
v-ptisseJ.     But   thilke   thing  thanne, 

50  that  hath  and  comprehendeth  to- 
gider  al  the  plentee  of  the  lyf  inter- 
minable, to  wlxjm  ther  ne  faileth 
naught  of  the  future,  and  to  whom 
ther     nis    naught    of     the     preterit 

55  escaped  nor  y-passed,  thilke  same  is 
y-witnessed  and  y-proeved  by  right 
to  be  eterne.  And  it  bihoveth  by 
necessitee  that  thilke  thing  beal-wey 
present  to  him-self,  and  compotent; 

60  as  who  seith,  al--<cey  present  to  him- 
self, and  so  mighty  that  al  be  right  at 
his  pleasaiinee  ;  2i.x\d\.\\3.\.  he  have  al 
present  tlie  infinitee  of  the  moevable 
tyme.     Wher-for    som   men    trowen 

65  wrongfully  that,  whan  they  heren 
that  it  semede  to  Plato  that  this 
world  ne  hadde  never  beginninge  of 
tyme,  ne  that  it  never  shal  han  fail- 
inge,  they  wenen    in  this  maner  that 

^o  this  world  be  maked  coeterne  with 
his  maker;  as  who  seith,  they  wene 
that  this  world  and  god  hen  maked 
togider  eterne,  and  that  is  a  wrongful 
7veninge.     For    other    thing    is    it  to 

75  ben  y-lad  by  lyf  interminable,  as 
Plato  graunted  to  the  world,  and 
other  thing  is  it  to  embrace  to-gider 
al  the  present  of  the  lyf  interminable, 
the  whiche  thing  it  is  cleer  and  man- 

80  ifest  that  it  is  propre  to  the  devyne 
thoght. 

Ne  it  ne  sholde  nat  semen  to  us, 
that  god  is  elder  thanne  thinges  that 
ben    y-maked  by  quantitee  of  tyme, 

85  but  rather  by  the  propretee  of  his 
simple  nature.  F"or  this  ilke  inhnit 
moevinge  of  temporel  thinges  folweth 
this  presentarie  estat  of  lyf  unmoev- 
able;    and  so  as  it  ne  may  nat  coun- 

90  trefeten  it  ne  feynen  it  ne  be  even- 
lyke  to  it  for  the    inmoevabletee,  that 


is  to  seyn,  that  is  in  the  eternitee  of 
god.  it  faileth  and  faileth  in-to  moev- 
inge fro  the  simplicitee  of  the  pres- 
ence of  god,  and  disencreseth  in-to  95 
the  infinit  quantitee  of  future  and  of 
preterit :  and  so  as  it  ne  may  nat  han 
to-gider  al  the  plentee  of  the  lyf, 
algates  yit,  for  as  moche  as  it  ne 
ceseth  never  for  to  ben  in  som  maner,  100 
it  semeth  som-del  to  us,  that  it  folweth 
and  resembleth  thilke  thing  that  it  ne 
may  nat  atayne  to  ne  fuUillen,  and 
bindeth  it-self  to  som  maner  presence 
of  this  litel  and  swifte  moment:  the  105 
which  presence  of  this  litel  and  swifte 
moment,  for  that  it  bercth  a  maner 
image  or  lyknesse  of  the  ay-dvvellinge 
presence  of  god,  it  graunteth,  to 
swiche  maner  thinges  as  it  bitydethiio 
to,  that  it  semeth  hem  as  thise  thinges 
han  y-hen,  and  ben. 

And,  for  that  the  presence  of  sioich 
litel  moment  ne  may  nat  dwelle,  ther- 
for  it  ravisshed  and  took  the  inhnitii5 
wey  of  tyme,  that  is  to  seyn,  by  suc- 
cessioun ;  and  by  this  maner  is  it 
y-doon,  for  that  it  sholde  continue 
the  lyf  in  goinge,  of  the  whiche  lyf  it 
ne  mighte  nat  enbrace  the  plentee  in  120 
dwellinge.  And  for-thy,  yif  we  wol- 
len  putten  worthy  names  to  thinges, 
and  folwen  Plato,  lat  us  seye  thanne 
soothly,  that  god  is  eterne,  and  the 
world  is  perpetuel.  Thanne,  sin  that  125 
every  lugement  knoweth  and  com- 
prehendeth by  his  owne  nature 
thinges  that  ben  subiect  un-to  him, 
ther  is  soothly  to  god,  al-vveys,  an 
eterne  and  presentarie  estat  ;  and  130 
the  science  of  him,  that  over-passeth  al 
temporel  moevement,  dvvelleth  in  the 
simplicitee  of  his  presence,  and  em- 
braceth and  considereth  alle  the  infinit 
spaces  of  tymes,  preterits  and  futures,  135 
and  loketh,  in  his  simple  knowiiige, 
alle  thinges  of  preterit  right  as  they 
weren  y-doon  presently  right  now. 
Vif  thou  wolt  thanne  thenken  and 
avyse  the  prescience,  liy  which  it  140 
knoweth  alle  thinges,  thou  ne  shal 
nat  deinen  it  as  prescience  of  thinges 
to  comen,  but  thou  shalt  demen  it 
more  rightfully  that  it  is  science  of 


208 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK  V. 


145  presence  or  of  instaunce,  that  never 
ne  faileth.  P"or  which  it  nis  nat 
y-cleped  "  previdence,"  hut  it  sholde 
rather  ben  cleped  "  purviaunce,"  that 
is  establisshed  ful  fer  fro  right  lovve 

150  thinges,  and  biholdeth  from  a-fer 
alle  thinges,  right  as  it  were  fro  the 
heye  heighte  of  thinges. 

Why  axestow  thanne,  or  why  des- 
putestow  thanne,  that  thilke  thinges 

155  ben  doon  by  necessitee  whiche  that 
ben  y-seyn  and  knowen  by  the  devyne 
sighte,  sin  that,  forsothe,  men  ne 
maken  nat  thilke  thinges  necessarie 
which  that  they  seen   ben  y-doon  in 

160  hir  sighte  ?     For  addeth  thy  bihold- 
inge  any  necessitee  to  thilke  thinges 
that  thou  biholdest  presente?' 
'  Nay,'  quod  I. 
Fhilosophie.      '  Certes,    thanne,    if 

165  men  mighte  maken  any  digne  com- 
parisoun  or  collacioun  of  the  presence 
devyne  and  of  the  presence  of  man- 
kinde,  right  so  as  ye  seen  some 
thinges    in    this     temporel    present, 

170  right  so  seeth  god  alle  thinges  by  his 
eterne  present.  Wher-fore  this  de- 
vyne prescience  ne  chaungeth  nat  the 
nature  ne  the  propretee  of  thinges, 
but  biholdeth  swiche  thinges  present 

175  to  him-ward  as  they  shuUen  bityde  to 
yow-ward  in  tyme  to  comen.  Ne  it 
confoundeth  nat  the  lugement  of 
thinges ;  but  by  o  sighte  of  his 
thought,  he  knoweth   the   thinges  to 

x8o  comen,  as  wel  necessarie  as  nat  nec- 
essarie. Right  so  as  whan  ye  seen 
to-gider  a  man  walken  on  the  erthe 
and  the  Sonne  arysen  in  the  hevene, 
al-be-it  so  that  ye  seen  and  biholden 

185  that  oon  and  that  other  to-gider,  yit 
natheles  ye  demen  and  discernen  that 
that  oon  is  voluntarie  and  that  other 
necessarie.  Right  so  thanne  the  de- 
vyne lookinge,  biholdinge  alle  thinges 

190  under  him,  ne  trouhleth  nat  the  qual- 
itee  of  thinges  that  ben  certeinly  pres- 
ent to  him-ward;  but,  as  to  the  con- 
dicioun  of  tyme,  forsothe,  they  ben 
future.     For   which   it   folweth,    that 

195  this  nis  noon  opinioun,  but  rather  a 
stedefast  knowinge,  y-strengthed  by 
soothnesse,    that,    vvhanne    that   god 


knoweth  anything  to  be,  he  ne  unwot 
nat  that  thilke  thing  wanteth  neces- 
sitee to  be;  this  is  to  seyn,  that,  whan  200 
that  god  knoweth  any  thing  to  bityde,  he 
wot  wel  that  it  ne  hath  no  necessitee 
to  bityde. 

And  yif  thou  seyst  heer,  that  thilke 
thing  that  god  seeth  to  bityde,  it  ne  205 
may  nat  unbityde  (^as  7uho  seith,  it  tnot 
bityde"),  and  thilke  thing  that  ne  may 
nat  unbityde  it  mot  bityde  by  neces- 
sitee,  and   that   thou  streyne   me  by 
this  name  of  necessitee  :  certes,  I  wol  210 
wel   confessen  and  hiknowe  a  thing 
of  ful  sad  trouthe,  but  unnethe  shal 
ther  any  wight  mowe  seen  it  or  come 
ther-to,  but-yif  that  he  be  biholder 
of  the  devyne    thoght.      For  I  wol  215 
answeren     thee     thus :     that     thilke 
thing  that  is  future,  whan  it  is  referred 
to  the  devyne  knowinge,  thanne  is  it 
necessarie;    but  certes,  whan  it  is  un- 
derstonden  in  his  owne  kinde,   men  220 
seen  it    is   outrely  free,  and  absolut 
fro  alle  necessitee. 

For  certes,  ther  ben  two  maneres 
of  necessitee.  That  oon  necessitee 
is  simple,  as  thus :  that  it  bihoveth  225 
by  necessitee,  that  alle  men  be  mortal 
or  deedly.  Another  necessitee  is 
conditionel,  as  thus :  yif  thou  wost 
that  a  man  walketh,  it  bihoveth  by 
necessitee  that  he  walke.  Thilke  230 
thing  thanne  that  any  wight  hath 
y-knowe  to  be,  it  ne  may  ben  non 
other  weyes  thanne  he  knoweth  it  to 
be.  But  this  condicioun  ne  draweth 
nat  with  hir  thilke  necessitee  simple.  235 
For  certes,  this  necessitee  conditio7iel, 
the  propre  nature  of  it  ne  maketh  it 
nat,  but  the  adieccioun  of  the  condi- 
cioun maketh  it.  For  no  necessitee 
ne  constreyneth  a  man  to  gon,  that  240 
goth  by  his  propre  wil;  al-be-it  so 
that,  whan  he  goth,  that  it  is  neces- 
sarie that  he  goth.  Right  on  this 
same  maner  thanne,  yif  that  the 
purviaunce  of  god  seeth  any  thing  245 
present,  than  mot  thilke  thing  ben  by 
necessitee,  al-thogh  that  it  ne  have 
no  necessitee  of  his  owne  nature.  But 
certes,  the  futures  that  bityden  by  free- 
dom ofarbitre,  god  seeth  hem  alle  to- 250 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V. 


209 


gifler  present.  Thise  thiiifjes  thanne, 
yif  they  hen  referred  to  the  devyne 
sighte,  thanne  ben  they  niaked  neces- 
sarie  by  the  condicioun  of  the  devyne 

255  knowinge.  But  certes,  yif  thillce 
thinges  be  considered  by  hem-self, 
they  ben  absolut  of  necessilee,  and 
ne  fork-ten  nat  ne  cesen  nat  of  the 
lii)ertee  of  hir  owne  nature.     Thanne, 

260  certes,  with-oute  doute,  alle  the 
thinges  shollen  l)en  doon  which  that 
god  wot  biforn  that  they  ben  to 
comen.  But  som  of  hem  comen  and 
bityden  of  free  arbitre  or  of  free  iville, 

265  that,  al-be-it  so  that  tiiey  bityden,  yit 
algates  ne  iese  they  nat  hir  propre 
nature  in  beinge;  i)y  the  which  tirst, 
(^r  that  they  weren  y-doon,  they 
hadden  power  nat  to  han  bitid.' 

270  Boece.  '  What  is  this  to  seyn 
thanne,'  quod  1,  '  that  thinges  ne  ben 
nat  necessarie  iy  hir  propre  nature, 
so  as  they  comen  in  alle  maneres  in 
the    lyknesse    of    necessitee    by    the 

275  condicioun  of  the  devyne  science?  ' 
Philosophie.     'This    is    the   differ- 
ence,'  quod  she;    'that    tho   thinges 
that  I   purposede   thee  a   litel   heer- 
biforn,    that    is    to    seyn,    the    Sonne 

2S0  arysinge  and  the  man  walkinge,  that, 
ther-whyles  that  thilke  thinges  been 
y-doon,  they  ne  niighte  nat  ben  un- 
doon;  natheles,  that  oon  of  hem,  or 
it  was  y-doon,    it   bihoved   by   neces- 

285  sitee  that  it  was  y-doon,  but  nat  that 
other.  Right  so  is  it  here,  that  the 
thinges  that  god  hath  present,  with- 
oute  doute  they  shollen  been.  But 
som  of  hem  descendeth  of  the  nature 

290  of  thinges,  as  the  sonne  arysinge; 
and  som  descendeth  of  the  power  of 
the  doeres,  as  the  man  zvalkingc. 
Thanne  seide  I  no  wrong,  that  yif 
tliese    thinges    ben    referred    to    the 

295  devyne  knowinge,  thanne  ben  they 
necessarie  ;  and  yif  they  ben  con- 
sidered by  hem-self,  thanne  ben  they 
absolut  fro  the  l)ond  of  necessitee. 
Right  so  as  alle  thinges  that  apereth 

300  or  shevveth  to  the  wittes,  yif  thou 
referre  it  to  resoun,  it  is  universel  ; 
and  yif  thou  referre  it  or  loke  it  to 
it-self,  than  is  it  singuler.     But  now, 


yif  thou  seyst  thus,  that  yif  it  be  in 
my  ])ower  to  chaunge  my  purpos,  303 
than  shal  I  voide  the  purviaunce  of 
god,  whan  that,  peraventure,  I  shal 
han  chaunged  the  thinges  that  he 
knoweth  biforn,  thanne  slial  I  answerc 
thee  thus.  Certes,  thou  mayst  wel3io 
chaunge  thy  purpos  ;  but,  for  as 
mochel  as  the  present  soothnesse  t)f 
the  devyne  purviaunce  biholdeth  that 
thou  mayst  chaunge  thy  ]iurpos,  and 
whether  thou  wolt  chaunge  it  or  no,  315 
and  whiderward  that  thou  tome  it, 
thou  ne  mayst  nat  eschuen  the  devyne 
prescience  ;  right  as  thou  ne  mayst 
nat  fleen  the  sighte  of  the  presente 
eye,  al-though  that  thou  torne  thy-  320 
self  by  thy  free  wil  in-to  dyverse  ac- 
ciouns.  But  thou  mayst  seyn  ayein : 
"  How  shal  it  thanne  be  ?  Shal  nat 
the  devyne  science  be  chaunged  by 
my  disposicioun,  whan  that  1  wol  o  325 
thing  now,  and  now  another  ?  And 
thilke  prescience,  ne  semeth  it  nat 
to  entrechaunge  stoundes  of  know- 
inge ;  "  '  ^7i  wlio  seith,  ne  shal  it  nat 
seme  to  us,  that  the  devyne  prescience  33° 
entrechaungeth  hise  dyverse  stoundes 
of  knowinge,  so  that  it  knowe  sum- 
tyme  o  thing  and  sum-tyme  the  con- 
trarie  of  that  thing? 

'  No,  forsothe,'  quod  I.  335 

Philosophie.  '  For  the  devyne  sighte 
renneth  to-forn  and  seeth  alle  futures, 
and  clepeth  hem  ayein,  and  retorneth 
hem  to  the  presence  of  his  propre 
knowinge  ;  ne  he  ne  entrechaungeth  340 
nat,  so  as  thou  wenest,  the  stoundes 
of  forknowinge,  as  now  this,  now 
that;  but  he  ay-dwellinge  comth  bi- 
forn, and  embraceth  at  o  strook  alle 
thy  mutaciouns.  And  this  presence  345 
to  comprehenden  and  to  seen  alle 
thinges,  god  ne  hath  nat  taken  it  of 
the  bitydinge  of  thinges  to  come,  but 
of  his  propre  simplicitee.  And  her-by 
is  assoiled  thilke  thing  that  thou  put- 350 
test  a  litel  her-biforn,  that  is  to  seyn, 
that  it  is  unworthy  thing  to  seyn,  that 
our  futures  yeven  cause  t>[  the  science 
of  god.  For  certes,  this  strengthe  of 
the  devyne  science,  which  that  cm- 355 
braceth  alle   thinges  by  his   present- 


BOETHIUS.     BOOK   V. 


arie  knowinge,  establissheth  nianer  to 
alle  thiiiges,  and  it  ne  oweth  naught 
to  latter  thiiiges;    and  sin  that  these 

360  thinges  ben  thus,  that  is  to  seytt,  sin 
that  tiecessitee  tiis  nat  in  thinges  by 
the  devyne  prescience,  than  is  ther 
freedom  of  arbitre,  that  dvvelleth  hool 
and  unvvemmed  to  mortal  men.     Ne 

365  the  lawes  ne  purposen  nat  wikkedly 
medcs  and  peynes  to  the  willinges 
of  men  that  ben  unbounden  and  quite 
of  alle  necessitee.  And  god,  biholder 
and  for-witer  of  alle  thinges,  dwelleth 

370  above;  and  the  present  eternitee  of 
his  sighte  renneth  alvvey  with  the 
dyverse  qualitee  of  oure  dedes,  des- 
pensinge  and  ordeyninge  medes  to 
goode  men,  and  torments  to  wikked 


men.     Ne  in  ydel  ne  in  veyn  ne  ben  375 
ther  nat  put  in  god  hope  and  preyeres, 
that  ne   mowen   nat   ben   unspeedful 
ne   with-oute   effect,  whan   they   ben 
rightful. 

VVithstond  thanne  and  eschue  thou  380 
vyces;    worshipe   and   love   thou  vir- 
tues;    areys    thy    corage    to    rightful 
hopes;    yilde   thou  humble   preyeres 
a-heigh.     Gret  necessitee  of  prowesse 
and    vertu    is    encharged    and    com-  385 
maunded  to  yow,  yif  ye  nil  nat  dis- 
simulen;    sin    that    ye    worken    and 
doon,  that  is  to  seyn,  your  dedes  or 
your  workes,  biforn   the  eyen  of  the 
luge    that    seeth    and    demeth    alle  39° 
thinges.'       To   whom    be  glorye   and 
■worshipe  by  infinit  tyines.     Amen. 


^ 


(f- 


/(^ 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE. 


BOOK   I. 


1.  The  double  sorwe  of  Troilus  to  tellen, 
That  was  the  king   Priamus  sone  of 

Trove, 
In  lovinge,  how  his  aventures  fellen 
Fro  wo  to  wele,  and  after  out  of  loye, 
My  purpos  is,  er  that  I  parte  fro  ye.  5 
Thesiphone,  thou  help   me  for   ten- 

dyte 
Thise   woful    vers,    that   wepen   as    I 

wryle ! 

2.  To  thee  clepe  I,  thou  goddesse  of  tor- 

ment. 

Thou    cruel    Furie,   sorwing   ever   in 
peyne; 

Help  me,  that  am  the  sorwful  instru- 
ment 10 

That    hclpeth    lovers,   as    I    can,    to 
pleyne  ! 

For  wel  sit  it,  the  sothe  for  to  seyne, 
^     A  woful  wi^ht  to  han  a  drery  fere. 

And,  to  a  sorwful  tale,  a  scry  chere. 

3.  For  I,  that  god  of  Loves  servaunts 

serve,  15 

Ne  dar  to  Love,  for  myn  unlyklinesse, 
I'reyen  for  speed,  al  sholde  I  therfor 

sterve. 
So  fer  am  I  fro  his  help  in  derknesse; 
But  nathelees,  if  this  may  doon  glad- 

nesse 
To  any  lover,  and  his  cause  avayle,  20 
Have  he  my  thank,  and  myn  be  this 

travayle ! 

4.  Hut  ye  loveres,  that  bathen  in  glad- 

nesse. 
If  any  drojie  of  |)itee  in  yow  be, 
Renieml)rctli  yow  un  passed  hevinesse 
That  ye  han  felt,  and  on  the  adversitee 


Of  othere  folk,  and  thenketh  how  that 
ye  26 

Han  felt  that  Love  dorste  yow  dis- 
plese; 

Or  ye  han  wonne  him  with  to  greet  an 
ese. 

And  preyeth  for  hem  that  ben  in  the  cas 
Of  Troilus,  as  ye  may  after  here,  30 
That  love  hem  bringe  in  hevene  to 

solas,  >'  ■'" 
And  eek  for  me  preyeth  to  god  so  dere, 
That  I  have  might  to  shewe,  in  som 

manere, 
Swich  peyne  and  wo  as  Loves  folk  en- 
dure. 
In  Troilus  unsely  aventure.  35 

And  biddeth  eek  for  hem  that  been 

despeyred 
In  love,  that  never  nil  recovered  be, 
And   eek   for    hem   that   falsly   been 

apeyred 
Thorugh  wikked  tonges,  be  it  he  or 

she; 
Thus  biddeth  god,  for  his  benignitee, 
To  graunte  hem  sone  out  of  this  world 

to  pace,  41 

That   been   despeyred   out  of  Loves 

grace. 

And  biddeth  eek  for  hem  that  been 

at  ese, 
That  god  hem  graunte  ay  good  per- 

severaunce, 
And  sende  hem  might  hir  ladies  so  to 

plese,  45 

That  it  to  Love  be  worship  and  ple- 

saunce. 
For  so  hope  I  my  soule  best  avaunce, 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     B(30K   I. 


^  1:48-103. 
ort,  tha 


To  preye  for  hem  that    Loves  ser- 

vaunts  be, 
And  wryte  hir  wo,  and  live  in  char- 

itee. 

8.  And  for  to  have  of  hem  compassioun 
As  though  I  were  hir  owene  brother 

dere.  5' 

Now  herkeneth  with  a  gode  enten- 

cioun, 
For  now  wol   I  gon  streight  to  my 

matere, 
In  whiche  ye  may  the  double  sorwes 

here 
Of  Troilus,  in  loving  of  Criseyde,    55 
And  how  that  she  forsook  him  er  she 

deyde. 

9.  It  is  wel  wist,  how  that  the  Grekes 

stronge 
In  armes  with  a  thousand  shippes 

wente 
To  Troyewardes,  and  the  citee  longe 
Assegeden   neigh    ten  yeer  er  they 
stente,  60 

And,  in  diverse  wyse  and  oon  en- 
tente. 
The  ravisshing  to  wreken  of  Eleyne, 
By  Paris  doon,  they  wroughten  al  hir 
peyne. 

10.  Now  fil  it  so,  that  in  the  toun  ther 

was 
Dwelhnge  a  lord  of  greet  auctoritee, 
-A  gret  devyn  that  cleped  was  Cal- 

kas,  66 

That  in  science  so  expert  was,  that 

he 
Knew  wel  that  Troye  sholde  destroyed 

be. 
By  answere  of  his  god,  that  highte 

thus, 
Daun  Phebus  or  Apollo  Delphicus. 

11.  So  whan  this  Calkas  knew  by  cal- 

culinge,  71 

And  eek  by  answere  of  this  Appollo, 
That  Grekes  sholden  swich  a  peple 

bringe, 
Thorugh   which    that    Troye   moste 

been  for-do. 
He  caste  anoon  out  of  the  toun  to 

go;  75 


For  wel  wiste  he,  by  sort,  that  Troye 

sholde 
Destroyed   been,  ye,  wolde   who-so 

nolde. 

12.  For  which,  for  to  departen  softely 
Took   purpos   ful    this   forknowinge 

wyse, 
And  to  the  Grekes  ost  ful  prively  80 
He  stal  anoon;  and  they,  in  curteys 

wyse. 
Him  deden  bothe  worship  and  ser- 

vyse. 
In  trust  that  he  hath  conning  hem  to 

rede 
In  every  peril  which  that  is  to  drede. 

13.  The  noyse  up  roos,  whan  it  was  first 

aspyed,  85 

Thorugh  al  the  toun,  and  generally 

was  spoken, 
That   Calkas   traytor  fled  was,  and 

allyed 
With  hem  of  Grece;    and  casten  to 

ben  wroken 
On  him  that  falsly  hadde  his  feith  so 

broken; 
And  seyden,  he  and  al  his  kin  at 

ones  90 

Ben  worthy  for  to  brennen,  fel  and 

bones. 

14.  Now  hadde  Calkas  left,  in  this  mes- 

chaunce, 
Al  unwist  of  this  false  and  wikked 

dede. 
His  doughter,  which  that  was  in  gret 

penaunce, 
For  of  hir  lyf  she  was  ful  sore  in 

drede,  95 

As  she  that  niste  what  was  best  to 

rede; 
For  bothe  a  widowe  was  she,  and 

allone 
Of  any  freend,  to  whom  she  dorste 

hir  mone. 

15.  Criseyde  was  this  lady  name  a-right; 
As  to  my  dome,  in  al  Troyes  citee 
Nas  noon  so  fair,  for  passing  every 

wight  loi 

So  aungellyk  was  hir  natyf  beautee. 
That  lyk  a  thing  inmortal  semed  she, 


I04-I59-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


213 


As  doth  an  hevenish  parfit  creature, 

That  clduii  were  sent  in  scorning  of 

nature.  105 

16.  This  lady,  wliich  that  al-day  herde 

at  ere 
Hir  fadres  shame,  his  falsnessc  and 

tresoun, 
Wei  nigh  out  of  hir  wit  for  sorwe  and 

fere, 
In    widewes    habit    large    of    saniit 

hroun. 
On  knees  she  fil  biforn  Ector  a-doun; 
With  pitous  voys,  and  tendrely  wep- 

inge,  1 1 1 

His  mercy  bail,  hir-selven  excusinge. 

17.  Now  was  this  Ector  pitous  of  nature. 
And    saw    that    she   was    sorwfully 

bigoon,  114 

And  that  she  was  so  fair  a  creature; 
Of  his  goodnesse  he  gladed  hir  anoon, 
And  seyde,  '  lat  your  fadres  treson 

goon 
Forth  with  mischaunce,  and  ye  your- 
self, in  loye, 
Dvvelleth  with  us,  whyl  you  good  list, 
in  Troye. 

18.  And  al  thonour  that  men  may  doon 

yow  have,  120 

As   ferforth   as  your   fader   dwelled 

here. 
Ye   shul   han,   and  your   body  shal 

men  save. 
As  fer  as  I   may  ought  enquere  or 

here.' 
And  she  him  thonked  with  ful  hum- 
ble chere, 
And  ofter  wolde,  and  it  hadde  ben 

his  wille,  125 

And   took  hir  leve,  and  hoom,  and 

held  hir  stille. 

19.  And    in    hir    hous    she    abood    with 

swich  meynee 
As  to  hir  honour  nede  was  to  holde ; 
And  whyl  she  was  dwellinge  in  that 

citee, 
Kepte  hir  estat,  and  bothe  of  yonge 

and  olde  130 

Ful    wel    beloved,  and  wel    men   of 

hir  tolde. 


But  whether  that  she  children  hadde 

or  noon, 
I  rede  it  nought;   thcrfore  I   Ictc   it 

goon. 

20.  The  thinges  fellen,  as  they  doon  of 

werre, 
Bitwixen  hem  of  Troye  and  Grekes 

ofte;  135 

For  som  day  boughten  they  of  Troye 

it  derre, 
And  eft  the  Grekes  founden  no  thing 

softe 
The  folk  of  Troye;   and  thus  fortune 

on-lofte. 
And  unrier  eft,  gan  hem  to  wheclen 

bothe 
After  hir  cours,  ay  whyl  they  were 

wrothe.  140 

21.  But  how  this  toun  com  to  destruc- 

cioun 
Ne  falleth  nought  to  purpos  me  to 

telle; 
For  it  were  here  a  long  disgressioun 
Fro   my  matere,  and   yow  to  longe 

dwelle. 
But    the    Troyane    gestes,    as    they 

felle,  145 

In  Omer,  or  in  Dares,  or  in  Dyte, 
Who-so  that  can,  may  rede  hem  as 

they  wryte. 

i2.   But  though  that  Grekes  hem  of  Troye 

shetten. 
And  hir  citee  bisegede  al  a-boute, 
Hir    olde     usage    wolde    they    not 

letten,  150 

As  for    to    honoure    hir    goddes    ful 

devoute; 
But    aldermost    in    honour,    out    of 

doute, 
They  hadde  a  relik  hight  Palladion, 
That  was  hir  trist  a-boven  everichon. 

23.  And  so  bifcl,  whan  comen  was  the 
tyme  155 

Of  .\peril,  whan  clothed  is  the  mede 

With  newe  grene,  of  lusty  Ver  the 
pryme. 

And  swote  smellen  floureswhyte  and 
rede. 

In  sondry  wyses  shewed,  as  I  rede. 


214 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


[160-219. 


/ 


The  folk  of  Troye  hir  observaunces 
olcle,  160 

Palladiones  feste  for  to  holde. 

24.  And  to  the  temple,  in  al  hir  beste 

wyse, 
In  general,  ther  wente  many  a  wight, 
To  herknen  of  Palladion  theservyse; 
And  namely,  so  many  a  lusty  knight, 
So  many  a  lady  fresh  and  mayden 

bright,  166 

Ful   wel   arayed,   bothe  moste   and 

leste, 
Ye,  bothe  for  the  seson  and  the  feste. 

25.  Among  thiseothere  folk  was  Criseyda, 
In  widewes  habite  blak;   but  nathe- 

lees,  170 

Right  as  our  firste  lettre  is  now  ^n  A, 
In  beautee  first  so  stood  she,  makelees ; 
Hir   godly  looking   gladede    al   the 

prees. 
Nas  never  seyn  thing  to  ben  preysed 

derre. 
Nor  under  cloude  blak  so  bright  a 

sterre  175 

26.  As    was    Criseyde,    as    folk    seyde 

everichoon 
That  hir  bihelden  in  hir  blake  wede; 
And  yet  she  stood  ful  lowe  and  stille 

alloon,  .J 

Bihinden  othere  folk,  in  litel  brede?' 
And  neigh  the  dore,  ay  under  shames 

drede,  180 

Simple   of  a-tyr,  and   debonaire   of 

chere. 
With  ful  assured  loking  and  manere. 

27.  ThisTroilus,  as  he  was  wont  to  gyde 
His  yonge  knightes,  ladde  hem  up 

and  doun  184 

In  thilke  large  temple  on  every  syde, 
Biholding  ay  the  ladyes  of  the  toun. 
Now  here,  now  there,  for  no  devo- 

cioun 
Hadde  he  to  noon,  to  reven  him  his 

reste,  ""■ 

But  gan  to  preyse  and  lakken  whom 

him  leste. 

28.  And  in  his  walk  ful  fast  he  gan  to 

way ten  190 


If  knight  or  squyer  of  his  companye 
Gan  for  to    syke,  or    lete    his    eyen 

bayten 
On  any  woman  that  he  coude  aspye; 
He  wolde  smyle,  and  holden  it  folye. 
And  seye   him   thus,  'god  wot,   she 

slepeth  softe  195 

For  love  of  thee,  whan  thou  tornest 

ful  ofte ! 

29.  *  I  have  herd  told,  pardieux,  of  your 

livinge, 

Ye  lovers,  and  your  lewede  obser- 
vaunces, 

And  which  a  labour  folk  han  in 
winninge 

Of  love,  and,  in  the  keping,  which 
doutaunces;  200 

And  whan  your  preye  is  lost,  wo  and 
penaunces; 

O  verrey  foles !  nyce  and  blinde  be  ye ; 

Ther  nis  not  oon  can  war  by  other  be.' 

30.  And  with  that  word  he  gan  caste  up 

the  browe, 
Ascaunces,  '  lo  !  is  this  nought  wysly 

spoken?'  205 

At  which  the  god  of  love  gan  loken 

rowe 
Right  for  despyt,  and  shoop  for  to 
1  ben  wroken; 

He  kidde  anoon  his  bowe  nas   not 

broken; 
For  sodeynly  he  hit  him  at  the  fulle; 
And  yet  as  proud  a  pekok  can  he 

pulle.  210 

31.  O    blinde   world,   O    blinde    enten- 

cioun ! 
How  ofte  falleth  al  theffect  contraire 
Of  surquidrye  and  foul  presumpcioun ; 
For  caught  is  proud,  and  caught  is 

debonaire. 
This  Troilus  is  clomben  on  the  staire, 
And  litel  weneth  that  he  moot  des- 

cenden.  216 

But  alday  fayleth  thing    that    fooles 

wenden. 

32.  As  proude   Bayard   ginneth    for   to 

skippe 
Out  of  the  wey,  so  priketh  him  his 
corn, 


220-274-J 


IROILUS   AND    CKISP:VDE.     HOOK    I. 


"5 


Til   he   a   lash    have   of    the   longe 

36. 

And  trewelich  it  sit  wel  to  be  so; 

whippe,                                       220 

For   alderwyscst   han   ther-witii   ben 

Than  theiiketh  he, '  though  I  praunce 

plesed ; 

al  biforn 

And  they  that  han  ben  aldermost  in 

First  ill  the  trays,  ful   fat  and  newe 

woj 

shorn. 

With  love  han  l)en   conforted  most 

Yet  am    I    but  an   hors,   and   horses 

and  esed; 

lawe 

And    ofte    it    hath  the   cruel    herte 

I  moot    endure,  and  with   my  feres 

apesed,                                       250 

drawe.' 

And  worthy  folk  maad  worthier  of 
name, 

33.    So  ferde  it  by  this  fers  and  proude 

And   causeth    most  to  dreden  vyce 

knight;                                       225 

and  shame. 

Though    he   a   worthy   kinges   sone 

were. 

37- 

Now  sith  it  may  not  goodly  be  with- 

And    wende    no-thing    hadde    had 

stonde. 

swiche  might 

And  is  a  thing  so  vertuous  in  kinde, 

Ayens  his  wil  that  sholde  his  herte 

Refuseth  not  to  Love  for  to  be  bonde, 

stere. 

Sin,  as  him-selven  list,  he  may  yow 

Yet   with  a  look  his  herte  wex  a- 

binde.                                         256 

fere. 

The  yerde  is   bet   that  bowen  wole 

That  he,  that  now  was  most  in  pryde 

and  winde 

above,                                       230 

Than  that  that  brest;   and  therfor  I 

Wex  sodeynly  most  subget  un-to  love. 

yow  rede 
To  folwen  him  that  so  wel  can  yow 

34.    For-thy    ensample    taketh    of    this 

lede. 

man. 

Ye  wyse,  proude,  and  worthy  folkes 

38. 

But  for  to  tellen  forth  in  special  260 

alle. 

As  of  this  kinges  sone  of   which   I 

To  scornen  Love,  which  that  so  sone 

tolde. 

can 

And  leten  other  thing  collateral. 

The  freedom  of  your  hertes  to  him 

Of  him  thenke  I  my  tale  for  to  holde. 

thralle;                                        235 

Bothe  of  his  loye,  and  of  his  cares 

For   ever    it  was,  and    ever   it   shal 

colde; 

bifalle. 

And   al    his  werk,  as  touching  this 

That  Love  is  he  that  alle  thing  may 

matere,                                     265 

binde; 

For  I  it  gan,  I  wil  ther-to  refere. 

For  may  no  man  for-do  the  lawe  of 

kinde. 

39- 

With-inne  the  temple  he  wente  him 
forth  pleyinge,                          c^^- 

35.   That  this  be  sooth,  hath  preved  and 

This  Troilus,  of  every  wight  aboute, 

doth  yit; 

On  this  lady  and  now  on  that  lok- 

For  this  trowe  I  ye  knowen,  alle  or 

inge. 

some,                                           240 

Wher-so  she  were  of  toune,  or   of 

Men  reden  not  that  folk  han  gretter 

with-oute :                                270 

wit 

And  up-on  cas  bifel,  that  thorugh  a 

Than   they  that   han    be  most  with 

route 

love  y-nome; 

His  eye  perced,  and  so  depe  it  wente. 

And    streiigest     folk    ben     therwith 

Til  on  Criseyde  it  smoot,  and  ther  it 

overcome, 

stente. 

The  worthiest  and  grettest  of  degree; 

This  was,  and  is,  and  yet  men  shal 

40. 

And    sodeynly    he    wex    ther-with 

it  see.                                        245 

astoned, 

-n 


2l6 


TROILUS   AND   CRLSEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


[275-327. 


And  gan  hire  bet  biholde  in  thrifty 

wyse :  275 

'  O  mercy,  god  !  '  thoughte  he, '  wher 

hastow  woned. 
That  art  so  fair  and  goodly  to  de- 

vyse  ? ' 
Ther-vvith    his  herte  gan  to  sprede 

and  ryse. 
And  softe   sighed,  lest  men  mighte 

him  here. 
And  caughte  a-yein  his  firste  pleyinge 

chere.  280 

41.  She   nas  not  with  the   leste    of   hir 

stature, 
But  alle  hir  limes  so  vvel  answeringe 
Weren  to  womanhode,  that  creature 
Was  never  lasse  mannish  in  seminge. 
And  eek  the  pure  wyse  of  here 
meninge  285 

Shewed  wel,  that  men  might  in  her 

gesse 
Honour,   estat,  and   wommanly  no- 
blesse. 

42.  To  Troilus   right  wonder  vvel  with- 

alle 
Gan  for  to  lyke  hir  mening  and  hir 

chere. 
Which  somrlel  deynous  was,  for  she 

leet  falle  290 

Hir    look    a    lite    a-side,    in    swich 

manere, 
Ascaunces,     '  what !      may     I      not 

stonden  here?' 
And   after  that  hir  loking   gan  she 

lighte, 
That  never  thoughte    him    seen    so 

good  a  sighte. 

43.  And  of  hir  look  in  him  ther  gan  to 

quiken  295 

So  greet  desir,  and  swich  affeccioun 
That   in    his   hertes   botme   gan    to 

stiken 
Of   hir    his    fixe    and    depe    impres- 

sioun  : 
And  though  he  erst  hadde   poured 

up  and  doun, 
He  was  tho  glad   his  homes  in  to 

shrinke;  300 

Unnethes  wiste  he  how  to  loke  or 

winke. 


44.  Lo,  he  that  leet  him-selven  so  kon- 

ninge, 
And  scorned  hem  that  loves  peynes 

dryen. 
Was  ful  unwar  that  love  hadde  his 

dwellinge 
With-inne  the  subtile  stremes  of  hir 

yen;  305 

That  sodeynly  him  thoughte  he  felte 

dyen, 
Right   with    hir    look,  the  spirit   in 

his  herte; 
Blessed  be  love,  that  thus  can  folk 

converte ! 

45.  She,  this  in  blak,  lykinge  to  Troilus, 
Over    alle    thing    he    stood    for    to 

biholde;  310 

Ne  his  desir,  ne  wherfor  he  stood 

thus, 
He  neither  chere  made,  ne  worde 

tolde; 
But    from    a-fer,    his   maner   for   to 

holde, 
On  other  thing  his  look  som-tyme 

he  caste. 
And  eft  on  hir,  whyl    that   servyse 

laste,  315 

46.  And     after    this,    not     fuUiche     al^ 

awhaped,  {y^ 

Out    of   the    temple   al   esiliche   he 

wente, 
Repentinge  him  that  he  hadde  ever 

y-iaped 
Of  loves  folk,  lest  fully  the  descente 
Of  scorn  fille  on  him-self;  but,  what 

he  mente,  320 

Lest    it    were    wist   on   any   maner 

syde, 
His    wo    he    gan    dissimulen     and 

hyde. 

47.  Whan  he  was  fro  the  temple  thus 

departed, 
He  streyght  anoon  un-to  his  paleys 

torneth, 
Right   with   hir  look    thurgh-shoten 

and  thurgh-darted,  325 

Al  feyneth  he  in  lust  that  he  soiorn- 

eth; 
And  al  his  chere  and  speche  also  he 

borneth; 


> 


328-3S2.]                  TROILUS   AND   CRLSEYDE.     ROOK    I.                             217 

And  ay,  of  loves  servants  every  whyle, 

That  othere    besye    nedes   him    de- 

Him-sclf  to  wrye,  at  hem  he  gan  to 

strayne.l;                                    355 

smyle. 

tor  wo  was  him,  that  what  to  doon 
he  nistc. 

48. 

And  seyde,  '  lord,  so  ye  live   al   in 

But  bad  his  folk  to  goon  wher  that 

lest,                                             330 

hem  liste. 

Ye   loveres !    for   the   conningest    of 

yow, 

52. 

And  whan  that  he  in  chaumbre  was 

That  serveth  most  ententiflich   and 

allone, 

best,                       .jAi^X-— ^ 

He  doun  up-on  his  beddes  feet  him 

Him  tit  as   often    harm   ther-of  as 

sette. 

prow ; 

And  first  he  gan  to  syke,  and  eft  to 

Your  hyre  is  quit  ayein,  ye,  god  wot 

grone,                                         360 

how! 

And  thoughte  ay  on  hir   so,  with- 

Nought  wel  for  vvel,  but  scorn  for 

outen  lette. 

good  servyse;                            335 

That,  as  he  sat  and  wook,  his  spirit 

In  feith,  your  ordre  is  ruled  in  good 

mette       '^-"-^  -  -^^ 

wyse ! 

That  he  hir  saw  a  temple,  and  al  the 

49. 

In   noun-certeyn  ben  alle  your  ob- 

wysc 
Right  of  hir  loke,  and  gan  it  newe 

servaunces. 

avyse. 

i<:^ 

But  it  a  sely  fewe  poyntes  be; 

Ne  no-thing  asketh  so  grete  attend- 

53- 

Thus  gan  he  make  a  mirour  of  his 

aunces 

minde,                                        365 

As  doth  your  lay,   and  that  knowe 

In   which    he   saugh    al    hoolly   hir 

alle  ye;                                       340 

figure; 

But  that  is  not  the  worste,  as  mote 

And  that  he  wel  coude  in  his  herte 

I  thee; 

finde. 

But,  tolde  I  yow  the  worste  poynt,  I 

It  was  to  him  a  right  good  aven- 

leve, 

ture 

Al  seyde  I  sooth,  ye  wolden  at  me 

To  love  swich  oon,  and  if  he  dide 

greve ! 

his  cure 
To  serven  hir,  yet  mighte  he  falle  in 

50- 

But   tak    this,  that   ye   loveres  ofte 

grace,                                        370 

eschuwe. 

Or   elles,  for  oon    of  hir  servaunts 

Or  elles  doon  of  good  entencioun, 

pace. 

Ful   ofte   thy  lady  wole    it    miscon- 

strue,                                         346 

54- 

Imagininge  that  travaille  nor  grame 

And  deme  it  harm  in  hir  opinioun; 

Ne  mighte,  for  so  goodly  oon,  be  lorn 

And  yet  if  she,  for  other  enchesoun,f 

n^ 

As    she,    ne    him    for    his    desir    ne 

Be  wrooth,  than  shalt  thou   han    a 

shame. 

groyn  anoon  : 

Al  were  it  wist,  but  in  prys  and  up- 

Lord I  wel  is  him  that  may  be  of  yow 

born                                          375 

oon ! '                                          350 

Of  alle  lovers  wel  more  than  biforn; 
Thus  argumented  he  in  his  ginninge. 

51- 

But  for  al  this,  whan  that  he  say  his 
tyme, 

Ful  unavysed  of  his  wo  cominge. 

He    held    his  pees,  non  other  bote 

55- 

Thus  took  he  purpos  loves  craft  to 

him  gayned; 

suwe. 

For    love    bigan   his   fetheres  so    to 

And    thoughte    he    wolde     werken 

lyme. 

prively,                                       3S0 

That  wel  unnethe  un-to  his  folk  he 

First,  to  hyden  his  desir  in  muwe 

feyned 

From  every  wight  y-born,  al-outrely, 

<-^ 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  I. 


[383-441. 


But  he  mighte  ought  recovered  be 

therby; 
Remembring  him,  that  love  to  wyde 

y-blowe 
Yelt  bittre  fruyt,  though  swete  seed 

be  sovve.  385 

56.  And  over  al  this,  yet  muchel  more 

he  thoughte 
What    for   to    speke,    and   what    to 

holden  inne, 
And  what  to  arten  hir  to   love    he 

soughte. 
And    on    a    song     anoon-right     to 

biginne, 
And  gan  loude  on  his  sorwe  for  to 

winne ;  39° 

For  with  good  hope   he   gan   fully 

assente 
Criseyde    for   to   love,   and    nought 

repente. 

57.  And  of  his  song   nought   only   the 

sentence. 
As  writ  myn  autour  called  Lollius, 
But  pleynly,  save  our  tonges  differ- 
ence, 395 
I  dar  wel  sayn,  in  al  that  Troilus 
Seyde  in  his  song;    lo !  every  word 

right  thus 
As  I  shal  seyn ;  and  who-so  list  it  here, 
Lo !  next  this  vers,  he  may  it  finden 
here. 

Cantus  Troili. 

58.  '  If  no  love  is,  O  goH,  what  fele  I  so? 
And  if  love  is,  what  thing  and  whiche 

is  he?  401 

If  love  be  good,  from  whennes  comth 

my  wo? 
If  it  be  wikke,  a  wonder  thinketh  me, 
Whenne  every  torment  and  adversitee 
That  Cometh  of  him,  may  to  me  savory 

thinke;  405 

For  ay  thurste  I,  the  more  that  I  it 

drinke. 

59.  And  if  that   at  myn   owene   lust   I 

brenne, 
Fro    whennes    cometh    my   wailing 

and  my  pleynte? 
If  harme  agree  me,  wher-to  pleyne  I 

thenne? 


I  noot,  ne  why  unwery  that  I  feynte. 
O   quike   deeth,   o   swete    harm   so 

queynte,  411 

How    may    of   thee    in    me    swich 

quantitee, 
But-if  that  I  consente  that  it  be? 

60.  And  if  that  I  consente,  I  wrongfully 
Compleyne,  y-wis;    thus    possed   to 

and  fro,  415  | 

Al  sterelees  with-inne  a  boot  am  I 
A-mid    the    see,    by-twixen    windes 

two, 
That  in  contrarie  stonden  ever-mo. 
Alias!  what  is  this  wonder  maladye? 
For  hete  of  cold,  for  cold  of  hete, 

I  dye.'  420 

61.  And  to  the  god  of  love  thus  seyde  he 
With    pitous    voys,    •  O    lord,    now 

youres  is 
My  spirit,  which  that  oughte  youres 

be. 
Vow  thanke  I,  lord,  that   han   me 

brought  to  this; 
But  whether  goddesse  or   womman, 

y-wis,  425 

She  be,  I  noot,  which  that  ye  do  me 

serve; 
But  as  hir  man  I  wole  ay  live  and 

sterve. 

62.  Ye  stonden  in  hire  eyen  mightily, 
As  in  a  place  un-to  your  vertu  digne; 
Wherfore,  lord,  if  my  servyse  or  I  430 
May  lyke   yow,  so  beth  to  me  be- 

nigne; 
For  myn  estat  royal  here  I  resigne 
In-to  hir  hond,  and  with  ful  humble 

chere 
Bicome  hir  man,  as  to  my  lady  derc' 

63.  In  him  ne  deyned  sparen  blood  royal 
The  fyr  of  love,  wher-fro    god    me 

blesse,  436 

Ne  him  forbar  in  no  degree,  for  al 
His  vertu  or  his  excellent  prowesse; 
But  held  him  as  his  thral   lowe    in 

distresse. 
And  brende  him  so  in  sondry  wyse 

ay  newe,  440 

That  sixty  tyme  a  day  he  loste  his 

hewe. 


J 


442-49S.J 


TROILUS   AND   CRISKVDE.     BOOK    I. 


219 


f 


64.  So   muclie,  (lay  by  day,  his  owene 
thouj^ht, 

For  lust    to    hir    gan    quiken    and 

encrese, 
That  every  other  charge  he  sette  at 

nought; 
For-thy  ful  ofte,  his  hote  fyr  to  cese, 
To  scL-n  hir  goodly  look   he  gan  to 
vfr^  prcse ;  446 

For  thcr-by  to  ben  esed  wel  he  wende, 
And  ay  the  ner  he  was,  the  more  he 

brende. 

65.  For  ay  the  ner  the  fyr,  the  hotter  is. 
This,  trowe  I,  knoweth  al  this  com- 

panye.  450 

But  were  he  fer  or  neer,  I  dar  seye 

this, 
By  night  or  day,  for  wysdom  or  folye, 
His  herte,  which  that  is  his  brestes  ye. 
Was  ay  on  hir,  that  fairer  was  to  sene 
Than  ever  was  Eleyne  or  Polixene. 

66.  Eek  of  the  day  ther  passed  nought 
an  houre  456 

That  to  him-self  a  thousand  tyme  he 

seyde, 
'  Good  goodly,  to  whom  serve  I  and 

laboure, 
As    I    best    can,    now    wolde    god, 

Criseyde, 
Ye  wolden   on  me  rewe   er   that    I 

deyde !  460 

My  dere  herte,  alias !  myn  hele  and 

he  we 
And  lyf  is  lost,  but  ye  wole  on  me 

rewe.' 

67.  AUe  othere  dredes  weren  from  him 
fledde, 

Bothe  of  the  assege  and  his  savacioun ; 
Ne  in  him  desyr  noon  othere  fownes 

bredde  465 

But  arguments  to  this  conclusioun, 
That  she  on   him   wolde   han    com- 

passioun. 
And  he  to  be  hir  man,  whyl  he  may 

dure; 
Lo,  here  his  lyf,  and  from  the  deeth 

his  cure  ! 

68.  The   sharpe  shoures  felle  of  armes 
preve,  470 


That  Ector  or  his  othere  bretheren 

(liden, 
Ne   made    him    only   ther-for    ones 

meve; 
And  yet  was  he,  wher-so  men  wente 

or  riden, 
Founde   oon   the   best,   and    lengest 

tyme  abiden 
Ther  peril  was,  and  dide  eek   such 

travayle  475 

In    armes,    that   to    thenke    it    was 

mervayle. 

69.  But  for  non  hate  he  to  the  Grekes 

hadde, 
Ne  also  for  the  rescous  of  the  toun, 
Ne  made  him  thus  in  armes  for  to 

madde, 
But  only,  lo,  for  this  conclusioun,  480 
To  lyken  hir  the  bet  for  his  renoun; 
Fro  day  to  day  in  armes  so  he  spedde. 
That  alle  the  Grekes  as  the    deeth 

him  dredde. 

70.  And  fro  this  forth  tho  refte  him  love 

his  sleep. 
And  made  his  mete,   his    foo;    and 

eek  his  sorwe  485 

Gan    multiplye,    that,    who-so    toke 

keep. 
It  shewed  in  his  hewe,  bothe  eve  and 

morwe; 
Therfora  title  began  him  for  to  borwe 
Of  other  syknesse,  lest  of  him  men 

wende 
That  the  hote  fyr  of  love  him  brende. 

71.  And  seyde,  he  hadde  a   fever   and 

ferde  amis;  491 

But  how  it  was,  certayn,  can  I  not 

seye, 
If  that  his  lady  understood  not  this, 
Or  feyned  hir  she  niste,  oon  of  the 

tweye ; 
But  wel  I  rede   that,  by  no   maner 

weye,  495 

Ne  semed  it  [as]  that   she  of  him 

roughte. 
Nor  of  his  peyne,  or  what-so-evcr  he 

thoughte. 

72.  But  than  fel  to  this   Troylus    such 

wo. 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


[499-552 


That  he  was  wel  neigh  wood ;   for  ay 

his  drede 
Was   this,  that   she   som  wight   had 

loved  so,  500 

That  never  of  him  she  wolde  have 

taken  hede; 
For  whiche  him  thoughte  he  felte  his 

herte  blede. 
Ne    of    his   wo    ne    dorste    he    not 

biginne 
To    tellen   it,    for   al    this  world   to 


73.  But  whanne  he  hadde   a  space  fro 

his  care,  5'-'5 

Thus  to  him-self  ful  ofte  he  gan  to 

pleyne; 
He  sayde,  'O  fool,  now  art  thou  in 

the  snare, 
That  whilom  lapedest  at  loves  peyne; 
Now    artow    hent,    now    gnaw    thyn 

owene  cheyne;  ^,.*»-^ 
Thou  were  ay  wont  eche  lovere  re- 

prehende  510 

Of  thing  fro  which  thou  canst  thee 

nat  defende. 

74.  What  wole  now  every  lover  seyn  of 

thee, 

If  this  be  wist,  but  ever  in  thyn  ab- 
sence 

Laughen  in  scorn,  and  seyn,  "  lo, 
ther  gooth  he,  514 

That  is  the  man  of  so  gret  sapience, 

That  held  us  loveres  leest  in  rever- 
ence ! 

Now,  thonked  be  god,  he  may  goon 
in  the  daunce 

Of  hem  that  Love  list  febly  for  to 
avaunce ! 

75.  But,0  thou  woful  Troilus,  god  wolde, 
Sin   thow   most   loven    thurgh    thy 

destinee,  520 

That  thow  beset  were  on  swich  oon 

that  sholde 
Knowe   al   thy   wo,  al  lakkede   hir 

pitee : 
But   al   so    cold    in    love,   towardes 

thee. 
Thy  lady  is,  as  frost  in  winter  mone, 
And  thou  fordoon,  as  snow  in  fyr  is 

sone."  525 


76.  God  wolde  I  were  aryved  in  the  port 
Of  deeth,  to  which  my  sorwe  wil  me 

lede  ! 

A,  lord,  to  me  it  were  a  greet  com- 
fort; 

Then  were  I  quit  of  languisshing  in 
drede. 

For  by  myn  hidde  sorwe  y-blowe  on 
brede  530 

I  shal  bi-Iaped  been  a  thousand  tyme 

More  than  that  fool  of  whos  folye 
men  ryme. 

77.  But  now  help  god,  and  ye,  swete,  for 

whom 
I  pleyne,  y-caught,  ye,  never  wight 

so  faste  ! 
O  mercy,  dere  herte,  and   help   me 

from  535 

The  deeth,  for  I,  whyl  that   my  lyf 

may  laste. 
More  than  my-self  wol  love  yow  to 

my  laste. 
And  with  som  freendly  look  gladeth 

me,  swete. 
Though  never  more  thing  ye  me  bi- 

hete ! ' 

78.  This  wordes  and  ful  manye  an-other 

to  540 

He  spak,  and  called  ever  in  his  com- 

pleynte 
Hir  name,  for  to  tellen  hir  his  wo, 
Til    neigh    that    he    in    salte    teres 

dreynte. 
Al  was  for  nought,  she  herde  nought 

his  pleynte; 
And  whan    that    he    bithoughte    on 

that  folye,  545 

A  thousand  fold  his  wo  gan  multiplye. 

79.  Bi-wayling  in  his  chambre  thus   al- 

lone, 

A  freend  of  his,  that  called  was  Pan- 
dare, 

Com  ones  in  unwar,  and  herde  him 
grone. 

And  sey  his  freend  in  swich  dis- 
tresse  and  care :  550 

'  Alias  !  '  quod  he,  '  who  causeth  al 
this  fare? 

O  mercy, god!  what  unhap  may  this 
mene? 


553-607-] 


TKOILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


Han    now  thus  sone    Grekes   maad 
yow  lene? 

80.  Or  hastow  som  remors  of  conscience, 
And  art  now  falle  in  som  devocioun, 
And  waylest  for  thy  sirine  and  thyn 

offence,  556 

And  hast  for  ferde  caught  attricioun? 
God  save  hem  that  bi-seged  han  our 

toun, 
And  so  can  leye  our  lolyteonpresse. 
And   bring   our   lusty  folk,   to   holi- 

nesse ! '  560 

81.  These  wordes  seyde  he  for  the  nones 

alle. 
That   with   swich    thing   he   mighte 

him  angry  maken. 
And  with    an    angre   don  his  sorwe 

falle, 
As   for   the   tyme,   and    his    corage 

awaken ; 
But  wel  he  wiste,  as  fer   as   tonges 

spaken,  565 

Ther  nas  a  man  of  gretter  hardinesse 
Than    he,  ne    more    desired  worthi- 

nesse. 

82.  '  What  cas,'  quod  Troilus,  *  or  what 

aventure 
Hath  gyded  thee  to  see  my  languissh- 

inge. 
That  am  refus  of  every  creature?  570 
But  for  the  love  of  god,  at  my  prey- 

inge, 
Go  hcnne  a-way,  for  certes,  my  dey- 

inge 
Wol  thee  disese,  and  I  mot  nedes 

deye ; 
Ther-for  go  wey,  ther  is  no  more  to 

seye. 

S3.    But  if  thou  wene  I  be  thus  syk  for 

drede,  575 

It    is    not   so,   and  ther-for   scorne 

nought; 
Ther  is  a-nother  thing  I  take  of  hede 
Wel    more    than    ought  the  Grekes 

han  y-wrought. 
Which   cause    is   of  my   death,   for 

sorwe  and  thought. 
But  though  that  I  now  telle  thee  it 

nc  kste,  580 


Be  thou  nought  wrooth,  I  hyde  it  for 
the  beste.' 

84.  This  Pandare,  that  neigh  malt  for  wo 

and  routhe, 
Ful  often  seyde,  'alias!    what  may 

this  be? 
Now  freend,'  quod  he,  '  if  ever  love 

or  trouthe 
Hath  been,  or  is,  bi-twixen  thee  and 

me,  5  85 

Ne  do  thou  never  swiche  a  crueltee 
To  hyde  fro  thy  freend  so  greet  a  care  ; 
Wostow  nought  wel    that    it   am  I, 

Pandare  ? 

85.  I    wole    parten    with    thee    al    thy 

peyne, 
If  it  be  so  I  do  thee  no  comfort,  590 
As  it  is  freendes  right,  sooth  for  to 

seyne. 
To  entreparten  wo,  as  glad  desport. 
I  have,  and  shal,  for  trewe  or  fals 

report, 
In  wrong  and  right  y-loved  thee  al 

my  lyve; 
Hyd  not  thy  wo  fro  me,  but  telle  it 

blyve.'  595 

86.  Than  gan  this  sorwful  Troilus  to  syke. 
And  seyde  him  thus,  '  god  leve  it  be 

my  beste 
To  telle  it  thee;   for,  sith  it  may  thee 

lyke, 
Yet  wole  I  telle  it,  though  myn  herte 

breste; 
And  wel  wot  I  thou  mayst  do  me  no 

reste.  600 

But  lest  thow  deme  I  truste  not  to 

thee. 
Now  herkne,  freend,  for  thus  it  stant 

with  me. 

87.  Love,  a-yeins  the  which  who-so  de- 

fendeth 
Him-selven     most,    him     alder-lest 

avayleth, 
With  desespeir  so  sorwfully  me  of- 

fendcth,  605 

That  streyght  un-to  the  deeth  myn 

herte  sayleth. 
Ther-to  desyr  so  brenningly  me  as- 

saylleth, 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


[608-663. 


That  to  ben  slayn  it  were  a  gretter 

loye 
To  me  than  king  of  Grece  been  and 

Troye ! 

88.  Suffiseth    this,  my  fulle  freend  Pan- 

dare,  610 

That  I  have   seyd,  for   now  wostow 

my  wo; 
And  for  the  love  of  god,  my  colde 

care 
So  hyd  it  wel,  I  telle  it  never  to  mo; 
For  harmes  mighte  folwen,  mo  than 

two, 
If  it  were  wist;   but  be  thou  in  glad- 

nesse,  615 

And  lat  me  starve,  unknowe,  of  my 

distresse.' 

89.  '  How   hastow   thus   unkindely  and 

longe 
Hid    this    fro   me,  thou  fool  ? '  quod 

Pandarus; 
'Paraunter  thou  might  after  swich  oon 

longe. 
That  myn  avys  anoon  may  helpen  us.' 
'This  were  a   wonder    thing,'   quod 

Troilus,  621 

'Thou    coudest   never   in  love  thy- 

selven  wisse; 
How  devel  maystow  bringen  me  to 

blisse?' 

90.  '  Ye,  Troilus,  now  herke,'  quod  Pan- 

dare, 
'Though    I    be    nyce;     it    happeth 

ofte  so,  625 

That  oon  that  exces  doth  ful  yvele 

fare 
By  good  counseyl  can  kepe  his  freend 

ther-fro. 
I  have  my-self  eek  seyn  a  blind  man  go 
Ther-as  he  fel  that  coude  loke  wyde; 
A  fool  may  eek  a  wys  man  ofte  gyde. 

91.  A   whetston   is   no    kerving    instru- 

ment, 631 

And  yet  it  maketh  sharpe  kerving- 

tolis. 
And    ther   thow  woost   that   I   have 

ought  miswent, 
Eschevve  thou  that,  for  swich  thing 

to  thee  scole  is;  634 


Thus  ofte  wyse  men  ben  war  by  folis. 
If  thou  do  so,  thy  wit  is  wel  biwared; 
By  his  contrarie  is  every  thing  de- 
clared. 

92.  For  how  might  ever  sweetnesse  have 

be  knowe 

To  him  that  never  tasted  bitternesse? 

Ne  no  man  may  be  inly  glad,  I  trowe, 

That  never  was  in  sorwe  or  som  dis- 
tresse ;  64 1 

Eek  whyt  by  blak,  by  shame  eek 
worthinesse, 

Ech  set  by  other,  more  for  other 
semeth ; 

As  men  may  see;  and  so  the  wyse 
it  deemeth. 

93.  Sith    thus   of    two    contraries   is   a 

lore,  645 

I,  that  have  in  love  so  ofte  assayed 
Grevaunces,  oughte  conne,  and  wel 

the  more 
Counsayllen   thee   of  that   thou  art 

amayed. 
Eek   thee   ne   oughte  nat  ben  yvel 

apayed. 
Though  I  desyre  with  thee   for   to 

bere  650 

Thyn  hevy  charge;  it  shal  the  lasse 

dere. 

94.  I  woot  wel  that  it  fareth  thus  by  me 
As  to  thy  brother  Parys  an  herdesse, 
Which  that  y-cleped  was  Oenone, 
Wrot   in  a  compleynt   of  hir   hevi- 

nesse :  655 

Ye  say  the  lettre  that  she  wroot,  y 

gesse  ? ' 
'  Nay,  never  yet,  I-wis,'  quod  Troilus. 
'Now,'  quod  Pandare,  'herkneth;   it 

was  thus.  — 

95.  "  Phebus,  that  first  foni  art  of  medi- 

cyne," 
Quod    she,    "  and    coude    in    every 

wightes  care  660 

Remede    and    reed,   by   herbes    he 

knew  fyne. 
Yet  to  him-self  his  conninge  was  ful 

bare ; 
For  love  hadde  him  so  bounden  in  a 

snare. 


664-717-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


223 


Al   for   the   doughter   of  the  kinge 

Of  trouthe,  and  for-thy  wolde  I  fayn 

Admete, 

remeve 

That  al  his  craft  ne  coude  his  sorvve 

Thy  wrong  conceyte,  and  do   thee 

bete." —                                   665 

som  wight  triste. 
Thy  wo  to  telle;  and  tel  me,  if  thee 

96. 

Right  so  fare  I,  unhappily  for  me; 
I  love  oon  best,  and  that  me  smerteth 

liste. 

sore; 

100.   The  wyse  seyth,   "wo  him   that  is 

And  yet,  paraunter,  can  I  rede  thee, 

allone, 

And   not    niy-self;     repreve    me  no 

For,  and  he  falle,  he  hath  noon  help 

more. 

to  ryse;  "                                695 

I  have  no  cause,  I  wool  wel,  for  to 

And  sith  thou  hast  a  felawe,  tel  thy 

sore                                           670 

mone; 

As  doth  an  hauk  that  listeth  for  to 

For  this  nis  not,  certeyn,  the  nexte 

pleye. 

wyse 

But  to  thyn  help  yet  somwhat  can  I 

To  winnen  love,  as  techen  us   the 

seye. 

wyse. 
To  walwe  and  wepe  as   Niobe  the 

97- 

And  of  0  thing  right  siker  niaystow 

quene. 

be, 

Whos   teres   yet    in  marbel    been 

That   certayn,  for   to   deyen  in  the 

y-sene.                                   700 

peyne. 

That   I    shal    never-mo    discoveren 

lOl.    Lat  be  thy  weping  and  thy  dreri- 

thee;                                         675 

nesse, 

Ne,  by  my  trouthe,  I  kepe  nat   re- 

And  lat  us    lissen   wo    with    other 

streyne 

speche; 

Thee  fro  thy  love,  thogh  that  it  were 

So  may  thy  woful  tyme  seme  lesse. 

Eleyne 

Delyte  not  in  wo  thy  wo  to  seche, 

That  is  thy  brotheres  wyf,  if  ich  it 

As  doon  thise  foles  that  hir  sorwes 

wiste ; 

eche                                        705 

Be  what  she  be,  and  love  hir  as  thee 

With  sorwe,  whan  they  han  misaven- 

liste. 

ture, 
And  listen   nought   to   seche  hem 

98. 

Therfore,  as   freend  fullich   in   me 
assure,                                      680 

other  cure. 

And   tel   me  plat  what  is  thyn  en- 

102.   Men  seyn,  "  to  wrecche  is  consola- 

chesoun,      ^cc*.-.«-»^-r 

cioun 

And  final  cause  of  wo  that  ye  endure ; 

To   have    an-other    felawe    in    his 

For   douteth   no-thing,  myn   enten- 

peyne;  " 

cioun 

That  oughte  wel  ben  our  opinioun. 

Nis  nought  to  yow  of  reprehencioun. 

For,  bothe  thou  and  I,  of  love  we 

To  speke  as  now,  for  no  wight  may 

pleyne;                                   711 

bireve                                       685 

So  ful  of  sorwe  am  I,  soth   for  to 

A  man  to  love,  til  that  him  list  to 

seyne, 

leve. 

That  certeynly  no  more  harde  grace 
May  sitte  on  me,  for-why  ther  is  no 

99- 

And  witeth  wel,  that  bothe  two  ben 
vyces. 

space. 

Mistrusten  alle,  or  elles  alle  leve; 

103.    If  god  wole  thou  art  not  agast  of 

But  wel  I  woot,  the  mene  of  it  no 

me,                                          715 

vyce  is. 

Lest  I  wolde  of  thy  lady  thee  bigyle. 

For   for   to  trusten  sum  wight  is  a 

Thow  wost  thy-self  whom  that  I  love. 

preve                                        Cyo 

pardee, 

224 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


[718-773- 


As  I  best  can,  gon  sithen  longe  whyle, 

Fro  thing  which  in  effect  men  hunte 

And   sith  thou  wost  I  do  it  for  no 

faste ; 

vvyle, 

Al  this  gan   Troilus   in   his   herte 

And  sith  I  am  he  that  thou  tristest 

caste. 

most,                                         720 

Tel  me  sumwhat,  sin  al  my  wo  thou 

loS.   But  nathelees,  whan  he  had  herd 

wost.' 

him  crye                                 750 

'  Awake ! '   he  gan  to  syke  wonder 

104.   Yet   Troilus,  for   al   this,  no  word 

sore, 

seyde, 

And  seyde,  '  freend,  though  that  I 

But  longe  he  lay  as  stille  as  he  ded 

stille  lye, 

were ; 

I  am  not  deef;   now  pees,  and  cry 

And    after    this   with   sykinge    he 

no  more; 

abreyde. 

For  I    have  herd  thy  wordes  and 

And  to  Pandarus  voys  he  lente  his 

thy  lore; 

•  ere,                                          725 

But  suffre  me   my  mischef  to  bi- 

And    up  his  eyen  caste  he,  that  in 

wayle,                                       755 

fere 

For  thy  proverbes  may  me  nought 

\Yas  Pandarus,  lest  that  in  frenesye 

avayle. 

He  sholde  falle,  or  elles  sone  dye : 

109.   Nor  other  cure  canstow  noon  for 

105.   And   cryde   'awake'  ful   wonderly 

me. 

and  sharpe; 

Eek  I  nil  not  be  cured,  I  wol  deye; 

'  What?    slombrestow  as  in   a  lyt- 

What  knowe  I  of  the  quene  Niobe? 

argye?                                     730 

Lat  be  thyne  olde  ensaumples,  I  thee 

Or  artow  lyk  an  asse  to  the  harpe, 

preye.'                                    760 

That   hereth   soun,  whan  men  the 

*  No,'  quod  tho  Pandarus,  '  therfore 

strenges  plye. 

I  seye. 

But  in  his  minde  of  that  no  melodye 

Swich  is  delyt  of  foles  to  biwepe 

May  sinken,  him  to  glade,  for  that  he 

Ilir   wo,   but   seken   bote  they  ne 

So  dul  is  of  his  bestialitee?'        735 

kepe. 

106.    And  with  that  Pandare  of  his  wordes 

no.   Now  knowe  I  that  ther  reson   in 

stente; 

thee  fayleth. 

But  Troilus  yet  him  no  word    an- 

But   tel   me,  if   I  wiste   what   she 

swerde, 

were                                        765 

For-why  to  telle  nas  not  his  entente 

For  whom  that  thee  al  this  misaunter 

To  never  no  man,  for  whom  that  he 

ayleth  ? 

so  ferde. 

Dorstestow  that  I  tolde  hir  in  hir 

For  it  is  seyd,  '  man  maketh  ofte  a 

ere 

yerde                                         740 

Thy  wo,  sith  thou  darst  not  thy-self 

With  which  the  maker   is  him-self 

for  fere. 

y-beten 

And  hir  bisoughte  on  thee  to  han 

In   sondry    maner,'  as   thise    wyse 

som  routhe?' 

treten, 

'  Why,  nay,'  quod  he,  '  by  god  and 

by  my  trouthe  ! '                     770 

107.    And  namely,  in  his  counseyl  tellinge 

That  toucheth  love  that  oughte  be 

III.   'What?  not  as  bisily,'  quod  Pan- 

secree; 

darus, 

For  of  him-self  it  wolde  y-nough 

'  As  though  myn  owene  lyf  lay  on 

out-springe,                             745 

this  nede?  ' 

But-if  that  it  the  bet  governed  be. 

*  No,    certes,    brother,'    quod    this 

Eek  som-tyme  it  is  craft  to  seme  flee 

Troilus. 

7  74-826.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISKVDE.     BOOK   I. 


i2$ 


'  And    why  ?  '  —  '  For    that    thou 

sholdest  never  spede.' 
'  Wostow  that  vvel?   — '  Ye,  that  is 

outofdrede,'  775 

Quod  Troilus,  '  for  al  that  ever  ye 

conne, 
She  nil  to  noon  swich  wrecche  as  I 

be  wonne.' 

112.  Quod  Pandarus,  'alias!  what  may 

this  be, 
That  thou  despeyred  art  thus  cause- 
lees? 
What?  liveth  not  thy  lady?  />ene- 
diciie!  780 

How    wostow    so    that    thou     art 

gracelees? 
Swich  yvel  is  not  alwey  botelees. 
Why,  put  not  impossible  thus  thy 

cure. 
Sin  thing  to  come  is  ofte  in  aven- 
ture. 

113.  I  graunte  wel  that  thou  endurest 

wo  785 

As   sharp   as   doth   he,  Ticius,   in 

helle, 
Whos  stomak  foules  tyren  ever-mo 
That  highte  volturis,  as  bokes  telle. 
But  I  may  not   endure   that   thou 

dwelle 
In  so  unskilful  an  opinioun  790 

That  of  thy  wo  is  no  curacioun. 

114.  But   ones   niltow,    for   thy  coward 

herte. 
And  for  thyn  ire  and  folish  wilful- 

nesse. 
For  wantrust,  tellen  of  thy  sorwes 

smerte, 
Ne  to   thyn   owene  help  do    bisi- 

nesse  795 

As  muche  as  speke  a  resoun  more 

or  lesse. 
But  lyest  as  he  that  list  of  no-thing 

recche. 
What  womman  coude  love  swich  a 

wrecche? 

115.  What  may  she  demen  other  of  thy 

deeth. 
If  thou  thus  deye,  and  she  not  \\hy 
it  is,  800 

Q 


But  that  for  fere  is  yolden  up  thy 

breeth. 
For  Grekes  han  biseged  us,  y-wis? 
Lord,  which  a  thank  than  shallow 

han  of  this ! 
Thus  wol  she  seyn,  and  al  the  toun 

at  ones, 
"The  wrecche  is  deed,  the  devel 

have  his  bones  !  "  805 

116.  Thou  mayst  allone  here  wepe  and 

crye  and  knele; 
But,  love  a  woman  that  she  woot  it 

nought. 
And  she  wol  quyte  that  thou  shalt 

not  fele; 
Unknowe,  unkist,  and  lost  that  is 

un-sought. 
What !  many  a  man  hath  love  ful 

dere  y-bought  810 

Twenty  winter  that  his  lady  wiste, 
That  never  yet  his  lady  mouth  he 

kiste. 

117.  What?  shulde  he  therfor  fallen  in 

despeyr. 
Or    be    recreaunt    for    his   owene 

tene. 
Or  sleen  him-self,  al  be  his  lady 

fayr?  815 

Nay,  nay,  but  ever  in  oon  be  fresh 

and  grene 
To  serve  and  love  his  dere  hertes 

(]uene, 
And  thenke  it  is  a  guerdoun  hir  to 

serve 
A  thousand-fold  more  than  he  can 

deserve.' 

118.  And  of  that  word  took  hcde  Troi- 

lus, 820 

And  thoughte  anoon  what  folye  he 

was  inne, 
And    how    that    sooth    him    seyde 

Pandarus, 
That  for  to  sleen  him-self  mighte 

he  not  winne. 
But  bothe  doon  unmanhod  and  a 

sinne, 
And  of  his  deeth  his  lady  nought 

to  wyte;  825 

For  of  his  wo,  god  woot,  she  knew 

ful  lyte. 


226 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


[827-878. 


119.    And  with  that  thought  he  gan  ful 

sore  syke, 
And  seyde,  '  alias !  what  is  me  best 

to  do?' 
To  whom    Pandare    answerde,  '  if 

thee  lyke, 
The  best  is  that  thou  telle  me  thy 

wo;  830 

And  have  my  trouthe,  but  thou  it 

finde  so, 
j}y\  I   be  thy  bote,  or  that   it  be  ful 

^y<^  longe," 

To  peces  do  me  drawe,  and  sithen 

honge ! ' 


120.    'Ye,  so  thou  seyst,'  quod  Troilus 

tho,  '  alias ! 
But,  god  wot,  it  is  not  the  rather 

so;  835 

Ful  hard  were  it  to  helpen  in  this 

cas, 
For  wel  finde  I  that  Fortune  is  my 

fo, 
^e  alle  the  men  that  ryden  conne 

or  go  MT^c-^ 
May  of  hir  cruel  wheel  the  harm 

withstonde; 
For,   as  hir  list,  she  pleyeth  with 

free  and  bonde.'  840 


A 


121.  Quod  Pandarus,  'than  blamestow 

Fortune 

For  thou  art  wrooth,  ye,  now  at  erst 
1  see; 

Wostow  nat  wel  that  Fortune  is 
commune 

To  every  maner  wight  in  som  de- 
gree? 

And  yet  thou  hast  this  comfort,  lo, 
pardee !  845 

That,  as  hir  loyes  moten  over-goon. 

So  mote  hir  sorwes  passen  everich- 
oon. 

122.  For  if  hir  wheel  stinte  any-thing  to 

t«rne. 
Than  cessed  she  Fortune  anoon  to 

be: 
Now,  sith  hir  wheel  by  no  wey  may 

soiorne,  850 

What  wostow  if  hir  mutabilitee 
Right  as  thy-selven  list,  wol  doon 

by  thee. 


Or   that   she   be   not  fer  fro  thyn 

helpinge? 
Paraunter,  thou  hast  cause  for  to 

singe ! 

123.  And   therfor  wostow  what  I  thee 

beseche?  855 

Lat  be  thy  wo  and  turning  to  the 

grounde; 
For   who-so   list  have    helping  of 

his  leche. 
To  him  bihoveth  first  unwrye  his 

wounde. 
To  Cerberus  in  helle  ay  be  I  bounde, 
Were  it  for  my  suster,  al  thy  sorwe, 
By  my  wil,  she  sholde  al  be  thyn 

to-morwe,  861 

124.  Loke  up,  I  seye,  and  tel  me  what 

she  is 
Anoon,  that  I  may  goon  aboute  thy 

nede; 
Knowe  ich  hir  ought?  for  my  love, 

tel  me  this; 
Than  wolde  I  hopen  rather  for  to 

spede.'  865 

Tho  gan  the  veyne  of  Troilus  to 

blede. 
For  he  was  hit,  and  wex  al  reed  for 

shame; 
'  A  ha  ! '  quod  Pandare,  'here  bigin- 

neth  game ! ' 

125.  And  with  that  word  he  gan  him 

for  to  shake, 

And  seyde,  '  theef,  thou  shalt  hir 
name  telle.'  870 

But  tho  gan  sely  Troilus  for  to 
quake 

As  tho  men  sholde  han  lad  him  in- 
to helle, 

And  seyde,  '  alias  !  of  al  my  wo  the 
welle. 

Than ismyswetefo called Criseyde  ! * 

And  wel  nigh  with  the  word  for 
fere  he  deyde.  875 

126.  And  whan  that  Pandare  herde  hir 

name  nevene. 
Lord,    he    was    glad,    and    seyde, 

'  freend  so  dere, 
Now  fare  a-right,  for  loves   name 

in  hevene, 


879-93'] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


227 


Love    hath    biset    thee    wel,  be  of 

good  chere; 
For  of  good  name  and  wysdom  and 

nianere  SSo 

She    hath    y-nough,   and    eek    of 

gentilesse ; 
If  she  be  fayr,  thow  wost  thy-self, 

I  gesse. 

127.  Ne  I  never  saw  a  more  bountevous 
Of  hir  estat,  ne    a   gladder,  ne    of 

speche 
A  freendlier,  ne  a  more  gracious  885 
For  to  do  wel,  ne  lasse  hadde  nede 

to  seche 
What  for  to  doon;   and  al  this  bet 

to  eche, 
In  honour,  to  as  fer  as  she   may 

strecche, 
A  kinges  herte  semeth  by  hires  a 

wrecche. 

128.  And  for-thy  loke  of  good  comfort 

thou  be;  890 

For   certeinly,   the   firste   poynt   is 

this 
Of  noble  corkge  and  wel  ordeyne, 
A  man  to  have  pees  with  him-self, 

y-wis; 
So  oughtest  thou,  for  nought   but 

good  it  is 
To   loven    wel,   and  in    a    worthy 

place;  89^^ 

Thee  oughte  not  to  clepe  it  hap, 

but  grace. 


129.  And  also  thenk,  and  ther-with  glade 

thee, 
That  sith  thy  lady  vertuous  is  al, 
So    folweth    it    that    ther   is   som 

pitee 
Amonges     alle     thise     othere     in 

general;  900 

And  for-thy  see  that  thou,  in  special, 
Requere  nought  that   is   ayein   hir 

name; 
For  vertu  streccheth  not  him-self  to 

shame. 

130.  But    wel    is    me    that    ever    I    was 

born, 
That  thou  biset  art  in  so  good   a 
place;  905 


For  by  my  trouthe,  in  love  I  dorste 

have  sworn. 
Thee  sholde  never  han  tid  thus  fayr 

a  grace; 
And  wostow  why?  for   thou  were 

wont  to  chace 
At  love  in  scorn,  and  for    despyt 

him  calle 
"  Seynt  Idiot,  lord   of  thise    folcs 

alle."  910 

131.  How  often  hastow  maad  thy  nycc 
lapes, 

And     seyd,    that     loves     servants 

everichone 
Of  nycetee  ben  verray  goddes  apes; 
And  some  wolde  monche  hir  mete 

alone, 
Ligging  a-bedde,  and  make  hem  for 

to  grone;  915 

And  som,  thou  seydest,    hadde   a 

blaunche  fevere, 
And  preydest  god  he  sholde  never 

kevere ! 

132.  And  som  of  hem  toke  on  hem,  for 

the  colde, 
More  than  y-nough,  so  seydestow 

ful  ofte; 
And  some  han  feyned  ofte  tyme, 

and  tolde  920 

How  that  they  wake,  whan    they 

slepen  softe; 
And  thus  they  wolde  han  brought 

hem-self  a-lofte, 
And  nathelees  were  under  at  the 

laste ; 
Thus  seydestow,  and  lapedcst  ful 

faste. 

133.  Yet  seydestow,  that,  for  the  more 

part,  925 

These    loveres    wolden   speke     in 

general. 
And  thoughten  that  it  was  a  siker 

art,  ^  --^ 

For  fayling,  for  to  assayen  over-all. 
Now  may   I  iape  of  thee,  if  that   I 

shal! 
But  nathelees,  though  that  I  sholde 

deye,  93° 

That  thou   art    noon    of  tho,   that 

dorste  1  seye. 


228 

TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE,     BOOK   I.                   [932-984. 

134- 

Now  beet  thy  brest,  and  sey  to  god 

Be    lusty,    free,   persevere    in    thy 

of  love, 

servyse, 

"  Thy  grace,  lord !    for  now   I   me 

And  al  is  wel,  if  thou  werke  in  this 

repente 

wyse. 

If  I  mis  spak,   for  now  my-self  I 

love:  " 

138. 

But   he   that    parted    is    in    every 

Thus  sey  with  al  thyn  herte  in  good 

place                                      960 

entente.'                                 935 

Is  no-wher  hool,  as  writen  clerkes 

Quod  Troilus, 'a!  lord!  I  me  con- 

wyse; 

sente. 

What  wonder  is,  though  swich  oon 

And   pray  to  thee  my  lapes  thou 

have  no  grace? 

foryive. 

Eek  wostow  how  it  fareth  of  som 

And  I  shal  never-more  whyl  I  live. 

servyse  ? 
As  plaunte  a  tre  or  herbe,  in  sondry 

135- 

'Thow   seyst  wel,'  quod   Pandare, 

wyse. 

'  and  now  I  hope 

And  on  the  morwe  pulle  it  up  as 

That  thou  the  goddes  wraththe  hast 

blyve,                                       965 

al  apesed;                                940 

No  wonder  is,  though  it  may  never 

And  sithen  thou  hast  wepen  many 

thryve. 

a  drope. 

And    seyd    swich    thing   wher-with 

139- 

And  sith  that  god  of  love  hath  thee 

thy  god  is  plesed, 

bistowed 

Now   wolde   never   god    but   thou 

In   place   digne  un-to  thy  worthi- 

were  esed; 

nesse, 

And  think  wel,  she  of  whom  rist  al 

Stond  faste,  for  to  good  port  hastow 

thy  wo 

rowed ; 

Here-after  may  thy  comfort   been 

And  of  thy-self,  for  any  hevinesse. 

al-so.                                      945 

Hope  alwey  wel;   for,  but-if  dreri- 
nesse                                      971 

136. 

For  thilke  ground,  that  bereth  the 

Or   over-haste    our    bothe    labour 

wedes  wikke. 

shende, 

Bereth  eek  thise  holsom  herbes,  as 

I    hope    of  this  to  maken  a  good 

ful  ofte 

ende. 

Next   the  foule   netle,   rough    and 

thikke. 

140. 

And  wostow  why  I  am    the    lasse 

The  rose  waxeth  swote  and  smothe 

a-fered 

and  softe; 

Of  this  matere  with  my  nece  trete? 

And    next    the    valey    is    the    hil 

For  this  have  I  herd  seyd  of  wyse 

a-lofte ;                                     950 

y-lered,                                   976 

And  next  the  derke  night  the  glade 

"  Was   never   man  ne  woman   yet 

morwe ; 

bigete 

And  also  loye  is  next  the  fyn  of 

That   was   unapt   to    suffren   loves 

sorwe. 

hete 
Celestial,  or  elles  love  of  kinde;  " 

137- 

Now   loke    that    atempre    be    thy 

For-thy  som  grace  I  hope  in  hir  to 

brydel. 

finde.                                      980 

And,  for  the  beste,  ay  suffre  to  the 

tyde. 

141. 

And  for  to  speke  of  hir  in  special, 

Or  elles  al  our  labour  is  on  ydel; 

Hir  beautee  to  bithinken  and  hir 

He    hasteth    wel    that   wysly   can 

youthe, 

abyde;                                    956 

It  sit  hir  nought  to  be  celestial 

Be  diligent,  and  trewe,  and  ay  wel 

As  yet,  though  that  hir  liste  bothe 

hyde. 

and  couthe; 

985-1037-]  TROII.US   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK    I. 


229 


But  trewely,  it  sete  hir  wel  right 
nouthe  9S5 

A  worthy  1< night  to  loven  antl 
cheryce, 

And  but  she  do,  I  holde  it  for  a 
vyce. 

142.  Whcrfore  I  am,  and  wol  he,  ay  redy 
To  peyne  me  to  do  yow  this  servyse; 
For  bothe  yow  to  plese  thus  hope  I 
Iler-afterward;   for  ye  beth  bothe 

wyse,  99 1 

And   conne   it    counseyl    kepe    in 

swich  a  wyse, 
That  no  man  shal  the  wyser  of  it  be ; 
And  so  we  may  be  gladed  alle  three. 

143.  And,  by  my  trouthe,  I  have  right 

now  of  thee  995 

A   good   conceyt   in  my  wit,  as  I 

gesse. 
And  what  it  is,  I  wol  now  that  thou 

see. 
I    thenke,   sith    that    love,    of   his 

goodnesse, 
Ilath  thee  converted  out  of  wikked- 


That  thou  shalt  be  the  beste  post,  I 
leve,  1000 

Of  al  his  lay,  and  most  his  foos  to- 
greve. 

144.  Ensample  why,  see  now  these  wyse 

clerkes. 
That    erren    aldermost     a-yein     a 

law-e. 
And  ben  converted  from  hir  w-ikked 

werkes 
Thorugh  grace  of  god,  that  list  hem 

to  him  drawe,  1 005 

Than  am  they  folk  that  han  most 

god  in  awe, 
And  strengest-feythed  been,  I  un- 

derstonde, 
And    conne    an    errour    alder-best 

withstonde.' 

145.  Wlian    Troilus    had   herd   Pandare 

assented 
To  been  his  help  in  loving  of  Cri- 

seyde,  loio 

Wex  of  his  wo,  as  who  seyth,  un- 

tormented, 


But  hotter  wex  his  love,  and  thus 

he  seyde. 
With    solire    chere,    al-though    his 

herte  pleytie, 
'Now  blisful  Venus  helpe,  er  that 

I  stcrvc, 
Of  thee,  I'andare,  I  may  som  thank 

deserve.  1015 

146.    But,  dere  frend,  how  shal  myn  wo 

ben  lesse 
Til  this  be  doon?  and  goode,  eek 

tel  me  this, 
How  wiltow  seyne  of  me  and  my 

destresse? 
Lest   she  be  wrooth,  this  drede   I 

most,  y-wis. 
Or    nil    not   here   or  trowen    how 

it  is.  1020 

Al  this  drede  I,  and  eek  for  the 

manere        yt*<X^ 
Of  thee,  hir  e^ff^sne  nil  no  swich 

thing  here.' 


147.    Quod   Pandarus,  '  thou   hast    a    ful 
gret  care    ^..^y*-- 
nesse,  ^jXi.^^  ,  1  UL^LtJ'    Lest  that  the  cnerl  may  falle  out  of 


the  mone"! 
Why,  lord  !  I  hate  of  thee  thy  nyce 

fare !  ^,^^_,_^_jgttt  1025 

Why,  entremete  of  that  thou  hast 

to  done ! 
For  goddes  love,   I   bidde  thee  a 

bone,     W-Tr>-\ 
So  lat  me  alone,  and  it  shal  be  thy 

beste.'  — 
'  Why,  freend,'  quod  he,  '  now  do 

right  as  thee  leste. 

148.  But  herke,  Pandare,  o  word,  for  I 

nolde  1030 

That  thou  in  me  wendest,  so  greet 

folye. 
That  to  my  lady  I  desiren  shfilde 
That  toutheth  harm  or  any  vilenye; 
F"or  dredelees,  me  were  lever  dye 
Than  she  of  me  ought  elles  under- 

stode  1035 

But  that,  that  mighte  sounen  in-to 

gode.' 

149.  Tho  lough  this  Pandare,  and  anoon 

answerde, 


230 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   I. 


[1038-1088, 


o 


'And    I    thy  borw?    fy !    no  wight 

And   how   he  best  mighte   hir   be- 

dooth  but  so; 

seche  of  grace. 

I  roughte  nought  though  that  she 

And  finde  a   tyme   ther-to,  and   a 

stode  and  herde 

place. 

How  that  thou  seyst;   but  fare-wel, 

I  wol  go.                                1040 

153- 

For  every  wight  that  hath  an  hous 

A-dieu !     be    glad !     god   spade   us 

to  founde                                1065 

bothe  two  ! 

• 

Ne  renneth  nought  the  werk  for  to 

Yif  me  this  labour  and  this  besi- 

1    .jTi biginne 

nesse, 

'v^ 

WitlTrakel  bond,  but  he  wol  byde 

And  of  my  speed  be  thyn  al  that 

/ 

a  stounde,    ■♦  ~-w-* 

sweetnesse.' 

And  sende  his  hertes  lyne  out  fro 
with-inne 

150,    Tho  Troilus  gan  doun  on  knees  to 

Alderfirst  his  purpos  for  to  winne. 

falle, 

Al     this     Pandare     in     his     herte 

And  Pandare  in  his   armes  hente 

thouhgte,                              1070 

faste,                                     1045 

And  caste  his  werk  ful  wysly,  or  he 

And  seyde,  '  now,  fy  on  the  Grekes 

alle! 
Yet,  pardee,  god  shal  helpe  us  at 

wroughte. 

154- 

But  Troilus  lay  tho  no  lenger  doun, 

the  laste; 

But    up    anoon    up-on    his    stede 

And  dredelees,  if  that  my  lyf  may 

bay, 

laste. 

And    in    the   feld    he    pleyde   tho 

And  god  to-forn,  lo,  som  of  hem 

leoun  ; 

shal  smerte; 

Wo  was  that  Greek  that  with  him 

And    yet   me   athinketh   that    this 

mette  that  day.                    1075 

avaunt  me  asterte !  ,     t     loco 

And    in    the  toun   his   maner   tho 
forth  ay 

151.    Now,     Pandare,    I    can    no    more 

So  goodly  was,  and  gat  him  so  in 

seye, 

grace. 

But    thou    wys,    thou    wost,   thou 

That  ech  him  lovede  that  loked  on 

mayst,  thou  art  al ! 

his  face. 

My  lyf,   my   deeth,    hool    in    thyn 

honde  I leye; 

155- 

For     he     bicom     the     frendlyeste 

Help  now,'  quod  he.     '  Yis,  by  my 

wight, 

trouthe,  I  shal.' 

The  gentileste,  and  eek  the  moste 

'  God  yelde  thee,  freend,  and  this  in 

free,                                       1080 

special,'                                  1055 

The  thriftieste  and  oon  the  beste 

Quod  Troilus,  '  that  thou  me  reco- 

knight, 

maunde 

That  in  his  tyme  was,  or  mighte  be. 

To  hir  that  to  the  deeth  me  may 

Dede  were  his  lapes  and  his  cruel- 

comaunde.' 

tee. 
His   heighe   port   and  his  manere 

152.    This    Pandarus    tho,    desirous    to 

estraunge, 

serve 

And  ech  of  tho   gan  for  a  vertu 

His  fulle  freend,  than  seyde  in  this 

chaunge.                               1085 

manere, 

*  Far-wel,  and  thenk  I  wol  thy  thank 

156. 

Now    lat    us    stinte    of  Troilus    a 

deserve ;                               1060 

stounde. 

Have    here    my  trouthe,    and    that 

That  fareth  lyk  a  man  that  hurt  is 

thou  shalt  wel  here.'  — 

sore, 

And  wente  his  wey,  thenking  on 

And    is   somdel   of   akinge  of  his 

this  matere, 

wounde 

iOcS9-i092.    1-49.]         TROILUS  AND  CRISF.VDE.     B(X)K   II. 


231 


Y-lissed    wel,    but    heled    no    del 

Abit  of  him  that  gooth  aboute  his 

more : 

cure; 

And,     as     an     esy    pacient,     the 

And  thus  he  dryvcth  forth  his  aven- 

lore                                        1090 

ture. 

Explicit  Liber  Primus. 


BOOK   II. 


Incipit  prohemium  Secundi  Libri. 

1.  Oin  of  these  blake  wawes  for  to  sayle, 
O  wind,  O  wind,  the  weder  ginneth 

clere; 
Yox  in  this  see  the  boot  hath  swich 

travayl^^j^;^  '— 
Of  my  (*onning  that  unnethe  I  it  stere  : 
This    see    clepe    I     the    tempestous 

matere  5 

Of  desespeyr  that  Troilus  was  inne  : 
But  now  of  hope  the  calendes  biginne. 

2.  O  lady  myn,  that  called  art  Cleo, 
Thou  be  my  speed  fro  this  forth,  and 

my  muse,  9 

To  ryme  wel  this  book,  til  I  have  do; 
Me  nedeth  here  noon  other  art  to  use. 
For-why  to  every  lovere  I  me  excuse, 
That  of  no  sentement  I  this  endyte. 
But  out  of  Latin  in  my  tonge  it  wryte. 

3.  Wherfore  I  nil  have  neither  thank  ne 

blame  15 

Of  al  this  werk,  but  pray  yow  mekely, 
Disblameth  me,  if  any  word  be  lame, 
For  as  myn  auctor  seyde,  so  seye  I. 
Eek    though    I   speke   of  love   unfel- 

ingly. 
No  wonder  is,  for  it  no-thing  of  newe 

is;  20 

A  blind  man  can  nat  luggen  w-el  in 

hewis.  -Cfc*-** 

4.  Ye  knowe  eek,  that  in  forme  of  speche 

is  chaunge 
With-inne  a  thousand  yeer,  and  wordes 

tho 
That  hadden  prys,   now  wonder  nyce 

and  straunge 
Us  thinketh  hem;  and  yet  they  spake 

hem  so,  25 


And  spedde  as  wel  in  love  as  men  now 

do; 
Eek  for  to  winne  love  in  sondry  ages, 
In  sondry  londes,  sondry  ben  usages. 

5.  And  for-thy  if  it  happe  in  any  wyse, 
That    here    be    any    lovere    in    this 

place  30 

That    herkeneth,    as    the    story    wol 

devyse. 
How  Troilus  com  to  his  lady  grace, 
And    thenketh,    so    nolde  I    nat   love 

purchace, 
Or  wondreth   on   his  speche  and  his 

doinge, 
I  noot;  but  it  is  me  no  wonderinge; 

6.  For  every  wight  which  that  to  Rome 
«y^       went,  36 

■^^^^Halt  nat  o  path,  or  alwey  o  manere; 
Eek  in  some  lond  were  al  the  gamen 

shent. 
If  that  they  ferde  in  love  as  men  don 

here, 
As  thus,  in  open  doing  or  in  chere,40 
In  visitinge,   in   forme,   or   seyde   hir 

sawes ; 
For-thy  men  seyn,  ech  contree  hath 

his  lawes. 

7.  Eek  scarsly  been   ther  in  this  place 

three 
That  han  in  love  seyd  lyk  and  doon  in 

al; 
For  to  thy  purpos  this  may  lyk  en  thee, 
And  thee  right  nought,  yet  al  is  seyd 

or  shal;  46 

Eek  som  men  grave  in  tree,  som  in 

stoon  wal. 
As  it  bitit;    but  sin  I  have  begonne, 
Myn  auctor  shal  I  folwen,  if  I  conne. 
Explicit  prohemium  Secundi  Libri. 


232 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[50-101. 


Incipit  Liber  Secundus. 

Un-to  his  neces  paleys  ther  bi-syde; 

Now  lanus,  god  of  entree,  thou  him 

8.    In   May,  that  moder  is  of  monthes 

gyde! 

glade,                                            50 

That     fresshe    floures,    blewe,    and 

12.    Whan  he  was  come  un-to  his  neces 

whyte,  and  rede. 

place. 

Ben  quike  agayn,  that  winter  dede 

'  Wher  is  my  lady  ? '  to  hir  folk  seyde 

made, 

he; 

And  ful  of  bawme  is  fletinge  every 

And  they  him  tolde;  and  he  forth  in 

mede; 

gan  pace,                                     80 

Whan  Phebus  doth  his  brighte  hemes 

And  fond,  two  othere  ladyes  sete  and 

sprede 

she 

Right  in  the  whyte  Bole,  it  so  bitidde 

With-inne  a  paved  parlour;  and  they 

As  I  shal  singe,  on  Mayes  day  the 

three 

thridde,                                         56 

Herden  a  mayden    reden  hem  the 

geste 

9.   That     Pandarus,    for    al    his    wyse 

Of  the  Sege  of  Thebes,  whyl  hem 

speche, 

leste. 

Felte  eek  his  part  of  loves  shottes 

kene, 

13.    Quod  Pandarus, '  ma  dame,  god  yow 

That,  coude  he  never  so  wel  of  lov- 

see,                                             85 

ing  preche, 

With  al  your  book  and  al  the  com- 

It  made  his  hewe  a-day  ful  ofte  grene ; 

panye ! ' 

So  shoop  it,  that  him  fil  that  day  a 

'  Ey,  uncle  myn,  welcome  y-wis,'  quod 

tene                                            61 

she, 

In  love,  for  which  in  wo  to  bedde  he 

And  up  she  roos,  and  by  the  hond  in 

wente. 

hye 

And  made,  er  it  was  day,  ful  many  a 

She  took  him  faste,  and  seyde,  '  this 

wente. 

night  thrye. 

To  goode  mote  it  turne,  of  yow  I 
mette  ! '  Xa '^<<- -^                     90 

10.    The  swalwe  Proigne,  with  a  sorwfuT 

lay, 

And  with    that  word   she   doun  on 

Whan    morwe    com,   gan  make  hir 

bench  him  sette. 

weymentinge,                              65 

Why  she  forshapen  was;  and  ever  lay 

14.    '  Ye,  nece,  ye  shal  fare  wel  the  bet, 

Pandare  a-bedde,  half  in  a  slomer- 

If  god  wole,  al  this  yeer,'  quod  Pan- 

inge. 

darus; 

Til  she  so  neigh  him  made  hir  chit- 

'  But  I  am  sory  that  I  have  yow  let 

eringe 

To  herknen  of  your  book  ye  preysen 

How  Tereus  gan  forth  hir  suster  take, 

thus;                                           95 

That  with  the  noyse  of  hir  he  gan 

For  goddes  love,  what  seith  it  ?  tel  it 

a-wake;                                        70 

us. 

Is  it  of  love?  0,  som  good  ye  me 

II.    And  gan  to  calle,  and  dresse  him  up 

lere ! ' 

to  ryse. 

'Uncle,'  quod  she,  'your  maistresse 

Remembringe  him  his  erand  was  to 

is  not  here  ! ' 

done 

From  Troilus,  and  eek  his  greet  em- 

15.    With  that  they  gonnen  laughe,  and 

pryse ; 

tho  she  seyde, 

And   caste   and   knew  in   good  plyt 

'This  romaunce   is   of  Thebes,  that 

was  the  mone 

we  rede;                                     1 00 

To  doon  viage,  and  took  his  wey  ful 

And  we    han   herd  how   that   king 

sone                                            75 

Laius  deyde 

I02-I54] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK    II. 


233 


Thurgh  Etlippus  his  sone,  and  al  that 

dede; 
And  here  we  stenten  it  these  lettres 

rede, 
How  the  bisshop,  as  the  hook  can 

telle, 
Amphiorax,  fil  thurgh  the  ground  to 

hclle.'  105 

16.  Quod    Pandarus,    '  al   this  knowe  I 

my-selve. 
And  al  the  assege  of  Thebes  and  the 

care; 
For  her-of  been  ther  maked  bokes 

twelve :  — 
But  lat  be  this,  and  Jtel  me  how  ye 

fare ;  w^ 

Do  wey  your  barbe,  and  shew  your 

face  bare ;  1 10 

Do  wey  your  book,  rys  up,  and  lat 

us  daunce, 
And  lat  us  don  to  May  som  observ- 

aunce,' 

17.  '  A  !  god  forbede  ! '  quod  she,  '  be  ye 

mad  ? 
Is  that  a  widewes  lyf,  so  god  you  save  ? 
By  god,   ye   maken    me    right    sore 

a-drad,  115 

Ye  ben  so  wilde,  it  semeth  as  ye  rave  ! 
It  sete  me  wel  bet  ay  in  a  cave 
To  bidde,  and  rede  on  holy  seyntes 

ly  ves : 
Lat   maydens   gon  to   daunce,  and 

yonge  wyves.' 

i8.    '  As  ever  thryve  I,'  quod  this  Pan- 
darus, 1 20 
'Yet  coude  I  telle  a  thing  to  doon 

you  pleye.' 
'Now  uncle  dere,'  quod  she, '  tel  it  us 
For  goddes  love;   is  than  the  assege 

aweye  ? 

I  am  of  Grekes  so  ferd  that  I  deye.' 

'  Nay,  nay,'  quod  he,  '  as  ever  mole 

I  thryve!  125 

It   is  a   thing  wel   bet   than   swiche 

fyve.' 

19.    'Ye,   holy   god!'    quod    she,   'what 
thing  is  that? 
What?   bet   than   swiche  fyve?   ey, 
nay,  y-wis ! 


For  al   this  world  ne  can  I  reden 

what 
It  sholde  been;   som  lapc,  I  trowe, 

is  this;  i  50 

And  but  your-selven  telle  us  what  it 

is, 
My  wit  is  for  to  arede  it  al  to  lene; 
As  help  me  god,  I  moot  nat  what  ye 

mene.' 

20.  '  And  I  your  borow,  ne  never  shal, 

for  me, 
This  thing  be  told  to  yow,  as  mote 

I  thryve ! '  135 

'  And  why  so,  uncle  myn?  why  so?' 

quod  she. 
'  By  god,'  quod  he,  '  that  wole  I  telle 

as  blyve; 
For    prouder    womman    were    ther 

noon  on-lyve, 
And  ye  it  wiste,  in  al  the   toun  of 

Troye ; 
I  iape  nought,  as  ever  have  I  loye  ! ' 

21.  Tho   gan  she  wondren   more    than 

biforn  1 4 1 

A  thousand  fold,  and  doun  hir  eyen 

caste ; 
For  never,  sith  the  tyme  that  she 

was  born, 
To    knowe    thing    desired    she    so 

faste ; 
And  with  a  syk  she  seyde  him  at  the 

laste,  145 

'Now,  uncle  myn,  I  nil  yow  nought 

displese, 
Nor  axen  more,  that  may  do  yow 

disese.' 

22.  So    after    this,   with    many   wordes 

glade. 
And  freendly  tales,  and  with  mery 

chere. 
Of  this  and  that  they  pleyde,  and 

gunnen  wa<le  150 

In  many  an  unkouth  glad  and  deep 

matere, 
As   freendes   doon,  whan    they   ben 

met  y-fere; 
Til  she  gan  axen   him    how   Ector 

ferde. 
That  was  the  tounes  wal  and  Grekes 

yerde. 


234 

TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE,     BOOK  II.                 [isS-2og. 

23- 

'  Ful    wel,    I    thanke    it  god,'    quod 

27.    '  By  god,'  quod  she,  '  of  Ector  that 

Pandarus,                                   155 

is  sooth; 

'  Save    in  his   arm   he   hath  a  litel 

Of  Troilus  the  same  thing  trowe  I; 

wounde; 

For  dredelees,  men   tellen  that  he 

And  eek  his  fresshe  brother  Troi- 

dooth                                          185 

lus, 

In  armes  day  by  day  so  worthily, 

The    wyse    worthy    Ector    the    se- 

And  bereth   him  here  at  hoom  so 

counde, 

gentilly 

In     whom    that    every    vertu    list 

To  every  wight,  that  al  the  prys  hath 

abounde, 

he 

As  alle  trouthe  and  alle  gentillesse, 

Of  hem  that  me  were  levest  preysed 

Wysdom,     honour,     fredom,      and 

be.' 

worthinesse.'                             161 

28.    'Ye   sey   right  sooth,   y-wis,'   quod 

24. 

'  In  good  feith,  eem,'  quod  she, '  that 

Pandarus;                                  190 

lyketh  me; 

'  For  yesterday,  who-so  hadde  with 

They  faren  wel,  god  save  hem  bothe 

him  been, 

two ! 

He    might    have    wondred    up-on 

For  trewely  I  holde  it  greet  deyntee 

Troilus; 

A  kinges  sone  in  armes  wel  to  do, 

For  never  yet  so  thikke  a  swarm  of 

And     been     of    good     condiciouns 

been 

ther-to;                                      166 

Ne  fleigh,  as  Grekes  fro  him  gonne 

For   greet   power  and   moral  vertu 

fleen; 

here 

And    thorugh    the    feld,    in    every 

Is  selde  y-seye  in  0  persone  y-fere.' 

wightes  ere,                             195 
Ther   nas   no   cry   but   "Troilus   is 

25- 

'  In  good  feith,  that  is  sooth,'  quod 
Pandarus; 

there ! " 

'  But,  by  my  trouthe,  the  king  hath 

29.    Now   here,    now   there,  he   hunted 

sones  tweye,                              170 

hem  so  faste. 

That  is  to  mene,  Ector  and  Troilus, 

Ther   nas   but   Grekes  blood;    and 

That  certainly,  though  that  I  sholde 

Troilus, 

deye. 

Now  hem  he  hurte,  and  hem  alle 

They  been  as  voyde  of  vyces,  dar  I 

doun  he  caste; 

seye. 

Ay  where  he  wente  it  was  arayed  thus: 

As  any  men  that  liveth   under  the 

He  was  hir  deeth,  and  sheld  and  lyf 

Sonne, 

for  us;                                      201 

Hir   might    is   wyde   y-knowe,   and 

That  as  that  day  ther  dorste   noon 

what  they  conne.                    175 

with-stonde, 
Whyl  that  he  held  his  blody  swerd 

26. 

Of   Ector   nedeth  it   nought  for  to 
telle; 

in  honde. 

In  al  this  world  ther  nis  a  bettre 

30.    Therto  he  is  the  freendlieste  man 

knight 

Of  grete  estat,  that  ever  I  saw  my 

Than    he,    that    is    of    worthinesse 

lyve;                                         205 

welle; 

And  wher  him  list,  best  felawshipe 

And  he  wel  more  vertu   hath  than 

can 

might. 

To  suche  as  him  thinketh  able  for 

This    knoweth    many    a    wys    and 

to  thryve.' 

worthy  wight.                           180 

And  with  that  word  tho  Pandarus, 

The  same  prys  of  Troilus  I  seye. 

as  blyve, 

God  help  me  so,  I  knowe  not  swiche 

He  took  his  leve,  and  seyde,  '  I  wol 

tweye.' 

go  henne : ' 

210-264.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


23s 


'Nay,  blame  have  I,  myn  uncle,' 
quod  she  thenne.  210 

31.  '  What  eyleth  yovv  to  be  thus  wery 

sone. 
And  namelich  of  wommen?  wol  ye 

so? 
Nay,  sitteth  down;   by  god,  I  have 

to  done 
With  yow,  to  speke  of  wisdom  cr 

ye  go.' 
And   every  wight   that  was  a-boute 

hem  tho,  215 

That  herde  that,  gan  fer  a-wey  to 

stonde, 
W'hyl   tliey  two  hadde  al  that  hem 

liste  in  honde. 

32.  Whan  that  hir  tale  al  brought  was 

to  an  ende 

Of  hire  estat  and  of  hir  governaunce. 

Quod  Pandarus,  '  now  is  it  tyme  I 
wende ;  220 

But  yet,  I  seye,  aryseth,  lat  us 
daunce. 

And  cast  your  widwes  habit  to  mis- 
chaunce : 

What  list  yow  thus  your-self  to  dis- 
figure, 

Sith  yow  is  tid  thus  fair  an  aven- 
ture?' 

2}.    'A!  wel  bithought !  for  love  of  god,' 

quod  she,  225 

'  Shal  I  not  witen  what  ye  mene  of 

this?' 
'No,  this   thing   axeth    layser,'   tho 

quod  he, 
'  And  eek  me  wolde  muche  greve, 

y-wis. 
If  I  it  tolde,  and  ye  it  toke  amis. 
Yet  were   it   bet   my   tonge    for   to 

stille  230 

Than  seye  a  sooth  that  were  ayeins 

your  wille. 

34.    For,  nece,  by  the  goddesse  Minerve, 
And     luppiter,     that     maketh     the 

thonder  ringc, 
And  by  the  blisful  Venus  that  I  serve. 
Ye  been  the  womman  in  this  world 

livinge,  235 

With-oute  paramours,  to  my  witinge, 


That  I  best  love,  and  lothest  am  to 

greve, 
And  that  ye  witen  wel  your-self,  I 

leve.' 

35.  'Y-wis,  myn  uncle,'  quod  she,  'grant 

mercy; 
Your  frecndship  have  I  founden  ever 

yit;  240 

I  am  to  no  man  holden  trewcly 
So  muche  as  yow,  and  have  so  litel 

quit; 
And,  with  the  grace  of  god,  emforth 

my  wit. 
As    in    my   gilt   I    shal    you    never 

ofifende; 
And  if  I  have  er  this,  I  wol  amende. 

36.  But,   for    the   love   of  god,    I    yow 

beseche,  246 

As  ye  ben  he  that  I  most  love  and 

triste,  ^-  /    .  . 

Lat  be  to  me  your  fremde   maner    Ji/Jr  ^ 

speche,  , 

And  sey  to  me,  your  nece,  what  yow  ^"^ 

liste:'  U.*--V-, 
And  with  that  word  hir  uncle  anoon 

hir  kiste,  250 

And  seyde,  '  gladly,  leve  nece  dere, 
Tak  it  for  good  that  I  shal  seye  yow 

here.' 

37.  With  that  she  gan  hir  eyen  doun  to 

caste. 
And  Pandarus  to  coghe  gan  a  lyte. 
And  seyde,  '  nece,  alwey,  lo !  to  the 

laste,  255    ^ 

How-so   it   be  that  som  men   hem    '■  , 

delyte  ^^  * 

With  subtil  art  hir  tales  for  to   en- 

dyte. 
Yet  for  al  that,  in  hir  entencioun, 
Hir  tale  is  al  for  som  conclusioun. 

38.  And    sithen    thende   is   every   tales 

strengthe,  ^  260 

And  this  matere  is  so  bihovely, 
What  sholde  I  peynte  or  drawen  it 

on  lengthe 
To  yow,  that  been  my  freend  so  fcith- 

fuliy?' 
And   with   that   word   he  gan   right 

inwardly 


236 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[265-321. 


Biholden  hir,  and  loken  on  hir  face, 

Yif  me  your  hond,  for  in  this  world 

And  seyde, '  on  suche  a  mirour  goode 

is  noon, 

grace  ! '                                      266 

If  that  you  list,  a  wight  so  wel  begoon. 

39.    Than  thoughte  he  thus,  '  if  I  my  tale 

43.    And  sith  I  speke  of  good  entencioun, 

endyte 

As  I  to  yow  have   told   wel    here- 

Ought  hard,  or  make  a  proces  any 

biforn,                                      296 

whyle, 

And  love  as  wel  your  honour  and 

She  shal  no  savour  han  ther-in  but 

renoun 

lyte, 

As  creature  in  al  this  world  y-born; 

And  trowe  I  wolde  hir  in  my  vvil 

By  alle  the  othes  that  I  have  yow 

bigyle.                                        270 

sworn, 

For  tendre  wittes  wenen  al  be  wyle 

And  ye  be  wrooth  therfore,  or  wene 

Ther-as  they  can  nat  pleynly  under- 

I  lye,                                        300 

stonde; 

Ne  shal  I  never  seen  yow  eft  with  ye. 

For-thy    hir    wit    to    serven   wol    I 

fonde '  — 

44,    Beth  nought  agast,  ne  quaketh  nat; 

wher-to? 

40.    And  loked  on  hir  in  a  besy  wyse, 

Ne  chaungeth  nat  for  fere  so  your 

And  she  was  war  that  he  byheld  hir 

hewe; 

so,                                               275 

For  hardely,  the  werste  of  this  is  do; 

And  seyde,  'lord!    so  faste  ye  me 

And  though  my  tale  as  now  be  to 

avyse  ! 

yow  newe,                                 305 

Sey  ye  me  never  er  now?  what  sey 

Yet   trist   alwey,   ye   shal  me  finde 

ye,  no?' 

trewe; 

'Yes,  yes,'  quod  he,  'and  bet  wole 

And  were  it  thing  that  me  thoughte 

er  I  go; 

unsittinge, 

But,  by  my  trouthe,  I  thoughte  now 

To   yow    nolde  I    no    swiche    tales 

if  ye                                         279 

bringe.' 

Be  fortunat,  for  now  men  shal  it  see. 

45.    '  Now,  my  good  eem,  for  goddes  love, 

41.    For  to  every  wight  som  goodly  aven- 

I  preye,' 

ture 

Quod  she,  '  com  of,  and  tel  me  what 

Som   tyme   is  shape,    if  he   it   can 

it  is;                                            310 

receyven ; 

For  bothe  I  am  agast  what  ye  wol 

And  if  that  he  wol  tak  of  it  no  cure. 

seye, 

Whan  that  it  cometh,  but  wilfully  it 

And  eek  me  longeth  it  to  wite,  y-wis. 

weyven, 

For  whether  it  be  wel  or  be  amis. 

Lo,    neither    cas    nor    fortune   him 

Sey   on,    lat    me    not    in    this    fere 

deceyven,                                  285 

dwelle :  ' 

But    right    his    verray   slouthe    and 

'  So  wol  I  doon,  now  herkneth,  I  shal 

wrecchednesse; 

telle:                                          315 

And  swich  a  wight  is  for  to  blame,  I 

gesse. 

46.    Now,   nece   myn,    the   kinges   dere 

42.    Good  aventure,  O  bele  nece,  have  ye 

sone, 
The  goode,  wyse,   worthy,   fresshe, 

Ful  lightly  founden,  and  ye  conne  it 

and  free. 

take; 

Which  alwey  for  to  do  wel  is  his 

And,  for  the  love  of  god,  and  eek  of 

wone, 

me,                                              290 

The  noble  Troilus,  so  loveth  thee. 

Cacche  it  anoon,  lest  aventure  slake. 

That,  bot  ye  helpe,  it  wol  his  bane  be. 

What  sholde  I  lenger  proces  of  it 

Lo,  here  is  al,  what  sholde  I  more 

make? 

seye?                                        321 

322-372.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


237 


Uoth   what  yow  list,  to  make   him 

And  ye,  that  been  of  beautee  crop 

live  or  deyc. 

and  rote. 
If  therwith-al    in    you   ther    be    no 

47- 

But  if  ye  lete  him  deye,  I  wol  sterve; 

routhe. 

Have  her  my  troathe,  nece,   I   nil 

Than    is   it   harm   ye  liven,  by  my 

not  lyen; 

trouthe !                                   350 

Al  sholde  I  with  this  knyf  my  throte 

kerve'—                                   325 

51.    And  also  thenk  wel,  that  this  is  no 

With  that  the  teres  l^raste  out  of  his 

gaude; 

yen, 

For  me  were  lever,  thou  and  I  and 

And  seyde, '  if  that  yc  doon  us  bothe 

he 

dyen, 

Were  hanged,  than  I  sholde  been 

Thus  giltelees,  than  have  ye  fisshed 

his  baude. 

faire; 

As  heyghe,  as  men  mighte  on  us  alle 

What    mende   ye,   though   that   we 

y-see : 

bothe  apeyrePj^,^,^^^,.. 

I  am  thyn  eem,  the  shame  were  to 
me,                                         355 

48. 

Alias !  he  which  that  is  my  lord  so 

As   wel    as   thee,   if  that   I   sholde 

dere,                                         330 

assente, 

That  trewe  man,  that  noble  gentil 

Thorugh    myn    abet,    that    he    thyn 

knight. 

honour  shente. 

That     nought     desireth     but     your 

freendly  chere, 

52.    Now  understond,  for  I  yow  nought 

I  see  him  deye,  ther  he  goth  up- 

requere, 

right. 

To  binde  yow  to  him   thorugh  no 

And  hasteth  him,  with  al  his  fulle 

beheste. 

might. 

But  only  that  ye  make  him  bettre 

For  to  be  slayn,  if  fortune  wol  as- 

chere                                          360 

sente;                                         335 

Than  ye  han  doon  er  this,  and  more 

Alias !  that  god  yow  swich  a  beautee 

feste. 

sente ! 

So   that   his   lyf  be    saved,   at   the 
leste : 

49. 

If  it  be  so  that  ye  so  cruel  be, 

This  al  and  som,  and  playnly  our 

That  of  his  deeth  yow  liste  nought 

entente; 

to  recche, 

God    helpe    me   so,    I   never    other 

That  is  so  trewe  and  worthy,  as  ye 

mente. 

see, 
No   more    than   of   a   lapere    or   a 

53.    Lo,  this   request   is   not   but   skile, 

wrecche,                                    340 

y-wis,                                        365 

If  ye  be  swich,  your  beautee  may 

Ne  doute  of  reson,  pardee,  is  ther 

not  strecche 

noon. 

To   make    amendes   of   so   cruel   a 

I  sette  the  worste  that  ye  dredden 

dede; 

this, 

Avysement  is  good  bifore  the  nede. 

Men  woldenwondren  seen  him  come 
or  goon : 

50. 

Wo    worth    the    faire    gemme    ver- 

Ther-ayeins  answere  I  thus  a-noon. 

tulees ! 

That  every  wight,  but  he  be  fool  of 

Wo  worth  that  herbe  also  that  dooth 

kinde,                                         370 

no  bote !                                   345 

W^ol  deme  it  love  of  freendship  in 

Wo    worth     that    beautee    that    is 

his  minde. 

routhelees ! 

Wo  worth  that  wight  that  tret  ech 

54.    What?  who  wol  deme,   though   he 

under  fote ! 

see  a  man 

-^si-' 


238 


TROILUS  AND   CRlSEYDE.     BOOK  II. 


[373-424- 


pr\ 


To  temple  go,  that  he  the  images 

eteth? 
Thenk  eek  how  wel  and  wysly  that 

he  can 
Governe   him-self,  that  he  no-thing 

foryeteth,  375 

That,  wher  he  cometh,  he  prys  and 

thank  him  geteth; 
And  eek  ther-to,  he  shal  come  here 

so  selde, 
What   fors  were   it   though   al   the 

toun  behelde? 

55.  Svvich   love  of  freendes  regneth   al 

this  toun; 
L  jj>^    And     wrye     yow     in     that     mantel 
■        <JM  ever-mo;  380 

And,  god  so  wis  be  my  savacioun. 
As  I  have    seyd,   your   beste  is  to 

do  so. 
But  alwey,  goode  nece,  to  stinte  his 
wo, 
.JU  So  lat  your  daunger  sucred  ben  a 

•^  lyte,        '  "v-«v-^.-» 

That  of  his  deeth  ye  be  nought  for 
to  wyte.'  385 

56.  Criseyde,  which  that   herde  him  in 

this  wyse, 
Thoughte,    '  I    shal    fele    what    he 

meneth,  y-wis.' 
'  Now,  eem,'  quod  she,  '  what  wolde 

ye  devyse. 
What  is  your  reed  I  sholde  doon  of 

this?' 
'That  is  wel  seyd,'  quod  he, '  certayn, 

best  is  390 

That  ye  him  love  ayein  for  his  lov- 

inge. 
As  love  for  love  is  skilful  guerdon- 

inge. 

57.  Thenk  eek,  how  elde  wasteth  every 

houre 
In  eche  of  yow  a  party  of  beautee; 
And  therfore,  er  that  age  thee  de- 

voure,  395 

Go  love,  for,  olde,  ther  wol  no  wight 

of  thee. 
Lat  this  proverbe  a  lore  un-to  yow 

be; 
"To  late  y-war,  quod  Beautee,  whan 

it  paste;  " 


And  elde  daunteth  daunger  at  the 
laste. 

58.  The  kinges  fool  is  woned  to  cryen 

loude,  400 

Whan  that  him  thinketh  a  womman 

bereth  hir  h)  e, 
"  So  longe  mote  ye  live,  and   alle 

proude. 
Til  Crowes  feet  be  growe  under  your 

And  sende  yow  thanne  a  miruur  in 

to  prye 
In   whiche    ye   may  see   your    face 

a-morwe  !  "  405 

Nece,  I  bidde  wisshe  yow  no  more 

sorwe.' 

59.  With  this  he  stente,  and  caste  adoun 

the  heed. 
And    she    bigan    to   breste    a-wepe 

anoon. 
And  seyde,  '  alias,  for  wo  !  why  nere 

I  deed? 
For   of  this  world   the   feith    is   al 

agoon !  410 

Alias !  what  sholden  straunge  to  me 

doon. 
When  he,  that  for  my  beste  freend 

I  vvende, 
Ret  me  to  love,  and  sholde  it  me 

defende? 

60.  Alias !  I  wolde  han  trusted,  doute- 

lees, 
That  if  that  I,  thurgh  my  disaven- 

ture,  415 

Had  loved  other  him  or  Achilles, 
Ector,  or  any  niannes  creature, 
Ye    nolde    han    had    no    mercy    ne 

mesure 
On  me,  but  alwey  had  me  in  repreve; 
This  false  world,  alias !  who  may  it 

leve?    V-..^,^  420 

61.  What?  is  this  al  the  loye  and  al  the 

feste  ? 
Is  this  your  reed,  is  this  my  blisful 

cas? 
Is  this  the  verray  mede  of  your  be- 

heste? 
Is    al    this    peynted    proces     seyd, 

alias ! 


425-4^0.] 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


239 


Right   for   this  fyn?     0  lady  myn, 

And  for  the  harm  that  mighte  eek 

Pallas!                                     425 

fallen  more, 

Thou    in    this    dredful    cas    for    nie 

She  gan  to   rewe,  and  dradde  hir 

purveye; 

wonder  sore;                           455 

For  so  astonied  am  I  that  I  deye ! ' 

66. 

And  thoughte  thus, '  unhappes  fallen 

62. 

With  that  she  gan  ful  sorwfuUy  to 

thikke 

syke; 

Alday  for  love,  and  in  swich  maner 

'A!  may  it  be  no  bet?'  quod  Pan- 

cas. 

darus; 

As  men  ben  cruel  in  hem-self  and 

'  By  god,  I  shal  no-more  com  here 

wikke; 

this  wyke,    vV^  l                  430 

And  if  this  man  slee  here  him-self, 

And  god  to-forn,  that  am  mistrusted 

alias !                                        459 

thus; 

In  my  presence,  it  wol  l)e  no  solas. 

I  see  ful  wel  that  ye  sette  lyte  of  us, 

What  men  wolde  of  hit  deme  1  can 

Or   of  our   deeth !    Alias !    I   woful 

nat  seye; 

wrecche ! 

It  nedeth  me  ful  sleyly  for  to  pleye.' 

Mighte  he  yet  live,  of  me  is  nought 

to  recche. 

67. 

And  with  a  sorwful  syk  she  seyde 
thrye. 

63- 

0  cruel  god,  O  dispitouse  Marte,  435 

'  A !    lord  !  what  me  is   tid   a  sory 

0  Furies  three  of  helle,  on  yow  I 

chaunce !                                 464 

crye ! 

For  myn  estat  now  lyth  in  lupartye, 

So  lat  me  never  out  of  this  hous 

And  eek  myn  ernes  lyf  lyth  in  bal- 

departe. 

aunce; 

If  that  I  mente  harm  or  vilanye  ! 

But  nathelees,  with  goddes  govern- 

But  sith  I  see  my  lord  mot  nedes  dye. 

aunce. 

And  I  with   him,  here  I  me  shryve. 

I  shal  so  doon,  myn  honour  shal  I 

and  seye                                    440 

kepe. 

That   wikkedly   ye    doon   us   bothe 

And  eek  his  lyf;  '  and  stinte  for  to 

deye. 

wepe. 

64. 

But  sith  it  lyketh  yow  that  I  be  deed, 

68. 

*  Of  harmes  two,  the  lesse  is  for  to 

By  Neptuiius,  that  god  is  of  the  see. 

chese;                                        470 

Fro  this  forth  shal  1  never  eten  breed 

Yet  have  I  lever  maken  him  good 

Til   I   myn  owene  herte  blood  may 

chere 

see;                                             445 

In  honour,  than  myn  ernes   lyf   to 

For  certavn,  I  wole  deye  as  sone  as 

lese; 

he'  — 

Ye   seyn,  ye  no-thing  elles  me  re- 

And  up  he  sterte,  and  on  his  vvey  he 

quere? ' 

raughte. 

'No,    wis,'    quod    he,    'myn    owene 

Til    she    agayn    him    by    the    lappe 

nece  dere.' 

caughte. 

'  Now  wel,'  quod  she,  '  and  I  wol 
doon  my  peyne  ;                     475 

65. 

Criseyde,  which  that  wel  neigh  starf 

I   shal   myn   herte    ayeins    my   lust 

for  fere,                                    449 

constreyne. 

So  as  she  was  the  ferfullcste  wight 

That  mighte  be,  and  herde  eek  with 

69. 

But   that  I   nil  not  holden   him  in 

hir  ere. 

honde. 

And   saw  the  sorwful  ernest  of  the 

Ne  love  a  man,  ne  can  I  not,  ne  may 

knight, 

Ayeins  my  wil;    but  elles  wol  I  fonde. 

And   in   his  preyere  eek  saw  noon 

Myn  honour  sauf,  plese  him  fro  liay 

unright, 

to  day;                                       480 

240 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[481-541. 


Ther-to  nolde  I  nought  ones  have 

seyd  nay, 
But  that  I  clredde,as  in  my  fantasye; 
But  cesse  cause,  ay  cesseth  nialadye. 

70.  And  here  I  make  a  protestacioun. 
That  in  this  proces  if  ye  depper  go, 
That  certaynly,  for  no  savacioun  486 
Of  yow,  though  that  ye  sterve  bothe 

two, 
Though   al  the  world  on  o  day  be 

my  fo, 
Ne  shal  I  never  on  him  han  other 

routhe.'  — 
'  I  graunte  wel,'  quod  Pandare,  '  by 

my  trouthe.  490 

7 1 .  But  may  I  truste  wel  ther-to,'  quod  he, 
That,  of  this  thing  that  ye  han  hight 

me  here. 
Ye  wol  it  holden  trewly  un-to  me?' 
'  Ye,    douteless,'    quod    she,     '  myn 

uncle  dere.' 
'Ne   that   I  shal  han  cause  in  this 

matere,'  495 

Quod  he,  '  to  pleyne,  or  after  yow  to 

preche? ' 
'Why,    no,    pardee;     what    nedeth 

more  speche?' 

72.  Tho  fillen  they  in  othere  tales  glade, 
Til  at  the  laste,  '  O  good  eem,'  quod 

she  tho, 
'  For  love  of  god,  which  that  us  bothe 

made,  500 

Tel  me  how  first  ye  wisten  of  his  wo  : 
Wot  noon  of  hit  but  ye?'     He  seyde, 

'no.' 
'Can  he  wel  speke  of  love?'  quod 

she,  '  I  preye, 
Tel  me,  for  I  the  bet  me  shal  pur- 

veye.' 

73.  Tho  Pandarus  a  litel  gan  to  smyle. 
And  seyde,  '  by  my  trouthe,  I  shal 

yow  telle.  506 

This  other  day,  nought  gon  ful  longe 

whyle, 
In-with  the  paleys-gardyn,  by  a  welle, 
Gan  he  and  I  wel  half  a  day  to  dwelle, 
Right  for  to  speken  of  an  ordenaunce, 
How  we   the    Grekes    mighte   disa- 

vaunce.  511 


74.  Sone  after  that  bigonne  we  to  lepe, 
And  casten  with  our  dartes  to  and 

fro, 
Til  at  the  laste  he  seyde,  he  wolde 

slepe. 
And   on  the   gres    a-doun   he   leyde 

him  tho;  515 

And  I  after  gan  rome  to  and  fro 
Til  that  I  herde,  as  that  I  welk  allone. 
How  he  bigan  ful  wofully  to  grone. 

75.  Tho  gan  I  stalke  him  softely  bihinde, 
And  sikerly,  the  sothe  for  to  seyne, 
As   I  can   clepe    ayein    now   to    my 

minde,  521 

Right  thus  to  Love  he  gan  him  for 

to  pleyne; 
He  seyde,  "  lord  !  have  routhe  up-on 

my  peyne, 
Al  have  I  been  rebel  in  myn  entente; 
Now,  mea  culpa,  lord  !  I  me  repente. 

76.  O  god,  that  at  thy  disposicioun  526 
Ledest  the  fyn,  by  Juste  purveyaufice. 
Of  every  wight,  my  lowe  confessioun 
Accepte  in  gree,  and  send  me  swich 

penaunce 
As  lyketh  thee,  but  from  desesper- 

aunce,  530 

That  may  my  goost  departe  awey  fro 

thee. 
Thou   be   my   sheld,  for    thy   benig- 

nitee. 

77.  For  certes,  lord,  so  sore  hath   she 

me  wounded 
That  stod   in   blak,  with    loking  of 

hir  yen, 
That    to    myn    hertes    botme    it    is 

y-sounded,  535 

Thorugh  which   I  woot  that  I  mot 

nedes  dyen; 
This    is   the   worste,   I   dar   me    not 

bi-wryen; 
And  wel  the  hotter  been  the  gledes 

rede, 
That  men  hem   wryen  with   asshen 

pale  and  dede." 

78.  With  that  he  smoot  his  heed  adoun 

anoon,  540 

And    gan    to    motre,    I    noot    what, 
trewely. 


542-595-1 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


241 


And  I  with  that  gan  stille  awey  to 

Was  I  so  bisy  no  man  for  to  preche, 

goon, 

Ne    never   was    to   wight    so   depe 

And    leet    ther-of   as    no-thing    wist 

y-sworn,                                   570 

hadde  I, 

Or  he  me  tolde  who  mighte  been 

And  come  ayein  anoon  and  stood 

his  leche. 

him  by, 

But    now   to    yow   rehersen    al   his 

And  seyde,  "  a-wake,  ye  slepen    al 

speche, 

to  longe;                                   545 

Or    alle    his   woful    wordes    for    to 

It  semeth  nat  that  love  dooth  yow 

soune, 

longe. 

Ne  bid  me  not,  but  ye  wol  see  me 

swowne. 

79.    That   slepen  so   that    no    man    may 

yow  wake. 

83.    But    for  to  save  his  lyf,   and    elles 

Who  sey  ever  or  this  so  dul  a  man?" 

nought,                                      575 

"  Ve,  freend,"  quod  he,  "  do  ye  your 

And  to  non  harm  of  yow,  thus  am  I 

hedes  ake                                  549 

driven; 

For  love,  and  lat  me  liven  as  I  can." 

And  for  the  love  of  god  that  us  hath 

But  though  that  he  for  wo  was  pale 

wrought, 

and  wan, 

Swich  chere  him  dooth,  that  he  and 

Yet  made  he  tho  as  fresh  a  conte- 

I  may  liven. 

naunce, 

Now  have  I  plat  to  yow  myn  herte 

As  though  he  shulde  have  led  the 

schriven; 

newe  daunce. 

And  sin  ye  woot  that  myn  entente  is 

clene,                                         580 

80.    This  passed  forth,  til  now,  this  other 

Tak    hede    ther-of,   for  I  non   yvel 

day,                                           554 

mene. 

It  fel  that  I  com  roming  al  allone 

Into   his   chaumbre,  and   fond   how 

84.    And  right  good  thrift,  I  pray  to  god, 

that  he  lay 

have  ye. 

Up-on  his  bed ;  but  man  so  sore  grone 

That  han  swich  oon  y-caught  with- 

Ne  herde    I    never,    and   what    that 

oute  net; 

was  his  mone. 

And  be  ye  wys,  as  ye  ben  fair  to  see, 

Ne  wiste    I    nought;    for,  as   I  was 

Wei  in  the  ring  than  is  the  ruby  set. 

cominge, 

Ther  were  never  two  so  wel  y-met. 

Al  sodeynly  he  lefte  his  compleyn- 

Whan  ye  ben  his  al  hool,  as  he  is 

inge. 

youre : 

Ther  mighty  god  yet  graunte  us  see 

81.    Of  which   I   took  somewhat  suspe- 

that  houre ! ' 

cioun,                                         561 

And  neer  I  com,  and  fond  he  wepte 

85.    '  Nay,    therof  spak   I   not,  a,  ha ! ' 

sore ; 

quod  she, 

And  god  so  wis  be  my  savacioun, 

'As  helpe  me  god,  ye  shenden  every 

As  never  of  thing  hadde  I  no  routhe 

deel ! '                                         590 

more. 

'  0  mercy,  dere  nece,'  anoon  quod 

P"or  neither  with  engyn,  ne  with  no 

he, 

lore,                                            565 

'What-so   I   spak,  I   mente  nought 

Unethes  mighte  I  fro  the  deeth  him 

but  weel. 

kepe; 

By  Mars  the  god,  that  helmed  is  of 

That  yet  fele  I  myn  herte  for  him 

steel ; 

wepe. 

Now  beth  nought  wrooth,  my  blood, 

my  nece  dere.' 

82.    And  god  wot,  never,  sith  that  I  was 

'  Now  wel,'  quod  she,  '  foryeven  be 

born, 

it  here  ! '                                  595 

242 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II, 


[596-649. 


86. 

With    this    he    look    his    leve,    and 

For   which,  men    say,    may    nought 

hoom  he  wente; 

disturbed  be 

And  lord,  hcjw  he  was  glad  and  wel 

That  shal  bityden  of  necessitee. 

bigoon ! 

Criseyde    aroos,    no    lenger    she    ne 

90.    This  Troilus  sat  on  his  baye  stede, 

stente. 

Al  armed,  save  his  heed,  ful  richely, 

But  straught  in-to  hir  closet  wente 

And  wounded  was  his  hors,  and  gan 

anoon. 

to  blede,                                    626 

And  sette  here  doun  as  stille  as  any 

On  whiche  he  rood  a  pas,  ful  softely; 

stoon,                                         600 

But  swich  a  knightly  sighte,  trewely, 

And  every  word  gan  up  and  doun 

As  was  on  him,  was  nought,  with- 

to  winde. 

outen  faile, 

That  he  hadde  seyd,  as  it  com  hir  to 

To  loke   on    Mars,  that   god  is  of 

minde; 

batayle.                                    630 

87. 

And    wex    somdel    astonied    in    hir 

91.    So  lyk  a  man  of  armes  and  a  knight 

thought. 

He   was   to   seen,   fulfild   of   heigh 

Right  for  the  newe  cas;   but  whan 

prowesse; 

that  she 

For  bothe  he  hadde  a  body  and  a 

Was  ful  avysed,  the  fond  she  right 

might 

•nought                                       605 

To  doon  that  thing,  as  wel  as  hardi- 

Of  peril,   why   she    oughte    afered 

nesse; 

be. 

And  eek  to  seen  him  in  his  gere 

For  man  may  love,  of  possibilitee, 

him  dresse,                              635 

A  womman  so,   his  herte  may  to- 

So  fresh,  so  yong,  so  weldy  semed 

breste. 

he, 

And  she  nought   love  ayein,  but-if 

It  was  an  heven  up-on  him  for  to 

hir  leste. 

see. 

88. 

But  as  she  sat  allone  and  thoughte 

92.    His  helm  to-hewen  was  in  twenty 

thus,                                           610 

places. 

Thascry  aroos  at  skarmish  al  with- 

That  by  a  tissew  heng,  his  bak  bi- 

oute. 

hinde. 

And  men  cryde  in  the  strete,  'see, 

His     sheld     to-dasshed    was     with 

Troilus 

swerdes  and  maces,              640 

Hath   right    now   put   to   flight    the 

In  which  men  mighte  many  an  arwe 

Grekes  route  ! ' 

finde 

With  that  gan  al  hir  meynee  for  to 

That  thirled   hadde   horn  and  nerf 

shoute. 

and  rinde; 

'  A !   go  we  see,  caste  up  the  latis 

And    ay    the    peple    cryde,    '  here 

wyde;                                         615 

cometh  our  loye, 

For  thurgh   this  strete  he  moot  to 

And,  next  his  brother,  holdere  up  of 

palays  ryde; 

Troye ! ' 

89. 

For  other  wey  is  fro  the  yate  noon 

93.  For  which  he  wex  a  litel  reed  for 

Of     Dardanus,    ther     open    is    the 

shame,                                        645 

cheyne.' 

Whan  he  the  peple  up-on  him  herde 

With   that   com  he  and  al  his  folk 

cryen, 

anoon 

That    to    biholde    it   was    a    nol)le 

An     esy     pas     rydinge,    in     routes 

game, 

tweyne,                                      620 

How  sobreliche   he   caste   doun  his 

Right  as  his  happy  day  was,  sooth 

yen. 

to  seyne. 

Cryscyda  gan  al  his  chere  aspyen, 

650-701.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK    II. 


243 


And   leet   so   softe  it   in   hir   hcrte 

And  after  that,  his  manhod  and  his 

sinke,                                       650  , 

;    .  .               Pyne 

That  to^hir-seif  she  spyde,  '  who  yaf 

Made    love   with-inne   hir    for   to 

me  drinke?'  /    <t.i^-.-L,  /i*-*f/L' 

myne. 

For  which,  by  proces  and  by  good 

94- 

For  of  hir  owene  thought  she  wex 

servyse. 

al  reed. 

He  gat  hir  love,  and  in  no  sodeyn 

Remembringe   hir   right   thus,    '  lo, 

wyse. 

this  is  he 

Which  that  myn  uncle  swereth  he 

98.    And  also  blisful  Venus,  wel  arayed. 

moot  he  deed. 

Sat  in  hir  seventhe  hous  of  hevene 

But    I    on    him    have    mercy    and 

tho,                                         681 

pitee;  '                                         655 

Disposed   wel,  and  with    aspectes 

And    with    that    thought,    for    pure 

payed,    o_ j.  v  vN^>-f-vi_i 

a-shamcd,  she 

To  helpen  sely  Troilus  of  his  wo. 

Can  in  hir  heed  to  puUe,  and  that 

And,  sooth  to  seyn,  she  nas  nat  al 

as  faste, 

a  fo 

Whyl  he  and  al   the    peple    for-by 

To  Troilus  in  his  nativitee;         685 

paste. 

God  woot  that  wel  the  soner  spedde 
he. 

95- 

And  gan  to  caste  and  rollen  up  and 

iloun 

99.  Now   lat    us    stinte    of   Troilus    a 

With-inne  hir  thought  his  excellent 

throwe. 

prowesse,                                   660 

That  rydeth  forth,  and  lat  us  tourne 

And  his  estat  and  also  his  renoun. 

faste 

His  wit,  his  shap,  and  eek  his  gen- 

Un-to  Criseyde,  that  heng  hir  heed 

tillesse; 

ful  lowe. 

But  most  hir  favour  was,  for  his  dis- 

Ther-as  she  sat  allone,  and  gan  to 

tresse 

caste                                       690 

Was  al  for  hir,  and  thoughte  it  was 

Wher-on  she  wolde  apoynte  hir  at 

a  routhe 

the  laste. 

To  sleen  swich  oon,  if  that  he  mente 

If  it   so   were  hir  eem   ne  wolde 

trouthe.                                    665 

cesse. 
For    Troilus,    up-on    hir     for     to 

96. 

Now   mighte    som   envyous    langle 

thus 

presse. 

'  This  was  a  sodeyn  love,  how  mighte 

ICO.    And,    lord !     so    she    gan   in    hir 

it  be 

thought  argue 

That  she  so  lightly  lovede  Troilus 

In  this  matere  of  which  I  have  yow 

Right  for  the  tirste  sighte;    ye,  par- 

told,                                        695 

dee?' 

And  what  to  doon  best  were,  and 

Now  who-so  seylh  so,  mote  he  never 

what  eschue. 

thee !  *UvrfU>~                            670 
For  every  thing,  a  ginning,  hath  it 

That  plvted  she  ful  ofte  in  many 

fold. 

nede 

Now  was  hir  herte  warm,  now  was 

Er  al  be  wrought,  with-outen   any 

it  cold. 

drede. 

And  what  she  thoughte  somwhat 
shal  I  wryte, 

97- 

For  I  sey  nought  that  she  so  sodeynly 

As    to   myn   auctor   listeth    for   to 

Yaf  him  hir  love,  but  that  she  gan 

endyte.                                   700 

enclyne 

To  lyke  him  first,  and  I  have  told 

loi.    She    thoughte    wel,    that    Troilus 

yow  why;                                 675 

persone 

244 


TROlI.rS    AND    C'RISKVDK.     I'.OOK    II. 


[702-754. 


She  knew  by  sightc  and  cck  his 

lie  shal  me  never  binde  in  swiche 

gcntillesse, 
And    thus  she  scydo,    '  al    were    it 
noujjlit  to  di)nc, 

105. 

a  clause. 
Now    set    a    cas,    the    hardest    is, 

To  Krauiito  hiiu    love,  yet,  for  his 

worlhiiK'SSC, 
It  were  honour,  with  ploy  and  with 

gladnesse,                                705 
In  honestcc,  with  swich  a  lurd  to 

dele, 
For  niviu"    cstat,  and    also  for  his 

hcU'. 

y-wis, 
Men  mightcn  dome  that  he  loveth 

me :                                           7,^0 
What  dishonour  were  it  un-to  me, 

this?            «k.^i,v*J^ 

May  1  him  leMe  of  that  ?  why  nay, 

jiardee ! 
I  knowe  also,  and  alday  here  ami 

see. 

102.    Eok,  wcl  wot   I  Miv  kiiip;os  sone  is 
he; 
And  sith  he  hath  to  see  me  swich 

Men  loven  wonunen  al    this    toun 

aboute; 
l?e  they  the  wers?    why,  nay,  with- 

delyt. 
If    1     wolde     utterly      his     sij^hte 
(lee,                                           710 

106. 

outen  doute.                          735 
I  thenk  eck  how  he  able  is  for  to 

Taraunter   he  iiii^hte   have   me    in 

dispyt. 
Thur^^h  whieh   I   inightc  ^tonde  in 

have 
()f  all  this  noble  toun  the  thriftiesto. 
To  been  his  love,  so  she  hir  honour 

worse  plyt;       ,,.a  ,    "  '■ 
Now    were    I    wys,    mc    liale     to 

purehace, 
With-outen  nedc.ther  1  may  stonde 

in  f^racc? 

save  ; 
For  out  and  out  he  is  the  worthieste, 
Save  only  Fetor,  which  that  is  the 

beste.                                      740 
And  yet  his  lyf  al  lyth  now  in  my 

103.    In    every    thing,  1    wont  Iher  lytli 

cure, 
lUit    swich  is  love,  and   cck    myn 

mesure.                                    7 1 5 

aventure. 

I'or  though  a  man  forhede  dronk- 

enesse. 
He     nougiit     for-bet     that     every 

107. 

Ne   mo    to    love,   a   wonder   is   it 
nought ; 

creature 

l'\>r  wel  wot  I  my-self.  so  god  me 

Be    drinkelees     for    alwey,    as     I 

gesso ; 
Eck  sith  I  woot  for  mo  is  Ids  dis- 

tresse, 
I  nc  oughle  not  for  that  tlung  him 

s]iede. 
W  wolde  I   that  noon  wiste  of  this 

thought,                                   745 
I  am  oon  liie  fayreste,  out  of  drede. 
And     goodlieste,     who-so     taketh 

despyse,                                   7J0 
Sith    it  is  si>,  he   moneth   in   good 

hode; 
And  so  men  seyn  in  al  the  toun  of 

wyse. 

Troye. 

NVhat  wonder  is  it  though  he  of  me 

104.     And   eck    1    knowo,  of  longo   tvmc 

have  loye?                              741) 

y       agoon. 
^«-'"^     His    tiiewes  goode,  and  that   he  is 
yy^          not  nyce. 
\^^      Ne  avauntour,  seyth  men,  cortein, 
is  he  noon;                             7J4 

loS. 

1  an^  myn  owene  woman,  wel  at  ese, 
I  thank  it  god,  as  after  myn  estat; 
Riglit  yongo,  and  stonde  unteyd  in 
luste  lose. 

To  wys  is  he  to  do  so  grot  a  vyce; 
Ne  ais  I  nel  him  never  so  cheryce. 
That  he  may  make  avaunt,  by  luste 
cause ; 

With-outen      lalousye     or      swich 

debat; 
Shal  noon   htnisiionde  seyn  to  me 

"  chekmat !  " 

755-804.] 


TKOILUS  AND    CRISEYDE.     BOOK    II. 


245 


For     cither      they     ben      ful      of 
laluusyc,  755 

Or  niaistcrful,  or  loven  novelryc. 

109.  What   shal    I    doon?   to  what  fyn 

live  I  thus? 
Shal   I  nat  loven,  in  cas  if  that  me 

kste  ? 
What,  par  dieiix !     I    am   nought 

religious  I 
And  though  that  I  myn  herte  sette 

at  rcste  760 

Upon    this    knight,    that     is     the 

worthieste, 
And  kcpe  alwey  myn  honour  and 

my  name, 
By   alle   right,  it   may   do    me    no 

shame.' 

1 10.  But  right  as  whan  the  sonne  shyncth 

hrighte. 
In    March,    that    chaungeth    ofte 

tynie  his  face,  765 

And  that  a  cloud  is  put  with  wind 

to  flighte 
Which    over-sprat    the    sonne    as 

for  a  space, 
A  cloudy  thought  gan  thorugh  hir 

soule  pace, 
That    over-spradde     hir     brighte 

thoughtes  alle, 
So    that  fur    fere   almost  she  gan 

to  falle.  770 

111.  That  thought  was  this,  '  Alias !  sin 

I  am  free, 
Sholde  I   now  love,  and  putte  in 

lupartyc 
My  sikcrnesse,  and  thrallcn  liber- 
tee? 
Alias!  how  dorste  I  thenken  that 

folye? 
May    I    nought  wel  in  other    folk 

aspye  775 

Ilir    dredful    loye,   hir   constreynt, 

and  hir  peyne? 
Ther   loveth  noon,   that  she    nath 

why  to  pleyne. 

112.  For  love  is  yet  the  mostc   stormy 

lyf, 

Right  of  him-self,    that    ever    was 
bigonne; 


For  ever  som  mistrust,  or  nyce 
stryf,  780 

Ther  is  in  love,  som  cloud  is  over 
the  Sonne: 

Ther-to  we  wrecched  wommen  no- 
thing conne, 

Whan  us  is  wo,  but  wepe  and  sittc 
and  thinke; 

Our  wreche  is  this,  our  owene  wo 
to  drinke. 

113.  Also  these  wikked  tonges  been  so 

prest  785 

To   speke   us   harm,  eek    men  be 

so  untrewe. 
That,  right  anoon  as  cessed  is  hir 

lest, 
So  cesseth  love,  and  forth  to  love 

a  newe : 
But  harm  y-doon,  is  doon,  who-so 

it  rewe. 
For  though    these    men    for    love 

hem  first  to-rende,  790 

Ful  sharp  biginning   brcketh    ofte 

at  ende. 

1 14.  How  ofte  tyme  hath  it   y-knowen 

be, 
The  treson,  that  to  womman  hath 

be  do? 
To  what  fyn  is  swich  love,  I  can 

nat  see. 
Or   wher    biqomth    it,   whan    it    is 

ago;  795 

Ther  is  no  wight  that  woot,  I  trowe 

so, 
Wher  it  bycomth ;    lo,  no  wight  on 

it  sporneth ; 
That  erst  was  no-thing,  in-to  nought 

it  torneth. 


115.    How  bisy,  if  I  love,  eek  moste  I 
be 

To  plesen  hem  that  langle  of  love, 
and  demen, 

And  coye  hem,  that  they  se 
harm  of  me  ? 

For  though  ther  be  no  cause,  yet 
hem  semen 

Al  i)e  for  harm  that  folk  hir  freendes 
([ucmen  ;        ^jf^*"^^^ 

And  who  may  stbppen  every  wik- 
ked tonge, 


f  love.  J 

y  non        j 


246 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[S05-855. 


Or  soun  of  belles  whyl   that   they 

For  never  yet  thy  grace  no  wight 

be  ronge? '                              805 

sente 
So  blisful  cause  as  me,  my  lyf  to 

116.    And  after  that,  hir  thought  bigan 

lede 

to  clere, 

In  alle    loye   and   seurtee,  out  of 

And  seyde, '  he  which  that  no-thing 
under-taketh, 

^■^^'l^-   i^j^ 

No-thing  ne  acheveth,  be  him  looth 

120. 

Ye,  blisful   god,    han   me   so   wel 

or  dere.' 

beset 

And    with    an    other    thought    hir 

In  love,  y-wis,  that  al  that  bereth 

herte  quaketh; 

lyf                             835 

Than  slepeth  hope,  and  after  dreed 

Imaginen  ne    cowde   how  to   ben 

awaketh;                                 810 

bet; 

Now    hoot,    now   cold;     but    thus, 

For,  lord,  with-outen   lalousye   or 

bi-twixen  tweye, 

stryf. 

She  rist  hir  up,    and  went  hir  for 

I    love   oon   which    that   is   most 

to  pleye. 

ententyf 
To  serven  wel,  unwery  or  unfeyned. 

117.    Adoun  the  steyre  anoon-right  tho 

That  ever  was,  and  leest  with  harm 

she  wente 

distreyned.                            840 

In-to   the  gardin,  with   her   neces 

three. 

121. 

As  he  that  is  the  welle  of  worthi- 

And  up  and  doun  ther  made  many 

nesse. 

a  wente,    ^ja-  .                      815 

Of  trouthe  ground,  mirour  of  good- 

Flexippe,  she,  Tharbe,  and  Antig- 

liheed. 

one, 

Of   wit    Appollo,  stoon  of    siker- 

To  pleyen,  that  it  loye  was  to  see ; 

nesse. 

And  othere  of  hir  wommen,  a  gret 

Of  vertu  rote,  of  lust  findere  and 

route. 

heed. 

Hir  folwede  in  the  gardin  al  aboute. 

Thurgh  which  is  alle  sorwe  fro  me 
deed,                                      845 

118.   This   yerd   was   large,   and   rayled 

Y-wis,  I  love  him  best,  so  doth  he 

alle  the  alqyes,                     820 

me; 

And    shadwed    wel    with    blosmy 

Now  good  thrift  have  he,  wher-so 

bowes  grene. 

that  he  be ! 

And   benched    newe,    and   sonded 

alle  the  weyes. 

122. 

Whom  sholde  I  thanke  but    yow. 

In  which  she  walketh  arm  in  arm 

god  of  love. 

bi-twene; 

Of  al  this  blisse,  in  which  to  bathe 

Til  at  the  laste  Antigone  the  shene 

I  ginne? 

Gan    on    a   Troian  song    to    singe 

And  thanked  be  ye,  lord,  for  that 

clere                                       825 

I  love  !                                     850 

That  it  an  heven  was  hir  voys  to 

^^ 

This  is  the   righte   lyf  that   I  am 

here.  — 

/           inne. 

/J 

To   flemen  alle  manere  vyce    and 

1 19.    She  seyde, '  0  love,  to  whom  I  have 

v.y^ 

sinne : 

and  shal 

I 

This  doth    me   so  to  vertu  for   to 

Ben  humble  subgit,  trewe  in  myn 

entende. 

entente, 

That    day   by    day   I    in    my   wil 

As  I  best  can,  to  yow,  lord,  yeve 

amende. 

ich  al 

For  ever-more,  myn  hertes  lust  to 

123. 

And  who-so  seyth  that  for  to  love 

rente.                                     830 

is  vyce,                                855 

856-9050 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


247 


Or  thraldom,  though  ho  fclc  in  it 

clistrcssse, 
He    outhcr   is   envyous,    or    right 

nyce, 
Or  is  uiimighty,  for  his   shrewed- 

nesse, 
To  luvL-n;    for    swich    maner   folk, 

I  gcsse, 
Dcfanifii  love,  as  no-thing  of  him 

knowe;  S60 

They  speken,  but  they  bente  never 

his  bowe. 

124.  What  is  the  sonne  wers,  of  kinde 

righte. 
Though  that  a  man,  for  feblesse  of 

his  yen, 
May  nought  endure   on   it   to  see 

for  brighte? 
Or  love  the  wers,  though  wrecches 

on  it  cryen?  865 

No   wele    is    worth,    that    may    no 

sorwe  dryen. 
And    for-thy,   who   that    hath    an 

heed  of  verre,    U*^  '^.(rLj^^" 
Fro  cast  of  stones  war  him  in  the 

werre ! 

125.  But  I  with  al  myn  herte  and  al  my 

might. 
As  I  have  seyd,  wol  love,  un-to  my 

laste,  870 

My  dere  herte,  and  al  myn  owene 

knight. 
In  which  myn  herte  growen  is  so 

faste, 
And  his  in   me,  that   it  shal  ever 

laste. 
Al  dredde    I    first    to  love  him  to 

biginne. 
Now  wool  I  wel,  ther  is  no  peril 

inne.'  875 

126.  And  of  hir   song   right  with    that 

wort!  she  stente. 
And  ther\vith-al,  '  now,  nece,'  ([uod 

Criseyde, 
'  Who  made  this  song  with  so  good 

entente?  ' 
Antigone     answerde    anoon,    and 

seyde, 
'  Ma  dame,   y-wis,    the   goodlieste 

mayde  880 


Of  greet    estat    in    al  the  toun  of 

Troye ; 
And  let  hir  lyf  in  most  honour  and 

loye.' 

127.  '  Forsothe,    so     it    semeth    by    hir 

song,' 
Quod  tho  Criseyde,  and  gan  ther- 

with  to  syke, 
And  seyde,  '  lord,  is   there   swich 

blisse  among  S85 

These   lovers,  as  they  conne  faire 

endyte? ' 
'  Ye,  wis,'  quod  fresh  Antigone  the 

whyte, 
'  For  alle  the  folk  that  han  or  been 

on  lyve 
Ne   conne  wel   the  blisse  of  love 

discryve. 

128.  But  wene   ye   that  every  wrecche 

woot  890 

The  parfit  blisse  of  love?  why,  nay, 

y-wis ; 
They  wenen  al  be  love,  if  oon  be 

hoot; 
Do  wey,  do   wey,  they   woot   no- 
thing of  this ! 
Men  mosten  axe  at  seyntes  if  it  is 
Aught  fair   in    hevene;    why?    for 
they  conne  telle;  895 

And    axen    fendes,    is    it   foul   in 
helle.' 

129.  Criseyde  un-to  that  purpos  nought 

answerde, 
But  seyde,  '  y-wis,  it  wol  be  night 

as  faste.' 
But  every  word  which  that  she  of 

hir  herde. 
She  gan    to   prenten  in    hir    herte 

faste ;  900 

And  ay  gan  love  hir  lasse   for  to 

agaste 
Than  it  dide  erst,  and    sinkcn    in 

hir  herte. 
That    she    wex   somwhat   able    to 

converte. 

130.  The  dayes  honour,  and  the  hevenes 

ye, 

The  nightes  fo,  al  this  clepe  I  the 
Sonne,  9°$ 


248 


TROILUS   AND   CRISF:YDE.     B(X)K    II. 


[906-955. 


Gan  westren  faste,  and  dounward 

for  to  wrye, 
As  he  that  hadde  his  dayes  cours 

y-ronne; 
And  whyte  thinges  wexen  dimme 

and  donne 
For  lak  of  light,  and  sterres  for  to 

appere, 
That  she  and  al  hir  folk  in  wente 

y-fere.  910 

131.  So  whan   it  lyked  hir  to  goon  to 

reste, 
And  voyded  weren  they  that  voy- 

den  oughte, 
She  seyde,  that   to   slepe  wel    hir 

leste. 
Hir  wommen  sone  til  hir  bed  hir 

broughte. 
Whan  al  was    bust,    than    lay  she 

stilie,  and  thoughte  915 

Of  al  this  thing   the  manere  and 

the  vvyse. 
Reherce  it  nedeth  nought,  for   ye 

ben  wyse. 

132.  A     nightingale,     upon     a     cedre 

grene, 
Under    the   chambre-wal    ther   as 

she  lay, 
Ful   loude    sang   ayein   the    mone 

shene,  920 

Paraunter,  in   his  briddes  wyse,  a 

lay 
Of  love,  that  made  hir  herte  fresh 

and  gay. 
That  herkned  she  so  longe  in  good 

entente, 
Til  at  the  laste  the  dede  sleep  hir 

hente. 

133.  And,  as  she  sleep,  anoon-right  tho 

hir  mette.  925 

How  that  an  egle,  fethered  whyt 
as  boon,    V-rvJ^ 

Under  hir  brest  his  longe  clawes 
sette. 

And  out  hir  herte  he  rente,  and 
that  a-noon. 

And  dide  his  herte  in-to  hir  brest 
to  goon. 

Of  which  she  nought  agroos  ne  no- 
thing smerte,  930 


And  forth  he  fleigh,  with  herte  left 
for  herte. 

134.  Now  lat  hir  slepe,  and  we  our  tales 

holde 
Of  Troilus,  that  is  to  paleys  riden, 
Fro  the  scarmuch,  of  the  whiche  I 

tolde. 
And  in  his  chambre  sit,  and  hath 

abiden  935 

Til   two  or  three  of  his  messages 

yeden 
For  Pandarus,  and  soughten   him 

ful  faste. 
Til  they  him  founde,  and  broughte 

him  at  the  laste. 

135.  This   Pandarus  com   leping   in   at 

ones 
And   seide   thus,   '  who   hath   ben 

wel  y-bete  940 

To-day    with    swerdes,   and    with 

slinge-stones. 
But  Troilus,  that  hath  caught  him 

an  hete?' 
And  gan  to  lape,  and  seyde,  '  lord, 

so  ye  swete ! 
But  rys,  and  lat  us  soupe  and  go 

to  reste;  ' 
And  he  answerde  him,  *  do  we  as 

thee  leste.'  945 

1 36.  With  al  the  haste  goodly  that  they 

mighte. 
They  spedde  hem   fro   the  souper 

un-to  bedde; 
And  every  wight  out  at  the  dore 

him  dighte. 
And  wher  him  list  upon   his  wey 

he  spedde; 
But  Troilus,  that  thoughte  his  herte 

bledde  950 

For  wo,  til  that  he  herde  som  tyd- 

inge, 
He  seyde, '  freendjshal  I  nowwepe 

or  singe? ' 

137.  Quod  Pandarus,  '  ly  stilie,  and  lat 

me  slepe. 
And    don   thyn    hood,    thy   nedes 

spedde   be; 
And  chese,  if  thou  wolt  singe  or 

daunce  or  lepe;  955 


956-1005.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


249 


At  shorte  wordes,  thow  shall  trowe 

141.    But    lord,  how  shal    I    doon,   how 

me.  — 

shal  I  liven? 

Sire,    my    nece    wol    do    wel    by 

Whan  shal  I  next  my  dere   herte 

thee, 

see? 

And  love  thee  best,  by  god  and  by 

How   shal   this  longe  tyme  a-wey 

my  troutho. 

be  driven. 

But  lak  of  pursuit  make  it  in  thy 

Til   that   thou  be  ayein  at  hir  fro 

slouthe. 

me? 

Thou    mayst    answere,    "  a-byd,  a- 

138.    For  thus  ferforth  I  have  thy  work 

byd,"  but  he                           985 

higunne,                                  960 

That  hangeth  by  the  nekke,  sooth 

Fro  day  to  day,  til  this  day,  by  the 

to  seyne. 

morwe. 

In   grete    disese   abydeth    for    the 

Ilir  love  of  freendship  have  I  to 

peyne.' 

thee  wonne. 

And  also  hath  she  leyd  hit  feyth  to 

142.    'Al    esily,   now,   for    the    love    of 

borwe. 

Marte,' 

Algate   a    foot   is   hameled  of  thy 
sorwe.'                    C*^*  w^ 

Quod    Pandarus,  '  for   every   thing 

hath  tyme  ; 

What  sholde  I  lenger  sermon  of  it 

So  longe  abyd    til    that    the  night 

holde?                                      965 

departe ;                                  990 

As  ye  han  herd  bifore,  al  he  him 

For  al  so  siker  as  thow  lyst  here 

tokle. 

by  me, 

And  god  toforn,  I  wol  be  there  at 

139.    But  right  as    floures,    thorugh    the 

pryme, 

colde  of  night 

And    for   thy  werk   somwhat  as  I 

Y-closed,    stoupen    on    hir    stalkes 

shal  seye. 

lowe. 

Or  on  som  other  wight  this  charge 

Redrcssen    hem  a-yein    the  Sonne 

leye. 

bright, 

And   spreden    on    hir  kinde   cours 

143.    For  pardee,  god  wot,  I  have  ever 

by  rowe;                                 970 

yit                                           995 

Right  so  gan   tho  his  eyen  up  to 

Ben  redy  thee  to  serve,  and  to  this 

throwe 

night 

This  Troilus,  and  seyde,  '  O  Venus 

Have  I  nought  fayned,  but  emforth 

dere, 

my  wit 

Thy  might,  thy  grace,  y-heried  be 

Don  al  thy  lust,  and  shal  with  al 

it  here  !  ' 

my  might. 

Do  now  as   I  shal  seye,  and  fare 

140.    And  to  Pandare  he  held  up  bothe 

a-right  ; 

his  hondes. 

And   if  thou  nilt,  wyte  al  thy-self 

And  seyde,  '  lord,  al  thyn  be  that  1 

thy  care,                               1000 

have  ;                                       975 

On  me  is  nought  along  thyn  yvel 

For  1  am  hool,  al  brosten  been  my 

fare. 

bondes ; 

A    thousand    Troians  who  so    that 

144.    I    woot   wel   that   thow   wyser  art 

me  yave. 

than  I 

Eche  after   other,  god   so  wis  me 

A  thousand  fold,  but  if  I  were  as 

save. 

thou. 

Ne    mighte    me     so    gladen  ;     lo. 

God  heipe  me  so,  as  I  wolde  out- 

myn  herte. 

rely. 

It  spredeth  so  for  loye,  it  wol  to- 

Right  of  myn  owene  bond,  wryte 

sterte !                                      980 

hir  right  now                       1005 

250 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[100 6-1057. 


A    lettre,    in    which    I    wolde    hir 

tellen  how 
I  ferde  amis,  and  hir    beseche  of 

routhe  ; 
Now  help  thy-self,  and  leve  it  not 

for   slouthe. 

145.  And  I  my-self  shal  ther-with  to  hir 

goon  ; 
And   whan    thou  wost    that    I   am 

with  hir  there,  loio 

Worth  thou  up-on  a  courser  right 

anoon, 
Ye,  hardily,  right  in  thy  beste  gere, 
And    ryd    forth    by    the    place,    as 

nought  ne  were, 
And  thou  shall  hnde  us,  if  I  may, 

sittinge 
At  som  windowe,  in-to   the  strete 

lokinge.  1015 

146.  And  if  thee  list,  than  maystow  us 

saluwe. 
And  up-on  me   make    thy    conte- 

naunce  ; 
But,  by  thy  lyf,  be  war  and  faste 

eschuwe 
To  tarien  ought,  god  shilde  us  fro 

mischaunce  ! 
Ryd  forth    thy  wey,  and  hold  thy 

governaunce  ;  1020 

And  we  shal   speke   of  thee   som- 

what,  I  trowe, 
Whan  thou  art  goon,  to  do  thyne 

eres  glowe ! 

147.  Touching  thy  lettre,  thou  art  wys 

y-nough, 
I    woot    thow    nilt    it    digneliche 

endyte; 
As  make  it  with  thise  argumentes 
tough;  1025 

Ne   scrivenish    or   craftily   thou   it 
{sV"  wryte ; 

cT  Bcblotte   it   with    thy   teres  eek  a 

^  lyte ; 

'■,.  And  if  thou  wryte  a  goodly  word 
^,<"  <"       al  softe, 
^  *■"  v^  J   Though  it  be  good,  reherce  it  not 
^  JS    ' '  to  ofte. 

*  ■       148.    For  though  the  beste  harpour  upon 
•^  lyve  1030 


Wolde    on    the    beste  souned  loly 

harpe 
That  ever  was,  with  alle  his  fingres 

Touche  ay  o  streng,  or  ay  o  werbul 

harpe, 
Were  his  nayles  poynted  never  so 

sharpe. 
It   shulde    maken   every   wight   to 

duUe,  1035 

To  here  is  glee,  and  of  his  strokes 

fulle. 

149.  ,Ne    lompre   eek    no    discordaunt 

thing  y-fere, 
1="     As  thus,  to  usen  termes  of  phisyk; 
In  loves  termes,  hold  of  thy  ma- 

tere 
The  forme  alwey,  and  do  that  it  be 

lyk;  1040 

For  if  a  peyntour  wolde  peynte  a 

pyk 
With  asses  feet,  and  hede  it  as  an 

ape, 
It  cordeth  nought;  so  nere  it  but 

a  lape.' 

150.  This  counseyl  lyked  wel  to  Troilus; 
But,  as  a  dreedful  lover,  he  seyde 

this  :  —  1045 

'  Alias,  my  dere  brother  Pandarus, 
I  am  ashamed  for  to  wryte,  y-\vis, 
Lest   of    myn   innocence    I   seyde 

a-mis. 
Or   that   she   nolde    it   for   despyt 

receyve; 
Thanne  were  I  deed,  there  mighte 

it  no-thing  weyve.'  1050 

151.  To  that  Pandare  answerde,  '  if  thee 

lest. 
Do   that   I  seye,  and  lat  me  ther- 
with  goon; 
For  by  that  lord    that    formed  est 

and  west, 
I    hope    of    it    to    bringe    answere 

anoon, 
Right  of  hir  bond,  and  if  that  thou 

nilt  noon,  i^SS 

Lat    be  ;    and   sory  mote    he  been 

his    lyve, 
Ayeins  thy  lust   that  helpeth  thee 

to  thryve.' 


I058-II07.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK    II. 


251 


152. 

Quod  Troilus,  '  Depardietix,    I  as- 

But   that  was  endeles,   with-outen 

scntc; 

ho; 

Sin  that  thee  list,  I  will  aryse  and 

And    seyde,   he   wolde    in   trouthe 

wryte ; 

alwey  him  hold;  — 

And    blisful   god  preye   ich,   with 

And    radde    it    over,  and  gan    the 

good  entente,                      1060 

lettre  folde.                          1085 

The  vyage,  and    the    lettre  I  shal 

endyte, 

156. 

And   with   his  salte  teres  gan    he 

So   spede   it ;   and  thou,  Minerva, 

bathe 

the  whyte, 

The    ruby    in    his    signet,    and    it 

Yif  thou  nie  wit  my  lettre  to  de- 

sette 

vyse :  ' 

Upon    the   wex    deliverliche    and 

And   sette   him    doun,   and  wroot 

rathe; 

right  in  this  wyse.  — 

Ther-with  a  thousand  tymes,  er  he 

lette. 
He    kiste    tho   the   lettre   that   he 

'53- 

First    he    gan    hir    his  righte  lady 

calle,                                     1065 

shette,                                   1090 

His  hertes  lyf,  his  lust,  his  sorwes 

And  seyde,   '  lettre,  a  blisful    des- 

leche, 

tenee 

His   blisse,    and    eek    this   othere 

Thee  shapen  is,  my  lady  shal  thee 

termes  alle, 

see.' 

That  in  swich  cas  these  loveres  alle 

seche ; 

157- 

This  Pandare  took  the  lettre,  and 

And  in  ful  humble  wyse,  as  in  his 

that  by  tyme 

speche. 

A-morwe,  and  to  his  neces  paleys 

He  gan  him  recomaunde  un-to  hir 

sterte. 

grace;                                     1070 

And    faste   he   swoor,  that   it  was 

To    telle  al    how,  it  axeth  muchel 

passed  pryme,                     1095 

space. 

And  gan  to  tape,  and  seyde, '  y-wis, 
myn  herte. 

154. 

And    after   this,    ful   lowly   he    hir 

So    fresh    it    is,    al-though   it   sore 

prayde 

smerte. 

To  be  nought  wrooth,  though  he. 

I   may  not   slepe   never   a    Mayes 

of  his  folye, 

morwe ; 

So  hardy  was  to  hir  to  wryte,  and 

I  have  a  loly  wo,  a  lusty  sorwe.' 

seyde, 

That  love  it  made,  or  elles  moste 

158. 

Criseyde,  whan  that  she  hir  uncle 

he  dye,                                 1075 

herde,                                     1 100 

And    pitously   gan    mercy   for    to 

With  dreedful  herte,  and  desirous 

crye; 

to  here 

And  after  that    he  seyde,  and  ley 

The    cause    of   his    cominge,    thus 

ful  lourle. 

answerde. 

Him-self  was  litel  worth,  and  lesse 

'  Now  by  your  feyth,   myn   uncle,' 

he  coude; 

quod  she,  '  dere. 
What   maner   windes  gydeth   yow 

155- 

And  that  she  sholde  han  his  con- 

now here? 

ning  excused. 

Tel    us   your    loly   wo    and    your 

That  litel  was,  and  eek  he  dredde 

penaunce,                            1105 

hir  so,                                   1080 

How  ferforth  be   ye    put  in  loves 

And     his     unworthinesse     he     ay 

daunce.' 

acused; 

And  after  that,  than  gan  he  telle 

159. 

'  By  god,'  quod  he,  '  I  hoppe  alwey 

his  wo; 

bihinde ! ' 

252                             TROILUS    AND    CRISIiYDE.     BOOK    II.               [1108-1157. 

And  she  to-laugh,  it  thoughte  hir 

To  myn  estat  have  more  reward,  I 

herte  breste. 

preye, 

Quod  Pandarus, '  loke  alwey  that  ye 

Than  to  his  lust;    what  sholde  I 

finde 

more  seye? 

Game  in  myn  hood,  but  herkneth, 

if  yow  leste;                         mo 

163. 

And  loketh  now  if  this  be  reson- 

Ther  is  right  now  come  in-to  toune 

able,                                     1 1 35 

a  geste. 

And  letteth  nought,  for  favour  ne 

A  Greek    espye,  and  telleth  newe 

for  slouthe. 

thinges. 

To   seyn   a    sooth;     now   were   it 

For   which    come   I    to  telle   yow 

covenable 

tydinges. 

To  myn  estat,  by  god,  and  by  your 
trouthe, 

160.    Into  the  gardin  go  we,  and  we  shal 

To  taken  it,  or  to  han  of  him  routhe, 

here. 

In  harming   of  my-self  or   in   re- 

Al    prevely,   of    this   a    long   ser- 

preve?                                    1 140 

moun.'                                    1 1 15 

Ber  it  a-yein,  for  him  that  ye  on 

With  that  they  wenten  arm  in  arm 

leve ! ' 

y-fere 

In-to  the  gardin  from  the  chaumbre 

164. 

This  Pandarus  gan  on   hir    for    to 

doun. 

stare. 

And  whan  that  he  so  fer  was  that 

And  seyde, '  now  is  this  the  grettest 

the  soun 

wonder 

Of  that    he    speke,   no    man    here 

That  ever  I  sey !  lat  be  this  nyce 

mighte, 

fare! 

He  seyde    hir   thus,    and  out   the 

To  deethe  mote  I  smiten  be  with 

lettre  plighte,                      11 20 

thonder,                                 1145 
If,  for  the  citee  which  that  stondeth 

161.    'Lo,   he   that   is   al  hooUy  youres 

yonder. 

free 

Wolde  I  a  lettre  un-to  yow  bringe 

Him   recomaundeth  lowly  to  your 

or  take 

grace. 

To  harm   of  yow;    what   list   yow 

And  sent  to  you  this  lettre  here  by 

thus  it  make? 

me; 

Avyseth  you  on  it,  whan   ye   han 

165. 

But  thus  ye  faren,  well  neigh  alle 

space. 

and  some. 

And  of  som  goodly  answere    yow 

That  he  that  most  desireth  yow  to 

purchace;                              H25 

serve,                                    1 1 50 

Or,  helpe  me  god,  so  pleynly  for  to 

Of  him  ye  recche   leest  wher   he 

seyne, 

bicome. 

He   may    not   longe  liven    for   his 

And  whether  that  he  live  or  elles 

peyne.' 

sterve. 
But   for  al  that   that  ever   I   may 

162.    Ful  dredfully  tho  gan  she  stonde 

deserve. 

stille. 

Refuse    it    nought,'  quod   he,    and 

And   took    it    nought,   but   al    hir 

hente  hir  faste. 

humble  chere 

And  in  hir  bosom  the  lettre  doun 

Gan    for   to   chaunge,    and   seyde. 

he  thraste,                            1155 

'  scrit  ne  bille,                      1 130 

For  love  of  god,  that  toucheth  swich 

166. 

And  seyde  hir,  'now  cast  it  away 

matere, 

anoon. 

Ne  bring  me  noon;   and  also,  uncle 

That  folk  may  seen  and  gauren  on 

dere, 

us  tweye.' 

1 158-1209.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


253 


Quod  she,  '  I  can  abyde  til  they  be 

goon,' 
And  gan  to  smyle,  and  seyde  him, 

'  ecm,  I  preye, 
Swich  answere  as  yow  list  your-self 

purveye,  11 60 

For  trewely  I  nil  no  lettre  wryte.' 
•  No?  than  vvol  I,'  quod  he,  '  so  ye 

endyte.' 

167.  Therwith  she  lough,  and  seyde, 'go 

we  dyne.' 
And  he  gan  at  him-self  to  iape  faste. 
And  seyde, '  nece,  I  have  so  greet  a 

pyne  1 165 

For   love,  that   every  other   day  I 

faste '  — 
And  gan  his  heste  lapes  forth  to 

caste; 
And  made  hir  so  to  laughe  at  his 

folye, 
That  she  for  laughter  wende  for  to 

dye. 

168.  And  whan  that  she  was  comen  in-to 

halle,  1 1 70 

'Now,  eem,'  quod  she,  'we  wol  go 

dyne  anoon;  ' 
And  gan  some  of  hir  women  to  hir 

calle. 
And   streyght    in-to  hir  chaumbre 

gan  she  goon; 
But  of  hir  besinesses,  this  was  oon 
A-monges    othere    thinges,    out  of 

drede,  1 175 

Ful  prively  this  lettre  for  to  rede; 

169.  Avysed  word  by  word  in  every  lyne. 
And  fond  no  lak,  she  thoughte  he 

coude  good; 
And  up  it  putte  and  went  hir  in  to 

dyne. 
And    Pandarus,  that    in    a    study 

stood,  1 1  So 

Er  he  was  war,  she  took  him  by  the 

hood. 
And  seyde,  '  ye  were  caught  er  that 

ye  wiste  ;  ' 
'I  vouche  sauf,'  quod  he,  '  do  what 

yow  liste.' 

170.  Tho  wesshen  they,  and  sette   hem 

doun  and  ete; 


And  after  noon  ful  sleyly  Pan- 
darus 1185 

Gan  drawe  him  to  the  window  next 
the  strete, 

And  seyde, '  nece,  who  hath  arayed 
thus 

The  yonder  hous,  that  slant  afor- 
yeyn  us?' 

'Which  hous?'  quod  she,  and  gan 
for  to  l)iholde, 

And  knew  it  wel,  and  whos  it  was 
him  tolde,  1 190 

171.  And  fillcn  forth  in  speche  of  thinges 

smale. 
And  seten    in  the   window   bothe 

tweye. 
Whan  Pandarus  saw  tyme  un-to  his 

tale. 
And  saw  well  that  hir  folk  were  alle 

aweye, 
'  Now,  nece  myn,  tel  on,'  quod  he, 

'  I  seye,  1195 

How  lyketh  yow  the  lettre  that  ye 

woot? 
Can  he  ther-on  ?  for,  by  my  trouthe, 

I  noot.' 

172.  Therwith  al  rosy  hewed  tho  wex 

she. 
And  gan  to  humme,  and  seyde, '  so 

I  trowe.' 
'  Aquyte  him  wel,  for  goddes  love,'  "J. 

quod  he;  1200    >    . 

'  My-self  to   medes  wol  the  lettre 

sowe,' 
And  held  his  hondes  up,  and  sat  on 

knowe, 
'  Now,  goode  nece,  be  it  never  so 

lyte, 
Yif  me  the  labour,  it  to  sowe  and 

plyte.' 

173.  'Ye,  for  I  can  so  wryte,'  quod  she 

tho;  1205 

'  And  eek  I  noot  what  I  sholde  to 

him  seye.' 
'  Nay,   nece,'   quod    Pandarc,   '  sey 

not  so; 
Yet  at  the  leste  thanketh  him,  I 

preye. 
Of  his  good  wil,  and  doth  him  not 

to  deye. 


254 

TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II.              [1210-1259. 

Now  for  the  love  of  me,  my  nece 

Cometh  ende  good;  and  nece  myn, 

dere,                                       1210 

Criseyde,                              1235 

Refuseth     not    at    this    tyme    my 

That  ye  to  him  of  hard  now  ben 

preyere.' 

y-vvonne 
Oughte  he   be   glad,  by   god   and 

174- 

'  Depar-dieux,^  quod  she,  '  god  leve 

yonder  Sonne ! 

al  be  wel ! 

For-whymen  seyth,  "  impressiounes 

God  helpe  me  so,  this  is  the  firste 

lighte 

lettre 

Ful   lightly  been   ay   redy   to   the 

That  ever   I  wroot,  ye,  al  or   any 

del.' 
And  in-to  a  closet,  for  to  avyse  hir 

flighte." 

178. 

But  ye  han  pleyed  tyraunt   neigh 

bettre,                                    1215 

to  longe,                              1240 

She   wente    allone,    and   gan    hir 

And  hard  was  it  your  herte  for  to 

herte  unfettre 

grave; 

Out  of  disdaynes  prison  but  a  lyte; 

Now  stint,  that  ye  no  longer  on  it 

And    sette    hir    doun,    and    gan    a 

honge. 

lettre  vvryte. 

Al  wolde  ye  the  forme  of  daunger 
save. 

175- 

Of  which  to  telle  in  short  is  myn 

But  hasteth  yow  to  doon  him  loye 

entente 

have; 

Theffect,  as    fer  'as    I    can  under- 

For  trusteth  wel,  to  longe  y-doon 

stonde: —                             1220 

hardnesse                              1245 

She  thonked  him  of  al  that  he  wel 

Causeth  despyt    ful   often,  for  dis- 

mente 

tresse.' 

Towardes  hir,  but   holden  him  in 

honde 

179. 

And  right  as  they   declamed  this 

She    nolde   nought  ne   make    hir- 

matere. 

selven  bonde 

Lo,   Troilus,   right   at   the   stretes 

In  love,  but  as  his  suster,  him  to 

ende. 

plese, 

Com  ryding  with  his  tenthe  some 

She  wolde  fayn,  to  doon  his  herte 

y-fere, 

an  ese.                                  1225 

Al    softely,    and    thiderward    gan 
bende                                     1250 

176. 

She  shette  it,  and  to  Pandarus  gan 

Ther-as  they  sete,  as  was  his  wey 

goon. 

to  wende 

There  as   he  sat   and    loked  in-to 

To  paleys-ward;   and  Pandare  him 

strete. 

aspyde. 

And  doun  she  sette  hir  by  him  on 

And  seyde, '  nece,  y-see  who  cometh 

a  stoon 

here  ryde! 

Of  laspre,  up-on  a  quisshin   gold 

y-bete, 

180. 

0  flee  not  in,  he  seeth  us,  I  sup- 

And seyde,  '  as  vvisly  helpe  me  god 

pose; 

the  grete,                               1230 

Lest  he  may  thinke   that   ye  him 

I    never  dide   a   thing  with    more 

eschuwe.'                              1255 

peyne 

'  Nay,  nay,'  quod  she,  and  wex  as 

Than  wryte  this,  to  which  ye  me 

reed  as  rose. 

constreyne;  ' 

With   that    he    gan  hir  humbly  to 
saluwe. 

177. 

And  took  it  him  :  he  thonked  hir 

With  dreedful  chere,  and  ofte  his 

and  seyde. 

hewes  muvve; 

'  God  woot,  of  thing  ful  ofte  looth 

And    up    his   look    debonairly   he 

bigonne 

caste. 

t>^ 


I260-I309.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


25s 


And  bekked  on  Pandare,  and  forth 

'  Wel,'  quod   Pandare,  '  as  I  have 

he  paste.                              1260 

told  yow  thrye,                     1285 

Lat  be  your  nyce  shame  and  your 

181.    God  woot  if  he   sat   on   his   hors 

folye. 

a-right, 

And  spek  with  him  in  esing  of  his 

Or   goodly  was   beseyn,    that    ilke 

herte; 

day ! 

Lat    nycetee   not    do    yow    bothe 

God  woot  wher  he  was  lyk  a  manly 

knight ! 
What  sholde  I  drecche,  or  telle  of 

smerte.' 

185.    But  ther-on  was  to  heven  and   to 

his  aray? 

done; 

Criseyde,    which    that    alle    these 

Considered    al    tiling,    it   may  not 

thinges  say,                           1265 

be;                                        1290 

To    telle    in   short,    hir   lyked    al 

And  why,  for  shame;  and  it  were 

y-fere, 

eek  to  sone 

His  persone,  his  aray,  his  look,  his 

To  graunten   him   so   greet  a  lib- 

chere, 

ertee. 

'  Eor  playnly  hir  entente,'  as  seyde 

182.    His  goodly  manere  and    his   gen- 

she, 

tillesse, 

'  Was  for  to  love  him  unwist,  if  she 

So  wel,  that  never,  sith    that   she 

mighte, 

was  born. 

And   guerdon    him  with    no-thing 

Ne  hadde  she  swich  routhe  of  his 

but  with  sighte.'                  1295 

distresse;                               1270 

And   how-so   she   hath    hard    ben 

186.    But    Pandarus    thoughte,   'it   shal 

her-biforn. 

not  be  so. 

To   god    hope    I,   she    hath     now 

If  that    I    may;     this    nyce   opin- 

caught  a  thorn. 

ioun 

She  shal  not  pulle  it  out  this  nexte 

Shal    not    be    holden    fully   yeres 

wyke; 

two.' 

God  sende  mo  swich  thornes  on  to 

What  sholde  I  make  of  this  a  long 

pyke! 

sermoun  ? 

He   moste    assente    on   that   con- 

183.    Pandare,  which  that  stood  hir  faste 

clusioun                                 1300 

by,                                         1275 

As   for  the  tyme;   and  whan  that 

Felte  iren  hoot,  and    he  bigan  to 

it  was  eve, 

smyte, 

And  al  was  wel,  he  roos  and  took 

And    seyde,    'nece,    I    pray    yow 

his  leve. 

hertely. 

Tel  me  that  I  shal  axen  yow  a  lyte. 

187.    And  on  his  wey  ful  faste  homward 

A  womman,  that  were  of  his  deeth 

he  spedde, 

to  wyte. 

And   right    for    loye   he   felte  his 

With-outen    his    gilt,    but    for    hir 

herte  daunce; 

lakked  routhe,                    1280 

And    Troilus    he    fond    alone    a- 

Were    it  wel   doon?'     Quod   she, 

bedde,                                    1305 

'  nay,  by  my  trouthe  ! ' 

That  lay  as   dooth    these   loveres, 

in  a  traunce, 

184.    'God  helpe  me  so,'    quod  he,  'ye 

Bitwixen  hope  and  derk  desesper- 

sey  me  sooth. 

aunce. 

Ye  felen  wel    your-self  that  I  not 

But  Pandarus,  right  at  his  in-com- 

lye; 

inge. 

Lo,  yond  he  rit! '     Quod  she,  'ye, 

He  song,  as  who  seyth,  '  lo  !  sum- 

so  he  dooth.' 

what  I  bringe.' 

I 


256 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[1310-1360. 


188.    And  seyde,  'who  is  in  his  bed  so 

Or,  as   an   ook    cometh    of  a   litel 

sone                                        1310 

spyr,                            1335 

Y-buried  thus?'    'It  am  I,  freend,' 

So  through   this  lettre,  which  that 

quod  he. 

she   him  sente. 

'Who,  Troilus?  nay   helpe  me    so 

Encresen  gan  desyr,  of  which  he 

the  mone,' 

brente. 

Quod  Pandarus,  '  thou  shalt  aryse 

and  see 

192.    Wherfore  I  seye   alwey,   that  day 

A  charme  that  was  sent  right  now 

and  night 

to  thee, 

This  Troilus  gan  to  desiren  more 

The  which  can  helen  thee  of  tbyn 

Than   he    dide  erst,   thurgh    hope. 

accesse,                                  13 1 5 

and  dide  his  might             1340 

If  thou  do  forth-with  al  thy  besi- 

To  pressen  on,  as  by  Pandarus  lore, 

nesse.' 

And  wryten  to    hir  of  his   sorwes 

189.    'Ye,  through  the  might  of  god!' 

sore 
Fro   day   to   day  ;    he  leet  it   not 

quod   Troilus. 

refreyde, 

And  Pandarus  gan  him  the  lettre 

That   by  Pandare  he   wroot   som- 

take, 

what   or  seyde  ; 

And    seyde,     'pardee,    god    hath 

holpen  us; 

193.    And  dide  also  his  othere  observ- 

Have  here  a  light,  and  loke  on  al 

aunces                                  1345 

this  blake.'                            1 320 

That  to  a   lovere  longeth   in   this 

But  ofte  gan  the  herte  glade  and 

cas; 

quake 

And,  after  that  these  dees  turnede 

Of  Troilus,   why!   that   he   gan    it 

on   chaunces, 

rede. 

So  was  he  outher   glad   or   seyde 

So  as  the  wordes   yave  him  hope 

'alias!' 

or  drede. 

And  held  after  his   gestes   ay   his 

pas; 

190.    But    fynally,    he    took    al    for   the 

And   aftir  swiche  answeres  as   he 

beste 

hadde,                                  1350 

That  she  him  wroot,  for  sumwhat 

So    were    his    dayes    sory    outher 

he  biheld                               1325 

gladde. 

On  which,  him  thoughte,  he  niighte 

his  herte  reste. 

194.    But    to    Pandare    alwey    was    his 

Al  covered  she  the  wordes  under 

recours. 

sheld. 

And   pitously   gan   ay   til    him    to 

Thus  to  the  more  worthy  part  he 

pleyne. 

held, 

And   him  bisoughte    of  rede    and 

That,  what  for  hope  and  Pandarus 

som  socours  ; 

biheste. 

And    Pandarus,  that  sey  his  wode 

His  grete  wo  for-yede  he  at  the 

peyne,                                     1355 

leste.                                     1330 

Wax  wel   neigh    deed  for   routhe, 

sooth  to  seyne. 

191.    But   as   we    may  alday   our-selven 

And  bisily  with  al  his  herte  caste 

see, 

Som  of  his  wo  to  sleen,  and  that 

Through    more  wode   or   col,    the 

as  faste; 

more   fyr; 

Right  so  encrees  of  hope,  of  what 

195.    And  seyde,  'lord,  and  freend,  and 

it  be, 

brother  dere. 

Therwith    ful  ofte    encreseth    eek 

God  woot  that  thy  disese  dooth  me 

desyr; 

wo.                                        1360 

I36I-I41I.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


257 


But    vvoltow  stinten    al    this  vvoful 

Wlian     it    descendeth,    than    don 

chere, 

thinges  lighte. 

And,  by  my  trouthe,  or  it  be  daycs 

two, 

199.    And    reed    that    boweth    doun    for 

And  god  to-forn,  yet  shal  I  shape 

every  blast. 

it  so, 

Ful    lightly,    cesse    wind,    it    wol 

That  thou  shalt  come  in-to  a  certayn 

aryse ; 

place. 

But  so  nil  not  an  00k  whan  it   is 

Ther-as    thou    mayst    thy-self   hir 

cast; 

preye  of  grace.                   •  1 365 

It   nedeth   me   nought   thee    longe 

to  forbyse.                             1390 

196.    And   certainly,  I    noot    if  thou    it 

Men     shal     reioysen    of    a    greet 

wost. 

empryse 

But  tho  that  been  expert  in  love  it 

Acheved  wel,  and  stant  with-outen 

seye, 

doute, 

It  is  oon  of  the  thinges  that  further- 

Al  han  men  been  the  lenger  ther- 

eth  most, 

aboute. 

A    man    to   have  a   leyser   for   to 

preye, 

200.    But,Troilus,  yettel  me,  if  thee  lest. 

And    siker    place    his   wo    for    to 

A   thing   now   which   that    I    shal 

biwreye;                                 137° 

axen  thee;                             1395 

For   in   good   herte   it   moot    som 

Which   is    thy   brother   that   thou 

routhe  impresse, 

lovest  best 

To   here    and   see    the    giltles    in 

As  in  thy  verray  hertes  privctee?' 

distresse. 

'  Y-wis,    my    brother    Deiphebus,' 

quod  he. 

197.    Paraunter   thenkestow :    though    it 

'  Now,'    quod  Pandare,  '  er  houres 

be  so 

twyes  twelve, 

That    kinde    wolde    doon    hir   to 

He    shal    thee    ese,    unwist    of    it 

biginne 

him-selve.                             1400 

To  han  a  maner  routhe  up-on  my 

wo,                                        1375 

201.    Now  lat  me  allone,  and  werken  as 

Seyth  Daunger,  "  Nay,  thou  shalt 

I  may,' 

me  never  winne; 

Quod  he;    and  to  Deiphebus  wente 

So  reuleth  hir  hir  hertes  goost  with- 

he  tho 

inne, 

Which    hadde    his  lord   and   grete 

That,  though   she   bende,  yet   she 

freend  ben  ay  ; 

stant  on  rote; 

Save  Troilus,  no  man  he  lovede  so. 

What    in    effect    is  this    un-to    my 

To  telle  in  short,  with-outen  wordes 

bote?" 

mo,                                        1405 

Quod  Pandarus,  '  I  pray  yow  that 

198.    Thenk  here-ayeins,  whan  that  the 

ye  be 

sturdy  00k,                           1380 

Freend     to    a    cause    which    that 

On  which  men  hakketh  ofte,  for  the 

toucheth   me.' 

nones, 

Receyved   hath    the    happy  falling 

202.    '  Yis,   pardee,'     quod     Deiphebus, 

strook. 

'  wel  thow  wost, 

The  grete  sweigh  doth  it  come  al 

In  al    that   ever   I   may,  and   god 

at  ones 

to-fore, 

As   doon    these    rokkes    or    these 

Al    nere    it   but    for   man    I    love 

niilne-stones. 

most,                                     14 10 

For  swifter  cours  cometh  thing  that 

My  brother  Troilus;   but  sey  wher- 

is  of  wighte,                          1385 

fore 

I 


2S8 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[1412-1462. 


It  is;   for  sith  that  day  that  I  was 

bore, 
I    nas,    ne    never-mo    to    been    I 

thinke, 
Ayeins  a   thing  that  mighte  thee 

for-thinke.' 

203.  Pandare  gan  him  thonke,  and   to 

him  seyde,  141 5 

'  Lo,  sire,  I  have  a  lady  in  this  toun, 
That    is    my    nece,    and    called    is 

Criseyde, 
Which  som  men  wolden  doon  op- 

pressioun. 
And   wrongfully   have   hir   posses- 

sioun: 
Wherfor  I    of  your   lordship   yow 

biseche  1420 

To  been  our  freend,  with-oute  more 

speche.' 

204.  Deiphebus   him   answerde,  *  O,    is 

not  this, 
That  thovv  spekesl  of  to  me   thus 

straungely, 
Criseyda,  my  freend?'    He    seyde, 

'  Yis.' 
'  Than    nedeth,'    quod    Deiphebus 

hardely,  1425 

Na-more  to  speke,  for  trusteth  wel, 

that  I 
Wol  be  hir  champioun  with  spore 

and  yerde; 
I  roughte  nought    though  alle  hir 

foos  it  herd. 

205.  But    tel  me,  thou    that    woost    al 

this  matere, 
How   I  might  best  avaylen?    now 

lat  see.'  1430 

Quod  Pandarus,  '  if  ye,  my  lord  so 

dere, 
Wolden  as  now  don  this  honour  to 

me. 
To   prayen    hir  to-morwe,  lo,  that 

she 
Come    un-to   yow    hir  pleyntes    to 

devyse, 
Hir     adversaries     wolde     of     hit 

agryse.  1435 

206.  And    if    J    more    dorste   preye   as 

now. 


And  chargen  yow  to  have  so  greet 

travayle. 
To   han    som    of  your    bretheren 

here  with  yow, 
That    mighten   to    hir   cause    bet 

avayle. 
Than,  woot  I  wel,  she  mighte  never 

fayle  1440 

For  to   be   holpen,  what   at   your 

instaunce. 
What  with  hir  othere  freendes  gov- 

ernaunce.' 

207.  Deiphebus,  which  that  comen  was, 

of  kinde, 
To    al    honour    and    bountee    to 

consente, 
Answerde,  'it  shal  be  doon;    and 

I  can  finde  1445 

Yet   gretter   help   to    this   in  myn 

entente. 
What    wolt   thow    seyn,   if   I    for 

Eleyne  sente 
To  speke  of  this?  I  trowe  it  be  the 

beste; 
For  she  may  leden  Paris  as  hir  leste. 

208.  Of  Ector,  which  that  is  my  lord, 

my  brother,  145° 

It   nedeth    naught  to    preye    him 

freend  to  be; 
For  I  have  herd  him,  o  tyme  and 

eek  other, 
Speke  of  Criseyde  swich   honour, 

that  he 
May   seyn    no   bet,  swich   hap   to 

him  hath  she. 
It  nedeth  nought  his  helpes  for  to 

crave  ;  1455 

He  shal  be  swich,  right  as  we  wole 

have. 

209.  Spek  thou  thy-self  also  to  Troilus 
On  my  bihalve,  and  pray  him  with 

us  dyne.' 
'  Sirs,  al   this  shal  be   doon,'  quod 

Pandarus ; 
And  took  his  leve,  and  never  gan 

to  fyne,  1460 

But  to  his  neces  hous,  as  streght  as 

lyne. 
He  com;  and  fond  hir  fro  the  mete 

aryse  ; 


1463-1513-] 


TkOILUS   AND   CRISEVDE.     BOOK    II. 


259 


And    sctte    him    dnun,    and    spak 
right  in  tliis  wysc. 

210.  He   seyde,  'O   veray  god,  so  have 

1  ronne ! 
Lo,  nece  myn,  see  ye  nought  hcnv 

I  swete?  1465 

I  noot  whether  ye  the  more  thank 

me  conne. 
Be   ye   nought  war  how  that  fals 

PoHphcte 
Is  now  abuute  eft-sones  for  to  plete, 
And    bringe  on    yow     advocacyes 

newe? ' 
'I?  no,'    quod    she,    and  chaunged 

al  hit  hewe.  1470 

211.  'What   is   he  more   al)oute,   me    to 

drecche 
And  doon  me  wrong?  what  shal  I 

do,  alias? 
Yet  of  him-self  no-thing  ne  wolde 

I  recche, 
Nere  it  for  Antenor  and  Eneas, 
That  been  his  freendes    in   swich 

maner  cas;  1475 

But,  for  the  love  of  god,  myn  uncle 

dere. 
No  fors  of  that,  lat   him   have  al 

y-fere; 

212.  With-outen  that,  I  have  ynough  for 

us.' 
'  Nay,'  quod  Pandare,  '  it  shal  no- 
thing be  so. 
For    I    have    been    right    now    at 

Deiphebus,  1480 

And  Ector,  and  myne  othere  lordes 

mo. 
And  shortly  maked  eche  of  hem 

his  fo; 
That,  by  my  thrift,  he  shal  it  never 

winne 
For  ought  he  can,  whan  that  so  he 

biginne.' 

213.  And  as  they  castcn  what  was  best 

to  done,  14S5 

Deiphebus,  of  his  owene  curtasye, 
Com  hir  to  preye,    in  his   propre 

persone. 
To     holde     him     on     the    morwe 

companye 


At    diner,    which    she    nolde    not 

denye. 
But    goodly    gan    to    his    preyere 

obeye.  '49^ 

He  thonked  hir,  and  wente  up-on 

his  weye. 

214.  Whanne   this  was   doon,  this  Pan- 

dare  up  a-noon. 
To  telle  in  short,  and  forth  gan  for 

to  wende 
To  Troilus,  as  stille  as  any  stoon. 
And    al   this   thing   he    tolde    him, 

word  and  ende;  1495 

And  how  that   he  Deiphebus  gan 

to  blende; 
And  seyde  him,  '  now  is  tyme,  if 

that  thou  conne. 
To  bere  thee  wel  to-morwe,  and  al 

is  wonne. 

215.  Now  spek,  now  prey,  now  pitously 

compleyne; 
Lat  not  for  nyce  shame,  or  drede, 

or  slouthe;  1500 

Som-tyme    a    man    mot    telle    his 

owene  peyne; 
Bileve  it,  and  she  shal  han  on  thee 

routhe; 
Thou  shalt  be  saved  by  thy  feyth,  ^ 

in   trouthe. 
But  wel  wot  I,  thou  art  now  in  a 

drede ; 
And    what    it    is,    I    leye,    I    can 

arede.  1505 

216.  Thow  thinkest  now,  "how  sholde 

I  doon  al  this? 
For    by    my    cheres    mosten    folk 

aspye. 
That  for   hir    love    is    that    I   fare 

a- mis; 
Yet  hadde  I  lever  unwist  for  sorwe 

dye." 
Now  thenk  not  so,  for  thou  dost 

greet    folye.  1510 

For   right   now    have  I  founden  o 

man  ere 
Of  sleighte,  for  to  coveren  al  thy 

chere. 

217.  Thow   shalt   gon   over   night,  and 

that  as  blyve, 


26o 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.    BOOK  II. 


[1514-1566. 


Un-to  Deiphebus  hous,  as  thee  to  • 

221. 

What  nedeth  yow  to  tellen  al  the 

pleye, 

chere 

Thy    maladye    a-wey    the    bet    to 

That  Deiphebus  un-to  his  brother 

dryve,                                     15 15 

made, 

For-why  thou  semest  syk,  soth  for 

Or    his    accesse,    or    his    syklych 

to  seye. 

manere. 

Sone  after  that,  doun  in  thy  bed 

How  men   gan   him  with   clothes 

thee  leye. 

for  to  lade. 

And  sey,  thow  mayst  no  lenger  up 

Whan  he  was  leyd,  and  how  men 

endure. 

wolde  him  glade?                1545 

And  lye  right  there,  and  byde  thyn 

But  al  for  nought,  he  held  forth  ay 

aventure. 

the  wyse 
That  ye  han  herd  Pandare  er  this 

218.    Sey  that  thy  fever  is  wont  thee  for 

devyse. 

to  take                                  1520 

The    same    tyme,    and    lasten    til 

222. 

But    certeyn    is,    er    Troilus    him 

a-morwe; 

leyde. 

And   lat   see   now   how   wel    thou 

Deiphebus  had   him   prayed,  over 

canst  it  make. 

night. 

For,  par-dee,  syk  is  he  that  is  in 

To  been  a  freend  and  helping  to 

sorwe. 

Criseyde.                              1550 

Go  now,  farewel !  and,  Venus  here 

God   woot,   that    he   it    grauntede 

to  borwe. 

anon-right. 

I  hope,  and  thou  this  purpos  holde 

^ 

To  been  hir  fuUe  freend  with  al  his 

ferme,           ■                          1525 

> 

might. 

Thy  grace  she  shal  fully  ther  con- 

<7^ 

^  But  swich  a  nede  was  to  preye  him 

ferme.' 

thenne,             ^. 
As  for  to  bidde  a  v/dbu  man  for 

219.    Quod  Troilus,  'y-wis,  thou  nedelees 

to  renne. 

Counseylest  me,  that  sykliche  I  me 

feyne ! 

223. 

The  morwen  com,  and  neighen  gan 

For  I  am  syk  in  erhest,  doutelees. 

the  tyme                               1555 

So  that  wel  neigh  I  sterve  for  the 

v' 

Of  meel-tyd,  that  the  faire  quene 

peyne.'                                  1530 

^^ 

^         Eleyne 

Quod    Pandarus,    '  thou    shalt    the 

Shoop  hir  to  been,  an  houre  after 

bettre  pleyne. 

the  pryme. 

And  hast  the  lasse  nede  to  coun- 

With    Deiphebus,    to    whom    she 

trefete; 

nolde  feyne; 

For  him  men  demen  hoot  that  men 

But  as  his  suster,  hoomly,  sooth  to 

seen  swete. 

seyne. 

^^JU^Ct^-'-^ 

She    com    to    diner    in    hir   playn 

220.    Lo,  holde  thee  at  thy  triste  cloos. 

entente.                                  1560 

and  I                                   > f  i"^ 

But  god  and  Pandare  wiste  al  what 

Shal  wel  the  deer  un-to  thy  bowe 

this  mente. 

dryve.'                                    1535-^ 

lK 

Therwith  he  took  his  leve  al  softely,  I 

224. 

Come  eek  Criseyde,  al  innocent  of 

And  Troilus  to  paleys  wente  blyve.  i 

this. 

So  glad  ne  was  he  never  in  al  his 

Antigone,  hir  sister  Tarbe  also; 

lyve; 

But  flee  we  now  prolixitee  best  is. 

And    to    Pandarus    reed    gan    al 

For  love  of  god,  and  lat  us  faste 

assente, 

go                                          1565 

And  to  Deiphebus  hous  at  night  he 

Right  to  the  effect,  with-oute  tales 

wente.                                   1540 

mo, 

i 


I567-I6I8.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   11. 


261 


Why  al  this  folk  assembled  in  this 

place; 
And  lat  us  of  hir  saluinges  pace. 

225.  Gret  honour  dide  hem  Deiphebus, 

certeyn, 
And  fedde   hem  wel  with  al  that 

mighte  lyke.  '570 

But    ever-more,    '  alias ! '    was    his 

refreyn, 
'  My    goode    brother    Troilus,    the 

syke, 
Lyth  yet'  —  and  therwith-al  he  gan 

to  syke; 
And  after  that,  he  peyned  him  to 

glade 
Hem  as  he  mighte,  and  chere  good 

he  made.  IS75 

226.  Compleyned    eek    Eleyne    of    his 

syknesse 
So  feithfuUy,  that  pitee  was  to  here, 
And    every   wight    gan    waxen    for 

accesse 
A  l^fne  a"noon,  and  seyde,  '  in  this 

manere 
Men  curen  folk;    this  charme  I  wol 

yow  lere.'  1580 

But  there  sat  oon,  al  list  hir  nought 

to  teche. 
That   thoughte,  best  coude   I   yet 

been  his  leche.  Sii^ty^Tj-^ 

227.  After  compleynt,  him  gonnen  they 

to  preyse, 
As  folk  don  yet,  whan  som  wight 

hath  bigonne 
To  preyse  a  man,  and  up  with  prys 

him  reyse  'S^S 

A  thousand  fold  yet  hyer  than  the 

Sonne :  — 
'  He  is,  he  can,  that  fevve  lordes 

conne.' 
And  Pandarus,  of  that  they  wolde 

afferme. 
He  not  for-gat  hir  preysing  to  con- 

ferme. 

228.  Herde   al  this   thing  Criseyde  wel 

y-nough,  1590 

And  every  word  gan  for  to  notifye ; 
For  which    with    sobre    chere    hir 

herte  lough; 


For    who    is    that    ne    wolde    hir 

glorifye, 
To  mowens  wich  a  knight  don  live 

or  dye? 
But  al  passe  I,  lest   ye   to   longe 

dwelle;  1595 

For  for  o  fyn  is  al  that  ever  I  telle. 

229.  The  tyme  com,  fro  diner  for  to  ryse, 
And,  as  hem  oughte,  arisen  every- 

choon, 
And  gonne  a  while  of  this  and  that 

devyse. 
But  Pandarus  brak  al  this  speche 

anoon,  1600 

And  seyde  to  Deiphebus,  '  wole  ye 

goon, 
If  youre  vville  be,  as  I  yow  preyde. 
To   speke    here   of  the   nedes   of 

Criseyde?' 

230.  Eleyne,  which  that  by  the  bond  hir 

held, 
Took  first  the  tale,  and  seyde,  'go 

we    blyve ; '  1 605 

And   goodly  on   Criseyde   she   bi- 

held. 
And    seyde,  '  loves  lat   him  never 

thryve. 
That  dooth  yow  harm,  and  bringe 

him  sone  of  lyve 
And  yeve  me  sorwe,  but    he   shal 

it  rewe. 
If  that   I    may,  and   alle    folk  be 

trewe.'  1610 

231.  'Tel    thou    thy   neces  cas,'   quod 

Deiphebus 
To  Pandarus,  '  for  thou  canst  best 

it  telle.'  — 
'  My  lordes  and  my  ladyes,  it  stant 

thus; 
What    sholde  I   lenger,'  quod    he, 

'  do  yow  dwelle?  ' 
He  rong   hem  out  a  proces  lyk  a 

belle,  1615 

Up-on    hir    fo,  that    highte    Poli- 

phete. 
So  heynous,  that   men  mighte   on 

it   spete. 

232.  Answerde   of    this    ech   worse    of 

hem  than  other, 


262 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


[1619-1670. 


And  Poliphete  they  gonnen  thus  to 

236. 

But  wel  ye  woot,  the  chaumbre  is 

•warien,  ^^pA^ 
'  An-honged  be  swich  oon,  were  he 

but  lyte. 

And  fewe  folk  may  lightly  make  it 

my  brother  ;                         1620 

warm; 

And  so  he  shal,  for  it  ne  may  not 

Now  loketh  ye,  (for  I  wol  have  no 

varien.' 

wyte. 

What  sholde  I  lenger  in  this  tale 

To   bringe  in   prees    that    mighte 

tarien? 

doon  him  harm 

Pleynly,    alle    at    ones,    they    hir 

Or    him    disesen,    for    my    bettre 

highten, 

arm,)                                    1650 

To  been  hir  helpe  in  al  that  ever 

Wher   it   be  bet   she  byde  til  eft- 

they  mighten. 

sones; 
Now  loketh  ye,  that  knowen  what 

233.    Spak    than     Eleyne,    and     seyde, 

to  doon  is. 

'Pandarus,                            1625 

Woot  ought  my  lord,  my  brother, 

237- 

I   sey  for   me,    best   is,    as   I    can 

this  matere, 

knowe, 

I  mene,  Ector?  or  woot  it  Troilus?  ' 

That  no  wight  in  ne  wente  but  ye 

He  seyde,  '  ye,  but  wole  ye  now  me 

tweye. 

here? 

But    it   were   I,    for    I   can,   in   a 

Me    thinketh    this,   sith  Troilus  is 

throwe,                                 1655 

here. 

Reherce   hir   cas,  unlyk   that   she 

It   were    good,    if    that    ye    wolde 

can  seye; 

assente,                                1630 

And  after  this,  she  may  him  ones 

She   tolde  hir-self  him  al  this,  er 

preye 

she  wente. 

To   ben   good   lord,  in  short,  and 
take  hir  leve; 

234.    For   he  wole    have   the    more   hir 

This   may  not   muchel   of  his  ese 

grief  at  herte. 

him  reve. 

By  cause,  lo,  that  she  a  lady  is; 

And,  by  your  leve,  I  wol  but  right 

238. 

And  eek,  for  she  is  straunge,  he 

in  sterte. 

wol  forbere                          1660 

And  do  yow  wite,  and  that  anoon. 

His  ese,  which  that  him  thar  nought 

y-wis,                                    1635 

for  yow; 

If  that   he    slepe,   or  wole   ought 

Eek  other  thing,  toucheth  not   to 

here  of  this.' 

here. 

And  in  he  lepte,  and  seyde  him  in 

He  wol  me  telle,  I  woot  it  wel  right 

his  ere. 

now, 

'God    have    thy   soule,   y-brought 

That  secret  is,  and  for  the  tounes 

have  I  thy  here ! ' 

prow.' 
And  they,  that  no-thing  knewe  of 

235.    To  smylen  of  this  gan  tho  Troilus, 

this  entente,                        1665 

And    Pandarus,   with-oute    reken- 

With-oute  more,  to  Troilus  in  they 

inge,                                     1640 

wente. 

Out   wente  anoon   to   Eleyne  and 

Deiphebus, 

239. 

Eleyne    in    al     hir     goodly    softe 

And  seyde  hem,  '  so  there   be  no 

wyse. 

taryinge, 

Gan  him  saluwe,   and  womanly  to 

Ne  more  pres,  he  wol  wel  that  ye 

pleye, 

bringe 

And  seyde, '  ywis,  ye  moste  alweyes 

Criseyda,  my  lady,  that  is  here; 

aryse ! 

And  as  he  may  enduren,  he  wole 

Now  fayre  brother,  belh  al  hool,  I 

here.                                     1645 

preye!'                                 1670 

1671-1721] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   II. 


263 


And    gan    hir  arm    right    over    liis 

sholilcr  leye, 
And  him  with  al  hir  wit  to  recom- 

forte ; 
As  she  best  coude,  she  gan  him  to 

disporte. 

240.  So  after  this  quod  she,  '  we  yow 

biseke, 

My  dere  brother,  Deiphebus,  and  I, 

For  love  of  god,  and  so  doth  Pan- 
dare  eke,  1676 

To  been  good  lord  and  freend, 
right  hertely, 

Un-to  Criseyde,  which  that  cer- 
teinly 

Receyveth  wrong,  as  woot  wel  here 
Pandare, 

That  can  hir  cas  wel  bet  than  I  de- 
clare.' 1680 

241.  This  Pandarus  gan  newe  his  tunge 

aftyle. 
And  al   hir  cas  reherce,  and   that 

anoon; 
Whan  it  was  seyd,  sone  after,  in  a 

whyle. 
Quod  Troilus,    '  as  sone  as  I  may 

goon, 
I  wol  right  fayn  with  al  my  might 

ben  oon,  1685 

Have  god  my  trouthe,  hir  cause  to 

sustene.' 
'  Good  thrift  have  ye,'  quod  Eleyne 

the  quene. 

242.  Quod  Pandarus,  '  and  it  your  wille 

be. 
That  she  may  take  hir  leve,  er  that 

she  go?' 
'  Or  elles  god  for-bede,'  tho  quod 

he,  1690 

'If  that  she  vouche  sauf  for  to  do 

so.' 
And  with  that  word  quod  Troilus, 

'  ye   two, 
Deiphebus,  and  my  suster  leef  and 

dere, 
To   yow   have    I    to   speke    of    o 

matere, 

243.  To  been  avysed  by  your  reed  the 

bettre': —  1695 


And    fond,    as    hap   was,    at    his 

beddes    heed. 
The  copic  of  a  tretis  and  a  lettre. 
That  Ector  hadde  him  sent  to  axen 

reed, 
If  swich  a  man  was  worthy  to  ben 

deed, 
Woot    I    nought   who  ;    but    in   a 

grisly  wyse  1700 

He  preyede  hem  anoon  on  it  avyse. 

244.  Deiphebus  gan   this  lettre  to  un- 

folde 
In   ernest   greet;    so  dide  Eleyne 

the  quene  ; 
And   rominge  outward,  fast  it  gan 

biholde. 
Downward  a   steyre,  in-to  an  her- 

ber  grene.  '705 

This   ilke   thing   they   redden  hem 

bi-twene  ; 
And  largely,  the  mountaunce  of  an 

houre. 
They  gonne  on  it  to  reden  and  to 

poure. 

245.  Now  lat  hem  rede,  and  turne  we 

anoon 
To    Pandarus,   that   gan    ful    faste 

prvi  1 7 1 o 

That  al  was  wel,  and  out  he  gan  to 

goon 
In-to  the  greti;  chambre,  and  that 

in  hye. 
And  seyde,  '  god  save  al  this  com- 

panye ! 
Com,   nece  myn;    my  lady  quene 

Eleyne 
Abydeth  yow,  and  eek  my  lordcs 

tweyne.  '  7 '  5 

246.  Rys,    take    with    yow   your    nece 

Antigone, 
Or    whom    yow    list,    or    no    fors, 

hardily; 
The   lasse    prees,    the    bet;    com 

forth  with  me. 
And    loke    that    ye    thonke   hum- 

blely 
Hem  alle  three,  and,  whan  ye  may 

goodly  1720 

Your   tyme  y-see,  taketh   of  hem 

your   Icve, 


264 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III.       [1722-1757.    i-ii. 


Lest   we  to   longe  his  restes  him 
bireve.' 

247.  Al   innocent   of  Pandarus  entente, 
Quod  tho  Criseyde,  '  go  we,  uncle 

dere '; 
And  arm  in  arm  inward  with  him 

she  wente,  1725 

Avysed    wel    hir    wordes    and    hir 

chere  ;  250. 

And  Pandarus,  in  ernestful  manere, 
Seyde,  '  alle  folk,  for  goddes  love, 

I  preye, 
Stinteth  right  here,  and  softely  yow 

pleye. 

248.  Aviseth   yow  what  folk   ben  here 

with-inne,  1730 

And  in  what  plyt  con  is,  god  him 

amende  ! 
And   inward    thus   ful   softely    bi- 

ginne; 
Nece,  I   coniure  and  heighly  yow 

defende. 
On   his  half,   which  that   sowle  us       25 1 

alle   sende. 
And    in    the   vertue    of    corounes 

tweyne,  1735 

Slee  nought  this  man,  that  hath  for 

yow  this  peyne ! 

249.  Fy  on  the  devel !  thenk  which  oon 

he  is, 
And  in  what  plyt  he  lyth;   com  of 

anoon; 
Thenk  al  swich  taried  tyd,  but  lost 

it  nis ! 

Explicit  Secundus 


That  wol  ye  bothe  seyn,  whan  ye 

ben  oon.  1740 

Secoundelich,    ther   yet    devyneth 

noon 
Up-on  yow  two;   com  of  now,  if  ye 

conne; 
Whyl  folk  is  blent,  lo,  al  the  tyme 

is  wonne ! 

In  titering,  and  pursuite,  and  de- 

layes, 
The  folk  devyne  at  wagginge  of  a 

stree;  1745 

And   though  ye   wolde   han   after 

merye  dayes, 
Than  dar  ye  nought,  and  why?  for 

she,  and  she 
Spak  swich  a  word;   thus  loked  he, 

and  he; 
Lest  tyme  I  loste,  I  dar  not  with 

yow  dele; 
Com  of  therfore,  and  bringeth  him 

to  hele.'  1750 

But  now  to  yow,  ye  lovers  that  ben 
here. 

Was  Troilus  nought  in  a  cankedort, 

That   lay,  and   mighte  whispringe 
of  hem  here. 

And  thoughte,  *0  lord,  right  now 
renneth  my  sort 

Fully  to  dye,  or  han  anoon  com- 
fort'; 1755 

And  was  the  firste  tyme  he  shulde 
hir  preye 

Of  love;   O  mighty  god,  what  shal 
he  seye? 
Liber. 


BOOK   III. 


Incipit  Prohemium  Tercii  Libri. 

O  BLiSFUL  light,  of  whiche  the  hemes 

clere 
Adorneth  al  the  thridde  hevene  faire  ! 
O  sonnes  leef,  O  loves  doughter  dere, 
Plesaunce  of  love,  O  goodly  debonaire 
In  gentil  hertes  ay  redy  to  repaire  !  5 
O  verray  cause  of  hele  and  of  glad- 

nesse. 


Y-hei'ied  be  thy  might  and  thy  good- 
ne.sse ! 

In  hevene  and    helle,  in   erthe   and 

sake  yee 
Is  felt  thy  iTiight,  if  that  I  wel  des- 

cerne; 
As  man,  brid,  best,  fish,  herbe    and 

grene  trees  lO 

Thee  fele  in  tynies  with  vapour  eterne. 


12-67.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


265 


God  loveth,  and   to  love  wol  nc/ught 

werne  ; 
And  in  this  world  no  lyves  creature, 
With-outen    love,  is    worth,    or    may 

endure. 

3.  Ye    loves     first    to     thilke    effectes 

glade,  15 

Thorugh    which    that    thinges    liven 

alie  and  be, 
Comeveden,  and  amorous  him  made 
On  mortal  thing,  and  as  yow  list,  ay 

ye 
Yeve  him  in  love  ese  or  adversitee; 
And  in  a  thousand  formes  doun  him 

sente  20 

For    love    in    erthe,  and  whom    yow 

liste,  he  hente. 

4.  Ye  fierse  Mars  apeysen  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 

resigne;  25 

Ye  do  hem   corteys   be,  fresshe  and 

benigne. 
And  hye  or  lowe,  after  a  wight  en- 

tendeth; 
The  loyes  that  he  hath,  your  might 

him  sendeth. 

5.  Ye  holden  regne  and  hous  in  unitee; 
Ye  soothfast  cause  of  frendship  been 

also ;  30 

Ye  knowe  al  thilke  covered  qualitee 
Of  thinges  which  that  folk  on  won- 

dren  so, 
Whan  they  can  not  construe  how  it 

may  io. 
She   loveth   him,  or   why  he    loveth 

here; 
As  why  this    fish,  and    nought    that, 

Cometh  to  were.  35 

6.  Ye  folk  a  lawe  han  set  in  universe, 
And  this  knowe  I  by  hem  that  loveres 

be. 
That  who-so  stryveth  with  yuw  hath 

the  werse : 
Now,  lady  bright,  for  thy  benignitee. 
At   reverence    of    hem    that    serven 

thee,  40 


Whos  clerk   I  am,  so    techeth    me 

devyse 
Som  loye  of  that  is  feltinthyservyse. 

7.  Ye  in  my  naked  herte  sentement 
Inhelde,  and    do  me  shewe  of   thy 

swetnesse.  — 
C'aliope,  thy  vois  be  now  present,  45 
For    now    is    nede;    sestow  not  my 

destresse. 
How  I  mot  telle  anon-right  the  glad- 

nesse 
Of  Troilus,  to  Venus  heryinge  ? 
To  which   gladnes,  who  nede  hath, 

god  him  bringe  ! 
Explicit  prohetiiiiim  Tercii  Libri. 

Incii'IT  Libek  Tercius. 

8.  Lay  al  this  mene  whyle  Troilus,     50 
Recordinge  his  lessoun  in  this  man- 

ere, 
'  Ma  fey  ! '  thought  he,  '  thus  wole  I 

seye  and  thus; 
Thus  wole  I   pleyne  un-to  my  lady 

dere ; 
That  word  is  good,  and  this  shal  be 

my  chere; 
This  nil  I  not  foryeten  in  no  wyse.'  55 
God  leve  him    werken   as    he   gan 

devyse. 

9.  And  lord,  so  that  his  herte  gan  to 

quappe, 
Heringe  hir  come,  and  shorte  for  to 

syke ! 
And  Pandarus,  that  ladde  hir  by  the 

lappe. 
Com  ner,  and  gan  in  at  the  curtin 

pyke,  60 

And  seyde, '  god  do  bote  on  alle  syke  ! 
See,    who    is    here    yow    comen    to 

visyte; 
Lo,  here  is  she  that  is  your  deeth 

to  wyte.' 

10.    Ther-with    it   semed    as    he   wepte 

almost; 
'  A  ha,'  quod  Troilus  so  rewfully,  65 
'  Wher   me    be  wo,  ()    mighty  god, 

thou  wost ! 
Who    is   al    there?    I    see    nought 

trewely.' 


266 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[68-117. 


'  Sire,'  quod  Criseyde,  •  it  is  Pandare 

Which  vois  eek  quook,  and  ther-to 

and  I.' 

his  manere 

'Ye,    swete    herte?     alias,    I    may 

Goodly  abayst,  and  now  his  hewes 

nought  ryse 

rede, 

To  knele,  and   do   yow   honour   in 

Now  pale,  un-to  Criseyde,  his  lady 

som  wyse.'                                  70 

dere,                                             95 

With  look  doun    cast    and    humble 

II.    And  dressede  him  upward,  and  she 

yolden  chere, 

right  tho 

Lo,    the  alderfirste  word   that    him 

Gan  bothe  here  hondes  softe  upon 

asterte 

him  leye, 

Was,  twyes,  '  mercy,  mercy,    swete 

'  0,  for  the  love  of  god,  do  ye  not 

herte ! ' 

so 
To  me,'  quod  she,  '  ey  !  what  is  this 

15.    And   stinte   a  whyl,  and   whan   he 

to  seye? 

mighte  out-bringe. 

Sire,  come  am  I  to  yow  for  causes 

The  nexte  word  was,  'god  wot,  for 

tweye;                                          75 

I  have,                                        100 

First,  yow  to   thonke,  and  of  your 

As  feythfully  as  I   have   had   kon- 

lordshipe  eke 

ninge. 

Continuance  I  wolde  yow  biseke.' 

Ben    youres,    also    god    my    sowle 

12.    This   Troilus,   that   herde   his   lady 

S3.VC  J 

And  shal,  til  that  I,  woful  wight,  be 

preye 

grave. 

Of   lordship  him,  wex  neither  quik 

And  though  I  dar  ne  can  un-to  yow 

ne  deed. 

pleyne, 

Ne  mighte  a  word  for  shame  to  it 

Y-wis,    I    suffre    nought    the    lasse 

seye,                                           80 

peyne.                                      105 

Al-though    men   sholde   smyten   of 

his  heed. 

16.    Thus   muche   as   now,  O  womman- 

But    lord,   so    he   wex    sodeinliche 

liche  wyf, 

rf  pd, 

I  may  out-bringe,  and   if  this  yow 

And  sire,  his  lesson,  that  he  wende 

displese, 

conne, 

That  shal  I  wreke  upon  myn  owne 

To   preyen   hir,    is    thurgh    his   wit 

lyf 

y-ronne. 

Right  sone,  I  trowe,  and  doon  your 

herte  an  ese, 

13.    Cryseyde   al     this    aspyede   wel   y- 

If  with  my  deeth  your  herte  I  may 

nough,                                        85 

apese.                                       1 10 

For  she  was  wys,  and  lovede   him 

But  sin  that  ye  han  herd  me  som- 

never-the-la^e^^^           2^C^ 
Al  nere  he    mampert,    or   made   it 

what  seye. 

Now  recche  I  never  how  sone  that  I 

tough. 

deye.' 

Or   was   to    bold,  to  singe  afool  a 
masse.  -  -<.t^'-r<v  -^WTi^ZI^.e-'L 

17.    Ther-with   his   manly  sorwe   to   bi- 

But  whan  his  shame  gan  somwhat 

holde, 

to  passe. 

It  mighte  han  maadan  herte  of  stoon 

His   resons,    as    I    may   my   rymes 

to  rewe; 

holde,                                           go 

And  Pandare  weep  as  he  to  watre 

I  yow   wol   telle,  as   techen   bokes 

wolde,                                         115 

olde. 

And  poked  ever  his  nece  newe  and 

newe. 

14.    In  chaunged  vols,  right  for  his  verrey 

And   seyde,  'wo   bigon   ben  hertes 

drede, 

trewe ! 

1 18-169.]                 TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III.                           267 

For  love  of  god  make  of  this  thing 

And  ever-mo  desire  freshly  newe. 

an  ende, 

To  serven,  and  been  y-lyke  ay  clili- 

Or  slee  us  bothe  at  ones,  er  that  ye 

gent, 

wende.' 

And,  with  good  herte,  al  holly  your 

talent                                             145 

18.    'I?  what?'  quod  she,  'by  god  and 

Receyven   wel,   how   sore    that   me 

by  my  trouthe,                        120 

smerte, 

I  noot  nought  what  ye  wihie  that  I 

Lo,  this  mene  I,  myn  owne    swete 

seye.' 

herte.' 

'I?  what?'  quod  he,  'that  ye  han 

on  him  routhe, 

22.    Quod  Pandarus,  '  lo,  here  an   hard 

For    goddes    love,    and    doth    him 

request. 

nought  to  deye.' 

And  resonable,  a  lady  for  to  werne  ! 

'Now   thanne    thus,'   quod    she,    'I 

Now,    nece    myn,    by    natal    loves 

wolde  him  preye 

fest,                                           1 50 

To   telle   me    the    fyn    of    his    en- 

Were I  a  god,  ye  sholde  sterve  as 

tente;                                        125 

yerne. 

Yet  wiste  I  never  wel  what  that  he 

That  heren  wel,  this  man  wol   no- 

mente.' 

thing  yerne 

But    your    honour,    and    seen    him 

19.    '  What  that  I  raene,  0  swete  herte 

almost  sterve. 

dere?' 

And  been  so  looth   to  suffren  him 

Quod    Troilus,    '  O    goodly   fresshe 

yow  serve.' 

free ! 

That,  with  the  stremes  of  your  eyen 

23.    W^ith  that  she  gan  hir  eyen  on  him 

clere. 

caste                                         155 

Ye  woUle  som-tyme  freendly  on  me 

Ful  esily,  and  ful  debonairly. 

see,                                           130 

Avysing  hir,  and  hyed  not  to  faste 

And  thanne  agreen  that  I  may  ben 

With  never  a  word,  but  seyde  him 

he. 

softely. 

With-oute  braunche  of  vyce  in  any 

'  Myn     honour     sauf,     I    wol     wel 

wyse. 

trewely, 

In  trouthe  alwey  to  doon  yow  my 

And  in  swich  forme  as  he  can  now 

servyse 

devyse,                                        i6o 

Receyven  him  fully  to  my  servyse, 

20.    As    to    my    lady    right    and    chief 

resort, 

24.    Biseching    him,    for    goddes    love, 

With    al   my   wit   and   al   my   dili- 

that he 

gence,                                       135 

Wolde,    in   honour   of  trouthe  and 

And  I  to  han,  right  as  yow  list,  com- 

gentilesse. 

fort. 

As   I  wel  mene,  eek  mene  wel   to 

Under    your    yerde,    egal    to    myn 

me. 

offence. 

And    myn    honour,    with    wit    and 

As  deeth,  if  that  I  breke  your  de- 

besinesse,                                165 

fence  ; 

Ay  kepe;    and  if   I    may  don    him 

And  that  ye  deigne  me  so  muche 

gladnesse. 

honoure, 

From  hennes-forth,  y-wis,  I  nil  not 

Me   to   comaunden   ought    in    any 

feyne  : 

houre.                                         140 

Now  beeth  al  hool,  no  lenger  ye  ne 

pleyne. 

21.    And  I  to  ben  your  verray  humble 

trewe, 

25.    But  nathelees,  this  warne    I    yow.' 

Secret,  and  in  my  paynes  pacient, 

quod  she, 

268 

TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III.                 [170-222. 

'  A   kinges   sone   al-though   ye   be, 

For    I    ful    wel    shal    shape    your 

y-wis,                                        170 

cbminge; 

Ye  shul  na-more  have  soverainetee 

Of  me  in  love,  than    right  in    that 

29. 

And   eseth    ther   your    hcites   right 

cas  is; 

y-nough ; 

Ne  I    nil   forbere,  if  that   ye  doon 

And  lat  see  which  of  yow  shal  bere 

a-mis, 

the  belle 

To  wrathen  yow;   and  whyl  that  ye 

To  speke  of  love  a-right ! '  ther-with 

me  serve, 

he  lough. 

Cherycen   yow   right    after   ye    de- 

' For  ther  have  ye  a  layser  for  to 

serve.                                        175 

telle.'                                        200 
Quod  Troilus,  'how  longe   shal    I 

26. 

And  shortly,  dere  herte  and  al  my 

dwelle 

knight. 

Er  this  be  doon? '    Quod  he, '  whan 

Beth  glad,  and  draweth  yow  to  lusti- 

thou  mayst  ryse, 

nesse, 

This  thing  shal  be  right   as  I  yow 

And    I    shal   trewely,   with   al    my 

devyse.' 

might. 

Your  bittre  tornen  al  in-toswetnesse; 

30- 

With   that    Eleyne   and    also    Dei- 

If  I  be  she  that  may  yow  do  glad- 

phebus 

nesse,                                        1 80 

Tho   comen   upward,   right   at    the 

For  every   wo   ye   shal   recovere    a 

steyres  ende;                           205 

blisse ' ; 

And  lord,  so  than  gan  grone  Troilus, 

And  him  in  armes    took,  and   gan 

His   brother   and   his   suster  for  to 

him  kisse. 

blende. 
Quod  Pandarus,  *  it  tyme  is  that  we 

27. 

Fil  Pandarus  on  knees,  and  up  his 

wende; 

yen 

Tak,  nece   myn,  your   leve  at   alle 

To    hevene    threw,    and    held    his 

three. 

hondes  hye. 

And   lat   hem    speke,  and    cometh 

'  Immortal    god  !  '    quod    he,    '  that 

forth    with   me.'                     210 

mayst    nought    dyen,              185 

Cupide  I   mene,  of  this  mayst  glo- 

31- 

She  took  hir  leve  at  hem  ful  thriftily. 

rifye ; 

As    she   wel   coude,   and    they   hir 

And     Venus,     thou     mayst     make 

reverence 

melodye; 

Un-to  the  fulle  diden  hardely. 

With-outen  bond,  me  semeth  that  in 

And  speken  wonder  wel,  in  hir  ab- 

towne, 

sence. 

For  this  merveyle,  I  here  ech  belle 

Of  hir,   in   preysing   of    hir   excel- 

sowne. 

lence,                                        215 
Hir  governaunce,  hir  wit;    and  hir 

28. 

But    ho !    no  more  as   now  of  this 

manere 

raatere,                                       190 

Commendeden,  it  loye  was  to  here. 

For-why    this   folk    wol    comen    up 

anoon, 

32. 

Now  lat  hir  wende  un-to  hir  owne 

That  han  the  lettre  red;   lo,  I  hem 

place, 

here. 

And  torne  we  to  Troilus  a-yein, 

But   I    coniure  thee,  Criseyde,  and 

That   gan  ful   lightly  of  the   lettre 

oon. 

passe,                                        220 

And  two,  thou  Troilus,  whan  thow 

That  Deiphebus  hadde  in  the  gardin 

mayst  goon, 

seyn. 

That  at  myn  hous  ye   been   at   my 

And  of  Eleyne  and  him  he  wolde 

warninge,                                 195 

fayn 

223-275-] 


TROILUS   AND  CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


269 


Delivered  been,  and  seyde,  that  him 

Which   that  I  never  doon  shal    eft 

leste 

for  other. 

To  slope,  and  after  tales  have  reste. 

Al-though  he  were  a  thousand  fold 
my  brother. 

33- 

Eleyne  him  kiste,  and  took  hir  leva 

t)lyve,                                        225 

37- 

That    is    to    seye,    for    thee    am    I 

Deiphebus    eek,   and    hoom   wente 

bicomen. 

every  wight; 

Bitwixen  game  and  ernest,  swich  a 

And  Pandarus  as  faste  as   he    may 

mene 

dryve, 

As  maken  wommen   un-to  men    to 

To  Troilus  tho  com,  as  lyne  right; 

comen;                                       255 

And  on  a  paillet,  al  that  glade  night, 

Al  sey  I  nought,  thou  wost  wel  what 

By     Troilus       he    lay,    with     mery 

I  mene. 

chere,                                       230 

For  thee  have  I  my  nece,  of  vyces 

To  tale;    and  wel  was    hem    they 

clene. 

were  y-fere. 

So  fully  maad  thy  gentilesse  triste, 
That  al  shal  been  right  as  thy-selve 

34- 

Whan  every  wight  was  voided  but 
they  two, 

liste. 

And     alle    the     dores    were     faste 

38. 

But    god,    that   al    wot,    take    I    to 

y-shette. 

witnesse,                                    260 

To  telle  in  short,  with-oute  wordes 

That    never    I    this    for    coveityse 

mo. 

wroughte. 

This     Pandarus,     with-outen     any 

But  only  for  to   abregge   that  dis- 

lette,                                         235 

tresse. 

Up   roos,  and  on   his  beddes  syde 

For  which  wel  nygh  thou  deydest. 

him  sette. 

as  me  thoughte. 

And  gan  to  speken  in  a  sobre  vvyse 

But  gode  brother,  do  now  as  thee 

To  Troilus,  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 

oughte. 
For  goddes  love,  and  keep  hir  out 

35- 

'  Myn  alderlevest  lord,  and  brother 

of  blame,                                 265 

dere. 

Sin  thou  art  wys,  and  save  alwey  hir 

God  woot,  and  thou,  that  it  sat  me 

name. 

so  sore,                                     240 

When  I  thee   saw   so   languisshing 

39- 

For  wel  thou  wost.  the  name  as  yet 

to-yere. 

of  here 

For  love,  of  which  thy  wo  wex  alwey 

Among    the   peple,   as   who    seyth. 

more  ; 

:*C~<^  halwed  is; 

That  I,  with  al  my  might  and  al  my 

For  that  man  is  unbore,  I  dar  wel 

lore. 

swere. 

Have  ever  sithen  doon  my  bisinesse 

That    ever    wiste     that    she     dide 

To  bringe  thee  to  loye  out  of  dis- 

amis.                                         270 

tresse ;                                      245 

But  wo  is  me,  that  I,  that  cause  al 

this, 
May  thenken  that  she  is  my  nece 

36. 

And  have  it  brought  to  swich  plyt 

as  thou  wost. 

dere. 

So  that,  thorugh  me,  thow  stondest 

And    I    hir   eem,   and    traytor    eek 

now  in  weye 

y-fere ! 

To  fare  wel,  I  seye  it  for  no  host, 

And  wostow  why?  for  shame  it  is  to 

40. 

And  were   it  wist    that    I,   through 

seye, 

myn  engyn, 

For  thee  have  I  bigonne  a  gamen 

Hadde  in  my  nece    y-put   this  fan- 

pleye                                         250 

tasye,                                        275 

270 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  III. 


[276-331- 


To   do   thy  lust,  and  hoolly  to  be 

Seyd,  "  welawey  !  the  day  that  I  was 

thyn, 

born !  " 

Why,  al  the  world  up-on   it  wolde 

And  many  a  maydes  sorwes  for  to 

crye. 

newe;                                         305 

And      seye,     that     I     the      worste 

And,   for   the   more  part,  al   is   un- 

trecherye 

trewe 

Dide    in    this    cas,   that    ever   was 

That    men   of   yelpe,    and   it   were 

bigonne. 

brought  to  preve; 

And    she    for-lost,    and    thou    right 

Of  kinde  non  avauntour  is  to  leve. 

nought  y-wonne.                     280 

45- 

Avauntour  and  a  lyere,  al  is  on; 

41.    Wher-fore,  er  I  wol  ferther  goon  a 

As  thus :   I  pose,  a  womman  graunte 

pas, 

me                                               310 

Yet  eft  I  thee  biseche  and  fully  seye, 

Hir  love,  and  seyth  that  other  wol 

That  privetee  go  with  us  in  this  cas. 

she  non. 

That  is  to  seye,  that  thou  us  never 

And  I  am  sworn  to  holden  it  secree, 

wreye ; 

And  after  I  go  telle  it  two  or  three; 

And   be   nought  wrooth,  though   I 

Y-wis,  I  am  avauntour  at  the  leste, 

thee  ofte  preye                       285 

And    lyere,    for    I    breke    my    bi- 

To   holden  secree  swich  an   heigh 

heste.                                        315 

matere; 

For   skilful   is,  thow  wost  wel,  my 

46. 

Now  loke  thanne,  if  they  be  nought 

preyere. 

to  blame, 
Swich  maner  folk;   what  shall  clepe 

42.    And  thenk  what  wo  ther  hath  bitid 

hem,  what. 

er  this, 

That  hem  avaunte  of  wommen,  and 

For  makinge  of  avauntes,  as  men 

by  name, 

rede; 

That  never  yet  bihighte  hem  this  ne 

And  what  mischaunce  in  this  world 

that. 

yet  ther  is,                                 290 

Ne  knewe  hem  more  than  myn  olde 

Fro  day  to  day,  right  for  that  wikked 

hat?                                          320 

dede; 

No  wonder  is,  so  god  me  sende  hele, 

For  which   these  wyse  clerkes    that 

Though  wommen  drede  with  us  men 

ben  dede 

to  dele. 

Han  ever  yet  proverbed  to  us  yonge. 

That  "  firste  vertu  is  to  kepe  tonge." 

47- 

I   sey  not  this   for   no   mistrust  of 

43.    And,   nere  it  that  I  wilne  as  now 

yow, 
Ne  for  no  wys  man,  but  for  foles 

tabregge                                    295 

nyce, 

Diffusioun  of  speche,  I  coude  almost 

And  for  the  harm  that  in  the  world 

A  thousand  olde  stories  thee  alegge 

is  now,                                     325 

Of  wommen  lost,  thorugh  fals   and 

As  wel  for  foly  ofte  as  for  malyce; 

foles  host; 

For  wel  wot  I,  in  wyse  folk,  that 

Proverbes  canst  thy-self  y-nowe,  and 

vyce 

wost,              ^ 

No   womman   drat,   if   she   be   wel 

Ayeins    that    vyce,    for    to    been    a 

avysed ; 

labbe,                                            300 

For  wyse  ben  by  foles  harm  chas- 

Al  seyde  men  sooth  as  often  as  they 

tysed. 

gabbe. 

48. 

But  now   to   purpos;    leve   brother 

44.    0  tonge,  alias !  so  often  here-biforn 

dere,                                         330 

Hastow   made  many   a   lady   bright 

Have  al  this  thing  that  I  have  seyd 

of  hewe 

in  minde, 

332-384-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


271 


And  keep  thee  clos,  and  be  now  of 

52.    And  gan  his  look  on  Pandarus  up 

good  cliere, 

caste 

Eor  at  thy  day  thou  shalt  me  trewe 

P'ul  sobrely,  and  frendly  for  to  see. 

tiiuie. 

And  seyde,  '  freend,  in  Aprille   the 

I  shal   thy  proces  sette  in  swich  a 

laste,                                           360 

kinde, 

As  wel    thou  wost,  if   it    remembre 

And  god  to-forn,  that  it  shall  thee 

thee, 

suffyse,                                     335 

How  neigh  the  deeth   for  wo  th(<u 

For  it  shal  been  right  as  thou  wolt 

founde  me; 

devyse. 

And  how  thoudidest  al  thybisinesse 

To  knowe  of  me  the  cause  of  my 

49.    For  wel   I  woot,  thou  menest  wel, 

distresse. 

parde; 

Therfore  I  dar  this  fully  undertake. 

53.    Thou  wost   how  longe  I  it   for-l^ar 

Thou    wost     eek    what     thy    lady 

to  seye                                      365 

graunted  thee, 

To   thee,  that   art   the  man    that    I 

And  day  is  set,  the  chartres  up  to 

best  triste; 

make.                                       340 

And  peril  was  it  noon  to   thee  by- 

Have  now   good   night,  I  may  no 

wreye. 

lenger  wake; 

That  wiste  I  wel;   but  tel  me,  if  thee 

And  bid  for  me,  sin  thou  art  now  in 

liste. 

blisse, 

Sith   I   so   looth   was   that   thy-self 

That  god  me  sende  deeth  or  sone 

it  wiste. 

lisse.' 

How   dorste    I   mo    tellen    of   this 

matere,                                       370 

50.    Who  mighte  telle  half  the  loye  or 

That  quake  now,  and  no  wight  may 

feste 

us  here? 

Which  that  the  sowle  of  Troilus  tho 

felte,                                         345 
Heringe    theffect   of   Pandarus    bi- 

54.    But   natheles,  by  that   god   I    thee 

swere. 

heste? 

That,  as  him  list,  may  al  this  world 

His  olde  wo,  that   made  his  herte 

governe. 

swelte, 

And,  if    I    lye,    Achilles    with    his 

Gan   tho   for  loye  wasten    and    to- 

spere 

melte, 

Myn    herte   cleve,   al   were  my  lyf 

And    al   the   richesge   of  his  sykes 

eterne,                                        375 

sore 

As  I  am  mortal,  if  I  late  or  yerne 

At  ones  fledde,  he  felte  of  hem  no 

Wolde  it  biwreye,  or  dorste,  or  sholde 

more.                                        350 

conne. 

For    al    the   good    that    god   made 

51.    But   right   so   as   these   holtes   and 

under   sonne; 

these  hayes, 

That  han  in  winter  dede  been  and 

55.    That    rather    deye     I    wolde,    and 

dreye, 

determyne, 

Revesten  hem  in  grene,  whan  that 

As    thinketh    me,    now    stokked    in 

May  is. 

presoun.                                     380 

Whan    every    lusty    lyketh    best    to 

In  wrecchednesse,  in  filthe,   and   in 

pleye: 

vermyne. 

Right  in  that  selve  wyse,  sooth    to 

Caytif  to  cruel  king  Agamenoun  ; 

seye,                                         355 

And  this,  in  alle  the  temples  of  this 

Wex  sodeynliche  his  herte  ful  of  loye. 

toun. 

That   gladder  was  ther   never   man 

Upon   the   goddes  alle,  I  wol  thee 

in  Troye. 

swere. 

272                             TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  III.               [385-437. 

To-morwe  day,  if  that   thee  lyketh 

Tel  me,  which  thou  wilt  of  everich- 

here.                                       385 

one, 
To  han  for  thyn,  and  lat^  me  thanne 

56. 

And  that  thou  hast  so  muche  y-doon 
for  me, 

allone. 

That   I  ne  may  it  never-more   de- 

60. 

But  sin  that  thou  hast  don  me  this 

serve, 

servyse. 

This  knowe  I  wel,  al  mighte  I  now 

My  lyf  to  save,  and  for  noon  hope 

for  thee 

of  mede,                                 415 

A    thousand    tymes   on   a   morwen 

So,  for  the  love  of  god,  this  grete 

sterve. 

empryse 

I  can  no  more,  but  that  I  wol  thee 

Parforme  it  out;    for  now  is  moste 

serve                                           390 

nede. 

Right  as  thy  sclave,  whider-so  thou 

For  high  and  low,  with-outen   any 

wende, 

drede. 

For  ever-more,  un-to  my  lyves  ende  ! 

I  wol  alwey  thyne  hestes  alle  kepe  ; 
Have    now   good  night,  and  lat  us 

57- 

But  here,  with  al  myn  herte,  I  thee 
biseche. 

bothe   slepe.'                           420 

That  never  in  me  thou  deme  swich 

61. 

Thus  held  him  ech  with  other  wel 

folye 

apayedj 

As   I   shal   seyn;    me  thoughte,  by 

That  al  the  world  ne  mighte  it  bet 

thy  speche,                              395 

amende; 

That  this,  which    thou  me  dost  for 

And,   on    the    morwe,    whan    they 

companye. 

were   arayed, 

I  sholde  wene  it  were  a  bauderye; 

Ech   to   his   owene   nedes   gan  en- 

I  am  nought  wood,  al-if  I  lewed  be; 

tende. 

It   is  nought   so,  that  woot   I   wel, 

But  Troilus,  though  as   the    fyr  he 

pardee. 

brende                                       425 
For  sharp   desyr   of^  hope    and    of 

58. 

But  he   that   goth,  for  gold  or  for 

plesaunce, 

richesse,                                   400 

He  not  for-gat  his  gode  governaunce. 

On   swich    message,  calle  him  what 

thee  list; 

62. 

But  in  him-self  with   manhod    gan 

And   this   that   thou   dost,   calle   it 

restreyne 

gentilesse. 

Ech  rakel  dede  and  ech  unbrydled 

Compassioun,    and    felawship,    and 

chere, 

trist; 

That   alle  tho  that   liven,  sooth    to 

Departe   it   so,   for   wyde-where    is 

seyne,                                       430 

wist 

Ne  sholde  han  wist,  by  word  or  by 

How   that   there    is   dyversitee   re- 

manere. 

quered                                      405 

What  that    he   mente,  as  touching 

Bitwixen   thingus   lyke,    as   I    have 

this  matere. 

lered. 

From  every  wight  as  fer  as  is  the 
cloude 

59. 

And,   that   thou    knowe    I    thenke 
nought  ne  wene 

He  was,  so  wel  dissimulen  he  coude. 

That   this   servyse   a   shame   be    or 

63- 

And  al  the  whyl  which  that  I  yow 

lape. 

devyse,                                     435 

I  have  my  faire  suster  Polixene, 

This  was  his  lyf;    with  al  his  fulle 

Cassandre,    Eleyne,    or   any    of  the 

might, 

frape;                                       410 

By  day  he  was  in  Maries  high  ser- 

Be she  never  so  faire  or  wel  y-shape. 

vyse. 

438-490.] 


TKOILUS   AND    CRISEVDE.     BOOK    III. 


273 


This   is   to    seyn,    in    armes    as    a 

It   semed    hir,    he   wiste   what    she 

knight; 

thdughte                                    465 

And    for   the  more  part,   the   longe 

With-oulen  word,  so  that  it  was  no 

night 

ne<le 

He  lay,  and  thoughte  how  that  he 

To   bidde    him   ought    to   done,   or 

niighte  serve                             440 

ought  for-bede; 

His  laily  best,  hir  thank  for  to  de- 

For which  she  thoughte  that  love,  al 

serve. 

come  it  late. 
Of  alle   loye  hadde  opned  hir  the 

64. 

Nil  I  nought  swere,  al-though  he  lay 
softe, 

yate. 

That  in  his  thought  he  nas  sumwhat 

68.    And  shortly  of   this    proces  for  to 

disesed. 

pace,                                         470 

Ne   that   he  tornede  on  his    pilwes 

So   wel   his   werk   and    wordes    he 

ofte, 

bisette, 

And  wolde  of  that  him  missed  han 

That   he   so    ful   stood  in   his  lady 

hen  sesed;                                 445 

grace. 

But    in    swich    cas    man    is    nought 

That  twenty  thousand  tymes,  or  she 

ahvey  plesed, 

lette, 

For  ought  I  wot,  no  more  than  was 

She  thonked  god  she  ever  with  him 

he; 

mette ; 

That  can  I  deme  of  possibilitee. 

So  coude  he  him  governe  in  swich 
servyse,                                      475 

65- 

But  certeyn  is,  to  purpos  for  to  go. 

That  al  the  world  ne  mighte  it  bet 

That  in  this  whyle,  as  writen  is  in 

devyse. 

geste,                                        450 

He  say  his  lady  soni-t,\Tne;   and  also 

69.    For-why  she  fond  him  so    discreet 

She  with  him  spak,  whan  that  she 

in  al, 

dorste  or  leste. 

So  secret,  and  of  swich  obeisaunce, 

And  by  hir  bothe  avys,  as  was  the 

That  wel  she  felte  he  was  to  hir  a 

beste. 

wal 

Apoynteden  ful  warly  in  this  nede, 

Of  steel,  and  sheld  from  every  dis- 

So  as  they  dorste,  how  they  wolde 

plesaunce;                                 480 

procede.                                   455 

That,    to    ben    in   his   gode    gover- 
naunce. 

66. 

But    it   was   spoken   in   so   short   a 

So  wys   he  was,  she  was    no  more 

wyse. 

afered. 

In  swich  avvayt  ahvey,  and  in  swich 

I   mene,  as  fer  as  oughte  ben   re- 

fere, 

quered. 

Lest  any  wyght  divynen  or  devyse 

Wolde  of  hem  two,  or  to  it  leye  an 

70.    And  Pandarus,  to  quike  alwey  the  fyr. 

ere. 

Was    ever    y-lyke    prest  and    dili- 

That al  this  world  so  leef  to  hem  ne 

gent;                                        485 

were                                           460 

To    ese    his    frend    was   set    al    his 

As   that    Cupido  wolde  hem  grace 

desyr. 

sende 

He  shof  ay  on,  he  to  and  fro  was 

To  maken  of  hir  speche  aright  an 

sent  ; 

enile. 

He   lettres   bar   whan    Troilus   was 
absent. 

67. 

But  thilke  litel  that   they  speke  or 

That  never  man,  as  in  his  freendes 

wroughte, 

nede, 

His  wyse  goost  took  ay  of  al  swich 

Ne  bar  him  bet  than  he,  with-outen 

hede. 

drede.                                      490 

274 


TROILUS   AND    CRISEYUE.     BOOK    III. 


[49 '-543- 


71.    But  now,  paraunter,  som  man  way  ten 

Touching  hir  love,  were  at  the  fulle 

wolde 

up-bounde. 

That  every  worde,  or  sonde,  or  look. 

Hadde  out   of  doute    a  tyme   to  it 

or  chere 

founde. 

Of  Troilus  that  I  rehersen  sholde, 

In   al    this   whyle,    un-to    his    lady 

75- 

For  he  with  greet  deliberacioun 

dere; 

Hadde    every    thing     that     her-to 

I  trowe  it  were  a  long  thing  for  to 

mighte  avayle                          520 

here;                                          495 

Forn-cast,    and    put    in   execucioun, 

Or  of  what  wight  that  stant  in  swich 

And    neither   laft    for   cost   ne    for 

disioynte, 

travayle; 

His  wordes  alle,  or  every  look,  to 

Come  if  hem  lest,  hem  sholde  no- 

poynte. 

thing  fayle; 
And   for   to   been  in  ought  espyed 

72.    For  sothe,  I  have  not  herd  it  doon 

there. 

er  this, 

That,   wiste   he   wel,  an   inpossible 

In  storye  noon,  ne  no  man  here,  I 

were.                                        525 

wene; 

And   though  I  wolde  I  coude  not. 

76. 

Dredelees,  it  cleer  was  in  the  wind 

y-wis;                                         500 

Of  every  pye  and  every  lette-game; 

For   ther  was  som    epistel  hem  bi- 

Now  al  is  wel,  for  al   the  world  is 

twene. 

blind 

That   wolde,   as  seyth   myn  auctor. 

In   this   matere,   bothe  fremed  and 

wel  contene 

tame. 

Neigh  half  this  book,  of  which  him 

This     timber     is     al    redy     up     to 

list  not  wryte; 

frame;                                        530 

How  sholde  I  thanne  a  lyne  of  it 

Us    lakketh    nought    but    that    we 

endyte? 

witen   wolde 
A    certein    houre,    in    whiche    she 

73.    But  to  the  grete  effect :  than  sey  I 

comen  sholde. 

thus,                                         505 

That   stonding   in    concord   and    in 

77- 

And   Troilus,   that   al  this   purvey- 

quiete 

aunce 

Thise  ilke   two,  Criseyde  and  Troi- 

Knew at  the  fulle,  and  waytede  on 

lus, 

it  ay. 

As   I    have   told,  and   in  this  tyme 

Hadde   here-up-on   eek    mad    gret 

swete, 

ordenaunce,                              535 

Save   only   often   mighte    they   not 

And  founde  his  cause,  and    ther-to 

mete, 

his  aray, 

Ne  layser  have  hir  speches   to  ful- 

If  that   he  were   missed,   night   or 

felle,                                           510 

day. 

That   it   befel   right   as  I  shal  yow 

Ther-whyle     he    was    aboute     this 

telle. 

servyse. 
That    he   was   goon    to    doon    his 

74.    That   Pandarus,   that   ever  dide   his 

sacrifyse, 

might 

Right  for  the  fyn  that  I  shal  speke 

78. 

And  moste  at  swich  a  temple  alone 

of  here. 

wake,                                          540 

As   for  to   bringe   to    his   hous  som 

Answered  of  Appollo  for  to  be; 

night 

4^nd   first,  to   seen  the  holy  laurer 

His  faire  nece,  and  Troilus  y-fere, 

quake. 

Wher-as    at    leyser    al    this    heigh 

Er   that   Apollo    spak    out    of    the 

matere,                                    516 

tree, 

S44-S95-] 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  III. 


275 


To    telle     him    next    whan     Grekes 

shoklen  flee, 
And  forthy  lette  him  no  man,  god 

forbade,  545 

But    preye    Apollo   helpen    in   this 

nede. 

79.  Now  is  ther  litel  more  for  to  done, 
But  Pandare  up,  and  shortly  for  to 

seyne, 
Right  sone  upon  the  chaunging  of 

the  mone, 
Whan  lightles  is  the  world  a  night 
or  tweyne,  550 

Tl  And  that  the  welken  shoop  him  for 

^^i5*'^«-^«»<*'C.^o  reyne, 

'^^■^^n      He  streight  a-morwe  un-to  his  nece 
wente ; 
Ye  han  wel  herd  the  fyn  of  his  en- 
tente. 

80.  Whan  he  was  come,  he  gan  anoon 

to  pleye 
As  he  was  wont,  and  of  him-self  to 

lape;  555 

And  fynally,  he  swor   and   gan  hir 

seye, 
By  this   and   that,  she  sholde   him 

not  escape, 
Ne  lenger    doon   him    after   hir   to 

gape; 
But  cerleynly  she  moste,  by  hir  leve. 
Come  soupen  in  his  hous  with  him 

at  eve.  560 

81.  At  whiche  she  Toug^  and  gan  hir 

faste  excuse. 
And    seyde,    'it    rayneth;    lo,    how 

sholde  I  goon?' 
'  Lat  be,'  quod  he,   '  ne   stond  not 

thus    to   muse; 
This  moot  be  doon,  ye  shal  be  ther 

anoon.' 
So  at  the  laste  her-of  they  felle  at 

oon,    ^!~-^^-\^ts^  565 

Or  elles,  softe  he  swor   hir   in    hir 

ere. 
He  nolde  never  come  ther  she  were. 

82.  Sone  after  this,  to  him  she  gan  to 

rowne,   to4L<  «/*»  -^-'— 
And    asked    him    if    Troilus   were 
there? 


He  swor  hir,  '  nay,  for  he  was  out 

of  towne,'  570 

And  seyde,  '  nece,  I    pose   that   he 

were, 
Yew  thurfte  never  have   the   more 

fere. 
For  rather   then   men   mighte  him 

ther  aspye. 
Me  were  lever  a   thousand-fold   to 

dye.' 

83.  Nought    list    myn   auctor    fully   to 

declare  575 

What   that  she   thoughte  whan   he 

seyde  so. 
That  Troilus  was  out  of  town  y-fare, 
As  if  he  seyde  ther-of  sooth  or  no; 
But  that,  with-oute  awayt,  with  him 

to  go, 
She  graunted  him,  sith  he  hir  that 

bisoughte,  580 

And,   as   his    nece,   obeyed    as   hir 

oughte. 

84.  But    nathelees,   yet    gan    she    him 

biseche, 
Al-though  with  him  to  goon  it  was 

no  fere, 
For   to   be   war   of  goosish   peples 

speche. 
That   dremen   thinges  whiche   that 

never  were,  585 

And     wel     avyse     him    whom    he 

broughte  there; 
And  seyde  him,  'eem,  sin  I  mot  on 

yow  triste, 
Loke  al  be  wel,  and  do  now  as  yow 

liste. ' 

85.  He  swor  hir,  *yis,  by  stokkes  and 

by  stones. 
And  by  the  goddes  that  in  hevene 

dvvelle,  590 

Or  elles  were  him  lever,  soule  and 

bones, 
With  Pluto  king  as   depe  been   in 

helle 
As  Tantalus  ! '    What  sholde  I  more 

telle? 
Whan  al  was  wel,  he  roos  and  took 

his  leve, 
And  she  to  souper  com,  whan  it  was 

eve,  595 


276 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[596-647. 


86.  With  a  certayn  of  hir  owene  men, 
And  with  hir  faire  nece  Antigone, 
And  othere  of  hir  wommen  nyne  or 

ten; 
But   who   was   glad   now,   who,    as 

trowe  ye, 
But  Troilus,  that  stood  and  mighte 

it  see  600 

Thurgh-out    a    litel  windowe   in   a 

stewe, 
Ther  he  bishet,  sin   midnight,  was 

in  mewe, 

87.  Unwist  of  every  wight  but  of  Pan- 

dare? 
But   to   the  poynt;   now  whan   she 

was  y-come 
With    alle   loye,   and    alle    frendes 

fare,  605 

Hir  eem  anoon  in  armes  hath  hir 

nome. 
And  after   to  the   souper,  alle  and 

some, 
Whan  tyme  was,  ful  softe  they  hem 

sette; 
God  wot,  ther  was  no  deyntee  for  to 

fette. 

88.  And  after   souper   gonnen   they  to 

ryse,  610 

At  ese  wel,  with  hertes  fresshe  and 

glade. 
And  wel  was  him  that  coude   best 

devyse 
To  lyken   hir,  or  that   hir  laughen 

made. 
He  song;   she  pleyde;   he  tolde  tale 

of  Wade. 
But  at  the  laste,  as  every  thing  hath 

ende,  615 

She  took  hir  leve,  and  nedes  wolde 

wende. 

89.  But      O,     Fortune,     executrice      of 

wierdes,  -/(-^  -"^u-^ 
O  influences  6f  thise  hevenes  hye  ! 
Soth  is,  that,  under  god,  ye  ben  our 

hierdes,  «ir/^^C/^v.«t^ 
Though  to  us  bestes  been  the  causes 

wrye.-^^^'^-C^te-k. —  620 

This  mene  I  now,  for  she  gan  hoom- 

ward  hye, 
But  execut  was  al  bisyde  hir  leve, 


At  the  goddes  wil;   for  which  she 
moste  bleve. 

90.    The   bente  mone   with   hir   homes 

pale,  CUCJ^  ,^^/a/a^-CtLe. . /T^r-n^Z-.  /-fCi^^^t 

•^J^j   Saturne,  and  love,  in  Cancro  ioyned 

That  swlch  a  rayn  fromAevene  gan 

avale. 
That  every  maner  womman  that  was 

there 
Hadde  of  that  smoky  reyn  a  verray 

fere ; 
At  which   Pandare   tho  lough,  and 

seyde  thenne, 
'  Now  were  it  tyme   a   lady   to   go 

hernie !  630 


91.  But   goode  nece,  if  I  mighte  ever 

plese 
Yow  any-thing,  than  prey  I  yow,' 

quod  he, 
'  To  doon  myn  herte  as  now  so  greet 

an  ese 
As  for  to  dwelle  here  al  this  night 

with  me, 
For-why  this   is  your  owene    hous, 

pardee.  635 

For,  by  my  trouthe,  I  sey  it  nought 

a-game. 
To  wende  as  now,  it  were  to  me  a 

shame.' 

92.  Criseyde,    whiche    that     coude     as 

muche   good 
As   half  a  world,  tok    hede  of  his 

preyere; 
And  sin   it   ron,  and  al   was  on   a 

flood,  640 

She  thoughte,  as  good  chep  may  I 

dwellen  here, 
And  graunte  it  gladly  with  a  freendes 

chere. 
And  have  a  thank,  as  grucche  and 

thanne   abyde; 
For  hoom  to  go  on  it  may  nought  wel 

bityde. 


i 


93.  'I  wol,'  quod  she,  'myn  uncle  leef 
and  dere,  645 

Sin  that  yow  list,  it  skile  is  to  be  so; 

I  am  right  glad  with  yow  to  dwellen 
here; 


648-700.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


277 


I  seyde  but  a-game,  I  wolde  go.' 
'  Y-\vis,  graunt  mercy,  nece  ! '  quod 

he  thi); 
'  Were  it  a  game  or  no,  soth  for  to 

telle,  650 

Now  am  I  glad,  sin  that  yow  list  to 

dvvelle.' 

94.  Thus  al  is  wel;   but  tho  bigan  aright 
The   newe    loye,   and    al    the    fest 

agayn; 
But  Pandarus,  if  goodly  hadde  he 

might. 
He  wolde  han  hyed  hir  to    bedde 

fayn,  655 

And  seye,   '  lord,   this   is   an    huge 

rayn ! 
This  were  a  weder  fortoslepen  inne; 
And  that  I  rede  us  sone  to  biginne. 

95.  And  nece,  woot  ye  wher  I  wol  yow 

leye. 
For   that   we   shul   not    liggen    fer 

asonder,  660 

And  for  ye  neither   shullen,  dar   I 

seye. 
Hern  noise  of  reynes  nor  of  thonder? 
By   god,    right    in    my    lyte    closet 

yonder. 
And  I  wol  in  that  outer  hous  allone 
Be  wardcyn  of  your  wommen  everi- 

chone  665 

96.  And  in  this  middel  chaumbre  that 

ye  see 
Shul  youre  wommen  slepen  wel  and 

softe; 
And  ther  I  seyde  shal  your-selve  be; 
And  if  ye  liggen  wel  to-night,  com 

ofte, 
And  careth  not  what  weder  is  on- 

lofte.  670 

The  wyn  anon,  and  whan  so  that 

yow  leste. 
So  go  we  slepe,  I  trowe  it  be   the 

beste.' 

97.  Ther   nis    no   more,   but   here-after 

sone. 
The  voyde  dronke,  and  travers  drawe 

anon, 
Gan  every  wight,  that  hadde  nought 

to  done  675 


More    in    that    place,   out   of  the 

chauml)cr  gon. 
And     ever-mo     so     sternelich     it 

ron. 
And  blew  ther-with  so  wonderliche 

loude. 
That  wel  neigh  no  man  hercn  other 

coude. 

98.  Tho  Pandarus,  hir  eem,  right  as  him 

oughte,  680 

With  women  swiche  as   were   hir 

most  aboute, 
Ful  glad  un-to  hir  bedtles  syde  hir 

broughte. 
And  toke  his  leve,  and  gan  ful  lowe 

loute. 
And  seyde,  '  here  at  this  closet-dore 

with-oute. 
Right  over-thwart,   your    wommen 

liggen  alle,  685 

That,  whom  yow  liste  of  hem,  ye 

may  here  calle.' 

99.  So  whan  that  she  was  in  the  closet 

leyd. 
And    alle    hir    wommen    forth    by 

ordenaunce 
A-bedde    weren,    ther   as    I    have 

seyd. 
There  was  no  more  to  skippen  nor 

to  traunce,  690 

But  boden  go  to  bedde,  with  mis- 

chaunce. 
If    any  wight    was   steringe    any- 
where. 
And  late   hem  slepe  that  a-bedde 

were. 

100.    But  Pandarus,  that  wel  coude  eche 

a  del 
The  olde  daunce,  and  every  poynt 

ther-inne,  695 

Whan  that  he  sey  that  alle  thing 

was  wel. 
He  thoughte  he  wolde   up-on    his 

werk  biginne. 
And    gan    the    stewe-dore  al  softe 

un-pinne, 
And    stille    as    stoon,    with-outen 

lenger  lette. 
By  Troilus   a-doun   right   he    him 

sette.  700 


278 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  III. 


[701-750 


loi.    And,  shortly  to  the  poynt  right  for 

to  gon, 
Of  al  this  werk  he  tolde  him  word 

and  ende, 
And  seyde,  '  make  thee  redy  right 

anon, 
For  thou  shalt  in-to  hevene  blisse 

wende.' 
'  Now  blisful  Venus,  thou  me  grace 

sende,'  705 

Quod   Troilus,  '  for   never   yet   no 

nede 
Hadde  I  er  now,  ne  halvendel  the 

drede.' 

102.  Quod    Pandarus,    '  ne   drede   thee 

never  a  del, 
For  it  shal  been  right  as  thou  wilt 

desyre; 
So  thryve  I,  this  night  shal  I  make 

it  wel,  710 

Or   casten   al   the    gruwel   in    the 

fyre.' 
'  Yit  blisful  Venus,  this  night  thou 

me  enspyre. 
Quod   Troilus,  '  as  wis   as   I   thee 

serve, 
And  ever  bet  and  bet  shal,  til  I 

sterve. 

103.  And  if  I    hadde,  O  Venus  ful   of 

muvthe,  715 

Aspectes    badde    of    Mars    or    of 

Saturne, 
Or  thou  combust  or  let  were  in  my 

birthe, 
Thy  fader  prey  al  thilke  harm  dis- 

turne 
Of  grace,  and  that    I   glad   ayein 

may  turne. 
For  love  of  him    thou  lovedest  in 

the  shawe,  720 

I  mene  Adoon,  that  with  the  boor 

was  slawe. 

104.  O  love  eek,  for  the  love  of  faire 

Europe, 
The  whiche  in  forme  of  bole  away 

thou  fette; 
Now  help,  O  Mars,  thou  with  thy 

blody  cope, 
For  love  of  Cipris,  thou  me  nought 

ne  lette;  725 


O  Phebus,  thenk  whan  Dane  hir- 

selven  shette 
Under  the  bark,  and  laurer  wex  for 

drede, 
Yet  for  hir  love,  O  help  now  at  this 

nede ! 

105.  Mercuric,  for  the  love   of  Hierse 

eke, 
For  which  Pallas  was  with  Aglauros 

wrooth,  730 

Now  help,  and  eek  Diane,  I  thee 

biseke, 
That   this  viage   be    not    to    thee 

looth. 
O  fatal  sustren,  which,  er  any  clooth 
Me  shapen  was,    my    destene   me 

sponne. 
So  helpeth  to  this  werk  that  is  bi- 

gonne ! '  735 

106.  Quod   Pandarus,  '  thou    wrecched 

mouses  herte. 
Art  thou  agast  so  that  she  wol  thee 

byte? 
Why,  don  this  furred  cloke  up-on 

thy  sherte, 
And  folowe  me,  for  I  wol  han  the 

wyte; 
But  byd,  and  lat  me  go  bifore  a 

lyte.'  740 

And  with  that  word  he  gan  un-do 

a  trappe. 
And  Troilus  he  broughte  in  by  the 

lappe. 

107.  The  Sterne  wind  so  loude  gan  to 

route 
That  no  wight  other  noyse  mighte 

here; 
And  they   that   layen  at  the  dore 

with-oute,  745 

Ful     sykerly     they     slepten     alle 

y-fere; 
And    Pandarus,  with    a  ful    sobre 

chere, 
Goth  to  the  dore  anon  with-outen 

lette, 
Ther-as   they   laye,  and  softely   it 

shette. 

108.  And  as   he    com  ayeinward    priv- 

ely,  750 


75i-i>oo.] 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   111. 


279 


His  nece  awook,  and  asked  '  who 

I  mene,   as   love  an  other  in  this 

goth  there?' 

whyle, 

'  My     dere     nece,'    quod    he,    '  it 

She  doth  hir-self  a  shame,  and  him 

am  I; 

a  gyle. 

Ne  wondreth  not,  ne  have  of  it  no 

fere;  ' 

112.    Now   wherby  that   I   telle  yow  al 

And  ner  he  com,  and  seyde  hir  in 

this? 

hir  ere. 

Ye  woot  your-self,  as   wel  as  any 

'  No  word,  for  love  of  god  I  yow 

wight, 

biseche;                                 755 

How    that    your     love     al      fully 

Lat  no  wight  r)'se   and   heren    of 

graunted  is                           7S0 

our  speche.' 

To  Troilus,  the  worthieste  knight, 

Oon    of    this    world,   and    ther-to 

109,    '  What  I  which  wey  be  ye  comen, 

trouthe  plyght, 

henedicite  ? ' 

That,  but  it  were  on  him  along,  ye 

Quod  she,  '  and  how  thus  unwist  of 

nolde 

hem  alle?  ' 

Him  never   falsen,  whyl   ye   liven 

•  Here  at    this   secre  trappe-dore,' 

sholde. 

quod  he. 

Quod   tho    Criseyde,  'lat   me  som 

113.    Now  slant  it  thus,  that  sith  I  fro 

wight  calle.'                           760 

yow  wente,                              785 

•  Ey !    god  forbede   that   it  sholde 

This  Troilus,    right   platly    for    to 

falle,' 

seyn. 

Quod    Pandarus,    '  that    ye    swich 

Is    thurgh    a    goter,   by    a    prive 

foly  wroughte ! 

wente, 

They    mighte     denie    thing    they 

In-to    my   chaumbre    come   in   al 

never  er  thoughte ! 

this  reyn. 

Unwist     of    every     maner    wight, 

no.    It  is  nought  good  a  sleping  hound 

certeyn. 

to  wake, 

Save   of   my-self,  as  wisly  have    I 

Ne  yeve  a  wight  a   cause   to  de- 

loye,                                       790 

vyne;                                      765 

And  by  that  feith  I  shal  Pryam  of 

Your  wommen  slepen  alle,  I   un- 

Troye ! 

der-take, 

So   that,  for   hem,  the   hous   men 

1 14.    And  he  is  come  in   swich    peyne 

mighte  myne  ; 

and  distresse 

And   slepen   wolen   til   the   sonne 

That,  but  he  be  al  fully  wood  by 

shyne. 

this. 

And  whan  my  tale  al  brought  is  to 

He  sodeynly  mot  falle  in-to  wod- 

an  ende. 

nesse. 

Unwist,  right  as  I  com,  so  wol   I 

But-if  god  helpe;    and  cause  why 

wende.                                   770 

this  is,                                    795 

He  seyth  him  told  is,  of  a  freend 

III.    Now  nece  myn,  ye  shul  wel  under- 

of  his. 

stonde,' 

How  that  ye  sholde  love  oon  that 

Quod    he,  'so  as  ye  wommen  de- 

hatte  Horaste, 

men  alle. 

For  sorwe  of  which  this  night  shalt 

That    for  to  holde  in  love  a  man 

been  his  laste.' 

in  honde. 

And    him  hir  "leef"    and    "dere 

115.    Criseyde,  which  that  al  this  won- 

herte "  calle, 

der  herde, 

And  maken  him  an  ho\v\-e  above 

Gan     sodeynly    aboute    hir    herte 

a  calle,                                  775 

colde,                                     800 

28o 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[801-853. 


And    with    a    syk    she    sorwfuUy 

As  every  loye  of  worldly  thing  mot 

answerde, 

flee. 

'  Alias !     I    wende,    who-so     tales 

Than    every  tyme  he  that  hath  in 

tulde, 

memorie, 

My  dere  herte  wolde  me  not  holde 

The    drede    of  lesing  maketh  him 

So   lightly  fals!     alias!    conceytes 

that  he                                     830 

wronge, 

May  in  no  parfit  selinesse  be. 

What    harm    they    doon,  for  now 

And  if  to  lese   his  loye    he  set    a 

live  I  to  longe !                     805 

myte. 

Than  semeth  it  that  loye  is  worth 

116.    Horaste !  alias!  and  falsen  Troilus? 

ful  lyte. 

I  knowe    him    not,  god  helpe   me 

so,'  quod  she  ; 

120.     Wherfore    I    wol    deffyne    in    this 

•Alias!    what   wikked   spirit    tolde 

matere. 

him  thus  ? 

That    trewely,    for    ought   I     can 

Now  certes,  een,  to-morwe,  and  I 

espye,                                     835 

him  see, 

Ther    is    no   verray   wele    in   this 

I  shall  ther-of  as  ful  excusen  me 

world  here. 

As     ever    dide    womman,    if   him 

But     0,     thou     wikked     serpent 

lyke;'                                     8n 

lalousye, 

And   with    that   word  she  gan  ful 

Thou     misbeleved     and     envious 

sore  syke. 

folye, 

Why  hastow  Troilus  me  mad  un- 

117.    '0    god!'    quod  she,   '  so  worldly 

triste, 

selinesse, 

That   never  yet  agilte  him,  that  I 

Which  clerk es  callen  fals  felicitee, 

wiste  ? '                                   840 

Y-medled  is    with    many    a  bitter- 

nesse!                                       815 

121.    Quod  Pandarus,  'thus  fallen  is  this 

Ful  anguisshous  than  is,  god  woot,' 

cas.' 

quod  she. 

'  Why,  uncle  myn,'  quod  she,  '  who 

'  Condicioun   of  veyn  prosperitee; 

tolde  him  this? 

For    either    loyes    comen    nought 

Why    doth   my    dere   herte   thus, 

y-fere, 

alias?' 

Or  elles  no  wight  hath  hem  alwey 

'  Ye  woot,  ye  nece  myn,'  quod  he, 

here. 

'what  is; 

I  hope  al  shal  be  wel  that  is  amis. 

1 18.    0    brotel    wele    of   mannes    loye 

For  ye  may  quenche  al  this,  if  that 

unstable !                                 820 

yow  leste,                              846 

With  what    wight  so    thou   be,  or 

And  doth  right  so,  for  I  holde  it 

how  thou  pleye, 

the  beste.' 

Either  he  woot  that  thou,  loye,  art 

muable, 

122.    'So   shal   I    do   to-morwe,   y-wis,' 

Or  woot  it  not,  it  moot  ben  con  of 

quod  she. 

tweye; 

'And  god  to-forn,  so  that  it  shal 

Now  if  he  woot  it  not,  how  may  he 

suffyse.' 

seye 

'To-morwe?    alias,    that    were    a 

That    he   hath    verray    loye    and 

fayr,'  quod  he,                      850 

selinesse,                                825 

•Nay,  nay,  it  may  not  stonden  in 

That  is  of  ignoraunce  ay  in  derk- 

this  wyse; 

nesse? 

For,  nece  myn,  thus  wryten  clerkes 

119.    Now  if  he  woot  that  loye  is  transi- 

wyse. 
That    peril    is  with    drecching   in 

torie, 

y-drawe  ; 

854-903-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


281 


Nay,  swich    abodes    been     nought 

Nought   only  this  delay   comth    of 

worth  an  hawe. 

folye, 

Hut  of  malyce,  if  that  I  shal  nought 

123.    Nece,  al  thing  hath   tyme,   I    dar 

lye.                                         8S0 

avowe  ;                                    855 

What,  platly,  and  ye  suffre  him  in 

For  whan  a  chaumber  a-fyr  is,  or 

distresse. 

an  halle, 

Ye  neither  bountee  doon  ne  gen- 

Wei  more  nede  is,  it  sodeynly  res- 

tilesse !  ' 

cowe 

Than  to  dispute,  and  axe  amonges 

127.    Quod  tho  Criseyde,  'wole  ye  doon 

alle 

0  thing, 

How  is   this  candele   in  the  straw 

And  ye  therwith  shal  stinte  al  his 

y-falle  ? 

disese; 

A !   henedicite !  for  al  among  that 

Have    here,  and  bereth    him   this 

fare                                           860 

blewe  ring,                              885 

The    harm   is  doon,  and   fare-wel 

For  ther  is  no-thing   mighte   him 

feldefare ! 

bettre  plese. 

Save  I  my-self,  ne  more  his  herte 

124.    And,    nece    myn,   ne   take   it   not 

apese ; 

a-greef. 

And  sey  my  dere  herte,  that  his 

If  that  ye  suffre  him  al  night  in  this 

sorwe 

wo, 

Is  causeles,  that  shal  be  seen  to- 

God   help   nie  so,  ye   hadde   him 

morwe.' 

never  leef, 

That  dar  I  seyn,  now  there  is  but 

128.    'A  ring?'  quod  he,  'ye,  hasel-wodes 

we  two;                                   865 

shaken !                                   890 

But  wel  I  woot,  that  ye  wol  not  do 

Ye,  nece  myn,  that  ring  moste  han 

so; 

a  stoon 

Ye  been  to  wys  to  do  so  gret  folye. 

That    mighte     dede     men     alyve 

To    putte    his    lyf    al     night    in 

maken; 

lupartye.' 

And  swich  a  ring,  trowe  I  that  ye 

have  noon. 

125.    '  Iladde  I  him  never  leef?  By  god. 

Discrecioun   out  of  your   heed    is 

I  wene 

goon; 

Ye  hadde  never  thing  so  leef,'  quod 

That  fele   I  now,'  quod  he,  '  and 

she.                                         870 

that  is  routhe;                        895 

*  Now  by  my  thrift,'  quod  he,  '  that 

0  tyme  y-lost,  wel  maystow  cursen 

shal  be  sene; 

slouthe ! 

For,  sin  ye  make  this  ensample  of 

me, 

129.    Wot  ye  not    wel   that   noble   and 

If  I  al  night  wokle  him  in  sorwe 

heigh  corage 

see 

Ne  sorweth  not,  ne  stinteth  eek  for 

For  al  the  tresour  in  the  toun  of 

lyte? 

Troye, 

But   if    a   fool   were    in    a   lalous 

I  bidde  god,   I   never   mote   have 

rage. 

loye!                                      875 

I    nolde    setten    at    his    sorwe    a 

myte,                                      900 

126.    Now  loke  thanne,  if  ye,  that  been 

But  feffe  him  with  a  fewe  wordes 

his  love. 

whyte 

Shul    putte    al    night    his    lyf    in 

Another  day,  whan  that  I  mighte 

lupartye 

him  finde: 

For   thing  of  nought!      Now,  by 

But  this  thing  stont  al  in  another 

that  god  above, 

kinde. 

282 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[904-954. 


130.  This  is  so  gentil  and  so  tendre  of 

herte, 
That  witii    his    deeth    he  wol   his 

sorwes  wreke;  905 

For  trusteth  wel,  how  sore  that  him 

snierte, 
He  wol  to  yow  no  lalouse  wordes 

speke. 
And  for-thy,  nece,  er  that  his  herte 

brake, 
So  spek  your-self  to  him  of  this 

matere; 
For  with  o  word  ye  may  his  herte 

stere.  910 

131.  Now  have  I  told  what  peril  he  is 

inne, 
And  his  coming  unwist  is  to  every 

wight; 
Ne,  pardee,  harm  may  ther  be  noon 

ne  sinne; 
I  wol  my-self  be  with  yow  al  this 

night. 
Ye  knowe  eek  how  it  is  your  owne 

knight,  915 

And  that,  by  right,  ye  moste  upon 

him  triste, 
And  I  al  prest  to  fecche  him  whan 

yow  liste.' 

132.  This  accident  so  pitous  was  to  here, 
And  eek  so  lyk  a  sooth,  at  pryme 

face. 
And  Trdilus  hir  knight  to  hir  so 

dere,  920 

His  prive   coming,  and   the   siker 

place. 
That,  though  that  she  dide  him  as 

thanne  a  grace, 
Considered    alle    thinges    as    they 

stode. 
No  wonder  is,  sin  she  dide  al  for 

gode. 

133.  Cryseyde  answerde,  'as  wisly  god 

at  resle  925 

My  sowle  bringe,  as  me  is  for  him 

wo ! 
And  eem,  y-wis,  fayn  wolde  I  doon 

the  beste. 
If  that  I  hadde  grace  to  do  so. 
But  whether  that  ye  dwelle  or  for 

him  go, 


I   am,   til   god    me  bettre   minde 

sende,  930 

At  dulcarnon,  right  at  my  wittes 
ende.' 

134.  Quod  Pandarus,  'ye,  nece,  wol  ye 

here? 
Dulcarnon  called  is  "  fleminge  of 

wrecches  "; 
It  semeth  hard,  for  wrecches  wol 

not  lere 
For  verray  slouthe  or  othere  wilful 

tecches;  935 

This  seyd  by  hem  that  be  not  worth 

two  fecches. 
But  ye  ben  wys,  and  that  we  han 

on  honde 
Nis  neither  hard,  ne  skilful  to  with- 

stonde.' 

135.  'Thanne,  eem,'    quod    she,   'doth 

her-of  as  yow  list; 
But  er  he  come  I  wil  up  first  aryse ; 
And,  for  the  love  of  god,  sin  al  my 

trist  941 

Is  on  yow  two,  and  ye  ben  bothe 

wyse, 
So  wircheth  now  in  so  discreet  a 

wyse, 
That  I  honour  may  have,  and  he 

plesaunce; 
For  I  am  here  al  in  your  govern- 

aunce.'  945 

136.  'That  is  wel  seyd,'  quod  he,  'my 

nece  dere, 
Ther  good  thrift  on  that  wyse  gentil 

herte ! 
But  liggeth  stille,  and  taketh  him 

right  here. 
It  nedeth  not  no  ferther  for  him 

sterte; 
And  ech  of  yow  ese  otheres  sorwes 

smerte,  950 

For   love  of  god;    and,  Venus,  I 

thee  herie; 
For  sone  hope  I  we  shulle  ben  alle 

merie.' 

137.  This  Troilus  ful  sone  on  knees  him 

sette 
Ful   sobrely,  right   by  hir   beddes 
heed, 


955-"oo5-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


283 


And    in    his    beste    wyse    his    lady 

grctte;  955 

But   lord,  so  she  wex  sodeynliche 

reed ! 
Ne,  though  men  sholden  smyten  of 

hir  heed, 
She  coude  nought  a  word  a-right 

out-bringe 
So  sodeynly,  for  his  sodeyn  com- 

inge. 

138.  But  Pandarus,  that  so  wel  coude 

fele  9C0 

In    every    thing,    to    pleye    anoon 

bigan. 
And  seyde, '  nece,  see  how  this  lord 

can  knele ! 
Now,  for  your   trouthe,  seeth   this 

gentil  man ! ' 
And  with  that  word  he  for  a  quis- 

shen  ran. 
And    seyde,    '  kneleth    now,    whyl 

that  yow  leste,  965 

Ther  god  your  hertes  bringe  sone 

at  reste ! ' 

139.  Can  I  not  seyn,  for  she  bad  him 

not  ryse. 
If  sorwe  it  putte  out  of  hir  remem- 

braunce. 
Or  elles  if  she  toke  it  in  the  wyse 
Of  duetee,  as  for  his  observaunce; 
But  wel  finde  I  she  dide  him  this 

plesaunce,  971 

That  she  him  kiste,  al-though  she 

syked  sore; 
And  bad    him   sitte   adoun  with- 

outen  more. 

140.  Quod  Pandarus,  '  now  wol  ye  wel 

biginne; 
Now   doth    him   sitte,   gode    nece 

dere,  975 

Upon  your    beddes   syde  al  there 

with-inne. 
That  ech  of  yow  the  bet  may  other 

here.' 
And  with  that  word  he  drow  him  to 

the  fere, 
And  took  a  light,  and  fond  his  con- 

tenaunce 
As  for  to  loke   up-on  an  old  ro- 

maunce.  980 


141.  Criseyde,    that    was    Troilus    lady 

right, 
And  cleer    stood   on  a  ground   of 

sikernesse, 
Al  thoughte  she,  hir  servaunt  and 

hir  knight 
Ne  sholde  of  right  non  untrouthe 

in  hir  gesse. 
Yet  nathelees,  considered  his  dis- 

tresse,  985 

And  that  love  is  in  cause  of  swich 

folye. 
Thus    to    him    spak    she    of    his 

lelousye : 

142.  'Lo,  herte  myn,  as  wolde  the  ex- 

cellence 
Of  love,  ayeins  the  which  that  no 

man  may, 
Ne  oughte  eek  goodly  maken  re- 

sistence;  990 

And  eek  bycause  I  felte  wel  and 

say 
Your   grete    trouthe,   and    servyse 

every  day  ; 
And  that  your  herte  al  myn  was, 

sooth  to  seyne. 
This  droof  me    for  to  rewe  up-on 

your  peyne. 

143.  And  your  goodnesse  have  I  founde 

alwey  yit,  995 

Of  whiche,  my  dere  herte  and    al 

my  knight, 
I  thonke  it  yow,  as  fer  as  I  have 

wit, 
Al  can   I  nought  as  muche   as  it 

were  right  ; 
And    I,  enforth  my  conninge  and 

my  might, 
Have  and  ay  shal,  how  sore  that 

me  smerte,  1000 

Ben  to  yow  trewe  and  hool,  with 

al  myn  herte  ; 

144.  And  dredelees,  that  shal  be  founde 

at  preve.  — 

But,  herte  myn,  what  al  this  is  to 
seyne 

Shal  wel  be  told,  so  that  ye  noght 
yow  greve, 

Though  I  to  yow  right  on  your- 
self compleyne.  1005 


284 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[icx)6-io59. 


For  ther-with  mene   I  fynally  the 

peyne, 
That  halt  your  herte  and  myn  in 

hevinesse, 
Fully  to  sleen  and  every  wrong  re- 

dresse. 

145.  My  goode,  myn,  not  I  for-why  ne 

how 
That  lalousye,  alias!   that  wikked 

wivere,  loio 

Thus  causelees  is  cropen  in-to  yow; 
The  harm  of  which  I  wolde  fayn 

delivere ! 
Alias!  that  he,  al  hool,  or  of  him 

slivere, 
Shuld  have  his  refut  in  so  digne  a 

place, 
Ther  love  him  sone    out  of  your 

herte  arace !  1015 

146.  But    O,   thou    love,   O   auctor    of 

nature. 
Is  this  an  honour  to  thy  deitee, 
That  folk  ungiltif  suffren  here  iniure. 
And  who  that  giltif  is,  al  quit  goth 

he? 
O  were  it  leful  for  to  pleyne  on 

thee,  1020 

That  undeserved  suffrest  lalousye. 
And  that  I  wolde  up-on  thee  pleyne 

and  crye ! 

147.  Eek  al   my  wo   is  this,  that  folk 

now  usen 
To  seyn  right  thus,  "ye,  lalousye 

is  love !  " 
And  wolde  a  busshel  venim  al  ex- 

cusen,  1025 

For  that  o  greyn  of  love  is  on  it 

shove ! 
But  that  wot  heighe  god  that  sit 

above, 
If  it   be    lyker    love,    or    hate,    or 

granie; 
And  after  that,  it  oughte  here  his 

name.  1029 

148.  But  certeyn  is,  som  maner  lalousye 
Is  excusable  more  than  som,  y-vvis. 
As  whan  cause  is,  and  som  swich 

fantasye 
With  pietee  so  wel  repressed  is. 


That   it    unnethe    dooth    or   seyth 

amis, 
But  goodly  drinketh  up  al  his  dis- 

tresse;  I03S 

And   that  excuse  I,  for   the    gen- 

tilesse. 

149.  And   som   so   ful   of  furie    is   and 

despyt, 
That   it  sourmounteth    his   repres- 

sioun; 
But  herte  myn,  ye  be  not  in  that 

piyt, 

That  thanke  I  god,  for  whiche  your 
passioun  1040 

I  wol  not  calle  it  but  illusioun. 

Of  habundaunce  of  love  and  bisy 
cure, 

That  dooth  your  herte  this  disese 
endure. 

150.  Of  which  I  am  right  sory,  but  not 

wrooth; 
But,  for  my  devoir  and  your  hertes 

reste,  1 045 

Wher-so  yow  list,  by  ordal  or  by 

00th, 
By  sort,  or  in  what  wyse  so  yow 

leste, 
For  love  of  god,  lat  preve  it  for  the 

beste  ! 
And    if   that    I   be   giltif,   do   me 

deye. 
Alias !   what  mighte  I  more  doon 

or  seye?'  1050 

151.  With  that  a  fewe  brighte  teres  newe 
Out  of  hir  eyen  fille,  and  thus  she 

seyde, 
'  Now  god,  thou  wost,  in  thought 

ne  dede  untrewe 
To  Troilus  was  never  yet  Criseyde.' 
With  that   hir  heed   doun  in  the 

bed  she  leyde,  1055 

And  with  the  shete  it  wreigh,  and 

syghed  sore. 
And   held   hir   pees;    not  o  word 

spak  she  more. 

152.  But  now  help  god  to  quenchen  al 

this  sorwe. 
So  hope  I  that  he  shal,  for  he  best 
may; 


1060-1109.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEVDE.     BOOK   III. 


285 


Eor   I   have   seyn,  of   a   ful  misty 

Whan  al  is  wist,  than  am  I  not  t(j 

morwe                                    1060 

blame ! '                                1085 

Folwen   ful   ofte    a   mery  somercs 

clay; 

156 

Ther-with   the  sorwe  so  his  herte 

And    after    winter    folweth    grene 

shette. 

May. 

That  from  his  eyen  fil  ther  not  a 

Men  seen  alday,  and  reden  eek  in 

tere, 

stories, 

And   every    spirit    his   vigour    in- 

That    after    sharpe    shoures    been 

knette. 

victories. 

So    they    astoned    and    oppressed 
were. 

153.    This  Troilus,  whan  he  hir  wordes 

The  feling  of  his  sorwe,  or  of  his 

herde,                                   1065 

fere,                                      1 090 

Have  ye  no  care,  him  liste  not  to 

Or  of  ought  elles,  fled  was  out  of 

slepe; 

towne; 

For  it  thoughte  him  no  strokes  of 

And     doun    he    fel    al    sodeynly 

a  yerde 

a-swowne. 

To  here  or  seen  Criseyde  his  lady 

wepe ; 

157- 

This   was   no    litel    sorwe    for    to 

But  wel  he  felte  aboute  his  herte 

see; 

crepe, 

But  al  was  hust,  and  Pandare  up  as 

For  every  teer  which  that  Criseyde 

faste. 

asterte,                                  1070 

'  0  nece,  pees,  or  we  be  lost,'  quod 

The  crampe  of  deeth,  to  streyne 

he,                                         1095 

him  by  the  herte. 

'Beth  nought  agast;  '  but  certeyn, 
at  the  laste. 

154.    Affd  in  his  minde  he  gan  the  tyme 

For  this  or  that,  he  in-to   bedde 

acurse 

him  caste. 

That  he  cam   there,  and  that  he 

And    seyde,    '0    theef,    is    this    a 

was  born; 

mannes  herte?' 

For  now  is  wikke   y-turned  in-to 

And   of  he   rente  al   to    his   bare 

worse. 

sherte; 

And  al  that  labour  he  hath  doon 

biforn,                                    1075 

158. 

And  seyde,  '  nece,  but  ye  helpe  us 

He  wende  it  lost,  he  thoughte  he 

now,                                     1 100 

nas  but  lorn. 

Alias,  your  owne  Troilus  is  lorn  ! ' 

'0  Pandarus,'  thoughte  he,  'alias! 

'  Y-wis,  so   wolde    I,    and   I   wiste 

thy  wyle 

how. 

Serveth  of  nought,  so  weylawey  the 

Ful  fayn,'  quod  she;  'alias!  that  I 

whyle  ! ' 

was  born ! ' 
*  Ye,  nece,  wol  ye  pullen   out  the 

155.    And    therwithal    he    heng    a-doun 

thorn 

the  heed. 

That   stiketh   in   his   herte?'   quod 

And  iil  on  knees,  and  sorwfully  he 

Pandare;                              1105 

sighte;                                    loSo 

'  Sey  "  al  foryeve,"  and  stint  is  al 

What  mighte  he  seyn?  he  felte  he 

this  fare ! ' 

nas  but  deed, 

Forwrooth  was  she  that  shulde  his 

159. 

'  Ye,   that   to   me,'   quod   she,    '  ful 

sorwes  lighte. 

lever  were 

But  nathelees,  whan  that  he  speken 

Than  al  the  good  the  Sonne  aboute 

mighte, 

gnoth  '; 

Than    seyde   he   thus,   'god    wuot, 

And  thcr\vith-al  she  swoor  him  in 

that  of  this  game, 

his  ere, 

286 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[1110-1160. 


Y-wis,  my  dere  herte,  I  am  nought 

163. 

Quod  Pandarus,  'for  ought  I  can 

wrooth,                                11 10 

espyen,                                   11 35 

Have  here  my  trouthe   and   many 

This  light  nor  I  ne  serven  here  of 

another  00th; 

nought; 

Now   speek    to    me,  for   it   am  I, 

Light  is  not  good  for  syke  folkes 

Cryseyde !  ' 

yen. 

But  al  for  nought;   yet  mighte  he 

But  for  the  love  of  god,  sin  ye  be 

not  a-breyde.           .  , 

brought 
In   thus   good    plyt,   lat   now  non 

160.    Therwith  his  pous  and  pawmes  of 

hevy  thought 

his  hondes 

Ben  hanginge  in  the  hertes  of  yow 

They  gan   to  frote,  and  wete  his 

tweye : '                                  1 1 40 

temples  tweyne,                   1 115 

And  bar  the  candele  to  the  chim- 

And,  to  deliveren  him  from  bittre 

eneye. 

bondes. 

She   ofte  him   kiste;    and,  shortly 

164. 

Sone  after  this,  though  it  no  nede 

for  to  seyne, 

were. 

Him  to  revoken  she    dide  al  hir 

Whan  she  swich  othes  as  hir  list 

peyne. 

devyse 

And  at  the  laste,  he  gan  his  breeth 

Hadde  of  him  take,  hir  thoughte 

to  drawe. 

tho  no  fere, 

And  of  his  swough  sone  after  that 

Ne  cause   eek  non,  to  bidde  him 

adawe,                                   II20 

thennes  ryse.                       1145 
Yet   lesse   thing    than   othes   may 

161.    And  gan  bet  minde  and  reson  to 

suffyse 

him  take, 

In  many  a  cas;   for  every  wight,  I 
gesse. 

But  wonder   sore    he   was   abayst. 

y-wis. 

That  loveth  wel  meneth  but  gen- 

And  with  a  syk,  whan  he  gan  bet 

tilesse. 

a-wake, 

He   seyde,   '  O   mercy,  god,   what 

165. 

But  in  effect  she  wolde  wite  anoon 

thing  is  this?' 

Of  what  man,  and  eek  where,  and 

'  Why  do  ye  with  your-selven  thus 

also  why                             1 1 50 

amis?'                                  1 1 25 

He  lelous  was,  sin  ther  was  cause 

Quod     tho    Criseyde,    'is    this    a 

noon; 

mannes  game? 

And  eek  the  signe,  that  he  took  it 

What,  Troilus  !  wol  ye  do  thus,  for 

by, 

shame?' 

She  bad  him  that  to  telle  hir  bisily. 
Or  elles,  certeyn,  she  bar  him  on 

162.    And  therwith-al  hir  arm  over  him 

honde. 

she  leyde, 

That  this  was  doon  of  malis,  hir  to 

And  al  foryaf,  and  ofte  tyme  him 

fonde.                                   1 1 55 

keste. 

He  thonked  hir,  and  to  hir  spak, 

166. 

With-outen    more,   shortly    for    to 

and  seyde                             11 30 

seyne. 

As    fil    to    purpos    for    his    herte 

He   moste   obeye    un-to    his    lady 

reste. 

heste; 

And  she  to  that  answerde  him  as 

And  for  the  lasse  harm,  he  moste 

hir  leste; 

feyne. 

And  with   hir  goodly  wordes  him 

He   seyde   hir,  whan   she  was   at 

disporte 

swiche  a  feste 

She  gan,  and   ofte   his   sorwes  to 

She  mighte  on  him  ban  loked  at 

coiuforte. 

the  leste;                              11 60 

Ii6i 

-1 2 1 2.]             TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III.                           287 

• 

Not  I  nut  what,  al  dere  y-nough  a 

No-thing   but  wel  ;    and,  sodeynly 

risslic, 

avysed, 

As  he   that   nedes   moste  a  cause 

He  hir  in  amies  faste  to  him  hente. 

hsshe. 

And    Pandarus,    with    a    ful   good 
entente, 

167. 

And  she  answerde,  '  swete,  al  were 

Leyde  him  to  slepe,  and  seyde,  '  if 

it  so, 

ye  ben  wyse. 

What  harm  was  that,  sin  I  non  yvel 

Swonneth  not  now,  lest  more  folk 

mene? 

aryse. '                                   1 1 90 

For,  by  that  god  that  boughte  us 

hothe  two,                             1 165 

171. 

What  mighte  or  may  the  sely  larke 

In  alio  thinge  is  niyn  entente  clene. 

seye, 

Swich  arguments  ne  been  nut  worth 

Whan  that  the  sparhauk  hath  it  in 

a  bene; 

his  foot? 

Wol  ye  the  childish  lalous  contre- 

I  can  no  more,  but  of  thise    ilke 

fete? 

tweye, 

Now  were  it  worthy  that  ye  were 

To   whom   this   tale   Sucre   be    or 

y-bete.' 

soot. 
Though  that  I  tarie  a   yeer,  som- 

16S. 

Tho     Troilus     gan     sorwfuUy     to 

tyme  I  moot,                       1195 

syke,                                     1 1 70 

After  myn  auctor,  tellen  hir  glad- 

Lest  she  be  wrooth,  him  thoughte 

nesse. 

his  herte  deyde  ; 

As  wel  as  I  have  told  hir  hevinesse. 

And  seyde, '  alias !  upon  my  sorwes 

syke 

172. 

Criseyde,  which  that  felte  hir  thus 

Have    mercy,   swete    herte     myn, 

y-take. 

Cryseyde ! 

As  writen  clerkes  in  hir  bokes  olde. 

And  if  that,  in  tho  wordes  that  I 

Right  as  an  aspes  leef  she  gan  to 

seyde, 

quake,                                  i 200 

Be  any  wrong,  I  wol  no  more  tres- 

Whan   she  him   felte    hir    in    his 

pace  ;                                  -1175 

armes  folde. 

Do  what  yow  list,  I  am  al  in  your 

But  Troilus,  al  hool  of  cares  colde, 

grace.' 

Gan  thanken  tho  the  blisful  god- 
des sevene; 

169. 

And  she  answerde,  'of  gilt  miseri- 

Thus sondry  peynes  bringen    folk 

cord  e  ! 

to  hevene. 

That  is  to  seyn,  that  I  foryeve  al 

this  ; 

173- 

This    Troilus    in    armes    gan   hir 

And  ever-more  on  this  night  yow 

streyne.                                1205 

recorde, 

And  seyde,  '  O  swete,  as  ever  mote 

And  beth  wel  war  ye  do  no  more 

I  goon, 

amis.'                                   1 1 80 

Now   be   ye    caught,  now    is  ther 

'  Nay,  dere    herte   myn,'  quod  he, 

but  we   tweyne  ; 

'  y-wis.' 

Now  yeldeth  yow,  for  other  boot  is 

'And  now,'  quod  she,  'that  I  have 

noon.' 

do  yow  smcrte. 

To   that   Criseyde    answerde   thus 

Foryeve  it  me,  myn  owene  swete 

anoon. 

herte.' 

'  Ne  hadde  I  er  now,  my  swete  herte 
dere,                                     12 10 

170. 

This  Troilus,  with  blisse    of  that 

Ben  yolde,  y-wis  I  were  now    not 

supprysed, 

here ! ' 

Put  al  in  goddes  bond,  as  he  that 

mente                                   11 85 

174. 

0  !  sooth  is  seyd,  that  heled  for  to  be 

288                      TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE. 

BOOK   III.                  [121 3-1262. 

As  of  a  fevre  or  othere  greet  syk- 

Right  so  Criseyde,  whan  hir  drede 

nesse, 

stente. 

Men   moste    drinke,  as   men    may 

Opned    hir  herte,  and    tolde    him 

often  see, 

hir  entente. 

Ful  bittre  drink;     and  for  to  han 

gladnesse,                              1 21 5 

178. 

And    right   as   he  that   seeth    his 

Men    drinken    often    peyne     and 

deeth  y-shapen,                   1240 

greet  distresse  ; 

And  deye  moot,  in  ought  that  he 

I   mene  it  here,  as  for  this  aven- 

may  gesse. 

ture. 

And  sodeynly    rescous    doth    him 

Thatthourgh  a  peyne  hath  founden 

escapen, 

al  his  cure. 

And  from  his  deeth  is  brought  in 
sikernesse, 

175.    And  now   swetnesse  semeth  more 

For  al  this  world,  in  swich  present 

swete. 

gladnesse 

That   bitternesse    assayed   was  hi- 

Was   Troilus,    and    hath    his   lady 

forn  ;                                    1220 

swete;                                     1245 

For  out  of  wo  in  bhsse  now  they 

With  worse  hap  god  lat  us  never 

flete. 

mete! 

Non   swich   they   felten,  sith    they 

were  born  ; 

179. 

Hir  armes  smale,  hir  streyghte  bak 

Now  is  this  bet,  than  bothe  two  be 

and  softe. 

lorn! 

Hir   sydes   longe,  fleshly,  smothe, 

For  love  of  god,  take  every  wom- 

and  whyte 

man  hede 

He  gan  to  stroke,  and  good  thrift 

To  werken  thus,  if  it  comth  to  the 

bad  ful  ofte 

nede.                                    1225 

Hir    snowish    throte,    hir    brestes 
rounde  and  lyte;                  1250 

176.    Criseyde,  al  quit  from  every  drede 

Thus  in  this  hevene  he  gan  him  to 

and  tene. 

delyte, 

As  she  that  iuste  cause  hadde  him 

And  ther-with-al  a  thousand  tyme 

to  triste. 

hir  kiste; 

Made  him  swich  feste,  it  loye  was 

That,  what  to  done,  for  loye  un- 

to  sene, 

nethe  he  wiste. 

Whan   she    his  trouthe  and  clene 

entente  wiste. 

180. 

Than  seyde  he  thus,  'O,  Love,  0, 

And  as  aboute  a  tree,  with  many  a 

Charitee, 

twiste,                                  1 230 

Thy     moder     eek,     Citherea     the 

Bitrent  and  wryth  the  sote  wode- 

swete,                                   1255 

binde. 

After  thy-self  next  heried  be  she. 

Gan    eche  of  hem  in  armes  other 

Venus     mene     I,     the     wel-willy 

winde. 

planete; 
And   next   that,   Imeneus,   I   thee 

177.    And  as  the  newe  abaysshed  night- 

grete; 

ingale, 

For  never  man  was  to  yow  goddes 

That  stinteth  first  whan  she  bigin- 

holde 

neth  singe. 

As  I,  which   ye  han   brought  fro 

Whan  that  she    hereth  any  herde 

cares  colde.                          1260 

tale,                                      1235 

Or  in  the  hegges  any  wight  ster- 

181. 

Benigne  Love,  thou  holy  bond  of 

inge, 

thinges. 

And  after  siker  dooth  hir  voys  out- 

Who-so  wol   grace,  and   list  thee 

ringe  ; 

nought  honouren, 

1263-1315-] 


TKOILUS  AND   CRISEVDE.     BOOK   III. 


289 


Lo,  his  desyr  wol   flee  with-outcn 

winges. 
For,    noldestovv    of    bountoe    hcni 

socouren 
That  serven  best   and   most  alwey 

labouren,  i 265 

Yet  were   al  lost,  that  dar   I    wcl 

seyn,  certes, 
But-if  thy  grace  passed  our  desertes. 

182.  And  for  thou  me,  that  coude  leest 

deserve 

Of  hem  that  nombred  been  un-to 
thy  grace, 

Hast  holpen,  ther  I  lykly  was  to 
sterve,  1270 

And  me  bistowed  in  so  heygh  a 
place 

That  thilke  boundes  may  no  blisse 
pace, 

I  can  no  more,  but  laude  and  rev- 
erence 

Be  to  thy  bounte  and  thyn  excel- 
lence ! ' 

183.  And  therwith-al  Criseyde  anoon  he 

kiste,  1275 

Of  which,  certeyn,  she  felte  no  dis- 

ese. 
And   thus   seyde   he,  '  now  wolde 

god  I  wiste, 
Myn  herte  swete,  how  I  yow  mighte 

plese ! 
What   man,'    quod  he,  '  was   ever 

thus  at  ese 
As  I,  on  whiche  the  faireste   and 

the  beste  1280 

That  ever  I  say,  deyneth  hir  herte 

reste. 

184.  Here  may  men    seen   that    mercy 

passeth  right; 

The  experience  of  that  is  felt  in 
me, 

That  am  unworthy  to  so  swete  a 
wight. 

But  herte  myn,  of  ytmr  Ijenignitee, 

So  thenketh,  though  that  I  un- 
worthy be,  1286 

Yet  mot  I  nede  amenden  in  som 
wyse, 

Right   thourgh    the   vertu   of  your 
heyghe  servyse. 
U 


185.  And  for  the  love  of  god,  my  lady 

dere, 
Sin  god  hath  wrought  me  for  I  shal 

yow  serve,  1290 

As  thus  I  mene,  that  ye  wol  be  my 

stere, 
To  do  me  live,  if  that  yow  liste,  or 

sterve. 
So  techeth  me  how  thai  I  may  de- 
serve 
Your  thank,  so  that  I,  thurgh  myn 

ignoraunce, 
Ne  do  no-thing  that  yow  be  dis- 

plesaunce.  1295 

186.  For   certes,    fresshe    wommanliche 

wyf. 
This  dar  I  seye,  that  trouthe  and 

diligence. 
That  shal  ye  finden  in  me  al  my  lyf, 
Ne  I  wol  not,  certeyn,  breken  your 

defence; 
And  if  I  do,  present  or  in  absence. 
For  love  of  god,  lat  slee  me  with 

the  dede,  1301 

If  that  it  lyke  un-to  your  woman- 

hede.' 

187.  '  Y-vvis,'    quod    she,    'myn    owne 

hertes  list. 
My  ground  of  ese,  and  al  myn  herte 

dere, 
Graunt  mercy,  for  on  that  is  al  my 

trist;  1305 

But    late    us   falle    awey   fro    this 

matere; 
For  it  suftyseth,  this  that  seyd  is 

here. 
And  at  o  word,  with-outen  repcnt- 

aunce, 
Wel-come,  my  knight,  my  pees,  my 

suffisaunce ! '  1309 

188.  Of  hir  delyt,  or  loyes  oon  the  leste 
Were  impossilile  to  my  wit  to  seye; 
But  iuggeth,   ye  that  han  ben  at 

the  feste 
Of  swich   gladnesse,   if  that   hem 

liste  pleye ! 
I  can  no  more,  but  thus  thise  ilke 

twcye 
That    night,   bc-twixen   dreed    and 

sikernesse,  '3'5 


290 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[1316-1369. 


Felten   in   love   the   grete  worthi- 

Clippe  ich  yow  thus,  or  elles  I  it 

nesse. 

mete?' 

189.    0  blisful   night,  of  hem  so  longe 

193.    And,  lord  !  so  he  gan  goodly  on  hir 

y-sought, 

see,                                       1345 

How  blithe  un-to  hem  bothe  two 

That  never  his  look  ne  bleynte  from 

thou  were ! 

hir  face. 

Why  ne  hadde  I  swich  on  with  my 

And  seyde,  '  0  dere  herte,  may  it 

soule  y-bought, 

be 

Ye,  or  the   leeste    loye   that  was 

That  it  be  sooth,  that  ye  ben  in 

there?                                    1 320 

this  place  ? ' 

A-wey,    thou    foule    daunger    and 

'  Ye,  herte  myn,  god  thank  I  of  his 

thou  fere, 

grace ! ' 

And  lat  hem  in  this  hevene  blisse 

Quod  tho  Criseyde,  and  therwith-al 

dwelle. 

him  kiste,                             1350 

That  is  so  heygh,  that  al  ne  can  I 

That  where  his  spirit  was,  for  loye 

telle ! 

he  niste. 

190.    But   sooth    is,   though   I   can   not 

194.    This  Troilus  ful  ofte  hir  eyen  two 

tellen  al. 

Gan  for  to  kisse,  and   seyde,  '  O 

As  can  myn  auctor,  of  his  excel- 

eyen clere. 

lence,                                   1325 

It  were  ye  that  wroughte  me  swich 

Yet  have  I  seyd,  and,  god  to-forn. 

wo. 

Ishal 

Ye  humble  nettes  of  my  lady  dere  ! 

In  every  thing  al  hooUy  his  sen- 

Though  ther  be  mercy  writen  in 

tence. 

your  chere,                          '356 

And  if  that  I,  at  loves  reverence. 

God  wot,  the  text  ful  hard  is,  sooth, 

Have  any  word  in  eched  for  the 

to  finde. 

beste, 

How  coude  ye  with-outen  bond  me 

Doth    therwith-al    right    as    your- 

binde?' 

selven  leste.                         1330 

195.   Therwith  he  gan  hir  faste  in  armes 

191.    For  myne  wordes,  here  and  every 

take. 

part, 

And  wel  an  hundred  tymes.  gan  he 

I  speke  hem  alle  under  correccioun 

syke,                                     1360 

Of  yow,  that  feling  han  in  loves  art. 

Nought   swiche    sorwful    sykes   as 

And  putte  it  al  in  your  discrecioun 

men  make 

To  encrese  or  maken  diminucioun 

For  wo,  or  elles  whan  that  folk  ben 

Of  my  langage,  and  that  I  yow  bi- 

syke. 

seche;                                   1336 

But  esy  sykes,  swiche  as  been  to 

But  now  to  purpos  of  my  rather 

lyke, 

speche. 

That  shewed  his  affeccioun  with- 

192.    Thise  ilke  two,  that  ben  in  armes  laft, 

inne; 
Of  swiche  sykes  coude  he  nought 

So  looth  to  hem  a-sonder  goon  it 

bilinne.                                 1365 

were. 
That  ech  from  other  wende  been 

196.    Sone  after  this  they  speke  of  sondry 

biraft,                                     1340 

thinges, 

Or  elles,  lo,  this  was  hir  moste  fere, 

As  fil  to  purpos  of  this  aventure, 

That  al  this  thing  but  nyce  dremes 

And  pleyinge  entrechaungeden  hir 

were ; 

ringes, 

For   which   ful   ofte   ech   of   hem 

Of  which   I  can  nought  tellen    no 

seyde,  '  0  swete, 

scripture; 

I370-I42I.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


291 


But  vvel  I  woot  a  broche,  gold  and 

Tho  gonne  they  to  spoken  and  to 

asure,                                    '37° 

pleye. 

In  whiche  a  ruby  set  was  lyk  an 

And  eek  rehercen  how,  and  whanne, 

herte. 

and  where. 

Criseyde   him   yaf,  and   stak  it  on 

They  knewe   hem  first,  and  every 

his  sherte. 

wo  and  fere 

That    passed    was;     but    al   swich 

197.    Lord !    trowe    ye,   a    coveitous,  a 

hevinesse. 

wrecche, 

I   thanke    it   god,  was  tourned  to 

That  blameth  love  and  holt    of  it 

gladnesse.                           1400 

despyt, 

That,  of  tho  pens  that  he  can  mokre 

201.    And  ever-mo,  whan  that  hem    fel 

and  kecche,                          1375 

to  speke 

Was  ever  yet   y-yeve   him    swich 

Of    any  thing    of  swich    a    tyme 

delyt. 

agoon, 

As  is  in  love,  in  00  poynt,  in  som 

With    kissing  al  that   tale   sholde 

plyt? 

breke, 

Nay,  doutelees,  for  also  god  me  save. 

And  fallen  in  a  newe  Toye  anoon, 

So  parfit  loye  may  no  nigard  have  ! 

And  diden  al  hir  might,  sin  they 

wereoon,                             1405 

198.    They   wol   sey  '  yis,'  but  lord !  so 

For  to  recoveren  blisse  and  been  at 

that  they  lye,                       1380 

ese. 

Tho  bisy  wrecches,  ful  of  wo  and 

And  passed  wo  with  loye  countre- 

drede ! 

peyse. 

They  callen   love  a  woodnesse  or 

folye. 

202.    Reson   wil   not   that    I    speke    of 

But  it  shal  falle  hem  as  I  shal  yow 

sleep, 

rede; 

For   it   accordeth    nought   to    my 

They    shul    forgo   the   whyte   and 

matere ; 

eke  the  rede. 

God   woot,  they  toke  of  that    ful 

And  live  in  wo,  ther  god  yeve  hem 

litel  keep,                             1410 

mischaunce,                         1385 

But  lest  this  night,  that  was  to  hem 

And    every    lover    in    his   trouthe 

so  dere. 

avaunce ! 

Ne  sholde  in   veyn  escape   in  no 

manere, 

199.    As  wolde  god,  tho  wrecches,  that 

It   was   biset    in    loye    and    bisi- 

dispyse 

nesse 

Servyse   of  love,  hadde  eres  al-so 

Of  al   that   souneth   in-to    gentil- 

longe 

nesse. 

As  hadde  Myda,  ful  of  coveityse ; 

And  ther-to  dronken  hadde  as  hoot 

203.     But  whan  the  cok,  comune  astrol- 

and stronge                           1390 

oger,                                     141 5 

As    Crassus    dide    for    his    affectis 

Gan  on  his  brest  to  bete,  and  after 

wronge, 

crowe, 

To   techen  hem   that  they  ben  in 

And   Lucifer,  the  dayes  messager, 

the  vyce. 

Gan  for  to  ryse,  and  out  hir  hemes 

And  loveres  nought,  al-though  they 

throwe; 

holde  hem  nyce ! 

And    estward   roos,    to    him    that 

coude  it  knowe. 

200.    Thise  ilke  two,  of  whom  that  I  yow 

Fortutia     maior^     [than]      anoon 

seye. 

Criseyde,                              1420 

Whan  that  hir  hertes  wel  assured 

With    herte   sore,  to   Troilus  thus 

were                                        1395 

seyde :  — 

292 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[1422-1472. 


204.  '  Myn  hertes  lyf,  my  trist  and  my 

plesaunce, 
That  I  was  born,  alias  !  what  me  is 

wo, 
That  day  of  us  mot  make  dessever- 

aunce  ! 
For  tyme  it  is  to  ryse,  and  hennes 

go,  1425 

Or  elles  I  am  lost  for  evermo  ! 
O  night,  alias !  why  niltow  over  us 

hove. 
As  longe  as  whanne  Almena  lay  by 

love? 

205.  O  blake   night,  as  folk   in  bokes 

rede, 
That  shapen  art  by  god  this  world 

to  hyde  1430 

At  certeyn  tymes  with  thy  derke 

wede, 
That  under  that  men  mighte  in  reste 

abyde, 
Wei  oughte  bestes  pleyne,  and  folk 

thee  chyde, 
That  there-as  day  with  labour  wolde 

us  breste, 
That  thou  thus  fleest,  and  deynest 

us  nought  reste  !  1435 

206.  Thou  dost,  alias!  to  shortly  thyn 

offyce, 
Thou  rakel  night,  ther  god,  makere 

of  kinde. 
Thee,  for  thyn  hast  and  thyn  un- 

kinde  vyce, 
So  faste  ay  to  our  hemi-spere  binde, 
That  never-more  under  the  ground 

thou  winde !  1440 

For  now,  for  thou  so  hyest  out  of 

Troye, 
Have    I    forgon    thus   hastily   my 

loye ! ' 

207.  This  Troilus,  that  with  tho  wordes 

felte. 
As  thoughte  him  tho,  for  pietous 

distresse. 
The   blody   teres    from    his   herte 

melte,  1445 

As  he  that  never  yet  swich  hevi- 

nesse 
Assayed   hadde,   out    of    so   greet 

gladnesse. 


Gan  therwith-al  Criseyde  his  lady 

dere 
In  amies  streyne,  and  seyde  in  this 

man  ere :  — 

208.  '  O  cruel  day,  accusour  of  the  loye 
That  night  and  love  han  stole  and 

faste  y-wryen,  145 1 

A-cursed     be     thy    coming    in-to 

Troye, 
For   every  bore   hath   con  of  thy 

bright  yen  ! 
Envyous  day,  what  list  thee  so  to 

spyen? 
What   hastow  lost,  why   sekestow 

this  place,  "455 

Ther  god  thy  lyght  so  quenche,  for 

his  grace? 

209.  Alias !  what  han  thise  loveres  thee 

agilt, 
Dispitous  day?  thyn  be  the  pyne 

of  helle ! 
For  many  a  lovere  hastow  shent, 

and  wilt; 
Thy   pouring  in  wol  no-wher  lete 

hem  dwelle.  1460 

What  proferestow  thy  light  here  for 

to  selle? 
Go  selle  it  hem  that,  smale   seles 

graven, 
We  wol  thee  nought,  us  nedeth  no 

day  haven.' 

210.  And  eek  the  Sonne  Tytan  gan  he 

chyde, 
And  seyde, '  O  fool,  wel  may  men 

thee  dispyse.  1465 

That  hast  the  Dawing  al  night  by 

thy  syde, 
And  suffrest  hir  so  sone  up  fro  thee 

ryse, 
For    to    disesen    loveres    in    this 

wyse. 
What!  hold  your  bed  ther,  thou, 

and  eek  thy  Morwe  ! 
I  bidde  god,  so   yeve  yow  bothe 

sorwe ! '  147° 

211.  Therwith   ful  sore  he  sighte,  and 

thus  he  seyde, 
'  My  lady  right,  and  of  my  wele  or 
wo 


I473-I525-] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.    BOOK  III. 


293 


The  vvelle  and  rote,  O  goodly  niyn, 

Criseyde, 
And  shal  I  ryse,  alias !  and  shal  I 

go? 
Now  fele  I  that  myn  herte  moot 

a-two !  1475 

For  how  sholde  I  my  lyf  an  houre 

save, 
Sin  that  with  yow  is  al  the  lyf  I 

have? 

212.  What  shal  I  doon,  for  certes,  I  not 

how, 
Ne  whanne,  alias  !  I  shal  the  tyme 

see, 
That  in  this  plyt  I  may  be  eft  with 

yow;  1480 

And   of    my   lyf,   god   vvoot,   how 

that  shal  be. 
Sin  that  desyr  right  now  so  byteth 

me, 
That  I  am  deed  anoon,  but  I  re- 

tourne. 
How  sholde  I  longe,  alias !  fro  yow 

soiourne? 

213.  But    nathelees,   myn    owene    lady 

bright,  1485 

Yit   were    it   so   that   I   wiste  ou- 

trely. 
That  I,  your  humble  servaunt  and 

your  knight, 
Were  in  your  herte  set  so  fermely 
As   ye  in   myn,  the   which   thing, 

trewely, 
Me  lever  were  than  thise  worldes 

tweyne,  1490 

Yet  sholde   I  bet  enduren   al   my 

peyne.' 

214.  To  that  Cryseyde  answerde  right 

anoon. 
And  with  a  syk  she  seyde, '  O  herte 

dere, 
The  game,  y-wis,  so  ferforth  now  is 

goon, 
That  first  shal  Phebus  falle  fro  his 

spere,  1495 

And  every  egle  been  the  dowves 

fere, 
And  every  roche  out  of  his  place 

sterte, 
Er  Troilus  out  of  Criseydcs  herte  ! 


215.  Ye  be  so  depe  in-with  myn  herte 

grave, 
That,  though  I  vvolde  it  turne  out 

of  my  thought,  1 500 

As  wisly  verray  god  my  soule  save, 
To   dyen    in   the    peyne,   1    coude 

nought ! 
And,  for  the  love  of  god  that  us 

hath  wrought, 
Lat  in  your  brayn  non  other  fan- 

tasye 
So  crepe,  that  it  cause  me  to  dye ! 

216.  And  that  ye  me  wolde  han  as  faste 

in  minde  1506 

As  I  have  yow,  that  wolde  I  yow 

bi-seche; 
And,  if  I  wiste  soothly  that  to  finde, 
God  mighte  not  a  poynt  my  loyes 

eche ! 
But,   herte   myn,   with-oute    more 

speche,  15 10 

Beth  to  me  trewe,  or  elles  were  it 

routhe; 
For  I  am  thyn,  by  god  and  by  my 

trouthe ! 

217.  Beth  glad  for-thy,  and  live  in  sik- 

ernesse; 
Thus  seyde  I  never  er  this,  ne  shal 

to  mo; 
And  if  to  yow  it  were  a  gret  glad- 

nesse  1515 

To  turne  ayein,  soone  after  that  ye 

go, 
As  fayn  wolde  I  as  ye,  it  were  so. 
As  wisly  god  myn  herte  bringe  at 

reste ! ' 
And  him  in  armes  took,  and  ofte 

keste. 

218.  Agayns  his  wil,  sin  it  mot  nedes 

be,  1 5  20 

This  Troilus  up  roos,  and  faste  him 

cledde. 
And   in    his   armes   took  his  lady 

free 
An  hundred  tyme,  and  on  his  wey 

him  spedde, 
And  with  swich  wordes  as  his  herte 

bledde, 
He  seyde,  '  farewel,  my  dere  herte 

swete,  1525 


294 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[1526-1576. 


Ther  god  us  graunte  sounde  and 
sone  to  mete  ! ' 

219.  To  which  no  word  for  sorwe  she 

answerde, 
So   sore   gan   his   parting   hir  de- 
,  streyne; 

And  Troilus  un-to  his  palays  ferde. 
As  woo  bigon  as  she  was,  sooth  to 

seyne;  '530 

So  hard  him  wrong  of  sharp  desyr 

the  peyne 
For  to  ben  eft  there  he  was  in  ples- 

aunce, 
That  it  may  never  out  of  his  remem- 

braunce. 

220.  Retorned  to  his  real  palais,  sone 
He  softe  in-to  his  bed  gan  for  to 

slinke,  1535 

To  slepe  longe,  as  he  was  wont  to 
done, 

But  al  for  nought;  he  may  wel 
ligge  and  winke, 

But  sleep  ne  may  ther  in  his  herte 
sinke; 

Thenkinge  how  she,  for  whom  de- 
syr him  brende, 

A  thousand-fold  was  worth  more 
than  he  wende.  1540 

221.  And   in  his  thought  gan  up   and 

doun  to  winde  ' 

Hir  wordes  alle,  and  every  conte- 

naunce, 
And     fermely     impressen    in     his 

minde 
The  leste  poynt  that  to  him  was 

plesaunce; 
And  verrayliche,  of  thilke  remem- 

braunce,  1545 

Desyr  al  newe  him  brende,  and  lust 

to  brede 
Gan  more  than  erst,  and  yet  took 

he  none  hede. 

222.  Criseyde  also,  right   in   the   same 

wyse, 
Of  Troilus  gan  in  hir  herte  shette 
His  worthinesse,  his  lust,  his  dedes 

wyse,  1550 

His  gentilesse,  and  how  she  with 

him  mette. 


Thonkinge  love  he  so  wel  hir  bi- 

sette; 
Desyring  eft  to  have  hir  herte  dere 
In  swich  a  plyt,  she  dorste  make 

him  chere. 

223.  Pandare,  a-morwe  which  that   co- 

men  was  1555 

Un-to  his  nece,  and  gan  hir  fayre 

grete, 
Seyde,  'al   this    night    so    reyned 

it,  alias ! 
That  al  my  drede  is  that  ye,  nece 

swete, 
Han  litel  layser  had  to  slepe  and 

mete  ; 
Al  night,'  quod  he,  '  hath  reyn  so 

do  me  wake,  1560 

That  som  of  us,  I  trowe,  hir  hedes 

ake.' 

224.  And  ner  he  com,  and  seyde,  '  how 

stont  it  now 
This   mery  morwe,  nece,  how  can 

ye  fare  ? ' 
Criseyde  answerde,  '  never  the  bet 

for  yow. 
Fox  that  ye  been,  god  yeve   your 

herte  care !  1565 

God   helpe   me   so,   ye   caused   al 

this  fare, 
Trow  I,'  quod    she,  '  for  alle  your 

wordes  whyte  ; 
O !  who-so  seeth  yow  knoweth  yow 

ful  lyte ! ' 

225.  With  that  she  gan  hir  face  for  to 

wrye 
With  the  shete,  and  wex  for  shame 

al  reed  ;  1570 

And   Pandarus  gan   under  for    to 

prye, 
And  seyde, '  nece,  if  that  I  shal  ben 

deed, 
Have  here  a  swerd,  and  smyteth 

of  myn  heed.' 
With  that  his  arm  al  sodeynly  he 

thriste 
Under  hir  nekke,  and  at  the  laste 

hir  kiste.  1575 

226.  I    passe   al    that    which    chargeth 

nought  to  seye, 


1 5  77-1 628.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


295 


What !    Clod   foryaf  his  decth,  and 

230. 

The  Sonne,  which  that  al  the  world 

she  al-so 

may  see. 

Foryaf,  and  with  liir  uncle  gan  to 

Saw  never  yet,  my  lyf,  that  dar  I 

plcye, 

leye,                                        1605 

For    other    cause   was   ther    noon 

So    inly    fair    and    goodly    as    is 

than  so. 

she, 

But  of  this  thing  right  to  the  effect 

Whos  I  am  al,  and  shal,  til  that  I 

to  go,                                    15  So 

deye  ; 

Whan  tyme  was,  hom  til  hir  hous 

And,  that  I  thus   am  hires,  dar  I 

she  wente. 

seye. 

And    Pandarus  hath  fully  his   en- 

That thanked  be  the  heighe  worth- 

tente. 

inesse 
Of  love,  and   eek  thy  kinde  bisi- 

227.    Now  tome  we  ayein  to  Troilus, 

nesse.                                     1610 

That   resteles    ful    longe    a-bedde 

lay, 

231- 

Thus    hastow    me    no    litel    thing 

And   prevely    sente    after    Panda- 

y-yive. 

rus,                                        1585 

Fo   which  to  thee  obliged   be  for 

To  him  to  come  in  al  the  haste  he 

ay 

may. 

My    lyf,  and    why  ?    for    thorugh 

He  com  anoon,  nought  ones  seyde 

thyn  help  I  live; 

he  '  nay,' 

For    elles  deed    hadde  I    be  many 

And  Troilus  ful  soberly  he  grette, 

a  day.' 

And    doun  upon    his  beddes   syde 

And  with   that    word   doun  in  his 

him  sette. 

bed  he  lay,                            161 5 
And    Pandarus    ful    sobrely     him 

22S.    This   Troilus,    with    al    the   affec- 

herde 

cioun                                      1590 

Til    al   was   seyd,  and    thanne  he 

Of   frendes    love   that   herte    may 

him  answerde  : 

devyse. 

To  Pandarus  on  knees  fil  adoun, 

232. 

'  My  dere  frend,  if  I  have  doon  for 

And  er  that  he  wolde  of  the  place 

thee 

aryse, 

In   any   cas,   god    wot,   it    is    me 

He  gan  him  thonken  in  his  beste 

leef; 

wyse  ; 

And    am    as   glad  as  man  may  of 

A  hondred  sythe  he  gan  the  tyme 

it  be,                                       1620 

blesse,                                     1595 

God  help  me  so  ;   but  tak  now  not 

That  he   was  born    to  bringe  him 

a-greef 

fro  distresse. 

That    I  shal  seyn,  be  war  of  this 
mysclieef. 

229.    Pie  seyde,  '  0  frend,  of  frendes  the 

That,  there-as    thou    now   brought 

alderbeste 

art  in-to  blisse. 

That    ever   was,   the   sothe  for   to 

That    thou    thy-self    ne    cause   it 

telle, 

nought  to  misse. 

Thou  hast  in  hevene  y-brought  my 

soule  at  reste 

233- 

For    of    fortunes    sharp    adversi- 

Fro    Flegiton,  the    fery    flood    of 

tee                                         1625 

helle  ;                                   1600 

The    worst   kinde   of  infortune   is 

That,  though  I  mighte  a  thousand 

this, 

tymes  selle, 

A    man    to  have  ben  in  prosperi- 

Upon  a  day,  my  lyf  in  thy  servyse, 

tee. 

It    mighte  nought  a  mote  in  that 

And  it  remembren,  when  it  passed 

surtyse. 

is. 

296 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYUE.     BOOK   III. 


[1629- 1 680. 


Thou  art  wys  y-nough,  for-thy  do 

Ye,  al    another    than    I    dide    er 

nought  amis ; 

this.'                                       1655 

Be  not  to  rakel,  though  thou  sitte 

Pandare  answerde,  and  seyde  thus. 

warme,                                   1630 

that  he 

For  if  thou  be,  certeyn,  it  wol  thee 

That    ones  may   in   hevene   blisse 

harme. 

be. 

He    feleth    other     weyes,    dar    I 

234.    Thou  art   at   ese,  and    holde  thee 

leye. 

wel  ther-inne. 

Than  thilke  tyme  he  first  herde  of 

For  also  seur  as  reed  is  every  fyr, 

it  seye. 

As  greet   a    craft   is    kepe  wel  as 

winne  ; 

238,    This  is  0  word  for  al ;    this  Troi- 

Brydle alwey  wel  thy  speche  and 

lus                                         1660 

thy  desyr.                              1635 

Was   never   ful,  to   speke   of  this 

For  worldly  loye  halt  not  but  by  a 

matere. 

wyr  ; 

And  for  to  preysen  un-to  Pandarus 

That  preveth  wel,  it  brest  alday  so 

The    bountee   of    his   righte   lady 

ofte  ; 

dere, 

For-thy   nede   is  to  werke  with  it 

And    Pandarus     to     thanke    and 

softe.' 

maken  chere. 

This    tale    ay    was   span-newe   to 

235.    Quod  Troilus,  *  I  hope,  and  god  to- 

biginne                                 1665 

forn, 

Til   that   the   night  departed  hem 

My  dere  frend,  that  I  shal  so  me 

a-twinne. 

bere,                                     1640 

That  in  my  gilt  ther  shal  no  thing 

239.    Sone  after  this,  for  that  fortune  it 

be  lorn, 

wolde, 

Ne  I  nil  not  rakle  as  for  to  greven 

I-comen  was  the  blisful  tyme  swete, 

here  ; 

That  Troilus   was  warned  that  he 

It    nedeth    not    this    matere   ofte 

sholde. 

tere  ; 

Ther  he  was  erst,  Criseyde  his  lady 

For  wistestow  myn  herte  wel  Pan- 

mete ;                                   1670 

dare, 

For  which  he  felte  his  herte  in  loye 

God   woot,    of  this   thou    woldest 

flete; 

litel  care.'                             1645 

And  feythfuUy  gan  alle  the  goddes 

herie  ; 
And  lat  see  now  if  that  he  can  be 

236.    Tho  gan  he  telle  him  of  his  glade 

night. 

merie. 

And  wher-of  first  his  herte  dredde, 

and  how, 

240.    And  holden  was  the  forme  and  al 

And  seyde,  '  freend,  as  I  am  trewe 

the  wyse, 

knight. 

Of  hir   cominge,  and   eek   of  his 

And  by  that  feyth  I   shal   to  god 

also,                                      1675 

and  yow. 

As    it    was     erst,    which     nedeth 

I  hadde  it   never  half  so  bote  as 

nought  devyse. 

now ;                                      1650 

But  playnly  to  the  effect  right  for 

And  ay  the   more  that  desyr   me 

to  go. 

byteth 

In  loye  and  seurte  Pandarus  hem 

To  love  hir  best,  the  more  it   me 

two 

delyteth. 

A-bedde     broughte,     whan      hem 

bothe    leste. 

237.    I  noot  my-self  not  wisly  what  it  is  ; 

And  thus  they  ben  in  quiete  and 

But  now  I  fele  a  newe  qualitee. 

in  reste.                               1680 

I68I-I73I-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


297 


241.    Nought  netleth  it  to  yow,  sin  they 

That  maketh  it  so  sone  day  to  be; 

ben  met, 

And,    for    the   Sonne    him   hasteth 

To  aske  at  me  if  that  they  blythe 

thus  to  ryse. 

were ; 

Ne  shal  I  never  doon  him  sacri- 

For  if  it  erst  was  wel,  tho  was  it 

fyse ! ' 

bet 

A  thousand-fold,  this  nedeth  not 

245- 

But  nedes  day  departe  moste  hem 

enquere. 

sone, 

A-gon  was  every  sorwe  and  every 

And  whanne  hir  speche  doon  was 

fere;                                      16S5 

and  hir  chere,                      1710 

And  bothe,  y-wis,  they  hadde,  and 

They  twinne  anoon  as  they  were 

so  they  wende, 

wont  to  done. 

As  muche  loye  as  herte  may  com- 

And    setten    tyme   of    meting    eft 

prende. 

y-fere; 
And  many  a  night  they  wroughte 

242.    This   is   no   Htel    thing   of  for   to 

in  this  manere. 

seye, 

And  thus  Fortune  a  tyme  ladde  in 

This  passeth  every  wit  for  to  de- 

loye 

vyse; 

Criseyde,  and  eek  this  kinges  sone 

For  eche  of  hem  gan  otheres  lust 

ofTroye.                             1715 

obeye;                                  1690 

Felicitee,  which  that  thise  clerkes 

246. 

In   suffisaunce,    in   blisse,   and    in 

wyse 

singinges. 

Commenden  so,  ne  may  not  here 

This  Troilus  gan  al  his  lyf  to  lede  ; 

suffyse. 

He  spendeth,  lusteth,  maketh  fes- 

This    loye   may   not   writen    been 

teyinges; 

with  inke, 

He  yeveth  frely  ofte,  and  chaungeth 

This   passeth    al    that   herte    may 

wede. 

bithinke. 

And  held  aboute  him  alvvey,  out  of 
drede,                                   1720 

243.    But    cruel    day,   so    wel-awey   the 

A  world  of  folk,  as  cam  him  wel  of 

stounde !                               1695 

kinde, 

Gan   for   to    aproche,   as   they   by 

The  fressheste    and   the   beste  he 

signes  knewe, 

coude  fynde; 

For    whiche    hem    thoughte    felen 

dethes  wounde; 

247. 

That  swich  a  voys  was  of  hym  and 

So  wo  was  hem,  that  changen  gan 

a  stevene 

hir  hewe. 

Thorugh-out  the  world,  of  honour 

And  day  they  gonnen  to  dispyse  al 

and  largesse. 

newe, 

That  it  up  rong  un-to  the  yate  of 

Calling   it   traytour,    envyous,   and 

hevene.                                 1725 

worse,                                   1 700 

And,  as  in  love,  he  was  in  swich 

And  bitterly  the  dayes  light  they 

gladnesse, 

curse. 

That  in  his  herte  he  demede,  as  I 
gesse. 

244.    Quod   Troilus,  '  alias !   now  am   I 

That  there  nis  lovere  m  this  world 

war 

at  ese 

That  Pirous  and  tho  swifte  stedes 

So  wel  as  he,  and  thus  gan  love 

three, 

him  plese. 

Whiche    that    drawen    forth    the 

sonnes  char, 

248. 

The  godlihede   or  beautee   which 

Han  goon  som  by-path  in  despyt 

that  kinde                              1730 

of  me;                                   1705 

In  any  other  lady  hadde  y-set 

298 


TROILUS    AND    CRISEYDE.     BOOK   III. 


[1 732-1 783. 


Can  not  the  mountaunce  of  a  knot 

unbinde, 
A-boute  his  herte,  of  al  Criseydes 

net. 
Pie  was  so    narwe   y-masked   and 

y-knet, 
That  it  undon  on  any  manere  syde, 
That  nil  not  been,  for  ought  that 

may  betyde.  1736 

249.  And  by  the  hond  ful  ofte  he  wolde 

take 
This   Pandarus,   and   in-to   gardin 

ledc, 
And   swich   a   feste    and  swich   a 

proces  make 
Him    of    Criseyde,    and     of    hir 

womanhede,  1740 

And    of   hir    beautee,    that,   with- 

outen  drede, 
It  was  an  hevene  his  wordes  for  to 

here; 
And  thanne  he  wolde  singe  in  this 

manere. 

250.  '  Love,  that  of  erthe  and  see  hath 

governaunce, 
Love,  that  his  hestes  hath  in  hevene 

hye,  1745 

Love,   that   with    an   holsom   alli- 

aunce 
Halt    peples    ioyned,    as   him   list 

hem  gye, 
Love,  that  knetteth  lawe  of  com- 

panye, 
And  couples  doth  in  vertu  for  to 

dvvelle, 
Bind  this  acord,  that  I  have  told 

and  telle;  1750 

251.  That   that   the   world   with    feyth, 

which  that  is  stable, 
Dyverseth  so  his  stoundes  concord- 

inge. 
That   elements   that   been  so  dis- 

cordable 
Holden  a  bond  perpetuely  duringe. 
That    Phebus   mote   his    rosy   day 

forth  bringe,  1755 

And  that  the  mone  hath  lordship 

over  the  nightes, 
Al  this  doth   Love;    ay  heried  be 

his  mightes ! 


252.  That  that  the  see,  that  gredy  is  to 

flowen, 
Constreyneth  to  a  certeyn  ende  so 
His  flodes,  that  so  fersly  they  ne 

growen  1760 

To    drenchen    erthe    and    al    for 

ever-mo; 
And  if  that  Love   ought   lete  his 

brydel  go, 
Al  that  now  loveth  a-sonder  sholde 

lepe. 
And  lost  were  al,  that   Love  halt 

now  to-hepe. 

253.  So   wolde   god,  that   auctor  is   of 

kinde,  1765 

That,  with  his  bond,  Love  of  his 

vertu  liste 
To  cerclen   hertes  alle,  and  faste 

binde. 
That  from  his  bond  no  wight  the 

wey  out  wiste. 
And  hertes  colde,  hem  wolde  I  that 

he  twiste 
To  make  hem  love,  and  that  hem 

leste  ay  rewe  ^770 

On  hertes  sore,  and  kepe  hem  that 

ben  trewe.' 

254.  In    alle    nedes,    for    the     tounes 

werre. 
He  was,  and  ay  the  firste  in  armes 

dight; 
And   certeynly,   but-if  that  bokes 

erre, 
Save   Ector,  most  y-drad   of  any 

wight;  1775 

And  this  encrees  of  hardinesse  and 

might 
Cam  him  of  love,  his  ladies  thank 

to  winne. 
That  altered  his  spirit  so  with-inne. 

255.  In    tyme   of   trewe,   on    haukinge 

wolde  he  ryde. 
Or    elles    hunten    boor,    here,    or 

lyoun;  1 780 

The  smale  bestes  leet  he  gon  bi- 

syde. 
And   whan   that   he   com   rydinge 

in-to  toun, 
Ful  ofte  his  lady,  from  hir  window 

doun, 


1784 

-i82o.    1-8.]       TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV.                        299 

As  fresh  as  faucon  comen  out  of 

Benigne  he  was  to  ech  in  general. 

niuwe, 

For   which    he   gal    him    thank   in 

Ful  rcdy  was,  him  goodly  to  saluwe. 

every  place. 
Thus  wolde  Love,  y-heried  be  his 

256. 

And  most  of  love  and  vertu  was  his 

grace. 

speche,                                   I 7S6 

That  Pryde,  Envye,  Ire,  and  Ava- 

* 

And  in  despyt  hadde  alle  wrecched- 

ryce                                     1805 

nesse; 

He  gan  to   flee,  and  every  other 

And  doutelees,  no  nede  was  him 

vyce. 

biseche 

To    honouren    hem     that    hadde 

259.    Thou  lady  bright,  the  doughter  to 

wortl\inesse, 

Dione, 

And  esen  hem  that  weren  in  dis- 

Thy  blinde  and  winged  sone  eek. 

tresse.                                   1790 

daun  Cupyde; 

And  glad  was  he  if  any  wight  wel 

Ye  sustren  nyne  eek,  that  by  Eli- 

ferde, 

cone                                      1809 

That  lover  was,  whan  he  it  wiste 

In  hil  Parnaso  listen  for  to  abyde, 

or  herde. 

That  ye  thus  fer  han  deyned  me  to 
gyde. 

257- 

For   sooth   to   seyn,  he   lost   held 

I  can  no  more,  but  sin  that  ye  wol 

every  wight 

wende, 

But-if  he  were  in  loves  heigh  ser- 

Ye  heried  been  for  ay,  with-outen 

vyse, 

ende! 

I  mene  folk  that  oughte  it  been  of 

right.                                     1795 

260.    Thourgh  yow  have  I  seyd  fully  in 

And  over  al  this,  so  wel  coude  he 

my  song 

devyse 

Theffect  and  loye  of  Troilus  ser- 

Of  sentement,  and  in  so  unkouth 

vyse,                                      181 5 

wyse 

Al   be    that   ther  was   som   disese 

Al    his    array,    that    every    lover 

among. 

thoughte, 

As  to  myn   auctor   listeth    to   de- 

That al  was  wel,  what-so  he  seyde 

vyse. 

or  wroughte. 

My  thridde  book  now  ende  ich  in 
this  wyse; 

258. 

And  though  that  he  be  come  of 

And     Troilus     in     luste     and     in 

blood  royal,                         1800 

quiete 

Him  liste  of  pryde  at  no  wight  for 

Is  with  Criseyde,  his  owne  herte 

to  chase; 

swete.                                  1820 

Explicit  Liber  Tercius. 


BOOK   IV. 


[Prohemium.] 


I.    But  al  to  litel,  weylawey  the  whyle, 
Lasteth    swich    loye,   y-thonked   be 

Fortune ! 
That  senieth  trewest,  whan  she  wol 

bygyle. 
And    can    to  foles   so    hir   song   en- 
tune. 


That  she  hem  hent  and  blent,  tray- 
tour  comune;  5 

And  whan  a  wight  is  from  hir  wheel 
y-throvve, 

Than  laugheth  she,  and  maketh  him 
the  mowe. 

2.    From   Troilus   she   gan    hir    brighte 
face 


k 


300 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[9-60. 


Awey  to  wrythe,  and  took  of  him  non 

herle, 
But  caste  him  clene  oute  of  his  lady 

grace,  10 

And  on  hir  wheel  she  sette    up  Dio- 

mede; 
For  which  right  now  myn  herte  gin- 

neth  blede, 
And  now  my  penne,  alias  !   with  which 

I  wryte, 
Quaketh  for  drede  of  that  I  moot  en- 

dyte. 

3.  For  how  Criseyde  Troilus  forsook,  15 
Or  at  the  leste,  how  that  she  was  un- 

kinde, 
Mot  hennes-forth  ben  matere  of  my 

book, 
As  wryten  folk  thorugh  which  it  is  in 

minde. 
Alias!    that  they  shulde  ever  cause 

finde 
To  speke  hir  harm;   and  if  they  on  hir 

lye,  20 

Y-wis,   hem-self  sholde  han  the  vil- 

anye. 

4.  O    ye    Herines,   Nightes    doughtren 

three. 
That   endelees   compleynen   ever   in 

pyne, 
Megera,  Alete,  and  eek  Thesiphone; 
Thou  cruel  Mars  eek,  fader  to  Quir- 

yne,  25 

This    ilke    ferthe    book   me   helpeth 

fyne. 
So  that  the  los  of  lyf  and  love  y-fere 
Of  Troilus  be  fully  shewed  here. 

Explicit  \_Pro/iemium.'\ 

Incipit  Quartus  Liber. 

5.  LiGGiNGE  in  ost,  as  I  have  seyd  er 

this. 
The   Grekes   stronge,    aboute   Troye 

toun,  30 

Bifel  that,  whan  that  Phebus  shyning 

is 
Up-on  the  brest  of  Hercules  Lyoun, 
That    Ector,  with   ful   many  a   bold 

baroun, 
Caste   on  a  day  with   Grekes  for  to 

fighte, 


As  he  was  wont  to  greve  hem  what 
he  mighte.  35 

6.  Not  I  how  longe  or  short  it  was  bi- 

twene 
This  purpos  and  that  day  they  fighte 

mente;  » 

But  on  a  day  wel  armed,  bright  and 

shene, 
Ector,  and  many  a  worthy  wight  out 

wente. 
With  spore  in  bond  ^nd  bigge  bowes 

bente;  40 

And   in  the  berd,   with-oute   lenger 

lette, 
Hir   fomen   in   the  feld  anoon  hem 

mette. 

7.  The  longe   day,  with   speres   sharpe 

y-grounde, 
With  arwes,  dartes,  swerdes,  maces 

felle. 
They   fighte   and    bringen   hors   and 

man  to  grounde,  45 

And   with  hir  axes  out   the  braynes 

quelle. 
But  in  the  laste  shour,  sooth  for  to 

telle, 
The  folk  of  Troye  hem-selven  so  mis- 

ledden. 
That  with  the  worse  at  night  hom- 

ward  they  fledden. 

8.  At    whiche    day   was    taken    Ante- 

nor,  50 

Maugre  Polydamas  or  Monesteo, 
Santippe,  Sarpedon,  Polynestor, 
Polyte,  or  eek  the  Troian  daun  Ri- 

pheo, 
And  othere  lasse  folk,  as  Phebuseo. 
So  that,  for  harm,  that  day  the  folk 

of  Troye  *  55 

Dredden  to  lese  a  greet  part  of  hir 

loye. 

9.  Of  Pryamus  was  yeve,  at  Greek  re- 

queste, 
A  tyme  of  trewe,  and  tho  they  gonnen 

trete, 
Hir  prisoneres  to  chaungen,  moste  and 

leste. 
And  for  the  surplus  yeven   sommes 

grete.  60 


6i-iii.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


301 


This  thing  anoon  was  couth  in  every 

Right  no  resport,  to  respect  of  your 

strete. 

ese. 

Bothe    in    thassege,    in   toune,    and 

Thus  al  my  good  I  loste  and  to  yow 

every-where, 

wente. 

And  with  the  lirste  it  cam  to  Calkas 

Wening  in  this  you,  lordes,  for  to 

ere. 

plese. 

But  al  that  los  ne  doth  me  no  dis- 

10.    Whan  Calkas  knew  this  tretis  sholde 

ese. 

hokle, 

I     vouche-sauf,    as    wisly    have    I 

In    consistorie,  among  the   Grekes, 

loye,                                           90 

sone                                            65 

For  you  to  lese  al  that   I  have  in 

He  gan  in  thringe  forth,  with  lordes 

olde, 
And  sette  him  there-as  he  was  wont 

Troye, 

14.    Save   of  a   doughter,  that    I    lafte. 

to  done; 

alias ! 

And  with  a  chaunged  face  hem  bad 

Slepinge  at  hoom,  whanne  out  of 

a  bone, 

Troye  I  sterte. 

For  love  of  god,  to  don  that  rever- 

0 Sterne,  0  cruel  fader  that  I  was ! 

ence, 

How  mighte  I  have  in  that  so  hard 

To  stinte  noyse,  and  yeve  him  audi- 

an herte?                                     95 

ence.                                           70 

Alias !     I    ne    hadde   y-brought  hir 

in  hir  sherte ! 

II.    Thanne  seyde  he  thus,  '  lo !  lordes 

For  sorwe  of  which  I  wol  not  live 

myne,  I  was 

to  morwe, 

Troian,   as    it    is    knowen    out    of 

But-if  ye   lordes    rewe    up-on    my 

drede; 

sorwe. 

And    if  that  yow  remembre,  I   am 

Calkas, 

15.    For,  by  that  cause  I  say  no  tyme  er 

That  alderfirst  yaf  comfort  to  your 

now 

nede. 

Hir  to  delivere,  I  holden  have  my 

And  tolde  wel  how  that  ye  sholden 

pees;                                         100 

spede.                                         75 

But    now  or    never,  if  that  it  lyke 

For  dredelees,  thorugh  yow,  shal,  in 

yow, 

a  stounde. 

I  may  hir  have  right  sone,  doute- 

Ben  Troye  y-brend,  and  beten  doun 

lees. 

to  grounde. 

0  help  and  grace !  amonges  al  this 

prees. 

12.    And   in    what   forme,    or    in    what 

Rewe  on  this  olde  caitif  in  destresse, 

maner  wyse 

Sin  I  through  yow  have  al  this  hevi- 

This   town   to  shende,  and  al  your 

nesse !                                       105 

lust  to  acheve. 

Ye  han  er  this  wel  herd  it  me  de- 

16.    Ye  have  now  caught  and  fetered  in 

vyse ;                                            80 

prisoun 

This  knowe  ye,  my  lordes,  as  I  leve. 

Troins   y-nowe;    and  if  your  willes 

And  for  the  Grekes  weren   me   so 

be. 

leve. 

My   child  with    oon   may  have   re- 

I    com    my-self  in  my  propre   per- 

dempcioun. 

sone. 

Now    for   the  love  of  god   and  of 

To  teche  in  this  how  yow  was  best 

bountee. 

to  done; 

Oon  of  so  fele,  alias !  so  yeve  him 

me.                                            1 10 

13.    Havinge    un-to   my  tresour   ne  my 

What  nede  were  it  this  preyere  for 

rente                                          85 

to  werne, 

302 


TROILUS   AND   CRTSEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[i 12-164. 


Sin  ye  shul  bothe  han  folk  and  toun 
as  yerne? 

17.  On  peril  of  my  lyf,  I  shal  not  lye, 
Appollo  hath  me  told  it  faithfully; 

I    have    eek    founde   it   by   astron- 

omye,  1 15 

By  sort,  and  by  augurie  eek  trewely. 

And  dar  wel  seye,  the  tyme  is  faste 

by, 

That  fyr  and  flaumbe  on  al  the  toun 

shal  sprede; 
And  thus  shal  Troye  turne  in  asshen 

dede. 

18.  For  certeyn,  Phebus  and  Neptunus 

bothe,  120 

That  makeden  the  wallesof  the  toun, 
Ben  with  the  folk  of  Troye  alwey  so 

wrothe. 
That  thei  wol   bringe   it   to   confu- 

sioun, 
Right  in  despyt  of  king  Lameadoun. 
By-cause  he  nolde  payen  hem  hir 

hyre,  125 

The  toun  of  Troye  shal  ben  set  on- 

fyre.' 

19.  Telling   his    tale    alwey,   this    olde 

greye. 
Humble  in  speche,  and  in  his  lok- 

inge  eke. 
The  sake  teres  from  his  eyen  tweye 
Ful   faste   ronnen    doun   by    eyther 

cheke.  130 

So  longe  he  gan  of  socour  hem  by- 

seke 
That,  for  to  hele  him  of  his  sorwes 

sore, 
They  yave  him  Antenor,  with-oute 

more. 

20.  But  who  was  glad  y-nough  but  Cal- 

kas  tho? 
And  of  this  thing  ful  sone  his  nedes 

leyde  I35 

On  hem  that  sholden  for  the  tretis 

go, 
And  hem  for  Antenor  ful  ofte  preyde 
To    bringen   hoom    king  Toas  and 

Criseyde ; 
And   whan    Pryam    his    save-garde 

sente. 


Thembassadours  to  Troye   streyght 
they  wente.  140 

21.  The  cause  y-told  of  hir  cominge,  the 

olde 
Pryam  the  king  ful  sone  in  general 
Let    here-upon    his    parlement    to 

holde. 
Of  which  the  effect  rehersen  yow  I 

shal. 
Thembassadours   ben   answered  for 

fynal,  14S 

Theschaunge    of    prisoners    and   al 

this  nede 
Hem  lyketh  wel,  and  forth  in  they 

procede. 

22.  This   Troilus   was    present    in    the 

place, 
Whan   axed  was  for  Antenor  Cris- 
eyde, 
For  which  ful  sone  chaungen  gan 

his  face,  150 

As  he  that  with  tho  wordes  wel  neigh 

deyde. 
But    nathelees,   he   no  word   to   it 

seyde, 
Lest    men    sholde    his    affeccioun 

espye; 
With    mannes    herte    he    gan    his 

sorwes  drye. 

23.  And   ful  of  anguish   and   of  grisly 

drede  155 

Abood  what  lordes  wolde  un-to  it 

seye; 
And  if  they  wolde  graunte,  as  god 

forbede, 
Theschaunge  of  hir,  than  thoughte 

he  thinges  tweye. 
First,  how  to  save  hir  honour,  and 

what  weye 
He  mighte  best  theschaunge  of  hir 

withstonde;  160 

Ful  faste  he  caste  how  al  this  mighte 

stonde. 

24.  Love  him  made  al  prest  to  doon  hir 

byde. 
And   rather   dye    than    she    sholde 

go; 
But  resoun  seyde  him,  on  that  other 

syde, 


165-216.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK    IV. 


303 


'  With-oute  assent  rf  hir  ne  do  not 

so,  165 

Lest  for  thy  werk  she  wolde  be  thy 

fo, 
And  seyn,  that  thorugh  thy  medling 

is  y-blowe 
Your  bother  love,  there  it  was  erst 

unknowe.' 

25.  For  which  he  gan  deliberen,  for  the 

beste, 
That  though  the  lordes  wolde  that 

she  wenle,  170 

He  wolde   late   hem  graunte  what 

hem  leste, 
And    telle    his   lady  first  what  that 

they  mente. 
And  whan  that  she  had  seyd  him 

hir  entente, 
Ther-after   wolde    he   werken    also 

blyve, 
Though  al  the  world  ayein  it  wolde 

stryve.  175 

26.  Ector,  which  that  wel   the   Grekes 

herde. 
For   Antenor  how  they  wolde  han 

Criseyde, 
Gan  it  withstonde,  and  sobrely  an- 

swerde :  — 
'  Sires,    she    nis    no    prisoner,'    he 

seyde ; 
'  I  noot  on  yow  who  that  this  charge 

leyde,  180 

But,  on    my  part,  ye   may  eft-sone 

him  telle. 
We   usen  here  no  wommen  for  to 

selle.' 

27.  The  noyse  of  peple  up-stirte  thanne 

at  ones, 
As  breme  as  blase  of  straw  y-set  on 

fyre; 
For    in  fortune    it    wolde,    for    the 

nones,  185 

They    sholden    hir   confusioun  de- 

syre. 
'  Ector,'  quod  they,  *  what  goost  may 

yow  enspyre. 
This  womman  thus   to   shilde    and 

doon  us  lese 
Daun  Antenor?  —  a  wrong  wey  now 

ye  chese — 


28.  That   is   so   wys,  and  eek  so   bold 

baroun,  190 

And  we  han  nede  of  folk,  as  men 
may  see; 

He  is  eek  oon,  the  grettest  of  this 
toun; 

O  Ector,  lat  tho  fantasyes  be  ! 

O  king  Pryam,'  quod  they,  'thus 
seggen  we. 

That  al  our  voys  is  to  for-gon  Cris- 
eyde; '  195 

And  to  deliveren  Antenor  they 
preyde. 

29.  O  luvenal,  lord !  trewe  is  thy  sen- 

tence. 
That   litel   witen    folk   what    is   to 

yerne 
That    they   ne    finde   in   hir   desyr 

offence ; 
For   cloud    of  errour   lat   hem    not 

descerne  200 

What  best  is;  and  lo,  here  ensample 

as  yerne. 
This  folk  desiren  now  deliveraunce 
Of  Antenor,  that   broughte  hem  to 

mischaunce ! 

30.  For  he  was  after  traytour  to  the  toun 
Of  Troye;   alias  !  they  quitte  him  out 

to  rathe;  205 

O  nyce  world,  lo  thy  discrecioun  ! 
Criseyde,    which    that    never    dide 

hem  skathe, 
Shal  now   no   lenger   in   hir   blisse 

bathe; 
But  Antenor,  he  shal  com  hoom  to 

toune, 
And  she  shal  out;  thus  seyden  here 

and  howne.  210 

31.  For  which   delibered   was   by  par- 

lement, 

For  Antenor  to  yelden  up  Cris- 
eyde, 

And  it  pronounced  by  the  presi- 
dent, 

Al-theigh  that  Ector  'nay'  ful  ofte 
preyde. 

And  fynaly,  what  wight  that  it 
with-seyde,  215 

It  was  for  nought,  it  moste  been, 
and  sholde; 


304 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[217-267. 


For  substaunce  of  the  parlement  it 
vvolde. 

32.  Departed  out  of  parlement  echone, 
This  Troilus,  with-oute  wordes  mo, 
Un-to    his    chaumbre    spedde    him 

faste  allone,  220 

But-if  it  were  a  man  of  his  or  two, 
The  whiche   he   bad  out   faste   for 

to  go, 
By-cause    he   wolde   slepen,   as    he 

seyde, 
And    hastely   up-on    his    bed    him 

leyde. 

33.  And   as   in   winter    leves   been   bi- 

raft,  225 

Eche   after   other,    til    the   tree   be 

bare. 
So    that    ther    nis    but    bark    and 

braunche  y-laft, 
Lyth    Troilus,    biraft   of    ech    wel- 
fare, 
Y-bounden   in   the   blake   bark    of 

care. 
Disposed   wood   out   of  his  wit   to 

breyde,  230 

So  sore  him  sat  the  chaunginge  of 

Criseyde. 

34.  He  rist  him  up,  and  every  dore  he 

shette 
And    windowe   eek,   and    tho    this 

sorweful  man 
Up-on  his  beddes  syde  a-doun  him 

sette, 
Ful    lyk    a    deed   image   pale   and 

wan ;  235 

And    in    his    brest   the    heped   wo 

bigan 
Out-breste,    and    he   to   werken   in 

this  wyse 
In   his   woodnesse,   as   I   shal  yow 

devyse. 

35.  Right  as  the  wilde  bole   biginneth 

springe 

Now  here,  now  there,  y-darted  to 
the  herte,  240 

And  of  his  deeth  roreth  in  com- 
pleyninge, 

Right  so  gan  he  aboute  the  chaum- 
bre sterte, 


Smyting  his  brest  ay  with  his  festes 

smerte  ; 
His   heed    to  the  wal,  his   body  to 

the  grounde 
Ful   ofte    he  swapte,  him-selven  to 

confounde.  245 

36.  His    eyen    two,    for    pitee    of    his 

herte, 
Out     stremeden    as    swifte    welles 

tweye ; 
The   heighe   sobbes   of   his   sorwes 

smerte 
His    speche    him    rafte,    unnethes 

mighte  he  seye, 
'  O  deeth,  alias !  why  niltow  do  me 

deye?  250 

A-cursed    be   the   day   which    that 

nature 
Shoop  me  to  ben  a  lyves  creature ! ' 

37.  But  after,  whan  the  furie  and   the 

rage 
Which    that   his   herte    twiste   and 

faste  threste, 
By  lengthe    of  tyme  somwhat  gan 

asswage,  255 

Up-on  his  bed  he  leyde  him  doun 

to  reste; 
But    tho    bigonne    his    teres   more 

out-breste. 
That    wonder    is,    the     body    may 

suffyse 
To  half  this  wo,  which  that  I  yow 

devyse. 

38.  Than    seyde    he    thus,    '  Fortune ! 

alias  the  whyle  !  260 

What   have    I    doon,  what   have    I 

thus  a-gilt? 
How    mightestow    for    reuthe    me 

bigyle  ? 
Is  ther  no  grace,  and  shal   I   thus 

be  spilt? 
Shal    thus   Criseyde  awey,  for   that 

thou  wilt? 
Alias !  how  maystow  in  thyn  herte 

finde  265 

To  been  to  me  thus  cruel  and  un- 

kinde? 

39.  Have    I    thee  nought   honoured   al 

my  lyvc. 


268-318.] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.    BOOK   IV. 


305 


As   thou  wel  wost,  above  the  god- 

In-to   your    grace,    and    bothe    our 

dcs  alle? 

hertes  seled, 

Why  wiltmv  me  fro  loye  thus   de- 

How    may   ye   suffre,    alias!     it    be 

pry  vc  ? 

repeled? 

0  Troilus,  what  may  men  now  thee 

calle                                         270 

43- 

What  I  may   doon,  I  shal,  whyl  I 

But   wrecche    of  wrecches,  out    of 

may  dure                                 295 

honour  falle 

On   lyve  in    torment   and    in    cruel 

In-to     niiscrie,     in    which     I     wol 

peyne, 

biwayle 

This  infortune  or  this  disaventure. 

Criseyde,  alias !    til  that  the  breeth 

Allone  as  I  was  born,  y-wis,  com- 

me  fayle? 

pleyne  ; 
Ne    never  wil    I   seen   it   shyne  or 

40.    Alias,    Fortune !    if  that  my  lyf  in 

reyne  ; 

loye 

But  ende  I  wil,  as  Edippe,  in  derk- 

Displesed    hadde    un-to    thy   foule 

nesse                                        300 

envye,                                         275 

My  sorwful   lyf,   and   dyen   in   dis- 

Why  ne  haddestow  my  fader,  king 

tresse. 

of  Troye, 

By-raft  the  lyf,  or   doon  my  breth- 

44. 

0  wery  goost,  that  errest  to  and  fro, 

eren  dye. 

Why  niltow  fleen  out  of  the  woful- 

Or   slayn   my-self,    that    thus   com- 

leste 

pleyne  and  crye, 

Body,  that  ever  mighte  on  grounde 

I,    combre-world,    that   may  of   no- 

go? 

thing  serve. 

0    soule,    lurkinge   in    this  wo,  un- 

But    ever     dye,    and     never     fully 

neste,                                          305 

sterve  ?                                    280 

Flee  forth  out  of  myn   herte,  and 
lat  it  breste, 

41.    If    that    Criseyde   allone   were   me 

And  folwe  alwey  Criseyde,  thy  lady 

laft, 

dere  ; 

Nought  roughte  I  whider  thou  wold- 

Thy  righte  place  is  now  no  lenger 

est  me  stere ; 

here! 

And    hir,   alias!     than   hastow   me 

biraft. 

45- 

0  wofuUe  eyen   two,  sin  your   dis- 

But   ever-more,    lo !     this    is    thy 

port 

manere, 

Was    al    to    seen    Criseydes    eyen 

To  reve  a  wight  that  most  is  to  him 

brighte,                                      310 

dere,                                           285 

What    shal    ye    doon    but,   for   my 

To   preve    in   that   thy   gerful    vio- 

discomfort, 

lence. 

Stonden  for  nought,  and  wepen  out 

Thus   am    I    lost,    ther   helpeth   no 

your  sighte? 

defence ! 

Sin  she   is    queynt,    that   wont  was 
yovv  to  lighte, 

42.    0    verray    lord    of    love,    0    god. 

In  veyn  fro-this-forth    have   I  eyen 

alias ! 

tweye 

That   knowest   best  myn  herte  and 

Y-formed,     sin     your      vertue     is 

al  my  thought, 

a-weye. 

What  shal   my   sorwful    lyf  don   in 

this  cas                                      290 

46. 

0  my  Criseyde,  O  lady  sovereyne 

If    I    for-go    that    I    so    dere    have 

Of    thilke    woful    soule    that    thus 

bought? 

cryeth, 

Sin  ye  Cryseyde  and  me  han   fully 

Who   shal   now   yeven    comfort    to 

brought 

my  peyne? 

3o6 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK    IV. 


[319-370- 


Alias,    no    wight;     but    when    myn 

50.    Pandare,  which  that    in    the  parle- 

herte   dyeth, 

ment 

My  spirit,  which  that  so  un-to  yow 

Hadde    herd   what    every   lord   and 

hyeth,                                         320 

burgeys  seyde,                        345 

Receyve  in  gree,  for   that   shal    ay 

And  how  ful  graunted  was,  by  oon 

yow  serve; 

assent, 

For-thy  no  fors  is,  though  the  body 

For  Antenor  to  yelden  so  Criseyde, 

sterve. 

Gan  wel  neigh  wood  out  of  his  wit 

to  breytle, 

47.    0  ye  loveres,  that  heighe  upon  the 

So  that,  for  wo,  he  niste  what  he 

wheel 

mente; 

Ben  set  of  Fortune,  in  good  aven- 

ture, 
God    leve  that  ye  finde  ay  love  of 

But  in  a  rees  to  Troilus  he  wente. 

51.    A  certeyn  knight,  that  for  the  tyme 

steel,                                         325 

kepte                                        351 

And    longe    mot    your    lyf    in    loye 

The  chaumbre-dore,  un-dide  it  him 

endure ! 

anoon ; 

But  whan  ye   comen    by  my  sepul- 

And  Pandare,  that  ful  tendreliche 

ture. 

wepte, 

Remembreth  that  your  felawe  rest- 

In-to  the  derke  chaumbre,  as  stille 

eth  there; 

as  stoon, 

For    I    lovede    eek,    though    I    un- 

Toward the  bed  gan  softely  to  goon, 

worthy  were. 

So   confus,   that    he    niste   what   to 

seye;                                         356 

48.    0    olde    unholsom     and     mislyved  1 

For  verray  wo  his   wit   was   neigh 

man,                                           330 

aweye. 

Calkas  I  mene,  alias !    what  eyleth 

thee 

52.    And  with   his  chere  and  loking  al 

To  been  a  Greek,  sin  thou  art  born 

to-torn. 

Troian  ? 

For  sorwe  of  this,  and  with  his  armes 

0  Calkas,  which  that  wilt  my  bane 

folden. 

be. 

He  stood  this  woful  Troilus  biforn, 

In  cursed   tyme  was   thou  born  for 

And  on  his  pitous  face  he  gan  bi- 

me! 

holden;                                    361 

As     wolde     blisful     love,    for     his 

But   lord,   so    often   gan    his   herte 

loye,                                         335 

colden, 

That  I  thee  hadde,  where  I  wolde. 

Being  his  freend  in  wo,  whos  hevi- 

in  Troye ! ' 

nesse 

His  herte  slow,  as  thoughte  him,  for 

49.    A  thousand  sykes,  hottere  than  the 

distresse. 

glede. 

Out    of    his    brest    ech    after    other 

53.    This  woful  wight,  this  Troilus,  that 

wente, 

felte                                            365 

Medled  with  pleyntes  newe,  his  wo 

Plis  freend  Pandare  y-comen  him  to 

tn  fede, 

see. 

For    which    his    woful    teres    never 

Gan  as  the  snow  ayein  the  sonne 

stente;                                          340 

melte, 

And  shortly,  so  his  peynes  him  to- 

For  which  this  sorwful  Pandare,  of 

rente. 

pitee. 

And    wex    so    mat,    that    loye    nor 

Gan  for  to  wepe  as  tendreliche  as 

penaunce 

he; 

He  feleth  noon,  but  lyth  forth   in  a 

And  specheles  thus  been  thise  ilke 

traunce. 

tweye,                                      370 

37I--126.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


307 


That    neyther    mighte   0   word    for 

Lat  me  thus  wepe  and  wayle,  til   I 

sorwe  seye. 

dye. 

54- 

ISut  at  the  laste  this  woful  Troilus, 

58.    And  over  al  this,  as  thou  wel  wost 

Ney  deed  for  smart,  gan  bresten  out 

thy-selve,                                 400 

to  rore, 

This  town  is  ful  of  ladies  al  aboute; 

And  with  a  sorwful  noyse  he  scyde 

And,  to  my  doom,  fairer  than  swiche 

thus. 

twelve 

Among   his   sobbes    and    his   sykes 

As  ever  she  was,  shal  I  finde,  in  som 

sore,                                            375 

route. 

'  Lo !    Pandare,    I    am    deed,   with- 

Ye,    oon    or    two,    with-outen    any 

outen  more. 

doute. 

Hastow  nought  herd  at  parlement,' 

For-thy  be  glad,  myn  owene  dere 

he  seyde. 

brother,                                      405 

'  F'or  Antenor  how  lost  is  my  Cris- 

If  she   be   lost,   we   shul    recovere 

eyde? ' 

another. 

55- 

This  Pandarus,  ful  deed  and  pxale  of 

59.    What,  god  for-bede  alwey  that  ech 

hewe, 

plesaunce 

Ful   pitously   answerde    and   seyde, 

In  0  thing  were,  and  in  non  other 

'  yis !                                         380 

wight ! 

As  wisly  were  it  fals  as  it  is  trewe, 

If  oon  can  singe,  another  can  wel 

That  I  have  herd,  and  wot  al  how  it 

daunce; 

is. 

If  this  be  goodly,  she  is  glad  and 

0    mercy,    god,    who    wolde    have 

light;                                        410 

trowed  this? 

And  this  is  fayr,  and  that  can  good 

Who  wolde  have  wend  that,  in  so 

a-right. 

litel  a  throwe. 

Ech    for    his    vertu    holden    is   for 

Fortune  our   loye  wolde  han  over- 

dere. 

throwe?                                     385 

Bothe  heroner  and  faucon  for  rivere. 

56. 

For  in  this  world  ther  is  no  creature, 

60.   And  eek,  as  writ  Zanzis,  that  was  ful 

As  to  my  doom,  that  ever  saw  ruyne 

wys. 

Straungere  than  this,  thorugh  cas  or 

"The  newe  love  out  chaceth  ofte 

aventure. 

the  olde;  "                                415 

But    who    may    al    eschewe    or    al 

And  up-on  newe  cas  lyth  newe  avys. 

devyne  ? 

Thenk  eek,  thy-self  to  saven  artow 

Swich  is  this  world;   for-thy  I  thus 

holde; 

defyne,                                       390 

Swich  fyr,  by  proces,  shal  of  kinde 

Ne  trust  no  wight  to  finden  in  For- 

colde. 

tune 

For  sin  it  is  but  casuel  plesaunce, 

Ay     propretee;     hir     yeftes     been 

Som  cas  shal  putte  it  out  of  remem- 

comune. 

braunce.                                 420 

57- 

But  tel  me  this,  why  thou  art  now 

61.    For  al-so  seur  as  day  cometh  after 

so  mad 

night. 

To  sorwen    thus?     Why   lystow    in 

The  newe  love,  labour  or  other  wo, 

this  wyse, 

Or  elles  selde  seinge  of  a  wight. 

Sin  thy  desyr  al  holly  hastow  had. 

Don  olde  affecciouns  alle  over-go. 

So  that,  by  right,  it  oughte   y-now 

And,  for  thy  part,  thou  shalt  have 

suffyse?                                      396 

oon  of  tho                               425 

But  1,  that  never  felte  in  my  servyse 

To  abrigge  with  thy  bittre  peynes 

A  frendly  chere  or  loking  of  an  ye. 

smerte; 

3o8 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV, 


[427-482 


Absence  of  hir  shal  dryve  hir  out  of 
herte.' 

62.  Thise  wordes  seyde  he  for  the  nones 

alle, 
To    helpe    his   freend,   lest    he    for 

sorvve  deyde. 
For  doutelees,   to   doon    his  wo  to 

falle,  430 

He  roughte  not  what  unthrift  that 

he  seyde. 
But  Troilus,   that   neigh   for   sorwe 

deyde, 
Tok  htel  hede   of  al  that   ever  he 

mente; 
Oon  ere  it  herde,  at  the  other  out  it 

wente :  — 

63.  But  at  the  laste  answerde  and  seyde, 

'  freend,  435 

This  lechecraft,  or  heled  thus  to  be, 
Were  wel  sitting,  if  that  I  were  a 

feend, 
To  traysen  hir  that  trewe  is  unto  me  ! 
I  pray  god,  lat  this  consayl  never 

y-thee ; 
But  do  me  rather  sterve  anon-right 

here  44° 

Er  I  thus  do  as  thou  me  woldest 

lere. 

64.  She  that  I  serve,  y-wis,  what  so  thou 

seye. 
To  whom  myn  herte  enhabit  is  by 

right, 
Shal  han  me  holly  hires  til  that  I 

deye. 
For,  Pandarus,  sin  I  have  trouthe 

hir  hight,  _  445 

I  wol  not  been  untrewe  for  no  wight; 
But  as  hir  man  I  wol  ay  live  and 

sterve. 
And  never  other  creature  serve. 

65.  And  ther  thou  seyst,  thou  shalt  as 

faire  iinde 
As  she,  lat  be,  make  no   compari- 

soun  450 

To  creature  y-formed  here  by  kinde. 

0  leve  Pandare,  in  conclusioun, 

1  wol  not  be  of  thyn  opinioun, 
Touching  al  this;   for  whiche  I  thee 

biseche, 


So  hold  thy  pees;    thou  sleest  me 
with  thy  speche.  455 

66.  Thow    biddest    me    I    sholde    love 

an-other 
Al  freshly  newe,  and   lat   Criseyde 

go! 
It  lyth  not  in  my  power,  leve  brother. 
And  though  I  mighte,  I  wolde  not 

do  so. 
But  canstow  pleyen  raket,  to  and 

fro,  460 

Netle  in,  dokke  out,  now  this,  now 

that,  Pandare? 
Now  foule  falle  hir,  for  thy  wo  that 

care ! 

67.  Thow    farest    eek    by     me,     thou 

Pandarus, 
As  he,  that  whan  a  wight  is  wo  bi- 

goon. 
He  Cometh  to  him  a  pas,  and  seyth 

right  thus,  465 

"  Thenk   not   on   smert,   and    thou      '  i 

shalt  fele  noon." 
Thou  most  me  first  transmuwen  in  a 

stoon, 
And  reve  me  my  passiounes  alle, 
Er  thou  so  lightly  do  my  wo  to  falle. 

68.  The  deeth  may  wel  out  of  my  brest 

departe  470 

The   lyf,  so  longe  may  this   sorwe 

myne; 
But  fro  my  soule  shal  Criseydes  darte 
Out  never-mo;   but  doun  with  Pro- 

serpyne. 
Whan  I  am  deed,  I  wol  go  wone  in 

pyne; 
And  ther  I  wol  eternally  compleyne 
My  woe,  and  how  that  twinned  be 

we  tweyne.  576 

69.  Thow  hast  here  maad  an  argument, 

for  fyn. 
How  that  it  sholde  lasse  peyne  be 
Criseyde  to   for-goon,   for   she  was 

myn, 
And  live  in  ese  and  in  felicitee.   480 
Why  gabbestow,  that  seydest  thus  to 

me 
That  "  him   is  wors  that  is  fro  wele 

y-ttirowe, 


483-534-] 


TROILUS  AND   t  RISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


309 


Than  he  hadde  erst  non  of  that  vvcle 

That  in  tliis  world  I  no-thing  so  de- 

y-knowe?" 

syre. 
0  deeth,  sin  with  this  sorwe   I   am 

70.    But    tcl    me    now,    sin    that    thee 

a-fyre. 

thinketh  so  h-jht 

Thou  outlier  do  me  anoon  in  teres 

To  chaungcn  so  in  love,  ay  to  and 

drenche,                                     510 

fro,                                              485 

Or  with  thy  colde  strook  myn  hetc 

Why  hastow  not  don  bisily  thy  mit^ht 

quenche ! 

To  chaungen   hir  that  doth  thee  al 

thy  wo? 

74- 

Sin  that  thou  sleest  so  fele  in  sondry 

Why  niltow  leto  hir   fro   thyn  herte 

wyse 

go? 

Ayens  hir  wil,    unpreyed,   day  and 

Why    niltow    love     an-other     lady 

night. 

swete, 

Do  me,  at  my  requeste,  this  servyse, 

That    may    thyn     herte    setten    in 

Delivere  now  the  world,  so  dostow 

quiete  ?                                       490 

right,                                          515 
Of  me,  that  am  the  wofulleste  wight 

71.    If  thou  hast  had  in  love  ay  yet  mis- 

That  ever  was;   for  tyme  is  that  I 

chaunce. 

sterve. 

And  canst   it  not  out  of  thyn  herte 

Sin   in   this  world   of   right   nought 

dryve, 

may  I  serve.' 

I,  that  livede  in  lust  and  in  ples- 

aunce 

75- 

ThisTroilus  in  teres  gan  distille, 

With  hir  as  muche  as  creature  on- 

As  licour  out  of  alambyk  ful  faste; 

lyve. 

And  Pandarus  gan  holde  his  tunge 

How  sholde  I  that  foryete,  and  that 

stille,                                         521 

so  blyve?                                 495 

And  to  the  ground  his  eyen  doun  he 

0  where  hastow  ben  hid  so  longe  in 

caste. 

muwe. 

But  nathelees,  thus  thoughte  he  at 

That  canst  so  wel  and  formely  ar- 

the  laste. 

guwe  ? 

'  What,  parde,  rather  than  my  felawe 
deye. 

72.    Nay,  nay,  god  wot,  nought  worth  is 

Yet  shal  I  scm-what  more  un-to  him 

al  thy  reed, 

seye : '                                       525 

For  which,  for  what  that  ever  may 

bifalle, 

76. 

And  seyde,  '  freend,  sin  thou  hast 

With-outen  wordes    mo,  I  wol    be 

swich  distresse, 

deed.                                          500 

And  sin  thee  list  myn  arguments  to 

0  deeth,  that  endere  art  of  sorwes 

blame, 

alle. 

Why  nilt  thy-selven  helpen  doon  re- 

Com  now,  sin  I  so  ofte  after  thee 

dresse. 

calle, 

And  with  thy  manhod  letten  al  this 

For  sely  is  that  deeth,  soth  for  to 

grame  ? 

seyne, 

Go  ravisshe  hir  ne  canstow  not   for 

That,  ofte  y-cleped,  Cometh  and  end- 

shame !                                       530 

eth  peyne. 

And  outher  lat  hir  out  of  toune  fare. 
Or  hold  hir  stille,  and  leve  thy  nyce 

73.    Wel   wot    I,    whyl    my   lyf  was    in 

fare. 

quiete,                                        505 

Er   thou   me  siovve,  I   wolde   have 

77- 

Artow  in  Troye,  and  hast  non  hardi- 

yeven  hyre; 

ment 

But  now  thy  cominge  is  to  me  so 

To  take  a  womman  which  that  lov- 

swete, 

eth  thee. 

jio 

TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV.                 [535-588. 

And  vvolde  hir-selven  Ijeen  of  thyn 

With  violence,  if  I  do  swich  a  game; 

assent?                                       535 

For  if  I  wolde  it  openly  distourbe. 

Now  is  not  this  a  nyce  vanitee? 

It    moste    been    disclaundre    to   hir 

Rys  up  anoon,  and  lat  this  weping 

name. 

be, 

And  me  were  lever  deed  than  hir  de- 

And kyth  thou  art  a  man,  for  in  this 

fame,                                          565 

houre 

As  nolde  god  but-if  I  sholde  have 

I  wil  be  deed,  or  she  shal  bleven 

Hir  honour    kver    than    my    lyf   to 

oure.' 

save ! 

78. 

To  this   answerde  him   Troilus   ful 

82. 

Thus  am  I  lost,  for  ought  that  I  can 

softe,                                        540 

see; 

And    seyde,    '  parde,    leve    brother 

For   certeyn   is,   sin   that   I    am   hir 

dere, 

knight, 

Al  this  have  I  my-self  yet  thought 

I  moste  hir  honour  levere  han  than 

ful  ofte, 

me                                               570 

And  more  thing  than  thou  devysest 

In  every  cas,  as  lovere  oughte  of 

here. 

right. 

But  why  this  thing  is  laft,  thou  shalt 

Thus   am   I   with    desyr    and    reson 

wel  here; 

tvvight; 

And  whan  thou  me  hast  yeve   an 

Desyr  for  to  distourben  hir  me  red- 

audience,                                   545 

eth. 

Ther-after  mayst  thou  telle  al  thy  sen- 

And reson   nil  not,  so    myn    herte 

tence. 

dredeth.' 

79- 

First,  sin  thou  wost  this  toun  hath  al 

83. 

Thus  wepinge  that  he  coude  never 

this  werre 

cesse,                                        575 

For  ravisshing   of  wommen   so   by 

He    seyde,    '  alias !     how    shal     I, 

might. 

wrecche,  fare? 

It  sholde  not  be  suffred  me  to  erre, 

For  wel  fele  I  alwey  my  love  en- 

As  it  stant  now,  ne  doon  so  gret  un- 

cresse, 

right.                                        550 

And  hope  is  lasse  and  lasse  alwey, 

I  sholde  han   also  blame  of  every 

Pandare ! 

wight. 

Encressen    eek   the   causes    of    my 

My  fadres  graunt  if  that  I  so  with- 

care ; 

stode, 

So  wel-a-wey,  why   nil    myn    herte 

Sin  she  is  chaunged  for  the  tounes 

breste?                                     580 

goode. 

For,  as  in  love,  ther  is  but  litel 
reste.' 

80. 

I  have  eek  thought,  so  it  were  hir 

assent. 

84. 

Pandare    answerde,    '  freend,    thou 

To  aske  hir  at  my  fader,  of  his  grace; 

mayst,  for  me, 

Than  thenke  I,  this  were  hir  accuse- 

Don  as  thee  list;   but  hadde  ich  it 

ment,                                        556 

so  hote. 

Sin  wel  I  woot  I  may  hir  not  pur- 

And  thyn  estat,  she  sholde  go  with 

chace. 

me; 

For  sin  my  fader,  in  so  heigh  a  place 

Though  al  this  toun  cryede  on  this 

As  parlement,   hath    hir   eschaunge 

thing  by  note,                          585 

enseled. 

I  nolde  sette  at  al  that  noyse  a  grote. 

He  nil  for  me  his  lettre  be  repeled. 

For  when  men  han  wel  cryed,  than 
wol  they  roune; 

81. 

Yet  drede  I  most  hir  hertc  to  per- 

A  wonder  last  but  nyne  night  never 

tourbe                                        561 

in  toune. 

589-640.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


3" 


85. 

Devyne  nut  in  reson  ay  so  depe 

Thanne  is  she  fals;   s(j  love  hir  wel 

Ne     curtcysly,     but     help     thy-self 

the  lasse. 

anoon ;                                          590 

Bet  is  tliat  othere    than    tliy-sclvcn 

89.     For-thy  lak   hcrtc,  and  Ihcnk,  right 

wepe, 

as  a  knight, 

And  namely,  sin  ye  two  been  al  oon. 

Thourgh  love  is  broken  alday  every 

Rys  up,  for  by  niyn  heed,  she  shal 

lawe. 

not    goon ; 

Kyth  now  sumwhat  thy  corage  and 

And    rather    be    in    blame    a    lytc 

thy  niighl, 

y-founde 

Have    mercy    on    thy-self,    for    any 

Than   sterve  here   as  a  gnat,  with- 

awe.                                            620 

oute   wounde.                         595 

Lat  not  this  wrecched  wo  tliin  licrtc 
gnawe. 

86. 

It  is  no  shame  un-to  yow,  ne  no  vyce 

But  manly  set  the  world  on  sixe  and 

Hir  to  with-holden,  that  ye  loveth 

sevene; 

most. 

And,   if  thou  deye  a  martir,  go  to 

Taraunter,  she  mighte  holden  thee 

hevene. 

for  nyce 

To  lete  hir  go  thus  to  the  Grekes 

90.    I  wol  my-self  be  with  thee  at  this 

ost. 

dede, 

Thenk  eek  Fortune,  as  wel  thy-selven 

Though  ich  and  al  my  kin,  up-on  a 

wost,                                         600 

stounde,                                     625 

Helpeth  hardy  man  to  his  empryse, 

Shulle  in  a  strete  as  dogges  liggen 

And     vveyveth     wrecches,    for     hir 

dede, 

cowardyse. 

Thourgh-girt  with  many  a  wyd  and 
blody  wounde. 

87. 

And  though  thy  lady  wolde  a  litel 

In  every  cas  I  wol  a  freend  be  f(junde. 

hir  greve. 

And  if  thee    list  here  sterven    as  a 

Thou   shalt   thy  pees  ful  wel  here- 

wrecche. 

after  make. 

A-dieu,  the  devel  spede  him  that  it 

But  as  for  me,  certayn,  I  can  not 

recche ! '                                  630 

leve                                             605 

That  she  wolde  it  as  now  for  yvcl 

91.    This  Troilus   gan  with   tho  wordes 

take. 

quiken, 

Why  sholde  than  for  ferd  thyn  hcrtc 

And  seyde,  '  freend,  graunt   mercy. 

quake? 

ich  assente; 

Thenk  eek  how  Paris  hath,  that  is 

But  certaynly  thou  mayst  not  me  so 

thy  brother. 

prikcn. 

A  love;   and  why  shaltow  not  have 

Ne  peyne  noon  ne  may  me  so  tor- 

another? 

mente, 
That,    for    no    cas,    it    is    not   myn 

88. 

And   Troilus,    0   thing   I    dar    thee 

entente,                                      635 

swere,                                       610 

At    shorte   wordes,   though    I    dyen 

That  if  Criseyde,  whiche  that  is  thy 

sholde. 

leef, 

To    ravisshe    hir,    but-if    hir-sclf    it 

Now  loveth  thee  as  wel  as  thou  dost 

wolde.' 

here. 

God  helpe   me  so,  she  nil  not  take 

92.    '  Why,  so  mene  I,'  quod  Pandarus, 

a-greef. 

'  al  this  day. 

Though  thou  do  bote  a-noon  in  this 

ISut    tcl    me    than,    liastow    hir    wel 

mischeef. 

assayed, 

And  if  she  wilncth  fro  thee  for   to 

Tliat  sorwest    thus?'     And    he   an- 

passe,                                         615 

swerdc,  '  nay.'                           '^o 

312 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[641-693. 


'  Wher-of    artow,'    quod     Pandare, 

'  than    a-mayed. 
That  nost  not  that  she  vvol  ben  yvel 

apayed 
To  ravisshe  hir,  sin  thou    hast    not 

ben  there, 
But-if  that  love  tolde  it  in  thyn  ere? 

93.  For-thy  rys  up,  as  nought  ne  were, 

anoon,  645 

And  wash  thy  face,  and  to  the  king 

thou  wende, 
Or  he  may  wondren  whider  thou  art 

goon. 
Thou  most  with  wisdom    him   and 

othere  blende; 
Or,  up-on   cas,  he    may  after   thee 

sende 
Er  thou  be  war;  and  shortly,  brother 

dere,  650 

Be  glad,  and  lat  me  werke  in  this 

matere. 

94.  For  I  shal  shape  it  so,  that  sikerly 
Thou  shalt  this  night  som  tyme,  in 

som  manere, 
Com  speke  with  thy  lady  prevely. 
And  by  hir  wordes  eek,  and  by  hir 

chere,  655 

Thou  shalt  ful  sone  aparceyve  and 

wel   here 
Al  hir  entente,  and  in  this  cas  the 

beste ; 
And  fare  now  wel,  for  in  this  point 

I  reste.' 

95.  The  swifte  Fame,  whiche  that  false 

thinges 
Egal     reporteth     lyk     the    thinges 

trewe,  660 

Was  thorugh-out  Troye  y-fled  with 

preste  winges 
Fro  man  to  man,  and  made  this  tale 

al  newe, 
How    Calkas    doughter,    with     hir 

brighte  hewe, 
At     parlement,     with-oute     wordes 

more, 
I-graunted  was  in  chaunge  of  Ante- 

nore.  665 

96.  The    whiche    tale     anoon-right    as 

Criseyde 


Had   herd,   she   which   that   of  hir 

fader  roughte, 
As    in    this    cas,    right    nought,   ne 

whanne  he  deyde, 
Ful  bisily  to  luppiter  bisoughte 
Yeve  him  mischaunce  that  this  tretis 

broughte.  670 

But   shortly,  lest   thise   tales   sothe 

were. 
She  dorste  at  no  wight  asken  it,  for 

fere. 

97.  As  she  that  hadde  hir  herte  and  al 

hir  minde 
On  Troilus  y-set  so  wonder  faste. 
That  al  this  world  ne  mighte  hir  love 

unbinde,  675 

Ne  Troilus  out  of  hir  herte  caste; 
She  wol  ben  his,  whyl  that  hir  lyf 

may  laste. 
And  thus  she  brenneth  bothe  in  love 

and  drede. 
So  that  she  niste  what  was  best  to 

rede. 

98.  But  as  men  seen  in  toune,  and  al 

aboute,  680 

That  wommen  usen  frendes  to  visyte, 
So  to  Criseyde  of  wommen    com  a 

route 
For    pitous   loye,  and   wenden   hir 

delyte; 
And  with  hir  tales,  dere  y-nough  a 

myte. 
These  wommen,  whiche  that  in  the 

cite  dwelle,  685 

They  sette  hem  doun,  and  seyde  as 

I  shal  telle. 

99.  Quod   first   that   con,  '  I    am  glad, 

trewely, 
By-cause  of  yow,  that  shal  your  fader 

see.' 
A-nother    seyde,    '  y-wis,    so    nam 

not  I; 
For   al   to   litel   hath    she   with    us 

be.'  690 

Quod  tho  the  thridde, '  I  hope,  y-wis, 

that  she 
Shal  bringen  us  the  pees  on  every 

syde. 
That,  whan  she  gooth,  almighty  god 

hir  gyde !  ' 


694-744] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.     BOOK  IV. 


313 


100.     riio  wordesand  tho  woinmaniiisshe 

And  they  that  hadde  y-knowen  hir 

thinges, 

of  yore 

She  herde  hem  right  as  though  she 

Seye  hir  so  wepe,  and  thoughte  it 

theniies  were;                         695 

kindenesse,                             720 

Fur,  gixl  it  wot,  hir  herte  on  other 

And   eche  of  hem  wepte   eek  for 

tiling  is, 

hir  distresse; 

Although  the  body  sat  among  hem 

there. 

104. 

And   bisily  they  gonnen   hir   con- 

Ilir     advertence    is    alwey    elles- 

forten 

where; 

Of  thing,  god  wot,  on  which   she 

For    TroiUis    ful    faste    hir    soule 

litel  thoughte; 

soughte; 

And    with    hir    tales   wenden    hir 

With-oulen    word,    alwey    on    him 

disporten, 

she  thoughte.                         700 

And  to  be  glad  they  often  hir  bi- 
soughte.                                   725 

loi.    Thisc  wommcn,  that  thus  wenden 

But  swich  an  ese  ther-with  they  hir 

hir  to  plese. 

wroughte 

Aboute  nought  gonne  allc  hir  tales 

Right  as  a  man  is  esed  for  to  fele, 

spende; 

For   ache  of  heed,  to  clawen  him 

Swich  vanitee  ne  can  don  hir  non 

on  his  hele ! 

ese, 
As  she  that,  al  this  mene  whyle, 

105, 

But  after  al  this  nyce  vanitee 

brende 

They  took  hir  leve,  and  hoom  they 

Of  other  passioun  than  that  they 

wenten  alle.                            730 

wende,                                     705 

Criseyde,  ful  of  sorweful  pitee, 

So  that  she  felte  almost  hir  herte 

In-to   hir  chaumbre  up  wente  out 

deye 

of  the  halle, 

For   wo,   and  wery  of   that  com- 

And  on  hir  bed  she  gan  for  deed 

panye. 

to  falle, 
In   purpos    never    thennes   for   to 

102.    For  which   no  lenger   mighte  she 

ryse; 

restreyne 

And  thus  she  wroughte,  as  I  shal 

Ilir    teres,  so    they  gonnen  up  to 

yow  (^evyse.                           735 

welle. 

•     ..x^*/ 

That   yeven    signes   of  the    bitter 

106. 

Hir  ounded  heer,  that  sonnish  was 

peyne                                     710 

of  hewe, 

In  whiche  hir  spirit  was, and  moste 

She  rente,  and  eek  hir  fingres  longe 

dwelle; 

and  smale 

Remembring   hir,  fro  heven    unto 

She  wrong  ful  ofte,  and  bad  god 

which  helle 

on  hir  rewe, 

She  fallen  was,  sith  she  forgoth  the 

And  with  the  deeth  to  doon  bote 

sighte 

on  hir  bale. 

Of    Troilus,    and    sorowfully    she 

Hir  hewe,  whylom  bright,  that  tho 

sighte. 

was  pale,                                740 
Bar  witnes  of  hir  wo  and  hir  con- 

103.    And     thilke     foles     sittinge     hir 

streynte; 

al)oute                                    715 

And   thus   she   spak,  sobbinge,  in 

Wenden,  that  she  wepte  and  syked 

sore 
By-cause   that   she   sholde  out  of 

hir  compleynte  : 

107. 

•  Alas  ! '    quod    she,   '  out   of    this 

that  route 

regioun 

Dcparte,  and  never  pleye  with  hem 

I,  woful  wrecche   and   infortuned 

more. 

wight, 

3f4 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  IV. 


[745-797- 


And    born    in     corsed     constella- 

III.    I  shal  don  thus,  sin  neither  swerd 

cioun,                                     745 

ne  darte 

Mot   goon,  and  thus  departen  fro 

Dar  I  non  handle,  for  the  crueltee, 

my  knight; 

That  ilke  day  that  I  from  yow  de- 

Wo  worth,  alias!    that  ilke  dayes 

parte, 

light 

If  sorwe  of  that  nil  not  my  bane 

On  which  I  saw  him  first  with  eyen 

be. 

tweyne. 

Than  shal  no  mete  or  drinke  come 

That  causeth  me,  and  I  him,  al  this 

in  me                                     775 

peyne ! ' 

Til  I  my  soule  out  of  my  breste 

unshethe; 

108.    Therwith  the  teres  from  hir  eyen 

And  thus  my-selven  wol  I  do  to 

two                                         750 

dethe. 

Doun  fiUe,  as  shour  in  Aperill,  ful 

swythe; 

112.    And,   Troilus,    my    clothes    everi- 

Hir  whyte  brest  she  bet,  and  for 

choon 

the  wo 

Shul    blake    been,   in    tokeninge. 

After  the  deeth  she  cryed  a  thou- 

herte  swete. 

sand  sythe, 

That  I  am  as   out  of  this   world 

Sin  he  that  wont  hit  wo  was  for  to 

agoon,                                    780 

lythe. 

That  wont   was   yow  to   setten  in 

She  mot  for-goon;   for  which  dis- 

quiete; 

aventure                                 755 

And  of  myn  ordre,  ay  til  deeth  me 

She  held  hir-self  a  forlost  creature. 

mete, 

The  observaunce  ever,  in  your  ab- 

109.   She  seyde,  '  how  shal  he  doon,  and 

sence. 

I  also? 

Shal  sorwe  been,  compleynte,  and 

How  sholde  I  live,  if  that  I  from 

abstinence. 

him  twinne? 

0  dere  herte  eek,  that  I  love  so. 

113.    Myn  herte  and  eek  the  woful  goost 

Who  shal  that  sorwe  sleen  that  ye 

ther-inne                                 785 

ben  inne?                                760 

Biquethe    I,   with    your   spirit    to 

0   Calkas,  fader,  thyn   be   al   this 

compleyne 

sinne ! 

Eternally,    for     they     shul     never 

0   moder   myn,  that  cleped  were 

twinne. 

Argyve, 

For  though  in  erthe  y-twinned  be 

Wo  worth  that  day  that  thou  me 

we  tweyne. 

here  on  lyve ! 

Yet   in   the   feld  of  pitee,  out  of 

peyne. 

no.    To    what   fyn    sholde    I    live    and 

That   hight   Elysos,  shul  we   been 

sorwen  thus? 

y-fere,                                     790 

How  sholde  a  fish  with-oute  water 

As  Orpheus  and  Erudice  his  fere. 

dure?                                      765 

What     is    Criseyde     worth,    from 

1 14.    Thus  herte  myn,  for  Antenor,  alias ! 

Troilus? 

I  sone  shal  be  chaunged,  as  I  wene. 

How   sholde   a   plaunte    or    lyves 

But  how  shul  ye  don  in  this  sorwful 

creature 

cas. 

Live,   with-oute    his    kinde     nori- 

How  shal   your  tendre   herte  this 

ture? 

sustene?                                   795 

For  which  ful  oft  a  by-word  here  I 

But  herte  myn,  for-yet  this  sorwe 

seye, 

and  tene, 

That,   "  rotelees,  mot   grene   sone 

And   me  also;    for,  soothly  for  to 

deye."                                   770 

seye, 

7<>o-S47-J 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  IV. 


315 


So   ye   wel   fare,  I    recche   not  to 

That   in  the    hous   he   mighte    un- 

deye.' 

nethe  abyde, 

As   he    that    pitce    felte    on   every 

115.    How  mighte  it  ever  y-red  ben  or 

syde. 

y-suiij;e, 

For  if  Criseyde    hadde   erst   com- 

The  pleynte  that  she  made  in  hir 

pleyned  sore,                        825 

distresso?                                800 

Tho   gan    she    pleyne   a  thousand 

I    noot;    but,  as    for    me,  my  litel 
tonge, 

tymes  more.  / 
119.    And  in  hir  aspre  pleynte  than  she 

If  I  discreven  wolde  hir  hevinesse, 

It   sholde    make    hir   sorwe    seme 

seyde, 

lesse 

'  Pandare  first  of  loyes   mo    than 

Than   that   it  was,  and   childishly 

two 

deface 

Was  cause  causinge  un-to  me,  Cri- 

Hir  heigh    compleynte,  and  ther- 

seyde, 

fore  I  it  pace.                     805 

That  now  transmuwed  been  in  cruel 

wo.                                          830 

116.    Tandare,    which    that    sent    from 

Wher   shal    I    seye    to   yow   "  wel 

Troilus 

come  "  or  no, 

Was  to  Criseyde,  as  ye  han  herd 

That  alderfirst  me  broughte  in-to 

devyse, 

servyse 

That  for  the  beste  it  was  accorded 

Of  love,  alias !  that  endeth  in  swich 

thus, 

wyse? 

And  he  ful  glad  to  doon  him  that 

servyse. 

120.    Endeth  than  love  in  wo?     Ye,  or 

Un-to    Criseyde,   in   a   ful    secree 

men  lyeth  ! 

wyse,                                      810 

And  alle  worldly  blisse,  as  thinketh 

Ther-as  she  lay  in  torment  and  in 

me,                                         835 

rage, 

The  ende  of  blisse  ay  sorwe  it  oc- 

Com  hir  to  telle  al  hooUy  his  mes- 

cupyeth; 

sage. 

And  who-so  trowetb  not  that  it  so 

be, 
Lat  him  upon  me,  woful  wrecche, 

117.    And  fond  that  she  hir-selven  gan 

to  trete 

y-see. 

Ful    pitously;     for   with    hir   salte 

That  my-self  hate,  and  ay  my  birthe 

teres 

acorse. 

Hir  brest,  hir  face  y-bathed  was  ful 

Felinge  alwey,  fro  wikke    I   go  to 

wete;                                        815 

worse.                                     840 

The  mighty  tresses  of  hir  sonnish 

heres. 

121.    Who-so  me  seeth,  he  seeth  sorwe 

Unbroyden,  hangen  al  aboute  hir 

al  at  ones, 

eres; 

Peyne,   torment,  pleynte,  vro,  dis- 

Which   yaf  him   verray   signal  of 

tresse. 

martyre 

Out  of  my  woful  body  harm  ther 

Of  deeth,  which  that  hir  herte  gan 

noon  is, 

desyre. 

As  anguish,  langour,  cruel  bitter- 

nesse. 

118.    Whan   she    him  saw,  she  gan  for 

A-noy,  smert,  drede,  fury,  and  eek 

sorwe  anoon                         820 

siknesse.                                  845 

Hir   tery   face    a-twixe   hir   armes 

I  trowe,  y-wis,  from  hevene  teres 

hyde. 

reyne. 

For  which   this  I'andare  is  so  wo 

For  pitee  of  myn  aspre  and   cruel 

bi-goon, 

peyne ! ' 

3i6 

TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV.                 [848-899. 

122. 

'  And  thou,  my  suster,   ful  of  dis- 

From Troilus  thise  wordes  to  Cri- 

comfort,' 

seyde.                                     875 

Qiiod  Pandarus, '  what  thenkestow 

to  do? 

126. 

'  Lo,  nece,  I  trowe  ye  han  herd  a) 

Why  ne  hastow  to  thy-selven  som 

how 

resport,                                  850 

The   king,  with  othere  lordes,  for 

Why  woltow  thus  thy-selve,  alias. 

the  beste, 

for-do? 

Hath  mad  eschaunge  of  Antenor 

Leef  al  this  werk  and  tak  now  hede 

and  yow. 

to 

That  cause  is  of  this  sorwe  and  this 

That  I  shal  seyn,  and  herkne,  of 

unreste. 

good  entente. 

But  how  this  cas  doth  Troilus  mo- 

This,  which  by  me  thy  Troilus  thee 

leste,                                       880 

sente.' 

That  may  non  erthely  mannes  tonge 
seye; 

123. 

Torned  hir  tho  Criseyde,  a  wo  mak- 
inge                                        855 

For  verray  wo  his  wit  is  al  aweye. 

So  greet  that  it  a  deeth  was  for  to 

127. 

For  which  we  han  so   sorwed,  he 

see:  — 

and  I, 

'  Alias  ! '    quod  she,  •  what  wordes 

That  in-to  litel  bothe  it  hadde  us 

may  ye  bringe? 

slawe ; 

What  wol  my  dere  herte  seyn  to  me. 

But   thurgh   my  conseil   this   day, 

Which  that  I  drede  never-mo  to 

fynally,      _                            885 

see? 

He   somwhat   is   fro  weping   now 

Wol  he  have  pleynte  or  teres,  er  I 

with-drawe. 

wende?                                  860 

And  semeth  me  that  he  desyreth 

I    have    y-nowe,   if    he    ther-after 

fawe                      V**-^ 
With  yow  to  been  al  night,  for  to 

sende  ! ' 

devyse 

124. 

She  was  right  swich  to  seen  in  hir 

Remede   in  this,  if  ther  were  any 

visage 

wyse. ' 

As  is  that  wight  that  men  on  here 

binde; 

128. 

This,  short  and  pleyne,  theflfect  of 

Hir  face,  lyk  of  Paradys  the  image. 

m;    message,                         890 

Was    al    y-chaunged    in    another 

As  ferforth  as  my  wit  can  compre- 

kinde.                                       865 

hende. 

The  pleye,  the  laughtre  men   was 

For  ye,  that  been  of  torment   in 

wont  to  finde 

swich   rage, 

In   hir,   and    eek  hir   loyes   ever- 

May  to  no  long  prologe  as   now 

ychone. 

entende; 

Ben  fled,  and  thus  lyth  now  Cri- 

And her-upon  ye  may  answere  him 

seyde  allone. 

sende. 
And,  for  the  love  of  god,  my  nece 

125. 

Aboute  hir  eyen  two  a  purpre  ring 

dere,                                       895 

v;>' 

Bi-trent,    in    sothfast    tokninge    of 

So    leef   this    wo    er    Troilus    be 

hir  peyne,                                870 

here.' 

That  to  biholde  it  was  a  dedly  thing. 

For   which    Pandare    mighte    not 

129. 

'Gret  is   my  wo,'  quod   she,    and 

restreyne 

sighte  sore, 

The   teres    from    his    eyen  for   to 

As  she  that  feleth  dedly  sharp  dis- 

reyne. 

tresse; 

But  nathelees,  as  he  best  mighte,  he 

•  But  yet  to  me  his  sorwe  is  muchel 

seyde 

more, 

900-950.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


317 


That  love  him  bet  than  he  him-self, 

I  gesse.  900 

Alias !  for  nie  hath  he  swich  hevi- 

nesse? 
Can   he   for  me  so  pitously  com- 

pleyne? 
Y-wis,  this  sorwe  doubleth  al  my 

peyne. 

130.  Grevous  to  me,  god  wot,  is  for  to 

twinne,' 
Quod  she,  '  but  yet  it  hardere  is  to 

me  905 

To  seen  that  sorwe  which  that  he 

is  inne; 
For  wel  wot  I,  it  wol  my  bane  be ; 
And   deye  I  wol    in   certayn,'  tho 

quod  she ; 
'  But    bidde   him   come,  er   deeth, 

that  thus  me  threteth, 
Dryve  out  that  goost,  which  in  myn 

herte  beteth.'  910 

131.  Thise    wordes    seyd,   she    on    hir 

amies  two 
Fil  gruf,  and  gan  to  wepe  pitously. 
Quod  Pandarus,  '  alias !  why  do  ye 

so, 
Syn  wel  ye  wot  the  tyme  is  faste  by. 
That    he    shal    come?      Arys    up 

hastely,  915 

That  he  yow  nat  biwopen  thus  ne 

finde, 
But  ye  wol  han  him  wood  out  of 

his  minde ! 

132.  For  wiste  he  that  ye  ferde  in  this 

manere, 
He  wolde  him-selve  slee  ;  and  if  I 

wende 
To  han    this   fare,  he   sholde  not 

come  here  920 

For  al  the  good  that  Pryam  may 

despende. 
For  to  what  fyn  he  wolde  anoon 

prctende, 
That  knowe  I  wel ;  and  for-thy  yet 

I  seye, 
So  leef  this  sorwe,  or  platly  he  wol 

deye. 

133.  And  shapeth  yow  his  sorwe  for  to 

abregge,  925 


And    nought    encresse,   leve   nece 

swete; 
Beth  rather  to   him  cause  of  flat 

than  egge,   -t^j?^  (iVij^v-.-».  "^ 
And    with    som   wysdom    ye    his 

sorwes  bete. 
What  helpeth  it    to  wepen  ful   a 

strete, 
Or  though  ye  bothe  in  salte  teres 

dreynte  ?  930 

Bet  is  a  tyme  of  cure  ay  than  of 

pleynte. 

134.  I  mene  thus  ;    whan  I  him  hider 

bringe, 
Sin  ye  ben  wyse,  and  bothe  of  oon 

assent, 
So    shapeth    how   distourbe    your 

goinge. 
Or   come   ayen,  sone   after   ye  be 

went.  935 

Wommen  ben  wyse  in  short  avyse- 

ment; 
And  lat  sen  how  your  wit  shal  now 

avayle ; 
And  what  that  I  may  helpe,  it  shal 

not  fayle.' 

135.  'Go,'  quod   Criseyde,  'and    uncle, 

trewely, 
I  shal   don   al   my   might,  me   to 

restreyne  940 

From   weping    in    his    sight,   and 

bisily. 
Him  for  to  glade,  I  shal  don  al  my 

peyne. 
And    in    myn    herte   seken   every 

veyne ; 
If  to  this  soor  ther  may  be  founden 

salve, 
It  shal  not  lakken,  certain,  on  myn 

halve.'  945 

136.  Goth    Pandarus,    and    Troilus   he 

soughte. 
Til    in    a    temple     he    fond    him 

allone. 
As  he    that   of  his   lyf  no   lenger 

roughte; 
But   to    the   pitouse   goddes   ever- 

ichone 
Ful  tendrely  he  preyde,  and  made 

his  mone,  950 


3ii 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[951-1003. 


To  doon  him  sone  out  of  this  world 

That  purveyaunce  hath  seyn  bifore 

to  pace; 

to  be. 

For  wel  he  thoughte  ther  was  non 

Wherfor  I  seye,  that  from  eterne  if 

other  grace. 

he 

Hath  wist  biforn  our  thought  eek 

137.    And   shortly,  al   the   sothe  for  to 

as  our  dede, 

seye, 

We  have  no  free  chois,  as  these 

He  was  so  fallen  in  despeyr  that 

day, 
That  outrely  he  shoop  him  for  to 

clerkes  rede.                         980 

141.    For  other  thought  nor  other  dede 

deye.                                      955 

also 

For  right   thus  was  his  argument 

Might  never  be,  but  swich  as  pur- 

alwey: 

veyaunce, 

He  seyde,  he  nas  but  loren,  way- 

Which    may    not    ben     deceyved 

law  ey  ! 

never-mo. 

'  For    al    that    comth,    comth    by 

Hath  feled  biforn,  with-outen  igno- 

necessitee; 

raunce. 

Thus  to  be  lorn,  it  is  my  destinee. 

For  if  ther  mighte  been  a  variaunce 

To  wrythen   out  fro   goddes   pur- 

138.    For  certaynly,  this  wot  I  wel,'  he 

veyinge,                                 986 

seyde,                                       960 

Ther  nere  no  prescience  of  thing 

'That  for-sight  of  divyne    purvey- 

cominge; 

aunce 

Hath   seyn    alwey  me   to   for-gon 

142.    But  it  were  rather  an  opinioun 

Criseyde, 

Uncerteyn,   and    no    stedfast    for- 

Sin  god  seeth  every  thing,  out  of 

seinge; 

doutaunce. 

And  certes,  that  were  an  abusioun, 

And  hem   desponeth,   thourgh   his 

That  god  shuld  han  no  parfit  cleer 

ordenaunce, 

witinge                                    991 

In  hir  merytes  sothly  for  to  be,  965 

More  than  we  men  that  han  dout- 

As  they  shul  comen  by  predestinee. 

ous  weninge. 

But  swich  an  errour  up-on  god  to 

139.    But  nathelees,  alias !  whom  shal  I 

gesse 

leva? 

Were    fals   and   foul,  and  wikked 

For  ther  ben  grete  clerkes  many 

corsednesse. 

oon. 
That  destinee  thorugh  argumentes 

143.    Eek  this  is  an  opinioun  of  somme 

preve; 

That  han  hir  top  ful  heighe  and 

And   som   men   seyn    that    nedely 

smothe   y-shore;                    996 

ther  is  noon;                         970 

They  seyn  right  thus,  that  thing  is 

But   tnat   free    chois   is   yeven    us 

not  to  come 

everichoon. 

For  that  the  prescience  hath  seyn 

0,  welaway  !  so  sleye   am   clerkes 

bifore 

olde. 

That  it  shal  come;   but  they  seyn, 

That   I   not   whos   opinion  I   may 

that  therfore 

holde. 

That   it   shal    come,    therfore    the 

purveyaunce                        1000 

140.    For  som  men  seyn,  if  god  seth  al 

Wot    it    biforn    with-outen    igno- 

biforn, 

raunce; 

Ne   god   may   not   deceyved    ben, 

pardee,                                   975 

144.    And  in  this  manere  this  necessitee 

Than  moot  it  fallen,  though   men 

Retorneth    in    his    part   contrarie 

hadde  it  sworn. 

agayn. 

1 004-105  S.J 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


319 


For   needfully  bihoveth    it  not   to 

Be  sooth,  for  that  he  sit,  than  seye 

be 

I   this. 

That   thilke  thinges  fallen  in  cer- 

That  he  mot  sitten  by  necessitee; 

tayn                                      1005 

And  thus  necessitee  in  either  is. 

That    ben    purveyed;    but   nedely, 

For  in  him  nede  of  sitting  is,  y-wis. 

as  they  seyn. 

And  in   thee  nede  of  sooth;   and 

Bihoveth    it    that   thinges,  whiche 

thus,  forsothe,                     1035 

that  falle. 

Ther   moot  necessitee  ben  in  yow 

That  they  in  certayn  ben  purveyed 
alle. 

bothe. 

149,    But  thou  mayst  seyn,  the  man  sit 

145- 

I  mene  as  though  I  laboured  me 

not  therfore, 

in  this, 

That  thyn  opinion  of  sitting  soth 

To  enqueren  which  thing  cause  of 

is; 

which  thing  be  ;                 loio 

But   rather,    for   the  man  sit   ther 

As  whether  that  the  prescience  of 

bifore. 

god  is 

Therfore    is    thyn    opinion   sooth, 

The  certayn  cause  of  the  necessitee 

y-wis.                                   1040 

Of  thinges   that    to   comen   been. 

And    I  seye,  though   the  cause  of 

pardee ; 

sooth  of  this 

Or  if  necessitee  of  thing  cominge 

Comth  of  his  sitting,  yet  necessitee 

Be   cause   certeyn   of  the  purvey- 

Is   entrechaunged,   bothe    in    him 

inge.                                     1015 

and  thee. 

146. 

But   now  ne  enforce  I  me  nat  in 

150.    Thus   on   this   same   \vyse,   out  of 

shewinge 

doutaunce. 

How   the   ordre   of  causes   stant; 

I   may  wel   maken,    as  it   semeth 

but  wel  wot  I, 

me,                                        1045 

That  it  bihoveth  that  the  bifallinge 

My   resoninge   of  goddes  purvey- 

Of  thinges  wist  biforen  certeynly 

aunce. 

Be  necessarie,  al  seme  it  not  ther- 

And  of  the  thinges  that  to  comen 

by                                          1020 

be; 

That  prescience  put  falling  neces- 

By  whiche    reson    men  may  wel 

saire 

y-see, 

To  thtng  to  come,  al  falle  it  foule 

That   thilke  thinges  that   in  erthe 

or  faire. 

falle. 
That    by    necessitee    they    comen 

147. 

For  if  ther  sit  a  man  yond  on  a 
see,                     ^-'^ 

alle.                                     1050 

Than  by  necessitee  bihoveth  it 

151.    For  al-though  that,  for  thing  shal 

That,    certes,    thyn    opinioun    soth 

come,  y-wis. 

be,                                         1025 

Therfore  is  it  purveyed,  certaynly. 

That  wenest  or  coniectest  that  he 

sit; 
And    ferther-over    now    ayenward 

Nat  that  it  comth  for  it  purveyed 

IS  \ 
Yet    nathelees,    bihoveth    it    ned- 

yit. 

fully. 

Lo,  right  so  it  is  of  the  part  con- 

That  thing  to  come  be  purveyed. 

trarie. 

trewely;                                  1055 

As  thus;   (now  herkne,    for  I  wol 

Or  elles,  thinges  that  purveyed  be, 

not  tarie): 

That  they  bityden  by  necessitee. 

148. 

I    seye,    that    if    the   opinioun    of 

152.    And    this    suffyseth    right    y-now, 

thee                                      1030 

certeyn, 

320 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEVDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[1059- 1 1 08. 


For  to  destroye  our  free  chois 
every  del.  — 

But  now  is  this  abusion  to 
seyn,  1060 

That  fallinge  of  the  thinges  tem- 
porel 

Is  cause  of  goddes  prescience 
eternel. 

Now  trewely,  that  is  a  fals  sen- 
tence, 

That  thing  to  come  sholde  cause 
his  prescience. 

153.  What  mighte  I  wene,  and  I  hadde 

swich  a  thought,  1065 

But  that  god  purveyth  thing  that 

is  to  come 
For   that   it  is  to  come,  and  elles 

nought? 
So  mighte  I  wene  that  thinges  alle 

and  some, 
That    whylom    been     bifalle    and 

over-come, 
Ben  cause  of  thillce  sovereyn  pur- 

veyaunce,  1070 

That   for-wot   al   with-outen  igno- 

raunce. 

154.  And  over  al  this,  yet  seye  I  more 

herto, 
That  right  as  whan  I  woot  ther  is 

a  thing, 
Y-wis,  that  thing  mot  nedefully  be 

so; 
Eek  right  so,  whan  I  woot  a  thing 

coming,  I075 

So   mot   it   come;     and    thus   the 

bifalling 
Of  thinges  that  ben  wist  bifore  the 

tyde, 
They  mowe  not  been  eschewed  on 

no  syde.' 

155.  Than    seyde    he    thus,    '  almighty 

love  in  trone, 
That   wost    of    al    this   thing   the 

soothfastnesse,  1080 

Rewe  on  my  sorwe,  or  do  me  deye 

sone. 
Or  bring  Criseyde  and  me  fro  this 

distresse.' 
And  whyl  he  was  in  al  this  hevi- 

nesse, 


Disputinge    with    him-self    in    this 

matere. 
Com  Pandare  in,  and  seyde  as  ye 

may  here.  1085 

156.  '  O   mighty  god,'    quod   Pandarus, 

'  in  trone, 
Ey !    who   seigh    ever  a  wys   man 

faren  so? 
Why,  Troilus,  what  thenkestow  to 

done? 
Hastow  swich  lust   to   been   thyn 

owene  fo? 
What,  parde,  yet  is  not   Criseyde 

a-go !  1090 

Why  lust  thee  so  thy-self  for-doon 

for  drede. 
That  in  thyn  heed  thyn  eyen  semen 

dede? 

157.  Hastow   not    lived  many   a    yeer 

biforn 
With-outen  hir,  and  ferd  ful  wel  at 

ese? 
Artow  for  hir  and   for   non   other 

born?  1095 

Hath  kinde  thee  wroughte  al-only 

hir  to  plese? 
Lat  be,  and  thenk  right  thus  in  thy 

disese. 
That,  in  the  dees  right  as  ther  fallen 

chaunces. 
Right  so  in  love,  ther  come  and 

goon  plesaunces. 

158.  And  yet  this  is  a  wonder  most  of 

alle,  1 100 

Why  thou  thus  sorwest,  sin   thou 

nost  not  yit. 
Touching   hir  goinge,  how  that  it 

shal  falle 
Ne  if  she  can  hir-self  distorben  it. 
Thou  hast  not   yet  assayed  al  hir 

wit. 
A  man  may  al  by  tyme  his  nekke 

bede  1105 

Whan  it  shal  of,  and  sorwen  at  the 

nede. 

159.  For-thy  take  hede  of  that  that  I 

shal  seye; 
I  have  with  hir  y-spoke  and  longe 
y-be, 


II09-II59] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.     BOOK  IV. 


321 


So   as    accorded   was    bitwixe    us 

As  I  seyde  erst,  for  wo  and  for  sob- 

tweye. 

binge. 

And    ever-mo   me    thinketh    thus, 

that  she                                1 1 10 

163. 

Tho   woful    teres   that   they   leten 

Hath  som-what  in  hir  hertes  pre- 

falle                                       1 135 

vetee, 

As  bittre  weren,  out  of  teres  kinde, 

Wher-with  she  can,  if  I  shal  right 

For  peyne,  as  is  ligne  aloes  or  galle. 

arede, 

So  bittre  teres  weep  nought,  as  I 

Distorbe  al  this,  of  which  thou  art 

nnde. 

•     in  drede. 

The  woful  Myrra  through  the  bark 
and  rinde. 

160.    For  which  my  counseil  is,  whan  it 

That  in  this  world  ther  nis  so  hard 

is  night, 

an  herte,                               1 140 

Thou  to  hir  go,  and  make  of  this 

That    nolde    han    tewed    on    hir 

an  ende;                                1 115 

peynes  smerte. 

And  bhsful  luno,  thourgh  hir  grete 

niighte, 

164. 

But  whan   hir   woful   wery   gostes 

Shal,  as  I  hope,  hir  grace  un-to  us 

tweyne 

sende. 

Retorned  been  ther-as  hem  oughte 

Myn    herte    seyth,   "  certeyn,   she 

dwelle, 

shal  not  wende;  " 

And  that  som-what  to  wayken  gan 

And  for-thy  put  thyn  herte  a  whyle 

the  peyne 

in  rest; 

By  lengthe  of  pleynte,  and  ebben 

And  hold  this  purpos,  for  it  is  the 

gan  the  welle                      1 145 

beste.'                                   1 1 20 

Of  hire  teres,  and  the  herte   un- 
swelle, 

161.    This  Troilus  answerde,  and  sighte 

With   broken   voys,  al    hoors   for- 

sore. 

shright,  Criseyde 

'  Thou  seyst  right  wel,  and  I  wil  do 

To  Troilus  thise  ilke  wordes  seyde  : 

right  so;  ' 

And  what  him  liste,  he  seyde  un-to 

165. 

'O    love,    I    deye,    and    mercy   I 

it  more. 

beseche ! 

And  whan  that   it   was   tyme    for 

Help,   Troilus !  '    and   ther-with-al 

to  go. 

hir  face                                 1150 

Ful    prevely    him-self,   with-outen 

Upon  his  brest  she  leyde,  and  loste 

mo,                                       1 1 25 

speche; 

Un-to  hir  com,  as  he  was  wont  to 

Hir  woful  spirit   from  his   propre 

done ; 

place, 

And  how  they  wroughte,  I  shal  yow 

Right    with    the  word,    alwey    up 

telle  sone. 

poynt  to  pace. 
And  thus  she  lyth  with  hewes  pale 

162.    Soth  is,  that  whan  they  gonne  first 

and  grene. 

to  mete. 

That  whylom  fresh  and  fairest  was 

So  gan  the  peyne  hir  hertes  for  to 

to  sene.                                 1155 

twiste. 

That  neither  of  hem  other  mighte 

166. 

This    Troilus,    that    on     hir    gan 

grete,                                    11 30 

biholde. 

But  hem  in  amies  toke  and  after 

Clepinge  hir  name,  (and  she  lay  as 

kiste. 

for  deed. 

The   lasse   wofuUo    of  hem    bothe 

With-oute   answere,  and   felte  hir 

niste 

limes  colde. 

Wher  that   he  was,  ne   mighte  0 

Hir  even  throwen  upward  to   hir 

word  out-bringe, 

heed). 

322 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[1160-1210. 


This  sorwful  man  can  now  noon 
other  reed,  11 60 

But  ofte  tyme  hir  colde  mouth  he 
kiste; 

Wher  him  was  wo,  god  and  him- 
self it  wiste ! 

167.  He  rist  him  up,  and  long  straight 

he  hir  leycle; 
For  signe  of  lyf,  for  ought  he  can 

or  may, 
Can  he  noon  finde  in  no-thing  on 

Criseyde,  1165 

For   which    his    song    ful   ofte   is 

'  weylaway ! ' 
But  whan  he  saugh  that  specheles 

she  lay, 
With  sorwful  voys,  and   herte   of 

blisse  al  bare, 
He   seyde   how   she  was   fro    this 

world  y-fare ! 

168.  So  after  that  he  longe  hadde  hir 

compleyned,  11 70 

His  hondes  wrong,  and  seyde  that 

was  to  seye, 
And  with  his  teres  salte  hir  brest 

bireyned, 
He  gan  tho  teris  wypen  of  ful  dreye. 
And    pitously   gan    for   the   soule 

preye, 
And  seyde,  '  O  lord,  that  set  art  in 

thy  trone,  1175 

Rewe  eek  on  me,  for  I  shal  folwe 

hir  sone ! ' 

169.  She  cold  was  and  with-outen  sente- 

ment. 
For  aught  he  woot,  for  breeth  ne 

felte  he  noon; 
And  this  was  him  a  preignant  argu- 
ment 
That    she   was   forth   out   of    this 

world  agoon;  1 180 

And  whan  he  seigh  ther  was  non 

other  woon, 
He  gan  hir  limes  dresse  in  swich 

manere 
As  men  don  hem  that  shul  be  leyd 

on  bere. 

170.  And   after   this,   with   sterne    and 

cruel  herte. 


His  swerd  a-noon  out  of  his  shethe 

he  twighte,  1185 

Him-self  to  sleen,  how  sore    that 

him  smerte. 
So  that  his  sowle  hir  sowle  folwen 

mighte, 
Ther-as  the  doom  of  Mynos  wolde 

it  dighte; 
Sin  love  and  cruel  Fortune  it  ne 

wolde,  • 

That  in  this  world  he  lenger  liven 

sholde.  1 190 

171.  Thanne  seyde   he   thus,   fulfild   of 

heigh  desdayn, 
'O  cruel  love,  and   thou,  Fortune 

adverse, 
This  al  and  som,  that  falsly  have  ye 

slayn 
Criseyde,  and  sin  ye  may  do  me  no 

werse, 
Fy  on  your  might  and  werkes  so 

diverse!  1^95 

Thus  cowardly  ye  shul  me  never 

winne; 
Ther  shal  no  deeth  me  fro  my  lady 

twinne. 

172.  For  I  this  world,  sin  ye  han  slayn 

hir  thus, 
Wol  lete,  and  folowe  hir  spirit  lowe 

orhye;  1199 

Shal  never  lover  seyn  that  Troilus 
Dar  not,  for  fere,  with  his  lady  dye; 
For  certeyn,  I  wol  bere  hir  com- 

panye. 
But  sin  ye  wol  not  suffre  us  liven 

here, 
Yet  suffreth   that   our   soules   ben 

y-fere. 

173.  And    thou,    citee,   whiche    that    I 

leve  in  wo,  1205 

And   thou,    Pryam,  and  bretheren 

al  y-fere, 
And  thou,  my  moder,  farewel !  for 

I  go; 
And  Attropos,  make  redy  thou  my 

bere ! 
And  thou,  Criseyde,  o  swete  herte 

dere, 
Recey ve  now  my  spirit ! '  wolde  he 

seye,  1210 


I2II-I26I.] 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


323 


With  3vver<l  at  herte,  al  redy  for  to 

For,    by  that  ilke  lord   that  made 

(Icye. 

me, 
I  nolde  a  forlong  wey  on-lyve  han 

174. 

l>ut  as  god  wolde,  of  swough  ther- 

be. 

with  she  abreyde, 

After    your      deeth,     to     han    be 

And    gan    to   syke,  and   'Troilus' 

crowned  quene 

she  cryde; 

Of  al  the  lond  the  Sonne  on  shyn- 

And     he     answerde,    '  lady    myn 

eth  shene. 

Criseyde, 

Live   ye  yet?'  and  leet  his  swerd 

178.    But  with  this  selve  swerd,  which 

doun  glyde.                          121 5 

that  here  is,                       1240 

'Ye,  herte  myn,  that   thanked  be 

My-selve     I    wolde    have    slayn ! ' 

Cupyde ! ' 

—  quod  she  tho; 

Quod    she,    and    ther-with-al    she 

'  But    ho,  for  we  han  right  y-now 

sore  sighte; 

of  this, 

And   he  bigan  to  glade  hit  as  he 

And  late  us  ryse  and   streight   to 

mighte; 

bedde  go. 
And  there  lat  vs  speken  of  our  wo. 

I75- 

Took  hir  in  armes  two,  and  kiste 

For,  by  the  morter  which  that   I 

hir  ofte, 

see  brenne,                         1245 

And    hir   to  glade   he  dide  al   his 

Knowe  I    ful  wel   that  day  is  not 

entente;                                 1220 

fer  henne.' 

For  which  hir  goost,  that  flickered 

ay  on-lofte, 

179.    Whan  they  were  in  hir  bedde,  in 

In-to  hir  woful  herte  ayein  it  wente. 

armes  folde. 

But  at  the  laste,  as  that  hir  eyen 

Nought   was    it    lyk    tho    nightes 

glente 

here-biforn; 

A-syde,  anoon  she  gan   his  swerd 

For  pitously  ech  other  gan  biholde. 

aspye. 

As  they  that   hadden  al  hir  blisse 

As  it   lay   bare,  and  gan   for  fere 

y-lorn,                                   1250 

crye,                                      1225 

Biwaylinge  ay   the   day  that  they 
were  born. 

176. 

And  asked  him,  why  he  it  hadde 

Til   at  the  last  this  sorwful  wight 

out-drawe? 

Criseyde 

And  Troilus  anoon  the  cause   hir 

To     Troilus     these     ilke     wordes 

tolde. 

seyde :  — 

And     how    himself    ther-with    he 

wolde  have  slawe. 

180.    '  Lo,  herte  myn,  wel  wot  ye  this,' 

For  which  Criseyde  up-on  him  gan 

quod  she, 

biholde. 

'That  if  a  wight  alwey  his  wo  com- 

And   gan    him  jn   hir  armes  faste 

pleyne,                                  1255 

folde,                                    1230 

And   seketh    nought    how   holpen 

And    seyde,    'O   mercy,    god,   lo, 

for  to  be, 

which  a  dede  ! 

It   nis   but    folye   and   encrees   of 

Alias !  how  neigh    we  were  bothe 

peyne; 

dede  ! 

And   sin   that   here  assembled   be 
we  tweyne 

177. 

Thanne  if  I  ne  hadde  spoken,  as 

To  finde  bote  of  wo  that  we   ben 

grace  was. 

inne. 

Ye     wolde     han     slayn     your-self 

It  were  al  tyme  sone  to  biginne. 

anoon? '  quod  she. 

'Ye,  douteless;'  and  she  answerde, 

181.    I   am    a   womman,   as   ful   wel  ye 

'alias!                                    1235 

woot,                                      1 261 

324 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


I"  1 262-1 3 1 5. 


And  as  I  am  avysed  sodeynly, 

185. 

Makinge  alwey  a  protestacioun, 

So  vvol  I  telle  vow,  whyl  it  is  hoot. 

That    now    these    wordes,    whiche 

Me  thinketh  thus,  that  neither  ye 

that  I  shal  seye,                1290 

nor  I 

Nis  but  to  shewe  yow  my  mocioun. 

Oughte  half  this  wo  to  make  skil- 

To finde  un-to  our  helpe  the  beste 

fully.                                       1265 

weye; 

For  there  is  art  y-now  for    to  re- 

And    taketh   it   non  other  wyse,  I 

dresse 

preye. 

That   yet   is   mis,   and    sleen   this 

For   in   effect  what-so  ye  me   co- 

hevinesse. 

maunde, 
That  wol  I  doon,  for  that  is  no  de- 

182.    Sooth  is,  the  wo,  the  whiche  that 

maunde.                                 1295 

we  ben  inne. 

For    ought    I    woot,    for    no-thing 

186. 

Now  herkeneth    this,  ye   han  wel 

elles  is 

understonde 

But  for  the  cause  that  we  sholden 

My  goinge   graunted    is   by  parle- 

twinne.                                   i 270 

ment 

Considered    al,    ther    nis    no-more 

So   ferforth,   that    it    may   not  be 

amis. 

with-stonde 

But  what  is  thanne  a  remede  un-to 

For  al  this  world,  as  by  my  luge- 

this. 

ment. 

But  that  we  shape  us  sone  for  to 

And  sin  ther  helpeth  noon  avyse- 

mete? 

ment                                     13CX) 

This   al   and   som,  my  dere  herte 

To   letten   it,   lat   it   passe  out  of 

swete. 

minde; 
And  lat  us  shape  a  bettre  way  to 

183.    Now    that    I    shal    wel  bringen    it 

finde. 

aboute                                  1275 

To  come  ayein,  sone  after  that  I  go. 

187. 

The  sothe  is,  that  the  twinninge  of 

Ther-of  am   I  no  nianer    thing  in 

us  tweyne 

doute. 

Wol     us     disese     and     cruelliche 

For    dredeles,    with-inne   a   wouke 

anoye. 

or  two, 

But  him  bihoveth  som-tyme  han  a 

I  shal  ben  here;   and,  that  it  may 

peyne,                                    1305 

be  so 

That  serveth  love,   if  that  he  wol 

By   alle    right,   and    in   a   wordes 

have  loye. 

fewe,                                     1 280 

And  sin  I  shal  no  ferthere  out  of 

I  shal  yow  wel  an  heep  of  weyes 

Troye 

shewe. 

Than  I  may  ryde  ayein  on  half  a 
morvve, 

184.    For  which    I  wol  not  make   long 

It  oughte  lasse  causen  us  to  sorwe. 

sermoun. 

For  tyme  y-lost  may  not  recovered 

188. 

So    as    I   shal  not    so    ben  hid   in 

.be; 

muwe,                                     1310 

But  I  wol  gon  to  my  conclusioun. 

That  day  by  day,  myn  owene  herte 

And  to  the  beste,  in  ought  that  I 

dere. 

can  see.                                1285 

Sin  wel  ye  woot  that  it  is  now  a 

And,  for  the  love  of  god,  for-yeve  it 

truwe. 

me 

Ye  shul  ful  wel  al  myn  estat  y-here. 

If  I  speke  ought  ayein  your  hertes 

And  er  that  truwe  is  doon,  I  shal 

reste; 

ben  here, 

For   trewely,    I    speke    it    for   the 

And  thanne  have  ye  bothe  Antenor 

beste; 

y-wonne                               1315 

I3I6-I368.] 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


325 


And    me    also;    bcth    glad   now,  if 

For  if  he  wiste  in  Troye  how  wel  I 

ye  conne; 

fare, 
Us  neded  for  my  wending  nought 

189.    And    thenk   right   thus,  "  Criseyde 

to  care. 

is  now  agoon, 

But  what !  she  shal  come  hastely 

193- 

Ye  seen  that  every  day  eek,  more 

ayeyn;  " 

and  more,                            1345 

And   whanne,    alias?    by   god,   lo, 

Men  trete  of  pees;   and  it  supposed 

right  anoon. 

is, 

Er    dayes    ten,    this   dar   I    saufly 

That  men  the  quene  Eleyne  shal 

seyn.                                     1320 

restore, 

And  thanne  at  erste  shul  we  been 

And  Grekes  us  restore  that  is  mis. 

30  fayn, 

So  though  ther  nere  comfort  noon 

So    as   we   shulle  to-gederes   ever 

but  this. 

dwelle. 

That  men  purposen  pees  on  every 

That  al  this  world  ne  mighte  our 

syde,                                     1350 

blisse  telle. 

Ye  may  the  bettre  at  ese  of  herte 
abyde. 

190.    I   see   that    ofte,    ther-as   we   ben' 

now. 

194. 

For  if  that  it  be  pees,  myn  herte 

That  for  the  beste,  our  conseil  for 

dere. 

to  hyde,                               1325 

The  nature  of  the  pees  mot  nedes 

Ye  speke  not  with  me,  nor  I  with 

dryve 

yow 

That     men    moste    entrecomunen 

In  fourtenight;   ne  see  yow  go  ne 

y-fere, 

ryde. 

And  to  and  fro  eek  ryde  and  gon 

May     ye    not    ten    dayes    thanne 

as  blyve                   ^           1355 

abyde, 

Alday  as  thikke  as  been  flen  from 

For    myn    honour,    in    swich    an 

an  hyve; 

aventure  ? 

And  every  wight   han   libertee  to 

Y-wis,  ye  mowen  elles  lite  endure  ! 

bleve  A-i/y-..*!*-^ 
Wher-as    him   list    the   bet,   with- 

191.   Ye  knowe  eek  how  that  al  my  kin 

outen  leve. 

is  here,                                 1331 

But-if  that  onliche  it  my  fader  be; 

195- 

And  though  so  be  that  pees  ther 

And  eek  myn  othere  thinges  alle 

may  be  noon. 

y-fere, 

Yet  hider,  though  ther  never  pees 

And  nameliche,  my  dere  herte,  ye, 

ne  were,                               1360 

Whom  that  I  nolde  leven  for  to  see 

I  moste  come;   for  whider  sholde  I 

For  al  this  world,  as  wyd  as  it  hath 

goon. 

space;                                   1336 

Or  how  mischaunce  sholde  I  dwelle 

Or  elles,  see  ich  never  loves  face  ! 

there 
Among  tho  men  of  armes  ever  in 

192.    Why   trowe   ye    my  fader   in    this 

fere? 

wyse 

For  which,  as  wisly  god  my  soule 

Coveiteth   so    to    see    me,   but    for 

rede, 

drede 

I  can  not  seen  wher-of  ye  sholden 

Lest  in   this  toun   that   folkes  me 

drede.                                     1365 

dispyse                                   1340 

By-cause  of  him,  for  his  unhappy 

196. 

Have  here  another  wey,  if  it  so  be 

dede? 

That  al  this  thing  ne  may  yow  not 

What  woot  my  fader  what  lyf  that 

suffyse. 

I  lede? 

My  fader,  as  ye  knowen  wel,  pardee, 

326 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[1369-1420. 


Is  old,  and  elde  is  ful  of  coveityse. 
And  I  right  now  have  founden  al 

the  gyse,  1370 

With-oute    net,  wher-with    I    shal 

him  hente; 
And  herkeneth  how,  if  that  ye  wole 

assente. 

197.  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, 

y-wis,  1375 

Mot  spenden  part,  the  remenaunt 

for  to  save. 
For   ay   with   gold   men   may   the 

herte  grave 
Of  him  that  set  is  up-on  coveityse; 
And   how  I  mene,  I   shal  it   yow 

devyse. 

198.  The  moeble  which  that  I  have  in 

this  toun  1380 

Un-to  my  fader  shal  I    take,  and 

seye. 
That  right  for  trust  and  for  sava- 

cioun 
It  sent  is  from  a  freend  of  his  or 

tweye. 
The  whiche   freendes   ferventliche 

him  preye 
To  senden  after  more,  and  that  in 

hye,  1385 

Whyl  that  this  toun  stant  thus  in 

lupartye. 

199.  And  that  shal  been  an  huge  quan- 

titee. 
Thus  shal  I  seyn,  but,  lest  it  folk 

aspyde. 
This  may  be  sent  by  no  wight  but 

by  me; 
I   shal   eek   shewen   him,   if  pees 

bityde,  1390 

What  frendes  that  ich  have  on  every 

syde 
Toward    the   court,   to    doon    the 

wrathe  pace 
Of  Priamus,  and  doon  him  stonde 

in  grace. 

200.  So,  what  for  o  thing  and  for  other, 

swete, 


I  shal  him  so  enchaunten  with  my 

sawes,  1395 

That  right  in  hevene  his  sowle  is, 

shal  he  mete ! 
For  al  Appollo,  or  his  clerkes  lawes. 
Or  calculinge  avayleth  nought  three 

hawes; 
Desyr  of  gold  shal   so   his   sowle 

blende. 
That,  as  me  lyst,  I  shal  wel  make 

an  ende.  1400 

201.  And  if  he  wolde  ought  by  his  sort 

it  preve 
If  that    I    lye,  in  certayn   I   shal 

fonde 
Distorben  him,  and  plukke  him  by 

the  sieve, 
Makinge  his  sort,  and  beren  him 

on  honde, 
He  hath  not  wel  the  goddes  under- 

stonde.  1405     ,    > 

For  goddes  speken  in  amphibolo-^'^ 

gyes,  W'*'^ 

And,  for  a  sooth,  they  tellen  twenty 

lyes. 

202.  Eek    drede    fond   first   goddes,   I 

suppose. 
Thus  shal   I   seyn,   and    that    his 

cowarde  herte 
Made  him  amis  the  goddes  text  to 

glose,  1 410 

Whan  he  for  ferde  out  of  his  Del- 

phos  sterte. 
And  but  I  make  him  sone  to  con- 

verte. 
And  doon  my  reed  with-inne  a  day 

or  tweye, 
I  wol  to  yow  oblige  me  to  deye.' 

203.  And   treweliche,  as   writen   wel   I 

finde,  1415 

That  al  this  thing  was  seyd  of  good 

entente; 
And  that  hir  herte  trewe  was  and 

kinde 
Towardes  him,  and  spak  right   as 

she  mente, 
And  that  she  starf  for  wo  neigh, 

whan  she  wente. 
And   was   in   purpos   ever    to    be 

trewe;  1420 


I42I-I472.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


327 


Thus  writen  they  that  of  hir  wcrkes 
knewe. 

204.  This  Troilus,  with  hcrte  and  cres 

spradde, 
Herde  al  this  thing  devysen  to  and 

fro; 
And  verraylich  him  semed  that  he 

hadde 
The  selve  wit;  but  yet  to  letc  hir 

go  1425 

His  herte  misforyaf  him  ever-mo. 
But  fynally,  he  gan  his  herte  wrcste 
To  trusten  hir,  and  took  it  for  the 

beste. 

205.  For  which  the  grete  furie  of  his 

penaunce 
Was  queynt  with  hope,  and  ther- 

with  hem  bitwene  1430 

Bigan     for     loye     the     amorouse 

daunce. 
And  as  the  briddes,  whan  the  sonne 

is  shene, 
Delyten  in  hir  song  in  leves  grene. 
Right  so  the  wordes  that  they  spake 

y-fere 
Delyted  hem,  and  made  hir  hertes 

clere.  1435 

206.  But  natheles,  the  wending  of  Cri- 

seyde, 
For  al  this  world,  may  nought  out 

of  his  minde; 
For  which  ful  ofte  he  pitously  hir 

preyde, 
That   of    hir   heste   he   might   hir 

trewe  finde. 
And   seyde  hir,   'certes,  if  ye   be 

unkinde,  1440 

And  but  ye  come  at  day  set  in-to 

Troye, 
Ne  shal  I  never  have  hele,  honour, 

ne  loye. 

207.  For  al-so  sooth  as  sonne  up-rist  on 

morwe. 
And,  god  !  so  wisly  thou  me,  woful 

wrecche. 
To  reste  bringe  out  of   this   cruel 

sorwe,  1445 

I   wol   my-selven   slee   if  that    ye 

drecche. 


But  of  my  deeth  though  litel  be  to 

recche, 
Yet,  er   that   ye   me    cause   so    to 

smcrte, 
Dwel  rather  here,  myn  owenc  swete 

herte ! 

208.  For  trewely,  myn  owene  lady  dere, 
Tho  sleightes  yet  that  I  have  herd 

yovv  store  lIjjJ^  1451 

Ful    shaply    been    to    failcn    ailc 

y-fere. 
For    thus    men   seyn,   "  that    oon 

thenketh  the  here. 
But     al     another      thenketh     his 

ledere." 
Your  sire  is  wys,  and  seyd  is,  out 

of  drede,  1455 

"  Men  may  the  wyse  at-renne,  and 

not  at-rede." 

209.  It  is  ful  hard  to  halten  unespyed 
Bifore   a   crepul,   for   he  can    the 

craft; 
Your  fader  is  in  sleighte  as  Argus 

yed; 
For  al  be  that  his  moeble  is  him 

biraft,  1460 

His   olde    sleighte   is  yet   so  with 

him  laft, 
Ye   shal  not  blende  him  for   your 

womanhede, 
Ne  feyne  a-right,  and  that  is  al  my 

drede. 

210.  I  noot  if  pees  shal  ever-mo  bityde; 
But,  pees  or  no,  for  ernest  ne  for 

game,  1465 

I  woot,  sin  Calkas  on  the  Grekes 
syde 

Hath  ones  been,  and  lost  so  foule 
his  name, 

He  dar  no  more  come  here  ayein 
for  shame  ; 

For  which  that  weye,  for  ought  I 
can  espye. 

To  trusten  on,  nis  but  a  fan- 
tasy e,  1470 

211.  Ye  shal  eek  seen,  your  fader  slial 

yow  glose 
To  been  a  wyf,  and  as  he  can  wel 
preche, 


328                           TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV.             [1473-1522. 

He  slial  som  Grek  so  preyse  and 

So  thenk  I  nam    but   deed,  with- 

wel  alose, 

oute  more. 

That   ravisshen  he  shal   yow  with 

his  speche, 

215.    For   which,   with    humble,    trewe. 

Or  do  yow  doon  by  force    as   he 

and  pitous  herte. 

shal  teche.                           1475 

A   thousand   tymes   mercy   I    yow 

And   Troilus,  of  whom  ye  nil  han 

preye;                                    1500 

routhe, 

So   reweth    on  myn   aspre   peynes 

Shal    causeles   so    sterven   in    his 

smerte. 

trouthe ! 

And  doth  somwhat,  as  that  I  shal 

yow  seye. 

212.    And  over  al   this,  your  fader  shal 

And  lat  us  stele  away  bitwixe   us 

despyse 

tweye; 

Us  alle,  and  seyn  this  citee  nis  but 

And  thenk  that  folye  is,  whan  man 

lorn; 

may  chese. 

And     that     thassege     never     shal 

For  accident  his  substaunce  ay  to 

aryse,                                  1480 

lese.                                    1505 

For-why   the    Grekes   han   it   alle 

sworn 

2 1 6.    I  mene  this,  that  sin  we  mowe  er 

Til   we    be   slayn,   and   doun  our 

day 

walles  torn. 

Wel  stele  away,  and  been  to-gider 

And   thus    he   shal  you  with    his 

so. 

wordes  fere, 

What   wit   were    it    to    putten   in 

That  ay  drede  I,  that  ye  wol  bleve 

y                  assay, 

In  cas  ye  sholden  to  your  fader  go. 

there.                                   »,"»-'^' 

If  that  ye  mighte  come   ayein   or 

213.    Ye  shul  eek  seen  so  many  a  lusty 

no?                                       1510 

knight                                  1485 

Thus  mene  I,  that  it  were  a  gret 

A-mong  the  Grekes,  ful  of  worthi- 

folye 

nesse, 

To   putte  that    sikernesse    in    lu- 

And  eche  of  hem  with  herte,  wit. 

partye. 

and  might 

To  plesen   yow   don   al    his   besi- 

217.    And   vulgarly   to   speken   of   sub- 

nesse, 

staunce 

That  ye  shul   dullen  of  the  rude- 

Of  tresour,  may  we  bothe  with  us 

nesse 

lede 

Of     us      sely      Troianes,      but-if 

Y-nough    to    live   in    honour  and 

routhe                                   1490 

plesaunce,                            'S'S 

Remorde   yow,  or   vertue  of  your 

Til    in-to  tyme  that  we  shul   ben 

trouthe. 

dede; 

And  thus  we  may  eschewen  al  this 

214.    And   this   to  me   so  grevous  is  to 

drede. 

thinke. 

For    everich    other    wey    ye    can 

That  fro  my  brest  it  wol  my  soule 

recorde, 

rende; 

Myn    herte,   y-wis,  may  not  ther- 

Ne   dredeles,  in  me  ther  may  not 

with  acorde. 

sinke 

A     good     opinioun,     if    that     ye 

218.    And  hardily,  ne  dredeth  no  pov- 

wende;                                 1495 

erte,                                        1520 

For-why  your  faderes  sleighte  wol 

For  I  have  kin  and  freendes  elles- 

us  shende. 

where 

And  if  ye  goon,  as  I  have  told  yow 

That,    though   we    comen    in   our 

yore, 

bare  sherte, 

IS23-I573-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


329 


Us   sholde  neither   lakke  gold   ne 

222.    And  thou,  Simoys,  that  as  an  arwe 

gere, 

clere 

But  lieen  honoured  whyl  we  dwelt- 

Thorugh  Troye   rennest  ay  down- 

en there. 

ward  to  the  see, 

And  go  we  anoon,  for,  as  in  myn 

Ber  witnesse  of  this  word  that  scyd 

entente,                                 1525 

is  here,                                  1550 

This  is  the  beste,  if  that  ye  wole 

That  thilke  day  that  ich  untrewe  be 

assente.' 

To  Troilus,  myn  owene  herte  free, 

That  thou  retorne  bakwarde  to  thy 

219.    Criseyde,  with  a  syk,  right  in  this 

welle, 

wyse 

And   I  with  body  and  soule  sinke 

Answerde,   'y-wis,  my  dere  herte 

in  helle ! 

trewe. 

We   may  wel    stele    away,   as    ye 

223.    But  that  ye  speke,  awey  thus  for  to 

devyse, 

go                                          1555 

And  (inde  swiche    unthrifty  weyes 

And  leten  alle  your  freendes,  god 

newe;                                     1530 

for-bede. 

But  afterward,  ful   sore   it  wol   us 

For  any  womman,  that  ye  sholden 

rewe. 

so. 

And  help  me  god  so  at  my  moste 

And  namely,  sin  Troye  hath  now 

nede 

swich  nede 

As    causeles    ye    suflfren    al    this 

Of  help;  and  eek  of  0  thing  taketh 

drede ! 

hede, 

If  this  were  wist,   my  lif  laye   in 

220.    For  thilke  day  that  I  for  cherissh- 

balaunce,                              1560 

inge 

And   your   honour;   god  shilde  us 

Or   drede    of    fader,   or    of    other 

fro  mischaunce ! 

wight,                                   1535 

Or   for   estat,    delyt,    or    for   wed- 

224.    And   if  so   be  that  pees  her-after 

dinge 

take, 

Be    fals   to   yow,  my   Troilus,    my 

As    alday    happeth,    after    anger. 

knight. 

game. 

Saturnes  doughter,  luno,    thorugh 

Why,  lord !   the  sorwe  and  wo  ye 

hir  might. 

wolden  make. 

As   wood    as    Athamante    do   me 

That  ye  ne  dorste  come  ayein  for 

dwelle 

shame!                                 1565 

Eternaly    in      Stix,    the    put      of 

And  er  that  ye  luparten  so  your 

helle!                                    1540 

name. 

Beth  nought  to  hasty  in  this  hote 

221.    And     this     on    every    god    celes- 

fare; 

tial 

For   hasty  man  ne  wanteth   never 

I   swere  it  yow,  and  eek  on  eche 

care. 

goddesse, 

On    every   Nymphe  and   deite  in- 

225.   What  trowe  ye   the  peple  eek  al 

fernal, 

aboute 

On    Satiry   and   Fauny   more   and 

Wolde  of  it  seye?     It  is  ful  light  to 

lesse. 

arede.                                   1570 

That  halve  goddes  been  of  wilder- 

They   wolden  seye,   and  swere    it, 

nesse;                                   1545 

out  of  doute. 

And  Attropos  my  threed  of  lyf  to- 

That  love  ne  droof  yow  nought  to 

brcste 

(loon  this  dede. 

If  I  be  fals;   now  trowe  me  if  thow 

But   lust   voluptuous   and    coward 

leste ! 

drede. 

330 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


[1574-1625. 


Thus  were  al  lost,  y-wis,  myn  herte 

dere, 
Your  honour,  which  that  now  shyn- 

eth  so  clere.  1575 

226.  And  also   thenketh   on  myn  hon- 

estee, 
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. 
Ne    though    I    livede    un-to    the 

worldes  ende,  1 580 

My  name  sholde  I  never  ayeinward 

winne; 
Thus  were  I  lost,  and   that   were 

routhe  and  sinne. 

227.  And  for-thy  slee  with  reson  al  this 

hete; 
Men    seyn,    "  the    suffraunt    over- 

cometh,"  pardee; 
Eek  "  who-so  wol  han  leef,  he  leef 

mot  lete  ;  "  1585 

Thus  maketh  vertue  of  necessitee 
By  pacience,  and  thenk  that  lord 

is  he 
Of  fortune  ay,  that  nought  wol  of 

hir  recche; 
And  she  ne  daunteth  no  wight  but 

a  wrecche. 

228.  And  trusteth  this,  that  certes,  herte 

swete,  1590 

Er  Phebus  suster,  Lucina  the  shene, 
The  Leoun  passe  out  of  this  Ariete, 
I   wol    ben   here,   with-outen   any 

wene. 
I  mene,  as  helpe  me  luno,  hevenes 

quene. 
The  tenthe  day,  but-if  that  deeth 

me  assayle,  1595 

I   wol   yow    seen,  with-outen   any 

fayle.' 

229.  'And  now,  so  this  be  sooth,'  quod 

Troilus, 
'  I  shal  wel  suffre  un-to  the  tenthe 

day, 
Sin  that  I  see  that  nede  it  moot  be 

thus. 


But,  for  the  love  of  god,  if  it  be 
may,  1 600 

So  lat  us  stele  prively  away; 

For  ever  in  oon,  as  for  to  live  in 
reste, 

Myn  herte  seyth  that  it  wol  been 
the  beste.' 

230.  '  O  mercy,  god,  what  lyf  is  this  ? ' 

quod  she  ; 
'  Alias,  ye  slee  me  thus  for  verray 

tene !  i 605 

I  see  wel  now  that   ye  mistrusten 

me; 
For  by  your  wordes  it  is  wel  y-sene. 
Now,  for  the  love  of  Cynthia  the 

shene. 
Mistrust  me  not  thus  causeles,  for 

routhe  ; 
Sin  to  be  trewe  I  have  yow  plight 

my  trouthe.  1610 

231.  And  thenketh  wel,  that  som  tyme 

it  is  wit 
To  spende  a  tyme,  a  tyme  for  to 

winne; 
Ne,  pardee,  lorn  am  I  nought  fro 

yow  yit. 
Though  that  we  been  a  day  or  two 

a-twinne. 
Dryf  out  the  fantasyes  yow  with- 

inne ;  1615 

And   trusteth  me,  and  leveth  eek 

your  sorwe. 
Or  here  my  trouthe,  I  wol  not  live 

til  morwe. 

232.  For  if  ye  wiste  how  sore  it  doth  me 

smerte, 
Ye  wolde  cesse  of  this ;    for  god, 

thou  wost. 
The    pure    spirit   wepeth    in   myn 

herte,  1620 

To    see   yow   wepen   that    I    love 

most, 
And  that  I  moot  gon  to  the  Grekes 

ost. 
Ye,  nere  it  that  I  wiste  remedye 
To  come  ayein,  right  here  I  wolde 

dye ! 

233.  But  certes,  I  am   not  so   nyce   a 

wight  1625 


1626-1677-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   IV. 


33^ 


That  I  ne  can  iniaginen  a  way 
To  come  ayein  that  day  that  I  have 

hight. 
I' or  who  may  holde  thing  that  wol 

a- way? 
My  fader  nought,  for  al  his  queynte 

pley. 
And  by  my  thrift,  my  wending  out 

ofTroye  1 630 

Another  day  shal  tome  us  alle  to 

loye. 

234.  For-thy,  with  al  myn  herte  I  yow 

beseke, 
If  that  yow  list  don  ought  for  my 

preyere, 
And  for  the  love  which  that  I  love 

yow  eke, 
That    er    that   I   departe  fro   yow 

here,  1635 

That  of  so  good  a  comfort  and  a 

chere 
I  may  you  seen,  that  ye  may  bringe 

at  reste 
Myn  herte,  which  that  is  at  point 

to  breste. 

235.  And  over  al  this,  I  pray  yow,'  quod 

she  tho, 
'  Myn  owene  hertes  sooth  fast  suffi- 

saunce,  1640 

Sin  I  am  thyn  al  hool,  with-outen 

mo, 
That  whyl  that   I    am    absent,  no 

plesaunce 
Of  othere  do  me  fro  your  remem- 

braunce. 
For  I  am  ever  a-gast,  for-why  men 

rede. 
That  "  love  is  thing  ay  ful  of  bisy 

drede."  1645 

236.  For  in  this  world  ther  liveth  lady 

noon. 
If  that   ye  were    untrewe,  as   god 

defende ! 
That  so  bitraysed  were  or  wo  bigoon 
As   I,    that    alle    trouthe    in    yow 

entende. 
And    douteles,    if    that    ich    other 

wende,  1650 

I  nere  but  deed  ;   and  er  ye  cause 

fmde, 


For  goddes  love,  so   beth    mc   not 
unkinde.' 

237.  To  this  answerde  Troilus  and  scyde, 
'  Now  god,  to  whom  ther   nis   no 

cause  y-wrye. 
Me  glade,  as  wis  I  never  un-to  Cri- 

seyde,  1655 

Sin  thilke  day  I  saw  hir  first  with 

ye. 

Was  fals,  ne  never  shal  til  that  I 

dye. 
At  shorte  wordes,  wel  ye  may  me 

leve; 
I  can  no  more,  it  shal  be  founde  at 

preve.' 

238.  '  Graunt  mercy,  goode  myn,  y-wis,' 

quod  she,  1660 

'And  blisful  Venus  lat  me  never 

sterve 
Er  I  may  stonde  of  plesaunce  in 

degree 
To  quyte  him  wel,  that  so  wel  can 

deserve  ; 
And  whyl  that  god  my  wit  wol  me 

conserve, 
I  shal  so  doon,  so  trewe  I  have  yow 

founde,  1665 

That   ay  honour   to  me-ward  shal 

rebounde. 

239.  For  trusteth  wel,  that   your   estat 

royal 
Ne   veyn   delyt,    nor   only  worthi- 

nesse 
Of  yow  in  werre,  or  torney  marcial 
Ne    pompe,  array,  nobley,  or   eek 

richesse,  1670 

Ne  made  me  to  rewe  on  your  dis- 

tresse  ; 
But  moral  vertue,  grounded  upon 

trouthe. 
That  was  the  cause  I  first  hadde  on 

yow  routhe ! 

240.  Eek  gentil  herte  and  manhod  that 

ye  hadde, 
And  that  ye  hadde,  as  me  thoughte, 

in  despyt  1675 

Every    thing     that     souned     in-to 

badde. 
As  rudenesse  and  poeplish  appetyt; 


'V^^ 


332 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V.       [1678-1701.    1-23, 


.^ 


And  that  your  reson  brydled  your 

delyt, 
This  made,  aboven  every  creature, 
That  I  was  your,  and  shal,  whyl  I 

may  dure.  1680 

241.  And  this  may  lengthe  of  yeres  not 

for-do, 
Ne  remuable  fortune  deface; 
But  luppiter,  that  of  his  might  may 

do 
The  sorwful  to  be  glad,  so  yeve  us 

grace, 
Er  nightes  ten,  to   meten  in  this 

place,  1685 

So  that  it  may  your  herte  and  myn 

suffyse ; 
And  fareth  now  wel,  for  tyme  is  that 

ye  ryse.' 

242.  And  after  that  they  longe  y-pleyned 

hadde. 
And  ofte  y-kist  and  streite  in  armes 
folde, 


The  day  gan  ryse,  and  Troilus  him 

cladde,  1690 

And  rewfulliche  his   lady  gan   bi- 

holde. 
As  he  that  felte  dethes  cares  colde. 
And  to  hir  grace  he  gan  him  reco- 

maunde; 
Wher  him  was  wo,  this  holde  I  no 

demaunde. 

243.    For    mannes    heed    imaginen    ne 

can,  1695 

Ne     entendement     considere,     ne 

tonge    telle 
The  cruel  peynes  of  this   sorwful 

man, 
That  passen  every  torment  doun  in 

helle. 
For  whan    he  saugh  that   she  ne 

mighte  dwelle. 
Which    that   his  soule   out   of  his 

herte  rente,  1700 

With-outen  more,  out  of  the  chaum- 

bre  he  wente. 


Explicit  Liber  Quarius. 


BOOK  V. 


Incipit  Liber  Quintus. 


Aprochen  gan  the  fatal  destinee 
That  loves  hath  in  disposicioun. 
And   to   yow,   angry  Parcas,  sustren 

three, 
Committeth,  to  don  execucioun; 
For  which  Criseyde  moste  out  of  the 

toun,  5 

And    Troilus    shal    dwelle    forth  in 

pyne 
Til   Lachesis   his   threed   no    lenger 

twyne.  — 


2.    The   golden-tressed    Phebus   heighe 

on-lofte 
Thryes   hadde   alle   with   his   hemes 

shene 
The  snowes  molte,  and  Zephirus  as 

ofte  10 

Y-brought    ayein    the    tendre    leves 

grene, 


Sin  that  the  sone  of  Ecuba  the  quene 
Bigan  to  love  hir  first,  for  whom  his 

sorwe 
Was    al,    that    she    departe    sholde 

a-morwe. 

3.  Ful  redy  was  at  pryme  Dyomede,     1 5 
Criseyde  un-to    the    Grekes    ost    to 

lede, 
For  sorwe    of    which   she   felte    hir 

herte  blede. 
As  she   that  niste  what  was  best   to 

rede. 
And  trewely,  as  men  in  bokes  rede, 
Men  wiste  never  womman   han   the 

care,  20 

Ne  was   so   looth  out  of  a   toun   to 

fare. 

4.  This  Troilus,  with-outen  reed  or  lore. 
As  man  that  hath  his  loyes  eek  for- 

lore. 


24-77-] 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


333 


Was  waytiiige  on  his  lady  ever- 
more 

As  she  that  was  the  soollifast  crop 
and  more  25 

Of  al  his  lust,  or  loves  here-tofore. 

Hut  Troilus,  now  farewel  al  thy  loye, 

For  shaltow  never  seen  hir  eft  in 
Troye ! 

5.  Soth    is,    that  whyl    he  bood  in  this 

nianere, 
He   gan    his   wo   ful    manly   for   to 

hyde,      v*'^'"'*^^  3° 

That  wel  unnethe  it  seen  was  in  his 

chere; 
But  at  the  yate  ther  she  sholde  oute 

ryde 
With    certeyn    folk,    he    hoved    hir 

tabyde, 
So  wo   bigoon,    al  wolde  he  nought 

him  pleyne. 
That  on  his  hors  unnethe  he  sat  for 

peyne.  35 

6.  For  ire  he  quook,  so  gan   his  herte 

gnawe, 
Whan    Diomede   on   horse  gan  him 

dresse, 
And   seyde   un-to   him-self  this  ilke 

sawe, 
'  Alias,'  quod  he, '  thus  foul  a  wrecch- 

ednesse 
Why  sufiVe  ich  it,  why  nil  ich  it  re- 

dresse  ?  40 

Were  it  not  bet  at  ones  for  to  dye 
Than  ever-more  in   langour   thus  to 

drye? 

7.  Why  nil  I  make  at   ones  riche  and 

pore 
To  have  y-nough  to  done,  er  that  she 

go? 

Why  nil   I  bringe  al   Troye  upon  a 

\ixO>r  rore?  45 

\         Why  nil  I  sleen  this  Diomede  also? 

Why  nil  I  rather  with  a  man  or  two 

Stele    hir   a-way?     Why   wol   I    this 

endure? 
Why   nil    I    helpen    to    myn   owene 

cure? ' 

8.  But   why   he    nolde    doon   so  fel   a 

dede,  50 


That  shal  1  seyn,  and  why  him  liste 

it  sjiare : 
lie  hadde  in  herte  alwey  a  maner 

drede, 
Lest  that  Criseyde,  in  rumour  of  this 

fare, 
Sholde  han  ben  slayn;   lo,  this  was 

al  his  care. 
And  elles,  certeyn,  as  I  seyde  yore,  55 
He  hailde  it  doon,  with-outen  wordes 

more. 

9.    Criseyde,  whan  she  redy  was  to  ryde, 
Ful  sorwfully  she  sighte,  and  seyde 

*  alias ! ' 
But  forth  she  moot,  for  ought  that 

may  bityde. 
And    forth   she    rit   ful   sorwfully  a 

pas.  60 

Ther  nis  non  other  remedie  in  this 

cas. 
What  wonder  is  though  that  hir  sore 

smerte, 
Whan  she  forgoth  hir  owene  swete 

herte? 

10.  This  Troilus,  in  wyse  of  curteisye. 
With  hauke  on  hond,  and  with  an 

huge  route  65 

Of  knightes,  rood  and  dide  hir  com- 

panye, 
Passinge  al  the  valey  fer  with-oute. 
And    ferther   wolde   han  riden,  out 

of  doute, 
Ful  fayn,  and  wo  was  him  to  goon 

so  sone; 
But  torne  he  moste,  and  it  was  eek 

to  done.  70 

11,  And   right   with  that   was  Antenor 

y-come 
Out   of  the   Grekes  ost,  and  every 

wight 
Was   of  it  glad,  and  seyde  he  was 

wel-come. 
And     Troilus,     al    nere    his    herte 

light, 
He   peyned   him   with   al   his  fulle 

might  75 

Him   to  with-holde    of  wepinge   at 

the  leste. 
And    Antenor  he   kiste,  and    made 

feste. 


334 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[78-130. 


12.    And  ther-with-al  he  moste  his  leve 

That  she  not  wite  as  yet  shal  what 

take, 

I  mene.'                                  105 

And  caste  his  eye  upon  hir  pitously. 

And  neer  he  rood,  his  cause  for  to 

16.    This  Diomede,  as  he  that  coude  his 

make,                                         80 

good. 

To  take  hir  by  the  honde  al  sobrely. 

Whan    this   was    doon,   gan    fallen 

And  lord !    so  she  gan  wepen   ten- 

forth  in  speche 

drely ! 

Of  this   and    that,  and   asked  why 

And   he  ful  softe  and   sleighly  gan 

she  stood 

hir  seye. 

In   swich   disese,    and   gan  hir  eek 

'Now  hold  your  day,  and  dooth  me 

biseche. 

not  to  deye.' 

That  if  that   he  encrese  mighte  or 

eche                                          no 

13.    With    that    his   courser   torned    he 

With    any   thing   hir   ese,  that   she 

a-boute                                       85 

sholde 

With  face  pale,  and  un-to  Diomede 

Comaunde   it    him,   and    seyde   he 

No   word    he   spak,  ne   noon  of  al 

doon  it  wolde. 

his    route ; 

Of  which  the  sone  of  Tydeus  took 

17.    For    trewely    he   swoor    hir,    as  a 

hede. 

knight. 

As   he   that   coude   more    than  the 

That  ther  nas  thing  with  whiche  he 

crede 

mighte  hir  plese, 

In  svvich  a  craft,  and  by  the  reyne 

That  he  nolde  doon  his  peyne  and 

hir  hente;                                   90 

al  his  might                             1 15 

And  Troilus  to  Troye  homwarde  he 

To   doon   it,  for  to  doon  hir  herte 

wente. 

an  ese. 

And    preyede    hir,   she   wolde    hir 

14.    This    Diomede,   that   ladde   hir   by 

sorwe  apese. 

the  brydel. 

And  seyde,  'y-wis,  we  Grekes  con 

Whan  that  he  saw  the  folk  of  Troye 

have  loye 

aweye. 

To  honouren  yow,  as  wel  as  folk  of 

Thoughte,   '  al   my  labour   shal  not 

Troye.' 

been  on  ydel. 

If  that  I  may,  for  somwhat  shal  I 

18.    He  seyde    eek   thus,  *I  woot,  yow 

seye.                                           95 

thinketh  straunge,                   1 20 

For  at  the  worste  it  may  yet  shorte 

No  wonder  is,  for  it  is  to  yow  newe. 

our  weye. 

Thaqueintaunce  of  these  Troianes  to 

I  have  herd  seyd,  eek  tymes  twyes 

chaunge, 

twelve. 

For   folk   of  Grece,  that   ye   never 

"  He  is  a  fool  that  wol  for-yete  him- 

knewe. 

selve." ' 

But  wolde  never  god  but-if  as  trev/e 

A  Greek  ye  shulde  among  us  aUe 

15.    But  natheles    this  thoughte  he  wel 

finde                                         125 

ynough, 

As  any  Troian  is,  and  eek  as  kinde. 

'  That  certaynly  I  am  aboute  nought 

If  that  I  speke  of  love,  or  make  it 

19,    And  by  the  cause  I  swoor  yow  right, 

tough;                                       loi 

lo,  now. 

For   douteles,    if    she   have   in    hir 

To  been  your  freend,  and  helply,  to 

thought 

my  might. 

Him  that  I  gesse,  he  may  not  been 

And    for   that   more   acqueintaunce 

y-brought 

eek  of  yow 

So   sone  awey;   but   I  shal    finde  a 

Have  ich  had  than  another  straunger 

mene, 

wight,                                         130 

I3I-I86.] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


335 


So  fro  this  forth  I  pray  yow,  day  and 

night, 
Coniauiuleth  me,  how  sore  that  me 

smerte, 
To  doon  al  that  may  lyke  un-to  your 

licrte; 

20.  And    that    ye   me   vvolde    as    your 

brother  trete, 
And    taketh   not    my    frendship    in 

despyt;  135 

And    though    your    sorwes   be    for 

thinges  grete, 
Noot  I  not  why,  but  out   of  more 

respyt, 
Myn   herte    hath   for  to  amende  it 

greet  delyt. 
And  if  I  may  your  harmes  not  re- 

dresse,  139 

I  am  right  sory  for  your  hevinesse. 

21.  And    though    ye    Troians  with   us 

Grekes  wrothe 
I  Ian    many   a   day    be,   alwey   yet, 
pardee, 

0  god  of  love  in  sooth  we  serven 

bothe. 
And,  for  the  love  of  god,  my  lady 

free,  >.«XA- 
Whom  so  ye  hate,  as  beth  not  wroth 

with  me.  145 

For  trewely,  ther  can  no  wight  yow 

serve, 
That  half  so   looth    your   wraththe 

wolde  deserve. 

22.  And  nere  it  that  we  been  so  neigh 

the  tente 
Of  Calkas,  which  that  seen  us  bothe 
may, 

1  vvolde  of  this   yow  telle    al    myn 

entente;  150 

But  this  enseled  til  another  day. 
Yeve  me  your  bond,  I  am,  and  shal 

ben  ay, 
God  help  me  so,  whyl  that  my  lyf 

may  dure, 
Your  owene  aboven  every  creature. 

23.  Thus    seyde    I    never    er    now    to 

womman  born;  155 

For  god  myn  herte  as  wisly  glade  so, 
I  lovede  never  womman  hcre-biforn 


As  paramours,  ne  never  shal  no  mo. 
Antl,  for  the  love  of  god,  beth   not 

my  fo ; 
Al  can  I  not  to  yow,  my  lady  dere, 
Compleyne  aright,  for  I  am   yet  to 

lere.  161 

24.  And  wondreth  not,  myn  owene  lady 

bright,- 
Though  that  I  spcke  of  love  to  vfju 

thus  blyve  ; 
For  I  have  herd  or  this  of  many  a 

wight, 
liath  loved   thing  he    never   saugh 

his  lyve.  165 

Eek  I  am  not  of  power  for  to  stryve 
Ayens  the  god  of  love,  but  him  obeye 
I  wol  alwey,  and  mercy  I  yow  preye. 

25.  Ther  been  so  worthy  knightes  in  this 

place 
And  ye  so  fair,  that  everich  of  hem 

alle  170 

Wol  peynen  him  to  stonden  in  your 

grace. 
But  mighte  me  so  fair  a  grace  falle, 
That  ye  me  for  your  servaunt  wolde 

calle. 
So  lowly  ne  so  trewely  you  serve 
Nil    noon    of  hem,  as  I  shal,  til  I 

sterve.'  175 

26.  Criseide     un-to     that     purpos    lyte 

answerde. 
As    she    that   was   with    sorwe    op- 
pressed so 
That,  in  effect,  she  nought  his  tales 

herde. 
But  here  and  there,  now  here  a  wonl 

or  two. 
Ilir  thoughte  hir  sorwful  herte  brast 

a-two.  I  So 

For   whan    she    gan    hir    fader    fcr 

aspye, 
\Vel  neigh  doun  of  hir  hors  she  gan 

to  sye. 

27.  But  natheles  she  thonked  Dioniede 
Of   al   his    travailc,  and    his   goode 

chere. 
And  that  him  liste  his  friendship  hir 

to  bede  ;  185 

And  she  accepteth  it  in  good  manere, 


336 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[187-241. 


And  wolde  do  fayn  that  is  him  leef 

and  dere ; 
And  trusten  him  she  wolde,  and  wel 

she  mighte, 
As  seyde  she,  and  from  hir  hors  she 

alighte. 

28.    Hir   fader   hath    hir    in   his   armes 

nome,  190 

And    tweynty    tyme    he    kiste    his 

doughter  swete, 
And  seyde,  '  O  dere  doughter  myn, 

wel-come ! ' 
She  seyde  eek,  she  was  fayn  with 

him  to  mete, 
And  stood  forth  mewet,  niilde,  and 

mansuete.  »-^?>S>*- 
But  here  I  lev^  hir  with  hir  fader 

dwelle,  195 

And  forth  I  wol  of  Troilus  yow  telle. 


j^ 


29.  To  Troye  is  come  this  woful  Troilus, 
In  sorwe  aboven  alle  sorwes  smerte. 
With  felon  look,  and  face  dispitous. 
Tho  sodeinly  doun  from  his  hors  he 

sterte,  200 

And    thorugh    his    paleys,   with    a 

swollen  herte. 
To  chambre  he  wente ;  of  no-thing 

took  he  hede, 
Ne  noon  to  him  dar  speke  a  word 

for  drede. 

30.  And  there  his  sorwes  that  he  spared 

hadde 
He  yaf  an  issue  large,  and  '  deeth  ! ' 

he  cryde;  2O5 

And   in   his   throwes   frenetyk   and 

madde 
He  cursed  love,  Appollo,  and  eek 

Cupyde, 
He  cursed  Ceres,  Bacus,  and  Cipryde, 
His   burthe,  him-self,  his  fate,  and 

eek  nature. 
And,  save  his  lady,  every  creature. 

31.  To  bedde  he  goth,  and  weyleth  there 

and  torneth  21 1 

In  furie,  as  dooth  he,  Ixion,  in  helle. 
And  in  this  wyse  he  neigh  til  day 

soiorneth. 
But  tho  bigan  his  herte  a  lyte  un- 

swelle 


Thorugh  teres  which  that  gonnen  up 
to  welle;  215 

And  pitously  he  cryde  up-on  Cri- 
seyde. 

And  to  him-self  right  thus  he  spak, 
and  seyde :  — 

32.  '  Wher  is  myn  owene  lady  lief  and 

dere, 

Wher  is  hir  whyte  brest,  wher  is  it, 
where? 

Wher  ben  hir  armes  and  hir  eyen 
clere,  220 

That  yesternight  this  tyme  with  me 
were? 

Now  may  I  wepe  allone  many  a  tere, 

And  graspe  aboute  I  may,  but  in  this 
place. 

Save  a  pilowe,  I  finde  nought  ten- 
brace. 

33.  How  shal  I   do?     Whan   shal   she 

com  ayeyn?  225 

I  noot,  alias !  why  leet  ich  hir  to  go? 
As  wolde  god,  ich  hadde  as  tho  be 

sleyn? 
O  herte  myn,  Criseyde,  O  swete  fo ! 
O  lady  myn,  that  I  love  and  no  mo  ! 
To  whom  for  ever-mo  myn  herte  I 

dowe ;  230 

See   how    I    deye,   ye    nil    me    not 

rescowe ! 

34.  Who  seeth  yow  now,  my  righte  lode- 

sterre? 
Who  sit  right  now  or  stant  in  your 

presence? 
Who  can  conforten  now  your  hertes 

werre  ? 
Now    I    am    gon,   whom    yeve    ye 

audience?  235 

Who  speketh  for  me  right  now  in 

myn  absence? 
Alias,  no  wight;    and  that  is  al  my 

care; 
For  wel  wot  I,  as  yvel  as  I  ye  fare. 

35.  How  shulde  I  thus  ten  dayes  ful  en- 

dure. 
Whan  I  the  firste  night  have  al  this 

tene?  240 

How   shal    she    doon    eek,   sorwful 

creature  ? 


242-293.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


337 


For  tendernesse,  how  shal  she  this 

His    wo,    his    pleynte,    his    langnur, 

sustcne, 

and   his  pyne? 

Swich  wo  for  me?     C)  pitous,  pale, 

Nought    al    the   men     tlial    lian    or 

and  grene 

been  on-lyve. 

Shal  been  your  fresshe  woniniaiilichc 

Thou,  redere,  mayst  thy-sclf  ful  wcl 

face 

devyne                                        270 

For  langour,  cr  ye  tome  un-to  this 

That    swich    a  wo   my  wit    can  not 

place.'                                      245 

defyne. 
On  ydel    for    to    wryte    it    sholde  I 

36. 

And    whan    he    fil    in    any    slonier- 

swinke. 

ingfs, 

Whan    that    my    wit    is   wery    it    to 

Anoon    biginne    he    sholde    for    to 

thinke. 

grone, 

And    dremen    of    the    dredfulleste 

40.    On    hevene    yet    the    sterres  were 

thinges 

sene. 

That    mighte    been;     as,    mete    he 

Al-though  ful  pale  y-waxen  was  the 

were  allone 

mone;                                           275 

In   place    horrible,  makinge    ay  his 

And     whyten     gan     the      orisonte 

mone,                                         250 

shene 

Or  meten  that  he  was  amonges  alle 

Al  estward,  as  it  woned  is  to  done. 

His    enemys,    and    in    hir    hondes 

And     I'hebus    witli    his    rosy    carte 

falle. 

sone 
Gan  after  that  to  dresse  him  up  to 

37- 

And   ther-with-al    his   body   sholde 

fare. 

sterte, 

Whan  Troilus  hath  sent  after  Pan- 

And  with    the   stert   al   sodeinliche 

dare.                                           280 

awake, 

And    swich    a   tremour    fele  aboute 

41.    This    Pan  dare,    that    of   al    the  day 

his  herte,                                   255 

biforn 

That   of  the    feer    his  body  sholde 

Ne  mighte   have  comen  Troilus   to 

quake; 

see. 

And  there-\vith-al  he  sholde  a  noyse 

Al-though  he  on  his  heed  it  hadde 

make, 

y-sworn, 

And  seme  as  though  he  sholde  falle 

For  with  the  king  Pryam  alclav  was 

depe 

he, 

From  heighe  a-lofte;   and   than  he 

So  that  it  lay  not  in  his  lil)ertee    2S5 

wolde  wepe, 

No-wher  to  gon,  but  on  the  morwe 
he  wente 

38. 

And    revven    on     him-self    so    pit- 

To   Troilus,  whan  that  he  for  him 

ously,                                        260 

sente. 

That  wonder    was    to  here  his  fan- 

tasye. 

42.    For  in  his  herte  he  coude  wel  de- 

Another   tyme    he    sholde    mightily 

vyne. 

Conforte  hini-self,    and  seyn  it  was 

That    Troilus    al    night     for    sorwe 

folye. 

wook ; 

So  causeles  swich  drede  for  to  drye. 

And  that  he  wolde  telle  him  of  his 

And    eft    biginne    his    aspre  sorwes 

pyne,                                        290 

newe,                                        265 

This   knew   he  wel   y-nough,  with- 

That    every    man     mighte    on    his 

oute  book. 

sorwes  rewe. 

For  which  to  chaumbre  streight  the 
wey  he  took, 

39- 

Who  coude  telle  aright  or  ful   dis- 

And     Troilus     tho     sobreliche    he 

cryve 

grette, 

338 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[294-346. 


And    on    the    bed    ful  sone  he  gan 
him  sette. 

43.  '  My  Pandarus,'  quod  Troilus,  '  the 

sorwe  295 

Which  that  I  drye,  I  may  not  longe 

endure. 
I    trowe    I   shal    not    liven   til   to- 

morwe ; 
For    whiche     I    wolde    alwey,    on 

aventure, 
To  thee  devysen  of  my  sepulture 
The  forme,  and  of  my  moeble  thou 

dispone  300 

Right  as  thee  semeth  best  is  for  to 

done. 

44.  But  of  the  fyr  and  flaumbe  funeral 
In  whiche  my  body  brenne  shal  to 

glede,  J5)>*-~-fi.*-«->-i 
And   of  the    feste  and   pleyes   pal- 

estral^lUU)X« 
At  my  vigile,  I  pray  thee  take  good 

hede  305 

That  al  be  wel;   and  offre  Mars  my 

stede, 
My    swerd,    myn    helm,    and,    leve 

brother  dere, 
My  sheld  to  Pallas  yef,  that  shyneth 

clere. 

45.  The    poudre    in   which    myn   herte 

y-brend  shal  tome, 
That  preye  I  thee  thou  take  and  it 

conserve  310 

In   a   vessel,   that   men  clepeth   an 

urne. 
Of    gold,   and    to   my   lady   that    I 

serve, 
For   love   of  whom  thus  pitously  I 

sterve. 
So   yeve    it    hir,    and   do   me    this 

plesaunce. 
To  preye  hir  kepe  it  for  a  remem- 

braunce.  315 

46.  For  wel  I  fele,  by  my  maladye. 
And   by  my  dremes  now  and   yore 

ago, 
Al  certeinly,  that  I  mot  nedes  dye. 
The   owle    eek,   which    that    hight 

Ascaphilo, 
Hath    after   me   shright    alle    thise 

nightes  two.  320 


47- 


48. 


49. 


50- 


And,    god    Mercuric !     of  me   now, 

woful  wrecche. 
The  soule  gyde,  and,  whan  thee  list, 

it  fecche  !  ' 

Pandare      answerde,      and     seyde, 

'Troilus, 
My  dere  freend,  as  I  have  told  thee 

yore. 
That    it    is    folye    for    to    sorwen 

thus,  325 

And    causeles,    for    whiche    I    can 

no-more. 
But  who-so  wol  not  trowen  reed  ne 

lore, 
I   can  not  seen  in  him  no  remedye. 
But  lete  him  worthen  with  his  fan- 

tasye. 

But    Troilus,   I    pray  thee   tel   me 

now,  330 

If  that  thou  trowe,  er  this,  that  any 

wight 
Hath    loved    paramours   as   wel   as 

thou? 
Ye,  god  wot,  and  fro  many  a  worthy 

knight 
Hath    his    lady  goon  a  fourtenight, 
And  he  not  yet  made  halvendel  the 

fare.  335 

What  nede  is  thee  to  maken  al  this 

care? 

Sin    day   by   day   thou   mayst   thy- 

selven  see 
That   from   his   love,   or  elles  from 

his  wyf, 
A  man  mot  twinnen  of  necessitee. 
Ye,  though  he  love  hir  as  his  owene 

lyf;  340 

Yet     nil     he    with     him-self    thus 

maken  stryf. 
For  wel  thow  wost,  my  leve  brother 

dere, 
That    alwey   freendes   may   nought 

been  y-fere. 

How  doon  this  folk    that    seen  hir 

loves  wedded 
By  freendes    might,  as  it    bi-tit    ful 

ofte,  345 

And   seen   hem  in  hir  spouses  bed 

y-bedded? 


347-398.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


339 


God  woot,  tliev  take  it  wysly,  faire 

and  softe. 
For-vvhy    good    hope    liall    up    liir 

herte  on-lofte, 
And  for  they  can  a  tyme  of  sorwe 

endure; 
As   tyme   hem   hurt,   a   tyme    doth 

hem  cure.  350 

51.  So    sholdestow    endure,    and     late 

slyde 
The    tyme,  and   fonde  to  hen  glad 

antl  light. 
Ten  dayes  nis  so  longe  not  tabyde. 
And   sin  she  thee    to   comen    hath 

bihight, 
She  nil    hir   hestes   breken   for   no 

wight.  355 

For    dred    thee    not    that    she    nil 

finden  weye 
To   come  ayein,  my  lyf  that  dorste 

I  leye. 

52.  Thy  swevenes  eek  and  al  swich  fan- 

tasye 
Dryf    out,    and    lat    hem  faren   to 

mischaunce; 
For    they   procede    of    thy    nialen- 

colye,  360 

That  doth  thee  fele  in  sleep  al  this 

penaunce, 
A   straw  for   alle   swevenes   signifi- 

aunce ! 
God  helpe  me  so,  I  counte  hem  not 

a  bene, 
Ther    woot    no    man    aright    what 

dremes  mene. 

53.  For   prestes   of    the    temple    tellen 

this,  365 

That  dremes  been  the  revelaciouns 
Of  goddes,   and  as  wel   they  telle, 

y-wis, 
That  they  lien  infernals  illusiouns; 
And    leches  seyn,  that  of  complex- 

iouns 
Proceden    they,    or    fast,    or    glot- 

onye.  370 

Who  woot  in  sooth  thus  what  they 

signifye? 

54.  Eek    othere  seyn  that   thorugh  im- 

pressiouns, 


As  if  a  wight  hath   faste  a  thing  in 

mindc. 
That   ther-of    cometh    swiche    avi- 

siouns; 
And  othere  seyn,  as  they  in  bokes 

finde,  375 

That,  after    tymes   of  the   yecr    by 

kinde, 
Men  dreme,  and  that  thcffect  guth 

by  the  nione; 
But  leve  no  dreem,  for  it  is  nought 

to  done. 

55.  Wel  worth  of  dremes  ay  thise  olde 

wyves, 
And  treweliche  eek  augurie  of  thise 

foules ;  3S0 

For  fere  of  which  men  wenen  lese 

her  lyves. 
As   ravenes   qualm,  or  shryking   of 

thise  oules. 
To  trowen  on  it  bothe  fals  and  foul 

is. 
Alias,  alias,  so  noble  a  creature 
As    is    a    man,    shal    drede    swich 

ordure !  385 

56.  For  which  with  al  myn  herte  I  thee 

beseche, 
Un-to  thy-self  that  al  this  thou  for- 

yive ; 
And   rys    up    now   with-oute   more 

speche. 
And  lat  us  caste  how  forth  may  best 

be  drive 
This  tyme,  and  eek  how  freshly  we 

may  live  390 

Whan  that   she  cometh,  the  which 

shal  be  right  sone; 
God  help  me  so,  the  beste  is  thus  to 

done. 

57.  Rys,  lat    us  speke  of    lusty  lyf  in 

Troye 
That  we  han  lad,  and  forth  the  tyme 

dryve; 
And  eek  of  tyme  cominge  us  reioye. 
That  bringen  shal  our  blisse  now  so 

bly  ve ;  396 

And  langour  of  these   twyes  dayes 

fyve 
We   shal    ther-with    so    foryete   or 

oppresse, 


340 


TROILUS    AND    CRISEYUE.     BOOK    V. 


[399-455- 


That  wel  unnethe  it   doon  shal  us 
duresse. 

58.  This  toun  is  ful  of  lordes  al  abuute, 
And    trewes    lasten    al    this    mene 

whyle.  401 

Go  we  pleye  us  in  som  lusty  route 
To  Sarpedon,not  hennes  but  a  myle. 
And    thus  thou  shalt  the  tynie  wel 

bigyle, 
And  dryve  it  forth  un-to  that  blisful 

morwe,  405 

That  thou  hir  see,  that  cause  is  of 

thy  sorwe. 

59.  Now  rys,  my  dere  brother  Troilus; 
For  certes,  it  noon  honour  is  to  thee 
To  wepe,  and  in  thy  bed  to  iouken 

thus. 
For  trewely,  of  o  thing  trust  to  me, 
If  thou  thus  ligge  a  day,  or  two,  or 

three,  411 

The   folk  wol  wene   that   thou,   for 

cowardyse, 
Thee    feynest   syk,   and    that    thou 

darst  not  ryse.' 

60.  This   Troilus  answerde,  '  O  brother 

dere. 
This  knowen  folk  that  han  y-suffred 

peyne,  415 

That    though   he   wepe   and   make 

sorvvful  chere. 
That  feleth  harm  and  smert  in  every 

veyne. 
No  wonder  is;    and  though  I  ever 

pleyne. 
Or   alwey  wepe,  I  am  no-thing   to 

blame. 
Sin  I  have  lost  the  cause  of  al  my 

game.  420 

61.  But  sin  of  fyne  force  I  moot  aryse, 

I  shal  aryse,  as  sone  as  ever  I  may  ; 
And    god,    to    whom    myn    herte    I 

sacrifyse, 
So  sende  us  hastely  the  tenthe  day  ! 
For  was  ther  never  fowl  so  fayn  of 

May,  425 

As    I    shal    been,    whan    that    she 

Cometh  in  Troye, 
That  cause  is  of  my  torment  and  my 

loye. 


62.  But  whider  is  thy  reed,'  quod  Troilus, 
'  That  we  may  pleye  us  t)est  in  al  this 

toun  ? ' 
By  god,  my  conseil  is,'  quod  Pan- 

darus,  430 

'To  ryde    and    pleye  us  with    king 

Sarpedoun.' 
So  longe  of  this  they  speken  up  and 

doun. 
Til  Troilus  gan  at  the  laste  assente 
To   ryse,   and    forth    to    Sarpedoun 

they  wente. 

63.  This  Sarpedoun,  as  he  that  honour- 

able 435 

Was  ever  his  lyve,  and  ful  of  heigh 

prowesse. 
With  al  that  mighte  y-served  been 

on  table. 
That  deyntee  was,  al  coste  it  greet 

richesse. 
He    fedde    hem    day   by   day,    that 

svvich  noblesse, 
As  seyden  bothe  the  moste  and  eek 

the  leste,  440 

Was  never  er  that  day  wist  at  any 

feste. 

64.  Nor  in  this  world  ther  is  non  instru- 

ment 
Delicious,  through  wind,  or  touche, 

or  corde. 
As  fer  as  any  wight  hath  ever  y-went, 
That  tonge  telle  or  herte  may  re- 

corde,  445 

That  at  that  feste  it   nas  wel  herd 

acorde  ; 
Ne   of  ladies   eek   so   fayr  a  com- 

panye 
On  daunce,  er  tho,  was  never  y-seyn 

with  ye. 

65.  But  what  avayleth  this  to  Troilus, 
That   for    his  sorwe  no-thing  of  it 

roughte?  450 

For  ever  in  oon  his  herte  pietous 
Ful  bisily  Criseyde  his  lady  soughte. 
On  hir  was  ever  al  that   his  herte 

thoughte. 
Now  this,  now  that,  so  faste  imagin- 

inge. 
That  glade,  y-wis,  can  him  no  festey- 

inge.  455 


456-510.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


341 


66.  These  ladies  eek   that  at  this   feste 

been, 
Sin  that  he  saw  his  lady  was  a-weye, 
It  was  his  sorwe  upon  hem  for   to 

seen, 
Or   for  to   here    on    inslrumentz    so 

pleye. 
For  siie,  that  of  his  herte  berth   the 

keye,  460 

Was  absent,  lo,  this  was   his   fan- 

tasye. 
That  no  wight  sholde  make  melodye. 

67.  Nor  ther  nas  houre  in  al  the  day  or 

night, 
Whan    he    was    ther-as    no    wight 

mighte  him  here, 
That  he  ne  seyde,  '  O  lufsom  lady 

bright,  465 

How  have  ye  faren,  sin  that  ye  were 

here? 
Wel-come,   y-wis,  myn  owene  lady 

dere,' 
But  welaway,  al  this  nas  but  a  mase; 
Fortune  his  howve  entended  bet  to 

glase.        Co-)^— 

68.  The  lettres   eek,  that   she   of  olde 

tyme  470 

Hadde  him  y-sent,  he  wolde  allone 

rede, 
An   hundred   sythe,  a-twixen   noon 

and  prynie; 
Refiguringe   hir   shap,   hir  woman- 

hcde, 
With-inne  his  herte,  and  every  word 

and  dede 
That  passed  was,  and  thus  he  droof 

to  an  ende  475 

The  ferthe  day,  and  seyde,  he  wolde 

wende. 

69.  And  seyde,  'leve  brother  Pandarus, 
Intendestow  that  we  shul  here  bleve 
Til  Sarpedoun  wol    forth  congeyen 

us? 
Yet  were  it  fairer  that  we  toke  our 

leve.  4S0 

For  goddes  love,  lat  us  now  sone  at 

eve 
Our  leve  take,  and  homward  lat  us 

tome  ; 
For  trewely,  I  nil  not  thus  soiornc' 


70.  I'andare    answerde,  '  be    we    conien 

hider 
To  fecchen   fyr,  and    rennen    hoom 

ayeyn  ?  485 

God  helpe  me  so,  I  can  not  tellen 

whider 
We  mighten  goon,  if  I  shal  sootlily 

seyn, 
Ther  any  wight  is  of  us  more  fayn 
Than  Sarpedoun;    and  if  we  hennes 

hye 
Thus  sodeinly,  I  hokle  it  vilanye, 

71.  Sin  that  we  sgj'den  that  we  wcjlde 

bleye  ^  Ux»A  491 

With  him  a  wouke;    and  now,  thus 

sodeinly. 
The  ferthe  day  to  take  of  him  our 

leve, 
He  wolde  wondren  on  it,  trewely  ! 
Lat     us     holde    forth    our    purpos 

fermely;  495 

And  sin  that   ye  bihighten  him  to 

byde, 
Hold  forward  now,  and  after  lat  us 

ryde.' 

72.  Thus  Pandarus,  with  alle  peyne  and 

wo. 
Made  him  to  dwelle;     and    at    the 

woukes  ende, 
Of  Sarpedoun    they    toke   hir    leve 

tho,  500 

And  on  hir  wey  they  spedden  hem 

to  wende. 
Quod  Troilus,  '  now  god   me  grace 

sende. 
That    I  may    finden,    at    myn    hom- 

cominge, 
Criseyde     comen !  '     and    ther-with 

gan  he  singe. 

73.  '  Ye,     hasel-wode  ! '    thoughte    this 

Pandare,  505 

And     to     him-self    ful    softely    he 

seyde,  (i.-»-^ 

'  God  woot,  refreyden  may  this  bote 

fare 
Er  Calkas  sende  Troilus  Criseyde! ' 
But    natheles,    he    laped    thus,  and 

seyde, 
And  swor,  y-wis,  his  herte  him  wel 

bihighte,  310 


342 

TROILUS   AND   CR 

ISEYDE.     BOOK   V.                 [511-561. 

She  wolde   come   as   sone   as   ever 

For  which  with  chaunged  deedlich 

she  mighte. 

pale  face, 
With-outen  word,  he  forth  bigan  to 

74- 

Whan    they  un-to   the  paleys  were 

pace; 

y-comen 

And,  as  god  wolde,  he  gan  so  faste 

Of    Troilus,    they     doun    of    hors 

ryde. 

ahghte, 

That  no  wight  of  his  contenaunce 

And  to  the  chambre    hir  wey  than 

aspyde. 

han  they  nomen. 

And    in-to    tyme    that    it    gan    to 

78. 

Than  seyde  he  thus,  '  0  paleys  des- 

nighte,                                     515 

olat,                                          540 

They      spaken     of      Criseyde     the 

0    hous,    of    houses  whylom    best 

brighte. 

y-hight. 

And  after  this,  whan  that  hem  bothe 

0  paleys  empty  and  disconsolat. 

leste, 

0    thou   lanterne,  of  which    queynt 

They  spedde  hem  fro  the  soper  un- 

is the  light, 

to  reste. 

0   paleys,   whylom    day,   that   now 
art  night. 

75- 

On  morwe,  as  sone  as  day  bigan  to 

Wei  oughtestovv  to  falle,   and   I  to 

clere, 

dye,                                             545 

This  Troilus  gan  of  his  sleep   tab- 

Sin  she  is  went  that  wont  was  us  to 

reyde,                                       520 

gye! 

And  to  Pandare,  his  owene  brother 

dere, 

79- 

0  paleys,  whylom  croune  of  houses 

'For   love   of  god,'  ful  pitously  he 

alle, 

seyde, 

Enlumined     with     sonne     of     alle 

'As  go  we  seen  the  paleys  of  Cri- 

blisse ! 

seyde  ; 

0  ring,  fro  which  the  ruby  is  out- 

For   sin  we  yet   may  have   namore 

falle, 

feste, 

0  cause  of  wo,  that  cause-hast  been 
oflisse!    ^JLm^V*'*^      550 

So   lat   us   seen    hir   paleys   at   the 

leste.'                                        525 

Yet,  sin  I  may  no  bet,  fayn  wolde 
I  kisse 

76. 

And  ther-with-al,  his  meyne  for  to 

Thy  colde  dores,  dorste   I    for  this 

blende, 

route; 

A  cause  he  fond  in  toune  for  to  go. 

And  fare-wel  shryne,  of  which  the 

And  to  Criseydes  hous  they  gonnen 

seynt  is  oute  ! ' 

wende. 

But    lord !    this    sely    Troilus    was 

80. 

Ther-with  he  caste  on  Pandarus  his  ye 

wo! 

With  chaunged  face,  and  pitous  to 

Him   thoughte   his   sorweful    herte 

biholde;                                     555 

braste  a-two.                           530 

And    whan    he    mighte     his    tyme 

For  whan  he  saugh  hir  dores  sperred 

aright  aspye. 

alle, 

Ay  as  he  rood,  to  Pandarus  he  tolde 

Wei  neigh  for  sorwe  a-doun  he  gan 

His  newe  sorwe,  and  eek  his  loyes 

to  falle. 

olde. 
So   pitously   and   with   so   dede  an 

77- 

Therwith  whan  he  was  war  and  gan 

hewe. 

biholde 

That    every    wight    mighte    on    his 

How  shet  was  every  windowe  of  the 

sorwe  rewe.                              560 

place. 

As  frost,    him    thoughte,    his    herte 

8i. 

Fro  thennesforth  he  rydeth  up  and 

gan  to  colde;                          535 

doun. 

562-612.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


343 


■And    every  thing    cum    iiim    to    re- 

What  loye  hastow  thyn  owene  folk 

menibraunce 

to  spille? 

As   lie  rood  forth  by  places  of  the 

toun 

85- 

Wel   hastow,  lord,  y-wroke    on    me 

In  whiche  he  whylom  hadde  al  his 

thyn  ire, 

plesauncc. 

Thou  nii.L;hty  god,  and    dredful    for 

'  Lo,  yond  saugh  1  myn  owene  lady 

to  grcve  !                                   590 

daunce;                                      565 

Now  mercy,  lortl,  thou  wost  wel   I 

And  in  that  temple,  with  hir  eycn 

desire 

clere, 

Thy  grace  most,  of  alle  lustes  leve. 

Me   caughte    first    my   righte    lady 

And    live    and   deye   I    wol   in  thy 

dere. 

bileve; 
For  which    I    naxe  in  guerdon   but 

82.    And  yonder  have  I  herd  ful  lustily 

a  bone, 

My  dere  herte  laughe,  and  yonder 

That  thou  Criseyde  ayein  me  sende 

pleye 

sone.                                         595 

Saugh    I    hir    ones    cek    ful    blis- 

fully.                                         570 

86. 

Distreyne    hir     herte    as    faste    to 

And   yonder   ones   to   me   gan  she 

retorne 

seye, 

As  thou  dost  myn  to  longen  hir  to 

"  Now  goode  swete,  love  me  wel,  I 

see; 

preye." 

Than  woot  I  wel,  that  she  nil   not 

And   yond  so   goodly  gan   she    me 

soiorne. 

biholde, 

Now,  blisful  lord,  so  cruel  thou  ne 

That  to  the   deeth  myn  herte  is  to 

be 

hir  holde. 

Un-to  the  blood  of  Troye,  I  preye 
thee,                                           600 

83.    And  at  that  corner,  in  the   yonder 

As  luno  was  un-to  the  blood  The- 

hous,                                         575 

bane, 

Herde  I  myn  alderlevest  lady  dere 

For    which     the    folk     of    The!)es 

So    wommanly,    with    voys    melodi- 

caughte hir  bane.' 

ous, 
Singen   so   wel,  so   goodly,  and  so 

87. 

And    after    this    he    to    the    yates 

clere, 

wente 

That  in  my  soule  yet  me  thinketh  I 

Ther-as    Criseyde    out-rood    a     ful 

here 

good  paas, 

The  blisful  soun;   and,  in  that  yon- 

And   up    and    doun    ther    made    he 

der  place,                                5S0 

many  a  wente,                        605 

My   lady   first   me    took    un-to    hir 

And    to  him-self   ful   ofte  he  seyde 

grace.' 

'  alias ! 
From    hennes    rood    my    blisse  and 

84.    Thanne  thoughte  he  thus,  '  0  blis- 

my solas ! 

ful  lord  Cupyde, 

As    vvolde    blisful   god  now,  for  his 

^Vhanne    I    the  proces  have  in  my 

loye, 

memorie. 

I  mighte  hir  seen  ayein  come  iii-lo 

How   thou    me   hast   werreyed    on 

Troye. 

every  syde, 

Men  mighte  a  book  make  of  it,  lyk 

88. 

And  to  the  yonder  hille  I  gan  hir 

a  storie.                                     585 

gyde,                                           610 

What   nede  is  thee  to  seke  on  me 

Alias !  and  there  I  took  of  hir  my 

victorie. 

leve  ! 

Sin  I   am   thyn,  and  hoolly  at  thy 

And  yond  I  saugh  hir  to  hir  fader 

wille? 

ryde, 

344 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[613-665. 


P'or  sorwe  of  which  myn  herte  shal 

to-cleve. 
And    hider    hoom    I    com    whan    it 

was  eve; 
And    here    I    dwelle    out-cast    from 

alle  loye,  615 

And  shal,  til  I  may  seen  hir   eft  in 

Troye.' 

89.  And  of  him-self  imagined  he  ofte 
To  ben  defet,  and  pale,  and  waxen 

lesse 
Than  he   was  wont,  and   that  men 

seyde  softe, 
'What    may   it    be?   who   can   the 

sothe  gesse  620 

Why    Troilus    hath    al    this    hevi- 

nesse? ' 
And  al  this  nas  but  his  malencolye, 
That   he   hadde    of  him-self  swich 

fantasye. 

90.  Another  tyme  imaginen  he  wolde 
That  every  wight  that  wente  by  the 

weye  625 

Had  of  him  routhe,  and  that  they 

seyen  sholcle, 
'  I  am  right  sory  Troilus  wol  deye.' 
And  thus  he  droof  a  day  yet  forth  or 

tweye. 
As  ye  have  herd,  swich  lyf  right  gan 

he  lede. 
As  he  that  stood  bitwixen  hope  and 

drede.  630 

91.  For  which  him  lyked  in  his  songes 

shewe 
Thencheson  of  his  wo,  as  he  best 

mighte. 
And  make  a  song  of  wordes  but  a 

fewe, 
Somwhat    his   woful    herte    for    to 

lighte. 
And  whan  he  was  from  every  mannes 

sighte,  635 

With  softe  voys  he,  of  his  lady  dere, 
That  was  absent,  gan  singe  as    ye 

may  here. 

92.  '  O  sterre,  of  which  I  lost  have  al  the 

light, 
With  herte  soor  wel  oughte  I  to  be- 
wayle. 


That  ever  derk  in  torment,  night  by 

night,  640 

Toward  my  deeth  with  wind  in  stere 

I  sayle; 
For  which  the  tenthe  night  if  that  I 

fayle 
The  gyding  of  thy  hemes  brighte  an 

houre, 
My  ship  and  me  Caribdis  wol  de- 

voure.' 

93.  This   song   when    he    thus    songen 

hadde,  sone  645 

He  fil  ayein  in-to  his  sykes  olde; 

And  every  night,  as  was  his  wone  to 
done, 

He  stood  the  brighte  mone  to  be- 
hold e. 

And  al  his  sorwe  he  to  the  mone 
tolde; 

And  seyde,  '  y-wis,  whan  thou  art 
horned  newe,  650 

I  shal  be  glad,  if  al  the  world  be 
trewe ! 

94.  I  saugh  thyn  homes  olde  eek  by  the 

morwe. 
Whan  hennes  rood  my  righte  lady 

dere, 
That  cause  is  of  my  torment  and  my 

sorwe; 
For  whiche,  O  brighte   Lucina  the 

clere,  655 

For  love  of  god,  ren  faste  aboute  thy 

spere ! 
For  whan  thyn  homes  newe  ginne 

springe, 
Than  shal  she  come,  that  may  my 

blisse  bringe ! ' 

95.  The  day  is  more,  and  lenger  every 

night. 
Than    they   be    wont    to    be,   him 

thoughte  tho;  660 

And  that  the  Sonne  wente  his  course 

unright 
By  lenger  wey  than  it  was  wont  to  go ; 
And  seyde,  '  y-wis,  me  dredeth  ever 

mo, 
The   sonnes   sone,  Pheton,  be   on- 

lyve. 
And   that   his   fadres  cart  amis   he 

dryve.'  665 


666-720.] 


TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


345 


96. 

Upon  the  walles  faste  eek  wolde  he 

i(X).    My  fader    nil  for  no-thing  do  me 

walke, 

grace 

And  on  the  drakes  ost  he  wolde  see, 

To  goon   ayein,  for  nought  I  can 

And  to  him-self  right  thus  he  wolde 

him  queme;                            695 

talke, 

And  if  so  be  that  I  my  terme  passe, 

*  Lo,  yonder  is  myn  owene  lady  free, 

My  Troilus  shal  in  his  herte  deme 

Or  elles  yonder,  ther  tho  tentes  be ! 

That  I  am  fals,  and  so  it  may  wel 

And  thennes  comth  this  eyr,  that  is 

seme. 

so  sote,                                     671 

Thus  shal  I  have  unthank  on  every 

That  in  my  soule  I  fele  it  doth  me 

syde; 

bote. 

That  I  was  born,  so  weylawey  the 
tyde !                                      700 

97- 

Ant!    hardely   this  wind,  that    more 

and  more 

lOl.    And  if  that  I  me  putte  in  lupartye. 

Thus  stoundemele  encreseth  in  my 

To  stele  awey  by  nighte,  and  it  bi- 

face. 

falle 

Is  of  my  ladyes  depe  sykes  sore.  675 

That  I  be  caught,  I  shal  be  holde 

I  preve  it    thus,  for  in   non   othere 

a  spye; 

place 

Or  elles,  lo,  this  drede  I  most  of 

Of  al  this  toun,  save  onliche  in  this 

alle. 

space, 

If  in  the  hondes  of  som  wrecche  I 

Fele  I  no  wind  that  soundeth  so  lyk 

falle,                                       705 

peyne; 

I   am   but    lost,  al    be   myn   herte 

It  seyth,  "  alias  !  why  twinned  be  we 

trewe ; 

tweyne? '" 

Now  mighty  god,  thou  on  my  sorwe 
rewe !  ' 

98. 

This   longe  tyme  he  dryveth    forth 

right  thus,                                  6S0 

102.    Ful  pale  y-waxen  was  hir  brighte 

Til    fully    passed    was    the    nynthe 

face. 

night; 

Hir  limes  lene,  as  she  that  al  the 

And  ay  bi-syde  him  was  this  Pan- 

day 

darus. 

Stood  whan  she  dorste,  and  loked 

That  bisily  dide  alle  his  fulle  might 

on  the  place                         710 

Him  to  comforte,  and  make  his  herte 

Ther  she  was  born,  and   ther  she 

light; 

dwelt  hadde  ay. 

Yevinge  him  hope  ahvey,  the  tenthe 

And  al   the  night  wepinge,  alias ! 

morwe                                      685 

she  lay. 

That  she  shal  come,  and  stinten  al 

And    thus    despeired,  out    of   alle 

his  sorwe. 

cure. 
She  ladde  hir  lyf,  this  woful  crea- 

99- 

Up-on  that  other  syde  eek  was  Cri- 
seyde, 

ture. 

With   wommen    fewe,    among    the 

103.    Ful  ofte  a  day  she  sighte  eek  for 

Grekes  stronge; 

destresse,                                 715 

For  which  ful  ofte  a  day  '  alias ! '  she 

And  in  hir-self  she  wente  ay  por- 

seyde, 

trayinge 

'That  I  was  born!     Wei  may  myn 

Of  Troilus  the  grete  worthinesse. 

herte  longe                             690 

And  alle  his  goodly  wordes  record- 

After  my  deeth;    for  now  live  I  to 

inge 

longe  ! 

Sin  first  that  day  hir  love  bigan  to 

Alias  !  and  I  ne  may  it  not  amende ; 

springe. 

For    now  is  wors   than   ever   yet   1 

And  thus  she  sette  hir  woful  herte 

wende. 

a-fyre                                        720 

346 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[721-773. 


Thorugh  reniembraunce  of  that  she 

And  present  tyme  eek  coude  I  wel 

gan  desyre. 

y-see. 
But   futur   tyme,  er  I  was   in   the 

104.    In  al  this  world  ther  nis  so  cruel 

snare. 

herte 

Coude    I  not    seen;     that    causeth 

That  hir  hadde  herd  compleynen  in 

now  my  care. 

hir  sorwe, 

That    nolde    han   wopen    for    hir 

108. 

But  natheles,  bityde  what  bityde. 

peynes  smerte. 

I  shal  to-morwe  at  night,  by  est  or 

So    tendrely  she  weep,   bothe  eve 

weste,                                       751 

and  morwe.                            725 

Out  of  this  ost  stele  on  som  maner 

Hir  nedede  no  teres  for  to  borwe. 

syde. 

And  this  was  yet  the  worste  of  al 

And  go  with  Troilus  wher-as  him 

hir  peyne. 

leste. 

Ther  was  no  wight  to  whom   she 

This  purpos  wol  I  holde,  and  this 

dorste  hir  pleyne. 

is  beste. 
No  fors  of  wikked  tonges  langlerye. 

105.    Ful  rewfully  she  loked  up-on  Troye, 

For  ever  on  love  han  wrecches  had 

Biheld  the  toures  heighe  and  eek 

envye.                                     756 

the  halles;                              730 

'  Alias  ! '  quod  she,  '  the  plesaunce 

109. 

For  who-so  wole  of  every  word  take 

and  the  loye 

hede, 

The   whiche   that    now   al   torned 

Or  rewlen   him   by  every  wiglites 

in-to  galle  is. 

wit. 

Have  I  had  ofte  vvith-inne  yonder 

Ne  shal   he  never  thryven,  out  of 

walles ! 

drede. 

0  Troilus,  what  dostow  now,'  she 

For   that   that    som   men    blamen 

seyde; 

ever  yit,                                 760 

'  Lord  !    whether   yet  thou  thenke 

Lo,  other  maner  folk  commenden 

up-on  Criseyde?                   735 

it. 
And  as  for  me,  for  al  swich  vari- 

106.    Alias !  I  ne  hadde  trowed  on  your 

aunce. 

lore. 

Felicitee  slepe  I  may  suffisaunce. 

And  went  with  yow,  as  ye  me  radde 

er  this ! 

no. 

For  which,  with-outen  any  wordes 

Thanne  hadde  I  now  not  syked  half 

mo. 

so  sore. 

To  Troye  I  wol,  as  for  conclusiinm.' 

Who  mighte  have  seyd,  that  I  had 

But  god  it    wot,  er    fully  month es 

doon  a-mis 

two,                                        766 

To  stele  awey  with  swich  on  as  he 

She    was   ful    fer    fro    that   enten- 

is?                                           740 

J^ 

cioun. 

But  al  to  late  cometh  the  letuarie,fvt^ 

For  bothe  Troilus  and  Troye  toun 

Whan  men  the  cors  un-to  the  grave 

Shal  knotteles  through-out  hir  herte 

carie. 

slyde; 
For    she   wol    take   a    purpos   for 

107.    To  late  is   now  to   speke    of  this 

tabyde.                                   770 

matere; 

Prudence,  alias !  oon  of  thyn  eyen 

III. 

This  Diomede,  of  whom  yow  telle 

three 

I  gan. 

Me  lakked  alwey,  er  that  I   cam 

Goth    now,   with-inne    him-self   ay 

here;                                         745 

arguinge 

On  tyme  y-passed,  wel  rememl)red 

With   al    the  sleighte  and   al   that 

me; 

ever  he  can, 

774-826.J 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


347 


How  he    may   best,    with    shortest 

taryinge, 
In-to  his  net  Criseydes  hcrte  hringc. 
To    this    entente    he    cuude   never 

fyne;  776 

To  fisshen  hir,  he  leydc  out  hook 

antl  lyne. 

112.  But    natheles,  wcl  in  his  herte  he 

thoughte. 
That  she  nas  nat  with-oute  a  love 

in  Troye. 
For    never,  sithen   he   hir  thennes 

broughte,  780 

Ne  coude   he  seen  her  laughe  or 

make  loye. 
He  niste  how  best    hir  herte    for 

tacoye. 
'  But    for  to  assaye,'  he  seyde,  '  it 

nought  ne  greveth; 
For     he    that    nought    nassayeth, 

nought  nacheveth.' 

113.  Yet   seide    he  to  him-self  upon  a 

night,  785 

'Now  am  I  not  a  fool,  that  woot 

wel  how 
Hir  wo  for  love  is  of  another  wight, 
And  here-up-on  to  goon  assaye  hir 

now  ? 
I  may  wel  wite,  it  nil  not  been  my 

prow. 
For  wyse  folk  in  bokes  it  expresse, 
"  Men    shal    not  wowe  a  wight  in 

hevinesse."      '^^^  791 

114.  But  who-so  mighte  winnen  swich  a 

flour 
From  him,  for  whom  she  morneth 

night  and  day. 
He    mighte   seyn,  he  were  a  con- 

querour.' 
And  right  anoon,  as  he  that  bold 

was  ay,  795 

Thoughte  in  his  herte, '  happe,  how 

happe  may, 
Al  sholde  I  deye,  I  wole  hir  herte 

seche; 
I    shal    no    more    lesen    but    my 

speche.' 

115.  This    Diomede,    as   bokes   us    de- 

clare, 


Was  in  his  nedes  prcst    and   cor- 

ageous ;  8cx3 

With  Sterne  voys  and  mighty  linics 

S([uare, 
Hardy,  testif,    strong,  and  chcval- 

rous 
Of  dedes,  lyk  his  fader  Tideus. 
And  som  men  seyn,  he  was  of  tunge 

large; 
And  heir  he  was  of  Calidoine  and 

Arge.  805 

116.  Criseyde  mene  was  of  hir  stature, 
Ther-to  of  shap,  of  face,  and  eek 

of  chere, 

Ther  mighte  been  no  fairer  crea- 
ture. 

And  ofte  tyme  this  was  hir  manere. 

To  gon  y-tressed  with  hir  heres 
clere  810 

Doun  by  hir  coler  at  hir  bak  bi- 
hinde. 

Which  with  a  threde  of  gold  she 
wolde  binde. 

117.  And,    save    hir    browes    ioyneden 

y-fere, 
Ther  nas  no   lak,  in  ought    I   can 

espy en; 
But    for    to   speken    of    hir    eyen 

clere,  815 

Lo,   trewely,  they  writen  that   hir 

syen. 
That  Paradys  stood  formed  in  hir 

yen. 
And  with  hir  riche   beautee  ever- 
more 
Strof  love  in  hir,  ay  which  of  hem 

was  more. 

1 1 8.  She   sobre   was,    eek   simple,   and 

wys  with-al,  820 

The    beste    y-norisshed    eek    that 

mighte  be. 
And     goodly    of     hir     speche    in 

general. 
Charitable,    estatliche,    lusty,    and 

free; 
Ne  never-mo  ne  lakkede  hir  pitce; 
Tendre-herted,    slydinge     of     cor-_ 
^age^  -^  S^ 

But    trewely,   I    can    not   telle   hir 

age. 


tl>^ 


348 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[827-877. 


119.  And    Troilus   wel    waxen   was    in 

highte, 
And   complet    formed   by   propor- 

cioun 
So  wel,  that  kinde  it  not  amenden 

mighte ; 
Yong,   fresshe,  strong,   and   hardy 

as  lyoun;  830 

Trewe  as  steel  in  ech  condicioun; 
On  of  the  beste  enteched  creature, 
That   is,    or   shal,   whyl    that    the 

world  may  dure. 

120.  And     certainly     in     storie     it     is 

y-founde, 
That   Troilus  was  never  un-to    no 

wight,  835 

As    in    his    tyme,    in    no    degree 

secounde 
In  durring  don  that  longeth  to  a 

knight. 
Al  mighte  a  geaunt  passen  him  of 

might, 
His   herte   ay  with   the  firste  and 

with  the  beste 
Stod   paregal,    to   durre   don   that 

him  leste.  tioAt  tU.      840 

121.  But    for   to  tellen  forth   of   Dio- 

mede :  — 
It    fil    that   after,   on    the   tenthe 

day, 
Sin  that  Criseyde  out  of  the  citee 

yede. 
This     Diomede,     as     fresshe     as 

braunche  in  May, 
Com   to   the   tente  ther-as   Calkas 

lay,  845 

And  feyned  him  with  Calkas  han 

to  done; 
But   what   he   mente,    I   shal  yow 

telle  sone. 

122.  Criseyde,  at  shorte  wordes   for   to 

telle. 
Welcomed  him,  and   doun  by  hir 

him  sette; 
And     he    was    ethe    y-nough    to 

maken  dwelle.  850 

And   after   this,  with-outen   longe 

lette. 
The  spyces  and  the  wyn  men  forth 

hem  fette; 


And  forth  they  speke  of  this  and 

that  y-fere. 
As    freendes    doon,  of  which    som 

shal  ye  here. 

123.  He  gan  first  fallen  of  the  werre  in 

speche  855 

Bitwixe  hem  and  the  folk  of  Troye 

toun; 
And   of  thassege    he  gan  hir  eek 

byseche, 
To    telle  him  what  was    hir  opin- 

ioun. 
Fro  that  demaunde  he  so  descend- 

eth  doun 
To  asken  hir,  if  that  hir  straunge 

thoughte  860 

The  Grekes  gyse,  and  werkes  that 

they  wroughte  ? 

124.  And    why    hir    fader     tarieth     so 

longe 
To  wedden  hir  un-to  som  worthy 

wight? 
Criseyde,   that  was   in   hir  peynes 

stronge 
For    love   of    Troilus,   hir   owene 

knight,  865 

As  fer-forth  as  she  conning  hadde 

or  might, 
Answerde  him  tho;   but,  as  of  his 

entente, 
It   semed   not   she  wiste  what   he 

mente. 

125.  But  natheles,  this  ilke  Diomede 
Gan   in   him-self  assure,  and  thus 

he  seyde,  870 

'  If  ich  aright  have  taken  of  yow 

hede. 
Me    thinketh    thus,   O   lady   myn, 

Criseyde, 
That    sin    I    first    hond    on    your 

brydel  leyde. 
Whan  ye  out  come  of  Troye  by  the 

morwe, 
Ne  coude  I  never  seen  yow  but  in 

sorwe.  875 

1 26.  Can  I  not  seyn  what  may  the  cause 

be 
But-if  for   love  of  som  Troyan  it 
were, 


8787929-] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.     BOOK  V. 


349 


The     which     right      sore     wokle 

130.    What    wene   ye  your   wysc    fader 

athinken  me 

wolde 

That     ye,     for     any     wight      that 

11  an     yeven      Antenor     for     yow 

dwelleth  there,                      879 

anoon,                                      905 

Shohlen  spille  a  quarter  of  a  tere, 

If    he    ne    wiste    that    the    citee 

Or  pitously  your-sclvcn  so  bigylc; 

sholde 

For  drcdelecs,  it   is  nought  worth 

Destroyed    been?    Why,    nay,    so 

the  whyle. 

mote  I  goon ! 

He    knew    ful   wel   ther   shal    not 

127.    The  f(jlk  of  Troye,  as  who  seyth. 

scapen  oon 

alle  and  some 

That  Troyan  is;   and  for  tlie  grete 

In  jireson  been,  as  ye  your-selven 

fere, 

see; 

lie   dorste   not,   ye  dwelte  longer 

P'or  thennes  shal  not  con  on-lyve 

there.                                        910 

come                                      885 

For  al  the  gold  bitwixen  sonne  and 

131.    What   wole  ye  more,  iufsom   lady 

see. 

derc? 

Trusteth   wel,   and    understondeth 

Lat   Troye    and    Troyan    fro    your 

me. 

herte  pace ! 

Ther  shal  not  con  to  mercy  goon 

Dryf    out    that    bittre    hope,   and 

on-lyve. 

make  good   chere. 

Al  were  he  lord  of  worldes  twyes 

And   clepe    ayein   the    beautee   of 

fyve ! 

your  face. 

That     ye     with     salte     teres     so 

128.    Swich  wreche  on  hem,  for  fecching 

deface.                                    915 

of  Eleyne,                               890 

For   Troye  is    brought  in  swich  a 

Ther   shal    be    take,   er    that   we 

lupartye. 

hennes  wende, 

That,  it  to  save,  is  now  no  remedye. 

That    Manes,    which    that    goddes 

ben  of  peyne, 

132.    And    thenketh    wel,    ye    shal    in 

Shal   been  agast   that  Grekes  wol 

Grekes  finde 

hem  shende.    ''^^^^-^'^^^-^-^ 

A  more  parfit  love,  er  it  be  night, 

And   men   shul    drede,    un-to   the 

Than    any    Troyan    is,   and    more 

worldes  ende, 

kinde,                                      920 

From  hennes-forth  to  ravisshe  any 

;             And    bet  to  serven  yow  wol  doon 

quene,                                      895 

his  might. 

So  cruel  shal  our  wreche  on  hem 

And    if  ye   vouche  sauf,   my  lady 

be  sene. 

bright, 

I  wol    ben  he  to  serven  yow  my- 

129.    And    but-if    Calkas   lede    us   with 

selve. 

ambages. 

Ye,  lever  than   be  lord  of  Greces 

That    is    to    seyn,     with     double 

twelve ! ' 

wordes  slye, 

Swich  as  men  clepe  a  "  word  with 

133.    And   with    that   word   he   gan   to 

two  visages," 

waxen  reed,                           925 

Ye  shul  wel  knowen  that  I  nought 

And  in  his  speche  a  litel  wight  he 

ne  lye,                                   900 

quook, 

And  al  this  thing  right  seen  it  with 

And  caste  a-syde  a  litel  wight  his 

your  ye. 

heed. 

And  that  anoon;   ye  nil  not  trowe 

And    stinte    a    whyle;     and    after- 

how sone; 

ward  awook. 

Now  takcth   heed,  for  it  is  for  to 

And    sobreliche    on    hir  he    llirew 

done. 

his  look, 

35° 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[930-981. 


And  seyde,  '  I  am,  al  be  it  yow  no 

'  0  Diomede,  I  love  that  ilke  place 

loye,                                       930 

Ther  I  was  born ;    and  loves,  for 

As   gentil    man    as   any   wight   in 

his  grace. 

Troye. 

Delivere  it  sone  of  al  that  doth  it 

134- 

For  if  my  fader  Tydeus,'  he  seyde, 

care ! 
God,  for  thy  might,  so  leve  it  wel 

*  Y-lived  hadde,  I  hadde  been,  er 

this, 
Of  Calidoine    and    Arge   a    king. 

to  fare ! 

138.    That   Grekes  wolde   hir   wraththe 

Criseyde  ! 

on  Troye  wreke,                 960 

And   so  hope   I   that   I   shal  yet. 

If  that   they   mighte,    I   knowe  it 

y-wis.                                      935 

wel,  y-wis. 

But  he  was  slayn,  alias !  the  more 

But  it  shal  not  bifallen  as  ye  speke; 

harm  is,                                        yv^ 

And  god  to-forn,  and  ferther  over 

Unhappily  at  Thebes  al  to  rathe^ 

this, 

Polymites    and    many   a    man    to 

I  wot  my  fader  wys  and  redy  is; 

scathe. 

And   that    he  me  hath  bought,  as 
ye  me  tolde,                         965 

135- 

But  herte  myn,  sin  that  I  am  your 

So  dere,  I  am  the  more  un-to  him 

man, 

holde. 

And   been   the   ferste   of  whom  I 

seche  grace,                           940 

139.    That  Grekes  been  of  heigh  con- 

To  serven  you  as  hertely  as  I  can. 

dicioun. 

And  ever  shal,  whyl  I  to  live  have 

I  woot  eek  wel;   but  certein,  men 

space. 

shal  finde 

So,  er   that  I  departe  out  of  this 

As   worthy   folk  with-inne    Troye 

place. 

toun, 

Ye  wol  me  graunte,  that  I  may  to- 

As   conning,  and  as  parfit  and  as 

morwe, 

kinde,                                    970 

At    bettre    leyser,    telle    yow    my 

As    been    bitwixen     Orcades   and 

sorwe.'                                    945 

Inde. 
And   that  ye  coude  wel  your  lady 

136. 

What  shold  I  telle  his  wordes  that 

serve, 

he  seyde? 

I  trowe  eek  wel,  hir  thank  for  to 

He  spak  y-now,  for  0  day  at  the 

deserve. 

meste ; 

It   preveth  wel,   he   spak   so   that 

140.    But  as  to  speke  of  love,  y-wis,'  she 

Criseyde 

seyde, 

Graunted,    on   the   morwe,   at   his 

'  I  hadde  a  lord,  to  whom  I  wed- 

requeste, 

ded  was,                               975 

For    to    speken    with    him    at    the 

The    whos   myn  herte   al   was,  til 

leste,                                         950 

that  he  deyde; 

So    that    he    nolde  speke  of  swich 

And  other  love,  as  heipe  me  now 

matere; 

Pallas, 

And  thus  to  him  she  seyde,  as  ye 

Ther   in   myn  herte  nis,  ne  never 

may  here : 

was. 
And   that   ye   been   of  noble  and 

137- 

As   she   that   hadde   hir   herte  on 

heigh  kinrede. 

Troilus 

I    have  wel  herd  it   tellen,  out  of 

So    faste,  that   ther   may   it    noon 

drede.                                     980 

arace ; 

And     straungely     she     spak,     and 

141.    And  that  doth  me  to  han  so  gret  a 

seyde  thus:                           955 

wonder, 

982-1032.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


351 


That  ye  wol  scornen  any  wommaii 

T  may  yow  seen,  or  do  myn  herte 

so. 

breste.' 

Eek,  god   wot,  love  and    I  be  fer 

a-sonder; 

145- 

But  in   effect,   and   shortly  for   to 

I  am  tlisposed  bet,  so  mote  I  go, 

seye. 

Un-to    my   deeth,   to   pleyne   and 

This     Diomede    al    freshly    hewe 

niaken  wo.                            985 

ayeyn                                  10 10 

What  1  shal  after  doon,  I  can  not 

Gan    pressen    on,    and    faste    hir 

seye ; 

mercy  preye; 

But   trewely,   as   yet    me    Hst   not 

And  after  this,  the  sothe  for  to  seyn. 

pleye. 

Hir  glove  he  took,  of  which  he  was 
ful  fayn. 

142.    Myn  herte  is  now  in  tribulacioun, 

And   fynally,   whan   it  was  waxen 

And    ye    in    amies    bisy,   day   by 

eve. 

day. 

And  al  was  wel,  he  roos  and  took 

Here-after,  whan  ye   wonnen  han 

his  leve.                               1015 

the  toun,                               990 

Paraunter,    thanne    so   it    happen 

146. 

The   brighte   Venus   folwede    and 

may, 

ay  taughte 

That   whan  I  see  that  I  never  er 

The  wey,  ther  brode  Phebus  doun 

say. 

alighte; 

Than  wole  I  werke   that   I  never 

And   Cynthea   hir  char-hors  over- 

wroughte ! 

raughte 

This  word  to  yow  y-nough  suffysen 

To  whirle  out  of  the  Lyon,  if  she 

oughte. 

mighte; 
And  Signifer  his  candeles  shewed 

143.    To-morwe    eek   wol   I  speke  with 

brighte,                                  1020 

yow  fayn,                              995 

Whan    that     Criseyde    un-to     hir 

So  that  ye  touchen  nought  of  this 

bedde  wente 

matere. 

In-with    hir    fadres    faire    brighte 

And  whan  yow  list,  ye  may  come 

tente. 

here  ayeyn; 

And,  er  ye  gon,  thus  muche  I  seye 

147. 

Retorning  in  hir  soule  ay  up  and 

yow  here : 

doun 

As  helpe  me  Pallas  with  hir  heres 

The   wordes   of    this   sodein   Dio- 

clere. 

mede, 

If  that  I  sholde  of  any  Greek  han 

His  greet   estat,  and    peril  of  the 

routhe,                                  1000 

toun,                                     1025 

It   sholde   be  your-selven,   by  my 

And    that    she    was    allone    and 

trouthe  ! 

hadde  nede 
Of  freendes  help;   and  thus  bigan 

144.    I  sey  not  therfore  that  I  wol  yow 

to  brede 

love. 

The   cause   why,  the  sothe  for  to 

Ne   I  sey  not  nay,  but  in  conclu- 

telle. 

sioun, 

That   she    tok  fully  purpos  for   to 

I    mene    wel,    by    god     that     sit 

dwelle. 

aliove : '  — 

And    ther-with-al     she    caste    hir 

148. 

The  morwe  com,  and  goostly  for 

eyen  doun,                           1005 

to  speke,                               1030 

And    gan  to  syke,  and    seyde,  '  O 

This      Diomede    is      come    un-to 

Troye  toun. 

Criseyde, 

Yet  bidde  I  god,  in  quiete  and  in 

And  shortly,  lest  that  ye  my  tale 

reste 

breke, 

352                            TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V.              [1033-10S6. 

So  wel  he  for  him-selve  spak  and 

Shal    neither    been   y-writen    nor 

seyde, 

y-songe 

That  alle  hir  sykes  sore  adoun  he 

No    good    word,    for    thise    bokes 

leyde. 

wol  me  shende.                   1060 

And    fynally,     the    sothe     for     to 

0,  rolled  shal   I  been  on  many  a 

seyne,                                   1035 

tunge; 

He  refte  hir  of  the  grete  of  al  hir 

Through-out   the  world   my   belle 

peyne. 

shal  be  ronge; 
And  wommen  most  wol  hate  me  of 

149.    And  after  this  the  story  telleth  us, 

alle. 

That   she  him  yaf  the  faire   baye 

Alias,  that  swich  a  cas  me  sholde 

stede. 

falle ! 

The  which  he  ones  wan  of  Troilus; 

And  eek  a  broche  (and  that  was 

153- 

They  wol  seyn,  in  as  muche  as  in 

htel  nede)                             1040 

me  is,                                   1065 

That    Troilus    was,    she    yaf   this 

I  have  hem  don  dishonour,  weyl- 

Diomede. 

awey ! 

And  eek,  the  bet  from  sorwe  him 

Al   be  I  not  the   firste  that   dide 

to  releve. 

amis, 

She  made  him  were  a  pencel  of 

What  helpeth  that  to  do  my  blame 

hir  sieve. 

awey  ? 
But  sin  I  see  there  is  no  bettre  way, 

150.    I   finde  eek   in   the   stories   elles- 

And  that  to  late  is  now  for  me  to 

where. 

rewe,                                     1070 

Whan  through  the  body  hurt  was 

To  Diomede  algate  I  wol  be  trewe. 

Diomede                                1045 

Of  Troilus,  tho  weep  she  many  a 

154- 

But  Troilus,  sin  I  no  better  may. 

tere. 

And  sin  that  thus  departen  ye  and  I, 

Whan    that   she   saugh    his   wyde 

Yet  preye  I  god,  so  yeve  yow  right 

woundes  blede; 

good  day 

And  that  she  took  to  kepen  him 

As  for  the  gentileste,  trewely,  1075 

good  hede, 

That  ever  I  say,   to  serven  feith- 

And  for  to  hele  him  of  his  sorwes 

fully. 

smerte. 

And  best  can  ay  his  lady  honour 

Men  seyn,  I  not,  that  she  yaf  him 

kepe  : '  — 

hir  herte.                             1050 

And  with  that  word  she  brast  anon 
to  wepe. 

151.    But  trewely,  the  story  telleth  us. 

Ther  made  never  womman   more 

155- 

'And  certes,  yow  ne  haten  shal  I 

wo 

never, 

Than   she,   whan    that   she   falsed 

And  freendes  love,  that  shal  ye  han 

Troilus. 

of  me,                                  1080 

She  seyde,  '  alias !  for  now  is  clene 

And  my  good  word,  al  mighte  I 

a-go 

liven  ever. 

My   name  of  trouthe  in  love,  for 

And,  trewely,  I  wolde  sory  be 

ever-mo !                              1055 

For  to  seen  yow  in  adversitee. 

For  I  have  falsed  oon,  the  gentil- 

And  giltelees,  I  woot  wel,  I    yow 

este 

leve; 

That     ever    was,    and     oon     the 

But  al  shal  passe;   and  thus  take  I 

worthieste ! 

my  leve.'                              1085 

T52.      Alias,  of  me,   un-to  the  worldes 

156. 

But    trewely,   how   longe    it    was 

ende, 

bitwene. 

1087-1140-] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.     BOOK  V. 


353 


That     she    for-sook    him    for    this 

Diomede, 
Ther  is  non  auctor  telleth  it,  I  wene. 
Take  every  man  now  to  his  bokcs 

hede; 
He  shal  no  terme   finden,  out  of 

drede.  1090 

For  though  that  he  bigan  to  vvovve 

hir  sone, 
Er  he  hir  wan,  yet  was  ther  more 

to  done. 

157.  Ne    me  ne  list  this   sely  womman 

chyde 
Ferther  than  the  story  wol  dev)'se. 
Hir  name,  alias !   is  publisshed  so 

wyde,  1095 

That   for  hir  gilt  it  oughte  y-now 

suffyse. 
And   if  I    mighte  excuse  hir    any 

wyse. 
For  she  so  sory  was   for   hir   un- 

trouthe, 
Y-wis,  I  wolde  excuse  hir  yet  for 

routhe. 

158.  This  Troilus,  as  I  biforn  have  told, 
Thus   dryveth    forth,  as  wel  as  he 

hath  might.  iioi 

But  often  was  his  herte  hoot  and 

cold, 
And  namely,  that  ilke  nynthe  night. 
Which   on  the  morwe  she   hadde 

him  byhight 
To  come  ayein:   god  wot,  ful  litel 

reste  1 105 

Hadde  he  that  night;    no-thing  to 

slepe  him  leste. 

159.  The   laurer-crouned    Phebus,  with 

his  hete, 
Gan,  in  his  course  ay  upward  as  he 

wente, 
To  warmen  of  the  est  see  the  wawes 

wete ; 
And  Nisus  doughter  song  with  fresh 

entente,  mo 

Whan   Troilus   his    Pandare    after 

sente; 
And  on  the  walles  of  the  toun  they 

pleyde. 
To  loke  if  they  can  seen  ought  of 

Criseyde. 
2  A 


160.  Til  it  was  noon,  they  stoden  fur  to 

see 
Who  that   ther  come  ;    and  every 

maner  wight,  11 15 

That  cam   fro   fer,  they  seyden  it 

was  she, 
Til   that   they  coude  knowen  him 

a-right. 
Now  was  his  herte  dul,  now  was  it 

light; 
And  thus  by-iaped  stonden  for  to 

stare 
Aboute   nought,   this  Troilus   and 

Pandare.  11 20 

161.  To  Pandarus  this  Troilus  tho  seyde, 
'For    ought    I    Wot,    hi-for    noon, 

sikerly, 
In-to  this  toun   ne   comth    nought 

here  Criseyde. 
She  hath  y-now  to  done,  hardily. 
To  winnen  from  hir  fader,  so  trowe 

I;  1125 

Hir  olde  fader  wol  yet  make  hir 

dyne 
Er  that  she  go;   god  yeve  his  herte 

pyne ! ' 

162.  Pandare  answerde,  'it  may  wel  be, 

certeyn; 
And  for-thy  lat  us  dyne,  I  thee  bi- 

seche; 
And   after  noon  than  mayst   thou 

come  ayeyn.'  1130 

And  hoom  they  go,  with-oute  more 

speche; 
And  comen  ayein,  but  longe  may 

they  seche 
Er  that  they  hnde  that  they  after 

cape; 
Fortune  hem  bothe  thenketh  for  to 

lape. 

163.  Quod  Troilus,  'I  see  wel  now,  that 

she  1 135 

Is  taried  with  hir  olde  fader  so, 
That  er  she  come,  it  wol  neigh  even 

be. 
Com  forth,  I  wol  un-to  the  yate  go. 
Thise    portours    been    unkonninge 

ever-mo; 
And  I  wol   doon   hem    holden  up 

the  yate  1140 


354 

TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  V.              [i  141-1 192. 

As  nought  ne  were,  al-though  she 

Ne  felte  I  swich  a  confort,  dar  I 

come  late.' 

seye; 
She   comth    to-night,  my  lyf,  that 

164. 

The  day  goth  faste,  and  after  that 
comth  eve, 

dorste  I  leye  !  ' 

And    yet   com   nought   to   Troilus 

168.    Pandare  answerde,  'it  may  be  wel. 

Criseyde. 

y-nough';                            1170 

He  loketh  forth  by  hegge,  by  tree. 

And  held  with  him  of  al  that  ever 

by  greve, 

he  seyde ; 

And  fer  his  heed  over  the  wal  he 

But  in  his  herte  he  thoughte,  and 

leyde.                                    1 145 

softe  lough. 

And  at  the  laste  he  torned  him,  and 

And    to   him-self    ful    sobrely   he 

seyde. 

seyde : 

*  By  god,  I  woot  hir  mening  now, 

*  From  hasel-wode,  ther  loly  Robin 

Pandare ! 

pleyde, 

Al-most,  y-wis,  al  newe  was  my  care. 

Shal  come  al  that  that  thou  abydest 
here;                                     11 75 

l65. 

Now   douteles,   this    lady   can   hir 

Ye,  fare-wel  al  the  snow  of  feme 

good; 

yere ! ' 

I  woot,  she  meneth  ryden  prively. 

I   comende    hir   wysdom,  by  myn 

169.    The  wardein  of  the  yates  gan  to 

hood!                                   1151 

calle 

She  wol  not  maken  peple  nycely 

The  folk  which  that  with-oute  the 

Gaure  on  hir,  whan  she  comth;   but 

yates  were, 

softely 

And  bad  hem  dryven  in  hir  bestes 

By  nighte  in-to  the  toun  she  thenk- 

alle, 

eth  ryde. 

Or  al  the  night  they  moste  bleven 

And,  dere  brother,  thenk  not  longe 

there.                                  1180 

to  abyde.                              1155 

And    fer   with-in   the   night,    with 
many  a  tere. 

166. 

We  han  nought  elles  for  to  don, 

This  Troilus  gan  hoomward  for  to 

y-wis. 

ryde; 

And  Pandarus,  now  woltow  trowen 

For  wel  he  seeth  it  helpeth  nought 

me? 

tabyde. 

Have  here  my  trouthe,  I  see  hir ! 

yond  she  is. 

170.    But   natheles,  he  gladded  him  in 

Heve  up  thyn  eyen,  man  !  maystow 

this; 

not  see?' 

He  thoughte  he  misacounted  hadde 

Pandare  answerde,  '  nay,  so  mote  I 

his  day,                                1185 

thee!                                     1160 

And   seyde,  '  I    understonde   have 

Al  wrong,  by  god;    what  seystow. 

al  a-mis. 

man,  wher  art? 

For  thilke  night  I  last  Criseyde  say, 

That  I  see  yond  nis  but  a  fare-cart.' 

She  seyde,   "  I   shal   ben   here,  if 
that  I  may, 

167. 

'  Alias,  thou  seist  right  sooth,'  quod 

Er   that   the  mone,   O  dere  herte 

Troilus; 

swete ! 

'  But  hardely,  it  is  not  al  for  nought 

The     Lyon     passe,     out     of    this 

That  in  myn  herte  I  now  reioyse 

Ariete."                                11 90 

thus.                                      1165 

It    is   ayein   som   good    I   have   a 

171.    For  which  she  may  yet   holde  al 

thought. 

hir  biheste.' 

Noot  I  not  how,  but  sin  that  I  was 

And  on  the  morwe  un-to  the  yate 

wrought, 

he  wente. 

1 1 93- »  242.] 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.    ROOK  V. 


355 


And   up   and    down,  by  west  and 

eek  by  este, 
Up-on    the  walles  made    he  many 

a  wente. 
But  al  for  nought;   his  hope  alwey 

him  blente;  1 195 

For  which  at  night,  in  sorwe  and 

sykes  sore 
He   wente   him  hoom,  with-outen 

any  more. 

172.  This  hope  al  clene  out  of  his  herte 

fledde, 
He  nath  wher-on    now  lenger  for 

to  honge; 
But  for   the   peyne   him  thoughte 

his  herte  bledde,  1200 

So  were    his   throwes   sharpe  and 

wonder  stronge. 
For  when  he  saugh  that  she  abood 

so  longe, 
He   niste  what    he    iuggen   of    it 

mighte. 
Sin  she  hath  broken  that  she  him 

bihighte. 

173.  The    thridde,    ferthe,    fifte,    sixte 

day  1205 

After  tho   dayes   ten,  of  which  I 

tolde, 
Bitwixen  hope  and  drede  his  herte 

lay, 
Yet    som-what    trustinge    on    hir 

hestes  olde. 
But  whan  he  saugh  she  nolde  hir 

terme  holde, 
He    can     now     seen     non    other 

remedye,  12 10 

But  for  to  shape  him  sone  for  to 

dye. 

174.  Ther-with    the  wikked   spirit,  god 

us  blesse. 
Which    that    men    clepeth    wode 

lalousye, 
Gan  in  him  crepe,  in  al  this  hevi- 

nesse; 
For  which,  by-cause  he  wolde  sone 

dye,  1215 

He  ne  eet  ne  dronk,  for  his  mal- 

encolye, 
And  eek  from  every  companye  he 

fledde; 


This  was  the  lyf  that  al  the  tyme 
he  ledde. 

175.  He  so  defetwas,  that  no  manerman 
Unnethe  mighte    him   knowe  ther 

he  wente;  1220 

So  was  he    lene,  and  ther-to  pale 

and  wan. 
And    feble,   that    he   walketh    by 

potente; 
And   with    his   ire    he   thus   him- 

selven  shente. 
And    who-so    axed     him    wher-of 

him  smerte. 
He  seyde,  his  harm  was  al  aboute 

his  herte.  1225 

176.  Pryam  ful  ofte,  and  eek  his  moder 

dere. 
His    bretheren    and     his    sustren 

gonne  him  freyne 
Why  he  so  sorwful  was  in  al   his 

chere. 
And  what  thing  was  the  cause  of 

al  his  peyne? 
But  al    for  nought;   he  nolde   his 

cause  pleyne,  1230 

But    seyde,    he     felte    a    grevous 

maladye 
A-boute    his   herte,   and    fayn   he 

wolde  dye. 

177.  So  on  a   day  he  leyde   him    doun 

to  slepe. 
And  so  bifel  that  in  his  sleep  him 

thoughte. 
That  in  a  forest   faste  he  welk  to 

wepe  1235 

For   love   of    hir   that   him    these 

peynes  wroughte; 
And  up  and  doun  as  he  the  forest 

soughte. 
He   mette   he  saugh   a  boor  with 

tuskes  grete. 
That     sleep     ayein     the     brighte 

sonnes  hete. 

178.  And    by   this   boor,    faste   in    his 

armes  folde,  1240 

Lay    kissing    ay    his    lady   bright 

Criseyde : 
For   sorwe   of  which,  whan  he  it 

gan  biholde, 


356 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V, 


[ I 243-1 293. 


And  for  despyt,  out  of  his  slepe  he 

182. 

What  shal  I  doon,  my  Pandarus, 

breyde. 

alias ! 

And  loude  he  cryde  on  Pandarus, 

I  fele  now  so  sharpe  a  newe  peyne. 

and  seyde, 

Sin  that  ther  is  no  remedie  in  this 

'  0   Pandarus,    now  knowe  I  crop 

cas,                                       1270 

and  rote  !                              1245 

That    bet    were    it    I    with    myn 

I  nam  but  deed,  ther  nis  non  other 

hondes  tweyne 

bote! 

My-selven   slow,    than    alwey  thus 
to  pleyne. 

179.    My  lady  bright  Criseyde  hath  me 

For    through    my    deeth    my    wo 

bitrayed. 

sholde  han  an  ende. 

In  whom    I   trusted    most  of  any 

Ther  every  day  with  lyf  my-self  I 

wight. 

shende.' 

She  elles-where  hath  now  hir  herte 

\.W*-a>^    apayed; 

The    blisful    goddes,   through    hir 

183. 

Pandare     answerde     and     seyde, 

'alias  the  whyle                 1275 

grete  might,                        1250 

That  I  was  born;   have  I  not  seyd 

Han  in  my  dreem  y-shewed  it  ful 

er   this. 

right. 

That   dremes  many  a  maner  man 

Thus  in  my  dreem  Criseyde  I  have 

bigyle  ? 

biholde '  — 

And  why?  for  folk  expounden  hem 

And  al  this  thing  to  Pandarus  he 

a-mis. 

tolde. 

How   darstow   seyn   that   fals   thy 
lady  is, 

180.    'O  my  Criseyde,  alias!  what  sub- 

For    any   dreem,    right    for    thyn 

tiltee. 

owene  drede?                     1280 

What    newe    lust,   what    beautee, 

Lat  be  this  thought,  thou  canst  no 

what  science,                        1255 

dremes  rede. 

What  wratthe  of  iuste  cause  have 

ye  to  me? 

184. 

Paraunter,   ther    thou   dremest   of 

What  gilt  of  me,  what  fel  experi- 

this boor, 

ence 

It  may  so  be  that  it  may  signifye 

Hath  fro  me  raft,  alias !  thyn  ad- 

Hir fader,  which    that  old    is  and 

vertence? 

eek  hoor, 

0  trust,  0   feyth,   O   depe  aseur- 

Ayein  the  sonne  lyth,  on  poynt  to 

aunce, 

dye,                                       1285 

Who  hath  me  reft  Criseyde,  al  my 

And  she  for  sorwe  ginneth  wepe 

plesaunce?                           1260 

and  crye. 
And  kisseth  him,  ther  he  lyth  on 

181.    Alias!  whyleetl  you  from  hennes 

the  grounde; 

go. 

Thus  shuldestow  thy  dreem  a-right 

For  which  wel   neigh    out  of  my 

expounde.' 

wit  I  breyde? 

Who  shal  now  trowe  on  any  othes 

185. 

'How  mighte  I  thanne  do?'  quod 

mo? 

Troilus, 

God  wot  I  wende,  O  lady  bright, 

'  To   knowe   of    this,   ye,   were    it 

Criseyde, 

never  so  lyte  ?  '                    1 290 

That  tvery  word  was  gospel    that 

'Now   seystow   wysly,'    quod    this 

ye  seyde  !                             1 265 

Pandarus, 

But  who  may  bet  bigylen,  if  him 

'  My    reed    is    this,  sin   thou  canst 

liste. 

wel  endyte, 

Than   he   on   whom   men   weneth 

That    hastely    a    lettre    thou    hir 

best  to  triste? 

wryte, 

1 294- 1 344-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  V. 


357 


Thorugh     which     thou    shall    wel 

bringen  it  ahoute, 
To  knowe  a  sooth  of  that  thou  art 

in  doute.  1295 

186.  And  see  now  why;   for  this  I  dar 

wcl  seyn, 
That  if  so  is  that  she  untrewe  be, 
I  can  not  trowe  that  she  vvol  vvryte 

ayeyn. 
And    if  she  wryte,  thou  shalt    ful 

sone  see, 
As    whether    she    hath    any    lib- 

ertee  1300 

To   come   ayein,   or   elles   in  som 

clause, 
If  she    be  let,  she  wol  assigne  a 

cause. 

187.  Thou  hast  not  writen  hir  sin  that 

she  wente. 
Nor  she  to  thee,  and  this  I  dorste 

leye, 
Ther  may  swich  cause  been  in  hir 

entente,  1305 

That  hardely  thou  wolt  thy-selven 

seye, 
That    hir  a-bood    the  beste  is  for 

yow  tweye. 
Now  wryte  hir  thanne,   and  thou 

shalt  fele  sone 
A  sothe  of  al;  ther  is  no  more  to 

done.' 

188.  Acorded     been     to    this     conclu- 

sioun,  1310 

And  that  anoon,  these  ilke  lordes 

two ; 
And  hastely  sit  Troilus  adoun, 
And  rolleth  in  his  herte  to  and  fro, 
How  he  may  best  discryven  hir  his 

wo. 
And  to  Criseyde,  his   owene   lady 

dere,  1315 

He  wroot  right  thus,  and  seyde  as 

ye  may  here. 

189.  '  Right  fresshe  flour,  whos  I  have 

been  and  shal, 
With-outen     part    of    elles-where 

servyse, 
With  herte,  body,  lyf,  lust,  thought, 

and  al; 


I,    woful  wight,    in   every    humble 

wyse  1320 

That    tonge   telle    or    herte    may 

devyse, 
As     ofte     as     matere     occupyeth 

place. 
Me  recomaunde  un-to  your  noble 

grace. 

190.  Lyketh     it    yow   to    witen,   swete 

herte, 
As  ye  wel  knowe  how  longe  tyme 

agoon  1325 

That  ye  me  lafte  in  aspre  peynes 

smerte, 
Whan  that  ye  wente,  of  which  yet 

bote  noon 
Have  I  non   had,   but    ever   wers 

bigoon 
Fro  day  to  day  am  I,  and  so  mot 

dwelle. 
While  it  yow  list,  of  wele  and  wo 

my  welle !  ^3jO 

191.  For   which    to   yow,   with   dredful 

herte  trewe, 
I  wryte,  as  he  that  sorwe  dryfth  to 

wryte. 
My  wo,  that  every  houre  encreseth 

newe, 
Compleyninge    as   I    dar    or    can 

endyte. 
And  that  defaced  is,  that  may  ye 

wyte  1335 

The  teres,  which  that  fro  myn  eyen 

reyne. 
That    wolde    speke,   if    that    they 

coude,  and  pleyne. 

192.  Yow  first  biseche  I,  that  your  eyen 

clere 
To  look  on   this   defouled  ye   not 

holde; 
And  over  al  this,  that  ye,  my  lady 

dere,  1 340 

Wol  vouche-sauf  this  lettre  to  bi- 

holde. 
And  by  the  cause  eek  of  my  cares 

colde, 
That  sleeth  my  wit,  if  ought  amis 

me  asterte, 
For-yeve  it  me,  myn  owene  swete 

herte. 


358                           TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.    BOOK  V.             [i345-i394- 

193.    If  any  servant  dorste  or  oughte  of 

Al    redy    out    my   woful   gost   to 

right                                     1345 

dryve;                                   1370 

Up-on     his     lady     pitously     com- 

Which  I  delaye,  and  holde  him  yet 

pleyne, 

in  honde. 

Than  wene  I,  that  ich  oughte  be 

Upon  the  sight  of  matere  of  your 

that  wight, 

sonde. 

Considered     this,    that     ye    these 

monthes  tweyne 

197. 

Myn  eyen  two,  in  veyn  with  which 

Han  taried,  ther  ye  seyden,  sooth 

I  see, 

to  seyne, 

Of  sorweful  teres  salte  arn  waxen 

But    dayes   ten    ye    nolde    in   ost 

welles; 

soiourne,                              1350 

My  song,  in   pleynte  of  myn  ad- 

But   in   two   monthes  yet   ye   not 

versitee  ;                              '375 

retourne. 

My  good,  in  harm;   myn  ese  eek 
waxen  helle  is. 

194.    But  for-as-muche  as  me  mot  nedes 

My  loye,  in   wo  ;   I  can  sey  yow 

lyke 

nought  elles. 

Al  that  yow  list,  I  dar  not  pleyne 

But  turned   is,   for   which   my  lyf 

more, 

I  warie, 

But   humbely  with    sorwful   sykes 

Everich  loye   or   ese   in   his  con- 

syke; 

trarie. 

Yow  wryte  ich  myn  unresty  sorwes 

sore,                                    1355 

198. 

Which  with   your   cominge   hoom 

Fro    day   to    day   desyring    ever- 

ayein to  Troye                    1 380 

more 

Ye    may    redresse,   and,   more    a 

To  knowen   fully,   if  your   wil   it 

thousand  sythe 

were. 

Than  ever   ich    hadde,    encressen 

How  ye  han  ferd  and  doon,  whyl 

in  me  loye. 

ye  be  there. 

For  was  ther  never  herte  yet  so 
blythe 

195.   The  whos  wel-fare   and   hele  eek 

To  han  his  lyf,  as  I  shal  been  as 

god  encresse 

swythe 

In  honour   swich,  that  upward  in 

As   I    yow   see;    and,   though   no 

degree                                  1360 

maner  routhe                      1385 

It  growe  alwey,   so   that  it  never 

Commeve   yow,   yet    thinketh    on 

cesse; 

your  trouthe. 

Right  as  your  herte  ay  can,  my  lady 

free. 

199. 

And  if  so   be  my  gilt  hath  deeth 

Devyse,  I  prey  to  god  so  mote  it 

deserved. 

be. 

Or  if  you  list  no  more  up-on  me  see, 

And  graunte  it  that  ye  sone  up-on 

In  guerdon  yet  of  that  I  have  you 

me  rewe 

served. 

As    wisly    as    in    al    I    am    yow 

Biseche  I   yow,   myn   hertes   lady 

trewe.                                  1365 

free,                                    1390 
That  here-upon  ye  wolden   wryte 

196.    And  if  yow  lyketh  knowen  of  the 

me. 

fare 

For  love  of  god,  my  righte  lode- 

Of   me,   whos   wo    ther    may   no 

sterre. 

wight  discryve, 

Ther  deeth  may  make  an  ende  of 

I  can  no  more  but,  cheste  of  every 

al  my  werre. 

care. 
At  wrytinge  of  this  lettre  I  was  on- 

200. 

If  other  cause  aught  doth  vow  for 

lyve, 

to  dwelle, 

I395-I443] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


359 


That  with  your   lettre    ye    me    re- 

Me    from    disese   of    alle   peynes 

coni  forte;                              1395 

smerte;                                 1420 

For  though  to  me  your  absence  is 

And    fare    now   wel,    myn   owene 

an  helle, 

swete  herte ! 

With  pacieuce  I  wol  my  wo  com- 

Le  vostre  T.' 

jxjrte. 

Ami  with    your   lettre   of  hope    I 

204.    This   lettre    forth    was   sent    un-to 

wol  (lesporte. 
Now  wryteth,   swete,  and    lat  me 

Criseyde, 

Of  which  hir  answere  in  effect  was 

thus  not  pleyne; 

this; 

With  hope,  or  ileeth,  delivereth  me 

Ful  pitously  she  wroot  ayein,  and 

fro  pcyne.                             14CX) 

seyde, 

That  al-so  sone  as  that  she  might 

201.    Y-wis,    myn     owene    dere     herte 

y-wis,                                    1425 

trewe, 

She   wolde   come,   and   mende   al 

I  woot  that,  whan  ye  next  up-on 

that  was  mis. 

me  see, 

And  fynally  she  wroot  and  seyde 

So  lost  have  I  myn  hele  and  eek 

him  thanne. 

myn  hewe. 

She  wolde  come,  ye,  but  she  niste 

Criseyde  shal  nought  conne  knowe 

whanne. 

me ! 
Y-wis,  myn   hertes  day,   my   lady 

205.    But  in  hir  lettre  made  she  swich 

free,                                    1405 

festes. 

So  thursteth  ay  myn  herte  to  bi- 

That  wonder  was,  and  swereth  she 

holde 

loveth  him  best, 

Your  beautee,  that  my  lyf  unnethe 

Of  which    he    fond  but  botmelees 

I  holde. 

bihestes.                               1431 

But  Troilus,  thou   mayst  now,  est 

202.    I  sey  no   more,  al  have   I   for  to 

or  west, 

seye 

Pype  in  an  ivy   leef,  if  that   thee 

To  you   wel   more    than    I    telle 

lest; 

may; 

Thus  gooth  the  world;   god  shilde 

But  whether  that  ye  do  me  live  or 

us  fro  mischaunce. 

deye,                                   1410 

And    every    wight     that    meneth 

Yet  pray  I  god,  so  yzve  yow  right 

trouthe  avaunce !               1435 

good  day. 

And     fareth    well,    goodly     fayre 

206.    Encresen  gan  the   wo   fro  day  to 

fresshe  may. 

night 

As  ye  that   lyf  or  deeth  me  may 

Of  Troilus,    for    taryinge   of    Cri- 

comaunde; 

seyde; 

And  to  your  trouthe  ay  I  me  re- 

And  lessen  gan  his  hope  and  eek 

comaunde 

his  might. 

For  which  al  doun  he  in  his  bed 

203.    With  hele  swich  that,  but  ye  yeven 

him  leyde; 

me                                      1415 

He  ne  eet,  ne  dronk,  ne  sleep,  ne 

The  same  hele,  I  shal  noon   hele 

word  he  seyde,                    1440 

have. 

Imagininge   ay  that   she    was   un- 

In  you  lyth,  whan  yow  list  that  it 

kinde; 

so  be. 

For  which  wel  neigh  he  wex  out  of 

The  day  in  which  me  clothen  shal 

his  minde. 

my  grave. 

In  yow  my  lyf,  in  yow  might  for  to 

207.    This  dreem,  of  which  I  told  have 

save 

eek  biforn, 

36o 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


[1444- I 484. 


May  never  come  out  of  his  remem- 

braunce; 
He  thoughte  ay  wel  he  hadde  his 

lady  lorn,  1445 

And  that  loves,  of  his  purveyaunce. 
Him   shewed   hadde   in  sleep   the 

signifiaunce 
Of  hir  untrouthe  and  his  disaven- 

ture, 
And  that  the  boor  was  shewed  him 

in  figure. 

208.  For  which  he  for  Sibille  his  suster 

sente,  145*-* 

That  called  was  Cassandre  eek  al 

aboute  ; 
And  al  his  dreem  he  tolde  hir  er 

he  stente. 
And  hir  bisoughte  assoilen  him  the 

doute 
Of  the  stionge  boor,  with   tuskes 

stoute ; 
And     fynally,     with-inne     a     litel 

stounde,  1455 

Cassandre  him  gan  right  thus  his 

dreem  expounde. 

209.  She  gan  first  smyle,  and  seyde,  '  O 

brother  dere, 
If  thou   a  sooth   of  this   desyrest 

knowe, 
Thou  most  a  fewe  of  olde  stories 

here, 
To  purpos,  how  that  fortune  over- 

throwe  1460 

Hath  lordes  olde;    through  which, 

with-inne  a  throwe, 
Thou  wel  this  boor  shalt   knowe, 

and  of  what  kinde 
He   comen   is,   as   men    in    bokes 

finde. 

210.  Diane,  whicK  that  wrooth  was  and 

in  ire 
For   Grekes  nolde  doon  hir  sacri- 

fyse,  1465 

Ne  encens  up-on    hir   auter  sette 

a-fyre. 
She,  for  that  Grekes  gonne  hir  so 

dispyse, 
Wrak  hir  in  a  wonder  cruel  wyse. 
For  with  a  boor  as  greet  as  oxe  in 

stalle 


She   made  up  frete  hir   corn   and 
vynes  alle.  1470 

211.  To  slee  this  boor  was  al  the  con- 

tree  reysed, 
A-monges   which    ther    com,   this 

boor  to  see, 
A  mayde,  oon   of  this   world   the 

best  y-preysed; 
And    Meleagre,  lord  of  that  con- 
tree, 
He  lovede  so  this  fresshe  mayden 

free  1475 

That  with  his  manhod,  er  he  wolde 

stente. 
This  boor  he  slow,  and  hir  the  heed 

he  sente; 

212.  Of  which,  as  olde  bokes  tellen  us, 
Ther  roos  a   contek   and   a   greet 

envye;  '479 

And  of  this  lord  descended  Tydeus 
By  ligne,  or  elles  olde  bokes  lye; 
But  how  this  Meleagre  gan  to  dye 
Thorugh  his  moder,  wol  I  yow  not 

telle, 
For  al  to  long  it  were  for  to  dwelle.' 


\_Argumeni  of  the  12  Books  (yStatius' 
Thebais.] 

Associai   profugum   Tideo   primus 

Poll  mite  in  ; 
Tidea    legatuin    docet    insidiasque 

secundus  ; 
Tercius  Heinoniden  canit  et  vates 

1(7  litanies  ; 
Quartus  habet  reges  ineuntes  prelia 

septem ;  4 

Mox  furie  Lenne  quinto  narratur 

et  angiiis  ; 
Archiniori   hustum    sexto    ludiqut 

legutitur  ; 
Dat  Graios  Thebes  et  vatem  Septi- 
mus vmbris  ; 
Octauo    cecidit    Tideus,   s/es,   vita 

Pelasgis ;  8 

Ypoviedon  nono  moritur  cum  Par- 

thonopeo  ; 
fitltttine  percussus,  decimo   Capa- 

neus  superatur  ; 


1485-1535-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


36' 


Vndecimo  sese  perimunt  per  vul- 

n  era  fr  aires  ; 
Argiuam  Jientem  narrat  duodenus 

et  ignein.  12 

213.  She  tolde  eek  how  Tydeus,  er  she 

stente,  1485 

Un-to  the  stronge  citee  of  Thebes, 
To  cleyme   kingdom  of   the  citee, 

wente, 
For  his  felawe,  daun  Polyniites, 
Of  which  the  brother,  daun  Ethyo- 

cles, 
Ful  wrongfully  of  Thebes  held  the 

strengthe;  1490 

This   tolde   she    by  proces,   al    by 

lengthe. 

214.  She    tolde    eek    how    Hemonides 

asterte, 
Whan  Tydeus  slough  fifty  knightes 

stoute. 
She  told  eek  al  the  prophesyes  by 

herte, 
And  how  that  sevene  kinges,  with 

hir  route,  '495 

Bisegeden  the  citee  al  aboute; 
And  of  the  holy  serpent,  and  the 

welle. 
And  of  the  furies,  al  she  gan  him 

telle. 

215.  Of  Archimoris   buryinge   and   the 

pleyes. 
And    how  Amphiorax   fil    through 

the  grounde,  1500 

How   Tydeus   was    slayn,   lord    of 

Argeyes, 
And     how    Ypomedoun     in     litel 

stounde 
Was  dreynt,  and  deed  Parthonope 

of  wounde; 
And     also     how     Cappaneus     the 

proude 
With  thondcr-dint  was  slayn,  that 

cryde  loude.  1505 

216.  She  gan   eek    telle    him    how  that 

either  brother, 
Ethyocles  and  Polimyte  also. 
At    a    scarmyche,    eche    of    hem 

slough  other, 
And  of  Argyveswepinge  and  hir  wo; 


And  how  the  town  was  brent  she 
tolde  eek  tho.  15 10 

And  so  descendeth  doun  from 
gestcs  olile 

To  Diomede,  and  thus  she  spak 
and  tolde. 

217.  'This  ilke  boor  bitokneth  Diomede, 
Tydeus  sone,  that  dijun  descended 

is 
Fro  Meleagre,  that  made  the  boor 

to  blede.  15 15 

And    thy   lady,    wher-so    she    be, 

y-wis. 
This  Diomede  hir  herte  hath,  and 

she  his. 
Weep  if  thou  wolt,  or   leef;     for, 

out  of  doute, 
This    Diomede   is  inne,  and    thou 

art  oute.' 

218.  'Thou  seyst   nat  sooth,'  quod  he, 

'thou  sorceresse,  1520 

With  al  thy  false  goost  of  prophe- 
sy c  ! 

Thou  wenest  been  a  greet  devyn- 
eresse; 

Now  seestow  not  this  fool  of  fan- 
tasye 

Peyneth  hir  on  ladyes  for  to  lye  ? 

Awey,'  quod  he,  '  ther  loves  yeve 
thee  sorwe  !  1525 

Thou  shalt  be  fals,  paraunter,  yet 
to-morwe ! 

219.  As    wel    thou    mightest    lyen    on 

Alceste, 
That  was  of  creatures,  but  men  lye, 
That  ever  weren,  kindest  and  the 

beste. 
For  whanne  hir  housbonde  was  in 

lupartye  1530 

To  dye  him-self,  but-if  she  wolde 

dye, 
She  chees  for  him  to  dye  and  go  to 

helle. 
And  starf  anoon,  as  us  the  bokes 

telle.' 

220.  Cassandre  goth,  and  he  with  cruel 

herte 
For-yat    his   wo,   for   angre   of   hir 
speche ;  1535 


I 


362 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  V. 


[1536-1587. 


And   from  his  bed  al  sodeinly  he 

And  thus  this  worthy  knight  was 

sterte, 

brought  of  ly ve. 

As  though  al  hool  him  hadde  y-mad 

a  leche. 

224.    For  whom,  as  olde  bokes  tellen  us. 

And  day  by  day  he   gan   enquere 

Was  mad  swich  wo,  that  tonge  it 

and  seche 

may  not  telle; 

A  sooth  of  this,  with  al  his  fulle 

And  namely,  the  sorwe  of  Troilus, 

cure; 

That  next  him  was  of  worthinesse 

And  thus  he  dryeth  forth  his  aven- 

welle.                                    1565 

ture.                                      1540 

And    in   this   wo    gan    Troilus    to 

dwelle. 

221.    Fortune,    whiche     that     permuta- 

That,  what  for  sorwe,  and  love,  and 

cioun 

for  unreste. 

Of  thinges  hath,  as  it  is  hir  com- 

Ful ofte  a  day  he  bad   his  herte 

mitted 

breste. 

Through  purveyaunce  and  disposi- 

cioun 

225.    But  natheles,  though  he  gan  him 

Of  heighe  love,  as  regnes  shal  ben 

dispeyre, 

flitted 

And  dradde  ay  that  his  lady  was 

Fro  folk  in  folk,  or  whan  they  shal 

untrewe,                               1570 

ben  smitted,                          1545 

Yet  ay  on  hir  his  herte  gan  repeyre. 

Gan  pulle  awey  the  fetheres  brighte 

And    as    these    loveres    doon,   he 

of  Troye 

soughte  ay  newe 

Fro  day  to  day,  til  they  ben  bare  of 

To  gete  ayein  Criseyde,  bright  of 

loye. 

hewe. 

And   in    his    herte    he   wente   hir 

222.    Among  al  this,  the  fyn  of  the  paro- 

excusinge, 

die 

That  Calkas  causede  al  hir  taryinge. 

Of  Ector   gan   approchen  wonder 

bly  ve ; 

226.    And  ofte  tyme  he  was  in  purpos 

The   fate  wolde   his  soule   sholde 

grete                                     1576 

unbodie,                                1550 

Him-selven  lyk  a  pilgrim  to  disgyse. 

And  shapen  hadde  a  mene  it  out 

To  seen  hir;   but  he  may  not  con- 

to  dryve; 

trefete 

Ayeins  which  fate  him  helpeth  not 

To    been   unknowen   of  folk   that 

to  stryve; 

weren  wyse, 

But  on   a  day  to   fighten  gan  he 

Ne  finde    excuse   aright    that  may 

wende. 

suffyse,                                 1580 

At   which,   alias !   he   caughte   his 

If  he  among  the  Grekes  knowen 

lyves  ende. 

were; 

For  which  he  weep  ful  ofte  many 

223.    For    which    me     thinketh     every 

a  tere. 

maner  wight                        1555 

That    haunteth    armes    oughte   to 

227.   To  hir  he  wroot  yet  ofte  tyme  al 

biwayle 

newe 

The  deeth  of  him  that  was  so  noble 

Ful  pitously,  he  lefte  it  nought  for 

a  knight; 

slouthe. 

For  as  he  drough  a  king  by  thaven- 

Biseching  hir  that,  sin  that  he  was 

tayle, 

trewe,                                     1585 

Unwar  of  this,  Achilles  through  the 

She  wolde  come  ayein  and  holde 

mayle 

hir  trouthe. 

And  through  the  body  gan  him  for 

For  which   Criseyde  up-on  a  day, 

to  ryve;                                  1560 

for  routhe, 

1588-1637.] 


TROILUS   AND   CKISEYDE.     BOOK   V. 


363 


I    take    it    so,   touchinge    al    this 

Which    I    shal    with    dissimulinge 

matere, 

amende. 

Wrot  him  ayein,  and  seyde  as  ye 

And  beth   nought  wrooth,   I  have 

may  here. 

eek  untierstonde. 

How  ye  ne  doon  but  holden  me  in 

228.    '  Cupydes  sone,  ensample  of  goodli- 

honde.                                  1615 

hede,                                    1590 

But  now  no  fors,  I  can  not  in  yow 

0   swerd   of   knighthod,   sours   of 

gesse 

gentilesse ! 

But  alle  trouthe  and  alle  gentilesse. 

How  mighte    a  wight   in   torment 

and  in  drede 

232.    Comen    I    wol,  but    yet    in   swich 

And    helelees,   yow   sende    as   yet 

disioynte 

gladnesse  ? 

I  stonde  as  now,  that  what  yeer  or 

I  hertelees,  I  syke,  I  in  distresse; 

what  day 

Sin   ye  with  me,  nor    I  with  yow 

That  this  shal  be,  that  can  I  not 

may  dele,                             1595 

apoynte.                               1620 

Yow  neither  sende  ich  herte  may 

But   in    effect,   I    prey   yow,   as   I 

nor  hele. 

may, 

Of  your  good  word  and  of  your 

229.    Your    lettres    ful,    the    papir    al 

friendship  ay. 

y-pleynted, 

For  trewely,  whyle  that  my  lyf  may 

Conseyved  hath   myn    hertes   pie- 

dure, 

tee; 

As   for  a   freend,   ye   may   in   me 

I  have  eek  seyn  with  teres  al  de- 

assure. 

peynted 

Your  lettre,  and  how  that  ye  re- 

233,    Yet    preye   I   yow   on  yvel  ye  ne 

queren  me                            1600 

take,                                     1625 

To  come  ayein,  which  yet  ne  may 

That  it  is  short  which  that  I  to  yow 

not  be. 

wry  te ; 

But  why,  lest  that  this  lettre  founden 

I    dar  not,  ther  I  am,  wel  lettres 

were. 

make. 

No  mencioun  ne  make  I  now,  for 

Ne    never    yet   ne   coude    I    wel 

fere. 

endyte. 

Eek    greet    effect    men   wryte    in 

230.   Grevous  to  me,  god  woot,  is  your 

place  lyte. 

unreste. 

Thentente  is  al,   and  nought    the 

Your  haste,  and  that,  the  goddes 

lettres  space;                       1630 

ordenaunce,                         1605 

And  fareth  now  wel,  god  have  you 

It  semeth  not  ye  take  it  for   the 

in  his  grace ! 

beste. 

La  vostre  C.  ' 

Nor   other   thing   nis   in  your   re- 

membraunce, 

234.    This  Troilus  this  lettre  thoughte  al 

As    thinketh    me,    but    only   your 

straunge, 

plesaunce. 

Whan  he  it  saugh,  and  sorwefully 

But  beth  not  wrooth,  and  that  I 

he  sighte; 

yow  biseche; 

Him  thoughte  it  lyk  a  kalendes  of 

For  that  I  tarie,  is  al  for  wikked 

chaunge; 

speche.                                1610 

But    fynally,    he    ful    ne    trowen 

mighte                                    1635 

231.    For  I  have  herd  wel  more  than  I 

That  she  ne  wolde  him  holden  that 

wende, 

she  highte; 

Touchinge  us  two,  how  thinges  ban 

For   with  ful  yvel  wil   list  him  to 

y-stonde; 

leve 

364 

TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK   V.              [1638-16S8. 

That    loveth    wel,    in    swich    cas, 

And  she  him  leyde  ayein  hir  feyth 

though  him  greve. 

to  borwe 
To  kepe  it  ay;   but  now,  ful  wel  he 

235- 

But  natheles,  men  seyn  that,  at  the 

wiste,                                    1665 

laste, 

His  lady  nas  no  lenger  on  to  triste. 

For  any  thing,  men  shal  the  sothe 

see;                                         I 640 

239- 

He  gooth  him  hoom,  and  gan  ful 

And  swich  a  cas  bitidde,  and  that 

sone  sende 

as  faste, 

For  Pandarus  ;    and  al  this  newe 

That  Troilus    wel  understood  that 

chaunce, 

she 

And  of  this  broche,  he  tolde  him 

Nas     not    so    kinde    as   that    hir 

word  and  ende, 

oughte   be. 

Compleyninge  of  hir  hertes  vari- 

And  fynally,  he  woot  now,  out  of 

aunce,                                   1670 

doute. 

His  longe  love,  his   trouthe,   and 

That  al  is  lost  that  he  hath  been 

his  penaunce; 

aboute.                               1 645 

And  after  deeth,  with-outen  wordes 
more. 

236. 

Stood  on  a  day  in  his  malencolye 

Ful  faste  he  cryde,  his  reste  him  to 

This  Troilus,  and  in  suspecioun 

restore. 

Of  hir  for  whom  he  wende  for  to 

dye. 

240, 

Than  spak  he  thus,   O  lady  myn 

And    so    bifel,    that    through-out 

Criseyde, 

Troye  toun, 

Wher  is  your  feyth,  and  wher  is 

As  was  the  gyse,  y-bore    was   up 

your  biheste?                       1675 

and  doun                             1650 

Wher  is  your  love,  wher  is  your 

A  maner  cote-armure,  as  seyth  the 

trouthe,'  he  seyde; 

storie, 

•  Of  Diomede  have  ye  now  al  this 

Biforn  Deiphebe,  in  signe  of  his 

feste ! 

Victoria, 

Alias,  I  wolde  have  trowed  at  the 
leste. 

237- 

The   whiche  cote,  as  telleth  Lol- 

That,  sin  ye  nolde  in  trouthe  to  me 

lius, 

stonde. 

Deiphebe    it   hadde    y-rent    from 

That  ye  thus  nolde  han  holden  me 

Diomede 

inhonde!                             1680 

The  same    day;     and    whan    this 

Troilus                                 1655 

241. 

Who  shal  now  trowe  on  any  othes 

It   saugh,  he   gan   to  taken  of  it 

mo? 

hede, 

Alias,  I  never  wolde  han  wend,  er 

Avysing  of  the  lengthe  and  of  the 

this. 

brede. 

That     ye,    Criseyde,     coude     han 

And  al  the  werk;   but  as  he  gan 

chaunged  so; 

biholde. 

Ne,  but  I  hadde  a-gilt  and   doon 

Ful  sodeinly  his  herte  gan  to  colde, 

amis, 
So  cruel  wende  I  not  your  herte, 

^38. 

As   he    that    on    the    coler   fond 

y-wis,                                    1685 

with-inne                               1660 

To  slee  me  thus;   alias,  your  name 

A  broche,  that  he  Criseyde  yaf  that 

of  trouthe 

morwe 

Is  now  for-doon,  and  that  is  al  my 

That  she  from  Troye  moste  nedes 

routhe. 

twinne, 

In  remembraunce   of  hira  and  of 

242. 

Was  ther  non   other    broche  yow 

his  sorwe; 

liste  lete 

I6S9-I74I-] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEVDE.     BOOK   V. 


365 


To  feffe  with  your  newe  love,'  qiiorl 

he, 
'  But    thilke   broche    that  I,    with 

teres  wete,  1690 

Yow  yaf,  as  for  a  reraembraunce  of 

me? 
Non  other  cause,  alias,  ne  harlde  ye 
But  for  (iespyt,  and  eek  for  that  ye 

mente 
Al-outrely  to  shewen  your  entente  ! 

243.  Thro\igh    which   I  see    that   ciene 

out  of  your  minde  1695 

Ye  han  me  cast,  and   I   ne  can  nor 

may, 
For  al  this  world,  with-in  inyn  herte 

fmde 
To  unloven  yow  a  quarter  of  a  day ! 
In  cursed  tyme  I  born  was,  weyla- 

way ! 
That  ye,  that  doon  me  al  this  wo 

endure,  1700 

Yet  love  I  best  of  any  creature. 

244.  Now  god,'  quod  he,  '  me  sende  yet 

the  grace 
That     I     may     meten     with    this 

Diomede ! 
And  trewely,  if  1  have  might  and 

space, 
Yet  shal  I  make,  I  hope,  his  sydes 

blede.  1705 

O  god,'  quod  he,  '  that   oughtest 

taken  hede 
To  fortheren  trouthe,  and  wronges 

to  punyce. 
Why  niltow  doon  a  vengeaunce  on 

this  vyce  ? 

245.  O  Pandare,  that  in  dramas  for  to 

triste 
Me  blamed  hast,  and  wont  art  ofte 

up-brede,  1 710 

Now  maystow  see  thy-selve,  if  that 

thee  liste. 
How  trewe  is  now  thy  nece,  bright 

Criseyde  ! 
In  sondry  formes,  god  it  woot,'  he 

seyde, 
*  The  goddes   shewen    bothe  loye 

and  tene 
In   slepe,    and    by  my  dreme  it  is 

now  sene.  '7' 5 


246.  And    certaynly,     with-oute     more 

speche. 
From  hennes-forth,  as  ferforth  as  I 

may, 
Myn  owene  deeth  in  armes  wol  I 

seche; 
I    recche    not    how    sone    be    the 

day ! 
But  trewely,  Criseyde,  swete  may. 
Whom  I  have  ay  with  al  my  might 

y-served,  1721 

That  ye  thus  doon,  I  have  it  nought 

deserved.' 

247.  This    Pandarus,    that     alia    these 

thinges  herde. 
And  wiste  wel  he  seyde  a  sooth  of 

this. 
He  nought  a  word    ayein  to  him 

answerde;  1725 

For  sory  of  his  frendes  sorwe  he  is, 
And    shamed,    for    his    nece    hath 

doon  a-mis; 
And  stant,  astoned  of  these  causes 

tweye, 
As  stille  as  stoon;   a  word  ne  coude 

he  seye. 

248.  But  at  the  laste  thus  he  spak,  and 

seyde,  1 730 

'  My  brother  dere,  I  may  thee  do 

no-more. 
What  shulde  I  seyn?    I  hate,  y-wis, 

Criseyde ! 
And  god  wot,  I  wol  hate  hir  ever- 
more ! 
And  that  thou  me  bisoughtest  doon 

of  yore, 
Havinge  un-to  myn  honour  ne  my 

reste  1735 

Right    no  reward,  I  dide  al  that 

thee  leste. 

249.  If  I  dide  ought  that  mighte  lyken 

thee, 
It  is  me  leef;   and  of  this  treson 

now, 
God  woot,  that  it  a  sorwe  is  un-to 

me  ! 
And  dredelees,   for  hertes  ese    of 

yow,  1 740 

Right    fayn    wolde    I    amende    it, 

wiste  I  how. 


366 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE.     BOOK  V. 


[ 1 742-1 796. 


And  fro  this  world,  almighty  god  I 

Reed  Dares,  he  can  telle  hem  alle 

preye, 

y-fere. 

Delivere  hir  sone;    I  can  no-more 

seye.' 

254.    Bisechinge   every   lady   bright    of 

hewe, 

250.    Gret  was  the  sorwe  and  pleynt  of 

And   every  gentil  womman,  what 

Troilus ; 

she  be. 

But  forth  hir  cours  fortune  ay  gan 

That  al  be  that  Criseyde  was  un- 

to  holde.                              1745 

trewe, 

Criseyde  loveth  the  sone  of  Tydeus, 

That  for  that  gilt  she  be  not  wrooth 

And  Troilus   mot   wepe    in  cares 

with  me.                               1775 

colde. 

Ye  may  hir  gilt  in  othere  bokes  see ; 

Swich  is  this  world;   who-so  it  can 

And  gladlier  I  wol  wryten,  if  yow 

biholde, 

leste, 

In  eche  estat  is  litel  hertes  reste; 

Penelopees,  trouthe  and  good  Al- 

God  leve  us  for  to  take  it  for  the 

ceste. 

beste!                                   1750 

255.    Ne  I  sey  not  this  al-only  for  these 

251.    In  many  cruel  batayle,  out  of  drede, 

men, 

Of  Troilus,  this  ilke  noble  knight, 

But  most  for  wommen  that  bitraysed 

As  men  may  in  these  olde  bokes 

be                                          1780 

rede, 

Through  false  folk ;   god  yeve  hem 

Was  sene   his  knighthod  and  his 

sorwe,  amen ! 

grete  might. 

That  with  hir  grete  wit  and  subtil- 

And   dredelees,    his   ire,   day   and 

tee 

night,                                   1755 

Bitrayse  yow  !  and  this  commeveth 

Ful  cruelly  the  Grekes  ay  aboughte ; 

me 

And  alwey  most  this  Diomede  he 

To  speke,  and  in  effect  yow  alle  I 

soughte. 

preye, 

Beth  war  of  men,  and  herkeneth 

252.    And  ofte  tyme,  I  finde  that  they 

what  I  seye  !  —                 1 785 

mette 

With  blody  strokes  and  with  wordes 

256.    Go,  litel  book,  go  litel  myn  trege- 

grete, 

die, 

Assayinge   how   hir   speres   weren 

Ther  god  thy  maker  yet,  er  that  he 

whette;                                  1760 

dye. 

And  god  it  woot,  with  many  a  cruel 

So   sende   might  to  make  in  som 

hete 

comedie ! 

Gan  Troilus  upon  his  helm  to-bete. 

But    litel   book,   no   making   thou 

But  natheles,  fortune  it  nought  ne 

nenvye, 

wolde, 

But  subgit  be  to  alle  poesyc ;    1 790 

Of  otheres  bond  that  either  deyen 

And  kis  the  steppes,  wher-as  thou 

sholde.  — 

seest  pace 

Virgile,  Ovyde,  Omer,  Lucan,  and 

253.    And   if    I    hadde   y-taken   for    to 

Stace. 

wryte                                    1765 

The  armes  of  this  ilke  worthy  man. 

257.    And  for  ther  is  so  greet  diversitee 

Than     wolde    I    of    his    batailles 

In  English  and  in  wryting  of  our 

endyte. 

tonge. 

But  for  that  I  to  wryte  first  bigan 

So  preye  I  god  that  noon  miswryte 

Of  his  love,  I  have  seyd  as  that  I  can. 

thee,                                     1795 

His  worthy  dedes,  who-so  list  hem 

Ne  thee  mismetre  for  defaute   of 

here,                                     1770 

tonge, 

1 797- '848.] 


TROILUS   AND   CRISFYDE.     BOOK   V. 


367 


And  red  wher-so  thou  be,  or  elles 

songe, 
That  thou  be  understonde   I  god 

beseche  ! 
But   yet   to   purpos   of  my  rather 

speche. — 

258.  The  wraththe,  as  I  began  yow  for 

to  seye,  1800 

Of  Troilus,  the   Grekes   boughten 

dere; 
For  thousandes  his  hondes  maden 

deye, 
As  he    that   was   with-outen   any 

pere, 
Save  Ector,  in  his  tyme,  as  I  can 

here. 
But   vveylaway,   save   only   goddes 

wille,  1S05 

Dispitously   him    slough    the   fiers 

Achille. 

259.  And  whan  that  he  was  slayn  in  this 

manere, 
His    lighte    goost    ful    blisfully  is 

went 
Up  to  the  holovvnesse  of  the  seventh 

spere, 
In  convers  letinge  every  element; 
And  ther  he  saugh,  with  ful  avyse- 

ment,  181 1 

The    erratik     sterres,    herkeninge 

armonye 
With    sownes    fulle    of    hevenish 

melodye. 

260.  And  doun  from  thennes  faste  he 

gan  avyse 
This  litel  spot  of  erthe,  that  with 

the  see  1815 

Enbraced  is,  and  fully  gan  despyse 
This  wrecched  world,  and  held  al 

vanitee 
To  respect  of  the  pleyn  felicitee 
That  is  in  hevene  above;    and  at 

the  laste, 
Ther  he  was  slayn,  his  loking  doun 

he  caste;  1820 

261.  And  in  him-self  he  lough  right  at 

the  wo 
Of  hem  that  wepten  for  his  deeth 
so  faste; 


And  dampned  al  our  werk  that  fol- 

wcth  so 
The  blinde  lust,  the  which  that  may 

not  laste. 
And  sholden  al  our  herte  on  hevene 

caste.  1825 

And  forth  he  wente,  shortly  for  to 

telle, 
Ther  as    Mercuric   sorted    him    to 

dwelle.  — 

262.  Swich  fyn  hath,  lo,  this  Troilus  for 

love, 
Swich  fyn  hath  al  his  grete  worthi- 

nesse; 
Swich    fyn    hath    his     estat     real 

above,  1830 

Swich  fyn  his  lust,  swich  fyn  hath 

his  noblesse; 
Swich  fyn  hath  false  worldes  brotel- 

nesse. 
And   thus    bigan    his    lovinge   of 

Criseyde, 
As  I  have  told,  and  in  this  wyse  he 

deyde. 

263.  O  yonge  fresshe  folkes,  he  or  she. 
In  which  that  love  up  groweth  with 

your  age,  1836 

Repeyreth  hoom  from  worldly  vani- 
tee. 
And  of  your  herte  up-casteth  the 

visage 
To  thilke  god  that  after  his  image 
Yow  made,  and  thinketh  al  nis  but 
a  fayre  1840 

This   world,  that  passeth  sone  as 
floures  fayre. 

264.  And   loveth   him,  the   which   that 

right  for  love 
Upon   a   cros,  our    soules    for    to 

beye. 
First   starf,   and   roos,   and   sit    in 

hevene  a-bove; 
For  he  nil  falsen  no  wight,  dar  I 

seye,  1845 

That  wol  his  herte  al  hoollyon  him 

leye. 
And  sin  he  best  to  love  is,  and  most 

meke, 
What  nedeth   feyned  loves  for  to 

seke? 


368 


TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE.     BOOK  V. 


[1848- I 869. 


265. 

Lo    here,    of   Payens   corsed    olde 

And  to  that  sothfast  Crist,  that  starf 

rytes, 

on  rode,                                 i860 

Lo  here,  what  alle  hir  goddes  may 

With  al  niyn  herte  of  mercy  ever  I 

availle;                                 1850 

preye; 

Lo  here,  these  wrecched    worldes 

And  to  the  lord  right  thus  I  speke 

appetytes; 

and  seye : 

Lo  here,  the  fyn  and  guerdon  for 

travaille 

267.    Thou    oon,    and    two,   and    three, 

Of  love,  Appollo,  of  Mars,  of  swich 

eterne  on-lyve. 

rascaille ! 

That  regnest  ay  in  three  and  two 

Lo  here,  the  forme  o€  olde  clerkes 

and  oon. 

speche^ 

Uncircumscript,  and  al  mayst  cir- 

In  poetrye,  if  ye  hir  bokes  seche.  — 

cumscryve,                           1865 
Us     from     visible     and     invisible 

266. 

0   moral    Gower,  this    book  I  di- 

foon 

recte                                     1856 

Defende;   and  to  thy  mercy,  everi- 

To  thee,  and  to  the  philosophical 

choon. 

Strode, 

So  make  us,  lesus,  for  thy  grace 

To  vouchen  sauf,  ther  nede  is,  to 

digne, 

corecte. 

For  love  of  mayde  and  moder  thyn 

Of  your  benignitees  and  zeles  gode. 

benigne !     Amen. 

Explicit  Liber  Troili  et  Criscydis. 


THE    HOUS   OF   FAME. 


BOOK   I. 


Gnn  turne  us  every  dreem  to  gode ! 

For  hit  is  wonder,  by  the  rode, 

To  my  wit,  what  causeth  swevenes 

Either  on  morwes,  or  on  evenes; 

And  why  theffect  folweth  of  sonime,       5 

And  of  soninie  hit  shal  never  come; 

Why  that  is  an  avisioun, 

Ami  this  a  revelacioun; 

Why  this  a  dreem,  why  that  a  sweven, 

And  nat  to  every,  man  liche  even ;  10 

Why  this  a  fant()m,4hese  oracles, 

I  noot;    but  who-so  of  these  miracles 

The  causes  knoweth  bet  than  I, 

Devyne  ho;    for  I  certeinly 

Ne  can  hem  noght,  ne  never  thinke      15 

To  besily  my  wit  to  swinke,  1uvC-t*-»' 

To  knowe  of  hir  signifiaunce 

The  gen'd^fel,  neither  the  distaunce 

Of  tymes  of  hem,  ne  the  causes 

For-why  this  more  than  that  cause  is;  20 

As  if  folkes  compiexiounsittv^ii;.r>A*^^ 

Make  hem  dreme  of  reflexiouns; 

Or  elles  thus,  as  other  sayn. 

For  to  greet  feblenesse  of  brayn, 

By  abstinence,  or  by  seeknesse, 

Prison,  stewej_or  greet  distre^se; 


25 


C)t  elles  by  disordinaunce    ^ •'Cik'^U'^' 
(){  naturel  acustoinaunce,  4  '>'">'• 

Ihat  Soniitia;n  is  to  curious 
In  studio,  or  melancolious,  30 

Or  thus,  so  inly  ful  of  drede, 
That  no  man  may  him  bote  bedej-^ 
Or  elles,  that  devocioun  '^''■'^     C^V?/ 
Of  somme,  and  contemplacioun 
Causeth  swiche  dremes  ofte;  35 

Or  that  the  cruel  lyf  unsofte 
Which  those  ilke  lovers  leden 
That  hopen  over  muche  or  dreden, 
That  ]nircly  hir  impressiouns 
Causeth  hem  avisiouns;  40 

2B 


Or  if  that  spirits  have  the  might 
To  make  folk  to  dreme  a-night         , 
Or  if  the  soule,  of  propre  kinde,  r^"-' w-*^ 
He  so  pariit,  as  men  finde,  Jv><At^t' 
That  hit  forwo^f  that  is  to  come,  45 

And  that  hit  warneth  alio  and  somme 
Of  everiche  of  hir  aventures 
By  avisiouns,  or  Ijy  figures. 
But  that  our  flesh  ne  hath  no  might 
To  understonden  hit  aright,  50 

For  hit  is  warned  to  derkly;  — 
But  why  the  cause  is,  noght  wot  T. 
Wei  worthe,  of  this  thing,  grete  clerkes, 
That  trete  of  this  and  other  werkes; 
r'or  I  of  noon  opinioun  55 

jNil  as  now  make  mencioun, 
Buronly  that  the  holy  rode 
Turne  us  every  dreem  to  gode  ! 
For  never,  sith  that  I  was  born, 
Ne  no  man  elles,  me  biforn,  60 

Mette,  I  trowe  stedfastly, 
So  wonderful  a  dreem  as  I 
The  tenthe  day  [dide]  of  Deccmbre, 
The  which,  as  I  can  now  remembre, 
I  wol  yow  tellen  every  del.  65 


TiiK  Invocation. 

But  at  my  ginning,  trusteth  wel, 
I  wol  make  invocacioun. 
With  special  devocioun, 
Unto  the  god  of  slope  anoon. 
That  dwelleth  in  a  cave  of  stoon  70 

Upon  a  streem  that  comth  fro  I.ete,    . 
That  is  a  flood  of  helle  unswete;  ^Jvi'' ^' 
Bosyde  a  folk  men  clepe  (imerie,  •, 

Ther  skpoth  ay  this  god  unmerie    ••^f'Msj'i^ 
With  his  sle])y  thousand  sones  75 

'I'hat  alway  for  to  slope  hir  wone  is  — 
And  to  this  god,  that  I  of  rede, 
369  \i^ 


370 


THE   IIOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK   I. 


[78-180. 


Preye  I,  that  he  wol  me  spede  K^  C 
My  sweven  for  to  telle  arigh^/ 
If  every  dreem  stonde-iiflTTs  rnight.       80 
And  he,  that  mover  is  of  al 
That  is  and  was,  and  ever  shal, 
So  yive  hem  loye  that  hit  here    ,« 
Of  alle  that  they  dreme  to-yere,4V^  '/*'<*'' 
And  for  to  stonden  alle  in  grace  85 

Of  hir  loves,  or  in  what  place 
That  hem  wer  levest  for  to  stonde,  O^ov* 
And  shelde  hem  fro  povert  and  shcmde. 
And  fro  uiihaj^j'pe  and  ech  disese, 
And  sende  hem  al  that  may  hem  plese,  90 
That  take  hit  wel,  and  scorne  hit  noght, 
Ne  hit  misddm^  in  her  thoght 
Through  malicious  entencioun. 
And  who-so,  through  presumpcioun. 
Or  hate  or  scome.  or  through  envye,    95 
^^Dispyt,  or  Ia^e,'"or1vilanye,     tg ; c l?<.d.^<'h 
^     Misdeme  hit,  preye  I  lesus  god 

That  (dreme  he  barfoot,  dreme  he  shod), 

That  every  harm  that  any  man 

Hath  had,  sith  [that]  the  world  began, 

Befalle  him  therof,  or  he  sterve,  lOl 

And  graunte  he  mote  hit  ful  deserve, 

Lo  !   with  swich  a  conclusioun 

As  had  of  his  avisioun 

Cresus,  that  was  king  of  Lyde,  105 

That  high  upon  a  gebet  dyde  ! 

This  prayer  shal  h5"hTVe  of  me; 

I  am  no  bet  in  charite ! 

Now  herkneth,  as  I  have  you  seyd, 
What  that  I  mette,  or  I  abreyd.  no 

The  Dream. 

Of  Decembre  the  tenth e  day, 
Whan  hit  was  night,  to  slepe  I  lay 
Right  ther  as  I  was  wont  to  done, 
And  111  on  slepe  wonder  sone. 
As  he  that  wery  was  for-go  1 15 

On  pilgrimage  myles  two 
To  the  ct^'eeylft  Leonard, 
To  make  lythe  of  that  was  hard. 
But  as  I  sleep,  me  mette  I  was 
Within  a  temple  y-mad  of  glas;  I20 

In  whiche  ther  were  mo  images 
Of  gold,  stondinge  in  sondry  stages, 
And  mo  riche  tabernacles. 
And  with  p^'feMTo  pinacles, 
And  mo  curious  portreytures,  125 

And  (|a^nte  maner  of  figures 
Of  olde  werke,  then  I  saw  ever. 


For  certeynly,  I  niste  never 

Wher  that  I  was,  but  wel  wiste  I, 

Hit  was  of  Venus  redely,  130 

The  temple;    for,  in  portreyture, 

I  saw  anoon-right  hir  figure 

Naked  fletinge  in  a  see.  •  |-V\ 

And  also  on  hir  heed,  parde,  y ""^       ' 

Hir  rose-garlond  whyt  and  reed,  135 

And  hir  comb  to  kembe  hir  heed, 

Hir  dowves,  and  daun  Cupido, 

Hir  blinde  sone,  and  Vulcano, 

That  in  his  face  was  ful  broun. 

But  as  I  romed  up  and  doun,  140 

I  fond  that  on  a  wal  ther  was 
Thus  writen,  on  a  v^K%{  bras  : 
'  I  wol  now  singe,  if  that  I  can. 
The  amies,  and  al-so  the  man. 
That  first  cam,  through  his  destinee,  145 
Fugitif  of  Troye  contree. 
In  Itaile,  \\ith  ful  moche  pyne,  .y 

Unto  the  s^rondes  of  Lavyne.'        sO^A'  "^ 
And  tho  began*frie  story  anoon,    ^, 
As  I  shal  telle  yow  echoon.  ^J^;^^  tJ2Ai50 

First  saw  I  the  destruccioun 
Of  Troye,  through  the  Greek  Sinoun, 
[That]  with  his  false  forsweringe. 
And  his  chere  and  his  lesinge 
Made  the  hors  broght  into  Troye,        155 
Thorgh  which  Troyens  loste  al  hir  loye. 
And  after  this  was  grave,  alias ! 
How  Ilioun  assailed  was 
And  wonne,  and  king  Priam  y-slayn, 
And  Polites  his  sone,  certayn,  160 

Dispitously,  of  dan_Pirrus.       '^\'  ^ 

And  next  that  saw  I  how  Venus,  ^     I 

Whan  that  she  saw  the  castel  brende,  v^ 
Doun  fro  the  hevene  gan  descende. 
And  bad  hir  sone  Eneas  flee;  165 

And  how  he  fledde,  and  how  that  he 
Escaped  was  from  al  the  pres,  ^'^' 
And  took  his  fader,  Anchises, 
And  bar  him  on  his  bakke  away, 
Cryinge,  '  Alias,  and  welaway  ! '  170     « 

The  whiche  Anchises  in  his  hond^i^  ^j-  <^-* 
Bar  the  goddes  of  the  londe,  \xj<*-_  i\  ^  An,/' 
Thilke  that  unbrende  were.      '^      -i^^O-^ 

And  I  saw  next,  in  alle  this  fere,  '^ 
How  Oreusa,  daun  Eneas  wyf,  175 

Which  that  he  lovede  as  his  lyf, 
And  hir  yonge  sone  lulo. 
And  eek  Ascanius  also,  \      \   » 

Fledden  eek  with  drery  chere,  V^A  ^^^''^ 
That  hit  was  pitee  for  to  here;  180 


181-285.] 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     ROOK  I. 


371 


And  in  a  forest,  as  they  wente, 

At  a  turninge  of  a  wente, 

Mow  Creusa  was  y-lost,  alias! 

That  deed,  [but]  iioot  I  how,  she  was; 

How    he    hir    soughte,    and     how   hir 

gost  185 

Bad  him  to  flee  the  Grekes  ost,  S«v 
And  seyde,  he  moste  unto  Itaile, 
As  was  his  destinee,  sauns  faille; 
That  hit  was  jiitee  for  to  here. 
Whan  hir  spirit  gan  appere,  190 

The  wordfs  that  she  to  him^ seyde,  ^ 

And  for  to  kepe  hir  sonc  ^mTpreyde^  ,A 
Ther  saw  I  graven  eek  how  he,       tS*- \ 
His  fader  eek,  and  his,meyrie^J[       Vv-*"^ 
With  iiis  shippes  gan  to'sayle''^^         195 
Toward  the  contree  of  Itaile, 
As  streight  as  that  they  mighte  go. 

Thcr  saw  I  thee,  cruel  luno, 
That  art  daun  lupiteres  wyf, 
That  hast  y-hated,  al  thy  lyf,  200 

Al  the  Troyanisshe  blood,  V. 

Renne  and  crye,  as  thou  were  wood,"'''^ 
On  Eolus,  the  god  of  windes, 
To  blowen  out,  of  alle  kindes,       x/i^ 
So  loude,  that  he  shulde  drenched    205 
Lord  and  lady,  gronie  and  wenche 
Of  al  the  Troyan  nacioun, 
Withuute  any  savacioun.  .  J 

Ther  saw  I  swich  tempeste  aryse^jNJ"^ 
That  every  herte  mighte  agryse,  V^"'^  2IO 
To  see  hit  peynted  on  the  walle. 

Ther  saw  I  graven  eek  withalle,       j»^ 
Venus,  how  ye,  my  lady  dere,         fS^ 
Wcpinge  with  ful  woful  chere,  (M^ 
Prayen  lupiter  an  hye  215 

To  save  and  kepe  that  navye 
Of  the  Troyan  Eneas, 
Sith  that  he  hir  sone  was. 

Ther  saw  I  loves  Venus  kisse. 
And  graunted  of  the  tempest  Hsse. 
Ther  saw  I  how  the  tempest  stentCj^^x' 
And  how  with  alle  pyne  he  wente,  V 
And  ]Kevely  took  arrivage 
In  the  contree  of  Cartage; 
And  on  the  morwe,  how  that  he  225 

And  a  knight,  hight  Achatee, 
Metten  with  Venus  that  day, 
Goinge  in  a  queynt  array,  fWt    c^»^o^^ 
As  she  had  hen  an  hunteresse,  ., 

With  wind  blovvinge  upon  hir  treafeS?^  230 
How  Eneas  gan  him  to  pleyne. 
Whan  that  he  knew  hir,  of  his  peyne; 


^ 


235 


240 


#1 


And  how  his  shippes  dreynte  were 
Or  elles  lost,  he  niste  where; 
How  she  gan  him  comforte  tho, 
And  bad  him  to  Cartage  go. 
And  ther  he  shulde  his  folk  finde, 
That  in  the  see  were  left  behinde. 

And,  shortly  of  this  thing  to  pace, 
She  made  Eneas  so  in  grace 
Of  Dido,  quene  of  that  contree. 
That,  shortly  for  to  tellen,  she 
]?ecam  his  love,  and  leet  him  do 
That  that  wedding  longeth  to. 
ItTSfliat  shulde  I  speke  more  queynte,-^''24\j 
Or  peyne  me  my  wordes  peynte, 
To  speke  of  love?  hit  wol  not  be;  J^ 

I  can  not  of  that  facultec.  y/  )^j^^  ^,^^,  H^K^  '% 
And  eek  to  telle  the  manere  Cvt-tf 

How  they  acjueynteden  ijvj^jej  256 

Hit  were  a  long  proces  to  telle. 
And  over  long  for  yow  to  dwelle. 

Ther  saw  I  grave,  how  Eneas 
Tolde  Dido  every  cas,  Ciuk./w<.-i, 
That  him  \\as„tid  upon  these^,^^^ 

And  after  gTatewaSf^ow  she 
Made  of  him,  shortly,  at  00  word, 
Hir  lyf,  hir  love,  hir  lust,  hir  lord; 
And  dide  him  al  the  reverence. 
And  leyde  on  him  al  the  dispence, 
That  any  woman  mighte  do, 
Weninge  hit  had  al  be  so,  ftilij*.^ 
As  he  hir  swoor;    and  her-by  denied 
That  he  was  good,  for  he  swich  semed. 
Alias  !  what  harm  doth  apparence,      265 
Whan  hit  is  fals  in  existence  ! 
For  he  to  hir  a  traitour  was; 
Wherfor  she  jdow  hir-self,  alias! 

Lo,  how  a'^wmnan  doth  amis. 
To  love  him  that  unknowen  is  ! 
P'or,  by  Crist,  lo !   thus  hit  fareth; 
'  Hit  is  not  al  gold,  that  glareth.' 

Fnr^  ^1-so  l)rrviil.p   T  lypl   myn  heed,    "? 

Ther  may  be  under  goodliheed 

Kevered  many  a  shrewed  vyce; 

Therfor  be  no  wight  so  nyce, 

To  take  a  love  only  for  chere,  (X'^ic--* 

For  speche,  or  for  frtfndly  manere; 

For  this  shal  every  woman  fmde 

That  som  man,  of  his  pure  kinde,        280 

Wol  shewen  outward  the  faireste. 

Til  he  have  caught  that  what  him  lestc;  ,;Vjj.  S  1  '~^ 

And  thanne  wol  he  causes  tinde. 

And  swere  how  that  she  is  unkinde. 

Or  fals,  or  prevy,  or  double  was.  285 


255 


260 


270 
275 


372 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK   I. 


[28^391. 


Al  this  seye  I  by  Eneas 

And  Dido,  and  hir  nyce  lest,  k«t,'J^ 

That  lovede  al  to  sone  a  gest;     .ix.\Mv8J"ii(^ 

Therfor  I  vvol  seye  a  proverbe, 

That '  he  that  fully  knoweth  therbe     290 

May  saufly  Jeye  hit  to  his  ye  '; 

Withoule  (Jraed,  this  is  no  lye. 

But  let  us^l|)"&Ke  of  Eneas, 
How  he  betrayed  hir,  alias  ! 
And  lefte  hir  ful  unkindely.  295 

So  whan  she  saw  al-utterly, 
f— That  he  wolde  hir  of  trouthe  faile, 
And  wende  fro  hir  to  Itaile, 
She  gan  to  wringe  hir  hondes  two. 

'  Alias  ! '  quod  she,  '  what  me  is  wo  ! 
Alias  !   is  every  man  thus  trewe,  301 

That  every  yere  wolde  have  a  newe, 
If  hit  so  longe  tyme  dure, 
Dr  elles  three,  peraventure? 
As  thus :  of  oon  he  wolde  have  fame    305 
In  magnifying  ofjiisnamej    ^^,, 
Another  for  frendsKipT^eith  he| 
And  yet  ther  shal  the  thridde  be, 
That  shal  be  taken  for  delyt 
Lo,  or  for  singular  profyt.'  310 

In  swiche  wordes  gan  to  pleyne 
Dido  of  hir  grete  peyne, 
As  me  mette  redely;   .  M 
Non  other  auctour  alegge  I. 
'  Alias  ! '  quod  she, '  my  swete  herte,    315 
Have  pitee  on  my  sorwes  smerte. 
And  slee  me  not !   go  noght  away  ! 
O  woful  Dido,  wel  away  !  ' 
Quod  she  to  hir-selve  tho. 
'O  Eneas  !   what  wil  ye  do?  320 

O,  that  your  love,  ne  your  bonde, 
That  ye  han  sworn  with  your  right  honde, 
Ne  my  cruel  deeth,'  quod  she, 
'  May  holde  yow  still  heer  with  me  ! 
O,  haveth  of  my  deeth  pitee  !  325 

Y-wis,  my  dere  herte,  ye 
Knowen  ful  wel  that  never  yit, 
As  fer-forth  as  I  hadde  wit, 
_/\giUe  [I]  yow  in  thoght  ne  deed. 
O,  have  ye  men  swich  goodliheed        330 
In  speche,  and  never  a  deel  of  trouthe? 
Alias,  that  ever  hadde  routhe 
Any  woman  on  any  man  ! 
Now  see  I  wel,  and  telle  can, 
We  wrecched  wimmen  conjie  jiQii_aEt ; 
P'or  certeyn,  for  the  more  part,-  336 

Thus  we  be  served  everichone.    \ 
How  sore  that  ye  men  conne  grone, 


Anoon  as  we  have  yow  receyved  ! 
Certeinly  we  ben  deceyved;  340 

For,  though  your  love  laste  a  sesoun, 
Wayte  upon  the  conclusioun, 
And  eek  how  that  ye  determynen,  1 


And  for|,the  .more  part  diffyneo.    ■jj 
'  O,  ym^S/iiiy  that  I  was  born  !   0 


345 


■^ 


For  through  yow  is  my  name  lorn, 
And  alle  myn  actes  red  and  songe 
Over  al  this  lond,  on  every  tonge. 
O  wikke  Fame  !   for  ther  nis 
Nothing  so  swift,  lo,  as  she  is  !  350 

O,  sooth  is,  every  thing  is  wist, 
Though  hit  be  kevered  with  the  mist. 
Eek,  thogh  I  mighte  duren  ever. 
That  I  have  doon,  rekever  I  never, 
That  I  ne  shal  be  seyd,  alias, 
Y-shamed  be  through  Eneas^___^  ) 
And  that  I  shal  thus  lugecTEe— - 
"  Lo,  right  as  she  hath  doon,  now  she 
Wol  do  eftsones,  hardily ;  "  (VJj 

Thus  seythtTTe  peple  prevely.' —       s^b 
But  that  is  doon,  nis  not  to  done;-^^ 
Al  hir  compleynt  ne  al  hir  mone, 
Certeyn,  availeth  hir  not  a  stre. 

And  whan  she  wiste  sothly  he 
Was  forth  unto  his  shippes  goon,         365 
She  in  hir  chambre  wente  anoon, 
And  called  on  hir  suster  Anne, 
And  gan  hir  to  compleyne  thanne; 
And  seyde,  that  she  cause  was 
That  she  first  lovede  [Eneas],  370 

And  thus  counseilled  hir  therto. 
But  what !  when  this  was  seyd  and  do, 
She  rpojihir-selve  to  the  herte. 
And  deyde  through  the  wounde  smerte. 
But  al  the  maner  how  she  ileyde,         375    XjJ 
And  al  the  wordes  that  she  seyde,  .^^  ., 

Who-so  to  knowe  hit  hath  purpos,     Oj.      •^ 
Reed  Virgile  in  Eneidos  ^      ,_^  -^    V' 

Or  the  Epistle  of  Ovyde,  Jj^"  ^  .'.^ 

What  that  she  wroot  or  that  She  dyde; 
And  nere  hit  to  long  to  endyte,  381 

By  god,  I  wolde  hit  here  wryte. 

But,  welaway  !  the  harm,  the  routhe, 
That  hath  betid  for  swich  untrouthe, 
As  men  may  ofte  in  bokes  rede,  385 

And  al  day  seen  hit  yet  in  dede, 
That  for  to  thenken  hit,  a  tene  is. 

Lo,  Demophon,  duk'of  Athenis, 
How  he  forswor  him  ful  falsly. 
And  trayed  Phillis  wikkedly,  390 

That  kinges  doghter  was  of  Trace, 


*< 


r-S\ 


^' 


^-y 


392-496.] 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOUK    I. 


373 


Ana  falsly  gan  his  terme  pace,  '  ■^^>^ 
Ami  when  she  wiste  that  he  was  fals,    . 
She  hcng  hir-sclf  right  by  the  hals,  Ir^ct 
For  he  had  do  hir  swich  untrouthe  ;   395 
Lo !  was  not  this  a  wo  and  roullie? 

Eek  lo  !  how  fals  and  reccheles 
Was  to  Vis'-t-'ida  Achilles,      ?,,'>'.^-'^ 
And  I'ai.-.,e  w  *cnone;  '^''' ^    Q 

And  lasun  iu>,e  ^,^ile  ;         CI^m"'^ 
And  eft  lason  15  thuV^J 
And  Ercules  to  j.  -^anira ; 
P'or  he  leftc  hir  for  lole. 
That  made  him  cacche  his  deeth 


,  400 


I  low  fals  eek  was  he,  Theseus;        405 
That,  as  the  story  telleth  us, 
How  he  betrayetl  Adriane; 
The  devel  be  his  soules  bane ! 
For  had  he  laughed,  had  he  loured. 
He  moste  have  be  al  devoured, 
If  Adriane  ne  had  y-be  !        "" 
And,  for  she  had  of  him  pitee, 
She  made  him  fro  the  dethe  escape,   f 
And  he  made  hir  a  ful  fals  lapej  1^^^/'-' 
For  after  this,  within  a  whyle        ^      415 
He  lefte  hir  slepinge  in  an  yle, 
Deserte  alone,  right  in  the  see, 
And  stal  away,  and  leet  hir  be; 
And  took  hir  suster  Phedra  tho 
With  him,  and  gan  to  shippe  go. 
And  yet  he  had  y-sworn  to  here. 
On  al  that  ever  he  mighte  swere, 
That,  so  she  saved  him  his  lyf. 
He  wolde  have  take  hir  to  his  wyf; 
For  she  desired  nothing  elles, 
In  certein,  as  the  book  us  telles. 

But  to  excusen  Eneas 
Fulliche  of  al  his  greet  trespas, 
The  book  seyth,  Mercurie,  sauns  faile, 
Bad  him  go  into  Itaile,  430 

And  leve  Auffrykes  regioun, 
And  Dido  and  hir  faire  toun. 

Tho  saw  I  grave,  how  to  Itaile 
Daun  Eneas  is  go  to  saile; 
And  how  the  tempest  al  began,  435 

And  how  he  loste  his  steresman. 
Which  that  the  stere,  or  he  took  keep, 
Smot  over-bord,  lo !  as  he  sleep. 

And  also  saw  I  how  Sibyle 
And  Eneas,  besyde  an  yle,  440 

To  helle  wente,  for  to  see 
His  fader,  Anchises  the  free. 
How  he  ther  fond  Palinurus, 
And  Dido,  and  eek  Deiphebus; 


410 


420 


425 


\M 


r  fct 


And  every  tourment  eek  in  helle         445 

Saw  he,  which  is  long  to  telle. 

Which  who-so  willeth  fur  to  knowe, 

He  moste  rede  many  a  rowe 

On  Virgile  or  on  Claudian, 

Or  Daunte,  that  hit  telle  can.         _.      450 

Tho  saw  I  grave  al  tharivaile  fw   ('■^|  o^^'^^--^ 
That  Eneas  had  in  Itaile; 
And  with  king  Latine  his  tretee, 
And  alle  the  batailles  that  he 
Was  at  him-self,  and  eek  his  knightes 
Or  he  had  al  y-vvonne  his  rightes;       456 
And  how  he  Turnus  refte,]jis  lyf, 
And  wan  Lavyna  to  hl?wff  ;''«^'^^^ 
And  al  the  mervelous  signals 
Of  the  goddes  celestials;  460 

How,  maugre  luno,  Eneas,  . 
For  al  hir  slighte  and  hir  compas,      cVt^ 
Acheved  al  his  aventure; 
For  lupiter  took  of  him  cure 
At  the  prayere  of  Venus;  465 

The  which e  I  preye  alway  save  us, 
And  us  ay  of  our  sorwes  lighte  ! 

Whan  I  had  seyen  al  this  sighte 
In  this  noble  temple  thus, 
'  A,    Lord  ! '    thoughte   I,    '  that   madest 
us,  470 

Yet  saw  I  never  swich  noblesse 
Of  images,  ne  swich  richesse, 
As  I  saw  graven  in  this  chirche;  n 

But  not  woot  I  who  dide  hem  wirche,\ioiTJn 
Ne  wher  I  am,  ne  in  what  contree.      475    u 
But  now  wol  I  go  out  and  see. 
Right  at  the  wiket,  if  I  can 
See  o-wher  stering  aii^  man, 
That  may  me  tdle~wher  I  am.' 

When  I  out  at  the  dores  cam,  4S0 

I  faste  aboute  me  beheld. 
Then  saw  I  but  a  large  feld. 
As  fer  as  that  I  mighte  see, 
Withouten  toun,  or  hous,  (Jr  tree. 
Or  bush,  or  gras,  or  ?i'^d'"1ond;  485 

For  al  the  feld  nas  but  of  S(jnd 
As  smal  as  man  may  see  yet  lye  V^  •"-*■ 
In  the  desert  of  Libye; 
Ne  I  no  maner  creature. 
That  is  y-formed  by  nature,  490      , 

Ne  saw,  me  [for]  to  rede_o£_VKisse.  i.^s^^""-"    *  . 
'O  Crist,'  thoughte  I,"'TTiat  art  in  blisse,      * 
Fro  fantom  and  illusioun 
Me  save  !  '  and  with  devocioun 
Myn  yen  to  the  heven  I  caste.  495 

Tho  was  I  war,  lo !  at  the  lastc. 


(A*'*! 


374 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK   II. 


[497-583- 


That  faste  by  the  sonne,  as  hye 
As  kenne  mighte  I  with  myn  ye, 
Me  thoughte  I  saw  an  egle  sore, 
But  that  hit  semed  moche  more 
Then  I  had  any  egle  seyn. 
But  this  as  sooth  as  deeth,  certeyn. 


500 


Explicit  liber  primus. 


Hit  was  of  golde,  and  shoon  so  brighte, 
That  never  saw  men  such  a  sighte, 
But-if  the  heven  hadde  y-wonne  505 

Al  newe  of  golde  another  sonne; 
So  shoon  the  egles  fcthres  brighte, 
And  somwhat  dounward  gan  hit  lighte. 


BOOK   II. 


a  an^^ 
■>n  eve* 


Incii'it  Liber  Secunuus. 
Proem. 
Now  herkneth,  every  maner  man 


510 


515 


520 


525 


That  English  understonde  can, 
And  listeth  of  my  dreem  to  lere; 
For  now  at  erste  shul  ye  here 
So  selly  an  avisioun, 
That  Isaye,  ne  Scipioun, 
Ne  king  Nabugodonosor, 
Pharo,  Turnus,  ne  Eleanor, 
Ne  mette  swich  a  dreem  as  this ! 
Now  faire  blisful,  O  Cipris, 
So  be  my  favour  at  this  tyme ! 
And  ye,  me  to  endyte  and  ryme 
Helpeth,  that  on  Parnaso  dwelle 
By  Elicon  the  clere  welle. 

O  Thought,  that  vvroot  al  that  I  mette. 
And  in  the  tresorie  hit  shette 
Of  my  brayn  !   now  shal  men  see 
If  any  vertu  in  thee  be, 
To  tellen  al  my  dreem  aright; 
Now  kythe  thyn  engyn  and  might ! 

The  Dream. 

This  egle,  of  which  I  have  yow  told. 
That  shoon  with  fethres  as  of  gold,     530 
Which  that  so  hye  gan  to  sore, 
I  gan  beholde  more  and  more, 
To  see  hir  beautee  and  the  wonder; 
But  never  was  ther  dint  of  thonder, 
Ne  that  thing  that  men  calle  foudre. 
That  smoot  somtyme  a  tour  to  poudre, 
And  in  his  swifte  coming  brende. 
That  so  swythe  gan  descende. 
As  this  foul,  whan  hit  behelde 
That  I  a-roume  was  in  the  felde;         540 
And  with  his  grimme  pawes  stron'ge. 
Within  his  sharpe  nayles  longe, 


535 


Me,  fleinge,  at  a  swappe  he  hente. 

And  with  his  sours  agayn  up  wente, 

Me  caryinge  in  his  clawes  starke  545 

As  lightly  as  I  were  a  larke. 

How  high,  I  can  not  telle  yow, 

For  I  cam  up,  I  niste  how. 

For  so  astonied  and  a-sweved 

Was  every  vertu  in  my  heved,  550 

What  with  his  sours  and  with  my  drede. 

That  al  my  feling  gan  to  dede; 

For-why  hit  was  to  greet  affray. 

Thus  I  longe  in  his  clawes  lay. 
Til  at  the  laste  he  to  me  spak  555 

In  mannes  vols,  and  seyde,  '  Awak  ! 
And  be  not  so  a-gast,  for  shame  ! ' 
And  called  me  tho  by  my  name. 
And,  for  I  sholde  the  bet  abreyde  — 
Me  mette  — '  Awak,'  to  me  he  seyde,  560 
Right  in  the  same  vols  and  stevene 
That  useth  oon  I  coude  nevene; 
And  with  that  vols,  soth  for  to  sayn. 
My  minde  cam  to  me  agayn; 
For  hit  was  goodly  seyd  to  me,  565 

So  nas  hit  never  wont  to  be. 

And  herwithal  I  gan  to  stere, 
And  he  me  in  his  feet  to  bere. 
Til  that  he  felte  that  I  had  hete. 
And  felte  eek  tho  myn  herte  bete.       570 
And  tho  gan  he  me  to  disporte, 
And  with  wordcs  to  comforte. 
And  sayde  twyes,  '  Seynte  Marie  ! 
Thou  art  noyous  for  to  carie, 
Anct  nothing  nedeth  hit,  parde  !  575 

For  al-so  wis  god  helpe  me 
As  thou  non  harm  shall  have  of  this; 
And  this  cas,  that  betid  thee  is. 
Is  for  thy  lore  and  for  thy  prow;  — 
Let  see  !   darst  thou  yet  loke  now?      580 
Be  ful  assured,  boldely, 
I  am  thy  frend.'     And  therwith  I 
Gan  for  to  wondren  in  my  minde. 


5S4  -668.J 


TIJE    1I(_)US    OF    KAMI'"..     1J(  KJK    II. 


375 


'O  god,'  thoughte  I,  'that  madest  kinde, 

Shal  I  noil  oilier  weycs  dye?  5S5 

Wher  loves  wol  me  stellifye, 

Or  what  tiling  may  tliis  signifye? 

I  neither  am  Enot:,  ne  Klye, 

Ne  Romulus,  ne  Ganymede 

That  was  y-I)ore  up,  as  men  reile,         590 

To  hevene  with  dan  lupitcr, 

And  maad  the  gotldes  iintelcr.' 

Lo  !   this  was  tho  my  fantasye  ! 
But  he  that  bar  me  gan  espye 
That  I  so  thoghte,  and  seyde  this : —  595 
'Thou  demest  of  thy-self  amis; 
For  loves  is  not  ther-al)oute  — 
I  dar  wel  putte  thee  out  of  doutc  — 
To  malce  of  thee  as  yet  a  sterre. 
But  er  I  here  thee  moche  ferre,  600 

I  wol  thee  telle  what  I  am, 
Ami  whider  thou  shall,  and  why  I  cam 
To  done  this,  so  that  thou  take 
Good  herte,  and  not  for  fere  quake.' 
'  Gladly,'    quod    I.       '  Now    wel,'    quod 
he :  —  605 

'  Firsl  I,  that  in  my  feet  have  thee. 
Of  which  ihou  hast  a  feer  and  wonder. 
Am  dwelling  with  the  god  of  thonder, 
Which  that  men  callen  lupiter, 
That  dooth  me  flee  ful  ofle  fer  610 

To  do  al  his  coniaundement. 
And  for  this  cause  he  halh  me  sent 
To  thee  :   now  herke,  by  thy  trouthe  ! 
Certeyn,  he  halh  of  thee  routhe, 
That  thou  so  longe  trewely  615 

Hast  served  so  ententifly 
Ilis  blinde  nevew  Cupido, 
And  fair  Venus  [goddesse]  also, 
Withoule  guerdoun  ever  yit, 
And  nevertheles  hast  set  thy  wit  —     620 
Although  that  in  thy  hede  ful  lyte  is  — 
To  make  bokes,  songes,  dytees, 
In  ryme,  or  elles  in  cadence, 
As  thou  best  canst,  in  reverence 
Of  Love,  and  of  his  servants  eke,         625 
That  have  his  servise  soght,  and  seke; 
And  peynest  thee  to  preyse  his  art, 
Althogh  thou  haddesl  never  part; 
Wherfor,  al-so  god  me  blesse, 
loves  halt  hit  greet  humblesse  630 

And  verlu  eek,  that  thou  wolt  make 
A-ni};lil  ful  ofle  tliyn  heed  to  ake. 
In  thy  studie  so  thou  wrytest. 
And  cver-mo  of  love  endytesl, 
In  honour  of  him  and  preysinges,        635 


And  in  his  folkes  furtheringes. 

And  in  hir  matere  al  devysest. 

And  noglit  him  nor  his  folk  despyscst, 

.Mlhougli  Ihou  mayst  go  in  the  daunce 

Of  hem  that  him  list  not  avaunce.        640 

'  Wherfor,  as  I  seyde,  y-wis, 
lupiter  considereth  this. 
And  also,  beau  sir,  oilier  tliinges; 
Thai  is,  that  Ihou  hast  no  tydinges 
Of  Loves  folk,  if  they  be  glade,  645 

Ne  of  noght  elles  that  god  made; 
And  ncjght  only  fro  fer  contree 
That  ther  no  tyding  comlh  lo  thee. 
But  of  thy  verray  neyghebores. 
That  dwellen  almost  al  thy  dores,        650 
Thou  herest  neillier  that  ne  this; 
For  whan  thy  labour  doon  al  is, 
And  hast  y-maad  thy  rekeninges, 
In  stede  of  teste  and  newe  thinges, 
Thou  gost  hoom  to  thy  hous  anoon;   655 
And,  also  domb  as  any  stoon. 
Thou  sittest  at  another  boke, 
Til  fully  daswed  is  thy  loke. 
And  livest  thus  as  an  hermyte, 
Although  thyn  abstinence  is  lyte.         660 

'  And-  Iherfor  loves,  through  his  grace, 
Wol  that  I  here  thee  to  a  place. 
Which  that  hight  the  IIoits  of  Fame, 
To  do  thee  som  disport  and  game, 
In  som  recompensacioun  665 

Of  labour  and  devocioun 
That  thou  hast  had,  lo  !   causeles. 
To  Cujiido,  the  reccheles  ! 
And  thus  this  god,  Ihorgh  his  meryte, 
Wol  with  simi  maner  thing  thee  quyte, 
So  that  thou  wolt  be  of  good  chere.    671 
For  truste  wel,  that  thou  shall  here. 
When  we  be  comen  ther  I  seye, 
Mo  wonder  thinges,  dar  I  leye. 
Of  Loves  folke  mo  tydinges,  675 

Bothe  soth-sawes  and  lesinges; 
And  mo  loves  newe  begonne. 
And  longe  y-served  loves  wonne. 
And  mo  loves  casuelly 
That  been  betid,  no  man  wot  why,      680 
But  as  a  blind  man  slert  an  hare; 
And  more  lolytee  and  fare, 
Whyl  that  they  finde  love  of  stele. 
As  ihinketh  hem,  and  over-al  wele; 
Mo  discords,  and  mo  lelousyes,  685 

Mo  murmurs,  and  mo  novelryes. 
And  mo  dissimulaciouns. 
And  feyned  reparaciouns; 


376 


THE   HOUS   OF  FAME.     BOOK   II. 


[689-792 


And  mo  berdes  in  two  houres 
Withoute  rasour  or  sisoures  690 

Y-maad,  than  greynes  be  of  sondes; 
And  eke  mo  holdinge  in  hondes, 
And  also  mo  renovelaunces 
■  Of  olde  forleten  aqueyntaunces; 
Mo  love-dayes  and  acordes  695 

Then  on  instruments  ben  cordes; 
And  eke  of  loves  mo  eschaur.ges 
Than  ever  comes  were  in  graunges; 
Unelhe  niaistow  trowen  this?  '  — 
Quod  he,     '  No,  helpe  me  god  so  wis  ! '  — 
Quod  I.     'No?   why?'    quod   he.     'For 
hit  701 

Were  impossible,  to  my  wit, 
Though  that  Fame  hadde  al  the  pyes 
In  al  a  realme,  and  al  the  spyes, 
How  that  yet  she  shulde  here  al  this,  705 
Or  they  espye  hit.'     '  O  yis,  yis  !  ' 
Quod  he  to  me,  '  that  can  I  preve 
By  resoun,  worthy  for  to  leve. 
So  that  thou  yeve  thyn  advertence 
To  understonde  my  sentence.  710 

'  First    shalt    thou    heren    wher     she 
dwelleth. 
And  so  thyn  owne  book  hit  telleth; 
Hir  paleys  stant,  as  I  shal  seye, 
Right  even  in  middes  of  the  weye 
Betwixen  hevene,  erthe,  and  see;         715 
That,  what-so-ever  in  al  these  three 
Is  spoken,  in  privee  or  aperte, 
The  wey  therto  is  so  overte, 
And  stant  eek  in  so  luste  a  place, 
That  every  soun  mot  to  hit  pace,  720 

Or  what  so  comth  fro  any  tonge, 
Be  hit  rouned,  red,  or  songe, 
Or  spoke  in  seurtee  or  drede, 
Certein,  hit  moste  thider  nede. 

'Now  herkne  wel;    for-why  I  wille 
Tellen  thee  a  propre  skile,  726 

And  worthy  demonstracioun 
In  myn  imagynacioun. 

'  Geffrey,  thou  wost  right  wel  this, 
That  every  kindly  thing  that  is,  730 

Hath  a  kindly  stede  ther  he 
May  best  in  hit  conserved  be; 
Unto  which  place  every  thing, 
Through  his  kindly  enclyning, 
Moveth  for  to  come  to,  735 

Whan  that  hit  is  awey  therfro; 
As  thus;    lo,  thou  mayst  al  day  see 
That  any  thing  that  hevy  be, 
As  stoon  or  leed,  or  thing  of  wighte, 


And  ber  hit  never  so  hye  on  highte,    740 
Lat  go  thyn  hand,  hit  falleth  doun. 

'  Right  so  seye  I  by  fyre  or  soun. 
Or  smoke,  or  other  thinges  lighte, 
Alwey  they  seke  upward  on  highte; 
Whyl  ech  of  hem  is  at  his  large,  745 

Light  thing  up,  and  dounward  charge. 

'  And  for  this  cause  mayst  thou  see, 
That  every  river  to  the  see 
Enclyned  is  to  go,  by  kinde. 
And  by  these  skilles,  as  I  finde,  750 

Hath  hsh  dwellinge  in  floode  and  see, 
And  trees  eek  in  erthe  be. 
Thus  every  thing,  by  this  resoun, 
Hath  his  propre  mansioun, 
To  which  hit  seketh  to  repaire,  755 

As  ther  hit  shulde  not  apaire. 
Lo,  this  sentence  is  knowen  couthe 
Of  every  philosophres  mouthe. 
As  Aristotle  and  dan  Platon, 
And  other  clerkes  many  oon;  760 

And  to  conhrme  my  resoun. 
Thou  wost  wel  this,  that  speche  is  soun, 
Or  elles  no  man  mighte  hit  here; 
Now  herkne  what  I  wol  thee  lere. 

'  Soun  is  noght  but  air  y-broken,     765 
And  every  speche  that  is  spoken, 
Loud  or  privee,  foul  or  fair. 
In  his  substaunce  is  but  air; 
For  as  flaumbe  is  but  lighted  smoke, 
Right  so  soun  is  air  y-broke.  770 

But  this  may  be  in  many  wyse, 
Of  which  I  wil  thee  two  devyse, 
As  soun  that  comth  of  pype  or  harpe. 
For  whan  a  pype  is  blowen  sharpe, 
The  air  is  twist  with  violence,  775 

And  rent;   lo,  this  is  my  sentence; 
Eek,  whan  men  harpe-stringes  smyte, 
Whether  hit  be  moche  or  lyte, 
Lo,  with  the  strook  the  air  to-breketh; 
Right  so  hit  breketh  whan  men  speketh. 
Thus  wost  thou  wel  what  thing  is  speche. 

'  Now  hennesforth  I  wol  thee  teche. 
How  every  speche,  or  noise,  or  soun, 
Throgh  his  multiplicacioun. 
Though  hit  were  pyped  of  a  mouse,    785 
Moot  nede  come  to  P'ames  House. 
I  preve  hit  thus  —  tak  hede  now  — 
By  experience;    for  if  that  thou 
Throwe  on  water  now  a  stoon, 
Wel  wost  thou,  hit  wol  make  anoon    790 
A  litel  roundel  as  a  cercle, 
Paraventure  brood  as  a  covercle; 


793-897-] 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK   II. 


377 


And  right  anoon  thou  shalt  see  weel, 
That  wheel  wol  cause  another  wheel, 
And    that    the    thridde,    and    su    forth, 
brother,  795 

Every  cercle  causing  other, 
Wydcr  than  himselve  was; 
Antl  tlius,  fro  roundel  to  compas, 
Ech  aboute  other  goinge, 
Caused  of  othres  steringe,  800 

And  multiplying  ever-mo, 
Til  that  hit  l)e  so  fer  y-go 
That  hit  at  bothe  brinl<es  be. 
Al-thogh  thou  mowe  hit  not  y-see 
Above,  hit  goth  yet  alway  under,         805 
Although  thou  thcnke  hit  a  gret  wonder. 
And  who-so  seith  of  trouthe  I  varie, 
Bid  him  proven  the  contrarie. 
And  right  thus  every  word,  y-wis, 
That  loude  or  privee  spoken  is,  810 

Movetii  first  an  air  aboute. 
And  of  this  moving,  out  of  doute, 
Anotlier  air  anoon  is  meved, 
As  I  have  of  the  water  preved, 
That  every  cercle  causeth  other.  815 

Right  so  of  air,  my  leve  brother; 
Everich  air  in  other  stereth 
More  and  more,  and  speche  up  bereth. 
Or  vois,  or  noise,  or  word,  or  soun, 
Ay  through  multiplicacioun,  820 

Til  hit  be  atte  House  of  Fame;  — 
Tak  hit  in  ernest  or  in  game. 

'  Now  have  I  told,  if  thou  have  minde. 
How  speche  or  soun,  of  pure  kinde, 
Enclyned  is  upward  to  meve;  825 

This,  mayst  thou  fele,  wel  I  preve. 
And  that  [the  mansioun],  y-wis, 
That  every  thing  enclyned  to  is. 
Hath  his  kiiideliche  stede  : 
That  sheweth  hit,  withouten  drede,     S30 
That  kindely  the  mansioun 
Of  every  speche,  of  every  soun, 
Be  hit  either  foul  or  fair. 
Hath  his  kinde  place  in  air. 
And  sin  that  every  thing,  that  is  835 

Out  of  his  kinde  place,  y-wis, 
Movetli  tliider  for  to  go 
If  hit  a-weye  be  therfro. 
As  I  Ijcfore  have  preved  thee, 
Hit  seweth,  every  soun,  pardee,  840 

Moveth  kindely  to  pace 
Al  up  into  his  kindely  place. 
And  this  place  of  which  I  telle, 
Ther  as  l"'ame  list  to  dvvclle, 


845 


850 


855 


Is  set  amiddes  of  these  three, 
Ileven,  erthe,  and  eek  the  see, 
As  most  conservatif  the  soun. 
Than  is  this  the  conclusioun. 
That  every  speche  of  every  man, 
As  I  thee  telle  first  began, 
Moveth  up  on  high  to  pace 
Kindely  to  Fames  place. 

'Telle  me  this  feithfully. 
Have  1  not  preved  thus  simply, 
Withouten  any  subtiltee 
Of  speche,  or  gret  prolixitee 
Of  termes  of  philosophye. 
Of  figures  of  poetrye, 
Or  colours  of  rethoryke? 
Pardee,  hit  oghte  thee  to  lyke;  860 

For  hard  langage  and  hard  matere 
Is  encombrous  for  to  here 
At  ones;    wost  thou  not  wel  this?' 
And  I  answerede,  and  seyde,  '  Yis.' 

'Aha!'  quod  he,  '  lo,  so  1  can       865 
Lewedly  to  a  lewed  man 
Speke,  and  she  we  him  swiche  skiles. 
That  he  may  shake  hem  by  the  biles, 
So  palpable  they  shulden  be. 
But  tel  me  this,  now  pray  I  thee,  870 

How  thinkth  thee  my  conclusioun?  ' 
[Quod  he].     'A  good  persuasioun,' 
Quod  I,  'hit  is;    and  lyk  to  be 
Right  so  as  thou  hast  preved  me.' 
'  By  god,'  quod  he,  '  and  as  I  leve,       875 
Thou  shalt  have  yit,  or  hit  be  eve. 
Of  every  word  of  this  sentence 
A  preve,  by  experience; 
And  with  thyn  eres  heren  wel 
Top  and  tail,  and  everydel,  880 

That  every  word  that  spoken  is 
Comth  into  Fames  Ilous,  y-wis, 
As  I  have  seyd;   what  wilt  thou  more?' 
And  with  this  word  ujiper  to  sore 
He  gan,  and  seyde, '  By  Seynt  lame  !    8S5 
Now  wil  we  speken  al  of  game.'  — 

'  How  farest  thou?'  quod  he  to  me. 
'  Wel,'  (juod  I.     '  Now  see,'  quod  he, 
'  By  thy  trouthe,  yond  adoun, 
Wher  that  thou  knowest  any  toun,      S90 
Or  hous,  or  any  other  thing. 
And  M  ban  thou  hast  of  ought  knowing, 
Loke  that  thou  warne  me. 
And  I  anoon  shal  telle  thee 
How  fer  that  thou  art  now  therfro.'     895 

And  I  adoun  gan  loken  tho. 
And  behelil  fcldes  and  plaines, 


378 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK   II. 


[89S-1003. 


And  now  hilles,  and  now  mountaines, 

Now  valeys,  and  now  forestes, 

And  now,  unethes,  grete  bestes;  900 

Now  riveres,  now  citees, 

Now  tounes,  and  now  grete  trees, 

Now  shippes  sailing  in  the  see. 

But  thus  sone  in  a  whyle  he 
Was  tlowen  fro  the  grounde  so  hye.    905 
That  al  the  world,  as  to  rayn  ye, 
No  more  semed  than  a  prikke; 
Or  elles  was  the  air  so  thikke 
That  1  ne  mighte  not  discerne. 
With  that  he  spak  to  me  as  yerne,       910 
And  seyde  :   '  Seestow  any  [toun] 
Or  ought  thou  knowest  yonder  doun? 

I  seyde,  '  Nay.'     '  No  wonder  nis,' 
Quod  he,  *  for  half  so  high  as  this 
Nas  Alexander  Macedo;  915 

Ne  the  king,  dan  Scipio, 
That  saw  in  dreme,  at  point  devys, 
Helle  and  erthe,  and  paradys; 
Ne  eek  the  wrecche  Dedalus, 
Ne  his  child,  nyce  Icarus,  920 

That  fleigh  so  highe  that  the  hete 
His  winges  malt,  and  he  fel  wete 
In-mid  the  see,  and  ther  he  dreynte. 
For  whom  was  maked  moch  compleynte. 

'  Now  turn  upward,'  quod  he, '  thy  face. 
And  behold  this  large  place,  926 

This  air;   but  loke  thou  ne  be 
Adrad  of  hem  that  thou  shalt  see; 
For  in  this  regioun,  certein, 
Dwelleth  many  a  citezein,  930 

Of  which  that  speketh  dan  Plato. 
These  ben  the  eyrish  bestes,  lo !  ' 
And  so  saw  I  al  that  meynee 
Bothe  goon  and  also  flee. 
'Now,'  quod  he  tho,  'cast  up  thyn  ye; 
See  yonder,  lo,  the  Galaxye,  936 

Which  men  clepeth  the  Milky  Wey, 
For  hit  is  whyt :   and  somme,  parfey, 
Callen  hit  Watlinge  Strete  : 
That  ones  was  y-brent  with  hete,         940 
Whan  the  sonnes  sone,  the  rede, 
That  highte  Pheton,  wolde  lede 
Algate  his  fader  cart,  and  gye. 
The  cart-hors  gc^nne  wel  espye 
That  he  ne  coude  no  governaunce,      945 
And  gonne  for  to  lepe  and  launce. 
And  beren  him  now  up,  now  doun. 
Til  that  he  saw  the  Scorpioun,   " 
Which  that  in  heven  a  signe  is  yit. 
And  he,  for  ferde,  loste  his  wit,  950 


Of  that,  and  leet  the  reynes  goon 

Ofhishors;    and  they  anoon 

Gonne  up  to  mounte,  and  doun  descende 

Til  bothe  the  eyr  and  erthe  brende; 

Til  lupiter,  lo,  atte  laste  955 

Him  slow,  and  fro  the  carte  caste. 

Lo,  is  it  not  a  greet  mischaunce. 

To  lete  a  fole  han  governaunce 

Of  thing  that  he  can  not  dcmeine?' 

And  with  this  word,  soth  for  to  seyne, 
He  gan  alway  upper  to  sore,  961 

And  gladded  me  ay  more  and  more. 
So  feithfully  to  me  spak  he. 

Tho  gan  I  loken  under  me, 
And  beheld  the  eyrish  bestes,  965 

Cloudes,  mistes,  and  tempestes, 
Snowes,  hailes,  reinjs,  windes. 
And  thengendring  in  hir  kindes, 
And  al  the  wey  through  whiche  I  cam; 
'  O  god,'  quod  I,  '  that  made  Adam,    970 
Moche  is  thy  might  and  thy  noblesse  !  ' 

And  tho  thoughte  I  upon  Boece, 
That  writ,  '  a  thought  may  flee  so  hye. 
With  fetheres  of  Philosophye, 
To  passen  everich  element;  975 

And  whan  he  hath  so  fer  y-went, 
Than  may  be  seen,  behind  his  bak, 
j^  Cloud,  and  al  that  I  of  spak.' 

TFo  gan  I  wexen  in  a  were. 
And  seyde,  '  I  woot  wel  I  am  here;     980 
But  wher  in  body  or  in  gost 
I  noot,  y-wis;   but  god,  thou  wost !  ' 
For  more  <Jeer  entendement 
Nadde  he  me  never  yit  y-sent. 
And  than  thoughte  I  on  Marcian,       985 
And  eek  on  Anteclaudian, 
That  sooth  was  hir  descripcioun 
Of  al  the  hevenes  regioun. 
As  fer  as  that  I  saw  the  preve; 
Therfor  I  can  heni  now  beleve.  990 

With  that  this  egle  gan  to  crye : 
'  Lat  be,'  quod  he,  '  thy  fantasye; 
Wilt  thou  lere  of  sterres  aught?' 
'Nay,  certeinly,'  quod  I,  'right  naught; 
And  why?  for  I  am  now  to  old.'  995 

'  Elles  I  wolde  thee  have  told,' 
Quod  he,  '  the  sterres  names,  lo. 
And  al  the  hevenes  signes  to. 
And  which  they  been.'    '  No  fors,'  quod  I. 
'  Yis,  pardee,'  quod  he;    '  vvostovv  why? 
For  whan  thou  redest  poetrye,  lOOl 

How  goddes  gonne  stellifyc 
Brid,  fish,  beste,  or  him  or  here, 


1004-1090.] 


THE    nous   OF    FAME.     1500K    II. 


379 


As  the  Raven,  or  cither  Bcrc, 

Or  .\riones  liarpe  fyn,  1005 

Castor,  Pollux,  or  Dclphyn, 

Or  Atlantcs  doughtres  scvcne, 

How  allc  these  arn  set  in  hevene; 

l''or    thuuj;h    thou    have    liem    ofte    on 

hondc. 
Vet  nostow  not  wher  that  they  stonde.' 
'  No  fors,'  quod  I, '  hit  is  no  ncde;      loi  I 
I  leve  as  wel,  so  god  me  spede, 
Hem  that  wryte  of  this  matere. 
As  though  I  knew  hir  places  here; 
And  eek  they  shynen  here  so  brighte, 
Hit  shulde  shenden  al  my  sighte,       1016 
To  loke  on  hem.'     '  That  may  wel  be,' 
Quod  he.     And  so  forth  bar  he  me 
A  whyl,  and  than  he  gan  to  crye, 
\."-  That  never  herde  I  thing  so  hye,       1020 
i*''"'  ^'i'Tow^up  the  heed;    for  al  is  wel; 

.^cU^^    Seynt  lulyan,  lo,  bon  hostel! 

ji/*",         See  here  the  Hous  of  Fame,  lo  ! 

*|it^  Maistow  not  heren  that  1  do?  ' 

'  What?' quod  I.   'The  grete  soun,' 1025 

Quod  he,  '  that  rumbleth  up  and  doun 

In  Fames  Hous,  ful  of  tydinges, 

Bothe  of  fair  speche  and  chydinges, 

And  of  fals  and  soth  compouned. 

Herkne  wel;   hit  is  not  rouned.  1030 

Ilerestow  not  the  grete  swogh?  ' 

'  Yis,  pardee,'  quod  I,  'wel  y-nogh.' 

'And  what  soun  is  it  lyk?'  quod  he. 

'  Peter  !   lyk  beting  of  the  see,' 

Quod  I,  'again  tlie  roches  holowe,     1035 

Wlian  tempest  doth  the  shippesswalowe; 

And  lat  a  man  stonde,  out  of  doute, 

A  myle  thens,  and  here  hit  route; 

Or  elles  lyk  the  last  liumblinge 

After  the  clappe  of  a  thundringe,       1040 

When  love^  hath  the  air  y-bete; 

But  hit  doth  me  for  fere  swete.' 

'  Nay,  dred  thee  not  thereof,'  quod  he, 

'  Hit  is  nothing  wil  byten  thee; 

Thou  shalt  noil  harm  have,  trewely.'   I045 

And  with  this  word  bothe  he  and  I 
As  nigh  the  place  arryved  were 


As  men  may  casten  with  a  spere. 
I  iiiste  how,  but  in  a  strete 
He  sette  me  faire  on  my  fete,  1050 

And  seydc,  '  Walke  forth  a  pas. 
And  tak  thyn  aventure  or  cas, 
That  thou  shalt  iinde  in  Fames  place.' 
'  Now,'  quod  I,  '  whyl  we  han  space 
To  speke,  or  that  I  go  fro  thee,  1055 

For  the  love  of  god,  tel  me, 
In  sooth,  that  wil  I  of  thee  lere, 
If  this  noise  that  I  here 
Be,  as  I  have  herd  thee  tellen, 
Of  folk  that  doun  in  erthe  dwcllcn,    1060 
And  cointh  here  in  the  same  wyse 
As  I  thee  herde  or  this  devyse; 
And  that  ther  lyves  body  nis 
In  al  that  hous  that  yonder  is. 
That  maketh  al  this  loude  fare?'        1065 
'No,'  fjuod  he,  'by  Seynte  Clare, 
And  also  wis  god  rede  me  ! 
But  o  thinge  I  wil  warne  thee 
Of  the  which  thou  wolt  have  wonder. 
Lo,  to  the  House  of  Fame  yonder     1070 
Thou  wost  how  cometh  every  speche, 
Hit  nedeth  noght  thee  eft  to  techc. 
But  understond  now  right  wel  this; 
Whan  any  speche  y-comcn  is 
Up  to  the  paleys,  anon-right  '075 

Hit  wexeth  lyk  the  same  wight. 
Which  that  the  word  in  erthe  spak,  / 

Be  hit  clothed  reed  or  blak;  ''•  <- '"^ *> ' 'l'^,  .  ^V  ^ 
And  hath  so  verray  his  lyknesse  '  '^■*-*  <^*^^-*^ 
That    spak    the    word,    that    thou   wilt 

gesse  1080 

That  hit  the  same  body  be, 
Man  or  woman,  he  or  she. 
And  is  not  this  a  wonder  thing? ' 
'  Yis,'  quod  I  tho,  '  by  hevene  king  !  ' 
And   with    this    worde,    '  Farwel,'   quod 

he,  10S5 

'And  here  I  wol  abyden  thee; 
And  god  of  hevene  sende  thee  grace, 
Som  good  to  lernen  in  tiiis  place.' 
And  I  of  him  took  leve  anoon, 
And  gan  forth  to  the  paleys  goon.      1090 


Explicit  liber  secundtis. 


380 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK   III. 


[1091-1181. 


BOOK   III. 


Incipit  Liber  Tercius. 
Invocation. 

0  GOD  of  science  and  of  light. 

Apollo,  through  thy  grete  might,      ,    .  \y 
This  litel  laste  book  thou  gye  !  >i>'^.,ui^"' 
Nat  that  I  wilne,  for  maistrye,         ''''  , 
Here  art  poetical  be  shewed;  1095 

But,  for  the  rym  is  light  and  lewed, 
Yit  make  hit  sumwhat  agreable, 
^.JJl^bpiigii  5om,  yer^Jaile  in^  a^llable ; 
lAnd  that  I  do  no  diligence     "N, 
jTo  shewe  craft,  but  o  sentence.y        1 100 
Aiid  If,  (Itv)iiL  s4irtTrrTlraiTr'~ — ■ 

Wilt  helpe  me  to  shewe  now 

That  in  myn  hede  y-niarked  is  — 

Lo,  that  is  for  to  menen  this. 

The  Hous  of  Fame  to  descryve —     1105 

Thou  shalt  see  me  go,  as  blyve. 

Unto  the  nexte  laure  I  see, 

And  kisse  hit,  for  hit  is  thy  tree; 

Now  entreth  in  my  breste  anoon !  — 

The  Dream. 

Whan  I  was  fro  this  egle  goon,  1 1 10 

1  gan  beholde  upon  this  place. 
And  certein,  or  I  ferther  pace, 
I  wol  yow  al  the  shap  devyse 

Of  hous  and  site ;  and  al  the  wyse 
How  I  gan  to  this  place  aproche       1115 
That  stood  upon  so  high  a  roche, 
Hyer  stant  ther  noon  in  Spaine. 
But  up  I  clomb  with  alle  paine. 
And  though  to  climbe  hit  greved  me, 
Yit  I  ententif  was  to  see,  1120 

And  for  to  pouren  wonder  lowe, 
"'  If  I  coude  any  weyes  knowe 

What  maner  stoon  this  roche  was; 

For  hit  was  lyk  a  thing  of  glas. 

But  that  hit  shoon  ful  more  clere;     1 1 25 

But  of  what  congeled  matere 

Hit  was,  I  niste  redely. 

But  at  the  laste  espyed  I, 
And  found  that  hit  was,  every  deel 
A  roche  of  yse,  and  not  of  steel.        1 130 
Thoughte  I,  '  By  Seynt  Thomas  of  Kent ! 
This  were  a  feble  foundement 


To  bilden  on  a  place  hye ; 

He  oughte  him  litel  glorifyc 

That  her-on  liilt,  god  so  me  save  ! '     1 135 

Tho  saw  I  al  the  half  y-grave 
With  famous  folkes  names  fele, 
That  had  y-been  in  mochel  wele, 
And  hir  fames  wyde  y-blowe. 
But  welunethes  coude  I  knowe         1140 
Any  lettres  for  to  rede 
Hir  names  by;    for,  out  of  drede, 
They  were  almost  of-thowed  so. 
That  of  the  lettres  oon  or  two 
Was  molte  away  of  every  name  1 145 

So  unfamous  was  wexe  hir  faniL ; 
But  men  seyn,  '  What  may  ever  laste?' 

Tho  gan  I  in  myn  herte  caste, 
That  they  were  molte  awey  with  hete, 
And  not  awey  with  stormes  bete.       1 150 
P'or  on  that  other  syde  I  sey 
Of  this  hill,  that  northward  lay, 
How  hit  was  writen  ful  of  names 
Of  folk  that  hadden  grete  fames 
Of  olde  tyme,  and  yit  they  were  1 155 

As  fresshe  as  men  had  writen  hem  there 
The  selve  day  right,  or  that  houre 
That  I  upon  hem  gan  to  pt)ure. 
But  wel  I  wiste  what  hit  made; 
Hit  was  conserved  with  the  shade  — 
Al  this  wrytinge  that  I  sy —  1161 

Of  a  castel,  that  stood  on  hy, 
And  stood  eek  on  so  cold  a  place, 
That  hete  mighte  hit  not  deface. 

Tho  gan  I  up  the  hille  to  goon,     1 165 
And  fond  upon  the  coppe  a  woon, 
That  alle  the  men  that  ben  00  lyve 
Ne  han  the  cunning  to  descryve 
The  beautee  of  that  ilke  place, 
Ne  coude  casten  no  compace  11 70 

Swiche  another  for  to  make. 
That  mighte  of  beautee  be  his  make, 
Ne  [be]  so  wonderliche  y-wrought; 
That  hit  astonieth  yit  my  thought. 
And  maketh  al  my  wit  to  swinke       1 1 75 
On  this  castel  to  bethinke. 
So  that  the  grete  craft,  beautee, 
The  cast,  the  curiositee 
Ne  can  I  not  to  yow  devyse, 
My  wit  ne  may  me  not  suffyse.  1 180 

But  natheles  al  the  substance 


[18^2-1286.] 

But  many  sul.tacompassn.^es, 
Babewinnes  and  pnades 

•Ful  the  castel,  al  aboute -- 

Iher  h'=^7,     \^ g^^el  and  sharpe, 
That  souncd  botne  wci 
!    Orpheus  ful  craftely, 
:'    Andonhissyde  fasteby,  ^^^^ 

Sat  the  harper  Orion, 
And  Eacides  Chiron, 
And  other  harpers  many  con, 

And  the  Bret  t^lascurion; 
I       Ar-^^^male  harpers  with  her  glees      ^^^^ 

Se    h  under  hem  in  sees. 


1215 


^ 


ho  saugh  V  sionuci.  ..— ■ 
'fr;hem,albyhemselve, 

(w  thousand  tymes  twelve. 
It^nadenloudemenstralcyes 

ornemuse  and  shaUnyes 
L, many  other  manerpype, 

Tc  craftely  begunne  pype 
.theindoucetandmrede 
hatbenatfesteswith   be^^^^^^^^ 

l^trthiseliUlherdej^-J,. 

'^^l^Slrf^anAt^t^ 
And  of  Athcnes  dan  P^^u.  is. 
And  Marcia  that  lost  her  skin, 
Bothe  m  face,  body,  and  chin, 
?'or  that  she  .•oldeenvyen,lo! 

^;;j?-;;:t;i:::^^^-andyonge. 

Pypers  of  the  Uuche  tonge. 


Tn  lerne  love-daunces,  springes, 
reve     anHhesestraungetlunges. 
'^Ksrughl  in  another  place 

Of^vinntttspeketWir^ms. 

Ther  herde  I  loab  trumpe  also,         1245 

iheodomas,  and  other  mo, 

And  alle  that  used  clarion 

In  Cataloigne  and  Aragon. 

lhathihirtyn-f--°"^Xe  1250 

T.  lerne  saugh  I  trumpe  there.  i 

To  lerne,  saug  ^^ 

Ther  saugh  1  sitte  in  01 
Plevinge  upon  sondry  glees, 
Scl'e  that  I  cannot  nevene 

Ther  saugh  1  pieyeu  i  5  ^^^^ 

Magiciens  and  tregetours, 
Andp"itonesses,charmeresses, 

bldewicches,  sorceresses. 
That  use  exorsisaciouns. 

To  "»''«•  "^"'„T„hich  m.gyk 
rS'°aS?enhoo.o,syU^       ..,o 

Ther     saugh    1,    anu  ^^75 

ThatTs'ilch  art  don  men  ban  fame. 
Ther  saugh  I  Colletregetour 

Of  al  the  peple  that  1  say,    _^ 

Fro  ^---^^'";^"^th^f:l  M;eholde,  1285 
Whan  1  ha.   al  "^'^   01  h^ije, 

And  fond  me  lous,  and  nougm  y 


1220 


1225 


1230 


382 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK   III. 


[1287-1392. 


And  eft  y-mused  longe  whyle 
Upon  these  walles  of  beryle, 
That  shoon  ful  lighter  than  a  glas, 
And  made  wcl  more  than  hit  was      1 290 
To  semen,  every  thing,  y-\vis, 
As  kinde  thing  of  fames  is; 
I  gan  forth  romen  til  I  fond 
The  castel-yate  on  my  right  hond, 
Which  that  so  wel  corven  was  1295 

That  never  swich  another  nas; 
And  yit  hit  was  by  aventure 
Y-wrought,  as  often  as  by  cure. 
C^tiAjOiJha  -^Hit  nedeth  noght  yovv  for  to  tellen, 

To  make  yow  to  longe  dwellen,  1 300 

Of  this  yates  florisshinges, 
Ne  of  compasses,  ne  of  kervinges, 
Ne  how  they  hatte  in  masoneries, 
As,  corbets  fulie  of  imageries. 
But,  lord  !   so  fair  hit  was  to  shewe,  1 305 
For  hit  was  al  with  gold  behewe. 
But  in  I  wente,  and  that  anoon; 
Ther  niette  I  crying  many  oon, — 
'  A  larges,  larges,  hold  up  wel ! 
God  save  the  lady  of  this  pel,  1310 

Our  owne  gentil  lady  Fame, 
And  hem  that  wilnen  to  have  name 
Of  us  ! '     Thus  herde  I  cryen  alle, 
And  faste  comen  out  of  halle. 
And  shoken  nobles  and  sterlinges.     1315 
'  And  s  )mme  crouned  were  as  kinges, 

With  crounes  wroght  ful  of  losenges; 
And  many  riban,  and  many  frenges 
Were  on  hir  clothes  trewely. 

Tho  atte  laste  aspyed  I  1320 

That  pursevauntes  and  heraudes, 
That  cryen  riche  folkes  laudes. 
Hit  weren  alle;    and  every  man 
Of  hem,  as  I  yow  tellen  can. 
Had  on  him  throwen  a  vesture,  1325 

Which  that  men  clepe  a  cote-armure, 
Enbrowded  wonderliche  riche, 
Al-though  they  nere  nought  y-liche. 
But  noght  nil  I,  so  mote  1  thryve. 
Been  aboute  to  discryve  1330 

Al  these  amies  that  ther  weren, 
That  they  thus  on  hir  cotes  beren, 
For  hit  to  me  were  impossii:)le; 
Men  mighle  make  of  hem  a  bible 
Twenty  foot  thikke,  as  I  trowe.         1335 
J      For  certeyn,  who-so  coude  y-knowe 
\  Mighte  ther  alle  the  armes  seen 

Of  famous  folk  that  han  y-been 
In  Aufl'rike,  Europe,  and  Asye, 


Sith  first  began  the  chevalrye.  '340 

Lo !   how  shulde  I  now  telle  al  this? 
Ne  of  the  halle  eek  what  nede  is 
To  tellen  yow,  that  every  wal 
Of  hit,  and  floor,  and  roof  and  al 
Was  plated  half  a  fote  thikke  1345 

Of  gold,  and  that  nas  no-thing  wikke,  • 
But,  for  to  prove  in  alle  wyse. 
As  fyn  as  ducat  in  Venyse, 
Of  whiche  to  lyte  al  in  my  pouche  is? 
And  they  wer  set  as  thikke  of  nouchis 
FuUe  of  the  fynest  st(jnes  faire,  1351 

That  men  re(]e  in  the  Lajiidaire, 
As  greses  growen  in  a  mede; 
But  hit  were  al  to  longe  to  rede 
The  names;    and  therfore  I  pace.       1355, 

But  in  this  riche  lusty  place, 
That  Fames  halle  called  was, 
Ful  moche  prees  of  folk  ther  nas, 
Ne  crouding,  for  to  mochil  prees. 
But  al  on  hye,  above  a  dees,  1 360 

Sitte  in  a  see  imperial. 
That  maad  was  of  a  rubee  al, 
Which  that  a  carbuncle  is  y-called, 
I  saugh,  perpetually  y-stalled, 
A  feminyne  creature;  1365 

That  never  formed  by  nature 
Nas  swich  another  thing  y-seye. 
For  althertirst,  soth  for  to  seye, 
Me  thoughte  that  she  was  so  lyte, 
That  the  lengthe  of  a  cubyte  1 

Was  lenger  than  she  semed  be; 
But  thus  sone,  in  a  whyle,  she 
Hir  tho  so  wonderliche  streighte. 
That  with  hir  feet  she  therthe  reighti 
And  with  hir  heed  she  touched  heve 
Ther  as  shynen  sterres  sevene^^^ 
And  ther-to  eek,  as  to  my  wit, 
I  saugh  a  gretter  wonder  yit, 
Upon  hir  eyen  to  beholde; 
But  certeyn  I  hem  never  tolde;  13?' 

For  as  fele  eyen  hadde  she 
As  fetheres  upon  foules  be, 
Or  weren  on  the  bestes  foure, 
That  goddes  trone  gunne  honoure, 
As  lohn  writ  in  thapocalips.  1385 

Hir  heer,  that  oundy  was  and  crips. 
As  burned  gold  hit  shoon  to  see. 
And  sooth  to  tellen,  also  she 
Had  also  fele  up-stonding  eras 
And  tongues,  as  on  bestes  heres;      J39, 
And  on  hir  feet  wexen  saugh  I  c^^ 

Partriches  winges  redely. 


/ 


I393-I498.] 


THE   HOUS   OF 


FAME, 

t 


BOOK   III. 


383 


But,  liird  !  the  perrie  and  the  richesse 
I  saujjh  sitting  on  this  goddcsse ! 
And,  lord  I   the  hevenish  mclodye      1395 
Of  songcs,  fill  of  armonye, 
I  herde  aboute  her  trone  y-songe, 
That  al  the  paleys-walles  ronge  ! 
So  song  the  mighty  Muse,  she 
That  cleped  is  CaHopee,  1400 

And  hir  eighte  sustren  eke, 
That  in  hir  face  semen  meke; 
And  evermo,  eternally, 
They  songe  of  Fame,  as  tho  herde  I :  — 
'  Heried  he  thou  and  thy  name,  1405 

Goddesse  of  renoun  and  of  fame  ! ' 

Tho  was  I  war,  lo,  atte  laste, 
As  I  myn  eyen  gan  up  caste, 
That  this  ilke  noble  quene 
On  hir  shuldres  gan  sustene  1410 

Bothe  tharmes  and  the  name 
Of  tho  that  hadde  large  fame; 
Alexaniler,  and  Hercules 
That  with  a  sherte  his  lyf  lees ! 
Thus  fond  I  sitting  this  goddesse,      141 5 
In  nobley,  honour,  and  richesse; 
Of  which  I  stinte  a  whyle  now, 
Other  thing  to  tellen  yow. 

Tho  saugh  I  stonde  on  either  syde, 
Streight  doun  to  the  dores  wide,        1420 
Fro  the  dees,  many  a  pileer 
Of  metal,  that  shoon  not  ful  cleer; 
But  though  they  nere  of  no  richesse, 
Yet  they  were  maad  for  greet  noblesse. 
And  in  hem  greet  [and  hy]  sentence; 
And  folk  of  digne  reverence,  1426 

Of  whiche  I  wol  yow  telle  fonde, 
Upon  the  jiiler  saugh  I  stonde. 

Aldertirst,  lo,  ther  I  sigh. 
Upon  a  piler  stonde  on  high,  1430 

That  was  of  lede  and  yren  fyn, 
Him  of  secte  Saturnyn, 
"^'e  Ebrayk  losephus,  the  olde, 
at  of  I  ewes  gestes  tolde; 

id  bar  upon  his  sliuldres  bye  1435 

le  fame  up  of  the  lewerye. 

id  ijy  him  stoden  other  sevene, 

'yse  and  worthy  for  to  nevene, . 

o  hel|)en  him  bere  up  the  charge, 
lit  was  so  hevy  and  so  large.  144^ 

,nd  for  they  writen  of  hatailes, 
As  wel  as  other  olde  mervailes, 
Thcrfor  was,  lo,  this  pileer, 
Of  which  that  I  yow  telle  heer, 

^  Idle  and  yren  bothe,  y-wis.  1445 


For  yren  Martes  metal  is, 

Which  that  god  is  of  bataile; 

And  the  leed,  withouten  faile. 

Is,  lo,  the  metal  of  Saturne, 

That  hath  ful  large  wheel  to  turne.    1450 

Tho  stoden  forth,  on  every  rowe, 

Of  hem  which  that  I  coude  knowe, 

Thogh  I  hem  noght  by  ordre  telle. 

To  make  yow  to  long  to  dvvelle. 

These,  of  whiche  I  ginne  rede,       1455 
Ther  saugh  I  stonden,  out  of  drede  : 
Upon  an  yren  piler  strong. 
That  peynted  was,  al  endclong. 
With  tygres  blode  in  every  place, 
The  Tholosan  that  highte  Stace,        1460 
That  bar  of  Thebes  up  the  fame 
Upon  his  shuldres,  and  the  name 
Also  of  cruel  Achilles. 
And  by  him  stood,  withouten  lees, 
Yv\  wonder  hye  on  a  pileer  '4^5 

Of  yren,  he,  the  gret  Omeer; 
And  with  him  Dares  and  Tytus 
Before,  and  eek  he,  Lollius, 
And  Guido  eek  de  Columpnis, 
And  English  Gaufride  eek,  y-wis;      I470 
And  ech  of  these,  as  have  I  loye, 
Was  besy  for  to  bere  up  Troye. 
So  hevy  ther-of  was  the  fame. 
That  for  to  bere  hit  was  no  game. 
But  yit  I  gan  ful  wel  espye,  ^475 

Betvvix  hem  was  a  lite!  envye. 
Oon  seyde,  Omere  made  lyes, 
Feyninge  In  his  poetryes, 
And  was  to  Grekes  favorable; 
Therfor  held  he  hit  but  fable.  1480 

Tho  saugh  I  stonde  on  a  pileer. 
That  was  of  tinned  yren  cleer. 
That  Latin  poete,  [dan]  Virgyle, 
That  bore  hath  up  a  longe  whyle 
The  fame  of  Pius  tineas.  1485 

And  next  him  on  a  piler  was, 
Of  coper,  Venus  clerk,  Ovyde, 
That  hath  y-sowen  wonder  wydc 
The  grete  god  of  Loves  name. 
And  ther  he  bar  up  wel  his  fame,      1490 
Upon  this  piler,  also  hye 
As  I  might  see  hit  with  myn  ye : 
For-why  this  halle,  of  whiche  I  rede 
Was  woxe  on  highte,  lengthe  and  brede, 
Wel  more,  by  a  thousand  del,  1495 

Than  hit  was  erst,  that  saugh  I  wel. 

Tho  saugh  I,  on  a  ]iiler  by. 
Of  yren  wroght  ful  sternely, 


384 


THE   nous   OF   FAME.     BOOK   III. 


[1499- I 604. 


The  grete  poete,  daun  Lucan, 
And  on  his  shuldres  bar  up  than,       1500 
As  highe  as  that  1  mighte  see, 
The  fame  of  luHus  and  Pompee. 
And  by  him  stoden  alle  these  clerkes, 
That  writen  of  Romes  mighty  werkes. 
That,  if  I  vvolde  hir  names  telle,         1505 
Al  to  longe  moste  I  dwelle. 

And  next  him  on  a  piler  stood 
Of  soulfre,  lyk  as  he  were  wood, 
Dan  Claudian,  the  soth  to  telle. 
That  bar  up  al  the  fame  of  helle,       1510 
Of  Pluto,  and  of  Proserpyne, 
That  quene  is  of  the  derke  pyne. 

What  shulde  I  more  telle  of  this? 
The  halle  was  al  ful,  y-wis, 
Of  hem  that  writen  olde  gestes,         1515 
As  ben  on  trees  rokes  nestes; 
But  hit  a  ful  confus  matere 
Were  al  the  gestes  for  to  here, 
That  they  of  write,  and  how  they  highte. 
But  whyl  that  I  beheld  this  sighte,    1520 
I  herde  a  noise  aprochen  blyve, 
That  ferde  as  been  don  in  an  hyve, 
Agen  her  tyme  of  out-fleyinge; 
Right  swiche  a  maner  murmuringe, 
For  al  the  world,  hit  semed  me.         1525 

Tho  gan  I  loke  aboute  and  see, 
That  ther  com  entring  in  the  halle 
A  right  gret  company  with-alle, 
And  that  of  sondry  regiouns. 
Of  alleskinnes  condiciouns,  1530 

That  dwelle  in  erthe  under  the  mone, 
Pore  and  ryche.     And  also  sone 
As  they  were  come  into  the  halle. 
They  gonne  doun  on  knees  falle 
liefore  this  ilke  noble  quene,  1 535 

And  seyde,  '  Graunte  us,  lady  shene, 
Ech  of  us,  of  thy  grace,  a  bone  !  ' 
And  somme  of  hem  she  graunted  sone, 
And  somme  she  werned  wel  and  faire; 
And  somme  she  graunted  the  contraire 
Of  hir  axing  utterly.  1 541 

But  thus  I  seye  yow  trewely. 
What  hir  cause  was,  I  niste. 
For  this  folk,  ful  wel  I  wiste. 
They  hadde  good  fame  ech  deserved, 
Althogh  they  were  diversly  served;   1546 
Right  as  hir  suster,  dame  Fortune, 
Is  wont  to  serven  in  comune. 

Now  herkne  how  she  gan  to  paye 
That  gonne  hir  of  hir  grace  "praye;    1550 
And  yit,  lo,  al  this  companye 


Seyden  sooth,  and  noght  a  lye. 

'  Madame,'  seyden  they,  '  we  be 
Folk  that  heer  besechen  thee,  J 554 

That  thou  graunte  us  now  good  fame, 
And  lete  our  werkes  han  that  name; 
In  ful  recompensacioun 
Of  good  werk,  give  us  good  renoun.' 

'  1  werne  yow  hit,'   quod  she  anoon, 
'  Ye  gete  of  me  good  fame  noon,        1560 
By  god  !  and  therfor  go  your  wey.' 

'  Alas,'  quod  they,  '  and  welavvay  ! 
Telle  us,  what  may  your  cause  be?' 

'  For  me  list  hit  noght,'  quod  she; 
*  No  wight  shal  speke  of  yow,  y-wis,  1565 
Good  ne  harm,  ne  that  ne  this.' 
And  with  that  word  she  gan  to  calle 
Hir  messanger,  that  was  in  halle, 
And  bad  that  he  shulde  faste  goon. 
Up  peyne  to  be  blind  anoon,  '570 

For  Eolus,  the  god  of  winde;  — 
'  In  Trace  ther  ye  shul  him  finde, 
And  bid  him  bringe  his  clarioun, 
That  is  ful  dyvers  of  his  soun. 
And  hit  is  cleped  Clere  Laude,  1575 

With  which  he  wont  is  to  heraude 
Hem  that  me  list  y-preised  be  : 
And  also  bid  him  how  tliat  he 
Bringe  his  other  clarioun, 
That  highte  Sclaundre  in  every  toun, 
With  which  he  wont  is  to  diffame      1581 
Hem  that  me  list,  and  do  hem  shame.' 

This  messanger  gan  faste  goon. 
And  found  wher,  in  a  cave  of  stoon. 
In  a  contree  that  highte  Trace,  1585 

This  Eolus,  with  harde  grace, 
Held  the  windes  in  distresse, 
And  gan  hem  under  him  to  presse, 
That  they  gonne  as  beres  rore. 
He  bond  and  pressed  hem  so  sore.    1 590 

This  messanger  gan  faste  crye, 
'  Rys  up,'  quod  he,  '  and  faste  hye. 
Til  that  thou  at  my  lady  be; 
And  tak  thy  clarions  eek  with  thee. 
And  speed  thee  forth.'     And  he  anon 
Took  to  a  man,  that  hight  Triton,      1596 
His  clariouns  to  here  tho, 
And  leeta  certeyn  wind  to  go. 
That  blew  so  hidously  and  hye. 
That  hit  ne  lefte  not  a  skye  1600 

In  al  the  welken  longe  and  brood. 

This  Eolus  no-wher  abood 
Til  he  was  come  at  Fames  feet, 
And  eek  the  man  that  Triton  heet; 


1605-1710.] 


TIIK   nous   OF    1'AMF:.     book   III. 


385 


And  ther  he  stood,  as  still  as  stoon.  1605 

And  her-withal  ther  com  anuon 

Another  huge  companye 

Of  gode  folk,  and  gunne  crye, 

'  Lady,  graunte  us  now  good  fame, 

And  lat  our  vverkes  han  that  name    1 610 

Now,  in  honour  of  gentilesse, 

And  also  god  your  soule  bksse  ! 

For  we  han  wel  deserved  hit, 

Therfur  is  right  that  we  ben  (juit.' 

'  As  thryve  I,'  quod  she,  'ye  shal  faile, 
Good  werkes  shal  yow  noght  availe  161 6 
To  have  of  me  good  fame  as  now. 
But  wite  ye  what?     I  graunte  yow. 
That  ye  shal  have  a  shrewed  fame 
And  wikked  loos,  and  worse  name,   1 620 
Though  ye  good  loos  have  wel  deserved. 
T^ow  go  your  wey,  for  ye  be  served; 
And  thou,  dan  Eolus,  let  see  ! 
Tak  forth  thy  trumpe  anon,'  quod  she, 
♦  That  is  y-cleped  Sclaunder  light,     1625 
And  blow  hir  loos,  that  every  wight 
Speke  of  hem  harm  and  shrewednesse, 
In  stede  of  good  and  worthinesse. 
For  thou  shall  trumpe  al  the  contraire 
Of  that  they  han  don  wel  or  faire.'     1630 

'  Alas,'  thoughte  I,  '  what  aventures 
Han  these  sory  creatures  ! 
For  they,  amonges  al  the  pres, 
Shul  thus  be  shamed  gilteles  ! 
But  what!   hit  moste  nedes  be.'  1635 

What  did  this  Eolus,  but  he 
Tok  out  his  blakke  trumpe  of  bras. 
That  fouler  than  the  devil  was, 
xVnd  gan  this  trumpe  for  to  bk)we. 
As  al  the  world  shulde  overthrowe;  1640 
That  through-out  every  regioun 
Wente  this  foule  trumpes  soun. 
As  swift  as  pelet  out  of  gonne. 
Whan  fyr  is  in  the  poudre  ronne. 
And  swiche  a  smoke  gan  out-wende 
Out  of  his  foule  trumpes  ende,  1646 

Blak,  bio,  grenish,  swartish  reed. 
As  doth  wher  that  men  melte  leed, 
Lo,  al  on  high  fro  the  tuel ! 
And  therto  00  thing  saugh  I  wel,       1 650 
That,  the  ferther  that  hit  ran. 
The  gretter  wexen  hit  Ijcgan, 
As  doth  the  river  from  a  welle. 
And  hit  stank  as  tlie  pit  of  helle. 
Alas,  thus  was  hir  shame  y-ronge,      1655 
And  giltelees,  on  every  tonge. 

Tho  com  the  thridde  companye, 


And  gunne  up  to  the  dees  to  hye, 

And  doun  on  knees  they  fdle  anon, 

And  seyde,  '  We  ben  everichon  1660 

Folk  that  han  ful  trewely 

Deserved  fame  rightfully, 

And  praye  yow,  hit  mot  l)e  knowe, 

Right  as  hit  is,  and  forth  y-l)lowe.' 

'  1  graunte,'  quod  she,  '  for  me  list     1665 

That  now  your  gode  \\erk  be  wist; 

And  yit  ye  shul  han  better  Icjos, 

Right  in  dispyt  of  alle  your  foos. 

Than  worthy  is;    and  that  anoon  : 

Lat  now,'  tjuod  she,  '  thy  trumpe  goon. 

Thou  Eolus,  that  is  so  blak;  167 1 

And  out  thyn  other  trumpe  tak 

That  highte  Laude,  and  blow  hit  so 

That  through  the  world  hir  fame  go 

Al  escly,  and  not  to  faste,  "675 

That  hit  be  knowen  atte  laste.' 

'  Ful  gladly,  lady  myn,'  he  seyde; 
And  out  his  trumpe  of  golde  he  brayde 
Anon,  and  sette  hit  to  his  mouthe,     1679 
And  blew  hit  est,  and  west,  and  southe, 
And  north,  as  loude  as  any  thunder. 
That  every  wight  hadde  of  hit  wonder, 
So  brode  hit  ran,  or  than  hit  stente. 
And,  certes,  al  the  breeth  that  wente 
Out  of  his  trumpes  mouthe  smelde     1685 
As  men  a  pot-ful  bawme  helde 
Among  a  basket  ful  of  roses; 
This  favour  dide  he  til  hir  loses. 

And  right  with  this  I  gan  aspye, 
Ther  com  the  ferthe  companye —     1690 
But  certeyn  they  were  wonder  fewe  — 
And  gonne  stonden  in  a  rewe. 
And  seyden,  '  Certes,  lady  brighte. 
We  han  don  wel  with  al  our  mighte; 
But  we  ne  kepen  have  no  fame.         1695 
Hyd  our  werkes  and  our  name. 
For  goddes  love  !   for  certes  we 
Ilan  certeyn  doon  hit  for  liountee. 
And  for  no  maner  other  thing.' 
'  I  graunte  yow  al  your  asking,'  1700 

Quod  she;    'let  your  werk  be  deed.' 

With  that  aboute  I  clew  myn  heed. 
And  saugh  anoon  the  fifte  route 
That  to  this  lady  gonne  loute. 
And  doun  on  knees  anoon  to  falle;    1 705 
And  to  hir  tho  besoughten  alle 
To  hyde  hir  gode  werkes  eek, 
And  seyde,  they  yeven  noght  a  leek 
For  fame,  ne  for  swich  renoun; 
F'or  they,  for  co^templacioun  1 710 


386 


THE    nous   OF   FAME.     BOOK   III. 


[1711-1816. 


And  goddes  love,  hadde  y-wrought; 
Ne  of  fame  wolde  they  nought. 

'What?'  quod  she,  'and  be  ye  wood? 
And  wcne  ye  for  to  do  good. 
And  for  to  have  of  that  no  fame?      1 715 
Have  ye  dispyt  to  have  my  name? 
Nay,  ye  shul  liven  everichoon ! 
Blow  thy  trumpe  and  that  anoon,' 
Quod  she,  '  thou  Eolus,  I  hote, 
And  ring  this  folkes  werk  by  note,     1720 
That  al  the  world  may  of  hit  here.' 
And  he  gan  blowe  hir  loos  so  clere 
In  his  golden  clarioun, 
That  through  the  world  wente  the  soun, 
So  kenely,  and  eek  so  softe;  1725 

But  atte  laste  hit  was  on-lofte. 

Thoo  com  the  sexte  companye, 
And  gonne  faste  on  Fame  crye. 
Right  verraily,  in  this  manere 
They  seyden  :   '  Mercy,  lady  dere  !      1 730 
To  telle  certein,  as  hit  is, 
We  han  don  neither  that  ne  this, 
But  ydel  al  our  lyf  y-he. 
But,  natheles,  yit  preye  we. 
That  we  mo  we  han  so  good  a  fame,  1735 
And  greet  renoun  and  knowen  name, 
As  thcy^liat  hnn  don  noble  gestes, 
/And  achcved  al'c  hir  k-stes^ 
As  wel  of  jiivc  as  nther  thing; 
\1  was  us  never  broche  ne  ring,         1740 

-  elles  nought,  from  wimmen  sent, 
j>ie  ones  in  hir  herte  y-ment 
To  make  us  only  frendly  chere. 
But  mighte  temen  us  on  here; 
Yit  lat  us  to  the  peple  seme  1745 

Swiche  as  the  world  may  of  us  deme, 
That  wimmen  loven  us  for  wood. 
Hit  shal  don  us  as  moche  good, 
And  to  our  herte  as  moche  availe 
To  countrepeise  ese  and  travaile,        1 750 
As  we  had  wonne  hit  with  lal)our; 
For  that  is  dere  boght  honour 
At  regard  of  our  grete  ese. 
And  yit  thou  most  us  more  plese; 
Let  us  be  h<jlden  eek,  therto,  1755 

Worthy,  wyse,  and  gode  also, 
And  riche,  and  happy  unto  love. 
For  goddes  love,  that  sit  above, 
Though  we  may  not  the  iDody  have 
Of  wimmen,  yet,  so  god  yow  save  !     1760 
Let  men  glewe  on  us  the  name; 
Suffycelh  that  we  han  the  fame.' 

'  I  graunte,'  quod  she,  '  by  my  trouthe  ! 


Now,  Eolus,  with-outen  slouthe, 

Tak  out  thy  trumpe  of  gold,  let  see,  1765 

And  blow  as  they  han  axed  me. 

That  every  man  wene  hem  at  ese. 

Though  they  gon  in  ful  badde  lese.' 

This  Eolus  gan  hit  so  blowe. 

That  through  the  world  hit  was  y-knov/e. 

Tho  com  the  seventh  route  anoon,  1771 
And  fel  on  knees  everichoon. 
And  seyde,  '  Lady,  graunte  us  sone 
The  same  thing,  the  same  bone. 
That  [ye]  this  nexte  folk  han  doon.'  1775 
'  Fy  on  yow,'  quod  she,  '  everichoon  !    n^  -y  ^  v\v>'^ 
Ye  masty  swyn,  ye  ydel  wrecches,    ^    v'''^^     .  "J» 
Ful  ofTOtcn^oAve  tecchesT^T'JT^, ,     j^  80' «^ 
What?  false  theves  !  wher  ye  woldei<,    ,  ^f     a"^ 
Be  famous  good,  and  nd-^ing  nolde     '  J^  ^-^ 
Deserve  why,  ne  never  roughte?        1781^^  ^-.'^' 
Men  rather  yow  to-hangen  oughte  !     ,    ..-,  .  j^      j 
For  ye  l^e  lyk  the  sweynteTCalT'^^  ^    I 'ilij  ^'^ 
That  wolde  have  fish;    but  wostow  what?^  ,,;.;,  .j'."* 
He  wolde  no-thing  wete  his  clowes.  I78^(V**'  '' 
Yvel  thrift  come  on  your  lowes,  -yb^'  ^''^ 

And  eek  on  myn,  if  I  hit  graunte,  f\J[  vJk'  "*■ 

Or  do  yow  favour,  yow  to  avaunte !  (  U^-' 

Thou  Eolus,  thou  king  of  Trace  ! 
Go,  blow  this  folk  a  sory  grace,'  1 790 

Quod  she,  'anoon;   and  wostow  how? 
As  I  shal  telle  thee  right  now; 
Sey :  "  These  ben  they  that  wolde  honour 
Have,  and  do  noskinnes  lal^our, 
Ne  do  no  good,  and  yit  han  laude;    1795 
And  that  men  wende  that  bele  Isaude  j^ 

Ne  coude  hem  noght  of  love  werne;  U^^^^ i 
And  yit  she  that  grint  at  a  queyn.c      ^   1^ 
Is  al  to  good  to  ese  hir  herte." '.  '       Oi^ 

This  Eolus  anon  up  sterte,  1800 

And  with  liis  blakke  clarioun 
He  gan  to  blasen  out  a  soun, 
As  loude  as  belweth  wind  in  helle. 
And  eek  therwith,  [the]  sooth  to  telle, 
This  soun  was  [al]  so  ful  of  liipes,     1805 
As  ever  mowes  were  in  apes.      ^ 
And  that  wente  al  the  world  aboute. 
That  every  wight  gan  on  hem  shoute, 
And  for  to  laughe  as  they  were  wode; 
Such  game  fonde  they  in  hir  hode.    1 810 

Tho  com  another  companye, 
That  had  y-doon  the  traiterye. 
The  harm,  the  gretcst  wikkednesse 
That  any  lierte  coutiie  gesse; 
And  preyed  hir  to  han  good  fame,     1815 
And  that  she  nolde  hem  doon  no  shame 


I8I7-I922.] 


THE  nous  OF  fame,   book  hi. 


387 


But  yeve  hem  loos  and  good  renoun, 

And  do  hit  hlowe  in  claiioun. 

'  Nay,  wis  ! '  quod  she,  '  hit  were  a  vyce; 

Al  be  ther  in  me  no  lustyce,  1820 

Me  listeth  nut  to  do  hit  now, 

Ne  this  nil  I  not  graunte  you.' 

Tho  come  ther  lepinge  in  a  route, 
And  gonne  choppen  al  aboute 
Every  man  upon  the  croune,  1825 

That  al  the  halle  gan  to  soune, 
And  seyden :   '  Lady,  lefe  and  dere, 
We  bon  swich  folk  as  ye  mowe  here. 
To  tellen  al  the  tale  aright,  "^*' 

Wc  ben  shrewes,  every  wight,  1830 

And  han  delyt  in  wikkednes, 
As  gode  folk  han  in  goodnes; 
And  loye  to  be  knowen  shrewes, 
And  fulle  of  vyce  and  wikked  thewes; 
Wherfor  we  preyen  yow,  a-rowe,       1835 
That  our  fame  swich  be  knowe 
In  allc  thing  right  as  hit  is.' 

'  I  graunte  hit  yow,'  quod  she,  '  y-wis. 
But  what  art  thou  that  seyst  this  tale. 
That  werest  on  thy  hose  a  pale,  1 840 

And  on  thy  tipet  swiche  a  belle  ! ' 
'Madame,'  Cjuod  he,  'sooth  to  telle, 
I  am  that  ilke  shrewe,  y-wis, 
That  Ijrcnde  the  temple  of  Isidis 
In  Athenes,  lo,  that  citee.'  1845 

'  And  wherfor  didest  thou  so?  '  quod  she. 
'  By  my  thrift,'  quod  he, '  madame, 
I  wolde  fayn  han  had  a  fame. 
As  other  folk  hadde  in  the  toun, 
Al-thogh  they  were  of  greet  renoun  1850 
For  hir  vertu  and  for  hir  thewes; 
Thoughte  I,  as  greet  a  fame  han  shrewes, 
Thogli  hit  be  [but]  for  shrewednesse. 
As  gode  folk  han  for  goodnesse; 
And  sith  I  may  not  have  that  oon,     1855 
That  other  nil  I  noght  for-goon. 
And  for  to  gette  of  Fames  hyre, 
The  temple  sette  I  al  a-fyre. 
Now  do  our  loos  be  blowen  swythe, 
As  wisly  be  thou  ever  l)lythe.'  i860 

'Gladly,'  quod  she;  'thou  Eolus, 
Herestow  not  what  they  preyen  us?' 
'  Madame,  yis,  ful  wel,'  quod  he, 
'  And  I  vvil  trumpen  hit,  parde  ! ' 
And  tok  his  blakke  trumpe  faste,  1865 
And  gan  to  puffen  and  to  blaste. 
Til  hit  was  at  the  worldes  ende. 

With  that  I  gan  aboule  wendc; 
For  oon  that  stood  right  at  my  bak. 


Me  thoughte,  goodly  to  me  sjiak,      1870 
And  seyde  :  '  Frentl,  what  is  thy  name? 
Artow  come  hider  to  han  fame?' 
'  Nay,  for-sothe,  frend  ! '  quod  I; 
'  I  cam  noght  hider,  graunt  mercy  ! 
For  no  swich  cause,  l^y  my  heed  !      1875 
Suffyceth  me,  as  I  were  deed. 
That  no  wight  have  my  name  in  honde. 
I  woot  my-self  best  how  T  stonde; 
For  what  I  drye  or  what  I  thinke, 
I  wol  my-selvcn  al  hit  drinke,  1880 

Certeyn,  for  the  more  part, 
As  ferforth  as  I  can  myn  art.' 
'  But  what  dost  thou  hero  than  ?  '  quod  he. 
Quod  I,  '  that  wol  I  tellen  thee. 
The  cause  why  I  stonde  here  :  —       1885 
Som  newe  tydings  for  to  lere  :  — 
I  Som  newe  thinges,  I  not  \\hat, 
iTydinges,  other  this  or  that, 
tOf  love,  or  swiche  thinges  glade. 
Tor  certeynly,  he  that  me  made  1 890 

To  comen  hider,  seyde  me, 
I  shulde  bothe  here  and  see. 
In  this  place,  wonder  thinges; 
But  these  be  no  swiche  tydinges 
As  I  mene  of.'     'No?'  quod  he.       1895 
And  1  answerde,  '  No,  pardee  ! 
For  wel  I  wiste,  ever  yit, 
Sith  that  first  I  hadde  wit. 
That  som  folk  han  desyred  fame 
Dyversly,  and  loos,  and  name;  1900 

But  certeynly,  I  niste  how 
Ne  wher  that  Fame  dwelte,  er  now; 
Ne  eek  of  hir  descripcioun, 
Ne  also  hir  condicioun, 
Ne  the  ordre  of  hir  dome,  1905 

Unto  the  tyme  I  hider  come.' 
'  [Whiche]  be,  lo,  these  tydinges. 
That  thou  now  [thus]  hitler  bringes. 
That  thou  hast  herd?'  (juod  he  to  me; 
'But  now,  no  fors;    for  wel  I  see        1 9 10 
What  thou  desyrest  for  to  here. 
Com  ft)rth,  and  stond  no  longer  here, 
And  1  wol  thee,  with-outen  ilrede. 
In  swicii  another  place  lede, 

Thpr  thdji  ^hnlt  hiM-f>  mnny  (K)n.'  1915 

Tho  gan  I  forth  with  him  to  goon 
Out  of  the  castel,  soth  to  seye. 
Tho  saugh  I  stonde  in  a  valeye, 
Under  the  castel,  faste  by. 
An  hous,  that  domin  Dedali,  1920 

That  I  ahoriiittis  cleped  is, 
Nas  maad  so  wondcrliche,  y-wis, 


u 


r^ 


-t-y*-  ■  * 


n^- 


388 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME.     BOOK    III. 


[1923-2028. 


Ne  half  so  queynteliche  y-wrought. 
And  evermo,  so  swift  as  thought, 
This  queynte  hous  ahoute  wente,       1925 
That  never-mo  hit  stille  stente. 
And  ther-out  com  so  greet  a  noise, 
That,  had  hit  stonden  upon  Oise, 
Men  mighte  hit  han  herd  esely 
To  Rome,  I  trowe  sikerly.  193° 

And  the  noyse  which  that  I  herde, 
I'or  al  the  world  right  so  hit  ferde, 
As  doth  the  routing  of  the  stoon 
That  from  thengyn  is  leten  goon. 

And  al  this  hous,  of  whiche  I  rede,  1935 
Was  made  of  twigges,  falwe,  rede. 
And  grene  eek,  and  som  weren  whyte, 
Swiche  as  men  to  these  cages  thwyte, 
Or  maken  of  these  paniers, 
Or  elles  hottes  or  dossers;  194° 

That,  for  the  swough  and  for  the  twigges, 
This  hous  was  also  ful  of  gigges, 
And  also  ful  eek  of  chirkinges. 
And  of  many  other  werkinges; 
And  eek  this  hous  hath  of  entrees     1945 
As  fele  as  leves  been  on  trees 
In  somer,  whan  they  grene  been; 
And  on  the  roof  men  may  yit  seen 
A  thousand  holes,  and  wel  mo, 
To  leten  wel  the  soun  out  go.  '950 

And  by  day,  in  every  tyde, 
Ben  al  the  dores  open  wyde. 
And  by  night,  echoon,  unshette; 
Ne  porter  ther  is  non  to  lette 
No  maner  tydings  in  to  pace;  ^955 

Ne  never  reste  is  in  that  place, 
That  hit  nis  fild  ful  of  tydinges, 
Other  loude,  or  of  vvhispringes; 
And,  over  alle  the  houses  angles. 
Is  ful  of  rouninges  and  of  langles      i960 
Of  werre,  of  pees,  of  mariages. 
Of  reste,  of  labour  of  viages. 
Of  abood,  of  deeth,  of  lyfe, 
Of  love,  of  hate,  acorde,  of  stryfe. 
Of  loos,  of  lore,  and  of  winninges,     1965 
Of  hele,  of  sekenesse,  of  l)ildinges, 
Of  faire  windes,  of  tempestes. 
Of  qualme  of  folk,  and  eek  of  bestes; 
Of  dyvers  transmutaciouns 
Of  estats,  and  eek  of  regiouns  ;  1970 

Of  trust,  of  drede,  of  lelousye. 
Of  wit,  of  winninge,  of  folye; 
Of  plentee,  and  of  greet  famyne. 
Of  chepe,  of  derth,  and  of  ruyne; 
Of  good  or  mis  governement,  19/5 


Of  fyr,  of  dyvers  accident. 

And  lo,  this  hous,  of  whiche  I  wryte, 
Siker  be  ye,  hit  nas  not  lyte  ; 
For  hit  was  sixty  myle  of  lengthe; 
Al  was  the  timber  of  no  strengthe,    19S0 
Yet  hit  is  founded  to  endure 
Whyl  that  hit  list  to  Aventure, 
That  is  the  moder  of  tydinges. 
As  the  see  of  welles  and  springes,  — 
And  hit  was  shapen  lyk  a  cage.  1985 

'  Certes,'  quod  I,  '  in  al  myn  age, 
Ne  saugh  I  swich  a  hous  as  this.' 
And  as  I  vvondred  me,  y-wis, 
Upon  this  hous,  tho  war  was  I 
How  that  myn  egle,  faste  by,  1990 

Was  perched  hye  upon  a  stoon; 
And  I  gan  streighte  to  him  goon 
And  seyde  thus  :   '  I  preye  thee 
That  thou  a  whyl  abyde  me 
For  goddes  love,  and  let  me  seen       1995 
What  wondres  in  this  place  been; 
For  yit,  paraventure,  I  may  lere 
Som  good  ther-on,  or  sumvvhat  here 
That  leef  me  were,  or  that  I  wente.' 

'  Peter  !  that  is  myn  entente,'         2OCO 
Quod  he  to  me;    '  therfor  I  dwelle; 
But  certein,  oon  thing  I  thee  telle, 
That,  but  I  Ijringe  thee  ther-inne, 
Ne  shalt  thou  never  cunne  ginne 
To  come  in-to  hit,  out  of  doute,     ^  -2005 
So  faste  hit  whirleth,  lo,  aboute. 
But  sith  that  loves,  of  his  grace. 
As  I  have  seyd,  wol  thee  solace 
Fynally  with  [swiche]  thinges, 
Uncouthe  sightes  and  tydinges,         2010 
To  passe  with  thyn  hevinesse; 
Suche  routhe  hath  he  of  thiy  distresse. 
That  thou  suffrest  debonairly  — 
And  wost  thy-selven  utterly 
Disesperat  of  alle  blis,  2015 

Sith  that  Fortune  hath  maad  a-mis 
The  [fruit]  of  al  thyn  hertes  reste 
Languisshe  and  eelv  in  point  to  breste  — 
That  he,  through  his  mighty  meryte, 
Wol  do  thee  ese,  al  l)e  hit  lyte,  2020 

And  yaf  expres  commaundement, 
To  whiche  I  am  obedient. 
To  furthre  thee  with'al  my  might. 
And  wisse  and  teche  thee  aright        2024 
Wher  thou  maist  most  tydinges  here; 
Shallow  anoon  heer  many  oon  lere.' 

With  this  worde  he,  right  anoon, 
Hente  me  up  bitwene  his  toon, 


2029-2129.] 


THE   nous   OF   FAME.     BOOK   III. 


And  at  a  windowe  in  me  broghte,     2029 

That  in  this  hous  was,  as  me  thoghte  — 

And  ther-withal,  me  thoghte  hit  stente, 

And  no-tliing  hit  aboute  wente  — 

And  me  sette  in  the  flore  adoun. 

But  which  a  congregacioun 

Of  folk,  as  I  saugh  rome  aboute         2035 

Some  within  and  some  withoute, 

Nas  never  seen,  ne  shal  ben  eft; 

That,  certcs,  in  the  world  nis  left 

So  many  formed  liy  Nature, 

Nc  deed  so  many  a  creature ;  2040 

That  wel  unethe,  in  that  place, 

Iladde  I  oon  foot-brede  of  space; 

And  every  wight  that  I  saugh  there 

Rouned  ech  in  otheres  ere 

A  newe  tyding  prevely,  2045 

Or  elles  tolde  al  openly 

Right  thus,  and  seyde  :  '  Nost  not  thou 

That  is  betid,  lo,  late  or  now?' 

'No,'     quod     [the    other],    '  tel    me 

what ; '  —  2049 

And  than  he  tolde  him  this  and  that. 
And  swoor  ther-to  that  hit  was  sooth  — 
'  Thus  hath  he   seyd  '  —  and  '  Thus   he 

dooth  '  — 
•Thus   shal    hit    be'  — 'Thus    herde    I 

seye '  — 
•That   shal   be    found'  — 'That    dar    I 

leye : '  — 
That  all  the  folk  that  is  a-ly've  2055 

Ne  han  the  cunning  to  discryve 
The  thinges  that  I  herde  there, 
What  aloude,  and  what  in  ere. 
But  al  the  wonder-most  was  this  :  — 
Whan  oon  had  herd  a  thing,  y-wis,  2060 
He  com  forth  to  another  wight, 
And  gan  him  tellcn,  anoon-right, 
The  same  that  to  him  was  told, 
Or  hit  a  furlong-way  was  old. 
But  gan  somwhat  for  to  eche  2065 

To  this  tyding  in  this  speche 
More  than  hit  ever  was. 
And  nat  so  sone  departed  nas 
That  he  fro  him,  that  he  ne  mette 
With  the  thridde;    and,  or  he  lette    2070 
Any  stounde,  he  tolde  him  als; 
Were  the  tyding  sooth  or  fals, 
Yit  wolde  he  telle  hit  nathelees, 
And  evermo  with  more  encrees 
Than    hit    was    erst.      Tlius    north    and 

southe  2075 

Went  every  [word]  fro  mouth  to  mouthe, 


And  that  encresing  ever-mo. 

As  fyr  is  wont  to  quikke  and  go 

From  a  sparke  spronge  amis, 

Til  al  a  citee  brent  up  is.  2080 

And,  whan  that  was  ful  y-spronge. 
And  woxen  more  on  every  tonge 
Than  ever  hit  was,  [hit]  wente  anoon 
Up  to  a  windowe,  out  to  goon; 
Or,  but  hit  mighte  out  ther  pace,       2085 
Hit  gan  out  crepe  at  soni  crevace. 
And  flcigh  forth  faste  for  the  nones. 

And  somctyme  saugh  I  tho,  at  ones, 
A  lesing  and  a  sad  soth-sawe,  -v.-  r.  ^ . '-,-   V..^'  ■ 
That  gonne  of  aventure  drawe  2090 

Out  at  a  windowe  for  to  pace; 
And,  when  they  metten  in  that  place, 
They  were  a-chekked  bothe  two,     "\ 
And  neither  of  hem  moste  out  go;     j 
For  other  so  they  gonne  croude,        2095 
Til  eche  of  hem  gan  cryen  loude, 
'  Lat  me  go  first ! '     '  Nay,  but  lat  me  ! 
And  here  I  wol  ensuren  thee. 
With  the  nones  that  thou  wolt  do  so, 
That  I  shal  never  fro  thee  go,  2 1 00 

But  be  thyn  owne  sworen  lirother  ! 
We  wil  medle  us  ech  with  other. 
That  no  man,  be  he  never  so  wrothe, 
Shal  han  that  oon  [of]  two,  but  bothe 
At  ones,  al  beside  his  leve,  2105 

Come  we  a-morwe  or  on  eve. 
Be  we  cryed  or  stille  y-rouned.' 
Thus  saugh  I  fals  and  sooth  compouned 
Togeder  flee  for  00  tydinge. 

Thus  out  at  holes  gonne  wringe     2110 
Every  tyding  streight  to  Fame; 
And  she  gan  yeven  eche  his  name, 
After  hir  disposicioun. 
And  yaf  hem  eek  duracioun, 
Some  to  wexe  and  wane  sone,  21 15 

As  dooth  the  faire  whyte  mone, 
And  leet  hem  gon.     Ther  mighte  I  seen 
Wenged  wondrcs  faste  fleen, 
Twenty  thousand  in  a  route, 
As  Eolus  hem  blew  aboute.  21 20 

And,  lord  !   this  hous,  in  alle  tymes, 
Was  ful  of  shipmen  and  pilgrymes. 
With  scrippes  bret-ful  of  lesinges, 
Entremedled  with  tydinges. 
And  eek  alone  by  hem-selve.  2125 

O,  many  a  thousand  tymes  twelve 
Saugh  I  eek  of  these  partloneres, 
Currouis,  and  eek  messangeres, 
With  boistes  crammed  ful  of  lyes 


■V"'> 


390 


THE   nous   OF   FAME.     BOOK    HI. 


[2130-2158. 


As  ever  vessel  was  with  lyes. 
And  as  I  alther-fastest  wente 
Aboute,  and  dide  al  myn  entente 
Me  for  to  pleye  and  for  to  lere, 
And  eek  a  tyding  for  to  here, 
That  I  had  herd  of  sum  contree 
That  shal  not  now  be  told  for  me;- 
For  hit  no  nede  is,  redely; 
Folk  can  singe  hit  bet  than  I ; 
For  al  mot  out,  other  late  or  rathe, 
AUe  the  sheves  in  the  lathe;  — 
I  herde  a  gret  noise  withalle 
In  a  C(jrner  of  the  halle, 
Ther  men  of  love  tydings  tolde, 
And  I  gan  thiderward  beholde; 


2130       For  I  saugh  renninge  every  wight,    2145 
As  faste  as  that  they  hadden  might; 
And    everich    cryed,    '  What    thing    is 

that?' 
And  som  seyde,  '  I  not  never  what.' 

2135       And  whan  they  were  alle  on  an  hepe, 

Tho  behinde  gonne  up  lepe,  2 1 50 

And  clamben  up  on  othere  faste, 
And  up  the  nose  on  hye  caste, 
And  troden  faste  on  othere  heles 

2140       And  stampe,  as  men  don  after  eles. 

Atte  laste  I  saugh  a  man,  2155 

Which  that  I  [nevene]  naught  ne  can; 
But  he  senied  for  to  be 
A  man  of  greet  auctoritee  ....      2158 

( Unjinhhed.~)  '"  \ 


THE    LEGEND   OF   GOOD   WOMEN. 


The  Prologue  to  this  Poem  exists  in  two  different  versions,  which  differ  widely  from 
each  other  in  many  passages.    The  arrangement  of  the  material  is  also  different. 

For  the  sake  of  clearness,  the  earlier  version  is  here  called  '  Text  A,"  and  the  later  ver- 
sion '  Text  B.' 

'Text  A'  exists  in  one  MS.  only,  but  this  MS.  is  of  early  date  and  much  importance. 
It  is  the  MS.  marked  Gg.  4.  27  in  the  Cambridge  University  Library.  This  text  is  printed 
on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  following  pages. 

'  Text  B '  occupies  the  right-hand  side  of  the  following  pages.  It  follows  the  Fairfax 
MS.  mainly. 


The  prologe  of  .ix.  goode  Wimmen. 

A  THOUSAND  sythes  have  I  herd  men 

telle, 
That  thcr  is  loye  in  heven,  and  peyne 

in  helle; 
And  I  acorde  wel  that  hit  be  so; 
But  natheles,  this  wot  1  wel  also, 
That  ther  nis  noon  that  dwelleth  in  this 

contree,  5 

That  either  hath  in  helle  or  heven  y-be, 
Ne  may  of  hit  non  other  vveyes  witen, 
But  as  he  hath  herd  seyd,  or  founde  hit 

writen; 
For  by  assay  ther  may  no  man  hit  preve. 
But  goddes  forbode,  but  men  shukle  leve 
Wel  more  thing  then  men  han  seen  with 

ye!  II 

Men  shal  nat  wenen  ever)--thing  a  lye 
For  that  he  seigh  it  nat  of  yore  ago. 
Gud  wot,  a  thing  is  never  the  lesse  so 

Thogh    every    wight    ne    may    hit    nat 

y-see.  1 5 

Bernard    the    monk    ne   saugh    nat    al, 

parde ! 

Than  mote  we  to  bokes  that  we  finde. 

Through  which    that  olde  thinges  been 

in  minde, 
And  to  the  doctrine  of  these  olde  wyse, 
Yeven  credence,  in  every  skilful  wyse,    20 
And  trowen  on  these  olde  apruved  stories 
Of  holinesse,  of  regnes,  of  victories, 


The  prologe  of  .ix.  goode  Wimmen. 

A  thousand  tymes  have  I  herd  men 

telle, 
That  ther  is  loye  in  heven,  and   peyne 

in  helle; 
And  I  acorde  wel  that  hit  is  so; 
But  natheles,  yit  wot  I  wel  also, 
That  ther    nis    noon   dwelling    in    this 

contree,  5 

That  either  hath  in  heven  or  helle  y-be, 
Ne  may  of  hit  non  other  weyes  witen. 
But  as  he  hath  herd  seyd,  or  founde  hit 

writen ; 
For  by  assay  ther  may  no  man  hit  preve. 
But  god  forbede  but  men  shukle  leve 
Wel  more  thing  then  men  han  seen  with 

ye !  II 

Men  shal  nat  wenen  every-thing  a  lye 
But-if  him-self  hit  seeth,  or  elles  dooth; 
For,  god  wot,  thing  is  never   the  lasse 

sooth, 
Thogh    every   wight    ne    may    hit    nat 

y-see.  15 

Bernard    the    monk    ne    saugh    nat   al, 

parde ! 
Than  mote  we  to  bokes  that  we  finde. 
Through  which  that  olde  thinges  been  in 

minde. 
And  to  the  doctrine  of  these  olde  wyse, 
Yeve  credence,  in  every  skilful  wyse,    20 
That  tcllen  of  these  olde  apprevcil  stories, 
Of  holinesse,  of  regnes,  of  victories, 


391 


392 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD   WOMEN. 


Of  love,  of  hate,  of  other  sundry  thinges, 
Of  which  I  may  not  maken  rehersinges. 
And  if  that  olde  bokes  were  a-weye,      25 
Y-loren  were  of  remembraunce  the  keye. 
Wei  oghte  us  than  on  olde  bokes  leve, 
Ther-as  ther  is  non  other  assay  by  preve. 

And,  as  for  me,  though  that  my  wit  be 

lyte. 
On  bokes  for  to  rede  I  me  delyte,  30 

And  in  niyn  herte  have  hem  in  reverence; 
And  to  hem  yeve  swich  lust  and  swich 

credence, 
That  there  is  wel  unethe  game  noon 
That  from  my  bokes  make  me  to  goon, 
But  hit  be  other  up-on  the  haly-day,     35 
Or  elles  in  the  loly  tyme  of  May; 

Whan  that  I  here  the  smale  foules  singe. 
And  that  the  floures  ginne  for  to  springe, 
Farwel  my  studie,  as  lasting  that  sesoun  ! 
Now  have  I  therto  this  condicioun  40 
That,  of  alle  the  floures  in  the  mede. 
Than  love  I  most  these  floures  whyte  and 

rede, 
Swiche   as   men  callen    daysies    in  our 

toun. 
To  hem  have  I  so  greet  affeccioun,        44 
As  I  seyde  erst,  whan  comen  is  the  May, 
That  in  my  l^ed  ther  daweth  me  no  day 
That  I  nam  up,  and  walking  in  the  mede 
To  seen  these  floures    agein    the   sonne 

sprede, 
Whan  hit  up-riseth  by  the  morwe  shene, 
The    longe    day,  thus   walking    in    the 

grene.  50 

And  whan  the  sonne  ginneth  for  to  weste. 
Than  closeth  hit,  and  draweth  hit  to  reste. 
So  sore  hit  is  afered  of  the  night. 
Til  on  the  morwe,  that  hit  is  dayes  light. 
This  dayesye,  of  alle  floures  flour,  55 

Fulfild  of  verlu  and  of  alle  honour, 
And  ever  y-lyke  fair  and  fresh  of  hewe. 
As  wel  in  winter  as  in  somer  newe, 


Of  love,  of  hate,  of  other  sundry  thinges, 
Of  whiche  I  may  not  maken  rehersinges. 
And  if  that  olde  bokes  were  a-weye,     25 
Y-loren  were  of  remembraunce  the  keye. 
Wel  oghte  us  than  honouren  and  beleve 
These    bokes,   ther   we   han   non   other 
preve. 
And  as  for  me,  thogh  that  I  can  but 
lyte. 
On  bokes  for  to  rede  I  me  delyte,  30 

And  to  hem  yeve  I  feyth  and  ful  credence, 
And  in  myn   herte  have   hem  in  rever- 
ence 
So  hertely,  that  ther  is  game  noon 
That  fro  my  bokes  maketh  me  to  goon, 
But  hit  be  seldom,  on  the  holyday;       35 
Save,  certeynly,  whan  that  the  month  of 

May    . 
Is  comen,  and  that  I  here  the  foules  singe, 
And  that  the  floures  ginnen  for  to  springe, 
Farwel  my  book  and  my  devocioun ! 

Now  have  I  than  swich  a  condicioun. 
That,  of  alle  the  floures  in  the  mede,     41 
Than  love  I  most  these  floures  whyte  and 

rede, 
Swiche  as  men    callen    daysies    in   our 

toun. 
To  hem  have  I  so  greet  affeccioun,       44 
As  I  seyde  erst,  whan  comen  is  the  May, 
That  in  my  bed  ther  daweth  me  no  day 
That  I  nam  up,  and  walking  in  the  mede 
To  seen  this  flour  agein  the  sonne  sprede, 

Whan  hit  upryseth  erly  by  the  morwe; 
That  blisful  sighte  softneth  al  my  sorwe. 
So  glad  am  I  whan  that  I  have  presence 
Of  hit,  to  doon  al  maner  reverence,      52 


As  she,  that  is  of  alle  floures  flour, 
Fulfilled  of  al  vertu  and  honour. 
And  ever  y-lyke  fair,  and  fresh  of  hewe; 
And  I  love  hit,  and  ever  y-lyke  newe,     56 
And  ever  shal,  til  that  myn  herte  dye; 
Al  swere  I  nat,  of  this  I  wol  nat  lye, 
Ther  loved  no  wight  hotter  in  his  lyve.  59 

And  whan  that  hit  is  eve,  I  renne  blyve. 
As  sone  as  ever  the  sonne  ginneth  weste. 
To  seen  this  flour,  how  it  wol  go  to  reste. 
For  fere  of  night,  so  hateth  she  derknesse  ! 
Hir  chere  is  pleynly  sprad  in  the  bright- 
nesse 


PROLOGUE.     A.    23-86.     B.    23-102. 


393 


Fain  wolde  T  preisen,  if  I  coude  aright; 
But  wo  is  me,  hit  lyth  nat  in  my  might !    60 


For  wel  I  wot,  that  folk  han  her-beforn 
Of  making   ropen,   and   lad   a-wey   the 

corn; 
And    I    come   after,  glening    here    and 

there. 
And  am  ful  glad  if  I  may  finde  an  ere 
Of  any  goodly  word  that  they  han  left.    65 
And,  if  hit  happe  me  rehersen  eft 
That  they  han  in  her  fresshe  songes  sayd, 
1  hope  that  they  wil  nat  ben  evel  apayd, 
Sith  hit  is  seid  in  forthering  and  honour 
Of  hem  that  either  serven  leef  or  flour.  70 


For  trusteth  wel,  I  ne  have  nat  under- 
take 

As  of  the  leef,  ageyn  the  flour,  to  make; 

Ne  of  the  flour  to  make,  ageyn  the  leef. 

No  more  than  of  the  corn  ageyn  the 
sheef.  74 

For,  as  to  me,  is  leefer  noon  ne  lother; 

I  am  with-holde  yit  with  never  nother. 

I  not  who  serveth  leef,  ne  who  the  flour; 

That  nis  nothing  the  entent  of  my  labour. 

For  this  werk  is  al  of  another  tunne,     79 

Of  olde  story,  er  swich  stryf  was  begunne. 

But  wherfor  that  I  spak,  to  yeve  credence 

To  bokes  olde  and  doon  hem  reverence, 

Is  for  men  shulde  autoritees  beleve, 
Ther  as  ther  lyth    non  other   assay   by 

preve. 
For  myn  entent  is,  or  I  fro  yow  fare,     85 
The  naked  text  in  English  to  declare 


Of  the  Sonne,  for  ther  hit  wol  unchjse.    65 
Alias !    that  I  ne  had  English,  ryme  or 

prose, 
Suffisant  this  flour  to  preyse  aright ! 
But  helpeth,  ye  that  han  conning   and 

might. 
Ye  lovers,  that  can  make  of  sentement; 
In  this  cas  oghte  ye  be  diligent  70 

To  forthren  me  somwhat  in  my  labour, 
Whether  ye  ben  with  the  leef  or  with  the 

flour. 
For  wel  I  wot,  that  ye  han  her-biforn 
Of    making   ropen,   and   lad   awey   the 

corn; 
And   I    come   after,   glening    here    and 

there,  75 

And  am  ful  glad  if  I  may  finde  an  ere 
Of  any  goodly  word  than  ye  han  left. 
And  thogh  it  happen  me  rehercen  eft 
That  ye  han  in  your  fresshe  songes  sayd, 
For-bereth  me,  and  beth  nat  evel  apayd, 
Sin  that  ye  see  I  do  hit  in  the  honour    81 
Of  love,  and  eek  in  service  of  the  flour, 
Whom  that  I   serve    as    I    have  wit    or 

might. 
She  is  the  clernesse  and  the  verray  light, 
That  in  this  derke  worlde  me  wynt  and 

ledeth,  85 

The  herte  in-with  my  sorowful  brest  yow 

dredeth. 
And  loveth  so  sore,  that  ye  ben  verrayly 
The  maistresse  of  my  wit,  and  nothing  I. 
My  word,  my  werk,  is  knit  so  in  your 

bonde, 
That,  as  an  harpe  obeyeth  to  the  honde 
And  maketh  hit  soune  after  his  finger- 

inge,  91 

Right   so   mowe   ye   out   of  myn   herte 

bringe 
Swich  vols,  right  as  yow  list,  to  laughe  or 

pleyne. 
Be  ye  my  gyde  and  lady  sovereyne; 
As  to  myn  erthly  god,  to  yow  I  calle,    95 
Bothe  in  this  werke  and  in  my  sorwes  alle. 
But  wherfor  that  I  spak,  to  give  cred- 
ence 
To  olde   stories,  and    doon    hem  rever- 
ence. 
And  that  men  mosten  more  thing  beleve 
Then  men  may  seen  at  eye  or  elles  preve? 
That   shal    1   seyn,  whan  that   I  see  my 

tyme;  lOl 

I  may  not  al  at  ones  spcke  in  ryme. 


394 


THE   LEGEND   OF  GOOD   WOMEN. 


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, 
And  I  had  romed,  al  the  someres  day,  90 
The  grene  medew,  of  which  that  I  yow 

tolde, 
Upon  the  fresshe  daysy  to  beholde. 
And  that  the  sonne  out  of  the  south  gan 

weste, 
And  closed  was  the  flour  and  goon  to 

teste 
For  derknesse  of  the  night,  of  which  she 

dredde,  95 

Hoom   to   myn   hous   ful    swiftly   I   me 

spedde ; 
And,  in  a  litel  erber  that  I  have, 
Y-benched    newe    with    turves    fresshe 

y-grave, 
I  bad  men  shulde  me  my  couche  make; 
For  deyntee  of  the  newe  someres  sake 
I  Imd  hem  strowe  floures  on  my  bed.   loi 
Whan  I  was   layd,  and  had  myn  eyen 

hed, 
I  fel  a-slepe  with-in  an  houre  or  two. 
Me  mette  how  I  was  in  the  medew  tho, 
And  that  I  romed  in  that  same  gyse,   105 
To  seen  that  flour,  as  ye  han  herd  devyse. 
Fair  was    this   medew,  as   thoughte  me 

overal; 
With  floures  swote  embrowded  was  it  al; 


As  for  to  speke  of  gomme,  or  erbe,  or 

tree, 
Comparisoun  may  noon  y-maked  be.    1 10 
For  hit  surmounted  pleynly  alle  odoures, 
And  eek  of  riche  beaute  alle  floures. 
Forgeten  had  the  erthe  his  pore  estat 
Of  winter,   that   him   naked   made  and 

mat. 
And  with  his  swerd  of  cold  so  sore  had 

greved.  115 

Now   had    the    atempre    sonne   al    that 

releved. 
And  clothed  him  in  grene  al  newe  agayn. 
The  smale  foules,  of  the  sesori  fayn. 


My  besy  gost,  that  thrusteth  alwey  newe 
To  seen  this  flour  so  yong,  so  fresh  of 

hewe, 
Constreyned  me  with  so  gledy  desyr,   105 
That  in  my  herte  I  fele  yit  the  fyr, 
That  made  me  to  ryse  er  hit  wer  day  — 

And  this  was  now  the  firste  morwe  of 

May  — 
With  dredful  herte  and  glad  devocioun. 
For  to  ben  at  the  resureccioun  no 

Of  this  flour,  whan  that  it  shidd  unclose 
Agayn  the  sonne,  that  roos  as  rede  as 

rose, 
That  in  the  brest  was  of  the  beste  that 

day, 
That  Agenores  doghter  ladde  away. 


And   doun   on   knees   anon-right   I  me 
sette,  115 

And,  as  I  coude,  this  fresshe  flour  I  grette; 
Kneling  alwey,  til  hit  unclosed  was. 
Upon  the  smale  softe  swote  gras, 

That  was  with  floures  swote  embrouded 

al. 
Of    swich   swetnesse    and    swich   odour 

over-al,  120 

That,  for  to  speke  of  gomme,  or  herbe, 

or  tree, 
Comparisoun  may  noon  y-maked  be ; 
For  hit  surmounteth  pleynly  alle  odoures, 
And  eek  of  riche  beautee  alle  floures. 
Forgeten  had  the  erthe  his  pore  estat   125 
Of  winter,  that   him   naked   made  and 

mat. 
And    with   his    swerd    of   cold   so    sore 

greved ; 
Now  hath    the   atempre   sonne   al    that 

releved 
That  naked  was,  and  clad  hit  new  agayn. 
The  smale  foules,  of  the  seson  fayn,    130 


TROLOGUE.     A.   87-140.     B.    103-170. 


395 


That  from  the  panter  and  the  net  ben 

scapeil, 
Upon      the     fouler,     tliat     hem     made 

a-whaped  !20 

In  winter,  and  distroyed  had  hir  brood, 
In  his  despyt,  hem  thouglite  hit  did  hem 

good 
To  singe  of  him,  anil  in  hir  song  despyse 
The  foule  cherl  that,  .""'^r  his  covetyse, 
Had  hem  betrayed  witi      •*  sophistrye. 
This   was    hir    song —    .iie     fouler    we 

defye ! '  126 

Somme  songen  [layes]  on  the  braunches 

clere 
Of  love  and  [May],  that  loye  hit  was  to 

here, 
In  worship  and  in  preysing  of  hir  make, 

And  of  the  newe  blisful  someres  sake,  130 


That  songen,  '  blissed  be  seynt  Valentyn ! 

[For]  at  his  day  I  chees  yow  to  be  myn, 
With-oute  repenting,  myn  herte  swete  ! ' 
And  therwith-al  hir  bekes  gonnen  mete. 
[They  dide  honour  and]   humble  obei- 

saunces,  135 

And  after  diden  other  observaunces 
Right  [plesing]  un-to  love  and  to  nature; 
So  ech  of  hem  [doth  wel]  to  creature. 
This  song  to  herkne  I  dide  al  myn  entente, 
For-why    I    mette    I    wiste    what    they 

mente.  140 


That   from   the  panter  and  the  net  ben 

scaped, 
Upon      the     fouler,     that     hem     made 

a-whaped 
In  winter,  and  distroyed  had  hir  brood. 
In  his  despyt,  hem  thoughte  liil  (Hd  hem 

good  1 34 

To  singe  of  him,  and  in  hir  song  despyse 
The  foule  cherl,  that,  for  his  covetyse. 
Had  hem  betrayed  with  his  sophistrye. 
This   was    hir    song  —  'the     fouler    we 

defye. 
And  al  his  craft ! '     And  somme  songen 

clere  1 39 

Layes  of  love,  that  loye  hit  was  to  here. 

In    worshipinge     and    preisinge   of    hir 

make. 
And,  for  the  newe  blisful  somers  sake. 
Upon  the  braunches  ful  of  blosmes  softc, 
In  hir  delyt,  they  turned  hem  ful  ofte. 
And    songen,    '  blessed    be   seynt   Val- 
entyn !  145 
For  on  his  day  I  chees  yow  to  be  myn, 
Withouten  repenting,  myn  herte  swete  !  ' 
And  therwith-al  hir  lickes  gonnen  mete, 
Yelding  honour  and  humble  obeisaunces 
To    love,  and  diden   hir    other    observ- 
aunces                                               150 
That  longeth  unto  love  and  to  nature; 
Construeth  that  as  yow  list,  I  do  no  cure. 
And    tho    that  hadde  doon    unkinde- 
nesse  — 
As  dooth  the  tydif,  for  new-fangelnesse  — 
Besoghte  mercy  of  hir  trespassinge,     155 
And  huml)lely  songen  hir  repentinge. 
And  sworen  on  the  blosmes  to  be  trewe. 
So  that  hir  makes  wolde  ujxjn  hem  rewe, 
And  at  the  laste  maden  hir  acord. 
Al   founde    they    Daungcr     for   a   tyme 
a  lord,                                                160 
Yet   Pitee,    through    his    stronge   gcntil 

might, 
Forgaf,  and  made  Mercy  passen  Right, 
Through  innocence  and  ruled  curtesye. 
But  I  ne  clepe  nat  innocence  folye, 
Ne  fals  pitee,  for  '  vertu  is  the  mene,'  165 
As  Etik  saith,  in  swich  maner  I  mene. 
And  thus  thise  foules,  voide  of  al  malyce, 
Acordeden  to  love,  and  laften  vyce 
Of  hate,  and  songen  alle  of  oon  acord, 
'  Welcome,   somer,    our    govcrnour   and 
lord ! '  1 70 


396 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


And  Zephirus  and  Flora  gentilly 
Yaf  to  the  floures,  softe  and  tenderly, 
Hir  swote  breth,  and  made  hem  for  to 

sprede, 
As    god    and    goddesse    of    the    floury 

mede; 
In  which  me  thoghte  I  mighte,  day  by 

day,  175 

Dwellen  alwey,  the  loly  month  of  May, 
Withouten    sleep,     withouten    mete    or 

drinke. 
A-doun  ful  softely  I  gan  to  sinke ; 
And,  leninge  on   myn  elbowe   and   my 

syde,  179 

The  longe  day  I  shoop  me  for  to  abyde 
For  nothing  elles,  and  I  shal  nat  lye, 
But  for  to  loke  upon  the  dayesye. 
That  wel  by  reson  men  hit  calle  may 
The  '  dayesye  '  or  elles  the  '  ye  of  day,' 
The  emperice  and  flour  of  floures  alle. 
I  pray  to  god  that  faire  mot  she  falle,  186 
And  alle  that  loven  floures,  for  hir  sake  ! 
But  natheles,  ne  vvene  nat  that  I  make 
In  preysing  of  the  flour  agayn  the  leef, 
No    more    than    of   the   corn  agayn  the 

sheef:  190 

For,  as  to  me,  nis  lever  noon  ne  lother; 
I    nam     with-holden     yit     with     never 

nother 
Ne  I  not  who  serveth  leef,  ne  who  the 

flour; 
Wel  brouken  they  hir  service  or  labour; 
For  this  thing  is  al  of  another  tonne,  195 
Of  olde  story,  er  swich  thing  was   be- 

gonne. 
Whan  that  the  sonne  out  of  the  south 

gan  weste, 
And  that  this  flour  gan  close  and  goon  to 

reste 
For  derknesse  of  the  night,  the  which 

she  dredde, 
Hoom   to   myn   hous    ful    swiftly   I  me 

spedde  200 

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    fresshe 

y-grave,  204 

I  bad  men  sholde  me  my  couche  make; 
P'or  deyntee  of  the  newe  someres  sake, 
I  bad  hem  stravven  floures  on  my  bed. 
When  I  was  leyd,  and   had   myn  eyen 

hed, 


PROLOGUE.     A.    141-177.     B.    171-245. 


397 


Til  at  the  laste  a  larke  song  above : 

'  I    see,'  quod    she,  '  tlie    mighty  god  of 

love  ! 
Lo !    yond  he  cometh,  I  see  his  vvinges 

sprede !  ' 
Tho  gan  I  loken  endelong  the  mede, 
And  saw  him  come,  antl  in  his  hond  a 

t|uene,  145 

Clothed  in  ryal  abite  al  of  grene. 
A  fret  of  gold  she  hadde  next  hir  heer, 

And  iip-on  that  a  whyt  coroun  she  beer 
Witii  many  lloures,  and  I  shal  nat  lye; 
For  al  tiie  world,  right  as  the  dayesye    150 
I-coroned  is  with  whyte  leves  lyte, 
Swich    were  the   floures    of  hir   coroun 

whyte. 
For  of  o  perle  fyn  and  oriental 
Hir  whyte  coroun  was  y-maked  al; 
For  which  the  whyte  coroun,  above  the 
grene,  155 

Made  hir  lyk  a  daysie  for  to  sene, 
Considered  eek  the  fret  of  gold  above. 

Y-clothcd  was  this  mighty  god  of  love 
Of  silk,  y-brouded  ful  of  grene  greves; 
A  garlond  on  his  heed  of  rose-leves     160 
Steke<l  al  with  lilie  floures  newe; 
But  of  his  face  I  can  nat  seyn  the  hewe. 


For  sekirly  his  face  shoon  so  brighte. 
That  with  the  gleem   a-stoned  was   the 
sighte;  164 

A  furlong-wey  I  mighte  him  nat  beholde. 
But  at  the  laste  in  hande  I  saw  him  holde 

Two  fyry  dartes,  as  the  gledes  rede; 
And  aungellich  his  vvenges  gan  he  sprede. 
And  al  be  that  men  seyn  that  blind  is  he, 
Al-gate    me    thoughte    he    mighte    wel 
y-sce;  170 

For  sternely  on  me  he  gan  biholde, 
So  that  his  loking  doth  myn  herte  colde. 

And  by  the  hande    he    held    the    noble 

queue, 
Corouned  with  whyte,  and  clothed  al  in 

grene,  174 

So  womanly,  so  benigne,  and  so  meke, 
That  in  this  world,  thogh  that  men  wolde 

seke. 
Half  hir  beautee  shulde  men  nat  finde 


I  fel  on  slope  in-with  an  houre  or  two; 
Me  mette  how  I  lay  in  the  niedew  tiro,  210 

To  seen  this   flour  that  I  so    love  and 

drede. 
And  from  a-fer  com  walking  in  the  mede 
The  gt)(l  of   love,  and    in    his    hande    a 

quene ; 
And  she  was  clad  in  real  hal)it  grene. 
A    fret    of    gold    she    hadde    next    hir 

heer,  215 

And  upon  that  a  whyt  coroun  she  beer 
With  fiorouns  smale,  and  I  shal  nat  lye; 
For  al  the  world,  ryght  as  a  dayesye 
Y-corouned  is  with  whyte  leves  lyte. 
So    were    the    florouns    of   hir    coroun 

whyte;  220 

For  of  o  perle  fyne,  oriental, 
Hir  whyte  coroun  was  y-maked  al; 
For  which  the  whyte  coroun,  above  the 

grene, 
Made  hir  lyk  a  daysie  for  to  sene. 
Considered  eek  hir  fret  of  gold  above.   225 
Y-clothed  was  this  mighty  god  of  love 
In  silke,  enbrouded  ful  of  grene  greves, 
In-with  a  fret  of  rede  rose-leves. 
The    fresshest    sin    the    world    was    first 

bigonne. 
His    gilte    heer   was    corouned    with    a 

Sonne,  230 

In-stede  of  gold,  for  hevinesse  and  wighte ; 
Therwith  me  thoughte  his  face  shoon  so 

brighte 

That  wel  unnethes  mighte  I  him  beholde; 
And  in  his  hande  me  thoughte  I  saugh 

him  holde 
Two  fyry  dartes,  as  the  gledes  rede;     235 
And  aungellyke  his  winges  saugh  I  sprede. 
And  al  be  that  men  seyn  that  blind  is  he, 
Al-gate  me  thoughte  that  he  mighte  see; 

For  sternely  on  me  he  gan  biholde, 

So    that    his    loking    doth    myn    herte 

colde.  240 

And  by  the  hande  he   held    this   noble 

quene, 
Corouned  with  whyte,  and  clothed  al  in 

grene. 
So  womanly,  so  benigne,  and  so  meke, 
That  in  this  world,  thogh  that  men  wolde 

seke. 
Half  hir  beautee  shulde  men  nat  finde  245 


398 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


In  creature  that  formed  is  by  kinrle, 
Hir  name  was  Alceste  the  debonayre; 
I  prey  to  god  that  ever  falle  she  fayre  !    i  So 
For  ne  hadde  confort  been  of  hir  presence, 
I  had  be  deed,  vvithouten  any  defence, 
For  drede  of  Loves  wordes  anil  his  chere. 
As,  whan  tyme  is,  her-after  ye  shal  here. 
Byhind  this  god  of  love,  up-on  this  grene, 
I  saw  cominge  of  ladyes  nyntene  iS6 

In  ryal  alnte,  a  ful  esy  pas, 
And  after  hem  com  of  wemen  swich  a 

tras 
That,  sin  that  god  Adam  made  of  erthe. 
The    thredde    part    of    wemen,    ne    the 

ferthe,  190 

Ne  wende  I  nat  by  possibilitee 
Hadden  ever  in  this  world  y-be; 
And    trewe    of   love    thise    wemen  were 

echoon. 
Now  whether  was  that  a  wonder  thing 

or  noon, 
That,  right   anoon   as   that   they  gonne 

espye       _  195 

This  flour,  which  that  I  clepe  the  dayesye, 
Ful  sodeinly  they  stinten  alle  at-ones. 
And  kneled  adoun,  as  it  were    for   the 

nones. 
And  after  that  they  wenten  in  compas, 
Daunsinge    aboute    this    flour    an    esy 

pas,  200 

And  songen,  as  it  were  in  carole-wyse, 
This    balade,    which    that    I    shal    yow 

devyse. 

Balade. 

Hyd,  Absolon,  thy  gilte  tresses  clere; 
Ester,  ley  thou  thy  meknesse  al  a-doun; 
Hyd,     lonathas,    al    thy     frendly    man- 

ere ;  205 

Penalopee,  and  Marcia  Catoun, 
Mak  of  your  wyfliod  no  comparisoun; 
Hyde     ye     your     beautes,     Isoude    and 

Eleyne, 
Alceste  is    here,  that  al    that    may  des- 

teyne. 

Thy  faire  body,  lat  hit  nat  appere,       210 
Lavyne;     and   thou,    Lucresse  of   Rome 

toun, 
And     Polixene,    that     boghte     love    so 

dere, 
Eek  Cleopatre,  with  al  thy  passiuun, 


In  creature  that  formed  is  by  kinde. 


And   therfor   may   I   seyn,    as   thinketh 
me,  247 

This  song,  in  preysing  of  this  lady  fre. 

Balade. 

Hyd,  Absolon,  thy  gilte  tresses  clere; 
Ester,  ley  thou  thy  meknesse  al  a-doun; 
Hyd,  lonathas,  al  thy  frendly  manere; 

Penalopee,  and  Marcia  Catoun,  252 

Mak  of  your  wyfhod  no  comparisoun; 
Hyde  ye  your  beautes,  Isoude  and  Eleyne, 

My  lady  cometh,  that   al   this  may  dis- 
teyne.  255 

Thy  faire  body,  lat  hit  nat  appere, 
Lavyne;    and    thou,  Lucresse   of  Rome 

toun. 
And    Polixene,    that    boghten    love    so 

dere. 
And  Cleopatre,  with  al  thy  passioun. 


rROLOGUE.     A.    17S-224.     B.    246-295. 


399 


Hyde  ye  your  trouthe  in  love  and  your 

renoun; 
And  tliuu,  Tisbe,  that  hast  for  love  swich 

peyne:  215 

Alceste  is  here,  that  al   that   may    des- 

teyne, 

Herro,  Dido,  Laudomia,  alio  in-fere, 
Eek  Phyllis,  hanging  for  thy  Demophoun, 
And  Cauacc,  cspyed  by  thy  chcre, 
Ysiphile,  betrayed  with  Jasoun,  220 

Mak  of  your  trouthe  in  love  no  host  ne 

soun; 
Nor  Ypermistre  or  Adriane,  ne  pleyne; 
Alceste  is   here,  that  al   that    may  dcs- 

teyne. 

Whan  that  this  balade  al  y-songen  was. 


ITyde  ye  your  trouthe  of  love  and  your 
renoun ;  260 

And  thou,  Tisbe,  that  hast  of  love  swich 
peyne; 

My  lady  cometh,  that  al  this  may  dis- 
teyne. 

Ilerro,  Dido,  Laudomia,  alle  y-fere, 
And  Phyllis,  hanging  for  thy  Demophoun, 
And  Canace,  espyed  l)y  thy  cherc,       265 
Ysiphile,  betraysed  with  Jasoun, 
Maketh  of  your  trouthe  ncyther  boost  ne 

soun ; 
Nor  Ypermistre  or  Adriane,  ye  tweyne; 
My  latly  cometh,  that  al   this    may  dis- 

teync. 

This    balade    may    ful    wcl    y-songen 

be,  270 

As  I  have  seyd  erst,  by  my  lady  free; 
For  certeynly,  alle  these  mow  nat  suflfyse 
To  apperen  with  my  lady  in  no  wyse. 
For  as  the  sonne  wol  the  fyr  disteyne, 
So  passeth  al  my  lady  sovereyne,         275 
That  is  so  good,  so  fair,  so  delionaire; 
I  prey  to  god  that  ever  falle  hir  faire ! 
For,  nadde  comfort  been  of  hir  presence, 
I  had  ben  deed,  withouten  any  defence. 
For   drede   of    Loves   wordes    and     his 

chere;  280 

As,  when  tyme  is,  her-after  ye  shal  here. 

Behind   this   god   of   love,   upon    the 

grcne, 
I  saugh  cominge  of  ladyiis  nyntene 
In  real  habit,  a  ful  esy  paas; 
And  after  hem  com  of  women  swich  a 

traas,  285 

That,  sin  that   god   Adam  had   mad    of 

erthe. 
The  thridde   part  of  mankynd,   or   the 

ferthe, 
Ne  wende  I  nat  by  possibilitee. 
Had  ever  in  this  vvyde  worlde  y-be; 
And  trewe   of  love    thise    women  were 

echoon.  290 

Now  whether  was  that  a  wonder  thing 

or  noon. 
That,  right  anoon   as   that    they   gonne 

espye 
This  flour,  which  that  I  clepe  the  dayesye, 
Ful  sodeinly  they  stinten  alle  at  ones, 
And  kneled    doun,   as    it    were    for    the 

nones,  295 


400 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


Upon  the  softe  and  swote  grene  gras  225 

They  setten  hem  ful  softely  adoun, 

By  ordre  alia  in  compas,  alle  enveroun. 

First  sat  the  god  of  love,  and  than  this 

quene 
With  the  whyte  coroun,  clad  in  grene; 
And    sithen    al    the   remenant   by   and 

by,  230 

As  they  were  of  degree,  ful  curteisly; 
Ne    nat    a    word    was    spoken    in    the 

place 
The    mountance    of    a    furlong-wey    of 

space. 
I,  lening  faste  by  under  a  bente, 
Abood,    to    knowen    what     this    peple 

mente,  235 

As  stille  as  any  stoon;   til  at  the  laste. 

The  god  of  love  on  me  his  eye  caste, 
And  seyde,  'who  resteth  ther?'    and  I 

answerde 
Un-to  his  axing,  whan  that  I  him  herde. 
And  seyde,  'sir,  hit  am  I ';   and  cam  him 

neer,  240 

And  salued  him.    Quod  he,  'what  dostovv 

heer 
In  my  presence,  and  that  so  boldely? 
For  it  were  better  worthy,  trewely, 
A  werm  to  comen  in  my  sight  than  thou.' 

'And  why,  sir,'  quod  I,  'and  hit  lyke 
yow?'  245 

'  For  thou,'  quod  he,  '  art  ther-to  nothing 
able. 

My  servaunts  been  alle  wyse  and  honour- 
able. 

Thou  art  my  mortal  fo,  and  me  warreyest, 

And  of  myne  olde  servaunts  thou  mis- 

seyest. 
And   hinderest    hem   with    thy   transla- 

cioun,  250 

And  lettest  folk  to  han  devocioun 
To  serven  me,  and  baldest  hit  folye 
To   troste  on  me.     Thou  mayst   hit  nat 

denye; 


And    songen    with    o    vois,    '  Hele    and 

honour 
To  trouthe  of  womanhede,  and    to  this 

flour 
That  berth  our  alder  prys  in  figuringe  ! 
Hir  whyte  coroun  berth  the  witnessinge  ! ' 
And    with   that    word,   a-compas   en- 

viroun,  300 

They  setten  hem  ful  softely  adoun. 

First  sat  the  god  of  love,  and  sith    his 

quene 
With  the  whyte  coroun,  clad  in  grene; 
And  sithen  al  the  remenant  by  and  liy, 

As  they  were  of  estaat,  ful  curteisly;    305 
Ne    nat    a    word    was    spoken    in    the 

place 
The    mountance   of    a    furlong-wey   of 

space. 
I  kneling  by  this  flour,  in  good  entente 
Abood,    to    knowen    what     this    peple 

mente, 
As    stille    as    any    stoon;     til     at     the 

laste,  310 

This  god  of  love  on  me  his  eyen  caste. 
And  seyde,  'who  kneleth  ther'?   and  I 

answerde 
Unto  his  asking,  whan  that  I  hit  lienle. 
And  seyde,  'sir,  hit  am  I ' ;  and  com  him 

neer, 
And  salued  him.     Quod  he, '  what  dostow 

heer  315 

So  nigh  myn  owne  flour,  so  boldely? 
For  it  were  better  worthy,  trewely, 
A  worm  to  neghen  neer  my  flour  than 

thou.' 
'  And  why,  sir,'  quod  I,  '  and  hit   lyke 

yow? ' 
'  For  thou,'  quod  he, '  art  ther-to  nothing 

able.  320 

Hit  is  my  relik,  digne  and  delytable. 

And  thou  my  fo,  and  al  my  folk  werrey- 

est. 
And   of  myn   olde  servaunts  thou  mis- 

seyest. 
And  hindrest  hem,  with  thy  translacioun, 

And  lettest  folk  from  hir  devocioun    325 
To  serve  me,  and  boldest  hit  folye 
To   serve    Love.     Thou    mayst    hit    nat 
denye; 


PROLOGUE.     A.    225-289.     B.    296-335. 


401 


For  in  pleyn  text,  hit    nedeth    nat    to 

glose, 
Thou  hast  translated  the  Romauns  cf  the 

Rose,  255 

That  is  an  heresye  ageyns  my  lawe. 
And  makest  wyse  folk  fro  me  withdrawe. 
Antl  thinkest  in  thy  wit,  that  is  ful  cool, 
That  he  nis  liut  a  verray  propre  fool 
That    loveth    paramours,  to    harde    and 

hole.  2Cx3 

Wei  wot  I  ther-by  thou  beginnest  dote 
As  olde  foles,  whan  hir  spirit  fayletli; 
Than  blame  they  folk,  and  wite  nat  what 

hem  aylcth. 
Hast  thou  nat  mad  in  English  eek  the 

book 
How  that  Crisseyde  Troilus  forsook,  265 

In  shewinge  how  that  wemen  han  don 

mis? 
But  natheles,  answere  me  now  to  this. 
Why  noldest  thou  as  wel  han  seyd  good- 

nesse 
Of  wemen,  as  thou  hast   seyd  wikked- 

nesse? 
Was  ther  no  good  matere  in  thy  minde, 
Ne  in  alle  thy  bokes  coudest  thou  nat 

tinde  271 

Sum  story  of  wemen  that  were  goode  and 

trewe? 
Yis !  god  wot,  sixty  bokes  olde  and  newe 
Hast   thou  thy-self,  alle  fulle  of  stories 

grete, 
That   bothe    Remains   and    eek    Grekes 

trete  275 

Of   sundry  wemen,  which  lyf  that  they 

ladde. 
And    ever  an  hundred  gode  ageyn  oon 

badde. 
This  knoweth  god,  and  alle  clerkes  eke, 
That  usen  swiche  materes  for  to  seke. 
What  seith  Valerie,  Titus,  or  C'laudian? 
What  seith  lerome  ageyns  lovinian?  281 
How   clene    maydens,    and    how   trewe 

wyves, 
How  stedfast  widwes  during  al  hir  lyves, 
Telleth  lerome  ;  and  that  nat  of  a  fewe. 
But,  I  dar  seyn,  an  hundred  on  a  rewe; 
That  hit  is  pitee  for  to  rede,  and  routhe. 
The  wo  that  they  enduren  for  hir  trouthe. 
E"or  to  hir  love  were  they  so  trewe, 
That,   rather    than    they   wolde    take   a 

newe,  289 

2D 


For  in  pleyn    text,  with-outen    ncde    of 

glose. 
Thou  hast  translated   the  Romaunce  of 

the  Rose, 
That  is  an  heresye  ageyns  my  lawe,    330 
And  makest  wyse  folk  fro  me  withdrawe. 


And  of  Criseyde  thou  hast  seyd  as  thee 

liste. 
That  maketh  men  to  wommen  lasse  triste. 
That  ben  as  trewe  as  ever  was  any  steel. 
Of  thyn  answere  avyse  thee  right  weel; 

335 


402 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


They  chosen  to  be  dede  in  sundry  wyse, 
And  deyden,  as  the  story  wol  devyse; 
And  some  were  brend,  and  some  were 

cut  the  hals, 
And  some  dreynt,  for  they  wolden  nat  be 

fals. 
For  alle  keped  they  hir  maydenhed, 
Or  elles  wedlok,  or  hir  widwehed.       295 
And  this  thing  was  nat  kept  for  holinesse, 
But  al  for  verray  vertu  and  clennesse, 
And  for  men  shulde  sette  on  hem  no  lak; 
And  yit  they  weren  hethen,  al  the  pak, 
That  were  so  sore  adrad  of  alle  shame.  300 
These  olde  wemen  kepte  so  hir  name, 
That  in  this  world  I  trow  men  shal  nat 

finde 
A  man  that  coude  be  so  trewe  and  kinde, 
As  was  the  leste  woman  in  that  tyde. 
What  seith  also  the  epistels  of  Ovyde  305 
Of  trewe  wyves,  and  of  hir  labour? 
What  Vincent,  in  his  Storial  Mirour? 
Eek  al   the  world  of  autours   maystow 

here, 
Cristen     and     hethen,    trete     of    swich 

matere; 
It  nedeth  nat  alday  thus  for  tendyte.  310 
But  yit  I  sey,  what  eyleth  thee  to  wryte 
The  draf  of  stories,  and  forgo  the  corn? 
By    seint    Venus,  of   whom    that    I    was 

born. 
Although  [that]  thou  reneyed  hast  my  lay, 

As  othere  olde  foles  many  a  day,         315 


Thou  shalt  repente  hit,  that  hit  shal  be 

sene ! ' 
Than    spak    Alceste,   the    worthieste 

quene. 
And  seyde,  '  god,  right  of  your  curtesye, 
Ye  moten  herknen  if  he  can  replye 
Ageyns  these  points  that  ye  han  to  him 

meved;  320 

A  god  ne  sholde  nat  be  thus  agreved. 
But  of  his  deitee  he  shal  be  stable, 
And  therto  rightful  and  eek  merciable. 
He  shal  nat  rightfully  his  yre  wreke    324 
Or  he  have  herd  the  tother  party  speke. 
Al  ne  is  nat  gospel  that  is  to  yow  pleyned ; 
The  god  of  love  berth  many  a  tale  y-fey ned. 

For  in  your  court  is  many  a  losengeour, 
And  many  a  queynte  totelere  accusour, 


For,  thogh  that  thou  reneyed   hast   my 
lay,  336 

As  other  wrecches  han  doon  many  a  day, 
By  seynt  Venus,  that  my  moder  is. 
If  that  thou  live,  thou  shalt  repenten  this 
So  cruelly,  that  hit  shal  wel  be  sene  ! '  340 

Tho  spak  this  lady,  clothed  al  in  grene. 

And  seyde,  'god,  right  of  your  curtesye, 
Ye  moten  herknen  if  he  can  replye 
Agayns  al  this  that  ye  han  to  him  meved; 

A  god  ne  sholde  nat  be  thus  agreved,  345 
But  of  his  deitee  he  shall  be  stable, 
And  therto  gracious  and  merciable. 
And  if  ye  nere  a  god,  that  knowen  al. 
Than  mighte  hit  be,  as  I  yow  tellen  shal; 
This    man    to    you    may  falsly  been    ac- 
cused, 350 
Ther  as  by  right  him  oghte  been  excused. 
For  in  your  court  is  many  a  losengeour, 
And  many  a  queynte  totelere  accusour. 


PROLOGUE.     A.   290-371.     B.   336-385. 


403 


That  tabouren  in  your  eres  many  a  thing 
For  hate,  or  for  lelous  iniaj^ining,  331 
And  for  to  han  with  yow  som  daliaunce. 
Envye    (I    prey    to    god    yeve    hir    niis- 

chaunce !) 
Is  lavender  in  the  grete  court  ahvay. 
For  she  ne  parteth,  neither  night  ne  day, 
Out    of  the   hous   of  Cesar;    thus   seith 

Dante;  336 

\Vii(j-S(j  that  goth,  alwey  she  moot  [nat] 

wante. 
This    man    to    yow   may   wrongly   been 

accused, 
Ther  as  by  right  him  oghte  been  excused. 
Or  elles,  sir,  for  that  this  man  is  nyce,  340 
He  may  translate  a  thing  in  no  malyce, 
But  for  he  useth  bokes  for  to  make, 
And  takth  non  heed  of  what  matere  he 

take; 
Therfor  he  wroot  the  Rose  and  eek  Cris- 

seyde 
Of  innocence,  and  niste  what  he  seyde; 
Or  him  was  boden  make  thilke  tweye  346 
Of  som  persone,  and  durste  hit  nat  with- 

seye; 
For  he  hath  writen  many  a  book  er  this. 
He  ne  hath  nat  doon  so  grevously  amis 
To  translaten  that  olde  clerkes  wryten, 
As  thogh   that  he   of  malice  wolde  en- 

(lyten  351 

Despyt    of    love,    and    hadde    him-self 

y-wroght. 
This  shulde  a  rightwys  lord  han  in  his 

thoght. 
And  nat  be  lyk  tiraunts  of  Lumbardye, 
That  uscn  wilfulhed  and  tirannye,        355 
For  he  that  king  or  lord  is  naturel, 
Him  oghte  nat  be  liraunt  ne  cruel, 
As  is  a  fcrmour,  to  doon  the  harm  he 

can. 
He  moste  thinke  hit  is  his  lige  man. 
And  that  him  oweth,  of  verray  duetee, 
Shewen  his  peple  pleyn  benignitee,     361 
And  wel  to  here  hir  excusaciouns, 
And  hir  compleynles  and  peticiouns, 
In  iluewe  tyme,  whan  they  shal  hit  profrc. 
This  is  the  sentence  of  the  philosophre  : 
A  king  to  kepe  his  liges  in  lustyce;    366 
With-outen  doute,  that  is  his  offyce. 
And  therto  is  a  king  ful  depe  y-sworn, 
Ful  many  an  hundred  winter  heer-biforn; 
And  for  to  kepe  his  lordes  hir  degree,  370 
As  hit  is  right  and  skilful  that  they  be 


That  tabouren  in  your  eres  many  a  soun, 
Right  after  hir  imaginacioun,  355 

To  have  your  daliance,  and  for  envye; 
These  been  the  causes,  and  I  shall  nat 

lye. 
Envye  is  lavender  of  the  court  alway; 
For  she  ne  parteth,  neither  night  ne  day, 
Out   of  the    hous    of  Cesar;    thus  seith 

Dante;  360 

Who-so  that  goth,  algate   she  wol    nat 

wante. 


And  eek,  paraunter,  for  this  man  is  nyce, 
He  mighte  doon  hit,  gessing  no  malyce. 
But  for  he  useth  thinges  for  to  make; 
Him  rekketh  noght  of  what  matere  he 
take;  365 


Or  him  was  boden  maken  thilke  tweye 
Of  som  persone,  and  durste  hit  nat  with- 

seye ; 
C)r  him  repcnteth  utterly  of  this. 
He  ne  hath  nat  doon  so  grevously  amis 
To  translaten  that  olde  clerkes  wryten, 
As  thogh  that  he   of  malice  wolde  en- 

dyten  371 

Despyt   of   love,    and   had   him-self  hit 

wroght. 
This  shulde  a  rightwys  lord  have  in  his 

thoght. 
And  nat  be  lyk  tiraunts  of  Lumbardye, 
Than  han  no  reward  l)ut  at  tirannye.  375 
For  he  that  king  or  lord  is  naturel, 
Him  oghte  nat  be  tiraunt  ne  cruel, 
As  is  a  fermour,  to  doon  the  harm  he 

can. 
He  moste  thinke  hit  is  his  lige  man,  379 


And  is  his  tresour,  and  his  gold  in  cofre. 
This  is  the  sentence  of  the  jihilosophre : 
A  king  to  kepe  his  liges  in  lustyce; 
With-outen  doute,  that  is  his  offyce. 


Al  wol  he  kepe  his  lordes  hir  degree, 
As  hit  is  right  and  skilful  that  they  be  3S5 


404 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


Enhaunced    and    honoured,    and    most 

dere  — 
For  they  ben  half-goddes  in  this  world 

here  — 
This  shal  he  doon,  bothe  to  pore  [and] 

riche, 
Al  be  that  here  stat  be  nat  a-liche,      375 
And  han  of  pore  folk  conipassioun. 
For  lo,  the  gentil  kind  of  the  lioun ! 
For  whan  a  flye  offendeth  him  or  byteth, 
He  with  his  tayl  awey  the  flye  smyteth 
Al  esily;    for,  of  his  genterye,  380 

Him  deyneth  nat  to  wreke  him  on  a  flye, 
As  doth  a  curre  or  elles  another  beste. 
In  noble  corage  oghte  been  areste, 
And  weyen  every  thing  by  equitee,      384 
And  ever  han  reward  to  his  owen  degree. 
For,  sir,  hit  is  no  maystrie  for  a  lord 
To  dampne  a  man  with-oute  answere  or 

word; 
And,  for  a  lord,  that  is  ful  foul  to  use. 
And  if  so  be  he  may  him  nat  excuse, 
[But]    axeth     mercy    with    a    sorweful 

herte,  390 

And   profreth    him,   right    in    his    bare 

sherte, 
To  been  right  at  your  owne  lugement, 
Than  oghte  a  god,  by  short  avysement, 
Considre  his  owne  honour  and  his  trespas. 

For  sith  no  cause  of  death  lyth  in  this 
cas,  _  395 

Yow  oghte  been  the  lighter  merciable; 
Letelh  your  yre,  and  beth  somwhat  tret- 
able  ! 
The  man  hath  served  yow  of  his  conning, 
And  forthered  your  lawe  with  his  making. 
Whyl  he  was  yong,  he  kepte  your  estat; 
I  not  wher  he  be  now  a  renegat.  401 

But  well  I  wot,  with  that  he  can  endyte, 
He  hath  maked  lewed  folk  delyte 
To  serve  you,  in  preysing  of  your  name. 
He  made  the  book  that  hight  the  Hous 
of  Fame,  405 

And   eek    the    Death    of  Blaunche    the 

Duchesse, 
And  the  Parlement  of  Foules,  as  I  gesse. 
And  al  the  love  of  Palamon  and  Arcyte 
Of  Thebes,  thogh  the    story  is   knowen 

lyte; 
And  many  an  ympne  for  your  halydayes. 
That   highten  Balades,  Roundels,  Vire- 
layes;  411 


Enhaunced    and    honoured,    and    most 

dere  — 
For  they  ben  half-goddes  in  this  world 

here  — 
Yit  mot  he   doon  bothe   right,  to   pore 

and  riche, 
Al  be  that  hir  estat  be  nat  y-liche, 
And  han  of  pore  folk  compassioun.     390 
For  lo,  the  gentil  kynd  of  the  leoun  ! 
For  whan  a  flye  offendeth  him  or  byteth, 
He  with  his  tayl  awey  the  flye  smyteth 
Al  esily;    for,  of  his  genterye, 
Him  deyneth  nat  to  wreke  him  on  a  flye. 
As  doth  a  curre  or  elles  another  beste.  396 
In  noble  corage  oghte  been  areste. 
And  weyen  every  thing  by  equitee. 
And  ever  han  reward  to  his  owen  degree. 
For,  sir,  hit  is  no  maystrie  for  a  lord   400 
To  dampne  a  man  with-oute  answere  of 

word ; 
And,  for  a  lord,  that  is  ful  foul  to  use. 
And  if  so  be  he  may  him  nat  excuse. 
But  asketh  mercy  with  a  dredful  herte. 

And    profreth   him,   right    in    his   bare 
sherte,  405 

To  been  right  at  your  owne  lugement. 
Than  oghte  a  god,  by  short  avysement, 
Considre  his  owne  honour  and  his  tres- 
pas. 
For  sith  no  cause  of  deeth  lyth  in  this 

cas, 
Yow  oghte  been  the  lighter  merciable; 
Leteth  your  yre,  and  beth  somwhat  tret- 
able  !  411 
The  man  hath  served  yow  of  his  conning. 
And  forthred  wel  your  lawa  in  his  making. 


'  Al  be  hit  that  he  can  nat  well  endyte, 
Yet  hath  he  maked  lewed  folk  delyte  415 
To  serve  you,  in  preysing  of  your  name. 
He  made  the  book  that  hight  the  Hous 

of  Fame, 
And   eek    the  Deeth   of  Blaunche   the 

Duchesse, 
And  the  Parlement  of  Foules,  as  I  gesse, 
And  al  the  love  of  Palamon  and  Arcyte 
Of  Thebes,   thogh   the   story  is  knowen 

lyte;  421 

And  many  an  ympne  for  your  halydayes, 
That   highten    Balades,  Roundels,  Vire- 

layes; 


I 


PROLOGUE.     A.   372-451.     B.   386-461. 


405 


And  for  to  speke  of  other  besinesse, 
He  hath  in  prose  translated  Boece; 
And    of    the    Wreched    Engendring    of 
Mankinde,  414 

As  man  may  in  ]iope  Innocent  y-finde; 
And  mad  the  Lyf  also  of  seynt  Cecyle; 
He  made  also,  goon  sithen  a  greet  vvhyl, 
Origcnes  upon  the  Maudeleyne; 
Him  oghte  now  to  have  the  lesse  peyne; 
He  hath  mad  many  a  lay  and  many  a 
thing.  420 

'Now  as  ye  been  a  god,  and  eek   a 
king, 
I,  your  Alceste,  whylom  quene  of  Trace, 
1  axe  yow  this  man,  right  of  your  grace, 
That  ye  him  never  hurte  in  al  his  lyve; 
And    he   shal  sweren  yow,  and   that  as 
blyve,  425 

He  shal  no  more  agilten  in  this  wyse; 
But  he  shal  maken,  as  ye  wil  devyse. 
Of  wemen  trewe  in  lovinge  al  hir  lyve, 
Wher-so  ye  wil,  of  maiden  or  of  wyve. 
And  forthren  yow,  as  muche  as  he  mis- 
seyde  430 

Or  in  the  Rose  or  elles  in  Crisseyde.' 
The   god    of   love   answerde   hir    thus 
anoon, 
'Madame,'  quod  he,  'hit  is  so  long  agoon 
That    I    yow    knew    so    charitable    and 

trewe. 
That  never  yit,  sith  that  the  world  was 
newe,  435 

To  me  ne  fond  I  better  noon  than  ye. 
That,  if  that  I  wol  save  my  degree, 
I  may  ne  wol  nat  warne  your  requeste; 
Al  lyth  in  yow,  doth  with  him  what  yow 
leste  439 

And  al  foryeve,  with-outen  lenger  space; 
For  who-so  yeveth  a  yift,  or  doth  a  grace. 
Do  hit  by  tyme,  his   thank   is  wel   the 

more; 

And  (lemeth  ye  what  he  shal  do  therfore. 

Go  thanke  now  my  lady  heer,'  quod  he. 

I  roos,  and  doun  I  sette  me  on  my 

knee,  445 

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  long  for  to  live. 
That  I  may  knowe  soothly  what  ye  be 
Than  han  me  holpen,  and  put  in  swich 
degree.  451 


And,  for  to  speke  of  other  holynesse, 
He  hath  in  prose  translated  Boece,     425 


And  mad  the  Lyf  also  of  seynt  Cecyle; 
He  made  also,  goon  sithen  a  greet  whyl, 
Origenes  ujion  the  Maudeleyne; 
Him  oghte  now  to  have  the  lesse  peyne; 
He  hath  mad  many  a  lay  and   many  a 

thing.  430 

•Now  as  ye  been  a  god,  and  eek  a 

king, 
I,  your  Alceste,  whylom  quene  of  Trace, 
I  aske  yow  this  man,  right  of  your  grace. 
That  ye  him  never  hurte  in  al  his  lyve; 
And  he  shal  sweren  yow,  and  that  as 

blyve,  435 

He  shal  no  more  agilten  in  this  wyse; 
But  he  shal  maken,  as  ye  wil  devyse, 
Of  wommen  trewe  in  lovinge  al  hir  lyve, 
Wher-so  ye  wil,  of  maiden  or  of  wyve. 
And  forthren  yow,  as  muche  as  he  mis- 

seyde  440 

Or  in  the  Rose  or  elles  in  Creseyde.' 
The   god    of  love   answerde    hir    thus 

anoon, 
'  Madame,'  quod  he, '  hit  is  so  long  agoon 
That    I    yow    knew    so    charitable    and 

trewe, 
That  niver  yit,  sith  that  the  world  was 

newe,  445 

To  me  ne  fond  I  better  noon  than  ye. 
If  that  I  wolde  save  my  degree, 
I  may  ne  wol  nat  werne  your  requeste; 
Al   lyth  in  yow,  doth  with   him   as  yow 

leste. 
I  al  foryeve,  with-outen  lenger  space ;  450 
For  who-so  yeveth  a  yift,  or  doth  a  grace, 
Do  hit  by  tyme,  his  thank  is  wel  the 

more; 
And  demeth  ye  what  he  shal  do  therfore. 
Go  thanke  now  my  lady  heer,'  quod  he. 
I  roos,  and   doun   I   sette   me  on   my 

knee,  455 

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  long  for  to  live, 
That  I  may  knowe  soothly  what  ye  be  460 
That  han  me  holpe  antl  put  in  this  de- 
gree. 


4o6 


THE   LEGEND   OF   G  )( )D   WOMEN. 


But  trewely  I  wende,  as  in  this  cas, 
Naught  have  agilt,  ne  doon  to  love  tres- 

pas.  453 

Forvvhy  a  trewe  man,  with-outen  drede, 
Hath  nat  to  parten  with  a  theves  dede; 
Ne  a  trewe  lover  oghte  me  nat  blame, 
Thogh    that  I  speke    a  fals   lover  som 

shame. 
They  oghte  rather  with  me  for  to  holde, 
Fur  that  I  of  Creseyde  wroot  or  tokle, 
Or  of  the  Rose;     what-so  myn  auctour 

mente,  460 

Algate,  god  wot,  hit  was  myn  entente 
To   forthren    trouthe    in    love    and    hit 

cheryce; 
And  to  be  war  fro  falsnesse  and  fro  vyce 
By  swich  ensample;   this  was  my  men- 

inge.' 
And     she     answerde,     Mat    be    thyn 

arguinge;  465 

For  Love  ne  wol  nat  countrepleted  be 
In  right  ne  wrong ;    and   lerne  this  at 

me ! 
Thou  hast  thy  grace,  and  hold  thee  right 

ther-to. 
Now  wol  I  seyn  what  penance  thou  shalt 

do 
For    thy    trespas,    and    understond    hit 

here :  470 

Thou  shalt,  whyl  that  thou  livest,  yeer 

by  yere 
The  moste  party  of  thy  lyve  spende 
In  making  of  a  glorious  Legende 
Of  Gode  Wenien,  maidenes  and  wyves, 
That  were  trewe  in  lovinge  al  hir  lyves; 
And  telle  of  false  men  that  hem  bitrayen, 
That  al  hir  lyf  ne  doon  nat  but  assayen 
How   many   wemen   they   may   doon   a 

shame;  478 

For  in  your  world  that  is  now  holden 

game. 
And  thogh  thee  lesteth  nat  a  lover  be, 
Spek  wel  of  love;  this  penance  yeve  I 

thee.  481 

And  to  the  god  of  love  I  shal  so  preye. 
That  he  shal  charge  his  servants,  by  any 

weye, 
To  forthren    thee,  and  wel  thy   labour 

quyte; 
Go   now   thy  wey,   thy   penance  is  but 

lyte.'  485 


But  trewely  I  wende,  as  in  this  cas, 
Naught  have  agilt,  ne  doon  to  love  tres- 
pas. 463 
Forwhy  a  trewe  man,  with-outen  drede; 
Hath  nat  to  parten  with  a  theves  dede; 
Ne  a  trewe  lover  oghte  me  nat  blame, 
Thogh    that    I    speke   a  fals    lover    som 

shame. 
They  oghte  rather  with  me  for  to  holde, 
For  that  I  of  Creseyde  wroot  or  tokle. 
Or  of  the   Rose;   what-so  myn  auctour 

mente,  470 

Algate,  god  wot,  hit  was  myn  entente 
To    forthren    trouthe     in    love    and    hit 

cheryce; 
And  to  be  war  fro  falsnesse  and  fro  vyce 
By  swich  ensample;   this  was   my  men- 

inge.' 
And     she    answerde,     '  lat    be    thyn 

arguinge;  475 

For  Love  ne  wol  nat  countrepleted  be 
In  right   ne  wrong;    and  lerne  that  of 

me ! 
Thou  hast  thy  grace,  and  hold  thee  right 

ther-to. 
Now  wol  I  seyn  what  penance  thou  shalt 

do 
For  thy    trespas,    and    understond    hit 

here :  480 

Thou  shalt,  whyl  that  thou  livest,  yeer 

by  yere, 
The  moste  party  of  thy  tyme  spende 
In  making  of  a  glorious  Legende         483 
Of  Gode  Wommen,  maidenes  and  wyves. 
That  weren  trewe  in  lovinge  al  hir  lyves ; 
And  telle  of  false  men  that  hem  bitrayen, 
That  al  hir  lyf  ne  doon  nat  but  assayen 
How  many  wommen  they  may  doon  a 

shame; 
For  in  your  world  that  is   now  holde  a 

game. 
And  thogh  thee  l)'ke  nat  a  lover  be,  490 
Spek  wel  of  love;    this  penance   yive  I 

thee. 
And  to  the  god  of  love  I  shal  so  preye, 
That  he  shal  charge  his  servants,  by  any 

weye. 
To    forthren   thee,   and   wel   thy    labour 

quyte ; 
Go  now  thy  wey,   this  penance  is  but 

lyte.  495 

And  whan  this  book  is  maad,  yive  hit  the 

quene 


rROI.OGUE.     A.   452-521.     B.   462-533. 


407 


The  god  of  love  gan  smyle,  and  than  he 

seyde, 
*  Wostow,'  quod  he,  '  wher  this  be  wyf  or 

mayde, 
Or  queue,  or  couiitesse,  or  of  what  de- 
gree, 
That  hath  so  litel  penance  yeven  thee, 
Tliat  hast  deserved  sorer  for  to  snieite  ? 
But  pitee  renncth  sone  in  gentil  herte; 
That  mayst   thou  seen,  she  kytheth  what 

she  is.'  493 

And   I   answerde,  '  nay,  sir,  so    have    I 

hlis. 
No  more  hut  that  I  see  wel  she  is  good.' 

'That  is  a  trewe  tale,  by  myn  hood,' 
Quod  L.ove, '  and  that  thou  knowest  wel, 

pardee,  496 

If  hit  be  so  that  thou  avyse  thee. 
Ilastow  nat  in  a  book,  lyth  in  thy  cheste. 
The     grete     goodnesse    of     the    quene 

Alceste, 
That  turned  was  into  a  dayesye  :         500 
She  that  for  hir  husbonde  chees  to  dye. 
And  eek  to  goon  to  helle,   rather  than 

he, 
And  Ercules  rescued  hir,  pardee, 
And  broghte  hir  out  of  helle  agayn  to 

blis?' 
And    I    answerde    ageyn,   and   seyde, 

•yis,  .         .        505 

Now   knowe  I  hir !    And  is   this   good 

Alceste, 
The  dayesye,  and  myn  ovvne  hertes  reste  ? 
Now  fele  I  wel  the  goodnesse  of  this 

wyf, 
That  bothe  after  hir  deeth,  and  in   hir 

lyf.  .  509 

Hir  grete  bountee  doubleth  hir  renoun  ! 
Wel  hath  she  quit  me  myn  affeccioun 
That  I  have  to  hir  flour,  the  dayesye ! 
No  wonder  is  thogh  love  hir  stellifye, 
As  telleth  Agaton,  for  hir  goodnesse  ! 
Hir  whyte  coroun  berth  of  hit  wit- 
nesse;  515 

For  also  many  vertues  hadde  she, 
As  smale  floures  in  hir  coroun  be. 
In  remembraunce  of  hir  and  in  honour, 

Cibella  made  the  dayesy  and  the  flour 
Y-coroned  al  with    whyt,    as    men    may 
see;  520 

And  Mars  yaf  to  hir  coroun  reed,  pardee, 


On  my  behalfe,  at  Kltham,  or  at  Shcne.' 
The  god  of  love  gan  smyle,  and   than 

he  seyde, 
'  Wostow,'  ()uod  he,  '  wher  this  be  wyf  or 

mayde, 
Or  quene,  or  countesse,  or  of  what  de- 
gree, 500 
That  hath  so  litel  penance  yiven  thee, 
That  hast  deserved  sorer  for  to  smcrte? 
But  pitee  renneth  sone  in  gentil  herte; 
That   maystovv   seen,    she   kytiieth   what 

she    is.' 
And    I    answerde,    '  nay,  sir,  so  have  I 

blis,  505 

No  more  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  hit  be  so  that  thou  avyse  thee. 
Hastow  nat  in  a  book,  lyth  in  thy  cheste, 
The    grete     goodnesse    of     the    quene 

Alceste,  511 

That  turned  was  into  a  dayesye : 
She  that  for  hir  husbonde  chees  to  dye, 
And  eek  to  goon  to  helle,  rather  than 

he. 
And  Ercules  rescowed  hir,  pardee,     515 
And   broghte  hir  out  of  helle  agayn  to 

blis?' 
And    I  answerde    ageyn,  and   seyde, 

'yis. 
Now  knowe  I   hir !     And  is  this  good 

Alceste, 
The  dayesye,  and  myn  owne  hertes  reste? 
Now   fele   I  wel    the  goodnesse    of  this 

wyf,  520 

That  bothe  after  hir  deeth,  and  in  hir 

lyf, 

Hir  grete  bountee  doubleth  hir  renoun  ! 
Wel  hath  she  quit  me  myn  affeccioun 
That  I  have  to  hir  flour,  the  dayesye ! 
No  wonder  is  thogh  love  hir  stellifye,  525 
As  telleth  Agaton,  for  hir  goodnesse  ! 
Hir  whyte  coroun  berth  of  hit  witnesse; 

For  also  many  vertues  hadde  she, 
As  smale  floures  in  hir  coroun  be. 
In    remembraunce    of   hir   and    in    hon- 
our, 530 
Cibella  made  the  dayesy  and  the  flour 
Y-coroned  al   with    whyt,    as    men    may 

see ; 
And  Mars  yaf  to  hir  coroun  reed,  pardee, 


4o8 


THE   LEGEND   OF  GOOD  WOMEN. 


In  stede  of  rubies,  set  among  the  whyte.' 
Therwith  this  quene  wex  reed  for 
shame  a  lyte, 

Whan  she  was  preysed  so  in  hir  presence. 

Than  seyde  Love,  '  a  ful  gret  negli- 
gence 525 

Was  hit  to  thee,  to  write  unstedfast- 
nesse 

Of  women,  sith  thou  knovest  hir  good- 
nesse 

By  preef,  and  eek  by  stories  heer-biforn; 

Let  be  the  chaf,  and  wryt  wel  of  the 
corn. 

Why  noldest  thou  han  writen  of  Al- 
ceste,  530 

And  leten  Criseide  been  a-slepe  and 
reste? 

For  of  Alceste  shulde  thy  wryting  be, 

Sin  that  thou  west  that  kalender  is  she 

Of  goodnesse,  for  she  taughte  of  fyn 
lovinge, 

And  namely  of  wyfhood  the  livinge,   535 

And  alle  the  boundes  that  she  oghte 
kepe; 

Thy  litel  wit  was  thilke  tyme  a-slepe. 

But  now  I  charge  thee,  upon  thy  lyf. 

That  in  thy  Legend  thou  make  of  this 
wyf. 

Whan  thou  hast  othere  smale  mad  be- 
fore ;  540 

And  fare  now  wel,  I  charge  thee  no 
more. 


In  stede  of  rubies,  set  among  the  whyte.' 

Therwith    this    quene   wex    reed    for 

shame  a  lyte,  535 

Whan  she  was  preysed  so  in  hir  presence. 

Than  seyde  Love,  '  a  ful  gret  negligence 

Was  hit   to    thee,  that   ilke    tyme    thou 

made 
"  Hyd,  Absolon,  thy  tresses,"  in  balade. 
That  thou   forgete   hir   in   thy   song   to 

sette,  540 

Sin  that  thou  art  so  gretly  in  hir  dette, 


And  wost  so  wel,  that  kalender  is  she 
To  any  woman  that  vvol  lover  be. 
For  she  taughte  al  the  craft  of  fyn  lov- 
inge. 
And  namely  of  wyfhood  the  livinge,    545 
And    alle    the  boundes    that    she    oghte 

kepe; 
Thy  litel  wit  was  thilke  tyme  a-slepe. 
But  now  I  charge  thee,  upon  thy  lyf. 
That  in  thy  Legend  thou  make  of  this 

wyf. 
Whan   thou    hast   other   smale    y-maad 

before;  550 

And    fare   now  wel,  I    charge   thee    no 

more. 
'  But  er  I  go,  thus   muche  I  wol  thee 

telle, 
Ne  shal  no  trewe  lover  come  in  helle. 
Thise  other  ladies  sittinge  here  arowe 
Ben  in  thy  balade,   if  thou   canst   hem 

knowe,  555 

And  in  thy  bokes  alle  thou  shalt   hem 

finde; 
Have  hem   now  in   thy  Legend  alle  in 

minde, 
I  mene  of  hem  that  been  in  thy  know- 

inge. 
For  heer  ben  twenty  thousand  mo   sit- 
tinge 
Than    thou    knowest,   that    been    good 

wommen  alle  560 

And  trewe  of  love,  for  aught  that  may 

befalle; 
Make  the  metres  of  hem  as  thee  leste. 
I   mot   gon   hoom,   the   sonne    draweth 

weste, 


PROLOGUE.  A.  522-545,  a  534-579.  — LEGEND  OF  CLEOPATRA.  409 


'  At  Cleopatre  I  wol  that  thou  heginne; 
And  St)  forth;   ami  my  love  so  shalt  thou 
winne.' 


And   with    that   word    of    sleep    I    gan 

a-awake, 
And  right  thus   on   my   Legend   gan   I 

make.  545 

Explicit  p 


To  Paradys,  with  al  this  companye; 
And  serve  alvvey  the  fresshe  dayesye.  565 
'  At  Cleopatre  I  wol  that  thou  beginne; 
And  so  forth ;  and  my  love  so  shalt  thou 

winne. 
For  lat   see  now  what   man    that   lover 

be, 
Wol  doon  so  strong  a  peyne  for  love  as 

she. 
I  wot  wel    that    thou   mayst  nat   al    hit 

ryme,  570 

That  swiche  lovers  diden  in  hir  tyme; 
It  were  to  long  to  reden  and  to  here; 
Suffyceth  me,  thou  make  in  this  nianere, 
That    thou    reherce    of    al    hir    lyf   the 

grete, 
After    thise     olde     auctours     listen     to 

trete.  575 

For  who-so  shal  so  many  a  storie  telle, 
Sey  shortly,  or  he  shal  to  loiige  dwelle.' 
And  with    that  word    my    bokes    gan    I 

take. 
And  right    thus   on    my  Legend   gan    I 

make. 
ohemium. 


I.    THE   LEGEND   OF   CLEOPATRA. 


Incipit  Legenda  Cleopatrie,  Marti- 

RIS,  EgIPTI  REGINE. 

After    the    deeth    of    Tholomee     the 
king,  5S0 

That  al  Egipte  hadde  in  his  governing, 
Regned  his  quene  Cleopataras; 
Til  on  a  tyme  befel  ther  swiche  a  cas. 
That  out  of  Rome  was  sent  a  senatour. 
For  to  conqueren  regnes  and  honour  585 
Unto  the  toun  of  Rome,  as  was  usaunce, 
To  have  the  world  unto  her  obeisaunce; 
And,  sooth  to    seye,    Antonius    was   his 

name. 
So  fil  hit,  as  Fortune  him  oghte  a  shame 
Whan  he  was  fallen  in  prosperitee,      590 
Rebel  unto  the  toun  of  Rome  is  he. 
And  over  al  this,  the  suster  of  Cesar, 
He  lafte  hir  faisly,  er  that  she  was  war, 
And  wolde  algates  han  another  wyf; 
For  «hiche    he   took    with    Rome    and 
Cesar  stryf.  595 


Natheles,  for-sooth,  this  ilke  senatour 
Was  a  ful  worthy  gentil  werreyour, 
And    of    his    deeth    hit   was    ful    greet 

damage. 
But  love  had  broght  this  man  in  swiche 

a  rage, 
And    him    so    narwe    bounden    in    his 

las,  600 

Al  for  the  love  of  Cleopataras, 
That  al  the  world  he  sette  at  no  value. 
Him  thoughte,  nas  to  him  no  thing  so  due 
As  Cleopatras  for  to  love  and  serve; 
Him  roghte  nat  in  amies  for  to  stervc   605 
In  the  defence  of  hir,  and  of  hir  right. 
This  noble  quene   eek   lovede  so  this 

knight. 
Through  his  desert,  and  for  his  chivalrye; 
As  certeinly,  but-if  that  bokes  lye. 
He  was,  of  persone  and  of  gentilcsse,   610 
And  of  discrecioun  an<l  hardinesse, 
Wortlw  to  any  wiglit  that  liven  may. 
And  she  was  fair  as  is  the  rose  in  May. 


4IO 


THE   LEGEND   OF  GOOD   WOMEN. 


[614-683. 


And,  for  to  maken  shortly  is  the  beste, 
She  wex  his  vvyf,  and  hadde  him  as  hir 

leste.  615 

The  wedding  and  the  feste  to  devyse, 
To  me,  that  have  y-take  svviche  empryse 
Of  so  many  a  storie  for  to  make. 
Hit  were  to  long,  lest  that  I  sholde  slake 
Of  thing    that    bereth    more    effect   and 

charge;  620 

For  men  may  overlade  a  ship  or  barge; 
And  forthy  to  theffect  than  wol  I  skippe. 
And  al  the  remenant,  I  wol  lete  hit  slippe. 

Octovian,  that  wood  was  of  this  dede, 
Shoop  him  an  ost  on  Antony  to  lede     625 
Al-outerly  for  his  destruccioun, 
With  stoute  Romains,  cruel  as  leoun; 
To  ship  they  wente,  and  thus  I  let  hem 

saile. 
Antonius  was  war,  and  wol  nat  faile 
To   meten   with    thise    Romains,   if    he 

may;  630 

Took   eek  his  reed,  and  bothe,  upon  a 

day, 
His  wyf  and  he,  and  al  his  ost,  forth  wente 
To  shippe  anoon,  no  lenger  they  ne  stente ; 
And  in  the  see  hit  happed  hem  to  mete  — 
Up  goth  the  trompe  —  and  for  to  shoute 

and  shete,  635 

And  peynen  hem  to  sette  on  with  the 

Sonne. 
With  grisly  soun  out  goth  the  grete  gonne, 
And  heterly  they  hurtlen  al  at  ones. 
And  fro  the  top  doun  cometh  the  grete 

stones. 
In  goth  the  grapenel  so  ful  of  crokes    640 
Among  the  ropes,  and  the  shering-hokes. 
In  with  the  polax  presseth  he  and  he; 
Behind  the  mast  beginneth  he  to  flee. 
And  out  agayn,  and  dryveth  him  over- 

borde ;  644 

He  stingcth  him  upon  his  speres  orde; 
He  rent  the  sail  with  hokes  lyke  a  sythe; 
He  bringeth  the  cuppe,  and  biddeth  hem 

be  blythe; 
He   poureth   pesen   upon    the    hacches 

slider; 
With  pottes  ful  of  lym  they  goon  to-gider; 
And  thus  the   longe    day    in    fight    they 

spende  650 

Til,  at  the  laste,  as  every  thing  hath  ende, 
Antony    is    shent,  and    put    him    to    the 

flighte. 
And  al  his  folk  to-go,  that  best  go  mighte. 


Fleeth  eek  the  queen,  with  al  her  pur- 

pre  sail. 
For  strokes,  which  that  wente  as  thikke 

as  hail;  655 

No  wonder  was,  she  mighte  hit  nat  en- 
dure. 
And  whan  that  Antony  saw  that  aventure, 
'  Alias ! '  quod    he,  '  the  day  that  I  was 

born ! 
My  worshipe   in   this   day   thus   have  I 

lorn ! ' 
And   for   dispeyr   out    of    his   witte   he 

sterte,  660 

And  roof  him-self  anoon  through-out  the 

herte 
Er  that  he  ferther  wente  out  of  the  place. 
His  wyf,  that  coude  of  Cesar   have   no 

grace, 
To  Egipte  is  fled,  for  drede  and  for  dis- 

tresse; 
But  herkneth,  ye  that  speke    of  kinde- 

nesse.  665 

Ye  men,  that   falsly  sweren  many  an 

ooth 
That  ye  wol  dye,  if  that  your  love   be 

wrooth, 
Heer  may  ye  seen  of  women  whiche  a 

trouthe  ! 
This  woful    Cleopatre    hath    mad    swich 

routhe 
That  ther  nis   tonge  noon  that  may  hit 

telle.  670 

But    on    the    morwe    she  wol  no   lenger 

dwelle. 
But  made   hir  subtil  werkmen   make   a 

shryne 
Of  alle  the  rubies  and  the  stones  fyne 
In  al  Egipte  that  she  coude  espye; 
And  putte  ful  the  shryne  of  spyceryc,   675 
And  leet  the  cors  embaume;    and  forth 

she  fette 
This  dede  cors,  and    in    the    shryne  hit 

shette. 
And  next  the  shryne  a  pit  than  doth  she 

grave ; 
And    alle    the   serpents  that  she  mighte 

have, 
She  putte  hem  in  that  grave,  and  thus  she 

seyde :  680 

'Now  love,  to  whom  my  sorvveful  herte 

obeyde 
So  ferforthly  that,  fro  that  blisful  houre 
That  I  yow  swor  to  been  al  frely  youre, 


684-754-] 


THE   LEGEND   OF  TIIISUE   OF  BABYLON. 


411 


I  mene  yow,  Antonius  my  knif;;ht!       684 
That  never  waking,  in  the  day  or  nif^ht, 
Ye  nere  uut  of  inyii  hertes  renienihraunce 
For  welc  or  wo,  for  carole  or  for  dauiice; 
And   in   my-self   this    covenant    made    I 

tho, 
That,  right  svvich  as  ye  fclten,  wele  or  wo, 
As  ferforth  as  hit  in  my  jjower  lay,      690 
Unreprovable  unto  my  wyfhuod  ay, 
The  same  wolde  I  felen,  lyf  or  deeth. 
And   thilke   covenant,  whyl   me   lasteth 

breeth, 
1  wol  fullille,  and  tliat  shal  wel  be  sene; 
Was  never  unto  hir  love  a  trewer  quene.' 
Explicit  Legenda 


And  with  that  word,  naked,  with  ful  good 

herte,  696 

Among  the  serpents  in  the  pit  she  sterte, 
And  ther  she  chees  to  lian  hir  buryinge. 
Anoon  the  necKlres  gonne  hir  for  to  stinge, 
And  she  hir  deeth  reccyveth,  with  goo(l 

chere,  700 

For   love   of   Antony,   that   was   hir   so 

dere :  — 
And  this  is  storial  sooth,  hit  is  no  fable. 
Now,  er  I  linde  a  man  thus  trewe  and 

stable, 
And  wol  for  love  his  deeth  so  freely  take, 
I  pray  god  lat  our  hedes  never  ake !    705 
Cleopatrie,  ?nariiris. 


II.    THE   LEGEND   OF   THISBE   OF   BABYLON. 


Incii'IT  Legenda  Tesbe   Babilonie, 
Martiris. 

At  Babiloine  whylom  fil  it  thus, 
The  whiche  toun  the  queen  Semiramus 
Leet  (lichen  al  about,  and  walles  make 
Ful  hye,  of  harde  tyles  wel  y-bake. 
Ther  weren  dwellinge  in  this  noble  toun 
Two  lordes,  which  that  were  of  greet  re- 
noun,  711 
And  woneden  so  nigh,  upon  a  grene, 
That  ther  nas  but  a  stoon-wal  hem  bitwene, 
As  ofte  in  grete  tounes  is  the  wone. 
And  sooth  to  seyn,  that  o  man  hadde  a 
sone,  715 
Of  al  that  londe  oon  of  the  luslieste. 
That  other  hadde  a  doghter,  the  faireste, 
That  estward  in  the  world  was  tho  dwel- 
linge. 
The  name  of  everich  gan  to  other  springe 
By    wommen,    that     were     neighebores 
aboute.  720 
For  in  that  contree  yit,  withouten  doute, 
Maidens  been  y-kept,  for  lelosye, 
Ful  streite,  lest  they  diden  som  folye. 

This  yonge  man  was  cleped  Piramus, 
And   Tisbe  hight   the   maid,  Naso  seith 
thus;  725 

And  thus  by  report  was  hir  name  y-shove 
That,  as  they  wexe  in  age,  wex  hir  love; 
And  certein,  as  by  reson  of  hir  age, 
Ther    mighte    have    been    bitwix    hem 
mariage, 


But  that  hir  fadres  nolde  hit  nat  assente; 
And    bothe    in    love    y-lyke    sore    they 

brente,  731 

That  noon  of  alle  hir  frendes  mighte  hit 

lette 
But  prively  somtyme  yit  they  mette 
By   sleighte,    and    speken    som    of    hit 

desyr; 
As,  wry  the  gleed,  and  hotter  is  the  fyr  ; 
Forbede  a  love,  and  it  is  ten  so  wood.  736 
This  wal,  w  Inch  that  bitwix  hem  bothe 

stood, 
Was  cloven  a-two,  right    fro    the  toppe 

adoun, 
Of  olde  tynie  of  his  fundacioun  ; 
But  yit  this  clifte  was  so  narwe  and  lyte, 
It  nas  nat  sene,  dere  y-nogh  a  myte.  741 
But  what  is  that,  that  love  can  nat  espye? 
Ye  lovers  two,  if  that  I  shal  nat  lye, 
Ye  founden  first  this  litel  narwe  clifte; 
And,  with  a  soun  as  sofle  as  any  shrifte. 
They  lete  hir  wordes  through  the  clifte 

pace,  746 

And  tolden,  whyl  that  they  stode  in  the 

place, 
Al  hir  compleynt  of  love,  and  al  hir  wo. 
At  every  tyme  whan  they  dorste  so. 

Upon  that  o  syde  of  the  wal  stood  he, 
And  on  that  other  syde  stood  Tisbe,   75 1 
The  swote  soun  of  other  to  receyve, 
And    thus    hir  wardeins  wolde  they  de- 

ceyve. 
And  every  day  this  wal  they  wolde  threte. 


4t2 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD    WOMEN, 


[755-^34- 


And  wisshe  to   god,  that    it  were   doun 

y-bete.  755 

Thus   wolde   they   seyn  —  '  alias  !     thou 

wikked  wal, 
Through  thyn  envye  thou  us  lettest  al ! 
Why  nilt  thou  cleve,  or  fallen  al  a-two? 
Or,  at  the  leste,  but  thou  woldest  so, 
Yit  woldestovv  but  ones  lete  us  mete,  760 
Or  ones  that  we  mighte  kissen  swete, 
Than  were  we  covered  of  our  cares  colde. 
But  natheles,  yit  be  we  to  thee  holde 
In  as  muche  as  thou  sutfrest  for  to  goon 
Our  wordes    through  thy  lyme  and  eek 

thy  stoon.  .  7^5 

Yit  oghte  we  with  thee  ben  wel  apayd.' 
And    whan    thise    ydel  wordes    weren 

sayd, 
The  colde  wal  they  wolden  kisse  of  stoon. 
And  take  hir  leve,  and  forth  they  wolden 

goon. 
And  this  was  gladly  in  the  even-tyde  770 
Or  wonder  erly,  lest  men  hit  espyde; 
And    longe   tyme    they  wroghte    in    this 

manere 
Til  on  a  day,  whan  Phebus  gan  to  clere, 
Aurora  with  the  stremes  of  hir  hete 
Had  dryed  up  the  dew  of  herbes  wete; 
Unto  this  clifte,  as  it  was  wont  to  be,  776 
Com  Pyramus,  and  after  com  Tisbe, 
And  plighten  trouthe  fully  in  hir  fey 
That  ilke  same  night  to  stele  awey, 
And  to  begyle  hir  wardeins  everichoon. 
And  forth  out  of  the  citee  for  to  goon; 
And,  for  the  feldes  been  so   brode  and 

wyde, 
For  to  mete  in  o  place  at  o  tyde. 
They  sette  mark  hir  meting  sholde  be 
Ther    king    Ninus  was    graven,  under  a 

tree ;  785 

For  olde  payens  that  ydoles  heried 
Useden  tho  in  feldes  to  ben  beried; 
And  faste  by  this  grave  was  a  welle. 
And,  shortly  of  this  tale  for  to  telle, 
This  covenant  was  afiermed  wonder  faste; 
And  longe  hem  thoughte  that  the  Sonne 

laste,  791 

That  hit  nere  goon  under  the  see  adoun. 

This  risbe  hath  so  greet  affeccioun 
And  so  greet  lyking  Piramus  to  see, 
That,   whan   she  seigh  her  tyme  mighte 

be,  795 

At  night  she  stal  awey  ful  prively 
With  her  face  y-wimpled  subtilly; 


For  alle  her  frendes  —  for  to  save  her 

trouthe  — 
She  hath  for-sake;    alias!     and    that    is 

routhe 
That  ever  woman  wolde  be  so  trewe  800 
To    trusten   man,   but    she   the    bet    him 

knewe ! 
And  to  the  tree  she  goth  a  ful  good  pas, 
For  love  made  her  so  hardy  in  this  cas; 
And   by  the  welle  adoun   she   gan   her 

dresse. 
Alias  !   than  comth  a  wilde  leonesse    805 
Out  of  the  wode,  withouten  more  areste. 
With   blody  mouthe,  of  strangling  of  a 

beste, 
To  drinken  of  the  welle,  ther  as  she  sat; 
And,  whan  that  Tisbe  had  espyed  that. 
She  rist  her  up,  with  a  ful  drery  herte,  810 
And  in  a  cave  with  dredful  foot  she  sterte, 
For  by  the  mone  she  seigh  hit  wel  with- 

alle. 
And,  as   she    ran,  her  wimpel   leet   she 

falle, 
And   took   noon   heed,  so  sore   she  was 

a-whaped. 
And  eek  so  glad  of  that  she  was  escaped ; 
And   thus  she   sit,  and    darketh  wonder 

stille.  816 

Whan  that  this  leonesse  hath  dronke  her 

fiUe, 
Aboute  the  welle  gan  she  for  to  winde, 
And   right    anoon   the  wimpel    gan    she 

finde, 
And  with    her   blody  mouth  hit  al   to- 

rente.  820 

Whan  this  was  doon,  no  lenger  she  ne 

stente, 
But  to  the  wode  her  wey  than  hath  she 

nome. 
And,  at  the  laste,  this  Piramus  is  come. 
But  al  to  longe,  alias !   at  hoom  was  he. 
The  mone  shoon,  men  mighte  wel  y-see, 
And  in  his  weye,  as  that  he  com  ful  faste, 
His  eyen  to  the  grounde  adoun  he  caste. 
And  in  the  sonde,  as  he  beheld  adoun, 
He  seigh  the  steppes  brode  of  a  leoun, 
And  in  his  herte  he  sodeinly  agroos,  830 
And  pale  he  wex,  therwith  his  heer  aroos, 
And  neer  he  com,  and  fond  the  wimpel 

torn. 
'  Alias  ! '    quod  he,  '  the  day  that  I  was 

born  ! 
This  o  night  wol  us  lovers  bothe  slee  ! 


835-903] 


THE   LEGEND   OF  TIIIS15K   OF   IJABYLON. 


4»3 


How  sholde  I  axen  mercy  of  Tisbe  835 
Whan    I    am    he    that    have    yow   slain, 

alias ! 
My  bidding  hath  yow  slain,  as  in  this  cas. 
Alias !   to  bidde  a  woman  goon  by  nighte 
In  place  ther  as  peril  fallen  mighte, 
And  1  so  slow  !   alias,  I  ne  hadtle  be  S40 
Here  in  this  place  a  furlong-wey  or  ye ! 
Now  what  leoun  that  be  in  this  foreste, 
My  body  mote  he  renden,  or  what  beste 
That  wilde  is,  gnawen  mote  he  now  myn 

herte !  ' 
And  with  that  worde  he  to  the  wimpel 

sterte,  S45 

And  kiste  hit  ofte,  and  weep  on  hit  ful 

sore, 
And  seide,  '  wimpel,  alias !    ther  nis  no 

more 
But  thou  shall  fele  as  wel  the  blood  of 

me 
As  thou  hast  felt  the  bleding  of  Tisbe  !  ' 
And  with  that  werde  he  smoot  him  to  the 

herte.  850 

The  blood  out  of  the  wounde  as  brode 

sterte 
As  water,  whan  the  conduit  broken  is. 
Now  Tisbe,  which  that  wiste  nat  of 

this, 
But  sitting  in    her    drede,   she    thoghte 

thus, 
'  If  hit  so  falle  that  my  Piramus  855 

Be  comen  hider,  and  may  me  nat  y-fmde, 
He  may  me  holden  fals  and  eek  unkinde.' 
And  out  she  comth,  and  after  him  gan 

espyen 
Bothe  with  her  herte  and  with  her  yen, 
And  thoghte,  '  I  wol  him  tellen  of   my 

drede  860 

Bothe  of  the  leonesse  and  al  my  dede.' 
And  at  the  laste  her  love  than  hath  she 

founde 
Beting  with  his  heles  on  the  grounde, 
Al    blody,    and    therwith-al    a-bak   she 

sterte, 
And   lyke   the   wawes  quappe  gan   her 

herte,  865 

And  pale  as  box  she  wex,  and  in  a  throwe 
Avysed  her,  and  gan  him  wel  to  knovve. 
That  hit  was  Piramus,  her  herte  den-. 
Who  could  wryte  whiche  a  deedly  cherc 
Ilath  Tisbe  now,  and  how  her  heer  she 

rente,  870 

And  how  she  gan  her-selve  to  turmente. 


And  how  she  lyth  and  swowneth  on  the 

grounde, 
And    how    she    weep    of    teres  ful    his 

wounde, 
Mow  medeleth  she    his    blood  with  her 

compleynte. 
And  with  his  blood  her-selven  gan  she 

peynte;  875 

How  clippeth  she  the  dede  cors,  alias? 
How  doth  this  woful  Tisbe  in  this  cas ! 
How    kisseth   she   his   frosty   mouth    so 

cold ! 
'  Who  hath  doon  this,  and  who  hath  been 

so  bold 
To   sleen  my  leef?     O   spek,  my  Pira- 
mus !  880 
I  am  thy  Tisbe,  that  thee  calleth  thus ! ' 
And  therwith-al  she  liftclh  up  his  heed. 
This   woful    man,  that   was  nat   fully 

deed. 
Whan  that  he  herde  the  name  of  Tisbe 

cryen. 
On  her  he  caste  his  hevy  deedly  yen  885 
And    doun   again,  and   yeldeth    up   the 

gost. 
Tisbe  rist  up,  withouten  noise  or  host, 
And  seigh   her  wimpel,  and  his  empty 

shethe, 
And  eek  his  swerd,  that  him  hath  doon 

to  dethe; 
Than  spak  she  thus :  '  My  woful  hand,' 

quod  she,  890 

'  Is  strong  y-nogh  in  swiche  a  werk  to 

me; 
For   love   shal    yive   me   strengthe   and 

hardinesse 
To  make    my   wounde    large   y-nogh,  I 

gesse. 
I  wol  thee  folwen  deed,  and  I  wol  be 
Felawe   and    cause  eek    of    thy   deeth,' 

quod  she.  895 

'  And  thogh  that  nothing  save  the  deeth 

only 
Mighte  thee  fro  me  departe  trewely, 
Thou  shalt   no    more    departe   now    fro 

me 
Than    fro  the  deeth,  for  I  wol  go  with 

thee! 
'  And  now,  ye  wrecched  lelous  fadres 

oure,  900 

We,  that  weren  whylom  children  youre, 
We  prayen  yow,  withouten  more  envye, 
That  in  o  grave  y-fere  we  moten  lye, 


414 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD   WOMEN. 


[904-977. 


Sin  love  halh  brought  us  to  this  pitous 

ende ! 
And  rightvvis  god  to  every  lover  sende, 
That  loveth  trewely,  more  prusperitee  906 
Than  ever  hadde  Piramus  and  Tisbe  ! 
And  lat  no  gentil  woman  her  assure 
To  putten  her  in  swiche  an  aventure. 
But  god  forliede  but  a  woman  can      910 
Been  as  trewe  and  loving  as  a  man  ! 
And,  for  my  part,  I  shal  anoon  it  kythe  !  ' 
And,  with  that  worde,  his  swerd  she  took 

as  swythe, 


That  warm  was  of  her  loves  blood  and 
hoot,  914 

And  to  the  herte  she  her-selven  smoot. 
And  thus  ar  Tisbe  and  Piramus  ago. 
Of  trewe  men  I  tinde  but  fewe  mo 
In  alle  my  bokes,  save  this  Piramus, 
And  therfor  have  I  spoken  of  him  thus. 
For  hit  is  deyntee  to  us  men  to  linde  920 
A  man   that   can   in    love   be   trew   and 

kinde. 
Heer  may  ye  seen,  what  lover  so  he  be, 
A  woman  dar  and  can  as  well  as  he. 


Explicit  legenda    Tesbe. 


III.  THE  LEGEND  OF  DIDO,  QUEEN  OF  CARTHAGE. 


iNCiriT    Legenda    Didonis    martiris, 
Cartaginis  regine. 

Glory  and  honour,  Virgil  Mantuan, 
Be  to  thy  name  !  and  I  shal,  as  I  can,  925 
Folow  thy  lantern,  as  thou  gost  biforn. 
How  Eneas  to  Dido  was  forsworn. 
In  thyn  Eneid  and  Naso  wol  I  take 
The  tenour,  and  the  grete  effectes  make. 
Whan  Troye   broght  was  to  destruc- 

cioun  930 

By  Grekes  sleighte,  and  namely  by  Si- 
noun, 
Feyning  the  hors  y-offred  to  Minerve, 
Through  which  that  many  aTroyan  moste 

slerve; 
And    Ector   had,    after    his    deeth,    ap- 

pered, 
And  fyr  so  wood,  it  mighte  nat  be  stered. 
In  al  the  noble  tour  of  Ilioun,  936 

That   of  the  citee  was  the   cheef  dun- 

geoun; 
And  al  the  contree  was  so  lowe  y-broght, 
And    Priamus    the    king    fordoon    and 

noght; 
And  Eneas  was  charged  by  Venus       940 
To  fleen  awey,  he  took  Ascanius, 
That  was  his  sone,  in  his  right  hand,  and 

fledde; 
And  on  his  bakke  he  bar  and  with  him 

ledde 
His  olde  fader,  cleped  Anchises,  944 

And  by  the  weye  his  wyf  Crcusa  he  lees. 
And  mochel  sorwe  hadde  lie  in  his  minde 
Er  that  he  coude  his  felavvshippe  iinde. 


But,   at   the   laste,   whan   he    had    hem 

founde, 
He  made  him  redy  in  a  certein  stounde, 
And   to  the  see  ful   faste   he   gan   him 

hye  950 

And  saileth  forth  with  al  his  companye 
Toward  Itaile,  as  wolde  destinee. 
But  of  his  aventures  in  the  see 
Nis  nat  to  purpos  for  to  speke  of  here. 
For  hit  acordeth  nat  to  my  matere.     955 
But,  as  I  seide,  of  him  and  of  Dido 
Shal  be  my  tale,  til  that  I  have  do. 

So  longe  he  sailed  in  the  salte  see 
Til  in  Libye  unnethe  aryved  he. 
With    shippes  seven  and  with  no   more 

navye;  960 

And  glad  was  he  to  londe  for  to  hye, 
So  was  he  with  the  tempest  al  to-shake. 
And  whan  that  he  the  haven  had  y-take, 
He  had  a  knight,  was  called  Achates; 
And  him  of  al  his  felawshippe  he  chees 
To  goon  with  him,  the  contre  for  tespye; 
He  took  with  him  no  more  companye. 
But  forth  they  goon,  and  lafte  his  shippes 

ryde,  968 

His  fere  and  he,  with-outen  any  gyde. 
So  longe  he  walketh  in  this  v.ildernesse 
Til  at  the  laste,  he  mette  an  hunteresse. 
A  bowe  in  honde  and  arwes  hadde  she, 
Her  clothes  cutted  were  unto  the  knee; 
But  she  was  yit  the  fairest  creature 
That  ever  was  y-formed  liy  nature;      975 
And  Eneas  and  Achates  she  grette, 
And  thus   she   to   hem    spak,  whan   she 

hem  mette. 


1291-1365-] 


THE   I.Er.F.ND   OF    DIDO. 


415 


'  Sawe  ye,'  quod  she,  '  as  ye  han  walked 

wyde, 
Any  of  my  sustren  walke  yow  hesyde, 
With  any  wilde  boor  or  other  beste     980 
That  they  han  hunted  to,  in  this  foreste, 
Y-tukUed  up,  with  arwes  in  her  cas?' 

•  Nay,  soothly,  lady,'  iiuod  this  Kneas; 
•  But  by  thy  beaute,  as  hit  thinketh  nic. 
Thou    mightest    never  erthely   womman 

be,  9^5 

But  rhebus  suster  artow,  as  I  gesse. 
And,  if  so  be  that  thou  be  a  goiUlesse, 
Have  mercy  on  our  labour  and  our  wo.' 
'  I  nam  no  goddes,  soothly,'  quod  she 

tho; 
'  For    maidens    walken    in  this    contree 

here,  990 

With    arwes    and    with    bowe,  in    this 

manere. 
This  is  the  regne  of  Libie,  ther  ye  been. 
Of  which  that  Uido  lady  is  and  queen  '  — 
And  shortly  told  him  al  the  occasioun 
Why  Dido  com  into  that  regioun,        995 
Of  which  as  now  me  lusteth  nat  to  ryme; 
Hit    nedeth   nat;    hit   nere   but    los    of 

tyme. 
For  this  is  al  and  som,  it  was  Venus, 
His   owne  moder,  that  spak  with    him 

thus; 
And  to  Cartage  she  bad  he  sholde  him 

dighte,  1000 

And  vanished  anoon  out  of  his  sighte. 
I  coude  folwe,  word  for  word,  Virgyle, 
But  it  wolde  lasten  al  to  longe  a  whyle. 
This  noble    queen,    that    cleped    was 

Dido, 
That  whylom  was  the  wyf  of  Sitheo,  1005 
That  fairer  was  then  is  the  brighte  sonne. 
This    noble   toun  of  Cartage   hath    be- 

gonne; 
In  which  she  regneth  in  so  greet  honour. 
That  she  was  holde  of  alio  quenes  flour, 
Of  gentilesse,  of  freedom,  of  beautee; 
That  wel  was  him  that  niighte  her  ones 

see;  loii 

Of  kinges  and  of  lordes  so  desyred, 
That    al    the   world    her   beaute   hadde 

y-fyred ; 
She  stood  so  wel  in  every  wightes  grace. 
Whan    Eneas  was    come    un-to    that 

place,  1015 

Unto  the  maister-temple  ofal  the  toun 
Ther  Dido  was  in  her  devocioun, 


Ful  prively  his  wey  than  hath  he  nome. 
Whan  he  was  in  the  large  temple  come, 
I  can  nat  scyn  if  that  hit  be  possible,  I020 
But  Venus  hadde  him  maked  invisible  — 
Thus    seith   the    book,    with-outen  any 

lees. 
And  whan  this  Eneas  and  Achates 
Hadden  in  this  temple  been  over-al. 
Than  founde  they,  depeynted  on  a  wal. 
How  Troye   and  al   the  lond  destroyed 
was.  1026 

'Alias!  that  I  was  burn,'  (juod  Eneas, 
'Through-out  the  world  our  shame  is  kid 

so  wyde. 
Now  it  is  peynted  upon  every  syde ! 
We,  that  weren  in  prosperitee,  1030 

Be    now     disslaundred,    and    in    swich 

degre. 
No  lenger  for  to  liven  I  ne  kepe !  ' 
And,  w  ith  that  worde,  he  brast  out  for  to 

wepe 
So  tend  rely,  that  routhe  hit  was  to  sene 
This  fresshe  lady,  of  the  citee  quene,  1035 
Stood  in  the  temple,  in  her  estat  royal. 
So  richly,  and  eek  so  fair  with-al. 
So  yong,  so  lusty,  with  her  eyen  glade, 
That,  if  that  god,  that  heven  and  erthe 

made, 
Wolde  han  a  love,  for  beaute  and  good- 

nesse,  1040 

And  womanhod,  and  trouthe,  and  seem- 

linesse, 
Whom  sholde  he    loven   but   this   lady 

swete? 
There  nis  no  womman  to   him  half  so 

mete. 
Fortune,  that  hath  the  world  in  gov- 

ernaunce. 
Hath    sodeinly    broght    in    so    newe    a ' 

chaunce,  1045 

That  never  was  ther  yit  so  fremd  a  cas. 
For  al  the  companye  of  Eneas, 
Which   that  he  wende  han  loren  in  the 

see, 
Aryved  is,  nat  fer  fro  that  citee; 
For  which,  the    grettest   of    his  lordes 

some  1050 

By  aventure  ben  to  the  citee  come. 
Unto  that  same  temple,  for  to  seke 
The    quene,     and    of    her    socour     her 

beseke; 
Swich  renoun  was   ther  spronge   of  her 

gootlnesse. 


4i6 


THE  LEGEND  OF  GOOD   WOMEN. 


[1055-1133. 


And,  whan  they  hadden   told   al  hir  dis- 

tresse,  i°55 

And  al  hir  tempest  and  hir  harde  cas, 
Unto  the  quene  appered  Eneas, 
And  openly  beknew  that  hit  was  he. 
Who  hadde  loye  than  but  his  meynee, 
That  hadden  founde  hir  lord,  hir  gov- 

ernour?  1060 

The  quene  saw  they  dide  him  svvich 

honour. 
And  had  herd  ofte  of  Eneas,  er  tho, 
And  in  her  herte  she  hadde  routhe  and 

wo 
That  ever  swich  a  noble  man  as  he 
Shal  been  disherited  in  swich  degree; 
And  saw   the  man,  that  he  was  lyk  a 

knight,  1066 

And  suffisaunt  of  persone  and  of  might. 
And  lyk  to  been  a  veray  gentil  man; 
And  wel  his  wordes  he  besette  can. 
And  had  a  noble  visage  for  the  nones. 
And    formed    wel    of    braunes    and    of 

bones.  1071 

For,  after  Venus,  hadde  he  swich  fair- 

nesse, 
That  no  man  might  be  half  so  fair,  I 

gesse. 
And  wel  a  lord  he  semed  for  to  be. 
And,  for  he  was  a  straunger,  somwhat 

she  1075 

Lyked  him  the  bet,  as,  god  do  bote, 
To  some  folk  ofte  newe  thing  is  swote. 
Anoon  her  herte  hath  pitee  of  his  wo, 
And,  with  that  pitee,  love  com  in  also; 
And  thus,  for  pitee  and  for  gentilesse, 
Kefresshed   moste   he   been   of    his   dis- 

tresse.  1 08 1 

She  seide,  certes,  that  she  sory  was 
That  he  hath  had  swich  peril  and  swich 

cas; 
And,   in    her    frendly   speche,     in   this 

manere 
She  to  him  spak,  and  seide  as  ye  may 

here.  1085 

'  Be  ye  nat  Venus  sone  and  Anchises? 

In  good  feith,  al  the  worship  and  encrees 

That  I  may  goodly  doon  yow,  ye  shul 

have. 
Your  shippes  and  your  meynee  shal    I 

save;  ' 
And  many  a  gentil  word  she  spak  him 

to;  1090 

And  comaunded  her  messageres  go 


The  same  day,  with-outen  any  faile. 
His  shippes  for  to  seke,  and  hem  vitaile. 
She  many  a  beste  to  the  shippes  sente, 
And    with   the    wyn    she    gan    hem     to 

presente;  1095 

And  to  her  royal  paleys  she  her  spedde, 
And  Eneas  alwey  with  her  she  ledde. 
What  nedeth  yow  the  feste  to  descry ve? 
He  never  beter  at  ese  was  his  lyve. 
Ful    was    the    feste    of     deyntees    and 

richesse,  1 100 

Of  instruments,    of  song,    and    of  glad- 

nesse. 
And  many  an  amorous  loking  and  devys. 

This  Eneas  is  come  to  Paradys 
Out  of  the  swolovv  of  helle,  and  thus  in 

loye  1 104 

Remembreth  him  of  his  estat  in  Troye. 
To  dauncing-chambres  ful  of  parements, 
Of  riche  beddes,  and  of  ornaments. 
This  Eneas  is  lad,  after  the  mete. 
And  with  the  quene  whan  that  he  hadsete. 
And  spyces  parted,  and  the  wyn  agoon, 
Unto  his  chambres  was  he  lad  anoon  1 1 1 1 
To  take  his  ese  and  for  to  have  his  reste, 
With  al  his  folk,  to  doon  what  so  hem 

leste. 
Ther  nas  coursere  wel  y-brydled  noon, 
Ne  stede,  for  the  lusting  wel  to  goon, 
Ne  large  palfrey,  esy  for  the  nones,    1 1 16 
Ne  luwel,  fretted  ful  of  riche  stones, 
Ne  sakkes  ful  of  gold,  of  large  wighte, 
Ne  ruby  noon,  that  shynede  by  nighte, 
Ne  gentil  hautein  faucon  heronere,    1120 
Ne    hound,  for   hert   or   wilde    boor  or 

dere, 
Ne   coupe   of    gold,    with    florins   newe 

y-bete, 
That  in  the  lond  of  Libie  may  be  gete, 
That  Dido  ne  hath  hit  Eneas  y-sent; 
And   al    is   payed,   what    that    he   hath 

spent.  1 125 

Thus  can  this  [noble]  quene  her  gestes 

calle. 
As  she  that  can  in  freedom  passen  alle. 

Eneas  sothly  eek,  with-outen  lees, 
Hath  sent  un-to  his  shippe,  by  Achates, 
After  his  sone,  and  after  riche  thinges. 
Both    ceptre,  clothes,  broches,  and    eek 

ringes,  1131 

Som  for  to  were,  and  som  for  to  presente 
To  her,  that  all  thise  noble  thinges  him 

sente; 


II34-I2I4] 


THE  LEGEND   OF   DIDO. 


417 


And  bad  his  sone,  how  that  he  sholde 

make 
The    presenting,  and    to    the    quene   hit 

take.  1 135 

Repaired  is  this  .\chates  again, 
And  Eneas  ful  bHsful  is  and  fain 
To  seen  his  yonge  sone  Ascanius. 
ISut  natheles,  our  autour  telleth  us, 
That  Cupido,  that  is  the  god  of  love,  1 140 
At  preyere  of  his  nioder,  hye  above, 
Hadde  the  lyknes  of  the  child  y-take, 
This  noble  quene  enamoured  to  make 
On  Eneas;   but,  as  of  that  scripture, 
lie  as  be  may,  I  make  of  hit  no  cure.  1 145 
But  sooth   is   this,  the   quene  hath  mad 

swich  chere 
Un-to  this  child,  that  wonder  is  to  here; 
And  of  the  present  that  his  fader  sente 
She  thanked  him  ful  ofte,  in  good  entente. 
Thus  is  this  quene  in  plesaunce  and  in 

loye,  1 1 50 

With  al  this  newe  lusty  folk  of  Trove. 
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;  1155 
Of  which  ther  gan  to  breden  swich  a  fyr. 
That  sely  Dido  hath  now  swich  desyr 
With  Eneas,  her  newe  gest,  to  dele. 
That  she   hath  lost  her   hewe,  and  eek 

her  hele. 
Now  to  theffect,  now  to  the  fruit  of  al. 
Why  I  have  told   this  story,  and  tellen 

shal.  1 161 

Thus  I  beginne;    hit  fil,  upon  a  night. 

When  that  the  mone  up-reysed  had  her 

light. 
This  noble  quene  un-to  her  reste  wente; 
She  syketli  sore,  and  gan  her-self  tur- 

mente.  1165 

She  waketh,  walvveth,  maketh    many   a 

brayd, 
As  doon  thise  loveres,   as   I   have  herd 

sayd. 
And  at  the  laste,  unto  her  suster  Anne 
She  made  her  moon,  and  right  thus  spak 

she  thanne. 
'  Now,  dere  suster  myn,  what  may  hit 

be  1 1 70 

That  me  agasteth  in  my  dreme?'  (juod 

she. 
'This  ilke  Troyan  is  so  in  my  thoght, 

2E 


For    that    me    thinketh    he    is    so   wel 

y-wroght. 
And  eek  so  lykly  for  to  i)e  a  man,      1174 
And  therwithal  so  mikel  good  he  can. 
That  al  my  love  and  lyf  lyth  in  his  cure. 
Have  ye  not  herd  him  telle  hisaventure? 
Now  certcs,  Anne,  if  that  ye  rede  hit  me, 
I  wolde  fain  to  him  y-wedded  be; 
This   is   theffect;    what   sholde    I    more 

seye?  11 80 

In  him  lyth  al,  to  do  me  live  or  deye.' 
Her  suster  Anne,  as  she  that  coude 

her  good, 
Seide  as   her  thoughte,   and   somdel  hit 

with-stood. 
But  her-of  was  so  long  a  sermoning. 
Hit  were  to  long  to  make  rehersing;   1 185 
But  fynally,  hit  may  not  been  with-stonde; 
Love  wol   love — for  no  wight  wol   hit 

wonde. 
The  dawening  up-rist  out  of  the  see; 
This  amorous  quene  chargeth  her  meynee 
The  nettes  dresse,  and  speres  brode  and 

kene;  11 90 

An  hunting  wol  this  lusty  fresshe  quene; 
So  priketh  her  this  newe  loly  wo. 
To  hors  is  al  her  lusty  folk  y-go; 
Un-to    the    court    the    houndes    been   y- 

broght,  1 194 

And  up-on  coursers,  swift  as  any  thoght, 
Her  yonge  knightes  hoven  al  aboute, 
And  of  her  wommen  eek  an  huge  route. 
Up-on  a  thikke  palfrey,  paper-whyt, 
With  sadel  rede,  enbrouded  with  delyt, 
Of  gold  the  barres  up-enbossed  hye,  1200 
Sit  Dido,  al  in  gold  and  perre  vvrye; 
And  she  is  fair,  as  is  the  brighte  morwe, 
That  heleth  seke  folk  of  nightcs  sorwe. 
Up-on  a  courser,  startling  as  the  fyr, 
Men  mighte  turne  him  with  a  litel  wyr. 
Sit  Eneas,  lyk  Phebus  to  devyse;        1206 
So  was  he  fresshe  arayed  in  his  wyse. 
The  fomy  brydel  with  the  bit  of  gold 
Governeth    he,    right    as    him-self    hath 

wold. 
And  forth  this  noble  quene  thus  lat  I 

ryde  1210 

An   hunting,   with    this   Troyan   by  her 

syde. 
The  herd  of  hertes  founden  is  anoon, 
With  '  hey  !   go  bet !   prik  thou  I  lat  goon, 

lat  goon ! 
Why  nil  the  leoun  comen  or  the  bere, 


4iJ 


THE   LEGEND   OF  GOOD   WOMEN. 


[  I  21 5-1 290. 


That  I  mighte  ones  mete  him  with  this 

spare?'  121 5 

Thus  seyn  thise  yonge  folk,  and  up  they 

kille 
These  hertes  wilde,  and  han  hem  at  hir 

wille. 
Among    al    this    to-romblen    gan   the 

heven, 
The  thunder  rored  with  a  grisly  steven; 
Doun  com  the  rain,  with  hail  and  sleet 

so  faste,  1220 

With  hevenes  fyr,  that  hit  so  sore  agaste 
This  noble  quene,  and  also  her  meynee, 
That  ech  of  hem  was  glad  a-wey  to  flee. 
And  shortly,  fro  the  tempest  her  to  save, 
She  fledde  her-self  into  a  litel  cave,  1225 
And  with  her  wente  this  Eneas  al-so; 
I  noot,  with  hem  if  ther  wente  any  mo; 
The  autour  maketh  of  hit  no  mencioun. 
And  heer  began  the  depe  affeccioun 
Betwix   hem    two;     this   was    the   firste 

morwe  1 230 

Of  her  gladnesse,  and  ginning   of  her 

sorwe. 
For  ther  hath  Eneas  y-kneled  so. 
And  told  her  al  his  herte,  and  al  his  wo, 
And  sworn  so  depe,  to  her  to  be  trewe. 
For  wele  or   wo,    and   chaunge   for   no 

newe,  1235 

And  as  a  fals  lover  so  wel  can  pleyne, 
That  sely  Dido  rewed  on  his  peyne, 
And  took  him  for  husband,  [to  been]  his 

wyf 
For  ever-mo,  whyl  that  hem  laste  lyf. 
And  after   this,  whan  that   the    tempest 

stente,  1240 

With  mirth    out   as   they  comen,  hoom 

they  wente. 
The  wikked  fame  up  roos,  and  that 

anon, 
How  Eneas  hath  with  the  quene  y-gon 
In-to  the  cave;    and  demed  as  hem  Hste; 
And  whan  the  king,  that  Yarbas  hight, 

hit  wiste,  1 245 

As  he  that  had  her  loved  ever  his  lyf. 
And  wowed  her,  to  have  her  to  his  wyf, 
Swich  sorwe  as  he  hath  maked,  and  swich 

chere. 
Hit  is  a  routhe  and  pitee  for  to  here. 
But,    as    in    love,    al-day    hit    happeth 

so,  1250 

That  oon  shal  laughen  at  anothers  wo; 
Now  laugheth  Eneas,  and  is  in  loye 


And  more  richesse  than  ever  he  was  in 

Troye. 
O  sely  womman,  ful  of  innocence, 
Ful    of    pitee,    of    trouthe,    and     con- 
science, 1255 
What  maked  yow  to  men  to  trusten  so? 
Have  ye  swich  routhe  upon  hir  feined  wo. 
And  han  swich  olde  ensamples  yow  be- 

forn? 
See  ye  nat  alle,  how  they  been  for-sworn? 
Wher  see  ye  oon,  that  he  ne  hath  laft  his 

leef,  1 260 

Or  been  unkinde,  or  doon  her  som  mis- 

cheef. 
Or  pilled  her,  or  hosted  of  his  dede? 
Ye  may  as  wel  hit  seen,  as  ye  may  rede; 
Tak  heed  now  of  this  grete  gentil-man, 
This    Troyan,   that   so   wel   her    plesen 

can,  1265 

That  feineth  him  so  trewe  and  obeising. 
So  gentil  and  so  privy  of  his  doing, 
And   can   so  wel   doon   alle    his    obei- 

saunces, 
And  waiten  her  at  festes  and  at  daunces, 
And  when  she  goth  to  temple  and  hoom 

ageyn,  1270 

And  fasten  til  he  hath  his  lady  seyn, 
And  bere  in  his  devyses,  for  her  sake, 
Noot  I  nat  what;   and  songes  wolde  he 

make, 
lusten,  and  doon  of  armes  many  thinges, 
Sende     her     lettres,     tokens,     broches, 

ringes —  1275 

Now  herkneth,  how  he  shal  his  lady  serve  ! 
Ther-as  he  was  in  peril  for  to  sterve 
For  hunger,  and  for  mischeef  in  the  see, 
And  desolat,  and  fled  from  his  contree. 
And    al   his   folk   with    tempest    al    to- 
driven,  1280 
She  hath  her  body  and  eek  her  reame 

yiven 
In-to  his  bond,  ther-as  she  mighte  have 

been 
Of  other  lond  than  of  Cartage  a  queen. 
And  lived  in  loye  y-nogh;   what  wolde 

ye  more?  1284 

This  Eneas,  that  hath  so  depe  y-swore, 
Is  wery  of  his  craft  with-in  a  throwe; 
The  bote  ernest  is  al  over-blowe. 
And  prively  he  doth  his  shippes  dighte. 
And    shapeth    him    to    stele    a-wey    by 

nighte. 
This  Dido  hath  suspecioun  of  this,  1 290 


1291-1365.] 


THE   LEGEND   OF   DIDO. 


410 


An>i  tli(iui,'liU;  wcl,  tliat  bit  was  al  a-niis; 

l'"ur   in    liis   l)t.•^l^lc    he   lyth   a-night    ami 
syketh; 

Slie  asketh    him    aimoii,  what  liim  inis- 
lyketh  — 

'  My  clcre  herte,  which  that  I  love  most?' 

'  Certes,'  quod  he, '  this  night  my  failres 

gost  1295 

Hath  in  mv  sleeji  so  sore  me  tormented, 

And  cek  Mercuric  his  message  hath  pre- 
sented, 

That  nedes  to  the  conquest  of  Itaile 

My  destinec  is  sone  for  to  saile; 

l'"or  which,  me  thinketh,  hrosten  is  myn 
herte!'  1300 

Tlicr-wilh  his  lalse  teres  out  theysterte; 
lis  armes  two. 
quod  she;    '  wil  ye 


*.  ,  Tlicr-wilh  his  false  teres  o 
Y  '  And  taketh  her  wUh-in  hi 
r     [f  'Is  that  in  ernest,'  quo 


Have  ye  nat  sworn  to  wyve  me  to  take, 
Alas !     what    womman    wil    ye    of    me 

make?  I 305 

I  am  a  gentil-woinan  and  a  queen, 
Ye  wil  nat  fro  your  wyf  thus  foule  fleen? 
That  I  was  born  !   alias  I   what  shal  I  do?  ' 
To  telle  in  short,  this  noble  queen  Dido, 
She  seketh  halwes,  and  doth  sacrifyse; 
She    kneleth,  cryeth,  that    routhe    is    to 

devyse;  1311 

Coniureth  him,  and  profrcth  him  to  he 
His  thral,  his  servant  in  the  leste  gree; 
She  falleth  him    to    fote,  and  swowneth 

there 
Dischevcle,  with  her  brighte  gilte  here, 
And  seith, '  have  mercy  !  let  me  with  yow 

ryde!  1316 

Thise  lordes,  which  that  wonen  me  hesyde 
Wil  me  destroyen  only  for  your  sake. 
And,  so  ye  wil  me  now  to  wyve  take, 
As  ye  han  sworn,  than  wol  I  yive  yow 

leve  1320 

To  sleen  me  with  your  swerd  now  sone 

at  eve  ! 
For  than  yit  shal  I  dyen  as  your  wyf. 
I  am  with  childe,  and  yive  my  child  his 

lyf. 
Mercy,  lord  !   have  j)ite  in  your  thoght  1  ' 
But    al    this    thing    availeth    her    right 

noght;  1325 

Vox  on  a  night,  slcpingc,  he  let  her  lye. 
And  stal  a-wey  un-to  his  companye, 
And,  as  a  traitour,  forth  he  gan  to  saile 
Towar<l  the  large  contree  of  Itaile.     1329 


Thus  hath  he  lafl  Dido  in  wo  and  pyne; 
And  wedded  ther  a  lady  hight  Lavyne. 
A  cloth   he   lafte,  and   eek   his  swerd 

stonding. 
Whan  he  fro  Dido  stal  in  her  sleping. 
Right  at   her  beddes  heed,  so   gan    he 

hye  1334 

Whan  that  he  stal  a-wey  to  his  navye; 
Which  cloth,  whan  sely  Dido  gan  awake. 
She  hath  hit  kist  ful  ofle  for  his  sake; 
And   scide,   '()   cloth,  whyl    lupiter   hit 

leste, 
Tak  now  my  soule,  unbintl   me   of   this 

unreste  ! 
I  have  fullild  of  fortune  al  the  cours.'    1340 
And  thus,  alias!  wilh-outen  his  socours. 
Twenty  tyme  y-swowned  hath  she  thanne. 
And,   whan    that    she    un-to    her    suster 

Anne 
Compleyned    had,   of  wdiich    I   may  nat 

wryte  — 
So  greet   a  routhe   I   have  hit   for  ten- 

dyte—  1345 

And  l>ad  her  norice  and  her  suster  goon 
To  fecchen  fyr  and  other  thing  anoon. 
And  seide,  that  she  wolde  sacrifye. 
And,   wdian    she    mighte    her    tyme    vvel 

e3p)'e, 
Up-on  the  fyr  of  sacrifys  she  sterte,   1350 
And  with  his  swerd  she  roof  her  to  the 

herte. 
But,  as   myn   autt)ur  seith,  right   thus 

she  seyde; 
Or  she  was  hurt,  before  that  she  deydc, 
She  wroot  a  lettre  anoon,  that  thus  be- 
gan :  — 
'  Right    so,'    quod    she,    '  as    that    the 

whyte  swan  1355 

Ayeins  his  deeth  beginneth  for  to  singe, 
Right  so  to  yow  make  I  my  compleyn- 

inge. 
Nat  that  I  trowe  to  geten  yow  again. 
For  wel  I  woot  that  it  is  al  in  vain. 
Sin   that   the   goddes   been   contraire   to 

me.  1360 

But  sin   my  name  is  lost   through  yow,' 

([uod  she, 
'  I  niav  wel  lese  a  word  on  yow,  or  letter, 
Al-i)e-it  that  I  shal  be  never  the  better; 
For    thilke    wind    that    blew    your    ship 

a-wey. 
The  same  wind  hath  blowe  a-wey  your 

fey.'—  1365 


420 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD   WOMEN. 


[1366-1433. 


But   who   wol  al   this   letter   have   in 
minde, 


Rede    Ovide,  and   in    him    he    shal    hit 
finde. 


Explicit  Legenda  Didonis  martiris^  Cariaginis  regine. 


IV.    THE   LEGEND    OF   HYPSIPYLE   AND    MEDEA. 


Incipit  Legenda  Ysiphile  et  Medee, 

Martirum. 

Part  I.    The  Legend  of  Hypsipyle. 

Thou  rote  of  false  lovers,  duk  lasoun  ! 
Thou  sly  devourer  and  confusioun 
Of  gentil-wommen,  tender  creatures,  1370 
Thou  madest  thy  reclaiming  and  thy  lures 
To  ladies  of  thy  statly  apparaunce, 
And  of  thy  wordes,  farced  with  plesaunce. 
And  of  thy  feyned  trouthe  and  thy  manere, 
With  thyn  obeisaunce  and   thy  humble 

chere,  '375 

And  with  thy  counterfeted  peyne  and  wo. 
Ther  other  falsen  oon,  thou  falsest  two  ! 
O  !   ofte  swore  thou  that  thou  woldest  dye 
For  love,  whan  thou  ne  feltest  maladye 
Save  foul  delyt,  which  that  thou  callest 

love !  1 380 

If  that  I  live,  thy  name  shal  be  shove 
In    English,   that   thy   sleighte    shal    be 

knowe ! 
Have  at  thee,  lasoun !  now  thyn  horn  is 

blowe ! 
But  certes,  hit  is  bothe  routhe  and  wo 
That  love  with  false  loveres  werketh  so; 
For  they  shul  have  wel  better  love  and 

chere  1386 

Than  he  that  hath  aboght  his  love  ful 

dere, 
Or  had  in  armes  many  a  blody  box. 
P'or  ever  as  tendre  a  capoun  et  the  fox, 
Thogh  he  be  fals  and  hath  the  foul  be- 
trayed, 1390 
As  shal  the  good-man  that  ther-for  hath 

payed. 
Al  have  he  to  the  capoun  skille  and  right, 
The  false  fox  wol  have  his  part  at  night. 
On  lasoun  this  ensample  is  wel  y-sene 
By  Isiphile  and  Medea  the  quene.     1395 

In  Tessalye,  as  Guido  telleth  us, 
Ther  was  a  king  that  highte  Pelleus, 
That  had  a  brother,  which  that   highte 

Eson; 


And,  whan  for  age  he  mighte  unnethes 

gon, 
He  yaf  to  Pelleus  the  governing        1400 
Of  al  his  regne,  and  made  him  lord  and 

king. 
Of  which  Eson  this  lasoun  geten  was. 
That,  in  his  tyme,  in  al  that  lond,  ther 

nas 
Nat  swich  a  famous  knight  of  gentilesse, 
Of  freedom,  and  of  strengthe  and  lusti- 

nesse.  1405 

After  his  fader  deeth,  he  bar  him  so 
That  ther  nas  noon  that  liste  been  his  fo, 
But  dide  him  al  honour  and  companye; 
Of  which  this  Pelleus  hath  greet  envye. 
Imagining  that  lasoun  mighte  be       1410 
Enhaunsed  so,  and  put  in  swich  degree 
With  love  of  lordes  of  his  regioun, 
That    from   his   regne   he   may   be   put 

adoun. 
And  in  his  wit,  a-night,  compassed  he 
How  lasoun  mighte  best  destroyed  be 
Withoute  slaunder  of  his  compasment. 
And  at  the  laste  he  took  avisement   1417 
To  senden  him  in-to  som  fer  contree 
Ther  as  this  lasoun  may  destroyed  be. 
This  was  his  wit;    al  made  he  to  lasoun 
Gret  chere  of  love  and  of  affeccioun,  1421 
For  drede  lest  his  lordes  hit  espyde. 
So  fil  hit  so,  as  fame  renneth  wyde, 
Ther  was  swich  tyding  over-al  and  swich 

los, 
That  in  an  yle  that  called  was  Colcos, 
Beyonde  Troye,  estward  in  the  see,  1426 
That  ther-in  was  a  ram,  that  men  mighte 

see. 
That  had  a  flees  of  gold,  that  shoon  so 

brighte. 
That    no-wher  was  ther  swich    an-other 

sighte; 
But  hit  was  kept  alway  with  a  dragoun, 
And  many  othere  merveils,  up  and  doun. 
And  with  two  boles,  maked  al  of  bras, 
That  spitten  fyr,  and  nioche  thing  tlier 

was.  1433 


I434-I5I8] 


THE   LEGEND    OF   IIVPSIPYLE. 


421 


But  this  was  eek  the  tale,  nathelees, 

That  who-so  wokle  winne  thilke  flees, 
He  nioste  bothe,  or  he  hit  winne  niif^hte. 
With  the  boles  and  the  dragnun  fighte; 
And  king  Oetes  lord  was  of  that  yle. 

This  Pelleus  bcthoghte  upon  this  wyle; 
That    he    his    nevew    lasoun   wolde    en- 

horte  1440 

To  sailen  to  that  lond,  him  to  disporte, 
yVnd  seide,  '  Nevew,  if  hit  mighte  be 
That  swich  a  worship  mighte  fallen  thee, 
That  thou  this   famous   tresor   mightest 

winne,  1444 

And  bringen  hit  my  regioun  with-inne. 
Hit    were    to    me    gret    plesaunce    and 

honour ; 
Than  were  I  holde  to  quyte  thy  labour. 
And  al  the  cost  I  wol  niy-selven  make; 
And  chees  what  folk  that  thou  wilt  with 

thee  take;  1449 

Lat  see  now,  darstow  taken  this  viage?' 
lasoun  was  yong,  and  lusty  of  corage, 
And  under-took  to  doon   this    ilke    em- 
pry  se. 
Anoon  Argus  his  shippes  gan  devyse; 
With  lasoun  wente  the  stronge  Ercules, 
And   many  an-other   that   he  with    him 

chees.  1455 

But  who-so  axeth  who  is  with  him  gon, 
Lat  him  go  reden  Argonauticon, 
For  he  wol  telle  a  tale  long  y-now. 
Philotetes  anoon  the  sail  up-drow, 
Whan  that  the  wind  was  good,  and  gan 

him  hye  1460 

Out  of  his  contree  called  Tessalye. 
So  long  he  sailed  in  the  salte  see 
Til  in  the  yle  Lemnoun  aryved  he  — 
Al  be  this  nat  rehersed  of  C'.uido, 
Yet  seith  Ovyde  in  his  Epistles  so —  1465 
And  of  this  yle  lady  was  and  quene 
The  faire  yonge  Isiphilee,  the  shene. 
That   whylom   Thoas   doghter  was,  the 

king. 
Isiphilee  was  goon  in  her  playing; 
And,  roming  on  the  clyves  by  the  see, 
Under  a  banke  anoon  espyed  she       1471 
Wher  that  the  ship  of  lasoun  gan  aryve. 
Of    her   goodnesse    adoun    she    sendeth 

blyve 
To  witen  yif  that  any  straunge  wight 
With    tempest    thider    were    y-blowe    a- 

night,  1475 

To  doon  him  socour;    as  was  her  usaunce 


To     forthren    every    wight,    and     doon 

plesaunce 
Of  veray  bountee  and  of  curtesye. 

This  messagere  adoun  him  gan  to  hye, 
And  fond  lasoun,  and  Ercules  also,  1480 
That  in  a  cogge  to  londe  were  y-go 
Hem  to  refresshen  and  to  take  the  eyr. 
The  morwening  atempre  was  and  fair; 
And    in    his    wey  the    messagere    hem 

mette.  1484 

Ful  cunningly  thise  lordes  two  he  grette. 
And  dide  his  message,  axing  hem  anoon 
Yif  they  were  broken,  or  oght  wo  begoon. 
Or  hadde  nede  of  lodesmen  or  vitaile; 
For  of  socour  they  shulde  no-thing  faile. 
For  hit  was  utterly  the  quenes  wille.  1490 

lasoun  answerde,  mekely  and  stille, 
'  My  lady,'  quod  he,  '  thanke  I  hertely 
Of  her  goodnesse;    us  nedeth,  trewely. 
No-thing  as  now,  but  that  we  wery  be, 
And  come  for  to  pleye,  out  of  the  see,  1495 
Til  that  the  wind  be  better  in  our  weye.' 
This  lady  rometh  by  the  clif  to  pleye, 
With  her  meynee,  endelong  the  stronde, 
Andfynt  thisLisoun  and  this  other  stonde, 
In   spekinge   of    this    thing,   as    I   yow 

tolde.  1500 

This  Ercules  and  lasoun  gan  beholde 
How  that  the  quene  hit  was,  and  faire 

her  grette 
Anon-right  as  they  with  this  lady  mette; 
And  she   took  heed,  and   knew,  by  hir 

manere, 
By  hir  aray,  by  wordes  and  by  chere,  1505 
That     hit    were    gentil-men,    of    greet 

degree. 
And  to  the  castel  with  her  ledeth  she 
Thise  straunge  folk,  and  doth  hem  greet 

honour, 
And  axeth  hem  of  travail  and  labour 
That    they    han    sufired     in    the     salte 

see;  1510 

So  that,  within  a  day,  or  two,  or  three, 
She  knew,  by  folk  that  in  his  shippes  be. 
That  hit  was  lasoun,  ful  of  renomee. 
And  Ercules,  that  had  the  grete  los. 
That    soghten    the    aventures    of    Col- 
cos;  1515 
And  dide  hem  honour  more  then  before, 
And   with    hem   deled   ever   lenger   the 

more, 
For   they  ben   worthy    folk,   with-outen 

lees. 


422 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD   WOMEN. 


[1519-1592. 


And  namely,   must   she  spak    with    Er- 

cules; 
To  him  her  herte  bar,  he  sholde  be  1520 
Sad,  wys,  and  trewe,  of  wordes  avisee, 
With-outcn  any  other  affeccioun 
Of  love,  or  evil  imaginacioun. 

This    Ercules    hath    so    this     lasoun 

preysed. 
That   to    the    sonne   he    hath   him    up 

areysed,  1525 

That  half  so  trewe  a  man  ther  nas  of 

love 
Under  the  cope  of  heven  that  is  above; 
And   he    was   wys,    hardy,   secree,   and 

riche.  — 
Of  thise  three  pointes  ther  nas  noon  him 

liche; 
Of  freedom  passed  he,  and  lustihede, 
Alle  tho  that  liven  or  ben  dede;         1 53 1 
Ther-to  so  greet  a  gentil-man  was  he, 
And  of  Tessalie  lykly  king  to  be. 
Ther  nas  no  lak,  but  that  he  was  agast 
To  love,  and  for  to  speke  shamefast.  1535 
He  hadde  lever  him-self  to  mordre,  and 

dye 
Than   that    men    shulde    a    lover    him 

espye :  — 
'  As  wolde  almighty  god  that  I  had  yive 
My  blood  and   flesh,  so  that   I   mighte 

live, 
With  the  nones  that  he  hadde  o-wher  a 

wyf  1540 

For  his  estat ;    for  swich  a  lusty  lyf 
She  sholde  lede  with  this  lusty  knight !  ' 
And    al    this  was  compassed   on    the 

night 
Betwixe  him  lasoun  and  this  Ercules. 
Of  thise  two  heer  was  mad  a  shrewed 

lees  _  1545 

To  come  to  hous  upon  an  innocent; 
For  to  be-dote  this  queen  was  hir  assent. 
And  lasoun  is  as  coy  as  is  a  maide. 
He  loketh  pitously,  but  noght  he  saide. 
But  frely  yaf  he  to  her  conseileres     1550 
Yiftes  grete,  and  to  her  officeres. 
As  wolde  god  I  leiser  hadde,  and  tyme. 
By  proces  al  his  wowing  for  to  ryme. 
But  in  this  hous  if  any  fals  lover  be. 
Right    as    him-self   now    doth,    right    so 

dide  he,  1555 

With  feyning  and  with  every  sotil  dede. 
Ye  gete  no  more  of  me,  but  ye  wil  rede 
Thoriginal,  that  telleth  al  the  cas. 


The  somme  is  this,  that  lasoun  wedded 

was 
Unto  this  quene,  and  took  of  her  sub- 

staunce  1560 

What-so    him    liste,    unto    his    purvey- 

aunce; 
And  upon  her  begat  he  children  two. 
And  drow  his  sail,  and  saw  her  never- 

mo. 
A  lettre  sente  she  to  him  certein. 
Which  were  to  long  to  wryten  and  to 

sein,  1565 

And    him    repreveth    of  his   grete    un- 

trouthe, 
And  preyeth  him  on  her  to  have  som 

routhe. 
And  of  his  children  two,  she  seide  him 

this, 
That  they  be  lyke,  of  alle  thing,  y-wis. 
To    lasoun,    save    they  coude    nat    be- 

gyle;  1570 

And   preyed    god,   or    hit    were    longe 

whyle. 
That  she,  that  had  his  herte  y-raft  her 

fro, 
Moste  finden  him  to  her  untrewe  al-so, 
And  that   she  moste  bothe  her  children 

spille, 
And    alle    tho    that     suffreth    him    his 

wille.  1575 

And  trew  to  lasoun  was  she  al  her  lyf. 
And   ever   kepte  her   chast,  as    for   his 

wyf; 
Ne  never  had  she  loye  at  her  herte. 
But  dyed,  for  his  love,  of  sorwes  smerte. 

Part  H.    The  Legend  of  Medea. 

To  Colcos  comen  is  this  duk  lasoun, 
That  is  of  love  devourer  and  dragoun. 
As  matere  appetyteth  forme  al-wey. 
And  from  forme  in-to  forme  hit  passen 
may,  1583 

Or  as  a  welle  that  were  botomlees. 
Right  so  can  fals  lasoun  have  no  pees. 
For,  to  desyren,  through  his  appetyt. 
To     doon     with     gentil     wommen     his 

delyt. 
This  is  his  lust  and  his  felicitee. 

lasoun  is  romed  forth  to  the  citee. 
That  whylom  cleped  was  laconitos,  1590 
That  \vas  the  maistcr-toun  of  al  Colcos, 
And  hath  y-told  the  cause  of  his  coming 


I593-I662.] 


THE   LEGEND   OF   MEDEA. 


423 


Un-to  Oetes,  of  that  centre  king, 
Preying   him   that    he    moste   doon   his 

assay 
To   gete   the    flees   of  gold,  if  that   he 

may;  .1595 

Of  which  the  king  assenteth  to  his  bone. 
And  doth  him  honour,  as  liit  is  to  done, 
So  ferforth,  that  his  doghter  and  his  eyr, 
Medea,  which  that  was  so  wys  and  fair 
Tliat    fairer   saw    ther   never   man    with 

ye,  1 600 

He  made  her  doon  to  lasoun  companye 
At  mete,  and  sitte  by  him  in  the  halle. 
Now  was  lasoun  a  semely  man  with- 

alle, 
And  lyk  a  lord,  and  had  a  greet  renoun. 
And  of  his  loke  as  real  as  leoun,        1605 
And  goodly  of  his  speche,  and  famulere, 
And  coude  of  love  al  craft  and  art  plen- 

ere 
With-oute    boke,    with    everich    obser- 

vaunce. 
And,  as  fortune   her  oghte  a  foul  mes- 

chaunce. 
She  wex  enamoured  upon  this  man.  1610 
'  lasoun,'  quod  she, '  for  ought  I  see  or 

can. 
As  of  this  thing  the  which  ye  been  aboute, 
Ye  han  your-self  y-put  in  nioche  doute. 
For,  who-so  wol  this  aventure  acheve, 
He  may  nat  wel  asterten,  as  I  leve,  1615 
With-outen  deeth,  but  I  his  helpe  be. 
But  natheles,  hit  is  my  wille,'  quod  she, 
'  To    forthren  yow,  so  that  ye  shal  nat 

dye. 
But   turnen,  sound,  hoom  to   your  Tes- 

salye.' 
'  My  righte  lady,'  quod    this    lasoun 

tho,  1620 

'  That  ye  han  of  my  dethe  or  of  my  wo 
Any  reward,  and  doon  me  tiiis  honour, 
I  wot  wel  tliat  my  might  ne  my  labour 
May  nat  deserve  hit  in  my  lyves  day; 
God    thanke    yow,    ther    I    ne    can   ne 

may.  1625 

Your  man  am  I,  and  lowly  you  beseche. 
To     been     my    help,     with-oute     more 

speche; 
But    certes,    for    my   deeth   shal    I    nat 

spare.' 
Tho  gan  this  Medea  to  him  declare 
The    peril    of    this    cas,    fro    point    to 

point,  1630 


And  of  his  batail,  and  in  what  disioint 
He  mote  stande,  of  which  no  creature. 
Save  iJiily  she,  ne  mighte  his  lyf  assure. 
And  shortly,  to    the  point    right    for    to 

go, 
They    been    accorded    ful,   bctwix    hem 

two,  1635 

That    lasoun  shal    her  wedde,  as  trewe 

knight; 
And  term  y-set,  to  come  sone  at  night 
Unto  her  chambre,  and    mak&  ther  his 

ooth. 
Upon  the  goddes,  that  he,  for    leef  ne 

looth, 
Ne  sholde  her   never    falsen,    night    ne 

day,  1 640 

To   been   her   husbond,   whyl    he   liven 

may. 
As  she  that   from  his  deeth  him  saved 

here. 
And     her-upon,    at    night    they    mette 

y-fere. 
And  doth  his  ooth,  and    goth  with  her 

to  bedde. 
And   on    the    morwe,    upward    he   him 

spedde;  1645 

For  she  hath  taught  him  how   he   shal 

nat  faile 
The   flees    to   winne,    and    stinten    his 

bataile; 
And  saved  him  his  lyf  and  his  honour; 
And  gat  him  greet  name  as  a  conquer- 

our 
Right    through    the    sleight   of  her  en- 

chantement.  1650 

Now  hath  lasoun  the  flees,  and  hoom 

is  went 
With  Medea,  and  tresor  ful  gret  woon. 
But  unwist  of  her  fader  is  she  goon 
To  Tessaly,  with  duk  lasoun  her  leef, 
That  afterward  hath  broght  her  to  mes- 

cheef.  1655 

For  as  a  traitour  he  is  from  her  go. 
And  with  her  lafte   his   yonge   children 

two, 
And  falsly  hath  betrayed  her,  alias ! 
And  ever    in    love   a   cheef  traitour   he 

was ; 
And     wedded     yit     the     thridde     wyf 

anon,  1660 

That  was  the  doghter  of  the  king  Creon. 
This  is  the  meed  of  loving  and  guer- 
don 


424 


THE   LEGEND   OF  GOOD   WOMEN. 


[1663- 1 7 24. 


That  Medea  received  of  lasoun 

Right  for  her  trouthe  and  for  her  kinde- 

nesse, 
That  loved   him  better  than   her-self,  I 

gesse,  1665 

And  lafte  her  fader  and  her  heritage. 
And  of  lasoun  this  is  the  vassalage, 
That,   in    his   dayes,    nas   ther   noon   y- 

founde 
So  fals  a  lover  going  on  the  grounde. 
And     therfor    in    her    lettre    thus    she 

seyde  1670 

First,  whan  she  of  his  falsnesse  him  um- 

breyde, 

Explicit  Legenda  Ysiph 


'  Why  lyked  me  thy  yelow  heer  to  see 
More    then    the    boundes   of  myn  hon- 

estee. 
Why  lyked  me  thy  youthe  and  thy  fair- 

nesse, 
And  of  thy  tonge   the   infmit   gracious- 

nesse?  '675 

O,  haddest  thou  in  thy   conquest   deed 

y-be, 
Ful  mikel  untrouthe  had  ther  dyed  with 

thee !  ' 
Wei  can  Ovyde  her  lettre  in  vers  endyte, 
Which  were  as  now  to  long  for  me  to 

wryte. 
He  et  Medee,  Martirum. 


V.    THE   LEGEND   OF  LUCRETIA. 


Incipit  Legenda  Lucrecie  Rome,  mar- 

TIRIS. 

Now  moot  I  seyn  the  exiling  of  kinges 

Of  Rome,  for  hir  horrible  doinges,     1681 

And  of  the  laste  king  Tarquinius, 

As  saith  Ovyde  and  Titus  Livius. 

But  for  that  cause  telle  I  nat  this  storie, 

But  for  to  preise  and   drawen  to  mem- 

orie  1685 

The  verray   wyf,  the   verray   trewe    Lu- 

cresse, 
That,  for  her  wyfhood  and  her  stedfast- 

nesse, 
Nat  only  that  thise  payens  her  comende, 
But  he,  that  cleped  is  in  our  legende 
The  grete   Austin,  hath   greet    compas- 

sioun  1 690 

Of  this    Lucresse,   that    starf  at    Rome 

toun; 
And  in  what  wyse,    I    wol   but   shortly 

trete. 
And  of  this  thing  I  touche  but  the  grete. 

Whan  Ardea  Ijeseged  was  aboute 
With  Romains,  that  ful  slerne  were  and 

stoute,  1695 

Ful  longe  lay  the  sege,  and  litel  wroghte, 
So    that    they  were    half    ydel,    as   hem 

thoghte; 
And  in  his  pley  Tarquinius  the  yonge 
Gan    for   to    iape,  for   he   was   light   of 

tonge, 
And  seyde,  that '  it  was  an  ydel  lyf ;  1 700 


No  man  did  ther  no  more  than  his  wyf; 
And  lat  us  speke  of  wyves,  that  is  best; 
Praise  every  man  his  owne,  as  him  lest, 
And  with    our    speche    lat   us    ese    our 

herte.' 
A   knight,   that   highte   Colatyne,    up 

sterte,  1705 

And  seyde  thus,  '  nay,  for  hit  is  no  nede 
To  trowen  on  the  word,  but  on  the  dede. 
I  have  a  wyf,'  quod  he, '  that,  as  I  trowe, 
Is  holden  good    of  alle   that    ever   her 

knowe; 
Go  we  to-night  to  Rome,  and  we  shul 

see.'  1710 

Tarquinius answerde,  'that  lyketh  me.' 

To  Rome  be  they  come,  and  faste  hem 

dighte 
To    Colatynes    hous,    and     doun     they 

lighte, 
Tarquinius,  and  eek  this  Colatyne. 
The  husbond  knew  the    estres  wel    and 

fyne,  171 5 

And  prively  into  the  hous  they  goon; 
Nor  at  the  gate  porter  was  ther  noon; 
And  at  the  chanibre-dore  they  abyde. 
This  noble  wyf  sat  by  her  beddes  syde 
Dischevele,     for     no     malice     she      ne 

thoghte;  1 720 

And  softe  woUe  our  book  seith  that  she 

wroghte 
To  kepen  her  fro  slouthe  and  ydelnesse; 
And  bad  her  servants  doon  hir  businessc. 
And  axeth  hem,  '  what  tydings  heren  ye? 


1725-1793-] 


THE   LEGEND   OF    lAKRlTIA. 


425 


How  seith  men  of  the  sege,  how  shal 

hit  be?  1725 

God  wolde  the  walles  weren  falle  adoun ; 
Myn    husbond    is   so    longe  out  of  this 

toun, 
For  which  the  dreed  doth    me  so    sore 

smerte, 
Right    as  a  swerd   hit  stingeth  to   myn 

herte 
Whan   I  think    on    the  sege  or  of  that 

place;  1730 

God  save  my  lord,  I  preye  him  for  his 

grace  :  '  — 
And  ther-with-al  ful  tenderly  she  weep. 
And  of  her  werk  she  took  no  more  keep. 
But  mekely  she  leet  her  eyen  falle  ; 
And  thilke  semblant   sat  her  wel  with- 

alle.  1735 

And  eek  her  teres,  ful  of  honestee, 
Embelisshed  her  wyfly  chastitee; 
Her  couutenaunce  is  to  her  herte  digne. 
For  they  acordeden  in  dede  and  signe. 
And      with      that    word     her     husbond 

Colatyn,  1740 

Or  she  of  him  was  war,  com  sterting  in. 
And  seide,  '  dreed  thee  noght,  for  1  am 

here ! ' 
And    she    anoon  up   roos,   with    blisful 

chere, 
And    kiste    him,  as    of    wyves    is    the 

wone. 
Tarquinius,  this  proude  kinges  sone, 
Conceived    hath   her    beautee    and    her 

chere,  1746 

Her  yelow  heer,  her  shap,  and  her  man- 

ere, 
Her  hew,  her  wordes  that  she  hath  com- 

pleyned. 
And  by  no   crafte  her  beautee  nas  nat 

feyned ; 
And    caughte    to   this    lady   swich    de- 

syr,  1750 

That  in  his  herte  brende  as  any  fyr 
So  woodly,  that  his  wit  was  al  forgcten. 
For  wcl,  thoghte  he,  she  sholde  nat  be 

geten; 
And  ay  the  more  that  he  was  in  dispair. 
The  more  he  coveteth  and  thoghte  her 

fair.  1755 

His  blindc  lust  was  al  his  covetinge. 
A-morwe,    whan    the    brid    began    to 

singe, 
Unto  the  sege  he  comth  ful  privily. 


And  by  himself  he  walketh  sobrely, 
Thimage  of  her  recording  alwey  newe; 
'Thus  lay  her  heer,  and  thus  fresh  was 

her  he  we;  1 761 

Thus  sat,  thus  spak,  thus  span;   this  was 

her  chere. 
Thus  fair  she  was,  and  this  was  her  man- 

ere.' 
Al    this   conceit  his  herte   hath   now  y- 

take. 
And,   as   the   see,   with    tempest   al    to- 

shake,  1765 

That,  after  whan  the  storm  is  al  ago. 
Yet  wol  the  water  quappe  a  day  or  two, 
Right  so,  thogh  that  her  furme  wer  ai)- 

sent. 
The  plesaunce  of  her  forme  was  present; 
But  natheles,  nat  plesaunce,  but  delyt. 
Or  an  unrightful  talent  with  despyt;    1771 
'  F^or,  maugre   her,  she  shal  my  lemman 

be; 
Hap  helpeth  hardy  man  alday,'  (|uod  he; 
'  What  ende    that  I  make,  hit  shall  be 

so;  ' 
And  girt  him  with  his  swerde,  and  gan 

to  go;  1775 

And  forth  he  rit  til  he  to  Rome  is  come. 
And  al  aloon  his  wey  than  hath  he  nome 
Unto  the  house  of  Colatyn  ful  right. 
Doun  was  the  sonne,  and  day  hath  lost 

his  light; 
And  in  he  com  un-to  a  privy  halke,  1780 
And   in    the   night   ful    theefly   gan    he 

stalke. 
Whan    every    night    was    to    his    reste 

broght, 
Ne    no   wight    had    of   tresoun    swich   a 

thoght. 
Were  hit  by  window  or  by  other  gin. 
With  swerde  y-drawe,  shortly  he  cointh 

in  17S5 

Ther  as  she  lay,  this  noble  wyf  Lucressc 
And,    as    she    wook,  her    bed    she    felte 

presse. 
'  What    beste    is    that,'    quod    she,  '  that 

weyeth  thus?' 
'  1  am  the  kinges  sone,  Tarquinius,' 
Quod   he,  '  but  and  thou  crye,  or  noise 

make,  1790 

Or  if  thou  any  creature  awake. 
By  thilke  god  that  formed  man  on  lyve, 
This  swerd  through-out  thyn  herte  shal  I 

ryve.' 


426 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


[1794-1866. 


And  ther-vvithal  unto  her  throte  he  sterte, 
And  sette  the  point  al  sharp  upon  her 

herte.  1795 

No  word  she  spak,  she  hath  no  might 

therto. 
What  shal  she  sayn?  her  wit  is  al  ago. 
Right  as  a  wolf  that  fynt  a  lomb  aloon, 
To  whom  shal  she  compleyne,  or  make 

moon? 
What !   shal   she   fighte   with   an   hardy 

knight?  1800 

Wei    wot    men  that  a  woman  hath   no 

might. 
What  I  shal  she  crye,  or  how  shal  she 

asterte 
That  hath  her  by  the  throte,  with  swerde 

at  herte? 
She  axeth  grace,  and  seith  al  that  she 

can. 
•  Ne  wolt  thou  nat,'  quod  he,  this  cruel 

man,  1 805 

'  As  wisly  lupiter  my  soule  save. 
As  I  shal  in  the  stable  slee  thy  knave. 
And  leye  him  in  thy  bed,  and  loude  crye, 
That  I  thee  finde  in  suche  avouterye; 
And  thus  thou  shalt  be  deed,  and  also 

lese  1810 

Thy  name,    for    thou    shalt    non    other 

chese.' 
Thise   Remain  wyves  loveden    so  hir 

name 
At   thilke    tyme,    and    dredden   so  the 

shame. 
That,  what  for  fere  of  slaundre  and  drede 

of  deeth, 
She  loste  bothe  at-ones  wit  and  breeth, 
And  in  a  swough  she  lay  and  wex  so 

deed,  1816 

Men  mighte  smyten  of  her  arm  or  heed; 
She  feleth  no-thing,  neither  foul  ne  fair. 

Tarquinius,  that  art  a  kinges  eyr. 
And    sholdest,    as    by    linage    and    by 

right,  1820 

Doon  as  a  lord  and  as  a  verray  knight, 
Why  hastow  doon  dispyt  to  chivalrye? 
Why  hastow  doon  this  lady  vilanye? 
Alias  !  of  thee  this  was  a  vileins  dede  ! 
But    now    to   purpos;    in   the   story   I 

rede,  1825 

Whan  he  was  goon,  al   this  mischaunce 

is  falle. 
This  lady  sente  after  her  frendes  alle, 
Tader,  moder,  husbond,  al  y-fere; 


And  al  dischevele,  with  her  heres  clere, 
In  habit  swich  as  women  used  tho     1830 
Unto  the  burying  of  her  frendes  go, 
•She  sit  in  halle  with  a  sorweful  sighte. 
Her  frendes  axen  what  her  aylen  mighte. 
And   who   was    deed?     And   she  sit  ay 

wepinge, 
A  word  for  shame  ne  may  she  forth  out- 

bringe,  1835 

Ne  upon  hem  she  dorste  nat  beholde. 
But  alte  laste  of  Tarquiny  she  hem  tolde, 
This  rueful  cas,  and  al  this  thing  hor- 
rible. 
The  wo  to  tellen  hit  were  impossible. 
That   she    and    alle   her    frendes    made 

atones.  1840 

Al  hadde  folkes  hertes  been  of  stones, 
Hit  mighte  have  maked  hem  upon  her 

rewe, 
Her  herte  was  so  wyfly  and  so  trewe. 
She  seide,  that,  for  her  gilt  ne  for  her 

blame, 
Her  husbond  sholde  nat  have  the  foule 

name,  1845 

That  wolde  she  nat  suffre,  by  no  wey. 
And  they  answerden  alle,  upon  hir  fey, 
That  they  foryeve  hit  her,  for  hit  was 

right; 
Hit  was  no  gilt,  hit  lay  nat  in  her  might; 
And  seiden  her  ensamples  many  oon. 
But   al  for  noght ;    for   thus   she   seide 

anoon,  1851 

'  Be  as  be  may,'  quod  she,  '  of  forgiving, 
I  wol  nat  have  no  forgift  for  no-thing.' 
But  prively  she  caughte  forth  a  knyf, 
And  thervvith-al   she   rafte   her-self  her 

lyf;  1855 

And  as  she  fel  adoun,  she  caste  her  look, 
And  of  her  clothes  yit  she  hede  took; 
For  in  her  falling  yit  she  hadde  care 
Lest  that  her  feet  or  swiche  thing  lay 

bare; 
So   wel   she   loved    clennesse   and    eek 

trouthe.  i860 

Of  her  had  al  the  toun  of  Rome  routhe, 

And  Brutus  by  her  chaste    blode    hath 

swore 
That  Tarquin  sholde  y-banisht  be  ther- 

fore. 
And  al  his  kin;   and  let  the  peple  calle. 
And     openly    the    tale    he    tolde    hem 

alle,  1865 

And  openly  let  carie  her  on  a  bere 


1867-1931-] 


THE   LEGEND   OF  ARIADNE. 


427 


Through  al  the  toun,  that  men  may  see 

and  here 
The  horrible  deed  of  her  oppressioun. 
Ne  never  was  ther  king  in  Rome  toun 
Sin    thilke    day;    and   she    was    holden 

there  1S70 

A  seint,  and  ever  her  day  y-halwed  dcre 
As   in  hir  lawe :    and  thus  endeth   Lu- 

cresse, 
The  noble  wyf,  as  Titus  bereth  witnesse. 
I  tell  hit,  for  she  was  of  love  so  trewe, 
Ne   in    her  wille  she  chaunged    for  no 

newe.  1875 

And  for  the  stable  herte,  sad  and  kinde, 


That   in   these    women   men  may  al<lay 

finde; 
Ther  as  they  caste   hir   herte,    thcr   hit 

dwellcth. 
For    wel    I    wot,    that    Crist    him-sclve 

telleth, 
That  in  Israel,  as  wyd  as  is  the  lond. 
That  so  gret    feith  in  al   the   lond  he  ne 

fond  1 88 1 

As  in  a  woman;   and  this  is  no  lye. 
And  as  of  men,  lokctli  which  tirannye 
They  doon   alday;    assay   hem   who   so 

liste, 
The  trewest  is  ful  brotel  for  to  triste.  1881; 


Explicit  Legcnda  Lucrecie  Rome,  Martiris. 


VI.    THE   LEGEND   OF   ARIADNE. 


Incipit  Legenda  Adriane  de  Athenes. 

luGE  infernal,  Minos,  of  Crete  king. 
Now  Cometh  thy  lot,  now  comestow  on 

the  ring; 
Nat  for  thy  sake  only  wryte  I  this  storie. 
But  for  to  clepe  agein  unto  memorie 
Of  Theseus  the  grete  untrouthe  of  love; 
For   which    the    goddes   of    the   heven 

above  1891 

Ben  wrothe,  and  wreche  han  take  for  thy 

sinne. 
Be   reed   for  shame !  now  I  thy  lyf  be- 

ginne. 
Minos,  that  was  the   mighty  king  of 

Crete, 
That  hadde  an  hundred  citees    stronge 

and  grete,  1895 

To  scole  hath  sent  his  sone  Androgeus, 
To  Athenes;   of  the  whiche  hit  happed 

thus. 
That  he  was  slayn,  Icrning  philosophye. 
Right  in  that  citee,  nat  but  for  envye. 
The    grete    Minos,    of    the    whiche    I 

speke,  1900 

His  sones  deeth  is  comen  for  to  wreke  ; 
Alcathoe  he  bisegeth  harde  and  longe. 
But  natheles  the  walles  be  so  stronge. 
And  Nisus,  that  was  king  of  that  citee, 
So  chivalrous,  that  litel  dredeth  he;  1905 
Of  Minos  or  his  ost  took  he  no  cure, 
Til  on  a  day  befel  an  aventure, 


That  Nisus  doghter  stood  upon  the  wal, 
And  of  the  sege  saw  the  maner  al. 
So  happed  hit,  that,  at  a  scarmishing. 
She   caste    her    herte    upon    Minos   the 

king,  191 1 

For  his  beautee  and  for  his  chivalrye, 
So  sore,  that  she  wende  for  to  dye. 
And,  shortly  of  this  proces  for  to  pace, 
She  made  Minos  winnen  thilke  place. 
So  that  the  citee  was  al  at  his  wille,  1916 
To  saven  whom  him  list,  or  elles  spille; 
But  wikkedly  he  quitte  her  kindenesse, 
And  let  her  drenche   in  sorowe  and  dis- 

tresse, 
Nere  that  the  goddes  hadde  of  her  pite; 
But  that   tale   were  to  long  as  now  for 

me.  1921 

Athenes  wan  this  king  Minos  also, 
And  Alcathoe  and  other  tounes  mo; 
And   this    theffect,   that   Minos   hath  so 

driven 
Hem  of  Athenes,    that   they  mote  him 

yiven  1925 

Fro  yere  to  yere  her  owne  children  dcre 
For  to  be  slayn,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 
This  Minos  hath  a  monstre,  a  wikked 

beste. 
That  was  so  cruel  that,  without  areste. 
Whan    that    a    man    was  broght    in    his 

presence,  '93*-' 

He  wolde  him  ete,  ther  helpeth  no  de- 
fence. 


428 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


[1932-2015. 


And     every     thridde    year,    with-outen 

doute, 
They  casten  lot,  and,  as  hit  com  aboute 
On  riche,   on  pore,  he  nioste  his   sone 

take,  1934 

And  of  his  child  he  nioste  present  make 
Unto  Minos,  to  save  him  or  to  spille, 
Or   lete  his  beste  devoure    him   at   his 

wille. 
And    this    hath    Minos    don,   right    in 

despyt;  1938 

To  wreke  his  sone  was  set  al  his  delyt. 
And  maken  hem  of  Athenes  his  thral 
Fro  yere  to  yere,  whyl  that  he  liven  shal; 
And  hoom  he  saileth  whan  this  toun  is 

wonne. 
This  wikked  custom  is  so  longe  y-ronne 
Til  that  of  Athenes  king  Egeus 
Mot  sende  his  owne  sone,  Theseus,  1945 
Sith  that  the  lot  is  fallen  him  upon. 
To  be  devoured,  for  grace  is  ther  non. 
And  forth  is  lad  this  woful  yonge  knight 
Unto  the  court  of  king  Minos  ful  right. 
And  in  a  prison,  fetered,  cast  is  he    1950 
Til  thilke  tyme  he  sholde  y-freten  be. 

Wei  maystow  wepe,  O  woful  Theseus, 
That  art  a  kinges  sone,  and  dampned 

thus. 
Me  thinketh  this,  that   thou  were  depe 

y-holde 
To  whom  that  saved  thee  fro  cares  colde ! 
And  now,  if  any  woman  helpe  thee,  1956 
Wei  oughtestow  her  servant  for  to  be. 
And  been  her  trewe  lover  yeer  by  yere ! 
But  now  to  come  ageyn  to  my  matere. 
The    tour,   ther    as  this    Theseus    is 

throwe  i960 

Doun  in  the  botom  derke  and  wonder 

lowe. 
Was  ioyning  in  the  walle  to  a  foreyne; 
And    hit   was  longing    to    the   doghtreri 

tweyne 
Of  king    Minos,    that    in    hir  chambres 

grete  ' 
Dwelten    above,    toward     the    maister- 

strete,  1965 

In  mochel  mirthe,  in  loye  and  in  solas. 
Not  I  nat  how,  hit  happed  ther,  per  cas, 
As  Theseus  compleyned  him  by  nighte, 
The  kinges  doghter,  Adrian  that  highte, 
And  eek  her  suster  Phedra,  herden  al 
His  compleyning,  as  they  stode  on  the 

wal  1971 


And  lokeden  upon  the  brighte  mone; 
Hem  leste  nat  to  go  to  bedde  sone. 
And  of  his  wo  they  had  compassioun; 
A  kinges  sone  to  ben  in  swich  prisoun 
And    be  devoured,   thoughte    hem   gret 

pitee.  1976 

Than  Adrian  spak  to  her  suster  free, 
And  seyde, '  Phedra,  leve  suster  dere, 
This  woful  lordes  sone  may  ye  nat  here, 
How  pitously  compleyneth  he  his  kin. 
And  eek  his  pore  estat  that  he  is  in,  1981 
And  gilteless?  now  certes,  hit  is  routhe ! 
And  if  ye  wol  assenten,  by  my  trouthe. 
He  shal  be  holpen,  how  so  that  we  do !  ' 
Phedra  answerde,  '  y-wis,  me  is  as  wo 
For  him  as  ever  I  was  for  any  man;   1986 
And,  to  his  help,  the  beste  reed  I  can 
Is  that  we  doon  the  gayler  prively 
To  come,  and  speke  with  us  hastily, 
And  doon  this  woful  man  with  him  to 

come.  1990 

For  if  he  may  this  monstre  overcome. 
Than  were   he  quit;   ther  is  noon  other 

bote. 
Lat  us  wel  taste  him  at  his  herte-rote, 
That,  if  so  be  that  he  a  wepen  have, 
Wher  that  he  dar,  his  lyf  to  kepe  and 

save,  1995 

Fighten  with  this  fend,  and  him  defende. 
For,  in  the  prison,  ther  he  shal  descende, 
Ye  wite  wel,  that  the  beste  is  in  a  place 
That  nis  nat  derk,  and  hath  roum  eek 

and  space 
To  welde  an  ax  or  swerd  or  staf  or  knyf, 
So  that,  me  thinketh,  he  sholde  save  his 

lyf;  2001 

If  that  he  be  a  man,  he  shal  do  so. 
And  we  shul  make  him  balles  eek  also 
Of  wexe  and  towe,  that,  whan  he  gapeth 

faste. 
Into  the  bestes  throte  he  shal  hem  caste 
To  slake  his  hunger  and  encombre  his 

teeth;  2006 

And  right  anon,  whan  that  Theseus  seeth 
The  beste  achoked,  he  shal  on  him  lepe 
To  sleen  him,  or  they   comen  more  to- 

hepe. 
This  wepen  shal  the  gayler,  or  that  tyde, 
Ful  privily  within  the  prison  hyde;  201 1 
And,  for  the  hous  is  crinkled  to  and  fro, 
And  hath  so  queinte  weyes  for  to  go  • — 
For  hit  is  shapen  as  the  niase  is  wroght  — 
Therto  have  I  a  remedie  in  my  thoght, 


20I6-2094-] 


THE   LEGEND   OF   ARIADNE. 


429 


That,   by  a  clewe  of  twyne,  as  he  hath 

goon,  2016 

The  same  wey  he  may  returne  anoon, 
Folvving  alwey  the  thrced,  as   he    hath 

come. 
And,  whan  that  he  this  beste  hath  over- 
come, 
Then    may   he    fleen   avvey   out    of    this 

drede,  2020 

And  eek   the  gayler  may  he  with  him 

lede. 
And  him  avaunce  at  hoom  in  his  contree. 
Sin  that  so  greet  a  hordes  sone  is  he. 
This  is  my  reed,  if  that  he  dar  hit  take.' 
What  sholde  I  lenger  sermoun  of  hit 

make?  2025 

The  gayler  cometh,  and  with  him  Theseus. 
And  whan   thise   thinges   been    acorded 

thus, 
Adoun  sit  Theseus  upon  his  knee  :  — 
'The  righte  lady  of  my  lyf,'  quod  he, 
'  I,    sorweful    man,    y-dampned    to    the 

deeth,  2030 

Fro  yow,   why!   that   me  lasteth   lyf  or 

breeth, 
I  wol  nat  twinne,  after  this  aventure. 
But  in  your  servise  thus  I  wol  endure, 
That,  as  a  wrecche  unknowe,  I  wol  yow 

serve 
For  ever-mo,  til  that  myn  herte  sterve. 
Forsake  I  wol  at  hoom  myn  heritage,  2036 
And,  as  I  seide,  ben  of  your  court  a  page. 
If  that  ye  vouche-sauf  that,  in  this  place. 
Ye  graunte  me  to  han  so  gret  a  grace 
That   I   may  han  nat  but  my  mete  and 

drinke;  2040 

And  for  my  sustenance  yit  wol  I  swinke. 
Right    as   yow   list,    that    Minos   ne    no 

wight  — 
Sin   that    he    saw    me    never    with    eyen 

sight  — 
Ne  no  man  elles,  shal  me  conne  espye; 
So  slyly  and  so  wel  I  shal  me  gye,     2045 
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  doon  to  me  this  excellence. 
And  to  my  fader  shal  I  senden  here  2050 
This  worthy  man,  that  is  now  your  gay- 

lere. 
And,  him  to  guerdon,  that  he  shal  wel 

be 


Oon  of  the  grettest  men  of  my  contree. 
And  yif  I  dorste  seyn,  my  lady  bright, 
I  am  a  kinges  sone,  and  eek  a  knight; 
As  wolde  god,  yif  that  hit  niighte  be  2056 
Ve  weren  in  my  contree,  alle  three. 
And  I  with  yow,  to  here  yow  companye, 
Than  shulde  ye  seen  yif  that   I   ther-of 

lye  ! 
And,  if  I  profre  yow  in  low  manere  2060 
To  ben  your  page  and  serven  yow  right 

here. 
But  I  yow  serve  as  lowly  in  that  place, 
I  prey  to  Mars  to  yive  me  swiche  a  grace 
That   shames   deeth   on    me    ther   mote 

falle, 
And  deeth    and   povert    to   my   frendes 

alle ;  2065 

And  that  my  spirit  by  nighte  mote  go 
After  my  deeth,  and  walke  to  and  fro; 
That  1  mote  of  a  traitour  have  a  name, 
P"or  which  my  spirit  go,  to  do  me  shame ! 
And  yif  I  ever  claime  other  degree,  2070 
But-if  ye  vouche-sauf  to  yive  hit  me. 
As  I  have  seid,  of  shames  deeth  I  deye  ! 
And  mercy,  lady  !   I  can  nat  elles  seye  !  ' 

A  seemly  knight  was  Theseus  to  see. 
And   yong,  but   of  a   twenty  yeer   and 

three;  2075 

But   who-so   hadde   y-seyn    his    counte- 

naunce. 
He  wolde  have  wept,  for  routhe  of  his 

penaunce; 
For  which  this  Adriane  in  this  manere 
Answerde  to  his  profre  and  to  his  chere. 
'A   kinges   sone,   and    eek   a  knight,' 

quod  she,  20S0 

'  To  been  my  servant  in  so  low  degree, 
God  shilde  hit,  for  the  shame  of  women 

alle! 
And  leve  me  never  swich  a  cas  befalle ! 
But   sende   yow   grace   and   sleighte   of 

herte  also, 
Yow  to  defende  and  knightly  sleen  your 

fo,  20iS5 

And  leve  herafter  that  I  may  yow  finde 
To  me  and  to  my  suster  here  so  kinde. 
That  I  repente  nat  to  give  yow  lyf! 
Yit  were  hit  better  that  I  were  your  wyf, 
Sin  that  ye  been  as  gentil  born  as  1,  2090 
And  have  a  reaume,  nat  but  faste  l)y. 
Then  that  I  suffred  giltles  yow  to  sterve. 
Or  that  I  let  yow  as  a  page  serve; 
Hit  is  not  profit,  as  unto  your  kinrede; 


43° 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


[2095-2176. 


But  what  is  that  that  man   nil    do  for 

drede  ?  2095 

And  to  my  suster,  sin  that  hit  is  so 
'Ihat  she  mot  goon  with  me,  if  that  I  go, 
Or  elles  suffre  deeth  as  wel  as  I, 
That  ye  unto  your  sone  as  trewely 
Doon    her    be   wedded   at    your   hoom- 

coming.  2100 

■J'liis  is  the  fynal  ende  of  d  this  thing; 
Ve  swere  hit  heer,  on  al  that  may  be 

sworn.' 
'  Ye,    lady  myn,'   quod  he,    '  or   elles 

torn 
Mote  I  be  with  the  Minotaur  to-morwe ! 
And    haveth    her-of   my    herte-blood    to 

borvve,  2105 

Yif  that  ye  wile;    if  I  had  knyf  or  spere, 
I  wolde  hit  leten  out,  and  ther-on  swere, 
For  than  at  erst  I  wot  ye  wil  me  leve. 
By  Mars,  that  is  the  cheef  of  my  bileve, 
So  that  I  mighte  liven  and  nat  faile  21 10 
To-morwe  for  tacheve  my  bataile, 
I  nolde  never  fro  this  place  flee. 
Til  that  ye  shuld  the  verray  preve  see. 
For  now,  if  that  the  sooth  I  shal  yow  say, 
I  have  y-loved  yow  ful  many  a  day,   21 15 
Thogh  ye  ne  wiste  hit  nat,  in  my  contree. 
And  aldermost  desyred  yow  to  see 
Of  any  erthly  living  creature; 
Upon  my  trouthe  I  swere,  and  yow  assure, 
Thise  seven   yeer    I   have   your   servant 

be;  2120 

Now  have  I  yow,  and  also  have  ye  me. 
My  dere  herte,  of  Athenes  duchesse  ! ' 

This  lady  smyleth  at  his  stedfastnesse, 
And  at  his  hertly  wordes,  and  his  chere, 
And  to  her   suster   seide   in   this   man- 

ere,  2125 

Al  softely,  '  now,  suster  myn,'  quod  she, 
'  Now  be  we  duchesses,  bothe  I  and  ye, 
And  sikered  to  the  regals  of  Athenes, 
And  bothe  her-after  lykly  to  be  quenes, 
And    saved    fro    his    deeth     a     kinges 

sone,  2130 

As  ever  of  gentil  women  is  the  wone 
To  save  a  gentil  man,  emforth  hir  might, 
In  honest  cause,  and  namely  in  his  right. 
Me    think eth   no  wight  oghte  her-of  us 

blame, 
Ne  beren  us  ther-for  an  evel  name.'    2135 
And  shortly  of  this  matere  for  to  make, 
This  Theseus  of  her  hath  leve  y-take. 
And  every  point  performed  was  in  dede 


As  ye  have  in  this   covenant    herd   me 

rede. 
His  wepen,  his  clew,  his  thing  that  I  have 

said,  2140 

Was  by  the  gayler  in  the  hous  y-laid 
Ther  as  this  Minotaur  hath  his  dwelling, 
Right  faste  by  the  dore,  at  his  entring. 
And  Theseus  is  lad  unto  his  deeth. 
And     forth     un-to     this     Minotaur     he 

geeth,  2145 

And  by  the  teching  of  this  Adriane 
He  overcom  this  beste,  and  was  his  bane ; 
And  out  he  cometh  by  the  clewe  again 
Ful    prevely,   whan    he    this    beste    hath 

slain;  2149 

And  by  the  gayler  geten  hath  a  barge. 
And  of  his  wyves  tresor  gan  hit  charge. 
And  took  his  wyf,  and    eek    her    suster 

free, 
And  eek  the  gayler,  and  with  hem  alle 

three 
Is  stole  awey  out  of  the  lond  by  nighte, 
And    to    the    contra    of    Ennopye    him 

dighte  2155 

Ther  as  he  had  a  frend  of  his  knowinge. 
Ther  festen  they,  ther  dauncen  they  and 

singe; 
And  in  his  armes  hath  this  Adriane, 
That  of  the  beste  hath  kept  him  from  his 

bane;  2159 

And  gat  him  ther  a  newe  l^arge  anoon. 
And  of  his  contree-folk  a  ful  gret  woon, 
And  taketh  his  leve,  and  hooniward  sail- 

eth  he. 
And  in  an  yle,  amid  the  wilde  see, 
Ther  as  ther  dwelte  creature  noon 
Save   wilde   bestes,  and   that   ful   many 

oon,  2165 

He  made  his  ship  a-londe  for  to  sette; 
And  in  that  yle  half  a  day  he  lette. 
And   seide,  that   on  the  lond  he  moste 

him  reste. 
His    mariners   han    doon   right   as   him 

leste ; 
And,  for  to  tellen  shortly  in  this  cas,    21 70 
Whan  Adriane  his  wyf  a-slepe  was, 
For  that  her  suster  fairer  was  than  she. 
He  taketh  her   in   his   hond,  and  forth 

goth  he 
To  shippe,  and  as  a  traitour  stal  his  way 
Whyl  that  this  Adriane  a-slepe  lay,  2175 
And    to    his    contree-ward    he     saileth 

blyve  — 


2177-2240.] 


THE   LEGEND   OF   PHILOMELA. 


431 


devil 


way 


the    wind     him 


A    twenty 
dryve ! 

And  fond  his  fader  drenched  in  the  see. 
Me    list   no   more   to    speke   of   him, 
parde; 
Thise  false  lovers,  poison  be  hir  bane ! 
But  I  wol  turne  again  to  Adriane       2181 
That  is  witii  sle|)e  for  werinesse  atake. 
¥u\  sorwefuUy  her  herte  may  awake. 
Alias  !   for  thee  my  hertc  hath  now  pite  ! 
Right  in  the  dawening  awaketh  she,  2185 
And    gropeth    in    the    bedde,  and    fond 

right  noght. 
'  Alias ! '    quod    she,    '  that    ever   I    was 

wroght ! 
I  am  l)etrayed ! '  and  her  heer  to-rente, 
And  to  the  stronde  bar-fot  faste  she  wente, 
And  cryed,  '  Theseus  !   myn  herte  swete  ! 
Wher  be  ye,  that  I  may  nat  with   yow 
mete,  2 191 

And  mighte  thus  with  bestes  been  y-slain  ? ' 
The  hohve  rokkes  answerdc  her  again; 
No   man   she   saw,  and  yit  shyned  the 
mone,  2194 

And  hye  upon  a  rokke  she  wente  sone, 
And  saw  his  barge  sailing  in  the  see. 
Cold  wex  her  herte,  and  right  thus  seide 

she. 
'  Meker  than  ye  finde  I  the  bestes  wilde  ! ' 
Iladde  he  nat  sinne,  that  her  thus  be- 

gylde? 
She  cryed, 'O  turne  again,  for  routhe  and 
sinne !  2200 

Thy  barge  hath  nat  al  his  meiny  inne  ! ' 
Her  kerchef  on  a  pole  up  stikked  she, 


Ascaunce  that  he  sholde  hit  wel  y-see, 
And    him    rememi^re   that    she    was    be- 

hinde. 
And  turne  again,  and  on  the  stronde  her 

(inde;  2205 

But  al  for  noght;   his  wey  he  is  y-goon. 
And  doun  she  til  a-swown  u]')on  a  stoon; 
And  up  she  rist,  and  kiste,  in  al  her  care. 
The  steppes  of  his  feet,  ther  he  hath  fare, 
And  to  her  bedde  right  thus  she  speketh 

tho: —  2210 

'  Thou  bed,'  quod  she, '  that  hast  receyved 

two, 
Thou  shalt  answere  of  two,  and  nat  of 

oon  ! 
Wher  is  thy  gretter  part  away  y-goon  ? 
Alias!  wher  shal  I,  wrecched  wight,  be- 
come ! 
For,  thogh  so  be  that  ship  or  boot  heer 

come,  2215 

Hoom  to  my  contree  dar  I  nat  for  drede; 
I  can  my-selven  in  this  cas  nat  rede  ! ' 
What  shal  I  telle  more  her  complein- 

ing? 
Hit  is  so  long,  hit  were  an  hevy  thing. 
In  her  epistle  Naso  telleth  al;  2220 

But  shortly  to  the  ende  1  telle  shal. 
The  godtles  have  her  holpen,  for  pitee; 
And,  in  the  signe  of  Taurus,  men  may  see 
The  stones  of  her  coroun  shyne  clere.  — 
I    wol    no   more   speke   of  this   mat- 

ere ;  2225 

But  thus  this  false  lover  can  begyle 
His  trewe  love.     The  devil  quyte  him  his 

whyle ! 


Explicit  Legenda  Adriane  de  Athenes. 


VII.    THE   LEGEND  OF   PHILOMELA. 


Incipit  Lecenda  Philomexe. 
Deus  dator  forjuartim. 

Thou   yiver    of    the    formes,   that   hast 

wroght 
The   faire   world,  and   bare   hit   in    thy 

thoght 
Eternally,  or  thou  thy  werk  began,     2230 
Why  madest  thou,  unto  the  slaundre  of 

man. 


Or —  al  he  that  hit  was  not  thy  doing, 
As  for  that  fyn  to  make  swich  a  tiling  — 
Why  sufferest  thou  that  Tereus  was  bore, 
That  is  in  love  so  fals  and  so  forswore, 
That,    fro   this   world  up  to    the    tirste 

hevene,  2256 

Corrumpeth,   whan  that    folk   his   name 

nevene? 
And,  as  to  me,  so  grisly  was  his  dede. 
That,  whan  that  I  his  foule  story  rede, 
Myn  eyen  wexen  foule  and  sore  als<j; 


432 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN. 


[2241-2322. 


Yit  last  the  venim  of  so  longe  ago,    2241 
That  hit  enfecteth  him  that  wol  beholde 
The  story  of  Tereus,  of  which  I  tolde. 
Of   Trace    was    he    lord,    and    kin    to 

Marte, 
The   cruel   god    that   stant    with    blody 

darte;  2245 

And  wedded  had  he,  with  a  blisful  chere. 
King  Pandiones  faire  doghter  dere, 
That  highte  Progne,  flour  of  her  contree, 
Thogh  luno  list  nat  at  the  feste  be, 
Ne  Ymeneus,  that  god  of  wedding  is; 
But  at  the  feste  redy  been  y-wis,       2251 
The  furies  three,  with   alle   hir   mortel 

brond. 
The    owle    al   night    aboute   the   balkes 

wond, 
That    prophet   is   of    wo    and    of    mis- 

chaunce. 
This    revel,    ful    of    songe    and    ful    of 

daunce,  2255 

Lasteth  a  fourtenight,  or  litel  lasse. 
But,  shortly  of  this  story  for  to  passe. 
For  I  am  wery  of  him  for  to  telle. 
Five  yeer  his  wyf  and  he  togeder  dwelle, 
Til  on  a  day  she  gan  so  sore  longe    2260 
To   seen    her   suster,  that  she   saw   nat 

longe. 
That  for  desyr  she  niste  what  to  seye. 
But  to  her  husband  gan  she  for  to  preye. 
For  goddes   love,  that  she  moste  ones 

goon 
Her  suster  for  to  seen,  and  come  anoon. 
Or  elles,  but  she  moste  to  her  wende,  2266 
She  preyde  him,  that  he  wolde  after  her 

sende; 
And  this  was,  day  by  day,  al  her  prayere 
With  al  humblesse  of  wyf  hood,  word,  and 

chere.  2269 

This  Tereus  let  make  his  shippes  yare. 
And  into  Grece  him-self  is  forth  y-fare 
Unto  his   fader  in  lawe,  and   gan   him 

preye 
To   vouche-sauf    that,   for   a   month    or 

tweye, 
That  Philomene,  his  wyves  suster,  mighte 
On  Progne    his    wyf    but   ones    have    a 

sighte  —  2275 

'  And  she  shal  come  to  yow  again  anoon. 
Myself  with    her  wol    bothe   come    and 

goon, 
And  as  myn  hertes  lyf  I  wol  her  kepe.' 
This  olde  Pandion,  this  king,  gan  wepe 


For  tendernesse  of  herte,  for  to  leve  2280 
His  doghter  goon,  and  for  to    yive  her 

leve; 
Of  al  this  world  he  lovede  no-thing  so; 
But  at  the  laste  leve  hath  she  to  go. 
For  Philomene,  with  sake  teres  eke, 
Gan  of  her  fader  grace  to  beseke      2285 
To  seen  her  suster,  that  her  longeth  so; 
And  him  embraceth  with  her  armes  two. 
And  therwith-al  so  yong  and  fair  was  she 
That,  whan  that  Tereus  saw  her  beautee. 
And    of  array   that    ther   was   noon   her 

liche,  2290 

And  yit  of  bountee  was  she  two  so  riche. 
He  caste  his  fyry  herte  upon  her  so 
That  he  wol  have  her,  how  so  that  hit  go. 
And  with  his  wyles  kneled  and  so  preyde, 
Til  at  the  laste  Pandion  thus  seyde :  — 
'  Now,  sone,'  quod  he,  '  that  art  to  me 

so  dere,  2296 

I  thee  betake  my  yonge  doghter  here. 
That  bereth  the  key  of  al  my  hertes  lyf. 
And  grete  wel  my  doghter  and  thy  wyf, 
And  yive  her  leve  somtyme  for  to  pleye. 
That  she  may  seen  me  ones  er  I  deye.' 
And  soothly,  he  hath  mad  him  riche  feste. 
And  to  his  folk,  the  moste  and  eek  the 

leste. 
That  with  him  com;   and  yaf  him  yiftes 

grete, 
And  him  conveyeth  through  the  maister- 

strete  2305 

Of  Athenes,  and  to  the  see  him  broghte. 
And   turneth   hoom;     no    malice   he   ne 

thoghte. 
The  ores  puUeth  forth  the  vessel  faste. 
And  into  Trace  arriveth  at  the  laste. 
And  up  into  a  forest  he  her  ledde,     2310 
And  to  a  cave  privily  him  spedde; 
And,  in  this  derke  cave,  yif  her  leste, 
Or  leste  noght,  he  bad  her  for  to  reste; 
Of  whiche  her  herte  agroos,  and  seyde 

thus, 
'  Wher  is  my  suster,  brother  Tereus? ' 
And  therwith-al  she  wepte  tenderly,  2316 
And  quook  for  fere,  pale  and  pitously. 
Right    as  the  lamb  that  of   the  wolf   is 

biten; 
Or  as  the    colver,  that    of    the    egle    is 

smiten. 
And  is  out  of  his  clawes  forth  escaped. 
Yet  hit  is  afered  and  awhaped  2321 

Lest  hit  be  hent  eft-sones,  so  sat  she. 


2323-2393.] 


THE  LEGEND  OF  PHILOMELA. 


433 


But  utterly  liit  may  non  other  be. 

By  force  hath  he,  this  traitour,  doon  that 

dede, 
That  he  hath  reft  her  of  her  maydcn- 
hede,  2325 

Maugree  her  heed,  by  strengthe  and  by 

his  might. 
Lo !    here  a  dede  of  men,  and  that  a 

right ! 
She    crycth    '  suster ! '     with     ful    loude 

stevene. 
And    '  fader   dere  !  '   and   '  help  me,  god 

in  hevene  !  ' 
Al  hclpeth  nat ;  and  yet  this  false  theef 
Hath   doon  this  lady   yet  a  more  mis- 
cheef,  2331 

For  fere  lest  she  sholde  his  shame  crye, 
And  doon  him  openly  a  vilanye. 
And  with  his  swerd  her  long  of  kerveth 

he, 
And  in  a  castel  made  her  for  to  be    2335 
Ful  privily  in  prison  evermore. 
And  kepte  her  to  his  usage  and.  his  store. 
So  that  she  mighte  him  nevermore  asterte. 
O  sely  Philomene  !   wo  thyn  herte ; 
God  vvreke  thee,  and  sende  thee  thy  bone  ! 
Now  is  hit  tyme  I  make  an  ende  sone. 

This  Tereus  is  to  his  wyf  y-come,  2342 
And  in  his  amies  hath  his  wyf  y-nome. 
And    pitously  he  weep,    and  shook   his 

heed. 
And  swor  her  that  he  fond  her  suster 
deed ;  2345 

For  which  this  sely  Progne  hath  swich  wo, 
That  ny  her  sorweful  herte  brak  a-two; 
And  thus  in  teres  lete  I  Progne  dwelle. 
And  of  her  suster  forth  I  wol  yow  telle. 
This  woful  lady  lerned  had  in  youthe 
So  that  she  werken  and  enbrouden 
couthe,  2351 

And  weven  in  her  stole  the  radevore 
As  hit  of  women  hath  be  vvoned  yore. 
And,  shortly  for  to  seyn,  she  hath  her  fille 
Of  mete  and  drink,  and  clothing  at  her 
wille,  2355 

And    coude   eek   rede,  and  wel   y-nogh 

endyte, 
But  with  a  penne  coude  she  nat  wryte; 
But  lettres  can  she  weven  to  and  fro. 
So  that,  by  that  the  yeer  was  al  a-go. 
She  had  y-woven  in  a  stamin  large    2360 

Explicit  Lege 


I  low  she  was  broght  from  yVthenes  in  a 

barge. 
And  in  a  cave  how  that  she  was  broght; 
And    al    the    thing    that    Tereus    hath 

wroght, 
She  waf   hit   wel,  and   wroot    the    story 

above, 
How   she    was    served    for    her    suster 
love;  2365 

And  to  a  knave  a  ring  she  yaf  anoon, 
And  prayed  him,  by  signes,  for  to  goon 
Unto    the    quene,    and    beren    her    that 

clooth. 
And  by  signes  swor  him  many  an  00th, 
She   sholde    him   yeve  what    she  geten 
mighte.  2370 

This  knave  anoon  unto  the  quene  him 
dighte. 
And  took    hit   her,  and    al    the    maner 

tolde. 
And,  whan  that  Progne  hath  this  thing 

beholde. 
No  word  she  spak,  for  sorwe  and  eek  for 

rage; 
But  feyned  her  to  goon  on  pilgrimage 
To    Bachus    temple;      and,    in    a    litel 
stounde,  2376 

Her    dom1)e    suster     sitting     hath    she 

found  e, 
Weping  in  the  castel  her  aloon. 
Alias !    the  wo,  the  compleint,  and  the 

moon 
That    Progne    upon   her    dombe    suster 
maketh !  2380 

In  amies  everich  of  hem  other  taketh, 
And  thus  I  lete  hem  in  hir  sorwe  dwelle. 
The  remenant  is  no  charge  for  to  telle, 
For   this  is  al   and  som,  thus  was  she 

served. 
That  never  harm  a-gilte  ne  deserved  2385 
Unto  this  cruel  man,  that  she  of  wisle. 
Ye   may  be   war  of  men,  yif  that  yow 

liste. 
For,  al  be  that  he  wol  nat,  for  his  shame, 
Doon  so  as  Tereus,  to  lese  his  name, 
Ne  serve  yow  as  a  niordrour  or  a  knave, 
Ful  litel  whyle  shul  ye  trewe  him  have. 
That  wol   I  seyn,   al  were   he   now   my 
brother,  2392 

But  hit  so  be   that   he   may  have   non 
other. 

nda  Philomene. 


2F 


434 


THE   LEGEND   OF  GOOD  WOMEN. 


[2394-2468. 


VIII.    THE    LEGEND   i)V    rHYI.I.lS. 


Incipit  Legenija  I'HU.l.IS. 

By  preve  as  wel  as  by  auctoritec, 

That  wikked  fruit  cumeth  uf  a  wikked 

tree,  2395 

That  may  ye  fiiidc,  if  tl.at  it  lykctli  yow. 
Bui  for  this  oixie  I  spckc  this  as  now, 
'I'l;  tt-lh-  you  of  false  Deiiiophon. 
Ill  love  a  falser  herde  I  never  non, 
But-if  hit  were  his  fader  Theseus.      2400 
'  tJod,  for  his  grace,  fro  swich  oon  kcjie 

us!' 
Thus  may  thise  women  prayen  tliat  hit 

here. 
Now  to  theffect  turne  I  of  my  matere. 

Destroyed  is  of  Troye  the  citec; 
This  DeniojthoM  com  sailing  in  the  see 
'I'oward  Athenes,  to  his  ))aleys  large ;  2406 
With  him  com  many  a  ship  and  many  a 

l)arge 
Ful  of  his  folk,  of  which  ful  many  oon 
Is  woundeil  sore,  and  seek,  anil  wo  be- 

goon. 
And  they  hail  at  the  scge  longe  y-lain. 
Behinde   him   com   a  wind   anel    eek    a 

rain  2411 

That  shoof  so  sore,  his  sail  ne  niighte 

stonde, 
Him  were   lever   than   al    the  world  a- 

londe, 
So  hunteth  him  the  tcm|)est  to  ami  fro. 
So  derk  hit  was,  he  coude  nowher  go; 
And    with    a    wawe    brosten    was     his 

stere.  24 1 6 

His  ship  was  rerit  so  lowe,  in  swich  maii- 

ere. 
That  carpenter  ne  coude  hit  nat  amende. 
The  see,  by  nighte,as  any  tondie  bremle 
I'or  wood,  and  posseth  him  now  up  now 

doun,  2420 

Til  Neptune  hath  of  him  compassioun. 
And   Thetis,   Chorus,   Triton,  and    they 

alle. 
And  maden  him  upon  a  lond  to  fallc, 
Wher-of  that  I'hillis  lady  was  and  quene, 
Ligurgus  iloghter,  fairer  on  to  sene  2425 
Than  is  the  Hour  again  the  briglite  sonne. 
DniKthe  is  Demophon  to  loiide  y-wonn<-, 
Wayk   and    eek   wery,  and  his  folk   for- 

pyne<I 


Of  weriiiesse,  and  also  enfamyned;    2429 
And  to  the  deeth  he  almost  was  y-drivcn. 
His  wyse  folke  to  C(jnseil  han  liiin  yiven 
To  seken  help  and  socour  of  the  <|ueen. 
And  loken  what  his  grace  niighte  i)een, 
y\nd    maken    in    that    lond    som    chevi- 

saunce, 
To    kepeii    him    fro    wo    and    fro    mis- 

chaunce.  2435 

For   seek    was    he,   and    almost   at    the 

deeth; 
Unnethe  mighte  he  sjicke  or  drawe   his 

brceth, 
And  lyth  in  Koilopeya  him  for  to  reste. 
Whan   he  may  walke,  him  thoughtc  hit 

was  the  beste 
Unto  the  court  to  seken  for  socour.  2440 
Men    kiiewe    him    wel,   and    diden    him 

honour; 
l'"or  at  Athenes  duk  and  lor<l  was  he, 
As  Theseus  his  fader  hadde  y-bc, 
That  in  his  tynie  was  of  greet  renoun, 
No  man  so  greet  in  al  his  r<-giouii;    2445 
And  lyk  his  fader  of  face  and  of  stature, 
And  fals  of  love;    hit  com  him  of  nature; 
As  doth  the  fox  kfliard,  the  foxes  sone. 
Of  kiiide  he  coude  his  oldr  faders  wone 
Withoule  lore,  as  can  a  drake  swimine. 
Whan   hit    is  caught  and    caried   to   tlie 

brimme.  2451 

This  honourable  I'hillis  doth  him  clwrc, 
Her  lyketh  wel  his  jiort  and  his  manere. 
But  for  I  am  agrotrd  hecr-biforii 
To  wryle  of  hem  that  been  in  love  for- 
sworn, 2455 
And  eek  to  haste  me  in  my  legcnde, 
Whi(  h  to  performe  god  mt;  grace  sende, 
Therf(jr  I  |)asse  sliorlly  in  this  wyse; 
Ye  han  wel  hi-rd  of  Theseus  devyse 
In  the  betraisiiig  of  fair  Adriane,       2460 
That  of  her  \t\\<-  kc|)ti-  him  from  his  bane. 
Al  sliorlc  wordis,  right  so  Di-niophon 
The  same  wey,  the  saiiK-  path  halli  gon 
That  dicle  his  false  fader  Theseus. 
I'or  unto  I'hillis  hath  he  sworen  thus. 
To     wedden    her,   and     her    his    trouthe 

jilighle,  2466 

And  |)iked  of  her  al  the  goorl  he  mighte, 
Whan  Ik;  was  ho<d  and  sound  and  had'le 

his  reste; 


2469-2544-] 


THE   LEGEND   OF   PHYLLIS. 


43S 


And  dott  with  Phillis  what  so  that  him 

leste. 
•  And  wel  coude  I,  yif  that  me  leste  so, 
1  cUen  al  his  doing  to  and  fro.  2471 

He  seide,  unto  his  contree  moste  he 

saile, 
For  ther  he  wolde  her  wedding  appar- 

aile 
As  fil  to  her  honour  and  his  also. 
And  openly  he  look  his  leve  tho,      2475 
And    hath    her    sworn,    he    wolde    nat 

soiorne, 
But  in  a  month  he  wolde  again  retorne. 
And    in    tliat   lond   let   make  Ms   urdi- 

naunce 
As  verray  lord,  and  took  the  obeisaunce 
Wel   and    hooml}',  and    let   his   shij)pes 

dighte,  2480 

And    hoom   he  goth    the    nexte  wey  he 

mighte ; 
For  unto  Phillis  yit  nc  com  he  noght. 
And   that    hath    she  so  harde  and  sore 

aboght. 
Alias  !  tliat,  as  the  stories  us  recorde, 
She  was   her   owne   deeth  right  n-ith  a 

corde,  2485 

Whan  that  she  saw  that  Demophon  her 

trayed. 
I'.ut   to  him  first  she  wTOot  and  faste 

him  prayed 
He  woldf  come,  and  her  deliver  of  pe)'ne. 
As  ]  relierst  shal  a  word  or  tweyne. 
Mc    list    nat    vouche-sauf    on    him    to 

swinke,  2490 

Ke  spende  on  him  a  penne  ful  of  inke. 
For  falB  in  love  was  he,  right  as  his  syre; 
The  devil  settt  hir  soules  bothe  a-fyre ! 
Lut  of  tlie  lettre  of  Phillis  wol  I  wTyte 
A  word  or  tweyne,  al-thogh  hit  be  but 

lyte.  2495 

'Thyn   hostesse,'  quod   she,  'O    Demo- 

})hon. 
Thy  Pliillis,  which  tiiat  is  so  wo  begon, 
or  Rodopeye,  upon  yow  moot  compleyne, 
Over  tlif  terme  set  betwix  us  tweyne. 
That     ye     ne    holden    forward,    as    ye 

seyde ;  2500 

Your  anker,  which  ye  in  our  haven  leyde, 
Hightf  us,  that  ye  wolde  comen,  out  of 

doute, 
Or  that  the  mone  ones  wente  aboute. 
15ut  tymes  foure  tlit  mone  hath  liid  her 

face  2504 


Sin  thiike  day  ye  wentc  fro  this  place. 
And  foure  tymes  light  tl>e  world  again. 
Hut  for  al  that,  yif  1  shal  soothly  sain, 
Yit  hath  the  streem  of  Sitho  nat  y-broght 
From  Athenes  the  ship;    yit  comth  hit 

noght. 
And,  yif  that  ye  the  terme  rekne  wolde. 
As  I  or  other  trewe  lovers  sholde,      2511 
I  pleyne  not,  god  wot,  beforn  my  day.'  — 

Hut  al  her  lettre  wryten  1  ne  may 
By  ordre,  for  hit  were  to  me  a  charge; 
Her  lettre    was   right   long   and    tiier-to 

large;  25  J  5 

But  here  and  there  in  n'me  1  have  iiit 

laid, 
Ther  as  me  thoughte  tliat  she  wel  hath 

said.  — 
She  seide, '  thy  sailes  comen  nat  again, 
Ne  to  thy  word  ther  nis  no  fey  certein ; 
But   I    wot    why    ye    come    nat,'   cjuod 

she;  2520 

'  For  1  was  of  my  love  to  you  so  free. 
And  of  the  goddes  that  >'e  han  forswore, 
Yif  that  hir  vengeance  falle  on  yow  tlier- 

fore. 
Ye  be  nat  sufFisaunt  to  bere  the  pe^tie. 
To     moche      trusted     1,     wel     may     I 

pleyne,  25^5 

Upon  your  linage  and  ycmr  fairc  tonge, 
And  on  your  teres  falsly  out  y-wronge. 
How  coude  ye  wepe  bo  by  craft?'  quod 

she; 
'  May  ther  swiche  teres  fe^Tied  be? 
Now  certes,  yif  ye  wolde  have  in  mem- 

orie,  2530 

Hit  oghte  be  to  yow  but  lit  el  glorie 
To  have  a  sely  mayde  thus  betrayed  ! 
To  god,'  quod  she,  'preye   1,  and   ofte 

have  }irayed. 
That  hit  be  now  the  grettest  prj's  of  alle. 
And    moste    honour  tliat  evcar  yow  shal 

befalle !  2535 

And  whan  thvn  olde  auncestres  pe^Tited 

be. 
In  which  men  may  hir  worthinesse  see. 
Than,  jireyt  1  god,  thou  jieynted  bt  iilsi;. 
That  folk  may  reden,  for-l>y  as  they  go, 
"  Lo  !  this  is  lie,  that  with  his  flaterye  2540 
Betrayed  hath  and  doon  her  vilanye 
That  was  his  trewe  love  in  thoghte  and 

dede !  " 
But  sothly,  of  00  point  yit  may  they  rede, 
That  ye  lien  lyk  your  fader  as  in  this; 


436 


THE   LEGEND   OF   GOOD   WOMEN. 


[2545-2619. 


For  he  begyled  Adriane,  y-wis,  2545 

With  swiche  an  art  and  swiche  sotelte 
As  thou  thy-selven  hast  begyled  nie. 
As  in  that  point,  al-thogh  hit  be  nat  fayr, 
Thou   folwest  him,  certein,  and   art   his 

eyr. 
But  sin  thus  sinfully  ye  me  begyle,    2550 
My  l)t)dy  mote  ye  seen,  within  a  vvhyle. 
Right  in  the  haven  of  Athenes  fletinge, 
With-outen  sepulture  and  buryinge; 
Thogh  ye  ben  harder  then  is  any  stoon.' 


And,  whan  this  lettre  was   forth    sent 

anoon,  2555 

And  knew  how  brotel  and  how  fals  he 

was, 
She  for  dispeyr  for-dide  herself,  alias ! 
Swich  sorwe  hath  she,  for  she  besette  her 

so. 
Be  war,  ye  women,  of  your  sotil  fo. 
Sin    yit    this    day   men    may    ensample 

see;  2560 

And  trusteth,  as  in  love,  no  man  but  me. 


Explicit  Legenda  Phillis. 


IX.    THE    LEGEND   OF   HYPERMNESTRA. 


Incipit  Legenda  Ypermistre. 

In  Grece  whylom  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.      2565 
Among  his  sones  alle  ther  was  oon 
That  aldermost  he  lovede  of  everichoon. 
And    whan     this    child   was   born,    this 

Danao 
Shoop  him  a  name,  and  called  him  Lino. 
That  other  brother  called  was  Egiste,  2570 
That  was  of  love  as  fals  as  ever  him  liste. 
And  many  a  doghter  gat  he  in  his  lyve; 
Of  which  he  gat  upon  his  righte  wyve 
A  doghter  dere,  and  dide  her  for  to  calle 
Ypermistra,  yongest  of  hem  alle;        2575 
The  whiche  child,  of  her  nativitee. 
To  alle  gode  thewes  born  was  she, 
As  lyked  to  the  goddes,  or  she  was  born, 
That  of  the  shefe  she  sholde  be  the  corn; 
The  Wirdes.thatwe  clepen  Destinee,  2580 
Hath  shapen  her  that  she  mot  nedes  be 
I'itouse,  sadde,  wyse,  and  trewe  as  steel; 
And  to  this  woman  hit  accordeth  weel. 
For,  though   that   Venus   yaf  her  greet 

beautee. 
With  lupiter  compouned  so  was  she   2585 
That    conscience,  trouthe,  and  dreed  of 

shame. 
And  of  her  wyf  hood  for  to  kepe  her  name. 
This,  thoughte  her,  was  felicitee  as  here. 
And  rede   Mars  was,  that  tyme  of  the 

yere, 


So  feble,  that  his  malice  is  him  raft,    2590 
Repressed  hath  Venus  his  cruel  craft ; 
What  with  Venus  and  other  oppressioun 
Of  houses.  Mars  his  venim  is  adoun. 
That  Ypermistra  dar  nat  handle  a  knyf 
In   malice,  thogh    she    sholde   lese   her 

lyf-  2595 

But  natheles,  as  heven  gan  tho  turne, 
To  badde  aspectes  hath  she  of  Saturne, 
That  made  her  for  to  deyen  in  prisoun, 
As  I  shal  after  malce  mencioun. 

To  Danao  and  Egistes  also  —        2600 
Al-thogh  so  be  that  they  were  brethren 

two. 
For  thilke  tyme  nas  spared  no  linage  — 
Hit  lyked  hem  to  maken  mariage 
Betvvix  Ypermistra  and  him  Lino, 
And  casten  swiche  a  day  hit  shal  be  so; 
And  ful  acorded  was  hit  witterly;      2606 
The  array  is  wroght,  the  tyme  is  faste  by. 
And  thus  Lino  hath  of  his  fadres  brother 
The  doghter  wedded,  and  eche  of  hem 

hath  other. 
The  torches  brennen  and  the  lampes 

brighte,  2610 

The  sacrifices  been  ful  redy  dighte; 
Thencens  out  of  the  fyre  reketh  sote, 
The  flour,  the  leef  is  rent  up  by  the  rote 
To  maken  garlands  and  corounes  hye; 
Ful  is  the  place  of  soun  of  minstralcye. 
Of  songes  amorous  of  mariage,  2616 

As  thilke  tyme  was  the  pleyn  usage. 
And  this  was  in  the  paleys  of  Egiste, 
That  in  his  hous  was  lord,  right  as  him 

liste; 


i 


2620-2686.] 


THE   LEGEND   OF   HYPERMNESTRA. 


437 


And    thus    the    day   they    dryven   to    an 

ende ;  2620 

The  frendes  taken  leve,  and  hoom  they 

wenile. 
The  nij;ht  is  come,  the  bryd  shal  go  to 

hedde; 
Egiste  to  his  chamhre  faste  him  spedde, 
And  privily  he  let  his  doghter  calle. 
Whan  tliat  the  hous  was  voided  of  hem 

alio,  2625 

He    loked    on    his    doghter    with    glad 

chcre, 
And  to  her  spak,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 
'  My    righte    doghter,    tresor    of    myn 

herte ! 
Sin   fust   that   day  that  shapen  was  my 

sherte. 
Or  by  the  fatal  sustren  had  my  dom,  2630 
So  ny  myn  herte  never  thing  me  com 
As     thou,     myn     Ypermistra,     doghter 

dere ! 
Tak    heed    what    I    thy    fader   sey   thee 

here, 
And  werk  after  thy  wyser  ever-mo. 
For  alderfirste,  doghter,  I  love  thee  so 
That    al   the    world  to   me    nis   half  so 

leef;  2636 

Ne  I  nolde  rede  thee  to  thy  mischeef 
For  al  the  gode  under  the  colde  mone; 
And  what  I  mene,  hit  shal  be  seid  right 

sone. 
With  protestacioun,  as  in  this  W7se,  2640 
That,  but  thou  do  as  I  shal  thee  devyse. 
Thou  shall  be  deed,  by  him  that  al  hath 

wroght ! 
At  shorte  wordes,  thou  nescapest  noght 
Out  of  my  paleys,  or  that  thou  be  deed. 
But  thou  consente  and  werke  after  my 

reed ;  '       2645 

Tak  this  to  thee  for  ful  conclusioun.' 

This  Ypermistra  caste  her  eyen  doun, 
And  quook    as    dooth    the  leef  of   aspe 

grene; 
Deed  wex  her  hewe,  and  lyk  as  ash  to 

sene. 
And    seyde,   '  lord    and    fader,    al    your 

wille,  2650 

After  my  might,  got  wot,  I  shal  fulfille, 
So  hit  to  me  be  no  confusioun.' 

*  I    nil,'  quod   he,  '  have  noon  excep- 

cioun;  ' 
And  out   he    caughte  a  knyf,  as  rasour 

kene; 


'  Ilyd  this,'  quod  he,  '  that  hit  be  nat  y- 

sene;  2655 

And,  whan    thyn    husbond    is    to  bedde 

y-go. 

Whyl    that    he    slepeth,    cut    his    throte 

a-t\vo. 
For  in  my  dremcs  hit  is  warned  me 
How  that  my  nevew  shal  my  bane  be, 
But    whiche    I    noot,  wherfor    1  wol   be 

siker.  2660 

Yif  thou   sey  nay,  we  two  shul  have  a 

biker 
As   I    have    seyd,   by    him    that    I    have 

sworn.' 
This    Ypermistra    hath     ny    her    wit 

forlorn ; 
And,  for  to  passen  harmles  of  that  place, 
She  graunted  him;   ther  was  non  other 

grace.  2665 

And  therwith-al  a  costrel  taketh  he. 
And  seyde,  '  herof  a  draught,  or  two  or 

three, 
Yif   him    to    drinke,    whan    he    goth    to 

reste. 
And  he  shal  slepe  as  longe  as  ever  thee 

leste. 
The  narcotiks  and  opies  been  so  stronge  : 
And   go  thy   wey,   lest  that   him   thinke 

longe.'  2671 

Out  comth  the  bryd,  and  with  ful  sober 

chere, 
As  is  of  maidens  ofte  the  manere, 
To  chambre  is  broght  with  revel  and  with 

songe, 
And  shortly,  lest  this  tale  be  to  longe. 
This   Lino  and  she  ben  sone  broght  to 

bedde;  2676 

And    every  wight    out  at    the  dore  him 

spedde. 
The    night   is  wasted,  and    he  fel  a- 

slepe; 
Ful  tenderly  beginneth  she  to  wepe. 
She    rist     her    up,    and    dredfully    she 

quaketh,  2680 

As   doth    the    braunche    that    Zephirus 

shaketh, 
And  husht  were  alle  in  Argon  that  citee. 
As  cold  as  any  frost  now  wexeth  she; 
For  pite  by  the  herte  her  streyneth  so. 
And  dreed  of  deeth  duth  her  so  moche 

wo,  2685 

That    thryes   doun  she    fil  in   swiche   a 

were. 


438 


THE  LEGEND   OF   GOOD  WOMEN, 


[2687-2723. 


She  rist  her  up,  and  stakereth  heer  and 

there, 
And  on  her  handes  faste  loketh  she. 
'  Alias  !  and  shul  my  handes  blody  be? 
1  am  a  maid,  and,  as  by  my  nature,  2690 
And  by  my   semblant  and  by  my  ves- 
ture, 
Myn  handes  been  nat  shapen  for  a  knyf. 
As  for  to  reve  no  man  frc  his  lyf. 
What  devil  have  I  with  the  knyf  to  do? 
And  shal  I  have  my  throte  corve  a-two? 
Than    shal    I  blede,  alias !    and  me  be- 
shende;  2696 

And  nedes  cost  this  thing  mot  have  an 

ende; 
Or  he  or  I  mot  nedes  lese  our  lyf. 
Now  certes,'  quod  she,    '  sin    I   am   his 

wyf, 
And  hath  my  feith,  yit  is  it  bet  for  me 
For  to  be  deed  in  wyfly  honestee       2701 
Than  be  a  traitour  living  in  my  shame. 
Be  as  be  may,  for  ernest  or  for  game, 
He  shal  awake,  and  ryse  and  go  his  way 
Out  at  this  goter,  or  that  hit  be  day  ! '  — 
And  weep  ful  tenderly  upon  his  face,  2706 

[  Unfin 


And  in  her  armes  gan  him  to  embrace, 
And  him  she  roggeth  and  awaketh  softe; 
And  at  the  window  leep  he  fro  the  lofte 
Whan  she  hath  warned  him,  and  doon 

him  bote.  2710 

This  Lino  swifte  was,  and  light  of  fote. 
And  from  his  wyf  he  ran  a  ful  good  pas. 
This  sely  woman  is  so  wayk,  alias ! 
And   helples   so,   that,   or   that   she    fer 

wente. 
Her  cruel  fader  dide  her  for  to  hente.  2715 
Alias  !   Lino  !  why  art  thou  so  unkinde? 
Why  ne  haddest  thou  remembred  in  thy 

minde 
To  taken  her,  and  lad  her   forth   with 

thee? 
For,  whan  she  saw  that  goon  awey  was 

he. 
And  that  she  mighte  nat  so  faste  go,  2720 
Ne  folwen  him,  she  sette  her  doun  right 

tho. 
Til    she    was    caught     and    fetered    in 

prisoun. 
This    tale    is    seid    for    this    conclu- 

sioun  .... 

ished.'\ 


A   TREATISE    ON    THE   ASTROLABE. 


PROLOGUS. 

LiTELL  Lowis  my  sone,  I  have  per- 
ceived wel  by  certeyne  evidences  thyn 
abilite  to  lerne  sciencez  touchinge 
noumbres  and  proporciouns;  and  as 
5  wel  considere  1  thy  bisy  preyere  in 
special  to  lerne  the  Tretis  of  the 
Astrolabie.  Than,  for  as  niechel  as 
a  philosofre  seith,  '  he  wrappeth  him 
in  his  frend,  that  condescendeth  to  the 

10  rightful  preyers  of  his  frend,'  ther-for 
have  I  geven  thee  a  suffisaunt  Astrola- 
bie as  for  oure  orizonte,  compowned 
after  the  latitude  of  Oxenford;  up-on 
which,  by  mediacion  of  this  litel  tretis, 

15  I  purpose  to  teche  thee  a  certein 
nombre  of  conclusions  apertening  to 
the  same  instrument.  I  seye  a  cer- 
tein of  conclusiouns,  for  three  causes. 
The  furste  cause  is  this  :    truste  wel 

20  that  alle  the  conclusiouns  that  han 
ben  founde,  or  elles  possibly  mighten 
be  founde  in  so  noble  an  instrument 
as  an  Astrolabie,  ben  un-knowe  per- 
fitly  to  any  mortal  man  in  this  regioun, 

25  as  I  suppose.  A-nother  cause  is  this; 
that  sothly,  in  any  tretis  of  the  As- 
trolabie that  I  have  seyn,  there  ben 
some  conclusions  that  wole  nat  in 
alle  thinges  performen   hir  bihestes  ; 

30  and  some  of  hem  ben  to  harde  to  thy 
tendre  age  of  ten  veer  to  conseyve. 
This  tretis,  divided  in  fyve  parties, 
wole  I  shewe  thee  under  ful  lighte 
rewles  and  naked  wordes  in  English ; 

35  for  Latin  ne  canstow  yit  but  smal, 
my  lyte  sone.  But  natheles,  suffyse 
to  thee  thise  trewe  conclusiouns  in 
English,  as  wel  as  suffyseth  to  thise 


noble  clerkes  Grekes  thise  same  con- 
clusiouns in  Greek,  and  to  Arabiens  40 
in   Arabik,  and  to   lewes  in   Ebrew, 
and  to  the  Latin  folk  in  Latin;  whiche 
Latin  folk  han  hem  furst  out  of  othre 
diverse  langages,   anil   writen    in   hir 
owne  tonge,  that  is  to  sein,  in   Latin.    45 
And  god  wot,  that  in  alle  thise  lan- 
gages, and    in    many  mo,   han   thise 
conclusiouns    ben    suffisantly    lerned 
and  taught,  and  yit  by  diverse  rewles, 
right  as  diverse  pathes  leden  diverse    50 
folk  the  righte  wey  to  Rome.     Now 
wol  I  prey  meekly  every  discret  per- 
sone  that  redeth  or  hereth  this  litel 
tretis,  to  have  my  rewde  endyting  for 
excused,  and  my  superfluite  of  wordes,    55 
for  two  causes.     The   firste  cause  is, 
for  that   curious   endyting   and    hard 
sentence  is  ful  hevy  atones  for  swich 
a  child  to  lerne.     And  the  seconde 
cause  is  this,  that  sothly  me  semeth    60 
betre  to  wryten  un-to  a  child  tvvyes  a 
good   sentence,   than    he    for-gete    it 
ones.     And   Lowis,  yif  so  be    that  I 
shewe  thee  in   my  lighte   English  as 
trewe  conclusiouns  touching  this  mat-    65 
ere,  and  naught  only  as  trewe  but  as 
many  and    as  subtil   conclusiouns  as 
ben  shewed  in  Latin  in  any  commune 
tretis  of  the  Astrolabie,   con  me  the 
more  thank;  and  preye  god  save  the    70 
king,    that    is    lord   of   this    langagc. 
and  alle  that  him    feyth  bereth    and 
oheyeth,  everech  in    his  degree,  the 
more  and   the   lasse.     But  consitlere 
wcl,thatlneusurpenat  to  have  founde    75 
this   werk    of    my   labour   or  of  myi< 
engin.    I  nam  but  a  lewd  compilatour 
of  the    labour    of  oldc   Astrologiens, 


439 


440 


A   TREATISE   ON   THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   I. 


and  have  hit  translated  in  myn  Eng- 
80  Hsh   only   for  thy  doctrine;    and  with 
this  swerd  shal  I  sleen  envye. 

I.  The  firste  partie  of  this  tretis 
shal  reherse  the  figures  and  the  mem- 
bres  of  thyn  Astrolabie,  bi-cause  that 

85  thou  shalt  han  the  grettre  knowing  of 
thyn  owne  instrument. 

II.  The  second  partie  shal  teche 
thee  werken  the  verrey  practik  of  the 
forseide  conclusiouns,  as  ferforth  and 

90  as  narwe  as  may  be  shewed  in  so  smal 
an  instrument  portatif  aboute.  For 
wel  wot  every  astrologien  that  smalest 
fraccions  ne  wol  nat  ben  shewed  in 
so   smal  an  instrument,   as  in  subtil 

95  tables  calculed  for  a  cause. 

III.  The  thridde  partie  shal  con- 
tienen  diverse  tables  of  longitudes 
and  latitudes  of  sterres  iixe  for  the 
Astrolabie,  and  tables  of  declinacions 

100  of  the  Sonne,  and  tables  of  longitudes 
of  citeez  and  of  tovvnes;  and  as  wel 
for  the  governance  of  a  clokke  as  for 
to  finde  the  altitude  meridian  ;  and 
many   another    notable    conclusioun, 

105  after  the  kalendres  of  the  reverent 
clerkes,  frere  I.  Somer  and  frere  N. 
Lenne. 

IV.  The  ferthe  partie  shal  ben  a 
theorik  to  declare  the  moevinge  of  the 

no  celestial  bodies  with  the  causes.  The 
whiche  ferthe  partie  in  special  shal 
shewen  a  table  of  the  verray  moev- 
ing  of  the  mone  from  houre  to  houre, 
every  day  and    in   every  signe,  after 

115  thyn  almenak;  upon  which  table  ther 
folwith  a  canon,  suffisant  to  teche  as 
wel  the  maner  of  the  vvyrking  of  that 
same  conclusioun,  as  to  knowe  in  oure 
orizonte    with   which    degree    of   the 

120  zodiac  that  the  mone  ariseth  in  any 
latitude  ;  and  the  arising  of  any 
planete  after  his  latitude  fro  the 
ecliptik  lyne. 

V.  The  fifte  partie  shal  ben  an  in- 
125  troductorie  after  the    statutz  of  oure 

doctours,  in  which  thou  maist  lerne  a 
gret  part  of  the  general  rewles  of 
theorik  in  astrologie.  In  which  (ifte 
partie  shaltow  finde  tables  of  equa- 
130  cions  of  houses  aftur  the  latitude  of 
Oxenford  ;    and  tables  of  dignetes  of 


planetes,  and  other  noteful  thingcs, 
yif  god  wol  vouch-sauf  and  his  modur 
the  mayde,  mo  than  I  be-hete,  &c. 

PART  I. 

Here  biginneth  the  descritcion 
OF  THE  Astrolabie. 

1.  Thyn  Astrolabie  hath  a  ring  to 
putten  on  the  thoumbe  of  thy  right 
hand  in  taking  the  heighte  of  thinges. 
And  tak  keep,  for  from  hennes-forth- 
ward,  I  wol  clepe  the  heighte  of  any  5 
thing  that  is  taken  by  thy  rewle,  the 
altitude,  with-oute  mo  wordes. 

2.  This  ring  renneth  in  a  maner 
turet,  fast  to  the  moder  of  thyn  As- 
trolabie, in  so  rowm  a  space  that  hit 
desturljeth  nat  the  instrument  to 
hangen  after  his  righte  centre.  c 

3.  The  Moder  of  thyn  Astrolabie 
is  the  thikkeste  plate,  perced  with  a 
large  hole,  that  resseyveth  in  hir 
wombe  the  thinne  plates  compowned 
for  diverse  clymatz,  and  thy  riet  5 
shapen  in  manere  of  a  net  or  of  a 
webbe  of  a  loppe  ;  and  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

4.  This  moder  is  devyded  on  the 
bak-half  with  a  lyne,  that  cometh 
dessendinge  fro  the  ring  down  to  the 
nethereste  bordure.  The  whiche 
lyne,  fro  the  for-seide  ring  un-to  the  5 
centre  of  the  large  hole  amidde,  is 
cleped  the  south  lyne,  or  elles  the 
lyne  meridional.     And  the  remenant 

of  this  lyne  downe  to  the  bordure  is 
cleped  the  north    lyne,  or   elles  the    10 
lyne  of  midnight.     And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

5.  Over-thwart  this  for-seide  longe 
lyne,  ther  crosseth  him  another  lyne 
of  the  same  lengthe  from  est  to  west. 
Of  the  whiche  lyne,  from  a  litel  croys 

+  in  the  bordure  un-to  the  centre  of  5 
the  large  hole,  is  cleped  the  Est  lyne, 
or  elles  the  lyne  Orientale;  and  the 
remenant  of  this  lyne  fro  the  forseide 
+  un-to  the  bordure,  is  cleped  the 
West  lyne,  or  the  lyne  Occidentale.  10 
Now  hastow  here  the  foure  quarters 
of  thin  Astrolabie,  devyded  after  the 


A   TREATISE   ON    THE   ASTROEABE.     PART   L 


441 


foure  principals  plages  or  quarters  of 

the   firmament.      And    for    the   more 
15  tleclaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

6.  Tlie  est  side  of  thyn  Aslrolabie 
is  cleped  the  rij^ht  side,  and  the  west 
side  is  cleped  the  left  side.  Forget 
nat  this,  litel    Eowis.      Put   the   ring 

5  of  thyn  Astri)lal)ie  upon  the  thoumbe 
of  thy  righ't  hand,  and  thanne  wole 
his  right  syde  be  toward  thy  left 
syde,  and  his  left  syde  wol  be  toward 
thy  right  syde;    tak   this  rewle  gen- 

10  era),  as  wel  on  the  bak  as  on  the 
wombe-side.  Upon  the  ende  of  this 
este  lyne,  as  I  first  seide,  is  marked 
a  litel  +,  wher-as  evere-mo  generaly 
is  considered  the  entring  of  the  first 

15  degree  in  which  the  Sonne  aryseth. 
And  for  the  more  declaracioun,  lo 
here  the  figure. 

7.  Fro  this  litel  +  up  to  the  ende 
of  the  lyne  meritlional,  under  the 
ring,  shallow  finden  the  bordure  de- 
vyded  with  go  degrees;    and  by  that 

5  same  proporcioun  is  every  quarter  of 
thin  Astrolabie  devyded.  Os'er  the 
whiche  degrees  ther  ben  noumbres 
of  augrim,  that  devyden  thilke  same 
degrees  fro  fyve  to  fyve,  as  sheweth 

10  by  longe  strykes  by-t\vene.  Of  whiche 
longe  strykes  the  space  by-twene  con- 
tienith  a  mile-wey.  And  every  de- 
gree of  the  bordure  contieneth  foure 
minutes,  that  is  to  seyn,  minutes   of 

15  an  huure.  And  for  more  declaracioun, 
lo  here  the  figure. 

8.  Under  the  compas  of  thilke 
degrees  ben  writen  the  names  of 
the  Twelve  Signes,  as  Aries,  Taurus, 
Gemini,  Cancer,   Leo,   Virgo,   Libra, 

5  Scorpio,  Sagittarius,  Capricornus, 
.\quarius,  Pisces;  and  the  nombres 
of  the  degrees  of  tho  signes  ben 
writen  in  augrim  above,  and  with 
longe    devisiouns,    fro    fyve   to   fyve; 

10  devyded  fro  tyme  that  the  signe 
entreth  un-to  the  laste  ende.  But 
understond  wel,  that  thise  degrees 
of  signes  ben  everich  of  hem  con- 
sidered   of    60    minutes,    and    every 

15  minute  of  60  secondes,  and  so  forth 
in-tu  sinale  fraccions  infinit,  as  seith 
Alkabucius.    And  ther-for,  know  wel, 


that   a   degree  of  the  bordure  con- 
tieneth  foure  minutes,  and  a  degree 
of  a  signe  contieneth  60  minutes,  and    20 
have  this  in  minde.    And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

9.  Next  this  folweth  the  Cercle  of 
the  Daves,  that  ben  ligured  in  maner 
of  degrees,  that  contienen  in  noum- 
bre  365;  divyded  also  with  longe 
strykes  fro  fyve  to  fyve,  and  the 
nombres  in  augrim  writen  under 
that  cercle.  And  for  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  thy  figure. 

10.  Next  the  Cercle  of  the  Dayes, 
folweth  the  Cercle  of  the  names  of 
the  Monthes;  that  is  to  seyn,  lanu- 
are,  Februare,  Marcius,  .'Vprile,  Mayus, 
luin,  lulius,  Augustus,  Septembre,  5 
October,  Novembre,  Decembre.  The 
names  of  thise  monthes  were  cleped 
in  Arabiens,  somme  for  hir  propre- 
tees,  and  some  by  statutz  of  lordes, 
some  by  other  lordes  of  Rome.  Eek  10 
of  thise  monthes,  as  lyked  to  lulius 
Cesar  and  to  Cesar  Augustus,  some 
were  compowned  of  diverse  nombres 
of  dayes,  as  luil  and  August.  Thanne 
hath  lanuare  31  dayes,  Februare  28,  15 
March  31,  Aprille  30,  May  31,  lunius 
30,  lulius  31,  Augustus  31,  .Septem- 
ber 30,  Octobre  31,  Novembre  30, 
December  31.  Natheles,  al-though 
that  lulius  Cesar  took  2  dayes  out  of  20 
Feverer  and  put  hem  in  his  moneth 
of  luille,  and  Augustus  Cesar  cleped 
the  moneth  of  August  after  his  name, 
and  ordeyned  it  of  31  dayes,  yit 
truste  wel,  that  the  Sonne  dwelleth  25 
ther-for  nevere  the  more  ne  lesse  in 
oon  signe  than  in  another. 

11.  Than  folwen  the  names  of  the 
Halidays  in  the  Kalender,  and  next 
hem  the  lettres  of  the  Abe.  on  which 
they  fallen.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  thy  figure.  5 

12.  Next  the  forseide  Cercle  of  the 
Abe,  under  the  cros-lyne,  is  marked 
the  scale,  in  maner  of  two  squyres, 
or  elles  in  manere  of  laddres,  that 
serveth  by  hise  12  poyntes  and  his  5 
devisiouns  of  ful  many  a  subtil  con- 
clusioun.  Of  this  forseide  scale,  fro 
the  croos-lyne  un-to  the  verre  angle, 


442 


A  TREATISE  ON   THE  ASTROLABE.     PART   I. 


is  cleped  umbra  versa,  and  the  nether 

10  partie  is  cleped  the  umbra  recta,  or 

elles  umbra  extensa.      And   for   the 

more  declaracioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

13.  Thanne  hastow  a  brood  Rewle, 
that  hath  on  either  ende  a  square 
plate  percedwith  a  certein  holes,  some 
more    and    some    lesse,  to   resseyven 

5  the  stremes  of  the  sonne  by  day,  and 
eek  by  mediacioun  of  thyn  eye,  to 
knowe  the  altitude  of  sterres  by 
nighte.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  thy  figure. 

14.  Thanne  is  ther  a  large  Pyn,  in 
maner  of  an  extree,  that  goth  thorow 
the  hole  that  halt  the  tables  of  the 
clymates  and  the  riet  in  the  wombe 

5  of  the  Moder,  thorw  which  Pyn  ther 
goth  a  litel  wegge  which  that  is 
cleped  '  the  hors,'  that  streyneth  alle 
thise  parties  to-hepe;  this  forseide 
grete  Pyn,  in  maner  of  an  extree,  is 
10  imagined  to  be  the  Pol  Artik  in 
thyn  Astrolabie.  And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

1 5.  The  wombe-side  of  thyn  Astro- 
labie is  also  devyded  with  a  longe 
croys  in  foure  quarters  from  est  to 
west,    fro    south    to    north,  fro   right 

5  syde  to  left  syde,  as  is  the  bak-syde. 
And  for  the  more  declaracioun,  lo 
here  thy  figure. 

16.  The  bordure  of  which  wombe- 
side  is  devyded  fro  the  poynt  of  the 
est  lyne  un-to  the  poynt  of  the  south 
lyne   under  the  ring,  in    90  degres; 

5  and  by  that  same  proporcioun  is 
every  quarter  devyded  as  is  the  bak- 
syde,  that  amonteth  360  degrees. 
And  understond  wel,  that  degrees  of 
this  bordure  ben  answering  and  con- 

10  sentrik  to  the  degrees  of  the  Equi- 
noxial,  that  is  devyded  in  the  same 
nombre  as  every  othere  cercle  is  in 
the  heye  hevene.  This  same  bordure 
is  devyded  also  with  23  lettres  capitals 

15  and  a  smal  croys  +  above  the  south 
lyne,  that  sheweth  the  24  houres 
equals  of  the  clokke;  and,  as  I  have 
said,  5  of  thise  degrees  maken  a 
mile-wey,  and   3  mile-wey  maken  an 

20  houre.  And  every  degree  of  this 
bordure    conteneth    4   minutes,   and 


every  minut  60  secoundes ;  now  have 
I  told  thee  twye.  And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

17.  The  plate  under  thy  riet  is 
descryved  with  3  principal  cercles; 
of  whiche  the  Teste  is  cleped  the 
cercle  of  Cancer,  by-cause  that  the 
heved  of  Cancer  turneth  evermor  5 
consentrik  up-on  the  same  cercle. 
In  this  heved  of  Cancer  is  the  gret- 
test  declinacioun  northward  of  the 
Sonne.  And  ther-for  is  he  cleped 
the  Solsticioun  of  Somer;  whiche  10 
declinacioun,  aftur  Ptholome,  is  23 
degrees  and  50  minutes,  as  wel  in 
Cancer  as  in  Capricorne.  This  signe 
of  Cancre  is  cleped  the  Tropik  of 
Somer,  of  tropos,  that  is  to  seyn  15 
'agaynward;'  for  thanne  by-ginneth 
the  Sonne  to  passe  fro  us-ward.  And 
for  the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here  the 
figure. 

The  middel  cercle  in  wydnesse,  of  20 
thise  3,  is  cleped  the  Cercle  Equi- 
noxial;  up-on  whiche  turneth  evermo 
the  hedcs  of  Aries  and  Libra.  And 
understond  wel,  that  evermo  this 
Cercle  Equinoxial  turneth  iustly  fro  25 
verrey  est  to  verrey  west;  as  I  have 
shewed  thee  in  the  spere  solide. 
This  same  cercle  is  cleped  also  the 
Weyere,  equator,  of  the  day;  for 
whan  the  sonne  is  in  the  hevedes  of  30 
Aries  and  Libra,  than  ben  the  dayes 
and  the  nightes  ilyke  of  lengthe  in  al 
the  world.  And  ther-fore  ben  thise 
two  signes  called  the  Equinoxies. 
And  alle  that  moeveth  with -in  the  35 
hevedes  of  thise  Aries  and  Libra,  his 
moeving  is  cleped  northward;  and 
alle  that  moeveth  with-oute  thise 
hevedes,  his  moeving  is  cleped  south- 
ward as  fro  the  equinoxial.  Tak  keep  40 
of  thise  latitudes  north  and  sowth, 
and  forget  it  nat.  By  this  Cercle 
Equinoxial  ben  considered  the  24 
houres  of  the  clokke;  for  everemo 
the  arysing  of  15  degrees  of  the  equi-  45 
noxial  maketh  an  houre  equal  of  the 
clokke.  This  equinoxial  is  cleped 
the  girdel  of  the  firste  moeving,  or 
elles  of  the  angulus  pri/iii  motus  vel 
primi  mobilis.     And  nota,  that  firste    50 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   I. 


443 


moeving  is  cleped  '  moeving '  of  the 
firste  inuevable  of  the  8  spere,  whiche 
moeving  is  fro  est  to  west,  and  eft 
agayn    in-to    est;     also    it    is    clepiil 

55  '  girdel '  of  the  first  moeving,  for  it 
departeth  the  firste  moevable,  that  is 
to  seyii,  the  spere,  in  two  ilyke  par- 
ties, evene-distantz  fro  the  poles  of 
this  world. 

6o  1  he  wydeste  of  thise  three  princi- 
pal cercles  is  cleped  the  Cercle  of 
Capricorne,  by-cause  that  the  heved 
of  Capricorne  turneth  evermo  con- 
sentrik   up-on   the  same    cercle.     In 

65  the  heved  of  this  for-seide  Capricorne 
is  the  grettest  declinacioun  south- 
ward of  the  Sonne,  and  ther-for  is  it 
cleped  the  Solsticioun  of  Winter. 
This    signe    of    Capricorne    is    also 

70  cleped  the  Tropik  of  Winter,  for 
thanne  byginneth  the  Sonne  to  come 
agayn  to  us-ward.  And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

18.  Upon  this  forseide  plate  ben 
compassed  certein  cercles  that  highten 
Almicanteras,  of  which  som  of  hem 
semen     perfit    cercles,    and     somme 

5  semen  inperfit.  The  centre  that 
standith  a-middes  the  narwest  cercle 
is  cleped  the  Senith;  and  the  nether- 
est  cercle,  or  the  firste  cercle,  is 
clepid  the  Orisonte,  that  is  to  seyn, 

10  the  cercle  that  devydeth  the  two  emi- 
speries,  that  is,  the  partie  of  the 
hevene  a-bove  the  erthe  and  the 
partie  be-ncthe.  Thise  Almicanteras 
ben  compowned  by  two  and  two,  al- 

15  be-it  so  that  on  divers  Astrolabies 
some  Almicanteras  ben  devyded  by 
oon,  and  some  by  two,  and  somme 
by  three,  after  the  quantite  of  the 
Astrolabie.      This  forseide    senith    is 

20  imagened  to  ben  the  verrey  point  over 
the  crowne  of  thyn  heved;  and  also 
this  senith  is  the  verrey  pool  of  the 
orisonte  in  every  regioun.  And  for 
the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here   thy 

25  figure. 

19.  From  this  senith,  as  it  semeth, 
ther  come  a  maner  crokede  strykes 
lyke  to  the  clawes  of  a  loppe,  or  elles 
like  to  the  werk  of  a  womancs  calle, 

5  in  kerving  overthwart  the  Almikan- 


teras.  And  thise  same  strykes  or  di- 
visiouns  ben  cleped  A/.imuthz.  And 
they  devyden  the  orisonte  of  thyn 
Astrolaliie  in  four  and  twenty  devis- 
iouns.  And  thise  Azimutz  serven  to  10 
knowe  the  costes  of  the  lirmament, 
and  to  othre  conclusiouns,  as  for  to 
knowe  the  cenith  of  the  sonne  anil 
of  every  sterre.  And  for  more  dec- 
laracioun, lo  here  thy  figure.  15 

20.  Next  thise  azimutz,  under  the 
Cercle  of  Cancer,  ben  ther  twelve 
devisiouns  embelif,  moche  like  to  the 
shap  of  the  azimutes,  that  shewen 
the  spaces  of  the  houres  of  planetes;  5 
and  for  more  declaracioun,  lo  here 
thy  figure. 

21.  The  Riet  of  thyn  Astrolabie 
with  thy  zodiak,  shapen  in  maner  of 
a  net  or  of  a  loppe-webbe  after  the 
olde  descripcioun,  which  thow  mayst 
tornen  up  and  doun  as  thy-self  lyketh,  5 
conteneth  certein  nombre  of  sterres 
fixes,  with  hir  longitudes  and  lati- 
tudes determinat;  yif  so  he  that  the 
makere  have  nat  erred.     The  names 

of    the    sterres    ben    writen    in    the    10 
margin  of  the  riet  ther  as  they  sitte; 
of  whiche  sterres  the  smale  pi)ynt  is 
cleped  the  Centre.     And  understond 
also  that  alle  sterres  sittinge  with-in 
the   zodiak    of   thyn    Astrolabie    ben    15 
cleped  '  sterres  of  the  north,'  for  they 
arysen  by  northe  the  est  lyne.     And 
alle  the  remenant  fixed,  out  of  the 
zodiak,    ben    cleped    '  sterres    of   the 
south;  '  but  I  sey  nat  that  they  arysen    20 
alle  by  southe  the  est  lyne;   witnesse 
on  Aldeberan  and  Algomeysa.     Gen- 
erally   understond    this    rewle,    that 
thilke  sterres  that  ben  cleped  sterres 
of  the  north  arysen  rather  than  the    25 
degree  of  hir  longitude,  and  alle  the 
sterres    of    the    south    arysen    after 
the  degree  of  hir  longitude;    this  is 
to  seyn,  sterres  fixed  in  thyn  Astro- 
labie.    The  mesure  of  this  longitude    30 
of  sterres  is  taken  in  the  lyne  ecliptik 
of  hevene,  under  which   lyne,  whan 
that   the    sonne   and    the    mone   ben 
lyne-right  or  elles  in  the  superfice  of 
this   lyne,   than   is   the   eclips  of  the    35 
Sonne  or  of  the  mone;   as  1  shal  de- 


444 


A   TREATISE   ON   THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


clare,  and  eek  the  cause  why.  But 
sothly  the  Ecliptik  Lyne  of  thy  zodiak 
is  the  outtereste   bordure  of  thy  zo- 

40  diak,  ther  the  degrees  ben  marked. 

'ITiy  Zodiak  of  thyn  Astrulabie  is 

shapen  as  a  compas  which  that  con- 

teneth    a    large    brede,    as   after    the 

quantite  of  thyn   Astrolat^ie;    in   en- 

45  sample  that  the  zodiak  in  hevene  is 
imagened  to  ben  a  supertice  conten- 
ing  a  latitude  of  twelve  degrees, 
wheras  al  the  remenant  of  cercles  in 
the  hevene  ben  imagined  verrey  lynes 

50  with-oute  eny  latitude.  Amiddes  this 
celestial  zodiak  ys  imagined  a  lyne, 
which  that  is  cleped  the  Ecliptik 
Lyne,  under  which  lyne  is  evermo 
the    wey   of   the    Sonne.      Thus    ben 

55  ther  six  degrees  of  the  zodiak  on  that 
on  side  of  the  lyne,  and  six  degrees 
on  that  other.  This  zodiak  is  devided 
in  twelve  principal  devisiouns,  that 
departen  the  twelve  signes.     And,  for 

60  the  streitnes  of  thin  Astrolabie,  than 
is  every  smal  devisioun  in  a  signe 
departid  by  two  degrees  and  two; 
I  mene  degrees  contening  sixty  min- 
utes.     And    this    forseide    hevenissh 

65  zodiak  is  cleped  the  Cercle  of  the 
Signes,  or  the  Cercle  of  the  Bestes; 
for  zodia  in  langage  of  Greek  sowneth 
'bestes'  in  Latin  tonge;  and  in  the 
zodiak    ben    the    twelve    signes    that 

70  han  names  of  bestes;  or  elles,  for 
whan  the  sonne  entreth  in  any  of 
the  signes,  he  taketh  the  propretee 
of  swich  bestes;  or  elles,  for  that  the 
sterres  that  ben  there  fixed  ben  dis- 

75  posed  in  signes  of  bestes,  or  shape 
like  bestes;  or  elles,  whan  the  plan- 
etes  ben  under  thilke  signes,  they 
causen  us  by  hir  influence  opera- 
ciouns  and  effectes  lyk  to  the  opera- 

So  ciouns  of  bestes.  And  understonde 
also,  that  whan  an  hot  planete  cometh 
in-to  an  hot  signe,  than  encresseth 
his  hete;  and  yif  a  planete  be  cold, 
thanne  amenuseth  his  coldnesse,  by- 
85  cause  of  the  bote  signe.  And  by  this 
conclusioun  maystow  take  ensaniple 
in  alle  the  signes,  be  they  moist  or 
drye,  or  moeble  or  fix;  rekening  the 
qualitee  of  the  planete  as  I  first  seide. 


And  everich  of  thise  twelve  signes  90 
hath  respecte  to  a  certein  parcelle  of 
the  body  of  a  man  and  hath  it  in  gov- 
ernance; as  Aries  hath  thyn  heved, 
and  Taurus  thy  nekke  and  thy  throte, 
Gemini  thyn  armholes  and  thyn  arines,  95 
and  so  forth ;  as  shal  be  shewed  more 
pleyn  in  the  fifte  partie  of  this  tretis. 
This  zodiak,  which  that  is  part  of  the 
eighte  spere,  over-kerveth  the  equi- 
noxial;  and  he  over-kerveth  him  100 
again  in  evene  parties;  and  that  on 
half  declineth  southward,  and  that 
other  northward,  as  pleynly  declareth 
the  tretis  of  the  spere.  And  for  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure.  105 

22.  Thanne  hastow  a  label,  that  is 
schapen  lyk  a  rewle,  save  that  it  is 
streit  and  hath  no  plates  on  either 
ende  with  holes;  but,  with  the  smale 
point  of  the  forseide  label,  shaltow  5 
calcule  thyne  equaciouns  in  the  bor- 
dure of  thin  Astrolabie,  as  by  thyn 
almury.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  thy  figure. 

23.  Thyn  Almury  is  cleped  the 
Denticle  of  Capricorne,  or  elles  the 
Calculer.  This  same  Almury  sit  lix 
in  the  hed  of  Capricorne,  and  it 
serveth  of  many  a  necessarie  conclu-  5 
sioun  in  equaciouns  of  thinges,  as 
shal  be  shewed;  and  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

Here  endeth  the  descripcioun  of  the 
Astrolabie. 


PART   II. 

Here   biginnen  the   Conclusions 
OF  THE  Astrolabie. 

I.  To  fy tide  the  degree  hi  ivhich  the 
Sonne  is  day  by  day,  after  Mr  coiirs 
a-boute. 

\^Hic  incipiunt  Conclusiones  Astrola- 
bii;  et  prima  est  ad  inveniendum 
gradus  so/is  in  quibns  singulis 
diebus  secundum  corsum  sol  est 
existens.'\ 

Rekene  and  knowe  which  is  the 
day  of  thy  monthe;  and  ley  thy  reule 
up  that  same  day;   and    thanne  wol 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE  ASTROLABE.     PART  II. 


445 


the  verray  point  of  thy  rewle  sitteii  in 
5  the  borrlure,  up-on  the  degree  of  thy 
Sonne.  Ensample  as  thus;  the  yeer 
of  oure  lord  1391,  the  12  day  of 
March  at  midday,  I  wolde  knowe  the 
degree  cf  the  sonne.      I  soughte  in 

10  the  bak-half  of  myn  Astrolabie,  and 
fond  the  cercle  of  the  dayes,  the 
which  I  l<nowe  by  the  names  of  the 
nuinthes  writen  untlcr  the  same  cercle. 
Tho  leide  I  my  rewle  over  this  forseide 

15  day,  and  fond  the  point  of  my  rewle 
in  the  bordure  up-on  the  tirste  degree 
of  Aries,  a  litel  with-in  the  degree; 
and  thus  knowe  I  this  conclusioun. 
Another    day,    I    wolde    knowe    the 

20  degree  of  my  sonne,  and  this  was  at 
midday  in  the  13  day  of  Decembre; 
I  fond  the  day  of  the  monthe  in 
maner  as  I  seide;  tho  leide  I  my 
rewle  up-on  this  forseide  13  day,  and 

25  fond  the  point  of  my  rewle  in  the 
bordure  up-on  the  first  degree  of 
Capricorne,  a  lite  with-in  the  degree; 
and  than  hadde  I  of  this  conclusioun 
the  ful  experience.    And  for  the  more 

30  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

2,  To  knoive  the  altitude  of  the  sonne, 

or  of  othre  celestial  bodies. 

\^De  altitudine  solis  et  aliorum  cor- 
porum  supra  celestiuin.'\ 

Put  the  ring  of  thyn  Astrolabie 
up-on  thy  right  thoumbe,  and  turne 
thy  lift  syde  agayn  the  light  of  the 
Sonne.  And  remeve  thy  rev\le  up 
5  and  doun,  til  that  the  stremes  of  the 
Sonne  shyne  thorgh  bothe  holes  of 
thy  rewle.  Loke  thanne  how  many 
degrees  thy  rewle  is  areised  fro  the 
litel  crois    up-on  thyn    est    line,  and 

lo  tak  ther  the  altitude  of  thy  sonne. 
And  in  this  same  wyse  maistow  knowe 
by  nighte  the  altitude  of  the  mone, 
or  of  brighte  sterres.  This  chapitre 
is  so  general  ever  in  oon,  that   ther 

15  nedith  no  more  declaracion;  but 
forget  it  nat.  And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

3.  To  knowe  every  tytnc  of  the  day 
by  light   of  the   soniu;    and   c-vcry 


tyine  of  the  night  by  the  sterres  fixe, 
and  eke  to  knowe  by  night  or  by  day 
the  degree  of  any  signe  that  assendcth 
on  the  Est  Orisonte,  which  that  is 
cleped  conununly  the  Assendent,  or 
elles  Oruscupum. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  qtiodlibet  tcnipus 
diei  per  solis  indicacionem,  et  ijuod- 
libet  tentpus  noctis  per  quasdam 
Stellas  in  celo  fixas ;  ac  eciain  ad 
inveniendum  et  cognoscendttm  sig- 
num  super  orizontem  qui  com- 
muniter  vocatur  ascendens.'\ 

Tak  the  altitude  of  the  sonne  whan 
thee  lisr,  as  I  have  said ;  and  set  the 
degree  of  the  sonne,  in  cas  that  it  be 
by-forn  the  middei  of  the  day,  among 
thyn  almikanteras  on  the  est  side  of  5 
thyn  Astrolabie;  and  yif  it  be  after 
the  middei  of  the  day,  set  the  degree 
of  thy  Sonne  up-on  the  west  side;  tak 
this  manere  of  setting  for  a  general 
rewle,  ones  for  evere.  And  whan  10 
thou  hast  set  the  degree  of  thy  sonne 
up  as  many  almikanteras  of  heyghte 
as  was  the  altitude  of  the  sonne 
taken  by  thy  rewle,  ley  over  thy  label, 
up-on  the  degree  of  the  sonne;  and  15 
thanne  wol  the  point  of  thy  label 
sitten  in  the  bordure,  up-on  the 
verrey  tyd  of  the  day.  Ensample  as 
thus  :  the  yeer  of  oure  lord  1391,  the 
12  day  of  March,  I  wold  knowe  the  20 
tyd  of  the  day.  I  took  the  altitude 
of  my  Sonne,  and  fond  that  it  was 
25  degrees  and  30  of  minutes  of 
heyghte  in  the  bordure  on  the  bak- 
syde.  Tho  turnede  I  myn  Astrolabie,  25 
and  by  cause  that  it  was  by-forn  mid- 
day, I  turnede  my  riet,  and  sette  the 
degree  of  the  sonne,  that  is  to  seyn, 
the  I  degree  of  Aries,  on  the  right 
syde  of  myn  Astrolabie,  up-on  that  30 
25  degrees  and  30  of  minutes  of 
heyghte  among  myn  almikanteras; 
tho  leide  I  my  label  up-on  the  degree 
of  my  Sonne,  and  fond  the  poynte  of 
my  label  in  the  Ijordure,  up-on  a  cajii-  35 
tal  lettre  that  is  cleped  an  X;  tho 
rekened  I  alle  the  capitalles  lettres 
fro  the  lyne  of  midnight  un-to  this 
forseide  lettre  X,  and  foiul  that  it  was 


446 


A  TREATISE   ON  THE  ASTROLABE.     PART  II, 


409  of  the  clokke  of  the  day.  Tho 
loked  I  down  up-on  the  est  orisonte, 
and  fond  there  the  20  degree  of 
Geminis  assending;  which  that  I  tok 
for  myn  assendent.  And  in  this  wyse 
45  hadde  I  the  experience  for  ever-mo 
in  which  maner  I  sholde  knowe 
the  tyd  of  the  day,  and  eek  myn 
assendent.  Tho  wolde  I  wite  the 
same  night  folvving  the  hour  of  the 
50  night,  and  wroughte  in  this  wyse. 
Among  an  heep  of  sterris  fixe,  it 
lyked  me  for  to  take  the  aUitude  of 
the  feire  white  sterre  that  is  cleped 
Alhabor;   and  fond  hir  sitting  on  the 

55  west  side  of  the  lyne  of  midday,  18 
degres  of  heighte  taken  by  my  rewle 
on  the  bak-syde.  Tho  sette  I  the 
centre  of  this  Alhabor  up-on  18  de- 
grees among  myn  almikanteras,  up-on 

60  the  west  syde;  by-cause  that  she  was 
founden  on  the  west  syde.  Tho 
leide  I  my  label  over  the  degree 
of  the  Sonne  that  was  descended  under 
the  weste  orisonte,  and  rikened  alle 

65  the  lettres  capitals  fro  the  lyne  of 
midday  un-to  the  point  of  my  label 
in  the  bordure;  and  fond  that  it  was 
passed  8  of  the  clokke  the  space  of 
2  degrees.     Tho  loked  I  doun  up-on 

70  myn  est  orisonte,  and  fond  ther  23 
degrees  of  Libra  assending,  whom  I 
tok  for  myn  assendent;  and  thus 
lerned  I  to  knowe  ones  for  ever  in 
which  raanere  I  shuld   come  to   the 

75  houre  of  the  night  and  to  myn  as- 
sendent; as  verreyly  as  may  be  taken 
bysosmal  an  instrument.  But  nathe- 
les,  in  general,  wolde  I  warne  thee 
for  evere,  ne  mak  thee  nevere  bold 

80  to  have  take  a  iust  ascendent  by  thyn 
Astrolabie,  or  elles  to  have  set  iustly 
a  clokke,  whan  any  celestial  body 
by  which  that  thow  wenest  governe 
thilke  thinges  ben  ney  the  south  lyne ; 

85  for  trust  wel,  whan  that  the  sonne  is 
ney  the  meridional  lyne,  the  degree  of 
the  Sonne  renneth  so  lunge  consentrik 
up-on  the  almikanteras,  that  sothly 
thou  shall  erre  fro  the  iust  assendent. 

90  The  same  conclusioun  sey  I  by  the 
centre  of  any  sterre  fix  l)y  night;  and 
more-over,  by  experience,  I  wot  wel 


that  in  oure  orisonte,  from  1 1  of  the 
clokke  un-to  oon  of  the  clokke,  in 
taking  of  a  iust  assendent  in  a  pota-  95 
tif  Astrolabie,  hit  is  to  hard  to  knowe. 
I  mene,  from  1 1  of  the  clokke  biforn 
the  houre  of  noon  til  oon  of  the  clok 
next  folwing.  And  for  the  more 
declaracion,  lo  here  thy  figure.  100 

4.    Special  declaracion  of  the  assen- 
dent. 

\_Specialis  declaracio  de  ascendente^ 

The  assendent  sothly,  as  wel  in  alle 
nativitez  as  in  questiouns    and  elec- 
ciouns  of  tymes,  is  a  thing  which  that 
thise    astrologiens    gretly    observen; 
wher-fore  me  semeth  convenient,  sin      5 
that  I  speke  of  the  assendent,  to  make 
of  it  special  declaracioun.    The  assen- 
dent sothly,  to  take  it  at  the  largeste, 
is  thilke  degree  that  assendeth  at  any     . 
of  thise  forseide  tymes  upon  the  est    10 
orisonte;    and  there-for,  yif  that  any 
planet  assende  at  that  same  tyme  in 
thilke  for-seide  degree  of  his  longi- 
tude, men  seyn  that  thilke  planete  is 
in  horoscppo.      But  sothly,  the  hous    15 
of  the  assendent,  that  is  to  seyn,  the 
firste  hous  or  the  est  angle,  is  a  thing 
more  brood  and  large.     For  after  the 
statutz  of  astrologiens,  what  celestial 
body  that  is  5  degres  above  thilk  de-   20 
gree  that  assendeth,  or  with-in  that 
noumbre,  that  is  to  seyn,  nere  the  de- 
gree  that  assendeth,  yit    rikne    they 
thilke  planet  in  the  assendent.     And 
what  planete  that  is  under  thilke  de-    25 
gree  that  assendith  the  space  of  25 
degrees,    yit    seyn    they    that    thilke 
planete  is  lyk  to  him  that  is  in  the 
hous  of  the  assendent;  but  sothly,  yif 
he  passe  the  bondes  of  thise  forseide   30 
spaces,  above  or  bynethe,  they  seyn 
that  the  planete  is  failling  fro  the  as- 
sendent.    Yit  sein  thise  astrologiens, 
that  the  assendent,  and  eke  the  lord 
of  the  assendent,  may  be  shapen  for    35 
to  be  fortunat  or  infortunat,  as  thus: 
a  fortunat  assendent  clepen  they  whan 
that  no  wykkid  planete,  as  Saturne  or 
Mars,  or  elles  the  Tail  of  the  Dragoun, 
is  in  the  hous   of  the  assendent,  ne   40 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE  ASTROLABE.    PART  H. 


447 


that  no  wikked  planete  have  non  as- 
pecte  of  eneniite  up-on  the  assendent; 
hut  they  w"!  caste  that  they  have  a 
fortuiiat  planete  in  hir  assendent  and 

45  yit  in  his  felicitee,  antl  than  sey  they 
that  it  is  wel.  Forther-over,  they  seyn 
that  the  infortuning  of  an  assenilent 
is  the  contiairie  of  thise  forseide 
tliinges.     Tlie  lord  of  the  assendent, 

50  sey  they,  that  he  is  fortunat,  whan  he 
is  in  good  place  fro  the  assendent  as 
in  angle;  or  in  a  succedent,  where-as 
he  is  in  his  dignitee  and  ponforted 
with  frendly  aspectes  of  planetes  and 

55  wel  resceived,  and  eek  that  he  may 
seen  the  assendent,  and  that  he  be  nat 
retrograd  ne  combust,  ne  ioigned  with 
no  shrewe  in  the  same  signe;  ne  that 
he    be    nat    in    his    descencioun,    ne 

60  ioigned  with  no  planete  in  his  discen- 
cioun,  ne  have  up-on  him  non  aspecte 
infortunat;  antl  than  sey  they  that  he 
is  wel.  Natheles,  thise  ben  obser- 
vauncez  of  iudicial  matiere  and  rytes 

65  of  payens,  in  which  my  spirit  ne  hath 
no  feith,  ne  no  knowing  of  hir  horo- 
scopiim ;  for  they  seyn  that  every 
signe  is  departed  in  3  evene  parties 
by  10  degrees,  and  thilke   porcioun 

70  they  clepe  a  Face.  And  al-thogh 
that  a  planete  have  a  latitude  fro  the 
ecliptik,  yit  sey  some  folk,  so  that  the 
planete  aryse  in  that  same  signe  with 
any  degree   of  the  forseide   face  in 

75  which  his  longitude  is  rekned,  that 
yit  is  the  planete  /;/  horoscopo,  be  it 
in  nativite  or  in  eleccioun,  &c.  And 
for  the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here 
the  figure. 

5.  To  knowe  the  verrey  equaciotin  of 
tin  def^ree  of  the  Sonne,  yif  so  be  that 
itfalle  hy-tioixe  thyn  Almikanteras. 

\_Ad cognoscendum  verarn  equacionem 
de  gradu  soils,  si  contigerit  fore  in 
duas  Alfnicanteras.'\ 

For  as  moche  as  the  almikanteras 
in  thyn  Astrolaliie  been  compouncd 
by  two  and  two,  where-as  some  almi- 
kanteras in  sondry  Astrolabies  ben 
5  compouned  by  on  and  on,  or  dies  by 
two  and  two,  it  is  necessarie  to  thy 


lerning  to  teche  thee  first  to  knowe 
and   worke   with    thyn   owne   instru- 
ment.    Wher-for,  whan  that  the  de- 
gree of  thy  Sonne  falleth  by-twixe  two    10 
almikanteras,  or  elles  yif  thyn  almi- 
kanteras ben  graven  with  over  gret  a 
point  of  a  compas,   (for  bothe  thise 
thinges    may    causen    errour    as    wel 
in  knowing  of  the  tyd  of  the  day  as    15 
of  the  verrey  assendent),  thou  most 
werken  in  this  wyse.     Set  the  degree 
of  thy  Sonne   up-on   the  heyer  almi- 
kanteras of  bothe,  and  waite  wel  wher 
as  thin  almury  toucheth  the  bordure,   20 
and  set  ther  a  prikke  of  inke.       Set 
doun  agayn  the  degree  of  thy  sonne 
up-on    the    nethere    almikanteras  of 
bothe,  and  set   ther  another  prikke. 
Remewe  thanne  thyn  almury  in  the    25 
bordure  evene  amiddes  bothe  prikkes, 
and  this  wol  lede  iustly  the  degree  of 
thy  Sonne  to  sitte  by-twixe  bothe  al- 
mikanteras in  his  right  place.     Ley 
thanne  thy  label  over  the  deg'ree  of    ^o 
thy  Sonne;    and  find  in  the  bordure 
the  verrey  tyde  of  the  day  or  of  the 
night.    And  as  verreyly  shaltow  finde 
up-on  thyn  est  orisonte   thyn  assen- 
dent.    And  for  more  declaracioun,  lo   35 
here  thy  figure. 

6.  To  kno"ve  the  spring  of  the  daiuing 
and  the  e7ide  of  the  evening,  the 
rvhich  ben  called  the  two  crepus- 
culis  : 

\_Ad  (ognoscendton  ortuin  soils  et  elus 
occastim,  que  vacatur  vulgariter 
crepusculuin.'\ 

Set  the  nadir  of  thy  sonne  up-on  18 
degrees  of  heighte  among  thyn  almi- 
kanteras on  the  west  syde,  and  ley 
thy  label  on  the  degree  of  thy  sonne, 
and  thanne  shal  the  poynt  of  thy  label  5 
schewe  the  spring  of  day.  Also  set  the 
nadir  of  thy  sonne  up-on  18  degrees 
of  heighte  a-mong  thyn  almikanteras 
on  the  est  siflc,  and  ley  over  thy  label 
up-on  the  degree  of  the  sonne,  and  lo 
with  the  point  of  thy  label  find 
in  the  bordure  the  ende  of  the 
evening,  that  is,  verrey  night.  The 
nadir  of  the  st)niie    is   thilke   degree 


448 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


15  that  is  opposit  to  the  degree  of  the 
Sonne,  in  the  seventhe  signe,  as  thus  : 
every  degree  of  Aries  by  ordre  is  nadir 
to  every  degree  of  Libra  by  ordre; 
and  Taurus  to   Scorpion;   Gemini  to 

2oSagittare;  Cancer  to  Capricorne;  Leo 
to  Aquarie;  Virgo  to  Pisces;  and  yif 
any  degree  in  thy  zodialc  be  dirk, 
his  nadir  shal  declare  him.  And  for 
the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy 
figure. 


7.  To  kno7ve  the  arch  of  the  day,  that 
some  folk  callen  the  day  artificial, 
from  the  sonne  arysing  til  hit  go  to 
reste. 


[Ad  cognoscendum  archum  diei,  quern 
vulgus  vocal  diem  artificialem,  in 
hoc,  ab  ortu  solis  usque  ad  occa- 
sum.'] 

Set  the  degree  of  thy  sonne  up-on 
thyn  est  orisonte,  and  ley  thy  label 
on  the  degree  of  the  sonne,  and  at 
the  poynt  of  thy  label  in  the  bordure 
5  set  a  prikke.  Turn  thanne  thy  riet 
aboute  til  the  degree  of  the  sonne  sit 
up-on  the  west  orisonte,  and  ley  thy 
label  up-on  the  same  degree  of  the 
sonne,  and  at  the  point  of  thy  lal)el 

10  set  a-nother  prikke.  Rekne  thanne 
the  quantitee  of  tyme  in  the  bordure 
by-tvvixe  bothe  prikkes,  and  tak  ther 
thyn  ark  of  the  day.  The  remenant 
of  the  bordure  under  the  orisonte  is 

15  the  ark  of  the  night.  Thus  maistow 
rekne  bothe  arches,  or  every  porcion, 
of  whether  that  thee  lyketh.  And  by 
this  manere  of  wyrking  maistow  see 
how  longe  that  any  sterre  fix  dwelleth 

20  a-bove  the  erthe,  fro  tyme  that  he 
ryseth  til  he  go  to  reste.  But  the  day 
natural,  that  is  to  seyn  24  houres,  is 
the  revolucioun  of  the  equinoxial  with 
as  moche  partie  of  the  zodiak  as  the 

25  Sonne  of  his  propre  moevinge  pass- 
eth  in  the  mene  whyle.  And  for 
the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here,  thy 
figure. 


8.  To  turn  the  houres  in-equales  in 

houres  equates. 

\_Ad   convertendum    horas   inequales 

in  horas  equates.^ 

Knowe  the  nombre  of  the  degrees 
in  the  houres  in-equales,  and  departe 
hem  by  15,  and  tak  ther  thyn  houres 
equales.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  thy  figure.  5 

9.  To  knowe  the  quantitee  of  the  day 
■vulgare,  that  is  to  seyen,  from 
spruig  of  the  day  un-to  verrey 
n  ight. 

\_Ad  cognosce ndum  quantitatem  diei 
vulgaris,  viz.  ab  ortu  diei  usque  ad 
noctem.^ 

Know  the  quantitee  of  thy  crepus- 
culis,  as  I  have  taught  in  the  chapi- 
tre  bi-forn,  and  adde  hem  to  the 
arch  of  thy  day  artificial;  and  tak 
ther  the  space  of  alle  the  hole  day  5 
vulgar,  un-to  verrey  night.  The 
same  manere  maystow  worke,  to 
knowe  the  quantitee  of  the  vulgar 
night.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  the  figure.  10 

10.     To  knowe  the  quantite  of  houres 
in-equales  by  day. 

[Ad   cognoscendum    horas    inequales 
in  die^ 

Understond  wel,  that  thise  houres 
in-equales  ben  cleped  houres  of 
planetes,  and  understond  wel  that 
som-tyme  ben  they  lengere  by  day 
than  by  night,  and  som-tyme  the  5 
contrarie.  But  understond  wel,  that 
evermo,  generaly,  the  hour  in-equal 
of  the  day  with  the  houre  in-equal 
of  the  night  contenen  30  degrees  of 
the  bordure,  whiche  bordure  is  ever-  10 
mo  answering  to  the  degrees  of  the 
equinoxial;  wher-for  departe  the 
arch  of  the  day  artificial  in  12,  and 
tak  ther  the  quantitee  of  the  houre 
in-equal  by  day.  And  yif  thow  abate  15 
the  quantitee  of  the  houre  in-equal 
by  daye  out  of  30,  than  shal  the 
remenant   that   leveth   performe   the 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE  ASTROLABE.     PART  II. 


449 


houre    inequal    by    niyht.       And    for 
20  the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here   the 
figure. 

11.  To  kncnve  the  quantite  of  hour es 

equalcs. 

\_Ad  cognoscendtiiu  tjnantitatent  hora- 
rtim  inequaliuin.\ 

The  quantitee  of  houres  equales, 
that  is  to  seyn,  the  houres  of  the 
clokke,  hen  departed  by  15  degrees 
al-redy  in  the  hordure  of  thyn  Astro- 
5  labie,  as  wel  by  night  as  by  day, 
generaly  for  evere.  What  nedeth 
more  declaracioun?  Wher-for,  whan 
thee  list  to  know  how  nianye  houres 
of  the  clokke  ben  passed,  or  any  part 

10  of  any  of  thise  houres  that  ben 
passed,  or  elles  how  many  houres 
or  partie  of  houres  ben  to  come,  fro 
svvich  a  tyme  to  swich  a  tyme,  by 
day  or  by  nighte,  knovve  the  degree 

15  of  thy  Sonne,  and  ley  thy  label  on 
it;  turne  thy  riet  aboute  ioyntly  with 
thy  label,  and  with  the  point  of  it 
rekne  in  the  bordure  fro  the  Sonne 
aryse  un-to  the  same  place  ther  thou 

20  desirest,  by  day  as  by  nighte.  This 
coiiclusioun  wol  I  declare  in  the  laste 
chapitre  of  the  4  partie  of  this  tretis 
so  openly,  that  ther  shal  lakke  no 
worde    that    nedeth    to    the    declara- 

25  cioun.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  the  figure. 

1 2.  Special  declaracioun  of  the  houres 

of planetes. 

\_Specialis  declaracio  de  horis  plane- 
tar  um.'\ 

Understond  wel,  that  evere-mo, 
fro  the  arysing  of  the  sonne  til  it  go 
to  reste,  the  nadir  of  the  sonne  shal 
shewe  the  houre  of  the  planete,  and 
5  fro  that  tyme  forward  al  the  night  til 
the  Sonne  aryse;  than  shal  the  verrey 
degree  of  the  sonne  shewe  the  houre 
of  the  planete.  Ensample  as  thus. 
The  13  day  of  March  fil  up-on  a 
10  .Saterday  per  aventure,  and,  at  the 
arising  of  the  sonne,  I  fond  the 
secounde     degree    of    Aries    sitting 

2G 


up-on  myn  est  orisonte,  al-be-it  that 
it  was   but   lite;    than  fond   I   the   2 
degree  of  Libra,  nadir  of  my  sonne,    15 
dessending     on     my     west    orisonte, 
u|)-on  which  west  orisonte  every  day 
generally,  at  the  sonne  ariste,  entreth 
the  houre  of  any  planete,  after  which 
planete    the    day    bereth    his    name;    20 
and  endeth  in  the  nexte  stryk  of  the 
plate    under    the    forseide    west    ori- 
sonte;  and  evere,  as  the  sonne  climb- 
eth   uppere  and  uppere,  so  goth  his 
nadir  dounere  and  dounere,  teching   25 
by  swich  strykes  the  houres  of  plane- 
tes  by  ordere   as  they   sitten    in    the 
hevene.     The  first   houre   inerjual   of 
every   Satterday   is    to   Saturne;    and 
the   secounde,  to  Jupiter;    the  3,  to    30 
Mars;    the  4,  to  the  Sonne;    the  5,  to 
Venus;    the  6,  to   Mercurius;   the   7, 
to  the  Mone;    and  thanne  agayn,  the 
8  is    to    Saturne;    the  9,  to   lupiter; 
the     10,    to    Mars;     the     II,    to    the    35 
Sonne;    the   12,  to  Venus;    and  now 
is  my  sonne  gon  to  reste  as  for  that 
Setterday.       Thanne      sheweth      the 
verrey  degree  of  the  sonne  the  houre 
of  Mercuric  entring  under  my  west   ^o 
orisonte   at   eve;    and   next  him  suc- 
cedeth   the   Mone;    and   so   forth   by 
ordre,  planete  after  planete,  in  houre 
after  houre,  al  the  night  longe  til  the 
Sonne  aryse.     Now  ryseth  the  sonne   ^c 
that  Sonday  by  the  morwe;    antl  the 
nadir    of  the   sonne,  up-on   the  west 
orizonte,  sheweth  me  the  entring  of 
the    houre    of    the    forseide    sonne. 
And  in  this  maner  succedeth  planete    50 
under  planete,  fro  Saturne  un-to  the 
Mone,  and   fro  the  Mone  up  a-gayn 
to  Saturne,  houre  after  houre  generaly. 
And  thus  knowe  I  this  conclusioun. 
And   for   the    more   declaracioun,  lo    55 
here  the  figure. 

13.  7^1?  knowe  the  altitude  of  the 
Sonne  in  middcs  of  the  day,  that  is 
cleped  the  altitude  meridian. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  altitudinem  solis 
in  medio  diei,  que  vocatur  altitude 
vieridianaS\ 

Set  the  degree  of  the  sonne  up-on 


450 


A   TREATISE   ON   THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


the  lyne  meridional,  and  rikene  how 
many  degrees  of  almikanteras  ben 
by-tvvixe  thyn  est  orisonte  and  the 
5  degree  of  the  sonne.  And  tak  ther 
thyn  altitude  meridian;  this  is  to 
seyne,  the  heyest  of  the  sonne  as 
for  that  day.  So  maystow  knowe  in 
the  same  lyne,  the  heyest  cours  that 

lo  any  sterre  fix  climbetli  by  night;  this 
is  to  seyn,  that  whan  any  sterre  fix 
is  passed  the  lyne  meridional,  than 
by-ginneth  it  to  descende,  and  so 
doth  the   Sonne,     And  for  the  more 

15  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

14.  To  knozve  the  degree  of  the  sonne 
by  thy  riet,  for  a  maner  curio- 
sitee,  ^fc. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  gradutn  solis 
curiose.'\ 

Sek  bysily  with  thy  rewle  the  hey- 
est of  the  Sonne  in  midde  of  the  day; 
turne  thanne  thyn  Astrolabie,  and 
with  a  prikke  of  ink  niarke  the  nom- 
5  bre  of  that  same  altitude  in  the  lyne 
meridional.  Turne  thanne  thy  riet 
a-boute  til  thou  fynde  a  degree  of 
thy  zodiak  acording  with  the  prikke, 
this  is  to  seyn,  sittinge  on  the  prikke; 

10  and  in  sooth,  thou  shalt  finde  but  two 
degrees  in  al  the  zodiak  of  that  con- 
dicioun;  and  yit  .thilke  two  degrees 
ben  in  diverse  signes;  than  maistow 
lightly    by    the    sesoun    of    the    yere 

15  knowe  the  signe  in  whiche  that  is 
the  sonne.  And  for  the  more  decla- 
racioun, lo  here  thy  figure. 

15.    To   know    which    day   is   lyk   to 
which  day  as  of  lengthe,  dr^c. 

[Ad   cognoscendum    quales    dies    in 
longitudine  sunt  similes.'] 

Loke  whiche  degrees  ben  y-lyke 
fer  fro  the  hevedes  of  Cancer  and 
Capricorn  ;  and  lok,  whan  the  sonne 
is  in  any  of  thilke  degrees,  than  ben 
5  the  dayes  y-lyke  of  lengthe.  This  is 
to  seyn,  that  as  long  is  that  day  in 
that  monthe,  as  was  swich  a  day  in 
swich  a  month;    ther  varieth  but  lite. 


Also,  yif  thou  take  two  dayes  natu- 
raly  in  the  yer  y-lyke  fer  fro  eyther  10 
pointe  of  the  equinoxial  in  the  opposit 
parties,  than  as  long  is  the  day  artifi- 
cial of  that  on  day  as  is  the  night  of 
that  othere,  and  the  contrarie.  And 
for  the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  15 
figure. 

16.  This  chapitre  is  a  maner  declara- 
cioun to  conclusiouns  that  folwen. 

\_Illud  capitulutn  est  (juedam  declara- 
cio  ad  certas  conclusiones  seijuen- 
tes.] 

Understond  wel  that  thy  zodiak  is 
departid  in  two  halfe  cercles,  as  fro 
the  heved  of  Capricorne  un-to  the 
heved  of  Cancer;  and  agaynward  fro 
the  heved  of  Cancer  un-to  the  heved  5 
of  Capricorne.  The  heved  of  Capri- 
corne is  the  lowest  point,  wher-as 
the  Sonne  goth  in  winter  ;  and  the 
heved  of  Cancer  is  the  heyest  point, 
in  whiche  the  sonne  goth  in  somer.  10 
And  ther-for  understond  wel,  that 
any  two  degrees  that  ben  y-lyke  fer 
fro  any  of  thise  two  hevedes,  truste 
wel  that  thilke  two  degrees  ben  of 
y-lyke  declinacioun,  be  it  southward  15 
or  northward ;  and  the  dayes  of  hem 
ben  y-lyke  of  lengthe,  and  the  nightes 
also  ;  and  the  shadwes  y-lyke,  and 
the  altitudes  y-lyke  at  midday  for 
evere.  And  for  more  declaracioun,  20 
lo  here  thy  figure. 

17.  To  knowe  the  verrey  degree  of 
any  maner  sterre  straunge  or  un- 
straunge  after  his  longitude,  though 
he  be  indeterminat  in  thyn  Astrola- 
bie ;  solhly  to  the  trow  the,  thus  he 
shal  be  knozve. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  verum  gradum 
alicuius  stelle  aliene  secundum  eius 
lougitudinem,  quainvis  sit  indeter- 
minata  in  astrolabio;  veraciter  isto 
modo.] 

Tak  the  altitude  of  this  sterre  whan 
he  is  on  the  est  side  of  the  lyne  me- 
ridional, as  ney  as  thou  mayst  gesse; 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE  ASTROLABE.     PART  II. 


451 


and  tak  an  assendent  a-non  riglit  hy 
5  som  nianer  sterre  fix  which  that  tliuu 
knowcst;  and  for-gct  nat  the  altitude 
of  the  lirstc  sterre,  no  thyn  assendent. 
And  whan  that  this  is  don,  espye 
diligently  whan  this  same  firste  sterre 

10  passeth  any-thing  the  south  west- 
ward, and  hath  him  a-non  right  in 
the  same  noumhre  of  altitude  on  the 
west  side  of  this  lyne  meridional  as  he 
was  caught  on  the  est  side;  and  tak 

15  a  newe  assendent  a-non  right  by  som 
nianer  sterre  fixe  which  that  thou 
knowest ;  and  for-get  nat  this  sec- 
ounde  assendent.  And  whan  that 
this  is  don,  rikne  thanne  how  manye 

20  degrees  ben  by-twixe  the  firste  as- 
sendent and  the  seconde  assendent, 
and  rikne  wel  the  middel  degree 
by-twene  bothe  assendentes,  and  set 
thilke  middel  degree,  up-on  thin  est 

25  orisonte  ;  and  waite  thanne  what 
degree  that  sit  up-on  the  lyne 
meridional,  and  tak  ther  the  verrey 
degree  of  the  ecliptik  in  which  the 
sterre    stondeth    for    the    tyme.     For 

30  in  the  ecliptik  is  the  longitude  of  a 
celestial  body  rekened,  evene  fro  the 
heved  of  Aries  un-to  the  ende  of 
Pisces.  And  his  latitude  is  rikned 
after  the  quantite  of  his  declinacion, 

35  north  or  south  to-warde  the  poles 
of  this  world ;  as  thus.  Yif  it  be  of 
the  Sonne  or  of  any  fix  sterre,  rekene 
his  latitude  or  his  declinacioun  fro 
the  equinoxial  cercle  ;    and  yif  it  be 

40  of  a  planete,  rekne  than  the  quantitee 
of  his  latitude  fro  the  ecliptik  lyne. 
Al-be-it  so  that  fro  the  equinoxial 
may  the  declinacion  or  the  latitude 
of  any  body  celestial  be  rikned,  after 

45  the  site  north  or  south,  and  after  the 
quantitee  of  his  declinacion.  And 
right  so  may  the  latitude  or  the 
declinacion  of  any  Ijody  celestial, 
save  only  of  the  sonne,  after  his  site 

50  north  or  south,  and  after  the  quan- 
titee of  his  declinacioun  be  rekned 
fro  the  ecliptik  lyne  ;  fro  which  lyne 
alle  planetes  som  tyme  declynen 
north    or    south,  save    only   the    for- 

55  seide  Sonne.  .\nd  for  the  more  dec- 
laracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 


1 8.  To  knoiue  the  degrees  of  the  longi- 
tudes of  fixe  sterres  after  that  they 
ben  deteriitiuat  in  thin  .Istrolabie, 
yif  so  be  that  they  ben  treivly  set. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  gradns  longitudi- 
nis de stellisfixis  que detertninantiir 
in  astrolabio,  sicul  in  suis  locis 
recte  locentur.^ 

Set  the  centre  of  the  sterre  up-on 
the  lyne  meridional,  and  tak  keep 
of  thy  zodiak,  and  loke  what  degree 
of  any  signe  that  sit  on  the  same  lyne 
meridional  at  that  same  tyme,  and  5 
tak  the  degree  in  which  the  sterre 
standeth;  and  with  that  same  degree 
comth  that  same  sterre  un-to  that 
same  lyne  fro  the  orisonte.  And  for 
more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure.    10 

19.  To  k7ioive  with  which  degree  of 
the  zodiak  any  sterre  fixe  in  thyn 
Astrolabie  aryseth  up-on  the*  est 
orisonte,  althogh  his  dwelling  be  in 
a-nother  signe. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  cum  quibus grndi- 
bus  zodiaci  que  stella  fixa  in  astro- 
labio ascendit  super  orizontem 
orientalem,  quamvis  eius  statio  sit 
in  alio  signo.'] 

Set  the  centre  of  the  sterre  up-on 
the  est  orisonte,  and  loke  what  degree 
of  any  signe  that  sit  up-on  the  same 
orisonte  at  that  same  tyme.  And 
understond  wel,  that  with  that  same  5 
degree  aryseth  that  same  sterre;  and 
this  merveyllous  arysing  with  a  strange 
degree  in  another  signe  is  by-cause 
that  the  latitude  of  the  sterre  fix  is 
either  north  or  south  fro  the  equi-  10 
noxial.  IJut  sothly,  the  latitudes  of 
planetes  ben  comunly  rekned  fro  the 
ecliptik,  bi-cause  that  n(Mi  of  hem 
declineth  but  fewe  degrees  out  fro 
the  brede  of  the  zodiak.  And  tak  15 
good  keep  of  this  chapitre  of  arysing 
of  the  celestial  Ijodies;  for  truste  wel, 
that  neyther  nnme  ne  sterre  as  in 
oure  end)elif  orisonte  aryseth  with 
that  same  degree  of  his  longitude,  20 
save  in  o  cas;  and  that  is,  whan  they 
have  no  latitude  fro  the  ecliptik  lyne. 


452 


A  TREATISE   ON  THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


But  natheles,  som    tyme   is  everiche 
of   thise    planetes    under    the    same 
25  lyne.      And    for   more    declaracioun, 
lo  here  thy  figure. 

20.  To  knowe  (he  dedinacioun  of 
any  degree  in  the  zodiak  Jro  the 
equinoxial  cercle,  &"€. 

\^Ad  cognoscendutn  declinacionem  ali- 
cuius  gradus  in  zodiaco  a  circulo 
equinoctiali.'\ 

Set  the  degree  of  any  signe  up-on 
the  lyne  meridional,  and  rikne  his 
altitude  in  almikanteras  fro  the  est 
orizonte  up  to  the  same  degree  set 
5  in  the  forseide  lyne,  and  set  ther  a 
prikke.  Turne  up  thanne  thy  riet, 
and  set  the  heved  of  Aries  or  Libra 
in  the  same  meridional  lyne,  and  set 
ther   a-nother    prikke.      And   whan 

10  th^  this  is  don,  considere  the  alti- 
tuiies  of  hem  bothe;  for  sothly  the 
difference  of  thilke  altitudes  is  the 
declinacion  of  thilke  degree  fro 
the  equinoxial.      And  yif  so  be  that 

15  thilke  degree  be  northward  fro  the 
equinoxial,  than  is  his  declinacion 
north;  yif  it  be  southward,  than  is  it 
south.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun, lo  here  thy  figure. 

21.  To  knowe  for  what  latitude  in 
any  regioun  the  almikanteras  of 
any  table  ben  compouned. 

[Ad  cognoscendutn  pro  qua  latitudine 
in  aliqua  regione  almicantre  tabule 
mee  sunt  composite.^ 

Rikne  how  manye  degrees  of  al- 
mikanteras, in  the  meridional  lyne, 
be  fro  the  cercle  equinoxial  un-to  the 
senith;  or  elles  fro  the  pool  artik 
5  un-to  the  north  orisonte;  and  for  so 
gret  a  latitude  or  for  so  smal  a  lati- 
tude is  the  table  compouned.  And 
for  more  delaracion,  lo  here  thy 
figure. 

22.  To  knowe  in  special  the  latitude 
of  oure   countray,   I  tnene    after 


the  latitude  of  Oxenford,  and  the 
heighte  of  cure  pol. 

[Ad  cognoscendutn  specialiter  lati- 
tudmeiti  nostri  regioiiis,  scilicet 
latitudinetii  Oxotiie,  et  altitudinetn 
poli  nostri^ 

Understond  wel,  that  as  fer  is  the 
heved  of  Aries  or  Libra  in  the  equi- 
noxial from  oure  orisonte  as  is  the 
senith  from  the  pole  artik;  and  as 
hey  is  the  pol  artik  fro  the  orisonte,  5 
as  the  equinoxial  is  fer  fro  the  senith. 
I  prove  it  thus  by  the  latitude  of 
Oxenford.  Understond  wel,  that  the 
heyghte  of  oure  pool  artik  fro  oure 
north  orisonte  is  51  degrees  and  50  10 
minutes;  than  is  the  senith  from  oure 
pool  artik  38  degrees  and  10  minutes; 
than  is  the  equinoxial  from  oure  senith 
51  degrees  and  50  minutes;  than  is 
oure  south  orisonte  from  oure  equi-  15 
noxial  38  degrees  and  10  minutes. 
Understond  wel  this  rekning.  Also 
for-get  nat  that  the  senith  is  90  de- 
grees of  heyghte  fro  the  orisonte,  and 
oure  equinoxial  is  90  degrees  from  20 
oure  pool  artik.  Also  this  shorte 
rewle  is  soth,  that  the  latitude  of  any 
place  in  a  regioun  is  the  distance  fro 
the  senith  unto  the  equinoxial.  And 
for  more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  25 
figure. 

23.  To  prove  evidently  the  latitude 
of  any  place  itt  a  regioun,  by  the 
preve  of  the  heyghte  of  the  pol  artik 
in  that  same  place. 

[Ad  probandu/ti  evidenter  latitudi- 
nem  alicuius  loci  in  aliqua  regione, 
per  probacionem  altitudinis  de  polo 
artico  in  eodetn  loco.'\ 

In  some  winters  night,  whan  the 
firmament  is  clere  and  thikke-sterred, 
waite  a  tyme  til  that  any  sterre  fix  sit 
lyne-right  perpendicular  over  the  pol 
artik,  and  clepe  that  sterre  A.  And  5 
wayte  a-nother  sterre  that  sit  lyne- 
right  under  A,  and  under  the  pol, 
and  clepe  that  sterre  F.  And  under- 
stond wel,  that  F  is  nat  considered 
but  only  to  declare  that  A  sit  evene    10 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE   ASTROLABE.     PART  II. 


453 


overe  the  pool.  Tak  thanne  a-non 
right  the  altitude  of  A  from  the 
orisonte,  and  forget  it  nat.  Lat  A 
and  F  go  farwel  til  agayns  the  dawen- 

13  ing  a  gret  whyle;  and  come  thanne 
agayn,  and  abyd  til  that  A  is  evene 
under  the  pol  and  under  F;  for 
sothly,  than  wol  F  sitte  over  the  pool, 
and  A  wol  sitte  under  the  pool.    Tak 

20  than  eft-sones  the  altitude  of  A  from 
the  orisonte,  and  note  as  wel  his 
secounde  altitude  as  his  firste  alti- 
tude; and  whan  that  this  is  don, 
rikne  how  nianye   degrees  that  the 

25  firste  altitude  of  A  excedeth  his  sec- 
onde  altitude,  and  tak  half  thilke 
porcioun  that  is  exceded,  and  adde 
it  to  his  seconde  altitude;  and  tak 
thcr  the  elevacioun  of  thy  pool,  and 

30  eke  the  latitude  of  thy  regioun.  For 
thise  two  ben  of  a  nombre;  this  is  to 
seyn,  as  many  degrees  as  thy  pool  is 
elevat,  so  michel  is  the  latitude  of  the 
regioun.       Ensample    as    thus :    par 

35  aventure,  the  altitude  of  A  in  the 
evening  is  56  degrees  of  heyghte. 
Than  wol  his  seconde  altitude  or  the 
dawing  be  48;  that  is  8  lasse  than  56, 
that  was  his  firste  altitude  at  even. 

40  Take  thanne  the  half  of  8,  and  adde 
it  to  48,  that  was  his  seconde  alti- 
tude, and  than  hastow  52.  Now 
hastow  the  heyghte  of  thy  pol,  and 
the   latitude    of    the   regioun.      But 

45  understond  wel,  that  to  prove  this 
conclusioun  and  many  a-nother  fair 
conclusioun,  thou  most  have  a  plomet 
hanging  on  a  lyne  heyer  than  thin 
heved  on  a  perche;    and  thilke  lyne 

50  mot  hange  evene  perpendiculer  by- 
twixe  the  pool  and  thyn  eye;  and 
thanne  shaltow  seen  yif  A  sitte  evene 
over  the  pool  and  over  F  at  evene; 
and  also  yif  F  sitte  evene  over  the 

55  pool  and  over  A  or  day.  And  for 
more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

24.  Another  conclusioun  to  prove  the 
heyghte  of  the  pool  artik  fro  the 
orisonte. 

\_/llia  conclusio  ad  prohandum  alti- 
tudinem  de  polo  artico  ab  orizonteJ\ 


Tak  any  sterrc  fixe  that  nevcre  dis- 
sendeth  under  the  orisonte  in  thilke 
regioun,  and  considere  his  heyest 
altitude  and  his  lowest  altitude  fro 
the  orisonte;  and  make  a  nombre  of  5 
bothe  thise  altitudes.  Tak  thanne 
and  abate  half  that  nombre,  and  tak 
ther  the  elevacioun  of  the  pol  artik 
in  that  same  regioun.  And  for  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure.  10 

25.    A-nother    conclusioun    to  prove 
the  latitude  of  the  regioun,  S'c. 

\_Alia  conclusio  ad  prohandum   lati- 
tudinem  regionis.'\ 

Understond  wel  that  the  latitude 
of  any  place  in  a  regioun  is  verreyly 
the  space  by-twixe  the  senith  of  hem 
that  dwellen  there  and  the  equinoxial 
cerkle,  north  or  southe,  taking  the  5 
mesure  in  the  meridional  lyne,  as 
sheweth  in  the  almikanteras  of  thyn 
Astrolabie.  And  thilke  space  is  as 
moche  as  the  pool  artik  is  hey  in  the 
same  place  fro  the  orisonte.  And  10 
than  is  the  depressioun  of  the  pol 
antartik,  that  is  to  seyn,  than  is  the 
pol  antartik  by-nethe  the  orisonte, 
the  same  quantite  of  space,  neither 
more  ne  lasse.  Thanne,  yif  thow  15 
desire  to  knowe  this  latitude  of  the 
regioun,  tak  the  altitude  of  the  sonne 
in  the  middel  of  the  day,  whan  the 
Sonne  is  in  the  hevedes  of  Aries  or  of 
Libra;  (for  thanne  moeveth  the  sonne  20 
in  the  lyne  equinoxial) ;  and  abate 
the  nombre  of  that  same  sonnes  alti- 
tude out  of  90,  and  thanne  is  the 
remenaunt  of  the  noumbre  that  leveth 
the  latitude  of  the  regioun.  As  thus  :  25 
I  suppose  that  the  sonne  is  thilke  day 
at  noon  38  degrees  and  10  minutes 
of  heyghte.  Abate  thanne  thise  de- 
grees and  minutes  out  of  90 ;  so  leveth 
there  51  degrees  and  50  minutes,  the  2° 
latitude.  I  sey  nat  this  but  for  en- 
sample;  for  wel  I  wot  the  latitude  of 
Oxenforde  is  certein  minutes  lasse,  as 
I  mighte  jirove.  Now  yif  so  be  that 
thee  semeth  to  long  a  taryinge,  to  35 
abyde  til  that  the  sonne  be  in  the 
hevedes  of  Aries  or  of  Libra,  thanne 


454 


A   TREATISE   ON   THE  ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


waite  whan  the  sonne  is  in  any  other 
degree  of  the  zodiak,  and  considere 

40  the  degree  of  his  dechnacion  fro  the 
equinoxial  lyne;  and  yif  it  so  be  that 
the  sonnes  declinacion  be  northward 
fro  the  equinoxial,  abate  thanne  fro 
the  sonnes  altitude  at  noon  the  nombire 

45  of  his  declinacion,  and  thanne  hastow 
the  heyghte  of  the  hsvedes  of  Aries 
and  Libra.  As  thus :  my  sonne  is, 
par  aventure,  in  the  firste  degre  of 
Leoun,  58  degrees  and  10  minutes  of 

50  heyghte  at  noon  and  his  declinacion 
is  almost  20  degrees  northward  fro 
the  equinoxial;  abate  thanne  thilke 
20  degrees  of  declinacion  out  of  the 
altitude  at  noon,  than  leveth  thee  38 

55  degrees  and  odde  minutes;  lo  ther 
the  heved  of  Aries  or  Libra,  and  thyn 
equinoxial  in  that  regioun.  Also  yif 
so  be  that  the  sonnes  declinacioun  be 
southward   fro    the    equinoxial,  adde 

60  thanne  thilke  declinacion  to  the  alti- 
tude of  the  Sonne  at  noon;  and  tak 
ther  the  hevedes  of  Aries  and  Libra, 
and  thyn  equinoxial.  Abate  thanne 
the  heyghte  of  the  equinoxial  out  of 

65  90  degrees,  and  thanne  leveth  there 
the  distans  of  the  pole,  51  degrees 
and  50  minutes,  of  that  regioun  fro 
the  equinoxial.  Or  elles,  yif  thee 
lest,  take  the  heyest  altitude  fro  the 

70  equinoxial  of  any  sterre  fix  that  thou 
knowest,  and  tak  his  nethere  elonga- 
cioun  lengthing  fro  the  same  equi- 
noxial lyne,  and  wirke  in  the  maner 
forseid.     And  for   more  declaracion, 

75  lo  here  thy  figure. 

26.    Declaracioun   of  the   assensioim 
of  signes,  &-=f. 

\Declaracio  de  ascensione  signortcin.'] 

The  excellence  of  the  spere  solide, 
amonges  other  noble  conclusiouns, 
sheweth  manifeste  the  diverse  assen- 
ciouns  of  signes  in  diverse  places,  as 
5  wel  in  the  righte  cercle  as  in  the 
embelif  cercle.  Thise  auctours  wryten 
that  thilke  signe  is  cleped  of  right 
ascensioun,  with  which  more  part  of 
the  cercle  equinoxial  and  lasse  part 
10  of  the  zodiak  ascendeth;   and  thilke 


signe  assendeth  embelif,  with  whiche 
lasse  part  of  the  equinoxial  and  more 
part  of  the  zodiak  assendeth.  Lerther- 
over  they  seyn,  that  in  thilke  cuntrey 
whereas  the  senith  of  hem  thatdvvellen  15 
there  is  in  the  equinoxial  lyne,  and 
her  orisonte  passing  by  the  poles  of 
this  worlde,  thilke  folke  han  this 
right  cercle  and  the  right  orisonte; 
and  evere-mo  the  arch  of  the  day  20 
and  the  arch  of  the  night  is  ther 
y-like  long,  and  the  sonne  twyes 
every  yeer  passinge  thorow  the  se- 
nith of  her  heved;  and  two  someres 
and  two  winteres  in  a  yeer  han  this  25 
forseide  poeple.  And  the  almikan- 
teras  in  her  Astrolabies  ben  streighte 
as  a  lyne,  so  as  sheweth  in  this  figure. 
The  utilite  to  knowe  the  assenciouns 
in  the  righte  cercle  is  this  :  truste  wel  30 
that  by  mediacioun  of  thilke  assen- 
ciouns thise  astrologiens,  by  hir  tables 
and  hir  instrumentz,  knowen  verreyly 
the  assencioun  of  every  degree  and 
minut  in  al  the  zodiak,  as  shal  be  35 
shewed.  And  uota,  that  this  forseid 
righte  orisonte,  that  is  cleped  orison 
rectum,  divydeth  the  equinoxial  in-to 
right  angles ;  and  the  embelif  orisonte, 
wher-as  the  pol  is  enhaused  up-on  40 
the  orisonte,  overkerveth  the  equi- 
noxial in  embelif  angles,  as  sheweth 
in  the  figure.  And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

27.  This  is  the  conclusion  to  knowe 
the  assenciouns  of  signes  in  the 
right  cercle,  that  is,  circulus  di- 
rectus,  (Sr'r. 

S^^Ad  cognoscendum  ascencioncs  sig- 
nortim  in  recto  circulo,  qui  vocatur 
circulus  directus.~\ 

Set  the  heved  of  what  signe  thee 
liste  to  knowe  his  assending  in  the 
right  cercle  up-on  the  lyne  meri- 
dional; and  waite  wher  thyn  almury 
toucheth  the  bordure,  and  set  ther  a  5 
prikke.  Turne  thanne  thy  riet  west- 
ward til  that  the  ende  of  the  forseide 
signe  sitte  up-on  the  meridional  lyne; 
and  eft-sones  waite  wher  thyn  almury 
toucheth   the  bordure,  and  set   ther    10 


A  TREATISE  ON   THE  ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


455 


another  prikke.  Rikne  thanne  the 
nombre  of  degrees  in  the  burdure 
by-twixe  buthe  prikkes,  aii<l  tak  the 
assencioun  of  tlie  signc  in  the  right 
15  cercle.  And  thus  niaystow  wyrke 
with  every  porcioun  of  thy  zodiak, 
&c.  And  for  the  more  declaracioun, 
lo  here  thy  figure. 

28.  To  kiiowe  the  assencions  of  signes 
in  the  einbelif  cercle  in  every  regioun, 
J  mene,  in  circulo  obliquo. 

\^Ad  cognoscendutn  ascenciones  sig- 
noruin  in  circulo  obliquo,  in  omni 
regione.'\ 

Set  the  heved  of  the  signe  which 
as  thee  hst  to  knowe  his  ascensioun 
up-on  the  est  orisonte,  and  waite 
wher  thyn  ahnury  toucheth  the  bor- 
5  dure,  and  set  ther  a  prikke.  Turne 
thanne  thy  riet  upward  til  that  the 
ende  of  the  same  signe  sitte  up-on 
the  est  orisonte,  and  waite  eft-sones 
wher   as   thyn   almury  toucheth   the 

10  Ijordure,  and  set  ther  a-nother  prikke. 
Rikne  thanne  the  noumbre  of  degrees 
in  the  bordure  by-twixe  bothe  prikkes, 
anci  tak  ther  the  assencioun  of  the 
signe    in   the    embehf   cercle.      And 

15  understond  wel,  that  alle  signes  in 
thy  zodiak,  fro  the  heved  of  Aries 
unto  the  ende  of  Virgo,  ben  cleped 
signes  of  the  north  fro  the  equinoxial; 
and  these  signes  arysen  by-twixe  the 

20  verrey  est  and  the  verrey  north  in  oure 
orisonte  generaly  for  evere.  And  alle 
signes  fro  the  heved  of  Libra  un-to 
the  ende  of  Pisces  ben  cleped  signes 
of  the  south  fro  the  equinoxial;    and 

25  thise  signes  arysen  ever-mo  by-twixe 
the  verrey  est  and  the  verrey  south 
in  oure  orisonte.  Also  every  signe 
by-twixe  the  heved  of  Capricorne 
un-to  the  ende  of  Geminis  aryseth  on 

30  oure  orisonte  in  lasse  than  two  houres 
equales;  and  thise  same  signes,  fro 
the  heved  of  Capricorne  un-to  the 
ende  of  Geminis,  ben  cleped  '  tortuos 
signes '  or  '  croked   signes,'   for   they 

35  arisen  embelif  on  oure  orisonte;  and 
thise  crokede  signes  ben  obedient  to 
tlic  signes  that  ben  of   right  assen- 


cioun. The  signes  of  right  assencioun 
ben  fro  the  heved  of  C  ancer  to  the 
ende  of  Sagittare;  and  thise  signes  40 
arysen  more  upright,  and  they  ben 
called  eke  sovereyn  signes;  and 
everich  of  hem  aryseth  in  more  space 
than  in  two  houres.  Of  which  signes, 
Gemini  obeyeth  to  Cancer;  and  45 
Taurus  to  Leo;  Aries  to  Virgo; 
Pisces  to  Libra;  Aquarius  to  .Scor- 
pioun;  and  Capricorne  to  Sagittare. 
And  thus  ever-mo  two  signes,  that 
ben  y-lyke  fer  fro  the  heved  of  Caj^ri-  50 
corne,  obeyen  everich  of  hem  til 
other.  And  for  more  declaracioun, 
lo  here  the  figure. 

29.  7^0  knoxvc  iustly  the  foure  quar- 
ters of  the  world y  as  est,  7vest,  north, 
and  sowth. 

[Ad  cognoscendum  evidcnter  quattior 
partes  mundi,  scilicet,  orietitem, 
austrum,  aquilonem,  ei  occiden- 
tetn.'] 

Take  the  altitude  of  thy  sonne 
whan  thee  list,  and  note  wel  the 
quarter  of  the  world  in  which  the 
Sonne  is  for  the  tyme  by  the  azimutz. 
Turne  thanne  thyn  Astrolabie,  and  5 
set  the  degree  of  the  sonne  in  the 
almikanteras  of  his  altitude,  on  thilke 
side  that  the  sonne  stant,  as  is  the 
manere  in  taking  of  houres;  and  ley 
thy  label  on  the  degree  of  the  sonne,  10 
and  rikene  how  many  degrees  of  the 
bordure  ben  by-twixe  the  lyne  merid- 
ional and  the  point  of  thy  label; 
and  i;iote  wel  that  noumbre.  Turne 
thanne  a-gayn  thyn  Astrolabie,  and  15 
set  the  point  of  thy  gret  re«le,  ther 
thou  tak  est  thyne  altitudes,  up-on  as 
many  degrees  in  his  Iiordure  fro  his 
meridional  as  was  the  point  of  thy 
label  fro  the  lyne  meridional  on  the  20 
wombe-syde.  Tak  thanne  thyn  Astro- 
labie with  bothe  handes  sadly  and 
slely,  and  lat  the  sonne  shyne  thorow 
bothe  holes  of  thy  rewle;  and  sleyly, 
in  thilke  shyninge,  lat  thyn  Astrolabie  25 
couch  adoun  evene  up-on  a  smothe 
grond,  and  thanne  vvol  the  verrey 
lyne    meridional    of   thyn   Astrolabie 


456 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


lye  evene  south,  and  the  est  lyne  wole 
30  lye  est,  and  the  west  lyne  west,  and 
north  lyne  north,  so  that  thou  werke 
softly  and  avisely  in  the  couching; 
and  thus  hastow  the  4  quarters  of  the 
firmament.  And  for  the  more  decla- 
35  racioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

30.  To  knoiue  the  altitude  of  planetes 
fro  the  wey  of  the  son?te,  whether  so 
they  be  north  or  south  fro  the  for- 
seide  wey. 

[Ad cognoscendum  altitudinem  plane- 
tarum  a  cursu  solis,  utrum  sint  in 
parte  australi  vel  boreali  a  cursu 
supra  dicto.^ 

Lok  whan  that  a  planete  is  in  the 
lyne  meridional,  yif  that  hir  altitude 
be  of  the  same  heyghte  that  is  the 
degree  of  the  sonne  for  that  day,  and 
5  than  is  the  planete  in  the  verrey  wey 
of  the  Sonne,  and  hath  no  latitude. 
And  yif  the  altitude  of  the  planete  be 
heyere  than  the  degree  of  the  sonne, 
than  is  the  planete  north  fro  the  wey 

10  of  the  sonne  swich  a  quantite  of  lati- 
tude as  sheweth  by  thyn  almikanteras. 
And  yif  the  altitude  of  the  planete  be 
lasse  than  the  degree  of  the  sonne, 
thanne  is  the  planete   south   fro  the 

15  wey  of  the  sonne  swich  a  quantite  of 
latitude  as  sheweth  by  thyn  almikan- 
teras. This  is  to  seyn,  fro  the  wey 
wher-as  the  sonne  wente  thilke  day, 
but  nat  from  the  wey  of  the  sonne  in 

20  every  place  of  the  zodiak.  And  for 
the  more  declaracioun,  lo  here  the 
figure.  «w 

31.  To  knowe  the  senith  of  the  arys- 
ing  of  the  sonne,  this  is  to  seyn, 
the  partie  of  the  orisonte  iti  -which 
that  the  sonne  aryseth. 

\_Ad  cognoscetidum  signum  de  ortu 
solis,  scilicet,  illani  partem  orientis 
in  qua  oritur  sol.^ 

Thou  most  first  considere  that  the 

sonne  aryseth   nat  al-wey  verrey  est, 

but  some  tyme  by  north   the  est,  and 

some  tyme  by  southe  the  est.    Sothly, 

5      the  sonne    aryseth    never-mo   verrey 


est  in  oure  orisonte,  but  he  be  in  the 
heved  of  Aries  or  Libra.  Now  is 
thyn  orisonte  departed  in  24  parties 
by  thy  azimutz,  in  significacion  of  24 
partiez  of  the  world;  al-be-it  so  that  10 
shipmen  rikne  thilke  partiez  in  32. 
Thanne  is  ther  no  more  but  waite  in 
which  azimut  that  thy  sonne  entreth 
at  his  arysing;  and  take  ther  the 
senith  of  the  arysing  of  the  sonne.  15 
The  manere  of  the  devisioun  of  thyn 
Astrolabie  is  this;  I  mene  as  in  this 
cas.  First  is  it  devided  in  4  plages 
principalx  with  the  lyne  that  goth 
from  est  to  west,  and  than  with  20 
a-nother  lyne  that  goth  fro  south  to 
north.  Than  is  it  devided  in  smale 
partiez  of  azimutz,  as  est,  and  est  by 
southe,  whereas  is  the  firste  azimut 
above  the  est  lyne;  and  so  forth,  fro  25 
partie  to  partie,  til  that  thou  come 
agayn  un-to  the  est  lyne.  Thus 
maistow  understond  also  the  senith  of 
any  sterre,  in  which  partie  he  ryseth, 
&c.  And  for  the  more  declaracion,  30 
lo  here  the  figure. 


32.  To  knowe  in  which  partie  of  the 
firmametit  is  the  coniunccioun. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  in  qua  parte 
firmamenti  sunt  coniuncciones 
solis  et  lune.'] 

Considere  the  tyme  of  the  coniunc- 
cion  by  thy  kalender,  as  thus;  lok 
how  many  houres  thilke  coniunccion 
is  fro  the  midday  of  the  day  pre- 
cedent, as  sheweth  by  the  canoun  of  5 
thy  kalender.  Rikne  thanne  thilke 
nombre  of  houres  in  the  bordureofthyn 
Astrolabie,  as  thou  art  wont  to  do  in 
knowing  of  the  houres  of  the  day  or 
of  the  night;  and  ley  thy  label  over  10 
the  degree  of  the  sonne;  and  thanne 
wol  the  point  of  thy  label  sitte  up-on 
the  hour  of  the  coniunccion.  Loke 
thanne  in  which  azimut  the  degree 
of  thy  Sonne  sitteth,  and  in  that  15 
partie  of  the  firmament  is  the  con- 
iunccioun. And  for  the  more  decla- 
racioun, lo  here  thy  figure. 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE  ASTROLABE.     PART  II. 


457 


33.  To  knowe  the  senilh  of  the  alti- 

tude of  the  Sonne,  S'c. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  signa  de  altitudine 

so/is.] 

This  is  no  more  to  seyn  but  any 
tyme  of  the  day  tak  the  altitude  of 
the  Sonne;  and  by  the  aziniut  in 
which  he  stondeth,  niaystou  seen  in 
5  which  partie  of  the  firmament  he  is. 
And  in  the  same  wyse  maystou  seen, 
by  the  night,  of  any  sterre,  whether 
the  sterre  sitte  est  or  west  or  north, 
or  any  partie  by-twene,  after  the 
10  name  of  the  azimut  in  which  is  the 
sterre.  And  for  the  more  declara- 
cioun,  lo  here  the  figure. 

34.  To  knowe  sothly  the  degree  of  the 
longitude  of  the  mone,  or  of  any 
planete  that  hath  no  latitude  for  the 
tyme  fro  the  ecliptik  lyne. 

\_Ad  cognoscendum  veraciter  gradum 
de  longitudine  lune,  vet  aliciiins 
planete  qui  nan  habet  longitudineni 
pro  tempore  causante  linea  eclip- 
tic a. '] 

Tak  the  altitude  of  the  mone,  and 
rikne  thyn  altitude  up  among  thyne 
almikanteras  on  which  syde  that  the 
mone  stande;  and  set  there  a  prikke. 
5  Tak  thenne  anon-right,  up-on  the 
mones  syde,  the  altitude  of  any  sterre 
fix  which  that  thou  knowest,  and  set 
his  centre  up-on  his  altitude  among 
thyn  almikanteras  ther  the  sterre  is 

10  founde.  Waite  thanne  which  degree 
of  the  zodiak  toucheth  the  prikke  of 
the  altitude  of  the  mone,  and  tak 
ther  the  degree  in  which  the  mone 
standcth.     This  conclusioun  is  verrey 

15  soth,  yif  the  sterres  in  thyi,  Astrolaljie 
stonden  after  the  trowthe;  of  comune, 
tretis  of  Astrolabie  ne  make  non  ex- 
cepcioun  whether  the  mone  have 
latitude,  or  non;    nc  on  whether  syde 

20  of  the  mone  the  altitude  of  the  sterre 
fix  be  taken.  And  nota,  that  yif  the 
mone  shewe  himself  by  light  of  day, 
than  maystow  wyrke  this  same  con- 
clusioun by  the  sonne,  as  wel  as  by 


the    fix    sterre.      And    for    the    more    25 
declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

35.  This  is  the  workinge  of  the  con- 
clusioun, to  knowe  yif  that  any 
planete  be  directe  or  retrograde. 

\_I/ec  conclusio  operatur  ad  cognos- 
cendum si  aliijua  planeta  sit  di- 
recta  vel  retrograda.'\ 

Tak  the  altitude  of  any  sterre  that 
is  cleped  a  planete,  and  note  it  wel. 
And  tak  eek  anon  the  altitude  of  any 
sterre  fix  that  thou  knowest,  and  note 
it  wel  also.  Come  thanne  agayn  the  5 
thridde  or  the  ferthe  night  next  fol- 
wing;  for  thanne  shaltow  aperceyve 
wel  the  moeving  of  a  planete,  whether 
so  he  moeve  forthward  or  bakward. 
Awaite  wel  thanne  whan  that  thy  'o 
sterre  fix  is  in  the  same  altitude  that 
she  was  whan  thou  toke  hir  firste 
altitude;  and  tak  than  eftsones  the 
altitude  of  the  forseide  planete,  and 
note  it  wel.  For  trust  wel,  yif  so  be  15 
that  the  planete  be  on  the  right  syde 
of  the  meridional  lyne,  so  that  his 
seconde  altitude  be  lasse  than  his 
firste  altitude  was,  thanne  is  the 
planete  directe.  And  yif  he  be  on  20 
the  west  syde  in  that  condicion, 
thanne  is  he  retrograd.  And  yif  so 
be  that  this  planete  be  up-on  the  est 
syde  whan  his  altitude  is  taken,  so 
that  his  secounde  altitude  be  more  25 
than  his  firste  altitude,  thanne  is  he 
retrograde,  and  yif  he  be  on  the  west 
syde,  than  is  he  directe.  But  the  con- 
trarie  of  thise  parties  is  of  the  cours 
of  the  mone;  for  sothly,  the  mone  3° 
moeveth  the  contrarie  from  othere 
planetes  as  in  hir  episicle,  but  in  non 
other  mancre.  And  for  the  more 
declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

36.  The  conclusiouns  of  equaciouns 
of  houses,  after  the  Astrolabie,  dfc. 

l^Conclusio  de  equacione  domorum.^ 

Set  the  by-ginning  of  the  degree 
that  assendeth  up-on  the  ende  of  the 
8  houre  inetjual;  thanne  wol  the  by- 
ginning  of  the  2  hous  sitte  up-on  the 


458 


A   TREATISE   ON   THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


5  lyne  of  midnight.  Remeve  thanne 
the  degree  that  assendeth,  and  set 
him  on  the  ende  of  the  lo  hour  in- 
equal;  and  thanne  wol  the  bygin- 
ning  of  the  3  hous  sitte  up-on  the 
10  midnight  lyne.  Bring  up  agayn  the 
same  degree  that  assendeth  first,  and 
set  him  up-on  the  orisonte;  and 
thanne  wol  the  be-ginning  of  the  4 
hous  sitte  up-on  the  lyne  of  midnight. 
15  Tak  thanne  the  nadir  of  the  degree 
that  first  assendeth,  and  set  him  on 
the  ende  of  the  2  houre  inequal;  and 
thanne  wol  the  by-ginning  of  the  5 
hous  sitte  up-on  the  lyne  of  mid- 
20  night;  set  thanne  the  nadir  of  the 
assendent  on  the  ende  of  the  4  houre, 
than  wol  the  byginning  of  the  6  house 
sitte  on  the  midnight  lyne.  The  by- 
ginning  of  the  7  hous  is  nadir  of  the 
25  assendent,  and  the  byginning  of  the 
8  hous  is  nadir  of  the  2;  and  the  by- 
ginning of  the  9  hous  is  nadir  of  the 
3;  and  the  by-ginning  of  the  10  hous 
is  the  nadir  of  the  4;  and  the  bygin- 
30  ning  of  the  1 1  hous  is  nadir  of  the  5 ; 
and  the  byginning  of  the  12  hous  is 
nadir  of  the  6.  And  for  the  more 
declaracion,  lo  here  the  figure. 

37.   A-nother  manere   of  equaciouns 
of  houses  by  the  Astrolabie. 

\_De  aliqua  forma  equacionis  domo- 
rum  secundum  astrolahuim.'\ 

Tak  thyn  assendent,  and  thanne 
hastow  thy  4  angles;  for  wel  thou 
wost  that  the  opposit  of  thyn  assend- 
ent, that  is  to  seyn,  thy  by-giuning  of 
5  the  7  hous,  sit  up-on  the  west  ori- 
zonte;  and  the  byginning  of  the  10 
hous  sit  up-on  the  lyne  meridional; 
and  his  opposit  up-on  the  lyne  of 
midnight.     Thanne  ley  thy  label  over 

10  the  degree  that  assendeth,  and  rekne 
fro  the  point  of  thy  label  alle  the 
degrees  in  the  bordure,  til  thou  come 
to  •the  meridional  lyne;  and  departe 
alle  thilke  degrees  in  3  evene  parties, 

15  and  take  the  evene  equacion  of  3; 
for  ley  thy  label  over  everich  of  3 
parties,  and  than  maistow  see  by  thy 
label  in  which  degree  of  the  zodiak 


is  the  by-ginninij  of  everich  of  thise 
same  houses  fro  the  assendent :  that  20 
is  to  seyn,  the  beginning  of  the  12 
house  next  above  thyn  assendent; 
and  thanne  the  beginning  of  the  li 
house;  and  thanne  the  10,  up-on  the 
meridional  lyne;  as  I  first  seide.  25 
The  same  wyse  wirke  thou  fro  the 
assendent  doun  to  the  lyne  of  mid- 
night; and  thanne  thus  hastow  other 
3  houses,  that  is  to  seyn,  the  bygin- 
ning of  the  2,  and  the  3,  and  the  4  30 
houses;  thanne  is  the  nadir  of  thise 
3  houses  the  by-ginning  of  the  3 
houses  that  folwen.  And  for  the 
more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

38.    To  finde  the  lyne  rnerydional  to 
dwelle  fix  in  any  certein  place. 

\^Ad inveniendum  lineam  meridiona- 
lem  per  subtiles  operaciones.'\ 

Tak  a  rond  plate  of  metal;  for 
warping,  the  brodere  the  bettre;  and 
malce  ther-upon  a  iust  compas,  a  lite 
with-in  the  bordure;  and  ley  this 
ronde  plate  up-on  an  evene  grond,  or  5 
on  an  evene  ston,  or  on  an  evene 
stok  fix  in  the  gronde;  and  ley  it 
even  by  a  level.  And  in  centre  of  the 
compas  stike  an  evene  pin  or  a  wyr 
upright;  the  sniallere  the  betere.  Set  10 
thy  pin  by  a  plom-revvle  evene  up- 
right; and  let  this  pin  be  no  lengere 
than  a  quarter  of  the  diametre  of  thy 
compas,  fro  the  centre.  And  waite 
bisily,  aboute  10  or  11  of  the  clokke  15 
and  whan  the  sonne  shyneth,  whan 
the  shadwe  of  the  pin  entreth  any- 
thing with-in  the  cercle  of  thy  plate 
an  heer-mele,  and  mark  ther  a  prikke 
with  inke.  Abyde  thanne  stille  wait-  20 
ing  on  the  sonne  after  i  of  the  clokke, 
til  that  the  schadwe  of  the  wyr  or  of 
the  pin  passe  ony-thing  out  of  the 
cercle  of  the  compas,  be  it  never  so 
lyte;  and  set  ther  a-nother  prikke  25 
of  inke.  Take  than  a  compas,  and 
mesure  evene  the  middel  by-twixe 
bothe  prikkes;  and  set  ther  a  prikke. 
Take  thanne  a  rewle,  and  draw  a 
stryke,  evene  a-lyne  fro  the  pin  un-to  30 
the  middel  prikke;   and  tak  ther  thy 


A  TREATISE  ON   THE   ASTROLABE.     PART  II. 


459 


lyne  meridional  fur  evere-mo,  as  in 
that  same  place.  And  yif  thow  drawc 
a  crus-lyne  over-thwart  the  conij^as, 
35  iustly  over  the  lyne  meridional,  than 
hastow  est  and  west  and  south;  and, 
par  consequence,  than  tlie  natlir  of  the 
south  lyne  is  the  north  lyne.  And  for 
more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy  figure. 

39.  Descripcion  of  the  tneridional 
lyne,  of  longitudes,  and  latitudes 
of  citees  and  to7vnes  from  on  to 
a-nother  of  clymatz. 

This  lyne  meridional  is  but  a  maner 
descripcion  of  lyne  imagined,  that 
passeth  upon  the  poles  of  this  world 
and  by  the  senith  of  cure  heved.  And 
5  hit  is  y-cleped  the  lyne  meridional; 
for  in  what  place  that  any  maner  man 
is  at  any  tyme  of  the  yeer,  whan  that 
the  Sonne  by  moeving  of  the  firma- 
ment Cometh  to  his  verrey  meridian 

10  place,  than  is  hit  verrey  midday,  that 
we  clepen  oure  noon,  as  to  thilke 
man;  and  therfore  is  it  cleped  the 
lyne  of  midday.  And  nota,  for  ever- 
mo,  of  2  citees  or  of  2  tounes,  of 

15  whiche  that  o  toun  aprocheth  more 
toward  the  est  than  doth  that  other 
toun,  truste  wel  that  thilke  tounes  han 
diverse  meridians.  Nota  also,  that 
the  arch  of  the  equinoxial,  that  is  con- 

20  teyned  or  bounded  by-twixe  the  2 
meridians,  is  cleped  the  longitude  of 
the  toun.  And  yif  so  be  that  two 
tounes  have  y-lyke  meridian,  or  oon 
meridian,  than  is  the  distance  of  hem 

25  bothe  y-lyke  fer  fro  the  est;  and  the 
contrarie.  And  in  this  manere  they 
chaunge  nat  her  meridian,  but  sothly 
they  chaungen  her  almikanteras;  for 
the  enhausing  of  the  pool  and  the  dis- 

30  tance  of  the  Sonne.  The  longitude 
of  a  clymat  is  a  lyne  imagined  fro  est 
to  west,  y-lyke  distant  by-twene  them 
alle.  The  latitude  of  a  clymat  is  a 
lyne  imagined  from  north  to  south  the 

35  space  of  the  erthe,  fro  the  byginning 
of  the  firste  clymat  unto  the  verrey 
ende  of  the  same  climat,  evene  directe 
agayns  the  pole  artik.  Thus  seyn 
some  auctours;   and   somme  of  hem 


seyn  that  yif  men  clepen  the  latitude,  40 
thay  mene  the  arch  meridian  that  is 
contiened  or  intercept  by-twixe  the 
senith  and  the  equinoxial.  Thanne 
sey  they  that  the  distaunce  fro  tiie 
equinoxial  unto  the  ende  of  a  clymat,  45 
evene  agayns  the  pole  artyk,  is  the 
latitude  of  a  clymat  for  suthe.  And 
for  more  declaracioun,  lo  here  thy 
figure. 

40.  To  knowe  with  which  degree  of 
the  zodiak  that  any  plancte  assendith 
on  the  orisonte,  whether  so  that  his 
latitude  be  north  or  south. 

Knowe  by  thyn  almenak  the  de- 
gree of  the  ecliptik  of  any  signe  in 
which  that  the  planete  is  rekned  for 
to  be,  and  that  is  cleped  the  degree 
of  his  longitude;  and  knowe  also  the  5 
degree  of  his  latitude  fro  the  ecliptik, 
north  or  south.  And  by  thise  sam- 
ples folwinge  in  special,  maystow 
wirke  for  sothe  in  every  signe  of  the 
zodiak.  The  degree  of  the  longitude,  10 
par  aventure,  of  Venus  or  of  another 
planete,  was  6  of  Capricorne,  and  the 
latitude  of  him  was  northward  2  de- 
grees fro  the  ecliptik  lyne.  I  tok  a 
subtil  compas,  and  cleped  that  oon  15 
poynt  of  my  compas  A,  and  that  other 
poynt  V.  Than  tok  I  the  point  of  A, 
and  set  it  in  the  ecliptik  lyne  evene 
in  my  zodiak,  in  the  degree  of  the 
longitude  of  Venus,  that  is  to  seyn,  20 
in  the  6  degree  of  Capricorne;  and 
thanne  sette  I  the  point  of  F  upward 
in  the  same  signe,  bycause  that  the 
latitude  was  north,  up-on  the  latitude 
of  Venus,  that  is  to  seyn,  in  the  6  25 
degree  fro  the  heved  of  Capricorne; 
and  thus  have  I  2  degrees  by-twixe 
my  two  prikkes.  Than  leide  I  doun 
softely  my  compas,  and  sette  the  de- 
gree of  the  longitude  up-on  the  ori-  30 
sonte;  tho  tok  I  and  wexede  my  laliel 
in  maner  of  a  peyre  tables  to  rcsceyve 
distinctly  the  prikkes  of  my  compas. 
Tho  tok  I  this  forseide  label,  and  leide 
it  fix  over  the  degree  of  my  longitude;  35 
tho  tok  I  up  my  compas,  and  sette  the 
point  of  A  in  the  wex  on  my  label,  as 


460 


A  TREATISE   ON   THE  ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


evene  as  I  coude  gesse  over  the  eclip- 
tik  lyne,  in  the  ende  of  the  longitude; 

40  and  sette  the  point  of  F  endlang  in  my 
label  up-on  the  space  of  the  latitude, 
inwarde  and  over  the  zodiak,  that  is 
to  seyn,  north-ward  fro  the  ecliptik. 
Than  leide  I  doun  my  compas,  and 

45  lokede  wel  in  the  wey  upon  the  prikke 
of  A  and  of  F;  tho  turned  I  my  riet 
til  that  the  prikke  of  F  sat  up-on  the 
orisonte;  than  saw  I  wel  that  the 
body   of  Venus,  in   hir  latitude  of  2 

50  degrees  septentrionalis,  assended,  in 
the  ende  of  the  6  degree,  in  the  heved 
of  Capricorne.  And  nota,  that  in  the 
same  maner  maistow  wirke  with  any 
latitude  septentrional  in  alle  signes; 

55  but  sothly  the  latitude  meridional  of  a 
planete  in  Capricorne  may  not  be  take, 
by-cause  of  the  litel  space  by-twixe  the 
ecliptik  and  the  bordure  of  the  As- 
trolabie;     but   sothly,   in   alle    other 

60  signes  it  may. 

Also  the  degree,  par  aventure,  of 
luppiter  or  of  a-nother  planete,  was 
in  the  first  degree  of  Pisces  in  longi- 
tude, and  his  latitude  was  3  degrees 

65  meridional;  tho  tok  I  the  point  of 
A,  and  sette  it  in  the  firste  degree 
of  Pisces  on  the  ecliptik,  and.  thanne 
sette  I  the  point  of  F  dounward  in 
the    same    signe,    by-cause    that    the 

70  latitude  was  south  3  degrees,  that  is 
to  seyn,  fro  the  heved  of  Pisces;  and 
thus  have  I  3  degrees  by-twixe  bothe 
prikkes;  thanne  sette  I  the  degree 
of  the  longitude  up-on  the  orisonte. 

75  Tho  tok  I  my  label,  and  leide  it  fix 
upon  the  degree  of  the  longitude; 
tho  sette  I  the  point  of  A  on  my 
label,  evene  over  the  ecliptik  lyne, 
in  the  ende   evene  of  the  degree  of 

60  the  longitude,  and  sette  the  point  of 
F  endlang  in  my  label  the  space 
of  3  degrees  of  the  latitude  fro  the 
zodiak,  this  is  to  seyn,  southward  fro 
the    ecliptik,    toward    the    bordure; 

85  and  turned  my  riet  til  the  prikke  of 
F  sat  up-on  the  orisonte;  thanne 
saw  I  wel  that  the  body  of  luppiter, 
in  his  latitude  of  3  degrees  meri- 
dional, ascended  with   14  degrees  of 

90  Pisces    in    horoscopo.      And   in   this 


maner  maistow  wirke  with  any  lati- 
tude meridional,  as  I  first  seide,  save 
in  Capricorne.  And  yif  thou  wolt 
pleye  this  craft  with  the  arysing  of 
the  mone,  loke  thou  rekne  wel  hir  95 
cours  houre  by  houre;  for  she  ne 
dwelleth  nat  in  a  degree  of  hir  longi- 
tude but  a  litel  whyle,  as  thou  wel 
knowest;  but  natheles,  yif  thou  rekne 
hir  verreye  moeving  by  thy  tables  100 
houre  after  houre,  [thou  shalt  do  wel 
y-now]. 

Explicit  tractatus  de  Conclusionibus 
Astrolabii,  compilatiis  per  Galfri- 
dum  Chancier s  ad  Filium  stium 
Lodnvicum,  scolarem  time  temporis 
Oxonie,  ac  sub  tutela  illius  nobi- 
lissitni  philosophi  Magistri  N. 
Strode  etc. 


SUPPLEMENTARY  PROPOSI- 
TIONS. 

41.    Umbra  Recta. 

Yif  it  so  be  that  thou  wilt  werke 
by  umbra  recta,  and  thou  may  come 
to  the  bas  of  the  toure,  in  this  maner 
thou  schalt  werke.  Tak  the  altitude 
of  the  tour  by  bothe  holes,  so  that  thy  5 
rewle  ligge  even  in  a  poynt.  Ensam- 
ple  as  thus :  I  see  him  thorw  at  the 
poynt  of  4;  than  mete  I  the  space 
be-tween  me  and  the  tour,  and  I 
finde  it  20  feet;  than  be-holde  I  how  10 
4  is  to  1 2,  right  so  is  the  space  betwixe 
thee  and  the  tour  to  the  altitude  of 
the  tour.  For  4  is  the  thridde  part 
of  12,  so  is  the  space  be-tween  thee 
and  the  tour  the  thridde  part  of  the  15 
altitude  of  the  tour;  than  thryes  20 
feet  is  the  heyghte  of  the  tour,  with 
adding  of  thyn  owne  persone  to  thyn 
eye.  And  this  rewle  is  so  general  in 
umbra  recta,  fro  the  poynt  of  oon  to  20 
12.  And  yif  thy  rewle  falle  upon  5, 
than  is  5  12-partyes  of  the  heyght 
the  space  be-tween  thee  and  the 
toure;  with  adding  of  thyn  owne 
heyght.  25 


A  TREATISE   ON    THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


461 


42.  Umbra    Versa. 

Another  maner  of  werkinge,  by 
vmbra  versa.  Vif  so  lie  that  thou 
may  nat  come  to  the  has  of  the  tour, 
I  see  him  thorw  the  nombre  of  i ; 
5  I  sette  thcr  a  prikke  at  my  fote; 
than  go  I  neer  to  the  tour,  and  I  see 
him  thorw  at  the  poynt  of  2,  and 
there  1  sette  a-nother  prikke;  and  I 
beholde  how   i    hath  him  to   12,  and 

10  ther  hnde  I  that  it  hath  him  twelfe 
sythes;  than  beholde  I  how  2  hath 
him  to  12,  and  thou  shalt  linde  it 
sexe  sythes;  tlian  thou  shalt  fiiule 
that  as   12  above  6  is  the  numbre  of 

15  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  i,  thou  settest  a 
prikke;     and    afterward,    whan    thou 

20  seest  him  at  2,  ther  thou  settest 
an-other  prikke;  than  thou  tindest 
between  two  prikkys  60  feet;  than 
thou  shalt  hnde  that  10  is  the  6-party 
of  60.     And  then  is  10  feet  the  alti- 

25  tude  of  the  tour.  For  other  poyntis, 
yif  it  HUe  in  umbra  versa,  as  thus  :  I 
sette  caas  it  hll  upon  2,  and  at  the 
secunde  upon  3;  than  schalt  thou 
finde  that  2  is  6  partyes  of  12;   and 

30  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 

35  it  be  three  tymes;  and  thus  mayst 
thou  werke  fro  2  to  12;  and  yif  it  be 
4,  4  tymes;  or  5,  5  tymes;  et  sic  de 
ceteris. 

43.  Umbra  Recta. 

An-other  maner  of  wyrking  be 
umbra  recta.  Yif  it  so  be  that  thou 
mayst  nat  come  to  the  baas  of  the 
tour,  in  this  maner  thou  schalt  werke. 
5  Sette  thy  rewle  upon  i  till  thou  see 
the  altitude,  and  sette  at  thy  foot  a 
prikke.  Than  sette  thy  rewle  upon 
2,  and  beholde  what  is  the  differense 
be-tween  i  and  2,  and  thou  shalt 
10  finde  that  it  is  i.  Than  mete  the 
space  be-tween  two  prikkes,  and  that 


is  the  12  partie  of  the  altitude  of  the 
tour.  And  yif  ther  were  2,  it  were 
the  6  partye;  an<l  yif  ther  were  3, 
the  4  partye;  et  sic  dcivceps.  And  15 
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  conclu- 
sioun,  adile  the  stature  of  thyn 
heyghte  to  thyn  eye.  20 


44.  Another  maner  coftctusion,  to 
knowe  the  mene  mote  and  the 
argumeiitis  of  a7iy  planete.  I'o 
knowe  the  mene  mote  and  the  argii- 
mentis  of  every  planete  fro  ycrc  to 
y ere,  from  day  to  day,  from  houre 
to  houre,  and  from  smale  frac- 
cionis  infinite. 

[Ad  cognoscendum  tnedios  motus  et 
argume7ita  de  hora  in  horam 
cuiuslibet  planete,  de  anno  in 
annum,  de   die   in   dietn.'] 

In  this  maner  shalt  thou  worche  : 
consider  thy  rote  first,  the  whiche  is 
made  the  beginning  of  the  tables  fro 
the  yere  of  oure  lord  1397,  and 
entere  hit  in-to  thy  slate  for  the  laste  5 
meridie  of  December;  and  than  con- 
sider the  yere  of  oure  lord,  what  is 
the  date,  and  be-hold  whether  thy 
date  be  more  or  lasse  than  the  yere 
1397.  And  yf  hit  so  be  that  hit  be  10 
more,  loke  how  many  yeres  hit 
passeth,  and  with  so  many  entere 
into  thy  tables  in  the  first  lyne  ther-as 
is  writen  anni  collecti  et  e.xpansi. 
And  loke  where  the  same  planet  is  15 
writen  in  the  hede  of  thy  table,  and 
than  loke  what  thou  findest  in  directe 
of  the  same  yere  of  oure  lord  whiche 
is  passid,  be  hit  8,  or  9,  or  10,  or 
what  nombre  that  evere  it  be,  til  the  20 
tyme  that  thou  come  to  20,  or  40,  or 
60,  And  that  thou  findest  in  directe 
wryte  in  thy  slate  under  thy  rote,  and 
adde  hit  to-geder,  and  that  is  thy 
mene  mote,  for  the  laste  meridian  of  25 
the  December,  for  the  same  yere 
whiche  that  thou  hast  purposed. 
And  if  hit  so  be  that   hit   passe  20, 


462 


A  TREATISE   ON  THE   ASTROLABE.     PART   II. 


consider  vvel  that  fro  i  to  20  ben  anni 

30  expansi,  and  fro  20  to  3000  ben  anni 
collecti ;  and  if  tliy  nombere  passe  20, 
than  take  that  thou  findest  in  directe 
of  20,  and  if  hit  be  more,  as  6  or  18, 
than  take  that  thou  findest  in  directe 

35  there-of,  that  is  to  sayen,  signes, 
degrees,  minutes,  and  secoundes,  and 
adde  to-gedere  un-to  thy  rote ;  and 
thus  to  make  rotes;  and  note,  that  if 
hit  so  be  that  the  yere  of  oure  lord 

40  be  lasse  than  the  rote,  whiche  is  the 
yere  of  oure  lord  1397,  than  shalt 
thou  wryte  in  the  same  wyse  furst  thy 
rote  in  thy  slate,  and  after  entere  in-to 
thy  table    in   the  same  yere  that  be 

45  lasse,  as  I  taught  be-fore  ;  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, 

50  and  after  with-dravve  hem  from  the 
rote,  the  yere  of  oure  lord  1397;  and 
the  residue  that  leveth  is  thy  mene 
mote  fro  the  laste  meridie  of  Decem- 
ber, the  whiche  thou  hast  purposed; 

55  and  if  hit  so  be  that  thou  wolt  vveten 
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  Decembere  in  the 

60  maner  as  I  have  taught,  and  after- 
ward behold  how  many  monethis, 
dayes,  and  houres  ben  passid  from 
the  meridie  of  Decembere,  and  with 
that    entere    with   the    laste    moneth 

65  that  is  ful  passed,  and  take  that  thou 
findest  in  directe  of  him,  and  wryte 
hit  in  thy  slate;  and  entere  with  as 
mony  dayes  as  be  more,  and  wryte 
that  thou  findest  in  directe  of  the  same 

70  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  mene  mote  for  the 

75  same  day  and  the  same  houre. 

45.    Another    nianere    to   knowe    the 
mene  mote. 

Whan  thou  wolt  make  the   mene 
mote  of  eny  planete  to  be  by  Arse- 


15 


chicles  tables,  take  thy  rote,  the  whiche 
is  for  the  yere  of  oure  lord  1397;  and 
if  so  be  that  thy  yere  be  passid  the 
date,  wryte  that  date,  and  than  wryte 
the  nombere  of  the  yeres.  Than  with- 
drawe  the  yeres  out  of  the  yeres  that 
ben  passed  that  rote.  Ensampul  as 
thus:  the  yere  of  oure  loid  1400,  I 
wolde  witen,  precise,  my  rote;  than 
wroot  I  furst  1400.  And  under  that 
nombere  I  wrote  a  1397;  than  with- 
drow  I  the  laste  nombere  out  of  that, 
and  than  fond  I  the  residue  was  3 
yere;  I  wiste  that  3  yere  was  passed 
fro  tha-  rote,  the  whiche  was  writen 
in  my  tables.  Than  after-ward  soghte 
I  in  my  tables  the  annis  collectis  et 
expansis,  and  amonge  myn  expanse  20 
yeres  fond  I  3  yeer.  Than  tok  I  alle 
the  signes,  degrees,  and  minutes,  that 
I  fond  directe  under  the  same  planete 
that  I  wroghte  for,  and  wroot  so  many 
signes,  degrees,  and  minutes  in  my  25 
slate,  and  afterward  added  I  to  signes, 
degrees,  minutes,  and  secoundes,  the 
whiche  I  fond  in  my  rote  the  yere  of 
oure  lord  1397;  and  kepte  the  residue; 
and  than  had  I  the  mene  mote  for  30 
the  laste  day  of  Deceml^ere.  And  if 
thou  woldest  wete  the  mene  mote  of 
any  planete  in  March,  Aprile,  or  May, 
other  in  any  other  tyme  or  moneth  of 
the  yere,  loke  how  many  monethes  35 
and  dayes  ben  passed  from  the  laste 
day  of  Decembere,  the  yere  of  oure 
lord  1400;  and  so  with  monethes 
and  dayes  entere  in-to  thy  table  ther 
thou  findest  thy  mene  mote  y-writen  40 
in  monethes  and  dayes,  and  take  alle 
the  signes,  degrees,  minutes,  and  sec- 
oundes that  thou  findest  y-write  in 
directe  of  thy  monethes,  and  adde  to 
signes, degrees,  minutes,  and  secoundes  45 
that  thou  findest  with  thy  rote  the  yere 
of  oure  lord  1400,  and  the  residue  that 
leveth  is  the  mene  mote  for  that  same 
day.  And  note,  if  hit  so  be  that  thou 
woldest  wete  the  mene  mote  in  ony  50 
yere  that  is  lasse  than  thy  rote,  with- 
dravve  the  nombere  of  so  many  yeres 
as  hit  is  lasse  than  the  yere  of  oure 
lord  a  1397,  and  kepe  the  residue; 
and  so  many   yeres,   monethes,   and   55 


A   TREATISE   ON   THE   ASTROLABE.     TART   II. 


463 


dayes  entere  in-to  thy  tal^elis  of  thy 
niene  mote.  Ami  take  alle  the  signes, 
(lej^rees,  and  minutes,  and  secoundes, 
that  thou  hndest  in  directeof  alle  the 

60  yeris,  monethes,  and  dayes,  and  wryte 
hem  in  thy  slate;  and  above  thilke 
nonibere  wryte  the  signes,  degrees, 
minutes,  and  secoundes,  the  whiche 
thou  tiiulest  with    thy  rote    the  yere 

65  of  oure  lord  a  1397;  and  with-drawe 
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 

70  is  thy  mene  mote  for  that  day. 


46.  For  to  kno7ve  at  what  houre  of  the 
day,  or  of  the  night,  shal  be  flode  or 
ebbe. 

First  wite  thou  certeinly,  how  that 
haven  stondeth,  that  thou  list  to  werke 
for;  that  is  to  say  in  whiche  place  of 
the  firmament  the  mone  being,  mak- 
5  eth  fulle  see.  Than  awayte  thou 
redily  in  what  degree  of  the  zodiak 
that  the  mone  at  that  tyme  is  inne. 
Bringe  furth  than  the  lahelle,  and 
set  the  point  therof  in  that  same  cost 

10  that  the  mone  maketh  flode,  and  set 
thou  there  the  degree  of  the  mone 
according  with  the  egge  of  the  label. 
Than  afterward  awayte  where  is  than 
the  degree  of  the  sonne,  at  that  tyme. 

15  Remeve  thou  than  the  label  fro  the 
mone,  and  bringe  and  sette  it  iustly 
upon  the  degree  of  the  sonne.  And 
the  point  of  the  label  shal  than  declare 
to  thee,  at  what  houre  of  the  day  or 

20  of  the  night  shal  be  flode.  And  there 
also  maist  thou  wite  by  the  same 
point  of  the  label,  whether  it  be,  at 
that  same  tyme,  flode  or  ebbe,  or  half 
flode,  or   quarter    flode,  or    ebbe,   or 

25  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 

30  matere  aboute  the  tyme  of  the  con- 
iunccioun,  bringe  fiu-the  the  degree  of 
the    mone    with    the    labelle  to   that 


coste  as  it  is  before  scyd.  But  than 
thou  shalt  understonde  that  thou  may 
not  bringe  furthe  the  label  fro  the  35 
degree  of  the  mone  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  labelle  unremeved  knowe  40 
the  houre  of  the  flode  or  of  the  ebbe, 
as  it  is  before  seyd,  &c.  .And  ever- 
more as  thou  hndest  the  mone  passe 
fro  the  Sonne,  so  remeve  thou  the 
labelle  than  fro  the  degree  of  the  45 
mone,  and  bringe  it  to  the  degree  of 
the  Sonne.  And  worke  thou  than  as 
thou  dide  before,  &c.  Or  elles  knowe 
thou  what  houre  it  is  that  thou  art 
inne,  by  thyn  instrument.  Than  bringe  5° 
thou  furth  fro  thennes  the  labelle  and 
ley  it  upon  the  degree  of  the  mt)ne, 
and  therby  may  thou  wite  also  whan 
it  was  flode,  or  whan  it  wol  be  next, 
be  it  night  or  day;   &c.  55 

[  The  folloiving  sections  are  spurious  ; 
they  are  ma?tbered  so  as  to  shew 
what  propositions  they  repeat. '\ 

41  a.  Umbra  Recta. 

Yif  thy  rewle  falle  upon  the  8  poynt 
on  right  schadwe,  than  make  thy 
figure  of  8;  than  loke  how  moche 
space  of  feet  is  be-tween  thee  and 
the  tour,  and  multiplye  that  be  12,  5 
and  whan  thou  hast  multiplied  it, 
than  divyde  it  be  the  same  nombre 
of  8,  and  kepe  the  residue;  and  adde 
therto  up  to  thyn  eye  to  the  residue, 
and  that  shal  be  the  verry  heyghl  10 
of  the  tour.  And  thus  mayst  thou 
werke  on  the  same  wyse,  fro  i  to  12. 

41  3.    Umbra  Recta. 

An-other  nianer  of  werking  upon 
the  same  syde.  Loke  upon  which 
poynt  thy  rewle  falleth  whan  thou 
seest  the  top  of  the  tour  thorow  two 
litil  holes;  and  mete  than  the  space  5 
fro  thy  foot  to  the  baas  of  the  tour; 
and  right  as  the  nombre  of  thy  poynt 
hath  him-self  to  12,  right  so  the 
nu'sure  be-tween    thee  and   the   tour 


464 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE  ASTROLABE.    PART  II. 


10  hath  him-self  to  the/  heighte  of  the 
same  tour.  Ensample  :  I  sette  caas 
thy  rewle  falle  upon  8;  than  is  8  two- 
thrid  partyes  of  12;  so  the  space  is 
the  two-thrid  partyes  of  the  tour. 

42  a.    Umbra    Versa. 

To  knowe  the  heyghth  by  thy 
poyntes  of  umbra  versa.  Yif  thy 
rewle  falle  upon  3,  whan  thou  seest 
the  top  of  the  tour,  set  a  prikke 
5  there-as  thy  foot  stont;  and  go  ner 
til  thou  mayst  see  the  same  top  at  the 
poynt  of  4,  and  sette  ther  another  lyk 
prikke.  Than  mete  how  many  foot 
ben   be-tween  the  two   prikkes,  and 

10  adde  the  lengthe  up  to  thyn  eye  ther- 
to;  and  that  shal  be  the  heyght  of 
the  tour.  And  note,  that  3  is  [the] 
fourthe  party  of  12,  and  4  is  the 
thridde  party  of  12.     Now  passeth  4 

15  the  nombre  of  3  be  the  distaunce 
of  I ;  therfore  the  same  space,  with 
thyn  heyght  to  thyn  eye,  is  the 
heyght  of  the  tour.  And  yif  it  so  be 
that  ther  be  2  or  3  distaunce  in  the 

20  nombres,  so  shulde  the  mesures  be- 
tween the  prikkes  be  twyes  or  thryes 
the  heyghte  of  the  tour. 

43  a.    Ad  cognoscendum  altitudinem 
alicuius  rei  per  umbram  rectam. 

To  knowe  the  heyghte  of  thinges, 
yif  thou  mayst  nat  come  to  the  bas  of 
a  thing.  Sette  thy  rewle  upon  what 
thou  wilt,  so  that  thou  may  see  the 
5  top  of  the  thing  thorw  the  two  holes, 
and  make  a  marke  ther  thy  foot 
standeth;   and  go  near  or  forther,  til 


thou  mayst  see  thorw  another  poynt, 
and    marke     ther    a-nother    marke. 
And  loke  than  what  is  the  differense    to 
be-twen    the     two    poyntes    in    the 
scale;     and   right   as   that    difference 
hath   him  to    12,  right  so   the  space 
be-tween   thee   and   the  two   markes    15 
hath  him  to  the  heyghte  of  the  thing. 
Ensample :    1  set  caas  thou  seest  it 
thorw  a  poynt    of  4;    after,   at   the 
poynt  of  3.     Now  passeth  the  nombre 
of  4  the  nombre  of  3  be  the  differ-    20 
ence  of  l ;    and  right  as  this  difference 
I    hath   him-self  to    12,  right   so  the 
mesure  be-tween  the  two  markes  hath 
him  to  the  heyghte  of  the  thing,  put- 
ting to  the  heyghte  of  thy-self  to  thyn    25 
eye;   and  thus  mayst  thou  werke  fro 
I  to  12. 

42  b.   Per  U7nbram  versam. 

Furthermore,  yif  thou  wilt  knowe 
in  umbra  versa,  by  the  craft  of  umbra 
recta,  I  suppose  thou  take  the  altitude 
at  the  poynt  of  4,  and  makest  a 
marke;  and  thou  goost  neer  til  thou  5 
hast  it  at  the  poynt  of  3,  and  than 
makest  thou  ther  a-nother  mark. 
Than  muste  thou  devyde  144  by  eche 
of  the  poyntes  be-fornseyd,  as  thus : 
yif  thou  devyde  144  be  4,  and  the  10 
nombre  that  cometh  ther-of  schal  be 
36,  and  yif  thou  devyde  144  be  3,  and 
the  nombre  that  cometh  ther-of  schal 
be  48,  thanne  loke  what  is  the  differ- 
ence be-tween  36  and  48,  and  ther  15 
shalt  thou  fynde  12;  and  right  as  12 
hath  him  to  12,  right  so  the  space  be- 
tween two  prikkes  hath  him  to  the 
altitude  of  the  thing. 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


GROUP  A.     THE   PROLOGUE. 


Here  biginneth   the   Book    of  the 
Tales  of  Caunterbury. 

Whan  that  Aprille  with  his  shoures  sote 
The  droghte  of  Marche  hath  perced  to 

the  rote, 
And  bathed  every  veyne  in  swich  licour, 
Of  which  vertu  engendred  is  the  flour; 
Whan    Zephirus     eek    with    his    swete 

breeth  5 

Inspired  hath  in  every  holt  and  heeth 
The  tendre  croppes,  and  the  yonge  sonne 
Hath  in  the  Ram  his  halfe  cours  y-ronne, 
And  smale  fowles  maken  melodye, 
That  slepen  al  the  night  with  open  ye,  lo 
(So  priketh  hem  nature  in  hir  corages): 
Than   longen   folk   to  goon  on  pilgrim- 
ages 
(And    palmers    for    to    seken    straunge 

strondes) 
To  feme  haUves,  couthe  in  sondry  londes; 
And  specially,  from  every  shires  ende  15 
Of  Engelond,  to  Caunterbury  they  wende. 
The  holy  blisful  martir  for  to  seke. 
That  hem  hath  holpen,  whan  that  they 

were  seke. 
Bifel  that,  in  that  seson  on  a  day, 
In  Southwerk  at  the  Tabard  as  I  lay     20 
Redy  to  wend  en  on  my  pilgrimage 
To  Caunterbury  with  ful  devout  corage, 
At  night  was  come  in-to  that  hostelrye 
Wei  nyne  and  twenty  in  a  companye, 
Of  sondry  folk,  by  aventure  y-falle        25 
In  felawshipe,   and   pilgrims  were   they 

alle, 
That  toward  Caunterbury  wolden  ryde; 
The    chambres    and    the    stables   weren 

wyde, 

2  u  465 


And  wel  we  weren  esed  atte  beste. 

And    shortly,  whan    the    sonne  was   to 

reste,  30 

So  hadde  I  spoken  with  hem  everichon, 
That  I  was  of  hir  felawshipe  anon, 
And  made  forward  erly  for  to  ryse. 
To  take  our  wey,  ther  as  I  yow  devyse. 
But  natheles,  whyl    I  have  tyme  and 

space,  35 

Er  that  I  ferther  in  this  tale  pace. 
Me  thinketh  it  acordaunt  to  resoun, 
To  telle  yow  al  the  condicioun 
Of  ech  of  hem,  so  as  it  semed  me. 
And  whiche    they  weren,   and    of  what 

degree;  40 

And  eek  in  what  array  that   they  were 

inne : 
And  at  a  knight  than  wol  I  first  biginne. 
A  Knight  ther  was,  and  that  a  worthy 

man. 
That  fro  the  tyme  that  he  first  liigan 
To  ryden  out,  he  loved  chivalrye,  45 

Trouthe  and   honour,  fredom   and    cur- 

teisye. 
Ful  worthy  was  he  in  his  lordes  werre, 
And   therto    hadde    he    riden    (no   man 

ferre) 
As  wel  in  Cristendom  as  hethenesse. 
And    ever     honoured     for    his    worthi- 

nesse.  50 

At  Alisaundre   he  was,  whan    it   was 

wonne; 
Ful  ofte  tyme  he  hadde  the  bord  bigonne 
Aboven  alle  naciouns  in  I'ruce. 
In  Lettow  hadde  he  reysed  and  in  Ruce, 
No  Cristen  man  so  ofte  of  his  degree.  55 
In  Gernadc  at  the  segc  C(-k  hadde  lie  be 
Of  Algezir,  and  riden  in  Belmarye. 


466 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[58-144. 


At  Lyeys  was  he,  and  at  Satalye, 

Whan    they    were    wonne;     and    in    the 

Crete  See 
At  many  a  noble  aryve  hadde  he  be.     60 
At  mortal  batailles  hadde  he  been  fiftene, 
And  foughten  for  our  feith  at  Tramis- 

sene 
In  listes  thryes,  and  ay  jlayn  his  foo. 
This  ilke  worthy  knight  had  been  also 
Somtyme  with  the  lord  of  Palatye,         65 
Ageyn  another  hethen  in  Turkye  : 
And  evermore  he  hadde  a  sovereyn  prys. 
And  though  that  he  were  worthy,  he  was 

wys, 
And  of  his  port  as  meke  as  is  a  mayde. 
He  never  yet  no  vileinye  ne  sayde         70 
In  al  his  lyf,  un-to  no  maner  wight. 
He  was  a  verray  parfit  gentil  knight. 
But  for  to  tellen  yow  of  his  array. 
His  hors  were  gode,  but  he  was  nat  gay. 
Of  fustian  he  wered  a  gipoun  75 

Al  bismotered  with  his  habergeoun; 
P^or  he  was  late  y-come  from  his  viage, 
u^  And  wente  for  to  doon  his  pilgrimage. 

With  him  ther  was  his  sone,  a  yong 

Squyer, 
A  lovyere,  and  a  lusty  bacheler,  80 

With  lokkes  crulle,  as  they  were  leyd  in 

presse. 
Of  twenty  yeer  of  age  he  was,  I  gesse. 
Of  his  stature  he  was  of  evene  lengthe, 
And    wonderly    deliver,    and    greet    of 

strengthe. 
And  he  had  been  somtyme  in  chiyachye, 
In  Flaundres,  in  Artoys,  and  Picardye,  86 
And  burn  him  wel,  as  of  so  litel  space, 
In  hope  to  stonden  in  his  lady  grace. 
Embrouded  was  he,  as  it  were  a  mede 
Al  ful  of  fresshe  floures,  whyte  and  rede. 
.Singinge  he  was,  or  floytinge,  al  the  <lay; 
He  was  as  fresh  as  is  the  month  of  May. 
Short  was  his  goune,  with  sieves  longe 

and  wyde.  93 

Wel  coude   he  sitte  on  hors,  and  faire 

ryde. 
He  coude  songes  make  and  wel  endyte, 
luste  and  eek  daunce,  and  wel  purtreye 

and  wryte.  96 

So  hote  he  lovede,  that  by  nightertale 
He  sleep  namore  than  dooth  a  nightin- 
gale. 
Curteys  he  was,  lowly,  and  servisable, 
And  carf  biforn  his  fader  at  the  table.  100 


A    Yeman    hadde    he,    and    servaunts 

namo 
At  that  tyme,  for  him  liste  ryde  so; 
And  he  was   clad  in  cote   and   hood  of 

grene; 
A  sheef  of  pecok-arwes  brighte  and  kene 
Under  his  belt  he  bar  ful  thriftily;        105 
(Wel  coude  he  dresse  his  takel  yemanly : 
His  arwes  drouped  noght  with  fetheres 

lowe). 
And  in  his  hand  he  bar  a  mighty  bowe. 
A  not-heed  hadde  he,  with  a  broun  vis- 
age. 
Of  wode-craft  wel  coude  he  al  the  usage. 
Upon  his  arm  he  bar  a  gay  bracer,       ill 
And  by  his  syde  a  swerd  and  a  bokeler, 
And  on  that  other  syde  a  gay  daggere, 
Harneised   wel,   and    sharp    as   point   of 

spere; 
A  Cristofre  on  his  brest  of  silver  shene. 
An    horn    he    bar,    the    bawdrik   was  of 

grene;  1 16 

A  forster  was  he,  soothly,  as  I  gesse. 

Ther  was  also  a  Nonne,  a  Prioresse, 
That  of  hir  smyling  was  ful  simple  and 

coy; 
Hir  gretteste  00th  was  but  by  seynt  Loy; 
And  she  was  cleped  madame  Eglentyne. 
Ful  wel  she  song  the  service  divyne, 
Entuned  in  hir  nose  ful  semely;  123 

And  Frensh  she  spak  ful  faire  and  fetisly. 
After  the  scole  of  Stratford  atte  Bowe, 
For  Frensh  of  Paris  was  to  hir  unknowe. 
At  mete  wel  y-taught  was  she  with-alle; 
She  leet  no  morsel  from  hir  lippes  falle, 
Ne  wette  hir  fingres  in  hir  sauce  depe. 
Wel  coude  she  carie  a  morsel,  and  wel 

kepe,  130 

That  no  drope  ne  fille  up-on  hir  brest. 
In  curteisye  was  set  ful  muche  hir  lest. 
Hir  over  lippe  wyped  she  so  clene. 
That  in  hir  coppe  was  no  ferthing  sene 
Of  grece,   whan   she  dronken  hadde  hir 

draughte.  135 

Ful  semely  after  hir  mete  she  raughte, 
And  sikerly  she  was  of  greet  disport, 
And  ful  plesaunt,  and  amiable  of  port. 
And  peyned  hir  to  countrefete  chere 
Of  court,  and  been  estatlich  of  manere. 
And  to  ben  holden  digne  of  reverence. 
But,  for  to  speken  of  hir  conscience,   142 
She  was  so  charital)le  and  so  pitous, 
She  wolde  wepe,  if  that  she  sawe  a  mous 


145-221.] 


A.     THE   PROLOGUE. 


467 


Caught   in   a   trappe,  if  it  were  deed  or 

hledde.  145 

Of     smale    houiules   had    she,   that    she 

fedde 
With    rosted   flesh,   or  milk  and   wastel- 

hreed. 
But  sore  weep  she  if  con  of  hem  were 

deed. 
Or  if  men  smoot  it  with  a  yerde  smerte  : 
And  al  was  conscience  and  tendre  herte. 
Ful  semely  hir  wimpel  pinched  was;   15 1 
ITir  nose  tretys;    hir  eyen  greye  as  glas; 
Hir  mouth   ful  smal,  and   ther-to  softe 

and  reed; 
But  sikerly  she  hadde  a  fair  forheed; 
It  was  almost  a  spanne  brood,  I  trowe; 
For,  hardily,  she  was  nat  undergrowe. 
Ful  felis  was  hir  cloke,  as  I  was  war.  156 
Of  smal  coral  aboute  hir  arm  she  bar 
Apeire  of  bedes,  gauded  al  with  grene; 
And  ther-on  heng  a  broche  of  gold  ful 

shene,  160 

On  which  ther  was  first  write  a  crowned  A, 
And  after,  .-Imor  viucit  omnia. 

Another  NoNNE  with  hir  hadde  she. 
That  was  hir  chapeleyne,  and  Preestes 

three. 
A    Monk    ther    was,    a   fair   for   the 

maistrye,  165 

An  out-rydere,  that  lovede  venerye; 
A  manly  man,  to  been  an  abbot  al)le. 
F"ul  many  a  deyntee  hors  hadde  he  in 

stable  : 
And,  whan    he  rood,    men   mighte   his 

brydel  here 
Ginglen  in  a  whistling  wind  as  clere,  170 
And  eek  as  loude  as  dooth  the  chapel- 
belle, 
Ther  as  this  lord  was  keper  of  the  celle. 
The   reule    of  seint    Maure   or  of    seint 

Beneit, 
By-cause  that  it  was   old    and    som-del 

streit, 
This  ilke  monk  leet  olde  thinges  pace. 
And    held   after    the    newe   world   the 

space.  176 

He  yaf  nat  of  that  text  a  pulled  hen, 
That  seith,  that  hunters  been  nat  holy 

men; 
Ne  that  a  monk,  whan  he  is  cloisterlees. 
Is  lykncd  til  a  fish  that  is  waterlees;    180 
This   is   to   seyn,  a   monk    out    of    his 

cloistre. 


But  thilke   text    held    he   nat   worth    an 

oistre; 

And  I  seyde,  his  opinioun  was  good^ 

What  sholde   he  studie,  and  make   him- 

selven  wood,  184 

Upon  a  book  in  cloistre  alwey  to  poure. 
Or  swinken  with  his  handes,  and  lal>oure, 
As  Austin  l)it?     How  shal  the  world   be 

served? 
Lat    Austin    have    his    swink     to    him 

reserved. 
Therfore  he  was  a  pricasour  aright; 
Grehoundes  he  hadde,  as  swifte  as  fowel 

in  flight;  190 

Of  priking  and  of  hunting  for  the  hare 
Was  al   his  lust,  for  no  cost  wolde  he 

spare.  ^      . 

I  seigh  his  sieves  "purfiled  at  the  hond 
With   grys,    and    that    the   fyneste   of   a 

lond ; 
And,  for  to  festne  his  hood  under  his 

chin,  195 

He  hadde  of  gold    y-wroght  a  curious 

pin  : 
A  love-knotte  in  the  gretter  ende  ther 

was. 
His  heed  was  balled,  that  shoon  as  any 

glas, 
And  eek  his  face,  as  he  had  been  anoint. 
He  was  a  lord  ful  fat  and  in  good  point; 
His  eyen  stepe,  and  rollinge  in  his  heed, 
That  stemed  as  a  forneys  of  a  leed ;     202 
His  botes  souple,  his  hors  in  greet  estat. 
Now  certeinly  he  was  a  fair  prelat; 
He  was  nat  pale  as  a  for-pyned  goost. 
A  fat  swan  loved  he  best  of  any  roost. 
His  palfrey  was  as  broun  as  is  a  berye. 
A  Frere  ther  was,  a  wantown  and  a 

merye, 
A  limitour,  a  ful  solempne  man.  209 

In  alle  the  ordres  foure  is  noon  that  can 
So  muche  of  daliaunce  and  fair  langage. 
He  hadde  maad  ful  many  a  mariage 
Of  yonge  vv'ommen,  at  his  owne  cost. 
Un-to  his  ordre  he  was  a  noble  post. 
Ful  wel  biloved  and  famulier  was  he  215 
With  frank eleyns  over-al  in  his  contree, 
And  eek  with    worthy   wommen   of  the 

toun : 
For  he  had  power  of  confessioun. 
As  seyde  him-self,  more  than  a  curat, 
F'or  his  ordre  he  was  licentiat.  220 

Ful  swetely  herde  he  confessioun, 


468 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[222-301. 


And  plesaunt  was  his  absolucioun; 
He  was  an  esy  man  to  yeve  penaunce 
Ther  as  he  wiste  to  han  a  good  pitaunce; 
For  unto  a  povre  ordre  for  to  yive       225 
Is  signe  that  a  man  is  wel  y-shrive 
For  if  he  yaf,  he  dorste  make  avaunt, 
He  wiste  that  a  man  was  repentaunt. 
For  many  a  man  so  hard  is  of  his  herte, 
He   may   nat    wepe  al-thogh    him   sore 
smerte.  230 

Therfore,     in     stede     of    weping    and 

preyeres, 
Men    moot    yeve    silver   to    the    povre 

freres. 
His  tipet  was  ay  farsed  ful  of  knyves 
And  pinnes,  for  to  yeven  faire  wyves. 
And  certainly  he  hadde  amery  note;  235 
Wel  coude  he  singe  and    pleyen  on  a 

rote. 
Of  yeddinges  he  bar  utterly  the  prys. 
His  nekke  whyt  was  as  the  flour-de-lys; 
Ther-to  he  strong  was  as  a  champioun. 
He  knew  the  tavernes  wel  in  every  toun, 
And  everich  hostiler  and  tappestere    241 
Bet  than  a  lazar  or  a  beggestere; 
For  un-to  swich  a  worthy  man  as  he 
Acorded  nat,  as  by  his  facultee, 
To  have  with  seke  lazars  aqueyntaunce. 
It  is  nat  honest,  it  may  nat  avaunce    246 
For  to  delen  with  no  swich  poraille, 
But  al  with  riche  and  sellers  of  vitaille. 
And  over-al,  ther  as  profit  sholde  aryse, 
Curteys  he  was,  and  lowly  of  servyse.  250 
Ther  nas  no  man  no-wher  so  vertuous. 
He  was  the  beste  beggere  in  his  hous; 
[And  yaf  a  certeyn  ferme  for  thegraunt; 
Noon  of  his  bretheren  cam  ther  in  his 

haunt;]  2^2  b,c 

For  thogh  a  widwe  hadde  noght  a  sho, 
So  plesaunt  was  his  "In  principio," 
Yet  wolde   he    have  a  ferthing,   er   he 

wente.  255 

His   purchas  was   wel   bettre   than   his 

rente. 
And  rage  he  coude,  as  it  were  right  a 

whelpe 
In    love-dayes   ther   coude    he    muchel 

helpe. 
For  there  he  was  nat  lyk  a  cloisterer. 
With    a   thredbar   cope,    as  is   a   povre 

scoler,  260 

But  he  was  lyk  a  maister  or  a  pope. 
Of  double  worsted  was  his  semi-cope. 


That    rounded    as   a   belle  out   of    the 

presse. 
Somwhat  he  lipsed,  for  his  wantownesse, 
To  make   his   English  swete  up-on  his 

tonge;  265 

And  in  his  harping,  whan  that  he  had 

songe. 
His  eyen  twinkled  in  his  heed  aright. 
As  doon  the  sterres  in  the  frosty  night. 
This  worthy  limitour  was  cleped  Huberd. 
A  Makchant  was  ther  with  a  forked 

berd,  270 

In  mottelee,  and  hye  on  horse  he  sat, 
Up-on  his  heed  a  Flaundrish  bever  hat; 
His  botes  clasped  faire  and  fetisly. 
His  resons  he  spak  ful  solempnely, 
Souninge   alway   thencrees  of  his   win- 
ning. 275 
He  wolde  the   see  were  kept   for   any 

thing 
Bitwixe  Middelburgh  and  Orewelle. 
Wel   coude   he   in    eschaunge   sheeldes 

selle. 
This  worthy  man  ful  wel  his  wit  bisette ; 
Ther   wiste   no   wight    that    he   was   in 

dette,  280 

So  estatly  was  he  of  his  governaunce, 
With  his  bargaynes,  and  with  his  chevi- 

saunce. 
For  sothe  he  was  a  worthy  man  with- 

alle, 
But  sooth  to  seyn,  I  noot  how  men  him 

calle. 
A  Clerk  ther  was  of  Oxenford  also, 
That  un-to  logik  hadde  longe  y-go.     286 
As  lene  was  his  hors  as  is  a  rake, 
And  he  nas  nat  right  fat,  I  undertake; 
But  loked  holvve,  and  ther-to  soberly. 
Ful  thredbar  was  his  overest  courtepy; 
For  he  had  geten  him  yet  no  benefyce, 
Ne  was  so  worldly  for  to  have  offyce. 
For  him  was  lever  have  at  his  beddes 

heed 
Twenty  bokes,  clad  in  blak  or  reed, 
Of  Aristotle  and  his  philosophye,         295 
Than    robes    riche,   or    fithele,    or    gay 

sautrye. 
But  al  be  that  he  was  a  philosophre. 
Yet  hadde  he  but  litel  gold  in  cofre ; 
But  al   that  he   mighte    of   his   freendes 

hente. 
On  bokes  and  on  lerninge  he  it  spente. 
And  bisily  gan  for  the  soules  preye      301 


302-379-] 


A.    THE   PROLOGUE. 


469 


Of    hem    that    yaf    him   wher-with    to 

scoleye. 
Of  studie  took  he  most  cure  and  most 

heile. 
Noght  o  word  spak  he  more  than  was 

nede, 
And  that  was  seyd  in  forme  and  rever- 
ence, 305 
And  short  and  quik,  and  ful  of  hy  sen- 
tence. 
Souninge  in  moral  vertu  was  his  speche, 
And  gladly  wolde  he  lerne,  and  gladly 

teche. 
A  Sergeant  of  the  Lawe,  war  and 

wys, 
That  often  hadde  been  at  the  parvys,  310 
Thcr  was  also,  ful  riche  of  excellence. 
Discreet  he  was,  and  of  greet  reverence : 
He  semed  swich,  his  wordes  weren  so 

wyse. 
lustyce  he  was  ful  often  in  assyse,       314 
By  patente,  and  by  pleyn  commissioun; 
For  his  science,  and  for  his  heigh  renoun 
Of  fees  and  robes  hadde  he  many  oon. 
So    greet    a    purchasour    was    no-wher 

noon. 
Al  was  fee  simple  to  him  in  effect,      319 
His  purchasing  mighte  nat  been  infect. 
No-wher  so  bisy  a  man  as  he  ther  nas, 
And  yet  he  semed  bisier  than  he  was. 
In  termes  hadde  he  caas  and  domes  alle, 
That  from  the  tyme  of  king  William  were 

falle. 
Therto  he   coude   endyte,  and    make  a 

thing,  325 

Ther    coude    no    wight    pinche    at    his 

wryting; 
And  every  statut  coude  he  pleyn  by  rote. 
He  rood  but  hoomly  in  a  medlee  cote 
Girt    with  a  ceint    of  silk,  with   barres 

smale; 
Of  his  array  telle  I  no  lenger  tale.        330 
A  Frankeleyn  was  in  his  companye; 
Whyt  was  his  herd,  as  is  the  dayesye. 
Of  his  complexioun  he  was  sangwyn. 
Wei  loved  he  by  the  morvve   a  sop  in 

wyn. 
To  liven  in  delyt  was  ever  his  wone,  335 
For  he  was  Epicurus  owne  sone, 
That  heeld  opinioun,  that  pleyn  delyt 
Was  verraily  felicitee  parfyt. 
An   housholdere,  and   that  a  greet,  was 

he; 


Seint  lulian  he  was  in  his  contrce.      340 
His  breed,  his  ale,  was  aUvey  after  oon; 
A   bettre    envyned    man    was    no-wher 

noon. 
With-outc    bake    mete   was    never    his 

hous, 
Of  fish  and  flesh,  and  that  so  plentevous, 
It   snewed    in    his   hous  of    mete    and 

drinke,  345 

Of  alle  deyntees  that  men  coude  thinke. 
After  the  sondry  sesons  of  the  yeer, 
So  chaunged  he  his  mete  and  his  soper. 
Ful    many    a    fat    partrich   hadde  he    in 

mewe, 
And  many  a  breem  and  many  a  luce  in 

stewe.  350 

Wo    was    his    cook,    but-if    his    sauce 

were 
Poynaunt   and   sharp,    and    redy   al   his 

gere. 
His  table  dormant  in  his  halle  alway 
Stood  redy  covered  al  the  longe  day. 
At    sessiouns    ther    was    he     lord    and 

sire;  355 

Ful  ofte  tyme  he  was  knight  of  the  shire. 
An  anlas  and  a  gipser  al  of  silk 
Heng  at  his  girdel,  whyt  as  morne  milk. 
A  shirreve  hadde  he  been,  and  a  coun- 

tour; 
Was  no-wher  such  a  worthy  vavasour.  360 
An  Haberdassher  and  a  CARfENTER, 
A  Webbe,  a  Dyerp:,  and  a  Tapicer, 
Were  with  us  eek,  clothed  in  o  liveree, 
Of  a  solempne  and  greet  fraternitee. 
Ful   fresh    and    newe    hir   gere    apyked 

was ;  365 

Hir  knyves   were  y-chaped   noght  with 

bras, 
But  al  with  silver,  wroght  ful  clene  and 

weel 
Hir  girdles  and  hir  pouches  every-deel. 
Wei  semed  ech  of  hem  a  fair  burgeys, 
To  sitten  in  a  yeldhalle  on  a  deys.       370 
Everich,  for  the  wisdom  that  he  can, 
W^as  shaply  for  to  been  an  alderman. 
For  catel  hadde  they  y-nogh  and  rente, 
And  eek  hir  wyves  wolde  it  wel  assente; 
And  elles  certein  were  they  to  blame.  375 
It  is  ful  fair  to  been  y-clept  "  ma  davie" 
And  goon  to  vigilyes  al  bifore, 
And  have  a  mantel  royalliche  y-bore. 
A  Cook  they  hadde  with  hem  for  the 

nones, 


47P 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[380-456. 


To   boille    the  chiknes  with    the   mary- 

bones,  380 

And  poudre-marchant  tart,  and  galingale. 
Wei    coude    he    knowe   a   draughte    of 

London  ale. 
He  coude  roste,  and  sethe,  and  broille, 

and  frye, 
Maken  mortreux,  and  wel  bake  a  pye. 
But   greet    harm  was  it,  r.s  it  thoughte 

me,  385 

That  on  his  shine  a  mormal  hadde  he; 
For  blankmanger,  that  made  he  with  the 

beste. 
A  Shipman  was  ther,  woning  fer  by 

vveste : 
For   aught   I   woot,    he   was   of    Derte- 

mouthe. 
He  rood  up-on  a  rouncy,  as  he  couthe, 
In  a  gowne  of  falding  to  the  knee.      391 
A  daggere  hanging  on  a  laas  hadde  he 
Aboute  his  nekke  under  his  arm  adoun. 
The  bote  somer  had  maad  his  hewe  al 

broun ; 
And,  certainly,  he  was  a  good  felavve.  395 
Ful    many   a    draughte   of   wyn    had   he 

y-drawe 
From  Burdeux-ward,  whyl  that  the  chap- 
man sleep. 
Of  nyce  conscience  took  he  no  keep. 
If   that  he  faught,  and  hadde  the  hyer 

bond. 
By  water  he  sente   hem  hoom  to  every 

lond.  400 

But  of  his  craft  to  rekene  wel  his  tydes. 
His     stremes     and     his    daungers     him 

bisydes, 
His  herberwe  and  his    mone,  his  lode- 
menage, 
Ther   nas    noon   swich    from    Hulle    to 

Cartage.  404 

Hardy  he  was,  and  wys  to  undertake; 
With  many  a   tempest    hadde    his  herd 

been  shake. 
He  knew  wel  alle   the  havenes,  as  they 

were. 
From  Gootland  to  the  cape  of  Finistere, 
And  every    cryke    in    Britayne    and    in 

Spayne ; 
His  barge  y-cleped  was  the  Maudelayne. 
With     us    ther    was  a   Doctour    of 

Phisyk,  411 

In  al  this  world  ne  was  ther  noon  him 

lyk 


To  speke  of  phisik  and  of  surgerye; 
For  he  was  grounded  in  astronomye. 
He  kepte  his  pacient  a  ful  greet  del  415 
In  houres,  by  his  magik  naturel. 
Wel  coude  he  fortunen  the  ascendent 
Of  his  images  for  his  pacient. 
He  knew  the  cause  of  everich  maladye, 
Were   it   of  hoot  or   cold,   or  moiste,  or 

drye,  420 

And    where     engendred,    and    of    what 

humour; 
He  was  a  verrey  parfit  practisour. 
The  cause  y-knowe,  and  of  his  harm  the 

rote. 
Anon  he  yaf  the  seke  man  his  bote. 
Ful  redy  hadde  he  his  apothecaries,    425 
To  sende  him  drogges  and  his  letuaries, 
For    ech    of    hem    made    other   for   to 

winne; 
Hir  frendschipe  nas  nat  newe  to  biginne. 
Wel  knew  he  the  olde  Esculapius, 
And  Deiscorides,  and  eek  Rufus,        430 
Old  Ypocras,  Haly,  and  Galien; 
Serapion,  Razis,  and  Avicen; 
Averrois,  Damascien,  and  Constantyn; 
Bernard,  and  Gatesden,  and  Gilbertyn. 
Of  his  diete  mesurable  was  he,  435 

For  it  was  of  no  superfluitee. 
But  of  greet  norissing  and  digestible. 
His  studie  was  but  litel  on  the  Bible. 
In  sangwin  and  in  pers  he  clad  was  al, 
Lyned  with  taffata  and  with  sendal;    440 
And  yet  he  was  but  esy  of  dispence; 
He  kepte  that  he  wan  in  pestilence. 
For  gold  in  phisik  is  a  cordial, 
Therfore  he  lovede  gold  in  special. 
A    good   Wyf    was    ther    of    bisyde 

Bathe, 
But  she  was  som-del  deef,  and  that  was 

scathe.  446 

Of  clooth-making  she  hadde  swiche  an 

haunt, 
She  passed  hem  of  Ypres  and  of  Gaunt. 
In  al  the  parisshe  wyf  ne  was  ther  noon 
That    to    the   offring    bifore   hir     sholde 

goon;      _  450 

And  if  ther  dide,  certeyn,  so  wrooth  was 

she, 
That  she  was  out  of  alle  charitee. 
Hir  coverchiefs  ful  fyne  were  of  ground; 
I  dorste  swere  they  weyeden  ten  pound 
That  on  a  Sonday  were  upon  hir  heed. 
Hir  hosen  weren  of  fyn  scarlet  reed,  456 


457-534-] 


A.     THE   TROLOGUE. 


471 


Ful  streite  y-teyd,  and  shoos  ful  moiste 

and  ncwe. 
Bold  was  hir  face,  and  fair,  and  reed  of 

hewe. 
She  was  a  worthy  womman  al  hir  lyve, 
Ilousbondes  at  chirche-dore  she  hadde 

fyve,  460 

Withouten  other  companye  in  youthe; 
But  therof  nedeth  nat  to  speke  as  nouthe. 
And  thryes  hadde  she  been  at  lerusalem; 
She    hadde    passed    many    a    straunge 

streem ; 
At    Rome    she    hadde     been,    and    at 

Boloigne,  465 

In  Galice  at  seint  lame,  and  at  Coloigne. 
She  coude  muche  of   wandring  by   the 

weye : 
Ga(:-tothed  was  she,  soothly  for  to  seye. 
Up-on  an  amblere  esily  she  sat, 
Y-wimpled  wel,  and  on  hir  heed  an  hat 
As  brood  as  is  a  b'Bkeler  or  a  targe;    471 
A  foot-mantel  aboute  hir  hipes  large. 
And  on  hir  feet  a  paire  of  spores  sharpe. 
In  felawschip  wel  coude  she  laughe  and 

carpe. 
Of    remedyes   of    love   she   knew   per- 

chaunce,  475 

For  she   coude    of    that    art   the    olde 

daunce. 
A  good  man  was  ther  of  religioun. 
And  was  a  povre  Persoun  of  a  toun; 
But   riche  he  was  of  holy  thoght   and 

werk. 
He  was  also  a  lerned  man,  a  clerk,     480 
That     Cristes     gospel     trewely     wolde 

preche; 
His  parisshens  devoutly  wolde  he  teche, 
Benigne  he  was,  and  wonder  diligent. 
And  in  adversitee  ful  pacient; 
And  swich  he  was  y-preved  ofte  sythes. 
Ful    looth   were    him   to   cursen   for    his 

tythes,  486 

But  rather  wolde  he  yeven,  out  of  doute, 
Un-to  his  povre  parisshens  aboute 
Of  his  offring,  and  eek  of  his  substaunce. 
He  coude  in  litel  thing  han  sufRsaunce. 
Wyd  was  his  parisshe,  and  houses   fer 

a-sonder,  491 

But  he  ne  lafte  nat,  for  reyn  ne  thonder, 
In  siknes  nor  in  nieschief,  to  visyte 
The   ferreste  in  his  parisshe,  muche  and 

lyte, 
Up-on  his  feet,  and  in  his  hand  a  staf. 


This  noble    ensample    to    his  sheep   he 

yaf,  496 

That  first  he  wroghte,  and  afterward  he 

taughte; 
Out  of  the  gospel  he  the  wordes  caughte; 
And  this  figure  he  added  eek  ther-to, 
That  if  gold  ruste,  what  shal  iren  do? 
For   if  a   preest   be   foul,    on    whom   we 

truste,  501 

No  wonder  is  a  lewed  man  to  ruste; 
And  shame  it  is,  if  a  preest  take  keep, 
A  shiten  shepiierde  and  a  clene  sheep. 
Wel  oghte  a  preest  ensample  for  to  yive, 
By   his   clennesse,    how    that   his   sheep 

shold  live.  506 

He  sette  nat  his  benefice  to  hyre. 
And   leet    his  sheep    encombred   in  the 

myre. 
And  ran  to  London,  un-to  seynt  Poules, 
To  seken  him  a  chaunterie  for  soules. 
Or  with  a  bretherhed  to  been  withholde ; 
But  dwelte  at  hoom,  and  kepte  wel  his 

folde,  512 

So  that  the  wolf  ne  made  it   nat  mis- 

carie; 
He  was  a  shepherde  and  no  mercenarie. 
And  though  he  holy  were,  and  vertuous, 
He  was  to  sinful  man  nat  despitous,    516 
Ne  of  his  speche  daungerous  ne  digne, 
But  in  his  teching  discreet  and  benigne. 
To  drawen  folk  to  heven  by  fairnesse 
By  good  ensample,  was  his  bisinesse  : 
But  it  were  any  persone  obstinat,         521 
What-so  he  were,  of  heigh  or  lovve  estat, 
Him  wolde  he  snibben  sharply  for  the 

nones. 
A  bettre    preest,   I   trowe   that    nowher 

noon  is. 
He  wayted  after  no  pompe  and  rever- 
ence, 525 
Ne  maked  him  a  spyced  conscience. 
But  Cristes  lore,  and  his  apostles  twelve, 
He  taughte,  and  first  he   folwed  it  him- 

selve. 
With  him  ther  was  a  Plowman,  was 

his  brother, 
That  hadde   y-lad  of  dong  ful  many  a 

fother,  530 

A  trewe  swinker  and  a  good  was  he, 
Livinge  in  pees  and  parfit  charitee. 
God  loved  he  best  with  al  his  hole  herte 
At     alle    tymes,   thogh    him    gamed    or 

smerte, 


472 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[535-61 r 


And  thanne  his  neighebour  right  as  him- 

selve.  535 

He  wolde  thresshe,  and  ther-to  dyke  and 

delve, 
For  C'ristes  sake,  for  every  povre  vi'ight, 
With  oaten  hyre,  if  it  lay  in  his  might. 
Ills  tythes  payed  he  ful  faire  and  wcl, 
l5othe  of  his  propre  swink  and  his  catel. 
In  a  taliard  he  rood  upon  a  mere.        541 

Ther  was  also  a  Reve  and  a  Millere, 
A  Somnour  and  a  Pardoner  also, 
A    Maunciple,    and  my-self;     ther    were 

namo. 
The  Miller  was  a  stout  carl,  for  the 

nones,  545 

Ful  big  he  was  of  braun,  and  eek   of 

bones; 
That  proved  wel,  for  over-al  ther  he  cam, 
At  wrastling  he  wolde  have  alwey  the 

ram. 
He  was  short-sholdred,  brood,  a  thikke 

knarre, 
Ther  nas  no  dore  that  he  nolde  heve  of 

harre,  550 

Or  breke  it,  at  a  renning,  with  his  heed. 
His  herd  as  any  sowe  or  fox  was  reed. 
And  ther-to  brood,  as  though  it  were  a 

spade. 
Up-on  the  cop  right  of  his  nose  he  hade 
A    werte,    and    ther-on    stood    a    tuft   of 

heres,  555 

Reed  as  the  bristles  of  a  sowes  eres; 
His  nose-lhirles  blake  were  and  wyde. 
A    swerd    and    bokeler    bar    he    by    his 

syde ; 
His  mouth  as  greet  was  as  a  greet  for- 

neys. 
He  was  a  langlere  and  a  goliardeys,  560 
And  that  was  most  of  sinne    and  har- 

lotryes. 
Wel   coude  he   stelen    corn,  and   toUen 

thryes; 
And  yet  he  hadde  a   thombe  of  gold, 

pardee. 

A  whyt  cote  and  a  blew  hood  wered  he. 
A  baggepype  wel   coude  he  blowe  and 

sowne,  565 

And  ther-with-al  he   broghte  us  out  of 

towne. 
A   gentil    MAUNCIPLE  was   ther   of  a 

temple, 
Of  which  achatours  mighte  take  exemple 
For  to  be  wyse  in  bying  of  vitaille. 


For  whether  that  he  payde,  or  took  by 

taille,  570 

Algate  he  wayted  so  in  his  achat. 
That  he  was  ay  biforn  and  in  good  stat. 
Now  is  nat  that  of  God  a  ful  fair  grace, 
That  swich  a  lewed  mannes  wit  shal  pace 
The  wisdom  of  an  heep  of  lerned  men? 
Of  maistres    hadde   he  mo  than  thryes 

ten,  576 

That  were  of  lawe  expert  and  curious; 
Of  which    ther  were    a    doseyn    in    that 

ho  us, 
Worthy  to  been  stiwardes  of  rente  and 

lond 
Of  any  lord  that  is  in  Engelond,  580 

To  make  him  live  by  his  propre  good, 
In  honour  dettelees,  but  he  were  wood, 
Or  live  as  scarsly  as  him  list  desire; 
And  able  for  to  helpen  al  a  shire 
In  any  cas  that  mighte  falle  or  happe; 
And  yit   this  maunciple   sette   hir   aller 

cappe.  586 

The  Reve  was  a  sclendre  colerik  man, 
His  herd  was  shave  as  ny  as  ever  he  can. 
His  heer  was  by  his  eres  round  y-shorn. 
His  top  was  dokked  lyk  a  preest  biforn. 
Ful  longe  were  his  legges,  and  ful  lene, 
Y-lyk  a  staf,  ther  was  no  calf  y-sene.  592 
Wel  coude  he  kepe  a  gerner  and  a  binne; 
Ther  was   noon   auditour   coude  on  him 

winne. 
Wel  wiste  he,  by  the  droghte,  and  by  the 

reyn,  595 

The  yelding  of  his  seed,  and  of  his  greyn. 
His  lordes  sheep,  his  neet,  his  dayerye. 
His   swyn,  his  hors,  his   stoor,  and   his 

pultrye. 
Was  hoolly  in  this  reves  governing,    599 
And  by  his  covenaunt  yaf  the  rekening. 
Sin  that  his  lord  was  twenty  yeer  of  age; 
Ther  coude  no  man  bringe  him  in  arrer- 

age. 
Ther  nas  baillif,  ne  herde,  ne  other  hyne, 
That  he  ne    knew  his  sleighte    and  his 

covyne ;  604 

They  were  adrad  of  him,  as  of  the  deeth. 
His  woning  was  ful  fair  up-on  an  heeth, 
With  grene  trees  shadwed  was  his  place. 
He  coude  bettre  than  his  lord  purchace. 
Ful  riche  he  was  astored  prively, 
His  lord  wel  coude  he  plesen  subtilly, 
To    yeve    and    lene    him    of    his    owne 

good,  611 


612-685.] 


THE   PROLOGUE. 


473 


And  have  a  thank,  and  yet  a  cote  and 

hood. 
In    youthe    he    lerned    hadde    a    good 

niis.ter; 
<     He  was  a  wel  good  wrighte,  a  carpenter. 
l^       This  revc  sat  up-on  a  ful  good  slot,     615 
That  was  al  pomely  grey,  and  highte  Scot. 
A  long  surcote  of  pcrs  up-on  he  hade, 
And  by  his  syde  lie  bar  a  rusty  blade. 
Of  N'orthfolk  was  this  reve,  of  which  I 

telle, 
Bisyde  a  toun  men  clepen  Baldeswelle. 
Tukked  he  was,  as  is  a  frere,  aboute,  621 
And  ever  he  rood  the  hindreste  of  our 

route. 
A  SoMNOUR  was  ther  with  us  in  that 

place, 
That  hadde  a  fyr-reed  cherubinnes  face. 
For  sawcefleem  he  was,  with  eyen  narwe. 
As    hoot    he    was,    and    lecherous,    as    a 

sparwe;  626 

With    scalled    browes    blake,    and    piled 

herd ; 
Of  his  visage  children  were  aferd. 
Ther    nas    quik-silver,    litarge,  ne    brim- 

stoon. 
Boras,  ceruce,  ne  oille  of  tartre  noon,  630 
Ne  oynement  that  wolde  dense  and  byte. 
That  him  mighte  helpen  of  his  whelkes 

whyte, 
Nor    of    the    knobbes    sittinge    on    his 

chekes. 
Wel  loved  he  garleek,  oynons,  and  eek 

lekes, 
And  for  to  drinken  strong  wyn,  reed  as 

blood.  635 

Thanne  wolde  he  speke,  and  crye  as  he 

were  wood. 
And  whan  that  he  wel  dronken  hadde 

the  wyn. 
Than  wolde  he  speke  no  word  but  Latyn. 
A  fcwe  termes  hadde  he,  two  or  three, 
That  he  had  lerned  out  of  som  decree; 
No  wonder  is,  he  herde  it  al  the  day;  641 
And  eek  ye  knowen  wel,  how  that  a  lay 
Can  clepen  '  Watte,'  as  well  as  can  the 

pope. 
But  who-so  coude  in   other   thing   him 

grope, 
Thanne  hadde  he  spent  al  his  philoso- 

phye;  645 

Ay  '  Qufs/io  quid  juris '  wolde  he  crye. 
He  was  a  gentil  harlot  and  a  kinde; 


A  l)ettre  felawe  sholde  men  noght  finde. 
He  wolde  suffrc,  for  a  (piart  of  wyn, 
A  good  felawe  to  have  his  concubyn  650 
A  twelf-month,  and  excuse  him  atte  fulle  : 
Ful  prively  a  finch  eek  coude  he  puUe. 
And  if  he  fond  o-wher  a  gocxl  felawe. 
He  wolde  techen  him  to  have  non  awe. 
In  swich  cas,  of  the  erchedeknes  curs,  655 
But-if  a  mannes  soule  were  in  his  purs; 
For  in  his  purs  he  sholde  y-punisshed  be. 
'  Purs  is  the  erchedeknes  helle,'  scyde  he. 
But  wel  1  woot  he  lyed  right  in  dede; 
Of    cursing    oghte    ech    gilty    man    him 

drede  —  660 

For    curs   wol   slee,   right    as   assoilling 

saveth  — 
And  also  war  him  of  a  significavit. 
In  daunger  hadde  he  at  his  owne  gyse 
The  yonge  gi;:les  of  the  diocyse, 
And  knew  hir  counseil,  and  was  al  hit 

reed.  665 

A  gerland  hadde  he  set  up-on  his  heed. 
As  greet  as  it  were  for  an  alt-stake; 
A  bokeler  hatlde  he  maad  him  of  a  cake. 
With  him  ther  rood  a  gentil  Pakdoner 
Of  Rouncival,  his  freend  and  his  com- 
peer, 670 
That  streight  was  comen  fro  the  court  of 

Rome. 
Ful  loude  he  song,  '  Com  hider,  love,  to 

me.' 
This  somnour  bar  to  him  a  stif  burdoun, 
Was   never  trompe   of  half  so   greet   a 

soun. 
This  pardoner  hadde  heer  as  yelow  as 

wex,  675 

But  smothe  it  heng,  as  dooth  a  strike  of 

flex; 
By    ounces    henge    his    lokkes   that   he 

hadde, 
And    ther-with    he    his    shuldres    over- 

spradde; 
But  thinne   it  lay,  by  colpons  oon  and 

oon; 
But  hood,  forvlolitee,  ne  wered  he  noon, 
P"or  it  was  trussed  up  in  his  walet.       681 
Him  thoughte,  he  rood  al  of  the  newe 

let; 
Dischevele,  save  his  cappe,  he   rood  al 

bare. 
Swiche    glaringe    eyen   hadde  he  as  an 

hare.  684 

A  vernicle  hadde  he  sowed  on  his  cappe. 


474 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[6S6-764. 


His  walet  lay  biforn  him  in  his  lappe, 
Bret-ful  of  pardoun  come  from  Rome  al 

hoot. 
A  voys  he  hadde  as  smal  as  hath  a  goot. 
No  herd  hadde  he,  ne  never  sholde  have, 
As   smothe  it   was   as   it   were    late   y- 
shave;  690 

T  trowe  he  were  a  gelding  or  a  mare. 
Jiut  of  his  craft,  fro  Bervvil:  into  Ware, 
Ne  was  ther  swich  another  pardoner. 
For  in  his  male  he  hadde  a  pilwe-beer. 
Which    that,   he   seyde,    was    our    lady 
veyl :  695 

He  seyde,  he  hadde  a  gobet  of  the  seyl 
That   seynt  Peter  hadde,  whan  that  he 

wente 
Up-on  the  see,  til  lesu  Crist  him  hente. 
He    hadde    a   croys    of    latoun,   ful    of 

stones, 
And  in  a  glas  he  hadde  pigges  bones.  700 
But  with  thise  relikes,  whan  that  he  fond 
A  povre  person  dwelling  up-on  lond, 
Up-on  a  day  he  gat  him  more  moneye 
Than   that   the  person  gat   in   monthes 

tweye. 
And    thus,    with    feyned    flaterye     and 
Tapes,  705 

He  made  the  person  and  the  peple  his 

apes. 
But  trewely  to  tellen,  atte  laste, 
He  was  in  chirche  a  noble  ecclesiaste. 
Wei  coude  he  rede  a  lessoun  or  a  storie, 
But  alderbest  he  song  an  offertorie;     710 
For  wel  he  wiste,  whan  that  song  was 

songe, 
He    moste    preche,    and   wel  affyle   his 

tonge. 
To  winne  silver,  as  he  ful  wel  coude; 
Therefore  he  song  so  meriely  and  loude. 
Now   have    I  told   you   shortly,   in   a 
clause,  7'5 

Thestat,  tharray,  the   nombre,   and   eek 

the  cause 
Why  that  assembled  was  this  companye 
In  South werk,  at  this  gentil  hostelrye. 
That    highte    the   Tabard,   faste   by  the 

Belle. 
But  now  is  tyme  to  yow  for  to  telle      720 
How  that  we  baren  us  that  ilke  night, 
Whan  we  were  in  that  hostelrye  alight. 
And  after  wol  I  telle  of  our  viage. 
And  al  the  remenaunt  of  our  pilgrimage. 
But  first  I  pray  yow,  of  your  curteisye, 


That  ye  narette  it  nat  my  vileinye,       726 
Thogh    that    I    pleynly    speke    in    this 

matere. 
To  telle  yow  hir  wordes  and  hir  chere; 
Ne  thogh  I  speke  hir  wordes  properly. 
For  this  ye  knowen  al-so  w'cl  as  1,       730 
Who-so  shal  telle  a  tale  after  a  man, 
He  moot  reherce,  as  ny  as  ever  he  can, 
Everich  a  word,  if  it  be  in  his  charge, 
Al   speke   he    never    so   rudeliche    and 

large; 
Or  elles  he  moot  telle  his  tale  untrewe, 
Or      feyne     thing,     or     finde     wordes 
newe.  73^ 

He  may  nat  spare,  al-thogh  he  were  his 

brother; 
He  moot  as  wel  seye  o  word  as  another. 
Crist  spak  him-self  ful  brode  in  holy  writ, 
And  wel  ye  woot,  no  vileinye  is  it.       740 
Eek    Plato   seith,  who-so  that  can  him 

rede, 
The  wordes  mote  be  cosin  to  the  dede. 
Also  I  prey  yow  to  foryeve  it  me, 
Al  have  I  nat  set  folk  in  hir  degree 
Here  in   this  tale,  as   that   they  sholde 
stonde;  745 

My  wit  is  short,  ye  may  wel  understonde. 
Greet  chere  made  our  hoste  us  everi- 
chon. 
And  to  the  soper  sette  he  us  anon; 
And  served  us  with  vitaille  at  the  beste. 
Strong  was  the  wyn,  and  wel  to  drinke 
us  leste.  750 

A  semely  man  our  hoste  was  with-alle 
For  to  han  been  a  marshal  in  an  halle; 
A  large  man  he  was  with  eyen  stepe, 
A  fairer  burgeys  is  ther  noon  in  Chepe : 
Bold  of  his  speche,  and  wys,  and  wel  y- 
taught,  755 

And    of    manhood    him    lakkede    right 

naught. 
Eek  therto  he  was  right  a  mery  man, 
And  after  soper  pleyen  he  bigan, 
And    spak    of   mirthe    amonges    othere 

thinges, 
Whan  that  we  hadde  maad  our  reken- 
inges;  7^° 

And     seyde     thus:      'Now,    lordinges, 

trewely. 
Ye  been  to  me  right  welcome  hertely : 
For  by  my  trouthe,  if  that  I  shal  nat  lye, 
I   ne   saugh    this    yeer  so  mery    a   com- 
panye 


765-838.] 


A.     THE   PROLOGUE. 


475 


At  ones  in  this  herberwe  as  is  now.     765 
Fayn  wolde  I  doon  yow  niirthe,  wistc  I 

how. 
And    of   a    mirthe  I  am   right    now    bi- 

thoght, 
To    doon    yow    ese,  and   it   shal   coste 

noght. 
Ye    goon    to  Caunterbury;   God    yow 

spede, 
The     bHsful    martir     quyte     yow    your 

mede.  770 

And  wel  I  woot,  as  ye  goon  by  the  weye, 
Ye  sliapen  yow  to  talen  and  to  pleye; 
For  trcwely,  confort  ne  mirthe  is  noon 
To  ryde  by  the  weye  doumb  as  a  stoon; 
Anti  therfore  wol  I  maken  yow  disport, 
As  I  seyde  erst,  and  doon  yow  som  con- 
fort.  776 
And  if  yow  lyketh  alle,  by  oon  assent, 
Now  for  to  stonden  at  my  lugement, 
And  for  to  werken  as  I  shal  yow  seye, 
To-morwe,     whan    ye     ryden    by     the 

weye,  780 

Now,  by  my  fader  soule,  that  is  deed. 
But  ye  be  merye,  I  wol  yeve  yow  myn 

heed. 
Hold    up   your    bond,   withouten    more 

speche.' 
Our    counseil  was    nat    longe    for   to 

seche; 
Us  though  te  it  was  noght  worth  to  make 

it  wys,  785 

And  graunted  him  withouten  more  avys, 
And    bad   him    seye  his   verdit,  as  him 

leste. 
'  Lordinges,'  quod  he,  '  now  herkneth 

for  the  beste; 
r>ut  tak  it  not,  I  prey  yow,  in  desdeyn; 
This  is  the  poynt,  to  speken   short  and 

pleyn  790 

That    ech   of  yow,  to   shorte  with   your 

weye. 
In  this  viage,  shal  telle  tales  tweye. 
To  Caunterbury-ward,  I  mene  it  so, 
And    hom-ward    he    shal    tellen   othere 

two, 
Of  aventures  that  whylom  han  bifalle. 
And  which  of  yow  that  bereth  him  best 

of  alle,  796 

That  is  to  seyn,  that  telleth  in  this  cas 
Tales  of  best  sentence  and  most  solas, 
Shal  have  a  super  at  our  aller  cost 
Here  in  this  place,  sitting  by  this  post, 


Whan  that  we  come  agayn  fro  Caunter- 
bury. 801 
And  for  to  make  yow  the  more  mery, 
I  wol  my-selven  gladly  wilh  yow  ryde. 
Right  at  myn    owne   cost,   and  be   your 

gyde. 
And    who-so   wol    my   lugement    with- 

seye  805 

Shal    paye   al  that  we  spendcn    by  the 

weye. 
And  if  ye  vouche-sauf  that  it  be  so, 
Tel  me  anon,  with-outen  wordes  mo, 
And  I  wol  erly  shape  me  therfore.' 

This    thing    was    graunted,    and    our 

othes  swore  8lo 

With    ful  glad  herte,  and  preyden   him 

also 
That  he  wold  vouche-sauf  for  to  do  so, 
And  that  he  wolde  been  our  governour. 
And  of  our  tales  luge  and  reportour. 
And  sette  a  soper  at  a  certeyn  prys;    815 
And  we  wold  reuled  been  at  his  devys. 
In    heigh  and  lowe;   and  thus,  by  oon 

assent. 
We  been  acorded  to  his  lugement. 
And  ther-up-on  the  wyn  was  fet  anon; 
We  dronken,  and  to  reste  wente  echon, 
With-outen  any  lenger  taryinge.  821 

A-morwe,    whan     that    day    bigan    to 

springe, 
Up  roos  our  host,  and  was  our  aller  cok. 
And  gadrede  us  togidre,  alle  in  a  flok. 
And    forth    we  riden,  a  litel  more  than 

pas,  825 

Un-to  the  watering  of  seint  Thomas. 
And  there  our  host  bigan  his  hors  areste, 
And  seyde;  '  Lordinges,  herkneth,  if  yow 

leste. 
Ye  woot  your  forward,  and  I  it  yow  re- 

corde. 
If  even-song  and  morvve-songacorde,  S30 
Lat  se  now  who  shal  telle  the  firste  tale. 
As  ever  mote  I  drinke  wyn  or  ale, 
Who-so  be  rebel  to  my  lugement 
Shal    paye    for    al    that   by   the   weye   is 

spent. 
Now    draweth   cut,    er    that    we    ferrer 

twinne;  835 

He  which  that  hath  the  shortest  shal  bi- 

ginne. 
Sire    knight,'  c|uod  he,  '  my  maister  and 

my  lord. 
Now  draweth  cut,  for  that  is  myn  acord. 


476 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[839-899. 


Cometh  neer,'  quod  he,  '  my  lady  prior- 

esse; 
And  ye,  sir  clerk,  lat  be  your  shamfast- 

nesse,  840 

Ne  studieth   noght;   ley   hond   to,   every 

man.' 
Anon  to  drawen  every  wight  bigan. 
And  shortly  for  to  tellen,  as  it  was. 
Were  it  by  aventure,  or  sort,  or  cas, 
The    sothe    is   this,   the    cut    fil    to    the 

knight,  845 

Of  which  ful  blythe  and  glad  was  every 

wight; 
And  telle  he  moste  his  tale,  as  was  resoun, 
By  forward  and  by  composicioun, 


As   ye  han  herd;    what  nedeth  wordes 

mo? 
And  whan  this  gode  man  saugh  it  was 

so,  850 

As  he  that  wys  was  and  obedient 
To  kepe  his  forward  by  his  free  assent. 
He  seyde  :   '  Sin  I  shal  biginne  the  game. 
What,    welcome    be   the    cut,  a  Goddes 

name ! 
Now   lat  us  ryde,  and  herkneth  what  I 

seye.'  _  855 

And  with  that  word  we  riden  forth  our 

weye; 
And  he  bigan  with  right  a  mery  chere 
His  tale  anon,  and  seyde  in  this  manere. 


Here  endeth  the  trolog  of  this  book;  and  here  biginncth  the  first  tale,  which  is  the 

Knightes  Tale. 


THE    KNIGHTES   TALE. 


lamque  domos  patrias,  Scithice  post  aspera  gentis 
Prelia,  laurigero,  &'c. 

[Statius,  Theb.  xii.  519.] 


Whylom,  as  olde  stories  tellen  us, 
Ther  was  a  duk  that  highte  Theseus;  860 
Of  Athenes  he  was  lord  and  governour. 
And  in  his  tyme  swich  a  conquerour. 
That  gretter  was  ther  noon   under   the 

Sonne. 
Ful    many   a   riche    contree    hadde   he 

wonne ; 
What  with  his  wisdom  and  his  chival- 

rye,  865 

He  conquered  al  the  regne  of  Femenye, 
That  whylom  was  y-cleped  Scithia; 
And  weddede  the  quene  Ipolita, 
And  broghte  hir  hoom  with  him  in  his 

contree 
With  muchel  gloria  and  greet  solempni- 

tee,  870 

And  eek  hir  yonge  suster  Emelye. 
And  thus  with  victorie  and  with  melodye 
Lete  I  this  noble  duk  to  Athenes  ryde, 
And  al  his  boost,  in  armes,  him  bisyde. 
And    certes,    if    it    nere    to    long   to 

here,  875 

I  wolde  han  told  yow  fully  the  manere. 
How  wonnen  was  the  regne  of  Femenye 


By  Theseus,  and  by  his  chivalrye; 
And  of  the  grete  bataille  for  the  nones 
Bitwixen  Athenes  and  Amazones;        880 
And  how  asseged  was  Ipolita, 
The  faire  hardy  quene  of  Scithia; 
And  of  the  feste  that  was  at  hir  weddinge. 
And  of  the  tempest  at  hir  hoom-cominge; 
But  al   that  thing  I  moot  as   now  for- 

bere.  885 

I  have,  God  woot,  a  large  feeld  to  ere. 
And  wayke  been  the  oxen  in  my  plough. 
The  remenant  of  the  tale  is  long  y-nough. 
I  wol  nat  letten  eek  noon  of  this  route; 
Lat  every  felawe  telle  his  tale  aboute. 
And   lat   see    now   who   shal  the   soper 

winne;  891 

And  ther  I  lefte,  I  wol  ageyn  biginne. 

This  duk,  of  whom  I  make  mencioun. 
When    he    was    come   almost   unto  the 

toun, 
In  al  his  wele  and  in  his  moste  pryde,  895 
He  was-'war,  as  he  caste  his  eye  asyde, 
Wher  that  ther  kneled  in  the  hye  weye 
A  companye  of  ladies,  tweye  and  tweye, 
Ech  after  other,  clad  in  clothes  blake; 


900-978.] 


A.     THE   KNIGHTES  TALE. 


477 


But   swich  a  cry  and  swich  a  wo  they 

make,  900 

That  in  this  world  nis  creature  livinge, 
That  herde  swich  another  weymentinge  ; 
And  of  this  cry  they  nolde  never  stenten, 
Til  they  the  reynes  of  his  brydel  henten. 
'  What  folk  ben  ye,  that  at  myn  hoom- 

cominge  905 

Perturben  so  my  feste  with  cryinge?' 
Quod  Theseus,  '  have  ye  so  greet  envye 
Of  myn  honour,  that  thus  compleyne  and 

crye  ? 
Or  who  hath  yow  misboden,  or  offended? 
And  telleth  me  if  it  may  been  amended; 
And  why  that  ye  ben    clothed    thus  in 

blak?'  911 

The  eldest  lady  of  hem  alle  spak, 
When  she  hadde  swowned  with  a  deedly 

chere. 
That  it  was  routhe  for  to  seen  and  here. 
And    seyde :    '  Lord,    to    whom    Fortune 

hath  yiven  915 

Victorie,  and  as  a  conquerour  to  liven, 
Noght  greveth  us  your  glorie  and  your 

honour; 
But  we  biseken  mercy  and  socour. 
Have  mercy  on  our  wo  and  our  distresse. 
Som    drope  of  pitee,  thurgh  thy  gentil- 

lesse,  920 

Up-on    us   wrecched   wommen   lat  thou 

falle. 
For  certes,  lord,  ther  nis  noon  of  us  alle, 
That   she   nath   been    a   duchesse    or   a 

quene; 
Now  be  we  caitifs,  as  it  is  wel  sene : 
Thanked     be     Fortune,    and    hir    false 

wheel,  925 

That  noon  estat  assureth  to  be  weel. 
And  certes,  lord,  to  abyden  your  presence, 
Here    in    the   temple   of    the    goddesse 

Clemence 
We  han  ben  way  tinge  al  this  fourtenight; 
Now    help    us,    lord,   sith    it   is   in    thy 

might.  930 

I  wrecche,  which  that  wepe  and  waille 

thus. 
Was  whylom  wyf  to  king  Capaneus, 
That  starf  at  Thebes,  cursed  be  that  day  ! 
And  alle  we,  that  been  in  this  array, 
.And  maken  al.  this  lamentacioun,         935 
We  losten  alle  our  housbondes  at  that 

toun, 
Whyl  that  the  sege  ther-aboute  lay. 


And  yet  now  the  olde  Creon,  weylaway ! 
That  lord  is  now  of  Thebes  the  citee, 
Fullild  of  ire  and  of  iniquitee,  940 

He,  for  despyt,  and  for  his  tirannye, 
To  do  the  dede  bodyes  vileinye. 
Of  alle  our  lordes,  whiche  that  ben  slawe, 
Hath  alle  the  bodyes  on  an  heep  y-drawe. 
And    wol    nat    suffren    hem,    by    noon 

assent,  945 

Neither  to  been  y-buried  nor  y-brent, 
But  maketh  houndes  ete  hem  in  despyt.' 
And    with    that   word,  with-outen  more 

respyt, 
They  fillen  gruf,  and  cryden  pitously, 
'  Have    on    us  wrecched   wommen   som 

mercy,  950 

And  lat  our  sorwe  sinken  in  thyn  herte.' 

This  gentil  duk  doun  from  his  courser 

sterte 
With  herte  pitous,  whan  he  herde  hem 

speke. 
Him  thoughte  that  his  herte  wolde  breke^ 
Whan  he  saugh   hem  so  pitous  and  so 

mat,  955 

That  whylom  weren  of  so  greet  estat. 
And  in  his  armes  he  hem  alle  up  hente, 
And  hem  comforteth  in  ful  good  entente; 
And  swoor  his  ooth,  as  he  was   trewe 

knight,  ,, ..    :  959 

He  wolde  doon  so  ferforthly  his  might 
L'p-on  the  tyraunt  Creon  hem  to  wrt-ke, 
That  al  the  peple  of  Grece  sholde  speke 
How  Creon  was  of  Theseus  y-served, 
As  he  that  hadde  his  deeth  ful  wel  de- 
served. 964 
And  right  anoon,  with-outen  more  abood. 
His  baner  he  desplayeth,  and  forth  rood 
To  Thebes-ward,  and  al  his  host  bisyde; 
No  neer  Athenes  wolde  he  go  ne  ryde, 
Ne  take  his  ese  fully  half  a  day. 
But   onward   on  his  wey  that    night   he 

lay;  970 

And  sente  anoon  Ipolita  the  quene. 
And  Emelye  hir  yonge  suster  shene, 
Un-to  the  toun  of  Athenes  to  dwelle; 
And  forth  he  rit;     ther   nis  namore  to 

telle. 
The  rede  statue  of  Mars,  with  spere 

and  targe,  975 

So  shyneth  in  his  whyte  baner  large. 
That   alle   the    feeldes   gliteren   up   and 

doun; 
And  by  his  baner  born  is  his  penoun 


478 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[979-1056. 


Of  gold    ful   riche,   in   which   ther   was 

y-bete 
The  Minotaur,  which  that  he  slough  in 

Crete.  980 

Thus  rit  this  duk,  thus  rit  this  conquerour, 
And  in  his  host  of  chivalrye  the  flour, 
Til  that  he  cam  to  Thebes,  and  alighte 
Faire    in    a    feeld,   ther   as    he    thoghte 

fighte. 
But  shortly  for  to  speken  of  this  thing,  985 
With  Creon,  which  that  was  of  Thebes 

king, 
He  faught,  and  slough  him  manly  as  a 

knight 
In  pleyn  bataille,  and  putte  the  folk  to 

flight; 
And  by  assaut  he  wan  the  citee  after, 
And  rente  adoun  bothe  vval,  and  sparre, 

and  rafter;  990 

And  to  the  ladyes  he  restored  agayn 
The  bones  of  hir  housbondes  that  were 

slayn, 
To  doon  obsequies,  as  was  tho  the  gyse. 
But  it  were  al  to  long  for  to  devyse 
The    grete    clamour   and    the   wayment- 

inge  995 

That  the  ladyes  made  at  the  brenninge 
Of  the  bodyes,  and  the  grete  honour 
That  Theseus,  the  noble  conquerour, 
Doth  to  the  ladyes,  whan  they  from  him 

wente; 
But  shortly  for  to  telle  is  myn  entente.  looo 
Whan  that  this  worthy  duk,  this  Theseus, 
Hath  Creon  slayn,  and  wonne  Thebes  thus, 
Stille  in  that  feeld  he  took  al  night  his 

reste. 
And  dide  with  al  the  contree  as  him  leste. 
To    ransake    in    the    tas    of    bodyes 

dede,  1005 

Hem  for  to  strepe    of  barneys   and   of 

wede. 
The  pilours  diden  bisinesse  and  cure, 
After  the  liataille  and  disconfiture. 
And  so  bifel,  that  in  the  tas  they  founde, 
Thurgh-girt  with  many  a  grevous  blody 

wounde,  lOlO 

Two  yonge  knightes  ligging  by  and  by, 
Bothe  in  oon  armes,  wroght  ful  richely. 
Of  whiche  two,  Arcita  hight  that  oon. 
And  that  other  knight  hight  Palamon. 
Nat    fully    quike,    ne    fully    dede    they 

were,  1015 

But  by  hir  cote-armures,  and  by  hir  gere, 


The  heraudes  knewe  hem  best  in  special. 
As  they  that  weren  of  the  blood  royal 
Of  Thebes,  and  of  sustren  two  y-born. 
Out    of    the    tas   the   pilours   han    hem 

torn,  1020 

And  han  hem  caried  softe  un-to  the  tente 
Of  Theseus,  and  he  ful  sone  hem  sente 
To  Athenes,  to  dwellen  in  prisoun 
Perpetuelly,  he  nolde  no  raunsoun. 
And    whan    this  worthy   duk    hath    thus 

y-don,  1025 

He   took   his   host,  and   hoom  he  rood 

anon 
With  laurer  crowned  as  a  conquerour; 
And    there    he    liveth,    in    loye    and    in 

honour, 
Terme  of  his  lyf;    what  nedeth  wordes 

mo? 
And  in  a  tour,  in  angwish  and  in  wo,  1030 
Dwellen  this  Palamoun  and  eek  Arcite, 
P'or   evermore,   ther  may   no   gold  hem 

quyte. 
This  passeth  yeer  by  yeer,  and  day  by 

day. 
Til  it  til  ones,  in  a  morwe  of  May, 
That  Emelye,  that  fairer  was  to  sene    1035 
Than  is  the  lilie  upon  his  stalke  grene. 
And  fressher  than  the  May  with  floures 

newe  — 
For  with  the  rose  colour  stroof  hir  hewe, 
I  noot  which  was  the  fairer  of  hem  two  — 
Er  it  were  day,  as  was  hir  wone  to  do,  1040 
She  was  arisen,  and  al  redy  dight; 
For  May  wol  have  no  slogardye  a-niglit. 
The  sesoun  priketh  every  gentil  herte, 
And  maketh  him  out  of  his  sleep  to  sterte, 
And    seith,   '  Arys,  and    do    thyn    obser- 

vaunce.'  I045 

This  maked  Emelye  have  remembraunce 
To  doon  honour  to  May,  and  for  to  ryse. 
Y-clothed  was  she  fresh,  for  to  devyse; 
Hir  yelow  heer  was  broyded  in  a  tresse, 
Behinde     hir     bak,    a     yerde     long,    I 

gesse.  105° 

And  in  the  gardin,  at  the  sonne  up-riste, 
She  walketh  up   and    doun,  and    as    hir 

liste 
She   gadereth    floures,  party  whyte    and 

rede. 
To  make  a  jotil  gerland  for  hir  hede,     ^^ 
And  as  an  aungel  hevenly  she  song.    1055 
The  grete  tour,  that  was  so  thikke  and 

strong, 


IOS7-II37-] 


A.     THE   KNIGHTES  TALE. 


479 


Which  of  the  castel  was  the  chief  don- 

geoun, 
(Thcr-as  the  knightes  weren  in  prisoun, 
Of  whiche  1  tolile  yow,  ami  tcUen  shal) 
\Vasevene  loynant  to  the  garclin-wal,  lo6o 
Thcr  as  this  Emelye  hackle  hir  pleyinge. 
Bright    was    the    soniie,   and    cleer    that 

morweninge, 
And  Palamon,  this  woful  prisoner, 
As  was  his  wone,  by  leve  of  his  gayler, 
Was  risen,  and  romed  in  a  chambre  on 

heigh,  1065 

In  which  he  al  the  noble  citee  seigh, 
And  eek    the   gardin,  ful    of  braunches 

grene, 
Ther-as  this  fresshe  Emelye  the  shene 
Was   in   hir    walk,    and    romed    up    and 

doun. 
This  sorweful  prisoner,  this  Palamoun, 
Goth    in    the   chambre,   roming   to   and 

fro,  107 1 

And  to  him-self  compleyning  of  his  wo; 
That  he  was  born,  ful  ofte  he  seyde, '  alas  ! ' 
And  so  bifel,  by  aventure  or  cas. 
That  thurgh  a  window,  thikke  of  many  a 

barre  I075 

Of  yren  greet,  and  square  as  any  sparre, 
He  caste  his  eye  upon  Emelya, 
And  ther-with-al  he  bleynte,  and  cryde 

'a!' 
As   though    he   stongen  were  un-to  the 

herte.  1079 

And  with  that  cry  Arcite  anon  up-sterte, 
And  seyde,  '  Cosin  myn,  what  eyleth  thee, 
That  art  so  pale  and  deedly  on  to  see? 
Why  crydestow?   who   hath    thee   doon 

offence? 
For  Goddes  love,  tak  al  in  pacience 
Our  prisoun,  for  it  may  non  other  be ;    1085 
Fortune  hath  yeven  us  this  adversitee. 
Som  wikke  aspect  or  disposicioun 
Of  Saturne,  by  sum  constellacioun. 
Hath  yeven  us  this,  al-though  we  hadde 

it  sworn; 
So  stood  the  heven  whan  that  we  were 

born;  1090 

We  moste  endure  it :   this  is  the  short  and 

pleyn.' 
This   Palamon    answerdc,    and    seyde 

ageyn, 
'  Cosyn,  for  sothc,  of  this  opinioun 
Thou  hast  a  veyn  imaginacioun. 
This  prison  caused  me  nat  for  to  crye.  1095 


But  I  was  hurt  right  now  thurgh-out  myn 

ye 
In-to  myn  herte,  that  wol  my  l)ane  be. 
The  fairnesse  of  that  lady  that  1  see 
Yond  in  the  gardin  romen  to  and  fro, 
Is  cause  of  al  my  crying  and  my  wo.    1 100 
I  noot  wher  she  be  womman  or  goddesse; 
But  Venus  is  it,  soothly,  as  I  gesse.' 
And  ther-with-al  on  knees  doun  he  fil. 
And  seyde  :   '  Venus,  if  it  be  thy  wil    1 104 
Yow  in  this  gardin  thus  to  transfigure 
Bifore  me,  sorweful  wrecche  creature, 
Out  of  this   prisoun  help  that  we   may 

scapen. 
And  if  so  be  my  destinee  be  shapen 
By  eterne  word  to  dyen  in  prisoun, 
Of  our  linage  have  som  compassioun,  1 1 10 
That  is  so  lowe  y-l)roght  by  tirannye.' 
And  with  that  word  Arcite  gan  espye 
Wher-as  this  lady  romed  to  and  fro. 
And  with  that  sighte  hir  beautee  hurte 

him  so. 
That,    if    that    Palamon    was    wounded 

sore,  1 1 1 5 

Arcite  is  hurt  as  muche  as  he,  or  more. 
And  with  a  sigh  he  seyde  pitously : 
'The  fresshe  beautee  sleeth  me  sodeynly 
Of  hir  that  rometh  in  the  yonder  place; 
And,    but    I    have    hir    mercy    and    hir 

grace,  11 20 

That  I  may  seen  hir  atte  leeste  weye, 
I  nam  but  deed  ;  ther  nis  namore  to  seye.' 
This    Palamon,   whan    he   tho   wordes 

herde, 
Dispitously  he  loked,  and  answerde : 
'  Whether    seistow    this    in   ernest   or  in 

pley?'  1 125 

'  Nay,'  quod  Arcite,  '  in  ernest,  by  my 

fey! 
God  help  me  so,  me  list  ful  yvele  pleye.'       -^'-^ 
This   Palamon   gan   knitte  his  browes 

tweye  : 
'It    nere,'    quod   he,    'to  thee   no  greet 

honour 
For  to  be  fals,  ne  for  to  be  traytour  11 30 
To  me,  that  am  thy  cosin  and  thy  brother 
Y-sworn  ful  depe,  and  ech  of  us  til  other. 
That  never,  for  to  dyen  in  the  peyne, 
Til  that  the  deeth  departe  shal  us  tweyne, 
Neitlicr  of  us  in  love  to  hindren  other, 
Ne  in  non  other  cas,  my  leve  brother; 
But  that  thou  sholdest  trewely  forthrcn 

me  1 137 


480 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1138-1216. 


In  every  cas,  and  I  shal  fortliren  thee. 
This  was  thyn  00th,  and  myn  also,  cer- 

teyn; 
I   wot  right   wel,  thou  darst  it  nat  with- 

seyn.  1140 

Thus  artow  of  my  counsel!,  out  of  doute. 
And  now  thou  woldest  falsly  been  aboute 
To  love  my  lady,  whom  I  love  and  serve, 
And  ever  shal,  til  that  myn  herte  sterve. 
Now    certes,   fals   Arcite,  thou   shalt  nat 

so.  1 145 

I  loved  hir  first,  and  tolde  thee  my  wo 
As  to  my  counseil,  and  my  brother  sworn 
To  forthre  me,  as  I  have  told  biforn. 
For  which  thou  art  y-bounden  as  a  knight 
To  helpen  me,  if  it  lay  in  thy  might,  1 150 
Or  elles  artow  fals,  I  dar  wel  seyn.' 

This  Arcite  ful  proudly  spak  ageyn, 
'  Thou  shalt,'   quod  he,   '  be  rather   fals 

than  I; 
But  thou  art  fals,  I  telle  thee  utterly; 
For    par    amour    I    loved    hir    first    er 

thow.  1 155 

What  wiltow  seyn?  thou  wistest  nat  yet 

now 
Whether  she  be  a  womman  or  goddesse ! 
Thyn  is  affeccioun  of  holinesse. 
And  myn  is  love,  as  to  a  creature; 
For  which  I  tolde  thee  myn  aventure   1 160 
As  to  my  cosin,  and  my  brother  sworn. 
I  pose,  that  thou  lovedest  hir  biforn; 
Wostow  nat  wel  the  olde  clerkes  sawe, 
That  '  who  shal  yeve  a  lover  any  lawe? ' 
Love  is  a  gretter  lawe,  by  my  pan,     11 65 
Than  may  be  yeve  to  any  erthly  man. 
And  therefore  positif  lawe  and  svvich  de- 
cree 
Is  broke  al-day  for  love,  in  ech  degree. 
A  man  moot    nedes   love,   maugree    his 

heed. 
He  may  nat  fleen  it,  thogh  he  sholde  be 

deed,  1 170 

Al  bp  she  mayde,  or  widwe,  or  elles  wyf. 
And  eek  it  is  nat  lykly,  al  thy  lyf, 
To  stonden  in  hir  grace;    namore  shal  I; 
For  wel  thou  woost  thy-selven,  verraily. 
That    thou  and    I    be  dampned  to  pris- 

oun  1 1 75 

Perpetuelly;    us  gayneth  no  raunsoun. 
We  stryve  as  dide  the  houndes  for  the 

boon. 
They  foughte  al  day,  and  yet  hir  part  was 

noon; 


Ther  cam  a  kyte,  whyl  that  they  were 

wrothe. 
And   bar  awey   the   boon   bitwixe    hem 

bothe.  1180 

And   therfore,  at   the    kinges   court,  my 

brother, 
Ech  man  for  him-self,  ther  is  non  other. 
Love  if  thee  list ;   for  I  love  and  ay  shal; 
And  soothly,  leve  brother,  this  is  al. 
Here    in     this    prisoun    mote    we    en- 
dure, 1 185 
And  everich  of  us  take  his  aventure.' 
Greet  was  the  stryf  and  long  bitwixe 

hem  tweye, 
If  that  I  hadde  leyser  for  to  seye; 
But  to  theffect.     It  happed  on  a  day, 
(To  telle  it  yow  as  shortly  as  I  may)  1 190 
A  worthy  duk  that  highte  Perotheus, 
That  felawe  was  un-to  duk  Theseus 
Sin   thilke   day  that  they  were   children 

lyte. 
Was    come    to    Athenes,  his   felawe    to 

visyte, 
And  for  to  pleye,  as  he   was   wont    to 

do,  1195 

For  in  this  world  he  loved  no  man  so : 
And  he  loved  him  as  tendrely  ageyn. 
So  wel  they  loved,  as  olde  Ijokes  seyn. 
That  whan  that  oon  was  deed,  sothly  to 

telle, 
His  felawe  wente  and  soghte  him  doun 

in  helle;  1 200 

But  of  that  story  list  me  nat  to  wryte. 
Duk  Perotheus  loved  wel  Arcite, 
And  hadde  him  knowe  at  Thebes  yeer 

by  yere; 
'And  fynally,  at  requeste  and  preyere 
Of  Perotheus,  with-oute  any  raunsoun, 
Duk  Theseus  him  leet  out  of  prisoun. 
Freely  to  goon,  wher  that  him  liste  over- 

al,  1207 

In  swich  a  gyse,  as  I  you  tellen  shal. 
This  was  the  forward,  pleynly  for  ten- 

dyte, 
Bitwixen  Theseus  and  him  Arcite:     1210 
That    if    so  were,  that    Arcite    were  y- 

founde 
Ever  in  his  lyf,  by  day  or  night  or  stounde 
In  any  contree  of  this  Theseus, 
And  he  were  caught,  it  was  acorded  thus, 
That  with  a  swerd    he   sholde    lese    his 

heed;  1 21 5 

Ther  nas  non  other  remedye  ne  reed, 


I2I7-I296.] 


A.     THE   KNIGHTES  TALE. 


481 


But  taketh  his  leve,  and  homwanl  he  him 

speilde; 
Let  him  be  war,  his  nelvke  lyth  to  wecMe  ! 
I  low  greet  a  sorwe  sufTreth  now  Ar- 
cite ! 
The   deeth   he  feleth    thurgh   his   herte 
smyte;  1220 

He  wepeth,  waylcth,  cryeth  pitously; 
To  sleen  him-self  lie  waytcth  prively. 
He   seyde,    '  Alias   that  day  that   I   was 

born  ! 
Now  is  my  prison  worse  than  biforn; 
Now  is  me  shape  eternally  to  dvvelle   1225 
Noght  in  purgatorie,  but  in  helle. 
Alias  !   that  ever  knew  I  Perotheus  ! 
For  dies  hadde  I  dwelled  with  Theseus 
Y-fetered  in  his  prisoun  ever-mo. 
Than  hadde  I  been  in  blisse,  and  nat  in 
wo.  1230 

Only  the  sighte  of  hir,  whom  that  I  serve, 
Though  that  I  never  hir  grace  may  de- 
serve, 
Wolde  han  suffised  right  y-nough  for  me. 
()  dere  cosin  Palamun,'  quod  he,        1234 
'Thyn  is  the  victorie  of  this  aventure, 
Ful  blisfully  in  prison  maistow  dure; 
Li  prison?  certes  nay,  but  in  paradys ! 
Wei  hath  fortune  y-turned  thee  the  dys. 
That  hast  the  sighte  of  hir,  and  I  thab- 

sence. 
For   possible   is,  sin   thou  hast  hir  pres- 
ence, 1 240 
And  art  a  knight,  a  worthy  and  an  able. 
That  by  sora  cas,  sin  fortune  is  chaunge- 

able, 
Thou  mayst  to  thy  desyr  som-tyme  atteyne. 
But  L  tha-f  am  exyled,  and  bareyne 
Of  alle  grace,  and  in  so  greet  despeir,  1 245 
That  ther  nis  erthe,  water,  fyr,  ne  eir, 
Ne  creature,  that  of  hem  maked  is. 
That  may  me  helpe  or  doon  confort  in 

this. 
Wei    oughte    I   sterve   in  wanhope    and 

distresse; 
Farwel    my  lyf,  my   lust,  and    my    glad- 
nesse !  1250 

Alias,  why  pleynen    folk    so    in    com- 
mune 
Of  purveyaunce  of  God,  or  of  fortune. 
That  yeveth  hem  ful  ofte  in  many  a  gyse 
Wei  bettre  than  they  can   hem-self  de- 

vyse? 
Som  man  desyreth  for  to  han  richesse, 
21 


That  cause  is  of  his  mordre  or  greet  sik- 

nesse.  1256 

And  som   man  wolde  out  of  his  prison 

fayn, 
That  in  his  hous  is  of  his  meynee  slayn. 
Infmite  harmes  been  in  this  matere; 
We    witen    nat    what    thing    we    preyen 

here.  1260 

We  faren  as  he  that  dronke  is  as  a  mous; 
A  dronke  man  wot  vvel  he  hath  an  hous, 
But    he    noot    which    the    righte   wey   is 

thider; 
And  to  a  dronke  man  the  wey  is  slider. 
And  certes,  in  this  world  so  farcn  we; 
We  seken  faste  after  felicitee,  1266 

But  we  goon  wrong  ful  often,  trewely. 
Thus  may  we  seyen  alle,  and  namely  1, 
That  wende  and  hadde  a  greet  opinioun, 
That,  if  I  mighte  escapen  from  prisoun, 
Than   hadde   1   been  in  loye  and  pertlt 

hele,  1271 

Ther  now  I  am  exyled  fro  my  wele. 
Sin  that  I  may  nat  seen  yow,  Emelye, 
I  nam  but  deed ;    ther  nis  no  remedye.' 

Up-on  that  other  syde  Palamon,     1275 
Whan  that  he  wiste  Arcite  \\  as  agon, 
Swich  sorwe  he  maketh,  that  the  grete 

tour 
Resouncth  of  his  youling  and  clamour. 
The  pure  fettres  on  his  shines  grete 
Weren  of  his  bittre  salte  teres  wete.  1280 
'Alias!  '  quod  he,  'Arcita,  cosin  myn, 
Of   al  our    stryf,  God  woot,  the  fruyt  is 

thyn. 
Thow    walkest    now    in    Thebes    at    thy 

large. 
And  of  my  wo  thou  yevest  litel  charge. 
Thou  mayst,   sin  thou  hast  wisdom  and 

manhede,  1285 

Assemblen  alle  the  folk  of  our  kinrede, 
And    make    a    werre   so    sharp    on   this 

citee. 
That  by  som  aventure,  or  som  tretee, 
Thou  mayst  have  hir  to  lady  and  to  wyf, 
For  whom  that  I  mot  nedes  lese  my  lyf. 
For,  as  by  wey  of  possibilitee,  129 1 

Sith  thou  art  at  thy  large,  of  prison  free, 
And  art  a  lord,  greet  is  thyn  avauntage. 
More  than  is  myn,  that  sterve  here  in  a 

cage.  1 294 

For  I  mot  wepe  and  wayle,  why]  I  live, 
With    al    the    wo    that    prison    may   me 

yive, 


482 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1297-1372. 


And  eek  with  peyne  that  love  me  yiveth 

also, 
That  doubleth   al   my  torment   and   my 

wo.' 
Ther-with  the  fyr  of  lelousye  up-sterte 
With-inne  his  brest,  and  hente  him  by 

the  herte  1300 

So  woodly,  that  he  lyk  was  to  biholde 
The  box-tree,  or   the    asshen   dede  and 

colde. 
Tho   seyde   he;    'O   cruel   goddes,  that 

governe 
This  world  with   binding  of  your  word 

eterne,  1304 

And  wryten  in  the  table  of  athamaunt 
Your  parlement,  and  your  eterne  graunt. 
What  is  mankinde  more  un-to  yow  holde 
Than  is  the  sheep,  that  rouketh  in  the 

folde? 
For  slayn  is  man  right  as  another  beste, 
And  dwelleth  eek  in  prison  and  areste, 
And  hath  siknesse,  and  greet  adversitee, 
And  ofte  tymes  giltelees,  pardee  !       1312 
What  governaunce  is  in  this  prescience, 
That  giltelees  tormenteth  innocence? 
And  yet  encreseth  this  al  my  penaunce, 
That  man  is  bounden  to  his  observaunce. 
For  Goddes  sake,  to  letten  of  his  wille, 
Ther  as  a  beest  may  al  his  lust  fultille. 
And  whan  a  beest  is  deed,  he  hath  no 

peyne; 
But  man  after  his  deeth  moot  wepe  and 

pleyne,  1320 

Though  in  this  world  he  have  care  and 

wo : 
With-outen  doute  it  may  stonden  so. 
The  answere  of  this  I  lete  to  divynis, 
But  wel  I  woot,  that  in  this  world  gret 

pyne  is. 
Alias!     I  see  a  serpent  or  a  theef,    1325 
That  many  a  trewe  man  hath  doon  mes- 

cheef, 
Goon  at  his  large,  and  wher  him  list  may 

turne. 
But  I  mot  been  in  prison  thurgh  Saturne, 
And   eek   thurgh   luno,  lalous   and   eek 

wood,  1329 

That  hath  destroyed  wel  ny  al  the  blood 
Of  Thebes,  with  his  waste  walles  wyde. 
And  Venus  sleeth  me  on  that  other  syde 
For  lelousye,  and  fere  of  him  Arcite.' 
Now  wol  I  stinte  of  Pabmon  a  lyte, 
And  lete  him  in  his  ]iris<jn  stille  (1\m]1l-, 


And  of  Arcita  forth  I  wol  yow  telle.  1336 
The  somer   passeth,  and   the   nightes 
longe 
Encresen  double  wyse  the  peynes  stronge 
Bothe  of  the  lovere  and  the  prisoner. 
I  noot  which  hath  the  wofullere  mester. 
For  shortly  for  to  seyn,  this  Palamoun  1341 
Perpetuelly  is  dampned  to  prisoun. 
In  cheynes  and  in  fettres  to  ben  deed; 
And  Arcite  is  exyled  upon  his  heed 
For  ever-mo  as  out  of  that  contree,  1345 
Ne  never-mo  he  shal  his  lady  see. 

Yow  loveres  axe  I  now  this  questioun, 
Who  hath  the  worse,  Arcite  or  Palamoun  ? 
That  oon  may  seen  his  lady  day  by  day. 
But  in  prison  he  moot  dwelle  alway.  1350 
That  other  wher  him  list  may  ryde  or  go, 
But  seen  his  lady  shal  he  never-mo. 
Now  demeth  as  yow  liste,  ye  that  can, 
For  I  wol  telle  forth  as  I  bigan. 

Explicit  prima    Pars.       Sequitur  pars 
secunda. 

Whan  that  Arcite  to   Thebes  comen 

was,  1355 

Ful    ofte    a    day   he    swelte    and    seyde 

'  alias,' 
For  seen  his  lady  shal  he  never-mo. 
And  shortly  to  concluden  al  his  wo. 
So  muche  sorwe  had  never  creature 
That  is,  or  shal,  whyl  that  the  world  may 

dure.  1360 

His   sleep,  his   mete,  his   drink    is   him 

biraft. 
That  lene  he  wex,  and  drye  as  is  a  shaft. 
His  eyen  holwe,  and  grisly  to  biholde; 
His   hewe    falwe,   and    pale    as    asshen 

colde, 
And  solitarie  he  was,  and  ever  allone. 
And  wailling   al   the    night,  making  his 

mone.  1366 

And  if  he  herde  song  or  instrument, 
Then  wolde  he  wepe,  he  mighte  nat  be 

stent; 
So    feble    eek    were    his    spirits,  and    so 

lowe, 
And    chaunged   so,  that   no   man   coude 

knowe  1370 

His  speche  nor  his  vols,  though  men  it 

herde. 
And    in    his    gere,  for    al    the  world    he 

ferde 


I373-I4S2.] 


A.     THE   KNIGTITES   TALE. 


^485 


Nat  oonly  lyk  the  lo%'eres  maladye 
Of  licreos,  but  rather  lyk  manye 
En<;eiulre(l  of  humour  malencolyk,    1375 
Biforen,  in  his  celle  fantastyk. 
And  shortly,  turned  was  al  up-so-doun 
Bothe  habit  and  eek  disposicioun 
(Jf  him,  this  woful  lovere  daun  Arcite. 
What  sholde   I    al-day  of  his  wo  en- 
dyte?  1380 

Whan  he  endured  hadde  a  yeer  or  two 
This  cruel  torment,  and  this  peyne  and 

wo, 
At  Thebes,  in  his  contree,  as  I  seyde, 
Up-on  a  night,  in  sleep  as  he  him  leyde, 
Him  thoughte  how  that  the  winged  god 
Mcrcurie  1385 

Biforn  him  stood,  and   bad   him   to   be 

murye. 
1 1  is  slepy  yerde  in  bond  he  bar  uprighte; 
An  hat  he  werede  up-on  his  heres  brighte. 
Arrayed  was  this  god  (as  he  took  keep) 
As  he  was  whan   that   Argus   took    his 
sleep;  1390 

And  seyde  him  thus :  '  To  Athenes  shaltou 

wende; 
Ther  is  thee  shapen  of  thy  wo  an  ende.' 
And   with    that  word  Arcite  wook   and 

sterte. 
'Now  trewely, how  sore  that  me  smerte,' 
Quod  he,  'to  Athenes  right  now  wol    I 
fare;  1395 

Ne  for  the  drede  of  deeth  shal  I  nat  spare 
To  see  my  lady,  that  I  love  and  serve; 
In  hir  presence  I  recche  nat  to  sterve.' 
And  with  that  word  he  caughte  a  greet 
niirour, 
And   saugh   that   chaunged   was   al    his 
colour,  1400 

And  saugh  his  visage  al  in  another  kinde. 
And  right  anoon  it  ran  him  in  his  minde, 
That,  sith  his  face  was  so  disfigured 
Of  maladye,  the  which  he  hadde  endured, 
lie  mighte  wel,  if  that  he  bar  him 
lowe,  1405 

Live  in  Athenes  ever-more  unknowe, 
And  seen  his  lady  wel  ny  day  by  day. 
And  right  anon  he  chaunged  his  array. 
And  cladde  him  as  a  povre  laborer. 
And  al  allone,  save  oonly  a  squyer,    1410 
That  knew  his  privetee  and  al  his  cas, 
Which  was  disgysed  povrely,  as  he  was. 
To  .Vthenes  is  he  goon  the  nexte  way. 
And  to  the  court  he  wente  up-on  a  day, 


And   at   the   gate   he   profreth    his 

vyse,  I  ^ 

To  drugge  and  drawe,  what  so  men  w 

devyse. 
And  shortly  of  this  matere  for  to  seyn, 
He  fil  in  office  with  a  chamberleyn, 
The  which  that  dwelling  was  with  Emelye. 
For  he  was  wys,  and  coude  soon  aspye 
Of  every    servaunt,   which    that   scrveth 
here.  1421 

Wel   coude  he  hewen  wode,  and  water 

here. 
For  he  was   yong   and    mighty   for   the 

nones. 
And  ther-to  he  was  strong  and  big  of 
bones  1424 

To  doon  that  any  wight  can  him  devyse. 
A  yeer  or  two  he  was  in  this  servyse, 
Page    of  the   chambre    of    Emelye   the 

brighte; 
And  '  Philostrate '  he  seide  that  he  highte. 
But  half  so  wel  biloved  a  man  as  he 
Ne  was  ther  never  in  court,  of  his  de- 
gree; 1430 
He  was  so  gentil  of  condicioun. 
That  thurghout  al  the  court  was  his  renoun. 
They  seyden,  that  it  were  a  charitee 
That  Theseus  wolde  enhauncen  his  de- 
gree, 1434 
And  putten  him  in  worshipful  servyse, 
Ther  as  he  mighte  his  vertu  excercyse. 
And  thus,  with-inne  a  whyle,  his  name  is 

spronge 
Bothe  of  his  dedes,  and  his  goode  tonge. 
That  Theseus  hath  taken  him  so  neer 
That  of  his   chambre   he   made   him   a 
squyer,  1440 

And  yaf  him  gold  to  mayntene  his  degree ; 
And    eek    men    broghte    him  out  of  his 

contree 
From  yeer  to  yeer,  ful  prively,  his  rente; 
But  honestly  and  slyly  he  it  spente, 
That  no  man  wondred    how   that   he    it 
hadde.  1445 

And  three  yeer  in  this  wyse  his  lyf  he 

ladde. 
And  bar  him  so  in  pees  and  eek  in  werre, 
Ther  nas  no  man  that  Theseus  hath  derre. 
And  in  this  blisse  lete  I  now  Arcite, 
And  speke  I  wol  of  I'alamon  a  lyte.    1450 
In  derknesse  and  horrible  and  strong 
prisoun 
This  seven  yeer  hath  seten  Palamoun, 


■HE  CA3iTEREOlY  TAI_ES. 


ii;;-i;:;i. 


0lM 


Sac^'z    I    A: 


Wii 


TfeT=r5r-r^ 


M75 


F:r 


Til 


Ac 


'.£;«&■    IB    tie        I'z 
«495       I* 


i539-i6ii0 


A.    THE   KNUiHTES  TALE. 


4«5 


Seide  is  the  Friday  al  tke  wyke  j-hkc 
Whan  that  Arote  had  saage,  ic  gaa 

TO  syke,  1540 

And    sene    him    doaa    wttb-o^ttea  aay 

more: 
'  Alas  ! '  qvod  be,  '  that  day  that  I  «» 

bore: 
How  lo^e,  IsBO,  dtai;^  thy  cnKkee, 
Wokow  wimtytja  Thebes  the  dice  ? 
AUas !  y-faro^t  is  to  ooolaskMB        1543 
The  fakod  royal  of  Cadme  aad    Am- 

friuoon; 
Of  Cadmas,  whidi  dtat  vas  the  firste 


That    Thdxs  bdte,  or  fist   the    tovn 

And  of  the  dteefest  was  croaied  kiag; 
Of  hishiiage  aml,aiid  hisof^s|Hii^i550 
By  Tcnay  l^ne,  as  of  the  Stok  royal: 
And  noT  I  am  so  caitif  and  so  thial. 
That  be,  that  is  my  mortal  eoemy, 
I  serve  him  is  his  sqwFcr  powely. 
And  yet  doth  luao  me  vd  moie  shame. 
For  i   dar  aoght  iMknove  mym    ovae 

Dame;  '55^ 

Btit  ther-as  I  was  wont  to  h^hte  Aicite, 
Now  higgle  I  Philosbate,  nog^  vorth  m 

mvte.     j^^^ 
AIlas!'thovM^Mais,anas:  Ino, 
Tbos    hath    yoar    ire   oar    kinrede    at 

fordo,  1560 

Save  onhr  me,  and  wrecched  ftilamnwB, 
That  Theseis  martyieth  m  |Mtsiw. 
And  OTer  al  this,  to  sleoi  me  vitteify. 
Love  bath  his  hry  dait  so  bromii^f 
Y-stiked     thai«^     my     treve     cai^id 

herte,  '  1565 

That  shapoi  wasm^deeth  ast  than  my 

sherte. 
Ye  sle<en  me  widi  yoor  cyot,  Emdye; 
Ye  been  the  cause  whedor  that  I  dye. 
Of  al  the  remenant  of  myn  other  care 
Ne    sette   I  nat  the  moontamce  of  a 

tare,  1550 

So  that  I  conde  don  ai^ght  to  pcwr  piis- 

aance!' 
And  with   that  word  he  fil  do«B  in  a 

traunce 
A  lon^  tyme;  and  after  he  op-stexte. 
Thi^   Palamonn,    that    dtoaghte    diat 

thoTsb  his  berte 
He     fdte    a    cold    swerd     sodeynliche 

g'yde,  1575 


Far  ire  he  ^■ook,  no  k^ger  voUe  he 

byde. 
And  whan  that  he  had  hod  Ardles  tale. 
As  he  were  wood,  «i&  fiaoe  deed  amd 

pole. 
He   sttxte  ^m  ^  o^  of  the 

thikke, 
Asd    seyde:      'Arcafee,    false 

wfijie,  15S0 

Xow  artow  hcM.  tkit  kN>est  my  bdy  so. 
Far  wham  that  I  have  al  this  peyae  a»d 

And  art  m^  blood,  and  to  my  oniu  1 

swam. 
As  I  fd  ofte  have  told  thee  heer-faifom, 
Aad  hst  bf^med  here  dik  Thsee.     tv' 
And   faMycSam^ed  hast    thy  name 

diss;  15S6 

I  wolbe  deed,  or  cBes  thon  ^akdye. 
Tlxm  shak  nnt  love  my  lady  fimelyc. 
Baft  I  wol  hyvc  hir  only,  and  ■nmo; 
For  I  am  ftihmw,  dry  mortal  fo.  1590 
And  thd^^  that  1  no  wcpne  hai«  in 

this  place. 

Bit  o^  ofprBon  am  astert  fay  S'*'^ 
I  drede  nog^  thet  oatherl&on  shak  dje. 
Orlhon  ne  shak  nat  lo«<en  Emeiye. 
Chees  whk^  thon  wih,  ibr  thon  shak 

nat  aaerte."     --;>i-s.-fc  (^q^ 

Aicite,  with  fal  des^loas  heite 
tHian  he  him  knew,  and  faadde  hs  tak 

herd. 
As  fieis  as  konn,  pnSed  oat  a  ^rerd, 
AndseydeAns:  *  by  God  that  sit  above, 
Nere  it  that  thon  ait  3k,  and  wood  fee 

krF&  1600 

And  eek  that  dbon  no  wepae  hist  in  this 

place 
Tbon  ^loldest  nev«r  oat  of  tibis  grove 

pace;. 
Tint  thon  ne  sholdest  dyen  of  myn  iKHhL 
For  I  defye  dkc  seaatee  and  the  iiond 
Wbicb  tlttt  thon  snst  Aat  I  have  aBiad 

to  thee.  1605 

\nsat,  Tenay  fool,  think  w«l  €tsat  love  is 

free^ 
And  I  w^  ki)««  hit,  aaaigre  al  thy  m^ght ! 
Bat,  fisr  as  mnche  dMm  «t  a'  arocAy 

kni^t 
And  wilnest  to  dairmie  hir  by  batayle. 
Have  heer  my  tionihe,  to-aaccwe  I  wgiI 

nat  faiyle,  1610 

With-oaten  witing  of  any  other  wig^ 


ffhB 


486 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1612-1688. 


That  here  I  wol  be  founden  as  a  knight, 
And  bringen  barneys  right  y-nough  fur 

tlice; 
And  chccs  the  beste,  and  leve  the  worste 

for  me. 
And  mete  and  drinke   this  night  wol  I 

bringe  1615 

V-nough    for  thee,  and  clothes  for   thy 

bcddinge. 
And,  if  so  be  that  thou  my  lady  winne. 
And   slee    me   in  this    wode  ther   I  am 

inne. 
Thou  niayst  wel  have  thy  lady,  as  for  me.' 
Tiiis    ralamon  answerde :  '  I  graunte  it 

thee.'  1620 

And   thus    they    been    departed    til    a- 

niorvve, 
^Vhen  ech  of  hem  had  leyd  his  feith  to 

borwe. 
O  cupitle,  out  of  alle  charitee  ! 
O  regne,  that  wolt  no  felawe  have  with 

thee ! 
Ful    sooth   is   seyd,   that    love    ne    lord- 

shipe  1625 

Wol  noght,  his  thankes,  have  no  felawe- 

shipe; 
Wel  linden  that  Arcite  and  Talamoun. 
Arcite  is  riden  anon  un-to  the  toun, 
And   on  the    morwe,  er    it   were   dayes 

light, 
Ful      prively     two     barneys     hath     he 

dight,  1630 

Bothe  sutlisaunt  and  mete  to  darreyne 
The    bataille   in   the    feeld    betwix  hem 

tweyne. 
And  on  his  hors,  allone  as  he  was  born, 
He  carieth  al  this  barneys  him  biforn; 
And  in  the  grove,  at  tyme  and  place  y- 

set,  1635 

This  Arcite  and  this  Palamon  ben  met. 
Tho  chaungen  gan  the  colour  in  hir  face ; 
Right   as   the   hunter   in    the    regne    of 

Trace, 
That  stondeth  at  the  gappe  with  a  spere, 
Whan  hunted  is  the  leoun  or  the  bere. 
And    hereth  him  come  russhing  in    the 

greves,  1641 

And  breketh  bothe  bowes  and  the  leves. 
And  thinketh,  '  beer  cometh  my  mortel 

enemy, 
With-oute  faile,  he  moot  be  deed,  or  I  ; 
For    outher    I    mot    sleen    him    at    the 

gappe,  1645 


Or  he    mot  sleen  me,  if  that  me   mis- 

happe  : ' 
So  ferden  they,  in  chaunging  of  hir  hewe, 
As  fcr  as  everich  of  hem  other  knewe, 
Ther  nas  no  good  day,  ne  no  saluing; 
But  streight,  with-outen  word  or  rehers- 

ing,  1650 

Everich  of  hem  halp  for  to  armen  other. 
As  freendly  as  he  were  his  owne  brother; 
And     after    that,     with    sharpe     speres 

stronge 
They  foynen  ech  at  other  wonder  longc. 
Thou  mightest  wene  that  this  Palamoun 
In  his  fighting  were  a  wood  leoun,     1656 
And  as  a  cruel  tygre  was  Arcite : 
As  wilde  bores  gonne  they  to  smyte. 
That    frothen    whyte    as    foom    for   ire 

wood. 
Up  to  the  ancle  foghte  they  in  hir  blood. 
And  in  this   wyse    I    lete   hem   lighting 

dwelle;  1661 

And  forth  I  wol  of  Theseus  yow  telle. 

The  destinee,  ministre  general, 
That  executeth  in  the  world  over-al 
The  purveyaunce,   that  God   hath   seyn 

biforn,  1665 

So  strong  it  is,  that,  though  the  world 

had  sworn 
The  contrarie  of  a  thing,  by  ye  or  nay. 
Yet  somtyme  it  shal  fallen  on  a  day 
That  falleth  nat  eft  with-inne  a  thousand 

yere. 
For  certeinly,  our  appetytes  here,       1670 
Be  it  of  werre,  or  pees,  or  hate,  or  love, 
Al  is  this  reuled  by  the  sighte  above. 
This  mene  I  now  by  mighty  Theseus, 
That  for  to  honten  is  so  desirous. 
And  namely  at  the  grete  hert  in  May,  1675 
That  in  his  bed  ther  daweth  him  no  day. 
That  he  nis  clad,  and  redy  for  to  ryde 
With  hunte  and  horn,  and  houndes  him 

bisyde. 
For  in  his  hunting  hath  he  swich  delyt. 
That  it  is  al  his  loye  and  appetyt       1680 
To  been  him-self  the  grete  hertes  bane; 
For  after  Mars  he  serveth  now  Diane. 
Cleer  was  the  day,  as  I  have   told  er 

this, 
And  Theseus,  with  alle  love  and  blis. 
With  his  Ipolita.  the  fayre  quene,       1685 
And  Emelye,  clothed  al  in  grene. 
On  hunting  be  they  riden  royally. 
And  to  the  grove,  that  stood  ful  faste  by, 


I689-I766.] 


A.     THE   KNIGHTES  TALE. 


487 


In  which  ther  was  an  hert,  as  men  him 

tolde, 
Duk   Theseus    the    streighte   wey    hath 

holde.  1690 

And  to  the  launde  he  rydeth  him  ful  right, 
For    thider  was  the  hert  wont  have  his 

flight, 
And  over  a  brook,  and  so  forth  on  his 

weye. 
This  duk  wol  han   a   cours   at   him,  or 

t\veye. 
With  houndes,  swiche  as  that   him    list 

comaunde.  1695 

And  whan  this  duk  was  come  un-to  the 

launde, 
Under  the  sonne  he  loketh,  and  anon 
He  was  war  of  Arcite  and  Palamon, 
That  foughten  breme,  as   it  were   bores 

two; 
The    brighte    swerdes    wenten    to    and 

fro  1 700 

So  hidously,  that  with  the  leeste  strook 
It  seemed  as  it  wolde  felle  an  ook; 
But  what  they  were,  no-thing  he  ne  woot. 
This   duk    his   courser   with    his    spores 

smoot. 
And  at  a  stert  he  wasbitwix  hem  two,  1 705 
And  pulled  out  a  swerd  and  cryed, '  ho  I 
Namore,  up  peyne  of  lesing  of  your  heed. 
By  mighty  >iars,  he  shal  anon  be  deed, 
That   smyteth   any   strook,   that    I    may 

seen ! 
But    telleth    me    what    mister    men    ye 

been,  1710 

That  been  so  hardy  for  to  fighten  here 
With-outen  luge  or  other  otficere, 
As  it  were  in  listes  royally?' 

This  Palamon  answerde  hastily. 
And   seyde :    '  sire,  what  nedeth  wordes 

mo?  1715 

We  have  the  deeth  deserved  bothe  two. 
Two  woful  wreccbes  been  we,  two  cay- 

tyves, 
That  been  encombred  of  our  owne  lyves; 
And  as  thou  art  a  rightful  lord  and  luge, 
Ne  yeve  us  neither  mercy  ne  refuge,    1720 
But  slee  me  first,  for  seynte  charitee; 
But  slee  my  felawe  eek  as  wel  as  me. 
Or  slee  him  first;    for,  though  thou  knowe 

it  lyte, 
This  is  thy  mortal  fo,  this  is  Arcite, 
That    fro   thy   lond    is   banished   on  his 

heed,  1725 


For  which  he  hath  deserved  to  be  deed. 
For  this  is  he  that  cam  un-to  thy  gate, 
And  seyde,  that  he  highte  Philostrate. 
Thus  hath  he  laped  thee  ful  many  a  yeer. 
And  thou   has    maked    him    thy    chief 

squyer;  1730 

And  this  is  he  that  loveth  Emelye. 
For  sith  the  day  is  come  that  I  shal  dye, 
I  make  pleynly  my  confessioun. 
That  I  am  thilke  woful  Palamoun, 
That     hath     thy    prison     broken     wik- 

kedly.  1735 

I  am  thy  mortal  fo,  and  it  am  I 
That  loveth  so  bote  Emelye  the  brighte. 
That  I  wol  dye  present  in  hir  sighte. 
Therfore  I  axe  deeth  and  my  luwyse; 
But  slee  my  felawe  in  the  same  wyse,  1 740 
For  bothe  han  we  deserved  to  be  slayn.' 

This  worthy  duk  answerde  anon  agayn, 
And  seyde,  '  This  is  a  short  conclusioun : 
Youre  owne  mouth,  by  your  confessioun, 
Hath    dampned   you,  and   I   wol   it   re- 

corde,  1745 

It   nedeth   noght  to  pyne  yow  with  the 

corde. 
Ye  shul  be  deed,  by  mighty  Mars  the 

rede  I ' 
The  quene  anon,  for  verray  womman- 

hede 
Gan  for  to  wepe,  and  so  dide  Emelye, 
And  alle  the  ladies  in  the  companye.  1750 
Gret  pitee  was  it,  as  it  thoughte  hem  alle. 
That  ever  swich  a  chaunce  sholde  falle; 
For  gentil  men  they  were,  of  greet  estat. 
And  no-thing  but  for  love  was  this  debat; 
And  sawe  hir  blody  woundes  wyde  and 

sore  1755 

And  alle  cryden,  bothe  lasse  and  more, 
'  Have    mercy,  lord,  up-on  us   wommen 

alle ! ' 
And  on  hir  bare  knees  adoun  they  falle. 
And  wolde  have  kist  his  feet  ther-as  he 

stood,  1759 

Til  at  the  laste  aslaked  was  his  mood;    -' ' 
For  pitee  rcnneth  sone  in  gentil  herte. 
And  though  he  first  for  ire  quook   and 

sterte. 
He  hath  considered  shortly,  in  a  clause, 
The  trespas  of  hem  bothe,  and  eek  the 

cause : 
And  al-thougk  that  his  ire  hir  gilt  ac- 
cused, 1 765 
Yet  in  his  reson  be  hem  bothe  excused; 


488 


THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 


[1 767-1849. 


As  thus :  he  thoghte  wel,  that  every  man 
Wol  helpe  him-self  in  love,  if  that  he  can, 
And  eek  deUvere  him-self  out  of  prisoun; 
And  eek  his  herte  had  compassioun  1770 
Of  vvommen,  for  they  wepen  ever  in  oon; 
And  in  his  gentil  herte  he  thoghte  anoon, 
And  softe  un-to  himself  he  seyde  :  '  fy 
Up-on  a  lord  that  wol  have  no  mercy, 
But  been   a   leoun,  bothe   in  word   and 

dede,  1775 

To  hem  that  been  in   repentaunce  and 

drede 
As  wel  as  to  a  proud  despitous  man 
That  wol  maynteyne  that  he  first  bigan ! 
That  lord  hath  litel  of  discrecioun, 
That  in  svvich  cas  can  no  divisioun,    1 780 
But  weyeth  pryde   and   humblesse  after 

oon.' 
And  shortly,  whan  his  ire  is  thus  agoon. 
He  gan  to  loken  up  with  eyen  lighte. 
And    spak    thise    same    wordes    al    on 

highte :  — - 
'The  god  of  love,  a!  henedicite,  1785 

How  mighty  and  how  greet  a  lord  is  he ! 
Ayeins   his    might    ther    gayneth    none 

obstacles. 
He  may  be  cleped  a  god  for  his  miracles; 
For  he  can  maken  at  his  owne  gyse 
Of  everich    herte,  as   that    him   list   de- 

vyse.  1 790 

Lo  heer,  this  Arcite  and  this  Palamoun, 
That  quitly  vveren  out  of  my  prisoun. 
And  mighte  han  lived  in  Thebes  royally, 
And  vviten  I  am  hir  mortal  enemy. 
And  that   hir   deeth   lyth    in    my  might 

also,  1795 

And  yet  hath  love,  maugree  hir  eyen  two, 
Y-broght  hem  hider  bothe  for  to  dye ! 
Now  luketh,  is  nat  that  an  heigh  folye? 
Who  may  been  a  fool,  but-if  he  love? 
Bihold,  for  Goddes  sake  that  sit  above, 
Se  how  they  blede !   be  they  noght  wel 

arrayed?  1 801 

Thus  hath  hir  lord,  the  god  of  love,  y- 

payed 
Hir  wages  and  hir  fees  for  hir  servyse ! 
And  yet  they  weneji  for  to  been  ful  wyse 
That    serven    love,    for    aught    that    may 

bifalle!  1805 

But  this  is  yet  the  beste  game  of  alle, 
That  she,  for  whom  they  lAn  this  lolitee. 
Can  hem  ther-for  as  muche  thank  as  me; 
She  woot  namore  of  al  this  hote  fare, 


By   God,    than   woot    a    cokkow  or   an 

hare!  1810 

But  al  mot  been  assayed,  hoot  and  cold; 
A  man  mot  been  a  fool,  or  yong  or  old; 
I  woot  it  by  my-self  ful  yore  agoon : 
For  in  my  tyme  a  servant  was  I  oon. 
And    therfore,  sin    I    knowe    of    loves 

peyne,  1815 

And  woot  how  sore  it  can   a   man  dis- 

treyne. 
As  he  that  hath  ben  caught  ofte  in  his 

las, 
I  yow  foryeve  al  hooUy  this  trespas. 
At  requeste    of   the    quene  that  kneleth 

here. 
And  eek  of  Emelye,  my  suster  dere.  1 820 
And  ye  shul  bothe  anon  un-to  me  swere, 
That  never-mo  ye  shul  my  contree  dere, 
Ne  make  werre  up-on  me  night  ne  day. 
But  been  my  freendes  in  al  that  ye  may; 
I  yow  foryeve  this  trespas  every  del.'  1825 
And  they  him  swore  his  axing  fayre  and 

wel. 
And    him   of   lordshipe   and    of    mercy 

preyde, 
And  he  hem  graunteth  grace,  and  thus 

he  seyde: 
'  To  speke  of  royal  linage  and  richesse, 
Though  that  she  were  a  quene  or  a  prin- 

cesse,  1830 

Ech  of  yow  bothe  is  worthy,  doutelees, 
To  wedden  whan  tyme  is,  but  nathelees 
I  speke  as  for  my  suster  Emelye, 
For  whom  ye  have  this  stryf  and  lelousye; 
Ye  woot  your-self,  she  may  not  wedden 

two  1835 

At  ones,  though  ye  fighten  ever-mo : 
That  oon  of  yow,  al  be  him  looth  or  leef, 
He  moot  go  pypen  in  an  ivy-leef; 
This  is  to  seyn,  she  may  nat  now  han 

bothe,  1839 

Al  be  ye  never  so  lelous,  ne  so  wrothe. 
And  for-thy  I  yow  putte  in  this  degree, 
That  ech  of  yow  shal  have  his  destinee 
As  him  is  shape;    and  herkneth  in  what 

wyse; 
Lo,  heer  your  ende  of  that  I  shal  devyse. 

My  wil  is  this,  for  plat  conclusioun, 
With-outen  any  replicacioun,  1846 

If  that  yow  lyketh,  tak  it  for  the  beste. 
That  everich  of  yow  shal  gon  wher  him 

leste 
Frely,  with-outen  raunson  or  daunger; 


1850-1931.] 


A.    THE   KNIGHTES  TALE. 


489 


And  this  day  fifty  wykes,  fer  ne  ner,  1850 
Everich  of  yow  shal  hringe  an  hundred 

knightes, 
Armed  for  Hstes  up  at  alle  rightes, 
Al  redy  to  darreyne  hir  by  bataille. 
And  this  bihote  I  yow,  with-outen  faille, 
Up-on  my  trouthe,  and  as  I  am  a  knight. 
That  whether    of  yow  bothe    that    hath 

might,  1856 

This  is  to  seyn,  that  whether  he  or  thou 
May  with  his  hundred,  as  I  spak  of  now, 
Sleen  his  contrarie,  or  out  of  listes  dryve, 
Him  shal  I  yeve  Emelya  to  wyve,      1S60 
To  whom  that  fortune  yeveth  so  fair  a 

grace. 
The  listes  shal  I  maken  in  this  place, 
And  God  so  wisly  on  my  soule  rewe, 
As  I  shal  even  luge  been  and  trewe. 
Ye  shul  non  other  ende  with  me  maken, 
That  oon  of  yow  ne  shal   be   deed   or 

taken.  1866 

And  if  yow  thinketh  this  is  wel  y-sayd, 

Seyeth  your  avys,  and  holdeth  yow  apayd. 

This  is  your  ende  and  your  conclusioun.' 

Who    loketh    lightly    now   but    Pala- 

moun?  1870 

Who  springeth  up  for  loye  but  Arcite? 
Who  couthe  telle,  or  who  couthe  it  en- 

dyte, 
The  loye  that  is  maked  in  the  place 
Whan  Theseus  hath  doon  so  fair  a  grace? 
But  doun  on  knees  wente  every  maner 

wight,  1875 

And  thanked  him  with  al  her  herte  and 

might. 
And  namely  the  Thebans  ofte  sythe. 
And  thus  with  good  hope  and  with  herte 

blythe 
They  take  hir  leva,  and  hom-ward  gonne 

they  ryde  1879 

To  Thebes,  with  his  olde  walles  wyde. 

Explicit  secunda  pars.     Sequitur  pars 
iercia. 


I  trowe  men  wolde  deme  it  necligence. 
If  I  foryete  to  tellen  the  dispence 
Of  Theseus,  that  goth  so  bisily 
To  maken  up  the  listes  royally; 
That  swich  a  noble  theatre  as  it  was,  1885 
I    dar  wel  seyn  that   in  this  world  ther 

nas. 
The  circuit  a  myle  was  aboute, 


Walled    of  stoon,   and    diched   al   with- 

oute.  1888 

Round  was  the  shap,  in  maner  of  ojnnpas, 
Ful  of  degrees,  the  heighte  of  sixty  pas. 
That,  whan  a  man  was  set  on  o  tlegree. 
He  letted  nat  his  felawe  for  to  see. 

Est- ward  ther  stood  a  gate  of  marbel 

whyt. 
West-ward,  right  swich  another  in    the 

opposit.  1894 

And  shortly  to  concluden,  swich  a  place 
Was  noon  in  erthe,  as  in  so  litel  space; 
For  in  the  lond  ther  nas  no  crafty  man, 
That  geometric  or  ars-metrik  can, 
Ne  purtreyour,  ne  kerver  of  images. 
That   Theseus    ne    yaf    him    mete    and 

wages  1900 

The  theatre  for  to  maken  and  devyse. 
And  for  to  doon  his  ryte  and  sacrifyse. 
He  est-ward  hath,  up-on  the  gate  above, 
In  worship  of  Venus,  goddesse  of  love, 
Don  make  an  auter  and  an  oratorie;   1905 
And    west-ward,    in    the    minde    and    in 

memorie 
Of  Mars,   he    maked   hath   right   swich 

another. 
That  coste  largely  of  gold  a  fother. 
And  north-ward,  in  a  louret  on  the  wal. 
Of  alabastre  whyt  and  reed  coral        1910 
An  oratorie  riche  for  to  see. 
In  worship  of  Dyane  of  chastitee. 
Hath  Theseus  don  wroght  in  noble  vvyse. 

But  yet  hadde  I  foryeten  to  devyse 
The  noble  kerving,  and  the  portreitures. 
The    shap,    the    countenaunce,    and    the 

figures,  191 6 

That  weren  in  thise  oratories  three. 
First  in  the  temple  of  Venus  maystow 

see 
Wroght  on  the  wal,  ful  pitous  to  biholde, 
The  broken  slepes,  and  the  sykes  colde; 
The  sacred  teres,  and  the  waymenting; 
The  fyry  strokes  of  the  desiring,         1922 
That  loves  servaunts  in  this  lyf  endureii; 
The  othes,  that  hir  covenants  assuren; 
Plesaunce    and    hope,   desyr,   fool-hardi- 

ncsse,  1925 

Beautee  and  youthe,  bauderie,  richesse, 
Charmes  and  force,  lesinges,  flaterye, 
Dispense,  bisynesse,  and  lelousye. 
That  wered  of  yelwe  goldes  a  gerland. 
And  a  cokkow  sitting  on  hir  hand;    1930 
Festes,  instruments,  caroles,  daunces, 


490 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1932-2007. 


Lust   and    array,    and    alle    the    circum- 

staunces 
Of  love,  vvhiche  that  1  rekne  and  rekne 

shal, 
By  ordre  weren  peynted  on  the  wal,  1934 
And  mo  than  I  can  make  of  mencioun. 
For  soothly,  al  the  mount  of  Citheroun, 
Ther  Venus  hath  hir  principal  dwelling, 
Was  shewed  on  the  wal  in  portreying. 
With  al  the  gardin,  and  the  lustinesse. 
Kat  was  foryeten  the  porter  Ydelnesse, 
Ne  Narcisus  the  faire  of  yore  agon,   1941 
Ne  yet  the  folye  of  king  Salamon, 
Ne  yet  the  grete  strengthe  of  Hercules  — 
Thenchauntements  of  Medea  and  Circes  — 
Ne  of  Turnus,  with  the  hardy  hers  corage, 
The  riche  Cresus,  caytif  in  servage.    1946 
Thus  may  ye  seen  that  wisdom  ne  rich- 

esse, 
Beautee  ne  sleighte,  strengthe,  ne  hardi- 

nesse, 
Ne  may  with  Venus  holde  champartye; 
For  as  hir  list  the  world  than  may  she 

gye.  1950 

Lo,  alle  thise  folk  so  caught  were  in  hir 

las, 
Til  they  for  wo  ful  ofte  seyde  '  alias ! ' 
Suffyceth  heer  ensamples  oon  or  two, 
And   though  I  coude  rekne  a  thousand 

mo. 
The  statue  of  Venus,  glorious  for  to 

see,  ^  "  1955 

Was  naked  fleting  in  the  large  see. 
And  fro  the  navele  doun  all  covered  was 
With  wawes  grene,  and  brighte  as  any 

glas. 
A  citole  in  hir  right  hand  hadde  she,  1959 
And  on  hir  heed,  ful  semely  for  to  see, 
A  rose  gerland,  fresh  and  wel  smellinge; 
Above  hir  heed  hir  dowves  flikeringe. 
Biforn  hir  stood  hir  sone  Cupido, 
Up-on  his  shuldres  winges  hadde  he  two; 
And  blind  he  was,  as  it  is  ofte  sene; 
A  bowe  he  bar  and  arwes  brighte  and 

kene.  1966 

Why  sholde  I  noght  as  wel  eek  telle 

yow  al 
The  portreiture,  that  was  up-on  the  wal 
With-inne  the  temple  of  mighty  Mars  the 

rede? 
Al  peynted  was  the  wal,  in  lengthe  and 

brede,  1970 

Lyk  to  the  estres  of  the  grisly  place, 


That  highte  the  grete  temple  of  Mars  in 

Trace, 
In  thilke  colde  frosty  regioun, 
Ther-as  Mars   hath   his   sovereyn    man- 

sioun. 
First  on  the  wal  was  peynted  a  foreste. 
In   which  ther  dwelleth  neither  man  ne 

beste,  1976 

With  knotty  knarry  bareyn  trees  olde 
Of  stubbes  sharpe  and  hidous  to  biholde; 
In  which  ther  ran  a  rumbel  and  a  swough, 
As  though  a  storm  sholde  bresten  every 

bough :  1980 

And  downward  from  an   hille,  under  a 

bente, 
Ther  stood  the  temple  of  Mars  armipo- 

'  tente, 
Wroght   al    of   burned    steel,    of  which 

thentree 
Was  long  and  streit,  and  gastly  for  to  see. 
And   ther-out   cam   a   rage   and  such  a 

vese,  1985 

That  it  made  al  the  gates  for  to  rese. 
The  northren  light  in  at  the  dores  shoon, 
For   windowe   on   the  wal  ne  was  ther 

noon, 
Thurgh  which  men  mighten  any  light  dis- 

cerne. 
The  dores  were  alle  of  adamant  eterne, 
Y-clenchedoverth wart  and  endelong  199 1 
With  iren  tough;    and,   for  to  make  it 

strong. 
Every  piler,  the  temple  to  sustene. 
Was    tonne-greet,    of    iren    bright    and 

shene. 
Ther  saugh   I  first  the  derke  imagin- 
ing 1995 
Of  felonye,  and  al  the  compassing; 
The  cruel  ire,  reed  as  any  glede; 
The  pykepurs,  and  eek  the  pale  drede; 
The  smyler  with  the  knyf  under  the  cloke; 
The   shepne    brenning    with    the    blake 

smoke;  2000 

The  treson  of  the  mordring  in  the  bedde; 
The    open    werre,    with    woundes  al  bi- 

bledde; 
Contek,  with  blody  knyf  and  sharp  man- 
ace; 
Al  ful  of  chirking  was  that  sory  place. 
The  sleere  of  him-self  yet  saugh  I  ther. 
His    herte-blood     hath    bathed    al    his 

heer;  2006 

The  nayl  y-driven  in  the  shode  a-night; 


20o8-2o86.] 


A.    THE   KNIGHTES  TALE. 


491 


The  colde  deeth,  with  mouth  gaping  up- 
right. 
Aniiddcs  of  the  temple  sat  meschaunce, 
With  discunfurt  and  sory  contenaunce. 
Vet  saugh  1  woodnesse  laughing  in  his 
rage;  201 i 

Armed  compleint,  out-hees,  and  fiers  out- 
rage. 
The  careyne  in  the  bush,  with  throte  y- 

corve  : 
A   thousand    slayn,    and   nat  of    qualm 

y-storve ; 
The    tiraunt,   with    the    prey    by    force 
y-raft;  2015 

The    toun  destroyed,  ther  was  no-thing 

laft. 
Yet  saugh  I  brent  the  shippes  hoppes- 

teres; 
The  hunte  strangled  with  the  wilde  beres  : 
The  sowe  freten  the  child  right  in  the 

cradel; 
The   cook   y-scalded,    for   al   his    longe 
ladel.  2020 

Noght  was  foryeten  by  the  infortune  of 

Marte; 
The  carter  over-riden  with  his  carte, 
Under  the  wheel  ful  lowe  he  lay  adoun. 
Ther  were  also,  of  Martes  divisioun. 
The  harbour,  and  the  bocher,  and  the 
smith  2025 

That  forgeth  sharpe  swerdes  on  his  stith. 
And  al  above,  depcynted  in  a  tour, 
Saw  I  conquest  sittinge  in  greet  honour, 
With  the  sharpe  swerde  over  his  heed 
Hanginge  by  a  sotil  twynes  threed.  2030 
Depeynted  was  the  slaughtre  of  lulius. 
Of  grete  Nero,  and  of  Antonius; 
Al  be  that  thilke  tyme  they  were  unborn, 
Yet  was  hir  deeth  depeynted  ther-biforn, 
By   manasinge    of    Mars,    right   by   fig- 
ure ;  2035 
So  was  it  shewed  in  that  portreiture 
As  is  depeynted  in  the  sterres  above, 
Who  shal  be  slayn  or  elles  deed  for  love. 
Suffyceth  oon  ensample  in  stories  olde, 
I    may    not    rekne    hem    alle,    thogh    I 
wolde.  2040 
The  statue  of  Mars  up-on  a  carte  stood, 
Armed,  and  loked  grim  as  he  were  wood; 
.Vnd  over  his  heed  ther  shynen  two  figures 
Of  sterres,  that  l)en  cleped  in  scriptures. 
That  oun  Puclla,  that  other  Rubeus.  2045 
This  god  of  armes  was  arrayed  thus :  — 


A  wolf  ther  stood  biforn  him  at  his  feet 
With  eyen  rede,  and  of  a  man  he  eet  ; 
With  sutil  peiicel  was  ilcpeynt  this  storic. 
In  redoutinge  of  Mars  and  of  his  glorie. 
Now    to    the    temple    of    Diane    the 

chaste  205 1 

As  shortly  as  I  can  I  wol  me  haste. 
To  telle  yovv  al  the  dcscripcioun. 
Depeynted  been  the  walles  u]i  and  doun 
Of  hunting  and  of  shamfast  chastitee.  2055 
Ther  saugh  I  how  woful  Calistopee, 
Whan  that  Diane  agreved  was  with  here. 
Was  turned  from  a  womman  til  a  here, 
And  after  was  she  maad  the  lode-sterre; 
Thus   was  it  peynt,   I  can  say  yow   no 

ferre ;  2060 

Ilir  sone  is  eek   a  sterre,  as  men  may 

see. 
Ther  saugh  I  Dane,  y-turned  til  a  tree, 
I  mene  nat  the  goddesse  Diane, 
But  Penneus  doughter,  which  that  highte 

Dane. 
Ther  saugh  I  Attheon  an  hert  y-maked, 
P'or  vengeaunce  that  he  saugh  Diane  al 

naked;  2066 

I  saugh  how  that  his  houndes  have  him 

caught. 
And  freten  him,  for  that  they  knewe  him 

naught. 
Yet  peynted  was  a  litel  forthcr-moor, 
How  Atthalante  hunted  the  wilile  boor, 
And  Meleagre,  and  many  another  mo, 
For  which  Diane  wroghte  him  care  and 

wo.  2072 

Ther  saugh  I  many  another  wonder  storie, 
The  whiche  me  list  nat  drawen  to  mem- 

orie. 
This     goddesse     on    an    hert     ful    hye 

sect,  2075 

With  smale  houndes  al  aboute  hir  feet; 
And    undernethe    hir    feet  she  hadde   a 

mone, 
Wexing  it  was,  and  sholde  wanie  sone. 
In  gaude  grene  hir  statue  clothed  was, 
With    bowe    in  honde,   and  arvves  in   a 

cas.  2080 

Hir  eyen  caste  she  ful  lowe  adoun, 
Ther  I'luto  hath  his  derke  regioun. 
A  womman  Iravailinge  was  hir  biforn, 
But,  for  hir  cliild  so  longe  was  unborn, 
Ful  jiitously  l.ucyna  gan  she  calle,     2085 
And  seyde,  '  help,  for  thou  mayst  best  of 

alle.' 


492 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES, 


[2087-2160. 


Wei   couthe    he    peynten    lyfly   that    it 

wroghte, 
With  many  a  florin  he  the  hewes  boghte. 
Now  been  thise  listes  maad,  and  The- 
seus, 
That  at  his  grete  cost  arrayed  thus    2090 
The  temples  and  the  theatre  every  del, 
Whan  it  was  doon,  him   lyked  wonder 

wel. 
But  stinte  I  wol  of  Theseus  a  lyte. 
And  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcite. 
The  day    approcheth    of  hir  retourn- 

inge,  2095 

That  everich  sholde  an  hundred  knightes 

bringe. 
The  bataille  to  darreyne,  as  I  yow  tolde; 
And  til  Athenes,  hir  covenant  for  to  holde, 
Hath  everich  of  hem  broght  an  hundred 

knightes 
Wel  armed  for  the  werre  at  alle  rightes. 
And  sikerly,  ther  trowed  many  a  man  2101 
That  never,  sithen  that  the  world  bigan. 
As   for   to   speke    of    knighthod   of  hir 

hond, 
As  fer  as  God  hath  maked  see  or  lond, 
Nas,    of    so    fewe,    so    noble    a    com- 

panye.  2105 

For  every  wight  that  lovede  chivalrye, 
And  wolde,  his  thankes,  han  a  passant 

name, 
Hath  preyed  that  he  mighte  ben  of  that 

game ; 
And  wel  was  him,  that  ther-to   chosen 

was. 
For    if    ther     fille    to-morwe    swich    a 

cas,  21 10 

Ye  knowen  wel,  that  every  lusty  knight. 
That   loveth    paramours,    and    hath    his 

might. 
Were  it  in  Engelond,  or  elles-where. 
They   wolde,   hir  thankes,  wilnen  to  be 

there. 
To  fighte  for  a  lady,  benedicite  !         21 15 
It  were  a  lusty  sighte  for  to  see. 

And  right  so  ferden  they  with  Palamon. 
With    him    ther   wenten  knightes    many 

00  n; 
Som  wol  ben  armed  in  an  habergeoun, 
In  a  brest-plat  and  in  a  light  gipoun; 
And   somme    woln  have  a  peyre  plates 

large;  2121 

And  somme  woln  have  a  Pruce  sheld,  or 

a  targe; 


Somme  woln  ben  armed  on  hir  legges 

weel, 
And  have  an  ax,  and  somme  a  mace  of 

steel. 
Ther    nis   no   newe   gyse,    that    it    nas 

old.  2125 

Armed  were  they,  as  I  have  you  told, 
Everich  after  his  opinioun. 

Ther  maistow  seen  coming  with  Pala- 

moun 
Ligurge  him-self,  the  grete  king  of  Trace; 
Blak  was  his  herd,  and  manly   was   his 

face.  2130 

The  cercles  of  his  eyen  in  his  heed, 
They  gloweden  bitwixe  yelow  and  reed; 
And  lyk  a  griffon  loked  he  aboute. 
With     kempe     heres     on     his     browes 

stoute; 
His  limes  grete,  his  braunes  harde  and 

stronge,  2135 

His  shuldres   brode,    his   armes   rounde 

and  longe. 
And  as  the  gyse  was  in  his  contree, 
Ful  hye  up-on  a  char  of  gold  stood  he, 
With  foure  whyte  boles  in  the  trays. 
In-stede  of  cote-armure  over  his  harnays, 
With    nayles  yelwe  and  brighte  as   any 

gold,  2 14 1 

He  hadde  a  beres  skin,  col-blak,  for-old. 
His  longe  heer  was  kembd  bihinde  his 

bak. 
As  any  ravenes  fether  it  shoon  for-blak  : 
A  wrethe    of    gold    arm-greet,   of   huge 

wighte,  2145 

Upon  his  heed,  set  ful  of  stones  brighte, 
Of  fyne  rabies  and  of  dyamaunts. 
Aboute     his    char    ther   wenten   whyte 

alaunts. 
Twenty  and  mo,  as  grete  as  any  steer, 
To  hunten  at  the  leoun  or  the  deer,  2150 
And    folwed   him,   with   mosel  faste   y- 

bounde, 
Colers  of  gold,  and  torets  fyled  rounde. 
An    hundred    lordes     hadde  he    in    his 

route 
Armed  ful  wel,  with  hertes   sterne  and 

stoute.  2154 

With  Arcita,  in  stories  as  men  fmde, 
The  grete  Emetreus,  the  king  of  Inde, 
Up-on  a  stede  bay,  trapped  in  steel, 
Covered  in  cloth  of  gold  diapred  weel 
Cam  ryding  lyk  the  god  of  armes.  Mars. 
Plis  cote-armure  was  of  cloth  of  Tars, 


2l6l-2234-] 


A.    THE   KNIGIITES  TALE. 


493 


Couched  with  perles  whyte  and  rounde 

and  grete.  21 6i 

His  sadel  was  of  brend   gold    newe   y- 

bcte; 
A  mantelet  upon  his  shuldre  hanginge 
Bret-ful  of  rubies  rede,  as  fyr  sparklinge. 
His  crispe  heer  lyk  ringes  was  y-ronne, 
And  that  was  yelow,  and  glitered  as  the 

Sonne.  2166 

His    nose    was   heigh,  his   eyen    bright 

citryn. 
His  lippes  rounde,  his  colour  was  sang- 

wyn, 
A  fewe  fraknes  in  his  face  y-spreynd, 
Betwixen    yelow    and    somdel    blak    y- 

meynd,  2170 

And  as  a  leoun  he  his  Inking  caste. 
Of  fyve  and  twenty  yeer  his  age  I  caste. 
His  herd  was  vvel  bigonne  for  to  springe; 
His  voys  was  as  a  trompe  thunderinge. 
Up-on    his    heed    he    wered    of    laurer 

grene  2175 

A  gerland  fresh  and  lusty  for  to  sene. 
Up-on  his  hand  he  bar,  for  his  deduyt. 
An  egle  tame,  as  eny  lilie  whyt. 
An  hundred  lordes  hadde  he  with  him 

there, 
Al    armed,   sauf  hir  heddes,   in    al    hir 

gere,  2180 

Ful  richely  in  alle  maner  thinges. 
For    trusteth    wel,    that     dukes,     erles, 

kinges, 
Were  gadered  in  this  noble  companye, 
For  love  and  for  encrees  of  chivalrye. 
Aboute    this    king    ther    ran    on   every 

part  2185 

Ful  many  a  tame  leoun  and  lepart. 
And   in  this  wyse  thise  lordes,  alle  and 

some, 
Ben  on  the  Sonday  to  the  citee  come 
Aboute  pryme,  and  in  the  toun  alight. 
This   Theseus,   this   duk,  this  worthy 

knight,  2190 

Whan  he  had  broght  hem  in-to  his  citee. 
And  iimed  hem,  everich  in  his  degree. 
He  festeth    hem,    and    dooth   so   greet 

labour 
To  esen  hem,  and  doon  hem  al  honour. 
That  yet    men  weneth   that    no  mannes 

wit  2195 

Of  noon  estat  ne  coude  amenden  it. 
The  minstralcye,  the  service  at  the  feste. 
The  grete  yiftes  to  the  moste  and  leste, 


The  riche  array  of  Theseus  palcys, 

Ne  who  sat  first  ne  last  up-on  the  deys, 

What  ladies  fairest  been    or  best  daun- 

singe,  2201 

Or  which  of  hem  can  dauncen  best  and 

singe, 
Ne  who  most  felingly  speketh  of  love : 
What  haukes  sitten  on  the  perche  above, 
What    houndes     liggen     on     the     floor 

adoun  :  2205 

Of  al  this  make  I  now  no  mencioun; 
But   al    theffect,    that   thinketh    me    the 

beste ; 
Now  comth  the  poynt,  and  herkneth  if 

yow  leste. 
The    .Sonday    night,    er  day   bigan  to 

springe, 
When  Palamon  the  larke  herde  singe. 
Although    it   nere    nat    day   by   houres 

two,  221 1 

Yet  song  the  larke,  and  Palamon  also. 
With    holy   herte,    and    with    an    heigh 

corage 
He  roos,  to  wenden  on  his  ])ilgrimage 
Un-to  the  blisful  Citherea  benigne,    2215 
I  mene  Venus,  honurable  and  digne. 
And  in  hir  houre  he  walketh  forth  a  pas 
Un-to  the  listes,  ther  hir  temple  was. 
And  doun  he  kneleth,  and  with  humble 

chere 
And    herte   soor,   he   seyde   as   ye   shul 

here.  2220 

'  Faireste  of  faire,  o  lady  myn,  Venus, 
Doughter  to    love    and   spouse  of  Vul- 

canus, 
Thou  glader  of  the  mount  of  Citheroun, 
For  thilke  love  thou  haddest  to  Adoun, 
Have  pitee  of  my  bittre  teres  smerte, 
And    tak    myn    humble    preyer  at  thyn 

herte.  2226 

Alias !  I  ne  have  no  langage  to  telle 
Theffectes    ne    the    torments     of    mvn 

helle; 
Myn   herte    may   myne   harmes  nat    bi- 

wreye ; 
I  am  so  confus,  that  I  can  noght  seye. 
But   mercy,    lady   bright,    that    knowest 

weel  2231 

My  thought,  and  seest  what  harmes  that 

I  feel, 
Considere  al   this,  and    rewe  up-on  my 

Sore, 
As  wisly  as  I  shal  for  evermore, 


494 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2235-2318. 


Emforth    my   might,   thy   trewe   servant 

be,  2235 

And  holden  werre  alwey  with  chastitee; 
That  make  I  myn  avow,  so  ye  me  helpe. 
I  kepe  noght  of  armes  for  to  yelpe, 
Ne  I  ne  axe  nat  to-morwe   to  have  vic- 

torie,  2239 

Ne  renoun  in  this  cas,  ne  veyne  glorie 
Of  pris  of  armes  blowen  up  and  doun, 
But  I  wolde  have  fully  possessioun 
Of  Emelye,  and  dye  in  thy  servyse; 
Find  thou  the  maner  how,  and  in  what 

wyse. 
I  recche  nat,  but  it  may  bettre  be,    2245 
To  have  victorie  of  hem,  or  they  of  me. 
So  that  I  have  my  lady  in  myne  armes. 
For  though  so  be  that  Mars  is  god  of 

armes 
Your  vertu  is  so  greet  in  hevene  above. 
That,  if  yow  list,  I   shal  wel   have  my 

love.  2250 

Thy  temple  wol  I  worshipe  evermo. 
And  on  thyn  auter,  wher  I  ryde  or  go, 
I  wol  don  sacrifice,  and  fyres  bete. 
And  if  ye  wol  nat  so,  my  lady  swete. 
Than   preye    I    thee,   to-morwe   with    a 

spare  2255 

That  Arcita  me  thurgh  the  herte  here. 
Thanne  rekke  I  noght,  whan  1  have  lost 

my  lyf, 
Though  that  Arcita  winne  hir  to  his  wyf. 
This  is  theffect  and  ende  of  my  preyere, 
Yif  me  my  love,  thou  blisful  lady  dere.' 

Whan  thorisoun  was  doon  of  Palamon, 
His  sacrifice  he  dide,  and  that  anon  2262 
Ful  pitously,  with  alle  circumstaunces, 
Al  telle  1  noght  as  now  his  observaunces. 
But    atte    laste    the    statue    of    Venus 

shook,  2265 

And  made  a  signe,  wher-by  that  he  took 
That  his  preyere  accepted  was  that  day. 
I'^or  thogh  the  signe  shewed  a  delay, 
Yet  wiste  he  wel  that  graunted  was  his 

bone ; 
And  with  glad  herte  he  wente  him  hoom 

ful  sone.  2270 

The  thridde  houre  inequal  that  Pala- 

moun 
Bigan  to  Venus  temple  for  to  goon. 
Up  roos  the  sonne,  and  up  roos  Emelye, 
And  to  the  temple  of  Diane  gan  hye. 
Hir  maydens,  that  she    thider  with   hir 

ladde,  2275 


Ful  redily  with  hem  the  fyr  they  hadde, 
Thencens,  the  clothes,  and  the  remenant  al 
That  to  the  sacrifyce  longen  shal;      2278 
The  homes  fuUe  of  meth,  as  was  the  gyse ; 
Ther  lakked  noght  to  doon  hir  sacrifyse. 
Smoking  the  temple,  ful  of  clothes  faire, 
This  Emelye,  with  herte  debonaire, 
Hir  body  wessh  with  water  of  a  welle; 
But  how  she  dide  hir  ryte  I  dar  nat  telle. 
But  it  be  any  thing  in  general;  2285 

And  yet  it  were  a  game  to  heren  al; 
To  him   that    meneth   wel,    it   were   no 

charge : 
But  it  is  good  a  man  ben  at  his  large. 
Hir  brighte  heer  was  kempt,  untressed  al; 
A  coroune  of  a  grene  ook  cerial         2290 
Up-on  hir  heed  was  set  ful  fair  and  mete. 
Two  fyres  on  the  auter  gan  she  bete, 
And  dide  hir  thinges,  as  men  may  biholde 
In  Stace  of  Thebes,  and  thise  bokes  olde. 
Whan  kindled  was  the  fyr,  with  pitous 

chere  2295 

Un-to  Diane  she  spak,  as  ye  may  here. 

'O  chaste  goddesse  of  the  wodes  grene, 
To  whom  bothe  hevene  and  erthe  and 

see  is  sene, 
Quene   of  the  regne  of  Pluto  derk  and 

lowe, 
Goddesse  of  maydens,  that   myn   herte 

hast  knowe  2300 

Ful    many   a   yeer,    and   woost   what    I 

desire. 
As  keep  me  fro  thy  vengeaunce  and  thyn 

ire. 
That  Attheon  aboughte  cruelly. 
Chaste  goddesse,  wel  wostow  that  I 
Desire  to  been  a  mayden  al  my  lyf,  2305 
Ne  never  wol  I  be  no  love  ne  wyf. 
I  am,  thou  woost,  yet  of  thy  companye, 
A  mayde,  and  love  hunting  and  venerye. 
And  for  to  walken  in  the  wodes  wilde. 
And  noght  to  been  a  wyf,  and  be  with 

childe.  2310 

Noght  wol  I  knowe  companye  of  man. 
Now  help  me,  lady,  sith  ye  may  and  can. 
For  tho  thre  formes  that  thou  hast  in 

thee. 
And  Palamon,  that  hath  swich  love  to 

me,  2314 

And  eek  Arcite,  that  loveth  me  so  sore. 
This  grace  I  preye  thee  with-oute  more, 
As  sende  love  and  pees  bitwixe  hem  two; 
And  fro  me  turne  awey  hir  hertes  so, 


2319-2394-} 


A.     THE   KNIGHTES   TALE. 


495 


That  al  hir  bote  love,  and  hir  desyr, 
And  al  hir  l)isy  torment,  and  hir  fyr  2320 
Be  ijueyiit,  or  turned  in  another  place; 
And  if  So  be  thou  wolt  not  do  me  grace, 
Or  if  my  destinee  be  shapen  so, 
That  I  shal  nedes  have  oon  of  hem  two, 
As  sende  me  him  that  most  desireth  mo. 
Bihold,  goddesse  of  clene  ehastitee,  2326 
The  bittre  teres  that  on  my  chekes  falle. 
Sin  thou  are  mayde,  and   keper  of  us 

alle. 
My  niaydenhede  thou  kepe  and  wel  con- 
serve. 
And  whyl  I  live   a   mayde,  I  wol  thee 

serve.'  2330 

The  fyres  brenne  up-on  the  auter  clere, 
Whyl  Emelye  was  thus  in  hir  preyere; 
But  sodeinly  she  saugh  a  sighte  queynte, 
For  right  anon  oon  of  the  fyres  queynte, 
And  quiked  agayn,  and  after  that  anon 
That  other  fyr  was  queynt,  and  al  agon; 
And  as  it  queynte,  it  made  a  whistelinge. 
As  doon  thise  wete  brondes  in  hir  bren- 

ninge,  2338 

And  at  the  brondes  ende  out-ran  anoon 
As  it  were  l)lody  dropes  many  oon; 
For  which  so  sore  agast  was  Emelye, 
That  she  was  wel    ny  mad,  and   gan  to 

crye, 
For  she  ne  wiste  what  it  signifyed; 
But    only   for  the    fere   thus    hath    she 

cryed. 
And    weep,    that    it    was    pitee   for   to 

here.  2345 

And  ther-with-al  Diane  gan  appere, 
With   bowe  in  hond,  right  as  an  hunter- 

esse. 
And   seyde :    '  Doghter,  stint  thyn  hevi- 

nesse. 
Among  the  goddes  hye  it  is  affermed. 
And    by  eterne    word    write    and    con- 

ferraed,  2350 

Thou  shalt   ben    wedded    un-to   oon    of 

the 
That  han  for  thee  so  muchel  care  and 

wo; 
But  un-to  which  of  hem  I  may  nat  telle. 
Farwel,  for  I  ne  may  no  lenger  dwelle. 
The    fyres    which    that    on    myn    autcr 

brenne  2351^ 

Shul    thee    declaren,   er   that    thou   go 

henne 
Thyn  aventure  of  love,  as  in  this  cas.' 


And  with  that  word,  the  arwes  in   the 

cas 
Of  the  goddesse  clateren  faste  and  ringe. 
And   forth  she  vvente,  and  made  a  van- 

isshinge;  2360 

For  which  this  Emelye  astoned  was, 
And  seyde,  '  What  amountcth  this,  alias  ! 
I  putte  me  in  thy  proteccioun, 
Diane,  and  in  thy  disjiosicioun.' 
And    hoom    she    gooth    anon    the  nexte 

weye.  2365 

This  is  theffect,  ther  is  namore  to  seye. 
The   nexte    houre   of    Mars   folwinge 

this 
Arcite  un-to  the  temple  walked  is 
Of  fierse  Mars,  to  doon  his  sacrifyse, 
With      alle      the    rytes    of    his    payen 

wyse.  2370 

With  pitous  herte  and  heigh  devocioun. 
Right  thus  to  Mars  he  seyde  his  orisoun  : 
'  O   stronge    god,    that    in  the    regnes 

colde 
Of  Trace  honoured  art,  and  lord  y-holde, 
And    hast    in    every    regne    and   every 

lond  2375 

Of  armes  al  the  brydel  in  thyn  hond. 
And  hem  fortunest  as  thee  list  devyse, 
Accept  of  me  my  pitous  sacrifyse. 
If  so  be  that  my  youthe  may  deserve, 
And    that    my   might   be   worthy   for    to 

serve  23S0 

Thy  godhede,  that  I   may  been  oon  of 

thyne. 
Than   preye  I   thee  to  rewe   up-on  my 

pyne. 
For  thilke  peyne,  and  thilke  hote  fyr, 
In    which    thou   whylom    brendest    for 

desyr. 
Whan     that    thou     usedest    the     grete 

beautee  2385 

Of  fayre  yonge  fresshe  Venus  free. 
And  haddest  hir  in  armes  at  thy  wille, 
Al-though  thee  ones  on  a  tyme  mistille 
Whan  Vulcanus  had  caught  thee  in  his 

las. 
And    fond     thee    ligging    by    his    wyf, 

alias !  2390 

For  thilke  sorwe  that  was  in  thyn  herte. 
Have    routhe  as  wel    up-on    my  peynes 

smerte. 
I  am  yong  and  unkonning,  as  thou  wost, 
And,    as    I    trowe,    with    love    offended 

most, 


496 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2395-2477. 


That  ever  was  any  lyves  creature;     2395 
Vot    she,    that     dooth    me   al    this   wo 

endure, 
Ne  reccheth  never  wher  I  sinke  or  flete. 
And  wel  I  wQot,  er  she  me  mercy  hete, 
1  moot  with  strengthe  winne  hir  in  the 

place ; 
And  wel  I  woot,  withouten  help  or  grace 
Of   thee,   ne    may   my   strengthe    noght 

availle.  2401 

Than    help   me,    lord,   to-morwe  in   my 

bataille, 
For  thilke  fyr  that  whylom  brente  thee, 
As  wel  as  thilke  fyr  now  brenneth  me; 
And  do  that  I  to-morwe  have  victorie. 
Myn   be    the  travaille,  and  thyn  be  the 

glorie !  2406 

Thy  soverein  temple  wol  I  most  honouren 
Of  any  place,  and  alwey  most  labouren 
In    thy    plesaunce    and    in    thy   craftes 

stronge. 
And    in  .thy   temple    I   wol    my   baner 

honge,  2410 

And  alle  the  armes  of  my  companye; 
And  evere-mo,  un-to  that  day  I  dye, 
Eterne  fyr  I  wol  biforn  thee  finde. 
And  eek  to  this  avow  I  wol  me  binde: 
My  berd,  myn  heer  that   hongeth   long 

adoun,  2415 

That  never  yet  ne  felte  offensioun 
Of  rasour  nor  of  shere,  I  wol  thee  yive, 
And  ben  thy  trewe  servant  whyl  I  live. 
Now  lord,  have  routhe  up-on  my  sorwes 

sore, 
Yif  me  victorie,  I  aske  thee  namore.'   2420 
The  preyere  stinte  of  Arcita  the  stronge. 
The    ringes    on    the    temple-dore    that 

honge. 
And  eek  the  dores,  clatereden  ful  faste. 
Of  which  Arcita  som-what  him  agaste. 
The     fyres     brende     up-on     the     auter 

brighte,  2425 

That  it  gan  al  the  temple  for  to  lighte; 
And  swete  smel  the  ground  anon  up-yaf. 
And  Arcita  anon  his  hand  up-haf, 
And  more  encens  in-to  the  fyr  he  caste, 
With  othererytesmo;   andattelaste  2430 
The  statue   of  Mars   bigan  his  hauberk 

ringe. 
And  with  that  soun  he  herde  a  murmur- 

inge 
Ful  lowe  and  dim,  that  sayde  thus,  '  Vic- 
torie ' : 


For  which  he  yaf  to  Mars   honour   and 

glorie. 
And    thus  with    loye,  and   hope  wel   to 

fare,  2435 

Arcite  anon  un-to  his  inne  is  fare. 
As  fayn  as  fowel  is  of  the  brighte  Sonne. 
And   right   anon   swich   stryf    ther   is 

bigonne 
For    thilke    graunting,    in    the    hevene 

above, 
Bitwixe  Venus,  the  goddesse  of  love,  2440 
And  Mars,  the  sterne  god  armipotente, 
That  lupiter  was  bisy  it  to  stente; 
Til  that  the  pale  Saturnus  the  colde. 
That  knew  so  manye  of  aventures  olde, 
Fond  in  his  olde  experience  an  art,    2445 
That  he  ful  sone  hath  plesed  every  part. 
As  sooth  is  sayd,  elde  hath  greet  avantage; 
In  elde  is  bothe  wisdom  and  usage; 
Men  may  the  olde  at-renne,  and  noght  at- 

rede.  2449 

Saturne  anon,  to  stinten  stryf  and  drede, 
Al  be  it  that  it  is  agayn  his  kynde, 
Of  al  this  stryf  he  gan  remedie  fynde. 

'  My  dere  doghter  Venus,'  quod  Saturne, 
*  My  cours,  that  hath  so  wyde  for  to  turne. 
Hath  more  power  than  wot  any  man.  2455 
Myn  is  the  drenching  in  the  see  so  wan; 
Myn  is  the  prison  in  the  derke  cote; 
Myn  is  the  strangling  and  hanging  by  the 

throte; 
The  murmure,  and  the  cherles  rebelling, 
The  groyning,  and  the  pryvee  empoyson- 

ing :  2460  ^'^ 

I  do  vengeance  and  pleyn  correccioun 
Whyl  I  dwelle  in  the  signe  of  the  leoun. 
Myn  is  the  ruine  of  the  hye  halles. 
The  falling  of  the  toures  and  of  the  walles 
Up-on  the  mynour  or  the  carpenter.    2465 
I  slow  Sampsoun  in  shaking  the  piler; 
And  myne  be  the  maladyes  colde. 
The  derke  tresons,  and  the  castes  olde; 
My  loking  is  the  fader  of  pestilence. 
Now    weep    namore,    I    shal    doon    dili- 
gence 2470 
That  Palamon,  that  is  thyn  owne  knight, 
Shal  have  his  lady,  as  thou  hast  him  hight. 
Though  Mars  shal  helpe  his  knight,  yet 

nathelees 
Bitwixe  yow  ther  moot  be  som  tyme  pees, 
Al  be  ye  noght  of  o  complexioun,      2475 
That  causeth  al  day  swich  divisioun. 
I  am  thin  ayel,  redy  at  thy  wille; 


2478-2548.] 


A.    THE   KNIGHTES  TALE. 


497 


Weep  thou  namore,  I  wol  thy  lust   ful- 

fille.' 
Now  wol  I  stinten  of  the  gocUles  above, 
Of    Mars,   and   of  Venus,   goddesse   of 

love,  2480 

And  telle  yow,  as  pleynly  as  I  can. 
The  grete  effect,  for  which  that  I  bigan. 

Explicit    tercia   pars,       Seqiiiinr   pars 
quarta. 

Greet  was   the    feste  in  Athenes  that 

day. 
And  eek  the  lusty  seson  of  that  May 
Made  every  wight  to  been  in  swich  ple- 

saunce,  2485 

That   al   that   Monday  lusten  they  and 

daunce. 
And  spenden  it  in  Venus  heigh  servyse. 
But  by  the  cause  that  they  sholde  ryse 
Erly,  for  to  seen  the  grete  fight, 
Unto  hir  reste  wente  they  at  night.    2490 
And  on  the  morwe,  whan  that  day  gan 

springe. 
Of  hors  and  barneys,  noyse  and  clateringe 
Ther  was  in  hostelryes  al  aboute; 
And  to  the  paleys  rood  ther  many  a  route 
Of  lordes,  up-on  stedes  and  palfreys.   2495 
Ther  maystow  seen  devysing  of  herneys 
So  uncouth  and  so  riche,  and  wroght  so 

weel 
Of  goldsmithrie,   of    browding,   and   of 

steel; 
The  sheeldes  brighte,  testers,  and  trap- 

pures; 
Gold-hewen     helmes,     hauberks,     cote- 

armures;  2500 

Lordes  in  paraments  on  hir  courseres, 
Knightes  of  retenue,  and  eek  squyeres 
Nailinge   the  speres,  and   helmes   boke- 

linge, 
Gigginge  of  sheeldes,  with  layneres  lac- 

inge; 
Ther    as   need   is,  they   weren   no-thing 

ydel;  2505 

The  fomy  stedes  on  the  golden  brydel 
Gnawinge,  and  faste  the  armurers  also 
With  fyle  and  hamer  prikinge  to  and  fro; 
Yemen  on  fote,  and  communes  many  oon 
With  shorte  staves,  thikke  as  they  may 

goon;  2510 

Pypes,  trompes,  nakers,  clariounes. 
That  in  the  bataille  blowen  blody  sounes; 


The  paleys  ful  of  peples  up  and  doun, 
Heer  three,  ther  ten,  holding  hir  ques- 

tioun, 
Divyninge    of    thise    Thebane    knightes 

two.  2515 

Somme  seyden  thus,  somme  seyde  it  shal 

be  so; 
Somme  helden  with  him  with  the  l)lake 

berd, 
Somme  with  the  balled,  somme  with  the 

thikke-herd; 
Somme    sayde,    he    loked    grim    and    he 

wolde  fighte; 
He  hath  a  sparth    of  twenty  pound  of 

wighte.  2520 

Thus  was  the  halle  ful  of  divyninge, 
Longe  after  that  the  sonne  gan  to  springe. 
\Tne  grete  Theseus,  that   of  his  sleep 

awaked 
With    minstralcye   and    noyse   that   was 

maked. 
Held    yet    the    chambre   of   his   paleys 

riche,  2525 

Til  that  the  Thebane  knightes,  bothe  y- 

.  liche 
Honoured,  were  into  the  paleys  fet. 
Duk  Theseus  was  at  a  window  set. 
Arrayed  right  as  he  were  a  god  in  trone. 
The    peple    preesseth    thider-ward     ful 

sone  2530 

Him  for  to  seen,  and  doon  heigh  rever- 
ence. 
And  eek  to  herkne  his  hest]  and  his  sen- 
tence. 
An  heraud  on  a  scaffold  made  an  ho, 
Til  al  the  noyse  of  the  peple  was  y-do; 
And  whan  he  saugh  the  peple  of  noyse 

al  stille,  _  2535 

Tho  showed  he  the  mighty  dukes  wille. 

'The  lord  hath  of  his  heigh  discrecioun 
Considered,  that  it  were  destruccioun 
To  gentil  blood,  to  fighten  in  the  gyse 
Of  mortal  bataille  now  in  this  emiiryse; 
Wherfore,  to  shapen  that  they  shul  not 

dye,  2541 

He  wol  his  firste  purpos  modifye. 
No  man  therfor,  up  peyne  of  los  of  lyf, 
No  maner  shot,  ne  pollax,  ne  short  knyf 
Into  the  listes  sende,  or  thider  bringe; 
Ne  short  swerd  for  to  stoke,  with  poynt 

bytinge,  2546 

No  man  ne  drawe,  ne  bere  it  by  his  syile. 
Ne  no  man  shall  un-to  his  felawe  ryde 


498 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[2549-2619, 


But    o    cours,    with   a   sharp   y-grounde 

spere; 

Foyne,   if  him  list,  on   fote,  him-self  to 

j^<i  &K-v^C^         were.  2550 

And  he  that  is  at  meschief,  shal  be  take, 

And  noght  slayn,  but   be   broght  un-to 

the  stake 
That  shal  ben  ordeyned  on  either  syde; 
But    thider   he    shal   by  torce,   and  ther 

aliyde.  2554 

And  if  so  falle,  the  chieftayn  be  take 
On  either  syde,  or  elles  slee  his  make. 
No  lenger  shall  the  turneyinge  laste. 
God  spede  yow;   goth  forth,  and  ley  on 

faste. 
With  long  swerd  and   with  maces  fight 

your  fille. 
Goth  now  your  wey;   this  is  the  lordes 

wille.'  2560 

The     voys    of    peple    touchede     the 

hevene. 
So  loude  cryden  they  with  mery  stevene  : 
'  God  save  swich  a  lord,  that  is  so  good, 
He  wilneth  no  destruccioun  of  blood  !  ' 
Up    goon    the    trompes   and    the    melo- 

dye.  2565 

And  to  the  listes  rit  the  companye 
By    ordinaunce,     thurgh-out    the     citee 

large. 
Hanged  with  cloth  of  gold,  and  nat  with 

sarge. 
Ful  lyk  a  lord  this  noble  duk  gan  ryde, 
Thise     two     Thebanes      up-on     either 

syde;  2570 

And  after  rood  the  quene,  and  Emelye, 
And  after  that  another  companye 
Of  oon  and  other,  after  hir  degree. 
And    thus    they   passen   thurgh-out   the 

citee,  2574 

And  to  the  listes  come  they  by  tyme. 
It  nas  not  of  the  day  yet  fully  pryme, 
Whan  set  was  Theseus  ful  riche  and  hye, 
Ipolita  the  quene  and  Emelye, 
And  other  ladies  in  degrees  aboute. 
Un-to  the  seetes  preesseth  al  the  route. 
And  west-ward,  thurgh  the  gates  under 

Marte,  2581 

Arcile,  and  eek  the  hundred  of  his  parte. 
With  baner  reed  is  entred  right  anon; 
And  in  that  selve  moment  Palamon 
Is  under  Venus,  est-ward  in  the  place. 
With  baner  whyt,  and  hardy  chere  and 

face.  2586 


In  al  the  world,  to  seken  up  and  doun, 
So  even  with-outen  variacioun, 
Ther  nere  swiche  companyes  tweye. 
For   ther   nas   noon  so  wys  that  coude 

seye,  2590 

That  any  hadde  of  other  avauntage 
Of  worthinesse,  ne  of  estaat,  ne  age. 
So  even  were  they  chosen,  for  to  gesse. 
And  in  two  renges  faire  they  hem  dresse. 
Whan    that    hir    names   rad  were   ever- 

ichoon,  2595 

That  in  hir  nombre  gyle  were  ther  noon, 
Tho  were  the  gates  shet,  and  cryed  was 

loude : 
'  Do   now  your   devoir,  yonge   knightes 

proude ! ' 
The  heraudes  lefte  hir  priking  up  and 

doun; 
Now  ringen  trompes  loude  and  clarioun; 
Ther  is  namore  to   seyn,  but  west  and 

est  2601 

In  goon  the  speres  ful  sadly  in  arest; 
In  goth  the  sharpe  spore  in-to  the  syde. 
Ther  seen  men  who  can  luste,  and  who 

can  ryde; 
Ther    shiveren    shaftes    up-on    sheeldes 

thikke;  2605 

He   feleth    thurgh   the   herte-spoon    the 

prikke. 
Up    springen    speres    twenty    foot    on 

highte; 
Out    goon    the    swerdes    as    the    silver 

brighte. 
The  helmes  they  to-hewen  and  to-shrede; 
Out  brest  the  blood,  with  sterne  stremes 

rede.  2610 

With  mighty  maces  the  bones  they  to- 

breste. 
He  thurgh  the  thikkeste  of  the  throng 

gan  threste. 
Ther  stomblen  stedes  stronge,  and  doun 

goth  al. 
He  rolleth  under  foot  as  dooth  a  bal. 
He  foyneth  on  his  feet  with   his  tron- 

choun,  2615 

And    he    him    hurtleth   with    his    hors 

adoun. 
He  thurgh  the  body  is  hurt,  and  sithen 

y-take, 
Maugree  his  heed,  and  broght  un-to  the. 

stake. 
As   forward   was,   right    ther    he   moste 

abyde; 


2620-2698.] 


A.    THE  KNIGPITES  TALE. 


499 


Another  lad  is  on  that  other  syde.     2620 
And  som  tyme  dooth   hem   Theseus  to 

reste, 
Hem  to  refresshe,  and  drinken  if  hem 

leste. 
Ful  ofte  a-day  han  thise  Thebanes  two 
Togidre  y-met,  and   wroght    liis   felawe 

wo; 
Unhorsed  hath  ech  other  of  hem  tvvcye. 
Thcr  nas  no  tygre  in  the  vale  of  Galgo- 

pheye,  2626 

Whan  that  hir  whelp  is  stole,  whan  it  is 

lyte. 
So  cruel  on  the  hunte,  as  is  Arcite 
For  Iflous  herte  upon  this  Palamoun  : 
Ne  in  Helmarye  ther  nis  so  fel  leoun,  2630 
Tliat  hunted  is,  or  for  his  hunger  wood, 
Ne  of  his  praye  desireth  so  the  blood, 
As  Palamon  to  sleen  his  fo  Arcite. 
The  lelous  strokes  on  hir  helmes  byte; 
Out  renneth  blood  on  bothe  hir  sydes 

rede.  2635 

Som  tyme  an  ende  ther  is  of  every 

dede ; 
For  er  the  sonne  un-to  the  reste  wente, 
The  stronge  king  Emetreus  gan  hente 
This  I'alamon,  as  he  faught  with  Arcite, 
And  made  his  swerd  depe  in  his  liesh  to 

byte ;  2640 

And  by  the  force  of  twenty  is  he  take 
Unyolden,  and  y-drawe  unto  the  stake. 
And  in  the  rescous  of  this  Palamoun 
The  stronge  king  Ligurge  is  born  adoun; 
And  king  Emetreus,  for  al  his  strengthe, 
Is   born    out    of    his    sadel    a   swerdes 

lengthe,  2646 

So  hitte  him  Palamon  er  he  were  take; 
But  al  for  noght,  he  was  broght  to  the 

stake. 
His    hardy    herte     mighte    him    helpe 

naught; 
He    moste    abyde,   whan    that    he   was 

caught  2650 

By  force,  and  eek  by  composicioun. 
Who    sorweth    now   but   woful    Pala- 
moun, 
That  moot  namore  goon  agayn  to  fighte? 
And  whan    that  Theseus  had  seyn  this 

sighte,  2654 

Un-to  the  folk  that  foghten  thus  echoon 
He  cryde,  '  Ho!   namore,  for  it  is  doon ! 
I  wol  be  trewe  luge,  and  no  partye. 
Arcite  of  Thebes  shal  have  Emelye, 


That    by    his    fortune    hath    hir   faire    y- 

wonne.' 
Anon  ther  is  a  noyse  of  pcple  bigonne 
For    love    of  this,  so  loude    and    heigh 
with-alle,  266 1 

It  semed  that  the  listes  sholde  falle. 
What     can    now    faire    Venus    doon 
above  ? 
What  seith  she  now?   what   dooth   this 

quene  of  love? 
P)Ut  wepeth  so,  for  wanting  c)f  hir  willc. 
Til  that  hir  teres  in  the  listes  lille;     2666 
She  seyde  :   '  1  am  ashamed,  doutelees.' 
Saturnus     seyde :     '  Doghter,     hold    thy 

pees. 
Mars  hath  his  wille,  his  knight  hath  al 

his  bone. 

And,  by  myn  heed,  thou  shalt  ben  esed 

sone.'  2670 

The  trompes,  with  the  loude  minstral- 

cye. 

The  heraudes,  that   ful  loude  yoUe  and 

crye. 
Been  in  hir  wele  for  loye  of  daun  Arcite. 
But   herkneth    me,  and   stinteth   now   a 

lyte. 
Which  a  miracle  ther  bifel  anon.       2675 
This  fierse   Arcite   hath    of  his   helm 
y-don. 
And  on  a  courser,  for  to  shewe  his  face, 
He  priketh  endelong  the  large  place, 
Loking  upward  up-on  this  Emelye  ; 
And  she  agayn   him  caste  a  freendlich 
ye,  2680 

(For  wommen,  as  to  speken  in  comune, 
They  folwen  al  the  favour  of  fortune,) 
And  she  was  al  his  chere,  as  in  his  herte. 
Out  of  the  ground  a  furie  infernal  sterte, 
From  Pluto  sent,  at  requeste  of  Saturne, 
For  which  his  hors  for  fere  gan  to  turne. 
And  leep  asyde,  and  foundred  as  he  leep; 
And,  er  that  Arcite  may  taken  keep. 
He  pighte  him  on  the  pomel  of  his  heed. 
That  in   the  place    he    lay   as   he  were 
deed,  2690 

His  brest  to-brosten  with  his  sadel-bowe. 
As  blak  he  lay  as  any  cole  or  crowe. 
So  was  the  blood  y-ronnen  in  his  face. 
Anon  he  was  y-born  out  of  the  place 
With  herte  soor,  to  Theseus  jialeys.    2695 
Tho  was  he  corven  out  of  his  barneys. 
And  in  a  bed  y-brought  ful  faire  and  blyve, 
For  he  was  yet  in  memorie  and  alyve, 


500 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2699-2787. 


And  alway  crying  after  Enielye.  2699 

Duk  Theseus,  with  al  his  companye, 
Is  comen  hoom  to  Athenes  his  citee, 
With  alia  blisse  and  greet  solempnitee. 
Al  be  it  that  this  aventure  was  falle, 
He  nolde  noght  disconforten  hem  alle. 
Men    seyde    eek,   that    Arcite   shal   nat 

dye;  2705 

He  shal  ben  heled  of  his  maladye. 
And  of  another  thing  they  were  as  fayn, 
That  of  hem  alle  was  ther  noon  y-slayn, 
Al  were  they  sore  y-hurt,  and  namely  oon, 
That  with  a  spere  was  thirled  his  brest- 

boon.  2710 

To  othere  woundes,  and  to  broken  armes, 
Some  hadden   salves,  and  some  hadden 

charmes;  0, 

Fermacies  of  herbes,  and  eek  sa^e 
They  dronken,  for  they  wolde  hir  limes 

have.  2714 

For  which  this  noble  duk,  as  he  wel  can, 
Conforteth  and  honoureth  every  man. 
And  made  revel  al  the  longe  night, 
Un-to  the  straunge  lordes,  as  was  right. 
Ne  ther  was  holden  no  disconfitinge, 
But  as  a  lustes  or  a  tourneyinge;       2720 
For  soothly  ther  was  no  disconfiture, 
For  falling  nis  nat  but  an  aventure; 
Ne  to  be  lad  with  fors  un-to  the  stake 
Unyolden,  and  with  twenty  knightes  take, 
O  persone  allone,  with-outen  moy^     2725 
And  haried  forth  by  arme,  foot,  and  to, 
And  eek  his  stede  driven  forth  with  staves, 
With    footmen,   bothe    yemen   and   eek 

knaves. 
It  nas  aretted  him  no  vileinye,  2729 

Ther  may  no  man  clepen  it  cowardye. 

For  which  anon  duk  Theseus  leet  crye. 
To  stinten  alle  rancour  and  envye. 
The  gree  as  wel  of  o  syde  as  of  other. 
And  either  syde  y-lyk,  as  otheres  brother; 
And  yaf  hem  yiftes  after  hir  degree,  2735 
And  fully  heeld  a  feste  dayes  three; 
And  conveyed  the  kinges  worthily 
Out  of  his  toun  a  lournee  largely. 
And  hoom  wente  every  man  the  righte 

way. 
Ther  was  namore,  but '  far  wel,  have  good 

day ! '  2740 

Of  this  bataille  I  wol  namore  endyte. 
But  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcite. 
Svvelleth  the  brest  of  Arcite,  and  the 

sore 


Encreesseth  at  his  herte  more  and  more. 
The    clothered    blood,    for    any    leche- 

craft,  2745 

Corrupteth,  and  is  in  his  bouk  y-laft. 
That  neither  veyne-blood,  ne  ventusinge, 
Ne  drinke  of  herbes  may  ben  his  help- 

inge. 
The  vertu  expulsif,  or  animal, 
Fro  thilke  vertu  cleped  natural  2750 

Ne  may  the  venim  voyden,  ne  expelle. 
The  pypes  of  his  longes  gonne  to  svvelle, 
And  every  lacerte  in  his  brest  adoun 
Is  shent  with  venim  and  corrupcioun. 
Him    gayneth    neither,    for   to   gate    his 

lyf.  .  2755 

Vomyt  upward,  ne  dounward  laxatif; 
Al  is  to-brosten  thilke  regioun, 
Nature  hath  now  no  dominacioun. 
And  certeinly,  ther  nature  wol  nat  wirche, 
Par-wel,   phisyk !    go   bar   the    man    to 

chirche !  2760 

This  al  and  som,  that  Arcita  mot  dye, 
For  which  he  sendeth  after  Emelye, 
And  Palamon,  that  was  his  cosin  dere; 
Than  seyda  he  thus,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 
'  Naught  may  the  woful  spirit  in  myn 

herte  2765 

Declare  o  poynt  of  alle  my  sorwes  smerte 
To  yow,  my  lady,  that  I  love  most; 
But  I  biquathe  the  service  of  my  gost 
To  yow  aboven  every  creature. 
Sin  that  my  lyf  may  no  lenger  dure.    2770 
Alias,  the  wo !  alias,  the  peynes  stronge, 
That  I  for  yow  have  suffred,  and  so  longa  ! 
Alias,  the  daeth  !  alias,  myn  Emelye  ! 
Alias,  departing  of  our  companye  ! 
Alias,    myn    hertes     quene !     alias,    my 

wyf!     A)  -  ■  2775 

Myn  hertes  lady„endere  of  my  lyf! 
What  is  this  world?  what  asketh  men  to 

have? 
Now  with    his   love,    now   in   his   colde 

grave 
Allone,  with-outen  any  companye. 
Far-wel,  my  swete  fo  !  myn  Emalye  !  2780 
And  softe  tak  me  in  your  armes  tweya, 
For  love  of  God,  and  herkneth  -what  I 

saye. 
I  have  hear  with  my  cosin  Palamon 
Had  stryf  and  rancour,  many  a  day  a-gon. 
For  love  of  yow,  and  for  my  lelousye.  2785 
And  lupiter  so  wis  my  soule  gve. 
To  speken  of  a  servant  propraly. 


2788-2868.] 


A.    THE   KNIGHTES   TALE. 


501 


With  alle  circumstaunces  trewely, 

That    is   to   seyn,    trouthe,    honour,   and 

kiiiy[hthede, 
Wisdom,    humblesse,   estaat,    and   heigh 

kinrede,  2790 

Fredoni,  and  al  that  longeth  to  that  art, 
So  lupiter  have  of  my  soule  part. 
As  in  this  world  right  now  ne  knowe  I 

non 
So  worthy  to  ben  loved  as  Palamon, 
That  serveth  yow,  and  wol   don   al   his 

lyf.  2795 

And  if  that  ever  ye  shul  been  a  wyf, 
Foryet  nat  Palamon,  the  gentil  man.' 
And  « ith  that  word  his  speche  faille  gan. 
For  from  his  feet  up  to  his  brest  was  come 
The  cold  of  deeth,  that  hadde  him  over- 
come. 2800 
And  yet  more-over,  in  his  armes  two 
The  vital  strengthe  is  lost,  and  al  ago. 
Only  the  intellect,  with-outen  more, 
That  dwelled  in  his  herte  syk  and  sore, 
Gan     faillen,     when     the     herte     felte 

deeth,  2805 

Dusked  his  eyen  two,  and  failled  breeth. 
But  on  his  lady  yet  caste  he  his  ye; 
His  laste  word  was,  '  mercy,  Emelye  ! ' 
His   spirit    chaunged    hous,   and   wente 

ther,  2809 

As  I  cam  never,  I  can  nat  tellen  wher. 
Therfor  I  stinte,  I  nam  no  divinistre; 
Of  soules  finde  I  nat  in  this  registre, 
Ne  me  ne  list  thilke  opiniouns  to  telle 
Of  hem,  though  that  they  wryten  wher 

they  dwelle.  2814 

Arcite  is  cold,  ther  Mars  his  soule  gye; 
Now  wol  I  speken  forth  of  Emelye. 

Shrighte  Emelye,  and  howleth  Palamon, 
And  Theseus  his  suster  took  anon 
Swowninge,  and  bar    hir   fro   the  corps 

away.  2819 

What  helpeth  it  to  tarien  forth  the  day. 
To  tellen  how  she  weep,  bothe  eve  and 

morvve  ? 
For  in  swich  cas  wommen   have   swich 

sorwe. 
Whan  that  hir  housbonds  been  from  hem 

ago, 
That  for  the  more  part  they  sorwen  so, 
Or  elles  fallen  in  swich  maladye,        2825 
That  at  the  laste  certeinly  they  dye. 

Inlinite  been  the  sorwes  and  the  teres 
Of  olde  folk,  and  folk  of  tendre  yeres, 


In  al  the  toun,  for  deeth  of  this  Theban; 
For    him    ther  wepeth  bothe    child   and 

man;  2830 

So  greet  a  weping  was  ther  noon,  certayn, 
Whan    Ector    was    y-broght,  al   fresh   y- 

slayn, 
ToTroye;    alias!   the  pitee  that  was  ther, 
Cracching  of  chekes,  rending  eek  of  heer. 
'  Why  woldestow  be  deed,'  thise  wommen 

crye,  2835 

'  And  haddest  gold  y-nough,  and  Emelye  ?  ' 
No  man  mighte  gladen  'iheseus, 
Savinge  his  olde  fader  Egeus, 
That  knew  this  worldes  transmutacioun, 
As    he    had    seyn    it    chaungen    up    and 

doun,  2840 

loye  after  wo,  and  wo  after  gladnesse : 
And  shewed  hem  ensamples  and  lyknesse. 
'  Right  as  ther  deyed  never  man,'  quod 

he, 
'That    he    ne    livede   in   erthe   in   som 

degree. 
Right    so    ther    livede    never    man,'    he 

seyde,  2845 

'  In  al  this  world,  that  som  tyme  he  ne 

deyde. 
This  world  nis  but  a  thurghfare  ful  of  wo, 
And  we  ben  pilgrimes,  passinge  to  and 

fro; 
Deeth  is  an  ende  of  every  worldly  sore.' 
And  over   al   this  yet  seyde  he  muchel 

more  2850 

To  this  effect,  ful  wysly  to  enhorte 
The  peple,  that  they  sholde  hem  recon- 

forte. 
Duk  Theseus,  with  al  his  bisy  cure, 
Caste  now  wher  that  the  sepulture 
Of  good  Arcite  may  best  y-maked  be,  2855 
And  eek  most  honurable  in  his  degree. 
And  at  the  laste  he  took  conclusioun, 
That  ther  as  first  Arcite  and  Palamoun 
Hadden  for  love  the  bataille  hem  bitwene, 
That    in    that    selve   grove,   swote    ami 

grene,  2860 

Ther  as  he  hadde  his  amorous  desires. 
His  compleynt,  and  for  love  his  hote  fires, 
He  wolde  make  a  fyr,  in  which  thoffice 
Funeral  he  mighte  al  accomplice; 
And  leet  comaunde  anon  to  hakke   and 

hewe  2865 

The  okes  olde,  and  leye  hem  on  a  rewe 
In  colpons  wel  arrayed  for  to  brcnne; 
His  officers  with  swifte  feet  they  renne 


502 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2869-2941. 


And  ryde  anon  at  his  comaundement. 
And  after  this,  Theseus  hath  y-sent     2870 
After  a  here,  and  it  al  over-spradde 
With  cloth  of  gold,  the  richest  that  he 

hadde. 
And  of  the  same  suyte  he  cladde  Arcite; 
Upon  his  hondes  hadde  he  gloves  whyte; 
Eek    on    his   heed    a    croune    of    laurer 

grene,  2875 

And  in  his  hond  a  swerd  ful  bright  and 

kene. 
He  leyde  him  bare  the  visage  on  the  here, 
Therwith  he  weep  that  pitee  was  to  here. 
And  for  the  peple  sholde  seen  him  alle. 
Whan  it  was  day,  he  broghte  him  to  the 

halle,  2880 

That  roreth  of  the  crying  and  the  soun. 

The  cam  this  woful  Theban  Palamoun, 
With  flotery  berd,  and  ruggy  asshy  heres. 
In  clothes  blake,  y-dropped  al  with  teres; 
And,    passing    othere    of    weping,    Em- 

elye,  2885 

The  rewfulleste  of  al  the  companye. 
In  as  muche  as  the  service  sholde  be 
The  more  noble  and  riche  in  his  degree, 
Duk    Theseus    leet    forth    three   stedes 

bringe,  2889 

That  trapped  were  in  steel  al  gliteringe. 
And    covered    with    the    armes    of  daun 

Arcite. 
Up-on  thise  stedes,  that  weren  grete  and 

whyte, 
Ther  seten  folk,  of  which  oon    bar   his 

sheeld. 
Another  his  spere  up  in  his  hondes  heeld; 
The    tliridde    bar    with    him    his    bovve 

Turkeys,  2895 

Of  JKend  gold  was  the  cas,  and  eek  the 

barneys; 
And  riden  forth  a  pas  with  sorweful  chere 
Toward  the  grove,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 
The   nobleste    of   the    Grekes    that    ther 

were 
Upon  hir  shuldres  carieden  the  here,   2900 
Withslalcke  pas,  and  eyen  rede  and  wete, 
Thurgh-out  the  citee,  by  the  maister-strete. 
That  sprad  was  al  with  blak,  and  wonder 

hye 
Right  of  the  same  is  al  the  strete  y-wrye. 
Up-on      the      right     hond      wente      old 

Egeus,  2905 

And  on  that  other  syde  duk  Theseus, 
With  vessels  in  hir  hand  of  gold  ful  fyn, 


Al  ful  of  hony,  milk,  and  blood,  and  wyn; 
Eek  Palamon,  with  ful  greet  companye; 
And  after  that  cam  woful  Emelye,      2910 
With  fyr  in  honde,  as  was  that  tyme  the 

gyse. 
To  do  thoffice  of  funeral  servyse. 
\Tleigh  labour,  and  ful  greet  apparail- 

linge 
Was  at  the  service  and  the  fyr-makinge. 
That    with    his    grene    top    the    heven 

raughte,  2915 

And   twenty  fadme   of  brede  the  amies 

straughte; 
This  is  to  seyn,  the  bowes  were  so  brode. 
Of  stree  first  ther  was  leyd  ful  many  a 

lode. 
But  how  the  fyr  was  maked  up  on  heighte, 
And     eek    the    names    how    the     trees 

highte,  2920 

As  ook,  firre,  birch,  asp,  alder,  holm,  pop- 

ler, 
Wilow,  elm,  plane,  ash,  box,  •  chasteyn, 

lind,  laurer, 
Mapul,  thorn,  beech,  hasel,  ew,  whippel- 

tree. 
How  they  weren  feld,  shal  nat  be  told  for 

me; 
Ne    how    the    goddes    ronnen    up    and 

doun,  2925 

Disherited  of  hir  habitacioun. 
In  which  they  woneden  in  reste  and  pees, 
Nymphes,  P'aunes,  and  Amadrides; 
Ne  how  the  bestes  and  the  briddes  alle 
Fledden    for    fere,  whan    the    wode  was 

falle ;  2930 

Ne  how  the   ground   agast   was   of  the 

light. 
That  was  nat  wont   to   seen   the  sonne 

bright; 
Ne   how  the  fyr  was  couched  first  with 

stree, 
And   than  with   drye   stokkes  cloven   a 

three,  2934 

And  than  with  grene  wode  and  spycerye. 
And  than  with   cloth    of  gold  and  with 

perrye, 
And  gerlandes  hanging  with  ful  many  a 

flour, 
The   mirre,   thencens,  with    al   so   greet 

odour; 
Ne  how  Arcite  lay  among  al  this, 
Ne  what  richesse  aboute  his  liody  is ;    2940 
Ne  how  that  Emelye,  as  was  the  gyse, 


2942-3020.] 


A.    THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


503 


Putte  in  the  fyr  of  funeral  servyse; 

Ne  how  she  swowneil  whan  men  made 

the  fyr, 
Ne  what  she  spak,  ne  what  was  hir  desyr; 
Ne    what    lewclcs    men    in    the    fyr    tho 

caste,  2945 

Whan  that  the  fyr  was  greet  and  brente 

faste ; 
Ne  how  som  caste  hir  sheeld,  and  sum  hir 

spere. 
And  of  hir  vestiments,  whiche  that  they 

were, 
And  cuppes  ful  of  wyn,  and    milk,  and 

hloutl,  2949 

\/v  I  ..  i  Into  the  fyr,  that  brente  as  it  were  wood; 
Ne  how  the  Grekes  with  an  huge  rbufe 
Thryes  riden  al  the  fyr  ahoute 
Up-on  the  left  hand,  with  a  loud  shout- 

inge, 
And  thryes  with  hir  speres  clateringe; 
And     thryes     how     the     ladies     gonne 

crye;  2955 

Ne  how  that  lad  was  honi-ward  Emelye; 
Ne  how  Arcite  is  brent  to  asshen  colde; 
Ne  how  that  liche-wake  was  y-holde 
Al  thilke  night,  ne  how  the  Grekes  pleye 
The  wake-pleyes,  ne  kepe  I  nat  to  seye; 
Who    wrastieth    best    naked,    with    oille 

enoynt,  2961 

Ne  who  that  bar  him  best,  in  no  disioynt. 
I  wol  nat  tellen  eek  how  that  they  goon 
Hoom    til    Athenes,    whan    the   pley    is 

doon; 
But    shortly   to    the   poynt    than   wol    I 

wende,  2965 

And  maken  of  my  longe  tale  an  ende. 
By  processe  and  by  lengthe  of  certeyn 

yeres 
Al  stinted  is  the  moorning  and  the  teres 
Of  CJrekes,  by  oon  general  assent. 
Than  semed  me  ther  was  a  parlement  2970 
At  Athenes,  up-on    certeyn  poynts  and 

cas; 
Among  the  whiche  poynts  y-spoken  was 
To  have  with  certeyn  contrees  alliaunce, 
And  have  fully  of  Thebans  obeisaunce. 
For  which  this  noble  Theseus  anon    2975 
Leet  senden  after  gentil  Palamon, 
Unwist  of  him  what  was  the  cause  and 

why ; 
But  in  his  blake  clothes  sorwefuUy 
He  cam  at  his  comauiidemcnt  in  hye. 
Tho  sente  Theseus  for  Emelye.  2980 


Whan  they  were  set,  and  hust  was  al  the 

place. 
And  Theseus  al)iden  hadde  a  space 
Er  any  word  cam  from  his  wyse  i)rest, 
His  eyen  sette  he  ther  as  was  his  lest. 
And  with  a  sad  visage  he  sykcd  stille. 
And   after   that   right  thus  he  seyde  his 

wille.  29S6 

'  The    tirste    moevere    of    the    cause 

above. 
Whan  he  (irst  made  the  faire  cheyne  of 

love. 
Greet  was  theffect,   and   heigh  was    his 

entente; 
Wei  wiste  he  why,  and  what  ther-of  he 

mente;  2990 

For  with   that  faire  cheyne  of  love   he 

bond 
The  fyr,  the  eyr,  the  water,  and  the  lond 
In  certeyn  boundes,  that  they  may  nat 

flee; 
That   same    prince    and    that    moevere,' 

quod  he, 
'  Hath  stablissed,  in  this  wrecched  world 

adoun,  2995 

Certeyne  dayes  and  duracioun 
To  al  that  is  engendred  in  this  place. 
Over  the  whiche  day  they  may  nat  pace, 
Al  mowe  they  yet  tho  dayes  wel  abregge ; 
Ther  needeth  non  auctoritee  allegge,  3000 
For  it  is  preved  by  experience, 
But  that  me  list  declaren  my  sentence. 
Than   may  men   by  this  ordre  wel  dis- 

cerne, 
That  thilke  moevere  stable  is  and  eterne. 
Wel  may  men  knowe,  but  it  be  a  fool,  3005 
That  every  part  dcryveth  from  his  hool. 
For  nature  hath  nat  take  his  beginning 
Of  no  partye  ne  cantel  of  a  thing. 
But  of  a  thing  that  parlit  is  and  stable. 
Descending  so,  til  it  be  corrumpal)le.  3010 
And  therfore,  of  his  wyse  purveyaunce. 
He  hath  so  wel  biset  his  ordinaunce. 
That  speces  of  thinges  and  progressiouns 
Shullen  enduren  by  successiouns, 
And  nat  eterne  be,  with-oute  lye:     3015 
This   maistow  understonde  and   seen   at 

ye. 
'  Lo  the  00k,  that  hath  so  long  a  nor- 

isshinge 
From  tyme  that  it  first  biginneth  springe, 
And  hath  so  long  a  lyf,  as  we  may  si-c, 
Yet  at  the  laste  wasted  is  the  tree.     3020 


504 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[3021-3097 


'Considereth  eek,  how  that  the  harde 

stoon 
Under  our  feet,  on  which  we  trede  and 

goon, 
Yit  wasteth  it,  as  it  lyth  by  the  weye. 
The  brode  river  sointyme  wexeth  dreye. 
The    grete    tounes    see    we   wane    and 

wende.  3025 

Than  may  ye  see  that  al  this  thing  hath 

ende. 
'Of  man  and  womman  seen   we  wel 

also. 
That  nedeth,  in  oon  of  thise  termes  two, 
This  is  to  seyn,  in  youthe  or  elles  age. 
He  moot  ben  deed,  the  king  as  shal  a 

page;  _  3030 

Som  in  his  bed,  som  in  the  depe  see, 
Som  in  the  large  feekl,  as  men  may  se; 
Ther   helpeth    noght,   al    goth    that   ilke 

weye. 
Thanne   may  I   seyn   that   al    this    thing 

moot  deye. 
What  maketh  this  but  lupiter  the  king? 
The  which  is  prince   and   cause   of  alle 

thing,  3036 

Converting  al  un-to  his  propre  welle. 
From  which  it  is  deryved,  sooth  to  telle. 
And  here-agayns  no  creature  on  lyve 
Of  no  degree  availleth  for  to  stryve.  3040 
'Thanne  is  it  wisdom,  as   it  thinketh 

me, 
To  maken  vertu  of  necessitee, 
And  take  it  wel,  that  we  may  nat  eschue. 
And  namely  that  to  us  alle  is  due. 
And  who-so  gruccheth  ought,  he  dooth 

folye,  3045 

And  rebel  is  to  him  that  al  may  gye. 
And  certeinly  a  man  hath  most  honour 
To  dyen  in  his  excellence  and  flour, 
Whan  he  is  sjker  of  his  gode  name  ; 
Than  hath  he  doon  his  freend,  ne  him, 

no  shame.  3050 

And  gladder  oghte  his  freend  ben  of  his 

deeth, 
Whan   with    honour    up-yolden    is    his 

breeth, 
Than  whan  his  name  apalled  is  for  age; 
For  al  forgeten  is  his  vasselage. 
Than  is  it  best,  as  for  a  worthy  fame,  3055 
To  dyen  whan  that  he  is  best  of  name. 
The  contrarie  of  al  this  is  wilfulnesse. 
Why  grucchen  we?  why  have  we  hevi- 

nesse. 


That  good  Arcite,  of  chivalrye  flour 
Departed  is,  with  duetee  and  honour,  3060 
Out  of  this  foule  grison  of  this  lyf  ? 
Why  grucchen   iieefTiis    cosin   and   his 

wyf 
Of  his  wel-fare  that  loved  hem  so  weel? 
Can  he  hem  thank?  nay,  God  wot,  never 

a  deel. 
That  bothe  his  soule  and  eek  hem-self 

offende,  3065 

And    yet    they    mowe    hir    lustes    nat 

amende. 
'  What  may  I  conclude  of  this  longe 

serie, 
But,  after  wo,  I  rede  us  to  be  merie, 
And  thanken  lupiter  of  al  his  grace? 
And,    er    that    we    departen    from    this 

place,  3070 

I  rede  that  we  make,  of  sorwes  two, 
O  parfyt  loye,  lasting  ever-mo; 
And  loketh    now,   wher  most   sorwe   is 

her-inne, 
Ther  wol  we  first  amenden  and  biginne. 
'  Suster,'  quod   he,    'this   is   my   fulle 

assent,  3075 

With  al  thavys  heer  of  my  parlement. 
That  gentil  Palamon,  your  owne  knight, 
That  serveth  yow  with  wille,  herte,  and 

might. 
And  ever   hath   doon,  sin  that   ye    first 

him  knewe. 
That  ye  shul,  of  your  grace,  up-on  him 

rewe,  3080 

And  taken  him  for  housbonde  and  for 

lord: 
Leen  me  your  hond,  for  this  is  our  acord. 
Lat  see  now  of  your  wommanly  pitee. 
He  is  a  kinges  brother  sone,  pardee;  3084 
And,  though  he  were  a  povre  bacheler. 
Sin  he  hath  served  yow  so  many  a  yeer. 
And  had  for  yow  so  greet  adversitee. 
It  moste  been  considered,  leveth  me; 
For  gentil  mercy  oghte  to  passen  right.' 
Than  seyde  he  thus   to   Palamon   ful 

right ;  3090 

'  I  trowe  ther  nedeth  litel  sermoning 
To  make  yow  assente  to  this  thing. 
Com   neer,    and   tak   your   lady   by   the 

hond.' 
Bitwixen  hem  was  maad  anon  the  bond, 
That  highte  matrimoine  or  mariage,  3095 
By  al  the  counseil  anrl  the  baronage. 
And  thus  with  alle  blisse  and  melodye 


309S-3I58.] 


A.    THE   MILLER'S   PROLOGUE. 


505 


Hath  Palamon  y-wedded  Emelye. 

And  C'lod,  that  al  this  wyde  world  hath 

wrught, 
Sende   him   his  love,  that   hathe  it  dere 

a-hoght.  3100 

For  now  is  Palamon  in  alle  wele, 
Living    in    blisse,    in    richesse,    and    in 

hele; 

Here  is  ended  (he  Knightes  Tale, 


And  Emelye  him  lovcth  so  tcndrely, 

And  he  hir  servcthal-so  gentilly, 

That    never    was    ther    no    word    hem 

bitwene  3'05 

Of  lelousye,  or  any  other  tene. 
Thus  endcth  Palamon  and  Emelye; 
And  God  save  al  this  fairc  companye  !  — 

Amen. 


THE   MILLER'S  PROLOGUE. 


Here  fohven  the  'wordes  hitwene  the  Host 
and  the  Millere. 

Whan  that  the  Knight  had  thus  his  tale 

y-told, 
In  al  the  route  nas  ther  yongneold  31 10 
That  he  ne  seyde  it  was  a  noble  storie, 
And  worthy  for  to  drawen  to  memorie  ; 
And  namely  the  gentils  everichoon. 
Our  Hoste  lough  and  swoor,  '  so  moot  I 

goon, 
This    gooth    aright;     unbokeled    is   the 

male;  ^115 

Lat  see  now  who  shal  telle  another  tale : 
For  trewely,  the  game  is  vvel  bigonne. 
Now  telleth   ye,   sir    Monk,   if    that   ye 

conne, 
Sumwhat,   to   quyte  with    the   Knightes 

tale.' 
The    Miller,    that    for-dronken    was    al 

pale,  3120 

.So  that  unnethe  up-on  his  hors  he  sat. 
He  nolde  avalen  neither  hood  ne  hat, 
Ne  ahyde  no  man  for  his  curteisye, 
But  in  Pilates  vols  he  gan  to  crye. 
And  swoor  by  amies  and  by  blood   and 

bones,  3125 

'  I  can  a  noble  tale  for  the  nones, 
With  which  I  wol  now  quyte  the  Knightes 

tale.' 
Our  Hoste  saugh  that  he  was  dronke 

of  ale. 
And    seyde :    '  abyd,    Robin,    my    leve 

brother, 
Som  bettre  man  shal  telle  us  first  another : 
Abyd,  and  lat  us  werken  thriftily.'     31 31 
'  l^y  goddes  soul,'  quod  he,  '  that  wol 

nat  I; 


For  I  wol  speke,  or  elles  go  my  wcy.' 
Our    Hoste  answerde :    '  tel  on,  a  devel 

wey ! 
Thou  art  a  fool,  thy  wit  is  overcome.'  3135 
'  Nowherkneth,'  quod  the  Miller,  'alle 

and  some  ! 
But  first  I  make  a  protestacioun 
That  I  am  dronke,   I   knowe   it  by  my 

soun; 
And    therfore,    if    that     I    misspeke    or 

seye, 
Wyte    it   the  ale  of  Southwerk,   I  yow 

preye;  3140 

For  I  wol  telle  a  legende  and  a  lyf 
Bothe  of  a  Carpenter,  and  of  his  wyf. 
How  that  a  clerk  hath  set  the  wrightes 

cappe.' 
The  Reve  answerde  and  seyde,  '  stint 

thy  clappe, 
Lat  be  thy  lewed  dronken  harlotrye.  3145 
It  is  a  sinne  and  eek  a  greet  folye 
To  apeiren  any  man,  or  him  diffame, 
And  eek  to  bringen  wyves  in  swich  fame. 
Thou   mayst    y-nogh    of  othere  thingcs 

seyn.' 
This    dronken    Miller    spak    ful   sone 

ageyn,  3150 

And  seyde,  '  leve  brother  Osewold, 
Who  hath  no  wyf,  he  is  no  cokewold. 
But    I   sey  nat    therfore    that   thou    art 

oon; 
Ther  been  ful  gode  wyves  many  oon. 
And  ever  a  thousand  gode  ayeyns  oon 

badde,  3155 

That  knowestow  wel  thy-self,  but-if  thou 

madde. 
Why  artow  angry  with  my  tale  now? 
I  have  a  wyf,  pardee,  as  well  as  thou, 


5o6 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[3159-3234- 


Yet  nolcle  I,  for  the  oxen  in  my  plogh, 
Taken  up-on  me  more  than  y-nogh,  3160 
As  clemen  of  my-self  that  I  were  oon; 
I  wol  beleve  wel  that  I  am  noon. 
An  housbond  shal  nat  been  inquisitif 
Of  goddcs  privetee,  nor  of  his  wyf. 
So  he  may  finde  goddes  foyson  there, 
Of  the  remenant  nedeth  nat  enquere.' 
What   sholde    I    more    seyn,    but   this 
Millere  3167 

He  nolde  his  wordes  for  no  man  forbere, 
But  tolde  his  cherles  tale  in  his  manere; 
Me  tliinketh  that  I  shal  reherce  it  here. 
And  ther-fore  every  gentil  wight  I  preye, 
For  goddes  love,  demeth  nat  that  I  seye 
Of  evel  entente,  but  that  I  moot  reherce 

Here  endeth 


Hir  tales  alle,  be  they  bettre  or  werse, 
Or  elles  falsen  som  of  my  matere.      3175 
And  therfore,  who-so  list  it  nat  y-here, 
Turne  over  the  leef,  and   chese  another 

tale; 
For    he    shal   finde   y-nowe,   grete  and 

smale, 
Of  storial  thing  that  toucheth  gentillesse. 
And  eek  moralitee  and  holinesse;      3180 
Blameth  nat  me  if  that  ye  chese  amis. 
The  Miller  is  a  cherl,  ye  knowe  wel  this; 
So  was  the  Reve,  and  othere  many  mo, 
And  harlotrye  they  tolden  bothe  two. 
Avyseth  yovv  and  putte  me  out  of  blame; 
And  eek  men  shal  nat  make  ernest  of 

game.  3186 

the  prologe. 


THE   MILLERES  TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Millere  his  (ale. 

Whylom  ther  was  dwellinge  atOxenford 
A  riche  gnof,  that  gestes  heeld  to  bord, 
And  of  his  craft  he  was  a  Carpenter. 
With   him   ther  was  dwellinge  a  povre 

scoler,  3190 

Had  lerned  art,  but  al  his  fantasye 
Was  turned  for  to  lerne  astrologye. 
And  coude  a  certeyn  of  conclusiouns 
To  demen  by  interrogaciouns. 
If  that  men  axed  him  in  certein  houres, 
Whan  that  men  sholde  have  droghte  or 

elles  shoures,  3196 

Or  if  men  axed  him  what  sholde  bifalle 
Of  every  thing,  I  may  nat  rekene  hem 

alle. 
This  clerk  was  cleped  hende  Nicholas; 
Of  dernelove  he  coude  and  of  solas;  3200 
And  ther-to  he  was  sleigh  and  ful  privee. 
And  lyk  a  mayden  meke  for  to  see. 
A  chambre  hadde  he  in  that  hostelrye 
AUone,  with-outen  any  companye, 
Ful  fetisly  y-dight  with  herbes  swote ;  3205 
And  he  him-self  as  swete  as  is  the  rote 
Of  licorys,  or  any  cetewale. 
His   Almageste    and    bokes   grete    and 

smale. 
His  astrelabie,  longinge  for  his  art. 
His  augrim-stones  layen  faire  a-part  3210 


On  shelves  couched  at  his  beddes  heed: 

His  presse  y-covered  with  a  falding  reed. 

And  al  above  ther  lay  a  gay  sautrye, 

On  which  he  made  a  nightes  melodye 

So  swetely,  that  al  the  chambre  rong; 

Kr\A  Angelus  advirginein  he  song;  3216 

And  after  that  he  song  the  kinges  note; 

Ful  often  blessed  was  his  mery  throte. 

And  thus  this  swete  clerk  his  tyme  spente 

After  his  freendes  finding  and  his  rente. 
This   Carpenter   had  wedded    newe  a 
wyf  3221 

W^hich  that  he  lovede  more  than  his  lyf; 

Of  eightetene  yeer  she  was  of  age. 

lalous  he  was,  and  heeld  hir   narwe   in 
cage, 

For  she  was  wilde  and  yong,  and  he  was 
old,  3225 

And  demed  him-self  ben  lyk  a  cokewold. 

He  knew   nat    Catoun,  for    his   wit    was 
rude. 

That  bad  man  sholde  wedde  his  simili- 
tude. 

Men  sholde  wedden  after  hir  estaat,  3229 

For  youthe  and  elde  is  often  at  debaat. 

But  sith  that  he  was  fallen  in  the  snare. 

He  moste  endure,  as  other  folk,  his  care. 
Fair    was    this    yonge   wyf,    and    ther- 
with-al 

As  any  wesele  hir  body  gent  and  smal. 


3235-33I3-] 


A.     THE    MILLKRKS   TALK. 


507 


A  ceynt  she  werede  barred  al  of  silk,  3235 
A   barmclooth    eek    as   whyt   as    murne 

milk 
Up-on  hir  lendes,  ful  of  many  a  gore. 
Whyt    was    hir    smuk,    and    broudcd    al 

bifore 
And  eek  bihinde,  on  hir  coler  al)oute, 
Of  col-blak  silk,  with-inne  and  eek  with- 

oute.  3240 

The  tapes  of  hir  whyte  voliiper 
\Vcrc  of  the  same  suyte  of  hir  coler; 
Hir  lilct  brood  of  silk,  and  set  ful  hye: 
And  siUerly  she  hadde  a  likerous  ye. 
Ful    smale    y-puUed    were    hir    brovves 

two,  3245 

And  tho  were  bent,  and  blake  as   any 

sloo. 
She  was  ful  more  blisful  on  to  see 
Than  is  the  newe  pere-ionette  tree; 
And  softer  than  the  wolle  is  of  a  wether. 
And  by  hir  girdel  heeng  a  purs  of  lether 
Tasseld  with   silk,  and  perled  with   la- 

toun.  3251 

In  al  this  world,  to  seken  up  and  doun, 
There   nis   no   man  so  wys,  that  coude 

thenche 
So  gay  a  popelote,  or  swich  a  wenche. 
Ful    brighter   was    the    shyning    of    hir 

hewe  3255 

Than   in   the    tour    the    noble   y-forged 

newe. 
But   of  hir   song,  it  was   as  loude  and 

yerne 
As  any  swalwe  sittinge  on  a  berne. 
Ther-to    she    coude    skippe    and    make 

game. 
As  any  kide  or  calf  folwinge  his  dame. 
Hir  mouth  was  svvete   as  bragot  or  the 

mecth,  3261 

Or  hord  of  apples  leyd  in  hey  or  heeth. 
Winsiiige  she  was,  as  is  a  loly  colt. 
Long  as  a  mast,  and  upright  as  a  bolt. 
A  brooch  she  baar  up-on  hir  lowe  coler. 
As  brood  as  is  the  bos  of  a  bocler.     3266 
Hir  shoes  were  laced  on  hir  legges  hye; 
She  was  a  prymerole,  a  pigges-nye 
For  any  lord  to  leggen  in  his  bedde, 
Or  yet  for  any  good  yeman  to  wedde.  ^2'jo 
Now  sire,  and  eft  sire,  so  bifel  the  cas. 
That  on  a  day  this  hende  Nicholas 
Fil    with    this   yonge    wyf    to   rage    and 

pleye, 
Whyl  that  hir  housbond  was  at  Oseneye, 


As    clerkes     ben    ful     subtile     and     ful 

queynte;  3275 

And    prively    he    caughte    hir    by    the 

queynte. 
And  seyde,  'y-wis,  but   if  ich  have  my 

wille. 
For  derne  love  of  thee,  lemman,  I  spillc.' 
And  heeld   hir  harde    by  the    haunche- 

bones. 
And  seyde,  'lemman,  love  me  al  at-ones. 
Or  I  wol  dyen,  also  god  me  save  ! '    3281 
And  she  sprong   as   a   colt   doth  in  the 

trave. 
And  with  hir  heed  she  wryed  faste  awey, 
And  seyde,  '  I  wol  nat  kisse  thee,  by  my 

fey,  3284 

Why,  lat  be,'  quod  she, '  lat  be,  Nicholas, 
Or  I  wol  crye  out  "  harrow  "  and  "  alias." 
Do  wey  your  handes  for  your  curteisye  !  ' 

This  Nicholas  gan  mercy  for  to  crye, 
And  spak  so   faire,  aiuT  profred    hir  so 

faste, 
That   she    hir   love    him    graunted    atte 

laste,  3290 

And  swoor  hir  ooth,  by  seint  Thomas  of 

Kent, 
That  she  wol  been  at  his  comandement. 
Whan  that  she  may  hir  leyser  wel  espye. 
'  Myn  housbond  is  so  ful  of  lalousye, 
That  but  ye  wayte  wel  and  been  privee, 
I  woot  right  wel  I  nam  but  deed,'  quod 

she.  3296 

'  Ye  moste  been  ful  derne,  as  in  this  cas.' 

'  Nay  ther-of  care  thee    noght,'  quod 

Nicholas,  , 

'  A  clerk  had  litherly  biset  his  whyle, 
But-if  he  coude  a  Carpenter  bigyle.'  3300 
And  thus  they  been  acorded  and  y-sworn 
To  wayte  a  tyme,  as  I  have  told  biforn. 
Whan  Nicholas  had  doon  thus  everydeel, 
And  thakked  hir  al)oute  the  lendes  wccl. 
He  kist  hir  swete,  and  taketh  his  sautryc. 
And  pleyeth  faste,  and  maketh  melodye. 
Than   fil   it   thus,  that   to    the    parish- 

chirche,  3307 

Cristes  owne  werkes  for  to  wirche, 
This  gode  wyf  wente  on  an  haliday; 
Hir  forheed  shoon  as  bright  as  any  day, 
So  was   it   wasshen   whan   she    leet    hir 

werk.  331 1 

Now  was  ther  of  that  chirche  a  parish- 
clerk. 
The  which  that  was  y-cleped  Absolon. 


5o8 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[33H-3393- 


Crul  was  his  heer,  and  as  the  gold  it 

shoon, 
And    strouted    as    a    fanne    large    and 

brode;  3315 

Ful  streight  and  even  lay  his  loly  shode. 
His  rode  was   reed,  his   eyen   greye  as 

goos; 
With    Powles    window    corven    on    his 

shoos, 
In  hoses  rede  he  wente  fetisly. 
Y-clad  he  was  ful  smal  and  proprely,  3320 
Al  in  a  kirtel  of  a  light  wachet; 
Ful  faire  and   thikke    been  the  poyntes 

set. 
And  ther-up-on  he  hadde  a  gay  surplys 
As  whyt  as  is  the  blosme  up-on  the  rys. 
A  mery  child  he  was,  so  god  me  save, 
Wei  coude  he  laten  blood  and  clippe  and 

shave,  3326 

And  make  a  chartre  of  lond  or  acquit- 

aunce. 
In  twenty  manere  coude  he  trippe  and 

daunce 
After  the  scole  of  Oxenforde  tho,       3329 
And  with  his  legges  casten  to  and  fro, 
And  pleyen  songes  on  a  small  rubible; 
Ther-to  he  song  som-tyme  a  loud  quin- 

ible; 
And  as  wel  coude  he  pleye  on  his  giterne. 
In  al  the  toun  nas  brewhous  ne  taverne 
That  he  ne  visited  with  his  solas,       3335 
Ther  any  gaylard  tappestere  was. 
But  sooth  to  seyn,  he  was  somdel  squay- 

mous 
Of  farting,  and  of  speche  daungerous. 

This  Absolon,  that  lolif  was  and  gay, 
Gooth  with  a  sencer  oiTfKe  haliday,  3340 
Sensinge  the  wyves  of  the  parish  faste; 
And  many  a  lovely  look  on  hem  he  caste, 
And  namely  on  this  carpenteres  wyf. 
To  loke  on  hir  him  thoughte  a  mery  lyf. 
She  was  so  propre  and  swete  and  like- 

rous.  3345 

I  dar  wel  seyn,  if  she  had  been  a  mous, 
And  he  a  cat,  he  wolde  hir  hente  anon. 

This  parish-clerk,  this  loly  Absolon, 
Hath  in  his  herte  swich  a  love-longinge, 
That  of  no  wyf  ne  took  he  noon  offringe; 
For  curteisye,  he  seyde,  he  wolde  noon. 
The  mone,  whan  it  was  night,  ful  brighte 

shoon,  3352 

And  Absolon  his  giterne  hath  y-take. 
For  paramours,  he  thoghte  for  to  wake. 


And  forth  he  gooth,  lolif  and  amorous. 
Til  he  cam  to  the  carpenteres  hous    3356 
A  litel  after  cokkes  hadde  y-crowe; 
And  dressed  him  up  by  a  shot-windowe 
That  was  up-on  the  carpenteres  wal. 
He  singcth  in  his  vols  gentil  and  smal, 
'  Now,  dere  lady,  if  thy  wille  be,        3361 
I  preye  yow  that  ye  wol  rewe  on  me,' 
Ful  wel  acordaunt  to  his  giterninge. 
This   carpenter   awook,  and   herde  him 

singe. 
And   spak    un-to    his    wyf,   and    seyde 

anon,  3365 

'  What !  Alison  !  herestow  nat  Absolon 
That   chaunteth  thus  under  our  boures 

wal?  ' 
And  she  answerde   hir   housbond   ther- 

with-al, 
'  Vis,  god  wot,  lohn,  I  here  it  every-del.' 
This  passeth  forth;    what  wol    ye   bet 

than  wel?  3370 

Fro  day  to  day  this  loly  Absolon 
So  woweth  hir,  that  him  is  wo  bigon. 
He  waketh  al  the  night  and  al  the  day; 
He  kempte  hise  lokkes  brode,  and  made 

him  gay; 
He  woweth  hir  by  menes  and  brocage, 
And    swoor    he    wolde    been    hir    owne 

page;  3376 

He  singeth,  brokkinge  as  a  nightingale; 
He  sente  hir  piment,  meeth,  and  spyced 

ale. 
And    wafres,   pyping    hote    out   of    the 

glede; 
And  for  she  was  of  toune,   he   profred 

mede.  33^0 

For  som  folk  wol  ben  wonnen   for  ricli- 

esse, 
And  som  for  strokes,  and  som  for  gentill- 

esse. 
.Somtyme,  to  shewe  his  lightnesse  and 

maistrye. 
He  pleyeth  Herodes  on  a  scaffold  hye. 
But  what  availleth  him  as  in  this  cas? 
She  loveth  so  this  hende  Nicholas,    3386 
That   Absolon   may    blowe   the    bukkes 

horn; 
He  ne  hadde  for  his  labour  but  a  scorn; 
And  thus  she  maketh  Absolon  hir  ape. 
And  al  his  ernest  turneth  til  a  lape.  3390 
Ful  sooth  is  this  proverbe,  it  is  no  lye. 
Men  seyn  right  thus,  '  alwey  the  nyeslye 
Maketh  the  ferre  leve  to  be  looth.' 


3394-3470-] 


A.    THE   MILLERES  TALE. 


509 


F"or    though   that   Absolon   be  wood   or 
wruoth,  3394 

By-cause  that  he  fer  was  from  hir  sighte, 
This  nye  Nicholas  stood  in  his  lighte. 
Now  here  thee  wel,  thou  hende  Nich- 
olas ! 
For     Absolon     may    waille     and    singe 

•  alias.' 
And  so  bifcl  it  on  a  Saterday, 
This  carpenter  was  goon  til  Osenay;  3400 
And  hende  Nicholas  and  Alisoun 
Acorded  been  to  this  conclusioun, 
That  Nicholas  shal  shapen  him  a  wyle 
This  sely  lalous  housbond  to  bigyle; 
And  if  so  be  the  game  wente  aright,  3405 
She  sholde  slepen  in  his  arm  al  night, 
For  this  was  his  desyr  and  hir  also. 
And  right  anon,  with-outen  vvordes  mo, 
This  Nicholas  no  lenger  wolde  tarie. 
But    doth   ful   softe    un-to  his   chambre 
carie  34 10 

Bothe   mete   and   drinke   for   a   day   or 

tweye, 
And  to  hir   housbonde   bad   hir   for   to 

seye, 
If  that  he  axed  after  Nicholas, 
She  sholde  seye  she  niste  where  he  was. 
Of  al  that  day  she  saugh  him   nat  with 

ye;  3415 

She  trowed  that  he  was  in  maladye. 
For,  for  no  cry,  hir  mayde  coude  him 

calle; 
He    nolde   answere,   for    no-thing    that 

niighte  falle. 
This  passeth  forth  al  thilke  Saterday, 
That  Nicholas  stille  in  his  chambre  lay. 
And  eet   and  sleep,    or  dide  what   him 

leste,  3421 

Til    Sonday,  that    the   Sonne   gooth    to 

reste. 
This   sely  carpenter  hath  greet   mer- 

veyle 
Of  Nicholas,  or  what  thing  mighte  him 

eyle, 
And  seyde,  'I  am  adrad, by seint Thomas, 
Itstandeth  nat  aright  with  Nicholas.  3426 
(iod  shilde  that  he  deyde  sodeynly ! 
This  world  is  now  ful  tikel,  sikerly; 
I  saugh  to-day  a  cors  y-born  to  chirche 
That  now,  on  Monday  last,  I  saugh  him 

wirche.  343^ 

Go    up,'    quod    he    un-to    his   knave 

anoon. 


'Clepe  at  his  dore,  or    knokke    with    a 

stoon, 
Loke  how  it  is,  and  tel  me  boldely.' 

This  knave  gooth  him  up  ful  sturdily. 
And  at  the  chambre-dore,  whyl  that  he 

stood,  3435 

He  cryde  and  knokked  as  that  he  were 

wood : — 
'  What !  how  !  what  do  ye,  maister  Nich- 

olay? 
How  may  ye  slepen  al  the  longe  day  ? ' 

But  al  for  noght,  he  herde  nat  a  word ; 
An  hole  he  fond,  ful  lowe  up-on  a  l)ord, 
Ther   as    the    cat   was   wont    in   for   to 

crepe;  3441 

And  at  that  hole  he  looked  in  ful  depe, 
And   at  the   laste    he    hadde    of  him  a 

sighte. 
This  Nicholas  sat  gaping  ever  up-righte, 
As  he  had  kyked  on  the  newe  mone.  3445 
Adoun  he  gooth,  and  tolde  his  maister 

sone 
In  what  array  he  saugh  this  ilke  man. 

This  carpenter  to  bleesen  him  bigan. 
And  seyde,  '  help  us,  seinte  Frideswyde  ! 
A  man  woot  litel  what  him  shal  bityde. 
This  man  is  falle,  with  his  astromye,  3451 
In  soni  woodnesse  or  in  som  agonye; 
I  thoghte  ay  wel  how  that  it  sholde  be ! 
Men  sholde  nat  knowe  of  goddes  prive- 

tee. 
Ye,  blessed  be  alwey  a  lewed  man,    3455 
That  noght  but  oonly  his  bileve  can  ! 
So  ferde  another  clerk  with  astromye; 
He  walked  in  the  feeldes  for  to  prye 
Up-on    the    sterres,    what   ther    sholde 

bifalle, 
Til  he  was  in  a  marle-pit  y-falle;       3460 
He  saugh  nat    that.     But  yet,  by  seint 

Thomas, 
Me  reweth  sore  of  hende  Nicholas. 
He  shal  be  rated  of  his  studying. 
If  that  I  may,  by  lesus,  hevene  king! 

Get  me  a  staf,  that  I  may  underspore, 
Whyl   that    thou,   Robin,  hevest   up  the 

dore.  3466 

He    shal    out    of    his    studying,    as    I 

gesse  '  — 
And    to   the  chambre-dore  he  gan  him 

dresse. 
His    knave    was   a   strong   carl   for   the 

nones. 
And  by  the  haspe  he  haf  it  up  atones; 


i 


^^0 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[3471-3534. 


In-to  the  floor  the  dore  fil  anon.         3471 
This  Nicholas  sat  ay  as  stille  as  stoon, 
And  ever  gaped  upward  in-to  the  eir. 
This   carpenter  wende    he  were  in   de- 

speir, 
And  hente  him  by  the   sholdres  might- 
ily. 3475 
And  shook  him  harde,  and  cryde  spit- 

ously, 
'  Wliat !  Nicholay  !  what,  how !  what  loke 

adoun  ! 
Awake,  and  thank  on  Cristes  passioun; 
I    crouche    thee    from    elves    and     fro 

wightes ! ' 
Ther-with  the  night-spel  seyde  he  anon- 

rightes  3480 

On  foure  halves  of  the  hous  aboute. 
And  on  the  threshfold  of  the  dore  with- 

oute :  — 
'  lesu  Crist,  and  seynt  Benedight, 
Blesse    this    hous    from    every    wikked 

wight, 
For  nightes  verye,  the  white  pater-7ios- 

ter!  3485 

Where  vventestow,  seynt  Petres  soster?' 

And  atte  laste  this  hende  Nicholas 
Gan  for  to  syke  sore,  and  seyde,  '  alias  ! 
Shal  al  the  world  be  lost  eftsones  now?  ' 
This  carpenter  answerde,  '  what  seys- 

tow?  3490 

What !  thenk  on  god,  as  we   don,  men 

that  swinlce.' 
This  Nicholas   answerde,  '  fecche   me 

drinke; 
And  after  wol  I  speke  in  privetee 
Of  certeyn  thing  that  toucheth  me  and 

thee; 
I  wol  telle  it  non  other  man,  certeyn.' 
This  carpenter  goth  doun,  and  comth 

ageyn,  3496 

And  broghte  of  mighty  ale  a  large  quart; 
And  whan  that  ech  of  hem  had  dronke 

his  part. 
This  Nicholas  his  dore  faste  shette, 
And    doun    the    carpenter    by    him    he 

sette  3500 

He   seyde,  '  lohn,   myn  hoste   lief  and 

dere. 
Thou  shalt  up-on  thy  trouthe  swere  me 

here. 
That  to  no  wight  thou  shalt  this  conseil 

wreye ; 
For  it  is  Cristes  conseil  that  I  seye, 


And  if  thou  telle  it  man,  thou  art  for- 

lore;  3505 

For  this  vengaunce  thou  shalt  han  ther- 

fore. 
That    if  thou  wreye   me,  thou  shalt  be 

wood ! ' 
'  Nay,   Crist    forbede    it,    for    his    holy 

blood !  ' 
Quod    tho   this   sely  man,    '  I    nam   no 

labbe, 
Ne,  though    I   seye,  I  nam   nat  lief  to 

gabbe.  3510 

Sey    what    thou    wolt,    I    shal    it    never 

telle 
To  child  ne  wyf,    by  him    that    harwed 

helle  ! ' 
'  Now    John,'    quod  Nicholas,  '  I  wol 

nat  lye; 
I  have  y-founde  in  myn  astrologye. 
As  I  have  loked  in  the  mone  bright. 
That    now,  a  Monday  next,   at   quarter- 
night,  3516 
Shal  falle  a  reyn  and  that  so  wilde  and 

wood, 
That  half  so  greet  was  never  Noes  flood. 
This  world,'  he  seyde,  '  in  lasse  than  in 

an  hour 
Shal    al    be    dreynt,  so    hidous    is    the 

shour;  3520 

Thus   shal  mankynde   drenche  and  lese 

hir  lyf.' 
This  carpenter  answerde,    '  alias,    my 

wyf! 
And    shal    she     drenche?     alias!    myn 

Alisoun ! ' 
For  sorwe  of  this  he  fil  almost  adoun. 
And  seyde,  '  is  ther  no  remedie  in  this 

cas?'  3525 

'  Why,  yis,  for  gode,'  quod  hende  Nich- 
olas, 
'  If  thou   wolt    werken    after    lore   and 

reed ; 
Thou  mayst  nat  werken  after  thyn  owene 

heed. 
For   thus   seith    Salomon,    that   was   ful 

trewe, 
"  Werk  al  by  conseil,  and  thou  shalt  nat 

rewe."  3530 

And  if  thou  werken  wolt  by  good  con 

seil, 
I  undertake,  with-outen  mast  and  seyl. 
Yet  shal  1  saven  hir  and  thee  and  me. 
Hastow  nat  herd  how  saved  was  Noe, 


3535-3604.] 


A.    THE   MILLERE3  TALE. 


S" 


Whan    that  our    lord    had    warned    him 

l)iforn  3535 

That  al  the  world  with  water  sholde  be 

lorn?' 
'  Yis,'  quod  this   carpenter,   '  ful  yore 

aj,'o.' 
'  Hastow    nat    herd,'   quod    Nicholas, 

'also 
The  sorvve  of  Noe  with  his  felawshipe, 
Er    that    he    mighte    gete  his    wyf    to 

shipe?  3540 

Him  had  be  lever,  I  dar  wel  undertake. 
At  thilke  tyme,  than  alle   hise  wetheres 

blake, 
That    she    hadde    had    a    ship    hir-self 

allone. 
And    ther-fore,  wostou  what  is  best    to 

done  ? 
This    asketh    haste,    and    of    an    hastif 

thing  3545 

Men  may  nat  preche  or  maken  tarying. 

Anon  go  gete  us  faste  in-to  this  in 
A  kneding-trogh,  or  elles  a  kimehn. 
For  ech   of  us,  but    loke   that   they  be 

large, 
In   whiche  we  mowe   swimme    as   in   a 

barge,  355° 

And  han  ther-inne  vitaille  suffisant 
But  for  a  day;   fy  on  the  remenant ! 
The  water  i:hal  aslake  and  goon  away 
Alioute  pryme  up-on  the  nexte  day. 
But    Robin  may    nat    wite   of  this,   thy 

knave,  3555 

Ne  eek  thy  mayde  Gille  I  may  nat  save; 
Axe  nat  why,  for  though  thou  aske  me, 
I  wol  nat  tellen  goddes  privetee. 
Suffiseth  thee,  but  if  thy  wittes  madde. 
To  han  as  greet  a  grace  as  Noe  hadde. 
Thy  wyf  shal  I  wel  saven,  out  of  doute. 
Go  now  thy  wey,  and  speed  thee   heer- 

aboute.  3562 

But  whan  thou  hast,  for  hir  and  thee 

and  me, 
Y-geten  us  thise  kneding-tubbes  three. 
Than  shaltow  hange  hem  in  the  roof  ful 

hye,  3565 

That  no  man  of  our  purveyaunce  spye. 
And  whan  thou  thus  hast  doon  as  I  have 

seyd. 
And  hast  our  vitaille  faire  in  hem  y-leyd, 
And  eek  an  ax,  to  smyte  the  corde  atwo 
When    that   the    water    comth,  that    we 

may  go,  3570 


And  broke  an  hole  an  heigh,  up-on  the 

gable. 
Unto  the  gardin-ward,  over  the  stable, 
That  we  may  frely  passcn  forth  our  way 
Whan    that    the    grete    shour    is   goon 

away  — 
Than   shaltow  swimme  as  myrie,  I  un- 
dertake, 3575 
As  doth  the  whyte  doke  after  hir  drake. 
Than  wol  I  clepe,  "  how  !   Alison  !   how  ! 

John! 
Be  myrie,  for  the  flood  wol  passe  anon." 
And    thou    vvolt    seyn,     "  liayl,    maister 

Nicholay ! 
Good  morwe,  I    se    thee  wel,   for    it    is 

day."  3580 

And  than  shul  we  be  lordes  al  our  lyf 
Of  al  the  world,  as  Noe  and  his  wyf. 

But  of  o  thyng  I  warne  thee  ful  right, 
Be  wel  avysed,  on  that  ilke  night 
That    we    ben      entred      in-to     shippes 

bord,  3585 

That  noon  of  us  ne  speke  nat  a  word, 
Ne   clepe,    ne    crye,    but    been    in    his 

preyere ; 
For  it  is  goddes  owne  heste  dere. 
Thy  wyf  and  thou  mote  hange  fer  a- 

tvvinne, 
For  that  bitwixe  yow  shal  be  no  sinne 
No    more    in  looking   than  ther  shal  in 

dede;  3591 

This    ordinance    is   seyd,   go,   god   thee 

spede ! 
Tomorwe  at  night,  whan  men  ben  alle 

aslepe, 
In-to  our  kneding-tubbes  wol  we  crepe. 
And  sitten  ther,  abyding  goddes  grace. 
Go    now    thy   wey,    I    have    no    lenger 

space  3596 

To  make  of  this  no  lenger  sermoning. 
Men  seyn  thus,  "  send  the  wyse,  and  sey 

no-thing  ;  " 
Thou   art    so    wys,    it    nedeth    thee    nat 

teche; 
Go,   save    our  lyf,  and  that    I    thee    bi- 

seche.'  3600 

This    sely    carpenter    goth    forth    his 

wey. 
P"ul   ofte    he   seith    '  alias '    and    '  weyl- 

awey,' 
And  to  his  wyf  he  tolde  his  privetee; 
And  she  was  war,  and  knew  it  bet  than 

he. 


512 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[3605-3683. 


What   al  this  queynte   cast   was   for   to 

seye.  3605 

But   nathelees   she   ferde  as   she   wolde 

deye, 
And   seyde,  '  alias !    go    forth    thy   wey 

anon, 
Help  us  to  scape,  or  we  ben  lost  echon; 
I  am  thy  trewe  verray  wedded  wyf; 
Go,   dere  spouse,  and  help  to  save  our 

lyf.'  3610 

Lo  !  which  a  greet  thyng  is  affeccioun  ! 
Men  may  dye  of  imaginacioun, 
So  depe  may  impressioun  be  take. 
This  sely  carpenter  biginneth  quake; 
Him    thinketh    verraily    that     he    may 

see  3616 

Noes  flood  come  walwing  as  the  see 
To  drenchen  Alisoun,  his  hony  dere. 
He  wepeth,  weyleth,  maketh  sory  chere, 
He  syketh  with  ful  many  a  sory  swogh. 
He  gooth  and   geteth   him   a  kneding- 

trogh,  3620 

And  after  that  a  tubbe  and  a  kimelin, 
And  prively  he  sente  hem  to  his  in. 
And  heng  hem  in  the  roof  in  privetee. 
His  owne  hand  he  made  laddres  three. 
To    climben     by    the    ronges    and    the 

stalkes  3625 

Un-to  the  tubbes  hanginge  in  the  balkes, 
And    hem    vitailled,    bothe    trogh    and 

tubbe, 
With  breed  and  chese,  and  good  ale  in  a 

lubbe, 
Suffysinge  right  y-nogh  as  for  a  day. 
But  er  that  he  had  maad  al  this  array. 
He  sente  his  knave,  and  eek  his  wenche 

also,  363 1 

Up-on  his  nede  to  London  for  to  go. 
And  on  the  Monday,  whan   it  drow   to 

night. 
He    shette   his    dore   with-oute  candel- 

light, 
And     dressed    al    thing    as    it     sholde 

be.  3635 

And  shortly,  up  they  clomben  alle  three; 
They  sitten  stille  wel  a  furlong-way. 
'  Now,     Pater-noster,     clom !  '     seyde 

Nicholay, 
And  '  clom,'  quod  John,  and '  clom,'  seyde 

Alisoun. 
This  carpenter  seyde  his  devociouri,  3640 
And  stille  he  sit,  and  biddeth  his  preyere, 
Awaytinge  on  the  reyn,  if  he  it  here. 


The  dede  sleep,  for  wery  bisinesse, 
Fil  on  this  carpenter  right,  as  I  gesse, 
Aboute  corfew-tyme,  or  litel  more;    3645 
For  travail  of  his  goost  he  groneth  sore, 
And  eft  he  routeth,  for  his  heed  mislay. 
Doun  of  the  laddre  stalketh  Nicholay, 
And  Alisoun,  ful  softe  adoun  she  spedde; 
With-outen    wordes    mo,    they    goon   to 
bedde  3650 

Ther-as  the  carpenter  is  wont  to  lye. 
Ther  was  the  revel  and  the  melodye; 
And  thus  lyth  Alison  and  Nicholas, 
In  bisinesse  of  mirthe  and  of  solas. 
Til    that    the    belle    of    laudes    gan    to 

ringe,  3655 

And  freres  in  the  chauncel  gonne  singe. 
This    parish-clerk,    this  amorous  Ab- 

solon. 
That  is  for  love  alwey  so  wo  bigon, 
Up-on  the  Monday  was  at  Oseneye 
With    companye,  him   to    disporte    and 

pleye,  3660 

And  axed  up-on  cas  a  cloisterer 
Ful  prively  after  I  oh  n  the  carpenter; 
And   he   drough    him  a-part  out  of  the 

chirche, 
And  seyde, '  I  noot,  I  saugh  him  here  nat 

wirche 
Sin     Saterday;     I     trow    that     he     be 

went  3665 

For  timber,    ther   our   abbot   hath    him 

sent; 
For  he  is  wont  for  timber  for  to  go. 
And  dwellen  at  the  grange  a  day  or  two; 
Or  elles  he  is  at  his  hous,  certeyn ; 
Wher    that    he    be,    I    can   nat   sothly 

seyn.'  3670 

This  Absolon  ful  loly  was  and  light. 
And    thoghte,   '  now   is    tyme    wake  al 

night; 
For  sikirly  I  saugh  him  nat  stiringe 
Aboute  his  dore  sin  day  bigan  to  springe. 
So  moot   I   thryve,   I    shal,   at    cokkes 

crowe,  3675 

Ful  prively  knokken  at  his  windowe 
That  slant  ful  lowe  up-on  his  boures  wal. 
To  Alison  now  wol  I  tellen  al 
My  love-longing,  for  yet  I  shal  nat  misse 
That    at    the     leste    wey    I     shal     hir 

kisse.  3680 

Som  maner  confort  shal  I  have,  parfay, 
My  mouth  hath  icched  al  thislonge  day; 
That  is  a  signe  of  kissing  atte  leste. 


3684-3754-] 


A.    THE   MILLERES  TALE. 


513 


Al  nifjht  me  mette  eek,  I  was  at  a  feste. 
Therfor    1    wol   gon  slepe  an    houre  or 

tweye,  36.S5 

And  al  the  night  than  wol   I  wake  antl 

pleye.' 
Whan  that  the  firste  cok  hath  crowe, 

anon 
Up  rist  this  loly  lover  Absolon, 
And  him  arrayeth  gay,  at  point-devys. 
But      first      he      cheweth     greyn     and 

lycorys,  3690 

To  smellen  swete,  er  he  had  kembd  his 

heer. 
Under  his  tonge  a  trewe  love  he  beer, 
For  ther-by  wende  he  to  ben  gracious. 
He  rometh  to  the  carpenteres  hous. 
And    stille   he    stant    under    the    shot- 

windowe;  3^95 

Un-to  his  brest  it  raughte,  it  was  so  lowe; 
And  softe  he  cogheth  with  a  semi-soun  — 
'  What  do  ye,  hony-comb,  swete  Alisoun  ? 
My  faire  brid,  my  swete  cinamome, 
Awaketh,  lemman  myn,  and  speketh  to 

me !  3700 

Wei  litel  thenken  ye  up-on  my  wo, 
That  for  your  love  I  swete  ther  I  go. 
No  wonder  is  thogh  that  1  swelte   and 

swete ; 
I  moorne  as  doth  a  lamb  after  the  tete. 
Y-wis,    lemman,  I     have     swich     love- 

longinge,  ''■''C 

That  lyk  a  turtel  trewe  is  my  ir^ominge- 
I  may  nat  ete  na  more  thar-^  mayde.' 
•Go  fro  the  window,  J-jli^g  fool,' 'she 

sayde, 
•As  help  me  god,  it.^oi  ^^^  ^^  «  ^om  l»a 

me,"  ' 

I    love    another^    ^nd    elles   I  were    to 

blame,  '?7lo 

Wei  bet  than.^j,ee^  ^y  lesu,  Absolon  ! 
Go  forth  thy  ■^^,Qy^  q^  I  wol  caste  a  ston. 
And  lat  me  ^Jepg^  ^  twenty  devel  wey !  ' 

'  Alias,   qijod  Absolon, '  and  weylawey  ! 
1  hat    trewe     j^yg    ^y^s     ever     so    yvel 

TK     't'".  3715 

1  nan  kissc  j^^^  gjn  jt  ^lay  be  no  bet, 
les-^g  jj^yg  jj^j)  fy^  ^Yie  love  of  me.' 
'  "  iltow  than  go  thy  wey  ther-with  ? ' 
^quod  she. 
'Ve,    certes,    lemman,'      quod      this 

Absolon. 
•Thanne  make  thee  redy,'  quod  she, 
'  I  come  anon;'  3720 


And  un-to  Nicholas  she  seyde  stille, 

'  Now  bust,  and  thou  shalt  laughen  al  thy 

fille.' 
This  Absolon  doun  sette   him  on  his 

knees. 
And  seyde,  '  I  am  a  lord  at  alle  degrees; 
For    after    this    I    hope     ther    cometh 

more !  3725 

Lemman,  thy  grace,  and  swete  brid,  thyn 

ore !  ' 
The  window  she  undoth,  and  that  in 

haste, 
'  Have  do,'  quod  she, '  com  of,  and  speed 

thee  faste, 
Lest  that  our  neighebores  thee  espye.' 
This  Absolon  gan  wype  his  mouth  ful 

drye;  3730 

Derk  was  the  night  as  pich,  or  as  the 

cole. 
And  at  the  window  out  she  putte  hir  hole, 
And  Absolon,  him  fil  no  bet  ne  wers. 
But  with  his  mouth  he  kiste  hir  naked  ers 
Ful  savourly,  er  he  was  war  of  this.     3735 
Abak  he  sterte,    and  thoghte  it  was 

amis. 
For  wel  he  wiste   a   womman    hath  no 

berd ; 
He  felte  a  thing  al  rough  and  long  y-herd. 
And  seyde,  '  f y  !  alias!  what  have  I  do?' 

window  to;  374° 

And  Absolon  goth  forth  a  sory  pas. 

'  A     berd,     a     berd !  '     quod     hende 

Nicholas, 
'  By  goddes  corpus,  this  goth  faire  and 

weel ! ' 
This  sely  Absolon  herde  every  deel. 
And    on   his    lippe    he    gan    for    anger 

byte;  3745 

And  to  him-self  he  seyde,  '  I   shal  thee 

quyte  !  ' 
Who  rubbeth   now,  who   froteth   now 

his  lippes 
With   dust,  with   sond,   with  straw,  with 

clooth,  with  chippes. 
But  Absolon,  that  seith  ful  ofte,  '  alias  ! 
My  soule  Ijitake  I  un-to  Sathanas,     3750 
But  me  wcr  lever  than  al  this  toun,'  quod 

he, 
'  Of  this  despyt  awroken  for  to  be  ! 
Alias!'    quod    he,    'alias!     I    ne    hadde 

y-bleynt !  ' 
His  hote  love  was  cold  and  al  y-c]ucynt; 


514 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[3755-3829. 


For  fro  that  tyme  that  he  had  kiste  hir 

ers,  3755 

Of  paramours  he  sette  nat  a  kers, 
For  he  was  heled  of  his  maladye; 
Ful  ofte  paramours  he  gan  deffye, 
And  weep  as  dooth  a  child  that  isy-bete. 
A     softe     paas     he     wente     over     the 

strete  37^0 

Un-til  a  smith  men  cleped  daun  Gerveys, 
That  in  his  forge  smithed  plough-harneys; 
He  sharpeth  shaar  and  culter  bisily. 
This  Absolon  knokketh  al  esily, 
And    seyde,  '  undo,  Gerveys,  and    that 

anon,'  37^5 

'What,    who     artow?'     'It     am    I, 

Absolon.' 
'  What  Absolon  !  for  Cristes  swete  tree, 
Why  ryse  ye  so  rathe,  ey,  benedicite  ! 
What  eyleth  yow?  som  gay  gerl,  god  it 

woot. 
Hath  broght  yow  thus   up-on   the    viri- 

toot;  3770 

By  seynt  Note,  ye  woot  wel  what  I  mene.' 

This  Absolon  ne  roghte  nat  a  bene 
Of  al  his  pley,  no  word  agayn  he  yaf ; 
He  hadde  more  tow  on  his  distaf 
Than  Gerveys  knew,  and  seyde,  '  freend 

so  dere,  3775 

That  hote  culter  in  the  chimenee  here, 
-As  lene  it  me.  I  Vi^v/>  t.tpr-with  to  done, 
And  I  wol  bringe  it  thee  agayn  ful  sonc. ' 
Gerveys    answerde,    '  certes,    were   it 

gold. 
Or  in  a  poke  nobles  alle  untold,         3780 
Thou   sholdest    have,   as    I    am    trewe 

smith; 
Ey,  Cristes  foo !  what  wol  ye   do  ther- 

with?' 
'  Ther-of,'    quod   Absolon,  '  be  as   be 

may; 
I  shal  wel  telle  it  thee  to-morwe  day' — 
And   caughte  the  culter    by   the    colde 

stele.  3785 

Ful  softe  out  at  the  dore  he  gan  to  stele. 
And  wente  un-to  the  carpenteres  wal. 
He  cogheth    first,   and    knokketh   ther- 

with-al 
Upon  the  windowe,  right  as  he  dide  er. 

This  Alison  answerde,  '  Who  is  ther 
That   knokketh    so?      I    warante    it    a 

theef.'  3791 

'  Why,  nay,'  quod  he,  '  god  woot,  my 

swete  leef,  ' 


I  am  thyn  Absolon,  my  dereling ! 

Of  gold,'  quod  he,  '  I  have  thee  broght  a 

ring;  3794 

My  moder  yaf  it  me,  so  god  me  save, 
Ful  fyn  it  is,  and  ther-to  wel  y-grave; 
This  wol  I  yeve  thee,  if  thou  me  kisse ! ' 

This  Nicholas  was  risen  for  to  pisse. 
And  thoghte  he  wolde  amenden  al  the 

lape. 
He  sholde  kisse  his  ers  er  that  he  scape. 
And  up  the  windowe  dide  he  hastily  3801 
And  out  his  ers  he  putteth  prively 
Over  the  buttok,  to  the  haunche-bon; 
And  ther-with  spak  this  clerk,  this  Abso- 
lon, 
'  Spek,  swete  brid,  I  noot  nat  wher  thou 

art.'  3805 

This  Nicholas  anon  leet  flee  a  fart. 
As  greet  as  it  had  been  a  thonder-dent, 
That   with   the   strook    he  was    almost 

y-blent; 
And  he  was  redy  with  his  iren  hoot. 
And  Nicholas  amidde  the  ers  he  smoot. 
Of    gooth   the   skin   an    hande-brede 

aboute,  381 1 

The  hote  culter  brende  so  his  toute. 
And  for  the  smert  he  vvende  for  to  dye. 
As  he  were  wood,  for  wo  he  gan  to  crye  — 
'  Help !  water !  water !  help,  for  goddes 

herte!'  3815 

This   carpenter    out    of    his    slomber 

stci-j^e. 
And  herde  non  cryen  '  water '  as  he  were 

wood. 
And  thoghte, '  A  Mas !  now  comth  Now- 
I       elis  flood ! ' 

He  sit  him  up  with-outen  wordes  mo. 
And  with  his  ax  he  siuoot  the  corde  a- 

two,  3820 

And  doun  goth  al;  he  fund  neither  to 

sella, 
Ne  breed  ne  ale,  til  he  cam  to  the  selle 
Upon  the  floor;    and  ther.  aswowne  he 

lay. 
Up  sterte  hir  Alison,  and  ;Nicholay, 
And  cryden  '  out '  and  '  harrwjw '  in  the 

strete.  3825 

The  neighebores,  bothe  smale  and^  grete. 
In  ronnen,  for  to  gauren  on  this  mi\n, 
That  yet  aswowne  he  lay,  bothe  pale  and 

wan  ; 
For  with  the  fal  he  brosten   hadde  hJs 

arm; 


■ 


3830-3899.] 


A.    THE   REEVE'S    PROLOGUE. 


5»S 


But    stonde   he   moste   un-to    his    owne 

harm.  3^3° 

For  whan   he  spak,  he  was   anon   bore 

duun 
With  hende  Nicholas  and  AHsoun. 
They  tolden  every  man  that  he  was  wood, 
He  was  agast  so  of '  Nowelis  flood  ' 
Thurgh  fantasye,  that  of  his  vanitee  3835 
He  hadde  y-boght  him  kneding-tubbes 

three, 
And    hadde    hem    hanged   in    the   roof 

above; 
And  that  he  preyed  hem,  for  goddes  love, 
To  sitlen  in  the  roof,  />ar  companye.  3839 

Tlie  folk  gan  laughan  at  his  fantasye; 
In-to  the  roof  they  kyken  and  they  gape. 

Here  endeth  the 


And  turned  al  his  harm  un-to  a  Tape. 
For  what  so  that  this  carpenter  answerde, 
It  was  for  noght,  no  man  his  reson  herde; 
With  othes  grete  he  was  so  sworn  adoun, 
That  he  was  holden  wood  in  al  the  toun; 
For   every  clerk    anon-right    heeld  with 

other.  3847 

They  seyde,  '  the  man  is  wood,  my  leve 

brother;  ' 
And  every  wight  gan  laughen  of  this  stryf. 
Thus  svvyved  was  the  carpenteres  wyf, 
For  al  his  keping  and  his  lalousyc  ; 
And  Absolon  hath  kist  hir  nether  ye; 
And  Nicholas  is  scalded  in  the  toute. 
This  tale  is  doon,  and  god   save  al  the 

route !  3854 

Millere  his  tale. 


THE    REEVE'S    PROLOGUE. 


The  prologe  of  the  Reves  tale. 

Whan  folk  had  laughen  at  this  nyce  cas 
Of  Absolon  and  hende  Nicholas,       3856 
Diverse  folk  diversely  they  seyde; 
But,  ft)r  the  more  part,  they  loughe  and 

pleyde, 
Ne   at  this  tale    I   saugh   no  man  him 

greve, 
But  it  were  only  Osewold  the  Reve,  3860 
By-cause  he  was  of  carpenteres  craft. 
A  litel  ire  is  in  his  herte  y-laft. 
He  gan  to  grucche  and  blamed  it  a  lyte. 
'  So  theek,'  quod  he,  '  ful  wel  coude  I 

yow  quyte 
With  blering  of  a  proud  milleres  ye,  3865 
If  that  me  liste  speke  of  ribaudye. 
But  ilc  am  old,  me  list  not  pley  for  age; 
Gras-tyme  is   doon,  my  fodder    is   now 

forage, 
This  whyte  top  wryteth  myne  olde  yeres, 
Myn  herte  is  al-so  mowled  as  myne  heres, 
But-if  I  fare  as  dooth  an  open-ers;    3871 
That  ilke  fruit  is  ever  leng  the  wers. 
Til  it  be  roten  in  mullok  or  in  stree. 
We  olde  men,  I  drede,  so  fare  we; 
Til  we  be  roten,  can  we  nat  be  rype ;    3S75 
We  hoppen  ay,  whyl  that  the  world  wol 

pype. 
For  in  oure  wil  ther  stiketh  ever  a  nayl. 


To  have  an  hoor  heed  and  a  grene  tayl. 
As  hath  a  leek;    for  thogh  our  might  be 

goon. 
Our  wil  desireth.  folic  ever  in  oon.     3880 
For  whan  we  may  nat  doon,  than  wol  we 

speke ; 
Yet  in  our  asshen  olde  is  fyr  y-reke. 
Foure  gledes  han  we,  whiche   I    shal 

devyse, 
Avaunting,  lying,  anger,  coveityse; 
Thise     foure     sparkles     longen     un-to 

elde.  3885 

Our  olde  lemes  mowe  wel  been  unwelde. 
But  wil  ne  shal  nat  faillen,  that  is  sooth. 
And  yet  ik  have  alwey  a  coltes  tooth, 
As  many  a  yeer  as  it  is  passed  henne 
Sin    that    my   tappe    of    lyf    bigan    to 

renne.  3890 

For  sikerly,  whan  I  was  bore,  anon 
Deeth  drogh  the  tappe  of  lyf  and  leet  it 

gon; 
And  ever  sith  hath  so  the  tappe  y-ronne. 
Til  that  almost  al  empty  is  the  tonne. 
The  streem  of  lyf  now  droppeth  on  the 

chimbe;  3895 

The  sely  tonge  may  wel  ringe  and  chimbe 

Of  wrecchednesse  that  passed  is  ful  yore; 

With  olde  folk,  save  dotage,  is  namore.' 

Whan  that  our  host  hadde  herd  this 

sermoning, 


5i6 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[3900-3964. 


He  gan  to  speke  as  lordly  as  a  king;  3900 
He    seide,    '  what    amounteth    al     this 

wit? 
What    shul   we    speke    alday    of    holy 

writ? 
The  devel  made  a  reve  for  to  preche, 
And  of  a  souter  a  shipman  or  a  leche. 
Sey   forth    thy  tale,   and   tarie   nat    the 

tyme,  39^5 

Lo,  Depeford  !  and  it  is  half-way  pryme. 
Lo,  Grenewich,  ther  many  a  shrewe  is 

inne; 
It  were  al  tyme  thy  tale  to  biginne.' 
'Now,  sires,'  quod  this  Osewold  the 

Reve, 


'  I    pray     yow    alle    that    ye    nat    yow 

grave,  3910 

Thogh   I  answere  and  somdel  sette  his 

howve; 
For  leveful  is  with  force  force  of-showve. 
This  dronke  millere  hath  y-told  us  heer. 
How  that  bigyled  was  a  carpenteer, 
Pera venture  in  scorn,  for  I  am  oon.  3915 
And,  by   your   leve,    I   shal   him   quyte 

anoon; 
Right  in  his  cherles  termes  wol  I  speke. 
I  pray  to  god  his  nekke  mote  brake; 
He  can  wel  in  myn  ye  seen  a  stalka. 
But    in   his   owne   he   can    nat    seen   a 

balke.  3920 


THE   REVES   TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Reves  tale. 

At  Trumpington,  nat  fer  fro  Cantebrigge, 
Ther  goth  a  brook  and  over  that  a  brigge, 
Up-on  the   whiche   brook    ther  stant   a 

melle;  fV\/U-'- 
And  this  is  verray  soth  that  I  yow  telle. 
A    Millar    was    ther    dwelling    many    a 

day;  3925 

As  any  pecok  he  was  proud  and  gay. 
Fypen  he  coude  and   fisshe,  and  nettes 

bete, 
And  turne  coppes,  and  wel  wrastle  and 

sheta; 
And  by  his  belt  he  baar  a  long  panada. 
And  of  a  swerd  ful  trenchant  was  the 

blade.  393° 

A  loly  popper  baar  he  in  his  pouche; 
Ther  was  no  man  for  peril  dorste  him 

touche. 
A  Sheffeld  th\Vitel  baar  he  in  his  hose; 
Round  was  his  face,  and  camuse  was  his 

nose. 
As  piled  as  an  ape  was  his  skulle.     3935 
He  was  a  market-beter  atte  fulle. 
Ther  dorste  no  wight  hand  up-on   him 

legge, 
That  he  ne  swoor  he  sholde  anon  abegge. 
A  theef  he  was  for  sothe  of  corn  and 

mela, 
And    that    a    sly,    and    usaunt    for    to 

stele.  3940 


His  name  was  hoten  deynous  Simkin. 
A  wyf  he  hadda,  y-coman  of  noble  kin ; 
The  person  of  the  toun  hir  fader  was. 
With  hir  he  yaf  ful  many  a  panne  of 

bras. 
For   that    Simkin   sholde   in   his   blood 

allye.  3945 

She  was  y-fostred  in  a  nonnarye; 
For  Simkin  wolde  no  wyf,  as  he  sayde. 
But   she    were    well    y-norissed    and   a 

mayde, 
To  saven  his  estaat  of  yomanrye. 
And  she  was  proud,  and  pert  as  is  a 

pye.  3950 

A  ful  fair  sighte  was  it  on  hem  two; 
On  haly-dayes  biforn  hir  wolde  he  go 
With  his  tipet  bounden  about  his  heed. 
And  she  cam  after  in  a  gyte  of  read; 
And     Simkin     hadde     hosen     of     the 

same.  3955 

Thar  dorste   no    wight    clepen   hir   but 

'  dame.' 
Was  noon  so  hardy  that  wente  by  the 

weye 
That  with  hir  dorste  rage  or  ones  pleye, 
But-if  ha  wolde  be  slayn  of  Simkin 
With   panade,  or  with  knyf,  or  boyde- 

kin.  3960 

For  lalous  folk  ben  perilous  evermo, 
Algate  they  wolda  hir  wyves  wenden  so. 
And  eek,  for  she  was  somdal  smoterlich,  < 
She  was  as  digne  as  water  in  a  dich;     .    • 


3965-4033-] 


A.    THE   REVES  TALE. 


517 


Ami  ful  of  hoker  and  of  bisemare.   3965 
Ilir  thoughte  that  a  lady  sholde  hir  soare, 
What  for  hir  kinrede  and  hir  nortclrye 
Tliat  she  had  lerned  in  tlie  nonnerye. 

A  doghter  hadiie  they  bitwixe  hem  two 
Of  twenty  yeer,  with-uuten  any  mo,  3970 
Savinge   a  child  that  was  of    half-yeer 

age; 
In  cradel  it  lay  and  was  a  propre  page. 
This  wenche  thikke  and  wel   y-growen 

was, 
With  camuse  nose  and  yen  greye  as  glas; 
With  buttokes  brode  and  brestes  rounde 

and  hye,  3975 

But  right  fair  was  hir  hear,  I  wol  nat  lye. 

The  person  of  the  toun,  for  she  was 

feir, 
^    In  purpos  was  to  maken  hir  his  heir 
Bothe  of  his  catel  and  his  messuage,  3979 
And  straunge  he  made  it  of  hir  mariage. 
His  purpos  was  for  to  bistowe  hir  hye 
In-to  som  worthy  blood  of  auncetrye  ; 
J"or  holy  chirches  good  moot  been  de- 

spended 
On  holy  chirches  blood,  that  is  descended. 
Therfore  he  wolde  his  holy  blood  hon- 

oure,  3985 

Though    that   he    holy  chirche    sholde 

devoure. 
Gret   soken   hath  this   miller,  out  of 

doute. 
With   whete   and   malt  of  al   the   land 

aboute ; 
And  nameliche  ther  was  a  greet  collegge, 
Men   clepen   the   Soler-halle   at   Cante- 

bregge,  3990 

Ther  was  hir  whete  and  eek  hir  malt 

y-grounde. 
And  on  a  day  it  happed,  in  a  stounde, 
Sik  lay  the  maunciple  on  a  maladye; 
Men  wenden  wisly  that  he  sholde  dye. 
F"or  which   this  miller  stal  bothe  mele 

and  corn  3995 

An  hundred  tyme  more  than  biforn; 
For  tlier-biforn  he  stal  but  curtcisly. 
But  now  he  was  a  theef  outrageously. 
For  which  the  wardeyn  chidde  and  made 

fare.  3999 

But  ther-of  sette  the  miller  nat  a  tare; 
He  craketh  boost,  and  swoor  it  was  nat 

so. 
Than  were  ther  yonge  povre  clerkes 

two, 


That  dwelten  in  this  halle,  of  which  I 

seye. 
Testif  they  were,  and  lusty  for  to  pleye, 
And,   only    for    hir    mirthe    and    revel- 
rye,  4005 
Up-on  the  wardeyn  bisily  they  crye, 
To  yeve  hem  leve  but  a  litel  stounde 
To   goon   to    mille   and    seen    hir   corn 

y-grounde; 
And  hardily,  they  dorste  leye  hir  nekke. 
The  miller  shold  nat  stele  hem  half  a 

pekke  4010 

Of   corn  by  sleightc,  ne    by  force  hem 

reve; 
And  at  the  laste  the  wardeyn  yaf   hem 

leve. 
lohn  hight  that  con,  and  Aleyn  hight 

that  other; 
Of  o  toun  were  they  born,  that  highte 

Strother, 
Fer    in    the    north,    I     can     nat    telle 

where.  4015 

This  Aleyn  maketh  redy  al  his  gere. 
And  on  an  hors  the  sak  he  caste  anon. 
Forth  goth   Aleyn   the   clerk,  and   also 

lohn, 
With  good  swerd  and  with  bokeler  by 

hir  syde. 
lohn    knew    the   wey,  hem   nedede    no 

gyde,  4020 

And    at    the   mille   the    sak    adoun   he 

layth. 
Aleyn  spak  first,   '  al   hayl,  Symond,   y- 

fayth; 
How   fares   thy   faire    doghter   and   thy 

wyf?' 
'  Aleyn  !   welcome,'  quod  Simkin,  '  by 

my  lyf. 
And  lohn  also,  how   now,  what   do   ye 

heer? '  4025 

'  Symond,'  quod  lohn,  '  by  god,  nede 

has  na  peer; 
Him  boes   serve  him-selve  that  has  na 

swayn. 
Or  elles  he  is  a  fool,  a^  clerkes  sayn. 
Our  manciple,  I  hopi  he  wil  be  deed, 
Swa     werkes     ay    the     wanges    in    his 

heed.  4030 

And  forthy  is  I  come,  and  eek  Alayn, 
To   grinde  our  corn   and  carie   it   ham 

agayn ; 
I   pray   yow   spede   us  hethen   that   ye 

may.' 


515 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[4034-4098. 


'  It  shal  be  doon,'  quod  Simkin,  '  by 

my  fay; 
What    wol   ye  doon  whyl   that   it   is  in 

hande?'  4035 

'  By  god,   right   by   the   hoper   wil   I 

stande,' 
Quod  lohn,  '  and  se  how  that  the  corn 

g^^'  in ; 
Vet  saugh  I  never,  by  my  fader  kin, 
How  that  the  hoper  wagges  til  and  fra.' 
Aleyn   answerde,   '  lohn,    and    wiltow 

swa,  4040 

Than  wil  I  be  bynethe,  by  my  croun. 
And  se  how  that  the  mele  falles  doun 
In-to  the  trough ;   that  sal  be  my  disport. 
For  lohn,  in  faith,  I  may  been  of  your 

sort; 
1  is  as  ille  a  miller  as  are  ye.'  4^45 

This  miller  smyled  of  hir  nycetee, 
And  thoghte,  '  al  this  nis  doon  but  for  a 

wyle; 
They  wene   that   no  man  may  hem  bi- 

gyle; 
But,  by  my  thrift,  yet  shal   I   blere   hir 

For  al  the  sleighte  in  hir  philosophye. 
The    more    queynte    crekes    that    they 

make,  4051 

The  more  wol  I  stele  whan  I  take. 
In   stede  of  flour,  yet  wol    I   yeve  hem 

bren. 
"The   gretteste  clerkes  been  noght  the 

wysest  men," 
As  whylom  to  the   wolf  thus  spak   the 

mare;  4055 

Of  al  liir  art  I  counte  noght  a  tare.' 

Out  at  the  dore  he  gooth  ful  prively, 
Whan  that  he  saugh  his  tyme,  softely; 
He    loketh    up   and   doun   til   he   hath 

founde 
The    clerkes   hors,   ther   as   it   stood   y- 

bounde  4060 

Bihinde  the  mille,  under  a  levesel; 
And  to  the  hors  he  gooth  him  faire  and 

wel; 
He  strepeth  of  the  brydel  right  anon. 
And  whan  the  hors  was  loos,  he  ginneth 

gon 
Toward  the  fen,  ther  wilde  mares  renne, 
Forth    with    wehee,    thurgh  thikke   and 

thurgh  thenne.  4066 

This  miller  gooth  agayn,  no  word  he 

seyde, 


But  dooth  his  note,  and  with  the  clerkes 

pleyde, 
Til    that    hir    corn   was   faire   and   wel 

y-grounde. 
And  whan  the  mele   is   sakked  and   y- 

bounde,  4070 

This  lohn  goth  out  and  fynt   his   hors 

away. 
And  gan  to  crye  '  harrow  '  and  '  weyla- 

way ! 
Our    hors    is   lorn !    Alayn,   for   goddes 

banes, 
Step  on  thy  feet,  com  out,   man,  al   at 

anes ! 
Alias,  our  wardeyn  has  his  palfrey  lorn.' 
This  Aleyn   al  forgat,   bothe    mele  and 

corn,  4076 

Al  was  out  of  his  mynde  his  housbond- 

rye. 
•What?  whilk  way  is  he  geen?'  he  gan 

to  crye. 
The  wyf  cam  leping  inward  with  a  ren. 
She  seyde,  '  alias !  your  hors  goth  to  the 

fen  4080 

With  wilde  mares,  as  faste  as  he  may  go. 
Unthank  come  on  his  hand  that   bond 

him  so. 
And  he  that  bettre  sholde  han  knit  the 

reyne.' 
'  Alias,'  quod  lohn,  '  Aleyn,  for  Cristes 

peyne. 
Lay   doun   thy   swerd,   and   I   wil   myn 

alswa ;  4085 

I  is  ful  wight,  god  waat,  as  is  a  raa; 
By  goddes   herte   he   sal   nat   scape   us 

bathe.  ^C- 

Why  nadstow  pit  the  capul  in  the  lathe?  ^ 
Il-hayl,  by  god,  Aleyn,  thou  is  a  fonne  ! ' 
This  sely  clerkes  han  ful  faste  y-ronne 
To-ward  the  fen,  bothe  Aleyn  and  eek 

lohn  4091 

And  whan  the  miller  saugh  that  they 

were  gon. 
He    half    a    busshel   of  hir   flour  hath 

take. 
And  bad  his  wyf  go  knede  it  in  a  cake. 
He   seyde,   '  I   trowe   the   clerkes   were 

aferd;  4095 

Yet  can  a  miller  make  a  clerkes  berd 
For  al  his  art;   now  lat  hem  goon  hir 

weye. 
Lo  wher  they  goon,  ye,  lat  the  children 

pleye; 


4099-4166.] 


A.     THE   REVES  TALE. 


5'9 


They   gete   him   nat   so   lightly,   by  my 

croun ! ' 
Thisc  sely  clerkes  rennen  up  and  doun 
With  '  keep,   keep,   stand,  stand,   lossa, 

warderere,  4101 

Ga  whistle  thou,  and    I   shal  kepe  him 

here  ! ' 
But  shortly,  til  that  it  was  verray  night, 
They  coude  nat,  though  they  do  al  hir 

might, 
Hir  capul  cacche,  he  ran  alwey  so  faste, 
Til   in   a   dich    they   caughte    him   atte 

laste.  4106 

\Yery  and  weet,  as  beste  is  in  the  reyn, 

ConitTi~sely  lohn,  and  with  him  comth 

Aleyn. 
•Alias,'  quod  lohn, 'the  day  that  I  was 

born ! 
Now  are  we   drive   til   hething  and   til 

scorn.  4110 

Our  corn  is  stole,  men  wil  us  foles  calle. 
Bathe  the  wardeyn  and  our  felawes  alle. 
And  namely  the  miller;   weylaway ! ' 
Thus  pleyneth  lohn  as  he  goth  by  the 

way 
Toward   the   mille,  and    Bayard   in   his 

bond.  4115 

The  miller  sitting  by  the  fyr  he  fond, 
For   it   was   night,   and   forther  mighte 

they  noght; 
But,  for  the  love  of  god,  they  him   bi- 

soght 
Of  herberwe  and  of  ese,  as  for  hir  peny. 
The   miller  seyde  agayn,  '  if  ther  be 

eny,  4120 

Swich  as  it   is,  yet   shal   ye   have  your 

part. 
Myn   hous  is  streit,  but  ye  han  lerned 

art; 
Ye  conne  by  argumentes  make  a  place 
A  myle  Iirood  of  twenty  foot  of  space. 
Lat  see  now  if  this  place  may  sufTyse, 
Or  make  it  roum  with  speche,  as  is  youre 

gyse.'  4126 

'  Now,  Symond,'  seyde  lohn,  '  by  seint 

Cutberd, 
Ay  is   thou  mery,  and  this  is  faire  an- 

swerd. 
I  have  herd  seyd,  man  sal  taa  of  twa 

thinges 
Slyk   as  he   fyndes,   or   taa  slyk   as  he 

bringes.  4 1 3° 

But  specially,  I  pray  thee,  hoste  dere, 


Get  us  som  mete  and  drinkc,  and  make 

us  chere. 
And  we  wil  paycn  trewely  atte  fulle. 
With  empty  hand  men  may  na   haukes 

tulle; 
Lo  here  our  silver,  redy  for  to  spcnde.' 
This    miller    in-to   toun    his    doghtcr 

sende  4'36 

For  ale    and  breed,  and  rosted   hem  a 

goos. 
And  bond  hir  hors,  it  sholde  nat  gon 

loos; 
And  in  his  owne  chambre  hem  made  a 

bed 
With   shetes  and  with   chalons  faire  y- 

spred,  4'4C> 

Noght  from  his  owne   bed  ten  foot  or 

twelve. 
His  doghter  hadde  a  bed,  al  by  hir-selve, 
Right  in  the  same  chambre,  by  and  by; 
It  mighte  be  no  bet,  and  cause  why, 
Ther   was  no   roumer   herberwe    in    the 

place.  4145 

They  soupen    and   they  speke,  hem  lo 

solace. 
And  drinken  ever  strong  ale  atte  beste. 
Aboute  midnight  wente  they  to  reste. 
Wei   hath   this   miller   vernisshed   his 

heed; 
Ful  pale  he   was   for-dronken,  and   nat 

reed.  4150 

He  yexeth,  and  he  speketh  thurgh  the 

nose 
As  he  were  on  the  quakke,  or  on  the 

pose. 
To  bedde  he  gooth,  and  with  him  goth 

his  wyf. 
As  any  lay  she  light  was  and  lolyf. 
So  was  hir  loly  whistle  wel  y-wet.     4155 
The  cradel  at  hir  beddes  feet  is  set. 
To   rokken,  and   to   yeve    the   child    to 

souke. 
And    whan  that  dronken  al  was  in  the 

crouke,  4158 

To  bedde  went  the  doghter  right  anon; 
To  bedde  gooth  Aleyn  and  also  John; 
Ther  nas  na  more,  hem  nedede  no  dwale. 
This  miller  hath  so  wisly  bidded  ale. 
That  as  an  hors  he  snorteth  in  his  sleep, 
Ne  of  his  tayl  bihinde  he  took  no  keep. 
His  wyf  bar  him  a  burdon,  a  ful  strong. 
Men  mighte   hir  routing  here   two  fur- 
long; 4166 


520 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[4167-4242. 


The  wenche  routeth  eek  par  companye. 

Aleyn  the  clerk,  that  herd  this  melodye, 
He  poked  lohn,  and  seyde,  'slepestow? 
Herdestow  ever  slyk  a  sang  er  now?  4170 
Lo,  vvhilk  a  compHne  is  y-mel  hem  alle  ! 
A  wilde  fyr  up-on  thair  bodyes  falle  ! 
Wha  herkened  ever  slyk  a  ferly  thing? 
Ye,  they  sal  have  the  flour  of  il  ending. 
This    lange    night    ther    tydes    me   na 

reste;  4175 

But  yet,  na  fors;   al  sal  be  for  the  beste. 
For  lohn,'  seyde   he,  '  als  ever  moot  I 

thryve, 
If  that  I  may,  yon  wenche  wil  I  swyve. 
Som  esement  has  lavve  y-shapen  us; 
For    lohn,   ther    is    a    lawe    that    says 

thus,  4180 

That  gif  a  man  in  a  point  be  y-greved, 
That  in  another  he  sal  be  releved. 
Our  corn  is  stoln,  shortly,  it  is  na  nay, 
And  we  han  had  an  il  fit  al  this  day. 
And  sin  I  sal  have  neen  amendement,  4185 
Agayn  my  los  I  wil  have  esement. 
By  goddes  saule,  it  sal  neen  other  be  ! ' 
This    lohn    answerde,   'Alayn,   avyse 

thee, 
The  miller  is  a  perilous  man,'  he  seyde, 
'  And    gif    that  he     out    of    his    sleep 

abreyde,  419O 

He  mighte  doon  us  bathe  a  vileinye.' 
Aleyn  answerde,  '  I  count   him  nat   a 

flye;  ' 
And  up  he  rist,  and  by  the  wenche  he 

crepte. 
This  wenche  lay  upright,  and  faste  slepte. 
Til    he    so     ny    was,    er    she     mighte 

espye,  4195 

That  it  had  been  to  late  for  to  crye, 
And  shortly  for  to  seyn,  they  were  at  on; 
Now   pley,  Aleyn!    for   I  wol  speke  of 

lohn. 
This  lohn  lyth  stille  a  furlong-wey  or 

two. 
And  to  him-self  he  maketh  routhe  and 

wo :  4200 

'  Alias  ! '  quod  he, '  this  is  a  wikked  Tape; 
Now  may  I  seyn  that  I  is  but  an  ape. 
Yet    has    my    felawe    som-what    for    his 

harm ; 
He  has  the  milleris  doghter  in  his  arm. 
He  auntred  him,  and  has  his  nedes  sped. 
And  I  lye  as  a  draf-sek  in  my  bed;    4206 
And  when  this  lape  is  tald  another  day, 


I  sal  been  halde  a  daf,  a  cokenay ! 

I  wil  aryse,  and  auntre  it,  by  my  fayth  ! 

"Unhardy      is      unsely,"       thus       men 

sayth.'  4210 

And  up  he  roos  and  softely  he  wente 
Un-to  the   cradel,    and   in   his   hand   it 

hente. 
And  baar  it  softe  un-to  his  beddes  feet. 

Sone  after  this  the  wyf  hir  routing  leet, 
And  gan   awake,  and  wente  hir  out  to 

pisse,  4215 

And    gam    agayn,   and    gan   hir   cradel 

misse, 
And  groped  heer  and  ther,  but  she  fond 

noon. 
'  Alias  !  '  quod  she,  '  I  hadde  almost  mis- 
goon; 
I  hadde  almost  gon  to  the  clerkes  bed. 
Ey,   henedicite !    thanne   hadde    I    foule 

y-sped : '  4220 

And  forth  she  gooth  til  she  the  cradel 

fond. 
She  gropeth  alwey  forther  with  hir  hond, 
And  fond   the  bed,  and  thoghte  noght 

but  good. 
By-cause  that  the  cradel  by  it  stood, 
And    niste   wher    she    was,    for   it   was 

derk;  4225 

But  faire  and  wel  she  creep  in  to  the 

clerk, 
And  lyth  ful  stille,  and  wolde  han  caught 

a  sleep. 
With-inne  a  whyl  this  lohn  the  clerk  up 

leep. 
And  on  this  gode  wyf  he  leyth  on  sore. 
So   mery   a    fit    ne   hadde    she    nat   ful 

yore;  4230 

He  priketh  harde  and  depe  as  he  were 

mad. 
This  loly  lyf  han  thise  two  clerkes  lad 
Til  that  the  thridde  cok  bigan  to  singe. 

Aleyn  wex  wery  in  the  daweninge, 
For    he    had    swonken    al     the    longe 

night;  4235 

And  seyde,  '  far  wel,  Malin,  swete  wight ! 
The  day  is  come,  I  may  no  lenger  byde; 
But  evermo,  wher  so  I  go  or  ryde, 
I  is  thyn  awen  clerk,  swa  have  I  seel !  ' 
'  Now   dere   lemman,'   quod   she,  '  go, 

far  weel !  424° 

But  er  thou  go,  o  thing  I  wol  thee  telle, 
Whan    that  thou  wendest  homward   by 

the  melle, 


4243-43 1 2-1 


A.    THE   REVES  TALE. 


521 


Right  at  the  entree  of  the  dore  bihinde, 
Thou  shalt  a  cake  of  half  a  busshel  finde 
That     was     y-niaked      of    thyn     owne 

mele,  4245 

Which  that  I  heelp  my  fader  for  to  stele. 
And,  gode  lemman,  god  thee  save  and 

kepe ! ' 
And  with  that  word  almost  she  gan  to 

wepe. 
Aleyn  up-rist,  and  thoughte,  '  er  that  it 

dawe, 
I  wol  go  crepen  in  by  my  felawe; '    4250 
And  fond  the  cradel  with  his  hand  anon, 
'  J^y  K'^f'/  thoghte  he,  '  al  wrang  I  have 

misgon ; 
Myn  heed  is  toty  of  my  swink  to-night, 
That  maketh  me  that  I  go  nat  aright. 
I    woot    wel    by    the    cradel,    I    have 

misgo,  4255 

Ileer  lyth  the  miller  and  his  wyf  also.' 
And  forth  he  goth,  a  twenty  devel  way, 
Un-to  the  bed  ther-as  the  miller  lay. 
He   wende    have   cropen   by  his  felawe 

lohn; 
And  by  the  miller  in  he  creep  anon,  4260 
And    caughte    hym   by   the    nekke,   and 

softe  he  spak  : 
He   seyde,    '  thou,    lohn,   thou    swynes- 

heed,  awak 
For  Cristes  saule,  and  heer  a  noble  game. 
For  by  that  lord  that  called  is  seint  lame, 
As  I  have  thryes,  in  this  shorte  night,  4265 
Swyved  the  milleres  doghter  bolt-upright, 
Whyl  thow  hast  as  a  coward  been  agast.' 
'Ye,    false   harlot,'    quod    the    miller, 

*hast? 
A  !  false  traitour  !  false  clerk  ! '  quod    he, 
'Thou   shalt    be   deed,   by   goddes  dig- 

nitee !  4270 

Who  dorste  be  so  bold  to  disparage 
My    doghter,    that    is    come    of    swich 

linage?'        ^^  .  „.  r-. .    ^^ 
And    by    the    tnrote-boiTe  'he    caughte 

Alayn. 
And  h?hente  hym  despitously  agayn, 
And  611  the  nose  he  smoot  him  with  his 

fest.  4275 

Doun    ran    the    blody   streem   up-on  his 

brest; 
And  in  the  floor,  with  nose  and  mouth 

to-broke. 
They   walvve   as  doon   two  pigges  in    a 

poke. 


And    up    they    goon,   and    doun    agayn 

anon. 
Til     that     the     miller     sporned     at     a 
stoon,  4280 

And  doun  he  fil  bakward  up-on  his  wyf, 
That  wiste  no-thing  of  this  nycc  stryf; 
For  she  was  falle  aslepe  a  lyte  wight 
With  lohn  the  clerk,  that  waked  hedde 

al  night. 
And  with   the  fal,  out  of  hir  sleep  she 
breyde  —  4285 

'Help,   holy  croys   of  Bromeholm,'  she 

seyde, 
In  mantis  (uas  !  lord,  to  thee  I  calle  ! 
Awak,  Symond  !   the  feend  is  on  us  falle, 
Myn   herte    is   broken,  help,  I    nam  but 

deed ; 
There  lyth  oon  up  my  wombe  and  up  myn 
heed;  4290 

Help,  Simkin,  for  the  false  clerkes  fightc.' 
This  lohn  sterte  up  as  faste  as  ever  he 
mighte. 
And  graspeth  by  the  walles  to  and  fro. 
To  finde  a  staf;    and  she  sterte  up  also. 
And  knew  the  estres  bet  than  dide  this 
lohn,  4295 

And  by  the  wal  a  staf  she  fond  anon, 
And  saugh  a  litel  shimering  of  a  light. 
For  at  an  hole  in  shoon  the  mone  jjright; 
And  by  that  light  she  saugh  hem  bothe 

two. 
But  sikerly  she  niste  who  was  who,  4300 
But  as  she  saugh  a  whyt  thing  in  hir  ye. 
And   whan   she    gan    the   whyte    thing 

espye. 
She  wende  the  clerk  hadde  wered  a  vol- 

upeer. 
And  with  the  staf  she  drough  ay  neer  and 

neer, 
And  wende  han  hit   this   Aleyn    at   the 
fulle,  4305 

And    smoot    the    miller    on    the    pyled 

skulle. 
That  doun  he  gooth  and  cryde,  '  harrow  ! 

I  dye ! ' 
Thise  clerkes  bete  him  weel  and  lete  him 

lye; 
And  greythen   hem,  and    toke    hir    hors 

anon, 
And  eek  hir  mele,  and  on  hir  wey  they 
gon.  4310 

And  at  the  mille  yet  they  toke  hir  cake 
Of  half  a  busshel  flour,  ful  wel  y-bake. 


522 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[4313-4364- 


Thus  is  the  proude  miller  wel  y-bete, 
And    hath    y-lost    the    grinding    of    the 

whete, 
And  payed  for  the  soper  every-deel  4315 
Of  Aleyn  and  of  lohn,  that   bette   him 

weel. 
Ilis  wyf  is  swyved,  and  his  doghter  als; 
Lo,  swich  it  is  a  miller  to  be  fals ! 


And  therfore   this   proverbe  is   seyd    ful 

sooth, 
'  Him    thar    nat    wene    wel    that    yvel 

dooth;  4320 

A  gyiour  shal  him-self  bigyled  be.' 
And  God,  that  sitteth  heighe  in  niagestee, 
Save  al  this  companye  gre te  and  smale ! 
Thus  have  I  quit  the  miller  in  my  tale. 


Here  is  ended  the  Reves  tale. 


THE    COOK'S    PROLOGUE. 


The  prologe  of  the  Cokes  Tale. 

The  Cook   of  London,   whyl    the    Reve 

spak,  4325 

For  loye,  him  thoughte,  he  clawed  him 

on  the  bak, 
'  Ha !    ha ! '    quod  he,  '  for  Cristes   pas- 

sioun, 
This  miller  hadde  a  sharp  conclusioun 
Upon  his  argument  of  herbergage ! 
Wel  seyde  Salomon  in  his  langage,   4330 
"  Ne  bringe  nat   every  man   in-to   thyn 

hous; " 
For  herberwing  by  nighte  is  perilous. 
Wel  oghte  a  man  avysed  for  to  be 
Whom  that  he  broghte  in-to  his  privetee. 
I  pray  to  god,  so  yeve  me  sorwe   and 

care,  -r ''"    ( ,  4335 

If  ever,  sith  I  hight^  Hogge  of  Ware, 
Herde  I  a  miller  bettre  y-set  a-werk. 
He  hadde  a  lape  of  malice  in  the  derk. 
But  god  forbede  that  we  stinten  here; 
And     therfore,    if    ye    vouche-sauf    to 

here  434° 

A  tale  of  me,  that  am  a  povre  man, 
I  wol  yow  telle  as  wel  as  ever  I  can 
A  litel  lape  that  til  in  our  citee.' 

Our    host    answerde,    and    seide,    '  I 

graunte  it  thee; 
Now  telle   on,    Roger,    loke    that   it   be 

good;  4345 


For  many  a  pastee  hastow  laten  blood, 
And  many  a  lakke  of  Dover  hastow  sold 
That   hath   been   twyes   hoot   and   twyes 

cold. 
Of  many  a  pilgrim  hastow  Cristes  curs. 
For    of  thy   persly    yet    they    fare    the 

wors,  4350 

That   they  han   eten   with   thy  stubbel- 

goos; 
For  in  thy  shoppe  is  many  a  flye  loos. 
Now  telle  on,  gentil  Roger,  by  thy  name. 
But  yet  I  pray  thee,  be  nat  wrooth  for 

game, 
A  man  may  seye  ful  sooth  in  game  and 

pJey.'  4355 

'Thou  seist    ful    sooth,'    quod    Roger, 

'  by  my  fey. 
But  "sooth    pley,  quaad   pley,"   as   the 

Fleming  seith; 
And  ther-fore,  Herry  Bailly,  by  thy  feith. 
Be   thou    nat   wrooth,   er   we   departen 

heer. 
Though    that   my   tale   be    of    an    hos- 

tileer.  4360 

But  nathelees  I  wol  nat  telle  it  yit. 
But  er  we   parte,   y-wis,    thou   shalt   be 

quit.' 
And    ther-with-al    he    lough    and    made 

chere. 
And   seyde    his   tale,    as   ye    shul    after 

here. 


'5^- 
^^/l 


Thus  endeth  the  Prologe  of  the  Cokes  tale. 


4365-4422.] 


A.    THE  COKES  TALE. 


523 


THE   COKES  TALE. 


Heer  bigynneth  the  Cokes  tale. 

A    PRENTis    whylom     dwelled     in     our 

citee,  43^5 

And  of  a  craft  of  vitaillers  was  he; 
Gaillard   he   was    as    goldfinch    in    the 

shawe, 
Broun  as  a  berie,  a  propre  short  felawe, 
With  lokkes  hlake,  y-kenipt  ful  fetisly. 
Dauncon  he  coude  so  wel  and  lolily,  4370 
That  he  was  cleped  Perkin  Revelour. 
He  was  as  ful  of  love  and  paramour 
As  is  the  hy ve  ful  of  hony  swete ; 
Wel  was  the  wenche  with  him  mighte 

mete. 
At    every   brydale   wolde    he    singe    and 

hoppe,  4375 

He  loved  bet  the  taverne  than  the  shoppe. 

For   whan    ther    any   ryding   was    in 

Chepe, 
Out  of  the  shoppe  thider  wolde  he  lepe. 
Til  that  he  hadde  al  the  sighte  y-seyn, 
And  daunced  wel,  he  wolde  nat  come 

ageyn.  43^° 

And  gadered  him  a  meinee  of  his  sort 
To  hoppe  and  singe,  and  maken  swich 

disport. 
And  ther  they  setten  steven  for  to  mete 
To  pleyen  at  the  dys  in  swich  a  strete. 
For  in  the  toune  nas  ther  no  prentys,  4385 
That  fairer  coude  caste  a  paire  of  dys 
Than  Perkin  coude,  and  ther-to  he  was 

free 
Of  his  dispense,  in  place  of  privetee. 
That  fond  his  maister  wel  in  his  chaffare; 
For   often   tyme   he   fond    his    box    ful 

bare.  439° 

For  sikerly  a  prentis  revelour, 
That  haunteth  dys,  riot,  or  paramour, 
His  maister  shal  it  in  his  shoppe  abye, 
Al  have  he  no  part  of  the  minstralcye; 

0/ this  Cokes  tale  maked  Chaucer  na  more. 

{For  The  Tale  of  Gamelin,  see  the  Appendix.] 


For  thefte    and    riot,  they  ben  conver- 
tible, 4395 
Al  conne  he  pleye  on  giterne  or  ribible. 
Revel  and  trouthe,  as  in  a  low  degree. 
They  been  ful  wrothe  al  day,  as  men  may 
see. 
This    loly    prentis    with    his  maister 
bood,  4399 
Til  he  were  ny  out  of  his  prentishood, 
Al  were  he  snibbed  bothe  erly  and  late, 
And  somtyme  lad    with   revel  to   New- 
gate; 
But  atte  laste  his  maister  him  bithoghte, 
Up-on  a  day,  whan  he  his  paper  soghte. 
Of  a  proverbe  that  seith  this  same  word, 
'  Wel  bet  is  roten  appel  out  of  hord  4406 
Than  that  it  rotie  al  the  remenaunt.' 
So  fareth  it  by  a  riotous  servaunt; 
It  is  wel  lasse  haim  to  lete  him  pace, 
Than  he  shende  alle  the  servants  in  the 
place.  4410 
Therfore  his  maister  yaf  him  acquitance. 
And   bad   him  go   with  sorwe  and   with 

meschance; 
And  thus  this    loly   prentis    hadde   his 

leve. 
Now  lat  him  riote  al  the  night  or  leve. 
And  for  ther  is  no  theef  with-oute  a 
louke,  4415 

That    helpeth    him    to    wasten    and   to 

souke 
Of  that  he  brybe  can  or  borwe  may. 
Anon  he  sente  his  bed  and  his  array 
Un-to  a  compeer  of  his  owne  sort. 
That  lovede  dys  and  revel  and  disport. 
And  hadde  a  wyf  that  heeld  for  counte- 
nance 4421 
A  shoppe,   and  swyved  for   hir  susten- 
ance. 


I 


524 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1-67. 


GROUP  B. 
INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  MAN  OF  LAW'S  PROLOGUE. 


The  wordes  of  the  Hoost  to  the  companye. 

Our     Hoste   sey   wel  that    the   brighte 

Sonne 
The  ark  of  his  artificial  day  had  ronne 
The  fourthe  part,  and  half  an  houre,  and 

more; 
And  though  he  were  not  depe  expert  in 

lore, 
He  wiste  it  was  the  eightetethe  day        5 
Of  April,  that  is  messager  to  May; 
And  sey  wel  that  the  shadwe  of  every 

tree 
Was  as  in  lengthe  the  same  quantitee 
That  was  the  body  erect  that  caused  it. 
And  therfor  by  the  shadwe  he  took  his 

wit  10 

That  Phebus,  which  that  shoon  so  clere 

and  brighte. 
Degrees  was  fyve  and  fourty  clombe  on 

highte; 
And  for  that  day,  as  in  that  latitude. 
It  was  ten  of  the  clokke,  he  gan  con- 
clude, 
And  sodeynly  he  plighte  his  hors  aboute. 
'  Lordinges,'  quod  he,  '  I  warne  yow,  al 

this  route,  16 

The  fourthe  party  of  this  day  is  goon; 
Now,  for  the   love  of  god  and   of  seint 

lohn, 
Leseth  no  tyme,  as  ferforth  as  ye  may; 
Lordinges,  the   tyme  wasteth   night  and 

day,  20 

And  steleth  from  us,  what  prively  slep- 

inge. 
And  what  thurgh  necligence  in  our  wak- 

inge. 
As  dooth  the  streem,  that  turneth  never 

agayn. 
Descending     fro    the     montaigne     in-to 

playn.  24 

Wel  can  Senek,  and  many  a  philosophre 
Biwailen  tyme,  more  than  gold  in  cofre. 
"  For  los  of  catel  may  recovered  be. 
But  los  of  tyme  shendeth  us,"  quod  he. 
It  wol  nat  come  agayn,  vvith-outen  drede, 
Na    more    than    wol   Malkins   mayden- 

hede,  30 


Whan  she  hath  lost  it  in  hir  wantow- 

nesse; 
Lat  us  nat  moulen  thus  in  ydelnesse. 
'  Sir  man  of  lawe,'  quod  he,  '  so  have  ye 

blis, 
Tel  us  a  tale  anon,  as  forward  is; 
Ye    been    submitted   thurgh    your    free 

assent  35 

To  stonde  in  this  cas  at  my  lugement. 
Acquiteth  yow,  and  holdeth  your  l^iheste. 
Than  have  ye    doon    your    devoir    atte 

leste.' 
'  Hoste,'   quod    he,    '  depardieux    ich 

assente. 
To  breke  forward  is  not  myn  entente.  40 
Biheste  is  dette,  and  I  wol  holde  fayn 
Al  my  biheste;    I  can  no  better  seyn. 
For  swich  lawe  as  man  yeveth  another 

wight. 
He  sholde  him-selven  usen  it  by  right; 
Thus  wol  our  text;    but    natheles    cer- 

teyn  45 

I  can  right  now  no  thrifty  tale  seyn, 
But  Chaucer,  though  he  can  but  lewedly 
On  metres  and  on  ryming  craftily, 
Hath  seyd  hem  in  swich  English  as  he 

can  49 

Of  olde  tyme,  as  knoweth  many  a  man. 
And    if    he    have    not    seyd    hem,  leve 

brother. 
In  o  book,  he  hath  seyd  hem  in  another. 
For  he  hath  told  of  loveres  up  and  doun 
Mo  than  Ovyde  made  of  mencioun 
In  his  Epistelles,  that  been  ful  olde.      55 
What  sholde  I  tellen  hem,  sin  they  ben 

tolde  ? 
In  youthe  he  made  of  Ceys  and  Alcion,"    - 
And  sithen  hath  he  spoke  of  everichon, 
Thise  noble  wyves  and  thise  loveres  eke. 
Who-so  that  wol  his  large  volume  seke      *, 
Cleped  the  Seintes  Legende  of  Cupyde,   ;' 
Ther   may   he  seen    the    large    woundes 

wyde  62 

Of  Lucresse,  and  of  Babilan  Tisbee; 
The  swerd  of  Dido  for  the  false  Enee; 
The  tree  of  Phillis  for  hir  Demophon;  65 
The  pleinte  of  Dianire  and  Hermion, 
Of  Adriane  and  of  Isiphilee; 


,V^' 


68-I33-]         B.     PROLOCUE  OF  THE   MANNES  TALE  OF   LAWE.         525 


The  bareyne  yle  stoiKlinfj  in  the  see; 
The  (Ireynte  I.eander  for  his  Krro; 
The  teres  of  Eleyne,  and  eek  the  wo     70 
Of  Brixseyde,  ami  of  thee,  Ladoniea; 
The  crueltee  of  thee,  queen  Medea, 
Thy  htel  chihlren  hanging  by  the  hals 
For    thy    lason,   that    was    of    love    so 

fals! 
O  Ypermistra,  Penelopee,  Alceste,         75 
Your    wyfhod    he   comendeth    with  the 
beste ! 
But  certeinly  no  word  ne  wryteth  he 
Of  thilke  wiUke  ensample  of  Canacee, 
That  lovede  hir  owne  brother  sinfully; 
Of  swiche  cursed  stories  I  sey  *  fy  ';       80 
Or  elles  of  Tyro  Apollonius, 
How  that  the  cursed  king  Antiochus 
Birafte  his  doghter  of  hir  maydenhede, 
That  is  so  horrible  a  tale  for  to  rede, 


Whan  he  hir  threw  up-on  the  pavement. 
And  thcrfor  he,  of  ful  avysement,  86 

Nolde   never   wryte   in   none  of  his  ser- 

mouns 
Of  swiche  unkinde  abhominaciouns, 
Ne  1  wol  noon  reherse,  if  that  I  may. 
But  of  my  tale   how  shal   I   doon  this 

day  ?  90 

Me  were  looth  be  lykned,  doutelees, 
To  Muses  that  men  clepe  Pierides  — 
Melatnorphoseos  wot  what  I  mene  :  — 
But  nathelees,  I  recche  noght  a  bene 
Though  I  come  after  him    with    hawe- 

bake;  95 

I   speke  in   prose,    and   lat    him   rymes 

make.' 
And  with  that  word  he,    with  a  sobre 

chere, 
Bigan  his  tale,  as  ye  shal  after  here. 


THE   PROLOGE   OF  THE   MANNES  TALE   OF   LAWE. 


O  HATEFi'i.  harm  !  condicion  of  poverte  ! 

With  thurst,  with  cold,  with  hunger  so 
confounded !  100 

To  asken  help  thee  shameth  in  thyn 
herte; 

If  thou  noon  aske,  with  nede  artow  so 
wounded, 

That  verray  nede  unvvrappeth  al  thy 
wounde  hid  ! 

Maugree  thyn  heed,  thou  most  for  indi- 
gence 

Or  stele,  or  begge,  or  borwe  thy  de- 
spence !  105 

Thou  blamest  Crist,  and  seyst  ful  bit- 
terly, 

He  misdeparteth  richesse  temporal  ; 

Thy  neighebour  thou  wytest  sinfully. 

And  seyst  thou  hast  to  lyte,  and  he  hath 
al. 

'  Parfay,'  seistow,  '  somtyme  he  rekne 
slial,  1 10 

Whan  that  his  tayl  shal  brennen  in  the 
glede, 

For  he  noght  helpeth  needfulle  in  hir 
nede.' 

Herkne  what  is  the  sentence  of  the 
wyse :  — 


'  Bet  is  to  dyen  than  have  indigence  ; ' 
'  Thy    selve    neighebour    wol    thee    de- 

spyse  ;  '  115 

If  thou  be  povre,  farwel  thy  reverence  ! 
Yet  of  the  wyse  man  tak  this  sentence  :  — 
'  Alle  the  dayes  of  povre  men  ben  wikke  ; ' 
Be   war   therfor,   er   thou  come  in  that 

prikke  ! 

'  If  thou  be  povre,  thy  brother  hateth 
thee,  120 

And  alle  thy  freendes  fleen  fro  thee, 
alas ! ' 

O  riche  marchaunts,  ful  of  wele  ben  ye, 

0  noble,  o  prudent  folk,  as  in  this  cas ! 
Your  bagges  been  nat  lilled  with  ambes  as. 
But  with  sis  ciiik,  than  renneth  fur  your 

chaunce  ;  125 

At  Cristemasse  merie  may  ye  daunce  ! 

Ye  seken  lond  and  see  for  your  winninges. 
As  wyse  folk  ye  knowen  al  thcstaat 
Of  regnes  ;    ye  ben  fadres  of  tydinges 
And  talcs,  bothe  of  pees  and  of  debat. 

1  were  right  now  of  tales  desolat,         131 
Nere  that  a  marchaunt,  goon  is  many  a 

yere. 
Me  taughte  a  tale,  which   that  ye  shal 
here. 


526 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[134-194. 


THE  TALE  OF  THE  MAN  OF  LAWE. 


Here  beginneth  the  Man  of  Lawe  his 
Tale. 

In  Surrie  vvhylom  dwelte  a  companye 
(){  chapmen  riche,  and  therto  sadde  and 

trewe,  135 

That  vvyde-wher  senten  her  spycerye, 
(.'lothes  of  gold,  and  satins  riche  of  hewe  ; 
Her  chaffar  was  so  thrifty  and  so  newe, 
That  every  wight  hath  deyntee  to  chaf- 

fare 
With   hem,  and  eek  to  sellen  hem  hir 

ware.  140 

Now  fel  it,  that  the  maistres  of  that  sort 
Han  shapen  hem  to  Rome  for  to  wende  ; 
Were  it  for  chapmanhode  or  for  disport, 
Non    other   message   wolde    they  thider 

sende, 
But  comen  hem-self  to  Rome,  this  is  the 

ende  ;  145 

And  in  swich    place,  as   thoughte   hem 

avantage 
For  her  entente,  they  take  her  herber- 

gage. 

Soiourned  ban  thise  marchants  in  that 

toun 
A  certein  tyme,  as  fel  to  hir  plesance. 
And  so  bifel,  that  thexcellent  renoun  150 
Of   themperoures    doghter,    dame    Cus- 

tance. 
Reported  was,  with  every  circumstance, 
Un-to  thise  Surrien  marchants  in  swich 

wyse, 
Ero  day  to  day,  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 

This   was   the   commune   vois   of  every 
man —  155 

'  Our  Emperour  of  Rome,  god  bim  see, 
A  doghter  hath  that,  sin  the  world  bigan. 
To  rekne  as  wel  hir  goodnesse  as  beautee, 
Nas  never  swich  another  as  is  she  ; 
I  prey  to  god  in  honour  hir  sustene,  160 
And  wolde  she  were  of  al  Europe  the 
quene. 

In  hir  is  heigh  beautee,  with-oute  pryde, 
Yowthe,  with-oute  grenehede  or  folye  ; 


To  alle  hir  werkes  vertu  is  hir  gyde, 
Humblesse  hath  slayn  in  hir  al  tirannye. 
She  is  mirour  of  alle  curteisye  ;  166 

Hir   herte   is   verray   chambre   of    holi- 

nesse, 
Hir  hand,  ministre  of  fredom  for  almesse.' 

And  al  this   vois   was   soth,   as   god    is 

trewe, 
But  now  to  purpos  lat  us  turne  agayn  ; 
Thise   marchants  ban  doon  fraught   hir 

shippes  newe,  171 

And,  whan  they  ban  this  blisful  mayden 

seyn, 
Hoom  to  Surrye  been  they  went  ful  fayn, 
And  doon  her  nedes  as  they  ban  don 

yore. 
And  liven  in  wele  ;   I  can  sey  yow  no 

more.  175 

Now  fel  it,  that  thise  marchants  stode  in 

grace 
Of  him,  that  was  the  sowdan  of  Surrye  ; 
For  whan  they  came  from  any  strange 

place. 
He  wolde,  of  his  benigne  curteisye. 
Make  hem  good  chere,  and  bisily  espye 
Tydings  of  sondry  regnes,  for  to  lere  181 
The  wondres  that   they  mighte  seen  or 

here. 

Amonges  othere  thinges,  specially 
Thise  marchants  ban  bim  told  of  dame 

Custance, 
So  gret  noblesse  in  ernest,  ceriously,  185 
That   this   sowdan  hath  caught  so  gret 

plesance 
To  han  hir  figure  in  his  remembrance. 
That  al  bis  lust  and  al  his  bisy  cure 
Was  for  to  love  hir  whyl  bis  lyf  may  dure. 

Paraventure  in  tbilke  large  book         190 
Which  that  men  clepe  the  beven,  y-writen 

was 
With  sterres,  whan   that   be   bis   birthe 

took. 
That  he  for  love  sbulde  han  his  deeth, 

alias ! 
For  in  the  sterres,  clerer  than  is  glas, 


195-269.] 


B.     TALE   OF  THE   MAN  OF   LAWE. 


527 


Is    writen,   god  wot,    who-so    coude   it 

rede,  195 

The  deeth  of  every  man,  withouten 
drede. 

In  sterres,  many  a  winter  ther-biforn, 
Was  writen  the  deeth  of  Ector,  Achilles, 
Of  Pompey,  lulius,  er  they  were  born  ; 
The  stryf  of  Thebes  ;   and  of  Ercules,  200 
Of  Sampson,  Turnus,  and  of  Socrates 
The  deeth  ;   but  mennes  wittes  been  so 

duUe, 
That  no  wight  can  wel  rede  it  atte  fulle. 

This  sowdan  for  his  privee  conseil  sente. 
And,  shortly  of  this  mater  for  to  pace, 
He  hath  to  hem  declared  his  entente,  206 
And  seyile  hem  certein,  '  but  he  mighte 

have  grace 
To  han  Custance  with-inne  a  litel  space, 
He  nas  but  deed;'  and  charged  hem,  in 

hye, 
To  shapen  for  his  lyf  som  remedye.     210 

Diverse  men  diverse  thinges  seyden  ; 
They  argumenten,  casten  up  and  doun  ; 
Many  a  subtil  resoun  forth  they  leyden, 
They  spelcen  of  magik  and  abusioun  ; 
But  finally,  as  in  conclusioun,  215 

They  can  not  seen  in  that  non  avantage, 
Ne  in  non  other  wey,  save  mariage. 

Than  sawe  they  ther-in  swich  difficultee 
By  wey  of  resoun,  for  to  speke  al  playn 
By-cause  that  ther  was  swich  diversitee 
Bitwene  hir  bothe  lavves,  that  they  sayn. 
They  trowe  '  that  no  Cristen  prince  wolde 

fayn  222 

Wedden  his  child  under  cure  lawes  swete 
That   us   were    taught    by    Mahoun   our 

prophete.' 

And  he  answerde, '  rather  than  I  lese  225 
Custance,  I  wol  be  cristned  doutelees  ; 
I  mot  ben  hires,  I  may  non  other  chese. 
I  prey  yow  hokle  your  arguments  in  pees; 
Saveth  my  lyf,  and  beeth  noght  recche- 
lees  229 

To  geten  hir  that  hath  my  lyf  in  cure  ; 
For  in  this  wo  I  may  not  longe  endure.' 

What  nedeth  gretter  dilatacioun? 
I  seye,  by  tretis  and  embassadrye, 


And  by  the  popes  mediacioun, 
And    al    the    chirche,   and    al    the   chiv- 
alrye,  235 

That,  in  destruccioun  of  Maumetrye, 
And  in  encrees  of  Cristes  lawe  dere, 
They  ben  acorded,  so  as  ye  shal  here; 

How  that  the  sowdan  and  his  baronage 
And    alle    his    liges    shulde    y-cristned 

be,  240 

And  he  shal  han  Custance  in  mariage, 
And  certein  gold,  I  noot  what  quantitcc. 
And  her-to  founden  suflisant  seurtee; 
This    same  acord    was  sworn   on   eyther 

syde ; 
Now,  faire  Custance,  almighty  god  thee 

gyde !  245 

Now  wolde  som  men  waiten,  as  I  gesse, 
That  I  shulde  tellen  al  the  purveyance 
That  themperour,  of  his  grete  noblesse. 
Hath    shapen    for    his     doghter     dame 

Custance. 
Wei  may  men  knowe  that  so  gret  ordi- 
nance 250 
May  no  man  tellen  in  a  litel  clause 
As  was  arrayed  for  so  heigh  a  cause. 

Bisshopes   ben  shapen  with   hir    for  to 

wende, 
Lordes,  ladyes,  knightes  of  renoun. 
And     other    folk    y-nowe,    this    is    the 

ende;  255 

And  notifyed  is  thurgh-out  the  toun 
That  every  wight,  with  gret  devociimn, 
Shulde  preyen  Crist  that  he  this  mariage 
Receyve  in  gree,  and  spede  this  viage. 

The  day  is  comen  of  hir  departinge,    260 
I  sey,  the  woful  day  fatal  is  come, 
That  ther  may  be  no  lenger  taryinge, 
But  forth  ward  they  hem  dressen,  alle  and 

some; 
Custance,  that  was  with  sorwe  al   over- 
come, 
Ful    pale    arist,    and     dresseth    hir    to 
wende;  265 

For  wel  she  seeth  ther  is  non  other  ende. 

Alias !    what    wonder    is   it   though  she 

wejite. 
That  shal  be  sent  to  strange  nacioun 
Fro  freendes,  that  so  tendrely  hir  kepte, 


528 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[270-339- 


bounden     under 


subiec- 
270 


And     to     be 

cioun 
Of  oon,  she  knoweth  not  his  condicioun. 
Housbondes  been  alle  gode,  and  han  ben 

yore, 
That  knowen  wyves,  I^  dar  say  yow  no 

more,    fii-m-;!-^   -^.  "/v.-'^^'-^T;^^,^,..,  ^ 


'  Fader,'  she  sayde,  '  thy  wrecched  child 
Custance,  274 

Thy  yonge  doghter,  fostred  up  so  softe, 
And  ye,  my  moder,  my  soverayn  plesance 
Over  alle  thing,  out-taken  Crist  on-lofte, 
Custance,  your   child,    hir   recomandeth 

ofte 
Un-to  your  grace,  for  I  shal  to  Surrye, 
Ne   shal   I    never  seen  yow  more    with 
ye.  280 

Alias !  un-to  the  Barbre  nacioun 
I  moste  anon,  sin  that  it  is  your  wille; 
But  Crist,  that  starf  for  our  redempcioun. 
So  yeve  me  grace,  his  hestes  to  fultille; 
I,  wrecche  womman,   no  fors  though  I 

spille.  285 

Wommen    are    born   to    thraldom    and 

penance, 
And  to  ben  under  mannes  governance.' 

I  trowe,  at  Troye,  whan  Pirrus  brak  the 

wal 
Or  Ylion  brende,  at  Thebes  the  citee, 
Nat   Rome,  for  the  harm  thurgh  Hani- 

bal  290 

That  Romayns  hath  venquisshed  tymes 

thre, 
Nas  herd  swich  tendre  weping  for  pitee 
As  in  the  chambre  was  for  hir  departinge; 
Bot  forth  she  moot,  wher-so  she  wepe  or 

singe. 

O  firste  moevyng  cruel  firmament,       295 
With   thy  diurnal  sweigh  that  crowdest 

ay 
And  hurlest  al  from  Est  til  Occident, 
That  naturally  wolde  holde  another  way, 
Thy   crowding   set   the  heven   in  swich 

array 
At  the  beginning  of  this  fiers  viage,     300 
That  cruel  Mars  hath  slayn  this  mariage. 

Infortunat  ascendent  tortuous. 

Of  which  the  lord  is  helples  falle,  alias ! 


Out  of  his  angle  in-to  the  derkest  hous. 
O  Mars,  O  Atazir,  as  in  this  cas !  305 

O  felile  mone,  unhappy  been  thy  pas ! 
Thou   knittest   thee  ther    thou   art    nat 

receyved, 
Ther  thou  were  weel,  fro  thennes  artow 

weyved. 

Imprudent  emperour  of  Rome,  alias  ! 
Was   ther    no    philosophre    in    all    thy 
toun?  310 

Is  no  tyme  bet  than  other  in  swich  cas? 
Of  viage  is  ther  noon  eleccioun. 
Namely  to  folk  of  heigh  condicioun, 
Nat  whan  a  rote  is  of  a  birthe  y-knowe? 
Alias!  we  ben  to  lewed  or  to  slowe.    315 

To  shippe  is  brought  this  woful  faire 
mayde 

Solempnely,  with  every  circumstance. 

'Now  lesu  Crist  be  with  yow  alle,' she 
sayde ; 

Ther  nis  namore  but  '  farewel !  faire 
Custance  !  ' 

She  peyneth  hir  to  make  good  counte- 
nance, 320 

And  forth  I  lete  hir  sayle  in  this  manere. 

And  turne  I  wol  agayn  to  my  matere. 

The  moder  of  the  sowdan,  welle  of  vyces, 
Espyed  hath  hir  sones  pleyn  entente. 
How  he  wol  lete  his  olde  sacrifyces,    325 
And  right  anon  she  for  hir  conseil  sente; 
And  they  ben  come,  to  knowe  what  she 

mente. 
And  when  assembled  was  this   folk   in- 

fere, 
She  sette  hir  doun,  and  sayde  as  ye  shal 

here. 

'  Lordes,'  quod  she,  '  ye  knowen 
everichon,  330 

How  that  my  sone  in  point  is  for  to  lete 
The  holy  lawes  of  our  Alkaron, 
Yeven  by  goddes  message  Makomete. 
But  oon  avow  to  grete  god  I  hete,       334 
The  lyf  shal  rather  out  of  my  body  sterte 
Than  Makometes  lawe  out  of  myn  herte  ! 

What  shulde  us  tyden  of  this  newe  lawe 
But    thraldom    to    our    bodies  and  pen- 
ance? 
And  afterward  in  helle  to  be  drawe 


340-408.] 


B.    TALE   OF  THE   MA2^  OF  LA  WE. 


529 


For    we    reneyed     Mahoun     our     cre- 
ance  ?  340 

But,  lordes,  wol  ye  maken  assurance, 
As  I  shal  seyn,  assenting  to  my  lore, 
And  I  shall  make  us  sauf  for  evermore  ? ' 

They  sworen  and  assenten,  every  man, 
To    live  with  hir  and  dye,  and    by    hir 

stonde;  345 

And  everich,  in  the  heste  wyse  he  can. 
To  strengthen  hir  shal  alle   his  freendes 

fonde ; 
And   she   hath   this  empryse  y-take   on 

honde. 
Which  ye  shal  heren  that  I  shal  devyse. 
And  to  hem  alle  she  spak  right  in    this 

wyse.  350 

'  We   shul  first  feyne   us  Cristendom  to 

take, 
Cold  water  shal  not  greve  us  but  a  lyte; 
And  I  shal  swich  a  feste  and  revel  make, 
That,  as  I  trowe,  I  shal  the  sowdan  quyte. 
For  though  his  wyf  be  cristned   never  so 

whyte,  355 

She  shal  have  nede  to  wasshe  awey  the 

rede, 
Thogh    she    a    font-ful    water    with   hir 

lede.' 

O  sowdanesse,  rote  of  iniquitee, 
Virago,  thou  Semyram  the  secounde, 
O  serpent  under  femininitee,  3^0 

Lyk    to    the     serpent     depe     in     helle 

y-bounde, 
O  feyned  womman,  al  that  may  confounde 
Vertu  and  innocence,  thurgh  thy  malyce, 
Is  bred  in  thee,  as  nest  of  every  vyce  ! 

O  Satan,  envious  sin  thilke  day  365 

That  thou  were  chased  from  our  heritage, 
Wei    knowestow    to  wommen    the   olde 

.  way ! 

j  Thou  madest  Eva  bringe  us  in  servage. 

"  Thou  wolt  fordoon  this  C'risten  mariage. 
Thyn     instrument     so,     weylawey     the 
vvhyle !  370 

Makestow  of  wommen,  whan   thou  wolt 
begyle. 

This  sowdanesse,  whom  T  thus  blame  and 

warie, 
Leet  prively  hir  conscil  goon  hir  way. 

2M 


What  sholde  I  in  this  tale  lenger  tarie? 
She  rydeth  to  the  sowdan  on  a  day,    375 
And  seyde   him,  that  she  wolde  reneye 

hir  lay. 
And     Cristendom     of    preestes     handes 

fonge, 
Repenting  hir  she  hethen  was  so  longe, 

Biseching  him  to  doon  hir  thai  honour, 
That  she  moste  han  the  Cristen  men  to 

feste ;  3S0 

'  To  plesen  hem  I  wol  do  my  labour.' 
The  sowdan   seith,  '  I    wol   don    at  your 

heste,' 
And  knelingthanketh  hir  of  that  requeste. 
So  glad  he  was,  he  niste  what  to  seye; 
She  kiste  hir  sone,  and  hoom  she  gooth 

hir  weye.  3^5 

Explicit  prima  pars.        Sequitiir  pars 
secunda. 

Arryved  ben  this  Cristen  folk  to  londe, 
In  Surric,  with  a  greet  solcmpne  route, 
And  hastily  this  sowdan  sente  his  sonde, 
First    to   his    moder,   and    al    the    regno 

aboute, 
And   seyde,  his   wyf  was  comen,  out  of 

doute,  390 

And  preyde   hir  for  to   ryde    agayn  the 

queue. 
The  honour  of  his  regne  to  sustene. 

Gret  was  the  prees,  and  riche  was  tharray 
Of  Surriens  and  Romayns  met  y-fere; 
The  moder  of  the  sowdan  riche  and  gay, 
Receyveth  hir  with  al-so  glad  a  chere  396 
As  any  moder  niighte  hir  doghter  dere, 
And  to  the  nexte  citee  ther  bisyde 
A  softe  pas  solempnely  they  ryde. 

Noght  trowe  I  the  triumphe  of  lulius,  400 
Of   which    that    Lucan   maketh  swich  a 

best, 
Was  royaller,  ne  more  curious 
Than  was  thasscnililce  of  this  Idisful  host. 
I'ut  this  scorpioun,  this  wikked  gost. 
The  sowdanesse,  for  al  liir  flateringe,  405 
Caste  under  this  ful  mortally  to  stinge. 

The  sowdan    comth   him-self  sone  after 

this 
So  royally,  that  wonder  is  to  telle, 


53° 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[409-478. 


And  welcometh  hir  with  alle    loye  and 

blis. 
And  thus  in  merthe  and  loye  I  lete  hem 

dvvelle.  410 

The  fruyt  of  this  matere  is  that  I  telle. 
Whan  tyme  cam,  men  thoughte  it  for  the 

beste 
That  revel  stinte,  and  men  goon  to  hir 

reste. 

The  tyme  cam,  this  olde  sowdanesse 
Ordeyned    hath   this   feste   of    which    I 

tolde,  415 

And  to  the  feste  Cristen  folk  hem  dresse 
In  general,  ye !   bothe  yonge  and  olde. 
Here  may  men  feste  and  royaltee  biholde, 
And  deyntees  mo  than  1  can  yow  devyse. 
But  al  to  dere  they  boughte  it  er  they 

ryse.  420 

O  sodeyn  wo  !  that  ever  art  successour 
To   worldly  blisse,  spreynd   with    bitter- 

nesse ; 
Thende  of  the  loye  of  our  worldly  labour; 
Wo  occupieth  the  fyn  of  our  gladnesse. 
Herke  thisconseil  for  thy  sikernesse,  425 
Up-on  thy  glade  day  have  in  thy  minde 
The    unwar    wo    or   harm    that    comth 

bihinde. 

For  shortly  for  to  tellen  at  o  word, 
The  sowdan  and  the  Cristen  everichone 
Ben  al  to-hewe  and  stiked  at  the  bord, 
But   it   were    only   dame    Custance    al- 

lone.  431 

This  olde  sowdanesse,  cursed  crone. 
Hath  with  hir  frendes  doon  this  cursed 

dede, 
For  she  hir-self  wolde  al  the  contree  lede. 

Ne  ther  was  Surrien  noon  that  was  con- 
verted 435 

That  of  the  conseil  of  the  sowdan  woot, 

That  he  nas  al  to-hewe  er  he  asterted. 

And  Custance  han  they  take  anon,  foot- 
hoot, 

And  in  a  shippe  al  sterelees,  god  woot, 

They  han  hir  set,  and  bidde  hir  lerne 
sayle  440 

Out  of  Surrye  agaynward  to  Itayle. 

A  certein  tresor  that  she  thider  ladde. 
And,  sooth  to  sayn,  vitaille  gret  plentee 


They  han  hir  yeven,  and  clothes  eek  she 

hadde, 
And  forth  she  sayleth  in  the  saltesee.  445 
O  my  Custance,  ful  of  benignitee, 
O  emperoures  yonge  doghter  dere. 
He  that  is  lord  of  fortune  be  thy  stere  ! 

She  blesseth  hir,  and  with  ful  pitous  voys 
Un-to   the    croys    of    Crist   thus    seyde 

she,  450 

'  O  clere,  o  welful  auter,  holy  croys, 
Reed  of  the  lambes  blood  full  of  pitee, 
That  wesh  the  world  fro  the  olde  iniqui- 

tee. 
Me  fro  the  feend,  and  fro  his  claweskepe, 
That    day  that  I  shal  drenchen  in  the 

depe.  455 

Victorious  tree,  proteccioun  of  trewe, 
That  only  worthy  were  for  to  bere 
The  king  of  heven  with  his  woundes  newe, 
The  whyte  lamb,  that  hurt  was  with  the 

spere, 
Flemer  of  feendes  out  of  him  and  here  460 
On  which  thy  limes  feithfully  extenden, 
Me    keep,    and    yif   me   might    my    lyf 

tamenden.' 

Yeres  and  dayes  fleet  this  creature 
Thurghout  the  see  of  Grece  un-to  the 

strayte 
Of  Marrok,  as  it  was  hir  aventure;     465 
On  many  a  sory  meel  now  may  she  bayte; 
After  her  deeth  ful  often  may  she  wayte, 
Er  that  the  wilde  wawes  wole  hir  dryve 
Un-to  the  place,  ther  she  shal  arryve. 

Men   mighten   asken    why  she  was  not 

slayn?  470 

Eek  at  the  feste  who  mighte  hir  body 

save? 
And  I  answere  to  that  demaunde  agayn, 
Who  saved  Daniel  in  the  horrilile  cave, 
Ther  every  wight  save  he,  maister  and 

knave, 
Was    with    the    leoun   frete   er  he   as- 

terte?  475 

No   wight  but  god,  that   he  bar  in  his 

herte. 

God  liste  to  shewe  his  wonderful  miracle 
In    hir,  for   we   sholde    seen  his  mighty 
werkes; 


479-54I-] 


B.     TAI.E   OF  THE   MAN   OF   LAWE. 


?3i 


Crist,  which  that  is  to  every  harm  triacle, 

By    certein     nienes     ofte,    as     knowen 

clerkes,  4S0 

Doth    thing   for   certain   ende    that   ful 

derk  is 
To  mannes  wit,  that  for  our  ignorance 
Ne  conne  not  knowe  his  prudent  pur- 
veyance. 

Now,  sith  she  was  not  at  the  feste  y-slawe. 

Who  kepte  hir  fro  the  drenching  in  the 
see  ?  485 

Who  kepte  lonas  in  the  fisshes  mawe 

Til  he  was  spuuted  up  at  Ninivee? 

Wei  may  men  knowe  it  was  no  wight  but 
he 

That  kepte  peple  Ebraik  fro  hir  drench - 
inge. 

With  drye  feet  thurgh-out  the  see  pass- 
ings 490 

Who  bad  the  foure  spirits  of  tempest. 
That  power  han  tanoyen  land  and  see, 
'  Bothe    north  and  south,  and  also  west 

and  est, 
Anoyeth  neither  see,  ne  land,  ne  tree?  ' 
S'-thly,  the  coiraundour  of  that  was  he. 
That   fro    the   tempest   ay  this  womman 

kepte  496 

As  wel  whan  [that]  she  wook  as  whan 

she  slepte. 

Wher   mighte   this   womman   mete  and 

drinke  have? 
Three  yeer   and    more   how   lasteth  hir 

vitaille? 
Who  fedde  the  Egipcien    Marie  in  the 

cave,  500 

Or  in  desert?  no  wight  but  Crist,  sans 

faille. 
Fyve  thousand  folk  it  was  as  gret  mer- 

vaille 
With  loves  fyve  and  fisshes  two  to  fede. 
God  sente  his  foison  at  hir  grete  nede. 

She  dryveth  forth  in-to  our  occean      505 
Thurgh-out  our  wilde  see,  til,  atte  laste. 
Under  an  hold  that  nempnen  I  ne  can, 
Fer   in    Northumberlond    the  wawe  hir 

caste, 
And  in  the  sond  hir  ship  stiked  so  faste, 
That  thennes    wolde   it    noght    of  al    a 

tyde,  510 


The  wille  of  Crist  was  that  she  shulde 

abyde. 

The  constable  of  the  castel  doun  is  fare 
To  seen  this  wrak,  and  al  the  ship  he 

soghte, 
And  fond  this  wery  womman  ful  of  care  ; 
He  fond  also  the  tresor  that  she  broghte. 
In  hir  langage  mercy  she  l)isoghte       516 
The  lyf  out  of  hir  body  for  to  twinne, 
Hir  to  delivere  of  wo  that  she  was  inne. 

A  maner  Latin  corrupt  was  hir  speche. 
But  algates  ther-by  wasshe  understonde  ; 
The  constable,  whan  him  list  no  Icnger 

seche,  5^' 

This  woful  womman   broghte  he  to  the 

londe; 
She  kneleth  doun,  and  thanketh  goddes 

sonde. 
But  what  she  was,  she  wolde   no  man 

seye. 
For  foul  ne  fair,  thogh  that  she  shulde 

deye.  525 

She  seyde,  she  was  so  mased  in  the  see 
That  she  forgat  hir  minde,  by  hir  trouthe; 
The  constalile  hath  of  hir  so  greet  pitee. 
And  eek  his  wyf,  that    they  wepen    for 

routhe. 
She  was  so  diligent,  with-outen  slouthe. 
To    serve    and    plesen    everich    in   that 

place,  531 

That   alle   hir  loven  that  loken  on   hir 

face. 

This  constable  and  dame  Hermengild  his 
wyf 

Were  payens,  and  that  contree  every- 
where; 

But  Hermengild  lovede  hir  right  as  hir 

lyf.  535 

And  Custance  hath  so  longe   soiourned 

there, 
In  orisons,  with  many  a  bitter  tere, 
Til     lesu    hath    converted     thurgh    his 

grace 
Dame  Hermengild,  constablesse  of  that 

place. 

In  al  that  lond  no  Cristen  durste  route, 
Alle  Cristen  folk  ben  fled  fro  that  con- 
tree  54' 


532 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[542-603 


Thurgh    payens,    that    conquereden    al 

aboute 
The  plages  of  the  North,  by  land  and 

see; 
To  walls  fled  the  Cristianitee  544 

Of  olde  Britons,  dwellinge  in  this  yle; 
Ther  was  her  refut  for  the  mene  whyle. 

But  yet  nere  Cristen  Britons  so  exyled 
That  ther  nere  somme  that  in  hir  pri- 

vetee 
Honoured    Crist,    and    hethen  folk    bi- 

gyled ; 
And  ny  the  castel  swiche  ther  dwelten 

three.  550 

That  oon  of  hem  was  blind,  and  mighte 

nat  see 
But  it  were  with  thilke  yen  of  his  minde. 
With  whiche  men  seen,  after  that  they 

ben  blinde. 

Bright  was  the  sonne  as  in  that  someres 

day. 
For   which  the   constable   and   his   wyf 

also  555 

And  Custance  han  y-take  the  righte  way 
Toward  the  see,  a  furlong  wey  or  two, 
To  pleyen  and  to  romen  to  and  fro; 
And  in  hir  walk  this  blinde  man  they 

mette 
Croked  and  old,  with  yen  faste  y-shette. 

'  In   name    of  Crist,'    cryde   this   blinde 

Britoun,  561 

'  Dame    Hermengild,  yif  me   my  sighte 

agayn.' 
This  lady  wex  affrayed  of  the  soun. 
Lest  that   hir   housbond,  shortly  for  to 

sayn, 
Wolde    hir    for    lesu    Cristes   love   han 

slayn,  565 

Til  Custance  made  hir  bold,  and  bad  hir 

werche 
The   wil    of    Crist,   as    doghter    of    his 

chirche. 

The  constable  wex  abasshed  of  that  sight. 
And   seyde,   '  what    amounteth    al    this 

fare  ?  ' 
Custance    answerde,   'sire,  it    is    Cristes 

might,  570 

That  helpeth  folk  out    of    the   feendes 

snare.' 


And  so  ferforth  she  gan  our  lay  declare. 
That  she  the  constable,  er  that  it  were 

eve. 
Converted,  and  on  Crist  made  him  bi- 

leve. 

This  constable  was  no-thing  lord  of  this 

place  575 

Of  which   I   speke,   ther    he    Custance 

fond. 
But  kepte  it  strongly,  many  wintres  space, 
Under  Alia,  king  of  al  Northumberlond, 
That  was  ful  wys,  and  worthy  of  his  hond 
Agayn  the  Scottes,  as  men  may  wel 
here,  580 

But  turne  I  wol  agayn  to  my  matere. 

Sathan,  that  ever  us  waiteth  to  bigyle, 
Saugh  of  Custance  al  hir  perfeccioun. 
And  caste  anon  how  he  mighte  quyte  hir 

whyle, 
And  made  a  yong  knight,  that  dwelte  in 

that  toun,  585 

Love  hir  so  bote,  of  foul  affeccioun, 
That   verraily  him   thoughte   he   shulde 

spille 
But  he  of  hir  mighte  ones  have  his  wille. 

He  woweth  hir,  but  it  availleth  noght. 
She  wolde  do  no  sinne,  by  no  weye;  590 
And,   for  despyt,   he    compassed    in    his 

thoght 
To  maken  hir  on  shamful  deth  to  deye. 
He    wayteth   whan    the    constable   was 

aweye. 
And  prively,  up-on  a  night,  he  crepte 
In    Hermengildes    chambre    whyl     she 

slepte.  595 

Wery,  for-waked  in  her  orisouns, 
Slepeth  Custance,  and  Hermengild  also. 
This    knight,  thurgh    Sathanas  tempta- 

ciouns, 
Al  softely  is  to  the  bed  y-go, 
And    kitte    the    throte    of    Hermengild 

a-two,  600 

And    leyde    the   blody   knyf    by    dame 

Custance, 
And  wente  his  wey,  ther  god  yeve  him 

meschance  ! 

Sone  after  comth   this   constable  hoom 
agayn, 


604-672.] 


B.    TALE  OF  THE   MAN   OF   LAWE. 


533 


And    eek    Alia,   tiiat   king   was   of  that 

loml, 
And  saugh  his  wyf  despitously  y-slain, 
Fur  which  ful  ofte  he  weep  and  wrt)ng 

his  hond,  606 

And  in  the  bed  the  blody  kn\  f  he  fond 
By  dame  Custance ;  alias !  what  mighte 

she  seye? 
For  verray  wo  hir  wit  was  al  aweye. 

To  king  Alia  was  told  al  this  meschance, 
And   eek   the   tyme,  and   where,  and   in 

what  wysc  61 1 

That    in    a    ship    was     founden    dame 

Custance, 
As  heer-biforn  that  ye  han  herd  devyse. 
The  kin.L;es  herte  of  pitee  gan  agryse. 
Whan  lie  saugh  so  benigne  a  creature 
Falle  in  disese  and  in  niisaventure.      616 

For   as   the   lomb   toward   his   deeth   is 

broght, 
So  slant  this  innocent  bifore  the  king; 
This  false  knight  that  hath  this  tresoun 

wroght 
Berth  hir  on  hond  that  she  hath  doon 

this  thing.  620 

But  nathelees,  ther  was  greet  moorning 
Among  the  peple,  and  seyn,  '  they   can 

not  gesse 
That  she  hath  doon  so  greet  a  wikked- 

nesse. 

For  they  han  seyn  hir  ever  so  vertuous, 
And  loving  Ilermengild  right  as  her  lyf.' 
Of   this    bar    w-itnesse    everich    in    that 

hous  626 

Save  he  that  Hermengild  slow  with  his 

knyf. 
This  gentil  king  hath  caught  a  gret  mo- 

tyf 
Of  this  witnesse,  and  thoghte  he  wolde 

entjuere 
Depper  in  this,  a  trouthe  for  to  lere.  630 

Alias !    Custance !    thou   hast   no    cham- 

pioun, 
Ne    lighte    canstow   nought,    so    weyla- 

wey  ! 
But    he,    that    starf    for    our    redemp- 

cioun 
And  bond  Sathan  (and  yit  lyth  ther  he 

lay) 


So  be  thy  stronge  champioun  this  day ! 
For,  i)ut-if  Crist  open  miracle  kythe,  636 
Withouten  gilt  thou  shalt    be    slayn   as 
swythe. 

She  sette  her  doun  on  knees,  and  thus 

she  sayde, 
'  Immortal  god,  that  savedcst  Susanne 
Fro    false    blame,    and    thou,    merciful 

mayde,  640 

Mary  I  mene,  doghter  to  Seint  Ainie, 
Bifore  whos  child  aungeles  singe  Osanne, 
If  I  be  giltlees  of  this  felonye. 
My  socour  be,  for  elles  I  shal  dye ! ' 

Have    ye    nat   seyn   som    tyme    a    pale 

face,  645 

Among  a  prees,  of  him  that  hath  be  lad 

Toward  his  deeth,   wher-as  him  gat  no 

grace, 
And  swich  a  colour  in  his  face  hath  had. 
Men  mighte  knowe  his  face,  that   was 

bistad, 
Amonges  alle  the  faces  in  that  route :  650 
So  stant  Custance,  and  loketh  hir  aboute. 

O  quenes,  livinge  in  prosperitee. 
Duchesses,  and  ye  ladies  everichone, 
Ilaveth  som  routhe  on  hir  adversitee; 
An  emperoures  doghter  stant  allone;  655 
She  hath  no  wight  to  whom  to  make  hir 

mone. 
O  blood  royal,  that  stondest  in  this  drede, 
Fer  ben  thy  freendes  at  thy  grete  nede ! 

This  Alia  king  hath  swich  compassioun, 
As  gentil  herte  is  fultild  of  pitee,         660 
That  from  his  yen  ran  the  water  doun. 
'  Now  hastily  do  fecche  a  book,'  quod  he, 
'  And  if  this  knight  wol  sweren  how  that 

she 
This  w^omman  slow,  yet  wole  we  us  avyse 
Whom  that  we  wole  that  shal  ben  our 

lustyse.'  665 

A  Briton  book,  writen  with  Evangyles, 
Was   fet,    and    on    this    book    he    swoor 

anoon 
She  gilty  was,  and  in  the  mene  whyles 
A  hand  himsmoot  upon  the  nekke-boon. 
That  doun  he  fil  atones  as  a  stoon,      670 
And  bothe  his  yen  broste  out  of  his  face 
In  sight  of  every  body  in  that  place. 


534 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[(^73-739- 


A  vois  was  herd  in  general  audience, 
And    scyde,    '  thou    hast    desclaundred 

giltelees 
The   doghter    of    holy    chirche    in    hey 

presence;  675 

Thus  hastuu  doon,  and  yet  holde  I  my 

pees.' 
Of  this  mervaille  agast  was  al  the  prees; 
As  mased  folk  they  stoden  everichone, 
For    drede    of    wreche,   save    Custance 

allone. 

Greet  was  the  drede  and  eek  the  repent- 
ance 680 

Of  hem  that  hadden  wrong  suspeccioun 

Upon  this  sely  innocent  Custance; 

And,  for  this  miracle,  in  conclusioun, 

And  by  Custances  mediacioun, 

The  king,  and  many  another  in  that 
place,  685 

Converted  was,  thanked  be  Cristes  grace  ! 

This  false  knight  was  slayn  for  his  un- 

trouthe 
By  lugement  of  Alia  hastifly; 
And    yet   Custance   hadde   of  his  deeth 

gret  routhe. 
And  after  this  lesus,  of  his  mercy,       690 
Made  Alia  wedden  ful  solempnely 
This  holy  mayden,  that  is  so  bright  and 

shene. 
And  thus  hath  Crist  y-maad  Custance  a 

quene. 

But  who  was  woful,  if  I  shal  nat  lye. 
Of  this  wedding  but  Donegild,  and  na 

mo,  695 

The  kinges  moder,  ful  of  tirannye? 
Ilir    though te    hir    cursed   herte    brast 

a-two ; 
She  wolde  noght  hir  sone  had  do  so; 
Hir   thoughte   a  despit,  that  he  sholde 

take 
So  strange  a  creature  un-to  his  make.  700 

Me  list  nat  of  the  chaf  nor  of  the  stree 
Maken  so  long  a  tale,  as  of  the  corn. 
What  sholde  I  tellen  of  the  royaltee 
At  mariage,  or  which  cours  gooth  biforn, 
Who  blovveth  in  a  trompe  or  in  an  horn? 
The  fruit  of  every  tale  is  for  to  seye ;  706 
They  ete,  and  drinke,  and  daunce,  and 
singe,  and  pleye. 


They  goon  to  bedde,  as  it  was  skile  and 

right; 
For,   thugh_that_wyves   been   ful    holy  p, 

thinges,  \'  ^ 

They  moste  take  in  pacience  at  night  710 
Swich  maner   necessaries  as   been  ples- 

inges 
To   folk    that  han    y-wedded   hem    with 

ringes, 
And  leye  a  lyte  hir  holinesse  asyde 
As  for  the  tyme;  it  may  no  bet  bityde. 

On  hir  he  gat  a  knave-child  anoon,     715 
And  to  a  bishop  and  his  constable  eke 
He  took   his   wyf  to  kepe,  whan  he  is 

goon 
To  Scotland-ward,  his  fo-men  for  to  seke; 
Now  faire  Custance,  that  is  so   humble 

and  meke. 
So  longe   is  goon   with   childe,   til    that 

stille  720 

She   halt  hir  chambre,   abyding  Cristes 

wille. 

The  tyme  is  come,  a  knave-child  she  her; 
Mauricius   at    the    font-stoon   they   him 

calle; 
This    Constable    dooth     forth    come    a 

messager, 
And  wroot  un-to  his  king,  that   cleped 

was  Alle,  725 

How  that  this  blisful  tyding  is  bifalle, 
And  othere  tydings  speedful  for  to  seye; 
He  takth  the  lettre,  and  forth  he  gooth 

his  weye. 

This  messager,  to  doon  his  avantage,  729 
Un-to  the  kinges  moder  rydeth  swythe. 
And  salueth  hir  ful  faire  in  his  langage, 
'  Madame,'  quod  he,  '  ye  may  be  glad  and 

blythe, 
And  thanke  god   an  hundred   thousand 

sythe; 
My  lady   quene  hath   child,    with-outen 

doute. 
To    loye    and    blisse    of    al   this   regne 

aboute.  735 

Lo,  heer  the  lettres  seled  of  this  thing, 
That  I  mot  bere  with  al  the  haste  I  may; 
If  ye   wol    aught    un-to    your    sone    the 

king, 
I  am  your  servant,  bothe  niglit  and  day.' 


740-8I2.] 


B.     TALE  OF  THE   MAN   OF   LAWE. 


535 


Donef;ikI  answerde,  '  as  now  at  this  tyme, 
nay;  740 

But  heer  al  night  I  wol  thou  take  thy 
reste, 

Toniorwe  wol  I  seye  thee  what  me  leste.' 

This  niessagcr  drank  sadly  ale  and  wyn, 
And  stolen  were  his  lettres  prively 
Out  of  his  box,  whyl  he  sleep  as  a  swyn; 
And  countrefeted  was  ful  subtilly         746 
Another  lettre,  wroght  ful  sinfully, 
Un-to  the  king  direct  of  this  niatere 
Fro  his  constable,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 

The  lettre  spak,  '  the  queen  delivered 
was  750 

Of  so  horrible  a  feendly  creature. 
That  in  the  castel  noon  so  hardy  was 
That  any  whyle  dorste  ther  endure. 
The  nioder  was  an  elf,  by  aventure 
V-come,  by  charmes  or  by  sorcerye,    755 
And  every  wight  hateth  hir  companye.' 

Wo  was  this  king  whan  he  this  lettre 
had  seyn. 

But  to  no  vvighte  he  tolde  his  sorwes 
sore, 

But  of  his  owene  honde  he  wroot  ageyn, 

'  Welcome  the  sonde  of  Crist  for  ever- 
more 760 

To  me,  that  am  now  lerned  in  his  lore; 

Lord,  welcome  be  thy  lust  and  thy  ples- 
aunce. 

My  lust  I  putte  al  in  thyn  ordinaunce  ! 

Kepeth  this  child,  al  be  it  foul  or  fair. 
And    eek     my   wyf,    un-to    niyn    hoom- 

cominge;  765 

Crist,  whan  him   list,  may  sende  me  an 

heir 
More  agreable  than  this  to  my  lykinge.' 
This  lettre  he  seleth,  prively  wepinge, 
Which  to  the  messager  was  take  sone. 
And  forth  he  gooth;    ther  is  na  more  to 

done.  770 

O  messager,  fulfild  of  dronkenesse. 
Strong  is  thy  breeth,  thy  limes  faltren  ay. 
And  thou  biwreyest  alle  secreenesse. 
Thy  mind  is  lorn,  thou  langlest  as  a  lay. 
Thy  face  is  turned  in  a  newe  array !     775 
Ther  dronkenesse  regncth  in  any  rt)Ute, 
There  is  no  conseil  hid,  with-outen  doute. 


O   Donegild,   I    ne    have   noon    English 

digne 
Un-to  thy  malice  and  thy  tirannye ! 
And  thcrfor  to  the  fcend  I  thee  resigne. 
Let  him  endyten  of  thy  traitorye !       781 
Vy,  mannish,  fy !   o  nay,  by  god,  I  lye, 
Fy,  feendly  spirit,  for  1  dar  wel  telle. 
Though  thou  heer  walke,  thy  spirit  is  in 

hellc ! 

This  messager  comth  fro  the  king  agayn, 
And    at    the    kinges    modres    court    he 

lighte,  786 

And  she  was  of  this  messager  ful  fayn. 
And    plesed    him    in    al    that    ever    she 

mighte. 
He  drank,  ahd  wel  his  girdcl  underpighte. 
He  slepeth,  and  he  snoreth  in  his  gyse  790 
Al  night,  un-til  the  sonne  gan  aryse. 

Eft  were  his  lettres  stolen  everichon 
And  countrefeted  lettres  in  this  wyse; 
'The     king    comandeth    his    constable 

anon, 
Up    peyne    of    hanging,    and    on    heigh 

luyse,  795 

That  he  ne  sholde  suffren  in  no  wyse 
Custance  in-with  his  regne  for  tabyde 
Thre  dayes  and  a  quarter  of  a  tyde; 

But  in  the  same  ship  as  he  hir  fond, 

Hir  and  hir  yonge  sone,  and  al  hir 
gere,  800 

He  sholde  putte,  and  croude  hir  fro  the 
lond. 

And  charge  hir  that  she  never  eft  come 
there.' 

O  my  Custance,  wel  may  thy  goost  have 
fere 

And  sleping  in  thy  dreem  been  in  pen- 
ance, 

When  Donegild  caste  al  this  ordi- 
nance !  805 

This  messager  on  morwe,  whan  he  wook, 
Un-to  the  castel  halt  the  nexte  wey, 
And  to  the  constable  he  the  lettre  took; 
And  whan  that  he  this  pitous  lettre  sey, 
Ful  ofte  he  seyde  '  alias  ! '  and  '  weyla- 

wey  !  '  810 

'  Lord    Crist,'   quod    he,  '  how  may   this 

world  endure? 
So  ful  of  sinne  is  many  a  creature ! 


536 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[813-875. 


O  mighty  god,  if  tliat  it  be  thy  wille, 
Sith  thou  art  rightful    luge,  how  may  it 

he 
That    thou    wolt    suffren    innocents    to 

spille,  815 

And  wiklvcd  folk  regne  in  prosperitee? 
O  good  Custance,  alias !   so  wo  is  me 
That  I  mot  be  thy  tormentour,  or  deye 
On  shames    deeth;    ther    13    noon    other 

weye !  ' 

Wepen  bothe  yonge  and  olde  in  al  that 

place,  820 

Whan   that   the   king  this   cursed    lettre 

sente. 
And  Custance,  with  a  deedly  pale  face. 
The    ferthe    day    toward    hir    ship    she 

wente. 
But  natheles  she  taketh  in  good  entente 
The  wille  of  Crist,   and,   kneling  on  the 

stronde,  825 

She   seyde,    '  lord !  ay   wel-com    be    thy 

sonde ! 

He  that  me  kepte  fro  the  false  blame 
Whyl  I  was  on  the  londe  amonges  yow, 
He  can  me  kepe  from  harme  and  eek  fro 

shame 
In  sake  see,  al-thogh  I  se  nat  how.      830 
As  strong  as  ever  he  was,  he  is  yet  now. 
In  him  triste  I,  and  in  his  moder  dere. 
That  is  to  me  my  seyl  and  eek  my  stere.' 

Hir  litel  child  lay  weping  in  hir  arm. 
And     kneling,     pitously     to     him     she 

seyde,  835 

'  Pees,   litel   sone,    I  wol   do    thee    non 

harm.' 
With  that    hir  kerchef  of  hir  heed    she 

breyde. 
And  over  his  litel  yen  she  it  leyde; 
And  in  hir  arm  she  luUeth  it  ful  faste, 
And  in-to  heven  hir  yen  up  she  caste.  840 

'  Moder,'  quod  she,  '  and  mayde  bright, 

Marye, 
Sooth  is  that  thurgh  wommannes  egge- 

ment 
Mankind  was  lorn  and  damned  ay  to  dye. 
For  which  thy  child  was  on  a  croys  y-rent; 
Thy  blisful  yen  sawe  al  his  torment;    845 
Than  is  ther  no  comparisoun  bitwene 
Thy  wo  and  any  wo  man  may  sustene. 


Thou  sawe  thy  child  y-slayn  bifor  thyn 
yen. 

And  yet  now  liveth  my  litel  child,  par- 
fay ! 

Now,  lady  bright,  to  whom  alle  woful 
cryen,  850 

Thou  glorie  of  wommanhede,  thou  faire 
may, 

Thou  haven  of  refut,  brighte  sterre  of 
day, 

Rewe  on  my  child,  that  of  thy  gentillesse 

Rewest  on  every  rewful  in  distresse ! 

O  litel  child,  alias  !   what  is  thy  gilt,    855 

That  never  wroughtest  sinne  as  yet,  par- 
dee. 

Why  wil  thyn  harde  fader  han  thee  spilt? 

O  mercy,  dere  Constable  ! '  quod  she; 

'  As  lat  my  litel  child  dwelle  heer  with 
thee; 

And  if  thou  darst  not  saven  him,  for 
blame,  860 

So  kis  him  ones  in  his  fadres  name ! ' 

Ther-with  she   loketh   bakward   to    the 

londe, 
And  seyde,  '  far-wel,   housbond   routhe- 

lees ! ' 
And  up  she  rist,  and  walketh  doun  the 

stronde 
Toward    the   ship;     hir   folweth   al    the 

prees,  865 

And  ever  she  preyeth  hir  child  to  holde 

his  pees; 
And  taketh  hir  leva,  and  with  an  holy 

entente 
She   blesseth   hir;     and   in-to   ship    she 

wente. 

Vitailled  was  the  ship,  it  is  no  drede, 
Habundantly  for  hir,  ful  longe  space,  870 
And  other  necessaries  that  sholde  nede 
She    hadde   y-nogh,  heried    be    goddes 

grace ! 
For  wind  and  weder  almighty  god  pur- 

chace, 
And  bringe  hir  hoom !   I  can  no  bettre 

seye; 
But   in    the    see   she    dryveth    forth    hir 

weye.  875 

Explicit  secunda  pars.     Sequitur  pars 
tercia. 


876-941-] 


B.    TALE  OF  THE   MAN   OF   LAWE. 


537 


Alia  the  king  comth    hoom,   sone  after 

this, 
Unto  his  castel  of  the  which  I  tolde,  877 
And  axeth  whcr  his  wyf  and  his  child  is. 
The  ctinstablc  j^an  aboutc  his  hcrte  ci)lde, 
And  pleynly  al  the  nianer  he  him  tolde 
As  ye  han  herd,  I  can  telle  it  no  bettre, 
And  shcweth  the  king  his  seel  and  [eek] 

his  leltre, 

And  seyde,  '  lord,  as  ye  comaunded  me 
Up  peyne  of  deeth,  so  have  1  doon,  cer- 

tein.' 
This  mcssager  tormented  was  til  he     885 
Moste  biknowe  and  tellen,  plat  and  plein. 
Fro  night  to  night,  in  what  place  he  had 

leyn. 
Anil  thus,  by  wit  and  subtil  enqueringe, 
Ymagined  was  by  whom  this  harm  gan 

springe. 

The    hand    was   knowe    that    the    lettre 

wroot,  890 

And  al  the  venim  of  this  cursed  dede, 
But  in  what  wyse,  certeinly  I  noot. 
Theffect  is  this,  that  Alia,  out  of  drede, 
His  moder  slow,  that  men  may  pleinly 

rede, 
For    that    she    traitour   was   to    hir   li- 

geaunce.  895 

Thus   endeth    olde  Donegild  with    mes- 

chaunce. 

The  sorwe  that  this  Alia,  night  and  day, 
Maketh  for  his  wyf  and  for  his  child  also, 
Tlier  is  no  tonge  that  it  telle  may. 
But  now  wol  I  un-to  Custance  go,        900 
That  fleteth  in  the  see,  in  peyne.  and  wo, 
Fyve  yeer   and   more,  as   lyked   Cristes 

sonde, 
Er  that  hir  ship  approched  un-to  londe. 

Under  an  hethen  castel,  atte  laste, 

Of  which  the   name  in  my  text  noght  I 

finde,  905 

Custance  and  eek  hir  child  the  see   up- 

caste. 
Almigiity  god,  that  saveth  al  mankinde. 
Have  on  Custance  and  on  hir  child  som 

minde. 
That  fallen  is  in  hethen  land  eft-sone. 
In  point  to  spille,.  as   I   shal   telle   yow 

sone.  910 


Doun  from  the  castel  comth  ther  many  a 

wight 
To  gauren  on  this  ship  and  on  Custance. 
But  shortly,  from  the  castel,  on  a  night, 
The  lordes  stywaril  —  god  yeve  him  mes- 

chaunce ! — 
A    theef,     that    had    reneyed    our    cre- 

aunce,  915 

Com   in-to   ship    allone,    and    seyde    he 

sholde 
Hir  Icmman  be,  wher-so   she  wolde    or 

nolde. 

Wo  was  this  wrecched  womman  tho 
bigon, 

Hir  child  cryde,  and  she  cryde  pitously; 

But  blisful  Marie  heelp  hir  right 
anon;  920 

For  with  hir  strugling  wel  and  mightily 

The  theef  iil  over  bord  al  sodeinly. 

And  in  the  see  he  dreynte  for  ven- 
geance; 

And  thus  hath  Crist  unwemmed  kept 
Custance. 

O     foule     lust     of    luxurie !     lo,     thyn 

ende !  Auctor. 

Nat    only    that    thou    feyntest    mannes 

minde,  926 

But  verraily  thou  wolt  his  body  shende; 
Thende    of  thy   werk   or   of   thy   lustes 

blinde 
Is  compleyning,  how  many-oon  may  men 

fmde 
That  noght  for  werk  som-tyme,  but  for 

thentente  930 

To  doon  this  sinne,  ben  outher  sleyn  or 

shente  ! 

How  may  this  wayke  womman  han  this 

strengthe 
Hir  to  defende  agayn  this  renegat? 
O  G(jlias,  unmcsurable  of  lenglhe, 
How  niighte  David  make  thee  so  mat, 
So  yong  and  of  armure  so  desolat?      936 
How   dorste  he   loke   up-on  thy  dredful 

face? 
Wel   may  men  seen,  it  nas  but  goddes 

grace ! 

W^ho  yaf  ludith  corage  or  hardinesse 
To  sleen  him,  Olofernus,  in  his  tente,  940 
And  to  deliveren  out  of  wrecchednesse 


538 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[942-101 1. 


The    peple    of    god?    I    seye,    for    this 

entente. 
That,  right  as  god  spirit  of  vigour  sente 
To    hem,  and   saved   hem   out   of  mes- 

chance, 
So     sente     he     might    and    vigour     to 

Custance.  945 

Forth    goth    hir    ship     ♦^hurgh-out     the 

narwe  mouth 
Of  lubaltar  and  Septe,  dryving  ay, 
Som-tyme    West,    som-tyme    North    and 

South, 
And  som-tyme  Est,  ful  many  a  wery  day, 
Til     Cristes     moder      (blessed     be     she 

ay!)  950 

Hath  shapen,  thurgh  hir  endelees  good- 

nesse. 
To  make  an  ende  of  al  hir  hevinesse. 

Now   lat   us   stinte   of  Custance    but   a 

throvve. 
And  speke  we  of  the  Romain  Emperour, 
That   out    of    Surrie    hath    by     lettres 
knowe  955 

The  slaughtre  of  Cristen  folk,  and  dis- 
honour 
Don  to  his  doghter  by  a  fals  traitour, 
I  mene  the  cursed  wikked  sowdanesse. 
That   at  the  feste  leet  sleen  both  more 
and  lesse. 

For    which    this    emperour    hath    sent 

anoon  960 

His  senatour,  with  royal  ordinance. 
And  othere  lordes,  god  wot,  many  oon. 
On  Surriens  to  taken  heigh  vengeance. 
They  brennen,  sleen,  and  bringe  hem  to 

meschance 
Ful   many   a   day;    but   shortly,   this  is 

thende,  965 

Homward  to  Rome  they  shapen  hem  to 

wende. 

This  senatour  repaireth  with  victorie 

To  Rome-ward,  sayling  ful  royally. 

And  mette  the  ship  dryving,  as  seith  the 

storie. 
In  which  Custance  sit  ful  pitously.       970 
No-thing  ne  knew  he  what  she  was,  ne 

why 
She  was  in  swich  array;    ne  she  nil  seye 
Of  hir  estaat,  althogh  she  sholde  deye. 


He    bringeth    hir  to   Rome,   and   to   his 

wyf 
He  yaf  hir,  and  hir  yonge  sone  also;  975 
And  with  the  senatour  she  ladde  her  lyf. 
Thus  can  our  lady  bringen  out  of  wo 
Woful  Custance,  and  many  another  mo. 
And   longe   tyme    dwelled    she    in   that 

place, 
In  holy  werkes  ever,  as  was  hir  grace.  980 

The  senatoures  wyf  hir  aunte  was. 

But  for  al  that  she  knew  hir  never  the 

more; 
I  wol  no  lenger  tarien  in  this  cas, 
But  to  king  Alia,  which  I  spak  of  yore, 
That    for    his    wyf    wepeth    and    syketh 

sore,  985 

I  wol  retourne,  and  lete  I  wol  Custance 
Under  the  senatoures  governance. 

King  Alia,  which  that  hadde  his  moder 

slayn. 
Upon  a  day  fil  in  swich  repentance. 
That,  if  I  shortly  tellen  shal  and  plain. 
To    Rome    he    comth,    to    receyven    his 

penance;  991 

And  putte  him  in  the  popes  ordinance 
In  heigh  and  low,  and  lesu  Crist  bisoghte 
Foryeve    his     wikked    werkes    that    he 

wroghte. 

The   fame  anon   thurgh    Rome   toun   is 
born,  995 

How  Alia  king  shal  come  in  pilgrimage, 
By  herbergeours  that  wenten  him  biforn; 
For  which  the  senatour,  as  was  usage, 
Rood  him  ageyn,  and  many  of  his  linage, 
As  wel  to  shewen  his  heighe  magnili- 
cence  1000 

As  to  don  any  king  a  reverence. 

Greet  chere  dooth  this  noble  senatour 
To  king  Alia,  and  he  to  him  also; 
Everich  of  hem  doth  other  greet  honour; 
And  so  bifel  that,  in  a  day  or  two,      1005 
This  senatour  is  to  king  Alia  go 
To  feste,  and  shortly,  if  I  shal  nat  lye, 
Custances  sone  wente  in  his  companye. 

Som   men   wolde   seyn,   at    requeste   of 

Custance, 
This    senatour   hath   lad   this    child    to 

feste;  loio 


IOI2-I078.J 


H.    TALE   OF  THE   MAN   OF   LAWE. 


539 


I  may  iiat  tellcn  every  circumstance, 
He  as  Ije  may,  ther  was  he  at  the  leste. 
But    soth    is    this,    that,    at    liis    moilres 

hestc, 
Hiforn  Alia,  during  the  metes  space, 
The    child   stooil,   loking    in    the   kinges 

face.  1015 

This  Alia   king  hath  of  this  child  greet 

wonder. 
And  to  the  senatour  he  seyde  anon, 
'  Whos  is  that  faire   child  that  stondeth 

yonder? ' 
'  I  moot,'  tjuod  he,  '  by  god,  and  by  scint 

lohn! 
A  moder  he  hath,  but  fader  hath  he  non 
That   I    of    woof  —  but    shortly,    in    a 

stounde,  I02I 

He    tulde  Alia  how  that  this  child  was 

founde. 

'  But  god  wot,'  quod  this  senatour  also, 
'  80  vertuous  a  livere  in  my  lyf, 
Ne  saugh  I  never  as  she,  ne  herde  of  mo 
Of   worldly    wommen,    mayden,    nor    of 

wyf;  1026 

I  dar  wel  seyn  hir  hadde  lever  a  knyf 
Thurgh-out  her  breste,  than  been  a  wom- 

man  wikke; 
Ther  is  no  man  coude  bringe  hir  to  that 

prikke.' 

Now     was     this     childe    as    lyk    un-to 
Custance  1030 

As  possible  is  a  creature  to  be. 
This  Alia  hath  the  face  in  remembrance 
Of  dame  Custance,  and  ther-un  mused  he 
If  that    the    childes    moder  were   aught 

she 
That  was  his  wyf,  and  prively  he  sighte, 
And   spedde  him   fro  the  table   that   he 
mighte.  1036 

'  Parfay,'  thoghte  he,  '  fantome  is  in  myn 

heed  ! 
I  oghte  deme,  of  skilful  lugement, 
That  in  the  sake  see  my  wyf  is  deed.' 
And  afterward  he  made  his  argument  — 
'  What  woot  I,  if  that  Crist  have  hider 

y-sent  1041 

My  wyf  by  see,  as  wel  as  he  hir  sente 
To   my    contree    fro    thennes    that    she 

wente?' 


.'Xnd,  after  noon,  hoom  with  the  senatour 
Goth     Alia,    for    to    seen     this     wonder 

ciiaunce.  1045 

This  senatour  dooth  .\lla  greet  honour. 
And  hastiHy  he  sente  after  Custaunce. 
But  trustcth  weel,  hir  liste  nat  to  daunce 
Whan  that  she  wiste  wherefor  was  that 

sonde. 
Unnethe    up-on    hir    feet    she     mighte 

stonde.  1050 

When  Alia  saugh  his    wyf,  faire   he   hir 

grette, 
And  weep,  that  it  was  routhe  for  to  see. 
For  at  the  firste  look  he  on  hir  sette 
He  knew  wel  verraily  tiiat  it  was  she. 
And  she  for  sorwe  as  domb  stant  as  a 

tree;  1055 

So  was  hir  herte  shet  in  hir  distresse 
Whan  she  remembred  his  unkindenesse. 

Twyes  she  swovvned  in  his  owne  sighte; 
He  weep,  and  him  excuseth  pit(;usly :  — 
'  Now  god,'  quod  he, '  and  alle  his  halwes 

brighte  1060 

So  wisly  on  my  soule  as  have  mercy, 
That  of  your  harm  as  giltelecs  am  I 
As    is    ^laurice    my   sone    so    lyk   your 

face; 
Elles  the   feend   me  fecche  out  of   this 

place ! ' 

Long  was  the  sobbing  and  the  bitter 
peyne  1065 

Er  that  hir  woful  hertes  mighte  cesse; 

Greet  was  the  pitee  for  to  here  hem 
pleyne, 

Thurgh  whiche  pleintcs  gan  hir  wo  cn- 
cresse. 

I  prey  yow  al  my  labour  to  relcsse; 

I  may  nat  telle  hir  wo  uii-til  toniurwe, 

I  am  so  wery  for  to  speke  of  sorwe.  1071 

But  fynally,  when  that  the  sooth  is  wist 

That  Alia  giltclees  was  of  hir  wo, 

I    trowe    an    hundred    tymes   been    they 

kist, 
And  swich  a  blisse  is  ther   bitwix    hem 

two  1075 

That,  save  the  loye  that  lasteth  evermo, 
Ther  is  non  lyk,  that  any  creature 
Hath  seyn  or  shal,  whyl  that  the  world 

may  dure. 


540 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1079-1148. 


Tho  preycle  she  hir  housbond  mekely, 
In  relief  of  hir  longe  pitous  pyne,       1080 
That  he  wold  preye  hir  fader  specially 
That,  of  his  magestee,  he  wolde  enclyne 
To    vouche-sauf   som    day   with    him    to 

dyne ; 
She   preyde  him  eek,   he   sholde    by  no 

weye 
Un-lo  hir  fader  no  word  of  hir  seye.  1085 

Som  men  wold  seyn,  how  that  the  child 

lilaurice 
Doth  this  message  un-to  this  emperour; 
But,  as  1  gesse,  Alia  was  nat  so  nyce 
To  him,  that  was  of  so  sovereyn  honour 
As  he  that  is  of  Cristen  folk  the  Hour,  1090 
Sente  any  child,  but  it  is  bet  to  deme 
He   wente   him-self,   and  so   it  may  wel 

seme. 

This  emperour  hath  graunted  gentilly 
To  come  to  diner,  as  he  him  bisoghte; 
And  wel  rede  I,  he  loked  bisily  1095 

Up-on    this    child,    and    on    his  doghter 

thoghte 
Alia  goth  to  his  in,  and,  as  him  oghte, 
Arrayed  for  this  feste  in  every  wyse 
As  ferforlh  as  his  conning  may  suffyse. 

The  morwe  cam,  and  Alia  gan  him 
dresse,  iioo 

And  eek  his  wyf,  this  emperour  to 
mete ; 

And  forth  they  ryde  in  loye  and  in  glad- 
nesse. 

And  whan  she  saugh  hir  fader  in  the 
strete. 

She  lighte  doun,  and  falleth  him  to 
fete. 

'  Fader,'  quod  she,  '  your  yonge  child 
Custance  1105 

Is  now  ful  clene  out  of  your  remem- 
brance. 

I  am  your  doghter  Custance,'  quod  she, 
'  That  whylom  ye  han  sent  un-to  Surrye. 
It  am  I,  fader,  that  in  the  salte  see 
Was    put    allone    and    dampned    for    to 

dye.  mo 

Now,  gode  fader,  mercy  I  yow  crye. 
Send  me  namore  un-to  non  hethenesse, 
But  thonketh  my  lord  heer  of  his  kinde- 

nesse.' 


Who  can  the  pitous  loye  tellen  al 
Bitwix    hem   three,    sin    they    ben    thus 

y-mette?  11 15 

But  of  my  tale  made  an  ende  I  shal; 
The  day   goth    faste,    I    wol    no    lenger 

lelte. 
This  glade  folk  to  diner  they  hem  sette; 
In  loye  and  blisse  at  mete  I   lete   hem 

dwelle 
A   thousand  fold  wel  more  than  I   can 

telle.  1 1 20 

This  child  Maurice  was  sithen  emperour 
Maad  by  the  pope,  and  lived  cristenly. 
To  Cristes  chirche  he  dide  greet  honour; 
But  I  lete  al  his  storie  passen  by. 
Of  Custance  is  my  tale  specially.        1 125 
In  olde  Romayn  gestes  may  men  finde 
Maurices  lyf;   I  here  it  noght  in  minde. 

This  king  Alia,  whan  he  his  tyme  sey. 
With    his    Custance,    his   holy    wyf   so 

swete, 
To  Engelond  been  they  come  the  righte 

wey,  1 1 30 

Wher-as  they  live  in  loye  and  in  quiete. 
But  litel  whyl  it  lasteth,  I  yow  hete, 
loye    of    this    world,    for    tyme    wol    nat 

abyde; 
Fro    day   to   night   it   changeth  as   the 

tyde. 

Who  lived  ever  in  swich  delyt  o  day  1 135 
That  him  ne  moeved  outher  conscience, 
Or  ire,  or  talent,  or  som  kin  affray, 
Envye,  or  pryde,  or  passion,  or  offence? 
I    ne    seye    but    for   this  ende   this  sen- 
tence, 1 1 39 
That  litel  whyl  in  loye  or  in  plesance 
Lasteth  the  blisse  of  Alia  with  Custance. 

For  deeth,  that  taketh  of  heigh  and  low 

his  rente, 
When    passed   was    a   yeer,    even   as    I 

gesse, 
Out    of    this    world    this    king    Alia    he 

hente, 
For  whom  Custance  hath  ful  gret  hevi- 

nesse.  1 145 

Now  lat  us  preyen  god  his  soule  blesse  ! 
And  dame  Custance,  fynally  to  seye, 
Towards    the   toun    of  Rome   gooth   hir 

weye. 


II49-I20O.] 


B.    THE   SHIPMANNES  TALE. 


S4» 


To  Rome  is  come  this  holy  creature, 
And  fyndeth  ther  hir  frendes  hole  and 

sounde:  1150 

Now  is  she  scaped  al  hir  aventure ; 
And  whan   that   she    hir    fader   hath    y- 

founde, 
Doun    on    hir     knees    falleth     she     to 

grounde; 
Weping  for  tendrenesse  in  herte  blythe, 
She   hcrieth  god    an   hundred   thousand 

sythe.  1 155 

Here  endcth  the  Tale  of  ihe  Man  of  Lawe; 


In  vertu  and  in  holy  almes-dede 

They   liven    alle,    and    never    a-sonder 

wende; 
Til  deeth  departed  hem,  this  lyf  they  lede. 
And  fareth  now  weel,  my  tale   is    at  an 

ende. 
Now  lesu  Crist,  that  of  his  might  may 

sende  11 60 

loye  after  wo,  governe  us  in  his  grace, 
And  kepe  us  alle  that  ben  in  this  place ! 

Amen. 
and  next  folweth  the  Shipniannes  Proiog. 


THE  SHIPMAN'S   PROLOGUE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Shipmannes  Prolog. 

OUK  hoste  up-on  his  stiropes  stood  anon. 

And  seyde,  '  good  men,  herkneth  everich 
on; 

This  was  a  thrifty  tale  for  the  nones !  1 165 

Sir   parish   prest,'   quod  he,  '  for  goddes 
bones, 

Tel  us  a  tale,  as  was  thy  forward  yore. 

I  see  wel  that  ye  lerned  men  in  lore 

Can  moche  good,  by  goddes  dignitee !  ' 
The    Persone   him  answerde,  ^  benedi- 
cite!  1 1 70 

What    eyleth    the    man,   so   sinfully   to 
swere  ? ' 
Our  hoste  answerde,  '  O  lankin,  be  ye 
there  ? 

I  smelle  a  loller  in  the  wind,'  quod  he. 

'  How  !  good  men,'  quod  our  hoste,  'herk- 
neth me; 


Abydeth,  for  goddes  digne  passioun,  1 1 75 

For  we  shal  han  a  predicacioun; 

This  loller   heer   wil    prechen   us   som- 

what.' 
'  Nay,  by  my  fader  soule  !  that  shal  be 

nat,' 
Seyed  the  Shipman;   'heer  he  shal  nat 

preche. 
He    shal    no    gospel     glosen    heer    ne 

teche.  1 1 80 

We  leve  alle  in  the  grete  god,'  quod  he, 
'  He  wolde  sowen  som  difficultee. 
Or  springen  cokkel  in  our  clene  corn; 
And  therfor,  hoste,  I  warne  thee  biforn, 
My  loly  body  shal  a  tale  telle,  1 185 

And  I  shal  clinken  yow  so  mery  a  belle, 
That  I  shal  waken  al  this  companye; 
But  it  shal  nat  lien  of  philosophye, 
Ne ///j'i/'V^,  ne  termes  queinte  of  lawe; 
Ther  is  but  litel  Latin  in  my  niavve.'  1 190 


Here  endeth  the  Shipman  his  Prolog 


THE  SHIPMANNES  TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Shipmannes  Tale, 

A  Makchant  whylom  dwelled  at  Seint 

Denys, 
That  riche  was,  fur  which  men  heldo  him 

wys; 
A  wyf  he  hadde  of  excellent  beautec. 
And    compaignable    and     revelous    was 

she. 


Which  is  a  thing  that  causeth  more  dis- 

pence  1195 

Than  worth  is  al  the  chcre  and  reverence 

That    men   hem   doon  at    festes    and   at 

daunces; 
Swiche  salutaciouns  and  contenaunces 
Passen  as  dooth  a  shadwe  up-on  the  wal. 
Put    wo    is    him    that    payen    moot    for 
al ;  1 200 


542 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1201-1274. 


The  sely  housbond,  algate  he  mot  paye; 
He    moot   us    clothe,    and   he   moot   us 

arraye, 
Al  for  his  owene  worship  richely, 
In  which  array  we  daunce  loHly. 
And   if    that   he  noght   may,   par-aven- 

ture,  1205 

Or  elles,  hst  no  swich  dispence  endure, 
But  thinketh  it  is  wasted  and  y-lost. 
Than  moot  another  payen  for  our  cost, 
Or  lene  us  gold,  and  that  is  perilous. 
This  noble  Marchant  heeld  a  worthy 

hous,  1 2 10 

For  which  he  hadde  alday  so  greet  re- 
pair 
For   his  largesse,  and   for   his  wyf  was 

fair. 
That   wonder   is ;    but   herkneth   to  my 

tale. 
Amonges    alle    his    gestes,    grete     and 

smale, 
Ther    was   a   monk,  a   fair  man   and   a 

bold,  1 215 

I  trowe  of  thritty  winter  he  was  old. 
That  ever  in  oon  was  drawing  to  that 

place. 
This  yonge   monk,  that  was  so   fair  of 

face, 
Aqueinted  was  so  with  the  gode  man, 
Sith  that  hir  hrste  knoweliche  bigan,  1 220 
That  in  his  hous  as  famulier  was  he 
As  it  possible  is  any  freend  to  be. 

And  for  as  muchel  as  this  gode  man 
And   eek    this   monk,  of  which   that  I 

bigan, 
Were  bothe  two  y-born  in  o  village,  1225 
The  monk  him  claimeth  as  for  cosinage  ; 
And  he  again,  he  seith  nat  ones  nay. 
But  was  as  glad  ther-of  as  fowel  of  day  ; 
For  to  his  herte  it  was  a  greet  plesaunce. 
Thus    been    they   knit  with    eterne    alli- 

aunce,  1230 

And  ech  of  hem  gan  other  for  tassure 
Of  bretherhede,  whyl   that   hir  lyf  may 

dure. 
Free  was  daun  lohn,  and  namely  of 

dispence. 
As  in  that  hous  ;    and  ful  of  diligence 
To  doon  plesaunce,  and  also  greet  cos- 

tage.  1235 

He  noght  forgat  to  yeve  the  leeste  page 
In  al  that  hous  ;    hut,  after  hir  degree. 
He  yaf  the  lord,  and  sitthe  al  his  meynee. 


When  that  he  cam,  som  maner  honest 

thing  ; 
For  which  they  were  as  glad  of  his  com- 
ing 1 240 
As  fowel  is  fayn,  whan  that  the  sonne 

up-ryseth. 
Na  more  of  this  as  now,  for  it  suffyseth. 
But  so  bifel,  this  marchant  on  a  day 
Shoop  him  to  make  redy  his  array 
Toward    the    toun    of    Brugges    for    to 

fare,  1 245 

To  byen  ther  a  porcioun  of  ware  ; 
For  which  he  hath  to  Paris  sent  anon 
A  messager,  and  preyed  hath  daun  John 
That  he  sholde  come  to  Seint  Denys  to 

pleye 
With    him   and  with  his  wyf  a  day  or 

tweye,  1 250 

Er  he  to  Brugges  wente,  in  alle  wyse. 
This  noble  monk,  of  which  I  yow  de- 

vyse, 
Hath  of  his  abbot,  as  him  list,  licence, 
By-cause  he  was  a  man  of  heigh  pru- 
dence. 
And  eek  an  officer,  out  for  to  ryde,   1255 
To    seen    hir   graunges    and    hir    hemes 

wyde ; 
And  un-to  Seint  Denys  he  comth  anon. 
Who  was  so  welcome  as  my  lord  daun 

lohn. 
Our  dere  cosin,  ful  of  curteisye  ? 
With  him  broghte  he  a  lubbe  of  Mal- 

vesye,  1260 

And  eek  another,  ful  of  fyn  Vernage, 
And  volatyl,  as  ay  was  his  usage. 
And  thus  I  lete  hem  ete  and  drinke  and 

pleye, 
This  marchant  and  this  monk,  a  day  or 

tweye. 
The  thridde  day,  this  marchant  up  arys- 

eth,  1265 

And  on  his  nedes  sadly  him  avyseth, 
And  up  in-to  his  countour-hous  goth  he 
To  rekene  with  him-self,  as  wel  may  be, 
Of  thilke    yeer,  how  that    it    with   him 

stood. 
And  how  that  he   despended  hadde  his 

good  ;  1270 

And  if  that  he  encressed  were  or  noon. 
His  bokes  and  his  bagges  many  oon 
He    leith   biforn    him   on    his    counting- 

bord  ; 
Ful  riche  was  his  tresor  and  his  hord, 


1275-1346.] 


B.    THE   SIIIPMANNES   TALE. 


543 


For  which  ful  faste  his  countour-dore  he 

shette  ;  1275 

And  eek  he  nuUle  tliat  no  man  sholde 

him  Ictte 
Of  his  accountes,  for  the  mene  tyme; 
Anil  thus  he  sit  til  it  was  passed  pryme. 
Daun    lohn   was  risen  in  the  morwe 

also, 
And    in    the    gardin    walketh    to    and 

fro,  1 280 

And  hath  his  thinges  seyd  ful  curteisly. 

This  gode  wyf  cam  walking  prively 
In-to  the  gardin,  ther  he  walketh  softe, 
And  him  saleweth,  as  she  hath   don  ofte. 
A  mayde  child  cam  in  hir  companye,  1285 
Which  as  hir  list  she  may  governe  and 

gye, 

For  yet  under  the  yerde  was  the  mayde. 
'O   dere   cosin   myn,    daun    lohn,'    she 

saytle, 
'  What  eyleth  yow  so  rathe  for  to  ryse  ? ' 
'  Nece,'    quod    he,    '  it    oghte    y-nough 

suffyse  1 290 

Fyve  houres  for  to  slepe  up-on  a  night. 
But  it  were  for  an  old  appalled  wight, 
As  been  thise  wedded  men,  that  lye  and 

dare 
As  in  a  forme  sit  a  wery  hare, 
Were  al  for-straught  with  houndes  grete 

and  smale.  1295 

But  dere  nece,  why  be  ye  so  pale  ? 
I  trowe  certes  that  our  gode  man 
I  lath  yow  laboured  sith  the  night  bigan. 
That  yow  were  nede  to  resten  hastily  ? ' 
And  with  that  word  he  lough  ful  merily. 
And   of  his  owene   thought  he  wex   al 

reed.  1 301 

This  faire  wyf  gan  for  to  shake  hir 

heed. 
And  seyde  thus,  '  ye,  god  wot  al,'  quod 

she; 
'Nay,  cosin    myn,   it  stant  nat   so  with 

me. 
For,  by  that  god  that  yaf  me  soule  and 

lyf,  1305 

In  al  the  reme  of  France  is  ther  no  wyf 
That  lasse  lust  hath  to  that  sory  pley. 
For  I   may  singe   "alias"   and   "  weyla- 

wey, 
That  I  was  born,"  liut  to  no  wight,'  quod 

she, 
'  Dar  I  nat  telle  how  that  it  stant  with 

me.  1310 


Wherfore   I   thinke  out  of  this  land  to 

wende, 
Or  elles  of  my-self  to  make  an  ende. 
So  ful  am  I  of  drede  and  eek  of  care.' 
This   monk  bigan    up-on    this   wyf  to 

stare, 
And   seyde,   '  alias,    my   nece,   god    for- 

bede  I 31 5 

That  ye,  for  any  sorwe  or  any  drede, 
Fordo    your-self;     but    telleth    me    your 

grief; 
Paraventure  I  may,  in  your  meschief, 
Conseille  or  helpe,  and   therfore   telleth 

me 
Al  your  anoy,  for  it  shal  been  secree ;  1 320 
For  on  my  porthors  here  I  make  an  oolh. 
That  never  in  my  lyf,  for  lief  ne  loolh, 
Ne  shal  I  of  no  conseil  yow  biwreye.' 
'The  same  agayn  to  yow,'  quod  she, 

'  I  seye; 
By   god   and    by   this    porthors,    I    yow 

swere,  1325 

Though    men   me  wolde  al  in-to  peces 

tere, 
Ne  shal  I  never,  for  to  goon  to  helle, 
Biwreye  a  word  of  thing  that  ye  me  telle, 
Nat  for  no  cosinage  ne  alliance. 
But  verraily,  for  love  and  affiance.'    1330 
Thus  been  they  sworn,  and    heer-upon 

they  kiste. 
And  ech  of  hem  tolde  other  what  hem 

liste. 
'Cosin,'  quod  she,  '  if  that  I  hadde  a 

space. 
As    I    have  noon,  and    namely  in  this 

place,  1334 

Than  wolde  I  telle  a  legende  of  my  lyf. 
What  I  have  suft'red  sith  I  was  a  wyf 
With   myn    housbonde,   al    be    he  your 

cosyn.' 
'Nay,' quod  this  monk,  'by  god  and 

seint  Martyn, 
He  is  na  mo*e  cosin  un-to  me 
Than  is  this    leef  that   hangeth   on   the 

tree !  1 340 

I    clepe    him    so,    by   Seint   Denys    of 

Fraunce, 
To  have  the  more  cause  of  aciueintaunce 
Of  yow,  which  1  have  loved  specially 
Aboven  alle  wommen  sikerly; 
This  swere  I  yow  on  my  professioun. 
Telleth    your  grief,    lest   that    he    come 

adoun,  1346 


544 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1347-1417. 


And  hasteth    yow,  and  gooth  your  wey 

anon.' 
'  My  dere  love,'  quod   she, '  o  my  daun 

lohn, 
Ful  lief  were  me  this  conseil  for  to  hyde, 
But  out  it  moot,  I  may  namore  abyde. 
Myn  housbond  is  to  me  the  vvorste  man 
That  ever  was,  sith  that  the  world  bigan. 
But  sith  I  am  a  wyf,  it  sit  nat  me 
To  tellen  no  wight  of  our  privetee, 
Neither  a  bedde,  ne  in  non  other  place; 
God    shilde  I    sholde    it    tellen,    for    his 

grace!  1356 

A  wyf  ne  shal  nat  seyn  of  hir  housbonde 
But  al  honour,  as  I  can  understonde; 
Save  un-to  yow  thus  muche  I  tellen  shal; 
As  help  me  god,  he   is  noght  worth  at 

al  1360 

In  no  degree  the  value  of  a  flye. 
But  yet  me  greveth  most  his  nigardye; 
And  wel  ye  woot  that  wommen  naturelly 
Desyren  thinges  sixe,  as  wel  as  I. 
They  wolde  that  hir  housbondes  sholde 

be  1365 

Hardy,  and  wyse,  and  riche,  and  ther-to 

free, 
And  buxom  to  his  wyf,  and  fresh  a-bedde. 
But,  by  that  ilke  lord  that  for  us  bledde, 
For  his  honour,  my-self  for  to  arraye, 
A  Sonday  next,  I  moste  nedes  paye   1 370 
An  hundred  frankes,  or  elles  am  I  lorn. 
Yet  were  me  lever  that  I  were  unborn 
Than    me    were    doon    a   sclaundre   or 

vileinye; 
And   if  myn   housbond    eek   it   mighte 

espye, 
I  nere  but  lost,  and  therfore  I  yow  preye 
Lene  me   this  somme,   or  elles   moot   I 

deye.  1376 

Daun  lohn,  I  seye,  lene  me  thise  hun- 
dred frankes; 
Pardee,  I  wol  nat  faille  yow  my  thankes. 
If  that    yow   list   to   doon    that    I   yow 

praye. 
For  at  a  certein  day  I  wol  yow  paye, 
And  doon  to  yow    what    plesance  and 

servyce  .  1381 

That   I    may    doon,    right    as  yow   list 

devyse. 
And   but   I   do,   god    take    on  me  ven- 
geance 
As     foul    as     ever    had     Geniloun     of 

France ! ' 


This    gentil    monk   answerde   in  this 

manere;  ^3^5 

'  Now,  trewely,  myn  owene  lady  dere, 
I   have,'  quod    he,  'on    yow  so  greet  a 

routhe. 
That  I  yow  swere  and  plighte  yow  my 

trouthe. 
That  whan  your  housbond  is  to  Flaun- 

dres  fare, 
I  wol  delivere  yow  out  of  this  care;  1390 
For    I    wol     bringe    yow    an    hundred 

frankes.' 
And   with  that  word  he  caughte  hir  by 

the  flankes, 
And  hir  embraceth  harde,  and  kiste  hir 

ofte. 
'  Goth  now  your  wey,'  quod  he,  '  al  stille 

and  softe. 
And  lat  us  dyne  as  sone  as  that  ye  may; 
For  by  my  chilindre  it  is  pryme  of  day. 
Goth  now,  and  beeth  as  trewe  as  I  shal 

be.' 
'  Now,    elles  god  forbede,  sire,'  quod 

she, 
And  forth  she  gooth,  as  lolif  as  a  pye. 
And  bad  the  cokes  that  they  sholde  hem 

hye,  1400 

So  that  men  mighte  dyne,  and  that  anon. 
Up  to  hir  housbonde  is  this  wyf  y-gon, 
And  knokketh  at  his  countour  boldely. 

'  Qui  la  ?  '  quod  he.     '  Peter  !  it  am  I,' 
Quod  she,  '  what,  sire,  how  longe  wol  ye 

faste?  1405 

How  longe    tyme   wol    ye    rekene   and 

caste 
Your  sommes,  and  your  bokes,  and  your 

thinges? 
The  devel  have  part  of  alle  swiche  reken- 

inges ! 
Ye  have    y-nough,    pardee,    of  goddes 

sonde; 
Come  doun  to-day,  and  lat  your  bagges 

stonde.  1410 

Ne  be  ye  nat  ashamed  that  daun  lohn 
Shal  fasting  al  this  day  elenge  goon? 
What !    lat  us  here  a  messe,  and  go  we 

dyne.' 
'  Wyf,'  quod  this  man,  '  litel   canstow 

devyne 
The  curious  bisinesse  that  we  have.   141 5 
For  of  us  chapmen,  al-so  god  me  save, 
And  by  that  lord  that  cleped   is   Seint 

Yve, 


1418-1496.] 


B.    THE   SHirMANNES  TALE. 


545 


Scarsly  anionfjes  twelve  ten  shul  thryve, 

Continuelly,  lastinge  un-to  our  age. 

We    may    wel  make    chere    and    good 

visage,  1420 

And  ilryve  forth  the  world  as  it  may  be, 
And  kepen  our  estaat  in  privetee. 
Til  we  be  deed,  or  elles  that  we  pleye 
A  pilgrimage,  or  goon  out  of  the  weye. 
And  therfor  have  I  greet  necessitee  1425 
Up-on  this  qucinte  world  tavyse  me; 
For  evermore  we  mote  stonde  in  drede 
Of  hap  and  fortune  in  our  chapmanhede. 
To  Flaundres  wol    I  go  to-morwe  at 

day. 
And  come  agayn,  as  sone  as  ever  I  may. 
For  which,  my  dere  wyf,  I  thee  biseke, 
As  be  to  every  wight  buxom  and  meke. 
And  for  to  kepe  our  good  be  curious, 
And  honestly  governe  wel  our  hous. 
Thou    hast    y-nough,    in    every    maner 

wyse,  1435 

That  to  a  tlirifty  houshold  may  suffyse. 
Thee  lakketh  noon  array  ne  no  vitaille. 
Of  silver  in  thy  purs  shallow  nat  faille.' 
And  with  that  word  his  countour-dore  he 

shette. 
And  doun  he  gooth,  ne  lenger  wolde  he 

lette,  1440 

Cut  hastily  a  messe  wasther  seyd. 
And  spedily  the  tallies  were  y-leyd. 
And  to  thedmer  faste  they  hem  spedde; 
And    richely    this    monk    the    chapman 

fedde. 
At-after  diner  daun  lohn  solirely  1445 
This  chapman  took  a-part,  and  prively 
He  seyde  him  thus,  '  cosyn,  it  standeth 

so, 
That  wel  I  see  to  Brugges  wol  ye  go. 
God  and   seint    Austin    spede  yow  and 

gyde ! 
I  prey  yow,  cosin,  wysly  that  ye  ryde; 
(joverneth  yow  also  of  your  diete       1451 
Atcmprely,  and  namely  in  this  hete. 
Bitwix  us  two  nedeth  no  strange  fare; 
Fare-wel,  cosyn;    god    shilde    yow     fro 

care. 
If  any  thing  ther  be  by  day  or  night. 
If  it  lye  in  my  power  and  my  might,  1456 
That  yc  me  wol  comande  in  any  wyse. 
It  shal  he  doon,  right  as  ye  wol  devysc. 
C)  thing,  cr  that  ye  goon,  if  it  may  i)e, 
1  woldc  prey  yow;    for  to  lene  me      1460 
An  hundrcil  frankes,  for  a  wyke  or  tweye, 
2  N 


For  certein  beestes  tliat  I  moste  bcye. 
To  store  with  a  place  that  is  oures. 
Clod  help  me  so,  I  wokle  it  were  youres ! 
I  shal  nat  faille  surcdy  of  my  day,      1465 
Nat  for  a  thousand  frankes,  a  myle-way. 
But  lat    this    thing    be    secree,    I    yow 

preye, 
For  yet    to-night  thise  beestes  moot  I 

beye; 
And   fare-now    wel,    myn   owene    cosin 

dere, 
Graunt  mercy  of  your  cost  and  of  your 

chere.'  1470 

This  noble  marchant  gentilly  anon 
Answerde,  and  seyde, '  o  cosin  myn,  daun 

lohn. 
Now  sikerly  this  is  a  smal  requeste; 
My   gold   is   youres,  whan    that  it   yow 

leste. 
And    nat   only  my   gold,  but    my   chaf- 

fare;  I475 

Take  what  yow  list,  god  shilde  that  ye 

spare. 
But  o  thing  is,  ye  knowe  it  wel  y-nogh, 
Of    chapmen,    that    hir    moneye    is    hir 

plogh. 
We  may  creaunce  whyl  we  have  a  name. 
But  goldlees  for  to  be,  it  is  no  game.  14S0 
Paye  it  agayn  whan  it  lyth  in  your  ese; 
After  my  might   ful   fayn  wolde  I  yow 

plese.' 
Thise  hundred  frankes  he  fette  forth 

anon. 
And  prively  he  took  hem  to  daun  lohn. 
No  wight  in  al  this  world  wiste  of  this 

lone,  1485 

Savinge  this  marchant   and   daun    lohn 

allone. 
They   drinke,    and    speke,   and    rome    a 

whyle  and  pleye, 
Til  that  daun  John  rydeth  to  his  alibeye. 
The  morwe  cam,  and  forth  this  mar- 
chant rydeth 
To  Flaundres-ward;   his  prentis  wel  him 

gydeth,  1490 

Til  he  cam  in -to  Brugges  merily. 
Now  gooth  this  marchant  faste  and  bisily 
Aboute  his  nede,  and  byeth  and  creaun- 

ceth. 
He  neither  pleyeth  at  the  dees  ne  daun- 

ceth ; 
But  as  a  marchant,  shortly  for  to  telle,  1495 
He  let  his  lyf,  and  there  1  lete  him  dwelle. 


546 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[I497-I570- 


The  Sonday  next   this    Marchant  was 

agon, 
To  Seint  Denys  y-comen  is  daun  lohn, 
With  crowne  and  herd  all  fresh  and  newe 

y-shave. 
In   al    the    hous    ther    nas    so    litel    a 

knave,  1500 

Ne  no  wight  elles,  that  he  nas  ful  fayn, 
For  that  my  lord  daun  lohn  was  come 

agayn. 
And  shortly  to  the  point  right  for  to  gon, 
This  faire  wyf  accorded  with  daun  lohn, 
That  for  thise  hundred  frankes  he  sholde 

al  night  1505 

Have  hir  in  his  armes  bolt-upright; 
And  this  acord  parfourned  was  in  dede. 
In  mirthe  al  night  a  bisy  lyf  they  lede 
Til  it  was  day,  that  daun  lohn  wente  his 

way, 
And  bad  the  meynee  '  fare-wel,  have  good 

day!'  15 10 

For  noon  of  hem,  ne  no  wight  in  the 

toun. 

Hath  of  daun  John  right  no  suspecioun. 

And  forth  he  rydeth  hoom  to  his  ahbeye. 

Or  where  him  list;  namore  of  him  I  seye. 

This  marchant,  whan  that  ended  was 

the  faire,  1 5 15 

To  Seint  Denys  he  gan  for  to  repaire, 
And  with  his  wyf  he  maketh  feste  and 

chere. 
And  tcUeth  hir  that  chaffare  is  so  dere, 
That  nedes  moste  he  make  a  chevisaunce. 
Forhe  wasbounde  in  a  reconissaunce  1520 
To  paye  twenty  thousand  sheeld  anon. 
For  which  this  marchant  is  to  Paris  gon, 
To   borwe   of    certein    frendes   that    he 

hadde 
A  certein  frankes;  and  somme  with  him 

he  ladde. 
And  whan  that  he  was  come  in-to  the 

toun,  1525 

For  greet  chertee  and  greet  affeccioun, 
Un-to  daun  John  he  gooth  him  first,  to 

pleye; 
Nat  for  to  axe  or  borwe  of  him  moneye. 
But  for  to  wite  and  seen  of  his  welfare, 
And  for  to  tellen  him  of  his  chaffare,  1530 
As  freendes    doon  whan    they  ben    met 

y-fere. 
Daun  lohn  him  maketh  feste  and  mery 

chere; 
And  he  him  tolde  agayn  ful  specially, 


How   he   hadde  wel   y-boght   and   gra- 
ciously. 
Thanked  be  god,  al  hool  his  marchan- 

dyse.  1535 

Save  that  he  moste,  in  alle  maner  wyse, 
Maken  a  chevisaunce,  as  for  his  beste. 
And  thanne  he  sholde  been  in  loye  and 

reste. 
Daun   lohn   answerde,  *  certes,  I   am 

fayn 
Thatyeinhelearcomen  hoom  agayn.  1540 
And  if  that  I  were  riche,  as  have  I  blisse, 
Of  twenty  thousand  sheeld  shold  ye  nat 

misse. 
For  ye  so  kindely  this  other  day 
Lente  me  gold;    and  as  I  can  and  may, 
I    thanke    yow,    by   god    and    by   seint 

lame!  1545 

But  nathelees  I  took  un-to  our  dame, 
Your  wyf  at  hoom,  the  same  gold  ageyn 
Upon  your  bench ;  she  woot  it  wel,  cer- 

teyn, 
By  certein  tokenes  that  I  can  hir  telle. 
Now,  by   your   leve,    I    may   no   lenger 

dwelle,  1550 

Our  abbot  vvol  out  of  this  toun  anon; 
And  in  his  companye  moot  I  gon. 
Crete  wel  our  dame,  myn   owene  nece 

swete. 
And  fare-vi'el,  dere  cosin,  til  we  mete  ! ' 
This  Marchant,  which  that  was  ful  war 

and  wys,  1555 

Creaunced  hath,  and  payd  eek  in  Parys, 
To  certeyn  Lumbardes,  redy  in  hir  hond. 
The  somme  of  gold,  and  gat  of  hem  his 

bond; 
And  hoom  he  gooth,  mery  as  a  papeiay. 
For   wel   he   knew   he  stood    in    swich 

array,  1 560 

That  nedes  moste  he  winne  in  that  viage 
A  thousand  frankes  above  al  his  costage. 

His  wyf  ful  redy  mette  him  atte  gate, 
As  she  was  wont  of  old  usage  algate. 
And    al    that    night     in     mirthe    they 

bisette;  1565 

For  he  was  riche  and  cleerly  out  of  dette. 
Whan  it  was  day,  this  marchant  gan  em- 
brace 
His  wyf  al  newe,  and  kiste  hir  on  hir 

face, 
And  up  he  gooth  and  maketh  it  ful  tough. 
'  Namore,'  quod  she,  '  by  god,  ye  have 

y-nough!'  1570 


I57I-I634.] 


B.    THE   PRIORESS'S    PROLOGUE. 


547 


And    wantounly    agayn    with    him    she 

plcyde; 
Til,  attc  lastc,  that  this  Marchant  scydc, 
'  By  gi)d,'  ([Uud  he,  '  I  am  a  litel  wrooth 
With  yow,  my  wyf,    al-thogh    it    be    mc 

louth. 
And  woot  ye  why?  by   god,    as   that    I 

gesse,  1575 

That  ye  han  maad  a  manor  stiaungenesse 
Bitwixcn  mc  and  my  cosyn  daun  lohn. 
Ye  sliolde  han  warned  nie,  er  I  had  gon, 
That  he  yow  hadde  an  hundred  frankes 

payed 
By   redy    tokene;    and   heeld   him   yvel 

apayed,  15S0 

For  tliat  I  to  him  spak  of  chevisaunce, 
Me  semed  so,  as  by  his  contenaunce. 
But  nathelees,  by  god  our  hevene  king, 
I  thoghte  nat  to  axe  of  him  no-thing. 
I  prey  thee,  wyf,  ne  do  namore  so;    1585 
Tel  me  alwey,  er  that  I  fro  thee  go. 
If  any  dettour  hath  in  myn  absence 
Y-payed  thee;  lest,  thurgh  thy  necligence, 
I  mighte  him  axe  a  thing  that  he  hath 

payed.' 
This  wyf  was  nat  afered  nor  affrayed. 
But  boldely  she  seyde,  and  that  anon  : 
'  Marie,  I  defye  the    false    monk,  daun 

John! 
I  kepe  nat  of  hise  tokenes  never  a  deel; 
He  took  me  certein  gold,  that   woot    I 

weel ! 
What !     yvel    thedom    on    his    monkes 

snoute !  '595 

For,  god    it  woot,    I    wende,    withouten 

doute, 

Here  endetJi  the 


That  he  had  ycve  it  me  liycause  of  yow, 
To  doon  ther-with  myn  honour  and  my 

prow. 
For  cosinage,  and  eek  for  bele  chere 
That  he  hath  had  ful  ofte  tymeshere.  1600 
But  sith  I  see  I  stontle  in  this  disioint, 
I  wol  answere  yow  shortly,  to  the  pt)int. 
Ye  han  mo  slakker  dcttours  than  am  I ! 
For  I  wol  paye  yow  wel  and  redily 
Fro  day  to  day;  and,  if  so  be  I  faille,  1605 
I  am  your  wyf;    score  it  up-on  my  taille. 
And  I  shal  paye,  as  sone  as  ever  I  may. 
For,  by  my  trouthc,  I  have  on  myn  array. 
And  nat  on  wast,  bistowed  every  deel. 
And  for  I  have  bistowed  it  so  weel    1610 
For  your  honour,  for  goddcs  sake,  I  seye, 
As  be  nat  wrooth,  but  lat  us  laughe  and 

pleye. 
Ye  shal  my  loly  body  have  to  wedde; 
By  god,  I  wol  nat  paye  yow  but  a-bedde. 
Forgive  it  me,  myn  owene  spouse  dere; 
Turne    hiderward     and     maketh    bettre 

chere.'  1616 

This    marchant    saugh    ther    was    no 

remedye. 
And,  for  to  chyde,  it  nerc  but  greet  folye, 
Sith  that  the  thing  may  nat  amended  be. 
'  Now,  wyf,'  he  seyde,  '  and  I  foryeve  it 
thee  ;  1620 

But,  by  thy  lyf,  ne  be  namore  so  large  ; 
Keep  bet  our  good,  this  yeve  I  thee  in 

charge.' 
Thus  endeth  now  my  tale,  and  god  us 

sende 
Taling   y-nough    un-to   our   lyves   ende. 

Amen. 
Shipmannes    Tale. 


THE   PRIORESS'S   PROLOGUE. 


Bihold  the  niery  wordes  of  the  Jlost  to 
the  Shipman  and  to  the  lady  Prioresse. 

'Wel  seyd,  by  corpus  doininns^  quod 
our  hoste,  1*^25 

'Now  longe  moot  thou  sayle  by  the 
coste, 

Sir  gentil  maister,  gentil  marineer  ! 

(jod  yeve  this  monk  a  thousand  last  (juad 
yeer ! 


A  ha !  felawes !  beth  ware  of  swiche  a 

I  ape  ! 
The  monk  putte  in  the  mannes  hood  an 

ape,  1630 

And  in  his  wyves  eek,  by  seint  Austin  ! 
Draweth  no  monkes  more  un-to  your  in. 
ISut   now  passe  over,  and  lat  us  seke 

aboute. 
Who    shal    now    telle    first,    of    al    this 

route. 


548 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1635-1695. 


Another  tale;  '  and  with   that  word    he 
sayde,  1035 

As  curteisly  as  it  had  been  a  mayde, 
'  My  lady  Prioresse,  by  your  leve, 
So  that  I  wiste  I  sholde  yow  nat  greve, 


I  wolde  demen  that  ye  tellen  sholde 
A  tale  next,  if  so  were  that  ye  wolde. 
Now  vvol  ye  vouche-sauf,  my  lady  dere  ?  ' 
'  Gladly,'    quod  she,  and  seyde  as  ye 
shal  here. 


Explicit. 


THE   PRIORESSES  TALE. 


The  Prologe  of  the  Prioresses  Tale. 
Domine,  dotninns  noster. 

O  LORD  our   lord,  thy  name  how  mer- 

veillous 
Is  in  this  large   worlde  y-sprad  —  quod 

she  :  — 
For  noght  only  thy  laude  precious     1645 
Parfourned  is  by  men  of  dignitee, 
But  by  the  mouth  of  children  thy  bountee 
Parfourned  is,  for  on  the  brest  soukinge 
Som  tyme  shewen  they  thyn  heryinge. 

Wherfor    in   laude,    as    I    best    can   or 
may,  1650 

Of  thee,  and  of  the  whyte  lily  flour 
Which  that  thee  bar,  and  is  a  mayde  alway, 
To  telle  a  storie  I  wol  do  my  labour  ; 
Not  that  I  may  encresen  hir  honour  ; 
For  she  hir-self  is  honour,  and  the  rote 
Of  bountee,  next  hir   sone,  and  soules 
bote.  —  1656 

O  moder  mayde  !  O  mayde  moder  free  ! 
O    bush   unbrent,  brenninge  in   Moyses 

sighte. 
That  ravisedest  doun  fro  the  deitee, 
Thurgh  thyn  humblesse,  the  goost  that  in 

thalighte,  1660 

Of  whos  vertu,  whan  he  thyn  herte  lighte. 
Conceived  was  the  fadres  sapience. 
Help  me  to  telle  it  in  thy  reverence  ! 

Lady !  thy  bountee,  thy  magnificence. 
Thy  vertu,  and  thy  grete  humilitee     1665 
Ther  may  no  tonge  expresse  in  no  sci- 
ence ; 
For  som-tyme,  lady,  er  men  praye  to  thee, 
Thou  goost  biforn  of  thy  benignitee, 


And    getest    us    the    light,   thurgh    thy 

preyere. 
To  gyden  us  un-to  thy  sone  so  dere.  1670 

My  conning  is  so  wayk,  O  blisful  quene, 
For  to  declare  thy  grete  vvorthinesse. 
That  I  ne  may  the  weighte  nat  sustene, 
But  as  a  child  of  twelf  monthe  old,  or. 

lesse. 
That  can  unnethes  any  word  expresse. 
Right  so  fare  L  and  therfor  I  yow  preye, 
Gydeth  my  song  that  I  shal  of  yow  seye. 
Explicit. 

Here  biginneth  the  Prioresses   Tale. 

Ther  was  in  Asie,  in  a  greet  citee, 
Amonges  Cristen  folk,  a  lewerye, 
Sustened  by  a  lord  of  that  contree     1680 
For  foule  usure  and  lucre  of  vilanye, 
Hateful  to  Crist  and  to  his  companye; 
And  thurgh  the  strete  men  mighte  ryde 

or  wende, 
For  it  was  free,  and  open  at  either  ende. 

A  litel  scole  of  Cristen  folk  ther  stood 
Doun  at  the  ferther  ende,  in  which  ther 

were  1686 

Children   an   heep,   y-comen  of  Cristen 

blood. 
That  lerned  in  that  scole  year  by  yere 
Swich  maner  doctrine  as  men  used  there. 
This  is  to  seyn,  to  singen  and  to  rede, 
As  smale  children  doon  in  hir  childhede. 

Among  thise  children  was  a  widwessone, 
A  litel  clergeon,  seven  yeer  of  age, 
That  day  by  day  to  scole  was  his  wone, 
And     eek      also,     wher-as      he      saugh 
thimage  1695 


1 696- 1 766.] 


B.    THE   PRIORESSES  TALE. 


549 


Of  Cristes  moder,  haddc  lie  in  usa<;<*, 
As  him  was  taught,  to   kiicle  adouii   and 

scye 
His  Az'c'  Marie,  as  he  goth  by  the  weyc. 

Thus    hath    this    widwe    hir   litcl   st)nc 

y-taught 
Our  bhsful  lady,  Cristes  moder  dere,  1700 
To  worshipc  ay,  and  he  forgat  it  naught, 
For  sely  chilii  wol  alday  sonc  lere; 
15ut  ay,  whan  I  rcnienihre  on  this  matcre, 
Seint  Nicholas  stant  ever  in  my  presence, 
For  he  so  yong  to  Crist  did  rever- 
ence. 1705 

This  litel  child,  his  litel  book  lerninge, 
As  he  sat  in  the  scole  at  his  prymer, 
lie  Alma  ndeinptoris  herde  singe. 
As  children  lerned  hir  antiphoner; 
And,  as  he  dorste,  he  drough  him  ncr  and 
ner,  1710 

And  herkned  ay  the  wordes  and  the  note, 
Till  he  the  tirste  vers  coude  al  by  rote. 

Noght  wiste  he  what  this  Latin  was  to 

seye, 
For  he  so  yong  and  tendre  was  of  age; 
But     on    a    day     his     felaw     gan      he 

preye  1715 

Texpounden  him  this  song  in  his  langage, 
Or    telle    him   why   this    song    was    in 

usage ; 
This    preyde    he  him   to    construe   and 

declare 
Ful  ofte  tyme  upon  his  knovves  bare. 

His  felaw,  which   that   elder   was  than 

he,  1720 

Answerde  him  thus  :   '  this  song,  I  have 

herd  seye. 
Was  niaked  of  our  blisful  lady  free, 
Hir  to  salue,  and  eek  hir  for  to  preye 
To  been  our  help  and  socour  whan  we 

deye. 
I    can     no     more     expounde     in     this 

matere;  1725 

I  lerne  song,  I  can  but  smal  grammere.' 

And  is  this  song  maked  in  reverence 
Of  Cristes  moder?  '  seyde  this  innocent; 
'  Now  certes,  I  wol  do  my  diligence 
To    conne     it     al,    er     Cristemasse     is 
went;  173° 


Though  that    1    for  my    prymer    shal    be 

shent. 
And  shal  be  l)eten  thryes  in  an  houre, 
I  wol  it  conne,  our  lady  for  to  honoure.' 

His  felaw  taughte  him  homward   prively. 
Fro    day    to    day,    til   he    coude    it    by 

rote,  1735 

And  than  he  song  it  wel  and  boldely 
Fro    word    to  word,    acording  with  the 

note ; 
Twyes  a  day  it  jiassed  thurgh  his  throte. 
To    scoleward    and    homward    whan    he 

wente; 
On      Cristes      moder      set       was      his 

entente.  1740 

As  I  have  seyd,  thurgh-out  the  lewerye 
This  litel  child,  as  he  cam  to  and  fro, 
Ful  merily  than  wolde  he  singe,  and  crye 

0  Alma  redemptoris  ever-mo. 

The    swetnes    hath    his    herte     perced 

so  1745 

Of  Cristes  moder,  that,  to  hir  to  preye, 
He  can  nat  stinte  of  singing  by  the  weye. 

Our  firste  fo,  the  serpent  Sathanas, 
That  hath  in  lewes  herte  his  waspes  nest, 
Up  swal,  and   seide,  '  o  Hebraik  peple, 

alias!  1750 

Is  this  to  yow  a  thing  that  is  honest, 
That  swich  a  boy  shal  walken  as  him  lest 
In    your    despyt,   and    singe    of    swich 

sentence, 
.  Which  is  agayn  your  lawes  reverence? ' 

Fro  thennes  forth  the  lewes  han  con- 
spyred  1755 

This  innocent  out  of  this  world  to  chace; 

An  homicyde  ther-to  han  they  hyred, 

That  in  an  aley  hadde  a  privee  place; 

And  as  the  child  gan  for-by  for  to  pace. 

This  cursed  lew  him  hente  and  heeld 
him  faste,  1760 

And  kitte  his  throte,  and  in  a  pit  him 
caste. 

1  seye  that  in  a  wardrobe  they  him  threwe 
Wher-as  these  lewes  purgen  hir  entraille. 
O  cursed  folk  of  Herodes  al  newe. 
What     may    your     yvel     entente     yow 

availle?  1765 

Mordre  wol  out,  certein,  it  wol  nat  faille. 


550 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1767-1835. 


And   namely  ther   thonour  of  god  shal 

sprede, 
The    blood  out    cryeth   on   your   cursed 

dede. 

'  O  martir,  souded  to  virginitee, 

Now  maystou    singen,    folwing    ever  in 

con  1770 

The  whyte  lamb  celestial,'  quod  she, 
'Of  which    the    grete    evangehst,    seint 

lohn, 
In  Pathmos  wroot,  which  seith  that  they 

that  goon 
Biforn  this   lamb,  and  singe  a   song  al 

newe, 
That   never,    fleshly,    wommen  they  ne 

knewe.'  1775 

This  povre  widwe  awaiteth  al  that  night 
After  hir  lilel  child,  but  he  cam  noght; 
For  which,  as  sone  as  it  was  dayes  light. 
With  face  pale  of  drede  and  bisy  thoght. 
She   hath   at   scole   and    elles-wher  him 
soght,  1780 

Til  finally  she  gan  so  fer  espye 
That  he  last  seyn  was  in  the  lewerye. 

With  modres  pitee  in  hir  brest  enclosed. 

She  gooth,  as  she  were  half  out  of  hir 
minde, 

To  every  place  wher  she  hath  sup- 
posed 1785 

By  lyklihede  hir  litel  child  to  finde; 

And  ever  on  Cristes  moder  nieke  and 
kinde 

She  cryde,  and  atte  laste  thus  she 
wroghte, 

Among  the  cursed  lewes  she  him  soghte. 

She    frayneth    and     she     preyeth     pit- 

ously  1790 

To  every  lew  that  dwelte  in  thilke  place, 

To  telle    hir,  if   hir    child    wente    oght 

for -by. 
They  seyde,  '  nay ' ;  but  lesu,  of  his  grace, 
Yaf  in  hir  thought,  inwith  a  litel  space. 
That   in   that   place    after    hir  sone  she 
cryde,  1795 

Wher  he  was  casten  in  a  pit  bisyde. 

O  grete  god,  that  parfournest  thy  laude 
By   mouth    of    innocents,    lo    heer    thy 
might ! 


This  gemme  of  chastitee,  this  emeraude, 
And     eek      of     martirdom     the       ruby 
bright,  1800 

Ther  he  with  throte  y-corven  lay  upright, 
He  '  Alma  redernptoris''  gan  to  singe 
So  loude,  that  al  the  place  gan  to  ringe. 

The  Cristen  folk,  that  thurgh  the  strete 

wente, 
In   coomen,   for   to    wondre   up-on  this 

thing,  1805 

And  hastily  they  for  the  provost  sente; 
He  cam  anon  with-outen  tarying, 
And  herieth  Crist  that  is  of  heven  king, 
And  eek  his  moder,  honour  of  mankinde, 
And    after     that,    the    lewes     leet     he 

binde.  1810 

This  child  with  pitous  lamentacioun 
Up-taken  was,  singing  his  song  alway; 
And  with  honour  of  greet  processioun 
They  carien  him  un-to  the  nexte  abbay. 
His    moder    swowning     by     the     here 
lay;  1815 

Unnethe  might  the  peple  that  was  there 
This  newe  Rachel  bringe  fro  his  bere. 

With  torment   and    with    shamful  deth 

echon 
This  provost  dooth   thise   lewes   for   to 

sterve 
That    of    this    mordre    wiste,    and   that 

anon;  1820 

He  nolde  no  swich  cursednesse  observe. 
Yvel  shal  have,  that  yvel  wol  deserve. 
Therfor   with   wilde   hors   he   dide  hem 

drawe, 
And  after  that  he  heng  hem  by  the  lawe. 

Up-on  his  bere  ay  lyth  this  innocent 
Biforn  the  chief  auter,  vvhyl  masse  laste. 
And  after  that,  the  abbot  with  his  covent 
Han  sped  hem  for  toburien  him  ful  faste; 
And  whan  they  holy  water  on  him  caste. 
Yet  spak  this   child,  whan  spreynd  was 

holy  water,  1830 

And     song  —  '  O     Alma     redernptoris 

mater  ! ' 

This  abbot,  which  that  was  an  holy  man 
As  monkes  been,  or  elles  oghten  be. 
This  yonge  child  to  coniure  he  bigan. 
And  seyde,  'o  dere  child,  I  halse  thee, 


1836-1896.] 


B.     PROLOGUE  TO   SIR  THOPAS. 


55» 


In  vertu  of  the  huly  Trinitee,  1836 

Tell  me  what  is  thy  cause  for  to  binge, 
Sith  that  thy  throte  is  cut,  to  myseminge? ' 

'  My  throte  is  cut  un-to  my  nekke-boon,' 
Seyde   tliis    child,    'and,   as   by   wey  of 

kinde,  1840 

I  sholde  have  deycd,  ye,  longe  tyme  agoon. 
But  lesu  Crist,  as  ye  in  bokcs  findc, 
Wil  that  hisglorie  laste  and  be  in  minde, 
And,  for  the  worship  of  his  moder  dere. 
Yet  may  1  singe  "  O  Alma  "  loude  and 

clere.  1845 

This  welle  of  mercy,  Cristas  moder  swete, 
I  lovede  alwey,  as  after  my  conninge; 
And  whan  that  I  my  lyf  sho'de  forlete, 
To  me  she  cam,  and  bad  me  for  to  singe 
This  antein  verraily  in  my  deyinge,   1850 
As  ye  han  herd,  and,  whan  that  I  had 

songe, 
Me  thoughte,  she  leyde  a  greyn    up-on 

my  tonge. 

Wherfor  I  singe,  and  singe  I  moot  certeyn 
In  honour  of  that  Ijlisful  niayden  free, 
Til  fro  my  tonge  of-taken  is  the  greyn; 
Anil  afterward  thus  seyde  she  to  me,  1856 
"  My  litcl  child,  now  wol  I  fecche  thee 
Whan  that  the  greyn  is  fro  thy  tonge 

y-lake; 
Be  nat  agast,  I  wol  thee  nat  forsake."  ' 

Here  is  ended  the 


This  holy   monk,  this   abbot,  him   meiie 

I,  i860 

His  tonge  out-caughte,  and  took  a-wey 

the  greyn. 
And  he  yaf  up  the  goost  ful  softely. 
And  whan  this  abbot  had  this  wonder 

seyn. 
His  sake  teres  trikled  doun  as  reyn. 
And    gruf    he    fil    al    plat    up-on     the 

grounde,  1865 

And  stille  he  lay  as  he  had  been  y-bounde. 

The  covent  eek  lay  on  the  pavement 
Weping,  and  herien  Cristes  moder  dere, 
And  after  that  they  ryse,  and  forth  ben 

went, 
And    toke    awey    this    martir    fro     his 

here,  1870 

And  in  a  tombe  of  marbul-stones  clere 
Enclosen  they  his  litel  body  swete; 
Ther    he    is   now,   god    leve    us    for    to 

mete. 

O  yonge  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  slayn  also 
With  cursed  lewes,  as  it  is  notable,  1S75 
For  it  nis  but  a  litel  whyle  ago; 
Preye   eek    for    us,    we    sinful    folk    un- 
stable. 
That,  of  his  mercy,  god  so  merciable 
On  us  his  grete  mercy  multiplye, 
For    reverence    of    his    moder    Marye. 
Amen.  1880 

Prioresses  Tale. 


PROLOGUE  TO   SIR  THOPAS. 


Bihold  Vie  tnurye  wordes  of  the  Host  to 
Chancer, 

Whan  seyd  was  al  this  miracle,  every 

man 
As  sobre  was,  that  wonder  was  to  se, 
Til  that  our  hoste  lapen  tho  bigan, 
And  than  at  erst  he  loked  up-on  me. 
And   seyde    thus,    '  what   man    artow  ? ' 

quod  he;  1885 

'  Thou  lokest  as  thou  woldest  finde  an 

hare, 
For  ever  up-on  the  ground  I  see  thee 

stare. 


Approche  neer,  and  loke  up  merily. 
Now  war  yow,  sirs,  and  lat  this  man  have 

place; 
He  in  the  waast  is  shape  as  wel  as  I;  1890 
This  were  a  popet  in  an  arm  tenbrace 
For    any    womman,   smal    and    fair    of 

face. 
He  semeth  elvish  by  his  contenaunce. 
For  un-to  no  wight  dooth  he  daliaunce. 

Sey  now  somwhat,  sin  other  folk  han 
sayd;  1895 

Tel  us  a  tale  of  mirthe,  and  that 
anoon;' — 


552 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1897-1970. 


*  Hoste,'    quod    I,    '  ne    bcth    nat    y vel 

aj^ayd, 
For  other  tale  certes  can  I  noon, 
But  of  a  ryme  I  lerned  longe  agoon.' 

'Ye,  tliat  is  good,'  quod  he;  'now  shul 
we  here                                            1900 

Som  deyutee  thing,  me  thinketh  by  his 
there.' 

Explicit. 


SIR    THOPAS. 


Here  biginneth   Chaucer's   Tale  of 

Thopas. 

LisTETH,  lordes,  in  good  entent, 
And  1  vvol  telle  verrayment 

Of  mirthe  and  of  solas; 
Al  of  a  knyght  was  fair  and  gent        1 905 
In  bataille  and  in  tourneyment, 

His  name  was  sir  Thopas. 

Y-born  he  was  in  fer  contree, 
In  Flaundres,  al  biyonde  the  see, 

At  Popering,  in  the  place;  1 910 

His  fader  was  a  man  ful  free. 
And  lord  he  was  of  that  contree, 

As  it  was  goddes  grace. 

Sir  Thopas  wex  a  doghty  swayn, 

Whyt  was  his  face  as  payndemayn,  191 5 

His  lippes  rede  as  rose; 
His  rode  is  lyk  scarlet  in  grayn, 
And  I  yow  tcdle  in  good  certayn. 

He  hadde  a  semely  nose. 

His  heer,  his  berd  was  lyk  saffroun,  1920 
That  to  his  girdel  raughte  adoun; 

His  shoon  of  Cordewane. 
Of  Brugges  were  his  hosen  broun, 
His  robe  was  of  ciclatoun, 

That  coste  many  a  lane.  1925 

He  coude  hunte  at  wilde  deer. 
And  ryde  an  hauking  for  riveer. 

With  grey  goshauk  on  honde; 
Ther-to  he  was  a  good  archeer. 
Of  wrastling  was  ther  noon  his  peer,  1930 

Ther  any  ram  shal  stonde. 

Ful  many  a  mayde,  bright  in  bour, 
They  moorne  for  him,  paramour. 
Whan  hem  were  bet  to  slepe; 


But  he  was  chast  and  no  lechour,      1935 
And  sweet  as  is  the  bremble-flour 
That  bereth  the  rede  hepe. 

And  so  bifel  up-on  a  day. 
For  sothe,  as  I  yow  telle  may, 

Sir  Thopas  vvolde  out  ryde;  '940 

He  worth  upon  his  stede  gray, 
And  in  his  honde  a  launcegay, 

A  long  swerd  by  his  syde. 

He  priketh  thurgh  a  fair  forest, 
Ther-inne  is  many  a  wilde  best,         1945 

Ye,  bothe  bukke  and  hare; 
And,  as  he  priketh  north  and  est, 
I  telle  it  yow,  him  hadde  almest 

Bitid  a  sory  care. 

Ther  springen  herbes  grete  and  smale. 
The  lycorys  and  cetewale,  ^95 1 

.  And  many  a  clowe-gilofre; 
And  notemuge  to  putte  in  ale. 
Whether  it  be  moyste  or  stale. 

Or  for  to  leye  in  cofre.  ^955 

The  briddes  singe,  it  is  no  nay, 
The  sparhauk  and  the  papeiay, 

That  loye  it  was  to  here; 
The  thrustelcok  made  eek  his  lay. 
The  wodedowve  upon  the  spray         1960 

She  sang  ful  loude  and  clere. 

Sir  Thopas  fil  in  love-longinge 

Al  whan  he  herde  the  thrustel  singe, 

And  priked  as  he  were  wood : 
His  faire  stede  in  his  prikinge  1965 

So  swatte  that  men  mighte  him  wringe, 

His  sydes  were  al  blood. 


Sir  Thopas  eek  so  wery  was 
For  prikinge  on  the  softe  gras, 
So  hers  was  his  corage. 


1970 


I97I-2061.] 


B.     SIR   TMOPAS. 


553 


That  doun  he  leyde  him  in  that  plas 
To  make  his  stede  som  solas, 
And  yaf  him  good  forage. 

'  O  seinte  Marie,  benedicite  ! 

What  eyleth  this  love  at  me  1975 

To  binde  me  so  sore  ? 
Me  dremed  al  this  night,  pardee, 
An  elf-ijuecn  shal  my  lemman  be, 

And  slepe  under  my  gore. 

An  elf-queen  wol  I  love,  y-wis,  1 980 

For  in  this  world  no  womman  is 

Worthy  to  be  my  make 

In  toune; 
Alle  othere  wommen  1  forsake, 
And  to  an  elf-queen  I  me  take  1985 

By  dale  and  eek  by  doune  ! ' 

In-to  his  sadel  he  clamb  anoon. 
And  priketh  over  style  and  stoon 

An  elf-queen  for  tespye. 
Til  he  so  longe  had  riden  and  goon  iggo 
That  he  fond,  in  a  privee  woon, 

The  contree  of  Fairye 

So  wilde; 
For  in  that  contree  was  ther  noon 
That  to  him  dorste  ryde  or  goon,       1995 

Neither  wyf  ne  childe. 

Til  that  ther  cam  a  greet  geaunt, 
His  name  was  sir  Olifaunt, 

A  perilous  man  of  dede; 
He  seyde,  '  child,  by  Termagaunt,     2000 
But-if  thou  prike  out  of  myn  haunt, 

Anon  I  slee  thy  stede 

With  mace. 
Heer  is  the  queen  of  Fayerye,  2004 

With  harpe  and  pype  and  simphonye 

Dwelling  in  this  place.' 

The  child  seyde,  '  al-so  mote  I  thee, 
Tomorwe  wol  I  mete  thee 

Whan  I  have  myn  armoure; 
And  yet  I  hope,  par  ma  fay,  20IO 

That  thou  shalt  with  this  launcegay 

Abyen  it  ful  soure; 

Thy  mawe 
Shal  I  percen,  if  I  may, 
Er  it  be  fully  pryme  of  day,  2015 

For  heer  thou  shalt  be  slawe.' 


.Sir  Thopas  drow  abak  ful  faste; 
This  geaunt  at  him  stones  caste 

Out  of  a  fel  staf-slinge; 
But  faire  escapeth  child   Thopas,        2020 
And  al  it  was  thurgh  goddcs  gras, 

And  thurgh  his  fair  beringe. 

Yet  listeth,  lordes,  to  my  tale 
Mericr  than  the  nightingale. 

For  now  I  wol  yow  roune  2025 

How  sir  Thopas  with  sydes  smale, 
Priking  over  hil  and  dale. 

Is  Come  agayn  to  toune. 

His  merie  men  comanded  he 

To  make  him  bothe  game  and  glee,  2030 

For  neiies  moste  he  hghte 
With  a  geaunt  with  hevedes  three. 
For  paramour  and  lolitee 

Of  oon  that  shoon  ful  brighte. 

'  Do  come,'  he  seyde,  '  my  minstrales. 
And  gestours,  for  to  tellen  tales         2036 

Anon  in  myn  arminge; 
Of  romances  that  been  royales, 
Of  popes  and  of  cardinales. 

And  eek  of  love-lykinge.'  2040 

They  fette  him  first  the  swete  wyn. 
And  mede  eek  in  a  maselyn, 

And  royal  spicerye 
Of  gingebreed  that  was  ful  fyn, 
And  lycorys,  and  eek  comyn,  2045 

With  sugre  that  is  so  trye. 

He  dide  next  his  whyte  lere 
Of  clooth  of  lake  fyn  and  clere 

A  breech  and  eek  a  sherte; 
And  ne.xt  his  sherte  an  aketoun,        2050 
And  over  that  an  habergeoun 

For  percinge  of  his  herte; 

And  over  that  a  fyn  hauberk. 
Was  al  y-wroght  of  lewes  werk, 

Ful  strong  it  was  of  plate;  2055 

And  over  that  his  cote-armour 
As  whyt  as  is  a  lily-flour. 

In  which  he  wol  debate. 

His  sheeld  was  al  of  gold  so  reed. 
And  ther-in  was  a  bores  heed,  2060 

A  charbocle  bisyde; 


554 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2062-2134. 


And  there  he  swoor,  on  ale  and  breed, 
How  that  '  the  geaunt  shal  be  deed, 
Bityde  what  bityde ! ' 

His  lambeux  were  of  quirboilly,        2065 
His  swerdes  shethe  of  yvory. 

His  helm  of  laton  bright; 
His  sadel  was  of  rewel-boon, 
His  brydel  as  the  sonne  shoon, 

Or  as  the  mone  light.  2070 

His  spere  was  of  fyn  ciprees, 

That  bodeth  werre,  and  no-thing  pees. 

The  heed  ful  sharpe  y-grounde; 
His  stede  was  al  dappel-gray. 
It  gooth  an  ambel  in  the  way  2075 

Ful  softely  and  rounde 

In  londe. 
Lo,  lordes  myne,  beer  is  a  fit ! 
If  ye  wol  any  more  of  it, 

To  telle  it  wol  1  fonde.  2080 


[  The  Second  Fit.'] 

Now  hold  your  mouth,  par  charitee, 
Bothe  knight  and  lady  free, 
And  herkneth  to  my  spelle; 

Here  the  Host  stinteth  Cha 


Of  bataille  and  of  chivalry, 
And  of  ladyes  love-drury  2085 

Anon  I  wol  yow  telle. 

Men  speke  of  romances  of  prys. 
Of  Horn  child  and  of  Ypotys, 

Of  Bevis  and  sir  Gy, 
Of  sir  Libeux  and  Pleyn-damour;      2090 
But  sir  Thopas,  he  bereth  the  flour 

Of  royal  chivalry. 

His  gode  stede  al  he  bistrood, 
And  forth  upon  his  wey  he  glood 

As  sparkle  out  of  the  bronde;        2095 
Up-on  his  crest  he  bar  a  tour. 
And  ther-in  stiked  a  lily-flour, 

God  shilde  his  cors  fro  shonde  ! 

And  for  he  was  a  knight  auntrous. 

He  nolde  slepen  in  non  hous,  2100 

But  liggen  in  his  hode; 
His  brighte  helm  was  his  wonger. 
And  by  him  baiteth  his  dextrer 

Of  herbes  fyne  and  gode. 


Him-self  drank  water  of  the  wel, 
As  did  the  knight  sir  Percivel, 
So  worthy  under  wede, 

Til  on  a  day 

ucer  of  his  Tale  of  Thopas. 


2105 


PROLOGUE  TO    MELIBEUS. 


•  No  more  of  this,  for  goddes  dignitee,' 
Quod  oure  hoste, '  for  thou  makest  me 
So  wery  of  thy  verray  levvednesse      21 1 1 
That,  also  wisly  god  my  soule  blesse, 
Myn  eres  aken  of  thy  drasty  speche; 
Now  swiche  a  rym  the  devel  I  biteche ! 
This    may   wel   be   rym   dogerel,'    quod 

he.  21 15 

'Why  so?'  quod  I,  'why  wiltow  lette 

me 
More  of  my  tale  than  another  man. 
Sin  that  it  is  the  beste  rym  I  can? ' 
'  By  god,'  quod  he,  '  for  pleynly,  at  a 

word, 
Thy  drasty  ryming  is  nat  worth  a  tord ; 
Thou  doost  nought  elles  but  despendest 

tyme,  21 21 


Sir,   at   o   word,   thou    shalt   no   lenger 

ryme. 
Lat  see  wher  thou  canst  tellen  aught  in 

geste. 
Or  telle  in  prose  somwhat  at  the  leste 
In  which  ther  be  som  mirthe  or  som  doc- 

tryne.'  2125 

'  Gladly,'   quod   I,    '  by   goddes   swete 

pyne, 
I  wol  yow  telle  a  litel  thing  in  prose, 
That  oghte  lyken  yow,  as  I  suppose, 
Or  elles,  certes,  ye  been  to  daungerous. 
It  is  a  moral  tale  vertuous,  2130 

Al  be  it  told  som-tyme  in  sondry  wyse 
Of  sondry  folk,  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 
As  thus;   ye  woot  that  every  evangelist. 
That  telleth  us  the  peyne  of  lesu  Crist, 


2135-2172-] 


B.     THE  TALE   OF   MELIBEUS. 


555 


Ne    saith    nat    al    thing    as    his    fclaw 
dooth,  2135 

]5ut  nathclcs,  hir  sentence  is  al  sooth, 
And  alle  acorden  as  in  hir  sentence, 
Al  be  ther  in  hir  telling  difl'erence. 
For  somme  of  hem  seyn  more,  and  somme 
lesse,  2139 

When  they  his  pitous  passioun  expresse; 
I  meneof  Marke,  Mathew,  Luk  and  lohn; 
But  (U)utelees  hir  sentence  is  al  con. 
Thcrfor,  lordinges  alle,  I  yow  biseche. 
If  that  ye  thinke  I  varie  as  in  my  speche. 
As  thus,  thogh  that  I  telle  som-what 
more  2145 

Expli 


Of  proverl)es,  than  ye  han  herd  bifore, 
Comprehended  in  this  litel  tretis  here, 
To    enforce    with    the    theffect    of    my 

mat  ere. 
And  thogh  I  nat  the  same  wordes  seye 
As  ye  han  herd,  yet  to  yow  alle  I  preye, 
Blameth   me    nat;     for,    as    in   my  sen- 
tence, 215 1 
Ye  shul  not  fynden  moche  difference 
Fro  the  sentence  of  this  tretis  lyte 
After  the  which  this  mery  tale  I  wryte. 
And  therfor   hcrkneth  what  that  I   shal 
seye,  2155 
And  lat  me  tellen  al  my  tale,  I  preye.' 
icit. 


THE  TALE  OF  MELIBEUS. 

[The  mark  /  denotes  the  lines.] 


Here   biginneth    Chancers    Tale   of 
Melibee. 

§1.  A  yong  man  called  Melibeus, 
mighty  and  riche,  bigat  up-on  his 
wyf  that  called  was  Prudence,  a 
doghter  which  that  called  was 
Sophie.  / 

§  2.  Upon  a  day  bifel  that  he  for 
his  desport  is  went  in-to  the  feeldes 
him  to  pleye.  /  His  wyf  and  eek 
his  doghter  hath  he  left  inwith  his 
hous,  of  which  the  dores  weren  fast 
y-shette.  /  Thre  of  his  olde  foos 
han  it  espyed,  and  setten  laddres  to 
the  walles  of  his  hous,  and  by  the 
2160  windowes  ben  entred,  /  and  betten 
his  wyf,  and  wounded  his  doghter 
with  fyve  mortal  woundes  in  fyve 
sondry  places;  /this  is  to  seyn,  in 
hir  feet,  in  hir  handes,  in  hir  eres, 
in  hir  nose,  and  in  hir  mouth;  and 
leften  hir  for  deed,  and  wenten 
awey.  / 

§  3.  When  Melibeus  retourned 
was  in-to  his  hous,  and  saugh  al 
this  mcschief,  he,  lyk  a  mad  man, 
rendinge  his  clothes,  gan  to  wepe 
and  crye./ 


§  4.  Prudence  his  wyf,  as  ferforth 
as  she  dorste,  bisoghte  him  of  his 
weping  for  to  stinte;  /  but  nat  for- 
thy  he  gan  to  crye  and  wepen  ever 
lenger  the  more./  2165 

§  5.  This  noble  wyf  Prudence  re- 
membered hir  upon  the  sentence  of 
Ovide,  in  his  book  that  cleped  is 
The  Remedie  of  Love,  wher-as  he 
seith;  /  'he  is  a  fool  that  destourb- 
eth  the  moder  to  wepen  in  the  deeth 
of  hir  child,  til  she  have  wept  hir 
fille,  as  for  a  certein  tyme ;  /  and 
thanne  shal  man  doon  his  diligence 
with  amiable  wordes  hir  to  recon- 
forte,  and  preyen  hir  of  hir  weping 
for  to  stinte.'/  For  which  resoun 
this  nol)le  wyf  Prudence  suffred  hir 
housbond  for  to  wepe  and  crye  as 
for  a  certein  space;  /  and  whan  she 
saugh  hir  tyme,  she  seyde  him  in 
this  wyse.  'Alias,  my  lord,'  quod 
she,  '  why  make  ye  your-self  for  to 
be  lyk  a  fool?/  For  sothe,  it  2170 
aperteneth  nat  to  a  wys  man,  to 
maken  swiche  a  sorwe.  /  Your 
doghter,  with  the  grace  of  god,  shal 
warisshe  and  escape.  /  And  al 
were  it  so  that  she  right  now  were 


556 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2173-2200. 


deed,  ye  ne  oghte  nat  as  for 
hir  death  your-self  to  destroye.  / 
Senek  seith :  "  the  wise  man  shal 
nat  take  to  greet  disconfurt  for  the 
deeth  of  his  children,  /  but  certes 
he  sholde  suffren  it  in  pacience,  as 
wel  as  he  abydeth  the  deeth  of  his 

2175   owene  propre  persone."  '/ 

§  6.  This  Mehbeus  answerde 
anon  and  seyde, '  What  man,'  quod 
he,  '  sholde  of  his  weping  stinte, 
that  hath  so  greet  a  cause  for  to 
wepe  ?  /  lesu  Crist,  our  lord,  him- 
self wepte  for  the  deeth  of  Lazarus 
his  freend.'/  Prudence  answerde, 
'  Certes,  wel  I  woot,  attempree 
weping  is  no-thing  defended  to  him 
that  sorweful  is,  amonges  folk  in 
sorwe,  but  it  is  rather  graunted  him 
to  wepe.  /  The  Apostle  Paul  un-to 
the  Romayns  wryteth,  "  man  shal 
reioyse  with  hem  that  maken  loye, 
and  wepen  with  swich  folk  as 
wepen."/  But  thogh  attempree 
weping   be    y-graunted,  outrageous 

2180  weping  certes  is  defended./  Mes- 
ure  of  weping  sholde  be  considered, 
after  the  lore  that  techeth  us 
Senek.  /  "  Whan  that  thy  freend 
is  deed,"  quod  he,  "  lat  nat  thyne 
eyen  to  moyste  been  of  teres,  ne  to 
muche  drye;  althogh  the  teres 
come  to  thyne  eyen,  lat  hem  nat 
falle."/  And  whan  thou  hast  for- 
goon  thy  freend,  do  diligence  to 
gete  another  freend;  and  this  is 
more  wysdom  than  for  to  wepe  for 
thy  freend  which  that  thou  hast 
lorn;  for  ther-inne  is  no  bote./ 
And  therfore,  if  ye  governe  yow  by 
sapience,  put  awey  sorwe  out  of 
your  herte.  /  Remembre  yow  that 
lesus  Syrak  seith  :  "  a  man  that  is 
loyous  and  glad  in  herte,  it  him 
conserveth  florisshing  in  his  age; 
but  soothly  sorweful  herte  maketh 

?;i85  his  bones  drye."/  He  seith  eek 
thus :  "  that  sorwe  in  herte  sleeth 
ful  many  a  man."/  Salomon  seith  : 
"  that,  right  as  motthes  in  the  shepes 
flees  anoyeth  to  the  clothes,  and  the 
smale  wormes  to  the  tree,  right  so 
anoyeth    sorwe    to    the    herte."  / 


Wherfore  us  oghte,  as  wel  in  the 
deeth  of  our  children  as  in  the  losse 
of  our  goodes  temporels,  have 
pacience.  / 

§  7.  Remembre  yow  up-on  the 
pacient  lob,  whan  he  hadde  lost  his 
children  and  his  temporel  substance, 
and  in  his  body  endured  and  re- 
ceyved  ful  many  a  grevous  tribu- 
lacioun  ;  yet  seyde  he  thus  :  /  "  our 
lord  hath  yeven  it  me,  our  lord  hath 
biraft  it  me  ;  right  as  our  lord  hath 
wold,  right  so  it  is  doon  ;  blessed  be 
the  name  of  our  lord."  '  /  To  thise  2190 
foreseide  thinges  answerde  Melibeus 
un-to  his  wyf  Prudence  :  '  Alle  thy 
wordes,'  quod  he,  '  been  sothe,  and 
ther-to  profitable  ;  but  trewely  myn 
herte  is  troubled  with  this  sorwe  so 
grevously,  that  I  noot  what  to 
done.'  /  '  Lat  calle,'  quod  Pru- 
dence, '  thy  trewe  freendes  alle,  and 
thy  linage  whiche  that  been  wyse  ; 
telleth  your  cas,  and  herkneth  what 
they  seye  in  conseiling,  and  yow 
governe  after  hir  sentence.  /  Sal- 
omon seith  :  "  werk  alle  thy  thinges 
by  conseil,  and  thou  shalt  never 
repente."  '  / 

§  8.  Thanne,  by  the  conseil  of 
his  wyf  Prudence,  this  Melibeus  leet 
callen  a  greet  congregacioun  of 
folk;  /  as  surgiens,  phisiciens,  olde 
folk  and  yonge,  and  somme  of  hise 
olde  enemys  reconsiled  as  by  hir 
semblaunt  to  his  love  and  in-to 
his  grace  ;  /  and  ther-with-al  ther  2195 
comen  somme  of  hise  neighebores 
that  diden  him  reverence  more  for 
drede  than  for  love,  as  it  happeth 
ofte.  /  Ther  comen  also  ful  many 
subtile  flatterers,  and  wyse  advocats 
lerned  in  the  lawe.  / 

§  9.  And  whan  this  folk  togidre 
assembled  weren,  this  Melibeus  in 
sorweful  wyse  shewed  hem  his  cas ;  / 
and  by  the  manere  of  his  speche  it 
semed  that  in  herte  he  bar  a  cruel 
ire,  redy  to  doon  vengeaunce  up-on 
hise  foos,  and  sodeynly  desired  that 
the  werre  sholde  biginne  ;  /  but 
nathelees  yet  axed  he  hir  conseil 
upon  this  matere.  /     A  surgien,  by  2200 


2201-2225.] 


B.    THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS. 


557 


licence  and  assent  of  swiche  as 
weren  wyse,  up  roos  ami  un-to 
Melil)eus  scyde  as  ye  may  here.  / 
§  10.  'Sir,'  quod  he,  'as  to  us 
surgiens  aperteneth,  that  we  do  to 
every  wij^ht  the  heste  that  we  can, 
wher-as  we  been  witii-holde,  and  to 
our  pacients  that  we  do  no  dam- 
age ;  /  wlierforc  it  happeth,  many 
tyme  and  ofte,  that  whan  twey  men 
han  everich  wounded  other,  con 
same  surgicn  heleth  hem  bothe;  / 
wherefore  un-to  our  art  it  is  nat 
pertinent  to  norice  werre  ne  parties 
tosupporte.  /  But  certes,  as  to  the 
warisshinge  of  your  doghter,  al-i)e-it 
so  that  she  perilously  he  wounded, 
we  shullen  do  so  enteiitif  bisinesse 
fro  day  to  night,  that  with  the  grace 
of  god  she  shal  be  hool  and  sound 

2205  as  sone  as  is  possible.'  /  Almost 
right  in  the  same  wyse  the  phisi- 
ciens  answerden,  save  that  they 
seyden  a  fewe  wordes  more  :  / 
'That,  right  as  maladyes  been  cured 
by  hir  contraries,  right  so  shul  men 
warisshe  were  by  vengeaunce.'  / 
His  neighebores,  ful  of  envye,  his 
feyned  freendes  that  semeden  recon- 
siled,  and  his  fiatereres,  /  maden 
semblant  of  weping,  and  empeireden 
and  agreggeden  muchel  of  this 
matere,  in  preising  greetly  Melibee 
of  might,  of  power,  of  richesse, 
and  of  freendes,  despysinge  the 
power  of  his  adversaries,  /  and 
seiden  outrely  that  he  anon  sholde 
wreken  him  on  his  foos  and  biginne 

2210  werre.  / 

§  1 1.  Up  roos  thanne  an  advocat 
that  was  wys,  by  leve  and  by  conseil 
of  othere  that  were  wyse,  and 
seyde  :  /  '  I.ordinges,  the  node  for 
which  we  been  assembled  in  this 
place  is  a  ful  hevy  thing  and  an 
heigh  matere,  /  by-cause  of  the 
wrong  and  of  the  wikkednesse  that 
hath  be  doon,  and  eek  by  resoun 
of  the  grete  damages  that  in  tyme 
ciiminge  been  possible  t(j  fallen  fur 
this  same  cause ;  /  and  eek  l)y  resoun 
of  the  grete  richesse  anil  jiower  of 
the  parties  bothe  ;  /  for  the  whiche 


resouns  it  were  a  ful  greet  peril  to 
erren  in  this  matere.  /  Wherfore,  2215 
Melil)eus,  this  is  our  sentence:  we 
conseille  yow  aboven  alle  thing, 
that  right  anon  thou  do  thy  diligence 
in  kepinge  of  thy  propre  persona, 
in  swich  a  wyse  that  thou  ne  wante 
noon  espye  ne  wacche,  thy  body  for 
to  save.  /  And  after  ihat  we  con- 
seille, that  in  tiiyn  hous  thou  sette 
suffisant  garnisoun,  so  that  they  may 
as  well  thy  body  as  thyn  hous  de- 
fende.  /  But  certes,  for  to  moeve 
werre,  or  sodeynly  for  to  doon  ven- 
geaunce, we  may  nat  demen  in  so 
lite!  tyme  that  it  were  profitable.  / 
Wherfore  we  axen  leyser  and  espace 
to  have  deliberacioun  in  this  cas  to 
deme.  /  For  the  commune  pro- 
verbe  seith  thus :  "  he  that  sone 
demeth,  sone  shal  repente."  /  And  2220 
eek  men  seyn  that  thilke  luge  is 
wys,  that  sone  understondeth  a 
matere  and  luggeth  by  leyser.  / 
For  al-be-it  so  that  alle  tarying  be 
anoyful,  algates  it  is  nat  to  repreve 
in  yevinge  of  lugement,  ne  in  ven- 
geance-taking, whan  it  is  suffisant 
and  resonable.  /  And  that  shewed 
our  lord  lesu  Crist  by  ensample; 
for  whan  that  the  womnian  that  was 
taken  in  avoutrie  was  broght  in  his 
presence,  to  knowen  what  sholde 
be  doon  with  hir  persone,  al-be-it 
so  that  he  wiste  wel  him-self  what 
that  he  wolde  ansvvere,  yet  ne  wolde 
he  nat  answere  sodeynly,  but  he 
wolde  have  deliberacioun,  and  in 
the  ground  he  wroot  twyes.  / 
And  by  thise  causes  we  axen 
deliberacioun,  and  we  shal  thanne, 
by  the  grace  of  god,  conseille 
thee  thing  that  shal  be  prohta- 
ble.'/ 

§  12.  Up  stirten  thanne  the  yonge 
folk  at-ones,  and  the  nioste  partie 
of  that  companye  han  scorned  the 
olde  wyse  men,  and  bigonnen  to 
make  noyse,  and  seyden :  that,  /  2225 
right  so  as  whyl  that  iren  is  hoot, 
men  sholden  smyte,  right  so,  men 
sholde  wreken  hir  wronges  whyle 
that  they  been  fresshe  and  newe; 


558 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2226-2249. 


and    with    loud   voys  they  cryden, 
'  werre  !  werre  ! '  / 

Up  roos  tho  oon  of  thise  olde 
wyse,  and  with  his  hand  made  con- 
tenaunce  that  men  sholde  holden 
hem  stille  and  yeven  him  audience./ 
'  Lordinges,'  quod  he,  '  ther  is  ful 
many  a  man  that  cryeth  "  werre ! 
werre ! "  that  woot  ful  litel  what 
werre  amounteth.  /  Werre  at  his 
biginning  hath  so  greet  an  entree 
and  so  large,  that  every  wight  may 
entre  whan  him  lyketh,  and  lightly 
finde  werre.  /  But,  certes,  what 
ende  that  shal  ther-of  bifalle,  it  is 

2230  nat  hght  to  knowe.  /  For  sothly, 
whan  that  werre  is  ones  bigonne, 
ther  is  ful  many  a  child  unborn  of 
his  moder,  that  shal  sterve  yong  by- 
cause  of  that  ilke  werre,  or  elles  live 
in  sorwe  and  dye  in  vvrecchednesse./ 
And  ther-fore,  er  that  any  werre 
biginne,  men  moste  have  greet  con- 
seil  and  greet  deliberacioun.'  /  And 
whan  this  olde  man  wende  to  en- 
forcen  his  tale  by  resons,  wel  ny 
alle  at-ones  bigonne  they  to  ryse  for 
to  breken  his  tale,  and  beden  him 
ful  ofte  his  wordes  for  to  abregge.  / 
For  soothly,  he  that  precheth  to 
hem  that  listen  nat  heren  his  wordes, 
his  sermon  hem  anoyeth.  /  For 
lesus  Syrak  seith :  that  "  musik  in 
wepinge  is  anoyous  thing  ;  "  this  is 
to  seyn :  as  muche  availleth  to 
speken  bifore  folk  to  whiche  his 
speche  anoyeth,  as  dooth  to  singe 

2235  biforn  him  that  wepeth.  /  And 
whan  this  wyse  man  saugh  that  him 
wanted  audience,  al  shamefast  he 
sette  him  doun  agayn.  /  For  Sal- 
omon seith  :  "  ther-as  thou  ne  mayst 
have  noon  audience,  enforce  thee 
nat  to  speke."  /  '  I  see  wel,'  quod 
this  wyse  man,  '  that  the  commune 
proverbe  is  sooth ;  that  "  good  con- 
seil  wanteth  whan  it  is  most 
nede." '  / 

§13.  Yet  hadde  this  Melibeus  in 
his  conseil  many  folk,  that  prively 
in  his  ere  conseilled  him  certeyn 
thing,  and  conseilled  him  the  con- 
trarie  in  general  audience.  / 


Whan  Melibeus  hadde  herd  that 
the  gretteste  partie  of  his  conseil 
weren  accorded  that  he  sholde 
maken  werre,  anoon  he  consented 
to  hir  conseilling,  and  fully  affermed 
hir  sentence.  /  Thanne  dame  Pru-  2240 
dence,  whan  that  she  saugh  how 
that  hir  housbonde  shoop  him  for 
to  wreken  him  on  his  foos,  and  to 
biginne  werre,  she  in  ful  humble 
wyse,  when  she  saugh  hir  tyme, 
seide  him  thise  wordes  :  /  '  My  lord,' 
quod  she,  '  I  yow  biseche  as  hertely 
as  I  dar  and  can,  ne  haste  yow  nat 
to  faste,  and  for  alle  guerdons  as 
yeveth  me  audience.  /  For  Piers 
Alfonce  seith  :  "  who-so  that  dooth 
to  that  other  good  or  harm,  haste 
thee  nat  to  quyten  it;  for  in  this 
wyse  thy  freend  wol  abyde,  and 
thyn  enemy  shal  the  lenger  live  in 
drede."  /  The  proverbe  seith : 
"  he  hasteth  wel  that  wysely  can 
abyde;  "  and  in  wikked  haste  is  no 
profit.'  / 

§  14.  This  Melibee  answerde 
un-to  his  wyf  Prudence :  '  I  pur- 
pose nat,'  quod  he,  '  to  werke  by  thy 
conseil,  for  many  causes  and  resouns. 
For  certes  every  wight  wolde  holde 
me  thanne  a  fool;  /  this  is  to  seyn,  2245 
if  I,  for  thy  conseilling,  wolde 
chaungen  thinges  that  been  or- 
deyned  and  affermed  by  so  manye 
wyse.  /  Secoundly  I  seye,  that 
alle  wommen  been  wikke  and  noon 
good  of  hem  alle.  For  "  of  a  thou- 
sand men,"  seith  Salomon,  "  I  fond 
a  good  man :  but  certes,  of  alle 
wommen,  good  womman  fond  I 
never."/  And  also  certes,  if  I 
governed  me  by  thy  conseil,  it 
sholde  seme  that  I  hadde  yeve  to 
thee  over  me  the  maistrie;  and  god 
forbede  that  it  so  were.  /  For 
lesus  Syrak  seith;  "that  if  the  wyf 
have  maistrie,  she  is  contrarious  to 
hir  housbonde."  /  And  Salomon 
seith  :  "  never  in  thy  lyf,  to  thy  wyf, 
ne  to  thy  child,  ne  to  thy  freend,  ne 
yeve  no  power  over  thy-self.  For 
bettre  it  were  that  thy  children  aske 
of  thy  persone   thinges  that  hem 


2250-2273.] 


B.     THE  TALE  OF   MELIHEUS. 


559 


nedeth,  than  thou  see  thy-self  in  the 
2250  handcs  of  thy  children."  /  And 
also,  if  I  wolde  wcrkc  by  tliy  con- 
seilling,  certes  my  conseilling  moste 
som  tynie  be  secree,  til  it  were  tynie 
that  it  moste  be  knowe ;  and  this  ne 
may  noght  be.  /  [For  it  is  writen, 
that  "  the  langlerie  of  womnien 
can  hyden  thinges  that  they  witen 
noght."  /  Furthermore,  the  philo- 
sophre  seith,  "  in  wikked  conseil 
vvommen  venquisshe  men  ;  "  and 
for  thise  resouns  I  ne  owe  nat  usen 
thy  conseil.']  / 

§  15.  Whanna  dame  Prudence, 
ful  debonairly  and  with  greet  pa- 
cience,  hadde  herd  al  that  hir  hous- 
bonde  lyked  for  to  seye,  thanne 
axed  she  of  him  licence  for  to  speke, 
and  seyde  in  this  wyse.  /  '  My 
lord,'  quod  she,  '  as  to  your  firste 
resoun,  certes  it  may  lightly  been 
answered.  For  I  seye,  that  it  is  no 
folic  to  chaunge  conseil  whan  the 
thing  is  chaunged;  or  elles  whan 
the  thing  semeth  otherweyes  than 
2255  it  was  biforn.  /  And  more-over  I 
seye,  that  though  ye  han  sworn  and 
bihight  to  perfourne  your  emprise, 
and  nathelees  ye  weyve  to  perfourne 
thilke  same  emprise  by  luste  cause, 
men  sholde  nat  seyn  therefore  that 
ye  were  a  Iyer  ne  forsworn.  /  For 
the  book  seith,  that  "  the  wyse  man 
maketh  no  lesing  whan  he  turneth 
his  corage  to  the  bettre."  /  And 
al-be-it  so  that  your  emprise  be 
establissed  and  ordeyned  Ijy  greet 
multitude  of  folk,  yet  thar  ye  nat 
accomplice  thilke  same  ordinaunce 
but  yow  lyke.  /  For  the  trouthe 
of  thinges  and  the  profit  been  rather 
founden  in  fewe  folk  that  been  wyse 
and  ful  of  resoun,  than  by  greet 
nmltitude  of  folk,  ther  every  man 
cryeth  and  clatereth  what  that  him 
lyketh.  Soothly  swich  multitude  is 
nat  honeste.  /  As  to  the  seconde 
resoun,  where-as  ye  seyn  that  "  alle 
wommen  been  wikke,"  save  your 
grace,  certes  ye  despysen  alle  wom- 
men in  this  wyse;  and  "he  that 
alle  despyscth  alle   displcseth,"  as 


seith  the  book.  /  And  .Senek  seith  2260 
that  "  vvho-so  wole  have  sapience, 
shal  no  man  dispreisc;  but  he  shal 
gladly  techen  the  science  that  he 
can,  with-outen  presunipcioun  or 
pryde.  /  And  swiche  thinges  as  he 
nought  ne  can,  he  shal  nat  been 
ashamed  to  lerne  hem  and  enquere 
of  lasse  folk  than  him-self."  /  And 
sir,  that  thcr  hath  been  many  a  good 
womman,  may  lightly  be  preved.  / 
For  certes,  sir,  our  lord  lesu  ("rist 
wolde  never  have  descended  to  be 
born  of  a  womman,  if  alle  wommen 
hadden  ben  wikke.  /  And  after 
that,  for  the  grete  bountee  that  is  in 
vvommen,  our  lord  lesu  Crist,  whan 
he  was  risen  fro  deeth  to  lyve,  ap- 
peered  rather  to  a  womman  than  to 
his  apostles.  /  And  though  that  2265 
Salomon  seith,  that  "  he  ne  fond 
never  womman  good,"  it  folweth 
nat  therfore  that  alle  wommen  ben 
wikke.  /  For  though  that  he  ne  fond 
no  good  womman,  certes,  ful  many 
another  man  hath  founden  many  a 
womman  ful  good  and  trewe.  /  Or 
elles  per-aventure  the  entente  of 
Salomon  was  this;  that,  as  in  sov- 
ereyn  bountee,  he  fond  no  wom- 
man; /  this  is  to  seyn,  that  ther  is 
no  wight  that  hath  sovereyn  bountee 
save  god  allone;  as  he  him-self  re- 
cordeth  in  his  Evaungelie.  /  For 
ther  nis  no  creature  so  good  that 
him  ne  wanteth  somwhat  of  the 
perfeccioun  of  god,  that  is  his 
maker.  /  Your  thridde  resoun  is  2270 
this :  ye  seyn  that  "  if  ye  governe 
yow  by  my  conseil,  it  sholde  seme 
that  ye  hadde  yeve  me  the  niaistrie 
and  the  lordshipe  over  your  per- 
sone."  /  Sir,  save  your  grace,  it  is 
nat  so.  For  if  it  were  so,  that  no 
man  sholde  be  conseilled  but  only 
of  hem  that  hadden  lordshipe  and 
maistrie  of  his  persona,  men  vvolden 
nat  be  conseilled  so  ofte.  /  For 
soothly,  thilke  man  that  asketh  con- 
seil of  a  purpos,  yet  hath  he  free 
chois,  wheither  he  wole  werke  by 
that  conseil  or  noon.  /  And  as  to 
your  fourthe  resoun,  ther  ye  seyn 


560 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[2274-2303. 


that  "  the  langlerie  of  wommen 
hath  hid  thinges  that  they  woot 
noght,"  as  who  seith,  that  "  a  wom- 
man  can  nat  hyde  that  she  woot;"  / 
sir,  thise  wordes  been  understonde 
of  wommen  that  been  langleresses 
and  wikl^ed;  /  of  whiche  wommen, 
men  seyn  that  "  three  thinges  dryven 
a  man  out  of  his  hous;  that  is  to 
seyn,  smoke,  dropping  of  reyn,  and 
wikked  wyves;  "  /  and  of  swiche 
wommen  seith  Salomon,  that,  "  it 
were  bettre  dwelle  in  desert,  than 
with  a  womman  that  is  riotous."  / 
And  sir,  by  your  leve,  that  am  nat 
I ;  /  for  ye  han  ful  ofte  assayed  my 
grete  silence  and  my  gret  pacience; 
and  eek  how  wel  that  I  can  hyde 
and  hele  thinges  that  men  oghte 
secreely  to  hyde.  /  And  soothly, 
as  to  your  fifthe  resoun,  wher-as  ye 
seyn,  that  "  in  wikked  conseil  wom- 
men venquisshe  men;  "  god  woot, 
thilke    resoun    stant    here    in     no 

2280  stede.  /  For  understond  now,  ye 
asken  conseil  to  do  wikkednesse;  / 
and  if  ye  wole  werken  wikkednesse, 
and  your  wyf  restreyneth  thilke 
wikked  purpos,  and  overcometh  yow 
by  resoun  and  by  good  conseil;  / 
certes,  your  wyf  oghte  rather  to  be 
praised  than  y-blamed.  /  Thus 
sholde  ye  understonde  the  philoso- 
phre  that  seith,  "  in  wikked  conseil 
wommen  venquisshen  hir  hous- 
bondes."  /  And  ther-as  ye  blamen 
alle  wommen  and  hir  resouns,  I  shal 
shewe  yow  by  manye  ensamples  that 
many  a  womman  hath  ben  ful  good, 
and  yet  been;    and  hir  conseils  ful 

2285  hoolsome  and  profitable.  /  Eek 
som  men  han  seyd,  that  "  the  con- 
seillinge  of  wommen  is  outher  to 
dere,  or  elles  to  litel  of  prys."  / 
But  al-be-it  so,  that  ful  many  a 
womman  is  badde,  and  hir  conseil 
vile  and  noght  worth,  yet  han  men 
founde  ful  many  a  good  womman, 
and  ful  discrete  and  wise  in  con- 
seillinge.  /  Lo,  lacob,  by  good 
conseil  of  his  moder  Rebekka,  wan 
the  benisoun  of  Ysaak  his  fader, 
and    the    lordshipe    over    alle    his 


bretheren.  /  ludith,  by  hir  good 
conseil,  delivered  the  citee  (jf  Bethu- 
lie,  in  which  she  dwelled,  out  of  the 
handes'  of  Olofernus,  that  hadde  it 
biseged  and  wolde  have  al  destroyed 
it.  /  Abigail  delivered  Nabal  hir 
housbonde  fro  David  the  king,  that 
wolde  have  slayn  him,  and  apaysed 
the  ire  of  the  king  by  hir  wit  and 
by  hir  good  conseilling.  /  Hester  2290 
by  hir  good  conseil  enhaunced 
greetly  the  peple  of  god  in  the 
regne  of  Assuerus  the  king.  /  And 
the  same  bountee  in  good  conseill- 
ing of  many  a  good  womman  may 
men  telle.  /  And  moreover,  whan 
our  lord  hadde  creat  Adam  our 
forme-fader,  he  seyde  in  this  wyse  :  / 
"  it  is  nat  good  to  been  a  man  allone ; 
make  we  to  him  an  help  semblable 
to  himself."  /  Here  may  ye  se 
that,  if  that  wommen  were  nat 
goode,  and  hir  conseils  goode  and 
profitable,  /  our  lord  god  of  hevene  2295 
wolde  never  han  wroght  hem,  ne 
called  hem  help  of  man,  but  rather 
confusioun  of  man.  /  And  ther 
seyde  ones  a  clerk  in  two  vers : 
"  what  is  bettre  than  gold?  laspre. 
What  is  bettre  than  laspre?  Wis- 
dom. /  And  what  is  bettre  than 
wisdom?  Womman.  And  what  is 
bettre  than  a  good  womman?  No- 
thing." /  And  sir,  by  manye  of 
othre  resons  may  ye  seen,  that 
manye  wommen  been  goode,  and 
hir  conseils  goode  and  profitable.  / 
And  therfore  sir,  if  ye  wol  triste  to 
my  conseil,  I  shal  restore  yow  your 
doghter  hool  and  sound.  /  And  2300 
eek  I  wol  do  to  yow  so  muche,  that 
ye  shul  have  honour  in  this  cause.'  / 
§  1 6.  Whan  Melibee  hadde  herd 
the  wordes  of  his  wyf  Prudence,  he 
seyde  thus :  /  '  I  see  wel  that  the 
word  of  Salomon  is  sooth;  he  seith, 
that  "  wordes  that  been  spoken  dis- 
creetly by  ordinaunce,  been  hony- 
combes;  for  they  yeven  swetnesse 
to  the  soule,  and  hoolsomnesse  to 
the  body."  /  And  wyf,  by-cause  of 
thy  swete  wordes,  and  eek  for  I 
have  assayed  and  preved  thy  grete 


2304-2337-] 


B.    THE  TALE  OF   MELIBEUS. 


561 


sapience  and  thy  grete  trouthe,  I 
wol  governe  me  by  thy  conseil  in 
alle  thing.'  / 

§  17.  '  Now  sir,' cjuod  (lame  I'ru- 
dence,  '  and  sin  ye  vouche-sauf 
to  been  governed  by  my  conseil,  1 
wol  enforme  yow  how  ye  shul  gov- 
erne your-self  in  chesinge  of  your 

2305  conseillours.  /  Ye  shul  lirst,  in  alle 
your  werkes,  mekely  biseken  to  the 
heighe  god  that  he  wol  be  your 
conseillour;  /  and  shapeth  yow  to 
swich  entente,  that  he  yeve  yow 
conseil  and  con  fort,  as  taughte 
Thobie  his  sone.  /  "  At  alle  tymes 
thou  shalt  blesse  god,  and  preye 
him  to  dresse  thy  weyes";  and 
looke  that  alle  thy  conseils  been  in 
him  for  evermore.  /  Seint  lame  eek 
seith  :  "  if  any  of  yow  have  nede  of 
sapience,  axe  it  of  god."  /  And 
afterward  thanne  shul  ye  taken  con- 
seil in  your-self,  and  examine  wel 
your  thoghtes,  of  swich  thing  as 
yow  thinketh  that  is  best  for  your 

2310  proht.  /  And  thanne  shul  ye  dryve 
fro  your  herte  three  thinges  that 
been  contrariouse  to  good  conseil,/ 
that  is  to  seyn,  ire,  coveitise,  and 
hastifnesse.  / 

§  18.  First,  he  that  axeth  conseil 
of  him-self,  certes  he  moste  been 
with-outen  ire,  for  nianye  causes.  / 
The  (irste  is  this  :  he  that  hath  greet 
ire  and  wratthe  in  him-self,  he 
weneth  alwey  that  he  may  do  thing 
that  he  may  nat  do.  /  And  sec- 
oundely,  he  that  is  irous  and  wroth, 
2315  he  ne  may  nat  wel  deme;  /  and  he 
that  may  nat  wel  deme,  may  nat 
wel  conseille.  /  The  thridde  is 
this;  that  "  he  that  is  irous  and 
wrooth,"  as  seith  Senek,  "  ne  may 
nat  speke  but  he  blame  thinges;  "/ 
and  with  his  viciouse  wordes  he 
stireth  other  folk  to  angre  and  to 
ire.  /  And  eek  sir,  ye  moste  dryve 
coveitise  out  of  your  herte.  /  For 
the  apostle  seith,  that  "  coveitise  is 

2320  rote  of  alle  harmes."  /     And  trust 

wel  that  a  coveitous  man  ne  can 

noght  deme  ne  thinke,  but  only  to 

fuUillc  the  endc  of  his  coveitise;  / 

20 


and  certes,  that  ne  may  never  he 
accompliced;  for  ever  the  more 
habundaunce  that  he  hath  of  rich- 
esse,  the  more  he  desyrelh.  /  And 
sir,  ye  moste  also  dryve  out  of  your 
herte  hastifnesse  ;  for  certes,  /  ye 
ne  may  nat  deme  for  the  beste  a 
sodeyn  thought  that  falleth  in  youre 
herte,  but  ye  moste  avyse  yow  on  it 
ful  ofte.  /  For  as  ye  hcrde  biforn, 
the  commune  proverbe  is  this,  that 
"  he  that  sone  demeth,  sone  repent- 
eth."  /  2325 

§  19.  Sir,  ye  ne  be  nat  alwey  in 
lyke  disposicioun;  /  for  certes,  som 
thing  that  somtyme  semeth  to  yow 
that  it  is  good  for  to  do,  another 
tyme  it  semeth  to  yow  the  contra- 
rie.  / 

§  20.  Whan  ye  han  taken  con- 
seil in  your-self,  and  han  denied  by 
good  deliberacion  swich  thing  as 
you  semeth  best,  /  thanne  rede  I 
yow,  that  ye  kepe  it  secree.  /  Bi- 
wrey  nat  your  conseil  to  no  persona, 
but-if  so  be  that  ye  wenen  sikerly 
that,  thurgh  your  bivvreying,  your 
condicioun  shal  be  to  yow  the  more 
profitable.  /  For  lesus  Syrak  2330 
seith :  "  neither  to  thy  foo  ne  to 
thy  freend  discovere  nat  thy  secree 
ne  thy  folic;  /  for  they  wol  yeve 
yow  audience  and  loking  and  sup- 
portacioun  in  thy  presence,  and 
scorne  thee  in  thyn  absence."  / 
Another  clerk  seith,  that  "  scarsly 
shaltou  tinden  any  persone  that 
may  kepe  conseil  secreely."  /  The 
book  seith  :  "  whyl  that  thou  kep- 
est  thy  conseil  in  thyn  herte,  thou 
kepest  it  in  thy  prisoun :  /  and 
whan  thou  biwreyest  thy  conseil  to 
any  wight,  he  holdeth  thee  in  his 
snare."  /  And  therefore  yow  is  2335 
bettre  to  hyde  your  conseil  in  your 
herte,  than  praye  him,  to  whom  ye 
han  biwreyed  your  conseil,  that  he 
wole  kepen  it  cloos  and  stille.  / 
For  Seneca  seith  :  "  if  so  be  that 
thou  ne  mayst  nat  thyn  owene  con- 
seil hyde,  how  darstou  prayen  any 
other  wight  thy  conseil  secreely  to 
kepe?"/     But    nathelces,  if   thou 


562 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2338-2365. 


wene  sikerly  that  the  hiwreying  of 
thy  conseil  to  a  persone  wol  make 
thy  condicioun  to  stonden  in  tlie 
bettre  plyt,  thanne  shaltou  tellen  him 
thy  conseil  in  this  wyse.  /  P'irst, 
thou  shalt  make  no  semljlant 
whether  thee  were  lever  pees  or 
werre,  or  this  or  that,  ne  shewe  him 
nat  thy  wille  and  ihyn  entente;  / 
for    trust    wel,  that    comunly  thise 

2340  conseilloursheen  flatereres,  /  name- 
ly the  conseillours  of  grete  lordes  ;  / 
for  they  enforcen  hem  alwey  rather 
to  speken  plesante  wordes,  enclyn- 
inge  to  the  lonles  lust,  than  wordes 
that  been  trewe  or  profitable.  / 
And  therfore  men  seyn,  that  "  the 
riche  man  hath  seld  good  conseil 
but-if  he  have  it  of  him-self."  / 
And  after  that,  thou  shalt  considere 
thy  freendes  and  thyne  enemys.  / 
And  as  touchinge  thy  freendes,  thou 
shalt  considere  whiche  of  hem  been 
most  feithful  and  most  wyse,  and  eld- 
est and   most   approved  in  conseil- 

2345  ling.  /  And  of  hem  shalt  thou  aske 
thy  conseil,  as  the  caas  requireth.  / 
§  21.  I  seye  that  first  ye  shul 
clepe  to  your  conseil  your  freendes 
that  been  trewe.  /  For  Salomon 
seith :  that  "  right  as  the  herte  of 
a  man  delyteth  in  savour  that  is 
sote,  right  so  the  conseil  of  trewe 
freendes  yeveth  swetenesse  to  the 
soule."  /  He  seith  also  :  "  ther 
may  no-thing  be  lykned  to  the 
trewe  freend."  /  For  certes,  gold 
ne  silver  beth  nat  so  muche  worth 

;,->-o  as  the  gode  wil  of  a  trewe  freend./ 
And  eek  he  seith,  that  "  a  trewe 
freend  is  a  strong  deffense;  who-so 
that  it  findeth,  certes  he  findeth  a 
greet  tresour."  /  Thanne  shul  ye 
eek  considere,  if  that  your  trewe 
freendes  been  discrete  and  wyse. 
For  the  book  seith :  "  axe  alwey 
thy  conseil  of  hem  that  been 
wyse."  /  And  by  this  same  resoun 
shul  ye  clepen  to  your  conseil,  of 
ycjur  freendes  that  been  of  age, 
swiche  as  han  seyn  and  been  expert 
in  maiiye  thinges,  and  been  ap- 
proved in  conseillinges.  /     For  the 


book  seith,  that  "  in  olde  men  is 
the  sapience  and  in  longe  tyme  the 
])rudence."  /  And  Tullius  seith  : 
that  "  grete  thinges  ne  been  nat  ay 
accompliced  by  strengthe,  ne  by 
delivernesse  of  body,  but  by  good 
conseil,  by  auctoritee  of  persones, 
and  by  science  ;  the  whiche  three 
thinges  ne  been  nat  feble  by  age, 
but  certes  they  enforcen  and  en- 
creesen  day  Ijy  day."  /  And  thanne  2355 
shul  ye  kepe  this  for  a  general 
reule.  First  shul  ye  clepen  to  your 
conseil  a  fewe  of  your  freendes  that 
been  especiaie;  /  for  Sahniion 
seith:  "  manye  freendes  have  thou; 
but  among  a  thousand  chese  thee 
oon  to  be  thy  conseillour."  /  For 
al-be-it  so  that  thou  first  ne  telle 
thy  conseil  but  to  a  fewe,  thou 
mayst  afterward  telle  it  to  mo  folk, 
if  it  be  nede.  /  But  loke  alwey 
that  thy  conseillours  have  thilke 
three  condiciouns  that  I  have  seyd 
bifore;  that  is  to  seyn,  that  they  be 
trewe,  wyse,  and  of  old  experience./ 
And  werke  nat  alwey  in  every  nede 
l)y  oon  conseillour  allone;  for  som- 
tyme  bihoveth  it  to  been  conseilled 
by  manye.  /  For  Salomon  seith :  2360 
"  salvacioun  of  thinges  is  wher-as 
ther  been  manye  conseillours."  / 

§  22.  Now  sith  that  I  have  told 
yow  of  which  folk  ye  sholde  been 
counseilled,  now  wol  I  teche  yow 
which  conseil  ye  oghte  to  eschewe./ 
First  ye  shul  eschewe  the  conseilling 
offoles;  for  Salomon  seith  :  "  taak 
no  conseil  of  a  fool,  for  he  ne  can 
noght  conseille  but  after  his  owcne 
lust  and  his  affeccioun."  /  The 
book  seith  :  that  "the  propretee  of 
a  fool  is  this;  he  troweth  lightly 
harm  of  every  wight,  and  lightly 
troweth  alle  bountee  in  him-self."  / 
Thou  shalt  eek  eschewe  the  con- 
seilling of  alle  flatereres,  swiche  as 
enforcen  hem  rather  to  preise  your 
persone  l)y  flaterye  than  for  to  telle 
yow  the  sothfastnesse  of  thinges./   2365 

§  23.  Wherfore  Tullius  seith  : 
"  anKjnges  alle  the  pestilences  that 
been  in    freendshipe,  the   gretteste 


2366-2394-] 


B.     THE  TALE   OF  MELIBEUS. 


563 


IS    Haterye."       And    therfore    is    it 
more  iiedc  tliat  thuu  eschewc  and 
drede  Hatereres  than  any  other  pe- 
ple.  /       The    i)oolc    seith :    "  thou 
shalt  rather  drede  and  tiee  fro  the 
svvete  wonies  of  flateringc  preiseres, 
than  fro  the  egre  wordes  of  thy  freend 
that     seith     thee     thy     suthes."  / 
Salomon    seith,   that    "  the    wordes 
of  a  flatercre  is  a  snare  to  cacche 
with  innocents."/      He  seith  also, 
that  "  he  that  speketh  to  his  freend 
wordes  of  swetnesse   and   of   ples- 
aunce,  setteth  a  net  biforn  his  feet 
to    cacche    him."  /     Anil    therfore 
seith  Tullius:    "  enclyne  nat  thyne 
eres  to  Hatereres,  ne  taketh  no  con- 
2370  sell  of  wordes  of  tlaterye."  /     And 
Caton  seith  :   "  avyse  thee  wel,  and 
eschewe    the    wordes  of  swetnesse 
and    of    plesaunce."  /       And    eek 
thou  shalt  eschewe  the  conseilling 
of    thyne    olde    enemys    that    been 
reconsiled.  /    The  book  seith  :  that 
"  no  wight   retourneth    saufly  in-to 
the    grace    of    his   olde    enemy."  / 
And   Isope  seith  :   "  ne  trust  nat  to 
hem  to  whiche  thou  hast  had  som- 
tyme   werre   or    enmitee,   ne    telle 
hem     nat     thy     conseil."  /       And 
Seneca  telleth  the  cause  why.     "  It 
may  nat  be,"  seith  he,  "  that,  where 
greet  fyr  hath  longe  tyme  endured, 
that  ther  ne   dwelleth   som  vapour 
2375  of   warmnesse."  /       And    therfore 
seith    Salomon  :  "  in  thyn  olde  foo 
trust  never."  /      For  sikerly,  though 
thyn  enemy  be  reconsiled  and  mak- 
eth   thee    chere    of  humilitee,    and 
louteth  to  thee   with   his   heed,   ne 
trust  him  never.  /      For  certes,  he 
maketh    thilke     feyned     humilitee 
more  for  his  profit  than  for  any  love 
of  thy  person e;    by-cause  that  he 
demeth   to  have   victorie  over  thy 
persone    by    swich     feyned    conte- 
nance,  the  which  victorie  he  mighte 
nat  have  by  stryf  or  werre.  /     .And 
Peter    Alfonce    seith :     "  make    no 
felawshipe  with  thyne  olde  enemys; 
for  if  thou   do   hem   bountee,  they 
wol     perverten     it     in-to    wikked- 
nesse."  /       And     eek    thou    nmst 


eschewe  the  conseilling  of  hem  that 
been  thy  servants,  and  beren  thee 
greet  reverence;  for  peraventure 
they  seyn  it  more  for  drede  than 
for  love.  /  And  therfore  seith  a  23S0 
philosophre  in  this  wyse :  "ther 
is  no  wight  parfitly  trewe  to  him 
that  he  to  sore  dredeth."  /  And 
Tullius  seith  :  "  ther  nis  no  might 
so  greet  of  any  emperour,  that  longe 
may  endure,  but-if  he  have  more 
love  of  the  peple  than  drede."  / 
Thou  shalt  also  eschewe  the  con- 
seiling  of  folk  that  lieen  dronke- 
lewe ;  for  they  ne  can  no  conseil 
hyde.  /  For  Salomon  seith  :  "  ther 
is  no  privetee  ther-as  regneth 
dronkenesse."  /  Ye  shul  also  han 
in  suspect  the  conseilling  of  swich 
folk  as  conseille  yow  a  thing  prively, 
and  conseille  yow  the  contrarie 
openly.  /  For  Cassidorie  seith  :  23S5 
that  "  it  is  a  maner  sleighte  to  hin- 
dre,  whan  he  sheweth  to  doon  a 
thing  openly  and  wetketh  prively 
the  contrarie."  /  Thou  shalt  also 
have  in  suspect  the  conseilling  of 
wikked  folk.  For  the  book  seith : 
"  the  conseilling  of  wikked  folk 
is  ahvey  ful  of  fraude :  "  /  And 
David  seith  :  "  blisful  is  that  man 
that  hath  nat  folwed  the  conseilling 
of  shrewes."  /  Thou  shalt  also 
eschewe  the  conseilling  of  yong 
folk;    for  hir  conseil  is  nat  rype.  / 

§  24.  Now  sir,  sith  I  have 
shewed  yow  of  which  folk  ye  shul 
take  your  conseil,  and  of  which 
folk  ye  shul  folwe  the  conseil,  /  2390 
now  wol  I  teche  yow  how  ye  shal 
examine  your  conseil,  after  the 
doctrine  of  Tullius.  /  In  the  ex- 
amininge  thanne  of  your  conseil- 
lour,  ye  shul  considere  manye 
thinges.  /  Alderfirst  thou  shalt 
considere,  that  in  thilke  thing  that 
thou  purposcst,  and  upon  what 
thing  thou  wolt  have  conseil,  that 
verray  trouthe  be  seyd  and  con- 
served; this  is  to  seyn,  telle  trewely 
thy  tale.  /  For  he  that  seith  fals 
may  nat  »vel  be  conseilled,  in  that 
ens  nf  which  he  lyeth.  /    And  after 


564 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2395-2423- 


this,  thou  shalt  considere  the 
thinges  that  acorden  to  that  thou 
purposest  for  to  do  by  thy  conseil- 

2395  lours,  if  resoun  accorde  therto;  / 
and  eek,  if  thy  might  may  atteine 
ther-to;  and  if  the  more  part  and 
the  bettre  part  of  thy  conseillours 
acorde  ther-to,  or  no.  /  Thanne 
shaltou  considere  v^hat  thing  shal 
folwe  of  that  conseilling;  as  hate, 
pees,  werre,  grace,  profit,  or  dam- 
age; and  manye  othere  thinges.  / 
And  in  alle  thise  thinges  thou  shalt 
chese  the  beste,  and  weyve  alle 
othere  thinges.  /  Thanne  shaltow 
considere  of  what  rote  is  engendred 
the  matere  of  thy  conseil,  and  what 
fruit  it  may  conceyve  and  engen- 
dre./  Thou  shalt  eek  considere 
alle  thise  causes,  fro  whennes  they 

2400  been  sprongen.  /  And  whan  ye 
han  examined  your  conseil  as  I 
have  seyd,  and  which  partie  is  the 
bettre  and  more  profitable,  and  hast 
approved  it  'by  manye  wyse  folk 
and  olde;  /  thanne  shaltou  con- 
sidere, if  thou  mayst  parfourne  it 
and  maken  of  it  a  good  ende.  / 
For  certes,  resoun  wol  nat  that  any 
man  sholde  biginne  a  thing,  but-if 
he  mighte  parfourne  it  as  him 
oghte./  Ne  no  wight  sholde  take 
up-on  hym  so  hevy  a  charge  that  he 
mighte  nat  bere  it.  /  For  the  pro- 
verbe    seith :    "  he    that    to    muche 

2405  embraceth,  distreyneth  litel."  / 
And  Catoun  seith :  "  assay  to  do 
swich  thing  as  thou  hast  power  to 
doon,  lest  that  the  charge  oppresse 
thee  so  sore,  that  thee  bihoveth  to 
weyve  thing  that  thou  hast  bi- 
gonne."  /  And  if  so  be  that  thou 
be  in  doute,  whether  thou  mayst  par- 
fourne a  thing  or  noon,  chese  rather 
to  suffre  than  biginne.  /  And 
Piers  Alphonce  seith :  "  if  thou 
hast  might  to  doon  a  thing  of  which 
thou  most  repente  thee,  it  is  bettre 
'  nay  '  than  '  ye  ';  "  /  this  is  to  seyn, 
that  thee  is  l:)ettre  holde  thy  tonge 
stille,  than  for  to  speke.  /  Thanne 
may  ye  understonde  by  strenger 
resons,  that  if  thou  hast  power  to 


parfourne  a  werk  of  which  thou 
shalt  repente,  thanne  is  it  bettre 
that  thou  suffre  than  biginne.  /  2410 
Wei  seyn  they,  that  defenden  every 
wight  to  assaye  any  thing  of  which 
he  is  in  doute,  whether  he  may 
parfourne  it  or  no.  /  And  after, 
whan  ye  han  examined  your  conseil 
as  I  have  seyd  biforn,  and  knowen 
wel  that  ye  may  parfourne  youre 
emprise,  conferme  it  thanne  sadly 
til  it  be  at  an  ende.  / 

§  25.  Now  is  it  resoun  and  tyme 
that  I  shewe  yow  whanne,  and 
wherfore,  that  ye  may  chaunge 
your  conseil  with-outen  your  re- 
preve.  /  Soothly,  a  man  may 
chaungen  his  purpos  and  his  con- 
seil if  the  cause  cesseth,  or  whan 
a  newe  caas  bitydeth.  /  For  the 
lawe  seith :  that  "  upon  thinges 
that  newely  bityden  bihoveth  newe 
conseil."  /  And  Senek  seith  :  2415 
"  if  thy  conseil  is  comen  to  the  eres 
of  thyn  enemy,  chaunge  thy  con- 
seil." /  Thou  mayst  also  chaunge 
thy  conseil  if  so  be  that  thou  finde 
that,  by  errour  or  by  other  cause, 
harm  or  damage  may  bityde.  / 
Also,  if  thy  conseil  be  dishonest,  or 
elles  Cometh  of  dishoneste  cause, 
chaunge  thy  conseil.  /  For  the 
lawes  seyn :  that  "  alle  bihestes 
that  been  dishoneste  been  of  no 
value."  /  And  eek,  if  it  so  be 
that  it  be  inpossible,  or  may  nat 
goodly  be  parfourned  or  kept.  /         2420 

§  26.  And  take  this  for  a  general 
reule,  that  every  conseil  that  is 
affermed  so  strongly  that  it  may 
nat  be  chaunged,  for  no  condicioun 
that  may  bityde,  I  seye  that  thilke 
conseil  is  wikked.'  / 

§  27.  This  Melibeus,  whanne  he 
hadde  herd  the  doctrine  of  his  wyf 
dame  Prudence,  answerde  in  this 
wyse.  /  '  Dame,'  quod  he,  '  as 
yet  in-to  this  tyme  ye  han  wel  and 
covenaljly  taught  me  as  in  general, 
how  I  shal  governe  me  in  the 
chesinge  and  in  the  withholdinge 
of  my  conseillours.  /  But  now 
wolde  I  fayn  that  ye  wolde  conde- 


2424-2455-] 


B.    THE  TALE  OF   MELIBEUS. 


565 


scende  in  especial,  /  and  telle  me 
how  lyketh  yow,  or  what  semcth 
vow,    by  uur  conseillours    that   we 

2425  han  chosen  in  our  present  nede.'  / 
§  28.  '  My  lord,'  (]uod  she,  '  I 
biseke  yow  in  al  huinblesse,  that 
ye  wol  nat  wilfully  replye  agayn 
my  resouns,  ne  deslenipre  your 
herte  tht>gh  I  speke  thing  that 
yow  displese.  /  For  god  wot  that, 
as  in  niyn  entente,  I  speke  it  for 
your  bestc,  for  your  honour  and 
for  your  profile  eke.  /  And  soothly, 
I  hope  that  your  benignitee  wol 
taken  it  in  pacience.  /  Trusteth 
me  wel,'  quod  she,  '  that  your  con- 
seil  as  in  this  caas  ne  sholde  nat, 
as  to  speke  properly,  be  called  a 
conseilling,  but  a  mocioun  or  a 
nu)evyng  of  folye;  /  in  which  con- 
seil  ye  han  erred  in  many  a  sondry 

2430  wyse./ 

§  29.  First  and  forward,  ye  han 
erred  in  thasseniblinge  of  your  con- 
seillours.  /  For  ye  sholde  first 
have  cleped  a  fewe  folk  to  your 
conseil,  and  after  ye  mighte  han 
shewed  it  to  mo  folk,  if  it  hadde 
been  nede.  /  But  certes,  ye  han 
sodeynly  cleped  to  your  conseil  a 
greet  multitude  of  peple,  ful  charge- 
ant  and  ful  anoyous  for  to  here.  / 
Also  ye  han  erred,  for  there-as  ye 
sholden  only  have  cleped  to  your 
conseil  your  trewe  freendes  olde 
and  wyse,  /  ye  han  y-cleped 
straunge  folk,  and  yong  folk,  false 
fiatereres,  and  enemys  recon- 
siled,    and    folk     that    doon     yow 

2435  reverence  wilh-outen  love.  /  And 
eek  also  ye  have  erred,  for  ye  han 
broght  with  yow  to  your  conseil 
ire,  covetise,  and  hastifnesse;  / 
the  whiche  three  thingos  been  con- 
trariouse  to  every  conseil  honeste 
and  profitable;  /  the  whiche  three 
thinges  ye  han  nat  anientissed  or  de- 
stroyed hem,  neither  in  your-self  ne 
in  your  conseillours,  as  yow  oghte.  / 
Ye  han  erred  also,  for  ye  han  shewe<l 
to  your  conseillours  your  talent, 
and  your  affeccioun  to  make  werre 
anon    and  for  to    do  vengeance;/ 


they  han  espyed  by  your  wordes  to 
what  thing  ye  been  enclyned.  /  2440 
And  therfore  han  they  rather  con- 
seilled  yow  to  your  talent  than  to 
your  profit.  /  Ve  han  erred  also, 
for  it  semeth  that  yow  suffyseth  to 
han  been  conseilled  by  thise  con- 
seillours only,  and  with  litel  avys;  / 
wher-as,  in  so  greet  and  so  heigh  a 
nede,  it  hadde  been  necessarie  mo 
conseillours,  and  more  deliberacioun 
to  parfiiurne  your  emprise.  /  Ye 
han  erred  also,  for  ye  han  nat  ex- 
amined your  conseil  in  the  forseyde 
manere,  ne  in  due  manere  as  the 
caas  requireth.  /  Ye  han  erred 
also,  for  ye  han  maked  no  divisioun 
bitwixe  your  conseillours;  this  is  to 
seyn,  bitwixen  your  trewe  freendes 
and  your  feyned  conseillours;  /  ne  2^/^ 
ye  han  nat  knowe  the  wil  of  your 
trewe  freendes  olde  and  wyse;  / 
but  ye  han  cast  alle  hir  wordes  in 
an  hochepot,  and  enclyned  your 
herte  to  the  more  part  and  to  the 
gretter  nombre;  and  ther  been  ye 
condescended./  Anri  sith  ye  wot 
wel  that  men  shal  alwey  finde  a 
gretter  nombre  of  foles  than  of 
wyse  men,  /  and  therfore  the  con- 
seils  that  been  at  congregaciouns 
and  multitudes  of  folk,  ther-as  men 
take  more  reward  to  the  nombre 
than  to  the  sapience  of  persones,  / 
ye  see  wel  that  in  swiche  conseil- 
linges  foles  han  the  maistrie,'  /  2450 
Melibeus  answerde  agayn,  and 
seyde  :  '  I  graunte  wel  that  I  have 
erred;  /  but  ther-as  thou  hast  told 
me  heer-biforn,  that  he  nis  nat  to 
blame  that  chaungeth  hise  conseil- 
lours in  certein  caas,  and  for  cer- 
teine  luste  causes,  /  I  am  al  redy 
to  chaunge  my  conseillours,  right 
as  thow  wolt  devyse.  /  The  pro- 
verbe  seith  :  that  "  for  to  do  sinne 
is  mannish,  but  certes  for  to  perse- 
vere longe  in  sinne  is  werk  of  the 
(level."  '  / 

§  30.    To  this  sentence  answerde 
anon  dame  Prudence,  and  seyde :  /  2455 
'  Examinetli,'  qU(Kl  she,  '  your  con- 
seil, and  lat  us    see  the  whiche  of 


566 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[2456-2493. 


hem  han  spoken  most  resonably, 
and  taught  yow  best  conseil.  /  And 
for-as-uiuche  as  that  the  examina- 
cioun  is  necessarie,  iat  us  liiginne  at 
the  surgiens  and  at  the  phisiciens, 
that  first  spcken  in  this  matere.  / 
I  sey  yow,  that  the  surgiens  and 
phisiciens  han  seyd  yow  in  your 
conseil  discreetly,  as  hem  oughte;  / 
and  in  hir  speche  seyden  ful  wysly, 
that  to  the  office  of  hem  aperteneth 
to  doon  to  every  wight  honour  and 
profit,  and  no  wight  for  to  anoye;  / 
and,  after  hir  craft,  to  doon  greet 
diligence  un-to  the  cure  of  hem 
whiche  that  they  han  in  hir  govern- 

2460  aunce.  /  And  sir,  right  as  they  han 
answered  wysly  and  discreetly,  / 
right  so  rede  I -that  they  been 
heighly  and  sovereynly  guerdoned 
for  hir  noble  speche;  /  and  eek  for 
they  sholde  do  the  more  ententif 
bisinesse  in  the  curacioun  of  your 
doghter  dere.  /  For  al-be-it  so 
that  they  been  your  freendes,  ther- 
fore  shal  ye  nat  suffren  that  they 
serve  yow  for  noght ;  /  but  ye  oghte 
the  rather  guerdone  hem  and  shewe 

2465  hem  your  largesse.  /  And  as  touch- 
inge  the  proposicioun  which  that 
the  phisiciens  entreteden  in  this 
caas,  this  is  to  seyn,  /  that,  in  mala- 
dyes,  that  oon  contrarie  is  warisshed 
by  another  contrarie,  /  I  wolde 
fayn  knowe  how  ye  understonde 
thilke  text,  and  what  is  your  sen- 
tence.'/  '  Certes,'  quod  Melibeus, 
'I  understonde  it  in  this  wyse:/ 
that,  right  as  they  han  doon  me  a 
contrarie,  right    so    sholde    I    doon 

2470  hem  another.  /  For  right  as  they 
han  venged  hem  on  me  and  doon 
me  wrong,  right  so  shal  I  venge  me 
upon  hem  and  doon  hem  wrong;  / 
and  thanne  have  I  cured  oon  con- 
trarie Ijy  another.'  / 

§  31.  '  Lo,  lo  ! '  quod  dame  Pru- 
dence, '  how  lightly  is  every  man 
enclyned  to  his  owene  desyr  and  to 
his  owene  plesaunce  !  /  Certes,' 
quod  she,  '  the  wordes  of  the  phisi- 
ciens ne  sholde  nat  han  been  under- 
stonden  in  this  wyse.  /    For  certes, 


wikkednesse  is  nat  contrarie  to  wik- 
kednesse,  ne  vengeaunce  to  ven- 
geaunce,  ne  wrong  to  wrong;  but 
they  been  semblable.  /  And  ther-  2475 
fore,  o  vengeaunce  is  nat  warisshed 
by  another  vengeaunce,  ne  o  wrung 
by  another  wrong;  /  but  everich 
of  hem  encreesceth  and  aggreggcth 
other.  /  But  certes,  the  wordes  of 
the  phisiciens  sholde  been  under- 
stonden  in  this  wyse :  /  for  good 
and  wikkednesse  been  two  contra- 
ries, and  pees  and  werre,  venge- 
aunce and  suffraunce,  discord  and 
accord,  and  manye  othere  thinges./ 
But  certes,  wikkednesse  shal  be  war- 
isshed by  goodnesse,  discord  by  ac- 
cord, werre  by  pees,  and  so  forth  of 
othere  thinges.  /  And  heer-to  ac-  2480 
cordeth  Seint  Paul  the  apostle  in 
manye  places.  /  He  seith  :  "  ne 
yeldeth  nat  harm  for  harm,  ne  wik- 
ked  speche  for  wikked  speche;  / 
but  do  wel  to  him  that  dooth  thee 
harm,  and  blesse  him  that  seith  to 
thee  harm."  /  And  in  manye  oth- 
ere places  he  amonesteth  pees  and 
accord.  /  But  now  wol  1  speke  to 
yow  of  the  conseil  which  that  was 
yeven  to  yow  by  the  men  of  lawe 
and  the  wyse  folk,  /  that  seyden  24S5 
alle  by  oon  accord  as  ye  han  herd 
bifore;  /  that,  over  alle  thynges,  ye 
sholde  doon  your  diligence  to  kepen 
your  persone  and  to  warnestore 
your  hous.  /  And  seyden  also,  that 
in  this  caas  ye  oghten  forlo  werken 
ful  avysely  and  with  greet  delibera- 
cioun.  /  And  sir,  as  to  the  firstc 
point,  that  touchcth  to  the  keping 
of  your  persone;  /  ye  shul  under- 
stonde that  he  that  hath  werre  shal 
evermore  mekely  and  devoutly 
preyen  biforn  alle  thinges,  /  that  2490 
lesus  Crist  of  his  grete  mercy  wol 
han  him  in  his  proteccioun,  and 
been  his  sovereyn  helping  at  his 
nede.  /  For  certes,  in  this  world 
ther  is  no  wight  that  may  be  con- 
seilled  ne  kept  suffisantly  withouten 
the  keping  of  our  lord  lesu  Crist.  / 
To  this  sentence  accordeth  the 
prophete    David,  that  seith :  /   "if 


i 


2494-2525.] 


B,    THE  TALE   OF   MELIBEUS. 


567 


god  ne  kepc  the  citee,  in  ydel  wak- 
eth  he  that  it  kcjicth."  /  Now  sir, 
thannc  shul  yc  coimniltc  the  keping 
of  your  persune  to  your  trewe 
freendes    that    been   approved   and 

2495  y-knowe;  /  and  of  hem  shul  ye 
axen  help  your  jiersone  for  to  kepe. 
For  Catoun  seith :  "  if  thou  hast 
neile  of  help,  axe  it  of  thy  freendes;  / 
for  ther  nis  noon  so  good  a  phisi- 
cien  as  thy  trewe  freend."  /  And 
after  this,  thanne  shul  ye  kepe  yow 
fro  alle  straunge  folk,  and  fro  lyeres, 
and  have  alwey  in  sus])ect  hir  com- 
panye.  /  For  Tiers  Alfonce  seith  : 
"  ne  tali  no  companye  by  the  weye 
of  a  straunge  man,  but-if  so  be  that 
thou  have  knowe  him  of  a  lenger 
tyme.  /  And  if  so  be  that  he  falle 
in-to    thy    companye    paraventure 

2500  withouten  thyn  assent,  /  enquere 
thanne,  as  subtilly  as  thou  mayst,  of 
his  conversacioun  and  of  his  lyf  bi- 
fore,  and  feyne  thy  wey;  seye  that 
thou  goost  thider  as  thou  wolt  nat 
go;  /  and  if  he  bereth  a  spere,  hold 
thee  on  the  right  syde,  and  if  he 
here  a  swerd,  hold  thee  on  the  lift 
syde."  /  And  after  this,  thanne 
shul  ye  kepe  yow  wysely  from  alle 
swich  manere  peple  as  I  have  seyd 
bifore,  and  hem  and  hir  conseil  es- 
chewe.  /  And  after  this,  thanne 
shul  ye  kepe  yow  in  s\\  ich  manere,/ 
that  for  any  presumpcioun  of  your 
strengthe,  that  ye  ne  dispyse  nat  ne 
acounte  nat  the  might  of  your  ad- 
versarie  so  litel,  that  ye  lete  the 
keping    of   your   persone    for    your 

2505  presumpcioun;/  for  every  wys  man 
dredeth  his  enemy.  /  And  .Salo- 
mon seith  :  "  weleful  is  he  that  of 
alle  hath  drede;  /  for  certes,  he 
that  thurgh  the  hardinesse  of  his 
herte  and  thurgh  the  hardinesse  of 
him-self  hath  to  greet  presumpcioun, 
him  shal  yvel  bityde."  /  Ihanne 
shul  ye  evermore  countrewayte  em- 
busshements  and  alle  espiaille.  / 
For  Senek  seith  :  that  "  the  wyse 
man  that  dredeth  harmes  escheweth 
harmes;  /  ne  he  ne  falleth  in-toper- 

2510  ils,  that  perils  escheweth."  /  And  al- 


be-it  so  that  it  seme  that  thou  art  in 
siker  place,  yet  shaltuu  alwey  do  thy 
diligence  in  kepinge  ol  thy  per- 
sone ;  /  this  is  to  sey n,  ne  be  nat  nec- 
ligent  to  kepe  thy  persone,  nat  only 
fro  thy  gretteste  enemys  Ijut  fro  thy 
leeste  enemy.  /  Senek  seith  :  "  a 
man  that  is  wc\  avysetl,  he  dredeth 
his  leste  enemy."  /  C)vide  seith : 
that  "  the  litel  wesele  wol  slee  the 
grete  bole  and  the  wilde  hert."  /  2515 
And  the  book  seith:  "a  litel  thorn 
may  prikke  a  greet  king  ful  sore; 
and  an  hound  wol  holde  the  wilde 
boor."  /  ]]ut  nathelees,  I  sey  nat 
thou  shall  be  so  coward  that  thou 
doute  ther  wher-as  is  no  dreile.  / 
The  book  seith  :  that  "  somme  folk 
han  greet  lust  to  deceyve,  but  yet 
they  dreden  hem  to  be  deceyved."/ 
Yet  shaltou  drede  to  been  empois- 
oned, and  kepe  yow  from  the  com- 
panye of  scorneres.  /  For  the  book 
seith:  "with  scorneres  make  no 
companye,  but  flee  hir  wordes  as 
venim."  /  2520 

§  32.  Now  as  to  the  seconde 
point,  wher-as  your  wyse  conseil- 
lours  conseilled  yow  to  warnestore 
your  hous  with  gret  diligence,  /  I 
wolde  fayn  knowe,  how  that  ye 
understonde  thilke  wordes,  and 
what  is  your  sentence.'/ 

§  ^^.  jNIelibeus  answerde  and 
seyde,  '  Certes  I  understande  it  in 
this  wise;  that  I  shal  warnestore 
myn  hous  with  tourcs,  swiche  as 
han  castelles  and  othere  manere 
edifices,  and  armure  and  artel- 
leries,  /  by  whiche  thinges  I  may 
my  persone  and  myn  hous  so  kepen 
and  defenden,  that  myne  enemys 
shul  been  in  drede  myn  hous  for  to 
approche.'/ 

§  34.  To  this  sentence  answerde 
anon  Prudence;  '  warnestoring,' 
quod  she,  '  of  heighe  toures  and 
of  grete  edifices  apperteneth  som- 
tyme  to  pryde;  /  and  eek  men  2525 
make  heighe  toures  and  grete  edi- 
fices with  grete  costages  and  with 
greet  travaille;  and  whan  that  they 
been  accompliced,  yet  be  they  nat 


568 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2526-2562. 


worth  a  stree,  but-if  tliey  be  de- 
fended by  trewe  freendes  that  been 
olde  and  wyse.  /  And  understond 
wel,  that  the  gretteste  and  strong- 
este  garnison  that  a  riche  man  may 
have,  as  wel  to  kepen  his  persone 
as  hise  goodes,  is  /  that  he  be 
biloved  amonges  his  subgets  and 
with  hise  neighebores.  /  For  thus 
seith  TulHus  :  that  "  ther  is  a  maner 
garnison  that  no  man  may  ven- 
quisse  ne  disconfite,  and  that  is,  / 
a   lord  to  be   biloved  of  hise   cite- 

2530  zeins  and  of  his  peple."  / 

§  35.  Now  sir,  as  to  the  thridde 
point;  wher-as  your  olde  and  wise 
conseillours  seyden,  that  yow  ne 
oghte  nat  sodeynly  ne  hastily  pro- 
ceden  in  this  nede,  /  but  that  yow 
oghte  purveyen  and  apparaillen 
yow  in  this  caas  with  greet  dili- 
gence and  greet  deliberacioun;  / 
trewely,  I  trowe  that  they  seyden 
right  wysly  and  right  sooth.  /  For 
Tullius  seith,  "  in  every  nede,  er 
thou  biginne  it,  apparaille  thee 
with  greet  diligence."  /  Thanne 
seye  I,  that  in  vengeance-taking, 
in  werre,  in  bataille,  and  in  warnes- 

2535  toring,  /  er  thow  biginne,  I  rede 
that  thou  apparaille  thee  ther-to, 
and  do  it  with  greet  deliberacioun.  / 
For  Tullius  seith:  that  "long  ap- 
parailling  biforn  the  bataille  maketh 
short  victorie."  /  And  Cassidorus 
seith :  "  the  garnison  is  stronger 
whan  it  is  longe  tyme  avysed."  / 

§  36.  But  now  lat  us  speken  of 
the  conseil  that  was  accorded  by 
your  neighebores,  swiche  as  doon 
yow  reverence  withouten  love,  / 
your  olde  enemys  reconsiled,  your 

2540  tlatereres  /  that  conseilled  yow  cer- 
teyne  thinges  prively,  and  openly 
conseilleden  yow  the  contrarie;  / 
the  yonge  folk  also,  that  conseille- 
den yow  to  venge  yow  and  make 
werre  anon.  /  And  certes,  sir,  as 
I  have  seyd  biforn,  ye  han  greetly 
erred  to  han  cleped  swich  maner 
folk  to  your  conseil;  /  which  con- 
seillours been  y-nogh  repreved  by 
the   resouns    afore-seyd.      But   na- 


thelees,  lat  us  now  descende  to  the 
special.  Ye  shuln  first  procede 
after  the  doctrine  of  Tullius.  /  2545 
Certes,  the  trouthe  of  this  matere 
or  of  this  conseil  nedeth  nat  dili- 
gently enquere;  /  for  it  is  wel  wist 
whiche  they  been  that  han  doon  to 
yow  this  trespas  and  vileinye,  / 
and  how  manye  trespassours,  and 
in  what  manere  they  han  to  yow 
doon  al  this  wrong  and  al  this 
vileinye.  /  And  after  this,  thanne 
shul  ye  examine  the  seconde  con- 
dicioun,  which  that  the  same  Tul- 
lius addeth  in  this  matere.  /  For 
Tullius  put  a  thing,  which  that  he 
clepeth  "  consentinge,"  this  is  to 
seyn;  /  who  been  they  and  how  2550 
manye,  and  whiche  been  they,  that 
consenteden  to  thy  conseil,  in  thy 
wilfulnesse  to  doon  hastif  ven- 
geance. /  And  lat  us  considere 
also  who  been  they,  and  how 
manye  been  they,  and  whiche  been 
they,  that  consenteden  to  your 
adversaries.  /  And  certes,  as  to 
the  firste  poynt,  it  is  wel  knowen 
whiche  folk  been  they  that  con- 
senteden to  your  hastif  wilful- 
nesse; /  for  trevi'ely,  alle  tho  that 
conseilleden  yow  to  maken  sodeyn 
werre  ne  been  nat  your  freendes.  / 
Lat  us  now  considere  whiche  been 
they,  that  ye  holde  so  greetly  your 
freendes  as  to  your  persone.  /  For  2555 
al-be-it  so  that  ye  be  mighty  and 
riche,  certes  ye  ne  been  nat  but 
allone.  /  For  certes,  ye  ne  han  no 
child  but  a  doghter;  /  ne  ye  ne 
han  bretheren  ne  cosins  germayns, 
ne  noon  other  neigh  kinrede,  / 
wherfore  that  your  enemys,  for 
drede,  sholde  stinte  to  plede  with 
yow  or  to  destroye  your  persone.  / 
Ye  knowen  also,  that  your  richesses 
moten  been  dispended  in  diverse 
parties;  /  and  whan  that  every  2560 
wight  hath  his  part,  they  ne  wollen 
taken  but  litel  reward  to  venge  thy 
deeth.  /  But  thyne  enemys  been 
three,  and  they  han  manie  children, 
bretheren,  cosins,  and  other  ny 
kinrede;  /  and,    though    so    were 


2563-2598.] 


B.    THE  TALE  OF   MELIBEUS. 


569 


I 


that  thou  haddest  slayn  of  hem  two 
or  three,  yet  dwellen  ther  y-nowe 
to  wreken  hir  tleeth  antl  to  slee  thy 
persone.  /  And  though  so  be  that 
your  kinrede  be  iin)re  siker  and 
stedefast  than  the  kin  of  your 
adversarie,  /  yet  natlielees  your 
kinrede  nis  l^ut  a  fer  kinrede;    they 

2565  been  but  litel  sib  to  yow,  /  and  the 
kin  of  your  enemys  been  ny  sib  to 
hem.  And  certcs,  as  in  that,  hir 
condicioun  is  bet  than  youres.  / 
Thannc  lat  us  considere  also  if  the 
conseilling  of  hem  that  conseilleden 
yow  to  taken  sodeyn  vengeaunce, 
whether  it  accorde  to  resoun?  / 
And  certes,  ye  knowe  wel  "  nay."  / 
For  as  by  right  and  resoun,  ther 
may  no  man  taken  vengeance  on 
no  wight,  but  the  luge  that  hatli 
the  lurisdiccioun  of  it,  /  whan  it 
is  graunted  him  to  take  thilke  ven- 
geance,   hastily    or    attemprely,    as 

2570  the  lawe  requireth.  /  And  yet 
more-over,  of  thilke  word  that 
Tullius  clepeth  "  consentinge,"  / 
thou  shalt  considere  if  thy  might 
and  thy  power  may  consenten  and 
suffyse  to  thy  wilfulnesse  and  to 
thy  conseillours.  /  And  certes, 
thou  mayst  wel  seyn  that  "  nay."  / 
For  sikerly,  as  for  to  speke  proprely, 
we  may  do  no-thing  but  only  swich 
thing  as  we  may  doon  rightfully.  / 
And  certes,  rightfully  ne  mowe  ye 
take  no  vengeance  as  of  your  pro- 

2575  pre  auctoritee.  /  Thanne  mowe  ye 
seen,  that  your  power  ne  consenteth 
nat  ne  accordeth  nat  with  your  wil- 
fulnesse. /  Lat  us  now  examine 
the  thridde  point  that  Tullius 
clepeth  "  consequent."  /  Thou 
shalt  understonde  that  the  ven- 
geance that  thou  purposest  for  to 
take  is  the  consequent.  /  And 
ther-of  folweth  another  vengeaunce, 
peril,  and  werre;  and  othere  dam- 
ages with-outc  nonibre,  of  whiche 
we  be  nat  war  as  at  this  tyme.  / 
And  as  touchinge  the  fourthe  point, 
that     Tullius      clepeth      "  engend- 

2580  ringe,"  /  thou  shalt  considere,  that 
this  wrong  which   that  is  doon   to 


thee  is  engendred  of  the  hate  of 
thyne  enemys;  /  and  <jf  the  ven- 
gcance-takingc  upon  that  woUle 
engendre  another  vengeance,  and 
niuchel  sorwe  and  wastinge  of 
richesses,  as  I  seyde.  / 

§  37.  Now  sir,  as  to  the  point 
that  Tullius  clepeth  "  causes,"  which 
that  is  the  laste  point,  /  thou  shalt 
understonde  that  the  wrong  that 
thou  hast  receyved  hath  certeine 
causes,  /  whiche  that  clerkes  cle- 
pen  Oriens  and  F.fficiens,  and 
Causa  loni^inqua  and  Causa  pro- 
piiiqua ;  this  is  to  seyn,  the  fer 
cause  and  the  ny  cause.  /  The  fer  2585 
cause  is  almighty  god,  that  is  cause 
of  alle  thinges.  /  The  neer  cause  is 
thy  three  enemys.  /  The  cause 
accidental  was  hate.  /  The  cause 
material  been  the  fyve  woundes  of 
thy  doghter.  /  The  cause  formal 
is  the  manere  of  hir  werkinge,  that 
broghten  laddres  and  cloumben  in 
at  thy  windowes.  /  The  cause  final  2590 
was  for  to  slee  thy  doghter  ;  it  letted 
nat  in  as  muche  as  in  hem  was.  / 
But  for  to  speken  of  the  fer  cause, 
as  to  what  ende  they  shul  come,  or 
what  shal  finally  bityde  of  hem  in 
this  caas,  ne  can  I  nat  deme  but  by 
coniectinge  and  by  supposinge.  / 
For  we  shul  suppose  that  they  shul 
come  to  a  wikked  ende,  /  by-cause 
that  the  Book  of  Decrees  seith  : 
"  selden  or  with  greet  peyne  been 
causes  y-broght  to  good  ende 
whanne  they  been  baddely  bi- 
gonne."  / 

§  38.  Now  sir,  if  men  wolde  axe 
me,  why  that  god  suffied  men  to  do 
yow  this  vileinye,  certes,  I  can  nat 
wel  answere  as  for  no  sothfast- 
nesse.  /  Yon  thapostle  seith,  that  2595 
"the  sciences  and  the  luggementz 
of  our  lord  god  almighty  been  ful 
depe  ;  /  ther  may  no  man  com- 
prehende  ne  serchen  hem  sufifi- 
santly."  /  Nathelees,  by  certeyne 
presumpcions  and  coniectinges,  I 
holde  and  bileve  /  that  god, 
which  that  is  ful  of  Justice  and 
of      rightwisnessc,       hath      suffred 


570 


thp:  cantp:rbury  tales. 


[2599-2634. 


this  bityde   by  luste    cause   reson- 
able.  / 

§  39.  Thy  name  is  MeHbee,  this 
is  to   seyn,  "  a    man  that  drinketh 

2600  hony."  /  Thou  hast  y-dronke  so 
muchel  hony  of  svvete  temporal 
richesses  and  delices  and  honours 
of  this  world,  /  that  thou  art 
dronken  ;  and  hast  forgeten  lesu 
Crist  thy  creatour  ;  /  thou  ne  hast 
nat  doon  to  him  swich  honour  and 
reverence  as  thee  oughte.  /  Ne 
thou  ne  hast  nat  wel  y-taken  kepe 
to  the  wordes  of  Ovide,  that  seith  :  / 
"  under  the  hony  of  the  godes  of 
the  body  is  hid  the  venim  that  sleeth 

2605  the  soule."  /  And  Salomon  seith, 
"  if  thou  hast  founden  hony,  ete  of 
it  that  suffyseth  ;  /  for  if  thou  ete 
of  it  out  of  mesure,  thou  shalt 
spewe,"  and  be  nedy  and  povre.  / 
And  peraventure  Crist  hath  thee  in 
despit,  and  hath  turned  awey  fro 
thee  his  face  and  hise  eres  of  mise- 
ricorde  ;  /  and  also  he  hath  suffred 
that  thou  hast  been  punisshed  in 
the  manere  that  thow  hast  y-tres- 
passed.  /     Thou    hast    doon    sinne 

2610  agayn  our  lord  Crist  ;  /  for  certes, 
the  three  enemys  of  mankinde,  that 
is  to  seyn,  the  flessh,  the  feend,  and 
the  world,  /  thou  hast  suffred  hem 
entre  in-to  thyn  herte  wilfully  l)y 
the  windowes  of  thy  body,  /  and 
hast  nat  defended  thy-self  suffisantly 
agayns  hir  assautes  and  hir  temp- 
taciouns,  so  that  they  han  wounded 
thy  soule  in  fyve  places  ;  /  this  is 
to  seyn,  the  deedly  sinnes  that  been 
entred  in-to  thyn  herte  by  thy  fyve 
wittes.  /  And  in  the  same  manere 
our  lord  Crist  hath  wold  and  suffred, 
that  thy  three  enemys  been  entred 

2615  in-to  thyn  hous  by  the  windowes,  / 
and  han  y-wounded  thy  doghter  in 
the  fore-seyde  manere.'  / 

§  40.  '  Certes,'  quod  Melibee,  '  I 
see  wel  that  ye  enforce  yow  muchel 
by  wordes  to  overcome  me  in  swich 
manere,  that  I  shal  nat  venge  me  of 
myne  enemys  ;  /  shewinge  me  the 
perils  and  the  yvels  that  mighten 
falle    of    this    vengeance.  /       But 


who-so  wolde  considere  in  alle 
vengeances  the  perils  and  yveles 
that  mighte  sewe  of  vengeance- 
takinge,  /  a  man  wolde  never  take 
vengeance,  and  that  were  harm  ;  /  2620 
for  by  the  vengeance-takinge  been 
the  wikked  men  dissevered  fro  the 
gode  men.  /  And  they  that  han 
wil  to  do  wikkednesse  restreyne 
hir  wikked  purpos,  whan  they  seen 
the  punissinge  and  chastysinge  of 
the  trespassours.'  /  [And  to  this 
answerde  dame  Prudence  :  '  Certes,' 
seyde  she,  '  I  graunte  wel  that  of 
vengeaunce  cometh  muchel  yvel 
and  muchel  good  ;  /  but  ven- 
geaunce-taking  aperteneth  nat  unto 
everichoon,  but  only  unto  luges  and 
unto  hem  that  han  lurisdiccioun 
upon  the  trespassours.]  /  And  yet 
seye  I  more,  that  right  as  a  singuler 
persone  sinneth  in  takinge  ven- 
geance of  another  man,  /  right  so  2625 
sinneth  the  luge  if  he  do  no  ven- 
geance of  hem  that  it  han  deserved.  / 
For  Senek  seith  thus  :  "  that  mais- 
ter,"  he  seith,  "is  good  that  prov- 
eth  shrewes."  /  And  as  Cassi- 
dore  seith  :  "A  man  dredeth  to 
do  outrages,  whan  he  woot  and 
knoweth  that  it  displeseth  to  the 
luges  and  sovereyns."  /  And 
another  seith  :  "  the  luge  that 
dredeth  to  do  right,  maketh  men 
shrewes."  /  And  Seint  Paule  the 
apostle  seith  in  his  epistle,  whan  he 
wryteth  un-to  the  Romayns  :  that 
"  the  luges  beren  nat  the  spere 
with-outen  cause  ;  "  /  but  they  2630 
beren  it  to  punisse  the  shrewes  and 
misdoeres,  and  for  to  defende  the 
gode  men.  /  If  ye  wol  thanne 
take  vengeance  of  your  enemys,  ye 
shul  retourne  or  have  your  recours 
to  the  luge  that  hath  the  lurisdic- 
cion  up-on  hem  ;  /  and  he  shal 
punisse  hem  as  the  lawe  axeth  and 
requyreth.'  / 

§41.  'A!'  quod  MeHbee,  'this 
vengeance  lyketh  me  no-thing.  / 
I  bithenke  me  now  and  take  hede, 
how  fortune  hath  norissed  me  fro 
my  childhede,  and  hath  holpen  me 


2635-2671.] 


B.    THE  TALE   OK   MELIBEUS. 


571 


» 


P 


3635  ^"  passe  many  a  strung  pas.  / 
■  Now  wol  I  assayen  liir,  trowingc, 
with  gucldcs  lielji,  that  she  shal 
hclpc  me  my  shame  for  to  venge.'  / 
§  42.  '  Certes,'  (juod  I'ruilencc, 
'  if  ye  wol  werke  by  my  conseil,  ye 
shul  nat  assaye  fortune  by  no  wey ;  / 
ne  ye  shul  nat  lene  or  bowe  unto 
hir,  after  the  word  of  Senek  :  /  for 
"  thinges  tliat  been  foHly  chjon,  and 
that  been  in  hope  of  fortune,  shuUen 
never  come  to  good  ende."  /  Ami 
as  the  same  Senek  seith :  "  the 
more  cleer  and  the  more  shyning 
that  fortune  is,  the  more  brotil  and 

2640  the  sonner  broken  she  is."  /  Trust- 
eth  nat  in  hir,  for  she  nis  nat  stide- 
fast  ne  stable;  /  for  whan  thow 
trowest  to  be  most  seur  or  siker  of 
hir  help,  she  wol  faille  thee  and 
deceyve  thee.  /  And  wher-as  ye 
seyn  that  fortune  hath  norissed  yow 
fro  your  childhede,  /  I  seye,  that  in 
so  muchel  shul  ye  the  lasse  truste  in 
hir  and  in  hir  wit.  /  For  Senek 
seith :  "  what  man  that  is  norissed 
by  fortune,  she  mak-"th  him  a  greet 

2645  fool."  /  Now  thanne,  sin  ye  desyre 
and  axe  vengeance,  and  the  ven- 
geance that  is  doon  after  the  lawe 
and  bift)re  the  luge  ne  lyketh  yow 
nat,  /  and  the  vengeance  that  is 
doon  in  hope  of  fortune  is  perilous 
and  uncertein,  /  thanne  have  ye 
noon  other  remedie  but  for  to  have 
your  recours  unto  the  sovereyn  luge 
that  vengeth  alle  vileinyes  antl 
vvronges;  /  and  he  shal  venge  yow 
after  that  hini-self  witnesseth,  wher- 
as   he    seith  :  /  "  leveth    the    ven- 

2650  geance  to  me,  and  I  shal  do  it."  '  / 
§  43.  Melibee  answerde, 'if  I  ne 
venge  me  nat  of  the  vileinye  that 
men  han  doon  to  me,  /  I  sonipne 
or  warne  hem  that  han  doon  to  me 
that  vileinye  and  alle  othere,  to  do 
me  another  vileinye.  /  For  it  is 
writen:  "if  thou  take  no  ven- 
geance of  an  old  vileinye,  thou 
sompnest  thyne  adversaries  to  do 
thee  a  newe  vileinye."  /  And  also, 
for  my  suffrance,  men  wolden  do  to 
me  so  muchel  vileinye,  that  1  mighte 


neitlier  here  it  ne  sustene;  /  and  so 
sholde  I  been  i>ut  and  hoklen  over 
lowe.  /  For  men  seyn  :  "  in  2655 
muchel  sulTringe  shul  manye  thinges 
falle  un-to  thee  whiche  thou  shalt 
nat  mowe  suffre."  '  / 

§  44.  '  Certes,'  c[uod  Prudence, 
'  I  graunte  yow  that  over  muchel 
suffrauncc  nis  nat  good;  /  but  yet 
ne  folweth  it  nat  ther-of,  that  every 
persone  to  whom  men  doon  vileinye 
take  of  it  vengeance;  /  for  that 
aperteneth  and  U)ngeth  al  only  to 
the  luges,  for  they  shul  venge  the 
vileinyes  and  iniuries.  /  And  ther- 
fore  tho  two  auctoritees  that  ye  han 
seyd  above,  been  only  understonden 
in  the  luges;  /  ft)r  whan  they  suf-  2660 
fren  over  muchel  the  ^ronges  and 
the  vileinyes  to  be  doon  \\  ithouten 
punisshinge,  /  they  sompne  nat  a 
man  al  only  for  to  do  newe  wronges, 
but  they  comanden  it.  /  Also  a 
wys  man  seith  :  that  "the  luge  that 
correcteth  nat  the  sinnere  comand- 
eth  and  biddeth  him  do  sinne."  / 
And  the  luges  and  sovereyns 
mighten  in  hir  land  so  muchel  suffre 
of  the  shrewes  and  misdocres,  / 
that  they  sholden  by  swich  suflrance, 
by  proces  of  tyme,  wexen  of  swich 
power  and  might,  that  they  sholden 
putte  out  the  luges  antl  the  sover- 
eyns from  hir  places,  /  and  atte  2665 
laste  maken  hem  lesen  hir  lord- 
shipes.  / 

§  45.  But  lat  us  now  putte,  that 
ye  have  leve  to  venge  yow.  /  I 
seye  ye  been  nat  of  might  and 
power  as  now  to  venge  yow.  /  For 
if  ye  wole  maken  comparisoun  un- 
to the  might  of  your  adversaries,  ye 
shul  finde  in  manye  thinges,  that  I 
have  shewed  yow  er  this,  that  hir 
condicioun  is  bettre  than  youres.  / 
And  therfure  seye  I,  that  it  is  good 
as  now  that  ye  suffre  and  be  pa- 
cient.  /  2670 

§  46.  Forther-more,  ye  knowen 
wel  that,  after  the  comune  savve,  "  it 
is  a  woodnesse  a  man  to  stryve  with 
a  strenger  or  a  more  mighty  man 
than     he     is     him-self;  /    and    for 


572 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[2672-2707. 


to  stryve  with  a  man  of  evene 
strengthe,  that  is  to  seyn,  with  as 
strong  a  man  as  he,  it  is  peril;  / 
and  for  to  stryve  with  a  weyker 
man,  it  is  folic."  /  And  therfore 
sholde  a  man  flee  stryvinge  as 
muchel  as  he  mighte.  /  For  Salo- 
mon seith  :  "  it  is  a  greet  worship 
to   a  man   to  kepen  him  fro  noyse 

2675  ^'i*^'  stryf."  /  And  if  it  so  bifalle 
or  happe  that  a  man  of  gretter 
might  and  strengthe  than  thou  art 
do  thee  grevaunce,  /  studie  and 
bisie  thee  rather  to  stille  the  same 
grevaunce,  than  for  to  venge 
thee.  /  For  Senek  seith :  that 
"  he  putteth  him  in  greet  peril  that 
stryveth  with  a  gretter  man  than  he 
is  him-self."  /  And  Catoun  seith  : 
"  if  a  man  of  hyer  estaat  or  degree, 
or  more  mighty  than  thou,  do  thee 
anoy  or  grevaunce,  suffre  him;  / 
for  he  that  ones  hath  greved  thee 
may  another  tyme  releve  thee  and 

2680  helpe."  /  Yet  sette  I  caas,  ye  have 
bothe  might  and  licence  for  to 
venge  yow.  /  I  seye,  that  ther  be 
ful  manye  thinges  that  shul  restreyne 
yow  of  vengeance-takinge,  /  and 
make  yow  for  to  enclyne  to  suffre, 
and  for  to  han  pacience  in  the 
thinges  that  han  been  doon  to 
yow.  /  First  and  foreward,  if  ye 
wole  considere  the  defautes  that 
been  in  your  owene  person,  /  for 
whiche  defautes  god  hath  suffred 
yow  have  this  tribulacioun,  as  I  have 

2685  seyd  yow  heer-biforn.  /  For  the 
poete  seith,  that  "  we  oghte  pa- 
ciently  taken  the  tribulacions  that 
comen  to  us,  whan  we  thinken  and 
consideren  that  we  han  deserved  to 
have  hem."  /  And  Seint  Gregorie 
seith  :  that  "  whan  a  man  consider- 
eth  wel  the  nombre  of  hise  defautes 
and  of  his  sinnes,  /  the  peynes  and 
the  tribulaciouns  that  he  suffreth 
semen  the  lesse  un-to  hym;  /  and 
in-as-muche  as  him  thinketh  hise 
sinnes  more  hevy  and  grevous,  /  in- 
so-muche    semeth    his    peyne    the 

2690  lighter  and  the  esier  un-to  him."  / 
Also  ye  owen  to  enclyne  and  bowe 


your  herte  to  take  the  pacience  of 
our  lord  lesu  Crist,  as  seith  seint' 
Peter  in  hise  epistles:/  "lesu 
Crist,"  he  seith,  "  hath  suffred  for 
us,  and  yeven  ensample  to  every 
man  to  folwe  and  sewe  him;  /  for 
he  dide  never  sinne,  ne  never  cam 
ther  a  vileinous  word  out  of  his 
mouth :  /  whan  men  cursed  him, 
he  cursed  hem  noght;  and  whan 
men  betten  him,  he  manaced  hem 
noght."  /  Also  the  grete  pacience, 
which  the  seintes  that  been  in  para- 
dys  han  had  in  tribulaciouns  that 
they  han  y-suffred,  with-outen  hir 
desert  or  gilt,  /  oghte  muchel  stiren  2695 
yow  to  pacience.  /  Forthermore, 
ye  sholde  enforce  yow  to  have 
pacience,  /  consideringe  that  the 
tribulaciouns  of  this  world  but  litel 
whyle  endure,  and  sone  passed  been 
and  goon.  /  And  the  loye  that  a 
man  seketh  to  have  by  pacience  in 
tribulaciouns  is  perduralile,  after 
that  the  apostle  seith  in  his  epistle  :  / 
"  the  loye  of  god,"  he  seith,  "  is 
perdurable,"  that  is  to  seyn,  ever- 
lastinge.  /  Also  troweth  and  bi-  2700 
leveth  stedefastly,  that  he  nis  nat 
wel  y-norissed  ne  wel  y-taught,  that 
can  nat  have  pacience  or  wol  nat 
receyve  pacience.  /  For  Salomon 
seith :  that  "  the  doctrine  and  the 
wit  of  a  man  is  knovven  by  pa- 
cience." /  And  in  another  place 
he  seith  :  that  "  he  that  is  pacient 
governeth  him  by  greet  prudence."  / 
And  the  same  Sahjmon  seith  :  "  the 
angry  and  wrathful  man  maketh 
noyses,  and  the  pacient  man  atem- 
preth  hem  and  stilleth."  /  He 
seith  also  :  "  it  is  more  worth  to  be 
pacient  than  for  to  be  right  strong;  /  2705 
and  he  that  may  have  the  lordshipe 
of  his  owene  herte  is  more  to 
preyse,  than  he  that  by  his  force  or 
strengthe  taketh  grete  citees."  / 
And  therfore  seith  seint  lame  in 
his  epistle :  that  "  pacience  is  a 
greet  vertu  of  perfeccioun."  '  / 

§  47.  '  Certes,'  quod  Melibee,  '  I 
graunte  yow,  dame  Prudence,  that 
pacience  is  a  greet  vertu  of  perfec- 


2708-2744-] 


B.    THE  TALE  OF  MELIBEUS. 


573 


cioun;  /  but  every  man  may  nat 
have  the  perfecciuun  tliat  yeseken;  / 
ne  I  nam  nat  uf  the  nombre  of  right 

2710  partite  men,  /  for  myn  herte  may 
never  been  in  pees  un-to  the  tyme 
it  be  vengecl.  /  Ami  al-be-it  so 
that  it  was  greet  peril  to  myne  ene- 
mys,  to  do  me  a  vileinye  in  takinge 
vengeance  up-on  me,  /  yet  token 
they  noon  hede  of  the  peril,  but  ful- 
filleden  hir  wikked  wil  and  hir  cor- 
age.  /  And  therfore,  me  thinketh 
men  oghten  nat  repreve  me,  though 
I  puttc  me  in  a  litel  peril  for  to  venge 
me,  /  and  though  I  do  a  greet  ex- 
cesse,  that  is  to  seyn,  that  I  venge 

2715   oon  outrage  by  another.'  / 

§  48.  '  A  ! '  quod  dame  Prudence, 
'  ye  seyn  your  wil  and  as  yow  lyk- 
eth;  /  but  in  no  caas  of  the  world 
a  man  sholde  nat  doon  outrage  ne 
excesse  for  to  vengen  him.  /  For 
Cassidore  seith  :  that  "  as  yvel  doth 
he  that  vengeth  him  by  outrage,  as 
he  that  doth  the  outrage."  /  And 
therfore  ye  shul  venge  yow  after  the 
ordre  of  right,  that  is  to  seyn  by  the 
lawe,  and  noght  by  excesse  ne  by 
outrage.  /  And  also,  if  ye  vvol 
venge  yow  of  the  outrage  of  your 
adversaries    in    other    maner    than 

2720  right  comandeth,  ye  sinnen;  /  and 
therfore  seith  Senek  :  that  "  a  man 
shal  never  vengen  shrewednesse  by 
shrewednesse."  /  And  if  ye  seye, 
that  right  axeth  a  man  to  defenden 
violence  by  violence,  and  fighting 
by  fighting,  /  certes  ye  seye  sooth, 
whan  the  defense  is  doon  anon  with- 
outen  intervalle  or  with-outen  tary- 
ing  or  delay,  /  for  to  defenden  him 
and  nat  for  to  vengen  him.  /  And 
it  l)ihoveth  that  a  man  putte  swich 

2725  attcmperance  in  his  defence,  /  that 
men  have  no  cause  ne  matere  to 
repreven  him  that  defendeth  him 
of  excesse  and  outrage;  for  elles 
were  it  agayn  resoun.  /  Pardee, 
ye  knowen  wel,  that  ye  maken  no 
defence  as  now  for  to  defende  yow, 
but  for  to  venge  yow;  /  and  so 
sevveth  it  that  ye  han  no  wil  to  do 
your  dede  attemprcly.  /     And  ther- 


fore, me  thinketh  that  pacience  is 
good.  For  Salomon  seith :  that 
"  he  that  is  nat  pacient  shal  have 
greet  harm."'  / 

§  49.  'Certes,'  (juod  Mcliiice,  'I 
graunte  yow,  that  whan  a  man  is 
impacient  and  wroth,  of  that  that 
toucheth  him  noght  and  that  aper- 
teneth  nat  un-to  him,  though  it 
harme  him,  it  is  no  wonder.  /  For  2730 
the  lawe  seith  :  that  "  he  is  coupa- 
ble  that  entremetteth  or  medleth 
with  swich  thyng  as  apcrteneth  nat 
un-to  him."  /  And  Salomon  seith  : 
that  "  he  that  entremetteth  him  of 
the  noyse  or  stryf  of  another  man, 
is  lyk  to  him  that  taketh  an  hound 
by  the  eres."  /  F"or  right  as  he 
that  taketh  a  straunge  hound  by 
the  eres  is  outherwhyle  biten  with 
the  hound,  /  right  in  the  same  wyse 
is  it  resoun  that  he  have  harm,  that 
by  his  inpacience  medleth  him  of 
the  noyse  of  another  man,  wher-as 
it  aperteneth  nat  un-to  him.  /  But 
ye  knowen  wel  that  this  dede,  that 
is  to  seyn,  my  grief  and  my  disese, 
toucheth  me  right  ny.  /  And  ther-  2735 
fore,  though  I  be  wroth  and  inpa- 
cient,  it  is  no  merveille.  /  And 
savinge  your  grace,  I  can  nat  seen 
that  it  mighte  greetly  harme  me 
though  I  toke  vengeaunce;  /  for  I 
am  richer  and  more  mighty  than 
myne  enemys  been.  /  And  wel 
knowen  ye,  that  by  moneye  and  by 
havinge  grete  possessions  been  all 
the  thingesof  this  world  governed.  / 
And  Salomon  seith :  that "  alle  thinges 
obeyen  to  moneye."  '  /  2740 

§  50.  Whan  Prudence  haddeherde 
hir  housbonde  avanten  him  of  his 
richesse  and  of  his  moneye,  dis- 
preisinge  the  power  of  hise  adversa- 
ries, she  spak,  and  seyde  in  this 
wyse:  /  'certes,  dere  sir,  I  graunte 
yow  that  ye  been  rich  ami  mighty,  / 
and  that  the  richesses  been  goode  to 
hem  that  han  wel  y-geten  hem  and 
wel  conne  usen  hem.  /  For  right 
as  the  body  of  a  man  may  nat  liven 
with-oute  the  soule,  namore  may  it 
live  with-outen  temporel  goodes.  / 


574 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2745-2780. 


And  by  richesses  may  a  man  gete 

2745  him  grete  freendes.  /  And  ther- 
fore  seith  Pamphilles :  "  if  a  net- 
herdes  doghter,"  seith  he, "  be  riche, 
she  may  chesen  of  a  thousand  men 
which  she  wol  take  to  hir  hous- 
bonde ;  /  for,  of  a  thousand  men,  oon 
wol  nat  forsaken  hir  ne  refusen  hir."/ 
And  this  Pamphilles  seith  also  :  "  if 
thou  be  right  happy,  that  is  to  seyn, 
if  thou  be  right  riche,  thou  shalt  find 
a  greet  nombre  of  felawes  and 
freendes.  /  And  if  thy  fortune 
change  that  thou  wexe  povre,  fare- 
wel  freendshipe  and  felaweshipe;  / 
for  thou  shalt  be  allone  with-outen 
any  companye,  but-if  it  be  the  com- 

2750  panye  of  povre  folk."  /  And  yet 
seith  this  Pamphilles  moreover : 
that  "they  that  been  thralle  and 
bonde  of  linage  shuUen  been  maad 
worthy  and  noble  by  the  rich- 
esses."  /  And  right  so  as  by  rich- 
esses  ther  comen  manye  goodes, 
right  so  by  poverte  come  ther  manye 
harmes  and  yveles.  /  For  greet 
poverte  constreyneth  a  man  to  do 
manye  yveles.  /  And  therfore  clep- 
eth  Cassidore  poverte  "  the  moder 
of  ruine,"  /  that  is  to  seyn,  the 
moder  of  overthrowinge  or  fallinge 

2755  doun.  /  And  therfore  seith  Piers 
Alfonce  :  "  oon  of  the  gretteste  ad- 
versitees  of  this  world  is  /  whart  a 
free  man,  by  kinde  or  by  burthe,  is 
constreyned  by  poverte  to  eten  the 
almesse  of  his  enemy."  /  And  the 
same  seith  Innocent  in  oon  of  hise 
bokes;  he  seith:  that  "  sorweful 
and  mishappy  is  the  condicioun  of 
a  povre  begger;  /  for  if  he  axe  nat 
his  mete,  he  dyeth  for  hunger;  / 
and  if  he  axe,  he  dyeth  for  shame; 
and  algates  necessitee  constreyneth 

2760  him  to  axe."  /  And  therfore  seith 
Salomon :  that  "  bet  it  is  to  dye 
than  for  to  have  swich  poverte."  / 
And  as  the  same  .Salomon  seith : 
"  liettre  it  is  to  dye  of  bitter  deeth 
than  for  to  liven  in  swich  wyse."  / 
By  thise  resons  that  I  have  seid  un- 
to yow,  and  by  manye  othere  re- 
sons  that  I  coude  seye,  /  I  graunte 


yow  that  richesses  lieen  goode  to  hem 
that  geten  hem  wel,  and  to  hem  that 
wel  usen  tho  richesses.  /  And 
therfore  wol  I  shewe  yow  how  ye 
shul  have  yow,  and  how  ye  shul  here 
yow  in  gaderinge  of  richesses,  and 
in  what  manere  ye  shul  usen  hem./   2765 

§  51.  First,  ye  shul  geten  hem 
with-outen  greet  desyr,  by  good 
leyser  sokingly,  and  nat  over  has- 
tily. /  Ff)r  a  man  that  is  to  desyr- 
inge  to  gete  richesses  abaundcmeth 
him  first  to  thefte  and  to  alle  other 
yveles.  /  And  therfore  seith  .Salo- 
mon :  "  he  that  hasteth  him  to  bisily 
to  wexe  riche  shal  be  noon  inno- 
cent." /  He  seith  also  :  that  "  the 
richesse  that  hastily  cometh  to  a 
man,  sone  and  lightly  gooth  and 
passeth  fro  a  man ;  /  but  that  rich- 
esse that  cometh  litel  and  litel  wex- 
eth  alwey  and  multiplyeth."  /  And  2770 
sir,  ye  shul  geten  richesses  by  your 
wit  and  by  your  travaille  un-to  your 
profit;  /  and  that  with-outen  wrong 
or  harm-doinge  to  any  other  per- 
sone.  /  For  the  lawe  seith :  that 
"  ther  maketh  no  man  himselven 
riche,  if  he  do  harm  to  another 
wight;  "  /  this  is  to  seyii,  that 
nature  defendeth  and  forbedeth  by 
right,  that  no  man  make  him-self 
riche  un-to  the  harm  of  another  per- 
sone.  /  And  Tullius  seith :  that 
"no  sorwe  ne  no  drede  of  deeth, 
ne  no-thing  that  may  falle  un-to  a 
man  /  is  so  muchel  agayns  tiature,  2775 
as  a  man  to  encressen  his  owene 
profit  to  the  harm  of  another  man.  / 
And  though  the  grete  men  and  the 
mighty  men  geten  richesses  more 
lightly  than  thou,  /  yet  shaltou  nat 
been  ydel  ne  slow  to  do  thy  profit; 
for  thou  shalt  in  alle  wyse  flee  ydel- 
nesse."  /  For  Salomon  seith  :  that 
"ydelnesse  techeth  a  man  to  do 
manye  yveles."  /  And  the  same 
Salomon  seith  :  that  "  he  that  tra- 
vailleth  and  bisieth  him  to  tilien  liis 
land,  shal  eten  breed  ;  /  but  he  that  27S0 
is  ydel  and  casteth  him  to  no  bisi- 
ncsse  ne  occupacioun,  shal  falle 
in-to    poverte,    and    dye    for    hun- 


278I-28I9.] 


B.    THE  TALE  OF   MELIBEUS. 


575 


ger."  /  And  lie  tliat  is  yflel  and 
slow  can  never  linde  covenablc  tyme 
for  to  doon  his  jirolit.  /  For  tlier 
is  a  versifiour  scith  :  that  "  the  ydel 
man  excuseth  hym  in  winter,  by 
cause  of  the  grcte  cold;  and  in 
somer,  by  cnchesoun  of  the  hete."  / 
For  thise  causes  seith  Caton  :  "  wak- 
eth  and  enclyneth  nat  yow  over 
muchel  for  to  slepe ;  for  over 
muchel  reste  norisseth  and  causeth 
nianye  vices."  /  And  therfore  seith 
seint  lerome :  "doth  somme  gode 
dedes,  that  the  devel  which  is  our 
enemy    ne    finde    yow  nat    unoccu- 

2785  pied."  /  For  the  devel  ne  taketh 
nat  lightly  un-to  his  werkinge  svviche 
as  he  tindeth  occupied  in  gode 
werkes."  / 

§  52.  'I'hanne  thus,  in  getinge 
richesses,  ye  mosten  flee  ydel- 
nesse.  /  And  afterward,  ye  shul 
use  the  richesses,  whiche  ye  have 
geten  by  your  wit  and  by  your 
travaille,  /  in  svvich  a  manere,  that 
men  holde  nat  yow  to  scars,  ne  to 
sparinge,  ne  to  fool-large,  that  is  to 
seyn,  over-large  a  spender.  /  For 
right  as  men  blamen  an  avaricious 
man  by-cause  of  his   scarsetee   and 

2790  chincherye,  /  in  the  same  wyse  is 
he  to  blame  that  spendeth  over 
largely.  /  And  ther-fore  seith 
Caton :  "  use,"  he  seith,  "  thy 
richesses  that  thou  hast  geten  /  in 
swich  a  manere,  that  men  have  no 
matere  ne  cause  to  calle  thee 
neither  wrecche  ne  chinche;  /  for 
it  is  a  greet  shame  to  a  man  to  have 
a  povere  herte  and  a  riche  purs."  / 
He  seith  also :  "  the  goodes  that 
thou  hast  y-geten,  use  hem  by 
mesure,"    that   is   to   seyn,  spende 

2795  hem  mesurably;  /for  they  that 
folily  wasten  and  despenden  the 
goodes  that  they  han,  /  whan  they 
han  namore  propre  of  hir  owene, 
they  shapen  hem  to  take  the  gooiles 
of  another  man.  /  I  seye  thanne, 
that  ye  shul  (leen  avarice;  /  usinge 
your  richesses  in  swich  manere, 
that  men  seye  nat  that  your  richesses 
been   y-buried,  /  but   that  ye   have 


hem  in  your  might  and  in  your 
weeldinge.  /  For  a  wys  man  re-  2S00 
prcveth  the  av.iricious  man,  and 
seith  thus,  in  two  vers:  /  "  wherto 
and  why  burieth  a  man  hise  goodes 
by  his  grete  avarice,  and  knoweth 
wel  that  nedes  moste  he  dye;  /  for 
deeth  is  the  ende  of  every  man  as  in 
this  present  lyf."  /  And  for  what 
cause  or  enchesoun  loyneth  he  him 
or  knitteth  he  him  so  faste  un-to 
hise  goodes,  /  that  alle  his  wittes 
mowen  nat  disseveren  him  or  de- 
parten  him  from  hise  goodes;  /  and  2805 
knoweth  wel,  or  oghte  knowe,  that 
whan  he  is  deed,  he  shal  no-thing 
here  with  him  out  of  this  world.  / 
And  ther-fore  seith  seint  Augustin : 
that  "  the  avaricious  man  is  likned 
un-to  helle;/that  the  more  it 
swelweth,  the  more  desyr  it  hath 
to  swelwe  and  devoure."  /  And 
as  wel  as  ye  wolde  eschewe  to 
be  called  an  avaricious  man  or 
chinche,  /  as  wel  sholde  ye  kepe 
yow  and  governe  yow  in  swich 
a  wyse  that  men  calle  yow  nat 
fool-large.  /  Therfore  scith  Tul-  2810 
1ms :  "  the  goodes,"  he  seith, 
"  of  thyn  hous  ne  sholde  nat  been 
hid,  ne  kept  so  cloos  but  that  they 
mighte  been  opened  by  pitee  and 
debonairetee;  "  /  that  is  to  seyn,  to 
yeven  part  to  hem  that  han  greet 
nede;/"ne  thy  goodes  shuUen 
nat  been  so  opene,  to  been  every 
mannes  goodes."  /  Afterward,  in 
getinge  of  your  richesses  and  in 
usinge  hem,  ye  shul  alwey  have 
three  thinges  in  your  herte  ;  /  that 
is  to  seyn,  our  lord  god,  conscience, 
and  good  name./  P'irst,  ye  shul  2815 
have  god  in  your  herte;  /and  for 
no  richesse  ye  shullen  do  no-thing, 
which  may  in  any  manere  displese 
god,  that  is  your  creatour  and 
maker.  /  For  after  the  word  of 
Salomon  :  "  it  is  bettre  to  have  a 
litel  good  with  the  love  of  god,  / 
than  to  have  muchel  good  and 
tresour,  and  lese  the  love  of  his  lord 
god."  /  And  the  prophete  seith  : 
that  "  bettre  it   is   to   been   a   good 


576 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2820-2855, 


man  and  have  litel  good  and  tre- 

2820  sour,  /  than  to  been  holden  a 
shrewe  and  have  grete  richesse."  / 
And  yet  seye  I  ferthermore,  that  ye 
sholde  alwey  doon  your  bisinesse  to 
gete  yow  richesses,  /  so  that  ye  gete 
hem  with  good  conscience.  /  And 
thapostle  seith :  that  "ther  nis 
thing  in  this  world,  of  which  we 
sholden  have  so  greet  loye  as  whan 
our  conscience  bereth  us  good 
witnesse."  /  And  the  wyse  man 
seith:  "  the  substance  of  a  man  is 
ful    good,    whan    sinne    is    nat    in 

2825  mannes  conscience."  /  Afterward, 
in  getinge  of  your  richesses,  and  in 
usinge  of  hem,  /  yow  moste  have 
greet  bisinesse  and  greet  dili- 
gence, that  your  goode  name  be 
alwey  kept  and  conserved.  /  For 
Salomon  seith:  that  "  bettre  it  is 
and  more  it  availeth  a  man  to  have 
a  good  name,  than  for  to  have  grete 
richesses."  /  And  therfore  he 
seith  in  another  place  :  "  do  greet 
diligence,"  seith  Salomon,  "  in  kep- 
ing  of  thy  freend  and  of  thy  gode 
name;  /  for  it  shal  lenger  abide 
with  thee   than   any   tresour,  be  it 

2S30  never  so  precious."  /  And  certes 
he  sholde  nat  be  called  a  gentil 
man,  that  after  god  and  good  con- 
science, alle  thinges  left,  ne  dooth 
h's  diligence  and  bisinesse  to  kepen 
his  good  name.  /  And  Cassidore 
seith :  that  "  it  is  signe  of  a  gentil 
herte,  whan  a  man  loveth  and 
desyreth  to  han  a  good  name."  / 
And  therfore  seith  seint  Augustin  : 
that  "  ther  been  two  thinges  that 
arn  necessarie  and  nedefulle,  /  and 
that  is  good  conscience  and  good 
loos;  /that  is  to  seyn,  good  con- 
science to  thyn  owene  persone  in- 
ward,   and    good     loos     for      thy 

2S35  neighebore  outward."  /  And  he 
that  trusteth  him  so  muchel  in  his 
gode  conscience,  /  that  he  dis- 
pleseth  and  setteth  at  noght  his 
gode  name  or  loos,  and  rekketh 
noght  though  he  kepe  nat  his  gode 
name,  nis  l)ut  a  cruel  cherl.  / 

§  53.  Sire,   now   have   I    shewed 


yow  how  ye  shul  do  in  getinge 
richesses,  and  how  ye  shullen  usen 
hem;  /  and  I  se  wel,  that  for  the 
trust  that  ye  han  in  youre  richesses, 
ye  wole  moeve  werre  and  bataille.  / 
I  conseille  yow,  that  ye  biginne  no 
werre  in  trust  of  your  richesses; 
for  they  ne  suffysen  noght  werres  to 
mayntene.  /  And  therfore  seith  a  2840 
philosophre  :  "  that  man  that  desy- 
reth and  wole  algates  han  werre, 
shal  never  have  suffisaunce;  /  for 
the  richer  that  he  is,  the  gretter 
despenses  moste  he  make,  if  he 
wole  have  worship  and  victorie."  / 
And  Salomon  seith :  that  "  the 
gretter  richesses  that  a  man  hath, 
the  mo  despendours  he  hath."  / 
And  dere  sire,  al-be-it  so  that  for 
your  richesses  ye  mowe  have  muchel 
folk,  /  yet  bihoveth  it  nat,  ne  it  is 
nat  good,  to  biginne  werre,  where- 
as ye  mowe  in  other  manere  have 
pees,  un-to  your  worship  and 
profit.  /  For  the  victories  of  bat-  2845 
ailles  that  been  in  this  world,  lyen 
nat  in  greet  nombre  or  multitude  of 
the  peple  ne  in  the  vertu  of  man;  / 
but  it  lyth  in  the  wil  and  in  the 
hand  of  our  lord  god  almighty.  / 
And  therfore  ludas  Machabeus, 
which  was  goddes  knight,  /  whan 
he  sholde  fighte  agayn  his  adver- 
sarie  that  hadde  a  greet  nombre, 
and  a  gretter  multitude  of  folk  and 
strenger  than  was  this  peple  of 
Machabee,  /  yet  he  reconforted  his 
litel  companye,  and  seyde  right  in 
this  wyse  :  /  "  als  lightly,"  quod  he,  2850 
"  may  our  lord  god  almighty  yeve 
victorie  to  a  fevve  folk  as  to  many 
folk;  /  for  the  victorie  of  bataile 
cometh  nat  by  the  grete  nombre  of 
peple,  /  but  it  cometh  from  our  lord 
god  of  hevene."  /  And  dere  sir, 
for  as  muchel  as  there  is  no  man 
certein,  if  he  be  worthy  that  god 
yeve  him  victorie,  [namore  than  he 
is  certein  whether  he  be  worthy  of 
the  love  of  god]  or  naught,  after 
that  Salomon  seith,  /  therfore  every 
man  shcjlde  greetly  drede  werres  to 
biginne.  /     And   by-cause    that    in  2S55 


2856-2895.] 


B.     THE  TALE  OF   MELIBEUS. 


577 


batailles  fallen  manye  perils,  /  and 
happeth  outher-wliile,  that  as  sone 
is  the  grote  man  sloyn  as  the  litel 
man;  /  and,  as  it  is  written  in  the 
seconde  hook  of  Kinyes,  "  the  dedes 
of  batailles  been  aventurouse  and 
nothing  certeyne;  /  for  as  lightly  is 
oon  hurt  with  aspere  as  another."  / 
And  for  ther  is  gret  peril  in  werre, 
therfore  sholde  a  man  flee  and 
eschewe  werre,  in  as  muchel  as  a 

2S60  man  may  goodly.  /  For  Salomon 
scith :  "  he  that  loveth  peril  shal 
falle  in  peril."  '  / 

§  54.  After  that  Dame  Prudence 
hadde  spoken  in  this  manerc,  Meli- 
bee  answerde  and  seyde,  /  '  I  see 
wel,  dame  Prudence,  that  by  your 
faire  wordes  and  by  your  resons 
that  ye  han  shewed  me,  that  the 
werre  lyketh  yow  no-thing;  /  but 
I  have  nat  yet  herd  your  conseil, 
how  1  shal  do  in  this  nede.'  / 

§  55.  'Certes,'  quod  she,  'I  con- 
seille  yow  that  ye  accorde  with 
youre  adversaries,  and  that  ye  haue 

2S65  pees  with  hem.  /  For  seint  lame 
seith  in  hise  epistles :  that  "  by  con- 
cord and  pees  the  smale  richesses 
wexen  grete,  /  and  by  debaat  and 
discord  the  grete  richesses  fallen 
doun."  /  And  ye  knowen  wel  that 
oon  of  the  gretteste  and  most 
sovereyn  thing,  that  is  in  this  world, 
is  unitee  and  pees.  /  And  ther- 
fore seyde  oure  lord  lesu  Crist  to 
hise  apostles  in  this  wyse :  /"wel 
happy  and  Vjlessed  been  they  that 
loven  and  purchacen  pees;    for  they 

2S70  been  called  children  of  god." '  / 
'  A  ! '  quod  Melibee,  '  now  se  I  wel 
that  ye  loven  nat  myn  honour  ne 
my  worshipe.  /  Ye  knowen  wel 
that  myne  adversaries  han  bigonnen 
this  debaat  and  brige  by  hir  out- 
rage; /  and  ye  see  wel  that  they  ne 
requeren  ne  preyen  me  nat  of  pees, 
ne  they  asken  nat  to  be  reconsiled.  / 
Wol  ye  thanne  that  I  go  and  meke 
me  and  obeye  me  to  hem,  and  crye 
hem    mercy  ?  /      For     sothe,    that 

2S75  were  nat  my  worship.  /  For  right 
as  men  seyn,  that  "  over-greet  hom- 


linesse  engendreth  dispreysinge," 
so  fareth  it  by  to  greet  humylitee 
or  mckenesse.'  / 

§  56.  Thanne  bigan  dame  Pru- 
dence to  niaken  seml)lant  of 
wratthe,  and  seyde,  /  'certes,  sir, 
sauf  your  grace,  I  love  your  honour 
and  your  profit  as  I  do  myn  owene, 
and  ever  have  doon;  /  ne  ye  ne 
noon  other  syen  never  the  con- 
traric.  /  And  yit,  if  I  hadde  seyd 
that  ye  sholde  han  purchaccd  the 
pees  and  the  reconsiliacioun,  I  ne 
hadde  nat  muchel  mistaken  me,  ne 
seyd  amis.  /  tor  the  wyse  man  2S80 
seith  :  "  the  dissensioun  biginneth 
by  another  man,  and  the  reconsil- 
ing  bi-ginneth  by  thy-self."  /  And 
the  prophete  seith  :  "  flee  shrewed- 
nesse  and  do  goodnesse;  /  seke 
pees  and  folvve  it,  as  muchel  as  in 
thee  is."  /  Yet  seye  I  nat  that  ye 
shul  rather  pursue  to  your  adver- 
saries for  pees  than  they  shuln  to 
yow;  /  for  I  knowe  wel  that  ye 
been  so  hard-herted,  that  ye  wol  do 
no-thing  for  me.  /  And  .Salomon  2S85 
seith  :  "  he  that  hath  over-hard  an 
herte,  atte  laste  he  shal  mishappe 
and  mistyde." '  / 

§  57-  Whanne  Melibee  hadde 
herd  dame  Prudence  maken  sem- 
blant  of  wratthe,  he  seyde  in  this 
wyse,  /  '  dame,  I  prey  yow  that  ye 
be  nat  displesed  of  thinges  that  I 
seye;  /  for  ye  knowe  wel  that  I  am 
angry  and  wrooth,  and  that  is  no 
wonder ;  /  and  they  that  been  wrothe 
witen  nat  wel  what  they  doon,  ne 
what  they  seyn.  /  Therfore  the  2890 
prophete  seith  :  that  "  troubled  eyen 
han  no  cleer  sighte."  /  But  seyeth 
and  conseileth  me  as  yow  lyketh; 
for  1  am  redy  to  do  right  as  ye  wol 
desyre;  /  and  if  ye  repreve  me  of 
my  folye,  I  am  the  more  holden  to 
love  yow  and  to  preyse  yow.  / 
For  Salomon  seith:  that  "he  that 
repreveth  him  that  doth  folye,  / 
he  shal  finde  gretter  grace  than 
he  that  deceyveth  him  by  swete 
wordes."  '  /  2895 

§  58.  'I'hanne   seide    dame    Pru- 


578 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[2896-2935. 


dence,  'I  make  no  seniblant  of 
wratthe  ne  anger  but  for  your  grete 
profit.  /  For  Salomon  seith  :  "  he 
is  more  worth,  that  repreveth  or 
chydeth  a  fool  for  his  folye,  shew- 
inge  him  seml)lant  of  wratthe,  / 
than  he  that  supporteth  him  and 
preyseth  him  in  his  misdoinge,  and 
laugheth  at  his  folye."  /  And  this 
same  Salomon  seith  afterward  :  that 
"  Ijy  the  sorvveful  visage  of  a  man," 
that  is  to  seyn,  by  the  sory  and  hevy 
countenaunce  of  a  man,  /  "  the  fool 

2900  correcteth  and  amendeth  himself."  '/ 
§  59.  Thanne  seyde  Melibee,  '  I 
shal  nat  conne  answere  to  so  manye 
faire  resouns  as  ye  putten  to  me 
and  shewen.  /  Seyeth  shortly  your 
wil  and  your  conseil,  and  I  am  al 
ready  to  fultille  and  parfourne  it.'  / 
§  60.  Thanne  dame  Prudence  dis- 
covered al  hir  wil  to  him,  and 
seyde,  /  '  I  conseille  yow,'  quod 
she,  '  aboven  alle  thinges,  that  ye 
make  pees  bitwene  god  and  yow;  / 
and  beth  reconsiled  un-to  him  and 

2905  to  his  grace.  /  For  as  I  have  seyd 
yow  heer-biforn,  god  hath  suffred 
yow  to  have  this  tribulacioun  and 
disese  for  your  sinnes.  /  And  if  ye 
do  as  1  sey  yow,  god  wol  sende  your 
adversaries  un-to  yow,  /  and  maken 
hem  fallen  at  your  feet,  redy  to  do 
your  wil  and  your  comandenients.  / 
For  Salomon  seith :  "  whan  the 
condicioun  of  man  is  plesaunt  and 
likinge  to  god,  /  he  chaungeth  the 
hertes  of  the  mannes  adversaries, 
and   constreyneth    hem    to   biseken 

2910  him  of  pees  and  of  grace."  /  And 
I  prey  yow,  lat  me  speke  with  your 
adversaries  in  privee  place;  /  for 
they  shul  nat  knowe  that  it  be  of 
your  wil  or  your  assent.  /  And 
thanne,  whan  I  knowe  hir  wil  and 
hir  entente,  I  may  conseille  yow  the 
more  seurly.'  / 

§61.  'Dame,'  quod  Melibee, 
'  dooth  your  wil  and  your  lykinge,  / 
for  I  putte  me  hoolly  in  your  dis- 

2915  posicioun  and  ordinaunce.'  / 

§  62.  Thanne  Dame  Prudence, 
whan  she  saugh  the  gode  wil  of  her 


housbonde,  delibered  and  took  avys 
in  hir-self,  /  thinkinge  how  she 
mighte  bringe  this  nede  un-to  a 
good  conclusioun  and  to  a  good 
ende.  /  And  whan  she  saugh  hir 
tyme,  she  sente  for  thise  adversaries 
to  come  un-to  hir  in-to  a  privee 
place,  /  and  shewed  wysly  un-to 
hem  the  grete  goodes  that  comen 
of  pees,  /  and  the  grete  harmes  and 
perils  that  been  in  werre;  /  and  2920 
seyde  to  hem  in  a  goodly  manere, 
how  that  hem  oughte  have  greet 
repentaunce  /  of  the  iniurie  and 
wrong  that  they  hadden  doon  to 
Melibee  hir  lord,  and  to  hir,  and  to 
hir  doghter.  / 

§  63.  And  whan  they  herden  the 
goodliche  wordes  of  dame  Pru- 
dence, /  they  weren  so  surprised  and 
ravisshed,  and  hadden  so  greet  loye 
of  hir,  that  wonder  was  to  telle.  / 
'  A  !  lady  ! '  quod  they,  '  ye  han 
shewed  un-to  us  *'  the  blessinge  of 
swetnesse,"  after  the  sawe  of  David 
the  prophete;  /  for  the  reconsilinge  2925 
which  we  been  nat  worthy  to  have  in 
no  manere,  /  but  we  oghte  requeren 
it  with  greet  contricioun  and  humili- 
tee,  /  ye  of  your  grete  goodnesse 
have  presented  unto  us.  /  Now 
see  we  wel  that  the  science  and  the 
conninge  of  Salomon  is  ful  trewe;/ 
for  he  seith:  that  "  swete  wordes 
multiplyen  and  encresen  freendeSj 
and  maken  shrewes  to  be  debonaire 
and  meke."  /  2930 

§64.  '  Certes,'  quod  they,  'we 
putten  our  dede  and  al  our  matere 
and  cause  al  hoolly  in  your  goode 
wil;  /  and  been  redy  to  obeye  to 
the  speche  and  comandement  of 
my  lord  Melibee.  /  And  therfore, 
dere  and  benigne  lady,  we  preyen 
yow  and  biseke  yow  as  mekely  as 
we  conne  and  mowen,  /  that  it  lyke 
un-to  your  grete  goodnesse  to  ful- 
hllen  in  dede  your  goodliche 
wordes;  /  for  we  consideren  and 
knowlichen  that  we  han  offended 
and  greved  my  lord  Melibee  out 
of  mesure;/so  ferforth,  that  we  2935 
be    nat   of  power   to   maken   hise 


2936-2973-] 


R    THE  TALE   OF   MELIBEUS. 


579 


amencles.  /  And  therfore  we  ol)lige 
and  hinden  us  and  our  freendes  to 
doon  al  his  wil  and  liise  comande- 
mcnts.  /  But  pcraventure  he  hath 
swich  hevinesse  and  swich  wratthe 
to  US-ward,  by-cause  of  our  offence,  / 
that  he  wole  enioyne  us  swich  a 
peyne  as  we  mowe  nat  here  ne  sus- 
tene.  /  And  therfore,  noble  lady, 
we     biseke     to     your     womnianly 

2940  pitee,  /  to  taken  swich  avysement 
in  this  nede,  that  we,  ne  our 
freendes,  be  nat  desherited  ne 
destroyed  thurgh  our  folye.'  / 

§  65.  '  Certes,'  quod  Prudence, 
'  it  is  an  hard  thing  and  right  peril- 
ous, /  that  a  man  putte  him  al 
outrely  in  the  arbitracioun  and 
luggement,  and  in  the  miglit  and 
power  of  hise  enemys.  /  For  Salo- 
mon seith  :  "  leveth  me,  and  yeveth 
credence  to  that  I  shal  seyn;  I 
seye,"  quod  he,  "  ye  peple,  folk, 
and  governours  of  holy  chirche,  / 
to  thy    sone,    to    thy  wyf,    to  thy 

2945  freend,  ne  to  thy  brother  /  ne  yeve 
thou  never  might  ne  maistrie  of  thy 
body,  whyl  thou  livest."  /  Now 
sithen  he  defendeth,  that  man  shal 
nat  yeven  to  his  brother  ne  to  his 
freend  the  might  of  his  body,  /  by 
a  strenger  resoun  he  defendeth  and 
forbedeth  a  man  to  yeven  him-self 
to  his  enemy.  /  And  natbelees  I 
conseille  you,  that  ye  mistruste  nat 
my  lord.  /  For  I  woot  wel  and 
knowe  verraily,  that  he  is  debonaire 

2950  and  meke,  large,  curteys,  /  and 
nothing  desyrous  ne  coveitous  of 
good  ne  richesse.  /  For  ther  nis 
no-thing  in  this  world  that  he 
desyreth,  save  only  worship  and 
honour.  /  Forther-more  I  knowe 
wel,  and  am  right  seur,  that  he  shal 
no-thing  doon  in  this  nede  with- 
outen  my  conseil.  /  And  I  shal  so 
werken  in  this  cause,  that,  by  grace 
of  our  lord  god,  ye  shul  been  recon- 
siled  un-to  us.'  / 

§  66.  Thanne  seyden  they  with  o 
vois,  '  worshipful  lady,  we  putten  us 
and  our  goodes  al   fully  in  your  wil 

2955  and  disposicioun;  /  and  been  redy 


to  comen,  what  day  that  it  lyke 
un-to  your  noblesse  to  limite  us  or 
assigne  us,  /  for  to  maken  our  obli- 
gacioun  antl  bond  as  strong  as  it 
lyketh  un-to  your  goodnesse;  / 
that  we  mowe  fultille  the  wille  of 
yow  and  of  my  lord  Melibee.'  / 

§  67.  Whan  dame  Prudence 
hadde  herd  the  answeres  of  thise 
men,  she  bad  hem  goon  agayn 
prively;  /  and  she  retourned  to  hir 
lord  Melibee,  and  tolde  him  how  slie 
fond  hise  adversaries  ful  repentant,/  2960 
knowlechinge  ful  lowely  hir  sinnes 
and  trespas,  and  how  they  were 
redy  to  suffren  al  peyne,  /  requir- 
inge  and  preyinge  him  of  mercy  and 
pitee.  / 

§  68.  Thanne  seyde  Melibee,  '  he 
is  wel  worthy  to  have  pardoun  and 
foryifnesse  of  his  sinne,  that  ex- 
cuseth  nat  his  sinne,  /  but  know- 
lecheth  it  anrl  repenteth  him,  axinge 
indulgence.  /  For  Senek  seith  : 
"  ther  is  the  remissioun  and  foryif- 
nesse, where-as  confessioun  is;"  /  2965 
for  confession  is  neighebore  to  inno- 
cence. /  And  he  seith  in  another 
place  :  "  he  that  hath  shame  for  his 
sinne  and  knowlecheth  it,  is  worthy 
remissioun."  And  therfore  I  as- 
sente  and  conferme  me  to  have 
pees;  /  but  it  is  good  that  we  do 
it  nat  with-outen  the  assent  and  wil 
of  our  freendes.'  / 

§  69.  Thanne  was  Prudence  right 
glad  and  loyeful,  and  seyde,  / 
'Certes,  sir,'  quod  she,  'ye  han  wel 
and  goodly  answered.  /  For  right  2970 
as  by  the  conseil,  assent,  and  help 
of  your  freendes,  ye  han  been  stired 
to  venge  yow  and  maken  werre,  / 
right  so  with-outen  hir  conseil  shul 
ye  nat  accorden  yow,  ne  have  pees 
with  your  adversaries.  /  For  the 
lawe  seith  :  "  ther  nis  no-thing  so 
good  by  wey  of  kinde,  as  a  thing  to 
been  unbounde  by  him  that  it  was 
y-bounde."  '  / 

§  70.  And  thanne  dame  Pru- 
dence, with-outen  delay  or  taryinge, 
sente  anon  hir  messages  for  hir  kin, 
and  for   hir  olde    freendes  whiche 


58o 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2974-3017. 


that  were  trewe  and  wyse,  /  and 
tolde  hem  by  ordre,  in  the  presence 
of  Melibee,  al  this  matere  as  it  is 

2975  aboven  expressed  and  declared;  / 
and  preyden  hem  that  they  wolde 
yeven  hir  avys  and  conseil,  what 
best  were  to  doon  in  this  nede.  / 
And  whan  Melibees  freendes  hadde 
taken  hir  avys  and  deliberacioun  of 
the  forseide  matere,  /  and  hadden 
examined  it  by  greet  bisinesse  and 
greet  diligence,  /  theyyave  ful  con- 
seil for  to  have  pees  and  reste;  / 
and  that  Melibee  sholde  receyve 
with  good  herte  hise  adversaries  to 

2980  foryifnesse  and  mercy.  / 

§  71.  And  whan  dame  Prudence 
hadde  herd  the  assent  of  hir  lord 
Melibee,  and  the  conseil  of  hise 
freendes,  /  accorde  with  hir  wille 
and  hir  entencioun,  /  she  was  won- 
derly  glad  in  hir  herte,  and  seyde  :  / 
'  ther  is  an  old  proverbe,'  quod  she, 
'  seith  :  that  "  the  goodnesse  that 
thou  mayst  do  this  day,  do  it  ;  / 
and    abyde   nat   ne  delaye  it  nat  til 

2985  to-morwe."  /  And  therfore  I  con- 
seille  that  ye  sende  your  messages, 
swiche  as  been  discrete  and  wyse,  / 
un-to  your  adversaries;  tellinge 
hem,  on  your  l^ihalve,  /  that  if  they 
wole  trete  of  pees  and  of  accord,  / 
that  they  shape  hem,  with-outen 
delay  or  tarying,  to  comen  un-to 
us.'  /      Which      thing    parfourned 

299°  was  in  dede.  /  And  whanne  thise 
trespassours  and  repentinge  folk  of 
hir  folies,  that  is  to  seyn,  the  adver- 
saries of  Melibee,  /  hadden  herd 
what  thise  messagers  seyden  un-to 
hem,  /  they  weren  right  glad  and 
loyeful,  and  answereden  ful  mekely 
and  benignely,  /  yeldinge  graces 
and  thankinges  to  hir  lord  Melibee 
and  to  al  his  companye;  /  and 
shopen  hem,  with-outen  delay,  to 
go  with  the  messagers,  and  obeye  to 
the  comandement  of  hir  lord  Meli- 

2995  bee.  / 

§  72.  And  right  anon  they  token 
hir  wey  to  the  court  of  Melibee,  / 
and  token  with  hem  somme  of  hir 
trewe  freendes,  to  maken  feith  for 


hem  and  for  to  lieen  hir  borwes.  / 
And  whan  they  were  comen  to  the 
presence  of  Meliliee,  he  seyde  hem 
thise  wordes :  /'it  standeth  thus,' 
quod  Melibee,  '  and  sooth  it  is,  that 
ye,  /  causeless,  and  with-outen  skile 
and  resoun,  /  han  doon  grete  iniu-  3000 
ries  and  wronges  to  me  and  to  my 
wyf  Prudence,  and  to  my  doghter 
also.  /  For  ye  han  entred  in-to 
myn  hous  by  violence,  /  and  have 
doon  swich  outrage,  that  alle  men 
knowen  wel  that  ye  have  deserved 
the  deeth;  /  and  therfore  wol  I 
knowe  and  wite  of  yow,  /  whether 
ye  wol  putte  the  punissement  and 
the  chastysinge  and  the  vengeance 
of  this  outrage  in  the  wil  of  me 
and  of  my  wyf  Prudence;  or  ye  wol 
nat?'/  3005 

§  73.  Thanne  thewyseste  of  hem 
three  answerde  for  hem  alle,  and 
seyde :  /  '  sire,'  quod  he,  '  we 
knowen  wel,  that  we  been  un- 
worthy to  comen  un-to  the  court  of 
so  greet  a  lord  and  so  worthy  as  ye 
been.  /  For  we  han  so  greetly  mis- 
taken us,  and  han  offended  and  agilt 
in  swich  a  wyse  agayn  your  heigh 
lordshipe,  /  that  trewely  we  han  de- 
served the  deeth.  /  But  yet,  for 
the  grete  goodnesse  and  debonair- 
etee  that  all  the  world  witnesseth  of 
your  persone,  /  we  submitten  us  to  3010 
the  excellence  and  benignitee  of 
your  gracious  lordshipe,  /  and  been 
redytoobeie  to  alle  your  comande- 
ments;  /  bisekinge  yow,  that  of 
your  merciable  pitee  ye  wol  con- 
sidere  our  grete  repentaunce  and 
lovve  submissioun,  /  and  graunten 
us  foryevenesse  of  our  outrageous 
trespas  and  offence.  /  For  wel  we 
knowe,  that  your  liberal  grace  and 
mercy  strecchen  hem  ferther  in-to 
goodnesse,  than  doon  our  outrage- 
ouse  giltes  and  trespas  in-to  wik- 
kednesse;  /  al-be-it  that  cursedly  3015 
and  dampnably  we  han  agilt  agayn 
your  heigh  lordshipe.'  / 

§  74.  Thanne  Melibee  took  hem 
up  fro  the  ground  ful  benignely,  / 
and  receyved  hir  obligaciouns  and 


3018-3060.] 


B.    THE  TALE   OF   MELIBEUS. 


58' 


hir  bondes  by  hir  othes  up-on  hir 
plegges  and  borwes,  /  and  assigned 
hem  a  certeyn  day  to  retournc  un-to 
his  court,  /  for  to  acccpte  antl  re- 
ceyve  the  senttMice  and  lugement 
that  Mclibee  woldc  coniande  to  be 
doon  on  hem  by  the  causes  afore- 

3020  seyd;  /  whiche  thinges  ordeyned, 
every  man  retourned  to  his  hous.  / 
§  75.  And  whan  that  dame  Pru- 
dence saugh  hir  tyme,  she  freyned 
and  axed  hir  lord  Mehbee,  /  what 
vengeance  he  thoughte  to  taken  of 
hise  adversaries  ?  / 

§  76.  To  which  Melibee  an- 
swerde  and  seyde,  '  certes,'  quod 
he,  '  I  thinke  and  purpose  me 
fully  /  to  desherite  hem  of  al  that 
ever  they  han,  and  for  to  putte  hem 

3025  in  exil  for  ever.'  / 

§  77.  'Certes,'  quod  dame  Pru- 
dence, *  this  were  a  cruel  sentence, 
and  muchel  agayn  resoun.  /  For 
ye  been  riche  y-nough,  and  han  no 
nede  of  other  meiines  good;  /  and 
ye  mighte  lightly  in  this  wyse  gete 
yow  a  coveitous  name,  /  which  is  a 
vicious  thing,  and  oghte  been  es- 
chewed of  every  good  man.  /  For 
after  the  sawe  of  the  word  of  the 
apostle  :  "  coveitise  is  rote  of  alle 

3030  harmes."  /  /Vnd  therfore,  it  were 
bettre  for  yow  to  lese  so  muchel  good 
of  your  ovvene,  than  for  to  taken  of 
hir  good  in  this  manere.  /  For 
bettre  it  is  to  lesen  good  with  wor- 
shipe,  than  it  is  to  winne  good  with 
vileinye  and  shame.  /  And  every 
man  oghte  to  doon  his  diligence 
and  his  bisinesse  to  geten  him  a 
good  name.  /  And  yet  shal  he  nat 
only  bisie  him  in  kepinge  of  his 
good  name,  /  but  he  shal  also  en- 
forcen  him  alwey  to  do  som-thing 
by  which  he  may  renovelle  his  good 

3035  name;  /  for  it  is  writen,  that  "the 
olde  good  loos  or  good  name  of  a 
man  is  sone  goon  and  passed,  whan 
it  is  nat  newed  ne  renovelled."  / 
And  as  touchinge  that  ye  seyn,  ye 
wole  exile  your  adversaries,  /  that 
tliinketh  me  muchel  agayn  resoun 
and  out  of  mesure,  /  considered  the 


power  that  they  han  ycvc  yow  up-on 
hem-self.  /.  And  it  is  writen,  that 
"  he  is  worthy  to  lesen  his  privilege 
that  misuseth  the  might  and  the 
power  that  is  yeven  him."  /  And  3040 
I  sette  cas  ye  mighte  enioyne  hem 
that  peyne  by  right  and  by  lawe,  / 
which  I  trowe  ye  mowe  nat  do,  /  I 
seye,  ye  mighte  nat  putten  it  to  exe- 
cucioun  per-aventure,  /  and  thanne 
were  it  lykly  to  retourne  to  the 
werre  as  it  was  biforn.  /  And  ther- 
fore, if  ye  wole  that  men  do  yow 
obeisance,  ye  moste  demen  more 
curteisly;  /  this  is  to  seyn,  ye  moste  3045 
yeven  more  esy  sentences  and  luge- 
ments.  /  For  it  is  writen,  that  "  he 
that  most  curteisly  comandeth,  to 
him  men  most  obeyen."  /  And 
therfore,  I  prey  yow  that  in  this 
necessitee  and  in  this  nede,  ye 
caste  yow  to  overcome  your  herte.  / 
For  Senek  seith :  that  "  he  that 
overcometh  his  herte,  overcometh 
twyes."  /  And  Tullius  seith  :  "  ther 
is  no-thing  so  comendable  in  a  greet 
lord  /  as  whan  he  is  debonaire  and  3050 
meke,  and  appeseth  him  lightly."  / 
And  I  prey  yow  that  ye  wole  forbere 
now  to  do  vengeance,  /  in  swich  a 
manere,  that  your  goode  name  may 
be  kept  and  conserved;  /  and  that 
men  mowe  have  cause  and  matere 
to  preyse  yow  of  pitee  and  of 
mercy;  /  and  that  ye  have  no  cause 
to  repente  yow  of  thing  that  ye 
doon.  /  For  Senek  seith:  "  he  over-  3055 
Cometh  in  an  yvel  manere,  that  re- 
penteth  him  of  his  victorie."  / 
Wherfore  I  pray  yow,  lat  mercy 
been  in  your  minde  and  in  your 
herte,  /  to  theffect  and  entente  that 
god  almighty  have  mercy  on  yow  in 
his  laste  lugement.  /  For  seint 
lame  seith  in  his  epistle :  "  luge- 
ment withouten  mercy  shal  be  doon 
to  him,  that  hath  no  mercy  of 
another  wight."  '  / 

§  78.    Whanne    Melibee    hadde 
henl  the  grete  skiles  and  resouns  of 
dame  Prudence,  and  hir  wise  infor- 
maciouns  and  techinges,  /  his  herte  3060 
gan  enclyne  to  the  wil  of  his  wyf, 


582 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[3061-3116. 


consideringe  hir  trewe  entente;  / 
and  conformed  him  anon,  and  as- 
sented fully  to  werken  after  liir  con- 
seil;  /  and  thonked  god,  of  whom 
procedeth  al  vertu  and  alle  good- 
nesse,  that  him  sente  a  wyf  of  so 
greet  discrecioun.  /  And  whan  the 
day  cam  that  hise  adversaries  sholde 
apperen  in  his  presence,  /  he  spak 
unto  hem  ful  goodly,  and  seyde  in 
3065  this  wyse  :  /  '  al-be-it  so  that  of  your 
pryde  and  presumpcioun  and  folie, 
and  of  your  necligence  and  uncon- 
ninge,  /  ye  have  misborn  yow  and 
trespassed  un-to  me;  /  yet,  for  as 
much  as  I  see  and  biholde  yourgrete 
humilitee,  /  and  that  ye  been  sory 
and  repentant   of    your   giltes,  /  it 


constreyneth  me  to  doon  yow  grace 
and  mercy.  /  Therfore  I  receyve  3070 
yow  to  my  grace,  /  and  foryeve  yow 
outrely  alle  the  offences,  iniuries, 
and  wronges,  that  ye  have  doon 
agayn  me  and  myne  ;  /  to  this  effect 
and  to  this  ende,  that  god  of  his 
endelees  mercy  /  wole  at  the  tyme 
of  our  dyinge  foryeven  us  our  giltes 
that  we  han  trespassed  to  him  in 
this  wrecched  world.  /  For  doute- 
lees,  if  we  be  sory  and  repentant  of 
the  sinnes  and  giltes  whiche  we  han 
trespassed  in  the  sighte  of  our  lord 
god,  /  he  is  so  free  and  so  merci-  3075 
able,  /  that  he  wole  foryeven  us  our 
giltes,  /  and  bringen  us  to  his  blisse 
that  never  hath  ende.     Amen.'  / 


Here  is  ended  Chancers  Tale  of  Melibee  and  of  Dame  Prudence. 


THE  MONK'S  PROLOGUE. 


The    mery    wordes    of  the    Host   to    the 
Monk. 

Whan  ended  was  my  tale  of  Melibee, 
And  of  Prudence  and  hir  benignitee,  3080 
Our  hoste  seyde,  '  as  I  am  faithful  man. 
And  by  the  precious  corpus  Madrian, 
I  hadde  lever  than  a  barel  ale 
That  goode  lief  my  wyf  hadde  herd  this 

tale !  3084 

For  she  nis  no-thing  of  swich  pacience 
As  was  this  Melibeus  wyf  Prudence. 
By    goddes    bones !    whan    I    bete    my 

knaves, 
She  bringth  me  forth  the  grete  clobbed 

staves. 
And  cryeth,  "  slee  the   dogges  everich- 

oon, 
And  brek  hem,   bothe   bak    and   every 

boon."  3090 

And  if  that  any  neighebor  of  myne 
Wol  nat  in  chirche  to  my  wyf  enclyne. 
Or  be  so  hardy  to  hir  to  trespace. 
Whan   she    comth   hoom,   she   rampeth 

in  my  face. 
And  cryeth,  "  false  coward,  wreck   thy 

wyf,  3095 


By  corpus  bones !  I  wol  have  thy  knyf, 
And  thou  shalt  have  my  distaf  and  go 

spinne !  " 
Fro  day  to  night  right  thus  she  wol  bi- 

ginne;  — 
"  Alias !  "   she  seith,    "  that  ever  I  was 

shape  3099 

To  wedde  a  milksop  or  a  coward  ape, 
That  wol  be  overlad  with  every  wight ! 
Thou   darst  nat  stonden   by   thy   wyves 

right !  " 
This  is  my  lyf,  but-if  that  I  wol  fighte; 
And  out  at  dore  anon  I  moot  me  dighte, 
Or  elles  I  am  but  lost,  but-if  that  I   3105 
Be  lyk  a  wilde  leoun  fool- hardy. 
I  woot  wel  she  wol  do  me  slee  som  day 
Som  neighebor,  and  thanne  go  my  wey. 
For  I  am  perilous  with  knyf  in  honde, 
Al  be  it  that  I  dar  nat  hir  withstonde. 
For  she  is  big  in  amies,  by  my  feith,  31 1 1 
'That  shal  he  finde,  that  hir  misdooth  or 

seith. 
But  lat  us  passe  awey  fro  this  matere. 
My  lord  the  Monk,'  quod  he, 'be  mery 

of  chere; 
For  ye  shul  telle  a  tale  trewely.  31 15 

Lo !  Rouchestre  stant  heer  faste  by  ! 


3II7-3I80.] 


B.    THE   MONK'S    PROLOGUE. 


583 


Kyd  forth,  inyn  owcne  lord,  brek  nat  our 

game, 
But,  by  my  trouthe,   I  kiiovve   nat  your 

name, 
Wher  slial  I  calle  yovv  my  lord  dan  lohn, 
Or  dan  Thomas,  or  ellcs  dan  Albon?  3120 
Of  what  hous  be  ye,  by  your  fader  kin? 
1  vow  to  <;u(l,  thou  hast  a  ful  fair  skin, 
It  is  a  gentil  pasture  ther  thou  goost; 
Thou  art  nat  lyk  a  penaunt  or  a  goost. 
Upon  my  feith,thou  art  som  officer,  3125 
Horn  worthy  sexteyn,  or  som  celerer, 
For  by  my  fader  soule,  as  to  my  doom, 
Thou   art  a  maister   whan   thou   art   at 

hooni ; 
No  povre  cloisterer,  ne  no  novys, 
But  a  governour,  wyly  and  wys.         3 1 3° 
And  therwitlial  of  brawnes  and  of  bones 
A  wel-faring  persone  for  the  nones, 
I  pray  to  god,  yeve  him  confusioun 
That  first  thee  broghte  un-to  religioun; 
Thou   woldest    han    been    a    trede-foul 

aright.  3135 

Haddestow  as  greet  a  leve,  as  thou  hast 

might 
To    parfourne    al    thy    lust    in    engen- 

drure, 
Thou  haddest  bigeten  many  a  creature. 
Alas!  why  werestow  so  wyd  a  cope? 
•God  yeve  me  sorwe !  but,  and  I  were  a 

pope,  3140 

Not  only  thou,  but  every  mighty  man, 
Thogh  he  were  shorn  ful  hye  upon  his 

pan, 
Sholde  have  a  wyf;   for  al  the  world  is 

lorn ! 
Religioun  hath  take  up  al  the  corn 
Of    treding,    and    we    borel    men    ben 

shrimpes !  3145 

Of   feble    trees    ther    comen   wrecched 


mipes. 
This   maketh    that   our   heires   been   so 
sclendre 


And  feble,  tliat  they  may  nat  wel  engen- 

dre. 
This  maketh  that  our  wyvcs  vvol  assaye 
Religious  folk,  for  ye  may  bcttre  paye 
Of  Venus  payements  than  mowe  we;  315 1 
God  woot,  no  lussheburghes  payen  ye  ! 
But  be  nat  wrooth,  my  lord,  for  that  I 

pleye; 
Ful  ofte  in  game  a  sooth  I   have    herd 

seye.'  3154 

This  worthy  monk  took  al  in  pacience. 
And  seyde,  '  I  wol  doon  al  my  diligence. 
As  fer  as  souneth  in-to  honestee. 
To  telle  yovv  a  tale,  or  two,  or  three. 
And  if  yow  list  to  herkne  hiderward, 
I  wol  yow  seyn  the  lyf  of  seint  Edward ; 
Or  elles  first  Tragedies  wol  I  telle     3 161 
Of  whiche   I    have   an  hundred    in  my 

celle. 
Tragedie  is  to  seyn  a  certeyn  storie, 
As  olde  bokes  maken  us  memorie. 
Of  him  that  stood  in  greet  prosperitee 
And  is  y-fallen  out  of  heigh  degree  3166 
Into  miserie,  and  endeth  wrecchedly. 
And  they  ben  versifyed  comunly 
Of  six  feet,  which  men  clepe  exaiuctron. 
In  prose  eek  been  endyted  many  oon, 
And   eek    in    metre,  in  many  a  sondry 

wyse.  3171 

Lo !  this  declaring  oughte  y-nough  suf- 

fise. 
Now  herkneth,  if  yow  lyketh  for    to 

here; 
But  first  I  yow  biseke  in  this  matere, 
Though     I     by    ordre    telle    nat    thise 

thinges,  3175 

Be  it  of  popes,  emperours,  or  kinges, 
After  hir  ages,  as  men  writen  finde, 
But  telle  hem  som  bifore  and   som  bi- 

hinde. 
As    it    now  comth    un-to    my    remem- 

braunce;  3 '79 

Have  me  excused  of  myn  ignoraunce.' 
Explicit. 


584 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES 


[31 81-3240. 


THE   MONKES  TALE. 


Here    biginneth   the   Monkes     Tale,    lie 
Casibus   Virorum  Illustrium. 

I  WOL  biwayle  in  maner  of  Tragedie 
The  harm  of  hem  that  stode   in   heigh 

degree, 
And  fillen  so  that  ther  nas  no  remedie 
To  bringe  hem  out  of  hir  adversitee; 
For  certein,  whan  that   fortune   list   to 

flee,  3185 

Ther  may  no  man  the  cours  of  hir  with- 

holde; 
Lat  no  man  truste  on  blind  prosperitee; 
Be  war   by  thise  ensamples   trewe   and 

olde. 

Lucifer. 

At  Lucifer,  though  he  an  angel  were, 
And  nat  a  man,  at  him  I  wol  biginne; 
For,  thogh  fortune  may  non  angel  dere, 
From  heigh  degree  yet  fel  he  for  his  sinne 
Doun  in-to  helle,  wher  he  yet  is  inne. 
D  Lucifer  !   brightest  of  angels  alle, 
Now    artow    Sathanas,    that    niaist    nat 

twinne  3195 

Out  of  miserie,  in  which  that  thou  art 

falle. 

Adam. 

Lo  Adam,  in  the  feld  of  Damassene, 
With  goddes  owene  finger  wroght  was 

he. 
And  nat  bigeten  of  mannes  sperme  un- 

clene. 
And  welte  al  Paradys,  saving  o  tree.  3200 
Had  never  worldly  man  so  heigh  degree 
As  Adam,  til  he  for  misgovernaunce 
Was  drive  out  of  his  hye  prosperitee 
To  labour,    and   to   helle,  and  to  mes- 

chaunce. 

Sampson. 

Lo  Sampson,  which  that  was  annunciat 
By  thangel,  longe  er  his  nativitee,     3206 
And  was  to  god  almighty  consecrat, 
And  stood  in  noblesse,  whyl  he   mighte 
see. 


Was  never  swich  another  as  was  he, 
To   speke    of    strengthe,   and    therwith 

hardinesse;  3210 

But  to  his  wyves  tolde  he  his  secree, 
Through    which    he    slow  him-self,    for 

wrecchednesse. 

Sampson,  this  noble  almighty  champioun, 
Withouten  wepen  save  his  hondes  tweye. 
He  slow  and  al  to-rente  the  leoun,  3215 
Toward    his   wedding    walking   by   the 

weye. 
His   false  wyf  coude  him  so  plese  and 

preye 
Til  she  his  conseil  knew,  and  she  untrewe 
Un-to  his  foos  his  conseil  gan  biwreye. 
And   him    forsook,   and    took    another 

newe.  3220 

Three  hundred  foxes  took  Sampson  for 

ire, 
And  alle  hir  tayles  he  togider  bond, 
And  sette  the  foxes  tayles  alle  on  fire, 
For  he  on  every  tayl  had  knit  a  brond ; 
And  they  brende  alle  the  comes  in  that 

lond,  3225. 

And  alle  hir  oliveres  and  vynes  eek, 
A  thousand  men  he  slow  eek  with  his 

bond. 
And  had  no  wepen  but  an  asses  cheek. 

Whan  they  were  slayn,  so  thursted  him 

that  he 
Was  wel  ny  lorn,  for  which  he  gan  to 

preye  3230 

That  god  wolde  on  his  peyne  han  som 

pitee. 
And  sende  him  drinke,  or  elles  moste  he 

deye; 
And  of  this  asses  cheke,  that  was  dreye. 
Out  of  a  wang-tooth  sprang  anon  a  welle, 
Of   which    he  drank  y-nogh,    shortly  to 

seye,  3235 

Thus  heelp  him  god,  as  ludicum  can  telle. 

By  verray  force,  at  Gazan,  on  a  night, 
Maugree  Philistiens  of  that  citee, 
The  gates  of  the  toun  he  hath   up-plight, 
And  on  his  bak  y-caried  hem  hath  he 


3241-3306.] 


B.     THE   MONKES  TALE. 


585 


Hye  on  an   hille  that  men  mighte  hem 
see.  3241 

O  noble  ahnij^hty  Sampson,  leef  and  dere, 
Had  thou  nat  told  to  womnien  thy  secrcc, 
In  al  this  worlde  ne  hadde  been  thy  perc  ! 

This  Sampson  never  sicer  drank  ne  wyn, 
Ne   on    his   heed  cam  rasour    noon    ne 

shere,  3246 

By  precept  of  the  messaj^er  divyn, 
For  alle  his  strengthes  in  his  heres  were; 
And  fully  twenty  winter,  yeer  by  yere, 
He  hadde  of  Israel  the  governaunce. 
But  sone  shal  he  wepen  many  a  tere,  3251 
For  wommen  shal  him  bringen  to  mes- 

chaunce ! 

Un-to  his  lemman  Dalida  he  tolde 
That  in  his  heres  al  his  strengthe  lay, 
And  falsly  to  his  fo-men  she  him  solde. 
And  sleping  in  hir  barme  up-on  a  day 
She  made  to  clippe   or  shere  his  heer 

awey,  3257 

And  made  his  fo-men  al  his  craft  espyen; 
And  whan  that  they  him  fonde  in   this 

array. 
They  bounde  him   faste,  and  putten  out 

his  yen.  3260 

But  er  his  heer  were  clipped  or  y-shave, 
Ther  was  no  bond  with  which  men  might 

him  binde; 
But  now  is  he  in  prisoun  in  a  cave, 
Wher-as  they  made  him  at  the  querne 

grinde. 
O  noble   Sampson,    strongest     of   man- 

kinde,  3265 

O  whylom  luge  in  gloria  and  in  richesse, 
Now    maystow    wepen    with     thyn    yen 

blinde, 
Sith  thou  fro  wele  art  falle  in  wrecched- 

nesse. 

Thende  of  this  caytif  was  as  I  shal  seye; 
His  fo-men  made  a  feste  upon  a  day,  3270 
And  made   him   as  hir   fool  biforc  hem 

pleye, 
And  this  was  in  a  temple  of  greet  array. 
But  atte  laste  he  made  a  foul  affray; 
For  he  two  pilers  shook,  antl  made   hem 

falle, 
And  doun  fil  temple  and  al,  and  ther  it 

lay.  3275 


And  slow  him-self,  and  eek  his  fo-men 
alle. 

This  is  to  seyn,  the  princes  everichoon. 
And  eek  three  thousand  bodies  wer  ther 

slayn 
With  falling  of  the  grete  temple  of  stoon. 
Of  Sampson  now  wol  I  na-more  seyn. 
Beth    war    by    this    ensample    old    and 

playn  3281 

That   no   men   telle   hir  conseil    til    hir 

wyves 
Of  swich  thing  as  they  wolde  han  secree 

fayn. 
If  that  it  touche  hir  limmes  or  hir  lyves. 

Hercules. 

Of  Hercules   the  sovereyn    conquerour 

Singen  his  workes  laude  and  heigh  re- 
noun;  32S6 

For  in  his  tyme  of  strengthe  he  was  the 
flour. 

He  slow,  and  rafte  the  skin  of  theleoun; 

He  of  Centauros  leyde  the  boost  adoun; 

He  Arpies  slow,  the  cruel  briddes 
felle;  3290 

He  golden  apples  rafte  of  the  dragoun; 

He  drow  out  Cerberus,  the  hound  of 
helle : 

He  slow  the  cruel  tyrant  Busirus, 

And  made  his  hors  to  frete  him,    flesh 

and  boon; 
He  slow  the  firy  serpent  venimous;  3295 
Of  Achelois  two  homes,  he  brak  oon; 
And  he  slow  Cacus  in  a  cave  of  stoon; 
He  slow  the  geaunt  Antheus  the  stronge; 
He  slow  the  grisly  boor,  and  that  anoon. 
And    bar    the    heven     on     his     nekke 

longe.  3300 

Was   never   wight,  sith    that    the  world 

bigan, 
That  slow  so  many  monstres  as  dide  he. 
Thurgh-out    this    wyde   world   his  name 

ran. 
What  for  his  strengthe,  and  for  his  heigh 

bountee, 
And    every    reaume    wente    he    for   to 

see.  3305 

He  was  so  strong   that  no  man  mighte 

him  lette; 


586 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[3307-3378. 


At  bothe  the  worldes  endes,  seith  Tro- 

phee, 
In  stede  of  boundes,  he  a  pilar  sette. 

A  lemman  hadde  this  noble  champioun, 
That  highte  Dianira,  fresh  as  May;  3310 
And,  as  thise  clerkes  niaken  niencioun, 
She  hath  him  sent  a  sherte  fresh  and  gay. 
Alias !  this  sherte,  alias  and  weylaway  ! 
Envenimed  was  so  subtilly  with-alle. 
That,  er   that   he   had  wered   it   half  a 
day,  3315 

It  made  his  flesh  al  from  his  bones  falle. 

But  nathelees  somme  clerkes  hir  excusen 
By  oon  that  highte  Nessus,  that  it  maked; 
Be  as  be  may,  I  wol  hir  noght  accusen; 
But  on  his  bak  this  sherte  he  wered  al 

naked,  3320 

Til    that   his   flesh  was   for    the    venim 

blaked. 
And  whan  he  sey  noon  other  remedye, 
In  bote  coles  he  hath  him-selven  raked. 
For  with  no  venim  deyned  him  to  dye. 

Thus  starf  this  worthy  mighty  Hercules; 
Lo,   who  may    truste    on    fortune    any 

throwe?  33^6 

For  him  that  folweth  al  this  world  of  prees, 
Er  he  be  war,  is  ofte  y-leyd  ful  lowe. 
F'ul  wys  is  he  that  can  him-selven  knowe. 
Beth  war,  for  whan  that  fortune  list  to 

glose,  3330 

Than  wayteth  she  hir  man  to  overthrowe 
By  swich  a  wey  as  he  wolde  leest  suppose. 

Nabugodonosor  (Nebuchadnezzar). 

The  mighty  trone,  the  precious  tresor. 
The  glorious  ceptre  and  royal  magestee 
That  hadde  the  king  Nabugodonosor, 
With  tonge  unnethe  may  discryved  be. 
He  twyes  wan  lerusalem  the  citee  ; 
The  vessel  of  the  temple   he  with  him 

ladde. 
At  Babiloyne  was  his  sovereyn  see. 
In  which    his  glorie  and    his   delyt   he 

hadde.  334° 

The  fairest  children  of  the  blood  royal 
Of  Israel  he  leet  do  gelde  anoon. 
And   maked   ech   of  hem   to  been   his 
thral. 


Amonges  othere  Daniel  was  oon,      3344 
That  was  the  wysest  child  of  everichoon  ; 
For  he  the  dremes  of  the  king  expouned, 
Wher-as   in  Chaldey  clerk  ne   was   ther 

noon 
That    wiste    to    what    fyn    his    dremes 

souned. 

This  proude  king  leet  make  a  statue  of 
golde,  3349 

Sixty  cubytes  long,  and  seven  in  brede, 
To  which  image  bothe  yonge  and  olde 
Comaunded    he   to   loute,   and   have   in 

drede  ; 
Or  in  a  fourneys  ful  of  flambes  rede 
He    shal    be    brent,  that   wolde    noght 
obeye.  3354 

But  never  wolde  assente  to  that  dede 
Daniel,  ne  his  yonge  felawes  tweye. 

This  king  of  kinges  proud  was  and  elaat, 
He  wende  that  god,  that  sit  in  magestee, 
Ne  mighte  him  nat  bireve  of  his  estaat : 
But  sodeynly  he  loste  his  dignitee,    3360 
And  lyk  a  beste  him  semed  for  to  be. 
And  eet  hay  as  an  oxe,  and   lay    ther- 

oute  ; 
In  reyn  with  wilde  bestes  walked  he, 
Til  certein  tymc  was  y-come  aboute. 

And    lyk    an    egles   fetheres   wexe    his 

heres,  336$ 

His  nayles  lyk  a  briddes  clawes  were  ; 
Til  god  relessed  him  a  certein  yeres, 
And  yaf  him  wit  ;   and  than  with  many  a 

tere 
He    thanked   god,  and  ever  his  lyf  in 

fere 
Was  he  to  doon  amis,  or  more  trespace, 
And,  til  that  tyme  he  leyd  was  on  his 

here,  337^ 

He  knew  that  god  was  ful  of  might  and 

grace. 

Balthasar  (Belshazzar) 

His  sone,  which  that  highte  Balthasar, 
That   heeld    the   regne    after   his    fader 
day,  3374 

He  by  his  fader  coude  nought  be  war. 
For  proud  he  was  of  herte  and  of  array  ; 
And  eek  an  ydolastre  was  he  ay. 
His  hye  estaat  assured  him  in  pryde. 


3379-3447] 


B.    THE   MONKES  TALE. 


587 


But  fortune  caste  him  tloun,  and  ther  he 

lay, 
And  sodeynly  his  regne  gan  divyde.  3380 

A  feste  he  made  un-to  his  lordes  alle 
Up-oa  a  tyme,  and  bad  hem  blythe  he, 
And  than  his  officeres  gan  he  calle  — 
'Goth,  bringeth  forth  the  vessels,'  [the] 
quod  he,  3384 

'  Which  that  my  fader,  in  his  prosperitee, 
Out  of  the  temple  of  lerusalem  birafte, 
And  to  our  hye  goddes  thanke  we 
Of  honour,  that  our  eldres  with  us  lafte.' 

His  wyf,  his  lordes,  and  his  concubynes 
Ay  dronken,  whyl  hir  appetytes  laste. 
Out  of  thise  noble  vessels  sundry  wynes  ; 
And  on  a  wal  this  king  his  yen  caste, 
And  sey  an  hond  armlees,  that  wroot  ful 

faste, 
For  fere  of  which  he  quook  and  syked 

sore.  3394 

This  hond,  that  Balthasar  so  sore  agaste, 
Wroot  Mane,  techel,phares,  and  na-more. 

In  al  that  lond  magicien  was  noon 
That    coude    expoune    what    this   lettre 

mente  ; 
But  Daniel  expouned  it  anoon,  3399 

And  seyde,  '  king,  god  to  thy  fader  lente 
Glorie  and  honour,  regne,  tresour,  rente  : 
And  he  was  proud,  and  no-thing  god  ne 

dradde. 
And  therfor  god  gret  wreche  up-on  him 

sente. 
And    him    birafte    the    regne    that    he 

hadde. 

He  was  out  cast  of  mannes  companye. 
With  asses  was  his  habitacioun,         3406 
And  eet  hey  as  a  beste  in  weet  and  drye, 
Til  that  he  knew,  by  grace  and  by  resoun. 
That  god  of  heven  hath  dominacioun 
Over  every  regne  and  every  creature  ; 
And  thanne  had  god  of  him  compassioun. 
And   him   restored    his   regne   and    his 
figure. 

Eek  thou,  that  art  his  sone,  art  proud 

also, 
And  knowest  alle  thise  thinges  verraily. 
And  art  rebel  to  god,  and  art  his  fo.  3415 
Thou  drank  eek  of  his  vessels  boldely  ; 


Thy  wyf  eek  and  thy  wenches  sinfully 
Dronke  of  the  same  vessels  sondry  wynes, 
And  heriest  false  goddes  cursedly  ; 
Therfor  to  thee  y-shapen  ful  gret  pyne 
is.  3420 

This  hand  was  sent  from  god,  that  on 

the  walle 
Wroot  mane,  iechcl,  phares,  truste  me  •, 
Thy  regne  is  doon,  thou  weyest  noght  at 

alle  ; 
Divyded  is  thy  regne,  and  it  shal  be 
To  Medes  and  to  Perses  yeven,'  quod  he. 
And  thilke   same   night   this   king   was 

slawe. 
And  Darius  occupyeth  his  degree, 
Thogh  he    therto    had  neither  right  ne 

la  we. 

Lordinges,    ensample    heer-by    may    ye 

take  3429 

How  that  in  lordshipe  is  no  sikernesse  ; 
For  whan  fortune  wol  a  man  forsake. 
She    bereth    awey    his    regne    and    his 

richesse. 
And  eek   his  freendes,  bothe  more  and 

lesse  ; 
For  what  man  that  hath  freendes  thurgh 

fortune,  3434 

Mishap  wol  make  hem  enemys,  I  gesse  : 
This    proverbe    is    ful    sooth    and    ful 

commune. 

Cenobia  (Zenobia). 

Cenobia,  of  Palimerie  quene. 
As  writen  Persiens  of  hir  noblesse, 
So  worthy  was  in  armes  and  so  kene. 
That  no  wight  passed  hir  in  hardinesse, 
Ne  in  linage,  ne  in  other  gentillesse. 
Of    kinges   blode   of  Perse   is   she    de- 
scended ; 
I   seye   nat   that   she    hadde    most   fair- 

nesse. 
But  of  hir  shape  she  mighte    nat   been 
amended. 

From  hir  childhede  I  finde  that  she 
fledde  3445 

Office  of  wommen,  and  to  wode  she 
weiite  ; 

And  many  a  wilde  hertes  blood  she 
shedde 


588 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[344^3512. 


With    arvves    brode    that    she    to    hem 

sente. 
She   was   so  swift    that    she  anon   hem 

hente, 
And  whan  that  she  was  elder,  she  wolde 

kille  3450 

Leouns,  lepardes,  and  beres  al  to-rente, 
And  in  hir  armes  welde  hem  at  hir  wille. 

She'dorste  wilde  beestes  dennes  seke, 
And    rennen    in  the   montaignes  al   the 

night, 
And  slepen  under  a  bush,  and  she  coude 

eke  3455 

Wrastlen    by    verray    force   and   verray 

might 
With  any  yong  man,  were  he  never  so 

wight  ; 
Ther    mighte    no-thing    in     hir     armes 

stonde. 
She   kepte    hir   maydenhod   from  every 

wight, 
To    no    man    deigned    hir    for    to    be 

bonde.  3460 

But  atte  laste  hir  frendes  han  hir  maried 
To  Odenake,  a  prince  of  that  contree, 
Al  were  it  so  that  she  hem  longe  taried; 
And  ye  shul  understonde  how  that  he 
Hadde  swiche  fantasyes  as  hadde  she, 
But  nathelees,  whan  they  were  knit   in- 

fere,  34^6 

They  lived  in  loye  and  in  felicitee; 
For  ech  of  hem   hadde  other  leef  and 

dere. 

Save    o    thing,   that    she    never   wolde 

assente 
]5y  no  wey,  that  he  sholde  by  hir  lye  3470 
But  ones,  for  it  was  hir  pleyn  entente 
To  have  a  child,  the  world  to  multiplye; 
And    al-so    sone    as    that    she    mighte 

espye 
That  she  was  nat  with  childe  with  that 

dede. 
Than    wolde    she   suffre    him    doon   his 

fantasye  3475 

Eft-sone,  and  nat  but  ones,  out  of  drede. 

And  if  she  were  with  childe    at    thilke 

cast, 
Na-more  sholde  he  pleyen  thilke  game 
Til  fully  fourty  dayes  weren  past; 


Than  wolde  she  ones  suffre  him  do  the 
same.  34^0 

Al  were  this  Odenake  wilde  or  tame. 
He   gat    na-more   of  hir,    for   thus   she 

seyde, 
'  It  was  to  wyves  lecherye  and  shame 
In   other   cas,   if    that    men    with   hem 
pleyde.' 

Two  sones  by  this  Odenake  hadde  she. 
The  whiche  she  kepte  in  vertu  and  let- 

trure;  34^6 

But  now  un-to  our  tale  turne  we. 
I  seye,  so  worshipful  a  creature, 
And  wys  therwith,  and  large  with  me- 

sure. 
So    penible    in   the   werre,   and  curteis 

eke,  3490 

Ne  more  labour  mighte  in  werre  endure, 
Was    noon,    thogh    al    this   world    men 

sholde  seke. 

Hir  riche  array  ne  mighte  nat  be  told 
As  wel  in  vessel  as  in  hir  clothing; 
She  was  al  clad  in  perree  and  in  gold. 
And  eek  she  lafte  noght,  for  noon  hunt- 
ing. .  3496 
To  have  of  sondry  tonges  ful  knowing, 
Whan  that  she  leyser  hadde,  and  for  to 

entende 
To  lernen  bokes  was  al  hir  lyking. 
How   she  in  vertu   mighte    hir  lyf  dis- 
pende.  35^0 

And,  shortly  of  this  storie  for  to  trete. 
So  doughty  was  hir  housbonde  and  eek 

she. 
That  they  conquered  many  regnes  grete 
In  the  orient,  with  many  a  fair  citee, 
Apertenaunt  un-to  the  magestee        3505 
Of  Rome,  and   with  strong  bond  helde 

hem  ful  faste; 
Ne  never  mighte  hir  fo-men  doon   hem 

flee. 
Ay  whyl  that  Odenakes  dayes  laste. 

Hir    batailes,    who-so   list   hem    for   to 

rede, 
Agayn  Sapor  the  king  and  othere  mo. 
And    how    that    al    this    proces    fil    in 

dede,  351 1 

Why  she  conquered  and  what  title  had 

therto, 


35I3-3579-] 


B.     THE   MONKES  TALE. 


589 


And  after  of  hir  niescliicf  and  hir  wo, 
How  that  she  was  liisefjed  and  y-take, 
Let  him  un-to  my  maister  I'etrark  }^o, 
That  writ  y-nough  of  this,  I  undertake. 

When  Odenake  was  deed,  she  mightily 
The  regnes  heeld,  and  with   hir    propre 

honde 
Agayn  hir  foos  she  faught  so  cruelly, 
'I'hat  thcr  nas  king  ne  prince  in  al  that 

londe  3520 

That  he  nas  glad,  if  that  he  grace  fonde, 
That  she  ne  wolde  up-on  his  lond  wcr- 

reye ; 
With  hir  they  made  alliaunce  by  bonde 
To  been  in  pees,  and  lete  hir  ryde   and 

pleye. 

The  emperour  of  Rome,  Claudius,     3525 
Ne  him  bifore,  the  Komayn  dalien, 
Ne  dorste  never  been  so  corageous, 
Ne  noon  Krmyn,  ne  noon  Egipcien, 
Ne  Surrien,  ne  noon  Arabien, 
Within    the    feld    that    dorste    with    hir 

fighte  3530 

Lest  that  she  wolde  hem  with  hir  hondes 

slen. 
Or   with    hir    meynee    putten    hem    to 

flighte. 

In  kinges  habit  wente  hir  sones  two, 
As  heires  of  hir  fadres  regnes  alle, 
And  Hermanno,  and  Thymalao         3535 
Her  names  were,  as  Persians  hem  calle. 
But  ay  fortune  hath  in  hir  hony  galle; 
This  mighty  queue  may  no  whyl  endure. 
Fortune  out  of  hir  regne  made  hir  falle 
To  wrecchednesse  and  to  misaventure. 

Aurelian,  whan  that  the  governaunce 
Of  Rome  cam  in-to  his  hondes  tweye. 
He  shoop  up-on  this  queen  to  do  ven- 

geaunce. 
And     with    his    legiouns     he    took    his 

weye 
Towafd    Cenobie,    and,   shortly    for    to 

seye,  3545 

He    made   hir    flee,    and    atte    laste    hir 

hente, 
And    fettred  hir,  and    eek    hir    children 

tweye. 
And  wan  the  lond,  and  hoom   to   Rome 

he  wente. 


Amonges  otliere  thinges  that  he  wan, 
Hir    char,  that   was  with    gold   wrought 

and  pcrree,  355° 

This  grete  Romayn,  this  Aurelian, 
Hath  with  him  lad,  for  that  men  sholde 

it  see. 
Biforen  his  triumphe  walketh  she 
With  gilte  cheynes  on   hir  nekke  hang- 

'"g;  .  3554 

Corouned  was  she,  as  after  hir  degree. 
And  ful  of  perree  charged  hir  clothing. 

Alias,  fortune  !  she  that  whylom  was 
Dredful  to  kinges  and  to  emperoures. 
Now  gaureth  al  the  peple  on  hir,  alias! 
And    she    that    helmed    was    in    starke 

stoures,  3560 

And   wan  by  force  tounes  stronge  and 

toures, 
Shal  on  hir  heed  now  were  a  vitremyte; 
And   she    that    bar    the    ceptre    ful    of 

floures 
Shal  here  a  distaf,  hir  cost  for  to  quyte. 

(Nero /0//0ZOS  in  T.  ;  see  p.  591.) 

De  Petro  Rege  Ispannie. 

O    noble,    o    worthy    Petro,    gloria    of 

Spayne,  3565 

Whom  fortune  heeld  so  hy  in  magestee, 
Wei  oughten  men  thy  pitous  deeth  com- 

playne ! 
Out  of  thy  lond   thy  brother  made   thee 

flee; 
And  after,  at  a  sege,  by  subtiltee. 
Thou  were   bitrayed,  and   lad   un-to  his 

tente,  357° 

Wher-as  he  with  his  owene  hond  slow 

thee, 
Succeding  in  thy  regne  anfl  in  thy  rente. 

The   feeld   of  snow,  with  thegle  of  blak 

ther-inne, 
Caught  with  the  lymrod,  coloured  as  the 

glede. 
He    brew    this   cursednes    and    al    this 

sinne.  3575 

The  '  wikked   nest'    was  werker  of  this 

nede; 
Noght  Charles  Oliver,  that  ay  took  hede 
Of  trouthe  and  honour,  liut  of  .\rmorike 
Genilon  Oliver,  corrupt  for  mede, 


590 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[3580-3643. 


Broghte     this   worthy   king  in   swich  a 
brike.  35^0 

De  Petro  Rege  de  Cipro. 

O  worthy  Petro,  king  of  Cypre,  also, 
'1  hat  Alisaundre  wan  by  heigh  maistrye, 
I'ul  many  a  hethen  wroghtestow  ful  wo. 
Of  which  thyn  owene  hges  hadde  envye, 
And,  for  no  thing  hut  for  thy  chivalrye. 
They  in  thy  bedde  han  slayn  thee  by  the 
morwe.  35^^ 

Thus  can  fortune  hir  wheel  governe  and 

gye, 

And  out  of  loye  bringe  men  to  sorwe. 

De  Barnabo  de  Lumbardia. 

Of  Melan  grete  Barnabo  Viscounte, 
God  of  delyt,  and  scourge  of  Lunibardye, 
Why  sholde  I  nat  thyn  infortune  acounte, 
Sith  in  estaat  thou  clombe  were  so  hye? 
Thy  brother  sone,  that  was  thy  double 

allye, 
For  he  thy  nevew  was,  and  sone-in-lawe, 
With-inne  his  prisoun  made  thee  to  dye; 
But  why,  ne  how,  noot  I  that  thou  were 

slawe.  3596 

De  Hugelino,  Comite  de  Pize. 

Of  the  erl  Hugelyn  of  Pyse  the  langour 
Ther  may  no  tonge  telle  for  pitee; 
But  litel  out  of  Pyse  stant  a  tour. 
In  whiche  tour  in  prisoun  put  was  he. 
And  with  him     been    his  litel  children 

three.  3601 

The  eldeste  scarsly  fyf  yeei  was  of  age. 
Alias,  fortune  !   it  was  greet  crueltee 
Swiche  briddes  for  to  putte  in  swiche  a 

cage  ! 

Dampned  was  he  to  deye  in  that  pris- 
oun, 3605 

For  Roger,  which  that  bisshop  was  of 
Pyse, 

Hadde  on  him  maad  a  fals  suggestioun, 

Thurgh  which  the  peple  gan  upon  him 
ryse. 

And  putten  him  to  prisoun  in  swich 
wyse 

As  ye  han  herd,  and  mete  and  drink  he 
hadde  3610 


So  smal,  that  wel  unnethe  it  may  suffyse, 
And   therwith-al  it  was   ful    povre    and 
badde. 

And  on  a  day  bifil  that,  in  that  hour. 
Whan  that   his    mete   wont  was  to  be 

broght,  3614 

The  gayler  shette  the  dores  of  the  tour. 
He  herde  it  wel,  —  but    he    spak   right 

noght. 
And  in  his  herte  anon  ther  fil  a  thoght. 
That  they  for  hunger  wolde  doon  him 

dyen. 
'  Alias  ! '    quod    he,   '  alias  !    that   I  was 

wroght!'  3619 

Therwith  the  teres  fillen  from  his  yen. 

His  yonge  sone,  that  three  yeer  was  of 

age, 
Un-to  him    seyde,    '  fader,    why  do  ye 

wepe? 
Whan     wol    the     gayler     bringen     our 

potage. 
Is  ther  no  morsel  breed  that  ye  do  kepe? 
I  am  so  hungry  that  I  may  nat  slcpe. 
Now  wolde  god    that  I  mighte    slepen 

ever !  3626 

Than  sholde  nat  hunger  in  my  wombe 

crepe; 
Ther  is  no  thing,  save  breed,  that  me 

were  lever.' 

Thus  day  by  day  this  child  bigan  to  crye. 
Til  in  his  fadres  barme  adoun  it  lay,  3630 
And  seyde,  '  far-wel,  fader,  I  moot  dye,' 
And  kiste  his  fader,  and  deyde  the  same 

day. 
And  whan  the  woful  fader  deed  it  sey, 
For  wo  his  amies  two  he  gan  to  byte, 
And  seyde,  'alias,  fortune!  and  weyla- 

way !  3635 

Thy  false  wheel  my  wo  al  may  I  wyte !  ' 

His  children  wende   that  it  for  hunger 

was 
That  he  his  armes  gnow,  and  nat  for  wo, 
And  seyde,  '  fader,  do  nat  so,  alias  ! 
But  rather  eet  the  flesh  upon  us  two; 
Our  flesh  thou  yaf  us,  tak  our  flesh   us 

fro  3641 

And   eet   y-nough : '    right  thus  they   to 

him  seyde. 
And  after  that,  with-in  a  day  or  two, 


3644-37 '6.] 


B.    THE   MONKES  TALE. 


591 


They  leyde  hem  in  his  lappe  ailoun,  and 
ileyde. 

Ilim-self,    despeired,    eek     for     hunger 

starf;  3645 

Thus  ended  is  this  mighty  Erl  of  Pyse; 
From   heigh    estaat    fortune    awey    him 

carf. 
Of  this  Tragedie  it  oghte  y-nough  suf- 

fyse. 
Who-so  wol  here  it  in  a  lenger  wyse, 
Redeth  the  grete  poete  of  Itaille,       3650 
That  highte  Uant,  for  he  can  al  devyse 
Fro  point  to  point,  nat  o  word  wol  he 

faille. 

Nero. 

Al-though  that  Nero  were  as  vicious 
As  any  feend  that  lyth  ful  lowe  adoun, 
Yet  he,  as  telleth  us  Swetonius,  3655 

This  wyde  world  hadde  in  subieccioun. 
Both  Est  and  West,  South  and  Septem- 

trioun; 
Of  rubies,  saphires,  and  of  perles  whyte 
Were  alle   his  clothes   brouded  up   and 

doun;  3659 

For  he  in  gemmes  greetly  gan  delyte. 

More  delicat,  more  pompous  of  array. 
More   proud   was   never   emperour   than 

he; 
That  ilke  cloth,  that  he  had  wered  o  day. 
After  that  tyme  he  nolde  it  never  see. 
Nettes    of    gold-thred     hadde    he     gret 

plentee  3665 

To  fisshe  in  Tybre,  whan  him  liste  pleye. 
His  lustes  were  al  lawe  in  his  decree, 
For  fortune   as    his    freend    him   woliie 

obeye. 

He  Rome  brende  for  his  delicacye; 
The  senatours  he  slow  up-on  a  day.  3670 
To  here  how  men  wolde  wepe  and  crye; 
And  slow   his  brother,  and  by  his  sister 

lay. 
His  moder  made  he  in  pitous  array; 
For  he  hir  wombe  slitte,  to  biholde 
Wher  he  conceyved  was;   so  weilawey  ! 
That  he  so  litel  of  his  moder  tolde  !  3676 

No  tere  out  of  his  yen  for  that  sighte 
Ne  cam,  but  seyde,  '  a  fair  womman  was 
she.* 


Gret  wonder  is,  how  that  he  coude  or 

mighte 
Be  domesman  of  hir  dede  beautee.    3680 
The  wyn  to  bringen  him  comaunded  he. 
And    drank    anon  ;     non    other   wo   he 

made. 
Whan  miglit  is  loyned  un-to  crueltee, 
Alias  !  to  depe  wol  the  venim  wade  ! 

In  youthe  a  maister  hadde  this  emperour. 

To  teche  him  letterure  and  curteisye, 

For  of  moralitce  he  was  the  (lour. 

As  in  his  tyme,  but-if  bokes  lye; 

And  whyl  this    maister   hatlde  of    him 

maistrye, 
He  maked  him  so  conning  and  so  souple 
That  longe  tyme  it  was  er  tirannye    3691 
Or  any  vyce  dorste  on  him  uncouple. 

This  Seneca,  of  which  that  I  devyse. 
By-cause  Nero  hadde  of  him  swich  drede, 
P^or  he  fro  vyces  wolde  him  ay  chastyse 
Discreetly    as    by    worde     and   nat    by 

dede; —  3696 

'  Sir,'  wolde  he  seyn,  '  an  emperour  moot 

nede 
Be  vertuous,  and  hate  tirannye  '  — 
For    which    he  in  a  bath  made  him  to 

blede  3699 

On  bothe  his  amies,  til  he  moste  dye. 

This  Nero  hadde  eek  of  acustumaunce 
In  youthe  ageyn  his  maister  for  to  ryse, 
Which   afterward   him  thoughte  a  greet 

grevaunce; 
Therfor  he  made  him  deyen  in  this  wyse. 
But  natheles  this  Seneca  the  wyse      3705 
Chees  in  a  bath  to  deye  in  this  manere 
Rather  than  han  another  tormentyse; 
And  thus  hath  Nero  slayn  his  maister 

dere. 

Now  fil  it  so  that  fortune  list  no  lenger 
The  hye  pryde  of  Nero  to  cheryce;    3710 
For  though  that  he  were  strong,  yet  was 

she  strenger; 
She  thoughte  thus,  '  by  god,  I  am  to  nyce 
To  sette  a  man  that  is  fuUild  of  vyce 
In    heigh    degree,    and    emperour    him 

calle. 
Bv  god,  out  of  his  sete  I  wol  him  tryce; 
When   he  leest  weneth,  sonest    shal   he 

falle.'  3716 


592 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[3717-3788. 


The  peple  roos  up-on  him  on  a  night 
P'or  his  defaute,  and  whan  he  it  espyed, 
Out  of  his  dores  anon  he  hath  him  dight 
Alone,  and,  ther  he  wende  han  ben  allyed, 
lie  knokked  faste,  and  ay,  the  more  he 

cryed,  3721 

The  faster  shette  they  the  dores  alle; 
Tho  wiste  he  wel  he  hadde  him-self  mis- 

gyed, 
And  wente  his  wey,  no  lenger  dorste  he 

calle. 

The  peple  cryde   and   rombled   up  and 

doun,  3725 

That  with  his  eres   herde  he  how  they 

seyde, 
'  Wher   is   this   false    tyraunt,   this    Ne- 

roun?' 
For  fere  almost  out  of  his  wit  he  breyde, 
And  to  his  goddes  pitously  he  preyde 
For  socour,  but  it  mighte  natbityde.  3730 
For  drede  of  this,  him  thoughte  that  he 

deyde. 
And  ran  in-to  a  gardin,  him  to  hyde. 

And  in  this  gardin  fond  he  cherles  tweye 
That  seten  by  a  fyr  ful  greet  and  reed. 
And    to    thise    cherles    two    he    gan    to 

preye  3735 

To  sleen  him,  and  to  girden  of  his  heed. 
That  to  his  body,  whan   that    he   were 

deed, 
Were  no  despyt  y-doon,  for  his  defame. 
Him-self  he  slow,  he  coude   no    better 

reed, 
Of  which  fortune   lough,   and   hadde   a 

game.  3740 

De  Oloferno  (Holofernes). 

Was  never  capitayn  under  a  king 
That  regnes  mo  putte  in  subieccioun, 
Ne  strenger  was  in  feeld  of  alle  thing. 
As  in  his  tyme,  ne  gretter  of  renoun, 
Ne    more   pompous   in   heigh  presump- 

cioun  3745 

Than  Oloferne,  which  fortune  ay  kiste 
So   likerously,   and   ladde   him    up   and 

doun 
Til  that  his  heed  was  of,  er  that  he  wiste. 

Nat  only  that  this  world  hadde  him  in 
awe 


For  lesinge  of  richesse  or  libertee,     3750 
But  he  made  every  man  reneye  his  lawe. 
'  Naljugodonosor  was  god,'  seyde  he, 
'Noon  other  god  sholde  adoured  be.' 
Ageyns  his  heste  no  wight  dar  trespace 
Save  in  Bethulia,  a  strong  citee,         3755 
Wher  Eliachim  a  prest  was  of  that  place. 

But  tak  kepe  of  the  deeth  of  Olofern; 
Amidde  his  host  he  dronke  lay  a  night, 
With-inne  his  tente,  large  as  is  a  bern. 
And  yit,  for  al  his   pompe   and   al    his 

might,  3760 

ludith,  a  womman,  as  he  lay  upright, 
Sleping,  his  heed  of  smoot,  and  from  his 

tente 
Ful  prively  she  stal  from  every  wight. 
And  with  his  heed  unto    hir   toun  she 

wente. 

De  Rege  Anthiocho  illustri. 

What  nedeth  it  of  King  Anthiochus  3765 
To  telle  his  hye  royal  magestee. 
His  hye  pryde,  his  werkes  venimous? 
For  swich  another  was  ther  noon  as  he. 
Rede  which  that  he  was  in  Machabee, 
And  rede   the   proude   wordes   that   he 
seyde,  377° 

And  why  he  fil  fro  heigh  prosperitee, 
And  in  an  hill  how  wrechedly  he  deyde. 

Fortune    him  hadde  enhaunched   so   in 

pryde 
That  verraily  he  wende  he  mighte  attayne 
Unto  the  sterres,  upon  every  syde,    3775 
And  in  balance  weyen  ech  montayne. 
And  alle  the  flodes  of  the  see  restrayne. 
And    goddes    peple    hadde    he    most    in 

hate, 
Hem  wolde  he  sleen  in  torment  and  in 

payne, 
Wening  that  god  ne  mighte  his  pryde 

abate.  3780 

And  for  that  Nichanor  and  Thimothee 
Of  lewes  weren  venquisshed  mightily. 
Unto  the  lewes  swich  an  hate  hadde  he 
That  he  bad  greithe  his  char  ful  hastily. 
And  swoor,  and  seyde,  ful  despitously. 
Unto  Jerusalem  he  wolde  eft-sone,    3786 
To  wreken  his  ire  on  it  ful  cruelly; 
But  of  his  purpos  he  was  let  ful  sone. 


3789-3859-] 


B.    THE  MONKES  TALE, 


593 


God  for  his  manace  him  so  sore  smoot 
With  iiivisil)le  woumle,  ay  incurable,  3790 
That  in  his  guttes  carf  it  so  and  boot 
That  his  peyncs  wercn  iniportable. 
And  certeinly,  the  wreche  was  resonable, 
?"or  many  a  mannes  guttes  diile  he  peyne; 
But  from  his  purpos  cursed  and  dampna- 

ble  3795 

For  al  his  smert  he  woUlc  him  nat  re- 

streyne; 

But  bad  anon  apparaillen  his  host, 
And  sodeynly,  er  he  of  it  was  war, 
God  daunteil  al  his  pride  and  al  his  host. 
For  he  so  sore  til  out  of  his  char,       3800 
That  it  his  limes  and  his  skin  to-tar, 
So  that  he  neither  mighte  go  ne  ryde, 
But  in  a  chayer  men  al)oute  him  bar, 
Al  for-brused,  bothe  bak  and  syde. 

The  wreche  of  god  him  smoot  so 
cruelly  3805 

That  thurgh  his  body  wikked  wormes 
crepte; 

And  ther-with-al  he  stank  so  horribly. 

That  noon  of  al  his  meynee  that  him 
kepte, 

Whether  so  he  wook  or  elles  slepte, 

Ne  mighte  noght  for  stink  of  him  en- 
dure. 3810 

In  this  meschief  he  wayled  and  eek 
wepte. 

And  knew  god  lord  of  every  creature. 

To  al  his  host  and  to  him-self  also 
Ful  wlatsom  was  the  stink  of  his  careyne; 
No  man  ne  mighte  him  here  to  ne  fro.  381 5 
And  in  this  stink  and  this  horrible  peyne 
He  starf  ful  wrecchedly  in  a  monteyne. 
Thus  hath   this  robbour   and  this  homi- 

cyde, 
That  many  a   man   made   to    wepe   and 

pleyne,  3819 

Swich  guerdon  as  bilongeth  unto  pryde. 

De  Alexandro. 

The  storie  of  Alisaundre  is  so  comune, 
That  every  wight  that  hath  discrecioun 
Hath  herd  somwhat  or  al  of  his  fortune. 
This  wyde  world,  as  in  conclusioun, 
He  wan  by  strengthe,  or  for  his  hye  re- 
noun  3825 
2Q 


They   weren   glad    for  pees    unto    him 

sende. 
The  prytle  of  man  and  beste  he  leyde 

adoun, 
Wher-so  he  cam,  un-to  the  worldes  ende. 

Comparisoun  might  never  yit  be  maked 
Bitwixe  him  and  another  concjuerour; 
For  al  this  world  for  drede  of  him  hath 

quaked,  3831 

He  was  of  knighthode   and    of   fredom 

flour; 
Fortune  him  made  the  heir  of  hir  honour; 
Save  wyn  and  womnien,  no-thing  mighte 

aswage 
His  hye  entente  in  armes  and  labour;  3835 
So  was  he  ful  of  leonyn  corage. 

What  preys  were  it  to  him,  though  I  yow 

tolde 
Of  Darius,  and  an  hundred  thousand  mo. 
Of  kinges,  princes,  erles,  dukes  bolde, 
Whiche  he  conquered,  and  broghte  hem 

in-to  wo?  3840 

I  seye,  as  fer  as  man  may  ryde  or  go. 
The  world  was  his,  what  sholde  I  more 

devyse? 
For  though  I  write  or  tolde  you  evermo 
Of  his  knighthode,  it  mighte  nat  suffyse. 

Twelf  yeer  he  regned,  as  seith  Macha- 
bee;  3845 

Philippes  sone  of  Macedoyne  he  was. 

That  first  was  king  in  Grece  the  con- 
tree. 

O  worthy  gentil  Alisaundre,  alias ! 

That  ever  sholde  fallen  swich  a  cas ! 

Empoisoned  of  thyn  owene  folk  thou 
were;  3850 

Thy  sys  fortune  hath  turned  into  as, 

And  yit  for  thee  ne  weep  she  never  a 
tere ! 

Who  shal  me  yeven  teres  to  compleyne 
The  deeth  of  gentillesse  and  of  fraun- 

chyse, 
That     al     the     world     welded     in     his 

demeyne,  3855 

And    yit    him    thoughte    it   mighte    nat 

suffyse  ? 
So  ful  was  his  corage  of  heigh  empryse. 
Alias !   who  shal  me  hclpe  to  endyte 
False  fortune,  and  poison  to  despyse, 


594 


THE   CANTERRURV   TALfiS. 


[3860-3929. 


The    whiche    two     of    al     this    wo     I 
wyte  ?  3860 

De  Iulio  Cesare. 

By    wisdom,    manhede,    and    by    greet 

labour 
Fro  humble  bed  to  royal  magestee, 
Up  roos  he,  lulius  the  conquerour, 
That   wan   al   thoccident    by   lond    and 

see. 
By     strengthe    of    hond,    or    elles    by 

tretee,  3865 

And  un-to  Rome  made  hem  tributarie; 
And  sitthe  of  Rome  the  emperour    was 

he, 
Til  that  fortune  wex  his  adversarie. 

0  mighty  Cesar,  that  in  Thessalye     3869 
Ageyn  Pompeius,  fader  thyn  in  lawe, 
That  of  thorient  hadde  al  the  chivalrye 
As  fer  as  that  the  day  biginneth  dawe. 
Thou  thurgh  thy  knighthode  hast  hem 

take  and  slawe. 
Save    fewe     folk   that    with     Pompeius 

fledde, 
Thurgh  which  thou  puttest  al  thorient  in 

awe.  3875 

Thanke  fortune,  that  so  wel  thee  spedde  ! 

But  now  a  litel  whyl  I  wol  biwaille 
This  Pompeius,  this  noble  governour 
Of    Rome,    which    that    fleigh    at    this 
bataille;  3^79 

1  seye,  oon  of  his  men,  a  fals  traitour. 
His  heed  of  smoot,  to  winnen  him  favour 
Of  lulius,  and  him  the  heed  he  broghte. 
Alias,  Pompey,  of  thorient  conquerour. 
That    fortune    unto    swich    a    fyn    thee 

broghte ! 

To  Rome  ageyn  repaireth  lulius         3885 
With  his  triumphe,  laureat  ful  hye. 
But  on  a  tyme  Brutus  Cassius, 
That  ever  hadde  of  his  hye  estaat  envye, 
Ful  prively  hath  maad  conspiracye 
Ageins  this  lulius,  in  subtil  wyse,       3890 
And  cast  the  place,  in  whiche  he  sholde 

dye 
With  boydekins,  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 

This  lulius  to  the  Capitolie  wente 
Upon  a  day,  as  he  was  wont  to  goon, 


And      in      the      Capitolie      anon      him 
hente  3895 

This  false  Brutus,  and  his  othere  foon, 
And  stikede  him  with  boydekins  anoon 
With  many  a  wounde,  and  thus  they  lete 

him  lye; 
But  never  gronte  he  at  no  strook  but 

oon, 
Or  elles  at  two,  but-if  his  storie  lye.  3900 

So  manly  was  this  lulius  at  herte 
And  so  wel  lovede  estaatly  honestee. 
That,  though   his   deedly  woundes   sore 

smerte. 
His  mantel  over  his  hippes  casteth  he. 
For  no  man  sholde  seen  his  privitee.  3905 
And,  as  he  lay  on  deying  in  traunce. 
And  wiste  verraily  that  deed  was  he. 
Of  honestee  yit  hadde  he  remembraunce. 

Lucan,  to  thee  this  storie  I  recomende. 
And  to  Svveton,  and  to  Valerie  also,  3910 
That  of  this  storie  wryten  word  and  ende. 
How  that   to   thise   grete   conqueroures 

two 
Fortune  was  first  freend,  and  sithen  fo. 
No  man  ne  truste  up-on  hir  favour  longe, 
But  have  hir  in  awayt  for  ever-mo.    3915 
Witnesse    on    alle    thise    conqueroures 

stronge. 

Cresus. 

This  riche  Cresus,  whylom  king  of  Tyde, 
Of  whiche  Cresus  Cyrus  sore  him  dradde, 
Yit  was  he  caught  amiddes  al  his  pryde. 
And    to    be    brent   men   to   the   fyr   him 

ladde.  3920 

But  swich  a  reyn  doun  fro  the  welkne 

shadde 
That   slow   the    fyr,   and   made   him   to 

escape ; 
But  to  be  war  no  grace  yet  he  hadde. 
Til   fortune   on   the    galwes    made   him 

gape. 

Whan  he  escaped  was,  he  can  nat  stente 
For  to  biginne  a  newe  werre  agayn.  3926 
He    wende    wel,    for   that    fortune    him 

sente 
Swich  hap,  that  he  escaped  thurgh  the 

rayn. 
That  of  his  foos  he  mighte  nat  be  slayn; 


3930-3981]  PROLOGUE  OF  THE  NONNE   PRESTES  TALE. 


595 


And  eek  a  sweven  ujvon  a  night  he 
mette,  3930 

Of  which  he  was  so  proud  and  eek  so 
fayn, 

That  in  vengeaunce  he  al  his  herte  sette. 

Up-on    a    tree    he    was,    as    that    him 

thougiite, 
Ther  luppiter  him  wesh,  bothe  bak  and 

syde, 
And    Phebus   eek    a   fair    towaille    him 

broughte  3935 

To  drye  liim  with,  and  ther-for  wex  his 

pry do ; 
And  to  his  doghter,  that  stood  him  bisyde, 
Which    that   he   knew   in  heigh   science 

habounde, 
lie  bad  hir  telle  him  what  it  signifyde, 
And    she    his    dreem    bigan    right    thus 

expounde.  394° 

'The  tree,'  quod  she,  'the  galwes  is  to 

mene, 
And  luppiter  bitokneth  snow  and  reyn, 


And  Phebus,  with  his  towaille  so  clene, 
Tho    ben    the    sonne     stremes     for    to 

seyn ; 
Thou    shalt    anhanged    he,    fader,    ccr- 

teyn ;  3945 

Reyn  shal  thee  wasshe,  and  sonne  shal 

thee  drye;  ' 
Thus   warned  she  him   ful   plat   and    ful 

pleyn. 
His    doughter,    which    that    called   was 

Phanye. 

Anhanged  was  Cresus,  the  proude  king, 
His     royal     trone      mighte      him      nat 

availle.  —  395° 

Tragedie  is  noon  other  maner  thing, 
Ne  can  in  singing  crye  ne  biwaille, 
P)Ut  for  that  fortune  alwey  wol  assaille 
With  unwar  strouk  the  regnes  that  ben 

proude; 
For  when  men  trusteth  hir,  than  wol  she 

faille,  3955 

And    covere    hir    brighte    face    with   a 

cloude. 


— ^7—  Explicit  Tragedia. 

Here  stinteth  the  Knight  the  Monk  0/ his  Tale. 


THE   PROLOGUE   OF   THE   NONNE   PRESTES  TALE. 


^ 


The    pi-ologne    of   the    Nonne    Preestes 
Tale. 

'Ho!'  quod  the  knight,  'good  sir,  na- 

more  of  this. 
That  ye  han  seyd  is  right  y-nough,  y-wis, 
And  mochcl  more;    for  litel  hevinesse 
Is    right    y-nough    to    mochel    folk,    I 

gesse.  3960 

I  seye  for  me,  it  is  a  greet  disese 
Wher-as  men  han  ben  in  greet  welthe 

and  ese. 
To  hercn  of  hir  sodeyn  fal,  alias ! 
And  the  contrarie  is  loie  and  greet  solas. 
As  wlian  a  man  hath  been  in  povre  es- 

taat,  3965 

And  clymbeth  up,  and  wexeth  fortunat, 
And  ther  abydeth  in  prosperitee, 
Swich   thing  is  gladsom,  as  it   thinketh 

me, 


And  of  swich  thing  were  goodly  for  to 

telle.' 
'  Ye,'  quod  our  hoste,  '  by  Seint  Poules 

belle,  3970 

Ye    seye    right    sooth;     this    monk,    he 

clappeth  loude. 
He  spak  how  "  fortune  covered  with  a 

cloude  " 
I  noot  never  what,  and  als  of  a  "Trage- 
die " 
Right  now  ye  herde,  and  parde  !  no  rem- 

edie 
It  is  for  to  biwaille,  ne  compleyne     3975 
That  that  is  doon,  and  als  it  is  a  peyne. 
As  ye  han  seyd,  to  here  of  hevinesse. 
Sir  monk,  na-more  of  this,  so  god  yow 

blesse ! 
Your  tale  anoyeth  al  this  companye; 
Swich  talking  is  nat  worth  a  boterllye; 
For  ther-in  is  ther  no  dcsport  ne  game. 


596 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[3982-4036. 


Wherfor,    sir    Monk,  or   dan    Piers    by 

your  name, 
I  preye  yow  hertely,  telle   us   somwhat 

elles, 
For  sikerly,  nere  clinking  of  your  belles, 
That   on   your   brydel    hange   on   every 

syde,  3985 

By  heven  king,  that  for  us  alle  dyde, 
I  sholde  er  this  han  fallen  doun  for  slepe. 
Although  the  slough  had  never  been  so 

depe; 
Than  had  your  tale  al  be  told  in  vayn. 
For  certainly,  as  that  thise  clerkes  seyn, 
"  Wher-as  a  man  may  have  noon  audi- 
ence, 3991 
Noght  helpeth  it  to  tellen  his  sentence." 
And  wel  I  woot  the  substance  is  in  me, 
If  any  thing  shal  wel  reported  be. 
Sir,    sey   somwhat    of    hunting,    I    yow 

preye.'  3995 

'  Nay,'  quod  this  monk,  '  I  have  no  lust 

to  pleye; 
Now  let  another  telle,  as  I  have  told,' 


Than  spak  our  host,  with    rude   speche 

and  bold, 
And    seyde    un-to    the    Nonnes   Freest 

anon, 
'  Com  neer,  thou  preest,  com  hider,  thou 

sir  lohn,  4000 

Tel  us  swich  thing   as  may  our   hertes 

glade. 
Be  blythe,  though   thou   ryde   up-on    a 

lade. 
What  though  thyn  hors  be  bothe  foule 

and  lene, 
If  he  wol  serve  thee,  rekke  nat  a  bene; 
Look  that  thyn  herte  be  mery  evermo.' 
'  Yis,  sir,'  quod  he,  '  yis,  host,  so  mote  I 

go,  4006 

But     I     be    mery,    y-wis,    I     wol     be 

blamed : '  — 
And   right   anon    his  tale   he   hath   at- 

tamed, 
And  thus  he  seyde  un-to  us  everichon. 
This  swete  preest,  this  goodly  man,  sir 

lohn.  4010 


Explicit. 


THE   NONNE   PREESTES  TALE. 


Here    Biginneth     the    Nonne    Preestes 

Tale  of  the  Cok  and  Hen,  Chauft- 

tecleer  and  Pertelote. 

A  povRE  widwe,  somdel  stape  in  age. 
Was  whylom  dwelling  in  a  narwe  cot- 
age, 
Bisyde  a  grove,  stonding  in  a  dale. 
This  widwe,  of  which   I    telle  yow  my 

tale. 
Sin  thilke  day  that  she  was  last  a  wyf. 
In  pacience  ladde  a  ful  simple  lyf,     4016 
For  litel  was  hir  catel  and  hir  rente; 
By   housbondrye,   of    such    as   God   hir 

sente. 
She  fond  hir-self,  and  eek  hir  doghtren 

two. 

Three. large  sowes  hadde  she,  and  namo. 

Three  kyn,  and  eek  a  sheep  that  highte 

Malle.  4021 

Ful   sooty   was   hir   bour,    and   eek    hir 

halle, 


In  which  she   eet  ful  many  a  sclendre 

meel. 
Of  poynaunt  sauce  hir   neded   never   a 

deel. 
No   deyntee   morsel   passed   thurgh    hir 

throte;  4025 

Hir  dyete  was  accordant  to  hir  cote. 
Repleccioun  ne  made  hir  never  syk; 
Attempree  dyete  was  al  hir  phisyk, 
And  exercyse,  and  hertes  suffisaunce. 
The   goute    lette    hir    no-thing    for    to 

daunce,  4030 

Napoplexye  shente  nat  hir  heed; 
No  wyn  ne  drank  she,  neither  whyt  ne 

reed; 
Hir  bord  was  served  most  with  whyt  and 

blak. 
Milk  and  broun  breed,  in  which  she  fond 

no  lak, 
Seynd    bacoun,  and    somtyme  an  ey  or 

tweye,  4^35 

For  she  was  as  it  were  a  maner  deye. 


4037-4107.] 


B.  THE  NONNE  PREESTES  TALE. 


597 


A  yerd  she  hadde,  enclosed  al  al)oute 
Witli  stikkcs,  and  a  drye  dich  with-oute. 
In  which  she  hadde  a  cok,  hight  Chaunte- 

clecT, 
In  all  the  land  of  crowing  nas  his  peer. 
His  vols  was  merier  than  the  mery  er- 
gon 4041 
On  messe-dayes  that  in  the  chirche  gon; 
Wei    sikerer    was    his    crowing    in    his 

Than  is  a  clokke,  or  an  abbey  orlogge. 
IJy  nature  knew  he  ech  ascencioun  4045 
Of  eiiuinoxial  in  thilke  toun; 
For  whan  degrees  liftene  were  ascended, 
Thanne  crew  he,  that  it  mighte  nat  ben 

amended. 
His  comb  was  redder  than  the  fyn  coral. 
And  batailed,  as  it  were  acastel-wal.  4050 
His  bile  was  blak,    and  as  the  leet  it 

shoon; 
Lyk  asur  were  his  legges,  and  his  toon; 
His  navies  whytter  than  the  lilie  flour. 
And  lyk  the  burned  gold  was  his  colour. 
This    gentil    cuk    hadde    in    his  govern- 

aunce  4°55 

Sevene  hennes,  for  to  doon  al  his  ples- 

aunce, 
Whiche  were  his  sustres  and  his  para- 
mours. 
And  wonder  lyk  to  him,  as  of  colours. 
Of  whiche  the  faireste  hewed    on    hir 

throte 
Was  cleped  faire  damoysele  Pertelote. 
Curteys   she    was,  discreet,  and   debon- 

aire,  4061 

And  compaignable,  and  bar  hir-self  so 

faire. 
Sin  thilke  day  that  she  was  seven  night 

old. 
That  trewely  she  hath  the  herte  in  hold 
Of  Chauntecleer  loken  in  every  lith; 
He  loved  hir  so,  that  vvel  was  him  ther- 

with.  4066 

But    such    a    loye  was   it   to   here  hem 

singe. 
Whan    that   the   brighte    sonne   gan    to 

springe. 
In    swete    accord,  '  my  lief   is    faren    in 

londe.' 
For  thilke  tyme,  as  I  have  understonde, 
Bestes    and    briddes    coude    speke    and 

singe.  4071 

And  so  bifel,  that  in  a  daweninge, 


As  ("hauntecleer  among  his  wyves  alle 
Sat  un  his  perche,  that  was  in  the  halle, 
And  next  him  sat  this  faire  Pertelote, 
This    Chauntecleer   gan   gronen    in    his 

throte,  4076 

As  man   that  in   his  dreeni  is  drecched 

sore. 
And  whan  that  Pertelote  thus  herde  him 

rore, 
.She  was  agast,  and  seyde,  '  O  herte  dero. 
What    eyleth    yow,    to    grone    in    this 

man  ere?  4080 

Ye  been  a  verray  sleper,  fy  for  shame ! ' 
And    he     answerde     and     seyde     thus, 

'  madame, 
I  pray  yow,  that  ye  take  it  nat  a-grief : 
By  god,  me  niette  I  was  in  swich  mes- 

chief 
Right  now,  that  yet  myn  herte  is  sore 

afright.  4085 

Now  god,'  quod  he,  '  my  swevene  recche 

aright, 
And  keep  my  body  out  of  foul  prisoun ! 
Me   mette,  how   that    I    romed   up    and 

doun 
Withinne  our  yerde,  wher-as  I  saugh  a 

beste, 
Was  lyk  an  hound,  and  wolde  han  maad 

areste  4090 

Upon  my  body,  and  wolde' han  had  me 

deed. 
His  colour  was  bitwixe  yelwe  and  reed; 
And  tipped  was  his  tail,  and  bothe  his 

eres, 
With   blak,  unlyk   the  remenant   of  his 

heres; 
His   snowte   smal,  with   glowinge    eyen 

tweye.  4095 

Yet  of  his  look  for  fere  almost  I  deye; 
This  caused  me  my  groning,  doutelees.' 
'  Avoy !  '  quod  she,  '  fy  on  yow,  herte- 

lees! 
Alias ! '  quod  she, '  for,  by  that  god  above. 
Now  han  ye  lost  myn  herte  and  al   my 

love;  4100 

I  can  nat  love  a  coward,  by  my  feith. 
P'or  certes,  what  so  any  womman  seith, 
We  alle  desyren,  if  it  mighte  be, 
To    han    housbondes    hardy,    wyse,    and 

free. 
And  secree,  and  no  nigard,  ne  no  fool, 
Ne  him  that  is  agast  of  every  tool,    4106 
Ne  noon  avauntour,  by  that  god  above  ! 


598 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[4108-4187. 


How  dorste  ye  seyn  for  shame  unto  your 

love, 
That  any  thing  mighte  make  yow  aferd? 
Have  ye   no   mannes   herte,  and   han   a 

herd?  41 lo 

Alias!    and    conne    ye    been    agast    of 

svvevenis? 
No-thing,  god  wot,  but  vanitee,  in  sweven 

is. 
Swevcnes  engendren  of  replecciouns, 
And  oftc  of  fume,  and  of  complecciouns, 
Whan  humours  been  to  habundant  in  a 

(•-      wight.  4"  5 

Certes  this  dreem,  which  ye  han  met  to- 
night, 
Cometh  of  the  grete  superfluitee 
Of  youre  rede  colera,  pardee, 
Which  causeth   folk  to  dreden  in  here 

dremes 
Of  arwes,  and  of  fyr  with  rede  lames, 
Of    grete    bestes,   that    they   wol    hem 

byte,  4121 

Of   contek,  and  of   whelpes   grete  and 

lyte ; 
Right  as  the  humour  of  malencolye 
Causeth  ful  many  a  man,  in  sleep,  to  crye, 
For     fere     of     blake     beres,     or     boles 

blake,  4125 

Or  elles,  blake  develes  wule  hem  take. 
Of  othere  humours  coude  I  telle  also. 
That  werken  many  a  man  in  sleep  ful  wo; 
But  I  wol  passe  as  lightly  as  I  can. 

Lo  Catoun,  which  that  was  so  wys  a 

man,  4130 

Seyde    he   nat   thus,  ne  do   no   fors   of 

dremes? 
Now,  sire,'  quod  she,  '  whan  we  flee  fro 

the  hemes, 
For  Goddes  love,  as  tak  som  laxatyf; 
Up  peril  of  my  soule,  and  of  my  lyf, 
I   counseillc   yow   the  beste,  I   wol   nat 

lye,  4135 

That  bothe  of  colere  and  of  malencolye 
Ye  purge  yow;    and  for  ye  shul  nat  tarie. 
Though  in  this  toun  is  noon  apotecarie, 
I  shal  my-3elf  to  herbes  techen  yow. 
That  shul  ben  for  your  hele,  and  for  your 

prow;  4140 

And  in  our  yerd  tho  herbes  shal  I  finde. 
The   whiche    han   of    hir   propretee,  by 

kinde. 
To  purgen  yow  binethe,  and  eek  above. 
Forget  not  this,  for  goddes  owene  love ! 


Ye  been  ful  colerik  of  compleccioun.  4145 

Ware  the  sonne  in  his  ascencioun 

Ne  fynde  yow  nat  repleet  of   humours 

hote; 
And  if  it  do,  I  dar  wel  leye  a  grote. 
That  ye  shul  have  a  fevere  terciane, 
Or  an  agu,  that  may  be  youre  bane.  4150 
A  day  or  two  ye  shul  have  digestyves 
Of  wormes,  er  ye  take  your  laxatyves, 
Of  lauriol,  centaure,  and  fumctere, 
Or  elles  of  ellebor,  that  groweth  there, 
Of  catapuce,  or  of  gaytres  beryis,     4155 
Of  erbe  yve,  growing  in  our  yerd,  that 

mery  is; 
Pekke  hem  up  right  as  they  growe,  and 

ete  hem  in. 
Be  mery,  housbond,  for  your  fader  kin ! 
Dredeth  no  dreem;    I  can  say  yow  na- 

more.' 
*  Madame,'  quod  he,  ' graunt  mercy  of 

your  lore.  4160 

But  nathelees,  as  touching  daun  Catoun, 
That  hath  of  wisdom  such  a  greet  renoun, 
Though   that   he   bad  no  dremes   for  to 

drede. 
By  god,  men  may  in  olde  bokes  rede 
Of  many  a  man,  more  of  auctoritee  4165 
Than  ever  Catoun  was,  so  mote  I  thee, 
Than  al  the  revers  seyn  of  his  sentence, 
And  han  wel  founden  by  experience. 
That  dremes  ben  signiticaciouiis. 
As  wel  of  loye  as  tribulaciouns  4170 

That  folk  enduren  in  this  lyf  present. 
Ther  nedeth  make  of   this  noon  argu- 
ment; 
The  verray  preve  sheweth  it  in  dede. 
Oon   of    the   gretteste    auctours    that 

men  rede 
Seith    thus,    that   whylom    two    felawes 

wente  4^75 

On  pilgrimage,  in  a  ful  good  entente; 
And  happed  so,  thay  come  into  a  toun, 
Wher-as  ther  was  swich  congregacioun 
Of  peple,  and  eek  so  streit  of  herbergage. 
That    they    ne    founde    as    muche    as    o 

cotage,  4 1  So 

In  which  they  bothe  mighte  y-logged  be. 
Wherfor  thay  mosten,  of  necessitee, 
As  for  that  night,  departen  conipaignye; 
And  ech  of  hem  goth  to  his  hostelrye. 
And  took  his  logging  as  it  wolde  falle. 
That  oon  of  hem  was  logged  in  a  stallc, 
Fer  in  a  yerd,  with  oxen  of  the  plough; 


4188-4268.] 


B.    THE   NONNE   PREESTES  TALE 


599 


That  other  man  was  logged  wel  y-nough, 
As  was  his  avcnture,  or  his  fortune, 
That  us  govcrnelh  alle  as  in  commune. 
And   so   bifel,   that,   longe   er   it   were 

day,  4 191 

This  man  nictte  in  his  he<.\,  thcr-as  he  lay. 
How  that  his  felawe  gan  up-on  him  calle, 
And  seyde,  '  alias !  for  in  an  oxes  stalle 
This   night    I   shal   be   mordred   ther   I 

lye.  4195 

Now  help  me,  dere  brother,  er  I  dye; 
In  alle  haste  com  to  me,'  he  sayde. 
This    man    out   of    his    sleep    for    fere 

abrayde; 
But  whan  that  he  was  wakned  of  his 

sleep, 
He   turned   him,  and   took    of   this   no 

keep;  4200 

Him  thoughte  his  dreem  nas  but  a  vanitee. 
Thus  twyes  in  his  sleping  drenied  he. 
And  atte  thridde  tyme  yet  his  felawe 
Cam,  as  him  thoughte,  and  seide,  '  I  am 

now  slawe; 
Bihold    my   blody   woundes,   depe    and 

wyde !  4205 

Arys  up  erly  in  the  morwe-tyde. 
And  at  the  west  gate  of  the  toun,'  quod 

he, 
'  A  carte  ful  of  donge  ther  shaltow  see, 
In  which  my  body  is  hid  ful  prively; 
Do  thilke  carte  aresten  boldely.         4210 
My    gold    caused    my   mordre,   sooth    to 

sayn  ; ' 
And  tolde  him  every  poynt  how  he  was 

slayn, 
With  a  ful  pitous  face,  pale  of  hewe. 
And   truste  wel,  his  dreem  he  fond  ful 

trewe; 
For  on  the  morwe,  as  sone  as  it  was  day. 
To  his  felawes  in  he  took  the  way;   4216 
And  whan  that  he  cam  to  this  oxes  stalle. 
After  his  felawe  he  bigan  to  calle. 

The  hostiler  answered  him  anon, 
And  seyde,  'sire,  your  felawe  is  agon,  4220 
As  sone  as  day  he  wente  out  of  the  t<;un.' 
This  man  gan  fallen  in  suspecioun, 
Remembring  on  his  dremes  that  he  mette. 
And  forth  he  goth,  no  lenger  wolde  he 

lette, 
Unto   the   west   gate    of  the   toun,  and 

fond  4225 

A  dong-carte,  as  it  were  to  donge  lond. 
That  was  arrayed  in  the  same  wyse 


As  ye  han  herd  the  i\ei.]e  man  devyse; 
And  w  ith  an  hardy  hcrte  he  gan  to  crye 
Vcngeaunce    and     lustice    of    tiiis    fel- 

onye: —  4230 

'  My  felawe  mordred  is  this  same  night. 
And  in  this  carte  he  lylh  gapingc  ujjright. 
1  crye  out  on  the  ministres,'  (luod  he, 
''ihat  sholden  kepe  and  reulen  this  citee; 
Harrow!    alias!    her    lyth    my     felawe 

slayn ! '  4235 

What  sholde  I  more  un-to  this  tale  sayn? 
The  peple  out-sterte,  antl  caste  the  cart 

to  grounde. 
And    in    the    middel    of   the    dong  they 

founde 
The  dede  man,  that  mordred  was  al  newe. 
O    blisful    god,  that    art    so    lust    and 

trewe !  4240 

Lo,    how   that    thou   biwreyest    mordre 

alway ! 
Mordre  wol  out,  that  see  we  day  by  day. 
Mordre  is  so  wlatsom  and  abhominable 
To  god,  that  is  so  lust  and  resonaljle. 
That  he  ne  wol  nat  sufire  it  heled  be ;  4245 
Though  it  abyde  a  yeer,  or  two,  or  three, 
Morilre  wol  out,  this  my  conclusioun. 
And  right  anoon,  ministres  of  that  toun 
Han   hent  the  carter,  and  so  sore    him 

pyned. 
And  eek  the  hostiler  so  sore  engyned,  4250 
That    thay    biknewe     hir    wikkednesse 

anoon. 
And  were  an-hanged  by  the  nekke-boon. 
Here  may  men  seen  that  dremes  been 

to  drede. 
And  certes,  in  the  same  book  I  rede, 
Right  in  the  nexte  chapitre  after  this,  4255 
(1  gabbe  nat,  so  have  I  love  or  blis,) 
'Two  men  that  wolde  han  passed  over  see, 
For  certeyn  cause,  in-to  a  fer  contree, 
If  that  the  wind  ne  hadde  been  contrarie, 
That    made    hem    in     a    citee    for    lo 

tarie,  4200 

That  stood  ful  mery  upon  an  haven-syde. 
But  on  a  day,  agayn  the  cven-tyde. 
The  wind  gan  chaunge,  and  blew  right  as 

hem  leste. 
lolif  and  glad  they  wente  un-to  hir  reste. 
And  casten  hem  ful  erly  for  to  saille;  4265 
But  to  that  00  man  fil  a  greet  mervaille. 
That  oon  of  hem,  in  sleping  as  he  lay. 
Him  mette  a  wonder  dreem,  agayn  the 

day; 


6oo 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[4269-4346. 


Ilim  thoughte  a  man  stood  by  his  beddes 

syde. 
And   him   comaunded,   that    he    sholde 

abyde,  4270 

And  seyde  him  thus,  '  if  thou  to-morwe 

wende, 
Thou  shalt  be  dreynt;   my  tale  is  at  an 

ende.' 
He  wook,  and  tolde  his  fclawe  what  he 

mette, 
And  preyde  him  his  viage  for  to  lette; 
As    for    that    day,    he    preyde    him    to 

abyde.  4275 

Ilis  felawe,  that  lay  by  his  beddes  syde, 
Gan  for  to  laughe,  and  scorned  him  ful 

faste. 
'  No  dreem,'  quod  he,  '  may  so  myn  herte 

agaste, 
That  I  wol  lette  for  to  do  my  thinges. 
I  sette  not  a  straw  by  thy  dreminges,  4280 
For  swevenes  been  but  vanitees  and  lapes. 
Men  dreme  al-day  of  owles  or  of  apes, 
And  eke  of  many  a  mase  therwithal; 
Men  dreme  of  thing  that  nevere  was  ne 

shal. 
But   sith    I    see    that    thou   wolt    hear 

abyde,  4285 

And  thus  for-sleuthen  wilfully  thy  tyde, 
God  wot  it  reweth  me;    and  have  good 

day.' 
And  thus  he  took  his  leve,  and  wente  his 

way. 
But  er  that  he   hadde   halfe   his   cours 

y-seyled, 
Noot  I  nat  why,  ne  what  mischaunce  it 

eyled,  4290 

But  casuelly  the  shippes  botme  rente, 
And  ship  and  man  under  the  water  wente 
In  sighte  of  othere  shippes  it  byside. 
That  with  hem  seyled  at  the  same  tyde. 
And  therfor,  faire  Pertelole  so  dere,  4295 
By  swiche  ensamples  olde  maistow  lere, 
That  no  man  sholde  been  to  recchelees 
Of  dremes,  for  I  sey  thee,  doutelees, 
That  many  a  dreem  ful  sore  is  for  to  drede. 
Lo,    in    the   lyf  of    seint    Kenelm,    I 

rede,  4300 

That   was    Kenulphus    sone,   the   noble 

king 
Of   Mercenrike,    how    Kenelm    mette  a 

thing; 
A  lyte  er  he  was  mordred,  on  a  day, 
His  mordre  in  his  avisioun  he  say. 


His  norice  him  expounded  every  del  4305 
His    sweven,  and  bad  him  for    to    kepe 

him  wel 
For  traisoun;    but  he  nas  but  seven  yeer 

old, 
And  therfore  litel  tale  hath  he  told 
Of  any  dreem,  so  holy  was  his  herte. 
By  god,  I  hadde  lever  than  my  sherte  4310 
That  ye  had  rad  his  legende,  as  have  I. 
Dame  Pertelote,  I  sey  yow  trewely, 
Macrobeus,  that  writ  the  avisioun 
In  Affrike  of  the  worthy  Cipioun, 
Affermeth    dremes,  and   seith    that  they 

been  4315 

Warning  of  thinges  that  men  after  seen. 

And  forther-more,  I  pray  yow  loketh 

wel 
In  the  olde  testament,  of  Daniel, 
If  he  held  dremes  any  vanitee. 
Reed   eek  of  loseph,  and  ther  shul  ye 

see  4320 

Wher   dremes   ben  somtyme  (I  sey  nat 

alle) 
Warning  of  thinges  that  shul  after  falle. 
Loke  of  Egipt  the  king,  daun  Pharao, 
His  bakere  and  his  boteler  also, 
Wher    they    ne    felte    noon    effect     in 

dremes.  4325 

Who-so  wol  seken  actes  of  sondry  remes. 

May  rede  of  dremes  many  a  wonder  thing. 

Lo   Cresus,  which   that   was  of  Lyde 

king, 
Mette  he  nat  that  he  sat  upon  a  tree, 
Which    signified    he    sholde    anhanged 

be?  4330 

Lo  heer  Andromacha,  Ectores  wyf. 
That  day  that  Ector  sholde  lese  his  lyf, 
She  dremed  on  the  same  night  biforn. 
How   that   the   lyf  of  Ector  sholde  be 

lorn, 
If  thilke  day  he  wente  in-to  bataille;  4335 
She  warned  him,  but  it  mighte  nat  availle; 
He  wente  for  to  fighte  nathelees. 
But  he  was  slayn  anoon  of  Achilles. 
But  thilke  tale  is  al  to  long  to  telle, 
And  eek  it  is  ny  day,  I  may  nat  dwelle. 
Shortly  I  seye,  as  for  conclusioun,     434I 
That  I  shal  han  of  this  avisioun 
Adversitee;    and  I  seye  forther-more, 
That  I  ne  telle  of  laxatyves  no  store. 
For    they    ben     venimous,    I    woot    it 

wel;  4345 

I  hem  defye,  I  love  hem  never  a  del. 


4347-4426.] 


R.    THE   NONNE   PREESTES  TALE. 


6oi 


Now  let  us  speke  of  inirthc,  and  stiiitc 

al  this; 
Madame  Pertelote,  so  have  I  blis, 
Of  o  thing  god  hath  sent  me  large  grace; 
For   whan    I   see   the    beautee   of  your 

face,  4350 

Ye  ben  so  scarlet-reed  about  your  yen, 
It  maketh  al  my  drede  for  to  dyen; 
For,  also  sikcr  as  In  priiicipio, 
Alulier  est  hominis  coufusio  ;  4354 

Madame,  the  sentence  of  this  Latin  is  — 
Womnian  is  mannes  loye  and  al  his  blis. 
For  whan  I  fele  a-night  your  softe  syde, 
Al-be-it  that  I  may  nat  on  you  ryde, 
For  that  our  perche  is  maad  so  narwe, 

alas ! 
I  am  so  ful  of  loye  and  of  solas         4360 
That  I  defye  liothe  swevcn  and  dreem.' 
And  with  that  word  he  tlcy  doun  fro  the 

beem, 
For  it  was  day,  and  eek  his  hennes  alle; 
And    with  a  chuk    he  gan  hem   for  to 

calle, 
For  he  had  founde  a  corn,  lay  in   the 

yerd.  4365 

Royal  he  was,  he  was  namore  aferd ; 
He  fethered  Pertelote  twenty  tyme. 
And  trad  as  ofte,  er  that  it  was  pryme. 
He  loketh  as  it  were  a  grim  leoun; 
And  on  his  toos  he  rometh  up  and  doun, 
Him    deyned    not    to    sette  his  foot  to 

ground  e.  43  7 1 

He   chukketh,    whan    he   hath    a    corn 

y-founde. 
And  to  him    rennen    thanne  his  wyves 

alle. 
Thus  royal,  as  a  prince  is  in  his  halle, 
Leve  I  this  Chauntecleer  in  his  pasture; 
And  after  wol  I  telle  his  aventure.     4376 
Whan   that   the  month  in  which  the 

world  bigan. 
That  highte  March,  whan  god  first  maked 

man, 
Was  complet,  and  [y]-passed  were  also. 
Sin  March  bigan,  thritty  dayes  and  two, 
Bifel  thar  Chauntecleer,  in  al  his  pryde, 
His  seven  wyves  walking  Ijy  his  syde. 
Caste  up  his  eyen  to  the  Ijrighte  sonne, 
That  in  the  signe  of  Taurus  hadde  y-ronne 
Twenty  degrees  and  oon,  and  somwhat 

more;  4385 

And  knew  by  kynde,  and  by  noon  other 

lore, 


That  it  was  pryme,  and  crew  with   blisful 

stevene. 
f  The  Sonne,'  he  sayde, '  is  clomben  up  on 

hevene 
Fourty  degrees  and  oon,  and  more,  y-wis. 
Madame  Pertelote,  my  wnrldcs  blis, 
Herkneth  thise  blisful   briddcs  how  they 
singe,  439' 

And  see   the  fresshe    floures  how  they 

springe; 
Ful  is  myn  herte  of  revel  and  solas.' 
But  sodeinly  him  lil  a  sorweful  cas; 
For  ever  the  latter  ende  of  loye  is  wo. 
God    woot    that    worldly    loye    is    sone 
ago;  4396 

And  if  a  rethor  coude  faire  endyte. 
He  in  a  cronique  saufly  mighte  it  wryte. 
As  for  a  sovereyn  notabilitee. 
Now  every  wys  man,  lat  him  herkne  me; 
This  storie  is  al-so  trewe,  I  undertake, 
As  is  the  book  of  Launcelot  de  Lake, 
That  wommen  holde  in  ful  gret  rever- 
ence. 
Now  wol  I  tome  agayn  to  my  sentence. 

A  col-fox,  ful  of  sly  iniquitee,         4405 
That  in  the  grove    hadde   woned  yeres 

three. 
By  heigh  imaginacioun  forn-cast, 
The  same  night  thrugh-out  the  hegges 

brast 
Into    the    yerd,    ther   Chauntecleer    the 

faire 
Was  wont,  and    eek    his   wyves,  to  re- 
paire;  44'0 

And  in  a  bed  of  wortes  stille  he  lay, 
Til  it  was  passed  undern  of  the  day, 
Wayting    his    tyme  on    Chauntecleer  to 

falle, 
As  gladly  doon  thise  homicydes  alle, 
That  in  awayt  liggen  to  mordre  men. 
O  false  mordrer,  lurking  in  thy  den  ! 
O  newe  Scariot,  newe  Genilon  !         4417 
False  dissimilour,  O  Greek  Sinon, 
That  broghtest  Troye  al  outrely  to  sorwe  ! 
O  Chauntecleer,  acurscd  be  that  morwe. 
That  thou  into  that  yerd  flough  fro  the 
bemes!  4421 

Thou    were    ful    wel    y-warned    by    thy 

dremcs. 
That  thilke  day  was  perilous  to  thee. 
But  what  that  god  forwoot  mot  nedes  be, 
After  the  ojjinioun  of  certeyn  clerkis. 
Witnesse  on  him,  that  any  perfit  clerk  is, 


6o2 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[4427-4504. 


That  in  scole  is  gret  altercacioun       4426 
In  this  matere,  and  greet  disputisoun, 
And  hath   ben  of  an  hundred  thousand 

men. 
But  I  ne  can  not  bulte  it  to  the  bren, 
As  can  the  holy  doctour  Augustyn,    4431 
Or  Boece,  or  the  bishop  Bradwardyn, 
Whether  that  goddes  worthy  forwiting 
Streyneth  me  nedely  for  to  doon  a  thing, 
(Nedely  clepe  I  simple  necessitee)  ; 
Or  ellcs,  if  free  choys  be  graunted  me 
To  do  that  same  thing,  or  do  it  noght, 
Though   god  forwoot   it,    er  that  it  was 

wroght; 
Or  if  his  witing  streyneth  nevere  a  del 
But  by  necessitee  condicionel.  444° 

I  wol  not  han  to  do  of  swich  matere; 
My  tale  is  of  a  cok,  as  ye  may  here. 
That  took  his  counseil  of  his  wyf,  with 

sorwe, 
To  walken  in  the  yerd  upon  that  morwe 
That  he  had  met  the  dreem,  that  I  yow 

tolde.  4445 

Wommennes     counseils    been    ful     ofte 

colde ; 
Wommannes  counseil  broghte  us  first  to 

wo. 
And  made  Adam  fro  paradys  to  go, 
Ther-as  he  was  ful  mery,  and  wel  at  ese. 
But  for  I  noot,  to   whom  it  mighte   dis- 
pose, 4550 
If  I  counseil  of  wommen  wolde  blame. 
Passe  over,  for  I  seyde  it  in  my  game. 
Rede  auctours,  wher  they  trete  of  swich 

matere. 
And  what  thay  seyn  of  wommen  ye  may 

here. 
Thise   been  the  cokkes  wordes,  and  nat 

myne;  4455 

I  can  noon  harm  of  no  womman  divyne. 

Faire  in  the  sond,  to  bathe  hir  merily, 

Lyth  Pertelote,  and  alle  hir  sustres  by, 

Agayn  the  sonne;   and  Chauntecleer  so 

free 
Song  merier  than  the  mermayde  in  the 

see;  4460 

For  Phisiologus  seith  sikerly. 
How  that  they  singen  wel  and  merily. 
And  so  bifel  that,  as  he  caste  his  ye. 
Among  the  wortes,  on  a  boterflye, 
He  was  war  of  this  fox  that  lay  ful  lowe. 
No-thing    ne    liste    him    thanne    for    to 

crowe,  4466 


But   cryde  anon,   '  cok,   cok,'  and  up  he 

sterte. 
As  man  that  was  affrayed  in  his  herte. 
For  naturelly  a  beest  ilesyreth  flee 
Fro  his  contrarie,  if  he  may  it  see,    4470 
Though    he  never   erst   had  seyn  it  with 

his  ye. 
This  Chauntecleer,  whan  he  gan  him 

espye. 
He  wolde  han  fled,  but  that  the  fox  anon 
Seyde,  '  Gentil  sire,  alias !  wher  wol  ye 

gon? 
Be    ye    affrayed  of    me  that   am    your 

freend?  4475 

Now  certes,  I  were  worse  than  a  feend. 
If  I  to  yow  wolde  harm  or  vileinye. 
I  am  nat  come  your  counseil  for  tespye; 
But  trewely,  the  cause  of  my  cominge 
Was   only   for   to    herkne   how    that  ye 

singe.  4480 

For  trewely  ye  have  as  mery  a  stevene 
As  eny  aungel  hath,  that  is  in  hevene; 
Therwith  ye  han  in  musik  more  felinge 
Than    hadde    Boece,    or   any  that    can 

singe. 
My    lord    your    fader    (god    his    soule 

blesse !)  4485 

And  eek  your  moder,  of  hir  gentilesse, 
Han    in   myn    hous  y-been,    to  my  gret 

ese; 
And  certes,  sire,  ful   fayn  wolde  I  yow 

plese. 
But  for  men  speke  of  singing,  I  wol  saye, 
So  mote  I  brouke  wel  myn  eyen  tweye. 
Save  yow,  I  herde  never  man  so  singe, 
As  dide  your  fader  in  the  morweninge; 
Certes,  it  was  of  herte,  al  that  he  song. 
And    for    to    make    his    voys    the    more 

strong, 
He  wolde  so  peyne  him,  that  with  bothe 

his  yen  4495 

He    moste    winke,    so   loude   he   wolde 

cryen, 
And  stonden  on  his  tiptoon  ther-with-al. 
And  strecche  forth  his  nekke  long  and 

smal. 
And  eek  he  was  of  swich  discrecioun, 
That  ther  nas  no  man  in  no  regioun 
That    him    in    song    or    wisdom    mighte 

passe.  4501 

I  have  wel  rad  in  daun  Burnel  the  Asse, 
Among  his  vers,  how  that  ther  was  a  cok. 
For  that  a  preestes  sone  yaf  him  a  knok 


4505-4576-1 


THE  NONNE  PREESTES  TALE. 


603 


Upon   his  leg,    whyl    he  was  yong  and 

nyce,  45^5 

He  made  him  for  to  lese  his  henefyce. 
But  ccrteyn,  thcr  nis  no  comparisoun 
BitHJx  the  wisdom  anrl  discrecioun 
Of  youre  fader,  and  of  his  subtiltee. 
Now  singeth,  sire,  for  scinte  Charitee, 
Let  see,  conne  ye    your  fader  countre- 

fete  ?  '  45 1 1 

This   Chauntecleer   his   winges   gan    to 

bete, 
As   man    that    coude    his    tresoun    nat 

espye, 
So  was  he  ravisshed  with  his  flaterye. 

Alias !  ye  lordes,  many  a  fals  flatour 
Is  in  your  courtes,  and  many  a  losen- 

geour,  4516 

That  i)lesen  yow  wel  more,  by  my  feith. 
Than  he  that   soothfastnesse    unto   yow 

seith. 
Redeth  Ecclesiaste  of  flaterye; 
Beth  war,  ye  lordes,  of  hir  trecherye.  4520 
This  Chauntecleer  stood  bye  up-on  his 

toos, 
Strecching  his  nekke,  and  heeld  his  eyen 

cloos. 
And  gan  to  crowe  loude  for  the  nones; 
And    daun   Russel    the  fox  sterte   up  at 

ones. 
And  by  the  gargat  hente  Chauntecleer, 
And  on  his  bale  toward  the   wode  him 

beer,  4526 

For  yet  ne  was  ther  no  man  that  him 

sewed. 
O    destinee,   that    mayst    nat   been    es- 
chewed ! 
Alias,   that  Chauntecleer   fleigh   fro  the 

hemes! 
Alias,  his  wyf  ne  roghte  nat  of  dremes  ! 
And    on    a    Friday    fil    al     this     mes- 

chaunce.  453' 

O  Venus,  that  art  goddesse  of  plesaunce. 
Sin  that  thy  servant   was  this  Chaunte- 
cleer, 
And  in  thy  service  dide  al  his  poweer, 
More  for  delyt,  than  world  to  multiplyc. 
Why  woldestow  suffre  him  on  thy  day  to 

dye?  4536 

O  Gaufred,  dere  mayster  soverayn, 
That,  whan  thy  worthy  king  Richard  was 

slayn 
With   shot,  compleynedest   his  deth  so 

sore, 


Why  ne  hadde  I   now  thy  sentence  and 

thy  lore,  4540 

The  Friilay  for  to  chyde,  as  diden  ye? 
(For  on  a  Friday  st)othly  slayn  was  he.) 
Than  wolde    1    shewe   yow    how  that  I 

coude  pleyne 
For   Chauntecleres   dredc,  and    for    his 

peync. 
Certes,  swich  cry  nelamentacioun  4545 
Was  never  of  ladies  maad,  whan  Ilioun 
Was  wonne,  and   Pirrus  with  his  streite 

swerd. 
Whan  he  hadde  hent  king  Priam  by  the 

herd, 
And  slayn  him  (as  saith  us  Eneyaos), 
As  maden  alle  the  hennes  in  the  clos,  4550 
Whan  they  had  seyn  of  Chauntecleer  the 

sighte. 
But  sovereynly  dame  Pertelote  shrighte, 
Ful  louder  than  dide  Hasdrubales  wyf. 
Whan  that  hir  housbond   hadde  lost  his 

lyf. 

And    that    the    Romayns    hadde    brend 

Cartage;  4555 

She  was  so  ful  of  torment  and  of  rage. 
That  wilfully  into  the  fyr  she  sterte, 
And   brende  hir-selven   with   a  stedfast 

herte. 
O  woful  hennes,  right  so  cryden  ye. 
As,  whan  that  Nero  brende  the  citee  4560 
Of  Rome,  cryden  senatoures  wyves. 
For  that  hir  housbondes  losten  alle  hir 

lyves; 
Withouten  gilt  this  Nero  hath  hem  slayn. 
Now  wol  1  torne  to  my  tale  agayn :  — 
This   sely  widwe,  and  eek  hir  doghtres 

two,  4565 

Herden  thise  hennes  cryeandmaken  wo. 
And  out  at  dores  sterten  they  anoon. 
And  syen  the  fox  toward  the  grove  goon. 
And  bar  upon  his  bak  the  cok  away; 
And  cryden,  '  Out !  harrow  !  and  weyla- 

way!  4570 

Ha,   ha,  the    fox !  '  and  after  him  they 

ran. 
And  eek  with  staves  many  another  man ; 
Ran  Colle  our  dogge,  and  Talbot,  and 

Gerland, 
And  Malkin,  with  a  distaf  in  hir  hand; 
Ran  cow   and  calf,  and  eek  the  verray 

hogges  4575 

So  were   they   fered  for   berking  of  the 

dogges 


6o4 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[4577-4636. 


And  shouting  of  the  men  and  wimmen 

eke, 
They  ronne  so,  hem  thoughte  hir  herte 

breke. 
They  yelleden  as  feendes  doon  in  helle; 
The  dokes   cryden  as   men   wolde  hem 

Quelle;  4580 

The  gees  for  fere  flowen  over  the  trees; 
Out  of  the  hyve  cam  the  swarm  of  bees; 
So  hidous  was  the  noyse,  a !  benedicite  ! 
Certes,  he  lakke  Straw,  and  his  meynee, 
Ne  made  never  shoutes  half  so  shrille, 
Whan    that    they   wolden    any    Fleming 

kille,  4586 

As  thilke  day  was  maad  upon  the  fox. 
Of  bras  thay  broghten  hemes,  and  of  box, 
Of  horn,  of  boon,  in  whiche  they  blewe 

and  pouped. 
And  therwithal  thay  shryked    and  they 

houped;  4590 

It  semed  as  that  heven  sholde  falle. 
Now,  gode  men,    I  pray  yow  herkneth 

alle! 
Lo,  how  fortune  turneth  sodeinly 
The  hope  and  pryde  eek  of  hir  enemy ! 
This  cok,  that  lay  upon  the  foxes  bak, 
In    al    his    drede,    un-to     the    fox    he 

spak,  4596 

And  seyde,  'sire,  if  that  I  were  as  ye, 
Yet   sholde   I   seyn  (as   wis   god   helpe 

me), 
Turneth  agayn,  ye  proude  cherles  alle ! 
A  verray  pestilence  up-on  yow  falle  !  4600 
Now  am  I  come  un-to  this  wodes  syde, 
Maugree  your  heed,  the  cok  shal  heer 

abyde; 
I  wol  him  ete  in  feith,  and  that  anon.'  — 
The  fox  answerde,  '  in  feith,  it  shal  be 

don,'  — 
And  as  he  spak  that  word,  al  sodeinly 
This    cok    brak    from    his    mouth    de- 

liverly,  4606 

And  heighe  up-on  a  tree  he  fleigh  anon. 


And   whan  the  fox  saugh  that  he    was 

y-gon, 
'  Alias  !  '    quod    he,    '  O     Chauntecleer, 

alias ! 
I  have   to  yow,'  quod  he,  '  y-doon  tres- 

pas,  4610 

In-as-muche  as  I  maked  yow  aferd, 
Whan  I  yow  hente,  and    broghte  out    of 

the  yerd; 
But,  sire,  I  dide  it  in  no  wikke  entente; 
Com  doun,  and  I  shal  telle  yow  what  I 

mente. 
I  shal  seye  sooth  to  yow,  god  help  me 

so.'  4615 

'  Nay  than,'  quod  he,  '  I  shrewe  us  bothe 

two, 
And  first  I  shrewe  my-self,  bothe  blood 

and  bones, 
If  thou  bigyle  me  ofter  than  ones. 
Thou  shalt  na-more,  thurgh  thy  flaterye, 
Do  me  to  singe  and  winke  with  myn  ye. 
For   he   that   winketh,  whan   he  sholde 

see,  462 1 

Al  wilfully,  god  lat  him  never  thee  ! ' 
'Na,' quod  the  fox,  'but  god  yeve  him 

meschaunce. 
That  is  so  undiscreet  of  governaunce, 
That  langleth  whan  he  sholde  hokle  his 

pees.'  4625 

Lo,  swich  it  is  for  to  be  recchelees. 
And  necligent,  and  truste  on  flaterye. 
But  ye  that  holden  this  tale  a  folye, 
As  of  a  fox,  or  of  a  cok  and  hen, 
Taketh  the  moralitee,  good  men.      4630 
For  seint  Paul  seith,  that  al  that  writen  is. 
To  our  doctryne  it  is  y-write,  y-wis. 
Taketh   the  fruyt,   and  lat  the  chaf  be 

stille. 
Now,  gode  god,  if  that  it  be  thy  wille. 
As  seith  my  lord,  so  make  us  alle  good 

men;  4635 

And  bringe    us    to    his    heighe    blisse. 

Amen. 


Here  is  ended  the  Nonne  Preestes  Tale^ 


4637-4^>52.    1-42.] 


C.    THE   PlIISICIENS  TALE. 


60s 


EPILOGUE   TO   THE   NONNE   PREESTES  TALE. 


'  Sir  Nonnes  Freest,'  uur  hoste  seyde 

anoon, 
'Y-blessed    be    thy   breche,    and    every 

stoon ! 
This  was  a  mery  tale  of  Chauntecleer. 
But,  by  my  trouthe,  if  thou  were  secu- 

ler,  4640 

Thou  woldesl  been  a  trede-foul  a-ri};ht 
For,  if  thou  have  corage  as  thou  hast 

might, 
Thee  were  nede  of  hennes,  as  I  wene, 
Va,  mo  than  seven  tynies  seventene. 


See,   whiche   braunes    hath    this    gentil 

Freest,  4645 

So  greet    a   nckl<e,    and   swich    a   large 

l)reest ! 
lie  loketh  as  a  sperhauk  with  his  yen; 
Him  nedeth  nat  his  colour  for  U>  dyon 
With    brasil,   ne    with   greyn   of   I'ortin- 

gale. 
Now    sire,    faire    falle    yow     for    youre 

tale  !  '  4 ''50 

And  after  that  he,  with  fiil  mery  chcre, 
Seide  to  another,  as  ye  shuUcn  here. 


GROUP  C. 
THE   PHISICIENS  TALE. 


Here  folweth  the  Phisiciens  Tale. 

Ther  was,  as  telleth  Titus  Livius, 
A  knight  that  called  was  Virginius, 
Fulfild  of  honour  and  of  worthinesse. 
And   strong   of  freendes   and    of   greet 

richesse. 
This   knight  a  doghter  hadde    by  his 

wyf,  5 

No  children  hadde  he  mo  in  al  his  lyf. 
Fair  was  this  mayde  in  excellent  beautee 
Aboven  every  wight  that  man  may  see; 
For  nature  hath  with  sovereyn  diligence 
Y-formed  hir  in  so  greet  excellence,      lO 
As  though  she  wolde  seyn,  '  lo !  I,  Na- 
ture, 
Thus  can  I  forme  and  peynte  a  creature. 
Whan  that  me  list;  who  can  me  countre- 

fete  ? 
Figmalion  noght,  though  he  ay  forge  and 

bete. 
Or   grave,    or   peynte;     for    I    dar   wel 

seyn,  15 

Apelles,  Zanzis,  sholde  werche  in  veyn, 
Outher  to  grave  or  peynte  or  forge  or 

bete, 
If  they  presumed  me  to  countrefete. 
For  he  that  is  the  former  principal 
Hath  makcd  me  his  vicaire  general,      20 
To  forme  and  peynten  erthely  creaturis 


Right  as  me  list,  and  ech  thing  in  my 

cure  is 
Under   the   mone,    that   may  wane   and 

waxe. 
And  for  my  werk  right  no-thing  wol    I 

axe; 
My  lord  and  I  ben  ful  of  oon  accord;  25 
I  made  hir  to  the  worship  of  my  lord. 
So  do  I  alle  myne  othere  creatures. 
What    colour    that    they   han,   or   what 

figures.'  — 
Thus  semeth  me  that  Nature  wolde  seye. 
This  mayde  of  age  twelf  yeer  was  and 

tweye,  30 

In  which  that  Nature  hadde  swich  delyt. 
For  right  as  she  can  peynte  a  lilie  whyt 
And  reed  a  rose,  right  with  swich  peyn- 

ture 
She  peynted  hath  this  noble  creature 
Er    she    were    born,    up- on    hir    limes 

free,  35 

Wher-as  by  right  swiche  colours  sholde 

be; 
And  Phebus  dyed  hath  hir  tresses  grete 
Lyk  to  the  stremes  of  his  burned  hete. 
And  if  that  excellent  was  hir  beautee, 
A     thousand- fold     more    vertuous    was 

she.  40 

In  hir  ne  lakked  no  condicioun. 
That  is  to  preyse,  as  by  discrecioun. 


6o6 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[43-122. 


As  wel  in  goost  as  body  chast  was  she; 
For  which  she  floured  in  virginitee 
With  alio  humilitee  and  abstinence,      45 
With  alle  attemperaunce  and  pacience, 
With  mesure  eek  of  bering  and  array. 
Discreet  she  was  in  answering  alway; 
Though  she  were  wys  as  Pallas,   dar  I 

seyn, 
Hir    facound    eek    ful   wommanly    and 

pleyn,  50 

No  countrefeted  termes  hadde  she 
To  seine  wys;  but  after  hir  degree 
She  spak,  and  alle  hir  wordes  more  and 

lesse 
Souninge  in  vertu  and  in  gentillesse. 
Shamfast  she  was  in  maydens  shamfast- 

nesse,  55 

Constant  in  herte,  and  ever  in  bisinesse 
To  dryve  hir  out  of  ydel  slogardye. 
Bacus  hadde  of  hir  mouth  right  no  mais- 

trye; 
For  wyn  and  youthe  doon  Venus  encrece. 
As    men     in     fyr    wol    casten    oile     or 

grece.  60 

And  of  hir  owene  vertu,  unconstreyned, 
She  hath  ful  ofte  tyme  syk  hir  feyned, 
For  that  she  wolde  fleen  the  companye 
Wher  lykly  was  to  treten  of  folye, 
As  is  at  festes,  revels,  and  at  daunces,  65 
That  been  occasions  of  daliaunces. 
Svvich  thinges  maken  children  for  to  be 
To  sone  rype  and  bold,  as  men  may  see, 
Which  is  ful  perilous,  and  hath  ben  yore. 
For  al  to  sone  may  she  lerne  lore  70 

Of  boldnesse,  whan  she  woxen  is  a  wyf. 

And  ye  maistresses  in  your  olde  lyf. 
That     lordes     doghtres     han     in     gov- 

ernaunce, 
Ne    taketh    of    my   wordes    no    disples- 

aunce; 
Thenketh    that   ye    ben   set   in    govern- 

inges  75 

Of  lordes  doghters,  only  for  two  thinges; 
Outher  for  ye  han  kept  your  honestee, 
Or  elles  ye  han  falle  in  freletee, 
And    knowen    wel    y-nough     the     olde 

daunce. 
And    han    forsaken     fully    svvich    mes- 

chaunce  80 

For  evermo;    therfore,  for  Cristes  sake. 
To    teche    hem    vertu    loke    that    ye    ne 

slake. 
A  theef  of  venisoun,  that  hath  forlaft 


His  likerousnesse,  and  al  his  olde  craft, 
Can  kepe  a  forest  best  of  any  man.       85 
Now  kepeth  hem  wel,  for  if  ye  wol,  ye 

can; 
Loke  wel  that  ye  un-to  no  vice  assente, 
Lest  ye  be  dampned  for  your  wikke  en- 
tente; 
For  who-so  doth,  a  traitour  is  certeyn. 
And    taketh    kepe    of  that    that    I    shal 

seyn;  90 

Of  alle  tresons  sovereyn  pestilence 
Is  whan  a  wight  bitrayseth  innocence. 

Ye  fadres  and  ye  modres  eek  also, 
Though  ye  han  children,  be  it  oon  or 

two. 
Your  is  the  charge  of  al  hir  surveyaunce, 
Whyl  that  they  been    under  your  gov- 

ernaunce. 
Beth  war  that  by  ensample  of  your  liv- 

inge,  97 

Or  by  your  necligence  in  chastisinge, 
That  they  ne  perisse;   for  I  dar  wel  seye, 
If  that  they  doon,  ye  shul  it  dere  abeye. 
Under  a  shepherde  softe  and  necligent 
The  wolf  hath  many  a  sheep   and  lamb 

to-rent. 
Suffyseth  oon  ensample  now  as  here, 
For  I  mot  turne  agayn  to  my  matere. 
This  mayde,  of  which  I  wol  this  tale 

expresse,  105 

So  kepte   hir-self,  hir   neded   no   mais- 

tresse; 
For  in  hir  living  maydens  mighten  rede, 
As  in  a  book,  every  good  word  or  dede. 
That  longeth  to  a  mayden  vertuous  ;  109 
She  was  so  prudent  and  so  bountevous. 
For  which  the  fame  out-sprong  on  every 

syde 
Bothe  of  hir  beautee  and   hir  bountee 

wyde  ; 
That  thurgh  that  land  they  preysed  hir 

echone. 
That  loved  vertu,  save  envye  allone, 
That  sory  is  of  other  mennes  wele,       1 15 
And  glad  is  of  his  sorwe  and  his  unhele ; 
(The  doctour  maketh  this  descripcioun). 
This  mayde  up-on  a  day   wente  in    the 

toun 
Toward  a  temple,  with  hir  moder  dere. 
As  is  of  yonge  maydens  the  nianere.    120 
Now  was  ther  thanne  a  lustice  in  that 

toun. 
That  governour  was  of  that  regioun. 


123-201.] 


C.    THE  PHISICIENS  TALE. 


607 


And  so  bifel,  this  luge  his  eyen  caste 
Up-on    this    maytle,    avysinge    him    ful 
faste,  1 24 

As  she  cam  forhy  ther  this  luge  stood. 
Anon  his  herte  chaunged  antl  his  mood, 
So  was  he  caught  with  beautee  of  this 

mayde ; 
And  to  hini-self  ful  prively  he  sayde, 
'  This  mayde  shal  be  myn,  fur  any  man.' 

Anon  the  feend  in-to  his  herte  ran, 
And   taughte  him  sodeynly,  that  he  by 
slighte  131 

The  mayden  to  his  purpos  winne  mighte. 
For  certes,  by  no  force,  ne  by  no  medc, 
Him  thoughte,   he  was  nat  able  for  to 

spede  ; 

For  she  was  strong  of  freendes,  and  eek 

she  135 

Confermed  was  inswich  soverayn  bountee, 

That  wel  he  wiste  he  mighte  hir  never 

winne 
As  for  to  make  hir  with  hir  body  sinne. 
For  which,  by  greet  deliberacioun,      139 
He  sente  after  a  cherl,  was  in  the  toun, 
Which  that  he  knew  for  subtil  and  for 

bold. 
This  luge  un-to  this  cherl  his  tale  hath 

told 
In  secree  wyse,  and  made  him  to  ensure, 
He  sholde  telle  it  to  no  creature,         144 
And  if  he  dide,  he  sholde  lese  his  heed. 
Whan  that  assented  was  this  cursed  reed, 
Glad  was  this  luge  and  maked  him  greet 

chere. 
And  yaf  hym  yiftes  preciouse  and  dere. 
Whan  shapen  was  al  hir  conspiracye 
Fro  point  to  point,  how  that  his  lecherye 
Parfourned  sholde  been  ful  subtilly,     1 51 
As  ye  shul  here  it  after  openly, 
Hoom  gooth  the  cherl,  that  highte  Clau- 
dius. 
This  false  luge  that  highte  Apius,       154 
So  was  his  name,  (for  this  is  no  falile, 
Uut  knowen  for  historial  thing  notable. 
The  sentence  of  it  sooth  is,  out  of  doute). 
This  false  luge  gooth  now  faste  aboute 
T<j  hasten  his  dclyt  al  that  he  may. 
And  so  bifel  sone  after,  on  a  day,         160 
This  false  luge,  as  telleth  us  the  storie, 
.'\s  he  was  wont,  sat  in  his  consistorie. 
And  yaf  his  domes  up-on  sondry  cas. 
This   false   cherl   cam  forth   a   ful    greet 
pas,  1C4 


And  seyde,  '  lord,  if  that  it  be  your  wille, 
As   dooth    me    right    up-on   this   pitous 

bille, 
Tn  which  I  pleyne  up-on  Virginius. 
And  if  that  he  wol  seyn  it  is  nat  thus, 
I  wol  it  preve,  and  finde  good  witnesse. 
That  sooth  is  that  my  bille  wol  expresse.' 
The    luge   answerde,  'of  this,  in   his 
absence,  171 

I  may  nat  yeve  diffinitif  sentence. 
Lat  do  him  calle,  and  I  wol  gladly  here  ; 
Thou  shalt  have  al  right,  and  no  wrong 
here.' 
Virginius  cam,  to  wite  the  luges  wille, 
And    right    anon    was   rad    this  cursed 
bille;  176 

The  sentence  of  it  was  as  ye  shul  here. 

'  To  yow,  my  lord,  sire  Apius  so  dere, 
Sheweth  your  povre  servant  Claudius, 
How  that  a  knight,  called  Virginius,    iSo 
Agayns  the  lawe,  agayn  al  equitee, 
Holdeth,  expres  agayn  the  wil  of  me. 
My  servant,  which   that  is  my  thral  by 

right. 
Which  fro  myn  hous  was  stole  up-on  a 

night, 
Whyl  that  she  was  ful  yong  ;   this  wol  I 
preve  185 

By  witnesse,   lord,   so    that   it   nat  yow 

greve. 
She    nis   his   doghter   nat,   what   so   he 

seye  ; 
Wherfore  to  yow,  my  lord  the   luge,  I 

preye, 
Yeld  me  my  thral,    if  that   it   be   your 

wille.' 

Lo !    this   was    al   the   sentence   of    his 

bille.  190 

Virginius  gan  up-on  the  cherl  biholde, 

But  hastily,  er  he  his  tale  tolde. 

And  wolde  have  preved  it,  as  sholde  a 

knight. 
And  eek  by  witnessing  of  many  a  wight, 
That  it  was  fals  that  seyde  his  adversarie. 
This  cursed  luge  wolde  no-thing  tarie, 
Ne  here  a  word  more  of  Virginius,       197 
But  yaf  his  lugement,  and  seyde  thus: — 
'1   deme   am  in    this  cherl  his   servant 
have  ; 
Thou  shalt  no  lenger  in  thyn  hous  hir 
save.  200 

(jo  bring   hir  fortli,  and  put  hir  in  our 
warde. 


6o8 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[202-275. 


The  cherl   shal    have    his   thral,    this    I 

avvarde.' 
And    whan    this    worthy    knight    Vir- 
ginias, 
Thurgh  sentence  of  this  lustice  Apius, 
Moste  by  force  his  dere  doghter  yiven 
Un-to  the  luge,  in  lecherye  to  Hven,    206 
He  gooth  him  hoom,  and  sette  him  in 

his  halle, 
And  leet  anon  his  dere  doghter  calle. 
And,  with  a  face  deed  as  asshen  colde, 
Upon  hir  humble  face  he  gan  biholde, 
With    fadres    pitee    stiking    thurgh    his 

herte,  211 

Al  wolde  he   from  his  purpos   nat   con- 

verte. 
'  Doghter,'  quod  he,  '  Virginia,  by  thy 

name, 
Ther  been  two  weyes,  outher  deeth  or 

shame, 
That  thou  most  suffre  ;   alias !  that  I  was 

bore!  215 

For  never  thou  deservedest  wherfore 
To  dyen  with  a  swerd  or  with  a  knyf. 
O  dere  doghter,  ender  of  my  lyf. 
Which    I   have   fostred   up  with   swich 

plesaunce, 
That  thou  were  never  out  of  my  remem- 

braunce !  220 

O  doghter,  which  that  art  my  laste  wo, 
And  in  my  lyf  my  laste  loye  also, 
O  gemme  of  chastitee,  in  pacience 
Take  thou  thy  deeth,  for  this  is  my  sen- 
tence. 
For  love  and  nat  for  hate,  thou  most  be 

deed ;  225 

My  pitous  hand  mot  smyten  of  thyn  heed. 
Alias  !   that  ever  Apius  thee  say  ! 
Thus  hath  he  falsly  luged  thee  to-day '  — 
And  tolde  hir  al  the  cas,  as  ye  bifore 
Han    herd  ;     nat  nedeth   for  to   telle  it 

more.  230 

'O mercy,  dere  fader,'  quod  this  mayde, 

And, with  that  word  she  both  hir  armes 

layde 
About  his  nekke,  as  she  was  wont  to  do  : 
The  teres  broste  out  of  hir  eyen  two, 
And  seyde,  '  gode  fader,  shal  I  dye?  235 
Is  ther  no  grace?  is  ther  no  remedye?' 
'  No,  certes,  dere  doghter  myn,'  quod 

he. 
'Thanne   yif  me   leyser,   fader  myn,' 

quod  she, 


'  My    deeth    for    to    compleyne    a    litel 

space; 
For  pardee,  lepte  yaf  his  doghter  grace 
For  to  compleyne,  er  he  hir  slow,  alias ! 
And  god  it  vvoot,  no-thing  was  hir  trespas, 
But  for  she  ran  hir  fader  first  to  see, 
To  welcome  him  with  greet  solempnitee.' 
And   with   that   word   she    fil   aswowne 

anon,  245 

And  after,  whan  hir  swowning  is  agon. 
She  ryseth  up,  and  to  hir  fader  sayde, 
'  Blessed    be    god,    that    I   shal    dye   a 

mayde. 
Yif    me   my   deeth,    er    that    I    have   a 

shame; 
Doth  with  your  child  your  wil,  a  goddes 

name ! '  250 

And  with  that  word  she  preyed  him 

ful  ofte. 
That   with   his  swerd   he   wolde    smyte 

softe, 
And  with  that  word  aswowne  doun  she 

fil. 
Hir  fader,  with   ful  sorweful  herte  and 

wil, 
Hir  heed  of  smoot,  and  by  the  top  it 

hente,  255 

And  to  the  luge  he  gan  it  to  presente, 
As  he  sat  yet  in  doom  in  consistorie. 
And  whan  the  luge  it  saugh,  as  seith  the 

storie. 
He  bad  to  take  him  and  anhange  him 

faste. 
But   right    anon   a    thousand    peple    in 

thraste,  260 

To  save  the  knight,  for  routhe  and  for 

pitee, 
For  knowen  was  the  false  iniquitee. 
The   peple   anon   hath    suspect   of    this 

thing, 
By  manere  of  the  cherles  chalanging. 
That  it  was  by  the  assent  of  Apius;     265 
They  wisten  wel  that  he  was  lecherous. 
For  which  un-to  this  Apius  they  gon, 
And  caste  him  in  a  prison  right  anon, 
Wher-as  he  slowhim-self ;  and  Claudius, 
That  servant  was  un-to  this  Apius,       270 
Was  demed  for  to  hange  upon  a  tree; 
But  that  Virginius,  of  his  pitee. 
So  preyde  for  him  that  he  was  exyled; 
And  elles,  certes,  he  had  been  bigyled. 
The  remenent  were  anhanged,  more  and 

lesse,  275 


276-328.] 


C.     WORDS  OF  THE  HOST. 


609 


That   were    consentant    of    this   cursc<l- 
nesse. — 
Heer  men  may  seen  hi)\v  sinne  hath 
his  meryte ! 
Beth  war,  for  no  man  woot  whom  god 

wol  smyte 
In    no    degree,    ne    in    which     mancr 
wyse 

//ere  endetli  the 


The  worm  of  conscience  may  agryse   2S0 
( )f  wikked  lyf,  though  it  so  privee  be, 
That  no  man  woot  ther-of  hut  god  and  he. 
For  be  he  lewed  man,  or  elles  lered. 
He    noot   how    sone    that   he   shal   Ijeen 

afered. 
Therfore  I  rede  yow  this  conseil  take,   2.S5 
Forsaketh  sinne,  er  sinne  yow  forsake. 
Phisiciens  tale. 


WORDS  OF  THE   HOST. 


The  ivordes  of  the  //ost  to  the  Phisicien 
and  the  Pardoner. 

Our   Hoste   gan   to  swere  as  he  were 

wood, 
'  Harrow  ! '  quod  he,  '  by  nayles  and  by 

blood ! 
This  was  a  fals  cherl  and  a  fals  lustyse ! 
Asshamful  deeth  as  herte  may  devyse  290 
Come  to  thise  luges  and  hir  advocas ! 
Algate  this  sely  mayde  is  slayn,  alias ! 
Alias  !  to  dere  boghte  she  beautee  ! 
Wherfore  I  seye  al  day,  as  men  may  see. 
That  yiftes  of  fortune  or  of  nature        295 
Ben  cause  of  deeth  to  many  a  creature. 
Hir   beautee  was  hir   deeth,   1  dar  wel 

sayn; 
Alias  !  so  pitously  as  she  was  slayn  ! 
Of  bothe  yiftes  that  I  speke  of  now     299 
Men  han  ful  ofte  more  harm  than  prow. 
But  trewely,  myn  owene  mayster  dere. 
This  is  a  pitous  tale  for  to  here. 
But  natheles,  passe  over,  is  no  fors; 
1  prey  to  god,  so  save  thy  gentil  cors. 
And    eek   thyne    urinals   and    thy    lor- 

daiies,  305 

Thyn  Ypocras,  and  eek  thy  Galianes, 
And  every  boist  ful  of  thy  ktuarie; 
God    blesse   hem,   and   our   lady   seinte 

Marie ! 


So  mot  I  theen,  thou  art  a  propre  man. 
And  lyk  a  prelat,  by  seint  Ronyan  !     310 
Seyde  I  nat  wel?     I   can   nat  speke  in 

terme; 
]?ut  wel  I  woot,  thou  doost  my  herte  to 

ermc. 
That  I  almost  have  caught  a  cardiacle. 
By  corpus  hones!   hut  I  have  triacle. 
Or  elles  a  draught  of  moyste  and  corny 

ale,  315 

Or  but  I  here  anon  a  mery  tale, 
Myn  herte  is  lost  for  pitee  of  this  mayde. 
Thou  hcl  amy,  thou  Pardoner,'  he  seyde, 
'Tel  us  som  mirthe  or  lapes  right  anon.' 
'  It    shall   be  doon,'   quod  he,   '  by  seint 

Ronyon !  320 

But   first,'  quod   he,   '  heer   at  this   ale- 
stake 
I  wol  both  drinke,  and  eten  of  a  cake.' 
But  right  anon  thise  gentils  gonne  to 

crye, 
'  Nay  !  lat  him  telle  us  of  no  ribaudye; 
Tel    us  som  moral   thing,  that  we  may 

lere  325 

Som   wit,    and    thanne   wol    we    gladly 

here.' 
'  I  graunte,  y-wis,'  quod  he,  '  hut  I  mot 

thinke 
Up-on   som    honest   thing,   whyl    that   I 

drinke.' 


6io 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[329-389- 


THE  PROLOGUE  OF  THE  PARDONERS  TALE. 


Here  fohveth  (he  Prologe  of  the  Pardoners 
Tale. 

Radix  malorum  est  Cupiditas  :  Ad  Thi- 
motheum,  sexto. 

'  LoRDiNGS,'  quod  he,  '  in  chirches  whan 

I  preche,  ,    .     v; 

I  peyne  me  to  han  an  hauteyn  speche, 
And  ringe  it  out    as  round  as   gooth   a 

belle,  331 

For  I  can  al  by  rote  that  I  telle. 
My  theme  is  alwey  oon,  and  ever  was  — 
"  Radix  maloru?n  est  Cupiditas." 

First    I    pronounce   whennes    that   I 

come,  335 

And   than  my  buUes  shewe  I,  alle  and 

somme. 
Our  lige  lordes  seel  on  my  patente, 
That  shewe  I  first,  my  body  to  warente, 
That  no  man  be  so  bold,  ne   preest  ne 

clerk, 
Me  to  destourbe  of  Cristes  holy  werk; 
And  after    that    than    telle    I    forth    my 

tales,  341 

Bulles  of  popes  and  of  cardinales, 
Of  patriarkes,  and  bishoppes  I  shewe; 
And  in  Latyn  I  speke  a  wordes  fewe, 
To  saffron  with  my  predicacioun,         345 
And  for  to  stire  men  to  devocioun. 
Than    shewe   I   forth   my   longe    cristal 

stones, 
Y-crammed  ful  of  cloutes  and  of  bones; 
Reliks  been  they,  as  wenen  they  echoon. 
Than  have  I  in  latoun  a  sholder-boon 
Which     that    was     of     an    holy    lewes 

shepe.  351 

"  Good  men,"  seye  I,  "  tak  of  my  woriles 

kepe ; 
If    that    this   boon    be   wasshe    in    any 

welle, 
If  cow,  or  calf,  or  sheep,  or  oxe  swelle 
That  any  worm  hath    ete,  or  worm   y- 

stonge,  355 

Tak  water  of  that  welle,  and  wash    his 

tonge. 
And  it  is  hool  anon;   and  forthermore, 
Of  pokkes   and   of   scabl)e,   and   every 

sore 


Shal  every  sheep  be  hool,   that  of  this 

welle 
Drinketh  a  draughte ;  tak  kepe  eek  what 

I  telle  360 

If  that  the   good-man,   that   the   bestes 

oweth, 
Wol  every  wike,  er   that   the   cok    him 

croweth, 
Fastinge,     drinken     of     this     welle     a 

draughte. 
As  thilke  holy  lewe  our  eldres  taughte, 
His  bestes  and  his  stoor  shal  multiplye. 
And,  sirs,  also  it  heleth  lalousye;        366 
For,  though  a   man   be    falle   in   lalous 

rage, 
Let  maken  with  this  water  his  potage, 
And  never  shal  he  more    his   wyf  mis- 

triste, 
Though    he    the   sooth   of    hir   defaute 

wiste;  370 

Al  had  she  taken  pre.estes  two  or  three. 

Heer  is  a  miteyn  eekj'fhat  ye  may  see. 
He  that  his  bond  wol  putte  in  this  mit- 
eyn, 
He  shal  have  multiplying  of  his  greyn, 
Whan   he  hath  sowen,   be  it  whete   or 

otes,  375 

So  that  he  offre  pens,  or  elles  grotes. 
Good    men    and    wommen,    o    thing 

warne  I  yow. 
If  any  wight  be  in  this  chirche  now, 
That  hath  doon  sinne  horrible,  that  he 
Dar  nat,  for  shame,  of  it  y-shriven  be, 
Or  any  womman,  be  she  yong  or  old,  381 
That  hath   y-maad    hir  housbond    coke- 
wold, 
Swich    folk  shul   have  no  power  ne  no 

grace 
To  offren  to  my  reliks  in  this  place. 
And  who-so    findeth    him   out  of  swich 

blame,  3S5 

He   wol   com   up    and    offre   in   goddes 

name. 
And  I  assoille  him  by  the  auctoritee    • 
Which  that  by  bulle  y-graunted  was  to 

me." 
By  this  gaude  have  I  wonne,  yeer  by 

yeer, 


390-462.] 


C.     TRDLOGUE   OF   TIIF.    PAIU)ONERS   TALE. 


611 


An  hundred  mark  sith  I  was  Pardoner. 
I  stomlc  lyU  a  clerk  in  my  pulptt,.       391 
And  whan  the  lewed  peple  is  di)un  y-set, 
I  preche,  so  as  ye  han  herd  hiforc, 
And  telle  an  hundred  false  lapes  more. 
Than  peyne  1   me  to  strecche   forth    the 

nekke,  395 

And    est    and    west    upon    the   peple    I 

bekke, 
As  doth  a  dowve  sitting  on  a  heme. 
Myn    hondes   and   my   tonge    goon    so 

yerne, 
That  it  is  loye  to  see  my  hisinesse. 
Of  avaryce  and  of  swich  curse(hiessc  400 
Is   al    my  preching,   for    to    make    hem 

free 
To  yeve  her  pens,  and  namely  un-to  me. 
For  my  entente  is  nat  but  for  to  winne, 
And  no-thing  for  correccioun  of  sinne. 
I    rekke    never,  whan    that    they    ben 

beried,  405 

Though    that   her  soules  goon   a-blake- 

beried  ! 
For  certes,  many  a  predicacioun 
Comth  ofte  tyme  of  yvel  entcncioun; 
Som  for  plosaunce  of  folk  and  flaterye. 
To  been  avaunced  by  ipocrisye,  410 

And  som  for  veyne  glorie,  and  som  for 

hate. 
For,  whan  I  dar   non    other   weyes   de- 
bate. 
Than   wol    I  stinge   him  with   my  tonge 

smerte 
In  preching,  so  that  he  shal  nat  asterte 
To  been  defamed  falsly,  if  that  he       415 
Hath  trespased  to  my  brethren  or  to  me. 
For,    though    I     telle    noght    his    propre 

name. 
Men  shal  wel  knowe  that  it  is  the  same 
By  signes  and  by  othcre  circumstances. 
Thus  quyte  I  folk  that  doon  us  disples- 

ances;  420 

Thus  spitte  I  out  my  venim  under  hewe 
Of  holynessc,  to  seme  holy  ami  trewe. 

liut  shortly  myn  entente  I  wol  devyse; 
I  preche  of  no-thing  but  for  coveityse. 
Therfor    my    theme    is    yet,    and    ever 

was —  425 


"  Ratfix  nialoritm  est  cupiditas. " 
Thus  can  I  jireche  agayn  that  same  vyce 
Which  that  I  use,  and  that  is  avaryce. 
But,    though    my-self    be   gilty    in   that 

sinne, 
Vet  can  I  maken  other  folk  to  twinne 
From  avaryce,  and  sore  to  re^^ente.     431 
But  that  is  nat  my  principal  entente. 
I  preche  no-thing  but  for  coveityse; 
of  this  matere  it  oughte  y-nogh  suffyse. 
Than   telle    I    hem    ensamples   many 

con  435 

Of  olde  stories,  longe  tyme  agoon  : 
For  lewed  peple  loven  tales  olde; 
Swich  thinges  can  they  wel  reportc  and 

holde. 
What?    trowe    ye,    the   whyles    I    may 

preche, 
And  winne  gold  and  silver  for  I  teche. 
That  I  wol  live  in  povert  wilfully?       44I 
Nay,  nay,  I  thoghte  it  never  trewely ! 
For  I  wol  preche  and  begge  in    si)ndry 

londes; 
I    wol    not    do    no    labour    with     myn 

hondes, 
Ne  make  baskettes,  and  live  thcrliy,   445 
Because  I  wol  nat  beggen  ydelly. 
I  wol  non  of  the  apostles  counterfete; 
I    wol    have    money,  vvolle,  chese,   and 

whete, 
Al  were  it  yeven  of  the  povrest  page. 
Or  of  the  povrest  widwe  in  a  village,  450 
Al  sholde  hir  children  sterve  for  famyne. 
Nay  !   I  wol  drinke  licour  of  the  vyne. 
And  have  a  loly  wenche  in  every  toun. 
But  herkneth,  lordings,  in  conclusioun; 
Yourlyking  is  that  I  shal  telle  a  tale.  455 
Now,  have  I  dronke  a  draughte  of  corny 

ale, 
I^y  god,  I  hope  I  shal  yow  telle  a  thing 
That  shal,  by  resoun,  been  at  your  lyk- 

ing. 
For,  though  myself  be  a  ful  vicious  man, 
A  moral  tale  yet  I  yow  telle  can,  460 

Which    I    am    wont    to    preche,    for    to 

winne. 
Now  holde  your  pees,  my  tale  I  wol  be- 

ginne. 


6l2 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[463-535- 


THE   PARDONERS  TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Pardone>'s  Tale. 

In  Flaundres  whylom  was  a  companye 
Of  yonge  folk,  that  haunteden  folye, 
As  ryot,  hasard,  stewes,  and  tavernes,  465 
Wher-as,  with  harpes,  lutes,  and  giternes, 
They  daunce   and  pleye  at  dees  bothe 

day  and  night, 
And  ete  also  and  drinken  over  hir  might, 
Thurgh     which    they    doon    the    devel 

sacrifyse 
With-in  that  develes   temple,  in  cursed 
wyse,  470 

By  superfluitee  abhominable; 
Hir  othes  been  so  grete  and  so  dampna- 

ble, 
That  it  is  grisly  for  to  here  hem  swere; 
Our  hlissed  lordes  body  they  to-tere; 
Hem  thoughte   lewes  rente  him  noght 
y-nough;  475 

And  ech  of  hem  at  otheres  sinne  lough. 
And  right  anon  than  comen  tombesteres 
Fetys  and  smale,  and  yonge  fruytesteres, 
Singers  with  harpes,  baudes,  wafereres, 
Whiche    been   the    verray   develes   offi- 
ceres  480 

To  kindle  and  blowe  the  fyr  of  lecherye, 
That  is  annexed  un-to  glotonye; 
The  holy  writ  take  I  to  my  witnesse, 
That  luxurie  is  in  wyn  and  dronkenesse. 
Lo,    how    that    dronken    Loth,    un- 
kindely,  485 

Lay  by  his  doghtres  two,  unwitingly; 
So   dronke   he   was,  he    niste   what   he 
wroghte. 
Herodes,     (who-so    wel     the    stories 
soghte), 
Whan  he  of  wyn  was  replet  at  his  feste, 
Right   at    his    owene    table   he   yaf  his 
heste  490 

To  sleen  the  Baptist  lohn  ful  giltelees. 

Senek  seith  eek  a  good  word  doutelees; 
He  seith,  he  can  no  difference  finde 
Bitwix  a  man  that  is  out  of  his  minde 
And  a  man  which  that  is  dronkelewe,  495 
But  that  woodnesse,  y-fallen  in  a  shrewe, 
Persevereth  lenger  than  doth  dronken- 
esse. 


O  glotonye,  ful  of  cursednesse, 

O  cause  first  of  our  confusioun, 

O  original  of  our  dampnacioun,  500 

Til  Crist  had  boght  us  with  his  blood 

agayn ! 
Lo,  how  dere,  shortly  for  to  sayn, 
Aboghl  was  thilke  cursed  vileinye; 
Corrupt  was  al  this  world  for  glotonye ! 

Adam  our  fader,  and  his  wyf  also,   505 
Fro  Paradys  to  labour  and  to  wo 
Were  driven  for  that  vyce.it  is  no  drede; 
For  whyl  that  Adam  fasted,  as  I  rede, 
He  was  in  Paradys;   and  whan  that  he 
Eet  of  the  fruyt  defended  on  the  tree,  510 
Anon  he  was  out-cast  to  wo  and  peyne. 
O  glotonye,  on  thee  wel  oghte  us  pleyne  ! 
O,  wiste  a  man  how  many  maladyes 
Folwen  of  excesse  and  of  glotonyes, 
He  wolde  been  the  more  mesurable    5 '5 
Of  his  diete,  sittinge  at  his  table. 
Alias!    the    shorte    throte,    the    tendre 

mouth, 
Maketh  that.  Est  and  West,  and  North 

and  South, 
In  erthe,  in  eir,  in  water  men  to-swinke 
To   gete   a   glotoun    deyntee   mete   and 

drinke!  520 

Of  this  matere,  o  Paul,  wel  canstow  trete, 
'  Mete    un-to   wombe,   and   wombe   eek 

un-to  mete, 
Shal   god   destroyen    bothe,'    as   Paulus 

seith. 
Alias !  a  foul  thing  is  it,  by  my  feith, 
To   seye   this   word,   and    fouler   is   the 

dede,  525 

Whan  man  so  drinketh  of  the  whyte  and 

rede, 
That  of  his  throte  he  maketh  his  privee, 
Thurgh  thilke  cursed  superfluitee. 

The  apostel  weping  seith  ful  pitously, 
'Ther  walken  many  of  whiche  yow  told 

have  I,  530 

I  seye  it  now  weping  with  pitous  voys. 
That  they  been  enemys  of  Cristes  croys, 
Of  whiche  the  ende  is  deeth,  wombe  is 

her  god.' 
O  wombe  !  O  bely !  O  stinking  cod, 
Fultild  of  donge  and  of  corrupcioun  !  535 


536-6I8.J 


C.    THE   PARDONERS  TALE. 


613 


At  either  ende  of  thee  foul  is  the  soun. 
How  greet   labour  and  cost  is  thee  to 

finde! 
Thise    cokes,    how    they    stainpe,    and 

streyne,  and  grinde, 
And  turnen  suhstauiice  in-to  accident, 
To  fulldle  al  thy  likcrous  talent !  540 

Out  of  the  harde  hones  knokUe  they 
The  niary,  for  they  caste  noght  a-wey 
That  may  go  thurgh  the  golet  softe  and 

swote; 
Of  spiceryc,  of  leef,  and  bark,  and  rote 
Shal  been  his  sauce  y-maked  by  delyt. 
To  make  him  yet  a  newer  appetyt.      546 
But    certes,    he    that     haunteth    swich 

delyces 
Is  deed,  whyl  that  he  liveth  in  tho  vyces. 
A  lecherous  thing  is  wyn,  and  dronk- 

enesse 
Is  ful  of  stryving  and  of  wrecchednesse. 
O  dronke  man,  disfigured  is  thy  face,  551 
Sour  is  thy  breeth,  foul  artow  to  embrace. 
And  thurgh  thy  dronke  nose  semeth  the 

soun 
As  though  thou  seydest  ay  '  Sampsoun, 

Sampsoun '; 
And    yet,   god    wot,    Sampsoun    drank 

never  no  wyn.  555 

Thou  fallest,  as  it  were  a  stiked  swyn; 
Thy  tonge  is  lost,  and  al  thyn   honest 

cure; 
For  dronkenesse  is  verray  sepulture 
Of  mannes  wit  and  his  discrecioun.     559 
In  whom  that  drinke  hath  dominacioun. 
He  can  no  conseil  kepe,  it  is  no  drede. 
Now  kepe  yow  fro  the  whyte  and  fro  the 

rede. 
And  namely  fro  the  whyte  wyn  of  Lepe, 
That  is  to  selle  in  Fish-strcte  or  in  Chepe. 
This  wyn  of  .Spayne  crepeth  subtilly    565 
In  othere  wynes,  growing  faste  by, 
Of  which  ther  ryseth  swich  fumositee. 
That     whan     a     man      hath      dronken 

draughtes  three. 
And   weneth    that   he   be   at   hoom    in 

Chepe, 
He  is  in  Spayne,  right  at  the  toune  of 

Lepe,  570 

Nat  at  the  Rochel,  ne  at  Burdeux  toun; 
And   thanne   wol   he   seye,  '  Sampsoun, 

Sampsoun.' 
But  herkneth,  lordings,  o  word,  I  yow 

preye, 


That  alle  the  sovereyn  actes,  dar  I  seye, 
Of  victories  in  the  olde  testament,       575 
Thurgh  verray  god,  tiiat  is  omnipotent. 
Were  doon  in  abstinence  and  in  preyere; 
Lukcth    the   Bible,  and  ther  ye  may  it 
lere. 
Loke,  Attila,  the  grete  conquerour, 
Deyde  in  his  sleep,  with  shame  and  dis- 
honour, 580 
Bledinge  ay  at  his  nose  in  dronkenesse; 
A  capitayn  shoulde  live  in  sobrenesse. 
And  over  al  this,  avyseth  yow  right  wel 
What  was  comaunded  un-to  Lamuel  — 
Nat  Samuel,  but  Lamuel,  seye  I  —      5S5 
Redeth  the  Bible,  and  finde  it  expresly 
Of  wyn-yeving  to  hem  that  han  lustyse. 
Na-more  of  this,  for  it  may  wel  suffyse. 
And    now    that    I     have    spoke    of 
glotonye, 
Now  wol  I  yow  defenden  hasardrye.   590 
Hasard  is  verray  moder  of  lesinges. 
And  of  deceite,  and  cursed  forsweringes, 
Blaspheme    of  Crist,  manslaughtre,  and 

wast  also 
Of  catel  and  of  tyme;   and  forthermo, 
It  is  repreve  and  contrarie  of  honour  595 
P'or  to  ben  holde  a  commune  hasaniour. 
And  ever  the  hyiir  he  is  of  estaat. 
The  more  is  he  holden  desolaat. 
If  that  a  prince  useth  hasardrye. 
In  alle  governaunce  and  policye  600 

He  is,  as  by  commune  opinioun, 
Y-holde  the  lasse  in  reputacioun. 

Stilbon,  that  was  a  wys  embassadour, 
Was   sent  to  Corinthe,  in  ful  greet  hon- 
our, 604 
Fro  Lacidomie,  to  make  hir  alliaunce. 
And  whan  he   cam,  him  happede,  par 

chaunce, 
That  alle  the  grettest  that  were  of  that 

lond, 
Pleyinge  atte  hasard  he  hem  fond. 
For  which,  as  sone  as  it  mighte  be,     609 
He  stal  him  hoom  agayn  to  his  contree. 
And  seyde, '  ther  wol  I  nat  lese  my  name; 
Ne  I  wol  nat  take  on  me  so  greet  de- 
fame, 
Yow  for  to  allye  un-to  none  hasardours. 
Sendeth  othere  wyse  embassadours;    614 
For,  by  my  trouthe,  me  were  lever  dye, 
Than  1  yow  shokle  to  hasardours  allye. 
For  ye  that  been  so  glorious  in  honours 
Shul  nat  allyen  yow  with  hasardours 


6i4 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[619-690, 


As  by  my  wil,  ne  as  by  my  tretee.' 
This  wyse  philosophre  thus  seyde  he.  620 
Loke  eck  that,  to  tlie  king  Demetrius 
The  king  of  Parthes,  as  the  buuk  seith 

us, 
Sente   him  a  paire  of  dees  of  gold   in 

scorn, 
Kor  he  hadde  used  hasard  ther-biforn; 
I'or  which  he  heeld  his  glorie  or  his  re- 
noun  625 
At  no  value  or  reputacioun. 
Lordes  may  finden  other  maner  pley 
Honeste  y-nough  to  dryve  the  day  awey. 
Now  wol  I  speke  of  othes  false  and 

grete 
A  word  or  two,  as  olde  bokes  trete.    630 
Gret  swering  is  a  thing  abhominable, 
And  false  swering  is  yet  more  reprevable. 
The  heighe  god  forbad  swering  at  al, 
Witnesse  on  Mathew;   but  in  special 
Of  swering  seith  the  holy  leremye,      635 
'  Thou  shalt  seye  sooth  thyn  othes,  and 

nat  lye. 
And  swere  in  dome,  and  eek  in  right- 

wisnesse;  ' 
But  ydel  swering  is  a  cursednesse. 
Bihold  and  see,  that  in  the  firste  table 
Of  heighe  goddes  hestes  horiurable,    640 
How  that  the  seconde  heste  of  him  is 

this  — 
*Tak  nat  my  name  in  ydel  or  amis.' 
Lo,  rather  he  forbedeth  swich  swering 
Than  homicyde  or  many  a  cursed  thing; 
I  seye  that,  as  by  ordre,  thus  it  stond- 

eth ;  645 

This  knowen,  that  his  hestes  understond- 

eth, 
How  that  the  second    heste  of  god  is 

that. 
And   forther   over,    I  wol  thee  telle   al 

plat, 
That  vengeance  shal  nat  parten  from  his 

hous, 
That  of  his  othes  is  to  outrageous.      650 
'  By  goddes  precious  herte,  and    by  his 

nayles. 
And  by  the  blode  of  Crist,  that  it  is  in 

Hayles, 
Seven  is  my  chaunce,  and  thyn  is  cink 

and  treye; 
By  goddes  amies,  if  thou  falsly  pleye, 
This  dagger  shal  thurgh-out   thyn  herte 

go  '  —  655 


This  fruyt  cometh  of  the  bicched  bones 

two, 
Forswering,  ire,  falsnesse,  homicyde. 
Now,  for   the  love   of  Crist  that  for  us 

dyde, 
Leveth    your    othes,    bothe    grete    and 

smale;  659 

But,  sirs,  now  wol  I  telle  forth  my  tale. 

Thise  ryotoures  three,' of  whiche  I  telle, 

Longe  erst  er  pryme  rong  of  any  belle. 

Were  set  hem  in  a  taverne  for  to  drinke; 

And  ^as  they  satte,  they  herde  a  belle 
alinke  664 

Biforn  a  cors,  was  caried  to  his  grave; 

Thatoon  of  hem  gan  callen  to  his  knave, 

'  Go  bet,'  quod  he,  '  and  axe  redily. 

What  cors  is  this  that  passeth  heer  forby; 

And  look  that  thou  reporte   his    name 
wel.' 
'  Sir,'  quod  this  boy,  '  it  nedeth  never- 
a-del,  670 

It  was  me  told,  er   ye   cam    heer,  two 
houres; 

He  was,  pardee,  an  old  felawe  of  youres; 

And  sodeynly  he  was  y-slayn  to-night, 

For-dronke,  as  he  sat  on  his  bench  up- 
right; 

Ther  cam  a  privee  theef,  men   clepeth 
Deeth,  675 

That  in  this  contree  al  the  peple  sleeth. 

And  with  his  spere  he  smoot  his  herte 
a-two. 

And  wente  his  wey  with-outen  wordes 
mo. 

He   hath    a   thousand   slayn   this  pesti- 
lence : 

And,  maister,  er  ye  come  in  his  pres- 
ence, 6S0 

Me  thinketh  that  it  were  necessarie 

For  to  be  war  of  swich  an  adversarie : 

Beth  redy  for  to  mete  him  evermore. 

Thus  taughte   me  my  dame,   I  sey  na- 
more.' 

'  By  seinte  Marie,'  seyde  this  taverner, 

'The  child  seith  sooth,  for  he  hath  slayn 
this  yeer,  686 

Henne  over  a  myle,  with-in  a  greet  vil- 
lage. 

Both  man  and  womman,  child  and  hyne, 
and  page. 

I  trowe  his  haI;itacioun  be  there; 

To  been  avysed  greet  wisdom  it  were. 


69I-759-] 


C.     THE    TARDONEKS    TALK. 


6iS 


Er  that  he  elide  a  man  in  dishonour.'  691 

'  Ye,  guddcs  aimcs,'  (juod  this  ryotour, 
'  Is  it  swicii  peril  with  him  fur  to  incte? 
I  shal  him  sckc  by  wcy  and  cek  by  stretc, 
I  make  a  vow  to  goddes  digne  bones ! 
Herkneth,    felawes,    we    three    been    al 

ones ;  696 

Lat   ech  of  us   hulde  up    his   hond    til 

other, 
And  ech  of  us  bicomen  otheres  brother, 
And   we    wol   sleen    this   false   traytour 

Deeth  ; 
lie  shal  be  slayn,  which  that  so  many 

sleeth,  700 

By  goddes  dignitee,  er  it  be  night.' 
Togidres  han  thise  three  her  trouthes 

plight, 
To  live  and  dyen  ech  of  hem  for  other. 
As  though  he  were  his   owene   y-boren 

brother. 
And  up  they  sterte  al  dronken,  in  this 

rage,  705 

And  forth  they  goon  towardcs  that  vil- 
lage. 
Of  which  the  taverner  had  spoke  biforn. 
And  many  a  grisly  00th  than  han  they 

sworn. 
And  Cristes  blessed  body  they  to-rente  — 
'  Deeth  shal  be  deed,  if  that  they  may 

him  hente.'  710 

Whan  they  han  goon  nat  fully  half  a 

myle. 
Right  as  they  wolde  han  troden  over  a 

style. 
An  old  man  and  a  povre  with  hem  mette. 
This  olde  man  ful  mekely  hem  grette, 
And  seyde  thus,  '  now,  lordes,  god  yow 

see !  '  715 

The  proudest  of  thise  ryotoures  three 
Answerde  agayn,  'what?  carl,  with  sory 

grace. 
Why    artow    al    forwrapped     save     thy 

face? 
Why  livestow  so  longe  in  so  greet  age  ? ' 
This  olde  man   gan   loke  in  his  vis- 
age, 720 
And  seyde  thus,  '  for  I  ne  can  nat  finde 
A  man,  though  that  I  walked  in-to  Inde, 
Neither  in  citee  nor  in  no  village, 
That  wolde  chaunge  his  youthe  for  myn 

age; 
And  therfore  moot  I  han  myn  age  stille, 
As  longe  time  as  it  is  goddes  wille.     726 


Ne  deeth,  alias!  ne  wol  nat  han  my 

lyf; 

Thus  walke  I,  lyk  a  restelees  caityf, 
And  on  the  ground,  which  is  my  modres 

gate, 
I  knokke  with  my  staf,  bothe  erly  and 

late,  730 

And  seye,  "  leve  moder,  leet  me  in  ! 
Lo,  how  I  vanish,  flesh,  and  blood,  and 

skin ! 
Alias !    whan   shul    my   bones    been   at 

reste? 
Moder,  with  yow  wolde  I  chaunge    my 

cheste, 
That  in  my  chambre  longe  tyme   hath 

be,  735 

Ye  !  for  an  heyre  clout  to  wrappe  me !  " 
But  yet  to  me  she  wol  nat  do  that  grace, 
For   which   ful  pale  and  welked  is  my 

face. 
But,  sirs,  to  yow  it  is  no  curteisye 
To  speken  to  an  old  man  vileinye,       740 
But  he  trespasse  in  worde,  or  elles    in 

dede. 
In  holy  writ  ye  may  your-self  wc\  rede, 
"  Agayns   an    old   man,    hour   upon   his 

heed, 
Ye  sholde  aryse;  "  wherfor  I  yeve  yow 

reed, 
Ne  dooth  un-to  an  old  man  noon  harm 

now,  745 

Na-more    than   ye    wolde   men   dide   to 

yow 
In  age,  if  that  ye  so  longe  abyde; 
And  god  be  with  yow,  wher  ye  go  or 

ryde. 
I  moot  go  thider  as  I  have  to  go.' 

'  Nay,  olde  cherl,  by  god,  thou  shalt 

nat  so,'  750 

Seyde  this  other  hasardour  anon; 
'  Thou  partest   nat   so   lightly,  by  seint 

lohn ! 
Thou  spak  right  now  of  thilke  traitour 

Deeth, 
That    in   this    contree   alle   our    frendes 

sleeth. 
Have  heer  my  trouthe,  as  thou  art  his 

aspye,  755 

Tel  wher  he  is,  or  thou  shalt  it  abye, 
By  god,  and  by  the  holy  sacrament ! 
For  soothly  thou  art  oon  of  his  assent, 
To    sleen    us    yonge    folk,    thou     false 

theef! ' 


6i6 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[760-826. 


'  Now,  sirs,'  quod  he,  '  if  that  yow  be 

so  leef  760 

To   finde   Deeth,  turne  up  this   croked 

wey, 
For  in  that  grove  I  lafte  him,  by  my  fey, 
Under  a  tree,  and  ther  he  wol  abyde; 
Nat  for  your  boost  he  wol  him  no-thing 

hyde. 
See  ye  that  ook?  right  ther  ye  shul  him 

finde.  765 

God  save  yow,  that  boghte  agayn  man- 

kinde, 
And    yow   amende  ! '  —  thus   seyde   this 

olde  man. 
And  everich  of  thise  ryotoures  ran. 
Til  he  cam  to  that  tree,  and  ther  they 

founde 
Of  florins  fyne  of  golde  y-coyned  rounde 
Wei    ny    an    eighte    busshels,    as    hem 

thoughte.  771 

No    lenger    thanne    after    Deeth     they 

soughte. 
But  ech  of   hem  so  glad  was   of    that 

sighte. 
For  that  the  florins  been  so  faire  and 

brighte. 
That  doun  they  sette  hem  by  this  pre- 
cious hord.  775 
The  worste  of  hem  he  spake  the  firste 

word. 
'  Brethren,'  quod  he,  '  tak  kepe  what  I 

seye; 
My  wit  is  greet,  though  that  I  bourde 

and  pleye. 
This  tresor  hath  fortune  un-to  us  yiven, 
In  mirthe  and  lolitee  our  lyf  to  liven,  780 
And   lightly   as   it    comth,   so    wol    we 

spende. 
Ey  !  goddes  precious  dignitee  !  who  wende 
To-day,  that  we  sholde  han  so  fair  a  grace  ? 
But  mighte  this  gold  be  caried  fro  this 

place 
Hoom  to  myn  hous,  or  elles  un-to  youres  — 
For  wel  ye  wool    that   al   this   gold    is 

oures  —  786 

Than  were  we  in  heigh  felicitee. 
But  trewely,  by  daye  it  may  nat  be; 
Men   wolde   seyn   that   we  were  theves 

stronge,  789 

And  for  our  owene  tresor  doon  us  honge. 
This  tresor  nioste  y-caried  be  by  nighte 
As  wysly  and  as  slyly  as  it  mighte. 
Wherfore  I  rede  that  cut  among  us  alle 


Be  drawe,  and  lat  se  wher  the  cut  wol 

falle; 
And    he   that  hath   the    cut    with    herte 

blythe  795 

Shal   renne  to  the  toune,  and  that  ful 

swythe, 
And  bringe  us  breed  and  wyn  ful  prively. 
And  two  of  us  shul  kepen  subtilly 
This  tresor  well;   and,  if  he  wol  nat  tarie. 
Whan    it    is    night,   we    wol    this    tresor 

carie  800 

By  oon  assent,  wher-as  us  thinketh  best.' 
That  oon  of  hem  the  cut  broughte  in  his 

fest. 
And  bad  hem  drawe,  and  loke  wher  it 

wol  falle; 
And  it  fil  on  the  yongeste  of  hem  alle; 
And   forth   toward   the   toun   he   wente 

anon.  805 

And  al-so  sone  as  that  he  was  gon. 
That  oon  of  hem  spak  thus  un-to  that 

other, 
'Thou  knowest  wel  thou  art  my  sworne 

brother. 
Thy  profit  wol  I  telle  thee  anon. 
Thou  woost  wel  that  our  felawe  is  agon; 
And    heer   is   gold,   and   that   ful   greet 

plentee,  811 

That  shal  departed  been  among  us  three. 
But  natheles,  if  I  can  shape  it  so 
That  it  departed  were  among  us  two, 
Hadde    I    nat  doon  a  freendes  torn  to 

thee?'  815 

That  other  answerde,  '  I  noot  how  that 

may  be; 
He  woot  how  that  the  gold  is  with  us 

tweye. 
What  shal  we  doon,  what  shal  we  to  him 

seye  ? ' 
'Shal  it  be  conseil?'  seyde  the  firste 

shrewe, 
'  And  I  shal  tellen  thee,  in  wordes  fewe, 
What  we  shal  doon,  and  bringe  it  wel 

aboute.'  821 

'  I  graunte,'  quod  that  other,  '  out  of 

doute, 
That,    by  my    trouthe,    I   wol    thee   nat 

biwreye.' 
'  Now,'  quod    the  firste,   '  thou   woost 

wel  we  be  tweye. 
And    two   of   us  shul  strenger  be  than 

oon.  825 

Look  whan  that  he  is  set,  and  right  anoon 


827-898.] 


C.    THE   rARUOXERS  TALE. 


617 


Arys,  as  though  thou  woldest  with  him 

pleye ; 
And  I  shal  ryve  him  thurgh  the  sydes 

tvveye 
Whyl  that  thou  strogelcst  with  him  as  in 

game, 
And  with  thy  dagger  look  thou  do  the 

same;  830 

And  than  shal  al  this  gold  departed  be, 
My  dere  frecnd,  bitwixen  me  and  thee; 
Than  may  we  bothe  our  lustes  al  fullille, 
And   pleye   at   dees   right   at   our  owene 

wille.' 
And   thus   acorded   been   thise   shrewes 

tweye  835 

To  sleen  the  thridde,  as  ye  han  herd  me 

seye. 
This  yongest,  which  that  wente  un-to 

the  toun, 
Ful  ofte  in  herte  he  rolleth  up  and  doun 
The  beautee  of  thise  florins  newe  and 

brighte. 
'  O  lord  ! '  quod  he,  '  if  so  were  that   I 

mighte  840 

Have  al  this  tresor  to  my-self  allone, 
Ther  is  no  man   that  liveth   under  the 

trone 
Of  god,  that  sholde  live  so  mery  as  I ! ' 
And  atte  laste  the  feend,  our  enemy, 
Putte  in  his  thought  that  he  shold  poyson 

beye,  845 

With  which  he  mighte  sleen  his  felawes 

tweye ;  • 

For-why  the    feend   fond  him  in  swich 

lyvinge, 
That  he  had  leve  him  to  sorwe  bringe, 
For  this  was  outrely  his  fu41e  entente 
To  sleen  hem  bothe,  and  never  to  re- 

pente.  850 

And  forth  he  gooth,  no  lenger  wolde  he 

tarie. 
Into  the  toun,  un-to  a  pothecarie, 
And  preyed  him,  that  he  him  wolde  selle 
Som  poyson,   that  he   mighte  his  rattes 

quelle; 
And  eek  ther  was  a  polcat  in  his  hawe. 
That,  as   he   seyde,   his   capouns    hadde 

y-slawe,  856 

And    fayn    he   wolde   wreke  him,  if  he 

mighte, 
On  vermin,  that  destroyed  him  by  nighte. 
The   pothecarie   answerde,   '  and   thou 

shalt  have 


A  thing  that,  al-so  god  my  soule  save,  860 
In  al  this  world  ther  nis  no  creature. 
That  etc  or  dronke  hath  of  this  confiture 
Noght  but  the  mountance  of  a  corn  of 

whete, 
That  he  ne  shal  his  lyf  anon  forlete; 
Ye,   sterve    he   shal,    and    that   in    lasse 

whyle  865 

Than  thou  wolt  goon  a  paas  nat  but  a 

myle ; 
This  poyson  is  so  strong  and  violent.' 
This   cursed    man    hath    in    his   bond 

y-hent 
This  poyson  in  a  box,  and  sith  he  ran 
In-to  the  nexte  strete,  un-to  a  man,     870 
And  borwed  [of]  him  large  botels  three; 
And  in  the  two  his  poyson  poured  he; 
The    thridde    he    kepte    clene    for    his 

drinke. 
For  al   the  night  he  shoop  him  for  to 

swinke  874 

In  caryinge  of  the  gold  out  of  that  place. 
And  whan  this  ryotour,  with  sory  grace. 
Had  filled  with  wyn  his  grete  hotels  three, 
To  his  felawes  agayn  repaireth  he. 

What  nedeth  it  to  sermone  of  it  more? 
For    right   as   they  had   cast  his   deeth 

bifore,  880 

Right  so   they  han  him  slayn,  and  that 

anon. 
And  whan  that  this  was  doon,  thus  spak 

that  con, 
'  Now  lat  us  sitte  and  drinke,  and  make 

us  merie,  •- 

And  afterward  we  wol  his  body  berie.' 
And  with  that  word  it  happed  him,  par 

cas,  885 

To  take  the  hotel  ther  the  poyson  was. 
And  drank,  and   yaf    his  felawe  drinke 

also. 
For  which  anon  they  storven  bothe  two. 

But,  certes,  I  suppose  that  Avicen 
Wroot  never  in  no  canon,  ne  in  no  fen. 
Mo  wonder  signes  of  empoisoning      891 
Than  hadde  thise  wrecches  two,  er  hir 

ending. 
Thus  ended  been  thise  homicydes  two. 
And  eek  the  false  empoysoner  also. 

O  cursed  sinne,  ful  of  cursednesse  !  895 
O  traytours  homicyde,  o  wikkednesse  ! 
()  glutonye,  luxurie,  and  liasardrye  ! 
Thou  blaspheniour  of  Crist  with  vileinye 


6i8 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[899-968. 


And  othes  grete,  of  usage  and  of  pryde ! 
Alias  !  mankinde,  how  may  it  bityde,  900 
That   to   thy   creatour  which   that   thee 

wroghte, 
And  with  his  precious  herte-blood  thee 

boghte, 
Thou  art  so  fals  and  so  unkinde,  alias ! 
Now,   goode   men,   god    forgeve   yow 

your  trespas. 
And  ware   yow   fro   the   sinne   of    ava- 

ryce.  905 

Myn  holy  pardoun  may  yow  alle  waryce. 
So  that  ye  offre  nobles  or  sterlinges. 
Or  elles  silver  broches,  spones,  ringes. 
Boweth  your  heed  under  this  holy  bulle ! 
Cometh   up,   ye   wyves,    offreth    of  your 

woUe !  910 

Your    name    I   entre   heer   in   my   rolle 

anon; 
In-to  the  blisse  of  hevene  shul  ye  gon; 
I  yow  assoile,  by  myn  heigh  power, 
Yow  that  wol  offre,  as  clene  and  eek  as 

cleer 
As  ye  were    born;   and,  lo,  sirs,  thus   I 

preche.  913 

And  lesu  Crist,  that  is  our  soules  leche. 
So  graunte  yow  his  pardon  lo  receyve; 
For  that  is  best;    I  wol  yow  nat  deceyve. 

But  sirs,  o  word  forgat  I  in  my  tale, 
I    have    relikes    and     pardon     in     my 

male,  920 

As  faire  as  any  man  in  Engelond, 
Whiche  were   me   yeven   by  the   popes 

bond. 
If  any  of  yow  wol,  of  devocioun, 
Offren,  and  ban  myn  absolucioun, 
Cometh   forth    anon,    and    kneleth    heer 

adoun,  925 

And  mekely  receyveth  my  pardoun  : 
Or  elles,  taketh  pardon  as  ye  wende, 
Al  newe  and  fresh,  at  every  tounes  ende, 
So  that  ye  offren  alwey  newe  and  newe 
Nobles  and  pens,  which  that  be  gode  and 

trewe.  930 

It  is  an  honour  to  everich  that  is  heer, 
That  ye  mowe  have  a  suffisant  pardoneer 
Tassoille  yow,  in  contree  as  ye  ryde, 
For  aventures  which  that  may  bityde. 
Peraventure     ther     may    falle    oon     or 

two  935 

Doun  of  his  hors,  and  breke  his  nekke 

atwo. 

Here  is  ended  the 


Look  which  a  seuretee  is  it  to  yow  alle 
That  I  am  in  your  felaweship  y-falle. 
That  may  assoille  yow,  bothe  more  and 

lasse. 
Whan  that  the  soule  shal  fro  the  body 

passe.  940 

I  rede  that  our  hoste  heer  shal  biginne, 
For  he  is  most  envoluped  in  sinne. 
Com  forth,  sir  hoste,  and  offre  first  anon, 
And  thou  shalt  kisse  the  reliks  everichon, 
Ye,    for    a    grote !    unbokel    anon    thy 

purs.'  945 

'  Nay,  nay,'    quod  he,  '  than    have    I 

Cristes  curs ! 
Lat  be,'  quod  he,    '  it   shal   nat   be,   so 

theech ! 
Thou  woldest  make  me  kisse  thyn  old 

breech. 
And  swere  it  were  a  relik  of  a  seint, 
Thogh  it  were  with  thy  fundement  de- 

peint !  950 

But  by  the  croys  which  that  seint  Eleyne 

fond, 
I  wolde  I  hadde  thy  coillons  in  myn  bond 
In  stede  of  relikes  or  of  seintuarie; 
Lat  cutte  hem  of,  I  wol  thee  helpe  hem 

carie; 
They  shul   be    shryned    in    an    hogges 

tord.'  955 

This  pardoner  answerde  nat  a  word; 
So  wrooth  he  was,  no  word  ne  wolde  he 

seye. 
'  Now,'  quod  our  host, '  I  wol  no  lenger 

pleye 
With    thee,  ne  with    noon   other   angry 

man.' 
But     right     anon     the    worthy    knight 

bigan,  960 

Whan  that  he  saugh  that  al   the   peple 

lough, 
'  Na-more  of  this,  for  it  is  right  y-nough; 
Sir    pardoner,    be    glad    and    mery    of 

chere; 
And  ye,  sir  host,  that    been    to   me   so 

dere, 
I    prey    yow    that    ye    kisse    the    par- 
doner. 965 
And  pardoner,  I  prey  thee,  drawe   thee 

neer. 
And,    as  we    diden,   lat    us   laughe  and 

pleye.' 
Anon  they  kiste,  and  riden  forth  hir  weye. 
Pardoners  Tale. 


1-68.] 


D.  THE  WIFE  OE  BATH'S  PROLOGUE. 


619 


GROUP   D. 


THE  WIFE   OF  BATH'S  PROLOGUE. 


The  Prologe  of  the  IVyves  Tale  of  Bathe. 

'  Exi'KKiKNCE,  though  ni)on  auctoritee 
Were  in  this  world,  were  right  y-nough 

to  me 
To  speke  of  wo  that  is  in  mariage; 
For,  lordinges,  sith  I  twelf  yeer  was  of 

age, 
Thonked  be  god  that  is  eterne  on  lyve,  5 
Housbondes  at  chirche-dore  I  have  had 

fyve; 
For  I  so  ofte  have  y- wedded  be; 
And  alle  were  worthy  men  in  hir  degree. 
But  me  was  told  certeyn,  nat  longe  agon 

is, 
That  sith  that  Crist  ne  wente  never  but 

onis  10 

To  wedding  in  the  Cane  of  Galilee, 
That  by  the  same  ensample  taughte  he 

me 
That  I  ne  sholde  wedded  he  but  ones. 
Herke  eek,  lo !   which  a  sharp  word  for 

the  nones 
Besyde  f  welle  lesus,  god  and  man,      15 
Spak  in  repreve  of  the  Samaritan  : 
"Thou    hast   y-had    fyve    housbondes," 

quod  he, 
"  And  thilke  man,  the  which  that  hath 

now  thee, 
Is  noght  thyn  housbond;"  thus  seyde  he 

certeyn; 
What  that  he  mente  ther-by,  I  can  nat 

seyn;  20 

But  that  I  axe,  why  that  the  fifthe  man 
Was  noon  housbond  to  the  Samaritan? 
How  manye  mighte  she  have  in  mariage? 
Yet  herde  I  never  tellen  in  myn  age 
Upon  this  nombre  diffinicioun ;  25 

Men    may   devyne   and   glosen    up    and 

doun. 
But  wel  I  woot  expres,  with-oute  lye, 
God  bad  us  for  to  wexe  and  multiplye; 
That  gentil  text  can  I  wel  understonde. 
Eek  wel    I    woot  he   seyde,  myn    hous- 

bonde  30 

Sholde  Icte  fader  and  moder,  and  take  me; 
15ut  of  no  noinbre  nicncion  made  he. 
Of  hi  gamy  e  or  of  octogamyej 


Why  sholde  men  speke  of  it  vileinye? 
Lo,    here   the    wyse    king,    dan    Salo- 
mon; 35 
I  trowe  he  hadde  wyves  mo  than  con; 
As,  wolde  god,  it  leveful  were  to  me 
To  be  refresshed  half  so  ofte  as  he  ! 
Which  yifte  of  god  hadde  he  for  alle  his 

wyvis ! 
No  man  hath  swich,  that  in  this  worlde 

alyve  is.  40 

God  woot,  this  noble  king,  as  to  my  wit, 
The  firste  night  had  many  a  mery  lit 
With  ech  of  hem,  so  wel  was  him  on 

lyve ! 
Blessed  be  god  that  I  have  wedded  fyve ! 
Welcome    the   sixte,  whan  that  ever  he 

shal.  45 

For  sothe,  I  wol  nat  kepe  me  chast  in 

al; 
Whan  myn  housbond   is   fro   the  world 

y-gon, 
Som  Cristen  man  shal  wedde  me  anon; 
For  thanne  thapostle  seith,  that  I  am  free 
To  wedde,  a  goddes  half,  wher  it  lyketh 

me.  50 

He  seith  that  to  be  wedded  is  no  sinne; 
Bet  is  to  be  wedded  than  to  brinne. 
What    rekketh     me,     thogh     folk   seye 

vileinye 
Of  shrewed  Lameth  and  his  bigamye? 
1  woot  wel  Abraham  was  an  holy  man,  55 
And  Jacob  eek,  as  ferforth  as  I  can; 
And  ech  of  hem  hadde  wyves  mo  than 

two; 
And  many  another  holy  man  also. 
W^han  saugh  ye  ever,  in  any  maner  age. 
That  hye  god  defended  mariage  60 

By  expres  word?    I  pray  you,  telleth  me; 
Or  vk'her  comanded  he  virginitee? 
I  woot  as  wel  as  ye,  it  is  no  drede, 
Thapostel,  whan  he  speketh  of  mayden- 

hede; 
He  seyde,  that  precept  ther-of  hadde  he 
noon.  65 

Men  may  conseille  a  womman  to  been 

oon, 
But  conseilling  is  no  comantlement; 
He  putte  it  in  our  owene  lugcment. 


620 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES, 


[69-148. 


For  hadde  god  comanded  maydenhede, 
Thanne    hadde    he    dampned    wedding 

with  the  dede;  70 

And  certes,  if  ther  were  no  seed  y-sowe, 
Virginitee,  wher-of  than  sholde  it  growe? 
Poul  dorste  nat  comanden  atte  leste 
A  thing  of  which  his  niaister  yaf  noon 

heste. 
The  dart  is  set  up  for  virginitee;  75 

Cacche  who  so  may,  who  renneth   best 

lat  see. 
But   this  word   is  nat   take  of  every 

wight, 
But  ther  as  god  list  give  it  of  his  might. 
I  woot  wel,  that  thapostel  was  a  mayde; 
But  natheless,  thogh  that  he  wroot  and 

sayde,  80 

He  wolde  that  every  wight  were  swich  as 

he, 
Al  nis  but  conseil  to  virginitee; 
And  for  to  been  a  wyf,  he  yaf  me  leve 
Of  indulgence;   so  it  is  no  repreve 
To  wedde  me,  if  that  my  make  dye,      85 
With-oute  excepcioun  of  bigamye. 
Al   were    it   good   no   womman    for   to 

touche. 
He  mente  as  in  his  bed  or  in  his  couche; 
For  peril  is  bothe  fyr  and  tow  tassemble; 
Ye   knowe  what  this  ensample  may  re- 
semble. 9° 
This  is  al  and  som,  he  heeld  virginitee 
More  parfit  than  wedding  in  freletee. 
Freeltee  clepe  I,  but-if  that  he  and  she 
Wolde  leden  al  hir  lyf  in  chastitee. 

I  graunte  it  wel,  I  have  noon  envye,  95 
Thogh  maydenhede  preferre  bigamye; 
Hem  lyketh  to  be  clene,  body  and  goost, 
Of  myn  estaat  I  nil  nat  make  no  boost. 
For  wel  ye  knowe,  a  lord  in  his   hous- 

hold, 
He  hath  nat  every  vessel  al  of  gold;    100 
Somme  been  of  tree,  and  doon  hir  lord 

servyse. 
God  clepeth  folk  to  him  in  sondry  wyse. 
And  everich  hath  of  god  a  propre  yifte, 
Som    this,  som    that, — as   him    lyketh 

shifte. 
Virginitee  is  greet  perfeccioun,         105 
And  continence  eek  with  devocioun. 
But  Crist,  that  of  perfeccioun  is  welle. 
Bad  nat  every  wight  he  sholde  go  selle 
All   that    he  hadde,  and  give  it  to  the 

pore, 


And  in  swich  wyse  folwe  him   and   his 

fore.  1 10 

He  spak  to  hem  that  wolde  live  parfitly; 
And   lordinges,   by   your   leve,  that   am 

nat  I. 
I  wol  bistowe  the  flour  of  al  myn  age 
In  the  actes  and  in  fruit  of  mariage. 

Telle  me  also,  to  what  conclusioun  1 15 
Were  membres  maad  of  generacioun. 
And  for  what  profit  was  a  wight  y-wroght  ? 
Trusteth  right  wel,  they  wer  nat   maad 

for  noght. 
Close  who-so  wole,  and  seye  bothe    up 

and  doun. 
That  they  were  maked  for  purgacioun  120 
Of  urine,  and  our  bothe  thinges  smale 
Were    eek   to   knowe  a  femele  from   a 

male. 
And  for  noon  other  cause :  sey  ye  no  ? 
The  experience  woot  wel  it  is  noght  so; 
So   that   the   clerkes   be    nat   with    me 

wrothe,  125 

I  sey  this,  that  they   maked    been   for 

bothe. 
This  is  to  seye,  for  office,  and  for  ese 
Of  engendrure,  ther  we  nat  god  displese. 
Why  sholde  men  elles  in  hir  bokes  sette, 
That    man   shal   yelde   to    his   wyf    hir 

dette?  130 

Now  wher-with  sholde  he  make  his  paye- 

ment. 
If  he  ne  used  his  sely  instrument? 
Than  were  they  maad  up-on  a  creature. 
To  purge  uryne,  and  eek  for  engendrure. 
But  I  seye  noght  that  every  wight  is 

holde,  135 

That  hath  swich  barneys   as   I    to   yow 

tolde. 
To  goon  and  usen  hem  in  engendrure ; 
Than  sholde  men  take  of  chastitee    no 

cure. 
Crist  was  a  mayde,  and  shapen  as  a  man. 
And   many  a  seint,  sith  that  the  world 

bigan,  140 

Yet  lived  they  ever  in  parfit  chastitee. 
I  nil  envye  no  virginitee; 
Lat  hem  be  breed  of  pured  whete-seed, 
And  lat  us  wyves  hoten  barly-breed; 
And   yet   with   barly-breed,    Mark   telle 

can,  145 

Our  lord  lesu  refresshed  many  a  man. 
In  swich  estaat  as  god  hath  cleped  us 
I  wol  persevere,  I  nam  nat  precious. 


149-222.] 


D.  THE  WIFE  OF  BATH'S  PROLOGUE. 


621 


In  wyfhode  I  wol  use  myn  instrument 
As  frely  as  my  maker  hath  it  sent.       150 
If  I  he  (laungerous,  god  yeve  me   sorwe  ! 
Myn  housbond  shal  it   have    buthe    eve 

and  morwe, 
Whan  that  him  list  com  forth  and  paye 

his  tlette. 
An  housbonde  I  wol  have,  I  nil  nat  lette, 
Wliicli  shal  be  bothe  my  dettour  and  my 

thral  155 

And  have  his  tribulacioun  with-al 
Up-on  his  tlessh,  wliyl  that  I  am  his  wyf. 
I  have  the  power  duringe  al  my  lyf 
Up-on  his  propre  body,  and  noght  he. 
Right    thus    the    apostel    tolde    it    un-to 

me;  160 

And  bad  our  housbondes  for  to  love  us 

weel. 
Al  this  sentence  me  lyketh  every-deel'  — 

Ur  sterte  the  Pardoner,  and  that  anon, 
'Now  dame,'  quod  he,  'by  god  and  by 

seint  lohn, 
Ye  been  a  noble  prechour  in  this  cas ! 
I  was  aboute  to  wedde  a  wyf;  alias !    166 
What  sholde    I    bye   it  on   my  flesh    so 

dere? 
Yet  hadde  I  lever  wedde  no  wyf  to-yere  ! ' 
'  Abyde  ! '   quod  she,   '  my   tale  is   nat 

bigonne; 
Nay,  thou  shalt  drinken  of  another  tonne 
Er   that    I    go,   shal    savoure   wors    than 

ale.  171 

And  whan  that  I  have  told  thee  forth  my 

tale 
Of  tril>ulacioun  in  mariage. 
Of  which  I  am  expert  in  al  myn  age, 
This    to    seyn,    my-self    have    been    the 

whippe;  —  175 

Than  maystow  chese  whether  thou  wolt 

sippe 
Of  thilke  tonne  that  I  shal  abroche. 
lie  war  of  it,  er  thou  to  ny  approche; 
For  I  shal  telle  ensamples  mo  than  ten. 
Who-so  that  nil  be  war  by  othere  men. 
By  him  shul  othere  men  corrected  be. 
The  same  wordes  wryteth  Ptholomee; 
Rede    in    his   Almageste,    and    take    it 

there.' 
'  Dame,  I  wolde  pray  yow,  if  your  wil 

it  were,' 
Seyde  this  Pardoner,  '  as  ye  bigan,       185 
Telle  forth  your  tale,  spareth  for  no  man, 


And  teche  us  yonge  men  of  your  prak- 

tike.' 
'  Oladly,'  quod  she,  '  sith  it  may  yow 

lyke. 
But  yet  I  praye  to  al  this  comjianye, 
If  that  I  speke  after  my  fantasye,  190 

.Vs  taketh  not  a-grief  of  that  I  seye  ; 
For  myn  entente  nis  but  for  to  pleye. 
Now  sires,  now  wol  I  telle  forth  my 

tale.— 
As  ever  mote  I  drinken  wyn  or  ale, 
I  shal  seye  sooth,  tho  housljondcs  that  I 

hadde,  195 

As  three  of  hem  were  gode  and  two  were 

badde. 
The   three  men  were   gode,   and    riche, 

and  olde; 
Unnethe  mighte  they  the  statut  holde 
In  which  they  were  bounden  un-to  me. 
Ye  woot  wel  what  I  mene  of  this,  par- 
dee  !  200 
As  help  me  god,  I  laughe  whan  I  thinke 
How    pitously    a-night     I     made     hem 

swinke ; 
And  by  my  fey,  I  tolde  of  it  no  stoor. 
They  had   me   yeven   hir  gold  and   hir 

tresoor; 
Me  neded  nat  do  lenger  diligence       205 
To  winne  hir  love,  or  doon  hem  rever- 
ence. 
They  loved  me  so  wel,  by  god  above. 
That  I  ne  tolde  no  deyntee  of  hir  love ! 
A  wys  womman  wol  sette  hir  ever  in  oon 
To  gete  hir  love,  ther  as  she  hath  noon. 
But   sith   I   hadde    hem   hooUy  in    myn 

hond,  211 

And  sith  they  hadde  me  yeven  all  hir 

lond. 
What  sholde  I  taken  hede  hem  for  to 

plese, 
But  it  were  for  my  profit  and  myn  ese  ? 
I  sette  hem  so  a-werke,  by  my  fey,      215 
That  many  a  night  they  songen  "  weila- 

wey ! " 
The  bacoun  was  nat  fet  for  hem,  I  trowe. 
That  som  men  han  in   Essex   at   Dun- 

mowe. 
I  governed  hem  so  wel,  after  my  lawe, 
That   ech    of   hem  ful   blisful   was   and 

fawe  220 

To  bringe  me  gaye  thinges  fro  the  fayre. 
They  were  ful  glad  whan  I  spak  to  hem 
fayre; 


622 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[223-299. 


For  god  it  woot,  I  chidde  hem  spitously. 
Now  herkneth,  how  I  bar  me  proprely, 
Ye  wyse  wyves,  that  can  understonde. 
Thus    shul    ye    speke    and    here    hem 

wrong  on  honde;  226 

For  half  so  boldely  can  ther  no  man 
Swere  and  lyen  as  a  womman  can. 
I  sey  nat  this  by  wyves  that  ben  wyse, 
]5ut-if  it  be  whan  they  hem  misavyse.  230 
A  wys  wyf,  if  that  she  can  hir  good, 
Slial    beren    him    on    hond    the    cow    is 

wood. 
And  take  witnesse  of  hir  owene  mayde 
Of  hir  assent;  but  herkneth  how  I  sayde. 

'  Sir  olde  kaynard,  is  this  thyn  array? 
Why  is  my  neighebores  wyf  so  gay?  236 
She  is  honoured  over-al  ther  she  goth; 
I  sitte  at  hoom,  I  have  no  thrifty  cloth. 
What  dostow  at  my  neighebores  hous? 
Is  she  so  fair?  artow  so  amorous?  240 
What   rowneye  with  our   mayde?   bene- 

dicite  ! 
Sir  olde  lechour,  lat  thy  Tapes  be  ! 
And  if  I  have  a  gossib  or  a  freend, 
With-outen  gilt,  thou  chydest  as  a  feend, 
If  that  I  walke  or  pleye  un-to  his  hous  ! 
Thou    comest    hoom    as    dronken   as   a 

mous,  246 

And   prechest  on  thy  bench,  with  yvel 

preef ! 
Thou  seist  to  me,  it  is  a  greet  meschief 
To  wedde  a  povre  womman,  for  costage; 
And  if  that  she  be  riche,  of  heigh  parage. 
Than  seistow  that  it  is  a  tormentrye    251 
To  suffre  hir  pryde  and  hir  malencolye. 
And    if    that   she    be   fair,   thou   verray 

knave,  \il.4-*^ 

Thou   seyst   that    every   holour   wol   hir 

have; 
She  may  no  whyle  in  chastitee  abyde. 
That  is  assailled  up-on  ech  a  syde.      256 
Thou   seyst,   som   folk   desyre    us   for 

rich  esse, 
Somme  for  our  shap,  and  somme  for  our 

fairnesse; 
And  som,  for  she   can  outher  singe  or 

daunce. 
And  som,  for  gentillesse  and  daliaunce; 
Som,    for    hir    handes    and    hir    armes 

smale ;  26 1 

Thus  goth  al  to  the  devel  by  thy  tale. 
Thou  seyst,  men  may  nat  kepe  a  castel- 

wal; 


It  may  so  longe  assailled  been  over-al. 
And  if  that  she  be  foul,  thou  seist  that 

she  265 

Coveiteth  every  man  that  she  may  se; 
For  as  a  spaynel  she  wol  on  him  lepe, 
Til  that  she  finde  som  man  hir  to  chepe; 
Ne  noon  so  grey  goos  goth  ther  in  the 

lake, 
As,   seistow,   that    wol    been    with-oute 

make.  270 

And  seyst,  it  is  an   hard   thing   for   to 

welde 
A  thing  that  no  man  wol,  his  thankes, 

helde.         yi^— '-^ 
Thus  seistow,  lorel,  whan  thow  goost  to 

bedde; 
And    that    no   wys  man   nedeth    for   to 

wedde,  .   274 

Ne  no  man  that  entendeth  un-to  hevene. 
With  wilde  thonder-dint  and  flry  levene 
Mote  thy  welked  nekke  be  to-broke ! 
Thow  seyst  that  dropping  houses,  and 

eek  smoke, 
And  chyding  wyves,  maken  men  to  flee 
Out  of  hir  owene  hous ;  a  !   bcnedicite  ! 
What   eyleth   swich  an   old    man  for   to 

chyde  ?  281 

Thow  seyst,  we  wyves  wol  our  vyces 

hyde 
Til  we  be  fast,  and  than  we  wol   hem 

she  we; 
Wei  may  that  be  a  proverbe  of  a  shrewe  ! 
Thou  seist,  that  oxen,  asses,  hors,  and 

houndes,  285 

They  been  assayed  at  diverse  stoundes; 
Bacins,  lavours,  er  that  men  hem  bye, 
Spones  and   stoles,   and  al  swich   hous- 

bondrye. 
And  so  ]:)een  pottes,  clothes,  and  array; 
But  folk  of  wyves  maken  noon  assay  290 
Til  they  be  wedded;  olde  dotard  shrewe  ! 
And  than,  seistow,  we    wol   oure  vices 

shewe. 
Thou  seist  also,  that  it  displeseth  me 
But-if  that  thou  wolt  preyse  my  beautee, 
And   but  thou   poure    alwey    up-on    my 

face,  295 

And  clepe  me  "  faire   dame "  in   every 

place ; 
And  but  thou  make  a  feste  on  thilke  day 
That  I  was  born,  and  make  me  fresh  and 

gay, 

And  but  thou  do  to  my  norice  honour 


300-372.] 


D.     TIIH    WIFK   f)l'    r.ATII'S    rRUliK'.UE. 


623 


And    to    my  chamberere    with-inne  my 

hour,  300 

And  to  my  fadres  folk  and  his  allycs;  — 
Thus  seistow,  olde  bare!  ful  of  lyes ! 

And  yet  of  our  apprentice  lanekyn, 
For  his  crisp  heer,  shyninge  as  gold  so  fyn, 
And  for  he  squiereth  me  bothe  up  and 

doun,  305 

Yet  hastow  caught  a  fals  suspecioun; 
I  wol  hyni  noght,  thogh  thou  were  deed 

to-morwe. 
But  tel  me   this,  why  hydestow,  with 

sorvve, 
The  keyes  of  thy  cheste  awey  fro  me? 
It  is  my  good  as  vvel  as  thyn,  pardee.  310 
What   wenestow  make  an   idiot   of  our 

dame? 
Now  by  that  lord,  that  called  is  seint  lame, 
Thou  shalt    nat  bothe,  thogh    that  thou 

were  wood, 
Be  maister  of  my  body  and  of  my  good ; 
That  oon  thou  shalt  forgo,  maugree  thyne 

yen;  315 

What  nedeth  thee  of  me  to  enquere  or 

spycn  ? 
I   trowe,  thou  woldest    loke    me    in  thy 

chiste  ! 
Thou  sholdest  seye,  "  wyf,  go  wher  thee 

liste, 
Tak  your  disport,  I  wol  nat  leve  no  talis; 
I    knowe    yow  for   a   trewe    wyf,   dame 

Alis."  320 

We    love    no  man   that  taketh    kepe  or 

charge 
Wher  that  we  goon,  we  wol  ben  at  our 

large. 
r)f  alle  men  y-blessed  moot  he  be. 
The  wyse  astrologien  Dan  Ptholome, 
That    seith    this  proverbe  in    his  Alma- 

geste,  325 

"  Of  alle  men  his  wisdom  is  the  hyeste, 
That  rekketh  never  who  hath  the  world 

in  honde." 
By  this  proverbe  thou  shalt  understondc. 
Have  thou  y-nogh,  what  thar  thee  recche 

or  care 
How  merily  that  othere  folkes  fare?   330 
For  ccrteyn,  olde  dotard,  by  your  leve. 
Ye  shul  have  queynte  right  y-nough  at  eve. 
He  is  to  greet  a  nigard  that  wol  werne 
A  man  to  lighte  his  candle  at  his  laiiterne ; 
He    shal    have    never    the    lasso    liglit, 

pardee;  335 


Have  thou  y-nough,  thee  thar  nat  pleyne 

thee. 
Thou  seyst  also,  that  if  we  make  us  gay 
With  clothing  and  with  precious  array. 
That  it  is  peril  of  our  chastitee; 
And  yet,  with  sorwe,  thou  most  enforce 

thee,  340 

And  seye  thise  wordes  in  the    apostles 

name, 
"  In    habit,    maad    with    chastitee    and 

shame, 
Ye  wommen  shul  apparaille  yow,"  quod 

he, 
"And  noght  in    tressed    heer  and    gay 

perree,  344 

As  perlcs,  ne  with  gold,  ne  clothes  riche;  " 
After  thy  text,  ne  after  thy  rubriche 
I  wol  nat  wirche  as  muchel  as  a  gnat. 
Thou  seydest  this,  that  I  was  lyk  a  cat; 
For  who-so  wolde  senge  a  cattes  skin, 
Thanne  wolde  the  cat  wel  dwellen  in  his 

in;  350 

And  if  the  cattes  skin  be  slyk  and  gay. 
She  wol  nat  dwelle  in  house  half  a  day. 
But  forth  she  wole,  er  any  day  be  dawed. 
To   shewe   hir   skin,  and   goon    a-cater- 

wawed ; 
This  is  to  seye,  if  I  be  gay,  sir  shrewe,  355 
I  wol  renne  out,  my  borel  for  to  shewe. 
Sire    olde    fool,  what  eyleth    thee    to 

spyen? 
Thogh  thou  preye  Argus,  with  his  hun- 
dred yen. 
To  be  my  warde-cors,  as  he  can  best. 
In   feith,  he  shal  nat  kepe  me    but  me 

lest ;  360 

Yet  coude  I  make  his  berd,  so  moot  I 

thee. 
Thou  seydest  eek,  that  therben  thinges 

three, 
The  whiche  thinges  troublen  al  this  erthc. 
And   that  no  wight  ne  may  endure  the 

ferthc; 
O  leve  sir  shrewe,  lesu  shorte  thylyfl  365 
Yet  prechestow,  and  seyst,  an  hateful  wyf 
Y-rekened  is  for  oon  of  thise  meschances. 
Been    ther    none    othere   maner    resem- 
blances 
That  ye  may  lykne  your  parables  to, 
But-if  a  sely  wyf  be  oon  of  tho?  370 

Thou  lykenest  wommanes  love  to  helle, 
To    barcyne    lond,  ther    water    may    not 

dwelle. 


624 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[373-450- 


Thou  lyknest  it  also  to  wilde  fyr; 

The  more  it  brenneth,  the  more  it  hath 

desyr 
To  consume  every  thing  that  brent  wol 

be.  375 

Thou  seyst,  that  right  as  wormes  shende 

a  tree, 
Right  so  a  wyf  destroyeth  hir  housbonde; 
This    knowe   they    that    been    to    wyves 

bonde.' 
Lordinges,  right  thus,  as  ye  have  un- 

derstonde, 
Bar    I  stifly  myne    olde   housbondes  on 

honde,  380 

That  thus  they  seyden  in  hir  dronkenesse ; 
And  al  was  fals,  but  that  I  took  witnesse 
On  lanekin  and  on  my  nece  also. 

0  lord,  the  peyne  I  dide  hem  and  the  wo, 
Ful  giltelees,  by  goddes  swete  pyne !  385 
For  as  an  hors  I  coude  byte  and  whyne. 

1  coude  pleyne,  thogh  I  were  in  the  gilt, 
Or  elles  often  tyme  hadde  I  ben  spilt. 
Who-so  that   first   to   mille   comth,  first 

grint;  389 

I  pleyned  first,  so  was  our  werre  y-stint. 
They  were  ful  glad  to  excusen  hem  ful 

blyve 
Of  thing  of  which  they  never  agilte  hir 

lyve. 
Of  wenches   wolde   I   beren    him  on 

honde, 
Whan  that  for  syk  unnethes  mighte  he 

stonde. 
Yet  tikled  it  his  herte,  for  that  he        395 
Wende   that  I   hadde   of  him  so  greet 

chiertee. 
I  swoor  that  al  my  walkinge  out  by  nighte 
Was  for  tespye  wenches  that  he  dighte; 
Under  that  colour  hadde  I  many  a  mirthe. 
For    al    swich    wit    is   yeven    us    in    our 

birthe;  400 

Deceite,  weping,  spinning  god  hath  yive 
To  wommen  kindely,  whyl  they  may  live. 
And  thus  of  o  thing  I  avaunte  me, 
Atte  ende  I  hadde  the  bettre  in  ech  de- 
gree, 
By  sleighte,  or    force,  or  by  som  maner 

thing,  405 

As  by  continuel  murmur  or  grucching; 
Namely     a-bedde     hadden     they    mes- 

chaunce, 
Ther   wolde    I    chyde    and   do   hem  no 

plesaunce; 


1  wolde  no  lenger  in  the  bed  abyde. 
If  that  1  felte  his  arm  over  my  syile,    410 
Til  he  had  maad  his  raunson  un-to  me; 
Than  wolde  I  suffre  him  do  his  nycetee. 
And  ther-fore  every  man  this  tale  I  telle, 
Winne  who-so  may,  for  al  is  for  to  selle. 
With  empty  hand  men  may  none  haukes 

lure;  415 

Por  winning  wolde  I  al  his  lust  endure, 
And  make  me  a  feyned  appetyt; 
And  yet  in  bacon  hadde  1  never  delyt; 
That  niade  me  that  ever   I  wolde  hem 

chyde. 
For   thogh    the    pope   had    seten    hem 

biside,  420 

I  wolde  nat  spare  hem  at  hir  owene  bord. 
For  by  my  trouthe,  I  quitte  hem  word  for 

word. 
As  help  mc  verray  god  omnipotent, 
Thogh    I    right  now    sholde    make  my 

testament, 
I  ne  owe  hem  nat  a  word  that  it  nis  quit. 
I  broghte  it  so  aboute  by  my  wit,        426 
That  they  moste  yeve  it  up,  as  for  the 

beste ; 
Or  elles  hadde  we  never  been  in  reste. 
For  thogh  he  loked  as  a  wood  leoun, 
Yet  sholde  he  faille  of  his  conclusioun.  430 
Thanne   wolde  I  seye,  '  gode  lief,  tak 

keep 
How  mekely  loketh  Wilkin  cure  sheep; 
Com    neer,  my   spouse,  lat   me   ba   thy 

cheke ! 
Ye  sholde  been  al  pacient  and  meke. 
And  han  a  swete  spyced  conscience.  435 
Sith  ye  so  preche  of  lobes  pacience. 
Suffreth  alwey,  sin  ye  so  wel  can  preche; 
And  but  ye  do,  certein  we  shal  yow  teche 
That  it  is  fair  to  have  a  wyf  in  pees. 
Oon  of  us  two  moste  bowen,  doutelees; 
And  sith  a  man  is  more  resonable       441 
Than  womman  is,  ye  moste  been  suffra- 

ble. 
What  eyleth  yow  to  grucche  thus  and 

grone? 
Is  it  for  ye  wolde  have  my  queynte  allone? 
Why  taak  it  al,  lo,haveit  every-deel;  445 
Peter !  I  shrewe  yow  but  ye  love  it  weel ! 
For  if  I  wolde  selle  my  hele  chose, 
I  coude  walke  as  fresh  as  is  a  rose; 
But  I  wol  kepe  it  for  your  owene  tooth. 
Ye   be   to    blame,    by   god,  I    sey   yow 

sooth.'  450 


451-532.] 


D.     THE   WIFK*0F   BATH'S   PROLOGUE. 


625 


I 


Swiche    maner   wordes  hadde  we  on 

honde. 
Now  wol  1  speken  of  my  fourthe  hous- 

bonde. 
My  fourthe  housbonde  was  a  revelour, 
This  is  to  seyn,  he  hadde  a  paramour; 
And  I  was  yong  and  ful  of  ragerye,    455 
Stiborn  and  strong,  and  loly  as  a  pye. 
Wei  coude  1  daunce  to  an  harpe  smale, 
And  singe,  y-wis,  as  any  nightingale. 
Whan  I  had  dronke  a  draughte  of  swete 

wyn. 
Mctellius,  the  foule  cherl,  theswyn,    460 
That  with  a  staf  birafte  his  wyf  hir  lyf, 
For  slic  drank  wyn,  thogh  I  hadde   Ijeen 

his  wyf. 
He  sholde  nat  han  daunted  me  fro  drinke ; 
And,  after  wyn,  on  Venus  moste  I  thinke  : 
For  al  so  siker  as  cold  engendreth  hayl, 
A  likerous  mouth  moste   han  a  likerous 

tayl.  466 

In  womman  vinolent  is  no  defence, 
This  knowen  lechours  by  experience. 
But,  lord  Crist !  whan  that  it  remem- 

breth  me 
Up-on  my  yowthe,  and  on  my  lolitee,  470 
It  tikleth  me  aboute  myn  herte  rote. 
Unto  this  day  it  dooth  myn  herte  bote 
That  I  have  had  my  world  as  in  my  tyme. 
But  age,  alias !  that  al  wol  envenyme. 
Hath    me   biraft   my    beautee    and    my 

pith;  475 

Lat  go,  fare-wel,  the  devel  go  therwith ! 
The  flour  is  goon,    ther  is    na-more   to 

telle, 
The   bc^ji,  as  I  best  can,  now   moste  I 

selle ; 
But  yet  to  be  right  mery  wol  I  fonde. 
Now  wol    I    tellen  of  my  fourthe  hous- 
bonde. 480 
I  seye,  I  hadde  in  herte  greet  despyt 
That  he  of  any  other  had  delyt. 
But  he  was  quit,  by  god  and  by  seint  loce ! 
I  made  him  of  the  same  wode  acroce; 
Nat  of  my  body  in  no  foul  manere,      485 
But  certeinly,  I  made  folk  swich  chere, 
That   in  his    owene    grece   I  made  him 

frye 
For  angre,  and  for  verray  lalousye. 
By  god,  in  erthe  I  was  his  purgatorie, 
For  which  I  hope  his  soule  i)e  in  glorie. 
For    god    it    woot,    he   sat  ful   ofte    and 

song  4yi 

2S 


Whan   that   his    shoo    ful    bitterly  him 

wrong. 
Ther  was  no  wight,  save  god  and  he,  that 

*    wiste, 
In  many  wyse,  how  sore  I  him  twiste. 
He  deyde  whan  I  cam  fro  lerusalem. 
And  lyth  y-grave  under  the  rode-beem, 
Al  is  his  tombe  noght  so  curious  497 

As  was  the  sepulcre  of  him,  Darius, 
Which  that  Appelles  wroghtc  sublilly; 
It  nis  but  wast  to  burie  him  preciously. 
Lat    him  fare-wel,    god    yeve    his    soule 

reste,  501 

He  is  now  in  the  grave  and  in  his  cheste. 
Now  of  my  fifthe  housbond  wol  I  telle. 
God  lete  his  soule  never  come  in  helle  ! 
And  yet  was  he  to  me  the  moste  shrevve; 
That  fele  I  on  my  ribbes  al  iiy  rewe,  506 
And  ever  shal,  un-to  myn  ending-day. 
But  in  our  bed  he  was  so  fresh  and  gay, 
And    ther-with-al  so  wel  coude    he  me 

glose. 
Whan  that  he  wolde  han  my  beh  chose,  510 
That  thogh   he   hadde  me   bet  on  every 

boon, 
He  coude  winne  agayn  my  love  anoon. 
I  trowe  I  loved  him  beste,  for  that  he 
Was  of  his  love  daungerous  to  me. 
We  wommen  han,  if  that  I  shal  nat  lye, 
In  this  matere  a  queynte  fantasye;       516 
Wayte   what  thing  we  may  nat   lightly 

have, 
Ther-after  wol  we  crye  al-day  and  crave. 
Forbede  us  thing,  and  that  desyren  we; 
Frees  on  us  faste,   and  thanne  wol  we 

flee.  520 

With  daunger  oute  we  al  our  chaffare; 
Greet  prees  at  market  maketh  dere  ware, 
And  to  greet  cheep  is  holde  at  litel  prys; 
This  knoweth  every  womman  that  iswys. 
My  fifthe    housbonde,   god    his   soule 

blesse!  525 

Which    that   I    took     for    love    and    no 

richesse, 
He  som-tyme  was  a  clerk  of  Oxenford, 
And  had  left  scole,  and  wente  at  hoom 

to  bord 
With  my  gossib,  dwellinge  in  oure  toun, 
God  have  hir  soule !  hir  name  was  Ali- 

soun.  530 

She  knew  myn  herte  and  eek  my  privetee 
r.et  than  our  parisshe-preest,  so   moot  I 

thee! 


626 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[533-613- 


To  hir  biwreyed  I  my  conseil  al. 

For  had  myn  housbonde  pissed  on  a  wal, 

Or  doon  a  thing  that  sholde  han  cost  his 

lyf,  5:35 

To  hir,  and  to  another  worthy  wyf, 
And  to  my  nece,  which  that  I  loved  weel, 
I  wolde  han  told  his  conseil  every-deel. 
And  so  I  dide  ful  often,  god  it  woot. 
That  made  his  face  ful  often  reed  and 

hoot  540 

For  verray  shame,  and  blamed  him-self 

for  he 
Had  told  to  me  so  greet  a  privetee. 

And  so  bifel  that  ones,  in  a  Lente, 
(So  often  tymes  I  to  my  gossib  wente, 
For  ever  yet  I  lovede  to  be  gay,  545 

And  for  to  walke,  in  March,  Averille,  and 

May, 
Fro  hous  to  hous,  to  here  sondry  talis), 
That  lankin  clerk,  and  my  gossib  deme 

Alis, 
And  I  my-self,  in-to  the  feldes  wente. 
Myn  housbond  was  at  London  al  that 

Lente;  550 

I  hadde  the  bettre  leyser  for  to  pleye. 
And  for  to  see,  and  eek  for  to  be  seye 
Of  lusty   folk;    what   wiste  I  wher  my 

grace 
Was  shapen  for  to  be,  or  in  what  place? 
Therefore  I  made  my  visitaciouns,       555 
To  vigilies  and  to  processiouns. 
To  preching  eek  and  to  thise  pilgrimages. 
To  pleyes  of  miracles  and  mariages, 
And  wered  upon  my  gaye  scarlet  gytes. 
Thise  wormes,  ne  thise  motthes,  ne  thise 

mytes,  560 

Upon  my  peril,  frete  hem  never  a  deel; 
And  wostow  why?    for   they  were  used 

weel. 
Now  wol  I  tellen  forth  what  happed 

me. 
I  seye,  that  in  the  feeldes  walked  we, 
Til  trewely  we  hadde  swich  daliance,  565 
This  clerk  and  I,  that  of  my  purveyance 
I  spak  to  him,  and  seyde  him,  how  that 

he, 
If  I  were  widwe,  sholde  wedde  me. 
For  certeinly,  I  sey  for  no  bobance. 
Yet  was  I  never  withouten  purveyance 
Of  mariage,  nof  othere  thinges  eek.    571 
I  holde  a  mouses  herte  nat  worth  a  leek. 
That  hath  but  oon  hole  for  to  sterte  to. 
And  if  that  faille,  thanne  is  al  y-do. 


I  bar  him  on  honde,  he  hadde  en- 
chanted me;  575 
My  dame  taughte  me  that  soutiltee. 
And  eek  I  seyde,  Imetteof  him  al  night; 
He  wolde  han  slayn  me  as  I  lay  up-right. 
And  al  my  bed  was  ful  of  verray  blood, 
And  yet  I  hope  that  he  shal  do  me  good; 
For  blood  bitokeneth  gold,  as  me  was 
taught.  581 
And  al  was  fals,   I  dremed  of  it  right 

naught, 
But  as  I  folwed  ay  my  dames  lore. 
As  wel  of  this  as  of  other  thinges  more. 
But  now  sir,  lat  me  see,  what  I   shal 
seyn?  585 

A !  ha !  by  god,  I  have  my  tale  ageyn. 
Whan  that  my  fourthe  housbond  was 
on  here, 
I  weep  algate,  and  made  sory  chere, 
As  wyves  moten,  for  it  is  usage. 
And  with  my  coverchief  covered  my  vis- 
age; 590 
But  for  that  I  was  purveyed  of  a  make, 
I  weep  but  smal,  and  that  I  undertake. 
To  chirche  was  myn  housbond  born 
a-morwe 
With  neighebores,  that  for   him  niaden 

sorwe; 
And  lankin  oure  clerk  was  oon  of  the 
As  help  me  god,  whan  that  I  saugh  him 
go  596 

After  the  bere,  me  thoughte  he  hadde  a 

paire 
Of  legges  and  of  feet  so  clene  and  faire. 
That  al  myn  herte  I  yaf  un-to  his  hold. 
He  was,  I  trowe,  a  twenty  winter  old, 
And  I  was  fourty,  if  I  shal  seye  sooth ; 
But  yet  I  hadde  alwey  a  coltes  tooth. 
Gat-tothed   I  was,   and  that  bicam  me 
weel ;  604 

I  hadde  the  prente  of  seynt  Venus  seel. 
As  help  me  god,  I  was  a  lusty  oon, 
And  faire  and  riche,  and  yong,  and  wel 

bigoon; 
And  trewely,  as  myne  housbondes  tolde 

me, 
I  had  the  beste  quoniam  mighte  be. 
For  certes,  I  am  al  Venerien 
In  felinge,and  myn  herte  is  Marcien.  610 
Venus  me  yaf  my  lust,  my  likerousnesse. 
And  Mars  yaf  me  my  sturdy  hardinesse. 
Myn  ascendent  was  Taur,  and  Mars  ther- 


614-702.] 


I).     THE   WIFK   OF   BATH'S   PROLOCUE. 


627 


Alias  !  alias !  that  ever  love  was  sinne  ! 
I  fohved  ay  myn  inclinaciouu  615 

Hy  vertu  of  my  constellacioun; 
That  made  me  I  coude  noght  withdrawe 
My    cliambre    of    Venus   from   a   good 

felawe. 
Yet  have  I  Martes  mark  up-on  my  face, 
And  also  in  another  privee  place.        620 
For,  god  so  \\  is  be  my  savacioun, 
1  lie  loved  never  by  no  discrecioun 
Hut  ever  foUvede  myn  appetyt, 
Al  were  he   short  or  long,  or   blak    or 

whyt; 
I  took  no  kepe,  so  that  he  lyked  me,  625 
How  jiore  he  was,  ne  eek  of  what  degree. 
What    sholde    I    seye,    but,    at    the 

monthes  ende. 
This  loly  clerk  lankin,  that  was  so  hende, 
Hath  wedded  me  with  greet  solempnitee, 
And  to  him  yaf  I  al  the  lond  and  fee  630 
That  ever  was  me  yeven  ther-bifore; 
But  afterward  repented  me  full  sore. 
He  nolde  suflfre  nothing  of  my  list. 
By  god,  he  smoot  me  ones  on  the  list, 
For  that  I  rente  out  of  his  book  a  leef, 
That  of  the  strook  myn  ere  wex  al  deef. 
Stil)orn  I  was  as  is  a  leonesse,  637 

Antl  of  my  tonge  a  verray  langleresse, 
And  walke  I  wolde,  as  I  had  doon  bi- 

forn. 
From  hous  to  hous,  al-though  he  had  it 

sworn.  640 

For  which  he  often  tymes  wolde  preche, 
And  me  of  olde  Romayn  gestes  teche. 
How    he,    Simplicius    Gallus,    lefte   his 

wyf. 
And  hir  forsook  for  terme  of  al  his  lyf, 
Noght  but  for  open-heeded  he  hir  say 
Lokinge  out  at  his  dore  upon  a  day.  646 
Another  Romayn  tolde  he  me  by  name, 
That,  fur  his  wyf  was  at  a  someres  game 
With-oute  his  witing,  he  forsook  hir  eke. 
And  than  wolcle  he  up-on  his  Bible  seke 
That  ilke  proverbe  of  Ecclesiaste,        651 
Wher  he  comandeth  and  forbedeth  faste, 
Man    shal    nat    suffre    his  wyf  go   roule 

aboute; 
Than  woKle  he  seye  right  thus,  with-outen 

doute, 
"  Who-so  that  buildeth  his  hous  al  of 

salwes,  655 

And  priketh  his  blinde  hors  over  the 

falwes, 


And  suffreth  his  wyf  to  go  seken  halwes. 
Is    worthy    to    been    lianged     on    the 

galwes  !  " 
But  al  for  noght,  I  sette  nught  an  hawe 
Of  his  proverbes  nof  his  ol<le  sawe,     660 
Ne  I  wolde  nat  of  him  corrected  be. 
I  hate  him  that  my  vices  telleth  me, 
And  so  do  mo,  god  woot !    of  us  than  I. 
Thus  made  him  with  me  wooil  al  outrcly; 
I  nolde  noght  forbere  him  in  no  cas.  6()5 
Now  wol   I  seye  yow  sooth,  by  scint 

Thomas, 
Why  that  1  rente  out  of  his  book  a  leef, 
For  which  he  smoot  me  so  that   I  was 

deef. 
He  hadde  a  book  that  gladly,  night 

and  day, 
For  his  desport  he  wolde  rede  aUvay.  670 
He  cleped  it  Valerie  and  Theofraste, 
At   whiche    book    he    lough    alwey   ful 

faste. 
And  eek  ther  was  som-tyme  a  clerk  at 

Rome, 
A  cardinal,  that  highte  Seint  lerome, 
That  made  a  book  agayn  lovinian;      675 
In  whiche  book  eek  ther  was  Tertulan, 
Crisippus,  Trotula,  and  Helowys, 
That  was  abbesse  nat  fer  fro  Parys; 
And  eek  the  Parables  of  Salomon, 
Ovydes  Art,  and  bokes  many  on,  680 

And  alle  thise  wer  bounden  in  o  volume. 
And  every  night  and  day  was  his  custume, 
Whan  he  had  leyser  and  vacacioun 
From  other  worldly  occupacioun,         684 
To  reden  on  this  book  of  wikked  wyves. 
He  knew  of  hem  m.o  legendes  and  lyves 
Than  been  of  gode  wyves  in  the  Bible. 
F"or  trusteth  wel,  it  is  an  impossible 
That  any  clerk  wol  speke  good  of  wyves, 
But-if  it  be  of  holy  seintes  lyves,  690 

Ne  of  noon  other  womman  never  the  mo. 
Who  peyntede  the  leoun,  tel  me  who? 
By  god,  if  wommen  hadde  writen  stories, 
As  clerkes  han  with-inne  hir  oratories. 
They  wolde  han  writen  of  men  more  wik- 

kednesse  695 

Than  all  the  mark  of  Adam  may  redresse. 
The  children  of  Mercuric  and  of  Venus 
Been  in  hir  wirking  ful  contrarious; 
Mercuric  loveth  wisdom  and  science. 
And  Venus  loveth  ryot  and  dispence.  700 
And,  for  hir  diverse  dispcjsicioun, 
Ech  falleth  in  others  exaltacioun; 


/i 


628 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[703-775- 


And  thus,  god  woot !  Mercuric  is  desolat 

In  Pisces,  wher  Venus  is  axaltat; 

And    Venus    falleth    wher    Mercuric    is 

reysed ;  70.5 

Therfore    no    womman    of    no   clerk   is 

preysed. 
The   clerk,   whan   he   is   old,    and   may 

noght  do 
Of  Venus  werkes  worth  his  olde  sho, 
Than  sit  he  doun,  and  writ  in  his  dotage 
That  wommen  can  nat  kepe  hir  mariage ! 
But  now  to  purpos,  why  I  tolde  thee  71 1 
That  I  was  beten  for  a  book,  pardee. 
Up-on  a  night  lankin,  that  was  our  syre, 
Redde  on  his  book,  as  he  sat  by  the  fyre, 
Of  Eva  first,  that,  for  hirwikkednesse,  715 
Was  al  mankindc  broght  to  wrecched- 

nesse. 
For  which   that  lesu  Crist  him-self  was 

slayn. 
That    boghte    us   with    his   herte-blood 

agayn. 
Lo,  here  expres  of  womman  may  ye  finde, 
That  womman  was  the  los  of  al  man- 

kinde.  720 

Tho  redde  he  me  how  Sampson  lostc 

his  heres, 
Slcpinge,  his  lemman  kitte  hem  with  hir 

sheres; 
Thurgh  whiche   tresoun  loste  he  bothe 

his  yen. 
Tho  redde  he  me,  if  that  I  shal  nat 

lyen, 
Of  Hercules  and  of  his  Dianyre,  725 

That  caused  him  to  sette  himself  a-fyre. 
No-thing  forgat  he  the  penaunce  and 

wo 
That  Socrates  had  with  hise  wyves  two; 
How   Xantippa    caste    pisse   up-on   his 

heed; 
This    sely   man    sat   stille,   as   he   were 

deed;  73° 

He  wyped  his  heed,  namore  dorste  he 

seyn 
But   "er   that   thonder   stinte,  comth  a 

reyn." 
Of  Phasipha,  that  was  the  quene    of 

Crete, 
For  shrewednesse,  him  thoughte  the  tale 

swete; 
Fy !  spek  na-morc  —  it  is  a  grisly  thing  — 
Of  hir  horrible  lust  and  hir  lyking.       736 
Of  Clitemistra,  for  hir  Iccherye, 


That  falsly  made  hir  housbond  for  to  dye, 
He  redde  it  with  ful  good  devocioun. 

He  tolde  me  eek  for  what  occasioun 
Amphiorax  at  Thebes  loste  his  lyf;      741 
Myn  housbond  hadde  a  legende  of  his 

wyf, 
Eriphilem,  that  for  an  ouche  of  gold 
Hath  prively  un-to  the  Grekes  told 
Wher  that  hir  housbonde  hidde  him  in  a 

place,  745 

For  which  he  hadde  at  Thebes  sory  grace. 

Of  Lyma  tolde  he  me,  and  of  Lucye, 
They  bothe  made  hir  housbondes  for  to 

dye; 
That  oon  for  love,  that  other  was  for 

hate ; 
Lyma  hir  housbond,  on  an  even  late,  750 
Empoysoned  hath,  for  that  she  was  his  fo. 
Lucya,  likerous,  loved  hir  housbond  so, 
That,    for   he   sholde    alwcy   up-on    hir 

thinke. 
She  yaf  him  swich  a  maner  love-drinke, 
That   he  was   deed,  er   it  were   by   the 

morwe;  755 

And  thus  algates  housbondes  han  sorvve. 
Than  tolde  he  me,  how  oon  Latumius 
Compleyned  to  his  felawe  Arrius, 
That  in  his  gardin  growed  swich  a  tree. 
On  which,  he  seyde,  how  that  his  wyves 

three  760 

Hanged  hem-self  for  herte  despitous. 
"  O  leve  brother,"  quod  this  Arrius, 
"  Yif  me  a  plante  of  thilke  blissed  tree. 
And  in  my  gardin  planted  shal  it  be !  " 
Of  latter  date,  of  wyves  hath  he  red. 
That  somme  han  slayn  hir  housbondes  in 

hir  bed,  766 

And  lete  hir  lechour  dighte  hir  al  the 

night 
Whyl  that  the  corps  lay  in  the  floor  up- 
right. 
And  somme  han  drive  nayles  in  hir  brayn 
Whyl  that  they  slepte,  and  thus  they  han 

hem  slayn.  770 

Somme  han   hem   yeve  poysoun    in  hir 

drinke. 
He   spak    more   harm    than    herte    may 

bithinke. 
And  ther-with-al,  he  knew  of  mo    pro- 

verbes 
Than  in  this  world  ther  growen  gras  or 

herbes. 
"  Bet  is,"  quod  he,  "  thyn  habitacioun  775 


776-848.] 


D.  THE  WIFE  OF  BATH'S  PROLOGUE. 


629 


I 


Be  with  a  leoun  or  a  foul  dragoun, 
Than  with  a  womman  usinge  for  to  chyde.. 
I5et  is,"  quod  he,  "  hye  in  the  roof  abyde 
Than   with    an    angry   wyf   doun   in   the 

hous; 
They  been  so  wikked  and  contrarious; 
They  haten   that   hir  housboniles  loveth 

ay."  781 

He  seyde,  "a  woninian  cast  hir  shame 

away, 
Whan    she    cast    of    hir    smok;  "    and 

forther-mo, 
"  A  fair  womman,  but  she  be  chaast  also. 
Is  lyk  a  gold  ring  in  a  sowes  nose."  785 
Who  wolde  wenen,  or  who  wolde  sup- 
pose 
The  wo  that  in  myn  herte  was,  and  pyne? 
And  whan    I   saugh    he  wolde  never 

fyne 
To  reden  on  this  cursed  book  al  night, 
Al  sodeynly  three  leves  have  I  plight 
Out  of  this  book,  right  as  he  radde,  and 

eke,  791 

I  with  my  fist  so  took  him  on  the  cheke, 
That  in  our  fyr  he  fil  bakvvard  adoun. 
And  he  up-stirte  as  dooth  a  wood  leoun, 
And   with  his  fist  he  smoot  me  on  the 

heed,  795 

That  in  the  floor  I  lay  as  I  were  deed. 
And  when  he  saugh  how  stille  that  I  lay. 
He  was  agast,  and  wolde  han  fled  his 

way. 
Til  atte  laste  out  of  my  swogh  I  breyde : 
"  O  !  hastow  slayn  me,  false  theef  ?  "   I 

seyde,  800 

"  And  for  my  land  thus  hastow  mordred 

me? 
Er  I  be  deed,  yet  wol  I  kisse  thee." 
And  neer  he  cam,  and   kneled    faire 

adoun. 
And  seyde,  "  dcre  suster  Alisoun, 
As   help    me    god,    I    shal   thee    never 

smyte;  805 

That  I  have  doon,  it  is  thy-self  to  wyte. 
Foryeve  it  me,  and  that  Itheebiseke"  — 
And    yet    eft-sones  I    hitte   him  on   the 

cheke, 
And  seyde,  "  theef,   thus    muchel  am   I 

wreke; 
Now  wol  I  dye,  I  may  no  lenger  speke." 
But  atte  laste,  with  muchel  care  and  wo, 
We  fille  acorded,  by  us  selven  two.      812 
He  yaf  me  al  the  brydel  in  myii  hond 


To  han    the    governaunce  of    hous  and 

lond, 
And  of  his  tonge  and  of  his  hond  also, 
And   maile    him   brenne   his  book  anon 

right  tho.  816 

And  whan  that  I  hadde  geten  un-to  nie, 
By  maistrie,  al  the  suveraynetee. 
And  that   he   seyde,  "  myn  owcne  trewe 

wyf, 
Do  as  thee  lust  the  terme  of  al  thy  lyf. 
Keep  thyn  honour,  and   keep   eek   myn 

estaat" —  821 

After  that  day  we  hadden  never  debaat. 
God  help  me  so,  I  was  to  him  as  kinde 
As  any  wyf  from  Denmark  un-to  Iiide, 
And  also  trewe,  and  so  was  he  to  me. 
I  prey  to  god  that  sit  in  magestee,       826 
So  blesse  his  soule,  for  his  mercy  dere  ! 
Now  wol  I  seye  my  tale,  if  ye  wol  here.' 


Biholde  the  wordes  bihveen  the  Somon- 
our  and  the  J^'rere. 

The  Frere  lough,  whan  he   hadde  herd 

al  this, 
'  Now,  dame,'  quod  he, '  so  have  I  loye  or 

blis,  830 

This  is  a  long  preamble  of  a  tale  ! ' 
And  whan  the  Somnour  herde  the  Frere 

gale, 
'  Lo ! '     quod    the     Somnour,     '  goddes 

armes  two ! 
A  frere  wol  entremette  him  ever-mo. 
Lo,  gode  men,  a  flye  and  eek  a  frere  835 
Who  falle  in  every  dish  and  eek  matere. 
What  spekestow  of  preanibulacioun? 
What !  amble,  or  trotte,  or  pees,  or  go 

sit  doun; 
Thou  lettest  our  disport  in  this  manere.' 
'Ye,   woltow  so,  sir  Somnour?'   quod 

the  Frere,  840 

'  Now,  by  my  feith,  I  shal,  er  that  I  go. 
Telle  of  a  Somnour  swich  a  tale  or  two, 
That  alle  the  folk  shal  laughen  in  this 

place.' 
'  Now    elles,    Frere,    I    bishrewe    thy 

face,' 
Quod  this  Somnour,  '  and  I  bishrewe  me, 
But-if  I  telle  tales  two  or  thre  846 

Of  freres  er  I  come  to  Sidingborne, 
That    I    shal     make    thyn    herte    for    to 

morne; 


630 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[849-913. 


For  wel  I  woot  thy  pacience  is  goon.' 
Our    hoste    cryde    '  pees !    and     that 

anoon ! '  850 

And  seyde,  '  lat    the  womman   telle  hir 

tale. 
Ye   fare  as  folk  that   dronken   been  of 

ale. 


Do,  dame,  tel  forth  your  tale,  and  that  is 
best.' 
'  Al  redy,  sir,'  quod  she,  '  right  as  yow 
lest, 
If  I  have  licence  of  this  worthy  Frere.' 
'  Yis,  dame,'  quod  he,  '  tel  forth,  and  I 
wol  here.'  856 

Here  endeth  the  Wyf  of  Bathe  hir  Prologe. 


THE  TALE   OF  THE   WYF  OF   BATHE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Tale  of  the  Wyf  of 
Bathe. 

In  tholde  dayes  of  the  king  Arthour, 
Of  which  that  Britons  speken  greet  hon- 
our, 
Al  was  this  land  fulfild  of  fayerye.       859 
The  elf-queen,  with  hir  loly  companye, 
Daunced  ful  ofte  in  many  a  grene  mede; 
This  was  the  olde  opinion,  as  I  rede. 
I  speke  of  manye  hundred  yeres  ago; 
But  now  can  no  man  see  rfone  elves  mo. 
For  now  the  grete  charitee   and   pray- 
eres  865 

Of  limitours  and  othere  holy  freres, 
That  serchen  every  lond  and  every  streem. 
As  thikke  as  motes  in  the  sonne-beem, 
Blessinge     halles,     chambres,    kichenes, 

boures, 
Citees,  burghes,  castels,  hye  toures,     870 
Thropes,  bernes,  shipnes,  dayeryes, 
This  maketh  that  ther  been  no  fayeryes. 
For  ther  as  wont  to  walken  was  an  elf, 
Ther  walketh  now  the  limitour  him-self 
In  undermeles  and  in  morweninges,    875 
And  seyth  his  matins  and  his  holy  thinges 
As  he  goth  in  his  limitacioun. 
Wommen  may  go  saufly  up  and  doun. 
In  every  bush,  or  under  every  tree; 
There  is  noon  other  incubus  but  he,    880 
And  he  ne  wol  doon  hem  but  dishonour. 
And  so  bifel  it,  that  this  king  Arthour 
Hadde  in  his  hous  a  lusty  bacheler. 
That  on  a  day  cam  rydinge  fro  river; 
And    happed    that,    allone   as   she   was 
born,  885 

He  saugh  a  mayde  walkinge  him  biforn. 
Of  whiche  mayde  anon,  maugree  hir  heed, 
By  verray  force  he  rafte  hir  maydenheed; 


For  which  oppressioun  was  swich  clamour 
And  swich  pursute   un-to  the  king  Ar- 
thour, 890 
That  dampned  was  this  knight  for  to  be 

deed 
By  cours  of  lawe,  and  sholde  han  lost  his 

heed 
Faraventure,  swich  was  the  statut  tho; 
But  that  the  quene  and  othere  ladies  mo 
So  longe  preyeden  the  king  of  grace,  895 
Til  he  his  lyf  him  graunted  in  the  place. 
And   yaf  him   to   the   quene    al   at   hir 

wille. 
To  chese,  whether  she  wolde  him  save  or 

spille. 
The  quene  thanketh  the  king  with  al 

her  might, 
And    after    this    thus   spak   she    to    the 

knight,  900 

Whan  that  she  saugh  hir  tyme,  up-on  a 

day: 
*  Thou  standest  yet,'  quod  she,  '  in  swich 

array. 
That  of  thy  lyf  yet  hastow  no  suretee. 
I  grante  thee  lyf,  if  thou  canst  tellen  me 
What  thing  is  it  that  wommen  most  de- 
syren?  905 
Be  war,  and  keep  thy  nekke-boon  from 

yren. 
And  if  thou  canst  nat  tellen  it  anon, 
Yet  wol  I  yeve  thee  leve  for  to  gon 
A  twelf-month  and  a  day,  to  seche  and 

lere 
An  answere  sufifisantin  this  matere.     910 
And   suretee   wol    I    han,  er  that   thou 

pace. 
Thy  body  for  to  yelden  in  this  place.' 
Wo  was  this  knight  and  sorwefully  he 

syketh; 


914-989.] 


D.     THE   TALE   OF    THE    WYE   OF    BAllIE. 


63' 


But  what !  he  may  nat  do  al  as  him  lyk- 

eth. 

And  at  the  laste,  he  chees  him   for  to 

wende,  915 

And  come  agayn,  right  at  the  yeres  ende, 

With  swich  answere  as  god  wolde   him 

purveye ; 
And  taketh  his  leve,  and  wendeth  forth 
his  weye. 
He  seketh  every  hous  and  every  place, 
Wher-as  he  hopeth  for  to  finde  grace,  920 
To  lerne,  what  thing  womnien  loven  most; 
But  he  ne  coude  arryven  in  no  cost, 
Wher-as  he  mighte  iinde  in  this  matere 
Two  creatures  accordinge  in-fere. 

Somme    seyde,   wommen    loven    best 

richesse,  925 

Somme    seyde,    honour,    somme    seyde, 

lolynesse; 
Somme,  riche  array,  somme  seyden,  lust 

abedde. 
And  ofte  tyme  to  be  widwe  and  wedde. 
Somme   seyde,  that   our   hertes   been 
most  esed, 
Whan    that    we    been    y-flatered    and 
y-plesed.  930 

He  gooth  ful  ny  the  sothe,  I  wol  nat  lye; 
A  man  shal  winne  us  best  with  flaterye; 
And  with  attendance,  and  with  bisinesse. 
Been  we  y-lymed,  bothe  more  and  lesse. 
And  somme  seyn,  how  that  we  loven 
best  935 

For  to  be  free,  and  do  right  as  us  lest, 
And  that  no  man  repreve  us  of  our  vyce. 
But  seye  that  we  be  wyse,  and  no-thing 

nyce. 
For  trewely,  ther  is  noon  of  us  alle,    939 
If  any  wight  wol  clawe  us  on  the  galle, 
That  we  nil  kike,  for  he  seith  us  sooth; 
Assay,  and  he  shal  fmde  it  that  so  dooth. 
For  be  we  never  so  vicious  with-inne. 
We  wol  been  holden  wyse,  and  clene  of 
sinne. 
And  somme  seyn,  that  greet  delyt  han 
we  945 

For  to  ben  holden  stable  and  eek  secree, 
And  in  o  purpos  stedefastly  to  dvvelle. 
And  nat  biwreye  thing  that  men  us  telle. 
But  that  tale  is  nat  worth  a  rake-stele; 
Pardee,    we    wommen    conne    no-thing 
hele;  95° 

Witnesse  on  Myda;   wol  ye  here  the  tale? 
Ovyde,  amonges  othere  thinges  smale, 


Seyde,  Myda  hadde,  under  his  longe  heres, 
Growinge  up-on  his  heed  two  asses  eres, 
The   which    vyce   he   hidde,   as    he    best 
mighte,  955 

Ful  subtilly  from  every  mannes  sighte. 
That,  save  his  wyf,  ther  wiste  of  it  na-mo. 
He  loved  hir  most,  and  trusted  hir  also; 
He  preyede  hir,  that  to  no  creature 
She  sholde  tellen  of  his  disligure.         960 
She  swoor  him  '  nay,  for  al  this  work! 
to  winne. 
She  nolde  do  that  vileinye  or  sinne. 
To  make  hir  housbond    han  so  foul   a 

name; 
She    nolde   nat   telle   it   for   hir   owene 

shame.' 

But    nathelees,   hir    thoughte    that   she 

dyde,  965 

That  she  so  longe  sholde  a  conseil  hyde; 

Hir  thoughte  it  svval  so  sore  aboute  hir 

herte, 
That  nedely  som  word  hir  moste  asterte; 
And  sith  she  dorste  telle  it  to  no  man, 
Doun  to  a  mareys  faste  by  she  ran;     970 
Til  she  cam  there,  hir  herte  was  a-fyre, 
And,  as  a  bitore  bombleth  in  the  myre. 
She    leyde    hir   mouth   un-to   the   water 

doun : 
'  Biwreye  me  nat,  thou  water,  with    thy 

soun,' 
Quod    she,    '  to    thee    I    telle    it,    and 
namo;  975 

Myn  housbond  hath  longe  asses  eres  two  ! 
Now  is  myn  herte  all  hool,  now  is  it  oute; 
I  mighte  no  lenger  kepe  it,  out  of  doute.' 
Heer  may  ye  se,  thogh  we  a  tyme  abyde. 
Yet  out  it  moot,  we  can  no  conseil 
hyde;  980 

The  remenant  of  the  tale  if  ye  wol  here, 
Redeth  Ovyde,  and  ther  ye  may  it  lere. 
This  knight,  of  which  my  tale  is  spe- 
cially, 
Whan  that  he  saugh  he  mighte  nat  come 

therby. 
This   is   to   seye,   what   wommen    loven 
moost,  985 

With-inne  his  brest  ful  sorweful  was  the 

goost ; 
But  hoom  he  gooth,  he  mighte  nat  so- 

iourne. 
The  day  was  come,  that  hoomward  moste 

he  tourne, 
And  in  his  wey  it  happed  him  to  ryde, 


632 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[990-1059. 


In  al  this  care,  under  a  forest-syde,     990 
Wher-as  he  saugh  up-on  a  daunce  go 
Of  ladies  foure  and  twenty,  and  yet  mo; 
Toward  the  whiche  daunce  he  drow  ful 

yerne. 
In   hope    that   som    wisdom   sholde    he 

lerne. 
But  certeinly,  er  he  came  fully  there,  995 
Vanisshed    was    this    daunce,    he    niste 

where. 
No  creature  saugh  he  that  bar  lyf, 
Save  on  the  gr^ne  he  saugh  sittinge  a 

wyf; 
A  fouler  wight  ther  may  no  man  devyse. 
Agayn   the    knight    this   olde    wyf    gan 

ryse,  1000 

And    seyde,    '  sir    knight,   heer-forth    ne 

lyth  no  wey. 
Tel  me,  what  that  ye  seken,  by  your  fey? 
I'araventure  it  may  the  bettre  be; 
Thise  olde  folk  can  muchel  thing,'  quod 

she. 
'  My  leve   mooder,'   quod   this   knight 

certeyn,  1005 

'  I  nam  but  deed,  but-if  that  I  can  seyn 
What    thing    it    is    that    wommen    most 

desyre; 
Coude  ye  me  wisse,  I  wolde  wel  quyte 

your  hyre.' 
'  Plighte  me  thy  trouthe,  heer  in  myn 

hand,'  quod  she, 
'  The  nexte  thing  that  I  requere  thee,  loio 
Thou  shalt  it  do,  if  it  lye  in  thy  might; 
And  I  wol  telle  it  yow  er  it  be  night.' 
'  Have  heer  my  trouthe,'  quod  the  knight, 

'  I  grante.' 
'Thanne,'  quod  she,  'I  dar   me   wel 

avante,  1014 

Thy  lyf  is  sauf,  for  I  wol  stonde  therby, 
Up-on  my  lyf,  the  queen  wol  seye  as  I. 
Lat  see  which  is  the  proudeste  of   hem 

alle. 
That  wereth  on  a  coverchief  or  a  calle, 
That  dar  seye  nay,  of  that  I  shal  thee 

teche; 
Lat  us  go  forth  with-outen  lenger  speche.' 
Tho  rouned  she  a  pistel  in  his  ere,     1 021 
And  bad  him  to  be  glad,  and  have  no 

fere. 
Whan  they  be  comen  to  the  court,  this 

knight 
Seyde,   '  he   had   holde    his   day,   as  he 

hadde  hight, 


And  redy  was  his  answere,'  as  he  sayde. 
Ful   many   a    noble    wyf,   and    many   a 

mayde,  1026 

And  many  a  widwe,  for  that  they  ben 

wyse, 
The  quene  hir-self  sittinge  as  a  lustyse. 
Assembled  been,  his  answere  for  to  here; 
And    afterward    this    knight    was    bode 

appere.  1030 

To  every  wight  comanded  was  silence. 
And  that  the  knight  sholde  telle  in  audi- 
ence. 
What  thing  that  worldly  wommen  loven 

best. 
This  knight  ne  stood  nat  stille  as  doth  a 

best. 
But  to  his  questioun  anon  answerde  1035 
With  manly  voys,  that  al   the   court  it 

herde : 
*  My  lige  lady,  generally,'  quod  he, 
'  Wommen  desyren  to  have  sovereyntee 
As  wel  over  hir  housbond  as  hir  love. 
And  for  to  been  in  maistrie  him  above; 
This  is  your  moste  desyr,  thogh  ye  me 

kille,  1041 

Doth  as  yow  list,  I  am  heer  at  your  wille.' 

In   al   the   court  ne  was  ther  wyf  ne 

mayde, 
Ne  widwe,  that  contraried  that  he  sayde. 
But  seyden,  '  he  was  worthy  han  his  lyf.' 
And  with  that  word  up  stirte  the  olde 

wyf,  1046 

Which  that  the  knight  saugh  sittinge  in 

the  grene  : 
'  Mercy,'  quod  she,   '  my  sovereyn   lady 

quene ! 
Er  that  your  court  departe,  do  me  right. 
I  taughte  this  answere  un-to  the  knight; 
For    which   he    plighte    me    his    trouthe 

there,  105 1 

The  firste  thing  I  wolde  of  him  requere, 
He  wolde  it  do,  if  it  lay  in  his  might. 
Bifore  the  court  than  preye  I   thee,  sir 

knight,' 
Quod  she,  '  that  thou  me  take  un-to  thy 

wyf;  1055 

For  wel  thou  wost  that  I  have  kept  thy 

lyf. 
If  I  sey  fals,  sey  nay,  up-on  thy  fey ! ' 
This    knight    answerde,    'alias!    and 

weylawey ! 
I   woot   right   wel   that   swich   was   my 

biheste. 


io6o-ii37- 


D.     TIIK    TALK   OK   THE    WYF   OF    BATHE. 


(>33 


For  godfles  love,  as  chees  a  newe  re- 

([ueste;  1060 

Tak  al  my  good,  and  lat  ray  body  go.' 
'  Nay  than,'  quod  she,  '  I   shrewe   us 

l)othe  two  ! 
For  thogh  that  I  be  foul,  and  old,  and 

pore, 
I  noldc  for  al  the  metal,  ne  for  ore, 
That    under    erthe    is    grave,    or    lyth 

above,  1065 

But-if  thy  wyf  I  were,  and  eek  thy  love.' 

'My     love?'     quod     he;     'nay,     my 

dampnacioun  ! 
Alias  !  that  any  of  my  nacioun 
Sholde  ever  so  foule  disparaged  be !  ' 
But  al  for  noght,  the  ende  is  this,  that 

he  1070 

Constreyned   was,    he   nedes   moste    hir 

wedde; 
And  taketh  his  olde  wyf,  and  gooth  to 

bedde. 
Now  wolden  som  men  seye,  paraven- 

ture. 
That,  for  my  necligence,  I  do  no  cure 
To  tellen  yow  tlie  loye  and  al  tharray 
That  at  the  feste  was  that  ilke  day.    1076 
To  whiche  thing  shortly  answere  I  shal; 
1  seye,  ther  nas  no  loye  ne  feste  at  al, 
Ther  nas  hut  hevinesse  and  muche  sorwe; 
F"or  prively  he  wedded  hir  on  a  morwe. 
And    al    day    after    hidde    him    as    an 

oule;  108 1 

So  wo  was  him,  his  wyf  looked  so  foule. 

Greet  was  the  wo  the  knight  hadde  in 

his  thoght. 
Whan    he   was    with    his    wyf    a-bedde 

y-broght; 
He  walweth,  and  he  turneth  to  and  fro. 
His  olde  wyf  lay  smylinge  evermo,    10S6 
And  seyde,  'o  dere  housbond,  benedicite  ! 
I'areth  every  knight  thus  with  his  wyf  as 

ye? 
Is  this  the  lawe  of  king  Arthures  hous? 
Is  every  knight  of  his  so  dangerous?  1090 
I  am  your  owene  love  and  eek  your  wyf; 
1  am  she,  which  that  saved  hath  your  lyf ; 
And  certes,  yet  dide  I  yow  never  unright; 
Why  fare    ye    thus    with    me    this    lirste 

night? 
^'e  farcn  lyk  a  man  had  lost  his  wit;   1095 
What  is  my  gilt?  for  goddes  love,  tel  me 

it, 
And  it  slial  been  amended,  if  I  may.' 


'Amended?'  quod  this  knight,  'alias! 
nay,  nay ! 
It  vvol  nat  been  amended  never  mo ! 
Thou  art  so  loothly,  and  so  old  also,  1 100 
And  ther-to  comen  of  so  lowe  a  kinde. 
That  litel  wonder  is,  thogh  I  walwe  and 

winde. 
So  wolde  god  myn  herte  wolde  breste !  ' 
'  Is  this,'  quod  she,  '  the  cause  of  your 

unreste?' 
'Ye,  certainly,'  quod  he,  'no  wonder 
is.'  1105 

'  Now,  sire,'  quod  she, '  I  coude  amende 
al  this, 
If  that  me  liste,  er  it  were  dayes  three. 
So  wel  ye  mighte  bere  yow  un-to  me. 

But  for  ye  speken  of  swich  gentillesse 
As  is  descended  out  of  old  richesse,  1 1 10 
That  therfore  sholden  ye  lie  gentil  men, 
Swich  arrogance  is  nat  worth  an  hen. 
Loke  who  that  is  most  vertuous  alway, 
Privee  and  apert,  and  most  entendeth  ay 
To  do  the  gentil  dedes  that  he  can,   1 1 1 5 
And  tak  him  for  the  grettest  gentil  man. 
Crist  wol,  we  clayme  of  him  our  gen- 
tillesse, 
Nat  of  our  eldres  for  hir  old  richesse. 
For  thogh  they  yeve  us  al  hir  heritage, 
For  which  we  clayme  to  been  of  heigh 
parage,  1 1 20 

Yet  may  they  nat  biquethe,  for  no-thing, 
To  noon  of  us  hir  vertuous  living. 
That  made  hem  gentil  men  y-called  be; 
And  bad  us  folwen  hem  in  swich  degree. 

Wel  can  the  wyse  poete  of  Florence, 
That   highte   Dant,  speken   in  this  sen- 
tence; 1126 
Lo  in  swich  maner  rym  is  Dantes  tale : 
"  Ful   selde  up  ryseth  by   his   branches 

smale 
Prowesse  of  man,  for  god,  of  his  good- 

nesse, 
Wol   that  of  him   we  clayme  our   gen- 
tillesse; "  1 130 
For  of  our  eldres  may  we  no-thing  clayme 
But  temporel  thing,  that  man  may  hurte 
and  mayme. 
Eek  every  wight  wot  this  as  wel  as  I, 
If  gentillesse  were  planted  naturelly 
Un-to  a  certeyn  linage,  doun  the  lyne, 
Privee  ne  apert,  than  wolde  they  never 
fyne  11 36 
To  doon  of  gentillesse  the  faire  offyce ; 


634 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1138-1218. 


They  mighte  do  no  vileinye  or  vyce. 
Tak  fyr,  and  ber   it   in   the   derkeste 

hous 
Bitwix  this  and  the  mount  of  Caucasus, 
And  lat  men   shette  the  dores  and  go 

thenne;  1141 

Yet  wol  the  fyr  as  faire  lye  and  brenne, 
As   twenty  thousand  men  mighte  it  bi- 

holde; 
His  office  naturel  ay  wol  it  holde, 
Up  peril  of  my  lyf,  til  that  it  dye.       1 145 
Heer  may  ye  see  wel,  how  that  gen- 

terye 
Is  nat  annexed  to  possessioun, 
Sith  folk  ne  doon  hir  operacioun 
Alwey,  as  dooth  the  fyr,  lo  !  in  his  kinde. 
For,  god   it  woot,  men   may  wel  often 

finde  1 1 50 

A  lordes  sone  do  shame  and  vileinye; 
And  he  that  wol  han  prys  of  his  gentrye 
For  he  was  boren  of  a  gentil  hous. 
And  hadde  hise  eldres  noble  and  vertuous, 
And  nil  him-selven  do  no  gentle  dedis, 
Ne  folwe  his  gentil  auncestre  that  deed 

is,  1 156 

He  nis  nat  gentil,  be  he  duk  or  erl; 
For  vileyns  sinful  dedes  make  a  cherl. 
For  gentillesse  nis  but  renomee 
Of  thyne  auncestres,  for  hir  heigh  boun- 

tee,  1 1 60 

Which  is  a  strange  thing  to  thy  persone. 
Thy  gentillesse  cometh  fro  god  allone; 
Than    comth   our  verray   gentillesse   of 

grace, 
It  was   no-thing   biquethe    us  with   our 

place. 
Thenketh  how  noble,  as  seith  Valerius, 
Was  thilke  Tullius  Hostilius,  1 166 

That  out  of  povert  roos  to  heigh  noblesse. 
Redeth  Senek,  and  redeth  eek  Boece, 
Ther  shul  ye  seen  expres  it  that  no  drede 

is, 
That  he  is  gentil  that  doth  gentil  dedis; 
And  therfore,  leve  housbond,  I  thus  con- 
clude, 1171 
Al  were  it  that   myne  auncestres    were 

rude. 
Yet  may  the  hye  god,  and  so  hope  I, 
Grante  me  grace  to  liven  vertuously. 
Thanne  am  I  gentil,  whan  that  I  biginne 
To  liven  vertuously  and  weyve  sinne. 

And  ther-as  ye  of  povert  me  repreve, 
The  hye  god,  on  whom  that  we  bileve, 


In  wilful  povert  chees  to  live  his  lyf.    1 179 
And  certes  every  man,  mayden,  or  wyf. 
May  understonde  that  lesus,  hevene  king, 
Ne  wolde  nat  chese  a  vicious  living. 
Glad  povert  is  an  honest  thing,  certeyn; 
This  wol  Senek  and  othere  clerkes  seyn. 
Who-so  that  halt  him  payd  of  his  pov- 

erte,  1185 

I   holde  him  riche,  al  hadde  he  nat  a 

sherte. 
He  that  coveyteth  is  a  povre  wight. 
For   he    wolde   han   that  is   nat   in   his 

might. 
But  he  that   noght   hath,  ne   coveyteth 

have, 
Is  riche,  al-though  ye  holde  him  but  a 

knave.  11 90 

Verray  povert,  it  singeth  proprely; 
luvenal  seith  of  povert  merily  : 
"  The  povre  man,  whan  he  goth  by  the 

weye, 
Bifore   the    theves    he    may   singe   and 

pleye." 
Povert  is  hateful  good,  and,  as  I  gesse, 
A  ful  greet  bringer  out  of  bisinesse;  , 

A  greet  amender  eek  of  sapience       I '97      Jjlt 
To  him  that  taketh  it  in  pacience.  \Af*^ 

Povert  is  this,  although  it  seme  elenge : 
Possessioun,  that  no  wight  wol  chalenge. 
Povert  ful  ofte,  whan  a  man  is  lowe, 
Maketh    his    god   and   eek   him-self  to 

knowe.  1202 

Povert  a  spectacle  is,  as  thinketh  me, 
Thurgh  which  he  may  his  verray  frendes 

see. 
And  therfore,  sire,  sin  that  I  noght  yow 

greve,  1205 

Of  my  povert  na-more  ye  me  repreve. 

Now,  sire,  of  elde  ye  repreve  me; 
And  certes,  sire,  thogh  noon  auctoritee 
Were  in  no  book,  ye  gentils  of  honour 
Seyn  that  men  sholde  an  old  wight  doon 

favour,  1 2 10 

And  clepe  him  fader,  for  your  gentillesse; 
And  auctours  shal  I  finden,  as  I  gesse. 
Now  ther  ye  seye,  that  I  am  foul  and 

old. 
Than  drede  you  noght  to  been  a  coke- 
wold;  1214 
For  filthe  and  elde,  al-so  moot  I  thee, 
Been  grete  wardeyns  up-on  chastitee. 
But  nathelees,  sin  I  knowe  your  delyt, 
I  shal  fulfiUe  your  worldly  appetyt. 


I2I9-I285.] 


D.     THE   FRIAR'S   PROLOGUE. 


635 


Chces  now,'  quod  she,  'oon  of  thise 

tliingfs  tweye,  1219 

To  hail  me  foul  and  old  til  that  I  deye, 
And  be  to  yow  a  trevve  humble  wyf, 
And  never  yow  tiisplese  in  al  my  lyf, 
(Jr  elles  ye  wol  han  me  yong  and  fair, 
And  take  your  aventure  of  the  repair 
That  shal  be  to  your  hous,  by-cause  of 

me,  1225 

Or  in  som  other  place,  may  wel  be. 
Now    cliees    your-selven,   whether    that 

yow  lyketh.' 
This    knight    avyseth    him   and   sore 

syketh, 
But  atte  laste  he  seyde  in  this  manere, 
'  My  lady  and  my  love,  and  wyf  so  dere, 
I  put  me  in  your  wyse  governance;   1 231 
Cheseth   your-self,  which  may  be   most 

plesance. 
And  most  honour  to  yow  and  me  also. 
I  do  no  fors  the  whether  of  the  two; 
For  as  yow  lyketh,  it  suffiseth  me.'     1235 
'Thanne  have  I  gete  of  yow  maistrye,' 

quod  she, 
•  Sin  I  may  chese,  and  governe  as  me 

lest?' 
'  Ye,  certes,  wyf,'  quod  he,  '  I  holde  it 

best.' 
*  Kis  me,'  quod  she,  '  we  be  no  lenger 

vvrothe; 
For,  by   my  trouthe,  I   wol   be  to  yow 

bothe,  1 240 

Here  endeth  the  Wy 


This  is  to  seyn,  ye,  I)othe  fair  and  good. 
I  prey  to  god  that  I  mot  sterven  wood, 
15ut  1  to  yow  be  al-so  good  and  trcwe 
As  ever  was  wyf,  sin  that  the  world  was 

newe. 
And,  but  I  be  to-morn  as  fair  to  sene 
As  any  lady,  emperyce,  or  quene,       1246 
That  is  bitwixe  the  est  and  eke  the  west, 
Doth  with  my  lyf  and  deeth  right  as  yow 

lest. 
Cast  up  the  curtin,  loke  how  that  it  is.' 
And  whan    the  knight  saugh  verraily 

al  this,  1250 

That  she  so  fair  was,  and  so  yong  ther-to, 
For  loye  he  hente  hir  in  his  armes  two. 
His  herte  bathed  in  a  bath  of  Ijlisse; 
A   thousand   tyme   a-rewe    he    gan    hir 

kisse. 
And  she  obeyed  him  in  everything    1255 
That  mighte  doon  him  plesance  or  lyk- 

ing. 
And  thus   they   live,   un-to    hir   lyves 

ende. 
In  parfit  loye;   and  lesu  Crist  us  sende 
Ilousbondes   meke,    yonge,  and    fresshe 

a-bedde. 
And     grace     toverbyde     hem    that    we 

wedde.  1260 

And  eek  I  preye  lesu  shorte  hir  lyves 
That  wol  nat  be  governed  by  hir  wyves; 
And  olde  and  angry  nigardes  of  dispence, 
God  sende  hem  sone  verray  pestilence. 
'ves  Tale  of  Bathe. 


THE   FRIAR'S   PROLOGUE. 


The  Prologe  of  the  Freres  tale. 

Tins  worthy  limitour,  this  noble  Frere 
He  made  alwey  a  maner  louring  chere 
Upon  the  .Somnour,  but  for  honestee  1267 
No  vileyns  word  as  yet  to  him  spak  he. 
But  atte  laste  he  seyde  un-to  the  Wyf, 
'  Dame,'  quod  he,  '  god  yeve  yow  right 

good  lyf!  1270 

Ye  han  heer  touched,  al-so  moot  I  thee. 
In  scole-matere  greet  difficultee; 
Ye  han  seyd  muchel  thing  right  wel,  I 

seye ; 
But  dame,  here  as  we  ryden  by  the  weye, 


Us     nedeth    nat    to     speken     but     of 
game,  '275 

And  lete  auctoritees,  on  goddes  name. 
To  preching  and  to  scole  eek  of  clergye. 
But  if  it  lyke  to  this  companye 
I  wol  yow  of  a  somnour  telle  a  game. 
Pardee,    ye    may    wel    knowe    by    the 
name,  1280 

That   of  a   somnour    may   no   good   be 

sayd ; 
I  pray  that  noon  of  you  be  yvel  apayd. 
A  somnour  is  a  renner  up  and  doun 
With  niandements  for  foriiicacioun, 
And  is  y-bet  at  every  tounes  ende.'  1285 


636 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[ I 286-1 349. 


Our  host  tho  spak,  '  a !  sire,  ye  sholde 
be  hende 
And  curteys,  as  a  man  of  your  estaat; 
In  companye  we  wol  have  no  debaat. 
Telleth  your  tale,  and  lal  the  Soninour  be.' 
'  Nay,'    quod    the   Somnour,   '  lat   him 
seye  to  me  1290 

What  so  him  list;   whan  it  comth  to  my 
lot, 


By  god,  I  shal  him  quyten  every  grot. 
1  shal  him  tellen  which  a  greet  honour 
It  is  to  be  a  flateringe  limitour; 
And  his  offyce  I  shal  him  telle,  y-wis.' 
Our  host  answerde,  '  pees,  na-more  of 
this.'  1296 

And  after  this  he  seyde  un-to  the  Frere, 
'  Tel     forth     your     tale,     leve     meister 
deere.' 


Here  endeth  the  Prologe  of  the  Frere. 


THE   FRERES  TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Freres  tale. 

Whilom  ther  was  dwellinge  in  my  con- 
tree 
An  erchedeken,  a  man  of  heigh  degree, 
That  boldely  dide  execucioun  1301 

In  punisshinge  of  fornicacioun. 
Of  wicchecraft,  and  eek  of  bauderye. 
Of  diffamacioun,  and  avoutrye, 
Of  chirche-reves,  and  of  testaments,  1 305 
Of  contractes,  and  of  lakke  of  sacraments, 
And  eek  of  many  another  maner  cryme 
Which  nedeth  nat  rehercen  at  thistyme; 
Of  usure,  and  of  symonye  also. 
But   certes,   lechours    dide    he    grettest 

wo;  1310 

"Jhey  sholde  singen,  if  that   they   were 

hente; 
An  smale  tytheres  weren  foule  y-shent. 
If  any  persone  wolde  up-on  hem  pleyne, 
Ther    mighte    asterte    him    no    pecunial 

peyne  I3I4 

For  smale  tythes  and  for  smal  offringe, 
He  made  the  peple  pitously  to  singe. 
For  er  the  bisshop  caughte  hem  with  his 

hook. 
They  weren  in  the  erchedeknes  book. 
Thanne    hadde  he,  thurgh   his  lurisdic- 

cioun, 
Power  to  doon  on  hem  correccioun.  1320 
He  hadde  a  Somnour  redy  to  his  hond, 
A  slyer  boy  was  noon  in  Engelond; 
For  subtilly  he  hadde  his  espiaille 
That  taughte  him,  wher  that  him  mighte 

avaiile.  1324 

He  coude  spare  of  lechours  oon  or  two, 


To  techen  him  to  foure  and  twenty  mo. 
For  thogh  this  Somnour  wood  were  as  an 

hare. 
To  telle  his  harlotrye  I  wol  nat  spare; 
For  we  been  out  of  his  correccioun; 
They  han  of  us  no  lurisdiccioun,        1330 
Ne  never  shuUen,  terme  of  alle  hir  lyves. 
'  Peter !   so  been  the  wommen  of  the 

styves,' 
Quod   the    Somnour,  'y-put   out  of  my 

cure !  ' 
'  Pees,  with  mischance  and  with  mis- 

aventure,' 
Thus  seyde  our  host,  '  and  lat  him  telle 

his  tale.  I335 

Now  telleth  forth,  thogh  that  the  Som- 
nour gale, 
Ne  spareth  nat  myn  owene  maister  dere.' 
This   false   theef,  this  Somnour,  quod 

the  Frere, 
Hadde  alwey  baudes  redy  to  his  hond, 
As  any  hauk  to  lure  in  Engelond,      1340 
That  tolde  him  al  the  secree  that  they 

knewe; 
For  hir  acqueyntance  was  nat  come  of- 

newe. 
They  weren  hise  approwours  prively; 
He  took  him-self  a  greet  profit  therby; 
His  maister   knew   nat   alwey  what  he 

wan.  1345 

With-outen  mandement,  a  lewed  man 
He  coude   somne,  on  peyne   of  Cristes 

curs. 
And  they  were  gladde   for    to    fiUe    his 

purs,  «j 

And  make  him  grete  festes  atte  nale.     ^ 


1350-1429.] 


D.    THE   FRERES  TALE. 


637 


And  right  as  ludas  hadde  purses  smale, 
And  was  a  theef,  right  swich  a  theef  was 

he;  1351 

His  maister  hadde  but  half  his  dutitee. 
He  was,  if  I  shal  yeven  him  his  laude, 
A    theef,    and    eek    a    Soninour,    and    a 

baude.  1354 

He  hadde  eek  wenches  at  his  retenue, 
That,  whether  that  sir  Robert  or  sir  Hu«e, 
Or  lakke,  or  Rauf,  or  who-so  that  it  were, 
That  lay  by  hem,  they  told  it  in  his  ere; 
Thus  was  the  wenche  and  he  of  oon  assent. 
And  he  wolde  fecche  a  feyned  mande- 

ment,  1360 

And  somne  hem  to  the  chapitre   bothe 

two, 
And  pile  the  man,  and  lete  the  wenche 

go. 
Thanne  wolde  he  seye, '  frend,  I  shal  for 

thy  sake 
Do  stryken  hir  out  of  our  lettres  blake; 
Thee   thar   na-more  as  in  this   cas   tra- 

vaille;  1365 

I  am  thy  freend,  ther  I  thee  may  availle.' 
Certeyn  he  knew  of  bryberyes  mo 
Than  possil)le  is  to  telle  in  yeres  two. 
For  in  this  world  nis  dogge  for  the  bowe. 
That   can   an   hurt    deer   from   an    hool 

y-knovve,  137° 

Bet  than  this  Somnour  knew  a  sly  lechour, 
Or  an  avouter,  or  a  paramour. 
And,  for  that  was  the  fruit  of  al  his  rente, 
Therfore  on  it  he  sette  al  his  entente. 

And  so  bifel,  that  ones  on  a  day    1375 
This  Somnour,  ever  waiting  on  his  pray,  i>  t^r 
Rood  for  to  somne  a  widwe,  an  old  ribybef^J-"'>~'^ 
Feynynge  a  cause,  for  he  wolde  brybe. 
And  happed  that  he  saugh  bifore  him  ryde 
A  gay  yeman,  under  a  forest-syde.      1380 
A  bowe  he  bar,  and  arwes  brighte  and 

kene;  cW^ 

He  hadde  up-on  a  courtepy  of  grene; 
An  hat  up-on  his  heed  with  frenges  blake. 
'  Sir,'  quod  this  Somnour,   '  hayl !  and 

wel  a-take ! ' 
'  Wel-come,'  quod   he,  '  and  every  good 

felawe!  ^^^^'1385 

Wher  rydestow  under  this  grene  shawe  ?  ' 
Seyde  this  yeman,  '  wiltow  fer  to  day?' 
This  Somnour  hmi  answerde,  and  seyde, 

'  nay; 
Heer  faste  by,'  c|uod  he,  '  is  myn  entente 
To  ryden,  for  to  reysen  up  a  rente     1390 


That  longeth  to  my  lordes  duetee. 

'  Artow  thanne  a  bailly  ? '     '  Ye  ! '  quod 

he. 
He  dorste  nat,  for  verray  filthe  and  shame, 
Seye  that  he  was  a  somnour,  for  the  name. 
'  Depardieux,^  tjuod  this  yeman,  '  dere 

brt)ther,  1395 

Thou  art  a  bailly,  and  I  am  another. 
I  am  unknowen  as  in  this  contree; 
Of  thyn  aqueyntance  I  wolde  praye  thee, 
And  eek  of  brotherhede,  if  that  yow  leste. 
I  have  gold  and  silver  in  my  cheste;  1400 
If  that   thee    happe    to   comen    in    our 

shyre, 
Al  shal  be  thyn,  right  as  thou  wolt  desyre.' 
'  Grantmercy,'  quod  this  Somnour,  '  by 

my  feith  ! ' 
Everich  in  otheres  hand  his  trouthe  leith. 
For    to    be    sworne    bretheren    til    they 

deye.  1405 

In  daliance  they  ryden  forth  hir  weye. 
This  Somnour,  which  that  was  as  ful  o^ 

langles,  L^'-'-*^ 

As  ful  of  venim  been  thise  wariangles. 
And  ever  enquering  up-on  every  thing, 
'  Brother,'  quod  he,  '  where  is  now  your 

dwelling,  1410 

Another  day  if  that  I  sholde  yow  seche?  ' 

This    yeman    him    answerde    in    softe 

speche, 
'  Brother,'  quod  he, '  fer  in  the  north  con- 
tree, 
Wher,  as  I  hope,  som-tyme  I  shal  thee 

see. 

^  Er   we    departe,    I    shal    thee    so    wel 

'  wisse,  14^5 

That  of  myn  hous  ne  shaltow  never  misse.' 

'  Now,  brother,'  quod  this  Somnour,  '  I 

yow  preye, 
Teche    me,  whyl   that  we  ryden  by  the 

weye, 
Sin  that  ye  been  a  baillif  as  am  I, 
Som  subtiltee,  and  tel  me  feithfully   1420 
In  myn  offyce  how  I  may  most  winne; 
And  spareth  nat  for  conscience  ne  sinne. 
But  as  my  brother  tel  me,  how  do  ye?' 
'  Now,  by  my  trouthe,    brother   dere,' 

seyde  he, 
'  As  I  shal  tellen  thee  a  feilhful  tale,  1425 
My  wages  l)een  ful  streite  and  ful  smale. 
My  lord  is  hard  to  me  and  daunger(jus, 
And  myn  offyce  is  ful  laborous; 
And  therfore  by  extorcions  I  live. 


I 


638 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES, 


[1430-1514. 


For   sothe,  I   take  al  that  men  wol  me 

yive;  143° 

Algate,  by  sleyghte  or  by  violence, 
Fro  yeer  to  yeer  I  winne  al  my  dispence. 
I  can  no  bettre  telle  feithfully.' 

'  Now,  certes,'  quod  this  Somnour,  '  so 

fare  I; 
I  spare  nat  to  taken,  god  it  woot,      1435 
But-if  it  be  to  hevy  or  to  hoot. 
What  I  my  gete  in  conseil  prively, 
No  maner  conscience  of  that  have  I; 
Nere  myn  extorcioun,  I  mighte  nat  liven, 
Ne    of    swiche    lapes    wol    I    nat    be 

shriven.  144° 

Stomak  ne  conscience  ne  knowe  I  noon; 
I  shrewe  thise  shrifte-fadres  everichoon. 
Wei  be  we  met,  by  god  and  by  seint  lame  ! 
But,  leve  brother,  tel  me  than  thy  name,' 
Quod  this  Somnour;   and  in  this  mene- 

whyle,  1445 

This  yeman  gan  a  litel  for  to  smyle. 
'  Brother,'  quod  he,  '  wiltow  that  I  thee 

telle? 
I  am  a  feend,  my  dwelling  is  in  helle. 
And  here  I  ryde  about  my  purchasing. 
To  wite  wher  men  wolde   yeve  me  any 

thing.  1450 

My  purchas  is  theffect  of  al  my  rente. 
Loke  how  thou  rydest  for  the  same  en- 
tente. 
To  winne  good,  thou  rekkest  never  how; 
Right  so  fare  I,  for  ryde  wolde  I  now 
Un-to  the-worldes  ende  for  a  preye.'  1455 
'A,'   quod    this   Somnour,   ^ benedicite, 

what  sey  ye? 
I  wende  ye  were  a  yeman  trewely. 
Ye  han  a  mannes  shap  as  wel  as  I; 
Han  ye  figure  than  determinat 
In  helle,  ther  ye  been  in  your  estat?'  1460 
'  Nay,  certeinly,'  quod  he,  '  ther  have 

we  noon; 
But  whan  us  lyketh,  we  can  take  us  oon, 
Or  elles  make  yow  seme  we  ben  shape 
Som-tyme  lyk  a  man,  or  lyk  an  ape; 
Or  lyk  an  angel  can  I  ryde  or  go.      1465 
It  is  no  wonder  thing  thogh  it  be  so; 
A  lousy  logelour  can  deceyve  thee, 
And  pardee,  yet  can  I  more  craft  than  he.' 
•  Why,'  quod    the    Somnour,  '  ryde  ye 

thanne  or  goon  1469 

In  sondry  shap,  and  nat  alwey  in  oon?' 
'  For  we,'  quod  he, '  wol  us  swich  formes 

make 


As  most  able  is  our  preyes  for  to  take. ' 
'  What    maketh   yow   to   han   al   this 

labour  ? ' 
'  Ful  many  a  cause,  leve  sir  Somnour,' 
Seyde  this  feend,  '  but   alle    thing   hath 
tyme.  1475 

The  day  is  short,  and  it  is  passed  pryme. 
And  yet  ne  wan  I  no-thing  in  this  day. 
I  wol  entende  to  winnen,  if  I  may. 
And  nat  entende  our  wittes  to  declare. 
For,  brother  myn,  thy  wit  is  al  to  bare.  1480 
To  understonde,  al-thogh  I  tolde  hem  thee. 
But,  for  thou  axest  why  labouren  we; 
For,   som-tyme,  we   ben   goddes   instru- 
ments, 
And  menes  to  don  his  comandements. 
Whan  that  him  list,  up-on  his  creatures. 
In  divers  art  and  in  divers  figures,     i486 
With-outen  him  we  have  no  might,  cer- 

tayn. 
If  that  him  list  to  stonden  ther-agayn. 
And  som-tyme,  at  our  prayere,  han  we 

leve 
Only  the  body  and  nat  the  soule  greve; 
Witnesse  on  lob,  whom  that  we  diden 
wo.  149 1 

And  som-tyme  han  we  might  of  bothe  two, 
This  is  to  seyn,  of  soule  and  body  eke. 
And  somtyme  be  we  suffred  for  to  seke 
Up-on  a  man,  and   doon  his  soule  un- 
reste,  1495 

And  nat  his  body,  and  al  is  for  the  beste. 
Whan  he  withstandeth  our  temptacioun. 
It  is  a  cause  of  his  savacioun; 
Al-be-it  that  it  was  nat  our  entente 
He  sholde  be  sauf,   but  that  we  wolde 
him  hente.  1500 

And  som-tyme  be  we  servant  un-to  man. 
As  to  the  erchebisshop  Seint  Dunstan, 
And  to  the  apostles  servant  eek  was  I.' 
'  Yet  tel  me,'  quod  the  Somnour, '  feith- 
fully. 
Make  ye  yow  newe  bodies  thus  alway  1505 
Of  elements? '  the  feend  answerde,  '  nay; 
Som-tyme  we  feyne,   and  som-tyme  we 

aryse 
With  dede  bodies  in  ful  sondry  wyse. 
And  speke  as  renably  and  faire  and  wel 
As  to  the  Phitonissa  dide  Samuel.      15 10 
And  yet  wol  som  men  seye  it  was  nat  he; 
I  do  no  fors  of  your  divinitee. 
But  o  thing  warne  I  thee,  I  wol  nat  lape. 
Thou  wolt  algates  wite  how  we  ben  shape; 


y 


f^ 


i5'5-i583-] 


D.     THE   FRERES  TALE. 


639 


Thou    shall    her-afterward,   my   brother 

dere,  1515 

Com  ther  thee  nedeth  nat  of  me  to  lere. 
For  thou  shalt  by  thyn  owene  experience 
Conne  in  a  ch.yer  rede  of  this  sentence 
Bet  than  Virgyle,  whyl  he  was  on  lyve, 
Or  Dant  also;    now  lat  us  ryde  blyve.  1520 
For  I  wol  holde  companye  with  thee 
Til  it  be  so,  that  thou  forsake  me.' 

'  Nay,'  quod  this  Somnour,  '  that  shal 

nat  bityde; 
I  am  a  yeman,  knowen  is  ful  wyde; 
My  trouthe  wol  I  holde  as  in  this  cas.  1525 
For  though  thou  were  the  devel  Sathanas, 
My  trouthe  wol  I  holde  to  my  brother, 
As  I  am  sworn,  and  ech  of  us  til  other 
For  to  be  trewe  brother  in  this  cas; 
And  bothe  we  goon  abouten  our  purchas. 
Tak  thou   thy  part,  what  that   men  wol 

thee  yive,  1531 

And  I  shal  myn ;   thus  may  we  bothe  live. 
And  if  that  any  of  us  have  more  than 

other, 
Lat  him  be  trewe,  and  parte  it  with  his 

brother.' 
'  I  graunte,'  quod   the  devel,  '  by  my 

fey.'  153s 

And  with  that  word  they  ryden  forth  hir 

wey. 
And  right  at  the  entring  of  the  tounes 

ende, 
To  which  this  Somnour  shoop  him  for  to 

wende, 
They  saugh  a  cart,  that  charged  was  with 

hey. 
Which  that  a  carter  droof  forth  in  his 

wey.  1 540 

Deep  was  the  wey,  for  which  the  carte 

stood. 
The  carter  smoot,  and  cryde,  as  he  were 

wood, 
'  Hayt,  Brok  !  hayt,  Scot !  what  spare  ye 

for  the  stones? 
The  feend,'  quod  he,  '  yow  fecche  body 

and  bones. 
As  ferforthly  as  ever  were  we  foled  !  1545 
So  muche  wo  as  I  have  with  yow  tholed  ! 
The  devel  have  al,  bothe  hors  and  cart 

and  hey ! ' 
This   Somnour   seyde,   '  heer   shal   we 

have  a  pley;' 
And  neer  the  feend  he  drough,  as  noght 

ne  were, 


Ful  prively,  and  rouned  in  his  ere:   1550 
'Ilerkne,    my   brother,    herkne,    by  thy 

feith ; 
Ilerestow  nat  how  that  the  carter  seith? 
Hent  it  anon,  for  he  hath  yeve  it  thee, 
Bothe  hey  and  cart,  and  eek  hise  caples 

three.' 
'  Nay,'  quod  the  devel,  '  god  wot,  never 

a  deel;  '555 

It  is  nat  his  entente,  trust  me  wecl. 
Axe  him  thy-self,  if  thou  nat  trowest  me. 
Or  elles  stint  a    while,  and    thou   shalt 

see.' 
This  carter  thakketh  his  hors  upon  the 

croupe, 
And  they  bigonne  drawen  and  to-stoupe; 
'  Heyt,  now  !  '  quod  he,  '  ther  lesu  Crist 

yow  blesse,  1561 

And  al  his  handwerk,  bothe  more  and 

lesse ! 
That  was  wel  twight,  myn  owene  lyardtjt'*'^ 

I  pray  god  save  thee  and  seynt  Loy ! 
Now  is  my  cart  out  of  the  slow,  pardee  ! ' 
'  Lo  !  brother,'  quod  the  feend,  '  what 

tolde  I  thee?  1566 

Heer  may  ye  see,  myn  owene  dere  brother, 
The  carl  spak  00  thing,  but  he  thoghte 

another. 
Lat  us  go  forth  abouten  our  viage; 
Heer  winne  I  no-thing  up-on  cariage.' 
Whan  that  they  comen  som-what  out 

of  toune,  1 57 1 

This   Somnour   to    his   brother    gan    to 

roune, 
'  Brother,'  quod  he,  '  heer  woneth  an  old 

rebekke, 
That  hadde  almost  as   lief  to   lese   hir 

nekke 
As  for  to  yeve  a  peny  of  hir  good.     1575 
I  wol  han  tvvelf  pens,  though  that  she  be 

wood. 
Or  I  wol  sompne  hir  un-to  our  offyce; 
And  yet,  god  woot,  of  hir  knowe  I  no 

vyce. 
But  for  thou  canst  nat,  as  in  this  contree, 
Winne   thy  cost,  tak   heer  ensample  of 

me.'  1580 

This  Somnour  clappeth  at  the  widwes 

'Com  out,'  quod  he,  'thou  olde  viritrate  !  l^-^  ^ 
I  trowe  thou  hast  som  frere  or  preest  with 
thee ! ' 


640 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1584-1657. 


'  Who  clappeth  ? '    seyde  this  widwe, 
'  benedicite! 
God  save   you,  sire,  what  is  your  swete 
wille?'  1585 

'  I  have,'  quod  he,  '  of  somonce  here  a 
bille; 
Up  deyne  of  cursing,  loke  that  thou  be 
To-morn  bifore  the  erchedeknes  knee 
Tenswere  to  the  court  of  certeyn  thinges.' 
♦Now,  lord,'  quod  she, '  Crist  lesu,  king 
ofkinges,  1590 

So  wisly  helpe  me,  as  I  ne  may. 
I  have  been  syk,  and  that  ful  many  a  day. 
I  may  nat  go  so  fer,'  quod  she,  '  ne  ryde, 
I)Ut  I  be  deed,  so  priketh  it  in  my  syde. 
May  I  nat  axe  a  libel,  sir  Somnour,    1595 
And  answere  there,  by  my  procutour, 
To  swich  thing  as  men  wol  opposen  me?' 

♦  Yis,'  quod  this  Somnour,  '  pay  anon, 

lat  se, 
Twelf  pens  to  me,  and  I  wol  thee  acquyte. 
I  shall  no  profit  han  ther-by  but  lyte;  1600 
My  maister  hath  the  profit,  and  nat  I. 
Com  of,  and  lat  me  ryden  hastily; 
Yif  me  twelf  pens,  I  may  no  lenger  tarie.' 

•  Twelf    pens,'    quod    she,    '  now    lady 

Seinte  Marie 
So  wisly  help  me  out  of  care  and  sinne. 
This   wyde   world    thogh    that    I    sholde 

winne,  1 606 

Ne  have  I  nat  twelf  pens  with-inne  myn 

hold. 
Ye  knowen  wel  that  I  am  povre  and  old ; 
Kythe  your  almesse  on  me  povre  wrecche.' 

*  Nay  than,'  quod  he,  '  the  foule  feend 

me  fecche  16 10 

If  I  thexcuse,  though  thou  shul  be  spilt ! ' 

'  Alas,'  quod  she,  '  god  woot,  I  have  no 

gilt.' 
'  Pay  me,'  quod  he,  '  or  by  the  swete 

seinte  Anne, 
As  I  wol  bere  awey  thy  newe  panne 
For  dette,  which  that  thou  owest  me  of 

old,  1615 

Whan  that  thou  madest  thyn  housbond 

cokewold, 
I  payde  at  hoom  for  thy  correccioun.' 
'Thou  lixt,'   quod  she,  'by  my  sava- 

cioun ! 
Ne  was  I  never  er  now,  widwe  ne  wyf, 
Somoned  un-to  your  court  in  al  my  lyf ; 
Ne  never  I  nas  but  of  my  body  trewe  !  1621 
Un-to  the  devel  blak  and  rough  of  hewe 


Yeve  I  thy  body  and  my  panne  also ! ' 

And  whan  the  devel  herde  hir  cursen  so 
Up-on  hir  knees,  he  seyde  in  this  man- 

ere,  1625 

'  Now  Mabely,  myn  owene  moder  dere. 
Is  this  your  wil  in  ernest,  that  ye  seye? ' 
'  The  devel,'  quod  she,  '  so  fecche  him 

er  he  deye. 
And  panne  and  al,  but  he  wol  him  re- 

pente ! ' 
'Nay,  olde  stot,  that  is  nat  myn  en- 
tente,' 1630 
Quod  this  Somnour,  '  for  to  repente  me. 
For  any  thing  that  I  have  had  of  thee; 
I   wolde  I    hadde    thy  smok  and  every 

clooth  ! ' 
'  Now,  brother,'  quod   the  devel,  '  be 

nat  wrooth; 
Thy  body  and  this  panne  ben  myne  by 

right.  1635 

Thou  shalt  with  me  to  helle  yet  to-night. 
Where   thou  shalt  knowen   of  our  pri- 

vetee 
More  than  a  maister  of  divinitee : ' 
And  with  that  word  this  foule  feend  him 

hente;  1639 

Body  and  soule,  he  with  the  devel  wente 
Wher-as    that    somnours    han    hir    heri- 
tage. 
And  god,  that  maked  after  his  image 
Mankinde,   save   and  gyde   us    alle    and 

some; 
And    leve    this    Somnour   good   man    to 

bicome ! 
Lordinges,  I  coude  han  told  yow,  quod 

this  Frere,  1645 

Hadde  I  leyser  for  this  Somnour  here. 
After  the  text  of  Crist  [and]  Poul  and 

lohn. 
And  of  our  othere  doctours  many  oon, 
Swiche  peynes,  that  your  hertes  mighte 

agryse, 
Al-be-it  so,  no  tonge  may  devyse,      1650 
Thogh  that  I  mighte  a  thousand  winter 

telle. 
The    peyne    of   thilke    cursed    hous   of 

helle. 
But,  for  to  kepe  us  fro  that  cursed  place, 
Waketh,  and  preyeth  lesu  for  his  grace 
So  kepe  us  fro  the  temptour  Sathanas. 
Ilerketh  this  word,  beth  war  as  in  this 

cas;  1656 

The  leoun  sit  in  his  await  alway 


I65S-I70S.] 


D.    THE  SOMNOUR'S   TROLOCUE. 


■641 


To  slee  the  innocent,  if  that  he  may. 

For    Crist   wol    be    your    champion 

and 

Disposeth  ay  your  herte*  to  withstonde 
The  feend,  that  yow  wolde  make  thral 

knight. 
And  praycth  that   thise  Somnours 

hem 

and  bonde.                                       1660 
He   may   nat   tempten    yow   over    your 
might; 

repente 
Of  hir  misdedes,  er  that  the  feend 
hente. 

hem 
1664 

Here  endeth  the  Freres  tale. 


THE   SOMNOUR'S  PROLOGUE. 


The  prologe  of  the  Somnotirs  Tale. 

This  Somnour  in  his  stiropes  hye  stood; 

Up-on  this  F"rere  his  herte  was  so  wood, 

That  lyk  an  aspen  leef  he  quook  for  yre. 

'  Lordinges,'  quod  he,  '  but  o  thing  I 

desyre; 
I  yow  biseke  that,  of  your  curteisye. 
Sin  ye  han  herd  this  false  Frere  lye,  1670 
As  suffereth  me  I  may  my  tale  telle  ! 
This    F>ere    bosteth    that    he    knoweth 

helle. 
And  god  it  woot,  that  it  is  litel  wonder; 
Freres  and  feendes  been  but  lyte  a-sonder. 
For    pardee,   ye    han    ofte    tyme    herd 

telle,  1675 

How  that  a  frere  ravisshed  was  to  helle 
In  spirit  ones  by  a  visioun; 
And  as  an  angel  ladde  him  up  and  doun. 
To    shewen    him    the    peynes    that    ther 

were. 
In  al  the  place  saugh  he  nat  a  frere;  1680 
Of  other  folk  he  saugh  y-nowe  in  wo. 
Un-to  this  angel  spak  the  frere  tho : 
"  Now,    sir,"    quod    he,    "  han    freres 

svvich  a  grace 
That   noon    of    hem  shal  come  to  this 

place?" 
"Yis,"  quod  this  angel,  "many  a  mil- 

lioun !  "  1685 

And  un-to  Sathanas  he  ladde  him  doun. 

Here  endeth  the  Prolate 


"  And  now  hath  Sathanas,"  seith  he,  "  a 

tayl 
Brodder  than  of  a  carrik  is  the  sayl. 
Hold  up  thy  tayl,  thou  Sathanas !  "  quod 

he, 
"  Shewe  forth  thyn  ers,  and  lat  the  frere 

see  1 690 

Wher  is  the  nest  of  freres  in  this  place  !  " 
And,    er    that    half    a    furlong-wey    of 

space. 
Right  so  as  bees  out  swarmen  from   an 

hyve. 
Out  of  the  develes  ers  ther  gonne  dryve 
Twenty  thousand  freres  in  a  route,     1695 
And  thurgh-out  helle  swarmeden  aboute; 
And  comen  agayn,  as  faste  as  they  may 

gon, 
And  in  his  ers  they  crepten  everichon. 
He    clapte   his   tayl-  agayn,  and  lay  ful 

stille. 
This    frere,    whan    he    loked    hadde    his 

fille  1700 

Upon  the  torments  of  this  sory  place. 
His  spirit  god  restored  of  his  grace 
Un-to  his  body  agayn,  and  he  awook; 
But  natheles,  for  fere  yet  he  quook, 
So  was  the  develes  ers  ay  in  his  niinde. 
That  is  his  heritage  of  verray  kinde.  1706 
God    save    yow    alle,    save    this    cursed 

Frere ; 
My  prologe  wol  I  ende  in  this  manere.' 

0/  the  So/finours  Tale. 


642 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1709-1773. 


THE   SOMNOURS  TALE. 


Here  Mginneth  the  Somonour  his  Tale. 

LORDINGES,  ther  is  in  Yorkshire,  as  I 

gesse,  1 709 

A  mersshy  contree  called  Holdernesse, 
In  which  ther  wente  a  limitour  ahoute, 
To  preche,  and  eek  to  begge,  it  is  no 

doute. 
And  so  bifel,  that  on  a  day  this  frere 
Had  preched  at  a  chirche  in  his  manere, 
And  specially,  aboven  every  thing,    1715 
^      iy.         Excited  he  the  peple  in  his  preching, 
^ y  To  trentals,  and  to  yeve,  for  goddessake, 

\  Wher-with    men    mighten    holy    houses 

"  J-/  make, 

y/  Ther  as  divyne  service  is  honoured, 

/  Nat  ther  as  it  is  wasted  and  devoured,  1 720 

Ne  ther  it  nedeth  nat  for  to  be  yive, 
As  to  possessioners,  that  mowen  live. 
Thanked   be  god,  in   wele  and  habun- 

daunce. 
'Trentals,'  seyde  he,  'deliveren  fro  pen- 

aunce  17^4 

Hir  freendes  soules,  as  wel  olde  as  yonge, 
Ye,  whan  that  they  been  hastily  y-songe; 
Nat  for  to  holde  a  preest  loly  and  gay, 
He  singeth  nat  but  o  masse  in  a  day; 
Delivereth    out,'    quod    he,   '  anon    the 

soules; 
Ful   hard    it    i?    with   fleshhook  or   with 

oules  vu^  1730 

To  been  y-clawed,  or  to  brenne  or  bake; 
Now  spede  yow  hastily,  for  Cristes  sake.' 
And  whan  this  frere  had  seyd  al  his  en- 
tente. 
With  qui  cum  paire  forth  his  wey   he 

wente. 
Whan  folk   in  chirche  had  yeve  him 

what  hem  leste,  '735 

He  wente  his  wey,  no  lenger  wolde  he 

reste, 
With  scrippe  and   tipped  staf,  y-tukked 

hye; 
In  every  hous  he  gan  to  poure  and  prye, 
And   beggeth   mele,  and  chese,  or  elles 

corn. 
His  felawe   hadde   a   staf    tipped   with 

horn,  1740 


A  peyre  of  tables  al  of  yvory. 
And  a  poyntel  polisshed  fetisly. 
And  wroot  the  names  alwey,  as  he  stood. 
Of  alle  folk  that  yaf  him  any  good 
Ascaunces     that    he     wolde     for     hem 
{v-^^preye.  1745 

'  Yeve  us  a  busshel  whete,  malt,  or  reye,  L/ 
A  goddes  kechil,  or  a  trip  of  chese,      O^ 
Or    elles    what   yow   list,    we    may   nat 

chese; 
A  goddes  halfpeny  or  a  masse-peny. 
Or  yeve  us  of  your  brawn,  if  ye  have       ^ 

eny;  I750y^ 

A  dagon  of  your  blanket,  leve  dame,         ^ 
Our  suster  dere,  lo !   here  I  write   your 

name; 
Bacon  or  beef,  or  swich  thing  as  ye  finde. 
A  sturdy  harlot  wente  ay  hem  bihinde, 
That  was   hir   hostes   man,   and    bar    a 

sak,  1755 

And  what  men  yaf  hem,  leyde  it  on  his 

bak. 
And  whan  that  he  was  out  at  dore  anon. 
He  planed  avvey  the  names  everichon 
That  he  biforn  had  writen  in  his  tables; 
He  served    hem   with    nyfles    and   with 

fables.  1760 

'  Nay,  ther  thou  lixt,  thou  Somnour,' 

quod  the  Frere. 
'  Pees,'   quod    our    Host,   '  for   Cristes 

moder  dere; 
Tel  forth  thy  tale  and  spare  it  nat  at  al.' 
So  thryve  I,  quod    this   Som.nour,  so    I 

shall.  — 
So  longe  he  wente  hous  by  hous,  til 

he  1765 

Cam  til  an  hous  ther  he  was  wont  to  be 
Refresshed    more   than  in   an    hundred 

placis.      » 
Sik   lay  the  gode  man,  whos   that   the 

place  is; 
Bedrede  up-on  a  couche  lowe  he  lay. 
'  Deus  hic,^  quod  he,  'O  Thomas,  freend, 

good  day,'  177° 

Seyde  this  frere  curteisly  and  softe. 
'  Thomas,'  quod  he,  '  god  yelde  yow  !  ful 

ofte 
Have  I  up-on  this  bench  faren  ful  weel. 


I774-I843-] 


D.     THE   SOMNOURS   TAI.E. 


64^ 


Mere  have  I  eten  many  a  mery  meel'; 
And   fro  the   benclj  he  droof   awey   the 

cat,  1775 

And    levde  adoun   his    potcr^te    and    his 

hat,  -X-^ 

And  eek  his  scrippe,  and  sette  him  softe 

adoun. 
His  felawe  was  go  walked  in-to  toun. 
Forth  with  his  knave,  into  that  hostelrye 
Wher-as    he  shotip  him  thilke  night   to 

lye.  17S0 

'  O  dere  maister,'  quod  this  syke  man, 
'  How  han  he  fare  sith  that  March  higan? 
I    saugh    yow  noght  this  fourtenight  or 

more.' 
'  God  woot,'  quod  he,  '  laboured  have  I 

ful  sore; 
And  specially,  for  thy  savacioun        1785 
Have  I  seyd  many  a  precious  orisoun 
And    for  our   othere   frendes,  god    hem 

blesse ! 
I  have  to-day  been  at   your  chirche  at 

messe, 
And  seyd  a  sermon  after  my  simple  wit, 
Nat  al  after  the  text  of  holy  writ;       1790 
For  it  is  hard  to  yow,  as  I  suppose, 
And   therfore  wol   I    teche   yow   al   the 

glose. 
Glosinge  is  a  glorious  thing,  certeyn, 

leltn 

■  ha\ 

ble,  1795 

And  spende  hir  good  ther  it  is  resonable. 
And  ther  I  saugh  our  dame;   a!  wher  is 

she  ? ' 
'  Yond  in  the  yerd  I  trowe  that  she  be,' 
Seyde  this  man, '  and  she  wol  come  anon.' 
'  Ey,  maister  !  wel-come  be  ye,  by  seint 

lohn!'  iSoo 

Seyde  this  wyf,  'how  fare  ye  hertely?' 

The  frere  aryseth  up  ful  curteisly, 
And  hir  embraceth  in  his  amies  narwe. 
And  kiste  hir  swete,  and  chirketh  as  a 

sparwe 
With  his  lippes :  '  dame,'  quod  he, '  right 

weel,  1805 

As  he  that  is  your  servant  every  deel. 
Thanked  be  god,  that  yow  yaf  soule  and 

lyf, 

Vet  saugh  I  nat  this  day  so  fair  a  wyf 
In  al  the  chirche,  god  so  save  me  ! ' 
'  Ye,  god  amende  defautes,  sir,'  quod 
she,  1810 


-,^r      For  leltre  sleeth,  so  as  we  clerkes  seyn 
Ther  have  I  taught  hem  to  be  charita 


*  Algates  wel-come  be  ye,  by  my  fey  ! ' 
'  CJraunt  mercy  dame,  this  have  I  founde 

alvvey. 
Hut  of  your  grete  goodnesse,  by  your  leve, 
1    wolde    prey   yow    that    ye    nat   yow 

greve, 
I  wol  with  Thomas  speke  a  litel  throwe. 
Thise    curats    been    ful    necligcnt    and 

slowe  181 6 

To  grope  tendrely  a  conscience. 
In  shrift,  in  preching  is  my  diligence. 
And   studie    in    Petres   wonles,    and    in 

Poules. 
I    walke,    and    fisshe    Cristen    mennes 

soules,  1820 

To  yelden  lesu  Crist  his  propre  rente; 
To  sprede   his  word  is  set  al  myn  en- 
tente.' 
'  Now,  by  your  leve,  o  dere  sir,'  quod 

she, 
'  Chydeth  him  weel,  for  seinte  Trinitee. 
He  is  as  angry  as  a  pissemyre,  1825 

Though    that   he   have   al    that   he    can 

desyre. 
Though  I  him  wrye  a-night  and   niake^ 

him  warm. 
And   on  hym  leye   my  leg  outher  myn 

arm, 
He  groneth  lyk  our  boor,  lyth  in  our  sty. 
Other  desport  right  noon  of  him  have  I; 
I    may   nat    plese    him    in    no    maner 

cas.'  1 83 1 

'  O   Thomas !    /e   vous    dy,   Thomas ! 

Thomas ! 
This  maketh  the  feend,  this  moste  ben 

amended. 
Ire  is  a  thing  that  hye  god  defended 
And   ther-of  wol    I    speke    a   word    or 

two.'  1835 

'  Now  maister,'  quod  the  wyf.  '  er  that 

I  go, 
What   wol   ye   dyne?     I    wol   go   ther- 

alDoute.' 
'Now  dame,'   quod    he,  'A*   voiis   dy 

sanz  donte. 
Have  I  nat  of  a  capon  but  the  livere 
And    of    your   softe    breed    nat    but    a 

shivere,  1840 

And  after  that  a  rosted  pigges  heed, 
(But  that  I  nolde  no  beest  for  me  were 

deed), 
Thanne  hadde  I  with  yow  hoomly  suffis- 

aunce. 


644 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1S44-1917. 


I  am  a  man  of  litel  sustenaunce.         1844 
My  spirit  hath  his  fostring  in  the  Bible. 
The  body  is  ay  so  redy  and  penyble 
To  wake,  that  my  stomak  is  destroyed. 
I  prey  yow,  dame,  ye  be  nat  anoyed, 
Though   I  so   freendly  yow    my   conseil 

shewe; 
By  god,  I  wolde  nat  telle  it  but  a  fewe.' 
'  Now,  sir,'  quod  she,  '  but  o  word  er 

I  go;  1851 

My  child  is  deed  with-inne  thise  wykes 

two, 
Sone   after  that   ye   wente   out   of   this 

toun.' 
'  His  deeth  saugh  I  by  revelacioun,' 
Seith  this  frere,  '  at   hoom   in   our  dor- 
tour. 1855 
I  dar  wel  seyn  that,  er  that  half  an  hour 
After  his  deeth,  I   saugh  him  born   to 

blisse 
In  myn  avisioun,  so  god  me  wisse  ! 
So  dide  our  sexteyn  and  our  fermerer, 
That  han  been  trewe  freres  fifty  yeer; 
They  may  now,  god  be  thanked  of  his 

lone,  1861 

Maken  hir  lubilee  and  walke  allone. 
And  up  I  roos,  and  al  our  covent  eke, 
With  many  a  tere  trikling  on  my  cheke, 
Withouten  noyse  or  clateringe  of  belles; 
Te  deuni    was   our    song    and    no-thing 

elles,  1866 

Save  that  to  Crist  I  seyde  an  orisoun, 
Thankinge  him  of  his  revelacioun. 
For  sir  and  dame,  trusteth  me  right  weel, 
Our  orisons  been  more  effectueel,     1870 
And   more   we   seen   of    Cristes    secree 

thinges 
^,   ^^-.'^  Than   burel  folk,  al-though  they  weren 
^  kinges. 

We  live  in  povert  and  in  abstinence. 
And  burel  folk  in  richesse  and  despence 
Of  mete    and    drinke,    and    in    hir  foul 

delyt.  1875 

We  han  this  worldes  lust  al  in  despyt. 
Lazar  and  Dives  liveden  diversly, 
And  diverse  guerdon  hadden  they  ther- 

by. 
Who-so  wol  preye,  he  moot  faste  and  be 

clene. 
And  fatte  his  soule  and  make  his  body 

lene.  1880 

We  fare  as  seith   thapostle;    cloth    and 

fode 


Suffysen  us,  though  they  be  nat  ful  gode. 
The    clennesse    and  ^he    fastinge    of  us 

freres 
Maketh  that  Crist  accepteth  our  preyeres. 
Lo,   Moyses    fourty   dayes    and    fourty 
night  1885 

Fasted,  er  that  the  heighe  god  of  might 
Spak  with  him  in  the  mountain  of  Sinay. 
With    empty   wombe,    fastinge    many   a 

day, 
Receyved  he  the  lawe  that  was  writen 
With  goddess  finger;    and  Elie,  wel  ye 
witen,  1890 

In  mount  Oreb,  er  he  hadde  any  speche 
With  hye  god,  that  is  our  lyves  leche, 
He   fasted    longe    and   was   in   contem- 
plaunce. 
Aaron,  that  hadde  the  temple  in  gov- 
ernaunce,  1894 

And  eek  the  othere  preestes  everichon, 
In-to  the  temple  whan  they  sholde  gon 
To  preye  for  the  peple,  and  do  servyse, 
They  nolden  drinken,  in  no  maner  wyse, 
No    drinke,    which    that    mighte    hem 

dronke  make. 
But     there    in     abstinence    preye     and 
wake  1900 

Lest  that  they  deyden;   tak  heed  what  I 

seye. 
But   they  be   sobre  that   for   the   peple 

preye. 
War  that  I  seye,  —  namore  !  for  it  suffys- 

eth. 
Our  lord  lesu,  as  holy  writ  devyseth, 
Yaf  us  ensample  of  fastinge  and  prey- 
eres. 1905 
Therfor  we  mendinants,  we  sely  freres, 
Been  wedded  to  poverte  and  continence. 
To  charitee,  humblesse,  and  abstinence, 
To  persecucion  for  rightwisnesse. 
To    wepinge,     misericorde,     and     clen- 
nesse. 1910 
And  therfor  may  ye  see  that  our  prey- 
eres— 
I    speke    of    us,    we     mendinants,    we 

freres  — 
Ben  to  the  hye  god  more  acceptable 
Than   youres,    with  your   festes    at    the 

table. 
Fro  Paradys,  first,  if  I  shal  nat  lye,    191 5 
Was  man  out  chaced  for  his  glotonye; 
And   chaast  was   man   in   Paradys,  cer- 
teyn. 


19I8-I988.] 


D.    THE   SOMNOURS   TALE. 


645 


But  herkne  now,  Thomas,  what  I  shall 
seyn. 
I  ne  have  no  text  of  it,  as  I  suppose, 
But  I  shall  linde  it  in  a  nianer  glose,    1920 
That  specially  our  swete  lord  lesus 
Spak  this  by  freres,  whan  he  seyde  thus : 
"Blessed    be   they   that  povre    in   spirit 

been." 
And  so  forth  al  the  gospel  may  ye  seen, 
Wher  it  be  lyker  our  professioun,       1925 
Or  hirs  that  swimmen  in  possessioun. 
Fy  on  hir  pompe  and  on  hir  glotonye  ! 
And  for  hir  Icwednesse  I  hem  diffye. 

Me  thinkcth  they  ben  lyk  lovinian. 
Fat    as    a   whale,    and    walkinge    as    a 
swan;  "930 

Al  vinolent  as  hotel  in  the  spence. 
Hir  preyer  is  of  ful  gret  reverence; 
Whan  they  for  soules  seye  the  psalm  of 

Davit, 
Lo,  "buf!  "  they  seye  "cor  meum  eruc- 

Who    folweth    Cristes    gospel    and    his 

fore,  1935 

But  we  that  humble  been  and  chast  and 

pore, 
Werkers  of  goddes  word,  not  auditours  ? 
Therfore,  right  as  an  hauk  up,  at  a  sours, 
Up  springeth  in-to  their,  right  so  prayeres 
Of  charitable  and  chaste  bisy  freres  1940 
Maken  hir  sours  to  goddes  eres  two. 
Thomas  !    Thomas  !    so  mote  I  ryde  or 

go. 

And   by  that   lord    that    clepid   is   semt 

Yve, 
Nere  thou  our  brother,  sholdestou    nat 

thryve  ! 
In    our    chapitre     praye    we    day    and 

night  1945 

To  Crist,  that  he  thee  sende  hele  and 

might. 
Thy  body  for  to  welden  hastily.' 

'God  woot,'  quod  he,  'no-thing  ther-of 

fele  I  ; 
As  help  me  Crist,  as  I,  in  fewe  yeres, 
Han     spended,     up-on     dyvers     maner 

freres,  1950 

Ful  many  a  pound  ;  yet  fare  I  never  the 

bet. 
Certeyn,  my  good  have  I  almost  biset. 
Farwel,  my  gold  !    for  it  is  al  ago  ! ' 
The     frere     answerde,     '  O    Thomas, 

dostow  so  ? 


What      nedeth      yow      diverse      freres 

seche  ?  1955 

What   nedeth    him    that    hath   a   partit 

leche 
To  sechen  othere  leches  in  the  toun  ? 
Your  inconstance  is  your  confusioun. 
Holde  ye  than  me,  or  elles  our  covent, 
To  praye  for  yow  ben  insufficient?     i960 
Thomas,  that  lape  nis  nat  worth  a  myte; 
Your  maladye  is  for  we  han  to  lyte. 
"  A !    yif    that    covent    half    a    quarter 

otes  !  " 
"  A !    yif   that   covent    four  and  twenty 

grotes  !  " 
"A!   yif  that  frere  a  peny,  and  lat  him 

go  !  "  1965 

Nay,  nay,  Thomas!  it  may  no-thing  be 

so. 
What    is   a    ferthing  worth    parted    in 

twelve  ? 
Lo,  ech  thing  that  is  oned  in  him-selve 
Is  more  strong  than  whan  it  is  to-scat- 

ered. 
Thomas,  of  me  thou  shalt  nat  been  y- 

flatered  ;  1970 

Thou    woldest    han    our    labour  al    for 

noght. 
The   hye  god,   that   al   this  world   hath 

wroght, 
Seith  that   the  werkman  worthy  is   his 

hyre. 
Thomas  !  noght  of  your  tresor  I  desyre 
As  for  my-self,  but  that  al  our  covent 
To  preye  for  yow  is  ay  so  diligent,     1976 
And  for  to  builden  Cristes  owene  chirche. 
Thomas  !  if  ye  wol  lernen  for  to  wirche. 
Of   buildinge    up    of    chirches    may    ye 

finde 
If    it     be    good,     in    Thomas    lyf    of 

Inde.  1980 

Ye  lye  heer,  ful  of  anger  and  of  yre. 
With    which   the    devel   set   your    herte 

a-fyre. 
And  chyden  heer  this  sely  innocent. 
Your  wyf,  that  is  so  meke  and  pacient. 
And  therfor,  Thomas,  trowe  me  if  thee 

leste,  1985 

Ne  stryve  nat  with   thy  wyf,  as  for  thy 

beste  ; 
And   ber   this  word    awey  now,  by    thy 

feith, 
Touchinge  this  thing,  lo  what  the  wyse 

seith  : 


646 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1989-2063. 


"  With-in    thyn    hous    ne    be    thou    no 

leouii  ; 
To     thy     subgits      do      noon      oppres- 

sioun  ;  1990 

Ne    make    thyne    aqueyntances    nat    to 

flee." 
And  Thomas,  yet  eft-sones  I  charge  thee, 
Be   war   from    hir   that    in    thy    bosom 

slepeth  ; 
War  fro  the  serpent  that  so  slyly  crepeth 
Under     the     gras,    and     stingeth     sub- 

tilly.  1995 

Be  war,  my  sone,  and  herkne  paciently, 
That  twenty  thousand  men  han  lost  hir 

lyves, 
For  stryving  with   hir  lemmans  and  hir 

wyves. 
Now  sith  ye  han  so  holy  and  meke  a 

wyf. 
What   nedeth   yow,  Thomas,  to   maken 

stryf  ?  2000 

Ther  nis,  y-wis,  no  serpent  so  cruel, 
Whan  man  tret  on  his  tayl,  ne  half  so 

fel, 
As-woman  is,  whan  she  hath  caught  an 

ire  ; 
Vengeance  is  thanne  al  that  they  desyre. 
Ire    is    a    sinne,   oon    of    the   grete    of 

sevene,  2005 

Abhominable  un-to  the  god  of  hevene  ; 
And  to  him-self  it  is  destruccion. 
This'every  lewed  viker  or  person 
Can  seye,  how  Ire  engendreth  homicyde. 
Ire  is,  in  sooth,  executour  of  pryde.   2010 
I  coude  of  Ire  seye  so  muche  sorwe. 
My  tale  sholde  laste  til  to-morwe. 
And  therfor  preye  I  god  bothe  day  and 

night. 
An  irous  man,  god  sende  him  litel  might ! 
It  is  greet  harm  and,  certes,  gret  pitee. 
To    sette    an    irous    man    in    heigh    de- 
gree. 2016 
Whilom  ther  was  an  irous  potestat. 
As  seith  Senek,  that,  duringe  his  estaat, 
Up-on  a  day  out  riden  knightes  two, 
And  as  fortune  wolde  that  it  were  so,  2020 
That  oon  of  hem  caai   hoom,  that  other 

noght. 
Anon  the  knight  bifore  the  luge  is  broght, 
That  seyde  thus,  'thou  hast  thy  felawe 

slayn. 
For  which  I  deme  thee  to  the  deeth,  cer- 

tayn.' 


And  to  another  knight  comanded  he,  2025 
'  Go  lede  him  to  the  deeth,  I  charge  thee.' 
And  happed,  as  they  wente  by  the  weye 
Toward  the  place  ther  he  sholde  deye. 
The  knight  cam,  which  men  wenden  had 

be  deed. 
Thanne  thoughte  they,  it  was  the  beste 

reed,  2030 

To  lede  hem  bothe  to  the  luge  agayn. 
They  seiden,  '  lord,  the  knight  ne  hath 

nat  slayn 
His  felawe;   here  he  standeth  hool  alyve.' 
'  Ye  shul  be  deed,'  quod  he,  '  so  moot  I 

thryve ! 
That  is  to  seyn,  bothe  oon,  and  two,  and 

three ! '  2035 

And  to  the  firste  knight  right  thus  spak 

he, 
'  I   dampned  thee,  thou  most  algate  be 

deed. 
And  thou  also  most  nedes  lese  thyn  heed, 
For  thou  art  cause  why  thy  felawe  deyth.' 
And  to  the  thridde  knight  right  thus  he 

seyth,  2040 

'Thou  hast  nat  doon  that  I  comanded 

thee.' 
And   thus  he  dide   don  sleen  hem  alle 

three. 
Irous  Cambyses  was  eek  dronkelewe, 
And  ay  delyted  him  to  been  a  shrewe. 
And  so  bifel,  a  lord  of  his  meynee     2045 
That  lovede  vertuous  moralitee, 
Seyde  on  a  day  bitwix  hem  two  right 

thus : 
'  A  lord  is  lost,  if  he  be  vicious; 
And  dronkenesse  is  eek  a  foul  record 
Of  any  man,  and  namely  in  a  lord.    2050 
Ther  is  ful  many  an  eye  and  many  an  ere 
Awaiting  on  a  lord,  and  he  noot  where. 
For  goddes  love,  drink  more  attemprely; 
Wyn  waketh  man  to  lesen  wrecchedly 
His  minde,  and  eek  his  limes  everichon.' 
'  The    revers    shaltou    se,'    quod    he, 

'anon;  2056 

And  preve  it,  by  thyn  owene  experience. 
That    wyn    ne    dooth   to  folk    no    swich 

offence. 
Ther  is  no  wyn  bireveth  me  my  might 
Of  hand  ne  foot,  ne  of  myn  eyen  sight '  — 
And,   for    despyt,  he    drank   ful    muchcl 

more  2061 

An  hondred  part  than  he  had  doon  bifore; 
And  right  anon,  this  irous  cursed  wrecche 


2064-2138.] 


D.    THE   SUMNOUKS  TALE. 


647 


Leet  this  knightes  sone  bifore  him  fecche, 
Coinandinge   him  he  sholde  bifore  him 

stonde.  2065 

And  sotlcynly  he  took  his  bowe  in  honde, 
And  up  the  streng  he  pulled  to  his  ere, 
And  with  an  arwe  he  slow  the  child  right 

there : 
'  Now  whether  have  I  a  siker  hand  or 

noon  ? ' 
Quod   he,  '  is   al  my   might  and  minde 

agoon  ?  ,  2070 

Hath  wyn  bireved  me  myn  eyen  sight?' 
What  sholde  I  telle  thanswere  of  the 

knight? 
His  sone  was  slayn,  ther  is  na-more  to 

seye. 
Beth   war   therfor   with   lordes   how   ye 

pleye. 
Singeth  Placebo,  and  I  shal,  if  I  can,  2075 
l?ut  if  it  be  un-to  a  povre  man. 
To  a  povre  man  men  sholde  hise  vyces 

telle, 
But  nat  to  a  lord,  thogh  he  sholde  go  to 

helle. 
Lo  irous  Cirus,  thilke  Percien, 
How  he  destroyed  the  river  of  Gysen,  2080 
For  that  an  hors  of  his  was  dreynt  ther- 

inne. 
Whan  that  he  wente  Babiloigne  to  winne. 
He  made  that  the  river  was  so  smal, 
That  wominen  mighte  wade  it  over  al. 
Lo,  whatseyde  he,  that  so  wel  teche  can? 
"  Ne  be  no  felawe  to  an  irous  man,  2086 
Ne  with  no  wood  man  walke  by  the  weye. 
Lest  thee  repente;  "  ther  is  na-more  to 

seye. 
Now  Thomas,  leve  brother,  lef  thyn  ire; 
Thou   shalt   me    finde    as   lust   as   is   a 

squire.  2090 

Hold  nat  the   develes  knyf  ay  at   thyn 

herte; 
Thyn  angre  dooth  thee  al  to  sore  smerte; 
But  shewe  to  me  al  thy  confessioun.' 
'  Nay,'  quod  the  syke  man,  '  by  Scint 

Simoun  ! 
I  have  be  shriven  this  day  at  my  curat; 
I  have  him  told  al  hoolly  myn  estat;    2096 
Nedeth  na-more  to  speke  of  it,'  seith  he, 
'  But  if  me  list  of  myn  humilitee.' 

'Yif  me  thanne  of  thy  gold,  to  make 

our  cloistre,' 
Quod  he,  '  for  many  a  muscle  and  many 

an  oistre,  2100 


Whan  other  men  han  ben  ful  wel  at  eyse, 
Hath  been  our  fode,  our  cloistre  for  to 

reyse. 
And  yet,  god  woot,  unnethe  the  fundc- 

ment 
Parfourned  is,  ne  of  our  pavement     2104 
Nis  nat  a  tyle  yet  with-inne  our  wones; 
By  god,  we  owen  fourty  pound  for  stones  ! 
Now  help,  Thomas,  for  him  that  harwed 

helle  ! 
For  elles  moste  we  are  i)okes  selle. 
And  if  ye  lakke  our  predicacioun, 
Than  gooth  the  world  al  to  destruceioun. 
For   who-so   wolde    us    fro    this    world 

bireve,  211 1 

So  god  me  save,  Thomas,  by  your  leve. 
He  wolde  bireve  out  of  this  world  the 

Sonne. 
For  who  can  teche  and  werchcn  as  we 

conne? 
And  that  is  nat  of  litel  tyme,'  quod  he; 
'  But  sith  that  Elie  was,  or  Elisee,      2116 
Han  freres  been,  that  fmde  I  of  record. 
In  charitee,  y-thanked  be  our  lord. 
Now  Thomas,  help,  for  seinte  charitee  ! ' 
And    doun   anon   he    sette   him   on    his 

knee.  2120 

This  syke  man  wex  wel  ny  wood  for 

ire; 
He  wolde  that  the  frere  had  been  on-fire 
With  his  false  dissimulacioun. 
'  Swich  thing  as  is  in  my  possessioun,' 
Quod   he,  '  that  may  I  yeven,  and  non 

other.  2125 

Ye  sey  me   thus,  how  that  I   am   your 

brother?' 
'  Ye,  certes,'  quod  the  frere,  '  trusteth 

weel; 
I  took  our  dame  our  lettre  with  our  seel.' 
'  Now  wel,'  quod  he,  '  and  som-what 

shal  I  yive 
Un-to  your  holy  covent  whyl  I  live,    2130 
And   in    thyn    hand    thou   shalt  it  have 

anoon; 
On  this  condicioun,  and  other  noon. 
That  thou  departe  it  so,  my  dere  brother. 
That  every  frere  have  also  muche  as  other. 
This  shaltou  swere  on  thy  professioun, 
With-outen  fraude  or  cavillacioun.'    2136 
'  I  swere  it,'  quod  this  frere,  '  upon  my 

feith ! ' 
And   ther-with-al    his    hand    in    his    he 

leith : 


648 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2139-2212. 


'  Lo,  heer  my  feith !  in  me  shal  be  no 

lak.' 
*  Now  thanne,  put  thyn  hand  doun  by 

my  bak,'  2140 

Seyde  this  man,  'and  grope  wel  bihinde; 
Bynethie  my  buttok  ther  shallow  finde 
A  thing  that  I  have 'hid  in  privetee.' 
'A!'  thoghte  this  frere,  'this  shal  go 

with  me  !  ' 
And  doun  his  hand  he  launcheth  to  the 

clifte,  2145 

In  hope  for  to  finde  ther  a  yifte. 
And  whan  this  syke  man  felte  this  frere 
Aboute  his  tuwel  grope  there  and  here, 
Amidde  his  hand  he  leet  the  frere  a  fart. 
Ther  nis  no  capul,  drawinge  in  a  cart,  2 1 50 
That  mighte  have  lete  a  fart  of  swich  a 

soun. 
'The  frere  up  stirte  as  doth  a  wood 

leoun : 
•  A !    false  cherl,'  quod  he,  '  for   goddes 

bones, 
This    hastow   for   despyt   doon,   for   the 

nones ! 
Thou  shalt  abye  this  fart,  if  that  I  may ! ' 
His  meynee,  whiche  that  herden  this 

affray,  2156 

Cam    lepinge    in,  and    chaced    out    the 

frere; 
And  forth  he   gooth,  with   a  ful   angry 

chere, 
And  fette  his  felawe,  ther-as  lay  his  stoor. 
He  looked  as  it  were  a  vvilde  boor;  2160 
He   grinte   with   his    teeth,    so    was   he 

wrooth. 
A  sturdy  pas  doun  to  the  court  he  gooth, 
Wher-as   ther   woned   a   man    of    greet 

honour. 
To  whom  that  he  was  alwey  confessour; 
This  worthy  man  was  lord  of  that  village. 
This  frere  cam,  as  he  were  in  a  rage,  2166 
Wher-as  this  lord  sat  eting  at  his  bord. 
Unnethes  mighte  the  frere  speke  a  word, 
Til  atte  laste  he  seyde :  '  god  yow  see  ! ' 
This  lord  gan  loke,  and  seide, '  betiedi- 

cite!  2170 

What,  frere  lohn,  what  maner  world  is 

this? 
I  see  wel  that  som  thing  ther  is  amis. 
Ye  loken  as  the  wode  were  ful  of  thevis, 
Sit  doun  anon,  and    tel    me    what    your 

greef  is. 
And  it  shal  be  amended,  if  I  may.'    2175 


'  I  have,'  quod  he,  '  had  a  despyt  this 

day, 
God  yelde  yow !  adoun  in  your  village, 
That  in  this  world  is  noon   so   povre  a 

page. 
That  he  nolde  have  abhominacioun  2179 
Of  that  I  have  receyved  in  your  toun. 
And  yet  ne  greveth  me  no-thing  so  sore, 
As  that  this  olde  cherl,  with  lokkes  hore. 
Blasphemed  hath  our  holy  covent  eke.' 
'  Now,  maister,'  quod  this  lord,  '  I  yow 

biseke.' 
'  No  maister,  sire,'  quod  he,  '  but  servi- 

tour,  2185 

Thogh  I  have  had  in  scole  swich  honour. 
God   lyketh  nat    that    "  Raby "  men    us 

calle, 
Neither  in  market  ne  in  your  large  halle.' 
♦  No    fors,'    quod    he,  '  but    tel    me    al 

your  grief.' 
'  Sire,'  quod  this  frere,  '  an  odious  mes- 

chief  2190 

This  day  bitid  is  to  myn  ordre  and  me, 
And  %o  per  coiisequens  to  ech  degree 
Of  holy  chirche,  god  amende  it  sone  ! ' 
'  Sir,'  quod  the  lord,  '  ye  woot  what  is 

to  done. 
Distempre   yow  noght,  ye    be  my  con- 
fessour; 2195 
Ye  been  the  salt  of  the   erthe   and  the 

savour. 
For  goddes  love  your  pacience  ye  holde ; 
Tel  me   your  grief:'  and  he  anon   him 

tolde. 

As  ye  han  herd  biforn,  ye  woot  wel  what. 

The  lady  of  the  hous  ay  stille  sat,  2200 

Til  she  had  herd  al  what  the  frere  sayde : 

'  Ey,  goddes  moder,'    quod  she,  '  blisful 

mayde ! 
Is  ther  oght  elles?  telle  me  feithfully.' 
'  Madame,'   quod   he,  '  how    thinketh 

yow  her-by? ' 
'How  that  me  thinketh?'  quod  she; 

'so  god  me  speede,  2205 

I  seye,  a  cherl  hath  doon  a  cherles  dede. 
What  shold  I  seye?  god  lat  him  never 

thee! 
His  syke  heed  is  ful  of  vanitee, 
I  hold  him  in  a  maner  frenesye.' 

'  Madame,'  quod  he,'  by  god  I  shal  nat 

lye;  2210 

But  I  on  other  weyes  may  be  wreke, 
I  shal  diffame  him  over-al  ther  I  speke. 


2213-2288.] 


D.    THE   SOMNOURS  TALE. 


649 


This    false    blasphemour,    that    charged 

me 
To  parte  that  wol  nat  departed  be,    2214 
To  every  man  y-liche,  with  meschaunce  !  ' 
The  lord  sat    stille    as    he  were    in    a 

traunce, 
And  in  his  herte  he  rolled  up  and  doun, 
'  How  hadde  this  cherl  imaginacioun 
To  shewe  swich  a  prohleme  to  the  frere  ? 
Never    erst    er    now    herde    I    of    swich 

matere;  2220 

I  trowe  the  devel  putte  it  in  his  minde. 
In  ars-metryke  shal  thcr  no  man  finde, 
Biforn  this  day,  of  swich  a  questioun. 
Who  sholde  make  a  demonstracioun, 
That  every  man  sholde  have  y-liche  his 

part  2225 

As  of  the  soun  or  savour  of  a  fart? 

0  nyce  proude  cherl,  I  shrewe  his  face ! 

'  Lo,  sires,'  quod    the    lord,    with   harde 

grace, 
'  Who  ever  herde  of  swich    a   thing  er 

now? 
To  every  man  y-lyke?  tel  me  how?  2230 
It  is  an  inpossible,  it  may  nat  be ! 
Ey,  nyce  cherl,  god  lete  him  never  thee ! 
The  rurablinge  of  a  fart,  and  every  soun, 
Nis  l)ut  of  eir  reverberacioun,  2234 

And  ever  it  wasteth  lyte  and  lyte  awey. 
Ther  is  no  man  can  demen,  by  my  fey. 
If  that  it  were  departed  equally. 
What,  lo,  my  cherl,  lo,  yet  how  shrewedly 
Un-to  my  confessour  to-day  he  spak  ! 

1  holde  him  certeyn  a  demoniak  !      2240 
Now  ete  your  mete,  and  lat  the  cherl  go 

pleye, 
Lat  him  go  honge  himself,  a  devel  weye  ! ' 
Now  stood   the   lordes  squyer  at  the 

bord. 
That  carf  his  mete,  and  herde,  word  by 

word, 
Of  alle   thinges   of    which  I    have  yow 

sayd.  2245 

'  My  lord,'    quod   he,   '  be   ye   nat   yvel 

apayd ; 
I  coude  telle,  for  a  goune-clooth. 
To  yow,  sir  frere,  so  ye  be  nat  wrooth. 
How  that  this  fart  sholde  even  deled  be 
Among  your  covent,  if  it  lyked  me.'   2250 
'  Tel,'  quod  the  lord,  '  and  thou  shalt 

have  anon 
A   goune-cloth,   by   god    and    by    Seint 

lohn ! ' 


'  My   lord,'  quod  he,  '  whan  that  the 

weder  is  fair, 
With-outen  wind  or  perturbinge  of  air, 
Lat  bringe  a  cartwheel   here   in-to    this 

halle,  2255 

But  loke  that  it  have  his  spokes  alle. 
Twelf  spokes  hath  a  cartwheel  comunly. 
And  bring  me    than    twelf   freres,   woot 

ye  why? 
For  thrittene  is  a  covent,  as  I  gesse. 
The  confessour  heer,  for  his  worthinesse, 
Shal    parfourne    up    the    nombre   of  his 

covent.  2261 

Than    shal    they   knele    doun,   by   con 

assent. 
And    to    every    spokes    ende,    in     this 

manere, 
Ful  sadly  leye  his  nose  shal  a  frere. 
Your   noble   confessour,    ther   god    him 

save,  2265 

Shal  holde  his  nose  upright,  under  the 

nave. 
Than  shal  this  cherl,  with  bely  stif  and 

toght 
As  any  tabour,  hider  been  y-broght; 
And    sette    him    on    the  wheel    right    of 

this  cart, 
Upon  the    nave,  and  make    him   lete   a 

fart.  2270 

And  ye  shul  seen,  up  peril  of  my  lyf. 
By  preve  which  that  is  demonstratif, 
That  equally  the  soun  of  it  wol  wende, 
And    eek    the    stink,    un-to    the   spokes 

ende; 
Save    that  this  worthy  man,   your   con- 
fessour, 2275 
By-cause  he  is  a  man  of  greet  honour, 
Shal  have  the  firste  fruit,  as  reson  is; 
The  noble  usage  of  freres  yet  is  this. 
The    worthy  men   of   him    shul    first    be 

served;  2279 

And  certeinly,  he  hath  it  weel  deserved. 
He    hath   to-day    taught   us   so   muchel 

good 
With    preching   in   the   pulpit    ther    he 

stood, 
That  I  may  vouche-sauf,  I  sey  for  me. 
He  hadde  the  firste  smel  of  fartcs  three. 
And  so  wolde  al  his  covent  hardily;  2285 
He  bereth  him  so  faire  and  holily.' 
The  lord,  the  lady,  and  ech  man,  save 

the  frere, 
Seyde  that  lankin  spak,  in  this  matere, 


650 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2289-2294.    1-56. 


As  wel  as  Euclide  or  [as]  Ptholoinee. 
Touchinge    this    cherl,   they  seyde,  sub- 

tiltee  2290 

And  heigh  wit  made  him  speken  as  he 

spak; 


He  nis  no  fool,  ne  no  demoniak. 

And    lankin     hath     y-wonne     a     newc 

goune.  — 
My   tale   is   doon;  we   been    almost   at 

toune.  2294 


Here  endeth  the  Somnours  Tale, 

GROUP   E. 
THE  CLERK'S   PROLOGUE. 


Here  folweth  the  Prologe  of  the  Clerkes 
Tale  of  Oxenford. 

'  Sir  clerk  of  Oxenford,'  our  hoste  sayde, 
'  Ye  ryde  as  coy  and  stille  as  dooth  a 

mayde, 
Were  newe  spoused,  sitting  at  the  bord; 
This  day  ne  herde  I  of  your  tonge  a  word. 
I  trowe  ye  studie  aboute  som  sophyme,  5 
But   Salomon   seith,  "  every  thing  hath 
tyme." 
For  goddes  sake,  as  beth  of  bettre  chere, 
It  is  no  tyme  for  to  studien  here. 
Telle  us  som  mery  tale,  by  your  fey; 
For  what  man  that  is  entred  in  a  pley,  lO 
He  nedes  moot  unto  the  pley  assente. 
But  precheth  nat,  as  freres  doon  in  Lente, 
To  make  us  for  our  olde  sinnes  wepe, 
Ne  that  thy  tale  make  us  nat  to  slepe. 
Telle   us   som    mery   thing    of    aven- 
tures;  —  15 

Your  termes,  your  colours,  and  your  fig- 
ures, 
Kepe  hem  in  stoor  til  so  be  ye  endyte 
Heigh  style,  as  whan  that  men  to  kinges 

wryte. 
Speketh  so  pleyn  at  this  tyme,  I  yow 

preye, 
Thatwemay  understondewhatyeseye.'  20 
This  worthy  clerk  benignely  answerde, 
'  Hoste,'  quod  he, '  I  am  under  your  yerde; 
Ye  han  of  us  as  now  the  governaunce. 
And  therfor  wol  I  do  yow  obeisaunce, 
As  fer  as  reson  axeth,  hardily.  25 

I  wol  yow  telle  a  tale  which  that  I 


Lerned  at  Padowe  of  a  worthy  clerk. 
As  preved  by  his  wordes  and  his  werk. 
He  is  now  deed  and  nayled  in  his  cheste, 
I  prey  to  god  so  yeve  his  soule  reste  !    30 

Fraunceys  Petrark,  the  laureat  poete, 
Highte  this  clerk,  whos  rethoryke  sweete 
Enlumined  al  Itaille  of  poetrye. 
As  Linian  dide  of  philosophye 
Or  lawe,  or  other  art  particuler;  35 

But  deeth,  that  wol  nat  suffre  us  dwellen 

heer 
But  as  it  were  a  twinkling  of  an  ye. 
Hem  bothe  hath  slayn,  and  alle  shul  we 

dye. 
But  forth  to  tellen  of  this  worthy  man. 
That  taught    me  this  tale,  as  I  bigan,  40 
I  seye  that  first  with  heigh  style  he  en- 

dyteth, 
Er  he  the  body  of  his  tale  wryteth, 
A  proheme,  in  the  which  discryveth  he 
Pemond,  and  of  Saluces  the  contree, 
And  speketh  of  Apennyn,  the  hilles  hye,  45 
That   been   the   boundes   of  West   Lum- 

bardye, 
And  of  Mount  Vesulus  in  special, 
Where  as  the  Poo,  out  of  a  welle  smal, 
Taketh  his  firste  springing  and  his  sours, 
That  estward  ay  encresseth  in  his  cours  50 
To  Emelward,  to  Ferrare,  and  Venyse  : 
The  which  a  long  thing  were  to  devyse. 
And  trewely,  as  to  my  lugement. 
Me  thinketh  it  a  thing  impertinent. 
Save  that  he  wol  conveyen  his  matere  :  55 
But   this   his   tale,    which   that  ye   may 

here.' 


^' 


57-'25-] 


E.     THE  ("LERKES    TALE. 


651 


THE   CLERKES   TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Tale  of  the  Clerk  of 
Oxcnford. 

TiiKK  is,  at  the  west  syde  of  Itaille, 
Douii  at  the  rote  of  V'esulus  the  coldc, 
A  lusty  playne,  habundant  of  vitaille, 
Wher  many  a  tour  and  toun  thou  inayst 
biholde,  60 

That  founded  were  in  tyme  of  fadres  olde, 
And  many  another  delitable  sighte, 
And  Saluces  this  noble  contree  highte. 

A  markis  whylom  lord  was  of  that  londe, 
As  were  his  worthy  eldres  him  bifore;  65 
And  obeisant  and  redy  to  his  honde 
Were  alle  his  liges,  bothe  lasse  and  more. 
Thus  in  delyt  he  liveth,  and  hath  don  yore, 
Biloved  and  drad,  thurgh  favour  of  fortune, 
Bothe  of  his  lordes  and  of  his  commune.  70 

Therwith  he  was,  to  speke  as  of  linage, 
The  gentilleste  y-born  of  Lumbardye, 
A  fair  persone,  and  strong,  and  yong  of 

age, 
And  ful  of  honour  and  of  curteisye; 
Discreet  y-nogh  his  contree  for  to  gye,  75 
Save  in  somme    thinges  that  he  was  to 

blame. 
And  Walter  was  this  yonge  lordes  name. 

I  blame   him    thus,  that  he  considereth 

noght 
In  tyme  cominge  what  mighte  him  bityde, 
But  on  his  lust  present  was  al  his  thoght,  80 
As  for  to  hauke  and  hunte  on  every  syde ; 
Wei  ny  alle  othere  cures  leet  he  slyde, 
And  eek  he  nolde,  and  that  was  worst  of 

alle, 
Wedde  no  wyf,  for  noght  that  may  bifalle. 

Only  that  point  his  peple  bar  so  sore,  85 
That  flokmele  on  a  day  they  to  him  wente. 
And  oon  of  hem,  that  wysest  was  of  lore. 
Or  elles  that  the  lord  best  wolde  assente 
That  he  sholde  telle  him  what  his  peple 

mente, 
Or  elles  coude  he  shewe  wel  swich  mat- 

ere,  90 

He  to  the  markis  seyde  as  ye  shul  here. 


'  O  noble  markis,  your  humanitee 
Assureth  us  and  yeveth  us  hardinesse. 
As  ofte  as  tyme  is  of  necessitee 
That  we  to  yow  mowe    telle    our    hevi- 

nesse;  95 

Acccpteth,  lord,  now  for  your  gentillesse, 
That  we    with    pitous   herte    un-to   yow 

pleyne, 
And  lete  your  eres  nat  my  voys  disdeyne. 

Al  have  I  noght  to  done  in  this  matere 
More   than    another   man   hath    in   this 

place,  100 

Yet  for  as  muche  as  ye,  my  lord  so  dere, 
Han  alwey  shewed  me  favour  and  grace, 
I  dar  the  better  aske  of  yow  a  space 
Of  audience,  to  shewen  our  requeste, 
And  ye,  my  lord,  to  doon  right  as  yow 

leste.  105 

For  certes,  lord,  so  wel  us  lyketh  yow 
And  al  your  werk  and  ever  han  doon, 

that  we 
Ne  coude  nat  us  self  devysen  how 
We  mighte  liven  in  more  felicitee. 
Save  o  thing,  lord,  if  it  your  willc  be,  1 10 
That    for    to  been  a  wedded  man  yow 

leste, 
Than  were  your  peple  in  sovereyn  hertes 

reste. 

Boweth  your  nekke  under  that  blisful  yok 
Of  soveraynetee,  noght  of  servyse. 
Which  that   men  clepeth   spousaille    or 

wedlok;  115 

And  thenketh,  lord,  among  your  thoghtes 

wyse, 
How  that  our  dayes  passe  in  sondry  wyse; 
For  though  we  slepe  or  wake,  or  rome, 

or  ryde. 
Ay  fleeth  the  tyme,  it  nil  no  man  abyde. 

And  though  your  grene  youthe  floure  as 
yit,  120 

In  crepeth  age  alwey,  as  stille  as  stoon. 
And  deeth  manaceth  every  age,  and  smit 
In  ech  estaat,  for  ther  escapeth  noon  : 
And  al  so  certein  as  we  knowe  echoon 
That  we  shul  deye,  as  uncerteyn  we  alle 


652 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[126-196. 


Been  of  that  day  whan  death  shal  on  us 
falle.  •  126 

Accepteth  than  of  us  the  trewe  entente, 
That  never  yet  refuseden  your  heste, 
And  we  wol,  lord,  if  that  ye  wol  assente, 
Chese    yow    a   wyf  in   short   tyme,  atte 
leste,  1 30 

Born  of  the  gentilleste  and  of  the  meste 
Of  al  this  lond,  so  that  it  oghte  seme 
Honour  to  god  and  yow,  as  we  can  deme. 

Deliver  us  out  of  al  this  bisy  drede. 
And  tak  a  wyf,  for  hye  goddes  sake;   135 
For  if  it  so  bifelle,  as  god  forbede, 
That  thurgh  your  deeth  your  linage  sholde 

slake, 
And  that  a  straunge  successour  sholde 

take 
Your  heritage,  o  !  wo  were  us  alyve ! 
Wherfor  we  pray  you  hastily  to  wyve.'  140 

Hir  meke  preyere  and  hir  pitous  chere 

Made  the  markis  herte  han  pitee. 

'  Ye   wol,'  quod  he,  '  myn   owene   peple 

dere. 
To  that  I  never  erst  thoghte  streyne  me. 
I  me  reioysed  of  my  libertee,  145 

That  selde  tyme  is  founde  in  mariage; 
Ther  I  was  free,  I  moot  been  in  servage. 

But  nathelees  I  see  your  trewe  entente, 
And  truste  upon  your  wit,  and  have  don 

ay; 
Wherfor  of  my  free  wil  I  wol  assente  150 
To  wedde  me,  as  sone  as  ever  I  may. 
But  ther-as  ye  han  profred  me  to-day 
To  chese  me  a  wyf,  I  yow  relesse 
That  choys,  and  prey  yow  of  that  profre 

cesse. 

FoT  god  it  woot,  that  children  ofte  been 
Unlyk  her  worthy  eldres  hem  bifore;  156 
Bountee    comth    al    of  god,  nat  of  the 

streen 
Of    which    they    been    engendred    and 

y-bore; 
I  truste  in  goddes  bountee,  and  therfore 
My  mariage  and  myn  estaat  and  reste  160 
I  him  bitake;    he  may  don  as  him  leste, 

Lat  me  alone  in  chesinge  of  my  wyf. 
That  charge  up-on  my  bak  I  wol  endure; 


But  I  yow  preye,  and  charge  up-ou  your 

lyf. 

That  what  wyf  that  I  take,  ye  me  assure 

To  worshipe  hir,  whyl  that  hir  lyf  may 
dure,  166 

In  word  and  werk,  bothe  here  and  every- 
where. 

As  she  an  emperoures  doghter  were. 

And  forthermore,  this  shal  ye  swere,  that 

ye 
Agayn  my  choys  shul  neither  grucche  ne 

stryve;  170 

For  sith  I  shal  forgoon  my  libertee 
At  your  requeste,  as  ever  moot  1  thryve, 
Ther  as  myn  herte  is  set,  ther  wol  I  wyve; 
And  but  ye  wole  assente  in  swich  manere, 
I    prey   yow,   speketh   na-more   of   this 

matere.'  175 

With  hertly  wil  they  sworen,  and  assenten 
To  al  this  thing,  ther  seyde  no  wight  nay; 
Bisekinge   him   of   grace,    er   that   they 

wenten. 
That  he  wolde  graunten  hem  a  certein 

day 
Of  his  spousaille,   as  sone  as   ever   he 

may ;  1 80 

For  yet  alwey  the  peple  som-what  dredde 
Lest  that  this  markis  no  wyf  wolde  wedde. 

He  graunted  hem  a  day,  swich  as  him 

leste, 
On  which  he  wolde  be  wedded  sikerly, 
And  seyde,  he  dide  al  this  at  hir  re- 
queste; 185 
And  they,  with  humble  entente,  buxomly, 
Knelinge  up-on  her  knees  ful  reverently 
Him  thanken  alle,  and  thus  they  han  an 

ende 
Of  hir   entente,  and  hoom  agayn  they 
wende. 

And  heer-up-on  he  to  his  oflficeres  190 
Comaundeth  for  the  feste  to  purveye. 
And  to  his  privee  knightes  and  squyeres 
Swich  charge  yaf,  ashim  listeon  hem  leye; 
And  they  to  his  comandement  obeye. 
And  ech  of  hem  doth  al  his  diligence  195 
To  doon  un-to  the  feste  reverence. 

ExJ>licit  prima  pars. 


I97-275-] 


E.    THE   CLERKES   TALE. 


6S3 


hicipit  sccunda  pars. 

Noght  fer  fro  thilke  paleys  honurable 
Ther-as  this  niarkis  shoop  his  mariage, 
Ther  stood  a  throp,  of  site  delitable, 
In  which  that  povre  folk  of  that  village 
Hadden  hir  hestes  and  hir  herbergage,  201^ 
And  of  hir  labour  took  hir  sustenance"^ 
After  that  the  erthe  yaf  hem  haljundance. 

Amonges  thise  povre  folk  ther  dvvelte  a 

man 
\Vhich  that  was  holden  povrest  of  hem 

alle;  205 

But  hye  god  som  tyme  senden  can 
His  grace  in-to  a  litel  oxes  stalle : 
lanicuia  men  of  that  throp  him  calle. 
A    doghter    hadde    he,   fair    y-nogh    to 

sighte,  209 

And  Grisildis  this  yonge  mayden  highte. 

But  for  to  speke  of  vertuous  beautee, 
Than   was   she   con   the   faireste    under 

Sonne; 
For  povreliche  y-fostred  up  was  she, 
No    likerous  lust  was  thurgh  hir  herte 

y-ronne;  214 

Wei  ofter  of  the  welle  than  of  the  tonne 
She  drank,  and  for  she  wolde  vertu  plese, 
She  knew  wel  labour,  but  non  ydel  ese. 

But  thogh  this  mayde  tendre  were  of  age, 

Yet  in  the  brest  of  hir  virginitee 

Ther  was  enclosed  rype  and  sad  corage ; 

And  in  greet  reverence  and  charitee  221 

Hir  olde  povre  fader  fostred  she; 

A  fewe  sheep  spinning  on  feeld  she  kepte, 

She  wolde  noght  been  ydel  til  she  slepte. 

And  whan  she  hoomward  cam,  she  wolde 
bringe  225 

Wortes  or  othere  herbes  tymes  ofte, 
The  whiche  she  shredde  and  seeth   for 

hir  livinge, 
And  made  hir  bed  ful  harde  and  no-thing 

softe ; 
And  ay  she  kepte  hir  fadres  lyf  on-lofte 
With  everich  obeisaunce  and  diligence 
That  child  may  doon  to  fadres  reverence. 

Up-on  Grisilde,  this  povre  creature,     232 
Ful  ofte  sythe  this  markis  sette  his  ye 
As  he  on  hunting  rood  paraventure; 


And    whan    it    fil    that    he    mighte    hir 
espye,  235 

He  noght  with  wantoun  loking  of  folye 
His  yen  caste  on  hir,  but  in  sad  wyse 
Up-on  hir  chere  he  wolde  him  ofte  avysc, 

./i 

■M^^'ommending  in  his  herte  hir  womman- 

hede, 
And  eek  hir  vertu,  passing  any  wight  240 
Of  so  yong  age,  as  wel  in  chere  as  dede. 
For  thogh  the  peple  have  no  greet  insight 
In  vertu,  he  considered  ful  right 
Hir  bountee,  and  disposed  that  he  wolde 
Wedde    hir    only,    if    ever    he    wedde 

sholde.  245 

The  day  of  wedding  cam,  but  no  wight 

can 
Telle  what  womman  that  it  sholde  be; 
For  which    merveille    wondred    many    a 

man. 
And  seyden,  whan  they  were  in  privetee, 
'  Wol  nat  our  lord  yet  leve  his  vanitee?  250 
Wol  he  nat  wedde?  alias,  alias  the  whyle  ! 
Why  wol  he  thus  him-self  and  us  bigyle? ' 

But  nathcles  this  markis  hath  don  make 
Of  gemmes,  set  in  gold  and  in  asure, 
Broches  and  ringes,  for  Grisildis  sake,  255 
And  of  hir  clothing  took  he  the  mesure 
By  a  mayde,  lyk  to  hir  stature, 
And  eek  of  othere  ornamentes  alle 
That  un-to  swich  a  wedding  sholde  falle. 

The  tyme  of  undern  of  the  same  day  260 
Approcheth,  that  this  wedding  sholde  be; 
And  al  the  paleys  put  was  in  array, 
Bothe  halle  and  chambres,  ech  in  his  de- 
gree; 
Houses  of  office  stuffed  with  plentee  264 
Ther  maystowseen  of  deyntevous  vitaille. 
That  may  be  founde,  as  fer  as  last  Itaille. 

This  royal  markis,  richely  arrayed, 
Lordes  and  ladyes  in  his  companye. 
The  whiche  unto  the  feste  were  y-prayed, 
And  of  his  retenue  the  bachelrye,        270 
With  many  a  soun  of  sondry  melodye, 
Un-to  the  village,  of  the  which  I  tolde. 
In  this  array  the  righte  wey  han  holde. 

Grisilde  of  this,  god  woot,  ful  innocent, 
That  for  hir  shapen  was  al  this  array,  275 


654 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[27^352. 


To  fecchen  water  at  a  welle  is  went, 
And  Cometh  hoom  as  sone  as  ever  she 

may. 
For  wel  she  hadde  herd  seyd,  that  thilke 

day 
The  markis   sholde  wedde,  and,   if  she 

mighte. 
She  wolde    fayn  han  seyn  som  of  that 

sighte.  280 

She  thoghte, '  I  wol  with  othere  maydens 

stonde. 
That  been  my  felawes,  in  our  dore,  and 

see 
The  markisesse,  and  therfor  wol  I  fonde 
To  doon  at  hoom,  as  sone  as  it  may  be, 
The  labour  which  that  longeth  un-to  me; 
And  then  I  may  at  leyser  hir  biholde,  286 
If  she  this  wey  un-to  the  castel  holde.' 

And    as  she  wolde    over   hir   threshfold 

goon, 
The  markis  cam  and  gan  hir  for  to  calle; 
And  she  sette  doun  hir  water-pot  anoon 
Bisytle  the  threshfold,  in  an  oxesstalle,  291 
And    doun  up-on   hir  knees  she  gan   to 

falle, 
And  with  sad  contenance  kneleth  stille 
Til  she   had  herd  what  was  the  lordes 

wille. 

This   thoghtful   markis   spak   un-to   this 
mayde  295 

Ful  sobrely,  and  seyde  in  this  manere, 
'  Wher  is  your  fader,  Grisildis  ?'  he  sayde, 
And  she  with  reverence,  in  humble  chere, 
Answerde,  '  lord,  he  is  al  redy  here.' 
And  in  she  gooth  with-outen  lenger  lette, 
And  to  the  markis  she  her  fader  fette.  301 

He  by  the  bond  than  took  this  olde  man. 
And    seyde   thus,   whan   he    him   hadde 

asyde, 
'  lanicula,  I  neither  may  ne  can  304 

Lenger  the  plesance  of  myn  herte  hyde. 
If  that  thou  vouche-sauf,  what-so  bityde. 
Thy  doghter  wol  I  take,  er  that  I  wende, 
As  for  my  wyf,  un-to  hir  lyves  ende. 

Thou  lovest  me,  I  woot  it  wel,  certeyn, 
And  art  my  feithful  lige  man  y-bore;  310 
And  al  that  lyketh  me,  I  dar  wel  seyn 
It  lyketh  thee,  and  specially  therfore 


Tel  me  that  poynt  that  I  have  seyd  bifore, 
If  that  thou  wolt  un-to  that  purpos  drawe, 
To  take  me  as  for  thy  sone-in-lawe  ? '  315 

This  sodeyn  cas  this  man  astoned  so, 
That  reed  he  wex,  abayst,  and  al  quaking 
He  stood;   unnethes  seyde  he  wordes  mo. 
But  only  thus:  '  lord,'  quod  he,  'my  will- 
ing 
Is  as  ye  wole,  ne  ayeines  your  lyking  320 
I  wol  no-thing;  ye  be  my  lord  so  dere; 
Right  as  yow  lust  governeth  this  matere.' 

'  Yet  wol  I,'  quod  this  markis  softely, 
'  That  in  thy  chambre  I  and  thou  and  she 
Have  a  collacion,  and  wostow  why  ?  325 
For  I  wol  axe  if  it  hir  wille  be 
To  be  my  wyf,  and  reule  hir  after  me; 
And  al  this  shal  be  doon  in  thy  presence, 
I  wol  noght  speke  out  of  thyn  audience.' 

And   in   the    chambre   whyl   they   were 
aboute  330 

Hir  tretis,  which  as  ye  shal  after  here, 
The   peple    cam    un-to    the   hous   with- 

oute. 
And  wondred  hem  in  how  honest  manere 
And  tentifly  she  kepte  hir  fader  dere. 
But  outerly  Grisildis  wondre  mighte,   335 
P"or  never  erst  ne  saugh  she  swich  a  sighte. 

No  wonder  is  thogh  that  she  were  astoned 
To    seen   so    greet  a  gest  come    in   that 

place ; 
She  never  was  to  swiche  gestes  woned,  339 
For  which  she  loked  with  ful  pale  face. 
But  shortly  forth  this  tale  for  to  chace, 
Thise    arn   the  wordes   that   the  markis 

sayde 
To  this  benigne  verray  feithful  mayde. 

•  Grisilde,'  he  seyde,  '  ye  shul  wel  under- 

stonde 
It  lyketh  to  your  fader  and  to  me        345 
That  I  yow  wedde,  and  eek  it  may  so 

stonde, 
As  I  suppose,  ye  wol  that  it  so  be. 
But  thise  demandes  axe  I  first,'  quod  he, 

•  That,  sith  it  shal  be  doon  in  hastif  wyse, 
Wol  ye  assente,  or  elles  yow  avyse  ?    350 

I  seye  this,  be  ye  redy  with  good  herte 
To  al  my  lust,  and  that  I  frely  may, 


353-422.] 


E.    THE   CLERKES  TALE. 


655 


As  me  best  thinketh,  do  yow  laughe  or 

smertc, 
And   never    ye    to   grucche   it,   night   ne 

day  ? 
And  eek  whan  I  sey  "ye,"  ne   sey  nat 

"nay,"  355 

Neither  l)y  word  ne  frowning  contenance ; 
Swer  this,  and  here  I  swere  our  alliance.' 

Wondring  upon  this  word,  quaking  (or 

drede, 
She  seyde,  '  lord,  undigne  and  unworthy 
Am  I  to  thilke  honour  that  ye  me  bede ; 
But  as  ye  wolyour-self,  right  so  wol  I.  361 
And  heer  I  swere  that  never  willingly 
In  werk  ne  thoght  I  nil  yow  disobeye, 
For  to  be  deed,  though  me  were  looth  to 

deye.' 

'  This   is   y-nogh,  Grisilde   myn  ! '  quod 

he.  365 

And   forth   he   gooth   with   a   ful   sobre 

chere 
Out  at  the  dore,  and  after  that  cam  she. 
And  to  the  peple  he  seyde  in  this  manere, 
'This  is  my  wyf,'  quod  he, '  that  standeth 

here. 
Honourtth  hir,  and  loveth  hir,  I  preye, 
Who-so  me  loveth;   ther  is   na-more   to 

seye.'  371 

And  for  that  no-thing  of  hir  olde  gere 
She  sholde  bringe  in-to  his  hous,  he  bad 
That  wommen  sholde  dispoilen  hir  right 

there; 
Of  which  thise  ladyes  were  nat  right  glad 
To  handle  hir   clothes  wher-in    she  was 

clad.  376 

But  nathelcs  this  mayde  bright  of  hewe 
Fro    foot   to    heed    they  clothed  han  al 

newe. 

Ilir  heres  han  they  kembd,  that  lay  un- 

tressed 
I-'ul  rudely,  and  with  hir  fingres  smale  3S0 
A  corone  on  hir  heed  they  han  y-dressed, 
And  sette  hir  ful  of  nowches  grete  and 

smale ;  4-'^'-->-'-^> 

Of  hir  array  what  sholde  I  make  a  tale  ? 
Unnethe  the  peple  hir  knew  for  hir  fair- 

nesse, 
Whan  she  translated  was  in  swich  rich- 

esse.  385 


This  markis  hath  hir  spoused  with  a  ring 
Broght  for  the  same  cause,  and  than  hir 

sctte 
Up-on    an     hors,    snow-whyt    and    wel 

ambling, 
And  to  his  paleys,  er  he  lenger  lette, 
With    Joyful  peple    that    hir    ladde    and 

mette,  390 

Conveyed    hir,   and   thus   the    day   they 

spende 
In  revel,  til  the  sonne  gan  descende. 

And  shortly  forth  this  tale  for  to  chace, 
I  seye  that  to  this  newe  markisesse 
God   hath  swich  favour   sent  hir  of  his 
grace,  395 

That  it  ne  semed  nat  by  lyklinesse 
That  she  was  born  and  fed  in  rudenesse. 
As  in  a  cote  or  in  an  oxe-stalle. 
But  norished  in  an  emperoures  halle. 

To  every  wight  she  vvoxen  is  so  dere  400 
And  worshipful,  that  folk  ther  she  was 

bore 
And  from  hir  birthe  knewe  hir  yeer  by 

yere, 
Unnethe    trowed   they,   but   dorste   han 

swore 
That  to  lanicle,  of  which  I  spak  bifore. 
She  doghter  nas,  for,  as  by  coniecture. 
Hem  thoughte  she  was  another  creature. 

For  thogh  that  ever  vertuous  was  she, 
She  was  encressed  in  swich  excellence 
Of  thewes  gode,  y-set  in  heigh  bountee, 
And  so  discreet  and  fair  of  eloquence. 
So  benigne  and  so  digne  of  reverence. 
And  coude  so  the  peples  herte  embrace, 
That  ech  hir  lovede   that  loked  on  hir 
face. 

Noght  only  of  Saluces  in  the  toun 
Publiced  waS  the  bountee  of  hir  name. 
But  eek  bisyde  in  many  a  regioun,      416 
If    oon    seyde    wel,    another    seyde    the 

same; 
So  spradde  of  hir  heigh  bountee  the  fame. 
That  men  and  wommen,  as  wel  yonge  as 

olde, 
Gon  to  Saluce,  upon  hir  to  biholde.    420 

Thus  Walter  lowly,  nay  but  royally. 
Wedded  with  fortunat  honestetee. 


6s,6 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[423-490. 


In  goddes  pees  liveth  ful  esily 

At  hoom,  and  outward  grace  y-nogh  had 

he;  424 

And  for  he  saugh  that  under  low  degree 
Was  ofte  vertu  hid,  the  peple  him  helde 
A  prudent   man,    and   that   is   seyn   ful 

selde, 

Nat  only  this  Grisildis  thurgh  hir  wit 
Coude  al  the  feet  of  vvyfly  hoomlinesse, 
But  eek,  whan  that  the  cas  requyred  it, 
The  commune  profit  coude  she  redresse. 
Ther  nas  discord,  rancour,  ne  hevinesse 
In  al  that  lond,  that  she  ne  coude  apese. 
And  wysly  bringe  hem  alle  in  reste  and 
ese. 

Though  that  hir  housbonde  absent  were 
anoon,  435 

If  gentil  men,  or  othere  of  hir  contree 
Were    wrothe,  she    wolde    bringen   hem 

atoon ; 
So  wyse  and  rype  wordes  hadde  she. 
And  lugements  of  so  greet  equitee, 
That  she    from  heven  sent  was  as  men 
wende,  440 

Peple  to  save  and  every  wrong  tamende. 

Nat  longe  tyme  after  that  this  Grisild 
Was  wedded,  she  a  doughter  hath  y-bore, 
Al    had    hir   lever   have   born   a   knave 

child. 
Glad  was  this  markis  and  the  folk  ther- 

fore ;  445 

For  though  a  mayde  child  come  al  bifore, 
She  may  unto  a  knave  child  atteyne 
By  lyklihed,  sin  she  nis  nat  bareyne. 
Explicit  secunda  pars. 

Incipit  tei'cia  pars. 

Ther  fil,  as  it  bifalleth  tymes  mo. 

Whan  that  this  child  had  souked  but  a 

throwe,  450 

This  markis  in  his  herte  longeth  so 
To  tempte  his  wyf,  hir  sadnesse  for  to 

knowe, 
That  he  ne  mighte  out  of  his  herte  throwe 
This  nierveillous  desyr,  his  wyf  tassaye. 
Needless,  god  woot,  he  thoughte  hir  for 

taffraye.  455 

He  hadde  assayed  hir  y-nogh  bifore, 


And  fond  hir  ever  good;   what  neded  it 
Hir  for  to  tempte  and  alwey  more  and 

more? 
Though  som  men  preise  it  for  a  subtil 

wit. 
But  as  for  me,  I  seye  that  yvel  it  sit    460 
Tassaye  a  wyf  whan  that  it  is  no  nede. 
And  putten  her  in  anguish  and  in  drede. 

For  which  this  markis  wroghte  in  this 
manere; 

He  cam  alone  a-night,  ther  as  she  lay. 

With  Sterne  face  and  with  ful  trouble 
chere,  465 

And  seyde  thus,  '  Grisild,'  quod  he,  '  that 
day 

That  I  yow  took  out  of  your  povre  array, 

And  putte  yow  in  estaat  of  heigh  no- 
blesse, 

Ye  have  nat  that  forgeten,  as  I  gesse. 

I  seye,  Grisild,  this  present  dignitee,  470 
In    which    that    I    have    put    yow,    as    I 

trowe, 
Maketh  yow  nat  foryetful  for  to  be 
That  I  yow  took  in  povre  estaat  ful  lowe 
For  any  wele  ye  moot  your-selven  knowe. 
Tak   hede  of  every    word   that    I    yow 

seye,  475 

Ther  is  no  wight  that  hereth  it  but  we 

tweye. 

Ye  woot  your-self  wel,  how  that  ye  cam 

here 
In-to  this  hous,  it  is  nat  longe  ago, 
And  though  to  me  that  ye  be  lief  and 

dere, 
Un-to  my  gentils  ye  be  no-thing  so ;    480 
They  seyn,  to  hem  it  is  greet  shame  and 

wo 
For  to  be  subgets  and  ben  in  servage 
To  thee,  that  born  art  of  a  smal  village. 

And  namely,  sith  thy  doghter  was  y-bore, 
Thise   wordes   han    they  spoken   doute- 

lees;  485 

But  I  desyre,  as  I  have  doon  bifore, 
To   live  my   lyf  with    hem   in  reste  and 

pees; 
I  may  nat  in  this  caas  be  recchelees. 
I   moot   don   with    thy   doghter    for    the 

beste,  489 

Nat  as  I  wolde,  but  as  my  peple  leste. 


491-556] 


E.    THE  CLERKES   TALE. 


657 


And  yet,  god  wot,  this  is  ful  looth  to 

me; 
Bat  nathelees  with-oute  your  witing 
I  wol  nat  doon,  but  this  wol  I,'  quod  he, 
'That  ye  to  me  assente  as  in  this  ti)ing. 
Shewe  now  your  pacience  in  your  werlt- 

ing  495 

That  ye  me  highte  and  swore    in  your 

village 
That  ilay  that  maked  was  our  mariage.' 

Whan  she  had  herd  al  this,  she   noght 

ameved 
Neither   in    word,  or  chere,    or  counte- 

naunce; 
For,  as  it  semed,  she  was  nat  agreved  : 
She  seyde,  '  lord,  al   lyth  in  your   ple- 

saunce,  501 

My  child  and  I  with  hertly  ohcisaunce 
Ben   youres  al,  and   ye   mowe   save   or 

spille 
Your   owene  thing;    werketh  after  your 

wille. 

Ther  may  no-thing,  god  so  my  soule 
save,  505 

Tyken  to  yow  that  may  displese  me; 

Ne  I  desyre  no-thing  for  to  have, 

Ne  drede  for  to  lese,  save  only  ye; 

This  vvil  is  in  myn  herte  and  ay  shal  be. 

No  lengthe  of  tyme  or  deeth  may  this 
deface,  510 

Ne  chaunge  my  corage  to  another  place.' 

Glad  was  this  markis  of  hir  answering. 
But  yet  he  feyned  as  he  were  nat  so; 
Al  drery  was  his  chere  and  his  loking 
Whan  that  he  sholde  out  of  the  chaml^re 

go-  .  5'5 

Sone  after  this,  a  furlong  wey  or  two. 
He  prively  hath  told  al  his  entente 
Un-to  a  man,  and  to  his  wyf  him  scnte. 

A  maner  sergeant  was  this  privee  man. 
The  which  that  feithful  ofte  he  founden 

hadde  520 

In  thinges  grete,  and  eek  swich  folk  wel 

can 
Don  execucioun  on  thinges  badde. 
The  lord    knew  wel  that  he    him  loved 

and  dradde; 
And  whan  this  sergeant  wiste  his  lordes 

wille 

2U 


In-to  the  chambre  he  stalked  him  ful 
stille.  -,        525 

'  Madame,'  he  seyde,  '  ye  mote  foryeve  it 

me, 
Thogh   I  do  thing  to  which   I   am    con- 

streyned ; 
Ye  ben  so  wys  that  ful  wel  knowe  ye 
That    lordes    hestes     nK)\ve     nat     been 

y-feyned; 
They  mowe  wel  been  biwailled  or  com- 

pleyned,  530 

But  men  mot  nede  un-to  her  lust  obcye. 
And  so  wol  I ;    ther  is  na-morc  to  seyc. 

This  child  I  am  comanded  for  to  take  '  — 
And  spak  na-more,  but  out  the  child  he 

hente 
Despitously,  and  gan  a  chere  make     535 
As  though  he  wolde  han  slayn  it  er  he 

wente. 
Grisildis  mot  al  suffren  and  consente; 
And   as    a  lamb   she    sittcth    mtke    and 

stille. 
And    leet    this    cruel  sergeant  doon    his 

wille. 

Suspecious  was  the  diffame  of  this 
man,  54<5 

Suspect  his  face,  suspect  his  word  also; 

Suspect  the  tyme  in  which  he  this  bigan. 

Alias !   hir  doghter  that  she  lovede  so 

She  wende  he  wolde  han  slawen  it  right 
tho.  544 

But  natheles  she  neither  weep  ne  syked 

Consenting  hir  to  that  the  markis  lyked. 

But  atte  laste  speken  she  bigan, 
And  mekely  she  to  the  sergeant  preydc, 
.So  as  he  was  a  worthy  gentil  man, 
That  she  moste  kisse  hir  child  er  that  it 

deyde;  550 

And  in   her    barm    this    litel    child    she 

leyde 
With  ful  sad  face,  and  gan  the  child  to 

kisse 
And  lulled  it,  and  after  gan  it  blisse. 

And  thus  she  seyde  in  hir  bcnigne  voys, 
'Far  weel,  my  child;    I  shall  thee  never 

see;  555 

But,  sith  I  thee  have  marked   with  the 

croys, 


65S 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[557-624. 


Of  thilke  fader  blessed  mote  thou  be, 
That  for  us  deyde  up-on  a  croys  of  tree. 
Thy  soule,  litel  child,  I  him  bitake, 
For    this    night    shaltow    dyen    for    my 
sake.'  560 

I  trowe  that  to  a  norice  in  this  cas 
It  had  ben  hard  this  rewthe  for  to  se; 
Wei   mighte  a  mooder   than  han  cryed 

'  alias !  ' 
But  nathelees  so  sad  stedfast  was  she, 
That  she  endured  all  adversitee,  565 

And  to  the  sergeant  meekly  she  sayde, 
'  Have  hear  agayn  your  litel  yonge  mayde. 

Goth    now,'    quod  she,  '  and   dooth  my 

lordes  heste, 
But  o  thing  wol  I  preye  yow  of  your 

grace. 
That,    but    my   lord    forbad    yow,   atte 

leste  570 

Burieth  this  litel  body  in  som  place 
That  bestes  ne  no  briddes  it  to-race.' 
But  he  no  word  wol  to  that  purpos  seye. 
But  took  the  child  and  wente  upon  his 

weye. 

This  sergeant  cam  un-to  his  lord  ageyn. 
And  of  Grisildis  wordes  and  hir  chere  576 
He   tolde  him  point  for  point,  in  short 

and  playn. 
And    him   presenteth   with   his   doghter 

dere. 
Somwhat  this  lord  hath   rewthe  in   his 

manere; 
But  nathelees  his  purpos  heeld  he  stille. 
As  lordes  doon,  whan  they  wol  han  hir 

wille;  581 

And  bad  his  sergeant  that  he  prively 
Sholde   this   child  ful  softe   winde   and 

wrappe 
With  alle  circumstances  tendrely. 
And  carie  it  in  a  cofre  or  in  a  lappe; 
But,    up-on   peyne   his  heed    of    for   to 

swappe,  5S6 

That  no  man  sholde  knowe  of  his  entente, 
Ne  whenne  he  cam,  ne  whider  that  he 

wente; 

But  at  Boloigne  to  his  suster  dere. 
That   thilke   tyme   of   Panik  was  count- 
esse,  590 


He  sholde  it  take,  and   shewe   hir    this 

matere, 
Bisekinge  hir  to  don  hir  bisinesse 
This  child  to  fostre  in  alle  gentilesse; 
And  whos  child  that  it  was  he  bad  hir 

hyde 
From    every   wight,    for   oght  that   may 

bityde.  595 

The  sergeant  gooth,  and  hath  fulfild  this 

thing; 
But  to  this  markis  now  retourne  we; 
For  now  goth  he  ful  faste  imagining 
If  by  his  wyves  chere  he  mighte  see. 
Or  by  hir  word  aperceyve  that  she      600 
Were  chaunged;   but  he  never  hir  coude 

finde 
But  ever  in  oon  y-lyke  sad  and  kinde. 

As  glad,  as  humble,  as  bisy  in  servyse. 
And  eek  in  love  as  she  was  wont  to  be, 
Was  she  to  him  in  every  maner  wyse; 
Ne    of  hir   doghter  noght  a  word  spak 

she.  606 

Non  accident  for  noon  adversitee 
Was   seyn  in  hir,  ne  never  hir  doghter 

name 
Ne  nempned  she,  in  ernest  nor  in  game. 

Explicit    tercia  pars.       Sequitur  pars 
quarta. 

In  this  estaat  ther  passed   been    foure 

yeer  610 

Er   she   with    childe   was;    but,   as  god 

wolde, 
A  knave  child  she  bar  by  this  Walter, 
Ful  gracious  and  fair  for  to  biholde. 
And  whan  that  folk  it  to  his  fader  tolde, 
Nat  only  he,  but  al  his  contree,  merie  615 
Was  for  this  child,  and  god  they  thanke 
and  herie. 

Whan  it  was  two  yeer  old,  and  fro  the 

brest 
Departed  of  his  norice,  on  a  day 
This  markis  caughte  yet  another  lest  619 
To  tempte  his  wyf  yet  ofter,  if  he  may. 
O  needles  was  she  tempted  in  assay  I 
]>ut  wedded  men  ne  knowe  no  mesure. 
Whan  that  they  finde  a  pacient  creature. 

'  Wyf,'  qucjd   this  markis,  '  ye  han  herd 
ir  this. 


y 


625-688.] 


E.     THE  CLERKES  TALE. 


659 


My  peple  sikly  berth  our  mariage        625 
Aiul  namely,  sith  my  sone  y-boren  is, 
Now    is    it    worse    than    ever    in    al   our 

age. 
The    murmur  sleeth  myn  herte  and  my 

corage; 
For  to  myne    eres    comth    the   voys   so 

smcrte. 
That    it   wel    ny    destroyed    hath    myn 

herte.  630 

Now  sey  they  thus,    "  whan    Walter    is 

agoon. 
Then  shal  the  blood  of  lanicle  succede 
And    l)een    our  lord,  for  other  have  we 

noon;' 
Swiche  wordes   seith   my  peple,  out    of 

drede. 
Wel  oughte  I   of  swich   murmur   taken 

hede;  635 

For  certeinly  I  drede  swich  sentence. 
Though    they   nat    pleyn  speke   in   myn 

audience. 

I  wolde  live  in  pees,  if  that  I  mighte; 
Wherfor  I  am  disposed  outerly, 
As  I  his  suster  served  by  nighte,  640 

Right  so  thenke  I  to  serve  him  piively; 
This  warne  I  yow,  that  ye  nat  sodeynly 
Out    of  your-self  for  no  wo  sholde  out- 

raye; 
Beth  pacient,  and  ther-of  I  yow  preye.' 

'  I  have,'  quod  she,  '  seyd  thus,  and  ever 

shal,  645 

I  wol  no  thing,  ne  nil  no  thing,  certayn, 
But  as  yow  list;  noght  greveth  me  at  al, 
Thogh  that  my  doghter  and  my  sone  be 

slayn. 
At  your  comandement,  this  is  to  sayn. 
I   have   noght  had  no  part  of  children 

tweyne  650 

But    first    siknesse,    and    after    wo    and 

peyne. 

Ye  been  our  lord,  doth  with  your  owene 

thing 
Right   as   yow   list;     axeth    no    reed    at 

me. 
For,  as  T  lefte  at  hoom  al  my  clothing, 
Whan  I  first  cam  to  yow,  right  so,'  quod 

she,  655 

'Left  1  my  wil  and  al  my  libertee, 


And    took    your    clothing  ;     wherfor     I 

yow  preye, 
Doth    your  plesaunce,   I   wol   your   lust 

obeye. 

And  certes,  if  I  hadde  prescience 

Y'our  wil   to  knowe  er  ye  your  lust  me 

tolde,  660 

I  wolde  it  doon  with-outen  necligence; 
But  now  I  woot  your  lust  and  what  ye 

wolde, 
Al   your  plesaunce  ferme   and   stable    I 

holde; 
For  wiste  I  that  my  decth  wolde  do  yow 

ese,  664 

Right  gladly  wolde  I  dyen,  yow  to  plese. 

Deth  may  noght  make  no  comparisoun 

Un-to  your  love  : '  and,  whan  this  markis 
sey 

The  Constance  of  his  wyf,  he  caste 
adoun 

His  yen  two,  and  wondreth  that  she 
may 

In  pacience  suffre  al  this  array.  670 

And  forth  he  gooth  with  drery  conte- 
naunce, 

But  to  his  herte  it  was  ful  greet  ples- 
aunce. 

This  ugly  sergeant,  in  the  same  wyse 
That  he  hir  doghter  caughte,  right  so  he, 
Or  worse,  if  men  worse  can  devyse,     675 
Hath    hent    hir    sone,    that   ful   was   of 

beautee. 
And  ever  in  oon  so  pacient  was  she. 
That  she  no  chere  made  of  hevinesse. 
But  kiste  hir    sone,   and    after    gan    it 

blesse ; 

Save  this;  she  preyed  him  that,  if  he 
mighte,  680 

Hir  litel  sone  he  wolde  in  erthe  grave, 

His  tendre  limes,  delicat  to  sighte. 

Fro  foules  and  fro  bestes  for  to  save. 

But  she  non  answer  of  him  might  have. 

He  wente  his  wey,  as  him  no-thing  ne 
roghte;  685 

But  to  Boloigne  he  tendrely  it  broghte. 

This   markis  wondreth   ever  lenger   the 

more 
Up-on  hir  pacience,  and  if  that  he         • 


66o 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[689-761. 


Ne  hadde  soothly  knowen  ther-bifore, 
That  partitly  hir  children  lovede  she,  690 
He  wolde  have  wend  that  of  som  sub- 

tiltee, 
And  of  malice  or  for  cruel  corage, 
That    she    had    suffred    this    with    sad 

visage. 

But   wel  he  knew    that    next   him-self, 

certayn, 
She   loved    hir   children   best   in    every 

wyse.  695 

But  now  of  wommen  wolde  I  axen  fayn, 
If  thise  assayes  mighte  nat  suffyse? 
What    coude    a   sturdy   housbond   more 

devyse 
To   preve  hir  wyfhod  and   hir   stedfast- 

nesse,  699 

And  he  continuing  ever  in  sturdinesse? 

But  ther  ben  folk  of  swich  condicioun, 

That,  whan  they  have  a  certein  purpos 
take. 

They  can  nat  stinte  of  hir  entencioun, 

But,  right  as  they  were  bounden  to  a 
stake, 

They  wol  nat  of  that  firste  purpos  slake. 

Right  so  this  markis  fulliche  hath  pur- 
posed 706 

To  tempte  his  wyf,  as  he  was  first  dis- 
posed. 

He  waiteth,  if  by  word  or  contenance 
That  she  to  him  was  changed  of  corage; 
But  never  coude  he  finde  variance;     710 
She  was  ay  oon  in  herte  and  in  visage; 
And  ay  the  forther  that  she  was  in  age. 
The  more  trewe,  if  that  it  were  possible. 
She  was    to    him    in    love,    and   more 
penible. 

For  which  it  semed  thus,  that  of  hem 
two  715 

Ther  nas  but  o  wil;   for,  as  Walter  leste. 
The  same  lust  was  hir  plesance  also. 
And,  god  be  thanked,  al  fil  for  the  beste. 
She  shewed  wel,  for  no  worldly  unreste 
A  wyf,  as  of  hir-self,  no-thing  ne  sholde 
Wille   in   effect,   but   as    hir    housbond 
wolde.  721 

The  sclaundre  of  Walter  ofte  and  wyde 
•       spradde, 


That  of  a  cruel  herte  he  wikkedly, 
For  he  a  povre  womman  wedded  hadde. 
Hath  mordred  bothe  his  children  prively. 
Swich  murmur  was  among  hem  comunly. 
No  wonder  is,  for  to  the  peples  ere  727 
Ther  cam  no  word  but  that  they  mordred 
were. 

For  which,  wher-as  his  peple  ther-bifore 
Had  loved  him  wel,  the  sclaundre  of  his 

diffame  730 

Made  hem  that  they  him  hatede   ther- 

fore; 
To  been  a  mordrer  is  an  hateful  name. 
But  natheles,  for  ernest  ne  for  game 
He  of  his  cruel  purpos  nolde  stente;  734 
To  tempte  his  wyf  was  set  al  his  entente. 

Whan  that  his  doghter  twelf  yeer  was  of 

age. 
He  to  the  court  of  Rome,  in  subtil  wyse 
Enformed  of  his  wil,  sente  his  message, 
Comaunding  hem  swiche  bulles  to  devyse 
As  to  his  cruel  purpos  may  suffyse,      740 
How  that   the   pope,  as   for  his  peples 

reste. 
Bad  him  to  wedde  another,  if  him  leste. 

I  seye,  he  bad  they  sholde  countrefete 
The  popes  bulles,  making  mencioun 
That  he  hath  leve  his  firste  wyf  to  lete. 
As  by  the  popes  dispensacioun,  746 

To  stinte  rancour  and  dissencioun 
Bitwixe  his  peple  and  him;    thus  seyde 

the  bulle. 
The  which  they  han  publiced  atte  fuUe. 

The  rude  peple,  as  it  no  wonder  is,     750 
Wenden  ful  wel  that  it  had  been  right 

so; 
But   whan   thise   tydinges   cam   to   Gri- 

sildis, 
I  deme  that  hir  herte  was  ful  wo. 
But  she,  y-lyke  sad  for  evermo. 
Disposed  was,  this  humble  creature,    755 
Thadversitee  of  fortune  al  tendure. 

Abyding  ever  his  lust  and  his  plesaunce, 
To  whom  that  she  was  yeven,  herte  and 

al, 
As  to  hir  verray  worldly  suffisaunce; 
But  shortly  if  this  stnrie  I  tellen  shal,  760 
This  markis  writen  hath  in  special 


762-835.] 


E.    THE  CLERKES   TALE. 


661 


A  lettre  in  which  he  sheweth  his  entente, 
And  secrely  he  to  Boloigne  it  scnte. 

To  the  erl  of  Panik,  which  that   hadde 

tho 
Wedded  his  suster,  preyde  he  specially 
To    hringen    hoom    agayn    his    children 

two  766 

In  honurable  estaat  al  openly. 
]>ut  o  thing  he  him  preyede  outerly, 
That  he  to  no  wight,  though  men  wolde 

enquere, 
Sholde    nat    telle,   whos    children    that 

they  were,  770 

But  seye,  the  mayden  sholde  y-wedded 

be 
Un-to  the  markis  of  Saluce  anon. 
And  as  this  erl  was  preyed,  so  dide  he; 
For  at  day  set  he  on  his  wey  is  goon  774 
Toward  Saluce,  and  lordes  many  oon. 
In  riche  array,  this  niaytlen  for  to  gyde; 
Hir  yonge  brother  ryding  hir  bisyde. 

Arrayed  was  toward  hir  mariage 

This  fresshe  mayde,  ful  of  gemmes  clere; 

Hir  brother,  which  that  seven  yeer  was 

of  age,  780 

Arrayed  eek  ful  fresh  in  his  manere. 
And    thus    in    greet    noblesse    and    with 

glad  chere. 
Toward  Saluces  shaping  hir  lourney, 
Fro  day  to  day  they  ryden  in  hir  wey. 

Explicit  quarta  pars.     Sequitur  qitinta 
pars. 

Among  al  this,  after  his  wikke  usage,  785 
This  markis,  yet  his  wyf  to  tempte  more 
To  the  uttereste  preve  of  hir  corage. 
Fully  to  han  experience  and  lore 
If  that  she  were  as  stedfast  as  bifore, 
He  on  a  day  in  open  audience  790 

Ful  boistously  hath  seyd  hir  this  sentence  : 

• 
•Certes,  Grisilde,  I  hadde  y-nough   ple- 

saunce 
To  han  yow  to  my  wyf  for  your  goodnesse. 
As  for  your  trouthe  and   for  your  obei- 

saunce. 
Nought  for  your  linage  ne  for  your  rich- 

esse ;  795 

But  now  knowe  I  in  verray  soothfastnesse 


That  in  gret  lordshipe,  if  I  wel  avyse, 
Ther  is  gret  servitute  in  sondry  wyse. 

I  may  nat  don  as  every  plowman  may; 
My  peple  me  constrcyneth  for  to  take  800 
Another  wyf,  and  cryen  day  by  day; 
And  eek  the  pope,  rancour  for  to  slake, 
Consenteth  it,  that  dar  I  undertake; 
And  treweliche  thus  muchc    I  wol  yow 

seye. 
My  newe  wyf  is  coming  by  the  weye.  805 

Be  strong  of  herte,  and  voyde  anon  hir 

place, 
And  thilke  dower  that  ye  broghten  me 
Tak  it  agayn,  I  graunte  it  of  my  grace; 
Retourneth  to  your  fadres  hous,'  quod  he; 
'  No  man  may  ahvey  han  prosperitee;   810 
With  evene  herte  I  rede  yow  tendure 
The  strook  of  fortune  or  of  aventure.' 

And  she  answerde  agayn  in  pacience, 
'  My  lord,'  quod  she,  '  I  woot,  and  wiste 

alway 
How  that  bitwixen  your  magnificence  815 
And  my  poverte  no  wight  can  ne  may 
Maken  comparison;    it  is  no  nay. 
I  ne  heeld  me  never  digne  in  no  manere 
To  be  your  wyf,  no,  ne  your  chamberere. 

And    in    this    hous,    ther   ye    me    lady 
made  —  820 

The  heighe  god  take  I  for  my  witnesse, 
And  also  wisly  he  my  soule  glade  — 
I  never  heeld  me  lady  ne  maistresse, 
But  humble  servant  to  your  worthinesse. 
And   ever  shal,  whyl   that   my  lyf  may 
dure,  825 

Aboven  every  worldly  creature. 

That  ye  so  longe  of  your  benignitee 
Han  holden  me  in  honour  and  nobleye, 
Wher-as  I  was  noght  worthy  for  to  be, 
That  thonke  I  god  and  yow,  to  whom  I 

preye  830 

Foryelde  it  yow;    there    is   na-more   to 

seye. 
Un-to  my  fader  gladly  wol  I  wende. 
And    with    him    dwelle    un-to   my   lyves 

ende. 

Ther  I  was  fostred  of  a  child  ful  smal, 
Til  I  be  deed,  my  lyf  ther  wol  I  lede  835 


662 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[836-908. 


A  widwe  clene,  in  body,  herte,  and  al. 
For  sith  1  yaf  to  yow  my  maydeiihede, 
And  ain  your  trewe  wyf,  it  is  no  drede, 
God  shilde  swich  a  lordes  wyf  to  take 
Another     man     to     housbonde     or     to 
make.  840 

And  of  your  newe  wyf,  god  of  his  grace 
So  graunte  yow  wele  and  prosperitee  : 
For  I  wol  gladly  ycldcn  hir  my  place. 
In  which  that  I  was  blisful  wont  to  be. 
For  sith    it    lyketh  yow,  my  lord,'  quod 

she,  845 

'That  whylom  weren  al  myn  hertes  reste, 
That  I  shal  goon,  I  wol  gon  whan  yow 

leste. 

But  ther-as  ye  me  profre  swich  dowaire 
As  I  first  broghte,  it  is  wel  in  my  minde 
It  were  my  wrecched  clothes,  no-thing 

faire,  850 

The  which  to  me  were  hard  now  for  to 

finde. 
O  gode  god !  how  gentil  and  how  kinde 
Ye  semed  by  your  speche  and  your  visage 
The  day  that  maked  was  our  mariage ! 

But    sooth    is    seyd,    algate    I    finde    it 
trewe —  855 

For  in  effect  it  preved  is  on  me  — 
Love  is  noght  old  as  whan  that  it  is  newe. 
But  certes,  lord,  for  noon  adversitee, 
To  dyen  in  the  cas,  it  shal  nat  be 
That    ever  in  word    or  werk   I   shal   re- 
pente  860 

That  I  yow  yaf  myn  herte  in  hool  en- 
tente. 

My  lord,  ye  woot  that,  in  my  fadres  place, 
Ye  dede  me  strepe  out  of  my  povre  wede, 
And  richely  me  cladden,  of  your  grace. 
To  yow  broghte  I    noghte   elles,  out  of 

drede,  865 

But  feyth  and  nakednesse  and  mayden- 

hede. 
And  here  agayn  my  clothing  I  restore. 
And  eek  my  wedding-ring,  for  evermore. 

The  remenant  of  your  Jewels  redy  be 
In-with    your    chambre,    dar    I     saufly 
sayn;  870 

Naked  out  of  my  fadres  hous,'  quod  she, 
'  I  cam,  and  naked  moot  I  turne  agayn. 


Al  your  plesaunce  wol  I  folwen  fayn; 
But  yet  1  hope  it  be  nat  your  entente 
That    I    smoklees    out    of    your    paleys 
wente.  875 

Ye  coude  nat  doon  so  dishoneste  a  tiling. 
That  thilke  wombe  in  which  your  children 

leye 
Sholde,  biforn  the  peple,  in  my  walking, 
Be  seyn  al  bare;    wherfor  I  yow  preye, 
Let    me    nat    lyk    a    worm    go    by    the 

weye.  880 

Remembre  yow,  myn  owene  lord  so  dere, 
I  was  your  wyf,  thogh  I  unworthy  were. 

Wherfor,  in  guerdon  of  my  maydenhede, 
Which  that  I  broghte,  and  noght  agayn 

I  bere. 
As   voucheth   sauf    to   yeve   me,  to   my 

mede,  885 

But  swich  a  smok  as  I  was  wont  to  were. 
That  I  therwith  may  wrye  the  wombe  of 

here 
That  was  your  wyf ;   and  heer  take  I  my 

leve 
Of  yow,  myn   owene   lord,   lest   I   yow 

greve.' 

'The  smok,'  quod  he,  *  that  thou  hast  on 
thy  bak,  890 

Lat  it  be  stille,  and  ber  it  forth  with  thee.' 
But  wel  unnethes  thilke  word  he  spak, 
But  wente  his  wey  for  rewthe   and   for 

pitee. 
Biforn  the  folk  hir-selven  strepeth  she. 
And  in  hir  smok,  with  heed  and  foot  al 
bare,  895 

Toward  hir  fader  hous  forth  is  she  fare. 

The  folk  hir  folwe  wepinge  in  hir  weye. 
And  fortune  ay  they  cursen  as  they  goon; 
But  she  fro  weping  kepte  hir  yen  dreye, 
Ne    in    this    tyme  word    ne    spak    she 
noon.  900 

Hir  fader,  that  this  tyding  herde  anoon, 
Curseth  the  day  and  tyme  that  nature 
Shoop  him  to  been  a  lyves  creature. 

For  out  of  doute  this  olde  povre  man 
Was  ever  in  suspect  of  hir  mariage;     905 
For  ever  he  denied,  sith  that  it  bigan, 
That  whan  the  lord  fulfild  had  his  corage. 
Him  wolde  thinke  it  were  a  disparage 


909-980.] 


E.     TMli  CLERKKS   TALE. 


663 


To  his  estaat  so  lowe  for  talighte, 
And   voyilen   hir   as    sone    as    ever   he 
niighte.  910 

Agayns  his  doghter  hastilich  goth  he, 
For  he  by  noyse  of  folk  knew  liir  couiinge, 
And  with  hir  olde  cote,  as  it  niighte  be, 
lie  covered  hir,  ful  surwefuUy  wejiinge; 
But    on    hir    body    niighte    he     it     iiat 
bringe.  915 

For  rude  was  the  clotli,  and  more  of  age 
By  dayes  fele  than  at  hir  niariage. 

Thus  with  hir  fader,  for  a  certeyn  space, 
Dwelleth  this  flour  of  wyfly  pacience, 
That  neither  by  hir  wordes  ne  hir  face  920 
Biforn  the  folk,  ne  eek  in  hir  absence, 
Ne  shewed  she  that  hir  was  doun  offence; 
Ne  of  hir  heigh  estaat  no  rememliraunce 
Ne  hadde  she,  as  by  hir  countenaunce. 

No  wonder  is,  for  in  hir  grete  estaat    925 
Hir  goost  was  ever  in  pleyn  humylitee; 
No  tendre  mouth,  non  herte  delicaat. 
No  pompe,  no  semblant  of  royaltee. 
But  ful  of  pacient  benignitee. 
Discreet  and  prydeles,  ay  honurable,  930 
And  to  hir  housbonde  ever  meke   and 
stable. 

Men  speke  of  lob  and  most  for  his  hum- 

blesse. 
As  clerkes,  whan  hem  list,  can  wel  en- 

dyte. 
Namely  of  men,  but  as  in  soothfastnesse, 
Thogh    clerkes   preyse    wommen   but   a 

lyte,  935 

Ther  can  no  man  in  humblesse  him  acquyte 
As  wommaii  can,  ne  can  ben  half  so  trewe 
As  wommen  been,  but  it  be  falle  of-newe. 


Fro  Boloigne  is  this  erl  of  Panik  come. 
Of  which   the  fame  up-sprang  to  more 

and  lesse,  940 

And  in  the  peples  eres  alle  and  some 
Was  couth  eek,  that  a  newe  markisesse 
He  with   him   broghte,  in  swich   pompe 

and  richesse. 
That  never  was  ther  seyn  with  mannes  ye 
So  noble  array  in  al  West  Lumbardye.  945 


The  markis,  which  that  shoop  and  knew 
al  this, 

Er  that  this  erl  was  come,  sente  his  mes- 
sage 

For  thilke  sely  povre  Orisildis; 

And  she  with  humble  herte  and  glad 
visage, 

Nat  with  no  swollen  thoght  in  hir  corage. 

Cam  at  his  heste,  and  on  hir  knees  hir 
sette,  951 

And  reverently  and  wysly  she  him  grelte. 

'  Grisild,'  quod  he,  '  my  wille  is  outerly. 
This  mayden,  that  siial  wedded  been  to 

me, 
Receyved  be  to-morwe  as  royally         955 
As  it  possible  is  in  myn  hous  to  he. 
And  eek  that  every  wight  in  his  degree 
Have  his  estaat  in  sitting  and  servyse 
And    heigh    plesaunce,    as    I    can    best 

devyse. 

I  have  no  wommen  suffisaunt  certayn  960 
The  chambres  for  tarraye  in  ordinaunce 
After  my  lust,  and  therfor  vvolde  I  fayn 
That  thyn  were  al  swich  maner  govern- 

aunce; 
Thou  k nowest  eek  of  old  al  my  plesaunce ; 
Though  thyn  array  be   badde  and  yvel 

biseye,  965 

Do  thou  thy  devoir  at  the  leeste  weye.' 

*  Nat  only,  lord,  that  I  am  glad,'  quod  she, 
'  To  doon  your  lust,  but  I  desyre  also 
Yow  for  to  serve  and  plese  in  my  degree 
With-outen  feynting,  and  shal  evermo. 
Ne  never,  for  no  wele  ne  no  wo,  971 

Ne  shal    the    gost    with-in    myn    herte 

stente 
To  love  yow  best  with  al  ray  trewe  en- 
tente.' 

And  with  that  word  she  gan  the  hous  to 

dighte. 
And  tables  for  to  sette  and  beddes  make; 
And    peyned    hir    to    doon    al    that    she 

niighte,  976 

Preying  the  chambereres,  for  goddes  sake. 
To    hasten    hem,   and    faste    svvepe    and 

shake; 
And  she,  the  moste  servisable  of  alle. 
Hath    every    chambre    arrayed    and    his 

halle.  9S0 


664 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[981-1055. 


Abouten  undern  gan  this  erl  alighte, 

That  with  him  Vjroghte  thise  noble  chil- 
dren tweye, 

P'or  which  the  peple  ran  to  seen  the  sighte 

Of  hir  array,  so  richely  biseye; 

And  than  at  erst  amonges  hem  they  seye, 

That  Walter  was  no  foul,  thogh  that  him 
leste  986 

To  chaunge  his  wyf,  for  it  was  for  the 
beste. 

For  she  is  fairer,  as  they  demen  alle, 
Than  is  Grisild,  and  more  tendre  of  age, 
And  fairer  fruit  liitwene  hem  sholde  falle, 
And  more  plesant,  for  hir  heigh  lin- 
age; 991 
Hir  brother  eek  so  fair  was  of  visage, 
That  hem  to  seen  the  peple  hath  caught 

plesaunce, 
Commending   now   the   markis    govern- 
aunce. — 

Auctor.  'O  stormy  peple!  unsad  and 
ever  untrewe !  995 

Ay  undiscreet  and  chaunging  as  a  vane, 

Delyting  ever  in  rumbel  that  is  newe, 

For  lyk  the  mone  ay  wexe  ye  and  wane; 

Ay  ful  of  clapping,  dere  y-nogh  a  lane; 

Your  doom  is  fals,  your  Constance  yvel 
preveth,  1000 

A  ful  greet  fool  is  he  that  on  yow  leveth  ! ' 

Thus  seyden  sadde  folk  in  that  citee, 
Whan  that  the  peple  gazed  up  and  doun, 
For  they  were  glad,  right  for  the  noveltee, 
To  han  a  newe  lady  of  hir  toun.  1005 

Na-more  of  this  make  I  now  mencioun; 
But  to  Grisilde  agayn  wol  I  me  dresse. 
And    telle    hir    Constance    and    hir    bisi- 
nesse.  — 

Ful  bisy  was  Grisilde  in  every  thing 
That  to  the  feste  was  apertinenl;       loio 
Right  noght  was  she  abayst  of  hir  clothing. 
Though  it  were  rude  and  somdel  eek  to- 
rent. 
But  with  glad  chere  to  the  yate  is  went. 
With  other  folk,  to  grete  the  markisesse, 
And     after    that    doth    forth    hir    bisi- 
nesse.  1015 

With  so  glad  chere  his  gestes  she  receyv- 
eth, 


And  conningly,  everich  in  his  degree, 
That  no  defaute  no  man  aperceyveth; 
But  ay  they  wondren  what  she  mighte  be 
That  in  so  povre  array  was  for  to  see,  1020 
And    coude    swich    honour   and   rever- 
ence; 
And  worthily  they  preisen  hir  prudence. 

In  al  this  mene  whyle  she  ne  stente 
This  mayde  and  eek  hir  brother  to  com- 

mende 
With  al  hir  herte,  in  ful  benigne  entente. 
So    wel,    that    no    man    coude    hir    prys 

amende.  1026 

But   atte    laste,  whan  that   thise   lordes 

wende 
To  sitten  doun  to  mete,  he  gan  to  calle 
Grisilde,  as  she  was  bisy  in  his  halle. 

'  Grisilde,'  quod  he,  as  it  were  in  his 
pley,  1030 

*  How  lyketh  thee  my  wyf  and  hir  beau- 
tee?' 

'  Right  wel,'  quod  she,  'my  lord;  for,  in 
good  fey, 

A  fairer  say  I  never  noon  than  she. 

I  prey  to  god  yeve  hir  prosperitee; 

And  so  hope  I  that  he  wol  to  yow 
sende  1035 

Plesance  y-nogh  un-to  your  lyves  ende. 

0  thing  biseke  I  yow  and  warne  also. 
That  ye  ne  prikke  with  no  tormentinge 
This  tendre  mayden,  as  ye  han  don  mo; 
For  she  is  fostred  in  hir  norishinge    1040 
More  tendrely,  and,  to  my  supposinge. 
She  coude  nat  adversitee  endure 

As  coude  a  povre  fostred  creature.' 

And  whan  this  Walter  say  hir  pacience, 
Hir  glade  chere  and  no  malice  at  al,  1045 
And  he  so  ofte  had  doon  to  hir  offence, 
And  she  ay  sad  and  constant  as  a  wal, 
Continuing  ever  hir  innocence  overal. 
This  sturdy  markis  gan  his  herte  dresse 
To  rewen  up-on  hir  wyfly  stedfastnesse. 

'This  is  y-nogh,  Grisilde  myn,'  quod 
he,  1051 

'Be  now  na-more  agast  ne  yvel  apayed; 

1  have  thy  feith  and  thy  benignitee, 
As  wel  as  ever  womman  was,  assayed. 
In  greet  estaat,  and  povreliche  arrayed. 


I056-II24.] 


E.     THE   CLERKES   TALE. 


665 


Vv>^ 


Now   knowe    I,  dere  wyf,  thy  stcdfast- 

ncsse,' —  1056 

And  hir  in  armes  took  and  gan  hir  kesse. 

And  she  for  wonder  took  of  it  no  keep; 
She  herde  nat  what  thing  he  to  hir  seyde; 
She   fertle   as   she    had   stert    out   of    a 

sleep,  1060 

Til  she  out  of  hir  masednesse  abreyde. 
'Grisilde,'  quod  he,  '  by  god  that  for  us 

deyde, 
Thou  art  my  wyf,  ne  noon  other  I  have, 
Ne  never  hadde,  as  god  my  soule  save  ! 

This  is  thy  doghter  which  thou  hast  sup- 
posed 1065 

To  be  my  wyf;   that  other  feithfully 

Shal  l)e  niyn  heir,  as  I  have  ay  purposed; 

Thou  bare  him  in  thy  body  trewely. 

At  Boloigne  have  I  kept  hem  prively; 

Tak  hem  agayn,  for  now  maystow  nat 
seye  1070 

That  thou  hast  lorn  non  of  thy  children 
tweye.    Vs- .  ,.  ^   1  l.  ^^^  ^  .^  U>^  I  -j  < 

And  folk  that  otherweyes  han  seyd  of  me, 
I  warne  hem  wel  that  I  have  doon  this 

dede 
For  no  malice  ne  for  no  crueltee, 
But  for  tassaye  in  thee  thy  wonimanhede, 
And  nat  to  sleen  my  children,  god  for- 

bede !  1076 

15ut  for  to  kepe  hem  prively  and  stille, 
Til  I  thy  purpos  knewe  and  al  thy  wille.' 

'Whan  she  this  herde,  aswowne  doun  she 

falleth 
For  pitous  loye,  and  after  hir  swowninge 
She  bothe  hir  yonge  children  un-to  hir 
"calleth,  1081 

And  in  hir  armes,  pitously  wepinge, 
Embraceth  hem,  and  tendrely  kissinge 
Ful  lyk  a  mooder,  with  hir  salte  teres 
She    batheth    bothe    hir  visage  and    hir 

heres.  1085 

O,  which  a  pitous  thing  it  was  to  see 

II ir  swowning,  and  hir  humble  voys  to 

here ! 
'Grauntmercy,  lord,  that  thanke  I  yow,' 

quod  she, 
'That    ye    han   saved    me   my   children 

dere ! 


Now  rekke  I  never  to  ben  deed  right 
here;  loyo 

Sith  I  stonde  in  your  love  and  in  your 
grace. 

No  fors  of  deeth,  ne  whan  my  spirit  pace  ! 

0  tentlre,  o  dere,  o  yonge  children  myne, 
Your  woful  mooder  wende  stedfastly 
That    cruel    houndcs    or    som    foul    ver- 

myne  1095 

Iladde  eten  yow;    but  god,  of  his  mercy, 
And  your  benigne  fader  ti-Tulrely 
Hath  doon  yow  kept;'  and  in  that  same 

stounde 
Al  sodeynly  she  swapte  adoun  to  grounde. 

And  in  her  swough  so  sadly  holdeth  she 
Hir  children  two,  whan  she  gan  hem  tem- 

brace,  i  loi 

That  with  greet  sleighte  and  greet  diffi- 

cultee 
The  children    from  hir  arm  they  gonne 

arace. 
O  many  a  teer  on  many  a  pitous  face 
Doun   ran   of  hem    that    stoden    hir   bi- 

syde;  1105 

Unnethe  abouten  hir  mighte  they  abyde. 

Walter  hir  gladeth,  and  hir  sorwe  slaketh; 
She  ryseth  up,  abaysed,  from  hir  traunce, 
And  every  wight  hir  loye  and  feste  mak- 

eth. 
Til    she    hath   caught    agayn    hir   conte- 

naunce.  mo 

Walter  hir  dooth  so  feithfully  plesaunce, 
That  it  was  deyntee  for  to  seen  the  chere 
Bitwixe    hem    two,    now    they   ben    met 

y-fere. 

Thise  ladyes,  whan  that  they  hir  tyme  say, 
Flan  taken  hir,  anil  in-to  chambre  goon. 
And  strepen  hir  out  of  hir  rude  array,  1 1 1 6 
And  in  a  cloth  of  gold  that  brighte  shoon. 
With  a  coroune  of  many  a  riche  stoon 
Up-on  hir  hede,  they  in-to  halle  hir  broghte. 
And  ther  she  was  honoured  as  hir 
oghte.  1 1 20 

Thus  hath  this  pitous  day  a  blisful  ende, 
For  every  man  and  womman  dooth  his 

might 
This  ilay  in  murthe  and  revel  to  tlispende 
Til  on  the  welkne  shoon  the  sterres  light. 


666 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1 125-1 1 S9. 


For    more    solempne   in    every   mannes 
sight  1 1 25 

This  feste  was,  and  gretter  of  costage, 
Than  was  the  revel  of  hir  mariage. 

Ful  many  a  yeer  in  heigh  prosperitee 
Liven  thise  two  in  concord  and  in  reste, 
And  richely  his  doghter  maried  he     11 30 
Un-to  a  lord,  oon  of  the  v/orthieste 
Of  al  Itaille;    and  than  in  pees  and  reste 
His  wyves  fader  in  his  court  he  kepeth, . 
Til  that  the  soule  out  of  his  body  crepeth. 

His  sone  succedeth  in  his  heritage     1 135 
In  reste  and  pees,  after  his  fader  day; 
And  fortunat  was  eek  in  mariage, 
Al  putte  he  nat  his  wyf  in  greet  assay. 
This  world  is  nat  so  strong,  it  is  no  nay, 
As  it  hath  been  in  olde  tymes  yore,   1 14b 
And   herkneth  what   this   auctour   seith 
therfore. 

This   storie  is  seyd,  nat   for   that  wyves 

sholde 
Folvven  Grisilde  as  in  humilitee, 
For  it  were  importable,  though  they  wolde ; 
But    for    that    every   wight,    in    his    de- 
gree, 1 145 
Sholde  be  constant  in  adversitee 
As  was  Grisilde;    therfor  Petrark  wryteth 
This   storie,  which  with  heigh  style  he 
endyteth. 

For,  sith  a  womman  was  so  pacient 
Un-to  a  mortal  man,  wel  more  us  oghte 
Recey  ven  al  in  gree  that  god  us  sent ;  1 1 5 1 
For  greet  skile  is,  he  preve  that  he  wroghte. 
But  he  ne  tempteth  no  man  that  he  boghte. 
As  seith  seint  lame,  if  ye  hisyiistel  rede, 
He  preveth  folk  al  day,  it  is  no  drede,  1 155 

And  suffreth  us,  as  for  our  excercyse, 
With  sharpe  scourges  of  adversitee 


Ful  ofte  to  be  bete  in  sondry  wyse; 
Nat  for  to  knowe  our  wil,  for  certes  he. 
Ere  we  were    born,  knew  al    our    frele- 
tee;  1160 

And  for  our  beste  is  al  his  governaunce; 
Lat  us  than  live  in  vertuous  suffraunce.* 

But  o  word,  lordinges,  herkneth  er  I  go  :  — 
It  were  ful  hard  to  tinde  now  a  dayes 
In  al  a  toun  Grisildes  three  or  two;  1165 
For,  if  that  they  were  put  to  swiche  assayes, 
The  gold  of  hem  hath  now  so  badde  alaye^ 
With  bras,  that  thogh  the  coyne  be  fair  at 

ye, 

It  wolde  rather  breste  a-two  than  plye. 
For  which   heer,  for   the  wyves  love  of 


Bathe 


1 1 70 


Whos  lyf  and  al  hir  secte  god  mayntene 
In  heigh  maistrye,  and  elles  were  it  scathe, 
I  wol  with  lusty  herte  fresshe  and  grene 
Seyn  yow  a  song  to  glade  yow,  I  wene. 
And  lat  us  stinte  of  ernestful  matere  :  — 
Herkneth  my  song,  that  seith  in  this  man- 
ere.  j  1 76 

I. envoy  de  Chancer. 
Grisilde  is  deed,  and  eek  hir  pacience, 
And  bothe  atones  buried  in  Itaille; 
For  which  I  crye  in  open  audience,  11 79 
No  wedded  man  so  hardy  be  tassaille 
His  wyves  pacience,  in  hope  to  tinde 
Grisildes,  for  in  certein  he  shall  faille ! 

O  noble  wyves,  ful  of  heigh  prudence, 
Lat  noon  humilitee  your  tonge  naille, 
Ne  lat  no  clerk  have  cause  or  diligence 
To  wryte  of  yow  a  storie  of  swich  mer- 

vaille  u86 

As  of  Grisildis  pacient  and  kinde; 
Lest   Chichevache    yow   swelwe   in    hir 

entraille ! 
Folweth  Ekko,  that  holdeth  no  silence, 


*  It  seems  to  have  been  Chaucer's  intention, 
in  the  first  instance,  to  end  this  Tale  here. 
Hence,  wc  find,  in  MSS.  E.  Hn.  Cm.  Dd., 
the  following  genuine,  but  rejected  stanza, 
suitable  for  insertion  at  this  point :  — 

Bihold  the  mcrye  wordes  of  the  Hoste. 

This  worthy  Clerk,  whan  ended  was  his  tale, 
Our  hoste  seyde,  and  swoor  by  goddes  bones, 


'  Me  were  lever  than  a  barel  ale 

My  wyf  at  hoom    had   herd   this    legende 

ones ; 
This  is  a  gentil  tale  for  the  nones, 
As  to  my  purpos,  wiste  ye  my  wille  ; 
But  thing  that  wol  nat  be,  lat  it  be  stille.' 

Here  endeth  the  Talc  of  the  Clerk  of 
Oxenford. 


1 190-1244-] 


E.     TIIK    MERCHANTS    PROLOGUE. 


667 


liut    evere    answereth    at    the    countre- 
taille;  1 190 

lieth  nat  bidaffed  for  your  innocence, 
l)Ut  sharply  tak  on  yow  the  govcrnaille. 
Eiuprintcth  wel  this  lesson  in  your  niinde 
For  commune  profit,  sith  it  may  availle. 

Ve  archewyves,  stondeth  at  defence,  1 195 
Sin  yc  he  stronj^e  as  is  a  greet  camaille; 
Ne    sufi'reth    nat    that    men    yow   doon 

offence. 
And  sclendre  wyves,  feble  as  in  bataille, 
Beth  egre  as  is  a  tygre  yond  in  Inde; 
Ay   clappeth   as  a    mille,    I    yow    con- 

saille.  I2CX) 

Ne  dreed  hem  nat,  do  hem    no    rever- 
ence; 

Here  endcth  the  Clerk 


For  though  thyn  housbonde  armed  be  in 

maille, 
The  arwes  of  thy  cral)bed  eloquence 
Shal  perce  his  brest,  and   eek   his  aven- 

taille; 
In  lalousye  I  rede  eek  thou  him  binde. 
And    thou    shalt    make    him    couche    as 

dooth  a  quaille.  1206 

If  thou  be  fair,  ther  folk  ben  in  presence 
Shew  thou  thy  visage  and  thyn    ap[)ar- 

aille; 
If  thou  be  foul,  be  free  of  thy  dispence, 
To  gete  thee  freendes    ay  do   thy   trav- 

aille;  1 210 

Be  ay  of  chere  as  light  as  leef  on  linde, 
And  lat  him  care,  and  wepe,  and  wringe, 

and  waille  ! 
of  Oxonford  his  Tale. 


THE  MERCHANT'S  PROLOGUE. 


The  Prologe  of  the  Marchaiites  Tale. 

•  Wepinc;  and  wayling,  care,  and  other 

sorwe 
I  know  y-nogh,  on  even  and  a-morwe,' 
Quod  the  Marchaunt, '  and  so  don  othere 

mo  1215 

That  wedded  been,  I  trowe  that  it  be  so. 
For,  wel  I  woot,  it  fareth  so  with  me. 
I  have  a  wyf,  the  worste  that  may  be; 
For    thogh  the   feend    to  hir   y-coupled 

were, 
She  wolde    him   overmacche,  I  dar  wel 

swere.  1220 

What  sholde  I  yow  reherce  in  special 
Hir  hye  malice?  she  is  a  shrewe  at  al. 
Ther  is  a  long  and  large  difference 
Ijitwix  Clrisildis  grete  pacience 
And  of  my  wyf  the  passing  crueltee.  1225 
Were  I  unbounden,  al-so  moot  I  thee  ! 
I  wolde  never  eft  comen  in  the  snare. 


We  wedded  men  live  in  sorwe  and  care; 
Assaye  who-so  wol,  and  he  shal  finde 
I  seye  sooth,  by  seint  Thomas  of  Inde, 
As  for  the  more  part,  I  sey  nat  alle.  1231 
God  shilde  that  it  sholde  so  bifalle ! 
A !   good  sir  boost !   I   have  y-wedded 

be 
Thise  monthestwo,and  more  nat,  pardee; 
And  yet,  I  trowe,  he  that  all  his  lyve 
Wyflees    hath    been,    though    that    men 

wolde  him  ryve  1236 

Un-to  the  herte,  ne  coude  in  no  manere 
Tellen  so  muchel  sorwe,  as  I  now  here 
Coude  tellen  of  my  wyves  cursednesse  !  ' 
'Now,'    quod  our  hoost,  'Marchaunt, 

so  god  yow  blesse,  1240 

Sin  ye  so  muchel  knowen  of  that  art, 
Ful  hertely  I  pray  yow  telle  us  part.' 
'Gladly,'  quod  he,  'but  of  myn  owene 

sore, 
For  sory  herte,  I  telle  may  na-more.' 


668 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1 245-1 3 1 6. 


THE   MARCHANTES  TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Marchantes  Tale. 

WiiYi.oM   ther  was   dwelliiige  in   Lum- 

bardye  i 245 

A  worthy  knight,  that  born  was  of  Pavye, 
In  which  he  lived  in  greet  prosperitee; 
And  sixty  yeer  a  wyflees  man  was  he, 
And  folwed  ay  his  bodily  delyt 
On  wommen,  ther-as  was  his  appetyt,  1 250 
As  doon  thise  foles  that  ben  seculeer. 
And  whan  that  he  was  passed  sixty  yeer, 
Were  it  for  holinesse  or  for  dotage, 
I  can  nat  seye,  but  swich  a  greet  corage 
Hadde   this   knight   to  been   a  wedded 

man,  1255 

That  day  and  night  he  dooth  al  that  he 

can 
Tespyen  where  he  mighte  wedded  be; 
Preyinge  our  lord  to  granten  him,  that 

he 
Mighte  ones  knowe  of  thilke  blisful  lyf 
That    is    bitwixe    an    housbond   and    his 

wyf ;  1 260 

And  for  to  live  under  that  holy  bond 
With    which    that    first    god    man    and 

womman  bond. 
'Non  other   lyf,'  seyde  he,  'is  worth  a 

bene; 
For  wedlok  is  so  esy  and  so  clene. 
That  in  this  world  it  is  a  paradys.'      1265 
Thus  seyde  this  olde  knight,  that  was  so 

wys. 
And  certeinly,  as  sooth  as  god  is  king. 
To  take  a  wyf,  it  is  a  glorious  thing, 
And    namely    whan    a    man    is  old    and 

hoor; 
Thanne  is  a  wyf  the  fruit  of  his  tresor. 
Than  sholde  he  take  a  yong  wyf  and  a 

feir,  1 27 1 

On  which  he  mighte  engendren  him  an 

heir. 
And  lede  his  lyf  in  loye  and  in  solas, 
Wher-as  thise  bacheleres  singe  '  alias,' 
Whan  that  they  finden  any  adversitee 
In  love,  which  nis  but  childish  vanitee. 
And  trewely  it  sit  vvel  to  be  so,  1277 

That  bacheleres  have  often   peyne   and 

wo; 


On    Ijrotel     ground     they    builde,    and 

brotelnesse  1279 

They  linde,  whan  they  wene  sikernesse. 
They  live  but  as  a  brid  or  as  a  beste. 
In  libertee,  and  under  non  areste, 
Ther-as  a  wedded  man  in  his  estaat 
Liveth  a  lyf  blisful  and  ordinaat. 
Under  the  yok  of  mariage  y-bounde; 
Wei  may  his  herte   in   loye   and  blisse 

habounde.  1286 

For  who  can  be  so  buxom  as  a  wyf  ? 
Who  is  so  trewe,  and  eek  so  ententyf 
To  kepe  him,  syk   and   hool,  as   is   his 

make  ? 
For  wele  or  wo,  she  wol  him  nat  for- 
sake. 1290 
She  nis  nat  wery  him  to  love  and  serve, 
Thogh  that  he  lye  bedrede  til  he  sterve. 
And  yet  somme  clerkes  seyn,  it  nis  nat  so, 
Of  whiche  he,  Theofraste,  is  oon  of  tho. 
What  force  though  Theofraste  liste  lye  ? 
'  Ne  take  no  wyf,'  quod  he,  '  for    hous- 

bondrye,  1296 

As   for  to   spare   in   houshold    thy   dis- 

pence; 
A  trewe  servant  dooth  more  diligence. 
Thy    good    to    kepe,    than    thyn    owene 

wyf.  1299 

For  she  wol  clay  me  half  part  al  hir  lyf; 
And  if  that  thou  be  syk,  so  god  me  save, 
Thy  verray  frendes  or  a  trewe  knave 
Wol  kepe  thee  bet  than  she  that  waiteth 

ay 
After  thy  good,  and  hath  don  many  a  day.' 
And  if  thou  take  a  wyf  un-to  thyn  hold, 
Ful  lightly  maystow  been  a  cokewold. 
This  sentence,  and  an  hundred  thingcs 

worse,  1307 

Wryteth   this  man,   ther  god   his   bones 

corse  ! 
But  take  no  kepe  of  al  swich  vanitee; 
Deffye  Theofraste  and  herke  me.       1310 

A  wyf  is  goddes  yifte  verraily; 
Alle  other  maner  yiftes  hardily. 
As  londes,  rentes,  pasture,  or  commune. 
Or  moebles,  alle  ben  yiftes  of  fortune,  1314 
That  passen  as  a  shad  we  upon  a  wal. 
But  dredelees,  if  pleynly  speke  I  shal. 


1 317-1390.] 


E.     THE   MARCHANTES  TALE. 


669 


A  wyf  wol  laste,  and  in  thyn  hous  en- 
dure, 
Wei  lenger  than  thee  list,  paraventure. 

Maria<^e  is  a  ful  gret  sacrement; 
He  which  that  hath  no  wyf,  1  holde  him 

shent;  1 320 

lie  liveth  helplees  and  al  desolat, 
I  speke  of  folk  in  secular  estaat. 
And  herke  why,  I  sey  nat  this  for  noght. 
That    womman     is     for     mannes     help 

y-wroght. 
The   hye   god,   whan   he    hadde   Adam 

maked,  1325 

And  saugh  him  al  allone,  bely-naked, 
God  of  his  grete  goodnesse  seyde  than, 
*  Lat  us  now  make  an  help  un-to  this 

man 
Lyk  to  him-self;  '  and  thanne  he  made 

him  Eve. 
Heer  may   ye  se,  and  heer-by  may  ye 

preve,  1330 

That  wyf  is  mannes  help  and  his  confort. 
His  paradys  terrestre  and  his  disport. 
So  buxom  and  so  vertuous  is  she, 
They  moste  nedes  live  in  unitee. 
O   flesh    they   been,   and   o   flesh,   as   I 

gesse,  1335 

Hath  but  on  herte,  in  wele  and  in  dis- 

tresse. 
A  wyf !  a!  Se'mte  Marie,  denet^tciU  f 
How  mighte  a  man  han  any  adversitee 
That  hath  a  wyf?  certes,  I  can  nat  seye. 
The    blisse   which    that    is    bitwixe    hem 

tweye  1 340 

Ther  may  no  tonge  telle,  or  herte  thinke. 
If    he    be    povre,    she    helpeth    him    to 

swinke; 
She  kepeth  his  good,  and  wasteth  never 

a  deel; 
Al   that  hir  housbonde  lust,   hir  lyketh 

weel; 
She  seith  not  ones  '  nay,'  whan  he  seith 

'ye.'  1345 

'Do  this,'  seith  he;   '  al  redy,  sir,'  seith 

she. 
O  blisful  ordre  of  wedlok  precious, 
Thou  art  so  mery,  and  eek  so  vertuous. 
And  so  commended  and  appreved  eek. 
That    every  man  that  halt  him  worth  a 

leek,  1350 

Up-on  his  bare  knees  oghte  al  his  lyf 
Thanken  his  god  that  him  hath  scut  a 

wyf; 


Or  elles  preye  to  god  him  for  to  sende 
A  wyf,  to  laste  un-to  his  lyves  entle.  1354 
For  thanne  his  lyf  is  set  in  sikernesse; 
He  may  nat  be  deceyved,  as  I  gesse, 
So  that  he  werke  after  his  wyves  reed; 
Than  may  he  boldly  beren  up  his  heed, 
They  been  so  trewe  and  ther-with-al  so 

wyse ; 
For  which,  if  thou  wolt  werken  as  the 

wyse,  1 360 

Do  alwey  so  as  wommen  wol  thee  rede. 
Lo,  how  that    lacob,  as  thise  clerkes 

rede. 
By  good  conseil  of  his  moder  Rebekke, 
Bond  the  kides  skin  aboute  his  nekke; 
Thurgh    which    his    fadres    benisoun    he 

wan.  1365 

Lo,  ludith,  as  the  storie  eek  telle  can, 
By  wys  conseil  she  goddes  peple  kepte. 
And    slow    him,     Olofernus,    whyl     he 

slepte. 
Lo  Abigayl,  by  good  conseil  how  she 
Saved  hir  housbond  Nabal,  whan  that  he 
Sholde  han  be  slayn;    and   loke.  Ester 

also  1 37 1 

By  good  conseil  delivered  out  of  wo 
The  peple  of  god,  and  made  him,  Mar- 

dochee. 
Of  Assuere  enhaunced  for  to  be.        1374 

Ther  nis  no-thing  in  gree  superlatyf. 
As  seith  Senek,  above  an  humble  wyf. 
Suftre  thy  wyves  tonge,  as  Caton  bit; 
She  shal  comande,  and  thou  shalt  suffren 

it; 
And  yet  she  wol  obeye  of  curteisye. 
A  wyf  is  keper  of  thyn  housbondrye;  13S0 
Wei   may   the    syke    man    biwaille   and 

wepe, 
Ther-as   ther   nis   no   wyf    the   hous   to 

kepe. 
I  warne  thee,  if  wysly  thou  wolt  wirche. 
Love   wel  thy   wyf,   as    Crist    loveth    his 

chirche. 
If  thou   lovest   thy-self,  thou  lovest  thy 

wyf;  13S5 

No  man  hateth  his  flesh,  but  in  his  lyf 
He    fostreth    it,    and   therfore    bidde    1 

thee, 
Cherisse   thy   wyf,  or   thou   shalt   never 

thee. 
Housbond  and  wyf,  what  so  men  lape  i<v 

pleye,  13S9 

Of  worldly  folk  hulden  the  siker  weye; 


670 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1391-1472. 


They  been  so  knit,  ther  may  noon  harm 

bityde ; 
And  namely,  up-on  the  wyves  syde. 
For    which    this    lanuarie,   of   whom    I 

tolde, 
Considered  hath,  invvith  his  dayes  olde, 
The  lusty  lyf,  the  vertuous  quiete,     1395 
That  is  in  mariage  hony-swete; 
And  for  his  freendes  on  a  day  he  sente, 
To  tellen  hem  theffect  of  his  entente. 
With  face  said,  his  tale  he  hath  hem 
told; 
He  seyde,  '  freendes,  I  am  hoor  and  old. 
And    almost,    god    wot,   on    my    pittes 
brinke;  1401 

Up-on  my  soule  somvvhat  moste  I  thinke. 
I  have  my  body  folily  despended; 
Blessed     be     god,    that     it    shal     been 

amended ! 
For  I  wol  be,  certeyn,  a  wedded  man, 
And  that  anoon  in  al  the  haste  I  can, 
Un-to  som  mayde  fair  and  tendre  of  age. 
I  prey  yow,  shapeth  for  my  mariage 
Al  sodeynly,  for  I  wol  nat  abyde;       1409 
And  I  wol  fonde  tespyen,  on  my  syde. 
To  whom  I  may  be  wedded  hastily. 
But  for-as-muche  as  ye  ben  mo  than  I, 
Ye  shullen  rather  swich  a  thing  espyen 
Than  I,  and  wher  me  best  were  to  allyen. 
But  o  thing  warne  I  yow,  my  freendes 
dere,  1415 

I  wol  non  old  wyf  han  in  no  manere. 
She  shal  nat  passe  twenty  yeer,  certayn; 
Old  fish  and  yong  flesh  wolde  I  have  ful 

fayn. 
Bet  is,'  quod  he,  'a  pyk  than  a  pikerel; 
And  bet  than  old  boef  is  the  tendre  veel. 
I  wol  no  womman  thritty  yeer  of  age. 
It  is  but  bene-stravv  and  greet  forage. 
And  eek  thise  olde  widwes,  god  it  woot, 
They  conne  so  muchel  craft  on  Wades 

boot, 
So  muchel  broken  harm,  whan  that  hem 
leste,  1425 

That  with   hem  sholde  I   never  live  in 

reste. 
For  sondry  scoles  maken  sotil  clerkis; 
Womman  of  manye  scoles  half  a  clerk  is. 
But   certeynly,  a  yong   thing   may  men 

gye, 

Right  as  men  may  warm  wex  with  handes 
plye.  1430 

Wherfore  I  sey  yow  pleynly,  in  a  clause, 


I  wol  non  old  wyf  han    right   for   this 

cause. 
For   if   so   were,    I    hadde    swich    mis- 

chaunce, 
That  I  in  hir  ne  coude  han  no  plesaunce. 
Thanne  sholde  I  lede  my  lyf  in  avoutrye. 
And  go  streight  to   the  devel,  whan    I 
dye.  1436 

Ne    children   sholde  I    none   up-on   hir 

geten; 
Yet  were  me  lever  houndes  had  me  eten, 
Than  that  myn  heritage  sholde  falle 
In  straunge  hand,  and   this    I   tell  yow 
alle.  1440 

I  dote  nat,  I  woot  the  cause  why 
Men  sholde  wedde,  and  forthermore  wot 

I, 
Ther  speketh  many  a  man  of  mariage. 
That  woot  na-more  of  it  than  woot  my 

page. 
For   whiche    causes  man  sholde  take  a 
wyf.  1445 

If  he  ne  may  nat  liven  chast  his  lyf. 
Take  him  a  wyf  with  greet  devocioun, 
By-cause  of  leveful  procreacioun 
Of  children,  to  thonour  of  god  above, 
And  nat  only  for  paramour  or  love;  1450 
And  for  they  sholde  lecherye  eschue. 
And  yelde  hir  dettes  whan  that  they  ben 

due; 
Or   for  that  ech  of  hem  sholde  helpen 

other 
In  meschief,  as  a  suster  shal  the  brother; 
And  live  in  chastitee  ful  holily.  1455 

But  sires,  by  your  leve,  that  am  nat  I. 
For  god  be  thanked,  I  dar  make  avaunt, 
I  fele  my  limes  stark  and  suffisaunt 
To  do  al  that  a  man  bilongeth  to; 
I  woot  my-selven  best  what  I  may  do.  1460 
Though  I  be  hoor,  I  fare  as  dooth  a  tree 
That  blosmeth  er  that  fruyt  y-woxen  be; 
A  blosmy  tree  nis  neither  drye  ne  deed. 
I  fele  me  nowher  hoor  but  on  myn  heed; 
Myn   herte   and   alle   my  limes  been  as 
grene  1465 

As  laurer  thurgh  the  yeer  is  for  to  sene. 
And  sin  that  ye  han  herd  al  myn  entente, 
I  prey  yow  to  my  wil  ye  wole  assente.' 

Diverse  men  diversely  him  tolde 
Of  mariage  manye  ensamples  olde.    1470 
Somme  blamed  it,  somme  preysed  it,  cer- 
teyn; 
But  atte  laste,  shortly  for  to  seyn. 


1473-1564-] 


E.    THE   MARCHANTES  TALE. 


671 


As  al  day  falleth  altercacioun 
Bitwixen  frecndes  in  disputisoun,        1474 
Ther  HI  a  stryf  hitwixc  his  hrctheren  two, 
Of  whichc  that  ddii  was  clcpcd  Placebo, 
lustinus  sootlily  called  was  that  other. 
Placebo  seyile,  '  o  lanuarie,  brother, 
Ful  litel  nede  had  ye,  my  lord  so  dere, 
Conseil  to  axe  of  any  that  is  here;      1480 
But  that  ye  been  so  ful  of  sapience. 
That   yow    ne   lyketh,   for   your    heighe 

prudence. 
To  weyven  fro  the  word  of  Salomon. 
This  word  seyde  he  un-to  us  everichon; 
"  Wirk  alle  thing  by  conseil,"  thus  seyde 

he,  1485 

"  And  thanne  shaltow  nat  repente  thee." 
But  though  that  Salomon  spak  swich  a 

word, 
Myn  owene  dere  brother  and  my  lord. 
So  wisly  god  my  soule  bringe  at  reste, 
I     hold     your    owene     conseil    is    the 

beste.  1490 

For  brother  myn,  of  me  tak  this  motyf, 
I  have  now  been  a  court-man  al  my  lyf. 
And  god  it  woot,  though  I  unworthy  be, 
I  have  stonden  in  ful  greet  degree 
Abouten  lordes  of  ful  heigh  estaat;    1495 
Yet  hadde  I  never  with  noon  of  hem  de- 

baat. 
I  never  hem  contraried,  trewely; 
I  woot  wel  that  my  lord  can  more  than  I. 
What  that  he  seith,  I  holde  it  ferme  and 

stable;  1499 

I  seye  the  same,  or  elles  thing  semblable. 
A  ful  gret  fool  is  any  conseillour, 
That  serveth  any  lord  of  heigh  honour, 
That  dar  presume,  or  elles  thenken  it. 
That  his  conseil  sholde  passe  his  lordes 

wit. 
Nay,  lordes  been  no  foles,  by  my  fay;  1505 
Ye  han  your-selven  shewed  heer  to-day 
So  heigh  sentence,  so  holily  and  weel. 
That  1  consente  and  conferme  every-deel 
Your  wordes  alle,  and  your  opinion.  1509 
By  god,  ther  nis  no  man  in  al  this  toun 
Nin  al  Itaille,  that  coude  bet  han  sayd; 
Crist  halt  him  of  this  conseil  wel  apayd. 
And  trewely,  it  is  an  heigh  corage 
Of  any  man,  that  stopen  is  in  age,      1 5^4 
To  take  a  yong  wyf;    by  my  fader  kin, 
Your  herte  hangeth  on  a  loly  pin. 
Doth    now  in  this   matere  right  as  yow 

leste, 


For  finally  I  holde  it  for  the  beste.' 

lustinus,  that  ay  stille  sat  and  herde, 
Right  in  this  wyse  to  Placebo  answerde : 
'  Now  brother  myn,  be  pacient,  I  preye, 
Sin  ye  han  seyd,  and    hcrkncth  what  I 

seye.  1522 

Senek  among  his  othere  wordes  wyse 
Seith,  that  a  man  oghte  him   right  wel 

avyse. 
To   whom    he    yeveth   his   lond   or   his 

catel.  1525 

And  sin  I  oghte  avyse  me  right  wel 
To  whom  I  yeve  my  good  awey  fro  me, 
Wel  muchel  more  I  oghte  avysed  be 
To  whom  I  yeve  my  body;   for  alwey 
I  warne  yow  wel,  it  is  no  childes  pley  1530 
To  take  a  wyf  with-oute  avysement. 
Men  moste  enquere,  this  is  myn  assent, 
Whershe  be  wys,  or  sobre,  or  dronkelewe, 
Or  proud,  or  elles  other-weys  a  shrewe; 
A  chydester,  or  wastour  of  thy  good,  1535 
Or  riche,  or  poore,  or  elles  mannish  wood. 
Al-be-it  so  that  no  man  fmden  shal 
Noon  in  this  world  that  trotteth  hool  in  al, 
Ne  man  ne  beest,  swich  as  men  coude 

devyse; 
But  nathelees,  it  oghte  y-nough  sufifise  1 540 
With  any  wyf,  if  so  were  that  she  hadde 
Mo  gode  thewes  than  hir  vyces  badde; 
And  al  this  axeth  leyser  for  tenquere. 
For  god  it  woot,  I  have  wept   many  a 

tere 
Ful  prively,  sin  I  have  had  a  wyf.       1545 
Preyse  who-sowole  a  wedded  mannes  lyf, 
Certein,  I  finde  in  it  but  cost  and  care, 
And  observances,  of  alle  blisses  bare. 
And    yet,    god    woot,    my    neighebores 

aboute,  1549 

And  namely  of  wommen  many  a  route, 
Seyn  that  I  have  the  moste  stedefast  wyf. 
And  eek  the  mekeste  oon  that  bereth  lyf. 
But  I  wot  best  wher  wringeth  me  my  sho. 
Ye  mowe,  for  me,  right  as  yow  lyketh  do; 
Avyseth  yow,  ye  been  a  man  of  age,  1555 
How  that  ye  entren  in-to  mariage. 
And  namely  with  a  yong  wyf  and  a  fair. 
By  him  that  made  water,  erthe,  and  air. 
The  yongest  man  that  is  in  al  this  route 
Is  bisy  y-nogh  to  bringen  it  aboute     1560 
To  han  his  wyf  allone,  trusteth  me. 
Ye  shul  nat  plese  hir  fully  yeres  three. 
This  is  to  seyn,  to  doon  hir  ful  plesaunco. 
A  wyf  axeth  ful  many  an  observauncc. 


672 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1565-1638. 


I  prey  yow  that  ye  be  nat  yvel  apayd.'  1 565 
'  Wei,'  quod  this  lanuarie, '  and  hastow 

sayd  ? 
Straw  for   thy  Senek,  and  for  thy  prov- 

erbes, 
I  counte  nat  a  panierful  of  herbes 
Of  scole-termes;    wyser  men  than  thow, 
As    thou    hast    herd,    assenteden   right 

now  1570 

To  my  purpos;   Placebo,  what  sey  ye  ? ' 
'  I  seye,  it  is  a  cursed  man,'  quod  he, 
'That  letteth  matrimoine,  sikerly.' 
And  with  that  word  they  rysen  sodeynly, 
And  been  assented  fully,  that  he  sholde 
Be  wedded  whanne  him  list  and  wher  he 

wolde.  1576 

Heigh  fantasye  and  curious  bisinesse 
Fro  day  to  day  gan  in  the  soule  impresse 
Of  lanuarie  aboute  his  mariage.         ^579 
Many  fair  shap,  and  many  a  fair  visage 
Ther  passeth  thurgh  his  herte,  night  by 

night. 
As  who-so  toke  a  mirour  polished  bright, 
And  sette  it  in  a  commune  market-place, 
Than  sholde  he  see  many  a  figure  pace 
By  his  mirour;  and,  in  the  same  wyse,  1585 
Gan  lanuarie  inwith  his  thoght  devyse 
Of  maydens,  whiche  that   dwelten   him 

bisyde. 
He  wiste  nat  wher  that  he  mighte  abyde. 
For  if  that  oon  have  beaute  in  hir  face, 
Another  stant  so  in  the  peples  grace  1 590 
For  hir  sadnesse,  and  hir  benignitee. 
That  of  the  peple  grettest  voys  hath  she. 
And   somme   were    riche,   and    hadden 

badde  name. 
But  nathelees,  bitwixe  ernest  and  game, 
He  atte  laste  apoynted  him  on  oon,  1595 
And  leet  alle  othere  from  his  herte  goon, 
And  chees  hir  of  his  owene  auctoritee; 
For  love  is  blind  al  day,  and  may  nat  see. 
And  whan  that  he  was  in  his  bedy-broght, 
He   purtreyed,  in   his   herte   and  in   his 

thoght,  1600 

Hir  fresshe  beautee  and  hir  age  tendre, 
Hir  myddel  smal,  hir  armes  longe  and 

sclendre, 
Hir  wyse  governaunce,  hir  gentillesse, 
Hir  wommanly  beringe  and  hir  sadnesse. 
And  whan   that    he    on   hir  was   conde- 
scended, 1605 
Him  thoughte  his  chois  mighte  nat  ben 

amended. 


For   whan    that    he    him-self    concluded 
hadde, 

Him  thoughte  ech  other  mannes  wit  so 
badde, 

That  inpossible  it  were  to  replye 

Agayn    his    chois,    this    was    his    fan- 
tasye. 1610 

His  freendes  sente  he  to  at  his  instaunce, 

And    preyed     hem    to    doon    him    that 
plesaunce. 

That  hastily  they  wolden  to  him  come; 

He  wolde  abregge   hir  labour,  alle  and 
some. 

Nedeth    na-more    for    him    to    go    ne 
ryde,  1615 

He  was  apoynted  ther  he  wolde  abyde. 
Placebo    cam,    and    eek    his    freendes 
sone. 

And  alderfirst  he  bad  hem  alle  a  bone, 

That    noon    of    hem    none    argumentes 
make 

Agayn  the  purpos  which   that  he  hath 
take;  1620 

'  Which    purpos   was    plesant    to    god,' 
seyde  he, 

*  And  verray  ground  of  his  prosperitee.' 
He  seyde,  ther  was  a  mayden  in  the 
toun, 

Which  that  of  beautee  hadde  greet  re- 
noun, 

Al     were     it     so     she     were     of     smal 
degree;  1625 

^uffyseth  him  hir  youthe  and  hir  beautee. 

Which  niayde,  he  seyde,  he  wolde  han  to 
his  wyf, 

To  lede  in  ese  and  holinesse  his  lyf. 

And  thanked  god,  that  he  mighte  han 
hire  al. 

That    no    wight    of    his    blisse    parten 
shal.  1630 

And  preyde  hem  to  labouren  in  this  nede, 

And  shapen  that  he  faille  nat  to  spede; 

For  thanne,  he  seyde,  his  spirit  was  at 
ese. 

'Thanne  is,'  quod  he,  'no-thing  may  me 
displese, 

Save    o    thing     priketh     in     my    con- 
science, 1635 

The  which  I  wol  reherce  in  your  pres- 
ence. 
I  have,'  quod  he,  '  herd  seyd,  ful  yore 
ago, 

Ther  may  no  man  han  parfite  blisses  two, 


I639-I7I7-] 


E.    THE   MARCIIANTES  TALE. 


673 


This   is   to   seye,  in    erthe   and   eek   in 

hevene. 
For  though  he  kepe  him  fro  the  sinnes 

sevene,  1640 

And  eek   from  every  branche  of  thilke 

tree, 
Yet  is  ther  so  parfit  felicitee, 
And  so  greet  ese  and  lust  in  mariagc, 
That  ever  I  am  agast,  now  in  myn  age, 
T-frat  T  siraJ  lede  now  so  menrirtyTrT64 5 
SoTlelicat,  vvith-outen  wo  and  stryt, 
That  I  shal  have  myn  hevene   in  erthe 

here. 
For  sith  that  verray  hevene  is  boght  so 

dere, 
With  triljulacioun  and  greet  penaunce, 
How  sholde  I  thanne,  that  Hve  in  swich 

plesaunce  1650 

As  alle  wedded  men  don  with  hir  wyvis, 
Come  to  the  blisse  ther  Crist  eterne  on 

lyve  is? 
This  is  my  drede,  and  ye,  my  bretheren 

tweye, 
Assoilleth  me  this  questioun,  I  preye.' 
lustinus,      which      that      hated      his 

folye,  1655 

Answerde  anon,  right  in  his  laperye; 
And  for  he  vvolde  his  longe  tale  abregge. 
He  wolde  noon  auctoritee  allegge. 
But  seyde,  '  sire,  so  ther  be  noon  obstacle 
Other  than  this,  god  of  his  hye  mir- 
acle 1660 
And  of  his  mercy  may  so  for  yow  wirche, 
That,    er   ye    have    your   right   of    holy 

chirche, 
Ye  may  repente  of  wedded  mannes  lyf, 
In  which  ye  seyn  ther  is  no  wo  ne  stryf. 
And  elles,  god  forbede  but  he  sente   1665 
A  wedded  man  him  grace  to  repente 
Wei  ofte  rather  than  a  sengle  man  ! 
And  therfore,  sire,  the  beste  reed  I  can, 
Dispeire  yow  noght,   but    have    in    your 

memorie, 
Paraunter    she     may    be     your    purga- 

torie !  1670 

She  may  be  goddes  mene,  and  goddes 

whippe; 
Than  shal  your  soule  up  to  hevene  skippe 
Swifter  than  dooth  an   arwe  out  of   the 

bowc  ! 
I  hope  to  god,  her-after  shul  ye  knowe. 
That  their  nis  no  so  greet  felicitee     1675 
In  mariage,  ne  never-mo  shal  be, 


That  yow  shal  lette  of  your  savacioun, 
So  that  ye  use,  as  skile  is  and  resuun. 
The  lustes  of  your  wyf  attemprely. 
And    that   ye    plese    hir   nat    to    amor- 
ously, 1680 
And  that  ye  kepe  yow  eek  from  other 

sinne. 
My  tale  is  doon  :  —  for  my  wit  is  tliinne. 
Beth  nat  agast  her-of,  my  brother  dere.'  — 
(Rut  lat  us  waden  out  of  this  matere. 
The  Wyf  of   Bathe,    if   ye    han    untler- 
stonde,  1685 

Of  mariage,  which  we  have  on  honde. 
Declared  hath  ful  wel  in  litel  space). — 
'  Fareth  now  wel,  god   have  yow  in  his 
grace.' 
Antl  with  this  word  this  Justin  and  his 
brother 
Han  take   hir  leve,  and  ech  of  hem  (jf 
other.  1690 

For  whan  they  sawe  it  moste  nedes  be. 
They  wroghten  so,  by  sly  and  wys  tretee. 
That  she,  this  mayden,  which  that  Maius 

highte. 
As  hastily  as  ever  that  she  mighte, 
Shal  wedded  be  un-to  this  lanuaric.  1695 
I  trowe  it  were  to  longe  yow  to  tarie. 
If  I  yow  tolde  of  every  scrit  and  bond. 
By  which  that  she  was  feffed  in  his  lond; 
Or  for  to  herknen  of  hir  riche  array. 
But  finally  y-comen  is  the  day  1700 

That  to  the  chirche  bothe  be  they  went 
For  to  receyve  the  holy  sacrement. 
Forth  comth  the  preest,  with  stole  aboute 

his  nekke, 
And  bad  hir  be  lyk  Sarra  and  Rebekke, 
In     wisdom     and     in     trouthe     of     ma- 
riage; 1705 
And  seyde  his  orisons,  as  is  usage. 
And  crouched  hem,  and  bad  god  sholde 

hem  blesse. 
And  made  al  siker  y-nogh  with  holinesse. 
Thus  been  they  wedded  with  solemp- 
nitee. 
And  at  the  festc  sitteth  he  and  she    1 7 10 
With  other  -.vorthy  folk  up-on  the  deys. 
Al  ful  of  love  and  blisse  is  the  paleys. 
And  ful  of  instruments  and  of  vitaille. 
The  m,)ste  deyntevous  of  al  Itaille. 
liilorn  hem  stoode  swiche  instruments  of 
soun,  1715 

That  Orpheus,  ne  of  Thebes  Amphioun, 
Ne  maden  never  swich  a  melodye. 


674 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1 718-1798. 


At   every  cours   than  cam   loud  min- 

straleye, 
That  never  tromped  loab,  for  to  here, 
Nor  he,  Theodomas,  yet  half  so  clere,  1 720 
At  Thebes,  whan  the  citee  was  in  doute. 
Bacus  the  wyn  hem  skinketh  al  aboute. 
And  Venus  laugheth  up-on  every  wight. 
For  lanuarie  was  bicome  hir  knight, 
And  wolde  bothe  assayen  his  corage  1725 
In  libertee,  and  eek  in  mariage; 
And  with  hir  fyrbrond  in  hir  hand  aboute 
Daunceth   biforn  the   bryde  and  al  the 

route. 
And  certeinly,  I  dar  right  wel  seyn  this, 
Ymeneus,  that  god  of  wedding  is,      1730 
Saugh  never  his  lyf  so  mery  a  wedded 

man. 
Hold  thou  thy  pees,  thou  poete  Marcian, 
That  wrytest  us  that  ilke  wedding  murie 
Of  hir,  Philologye,  and  him,  Mercuric, 
And    of    the    songes    that    the    Muses 

songe.  1735 

To  smal  is  bothe  thy  penne,  and  eek  thy 

tonge, 
For  to  descryven  of  this  mariage. 
Whan  tendre  youthe  hath  wedded  stoup- 

ing  age, 
Ther  is  swich  mirthe  that  it  may  nat  be 

writen; 
Assayeth  it  your-self,  than  may  ye  witen 
If  that  I  lye  or  noon  in  this  matere.  1 74 1 
Maius,    that    sit   with    so    benigne    a 

chere, 
Ilir  to  biholde  it  semed  fayerye; 
Quene  Ester  loked  never  with  swich  an 

ye  1744 

On  Assuer,  so  meke  a  look  hath  she. 
I  may  yow  nat  devyse  al  hir  beautee; 
But   thus   muche  of  hir  beautee  telle  I 

may. 
That  she  was  lyk  the  brighte  morwe  of 

May, 
Fulfild  of  aiie  bcaiit'ee  a'"fl  plesaunce. 

This  lanuarie  is  ravisb^^ed  in  a  traunce 
At  every  time  he  loked  oi^  hir  face;   175 1 
But  in  his  herte  he  gan  hntO  manace. 
That  he  that  night  in  arme-s  wolde  hir 

streyne 
Harder  than  ever  Paris  d''cle  Eleyne. 
But    nathelees,    yet     h'-^clde     he     greet 

pitee,  1755 

That  thilke  night  offe^nden  hir  moste  he; 
And  thoughte, '  all'*s !  o  tendre  creature  ! 


Now  wolde  god  ye  mighte  wel  endure 
Al  my  corage,  it  is  so  sharp  and  kene; 
I  am  agast  ye  shul  it  nat  sustene.       1760 
But  god  forbede  that  I  dide  al  my  might ! 
Now  wolde  god  that  it  were  woxen  night, 
And  that  the  night  wolde  lasten  evermo. 
I  wolde  that  al  this  peple  were  ago.' 
And  finally,  he  doth  al  his  labour,     1765 
As  he  best  mighte  savinge  his  honour, 
To  haste  hem  fro  the  mete  in  subtil  wyse. 
The  tyme  cam  that  reson  was  to  ryse; 
And  after  that,  men  daunce  and  drinken 

faste. 
And   spyces   al   aboute   the    hous    they 

caste;  1770 

And  ful  of  loye  and  blisse  is  every  man; 
All  but  a  squyer,  highte  Damian, 
Which  carf  biforn  the  knight  ful  many  a 

day. 
He  was  so  ravisshed  on  his  lady  May, 
That   for  the   verray  peyne   he  was   ny 

wood;  1775 

Almost  he  swelte  and  swowned  ther  he 

stood. 
So  sore    hath  Venus  hurt  him  with  hir 

brond. 
As  that  she  bar  it  daunsinge  in  hir  hond. 
And  to  his  bed  he  wente  him  hastily; 
Na-more  of  him  as  at  this  tyme  speke  I. 
But  ther  I  lete  him  wepe  y-nough  and 

pleyne,  1781 

Til  fresshe  May  wol  rewen  on  his  peyne. 

O  perilous  fyr,  that    in   the   bedstraw 

bredeth !  Audor. 

O  famulier  foo,  that  his  servyce  bedeth  ! 
O  servant  traitour,  false  hoomly  hewe, 
Lyk    to   the    naddre   in   bosom   sly  un- 

trewe,  1786 

God  shilde  us  alle   from   your  aqueynt- 

aunce ! 
O  lanuarie,  dronken  in  plesaunce 
Of  mariage,  see  how  thy  Damian, 
Thyn  owene  squyer  and  thy  borne  man, 
Entendeth  for  to  do  thee  vileinye.     1791 
God  graunte  thee  thyn  hoomly  fo  tespye. 
For  in  this  world  nis  worse  pestilence 
Than  hoomly  foo  al  day  in  thy  presence. 
Parfourned    hath    the    Sonne    his    ark 

diurne,  '795 

No  lenger  may  the  body  of  him  soiurne 
On  thorisonte,  as  in  that  latitude. 
Night  with  his  mantel,  that  is  derk  and 

rude, 


i799-i'*^7i-] 


E.     TIIK   MARCIIANIKS   TALE. 


67s 


Gan  oversprede  the  hemisperie  aboute; 
For  which  departed  is  this  lusty  route 
Fro    lanuarie,    with     thank     on     every 

syde.  1 80 1 

Horn  to  hir  houses  lustily  they  ryde, 
Wher-as  they  doon  hir  thinges  as  hem 

leste, 
And  whan  they  sye  hir  tyme,  goon  to  reste. 
Sone  after  that,  this  hastif  lanuarie   1805 
Wolde  go  to  beiUle,  he  wolde  no  lenger 

tarie. 
lie  drinketh  ipocras,  clarree,  and  vernage 
Of  spyces  hote,  tencresen  his  corage; 
And  many  a  letuarie  hadde  he  ful  fyn, 
Swiche    as  the  cursed  monk   dan   Con- 

stantyn  1810 

Hath  writen  in  his  book  de  Coiiii ; 
To  eten  hem  alle,  he  nas  no-thing  eschu. 
And  to  his  privee  freendes  thus  seyde  he  : 
'  For  goddes  love,  as  sone  as  it  may  be, 
Lat  voyden  al  this  hous  in  curteys  wyse.' 
And  they  han  doon  right  as  he  wol  de- 

vyse  181 6 

Men  drinken,  and  the  travers  drawe  anon ; 
The  bryile  was  broght  a-bedde  as  stille 

as  stoon; 
And  whan  the  bed  was  with  the  preest 

y-blessed. 
Out  of  the  chambre  hath  every  wight  him 

dressed.  1820 

And  lanuarie  hath  faste  in  amies  take 
His  fresshe  May,  his  paradys,  his  make. 
He  lulleth  hir,  he  kisseth  hir  ful  ofte 
With  thikke  l)ristles  of  his  berd  unsofte, 
Lyk  to  the  skin  of  houndfish,  sharp  as 

l)rere,  1S25 

For  he  was  shave  al  newe  in  his  manere. 
He  ruljl)eth  hir  al)oute  hir  tendre  face. 
And  seyde  thus,  '  alias  !   I  moot  trespace 
To    yow,   my   spouse,   and    yow   gretly 

offende, 
Er   tyme    come    that    I    wil    doun    de- 

scende.  1830 

Rut  nathelees,  considereth  this,'  quod  he, 
'  Ther  nis  no  werkman,  what-so-ever  he 

be. 
That  may  bothe  werke  wel  and  hastily; 
This  wol  be  doon  at  leyser  parfitly.    1834 
It  is  no  fors  how  longe  that  we  pleye; 
In  trewe  wedlok  wedded  lie  we  twcye; 
Antl  blessed  be  the   yok    that  we    been 

inne, 
Foi  in  our  actes  we  movve  do  no  sinne. 


A  man  may  do  no  sinne  with  his  wyf, 
Ne    hurte    him-selven    with    his     owene 

knyf;  1840 

For   we   han   leve   to    pleye    us    by  the 

lawe.' 
Thus  lalioureth  til  that  the  daygan  dawe; 
And  than  he  taketh  a  sop  in  fyn  clarree, 
And  upright  in  his  bed  than  sitteth  he, 
And    after   that   he  sang  ful    loude  and 

clere,  1S45 

And  kiste  his  wyf,  and  made  waiitoun 

chere. 
He  was  al  coltish,  ful  of  ragerye, 
And  ful  of  largon  as  a  fiekked  pye. 
The     slakke     skin     aboute     his    nekke 

sliaketh, 
Whyl  that  he  sang;   so  chauntcth  he  and 

craketh.  1850 

But  god  wot  what  that  May  thoughte  in 

hir  herte, 
Whan  she  him  saugh  up  sittinge  in  his 

sherte. 
In  his  night-cappe,  and  with  his  nekke 

lene; 
She  preyseth   nat  his   pleying   worth    a 

bene. 
Than  seide    he  thus,    '  my   reste   wol   I 

take;  1855 

Now   day   is   come,    I    may    no    lenger 

wake.' 
And  doun  he  leyde  his  heed,  and  sleep 

til  pryme. 
And  afterward,  whan  that  he  saugh  his 

tyme. 
Up  ryseth  lanuarie;   liut  fresshe  May 
Holdeth  hir  chambre  un-to  the  fourthe 

day,  i860 

As  usage  is  of  wyves  for  the  beste. 
For   every   labour  som-tyme    moot    han 

reste, 
Or  elles  longe  may  he  nat  endure; 
This  is  to  seyn,  no  lyves  creature. 
Be    it    of    fish,    or    brid,    or    beest,    or 

man.  1S65 

Now    w'ol     I     speke     of   woful    Da- 

mian,  Auctor. 

That    languissheth   for  love,  as  ye   shul 

here; 
Therfore  I  speke  to  him  in  this  manere: 
I  seye,  '  O  sely  I  )amian,  alias  ! 
Answere    to    my    demaunde,    as   in    this 

cas,  1S70 

How  shallow  to  thy  lady  fresshe  May 


676 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1872-1951. 


Telle   thy  wo?       She   wole   alwey  seye 

•^  nay  " ; 
Eek   if    thou   speke,   she    wol    thy    wo 

biwreye; 
God  be  thyn  help,  I  can  no  bettre  seye.' 
This  syke  Damian  in  Venus  fyr      1875 
So  brenneth,  that  he  dyeth  for  desyr; 
For  which  he  putte  his  lyf  in  aventure 
No  lenger  mighte  he  in  this  wyse  endure; 
But  prively  a  penner  gan  he  borwe, 
And  in  a  lettre  wroot  he  al  his  sorwe,  1 880 
In  manere  of  a  compleynt  or  a  lay, 
Un-to  his  faire  fresshe  lady  May. 
And  in  a  purs  of  silk,  heng  on  his  sherte, 
He  hath  it  put,  and  leyde  it  at  his  herte. 
The  mone  that',  at  noon,  was,  thilke 

day  1885 

That  lanuarie  hath  wedded  fresshe  May, 
In  two  of  Taur,  was  in-to  Cancre  gliden; 
So   longe   hath    Maius   in   hir   chambre 

biden, 
As  custume  is  un-to  thise  nobles  alle. 
A  bryde  shal  nat  eten  in  the  halle,     1 890 
Til  dayes  foure  or  three  dayes  atte  leste 
Y-passed  been;   than  lat  hir  go  to  feste. 
The   fourthe  day  compleet   fro  noon  to 

noon, 
Whan  that  the  heighe  masse  was  y-doon, 
In  halle  sit  this  lanuarie,  and  May     1895 
As  fresh  as  is  the  brighte  someres  day. 
And  so  bifel,  how  that  this  gode  man 
Remembred  him  upon  this  Damian, 
And    seyde,   '  Seinte   Marie !    how   may 

this  be. 
That  Damian  entendeth  nat  to  me?  1900 
Is  he  ay  syk,  or  how  may  this  bityde? ' 
His   squyeres,  whiche  that   stoden   ther 

bisyde. 
Excused  him  by-cause  of  his  siknesse, 
Which  letted  him  to  doon  his  bisinesse; 
Noon    other    cause   mighte    make    him 

tarie.  1905 

'That  me  forthinketh,'  quod  this  lanu- 
arie, 
'  He  is  a  gentil  squyer,  by  my  trouthe ! 
If    that    he    deyde,    it    were    harm    and 

routhe; 
He  is  as  wys,  discreet,  and  as  secree 
As  any  man  I  woot  of  his  degree;      1910 
And  ther-to  manly  and  eek  servisable, 
And  for  to  been  a  thrifty  man  right  able. 
But  after  mete,  as  sone  as  ever  I  may, 
I  wol  my-self  visyte  him  and  eek  May, 


To  doon  him  al  the  confort  that  I  can.' 
And    for    that   word    him    blessed    every 

man,  1916 

That,  of  his  bountee  and  his  gentillesse. 
He  wolde  so  conforten  in  siknesse 
His  squyer,  for  it  was  a  gentil  dede. 
'  Dame,'  quod  this  lanuarie,  '  tak    good 

hede,  1920 

At-after    mete    ye,   with   your   wommen 

alle. 
Whan  ye   han  been  in  chambre  out  of 

this  halle, 
That  alle  ye  go  to  see  this  Damian; 
Doth  him  disport,  he  is  a  gentil  man; 
And  telleth  him  that  I  wol  him  visyte, 
Have  I  no-thing  but  rested  me  a  lyte; 
And  spede  yow  faste,  for  I  wole  abyde 
Til  that  ye  slepe  faste  by  my  syde.'     1928 
And  with  that  word  he  gan  to  him  to 

calle 
A  squyer,  that  was  marchal  of  his  halle. 
And  tolde  him  certeyn  thinges,  what  he 

wolde.  1931 

This  fresshe  May  hath  streight  hir  wey 

y-holde. 
With  alle  hir  wommen,  un-to  Damian. 
Doun  by  his  beddes  syde  sit  she  than, 
Confortinge  him  as  goodly  as  she  may. 
This   Damian,    whan    that  his   tyme  he 

say,  1936 

In   secree   wise   his   purs,  and    eek    his 

bille, 
In   which   that    he   y-writen   hadde   his 

wille. 
Hath    put    in-to    hir    hand,   with-outen 

more, 
Save  that    he  syketh  wonder  depe  and 

sore,  1940 

And  softely  to  hir  right  thus  seyde  he  : 
'  Mercy  !  and  that  ye  nat  discovere  me; 
For    I   am   deed,   if  that  this   thing   be 

kid.' 
This  purs  hath  she  inwith  hir  bosom  hid. 
And  wente  hir  wey;  ye  gete  namore  of 

me.  1945 

But  un-to  lanuarie  y-comen  is  she, 
That  on  his  beddes  syde  sit  ful  softe. 
He  taketh  hir,  and  kisseth  hir  ful  ofte, 
And  leyde  him  doun  to  slepe,  and  that 

anon. 
She  feyned  hir  as  that  she  moste  gon 
Ther-as   ye   woot  that  every  wight    mot 

nede.  195 1 


1952-2029.] 


E.     THE    MARCH  ANTES  TALE. 


677 


And  whan  she  of  this  bille    hath  taken 

hedc, 
She  rente  it  al  to  cloutes  atte  laste, 
And  in  the  privee  softcly  it  caste. 

Who   studieth  now    but   faire    fresshe 
May?  1955 

Adoun  by  olde  lanuarie  she  lay, 
That  sleep,  til  that  the  coughe  hath  him 

awaked ; 
Anon    he    preyde    hir    strepen     hir    al 

naked; 
He  wolde  of  hir,  he  seyde,  han  som  ple- 

saunce. 
And  seyde,  hir  clothes  dide  him  encom- 
braunce,  i960 

And  she  ol^eyeth,  be  hir  lief  or  looth. 
But  lest  that  precious  folk  be  with  me 

wrooth. 
How  that  he  wroghte,  I  dar  nat  to  yow 

telle; 
Or  whether  hir  thoughte  it  paradys  or 

helle; 
But  here  I  lete  hem  werken  in  hir  wyse 
Til  evensong  rong,  and  that  they  moste 
aryse.  1966 

Were  it  by  destinee  or  aventure, 
Were  it  by  influence  or  by  nature, 
Or  constellacion,  that  in  swich  estat 
The  hevene  stood,  that  tyme  fortunat 
Was  for  to  putte  a  bille  of  Venus  werkes 
(For  alle  thing  hath  tyme,  as  seyn  thise 
clerkes)  1972 

To  any  womnian,  for  to  gete  hir  love, 
I  can  nat  seye;   but  grete  god  above, 
That  knoweth  that  non  act  is  causelees, 
He  deme  of  al,  for  I  wol  holde  my  pees. 
But  sooth  is  this,  how  that  this  fresshe 

May 
Hath  take  swich  impression  that  day, 
For  pitee  of  this  syke  Damian,  1979 

That  from  hir  herte  she  ne  dryve  can 
The  remembraunce  for  to  doon  him  ese. 
'Certeyn,'  thoghte  she,  'whom  that  this 

thing  displese, 
I  rekke  noght,  for  here  I  him  assure. 
To  love  him  best  of  any  creature. 
Though    he    na-more    hadde    than    his 
sherte.'  1985 

Lo,  pitee  renneth  sone  in  gentil  herte. 
Heer  may  ye  se  how  excellent  fran- 
chyse 
In  wommen   is,  whan  they  hem  narwe 
avyse. 


Som  tyrant  is,  as  ther  be  many  oon, 
That  hath  an  herte  as  hard  as  any  stoon. 
Which  wulde  han  lete  him  sterven  in  the 

place  1 99 1 

Wei  rather  than  han  graunted  liim  hir 

grace; 
And  hem  reioysen  in  hir  cruel  pryde, 
And  rekke  nat  to  been  an  homicyde. 

This  gentil  May,  fulfilled  of  pitee,  1995 
Right  of  hir  hande  a  leltre  made  slie. 
In  which  she  graunteth   him  hir  verray 

grace; 
Ther  lakketh  noght  but   only  day  and 

place, 
Wher    that   she   mighte    un-to    his    lust 

suffyse : 
For  it  shal  be  right  as  he  wol  devyse. 
And  whan  she  saugh  hir  time,  up-on  a 

day,  200 1 

To  visite  this  Damian  goth  May, 
And  sotilly  this  lettre  doun  she  threste 
Under  his  pilwe,  rede  it  if  him  leste. 
She  taketh  him  by  the  hand,  and  harde 

him  twiste  2005 

So  secrely,  that  no  wight  of  it  wiste. 
And  bad  him  been  al  hool,  and  forth  she 

wente 
To  lanuarie,  whan  that  he  for  hir  sente. 
Up  ryseth  Damian  the  nexte  morwe, 
Al    passed   was    his    siknesse    and    his 

sorwe.  2010 

He  kembeth  him,  he  proyneth  him  and 

pyketh, 
He    dooth    al    that    his   lady   lust   and 

lyketh; 
And  eek  to  lanuarie  he  gooth  as  lowe 
As  ever  dide  a  dogge  for  the  bowe. 
He  is  so  plesant  un-to  every  man,      2015 
(For  craft  is  al,  who-so  that  do  it  can) 
That  every  wight  is  fayn  to  speke  him 

good ; 
And  fully  in  his  lady  grace  he  stood. 
Thus  lete  I  Damian  aboute  his  nede, 
And  in  my  tale  forth  I  wol  procede.  2020 

Somme  clerkes  holden  that  felicitee 
Slant  in  delyt,  and  therefor  certeyn  he. 
This  noble  lanuarie,  witli-al  his  might. 
In  honest  wyse,  as  longeth  lo  a  knight, 
Shoop  him  to  live  ful  deliciously.       2025 
His  housinge,  his  array,  as  honestly 
To  his  degree  was  maked  as  a  kinges. 
Amonges  othere  of  his  honest  thinges. 
He  made  a  gaidin,  walled  al  with  stoon; 


678 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2030-2 1 1 2. 


So  fair  a  gardin  wool  I  nowher  noon.  2030 
For  out  of  doute,  I  verraily  suppose, 
That  he  that  wroot  the  Romance  of  the 

Rose 
Ne  coude  of  it  the  beautee  wel  devyse; 
Ne  Priapus  ne  niighte  nat  suffyse, 
Though    he    be   god  of  gardins,  for   to 

telle  2035 

The  beautee  of  the  gardin  and  the  vvelle, 
That  stood  under  a  laurer  alwey  grene. 
Ful  ofte  tyme  he,  Pluto,  and  his  quene,/ 
Proserpina,  and  al  hir  fayerye  / 

Disporten  hem  and  maken  melodye  2040 
Aboute  that  welle,  and  daunced,  as  men 

tolde. 
This  noble  knight,  this  lanuarie  the 

olde, 
Swich  deintee  hath  in  it  to  walke   and 

pleye, 
That  he  wol  no  wight  suffren  here  the 

keye 
Save  he  him-self;   for  of  the  smale  wiket 
He  bar  alwey  of  silver  a  smal  cliket,  2046 
With  which,  whan  that  him  leste,  he  it 

unshette. 
And  whan  he  wolde  paye  his  wyf  hir  dette 
In  somer  seson,  thider  wolde  he  go. 
And  May  his  wyf,  and  no  wight  but  they 

two;  2050 

And  thinges  whiche  that  were  nat  doon 

a-bedde. 
He  in  the  gardin   parfourned  hem  and 

spedde. 
And  in  this  wyse,  many  a  mery  day. 
Lived  this  lanuarie  and  fresshe  May. 
But  worldly  loye  may  nat  alwey  dure  2055 
To  lanuarie,  ne  to  no  creature. 

O   sodeyn    hap,    o    thou    fortune    in- 

staljle,  A  uctor. 

Lyk  to  the  scorpioun  so  deceivable. 
That  flaterest  with  thyn  heed  when  thou 

wolt  stinge; 
Thy  tayl  is  deeth,  thurgh  thyn  envenim- 

inge.  2060 

O  brotil  loye  !  o  swete  venim  queynte  ! 
O  monstre,  that  so  subtilly  canst  peynte 
Thy  yiftes,  under  hewe  of  stedfastnesse. 
That  thou  deceyvest  bothe  more  and  lesse  ! 
Why  hastow  lanuarie  thus  deceyved,  2065 
That  haddest  him  for  thy  ful    frend  re- 

ceyved  ? 
And  now  thou  hast  biraft  hiarbothe  hise 

yen, 


For  sorwe  of  which  desyreth  he  to  dyen. 
Alias  !  this  noble  lanuarie  free, 
Amidde  his  lust  and  his  prosperitee,  2070 
Is  woxen  blind,  and  that  al  sodeynly. 
He  wepeth  and  he  wayleth  pitously; 
And  ther-with-al  the  fyr  of  lalousye, 
Lest  that  his  wyf  sholde  falle   in   som 

folye. 
So  brente  his  herte,  that  he  wolde  fayn 
That  som  man   bothe  him  and  hir  had 

slayn.  2076 

For  neither  after  his  deeth,  nor  in  his  lyf, 
Ne  wolde  he  that  she  were  love  ne  wyf, 
But  ever  live  as  widwe  in  clothes  blake. 
Soul   as   the   turtle    that    lost    hath    hir 

make.  2080 

But  atte  laste,  after  a  monthe  or  tweye, 
His  sorwe  gan  aswage,  sooth  to  seye; 
For  whan  he  wiste  it  may  noon  other  be, 
He  paciently  took  his  adversitee; 
Save,   out   of    doute,   he   may   nat    for- 

goon  2085 

That  he  nas  lalous  evermore  in  oon; 
Which  lalousye  it  was  so  outrageous, 
That  neither  in  halle,  nin  noon  other  hous, 
Ne  in  noon  other  place,  never-the-mo. 
He  nolde  suffre  hir  for  to  ryde  or  go,  2090 
But-if  that  he  had  hand  on  hir  alway; 
For  which  ful  ofte  wepeth  fresshe  May, 
That  loveth  Damian  so  benignely. 
That  she  mot  outher  dyen  sodeynly. 
Or  elles  she  mot  han  him  as  hir  leste;  2095 
She  wayteth  whan  hir  herte  wolde  breste. 

Up-on  that  other  syde  Damian 
Bicomen  is  the  sorwefuUeste  man 
That  ever  was;   for  neither  night  ne  day 
Ne  mighte  he  speke  a  word  to  fresshe 

May,  2100 

As  to  his  purpos,  of  no  swich  matere, 
But-if  that  lanuarie  moste  it  here, 
That  hadde  an  hand  up-on  hir  evermo. 
But  nathelees,  by  wryting  to  and  fro 
And    privee   signes,  wiste   he  what   she 

mente;  2105 

And  she  knew  eek  the  fyn  of  his  entente. 

O    lanuarie,    what     mighte     it    thee 

availle,  Auctor. 

Thou  mightest  see  as  fer  as  shippes  saille  ? 
For  also  good  is  blind  deceyved  be, 
As  be  deceyved  whan  a  man  may  se.  21 10 
Lo,  Argus,  which  that  hadde  an  hondred 

yen. 
For  al  that  ever  he  coude  poure  or  pryen. 


2II3-2I93] 


E.    THE   MARCIIANTES  TALE. 


679 


Yet  was  he  blent;   and,  god  wot,  so  ben 

nio, 
That  wcnen  wisly  that  it  be  nat  so. 
Passe  over  is  an  ese,  I  sey  na-niore.  21 15 
'I'his  fiesshe  May,  that  I  spak  of  so  yore. 
In  warme  wex  hath  eniprcnted  the  cliket, 
That  lanuarie  bar  of  the  sniale  wiket. 
By  which  in-to  his  gardiii  ofte  he  wente. 
And  Daniian,  that  knew  al  hir  entente. 
The  cliket  countrefetetl  prively;         2121 
Ther  nis  na-more  to  seye,  hut  hastily 
Som  wonder  by  this  cliket  shal  bityde, 
Which  ye  shul  heren,  if  ye  wole  abyde. 
O  noble  Ovyde,  ful  sooth  seystou,  god 

woot !  Auctor. 

What  sleighte  is  it,  thogh  it  be  long  and 

hoot,  2126 

That  he  nil  finde  it  out  in  som  manere? 
By  Piranius  and  Tesbee  may  men  lere; 
Thogh  they  were  kept  ful  longe  streite 

overal. 
They  been  accorded,  rouninge  thurgh  a 

wal,  2130 

Ther  no  wight   coude   ban   founde   out 

swich  a  sleighte. 

But  now  to  purpos;  er  that  dayes  eighte 

Were  passed,  er  the  monthe  of  luil,  bifil 

That  lanuarie  hath  caught  so  greet  a  wil, 

Thurgh  egging  of  his  wyf,  him  for  to 

pleye  2135 

In  his  gardin,  and  no  wight  but   they 

tweye, 
That  in  a  morwe  un-to  this  May  seith  he : 
'  Rys  up,  my  wyf,  my  love,  my  lady  free; 
The  turtles  vois  is  herd,  my  douve  swete; 
The  winter  is  goon,  with  alle  his  reynes 

wete  ;  2140 

Com  forth  now,  with  thyn  eyen  columbyn  ! 
How  fairer  been  thy  brestes  than  is  wyn  ! 
The  gardin  is  enclosed  al  aboute; 
Com  forth,  my  whyte  spouse;  out  ofdoute, 
Thou  hast  me  wounded  in  myn  herte,  o 

wyf!  2145 

No  spot  of  thee  ne  knew  I  al  my  lyf. 
Com  forth,  and  lat  us  taken  our  disport; 
I  chees  thee  for  my  wyf  and  my  confort.' 

Swiche  olde  lewed  wordes  used  he; 
On  Damian  a  signe  made  she,  2150 

That  he  sholde  go  biforen  with  his  cliket : 
This  Damian  thanne  hath    opened   the 

wiket, 
And  in  he  stirte,  and  that  in  swich  man- 
ere, 


That    no    wight    mighte   it    see    neither 

y-here; 
And  slille  he  sit  under  a  bush  anoon.  2155 

This  lanuarie,  as  blind  as  is  a  stoon, 
With  iMaius  in  his  hand,  and  no  wight  mo, 
In-to  his  fresshe  gardin  is  ago. 
And  clapte  to  the  wiket  sotleynly. 

*  Now,  wyf,'  quod  he, '  heer  nis  but  thou 

and  I,  2160 

That  art  the  creature  that  I  best  love. 
Eor,  by  that  lord  that  sit  in  heven  above. 
Lever  ich  hadde  dyen  on  a  knyf, 
Than  thee  offende,  trewe  dere  wyf! 
For    goddes    sake,   thenk    how   I    thee 

chees,  2165 

Noght  for  no  coveityse,  doutelees. 
But  only  for  the  love  I  had  to  thee. 
And  though  that  I  be  old,  and  may  nat 

see, 
Beth  to  me  trewe,  and  I  shal  telle  yow 

why. 
Three    thinges,    certes,    shul    ye   winne 

ther-by;  2170 

First,  love  of  Crist,  and  to  your-self  hon- 
our. 
And  al  myn  heritage,  toun  and  tour; 
I  yeve  it  yow,  maketh  chartres  as  yow 

leste ; 
This   shal    be    doon  to-morwe  er  sonne 

reste.  2174 

So  wisly  god  my  soule  bringe  in  blisse, 
I  prey  yow  first,  in  covenant  ye  me  kisse. 
And    thogh    that  I    be   lalous,  wyte  me 

noght. 
Ye  been  so  depe  enprented  in  my  thoght, 
That,  whan  that  I  considere  your  beautee, 
And    ther-with-al    the    unlykly   elde  of 

me,  2180 

I  may  nat,  certes,  thogh  I  sholde  dye, 
Forbere  to  been  out  of  your  companye 
For  verray  love;  this  is  with-outen  doute. 
Now  kis  me,  wyf,  and  lat  us  rome  aboute.' 
This    fresshe    May,    whan    she    thise 

wordes  herde,  2185 

Benignely  to  lanuarie  answerde. 
But  first  and  forward  she  bigan  to  wepe, 
'  I  have,'  quod  she,  '  a  soule  for  to  kepe 
As  wel  as  ye,  and  also  myn  honour,  2189 
And  of  my  wyfhod  thilke  tendre  flour. 
Which  that  I  have  assured  in  your  hond. 
Whan   that  the  preest  to  yow  my  body 

bond; 
Wherfore  I  wole  answere  in  this  manere 


68o 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2194-2278. 


By  the  leve  of  yow,  my  lord  so  dere :  2194 
1  prey  to  god,  that  never  dawe  the  day 
That  I  ne  starve,  as  foule  as  womman 

may. 
If  ever  1  do  un-to  my  kin  that  shame. 
Or  elles  I  empeyre  so  my  name, 
That  I  be  fals;    and  if  I  do  that  lakke, 
Do  strepe  me  and  put  me  in  a  sakke,  2200 
And  in  the  nexte  river  do  me  drenche. 
I  am  a  gentil  womman  and  no  vvenche. 
Why  speke  ye  thus  ?  but  men  ben  ever 

untrewe. 
And   wommen  have  repreve  of  yow  ay 

newe. 
Ye  han  non  other  contenance,  I  leve,  2205 
But  speke  to  us  of  untrust  and  repreve.' 
And   with   that  word  she  saugh  wher 

Damian 
Sat  in  the  bush,  and  coughen  she  bigan. 
And  with  her  finger  signes  made  she,  2209 
That  Damian  sholde  cHmlje  up-on  a  tree, 
That  charged  was  with  fruit,  and  up  he 

wente  ; 
For  verraily  he  knew  al  hir  entente. 
And  every  signe  that  she  coude  make 
Wei  bet  than  lanuarie,  hir  owene  make 
For  in  a  lettre  she  had  told  him  al    2215 
Of  this  matere,  how  he  werchen  shal. 
And  thus  I  lete  him  sitte  up-on  the  pyrie. 
And  lanuarie  and  May  rominge  myrie. 
Bright  was  the  day,  and  blew  the  fir- 
mament, 2219 
Phebus  of  goldhisstremesdoun  hath  sent, 
To  gladen  every  flour  with  his  warmnesse. 
He  was  that  tyme  in  Geminis,  as  I  gesse, 
But  litel  fro  his  declinacioun 
Of  Cancer,  lovis  exaltacioun.              2224 
And  so  bifel,  that  brighte  morwe-tyde. 
That  in  that  gardin,  in  the  ferther  syde, 
Pluto,  that  is  the  king  of  fayerye. 
And  many  a  lady  in  his  companye, 
Folwinge  his  wyf,  the  quene  Proserpyne, 
Ech  after  other,  right  as  any  lyne  —  2230 
Whil  that  she  gadered  floures  in  the  mede. 
In  Claudian  ye  may  the  story  rede. 
How  in  his  grisly  carte  he  hir  fette  :  — 
This  king  of  fairye  thanne  adoun  him  sette 
Up-on  a  bench  of  turves,  fresh  and  grene. 
And   right   anon  thus   seyde    he   to  his 

quene.  2236 

'  My  wyf,'  quod  he,  '  ther  may  no  wight 

sey  nay; 
Thexperience  so  preveth  every  day 


The  treson  whiche  that  wommen  doon  to 

man. 
Ten   hondred    thousand  [stories]   telle  I 

can  2240 

Notable  of  your  untrouthe  and  brotilnesse. 
O  Salomon,  wys,  richest  of  richesse, 
P'ulfild  of  sapience  and  of  worldly  glorie, 
Ful  worthy  been  thy  wordes  to  memorie 
To    every    wight    that    wit    and    reson 

can.  2245 

Thus  preiseth  he  yet  the  bountee  of  man : 
"  Amonges  a  thousand  men  yet   fond  I 

oon. 
But  of  wommen  alle  fond  I  noon." 

Thus  seith  the  king  that  knoweth  your 

wikkednesse; 
And  \e.'i,\)&filius  Syrak,  as  I  gesse,    2250 
Ne  speketh  of  yow  but  selde  reverence. 
A  wilde  fyr  and  corrupt  pestilence 
So  falle  up-on  your  bodies  yet  to-night ! 
Ne  see  ye  nat  this  honurable  knight. 
By-cause,  alias !    that   he   is   blind   and 

old,  2255 

His  owene  man  shal  mak&-him  cokewold; 
Lo  heer  he  sit,  the  lechour,  in  the  tree. 
Now  wol  I  graunten,  of  my  magestee, 
Un-to  this  olde  blinde  worthy  knight 
That  he  shal  have  ayeyn  his  eyen  sight. 
Whan  that  his  wyf  wold  doon  him  vil- 

einye;  2261 

Than  shal  he  knowen  al  hir  harlotrye 
Both  in  repreve  of  hir  and  othere  mo.' 

'  Ye  shal,'  quod  Proserpyne, '  wol  ye  so ; 
Now,     by    my    modres     sires    soule     I 

swere,  2265 

That  I  shal  yeven  hir  suffisant  answere, 
And  alle  wommen  after,  for  hir  sake; 
That,  though  they  be  in  any  gilt  y-take, 
With  face  bold  they  shuUe  hem-self  ex- 
cuse. 
And  here  hem  doun  that  wolden  hem  ac- 
cuse. 2270 
For  lakke  of  answer,  noon  of  hem  shal 

dyen. 
Al  hadde  man  seyn  a  thing  with  bothe 

his  yen, 
Yit  shul  we  wommen  visage  it  hardily. 
And  wepe,  and  swere,  and  chyde  subtilly. 
So  that  ye  men  shul   been  as  lewed  as 

gees.  2275 

What  rekketh  me  of  your  auctoritees? 

I  woot  wel  that  this  lew,  this  Salomon, 
Fond  of  us  wommen  foles  many  oon. 


2279-2349-] 


E.    THE   MARCHANTES   TALE. 


68i 


But   thuugh    that  he  ne  fond    no   good 

wuminan, 
Vet  hath  ther  founde  many  another  man 
Wununen  ful  trewe,  ful  gode,  and  vertu- 

ous.  2281 

Witnesse  on  hem  that  dwelle  in  Cristes 

hous, 
With    raartirdom   they  preved   hir   con- 
stance. 
The  Roniayn  gestes  maken  remembrance 
Of  many  a  verray  trewe  wyf  also.       2285 
But  sire,  ne  be  nat  wrooth,  al-be-it  so, 
Though  that  he  seyde  he  fond  no  good 

womman, 
I  prey  yow  take  the  sentence  of  the  man; 
He  mentc  thus,  that  in  sovereyn  bontee 
Nis   noon    but    god,   that   sit   in   Trini- 

tee.  2290 

Ey  !  for  verray  god,  that  nis  but  oon, 
What  make  ye  so  muche  of  Salomon? 
What  though  he  made  a  temple,  goddes 

hous? 
What  though  he  were  riche  and  glorious? 
So  made  he  eek  a  temple  of  false  god- 

dis,  2295 

How  mighte  he  do  a  thing  that  more  for- 

bode  is  ? 
Pardee,  as  faire  as  ye  his  name  emplastre, 
He  was  a  lechour  and  an  ydolastre; 
And  in  his  elde  he  verray  god  forsook. 
And  if  that  god  ne  hadde,  as  seith  the 

book,  2300 

Y-spared    him   for   his   fadres    sake,   he 

sholde 
Have  lost  his  regne  rather  than  he  wolde. 
I  sette  noght  of  al  the  vileinye. 
That  ye  of  wommen  wryte,  a  boterflye. 
I  am  a  womman,  nedes  moot  I  speke. 
Or  elles  swelle  til  myn  herte  breke.  2306 
For  sithen  he  seyde  that  we  ben  langle- 

resses. 
As  ever  hool  I  mote  brouke  my  tresses, 
I  shal  nat  spare,  for  no  curteisye, 
To  speke  him  harm   that  wolde    us  vil- 
einye.' 2310 
'  Dame,'    quod    this    Pluto,    '  be     no 

lenger  wrooth; 
I  yeve  it  up  ;   but  sith  I  swoor  myn  ooth 
That  I  wolde   graunten  him    his   sighte 

ageyn. 
My   word    shal    stonde,    I    warne    yow, 

ccrteyn. 
I  am  a  king,  it  sit  me  noght  to  lye.'  2315 


'  And    I,'    quod    she,    '  a    queene    of 

faycryc. 
Hir   answere   shal   she    have,    I    under- 
take; 
Lat  us  na-more  wordes  heer-of  make. 
For   sothe,  I  wol   no   lenger   yow    con- 

trarie.'  2319 

Now  lat  us  turne  agayn  to  lanuarie, 
That  in  the  gardin  with  his  faire  May 
Singelh,  ful  merier  than  the  pajieiay, 
'  Yow  love  I  best,   aiul   shal,   and  other 

noon.' 
So  longe  al)oute  the  aleyes  is  he  goon. 
Til  he  was  come  agaynes  thilke  pyrie, 
Wher-as  this  Damian  sitteth  ful  myrie 
An  heigh,  among  the  fresshe  leves  grene. 
This  fresshe  May,  that  is  so  bright  and 

shene, 
Gan   for   to  syke,  and  seyde,  '  alias,  my 

syde ! 
Now  sir,'  quod  she,  '  for  aught  that  may 

bityde,  2330 

I  moste  han  of  the  peres  that  I  see. 
Or  I  mot  dye,  so  sore  longeth  me 
To  eten  of  the  smale  peres  grene. 
Help,    for    hir    love    that    is    of    hevene 

quene !  2334 

I  telle  yow  wel,  a  womman  in  my  plyt 
May  han  to  fruit  so  greet  an  api:>etyt. 
That  she  may  dyen,  but  she  of  it  have.' 
'  Alias  I  '     quod    he,    '  that    I    ne    had 

heer  a  knave 
That  coude  climbe;   alias!  alias!'  quod 

he, 
'That    I   am  blind.'     'Ye,  sir,  no  fors,' 

quod  she :  2340 

'  But  wolde  ye  vouche-sauf,  for  goddes 

sake. 
The    pyrie    inwith    your    armes   for    to 

take, 
(For  wel  I  woot  that  ye  mistruste  me) 
Thanne   sholde    I    climbe   wel    y-nogh,' 

quod  she, 
'  So   I  my  foot  mighte  sette  upon   your 

bak.'  2345 

'  Certes,'  quod  he,  '  ther-on  shal  be  no 

lak, 
Mighte    I    yow   helpcn  with    myn  hcrte 

blood.' 
He  stoupcth  doun,  and  on  his  bak  she 

stood, 
And    caughte    her   by    a    twiste,  and  up 

she  gooth. 


682 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[2350-2418. 


Ladies,    I    prey   yow    that    ye    be    nat 

wrooth  ;  2350 

I  can  nat  g)ose,  I  am  a  rude  man. 
And  sodeynly  anon  this  Damian 
Can   pullen    up    the    smok,   and    in   he 

throng. 
And  whan  that  Pluto  saugh  this  grete 

wrong, 
To  lanuarie  he  gaf  agayn  his  sighte,  2355 
And   made  him  see,  as  wel  as  ever  he 

mighte. 
And    whan   that   he   hadde   caught    his 

sighte  agayn, 
Ne  was  ther  never  man  of  thing  so  fayn. 
But  on  his  wyf  his  thoght  was  evermo; 
Up  to  the  tree  he  caste  his  eyen  two, 
And   saugh   that   Damian   his  wyf  had 

dressed  2361 

In   swich   manere,  it   may  nat   ben   ex- 
pressed 
But  if  I  wolde  speke  uncurteisly : 
And  up  he  yaf  a  roring  and  a  cry 
As  doth  the  moder  whan  the  child  shal 

dye :  2365 

'  Out !  help  !  alias !  harrow ! '  he  gan  to 

crye, 
'  O  stronge  lady  store,  what  dostow?  ' 
And  she  answerde,  '  sir,    what  eyleth 

yow? 
Have     pacience,    and     reson     in     your 

minde, 
I  have  yow  holpe  on  bothe  your  eyen 

blinde.  2370 

Up  peril  of  my  soule,  I  shal  nat  lyen. 
As  me  was  taught,  to  hele  with  your  yen. 
Was  no-thing  bet  to  make  yow  to  see 
Than  strugle  with  a  man  up-on  a  tree. 
God  woot,  I  dide  it  in  ful  good  entente.' 
'  Strugle  ! '   quod  he,  '  ye,  algate  in  it 

wente !  2376 

God  yeve   yow  bothe  on  shames  deeth 

to  dyen ! 
He  swyved  thee,  I  saugh  it  with  myne  yen. 
And  elles  be  I  hanged  by  the  hals !  ' 
'Thanne  is,'  quod  she,  '  my  medicyne 

al  fals ;  2380 

For  certeinly,  if  that  ye  mighte  see, 

Ye  wolde  nat  seyn  thise  wordes  un-to  me; 

Ye  han  som  glimsing  and  no  parfit  sighte.' 

'  I  see,'  quod   he,   '  as  wel   as   ever  I 

mighte. 

Here  is  ended  the  Marc 


Thonked    be    god !    with    bothe    myne 

eyen  two,  2385 

And    by  my    trouthe,    me   thoughte    he 

dide  thee  so.' 
'  Ye  maze,  maze,  gode  sire,'  quod  she, 
'  This  thank  have  I  for  I  have  maad  yow 

see; 
Alias !  '  quod  she,  '  that  ever   I  was   so 

kinde  ! ' 
'  Now,  dame,'  quod  he,  '  lat  al  passe 

out  of  minde.  2390 

Com  doun,  my  lief,  and  if  I   have  mis- 

sayd, 
God  help  me  so,  as  I  am  yvel  apayd. 
But,    by   my  fader   soule,  I  wende    han 

seyn. 
How   that    this    Damian    had    by   thee 

leyn. 
And  that  thy  smok  had  leyn  up-on  his 

brest.'  2395 

'  Ye,  sire,'  quod  she,  '  ye  may  wene  as 

yow  lest; 
But,  sire,  a  man  that  waketh  out  of  his 

sleep. 
He  may  nat  sodeynly  wel  taken  keep 
Up-on  a  thing,  ne  seen  it  parfitly. 
Til  that  he  be  adawed  verraily;  2400 

Right  so  a  man,  that  longe  hath   blind 

y-be, 
Ne  may  nat  sodeynly  so  wel  y-see. 
First   whan    his    sighte    is   newe    come 

ageyn. 
As  he  that  hath  a  day  or  two  y-seyn.  2404 
Til  that  your  sighte  y-satled  be  a  whyle, 
Ther  may  ful  many  a  sighte  yow  bigyle. 
Beth  war,    I  prey  yow;   for,  by  hevene 

king, 
Ful  many  a  man  weneth  to  seen  a  thing. 
And  it  is  al  another  than  it  semeth. 
He  that  misconceyveth,  he  misdemeth.' 
And  with  that  word  she  leep  doun  fro 

the  tree.  241 1 

This  lanuarie,  who  is  glad  but  he? 
He  kisseth  hir,  and  clippeth  hir  ful  ofte. 
And  on    hir  wombe  he  stroketh  hir  ful 

softe,  2414 

And  to  his  palays  hoom  he  hath  hir  lad. 
Now,  gode  men,  I  pray  yow  to  be  glad. 
Thus  endeth  heer  my  tale  of  lanuarie; 
God    blesse    us   and   his    moder    Seinte 

Marie! 
hantes  Tale  of  lanuarie. 


2419-2440.    I-35-] 


r.     THE   SOUIERES  TALE. 


683 


EPILOGUE  TO   THE   MARCHANTES  TALE. 


Ey! 

tlu 


goddcs  mercy  ! '  seyde  our  Iloste 


'  Now  swich  a  wyf  I  pray  god  kepe  me 
fru !  2420 

Lo,  whiche  sleightes  and  suhtilitees 
In  wommen  been  !  for  ay  as  bisy  as  bees 
Ken  they,  us  sely  men  for  to  deceyve, 
And  from  a  sothe  ever  wol  they  weyve; 
By   this    Marchauntes  Tale    it    preveth 
weel.  2425 

But  doutelees,  as  trewe  as  any  steel 
I  have  a  wyf,  though  that  she  povre  be; 
But  of  hir  tonge  a  labbing  shrewe  is  she, 
And  yet  she  hath  an  heap  of  vyces  moj 


Ther-of  no  fors,  lat  alle  swiche  tliiiiges 
go.  ...     2-^30 

But,  wite  ye  what?  in  conseil  be  it  seyd. 
Me  reweth  sore  I  am  un-to  hir  teytl. 
P'or,  and  I  sholde  rekenen  every  vyce 
Which  that  she  hath,   y-wis,  1   were  to 
nyce,  2434 

And  cause  why;   it  sholde  reported  be 
And  told  to  hir  of  somme  of  this  meynec; 
Of  whom,  it  nedeth  nat  for  to  declare. 
Sin  wommen  connen  outen  swich  chaf- 

fare; 
And  eek  my  wit  suflfyseth  nat  ther-to 
To  tellen  al;  wherfor  my  tale  is  do.'  2440 


GROUP   F. 


THE   SQUIERES   TALE. 


[The  Squire's  Prologue.] 

'  Squier,  com  neer,  if  it  your  wille  be. 
And  sey  somwhat  of  love;    for,  certes,  ye 
Connen  ther-on  as  muche  as  any  man.' 
'  Nay,  sir,'  quod  he,  '  but  I  wol  seye  as  I 

can 
With  hertly  wille;   for  I  wol  nat  rebelle  5 
Agayn  your  lust ;    a  tale  wol  I  telle. 
Have  me  excused  if  I  speke  amis. 
My  wil  is  good;   and  lo,  my  tale  is  this. 

Here  biginneth  the  Squieres  Tale. 

At  Sarray,  in  the  land  of  Tartarye, 
Ther    dwelte     a     king,     that    werreyed 

Russye,  10 

Thurgh  which  ther  deyde  many  a  doughty 

man. 
This  noble  king  was  cleped  Cambinskan, 
Which  in  his  tyme  was  of  so  greet  renoun 
That  ther  nas  no-wher  in  no  regioun 
So  excellent  a  lord  in  alle  thing;  15 

Him    lakked    noght    that   longeth   to   a 

king. 


As  of  the  secte  of  which  that  he  was 

born 
He  kepte  his  lay,  to  which  that  he  was 

sworn ; 
And    ther-to   he   was    hardy,    wys,    and 

riche. 
And  pietous  and  lust,  alwey  y-liche.     20 
Sooth  of  his  word,  benigne  and  honur- 

able, 
Of  his  corage  as  any  centre  stable; 
Yong,  fresh,  and  strong,  in  amies  desir- 
ous 
As  any  bacheler  of  al  his  hous. 
A  fair  persone  he  was  and  fortunat,       25 
And  kepte  alwey  so  wel  royal  estat, 
That   ther   was    nowher   swich    another 

man. 
This  noble  king,  this  Tartre  Cambinskan 
Hadde  two  sones  on  Elpheta  his  wyf, 
Of  whiche  the  eldcste  highte  Algarsyf,  30 
That  other  sone  was  cleped  Cambalo. 
A  doghter  hadde  this  worthy  king  also. 
That  yongest  was,  and  highte  Canacee. 
But  for  to  telle  yow  al  hir  beautee,        34 
It  lyth  nat  in  my  tonge,  nin  my  conning; 


684 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[36-117- 


I  rlar  nat  undertake  so  heigh  a  thing. 
Myn  English  eek  is  insufficient; 
It  moste  been  a  rethor  excellent, 
That  coude  his  colours  longing  for  that 

art, 
If  he  sholde  hir  discryven  every  part.  40 
I  am  non  swich,  I  moot  speke  as  I  can. 
And  so    bifel    that,   whan    this  Cam- 

binskan 
Hath  twenty  winter  born  his  diademe, 
As  he  was  wont  fro  yeer  to  yeer,  I  deme, 
He  leet  the  feste  of  his  nativitee  45 

Don  cryen  thurghout  Sarray  his  citee, 
The  last  Idus  of  March,  after  the  yeer. 
Phebus  the  sonne  ful  loly  was  and  cleer; 
For  he  was  neigh  his  exaltacioun 
In  Martes  face,  and  in  his  mansioun      50 
In  aries,  the  colerik  hote  signe. 
Ful  lusty  was  the  weder  and  benigne, 
For  whiche  the  foules,  agayn  the  sonne 

shene. 
What  for  the  seson  and  the  yonge  grene, 
Ful  loude  songen  hir  aflfecciouns;  55 

Him  semed  han  geten  hem  protecciouns 
Agayn  the    swerd   of   winter  kene   and 

cold. 
This  Cambinskan,  of  which  I  have  yow 

told. 
In  royal  vestiment  sit  on  his  deys. 
With  diademe,  ful  heighe  in  his  paleys,  60 
And  halt  his  feste,  so  solempne  and  so 

riche 
That  in  this  world  ne  was  ther  noon  it 

liche. 
Of  which  if  I  shal  tellen  al  tharray. 
Than  wolde  it  occupye  a  someres  day; 
And  eek  it  nedeth  nat  for  to  devyse      6 
At  every  cours  the  ordrc  of  hir  servyse^^ jt- 
I  wol  nat  tellen  of  hir  strange  sewes,  jf'iP''^ 
Ne  of  hir  swannes,  ne  of  hir  heronsewes. 
Eek  in  that  lond,  as  tellen  knightes  olde, 
Ther  is    som    mete    that    is   ful    deyntee 

holde,  70 

That  in  this  lond  men  recche  of  it  but 

smal; 
Ther  nis  no  man  that  may  reporten  al. 
I  wol  nat  tarien  yow,  for  it  is  pryme, 
Antl  for  it  is  no  fruit  but  los  of  tyme; 
Un-to  my  firste  I  wol  have  my  recours.  75 
And    so    bifel    that,   after  the    thridde 

cours, 
Whyl  that  this  king  sit  thus  in  his  no- 

bleye, 


Ilerkninge     his    minstrallcs   hir   thinges 

pleye 
Biforn  him  at  the  bord  deliciously. 
In  at  the  halle-dore  al  sodeynly  80 

Ther   cam    a    knight    up-on    a    stede    of 

bras, 
And  in  his  hand  a  brood  mirour  of  glas. 
Upon  his  thombe  he  hadde   of  gold   a 

ring, 
And  by  his  syde  a  naked  swerd  hanging; 
And  up  he  rydeth  to  the  heighe  bord.  85 
In  al  the  halle  ne  was  ther  spoke  a  word 
For  merveille  of  this  knight;   him  to  bi- 

holde 
Ful  bisily  ther  wayten  yonge  and  olde. 
This    strange    knight,  that  cam   thus 

sodeynly, 
Al  armed  save  his  heed  ful  richely,       90 
Salueth  king  and  queen,  and  lordes  alle. 
By  ordre,  as  they  seten  in  the  halle. 
With  so  heigh  reverence  and  obeisaunce 
As  wel  in  speche  as  in  contenaunce. 
That  Gawain,  with  his  olde  curteisye,    95 
Though    he    were    come    ageyn    out  of 

Fairye, 
Ne  coude  him  nat  amende  with  a  word. 
And  after  this,  biforn  the  heighe  bord. 
He  with  a  manly  voys  seith  his  message. 
After  the  forme  used  in  his  langage,    100 
With-outen  vyce  of  sillable  or  of  lettre; 
And,  for  his  tale  sholde  seme  the  bettre, 
Accordant  to  his  wordes  was  his  chere, 
As  techeth   art    of  speche  hem   that   it 

lere; 
Al-be-it    that    I     can     nat     soune     his 

style,  105 

Ne    can    nat  climben  over  so   heigh   a 

style. 
Yet  seye  I  this,  as  to  commune  entente. 
Thus  muche  amounteth  al  that  ever  he 

mente. 
If  it  so  be  that  I  have  it  in  minde. 

He  seyde,  '  the  king  of  Arable  and  of 

Inde,  no 

My  lige  lord,  on  this  solempne  day 
Salueth  yow  as  he  best  can  and  may, 
And    sendeth    yow,  in    honour  of  your 

feste, 
By  me,  that  am  al  redy  at  your  heste. 
This  stede  of  bras,  that  esily  and  wel    115 
Can,  in  the  space  of  o  day  naturel. 
This    is  to    seyn,   in    foure    and    twenty 

houres, 


II8-I9I.] 


F.     THE   SOUIERES   TALE. 


685 


Wher-so    yovv    list,   in   droghte   or  elles 

shoures, 
Beren  your  body  in-to  every  place 
To    which    yo.ur    herte    wilneth     for    to 

pace    •    wf*/"^  120 

With-outen  vvem  of  yovv,  thurgh  foul  or 

fair; 
( )r,  if  yow  list  to  fleen  as  bye  in  the  air 
As  iloth  an  egle,  whan  him  list  to  sore, 
This  same  stetle  shal  here  yow  ever-more 
With-outen    harm,    til    ye    be   ther  yow 

Icsle,  125 

Though  that  ye  slepen   on   his   bak   or 

reste; 
And  turne  ayeyn,  with  wrything  of  a  pin. 
He  that  it  wroghte  coude  ful  many  a  gin; 
He  wayted  many  a  constellacioun 
Er  he  had  doon  this  operacioun;  130 

And  knew  ful  many  a  seel  and  many  a 

bond. 
This  mirour  eek,  that  I  have  in  myn 

bond, 
Hath  swich  a  might,  that  men  may  in  it 

see 
Whan  ther  shal  fallen  any  adversitee 
Un-to  your  regne  or  to  your-self  also;  135 
And  openly  who  is  your  freend  or  foo. 
And  over  al  this,  if  any  lady  bright 
Hath  set  hir  herte  on  any  maner  wight, 
If  he  be  fals,  she  shal  his  treson  see. 
His  newe  love  and  al  his  subtiltee         140 
So  openly,  that  ther  shal  no-thing  hyde. 
Wherfor,  ageyn  this  lusty  someres  tyde. 
This  mirour  and  this  ring,  that  ye  may 

see, 
He  hath  sent  to  my  lady  Canacee, 
Your  excellente  doghter  that  is  here.  145 

The  vertu  of  the  ring,  if  ye  wol  here. 
Is  this;    that,  if  hir  lust  it  for  to  were 
Up-on  hir  thombe,  or  in  hir  purs  it  bere, 
Ther   is   no   foul    that  fleeth    under  the 

hevene 
That  she   ne   shal  wel    understonde    his 

stevene,  150 

And  knowehis  mening  openly  and  pleyn. 
And  answere  him  in  his  langage  ageyn. 
And  every  gras  that  groweth  up-on  rote 
She  shal  eek  knowe,  and  whom  it  wol  do 

bote, 
Al  be  his  woundes  never  so  depe  and 

wyde.  155 

This  naked  swerd,  that  hangeth  by  my 

syde, 


Swich  vertu  hath,  that  what  man  so  ye 

smyte, 
Thurgh-out  his  armure  it  wol  kerve  and 

byte, 
Were  it  as  thikke  as  is  a  branched  ook ; 
And  what  man  that  is  wounded  with  the 

strook  1 60 

Shal    never  be    hool    til   that  yow  list, 

of  grace. 
To  stroke  him  with  the  platte  in  thilke 

place 
Ther   he  is    hurt :   this    is    as    muche    to 

seyn. 
Ye  mote  with  the  platte  swerd  ageyn 
Stroke  him  in    the  wounde,  and    it  wol 

close;  165 

This  is  a  verray  sooth,  with-outen  glose, 
It  failleth  nat  whyl  it  is  in  your  hold.' 
And  whan    this   knight  hath  thus  his 

tale  told. 
He  rydeth   out    of  halle,    and   doun    he 

lighte. 
His  stede,  which    that    shoon    as    sonne 

brighte,  170 

Stant  in  the  court,  as  stille  as  any  stoon. 
This  knight  is  to  his  chamhre  lad  anon. 
And  is  unarmed  and  to  mete  y-set. 

The  presentes  ben  ful  royally  y-fet. 
This   is    to    seyn,    the    swerd    and    the 

mirour,  175 

And  born  anon  in-to  the  heighe  tour 
With  certeine  officers  ordeyned  therfore; 
And  un-to  Canacee  this  ring  was  bore 
Solempnely,  ther  she  sit  at  the  table. 
But  sikerly,  with-outen  any  fable,         180 
The  hors   of  bras,  that  may   nat  be   re- 

mevved. 
It  stant  as  it  were  to  the  ground  y-glewed. 
Ther   may  no  man  out  of  the  place  it        ^    "   1 

dryve  \U^   / 

For  noon  engyn  of  windas  or  polyve ; '"'"''^ 
And  cause  why,  for    they  can   nat   the 

craft.  185 

And  therefore  in  the  place  they  han  it 

laft 
Til  that  the  knight  hath  taught  hem  the 

manere 
To  voyden  him,  as  ye  shal  after  here. 
Greet  was  the  prees  that  swarmeth  to 

and  fro,  189 

To  gauren  on  this  hors  that  stondeth  so; 
For  it  so  heigh  was,  and  so  brood  and 

long. 


^. 


686 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[192-26G. 


So  wel  proporcioned  for  to  ben  strong, 
Right  as  it  were  a  stede  of  Lumbardye; 
Ther-vvith  so  horsly,  and  so  quik  of  ye 
As  it  a  gentil  Poileys  courser  were.      195 
For  certes,  fro  his  tayl  un-to  his  ere, 
Nature  ne  art  ne  coude  him  nat  amende 
In  no  degree,  as  al  the  peple  wende. 
]5ut  evermore  hir  moste  wonder  was. 
How  that   it  coude   goon,  and   was   of 

bras;  200 

It  was  of  Fairye,  as  the  peple  semed. 
Diverse  folk  diversely  they  demed; 
As   many   hedes,    as   many    wittes    ther 

been. 
They  murmureden  as  dooth  a  swarm  of 

been. 
And  maden  skiles  after  hir  fantasyes,  205 
Rehersinge  of  thise  olde  poetryes, 
And  seyden,  it  was  lyk  the  Pegasee, 
The  hors  that  hadde  winges  for  to  flee; 
Or  elles  it  was  the  Grekes  hors  Synon, 
That  broghte  Troye  to  destruccion,     2IO 
As  men  may  in  thise  olde  gestes  rede. 
*  Myn  herte,'  quod  oon,  '  is  evermore  in 

drede; 
I   trowe  som  men  of  amies  been  ther- 

inne. 
That  shapen  hem  this  citee  for  to  winne. 
It  were  right  good  that  al  swich  thing 

were  knowe.'  215 

Another  rowned  to  his  felawe  lowe, 
And  seyde,  '  he  lyeth,  it  is  rather  lyk 
An  apparence  y-maad  by  som  magyk. 
As  logelours  pleyen  at  thise  festes  grete.' 
Of  sondry  doutes  thus  they  langle  and 

trete,  220 

As  lewed  peple  demeth  comunly 
Of  thinges  that  ben  maad  more  subtilly 
Than  they  can  in  her  lewednes  compre- 

hende; 
They  demen  gladly  to  the  badder  ende. 
And  somme  of  hem  wondred  on  the 

niirour,  225 

That  born  was  up  in-to  the  maister-tour. 
How  men  mighte  in   it   swiche    thinges 

see. 
Another  answerde,  and  seyde  it  mighte 

wel  be 
Naturelly,  by  composiciouns 
Of  angles  and  of  slye  reflexiouns,  230 

And  seyden,  that  in  Rome  was  swich  oon. 
They  speken  of  Alocen  and  Vitulon, 
And  Aristotle,  that  writen  in  hir  lyves 


Of  queynte  mirours  and  of  prospectyves. 
As    knowen    they    that    han    hir    bokes 

herd.  235 

And  othere  folk  han  wondred  on  the 

swerd 
That   wolde   percen    thurgh-out    every- 
thing; 
And    filie   in  speche   of  Thelophus   the 

king, 
And  of  Achilles  with  his  queynte  spere. 
For  he    coude  with  it  botlie    hele   and 

dere,  240 

Right  in  swich  wyse  as  men  may  with 

the  swerd 
Of  which  right  now  ye  han  your-selven 

herd. 
They  speken  of  sondry  harding  of  metal, 
And  speke  of  medicynes  ther-with-al, 
And  how,  and  whanne,  it  sholde  y-harded 

be;  245 

Which  is  unknowe  algates  unto  me. 
Tho  speke  they  of  Canacees  ring. 
And  seyden   alle,  that   swich   a  wonder 

thing 
Of  craft  of  ringes  herde  they  never  non. 
Save   that   he,  Moyses,  and   king  Salo- 
mon 250 
Hadde  a  name  of  konning  in  swich  art. 
Thus  seyn   the  peple,  and  drawen  hem 

apart. 
But  nathelees,  somme  seyden  that  it  was 
Wonder  to  maken  of  fern-asshen  glas, 
And    yet    nis    glas    nat    lyk    asshen    of 

fern;  255 

But  for  they  han  y-knowen  it  so  fern, 
Therfore  cesseth  her   langling  and  her 

wonder. 
As   sore  wondren  somme   on    cause    of 

thonder, 
On  ebbe,  on  flood,  on  gossomer,  and  on 

mist, 
And    alle    thing,    til   that   the    cause    is 

wist.  260 

Thus  langle  they  and  demen  and  devyse, 
Til  that  the  king  gan  fro  the  bord  aryse. 
Phebus  hath  laft  the  angle  meridional. 
And  yet  ascending  was  the  beest  royal. 
The  gentil  Leon,  with  his  Aldiaan  265 
Whan  that  this  Tartre  king,  this  Cambin- 

skan. 
Rocs  fro  his  bord,  ther  that  he  sat  ful 

hye. 
Toforn  him  gooth  the  loude  minstralcye, 


269-346.] 


F.     THE   SOUIERES  TALE. 


687 


Til  he  cam  to  liis  chambre  of  parements, 
Ther  as  tliey  sovvnen  diverse  instruments, 
That  it  is  lyk  an  heven  fur  to  here.  271 
Now  dauiiccn  lusty  Venus  children  dere, 
For  in  the  Fish  hir  lady  sat  ful  hye, 
And  loketh  on  hem  with  a  freendly  ye. 
This    noble    king    is    set    up    in    his 

trone.  275 

This  strange  knight  is  fet  to  him  ful  sonc, 
And  on  the  daunce  he  gooth  with  Cana- 

cee. 
Hear  is  the  revel  and  the  lolitee 
That  is  nat  able  a  dul  man  to  devyse. 
lie  moste  han  knowen  love  and  his  ser- 

vyse,  280 

And  been  a  festlich  man  as  fresh  as  May, 
That  shulde  yow  devysen  swich  array. 
Who   coude    telle    yow   the    forme    of 

daunces, 
So  uncouthc  and  so  fresshe  contenaunces, 
Swich  subtil  loking  and  dissimulinges  285 
For  drede  of  lalouse  mennes  aperceyv- 

inges? 
No  man  but  Launcelot,  and  he  is  deed. 
Therefor  I  passe  of  al  this  lustiheed; 
I  seye  na-more,  but  in  this  lolynesse 
I  lete  hem,  til  men  to  the  soper  dresse.  290 
The  styward  bit  the  spyces  for  to  hye, 
And  eek  the  wyn,  in  al  this  melodye. 
The  usshers  and  the  S(|uyers  ben  y-goon; 
The  spyces  and  the  wyn  is  come  anoon. 
They    ete    and    drinke;    and   whan    this 

hadde  an  ende,  295 

Un-to   the   temple,    as    reson   was,   they 

wende. 
The  service  doon,  they  soupen  al  by 

day. 
What  nedeth  yow  rehercen  hir  array? 
Ech  man  wot  wel,  that  at  a  kinges  feeste 
Hath    plentee,  to  the  moste  and  to  the 

leeste,  300 

And  deyntees  mo  than  been  in  my  know- 
ing. 
At-after  soper  gooth  this  noljle  king 
To  seen   this  hors  of   bras,  with   al  the 

route 
Of  lordes  and  of  ladyes  him  aboute. 
Swich  wondring  was  ther  on  this  hors 

of  bras  305 

That,  sin  the  grete  sege  of  Troye  was, 
Ther-as  men  wondreden  on  an  hors  also, 
Ne  was  ther  swich  a  wondring  as  was  tho. 
But  fynally  the  king  axeth  this  knight 


The  vertu  of  this  courser  and  the  miglit, 
And    preyede    him    to    telle    his    gover- 

naunce.  3'' 

This  hors  anoon  bigan  to  trippe   and 

daunce, 
Whan  that  this  knight  leyde  hand  up-on 

his  reyne. 
And  scyde, '  sir,  ther  is  na-more  to  seyne. 
But,     whan     yow     list     to     ryden     any- 
where, 315 
Ve  moten  trille  a  pin,  slant  in  his  ere, 
Which  I  shall  telle  yow  bitwix  vs  two. 
Ve  mote  nempne  him  to  what  place  also 
Or  to  what  contree  that  yow  list  to  ryde. 
And    whan    ye    come    ther    as    yow    list 

abyde,  320 

Bidde  him  descende,  and  trille  another 

pin. 
For  ther-in  lyth  the  effect  of  al  the  gin, 
And  he  wol   doun   descende   and   doon 

your  v\ille; 
And  in  that  place  he  wol  abyde  stille, 
Though  al  the  world  the  contrarie  hadde 

y-swore;  325 

He  shal    nat    thennes   ben   y-drawe    ne 

y-bore. 
Or,  if  yow  liste  bidde  him  thennes  goon, 
Trille  this  pin,  and  he  wol  vanishe  anoon 
Out  of  the  sighte  of  every  maner  wight. 
And  come  agayn,  be  it  by  day  or  night,  330 
When  that  yow  list  to  clepen  him  ageyn 
In  swich  a  gyse  as  I  shal  to  yow  seyn 
Bitwixe  yow  and  me,  and  that  ful  sone. 
Ryde  whan  yow  list,  ther  is  na-more  to 

done.' 
Enformed  whan  the  king  was  of  that 

knight,  ...       335 

And  hath  conceyved  in  his  wit  aright 
The  maner  and  the  forme  of  al  this  thing. 
Thus  glad  and  blythe,  this  noble  doughty 

king 
Repeireth  to  his  revel  as  liiforn. 
The  brydel  is  un-to  the  tour  y-born,    340 
And  kept  among  his  Jewels  leve  and  dere. 
The  hors  vanisshed,  I  noot  in  what  man- 

ere, 
Out  of  hir  sighte;    ye  gete  na-more  of  me. 
But  this  I  lete  in  lust  and  Tolitee 
This  Canibynskan  his  lordes  festeyinge, 
Til  wel  ny  the  day  bigan  to  springe.    346 

Explicit  prima  pars.     Seqtiitur  pars 
secunda. 


688 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[347-428. 


The  norice  of  digestioun,  the  slepe, 
Gan  on  hem  winke,  and  bad  hem  taken 

kepe, 
That  muchel  drink  and  labour  wolde  han 

reste; 
And  with  a  galping  mouth  hem  alle  he 

keste,  350 

And  seyde,  '  it  was  tyme  to  lye  adoun, 
For  blood  was  in  his  dominacioun; 
Cherissheth  blood,  natures  freend,'  quod 

he. 
They  thanken  him  galpinge,  by  two,  by 

three, 
And  every  wight  gan  drawe  him  to  his 

reste,  355 

As  slepe  hem  bad;   they  toke  it  for  the 

beste. 
Hir  dremes  shul  nat  been  y-told  for  me; 
Ful  were  hir  hedes  of  fumositee. 
That  causeth  dreem,  of  which  ther  nis  no 

charge.  359 

They  slepen  til  that  it  was  pryme  large. 
The  moste  part,  but  it  were  Canacee; 
She  was  ful  mesurahle,  as  wommen  be. 
For  of  hir  fader  hadde  she  take  leve 
To  gon  to  reste,  sone  after  it  was  eve; 
Hir  liste  nat  appalled  for  to  be,  365 

Nor  on  the  morvve  unfestlich  for  to  see; 
And  slepte  hir  firste  sleep,  and    thanne 

awook. 
For  swich  a  loye  she  in  hir  herte  took 
Both  of  hir  queynte  ring  and  hir  mirour. 
That  twenty  tyme  she  changed  hir  col- 
our; 370 
And  in  hir  slepe,  right  for  impressioun 
Of  hir  mirour,  she  hadde  a  visioun. 
Wherfore,  er  that  the  sonne  gan  up  glyde. 
She  cleped  on  hir  maistresse  hir  bisyde, 
And  seyde,  that  hir  liste  for  to  ryse.    375 
Thise  olde  wommen  that  been  gladly 

wyse. 
As  is  hir  maistresse,  answerde  hir  anoon, 
And  seyde, '  madame,  whider  wil  ye  goon 
Thus  erly?  for  the  folk  ben  alle  on  reste.' 
'  I  wol,'  quod  she, '  aryse,  for  me  leste  380 
No  lenger  for  to  slepe,  and  walke  aboute.' 
Hir  maistresse  clepeth  wommen  a  gret 

route. 
And  up  they  rysen,  wel  a  ten  or  twelve; 
Up  ryseth  fresshe  Canacee  hir-selve, 
As  rody  and  bright  as  dooth  the  yonge 

sonne,  3S5 

That  in  the  Ram  is  four  degrees  up-ronne; 


Noon  hyer  was  he,  whan  she  redy  was; 
And  forth  she  walketh  esily  a  pas. 
Arrayed  after  the  lusty  seson  sote 
Lightly,    for    to    pleye    and    walke    on 

fote;  390 

Nat  but  with  fyve  or  six  of  hir  nieynee; 
And  in  a  trench,  forth  in  the  park,  goth 

she. 
The  vapour,  which  that  fro  the  erthe  glood. 
Made  the  sonne  to  seme  rody  and  brood; 
But  nathelees,  it  was  so  fair  a  sighte   395 
That  it  made  alle  hir  hertes  for  to  lighte, 
What  for  the  seson  and  the  morweninge. 
And  for  the  foules  that  she  herde  singe; 
For  right  anon  she  wiste  what  they  niente 
Right  by  hir  song,  and  knew  al  hir  en- 
tente. 400 
The  knotte,  why  that  every  tale  is  told. 
If  it  be  taried  til  that  lust  be  cold 
Of  hem  that  han  it  after  herkned  yore. 
The  savour  passeth  ever  lenger  the  more. 
For  fulsomnesse  of  his  prolixitee.          405 
And  by  the  same  reson  thinketh  me, 
I  sholde  to  the  knotte  condescende. 
And  maken  of  hir  walking  sone  an  ende. 
Amidde  a  tree  fordrye,  as  whyt  as  chalk, 
As  Canacee  was  pleying  in  hir  walk,  410 
Ther  sat  a  faucon  over  hir  heed  ful  hye. 
That  with  a  pitous  voys  so  gan  to  crye 
That  all  the  wode  resouned  of  hir  cry. 
Y-beten  hath  she  hir-self  so  pitously 
With    bothe    hir    winges,   til    the    rede 

blood  415 

Ran  endelong  the  tree  ther-as  she  stood. 
And    ever  in  oon  she    cryde    alwey  and 

shrighte. 
And   with   hir   beek   hir-selven    so    she 

prighte. 
That   ther  nis  tygre,  ne  noon    so   cruel 

beste. 
That    dwelleth    either    in    wode    or    in 

foreste  420 

That   nolde  han   wept,  if  that  he  wepe 

coude. 
For  sorwe  of  hir,  she  shrighte  alwey  so 

loude. 
For  ther  nas  never  yet  no  man  on  lyve  — 
If  that  I  coude  a  faucon  wel  discryve  — 
That  herde  of  swich  another  of  fairnesse. 
As  wel  of  plumage  as  of  gentillesse     426 
Of  shap,  and  al  that  mighte   y-rekened 

be. 
A  faucon  peregryn  than  semed  she 


429-510.] 


F.    THE  SQUIERES  TALE. 


689 


Of   fremde  land;    and    evermore,  as  she 

stood, 
She  swovvneth  now  ami  now  for  lakke  of 

blood,  430 

Til  wel  neigh  is  she  fallen  fro  the  tree. 
This  faire  kinges  doghtcr,  Canacce, 
That  on  hir  finger  bar  the  queynte  ring, 
Thurgh  which  she  understood  wel  every 

thing 
That  any  foul  may  in  his  ledene  seyn,  435 
And  coude  answere  him    in    his    ledene 

ageyn, 
Ilath    understonde    what     this     faucon 

seyde, 
And    wel    neigh  for  the   rewthe   almost 

she  deyde. 
And  to  the  ttee  she  gooth  ful  hastily. 
And  on  this  faucon  loketh  pitously,     440 
And    heeld    hir    lappe    abrood,    for    wel 

she  wiste 
The  faucon  moste  fallen  fro  the  tvviste. 
When  that  it  swowned  next,  for  lakke  of 

blood. 
A  longe  while  to  wayten  hir  she  stood 
Till  atte  laste  she  spak  in  this  manere  445 
Un-to  the  hauk,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 

'  What  is  the  cause,  if  it  be  for  to  telle. 
That  ye  be  in  this  furial  pyne  of  helle?' 
Quod  Canacee  un-to  this  hauk  above. 
'  Is   this  for   sorvve  of    deeth   or   los  of 

love?  450 

For,  as  I  trowe,  thise  ben  causes  two 
That  causen  moost  a  gentil  herte  wo; 
Of  other  harm  it  nedeth  nat  to  speke. 
For    ye   your-self    upon    your-self    yow 

wreke, 
Which   proveth  wel,  that  either  love  or 

drede  455 

Mot  been  encheson  of  your  cruel  dede. 
Sin   that    I  see   non    other   wight    yow 

chace. 
For  love  of  god,    as  dooth  your-selven 

grace 
Or  what  may  ben   your   help;   for  west 

nor  eest  459 

Ne  sey  I  never  er  now  no  brid  ne  beest 
That  ferde  with  him-self  so  pitously. 
Ye  slee  me  with  your  sorwe,  verraily; 
I  have  of  yow  so  gret  compassioun. 
For  goddes  love,  com  fro  the  tree  adoun; 
And,  as  I  am  a  kinges  doghter  trewe,  465 
If  that  I  verraily  the  cause  knewe 
Of  your  disese,  if  it  lay  in  my  might, 
2Y 


I  wolde  amende  it,  er  that  it  were  night, 
As  wisly  helpe  me  gret  god  of  kinde  ! 
And  herbes  shal  I  right  y-nowe  y-tinde 
To  hele  with  your  hurtes  hastily.'         471 
Tho  shrighte  this  faucon  more  pitously 
Than  ever  she  dide,  and  fil  to  grounde 

anoon. 
And    lyth    aswowne,    deed,    and    lyk    a 

stoon. 
Til  Canacee  hath  in  hir  lappe  hir  take  475 
Un-to    the    tynie    she    gan    of    swough 

awake. 
And,  after  that  she  of   hir  swough  gan 

breyile. 
Right    in   hir    haukes    ledene    thus    she 

seyde  :  — 
'Thatpitee  renneth  sone  in  gentil  herte, 
Feling  his  similitude  in  peyncs  smerte, 
Is  preved  al-day,  as  men  may  it  see,    481 
As  wel  by  werk  as  by  auctoritee; 
For  gentil  herte  kytheth  gentillesse. 
I  see  wel,  that  ye  han  of  my  liistresse 
Compassioun,  my  faire  Canacee,  485 

Of  verray  wommanly  benignitee 
That  nature  in  your  principles  hath  set. 
But  for  non  hope  for  to  fare  the  bet, 
But  for  to  obeye  un-to  your  herte  free. 
And  for  to  maken  other  be  war  by  me,  490 
As  by  the  whelp  chasted  is  the  leoun, 
Right  for  that   cause    and   that   conclu- 

sioun, 
Whyl  that  I  have  a  leyser  and  a  space, 
Myn  harm  I  wol  confessen,  er  I  pace.' 
And  ever,  whyl  that  oon  hir  sorwe  tolde. 
That  other  weep,  as  she  to  water  wolde, 
Til  that  the  faucon  bad  hir  to  be  stille; 
And,  with  a  syk,  right  thus   she   seyde 

hir  wille. 
'  Ther   I  was  bred  (alias !   that  harde 

day!)  499 

And  fostred  in  a  roche  of  marbul  gray 
So  tendrely,  that  nothing  eyled  me, 
I  niste  nat  what  was  adversitee. 
Til  I  coude  flee  ful  hye  under  the  sky. 
Tho  dwelte  a  tercelet  me  faste  by. 
That  semed  welle  of  alle  gentillesse;  505 
Al  were  he  ful  of  treson  and  falsnesse. 
It  was  so  wrapped  under  humble  chese. 
And    under   hewe    of  trouthe   in   swich 

manere. 
Under  plesance,  and  under  bisy  peyne. 
That  no  wight  coude  han  wend  he  coude 

feyne,  510 


690 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[5' 1-595- 


So  (kpe  in  greyn  he  dyed  his  coloures. 
Rij,'lit  as  a  serpent  hit  him  under  fioures 
'l"il  he  may  seen  his  tyme  for  to  byte, 
Rij^'ht  so  this  god  of  love,  this  ypocryte, 
I)wth  so  his  cerimonies  and  obeisaunces, 
;\iul   kepeth  in  seniblant  alle  his  obser- 
vances 516 
'I'han  sovvneth  in-to  gentillesse  of  love. 
As  in  a  toumbe  is  al  the  faire  above. 
And  under  is  the  corps,  swich  as  ye  woot, 
Swich  was  this  ypocryte,  bothe  cold  and 

hoot,  520 

And  in  this  wyse  he  served  his  entente. 
That  (save  the  feend)  non  wiste  what  he 

mente. 
Til  he  so  longe   had   wopen   and   com- 

pleyned. 
And   many   a    yeer   his   service    to   me 

feyned, 
Til  that  myn  herte,  to  pitous  and  tonyce, 
Al  innocent  of  his  crouned  malice,      526 
For-fered  of  his  deeth,  as  thoughte  me, 
Upon  his  othes  and  hisseuretee, 
Graunted  him  love,  on  this  condicioun, 
That  evermore  myn  honour  and  renoun 
Were  saved,  bothe  privee  and  apert;  531 
This  is  to  seyn,  that,  after  his  desert, 
I   yaf    him    al  myn    herte    and    al    my 

thoght  — 
God    woot     and     he,     that     otherwyse 

noght — 
And  took  his  herte  in  chaunge  for  myn 

for  ay.  535 

But  sooth  is  seyd,  gon   sithen   many   a 

day, 
"  A  trew  wight  and  a  theef  thenken  nat 

oon." 
And,  whan  he   saugh    the   thing  so  fer 

y-goon, 
That  I  had  graunted  him  fully  my  love. 
In  swich  a  gyse  as  I  have  seyd  above,  540 
And  yeven  him  my  trewe  herte,  as  free 
As  he  swoor  he  his  herte  yaf  to  me; 
Anon  this  tygre,  ful  of  doublenesse, 
Fil  on   his   knees  with  so   devout  hum- 

blesse, 
With  so  heigh  reverence,  and,  as  by  his 

chere,  545 

So  lyk  a  gentil  lovere  of  manere, 
So  ravisshed,  as  it  semed,  for  the  loye. 
That  never  lason,  ne  Parys  of  Troye, 
lason?  certes,  ne  non  other  man. 
Sin  Lameth  was,  that  aldertirst  bigan  550 


To  loven  two,  as  vvriten  folk  biforn, 
Ne  never,  sin  the  firste  man  was  born, 
Ne  coude  man,  by  twenty  thousand  part, 
Countrefete  the  sophimes  of  his  art; 
Ne  were  worthy  unbokele  his  galoche,  555 
Ther  doublenesse  or  feyning  sholde  ap- 

proche, 
Ne  so  coude  thanke  a  wight  as  he  did  me  ! 
His  maner  was  an  heven  for  to  see 
Til  any  womman,  were  she  never  so  wys; 
So  peynted  he  and  kembde  at  point-devys 
As  wel  his  wordes  as  his  contenaunce.  561 
And  I  so  lovede  him  for  his  obeisaunce. 
And  for  the  trouthe  I  denied  in  his  herte. 
That,   if   so   were    that   any  thing   him 

smerte,  564 

Al  were  it  never  so  lyte,  anj  I  it  wiste, 
Me    thoughte,  I   felte  deeth   myn  herte 

twiste. 
And  shortly,  so  ferforth  this  thing  is  went, 
That  my  wil  was  his  willes  instrument; 
This  is  to  seyn,  my  wil  obeyed  his  wil 
In  alle  thing,  as  fer  as  reson  fil,  570 

Keping  the  boundes  of  my  worship  ever. 
Ne  never  hadde  I  thing  so  leef,  ne  lever. 
As  him,  god  woot !   ne  never  shal  na-mo. 
This  lasteth  lenger  than  a  yeer  or  two, 
That  I  supposed  of  him  noght  but  good. 
But  fynally,  thus  atte  laste  it  stood,     576 
That  fortune  wolde  that  he  moste  twinne 
Out  of  that  place  which  that  I  was  inne. 
Wher  me  was  wo,  that  is  no  questioun; 
I  can  nat  make  of  it  discripcioun;       580 
For  o  thing  dar  1  tellen  boldely, 
I  knovve  what  is  the  peyne  of  deth  ther- 

by; 
Swich  harm  I  felte  for  he  ne  mighte  bi- 

leve. 
So  on  a  day  of  me  he  took  his  leve,    584 
So  sorwefuUy  eek,  that  I  wende  verraily 
That  he  had  felt  as  muche  harm  as  I, 
Whan  that  I  herde  him  speke,  and  saugh 

his  hewe. 
But    nathelees,    I    thoughte    he   was   so 

trewe. 
And  eek  that  he  repaire  sholde  ageyn 
With-inne  a  litel  vvhyle,  sooth  to  seyn; 
And  reson  wolde  eek  that  he  moste  go  591 
For  his  honour,  as  ofte  it  happeth  so, 
That  I  made  vertu  of  necessitee. 
And  took  it  wel,  sin  that  it  moste  be. 
As  I  best  mighte,  1  hidde  fro  him  my 

sorwe,  595 


596-668.] 


F.    THE   SQUIERES  TALE. 


6gi 


And  took  him  by  the  hond,  seint  lohn  to 

horwe, 
And  scyde  him  thus :   "  lo,  I  am  youres 

al; 
Beth  swich  as  I  to  yow  have  been,  and 

shal." 
What  he  answerde,  it  nedeth  noght  re- 

herce, 
Who  can  sey  bet  than  he,  who  can  do 

werse  ?  6oo 

Whan  he  hath  al  wel  seyd,  thanne  hath 

he  duon. 
"Therefor  bihovcth  him  a  ful  long  spoon 
That  shal  ete  with  a  feend,"  thus  herde  I 

seye. 
So  atte  laste  he  moste  forth  his  weye, 
And  forth  he  fleeth,  til  he  cam  ther  him 

Icste.  605 

Whan  it  cam  him  to  purpos  for  to  reste, 
I  trowe  he  hadde  tliilUe  text  in  minde, 
That  "  alle  thing,  repeiring  to  his  kinde, 
Gladeth  hini-self";    thus  seyn  men,  as  I 

gesse; 
Men  loven  of  propre  kinde  newfangel- 

nesse,  610 

As  briddes  doon  that  men  in  cages  fede. 
For  though  thou  night  and  day  take  of 

hem  hede. 
And  strawe  hir  cage  faire  and  softe  as 

silk, 
And  yeve  hem  sugre,  hony,  breed  and 

milk,  614 

Yet  right  anon,  as  that  his  dore  is  uppe, 
He  with  his  feet  wol  spurne  adoun  his 

cuppe, 
And  to  the  wode  he  wol  and  wormes  ete; 
So  newefangel  been  they  of  hir  mete, 
And  loven  novelryes  of  propre  kinde; 
No  gentillesse  of  blood   [ne]   may  hem 

hinde.  620 

So  ferde  this  tercelet,  alias  the  day ! 
Though  he  were  gentil  born,  and  fresh 

and  gay, 
And  goodly  for  to  seen,  and  humble  and 

free. 
He  saugh  up-on  a  tyme  a  kyte  flee, 
And  soileynly  he  loved  this  kyte  so,    625 
That  al  his  love  is  dene  fro  me  ago, 
And  hath  his  trouthe  falsed  in  thiswyse; 
'i'hus  hath  the  kyte  my  love  in  hir  servyse. 
And  I  am  lorn  with-outen  remedye  ! ' 
And  with  that  word  this  faucon  gan  to 

crye,  630 


And  swowncd  eft  in  C'anacees  barme. 
(Ireet  was  the  sorvve,   for  the  haukcs 

harme, 
That    Canacce    and    alle    hir    wommen 

made; 
They  niste  how  they  mighte  the  faucon 

glade.  634 

Rut  Canacee  hom  bereth  hir  in  hir  lapjie. 
And  softely  in  piastres  gan  hir  \\rappc, 
Ther  as  she  with  hir  beek   had  hurt  hir- 

selve. 
Now  can  nat  Canacee  but  herbes  delve 
Out  of  the   grounde,  and    make    salves 

newe  639 

Of  herbes  precious,  and  fyne  of  hewe. 
To    helen    with   this    hauk;    fro    day    to 

night 
She  dooth  hir  bisinesse  and  al  hir  might. 
And    by   hir    beddes    heed    she    made  a 

mewe. 
And  covered  it  with  veluettes  blewe. 
In  signe  of  trouthe  that  is  in  wommen 

sene.  645 

And  al  with-oute,  the  mewe  is  peynted 

grene. 
In  which  were  peynted  alle  thise  false 

foules. 
As  beth  thise  tidifs,  tercelets,  and  oules. 
Right    for    despyt    were    peynted    hem 

bisyde,  649 

And  pyes,  on  hem  for  to  crye  and  chyde. 
Thus  lete  I  Canacee  hir  hauk  keping; 
I  wol  na-more  as  now  speke  of  hir  ring. 
Til  it  come  eft  to  purpos  for  to  seyn 
How  that  this  faucon  gat  hir  love  ageyn 
Repentant,  as  the  storie  telleth  us,       655 
By  mediacioun  of  Cambalus, 
The  kinges  sone,  of  whiche  I  yow  tolde. 
But  hennes-forth  I  wol  my  proces  hokle 
To  speke  of  aventures  and  of  batailles. 
That  never  yet  was  herd  so  grete  mer- 

vailles.  660 

First  wol  I  telle  yow  of  Cambinskan, 
That  in  his  tyme  many  a  citee  wan; 
And  after  wol  I  speke  of  Algarsyf, 
How  that  he  wan  Theodora  to  his  wyf. 
For   whom    ful    ofte    in    greet    peril    he 

was,  665 

Ne  hadde  he  ben  holpen  by  the  stede  of 

bras; 
And  after  wol  I  speke  of  Cambalo, 
That  faught  in  listes  with  the  bretheren 

two 


692 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[669-728. 


For  Canacee,  er  that  he  mighte  hir  winne. 
And  ther  I  lefte  I  wol  ageyn  biginne.  670 

Explicit  secunda  pars.    Incipit  pars 
tercia. 

Appollo  whirleth  up  his  char  so  hye, 
Til    that    the    god    Mercurius   hous   the 
slye  — 

Here  folwen  the  ivordes  of  the  Frankelin 

to  the  Squier,  and  the  wordes  of  the 

Host  to  the  Frankelin. 

'  In    feith,   Squier,  thou    hast   thee   wel 

y-quit, 
And  gentilly  I  preise  wel  thy  wit,' 
Quod  the   Frankeleyn,  '  considering  thy 

youthe,  675 

So   feelingly  thou   spekest,  sir,  I  allow 

the! 
As  to  my  doom,  there  is  non  that  is  here 
Of  eloquence  that  shal  be  thy  pere. 
If  that  thou  live;    god  yeve  thee  good 

chaunce,  679 

And  in  vertu  sende  thee  continuaunce ! 
For  of  thy  speche  I  have  greet  deyntee. 
I  have  a  sone,  anfi,  by  the  Trinitee, 
I  hadde  lever  than  twenty  pound  worth 

lond, 
Though  it  right  now  were  fallen  in  myn 

bond. 


He  were  a  man  of  swich  discrecioun  685 

As  that  ye  been !   fy  on  possessioun 

But-if  a  man  be  vertuous  with-al. 

I  have  my  sone  snibi)ed,  and  yet  shal, 

For  he  to  vertu  listeth  nat  entende; 

But   for   to   pleye  at   dees,   and   to   de- 

spende,  690 

And  lese  al  that  he  hath,  is  his  usage. 
And  he  hath  lever  talken  with  a  page 
Than  to  comune  with  any  gentil  wight 
Ther  he  mighte  lerne  gentillesse  aright.' 
'  Straw  for  your  gentillesse,'  quod  our 

host;  695 

'  What,    frankeleyn  ?      pardee,    sir,    wel 

thou  wost 
That  eche  of  yow  mot  tellen  atte  leste 
A  tale  or  two,  or  breken  his  biheste.' 
'That    knowe    I    wel,    sir,'   quod    the 

frankeleyn; 
'  I  prey  yow,  haveth  me  nat  in  desdeyn 
Though  to  this  man  I  speke  a  word  or 

two.'  701 

'Telle  on  thy  tale  with-outen  wordes 

mo.' 
'  Gladly,    sir    host,'    quod    he,    '  I    wol 

obeye 
Un-to  your  wil;    now  herkneth  what   I 

seye. 
I  wol  yow  nat  contrarien  in  no  wyse  705 
As  fer  as  that  my  wittes  wol  suffyse; 
I  prey  to  god  that  it  may  plesen  yow, 
Than  woot  I  wel  that  it  is  good  y-now.' 


[  The  Frankleyn's  Prologue  follows  immediately^ 


THE   FRANKLIN'S  PROLOGUE. 


The  Prologe  of  the  Frankeleyns  Tale. 

Thise  olde  gentil  Britons  in  hir  dayes 
Of  diverse  aventures  maden  layes,      710 
Rymeyed  in  hir  firste  Briton  tonge; 
Which  layes  with   hir  instruments  they 

songe, 
Or  elles  redden  hem  for  hir  plesaunce; 
And    oon    of   hem    have    I    in    remem- 

braunce, 
Which   I  shal  seyn  with  good  wil  as  I 

can.  715 

But,  sires,  by-cause  I  am  a  burel  man. 
At  my  biginning  first  I  yow  biseche 


Have  me  excused  of  my  rude  speche; 

I  lerned  never  rethoryk  certeyn; 

Thing  that  I  speke,  it  moot  be  bare  and 

pleyn.  720 

I  sleep  never  on  the  mount  of  Pernaso, 
Ne  lerned  Marcus  Tullius  Cithero. 
Colours  ne    knowe    I    none,  with-outen 

drede. 
But   swiche    colours   as  growen    in    the 

mede. 
Or  elles  swiche  as  men  dye  or  peynte.  725 
Colours  of  rethoryk  ben  me  to  queynte; 
My  spirit  feleth  noght  of  swich  matere. 
But  if  yow  list,  my  tale  shul  ye  here. 


729-794-] 


F.    THE   FRANKELEYNS   TALE. 


693 


THE   FRANKELEYNS  TALE. 


Here  bigitineth  tlie  Frankcleyns  Tale. 

In  Armorik,  that  called  is  Hritayne, 
Ther  was  a  knight  that  loved  and  dide  his 

payne  730 

To  serve  a  lady  in  his  heste  wyse; 
And  many  a  labour,  many  a  greet  em- 

pryse 
He  for  his   lady  wroghte,  er  she  were 

wonne. 
For    she    was    oon,    the    faireste    under 

Sonne, 
And  eek  therto  come  of  so  heigh  kin- 
rede,  735 
That  vvel  unnethes  dorste  this  knight,  for 

drede, 
Telle  liir  his  wo,  his  peyne,  and  his  dis- 

tresse. 
But  atte  laste,  she,  for  his  worthinesse. 
And  namely  for  his  meke  obeysaunce. 
Hath  swich  a  pitee  caught  of   his  pen- 

aunce,  74° 

That  prively  she  fil  of  his  accord 
To  take  him  for  hir  housbonde  and  hir 

lord, 
Of  swich  lordshipe  as  men  han  over  hir 

wyves  ; 
And    for  to  lede  the  more  in  blisse  hir 

lyves. 
Of    his    free    wil    he    swoor    hir    as    a 

knight,  745 

That  never  in  al  his  lyf  he,  day  ne  night, 
Ne  sholde  up-on  him  take  no  maistrye 
Agayn  hir  wil,  ne  kythe  hir  lalousye. 
But  hir  obeye,  and  folvve  hir  wil  in  al 
As  any  lovere  to  his  lady  shal;  750 

Save  that  the  name  of  soveraynetee. 
That  wolde  he  have  for  shame  of  his  de- 
gree. 
She  thanked  him,,  and  with  ful  greet 

humhlesse 
She  seyde,  '  sire,  sith  of  your  gentillesse 
Ye  profre  me  to  have  so  large  a  reyne,  755 
Ne  wolde  never  god  bitwixe  us  tweyne. 
As  in  my  gilt,  were  outher  werre  or  stryf. 
Sir,  I  wol  be  your  humble  trewe  wyf. 
Have  heer  my  trouthe,  til  that  myn  herte 
breste.' 


Thus  been  they  bothe  in  (juiete  and  in 

reste.  760 

For  o  thing,  sires,  saufly  dar  I  seye. 
That  frendes  everich  other  moot  ol)eye. 
If  they  wol  longe  holden  companye. 
Love  wol  nat  ben  constreyned  by  mais- 

trye; 
Whan  maistrie  comth,  the  god  of  love 

anon  765 

Beteth  hise  winges,  and  farewel !    he  is 

gon! 
Love  is  a  thing  as  any  spirit  free; 
Wommen  of  kinde  desirtn  libertee, 
And  nat  to  ben  constreyned  as  a  thral; 
And  so  don  men,  if  1  soth  seyen  shal.  770 
Loke  who  that  is  most  pacient  in  love. 
He  is  at  his  avantage  al  above. 
Pacience  is  an  heigh  vertu  certeyn; 
For  it  venquisseth,  as  thise  clerkes  seyn, 
Thinges    that    rigour    sholde    never   at- 

teyne.  775 

For  every  word  men  may  nat  chyde  or 

pleyne. 
Lerneth    to   suffre,  or  elles,   so   moot   I 

goon. 
Ye    shul    it    lerne,  wher-so    ye  wole    or 

noon. 
For  in  this  world,  certein,  ther  no  wight  is. 
That    he    ne    dooth    or   seith    som-tyme 

amis.  780 

Ire,  siknesse,  or  constellacioun, 
Wyn,  wo,  or  chaunginge  of  complexioun 
Causeth  ful  ofte  to  doon  amis  or  speken. 
On  every  wrong  a  man  may  nat  be  wreken; 
After  the  tyme,  moste  be  temperaunce  785 
To  every  wight  that  can  on  governaunce. 
And  therfore  hath  this  wyse  worthy  knight. 
To  live  in  ese,  suffrance  hir  bihight, 
And  she  to  him  ful  wisly  gan  to  swere 
That    never   sholde    ther  be   defaute   in 

here.  790 

Ileer  may  men  seen  an   humble  wys 

accord; 
Thus  hath  she  take  hir  servant  and  hir 

lord. 
Servant  in  love,  and  lord  in  manage; 
Than  was  he  bothe  in  lordship  and  ser- 
vage; 


694 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[795-871- 


Servage?  nay,  Vjut  in  lordshipe  above, 
Sith  he  hath  bothe  his  lady  and  his  love; 
His  lady,  certes,  and  his  wyf  also, 
The  which  that  lawe  of  love  acordeth  to. 
And  whan  he  was  in  this  prosperitee, 
Hooai  with  his  wyf  he  gooth  to  his  con- 
tree,  800 
Nat  fer  fro  Penmark,  ther  his  dwelling 

was, 
Wher-as  he  liveth  in  blisse  and  in  solas. 
Who  coude  telle,  but  he  had  wedded 

be, 
TI1C  loye,  the  ese,  and  the  prosperitee 
That   is  jjitwixe  an  housbonde  and   his 

wyf?  805 

A  yeer  and  more  lasted  this  blisful  lyf, 
Til  that  the  knight  of  which  I  speke  of 

thus, 
That  of  Kayrrud  was  cleped  Arveragus, 
Shoop  him  to  goon,  and  dwelle  a  yeer  or 

tweyne 
In  Engelond,  that  cleped  was  eek  Brit- 

eyne,  810 

To  seke  in  armes  worship  and  honour; 
For  al  his  lust  he  sette  in  swich  labour; 
And   dwelled    ther    two  yeer,   the    book 

seith  thus. 
Now  wol  I  stinte  of  this  Arveragus, 
And  speken  I  wole  of  Dorigene  his  wyf. 
That  loveth  hir  housbonde  as  hir  hertes 

lyf.  816 

For  his  absence  wepeth  she  and  syketh. 
As    doon    thise    noble  wyves  whan  hem 

lyketh. 
She  moorneth,  waketh,  wayleth,  fasteth, 

pleyneth; 
Desyr  of  his  presence  hir  so  distreyneth. 
That   al   this  wyde   world   she   sette    at 

noght.  821 

Hir  frendes,  whiche  that  knewe  hir  hevy 

thoght, 
Conforten  hir  in  al  that  ever  they  may; 
They  prechen   hir,  they   telle  hir  night 

and  day,  824 

That  causelees  she  sleeth  hir-self,  alias ! 
And  every  confort  possible  in  this  cas 
They  doon  to  hir  with  al  hir  bisinesse, 
Al  for  to  make  hir  leve  hir  hevinesse. 

By  proces,  as  ye  knowen  everichoon, 
Men  may  so  longe  graven  in  a  stoon,  830 
Til  som  figure  ther-inne  emprented  be. 
So  longe  han  they  conforted  hir,  til  she 
Receyved  hath,  by  hope  and  by  resoun. 


The  emprenting  of  hir  consolaciuun, 
Thurgh     which    hir     grete     sorwe     gan 

aswage ;  835 

She  may  nat  alwey  duren  in  swich  rage. 

And  eek  Arveragus,  in  al  this  care. 
Hath   sent   hir  lettres  hoom  of  his  wel- 
fare, 
And  that  he  wol  come  hastily  agayn ; 
Or  elles  hadde  this  sorwe  hir  herte  slayn. 
Hir   freendes  sawe   hir   sorwe  gan   to 

slake,  841 

And  preyede  hir  on  knees,  for  goddes 

sake, 
To  come  and  romen  hir  in  companye, 
Awey  to  dryve  hir  derke  fantasye. 
And  finally,  she  graunted  tliat  requeste; 
For  wel  she  saugh   that   it  was   for   the 

beste.  846 

Now  stood  hir  castel  faste  by  the  see. 

And  often  with  hir  freendes  walketh  she 

Hir  to  disporte  up-on  the  bank  an  heigh, 

Wher-as   she   many   a   ship   and    barge 

seigh  850 

Seilinge  hir  cours,  wher-as  hem  liste  go; 
But  than  was  that  a  parcel  of  hir  wo. 
P"or  to  hir-self  ful  ofte  '  alias  !  '  seith  she, 
'  Is  ther  no  ship,  of  so  manye  as  I  see, 
Wol  bringen  horn    my  lord?   than  were 

myn  herte  855 

Al  warisshed  of  his  bittre  peynes  smerte.' 

Another  tyme  ther  wolde  she  sitte  and 

thinke, 
And  caste    hir    eyen  dounward    fro   the 

brinke. 
But   whan  she  saugh  the  grisly  rokkes 

blake. 
For  verray  fere  so  wolde  hir  herte  quake, 
That  on  hir  feet  she   mighte   hir   noght 

sustene.  861 

Than  wolde   she   sitte    adoun  upon  the 

grene. 
And  pitously  in-to  the  see  biholde. 
And  seyn  right  thus,  with  sorweful  sykes 

colde : 
'  Eterne  god,  that  thurgh  thy  purvey- 

aunce  865 

Ledest  the  world  by  certein  governaunce, 
In  ydel,  as  men  seyn,  ye  no-thing  make; 
But,    lord,    thise    grisly    feendly    rokkes 

blake, 
That  semen  rather  a  foul  confusioun 
Of  werk  than  any  fair  creacioun  870 

Of  swich  a  partit  wys  god  and  a  stable, 


872-942.] 


F".     THE   FRANKLLEYNS  TALE. 


695 


Why  han  ye  wroght  this  wcrk  unresuna- 

ble? 
For  by  this  werk,  south,  north,  ne  west, 

ne  eest, 
Ther    nis   y-fostred   man,    ne    brid,    ne 

beest; 
It  dooth  no  good,  to  my  wit,  but  anoy- 

eth,  875 

See   ye   nat,   lord,   how  mankinde  it  de- 

stroyeth  ? 
An  hundred   thousand   bodies   of  man- 
kinde 
Han   rokkes   slayn,    al    be    they   nat   in 

niinde. 
Which  mankinde  is  so  fair  part  of  thy 

werk 
That  thou  it  madest  lyk  to  thyn  owene 

merk.  880 

Than  semed  it  ye  hadde  a  greet  chiertee 
Toward  mankinde ;    but  how  than  may 

it  be 
That  ye  swiche  menes  make  it   to    de- 

stroyen, 
Whiche    menes  do    no   good,    but   ever 

anoyen  ? 
I  woot  wel   clerkes  wol   seyn,    as   hem 

leste,  885 

By  arguments,  that  al  is  for  the  beste, 
Tho  I  ne  can  the  causes  nat  y-knowe. 
But  thilke  god,  that  made  wind  to  blovve, 
As  kepe  my  lord  I   this  my  conclusioun; 
To  clerkes  lete  I  al  disputisoun.  890 

But   wolde    god    that    alle    thise   rokkes 

blake 
W^ere  sonken  in-to  helle  for  his  sake! 
Thise  rokkes  sleen    myn   herte    for   the 

fere.' 
Thus  wolde  she  seyn,  with  many  a  pitous 

tere. 
Hir  freendes  sawe  that  it  was  no  dis- 
port 895 
To  romen  by  the  see,  but  disconfort; 
And    shopen    for    to    pleyen    somwher 

elles. 
They  leden  hir  by  riveres  and  by  welles, 
And  eek  in  othere  places  delitables; 
They  dauncen,  and  they  pleyen  at  ches 

and  tables.  900 

So  on  a  day,  right  in  the  morwe-tyde, 
Un-to  a  gardin  that  was  ther  bisyde. 
In  which  that  they  had  maad  hir  ordi- 

naunce 
Of  vitaille  and  of  other  purveyaunce. 


They  goon  and  pleye  hem  al  the  longe 

day.  905 

And  this  was  on  the  sixte  morwe  of  May, 
Which  May  had  peynted  with  his  softe 

shoures 
This  gardin  ful  of  leves  and  of  floures; 
And  craft  of  mannes  hand  so  curiously 
Arrayed  hadde  this  gartlin,  trewely,     910 
That    never   was   ther    gardin   of  swich 

prys, 
But-if  it  were  the  verray  paradys. 
The    odour   of   floures  and   the    fresshe 

sighte 
Wulde  han  maad  any  herte  for  to  lighte 
That  ever  was  born,  but-if  to  grct  sik- 

nesse,  915 

Or  to  gret  sorwe  helde  it  in  distrcsse; 
So  ful  it  was  of  beautee  with  plesaunce. 
At-aftcr  diner  gunne  they  to  daunce, 
And  singe  also,  save  Dorigen  allone. 
Which  made  alwey  hir  compleint  and  hir 

mone;  920 

For  she  ne  saugh  him  on  the  daunce  go, 
That   was   hir    housbonde   and    hir    love 

also. 
But  nathelees  she  moste  a  tyme  abyde, 
And  with  good  hope  lete  hir  sorwe  slyde. 
Up-on    this   daunce,   amonges   othere 

men,  925 

Daunced  a  squyer  biforen  Dorigen, 
That  fressher  was  and  lolyer  of  array. 
As  to  my  doom,  than  is  the  monthe  of 

May. 
He  singeth,  daunceth,  passinge  any  man 
That    is,    or    was,    sith    that    the    world 

bigan.  930 

Ther-with  he  was,   if   men    shokle    him 

discryve, 
Oon  of  the  beste  faringe  man  on-lyve; 
Vong,  strong,  right  vertuous,   and  riche 

and  wys, 
And    wel    biloved,    and    holden    in    gret 

prys. 
And  shortly,  if  the  sothe  I  tellen  shal, 
Unwiting  of  this  Dorigen  at  al,  936 

This  lusty  squyer,  servant  to  Venus, 
Which  that  y-cleped  was  Aurelius, 
Had  loved  hir  best  of  any  creature 
Two  yeer  and  more,  as  was  his  aventure, 
But  never  dorste  he  telle  hir  his  grev- 

aunce;  941 

With-outen  coppe  he  drank  al  his  pen- 

aunce. 


696 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[943-1015. 


He  was  despeyred,  no-thing  dorste  he 

seye, 
Save   in   his   songes  somwhat  wolde  he 

wreye 
His  wo,  as  in  a  general  conipleyning;  945 
He   seyde   he   lovede,  and  was   biloved 

no-thing. 
Of  swich  matere  made  he  manye  layes, 
Sunges,  compleintes,  roundels,  virelayes, 
How  that  he  dorste  nat  his  sorwe  telle, 
But    languissheth,    as    a    furie    dooth    in 

helle;  950 

And    dye    he   moste,  he  seyde,  as   dide 

Ekko 
For  Narcisus,  that  dorste   nat  telle   hir 

wo. 
In  other  manere  than  ye  here  me  seye, 
Ne  dorste  he  nat  to  hir  his  wo  bi wreye; 
Save    that,    paraventure,    som-tyme    at 

daunces,  955 

Ther  yonge  folk  kepen  hir  observaunces. 
It  may  wel  be  he  loked  on  hir  face 
In  swich  a  wyse,    as   man   that   asketh 

grace; 
But  no-thing  wiste  she  of  his  entente. 
Nathelees,   it    happed,   er    they    thennes 

wente,  960 

By-cause  that  he  was  hir  neighebour. 
And  was  a  man  of  worship  and  honour, 
And  hadde  y-knowen  him  of  tyme  yore, 
They  fille  in  speche;   and  forth  more  and 

more 
Un-to  his  purpos  drough  Aurelius,       965 
And  whan  he  saugh  his  tyme,  he  seyde 

thus: 
'  Madame,'  quod  he,  '  by  god  that  this 

world  made, 
So   that    I   wiste    it   mighte   your   herte 

glade, 
I  wolde,  that  day  that  your  Arveragus 
Wente  over  the  see,  that  I,  Aurelius,  970 
Had  went  ther  never  I  sholde  have  come 

agayn ; 
For  wel  I  woot  my  service  is  in  vayn. 
My    guerdon    is    but    bresting    of    myn 

herte; 
Madame,  reweth  upon  my  peynes  smerte; 
For  with  a  word  ye   may  me   sleen    or 

save,  975 

Heer  at  your  feet  god  wolde  that  I  were 

grave ! 
I  ne  have  as  now  no   leyser   more    to 

seye; 


Have   mercy,  swete,  or  ye  wol    do  me 

deye  ! ' 
She  gan  to  loke  up-on  Aurelius : 
'  Is  this  your  wil,'  quod  she,  '  and  sey  ye 

thus?  980 

Never  erst,'  quod  she,  '  ne  wiste  I  what 

ye  mente. 
But  now,  Aurelie,  I  knowe  your  entente. 
By  thilke  god  that  yaf  me  soule  and  lyf, 
Ne  shal  I  never  been  untrewe  wyf 
In    word    ne   werk,    as   fer   as    I    have 

wit :  985 

I  wol  ben  his  to  whom  that  I  am  knit; 
Tak  this  for  fynal  answer  as  of  me.' 
But  after  that  in  pley  thus  seyde  she : 
'  Aurelie,'  quod   she,  '  by  heighe  god 

above, 
Yet  wolde  I  graunte  yow  to  been  your 

love,  990 

Sin  I  yow  see  so  pitously  complayne; 
Loke  what  day  that,  endelong  Britayne, 
Ye  remoeve  alle  the  rokkes,  stoon  by  stoon, 
That  they  ne  lette  ship  ne  boot  to  goon  — 
I  seye,  whan  ye  han  maad  the  coost  so 

clene  995 

Of  rokkes,  that  ther  nis  no  stoon  y-sene, 

Than  wol  I  love  yow  best  of  any  man; 

Have  heer  my  trouthe  in  al  that  ever  I 

can.' 

'  Is  ther  non  other  grace  in  yow,'  quod 

he. 
'  No,  by  that   lord,'    quod   she,  '  that 

maked  me  !  1000 

For  wel  I  woot  that  it  shal  never  bityde. 
Lat  swiche  folies  out  of  your  herte  slyde. 
What  deyntee  sholde  a  man  han  in  his 

lyf 
For  to  go  love  another  mannes  wyf, 
That  hath  hir  body  whan  so    that   him 

lyketh?'  1005 

Aurelius  ful  ofte  sore  syketh; 
Wo  was  Aurelie,  whan  that  he  this  herde. 
And    with    a    sorweful    herte    he    thus 

answerde : 
'  Madame,'    quod    he,    *  this   were   an 

inpossible ! 
Than  moot  I  dye  of  sodein  deth  hor- 
rible.' lOIO 
And  with  that  word  he  turned  him  anoon. 
Tho  come  hir  othere  freendes  many  oon. 
And  in  the  aleyes  romeden  up  and  doun, 
And  no-thing  wiste  of  this  conclusioun, 
But  sodeinly  bigonne  revel  newe       1015 


ioi6-io86.] 


F.     THE   FRANKELEYNS   TALE. 


697 


Til  that  the  brighte  sonne  lostc-  his  hewe; 
Fur    thiirisuiUe   hath   reft  the  Sonne  his 

h^ht; 
This   is   as   niuche    to    seye    as    it   was 

night. 
And   hoom   they   goon    in  loye  and  in 

solas, 
Save  only  wrecche  Aurelius,  alias  !    1020 
He  to   his  hous    is   goon  with    sorweful 

herte; 
He   seeth    he    may   nat    fro     his    deeth 

asterte. 
Him  semed  that  he  felte  his  herte  colde; 
Up    to  the    hevene  his   handes  he  gan 

holde, 
And  on   his  knowes  bare  he  sette  him 

doun,  1025 

And  in  his  raving  seyde  his  orisoun. 
For  verray  wo  out  of  his  wit  he  breyde. 
He    niste    what   he   spak,    but   thus   he 

seyde; 
With    pitous  herte   his   pleynt   hath   he 

bigonne 
Un-to  the   goddes,  and    first  un-to    the 

Sonne :  1030 

He  seyde,   '  AppoUo,   god   and    gov- 

ernour 
Of  every  plaunte,  herbe,  tree  and  flour. 
That  yevest,  after  thy  declinacioun, 
To  ech  of  hem  his  tyme  and  his  sesoun, 
As    thyn   herberwe    chaungeth    lowe    or 

hye,  1035 

Lord  Phebus,  cast  thy  merciable  ye 
On  \Arecche  Aurelie,  which  that  am  but 

lorn. 
Lo,  lord  !  my  lady  hath  my  deeth  y-sworn 
With-oute  gilt,  but  thy  benignitee 
Upon  my  dedly  herte  have   som  pitee ! 
For    wel    I    woot,    lord    Phebus,  if  yow 

lest,  1041 

Ye  may  me  helpen,  save  my  lady,  best. 
Now   voucheth   sauf    that    I    may   yow 

devyse 
How  that  I  may  been  holpe  and  in  what 

wyse. 
Your  blisful  suster,  Lucina  the  shene. 
That  of  the  see  is   chief  goddesse  and 

quene,  1046 

Though   Neptunus    have    deitee   in   the 

see. 
Yet  emperesse  aboven  him  is  she : 
Ye    knowen  wel,  lord,  that  right  as  hir 

desyr 


Is  to  be  quiked   and  lightned    of  your 

fyr,  1050 

For  which  she  folweth  yow  ful  bisily. 
Right  so  the  see  desyreth  naturelly 
To  folwcn  hir,  as  she  that  is  goddesse 
ISothe  in  the  see  and  riveres  more  and 

lesse. 
Wherfore,  lord  Phebus,    this    is  my    re- 

queste —  1055 

Do  this  miracle,  or  do  myn  herte  breste  — 
That  now,  next  at  this  opposicioun. 
Which  in  the  signe  shal  be  of  the  Leuun, 
As  preycth  hir  so  greet  a  flood  to  bringe. 
That  fyve  fadme   at  the    leeste  it  over- 
springe  1060 
The  hyeste  rokke  in  Armorik  Priteyne; 
And  lat  this  flood  endure  yeres  tweyne ; 
Than  certes  to  my  lady  may  I  seye  : 
"  Holdeth  your  heste,  the   rokkes    been 

aweye." 
Lord   Phebus,  dooth  this  miracle  for 

me;  1065 

Preye  hir  she  go  no  faster  cours  than  ye; 
I  seye,  preyeth  your  suster  that  she  go 
No  faster  cours  than  ye  thise  yeres  two. 
Than  shal  she  been  evene  atte  fulle  alway, 
And  spring-flood  laste  bothe  night   and 

day.  1070 

And,    but   she    vouche-sauf    in    swiche 

manere 
To  graunte  me  my  sovereyn  lady  dere. 
Prey  hir  to  sinken  every  rok  adoun 
In-to  hir  owene  derke  regioun 
Under  the  ground,  ther  Pluto    dwelleth 

inne,  1075 

Or  never-mo  shal  I  my  lady  winne. 
Thy  temple  in   Delphos  wol  I  barefoot 

seke; 
Lord  Phebus,  see  the  teres  on  my  cheke, 
And   of  my   peyne   have   som   compas- 

sioun.' 
And    with  that  word    in   swowne  he  fil 

adoun,  1080 

And    longe    tyme    he    lay    forth    in    a 

traunce. 
His  brother,  which  that  knew  of  his 

penaunce, 
Up  caughte  him  and  to  bedde  he  hath 

him  liroght. 
Dispeyred  in  this  torment  and  this  thoght 
Lete  I  this  woful  creature  lye;  1085 

Chese  he  for  me,  whether  he  wol  live  or 

dye. 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1087-1167. 


Arveragus,  with  hele  and  greet  honour, 
As  he  that  was  of  chivalrye  the  flour, 
Is  comen  hoom,  and  othere  worthy  men. 
O  blisful  artow  now,  thou  Dorigen,    1090 
That  hast  thy  lusty  housbonde  in  thyne 

amies, 
The  fresshe  knight,  the  worthy  man  of 

armes, 
That  loveth  thee,  as  his  owene   hertes 

No-thing  list  him  to  been  imaginatyf 

If   any   wight   had   spoke,  whyl   he  was 

cute,  1095 

To   hire   of  love  ;     he   hadde   of  it   no 

doute. 
He  noght  entendeth  to  no  swich  matere. 
But  daunceth,  lusteth,  maketh  hir  good 

chere; 
And  thus  in  loye  and  blisse  I  lete  hem 

dwelle,  1099 

And  of  the  syke  Aurelius  wol  I  telle. 
In  langour  and  in  torment  furious 
Two  yeer  and  more  lay  wrecche  Aurelius, 
Er  any  foot  he  mighte  on  erthe  goon; 
Ne  confort  in  this  tyme  hadde  he  noon, 
Save  of   his  brother,   which  that  was  a 

clerk;  I105 

He  knew  of  al  this  wo  and  al  this  werk. 
For  to  non  other  creature  certeyn 
Of  this  matere  he  dorste  no  word  seyn. 
Under  his  brest  he  bar  it  more  secree 
Than  ever  dide  Pamphilus  for  Galathee. 
His  brest  was  hool,  with-oute  for  to  sene. 
But  in  his  herte  ay  was  the  arwe  kene. 
And  vvel  ye  knowe  that  of  a  sursanure 
In  surgerye  is  perilous  the  cure. 
But    men   mighte   touche    the   arwe,   or 

come  therby.  '"S 

His  brother  weep  and  wayled  prively, 
Til  atte  laste  him  hi  in  remembraunce. 
That  whyl  he  was  at  Orliens  in  P'raunce, 
As  yonge  clerkes,  that  been  likerous 
'I'o  reden  artes  that  been  curious,       II20 
Seken  in  every  halke  and  every  heme 
Particuler  v.'ences  for  to  lerne. 
He  him  remembred  that,  upon  a  day. 
At  Orliens  in  studie  a  book  he  say 
Of  magik  naturel,  which  his  felawe,  1125 
That  was  that  tyme  a  bacheler  of  lawe, 
Al  were  he  ther  to  lerne  another  craft. 
Had  prively  upon  his  desk  y-laft; 
Which  book  spak  muchel  of  the  opera- 

ciouns. 


ToucLinge  the  eighte  and  twenty  man- 

siouns  1 1 30 

That    longen    to    the    mone,    and    swich 

folye. 
As  in  our  dayes  is  nat  worth  a  flye; 
For  holy  chirches  feith  in  our  bileve 
Ne  suffreth  noon  illusion  us  to  greve. 
And  whan  this  book  was  in  his  remem- 
braunce, 1135 
Anon  for  loye  his  herte  gan  to  daunce. 
And  to  him-self  he  seyde  prively  : 
'  My  brother  shal  be  warisshed  hastily; 
Fur  I  am  siker  that  ther  be  sciences,  1 139 
By  whiche  men  make  diverse  apparences 
Swiche  as  thise  subtile  tregetoures  jjlcye. 
For  ofte  at  festes  have  I  wel  herd  seye, 
That  tregetours,  wilh-inne  an  halle  large, 
Have  maad  come  in  a  water  and  a  barge. 
And  in  the  halle  rowen  up  and  doun. 
Somtyme     hath    semed    come    a    grim 

leoun;  1146 

And   somtyme    floures   springe   as   in  a 

mede; 
Somtyme  a  vyne,  and  grapes  whyte  and 

rede; 
Somtyme  a  castel,  al  of  lym  and  stoon ; 
And  whan  hem  lyked,  voyded  it  anoon. 
Thus  semed  it  to  every  mannes  sighte. 
Now  than  conclude  I    thus,  that  if  I 

mighte  1152 

At  Orliens  som  old  felawe  y-finde, 
That    hadde    this    mones    mansions    in 

minde. 
Or  other  magik  naturel  above,  1155 

He  sholde  wel  make  my  brother  han  his 

love. 
For   with    an    apparence   a   clerk    may 

make 
To  mannes  sighte,  that  alle  the  rokkes 

blake 
Of  Britaigne  weren  y-voyded  everichon. 
And   shippes  by  the  brinke  comen  and 

gon,  1160 

And   in   swich  forme    endure  a  day  or 

two; 
Than  were  my  brother  warisshed  of  his 

wo. 
Than  moste  she  nedes  holden  hir  biheste. 
Or  elles  he  shal  shame  hir  atte  leste.' 
What  sholde  I  make  a  lenger  tale  of 

this?  1165 

Un-to  his  brotheres  bed  he  comen  is, 
And  swich  confort  he  yaf  him  for  to  gon 


:i08-i2j4 J 


1'".     THE    I'RANKKLKYNS   TALE, 


699 


To  Orliens,  that  he  up  stirte  anon, 

And  on  his  wey  furthward  thanne  is  he 

fare, 
In  hope  for  to  been  lissed  t)f  his  care. 
Whan  they  were  come  ahiiost  to  that 

citee,  1 171 

I5ut-if  it  were  a  two  furlong  or  three, 
A  yoiif^  clerk  rominge  by  him-self  they 

niette, 
Whicli  that  in  Latin  thriftily  hem  grette, 
And  after  that  he  seyde  a  wonder  thing : 
'  I  knovve,'  quod  he,  '  the  cause  of  your 

coming';  1 176 

And  er  they  ferther  any  fote  wente, 

He  tolde  hem  al  that  was  in  hir  entente. 

This  Briton  clerk  him  asked  of  felawes 

The  whiclie  that  he  had  knowe  in  olde 

dawes;  1 180 

And    he   answerde  him  that  they  dede 

were, 
For  which  he  weep  ful  ofte  many  a  tere. 
Doun    of    his     hors    Aurelius    lighte 

anon, 
And  forth  with  this  magicien  is  he  gon 
Hoom  to  his  hous,  and  made  hem  wel  at 

ese.  1 185 

Hem  lakked  no  vitaille  that  mighte  hem 

plcse; 
So  wel  arrayed  hous  as  ther  was  oon 
Aurelius  in  his  lyf  saugh  never  noon. 

He  shewed  him,  er  he  wente  to  sopeer, 
Forestes,  parkes  ful  of  wilde  deer;  1190 
Ther  saugh    he   hertes   with    hir    homes 

hye. 
The  gretteste  that  ever  were  seyn  with 

ye. 
He  saugh  of  hem  an  hondred  slayn  with 

bounties. 
And   somme  with  arwes  blede  of  bittre 

woundes. 
He  saugh,  whan  voided  were  thise  wilde 

deer,  1 195 

Thise  fauconers  upon  a  fair  river, 
That   with   hir    haukes    ban   the   heron 

slayn. 
Tho   saugh   he   knightes   lusting  in   a 

playn; 
And  after  this,   he  dide  him  swich  ple- 

saunce. 
That    he    him    shewed    his    lady   on    a 

daunce  I2CX5 

On  which  him-self  he  daunced,  as  him 

thoughte. 


And  whan  this  niaister,  that  this  magik 

wroughte, 
Saugh  it  was  tyme,  he  clapte  his  handes 

two. 
And  farewel !   al  our  revel  was  ago. 
Anil  yet  remoeved  they  never  out  of  the 

hous,  1 205 

Whyl  they  saugh  al  this  sighte  mcrvcil- 

lous, 
But  in  his  studie,  ther-as  his  bookcs  be, 
'i'hey  seten  stille,  and  no  wight  Ijut  tlicy 

three. 
To  him  this  maister  called  his  squyer, 
And    seyde    him    thus:     'is    redy    our 

soper?  1 2 10 

Almost  an  houre  it  is,  I  undertake, 
Sith  I  yow  bad  our  soper  for  to  make. 
Whan    that    thise    worthy    men    wenten 

with  me 
In-to  my  studie,  ther-as  my  bookes  be.' 
'  Sire,'  quod  this  squyer, '  whan  it  lyketh 

yow,  1215 

It  is  al  redy,  though  ye  wol  right  now.' 
'  Go  we  than  soupe,'  quod  he,  '  as  for  the 

beste ; 
This  amorous   folk  som-tyme  mote  han 

reste.' 
At-after  soper  fille  they  in  tretee, 
.What  somme  sholde  this  maistres  guer- 
I         don  be,  1220 

To  remoeven  alle  the  rokkes  of  Britayne, 
And  eek  from  Gerounde  to  the  mouth  of 

Sayne. 
He  made  it  straunge,  and  swoor,  so 

god  him  save, 
Lasse  than  a  thousand  pound  he  wolde 

nat  have, 
Ne  gladly  for  that  somme  he  wolde  nat 

goon.  1225 

Aurelius,  with  blisful  herte  anooii, 
Answerde  thus, '  fy  on  a  thousand  pound  ! 
This  wyde  world,  which  that  men  seye  is 

round, 
I  wolde  it  yeve,  if  I  were  lord  of  it. 
This    bargayn   is   ful    drive,   for   we   ben 

knit.  1230 

Ye  shal  be  payed  trewely,  by  my  trouthe  ! 
But   loketh    now,   for    no    necligence   or 

slouthe, 
Ye    tarie    us    heer    no    lenger    than   to- 

morwe.' 
'  Nay,'   quod   this  clerk,   '  have  heer  my 

feith  to  borwe.' 


700 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1235-1314. 


To  bedde  is  goon  Aurelius  whan  him 

leste,  1235 

And  wel  ny  al  that  night  he  hadde  his 

reste ; 
What  fur   his   labour   and   his   hope   of 

bhsse, 
His   woful    herte  of  penaunce  hadde  a 

lisse. 
Upon  the  morwe,  whan  that  it  was  day, 
To  Britaigne  toke  they  the  righte  way, 
Aurelius,  and  this  niagicien  bisyde,    1241 
And    been    descended   ther   they  wolde 

abyde; 
And  this  was,  as  the  bokes  me  remembre. 
The  colde  frosty  seson  of  Decembre. 

Phebus  wex  old,  and  hewed  lyk  latoun, 
That  in  his  bote  declinacioun  1246 

Shoon  as  the  burned  gold  with  stremes 

brighte; 
But  now  in  Capricorn  adoun  he  lighte, 
Wher-as   he   shoon  ful   pale,  I  dar  wel 

seyn.  1249 

The  bittre  frostes,  with  the  sleet  and  reyn, 
Destroyed  hath  the  grene  in  every  yerd. 
lanus  sit  by  the  fyr,  with  double  herd. 
And  drinketh  of  his  bugle-horn  the  wyn. 
Biforn    him   slant  braun  of  the   tusked 

swyn, 
And  "  Nowel "  cryeth  every  lusty  man.  v 
Aurelius,  in  al  that  ever  he  can,  lii^  ' 
Doth  to  his  maister  chere  and  reverence. 
And  preyeth  him  to  doon  his  diligence 
To  bringen  him  out  of  his  peynes  smerte. 
Or  with  a  swerd  that  he  wolde  slitte  his 

herte.  1260 

This  subtil  clerk  swich  routhe  had  of 

this  man. 
That  night  and  day  he  spedde  him  that 

he  can, 
To  wayte  a  tyme  of  his  conclusioun; 
This  is  to  seye,  to  make  illusioun. 
By  swich  an  apparence  or  logelrye,  1265 
I  ne  can  no  termes  of  astrologye. 
That  she  and  every  wight  sholde  wene 

and  seye. 
That  of  Britaigne  the  rokkes  were  aweye. 
Or  elles  they  were  sonken  under  grounde. 
So  atte  laste  he  hath  his  tyme  y-founde 
To  maken  his  lapes  and  his  wrecched- 
nesse  1271 

Of  swich  a  supersticious  cursednesse. 
His  tables  Toletanes  forth  he  broght, 
Ful  wel  corrected,  ne  ther  lakked  noght, 


Neither  his  collect  ne  his  expans  ycres, 
Ne  his  rotes  ne  his  othere  geres,        1276 
As  been  his  centres  and  his  arguments, 
And  his  proporcionels  convenients 
For  his  equacions  in  every  thing. 
And,  by  his  eighte  spere  in  his  wirking, 
He   knew  ful   wel   how   fer   Alnath   was 

shove  1281 

Fro  the  heed  of  thilke  fixe  Aries  above 
That  in  the  ninthe  speere  considered  is; 
Ful  subtilly  he  calculed  al  this. 

Whan  he  had  founde  his  firste  man- 

sioun,  1285 

He  knew  the  remenant  by  proporcioun; 
And  knew  the  arysing  of  his  mone  weel, 
And  in  whos  face,  and  terme,  and  every- 

deel; 
And  knew  ful  weel  the  mones  mansioun 
Acordaunt  to  his  operacioun,  1290 

And  knew  also  his  othere  observaunces 
For   swiche  illusiouns  and  swiche  mes- 

chaunces 
As  hethen  folk  used  in  thilke  dayes; 
For  which  no  lenger  maked  he  delayes. 
But    thurgh    his    magik,  for    a   wyke    or 

tweye,  1295 

It    semed    that    alle     the    rokkes    were 

aweye. 

Aurelius,  which  that  yet  despeired  is 

Wher  he  shal  han  his  love  or  fare  amis, 

Awaiteth  night  and  day  on  this  miracle; 

And  whan  he  knew  that  ther  was  noon 

obstacle,  1300 

That  voided  were  thise  rokkes  everichun, 
Doun  to  his  maistres  feet  he  HI  anon, 
And  seyde,  '  I  woful  wrecche,  Aurelius, 
Thanke  yow,  lord,  and  lady  myn  Venus, 
That  me  han  holpen  fro  my  cares  colde  :  ' 
And  to  the  temple  his  wey  forth  hath  he 

holde,  1306 

Wher-as  he  knew  he  sholde  his  lady  see. 
And  whan  he  saugh  his  time,  anon-right 

he. 
With  dredful  herte  and  with  ful  humble 

chere, 
Salewed  hath  his  sovereyn  lady  dere : 
'  My    righte    lady,'    quod    this    woful 

man,  131 1 

'  Whom  I  most  drede  and  love  as  I  best 

can. 
And  lothest  were  of  al  this  world  dis- 

plese, 
Nere  it  that  I  for  yow  have  swich  disese. 


I3I5-I392.] 


F.     THE   FRANKELEYNS  TALE. 


701 


That   I   moste   dyen   heer  at   your  foot 
anon,  1315 

Noght  vvokle  I  telle  how  me  is  wo  higon; 
But  certes  oulher  moste  I  dye  or  pleyne; 
Ye  slee  me  giltclees  for  verray  peyne. 
But  of  my  decth,  thogh  tliat  ye  have  no 

routhe, 
Avyseth    yow,    er   that    ye    breke    your 

trouthe.  1320 

Repenteth  yow,  for  thilke  god  above, 
Er  ye  me  sleen  by-causo  that  I  yow  love, 
r'ur,  madame,  wel  ye  woot  what  ye  han 

hight; 
Nat  that  I  chalange  any  thing  of  right  1324 
Of  yow  my  sovereyn  lady,  but  your  grace; 
But  in  a  gardin  yond,  at  swich  a  place. 
Ye  woot  right  wel  what  ye  bihighten  me; 
And  in  myn  hand  your  trouthe  plighten  ye 
To  love  me  best,  god  woot,  ye  seyde  so, 
Al  be  that  I  unworthy  be  therto.        1330 
Madame,  I    speke  it  for  the  honour  of 

yow. 
More  than  to  save  myn  hertes  lyf  right 

now; 
I  have  do  so  as  ye  comanded  me; 
And  if  ye  vouche-sauf,  ye  may  go  see. 
Doth  as  yow  list,  have  your  biheste  in 

minde,  1335 

For  quik  or  deed,  right  ther  ye  shul  me 

tinde; 
In  yow  lyth  al,  to  do  me  live  or  deye;  — 
But  wel  I  woot  the  rokkes  been  aweye  !  ' 
He  taketh  his  leve,  and  she  astonied 

stood. 
In  al  hir  face  nas  a  drope  of  blood;  1340 
She  wende  never  han  come  in  swich  a 

trappe : 
'  Alas ! '  quod  she,  '  that  ever  this  sholde 

happe ! 
For  wende  I  never,  by  possibilitee. 
That  swich  a  monstre  or  merveille  mighte 

be! 
It  is  agayns  the  proces  of  nature ' :     1345 
And  hoom  she  gooth  a  sorweful  creature. 
¥oT  verray  fere  unnethe  may  she  go. 
She  wepeth,  wailleth,  al  a  day  or  two. 
And   swowneth,  that   it   routhe   was   to 

see;  1349 

But  why  it  was,  to  no  wight  tolde  she; 
For  out  of  toune  was  goon  Arveragus. 
But  to  hir-self  she  spak,  and  seyde  thus, 
With  face  pale  and  with  ful  sorweful  chcre. 
In  hir  compleynt,  as  ye  shul  after  here: 


'  Alias,'  quod  she,  *  on  thee,  Fortune, 

I  pleyne,  1355 

That    unwar   wrapped    hast    me   in    thy 

cheyne; 
For  which,  tescape,  woot  I  no  socour 
Save  only  deeth  or  elles  dishonour; 
Oon  of  thise  two  bihovcth  me  to  chese. 
But  nathelees,  yet  have  I  lever  to  lese  1360 
My  lyf  than  of  my  body  have  a  shame, 
Or  knowe  my-selven  fals,  or  lese  my  name. 
And  with  my  deth  I  may  be  quit,  y-wis. 
Hath  thcr  nat  many  a  noble  wyf,  er  this. 
And  many  a  mayde  y-slayn  hir-sclf,  alias  ! 
Rather  than  with  hir  body  doon  treSjias? 
Yis,  certes,  lo,  thise  stories  beren  wit- 

nesse; 
Whan   thretty   tyraunts,    ful   of   cursed- 

nesse. 
Had    slayn    Phidoun    in    Athenes,    atte 

feste,  1369 

They  comanded  his  doghtres  for  tareste. 
And  Ijringen  hem  biforn  hem  in  despyt, 
Al  naked,  to  fulfiUe  hir  foul  delyt. 
And  in  hir  fadres  blood  they  made  hem 

daunce 
Upon  the  pavement,  god  yeve  hem  mis- 

chaunce ! 
For  which    thise  woful  maydens,   ful  of 

drede,  '375 

Rather  than  they  wolde  lese  hir  mayden- 

hede, 
They  prively  ben  stirt  in-to  a  welle. 
And  dreynte  hem-selven,  as  the  bokes 

telle. 
They   of  Messene    lete    enquere   and 

seke 
Of  Lacedomie  fifty  maydens  eke,       1380 
On  whiche  they  wolden  doon  hir  lech- 

erye; 
But  was  there  noon  of  al  that  companye 
That  she  nas   slayn,  and   with   a   good 

entente 
Chees  rather  for  to  dye  than  assente 
To    been    oppressed    of    hir    mayden- 

hede.  13CS5 

Why  sholde  I    thanne   to  dye    been   in 

drede? 
Lo,  eek,  the  tiraunt  Aristoclides 
That  loved  a  mayden,  heet  Stimphalides, 
Whan  that  hir  fader  slayn  was  on  a  night, 
Un-to  Dianes  temple  gnth  she  right,  1390 
And  hente  the  image  in  hir  handes  two. 
Fro  which  image  wolde  she  never  go. 


702 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[ I 393-1466. 


No   wight   ne    mighte   hir   handes    of    it 

arace, 
Til  she  was  slayn  right  in  the  selve  place. 
Now  sith    that    maydens   hadden  swich 

despyt  1395 

To    been    defouled    with    mannes    foul 

delyt, 
Wei  oghte  a  wyf  rather  hir-selven  slee 
Than  1)6  defouled,  as  it  thinketh  me. 

What  shal  I  seyn  of  Hasdrubales  wyf, 
That     at    Cartage     birafte    hir-self    hir 

lyf  ?  1400 

For  whan  she  saugh  that  Romayns  wan 

the  toun, 
She  took  hir  children    alle,  and    skipte 

adoun 
In-to  the  fyr,  and  chees  rather  to  dye 
Than  any  Romayn  dide  hir  vileinye. 
Hath    nat    Lucresse    y-slayn    hir-self, 

alias!  1405 

At  Rome,  whanne  she  oppressed  was 
Of   Tarquin,   for  hir  thoughte    it  was    a 

shame 
To  liven  whan  she  hadde  lost  hir  name? 

The  sevene  maydens  of  Milesie  also 
Han  slayn  hem-self,  for  verray  drede  and 

wo,  14 10 

Rather   than  folk  of  Gaule  hem  sholde 

oppresse. 
Mo  than  a  thousand  stories,  as  I  gesse, 
Coude    I    now    telle    as    touchinge    this 

matere. 
Whan  Habradate  was  slayn,  his  wyf  so 

dere 
Hirselven    slow,  and    leet    hir  blood   to 

glyde  14 1 5 

In  Habradates  woundes  depe  and  wyde. 

And  seyde,  "  my  body,  at  the  leeste  way, 

Ther  shal  no  wight  defoulen,  if  I  may." 

What  sholde  I  mo  ensamples  heer-of 

sayn, 
Sith     that    so    manye    han    hem-selven 

slayn  1420 

Wei  rather  than  they  wolde  defoflled  be? 
I  wol  conclude,  that  it  is  bet  for  me 
To   sleen    my-self,    than    been  defouled 

thus. 
I  wol  be  trewe  un-to  Arveragus, 
Or  rather  sleen  my-self  in  som  manere, 
As  dide  Demociones  doghter  dere,    1426 
By-cause  that  she  wolde  nat  defouled  be. 

O  Cedasus !   it  is  ful  greet  pitee, 
To  reden  how  thy  doghtren  deyde,  alias ! 


That  slowe  hem-selven   for  swich  maner 
cas.  1430 

As  greet  a  pitee  was  it,  or  wel  more. 
The  Theban  mayden,  that  for  Nichanore 
Hir-selven    slow,  right   for  swich  maner 
wo. 
Another  Theban  mayden  dide  right  so; 
For  oon  of   Macedoine   hadde   hir   op- 
pressed, 1435 
She  with  hir  deeth  hir  maydenhede  re- 
dressed. 
What  shal  I  seye  of  Nicerates  wyf, 
That    for  swich    cas    birafte  hir-self   hir 
lyf? 
How  trewe  eek  was  to  Alcebiades 
His    love,     that     rather     for     to     dyen 
chees  1440 
Than  for  to  suffre  his  body  unburied  be ! 
Lo  which  a  wyf  was  Alceste,'  quod  she. 

'  What  seith  Omer  of  gode  Penalopee? 
Al  Grece  knoweth  of  hir  chastitee. 

Pardee,      of     Laodomya     is     writen 

thus,  '445 

That  whan  at  Troye  was  slayn  Prothese- 

laus, 
No  lenger  wolde  she  live  after  his  day. 
The   same    of   noble    Porcia    telle    I 
may; 
With-oute  Brutus  coude  she  nat  live, 
To  whom  she  hadde  al    hool   hir  herte 
yive.  1450 

The  parfit  wyfhod  of  Arthemesye 
Honoured  is  thurgh  al  the  Harliarye. 

O  Teuta,  queen  !   thy  wyfly  chastitee 
To  alle  wyves  may  a  mirour  be. 
The  same  thing  I  seye  of  Bilia,  1455 

Of  Rodogone,  and  eek  Valeria.' 

Thus  pleyned  Dorigene  a  day  or  tvveye, 
Purposinge  ever  that  she  wolde  deye. 

But  nathelees,  upon  the  thridde  night, 

Hom      cam      Arveragus,      this     worthy 

knight,  1460 

And  asked    hir,  why  that  she  weep  so 

sore? 
And    she    gan    wepen    ever    lenger   the 
more. 
'  Alias  ! '  quod   she,  '  that  ever  was  I 
born  ! 
Thus  have  I  seyd,'  quod  she,  '  thus  liave 

I  sworn  '  — 
And    told    him    al    as  ye    han    herd    hi 
fore;  i  ;    j 

It  nedeth  nat  reherce  it  yow  na  111  a-  . 


1467-1537-] 


F.    THE   FRANKELEYNS  TALE. 


703 


This    housbond   with    glad    chere,    in 

freendly  vvyse, 
Answerde  and  seyde  as  I  shal  yow  de- 

vyse  : 
'  Is  ther  oght  elles,  Dorigen,  but  this?' 
'  Nay,  nay,'  (juod  she, '  god  help  me  so, 

as  wis;  1470 

This  is  to  muche,  and    it  were  goddes 

wille.' 
'  \'e,  wyf,'  ([uod  he,  '  lat  slepen   that  is 

stillc; 
It  may  be  wel,  paraventure,  yet  to-day. 
Ye  shul  your  trouthc  holdcn,  by  my  fay ! 
For  god  so  wisly  have  mercy  on  me,  1475 
I  hadde  wel  lever  y-stiked  for  to  be. 
For  verray  love   which    that    I    to   yow 

have, 
But-if  ye  sholde  your  trouthe  kepe  and 

save. 
Trouthe  is  the  hyeste  thing  that  man  may 

kepe ' : — 
But  with   that  word    he    brast    anon  to 

wepe,  1480 

And  seyde,  '  I  yow  forbede,  up  peyne  of 

deeth. 
That    never,    whyl    thee    lasteth    lyf    ne 

breeth. 
To  no  wighl  tel  thou  of  this  aventure. 
As  I  may  best,  I  wol  my  wo  endure, 
Ne     make     no     contenance     of     hevi- 

nesse,  1485 

That   folk  of  yow  may  demen  harm  or 

gesse.' 
And   forth  he  cleped  a  squyer  and  a 

maytle : 
'  Goth    forth    anon    with    Dorigen,'    he 

sayde, 
'  And    bringeth    hir    to    swich    a    place 

anon.' 
They  take  hir  leve,  and  on  hir  wey  they 

gon;  1490 

But  they  ne  wiste  why  she  thider  wente. 
He  nolde  no  wight  tellen  his  entente. 
Paraventure  an  heep  of  yow,  y-wis, 
Wol  holden  him  a  lewed  man  in  this. 
That   he   wol    putte    his   wyf  in   lupar- 

tye;  1495 

Herkneth  the  tale,  cr  ye  up-on  hir  crye. 
She  may  have   bettre  fortune  than  yow 

semeth; 
And  whan  that  ye    han    herd    the    tale, 

demcth. 
This  squyer,  which  that  highte  Aurclius, 


On  Dorigen  that  was  so  amorous,      1500 
Of  aventure  happed  hir  to  mete 
Amidde  the  toun,  right  in  the  quikkest 

strete. 
As  she  was  boun  to  goon  the  wey  forth- 
right 
Toward  the  gardin  ther-as  she  had  hight. 
And  he  was  to  the  gardinward  also;   1505 
For  wel  he  spyed,  whan  she  wolde  go 
( )ut  of  hir  hous  to  any  maner  place. 
But    thus    they   mette,   of    aventure    or 

grace; 
And  he  saleweth  hir  with  glad  entente, 
And     aske'd     of     hir     whiderward     she 

wente?  15 10 

And  she  answerde,  half  as   she  were 

mad, 
'  Un-to  the  gardin,  as  myn  housbond  bad. 
My  trouthe  for  to  holde,  alias  !   alias  !  ' 

Aurelius  gan  wondren  on  this  cas. 
And  in  his  herte  had  greet  compassioun 
Of  hir  and  of  hir  lamentacioun,  15 16 

And  of  Arveragus,  the  worthy  knight. 
That  bad    hir   holden    al   that   she   had 

hight. 
So  looth  him  was  his  wyf  sholde  breke 

hir  trouthe; 
And  in  his  herte  he  caughte  of  this  greet 

routhe,  1520 

Consideringe  the  beste  on  every  syde. 
That   fro  his   lust    yet   were    him   lever 

abyde 
Than  doon  so  heigh  a  cherlish  wrecched- 

nesse 
Agayns  franchyse  and  alle  gentillesse; 
For  which  in  fewe  wordes  seyde  he  thus  : 
'  Madame,  seyth  to  your  lord  Arvera- 
gus, 1526 
That  sith  I  see  his  grete  gentillesse 
To  yow,  and  eek  I  see  wel  your  distresse, 
That    him  were  lever    han    shame    (and 

that  were  routhe) 
Than  ye  to  me  sholde  breke  thus   your 

trouthe,  1530 

I  have  wel  lever  ever  to  suffre  wo 
Than  I  departe  the  love  bitwix  yow  two. 
I  yow  relesse,  madame,  in-to  your  bond 
Quit  every  surement  and  every  bond. 
That  ye  han  maad  to  me  as  heer-liiforn, 
Sith    thilke   tyme   which    that    ye    wore 

born.  1536 

My  trouthe  I  plighte,  I   shal  yow  never 

repreve 


704 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1538-1616. 


Of  no  biheste,  and  here  I  take  my  leva, 
As  of  the  treweste  and  the  beste  wyf 
That  ever  yet  I  knew  in  al  my  lyf.     1540 
But  every  wyf  be-war  of  hir  biheste. 
On  Dorigene  remembreth  atte  leste. 
Thus  can  a  squyer  doon  a  gentil  dede, 
As   well    as    can    a    knight,    with-outen 

drede.' 
She  thonketh  him  up-on  hir  knees  al 

bare,  _  1545 

And  hoom  un-to  hir  housbond  is  she  fare. 
And  tolde  him  al  as   ye   han   herd   me 

sayd; 
And  be  ye  siker,  he  was  so  v/eel  apayd, 
That  it  were  inpossible  me  to  wryte; 
What  sholde  I  lenger  of  this  cas  endyte? 
Arveragus  and  Dorigene  his  wyf    1551 
In  sovereyn  blisse  leden  forth  hir  lyf. 
Never   eft   ne  was  ther  angre    hem   bi- 

twene; 
He  cherisseth  hir  as  though  she  were  a 

quene;  1554 

And  she  was  to  him  trewe  for  evermore. 
Of  thise  two  folk  ye  gate  of  me  na-more. 

Aurelius,  that  his  cost  hath  al  forlorn, 
Curseth  the  tyme  that  ever  ha  was  born  : 
'  Alias,'  quod  he,  '  alias  !   that  I  bihighte 
Of    pured    gold    a    thousand    pound    of 

wighte  1560 

Un-to  this  philosophre !  how  shal  I  do? 
I  see  na-more  but  that  I  am  fordo. 
Myn  heritage  moot  I  nades  sella, 
And  been    a   begger;    heer   may   I    nat 

dwelle. 
And    shamen    al    my    kinrede    in    this 

place,  1565 

But  I  of  him  may  gete  battre  grace. 
But  nathelees,  I  wol  of  him  assaye, 
At  certeyn  dayes,  year  by  year,  to  paye, 
And  thanke  him  of  his  grete  curteisye; 
My  trouthe  wol  I  kepe,  I  wol  nat  lye.' 
With    herte   soor   he  gooth  un-to  his 

cofre,  1571 

And  broghte  gold  un-to  this  philosophre, 
The    value    of  fyve   hundred   pound,    1 

gasse, 
And  him  bisecheth,  of  his  gantillasse, 
To  graunte  him  dayes  of  the  remenaunt. 
And    seyde,    '  maister,   I    dar    wel  make 

avaunt,  '57^ 

I  failled  never  of  my  trouthe  as  yit; 
P"or  sikerly  my  dette  shal  be  quit 
Towardes  yow,  how-ever  that  I  fare 


To  goon  a-begged  in  my  kirtle  bare.  1580 
But  wolde  ye  vouche-sauf,  up-on  seurtee, 
Two  year  or  three  for  to  respyten  me, 
Than  were  I  wel;    for  elles  moot  I  selle 
Myn  heritage;   ther  is  na-more  to  telle.' 

This  philosophre  sobrely  answerde, 
And    seyde  thus,  whan  he  thise  wordes 

herde:  1586 

'  Have    I    nat    holden    covenant    un-to 

thee?' 
*  Yes,  cartas,  wel  and  trewely,'  quod  ha. 
'  Hastow    nat    had    thy    lady    as     thee 

lyketh?' 
'  No,    no,'    quod   he,   and   sorwefully  he 

syketh.  1 590 

'What  was  the  cause?   tel  me  if  thou 

can.' 
Aurelius  his  tale  anon  bigan, 
And  tolde  him  al,  as  ya  han  herd  bifore; 
It  nadeth  nat  to  yow  raharce  it  more. 

He  seide,  '  Arveragus,  of  gentillesse, 
Had    lever    dye    in    sorwe   and  in    dis- 

tresse  1596 

Than  that  his  wyf  were  of  hir    trouthe 

fals.' 
The   sorwe   of    Dorigen    he    tolde    him 

als, 
How  looth   hir  was  to    been  a   wikked 

wyf, 
And  that  she  lever  had  lost  that  day  hir 

lyf,  1600 

And  that  hir  trouthe  she  swoor,  thurgh 

innocence : 
'  She  never  erst  herde  speke  of  appar- 

ence; 
That  made  me  han  of  hir  so  greet  pitee. 
And  right  as  frely  as  he  sente  hir  me. 
As  frely  sente  I  hir  to  him  ageyn.      1605 
This   al   and    som,    ther   is   na-more   to 

seyn.' 
This     philosophre     answerde,     '  leve 

brother, 
Everich  of  yow  dide  gentilly  til  other. 
Thou  art  a  squyer,  and  he  is  a  knight; 
But  god  forbede,  for  his  blisful  miglit,  16 10 
But-if  a  clerk  coude  doon  a  gentil  dede 
As  wel  as  any  of  yow,  it  is  no  drede  ! 

Sire,  I  relesse  thee  thy  thousand  pound. 
As  thou  right  now  were   cropen   out    of 

the  ground, 
Ne  never   er   now   ne    haddest  knowen 

me.  1615 

For  sire,  I  wol  nat  take  a  peny  of  thee 


1617-1624.     I-43-] 


G.     THE  SECONDE  NONNES  TALE. 


70s 


For    al  my  craft,  ne  noght  for   my  tra- 

vaille. 
Thou  hast  y-payed  wel  for  my  vitaillc; 
It  is  y-nogh,  and  farewel,  have  good  day  :  ' 
And  took  his  hors,  and  forth  he  gooth 

his  way.  1620 


T.ordinges,  this  question  wolde  I  aske 
now, 
Wiiich  was  the  moste  free,  as  thinkcth 

yow  ? 
Now  tellcth  me,  er  that  ye  ferther  wende. 
I  can  na-more,  my  tale  is  at  an  ende. 


Here  is  ended  the  Frankeleyns  Tale. 


GROUP  G. 


THE  SECONDE   NONNES  TALE. 


The  Prologe  of  the  Seconde 
NoNNES  Tale. 

The  ministre  and  the  norice  un-to  vyces. 
Which  that  men  clepe  in  English  ydel- 

nesse, 
That  porter  of  the  gate  is  of  delyces, 
To  eschue,  and  by  hir  contrarie  hir  op- 

presse. 
That  is  to  seyn,  by  leveful  bisinesse,        5 
Wel  oghten  we  to  doon  al  our  entente. 
Lest  that  the  feend  thurgh  ydelnesse  us 

hente. 

For  he,  that  with    his  thousand    cordes 

slye 
Continuelly  us  waiteth  to  biclappe, 
Whan  he  may  man  in  ydelnesse  espye,  10 
He   can   so    lightly   cacche    him   in    his 

trappe, 
Til    that   a    man  be   hent    right   by  the 

lappe. 
He  nis  nat  war  the  feend    hath  him  in 

honde; 
Wel  oughte  us  werche,  and  ydelnes  with- 

stonde. 

And    though  men  dradden  never  for  to 
dye,  15 

Yet  seen  men  wel  by  reson  doutelees. 
That  ydelnesse  is  roten  slogardye. 
Of  which  ther  never  comth  no  good  en- 

crees; 
And  seen,  that  slouthe  hir  holdeth  in  a 

lees 
Only  to  slepe,  and  for  to  ete  and  drinke, 
And  to  devouren  al  that  othere  swinke.  21 


And  for  to  putte  us  fro  swiche  ydelnesse, 
That  cause  is  of  so  greet  confusioun, 
I  have  heer  doon  my  feithful  bisinesse. 
After  the  legende,  in  translacioun  25 

Right  of  thy  glorious  lyf  and  passioun, 
Thou  with    thy  gerland  wroght   of   rose 

and  lilie; 
Thee  mene  I,   mayde  and  martir,  seint 

Cecilie ! 

Inuocacio  ad  Mariatn, 

And  thou  that  flour  of  virgines  art  alle. 
Of  whom  that  Bernard  list  so  wel  to  wryte, 
To  thee  at  my  biginning  first  I  calle;     31 
Thou  comfort  of  us  wrecches,  do  me  en- 

dyte 
Thy  maydens  deeth,  that  wan  thurgh  hir 

meryte 
The  eternal  lyf,  and  of  the  feend  victorie. 
As  man  may  after  redem  in  hir  storie.  35 

Thou  mayde  and  mooder,  doghter  of  thy 
sone, 

Thou  vvelle  of  mercy,  sinful  soules  cure, 

In  whom  that  god,  for  bountee,  chees  to 
wone, 

Thou  humble,  and  heigh  over  every  crea- 
ture. 

Thou  nobledest  so  ferforth  our  nature,  40 

That  no  desdeyn  the  maker  hailde  of 
kinde. 

His  sone  in  blode  and  flesh  to  clothe  and 
winde. 


Withinne    the    cloistre    blisful 
sydes 


of    thy 


7o6 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[44-112. 


Took  mannes  shap  the  eternal  love  and 

pees, 
That  of  the  tryne  compas  lord  and  gyde 

is,  45 

Whom  erthe  and  see  and  heven,  out  of 

relees, 
Ay  herien;   and  thou,  virgin  wemmelees, 
Bar  of  thy  body,  and  dweltest  mayden 

pure. 
The  creatour  of  every  creature. 

Assembled  is  in  thee  magnificence         50 
With  mercy,  goodnesse,  and  with  swich 

pitee 
That  thou,  that  art  the  sonne  of  excel- 
lence, 
Nat  only  helpest  hem  that  preyen  thee, 
But  ofte  tyme,  of  thy  benignitee, 
Ful    frely,    er   that    men   thyn   help   bi- 
seche,  55 

Thou  goost  biforn,  and  art  hir  lyves  leche. 

Now  help,  thou  meke  and  blisful  fayre 

mayde. 
Me,  flemed  wrecche,  in   this   desert   of 

galle; 
Think   on    the  womman   Cananee,  that 

sayde 
That  whelpes  eten  somme  of  the  crommes 

alle  60 

That  from  hir  lordes  table  been  y-falle; 
And    though    that   I,   unworthy   sone   of 

Eve, 
Be  sinful,  yet  accepte  my  bileve. 

And,  for   that   feith  is  deed  with-outen 

werkes, 
So  for  to  werken  yif  me  wit  and  space,  65 
That  I  be  quit  fro  thennes  that  most  derk 

is! 
O  thou,  that  art  so  fayr  and  ful  of  grace, 
Be  myn  advocat  in  that  heighe  place 
Ther-as  withouten  ende  is  songe '  Osanne,' 
Thou   Cristes   mooder,  doghter   dere   of 

Anne !  70 

And  of  thy  light  my  soule  in  prison  lighte, 
That  troubled  is  by  the  contagioun 
Of  my  body,  and  also  by  the  wighte 
Of  erthly  luste  and  fals  aflfeccioun; 
O  haven  of  refut,  o  salvacioun  75 

Of  hem  that  ben  in  sorwe  and  in  distresse, 
Now  help,  for  to  my  werk  I  wol  me  dresse. 


Yet  preye  I  yow  that  reden  that  I  wryte, 
Foryeve  me,  that  I  do  no  diligence 
This  ilke  storie  subtilly  to  endyte;  80 

For  both  have  1  the  wordes  and  sentence 
Of  him  that  at  the  seintes  reverence 
The  storie  wroot,  and  folwe  hir  legende. 
And   prey   yow,    that   ye  wol    my  werk 
amende. 

Interpretacio  nomitiis  Cecilie,  quatn ponit 
frater  Jacobus  lanuensis  in  Legenda 
Aurea. 

First  wolde  I  yow  the  name  of  seint  Ce- 
cilie 85 
Expoune,  as  men  may  in  hir  storie  see. 
It  is  to  seye  in  English  '  hevenes  lilie,' 
For  pure  chastnesse  of  virginitee; 
Or,  for  she  whytnesse  hadde  of  honestee. 
And  grene  of  conscience,  and  of  good 
fame  90 
The  sote  savour,  '  lilie '  was  hir  name. 

Or  Cecile  is  to  seye  '  the  wey  to  blinde,' 
For  she  ensample  was  by  good  techinge; 
Or  elles  Cecile,  as  I  writen  finde. 
Is  ioyned,  by  a  maner  conioininge         95 
Of  '  hevene  '  and  '  Lia ' ;   and  heer,  in  fig- 

uringe. 
The  '  heven  '  is  set  for  thoght  of  holinesse, 
And  '  Lia '  for  hir  lasting  bisinesse. 

Cecile  may  eek  be  seyd  in  this  manere, 
'  Wanting    of   blindnesse,'  for    hir    grete 

hght  100 

Of  sapience,  and  for  hir  thewes  clere; 
Or  elles,  lo !  this  maydens  name  bright 
Of 'hevene'  and  'leos'  comth,  for  which 

by  right 
Men  mighte  hir  wel '  the  heven  of  peple ' 

calle, 
Ensample    of    gode    and    wyse    werkes 

alle.  105 

For  '  leos '  '  peple  '  in  English  is  to  seye, 
And  right  as  men  may  in  the  hevene  see 
The  Sonne  and  mone  and  sterres  every 

weye, 
Right  so  men  gostly,  in  this  mayden  free, 
Seyen  of  feith  the  magnanimitee,  no 

And  eek  the  cleernesse  hool  of  sapience, 
And    sondry   werkes,    brighte    of   excel- 
lence. 


1 13-^79-] 


G.   tup:  secondp:  nonnes  tale. 


707 


And  rijjht  so  as  thise  philosophres  wryte 
That  licven  is  swift  and  ruuiid  and  eek 

hrenninge,  II4 

Right  so  was  fayre  Cecilie  the  whytc 
Ful  swift  and  bisy  ever  in  good  werkinge, 
And  rountl  and  hool  in  good  persever- 

inge, 
And     hrcnning     ever     in     charitee     ful 

brighte; 
Now    have    I    yow    declared    what    she 

highte. 

Explicit. 


Here  biginneth  the  Seconde  Nonnes 
Tai.e,  ok  the  Lyf  of  Seinte  Cecile. 

This  mayden  bright  Cecilie,  as  hir  !yf 

seith,  120 

Was  conien  of   Romayns,  and  of  noble 

kinde, 
And  from  hir  cradel    up  fostred  in  the 

feith 
Of  Crist,  and  bar  his  gospel  in  hir  minde; 
She  never  cessed,  as  I  writen  finde, 
Of  hir  preyere,   and   god    to   love   and 

drede,  125 

Biseking  him  to  kepe  hir  maydenhede. 

And  when    this   mayden  sholde  unto  a 

man 
Y-wedded  be,  that  was  ful  yong  of  age, 
Which  that  y-cleped  was  Valerian, 
And  day  was  conien  of  hir  mariage,    130 
She,  ful  devout  and  humble  in  hir  corage, 
Under  hir  robe  of  gold,  that  sat  ful  fayre. 
Had  next  hir  flesh  y-clad  hir  in  an  heyre. 

And  whyl  the  organs  maden  melodye, 
To  god  alone  in  herte  thus  sang  she;   135 
*0  lord,  my  scjule  and  eek  my  body  gye 
Unwemmed,  lest  that  I  confounded  be:  ' 
And,  for  his  love  that  deyde  upon  a  tree, 
Every  seconde  or  thridde  day  she  faste, 
yVy  biddinge  in  hir  orisons  ful  faste.     140 

The  night  cam,  and  to  bedde  moste  she 

gon 
With  hir  houshonde,  as  ofte  is  the  manere. 
And  prively  to  him  she  seyde  anon, 
'  O  swete  and  wel  biloved  spouse  dere, 
Ther    is    a    conseil,    and    ye    wolde    it 

here,  145 


Which  that  right  fain  I  wolde  unto  yow 

seye, 
So  that  ye  swere  ye  shul  me  nat  biwreye.' 

Valerian  gan  faste  unto  hir  swere, 
That  for  no  cas,  ne  thing  that  mighte  be, 
He  sholde  never-mo  biwreyen  here;    150 
And  thanne  at  erst   to  him  thus  seyde 

she, 
'  T  have  an  angel  which  that  loveth  me, 
That  with  greet  love,  wher-so  I  wake  or 

slepe, 
Is  redy  ay  my  body  for  to  kepe. 

And  if  that  he  mayfelen,  out  of  drede,  155 
That  ye  me  touche  or  love  in  vileinye, 
He  right  anon  vvol  slee  yow  with   the 

dede, 
And  in  youryowthe  thus  ye  shulden  dye; 
And  if  that  ye  in  clene  love  me  gye. 
He  wol  yow  loven  as  me,  for  your  clen- 

nesse,  160 

And  shewen  yow  his  loye  and  his  bright- 

nesse.' 

Valerian,  corrected  as  god  wolde, 
Answerde  agayn,  'if  I  shal  trustcn  thee, 
Lat  me  that  angel  se,  and  him  biholde; 
And  if  that  it  a  verray  angel  l)e  165 

Than  wol   I   doon  as  thou  hast  preyed 

me; 
And  if  thou  love  another  man,  for  sothe 
Right  with  this  swerd  than  wol   1   slee 

yow  bothe.' 

Cecile  answerde  anon  right  in  this  wyse, 
'  If   that    yow    list,    the    angel    shul    ye 

see,  170 

So  that  ye  trowe  on  Crist  and  yow  bap- 

tyse. 
Cioth  forth  to  Via  Apia,'  quod  she, 
'  That  fro  this  toun  ne   stant   but  myles 

three, 
And,  to  the  povre  fulkes  that  ther  dwellc, 
Sey  hem  right  thus,  as  that  I   shal  yow 

telle.  175 

Telle   hem   that  I,   Cecile,   yow  to   hem 

sente, 
To  shewen  yow  the  gode  Urban  the  olde, 
For  secree  nedes  and  for  good  entente. 
And  whan  that  ye  seint   Urban   han   l)i- 

holde, 


7o8 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[180-246. 


Telle  him  the  wordes  whiche  I  to  yow 
tolde;  180 

And  whan  that  he  hath  purged  yow  fro 
sinne, 

Thanne  shul  ye  see  that  angel,  er  ye 
twinne.' 

Valerian  is  to  the  place  y-gon, 

And  right  as  him  was  taught  by  his  lern- 

inge, 
He  fond  this  holy  olde  Urban  anon     185 
Among  the  seintes  buriels  lotinge. 
And  he  anon,  with-outen  taryinge, 
Dide  his  message;  and  whan  that  he  it 

tolde, 
Urban  for  loye  his  hondes  gan  up  holde. 

The  teres  from  his  yen  leet  he  falle  —    190 
'  Almighty  lord,  o  lesu  Crist,'  quod  he, 
'  Sower  of  chast  conseil,  herde  of  us  alle, 
The  fruit  of  thilke  seed  of  chastitee 
That   thou  hast  sowe  in  Cecile,  tak  to 

thee! 
Lo,  lyk  a  bisy  bee,  with-outen  gyle,     195 
Thee  serveth  ay  thyn  owene  thral  Cecile  ! 

For  thilke  spouse,  that  she  took  but  now 
Ful  lyk  a  hers  leoun,  she  sendeth  here, 
As  meke  as  ever  was  any  lamb,  to  yow  !  ' 
And   with    that    worde,   anon    ther   gan 

appere  200 

An  old  man,  clad  in  whyte  clothes  clere. 
That  hadde  a  book  with  lettre  of  golde  in 

honde. 
And  gan  biforn  Valerian  to  stonde. 

Valerian  as  deed  fil  doun  for  drede 
Whan  he  him  saugh,  and   he  up  hente 

him  tho,  205 

And  on  his  book  right  thus  he  gan  to 

rede  — 
'Oo  Lord,  00  feith,  00  god  with-outen 

mo, 
Oo  Cristendom,  and  fader  of  alle  also, 
Aboven  alle  and  over  al  everywhere  '  — 
Thise    wordes    al    with    gold    y-writen 

were.  210 

Wlian  this  was  rad,  than  seyde  this  olde 

man, 
'  Levestow  this  thing  or  no  ?   sey  ye  or 

nay.' 
'  I  leve  al  this  thing,'  quod  Valerian, 


'  For  sother  thing  than   this,  I  dar  wel 

say. 
Under    the    hevene     no    wight     thinke 

may.'  215 

Tho  vanisshed  the  olde  man,   he  niste 

where, 
And    pope   Urban   him    cristened    right 

there. 

Valerian  goth  hoom,  and  fint  Cecilie 
With-inne   his   chambre  with   an   angel 

stonde ; 
This  angel  hadde  of  roses  and  of  lilie  220 
Corones  two,  the  which  he  bar  in  honde; 
And  first  to  Cecile,  as  I  understonde. 
He  yaf  that  oon,  and  after  gan  he  take 
That  other  to  Valerian,  hir  make. 

'  With  body  clene  and  with  unwemmed 
thoght  225 

Kepeth  ay  wel  thise  corones,'  quod  he; 

'  Fro  Paradys  to  yow  have  I  hem  broght, 

Ne  never-mo  ne  shal  they  roten  be, 

Ne  lese  her  sote  savour,  trusteth  me; 

Ne  never  wight  shal  seen  hem  with  his 
ye,  230 

But  he  be  chaast  and  hate  vileinye. 

And  thou,  Valerian,  for  thou  so  sone 

Assentedest  to  good  conseil  also, 

Sey  what  thee  list,  and  thou  shalt  han 

thy  bone.' 
'  I  have  a  brother,'  quod  Valerian  tho,  235 
'  That  in  this  world  I  love  no  man  so. 
I  pray  yow  that   my  brother    may  han 

grace 
To  knowe  the  trouthe,  as  I  do  in  this 

place.' 

The  angel   seyde,   '  god   lyketh  thy   re- 

queste. 
And   bothe,  with   the   palm   of    martir- 

dom,  240 

Ye  shullen  come  unto  his  blisful  feste.' 
And  with  that  word  Tiburce  his  brother 

com. 
And  whan  that  he  the  savour  undernom 
Which  that  the  roses  and  the  lilies  caste, 
With-inne   his  herte   he   gan  to  wondre 

faste,  245 

And  seyde,  '  I  wondre,  this  tyme  of  the 
yeer, 


247-3 1 3-] 


G.    THE   SECOND E   NONNES  TALE. 


709 


Whennes  that  sote  savour  cometh  so 
Of  rose  and  lilies  that  I  smelle  heer. 
For  though  I  hadde  hem  in  myn  hondes 
two,  249 

The  savour  mighte  in  me  no  depper  go. 
The  sote  smel  that  in  myn  herte  I  finde 
Hath  chaunged  me  al  in  another  kinde.' 

Valerian  seyde,  '  two  corones  han  we, 
Snow-whyte  and  rose-reed,  that  shynen 

clere, 
Whiche  that  thyn  yen  han  no  might   to 

see;  255 

And   as   thou   smellest  hem  thurgh  my 

preyere. 
So  shaltow  seen  hem,  leve  brother  dere, 
If  it  so  be  thou  wolt,  withouten  slouthe, 
Bileve  aright  and  knowen  verray  trouthe.' 

Tiburce  answerde, '  seistow  this  to  me  260 
In  soothnesse,  or  in  dreem  I  herkne  this?' 
'  In  dremes,'  quod  Valerian,  '  han  we  be 
Unto  this  tyme,  brother  myn,  y-wis. 
But  now  at  erst  in  trouthe  our  dwelling  is.' 
'  How  woostow  this,'  quod  Tiburce,  '  in 
what  wyse? '  265 

Quod  Valerian,  '  that  shal  I  thee  devyse. 

The  angel  of  god  hath  me  the  trouthe 

y-taught 
Which  thou  shalt  seen,  if  that  thou  wolt 

reneye 
The    ydoles    and   be    clene,    and    elles 

naught.' —  269 

And  of  the  miracle  of  thise  corones  tweye 
Seint  Ambrose  in  his  preface  list  to  seye; 
Solempnely  this  nol^le  doctour  dere 
Commendeth     it,     and     seith     in      this 

manere  : 

The  palm  of  martirdom  for  to  receyve, 
Scinte  Cecile,  fulrtld  of  goddes  yifte,   275 
The  world  and  eek  hir  chambre  gan  she 

wey  ve ; 
Witnes  Tyburces  and  Valerians  shrifte, 
To  whiche   god   of  his   bountee   wolde 

shifte 
Corones  two  of  floures  wel  smellinge, 
And  made  his  angel  hem  the   corones 

bringe :  2S0 

The   mayde  hath  broght   thise    men    to 
blisse  above; 


The  world  hath  wist  what  it   is   worth, 

certeyn, 
Devocioun  of  chastitee  to  love.  — 
Tho   shewede    him   Cecile  al  open  and 

pleyn 
That  alle  ydoles  nis  but  a  thing  in  veyn; 
For   they  been  dombe,  and    therto  they 

been  deve,  286 

And  charged  him  his  ydoles  for  to  leve. 

'  Who  so  that  troweth  nat  this,  a  beste 

he  is,' 
Quod  tho  Tiburce,  '  if  that    I    shal    nat 

lye.' 
And  she  gan  kisse  his  brest,  that  herde 

this,  290 

And   was    ful    glad    he    coude   trouthe 

espye. 
'This  day  I  take  thee  for  myn  allye,' 
Seyde  this  blisful  fayre  mayde  dere; 
And  after  that  she  seyde  as  ye  may  here  : 

'  Lo,  right  so  as  the  love  of  Crist,'  quod 

she,  295 

'  Made  me  thy  brotheres   wyf,  right  in 

that  wyse 
Anon  for  myn  allye  heer  take  I  thee. 
Sin  that  thou  wolt  thyn  ydoles  despyse. 
Go    with    thy  brother    now,    and    thee 

baptyse. 
And    make    thee    clene;    so    that   thou 

mowe  biholde  3cx> 

The  angels  face   of  which    thy  brother 

tolde.' 

Tiburce   answerde   and   seyde,   '  brother 

dere. 
First  tel  me  whider  I  shal,  and  to  what 

man?' 
'To  whom?'  quod  he,  'com  forthwith 

right  good  chere, 
I  wol  thee  lede  unto  the  pope  Urban.' 
'Til  Urban?  brother  myn  Valerian,'    306 
Quod    tho  Tiburce,  '  woltow   me   thider 

lede? 
Me  thinketh  that  it  tvere  a  wonder  dede. 

Ne  menestow  nat  Urban,'  quod  he  tho, 
'  That  is  so  ofte  dampned  to  be  deed,  310 
And  woneth  in  halkes  alwey  to  and  fro, 
And  dar  nat  ones  putte  forth  his  heed? 
Men  sholde    him    brennen   in  a    fyr   so 
reed 


7IO 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[314-382. 


If  he  were  founde,  or  that  men  mighte 

him  spye; 
And  we  alsu,  to  here  him  companye  — 

And  whyl  we  seken  thilke  divinitee    316 

That  is  y-hid  in  hevene  prively, 

Algate   y-brend  in   this   world   shul   we 

be!' 
To  whom  Cecile  answerde  boldely,     319 
'  Men  mighten  dreden  wel  and  skilfully 
This  lyf  to  lese,  myn  owene  dere  brother, 
If  this  were  livinge  only  and  non  other. 

But  ther  is  better  lyf  in  other  place, 
That  never  shal  be  lost,  ne  drede  thee 

noght, 
Which  goddes  sone  us  tolde  thurgh  his 

grace;  325 

That    fadres     sone     hath     alle    thinges 

wroght; 
And   al   that   wroght   is   with   a    skilful 

thoght, 
The  goost,  that  fro  the  fader  gan  procede, 
Hath  sowled  hem,  withouten  any  drede. 

By  word  and  by  miracle  goddes  sone,  330 
Whan   he  was   in    this   world,   declared 

here 
That   ther  was  other  lyf  ther  men  may 

wone.' 
To  whom  answerde   Tiburce,  '  o   suster 

dere, 
Ne  seydestow  right  now  in  this  manere, 
Ther  nis  but  o    god,  lord    in    soothfast- 

nesse;  335 

And  now   of  three   how   maystow  bere 

witnesse?' 

*  That  shal  I  telle,'  quod  she,  *  er  I  go. 
Right  as  a  man  hath  sapiences  three, 
Memorie,  engyn,  and  intellect  also. 
So,  in  o  being  of  divinitee,  340 

Three  persones  may  ther  right  wel  be.' 
Tho  gan  she  him  ful  bisily  to  preche 
Of  Cristes  come  and  of  his  peynes  teche. 

And  many  pointes  of  his  passioun ; 
How   goddes   sone    in    this   world   was 

withholde,  345 

To  doon  mankinde  pleyn  remissioun, 
That  was  y-bounde   in   sinne  and  cares 

colde : 
Al  this  thing  she  unto  Tiburce  tolde. 


And  after  this  Tiburce,  in  good  entente, 
With  Valerian  to  pope  Urban  he  wente. 

That  thanked  god;  and  with  glad  herte 

and  light  351 

lie  cristned  him,  and  made  him  in  that 

place 
Parfit  in  his  lerninge,  goddes  knight. 
And  after  this  Tiburce  gat  swich  grace. 
That  every  day  he  saugh,  in    tyme  and 

space,  355 

The   angel   of   god;     and   every   maner 

bone 
That  he  god  axed,  it  was  sped  ful  sone. 

It  were  ful  hard  by  ordre  for  to  seyn 
How    many    wondres    lesus     for     hem 

wroghte; 
But  atte  laste,  to  tellen  short  and  pleyn, 
The  sergeants  of  the  toun  of  Rome  hem 

soghte,  361 

And   hem   biforn   Almache  the   prefect 

broghte. 
Which   hem  apposed,  and  knew  al  hir 

entente. 
And  to  the  image  of  lupiter  hem  sente, 

And  seyde,  *  who  so  wol  nat  sacrifyse, 
Swap  of  his  heed,  this   is  my  sentence 

here.'  366 

Anon  thise  martirs  that  I  yow  devyse, 
<)on  Maximus,  that  was  an  officere 
Of  the  prefectes  and  his  corniculere. 
Hem   hente;     and    whan   he    forth    the 

seintes  ladde,  370 

Him-self    he    weep,    for    pitee    that   he 

hadde. 

Whan  Maximus  had  herd  the  seintes  lore, 
He  gat  him  of  the  tormentoures  leve, 
And   ladde   hem   to   his   hous   withoute 
more;  374 

And  with  hir  preching,  er  that  it  were  eve. 
They  gonnen  fro  the  tormentours  to  reve. 
And  fro  Maxime,  and  fro  his  folk  echone 
The  false  feith,  to  trowe  in  god  allone. 

Cecilie  cam,  whan  it  was  woxen  night, 
With    preestes   that    hem    cristned    alle 

y-fere ;  38a 

And    afterward,    whan    day    was    woxen 

light, 
Cecile  hem  seyde  with  a  ful  sobre  chere, 


383-450- ] 


G.    THE   SECONDE   NONNES   TALE. 


711 


'  Now,  Cristes  owene  knightes  leve  and 

dere, 
Caste  alle  awey  the  werkes  of  derknesse, 
And   armeth   yovv   in   armure   of  bright- 

ncsse.  385 

Ye  han  for  sothe  y-doon  a  greet  hataille, 
Your   cours  is  doon,  your    feith  han  ye 

conserved, 
Goth  to  the  corone  of  lyf  that  may  nat 

faille; 
The    rightful    luge,   which    that   ye    han 

served, 
Shall  yeve  it  yow,  as  ye  han  it  deserved.' 
And  whan  this  thing  was  seyd  as  I  de- 

vyse,  391 

Men  iadde  hem  forth  to  doon  the  sacri- 

fyse. 

But  whan  they  weren  to  the  place  broght, 
To  tellen  shortly  the  conclusioun. 
They   nolde   encense   ne   sacrifice   right 
noght,  395 

But  on  hir  knees  they  setten  hem  adoun 
With  hunil)le  herte  and  sad  devocioun. 
And  losten  bothe  hir  hedes  in  the  place. 
Hir  soules  wenten  to  the  king  of  grace. 

This  Maximus,  that  saugh  this  thing  bi- 

tyde,  400 

With  pitous  teres  tolde  it  anon-right, 
That  he  hir  soules  saugh  to  heven  glyde 
With  angels  ful  of  cleernesse  and  of  light. 
And  with   his  word   converted   many  a 

wight; 
For  which   Almachius  dide  him  so  to- 

bete  405 

With  whippe  of  leed,  til  he  his  lyf  gan 

lete. 

Cecile  him  took  and  buried  him  anoon 
By  Tihurce  and  Valerian  softely, 
Withinne  hir  burying-place,  under    the 

stoon. 
And  after  this  Almachius  hastily         410 
Bad  his  ministres  fecchen  openly 
Cecile,  so  that  she  mighte  in  his  presence 
Doon  sacrifyce,  and  lupiter  encense. 

But  they,  converted  at  hir  wyse  lore, 
Wepten  ful  sore,  and  yaven  ful  credence 
Unto    hir  word,  and    cryden    more    and 
more,  4'^ 


'Crist,  goddes  son^withouten  difference, 
Is  verray  god,  this  is  al  our  sentence. 
That  hath  so  good  a  servant  him  to  serve; 
This  with  o  voys  we  trowen,  thogh  we 
sterve ! '  420 

Almachius,  that  herde  of  this  doinge. 
Bad    fecchen  Cecile,  that  he  might    hir 

see, 
And  alderfirst,  lo  !  this  was  his  axinge, 
'  What  maner  womman  artow?  '  tho  quod 

he. 
'  I   am   a   gentil   womman    born,'    quod 

she,  425 

♦  I  axe  thee,'  quod  he, '  thogh  it  thee  greve, 
Of  thy  religioun  and  of  thy  bileve.' 

'  Ye  han  bigonne  your  question  folily,' 
Quod  she, '  that  wolden  two  answeres  con- 
clude 
In  00  demande;   ye  axed  lewedly.'      430 
Almache  answerde  unto  that  similitude, 
'  Of  whennes   comth  thyn  answering  so 

rude  ? ' 
'Of  whennes?'  quod  she,  whan  that  she 

was  freyned, 
'  Of  conscience   and   of  good    feith    un- 
feyned.' 

Almachius  seyde,  '  ne  takestow  non  hede 
Of  my  power?'    and  she  answerde  him 

this —  436 

'  Your  might,'  quod  she,  '  ful   litel  is  to 

drede; 
For  every  mortal  mannes  power  nis 
But  lyk  a  bladdre,  ful  of  wind,  y-wis. 
For   with   a   nedles    poynt,   whan    it   is 

blovve,  440 

May  al  the  boost  of  it  be  leyd  ful  lowe.' 

'  Ful  wrongfully  bigonne  thou,'  quod  he, 
'And  yet  in  wrong  is  thy  perseveraunce; 
Wostow  nat  how  our  mighty  princes  free 
Han    thus    comanded   and    maad    ordi- 

naunce,  445 

That  every  cristen  wight  shal  han  pen- 

aunce 
But-if  that  he  his  cristendom  withseye. 
And  goon  al  quit,  if  he  wol  it  reneye?' 

'  Your  princes  erren,  as  your  nobley  dooth,' 
(^uod  tho  Cecile,  '  and  with  a  wood  sen- 
tence 450 


712 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[451-518. 


Ye  make  us  gilty,  and^  is  nat  sooth ; 
For  ye,  that  knowen  wel  our  innocence, 
For  as  muche  as  we  doon  a  reverence 
To  Crist,  and  for  we  here  a  qjristen  name, 
Ye  putte  on  us  a  cryme,  and  eek  a  blame. 

])ut  we  that  knowen  thilke  name  so    456 
l'\)r  vertuous,  we  may  it  nat  withseye.' 
Almache  answerde,  '  chees  oon  of  thise 

two, 
Do  sacrifyce,  or  cristendom  reneye. 
That    thou   mowe  now  escapen  by  that 

weye.'  460 

At  which  the  holy  blisful  fayre  mayde 
Gan  for  to  laughe,  and  to  the  luge  seyde, 

'  O  luge,  confus  in  thy  nycetee, 
Woltow  that  I  reneye  innocence, 
To    make   me   a  wikked   wight?'    quod 
she;  465 

'  Lo !  he  dissimuleth  here  in  audience, 
He  stareth    and  woodeth  in  his  adver- 
tence ! ' 
To  whom  Almachius,  '  unsely  wrecche, 
Ne  woostow  nat  how  far  my  might  may 
strecche? 

Han   noght   our   mighty  princes   to  me 
yeven,  470 

Ye,  bothe  power  and  auctoritee 
To  maken  folk  to  dyen  or  to  liven? 
Why  spekestow  so  proudly  than  to  me?' 
'  I  speke  noght  but  stedfastly,'  quod  she, 
'  Nat    proudly,    for    I    seye,    as    for    my 
syde,  475 

We  haten  deedly  thilke  vyce  of  pryde. 

And  if  thou  drede  nat  a  sooth  to  here, 
Than  wol  I  shewe  al  openly,  by  right. 
That  thou  hast  maad  a  ful  gret  lesing 

here. 
Thou  seyst,  thy  princes  han  thee  yeven 

might  480 

Bothe  for  to  sleen  and  for  to  quiken  a 

wight; 
Thou,  that  ne  mayst  but  only  lyf  bireve. 
Thou  hast  non  other  power  ne  no  leve ! 

But  thou  mayst  seyn,  thy  princes  han  thee 

maked 
Ministre  of  deeth  ;    for  if  thou  speke  of 

mo,  485 

Thou  lyest,  for  thy  power  is  ful  naked.' 


'  Do  wey  thy  boldnes,'  seyde  Almachius 

tho, 
'  And  sacrifyce  to  our  goddes,  er  thou  go; 
I  recche  nat  what  wrong  that  thou  me 

profre. 
For  I  can  suffre  it  as  a  philosophre;    490 

But  thilke  wronges  may  I  nat  endure 
That  thou  spekest  of  our  goddes  here,' 

quod  he. 
Cecile  answerede,  '  o  nyce  creature. 
Thou  seydest  no  word  sin  thou  spak  to 

me 
That  I  ne  knewtherwith  thy  nycetee;  495 
And  that   thou    were,  in    every    maner 

wyse, 
A  lewed  officer  and  a  veyn  lustyse. 

Ther  lakketh  no-thing  to  thyn  utter  yen 
That  thou  nart  blind,  for  thing  that  we 

seen  alle 
That  it  is  stoon,  that  men  may  wel  es- 

pyen,  500 

That  ilke  stoon  a  god  thou  wolt  it  calle. 
I  rede  thee,  lat  thyn  hand  upon  it  falle, 
And  taste  it  wel,  and  stoon  thou  shalt  it 

finde. 
Sin  that    thou  seest  nat  with   thyn   yen 

blinde. 

It  is  a  shame  that  the  peple  shal         505 
So  scorne  thee,  and  laughe  at  thy  folye; 
For  comunly  men  woot  it  wel  overal, 
That  mighty  god  is  in  his  hevenes  hye. 
And  thise  images,  wel  thou  mayst  espye. 
To  thee  ne  to   hem-self  mowe  nought 

profyte,  510 

For   in    effect   they   been    nat   worth   a 

myte.' 

Thise  wordes   and   swiche  othere  seyde 

she, 
And  he  weex  wroth,  and  bad  men  sholde 

hir  lede 
Horn    til   hir   hous,    '  and   in   hir  hous,' 

quod  he, 
'  Brenne  hir  right  in  a  bath  of  flambes 

rede.'  515 

And    as    he   bad,  right  so  was  doon   in 

dede; 
For  in  a  bath  they  gonne  hir  faste  shetten. 
And  night  and  day  greet  fyr  they  under 

betten. 


519-5^1-] 


G.     THE  CANON'S   YEOMAN'S   PROLOGUE. 


713 


The  longe  night  and  eek  a  day  also, 
For  al  the  fyr  and  eek  the  bathes  hete, 
She  sat  al  cold,  and  felede  no  wo,       521 
Tt  made  hir  nat  a  drope  for  to  swcte. 
But  in  that  bath  hir  lyf  she  moste  lete; 
For   he,  Almachius,  with  ful  wikke  en- 
tente 524 
To  sleen  hir  in  the  bath  his  sonde  sente. 

Three  strokes  in  the  nekke  he  smoot  hir 

tho, 
The  tormentour,  but  for  no  maner  chaunce 
lie  niij^hte    noght   smyte  al   hir    nekke 

a-t\vo; 
Anil   fur   ther   was   that  tyme   an   ordi- 

naunce. 
That  no  man  sholde   doon   man   swich 

penaunce  530 

The  ferthe  strook  to  smyten,  softe  or  sore, 
This  tormentour  ne  dorste  do  na-more. 

But  half-deed,  with  hir  nekke  y-corven 

there. 
He  lefte  hir  lye,  and  on  his  wey  is  went. 
The  Cristen  folk,  which  that  aboute  hir 

were,  535 


With    shetes   ban    the    blood    ful    faire 

y-hent. 
Thre  dayes  lived  she  in  this  torment. 
And  never  cessed  hem  the  feitli  to  teche; 
That  she  hadde  fostred,  hem  she  gan  to 

preche; 

And    hem  she  yaf  hir  moebles  and    hir 
thing,  540 

And  to  the  pope  Urban  bitook  hem  tho. 
And  seyde,  '  I  axed  this  at  hevene  king, 
To  han  respyt  three  dayes  and  na-mo, 
To  recomende  to  yow,  er  that  I  go, 
Thise  soules,  lo !  and  that  I  niighte  do 
werche  545 

Here  of  myn  hous  perpetuelly  a  cherche.' 

Seint  Urban,  with  his  deknes,  prively 
The  body  fette,  and  buried  it  by  nighte 
Among  his  othere  seintes  honestly. 
Hir   hous    the    chirche    of   seint   Cecilie 

highte;  550 

Seint  Urban  halwed  it,  as  hewel  mighte; 
In  which,  into  this  day,  in  noble  wyse. 
Men  doon  to  Crist  and  to  his  seint  ser- 

vyse. 


Here  is  ended  the  Seconde  Nonnes  Tale. 


THE  CANON'S  YEOMAN'S   PROLOGUE. 


The  prologe  of  the   Chanons    Yemannes 
Tale. 

Whan  ended  was  the  lyf  of  seint  Cecyle, 
Er  we  had  riden  fully  fyve  myle,  555 

At  Boghton  under  Blee  us  gan  atake 
A  man,  that  clothed  was  in  clothes  blake. 
And  undernethe  he  hadde  a  whyte  sur- 

plys. 
His  hakeney,  that  was  al  pomely  grys, 
So  swatte,  that  it  wonder  was  to  see;  560 
It  semed  he  had  jiriked  niyles  three. 
The  hors  cck  that  his  yeman  rood  upon 
So  swatte,  that  unnethe  mighte  it  gon. 
Aboute  the    peytrel    stood  the  foom  ful 

hye, 
He  was  of  fome  al  flekked  as  a  pye.   565 
A  male  tweyfold  on  his  croper  lay, 


It  semed  that  he  caried  lyte  array. 
Al  light  for  somer  rood  this  worthy  man. 
And  in  myn  herte  wondren  I  bigan 
What  that  he  was,  til  that  I  understood 
How   that   his  cloke   was   sowed    to   his 

hood;  571 

For  which,  when  I  had  longe  avysed  me, 
I  demed  him  som  chanon  for  to  be. 
His  hat  heng  at  his  bak  doun  by  a  laas, 
For    he    had    riden    more    than    trot    or 

paas;  575 

He  had  ay  priked  lyk  as  he  were  wood. 
A  clote-leef  he  hadde  under  his  hi)od 
For  swoot  and  for  to  kepe  his  heed  from 

hete. 
But  it  was  loye  for  to  seen  him  swete ! 
His  forheed  dropped  as  a  stillatorie,  5S0 
Were  ful  of  plantain  and  of  paritorie. 


7^4 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[582-661. 


And  whan  that  he  was  come,  he  gan  to 

crye, 
'  God    save,'    quod    he,  '  this    loly  com- 

panye ! 
Paste  have  I  priked,'  quod  he,  '  for  your 

sake, 
By-cause  that  I  wolde  yow  atake,        585 
To  rytlen  in  this  mery  companye.' 
His  yenian  eek  was  ful  of  curteisye. 
And  seyde,   '  sires,  now  in   the   morwe- 

tyde 
Out  of  your  hostelrye  I  saugh  you  ryde. 
And  warned  heer  my  lord  and  my  sov- 

erayn,  590 

Which  that  to  ryden  with  yow  is  ful  fayn, 
For  his  desport;   he  loveth  daliaunce.' 
'  PVeend,  for  thy  warning  god  yeve  thee 

good  chaunce,' 
Than  seyde  our  host, '  for  certes,  it  wolde 

seme 
Thy  lord  were  wys,  and   so   I  may  wel 

deme;  595 

He  is  ful  locund  also,  dar  I  leye, 
Can  he  oght  telle  a  mery  tale  or  tweye. 
With    which    he   glade    may    this    com- 
panye? ' 
'Who,  sire?    my   lord?   ye,  ye,  with- 

outen  lye, 
He  can  of  murthe,  and  eek  of  lolitee  600 
Nat  but  ynough;  also  sir,  trusteth  me. 
And  ye  him  knewe  as  wel  as  do  I, 
Ye  wolde  wondre  how  wel  and  craftily 
He    coude    werke,    and   that   in  sondry 

wyse. 
He  hath  take  on  him  many  a  greet  em- 

pryse,  605 

Which  were  ful  hard  for  any  that  is  here 
To  bringe  aboute,  but  they  of  him  it  lere. 
As  homely  as  he  rit  amonges  yow, 
If  ye  him  knewe,  it  wolde  be  for  your 

prow;  609 

Ye  wolde  nat  forgoon  his  aqueyntaunce 
For  mochel  good,  I  dar  leye  in  balaunce 
Al  that  I  have  in  my  possessioun. 
He  is  a  man  of  heigh  discrecioun, 
I  warne  you  wel,  he  is  a  passing  man.' 
'  Wel,'   quod    our    host,  '  I  pray  thee, 

tel  me  than,  615 

Is  he  a  clerk,  or  noon?  tel  what  he  is.' 

'  Nay,  he  is  gretter  than  a  clerk,  y-wis,' 

Seyde  this  yeman,  '  and  in  wordes  fewe. 

Host,  of  his  craft  som-what  I  wol  yow 

she  we.  619 


I  seye,  my  lord  can  swich  subtilitee  — 
(But  al  his  craft  ye  may  nat  wite  at  me; 
And  som-what  helpe  I  yet  to  his  werk- 

ing)  — 
That  al  this  ground  on  which  we  been 

ryding. 
Til  that  we  come  to  Caunterbury  toun. 
He  coude  al  clene  turne  it  up-so-doun. 
And  pave  it  al  of  silver  and  of  gold.'  626 
And   whan    this    yeman    hadde    thus 
y-told 
Unto  our  host,  he  seyde,  '  benedicile  ! 
This  thing  is  wonder  merveillous  to  me. 
Sin  that  thy  lord  is  of  so  heigh  prudence. 
By-cause  of  which  men  sholde  him  rever- 
ence, 631 
That  of  his  worship  rekketh  he  so  lyte; 
His  oversloppe  nis  nat  worth  a  myte, 
As  in  effect,  to  him,  so  mote  I  go ! 
It  is  al  baudy  and  to-tore  also.  635 
Why  is  thy  lord  so  sluttish,  I  thee  preye, 
And  is  of  power  better  cloth  to  beye. 
If  that  his  dede  accorde  with  thy  speche? 
Telle  me  that,  and  that  I  thee  biseche.' 
'  Why  ? '  quod  this  yeman,  '  wherto  axe 
ye  me?                                             640 
God  help  me  so,  for  he  shal  never  thee  ! 
(But  I  wol  nat  avowe  that  I  seye. 
And  therfor  kepe  it  secree,  I  yow  preye). 
He  is  to  wys,  in  feith,  as  I  bileve; 
That  that  is  overdoon,  it  wol  nat  preve 
Aright,  as  clerkes  seyn,  it  is  a  vyce.    646 
Wherfor  in  that  I  holde  him  levved  and 

nyce. 
For  whan  a  man  hath  over-greet  a  wit, 
Ful  oft  him  happeth  to  misusen  it; 
So  dooth  my  lord,  and  that  me  greveth 
sore.  650 

God  it  amende,  I  can  sey  yow  na-more.' 
'Ther-of  no  fors,  good  yeman,'  quod 
our  host; 
'  Sin  of  the    conning  of  thy   lord   thou 

wost, 
Tel  how  he  dooth,  I  pray  thee  hertely, 
Sin  that  he  is  so  crafty  and  so  sly.       655 
Wher  dwellen  ye,  if  it  to  telle  be?' 

'  In  the  suburbes  of  a  toun,'  quod  he, 
'  Lurkinge  in  hemes  and  in  lanes  blinde, 
Wher-as  thise  robbours  and  thise  theves 

by  kinde 
Ilolden  hir  privee  fereful  residence,    660 
As  they  that  dar  nat  shewen  hir  pres- 
ence; 


662-726.] 


G.     THE   CIIANOUNS   YEMANNES  TALE. 


715 


So  faren  we,  if  I  shal  seye  the  sothe.' 

'  Now,'  quod  our  host, '  yit  lat  me  talke 

to  the; 
Why  artow  so  discoloured  of  thy  face?  ' 
'  I'cter !  '  quod  he,  '  god  yeve  it  harde 

grace,  665 

I  am  so  used  in  the  fyr  to  blowe, 
That    it    hath    chaunged   my   colour,    I 

trowe. 
I  am  nat  wont  in  no  mirour  to  prye. 
Hut  swinke  sore  and  lerne  multiplye. 
We  l)loiidren  ever  and  pourcn  in  the  fyr. 
And  for  al  that  we  fayle  of  our  desyr,  671 
For  ever  we  lakken  our  conclusioun. 
To  mochel  folk  we  doon  illusioun. 
And  borvve  gold,  be  it  a  pound  or  two, 
Or  ten,  or  twelve,  or  many  sommes  mo, 
And    make    hem   wenen,   at   the   leeste 

weye,  676 

That  of  a  pound  we  coude  make  tweye ! 
Yet  is  it  fals,  but  ay  we  han  good  hope 
It  for  to  doon,  and  after  it  we  grope. 
lUit  that  science  is  so  fer  us  biforn,      680 
We  mowen  nat,  al-though  we  hadde  it 

sworn. 
It  overtake,  it  slit  awey  so  faste; 
It  wol  us  maken  beggers  atte  laste.' 
Whyl  this  yeman  was  thus  in  his  talk- 
ing, 
This  chanoun  drough  him  neer,  and  herde 

al  thing  685 

Which  this  yeman  spak,  for  suspecioun 
Of    mennes    speche     ever     hadde     this 

chanoun. 
For  Catoun  seith,  that  he  that  gilty  is 
Demeth  al  thing  be  spoke  of  him,  y-wis. 
That  was  the  cause  he  gan  so  ny  him 

drawe  690 

To  his  yeman,  to  herknen  al  his  sawe. 

Here  endeth  the  Prologe  of  the 


And  thus  he  seyde  un-to  his  yeman  tho, 
'  Hold  thou  thy  pees,  and  spek  no  wordcs 

mo, 
For  if  thou  do,  thou  shalt  it  dere  abye; 
Thou  sclaundrest  me  heer  in  this  coni- 

panye,  695 

And  eek  discoverest  that  thou  sholdest 

hyde.' 
'  Ye,'  quod  our  host,  '  telle  on,  what  so 

bityde; 
Of  al  his  threting  rekke  nat  a  myte  ! ' 
'  In  feith,'  quod  he,  '  namore  I  do  but 

lyte.' 
And  whan  this  chanon  saugh  it  wolde 

nat  be,  700 

But  his  yeman  wolde  telle  his  privitee, 
He  fledde    awey  for   verray  sorwe   and 

shame. 
'  A  !  '  quod  the  yeman, '  heer  shal  aryse 

game, 
Al  that  I  can  anon  now  wol  I  telle. 
Sin    he   is   goon,   the   foule   feend    him 

quelle !  705 

For  never  her-after  wol  I  with  him  mete 
For  peny  ne  for  pound,  I  yow  bihete  ! 
He  that  me  broghte  first  unto  that  game, 
Er    that    he    dye,   sorwe    have    he    and 

shame ! 
For  it  is  ernest  to  me,  by  my  feith;      710 
That  fele  I  wel,  what  so  any  man  seith. 
And  yet,  for  al  my  smert  and  al  my  grief, 
For  al  my  sorwe,  labour,  and  meschief, 
I  coude  never  leve  it  in  no  wyse. 
Now  wolde  god  my  wit  mighte  suffyse 
To  tellen  al  that  longeth  to  that  art !   716 
But  natheles  yow  wol  I  tellen  part; 
Sin  that  my  lord  is  gon,  I  wol  nat  spare; 
Swich  thing  as  that  I  knowe,  I  wol  de- 
clare. — 
Chanouns  Yemannes  Tale. 


THE   CHANOUNS   YEMANNES   TALE. 


Here  biginneth  the  Chanouns   Ye- 
man HIS  Tale. 

\^Prima  pars.~\ 

With  this  chanoun  I  dwelt  have  seven 
yeer,  720 

And  of  his  science  am  I  never  the  neer. 


Al  that  I  hadde,  I  have  y-lost  ther-by; 
And  god  wot,  so  hath  many  mo  than  I. 
Ther  I  was  wont  to  be  right  fresh  and 

gay 

Of  clothing  and  of  other  good  array,  725 
Now   may  I    were    an    hose    upon   myn 
heed; 


7i6 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[727-806. 


And  wher  my  colour  was  bothe  fresh  and 

reed, 
Now  is  it  wan  and  of  a  'eden  hewe; 
Wlio-so  it  useth,  sore  shal  he  rewe. 
And  of  my  swink  yet  blered  is  myn  ye, 
Lo  !   which  avantage  is  to  multiplye  !  731 
That  slyding  science  hath  me  maad  so 

hare, 
That  I  have  no  good,  wher  that  ever  I 

fare; 
And  yet  I  am  endetted  so  ther-by 
Of  gold  that  I  have  borwed,  trewely,  735 
That  whyl  I  live,  I  shal  it  quyte  never. 
Lat  every  man  be  war  by  me  for  ever ! 
What    maner    man    that     casteth    him 

ther-to, 
If  he  continue,  I  holde  his  thrift  y-do. 
So   helpe    me  god,  ther-by  shal  he  nat 

winne,  740 

But  empte  his  purs,  and  make  his  wittes 

thinne. 
And  whan  he,  thurgh  his  madnes  and 

folye, 
Hath    lost  his  owene  good   thurgh   lu- 

partye, 
Thanne  he  excyteth  other  folk  ther-to, 
To  lese  hir  good  as  he  him-self  hath  do. 
For  unto  shrewes  loye  it  is  and  ese     746 
To  have  hir  felawes  in  peyne  and  dis- 

ese; 
Thus  was  I  ones  lerned  of  a  clerk. 
Of  that  no  charge,  1  wol  speke  of  our 

werk. 
Whan  we  been  ther  as  we  shul  exer- 

cyse  750 

Our  elvish  craft,  we  semen  wonder  wyse. 
Our    termes    been    so    clergial   and   so 

queynte. 
I  blowe  the  fyr  til  that  myn  herte  feynte. 

What  sholde  T  tellen  ech  proporcioun 
Of  thinges  whiche  that  we  werche  upon. 
As  on  five  or  sixe  ounces,  may  vvel  be. 
Of  silver  or  som  other  quantite,  757 

And  bisie  me  to  telle  yow  the  names 
Of  orpiment,  brent  bones,  yren  squames, 
That    into    poudre    grounden    been    ful 

smal?  760 

And  in  an  erthen  potte  how  put  is  al, 
And  salt  y-put  in,  and  also  papeer, 
Biforn    thise    poudres  that   I   speke   of 

heer. 
And  wel  y-covered  with  a  lampe  of  glas, 


And  mochel  other  thing  which  that  ther 
was  ?  765 

And  of  the  pot  and  glasses  enluting. 
That  of  the  eyre  mighte  passe  out  no- 
thing? 
And  of  the  esy  fyr  and  smart  also, 
Which  that  was  maad,  and  of  the  care 

and  wo 
That  we  hadde  in  our  matires  sublyming, 
And  in  amalgaming  and  calcening       771 
Of  quik-silver,  y-clept  Mercuric  crude? 
For  alle   our  sleightes  we  can  nat  con- 
clude. 
Our  orpiment  and  sublymed  Mercuric, 
Our   grounden   litarge    eek  on  the  por- 
phurie,  775 

Of  ech  of  thise  of  ounces  a  certeyn 
Nought  helpeth  us,  our  labour  is  in  veyn. 
Ne  eek  our  spirites  ascencioun, 
Ne  our  materes  that  lyen  al  fixe  adoun, 
Mowe  in  our  werking  no-thing  us  avayle. 
For  lost  is  al  our  labour  and  travayle,  781 
And  al  the  cost,  a  twenty  devel  weye. 
Is  lost  also,  which  we  upon  it  leye. 

Ther  is  also  ful  many  another  thing 
That  is  unto  our  craft  apertening;        785 
Though    I    by   ordre   hem    nat    reherce 

can, 
By-cause  that  I  am  a  lewed  man, 
Yet   wol    I    telle   hem  as  they  come  to 

minde. 
Though   I  ne  can  nat  sette  hem  in  hir 

kinde; 
As  bole  armoniak,  verdegrees,  boras,  790 
And   sondry  vessels  maad  of  erthe  and 

glas. 
Our  urinales  and  our  descensories, 
Violes,  croslets,  and  sublymatories, 
Cucurbites,  and  alembykes  eek,  794 

And  othere  swiche,  dere  y-nough  a  leek. 
Nat  nedeth  it  for  to  reherce  hem  alle, 
Watres  rubifying  and  boles  galle, 
Arsenik,  sal  armoniak,  and  brimstoon; 
And  herbes  coude  I  telle  eek  many  oon, 
As  egremoine,  valerian,  and  lunarie,   800 
And  othere  swiche,  if  that  me  liste  tarie. 
Our  lampes  brenning  bothe  night  and  day. 
To  bringe  aboute  our  craft,  if  that  we 

may. 
Our  fourneys  eek  of  calcinacioun, 
And  of  watres  albificacioun,  805 

Unslekked  lym,  chalk,  and  gleyre  of  an 

ey. 


807-890.] 


G.  THE  CMANOUNS  YEMANNES  TALE. 


717 


Poudr^s  diverse,  asshes,  (long,  pisse,  and 

cley, 
Cered  pokets,  sal  peter,  vitriole; 
And  divers  fyres  maad  of  wode  and  cole; 
Sal  tartre,  alkaly,  and  sal  preparat,      810 
And  combust  materes  and  coagulat, 
Cley   maad   with    hors  or   mannes   heer, 

and  oile 
Of   tartre,  alum,   glas,   berm,   wort,   and 

argoile, 
Resalgar,  and  our  materes  enbibing  ; 
And  eek  of  our  materes  encorporing,  815 
And  of  our  silver  citrinacioun, 
( )ur  cementing  and  fermentacioun. 
Our  ingottes,  testes,  and  many  mo. 

I  wul  yow  telle,  as  was  me  taught  also, 
The  foure  spirites  and  the  bodies  sevene, 
By  ordre,  as  ofte  1  herde  my  lord  hem 

nevene.  '  821 

The  first  spirit  quik-silver  called  is. 
The  second  orpiment,  the  thridtle,  y-wis, 
Sal  armoniak,  and  the  ferthe  brimstoon. 
The  bodies  sevene  eek,   lo !    hem  heer 

anoon :  825 

Sol  gold  is,  and  Luna  silver  we  threpe, 
Mars  yren.  Mercuric  quik-silver  we  clepe, 
Saturnus  leed,  and  lupiter  is  tin. 
And  Venus  coper,  by  my  fader  kin  ! 

This  cursed  craft  who-so  wol  exercyse, 
He   shal    no   good    han   that    him   may 

suffyse ;  83 1 

For  al  the  good  he  spendeth  ther-aboute, 
He  lese  shal,  ther-of  have  I  no  doute. 
Who-so  that  listeth  outen  his  folye, 
Lat  him  come  forth,  and  lerne  multiplye; 
And  every  man  that  oght  hath  in    his 

cofre,  836 

Lat  him  appere,  and  wexe  a  philosofre. 
Ascaunce  that  craft  is  so  light  to  lere? 
Nay,  nay,  god  woot,  al  be  he  monk  or  frere, 
Freest  ur  chanoun,  or  any  other  wight, 
Though  he  sitte  at  his  book  bothe  day 

and  night,  841 

In  lernyng  of  this  elvish  nyce  lore, 
Al  is  in  veyn,  and  parde,  mochel  more  ! 
To  lerne  a  lewed  man  this  subtiltee,    844 
Fy  !   spek  nat  ther-of,  for  it  wol  nat  be; 
Al  conne  he  letterure,  or  conne  he  noon, 
As  in  effect,  he  shal  finde  it  al  oon. 
¥oT  bothe  two,  by  my  savacioun, 
Concluden,  in  multiplicacioun, 
Y-lyke  wel,  whan  they  han  al  y-do;     850 
This  is  to  seyn,  they  faylen  bothe  two. 


Yet  forgat  T  to  maken  rehersaille 
Of  watres  corosif  and  of  limaille. 
And  of  bodyes  mollilicacioun. 
And  also  of  hir  induracioun,  855 

Oiles,  ablucions,  and  metal  fusible, 
To  tellen  al  wolde  passen  any  bible 
That    o-wher   is;     wherfor,    as    for    the 

beste. 
Of  alle  thise  names  now  wol  I  me  reste. 
For,  as  I  trowe,  I  have  yow  told  y-nowe 
To  reyse  a  feend,  al  loke  he  never  so 

rowe.  861 

A!    nay!    lat    be;     the    philosophres 

stoon, 
Elixir  clept,  we  sechen  faste  echoon; 
For  hadde  we  him,  than  were  we  siker 

y-now.  864 

But,  unto  god  of  heven  I  make  avow. 
For  al  our  craft,  whan  we  han  al  y-do. 
And  al  our  sleighte,  he  wol  nat  come  us 

to. 
He  hath  y-maad  us  spenden  mochel  good, 
For   sorwe  of  which    almost  we  wexen 

wood,  86g 

But  that  good  hope  crepeth  in  our  herte, 
Supposinge  ever,  though  we  sore  smerte, 
To  be  releved  by  him  afterward; 
Swich  supposing  and  hope  is  sharp  and 

hard; 
I  warne  yow  wel,  it  is  to  seken  ever; 
That  futur  temps  hath  maad  men  to  dis- 
sever. 
In  trust  ther-of,  from  al  that  ever  they 

hadde.  876 

Yet  of  that  art  they  can  nat  wexen  sadde, 
For  unto  hem  it  is  a  bitter  swete  ; 
So  semeth  it;    for  nadde  they  but  a  shete 
Which  that  they  mighte  wrappe  hem  inne 

a-night,  880 

And  a  bak  to  walken  inne  by  day-light, 
They  wolde  hem  selle  and  spenden  on 

this  craft; 
They  can  nat  stinte  til  no-thing  be  laft. 
And  evermore,  wher  that  ever  they  goon, 
Men  may  hem  knowe  by  smel  of  brim- 
stoon; 885 
For  al  the  world,  they  stinken  as  a  goot; 
Iler  savour  is  so  rammish  and  so  hoot, 
That,  though  a  man  from  hem  a  niyle  be. 
The   savour   wol    infecte    him,    trusteth 

me; 
Lo,    thus    by   smelling   and    threedbare 

array,  890 


7i8 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[891-961. 


If  that  men  liste,  this  folk  they  knowe 

may. 
And  if  a  man  wol  aske  hem  prively, 
Why  they  been  clothed  so  unthriftily, 
They  right  anon  wol  rownen  in  his  ere, 
And  seyn,  that  if  that  they  espyed  were, 
Men  wolde  hem   slee,   by-cause   of  hir 

science;  896 

Lo,  thus  this  folk  bitrayen  innocence ! 
Passe  over  this;    I  go  my  tale  un-to. 
Er  than  the  pot  he  on  the  fyr  y-do, 
Of  metals  with  a  certein  quantite,        900 
My  lord  hem  tempreth,  and  no  man  but 

he  — 
Now  he  is  goon,  I  dar  seyn  boldely  — 
For,  as  men  seyn,  he  can  don  craftily; 
Algate    I    woot    wel   he   hath    swich   a 

name. 
And  yet  ful  oft  he  renneth  in  a  blame; 
And  wite  ye  how?   ful  ofte  it   happeth 

so,  906 

The    pot  to-breketh,  and  farewel !  al  is 

go! 
Thise  metals  been  of  so  greet  violence, 
Our  walles  mowe  nat  make  hem  resist- 

ence. 
But  if  they  weren  wroght  of  lym   and 

stoon;  910 

They    percen   so,  and    thurgh    the  wal 

they  goon, 
And   somme   of   hem   sinken   in-to   the 

ground  — 
Thus    han   we    lost    by  tymes   many   a 

pound  — 
And    somme  are  scatered   al    the   floor 

aboute, 
Somme  lepe  in-to  the  roof;   with-outen 

doute,  915 

Though    that   the  feend    noght    in    our 

sighte  him  shewe, 
I  trowe  he  with  us  be,  that  ilke  shrewe ! 
In  helle  wher  that  he  is  lord  and  sire, 
Nis  ther  more  wo,  ne  more  rancour  ne 

ire. 
Whan  that  our  pot  is  broke,  as  I  have 

sayd,  920 

Every    man    chit,    and    halt    him    yvel 

apayd. 
Som  seyde,  it  was   long  on   the  fyr- 

making, 
Som  seyde,  nay !  it  was  on  the  blowing; 
(Than   was   I    fered,   for   that  was   myn 

office); 


'  Straw ! '    quod   the    thridde,   '  ye   been 

lewed  and  nyce,  925 

It  was  nat  tempred  as  it  oghte  be.' 
'  Nay ! '    quod    the    ferthe,    '  stint,    and 

herkne  me; 
By-cause   our  fyr  ne  was  nat  maad   of 

beech. 
That  is  the  cause,  and  other  noon,  so 

theech ! ' 
I  can  nat  telle  wher-on  it  was  long,     930 
But  wel  I  wot  greet  stryf  is  us  among. 
'  What ! '  quod  my  lord,  '  ther  is  na- 

more  to  done, 
Of  thise  perils  I  wol  be  war  eft-sone; 
I  am  right  siker  that  the  pot  was  erased. 
Be  as  be  may,  be  ye  no-thing  amased; 
As   usage    is,   lat    swepe    the    floor    as 

swythe,  936 

Plukke  up  your  hertes,  and  beth  gladde 

and  blythe.' 
The  mullok  on  an  hepe  y-sweped  was. 
And  on  the  floor  y-cast  a  canevas,       939 
And  al  this  mullok  in  a  sive  y-throwe. 
And  sifted,  and  y-piked  many  a  throwe. 
'  Pardee,'  quod  oon,  '  somwhat  of  our 

metal 
Yet  is  ther  heer,  though  that  we  han  nat 

al. 
Al-though    this   thing    mishapped    have 

as  now, 
Another  tyme  it  may  be  wel  y-now,     945 
Us  moste  putte  our  good  in  aventure; 
A  marchant,  parde !  may  nat  ay  endure, 
Trusteth  me  wel,  in  his  prosperitee; 
Somtyme  his  good   is   drenched  in   the 

see. 
And   somtym   comth    it   sauf  un-to   the 

londe.'  950 

'  Pees ! '  quod  my  lord,  '  the  next  tyme 

I  wol  fonde 
To  bringe  our  craft  al  in  another  plyte; 
And  but  I  do,  sirs,  lat  me  han  the  wyte; 
Ther   was  defaute   in   som-what,    wel   I 

woot.' 
Another     seyde,    the    fyr    was     over 

hoot:—  955 

But,  be  it  hoot  or  cold,  I  dar  seye  this, 
That  we  concluden  evermore  amis. 
We  fayle  of  that  which  that  we  wolden 

have. 
And  in  our  madnesse  evermore  we  rave. 
And  whan  we  been  togidres  everichoon. 
Every  man  semeth  a  Salomon.  961 


9<')2-I032.] 


G.  THE  CHANOUNS  YEMANNES  TALE. 


719 


But  al  thing  which  that  shyneth  as  the 

gu\d 

Nis  nat   gold,   as   that    I    have    herd   it 

told; 
No  every  appcl  that  is  fair  at  ye 
Ne  is  nat  good,  what-so  men  clappe  or 

crye.  965 

Right  so,  lo !  fareth  it  amonges  us; 
He  that  semeth  the  wysest,  l:)y  lesus! 
Is    most    fool,   whan    it   cometh    to    the 

preef; 
And  he  that  semeth  trewest  is  a  theef; 
That  shul  ye  knowc,  er  that  I   fro  yow 

wentle,  970 

By  that  I  of  my  tale  have  maad  an  ende. 

Explicit  prima  pars.     Et  sequitur  pars 
secunJa, 

Ther  is  a  chanoun  of  religioun 
Amonges  us,  vvolde  infecte  al  a  toun 
Though  it  as  greet  were  as  was  Ninivee, 
Rome,   Alisaundre,    Troye,    and  othere 

three.  975 

His  sleightes  and  his  infinit  falsnesse 
Ther  coude  no  man  wryten,  as  I  gesse, 
Thogh  that  he  mighte  liven  a  thousand 

yeer. 
In    al    this   world   of    falshede   nis    his 

peer; 
For   in    his   termes   so    he    wolde    him 

winde,  980 

And  speke  his  wordes  in  so  sly  a  kinde, 
Whan  he  commune  shal  with  any  wight, 
That  he  \\o\  make  him  doten  anon  right. 
But  it  a  feend  be,  as  him-selven  is.      984 
Ful  many  a  man  hath  he  bigyled  er  this, 
And  wol,  if  that  he  live  may  a  whyle; 
And  yet  men  ryde  and  goon  ful  many  a 

myle 
Him  for  to  seke  and  have  his  aqueynt- 

aunce, 
Noght    knowinge    of    his    false    gover- 

naunce. 
And  if  yow  list  to  yeve  me  audience,  990 
I  wol  it  tellen  heer  in  your  presence. 
But  worshipful  chanouns  religious, 
Ne  demeth    nat    that    I    sclaundre    your 

hous, 
Al-though  my  tale  of  a  chanoun  be. 
Of  every  ordre  som  shrcwe  is,  parde,  995 
And  god  forbede  that  al  a  companye 
Sholde  rewe  a  singuler  mannes  folye. 


To    sclaundre     yow    is    no-thing     myn 

entente, 
But  tt)  correcten  that  is  mis  I  mente. 
This  tale  was  nat  only  told  for  yow,  1000 
But  eek   for   othere    mo;  ye   wool   wel 

how 
That,  among  Cristes  apostelles  twelve, 
Ther   nas   no  traytour    but    ludas  him- 

selve. 
Than   why  sholde  al  the  remenant  have 

blame 
That  giltlees  were?  by  yow  I    seye    the 

same.  1005 

Save  only  this,  if  ye  wol  herkne  me, 
If  any  ludas  in  your  covent  be, 
Remeveth  him  bitymes,  I  yow  rede, 
If  shame  or  los  may  causen  any  drede. 
And    beth    no-thing    displesed,    I    yow 

preye,  loio 

But  in  this  cas  herkneth  what  I  shal  seye. 

In  London  was   a  preest,  an  annue- 

leer. 
That    therin    dwelled    hadde     many    a 

yeer,  1014 

Which  was  so  plesaunt  and  so  servisable 
Unto  the  wyf,  wher-as  he  was  at  tal)le. 
That  she  wolde  sufifre  him  no-thing  for 

to  paye 
For  bord    ne  clothing,  wente  he  never 

so  gaye; 
And    spending-silver     hadde     he    right 

y-now.  1018 

Therof  no  fors;  I  wol  procede  as  now, 
And  telle  forth  my  tale  of  the  chanoun, 
That  broghte  this  preest  to  confusioun. 
This  false  chanoun  cam  up-on  a  day 
Unto   this    preestes   chambre,   wher    he 

lay, 
Biseching  him  to  lene  him  a  certeyn 
Of  gold,    and    he   wolde   quyte    it   him 

ageyn.  1025 

'  Lene  me  a  mark,'  quod  he,  '  but  dayes 

three, 
And  at  my  day  I  wol  it  quyten  thee. 
And  if  so  be  that  thou  me  fmde  fals. 
Another  day  do  hange  me  by  the  hals ! ' 
This  preest  him  took  a  mark,  and  that 

a  swysthe,  1030 

And    this    chanoun    him    thanked   ofte 

sylhe, 
And  took  his  leve,  and  wente  forth  his 

weye, 


720 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1033-1107. 


And    at    the    thridde   day    broghte    his 

moneye, 
And   to    the    preest    he    took    his   gold 

agayn, 
Wherof  this  preest  was  wonder  glad  and 

fayn.  1035 

'  Certes,'  quod  he,  '  no-thing  anoyeth 

me 
To  lene  a  man  a  noble,  or  two  or  three. 
Or  what  thing  were  in  my  possessioun, 
Whan  he  so  trewe  is  of  condicioun,   1039 
That  in  no  wyse  he  breke  wol  his  day; 
To  swich  a  man  I  can  never  seye  nay.' 
'  What !  '  quod  this  chanoun,  '  sholde 

I  be  untrewe? 
Nay,  that  were  thing  y-fallen  al  of-newe. 
Trouthe  is  a  thing  that  I  wol  ever  kepe 
Un-to    that   day   in   which   that   I   shal 

crepe  I045 

In-to  my  grave,  and  elles  god  forbede; 
Bileveth  this  as  siker  as  is  your  crede. 
God  thanke  I,  and   in  good  tyme    be  it 

sayd,  1048 

That  ther  was  never  man  yet  yvel  apayd 
For  gold  ne  silver  that  he  to  me  lente, 
Ne  never  falshede  in  myn  herte  I  mente. 
And  sir,'  quod  he,  'now  of  my  privetee, 
Sin  ye  so  goodlich  han  been  un-to  me. 
And  kythed  to  me  so  greet  gentiUesse, 
Somwhat  to  quyte  with  your  kindenesse, 
I  wol  yow  shewe,  and,  if  yow  list  to  lere, 
1  wol  yow  teche  pleynly  the  manere,  1057 
How  I  can  werken  in  philosophye. 
Taketh  good  heed,  ye  shul  wel  seen  at 

That  I  wol  doon  a  maistrie  er  I  go.'  1060 
'  Ye,'  quod  the  preest, '  ye,  sir,  and  wol 
ye  so  ? 

Marie  !  ther-of  I  pray  yow  hertely  ! ' 
'  At  your  comandement,  sir,  trewely,' 

Quod  the   chanoun,  '  and  elles  god  for- 
bede ! ' 
Lo,  how  this  theef  coude  his  servyse 
bede !  1065 

F"ul  sooth  it  is,  that  swich  profred   ser- 
vyse 

Stinketh,  as  witnessen  thise  olde  wyse; 

And  that  ful  sone  I  wol  it  verifye 

In  this  chanoun,  rote  of  al  trecherye. 

That    ever-more   delyt   hath    and    glad- 
nesse —  1070 

Swich  feendly  thoughtes  in  his  herte  im- 
presse  — 


How  Cristes  peple  he  may  to  meschief 

bringe ; 
God  kepe  us  from  his  fals  dissimulinge ! 
Noght   wiste    this   preest   with   whom 

that  he  delte, 
Ne   of    his   harm  cominge  he   no-thing 

felte.  1075 

O  sely  preest !     O  sely  innocent ! 
With  coveityse  anon  thou  shalt  be  blent ! 
O  gracelees,  ful  blind  is  thy  conceit, 
No-thing  ne  artow  war  of  the  deceit 
Which   that   this   fox  y-shapen  hath  to 

thee!  1080 

His  wyly  wrenches  thou  ne  mayst   nat 

flee 
Wherfor,  to  go  to  the  conclusioun 
That  refereth  to  thy  confusioun. 
Unhappy  man !   anon  I  wol  me  hye 
To  tellen  thyn  unwit  and  thy  folye,    10S5 
And    eek    the   falsnesse    of    that   other 

wrecche. 
As  ferforth    as    that   my   conning    may 

strecche. 
This  chanoun  was  my  lord,  ye  wolden 

wene? 
Sir   host,  in  feith,  and  by  the   hevenes 

queue, 
It  was  another  chanoun,  and  nat  he,  1090 
That  can  an  hundred  fold  more  subtiltee  ! 
He  hath  bitrayed  folkes  many  tyme; 
Of  his  falshede  it  dulleth  me  to  ryme. 
Ever  whan  that  I  speke  of  his  falshede. 
For    shame   of  him  my   chekes   wexen 

rede;  1095 

Algates,  they  biginnen  for  to  glowe, 
P^or  reednesse  have  I  noon,  right  wel  I 

knowe. 
In  my  visage;   for  fumes  dy verse 
Of    metals,  which  ye  han  herd  me  re- 

herce. 
Consumed  and  wasted  han  my  reednesse. 
Now  tak  heed  of  this  chanouns  cursed- 

nesse !  iioi 

'  Sir,'  quod  he  to  the  preest,  *  lat  your 

man  gon 
For  quik-silver,  that  we  it  hadde  anon; 
And    lat    him    bringen    ounces   two    or 

three; 
And  whan  he  comth,  as  faste  shul  ye  see 
A  wonder  thing,  which  saugh  never  er 

this.'  1 106 

'  Sir,'  quod  the  preest, '  it  shal  be  doon, 

y-wis.' 


lio8-n82.]  G.    THE  CIlANOUT^S   VEMANNES   TALE. 


721 


He    bad   his   servant    fecchen    him    this 

thing, 
And  he  al  redy  was  at  his  bidding, 
And    wentc    him    forth,    and    cam    anon 

agayn  11 10 

With  this  ciuik-silver,  soothly  for  to  sayn, 
And  took  thise  ounces  three  to  the  chan- 

oun; 
And  he  hem  leyde  fayre  and  wel  adoun, 
And  bad  the  servant  coles  for  to  bringe. 
That   he  anon  mighte  go  to  his  werk- 

inge.  1 1 15 

The  coles  right  anon  weren  y-fet, 
And  this  chanoun  took  out  a  crosselet 
Of  his  bosom,  and  shewed  it  the  preest. 
'  This  instrument,'  quod  he,  '  which  that 

thou  seest, 
Tak  in  thyn  hand,  and  put  thy-self  ther- 

inne  11 20 

Of  this  quik-silver  an  ounce,  and  heer 

biginne. 
In  the  name  of  Crist,  to  wexe  a  philoso- 

fre. 
Ther  been  ful  fewe,  whiche  that  I  wolde 

profre 
To    shewen    hem    thus    muche     of    my 

science. 
For  ye  shul  seen  heer,  by  experience. 
That  this  quik-silver  wol  I  mortifye  11 26 
Right   in   your   sighte    anon,  withouten 

lye, 
And  make  it  as  good  silver  and  as  fyn 
As  ther  is  any  in  your  purs  or  niyn. 
Or  elleswher,  and  make  it  malliaiile;  1130 
And  elles,  hoideth  me  fals  and  unable 
Amonges  folk  for  ever  to  appere  ! 
I  have  a  poudre  heer,  that  coste  me  dere, 
Shal  make  al  good,  for  it  is  cause  of  al 
My  conning,  which  that  I  yow  shewen 

shal.  1 1 35 

Voydeth  your  man,  and  lat  him  be  ther- 

oute. 
And  shet  the  dore,  whyls  we  been  aboute 
Our  privetee,  that  no  man  us  espye 
Whyls    that   we   werke   in   this    philoso- 

phye.' 
Al  as  he  bad,  fulfdled  was  in  dedc,    1 140 
This  ilke  servant  anon-right  out  yede. 
And  his  maister  shette  the  dore  anon. 
And  to  hir  labour  speedily  they  gon. 
This   preest,  at  this   cursed   chanouns 

bidding, 
Up-on  the  fyr  anon  sette  this  thing,  1 145 

3A 


And  blew  the   fyr,   and  bisied   him  ful 

faste ; 
And  this  chanoun  in-to  the  croslet  caste 
A  poudre,  noot  1  wher-of  that  it  was 
Y-maad,  other  of  chalk,  other  of  glas. 
Or  som-what  elles,  was  nat  worth  a  flye, 
To  blynde  with  the  preest;    and  bad  him 

hye  1 151 

The  coles  for  to  couchen  al  above 
The    croslet,    '  for,   in    tokening    I    thee 

love,' 
Quod  this  chanoun,  '  thyn  ovvene  hondes 

two 
Shul  werche  al  thing  which    that    shal 

heer  be  do.'  1 155 

'  Graunt  mercy,'  quod  the  preest,  and 

was  ful  glad. 
And  couched  coles  as  the  chanoun  bad. 
And    whyle    he   bisy  was,    this    feendly 

wrecche. 
This  fals  chanoun,  the   foule  feend  him 

fecche ! 
Out  of  his  bosom  took  a  bechen  cole,  1 160 
In  which  ful  subtilly  was  maad  an  hole. 
Anil  ther-in  put  was  of  silver  lymaille 
An  ounce,  and  stopped  was,  with-outen 

fayle. 
The  hole  with  wex,  to  kepe  the  lymail  in. 
And     understondeth,     that      this      false 

gin  1 1 65 

Was   nat   maad   ther,  but   it  was   maad 

bifore; 
And  othere  thinges  I  shal  telle  more 
Herafterward,  which    that  he   with  him 

broghte; 
Er  he  cam  ther,  him  to  l!_     e  he  thoghte. 
And    so    he    dide,    er    that    they    wente 

a-tvvinne;  1170 

Til   he    had    terved  him,  coude   he  not 

blinne. 
It  duUeth  me  whan  that  I  of  him  speke. 
On  his  falshede  fayn  wolde  I  me  wreke. 
If  I  wiste  how;    but  he  is  heer  and  ther  : 
He  is  so  variaunt,  he  abit  no-wher.    1 175 
But  taketh  heed  now,  sirs,  for  goddes 

love ! 
He  took  his  cole  of  which  I  spak  above, 
And  in  his  bond  he  baar  it  prively. 
And  whyls  the  preest  couchede  busily 
The  coles,  as  I  tolde  yow  er  this,        1180 
This    chanoun    seyde,  '  freend,    ye  doon 

amis; 
This  is  nat  couched  as  it  oghte  be; 


722 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1183-1255. 


But  sone  I  shal  amenden  it,'  quod  he. 

'  Now  lat  me  medle  therwith  but  a  whyle, 

For    of    yow    have    I    pitee,    by    seint 
Gyle!  1185 

Ye  been  right  hoot,  I  see  wel  how  ye 
swete, 

Have  heer  a  cloth,  and  wype  awey  the 
wete.' 

And   whyles  that  the  preest  wyped  his 
face, 

This  chanoun  took  his  cole  with  harde 
grace, 

And  leyde   it   above,  up-on   the  midde- 
ward  1 190 

Of  the  croslet,  and  blew  wel  afterward. 

Til  that  the  coles  gonne  faste  brenne. 
'  Now  yeve  us  drinlce,'  quod  the  chan- 
oun thenne, 

'  As  svvythe  al  shal  be  wel,  I  undertake ; 

Sitte     we     doun,    and    lat      us      mery 
make.'  1 195 

And  whan  that    this  chanounes  bechen 
cole 

Was  brent,  al  the   lymaille,  out  of  the 
hole, 

Into  the  croslet  fil  anon  adoun; 

And  so  it  moste  nedes,  by  resoun, 

Sin  it  so  even  aboven  couched  was;  1 200 

But   ther-of  wiste   the   preest   no-thing, 
alas ! 

He  demed  alle  the  coles  y-liche  good, 

For  of  the  sleighte  he  no-thing  under- 
stood. 

And  whan  this  alkamistre  saugh  his  tyme, 

'  Rys  up,'  quod  he,  '  sir  preest,  and  stond- 
eth  by  r  -    ^  1 205 

And  for  I  woof  wel  ingot  have  ye  noon, 

Goth,  walketh  forth,  and  bring  us  a  chalk- 
stoon; 

For  I  wol  make  oon  of  the  same  shap 

That  is  an  ingot,  if  I  may  han  hap. 

And  bringeth  eek  with  yow  a  bolle  or  a 
panne,  1210 

Ful  of  water,  and  ye  shul  see  wel  thanne 

How  that  our  bisinesse  shal  thryve  and 
preve. 

And  yet,  for  ye  shul  han  no  misbileve 

Ne  wrong  conceit  of  me  in  your  absence, 

I    ne   wol  nat   been   out   of  your  pres- 
ence, 1 21 5 

But   go   with   yow,  and  come  with  yow 
ageyn.' 

The  cliambre-dore,  shortly  for  to  seyn, 


They  opened  and  shette,  and  wente  hir 

weye. 
And   forth  with  hem  they  carieden  the 

keye,  1219 

And  come  agayn  with-outen   any  delay. 
What  sholde  I  tarien  al  the  longe  day? 
He  took  the  chalk,  and  shoop  it  in  the 

wyse 
Of  an  ingot,  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 

I  seye,  he  took  out  of  his  owene  sieve, 
A     teyne     of    silver    (yvele     mote    he 

cheve !)  1225 

Which  that  ne  was  nat  but  an  ounce  of 

weighte; 
And    taketh    heed    now    of    his    cursed 

sleighte ! 
He  shoop  his  ingot,  in  lengthe  and  eek 

in  brede, 
Of  this  teyne,  with-outen  any  drede,  1229 
So  slyly,  that  the  preest  it  nat  espyde; 
And  in  his  sieve  agayn  he  gan  it  hyde; 
And  fro  the  fyr  he  took  up  his  matere. 
And  in  thingot  putte  it  with  mery  chere, 
And  in  the  water-vessel  he  it  caste 
Whan  that  him  luste,  and  bad  the  preest 

as  faste,  1235 

'  Look  what  ther  is,  put  in  thyn  hand  and 

grope, 
Thow  finde  shalt  ther  silver,  as  I  hope; 
What,  devel  of  helle !  sholde  it  elles  be? 
Shaving  of  silver  silver  is,  pardee  !  ' 
He  putte  his  hond  in,  and  took   up   a 

teyne  1240 

Of  silver  fyn,  and  glad  in  every  veyne 
Was  this  preest,  whan  he  saugh  that  it 

was  so. 
'  Goddes  blessing,  and  his  modres  also, 
And  alle  halwes  have  ye,  sir  chanoun,' 
Seyde    this    preest,    '  and    I    hir    mali- 

soun,  1245 

But,  and  ye  vouche-sauf  to  techen  me 
This  noble  craft  and  this  subtilitee, 
I  wol  be  youre,  in  al  that  ever  I  may !  ' 
Quod  the   chanoun,  'yet  wol  I   make 

assay 
The   second   tyme,   that   ye  may   taken 

hede  1250 

And    been  expert   of  this,  and  in  your 

nede 
Another  day  assaye  in  myn  absence 
This  (lisciplyne  and  this  crafty  science. 
Lat  take  another  ounce,'  quod  he  tho, 
'  Of  (juik-silver,  with-outen  wordes  mo, 


1256-132S.]  G.    THE   CHANOUNS   YEMANNES  TALE. 


723 


And  do  ther-with  as  ye  han  doon  er  this 

With  that  other,  u  hicli  that  now  silver  is.' 

This  preest  him  bisieth  in  al  that  he 

can 
To  doon  as  this  chanoun,  this  cursed  man, 
Conianded    him,  and  faste    he    blew  the 

fyr,  1 260 

For  to  come  to  theffect  of  his  desyr. 
And    this    chanoun,  right    in    the    mene 

whyle, 
Al  redy  was,  the  preest  eft  to  bigyle. 
And,  for  a  countenance,  in  his  hande  he 

bar  I 264 

An  holwe  stikke  (tak  keep  and  be  war  !) 
In  the  ende  of  which  an  ounce,  and  na- 

more. 
Of  silver  lymail  put  was,  as  bifore 
Was  in  his  cole,  and  stopped  with  wex 

weel 
For  to  kepe  in  his  lymail  every  deel. 
And    vvhyl  this  preest  was  in    his   bisi- 

nesse,  1270 

This   chanoun  with   his  stikke  gan  him 

dresse 
To  him  anon,  and  his  pouder  caste  in 
As  he  did  er;    (the  devel  out  of  his  skin 
Him   terve,   I  pray   to  god,   for  his   fals- 

hede; 
For   he  was   ever    fals    in    thoght    and 

dede);  1275 

And  with  this  stikke,  above  the  croslet. 
That  was  ordeyned  with  that  false  get. 
He  stired  the  cules,  til  relente  gan 
The  wex  agayn  the  fyr,  as  every  man. 
But  it  a  fool  be,  woot  wel  it  mot  nede,  1 280 
And  al  that  in  the  stikke  was  out  yede, 
And  in  the  croslet  hastily  it  fel. 

Now  gode  sirs,  what  wol  ye  bet  than 

wel? 
Whan  that  this  preest  thus  was  bigyled 

ageyn. 
Supposing   noght    but    trouthe,    soth    to 

seyn,  1285 

He  was  so  glad,  that  I  can  nat  expresse 
In   no   manere  his  mirthe  and  his  glad- 

nesse; 
And  to  the  chanoun  he  profred  eftsone 
Body  and  good;  *ye,'  quod  the  chanoun 

sone, 
'Though  povre  I  be,  crafty  thou  shalt  me 

fmde;  1290 

I  warne  thee,  yet  is  ther  more  bihinde. 
Is  ther  any  coper  her-inne?'  seydc  he. 


'  Ye,'  quod  the   preest,  '  sir,  I  trowe  wel 

ther  be.' 
'  EUes  go  by  us  som,  and  that  as  swythc, 
Now,  gode  sir,  go  forth  thy  wey  and  hy 

the.'  1295 

He  wente  his  wey,  and  with  the  coper 

cam. 
And  this  chanoun  it  in  his  handes  nam, 
And   of    that    coper  weyed    out    but    an 

ounce. 
Al  to  simple  is  my  tonge  to  pronounce, 
As    ministre    of    my    wit,    the    doulile- 

nesse  ijOO 

Of  this  chanoun,  rote  of  al  cursednesse. 
He  senied  freendly   to   hem  that  knewe 

him  noght, 
But  he  was  feendly  bothe  in  herte  and 

thoght. 
It  werieth  me  to  telle  of  his  falsnesse, 
And  nathelees  yet  wol  I  it  expresse,  1305 
To  thentente  that  men  may  be  war  therby, 
And  for  noon  other  cause,  trewely. 

He  putte  his  ounce    of   coper   in    the 

croslet, 
And  on  the  fyr  as  swythe  he  hath  it  set, 
And  caste  in  poudre,  and  made  the  preest 

to  blowe,  1 3 10 

And  in  his  werking  for  to  stoupe  lowe, 
As  he  dide  er,  and  al  nas  but  a  lape; 
Right  as  him  liste,  the  preest  he  made 

his  ape; 
And  afterward  in  the  ingot  he  it  caste. 
And    in    the    panne    putte    it    at    the 

laste  1315 

Of  water,    and    in    he  putte  his  owene 

hond. 
And  in  his  sieve  (as  ye  hiforn-hond 
Herde  me  telle)  he  hadde  a  silver  teyne. 
He  slyly  took  it  out,  this  cursed  heyne  — 
Unwiting      this      preest     of      his     false 

craft —  1320 

And    in   the   pannes   botme   he   hath   it 

laft; 
And  in  the  water  rombled  to  and  fro. 
Anil  wonder  prively  too'K  up  also 
The   coper   teyne,    noght   knowing   this 

preest, 
And    hidde    it,    and    him    hente    by   the 

breest,  1325 

And  to  him  spak,  and  thus  seyde  in  his 

game, 
'  Stoupeth  adoun,by  god,  ye  be  to  ])lame, 
Ilelpeth  me  now,  as  I  dide  yow  whyl-er. 


724 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1329- I 396. 


Putte  in  your  hand,  and  loketh  what  is 

then' 
This  preest  took  up  this   silver  teyne 

anon,  ^33^ 

And  thanne  seyde  the  chanoun,  *  lat  us 

gon 
With  thise  three  teynes,  which  that  we 

han  wroght, 
To  som  goldsmith,  and  wite  if  they  been 

oght. 
For,  by  my  feith,  I  nolde,  for  myn  hood, 
But-if  that    they   were   silver,    fyn    and 

good,  1335 

And  that  as  swythe  preved  shal  it  be.' 
Un-to  the  goldsmith  with  thise  teynes 

three 
They  wente,  and  putte  thise   teynes   in 

assay 
To  fyr  and  hamer;   mighte  no  man  sey 

nay, 
But    that    they    weren    as    hem    oghte 

be.  1340 

This  sotted  preest,  who  was  gladder 

than  he? 
Was  never  brid  gladder  agayn  the  day, 
Ne  nightingale,  in  the  sesoun  of  May, 
Nas  never  noon  that  luste  bet  to  singe; 
Ne  lady  lustier  in  carolinge  '345 

Or  for  to  speke  of  love   and  womman- 

hede, 
Ne  knight  in  armes  to  doon  an  hardy 

dede 
To  stonde  in  grace  of  his  lady  dere. 
Than  had  this  preest  this  sory  craft  to 

lere; 
And  to  the  chanoun  thus  he  spak  and 

seyde,  1350 

'  For  love  of  god,  that  for  us  alle  deyde. 
And  as  I  may  deserve  it  un-to  yow. 
What    shal    this    receit    coste?     telleth 

now ! ' 
'  By  our  lady,'  quod  this  chanoun, '  it  is 

dere, 
I  warne  yow   wel;     for,   save    I   and    a 

frere,  1355 

In  Engelond  ther  can  no  man  it  make.' 
'  No  fors,'  quod  he, '  now,  sir,  for  goddes 

sake, 
What  shal  I  paye?  telleth  me,  I  preye.' 

'  Y-wis,'  quod  he,  'it  is  ful  dere,  I  seye; 
Sir,  at  o  word,  if  that  thee  list  it  have,  1360 
Ye  shul  paye  fourty  pound,   so  god  me 

save! 


And,  nere  the  freendship  that  ye  dide  er 

this 
To  me,  ye  sholde  paye  more,  y-wis.' 
This  preest  the  somme  of  fourty  pound 

anon 
Of   nobles    fette,   and    took    hem    ever- 

ichon  1365 

To  this  chanoun,  for  this  ilke  receit; 
Al    his    werking    nas    l^ut    fraude    and 

deceit. 
*  Sir  preest,'  he  seyde,  '  I  kepe  han  no 

loos 
Of  my  craft,  for  I  wolde   it   kept  were 

cloos ; 
And  as  ye  love  me,  kepeth  itsecree;    1370 
For,  and  men  knewe  al  my  subtilitee. 
By  god,  they  wolden  han  so  greet  envye 
To  me,  by-cause  of  my  philosophye, 
I  sholde  be  deed,  ther  were  non  other 

weye.' 
'  God    it   forbede ! '    quod   the   preest, 

'  what  sey  ye?'  1375 

Yet  hadde  I  lever  spenden  al  the  good 
Which  that  I   have   (and   elles  wexe  I 

wood !  ) 
Than  that  ye  sholden  falle  in  swich  mes- 

cheef.' 
'  For  your  good  wil,  sir,  have  ye  right 

good  preef,' 
Quod  the  chanoun,  '  and  far-wel,  grant 

mercy ! '  1380 

He  wente  his  wey  and  never  the  preest 

him  sy 
After  that  day;   and  whan  that  this  preest 

sholde 
Maken  assay,  at  swich  tyme  as  he  wolde, 
Of  this  receit,  far-wel !  it  wolde  nat  be  ! 
Lo,  thus  byiaped  and  bigyled  washe  !  1 385 
Thus  maketh  he  his  introduccioun 
To  bringe  folk  to  hir  destruccioun. — 

Considereth,  sirs,  how  that,  in  ech  es- 

taat, 
Bitwixe  men  and  gold  ther  is  debaat 
So     ferforth,     that     unnethes     is      ther 

noon.  1390 

This  multiplying  blent  so  many  oon, 
That  in  good  feith  I  trowe  that  it  he 
The  cause  grettest  of  swich  scarsetee. 
Philosophres  speken  so  mistily 
In   this   craft,    that    men   can    nat   come 

therby,  '395 

For  any  wit  that  men  han  now  a-dayes. 


I397-I47J-J 


(;.     rilK  CIIANOUNS   YKMANNES  TALE. 


725 


They  mowe  wel  chiteren,  as  doon  thise 

laves, 
And    in    her    tcrnics    sette   hir    lust    and 

peync, 
But  to  hir  purpus  sluil  they  never  atteyne, 
A    man    may   lightly    Icrne,    if    he    have 

aiis;ht,  1400 

To    multii)lye,  and    bringe    his    good    to 

nausjht ! 
Lo  !  swich  a  lucre  is  in  this  lusty  game, 
A    mannes    niirthe    it    wol    torne    un-to 

grame, 
And  enipten  also  grete  and  hevy  purses. 
And     maken     folk     for    to     purchasen 

curses  1405 

(  )r  hem,  that  han  hir  good  therto  y-lent. 
O !  f y  !  for  shame !   they  that  han  been 

brent. 
Alias!  can  they  nat  flee  the  fyres  hete? 
Ye  that  it  use,  I  rede  ye  it  lete. 
Lest  ye  lese  al ;    for  bet  than  never  is 

late.  1410 

Never  to  thryve  were  to  long  a  date. 
Though   ye  prolle  ay,  ye  shul  it  never 

finde; 
Ye  been  as  bolde  as  is  Bayard  the  blinde, 
That  blundreth  forth,  and   peril  casteth 

noon; 
He  is  as  bold  to  renne  agayn  a  stoon  1415 
As  for  to  goon  bcsydes  in  the  weye. 
So  faren  ye  that  multiplye,  I  seye. 
If  that  your  yen  can  nat  seen  aright, 
Loke  that  your  minde  lakke  nought  his 

sight. 
For,  though  ye  loke  never  so  brode,  and 

stare,  1420 

Ye  shul  nat  winne  a  myte  on  that  chaf- 

fare. 
But  wasten  al  that  ye  may  rape  and  renne. 
Withdrawe  the  fyr,  lest  it  to  faste  brenne; 
Medlcth  na-more  with  that  art,  I  mene, 
For,  if  ye  doon,  your  thrift  is  goon  ful 

clene.  1425 

And   right  as  swythe  I   wol  yow  tellen 

here. 
What  philosophres  seyn  in  this  matere. 
Lo,   thus  seith  Arnold    of   the   Newe 

Toun, 
As  his  Rosarie  maketh  mencioun; 
He    seith    right    thus,    with-outen     any 

lye,  1430 

'Ther  may  no  man  Mercuric  mortifye. 
But  it  be  with  his  brother  knowleching. 


How  that  he,  which  that  first  seyde  this 

thing, 
( )f  philosophres  fader  was,  Hermes; 
He  seith,  how  that  the  dragoun,  doute- 

lees,  1435 

Nc  deyelh  nat,  but-if  that  he  be  slayn 
With  his  brother;    and  that  is  for  to  sayn. 
By  the  dragoun.  Mercuric  and  noon  other 
He  understood;    anil   brimstoon   by   his 

brother, 
That  out  of  sol  and  Ittiia  were  y-drawe. 
And  thcrfor,'  seyde  he,  '  tak  heed  to  my 

savve,  1441 

Let  no  man  bisy  him  this  art  for  to  scche, 
But-if  tliat  he  thentencioun  and  spcclie 
Of  philosophres  undcrstonde  can; 
And  if  he  do,  he  is  a  Icwed  man.        1445 
¥or  this  science  and  this  conning,'  quod 

he, 
'  Is  of  the  secree  of  secrees,  parde.' 
Also  ther  was  a  disciple  of  Plato, 
That  on  a  tyme  seyde  his  maister  to. 
As  his  book  Senior  wol  here  witnesse. 
And  this  was  his  demande  in  soothfast- 

nesse:  1 45 1 

'  Tel  me  the  name  of  the  privy  stoon? ' 

And  Plato  answerde  unto  him  anoon, 
'Tak  the  stoon  that  Titanos  men  name.' 
'  Which  is  that?  '  quod  he.     '  Magnesia 

is  the  same,'  '455 

Seyde  Plato.     '  Ye,  sir,  and  is  it  thus? 
This  is  ignotiim  per  igriotius. 
What    is    Magnesia,    good    sir,    I    yow 

preye?' 
'  It  is  a  water  that  is  maad,  I  seye. 
Of  elementes  foure,'  quod  Plato.        1460 
'  Tel  me  the  rote,  good  sir,'  quod  he  tho, 
'Of  that  water,  if  that  it  be  your  wille?' 
'Nay,  nay,'  quod  Plato, '  certe  in,  that  I 

nille. 
The  philosophres  sworn  were  everichoon. 
That    they   sholden    discovere    it    un-to 

noon,  1465 

Ne  in  no  book  it  wryte  in  no  manere; 
For  un-to  Crist  it  is  so  leef  and  dere 
That  he  wol  nat  that  it  discovered  be, 
But  wher  it  lyketh  to  his  dcitee 
Man  for  tenspyre,  and  eek  for  to  defende 
Whom  that  him  lyketh;    lo,   this   is  the 

ende.'  147 1 

Thanne  conclude  I  thus;    sith  god  of 

hevene 
Ne  wol  nat  that  the  philosophres  nevene 


726 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES, 


[1474-1481.    1-49. 


How  tliat  a  man  shal  come  un-to  this 

stoon, 
I  rede,  as  for  the  beste,  late  it  goon.  1475 
For  who-so  xiiaketh  god  his  adversarie, 
As  for  to  werken  any  thing  in  contrarie 


Of  his  wil,  certes,  never  shal  he  thryve, 

Thogh  that  he  multiplye  terme  of  his  lyve. 

And  ther  a  poynt;    for  endeil  is  my  tale; 

God  sonde  every  trewe  man  bote  of  his 

bale! — Amen.  1481 


Here  is  ended  llie  Chanou7is  Yernannes  Tale. 


GROUP   H. 


THE   MANCIPLE'S  PROLOGUE. 


Here  folweth  the  Prologe  of  the  Matin- 
ciples   Tale, 

WiTE  ye  nat  vvher  ther  stant  a  litel  toun 
Which  that  y-cleped  is  Bob-up-and-doun, 
Under  the  Blee,  in  Caunterbury  weye? 
Ther  gan  our  hoste  for  to  lape  and  pleye, 
And  seyde,  '  sirs,  what !  Dun  is  in  the 

myre !  5 

Is  ther  no  man,  for  preyere  ne  for  hyre, 
That  vvol  awake  our  felawe  heer  bihinde? 
A  theef  mighte  him  ful  lightly  robbe  and 

binde. 
See  how  he   nappeth !    see,  for   cokkes 

bones, 
As  he  wol  falle  from  his  hors  at  ones.   10 
Is  that  a  cook  of  Londoun,  with  mes- 

chaunce? 
Do  him  come  forth,  he  knoweth  his  pen- 

aunce, 
For  he  shal  telle  a  tale,  by  my  fey ! 
Al-though  it  he.  nat  worth  a  betel  hey. 
Awake,  thou  cook,'  quod  he,  'god  yeve 

thee  sorwe,  15 

What  eyleth  thee  to  slepe  by  the  morwe? 
Hastovv   had    fleen    al   night,   or   artow 

dronke. 
Or   hastow    with   som    quene    al    night 

y-swonke, 
So  that  thou  mayst  nat  holden  up  thyn 

heed?' 
This  cook,  that  was  ful  pale  and  no- 
thing reed,  20 
Seyde    to    our  host,  '  so  god  my  soule 

blesse. 
As  ther  is  falle  on  me  swich  hevinesse, 
Noot  I  nat  why,  that  me  were  lever  slepe 
Than  the  beste  galoun  wyn  in  Chepe.' 


*  Wei,'  quod  the  maunciple,  'if  it  may 
doon  ese  25 

To  thee,  sir  cook,  and  to  no  wight  dis- 
plese 

Which  that  heer  rydeth  in  this  companye, 

And  that  our  host  wol,  of  his  curteisye, 

I  wol  as  now  excuse  thee  of  thy  tale; 

For,  in  good  feith,  thy  visage  is  ful  pale, 

Thyn  yen  daswen  eek,  as  that  me  think- 
eth,  31 

And  wel  I  woot,  thy  breeth  ful  soure 
stinketh. 

That  sheweth  wel  thou  art  not  wel  dis- 
posed ; 

Of  me,  certein,  thou  shalt  nat  been 
y-glosed. 

Se  how  he  ganeth,  lo,  this  dronken  wight. 

As  though  he  wolde  us  swolwe  anon- 
right.  36 

Hold  cloos  thy  mouth,  man,  by  thy  fader 
kin! 

The  devel  of  helle  sette  his  foot  ther-in  ! 

Thy  cursed  breeth  infecte  wol  us  alle; 

Fy,  stinking  swyn,  fy !  foule  moot  thee 
falle !  40 

A  !  taketh  heed,  sirs,  of  this  lusty  man. 

Now,  swete  sir,  wol  ye  lusten  atte  fan? 

Ther-to  me  thinketh  ye  been  wel  y- 
shape ! 

I  trowe  that  ye  dronken  han  wyn  ape, 

And  that  is  whan  men  pleyen  with  a 
straw.'  45 

Aud  with  this  speche  the  cook  vvex 
wrooth  and  wraw. 

And  on  the  maunciple  he  gan  nodde  faste 

For  lakke  of  speche,  and  doun  the  hors 
him  caste, 

Wher  as  he  lay,  til  that  men  up  him  took; 


50-II0.] 


II.    THE   MAUNCIPLKS  TALE. 


727 


This  was  a  fayr  chivachee  of  a  cook  !  50 
Alias!   he  nadde  hoKlc  him  by  his  ladcl ! 
And,  er  tliat  he  agayn  were  in  his  sadel, 
Ther  was  greet  showving  bothe  to  and 

fro, 
To  lifte  him  up,  and  muchel  care  and  wo, 
So  unweldy  was  this  sory  palled  gost.   55 
And  to  the  maunciple  thanne  spak  our 

host, 
'  By-cause  drink  hath  doniinacioun 
Upon  this  man,  by  my  savacioun 
I  trowe  he  le«edly  wolde  telle  his  tale. 
For,   were    it    vvyn,   or   old    or    moysty 

ale,  60 

That  he  hath  dronke,  he  speketh  in  his 

nose, 
And  fneseth  faste,  and  eek  he  hath  the 

pose. 
He  hath  also  to  do  more  than  y-nough 
To  kepe  him  and  his  capel  out  of  slough; 
And,    if    he    falle    from    his    capel    eft- 

sone,  65 

Than  shul  we  alle  have  y-nough  to  done, 

In  lifting  up  his  hevy  dronken  cors. 

Telle  on  thy  tale,  of  him  make  I  no  fors. 

But  yet,  maunciple,  in  feith  thou  art  to 

nyce. 
Thus  openly  repreve  him  of  his  vyce.  70 
Another  day  he  wol,  peraventure, 
Reclayme  thee,  and  bringe  thee  to  lure; 
I  mene,  he  speke  wol  of  smale  thinges, 
As  for  to  pinchen  at  thy  rekeninges, 
That   wer    not   honeste,    if    it    cam    to 

preef.'  75 

'No,'  quod  the  maunciple,  'that  were 

a  greet  mescheef  ! 
So  mighte  he  lightly  bringe  me  in  the 

snare. 
Yet  hadde  I  lever  payen  for  the  mare 
Which  he  rit  on,  than  he  sholde  with  me 

stryve; 


wratthe    him,    al-so    mute    I 
!  80 

1    seyde    it    in    my 


I  have  heer, 


I    wol    nat 

thryve  ! 
That    that    I    spak, 

bourde; 
And  wite  ye  what  ? 

gourde, 
A  draught  of  wyn,  ye,  of  a  rype  grape, 
And  right    anon    ye   shul   seen   a   good 

lape. 
This    cook    shal    drinke    ther-of,    if    I 

may;  85 

Up  peyne  of  deeth,  he  wol  nat  seye  me 

nay ! ' 
And  certeinly,  to  tellen  as  it  was, 
Of    this   vessel   the   cook    drank    faste, 

alias ! 
What    neded   him?    he   drank   y-nough 

biforn. 
And    whan   he   hadde   pouped    in    this 

horn,  90 

To  the  maunciple  he  took   the  gourde 

agayn ; 
And  of  that  drinke  the  cook  was  wonder 

fayn, 
And  thanked  him  in  swich  wyse  as  he 

coude. 
Than  gan  our  host  to  laughen  wonder 

loude, 
And  seyde, '  I  see  wel,  it  is  necessarie,  95 
Wher  that  we  goon,  good  drink  we  with 

us  carie; 
For  that  wol  turne  rancour  and  disese 
Tacord    and    love,   and   many   a   wrong 

apese. 
O  thou  Bachus,  y-blessed  be  thy  name, 
That  so  canst  turnen  ernest  in-to  game  ! 
Worship  and  thank  be  to  thy  deitee  !  loi 
Of  that  matere  ye  gete  na-more  of  me. 
Tel  on  thy  tale,  maunciple,  I  thee  preye.' 


'  Wel,    sir,'   quod  he, 

what  I  seyc'—id  by  wordes  bolde, 
Thtisendeth  the  Frologe  of  the  Ma- -l"^  had  doon  hir  Iccherye, 
i  shame  antl  to  gret  vilcinye; 

him  ofte,  he  saugh  it  with  his 

261 
THE    MAUNCIPLES-bus  gan  aweyward  for  to  wryen, 


Here  biginneth  the  Maunciples  Tale  of 
the  Croxve. 

Whan  Phebus  dwelled  here  in  this  erthe 
adoun,  105 

As  olde  bokes  maken  mencioun, 


loughte  his  sorweful   herte  brast 
He  vavo; 
In  jowe  he  bente,  and  sette  ther-inne  a 

flo, 
III  in  his  ire  his  wyf  thanne  hath  he 
Sltslayn.  265 

.  is  theffect,  ther  is  na-more  to  sayn  ; 


728 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[111-188, 


And  many  another  noble  worthy  dede 
He  with  his  bowe  wroghte,  as  men  may 
rede. 
Pleyen  he  coude  on  every  minstralcye, 
And  singen,  that  it  was  a  melodye, 
To  heren  of  his  clere  vois  the  soun.    115 
Certes  the  l<ing  of  Thebes,  Amphioun, 
That  with  his  singing  walled  that  citee, 
Coude  never  singen  half  so  wel  as  he. 
Therto  he  was  the  semelieste  man 
That    is    or   was,   sith    that    the   world 
bigan.  120 

What  nedeth  it  his  fetures  to  discryve? 
For  in  this  world  was  noon  so  fair  on 

lyve. 
He  was  ther-with  fulfild  of  gentillesse, 
Of  honour,  and  of  parfit  worthinesse. 
This  Phebus,  that  was  flour  of  bachel- 
rye,  125 

As  wel  in  fredom  as  in  chivalrye. 
For  his  desport,  in  signe  eek  of  victorie 
Of  Phitoun,  so  as  telleth  us  the  storie, 
Was  wont  to  beren  in  his  hand  a  bowe. 
Now  had   this  Phebus  in  his  hous   a 
crowe,  130 

Which  in  a  cage  he  fostred  many  a  day, 
And  taughte  it  speken,  as  men  teche  a 

lay. 
Whyt  was  this  crowe,  as  is  a  snow-whyt 

swan. 
And  countrefete  the  speche  of  every  man 
He    coude,    whan    he    sholde     telle    a 
tale.  135 

Ther-with  in  al  this  world  no  nightingale 
Ne  coude,  by  an  hondred  thousand  deel, 
Singen  so  wonder  merily  and  weel. 
Now  had  this  Phebus  in  his   hous  a 
wyf,  139 

Which  that  he  lovede  more  than  his  lyf, 

Hastow    had    tleei. 

n     ^'T^^'    -.u  ■  hir  reverence, 

Or   hastow   with   som    quei.,}j^|  g^yj^ 


y-swonke. 


kept  hir 


So  that  thou  mayst  nat  holden 

heed?'  ^       . 

This  cook,  that  was  ful  pale  .      j  .^ 

thing  reed,  .^^y 

Seyde    to    our  host,  '  so  god   my     ' 
blesse,  ^    , 

As  ther  is  falle  on  me  swich  hevinessi 

Noot  I  nat  why,  that  me  were  lever  s'gj.. 

Than  the  beste  galoun  wyn  in  Chepe. 


And  trewely,  the  labour  is  in  vayn       150 

To  kepe  a  shrewe,  for  it  wol  nat  be. 

This  holde  I  for  a  verray  nycetee, 

To  spille  labour,  for  to  kepe  wyves; 

Thus  writen  olde  clerkes  in  hir  lyves. 
But  now  to  purpos,  as  I  first  bigan:  155 

This  worthy  Phebus  dooth    all    that   he 
can 

To   plesen  hir,  weninge   by  swich   ple- 
saunce. 

And    for    his  manhede   and   his   gover- 
naunce. 

That  no  man  sholde  han  put  him  from 
hir  grace. 

But  god  it  woot,  ther  may  no  man  em- 
brace 1 60 

As  to  destreyne  a  thing,  which  that  na- 
ture 

Hath  naturelly  set  in  a  creature. 
Tak  any  brid,  and  put  it  in  a  cage. 

And  do  al  thyn  entente  and  thy  corage 

To   fostre   it    tendrely   with    mete    and 
drinke,  165 

Of  alle  deyntees  that  thou  canst  bithinke, 

And  keep  it  al-so  clenly  as  thou  may; 

Al-though  his  cage  of  gold  be  never  so 

gay, 

Yet  hath  this  brid,  by  twenty  thousand 

fold. 
Lever  in  a  forest,  that  is  rude  and  cold, 
Gon  ete  wormes  and   swich  wrecched- 

nesse.  171 

For  ever  this  brid  wol  doon  his  bisinesse 
To  escape  out  of  his  cage,  if  he  may; 
His  libertee  this  brid  desireth  ay. 

Lat  take  a  cat,  and  fostre  him  wel  with 

milk,  17c 

And  tendre  flesh,  and  make  his  couche 

of  silk, 
And  lat  him  seen  a  mous  go  by  the  wal; 
Anon  he  weyveth  milk,  and  flesh,  and  al. 
And  every  deyntee  that  is  in  that  hous, 
Swich  appetyt  hath  he  to  ete  a  mous. 
Lo,  here  hath  lust  his  dominacioun,    181 
And  appetyt  flenieth  discrecioun. 

A  she-wolf  hath  also  a  vileins  kinde; 
The  lewedeste  wolf  that  she  may  finde. 
Or  leest  of  reputacion  wol  she  take,    185 
In  tyme  whan  hir  lust  to  han  a  make. 
Alle  thise  ensamples  speke  I  by  thise 

men 
That    been    untrewe,    and   no-thing   by 

wommen. 


1 89-266.  J 


II.     THE    MAUNCIl'LES   TALE. 


729 


For  men  liaii  ever  a  likeruus  aijjietyt 
On  lower  tliinjj  to  parfourne  liir  delyt  190 
Tlian   on    hir  wyvcs,    be    they    never    so 

faire, 
Ne  never  so  trewe,  ne  so  debonjiire. 
Flesh  is  so  newefangel,  with  ineschauncc, 
That  we  ne  conne  in  nu-thing  han  ple- 

saunce 
That  souneth  in-to  vertu  any  vvhyle.    195 
This  Pliebus,  which  that  thoghte  upon 

no  gyle, 
Deceyvecl  was,  for  al  his  lolitee; 
For  under  him  another  hackle  she, 
A  man  of  litel  reputacioun,  199 

Noght  worth  to  Phebus  in  comparisoun. 
The  more  harm  is;    it  happeth  oftc  so, 
Of  which  ther  cometh  muchel  harm  and 

wo. 
And  so  bifel,  whan  Phel:)us  was  absent. 
His  wyf  anon  hath  for  hir  leniman  sent, 
Hir    lemman?    certes,  this  is  a   knavish 

speche !  205 

Foryeveth  it  me,  and  that  I  yow  biseche. 

The  wyse  Plato  seith,  as  ye  mey  rede, 
The  word  mot    nede  accorde  with    the 

detle. 
If  men  shal  telle  proprely  a  thing. 
The  word  mot  cosin  be  to  the  werking. 
I  am  a  boistous  man  right  thus,  seye  I, 
Ther  nis  no  difference,  trewely,  212 

Bitwixe  a  wyf  that  is  of  heigh  degree, 
If  of  hir  body  dishonest  she  be. 
And  a  povre  wenche,  other  than  this  — 
If  it  so  l)e,  they  uerke  bothe  amis —  216 
But  that  the  gentile,  in  estaat  above. 
She  shal  be  clejied  his  lady,  as  in  love; 
And  for  that  other  is  a  povre  womman. 
She  shal   be  cleped  his  wenche,  or  his 

lemman.  220 

And,   god    it    woot,    myn    owene    dere 

brother, 
Men  leyn  that  oon  as  lowe  as  lyth  that 

other. 
Right  so,  bitwixe  a  titlelees  tiraunt 
And  an  outlawe,  or  a  theef  erraunt,     224 
The  same  I  seye,  ther  is  no  difference. 
To  Alisaundre  told  was  this  sentence; 
That,  for  the  tyrant  is  of  gretter  might. 
By  force   of  meynee  for  to  sleen  doun- 

right. 
And  brennen  hous  and  boom,  and  make 

al  plain, 
Lo  !  therfor  is  he  cleped  a  capitain;   230 


.•\nd,    for    the   outlawe    hath    but    smal 

meynee. 
And  may  nat  doon  so  greet  an  harm  as 

he, 
Ne  bringe  a  contree   to  so   greet  mes- 

cheef, 
Men  clepen  him  an  outlawe  or  a  theef. 
15ut,  for  I  am  a  man  nt)glit  textuel,      235 
1  \vo\  noght  telle  of  textes  never  a  ilel; 
I  wol  go  to  my  tale,  as  1  bigan. 
Whan     Phebus    wyf    had    sent     for    hir 

lemman. 
Anon  they  wroghten  al  hir  lust  volage. 
The  whyte  crowe,  that  heng  ay  in  the 

cage,  240 

Biheld  hir  werk,  and  seyde  never  a  word. 
And  whan  that  hoom  was  come  Phebus, 

the  lord, 
This    crowe    sang    '  cokkow !     cokkow ! 

cokkow  !  ' 
'  What,    brid  ?  '    quod    Pheljus,    '  what 

song  singestow? 
Ne  were  thow  v/ont  so  merily  to  singe 
That  to  myn  herte  it  was  a  reioisinge  246 
To  here  thy  vois?   alias!   what  song  is 

this?' 
'  By  god,'  quod  he,  '  I  singe  nat  amis; 
Phebus,'    quod    he,   '  for    al    thy   worthi- 

nesse,  249 

For  al  thy  beautee  and  thy  gentilesse, 
For  al  thy  song  and  al  thy  minstralcye, 
For  al  thy  waiting,  blered  is  thyn  ye 
With  oon  of  litel  reputacioun, 
Noght  worth  to  thee,  as  in  comparisoun. 
The  mountance   of  a  gnat;    so   mote    I 

thryve !  ^  255 

For  on   thy  bed  thy  wyf  I  saugh  him 

swyve.' 
What  wol  ye  more?  the  crowe  anon 

him  tolde, 
By  sadde  tokenes  and  by  wordes  bolde, 
How  that  his  wyf  had  doon  hir  lecherye, 
II im  to  gret  shame  and  to  gret  vileinye; 
And  tolde  him  ofte,  he  saugh  it  with  his 

yen.  261 

This  Phebus  gan  aweywanl  for  to  wryen, 
Him    thoughte  his  sorweful   herte  brast 

a-two; 
His  bowe  he  bente,  and  sette  ther-inne  a 

flo, 
And  in  his  ire  his  wyf  thanne  hath  he 

slayn.  265 

This  is  theffect,  ther  is  na-more  to  sayn  ; 


730 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[267-343- 


Eor  sorwe  of  which  he  brak  his  minstral- 

cye, 
Bothe  harpe,  and  lute,  and  giterne,  and 

sautrye; 
And  eek  he  brak  his  arwes  and  his  bowe. 
And    after    that,    thus    spak    he    to    the 

crowe :  270 

'  Traitour,'    quod   he,   '  with   tonge  of 

scorpioun, 
Thou  hast  me  broght  to  my  confusioun  ! 
Alias !   that  I  was  wroght  !  why  nere  I 

deed  ? 
O  dere  wyf,  o  gemme  of  lustiheed, 
That   were   to   me   so   sad   and   eek   so 

trewe,  275 

Now  lystow  deed,  with  face  pale  of  hewe, 
Ful  giltelees,  that  dorste  I  swere,  y-wis ! 
O  rakel  hand,  to  doon  so  foule  amis ! 
O  trouble  wit,  o  ire  recchelees, 
That  unavysed  smytest  giltelees  !  2S0 

O  wantrust,  ful  of  fals  suspecioun. 
Where  was  thy  wit  and  thy  discrecioun? 
O  every  man,  be-war  of  rakelnesse, 
Ne    trowe    no-thing   with-outen    strong 

witnesse; 
Smyt  nat  to  sone,  er  that  we  witen  why. 
And  beeth  avysed  wel  and  sobrely       286 
Er  ye  doon  any  execucioun, 
Up-on  your  ire,  for  suspecioun. 
Alias !   a  thousand  folk  hath  rakel  ire 
Fully  fordoon,  and   broght  hem  in  the 

mire.  290 

Alias  !  for  sorwe  I  wol  my-selven  slee  ! ' 

And    to    the    crowe,   'o    false    theef!' 

seyde  he, 
'  I  wol  thee  quyte^non  thy  false  tale  ! 
Thou  songe  whylom  lyk  a  nightingale; 
Now  shaltow,  false  theef,  thy  song  for- 

gon,  295 

And  eek  thy  whyte  fetheres  everichon, 
Ne  never  in  al  thy  lyf  ne  shaltou  speke. 
Thus    shal     men    on    a    traitour    been 

awreke ; 
Thou   and    thyn  of-spring  ever  shul  be 

blake, 
Ne  never  swete  noise  shul  ye  make,    300 
But  ever  crye  agayn  tempest  and  rayn. 
In  tokeninge  that  thurgh  thee  my  wyf  is 

slayn.' 
And  to  the  crowe  he  stirte,  and  that  anon, 
And  pulled  his  whyte  fetheres  everichon. 
And  made  him  blak,  and  refte  him  al  his 

song,  305 


And  eek  his  speche,  and  out  at  dore  him 

slong 
Un-to  the  devel,  which  I  him  bitake; 
And     for    this    caas    ben    alle    crowes 

blake.  — 
Lordings,    by    this    ensample    I    yow 

preye, 
Beth    war,   and    taketh    kepe    what    I 

seye :  310 

Ne  telleth  never  no  man  in  your  lyf 
How   that  another  man  hath  dight    his 

wyf; 
He  wol  yow  haten  mortally,  certeyn. 
Daun  Salomon,  as  wyse  clerkes  seyn, 
Techeth    a    man    to    kepe     his     tonge 

wel;  315 

But  as  I  seyde,  I  am  noght  texuel. 
But  nathelees,  thus  taughte  me  my  dame  : 
'  My  sone,  thenk  on  the  crowe,  a  goddes 

name; 
My  sone,  keep  wel  thy  tonge  and  keep 

thy  freend. 
A  wikked  tonge  is  worse  than  a  feend. 
My  sone,  from  a  feend  men   may   hem 

blesse;  321 

My  sone,  god  of  his  endelees  goodnesse 
Walled  a  tonge  with  teeth  and  lippes  eke. 
For  man  sholdehim  avyse  what  he  speke. 
My  sone,  ful  ofte,  for  to  muche  speche, 
Hath  many  a  man  ben  spilt,  as  clerkes 

teche;  326 

But  for  a  litel  speche  avysely 
Is  no  men  shent,  to  speke  generally. 
My  sone,  thy  tonge  sholdestow  restrcyne 
At  alle  tyme,  but  whan  thou  doust  thy 

peyne  330 

To  speke  of  god,  in  honour  and  preyere. 
The  firste  vertu,  sone,  if  thou  wolt  lere. 
Is  to  restreyne  and  kepe  wel  thy  tonge.  — 
Thus  lerne  children  whan  that  they  ben 

yonge.  — 
My  sone,  of  muchel  speking  yvel-avysed, 
1'her    lasse  speking  hadde  y-nough  suf- 

fysed,  336 

Comth  muchel  harm,  thus  was  me  told 

and  taught. 
In  muchel  speche  sinne  wanteth  naught. 
Wostow  wher-of  a  rakel  tonge  serveth  ? 
Right    as    a    swerd    forcutteth    and    for- 

kerveth  340 

An  arm  a-two,  my  dere  sone,  right  so 
A  tonge  cutteth  frendship  al  a-two. 
A  langler  is  to  god  abhominable; 


344-3(^2.    I-35-] 


1.     THE    FAKSON'S    rKOI.OGUE. 


731 


Kec'd  Salomon,  so  wys  and  honurable; 
Kecd    David   in    his  psalmcs,  reed   Scn- 

eUkc.  345 

My  sono,  spck  nat,  l)ut  with  thyii  hecil 

thou  bckke. 
Dissimule  as  tliou  were  dccf,  if  that  tliuu 

here 
A  Tangier  speke  of  perilous  matcrc. 
The  I'leming  seith,  and  lerne  it,  if  thee 

leste, 
That     litel     Tangling     causeth    mucheT 

teste.  350 

My  sone,  if  thou  no  wikked  word  hast 

seyd, 
Thee  thar  nat  drcde  for  to  be  biwreyd; 
T3ut  he    that   hath   misseyd,    I    dar   wel 

sayn, 


Tie    may    by    no    wey    clepe    his   word 

agayn. 
Tiling  tliat  is  seyd,  is  seyd;    and  forth  it 

goolh,  355 

1  iiough  him  repente,  or  be  him  leef  or 

looth. 
ITe  is  his  thral  to  whom  that    he    hath 

sayd 
A  tale,  of  which  he  is  now  yvel  apayd. 
My  sone,  be  war,  and  be    non   auctour 

ncwe 
Of  tydinges,  whether  they  ben  false   (jr 

trewe.  360 

Wher-so    thou   come,    amonges    hye    or 

lowe, 
Ivepe  wel  thy  tonge,  and   thenk   yp-on 

the  crowe. 


Here  is  ended  the  Alannciples  Tale  of  the  Crowe, 


GROUP  I. 


THE   PARSON'S  PROLOGUE. 


Here  folweth  the  Prologe  of  the  Persones 
Tale. 

By  that  the  maunciple  hadde  his  tale  al 

ended, 
The  Sonne  fro  the   south    lyne  was  de- 
scended 
So  lowe,  that  he  nas  nat,  to  my  sighte. 
Degrees  nyne  antl  twenty  as  in  highte. 
Eoure   of  the  clokke   it   was   tho,    as    I 
gesse;  5 

I'or  eleven  foot,  or  litel  more  or  lesse, 
My  shadwe  was  at  thilke  tymc,  as  there, 
( )f  swich  feet  as  my  lengthe  parted  were 
In  six  feet  efjual  of  proporcioun. 
Tlier-with  the  mones  exaltacioun,  10 

I  mene  Liljra,  alwey  gan  ascende, 
As  we  were  entringe  at  a  thropcs  ende; 
Yox  which  our  host,  as  he  was  wont  to 

.gye, 

As  in  this  caas,  our  loly  companye, 
Seyde   in   this  wyse,  '  lordings  everich- 
oon,  15 

Now  lakketh  us  no  tales  mo  than  oon. 
P"uirild  is  my  sentence  and  my  decree; 
I  trovve  that  we  han  herd  of  ech  degree. 


Almost  fulfild  is  al  myn  ordinaunce; 

I  prey  to  god,  so  yeve  him  riglit  good 

chaunce,  20 

That  telleth  this  tale  to  us  lustily. 
Sir  preest,'  quod  he,  *  artow  a  vicary? 
Or  art  a  person?  sey  sooth,  by  thy  fey ! 
Be  what  thou  be,  ne  breke  thou  nat  our 

pley; 
For  every  man,  save  thou,  hath  told  his 

tale,  25 

Unbokel,   and  shewe  us  what  is  in    thy 

male; 
For  trewely,  me  thinketh,  by  thy  chere, 
Thou    sholdest    knitte    up    wel    a    greet 

matere. 
Tel  us  a  tale  anon,  for  cokkes  bones !  ' 
This    Persone    him    answerde,    al    at 

ones,  30 

'  Thou  getest  fable  noon  y-told  for  me ; 
I'^or  Paul,  that  wryteth  unto  Timothee, 
l\epreveth    hem    that  weyven  soothfast- 

nesse. 
And    tellen  fables  and  swich  vvrecched- 

nesse. 
Why   sholde    I   sowen   draf  out   of  my 

fest,  35 


732 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[36-82. 


Whan    I    may  sowen  whete,  if  that  me 

lest? 
For   which    I   seye,  if  that   yow  list   to 

here 
Moralitee  and  vertuous  matere, 
Ami  thanne  that  ye  wol  yeve  me  audi- 
ence, 
I  wol  ful  fayn,  at  Cristes  reverence,       40 
Do  yow  plesaunce  leefful,  as  I  can. 
But  trusteth  wel,  I  am  a  Southren  man, 
I    can  nat   geste  —  rum,  ram,    ruf — by 

lettre, 
Ne,   god  wot,    rym    holde    I    but    litel 

l^ettre; 
And  therfor,  if  yow  list,  I  wol  nat  glose.  45 
I  wol  yow  telle  a  mery  tale  in  prose 
To  knitte  up  al  this  feeste,  and  make  an 

ende. 
And  lesu,  for  his  grace,  wit  me  sende 
To  shewe  yow  the  wey,  in  this  viage. 
Of  thilke  parfit  glorious  pilgrimage       50 
That  highte  Jerusalem  celestial. 
And,  if  ye  vouche-sauf,  anon  I  shal 
Biginne  upon  my  tale,  for  whiche  I  preye 
Telle  your  avys,  I  can  no  beltre  seye. 
But  nathelees,  this  meditacioun  55 

Explicit  p 


60 


I  putte  it  ay  under  correccioun 
Of  clerkes,  for  I  am  nat  textuel; 
I  take  but  the  sentens,  trusteth  wel. 
Therfor  I  make  protestacioun 
That  I  wol  stonde  to  correccioun.' 

Up-on    this    word    we    han    assented 

sone. 
For,  as  us  semed,  it  was  for  to  done. 
To  enden  in  som  vertuous  sentence, 
And  for   to   yeve  him  space   and   audi- 
ence; 
And   bede   our   host   he  sholde  to  him 

seye,  65 

That  alle  we  to  telle  his  tale  him  preye. 
Our    host    hadde    the    wordes    for    us 

alle:  — 
'  Sir   preest,'  quod   he,  '  now  fayre   yow 

bifalle ! 
Sey  what   yow   list,  and  we   wol  gladly 

here' — 
And   with   that   word    he    seyde    in    this 

manere  —  7° 

'Telleth,'  quod  he,  'your  meditacioun. 
But  hasteth  yow,  the  sonne  wol  adoun; 
Beth  fructuous,  and  that  in  litel  space. 
And  to  do  wel  god  sende  yow  his  grace  ! ' 
■ohemium. 


THE   PERSONES  TALE. 


Here    biginneth    the    Tersones 
Tale, 

ler.  6°.  State  super  vias  et  videte 
et  interrogate  de  viis  antiijuis,  que 
sit  via  bona;  et  ambulate  in  ea,  et 
inuenietis  refrigerium  animabus  ves- 
tris,  &r'c. 

§  I.  Our  swete  lord  god  of  hevene, 
that  no  man  wole  perisse,  but  wole 
that  we  comen  alle  to  the  knowel- 
eche  of  him,  and  to  the  blisful  lyf 
75  that  is  perdurable,  /  amonesteth  us  by 
the  prophete  leremie,  that  seith  in 
this  wyse :  /  '  stondeth  upon  the 
weyes,  and  seeth  and  axeth  of  olde 
pathes  (that  is  to  seyn,  of  olde  sen- 
tences) which  is  the  goode  wey ;  / 


and  walketh  in  that  wey,  and  ye  shul 
finde  refresshinge  for  your  soules,' 
&c.  /  Manye  been  the  weyes  espir- 
ituels  that  leden  folk  to  oure  Lord 
lesu  Crist,  and  to  the  regne  of  glorie.  / 
Of  whiche  weyes,  ther  is  a  ful  noble 
wey  and  a  ful  covenable,  which  may 
nat  faile  to  man  ne  to  womman,  that 
thurgh  sinne  hath  misgoon  fro  the 
righte  wey  of  lerusalem  celestial;  / 
and  this  wey  is  cleped  Penitence,  of 
which  man  sholde  gladly  herknen  and 
enquere  with  al  his  herte;  /  to  witen 
what  is  Penitence,  and  whennes  it  is 
cleped  Penitence,  and  in  how  manye 
maneres  been  the  accions  or  werk- 
inges  of  Penitence,  /  and  how  manye 
spyces  ther  been  of  Penitence,  and 
whiche  thinges  apertenen  and  bihoven 


80 


83-1  lo.] 


I.      11  IF,    PERSONES   TALE. 


733 


to  Penitence,  and  whiche  thinges  de- 
stourben  Penitence.  / 

§  2.  Seint  Aml)rose  seitli,  that 
'  Penitence  is  the  pleyninj^e  of  man 
fur  tlic  gilt  that  he  hath  duon,  and 
na-more  to  do  any  thing  for  which 
him  oghte  to  pleyne.'  /  And  soin 
doctour  seith  :  '  Penitence  is  the  vvay- 
mentinge  of  man,  that  sorweth  for  his 
sinne  and  pyneth  him-selffor  he  hath 

Sj  misdoon.'  /  Penitence,  with  certeyne 
circutnstances,  is  verray  repentance  of 
a  man  that  halt  him-self  in  sorwe  and 
other  peyne  for  hise  giltes.  /  And 
for  he  shal  be  verray  penitent,  he  shal 
first  biwailen  the  sinnes  that  he  hath 
doon,  and  stidefastly  purposen  in  his 
herte  to  have  shrift  of  mouthe,  and  to 
doon  satisfaccioun,  /  and  never  to 
doon  thing  for  which  him  oghte  more 
to  biwayle  or  to  compleyne,  and  to 
continue  in  goode  werkes :  or  elles 
his  repentance  may  nat  availle.  / 
For  as  seith  seint  Isidre :  '  he  is  a 
laper  and  a  gabber,  and  no  verray 
repentant,  that  eftsoone  dooth  thing, 
for  which  him  oghte  repente.'  / 
Wepinge,  and    nat  for    to   stinte    to 

90  doon  sinne,  may  nat  avaylle.  /  But 
nathelees,  men  shal  hope  that  every 
tyme  that  man  falleth,  be  it  never  so 
ofte,  that  he  may  arise  thurgh  Peni- 
tence, if  he  have  grace  :  but  certeinly 
it  is  greet  doute.  /  For  as  seith  Seint 
Gregorie  :  '  unnethe  aryseth  he  out  of 
sinne,  that  is  charged  with  the  charge 
of  yvel  usage.'  /  And  therfore  re- 
pentant folk,  that  stinte  for  to  sinne, 
and  forlete  sinne  er  that  sinne  forlete 
hem,  holy  chirche  holdeth  hem  siker 
of  hir  savacioun.  /  And  he  that  sin- 
neth,  and  verraily  repenteth  him  in 
his  laste  ende,  holy  chirche  yet  hopeth 
his  savacioun,  by  the  grete  mercy  of 
cure  lord  lesu  Crist,  for  his  repent- 
aunce;    but  tak  the  siker  wey.  / 

§  3.  And  now,  sith  I  have  declared 
yow  what  thing  is  Penitence,  now  shul 
ye  understonde  that  ther  been  three 

95  accions  of  Penitence.  /  The  firste  ac- 
cion  of  Penitence  is,  that  a  man  be 
baptized  after  that  he  hath  sinned.  / 
Seint    Augustin    seith :     '  but    he    be 


penitent  for  his  olde  sinful  lyf,  he  may 
nat  t)iginne  the  newe  clene  lif.'  /  For 
certes,  if  he  be  baptized  withouten 
penitence  of  his  olde  gill,  he  receiv- 
cth  the  mark  of  baptisme,  but  nat  the 
grace  ne  the  remission  of  his  sinnes, 
til  he  have  repentance  verray.  /  An- 
other defaute  is  this,  that  men  doon 
deedly  sinne  after  that  they  han  re- 
ceived baptisme.  /  The  thridde  de- 
faute is,  that  men  fallen  in  venial 
sinnes  after  hir  baptisme,  fro  day  to 
day.  /  Ther-of  seith  Seint  Augustin,  100 
that  'penitence  of  goode  and  humble 
folk  is  the  penitence  of  every  day.'  / 

§  4.  The  spyces  of  Penitence  been 
three.  That  oon  of  hem  is  solempne, 
another  is  commune,  and  the  thridde 
is  privee.  /  Thilke  penance  that  is 
solempne,  is  in  two  maneres;  as  to  be 
put  out  of  holy  chirche  in  lente,  for 
slaughtre  of  children,  and  swich 
maner  thing.  /  Another  is,  whan  a 
man  hath  sinned  openly,  of  which 
sinne  the  fame  is  openly  spoken  in 
the  contree;  and  thanne  holy  chirche 
by  lugement  destreineth  him  for  to 
do  open  penaunce.  /  Commune  pen- 
aunce  is  that  preestes  enioinen  men 
comunly  in  certeyn  caas;  as  for  to 
goon,  peraventure,  naked  in  pilgrim- 
ages, or  bare-foot.  /  Privee  penaunce  105 
is  thilke  that  men  doon  alday  for 
privee  sinnes,  of  whiche  we  shryve 
us  prively  and  receyve  privee  pen- 
aunce. / 

§  5.  Now  shaltow  understande 
what  is  bihovely  and  necessarie  to 
verray  parfit  Penitence.  And  this 
stant  on  three  thinges;  /  Contricioun 
of  herte,  Confessioun  of  Mouth,  and 
Satisfaccioun./  For  which  seith  .Seint 
lohn  Crisostom  :  '  Penitence  destreyn- 
eth  a  man  to  accepte  benignely  every 
peyne  that  him  is  enioynerl,  with  con- 
tricion  of  herte,  and  shrift  of  mouth, 
with  satisfaccion;  and  in  werkinge 
of  alle  maner  humilitee.'  /  And  this 
is  fruitful  Penitence  agayn  three 
thinges  in  whiche  we  wratthe  oure 
lord  lesu  Crist:  /  this  is  to  seyn,  by  no 
delyt  in  thinkinge,  by  recchelesnesse 
in    spekinge,    and   by    wikked    sinful 


734 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[III-I37- 


werlcinge.  /  And  agayns  thise  wik- 
kede  giltes  is  Penitence,  that  may  be 
lykned  un-to  a  tree.  / 

§  6.  The  rote  of  this  tree  is  Con- 
tricion,  that  hydeth  him  in  the  herte 
of  him  that  is  verray  repentant,  right 
as  the  rote  of  a  tree  hydeth  him  in 
the  erthe.  /  Of  the  rote  of  Contri- 
cion  springeth  a  stalke,  that  bereth 
braunches  and  leves  of  Confession, 
and  fruit  of  Satisfaccion./  For  which 
Crist  seith  in  his  gospel :  '  dooth  digne 
fruit  of  Penitence';  for  by  this  fruit 
may  men  knowe  tliis  tree,  and  nat  by 
the  rote  that  is  hid  in  the  herte  of  man, 
ne  by  the  braunches  ne  by  the  leves 

115  of  Confession.  /  And  therefore  oure 
Lord  lesu  Crist  seith  thus:  'by  the 
fruit  of  hem  ye  shul  knowen  hem.'  / 
Of  this  rote  eek  springeth  a  seed  of 
grace,  the  which  seed  is  moder  of 
sikernesse,  and  this  seed  is  egre  and 
hoot.  /  The  grace  of  this  seed 
springeth  of  god,  thurgh  remem- 
brance of  the  day  of  dome  and  on 
the  peynes  of  helie.  /  Of  this  mat- 
ere  seith  Salomon,  that  '  in  the  drede 
of  god  man  forleteth  his  sinne. '/  The 
hete  of  this  seed  is  the  love  of  god, 
and  the  desiring  of  the  loye  perdur- 

120  able.  /  This  hete  dravveth  the  herte 
of  a  man  to  god,  and  dooth  him  haten 
his  sinne.  /  For  soothly,  ther  is  no- 
thing that  savoureth  so  wel  to  a  child 
as  the  milk  of  his  norice,  ne  no-thing 
is  to  him  more  abhominable  than 
thilke  milk  whan  it  is  medled  with 
other  mete.  /  Right  so  the  sinful 
man  that  loveth  his  sinne,  him  sem- 
eth  that  it  is  to  him  most  swete  of 
any-thing;  /  but  fro  that  tyme  that 
he  loveth  sadly  our  lord  lesu  Crist, 
and  desireth  the  lif  perdurable,  ther 
nis  to  him  no-thing  more  abhomi- 
nable. /  For  soothly,  the  lawe  of  god 
is  the  love  of  god;  for  which  David 
the  prophete  seith  :  '  I  have  loved  thy 
lawe  and  hated  wikkednesse  and 
hate';    he  that  loveth  god  kepeth  his 

125  lawe  and  his  word./  This  tree  saugh 
the  prophete  Daniel  in  S|Mrit,  up-on 
the  avision  of  the  king  Nabugodo- 
nosor,  whan  he  conseiled  him  to  do 


penitence./  Penaunce  is  the  tree 
of  lyf  to  hem  that  it  receiven,  and  he 
that  holdeth  him  in  verray  penitence 
is  blessed;  after  the  sentence  of  Salo- 
mon./ 

§7.  In  this  Penitence  or  Contricion 
man  shal  understonde  foure  thinges, 
that  is  to  seyn,  what  is  Contricion  :  and 
whiche  been  the  causes  that  moeven  a 
man  to  Contricion  :  and  how  he  sholde 
be  contrit :  and  what  Contricion  availl- 
eth  to  the  soule.  /  Thanne  is  it  thus  : 
that  Contricion  is  the  verray  sorwe  that 
a  man  receiveth  in  his  herte  for  his 
sinnes,  with  sad  purpos  to  shryve  him, 
and  to  do  penaunce,  and  nevermore  to 
do  sinne.  /  And  this  sorwe  shal  been 
in  this  manere,  as  seith  seint  Bernard  : 
'  it  shal  been  hevy  and  grevous,  and 
ful  sharpe  and  poinant  in  herte.'  /  130 
First,  for  man  hath  agilt  his  lord  and 
his  creatour;  and  more  sharpe  and 
poinant,  for  he  hath  agilt  his  fader 
celestial;  /  and  yet  more  sharpe  and 
poinant,  for  he  hath  wrathed  and  agilt 
him  that  boghte  him;  which  with  his 
precious  blood  hath  delivered  us  fro 
the  bondes  of  sinne,  and  fro  the  cruel- 
tee  of  the  devel  and  fro  the  peynes  of 
helle.  / 

§  8.  The  causes  that  oghte  moeve  a 
man  toContricion  been  six.  First, a  man 
shal  remembre  him  of  hise  sinnes;  / 
but  loke  he  that  thilke  remembrance 
ne  be  to  him  no  delyt  by  no  wey,  but 
greet  shame  and  sorwe  for  his  gilt. 
For  lob  seith  :  'sinful  men  doon  werkes 
worthy  of  Confession.'  /  And  ther- 
fore  seith  Ezechie :  '  wol  remembre 
me  alle  the  yeres  of  my  lyf,  in  bitter- 
nesse  of  myn  herte.'  /  And  god  seith  135 
in  the  Apocalips :  '  remembreth  yow 
fro  whennes  that  ye  been  falle ' ;  for 
biforn  that  tyme  that  ye  sinned,  ye 
were  the  children  of  god,  and  limes  of 
the  regne  of  god ;  /  but  for  your  sinne 
y^e  been  woxen  thral  and  foul,  and 
membres  of  the  feend,  hate  of  aungels, 
sclaundre  of  holy  chirche,  and  fode  of 
the  false  serpent;  perpetuel  matcre 
of  the  fyr  of  helle.  /  And  yet  more 
foul  and  abhominable,  for  ye  tres- 
passen  so  ofte  tyme,  as  doth  the  hound 


138-167.] 


I.    THE   PERSONES  TALE. 


735 


that  retourneth  to  eten  his  spewing.  / 

And  yet  he  ye  fouler  for  your  longc 
continuing  in  sinne  anil  your  sinful 
usage,  fur  which  ye  be  roten  in  your 
sinne,  as  a  beest  in  his  dong.  /  Swiche 
manere  of  thoghtes  niaken  a  man  to 
have  shame  of  his  sinne,  and  no  delyt, 

140  as  god  scith  by  the  prophete  Ezechiel./ 
'Ye  shal  remcmhre  yow  of  youre  weyes, 
and  they  shuln  displese  yow.'  Sothly, 
sinncs  been  the  weyes  that  leden  folk 
to  helle.  / 

§  9.  The  seconde  cause  that  oghte 
make  a  man  to  have  desdeyn  of  sinne 
is  this :  that,  as  seith  seint  Peter, 
'  who-so  that  doth  sinne  is  thral  of 
sinne';  and  sinne  put  a  man  in  greet 
thraldom.  /  And  therfore  seith  the 
prophete  Ezechiel :  '  I  wente  sorvveful 
in  desdayn  of  my-self.'  And  certes, 
wel  oghte  a  man  have  desdayn  of 
sinne,  and  withdrawe  him  from  that 
thraldom  and  vileinye.  /  And  lo, 
wiiat  seith  Seneca  in  this  matere.  He 
seith  thus  : '  though  I  wiste  that  neither 
god  ne  man  ne  sholde  nevere  knowe 
it,  yet  wolde  I  have  desdayn  for  to 
do  sinne.'  /  And  the  same  Seneca 
also  seith :  '  I  am  born  to  gretter 
thinges  than  to  be  thral  to  my  body, 
or  than    for  to  maken  of  my  body  a 

145  thral.'  /  Ne  a  fouler  thral  may  no 
man  ne  womman  maken  of  his  body, 
than  for  to  yeven  his  body  to  sinne.  / 
Al  were  it  the  fouleste  cherl,  or  the 
fouleste  womman  that  liveth,  and 
leest  of  value,  yet  is  he  thanne  more 
foule  and  more  in  servitute.  /  Evere 
fro  the  hyer  degree  that  man  falleth, 
the  more  is  he  thral,  and  more  to  god 
and  to  the  world  vile  and  abhomina- 
ble.  /  O  gode  god,  wel  oghte  man 
have  desdayn  of  sinne;  sith  that, 
thurgh  sinne,  ther  he  was  free,  now 
is  he  maked  bonde.  /  And  therfore 
seyth  Seint  Augustin :  '  if  thou  hast 
desdayn  of  thy  servant,  if  he  agilte  or 
sinne,  have  thou  thanne  desdayn  that 

150  thou  thy-self  sholdest  do  sinne.'/ 
Take  reward  of  thy  value,  that  thou 
ne  be  to  foul  to  thy-self.  /  Alias ! 
wel  oghten  they  thanne  have  desdayn 
to   ])een    servauntz    and    thralles   to 


sinne,  and  sore  been  ashamed  of 
hem-self,  /  that  god  of  his  endclees 
goodnesse  hath  set  hem  in  heigh  es- 
taat,  or  yeven  hem  wit,  strengthe  of 
body,  hele,  beautee,  prosperitee,  / 
and  boghte  hem  fro  the  deeth  with 
his  herte  blood,  that  they  so  un- 
kindely,  agayns  his  gentilesse,  (juyten 
him  so  vileinsly,  to  slaughtre  of  hir 
owene  soules.  /  O  gode  god,  ye 
wommen  that  been  of  so  greet 
beautee,  reniembreth  yow  of  the 
proverbe  of  Salomon,  that  seith:/  155 
'he  lykneth  a  fair  womman,  that 
is  a  fool  of  hir  body,  lyk  to  a  ring 
of  gold  that  were  in  the  groyn  of  a 
sowe.'  /  For  right  as  a  sovve  wroteth 
in  everich  ordure,  so  wroteth-  she  hir 
beautee  in  the  stinkinge  ordure  of 
sinne.  / 

§  10.  The  thridde  cause  that  oghte 
moeve  a  man  to  Contricion,  is  drede 
of  the  day  of  dome,  and  of  the  horri- 
ble peynes  of  helle.  /  For  as  seint 
lerome  seith  :  '  at  every  tyme  that  me 
remenibreth  of  the  day  of  dome,  I 
quake;  /  for  whan  I  ete  or  drinke, 
or  what-so  that  I  do,  evere  semeth 
me  that  the  trompe  sowneth  in  myn 
ere :  /  riseth  up,  ye  that  been  dede,  160 
and  cometh  to  the  lugement.'  /  O 
gode  god,  muchel  oghte  a  man  to 
drede  swich  a  lugement,  '  ther-as  we 
shullen  been  alle,'  as  seint  Poul  seith, 
'  biforn  the  sete  of  oure  lord  lesu 
Crist';  /  wher-as  he  shal  make  a 
general  congregacion,  wher-as  no 
man  may  been  absent.  /  For  certes, 
there  availleth  noon  essoyne  ne  excu- 
sacion.  /  And  nat  only  that  oure  de- 
fautes  shullen  be  iuged,  but  eek  that 
alle  oure  werkes  shullen  openly  be 
knowe.  /  And  as  seith  Seint  Per-  165 
nard :  '  ther  ne  shal  no  pledinge 
availle,  ne  no  sleighte;  we  shullen 
yeven  rekeninge  of  everich  ydel 
word.'  /  Ther  shul  we  han  a  luge 
that  may  nat  been  deceived  ne  cor- 
rujit.  And  why?  For,  certes,  alle 
our  thoghtes  been  discovered  as  to 
him;  ne  for  preyere  ne  for  mede  he 
shal  nat  been  corrupt.  /  And  ther- 
fore seith  Salomon  :   '  the  wratthe  of 


736 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[168-191. 


god  ne  wol  nat  spare  no  wight,  for 
preyere  ne  for  yifte ' ;  and  therfore, 
at  the  day  of  doom,  ther  nis  noon 
hope  to  escape.  /  Wherfore,  as 
seith  Seint  Ansehn :  '  ful  greet  an- 
gwissh  shul  the  sinful  folk  have  at 
that  tyme;  /  ther  shal  the  sterne  and 
wrothe  luge  sitte  aljove,  and  under 
him  the  horrible  put  of  helle  open  to 
destroyen  him  that  moot  biknowen 
hise  sinnes,  whiche  sinnes  openly  been 
shewed  biforn  god  and  biforn  every 

170  creature.  /  And  on  the  left  syde, 
mo  develes  than  herte  may  bithinke, 
for  to  harie  and  drawe  the  sinful 
soules  to  the  pyne  of  helle.  /  And 
with-inne  the  hertes  of  folk  shal  be 
the  bytinge  conscience,  and  with- 
oute-forth  shal  be  the  world  al  bren- 
ninge.  /  Whider  shal  thanne  the 
wrecched  sinful  man  flee  to  hyden 
him?  Certes,  he  may  nat  hyden 
him;  he  moste  come  forth  and 
shewen  him.'  /  For  certes,  as  seith 
seint  lerome  :  '  the  erthe  shal 
casten  him  out  of  him,  and  the 
see  also  ;  and  the  eyr  also,  that 
shal  be  ful  of  thonder-clappes  and 
lightninges.'  /  Now  sothly,  who-so 
wel  remembreth  him  of  thise  thinges, 
I  gesse  that  his  sinne  shal  nat  turne 
him  in-to  delyt,  but  to  greet  sorvve, 

175  for  drede  of  the  peyne  of  helle.  / 
And  therfore  seith  lob  to  god  :  '  suf- 
fre,  lord,  that  I  may  a  whyle  biwaille 
and  wepe,  er  I  go  with-oute  return- 
ing to  the  derke  lond,  covered  with 
the  derknesse  of  deeth ;  /  to  the  lond 
of  misese  and  of  derknesse,  where-as 
is  the  shadwe  of  deeth;  where-as 
ther  is  noon  ordre  or  ordinance,  but 
grisly  drede  that  evere  shal  laste.'  / 
Lo,  here  may  ye  seen  that  lob  preyde 
respyt  a  whyle,  to  biwepe  and  waille 
his  trespas;  for  soothly  oon  day  of 
respyt  is  bettre  than  al  the  tresor  of 
the  world.  /  And  for-as-muche  as  a 
man  may  acquiten  him-self  biforn  god 
by  penitence  in  this  world,  and  nat  by 
tresor,  therfore  sholde  he  preye  to 
god  to  yeve  him  respyt  a  whyle,  to 
biwepe  and  liivvaillen  his  trespas.  / 
For  certes,  al  the  sorvve  that  a  man 


mighte  make  fro  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  nis  but  a  litel  thing  at  regard 
of  the  sorwe  of  helle.  /  The  cause  180 
why  that  lob  clepeth  helle  '  the  lond 
of  derknesse';  /  under-stondeth  that 
he  clepeth  it '  londe  '  or  erthe,  for  it  is 
stable,  and  nevere  shal  faille;  '  derk,' 
for  he  that  is  in  helle  hath  defaute  of 
light  material.  /  For  certes,  the 
derke  light,  that  shal  come  out  of  the 
fyr  that  evere  shal  brenne,  shal  turne 
him  al  to  peyne  that  is  in  helle;  for 
it  sheweth  him  to  the  horrible  develes 
that  him  tormenten.  /  '  Covered 
with  the  derknesse  of  deeth  ' :  that  is 
to  seyn,  that  he  that  is  in  helle  shal 
have  defaute  of  the  sighte  of  god; 
for  certes,  the  sighte  of  god  is  the  lyf 
perdurable.  /  'The  derknesse  of 
deeth '  been  the  sinnes  that  the 
wrecched  man  hath  doon,  whiche  that 
destourben  him  to  see  the  face  of 
god;  right  as  doth  a  derk  cloude  bi- 
twixe  us  and  the  sonne.  /  '  Lond  of  185 
misese ' :  by-cause  that  ther  been 
three  maneres  of  defautes,  agayn 
three  thinges  that  folic  of  this  world 
han  in  this  present  lyf,  tliat  is  to  seyn, 
honours,  delyces,  and  richesses.  / 
Agayns  honour,  have  they  in  helle 
shame  and  confusion.  /  For  wel  ye 
woot  that  men  clepen  '  honour '  the 
reverence  that  man  doth  to  man;  but 
in  helle  is  noon  honour  ne  reverence. 
For  certes,  na-more  reverence  shal  be 
doon  there  to  a  king  than  to  a  knave./ 
For  which  god  seith  by  the  prophete 
leremye :  '  thilke  folk  that  me  de- 
spysen  shul  been  in  despyt.'  /  '  Hon- 
our' is  eek  cleped  greet  lordshipe; 
ther  shal  no  man  serven  other  but  of 
harm  and  torment.  '  Honour  '  is  eek 
cleped  greet  dignitee  and  heighnesse; 
but  in  helle  shul  they  been  al  fortroden 
of  develes.  /  And  god  seith  :  '  the  190 
horrible  develes  shulle  goon  and 
comen  up-on  the  hevedes  of  the 
dampned  folk.'  And  this  is  for-as- 
muche  as,  the  hyer  that  they  were 
in  this  present  lyf,  the  more  shulle 
they  been  abated  and  defouled  in 
helle.  /  Agayns  the  richesses  of  this 
world,  shul  they  han  misese  of  pov- 


192-216.] 


I.    THE   PERSONES  TALE. 


737 


erte;  and  this  poverte  shal  been  in 
foure  thinges :  /  in  defaute  of  tresor, 
of  which  that  David  seith  ;  'theriche 
folk,  that  embracedcii  and  oneden  al 
hir  herte  to  tresor  of  this  world,  shul 
slepe  in  the  slepinge  of  decth;  and 
no-thing  ne  shul  they  finden  in  hir 
handes  of  al  hir  tresor.'  /  And 
more-over,  the  miseise  of  helle  shal 
been  in  defaute  of  mete  and  drinke.  / 
For  god  seith  thus  by  Moyses;  'they 
shul  been  wasted  with  hunger,  and 
the  briddes  of  helle  shul  devouren 
hem  with  bitter  decth,  and  the  galle 
of  the  dragon  shal  been  hir  drinke, 
and  the  venim  of  the  dragon  hir  mor- 

195  sels.'  /  And  forther-over,  hir  miseise 
shal  been  in  defaute  of  clothing :  for 
they  shulle  be  naked  in  body  as  of 
clothing,  save  the  fyr  in  which  they 
brenne  and  othere  hlthes;  /  and 
naked  shul  they  been  of  soule,  of 
alle  manere  vertues,  which  that  is  the 
clothing  of  the  soule.  Where  been 
thanne  the  gaye  rol)es  and  the  softe 
shetes  and  the  smale  shertes?  /  Lo, 
what  seith  god  of  hem  by  the  proph- 
ete  Isaye  :  '  that  under  hem  shul  been 
strawed  motthes,  and  hir  covertures 
shulle  been  of  wormes  of  helle.'  / 
And  forther-over,  hir  miseise  shal 
been  in  defaute  of  freendes;  for  he 
nis  nat  povre  that  hath  goode 
freendes,  but  there  is  no  freend:  / 
for  neither  god  ne  no  creature  shal 
been  freend  to  hem,  and  everich  of 
hem    shal    haten    other   with    deedly 

200  hate.  /  'The  sones  and  the  dogh- 
tren  shuUen  rebellen  agayns  fader 
and  mooder,  and  kinrede  agayns  kin- 
rede,  and  chyden  and  despysen  ever- 
ich of  hem  other,'  bothe  day  and 
night,  as  god  seith  by  the  prophete 
Michias.  /  And  the  lovinge  chil- 
dren, that  whylom  loveden  so  fleshly 
everich  other,  wolden  everich  of  hem 
eten  other  if  they  mighte.  /  For 
how  sholden  they  love  hem  togidre 
in  the  peyne  of  helle,  whan  they 
hated  ech  of  hem  other  in  the  pros- 
peritee  of  this  lyf?  /  For  truste  wel, 
hir  fleshly  love  was  deedly  hate;  as 
seith  the  prophete    David :    '  who-so 

3" 


that  loveth  wikkednesse  he  hateth 
his  soule.'  /  And  who-so  hateth  his 
owene  soule,  certes,  he  may  love  noon 
other  wnght  in  no  manere.  /  And  205 
therefore,  in  helle  is  no  solas  ne  no 
frendshipe,  but  evere  the  more  fleshly 
kinredes  that  been  in  helle,  the  more 
cursinges,  the  more  chydinges,  and 
the  more  deedly  hate  ther  is  among 
hem.  /  And  forther-over,  they  shul 
have  defaute  of  alle  manere  delyces; 
for  certes,  delyces  been  after  the  ap- 
petytes  of  the  fyve  wittes,  as  sighte, 
heringe,  smellinge,  savoringe,  and 
touchinge.  /  But  in  helle  hir  sighte 
shal  be  ful  of  derknesse  and  of  sm(jke, 
and  therfore  ful  of  teres;  and  hir  her- 
inge, ful  of  waymentinge  and  of  grint- 
inge  of  teeth,  as  seith  lesu  Crist;  / 
hir  nosethirles  shullen  be  ful  of  stink- 
inge  stink.  And  as  seith  Isaye  the 
prophete :  '  hir  savoring  shal  be  ful 
of  bitter  galle.'  /  And  touchinge  of 
al  hir  body,  y-covered  with  '  fyr  that 
nevere  shal  quenche,  and  with  wormes 
that  nevere  shul  dyen,'  as  god  seith 
by  the  mouth  of  Isaye.  /  And  for-  210 
as-muche  as  they  shul  nat  wene  that 
they  may  dyen  for  peyne,  and  by  hir 
deeth  flee  fro  peyne,  that  may  they 
understonden  by  the  word  of  lob, 
that  seith  :  '  ther-as  is  the  shadwe  of 
deeth.'  /  Certes,  a  shadwe  hath  the 
lyknesse  of  the  thing  of  which  it  is 
shadwe,  but  shadwe  is  nat  the  same 
thing  of  which  it  is  shadwe.  /  Right 
so  fareth  the  peyne  of  helle;  it  is  lyk 
deeth  for  the  horrible  anguissh,  and 
why?  For  it  peyneth  hem  evere,  as 
though  they  sholde  dye  anon;  but 
certes  they  shal  nat  dye.  /  For  as 
seith  Seint  Gregorie :  '  to  wrecche 
caytives  shal  be  deeth  with-oute 
deeth,  and  ende  with-outen  ende,  and 
defaute  with-oute  failinge.  /  For  hir 
deeth  shal  alwey  liven,  and  hir  ende 
shal  everemo  biginne,  and  hir  defaute 
shal  nat  faille.'  /  And  therfore  seith  215 
Seint  lohn  the  Evangelist :  '  they 
shullen  folvve  deeth,  and  they  shul 
nat  fmde  him;  and  they  shul  desyren 
to  dye,  and  deeth  shal  flee  fro  hem.'  / 
And  eek  lob  seith :  that  '  in  helle  is 


738 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[217-242. 


noon  ordre  of  rule.'  /  And  al-be-it 
so  that  god  hath  creat  alle  thinges  in 
right  ordre,  and  no-thing  with-outen 
ordre,  but  alle  thinges  been  ordeyned 
anti  nombred;  yet  nathelees  they 
that  been  dampned  been  no-thing  in 
ordre,  ne  holden  noon  ordre.  /  For 
the  erthe  ne  shal  bere  hem  no  fruit.  / 
For,  as  the  prophete  David  seith  : '  god 
shal  destroie  the  fruit  of  the  erthe  as 
fro  hem;  '  ne  water  ne  shal  yeve  hem 
no  moisture;   ne  the  eyr  no  refressh- 

220  ing,  ne  fyr  no  light.  /  For  as  seith 
seint  Basilie  :  '  the  brenninge  of  the 
fyr  of  this  world  shal  god  yeven  in 
helle  to  hem  that  been  dampned;  / 
but  the  light  and  the  cleernesse  shal 
be  yeven  in  hevene  to  hise  children  '; 
right  as  the  gode  man  yeveth  flesh  to 
hise  children,  and  bones  to  his 
houndes.  /  And  for  they  shuUen 
have  noon  hope  to  escape,  seith  seint 
lob  atte  laste :  that  '  ther  shal  hor- 
rour  and  grisly  drede  dwellen  with- 
outen  ende.'  /  Horrour  is  alwey 
drede  of  harm  that  is  to  come,  and 
this  drede  shal  evere  dwelle  in  the 
hertes  of  hem  that  been  dampned. 
And  therefore  han  they  lorn  al  hir 
hope,  for  sevene  causes.  /  First,  for 
god  that  is  hir  luge  shal  be  with-outen 
mercy  to  hem;  ne  they  may  nat  plese 
him,  ne  noon  of  hise  halwes;    ne  they 

225  ne  may  yeve  no-thing  for  hir  raunson  ;/ 
ne  they  have  no  vois  to  speke  to  him; 
nethey  may  nat  flee  fro  peyne;  nethey 
have  no  goodnesse  in  hem,  that  they 
movve  shewe  to  delivere  hem  fro 
peyne./  And  therfore  seith  Salomon  : 
'  the  wiUked  man  dyeth  ;  and  whan  he 
is  deed,  he  shal  have  noon  hope  to  es- 
cape fro  peyne.'  /  Who-so  thanne 
wolde  wel  understande  these  peynes, 
and  bithinke  him  weel  that  he  hath 
deserved  thilke  peynes  for  his  sinnes, 
certes,  he  sholde  have  more  talent  to 
syken  and  to  wepe  than  for  to  singen 
and  to  pleye.  /  For  as  that  seith 
Salomon  :  '  who-so  that  hadde  the 
science  to  knowe  the  peynes  that 
been  establissed  and  ordeyned  for 
sinne,  he  wolde  make  sorwe.'  / 
'Thilke  science,'  as  seith    seint  Au- 


gustin,  '  maketh  a  man  to  waymenten 
in  his  herte.'  /  230 

§  II.  The  fourthe  point,  that  oghte 
maken  a  man  to  have  contricion,  is 
the  sorweful  remembrance  of  the  good 
that  he  hath  left  to  doon  here  in 
earthe;  and  eek  the  good  that  he 
hath  lorn.  /  Soothly,  the  gode 
werkes  that  he  hath  left,  outher  they 
been  the  gode  werkes  that  he  wroghte 
er  he  fel  in-to  deedly  sinne,  or  elles 
the  gode  werkes  that  he  wroghte 
while  he  lay  in  sinne.  /  Soothly,  the 
gode  werkes,  that  he  dide  biforn  that 
he  fil  in  sinne,  been  al  mortified  and 
astoned  and  dulled  by  the  ofte  sin- 
ning. /  The  othere  gode  werkes, 
that  he  wroghte  whyl  he  lay  in  deedly 
sinne,  they  been  outrely  dede  as  to  the 
lyf  perdurable  in  hevene.  /  Thanne 
thilke  gode  werkes  that  been  morti- 
fied by  ofte  sinning,  whiche  gode 
werkes  he  dide  whyl  he  was  in  chari- 
tee,  ne  mowe  nevere  quiken  agayn 
with-outen  verray  penitence.  /  And  235 
ther-of  seith  god,  by  the  mouth  of 
Ezechiel :  that,  '  if  the  rightful  man 
returne  agayn  from  his  rightwisnesse 
and  werke  wikkednesse,  shal  he 
live?'  /  Nay;  for  alle  the  gode 
werkes  that  he  hath  wroght  ne  shul 
nevere  been  in  remembrance;  for  he 
shal  dyen  in  his  sinne.  /  And  up-on 
thilke  chapitre  seith  seint  Ciregorie 
thus :  '  that  we  shulle  understonde 
this  principally;  /  that  whan  we  doon 
deedly  sinne,  it  is  for  noght  thanne  to 
rehercen  or  drawen  in-to  memorie  the 
gode  werkes  that  we  han  wroght  bi- 
forn.' /  For  certes,  in  the  werkinge 
of  the  deedly  sinne,  ther  is  no  trust 
to  no  good  werk  that  we  han  doon 
biforn;  that  is  to  seyn,  as  for  to  have 
therby  the  lyf  perdurable  in  hevene.  /  240 
But  nathelees,  the  gode  werkes 
quiken  agayn,  and  comen  agayn,  and 
helpen,  and  availlen  to  have  the  lyf 
perdurable  in  hevene,  whan  we  han 
contricion.  /  But  soothly,  the  gode 
werkes  that  men  doon  whyl  they  been 
in  deedly  sinne,  for-as-muche  as  they 
were  doon  in  deedly  sinne,  they  may 
nevere  quiken  agayn.  /     For  certes, 


243-267.] 


I.     THE   PERSONES   TALE. 


739 


thing  that  nevere  hadde  lyf  may 
nevcre  quikene;  ami  iiathelces,  al- 
be-it  that  thoy  ne  availlc  miglit  to  han 
the  lyf  perdurahle,  yet  availlen  they 
to  abregge  of  the  peyne  of  helle,  or 
elles  to  geten  temporal  richesse,  /  or 
elles  that  god  wole  the  rather  enlu- 
mine  and  lightne  the  herte  of  tlie  sin- 
ful man  to  have  repentance;  /  and 
eek  they  availlen  for  to  usen  a  man  to 
doon  gode    werkes,    that    the    feend 

245  have  the  lasse  power  of  his  soule.  / 
And  thus  the  cartels  lord  lesu  Crist 
wole  that  no  good  werk  be  lost;  for 
in  somwhat  it  shal  availle.  /  But 
for-as-muche  as  the  gode  werkes  that 
men  doon  whyl  they  been  in  good 
lyf,  been  al  mortified  by  sinne  fol- 
winge;  and  eek,  sith  that  alle  the 
gode  werkes  that  men  doon  whyl  they 
been  in  deedly  synne,  been  outrely 
dede  as  for  to  have  the  lyf  perdur- 
able; /  vvel  may  that  man,  that  no 
good  werke  ne  dooth,  singe  thilke 
newe  Frenshe  song  :  " /irz  r  tout  perdu 
vtoii  temps  et  mon  labour.^''  /  For 
certes,  sinne  bireveth  a  man  bothe 
goodnesse  of  nature  and  eek  the 
goodnesse  of  grace.  /  For  soothly, 
the  grace  of  the  holy  goost  fareth  lyk 
fyr,  that  may  nat  been  ydel;  for  fyr 
failcth  anoon  as  it  forleteth  his  wirk- 
inge,  and  right  so  grace  fayleth  anoon 

250  as  it  forleteth  his  werkinge.  /  Than 
leseth  the  sinful  man  the  goodnesse 
of  gloric,  that  only  is  bihight  to  gode 
men  that  labouren  and  werken.  / 
Wei  may  he  be  sory  thanne,  that 
oweth  al  his  lif  to  god  as  longe  as  he 
hath  lived,  and  eek  as  longe  as  he 
shal  live,  that  no  goodnesse  ne  hath 
to  paye  with  his  dette  to  god,  to 
whom  he  oweth  al  his  lyf.  /  For 
trust  wel,  '  he  shal  yeven  acountes,' 
as  seith  seint  Bernard,  '  of  alle  the 
godes  that  han  be  yeven  him  in  this 
present  lyf,  and  how  he  hath  hem 
despended;  /  in  so  muche  that  ther 
shal  nat  perisse  an  hcer  of  his  heed, 
ne  a  moment  <jf  an  houre  ne  shal  nat 
perisse  of  his  tyme,  that  he  ne  slial 
yeve  of  it  a  rekening.'  / 

§  12.  The  fifthe  thing   that    oghte 


moeve  a  man  to  contricion,  is  rcmcm- 
Inance  of  the  passion  that  oure  lorrl 
Icsu  Crist  sufired  for  our  sinnes.  /  255 
For,  as  seith  seint  Bernard :  '  whyl 
that  I  live,  I  shal  have  remembrance 
of  the  travailles  that  oure  lord  Crist 
suffrcfl  in  preching;  /  his  wearinesse 
in  travailling,  hise  temptacions  whan 
he  fasted,  hise  longe  wakinges  whan 
he  preyde,  hise  teres  whan  that  he 
weep  f(jr  pitee  of  good  peple;  /the 
wo  and  the  shame  and  the  lilthe  that 
men  seyden  to  him;  of  the  foule 
spitting  that  men  spitte  in  his  face,  of 
the  buffettes  that  men  yaven  him,  of 
the  foule  mowes,  and  of  the  repreves 
that  men  to  him  seyden;  /of  the 
nayles  with  whiche  he  was  nailed  to 
the  croys,  and  of  al  the  remenant  of 
his  passion  that  he  suffred  for  my 
sinnes,  and  no-thing  for  his  gilt.'  / 
And  ye  shul  understonde,  that  in 
mannes  sinne  is  every  manere  of  ordre 
or  ordinance  turned  up-so-doun.  /  260 
For  it  is  sooth,  that  god,  and  reson, 
and  sensualitee,  and  the  body  of  man 
been  so  ordeyned,  that  everich  of 
thise  foure  thinges  sholde  have  lord- 
shipe  over  that  other;  /  as  thus  :  god 
sholde  have  lordshipe  over  reson,  and 
reson  over  sensualitee,  and  sensualitee 
over  the  Ijody  of  man.  /  ]!ut  sothly, 
A\han  man  sinneth,  al  this  ordre  or 
ordinance  is  turned  up-so-doun.  / 
And  therfore  thanne,  for-as-muche  as 
the  reson  of  man  ne  wol  nat  be  sub- 
get  ne  obeisant  to  god,  that  is  his  lord 
by  right,  therfore  leseth  it  the  lord- 
shipe that  it  sholde  have  over  sensual- 
itee, and  eek  over  the  body  of  man.  / 
And  why  ?  For  sensualitee  rebelleth 
thanne  agayns  reson  ;  and  by  that  wey 
leseth  reson  the  lordshipe  over  sen- 
sualitee and  over  the  body.  /  For  265' 
right  as  reson  is  rebel  to  god,  right  so 
is  bothe  sensualitee  rebel  to  reson  and 
the  liody  also.  /  And  certes,  this 
disordinance  and  this  rebellion  oure 
lord  Icsu  Crist  alioghte  up-on  his 
jirecious  body  ful  dere,  and  herk- 
neth  in  which  wyse./  For-as-muche 
thanne  as  reson  is  rebel  to  god,  ther- 
fore is  man  worthy  to  have  sorwe  and 


740 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[26S-290. 


to  be  deed.  /  This  suffred  oure  lord 
lesu  Crist  for  man,  after  that  he  hadde 
be  bitraysed  of  his  disciple,  and  dis- 
treyned  and  bounde, '  so  that  his  blood 
brast  out  at  every  nail  of  hise  handes,' 
as  seith  seint  Augustin.  /  And  for- 
ther-over,  for-as-muchel  as  reson  of 
man  ne  wol  nat  daunte  sensualitee 
whan  it  may,  therfore  is  men  worthy 
to  have  shame;  and  this  suffred  oure 
lord   lesu  Crist  for  man,  whan  they 

270  spetten  in  his  visage.  /  And  forther- 
over,  for-as-muchel  thanne  as  the 
caitif  body  of  man  is  rebel  bothe  to 
reson  and  to  sensualitee,  therfore  is 
it  worthy  the  deeth.  /  And  this  suf- 
fred oure  lord  lesu  Crist  for  man  up- 
on the  croys,  where-as  ther  was  no 
part  of  his  body  free,  with-outen  greet 
peyne  and  bitter  passion.  /  And  al 
this  suffred  lesu  Crist,  that  nevere 
forfeted.  And  therfore  resonably 
may  be  seyd  of  lesu  in  this  manere  : 
'  to  muchel  am  I  peyned  for  the 
thinges  that  I  nevere  deserved,  and 
to  muche  defouled  for  shend-shipe 
that  man  is  worthy  to  have.'  /  And 
therfore  may  the  sinful  man  wel 
seye,  as  seith  seint  Bernard  :  '  acursed 
be  the  bitternesse  of  my  sinne,  for 
which  ther  moste  be  suffred  so  muchel 
bitternesse.'/  P'or  certes,  after  the 
diverse  discordances  of  oure  wikked- 
nesses,  was  the  passion  of  lesu  Crist 

275  ordeyned  in  diverse  thinges,  /  as  thus. 
Certes,  sinful  mannes  soule  is  bi- 
traysed of  the  devel  by  coveitise  of 
temporel  prosperitee,  and  scorned  by 
deceite  whan  he  cheseth  fleshly  dely- 
ces;  and  yet  is  it  tormented  by 
inpacience  of  adversitee,  and  bispet 
by  servage  and  subieccion  of  sinne; 
and  atte  laste  it  is  slayn  fynally.  / 
For  this  disordinaunce  of  sinful  man 
was  lesu  Crist  first  bitraysed,  and  after 
that  was  he  bounde,  that  cam  for  to 
unbynden  us  of  sinne  and  peyne.  / 
Thanne  was  he  biscorned,  that  only 
sholde  han  been  honoured  in  alle 
thinges  and  of  alle  thinges./  Thanne 
was  his  visage,  that  oghte  be  desired  to 
be  seyn  of  al  man-kinde,  in  which  vis- 
age aungels  desyren  to  looke,  vileynsly 


bispet.  /  Thanne  was  he  scourged 
that  no-thing  liadde  agilt;  and  fynally, 
thanne  was  he  crucified  and  slayn.  /  2S0 
Thanne  vv'as  acompliced  the  word  of 
Isaye  :  '  he  was  wounded  for  oure  mis- 
dedes,  and  defouled  for  oure  felon- 
ies.' /  Now  sith  that  lesu  Crist  took 
up-on  him-self  the  peyne  of  alle  oure 
wikkednesses,  muchel  oghte  sinful 
man  wepen  and  biwayle,  that  for  hise 
sinnes  goddes  sone  of  hevene  sholde 
al  this  peyne  endure.  / 

§  13.  The  sixte  thing  that  oghte 
moeve  a  man  to  contricion,  is  the 
hope  of  three  thynges;  that  is  to 
seyn,  foryifnesse  of  sinne,  and  the 
yifte  of  grace  wel  for  to  do,  and  the 
glorie  of  hevene,  with  which  god  shal 
guerdone  a  man  for  hise  gode  dedes.  / 
And  for-as-muche  as  lesu  Crist  yeveth 
us  thise  yiftes  of  his  largesse  and  of 
his  sovereyn  bountee,  therfore  is  he 
cleped  lesus  Nazarenus  rex  ludeo- 
riim.  /  lesus  is  to  seyn  'saveour'  or 
'salvacion,'  on  whom  men  shul  hope 
to  have  foryifnesse  of  sinnes,  which 
that  is  proprely  salvacion  of  sinnes.  /  285 
And  therfore  seyde  the  aungel  to 
Joseph  :  '  thou  shalt  clepen  his  name 
lesus,  that  shal  saven  his  peple  of  hir 
sinnes.'  /  And  heer-of  seith  seint 
Peter:  'ther  is  noon  other  name 
under  hevene  that  is  yeve  to  any 
man,  by  which  a  man  may  be  saved, 
but  only  lesus.'  /  Nazarenus  is  as 
muche  for  to  seye  as  '  florisshinge,'  in 
which  a  man  shal  hope,  that  he  that 
yeveth  him  remission  of  sinnes  shal 
yeve  him  eek  grace  wel  for  to  do. 
For  in  the  floar  is  hope  of  fruit  in 
tyme  cominge;  and  in  foryifnesse  of 
sinnes  hope  of  grace  wel  for  to  do.  / 
'  I  was  atte  dore  of  thyn  herte,'  seith 
lesus,  'and  cleped  for  to  entre;  he 
that  openeth  to  me  shal  have  foryif- 
nesse of  sinne.  /  I  wol  entre  in-to 
him  by  my  grace,  and  soupe  with 
him,'  by  the  goode  werkes  that  he 
shal  doon;  whiche  werkes  been  the 
ft)ode  of  god;  'and  he  shal  soupe 
with  me,'  l^y  the  grete  loye  that  I 
shal  yeven  him.  /  Thus  shal  man  290 
hope,  for  hise   werkes  of  penaunce, 


291-312.] 


I.     THE   rEKSONKS   TALE. 


741 


that  go(!  shall  yeven  him  his  regne; 
as  he  bihoteth  him  in  the  gospel.  / 

§  14.  Now  shal  a  man  understunde, 
in  which  manere  shal  been  his  con- 
tricion.  I  seye,  that  it  shal  been 
universal  and  total;  this  is  to  seyn,  a 
man  shal  be  verray  repentant  for  alle 
hise  sinnes  that  he  hath  doon  in  delyt 
of  his  thoght;  for  delyt  is  ful  peril- 
ous. /  Eor  ther  been  two  manere 
of  consentinges;  that  oon  of  hem  is 
cleped  consentinge  of  affeccion,  when 
a  man  is  moeved  to  do  sinne,  and 
delyteth  him  longe  for  to  thinke  on 
that  sinne;  /  and  his  reson  aperceyv- 
eth  it  wel,  that  is  is  sinne  agayns  the 
lawe  of  god,  and  yet  his  reson  refreyn- 
eth  nat  his  foul  delyt  or  talent,  though 
he  se  wel  apertly  that  it  is  agayns  the 
reverence  of  god;  al-though  his  reson 
ne  consente  noght  to  doon  that  sinne 
in  dede,  /  yet  seyn  somme  doctours 
that  swich  delyt  that  dwelleth  longe, 
it  is   ful  perilous,  al  be  it  nevere  so 

295  lite.  /  And  also  a  man  sholde  sorwe, 
namely,  for  al  that  evere  he  hath 
desired  agayn  the  lawe  of  god  with 
perlit  consentinge  of  his  reson;  for 
ther-of  is  no  doute,  that  it  is  deedly 
sinne  in  consentinge.  /  For  cartes, 
ther  is  no  deedly  sinne,  that  it  nas 
first  in  niannes  thought,  and  after 
that  in  his  delyt;  and  so  forth  in-to 
consentinge  and  in-to  dede.  /  Wher- 
fore  I  seye,  that  many  men  ne  re- 
penten  hem  nevere  of  swiche  thoghtes 
and  delytes,  ne  nevere  shryven 
hem  of  it,  but  only  of  the  dede  of 
grete  sinnes  outward.  /  Wherfore 
I  seye,  that  swiche  wikked  delytes 
and  wikked  thoghtes  been  subtile 
bigyleres  of  hem  that  shuUen  be 
dampned.  /  More-over,  man  oghte 
to  sorwe  for  hise  wikkede  wordes  as 
wel  as  for  hise  wikkede  dedes;  for 
certes,  the  repentance  of  a  singuler 
sinne,  and  nat  repente  of  alle  hise 
othcre  sinnes,  or  elles  repenten  him 
of  alle  hise  othere  sinnes,  and  nat  of 

300  a  singuler  sinne,  may  nat  availle.  / 
For  certes,  god  almighty  is  al  good; 
and  ther-fore  he  foryeveth  al,  or  elles 
right    noght.  /      And   heer-of    seith 


seint  Augustin  :  '  I  woot  certeinly  / 
that  god  is  enemy  to  everich  sinnere  '; 
and  howthanne?  lie  that  iibserveth 
o  sinne,  shal  he  have  foryifnesse  of 
the  remenaunt  of  hise  othere  sinnes? 
Nay.  /  And  forther-uver,  contricion 
sholde  be  wonder  sorweful  and  an- 
guissous,  and  therfore  yeveth  him  god 
pleynly  his  mercy;  and  therfore,  whan 
my  soule  was  anguissous  with-inne 
me,  I  hadde  remembrance  of  god  that 
my  preyere  niighte  come  to  him.  / 
Forther-over,  contricion  moste  be 
continuel,  and  that  man  have  stedefast 
purpos  to  shryven  him,  and  for  to 
amenden  him  of  his  lyf.  /  P'or  305 
soothly,  whyl  contricion  lastcth,  man 
may  evere  have  hope  of  foryifnesse; 
and  of  this  comth  hate  of  sinne,  that 
destroyeth  sinne  bothe  in  hini-self, 
and  eek  in  other  folk,  at  his  power.  / 
For  which  seith  David :  '  ye  that 
loven  god  hateth  wikkednesse.'  For 
trusteth  wel,  to  love  god  is  for  to  love 
that  he  loveth,  and  hate  that  he 
hateth.  / 

§  15.  Thelaste  thing  that  man  shal 
understonde  in  contricion  is  this; 
wher-of  avayleth  contricion.  I  seye, 
that  somtyme  contricion  delivereth  a 
man  fro  sinne;  /  of  which  that  David 
seith  :  '  I  seye,'  quod  David,  that  is 
to  seyn,  '  I  purposed  fermely  to  shryve 
me;  and  thow.  Lord,  relesedest  my 
sinne.'  /  And  right  so  as  contricion 
availleth  noght,  with-outen  sad  pur- 
pos of  shrifte,  if  man  have  oportu- 
nitee,  right  so  litel  worth  is  shrifte  or 
satisfaccion  with-outen  contricion.  /  310 
And  more-over,  contricion  destroyeth 
the  prison  of  helle,  and  maketh  wayk 
and  feble  alle  the  strengthes  of  the 
develes,  and  restoreth  the  yiftes  of  the 
holy  goost  and  of  alle  gode  vertues;  / 
and  it  clenseth  the  soule  of  sinne, 
and  delivereth  the  soule  fro  the  peyne 
of  helle,  and  fro  the  companye  of  the 
devel,  and  fro  the  servage  of  sinne, 
and  restoreth  it  to  alle  godes  espir- 
ituels,  and  to  the  companye  and 
communion  of  holy  chirche.  /  And 
forther-over,  it  maketh  him  that 
whylom  was  sone  of  ire  to  be  sone 


742 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[313-334. 


of  grace;  and  alle  thise  thinges  been 
preved  by  holy  writ.  /  And  therfore, 
he  that  vvokle  sette  his  entente  to 
thise  thinges,  he  were  ful  wys;  for 
soothly,  he  ne  sholde  nat  thanne  in 
al  his  lyf  have  corage  to  sinne,  but 
yeven  his  body  and  al  his  herte  to 
the  service  of  lesu  Crist,  and  ther-of 
doon  him  hommage.  /  For  soothly, 
oure  swete  lord  lesu  Crist  hath  spared 
us  so  debonairly  in  our  folies,  that  if 
he  ne  hadde  pitee  of  niannes  soule,  a 
315  sory  song  we  mighten  alle  singe.  / 

Explicit  prima  pars  Penitentie  ;    el 
sequitur  secunda  pars  eiusdem. 

§  16.  The  seconde  partie  of  Peni- 
tence is  Ct)nfession,  that  is  signe  of 
contricion.  /  Now  shul  ye  under- 
stonde  what  is  Confession,  and  whether 
it  oghte  nedes  be  doon  or  noon,  and 
whiche  thinges  been  covenable  to 
verray  Confession.  / 

§  17.  First  shaltowunderstonde  that 
Confession  is  verray  shewinge  ofsinnes 
to  the  preest ;  /  this  is  to  sey n '  verray,' 
for  he  moste  confessen  him  of  alle 
the  condiciouns  that  bilongen  to  his 
sinne,  as  ferforth  as  he  can.  /  Al 
moot  be  seyd,  and  no  thing  excused 
ne  hid  ne  forwrapped,  and  noght 
320  avaunte  him  of  his  gode  werkes.  / 
And  forther  over,  it  is  necessarie  to 
understonde  whennes  that  sinnes 
springen,  and  how  they  encresen,  and 
whiche  they  been.  / 

§  18,  Of  the  springinge  of  sinnes 
seith  seint  Paul  in  this  wise :  that 
'  right  as  by  a  man  sinne  entred 
first  in-to  this  world,  and  thurgh  that 
sinne  deeth,  right  so  thilke  deeth 
entred  in-to  alle  men  that  sinneden.'/ 
And  this  man  was  Adam,  by  whom 
sinne  entred  in-to  this  world  whan  he 
brak  the  comaundement  of  god.  / 
And  therfore,  he  that  first  was  so 
mighty  that  he  sholde  not  have  dyed, 
bicam  swich  oon  that  he  moste  nedes 
dye,  whether  he  wolde  or  noon;  and 
all  his  progenie  in  this  world  that  in 
thilke  man  sinneden.  /  Loke  that  in 
thestaat  of  innocence,  when   Adam 


and  Eve  naked  weren  in  paradys,  and 
no-thing  ne  hadden  shame  of  hir  na- 
kednesse,  /  how  that  the  serpent,  that  325 
was  most  wyly  of  alle  othere  bestes 
that  god  hadde  maked,  seyde  to  the 
womman :  '  why  comaunded  god  to 
yow,  ye  sholde  nat  eten  of  every  tree 
in  paradys?'/  The  womman  an- 
swerde  :  '  of  the  fruit,'  quod  she,  '  of 
the  trees  in  paradys  we  feden  us;  but 
soothly,  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  that 
is  in  the  middel  of  paradys,  god  for- 
bad us  for  to  ete,  ne  nat  touchen  it, 
lest  per-aventure  we  should  dyen.'  / 
The  serpent  seyde  to  the  womman : 
'  nay,  nay,  ye  shul  nat  dyen  of  deeth; 
for  sothe,  god  woot,  that  what  day 
that  ye  eten  ther-of,  youre  eyen  shul 
opene,  and  ye  shul  been  as  goddes, 
knowinge  good  and  harm.'  /  The 
womman  thanne  saugh  that  the  tree 
was  good  to  feding,  and  fair  to  the 
eyen,  and  delytable  to  the  sighte ;  she 
tok  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree,  and  eet  it, 
and  yaf  to  hirhousbonde,  and  he  eet; 
and  anoon  the  eyen  of  hem  jjothe 
openeden.  /  And  whan  that  they 
knewe  that  they  were  naked,  they 
sowed  of  fige-leves  a  manere  of 
breches  to  hiden  hir  membres.  /  330 
There  may  ye  seen  that  deedly  sinne 
hath  first  suggestion  of  the  feend,  as 
sheweth  here  by  the  naddre;  and 
afterward,  the  delyt  of  the  flesh,  as 
sheweth  here  by  Eve;  and  after  that, 
the  consentinge  of  resoun,  as  sheweth 
here  by  Adam.  /  For  trust  wel,  thogh 
so  were  that  the  feend  tempted  Eve, 
that  is  to  seyn  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh 
hadde  delyt  in  the  beautee  of  the 
fruit  defended,  yet  certes,  til  that 
resoun,  that  is  to  seyn,  Adam,  con- 
sented to  the  etinge  of  the  fruit,  yet 
stood  he  in  thestaat  of  innocence.  / 
Of  thilke  Adam  toke  we  thilke  sinne 
original ;  for  of  him  fleshly  descended 
be  we  alle,  and  engendred  of  vile  and 
corrupt  matere.  /  And  whan  the 
soule  is  put  in  our  body,  right  anon 
is  contract  original  sinne ;  and  that, 
that  was  erst  l)ut  only  peyne  of  con- 
cupiscence, is  afterward  bothe  peyne 
and  sinne.  /      And   therfore   be  we 


335-355- 


I.     THE    TEKSUNKS   TALE. 


743 


alle  born  soiies  of  wratthe  and  of 
(lampnacion  perdurable,  if  it  nere 
baptcsme  that  we  receyven,  which 
binimeth  us  the  culpe;  but  for  sothe, 
the  peyne  dwellclh  with  us,  as  to 
temptacion,  which  peyne  highte  con- 

335  cupisccnce.  /  Whan  it  is  wrongfully 
disposed  or  ordeyned  in  man,  it 
maketh  him  coveite,  by  coveitise  of 
flesh,  llcshly  sinne,  by  sighte  of  hise 
eyen  as  to  erthely  thinges,  and  cov- 
eitise of  hynesse  by  pryde  of  herte.  / 
§  19.  Now  as  for  to  speken  of  the 
firste  coveitise,  that  is,  concupiscence 
after  the  lawe  of  oure  membres,  that 
vvercn  lawefuUiche  y-maked  and  by 
rightful  lugcnient  of  goil;  /  I  seye, 
for-as-muche  as  man  is  nat  obeisaunt 
to  god,  that  is  his  lord,  therfore  is  the 
flesh  to  him  disobeisaunt  thurgh  con- 
cupiscence, which  yet  is  cleped  noris- 
singe  of  sinne  and  occasion  of 
sinne.  /  Therfore,  al  the  whyle  that 
a  man  hath  in  him  the  peyne  of  con- 
cupiscence, it  is  impossible  but  he  be 
tempted  somtyme,  and  moeved  in  his 
flesh  to  sinne.  /  And  this  thing  may 
nat  faille  as  longe  as  he  liveth ;  it  may 
wel  wexe  feble  and  faille,  by  vertu  of 
baptesme  and   by  the   grace   of  god 

340  thurgh  penitence;  /  but  fully  ne  shal 
it  nevere  quenche,  that  he  ne  shal  som- 
tyme be  moeved  in  him-self,  but-if  he 
were  al  refreyded  by  siknesse,  or  by 
malefice  of  sorcerie  orcolde  drinkes.  / 
For  lo,  what  seith  seint  Paul :  '  the 
flesh  coveiteth  agayn  the  spirit,  and 
the  spirit  agayn  the  flesh;  they  been 
so  contrarie  and  so  stryven,  that  a  man 
may  nat  alwey  doon  as  he  wolde.'  / 
The  same  seint  Paul,  after  his  grete 
penaunce  in  water  and  in  lond  (in 
water  by  night  and  by  day,  in  greet 
peril  and  in  greet  peyne,  in  lond,  in 
famine,  inthurst,incold  and  clothlees, 
and  ones  stoned  almost  to  the  deeth)  / 
yet  seyde  he  :  '  alias  !  I,  caytif  man, 
who  shal  delivere  me  fro  the  prisoun 
of  my  caytif  body?'/  And  seint 
lerome,  whan  he  longe  tyme  hadde 
woned  in  desert,  where-ashe  hadde  no 
companye  Jjut  of  wilde  bestes,  where- 
as he  nc  hadde  no  mete  but  herbes 


and  water  to  his  drinke,  ne  no  bed 
but  the  naked  erthe,  for  which  his 
flesh  was  Idak  as  an  Ethiopen  for  hete 
and  ny  destroyed  for  cold,  /  yet  seyde  345 
he :  that  '  the  brenninge  of  lecherie 
boiled  in  al  his  body.'  /  Wherfore 
I  woot  wel  sikerly,  that  they  been 
deceyvetl  that  seyn,  that  they  ne  be 
nat  tempted  in  hir  body.  /  Witnesse 
on  Seint  lame  the  Apostel,  that  seith  : 
that  '  every  wight  is  tempted  in  his 
owen  concupiscence  ';  that  is  to  seyn, 
that  everich  of  us  hath  matere  and 
occasion  to  be  tempted  of  the  noris- 
singe  of  sinne  that  is  in  his  body.  / 
And  therfore  seith  Seint  lohn  the 
Evaungelist :  '  if  that  we  seyn  that  we 
beth  with-oute  sinne,  we  deceyve  us- 
selve,  and  trouthe  is  nat  in  us.'  / 

§  20.  Now  shal  ye  understonde  in 
what  manere  that  sinne  wexeth  or 
encreseth  in  man.  The  firste  thing  is 
thilke  norissinge  of  sinne,  of  which 
I  spak  biforn,  thilke  fleshly  concu- 
piscence. /  And  after  that  comth  350 
the  subieccion  of  the  devel,  this  is  to 
seyn,  the  develes  bely,  with  which  he 
bloweth  in  man  the  fyr  of  fleshly  con- 
cupiscence. /  And  after  that,  a  man 
bithinketh  him  whether  he  wol  doon, 
or  no,  thilke  thing  to  which  he  is 
tempted.  /  And  thanne,  if  that  a 
man  withstonde  and  weyve  the  tirste 
entysinge  of  his  flesh  and  of  the 
feend,  thanne  is  it  no  sinne;  and  if 
it  so  be  that  he  do  nat  so,  thanne 
feleth  he  anon  a  flambe  of  delyt./ 
And  thanne  is  it  good  to  be  war,  and 
kepen  him  wel,  or  elles  he  wol  falle 
anon  in-to  consentinge  of  sinne;  and 
thanne  wol  he  do  it,  if  he  may  have 
tyme  and  place.  /  And  of  this 
matere  seith  Moyses  by  the  devel  in 
this  manere:  'the  feend  seith,  I  wole 
chace  and  pursue  the  man  liy  vvikked 
suggestion,  and  I  wole  hente  him  by 
moevynge  or  stiringe  of  sinne.  I 
wol  departe  my  pryse  or  my  praye  by 
tleliberacion,  and  my  lust  shal  been 
accompliced  in  delyt;  I  wol  drawe 
my  swerd  in  consentinge  :  '  /  for  355 
certes,  right  as  a  swerd  departeth  a 
thing  in  two  peces,  right  so  consent- 


744 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[35^375- 


inge  departeth  god  fro  man :  '  and 
thanne  wol  I  sleen  him  with  myn 
hand  in  dede  of  sinne '  ;  thus  seith 
the  feend.  /  For  certes,  thanne  is  a 
man  al  deed  in  soule.  And  thus  is 
sinne  accompUced  by  teniptacion,  by 
delyt,  and  by  consentinge;  and 
thanne  is  the  sinne  cleped  actueh  / 
§  21.  P'or  sothe,  sinne  is  in  two 
maneres;  outher  it  is  venial,  or 
deedly  sinne.  Soothly,  whan  man 
loveth  any  creature  more  than  lesu 
Crist  oure  creatour,  thanne  is  it 
deedly  sinne.  And  venial  synne  is 
it,  if  man  love  lesu  Crist  lasse  than 
him  oghte.  /  For  sothe,  the  dede  of 
this  venial  sinne  is  ful  perilous;  for 
it  amenuseth  the  love  that  men 
sholde  han  to  god  more  and  more.  / 
And  therfore,  if  a  man  charge  him- 
self with  manye  swiche  venial  sinnes, 
certes,  but-if  so  be  that  he  som  tyme 
descharge  him  of  hem  by  shrifte,  they 
mowe  ful  lightly  amenuse  in  him  al 

360  the  love  that  he  hath  to  lesu  Crist;  / 
and  in  this  wise  skippeth  venial  in-to 
deedly  sinne.  For  certes,  the  more 
that  a  man  chargeth  his  soule  with 
venial  sinnes,  the  more  is  he  enclyned 
to  fallen  in-to  deedly  sinne.  /  And 
therfore,  let  us  nat  be  necligent  to 
deschargen  us  of  venial  sinnes.  For 
the  proverbe  seith  :  that  manye  smale 
maken  a  greet.  /  And  herkne  this 
ensample.  A  greet  wawe  of  the  see 
comth  soni-tyme  with  so  greet  a 
violence  that  it  drencheth  the  ship. 
And  the  same  harm  doth  som-tyme 
the  smale  dropesof  water,  that  entren 
thurgh  a  litel  crevace  in-to  the  thur- 
rok,  and  in-to  the  botme  of  the  ship, 
if  men  be  so  necligent  that  they  ne 
descharge  hem  nat  by  tyme.  /  And 
therfore,  al-thogh  ther  be  a  difference 
bitwixe  thise  two  causes  of  drench- 
inge,  algates  the  ship  is  dreynt.  / 
Right  so  fareth  it  somtyme  of  deedly 
sinne,  and  of  anoyouse  veniale  sinnes, 
whan  they  multiplye  in  a  man  so 
greetly,  that  thilke  worldly  thinges 
that  he  loveth,  thurgh  whiche  he 
sinneth   venially,  is   as   greet  in  his 

365  herte  as  the  love  of  god,  or  more.  / 


And  therfore,  the  love  of  every  thing, 
that  is  nat  biset  in  god  ne  doon  prin- 
cipally for  goddes  sake,  al-though 
that  a  man  love  it  lasse  than  god,  yet 
is  it  venial  sinne;  /  and  deedly  sinne, 
whan  the  love  of  any  thing  weyeth  in 
the  herte  of  man  as  muchel  as  the 
love  of  god,  or  more.  /  '  Deedly 
sinne,'  as  seith  seint  Augustin,  '  is, 
whan  a  man  turneth  his  herte  fro  god, 
which  that  is  verray  sovereyn  bountee, 
that  may  nat  chaunge,  and  yeveth  his 
herte  to  thing  that  may  chaunge  and 
flitte '  ;  /  and  certes,  that  is  every 
thing,  save  god  of  hevene.  For  sooth 
is,  that  if  a  man  yeve  his  love,  the 
which  that  he  oweth  al  to  god  with 
al  his  herte,  un-to  a  creature,  certes, 
as  muche  of  his  love  as  he  yeveth  to 
thilke  creature,  so  muche  he  bireveth 
fro  god;  /  and  therfore  doth  he 
sinne.  For  he,  that  is  dettour  to 
god,  ne  yeldeth  nat  to  god  al  his 
dette,  that  is  to  seyn,  al  the  love  of 
his  herte.  /  37° 

§  22.  Now  sith  man  understondeth 
generally,  which  is  venial  sinne, 
thanne  is  it  covenable  to  tellen  speci- 
ally of  sinnes  whiche  that  many  a 
man  per-aventure  ne  demeth  hem 
nat  sinnes,  and  ne  shryveth  him  nat 
of  the  same  thinges;  and  yet  nathe- 
lees  they  been  sinnes.  /  Soothly,  as 
thise  clerkes  wryten,  this  is  to  seyn, 
that  at  every  tyme  that  a  man  eteth 
or  drinketh  more  than  suffyseth  to 
the  sustenaunce  of  his  body,  in  certein 
he  dooth  sinne.  /  And  eek  whan  he 
speketh  more  than  nedeth,  it  is 
sinne.  Eke  whan  he  herkneth  nat 
benignely  the  compleint  of  the 
povre.  /  Eke  whan  he  is  in  hele 
of  body  and  wol  nat  faste,  whan 
othere  folk  faste,  withouten  cause 
resonable.  Eke  whan  he  slepeth 
more  than  nedeth,  or  whan  he  comth 
by  thilke  enchesoun  to  late  to  chirche, 
or  to  othere  werkes  of  charite.  / 
Eke  whan  he  useth  his  wyf,  withouten 
sovereyn  desyr  of  engendrure,  to  the 
honour  of  god,  or  for  the  entente  to 
yelde  to  his  wyf  the  dette  of  his 
body.  /     Eke  whan  he  wol  nat  visite  375 


376-395-] 


I.   thp:  person  es  tale. 


745 


the  sikc  and  the  prisoner,  if  he  may. 
Eke  if  he  love  wyf  or  child,  or  other 
worldly  thing,  more  than  resoun 
re(iuyreth.  Eke  if  he  (latere  or  blan- 
dishe  more  than  him  oghte  for  any 
necessitee.  /  Eke  if  he  amenuse  or 
withdrawe  the  almesse  of  the  povre. 
Eke  if  he  apparailleth  his  mete  more 
deliciously  than  nede  is,  or  ete  it  to 
hastily  by  likerousnesse./  Eke  if  he 
tale  vanitecs  at  chirche  or  at  godtles 
service,  or  that  he  be  a  talker  of  ydel 
wordes  of  folye  or  of  vileinye;  for 
he  shal  yelden  acountes  of  it  at  the 
day  of  dome.  /  Eke  whan  he  bihe- 
teth  or  assureth  to  do  thinges  that  he 
may  nat  perfourne.  Eke  whan  that 
he,  by  lightnesse  or  folie,  misseyeth 
or  scorneth  his  neighebore.  /  Eke 
whan  he  hath  any  wikked  suspecion 
of  thing,  ther    he  ne  woot  of   it    no 

380  soothfastnesse.  /  Thise  thinges  and 
mo  with-oute  nombre  been  sinnes,  as 
seith  seint  Augustin./ 

Now  shal  men  understonde,  that 
al-be-it  so  that  noon  erthely  man  may 
eschue  alle  venial  sinnes,  yet  may  he 
refreyne  him  by  the  brenninge  love 
that  he  hath  to  oure  lord  lesu  Crist, 
and  by  preyeres  and  confession  and 
othere  gode  werkes,  so  that  it  shal 
but  litel  greve.  /  For,  as  seith  seint 
Augustin :  '  if  a  man  love  god  in 
swiche  manere,  that  al  that  evere  he 
doth  is  in  the  love  of  god,  and  for  the 
love  of  god  verraily,  for  he  brenneth 
in  the  love  of  god  :  /  loke,  how  muche 
that  a  drope  of  water  that  falleth  in  a 
fourneys  ful  of  fyr  anoyeth  or  greveth, 
so  muche  anoyeth  a  venial  sinne  un-to 
a  man  that  is  parlit  in  the  love  of  lesu 
Crist.'  /  Men  may  also  refreyne  venial 
sinne  i)y  receyvinge   worthily  of  the 

3S5  precious  body  of  lesu  Crist;  /  by 
receyving  eek  of  holy  water;  by 
almesdede;  by  general  confession  of 
Coiijiteor  at  masse  and  at  complin; 
and  by  blessinge  of  bisshopes  and 
of  preestes,  and  by  othere  gode 
werkes.  / 

Explicit  secitnda  pars   Peniteiiiie. 


Scqiiitur  ik  Septan  Peccalis  Mortali- 
Inis  et  eorum  dcpendenciis  circutn- 
stanciis  et  speciebus. 

§  23.  Now  is  it  bihovely  thing  to 
telle  whiche  been  the  deedly  sinnes, 
this  is  to  seyn,  chieftaines  of  sinnes; 
alle  they  renne  in  o  lees,  but  in  diverse 
maneres.  Now  been  they  cleped 
chieftaines  for-as-muche  as  they  been 
chief,  and  springers  of  alle  othere 
sinnes.  /  Of  the  roote  of  thise  sevene 
sinnes  thanne  is  Pryde,  the  general 
rote  of  alle  harmes;  for  of  this  rote 
springen  certein  braunches,  as  Ire, 
Envye,  Accidie  or  Slewthe,  Avarice 
or  Coveitise  (to  commune  under- 
stondinge),CJlotonye,  and  Lecherye.  / 
And  everich  of  thise  chief  sinnes  hath 
hise  braunches  and  hise  twigges,  as 
shal  be  declared  in  hir  chapitres 
folwinge. 

De    Superbia. 

§  24.  And  thogh  so  be  that  no  man 
can  outrely  telle  the  nombre  of  the 
twigges  and  of  the  harmes  that  Com- 
eth of  Pryde,  yet  wol  I  shewe  a  partie 
of  hem,  as  ye  shul  understonde.  /  39" 
Ther  is  Inobedience,  Avauntinge, 
Ipocrisie,  Despyt,  Arrogance,  Impu- 
dence, Swellinge  of  herte.  Insolence, 
Elacion,  Impacience,  Strif,  Contuma- 
cie,  Presumpcion,  Irreverence,  Perti- 
nacie,  Veyne  Glorie;  and  many 
another  twig  that  I  can  nat  declare.  / 
Inobedient,  is  he  that  disobeyeth  for 
despyt  to  the  comandements  of  god 
and  to  hise  sovereyns,  and  to  his 
goostly  fader.  /  Avauntour,  is  he 
that  bosteth  of  the  harm  or  of  the 
bountee  that  he  hath  doon.  /  Ipo- 
crite,  is  he  that  hydeth  to  shewe  him 
swiche  as  he  is,  and  sheweth  him 
swiche  as  he  noght  is.  /  Despitous, 
is  he  that  hath  desdeyn  of  his  neighe- 
bore, that  is  to  seyn,  of  his  evene- 
cristene,  or  hath  despyt  to  doon  that 
him  oghte  to  do.  /  Arrogant,  is  he  that  395 
thinkcth  that  he  hath  thilke  bountees 
in  him  that  he  hath  noght,  or  weneth 
that  he  sholde  have  hem  by  hise 
desertes;    or  elles  he  demeth  that  he 


746 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[396-420. 


be  that  he  nis  nat.  /  Impudent,  is 
he  that  for  his  pride  hath  no  shame  of 
hise  sinnes.  /  Swellinge  of  herte,  is 
whan  a  man  reioyseth  him  of  harm 
that  he  hath  doon.  /  Insolent,  is  he 
that  despyseth  in  his  lugement  alle 
othere  folk  as  to  regard  of  his  value, 
and  of  his  conning,  and  of  his  spell- 
ing, and  of  his  bering.  /  Elacion,  is 
whan  he  ne  may  neither  suffre  to  have 
400  maister  ne  felawe.  /  Impacient,  is 
he  that  wol  nat  been  y-taught  ne 
undernome  of  his  vyce,  and  by  stryf 
werreieth  trouthe  witingly,  and  def- 
fendeth  his  folye.  /  Contuinax,  is  he 
that  thurgh  his  indignacion  is  agayns 
everich  auctoritee  or  power  of  hem 
that  been  hise  sovereyns.  /  Pres  imp- 
cion,  is  whan  a  man  undertaketh  an 
empryse  that  him  oghte  nat  do,  or 
elles  that  he  may  nat  do;  and  that  is 
called  Surquidrie.  Irreverence,  is 
whan  men  do  nat  honour  there-as  hem 
oghte  to  doon,  and  waiten  to  be 
reverenced.  /  Pertinacie,  is  whan 
man  deffendeth  his  folye,  and  trusteth 
to  muchel  in  his  owene  wit.  /  Veyne 
glorie,  is  for  to  have  pompe  and  delyt 
in  his  temporel  hynesse,  and  glorifie 
405  him  in  this  worldly  estaat.  /  langlinge, 
is  whan  men  speken  to  muche  biforn 
folk,  and  clappen  as  a  mille,  and  taken 
no  kepe  what  they  seye.  / 

§  25.  And  yet  is  ther  a  privee  spece 
of  Pryde,  that  waiteth  first  to  be 
salewed  er  he  wole  salewe,  al  be  he 
lasse  worth  than  that  other  is,  per- 
aventure;  and  eek  he  waiteth  or  de- 
syreth  to  sitte,  or  elles  to  goon  above 
him  in  the  wey,  or  kisse  pax,  or  been 
encensed,  or  goon  to  offring  biforn 
his  neighebore,  /  and  swiche  sem- 
blable  thinges;  agayns  his  duetee, 
per-aventure,  but  that  he  hath  his 
herte  and  his  entente  in  swich  a  proud 
desyr  to  be  magnifyed  and  honoured 
biforn  the  peple.  / 

§  26.  Now  been  ther  two  maneres 
of  Pryde;  that  oon  of  hem  is  with- 
inne  the  herte  of  man,  and  that  other 
is  with-oute.  /  Of  whiche  soothly 
thise  forseyde  thinges,  and  mo  than  I 
have  seyd,  apertenen  to  pryde  that  is 


in  the  herte  of  man;  and  that  othere 
speces  of  pryde  been  with-oute.  /  410 
But  natheles  that  oon  of  thise  speces 
of  pryde  is  signe  of  that  other,  right 
as  the  gaye  leefsel  atte  taverne  is 
signe  of  the  wyn  that  is  in  the  celer.  / 
And  this  is  in  manye  thinges :  as  in 
speche  and  countenaunce,  and  in  out- 
rageous array  of  clothing;  /  for  certes, 
if  ther  ne  hadde  be  no  sinne  in 
clothing,  Crist  wolde  nat  have  noted 
and  spoken  of  the  clothing  of  thilke 
riche  man  in  the  gospel.  /  And,  as 
seith  Seint  Gregorie,  that  precious 
clothing  is  coupable  for  the  derthe  of 
it,  and  for  his  softenesse,  and  for  his 
strangenesse  and  degysinesse,  and  for 
the  superfluitee,  or  for  the  inordinat 
scantnesse  of  it.  /  Alias  !  may  men 
nat  seen,  as  in  cure  dayes,  the  sinful 
costlewe  array  of  clothinge,  and 
namely  in  to  muche  superfluitee,  or 
elles  in  to  desordinat  scantnesse  ?  /     415 

§  27.  As  to  the  firste  sinne,  that  is 
in  superfluitee  of  clothinge,  which 
that  maketh  it  so  dere,  to  harm  of 
the  peple  ;  /  nat  only  the  cost  of 
embroudinge,  the  degyse  endentinge 
or  barringe,  oundinge,  palinge,  wind- 
inge,  or  bendinge,  and  semblable 
wast  of  clooth  in  vanitee  ;  /  but  ther 
is  also  costlewe  furringe  in  hir  gounes, 
so  muche  pounsoninge  of  chisels  to 
maken  holes,  so  muche  dagginge  of 
sheres  ;  /  forth-with  the  superfluitee 
in  lengtheof  the  forseide  gounes,  trail- 
inge  in  the  dong  and  in  the  myre,  on 
horse  and  eek  on  fote,  as  wel  of  man 
as  of  womman,  that  al  thilke  trailing 
is  verraily  as  in  effect  wasted,  con- 
sumed, thredbare,  and  roten  with 
donge,  rather  than  it  is  yeven  to  the 
povre;  to  greet  damage  of  the  for- 
seyde povre  folk.  /  And  that  in 
sondry  wyse  :  this  is  to  seyn,  that  the 
more  that  clooth  is  wasted,  the  more 
it  costeth  to  the  peple  for  the  scant- 
nesse; /and  further-over,  if  so  be 420 
that  they  wolde  yeven  swich  poun- 
soned  and  dagged  clothing  to  the 
povre  folk,  it  is  nat  convenient  to  , 
were  for  hir  estaat,  ne  suffisant  to 
bete  hir  necessitee,  to  kepe  hem  fro 


421-443] 


I.    THE   TERSONES   TALE. 


747 


the  distcmperancc  of  the  firmament.  / 
Upon  that  utlier  syde,  to  speken  of 
the  horril)le  disordinat  scantnesse  of 
clothing,  as  been  thise  culted  sloppes 
or  hainselins,  that  thurgh  hir  short- 
nesse  ne  covere  nat  the  shameful 
membres  of  man,  to  wikked  entente./ 
Alias !  somme  of  hem  shewen  the 
boce  of  hir  shap,  and  the  horrible 
swollen  membres,  that  semeth  lyk 
the  maladie  of  hirnia,  in  the  wrap- 
pinge  of  hir  hoses;  /  and  eek  the 
buttokes  of  hem  faren  as  it  were  the 
hindre  part  of  a  she-ape  in  the  fulle  of 
the  mone.  /  And  more-over,  the 
wrecched  swollen  membres  that  they 
shewe  thurgh  the  degysinge,  in  de- 
partinge  of  hir  hoses  in  whyt  and 
reed,  semeth   that  half  hir  shameful 

425  privee  membres  weren  flayn.  /  And 
if  so  be  that  they  departen  hire  hoses 
in  othere  colours,  as  is  whyt  and 
blak,  or  whyt  and  blew,  or  blak  and 
reed,  and  so  forth;  /  thanne  semeth 
it,  as  by  variance  of  colour,  that  half 
the  partie  of  hir  privee  membres 
were  corrupt  by  the  fyr  of  seint 
Antony,  or  by  cancre,  or  by  other 
swich  meschaunce.  /  Of  the  hindre 
part  of  hir  buttokes,  it  is  ful  horrible 
for  to  see.  For  certes,  in  that  partie 
of  hir  body  ther-as  they  purgen  hir 
stinkinge  ordure,  /  that  foule  partie 
shewe  they  to  the  peple  proudly  in 
despyt  of  honestetee,  the  which  hon- 
estetee  that  lesu  Crist  and  hise 
freendes  observede  to  shewen  in  hir 
lyve.  /  Now  as  of  the  outrageous 
array  of  wommen,  god  woot,  that 
though  the  visages  of  somme  of  hem 
seme  ful  chaast  and  debonaire,  yet 
notifie  they  in  hir  array  of  atyr  liker- 

430  ousnesse  and  pryde.  /  I  sey  nat 
that  honestetee  in  clothinge  of  man 
or  womman  is  uncovenalile,  but 
certes  the  superfluitee  or  disordinat 
scantitee  of  clothinge  is  reprevable.  / 
Also  the  sinne  of  aornement  or  of 
apparaille  is  in  thingcs  that  apertenen 
to  rydinge,  as  in  to  manye  dclicat 
horses  that  been  htjlden  for  delyt, 
that  been  so  faire,  fatte,  and  C()st- 
lewe;  /  and  also  to   many  a  vicious 


knave  that  is  sustened  by  cause  of 
hem;  in  to  curious  barneys,  as  in 
sadelcs,  in  crouperes,  pcytrels,  and 
brydles  covered  with  precious  cloth- 
ing and  riche,  barres  and  plates  of 
gold  and  of  silver.  /  For  which  god 
seith  by  Zakarie  the  prophete,  '  I  wol 
confounde  the  rydercs  of  swiche 
horses.'  /  This  folk  taken  litel  re- 
ward of  the  rydinge  of  goddes  sone 
of  hevene,  ami  of  his  barneys  whan 
he  rood  up-on  the  asse,  and  ne  hadde 
noon  other  barneys  but  the  povre 
clothes  of  hise  disciples;  ne  we  ne 
rede  nat  that  evere  he  rood  on  other 
beest.  /  I  speke  this  for  the  sinne  435 
of  superfluitee,  and  nat  for  reasona- 
ble honestetee,  whan  reson  it  requyr- 
eth.  /  And  forther,  certes  pryde  is 
greetly  notified  in  holdinge  of  greet 
meinee,  whan  they  be  of  litel  profit 
or  of  right  no  profit.  /  And  namely, 
whan  that  meinee  is  felonous  and 
damageous  to  the  peple,  by  hardi- 
nesse  of  heigh  lordshipe  or  by  wey  of 
offices.  /  Fur  certes,  swiche  lordcs 
sellen  thanne  hir  lordshipe  to  the 
devel  of  helle,  whanne  they  sustenen 
the  wikkednesse  of  hir  meinee.  / 
Or  elles  whan  this  folk  of  lowe  de- 
gree, as  thilke  that  holden  hostelries, 
sustenen  the  thefte  of  hir  hostilers, 
and  that  is  in  many  manere  of  de- 
ceites./  Thilke  manere  of  folk  been  440 
the  flyes  that  fohven  the  hony,  or  elles 
the  houndes  that  folwen  the  careyne. 
Swiche  forseyde  folk  stranglen  spirit- 
ually hir  lordshipes;  /  for  which  thus 
seith  David  the  prophete,  '  wikked 
deeth  mote  come  up-on  thilke  lord- 
shipes, andgodyeve  that  they  mote  de- 
scenden  in-to  helle  al  doun  ;  for  in  hir 
houses  ben  iniquitees  and  shrewecl- 
nesses,'  and  nat  god  of  hevene.  /  And 
certes,  but-if  they  doon  amendement, 
right  as  god  yaf  his  benison  to  Laban 
by  the  service  of  Jacob,  and  to  Piia- 
rao  by  the  service  of  loseph,  right  so 
god  wol  yeve  his  malison  to  swiche 
lordshipes  as  sustenen  the  wikketl- 
nesse  of  hir  servaunts,  but-if  they 
come  to  amendement.  /  Pryde  of 
the  table  appereth  eek  ful  ofte;  for 


748 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[444-468. 


certes,  riche  men  been  cleped  to 
festes,  and  povre  folk  been  put  awey 
and  rebuked.  /  Also  in  excesse  of 
diverse  metes  and  drinkes ;  and 
namely,  swiche  manere  bake  metes 
and  dish-metes,  brenninge  of  wilde 
fyr,  and  peynted  and  castelled  with 
papir,  and  semblable  wast;    so  that  it 

445  is  abusion  for  to  thinke.  /  And  eek 
in  to  greet  preciousnesse  of  vessel  and 
curiositee  of  minstralcie,  by  vvhiche  a 
man  is  stired  the  more  to  delyces  of 
luxurie,  /  if  so  be  that  he  sette  his 
herte  the  lasse  up-on  oure  lord  lesu 
Crist,  certein  it  is  a  sinne;  and  cer- 
teinly  the  delyces  mighte  been  so 
grete  in  this  caas,  that  man  mighte 
lightly  falle  by  hein  in-to  deedly 
sinne.  /  The  especes  that  sourden 
of  pryde,  soothly  whan  they  sourden 
of  malice  ymagined,  avysed,  and  forn- 
cast,  or  elles  of  usage,  been  deedly 
synnes,  it  is  no  doute.  /  And  whan 
they  sourden  by  freletee  unavysed 
sodeinly,  and  sodeinly  withdrawen 
ayein,  al  been  they  grevouse  sinnes,  I 
gesse  that  they  ne  been  nat  deedly.  / 
Now  mighte  men  axe  wher-of  that 
Pryde  sourdeth  and  springeth,  and  I 
seye :  somtyme  it  springeth  of  the 
goodes  of  nature,  and  som-tyme  of 
the  goodes  of  fortune,  and  som-tyme 

450  of  the  goodes  of  grace.  /  Certes,  the 
goodes  of  nature  stonden  outher 
in  goodes  of  body  or  in  goodes  of 
soule.  /  Certes,  goodes  of  body  been 
hele  of  body,  as  strengthe,  deliver- 
nesse,  beautee,  gentrye,  franchise.  / 
Goodes  of  nature  of  the  soule  been 
good  wit,  sharp  understondynge,  sub- 
til engin,  vertu  naturel,  good  memo- 
rie.  /  Goodes  of  fortune  been  rich- 
esses,  highe  degrees  of  lordshipes, 
preisinges  of  the  peple.  /  Goodes 
of  grace  been  science,  power  to  suffre 
spirituel  travaille,  benignitee,  vertuous 
contemplacion,      withstondinge       of 

455  temptacion,  and  semblable  thinges.  / 
Of  whiche  forseyde  goodes,  certes  it 
is  a  ful  greet  folye  a  man  to  pryden 
him  in  any  of  hem  alle.  /  Now  as 
for  to  speken  of  goodes  of  nature, 
god    woot     that   som-tyme    we   han 


hem  in  nature  as  muche  to  oure 
damage  as  to  oure  profit.  /  As,  for 
to  speken  of  hele  of  body;  certes  it 
passeth  ful  lightly,  and  eek  it  is  ful 
ofte  encheson  of  the  siknesse  of  oure 
soule;  for  god  woot,  the  flesh  is  a  ful 
greet  enemy  to  the  soule :  and  ther- 
fore,  the  more  that  the  body  is  hool, 
the  more  be  we  in  peril  to  falle.  / 
Eke  for  to  pryde  him  in  his  strengthe 
of  body,  it  is  an  heigh  folye;  for 
certes,  the  flesh  coveiteth  agayn  the 
spirit,  and  ay  the  more  strong  that 
the  flesh  is,  the  sorier  may  the  soule 
be :  /  and,  over  al  this,  strengthe  of 
body  and  worldly  hardinesse  causeth 
ful  ofte  many  a  man  to  peril  and  mes- 
chaunce.  /  Eek  for  to  pryde  him  460 
of  his  gentrye  is  ful  greet  folye;  for 
ofte  tyme  the  gentrye  of  the  body 
binimeth  the  gentrye  of  the  soule; 
and  eek  we  ben  alle  of  o  fader  and 
of  o  moder;  and  alle  we  been  of  o 
nature  roten  and  corrupt,  both  riche 
and  povre.  /  Eor  sothe,  o  manere 
gentrye  is  for  to  preise,  that  appar- 
aillelh  mannes  corage  with  vertues 
and  moralitees,  and  maketh  him 
Cristes  child.  /  For  truste  wel,  that 
over  what  man  sinne  hath  maistrie, 
he  is  a  verray  cherl  to  sinne.  / 

§  28.  Now  been  ther  generale 
signes  of  gentilesse;  as  eschew- 
inge  of  vyce  and  ribaudye  and  serv- 
age  of  sinne,  in  word,  in  werk,  and 
contenance;  /and  usinge  vertu,  cur- 
teisye,  and  clennessse,  and  to  be 
liberal,  that  is  to  seyn,  large  by 
mesure;  for  thilke  that  passeth 
mesure  is  folye  and  sinne.  /  An-  465 
other  is,  to  remembre  him  of  boun- 
tee  that  he  of  other  folk  hath 
receyved.  /  Another  is,  to  be  be- 
nigne  to  hise  goode  subgetis; 
wherfore,  as  seith  Senek,  '  ther  is 
no-thing  more  covenable  to  a  man 
of  heigh  estaat  than  debonairetee 
and  pitee.  /  And  therfore  thise 
flyes  that  men  clepeth  bees,  whan 
they  maken  hir  king,  they  chesen 
oon  that  hath  no  prikke  wherwith 
he  may  stinge.'  /  Another  is,  a 
man    to   have   a   noble  herte  and  a 


•I 


469-4SS.] 


I.     THE   PERSONES   TALE. 


749 


diligent,  to  attayne  to  heighe  vcrtu- 
ouse  thinges.  /  Now  certes,  a  man 
to  pryde  him  in  the  goodes  of  grace 
is  eelc  an  outrageous  folye;  for  thilke 
yiftes  of  grace  that  shohle  have  turned 
him  to  gooihiesse  and  to  medicine, 
turneth  him  to  venim  and  to  confu- 
470  sion,  as  seith  seint  CJregorie./  Certes 
also,  who-so  prydeth  him  in  the 
gotxles  of  fortune,  he  is  a  ful  greet 
fool;  forsom-tyme  is  a  man  a  greet 
lord  by  the  niorwe,  that  is  a  caitif  and 
a  wrecche  er  it  be  night :  /  and  som- 
tyme  the  richesse  of  a  man  is  cause 
of  his  deeth;  somtynic  the  delyces  of 
a  man  is  cause  of  the  grevous  nialadye 
thurgh  which  he  dyeth.  /  Certes, 
the  commendacion  of  the  peple  is 
somtyme  ful  fals  and  ful  lirotel  for  to 
triste;  this  day  they  preyse,  tomorwe 
they  blame.  /  God  woot,  desyr  to 
have  commendacion  of  the  peple  hath 
caused  deeth  to  many  a  bisy  man.  / 

Remcditiin  contra  peccatum 

Siiperhie. 

§  29.     Now    sith    that  so    is,  that 

ye  han    understonde  what   is   pryde, 

and   whiche  been   the   speces  of  it, 

and    whennes    pride    sourdeth    and 

4-5  springeth;  /  now  shul  ye  under- 
stonde which  is  the  remedie  agayns 
the  sinne  of  pryde,  and  that  is,  hu- 
militee  or  mei<enesse.  /  That  is  a 
vertu,  thurgh  which  a  man  hath 
verray  knoweleche  of  him-self,  and 
holdeth  of  him-self  no  prys  ne  deyn- 
tee  as  in  regard  of  hise  desertes, 
consideringe  evere  hise  freletee.  / 
Now  been  ther  three  maneres  of 
humilitec;  as  humiltee  in  herte,  antl 
another  humilitee  in  his  mouth;  the 
thridde  in  hise  werkes.  /  The  hu- 
militee in  herte  is  in  foure  maneres : 
that  oon  is,  whan  a  man  holdeth 
him-self  as  noght  worth  biforn  god 
of  hevene.  Another  is  whan  he  ne 
despyseth  noon  other  man.  /  The 
thridde  is,  whan  he  rekketh  nat 
thogh  men  holdc  him  noght  worth. 
The  ferthe  is,  whan  he  nis  nat  sory  of 

4S0  his  humiliacion.  /  Also,  the  humili- 
tee of  mouth  is  in  foure  thinges:   in 


attempree  speche,  and  in  humblesse 
of  speche,  and  whan  lie  biknoweth 
with  his  owene  mouth  that  he  is  swich 
as  him  thinketh  that  he  is  in  his  herte. 
Another  is,  ^^■han  he  preiseth  the  boun- 
tee  of  another  man,  and  nothing 
ther-of  amenuseth.  /  Humilitee  eek 
in  werkes  is  in  foure  maneres:  the 
firste  is,  whan  he  puttcth  othere  men 
biforn  him.  The  secontle  is,  to  chese 
the  loweste  place  over-al.  The  thridde 
is,  gladly  to  assente  to  good  conseil./ 
The  ferthe  is,  to  stonde  gladly  to  the 
award  of  hise  sovereyns,  or  of  him 
that  is  in  hyer  degree;  certein,  this  is 
a  greet  vverk  of  humilitee./ 

Sequititr  de  /madia. 

§  30.  After  Pryde  wob  I  speken 
of  the  foule  sinne  of  Envye,  which 
is,  as  by  the  word  of  the  philoso- 
phre,  sorwe  of  other  mannes  pros- 
peritee;  and  after  the  word  of 
seint  Augustin,  it  is  sorwe  of  other 
mannes  wele,  and  loye  of  other 
mennes  harm./  This  foule  sinne 
is  platly  agayns  the  holy  goost. 
Al-be-it  so  that  every  sinne  is  agayns 
the  holy  goost,  yet  nathelees,  for  as 
muche  as  bountee  aperteneth  pro- 
prely  to  the  holy  goost,  and  Envye 
comth  proprely  of  malice,  therfore 
it  is  proprely  agayn  the  bountee  of 
the  holy  goost./  Now  hath  malice  4S5 
two  speces,  that  is  to  seyn,  hard- 
nesse  of  herte  in  wikkednesse,  or 
elles  the  flesh  of  man  is  so  blind, 
that  he  considereth  nat  that  he  is 
in  sinne,  or  rekketh  nat  that  he 
is  in  sinne;  which  is  the  hardnesse 
of  the  devel.  /  That  other  spece 
of  malice  is,  whan  a  man  werreyeth 
trouthe,  whan  he  woot  that  it  is 
trouthe.  And  eek,  whan  he  werrey- 
eth the  grace  that  god  hath  yeve  to 
his  neighebore;  and  al  this  is  by 
Envye.  /  Certes,  thanne  is  Envye 
the  worste  sinne  that  is.  For 
soothly,  alle  othere  sinnes  been 
som-tynie  only  agayns  o  special 
vertu;  /  but  certes,  Envye  is  agayns 
alle   vertues   and    agayns   alle  good- 


750 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[489-511. 


nesses;  for  it  is  sory  of  alle  the 
bountees  of  his  neighebore;  and  in 
this  manere  it  is  divers  from  alle 
othere  sinnes.  /  For  wel  unnethe 
is  ther  any  sinne  that  it  ne  hath 
som  delyt  in  itself,  save  only  Envye, 
that  evere  hath  in  itself  anguish  and 

490  sorvve.  /  The  speces  of  Envye 
been  thise :  ther  is  first,  sorvve  of 
other  mannes  goodnesse  and  of  his 
prosperitee;  and  prosperitee  is 
kindely  matere  of  loye;  thanne  is 
Envye  a  sinne  agayns  kinde.  / 
The  seconde  spece  of  Envye  is 
loye  of  other  mannes  harm  ;  and 
that  is  proprely  lyk  to  the  devel, 
that  evere  reioyseth  him  of  mannes 
harm.  /  Of  thise  two  speces  comth 
bakbyting;  and  this  sinne  of  bak- 
byting  or  detraccion  hath  certeine 
speces,  as  thus.  Som  man  preiseth 
his  neighebore  by  a  vvikke  en- 
tente; /  for  he  maketh  alwey  a 
wikked  knotte  atte  laste  ende. 
Alwey  he  maketh  a  'but'  atte  laste 
ende,  that  is  digne  of  more  blame, 
than  worth  is  al  the  preisinge.  / 
The  seconde  spece  is,  that  if  a  man 
be  good  and  dooth  or  seith  a  thing 
to  good  entente,  the  bakbyter  wol 
turne    all     thilke    goodnesse     up-so- 

495  doun  to  his  shrewed  entente.  /  The 
thridde  is,  to  amenuse  the  bountee 
of  his  neighebore.  /  The  fourthe 
spece  of  bakbyting  is  this;  that  if 
men  speke  goodnesse  of  a  man, 
thanne  wol  the  bakbyter  seyn,  '  par- 
fey,  swich  a  man  is  yet  bet  than 
he ';  in  dispreisinge  of  him  that 
men  preise./  The  fifte  spece  is 
this;  for  to  consente  gladly  and 
herkne  gladly  to  the  harm  that 
men  speke  of  other  folk.  This 
sinne  is  ful  greet,  and  ay  encreseth 
after  the  wikked  entente  of  the 
bakbyter.  /  After  bakbyting  Com- 
eth grucching  or  miirmuracion;  and 
somtyme  it  springeth  of  inpacience 
agayns  god,  and  somtyme  agayns 
man.  /  Agayns  god  it  is,  whan  a 
man  gruccheth  agayn  the  peynes  of 
helle,  or  agayns  poverte,  or  los 
of  catel,  or  agayn  reyn  or  tempest; 


or  elles  gruccheth  that  shrewes  han 
prosperitee,  or  elles  for  that  goode 
men  han  adversitee.  /  And  alle  500 
thise  thinges  sholde  men  suflre 
paciently,  for  they  comen  by  the 
rightful  lugement  and  ordinance 
of  god.  /  .Som-tyme  comth  grucch- 
ing of  avarice;  as  ludas  grucched 
agayns  the  Magdaleyne,  whan  she 
enoynte  the  heved  of  oure  lord  lesu 
Crist  with  hir  precious  oynement.  / 
This  maner  murmure  is  swich  as 
whan  man  gruccheth  of  goodnesse 
that  him-self  dooth,  or  that  other 
folk  doon  of  hir  owene  catel.  / 
.Som-tyme  comth  murmure  of  pryde; 
as  whan  Simon  the  Pharisee  grucched 
agayn  the  Magdaleyne,  whan  she 
approched  to  lesu  Crist,  and  weep 
at  his  feet  for  hir  sinnes.  /  And 
somtyme  grucching  sourdeth  of  En- 
vye; whan  men  discovereth  a  mannes 
harm  that  was  privee,  or  liereth 
him  on  hond  thing  that  is  fals.  /  505 
Murmure  eek  is  ofte  amonges  ser- 
vaunts,  that  grucchen  whan  hir 
sovereyns  bidden  hem  doon  leveful 
thinges;  /  and,  for-as-muche  as  they 
dar  nat  openly  withseye  the  co- 
maundements  of  hir  sovereyns,  yet 
wol  they  seyn  harm,  and  grucche, 
and  murmure  prively  for  verray  de- 
spyt;  /  whiche  wordes  men  clepen 
the  develes  Pater-noster,  though  so 
be  that  the  devel  ne  hadde  nevere 
Pater-tioster,  but  that  lewed  folk  yeven 
it  swich  a  name.  /  Som  tyme  grucch- 
ing comth  of  ire  or  prive  hate,  that 
norisseth  rancour  in  herte,  as  after- 
ward I  shal  declare.  /  Thanne  Com- 
eth eek  bitternesse  of  herte;  thurgh 
which  bitternesse  every  good  dede 
of  his  neighebor  semeth  to  him  bitter 
and  unsavory./  Thanne  cometh5io 
discord,  that  unbindeth  alle  manere 
of  frendshipe.  Thanne  comth  scorn- 
inge,  as  whan  a  man  seketh  occa- 
sioun  to  anoyen  his  neighebor, 
al  do  he  never  so  week/  Thanne 
comth  accusinge,  as  whan  man 
seketh  occasion  to  anoyen  his 
neighebor,  which  that  is  lyk  to  the 
craft  of  the  devel,  that  waiteth  bothe 


5 1 2-534-] 


I.     TIIK   PERSON  F.S  TALE. 


751 


nif;ht  and  day  to  accuscn  us  alle.  / 
'riianne  couith  nialignitee,  thurj^h 
which  a  man  anoyeth  his  neighcbor 
prively  if  he  may;  /  and  if  he 
noght  may,  algate  his  wikked  wil 
ne  shal  nat  wante,  as  for  to  brennen 
his  hous  prively,  or  empoysone  or 
slcen  hise  bestes,  and  scmblable 
thinges.  / 

Rcviedium  contra  peccatmn  ImiiJie. 

§  31.  Now  wol  I  speke  of  the 
remeilie  agayns  this  foule  sinne  of 
Envye.  First,  is  tlie  love  of  god  prin- 
cipal, and  loving  of  his  neighebor  as 
him-self;  for  socjthly,  that  oon  ne  may 

515  nat  been  with-oute  that  other.  /  And 
truste  wel,  that  in  the  name  of  thy 
neighebore  thou  shalt  understonde 
the  name  of  thy  brother;  for  certes 
alle  we  have  o  fader  fleshly,  and  o 
moder,  that  is  to  seyn,  Adam  and  Eve; 
and  eek  o  fader  espirituel,  and  that  is 
god  of  hevene.  /  Thy  neighebore 
artow  holden  for  to  love,  and  wilne 
him  alle  goodnesse;  and  therfore 
seith  god,  '  love  thy  neighebore  as 
thy-selve,'  that  is  to  seyn,  to  salvacion 
bothe  of  lyf  and  of  soule.  /  And 
more-over,  thou  shalt  love  him  in 
word,  and  in  benigne  amonestinge, 
and  chastysinge;  and  conforten  him 
in  hise  anoyes,  and  preye  for  him  with 
al  thyn  herte.  /  And  in  dede  thou 
shalt  love  him  in  swich  wyse,  that  thou 
shalt  doon  to  him  in  charitee  as 
thou  woldest  that  it  were  doon  to 
thyn  owene  persone.  /  And  ther- 
fore, thou  ne  shalt  doon  him  no  dam- 
age in  wikked  word,  ne  harm  in  his 
body,  ne  in  his  catel,  ne  in  his  soule, 

520  by  entysing  of  wikked  ensaniple.  / 
Thou  shalt  nat  desyren  his  wyf,  ne 
none  of  hise  thinges.  Understond 
eek,  that  in  the  name  of  neighebor 
is  comprehended  his  enemy.  /  C'er- 
tes  man  shal  loven  his  enemy  by  the 
comandement  of  god;  and  soothly 
thy  frend  shaltow  love  in  God.  /  I 
seye,  thyn  enemy  shaltow  love  for 
goddes  sake,  by  his  comandement. 
For  if  it  were  reson  that  a  man  sholde 


haten  his  enemy,  for  sothe  god  nolde 
nat  receiven  us  to  his  love  that  been 
hise  enemys.  /  Agayns  three  man- 
ere  of  wronges  that  his  enemy  dooth 
to  hym,  he  shal  doon  three  thinges, 
as  thus.  /  Agayns  hate  and  rancour 
of  herte,  he  shal  love  him  in  herte. 
Agayns  chyding  and  wikkede  wordes, 
he  shal  preye  for  his  enemy.  And 
agayn  the  wikked  dede  of  his  enemy, 
he  shal  doon  him  bountee.  /  For  525 
Crist  seith,  '  loveth  youre  enemys, 
and  preyeth  for  hem  that  speke  yow 
harm;  and  eek  for  hem  that  yow 
chacen  and  pursewen,  and  doth  boun- 
tee to  hem  that  yow  haten.'  Lo,  thus 
cohiaundeth  us  oure  lord  lesu  Crist, 
to  do  to  oure  enemys.  /  For  soothly, 
nature  dryveth  us  to  loven  oure 
freendes,  and  parfey,  oure  enemys 
han  more  nede  to  love  than  oure 
freendes;  and  they  that  more  nede 
have,  certes,  to  hem  shal  men  doon 
goodnesse;  /  and  certes,  in  thilke 
dede  have  we  remembrance  of  the 
love  of  lesu  Crist,  that  deyde  for  hise 
enemys.  /  And  in-as-muche  as  thilke 
love  is  the  more  grevous  to  perfourne, 
in-so-muehe  is  the  more  gretter  the 
merite;  and  therfore  the  lovinge  of 
oure  enemy  hath  confounded  the 
venim  of  the  devel.  /  For  right  as 
the  devel  is  disconfited  by  humilitee, 
right  so  is  he  wounded  to  the  deeth 
by  love  of  oure  enemy.  /  Certes,  530 
thanne  is  love  the  medicine  that 
casteth  out  the  venim  of  Envye  fro 
mannes  herte.  /  The  speces  of  this 
pas  shullen  be  more  largely  in  hir 
chapitres  folwinge  declared.  / 

SequiUir  de  Ira. 

§  32.  After  Envye  wol  I  discryven 
the  sinne  of  Ire.  For  soothly,  who- 
so hath  envye  upon  his  neighebor, 
anon  he  wole  comunly  finde  him  a 
niatere  of  wratthe,  in  word  or  in  dede, 
agayns  him  to  whom  he  hath  envye./ 
And  as  wel  comth  Ire  of  Pryde,  as  of 
F^nvye;  for  soothly,  he  that  is  [iroude 
or  envious  is  lightly  wrooth.  / 

§  T)},.   This  sinne  of  Ire,  after  the 


752 


THE   CANTERUaRY  TALES, 


[535-560. 


cHscryving  of  seint  Augustin,  is  wik- 
ked  wil  to  been  avenged  by  word  or 

535  by  dede.  /  Ire,  after  the  philoso- 
phre,  is  the  fervent  blood  of  man 
y-quiked  in  his  herte,  thurgh  which 
he  wole  harm  to  him  that  he  hateth./ 
For  certes  the  herte  of  man,  by  es- 
chauhnge  and  moevinge  of  his  blood, 
wexeth  so  trouble,  that  he  is  out  of 
alle  lugement  of  resoun.  /  But  ye 
shal  understonde  that  Ire  is  in  two 
maneres;  that  oon  of  hem  is  good, 
and  that  other  is  wikked.  /  The 
gode  Ire  is  by  lalousye  of  goodnesse, 
thurgh  which  a  man  is  wrooth  with 
wikkednesse  and  agayns  wikked- 
nesse ;  and  therfore  seith  a  wys  man, 
that  '  Ire  is  bet  than  pley.'  /  This 
Ire  is  with  debonairetee,  and  it  is 
wrooth  withouten  bitternesse;  nat 
wrooth  agayns  the  man,  but  wrooth 
with  the  misdede  of  the  man  ;  as  seith 
the    prophete    David,    Irascimini  et 

540  nolite  peccare.  /  Now  understond- 
eth,  that  wikked  Ire  is  in  two  man- 
eres, that  is  to  seyn,  sodeyn  Ire  or 
hastif  Ire,  withouten  avisement  and 
consentinge  of  resoun.  /  The  men- 
ing  and  the  sens  of  this  is,  that  the 
resoun  of  man  ne  consente  nat  to 
thilke  sodeyn  Ire;  and  thanne  it  is 
venial.  /  Another  Ire  is  ful  wikked, 
that  comth  of  felonye  of  herte  avysed 
and  cast  biforn;  with  wikked  wil  to 
do  vengeance,  and  therto  his  resoun 
consenteth ;  and  soothly  this  is  deedly 
sinne.  /  This  Ire  is  so  displesant  to 
god,  that  it  troubleth  his  hous  and 
chaceth  the  holy  goost  out  of  mannes 
soule,  and  wasteth  and  destroyeth  the 
lyknesse  of  god,  that  is  to  seyn,  the 
vertu  that  is  in  mannes  soule;  /  and 
put  in  him  the  lyknesse  of  the  devel, 
and  binimeth  the  man  fro  god  that  is 

545  his  rightful  lord.  /  This  Ire  is  a  ful 
greet  plesaunce  to  the  devel;  for  it 
is  the  develes  fourneys,  that  is  es- 
chaufed  with  the  fyr  of  helle.  /  For 
certes,  right  so  as  fyr  is  more  mighty 
to  destroyen  erthely  thinges  than  any 
other  element,  right  so  Ire  is  mighty 
to  destroyen  alle  spirituel  thinges.  / 
Loke   how  that  fyr  of  smale  gledes. 


that  been  almost  dede  under  asshen, 
woUen  cjuike  agayn  whan  they  been 
touched  with  brimstoon;  riglit  so  Ire 
wol  everemo  quiken  agayn,  whan  it  is 
touched  by  the  pryde  that  is  covered 
in  mannes  herte.  /  For  certes  fyrne 
may  nat  comen  out  of  no-thing,  but-if 
it  were  first  in  the  same  thing  natur- 
elly ;  as  fyr  is  drawen  out  of  flintes 
with  steel.  /  And  right  so  as  pryde 
is  ofte  tyme  matere  of  Ire,  right  so  is 
rancour  norice  and  keper  of  Ire.  /  550 
Ther  is  a  maner  tree,  as  seith  seint 
Isidre,  that  whan  men  maken  fyr  of 
thilke  tree,  and  covere  the  coles  of  it 
with  asshen,  soothly  the  fyr  of  it  wol 
lasten  al  a  yeer  or  more.  /  And  right 
so  fareth  it  of  rancour;  whan  it  is 
ones  conceyved  in  the  hertes  of  som 
men,  certein,  it  wol  lasten  peraventure 
from  oon  Estre-day  unto  another 
Estre-day,  and  more.  /  But  certes, 
thilke  man  is  ful  fer  fro  the  mercy  of 
god  al  thilke  while.  / 

§  34.  In  this  forseyde  develes  four- 
neys ther  forgen  three  shrewes : 
Pryde,  that  ay  bloweth  and  encreseth 
the  fyr  by  chydinge  and  wikked 
wordes.  /  Thanne  stant  Envye,  and 
holdeth  the  hote  iren  upon  the  herte 
of  man  with  a  peire  of  longe  tonges 
of  long  rancour.  /  And  thanne  stant  555 
the  sinne  of  contumelie  or  stryf  and 
cheeste,  and  batereth  and  forgeth  by 
vileyns  reprevinges.  /  Certes,  this 
cursed  sinne  anoyeth  bothe  to  the 
man  him-self  and  eek  to  his  neighe- 
bor.  For  soothly,  almost  al  the  harm 
that  any  man  dooth  to  his  neighebore 
comth  of  wratthe.  /  For  certes,  out- 
rageous wratthe  doth  al  that  evere 
the  devel  him  comaundeth;  for  he 
ne  spareth  neither  Crist,  ne  his  swete 
mooder.  /  And  in  his  outrageous 
anger  and  Ire?  alias  !  alias  !  ful  many 
oon  at  that  tyme  felcth  in  his  herte 
ful  wikkedly,  bothe  of  Crist  and  of 
alle  hise  halwes.  /  Is  nat  this  a 
cursed  vice?  Yis,  certes.  Alias!  it 
binimeth  from  man  his  wit  and  his 
resoun,  and  al  his  debonaire  lyf  espir- 
ituel  that  sholde  kepen  his  soule.  /  560 
Certes,  it  binimeth   eek   goddes  due 


56I-58I.3 


I.     THE   PERSONES  TALE. 


753 


lordshipe,  and  that  is  mannes  soule, 
and  the  love  of  hise  neighebores.  It 
stryveth  eek  alday  agayn  trouthe.  It 
reveth  him  the  (juiete  of  his  herte, 
and  sulivertelh  his  soule.  / 

§  35-  Of  Ire  comen  thise  stinkinge 
engendrures :  first  hate,  that  is  old 
wratthe;  discord,  thurgh  which  a 
man  forsaketh  his  olde  freend  that 
he  hath  loved  ful  longe.  /  And 
thanne  cometh  werre,  and  every  man- 
ere  of  wrong  that  man  dooth  to  his 
neighehore,  in  body  or  in  catel.  / 
Of  this  cursed  sinne  of  Ire  cometh 
eek  manslaughtre.  And  understonde 
wel,  that  homicyde,  that  is  man- 
slaughtre, is  in  dyverse  wyse.  Som 
manere  of  homicyde  is  spirituel,  and 
som  is  bodily.  /  Spirituel  man- 
slaughtre is  in  six  thinges.  First,  by 
hate;  as  seint  lohn  seith, 'he  that 
•565  hateth  his  brother  is  homicyde.'  / 
Homicyde  is  eek  by  bakbytinge;  of 
whiche  bakbyteres  seith  Salomon,  that 
'  they  han  two  swerdes  with  whiche 
they  sleen  hir  neighebores.'  For 
soothly,  as  wikke  is  to  binime  his 
good  name  as  his  lyf.  /  Homicyde 
is  eek,  in  yevinge  of  wikked  conseil 
by  fraude ;  as  for  to  yeven  conseil  to 
areysen  wrongful  custumes  and  tal- 
lages. /  Of  whiche  seith  Salomon, 
'  Leon  rorynge  and  bere  hongry  been 
lyke  to  the  cruel  lordshipes,'  in  with- 
holdinge  or  abregginge  of  the  shepe 
(or  the  hyre),  or  of  the  wages  of  ser- 
vaunts,  or  elles  in  usure  or  in  with- 
drawinge  of  the  almesse  of  povre 
folk.  /  For  which  the  wyse  man 
seith,  '  fedeth  him  that  almost  dyeth 
for  honger  ';  for  soothly,  but-if  thou 
fede  him,  thou  sleest  him;  and  alle 
thise  been  deedly  sinnes.  /  Bodily 
manslaughtre  is,  whan  thow  sleest 
him  with  thy  tonge  in  other  manere; 
as  whan  thou  comandest  to  sleen  a 
man,  or  elles  yevest  him  conseil  to 
570  sleen  a  man./  Manslaughtre  in 
dede  is  in  foure  maneres.  That  oon 
is  by  lawe;  right  as  a  lustice  danip- 
neth  him  that  is  coupal)le  to  the 
deeth.  But  lat  the  lustice  be  war 
that  he  do  it  rightfully,  and  that  he 

3c 


do  it  nat  for  delyt  to  spille  blood,  but 
for  kepinge  of  rightwisenesse.  /  An- 
other homicyde  is,  that  is  doon  for 
necessitee,  as  whan  o  man  sleelh  an- 
other in  his  defendaunt,  and  that  he 
ne  may  noon  otherwise  escape  from 
his  owene  deeth.  /  But  certeinly,  if 
he  may  escape  withouten  manslaugh- 
tre of  his  adversarie,  and  sleeth  him, 
he  doth  sinne,  and  he  shal  bere  pen- 
ance as  for  deedly  sinne.  /  Eek  if 
a  man,  by  caas  or  aventure,  shete  an 
arwe  or  caste  a  stoon  with  which  he 
sleeth  a  man,  he  is  homicyde.  /  Eek 
if  a  womman  by  necligence  overlyeth 
hir  child  in  hirsleping,  it  is  homicyde 
and  deedly  sinne.  /  Eek  whan  man  575 
dcstourbeth  concepcion  of  a  child,  and 
niaketh  a  womman  outher  bareyne 
by  drinkinge  venemouse  herbes, 
thurgh  which  she  may  nat  conceyve, 
or  sleeth  a  child  by  drinkes  wilfully, 
or  elles  putteth  certeine  material 
thinges  in  hir  secree  places  to  slee 
the  child;  /  or  elles  doth  unkindely 
sinne,  by  which  man  or  womman 
shedeth  hir  nature  in  manere  or  in 
place  ther-as  a  child  may  nat  be  con- 
ceived; or  elles,  if  a  womman  have 
conceyved  and  hurt  hir-self,  and 
sleeth  the  child,  yet  is  it  homicyde.  / 
What  seye  we  eek  of  wommen  that 
niordren  hir  children  for  drede  of 
worldly  shame?  Certes,  an  horrible 
homicyde.  /  Homicyde  is  eek  if  a 
man  approcheth  to  a  womman  by 
desir  of  lecherye,  thurgh  which  the 
child  is  perissed,  or  elles  smyteth  a 
womman  witingly,  thurgh  which  she 
leseth  hir  child.  Alle  thise  been 
homicydes  and  horrible  deedly 
sinnes.  /  Yet  comen  ther  of  Ire 
manye  mo  sinnes,  as  wel  in  word  as 
in  thoght  and  in  dede;  as  he  that 
arretteth  upon  god,  or  biameth  god, 
of  thing  of  which  he  is  him-self  gilty ; 
or  despyseth  god  and  alle  hise  hal»  es, 
as  doon  thise  cursede  hasardours  in 
diverse  contrees.  /  This  cursed  sinne  5S0 
doon  they,  whan  they  felen  in  hir 
hertes  ful  wikkedly  of  god  and  of  hise 
halwes.  /  Also,  whan  they  treten 
unreverently    the    sacrement   of   the 


754 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[582-599. 


auter,  thilke  sinne  is  so  greet,  that 
unnethe  may  it  been  relesed,  but  that 
the  mercy  of  god  passeth  alle  hise 
werkes;  it  is  so  greet  and  he  so  be- 
nigne.  /  Thanne  comth  of  Ire  attry 
angre;  whan  a  man  is  sharply  amon- 
ested  in  his  shrifte  to  forleten  his 
sinne,  /  than  wole  he  be  angry  and 
answeren  hokerly  and  angrily,  and 
deffenden  or  excusen  his  sinne  by 
unstede fast n esse  of  his  flesh;  or  elles 
he  dide  it  for  to  holde  companye  with 
hise  felawes,  or  elles,  he  seith,  the 
fend  entyced  him;  /  or  elles  he  dide 
it  for  his  youthe,  or  elles  his  complex- 
ioun  is  so  corageous,  that  he  may  nat 
forbere;  or  elles  it  is  his  destinee,  as 
he  seith,  unto  a  certain  age;  or  elles, 
he  seith,  it  cometh  him  of  gentillesse 
of   hise    auncestres;     and    semblable 

585  thinges.  /  Alle  this  manere  of  folk 
so  wrappen  hem  in  hir  sinnes,  that 
they  ne  wol  nat  delivere  hem-self. 
For  soothly,  no  wight  that  excuseth 
him  wilfully  of  his  sinne  may  nat  been 
delivered  of  his  sinne,  til  that  he 
mekely  biknoweth  his  sinne.  /  After 
this,  thanne  cometh  swering,  that  is 
expres  agayn  the  comandement  of 
god;  and  this  bifalleth  ofte  of  anger 
and  of  Ire.  /  God  seith  :  '  thou  shalt 
nat  take  the  name  of  thy  lord  god  in 
veyn  or  in  ydel.'  Also  oure  lord 
lesu  Crist  seith  by  the  word  of  seint 
Mathew:  ^  Nolite  iurare  omnino:  / 
ne  wol  ye  nat  swere  in  alle  manere; 
neither  by  hevene,  for  it  is  goddes 
trone;  ne  by  erthe,  for  it  is  the  bench 
of  his  feet;  ne  by  lerusalem,  for  it  is 
the  citee  of  a  greet  king;  ne  by  thyn 
heed,  for  thou  mayst  nat  make  an 
heer  whyt  ne  blak.  /  But  seyeth  by 
youre  word,  "  ye,  ye,"  and  "  nay, 
nay";    and  what  that  is  more,  it  is 

590  of  yvel,'  seith  Crist.  /  For  Cristes 
*  sake,  ne  swereth  nat  so  sinfully,  in 
dismembringe  of  Crist^5y  soule,  herte, 
bones,  and  body.  For  certes,  it  sem- 
eth  that  ye  thinke  that  the  cursede 
lewes  ne  dismemlired  nat  y-nough 
the  preciouse  persone  of  Crist,  but  ye 
dismenibre  him  more.  /  And  if  so 
be  that   the    lawe    compelle    yow    to 


swere,  thanne  rule  yow  after  the  lawe 
of  god  in  youre  swering,  as  seith  lere- 
mye  quarto  capitulo,  ^lurabis  in  ver- 
itate,  in  iudicio  et  in  insticia:  thou 
shalt  kepe  three  condicions;  thou 
shalt  swere  in  trouthe,  in  doom,  and 
in  rightwisnesse.'  /  This  is  to  seyn, 
thou  shalt  swere  sooth ;  for  every  les- 
inge  is  agayns  Crist.  For  Crist  is 
verray  trouthe.  And  think  wel  this, 
that  every  greet  swerere,  nat  com- 
pelled lawefully  to  swere,  the  wounde 
shal  nat  departe  from  his  hous  whyl 
he  useth  swich  unleveful  swering.  / 
Thou  shalt  sweren  eek  in  doom,  whan 
thou  art  constreyned  by  thy  domes- 
man  to  witnessen  the  trouthe.  /  Eek 
thou  shalt  nat  swere  for  envye  ne  for 
favour,  ne  for  mede,  but  for  rightwis- 
nesse; for  declaracioun  of  it  to  the 
worship  of  god  and  helping  of  thyne  ^ 
evene-cristene.  /  And  therfore,  595 
every  man  that  taketh  goddes  name 
in  ydel,  or  falsly  swereth  with  his 
mouth,  or  elles  taketh  on  him  the 
name  of  Crist,  to  be  called  a  Cristene 
man,  and  liveth  agayns  Cristes  livinge 
and  his  techinge,  alle  they  taken 
goddes  name  in  ydel.  /  Loke  eek 
what  seint  Peter  seith,  Actimin 
quarto  capitulo,  'Non  est  aliud  noiiien 
sub  celo,'  &c.  'Ther  nis  noon  other 
name,'  seith  seint  Peter,  '  under  hev- 
ene, yeven  to  men,  in  which  they 
mowe  be  saved ; '  that  is  to  seyn,  but 
the  name  of  lesu  Crist.  /  Take  kepe 
eek  how  that  the  precious  name  of 
Crist,  as  seith  seint  Paul  ad  PJiilipenses 
secundo,  'In  no>iiine  lesu,  &.c. :  that 
in  the  name  of  lesu  every  knee  of 
hevenely  creatures,  or  erthely,  or  of 
helle  sholden  bowe';  for  it  is  so 
heigh  and  so  worshipful,  that  the  cur- 
sede feend  in  helle  sholde  tremblen 
to  heren  it  y-nempned.  /  Thanne 
semeth  it,  that  men  that  sweren  so 
horribly  by  his  blessed  name,  that 
they  despyse  him  more  boldely  than 
dide  the  cursede  lewes,  or  elles  the 
devel,  that  trembleth  whan  he  hereth 
his  name.  / 

§  36.    Now  certes,  sith  that  swer- 
ing, but-if  it  be  lawefully  doon,  is  so 


600-622.] 


I.    THE  PERSONES  TALE. 


755 


heighly  deffcnded,  niuche  worse  is 
600  foiswciing  falsly,  and  yet  nedelees.  / 
§  37.  What  seye  we  eek  of  hem 
that  delyten  hem  in  swering,  and 
holden  it  a  gentrie  or  a  manly  dede 
to  swere  grete  othes?  And  what  of 
hem  that,  of  verray  usage,  ne  cesse 
nat  to  swere  grete  othcs,  al  be  the 
cause  nat  worth  a  straw?  Certes, 
this  is  horrible  sinne.  /  Sweringe 
sodeynly  with-oute  avysement  is  eek 
a  sinne.  /  But  lat  us  go  now  to 
thilke  horrible  swering  of  adiuracioun 
and  coniuriacioun,  as  doon  thise  false 
enchauiitours  or  nigromanciens  in 
bacins  ful  of  water,  or  in  a  bright 
swerd,  in  a  cercle,  or  in  a  fyr,  or  in  a 
shulder-boon  of  a  sheep.  /  I  can 
nat  seye  but  that  they  doon  cursedly 
and  damnably,  agayns  Crist  and  al 
the  feith  of  holy  chirche.  / 

§  38.  What  seye  we  of  hem  that 
bileven  in  divynailes,  as  by  flight  or 
by  noyse  of  briddes,  or  of  bestes,  or 
by  sort,  by  geomancie,  by  dremes,  by 
chirkinge  of  dores,  or  crakkinge  of 
houses,  by  gnawynge  of  rattes,  and 
605  swich  manere  wrecchednesse  ?  / 
Certes,  al  this  thing  is  deffended  by 
god  and  by  al  holy  chirche.  For 
which  they  been  acursed,  til  they 
come  to  amendement,  that  on  swich 
filthe  setten  hir  bileve.  /  Charmes 
for  woundes  or  maladye  of  men,  or  of 
bestes,  if  they  taken  any  effect,  it 
may  be  peraventure  that  god  suffreth 
it,  for  folk  sholden  yeve  the  more 
feith  and  reverence  to  his  name.  / 

§  39.  Now  wol  I  speken  of  les- 
inges,  which  generally  is  fals  signilica- 
cioun  of  word,  in  entente  to  deceyven 
his  evene-cristene.  /  Som  lesinge  is 
of  which  ther  conith  noon  avantage 
to  no  wight :  and  som  lesinge  turneth 
to  the  ese  or  profit  of  o  man,  and  to 
disese  and  damage  of  another  man.  / 
Another  lesinge  is  for  to  saven  his 
lyf  or  his  catel.  Another  lesinge 
comth  of  delyt  for  to  lye,  in  which 
delyt  they  wol  forge  a  long  tale,  and 
jieynten  it  with  alle  circumstaunces, 
where  al  the  ground  of  the  tale  is 
610  fals.  /      Som  lesinge  comth,  for   he 


wole  sustene  his  word;  and  som 
lesinge  comth  of  recchelesnesse, 
with-outen  avysement;  and  semblable 
thinges.  / 

§  40.  [.at  us  now  touche  the  vyce 
of  flateringe,  which  nc  comth  nat 
gladly  but  for  drede  or  for  coveitise.  / 
I'laterye  is  generally  wrongful  prcis- 
inge.  Flatereres  been  the  devcles 
norices,  that  norissen  hise  children 
with  milk  of  losengerie.  /  For  sothe, 
Salomon  seith,  that  '  flaterie  is  wors 
than  detraccioun.'  For  som-tyme 
detraccion  maketh  an  hautcin  man  be 
the  more  humble,  for  he  dredeth  de- 
traccion; but  certes  flaterye,  that 
maketh  a  man  to  enhauncen  his  herte 
and  his  countenaunce.  /  Flatereres 
been  the  develes  enchauntours;  for 
they  make  a  man  to  wene  of  him-sclf 
be  lyk  that  he  nis  nat  lyk.  /  They  615 
been  lyk  to  ludas  that  bitraysed  [god; 
and  thise  flatereres  bitraysen]  a  man 
to  sellen  him  to  his  enemy,  that  is, 
to  the  devel.  /  Flatereres  been  the 
develes  chapelleyns,  that  singen 
evere  Placebo.  /  I  rekene  flaterye 
in  the  vyces  of  Ire;  for  ofte  tyme, 
if  o  man  be  wrooth  with  another, 
thanne  wol  he  flatere  som  wight  to 
sustene  him  in  his  querele.  / 

§  41.  Speke  we  now  of  swich  curs- 
inge  as  comth  of  irous  herte.  Mali- 
soun  generally  may  be  seyd  every 
maner  power  or  harm.  Swich 
cursinge  bireveth  man  fro  the 
regne  of  god,  as  seith  seint  Paul.  / 
And  ofte  tyme  swich  cursinge 
wrongfully  retorneth  agayn  to  him 
that  curseth,  as  a  brid  that  retorneth 
agayn  to  his  owene  nest.  /  And  620 
over  alle  thing  men  oghten  eschewe 
to  cursen  hir  children,  and  yeven  to 
the  devel  hir  engendrure,  as  fcrforth 
as  in  hem  is;  certes,  it  is  greet  peril 
and  greet  sinne.  / 

§  42.  Lat  us  thanne  speken  of 
chydinge  and  reproche,  whiche  been 
ful  grete  woundes  in  mannes  herte; 
for  they  unsowen  the  semes  of  frend- 
shipe  in  mannes  herte.  /  For  certes, 
unnethes  may  a  man  pleynly  been  ac- 
corded with  him  that  hath  liim  (.}penly 


756 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[623-643. 


revyled  and  repreved  in  disclaundre. 
This  is  a  ful  grisly  sinne,  as  Crist  seitli 
in  the  gospel.  /  And  tak  kepe  now, 
that  he  that  repreveth  his  neighebor, 
outher  he  repreveth  him  by  som  harm 
of  peyne  that  he  hath  on  his  body,  as 
'  mjsel,'  '  croked  harlot,'  or  by  som 
sinne  that  he  dooth.  /  Now  if  he 
repreve  him  by  harm  of  peyne,  thanne 
turneth  the  repreve  to  lesu  Crist;  for 
peyne  is  sent  by  the  rightwys  sonde 
of  god,  and   by   his  suffrance,   be    it 

625  meselrie,  or  maheym,  or  maladye.  / 
And  if  he  repreve  him  uncharitably 
of  sinne,  as,  'thou  holour,'  'thou 
dronkelewe  harlot,'  and  so  forth ; 
thanne  aperteneth  that  to  the  reioys- 
inge  of  the  devel,  that  evere  hath  loye 
that  men  doon  sinne.  /  And  certes, 
chydinge  may  nat  come  but  out  of  a 
vileyns  herte.  For  after  the  habun- 
dance  of  the  herte  speketh  the  mouth 
ful  ofte.  /  And  ye  shul  understonde 
that  loke,  by  any  way,  whan  any  man 
shal  chastyse  another,  that  he  be  war 
from  chydinge  or  reprevinge.  For 
trewely,  but  he  be  war,  he  may  ful 
lightly  quiken  the  fyr  of  angre  and 
of  wratthe,  which  that  he  sholde 
quenche,  and  per-aventure  sleeth  him 
which  that  he  mighte  chastyse  with 
benignitee.  /  For  as  seith  Salomon, 
'  the  amiable  tonge  is  the  tree  of  lyf,' 
that  is  to  seyn,  of  lyf  espirituel :  and 
sothly,  a  deslavee  tonge  sleeth  the 
spirites  of  him  that  repreveth,  and 
eek  of  him  that  is  repreved./  Lo, 
what  seith  seint  Augustin  :  '  ther  is 
no-thing  so  lyk  the  develes  child  as  he 
that  ofte  chydeth.'  Seint  Paul  seith 
eek  :   '  I,  servant  of  god,  bihove  nat  to 

630  chyde.'/  And  how  that  chydinge  be  a 
vileyns  thing  bitwixe  alle  manere  folk, 
yet  it  is  certes  most  uncovenable 
bitwixe  a  man  and  his  wyf;  for  there 
is  nevere  reste.  And  therfore  seith 
Salomon,  '  an  hous  that  is  uncovered 
and  droppinge,  and  a  chydinge  wyf, 
been  lyke.'/  A  man  that  is  in  a 
droppinge  hous  in  many  places, 
though  he  eschewe  the  droppinge  o 
place,  it  droppeth  on  him  in  anotlier 
place ;  so  fareth  it  by  a  chydinge  wyf. 


But  she  chyde  him  in  o  place,  she 
wol  chyde  him  in  another.  /  And 
therfore,  '  bettre  is  a  morsel  of  breed 
with  loye  than  an  hous  ful  of  delyces, 
with  chydinge,'  seith  Salomon.  / 
Seint  Paul  seith  :  '  O  ye  wommen,  be 
ye  subgetes  to  youre  housbondes  as 
bihoveth  in  god;  and  ye  men,  loveth 
youre  wyves.'    Ad  Colossenses,  tertio./ 

§  43.  Afterward  speke  we  of  scorn- 
inge,  which  is  a  wikked  sinne;  and 
namely,  whan  he  scorneth  a  man  for 
hise  gode  werkes.  /  For  certes,  635 
swiche  scorneres  faren  lyk  the  foule 
tode,  that  may  nat  endure  to  smelle 
the  sote  savour  of  the  vyne  whanne 
it  florissheth.  /  Thise  scorneres  been 
parting  felawes  with  the  devel;  for 
they  han  loye  whan  the  devel  winneth, 
and  sorwe  whan  he  leseth.  /  They 
been  adversaries  of  lesu  Crist;  for 
they  haten  that  he  loveth,  that  is  to 
seyn,  salvacion  of  soule.  / 

§  44.  Speke  we  now  of  wikked 
conseil;  for  he  that  wikked  con- 
seil  yeveth  is  a  traytour.  For  he 
deceyveth  him  that  trusteth  in  him,  ut 
Achitofel  ad  Ahsolonem.  But  nathe- 
less,  yet  is  his  wikked  conseil  first 
agayn  him-self.  /  For,  as  seith  the 
wyse  man,  every  fals  livinge  hath  this 
propertee  in  him-self,  that  he  that 
wole  anoye  another  man,  he  anoyeth 
him-self./  And  men  shul  under- 640 
stonde,  that  man  shal  nat  taken  his 
conseil  of  fals  folk,  ne  of  angry  folk, 
or  grevous  folk,  ne  of  folk  that  loven 
specially  to  muchel  hir  owene  profit, 
ne  to  muche  worldly  folk,  namely,  in 
conseilinge  of  soules.  / 

§  45.  Now  comth  the  sinne  of  hem 
that  sowen  and  maken  discord 
amonges  folk,  which  is  a  sinne  that 
Crist  hateth  outrely;  and  no  wonder 
is.  For  he  deyde  for  to  make  con- 
cord. /  And  more  shame  do  they  to 
Crist,  than  dide  they  that  him  cruci- 
fyede;  for  god  loveth  bettre,  that 
frendshipe  be  amonges  folk,  than  he 
dide  his  owene  body,  the  which  that 
he  yaf  for  unitee.  Therfore  been  they 
lykned  to  the  devel,  that  evere  been 
aboute  to  maken  discord.  / 


644-664.] 


I.    THE   PERSONES  TALE. 


757 


§  46.  Now  comth  the  sinne  of 
(luul)lc  toiige;  swiche  as  speken  faire 
biforn  folk,  and  wikkedly  bihinde;  ur 
files  they  niaken  semblant  as  though 
they  speke  of  good  entencioun,  or 
elles  in  game  and  pley,  and  yet  they 
speke  of  wikked  entente.  / 

§  47.  Now  comtli  biwreying  of  con- 
seil,  thurgh  which  a  man  is  defamed; 
certes,  unnethe  may  he  restore  the 
645  damage.  / 

Now  comth  nianace,  that  is  an  open 
folye;  for  he  that  ofte  manaceth,  he 
threteth  more  than  he  may  perfourne 
ful  ofte  tyme.  / 

Now  Cometh  ydel  wordes,  that  is 
with-outen  profit  of  him  that  speketh 
tho  wordes,  and  eek  of  him  that 
herkneth  tho  wordes.  Or  elles  ydel 
wordes  been  tho  that  been  nedelees, 
or  with-outen  entente  of  naturel 
profit.  /  And  al-be-it  that  ydel  wordes 
been  som  tyme  venial  sinne,  yet 
sholde  men  douten  hem;  for  we  shul 
yeve  rekeninge  of  hem  bifore  god.  / 

Now  comth  langlinge,  that  may  nat 
been  withoute  sinne.  And,  as  seith 
Salomon, '  it  is  a  sinne  of  apert  folye.'/ 
And  therfore  a  philosophre  seyde, 
whan  men  axed  him  how  that  men 
sholde  plese  the  peple;  and  he  an- 
swerde,  '  do  many  gode  werkes,  and 
650  spek  fewe  langles.'  / 

After  this  comth  the  sinne  of 
laperes,  that  been  the  develes  apes; 
for  they  maken  folk  to  laughe  at  hir 
laperie,  as  folk  doon  at  the  gaudes  of 
an  ape.  Swiche  laperes  deffendeth 
seint  Paul.  /  Loke  how  that  vertu- 
ouse  wordes  and  holy  conforten  hem 
that  travaillen  in  the  service  of  Crist; 
right  so  conforten  the  vileyns  wordes 
and  knakkes  of  laperis  hem  that  tra- 
vaillen in  the  service  of  the  devel.  / 
Thise  been  the  sinnes  that  comen  of 
the  tonge,  that  comen  of  Ire  and  of 
othere  sinnes  mo.  / 

Seqiiitiir  reincditiin  contra  peccatiini 

Ire. 

§  48.   The  remedye  agayns  Ire  is  a 

vertu   that  men  clepen   ^Iansuetu(le, 

that  is  Debonairetee;    and   eek   an- 


other vertu,  that  men  callen  Pacience 
or  .SufTrance.  / 

§  49.  Debonairetee  withdraweth 
and  refreyneth  the  stiringes  and  the 
moevynges  of  mannes  corage  in  his 
herte,  in  swich  manere  that  they  nc 
skippe  nat  out  by  angre  ne  by  Ire.  /  655 
Suffrance  suffreth  swetely  alle  the 
anoyaunces  and  the  wronges  that 
men  doon  to  man  outward.  /  Seint 
lerome  seith  thus  of  debonairetee, 
that  '  it  doth  noon  harm  to  no  wight, 
nc  seith;  ne  for  noon  harm  that  men 
doon  or  seyn,  he  ne  eschaufeth  nat 
agayns  his  resoun.'  /  This  vertu  som- 
tyme  comth  of  nature;  for,  as  seith 
the  philosophre,  '  a  man  is  a  quik 
thing,  by  nature  debonaire  and  tret- 
able  to  goodnesse;  but  whan  debon- 
airetee is  enformed  of  grace,  thanne 
is  it  the  more  worth.'  / 

§  50.  Pacience,  that  is  another 
remedye  agayns  Ire,  is  a  vertu  that 
suffreth  swetely  every  mannes  good- 
nesse, and  is  nat  wrooth  for  notm 
harm  that  is  doon  to  him.  /  Tlie 
philosophre  seith,  that  *  pacience  is 
thilke  vertu  that  suffreth  debonairely 
alle  the  outrages  of  adversitee  and 
every  wikked  word.'/  This  vertu  660 
maketh  a  man  lyk  to  god,  and  mak- 
eth  him  goddes  owene  dere  child,  as 
seith  Crist.  This  vertu  disconliteth 
thyn  enemy.  And  therfore  seith  the 
wyse  man,  '  if  thou  wolt  venquisse 
thyn  enemy,  lerne  to  suffre.'  /  And 
thou  shalt  understonde,  that  man 
suffreth  foure  manere  of  grevanccs 
in  outward  thinges,  agayns  the 
whiche  foure  he  moot  have  foure 
manere  of  paciences.  / 

§  51.  The  firste  grevance  is  of  wik- 
kede  wordes;  thilke  suffrede  Icsu 
Crist  with-outen  grucching,  ful  pa- 
ciently,  whan  the  lewes  despysed  and 
repreved  him  ful  ofte.  /  Suffre  thou 
therfore  jiaciently;  for  the  wyse  man 
seith :  '  if  thou  stryve  with  a  fool, 
though  the  fool  be  wrooth  or  though 
he  laughe,  algate  thou  shalt  have  no 
reste.'  /  That  other  grevance  out- 
ward is  to  have  damage  of  thy  catel. 
Thcr-agayns  suffred  Crist  ful  paciently, 


758 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[665-685. 


whan  he  was  despoyled  of  al  that  he 
hadde  in   this  lyf,  and  that  nas   but 

665  hise  clothes.  /  The  thridde  grev- 
ance  is  a  man  to  have  harm  in  his 
body.  That  suffred  Crist  ful  pa- 
ciently  in  al  his  passioun.  /  The 
fuurthe  grevance  is  in  outrageous 
labour  in  werkes.  Wherfore  I  seye, 
tliat  folk  that  maken  hir  servants  to 
travaillen  to  grevously,  or  out  of 
tyme,  as  on  halydayes,  soothly  they 
do  greet  sinne.  /  Heer-agayns  suf- 
fred Crist  ful  paciently,  and  taughte 
us  pacience,  whan  he  bar  up-on  his 
blissed  shulder  the  croys,  up-on  which 
he  sholde  suffren  dcspitous  deeth.  / 
Heer  may  men  lerne  to  be  pacient; 
for  certes,  noght  only  Cristen  men 
been  pacient  for  love  of  lesu  Crist, 
and  for  guerdoun  of  the  blisful  lyf 
that  is  perdurable;  but  certes,  the 
olde  payens,  that  nevere  were  Cris- 
tene,  commendeden  and  useden  the 
vertu  of  pacience.  / 

§  52.  A  philosophre  up-on  a  tyme, 
that  wolde  have  beten  his  disciple  for 
his  grete  trespas,  for  which  he  was 
greetly  amoeved,  and  broghte  a  yerde 

670  to  scourge  the  child;  /  and  whan  this 
child  saugh  the  yerde,  he  seyde  to 
his  maister,  'what  thenke  ye  to  do?' 
'  I  wol  bete  thee,'  quod  the  maister, 
'  for  thy  correccion.'  /  '  For  sothe,' 
quod  the  child,  '  ye  oghten  first  cor- 
recte  youre-self,  that  han  lost  al  youre 
pacience  for  the  gilt  of  a  child.'  / 
'  For  sothe,'  quod  the  maister  al  wep- 
inge, '  thou  seyst  sooth ;  have  thou  the 
yerde,  my  dere  sone,  and  correcte  me 
for  myn  inpacience.'  /  Of  Pacience 
comth  Oljedience,  thurgh  which  a  man 
is  obedient  to  Crist  and  to  allc  hem 
to  whiche  he  oghte  to  been  obedient 
in  Crist.  /  And  understond  wel  that 
oliedience  is  perfit,  whan  that  a  man 
doth    gladly   and    hastily,  with   good 

675  herte  entierly,  al  that  he  sholde  do.  / 
Obedience  generally,  is  to  perfourne 
the  doctrine  of  god  and  of  his 
sovereyns,  to  whiche  him  oghte 
to  ben  obeisaunt  in  alle  rightwys- 
nesse.  / 


Sequitur  de  Aicidia. 

§  53.  After  the  sinnes  of  Envie  and 
of  Ire,  now  wol  I  speken  of  the  sinne 
of  Accidie.  For  Envye  blindeth  the 
herte  of  a  man,  and  Ire  troubleth  a 
man;  and  Accidie  maketh  him  hevy, 
thoghtful,  and  wrawe.  /  Envyc  and 
Ire  maken  bitternesse  in  herte;  which 
bitternesse  is  moder  of  Accidie,  and 
binimeth  him  the  love  of  alle  good- 
nesse.  Thanne  is  Accidie  the  an- 
guissh  of  a  trouble  herte;  and  seint 
Augustin  seith  :  '  it  is  anoy  of  good- 
nesse  and  loye  of  harm.'  /  Certes, 
this  is  a  dampnable  sinne;  for  it  doth 
wrong  to  lesu  Crist,  in-as-muche  as 
it  binimeth  the  service  that  men  oghte 
doon  to  Crist  with  alle  diligence,  as 
seith  Salomon.  /  But  Accidie  dooth 
no  swich  diligence;  he  dooth  alle 
thing  with  anoy,  and  with  wraw- 
nesse,  slaknesse,  and  excusacioun, 
and  with  ydelnesse  and  unlust;  for 
which  the  book  seith :  '  acursed  be 
he  that  doth  the  service  of  god  nec- 
ligently.'  /  Thanne  is  Accidie  enemy  6S0 
to  everich  estaat  of  man;  for  certes, 
the  estaat  of  man  is  in  three  maneres./ 
Outher  it  is  thestaat  of  innocence,  as 
was  thestaat  of  Adam  biforn  that  he 
til  into  sinne;  in  which  estaat  he  was 
holden  to  vvirche,  as  in  heryinge  and 
adouringe  of  god.  /  Another  estaat 
is  the  estaat  of  sinful  men,  in  which 
estaat  men  been  holden  to  laboure  in 
preyinge  to  god  for  amendement  of 
hir  sinnes,  and  that  he  wole  graunte 
hem  to  arysen  out  of  hir  sinnes.  / 
Another  estaat  is  thestaat  of  grace,  in 
which  estaat  he  is  holden  to  werkes 
of  penitence;  and  certes,  to  alle  thise 
thinges  is  Accidie  enemy  and  con- 
trarie.  For  he  loveth  no  bisinesse  at 
al.  /  Now  certes,  this  foule  sinne 
Ac6idie  is  eek  a  ful  greet  enemy  to 
the  lyflode  of  the  body ;  for  it  ne 
hath  no  purveaunce  agayn  temporel 
necessitee;  for  it  forsleweth  and  for- 
sluggeth,  and  destroyeth  alle  goodes 
temporeles  by  reccheleesnesse.  /  685 

§  54.  The   fourthe    thinge    is,  that 
Accidie  is  lyk  to  hem  that  been  in  the 


686-708.] 


I.     TllK    J'KRSUNKS   TALE. 


759 


peyne  of  helle,  by-cause  of  hir  slouthe 
ami  of  hir  hevinesse;  for  they  that 
been  tiampned  been  so  bounde,  that 
they  ne  may  neither  wel  du  ne  wel 
thinke.  /  Of  Accidie  comth  tirst,  that 
a  man  is  anoyed  and  encombretl  for 
to  doon  any  goodncsse,  and  makctli 
that  god  hath  abhominacion  of  swich 
Accidie,  as  seith  scint  lohan.  / 

§  55.  Now  comth  Slouthe,  that  wol 
nat  suflre  noon  hardnesse  ne  no  pen- 
aunce.  For  soothly,  Slouthe  is  so 
tentlre,  and  so  delicat,  as  scith  Salo- 
mon, tliat  he  wol  nat  suflre  noon  hanl- 
ncsse  ne  pcnaunce,  and  thcifore  he 
shcndoth  al  that  he  dooth.  /  Agayns 
this  rotcn-herted  sinne  of  Accidie  and 
Slouthe  sholde  men  exercise  hem-self 
to  doon  gode  werkes,  and  manly  and 
vertuously  cacchen  corage  wel  to 
doon;  thinkinge  that  oure  lord  lesu 
Crist  quyteth  every  good  dede,  be  it 
never  so  lyte.  /  Usage  of  labour  is 
a  greet  thing;  for  it  maketh,  as  seith 
seint  Bernard,  the  laborer  to  have 
stronge  amies  and  harde  sinwes;  and 
Slouthe  maketh  hem  feble  and  ten- 

690  dre.  /  Thanne  comth  drede  to  bi- 
ginne  to  werke  any  gode  werkes;  for 
certes,  he  that  is  enclyned  to  sinne, 
him  thinketh  it  is  so  greet  an  empryse 
for  to  undertake  to  doon  werkes  of 
goodncsse,  /  and  casteth  in  his  herte 
that  the  circumstaunces  of  good- 
ncsse been  so  grevouse  and  so  charge- 
aunt  for  to  suffre,  that  he  dar  nat 
undertake  to  do  werkes  of  goodncsse, 
as  seith  seint  Gregorie.  / 

§  56.  Now  comth  wanhope,  that  is 
despeir  of  the  mercy  of  god,  that 
comth  somtyme  of  to  muche  outrage- 
ous sorwe,  and  somtyme  of  to  muche 
drede;  iniagininge  that  he  hath  doon 
so  muche  sinne,  that  it  wol  nat  avail- 
len  him,  though  he  wolde  rcpentcn 
him  and  forsake  sinne  :  /  thurgh  which 
despeir  or  drede  he  abaundoneth  al 
his  herte  to  every  maner  sinne,  as 
seith  seint  Augustin.  /  Which  damp- 
nable  sinne,  if  that  it  continue  un-to 
his  ende,  it  is  cleped  sinning  in  the 

695  holy  gost.  /  This  horrilile  sinne  is 
so  perilous,  that  he  that  is  despeired. 


ther  nis  no  felonye  ne  no  sinne  that 
he  douteth  for  to  do;  as  shewed  wel 
by  ludas.  /  Certes,  aboven  alle 
sinncs  thanne  is  this  sinne  most  dis- 
plesant  to  Crist,  and  most  adversa- 
rie.  /  Soothly,  he  that  despeireth 
him  is  lyk  the  coward  champioun 
recreant,  that  seith  creant  witlioute 
nede.  Alias !  alias !  neileles  is  he 
recreant  and  nedeles  despeired.  / 
Certes,  the  mercy  of  god  is  evere  redy 
to  every  penitent,  and  is  aboven  alle 
hise  werkes.  /  Alias!  can  nat  a  man 
l)ithinke  him  on  the  gospel  of  seint 
Luk,  15.,  where-as  Crist  seith  that 
'  as  wel  slial  ther  be  loye  in  hevene 
upon  a  sinful  man  that  doth  penitence, 
as  up-on  nynete  and  nyne  rightful 
men  that  neden  no  penitence?' /  7°° 
Loke  forther,  in  the  same  gospel,  the 
loye  and  the  feste  of  the  gode  man 
that  hadde  lost  his  sone,  whan  his 
sone  with  repentaunce  was  retourned 
to  his  fader.  /  Can  they  nat  remcm- 
bren  hem  eek,  that,  as  seith  seint  Luk 
xxiii"  capitiilo,  how  that  the  theef 
that  was  hanged  bisyde  lesu  Crist, 
seyde  :  '  Lord,  remembre  of  me,  whan 
thou  comest  in-to  thy  regne  ? '  / 
'  For  sothe,'  seyde  Crist,  '  I  seye  to 
thee,  to-day  shallow  been  with  me  in 
Paradys.'  /  Certes,  ther  is  noon  so 
horril)le  sinne  of  man,  that  it  ne  may, 
in  his  lyf,  be  destroyed  by  penitence, 
thurgh  vertu  of  the  passion  and  of 
the  deeth  of  Crist.  /  Alias !  what 
nedeth  man  thanne  to  l)cen  despeired, 
sith  that  his  mercy  so  redy  is  and 
large?  Axe  and  have./  Thaime  705 
Cometh  Sompnolence,  that  is,  sluggy 
slombringe,  which  maketh  a  man  be 
hevy  and  dul,  in  body  and  in  soule; 
and  this  sinne  comth  of  Slouthe.  / 
And  certes,  the  tyme  that,  by  wey  of 
resoun,  men  sholde  nat  slepe,  that 
is  by  the  morwe;  but-if  ther  were 
cause  resonable.  /  For  soothly,  the 
morwe-tyde  is  most  co^'enable,  a  man 
to  seye  his  preyeres,  and  for  to  thinken 
on  god,  and  for  to  honoure  god,  and 
to  yeven  almesse  to  the  povre,  that 
first  Cometh  in  the  name  of  Crist.  / 
Lo  !    what    seith    Salomon  :   '  who-so 


76o 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[709-731- 


wolde  by  the  morwe  awaken  and  seke 
me,  he  shal  finde.'  /  Thanne  cometh 
Necligence,  or  recchelesnesse,  that 
rekketh  of  no-thing.  And  how  that 
ignoraunce  be  moder  of   alle   harm, 

710  certes,  Necligence  is  the  norice.  / 
NecHgence  ne  doth  no  fors,  whan  he 
shal  doon  a  thing,  whether  he  do  it 
weel  or  baddely.  / 

§  57.  Of  the  remedie  of  thise  two 
sinnes,  as  seith  the  wyse  man,  that 
'  he  that  dredeth  god,  he  spareth  nat 
to  doon  that  him  oghte  doon.'  /  And 
he  that  loveth  god,  he  wol  doon  dili- 
gence to  plese  god  by  his  werkes, 
and  abaundone  him-self,  with  al  his 
might,  wel  for  to  doon.  /  Thanne 
comth  ydelnesse,  that  is  the  yate  of 
alle  harmes.  An  ydel  man  is  lyk  to 
a  place  that  hath  no  walles;  the 
develes  may  entre  on  every  syde  and 
sheten  at  him  at  discovert,  by  tempta- 
cion  on  every  syde.  /  This  ydelnesse 
is  the  thurrok  of  alle  wikked  and 
vileyns  thoghtes,  and  of  alle  langles, 

715  trufies,  and  of  alle  ordure.  /  Certes, 
the  hevene  is  yeven  to  hem  that  wol 
labouren,  and  nat  to  ydel  folk.  Eek 
David  seith :  that  '  they  ne  been  nat 
in  the  labour  of  men,  ne  they  shul 
nat  been  whipped  with  men,'  that  is 
to  seyn,  in  purgatorie.  /  Certes, 
thanne  semeth  it,  they  shul  be  tor- 
mented with  the  devel  in  helle,  but-if 
they  doon  penitence.  / 

§  58.  Thanne  comth  the  sinne  that 
men  clepen  Tarditas^  as  whan  a  man 
is  to  latrede  or  taryinge,  er  he  wole 
turne  to  god;  and  certes,  that  is  a 
greet  folye.  He  is  lyk  to  him  that 
falleth  in  the  dich,  and  wol  nat  aryse./ 
And  this  vyce  comth  of  a  fals  hope, 
that  he  thinketh  that  he  shal  live 
longe;  but  that  hope  faileth  fulofte./ 
§  59.  Thanne  comth  Lachesse; 
that  is  he,  that  whan  he  biginneth  any 
good  werk,  anon  he  shal  forleten  it 
and  stinten;  as  doon  they  that  han 
any  wight  to  governe,  and  ne  taken 
of  him  na-more  kepe,  anon  as  they 

720  finden  any  contrarie  or  any  anoy.  / 
Thise  been  the  newe  shepherdes, 
that  leten  hir  sheep  witingly  go  renne 


to  the  wolf  that  is  in  the  breres,  or  do 
no  fors  of  hir  owene  governaunce.  / 
Of  this  comth  poverte  and  destruc- 
cioun,  bothe  of  spirituel  and  temporel 
thinges.  Thanne  comth  a  manere 
coldnesse,  that  freseth  al  the  herte  of 
man.  /  Thanne  comth  undevocioun, 
thurgh  which  a  man  is  so  blent,  as 
seith  Seint  Bernard,  and  hath  swiche 
langour  in  soule,  that  he  may  neither 
rede  ne  singe  in  holy  chirche,  nehere 
ne  thinke  of  no  devocioun,  ne  tra- 
vaille  with  hise  handes  in  no  good 
werk,  that  it  nis  him  unsavory  and  al 
apalled.  /  Thanne  wexeth  he  slow 
and  slombry,  and  sone  wol  be  wrooth, 
and  sone  is  enclyned  to  hate  and  to 
envye.  /  Thanne  comth  the  sinne 
of  worldly  sorwe,  swich  as  is  cleped 
tristicia,  that  sleeth  man,  as  seint 
Paul  seith.  /  For  certes,  swich  sorwe  725 
werketh  to  the  deeth  of  the  soule  and 
of  the  body  also;  for  ther-of  comth, 
that  a  man  is  anoyed  of  his  owene 
lyf.  /  Wherfore  swich  sorwe  short- 
eth  ful  ofte  the  lyf  of  a  man,  er  that 
his  tyme  be  come  by  wey  of  kinde.  / 

Reinediutn  contra  peccatum  Accidie. 

§  60.  Agayns  this  horrible  sinne  of 
Accidie,  and  the  branches  of  the 
same,  ther  is  a  vertu  that  is  called 
Fortitiido  or  Strengthe;  that  is,  an 
affeccioun  thurgh  which  a  man  de- 
spyseth  anoyous  thinges.  /  This 
vertu  is  so  mighty  and  so  vigorous, 
that  it  dar  withstonde  mightily  and 
wysely  kepen  him-self  fro  perils  that 
been  wikked,  and  wrastle  agayn  the 
assautes  of  the  devel.  /  For  it  en- 
haunceth  and  enforceth  the  soule, 
right  as  Accidie  abateth  it  and  mak- 
eth  it  feble.  For  this  Fortitiido  may 
endure  by  long  suffraunce  the  tra- 
vailles  that  been  covenable.  /  "J^iO 

§  61.  This  vertu  hath  manye  speces; 
and  the  firste  is  cleped  Magnanimitee, 
that  is  to  seyn,  greet  corage.  For 
certes,  ther  bihoveth  greet  corage 
agains  Accidie,  lest  that  it  ne  swolwe 
the  soule  by  the  sinne  of  sorwe,  or 
destroye  it  by  wanhope.  /    This  vertu 


732-752.] 


I.     THE   PERSONES  TALE. 


761 


maketh  folk  to  undertake  harde 
thinges  and  grevouse  thinges,  liy  hir 
owene  wil,  wysely  antl  rcsonahly.  / 
And  for  as  mucliel  as  the  de\  el  tightetli 
agayns  a  man  more  by  queyiitise  and 
by  sleighte  than  by  strengthe,  ther- 
fore  men  shal  withstonden  him  by 
wit  and  by  resoun  and  by  discre- 
cioun.  /  Thanne  am  ther  the  vertues 
of  feith,  and  hope  in  god  and  in  hise 
seintes,  to  acheve  and  acomplice  the 
gode  vverkes  in  the  whiche  he  purpos- 
eth  fermely  to  continue.  /  Thanne 
comth  seuretee  or  sikernesse;  and 
that  is,  whan  a  man  ne  douteth  no 
travaille  in  tyme  cominge  of  the  gode 
735  werkes  that  a  man  hath  bigonne.  / 
Thanne  comth  Magnificence,  that  is 
to  seyn,  whan  a  man  dooth  and  per- 
fourneth  grete  werkes  of  goodnesse 
that  he  hath  bigonne;  and  that  is 
the  ende  why  that  men  sholde  do 
gode  vverkes;  for  in  the  acomplissinge 
of  grete  goode  werkes  lyth  the  grete 
guerdoun.  /  Thanne  is  ther  Con- 
staunce,  that  is,  stablenesse  of  corage; 
and  this  sholde  been  in  herte  by  stede- 
fast  feith,  and  in  mouth,  and  in  ber- 
inge,  and  in  chere  and  in  dede.  / 
Eke  ther  been  mo  speciale  remedies 
agains  Accidie,  in  diverse  werkes,  and 
in  consideracioun  of  the  peynes  of 
helle,  and  of  the  loyes  of  hevene,  and 
in  trust  of  the  grace  of  the  holy  goost, 
that  wole  yeve  him  might  to  perfourne 
his  gode  entente.  / 

Sequitur  de  Atiaricia. 

§  62.  After  Accidie  wol  I  speke  of 
Avarice  and  of  Coveitise,  of  which 
sinne  seith  seint  Paule,  that  '  the 
rote  of  alle  harmes  is  Coveitise  ' :  Ad 
Timothcum,  sexto  capitiilo.  /  For 
soothly,  whan  the  herte  of  a  man  is 
confounded  in  it-self  and  troubled, 
and  that  the  soule  hath  lost  the  con- 
fort  of  god,  thanne  seketh  he  an  ydel 
740  solas  of  worldly  thinges.  / 

§  63.  Avarice,  after  the  descripcion 
of  seint  Augustin,  is  likerousnesse  in 
herte  to  have  erthely  thinges.  /  Som 
other  folk  seyn,  that  Avarice  is,  for 
to  purchacen  manye  erthely  thinges, 


and  nu  thing  yeve  to  hem  that  han 
nede.  /  And  understond,  that  .Avarice 
ne  slant  nat  only  in  loud  ne  catcl,  but 
somtyme  in  science  and  in  glorie,  and 
in  every  manere  of  outrageous  thing 
is  Avarice  and  Coveitise.  /  And  tlie 
difference  bitwixe  Avarice  and  Covei- 
tise is  this.  Coveitise  is  for  to  coveite 
swiche  thinges  as  thou  hast  nat;  and 
Avarice  is  for  to  withholde  and  kcjic 
swiche  thinges  as  thou  hast,  with- 
oute  rightful  nede.  /  Soothly,  this 
Avarice  is  a  sinne  that  is  ful  damp- 
nable;  for  al  holy  writ  curseth  it,  and 
speketh  agayns  that  vyce ;  for  it  dooth 
wrong  to  lesu  Crist.  /  For  it  bireveth  745 
him  the  love  that  men  to  him  owen, 
and  turneth  it  bakward  agayns  alle 
resoun;  /and  maketh  that  the  avari- 
cious man  hath  more  hope  in  his 
catel  than  in  lesu  Crist,  and  dooth 
more  observance  in  kepinge  of  his 
tresor  than  he  dooth  to  service  of 
lesu  Crist.  /  And  therfore  seith 
seint  Paul  ad  Ephesios,  quiiito,  that 
'  an  avaricious  man  is  in  the  thraldom 
of  ydolatrie.'  / 

§  64.  What  difference  is  bitwixe  an 
ydolastre  and  an  avaricious  man,  but 
that  an  ydolastre,  per  aventure,  ne 
hath  but  o  mawmet  or  two,  and  the 
avaricious  man  hath  manye?  For 
certes,  every  florin  in  his  cofre  is  his 
mawmet.  /  And  certes,  the  sinne  of 
Mawmetrye  is  the  firste  thing  that 
God  deffended  in  the  ten  comaund- 
ments,  as  bereth  witnesse  Exodi, 
capitiilo  xx^:  /  'Thou  shalt  have  no  750 
false  goddes  bifore  me,  ne  thou  shalt 
make  to  thee  no  grave  thing.'  Thus 
is  an  avaricious  man,  that  loveth  his 
tresor  biforn  god,  an  ydolastre,  / 
thurgh  this  cursed  sinne  of  Avarice. 
Of  Coveitise  comen  thise  hartle  lord- 
shipes,  thurgh  whiche  men  been  dis- 
treyned  by  tailages,  custumes,  and 
cariages,  more  than  hir  duetee  or 
resoun  is.  And  eek  they  taken  of 
hir  bonde-men  amerciments,  whiche 
mighlen  more  resonably  ben  clepcd 
extorcions  than  amerciments.  /  Of 
whiche  amerciments  and  raunsoninge 
of  bondemen,  somme  lordes  stywardes 


762 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES, 


[753-774- 


seyn,  that  it  is  rightful;  for-as-muche 
as  a  chcrl  hath  no  teniporel  thing 
that  it  ne  is  his  lordes,  as  they  seyn./ 
But  certes,  thise  lordshipes  doon 
wrong,  that  bireven  hir  bonde-folk 
thinges  that  they  nevere  yave  hem : 
Augustinus  de  Civitate,  libro  nono.  / 
Sooth  is,  that  the  condicioun  of  thral- 
dom and  the  firste  cause  of  thraldom 
755  is  for  sinne;    Genesis,  quinto.  / 

§  65.  Thus  may  ye  seen  that  the 
gilt  disserveth  thraldom,  but  nat 
nature.  /  Wherfore  thise  lordes  ne 
sholde  nat  muche  glorifyen  hem  in 
hir  lordshipes,  siththat  by  naturel  con- 
dicion  they  been  nat  lordes  of  thralles ; 
but  for  that  thraldom  comth  fn-st 
by  the  desert  of  sinne.  /  And  forther- 
over,  ther-as  the  lavve  seith,  that  tem- 
porel  godes  of  bonde-folk  been  the 
godes  of  hir  lordshipes,  ye,  that  is 
for  to  understonde,  the  godes  of  the 
emperour,  to  deffenden  hem  in  hir 
right,  but  nat  for  to  robben  hem  ne 
reven  hem.  /  And  therfore  seith 
Seneca :  '  thy  prudence  sholde  live 
benignely  with  thy  thralles.'  /  Thilke 
that  thou  clepest  thy  thralles  been 
goddes  peple;  for  humble  folk  been 
Cristes  freendes;  they  been  contuber- 
760  nial  with  the  lord.  / 

§  66.  Think  eek,  that  of  swich  seed 
as  cherles  springeth,  of  swich  seed 
springen  lordes.  As  wel  may  the 
chcrl  be  saved  as  the  lord.  /  The 
same  deeth  that  taketii  the  cherl,  swich 
deeth  laketh  the  lord.  Wherfore  I 
rede,  do  right  so  with  thy  cherl,  as  thou 
woldest  that  thy  lord  dide  with  thee, 
if  thou  were  in  his  plyt.  /  Every 
sinful  man  is  a  cherl  to  sinne. 
I  rede  thee,  certes,  that  thou,  lord, 
werke  in  swiche  wyse  with  thy 
cherles,  that  they  rather  love  thee 
than  drede.  /  I  woot  wel  ther  is 
degree  above  degree,  as  reson  is;  and 
skile  it  is,  that  men  do  hir  devoir 
ther-as  it  is  due ;  but  certes,  extorcions 
and  despit  of  youre  underlinges  is 
dampnable.  / 

§  67.  And  forther-over  understond 
wel,  that  thise  conquerours  or  tiraunts 
maken  ful  ofte  thralles  of  hem,  that 


been  born  of  as  royal  lilood  as  been 
they  that  hem  conqueren.  /  This  7^5 
name  of  thraldom  was  nevere  erst 
couth,  til  that  Noe  seyde,  that  his 
sone  Canaan  sholde  be  thral  to  hise 
bretheren  for  his  sinne./  What  seye 
we  thanne  of  hem  that  pilen  and  doon 
extorcions  to  holy  chirche?  Certes, 
the  swerd,  that  men  yeven  first  to  a 
knight  .whan  he  is  newe  dubbed, 
signifyeth  that  he  sholde  deffenden 
holy  chirche,  and  nat  robben  it  ne 
pilen  it;  and  whoso  dooth,  is  traitour 
to  Crist.  /  And,  as  seith  seint  Augus- 
tin,  '  they  been  the  develes  wolves, 
that  stranglen  the  sheep  of  lesu 
Crist' ;  and  doon  worse  than  wolves.  / 
For  soothly,  whan  the  wolf  hath  ful 
his  wombe,  he  stintcth  to  strangle 
sheep.  But  soothly,  the  pilours  and 
destroyours  of  goddes  holy  chirche 
ne  do  nat  so ;  for  they  ne  stinte  nevere 
to  pile.  /  Now,  as  I  have  seyd,  sith 
so  is  that  sinne  was  first  cause  of 
thraldom,  thanne  is  it  thus;  that  thilke 
tyme  that  al  this  world  was  in  sinne, 
thanne  was  al  this  world  in  thraldom 
and  subieccioun.  /  But  certes,  sith  770 
the  tyme  of  grace  cam,  god  ordeyned 
that  som  folk  sholde  be  more  heigh 
in  estaat  and  in  degree,  and  som  folk 
more  lowe,  and  that  everich  sholde 
be  served  in  his  estaat  and  in  his 
degree.  /  And  therfore,  in  somme 
contrees  ther  they  byen  thralles, 
whan  they  han  turned  hem  to  the 
feith,  they  maken  hir  thralles  free  out 
of  thraldom.  And  therfore,  certes, 
the  lord  oweth  to  his  man  that  the 
man  oweth  to  his  lord.  /  The  Pope 
calleth  him-self  servant  of  the  ser- 
vaunts  of  god;  but  for-as-muche  as 
the  estaat  of  holy  chirche  ne  mighte 
nat  han  be,  ne  the  commune  profit 
mighte  nat  han  be  kept,  ne  pees  and 
reste  in  erthe,  but-if  god  hadde 
ordeyned  that  soin  men  hadde  hyer 
degree  and  som  men  lov\er  :  /  therfore 
was  sovereyntee  ordeyned  to  kepe 
and  mayntene  and  deffenden  hir  un- 
derlinges or  hir  subgets  in  resoun,  as 
fcrforth  as  it  lyth  in  hir  power;  and 
nat  to  destroyen  hem  ne  confounde.  / 


775-795-J 


I.    THE   rEKSONES  TALE. 


763 


Whcrfore  I  scyc,  that  thilke  loriles 
that  been  lyk  wolves,  that  devuarcu 
the  pussessiouns  or  the  catcl  of  povrc 
folk  \vr0nj4fully,  with-outcn    mercy  or 

775  inesure,  /  they  shul  receyven,  by  the 
same  mesure  that  they  hau  mcsured 
to  povre  folk,  the  mercy  of  lesu  Crist, 
but-if  it  be  amended.  /  Now  comth 
deceite  bitwixe  marchant  and  mar- 
chant.  And  tliow  shalt  un<lerstonde, 
that  inarchandyse  is  in  two  manercs; 
that  oon  is  bodily,  ami  that  other  is 
goostly.  That  oon  is  honeste  and 
leveful,  and  that  other  is  deshoneste 
and  unleveful.  /  Of  thilke  bodily 
marchandyse,  that  is  leveful  and 
honeste,  is  this;  that,  there-as  god 
hath  ortleyned  that  a  regne  or  a  con- 
tree  is  suftisaunt  to  him-self,  thanne  is 
it  honeste  and  leveful,  that  of  habun- 
tlaunce  of  this  contree,  that  men  helpe 
another  contree  that  is  more  nedy.  / 
And  therfore,  ther  mote  been  mar-  • 
chants  to  bringen  fro  that  o  contree 
to  that  other  hire  marchandyses.  / 
That  other  marchandise,  that  men 
haunten  with  fraude  antl  tiecherie 
and   deceite,  with  lesinges  and  false 

780  othes,  is  cursed  and  danipnable.  / 
Espirituel  marchandyse  is  proprely 
Symonye,  that  is,  ententif  desyr  to 
byen  thing  espirituel,  that  is,  thing 
that  aperteneth  to  the  seintuarie  of 
god  and  to  cure  of  the  soule.  /  This 
desyr,  if  so  be  that  a  man  do  his  dili- 
gence to  parfournen  it,  al-be-it  that 
his  desyr  ne  take  noon  effect,  yet  is  it 
to  him  a  deedly  sinne ;  and  if  he  be 
ordred,  he  is  irreguler.  /  Certes, 
Symonye  is  cleped  of  Symon  Magus, 
that  wolde  han  boght,  for  temporel 
catel,  the  yifte  that  god  hadde  yeven, 
by  the  holy  goost,  to  seint  Peter  and 
to  tlie  apostles.  /  And  therfore  un- 
derstond,  that  bothe  he  that  selleth 
and  he  that  byeth  thinges  espirituels, 
been  cleped  Symonials;  be  it  by 
catel,  be  it  by  procuringe,  or  by 
fleshly  preyere  of  hise  freendes,  fleshly 
freendes,  or  espirituel  freendes.  / 
Fleshly,  in  two  maneres;  as  by  kinrede 
or  othere  freendes.  Soothly,  if  they 
praye  for  him  that  is  nat  worthy  and 


able,  it  is  Symonye  if  he  take  the 
benefice;  and  if  he  i)e  worthy  and 
able,  ther  nis  noon.  /  That  other  7S5 
manere  is,  whan  a  man  or  wimiman 
preyen  for  folk  to  avauncen  hem,  only 
for  wikked  fleshly  affeccioun  that  they 
have  un-to  the  persime;  and  that  is 
foul  Symonye.  /  IJut  certes,  in  ser- 
vice, for  which  men  yeven  thinges 
espirituels  un-to  hir  servants,  it  moot 
been  understonde  that  the  service 
moot  been  honeste,  anil  elles  nat;  and 
eek  that  it  be  with-outen  bargayninge, 
and  that  the  persone  be  able.  /  I'or, 
as  seith  Seint  Daniasie, '  alle  the  sinnes 
of  the  worhl,  at  reganl  of  this  sinne, 
am  as  thing  of  noght';  for  it  is  the 
gretleste  sinne  that  may  be,  after 
the  sinne  of  Lucifer  and  Antecrist.  / 
For,  by  this  sinne,  god  forleseth  the 
chirchc,  and  the  soule  thai  he  boghte 
with  his  precious  blood,  by  hem  that 
yeven  chirches  to  hem  that  been  nat 
digne.  /  For  they  putten  in  theves, 
that  stelen  the  soules  of  lesu  Christ 
and  destroyen  his  patrinioine.  /  By  790 
swiche  undigne  preestes  and  curates 
han  lewed  men  the  lasse  reverence  of 
the  sacraments  of  holy  chirche;  and 
swiche  yeveres  of  chirches  putten  out 
the  children  of  Crist,  and  putten  in-to 
the  chirche  the  develes  owene  sone.  / 
They  sellen  the  soules  that  lanibes 
sholde  kepen  to  the  wolf  that  stran- 
gleth  hem.  Antl  therfore  shul  they 
nevere  han  part  of  the  jjasture  of 
lambes,  that  is,  the  blisse  of  hevene.  / 
Now  comth  hasardrye  with  hise  apur- 
tenaunces,  as  tables  and  rafles;  of 
which  comth  deceite,  false  othes, 
chydinges,  and  alle  ravines,  iilasphcm- 
inge  and  reneyinge  of  god,  and  hate 
of  hise  neighebores,  wast  of  godes, 
misspendinge  of  tyme,  anil  sonityme 
manslaughtre.  /  Certes,  hasartlours 
ne  mowe  nat  been  with-outen  greet 
sinne  whyles  they  haunte  that  craft.  / 
Of  avarice  comen  eek  lesinges,  thcfte, 
fals  witnesse,  and  false  othes.  And 
ye  shul  understonde  that  thise  been 
grele  sinnes,  and  ex])res  agayn  the 
comaundements  of  god,  as  I  have 
seyd.  /     Fals  witnesse  is  in  word  and  7% 


764 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[796-817. 


eek  in  dede.  In  word,  as  for  to  bireve 
thy  neighebores  goode  name  by  thy 
fals  witnessing,  or  bireven  him  his 
catel  or  his  heritage  by  thy  fals  wit- 
nessing; whan  thou,  for  ire  or  for 
mede,  or  for  envye,berest  fals  witnesse, 
or  accusest  him  or  excusest  him  by 
thy  fals  witnesse,  or  elles  excusest 
thy-self  falsly.  /  Ware  yow,  queste- 
niongeres  and  notaries !  Certes,  for 
fals  witnessing  was  Susanna  in  ful 
gret  sorwe  and  peyne,  and  many 
another  mo.  /  The  sinne  of  thefte 
is  eek  expres  agayns  goddes  heste, 
and  that  in  two  maneres,  corporel  and 
espirituel.  /  Corporel,  as  for  to  take 
thy  neighebores  catel  agayn  his  wil, 
be  it  by  force  or  by  sleighte,  be  it  i)y 
met  or  by  mesure.  /  By  steling  eek 
of  false  enditements  upon  him,  and  in 
borwinge  of  thy  neighebores  catel, 
in  entente  nevere  to  payen  it  agayn, 
800  and  semblable  thinges.  /  Espirituel 
thefte  is  Sacrilege,  that  is  to  seyn, 
hurtinge  of  holy  thinges,  or  of  thinges 
sacred  to  Crist,  in  two  maneres;  by 
reson  of  the  holy  place,  as  chirches 
or  chirche  hawes,  /  for  which  every 
vileyns  sinne  that  men  doon  in  swiche 
places  may  be  cleped  sacrilege, or  every 
violence  in  the  semblable  places.  Also, 
they  that  withdrawen  falsly  the  rightes 
that  longen  to  holy  chirche.  /  And 
pleynly  and  generally,  sacrilege  is  to 
reven  holy  thing  fro  holy  place,  or 
unholy  thing  out  of  holy  place,  or  holy 
thing  out  of  unholy  place.  / 

Kelevacio  contra  peccattim  Avaricie. 

§  68.  Now  shul  ye  understonde, 
that  the  relevinge  of  Avarice  is  mis- 
ericorde,  and  pitee  largely  taken. 
And  men  mighten  axe,  why  that  mis- 
ericorde  and  pitee  is  relevinge  of 
Avarice?  /  Certes,  the  avaricious 
man  sheweth  no  pitee  ne  misericorde 
to  the  nedeful  man;  for  he  delyteth 
him  in  the  kepinge  of  his  tresor,  and 
nat  in  the  rescowinge  ne  relevinge 
of  his  evene-cristene.  And  therfore 
805  speke  I  first  of  misericorde.  /  Thanne 
is  misericorde,  as  seith  the  philoso- 


phre,  a  vertu,  by  which  the  corage  of 
man  is  stired  by  the  misese  of  him 
that  is  misesed.  /  Up-on  which 
misericorde  folweth  pitee,  in  par- 
fourninge  of  charitable  werkes  of 
misericorde.  /  And  certes,  thise 
thinges  moeven  a  man  to  misericorde 
of  lesu  Crist,  that  he  yaf  him-self  for 
cure  gilt,  and  suffred  deeth  for  mis- 
ericorde, and  forgaf  us  oure  originale 
sinnes;  /  and  therby  relessed  us  fro 
the  peynes  of  helle,  and  amenused 
the  peynes  of  purgatorie  by  penitence, 
and  yeveth  grace  wel  to  do,  and  atte 
laste  the  blisse  of  hevene.  /  The 
speces  of  misericorde  been,  as  for  to 
lene  and  for  to  yeve  and  to  foryeven 
and  relesse,  and  for  to  han  pitee  in 
herte,  and  compassioun  of  the  mes- 
chief  of  his  evene-cristene,  and  eek  to 
chastyse  there  as  nede  is.  /  Another  810 
manere  of  remedie  agayns  Avarice  is 
resonable  largesse;  but  soothly,  here 
bihoveth  the  consideracioun  of  the 
grace  of  lesu  Crist,  and  of  hise  tem- 
porel  goodes,  and  eek  of  the  godes 
perdurables  that  Crist  yaf  to  us;  / 
and  to  han  remembrance  of  the  deeth 
that  he  shal  receyve,  he  noot  whanne, 
where,  ne  h(jw;  and  eek  that  he  shal 
forgon  al  that  he  hath,  save  only  that 
he  hath  despended  in  gode  werkes.  / 
§  69.  But  for-as-muche  as  som 
folk  been  unmesurable,  men  oghten 
eschue  fool-largesse,  that  men  clepen 
wast.  /  Certes,  he  that  is  fool-large 
ne  yeveth  nat  his  catel,  but  he  leseth 
his  catel.  Soothly,  what  thing  that 
he  yeveth  for  veyne  glorie,  as  to 
minstrals  and  to  folk,  for  to  beren  his 
renoun  in  the  world,  he  hath  sinne 
ther-of  and  noon  almesse.  /  Cert«s, 
he  leseth  foule  his  good,  that  ne 
seketh  with  the  yifte  of  his  good  no- 
thing but  sinne./  He  is  lyk  to  an  horsSi5 
that  seketh  rather  to  drinken  drovy 
or  trouble  water  than  for  to  drinken 
water  of  the  clere  welle.  /  And 
for-as-muchel  as  they  yeven  ther  as 
they  sholde  nat  yeven,  to  hem  aper- 
teneth  thilke  malisoun  that  Crist  shal 
yeven  at  the  day  of  dome  to  hem 
that  shullen  been  dampned.  / 


8IS-836.] 


I.     THE   PERSONES   TALE. 


765 


Sequittir  de  Gula. 

§  70.  After  Avarice  comth  Glot- 
onye,  which  is  expres  eek  agayn  the 
comandenient  of  god.  Glotunye  is 
unniesurable  appetyt  to  ete  or  to 
(Irinke,  or  ellos  to  doon  y-nogli  to  the 
unmesurable  appetyt  and  desordeynee 
coveityse  to  eten  or  to  drinke.  / 
This  sinne  corrumped  al  this  world, 
as  is  wel  shewed  in  the  sinne  of 
Adam  and  of  Eve.  Loke  eek,  what 
seith  seint  Paul  of  Glotonye.  / 
'  Manye,'  seith  seint  Paul,  'goon,  of 
whiche  I  have  ofte  seyd  to  vow,  and 
now  I  seye  it  wepinge,  that  they  been 
the  eneniys  of  the  croys  of  Crist;  of 
whiche  the  ende  is  deeth,  and  of 
whiche  hir  wombe  is  hir  god,  and  hir 
glorie  in  confusioun  of  hem  that  so 

820  saveren  erthely  thinges.'  /  He  that 
is  usaunt  to  this  sinne  of  Glotonye,  he 
ne  may  no  sinne  withstonde.  He 
moot  been  in  servage  of  alle  vyces, 
for  it  is  the  develes  hord  ther  he 
hydeth  him  and  resteth.  /  This 
sinne  hath  manye  speces.  The  firste 
is  dronkenesse,  that  is  the  horrible 
sepulture  of  mannes  resoun;  and 
therfore,  whan  a  man  is  dronken,  he 
hath  lost  his  resoun;  and  this  is  deedly 
sinne.  /  But  soothly,  whan  that  a 
man  is  nat  wont  to  strong  drinke, 
and  peraventure  ne  knoweth  nat  the 
strengthe  of  the  drinke,  or  hath 
fel)lesse  in  his  heed,  or  hath  travailed, 
thurgh  which  he  drinketh  the  more, 
al  be  he  sodeynly  caught  with  drinke, 
it  is  no  deedly  sinne,  but  venial.  / 
The  seconde  spece  of  Glotonye  is, 
that  the  spirit  of  a  man  wexeth  al 
troul)le;  for  dronkenesse  bireveth  him 
the-  discrecioun  of  his  wit.  /  The 
.thridde  spece  of  Glotonye  is,  whan  a 
man  devoureth  his  mete,  and  hath  no 

825  rightful  manere  of  etinge.  /  The 
fourthe  is  whan,  thurgh  the  grete 
habuiidaunce  of  his  mete,  the  humours 
in  his  body  been  destempred.  /  The 
fifthe  is,  foryetclnesse  by  to  muchel 
(Irinkinge;  for  which  somtyme  a  man 
foryctcth  er  the  morwe  what  he  diiie 
at  even  or  on  the  night  biforn.  / 


§  71.  In  other  manere  been  dis- 
tinct the  speces  of  (dotonye,  after 
seint  (iregorie.  The  tirste  is,  for  to 
ete  biforn  tyme  to  ete.  The  seconde 
is,  whan  a  man  get  him  to  delicat 
mete  or  drinke.  /  The  thridde  is, 
whan  men  taken  to  muche  over  mesure. 
The  fourthe  is  curit)sitee,  with  greet 
entente  to  maken  and  a]i])araillcn  his 
mete.  The  lifthe  is,  f^)r  to  eten  to 
gredily.  /  Thise  been  the  fyve  lingres 
of  the  develes  hand,  by  whiclie  he 
draweth  folk  to  sinne.  /  S30 

Keinedium  contra  peccatum  Gule. 

§  72.  Agayns  Glotonye  isthereme- 
die  Abstinence,  as  seith  Galien;  but 
that  holde  I  nat  meritorie,  if  he  do  it 
only  for  the  hele  of  his  body.  Seint 
Augustin  vvole,  that  Abstinence  be 
doon  for  vertu  and  with  pacience,  / 
Abstinence,  he  seith,  is  litel  worth, 
but-if  a  man  have  good  wil  thcr-to, 
and  but  it  be  enforced  by  pacience 
and  by  charitee,  and  that  men  doon 
it  for  godes  sake,  and  in  hope  to  have 
the  blisse  of  hevene.  / 

§  73.  The  felawes  of  Abstinence 
been  Attemperaunce,  that  holdeth 
the  mene  in  alle  thinges:  eek  Shame, 
that  eschueth  alle  deshonestee  :  Suffi- 
sance,  that  seketh  no  riche  metes  ne 
drinkes,  ne  dooth  no  fors  of  to  outra- 
geous apparailinge  of  mete.  /  Mesure 
also,  that  restreyneth  by  resoun  the 
deslavee  appetyt  of  etinge :  Sobre- 
nesse  also,  that  restreyneth  the  out- 
rage of  drinke  :  /  Sparinge  also, 
that  restreyneth  the  delicat  ese  to 
sitte  longe  at  his  mete  and  softely; 
wherfore  som  folk  stonden  of  hir 
owene  wil,  to  eten  at  the  lasse  leyser./  835 

Seqtiitur  de  Luxuria. 

§  74.  After  Glotonye,  thanne 
comth  I.echerie;  for  thise  two  sinnes 
been  so  ny  cosins,  that  ofte  tyme 
they  wol  nat  departe.  /  ("n)d  woot, 
this  sinne  is  ful  displosaunt  thing  to 
god;  for  he  seyde  himself,  'do  no 
lecherie.'      And    therfore    he    putte 


766 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[837-858. 


grete  peynes  agayns  this  sinne  in  the 
okie  lavve.  /  If  womnian  thral  were 
taken  in  this  sinne,  she  sholde  be 
beten  with  staves  to  the  deeth.  And 
if  she  were  a  gentil  womman,  she 
sholde  be  slayn  with  stones.  And  if 
she  were  a  bisshoppes  doghter,  she 
sholde  been  brent,  by  goddes  com- 
andement.  /  Forther  over,  by  the 
sinne  of  Lecherie,  god  dreynte  al  the 
world  at  the  diluge.  And  after  that, 
he  brente  fyve  citees  with  thonder- 
leyt,  and  sank  hem  in-to  helle.  / 

§  75.  Now  lat  us  speke  thanne  of 
thilke  stinkinge  sinne  of  Lecherie 
that  men  clepe  Avoutrie  of  wedded 
folk,  that  is   to   seyn,  if  that  oon  of 

840  hem  be  wedded,  or  elles  b(jthe.  / 
Seint  lohn  seith,  that  avoutiers  shul- 
len  been  in  helle  in  a  stank  brenninge 
of  fyr  and  of  brimston;  in  fyr,  for  the 
lecherie;  in  brimston,  for  the  stink 
of  hir  ordure.  /  Certes,  the  brek- 
inge  of  this  sacrement  is  an  horrible 
thing;  it  was  maked  of  god  him-self 
in  paradys,  and  confermed  by  lesu 
Crist,  as  witnesseth  seint  Mathew  in 
the  gospel :  '  A  man  shal  lete  fader 
and  moder,  and  taken  him  to  his  wyf, 
and  they  sliullen  be  two  in  o  flesh.'  / 
This  sacrement  bitokneth  the  knit- 
tinge  togidre  of  Crist  and  of  holy 
chirche.  /  And  nat  only  that  god 
forbad  avoutrie  in  dede,  but  eek  he 
comanded  that  thou  shol'dest  nat 
coveite  thy  neighebores  wyf.  /  In 
this  heeste,  seith  seint  Augustin,  is 
forboden  alle  manere  coveitise  to  doon 
lecherie.  Lo  what  seith  seint  Mathew 
in  the  gospel  :  that  '  who-so  seeth  a 
womman  to  coveitise  of  his  lust,  he 
hath    doon    lecherie  with  hir  in  his 

845  herte.'  /  Here  may  ye  seen  that  nat 
only  tRe  dede  of  this  sinne  is  forboden, 
but  eek  the  desyrto  doon  that  sinne.  / 
This  cursed  sinne  anoyeth  grevous- 
liche  hem  that  it  haunten.  And  first, 
to  hir  soule;  for  he  oblygeth  it  to 
sinne  and  to  peyne  of  deeth  that  is 
perdurable.  /  Un-to  the  body  anoy- 
eth it  grevously  also,  for  it  dreyeth 
him,  and  wasteth,  and  shent  him,  and 
of  his  blood  he  maketh  sacrifyce  to 


the  feend  of  helle ;  it  wasteth  his 
catel  and  his  substaunce.  /  And 
certes,  if  it  be  a  foul  thing,  a  man  to 
waste  his  catel  on  wommen,  yet  is  it 
a  fouler  thing  whan  that,  for  swich 
ordure,  wommen  dispenden  up-on 
men  hir  catel  and  substaunce./  This 
sinne,  as  seith  the  prophete,  bireveth 
man  and  womman  hir  g(jde  fame, 
and  al  hir  honour;  and  it  is  ful  pleas- 
aunt  to  the  devel ;  for  ther-by  winneth 
he  the  moste  partie  of  this  world.  /  850 
And  right  as  a  marchant  delyteth  him 
most  in  chaffare  that  he  hath  most 
avantage  of,  right  so  delyteth  the 
feend  in  this  ordure.  / 

§  76.  This  is  that  other  hand  of 
the  devel,  with  fyve  fingres,  to  cacche 
thepeple  to  hisvileinye.  /  Thefirste 
finger  is  the  fool  lookinge  of  the  fool 
womman  and  of  the  fool  man,  that 
sleeth,  right  as  the  basilicok  sleeth  folk 
by  the  venimof  hissighte;  for  the  cov- 
eitise of  eyen  folweth  the  coveitise  of 
the  herte.  /  The  seconde  finger  is 
the  vileyns  touchinge  in  wilckede 
manere;  and  ther-fore  seith  Salomon, 
that  who-so  toucheth  and  handleth  a 
womman,  he  fareth  lyk  him  that  han- 
dleth the  scorpioun  that  stingeth  and 
sodeynly  sleeth  thurgh  his  envcnim- 
inge;  as  who-so  toucheth  warm  pich, 
it  shent  hise  fingres.  /  The  thridde, 
is  foule  wordes,  that  fareth  lyk  fyr, 
that  right  anon  brenneth  the  herte.  /  855 
The  fourthe  finger  is  the  kissinge; 
and  trewely  he  were  a  greet  fool  that 
wolde  kissethe  mouth  of  a  brenninge 
ovene  or  of  a  fourneys.  /  And  more 
fooles  been  they  that  kissen  in 
vileinye;  for  that  mouth  is  the 
mouth  of  helle :  and  namely,  thise 
olde  dotardes  holours,  yet  wol  they 
kisse,  though  they  may  nat  do,  and* 
smatre  hem.  /  Certes,  they  been 
lyk  to  houndes;  for  an  hound,  whan 
he  comth  by  the  roscr  or  by  othere 
[busshes],  though  he  may  nat  pisse, 
yet  wole  he  heve  up  his  leg  anrl  make 
a  contenaunce  to  pisse.  /  And  for 
that  many  man  weneth  that  he  may 
nat  sinne,  for  no  likerousnesse  that 
he    doth  with    his  wyf;    certes,  that 


859-8SI.] 


I.    THE   TERSONES  TALE. 


767 


opinion  is  fals.  Ciod  woot,  a  man  may 
sleen  liim-sclfwitli  his  owene  knyf,  and 
make  him-selvcn  drunken  of  his  owene 
tonne.  /  Certcs,  he  it  wyf,  he  it  child, 
or  any  worldly  thing  that  he  loveth 
hiforn  god,  it  is  his  maumet,  and  he  is 

860  an  ydolastre.  /  Man  sholde  loven 
his  wyf  by  discrecioun,  paciently  and 
atemprely;  and  thanne  is  she  as 
though  it  were  his  suster.  /  The 
fifthc  linger  of  the  develes  hand  is 
the  stinkinge  dede  of  Lecherie.  / 
Certes,  the  fyve  fingres  of  Glotonie  the 
feend  put  in  the  wombe  of  a  man, 
and  with  hise  fyve  fyngresof  Lecherie 
he  gripeth  him  by  the  reynes,  for  to 
throwen  him  in-to  the  fourneys  of 
helle;  /  ther-as  they  shul  han  the  fyr 
and  the  wormesthat  evere  shul  lasten, 
and  wepinge  and  wailinge,  sharp 
hunger  and  thurst,  and  grimnesse  of 
develes  that  shullen  al  to-trede  hem, 
with-outen  respit  and  with-outen 
ende.  /  Of  Lecherie,  as  I  seyde, 
sourden  diverse  speces;  as  fornica- 
cioun,  that  is  bitwixe  man  and  wom- 
man  that  been  nat  maried;    and  this 

S65  is  deedly  sinne  and  agayns  nature./ 
Al  that  is  enemy  and  destruccioun  to 
nature  is  agayns  nature./  Parfay,  the 
resoun  of  a  man  telleth  eek  him  wel 
that  it  is  deedly  sinne,  for-as-muche 
as  god  forbad  Lecherie.  And  seint 
Paul  yeveth  hem  the  regne,  that  nis 
dewe  to  no  wight  but  to  hem  that 
doon  deedly  sinne.  /  Another  sinne 
of  Lecherie  is  to  bireve  a  mayden  of 
hir  maydenhede;  for  he  that  so 
dooth,  certes,  he  casteth  a  mayden 
out  of  the  hyeste  degree  that  is  in 
this  present  lyf,  /  and  bireveth  hir 
thilke  precious  fruit  that  the  book 
clepeth  'the  hundred  fruit.'  I  ne 
can  scye  it  noon  other  weyes  in  Eng- 
lish, but  in  Latin  it  highte  Centesimns 
fructiis.  I  Certcs,  he  that  so  dooth 
is  cause  of  manye  damages  and 
vileinyes,  mo  than  any  man  can  rek- 
ene;  right  as  he  som-tyme  is  cause  of 
alle  damages  that  bestes  don  in  the 
ft'cld.  that  brekcth  the  hegge  or  the 
closure;    thurgh  which   he  destroyeth 

870  that  may  nat  been  restored.  /     For 


certes,  na-more  may  maydenhede  be 
restored  than  an  arm  that  is  sniiten 
fro  the  body  may  rctourne  agayn  to 
vvexe.  /  .She  may  have  mercy,  this 
woot  1  wel,  if  she  do  penitence;  but 
nevere  shal  it  be  that  she  nas  cor- 
rupt. /  And  al-be-it  so  that  I  have 
spoken  somwhat  of  Avoutrie,  it  is 
good  to  shewen  mo  perils  that  longen 
to  ,'\voutrie,  for  to  eschuc  that  foule 
sinne.  /  Avoutrie  in  Latin  is  for  to 
seyn,  approchinge  of  other  niannes 
bed,  thurgh  which  tho  that  whylom 
weren  o  flt-ssh  abaundone  hir  bodycs 
to  othere  persones.  /  Df  this  sinne, 
as  scith  the  wyse  man,  folwen  manye 
harmes.  First,  brekinge  of  feith;  and 
certes,  in  feith  is  the  keye  of  C'risten- 
dom.  /  .'Xnd  whan  that  feith  is  S75 
broken  and  lorn,  soothly  Cristendom 
stant  veyn  and  with-outen  fruit.  / 
This  sinne  is  eek  a  thefte;  for  thefte 
generally  is  for  to  reve  a  wight  his 
thing  agayns  his  wille.  /  Certcs,  this 
is  the  fouleste  thefte  that  may  be, 
vv'han  a  uomman  steleth  hir  body 
from  hir  housbonde  and  yeveth  it  to 
hire  holour  to  defoulen  hir;  and  stel- 
eth hir  soule  fro  Crist,  and  yeveth  it 
to  the  devel.  /  This  is  a  fouler 
thefte,  than  for  to  breke  a  chirche 
and  stele  the  chalice;  for  thise  Avout- 
iers  breken  the  temple  of  god  spirit- 
ually, and  stelen  the  vessel  of  grace, 
that  is,  the  body  and  the  soule,  for 
which  Crist  shal  destroyen  hem,  as 
seith  Seint  Paul.  /  Soothly  of  this 
thefte  douted  gretly  Joseph,  whan 
that  his  lordes  wyf  preyed  him  of 
vileinye,  whan  he  seyde, '  lo,  my  lady, 
how  my  lord  hath  take  to  me  under 
my  warde  al  that  he  hath  in  this 
world;  ne  no-thing  of  hise  thinges  is 
out  of  my  power,  but  only  ye  that 
been  his  wyf.  /  And  how  sholde  I  S80 
thanne  do  this  wikkednesse,  and 
sinne  so  horribly  agayns  god,  anfl 
agayns  my  lord?  (!od  it  forbede.' 
Alias!  al  to  litel  isswich  trouthe  now 
y-founde !  /  The  thridde  harm  is 
the  lilthe  thurgh  which  they  brekcn 
the  comandement  of  god,  and  de- 
foulen  the    auctour   of    matrimoine, 


768 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[882-900. 


that  is  Crist.  /  For  certes,  in-so- 
muche  as  the  sacrement  of  mariage 
is  so  noble  and  so  digne,  so  muche  is 
it  gretter  sinne  for  to  breken  it;  for 
god  made  mariage  in  paradys,  in  the 
estaat  of  Innocence,  to  multiplye 
man-kinde  to  the  service  of  god.  / 
And  therfore  is  the  brekinge  ther-of 
more  grevous.  Of  which  brekinge 
comen  false  heires  ofte  tyme,  that 
wrongfully  occupyen  folkes  heritages. 
And  therfore  wol  Crist  putte  hem  out 
of  the  regne  of  hevene,  that  is  heri- 
tage to  gode  folk.  /  Of  this  brek- 
inge comth  eek  ofte  tyme,  that  folk 
unwar  wedden  or  sinnen  with  hir 
owene  kinrede;  and  namely  thilke 
harlottes  that  haunten  bordels  of 
thise  fool  wommen,  that  mowe  be 
lykned  to  a  commune  gonge,  where-as 

885  men  purgen  hir  ordure.  /  What 
seye  we  eek  of  putours  that  liven  by 
the  horrible  sinne  of  putrie,  and  con- 
streyne  wommen  to  yelden  to  hem  a 
certeyn  rente  of  hir  bodily  puterie,  ye, 
somtyme  of  his  owene  wyf  or  his 
child;  as  doon  this  baudes?  Certes, 
thise  been  cursede  sinnes.  /  Under- 
stond  eek,  that  avoutrie  is  set  gladly 
in  the  ten  comandements  bitvvixe 
thefte  and  manslaughtre;  for  it  is 
the  gretteste  thefte  that  may  be; 
for  it  is  thefte  of  body  and  of 
soule.  /  And  it  is  lyk  to  homi- 
cyde;  for  it  kerveth  a-two  and 
breketh  a-two  hem  that  first  were 
maked  o  flesh,  and  therfore,  by  the 
olde  lavve  of  god,  they  sholde  be 
slayn./  But  nathelees,  by  the  lawe 
of  lesu  Crist,  that  is  lawe  of  pitee, 
wfftin  he  seyde  to  the  womman  that 
was  founden  in  avoutrie,  and  sholde 
han  been  slayn  with  stones,  after  the 
wil  of  the  lewes,  as  was  hir  lawe : 
'  Go,'  quod  lesu  Crist,  '  and  have  na- 
more  wil  to  sinne '  ;  or,  '  wille  na- 
more  to  do  sinne.'/  Soothly,  the 
vengeaunce  of  avoutrie  is  awarded 
to  the  peynes  of  helle,  but-if  so  be 

890  that  it  be  destourbed  by  penitence.  / 
Yet  been  ther  mo  speces  of  this 
cursed  sinne;  as  whan  that  oon  of 
hem  is  religious,  or  elles  bothe;   or  of 


folk  that  been  entred  in-to  ordre,  as 
subdekne  or  dekne,  or  preest,  or 
hospitaliers.  And  evere  the  hyer 
that  he  is  in  ordre,  the  gretter  is  the 
sinne.  /  The  thinges  that  gretly 
agreggen  hir  sinne  is  the  brekinge 
of  hir  avow  of  chastitee,  whan  they 
receyved  the  ordre.  /  And  forther- 
over,  sooth  is,  that  holy  ordre  is  chief 
of  al  the  tresorie  of  god,  and  his 
especial  signe  and  mark  of  chastitee; 
to  shewe  that  they  been  ioyned  to 
chastitee,  which  that  is  most  precious 
lyf  that  is.  /  And  thise  ordred  folk 
been  specially  tytled  to  god,  and  of 
the  special  meynee  of  god ;  for  which, 
whan  they  doon  deedly  sinne,  they 
been  the  special  traytours  of  god  and 
of  his  peple;  for  they  liven  of  the 
peple,  to  preye  for  the  peple,  and 
whyle  they  been  suche  traitours,  hir 
preyers  availen  nat  to  the  peple./ 
Preestes  been  aungeles,  as  by  the  dig- 
nitee  of  hir  misterye;  but  for  sothe, 
seint  Paul  seith,  that '  Sathanas  trans- 
formeth  him  in  an  aungel  of  light.'/  895 
Soothly,  the  preest  that  haunteth 
deedly  sinne,  he  may  be  lykned  to 
the  aungel  of  derlcnesse  transformed 
in  the  aungel  of  light;  he  semeth 
aungel  of  light,  but  for  sothe  he  is 
aungelofderknesse./  Swiche preestes 
been  the  sones  of  Helie,  as  sheweth 
in  the  book  of  Kinges,  that  they 
w'eren  the  sones  of  Belial,  that  is,  the 
devel.  /  Belial  is  to  seyn  '  with-outen 
luge';  and  so  faren  they;  hem 
thinketh  they  been  free,  and  han  no 
luge,  na-more  than  hath  a  free  bole 
that  taketh  which  cow  that  him  lyketh 
in  the  toun.  /  So  faren  they  by 
v/ommen.  For  right  as  a  free  bole  is 
y-nough  for  al  a  toun,  right  so  is  a 
wikked  preest  corrupcioun  y-nough 
for  al  a  parisshe,  or  for  al  acontree./ 
Thise  preestes,  as  seith  the  book,  ne 
conne  nat  the  misterie  of  preesthode 
to  the  peple,  ne  god  ne  knowe  they 
nat;  they  ne  helde  hem  nat  apayd,  as 
seith  the  book,  of  soden  flesh  that  was 
to  hem  offred,  but  they  toke  by  force 
the  flesh  that  is  rawe.  /  Certes,  so  900 
thise   shrewes   ne   holden    hem    nat 


90I-9I9-] 


I.    THE   PERSONES  TALE. 


769 


apayed  of  rested  flesh  and  sode  flesh, 
with  which  the  peple  fedden  hem  in 
greet  reverence,  but  they  wole  liave 
raw  flesh  of  folkes  wyves  and  hir 
doghtres./  And  certes,  thise  wom- 
men  that  consenten  to  hir  harlotrie 
doon  greet  wrong  to  Crist  and  to 
holy  chirche  and  alle  halwes,  and  to 
allesoules;  for  they  bireven  alle  thise 
him  that  sholde  worshipe  Crist  and 
holy  chirche,  and  preye  for  cristene 
soules./  And  therfore  han  swiche 
preestes,  and  hir  lemmanes  eek  that 
consenten  to  hir  lecherie,  the  mali- 
soun  of  al  the  court  cristen,  til  they 
come  to  amendement.  /  The  thridde 
spece  of  avoutrie  is  som-tyme  bitwixe 
a  man  and  his  wyf;  and  that  is  whan 
they  take  no  reward  in  hir  assem- 
blinge,  but  only  to  hire  fleshly  delyt,  as 
seith  seint  lerome;  /  and  ne  rekken 
of  no-thing  but  that  they  been  assem- 
bled ;  by-cause  that  they  been  maried, 
al    is   good    y-nough,  as   thinketh  to 

905  hem.  /  But  in  swich  folk  hath  the 
devel  power,  as  seyde  the  aungel 
Raphael  to  Thobie;  for  in  hir  assem- 
blinge  they  putten  lesu  Crist  out  of 
hir  herte,  and  yeven  hem-self  to  alle 
ordure./  The  fourthe  spece  is,  the 
assembiee  of  hem  that  been  of  hire 
kinrede,  or  of  hem  that  been  of  oon 
affinitee,  or  elles  with  hem  with  whiche 
hir  fadres  or  hir  kinrede  han  deled 
in  the  sinne  of  lecherie;  this  sinne 
maketh  hem  lyk  to  houndes,  that 
taken  no  kepe  to  kinrede.  /  And 
certes,  parentele  is  in  two  maneres, 
6uther  goostly  or  fleshly;  goostly,  as 
for  to  delen  with  hise  godsibbes./ 
For  right  so  as  he  that  engendreth  a 
child  is  his  fleshly  fader,  right  so  is 
his  godfader  his  fader  espirituel. 
For  which  a  womman  may  in  no 
lasse  sinne  assemblen  with  hir  god- 
sib  than  with  hir  owene  fleshly 
brother.  /  The  fifthe  spece  is  thilke 
abhominable  sinne,  of  which  that 
no  man  unnethe  oghte  speke  ne 
wryte,  nathelees  it  is  ojienly  reherced 

910  in  holy  writ.  /  This  cursednesse  doon 
men  and  wommen  in  diverse  entente 
and  in  diverse  manere;    but    though 

3D 


that  holy  writ  speke  of  horrible  sinne, 
certes,  holy  writ  may  not  l)een  de- 
fouled,  na-more  than  the  sonne  that 
shyneth  on  the  mixen./  Another 
sinne  aperteneth  to  lecherie,  that 
comth  in  slepinge;  and  this  sinne 
Cometh  ofte  to  hem  that  been  mayd- 
enes,  and  eek  to  hem  that  l)een 
corrupt;  and  this  sinne  men  clepen 
pollucioun,  that  comth  in  foure 
maneres./  Somtyme,  of  languissinge 
of  body;  for  the  humours  been  to 
ranke  and  habundaunt  in  the  body  uf 
man.  Somtyme  of  infermetee;  for 
the  feblesse  of  the  vertu  retentif,  as 
phisik  maketh  mencioun.  Som-tyme, 
for  surfeet  of  mete  and  drinke.  / 
And  somtyme  of  vileyns  thoghtes, 
that  been  enclosed  in  mannes  minde 
whan  he  goth  to  slepe;  which  may 
nat  been  with-oute  sinne.  For  which 
men  moste  kepen  hem  wysely,  or 
elles  may  men  sinnen  ful  grevously.  / 

Remediuin  contra  peccatum  Luxurie. 

§  77.  Now  comth  the  remedie 
agayns  Lecherie,  and  that  is,  gener- 
ally, Chastitee  and  Continence,  that 
restreyneth  alle  the  desordeynee 
moevinges  that  comen  of  fleshly  tal- 
entes.  /  And  evere  the  gretter  merite9i5 
shal  he  han,  that  most  restreyneth  the 
wikkede  eschaufinges  of  the  ordure 
of  this  sinne.  And  this  is  in  two 
maneres,  that  is  to  seyn,  chastitee  in 
.  mariage,  and  chastitee  of  w-idwe- 
hode.  /  Now  shaltow  understonde, 
that  matrimoine  is  leefful  assemblinge 
of  man  and  of  womman,  that  receyven 
by  vertu  of  the  sacrement  the  bond, 
thurgh  which  they  may  nat  be  de- 
parted in  al  hir  lyf,  that  is  to  seyn, 
whyl  that  they  liven  bothe.  /  This, 
as  seith  the  book,  is  a  ful  greet  sacre- 
ment. Ciod  maked  it,  as  I  have  seyd, 
in  paradys,  and  wolde  him-self  be 
born  in  mariage.  /  And  for  to  hal- 
wen  mariage,  he  was  at  a  weddinge, 
where-as  he  turned  water  in-to  wyn; 
which  was  the  firste  miracle  that  he 
wroghte  in  erthe  biforn  hise  disci- 
ples. /      Trewe    effect    of    mariage 


770 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[920-939. 


clenseth  fornicacioun  and  replenisseth 
holy  chirche  of  good  linage;  for  that 
is  the  ende  of  mariage ;  and  it  chaung- 
eth  deedly  sinne  in-to  venial  sinne 
bitwixe  hem  that  been  y-wedded,  and 
niaketh  the  hertes  al  oon  of  hem  that 

920  been  y-wedded,  as  wel  as  the  bodies.  / 
This  is  verray  mariage,  that  was  estab- 
lissed  by  god  cr  that  sinne  bigan, 
whan  naturel  lawe  was  in  his  right 
point  in  paradys;  an  dit  was  ordyned 
that  o  man  sholde  have  but  o  wom- 
man,  and  o  womman  but  o  man,  as 
seith  Seint  Augustin,  by  manye  re- 
souns.  / 

§  78.  First,  for  mariage  is  figured 
bitwixe  Crist  and  holy  chirche.  And 
that  other  is,  for  a  man  is  heved  of  a 
womman;  algate,  by  ordinaunce  it 
sholde  be  so.  /  For  if  a  womman 
had  mo  men  than  oon,  thanne  sholde 
she  have  mo  hevedes  than  oon,  and 
that  were  an  horrible  thing  biforn 
god ;  and  eek  a  womman  ne  mighte 
nat  plese  to  many  folk  at  ones.  And 
also  ther  ne  sholde  nevere  be  pees 
ne  reste  amonges  hem;  for  everich 
wolde  axen  his  ovvene  thing.  /  And 
forther-over,  no  man  ne  sholde  knowe 
his  ovvene  engendrure,  ne  who  sholde 
have  his  heritage;  and  the  womman 
sholde  been  the  lasse  biloved,  fro  the 
time  that  she  were  conioynt  to  many 
men.  / 

§  79.  Now  comth,  how  that  a  man 
sholde  bere  him  with  his  wyf;  and 
namely,  in  two  thinges,  that  is  to  seyn 
in  suffraunce  and  reverence,  as  shewed 

925  Crist  whan  he  made  first  womman.  / 
P'or  he  ne  made  hir  nat  of  the  heved  of 
Adam,  for  she  sholde  nat  clayme  to 
greet  lordshipe.  /  For  ther-as  the 
womman  hath  the  maistrie,  she  mak- 
eth  to  muche  desray;  ther  neden 
none  ensamples  of  this.  The  expe- 
rience of  day  by  day  oghte  suffyse.  / 
Also  certes,  god  ne  made  nat  wom- 
man of  the  foot  of  Adam,  for  she  ne 
sholde  nat  been  holden  to  lovve;  for 
she  can  nat  pacintly  suffre :  but  god 
made  womman  of  the  rib  of  Adam, 
for  womman  sholde  be  felawe  un-to 
man.  /     Man  sholde  bere  him  to  his 


wyf  in  feith,  in  trouthe,  and  in  love, 
as  seith  seint  Paul :  that  '  a  man 
sholde  loven  his  wyf  as  Crist  loved 
holy  chirche,  that  loved  it  so  wel  that 
he  deyde  for  it.'  So  sholde  a  man  for 
his  wyf,  if  it  were  nede.  / 

§  80.  Now  how  that  a  womman 
sholde  be  subget  to  hir  housbonde, 
that  telleth  seint  Peter.  First,  in  obe- 
dience. /  And  eek,  as  seith  the  de-  930 
cree,  a  womman  that  is  a  wyf,  as 
longe  as  she  is  a  wyf,  she  hath  noon 
auctoritee  to  swere  ne  bere  witnesse 
with-oute  leve  of  hir  housbonde,  that 
is  hir  lord  ;  algate,  he  sholde  be  so  by 
resoun.  /  She  sholde  eek  serven  him 
in  alle  honestee,  and  been  attempree 
of  hir  array.  I  wot  wel  that  they 
sholde  setten  hir  entente  to  plesen  hir 
housbondes,  but  nat  by  hir  queyntise 
of  array.  /  Seint  lerome  seith,  that 
wyves  that  been  apparailled  in  silk 
and  in  precious  purpre  ne  mowe  nat 
clothen  hem  in  lesu  Crist.  What 
seith  seint  lohn  eek  in  this  matere?/ 
Seint  Gregorie  eek  seith,  that  no  wight 
seketh  precious  array  but  only  for 
veyne  glorie,  to  been  honoured  the 
more  biforn  the  peple.  /  It  is  a 
greet  folye,  a  womman  to  have  a  fair 
array  outward  and  in  hir-self  be  foul 
inward.  /  A  wyf  sholde  eek  be  mes-  935 
urable  in  lokinge  and  in  beringe  and 
in  laughinge,  and  discreet  in  alle  hir 
wordes  and  hir  dedes.  /  And  aboven 
alle  worldly  thing  she  sholde  loven  hir 
housbonde  with  al  hir  herte,  and  to 
him  be  trewe  of  hir  body;  /  so  sholde 
an  housbonde  eek  be  to  his  wyf.  For 
sith  that  al  the  body  is  the  housbondes, 
so  sholde  hir  herte  been,  or  elles  ther 
is  bitwixe  hem  two,  as  in  that,  no  par- 
fit  mariage.  /  Thanne  shal  men  un- 
derstonde  that  for  three  thinges  a  man 
and  his  wyf  fleshly  mowen  assemble. 
The  firste  is  in  entente  of  engendrure 
of  children  to  the  service  of  god,  for 
certes  that  is  the  cause  fynal  of  matri- 
moine.  /  Another  cause  is,  to  yelden 
everich  of  hem  to  other  the  dette  of 
hir  bodies,  for  neither  of  hem  hath 
power  over  his  owene  body.  The 
thridde   is,  for  to    eschewe   lecherye 


940-960.  ] 


I.     THE   TERSONES   TALE. 


771 


and  vilcinye.  The  ferthe  is  for  sothe 
940  (lecdly  sinne.  /  As  to  the  (irste,  it  is 
nieritorie;  the  secoiule  also;  for,  as 
seith  the  decree,  that  she  hatli  luerite 
of  chastitee  that  yeldeth  to  hir  hous- 
bonde  the  dette  of  hir  body,  ye,  though 
it  be  agayn  hir  lykinge  and  the  lust  of 
hir  herte.  /  The  thridde  niaiicre  is 
venial  sinne,  and  trewely  scarsly  may 
ther  any  of  thise  be  witli-oute  venial 
sinne,  for  the  corrupcion  and  for  the 
delyt.  /  The  fourthe  manere  is  for  to 
understonde,  if  they  assemble  only  for 
amorous  love  and  for  noon  of  the  for- 
seyde  causes,  but  for  to  accomplice 
thilke  brenninge  delyt,  they  rekke 
nevere  how  ofte,  sothly  it  is  deedly 
sinne;  and  yet,  with  sorwe,  somme 
folk  wol  peynen  hem  more  to  doon 
than  to  hir  appetyt  suffyseth.  / 

§  Si.  The  seconde  manere  of  chas- 
titee is  for  to  been  a  clene  vvidewe,  and 
eschue  the  embracinges  of  man,  and 
desyren  the  embracinge  of  lesu  Crist./ 
Thise  been  tho  that  han  been  wyves 
and  han  forgoon  hir  housbondes, 
and  eek  wommen  that  han  doon  le- 
cherie  and  been  releeved  by  Peni- 
945  tence.  /  And  certes,  if  that  a  wyf 
coude  kepen  hir  al  chaast  by  licence 
of  hir  housbonde,  so  that  she  yeve 
nevere  noon  occasion  that  he  agilte, 
it  were  to  hire  a  greet  merite.  / 
Thise  manere  wommen  that  observen 
chastitee  moste  be  clene  in  herte  as 
well  as  in  body  and  in  thoght,  and 
niesurable  in  clothinge  and  in  conte- 
naunce;  and  been  abstinent  in  etinge 
and  drinkinge,  in  spekinge,  and  in 
dede.  They  been  the  vessel  or  the 
boyste  of  the  blissed  Magdelene,  that 
fulfdleth  holy  chircheof  good  odour./ 
The  thridde  manere  of  chastitee  is  vir- 
ginitee,  and  it  bihoveth  that  she  bo 
holy  in  herte  and  clene  of  body; 
thanne  is  she  spouse  to  lesu  Crist, 
and  she  is  the  lyf  of  angeles.  /  She 
is  the  preisinge  of  this  world,  and  she 
is  as  thise  martirs  in  egalitee;  she 
hath  in  hir  that  tonge  may  nat  telle 
ne  herte  thinke.  /  Virginitee  baar 
oure  lord  lesu  Crist,  and  virgine  was 
950  him-selve.  / 


§  82.  Another  remedie  agayns 
Lecherie  is,  specially  to  withdrawen 
swiche  thinges  as  yeve  occasion  to 
thilke  vileinye;  as  ese,  etinge  and 
drinkinge;  for  certes,  whan  the  i>ot 
boyleth  strongly,  the  beste  remedie  is 
to  withdrawe  the  fyr.  /  Slepinge 
longe  in  greet  (]uiete  is  eek  a  greet 
norice  to  Lecherie./ 

§  S3.  Another  remedie  agayns 
Lecherie  is,  that  a  man  or  a  wom- 
man  eschue  the  companye  of  hem  by 
whiche  he  dcmteth  to  be  tempted; 
for  al-be-it  so  that  the  dede  is  with- 
stonden,  yet  is  ther  greet  temp- 
tacioun.  /  Soothly  a  whyt  wal, 
al-though  it  ne  brenne  noght  fully 
by  stikinge  of  a  candelc,  yet  is  the 
wal  blak  of  the  leyt.  /  Ful  ofte  tyme 
I  rede,  that  no  man  truste  in  his 
owene  perfeccioun,  but  he  be  stronger 
than  Sampson,  and  holier  than  David, 
and  wyser  than  Salomon.  /  955 

§  84.  Now  after  that  I  have  de- 
clared yow,  as  I  can,  the  sevene 
deedly  sinnes,  and  somme  of  hir 
braunches  and  hir  remedies,  soothly, 
if  I  coude,  I  wolde  telle  yow  the  ten 
comandements.  /  But  so  heigh  a 
doctrine  I  lete  to  divines.  Xathelees, 
I  hope  to  god  they  been  touched  in 
this  tretice,  evcrich  of  hem  alle.  / 

De  Confessione. 

§  85.  Now  for-as-muche  as  the 
second  partie  of  Penitence  stant  in 
Confessioun  of  mouth,  as  I  bigan  in 
the  firste  chapitre,  I  seye,  seint  ,\u- 
gustin  seith :  /  sinne  is  every  word 
and  every  dede,  and  al  that  men  cov- 
eiten  agayn  the  lawe  of  lesu  Crist; 
and  this  is  for  to  sinne  in  herte,  in 
mouth,  and  in  dede,  by  thy  fyve  wittes, 
that  been  sighte,  heringe,  smell inge, 
tastinge  or  savouringe,  and  felinge.  / 
Now  is  it  good  to  understonde  that 
that  agreggeth  muchel  every  sinne.  /  </'0 
Thou  shalt  considere  what  thou  art 
that  doost  the  sinne,  whether  thou  be 
male  or  femele,  yong  or  olrl,  gentil 
or  tlual,  free  or  servant,  hool  or  syk, 
wedded  or  sengle,  ordred  or  unordred, 


772 


THE   CANTERBURY   TAT.ES. 


[961-982 


wys  or  fool,  clerk  or  seculer;  /  if  she 
be  of  thy  kinrede,  bodily  or  goostiy, 
or  noon;  if  any  of  thy  kinrede  have 
sinned  with  hir  or  noon,  and  manye 
mo  thinges.  / 

§  86.  Another  circumstaunce  is 
this;  whether  it  be  doon  in  fornica- 
cioun,  or  in  avoutrie,  or  noon;  incest, 
or  noon;  niayden,  or  noon;  in  man- 
ere  of  homicyde,  or  noon;  horrible 
grete  sinnes,  or  smale;  and  how 
longe  thou  hast  continued  in  sinne.  / 
The  thridde  circumstaunce  is  the 
place  ther  thou  hast  do  sinne; 
whether  in  other  mennes  hous  or  in 
thyn  owene;  in  feeld  or  in  chirche, 
or  in  chirche-hawe;  in  chirche  dedi- 
cat,  or  noon.  /  For  if  the  chirche  be 
halwed,  and  man  or  womman  spille 
his  kinde  inwith  that  place  by  wey  of 
sinne,  or  by  wikked  temptacion,  the 
chirche  is  entredited  til  it  be  recon- 

965  ciled  by  the  bishop;  /  and  the  preest 
that  dide  swich  a  vileinye,  to  terme 
of  al  his  lyf,  he  sholde  na-more  singe 
masse;  and  if  he  dide,  he  sholde 
doon  decdly  sinne  at  every  tyme  that 
he  so  songe  masse.  /  The  fourthe 
circumstaunce  is,  by  whiche  media- 
tours  or  by  whiche  messagers,  as  for 
entycement,  or  for  consentement  to 
here  companye  with  felaweshipe;  for 
many  a  wrecche,  for  to  here  com- 
panye, wil  go  to  the  devel  of  helle.  / 
Wher-fore  they  that  eggen  or  con- 
senten  to  the  sinne  been  parteners  of 
the  sinne,  and  of  the  dampnacioun  of 
the  sinner.  /  The  fifthe  circum- 
staunce is,  how  manye  tymes  that  he 
hath  sinned,  if  it  be  in  his  minde,  and 
how  ofte  that  he  hath  falle.  /  For 
he  that  ofte  falleth  in  sinne,  he  de- 
spiseth  the  mercy  of  god,  and  en- 
creesseth  his  sinne,  and  is  unkinde  to 
Crist;  and  he  wexeth  the  more  feble 
to  withstonde  sinne,  and  sinneth  the 

970  more  lightly,  /  and  the  latter  aryseth, 
and  is  the  more  eschew  for  to  shryven 
him,  namely,  to  him  that  is  his  con- 
fessour.  /  For  which  that  folk,  whan 
they  falle  agayn  in  hir  olde  folies, 
outher  they  forleten  hir  olde  confes- 
sours  al  outrely,  or  elles  they  departen 


hir  shrift  in  diverse  places ;  l^ut 
soothly,  swich  departed  shrift  deserv- 
eth  no  mercy  of  god  of  hise  sinnes.  / 
The  sixte  circumstaunce  is,  why  that 
a  man  sinneth,  as  by  whiche  tempta- 
cioun;  and  if  him-self  procure  thilke 
temptacioun,  or  by  the  excytinge  of 
other  folk;  or  if  he  sinne  v^'ith  a 
womman  by  force,  or  by  hir  owene 
assent;  /  or  if  the  womman,  maugree 
hir  heed,  hath  been  afforced,  or  noon; 
this  shal  she  telle;  for  coveitise,  or 
for  poverte,  and  if  it  was  hir  procur- 
inge,  or  noon;  and  swiche  manere 
barneys.  /  The  seventhe  circum- 
staunce is,  in  what  manere  he  hath 
doon  his  sinne,  or  how  that  she  hath 
suffred  that  folk  ban  doon  to  hir.  /  975 
And  the  same  shal  the  man  telle 
pleynly,  with  alle  circumstaunces; 
and  whether  he  hath  sinned  with 
comune  bordel-wommen,  or  noon;  / 
or  doon  his  sinne  in  holy  tymes,  or 
noon;  in  fasting-tymes,  or  noon;  or 
biforn  his  shrifte,  or  after  his  latter 
shrifte;  /  and  hath,  per-aventure, 
broken  ther-fore  his  penance  en- 
ioyned;  by  whos  help  and  whos  con- 
seil;  by  sorcerie  or  craft;  al  moste 
be  told.  /  Alle  thise  thinges,  after 
that  they  been  grete  or  smale,  en- 
greggen  the  conscience  of  man.  And 
eek  the  preest  that  is  thy  luge,  may 
the  bettre  been  avysed  of  his  luge- 
ment  in  yevinge  of  thy  penaunce,  and 
that  is  after  thy  contricioun.  /  For 
understond  wel,  that  after  tyme  that 
a  man  hath  defouled  his  baptesme  by 
sinne,  if  he  wole  come  to  salvacioun, 
ther  is  noon  other  wey  but  liy  peni- 
tence and  shrifte  and  satisfaccioun;  /  qSo 
and  namely  by  the  two,  if  ther  be  a 
confessour  to  which  he  may  shryven 
him;  and  the  thridde,  if  he  have  lyf 
to  parfournen  it.  / 

§  87.  Thanne  shal  man  looke  and 
considere,  that  if  he  wole  maken  a 
trewe  and  a  profitable  confessioun, 
ther  moste  be  foure  condiciouns.  / 
First,  it  moot  been  in  sorweful  bitter- 
nesse  of  herte,  as  seyde  the  king 
Ezekias  to  god  :  '  I  wol  remembre  me 
alle  the  yeres  of  my  lyf  in  bitternesse 


983-1003.] 


I.     11  IK    I'KKSONES   TALE. 


773 


of  inyn  herte.'  /  This  condicioun  of 
l)ittcrncssc'  hath  fvye  sijjnes.  The 
firste  is,  that  confcssioun  iiioste  1)0 
shamcfast,  iiat  for  to  covcre  ne  hydcn 
his  sinne,  for  he  hath  agilt  his  god 
and  defouled  his  soule.  /  And  her- 
of  seith  seint  Augustin  :  '  the  herte 
travailleth  for  shame  of  his  sinne'; 
and  for  he  hath  greet  shamefastnesse, 
he  is  digne  to   have  greet  mercy  of 

985  god.  /  .Swich  was  the  confession  of 
the  publican,  that  wolde  nat  heven 
up  hise  eyen  to  hevene,  for  he  hadde 
offended  god  of  hevene;  for  which 
shamefastnesse  he  hadde  anon  the 
mercy  of  god.  /  And  ther-of  seith 
seint  Augustin,  that  swich  shamefast 
folk  been  next  foryevenesse  and  re- 
missioun.  /  Another  signe  is  humil- 
itee  in  confessioun;  of  which  seith 
seint  Peter,  '  Humbleth  yow  under  the 
might  of  god.'  The  hond  of  god  is 
mighty  in  confession,  for  ther-by  god 
foryeveth  thee  thy  sinnes;  for  he  al- 
lone  hath  the  power.  /  And  this  hu- 
militee  shal  been  in  herte,  and  in  signe 
outward;  for  right  as  he  hath  humili- 
tee  to  god  in  his  herte,  right  so  sholde 
he  humble  his  body  outward  to  the 
preest  that  sit  in  goddes  place.  / 
For  which  in  no  manere,  sith  that 
Crist  is  sovereyn  and  the  preest 
mene  and  mediatour  bitwixe  Crist 
and  the  sinnere,  and  the  sinnere  is 

990  the  laste  by  wey  of  resoun,  /  thanne 
sholde  nat  the  sinnere  sitte  as  heighe 
as  his  confessour,  but  knele  biforn 
him  or  at  his  feet,  but-if  maladie 
destourbe  it.  For  he  shal  nat  taken 
kepe  who  sit  there,  but  in  whos 
place  that  he  sitteth.  /  A  man 
that  hath  trespased  to  a  lord,  and 
comth  for  to  axe  mercy  and  maken 
his  accord,  and  set  him  doun  anon 
by  the  lord,  men  wolde  holden  him 
outrageous,  and  nat  worthy  so  sone 
for  to  have  remissioun  ne  mercy.  / 
The  thridde  signe  is,  how  that  thy 
shrift  sholde  be  ful  of  teres,  if  man 
may;  and  if  man  may  nat  wepe 
with  hise  bodily  eyen,  lat  him  wepe 
in  herte.  /  Swich  was  the  confes- 
sion of  seint  Peter;    for  after  that  he 


hadde  forsake  lesu  Crist,  he  wente 
out  and  weej)  ful  bitterly.  /  The 
fourthe  signe  is,  tliat  he  ne  lette  nat 
for  shame  to  siiewen  iiis  confes- 
sioun. /  Swich  was  the  confessioun  995 
of  the  Magdelene,  that  ne  spared, 
for  no  shame  of  hem  that  weren 
atte  feste,  for  to  go  to  oure  lord 
lesu  Crist  and  biknowe  to  him  hir 
sinnes.  /  The  fifthe  signe  is,  that 
a  man  or  a  womman  be  obeisant  to 
receyven  the  penaunce  that  him  is 
enioyned  for  hise  sinnes;  for  certes 
lesu  Crist,  for  the  giltes  of  a  man, 
was  obedient  to  the  deeth.  / 

§  SS.  The  seconde  condicion  of 
verray  confession  is,  that  it  be 
hastily  doon;  for  certes,  if  a  man 
hadde  a  decdly  wounde,  evere  the 
lenger  that  he  taried  to  warisshe 
him-self,  the  more  wolde  it  corrupte 
and  haste  him  to  his  deeth;  and 
eek  the  wounde  wolde  be  the  svors 
for  to  hele.  /  And  right  so  fareth 
sinne,  that  longe  tyme  is  in  a  man 
unshewed.  /  Certes,  a  man  oghte 
hastily  shewen  hise  sinnes  for  manye 
causes;  as  for  drede  of  deeth,  that 
cometh  ofte  sodenly,  and  is  in  no 
certeyn  what  tyme  it  shal  be,  ne  in 
what  place;  and  eek  the  drecchinge 
of  o  synne  draweth  in  another;  /  1000 
and  eek  the  lenger  that  he  tarieth, 
the  ferther  he  is  fro  Crist.  And  if 
he  abyde  to  his  laste  day,  scarsly 
may  he  shryven  him  or  remembre 
him  of  hise  sinnes,  or  repenten  him, 
for  the  grevous  maladie  of  his 
deeth.  /  And  for-as-muche  as  he 
ne  hath  nat  in  his  lyf  herkned  lesu 
Crist,  whanne  he  hath  spoken,  he 
shal  crye  to  lesu  Crist  at  his  laste 
day,  and  scarsly  wol  he  herkne 
him.  /  And  understond  that  this 
condicioun  mostc  han  foure  tliinges. 
Thy  shrift  muste  be  purveyed  bifore 
andavysed;  for  wikked  haste  doth 
no  profit;  and  that  a  man  conne 
shryve  him  of  hise  sinnes,  be  it  of 
pryde,  or  of  envye,  and  so  forth  of 
the  speces  and  circumstances;  /  and 
that  he  have  comprcliended  in  his 
minde  the  nonibre  and  the  greetnesse 


774 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1004-1022, 


of  hise  sinnes,  and  how  longe  that 
he  hath  leyn  in  sinne;  /and  eek 
that  he  be  contrit  of  hise  sinnes, 
and  in  stedefast  purpos,  by  the 
grace  of  god,  nevere  eft  to  falle  in 
sinne;  and  eek  that  he  drede  and 
countrewaite  him-self,  that  he  flee 
the  occasiouns  of  sinne  to  whiche 

1005  he  is  enclyned.  /  Also  thou  shalt 
shryve  thee  of  alle  thy  sinnes  to  o 
man,  and  nat  a  parcel  to  o  man  and  a 
parcel  to  another;  that  is  to  under- 
stonde,  in  entente  to  departe  thy  con- 
fessioun  as  for  shame  or  drede;  for 
it  nis  but  stranglinge  of  thy  soule.  / 
For  certes,  lesu  Crist  is  entierly  al 
good;  in  him  nis  noon  inperfec- 
cioun;  and  therfore  outlier  he  for- 
yeveth  al  parfitly  or  never  a  deel.  / 
I  seye  nat  that  if  thou  be  assigned 
to  the  penitauncer  for  certein  sinne, 
that  thou  art  bounde  to  shewen  him 
al  the  remenaunt  of  thy  sinnes,  of 
whiche  thou  hast  be  shriven  to  thy 
curat,  but-if  it  lyke  to  thee  of  thyn 
humilitee;  this  is  no  departinge  of 
shrifte.  /  Ne  I  seye  nat,  ther-as  I 
speke  of  divisioun  of  confessioun, 
that  if  thou  have  lycence  for  to 
shryve  thee  to  a  discreet  and  an 
honeste  preest,  where  thee  lyketh, 
and  by  lycence  of  thy  curat,  that 
thou  ne  mayst  wel  shryve  thee  to 
him  of  alle  thy  sinnes.  /  But  lat  no 
blotte  be  bihinde;  lat  no  sinne  been 
untold,  as  fer  as  thou  hast  remem- 

loio  braunce.  /  And  whan  thou  shalt 
be  shriven  to  thy  curat,  telle  him 
eek  alle  the  sinnes  that  thou  hast 
doon  sin  thou  were  last  y-shriven; 
this  is  no  wikked  entente  of  divi- 
sioun of  shrifte.  / 

§  89.  Also  the  verray  shrifte  axeth 
certeine  condiciouns.  First,  that 
thou  shryve  thee  by  thy  free  wil, 
noght  constreyned,  ne  for  shame  of 
folk,  ne  for  maladie,  ne  swiche 
thinges;  for  it  is  resoun  that  he 
that  trespasseth  by  his  free  wil,  that 
by  his  free  wil  he  confesse  his  tres- 
pas;  /  and  that  noon  other  man 
telle  his  sinne  but  he  him-self,  ne  he 
shal  nat  nayte  ne  denye  his  sinne, 


ne  wratthe  him  agayn  the  preest  for 
his  amonestinge  to  leve  siiMie.  / 
The  seconde  condicioun  is,  that  thy 
shrift  be  laweful;  that  is  to  seyn, 
that  thou  that  shryvest  thee,  and 
eek  the  preest  that  hereth  thy  con- 
fessioun, been  verraily  in  the  feith 
of  holy  chirche;  /  and  that  a  man 
ne  be  nat  despeired  of  the  mercy 
of  lesu  Crist,  as  Caym  or  ludas.  /  1015 
And  eek  a  man  moot  accusen  him- 
self of  his  owene  trespas,  and  nat 
another;  but  he  shal  blame  and 
wyten  him-self  and  his  owene 
malice  of  his  sinne,  and  noon 
other;  /  but  nathelees,  if  that 
another  man  be  occasioun  or  en- 
tycer  of  his  sinne,  or  the  estaat 
of  a  persone  be  swich  thurgh  which 
his  sinne  is  agregged,  or  elles  that 
he  may  nat  pleynly  shryven  him 
but  he  telle  the  persone  with  which 
he  hath  sinned;  thanne  may  he 
telle ;  /  so  that  his  entente  ne  be  nat 
to  bakbyte  the  persone,  but  only  to 
declaren  his  confessioun.  / 

§  90.  Thou  ne  shalt  nat  eek  make 
no  lesinges  in  thy  confessioun;  for 
humilitee,  per-aventure,  to  seyn  that 
thou  hast  doon  sinnes  of  whiche  that 
thou  were  nevere  gilty.  /  For  Seint 
Augustin  seith  :  if  thou,  by  cause  of 
thyn  humilitee,  makest  lesinges  on 
thy-self,  though  thou  ne  were  nat 
in  sinne  biforn,  yet  artow  thanne  in 
sinne  thurgh  thy  lesinges.  /  Thou  1020 
most  eek  shewe  thy  sinne  liy  thyn 
owene  propre  mouth,  but  thou  be 
wexe  doumb,  and  nat  by  no  lettre; 
for  thou  that  hast  doon  the  sinne, 
thou  shalt  have  the  shame  ther- 
fore. /  Thou  shalt  nat  eek  peynte 
thy  confessioun  by  faire  subtile 
wordes,  to  covere  the  more  thy 
sinne;  for  thanne  bigylestow  thy- 
self and  nat  the  preest;  thou  most 
tellen  it  pleynly,  be  it  nevere  so 
foul  ne  so  horrible./  Thou  shalt 
eek  shryve  thee  to  a  preest  that  is 
discreet  to  conseille  thee,  and  eek 
thou  shalt  nat  shryve  thee  for  veyne 
glorie,  ne  for  ypocrisye,  ne  for  no 
cause,  but   only  for   the    doute    of 


1023-1042.] 


I.     THE   TERSONES  TALE. 


775 


lesu Crist  and  the  hde  of  thy  soulc  / 
Thou  shalt  nat  eek  renne  to  the 
precst  sodeynly,  to  tellen  him  lightly 
thy  sinnc,  as  who-so  tcUeth  a  lape 
or  a  tale,  but  avysely  and  with  greet 
devocioun.  /  And  generally,  shryve 
thee  ufte.  If  thou  ofte  falle,  ofte 
1025  thou  aryse  by  confessioun.  /  And 
thogh  thou  shryve  thee  ofter  than 
ones  of  sinne,  of  which  thou  hast 
be  shriven,  it  is  the  more  merite. 
And,  as  seith  seint  Augustin,  thou 
shait  have  the  more  lightly  relesing 
and  grace  of  god,  bothe  of  sinne 
and  of  peyne.  /  And  certes,  ones 
a  yere  atte  leeste  wey  it  is  laweful 
for  to  been  housled;  for  certes  ones 
a  yere  alle  thinges  renovellen.  / 

Explicit  secunda  pars  Penitencie ," 
et  scqtiittir  tercia  pars  eiusdem,  de 
Satisjaccione. 

§  91.  Now  have  I  told  you  of 
vejrray  Confessioun,  that  is  the  sec- 
onde  partie  of  Penitence.  / 

The  thridde  partie  of  Penitence 
is  Satisfaccioun;  and  that  slant 
most  generally  in  almesse  and  in 
bodily  peyne.  /  Now  been  ther 
three  manere  of  almesses;  contri- 
cion  of  herte,  where  a  man  offreth 
himself  to  god;  another  is,  to  han 
pitee  of  defaute  of  hise  neighebores; 
and  the  thridde  is,  in  yevinge  of 
good  conseil  goostly  and  bodily, 
where  men  han  nede,  and  namely 
1030  in  sustenaunce  of  mannes  fode.  / 
And  tak  keep,  that  a  man  hath 
need  of  thise  thinges  generally;  he 
hath  need  of  fode,  he  hath  nede  of 
clothing,  and  herberwe,  he  hath 
nede  of  charitable  conseil,  and 
visitinge  in  prisone  and  in  maladie, 
and  sepulture  of  his  dede  body.  / 
And  if  thou  mayst  nat  visite  the 
nedeful  with  thy  persone,  visite  him 
by  thy  message  and  by  thy  yiftes.  / 
Thise  been  generally  almesses  or 
werkes  of  charitee  of  hem  that  han 
temporel  richesses  or  discrecioun  in 
conseilinge.  Of  thise  werkes  shal- 
low heren  at  the  day  of  dome.  / 


§  92.  Thise  almesses  shaltow 
doon  of  thyne  owene  propre  thinges, 
and  hastily,  and  prively  if  thoU 
mayst;  /  but  tiathelees,  if  thou 
mayst  nat  doon  it  prively,  thou  shalt 
nat  forbere  to  doon  almesse  though 
men  seen  it;  so  that  it  be  nat 
doon  for  thank  of  the  world 
but  only  for  thank  of  lesu 
Crist.  /  For  as  witnesseth  Seint  1035 
Mathew,  capitulo  quinto,  '  A  citee 
may  nat  been  hid  that  is  set  on  a 
niontoyne;  ne  men  lighte  nat  a 
lanterne  and  put  it  under  a  busshel; 
but  men  sette  it  on  a  candle-stikke, 
to  yeve  light  to  the  men  in  the 
hous.  /  Right  so  shal  youre  light 
lighten  bifore  men,  that  they  may 
seen  youre  gode  werkes,  and  glorilie 
youre  fatler  that  is  in  hevene.'  / 

§  93.  Now  as  to  speken  of  bodily 
peyne,  it  stant  in  preyeres,  in  wak- 
inges,  in  fastinges,  in  vertuouse 
techinges  of  orisouns.  /  And  ye 
shul  uuderstonde,  that  orisouns  or 
preyeres  is  for  to  seyn  a  pilous  wil 
of  herte,  that  redresseth  it  in  god 
and  expresseth  it  by  word  outward, 
to  remoeven  harmes  and  to  han 
thinges  espirituel  and  durable,  and 
somtyme  temporel  thinges;  of 
whiche  orisouns,  certes,  in  the 
orisoun  of  the  Pater-nosler,  hath 
lesu  Crist  enclosed  most  thinges.  / 
Certes,  it  is  privileged  of  three 
thinges  in  his  dignitee,  for  which  it 
is  more  digne  than  any  other 
preyere;  for  that  lesu  Crist  him- 
self niaked  it;  /  and  it  is  short,  for  1040 
it  sholde  be  coud  the  more  lightly, 
and  for  to  withholden  it  the  more 
esily  in  herte,  and  helpen  him-self 
the  ofter  with  the  orisoun;  /  and 
for  a  man  sholde  be  the  lasse  wery 
to  seyen  it,  and  for  a  man  may  nat 
excusen  him  to  lerne  it,  it  is  so 
short  and  so  esy;  and  for  it  com- 
prehendeth  in  it-self  alle  gode 
preyeres.  /  The  exposicioun  of 
this  holy  preyere,  that  is  so  excel- 
lent and  digne,  I  bitake  to  thise 
maistres  of  theologie;  save  thus 
muchel  wol  1  seyn :  that,  whan  thou 


776 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[1043-1062. 


prayest  that  god  sholde  foryeve  thee 
thy  giltes  as  thou  foryevest  hem 
that  agilten  to  thee,  be  ful  wel  war 
that  thou  be  nat  out  of  charitee./ 
This  holy  orisoun  amenuseth  eek 
venial  sinne;  and  therfore  it  aper- 
teneth  specially  to  penitence./ 

§  94.  This  preyere  moste  be 
trewely  seyd  and  in  verray  feith,  and 
that  men  preye  to  god  ordinatly  and 
discreetly  and  devoutly;  and  alwey  a 
man  shal  putten  his  wil  to  be  subget 
1045  to  the  wille  of  god.  /  This  orisoun 
moste  eek  been  seyd  with  greet  hum- 
blesse  and  ful  pure ;  honestly,  and  nat 
totheanoyaunceof  any  manor  wom- 
man.  It  moste  eek  been  continued 
with  the  werkes  of  charitee.  /  It 
avayleth  eek  agayn  the  vyces  of  the 
soule;  for,  as  seith  seint  lerome, 
'  By  fastinge  been  saved  the  vyces 
of  the  flesh,  and  by  preyere  the 
vyces  of  the  soule.'/ 

§  95.  After  this,  thou  shalt  un- 
derstonde,  that  bodily  peyne  stant 
in  wakinge;  for  lesu  Crist  seith, 
'  waketh,  and  preyeth  that  ye  ne 
entre  in  wikked  temptacioun.' / 
Ye  shul  understanden  also,  that 
fastinge  stant  in  three  thinges;  in 
forberinge  of  bodily  mete  and 
drinke,  and  in  forberinge  of  worldly 
lolitee,  and  in  forberinge  of  deedly 
sinne;  this  is  to  seyn,  that  a  man 
shal  kepen  him  fro  deedly  sinne 
with  al  his  might.  / 

§  96.  And  thou  shalt  under- 
standen eek,  that  god  ordeyned 
fastinge;  and  to  fastinge  apper- 
1050  tenen  foure  thinges.  /  Largenesse 
to  povre  folk,  gladnesse  of  herte  es- 
pirituel,  nat  to  been  angry  ne 
anoyed,  ne  grucche  for  he  fasteth ; 
and  also  resonable  houre  for  to  ete 
by  mesure;  that  is  for  to  seyn,  a 
man  shal  nat  ete  in  untyme,  ne  sitte 
the  lenger  at  his  table  to  ete  for  he 
fasteth.  / 

§  97.  Thanne  shaltow  under- 
stonde,  that  bodily  peyne  stant  in 
disciplyne  or  techinge,  by  word  or 
by  wrytinge,  or  in  ensample.  Also  in 
weringe  of  heyres  or  of  stamin,  or 


of  haubergeons  on  hir  naked  flesh, 
for  Cristes  sake,  and  swiche  manere 
penances.  /  But  war  thee  wel  that 
swiche  manere  penances  on  thy  flesh 
ne  make  nat  thyn  herte  bitter  or 
angry  or  anoyed  of  thy-self;  for 
bettre  is  to  caste  awey  thyn  heyre, 
than  for  to  caste  away  the  sikernesse 
of  lesu  Crist.  /  And  therfore  seith 
seint  Paul :  '  Clothe  yow,  as  they 
that  been  chosen  of  god,  in  herte 
of  misericorde,  debonairetee,  suf- 
fraunce,  and  swich  manere  of  cloth- 
inge'  ;  of  whiche  lesu  Crist  is  more 
apayed  than  of  heyres,  or  hauber- 
geons, or  hauberkes.  / 

§  98.  Thanne  is  disciplyne  eek  in 
knokkinge  of  thy  brest,  in  scourg- 
inge  with  yerdes,  in  knelinges,  in 
tribulacions;  /  in  suffringe  paciently  1055 
wronges  that  been  doon  to  thee, 
and  eek  in  pacient  suffraunce  of 
maladies,  or  lesinge  of  worldly  catel, 
or  of  wyf,  or  of  child,  or  othere 
freendes.  / 

§  99.  Thanne  shaltow  under- 
stonde,  whiche  thinges  destourben 
penaunce;  and  this  is  in  foure  man- 
eres,  that  is,  drede,  shame,  hope, 
and  wanhope,  that  is,  desperacion.  / 
And  for  to  speke  first  of  drede;  for 
which  he  vveneth  that  he  may  suffre 
no  penaunce;  /  ther-agayns  is  rem- 
edie  for  to  thinke,  that  bodily  pen- 
aunce is  but  short  and  litel  at  regard 
of  the  peyne  of  helle,  that  is  so 
cruel  and  so  long,  that  it  lasteth 
with-outen  ende.  / 

§  100.  Now  again  the  shame  that 
a  man  hath  to  shryven  him,  and 
namely,  thise  ypocrites  that  wolden 
been  holden  so  parfite  that  they  han 
no  nede  to  shryven  hem;  /  agayns  io5o 
that  shame,  sholde  a  man  thinke 
that,  by  wey  of  resoun,  that  he  that 
hath  nat  been  ashamed  to  doon 
foule  thinges,  certes  him  oghte  nat 
been  ashamed  to  do  faire  thinges, 
and  that  is  confessiouns.  /  A  man 
sholde  eek  thinke,  that  god  seeth 
and  wool  alle  hise  thoghtes  and  alle 
hise  werkes;  to  him  may  no  thing 
been    hid    ne     covered.  /      Men 


1063-108 1.] 


I.    THE   PERSONES   TALE. 


777 


shuUlcn  eck  remembren  hem  of  the 
shame  that  is  to  come  at  the  day  of 
dome,  to  hem  that  been  nat  peni- 
tent and  shriven  in  this  present 
lyf.  /  For  alle  the  creatures  in 
erthe  and  in  helle  shuUen  seen 
apertly  al  that  they  hyden  in  this 
world.  / 

§  loi.  Now  for  to  speken  of  the 
hope  of  hem  that  been  necHgent 
and  slowe  to  shryven  hem,  that  stant 

1065  in  two  maneres.  /  That  oon  is, 
that  he  hopeth  for  to  live  longe  and 
for  to  purchacen  muche  richesse  for 
his  delyt,  and  thanne  he  wol  shryven 
him;  and,  as  he  seith,  him  semeth 
thanne  tymely  y-nough  to  come  to 
shrifte.  /  Another  is,  surquidrie 
that  he  hath  in  Cristes  mercy.  / 
Agayns  the  lirste  vyce,  he  slial 
thinke,  that  oure  lyf  is  in  no  siker- 
nesse;  and  eek  that  alle  the  rich- 
esses  in  this  world  ben  in  aventure, 
and  passen  as  a  shadwe  on  the 
wal.  /  And,  as  seith  seint  Gregorie, 
that  it  aperteneth  to  the  grete  right- 
vvisnesse  of  god,  that  nevere  shal 
the  peyne  stinte  of  hem  that  nevere 
wolde  withdrawen  hem  fro  sinne, 
hir  thankes,  but  ay  continue  in 
sinne;  for  thilke  perpetuel  wil  to 
do  sinne  shul  they  han  perpetuel 
peyne.  / 

§  102.  Wanhope  is  in  two  man- 
eres: the  firste  wanhope  is  in  the 
mercy  of  Crist;  that  other  is  that 
they  thinken,  that  they  ne  mighte 

1070  nat  longe  persevere  in  goodnesse.  / 
The  firste  wanhope  comth  of  that 
he  demeth  that  he  hath  sinned  so 
greetly  and  so  ofte,  and  so  longe 
leyn  in  sinne,  that  he  shal  nat  be 
saved.  /  Certes,  agayns  that 
cursed  wanhope  sholde  he  thinke, 
that  the  passion  of  lesu  Crist  is 
more  strong  for  to  unbinde  than 
sinne  is  strong  for  to  binde.  / 
Agayns  the  seconde  wanhope,  he 
shal  thinke,  that  as  ofte  as  he  falleth 
he  may  aryse  agayn  by  penitence. 
And  thogh  he  never  so  longe  have 
leyn  in  sinne,  the  mercy  of  Crist  is 
alwey    redy   to     receiven    him    to 


mercy.  /  Agayns  the  wanhope, 
that  he  demeth  that  he  sholde  nat 
longe  persevere  in  goodnesse,  he 
shal  thinke,  that  the  feblesse  of  the 
devel  may  no-thing  doon  but-if  men 
wol  suffren  him;  /  and  eek  he  shal 
han  strengthe  of  the  help  of  god, 
and  of  al  holy  chirche,  and  of  the 
proteccioun  of  aungels,  if  him  list./  1075 

§  103.  Thanne  shal  men  under- 
stoiule  what  is  the  fruit  of  [Knaunce ; 
and,  after  the  word  of  lesu  Crist,  it 
is  the  endelees  blisse  of  hevene,  / 
ther  loye  hath  no  contrarioustee  of 
wo  ne  grevaunce,  ther  alle  harmes 
been  passed  of  this  present  lyf; 
ther-as  is  the  sikernesse  fro  the 
peyne  of  helle;  ther-as  is  the  blis- 
ful  companye  that  reioysen  hem 
everemo,  everich  of  otheres  love;/ 
ther-as  the  body  of  man,  that  why- 
lom  was  foul  and  derk,  is  more 
cleer  than  the  sonne;  ther-as  the 
body,  that  vvhylom  was  syk,  freele, 
and  feble,  and  mortal,  is  inniortal, 
and  so  strong  and  so  hool  that  ther 
may  no-thing  apeyren  it;  /  ther-as 
ne  is  neither  hunger,  thurst,  ne  cold, 
but  every  soule  replenissed  with 
the  sighte  of  the  parfit  knowinge  of 
god.  /  This  blisful  regne  may 
men  purchace  by  poverte  espirituel, 
and  the  glorie  by  lowenesse;  the 
plentee  of  loye  by  hunger  and 
thurst,  and  the  reste  by  travaille; 
and  the  lyf  by  deeth  and  mortilica- 
cion  of  sinne.  /  1080 

Here  taketh  the  makere  of  this  hook 
his  leve. 

§  104.  Now  preye  I  to  hem  alle 
that  herkne  this  litel  tretis  or  rede, 
that  if  ther  be  any  thing  in  it  that 
lyketh  hem,  that  ther-of  they 
thanken  oure  lord  lesu  Crist,  of 
whom  procedeth  al  wit  and  al 
goodnesse.  /  And  if  ther  be  any 
thing  that  displese  hem,  I  preye 
hem  also  that  they  arrette  it  to  the 
defaute  of  myn  unconninge,  and 
nat  to  my  wil,  that  woUle  ful  fayn 
have   seyd   bettrc   if  I   haddc  had 


778 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[1082-1092.    1-16. 


conninge.  /  For  uure  boke  seith, 
'  al  that  is  writen  is  writen  for  oure 
doctrine ' ;  and  that  is  niyn  en- 
tente. /  Wherfore  I  biseke  yow 
mekely  for  the  mercy  of  god,  that 
ye  preye  for  me,  that  Crist  have 
mercy  on  me  and  foryeve  me  my 
giltes :  /  —  and  namely,  of  my 
translacions  and  endytinges  of 
worldly  vanitees,  the  whiche  I  re- 
1085  voke  in  my  retracciouns :  /  as  is 
the  book  of  Troilus;  The  book  also 
of  Fame;  The  book  of  the  nyne- 
tene  Ladies;  The  book  of  the 
Duchesse;  The  book  of  seint  Val- 
entynes  day  of  the  Parlement  of 
Briddes;  The  tales  of  Caunterbury, 
thilke  that  sounen  in-to  sinne;  / 
The  book  of  the  Leoun;  and  many 
another  book,  if  they  were  in  my 
remembrance;  and  many  a  song 
and  many  a  lecherous  lay;  that 
Crist   for   his   grete  mercy  foryeve 


me  the  sinne.  /  But  of  the  trans- 
lacion  of  Boece  de  Consolacione, 
and  othere  bokes  of  Legendes  of 
seintes,  and  omclies,  and  moralitee, 
and  devocioun,  /  that  thanke  I 
oure  lord  lesu  Crist  and  his  blisful 
moder,  and  alle  the  seintes  of  hev- 
ene;  /  bisekinge  hem  that  they 
from  hennes-forth,  un-to  my  lyves 
ende,  sende  me  grace  to  biwayle 
my  giltes,  and  to  studie  to  the  sal- 
vacioun  of  my  soule  :  —  and  graunte 
me  grace  of  verray  penitence,  con- 
fessioun  and  satisfaccioun  to  doon 
in  this  present  lyf;  /  thurgh  the  1090 
benigne  grace  of  him  that  is  king 
of  kinges  and  preest  over  alle 
preestes,  that  boghte  us  with  the 
precious  blood  of  his  herte;  /  so 
that  I  may  been  oon  of  hem  at  the 
day  of  dome  that  shulle  be  saved : 
Qui  cum  pah- e,  ^c.  1092 


Here  is  ended  the  book  of  the  Tales  of  Caunterbury,  compiled  by  Geffrey 
Chaucer,  ofwhos  soule  lesu  Crist  have  mercy.     Amen, 


APPENDIX  TO  GROUP  A. 


THE  TALE   OF   GAMELYN. 


LiTiiETH,  and  lesteneth  •  and  herkeneth 

aright. 
And  ye    schulle    heere    a    talking  •  of  a 

doughty  knight; 
Sire  lohan  of  Boundys  •  was  his  righte 

name, 
He     cowde    of    norture    y-nough  •  and 

mochil  of  game. 
Thre  sones  the  knight  hadde  •  that  with 

his  body  he  wan;  5 

The    eldest  was  a  moche    schrewe  ■  and 

sone  he  bigan. 
His  bretheren  loved  wel  here  fader  •  and 

of  him  were  agast. 
The  eldest  deserved  his  fadre's  curs  •  and 

had  it  at  the  last. 


The   goode   knight  his   fader  •  livede  so 

yore, 
That  deth  was  comen  him  to  •  and  han- 
dled him  ful  sore.  10 
The  goode  knight  cared  sore  ■  syk  ther  he 

lay, 
How  his  children  scholde  •  liven  after  his 

day. 
He  hadde  ben  wyde-wher  •  but  non  hous- 

bond  he  was, 
Al  the  lond  that  he  hadde  *  it  was  verrey 

purchas. 
Fayn  he  wolde  it  were  *  dressed  among 

hem  alle,  15 

That  ech  of  hem  hadde  his    part  •  as  it 

mighte  falle. 


I7-7'-] 


THE  TALE  OF  GAMELYN. 


779 


Tho  sente    he    in-to  cuntre  •  after  wyse 

kiiightes, 
To  hclpe  (lelen  his  londes  •  and  dressen 

hum  to-rightes. 
He  scnte  hem  word  by  lettres  •  they  schul- 

deu  hye  blyve, 
If  they  wulde  speke  with   him  •  whyl  he 

was  on  lyve.  20 

Tho  the  knightes  herden  •  syk  that  he 

lay, 
Hadile  they  no  reste  •  nother   night   ne 

day, 
Til   they   comen    to   him  •  ther    he   lay 

stille 
On    his    deth-bedde  •  to    abyde    goddes 

wille. 
Than  seyde  the  goode  knight  •  syk  ther 

he  lay,  25 

•  Lordes,  I  you  warne  •  for  soth,  withoute 

nay, 
I    may    no   lenger    liven  •  heer    in   this 

stounde; 
For  thurgh  goddes  wille  •  deth   draweth 

me  to  grounde.' 
Ther  nas  non   of  hem  alle  •  that  herde 

him  aright, 
That    they    ne    hadden    reuthe  ■  of    that 

ilke  knight,  30 

And  seyde,  '  sir,  for  goddes  love  •  ne  dis- 
may you  nought ; 
God  may  do  bote  of  bale  •  that  is  now 

y-wrought.' 
Than  spak  the  goode  knight  •  syk  ther 

he  lay, 
'  Boote  of  bale  god  may  sende  •  I  wot  it 

is  no  nay; 
But  I  byseke  you,  Jjnightes  •  for  the  love 

of  me,  35 

Goth  and  dresseth  my  lond  •  among  my 

sones  three. 
And  sires,  for  the  love  of  god  *  deleth 

hem  nat  amis. 
And  fcjrgetith   nat   Gamelyn  •  my  yonge 

sone  that  is. 
Taketh  heed  to  that  on  •  as  wel  as  to  that 

other; 
Selde  ye  see  ony  eyr  •  hclpen  his  brother.' 
Tho  leete    they  the  knight  lyen  •  that 

was  nought  in  hele,  41 

And  wenten  in-to  counsel  •  his  londes  for 

tu  dele; 
Fur  to  delen  hem  alle  •  to  oon,  that  was 

her  thought, 


And  for  Gamelyn  was  yongest  •  he  schulde 

have  nought. 
Al  the    lond    that  ther  was  •  they  dalten 

it  in  two,  ^5 

And  lecten  Gamelyn  the  yonge  •  withoute 

lunde  go, 
And  ech  of  hem  seyde  •  to  other  ful  lowde, 
His   brethcren   mighte   yeve    him    lund  • 

whan  he  good  cowile. 
Whan  they  hadde  deled  •  the  lond  at  here 

wille, 
They  comen  ayein  to  the  knight  •  ther  he 

lay  ful  stille,  50 

And    tolilen    him    anon-right  •  how  they 

hadden  wrought ; 
And    the    knigiit   ther    he  lay  •  lyked   it 

right  nought. 
Than  seyde  the  knight  • '  by  seynt  Mar- 

tyn, 
For  al  that  ye  have  y-doon  •  yit  is  the 

lond  myn  ; 
For  goddes    love,  neyhebours  •  stondeth 

alle  stille,  55 

And  I  wil  dele  my  lond  •  right  after  my 

wille. 
lohan,    myn    eldeste    sone  •  schal    have 

plowes  fyve, 
That  was  my  fadres  heritage  •  whyl  he  was 

on  lyve  ; 
And  my  middeleste    sone  •  fyve    plowes 

of  lond, 
That   I  halp  for  to  gete  •  with  my  righte 

hond  ;  60 

And   al    myn   other   purchas  •  of  londes 

and  leedes. 
That  I  biijuethe  Gamelyn  •  and  alle  my 

goode  steedes. 
And  I  biseke  yow,  goode  men  •  that  lawe 

conne  of  londe, 
For    Gamelynes    love  •  that    my    (jueste 

stonde.' 
Thus  (lake  the  knight  •  his  lond  by  his 

day,  65 

Right  on  his  deth-bedde  •  syk  ther  he  lay ; 
And  sone  aftirward  "  he  lay  stoon-stille, 
And  deyde   whan  tyme   com  •  as  it  was 

Cristes  wille. 
And   anon  as   he  was  deed  •  and  under 

gras  y-grave, 
Sone  the  elder  brother  •  gyled  the  yonge 

knave;  70 

He  took  into  his  hond'  his  lond  and  his 

leede. 


78o 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES, 


[72-126. 


And  Gamelyn  himselfe  •  to  clothen  and 

to  fccde. 
He  clothed  him  and  fedde  him  •  yvel  and 

eek  wrothe, 
And    leet    his    londes    for-fare  •  and    his 

houses  bothe, 
His  parkes   and  his  woodes  •  and  dedc 

nothing  wel  ;  75 

And  seththen  he  it  aboughte  •  on  his  fairc 

fcl. 
So  lonf^e  was  Gamclyn  •  in  his  brothcrcs 

halle, 
For    the    strengest,   of    good    wil  ■  they 

doutiden  him  allc; 
Ther  was  non   ther-inne  *  nowther  yong 

ne  old, 
That  wolde  wraththe  Gamelyn  •  were  he 

never  so  bold.  80 

Gamelyn  stood  on  a  day  •  in  his  brotheres 

yerde, 
And  bigan  with  his  hond  •  to  handlen  his 

berde ; 
He  thoughte  on  his  londes  •  that   layen 

unsawe, 
And    his    faire    okes  •  that    down   were 

y-drawe; 
His  parkes  were  y-broken  •  and  his  deer 

bireved ;  85 

Of  alle  his  goode  stcedes  •  noon  was  him 

bileved; 
His  howses  were  unhiled  •  and   ful  yvel 

dight; 
Tho  thoughte  Gamelyn  •  it  wente  nought 

aright. 
Afterward    cam    his    brother  •  walkinge 

thare, 
And  seyde  to  Gamelyn  •'  is  our  mete  yare?' 
Tho  wraththed  hini  Gamclyn  •  and  svvor 

by  goddes  book,  9 1 

'Thou    schalt    go    bake    thy-self •  I    wil 

nought  be  thy  cook  ! ' 
'  How?  brother  Gamelyn  ■  how  answerest 

thou  now? 
Thou  spake  never  such  a  word  •  as  thou 

dost  now.' 
'  By  my  faith,'  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  now  mc 

thinketh  neede,  95 

Of  alle  the  harnics  that    I  have  •  I   tok 

never  ar  heede. 
My  parkes  ben  to-broken  •  and  my  deer 

bireved. 
Of  niyn  armure  and  my  stcedes  •  nought 

is  me  bileved; 


Al  that  my  fader  me  biquath  •  al  goth  to 

schanie. 
And    therfor    have    thou    goddes    curs  • 

brotlier  l)y  thy  name  !  '  100 

Than   bispak  his  brother  •  that  rape  was 

of  rees, 
'  Stond  stille,   gadeling  ■  and   hold    right 

thy  pees; 
Thou  schalt  be  fayn  for  to  have  •  thy  mete 

and  thy  wede; 
What    spckest    thou,   Gamelyn  •  of  lond 

other  of  leede? ' 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn  •  the  child   that 

was  ying,  105 

'  Cristes  curs  mot  he  have  *  that  clepeth 

me  gadeling ! 
I  am  no  worse  gadeling  •  ne  no  worse 

wight, 
But    born    of  a    lady  •  and  geten    of  a 

knight.' 
Ne  durste  he  nat  to  Gamelyn*  nera-foote 

go, 
But  clepide  to  him  his  men  •  and  seyde  to 

hem  tho,  IIO 

'  Goth   and  beteth  this  boy  •  and  reveth 

him  his  wit. 
And  lat  him  lerne  another  tyme  •  to  an- 

swerc  me  bet.' 
Thanne  seyde  the  child  •  yonge  Gamelyn, 
'  Cristes  curs  mot  thou  have  •  brother  art 

thou  myn ! 
And  if  1  schal  algate  •  be  beten  anon,  115 
Cristes  curs  mot  thou  have  •  but  thou  be 

that  oon  !  ' 
And  anon  his  brother  •  in  that  grete  hete 
Made  his  men  to  fette  staves  •  Gamelyn 

to  bete. 
Whan  that  everich  of  hem  •  a  staf  hadde 

y-nome, 
Gamelyn  was   war   anon  •  tho    he   seigh 

hem  come;  120 

Tho  Gamelyn  seigh  him  come  •  he  loked 

over-al. 
And  was  war  of  a  pestel  •  stood  under  a 

wal; 
Gamelyn   was  light  of  foot  •  and  thider 

gan  he  lepe. 
And  drof  alle  his  brotheres  men  •  right  on 

an  hepe. 
He  loked  as  a  wilde  lyoun  •  and  leyde  on 

good  wooii ;  1 25 

Tho  his    brother  say  that  •  he  bigan  to 

goon; 


i27-i8i.] 


THE  TALE  OF   GAMEI.YN. 


781 


He  fley  up  in-til  a  loft  •  and  schette  the 

dure  fast; 
Thus  Gamelyn  with  thepestel  •  made  hem 

alle  agast. 
Some  for  Gamelynes  love  •  and  some  for 

his  eye, 
Alle  they  drowe  by  halves  •  tho  he  gan  to 

pleye.  1 30 

•VMiat!    how   now?'    seyde    Gamelyn* 

'  evel  m<jt  ye  thee  ! 
Wil   ye   biginne   contek  •  and    so   sone 

tiee?' 
Gamelyn  soughte  his  brother  •  whider  he 

was  flowe, 
And  saugh  wher  he  loked  •  out  at  a  win- 

dowe. 
'  Brother,'  sayde  Gamelj-n  • '  com  a  litel 

ner,  135 

And  I  wil  teche  thee  a  play  •  atte  boke- 

ler.' 
His  brother  him  answerde  •  and  swor  by 

seynt  Richer, 
'  Whyl  the  pestel  is  in  thin  bond  •  I  wil 

come  no  neer : 
Brother,  I  wil  make  thy  pees  •  I  swere  by 

Cristes  ore ; 
Cast  away  the  pestel  •  and  wraththe  thee 

no-more.'  140 

'  I  mot  neede,'  sayde  Gamelyn  • '  wraththe 

me  at  oones. 
For  thou  wolde  make  thy  men  •  to  breke 

myne  boones, 
Ne  hadde  I  had  ma)'n  •  and  might  in  mjTi 

armes, 
To  have  y-put  hem  fro  me "  they  wolde 

have  do  me  harmes.' 
'  Gamelyn,'  sayde  his  brother  • '  be  thou 

nought  wroth,  145 

For  to  seen  thee  have  harm  •  it  were  me 

right  loth ; 
I  ne  dide  it  nought,  brother  •  but  for  a 

fonding. 
For  to  loken  if  thou  were  strong  •  and 

art  so  ying.' 
'  Com  a-doun  than  to  me  •  and  graunte 

me  my  bone 
Of  thing  I  wil  thee  aske  •  and  we  schul 

saugh te  sone.'  150 

Doun  than  cam  his  brother  •  that  fikO  was 

and  fel. 
And  was  swithe  sore  •  agast  of  the  pestel. 
He  seyde,  '  brother  Gamelyn  •  aske  me 

thy  boone, 


And  loke  thou  me  blame  *  but  I  graunte 

sone.'  154 

Thanne  seyde  GameljTi  * '  brother,  y-wis. 
And  we  schulle  ben  at  oon  •  thou  most 

me  graunte  this : 
Al  that  my  fader  me  biquath  •  whyl  he 

was  on  lyve, 
Thou  most  do  me  it  have  •  )if  we  schul 

nat  strive.' 
'That  schalt  thou  have,  Gamel)!!  •  I  swere 

by  Cristes  ore  I 
Al  that  thy  fader  thee  biquath  •  though 

thou  woldest  have  more;  160 

Thy  lond,  that  l)'th  laye  •  ful  wel  it  schal 

be  sowe. 
And   thyn   howses  reysed  up  •  that   ben 

leyd  so  lowe.' 
Thus  seyde  the  knight  •  to  Gamelyn  with 

mowthe. 
And  thoughte  eek  of  falsnes  •  as  he  wel 

couthe. 
The   knight    thoughte   on   tresoun  •  and 

Gamelyn  on  noon,  165 

And  wente  and  kiste  his  brother  •  and, 

whan  they  were  at  oon. 
Alias  I    yonge  Gamelyn  •  nothing   he  ne 

wiste 
With  which  a  false  tresoun  •  his  brother 

him  kiste ! 
Litheth,   and    lesteneth  •  and    holdeth 

your  tonge. 
And  ye  schul  heere  talking  •  of  Gamelyn 

the  yonge.  170 

Ther  was  ther  bisyden  •  cryed  a  wrastling, 
And  therfor  ther  was  set  up  *  a  ram  and  a 

ring; 
And  Gamelyn  was  in  good  wil  •  to  wende 

therto, 
For  to  preven  his  might  •  what  he  cowthe 

do. 
'  Brother,'    seyde    Gamelyn  •  '  by    seynt 

Richer,  1 75 

Thou    most    lene    me    to-night  •  a   litel 

courser 
That  is  freisch  to  the  spore  •  on  for  to 

rj'de; 
I  most  on  an  erande  •  a  litel  her  bisyde.' 
'  By  god  I '  seyde  his  brother  • '  of  steedes 

in  my  stalle 
Go  and  chese  thee  the  best  •  and  spare  non 

of  alle  I  So 

Of  steedes  or  of  coursers  •  that  stonden 

hem  bisyde; 


782 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[182-236. 


And  tel  me,  goode  brother  •  whider  thou 

wolt  ryde.' 
*  Her  bisyde,  brother  •  is  cryed  a  wras- 

tling, 
And  therfor  schal  be  set  up  •  a  ram  and  a 

ring; 
Moche  worschip  it  were  •  brother,  to  us 

alle,  185 

Might  I  the  ram  and  the  ring  •  bring  home 

to  this  halle.' 
A  steede  ther  was  sadeled  •  smertely  and 

skeet; 
Gamelyn  did  a  paire  spores  'fast  on  his  feet. 
He  sette  his  foot  in  the  styrop  •  the  steede 

he  bistrood, 
And   toward    the  wrasteling '  the   yonge 

child  rood.  190 

Tho  Gamelyn  the  yonge  •  was  ride  out  at 

the  gat, 
The  false  knight  his  brother  •  lokked  it 

after  that, 
And  Isisoughte  lesu  Crist '  that  is  heven 

king. 
He    mighte    breke    his   nekke  •  in   that 

wrasteling. 
As  sone  as  Gamelyn  com  •  ther  the  place 

was,  195 

He  lighte  doun  of  his  steede  •  and  stood 

on  the  gras, 
And  ther  he  herd  a  frankeleyn  •  waylo- 

way  singe. 
And   bigan    bitterly  •  his   hondes   for   to 

wringe. 
'Goode     man,'    seyde    Gamelyn  •' why 

makestow  this  fare? 
Is  ther  no  man  that  may  •  you  helpe  out 

of  this  care?  '  200 

'  Alias  ! '  seyde  this  frankeleyn  • '  that  ever 

was  I  l^ore ! 
For  tweye  stalworthe  sones  •  I  wene  that 

I  have  lore; 
A  champioun  is  in  the  place  •  that  hath 

y-wrought  me  sorwe. 
For  he  hath  slayn  my  two  sones  •  but-if 

god  hem  liorwe. 
I  wold  yeve  ten  pound  •  by   lesu  Crist ! 

and  more,  205 

With  the  nones  I  fand  a  man  •  to  han- 

delen  him  sore.' 
'  Goode  man,'  sayde  Gamelyn  "  '  wilt  thou 

wel  doon. 
Hold  myn  hors,  whyl  my  man  •  draweth 

of  my  schoon. 


And  help  my  man  to  kepe  •  my  clothes 

and  my  steede. 
And  I  wil  into  place  go  •  to  loke  if  I  may 

speede.'  210 

'  By  god  !  '  sayde  the  frankeleyn  •  '  anon 

it  schal  be  doon; 
I  wil  my-self  be  thy  man  •  and  drawen  of 

thy  schoon. 
And    wende    thou   into   the   place  •  lesu 

Crist  thee  speede, 
And  drede  not  of  thy  clothes  •  nor  of  thy 

goode  steede.' 
Barfoot  and  ungert  •  Gamelyn  in  cam, 
Alle  that  weren  in  the  place  •  heede  of 

him  they  nam,  216 

How   he   durste   auntre  him  •  of  him  to 

doon  his  might 
That    was    so    doughty    champioun  •  in 

wrastling  and  in  tight. 
Up    sterte    the    champioun  •  rapely   and 

anoon. 
Toward    yonge   Gamelyn  •  he    bigan    to 

goon,  220 

And  sayde,  '  who  is  thy  fader  ■  and  who 

is  thy  sire? 
For  sothe  thou  art  a  gret  fool  •  that  thou 

come  hire ! ' 
Gamelyn  answerde  •  the  champioun  tho, 
*  Thou   knewe   wel    my   fader  •  whyl    he 

couth  e  go, 
Whyles  he  was  on  lyve  •  by  seint  Martyn ! 
Sir  lohan  of  Boundys  was  his  name  •  and 

I  Gamelyn.'  226 

'  Felaw,'    seyde    the    champioun  • '  al-so 

mot  I  thryve, 
I  knew  wel  thy  fader  •  while  he  was  on 

lyve; 
And  thyself,  Gamelyn  •  I  wil  that  thou  it 

heere, 
Whyl  thou  were  a  yong  boy  •  a  moche 

schrewe  thou  were.'  230 

Than  seyde  Gamelyn  •  and  swor  by  Cristes 

ore, 
'  Now  I  am  older  woxe  •  thou  schalt  me 

finde  a  more  ! ' 
'  1*7  S'^'^^ ' '  sayde   the  champioun  • '  wel- 
come mote  thou  be  ! 
Come  thou  ones  in  myn  bond  '  schalt  thou 

never  thee.' 
It  was  wel  withinne  the  night  •  and  the 

moone  schon,  235 

Whan  Gamelyn  and  the  champioun  •  to- 

gider  gonne  goon. 


237-290.] 


THE   TALE   OF   GAMELYN. 


783 


The  champioun  caste  tomes  •  to  Gamelyn 

that  was  prest, 
And  (iamelyn  stood  stille  •  and  bad  him 

doon  his  best. 
Thanne   seyde   Gamelyn  •  to  the  cham- 
pioun, 
'Thou    art    faste    aboute  ■  to   bringe   me 

adoun;  240 

Now   I   have   y-proved  •  many  tomes  of 

thyne, 
Thow  most,'   he   seyde,  '  proven  •  on   or 

twt)  of  myne.' 
(jamclyn  to  the  champioun  •  yede  smertely 

anon, 
Of  all    the    tomes   that   he   cowthe '  he 

schewed  him  but  oon. 
And  caste  him  on  the  lefte  syde  •  that 

three  ribbes  to-brak,  245 

And  ther-to  his  oon  arm  •  that  yaf  a  gret 

crak. 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn  •  smertely  anoon, 
'  Schal  it  be  holde  for  a  cast  •  or  dies  for 

noon? ' 
'  I^y  g"'l ' '  seyde  the  champioun  • '  whether 

that  it  be. 
He  that  cometh  ones  in  thin  hand  '  schal 

he  never  thee  !  '  250 

Than  seyde  the  frankeleyn  •  that  had  his 

sones  there, 
'  Blessed    l^e    thou,    Gamelyn  ■  that    ever 

thou  l)ore  were  !  ' 
The  frankeleyn  seyde  to  the  champioun  • 

of  him  stood  him  noon  eye, 
'  This   is   yonge   Gamelyn  •  that    taughte 

thee  this  pleye.' 
Agein  answerd  the  champioun  •  that  lyked 

nothing  wel,  255 

'  He  is  a  lither  mayster  •  and  his  pley  is 

right  fel ; 
Sith    I    wrastled    first  •  it    is    y-go    ful 

yore. 
But  I  was  nevere  in  my  lyf  ■  handeled  so 

sore.' 
Gamelyn  stoo<l  in  the  place  •  allone  with- 

oute  serk. 
And  seyde,  '  if  ther  be  eny  mo  •  lat  hem 

come  to  werk  ;  2(^10 

The    champioun    that    peyned    him  •  to 

werke  so  sore, 
It   semcth    by  his    continaunce  •  that  he 

wil  no-nn)re.' 
Gamelyn  in  the  place  •  stood  as  stille  as 

stoon. 


For   to  abyde  wrasteling  •  but  ther  com 

noon; 
'iher    was    noon    with    Gamelyn  •  wolde 

wrastle  more,  265 

For  he  handled  the  champioun  •  so  won- 

derly  sore. 
Two  gentil-men  ther  were  •  that  yemedc 

the  place, 
Comen  to  Gamelyn  '  (god  yevc  him  gcuxle 

grace !) 
And  sayde  to  him,  '  do  on  •  thyn   iiosen 

and  thy  schoon, 
For    solhe    at    this   tyme  •  this    feire    is 

y-doon.'  270 

And  than  seyde  Gamelyn  •  'so  mot  I  wel 

fare, 
I  have  nought  yet  halven-del  •  sold  up  my 

ware.' 
Tho  seyde  the  champioun  ■ '  so  brouke  I 

my  sweere. 
He  is  a  fool  that  ther-of  byeth  •  thou  sell- 

est  it  so  deere.' 
Tho   sayde    the  frankeleyn  •  that  was   in 

moche  care,  275 

'  Felaw,'  he    seyde  •' why   lakkcst   thou 

his  ware? 
By  seynt  lame  in  Galys  •  that  many  man 

hath  sought. 
Yet  it  is  to  good  cheep  •  that  thou  hast 

y-bought.' 
Tho  that  wardeynes  were  •  of  that  wras- 
teling 
Come   and   broughte  Gamelyn  •  the  ram 

and  the  ring,  280 

And  seyden,  '  have,  Gamelyn  •  the  ring 

and  the  ram, 
For  the  beste  wrasteler  •  that  ever  here 

cam.' 
Thus  wan  Gamelyn  •  the  ram  and  the  ring, 
And  wente  with   moche    loye  •  home    in 

the  morning. 
His  brother  seih  whcr  he  cam  •  with  the 

grete  rowte,  2S5 

And  bad  schitte  the  gate  •  and  holde  him 

withoute. 
The    porter    of   his    lord  ■  was    ful    sore 

agast, 
And  sterte  anon  to  the  gate  •  and  K)kkcd 

it  fast. 
Now     litheth,    and     lestencth  •  botlie 

yonge  and  olde. 
And  ye  schul  heere  gamen  •  of  Gamelyn 

the  bolde.  290 


784 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[291-347. 


Gamelyn  come  ther-to  •  for  to  have  comen 

in, 
And  thanne  was  it  y-schet  •  faste  with  a 

pin; 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  porter,  undo  the 

yat, 
For  many  good  mannes  sone  •  stondeth 

ther-at.' 
Than  answerd  the  porter  •  and  swor  by 

goddes  berde,  295 

'  Thow   ne   schalt,  Gamelyn  •  come   into 

this  yerde.' 
'Thow  lixt,'  sayde  Gamelyn  •  'so  browke 

I  my  chin  !  ' 
He   smot   the  wiket  with  his  foot  ■  and 

brak  awey  the  pin. 
The  porter  seyh  tho  •  it  might  no  better 

be, 
He  sette  foot  on  erthe  •  and  bigan  to  flee. 
'  By  my  faith,'  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  that  tra- 
vail is  y-lore,  301 
For  I  am  of  foot  as  light  as  thou  •  though 

thou  haddest  swore.' 
Gamelyn    overtook    the    porter  •  and  his 

teene  wrak. 
And  gerte   him  in  the  nekke  •  that  the 

bon  to-brak, 
And    took    him    by  that   oon    arm  •  and 

threw  him  in  a  welle,  305 

Seven  fadmen   it   was   deep  •  as  I  have 

herd  telle. 
Whan  Gamelyn  the   yonge  •  thus  hadde 

pleyd  his  play, 
AUe  that  in  the  yerde  were  •  drewen  hem 

away ; 
They  dredden  him  ful  sore  •  for  werkes 

that  he  wroughte, 
And  for  the  faire  company  •  that  he  thider 

broughte.  310 

Gamelyn  yede  to  the  gate  •  and  leet  it  up 

wyde; 
He  leet  in  alle  maner  men  •  that  gon  in 

wolde  or  ryde, 
And  seyde,  '  ye  be  welcome  *  withouten 

eny  greeve, 
For  we  wiln  be  maistres  heer  •  and  aske 

no  man  leve.  314 

Yestirday  I  lefte'  •  seyde  yonge  Gamelyn, 
'  In  my  brother  seller  •  fyve  tonne  of  wyn ; 
I  wil  not  that    this  compaignye  •  parten 

a-twinne, 
And  ye  wil  doon  after  me  •  whyl  eny  sope 

is  thrinne. 


And  if  my  brother  grucche  •  or  make  foul 

cheere, 
Other  for  spense  of  mete  or  drink  •  that 

we  spenden  heere,  320 

I  am  oure  catour  •  and  bere    oure    aller 

purs, 
He  schal  have    for  his  grucching  •  seint 

Maries  curs. 
My    brother    is    a    niggoun  •  I    swer    jjy 

Cristes  ore, 
And  we  wil  spende  largely  •  that  he  hath 

spared  yore; 
And   who  that    maketh    grucching  •  that 

we  here  dwelle,  325 

He  schal  to  the  porter  •  into  the  draw- 

welle.' 
Seven  dayes  and  seven    night  •  Gamelyn 

held  his  feste. 
With  moche  mirth  and    solas  •  that  was 

ther,  and  no  cheste; 
In  a  little  toret  •  his  brother  lay  y-steke, 
And  sey  hem  wasten  his  good  •  liut  durste 

he  not  speke.  330 

Erly  on  a  morning  •  on  the  eighte  day, 
The  gestes  come  to  Gamelyn  •  and  wolde 

gon  here  way. 
'  Lordes,'  seyde  Gamelyn  •  'wil  ye  so  hye? 
Al  the  wyn  is  not  yet  dronke  •  so  brouke 

I  myn  ye.' 
Gamelyn  in  his  herte  •  was  he  ful  wo,  335 
Whan  his  gestes  took  her  leve  •  from  him 

for  to  go; 
He  wolde   they  had   lenger   abide  •  and 

they  seyde  '  nay,' 
But  bitaughte-  Gamelyn  •  god,  and  good 

day. 
Thus    made     Gamelyn     his     feest  •  and 

broughte  it  wel  to  ende. 
And  after  his  gestes  •  took  leve  to  wende. 
Litheth,    and    lesteneth  •  and    holdeth 

youre  tonge,  341 

And  ye  schul  heere  gamen  •  of  Gamelyn 

the  yonge; 
Herkeneth,      lordinges  •  and      lesteneth 

aright. 
Whan  alle  gestes  were  goon  •  how  Game- 
lyn was  dight. 
Al    the    whyl    that    Gamelyn  •  heeld    his 

mangerye,  345 

His  brother  thoughte  on  him  be  wreke  * 

with  his  treccherye. 
Tho    Gamelyns    gestes  •  were    riden    and 

y-goon, 


348-402.] 


THE  TALE  OF  GAMELYN. 


78s 


I 


Gamelyn    stood    allone  •  frendes   had    he 

noon ; 
Tho    after    ful    scone  •  withinne    a    litel 

stoundc, 
Gamelyn    was    y-taken  •  and    ful    harde 

y-bounde.  350 

Forth  com  the  false  knight  •  out  of  the 

soleer, 
To   Gamelym  his   brother  ■  he   yede    ful 

neer, 
And  sayde  to  Gamelyn  • '  who  made  thee 

so  bold 
For  to  stroye   my  stoor  •  of  myn   hous- 

hold?' 
'Brother,'     seyde     Gamelyn  • '  wraththe 

thee  right  nought,  355 

For  it  is  many  day  y-gon  •  siththen  it  was 

bought; 
For,  brother,  thou  hast  y-had  •  by  seynt 

Richer, 
Of  fiftene  plowes  of  lond  •  this  sixtene  yer, 
And  of  alle  the  beestes  ■  thou  hast  forth 

bred, 
That  my  fader  me  biquath  •  on  his  deth- 

bed ;  360 

Of  al  this  sixtene  yeer  •  I  yeve  thee  the 

prow. 
For  the  m.ete  and  the  drink  •  that  we  have 

spended  now.' 
Thanne    seyde    the    false    knight  •  (evel 

mot  he  thee !) 
'Herkne,  brother  Gamelyn  •  what  I  wol 

yeve  thee; 
For  of  my  body,  brother  •  heir  geten  have 

I  noon,  365 

I  wil  make  thee  myn  heir  •  I  swere  by 

seint  lohan.' 
'  Par  via  foy  ! '  sayde  Gamelyn  • '  and  if  it 

so  be, 
And  thou  thenke  as  thou  seyst  ■  god  yelde 

it  thee !  ' 
Nothing  wiste  Gamelyn  •  of  his  brotheres 

gyle; 
Therfore    he     him    bigyled  •  in    a    litle 

whyle.  370 

'  Gamelyn,'   seyde  he  •  '  o   thing   I    thee 

telle; 
Tho  thou  threwe  my  porter  •  in  the  draw- 

wellc, 
I  swor  in  that  wraththe  •  and  in  that  grete 

moot, 
That  thou   schuldest    be    bounde  •  bothe 

hand  and  foot; 

3E 


Therfore  I  thee  biseche  •  brother  Game- 
lyn. 375 
Lat  me  nought  be  forsworen  •  brother  art 

thou  myn; 
Lat  me  binde  thee  now  •  bothe  hand  and 

feet. 
For  to  holde  myn  avow  •  as  I   thee  bi- 

heet.' 
'  Brother,'  sayde  Gamelyn  •  '  al-so  mot  I 

thee ! 
Thou  schalt  not   be    forsworen  •  for    the 

love  of  me.'  380 

Tho  made  they  Gamelyn  to  sitte  •  mighte 

he  nat  stonde, 
Til  they  hadde  him  bounde  •  bothe  foot 

and  honde. 
The  false  knight  his  brothet  •  of  CJamelyn 

was  agast. 
And  sente  aftir  feteres  •  to  feteren    him 

fast. 
His  brother  made  lesinges  •  on  him  ther 

he  stood,  385 

And    tolde    hem    that    comen    in  •  that 

Gamelyn  was  wood. 
Gamelyn    stood    to  a    post  •  bounden    in 

the  halle, 
Tho  that  comen  in  ther  •  lokede  on  him 

alle. 
Ever  stood  Gamelyn  •  even  upright; 
But  mete    ne  drink  had  he  non  •  neither 

day  ne  night.  390 

Than  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  brother,  by  myn 

hals. 
Now  I  have    aspyed  •  thou    art    a   party 

fals; 
Had  I  wist  that  tresoun  •  that  thou  had- 

dest  y-founde, 
I  wolde  have  yeve  thee  strokes  •  or  I  had 

be  bounde ! ' 
Gamelyn    stood   bounden  •  stille    as   eny 

stoon;  395 

Two  dayes  and  two  nightes  •  mete  had  he 

noon. 
Thanne     seyde      Gamelyn  •  that      stood 

y-bounde  stronge, 
*  Adam   spenser  •  me   thinkth  I  faste   to 

longe; 
Adam  spenser  •  now  I  byseche  thee, 
For    the    mochel   love  •  my    fader   loved 

thee,  400 

If  thou  may  come  to  the  keyes  •  lese  me 

out  of  bond. 
And  I  wil  parte  with  thee  •  of  my  free  lond.' 


786 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[403-460. 


Thanne     seyde     Adam  •  that     was     the 

spencer, 
'  I  have  served  thy  brother  •  this  sixtene 

yeer, 
If  I  leete  thee  goon  •  out  of  his  hour,  405 
He  wolde  say  afterward  •  I  were  a  tray- 
tour.' 
'  Adam,'  sayde  Gamelyn  • '  so   brouke    I 

myn  hals ! 
Thou  schalt  finde  my  brother  •  atte  laste 

fals; 
Therfor,  brother  Adam  •  louse  me  out  of 

bond, 
And  I  wil  parte  with  thee  •  of  my  free 

lond.'  410 

'  Up    swich    a    forward '  •  seyde    Adam, 

'  y-wis, 
I  wil  do  therto  •  al  that  in  me  is.' 
'  Adam,'   seyde   Gamelyn  ■ '  al-so   mot   I 

thee, 
I  wol  holde  thee  covenant  •  and  thou  wil 

me.' 
Anon    as   Adames    lord  •  to   bedde   was 

y-goon,  415 

Adam  took  the  keyes,  and  leet  •  Gamelyn 

out  anoon; 
He   unlokked    Gamelyn  •  bothe    handes 

and  feet, 
In  hope  of  avauncement  •  that    he    him 

biheet. 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  thanked  be  god- 

des  sonde !  419 

Now  I  am  loosed  •  bothe  foot  and  honde; 
Had  I  now  eten  •  and  dronken  aright, 
Ther  is  noon  in  this  hous  •  schulde  binde 

me  this  night.' 
Adam  took    Gamelyn  •  as  stille   as   ony 

stoon. 
And  ladde  him  in-to  spence  •  rapely  and 

anon. 
And  sette  him  to  soper  •  right  in  a  privee 

stede,  425 

He  bad  him  do  gladly  •  and  Gamelyn  so 

dede. 
Anon  as  Gamelyn  hadde  •  eten  wel  and 

fyn, 
And  therto  y-dronke  wel  •  of  the  rede  wyn, 
'  Adam,'  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  what  is  now  thy 

reed? 
Wher  I  go  to  my  brother  •  and  girde  of 

his  heed? '  430 

'  Gamelyn,'  seyde  Adam  • '  it  schal  not  be 


I  can  teche  thee  a  reed  •  that  is  worth 

the  two. 
I  wot  wel  for  sothe  '  that  this  is  no  nay, 
We    schul    have   a   mangery  •  right    on 

Soneday;  434 

Abbotes  and  priours  •  many  heer  schal  be. 
And  other  men  of  holy  chirche  •  as  I  telle 

thee; 
Thow  schalt  stonde  up   by  the  post  •  as 

thou  were  hond-fast. 
And  I  schal  leve  hem  unloke  •  away  thou 

may  hem  cast. 
Whan  that  they  have  eten  •  and  wasschen 

here  hondes, 
Thou  schalt  biseke    hem    alle  •  to    bring 

thee  out  of  bondes;  440 

And  if  they  wille  borwe  thee  •  that  were 

good  game. 
Then  were  thou  out  of  prisoun  •  and   I 

out  of  blame; 
And    if  everich    of   hem  •  say    unto    us 

'  nay,' 
I  schal  do  an  other  •  I  swere  by  this  day ! 
Thou  schalt  have  a  good  staf  •  and  I  wil 

have  another,  445 

And  Cristes  curs  have  that  oon  ■  that  fail- 

eth  that  other  ! ' 
*  Ye,  for  gode  !  '  sayde  Gamelyn  • '  I  say 

it  for  me. 
If  I  fayle  on  my  syde  •  yvel  mot  I  thee ! 
If  we  schul  algate  •  assoile  hem  of  here 

sinne, 
Warne  me,  brother  Adam  •  whan  I  schal 

biginne.'  450 

'  Gamelyn,'     seyde    Adam  •  '  by     seynte 

Charite, 
I  wil  warne   thee   biforn  •  whan   that   it 

schal  be; 
Whan  I  twinke  on  thee  •  loke  for  to  goon. 
And  cast  awey  the  feteres  •  and  com  to 

me  anoon.' 
'  Adam,'  seyde  Gamelyn  •  '  blessed  be  thy 

bones!  455 

That  is  a  good    counseil  •  yeven  for  the 

nones; 
If  they  werne  me  thanne '  to  bringe  me 

out  of  bendes, 
I  wol  sette  goode  strokes  •  right  on  here 

lendes.' 
Tho  the  Sonday  was  y-come  •  and  folk 

to  the  feste, 
Faire    they    were    welcomed  •  both    leste 

and  meste;  460 


461-518.] 


THE  TALE  OF  GAMEI.YN. 


787 


And  ever  atte  halle-dore  •  as  they  comen 

in, 
They  caste  their  eye  •  on  yonge  Gamelyn. 
'J'he    false    knight    his    brother  •  ful    of 

trechery, 
Alle    the    gestes    that    ther    were  •  atte 

mangery, 
Of  Gamelyn  his  brother  •  he  tokle    hem 

with  mouthe  465 

Al  the  harm  and    the    schame  •  that    he 

telle  couthe. 
Tho  they  were  served  ■  of  messes  two  or 

three, 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn  •  'how  serve  ye  me? 
It  is  nought  wel   served  ■  by  god  that  al 

made  ! 
That  I  sitte  fasting  •  and  other  men  make 

glade.'  470 

The   false  knight  his  brother  •  ther  that 

he  stood, 
Tokle  alle  his  gestes  •  that  Gamelyn  was 

wood  ; 
And  Gamelyn  stood  stille  •  and  answerde 

nought, 
But    Adames   wordes  •  he    held    in    his 

thought. 
Tho  Gamelyn  gan  speke  •  dolfully  with- 

alle  475 

To  the  grete  lordes  •  that   saten  in  the 

halle : 
'  Lordes,'    he   seyde  •  '  for   Cristes   pas- 

sioun, 
Helpeth  bringe  Gamelyn  •  out  of  prisoun.' 
Than    seyde    an    abbot  "sorwe    on    his 

cheeke  ! 
'He  schal  have  Cristes  curs  *  and  seynte 

Maries  eeke,  480 

That  thee  out  of  prisoun  •  beggeth  other 

borwe, 
But  ever  worthe  hem  wel  •  that  doth  thee 

moche  sorwe.' 
After  that  abbot  •  than  spak  another, 
'  I  wold  thin  heed  were  of  •  though  thou 

were  my  brother ! 
Alle    that   thee   borwe  •  foule   mot   hem 

falle ! '  485 

Thus  they  seyden  alle  •  that  weren  in  the 

halle. 
Than  seyde  a  priour  •  yvel  mot  he  thryve  ! 
'  It  is  moche  scathe,  boy  ■  that  thou  art 

on  lyve.' 
'  Ow  ! '  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  so  brouke  I  my 

bon ! 


Now  I  have  aspyed  ■  that  freendes  have 

I  non.  490 

Cursed  mot  he  worthe  •  bothe  fleisch  and 

blood, 
That     ever     do     priour  •  or    abbot    ony 

good  !  ' 
Adam  the  spencer  •  took  up  the  cloth, 
And  loked  on  Gamelyn  •  and  say  that  he 

was  wroth ; 
Adam  on  the  pantrye  ■  litel  he  thoughte, 
But   two   goode  staves  •  to  halle-dore  he 

broughte,  496 

Adam   loked   on  Gamelyn  •  and   he  was 

war  anoon. 
And    caste    awey   the    feteres  •  and    he 

bigan  to  goon  : 
Tho  he  com  to  Adam  •  he  took  that  00  staf. 
And  bigan  to  worche  •  and  goode  strokes 

yaf.  500 

Gamelyn   cam    in-to   the  halle  •  and   the 

spencer  bothe. 
And  loked  hem  aboute  •  as  they  had  be 

wrothe; 
Gamelyn  sprengeth  holy-water  •  with  an 

oken  spire, 
That  some  that  stoode  upright  •  fellen  in 

the  fire. 
There   was   no   lewed   man  ■  that   in    the 

halle  stood,  505 

That  wolde  do  Gamelyn  •  eny  thing  but 

good, 
But  stood  bisyden  •  and  leet  hem  bothe 

werche. 
For   they    hadde   no  rewthe  •  of  men  of 

holy  cherche; 
Abbot  or  priour  •  monk  or  chanoun, 
That  Gamelyn  overtok  •  anon  they  yeeden 

doun.  510 

Ther  was  non  of  hem  alle  •  that  with  his 

staf  mette. 
That  he  ne  made  him  overthrowe  •  and 

quitte  him  his  dette. 
'  Gamelyn,'     seyde     Adam  • '  for    seynte 

Charite, 
Pay  large  liverey  "  for  the  love  of  me, 
And  I  wil  kepe  the  dore  •  so  ever  here  I 

masse  !  515 

P"r  they   ben   assoyled  "  there   shal   noon 

passe.' 
'  Dowt    thee    nought,'    seyde   Gamelyn  • 

'  whyl  we  ben  in-feere, 
Kep  thou  wel  the  dore  *  and  I  wol  werche 

heere: 


788 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[519-574- 


Stere    thee,    good   Adam  •  and    lat   ther 

noon  flee, 
And  we  schul  telle  largely  •  how  many  that 
ther  be.'  520 

'  Gamelyn,'  seyde    Adam  • '  do   hem   but 

good; 
They  ben  men  of  holy  chirche  •  draw  of 

hem  no  blood, 
Save  wel  the  croune "  and  do  hem  non 

harmes, 
But  brek  bothe  her  legges  •  and  siththen 

here  armes.' 
Thus     Gamelyn     and    Adam  •  wroughte 
right  fast,  525 

And    pleyden    with    the    monkes  '  and 

made  hem  agast. 
Thider    they    come    ryding'Iohly   with 

swaynes, 
And  hom  ayen  they  were  y-lad  •  in  cartes 

and  in  waynes. 
Tho  they  hadden  al  y-don  •  than  seyde  a 

gray  frere, 
'  Alias !  sire   abbot  •  what   dide  we   now 
heere  ?  53° 

Tho  that  we  comen  hider  •  it  was  a  cold 

reed, 
Us  hadde  ben  better  at  home  '  with  water 

and  with  breed.' 
Whyl  Gamelyn  made  ordres  •  of  monkes 

and  frere, 
Ever  stood   his  brother  •  and  made  foul 

chere; 
Gamelyn  up  with  his  staf  ■  that  he  wel 
knew,  535 

And   gerte  him  in  the   nekke  •  that   he 

overthrew; 
A  litel  above  the   girdel  •  the  rigge-bon 

to-barst; 
And  sette  him  in  the  feteres  •  ther  he  sat 

arst. 
'  Sitte  ther,  brother  '  •  sayde  Gamelyn, 
'  For  to  colen  thy  blood"  as  I  dide  myn.' 
As  swythe  as  they  hadde  •  y-wroken  hem 
on  here  foon,  541 

They    askeden    watir    •    and     wisschen 

anoon. 
What  some  for  here  love  •  and  some  for 

here  awe, 
Alle  the  servants  served  hem  •  of  the  beste 

lawe. 
The  scherreve  was  thennes  *  but  a  fyve 
myle,  545 

And  al  was  y-told  him  •  in  a  litel  whyle. 


How  Gamelyn  and    Adam  •  had  doon  a 

sory  rees, 
Bounden  and  y-wounded  men  •  ayein  the 

kinges  pees; 
Tho  bigan  some  "  stryf  for  to  wake, 
And  the   scherref  was  aboute  •  Gamelyn 
for  to  take.  550 

Now  lytheth  and  lesteneth  •  so  god  yif 
you  good  fyn  ! 
And  ye  schul  heere  good  game  •  of  yonge 

Gamelyn. 
Four  and  twenty  yonge  men  •  that  heelden 

hem  ful  bolde. 
Come   to    the    schirref'and    seyde   that 

they  wolde 
Gamelyn  and  Adam  •  fetten,  by  her  fay; 
The  scherref  yaf  hem  leve  •  soth  as  I  you 
say;  55^ 

They   hyeden    faste  •  wold    they   nought 

bilinne. 
Til  they  come  to  the  gate  •  ther  Gamelyn 

was  inne. 
They  knokked   on  the  gate  •  the  porter 

was  ny, 
And  loked  out  at  an  hoi  •  as  man  that 
was  sly.  560 

The   porter   hadde    biholde  •  hem  a  litel 

whyle. 
He  lovel  wel  Gamelyn  •  and  was  adrad 

of  gyle. 
And  leet  the  wicket  stonden  •  y-steke  ful 

stille, 
And  asked  hem  withoute  •  what  was  here 

wille. 
For  al  the  grete  company  •  thanne  spak 
but  oon,  565 

'  Undo    the  gate,  porter  •  and   lat  us  in 

goon.' 
Than  seyde  the  porter  • '  so  brouke  I  my 

chin. 
Ye  schul  sey   your   erand  •  er  ye  comen 

in.' 
'  Sey   to   Gamelyn    and    Adam  •  if    here 

wille  be. 
We  vvil  speke  with  hem  •  wordes  two  or 
tbre.'  570 

'  Felaw,'  seyde  the  porter  • '  stond  there 

stille, 
And  I   wil  wende  to  Gamelyn  •  to  witen 

his  wille.' 
In  wente  the  porter  •  to  Gamelyn  anoon. 
And  seyde,  '  Sir,  I  warne  you  •  her  ben 
come  your  foon; 


575-632-] 


THE  TALE   OF  GAMELYN. 


789 


The  scherreves  meyne  •  ben  atte  gate, 
For  to    take  you  bothe • schuUe  ye  nat 

scape.'  576 

'  Porter,'  seyde  Ganielyn  • '  so  moot  I  wel 

thee ! 
1  wil  allowe  thee  thy  wordes  •  whan  I  my 

tyme  see; 
Go  agayn  to  tlie  yate  •  and  dwel  with  hem 

a  whyle, 
And  thou  schalt  see  right  sone  •  porter,  a 

gyle. 
Adam,'  sayde  Gamelyn  • '  looke    thee  to 

goon;  581 

We  have  foo-men  atte  gate  ■  and  frendes 

never  oon; 
It  ben  the  schirrefes  men  •  that  hider  ben 

y-conie. 
They  ben  swore  to-gidere  *  that  we  schul 

be  nome.' 
'Gamelyn,'  seyde  Adam  • '  hye  thee  right 

bly've,  585 

And  if  I  fade  thee  this  day  •  evel  mot  I 

thryve  ! 
And  we  schul  so  welcome  •  the  scherreves 

men, 
That   some   of   hem    schul    make "  here 

beddes  in  the  fen.' 
Atte  posterne-gate  •  (jamelyn  out  wente, 
And  a  good   cart-staf  ■  in   his   hand    he 

hente;  590 

Adam  hente  sone  •  another  gret  staf 
For  to  helpen  Gamelyn  •  and  goode  strokes 

yaf. 
Adam  felde  tweyne  •  and  Gamelyn  felde 

three, 
The  other  setten  feet  on  erthe  •  and  bi- 

gonne  flee. 
'What?'  seyde  Adam  •' so  ever  here  I 

masse !  595 

I  have  a  draught  of  good  wyn !  •  drink  er 

ye  passe !  ' 
'  Nay,  Iiy  god  !  '  sayde  thay  •  '  thy  drink 

is  not  good. 
It  wolde  make  mannes  brayn  •  to  lyen  in 

his  hood.' 
Gamelyn    stood    stille  •  and    loked    him 

aboute. 
And   seih    the    scherreve   come  •  with    a 

gret  route.  600 

'  Adam,'  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  what  be  now 

thy  reedes? 
Here    cometh    the    scherreve  •  and    wil 

have  oure  heedes.' 


Adam  sayde,  '  Gamelyn  •  my  reed   is  now 

this, 
Abyde  we  no  lenger  •  lest  we  fare  amis : 
I  rede  that  we  to  wode  goon  •  ar  that  we 
be  founde,  605 

Better    is    us    ther    loos  •  than   in   town 

y-boundc' 
Adam  took  by  the  bond  ■  yonge  Gamelyn; 
And     everich     of     hem     two  •  drank    a 

draught  of  wyn. 
And    after  took    her  cours  •  and  wcnlen 

her  way; 
Tho    fond   the  scherreve  •  nest,   but   mm 

ay.  610 

The    scherreve    lighte    adoun  •  and   went 

in-to  the  halle, 
And  fond  the  lord  y-fetered  •  faste  wilh- 

alle. 
The  scherreve  unfetered  him  •  sone,  and 

that  anoon, 
And  sente  after  a  leche  •  to  hele  his  rigge- 

boon. 
Lete  we  now  this  false  knight 'lyen  in 

his  care,  615 

And  talke  we  of  Gamelyn  •  and  loke  how 

he  fare. 
Gamelyn  in-to  the  woode  '  stalkede  stille. 
And  Adam  the  spenser  •  lykede  ful  ille; 
Adam    swor     to     Gamelyn    •    by    seynt 

Richer,  619 

\  '  Now  I  see  it  is  mery  •  to  be  a  spencer, 
That  lever  me  were  •  keyes  for  to  here, 
Than   walken    in    this  wilde  woode  •  my 

clothes  to  tere.' 
'Adam,'  seyde  Gamelyn  •' dismaye   thee 

right  nought; 
Many    good    mannes    child  •  in    care    is 

y-brought.' 
And   as   they  stoode  talking  •  bothen  in- 

feere,  625 

Adam  herd  talking  of  men 'and    neyh, 

him  thought,  they  were. 
Tho    Gamelyn  under  the  woode  •  lokede 

aright, 
Sevene  score  of  yonge  men  •  he  saugh  wel 

a-dight; 
AUe  satte  atte  mete  •  in  compas  aboute. 
'Adam,'  seyde  Gamelyn  •' now  have  we 

no  doute,  630 

After  bale   cometh  boote  •  thurgh  grace 

of  god  almight; 
Me  thinketh  of  mete  and  drink  •  that  I 

have  a  sight.' 


79° 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 


[633-689. 


Adam  lokede  tho  •  under  woode-bowgh, 
And  whan    he   seyh  mete  •  he  was  glad 

y-nough; 
For  he  hopede  to  god  "  for  to  have  his  deel, 
And  he  was  sore  alonged "  after  a  good 

meel.  636 

As  he  seyde  that  word  •  the  mayster  out- 

lawe 
Saugh  Gamelyn  and  Adam  •  under  wood- 

schawe. 
'  Yonge  men,'  seyde  the  maister  • '  by  the 

goode  roode, 
I  am  war  of  gestes  •  god  sende  us  non  but 

goode;  640 

Yonder  ben  two  yonge  men  •  wonder  wel 

a-dight, 
And   paraventure  ther  ben  mo  •  who-so 

lukede  aright. 
Ariseth  up,  ye  yonge  men  •  and  fetteth 

hem  to  me; 
It  is  good  that  we  witen  •  what  men  they 

be.' 
Up  ther  sterten  sevene  •  fro  the  diner, 
And   metten   with  Gamelyn  •  and  Adam 

Spenser.  646 

Whan  they  were  neyh  hem  •  than  seyde 

that  oon, 
'  Yeldeth  up,  yonge  men  •  your  bowes  and 

your  floon.' 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn  •  that  yong  was  of 

elde, 
'  Moche  surwe  mot  he  have  •  that  to  you 

hem  yelde  !  650 

I  curse  non  other  •  but  right  my-selve; 
They  ye  fette  to  yow  fyve  •  thanne  ye  be 

twelve !  ' 
Tho  they  herde  by  his  word  •  that  might 

was  in  his  arm, 
Ther  was  non  of  hem  alle  •  that  wolde  do 

him  harm, 
But  sayde  unto   Gamelyn  •  mildely   and 

stille,  655 

*  Com  afore  our  maister  •  and  sey  to  him 

thy  wille.' 
'  Yonge  men,'  sayde  Gamelyn  • '  by  your 

lewte, 
What  man  is  your  maister  •  that  ye  with 

be?' 
Alle  they  answerde  •  withoute  lesing, 
'  Oure  maister  is  y-crouned  •  of  outlawes 

king.'  660 

'  Adam,'  seyde  Gamelyn  •  'go-we  in  Cristes 

name; 


He  may  neyther  mete  nor  drink  •  werne 

us,  for  schame. 
If  that  he  be  hende  •  and  come  of  gentil 

blood, 
He  wol  yeve  us   mete   and   drink  •  and 

doon  us  som  good.' 
'  By  seynt  lame  ! '   seyde   Adam  • '  what 

harm  that  I  gete,  665 

I  wil  auntre  to  the  dore  •  that  I  hadde 

mete.' 
Gamelyn    and    Adam  •  wente    forth    in- 

feere. 
And  they  grette  the  maister  •  that  they 

founde  there. 
Than  seide  the  maister  •  king  of  outlawes, 
'  What     seeke     ye,    yonge     men  •  under 

woode-schawes?'  670 

Gamelyn   answerde  •  the   king   with    his 

croune, 
'  He  moste  needes  walke  in  woode  •  tliat 

may  not  walke  in  towne. 
Sire,  we  walke  not  heer  •  noon  harm  for 

to  do, 
But-if  we  meete  with  a  deer  •  to  scheete 

ther-to, 
As  men  that  ben  hungry  •  and  mow  no 

mete  finde,  675 

And    ben   harde    bistad  •  under    woode- 

linde.' 
Of  Gamelynes  wordes  *  the  maister  hadde 

routhe. 
And  seyde, 'ye  schal  have  y-nough  •  have 

god  my  trouthe  ! ' 
He  bad  hem  sitte  ther  adoun  •  for  to  take 

reste ; 
And  bad  hem  ete  and  drinke  •  and  that 

of  the  beste.  680 

As  they  sete  and  eeten  •  and  dronke  wel 

and  fyn, 
Than  seyde    that    oon    to    that    other* 

'  this  is  Gamelyn.' 
Tho  was  the  maister  outlawe  •  in-to  coun- 

seil  nome. 
And    told    how    it   was    Gamelyn  •  that 

thider  was  y-come. 
Anon  as  he  herde  •  how  it  was  bifalle, 
He  made  him  maister  under  him  •  over 

hem  alle.  686 

Within  the  thridde  wyke '  him  com  tyding. 
To  the  maister  outlav/e  •  that  tho  was  her 

king. 
That  he  schulde  come  hom  •  his  pees  was 

y-mad; 


690-744-] 


THE  TALE   OF   GAMKLYN. 


791 


And  of  that  goode  tyding  •  he  was  tho  ful 

glad.  690 

Tho  seyde  he  to   his  yonge  men  • '  soth 

for  to  telle, 
Me  ben  coinen  tydinges  •  I  may  no  lenger 

dwelle.' 
Tho  was  (Jamelyn  anon  •  withoute  tarying, 
Maad  niaistcr  outlawe*  and  crouned  here 

king. 
Tho   was   Gamelyn  crouned  •  king   of 

outlawes,  695 

And     walked    a    whyle  •  under    woode- 

schawes. 
The  false  knight  his  brother  •  was  scher- 

reve  and  sire, 
And  leet  his  brother  endite  •  for  hate  and 

for  ire. 
Tho  were  his  bonde-men  •  sory  and  noth- 
ing glad, 
When  Gamelyn  her  lord  •  *  wolves-heed  ' 

was  cryed  and  maad;  700 

And  sente    out    of   his    men  •  wher  they 

might  him  finde, 
For  to  seke  Gamelyn  '  under  woodelinde. 
To  telle  him  tydinges  •  how  the  wind  was 

went. 
And  al  his  good  reved  *  and  his  men  schent 
Whan  they  had  him  founde  •  on  knees 

they  hem  sette,  705 

And  a-doun  with  here  hood  •  and  hertj/ 

lord  grette; 
'  Sire,  wraththe  you  nought  •  for  the  goode 

roode, 
For  we  have  brought  you  tydinges  •  but 

they  be  nat  goode. 
Now  is  thy  brother  scherreve  •  and  hath 

the  baillye. 
And  he  hath  endited  thee  •  and  '  wolves- 
heed  '  doth  thee  crye.'  710 
'  Alias  ! '  seyde  Gamelyn  • '  that  ever  I 

was  so  slak 
That  I  ne  hadde  broke  his  nekke  •  tho  I 

his  rigge  brak ! 
Goth,  greteth  hem  wel  •  niyn  housbondes 

and  wyf, 
I  wol  ben  atte  nexte  schire  •  have   god 

my  lyf !  ' 
Gamelyn    com    wel    redy  •  to    the    nexte 

schire,  715 

And  ther  was  his  brother  "  bothe  lord  and 

sire. 
Gamelvn  com  boldelich  •  in-to  the  moot- 

halle. 


And  putte  a-doun  his  hood  •  among  the 

lordes  alle ; 
'  God  save  you  alle,  lordinges  •  that  now 

here  be  ! 
But  broke-bak  scherreve  •  evel  mot   thou 

thee !  720 

Why  hast  thou  do  me  ■  that  schame  and 

vilonye. 
For  to  late  endite  me  •  and  '  wolves-heed  ' 

me  crye?' 
Tho  thoughte  the  false  knight  •  for  to  ben 

awreke. 
And   leet    take    Gamelyn  •  mosle    he    no 

more  speke; 
Might  ther  be  no  more  grace  •  but  Game- 
lyn atte  laste  725 
Was  cast  in-to  prisoun  •  and  fetered  ful 

faste. 
Gamelyn  hath  a  brother  •  that   highte 

sir  Ote, 
As  good  a  knight  and  hende  •  as  mighte 

gon  on  foote. 
Anon    ther    yede    a    messager "  to    that 

goode  knight, 
And  tolde  him  al-togidere  •  how  Gamelyn 

was  dight.  730 

Anon  as  sire  Ote   herde  •  how  Gamelyn 

was  a-dight, 
He  was  wonder  sory  •  was  he   no-thing 

light. 
And  leet  sadle  a  steede  •  and  the  way  he 

nam, 
And  to  his  tweyne  bretheren  •  anon-right 

he  cam. 
'  Sire,'  seyde  sire  Ote  *  to  the  scherreve  tho, 
'  We  ben  but  three  bretheren  •  schul  we 

never  be  mo;  736 

And  thou  hast  y-prisoned  •  the  beste  of 

us  alle; 
Svvich    another    brother  *  yvel   mot   him 

bifalle ! ' 
'  Sire  Ote,'  seide  the  false  knight  •  '  Lit  be 

thy  curs; 
By  god,  for  thy  wordes  •  he  schal  fare  the 

wurs;  740 

To    the    kinges    prisoun  •  anon     he     is 

y-nome. 
And  ther  he  schal  abyde  •  til  the  Justice 

come.' 
'  Parde  ! '  seyde  sir  Ote  • '  better  it  schal 

be; 
I     bidde    him    to    maynpris  •  that    thou 

graunte  him  me 


792 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[745-799- 


Til     the      nexte     sitting  •  of      deliver- 

aunce,  745 

And  thanne  lat  Gamelyn  •  stande  to  his 

chaunce.' 
'  Brother,  in  svvich  a  forward  •  I  take  him 

to  thee; 
And  by  thy  fader  soule  •  that  thee  bigat 

and  me, 
But-if  he  be  redy  •  whan  the  Justice  sitte, 
Tliou  schalt  here  the  luggement  •  for  al 

thy  grete  witte.'  750 

'  I  graunte  wel,'  seide  sir  Ote  • '  that  it  so 

be. 
Let  deliver  him  anon  •  and  tak  him  to 

me.' 
Tho  was  Gamelyn  delivered  •  to  sire  Ote 

his  brother, 
And  that  night  dwellede  •  that  on  with 

that  other. 
On  the  morn  seyde  Gamelyn  ■  to  sire  Ote 

the  hende,  755 

'  Brother,'  he  seide,  '  I  moot  •  for  sothe, 

from  thee  wende, 
To  loke  how  my  yonge  men  •  leden  here 

Whether  they  liven  in  loye  •  or  elles  in 

stryf.' 
'  By  god  ! '  seyde  sire  Ote  • '  that  is  a  cold 

reed. 
Now  I  see  that  al  the  cark  •  schal  fallen 

on  myn  heed;  760 

For  when  the  lustice  sitte  •  and  thou  be 

nought  y-founde, 
I  schal  anon  be  take  •  and  in  thy  stede 

y-bounde.' 
'  Brother,'  sayde  Gamelyn  • '  dismaye  thee 

nought, 
For  liy  seint  lame  in  Gales  •  that  many 

man  hath  sought. 
If  that  god  almighty  •  holde  my  lyf  and 

wit,  765 

I  wil  be  ther  redy  •  whan  the  lustice  sit.' 
Than  seide   sir    Ote    to    Gamelyn  • '  god 

schilde  thee  fro  schame; 
Com  whan  thou  seest  tyme  '  and  bring  us 

out  of  blame.' 
Litheth,    and   lesteneth  *  and   holdeth 

you  stille, 
And  ye  schul  here  how  Gamelyn  •  hadde 

al  his  wille.  770 

Gamelyn  wente  ayein  •  under  woode-rys. 
And  fond  there  pleying  •  yonge  men  of 

prys. 


Tho  was  yong  Gamelyn  •  glad  and  blithe 

y-nough. 
Whan    he    fond    his    mery    men  •  under 

woode-bough. 
Gamelyn    and    his    men  •  talkeden    in- 

feere,  775 

And  they  hadde  good  game  *  here  maister 

to  heere; 
They  tolden  him  of  aventures  •  that  they 

hadde  founde. 
And  Gamelyn  hem  tolde  ayein  •  how  he 

was  fast  y-bounde. 
Whyl  Gamelyn  was  outlawed  •  hadde  he 

no  cors; 
There  was  no  man  that  for  him  •  ferde 

the  wors,  780 

But    abbotes    and    priours  •  monk    and 

chanoun; 
On  hem  left  he  no-thing  •  whan  he  mighte 

hem  nom. 
Whyl    Gamelyn    and    his    men  •  made 

merthes  ryve. 
The  false  knight  his  brother  *  yvel  mot  he 

thryve ! 
For  he  was  fast  aboute  •  bothe  day  and 

other,  785 

For  to   hyre   the    quest  •  to   hangen   his 

brother. 
Gamelyn  stood  on  a  day  •  and,  as  he  bi- 

heeld 
The   woodes   and   the   schawes  •  in    the 

wilde  feeld, 
He  thoughte  on  his  brother  •  how  he  him 

beheet 
That  he  wolde  be  redy  •  whan  the  lustice 

seet;  790 

He  thoughte  wel  that  he  wolde  •  withoute 

delay, 
Come    afore    the    lustice  *  to   kepen    his 

day. 
And  seide  to  his  yonge  men  •  '  dighteth 

you  yare. 
For  whan  the  lustice  sitte  •  we  moote  be 

thare. 
For  I  am  under  borwe  •  til  that  I  come. 
And  my  brother  for  me  •  to  prisoun  schal 

be  nome.'  796 

'  By  seint  lame  ! '  seyde  his  yonge  men  • 

'  and  thou  rede  therto, 
Ordeyne  how  it  schal  be  •  and  it  schal  be 

do.' 
Whyl    Gamelyn    was    coming  •  ther   the 

lustice  sat, 


800-854] 


THE  TALE   OF   GAMELYN. 


793 


The  false  knijjht  his  brother  •  foryat  he 

nat  that,  Soo 

To    huyre    the    men    on    his    quest  ■  to 

hangen  liis  brother; 
Though    lie   haiUle   noui^h    that   oon  •  he 

vvoUle  have  that  other. 
Tho  cam  Cjamelyn  •  ho  under  woode-rys, 
And  broughte  with  him  •  his  yonge  men 

of  prys. 
'  I     see     wel,'   seyde     Gamelyn  • '  the 

Justice  is  set ;  805 

Go  aforn,  Adam  •  and  loke  how  it  spet.' 
Adam  \>ente  into  the  halle  •  and  loked  al 

aboute, 
lie  seyh  there  stonde  •  lordes  grete  and 

stoute, 
And    sir    Ote    Ids    brother  •  fetered    wel 

fast; 
Tho  went  Adam  out  of  halle  "  as  he  were 

agast.  Sio 

Adam  said  to  Gamelyn  •  and  to  his  felawes 

alle, 
•  Sir  Ote   stant   y-fetered '  in   the   moot- 

halle.' 
'Yonge    men,'  seide    Gamelyn  •' this  ye 

heeren  alle; 
Sire   Ote   stant   y-fetered  •  in  the  moot- 

halle. 
If  god  yif  us  grace  •  wel  for  to  doo,   815 
He  schal  it  abegge  •  that  broughte  him 

ther-too.' 
Thanne  sayde  Adam  •  that  lokkes  hadde 

hore, 
'  Cristes   curs   mote   he    have  •  that  him 

bond  so  sore  ! 
And   thou   wilt,   Gamelyn  •  do    after  my 

reed, 
Ther  is  noon  in    the    halle  •  schal    here 

awey  his  heed.'  820 

'  Adam,'  seyde  Gamelyn  ■  '  we  wiln  nought 

don  so, 
We  wil  slee  the  giltif  •  and  lat  the  other 

go- 
I  wil  into  the  halle  •  and  with  the  lustice 

speke; 
On    hem    that    ben    gultif'I    wil    ben 

awreke. 
Lat  non  scape  at  the  dore  "  take,  yonge 

men,  yeme;  825 

For  I  wil  be  lustice  this  day  •  domes  for 

to  deme. 
God    spede    me    this    day '  at    my    newe 

werk ! 


Adam,  com  on  with  me  •  for  thou  schalt 

be  my  clerk.' 
His  men  answereden  him  •  and  bade  him 

(loon  his  best, 
'  iVnd   if   thou  to    us   have    neede  •  IIkju 

schalt  finde  us  prest;  850 

We  wiln  stande  with  thee  •  whyl  that  we 

may  dure, 
And  but  we  werke    manly  ■  pay  us  non 

hure.' 
•Yonge  men,'  seyde  Gamelyn  •  'so  mot  I 

wel  thee  ! 
As   trusty   a   maister  •  ye   schal  finde  of 

me.' 
Right     there    the     lustice  •  sat     in     the 

halle,  855 

In     wente     Gamelyn    •    amonges     hem 

alle. 
Gamelyn  leet  unfetere  •  his  brother  out 

of  bende. 
Thanne  seyde  sire  Ote  •  his  brother  that 

\\as  hcnde, 
*  Thou  haddest  almost,  Gamelyn  •  dwelled 

to  longe. 
For    the    quest    is    oute    on    me  •  that    I 

schulde  honge.'  840 

'  Brother,'    seyde   Gamelyn  • '  so  god  yif 

me  good  rest ! 
This  day  they  sehuln  ben  hanged  •  that 

X   ben  on  thy  quest; 
And  the  lustice  bothe  •  that  is  the  lugge- 

man. 
And  the  scherreve  bothe  •  thurgh  him   it 

bigan.' 
Thanne    seyde    Gamelyn  •  to     the    lus- 

tise,  845 

'Now   is    thy   power   y-don  •  thou    most 

ncdes  arise; 
Thovv  hast  yeven  domes  •  that    ben  yvel 

(light, 
I  wil  sittcn  in  thy  sete  •  and  dressen  hem 

aright.' 
The  lustice  sat  stille  •  and  roos  nought 

aiioon; 
And  Gamelyn  cleved  •  [a-two]  hischeeke- 

boon;  850 

Gamelyn  took  him  in   his   arm  •  and   no 

more  spak, 
]3ut   threw  him  over  the  barre  *  and  his 

arm  to-brak. 
Durste  non  to  Gamelyn  *  seye  but  good, 
P\)r  ferd  of  the  company  ■  that  wilhoute 

stood. 


794 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


[855-902. 


Gamelyn  sette  him  doun  ■  in  the  Justices 

sect,  855 

And  sire    Ote    his    brother  by  him  •  and 

Adam  at  his  feet. 
Whan  Gamelyn  was  y-set  •  in  the  lustices 

stede, 
Herkneth    of    a   bourde  •  that   Gamelyn 

dede. 
He  leet  fetre  the    Justice  •  and  his  false 

brother, 
And  dede  hem  come  to  the  barre  •  that 

oon  with  that  other.  860 

Tho  Gamelyn  hadde  thus  y-doon  •  hadde 

he  no  reste, 
Til  he  had  enquered  •  who  was   on   the 

queste 
For  to  deme  his  brother  •  sir  Ote,  for  to 

honge; 
Er    he    wiste     which     they    were  •  him 

thoughte  ful  longe. 
But  as  sone  as  Gamelyn  •  wiste  wher  they 

were,  865 

He   dede    hem    everichone  •  feteren    in- 

feere, 
And  bringen  hem  to  the  barre  •  and  sette 

hem  in  rewe; 
'  By  my  faith  ! '  seyde  the  lustice  •  '  the 

scherreve  is  a  schrewe  ! ' 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn  •  to  the  lustise, 
'Thou   hast   y-yeve  domes  •  of  the  wors 

assise;  870 

And    the   twelve  sisours  •  that  weren  of 

the  queste, 
They  schul  ben  hanged  this  day  *  so  have 

I  good  reste  ! ' 
Thanne   seide    the   scherreve  *  to   yonge 

Gamelyn, 
'  Lord,    I    crye    the    mercy '  brother   art 

thou  myn.' 
'Therfore,'  seyde  Gamelyn  •' have    thou 

Cristes  curs,  875 

For,  and  thou  were  maister  •  yit  I  schulde 

have  wors.' 
For  to  make  short  tale  •  and  nought  to 

tarie  longe. 
He  ordeyned  him  a  queste  •  of  his  men 

so  stronge; 


The    lustice    and    the    scherreve  •  bothe 

honged  hye. 
To  weyven  with  the  ropes  •  and  with  the 

winde  drye;  880 

And  the  twelve  sisours  •  (sorwe  have  that 

rekke  !  ) 
Alle   they   were   hanged  •  faste    by    the 

nekke. 
Thus  ended  the    false    knight  •  with    his 

treccherye. 
That  ever  hadde  y-lad  his  lyf  •  in  falsnes 

and  folye. 
He  was  hanged  by  the  nekke  •  and  nought 

by  the  purs;  885 

That  was  the  meede  that   he  hadde  •  for 

his  fadres  curs. 
Sire  Ote  was  eldest  •  and  Gamelyn  was 

They  wenten  with  here  •  frendes  even  to 

the  king; 
They  made   pees  with  the  king  •  of  the 

best  assise. 
The  king  loved  wel  sir  Ote  •  and  made 

him  lustise.  890 

And    after,    the    king   made     Gamelyn  • 

bothe  in  est  and  west. 
Chief  lustice  "  of  al  his  free  forest; 
Alle   his    wighte    yonge    men  •  the    king 

foryaf  here  gilt, 
And  sitthen  in  good  office  •  the  king  hem 

hath  y-pilt. 
Thus   won    Gamelyn  •  his    lond    and   his 

leede,  895 

And  wrak  him  of  his  enemys  •  and  quitte 

hem  here  meede; 
And  sire  Ote  his  brother  •  made  him  his 

heir, 
And  siththen   wedded   Gamelyn  •  a   wyf 

bothe  good  and  feyr; 
They  lived  en  to-gidere  •  whyl  that  Crist 

wolde, 
And  sithen  was  Gamelyn  •  graven  under 

molde.  900 

And  so  schal  we  alle  •  may  ther  no  man 

flee: 
God    bringe    us    to    the   loye  ■  that    ever 

schal  be ! 


GLOSSARIAL     INDEX. 


The  references  in  this  index  are  governed  by  the  following  rules:  — 

The  letter  K.  refers  to  "  The  Romaunt  of  the  Rose."  Thus,  R.  150  indicates  line  150  of  the 
"  Roinaunt." 

Tlie  Minor  Poems  are  denoted  by  numerals  and  Arabic  figures.  Thus,  Anvelt,  M.  P.  iii.  1165, 
indicates  Minor  Poem,  No.  iii.,  line  1165. 

The  five  books  of  Boethius  are  denoted  by  Bo.  I.,  Bo.  II.,  Bo.  III.,  Bo.  IV.,  Bo.  V.  respectively, 
the  prose  and  metrical  sections  being  denoted  by  p.  and  m.  Thus,  Felliche,  Bo.  II.  m.  iii.  16,  indi- 
c.ites  Boethius,  Book  II.,  metre  iii.,  line  16. 

The  five  books  of  Troilus  are  denoted  by  T.  i.,  T.  ii.,  T.  iii.,  T.  iv.,  T.  v.  Thus,  T.  i.  754 
indicates  Troilus,  book  i.,  line  754. 

"  The  House  of  Fame  "  is  denoted   by  H.  F.     Thus,  H.  F.  64  indicates  House  of  Fame,  line  64. 

"The  Legend  of  Good  Women"  is  denoted  by  L.  L.  (A)  refers  to  Legend,  etc.,  of  the  text  in 
the  left-hand  column.     Thus,  L.  (A)  80  refers  to  Legend,  line  80,  of  the  text  in  the  left  hand  column. 

The  two  books  of  the  Astrolabe  are  denoted  by  As  i.  and  ii.,  section  and  line.  Thus,  As.  i.  6,  4 
indicates  Astrolabe,  book  i..  section  6,  line  4.      Prol.  refers  to  the  Prologue. 

The  Canterbury  Tales  are  referred  to  by  the  letters  A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  F,  G,  H,  I  (without  periods), 
the  various  groups  into  which  the  Tales  are  divided.      Thus,  C  8  indicates  Group  C,  line  8. 

Abbreviations. — The  grammatical  abbreviations  s.,  adj.,  and  adv.^ior  substantive,  adjective, 
and  adverb,  will  be  re.idily  understood.  .Special  abbreviations  are  v.,  verb  in  the  infinitive;  />r.  s. 
(and//,  s.)  mean  the  third  person  singular  of  the  present  (and  past)  tense,  except  when  1  or  2  (first 
person  or  second  person)  is  prefixed;  /r.  //.  (and//.  //.)  mean  likewise  the  third  person  plural  of 
the  present  (and  past)  tense;  iiiip.s.  means  second  person  singular  of  the  imperative  mood;  and 
imp.  pi. ,  second  person  plural  of  the  same. 


A. 

A,  art.  a;  one  and  the  same,  M.  P.  xxi.  5;  one, 
T.  iv.  1407;  about,  some,  L.  2075;  al  a,  the 
whole  of  a,  E  1165. 

A,  interj.  ah!     R.  2627;  M.  P.  iii.  213. 

A,  prep,  on,  in,  for;  a-iiight,  in  the  night,  by 
night,  G  880;  now  a  dayes,  now  in  these  days, 
E  1 164;  a-mortve,  Pi.%i-z\  a  Goddes  name,'\xi 
God's  name,  A  854. 

Abaissen,^<'r.  to  be  dismayed.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vii.89. 

Abak,  adv.  aback,  back,  L.  864;  backwards, 
15  2017. 

Abakward,  adv.  backward.  Bo.  III.  m.  xii.  74. 

Abasshed,//.  abashed,  confused,  M.  P.  v.  447; 
ashamed,  disconcerted,  B  568. 

Abate,//,  enfeebled,  Bo.  III.  p.  v.  57. 

Abaved, //.  confounded,  disconcerted,  M.  P.  iii. 
614 

Abawed,//.  abashed,  confounded,  R.  3646. 

Abaysshed,  Abayst,  Abaysed,//.  abashed,  dis- 
concerted, T.  iii.  1233;   E317;  amazed,  E  1 108. 

Abbay,  s.  abbey,  B  1814. 

Abegge,  V.  atone  for,  A  3938. 

Abet,  .r.  instigation,  T.  ii.  357. 

Abhominaciouns,  s.  pi.  abominations,  horrible 
occurrences,  B  88. 


Abit,/r.  J.  {for  abideth),  abides,  G  1175. 
Abit,  s.  habit,  dress,  R.  4914;  Abite,  L.  (A)  146. 
Able,  adj.  capable  of  receiving,  fit  for,  M.  P.  iii. 

779;  prepared,  deemed  deserving,  M.  P.  i.  184; 

fit,  L.  320;  fit,  capable,  adapted,  A  167. 
Ablinge,//-.  pt.  enabling,  lifting,  Bo.  III.  m.  ix. 

42;  fitting,  Bo.  I.  m.  vi.  22. 
Ablucions,  s.  pi.  ablutions,  washings,  G  856. 
Aboght,  Abought.    See  Abye. 
AbOOd, //.  s.  expected,  M.  P.  iii.   247;    abode, 

stopped,  H.  F.  1602;   remained,  waited,  L.  309. 
Abood,  s.  abiding,  delay,  A  965;  Abodes,  //.  T. 

iii.  854. 
Aboute,  adv.  around,  here  and  there,  M.  P.  v. 

247. 
Abouten, /r^/.  about,  around,  near,  E  1106. 
Aboven,  adv.  uppermost  in  luck,  R.  4352. 
Aboven,/r^/.  above,  E  826. 
Abrayde.    See  Abreyde. 
Abregginge,  s.  abridging,  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  102. 
A-breyde,  v.  awake,  start,  T.  iii.  1113;  awake, 

come  to  my  senses,  H.  F.  559;  //.  s.  started, 

awoke,  E  1061 ;  Abreyd,  i  //.  j.  started  from 

sleep,  H.  F.  no;    Abrayd,  //.  s.  started  up, 

M.  P.  iii.  192. 
Abroche,  v.  broach,  D  177. 
Abrood,  adv.  abroad,  i.e.  wide  open,  F  441. 


795 


796 


GLOSRARIAL   INDEX. 


Abusioun,  s.  an  abuse,  scandal,  T.  iv.  990,  1060; 
deceit,  H  214. 

Abyden,  -d.  await,  M.  P.  i.  131;  wait  for,  H.  F. 
1086;  Abyde,  v.  to  remain,  wait,  E  1106; 
Abiden,  //.  waited.  Bo.  III.  p.  ix.  221; 
Abydeth,  imp.pl.  B  1175;  Abyding, /r.  pt. 
awaiting,  E  757. 

Abydinge,  i.  expectation.  Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  72. 

Abye,  V.  pay  for,  C  756;  pr.  pi.  undergo,  Bo. 
IV.  p.  iv.  96;  Aboght,  pp.  bought  dearly,  L. 
1387;  paid  for,  L.  2483;  redeemed,  atoned  for, 
C  503;  Abought,//.  purchased,  M.  P.  xviii.  37. 

Accesse,  s.  fever-fit,  T.  ii.  1543. 

Accident,  s.  occurrence,  T.  iii.  gi8;  unusual  ap- 
pearance, E607;  outward  appearance,  C  539. 

Accidie,  .r.  moral  sloth,  I  677. 

Accioun,  s.  action,  i.e.  accusation,  M.  P.  i.  20. 

Accordaunt,  adj.  agreeable  to,  A  37. 

Accorde,  pr.  s.  subj.  may  agree,  G  638;  Ac- 
corded,//, agreed,  L.  1635;  Accordeth, /r.  s. 
agrees,  beseems,  L.  2583.     See  Acorde. 

Accusement,  s.  accusation,  T.  iv.  556. 

Accusour,  i.  accuser,  L.  353. 

Achat,  .y.  buying,  A  571. 

Achatours,  s.  buyers,  A  568. 

A  chekked, //.  checked,  hindered,  H.  F.  2093. 

Acheve,  v.  achieve,  L.  1614. 

Achoked,//.  choked,  L.  2008. 

Acloyeth,/r.  .?.  overburdens,  M.  P.  v.  517. 

A-COmpas,  adv.  in  a  circle,  L.  300. 

Acomplisshe,  pr.  s.  subj.  fulfil,  comprehend, 
Bo.  III.  p.  X.  200. 

Acord,  Acorde,  i.  harmony,  agreement,  concord, 
M.  P.  v.  381;  in  acord,  in  tune,  M.  P.  v. 
197;  al  of  oon  acorde,  in  tune,  M.  P.  iii.  305; 
agreement,  L.  159. 

Acordable,  adj.  harmonious.  Bo.  II.  m.  viii.  25. 

Acordant  to,  in  harmony  with,  M.  P.  v.  203. 

Acordaunce,  s.  concord,  Bo.  II.  m.  viii.  16. 

Acorde,  i  pr.  s.  grant,  allow,  L.  3;  Acordeth, 
pr.  s.  agrees,  concerns,  L.  955;  Acordeden, 
pt.pl.  agreed,  L.  168,  1739;  Acorden,  pr.  pi. 
agree,  B  2137;  Acording,  pr.  pt.  agreeing,  B 
1737.    See  Accorde. 

Acounte,  ger.  to  reckon  up,  M.  P.  xxii.  18;  v. 
consider,  B  3591 ;  Acounted,  pt.  s.  valued, 
cared,  M.  P.  iii.  1237;  Acountedest,  2  //.  i. 
didst  reckon.  Bo.  II.  p.  v.  125. 

Acoye,  V.  caress,  appease,  R.  3564;  Acoyede, 
pt.  s.  cares.sed,  Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  80. 

Acquitaunce,  s.  acquittance,  release,  M.  P.  i.  60. 

Acquyte,  v.  acquit  one's  self,  E  936;  Acquiteth, 
imp  pi.  B  37. 

Acurse,  v.  accurse,  T.  iii.  1072. 

Acustomaunce,  .r.  system  of  habits,  habitual 
method  of  life,  H.  F.  28;  had  of  a.,  was  ac- 
customed, B.  3701. 

Adamant,  s.  ironstone,  A  1990. 


Adamaunt,  j.  magnet,  R.  1182. 
Adamauntes,//.  loadstones,  M.  P.  v.  148. 
Adawe,  V.  awake,  T.  iii.  1120. 
Adjeccioun,  .r.  addition.  Bo.  V.  p   vi.  238 
Adoun,  adv.  adown,  down,  M.  P.  ii.  15;  down 

below,  H.  F.  889;  downwards,  down,  L.  178, 

1726;  at  the  bottom,  G  779;  down,  15  3630. 
A-dred,  //.  afraid,  frightened,  M.   P.  iii.   1190; 

A-drad,  M.  P.  iii.  493;   H.  F.  928. 
Adressinge,  .s.  directing,  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  in. 
Advertence,  j-.  attention,  G  467. 
Advocacyes,  s.  pi.  pleas,  T.  ii.  1469. 
A-fer,  adv.  afar,  H.  F.  1215;  L.  212. 
Aferd,//.  afraid,  A  628;  Afered,//.  frightened, 

afraid,  L.  (A)  53. 
Affeccioun,  s.  desire,  L.  1522;  A  1158. 
Affectis,  i'.  //.  desires,  T.  iii.  1391. 
Alfermed,//.  agreed  upon,  L.  790. 
Affray,  s.  affright,  fright,  M.  P.  iv.  214;   H.  F. 

553;   fear,  terror,  B  1137;  Afray,  dread,  M.  P. 

vii.  334. 
Affrayed,//.  frightened,  roused,  M.  P.  iii.  296. 
Affye,  V.  trust,  R.  3155. 
Affyle,  V.  polish,  A  712. 
Aforn,  adv.  before,  R.  3614. 
Afor-yeyn,/rf/.  opposite,  T.  ii.  ii83. 
After, /rf/.  according  to,  M.  P.  i.  143;   L.  2651; 

in    accordance   with,  M.  P.  viii.  4;    after,  by 

inheritance   from,  L.   1072;   in  expectation  of, 

for,  B  467;    after  as,  according  as,  M.  P.  v. 

216;  after  me,  according  to  my  command,  E 

327;  after  the  yeer,  according  to  the  time  of 

year,  F  47. 
After-tales,  adv.  afterwards,  T.  iii.  224. 
Afyne,  adv.  finally,  R.  3690. 
A-fyr,  adv.  on  fire,  M.  P.  i.  94;  A-fyre,  H.  F. 

1858;   L.  2493. 
Again, /re/,  when  exposed  to,  L.  2426;  Agayn, 

in  comparison  with,  L.  189;  towards,  L.  112; 

against.  B  580;  near,  G  1279;  to  meet,  B  391;  1 

Ageyn,  against,  F  142.     See  Agein.  I 

Agame,  adv.  in  play,  in  jest,  in  mockery,  M.  P. 

iv.  277. 
Agast.  //.  terrified,  M.  P.  vii.  316;   afraid,  L. 

1534;  Agaste,/r.  s.  deters,  frightens.  Bo.  IV. 

p.  vi.  354;  V.  terrify,  T.  ii.  901;  Agasteth,//-.  s. 

frightens,  L.  1171. 
Agaynes, /re/,  against,  M.  P.  iii.  16;  Agayns, 

towards,  to  meet,  E  911;   before,  in  presence 

of,  C  743.     See  Again. 
Agayn-ward,  adv.  back  again,  B  441. 
Agein, /r?/.  against,  towards,  turned  towards, 

L.  48.     See  Again. 
Ages,  pi   times,  periods,  B  3177. 
Ageyns,  prep,  against,  L.  330. 
Aggreggeth,  v.  aggravates,  B  2477;    Agregge- 

den,//.  aggravated,  B  2209. 
I    Agilten,  v.  do  wrong,  L.    436;    Agilte,  pt.   s. 


i 


GLOS^ARIAL  INDEX. 


797 


wrongly  committed,  L.  2385;  Agilt,  //.  done 
wrong,  L.  463;  offended,  M.  P.  i.  122. 

Ago,  //.  gone  away,  M.  P.  vii.  61 ;  gone,  dead, 
L.  916;  past,  L.  1766;  to  ben  ago,  to  be  off, 
M.  P.  V.  465;  Agoon,  passed  away,  dead,  M.  P. 
iii.  479;  E  631;  Agon,//,  gone  away,  C  810; 
Agoon,  //.  as  adv.  ago,  C  436. 

Agreable,  -es,//.  pleasant,  Ho.  III.  m.  ii.  34. 

Agreablely,  aJz'  complacently,  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  156. 

Agreabletee,  .f.  equability,  Ijo.  II.  p.  iv.  142. 

Agree,  ->.  please,  T.  i.  409. 

A-gref,  aiiz\  grievously,  amiss,  M.  P.  v.  543. 
Lit.  '  in  grief.' 

Agreved,//.  grieved,  vexed,  L.  345;  aggrieved, 
E  500. 

Agrief,  nd7'.  sorrowfully,  B  4083. 

Agroos,//.  s.  shuddered,  was  terrified,  was  seized 
with  fear,  L   830;   grew  terrified,  L.  2314. 

Agroted,  //.  surfeited,  cloyed,  L.  2454. 

Agryse,  ?'.  feel  terror,  H.  F.  210;  Agrysen,  v. 
shudder,  tremble,  feel  terror.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  25; 
2  /r.  i-.  dreadest.  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  76;  pr.  s. 
trembles,  shivers.  Bo.  I.  m.  vi.  12;  A-grisen, 
//.  filled  with  dread.  Bo.  III.  p.  i.  19. 

Aguiler,  s.  needle-case,  R.  98. 

Aiourne,  />«/.  s.  adjourn,  summon  on  another 
day,  M.  P.  i.  158. 

Ajuged,//.,'  a.  biforn,  prejudged.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv. 
124. 

Ake,^^r.  to  ache,  H.  F.  632;  Pi\x.vi, pr.  pi.  ache, 
B2113. 

Aketoun,  s.  a  short  sleeveless  tunic,  worn  under 
the  hauberk,  B  2050. 

Aknowe,  //.  conscious;  atn  aknowe,  I  acknowl- 
edge. Bo   I.  p.  iv.  190. 

Akornes,  i  //.  fruits,  Bo.  IV.  m    iii.  32. 

AI,  adz'.  quite,  M.  P.  v.  no;  although,  M  P.  i. 
45;  for  all  that,  M.  P.  iv.  274;  albeit,  M.  P. 
xiii.  7;  nl  and  somme.  each  and  all,  all,  the 
whole,  M.  P.  vii.  26;  al  be,  although,  M.  P. 
V.  436;  al  by  con  assent,  quite  with  one  accord, 
M.  P.  v.  557;  al  day,  all  the  day,  M.  P.  iii. 
1105;  al  thus,  exactly  thus,  M.  P.  v.  30;  Al, 
quite,  entirely,  L.  1765;  Al,  completely,  B 
3215;  all  blood  =  completely  covered  with 
blood,  B  1967. 

Al,  adj.  all;  al  and  so»t,  the  whole  gist  of  the 
matter,  the  whole  matter,  L.  997;  al  a,  the 
whole  of,  G  996;  at  al,  in  every  respect,  E 
1222;  at  all,  wholly,  C  633;  Alle,  //.  B  118; 
alle  and  some,  one  and  all,  E  941. 

Al,  coiij.  although,  even  if,  L.  58;  whether,  G 
846;   although,  E  99:  Also  =  as,  H80. 

Al,  .s.  awl,  M.  P.  xiii.  11. 

Alambyk,  s.  alembic,  T.  iv.  520. 

AlauntS,  s.  boarhounds,  A  2148. 

Alayes,  s.  pi.  alloy,  E  1167. 

Albificacioun,  s.  albificatiun,  whitening,  G  805. 


Alday,  adv.  every  day,  at  any  time,  M.  P.  iv. 

237;  always,  L.  (A)  1250;  Al  day  .continually, 

F  481;  always,  B  1702. 
Alder-,  prejix,  of  all;  our  alder,  of  us  all,  R. 

6948;   M.  P.  i.  84;   L.  298. 
Alderbest,  adv.  best  of  all,  M.  P.  iii   87. 
Alder-beste,  adj.  best  of  all,  M.  P.  iii.  246. 
Alderfaireste,  adj.  /em.  fairest  of  all,  M.  P.  iii. 

1050. 
Alderfirst,  adv.  for  the  first  time.  Bo.  1.  p.  iii. 

28;  first  of  all,  H.  F.  1429:   Alderfirste,  first  of 

all,  L.  2635. 
Aldermost,  adv.  most  of  all,  L.  2117.    See  Alder. 
Alder-next,  nearest  of  all,  next,  M.  P.  v.  244. 
Ale  and  breed,  drink  and  meat,  P>  2062. 
Alegge,  \  pr.  s.  allege,  adduce,  H.  F.  314. 
Alemandres,  s.  pi.  almond  trees,  R.  1363. 
Alembykes, //.  alembics,  G  794. 
Alestake,  i.  a  stake  projecting  from  an  ale-house 

by  way  of  a  sign,  A  667. 
Aley,  s.  an  alley,  B  1758. 

Aleys, .?.//.  fruit  of  the  wild  service  tree,  R.  1377. 
Algate,  adv.  any  way,  at  any  rate,  M.  P.  iii. 

887;   at  any  rate.  L.  361 ;  C292;   G318;  never- 
theless, M.  P.  ii.   115;   L.  238;  at  all  hazards, 

H.  F.  943;   in  all  respects,  E  855. 
Algates,  adzi.  at  any  rate,  M.  P.  iii.  1171;  any- 
way, T.  iii.   24;   at  any  rate,  at  all   costs,   L. 

594;   at  any  rate,  in  every  way,  wholly,  F  246; 

nevertheless,  all  the  same,  at  any  rate,  B  520; 

G  1096. 
Aliene,  v.  alienate.  Bo.  I.  p.  vi.  68. 
Alighte.  //.  s.  descended,  M.  P.  i.  161. 
Alkamistre,  s.  alchemist,  G  1204. 
Alle,  dat.;  at  alle,  in  any  and  every  case,  M.  P. 

iv.  37  ;  on  alle  thing,  in  any  case,  M.  P.  iii.  141. 
Alleggith,   V.    alleviate    (aleggith),    R.    2588; 

Allegged,  //.  allayed.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iv.  20. 
Aller,  gen.  pi.  (/Al,  A  823. 
AUiaunce,   .?.    alliance,    kindred,   M.    P.   i.    58; 

marriage,  espousal,  E  357. 
AUone,  alone,  M.  P.  iv.  141;  v.  455. 
Allow,  I  pr.  s.  I  approve,  I  applaud,  F  676. 
Allye,  .f.  relative,  B  3593. 
Almesse,  s.  alms,  B  168. 
Almest,  adv.  almost,  B  1948. 
Almicanteras,  s.  pi.  circles  or  parallels  of  alti 

tude.  As.  i.  18,  2. 
Almury,  j.  the  pointer  of  an  astrolabe.  As.  i.  22,  7. 
A-lofte,  adv.  aloft,  T.  i.  950. 
A-londe,  adv.   on  land,  ashore,   L.    2166;     him 

were  lever  a-londe,   he  would   rather   be  on 

land,  L.  2413. 
Aloon,  alone;  lieraloon,  all  by  herself,  L.  2378. 
Alose,  V.  praise,  T.  iv.  1473;  Alosed,//.  praise, 

R.  2354. 
Al-out,  adv.  entirely,  R.  4326. 
Al-OUterly,  adv.  quite  utterly,  quite  absolutely, 


798 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


M.  P.  iii.  1244;  L.  626.    Lit.  '  all  utterly.'  .See 
Al  utterly. 

Alpes,  s.  pi.  bullfinches,  R.  658. 

AlS,  adv.  as,  M.  P.  iv.  69;  also,  M.  P.  iii.  728; 

Al-so,  as,  M.    P.   iii.    1064;     (in  expressing  a 

wish),  vii.  202;  as  sure  as,  H.  F.  273. 
Al-so,  cojij.  as,  B  396;   H  80. 
Alswa,  adv.  also,  A  4085. 
Alther-fastest,  adv.   sup.  as   fast  as  possible, 

H.  F.  2131. 
Altherfirst,  adv.  first  of  all,  at  first,  H.  F.  1368. 
Alther-firste,  adj.  first  of  all,  M    P.  iii.  1173. 
Altitude,  s.  the  elevation  of  a  star,  etc.,  above 

the  horizon.  As.  i.  i,  6;   13,  6. 
Al  to-shar,//.  s.  cut  in  pieces,  R.  1858. 
Al-utterly,   adv.    quite   absolutely,   beyond   all 

doubt,  H.  F.  296.     See  Al-OUterly. 
Alwey,  adv.  continually,  always,  E  458;  cease- 
lessly, F  422;   III. 
Alwey,  adv.  at  all  events,  T.  v.  298. 
A-lyve,  adv.  alive,  M.  P.  iii.  915. 
Am,  in  phr.  it  am  I;   it  is  I,  B  1109. 
Amadrides,  s.pl.  hamadryads,  A  2928. 
Amalgaming,  j.  the  formation  of  an  amalgam, 

G  771. 
Amased,//.  amazed,  G  935. 
A-mayed, //.  dismayed,  T.  iv.  641. 
Ambages,  j.  //.  duplicities,  T.  v.  897. 
Ambel,  .r.   amble;    att  a.,   in  an   amble,  at  an 

ambling  place,  B  2075. 
Ambes  as,  double  aces,  B  124. 
Amblere,  s.  easy-paced  horse,  A  469. 
Ameled,//.  enamelled,  R.  1080. 
Amende,  v.  to  improve,  F  197;   Amended,  //. 

surpassed,  B.  3444;  pt.  s.  improved,  did  good, 

M.  P.  iii.  1102. 
Amenuse,  v.  diminish,  I  360  ;  depreciate,  I  496. 
Amerciments,  s.  pi.  fines,  I  752. 
Amesureth, /r.  s.  measures.  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  104. 
Ameved,  pt.    s.    moved,  changed  ;    nought  a., 

changed  not,   altered  not,  E  498  ;    Amoeved, 

//.  perturbed,  I  670. 
Amidde,  prep,  amid,  in  the  midst  of,  F  409. 
Amiddes,  adv.  in  the  midst,  M.  P.  v.  277. 
Amis,  ad?),  amiss,  M.  P.  iii.   1141;  seyde  amis, 

gave   an   unwelcome   answer,   M.  P.    v.    446; 

wrongly,  B  3370;  A-mis,  amiss,  wrong,  L  1291. 
Amonesten,  v.  warn,  admonish,  I  76. 
Amonges,  adv.  sometimes,  variously,  Bo.  II.  p. 

i.  131. 
Amonges,  prep,  amongst,  B  3344;  G  608. 
Amonicioun,  i.  pointing  out,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  II. 
Amorettes,  i,  //.  amorous  girls,  R.  892;   amour- 
ettes, R.  4755. 
A-morwe,  Amorwe,  in  the  morning,  M.  P.  iii. 

1103;   H.  F.  2106. 
Amounteth,  pr.  s.  means,  B  569;  amounts  to, 
F  108. 


Amphibologyes,.r.//.  equivocations,  T.  iv.  1406. 

Amy,  .r.  friend,  C  318. 

An,  a;   An  eighte  busshels,  a  quantity  equal  to 

eight  bushels,  C  771. 
Ku,  prep,  on,  L.  1191. 
Ancille,  s.  handmaiden,  M.  P.  i.  log. 
Ancre,  j.  anchor,  M.  P.  x.  38. 
And,  <rt>«y.  if,  M.  P.  vi.  112;  L.  319,  1790;  E2433; 

and  if,  if,  M.  P.  iii.  548. 
Angerly,  adv.  grievously,  R.  3511. 
Angle-hook,  j.  fish-hook,  M.  p.  iv.  238. 
Angres,  s.  pi.  griefs,  R.  2554. 
Angry,  adj.  grievous,  R.  2628. 
Anguissh,  s.  anxiety.  Bo.  III.  p,  iii.  38. 
Anguissheth,  pr.  s.  wounds,  pains.  Bo.  Ill,  m. 

vii.  I. 
Anguysschous,  Angwyssous,  adj.  anxious.  Bo. 

II.  m.  V.  37;   Bo.  III.  p.  i,  9. 
Anhanged,  //.  hung,  B  3945,  3949. 
An  hye,  on  high,  H.  F.  215. 
Anientissed,//.  annihilated,  B  2438. 
A-night,  adv.  by  night,  at  night,  L.  1292,  1475; 

E  464. 
Anker,  s.  anchor,  R.  3780;  L.  2501;  anchoress, 

R.  6348. 
Anlas,  s.  dagger,  A  357. 
Annexed,//,  attached,  C  482. 
Annueleer,  i.  a  priest  who  received  annual  pay- 
ments, a  chaplain,  G  1012. 
Annunciat,  //.  pre-announced,  i.e.  whose  birth 

was  foretold,  B  3205. 
Anon,  adv.  immediately,  forthwith,  B  326;  C864. 
Anon-right,   adv.  immediately,  M.  P.  iii.  354; 

L.  115;  G  1141;  Anoon-right,  H.  F.  132. 
Anoon,  adv.  immediately,  M.  P.  iii.  1299;  Anon, 

B34. 
Anoy,  .s.  torture.  Bo.  III.  m.  xii.  44. 
Anoye,  v.\  pr.  s.  annoys,  vexes,  M.  P.  v.  518; 

Anoyeth,  pr.  s.  impers.  it  annoys,  vexes,  G 

1036. 
Answere,  v.  be  suitable  for.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  78; 

Answerden,  pt.  pi.    answered,   L.    1847;   An- 

swerde,//.  j.  answered,  E  21. 
Antem,  s.  anthem,  B  1850. 
Antiphoner,  j.  anthem-book,  B  1709. 
Anvelt,  J.  anvil,  M.  P.  iii.  1165. 
Aornement,  j.  adornment,  I  432. 
Apaire,  v.  deteriorate,  grow  worse,  H.  F.  756. 
Apalled.    See  Appalled. 
Aparaile.    See  Apparaile. 
Aparailements,  i.  pi.  ornaments,  Bo.  II.  p.  v. 

201. 
Aparayles,  s.  pi.  ornaments.  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  78. 
Aparceyve.    See  Aperceyve. 
Apassed,//.  passed  away.  Bo.  II.  p.  v.  39. 
Apayd,  Apayed,  //.  pleased,  satisfied,  L.   766; 

T.  i.   649;  evel  apayd,  ill-pleased,  M.  P.  vii, 

123;    L.  80;   G  921. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


789 


Apayre.    See  Apeiren. 

Apayse.    See  Apese. 

Ape,  J',  ape,  H.   F.   1212;  dupe,  G  1313;  Apes, 

//.  H.  K.  1806. 
Aperceyve,  z>.  to  perceive,  E  600;  Aperceyveth, 

pr.  s.  E  1018. 
Aperceyvinges,  //.    perceptions,   observations, 

F  286. 
Apert,  Aperte,  aJv.  openly,  F  531. 
Apertenant,  ai/j.  belonging  to,  such  as  belongs 

to,  iM.  P.  ii.  70;   Apertenaunt,  B  3505. 
Apertenen,  t.  belong  to,  I  410. 

l_         Apertening,/r. //    appertaining,  G  785. 

Apertinent,  «<//'.  a])pcrtaining,  suitable,  E  loio. 
Apertly,  nih'.  openly,  clearly,  I  294. 
Apese,  Apeise,  v.  appease,  pacify,  E  433;  H  98. 
Apeseth,  /«;/.  //.  appease,  mitigate,  M.  P.  iv.  10. 
Apeyren,  ?'.  impair,  depreciate,  1  1078;  A  3147; 

//.  impaired.  Bo.  I.  p.  v.  74. 
Apeyse.    See  Apese. 
Apeysen,/r. //.  appease,  T.  iii.  22. 
Aposed.    See  Apposed. 
Apostelles,  s.  pi.  apostles,  G  1002. 
Apoynte,  adv.  exactly,  T.  v.  1620. 
Apoynte,   rejl.   v.  make  up  one's  mind,  T.  ii. 

691. 
Appalled,  pp.  made  pale  or  feeble,  F  365 ;  B  1292. 
Apparaile,  s.  apparel,  attire,  M.  P.  i.  153  ;    E 

1208. 
Apparaile,  v.  prepare,  L.  2473. 
Apparence,  i.  appearance,  seeming,  H.  F.  265  ; 

F  218. 
Appese.    See  Apese. 
Appetyteth,  pr.  s.  seeks  to  have,  desires,  L. 

1582. 
Applyen,  v.  be  attached  to,  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  16. 
Apposed,  //.  opposed,  alleged.  Bo.  I.  p.  v.  60  ; 

pt.  s.  questioned,  G  363. 
Appreved,  //.  approved,  E  1349. 
Appropred ,  //.  appropriated,  made  the  property 

of,  M.  P.  xiv.  18. 
Approwours,  s.  pi.  informers,  D  1343. 
Apyked,  //.  trimmed,  A  365. 
Aqueynte,  v.  ;  me  agueytite,  make  myself  ac- 
quainted, M.  P.  iii.  532  ;  Aqueynteden, //.  //. 

became  acquainted,  H.  F.  250. 
Arace,  v.  eradicate,  tear  away,  M.  P.  xxi.  i8  ; 

E  1 103  ;   //.  torn  away,  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  186. 
Aray,  s.  array,  dress,  M.   P.  iv.   176;  order,  E 

262  ;  ordinance,  E  670. 
Arayed,  //.  dressed,  L.  1207;   F  389  ;  arranged, 

ordered,  B  252. 
Arbitre,  .?.  will,  choice,  Bo.  V.  p.  ij;   20. 
Arblasters,  s.  pi.  crossbowmen,  R.  4196. 
Archaungel,  s.  titmouse,  K.  915. 
Arches.     See  Ark. 
Archewyves,  s.  pi.  archwives,  ruling  wives,  E 

1195. 


Ardaunt,  adj.  ardent.  Bo.  III.  m.  xii.  17;  eager, 
Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  130. 

A-rede,  v.  read,  interpret,  M.  P.  iii.  289. 

Aresoneth,  pr.  s.  controverts,  R.  6220. 

Arest,  s.  socket  of  a  spear,  A  2602. 

Areste,  s.  delay,  L.  806  ;  hesitation,  L.  1929  ; 
and  hence,  delibcrateness  of  action,  delibera- 
tion, L.  397. 

Arette,  f.  account,  attribute,  R.  3327:  A  726; 
Aretted,  //.  A  2729  ;  Aretten,  v.  impute.  Bo. 
II.  p.  iv.  15. 

Arewe,  adv.  in  a  row,  D  1254. 

Areysed,  //.  extolled,  praised,  L.  1525. 

Argoile,  i.  potter's  clay,  G  813. 

Argumenten,  pr.  pi.  argue,  B  212. 

Aright,  adv.  rightly,  properly,  F  694. 

Arist,  pr.  s.  arises,  B  265. 

Ariste,  s.  arising,  As.  ii.  12,  16. 

Ark,  s.  arc,  referring  to  the  arc  of  the  horizon 
extending  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  B  2. 

Arminge,  .1.  arming,  putting  on  of  armor,  B 
2037- 

Armipotente,  adj.  mighty  in  arms,  A  2441. 

Armlees,  adj.  armless,  without  an  arm,  B  3393. 

Artnoniak,  adj.  ammoniac;  applied  to  dole,  G 
790,  and  sal,  G  798. 

Armonye,  s.  harmony,  M.  P.  iii.  313. 

Armoure,  Armure,  s.  armor,  M.  P.  iv.  130;  B 
2009. 

Am,  pr.  pi.  are,  H.  F.  1008;   E  342. 

Aroos,  pi.  s.  arose,  stood  up,  L.  831. 

A-roume,  adv.  at  large,  in  an  open  space,  H.  F. 
540. 

-A-rowe,  adv.  in  a  row,  H.  F.  1835. 

Arrace.    See  Arace. 

Array,  Array e.    See  Aray,  Arayed. 

Arrette.    See  Arette. 

Arrivage,  .r.  coming  to  shore,  H.  F.  223. 

Arryve,  //.  s.  drove  ashore.  Bo.  IV.  m.  iii.  7. 

Ars-metrik,  s.  arithmetic,  A  1898. 

Art,  s.  kind,  sort,  E  1241. 

Art,  s.  cunning,  M.  P.  v.  245. 

Arten,  v.  constrain,  T.  i.  388. 

Artik,  adj.  arctic.  As.  i.  14,  10. 

Artow.yii^  art  thou,  H.  F.  1872. 

Arwes,  //.  arrows,  M.  P.  v.  212;  A  107. 

Ar3rve.     See  Arryve. 

As,  as  if,  M.  P.  iii.  1323:  As,  so,  in  asse^'era- 
tions,  M.  P.  iii.  838,  1235;  As,  like,  B  1864; 
As,  expletive,  expressing  a  wish;  as  have, 
may  He  have,  B  1061 ;  as  lat,  pray  let,  B 
859;  rti  «/?<•/-,  according  to,  B  3555;  as  in,ie 
for,  B  3688;  as  now,  at  this  time,  F  652;  on 
the  present  occasion,  G  944;  for  the  present, 
with  the  matter  on  hand,  G  1019;  as  to,  with 
reference  to,  F  107;  as  of,  as  concerning,  M. 
P.  V.  26;  as  swythe,  at  once,  M.  P.  vii.  226; 
as  that,  as  though,  M.  P.  iii.  1200;  as  soon  as. 


S90 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


F.  615;   as  tker,  there,  M.  P.   iv.   117;   as  to 

my  ivii,  according  to  my  understanding,  M.  P. 

V.  547;  as  ferforth  as,  as  far  as,  R  19.     As  is 

short  for  Also.     See  Als. 
As,  J.  an  ace,  B  3851;  Ambes  as,  double  aces,  B 

124. 
Asay.    See  Assay. 
Ascaunce,  conj.  in  case  that,  on  the  chance  that, 

L.  2203;  adv.  perhaps,  G  838. 
'  Ascencioun,  s.  ascension,  rising  up,  G  778. 
Ascende,  v.  ascend,  rise  (a  term  in  astrology), 

I  11;  pr.  ftt.  ascending,  in  the  ascendant,  i.e. 

near  the  eastern  horizon,  F  264. 
Ascendent,   j.  ascendant,  A  417;  Ascendentes, 

//.  H.  F.   1268.     The  ascendent  is  (properly) 

that  point  of  the  zodiacal  circle  which  is  seen 

to  be  just  ascending  above  the  horizon  at  a 

given  moment. 

Ascry,  j.  shout,  T.  ii.  611. 

Asemble.    See  Assemble. 

Ash.     See  Asshe. 

Aske,/^-.  .r.  subj.  may  ask,  M.  P.  iii.  32;  Asken, 
V.  to  ask,  B  101. 

Aslake.  v.  abate,  A  3553;  //.  A  1760. 

A-slope,  adv.  aside,  crossly.  R.  4464. 

Asonder,  adv.  asunder,  apr.rt,  B  T157. 

Asp,  i^.  aspen,  A  2921;  Aspe,  L.  2648. 

Aspectes,  planetary  relations,  T.  ii.  682;  astro- 
logical aspects,  L.  2597. 

Aspre,  adj.  fierce,  hardy,  M.  P.  vii.  23;  vexa- 
tious. Bo.  111.  p.  viii.  21;  cruel,  Bo.  II.  p.  viii. 

42- 
Asprenesse,  j.  asperity.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iv.  179. 
Aspye,  i-.  spy,  C  755. 
Aspyen,  v.  espy,  T.  ii.  649. 
Assaille,  V.  to  assail,  attack,  B  3953. 
Assay,  s.  trial,  M.  P.  iii.  552;   D  290;   trial,  test, 

L.  (A)  28;  doon  his  assay,  make  his  attempt, 

L.  1594;  Assayes,;^/.  trials,  £697. 
Assaye,  v.  try,  M.  P.  iii.  574;   itu/>.  s.  let  him 

try,  E  1229;  pr.  s.  experiences.  Bo.  III.  m.  ii. 

24;     Assayed,   //.    tried,    E    1054;    Assayen, 

pr.  pi.  try,  L.  487. 
Asse,  i.  ass,  M.  P.  V.  255. 
Asseged,//.  besieged,  A  881. 
Assemble,  ^cr.   to  amass.    Bo.   III.  p.  viii.  9; 

Assembled,//,  united,  G  50. 
Assendent,  planetary  influence.  As.  ii.  4.     .See 

Ascendent 
Assent,  J.  consent,  conspiracy,  C  758. 
Asseute,  V.  agree  to,  A  374;  Assenten,  pr.  pi. 

assent,  agree,  E  176. 
Asseth,  adv.  enough;   7nake  asseth,  satisfy,  R. 

5600. 
Asshe,  s.  ash  tree,  M.  P.  v.  176. 
Assoilen,  ger.  to  discharge,  pay.  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  16; 

//.  explained.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  350;  pr.  s.  absolve, 

pardon,  C  913. 


Assolling,  s   absolution,  A  661. 

Assure,  s  assurance,  protestation,  M.  P.  vii.  331. 

Assure,   V.    make   sure;    /ler  assure,  refl.,  be 

bold  enough,  L.  908;    i  pr.   s.   comfort,  give 

confidence   to,  M.    P.  v.  448;  Assured,//,  s. 

confirmed,  B  3378. 
Assured,  adj.  settled,  self-reliant,  M.  P.  ii.  40. 
Assyse,  .r.  judgment,  M.  P.  i.  36;  assize,  A  314. 
Astate,  s.  estate.  R.  6856. 
Asterte,   zk    start    away,  get   away,    withdraw, 

M.  P.  iii.  1154;  escape,  L.  1802;  escape  from, 

L.  2338;  Asterted,//.  .r.  escaped,  B  437. 
A-Stoned,  //.    astonied,   amazed,    L.    (A)    164; 

Astonied,//.  s.  astonished,  E  316. 
Astonyeth,/r.  .r.  astonishes,  M.  P.  v.  5. 
Astonyinge,  i.  astonishment.  Bo.  IV.  p.  v.  37. 
Astored,//.  stored,  provided,  A  609. 
Astromye,  .r.  astronomy,  A  3451. 
Asure,  adj.  as  s.  blue,  M.  P.   vii.    330;    azure, 

blue,  E  254. 
Aswage,  V.  to  assuage,  B  3834. 
A-Sweved,//.  dazed,  put  to  sleep,  H.  F.  549. 
A-SWOwn,  //.  as  adv.  in  a  swoon,  M.  P.  iii.  123; 

A-swowe,  M.  P.  vii.  354;  Aswowne,  E  1079. 
A.t,  prep,  as  to,  M.  P.  vi.  114;  at  shorte  ivordes, 

briefly,  in  a  word,  M.  P.  v.  481 ;  at  erste,  adv. 

first  of  all,  H.   F.  512;   At,  prep,  at;  at  me, 

with  me,  with  respect  to  me,  B  1975;  from,  E 

653;  from,  of,  G  542,  621. 
At-after,  prep,  after,  F  302. 
Atake,  V.   to  overtake,  G  556;  //.  overtaken, 

M.  P.  iv.  55;   L.  2182. 
Ataste,  2. pr.  s.  subj.  taste,  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  44. 
Atazir,  s   evil  influence,  B  305. 
Ateint,//.  apprehended.  Bo.  III.  p.  iii.  27. 
Atempraunce,.?.  temperament.  Bo.  IV.  p  vi.  234. 
Atempre,  adj.   temperate,  mild,  M.  P.  iii.  341; 

Attempre,  M.  P.  v.  204. 
Atempre,  v.pr.  s.  attempers.  Bo   I.  m.  ii.  26. 
Atempringe,  s.  controlling,  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  ui. 
Ateyne,  v.  attain,  succeed  in,  M.  P.  iv.  161. 
Athinken,  v.  vex,  T.  v.  878. 
Atones,  adv.  at  once,  at  one  and  the  same  time, 

L.  1840;   B.  670. 
Atoon,  adv.  at  one,  E  437. 
At  point,  at  point,  ready,  T.  iv.  1638. 
At-rede,  v.  outwit,  surpass  in  advice,  A  2449. 
At-renne,  z>.  outrun,  A  2449. 
Attamed,//.  broached,  B  4008. 
ik.\.X.Q,for  at  the,  R   4192;  attefulie,  at  the  full, 

in  completeness,  B  203;   atte  lastc,  at  the  last, 

B  506;  atte  leste,  at  the  least,  at  least,  E  130. 
Attempre.    See  Atempre. 

Atteyne,  v.  to  attain,  E  447. 
Attour,  i.  attire,  R.  3718. 
Attricioun,  s.  contrition,  T.  i.  557. 
Attry,  adj.  venomous,  I  583. 
A-tweyn,  adv.  in  two,  M.  P.  iii.  1193. 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


goi 


Atwinne,  adv.  apart,  G  1170. 
A-two,  ati7'.  in  two,  asunder,  L.  758;   B  600. 
Atyr,  s.  attire,  dress,  M.  P.  v.  225. 
Auctor.    See  Auctour. 

Auctoritee,   s.   authority,   especially  of  an   es- 
teemed writer,  D  i. 
Auctour,  s.   author,  H.   F.   314;    E   1141.     See 

Autour. 
Audience,  s.  audience,  attention,  hearing,  M.  P. 

V.  308;  audience,  B  3991;  hearing,  E  329. 
Aught,  aih'.  by  any  chance,  in  any  way,  B  1034; 

at  all,  G  597. 
Augrim,  ^   arithmetical  notation.  As.  i.  8,  7. 
Augrim  stones,  arithmetical  counters,  A  3210. 
Aumener,  i.  alms-bag,  R.  2087. 
Auncestre,  j.  ancestor,  M.  P.  V.  41. 
Aungel,  s.  angel,  M.  P.  v.  191. 
Aungellyke,  adv.  like  an  angel,  L.  236. 
Auntred,  //.  s.  adventured,  A  4205. 
AuntrouS,  aJJ.  adventurous,  B  2099. 
Autentyke,  ndj.  authentic,  M.  P.  iii.  1086. 
Auter,  s.  altar,  M.  P.  v.  249. 
Autoritees,//.  authorities,  L.  (A)  83. 
Autour,  J.  author,  L.  1228:   Autours,  //.  L.  (A) 

83.     See  Auctour. 
Availeth, /»-.  s.  impers.  it  avails,  M.  P.  xi.  15. 
Avale,  V.  fall,  T.  iii.  626;  doff,  A  3122. 
Avantage,  s.  convenience,  profit;  to  don  his  a., 

to    suit    his   own    interests,    B   729;    as  adj. 

advantageous,  R  146. 
Avante.    See  Avaunte. 
Avaunce,  v.  aid,  cause  to  prosper,  H.  F.  640: 

help,  M.  P.  X.  31;   profit,  A  246;  Avaunced, 

//.  advanced,  C  4to. 
Avaunt,  adv.  forward,  R.  4790. 
Avaunt,  .f.  vaunt,  boast,  A  227. 
Avaunte,  ger.   to  extol,   H.    F.    1788;    i  pr.  s. 

boast,  M,    P.   V.  470;    Avaunte  her,  v.   boast 

herself,  M.  P.  vii.  296. 
Avauntour,  .r.  boaster,  M.  P.  v.  430. 
Avenaunt,  adj.  comely,  suitable,  R.  1263. 
Aventure,  j.   luck,  chance,  M.   P.  iv.  21;   hard 

hap,  M.  P.  iv.  199;  peril,  B  1151;  misfortune, 

L.  657;  good  aventure,  good  fortune,  M.  P.  v. 

131;    in  aventure  and  grace,  on   luck   and 

favor,  M.  P.  iv.  60;  oj^  aventure,  by  chance, 

H.   F.  2090;   Aventures,  //.  adventures,  E  15; 

accidents,  C  934. 
Aventurous,  adj    random,   Bo.   I.    p.    vi.    no; 

adventitious,  Bo.  TI.  p.  iv.  19. 
Avisee,  adj.  deliberate,  L.  1521. 
Avisement,  j.  determination,  L.  1417. 
Avisioun,  s.  vision,  H.  F.  7,  104. 
Avouterye.  s.  adultery,  M.  P.  v.  361. 
A-VOWe,  s.  vow,  avowal,  M.  P.  iii.  93. 
Avys,  s,  deliberation,  T.  iii    453;  opinion.  I  54. 
Avyse,  I  pr.  s.;  avyse  me,  reflect,  M.  P.  iii.  697: 

Avysen  me,  ger.  to  reflect,  consider,  M.  P.  v. 

2,v 


648;  Avyse  thee,  imp.  s.  bethink  thyself,  con- 
sider, L.  335;  Avysed  her,  pt.  s.  reflected,  con- 
sidered, L.  867;  Avyse,  v.  rejl.  consider,  B664. 

Avysement,  s.  deliberation,'!',  iv.  936;  of  short 
avysement,  after  a  brief  deliberation,  M.  P.  v. 
555;   consideration,  L.  407. 

Await,  s.  watch,  H  149;  Have  hir  in  awayt, 
watch  her,  B  3915. 

Awaiteth,/>-.  s.  waits,  watches,  B  1776. 

Awaitour,  s.  lier  in  wait.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  137. 

Awak,  imp.  s.  awake,  M.  P.  iii.  179;  Awaketh, 
imp.  pi.  awake  ye,  M.  P.  iii.  183:  Awook, 
1  //.  s.  awoke,  aroused,  M.  P.  iii.  1324. 

Awayt,  s.  delay,  T.  iii.  579. 

Awajrtes.    See  Await. 

Awaytes,//.  plots.  Bo.  III.  p.  viii.  18. 

Awayting,  s.  attending,  M.  P.  vii.  250. 

Awen,  adj.  own,  A  4239. 

Aweye,  adv.  away,  gone,  M.  P.  vii.  319;  from 
home,  B  593;  astray,  B  609. 

A-whaped,  //.  amazed,  stupefied,  M.  P.  vii. 
215;   terrified,  scared,  L.  132. 

Awook.    See  Awak. 

Awreke,  v.  avenge,  M.  P.  ii.  n;  Awroken,  //. 
A  3752. 

Axe,  V.  ask,  M.  P.  i.  120;  ger.  M.  P.  iii.  416 
Axeth,/r.  J.  L.  1456;  requires,  M.  P.  xiii.  16 
Axed, /^.  s.  M.  P.  iii.  185;  Axen,  v.  ask,  L 
835- 

Axing,  s.  asking,  request,  H.  F.  1541;  question 
L.  (A)  239;  Axinge,  questioning,  M.  P.  xvii.  3 

Ay,  adv.  ever,  always,  M.  P.  ii.  95;  ay  -whil 
that,  all  the  time  that,  M.  P.  iv.  252. 

Ay-dwellinge,  adj.  perpetual,  ever-abiding.  Bo. 
V.  p.  vi.  108. 

Ayein,  adv.  again,  back,  M.  P.  v.  100;  Ayeyn, 
M.  P.  i.  68;   Ayen,  M.  P.  v.  295. 

Ayein-ledinge,  adj.  returning,  reconducting. 
Bo.  III.  m.  ix.  46. 

Ayeins,  prep,  towards,  at  the  approach  of,  M.  P. 
v.  342;  against,  E  320.     See  Ageyns. 

Ayeinward,  adv.  again,  on  the  other  hand.  Bo. 
II.  p.  iv.  141;  Ayenward,  on  the  other  hand, 
T.  iv.  1027. 

Ayel,  J.  grandfather,  A  2477. 

AyGU,  prep,  against,  when  meeting,  M.  P.  v.  443. 

Aylen,  v.  ail,  L.  1833. 

Azimutz,  J.  //.  divisions  of  an  astrolabe.  As.  i. 
19,  9. 

B. 

Ba,  imp.  s.  kiss,  A  3709. 

Babewinnes,  //.    (lit.  baboons),  grotesque  fig- 
ures in  architecture,  H.  F.  1189. 
Bachelrye,  s.  company  of  young  men,  E  270. 
Bad,  //.  s.  bade,  E  373.     See  Bidde. 
Badde,  adj.  b.id,  I..  (.A)  277:    I'.adder,  F  224. 
Baggeth,/^-.  s.  looks  askant,  M.  P.  iii.  623. 


8o2 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Baggingly,  ad7i.  squintingly,  R.  292. 

BaillyP,  ^.  jurisdiction,  R.  4217. 

Baily,  bailiff,  R.  6331. 

Bak,  i.  cloth  for  the  back,  coarse  mantle,  cloak, 

G881. 
Bake,  //.  baked,  B  95. 

Balaunce,  s.;  in  balaunce ,  at  hazard,  in  uncer- 
tainty, R.  4667. 
Bale,  ^.  bale,  sorrow,  M.  P.  iii.  S'i'S'' /'"'  ^^t'  "' 

hale,  for  good  nor  for  ill,  M.  P.  iii.  227. 
Balkes,    j.  //.   beams;     the   transverse  beams 

beneath  the  roof,  A  3626. 
Balled,  adj.  bald,  A  198. 
Bane,   j.  destruction,   ruin,  death,  H.   F.   408; 

cause  of  death,  M.  P.  iv.  196;  death,  L.  2159; 

bane,  slayer,  L.  2147. 
Banes,//,  bones,  A  4073. 
Bar, /^  .r.  bore,  carried,  M.  P.  iii.  196;  bar  her 

on  honde,  brought  against  her  a  charge  which 

he  feigned  to  believe,  M.  P.  vii.   158;  bar  on 

honde,  accused,  T.   iii.    11 54;    Bare,  2  pt.   s. 

didst  bear,  L.  2229.     See  Bere. 
Barbe,  s.  a  kind  of  veil,  T.  ii.  no. 
Barbre,  adj.  barbarian,  B  281. 
Bareyne,  adj.  barren,  B  68;  E  448. 
Bargeyn,  s.  strife,  R.  2551. 
Barm-clooth,  s.  apron,  A  3236. 
Barme,  j.  dat.  bosom,  lap,  B  3256,  3630. 
Baronage,  J.  company  of  barons,  retinue  of  lords, 

B  329. 
Barres,   i.  //.    cross-stripes,    R.    1 103;    A  329; 

ornamental  bands,  L.  1200. 
Barringe,  i.  cross-striping,  I  417. 
BasiliCOk,  i.  basilisk,  I  853. 
Bataile,.r.  troop.  Bo.  V.  m.  i.  4;   Bataille,  battle, 

B3879;  G  386. 
Batailen,  v.  fight,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  258. 
Batailled,  //.  battlemented,  indented,  B  4050. 
Batayle,  .?.  battle,  M.  P.  v.  539. 
Bate,  s.  strife,  R.  4235. 
Bathe,  adj.  both,  A  4087. 
Bauderie,  j.  gayety,  A  1926. 
Baudy,  adj.  dirty,  G  635. 
Baundon,  i^.  control,  R.  1163. 
Bawdrik,  s.  baldrick,  belt,  A  116. 
Bawme,  .r.  balm,  T.  ii.  53;  H.  F.  1686. 
Bayard,  a  horse's  name,  G  1413. 
Bayte,  v.  to  bait,  feed,  eat,  B  466;  Bayten,  T. 

i.  192;   Baiteth,/r.  i.  feeds,  B  2103. 
Be,  I  pr.  s.  am,  M.  P.  iii.  588;   i  pr.  pi.    are, 

M.  P.  iii.  582;  pr.  s.  subj.  it  should  be,  M.  P. 

iv.  49;  //.  been,  M.  P.  iii.  972;  /  had  be,  I 

should  have  been,   M.    P.  iii.  222;    be   as  be 
may,  however  it  be,  L.  1852.     See  Ben,  Beth. 
Beau,  adj.  fair;  beau  sir,  fair  sir,  H.  F.  643. 
Be-bled,  //.  blooded,  covered  with  blood.  Bo. 

III.  m.  ii.  16. 
Bechcn,  adj.  made  of  beech,  G  ii5o. 


Become,  v.  go  to,  I..  2214. 

Bed,  j-.  station,  B  3862. 

Bede,  v.  offer,  H.  V.  32;  T.  v.  185;  offer,  prof- 
fer, G  1065;  ger.  to  present,  MP.  i.  no;  \  pr. 
s.  proffer,  M.  P.  vii.  304;  s.  pt.  pi.  directed,  I 
65;  //.  bidden,  M.  P.  iii.  194.     See  Bidde. 

Bede,//.//.  and  pp.  o/Bidde. 

Bedes,//.  bea^s,  A  159. 

Bedote,  v.  befool,  L.  1547. 

Bedrede,  adj.  bedridden,  E  1292. 

Beek,  i.  beak,  F  418. 

Been,//,  bees,  F  204. 

Beest,  J.  beast,  F  460;  beest  roial,  royal  beast, 
i.e.  Leo,  F  264. 

Beet,  f>t.  s.  touched,  R.  129. 

Beforn,  adi<.  before,  previously,  M.  P.  v.  107. 

Began,  2  //.  s.  didst  begin,  L.  2230  (the  older 
form  is  begnmte) ;   Begonne,  //.  begun,  L.  196. 

Beggestere,  j.  beggar  (female  beggar),  A  242. 

Begon,  //.  begone;  ivo  begon,  beset  by  woe,  dis- 
tressed, L.  2497;  wo  begoon,  L.  1487. 

Begoon,//.,'  wel begoon,  loyowi,  M.  P.  v.  171. 

Behest,  i.  promise,  M,  P.  v.  245. 

Behewe,//.  hewn,  carved,  H.  F.  1306. 

Behoteth,  pr.  s.  promises,  M.  P.  iii.  621;  Be- 
hette,//.  J.  M.  P.  v.  436. 

Bek,  s.  beak,  M.  P.  v.  378;  Bekes, //,  beaks, 
L.  148. 

Bekke,  i  pr.  s.  I  nod,  C  396;  Bekked,  nodded, 
T.  ii.  1260. 

Beknew,//.  s.  confessed,  L.  1058. 

Bel  amy,  i.e.  good  friend,  fair  friend,  C  318. 

Bele,  adj.  fern,  fair,  H.  F.  1796. 

Belle,  s.  bell  (of  a  clock),  M.  P.  iii.  1322. 

Belweth,/r.  J-.  belloweth,  roars,  H.  F.  1803. 

Bely,  i   bellows,  I  35T. 

Bely-naked,  adj.  stark  naked,  E  1326. 

Beme,.r.  trumpet,  H,  F.  1240;  //.  B  4588. 

Ben,  Been,  v.  be,  M.  P.  i.  182;  2  pr.  pi.  are, 
M.  P.  xix.  24;  //.  been,  M.  P.  iii.  530;  Beth, 
imp.  pi.  be  ye,  C  683. 

Bench,  i\  bench  (law-court),  M.  P.  i.  159. 

Bend,  s.  strap,  R.  1079. 

Bendinge,  s.  slant-striping,  I  417. 

Bene,  j.  bean,  M.  P.  xi.  29;   B  94. 

Benedicite,  bless  ye,  T.  i.  780;   B  1170. 

Benethen, /rt'/.  below,  M,  P.  iv.  219. 

Bent,  s.  grassy  slope;   Bente,  dat.  A  1981. 

Berafte,  //.  .?.  robbed  of,  M.  p.  V.  87.  See 
Bereve,  Bireve. 

Berd,  i.  beard,  A  332;  make  a  herd,  outwit,  A 
4096. 

Bere,  .f.  the  constellations  Ursa  Major  and  Ursa 
Minor,  H.  F.  1004;  pillow,  T.  ii.  1638;  bear, 
L.  1214;  bier,  M.  P.  ii.  105;  head-sheet,  pil- 
low-case, M.  P.  iii.  254. 

Bere,  v.  bear,  carry,  1>  3564;  transport,  F  119; 
to  carry  about,  F  148;   Bereth,  pr.  s.  B  2091; 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


803 


Berth,  in  f>hr.  sickly  berth  =  take  with  ill  will, 
dislike,  £625;  Berth  hir  on  hond,  bears  frxlse 
witness  against  her,  B  620;  Ber,  //.  s.  bore,  ','< 
722. 

Bereve.  v.  rob  of;  me  ivo  bereve,  rob  me  of 
woe,  M.  P.  vi.  12.     See  Berafte. 

Berie,  v.  bury,  C  884. 

Beringe,  s.  bearing,  behavior,  B  2022. 

Berke,  v.  bark;  Borken, //.  shrieked,  Bo.  I.  p. 
V.  2. 

Berm,  jr.  barm,  i.e.  yeast,  G  813. 

Bern,  Berne,  s.  bam,  B  3759;  C  397. 

Berth,//-,  s.  beareth,  L.  298. 
Beryle,  s.  beryl,  H.  F.  1184. 
Besaunt-wight,  weighing  a  bezant,  R.  1106. 
Besette,  v.  bestow,  M.  P.   iii.  772;   i  //.  s.  em- 
ployed, M.   P.  iii.   1096;   Beset,  //.  bestowed, 

M.  P.  iii.  863;  set,  employed,  M.  P.  v.  598; 

Besette,  ;■.    place,   dispose,   use,   employ,    L. 

1069;  pt.  s.  disposed  of,  L.  2558. 
Beseye,  //.   beseen;    wei  beseye,  well   beseen, 

well  provided,  M.  P.  iii.  829. 
Beshende,  v.  bring  to  ruin,  L.  2696. 
Besinesse,  s.  task,  M.  P.  iii.  1156;  labor,  M.  P. 

V.  86. 
Bespreynt,  //.  sprinkled,  bedewed,  M.  P.  ii.  10. 
Bestowed   me  weel,  given    me  good   fortune, 

M.  P.  vi.  37. 
Besy,  adj.  anxious,  M.   P.  v.  89;  busy,  eager, 

active,  L.  103.     See  Bisy. 
Besyde,  beside;  titer  besyde,\ie.^\^^  that  place, 

M.  P.  iii.  1316. 
Besyed  hem,//.//,  busied,  occupied  themselves, 

M.  P.  V.  192. 
Bet,   adj.    comp.  better,   M.    P.   x.   47;    H.    F. 

108. 
Bet,  adv.  better,  M.  P.  iii.  668;  quickly,  M.  P. 

iii.  136;   faster,  L.  1213. 
Betake,  i  pr.  s.  deliver,  intrust,  L.  2297. 
Bete,  I',  amend,  M.  P.  vi.  78. 
Bete,//,  beaten,  H.  F.  1150;   Beten,  B  1732. 
Bete,  V.  kindle,  A  2253;   Betten, //. //.  kindled, 

G518. 
Beth,  imp.  pi.  be,  M.  P.  i.  134;    pr.  pi.  are, 

B  2350.     See  Be. 
Bethenke,  1  pr.  s.  bethenke  me,  bethink  myself, 

consider,  M.  P.  iii.  698. 
Betid,//,  b.ippened,  H.  F.  384. 
Betraising,  i-.  betrayal,  L.  2460. 
Betraysed,//.  s.  betrayed,  M.  P.  iii.  1120. 
Bewrye,  v.  betray,  M.  P.  V.  348. 
Beye,  ?■.  buy,  C  845.    See  Bye. 
Bibbed,//*,  drunk,  A  4162. 
Bible,  s.  book,  H.  F.  1334;  G  857. 
Bi-bledde,//.  bloodied,  A  2002. 
Bicched  bones,  s.pl.  dice,  C  656. 
Bi-clappe,  t:er.  to  clasp,  ensnare,  G  9. 
Bidaffed,//.  befooled,  E  1191. 


Bidde,  v.  to  bid,  F  327;  //.  bidden,  commanded, 
B  440. 

Biddinge,/r. //.  praying,  G  140. 

Bidelve,  v.  ;  Bidolven,//.  buried.  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  91. 

Biden,//.  o/liyAc. 

Bifalle,/r.  s.  sitbj.  impers.  shall  befall,  M.  P. 
viii.  i;  pr.  s.  subj.  may  befall,  I  68;  //.  be- 
fallen, B  726;  Bifalleth,/r.  s.  happens,  E  449; 
Bifel,  pi.  s.  it  came  to  pass,  F  42;  Bifil,  li 
3613;   Bifelle,//.  s.  subj.  were  to  befall,  E  136. 

hiioin,  adv.  before,  B  704;  before,  in  anticipa- 
tion, B  1668;  beforehand,  B  1184;  of  old 
time,  F  551;   Biforc,  first,  F,  446. 

Biforn,  prep,  before,  B  997;  C  665;  in  front 
of,  G  6S0;   Biforen,  B  3553. 

Biforn-hond,  adv.  beforehand,  G  r3i7. 

Bigamye,  i.  bigamy,  M.  P.  vii.  153. 

Bigan,  //.  s.  began,  B  98,  1883. 

Bigonne,//.  begun,  L.  229.    See  Began. 

Bigoon,  //.  begone,  clothed,  R.  943. 

Bigyle,  7>.  to  beguile,  deceive,  E  252.' 

Bigyleres,  //.  beguilers,  I  299. 

Bigyns,  j-.  pi.  bcguines,  R.  6861. 

Bihate,  v.  hate;  //.  Bo.  III.  m.  iv.  7. 

Biheste,  j.  promise,  B  37;  ,F  698. 

Bihete,  v.  promise;'  2  pr.  s.  dost  promise.  Bo. 
IV.  p.  ii.  2;  I  pr.  s.  I  promise,  G  707.  See 
Bihote. 

Bihetinge,  s.  promising,  Bo.  II.  p.  viii.  18. 

Biholde,//.  beheld,  G  179. 

Bihote,  7'.  promise,  A  1854. 

Bihove,  i-.  profit,  R.  1092. 

.Sihovely,  adj.  advantageous,  T.  ii.  261. 

Bijaped,//.  tricked,  A  1585. 

Biker,  s.  quarrel,  L.  2661. 

Biknowe,  v.  acknowledge,  B  886;  I  am  bi- 
knowen  =  I  acknowledge.  Bo.  III.  p.  x.  98. 

Bilden,  ^vr.  to  build,  H.  F.  1133:  Bilt, //.  s. 
built,  H.  F.  1135;  //.  built,  M.  P.  i.  1S3 

Bilder,  .r.  as  adj.  builder,  used  for  building, 
M.  P.  v.  176. 

Bile,  s.  beak,  B  4051. 

Bileve,  j.  belief,  faith,  L.  2109;  G  63. 

Bileve,  z>.  to  remain,  stay  behind,  F  583. 

Bileveth,  imp.  pi.  believe  ye,  G  1047. 

Bille,  s.  bill,  petition,  M.  P.  i.  59,  no. 

Bimene,  v.  bemoan,  R.  2667. 

Binime,  ?/.  take  away.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  40;  Bi- 
nemen, /r.  //  Bo.  III.  p.  iii.  74;  Bi  nomen, 
//.  taken  away,  Bo.  III.  p.  iii.  79. 

Biraft.    See  Bireve. 

Bireve,  v.  bereave,  B  3359;  take  away,  G  482; 
Birafte,  pi   s.  bereft,  took  away,  B  3386. 

Biseged,//.  besieged,  B  3514. 

Biseke,  v.  beseech,  B  3174;  Bisekinge,  beseech- 
ing, E  178,  592. 

Biscmare,  s.  abusiveness,  A  3965. 

Bisette,//.  i-.  employed,  A  279. 


8o4 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Biseye,  pp.  displayed,  made  apparent;  yvel  b., 

ill-looking,   E  965;     richely   b.,   rich-looking, 

splendid,  E  984. 
Bishet,//.  shut  up,  T.  iii.  602. 
Bisie,  V.  to   trouble,  busy;    bisie   me,  employ 

myself,  G  758. 
Bisily,  adv.  busily,  F  88. 
Bisinesse,  .r.  diligence,  E  1008;  busy  endeavor, 

G  24;   Bisynesse,  F  642.     See  Businesse. 
Bi-smokede,  adj.  pi.  dirtied  with  smoke.  Bo.  I. 

p.  i.  33. 
Bismotered, //.  soiled,  A  76. 
Bistad,  //.  hard  bestead,  greatly  imperilled,  B 

649. 
Bistrood,//.  s  bestrode,  B  2093. 
Bisy,  adj.  busy,  attentive,  F  509.     See  Besy. 
Bisyde, />■(■/.  beside,  E  777,  1105;   F  374. 
Bit,  pr.  s,  bids,  F  291. 
Bitake,   i    pf.   s.   commend,   commit,   E    161 ; 

Bitook,  pi.  s.  delivered,  gave,  committed   (to 

the  charge  of),  G  541;   Bitaken, //.   Bo.  III. 

m.  ii.  52. 
Biteche,/r.  s.  commit  to,  B  2114. 
Bithinke,  i  pr.  s.  bethink,  M.  P.  i.  121. 
Bitid,//.  befallen,  B  1949.     See  Bityde. 
Bitit,  betiaeth,  T.  ii.  48. 

Bitokneth,  pr.  s.  betokens,  signifies,  B  3942. 
Bitook.    See  Bitake. 
Bitore,  ^.  bittern,  D  972. 
Bitrayed,  Bitraisshed,   Bitrasshed,  //.    be- 
trayed, B  3570;  R.  1648;  R.  3910. 
Bitrent,  pr.  s.  clasps,  encircles,  T.  iii.  1231. 
Bitwixen,  prep,  between,  C  832;    Bitwixe,   B 

3830;   Bitwix,  F  317. 
Bityde,  v.  befall,  E  79;  happen,  arrive,  B  3730; 

pr.  s.  subj.  may  betide,  E  306;  bityde  luhat 

bityde,  let   that   happen   that   may,   whatever 

may  happen,  B  2064. 
Bitydinge,  s.  an  event,  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  42. 
Bitymes,  adv.  betimes,  soon,  G  1008. 
Biwailen,  v.  to  bewail,  lament,  B  26;  Biwaille, 

B  3952;   Biwailled,//.  E  530. 
Biwreye,  v.  to  bewray,  unfold,  reveal,  B  3219; 
Biwreyen,  betray,  G  150;  Biwreyest,  disclosest, 

B  773. 
Bladdre,  j.  bladder,  G  439. 
Blake,  adj.  pi.  black,  G  557. 
Blakeberied,  a,  a-blackberrying,  i.e.  a-wander- 

iiii;  at  will,  astray,  C  406. 
Blaked,//.  blackened,  rendered  black,  B  3321. 
Blankmanger,  s.  blanc-mange,  A  387. 
Blasen,  v.  blow,  H.  F.  1802. 
Blaspheme,  s.  blasphemy,  M.  P.  xvi.  15. 
Blaste,  V.  blow  ?  trumpet,  H.  F.  1866. 
Blaunche,  adj.  white,  T.  i.  916. 
BlaundlSShinge,  pret.  pt.  as  adj.  bewitching, 
Bo.  III.  m.  xii.  25;    Blaundissinge.  flattering. 
Bo.  II.  p.  i.  34. 


Bleched,  //.  bleached,  M.  P.  ix.  45. 

Blemished,//,  injured,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  348. 

Blent,  pr.  s.  blinds,  M.  P.  v.  600;  pp.  blinded, 
M.  P.  XV.  18. 

Blere,  v.  blind,  A  4049. 

Blered,  adj.  bleared,  G  730. 

Blesseth  hir,  pr.  s.  crosses  herself,  B  449. 

Bleve,  V.  remain,  T.  iii.  623. 

Blew,  adj.  blue,  M.  P.  iii.  340;  Blewe,  adj.  pi. 
blue,  livid,  pale;  7vith  teres  bleive,  blue  with 
weeping,  M.  P.  iv.  8;  Blew,  adj.  as  s.  blue, 
blue  clothing,  M.  P.  xxi.  7.     See  Blo. 

Bleyne,  s.  blain,  R.  553. 

Blinne,  v.  stop,  cease,  R   65ii;  G  1171. 

Blisful,  adj.  blessed,  B  845;  happy,  merry,  E 
844,  1121. 

Blisful,  adv.  joyously,  M.  P.  v.  689. 

Blisfulnesse,  s.  happiness.  Bo.  II.  p.  iy.  127. 

Blisse,  V.  bless,  E  553. 

Blo,  adj.  blue,  ash-colored,  smoke-colored,  H.  F. 
1647.     See  Blew. 

Blondren.    See  Blundreth. 

Blood,  s.  progeny,  oflfspring,  E  632. 

BlosmeS,  J.  //.  blossoms,  L,  143,  157. 

Blosmy,  adj.  blossomy,  covered  with  blossoms, 
M.  P.  v.  183. 

Blowe,//.  blown,  filled  out  with  wind,  G  440. 

Blundreth,  pr.  s.  runs  heedlessly,  G  1414; 
Blondren,  i  pr.  pi.  we  fall  into  confusion,  we 
confuse  ourselves,  become  mazed,  G  670. 

Blynde  with,^^>-.  to  blind  (the  priest)  with,  G 
1151. 

Blythe,  adj.  merry,  of  good  cheer,  L.  647. 

Blyve,  ad7K  quickly,  M.  P.  iii.  152;  L.  60;  as 
blyve,  as  quickly  as  may  be,  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, M.  P.  iii.  248. 

Bobance,  s.  presumption,  boast,  D  569. 

Boch,  s.  botch,  pustule.  Bo.  III.  p.  iv.  15. 

BOCher,  s.  butcher,  A  2025. 

Bode,  J.  foreboding,  token,  omen,  M.  P.  v.  343. 

Bode,  s.  abiding,  delay,  M.  P.  vii.  119. 

Bode,  V.  proclaim;  pr.  s.  heralds,  Bo.  IV,  m.  vi. 
19. 

Boden,//.  ordered,  L.  366;  //.  0/  Bede. 

Body,  J.  principal  subject,  E  42;  my  body,  my 
self,  B  1185;  //.  metallic  bodies  (metals), 
answering  to  celestial  bodies  (planets),  G  820. 

BoeS,/;'.  .r.  it  behoves,  A  4027. 

Boght,  pp.  bought,  M.  P.  iv.  168;  Boghten, 
1  pt.  pi.  bought,  L.  258. 

Boist,  J.  box,  C  307;   Boistes,//.  H.  F.  2129. 

BoistOUS,  adj.  rough,  H  211. 

Boistously,  adv.  loudly,  E  791. 

Bokeler,  .r.  buckler,  A  112,  3266. 

Bokes,  //.  books,  B  3499. 

Boket,  s.  bucket,  A  1533. 

Bolas,  .y.  bullace,  R.  1377. 

Bolde,  V.  grow  bold,  M.  P.  v.  144. 


GLOSSAKIAL   INDEX. 


805 


Bole  armoniak,  Armenian  clay,  G  790. 

Boles, /A  bulls,  M.  P.  iv.  86;   L.  1432. 

Bolle,  s   a  bowl,  G  1210. 

Bon,  {ii/j.  good,  H.  F.  1022. 

Bond,  //.  s.  bound,   H.    F.    1590;    Bonde,  //. 

bound,  in  slavery,  M.  P.  xvii.  32. 
Bond,  s.  a  band,  F  131. 
Bone,  s.  prayer,  request,  M.  P.  iii.  129;   request, 

L.  1596;  petition,  L.  2340. 
Boon,  s.  bone,  M.  P.  iii.  940;   B  3090. 
Boor,  s.  boar,  L.  980;   B  3299. 
Boost,  J-.  noise,  /leiicehoast,  L.  267;  boast,  pride, 

B  32S9.     See  Bost. 
Boot,//.  J.  bit,  B  3791. 
Boot,  s.  boat,  E  1424. 
Boras,  s.  borax,  A  630;  G  790. 
Bord,  J.  board,  plank,  M.  P.  iii.  74;  table,  B  430; 

board,  i.e.  meals,  G  1017. 
Bordels,  s.  pi.  brothels,  I  885. 
Bordillers,  j.  pi.  keepers  of  brothels,  R.  7034. 
Bore,//,  born,  M.  P.  iii.   1301;   Bore,  //.  born, 

E401;  borne,  carried,  F  178;   Born,  borne,  E 

444;  carried,  F  176;  worn,  F  43. 
Bore,  Boren,//.  o/Bere. 
Borel,  adj.  coarse,  common,  B  3145. 
Bores.    See  Boor. 
Borneth,/r.  j'.  burnishes,  T.  i.  327. 
Borowe,  .r.  dnt.  pledge;  to  borowe,  in  pledge, 

for  surety,  M.  P.  iv.  205. 
Borwe,  v.  borrow,  M.  P.  vi.  10;   B  105. 
Borwe,  j.  pledge;  to  bnrive,  in  pledge,  L.  2105. 
Bosarde,  s.  buzzard,  R.  4033. 
Bost,  s.  boasting,  M.  P.  iv.  37;  noise,  outcry, 

L.  887;   pride,  swelling,  G  441.     See  BoOSt. 
Bote,  i.  remedy,  M.  P.  iii.  38;  cure,  M.  P.  xxii. 

45;  safety,  salvation,  B  1656;   relief,  G  1481 ; 

doth  bote,  gives  the  remedy  for,  M.  P.  v.  276; 

for  bote  ne  bale,  for  good,  nor  for  ill,  M.  P.  iii. 

227;  boot,  help,  L.  1076. 
Botel,  .f.  bottle  (of  hay),  H  14. 
Boteler,  j.  butler,  H.  F.  592. 
Boterflye,  s.  butterfly,  B  3980. 
Bothe,   adj.  pi.    both,   M.    P.    iii.    1068;    your 

bathes,  of  both  of  you,  M.  P.  i.  83. 
"Bother,  gen.  of  both,  T.  iv.  168. 
Botme,  s.  dat.  bottom,  G  1321. 
Botomlees,  adj.  bottomless,  L.  1584. 
Botoun,  s.  bud,  R.  1721,  2960. 
Bougerons,  i.  //.  sodomites,  R.  7022. 
Bought,  Boughte,/^  j.  bought;  boughte  agayn, 

redeemed,  C  766. 
Bouk,  s.  body,  A  2746. 
Bountee,  s.  bounty,  M.  P.  ii.  38;  goodness,  MP. 

xxiii.   5;  goodness,  kindness,  devotedness,  L. 

522. 
Bour,  s.  inner  room,  B  4022. 
Bourde,  i.  jest,  H  81. 
Bourded,//.  jested,  M.  P.  v.  589. 


Boures,  s.  pi.  bowers,  M.  P.  v.  304. 

Bowes,//,  boughs,  M.  P.  V.  183. 

Box,  s.  boxwood,  L.  866. 

Box,  s.  blow,  L.  1388. 

Boxtre,  s   box-tree,  M.  P.  v.  178. 

Boydekins,  .s.  //.  poniards,  lit.  bodkins,  B  3892. 

Bracer,  i.  arm-puard,  A  11 1. 

Brade,  adj.  bro.ad,  R.  4200. 

Bragot,  i.  ale  and  mead,  A  3261. 

Brak,//.  .t.  broke,  M.  P.  iii.  71;   B  288.  Pt.  t. 

of  Breken. 
Branched,  adj.  full  of  branches,  F  159. 
Brast,  Braste.    See  Breste. 
Braun,  s.  muscle,  A  546. 
Brayd,  j.  start,  L.  1166. 
Brayde,/^  s   took  hastily,  H.  F.  1678;   Brayd, 

//.   started,  gone   suddenly,    M.    P.   vii.   124. 

See  Breyde. 
Brede,  s.  roast  meat,  H.  F.  1222. 
Brede,  s.  breadth,  M.  P.  iii.  956;  B  3350. 
Breden,,g"^r.  to  breed,  to  arise,  L.  1156. 
Breech,  s.  breeches,  B  2049;   C  948. 
Breed,  s.  bread,  B  3624;   F  614. 
Breke,/r.  s.  subj.  break,  M.  P.  iv.  242;   Brak, 

pt.  s.  M.  P.  iii.  71;   Breke,  v.  break,  C  936; 

br.  his  day,  fail  to  pay  at  the  appointed  time, 

G  1040;  Breke,  jVk/.  s.  interrupt,  I  24. 
Brekers,  s.  pi.  breakers,  transgressors,  M.  P.  v. 

78. 
Brekke,  j.  break,  flaw,  defect,  M.  P.  iii.  940. 
Breme,  adj.  fierce,  T.  iv.  184;  adv.  A  1699. 
Bren,  i.  bran,  A  4053. 
-Brend, //.  brent,  brend,  R.  1109. 
Brenne,  -'.  bum,  M.  P.  xvii.   18;   Brende,  //.  s. 

burnt,  M.  P.  i.  90;  was  burnt,  H.  F.  163;  was 

set  on  fire,  H.  F.  537;  //.  //.  caught  fire,  H.  F. 

954;   Brent,//,  burnt,  M.  P.  vii.  115;   Brente, 

//.  //.  L.  731;   Brenninge, />'t'.j.  //.  burning, 

M.  P.  i.  90;     Brend,//.  burnt,  L.   (A)  292; 

Brennen,/r. //.  burn,  L.  2610. 
Brenning,  s.  burning,  M.  P.  iv.  133. 
Breres,  s.  pi.  briars,  R.  3006. 
Brest,  s.  breast,  E  617. 
Breste,  v.  burst,  break,  E  1169;  ger.  to  burst, 

H.  F.  2018;   Brast,//.  s.  broke,  M.  P.  iii.  1193; 

Braste,//.  B  671. 
Bret-ful,  adj.  brimful,  H.  F.  2123;  A  687. 
Bretherhed,  s.  brotherhood,  religious  order,  A 

511. 
Breve,  adj.  brief,  R.  2350. 
Brew,  pt.  s.  brewed,  contrived,  B  3575. 
Breyde,    v.    start    suddenly,    awake,    F     477; 

Breyde,//.  s.  started,  went  (out  of  his  wits), 

H  3728;  drew,  B  837. 
Brid,  s.  bird,  L.  1757;    Briddes,  //.  young  of 

birds,  M.  P.  v.  192. 
Brige,  s.  quarrel,  B  2870. 
Brighte,  adv.  brightly,  B  11,  2034. 


8o6 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX, 


Brike,  j.  a  perilous  state,  ruin,  downfall,  B  3580. 

Brimme,  i.  brim  of  a  lake,  water,  L.  2451. 

Bringen,  ?'.  bring,  B  3623. 

Brinkes,//.  sides,  banks,  H.  F.  803. 

Brinne.    See  Brenne. 

Brocage,  j.  brokery,  jobbery,  A  3375. 

Broche,  s.  any   precious   small   ornament,  here 

used  of  a  bracelet,  M,  P.  iv.  245. 
Erode,  ai/j.  pi.  broad,  thick,  B  3448.     See  Brood. 
Erode,  adv.  far  and  wide,  H.  F.  1683;  broadly, 

wide  awake,  G  1420. 
Broken,//,  ship-wrecked,  L.  1487. 
Broken.    See  Breke. 

Brokkinge,  pr.  pt.  warbling,  A  3377. 

Eromes,  //.  broom   (bushes   so   called),  H.   F. 

1226. 
Brond,  j.  brand,  torch,  L.    2252;     firebrand,  B 

3224;   Bronde,  dat.  a  piece  of  hot  metal  on  the 

anvil,  B  2095. 
Brood,  adj.  broad,  thick,  large,  F  82.    See  Erode. 
Erosten, //. //.  burst,  M.  P.  iv.  96;  //.  broken, 

L.  1300.    See  Breste,  Brast. 
Brotel,  (J(^'.  brittle,  frail;  fickle,  L.   1855;   Bru- 

tel,  Bo.  II.  p.  V.  6. 
Erotelnesse,  i.  fickleness,  M.  P.  x.  63. 
Brouded,//.  embroidered,  B  3659. 
Brouke,  v.  enjoy,  use,  B   4490;    i  pr.  s.  subj. 

(optative),  may  I  have  the  use  of,  H.  F.  263; 

Brouken,/r.  //.  subj.   may  they  enjoy,  profit 

by,  L.  194. 
Erowdinge,  s.  embroidery,  A  2498. 
Erutel.    See  Brotel.  , 

Eryberyes,  i.  //.  rascalities,  D  1367. 
Erydel,  s.  bridle,  M.  P.  vii.  184;  F  340. 
Erydeleth,/r.  s.  bridles,  M.  P.  iv.  41. 
Euk,  J.    buck,  M.   P.   v.    195;    Bukke,  B  1946; 

Blow  the  bukkes  horn,  have  trouble  for  noth- 
ing, A  3387. 
BuUe,  .f.  papal  bull,  C  909. 
Bulte,  V   sift,  B  4430. 
Eulte,  pt.  s.  built,  A  1548. 
Eurdoun,  f.  cudgel,  R.  3401;  bass,  A  673. 
Eurel,  adj.  coarse,  common,  D  1872. 
Euriels,  s.  pi.  burial-places,  i.e.  the  catacombs, 

G  186. 
Burned,//,  burnished,  polished,  H.  F.  1387. 
Burnettes,//.  dresses  of  brown,  R.  4756. 
Businesse,    s.   business,   industry,   G    5.     See 

Bisinesse. 
Busk,  i-   bush,  R.  54;  //.  A  1579. 
But,  corij.  unless,  M.  P.  ii.  82;  but  and,  but  if, 

\j.  1790;  but-if,  unless,  M.  P.  iii,  1023. 
Buxom,  adj.  obedient,  B  1432. 
Buxomly,  adv.  obediently,  E  186. 
Buxumnesse,   i.    yielding,  submission,   M.    P. 

xiii.  15. 
By,  prep,  in  the  case  of,  with  reference  to,  M.  P. 

iv.  263;   concerning,  H.  F.  742;  with  respect 


to,  about,  L.  271;  by  the  »iorwe,  at  morn,  L. 

49. 
By,  adv.  by,  at  hand,  L.  2091. 
By,  7'.  to  buy;  go  by,  go  to  buy,  G  1294.     See 

Beye. 
By  and  by,  adv.  one  after  another,  in  order,  L. 

304;  side  by  side,  in  order,  A  ion. 
'Bye,pr.  pi.  subj.  buy,  M.  P.  xviii.  26. 
Byen, /?-.//.  buy,  R.  2452. 
Byer,  i.  buyer,  R.  5928. 
Byforn,/rf/.  before,  H.  F.  60. 
Bynde,  v.  bind,  enthral,  M.   P.   iv.  249;    Bynt 

him,  pr.  s.  bindeth  himself,  M.  P.  iv.  47;  Bynt 

her,  M.  P.  iv.  48. 
Byte,  7'.  bite,  B  3634;   to  sting,  F  513;    to  cut 

deeply,  F  158. 
Bytinge,  .j.  wound.  Bo.  III.  m.  vii.  7. 
By-twixe,  adv.  between.  As.  ii.  5. 


Caas.    See  Cas. 

Cable,  J.  cord,  M.  p.  xviii.  33. 

Cacche,  v.  catch,  M.  P.  iii.  781;  G  11. 

Caitif,  s.  wretch,  M.  P.  i.  124. 

Cake,  i.  loaf,  C  322, 

Cakelinge,  s.  cackling,  M.  P.  v.  562. 

Calcening,  s.  calcination,  G  771. 

Calcinacioun,  .s.  calcination,  G  804. 

CalCUlinge,  J'.  reckoning,  T.  i.  71. 

Calden,  2  pt.  pi.  called,  M.  P.  vii.  251. 

Caleweys,  s.  pi.  pears,  R.  7043. 

Calle,  f.  head-dress,  D  1018.     See  Howve. 

Cam,//.  J.  came,  F  81. 

Camaille,i.  camel,  E  1196. 

Camelyne,  s.  camel's  hair,  R.  7367. 

Camuse,  adj.  flat,  A  3934. 

Can,  I  pr.  s.  know,  am  able  to  say,  M.  P.  v.  14. 
See  Coude. 

Candel,  i.  torch,  light,  M.  P.  iv.  7. 

Canel-boon,  s.  collar-bone  (lit.  channel-bone, 
with  reference  to  the  depression  in  the  neck  be- 
hind the  collar-bone),  M.  P.  iii.  943. 

Canelle.  s.  cinnamon,  R.  1370. 

Canevas,  s.  canvas,  G  939. 

Cankedort,  s.  state  of  suffering,  T.  ii.  1752. 

Canon,  s.  the  '  Canon,'  the  title  of  a  book  by 
Avicenna,  C  890. 

Canstow,yi7r  Canst  thou,  B  632. 

Cantel,  s.  portion,  A  3008. 

Cape, /r. //.  gape,  T.  v.  11 33. 

Capel,  .J.  horse,  nag,  H  64. 

Capitayn,  j.  captain,  C  582. 
Capoun,  .J.  capon,  L.  1389. 
Carbuncle,  s.  carbuncle-stone,  H.  F.  1363. 
Cardiacle,  s.  pain  about  the  heart,  C  313. 
Care,   s.   care,   ill-luck,  M.  P.   v.  363;   anxiety, 
trouble,  B  514. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


807 


Care,  t.  feel  anxiety,  E  1212. 

Careful,  «<//.  full  of  trouble,  M.  P.  vi.  44. 

Careyne,  s.  cnrrion,  dead  body,  M.  P.  v.  177. 

Carf, /<.  s.  carved,  cut,  B  3647. 

Carie,  T.  to  carry,  E  585;  Carien,/>-.  //.  carry, 

B  1814;  Caricden,  pi  pi.  carried,  G  1219. 
Carl,  J.  churl,  country  fellow,  C  717. 
Carmes,  s.  pi  Carmelites,  R.  7462. 
Carole,.;,  carol,  L.  687;  singing  dance.  R.  744. 
Carole,  v.  dance  round  singing,  M.  P.  iii.  849. 
Carpe,  v.  chatter,  A  194. 
Carrik,  s.  ship  of  burden,  D  1688. 
Cart,  s.  chariot,  H.  F.  943. 
Cartere,  j.  charioteer,  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  no. 
Cart-hors,  //.  chariot-horses,  H.  F.  944. 
Cas,  .f.  chance,  H.  F.  1052;  case,  affair,  L.  1558; 
adventure,  L.  1630;  mischance,  L.  1056:  case, 
occasion,  B  36;  circumstance,  state,  condition, 
B  123;  chance,  hap,  E  316;  to  deycn  in  the 
cas,  though  death  were  the  result,  E  859. 
Cas,  s.  case  for  arrows,  quiver,  L.  982. 
Cast,  i.  plan,  H.  F.  1178. 

Caste,  I  //.  J.  cast,  M.  P.  v.  172;  pr.  s.  subj. 
let  (him)  cast,  M.   P.  xx.  4  ;    Casteth,  pr.  s. 
considers,  G  1414".   rf/l.  casts  himself,  devotes 
himself,  G  738;  Casten,/r.  //.  cast  about,  de- 
bate, B212;  Cast,//,  cunningly  devised,  M.  P. 
ii.  26. 
Castel,  J.  castle,  M.  P.  iii.  1318,  1322. 
Casuelly,  aih'.  by  chance,  H.  F.  679. 
Catel,  .f.  chattels,  A  373. 
Catlghte, //.  .f.  pulled,  L.  1854;  took,  conceived, 

E  619;   Caught,  pp.  obtained,  E  mo. 
Cause,  s.   reason,  B  252;  cause  why,  the  reason 

why  is  this,  E  2435. 
Causeles,  adv.  without  reason,  M.  P.  xxii.  32. 
Causen,/r.  //.  cause,  F  452. 
Cave,     s.    used    to   translate    astrological   term 

'  puteus,'  M.  P.  iv.  119;   cave,  L.  1225. 
Caytif,  s.  wretch,  wretched  or  unfortunate  man, 

B  3269. 
Celebrable,  adj.  celebrated.  Bo.  IV.  m.  vii.  35. 
Celerer,  s.  keeper  of  a  cellar,  B  3126. 
Celestials,  adj.  pi.  of  heaven,  heavenly,  H.  F. 

460. 
Ceptre,  i.  sceptre,  M.  P.  v.  256;   B  3334. 
Cercle,  i.  circle,  H.  F.  791;  sphere,  ]NI.  P.  xvi.  9. 
Cared,  //.  as  adj.  waxed,  G  808. 
Cerial  00k,  i.  holm  oak,  A  2290. 
Cerimonies,  s.  pi.  ceremonious  acts,  acts  of  court- 
ship, F  515. 
Ceriously,  adv.  minutely,  with  full  details,  B  185. 
Certein,  adj.  a   certain  quantity   of;   c.  gold,  a. 
stated  sum  of  money,  B  242;   c.  tresor,  a  quan- 
tity of  treasure,  B  442;  Certeyn,  a  certain  sum, 
a  fixed  quantity,  G  776;  Certeins,  //.  certain, 
Bo.  v.  p.  v.  125. 
Certes,  adv.  certainly,  M.  P.  i.  28;  G  1478. 


Certeyn,  adv.  certainly,  M.  P.  I.   169;  In  cer- 

tayn,  certainly,  T.  iv.  908. 
Ceruce,  s.  white  lead,  A  630. 
Cese,  V.  put  an  end  to,  M.  P.  iv.  11.     See  Cesse. 
Cesse,  V.  cease,  B  1066. 
Cetewale,  .?.  either  (i)  zedoary,  or  (2)  the  herb 

valerian,  B  195 1.     See  Setewale. 
Ceynt,  j.  girdle,  A  3235. 

Chaced,//.  chased,  driven  away,  M.  P.  xi.  14. 
Chaffare,  J.  merchandise;  hence,  matter,  subject, 

E  2438. 
Chaffare,  g;er.  to  trade,  barter,  deal,  traffic,  B  139. 
Chaires,  i.  //.  thrones.  Bo.  IV.  m.  ii.  4. 
Chalaundre,  s.  sort  of  lark,  R.  914. 
Chalaunged,//.  s.  arrogated.  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  39. 
Chalk-Stoon,  i.  a  piece  of  chalk.  G  1207. 
Chalons,  s.  coverlets  from  Chalons,  A  4140. 
Chamberere,   s.   maidservant,   chambermaid,  E 

819. 
Champartye,  j.  partnership,  A  1949. 
Chanon,  i-.  canon,  G  573;  Chanoun,  G  972. 
Chapeleyne,  .J.  nun  who  said  minor  offices,  A  164. 
Chapitres,//.  chapters,  M.  P.  v.  32. 
Chapmanhode,  j.  trade,  barter,  B  143. 
Chapmen,  .f.  //.  traders,  merchants,  B  135. 
Char,  s.  car,  chariot,  M    P.  vii.  24;   F  671. 
Charbocle,   .r.   carbuncle  (a   precious   stone),  B 

206 1. 
Charge,  j.  load,  burden,  M.  P.  vii.  32;  a  heavy 
thing,  H.  F.  746;  importance,  M.  P.  iii.  894; 
responsibility,  E  163;  weight,  L.   620;  conse- 
quence, L.  2383;  0/  that  no  ch.,  for  that  no 
^  matter,  it  is  of  no  importance,  G  749. 
Charge,  I/,  load,  L.  2151. 
Chargeant,  adj.  burdensome,  B  2433. 
Charite,  s.  charity,  M.  p.  iii.  642. 
Charmeresses,  /em.  pi.  workers  with  charms, 

H.  F.  1261. 
Chartres,  s.  pi.  agreements,  T.  iii.  340. 
Chasted,  //.    chastened,   taught,    F  491.      See 

Chastyse. 
Chasteleyne,  s.  chatelaine,  R.  3740. 
Chasteyn,  s.  chestnut,  A  1921. 
Chastisinge,  j   chastening,  M.  P.  i.  129. 
Chastyse,  v.  chasten,  M.   p.   i.   39;   ivip.  s.  M. 

p.  i.  129.    See  Chasted. 

Chaunce,  J'.  chance,  incident,  M.  P.  iii.  1285; 
hap,  destiny,  M.  P.  iii.  1113;  luck,  G  593; 
'  chance,"  a  technical  term  in  the  game  of  haz- 
ard, C  653. 

Chaunge,  j.  change,  exchange,  F  535. 

Chaunte-pleure,  title  of  a  song  upon  grief  fol- 
lowing joy,  M.  P.  vii.  320. 

Chaunterie,  s.  endowment  for  singing  masses 
for  the  dead,  A  510. 

Chayer,  s.  throne.  Bo.  I.  m.  v.  3. 

Cheef,  adj.  chief,  M.  P.  iii.  910,  911. 

Cheek,  s.  cheek,  i.e.  cheekbone,  B  3228. 


8o8 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Chees,  i  pt.  s.  chose,  M.  p.  iii.  791;  imp.  s. 
choose,  L.  1449;  Cheest,  pr.  s.  chooseth,  M. 
P.  V.  623.    See  Chese. 

Cheeste,  s.  strife,  I  556. 

Chek,  ^.  as  int.  check  (at  chess),  M.  P.  iii.  659. 

Chekkere,  s.  chess-board,  M.  P.  iii.  660. 

Chelaundre,  R.  81.    See  Chalaundre. 

Chepe,  s.  a  time  of  cheapness,  H.  F.  1974. 

Cherche,  s.  a  church,  G  546. 

Chere,  j.  cheer,  look,  manner,  M.  P.  iii.  545; 
kindly  greeting,  M.  P.  iv.  146;  face,  counte- 
nance, L.  64;  appearance,  L.  2079;  doth  him 
chere,  makes  him  good  cheer,  L.  2452;  enter- 
tainment, B  180;  show,  E  678;  kindly  expres- 
sion, E  1112. 

Cherete,  .1.  dearness,  R.  3516. 

Cherl,  j-.  churl,  L.  136;  C  289. 

Cheryce,  v.  cherish,  M.  P.  ix.  52;  Cherissh-Jth, 
imp.  pi.  cherish  ye,  F  353. 

Ches,  .s.  chasS,  M.  P.  iii.  619. 

Chese,  v.  choose,  M.  P.  V.  399;  Chesen,  v.  M. 
P.  xxii.  86;  Cheseth,  imp.  pi.  M.  P.  iv.  17; 
Chees,//.  i.  chose,  B  3706;  Chose,//,  chosen, 
M.  P.  iii.  1004. 

Chesinge,  s.  choosing,  choice,  E  162. 

Cheste,  .f.  coffin,  E  29. 

Chevalrye,  s.  chivalry,  knighthood,  H.  F.  1340. 

Chevauche,  ^.  swift  course  (lit.  a  ride),  M.  P. 
iv.  144. 

Chevauchee.    See  Chivachee . 

Cheve,  v.;  in  phr.  yvel  mote  he  cheve  =  ill 
may  he  end,  or  ill  may  he  thrive,  G  1225. 

Chevered,//.  shivered,  R.  1732. 

Chevesaile,  s.  collar,  R.  1082. 

Chevisaunce,  i.  borrowing,  L.  2434. 

Chevise,  7'.  procure,  R.  6425;  refl.  accomplished 
her  desire,  M    P.  iv.  289. 

Cheyne,  s.  chain,  M.  P.  xi.  16. 

Chiche,  adj.  parsimonious,  R.  5588. 

Chideresse,  .s.  scold,  R.  4266. 

Chiertee,  s.  dearness,  B  1526;  affection,  F  881. 

Chike,  .r.  chick,  R.  541. 

Chiknes,  //.  chickens,  A  380. 

Child,  s.  child,  a  term  of  address  to  a  young 
man,  B  2000. 

Childhede,  s.  dat.  childhood,  B  1691. 

Chilindre,  .y.  pocket  sun-dial,  B  1396. 

Chimbe,  s.  rim  of  the  barrel,  A  3895. 

Chirche,  s.  church,  A  460. 

Chirche-hawes,  s.  pi.  churchyards,  I  801. 

Chirketh,  pr.pt.  rustling.  Bo.  I.  m.  vi.  11;  pr. 
s.  twitters,  D  1804. 

Chirking,  .r.  murmuring,  A  2004. 

Chirkinges,  //.  shriekings,  cries,  H.  F.  1943. 

Chit,  pr.  s.  chides,  G  921. 

Chiteren,  v.  chatter,  prattle,  G  1397. 

Chivachee,  j.  feat  of  horsemanship,  H  50. 

Chivachye,  s.  expedition,  A  85. 


Chivalrye,  s.  chivalry,  company  of  knigfits,  B 
235;  troops  of  horse,  cavalry,  B  3871. 

Chogh,  s.  chough,  M.  P.  V.  345. 

Choppen,  v.  strike  downwards,  knock,  H.  F. 
1824. 

Chose.    See  Chese. 

Choys,  i.  choice,  M.  P.  v.  406;  E  170. 

Chyde,  v.  chide,  complain,  F  649. 

Chyning,  adj.  gaping,  yawning.  Bo.   I.   p. 

45- 

Ciclatoun,  s.  a  costly  kind  of  thin  cloth,  B  1924. 

Ciergis,  s.  pi.  tapers,  R.  6248. 

Cink,  tium.  cinque,  five,  C  653. 

Cipres,  j.  cypress,  M.  P.  v.  179;  Ciprees,  B 
2071. 

Citee,  s.  city,  F  46. 

Citezein,  s.  citizen,  H.  F.  930. 

Citole,  J.  stringed  instrument  of  music,  A  1959. 

Citrinacioun,  s.  citronizing,  the  turning  to  the 
color  of  citron,  a  process  in  alchemy,  G  8x6. 

Clamb, //.  J.  climbed,  B  1987;  Clamben, //. //. 
climbed,  H.  F.    2151. 

Claperes,  s.pl.  burrows,  R.  1405. 

Clappe,  J.  thunderclap,  H.  F.  1040. 

Clappe,  pr.  pi.  chatter,  prattle,  G  965;  Clappeth, 
imp.  pi.  make  a  constant  clatter,  keep  chatter- 
ing, E  1200;  pr.  s.  talks  fast,  B  3971. 

Clapping,  s.  chatter,  idle  talk,  E  999. 

Clarioning,  s.  the  music  of  the  clarion,  H.  F. 
1242. 

Clarioun,  j.  clarion,  H.  F.  1240. 

Clarre,  Clarree,  s.  wine  mixed  with  honey  and 
spices,  and  afterwards  strained  till  it  was  clear, 
M.  P.  ix.  16;   A  1471. 

Clause,  s.  sentence,  B  251. 

Clawe,  V.  rub,  scratch,  A  4326;  D  940. 

Cled,//.  clad,  furnished,  M.  P.  iii.  252. 

Cleernesse,  s.  clearness,  brightness,  glory,  G 

403- 
Clene,  adj.  clean,  pure,  unmixed,  B  1183. 
Clene,  adv.  entirely,  M.  P.  iii.  423;   F  626. 
Clepe,  V.  call,  name,  M.  P.  iii.  810;  Cleped,//. 

M.  P.  i.  159;  Clepen,  v.  call,  F  331;  Clepeth, 

pr.  s.  calls,  F  382;    men  clepe,  people  call,  E 

115. 
Clere,  adj.  clear,  noble,  pure,  H.  F.  1575;  pi. 

noble,  M.   P.  v.  77;   clear,  beautiful,  L.  249; 

clear,  bright,  E  779. 
Clergeon,  .s.  a  chorister-boy,  B  1693. 
Clergial,  adj.  clerkly,  learned,  G  752. 
Clerk,  s.  clerk,  learned  man,  student,  E  i. 
Cleve,  V.  adhere;  pr.  pi.  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  127. 
Cleve,  f.  cleave,  cut,  split,  L.  751;  Cloven,//. 

L.  738. 
Clew,  I  //.  s.   rubbed,  H.  F.  1702.     Pt.  t.  of 

Clawen. 
Clew,  s.  clew,  L.  2140. 
Cley,  s.  clay,  G  807. 


GLOS&ARIAL  INDEX. 


809 


Clif,   s.    cliff,   L.    1497;    Clyves,  //.    L.    1470; 

Cliffes,  cliffs,  rocks,  M.  P.  iii.  161. 
Clifte,i.  chink,  Ro.  IV.  p.  iv.  334;  cleft,  L.  740. 
Cliket,  s.  latch-key,  E  2046. 
Clinke,  Clinken,  v.  to  ring,  sound,  clink,  tingle, 

B  1186:  C664. 
Clinking,  s.  tinkling,  B  3984. 
Clippe,  V.  clip,  cut,  B  3257. 
Clippeth,/r.  .r.  embraces,  L.  876. 
Clipsy,  i!c(/.  eclipsed,  obscure,  R.  5349. 
Clobbed.  aJj.  clubbed,  B  3088. 
Cloisterer,  j.  a  cloister-monk,  B  3129. 
Clokke,   J.  clock;    0/  the  clock,  by  the  clock, 

B  14. 
Clom,  iitterj.  hush,  A  3638. 
Clomb,  r  //.  s.  climbed,  M.  P.  iv.  271 ;  Clamben, 

//.//.  H.  F.  2i5t. 
Clombe.    See  Clymben. 
ClOOS,   adj.    secret,  T.    ii.    1534;    close,  secret, 

G  1369. 
ClOS,  s.  a  pen,  enclosure,  B  4550. 
Close,  V.  close,  M.  P.  iii.  873. 
Closer,  s.  enclosure,  R.  4069. 
Clote-leef,  i.  a  leaf  of  the  burdock  or  clote-bur, 

G  577- 
Clothered, //.  dotted,  A  2745. 
Clout,  s.  a  cloth,  C  736;  Cloutes, //.  cloths,  por- 
tions of  a  garment,  rags,  C  348. 
Cloven,//,  cleft,  L.  738.    See  Cleve. 
Clowe-gilofre,  s.  clove,  spice,  B  1952. 
Clowes,//,  claws,  H.  F.  1785. 
Clustred,  //.  covered  with  clouds,  Bo.  I.  m.  iii.  6. 
Clymben,  v.  to  climb,  F  106;  Clymbeth,  f>r.  s. 

B    3966;    Clombe,  //.    B   12;    -were  clombe, 

hadst  climbed,  B  3592. 
Cljrven,/r. //.  cleave,  keep,  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  127. 
Clyves.    See  Clif. 

Coagulat,  //.  coagulated,  clotted,  G  811. 
Cod,  i.  bag,  C  534. 
Coempcioun,  s.  an  imposition  so  called,  lit.  joint 

purchase,  the  buying  up  of  the  whole  of  any 

commodity  in  the  market.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  lot. 
Cofre,   s.    coffer,   coffin,  M.    P.    v.   177;    coffer, 

chest,  L.  380;   coffer,  money-box,  G  836. 
Cogge,  X.  cock-boat,  L.  1481. 
Coillons,  //.  testicles,  C  952. 
Cok,  s.  cock,  M.  P.  V.  350. 
Cokenay,  j.  milksop,  A  4208. 
Cokes,  s.  pi.  cooks,  C  538. 
Cokewold,  i.  cuckold,  A  3152. 
Cokkel,  5.  cockle,  i.e.  the  corn-cockle,  B  1183. 
Cokkes,  corruption  of  Goddes,  H  9;   I  29. 
Cokkow.  s   cuckoo,  M.  P.  V.  498. 
Col-blak,  adj.  coal-black,  A  2r42. 
Colde,  V.    grow  cold,  B   879;    doth  ntyn  herte 

colde,  makes  my  heart  grow  cold,  L.  240. 
Colerik,  adj.  choleric,  F  51. 
Coles,  s.pl.  coals,  G  1114. 


Col-fox,  s.  brant-fox,  B  4405. 

Collacioun,  s.  conference,  E  325. 

Collect,  s.  table  of  planetary  motions,  F  t27S. 

Colotir,  J.  color,  outward  appearance,  M.  P.  ii. 

66;    Coloures,  //.    colors,  pretences  (a  pun), 

F  511. 
Colpons,//.  shreds,  A  679. 
Columbyn,  adj.  dove-like,  E  2141. 
Colver,  s.  dove,  L.  2319. 
Comaundour,  s.  commander,  B  495. 
Combred,//.  encumbered.  Bo.  III.  m.  x.  9. 
Combre-world,  s.  useless  creature,  T.  iv.  279. 
Combust,//,  burnt  up,  T.  iii.  717;  As.  ii.  4,53; 

G  811. 
Come,  s.  coming,  R.  7628;  G  343. 
Come,  7'.  come;  come  therby,  come  by  it,  ac- 
quire it,  G  1395;  Comestow,  comest  thou,  L. 

1887;  Cometh, />-.  s.  as  fut.  shall  come,  M.  P. 

iv.  11;  Comth,/r.  s.  comes,  B407;  Com,//,  s. 

came,  M.  P.  iii.   134;    Comen,  ger.  to  come, 

M.  P.  V.  76;  pt.  pi.  came,  L.  1241;  //.  come, 

B260;  ben  f^>«c«,  are  come,  B  1130;  Coomen, 

pi.  pi  came,  B  1805. 
Comeveden, /^ /A  influenced,  T.  iii.  17. 
Comlinesse,  s.   comeliness,  beauty,  M.   P.    iii. 

966. 
Commaundement,  s.  command,  H.  F.  2021. 
Commoeve,  ger.  to  move,  influence.  Bo.  IV.  p_. 

iv.  310.  "*' 

Commoevinge,  .r.  moving,  disturbing,  '^'  iS3 

iv.  7-  ,        ,.    ^^^ 

Commune,  adj.  general,  comr     £,j  '.  '"jv.   ^-  4ji- 
-Commune,  s.  the  commons,  ^-;o. 
Commune,  v.  commune,  converse,  G  982. 
Companye,  s.  comj  rnionship,  M.  P.  iv.   219 ; 

company,  B  ^34. 
Comparisoned,//.  compared,  Bo.  IT.  p.  vii.  129. 
Compas,   s.  compass,  circuit,  M.   P.   iv.   137;    a 

very  large  circle,  H.  F.  798;   craft,  contriving, 

H.  F.  462;  enclosure,  continent;  tryne compas, 

the  threefold  world,  containing  earth,  sea,  and 

heaven,  G  45;  Compace,  plan,  H.  F.  1170. 
Compasment,  s.  plotting,  L.  1416. 
Compassed,  //.  enclosed,  M.  p.  xi.  21;  //.  s. 

plotted,  planned,  L.  r4i4. 
Complexiouns,  //.    the    (four)    temperaments, 

H.  F.  21. 
Compleyne,  v.  complain,  lament,  M.  P.  iv.  93; 

Compleyneth,  imp.  pi.  lament  ye,  M.  P.   iv. 

290. 
Compleyninge,  s.  complaint,  L.  r357. 
Compleynt,   s.    complaint,    a   poem    so    called, 

M.  P    ii.  43;    iii.   464. 
Complisshen,  v.  accomplish.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iv.  27. 
Comporte,  ?'.  bear,  T.  V.  t397. 
Composiciouns,  s.  pi.  suitable  arrangements,  F 

229. 
Competent,  adj.  all-powerful,  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  59. 


8io 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Compouned, //.  compounded,  composed,  H.  F. 
io2g;  As.  ii.  5,  2;  mingled,  H.  F.  2108. 

Comprehende,  z>.  take  in  (in  the  mind),  F  223; 
Comprehended,  //.  expressed  in  a  brief  say- 
ing, summed  up,  M.  P.  vii.  83. 

Comunalitee,  j.  empire,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  442. 

Comune,  adj.  accustomed  to,  M.  P.  iii.  812; 
Comun  profit,  the  good  of  the  country,  M.  P. 

V.  47>  75- 
Comunly,  adv.  commonly,  E  726. 
Comuntee,  i'.  community,  R.  5209. 
Comyn,  j^.  cummin,  B  2045. 
Conclude,  v.  draw  a  conclusion,  B  14;  include, 

put   together,   G   429;    attain   to  a  successful 

result,  G  773. 
Conclusioun,  .r.  plan,  M.  P.  xv.  11;  as  in  con- 

chisioun,  after  all,  M.  P.  iv.  257;   moral  of  a 

tale,    L.   2723;     result,   successful   end  of  an 

experiment,  G  672;  reason,  F  492. 
Concours,  f.  course,  R.  4360. 
Condicioun,  s.    condition,  stipulation;    in  this 

condicioun,  upon  this  condition,  M.  P   v.  407. 
Conestablerye,   s.    constable's  jurisdiction,    R. 

4218. 
Confedred,  //.  rendered  confederates,  conjoined, 

M.  P.  ii.  42,  52. 
Confermeth,  imp.pl.  confirm,  strengthen,  M.  P. 

iv.  20. 

i^ture,  s.  composition,  C  862. 
.^hevaude,  v.  destroy,  M.  P.  i.  40;    //.  over- 

wh?f.-  v..  B  100;  destroyed  in  soul,  G  137. 
Confus,  adf.A}  "ifused,  H.   F.  1517;  //.  as  adj. 

convicted  of  foU^'',  G  463. 
Congeled,//.  congealed,  frozen,  H.  F.  1126. 
Congeyen,  v.  dismiss,  T.    ..479. 
Coniecte,  v.  conjecture,  R.  692b. 
Conies,  s.  pi.  conies,  rabbits,  R.  1404. 
Coninges,  j^.  //  conies,  R.  7044. 
Conioininge,  j.  conjunction,  G  95. 
Conisaunce,  s.  acquaintance,   R.  4668;    knowl- 
edge, R.  5465. 
Conne,^('r.  to  be  able,  M.  P.  iii.  279;   i  pr.  pi. 

know,  H.   F.   1265;    Conne,  v.  con,  learn,   B 

1730;   I  pr.  pi.  we  can,  are  able,  B  483;  pr.  s. 

subj.  he  may  know;  al  conne  he,  whether  he 

may  know,  G  846.     See  Can. 
Conning,  j.  skill,  knowledge,  L.  68. 
Conning,  adj.  skilful,  B  3690. 
Conningly,  adv.  skilfully,  E  1017. 
Conseil,  s.  council,  B  204;   counsel,  B  425. 
Conseileres, //.  councillors,  L.  1550. 
Conservatif,  adj.  preserving;    conservatif  the 

sonn,  preserving  the  sound,  H.  F.  847. 
Conserved,//,  preserved,  H.  F.  732. 
Consistorie,  s.  judgment-seat,  C  162. 
Conspiracye,  s.  plot,  B  3889. 
Constable,  s.  governor,  B  512. 
Constablesse,  s.  constable's  wife,  B  539. 


Constance,  j.  constancy,  E  658,  1000,  1008. 

Constellacioun,  .r.  constellation,  cluster  of  stars, 
F  129. 

Constreynetil,  pt.  s.  rejl.  contracted  herself. 
Bo.  I.  p.  i.  16;  pr.  s.  constrain,  E  800. 

Construeth,  imp.  pi.  construe,  interpret,  L.  152. 

Consulers,  .y.  pi.  consuls.  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  14. 

Consumpte, //.  //.  consumed.  Bo.  II.  m.  vii.  30. 

Contagious,  adj.  contiguous.  Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  5. 

Contek,  i.  strife,  A  2003. 

Contenance,  s.  pretence,  appearance,  G  1264; 
demeanor,  E  924;  self-possession,  E  11 10. 

Contene, /A  j-.  held  together,  Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  46. 

Contraire,  j.  the  contrary,  H.  F.  1540;  adver- 
sary, M.  P.  ii.  64. 

Contraire,  adj.  adverse,  L.  1360. 

Contrarie,  adj.  contrary,  B  3964;  in  contrarie, 
in  contradiction,  G  1477. 

Contrarien,  v.  to  go  contrary  to,  oppose,  F  705. 

Contree,  fatherland,  home.  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  134; 
country,  L.  5. 

Contree- ward,  to  his,  toward  his  country,  L. 
2176. 

Contre-houses,  //.  houses  of  his  country,  homes, 
M.  P.  vii.  25. 

Controve,  v.  contrive,  R.  7547. 

Contubernial,  s.  fellow-soldier,  I  760. 

Contune,  v.  continue,  R.  5205. 

Conveyen,  v.  convey,  introduce,  E  55;  Con- 
veyed,/^.//, accompanied,  went  as  convoy,  E 

391- 

Convict,//,  convicted  (of  evil),  overcome,  M. 
P.  i.  86. 

Conyes,  //.  rabbits,  conies,  M.  P.  v.  193. 

Cool,  adj.  unimaginative,  dull,  L.  (A)  258. 

Coomen,  pt.  pi.  came,  B  1805.    See  Come. 

Cop,  J.  summit,  Bo.  II.  m.  iv.  7. 

Cope,  s.  vault,  L.  1527. 

Coper,  .f.  copper,  H.  F.  1487;  G  829. 

Coppe,  .y.  hill-top,  H.  F.  1166;  cup,  A  134. 

Corage,  s.  mind,  M.  P.  iii.  794;  heart,  mind,  L. 
397;  courage,  B  1970;  will,  E  907;  feeling, 
disposition,  E  220;  of  his  corage,  in  his  dispo- 
sition, F  22. 

Corbettes,  //.  corbels,  H.  F.  1304. 

Cordewane,  s.  Cordovan  leather,  B  1922. 

Corfew-tyme,  s.  curfew-time,  about   8  p.m.,  A 

3645- 
Corige,  v.  correct;  pr.  s.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vii.  42. 
Cormeraunt,  .r.  cormorant,  M.  P.  V.  362. 
Corn,   .f.  grain,  C  863;    Comes,  //.  cornfields, 

pieces  of  standing  corn,  B  3225;  grains  of  corn, 

H.  F.  698. 
Cornemuse,  s.  bagpipe,  H.  F.  1218. 
CorniCUlere,  j.  registrar,  secretary,  G  369. 
Corny,  adj.  applied  to  ale,  strong  of  the  corn  or 

malt,  C  315,  456. 
Corosif ,  adj.  corrosive,  G  853. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


8ii 


Coroumpinge,  s.  corruption,  Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  90. 

Coroun,  .1.  crown,  L.  216;  the  constellation 
called'  the  Northern  Crown,"  L.  2224;  Coroune, 
crown,  M.  P.  ii.  58:  Corone,  crown,  garland, 
E381. 

Corouned,  //.  crowned,  L.  242;  B  3555. 

Corps,  s.  dead  body,  M.  P.  ii.  19:  F  519. 

Corpus,  s.  body;  Corpus  Dominus,  false  Latin 
for  corpus  Domitii,  the  body  of  the  Lord,  B 
1625;  Corpus  Madrian,  the  body  of  St.  Ma- 
thurin,  B  3082;  Corpus  bones,  an  intentionally 
nonsensical  oath,  composed  of  '  corpus  domini,' 
the  Lord's  body,  and  '  bones,'  C  314. 

Correccioun,  s.  correction,  I  60. 

Corrumpable,  adj.  corruptible,  A  3010. 

Corrumpeth,  pr.  s.  (everything)  becomes  cor- 
rupt, L.  2237;  Corrumped, //.  f .  corrupted,  I 
819. 

Cors,  s.  body,  L.  676;  corpse,  C  665. 

Corseynt,  s.  a  saint  (lit.  holy  body);  esp.  a 
shrine,  H.  F.  117. 

Corumpe,  v.  become  corrupt,  Bo.  IIL  p.  xi,  65. 

Corve,  //.  cut,  L.  2695.    See  Kerveth. 

Corven,  //.  cut,  M.  P.  v.  425;  carved,  H.  F. 
1295. 

Cos,  i.  kiss,  R.  3663. 

Cost,  s.  coast,  place,  R.  3931;  choice,  condition; 
Nedes  cost,  of  necessity  (lit.  by  condition  of 
necessity),  L.  2697;  cost,  B  3564. 

Costage,  s.  cost,  expense,  outlay,  E  1126. 

Coste,  s.  the  coast,  B  1626. 

Costeying,  pr.  pt.  coasting,  skirting,  R.  134. 

Costrel,  J.  flask,  kind  of  bottle,  L.  2666. 

Cote,  s.  a  cot,  E  398. 

Cote,  s.  a  coat,  outer  garment,  used  of  a  part  of 
a  woman's  apparel,  E  913. 

Cote-armour,  s.  coat  with  armorial  bearings,  B 
2056. 

Cote-armure,  j.  surcoat,  H.  F.  1326. 

Couche,  V.  to  cower,  E  1206. 

Couchen,  v.  lay,  R.  6903;  Couched,  pt.  s.  laid 
down,  laid  in  order,  M.  P.  v.  216. 

Coude,  pt.  s.  knew,  M.  P.  iii.  667;  coude  no 
good,  knew  nothing  that  was  good,  was  un- 
trained, M.  P.  iii.  390;  Coud,  //.  known,  M. 
P.  iii.  787;  Coude,  i  pt.  s.  could,  was  able,  L. 
1 16 ;  pt.  s.  knew ;  coude  her  good,  knew  what 
was  for  Dido's  good,  L.  1182.  See  Can, 
Couthe. 

Counsaile,  /;«/.  j.  counsel,  M.  P.  i.  155. 

Counseyl,  s.  secret,  AL  P.  v.  348. 

Countenaunce,  s.  appearance,  show,  M.  P.  x. 
34:  looks,  appearance,  AL  P.  iii.  613;  showing 
favor,  M.  P.  iii.  1022. 

Counterfete,  v.  render  exactly,  repeat,  M.  P. 
iii.  1241.    See  Countrefete. 

Countour,  s.  arithmetician,  M.  P.  iii.  435;  audi- 
tor, A  359. 


Countour,  s.  abacus,  counting-board,  ^L  P.  iii. 

436. 

Countrefete,  ?'.  counterfeit,  copy,  H.  F.  1212; 
Countrcfcted, //.  feigned,  M.  P.  iii.  869.  See 
Counterfete. 

Countrepeise,  7<.  cause  to  balance  each  other, 
render  equivalent,  H.  F.  1750. 

Countrepleted,  //.  made  the  subject  of  plead- 
ings and  counter-pleadings,  argued  against,  L. 
476. 

Countre-taille,  .s.  counter-tally,  E  1190. 

Countrewayte,  v.  watch  against,  B  2509. 

Coupe,  s.  cup,  L.  1122. 

Coured,  pt.  s.  cowered,  R.  463. 

Cours,  s.  course,  ^L  P.  iv.  55;  L.  1340. 

Coursere,  j.  courser,  horse,  L.  1114. 

Courtepy,  s.  cape,  A  290. 

Couth,  //.  plain,  evident,  R.  4213;  known,  E 
942. 

Couthe,  I  //.  s.  knew,  M.  P.  iii.  800;  could,  M. 
P.  iii.  759.     See  Coude. 

Couthe,  adv.  in  a  known  way,  manifestly,  H. 
F.  757. 

Coveityse,  s.  covetousness,  C  424. 

Covenable,  adj.  fit,  proper,  M.  P.  xviii.  25; 
agreeable,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  245;  congruous.  Bo. 
III.  p.  xii.  198;   suitable,  I  80. 

Covent,  s.  conventual  body,  the  monks  compos- 
ing the  conventual  body,  B  1827;  convent,  G 
1007, 

CoverchiefS,  j.  //.  kerchiefs,  A  453. 

Covercle,  s.  pot-lid,  H.  F.  792.  -''• 

Covered,  //.  recovered  from,  healeC  'T,  «mtf  m 
pt.  s.  covered,  E  914. 

Coveloiir.  j.-one  who  covets,  M.  P.  iv.  262. 

Covetyse,  s.  covetousness,  M.  P.  ix.  32;  L.  136. 

Covyne,  .r.  craft,  intriguing,  R.  3799. 

Coward,  adj.  cowardly,  B  3100. 

Coy,  adj.  shy,  L.  1548;  adj.  or  adv.  quiet, 
E2. 

Coye,  V.  quiet,  T.  ii.  801. 

Coyn,  s.  coin,  M.  P.  ix.  20;   E  1168. 

Coynes,  s.pl.  quinces,  R.  1374. 

Crabbed,  adj.  shrewish,  cross,  bitter,  E  1203. 

Cracching,  i.  scratching,  A  2834. 

Cradel,  .r.  cradle,  G  122. 

Craft,  s.  art,  M.  P.  v.  i;  skill,  way  of  doing  a 
thing,  F  185;  secret  power,  might,  B  3258 
subtle  contrivance,  F  249. 

Craftily,  adv.  cunningly,  skilfully,  B  48. 

Crafty,  s.  skilful,  sensible,  M.  P.  iii.  439. 

Crafty,  adj.  skilful,  clever,  G  1290. 

Craketh,/r.  s.  sings  hoarsely,  E  1850. 

Crampissheth,  pr.  s.  draws  convulsively  to- 
gether, M.  P.  vii.  171. 

erased,//,  cracked,  G  934. 

Creat,  adj.  created,  M.  P.  xvi.  2. 

Creatour,  s.  Creator,  C  901. 


8l2 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Creaunce,  s.  belief,  credence,  M.  P.  i.  6i;  creed, 

B  915;  Creance,  object  of  faith,  B  340. 
Creaunce,  v.  get  credit,  B  1479;    creanced,  //. 

raised  on  credit,  B  1556. 
Crece,  s.  increase,  R.  4875. 
Crede,  j.  creed,  belief,  G  1047. 
Credence,  s.  belief,  credence,  L.  20. 
Crekes,  s.//.  devices,  A  4051. 
Crepe,  v.  creep,  B  3627;  Crepeth,  pr.  s.  E  1134. 
Crepul,  J.  cripple,  T.  iv.  1458. 
Crevace,  s.  crevice,  crack,  H.  F.  2086. 
Crinkled,  //.  full  of  turns  or  cranks,  L.  2012. 
Crips,  ad/,  crisp,  curly,  H.  F.  1386. 
Crista],  ai/f.  crystal,  C  347. 
Cristemasse,  s.  Christmas,  B  126,  1730. 
Cristen,  adj.  Christian,  B  222. 
Cristendom,   s.   the  Christian    religion,   B  351 ; 

Christianity,  G  447. 
Cristenly,  adv.  in  a  Christian  manner,  B  1122. 
Cristianitee,  s.  company  of  Christians,  B  544. 
Cristned,//.  baptized,  B  226;  G  352. 
Cristofre,  s.  image  of  St.  Christopher  worn  as 

an  amulet,  A  115. 
Croce,  s.  cross,  crozier,  R.  6470. 
Crois,  s.  cross,  M.  P.  i.  60.     See  Cros. 
Crokes,//.  crooks,  hooks,  L.  640. 
Crokke,  ^.  earthenware  pot,  M.  P.  xiii.  12 
Crommes,  s.  />/.  crumbs,  G  60. 
Crone,  s.  crone,  hag,  B  432. 
Crop,  J.  top,  summit,  T.  v.  25. 
Cropen, //.  crept,  A  4259. 
Ccroper,  i.  crupper,  G  566. 

„„„i.;.R,-«  ./''  tops,  M.  P.  iii.  424. 
Cros,  J.  cross,  M.  f.  I.  8^.     See  Crois. 
Croslet,  J.  a  crucible,  G  1147  ;  Cru-,.'>let..p'  '-y  • 
Crouche,  pr.  s.  sign  with  the  cross,  A  3479- 
Croude,  v.  crowd,  push,  H.  F.  2095;  Crowdest, 

2  />r.  s.  dost  press,  dost  push,  B  296. 
Crouke,  j.  crock,  A  4158 
Croune,  j.  crown,  head,  H.  F.  1825. 
Crouned,  //.  crowned,  M.  P.  i.  144;  crowned, 

if.  supreme,  F  526.     See  CorOUned. 
Crowding,  i.  pressure,  motive  power,  B  299. 
Croweth,  />r.  s.  rejl.;  him  croweth,  crows,  C 

362. 
Crownet,  s.  coronet,  R.  3203. 
Croys,  J',  cross,  B  450;  C  532;  E  556. 
Crul,  adj.  pi.  curly,  A  81. 
Cubyte,  s.  cubit,  H.  F.  1370. 
Cucurbites,  .r.  //.  flasks  for  distilling,  G  794. 
Cukkow,  s.  cuckoo,  M.  P.  V.  358. 
Culpe,  i.  guilt,  I  336. 

Cunne,  v.  be  able,  H.  F.  2CX34. 

Cunning,  s.  skill,  M,  P.  v.  167,  487. 

Cure,  .J.  heed,  care,  M.  P.  ii.  82;  H.  F.  1298;  / 
do  no  cure,  I  care  not,  L.  152;  lyth  in  his 
cure,  depends  on  whether  he  cares  for  me,  L. 
1176;  remedy,  cure,  M.    P.   v.   128;    did  his 


besy   cure,   was   busily   employed,    M.    P.   v. 

369;  his  lyves  cure,  the  object  of  his  thoughts 

always,  M.  P.  iv.  131;  charge,  Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  35; 

care,  endeavor,  B  188;  honest  cure  =  care  for 

honorable  things,  C  557;  in  cure  =  in  her  care, 

in  her  power,  B  230. 
Cures,  s.  pi.  cares,  pursuits,  E  82. 
Curiositee,  s.  intricacy,  M.  P.  xviii.  81. 
Curre,  s.  cur,  L.  396. 

Currours,  s.pl.  runners,  couriers,  H.  F.  2128. 
Cursedly,  adv.  wickedly,  abominably,  B  3419. 
Cursednesse,  i.  malice,  B   1821;   wickedness,  B 

357s;  shrewishness,  E  1239. 
Curteisly,  adv.  courteously,  B  1636. 
Curteisye,  s.  courtesy,   refinement,  B  3686;  E 

74:   F95. 
Curteyn,  j.  curtain,  M.  P.  v.  240. 
Customere,  adj.  accustomed,  R.  4936. 
Cut,  s.  a  lot,  C  793. 
Cutted,  //.  cut  short,  L.  973. 


Daf ,  i.  fool,  A  4208. 

Dagginge,  j.  slitting,  I  418. 

Dagon,  s.  fragment,  D  1751. 

Dale,  i.  the  dale,  M    P.  v.  327. 

Daliance,  Daliaunce,  j.  favor,  L.  356;  playful 
demeanor;  he  doth  daliaunce,  he  behaves  play- 
fully and  good-naturedly,  B  1894. 

Damage,  j.  pity,  loss,  L.  598. 

Dame,  s.  mother,  C  684. 

Dampnable,  adj.  damnable,  C  472. 

Dampnacioun,  s.  damnation,  C  500. 

x/tti„pne,  I  pr.  s.  condemn,  M.  P.  x.  49; 
Dampned,//.  condemned,  M.  P.  iii.  725. 

Dan,  .J.  as  epithet  of  persons.  Sir,  H.  F.  161. 
See  Daun. 

Dar,  I  pr.  s.  dare,  M.  P.  i.  53;  Darstow,  darest 
thou,  L.  1450;  Darst,  2  pr.  s.  darest,  B  860; 
Dorste,  pt.  s.  durst,  B  753.     See  Dorste. 

Dare,  v.  daze,  D  1294. 

Darketh,/r.  5.  lies  in  the  dark,  lies  hid,  L.  816. 

Darreyne,  v.  contest,  A  1609. 

Daswed,//.  dazed,  confused,  H.  F.  658;  Das- 
wen,//.  //.  daze,  are  dazed,  are  dazzled,  H  31. 

Date,  s.  a  date,  term,  period,  G  1411. 

Daun,  i.  lord,  sir,  A  1379;   Dan,  B  3982. 

Daunce,  s.  dance,  set,  H.  F.  639. 

Daunce,  v.  to  dance,  B  r26;  Dauncen,/r  //  F 
272;  Daunceden, /i. //.  danced,  M.  P.  v.  232. 

Dauncing-chambres,    pi.    dancing-rooms,    L. 

1 106. 
Daungere,    i^.    influence,    dominion,    R.    1470; 

Danger,  Power  to  Harm  (personified),  M.  P. 

V.  136. 
Daungerous,  adj.  difficult  to  please,  B  2129. 
Daunte  thyself,  imp.  s.  subdue  thyself,  M    P. 


GLOS^ARIAL   INDEX. 


8r3 


xiii.  13;   Dauntest,  2  f>r.  s.  tamest,  M    P.  v. 

114. 
Dawe,   7'.   to   dawn,   B   3872;     Daweth,  />r.   s. 

dawns,  L.  46. 
Dawening,  j.  dawning,  dawn,  L.  1188. 
Dawes,  i.  //.  days,  R.  2838. 
Dawing,  s.  dawn,  T.  iii.  1466. 
Day,  s.  day ;  also,  an  appointed  day  for  the  pay- 
ment of  a  sum  of  money,  G  1040;  day,  time,  1! 

3374;  Dayes,//.  days,  lifetime,  B  118;  /town 

(iiiyes,  now-a-days,  at  this  time,  E  1164. 
Dayeseye,  s.  daisy,  L.  182;   Daysie,  L.  224. 
Debaat,  j.  strife,  G  1389. 
Debat,  s.   struggle,   mental   conflict,  M.   P.  iii. 

1 192;  debate,  strife,  war,  H  130. 
Debate,  v.  to  fight,  war,  B  2058. 
Debonaire,  adj.   gracious,    M.    P.    i.   6;    as  s. 

kind  person,  M.  P.  iii.  624. 
Debonairly,  adv.  graciously,  kindly,  M.  P.  iii. 

851;  courteously,  M.  P.  iii.  518;  gently,  T.  ii. 

1259;    Debonerly,  with   kindness,   M.   P.  vii. 

127. 
Debonairtee,  .r.  graciousness,  M.  P.  vi.  108. 
Deceivable,  adj.  capable   of  deceiving,  full  of 

deceit,  M.  P.  xv.  3;   Deceyvable,  M.  P.  xviii. 

43- 
Declaring,  s.  declaration,  B  3172. 
Declyneth,  />r.  s.  turns  aside.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  212. 
Declyninge,  adj.  sloping,  Bo.  V.  m.  i.  20. 
Decoped,//.  slit,  R.  843. 
Dede,  //.  dead,  A  942.    See  Deed. 
Dede,  s.  dat.  deed,  M.  P.  i.  45;  in  dede  =  indeed, 

in  reality,  B  351 1. 
Dede,  ger.  s.  to   grow  dead,  become  stupefied, 

H.  F.  552. 
Deduyt,  s.  delight,  A  2177. 
Deed,  adj.  dead,  M.  P.  ii.  14;   //.  as  adj.  dead, 

B  2og;  //.   dead,  F  287;    Dede,//.  sluggish, 

M.  P.  V.  187;     7viy/t    7U0Ttndes    dede,  deadly 

wriund.s,  M.  P.  iii.  1211. 
Deedly,  adj.  deathly,  dying,  L.  885. 
Deedly,  adv.  deadly,  mortally,  G  476. 
Deef,  adj  deaf,  A  446. 
Deel,  J",  share,  part,  bit,   H.   F.   331;  //.    times, 

M.  P.  vi.  35.     See  Del. 
Deer,  s.  pi.  animals,  B  1926. 
Dees,  J.  dais,  H.  F.  1360,  1658. 
Dees,  s.  pi.  dice,  T.  ii.  1347;   F  690. 
Deeth,  s.  death,  B  3567;   E  36,  510. 
Deface,  v.  to  obliterate,  E.  510. 
Defame,  s.  dishonor,  C  612.    See  Diffame. 
Defaute,  j^.  lack,  want,  M.  P.  iii.  5;  defect,  M. 

P.   xxii,   56;     E    1018:    fault   (hunting   term), 

ivere  on  a  defaute  y-falle,  had  a  check,  M.  V. 

iii.   384;     default,    fault,    wickedness,   B    3718; 

fault,  sin,  C  370. 
Defence,  j.  concealment,  covering,  M.  P.  v.  273; 

resistance,  L.  1931;  prohibition,  R.  1142. 


Defenden,  v.  to  forbid,  C  590. 

Defet,//   enfeebled,  T.  v.  618. 

Defoulen, /»/.  disgraced.  Bo.  IV.  m.  vii.  54. 

Degyse,  adj.  fashionable,  I  417. 

Degree,  s.  footstep.  Bo.  IV.  m.  i.  47;  horizontal 
stripes.  Bo.  1.  p.  i.  42;   rank,  A  1168. 

Degrees,  s  pi.  degrees  of  the  zodiac,  F  386. 

DekneS,  j.  //,  deacons,  G  547. 

Del,.r.  part,  bit,  whit,  M.  P.  iii.  937;  share,  M.  P. 
iii.  1001 ;  part;  every  del,  every  whit,  entirely, 
G  1269:  //.  times,  H.  F.  1495;  a  gret  del,  a 
great  deal,  very  often,  M.  P.  iii.  1159;  never 
a  del,  not  a  whit,  M.  P.  iii.  543.     Sec  Deel. 

TieXti.,  pt.  pi.  dealt,  had  intercourse,  L.  1517. 

Delicacye,  s.  luxury,  wantonness,  M.  P.  ix.  58; 
Dclicasye,  M.  P.  v.  359. 

Delices.  i-.  //.  tender  feelings,  P.O.  II,  p.  iv.  87; 
sinful  pleasures.  Bo.  III.  p.  vii.  i. 

Delitably,  adv.  pleasingly.  Bo.  IV.  p.  i.  2. 

Deliver,  adj.  active,  A  84. 

Delivere,  ger.  to  let  go  away,  set  free  (after  a 
legal  decision  has  been  passed),  M.  P.  v.  508; 
Delivered,  //./  to  ben  delivered,  to  be  let  go 
(after  the  sentence  has  been  passed),  M.  P.  v. 
491. 

Deliverly,  adv.  adroitly,  B  4606. 

Delivernesse,  .f.  agility,  I  452. 

Delphyn,  s.  the  constellation  T^  '  "-  or  the 
Dolphin,  H.  F.  1006.  § .«.  p.  i 

Delte, /^.  s.  dealt,  G  1074.  ^  o     np 

Delve,  V.  to  dig  up,  F  638;   D3li,'7.7)i.  s.  dug 
Bo.  V.  p,  i.  in;   Dolve, //.  j.  j«/y'.  had  digged,    •\ 
Bo.  V.  p.  i.  97. 

Delyces,  s.  pi.  favorites.  Bo,  II.  p.  iii.  81; 
delights,  pleasures,  C  547;  G  3. 

Delye,  adj.  delicate,  fine,  I'o.  I.  p.  i.  25. 

Delyt,  .r.  delight,  M.  P.  iii.  6q6:  pk'5SJiig-X)':na- 
mentation,  L.  1x99. 

Delytable,  adj.  delightful,  L.  321. 

Delyte,  7'.  delight,  please,  M.  P.  v.  27;  rejl. 
t.ike  pleasure,  M.  P.  v.  66. 

Delyte  me,  i/r.  s.  refl.  delight,  am  delighttl, 
L.  30. 

Delyting,  pr.  pt.  delighting,  E  997. 

Demandes,  s.  pi.  questions,  E  348. 

Demaunde,  s.  demand,  question,  B  472. 

Deme,  i'.  judge,  M.  P.  xiv.  6;  suppose,  B  1030; 
give  a  verdict,  G  595:  Demeth,  pr.  s.  passes 
an  opinion,  M.  P.  v.  166;  fancies,  G  689: 
Demeth,  imp.  pi.  judge,  L.  453:  suppose  ye, 
G  993;  Demed,  //  //.  (people)  thought,  L, 
1244:   Demen,  to  give  judgment,  B  1639. 

Demeine,  i'.  manage,  H.  F.  959. 

Demen,  7'.  judge,  B  3045. 

Demene,  7'.  endure,  R.  5238. 

Demeyne,  s.  dominion,  B  3855. 
Denye,  v..-  Dcncyed,//.  denied.  Bo.  III.  p.  x. 
■7- 


8i4 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Depardieux,    interj.    on    the    part    of  God,   by 

God's  help,  B  39. 
Departe,  v.  part,  separate,  M.  P   vii.  285;  part, 

L.   897;    distinguish,    T.    iii.    404;    Departen, 

pr.  pi.  sever,  M.  P.  iv.  207;   Departed,  //.  s. 

parted,  B  1158;  divided,  C  812. 
Departinge,  s.   parting,   separation,   departure, 

M.  P.  V.  675. 
Depe,  adv.  deeply,  L.  1234;   B  4. 
Depe,  adj.  deep,  B  3988. 
Depe,  s.  the  deep,  the  sea,  B  455. 
Depeynted,  //.   covered  with  paintings,  M.  P. 

iii.  322;  depicted,  painted,  L.  1025. 
Depper,  adi>.  covip.  deeper,  B  630. 
Dere,  adj.  dear,  M.  P.  iv.  147;  //.  F  272. 
Dere,  adv.  dearly,  M.  P.   i.   86;    to  dere,  too 

dearly,  C  293. 
Dere,  v.  injure,  wound,  harm,  F  240. 
Dereling,  s.  darling,  A  3793. 
Derk,  adj.   dark,   M.   P.  iii.   170;   inauspicious, 

M.    P.   iv.  120;    as  s.,  inauspicious  position, 

M.  P.  iv.  122. 
Derke,  .9.  darkness,  gloom,  M.  P.  iii.  609. 
Derked,  //.  grown  dim,  M.  P.  x.  36. 
Derkest,  adj.  snperl.  darkest,  B  304. 
Derne,  adj.  secret,  A  3200. 
Derre,  adv.  comp   more  dearly,  A  1448. 


Ties   i.  "'  ^-  deception.  Bo.  III.  p.  viii.  58. 


Desce 

Desce)  ^   c--^'  ■^'  f^-   vessels  for  extracting  oil, 

G  79'- : 

D'^sclaundred,  pp.  slandered,  B  674. 
Descry ve,  v.  describe,  H.  F.  1105. 
Desert,  s.  desert,  deserving,  merit,  F  532. 
Deserte,  adj.  desert,   lonely,  H.  F.  417. 
Desespaired,//.  out  of  hope,  in  despair,  M.  P. 

vi.  7. 
Be^JJCOUS..(ir^'.     rdent,  F  23. 
Deslavee,  adj.  unbriJIed,  I  629. 
Desolaat,  adj.  deserted,  alone;  holden  desolaat, 

shunned,  C  598. 
De'jOlat,  adj.  desolate,  M.  P.  iv.  286;  desoiute, 

I.e.  void  of,  lacking  in,  B  131. 
Desordeynee,  adj.  inordinate,  I  818. 
Desordinat,  adj  disorderly,  I  415. 
Despeired,  //.    put   in   despair,   M.   P.  ii.  91; 

filled  with  despair,  B  3645. 
Despence,  j.  expenses,  expenditure,  money  for 

expenses,  B  105.     See  Dispence. 
Despendest,  1  pr.  s.  spendest,  wastest,  B  2121. 
Desperacioun.  s.  despair,  M.  P.  i.  21. 
Despit,  J.   spite,   B  591;  vexation,  dishonor,  B 

699. 
Despitous,  adj.  hateful,  M.   P.  xxii.   12.     See 

Dispitouse. 
DespitOUSly,  adv.  despitefully,  maliciously,   B 

605.     See  Dispitously. 
Desport,  s.  amusement,  sport,  G  592.     See  Dis- 
port. 


Despyse,  v.  to  despise,  B  115. 

Despyt,  s.  despite,  scorn,  L  372;  malice,  L. 
1771;  in  his  despyt,  in  scorn  of  him,  L.  134; 
despite,  a  deed  expressive  of  contempt,  B 
3738;  in  your  despyt  =  in  spite  of  you,  in  con- 
tempt of  you,  B  1753. 

Despyte,  j.  disdain,  M.  P.  xxiii.  18. 

Desray,  .r.  disarray,  confusion,  I  927. 

Destemperaunce,  s.  inclemency.  Bo.  in.  p.  xi. 

148. 

Destinal,  adj.  fatal,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  187:  predes- 
tined. Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  119. 

Destourbe,  v.  to  disturb;  destflurbe  of,  to  dis- 
turb in,  C  340. 

Destourbing,  j.  disturbance,  trouble,  M.  P. 
xviii.  44. 

Destrat,//.  distracted.  Bo.  III.  p.  viii.  20. 

Destreyne.    See  Distreyne. 

Destroubled, //.  disturbed,  M.  P.  iii.  524. 

Determyne,  v.  come  to  an  end,  T.  iii.  379;  de- 
termined, //.  settled.  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  10;  Deter- 
mynen,  2  pr.  pi.  end,  H.  F.  343. 

Dette,  s.  debt,  L.  541. 

Deve,  adj.  pi.  deaf,  G  286. 

Deviaunt,  adj.  divergent,  R.  4789. 

Devil;  a  twenty  devil  ivay,  in  the  way  of 
twenty  devils,  i  e.  to  utter  destruction,  L.  2177. 

Devoided,  //.  banished,  R.  2929. 

Devoir,  s.  duty,  B  38;   E  966. 

Devyne,,^^r.  to  divine,  to  prophesy  (by),  M.  P. 
V.  182;  pr.  s.  subj.  let  (him)  guess,  H.  F.  14. 

Devys,  adj.  exact;  at  point  devys,  with  great 
exactitude,  H.  F.  917. 

Devys,  s.  device,  L.  1102;  Devyses,//.  heraldic 
devices,  badges,  L.  1272. 

Devyse,  v.  devise,  suggest,  ordain,  L.  437;  plan, 
L.  1453;  ger.  to  relate,  tell,  B  154  ;  to  describe, 
F  65;  to  plan,  E  698;  to  frame,  E  739;  Devy- 
sen,  V.  tell,  M.  P.  v.  333;  imagine,  E  108; 
Devyse,  i /r.  j.  say,  M  T>  jv  18;  relate,  L. 
202;  I  *»"!!,  B  3693;  Devyse,  pr.  pi.  imagine, 
discourse,  F  261 ;  Devyseth,  pr.  s.  tells,  de- 
scribes, M.  P.  v.  317. 

Dextrer,  s.  a  courser,  war-hor.se;  B  2103. 

Deye,  v.  die,  M.  P.  v.  469;  Deyen,  v.  die,  E 
665;  Deyde,  pt.  s.  died,  C  580;  Deyeth,  />r.  s. 
dies,  G  1436;  Deyed,//.  B  1841;  Deydest,//. 
,r.  didst  die,  T.  iii.  263. 

Deyen,  j^er.  to  dye,  to  dip.  Bo.  IV  m.  vi.  16. 

Deyinge,  s.  dying,  death,  B  1850. 

Deyneth,  impers.  pr.  s.  ;  ne  deyneth  him,  he 
deigns  not,  troubles  not,  M.  P.  vii.  181;  hrr 
deyned,pt.  s.  she  deigned,  M.  P.  iv.  39;  lieyned 
hitn,  pt.  s.  it  deigned  him,  i.e.  he  deigned,  B 

3324- 
Deynte,  s.  value;  took  lesse  deynte  for,  set  less 

value  on,  M.  P.  vii.  143. 
Deyntee,  i.  delight,  pleasure,  L.  206;   a  pleasant 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


8i5 


thing,  L.  290;   pleasure,  B  139;   F  681;   Dcyn- 
tees,  //.  dainties,  F  301. 

Deyntee,  adj.  dainty,  pleasant,  rare,  B  1901 ;  C 
520:   E  1112;   F  70 

Deynteuous,  adj.  dainty,  E  265. 

Deys,  J.  dais,  F  59. 

Diademe,  j.  diadem,  crown  of  an  emperor,  M.  V. 
xiv.  7. 

Dichen,  v.  make  a  dyke  round,  L.  708. 

Did,  pt.  s.  made,  caused,  M.  P.  v.  145;  Pide, 
did,  M.  P.  iii.  373;  dide  of,  took  off,  M.  P.  iii 
516:  Dide,  pt.  s.  put  on,  B  2047;  dide  hem 
drawc  =  caused  to  be  drawn,  B  1823.    See  Doon. 

Dide.     Sec  Did. 

Diffame,  s.  evil  name,  ill  report,  E  540, 730.  See 
Defame. 

Diffame,  g^er.  to  defame,  rob  of  fame,  H.  F.  1581. 

Diffinisshe,  /r.  s.  sulj.  define.  Bo.  V,  p.  i.  40, 

Diffusioun,  s.  diffu.sencss,  T.  iii.  296. 

Dlffyne,  ^vr.  define,  state  clearly,  M.  P.  v.  529; 
DilTynen,  2 /r. //.  conclude,  H.  F.  344. 

Dighte,  V.  diglit,  prepare,  L.  12S8;  prepare 
(himselQ,  L.  1000;  dighte  me,  prepare  myself 
to  go,  B  3104;  Dighte  him,  //.  i.  betook  him- 
self, L.  2155;  //.  pi.  betook  themselves,  L. 
1712;   Pighte,//.  //.  prepared,  L.  2611. 

Digne,  ndj  worthy,  honorable,  \j.  321;  worthy, 
noble,  B  1175;  worthy,  honored,  C  695;  suit- 
able, B  778. 

Digneliche,  adv.  haughtily,  T.  ii.  1024. 

Dignitee,  .r.  dignity,  rank,  E  470. 

Dilatacioun,  5.  diffuseness,  B  232. 

Direct,  „dj.  liirecKd,  ^ddresjeH^  M.-P.  xvuirVs. 

Disavaunce,  v.  hinder,  T.  ii.  511. 

Dischevele,  adj.  with  dishevelled  hair,  with 
hair  in  disorder,  L.  1315. 

Discomfiture,  j  discomfort,  grief,  M.  P.  vii.  326. 

Discorden,  /r  //  disagree.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  226. 

Discordinge,  adj.  different.  Bo.  III.  p.  ii.  156. 

Discovere,  -'.  to  reveal,  G  1465. 

Discreven,  v.  describe,  R.  4803. 

Discripcioun,  s.  description,  F  580. 

Discryve,  ger.  to  describe,  M.  P.  iii.  916;  Dis- 
crj-vcth,//.  s.  describes.  E  43. 

Discure,  v.  reveal,  discover,  M.  P.  iii.  549. 

Discussed,  driven  away,  Bo.  I.  m.  iii.  i. 

Disdeyn,  ,f.  disdain,  contempt,  F  700. 

Disdeyne,  t'.  to  disdain,  E  98. 

Disencreseth,  pr.  s.  decreases.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  95. 

Disese,  s.  discomfort,  misery,  M.  P.  iv.  216;  dis- 
comfort, source  of  pain,  distress,  B  3961;  mis- 
ery, F  467;  lack  of  ease,  trouble,  distress, 
misery,  B  616;  G  747;   H  97. 

Disesperat,  adj.  hopeless,  without  hope,  H.  F. 
2015. 

Disflgurat,  adj.  disguised,  M.  P.  v.  222. 

Disherited,  //.  disinherited,  L.  1065. 

Disjoint,  s.  perilous  situation,  peril,  L.  1631. 


Dismalle,  .s   unlucky  day,  M.  P.  iii.  1206. 
Disobeysaunt,  adj.  disobedient,  M.  P.  v.  429. 
Disordinaunce,  s.  irregularity,  violation  of  rules, 

H    F.  27. 
Disparage,  s.  disparagement,  disgrace,  E  908. 
Dispence,  s.  favor,  H.  K.  260;   expense,  expen- 
diture, E  1209.    See  Despence. 
Dispende,  v.  to  spend,  B  3500. 
DispitOUSe',  adj.  fern,   despiteful,  cruel,  M.  V 

iii.  024.     See  DespitOUS. 
Dispitously,  adi'    despitefully,  cruelly,     H    K 

161     Sec  Despitously. 
Displesances,  s.   pi.  displeasures,  annoyances, 

C  420. 
Dispoilen,  v.  to  despoil,  i  e.  strip,  E  374 
Dispone,  pr.  s.  disposes,  orders,  regulates,  I'o. 

IV.  p.  vi.  66;  imp.  dispo.se,  T.  v.  300. 
Disport,  J.  amusement,  pastime,  sport,  M.  V.  iv. 

177;   pleasure,  B  143.     See  Desport. 
Disporte,  ^t-r.  to  cheer,  amuse,  H.  F.  571. 
Disposed,  //.  inclined;  ivel  disposed,  in   good 

health  (the  converse  oi  indisposed) ,  H  33. 
Dispoylinge,  i-.  spoil.  Bo.  IV.  m.  vii.  38. 
Disrewlily,  adv.  irregularly,  R.  4900. 
Disseise,  v.  dispossess,  R.  2076. 
Dissever,  pr.  s.  snfij.  sever,  M.  P.  iv.  49:  //. 

separated.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  21;  ger.  to  part,  G 

875. 
Disseveraunce,  s.  severing.  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  72, 
Disshevele.   adj.  pi.   with  hair  flowing   <'  '"' 

M.  P.  V   235.  ^7- 

Dissimulacions, //.  dissimulations,  H. 
Dissimuleth, />>:  .'r  dissiKViiSis; ^{^J^ ^'t. 

G  466.  '  -^ 

Dissimulinge,  s.  dissembling,  G  1073. 
Dissimulour,  s.  dissembler,  M.  P.  x.  23. 
Disslaundred,//.  defamed,  L.  1031. 
Dissolveth, /r.  s.  puts  an  end  to,  Bo.  II.  p.  iii. 

lOI. 

Distempre,  adj.  distempered,  furious.  Bo.  IV. 
p.  iii.  140. 

Disteyne,!'.  stain,  bedim,  dull,  L.  255. 

Distincte,  v.  distinguish,  R.  6199. 

Distingwed,//.  distinguished.  Bo.  II.  p.  v.  83. 

Distoned,  //.  put  out  of  tune,  R.  4248. 

Distreyne,  v.  get  into  his  grasp,  clutch,  M.  V. 
XX.  8;  Distreyneth,  /r.  s.  grasps,  clutches, 
M.  P.  V.  337;  Destreyneth,  vexes,  constrains, 
A  1455. 

Disturbaunce,  .f.  disturbance;  t/ty  disturh- 
au}ice,  the  disturbance  thou  hadst  to  endure, 
M.  P.  iv.  107. 

Disturne,  v.  turn  aside,  T.  iii.  718. 

Ditee,  s.  ditty,  song.  Bo.  III.  p.  i.  2. 

Divers,  adj.  diverse,  various,  M.  P.  iii.  653. 

Diversely,  adv.  in  different  ways,  F  202. 

Divisioun,  j.  ,•  of  my  divisioun,  under  my  in- 
fluence, M.  P.  iv.  273. 


8i6 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


Divyn,  adj.  divine,  B  3247. 

Divynour,  s.  seer,  soothsayer,  Bo.  V.  p.  iii.  164. 

Do.     See  Doon. 

Doand,/>-. /*/.  doing,  R.  2708. 

Does,  s.  pi.  does,  M.  P.  iii.  429. 

Dogerel,  adj.  doggerel,  B  2115. 

Dogges,  s.  pi.  dogs,  B  3089. 

Doghtren,  //.  daughters,  L.  1963. 

Doke,  s.  duck,  M.  P.  v.  498,  589. 

Doklted,//.  cropped,  A  590. 

Dole,  s.  dolefulness,  R.  2956. 

Delve.    See  Delve. 

Dolven,//.  buried,  M.  P.  iii.  222. 

Domb,  Dombe,  adj.  dumb,  H.  F.  656;  L.  2377; 
Dom.,  R.  2220. 

Dome,.;,  sentence,  decision;  her  dome,  ^t.  de- 
cision passed  on  them,  M.  P.  v.  308;  sionde 
to  the  dome,  abide  by  the  decision,  M.  P.  v. 
546;  opinion,  M.  P.  v.  480;  judgment,  C  637. 

Doininacioun,  s.  domination,  supremacy,  chief- 
eat  influence,  F  352;  dominion,  C  560;  power, 

H57 
Dominus.    See  Corpus. 
Domus  Dedali,  the  labyrinth  of  Daedalus,  H.  F. 

1920. 
Don,  Done.    See  Doon. 
Don-'*/, ~</;'.  dun-colored,  M.  P.  v.  334;  dun,  T. 

r^        ^,^ftion,  R.  2364. 
''(/'o,  idgment,  opinion,  B  3127;  F  677. 

0"sclauna'f'>  ^'-  1'-  '■'•  '94''  ^  i^^-  ^'^''  '■  9°  • 
Descry  ve-'  35'^7;  cau.se,  B  3618;  doon  us  honge , 
Tigsert  ■  >'s  to  be  hun2,  C  jqi^;  (ton  ner  com- 
^'1.-1^ <»,  accompany  her,  M.  P.  iv.  125;  leet  don 
cry  en,  caused  to  be  cried,  F  46;  Uoon,  //. 
done,  M.  P.  i.  54;  past,  ended,  M.  P.  iii.  40; 
completed,  G  387;  doon  make,  caused  to  be 
made,  E  253;  hath  doon yow  kept,  hath  caused 
you  to  be  kept,  E  1098;  \ioox\,  ger.  to  make, 
cause,  M.  P.  vii.  283;  to  do,  M.  P.  iii.  374;  to 
force,  M.  P.  v.  221;  Do,  v.  make,  M.  P.  iii. 
145;  cause,  B  3107;  Do,//,  done,  M.  P.  iii. 
528;  ended,  M.  P.  v.  693;  L.  957;  Do,  imp.  s. 
make,  H  12;  cause,  G  32;  do  hange,  cause 
me  to  be  hung,  G  1029;  do  fecche,  cause  to 
be  fetched,  H  662;  do  wey,  put  away,  lay 
aside,  G  487;  Do,  ger.  to  make,  M.  P.  iii. 
1260;  Do,  2  pr.  pi.  cause,  M.  P.  v.  651;  Do 
come,  imp.  s.  cause  to  come,  B  2035;  Do  kepe, 
2  pr.  pi.  cause  to  be  kept,  B  3624;  Don,//. 
done,  M.  P.  v.  70;  to  don,  from  doing.  Bo.  IV. 
p.  vi.  354;  Done,  ger.  to  be  done,  L.  1597; 
/or  to  done,  a  fit  thing  to  do,  I  62;  to  do,  to 
have  business  with,  M.  P.  iv.  234;  what  to 
done,  what  is  to  be  done,  M.  P.  iii.  689;  Doost, 
2  pr.  s.  makest,  C  312;  Dostow,  /or  Dost 
thou,  doest  thou,  L.  315;  Dooth,  imp.  pi.  do 
ye,  C  745;  do,  E  568;    as  dooth,  pray  do,  F 


458;  Dooth,  doth,  B  23;  Doth,  pr.  s.  causes, 
M.  P.  vi.  21;  makes,  M.  P.  ii.  7;  Doth  forth, 
pr.  s.  continues,  E  1015. 

Dore,  s.  a  door,  E  282;  F  615. 

Dorste,  i  pe.  s.  durst,  might  venture  to,  M.  P.  v. 
541 ;  //.  //.  dared  to  do,  L.  749.     See  Dar. 

Dossers,  //.  baskets  to  carry  on  the  back,  H.  F. 
1940. 

Dotage,  s.  folly,  M.  P.  xvii.  8. 

Dote,  V.  dote,  grow  foolish,  I..  (A)  261;  Doten, 
fjrow  foolish,  act  foolishly,  G  983. 

Doted,//,  as  adj.  doting,  stupid,  M.  P.  xvii.  13. 

Double,  adj.  two-faced,  deceitful,  M.  P.  vii.  87; 
H.  F.  285. 

Doublenesse,  s.  duplicity,  G  1300. 

Doucet,  adj.  dulcet,  i.e.  dulcet  (pipe),  sweet- 
sounding  (pipe),  H.  F.  1221. 

Doughter,  s.  daughter,  B  151;  E  608. 

Doughty,  adj.  doughty,  strong,  F  338;  war- 
like, F  II. 

Doun,  s.  down,  soft  feathers,  M.  P.  ix.  45. 

Doun,  adv.  down,  F  323;  up  and  down  =  in  all 
directions,  in  all  ways,  B  53.     See  Adoun. 

Doune,  i.  down,  hill  {dal.),  B  1986. 

Doute,  i.  doubt,  M  P.  i.  25;  Tvith-outen  doute, 
certainly.  L  1932;  peril,  L.  1613;  out 0/ doute, 
doubtless,  B  390. 

Doutelees,  adv.  doubtless,  without  doubt,  cer- 
tainly, C  492;  without  hesitation,  B  226. 

Doutes,  s.  pi.  fears,  F  220. 

Doutremere,  adj.  from  beyond  the  seas,  foreign, 
imported,  M.  P.  iii.  253. 

Dov.ve,  Dowve,  s.  dove,  pigeon,  M.  P.  v.  341; 
C  397- 

Dowaire,  s.  dower,  E  848. 

Dowe,  pr.  s.  bestow,  T.  v.  230. 

Dradde,  //.  s.  dreaded,  feared,  B  3402;  pr.  s. 
fears,  M.  P.  vii.  185;  Dradde  him  =  was  afraid, 
B  3918;  Drad,  //.  dreaded,  E  69;  Draddcn, 
pt.  pi.  stibj.  should  dread,  should  fear,  G  15. 
SeeDrede. 

Draf,  s.  draff,  refuse  (of  corn),  L.  (A)  312; 
draff,  refuse,  chaff,  I  35. 

Dragoun,  s.  dragon,  L.  1430,  1581. 

Drasty,  adj.  filthy,  worthless,  trashy,  B  2113. 

Drat,  dreadeth,  T.  iii.  328. 

Draughte,  .r.  move  at  chess,  M.  P.  iii.  682. 

Drawe,//.  drawn,  moved,  M.  P.  iii.  682;  drnwe 
//;>«,  withdraw  himself,  F3S5;  Draweth  a-long, 
pr.  s.  prolongs,  Bo.  I.  m.  i.  36;  Drawen  hem, 
pr.  pi  withdraw  themselves,  F252;  Draweth, 
imp.  pi.  invite,  B  1632. 

Drecched,  //.  harassed,  B  4077. 

Drecching,  i.  delaying,  T.  iii.  853. 

Dredde.    SeeDrede. 

Drede,  s.  dread,  terror,  fear,  M.  P.   i.  42;  fear 

of  wrong-doing,   M.  P    vi.  30;   uncertainly    M. 

P.    xvii.    28;    doubt,   M.    P.    v.    52;    withoute 


GLOSSA^IAL  INDEX. 


817 


drede,  without  doubt,  M.  P.  iii.  1073;  fear,  G 
204;  doubt,  C  507;  it  is  no  drede,  there  is  no 
doubt,  B  869 :  out  of  drede,  out  of  doubt,  cer- 
tainly, E  634.     See  Dreed. 

Drede,  v.  dread,  fear,  M.  P.  i.  76;  Dred  thee, 
imp.  s.  fear,  M.  P.  v.  157;  Drede,  i  />r.  s.  1 
dread,  fear,  E  636;  Dreed,  />«/>.  s.  dread,  fear, 
E  1201;  Dredde,//.  j.  dreaded,  feared,  L.  199; 
Dredden,  //.  //.  dreaded,  L.  181 3;  Dreden,  j'. 
to  fear,  G  320;  To  drede, ^e-r.  to  be  feared,  G  437. 

Dredeles,  adj.  fearless.  Bo.  III.  ra.  xii.  12. 

Dredful,  adj.  full  of  dread,  timid,  M.  P.  v.  195; 
fearful,  timid,  L.  109:   terrible,  B  3558. 

Dredles,  ad-',  of  course,  without  doubt,  M.  P. 
iii.  1272:   Dredeles,  M    P.  iii.  764. 

Dreed,  s.  doubt,  H.  F.  292;  dread,  fear,  L.  1728. 
.See  Drede. 

Drenche,  ;>.  drown,  M.  P.  xvi.  12;  H.  F.  205; 
drown,  be  overwhelmed,  L.  1919;  Drenchen, 
to  be  drowned,  B  455:  Dreinte,  //.  s.  drowned, 
M.  P.  iii.  72;  Dreynte,  was  drowned,  H.  F. 
923;  Dreynt,  //.  drowned,  M.  P.  iii.  148;  iv. 
89  (pronounced  dre-ynt,  in  two  syllables). 

Drenching,  s.  drowning,  B  485. 

Drerihed,  .s.  dreariness,  R.  4728. 

Drery,  adj.  terrified,  L.  810;   sad,  E  514. 

Dresse,  <■'.  prepare,  L.  1190;  address,  prepare, 
E  1049;  dresse  her,  settle  herself,  L.  804;  x\ 
refl.  address  himself,  G  1271;  Dress  me,  ^er, 
address  myself,  prepare,  M.  P.  v.  88;  Dressed, 
//.  prepared,  M.  P.  v.  665;  Dresseth  hir,  /•(. 
s.  rejl.  prepares  herself,  B  265;  Dressen,  pr. 
J>1.  prepare  themselves,  set  forward,  B  263; 
Dresse.  pr.  pi.  refl.  direct  themselves,  i.e. 
take  their  places  in  order,  B  416. 

Dreye,  adj.  as  s.  dry,  M.  P.  v.  380. 

Dreye,  adj.  dry.  B  3233. 

Dreynt.    See  Drenche. 

Drive,  //.  driven,  B  3203. 

Drof ,  //.  i.  drove,  M.  P.  vii.  190. 

Drogges,  .r.  //.  drugs,  A  426. 

Dronke,  pt.  pi.  drank,  B  3418;  Dronken,  B  3390. 

Dronkelewe,  adj.  drunken,  overcome  with 
drink,  C  495. 

Dronkenesse,  s.  drunkenness,  B  771;  C  484. 

Drope,  s.  drop,  G  522. 

DrOUgh,/^  s.  rejl.  drew  himself,  approached,  B 
1710. 

Droughte,  .t.  thirst.  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  48;  drought, 
F  118. 

Drovy,  adj.  turbid,  I  816. 

Drow,  //.  J.  drew,  moved  (of  the  sun),  M.  P.  v. 
490;  drew,  hoisted,  L.  1563;  drew,  T.  iii.  978; 
Drowe,  2  //.  s.  drewest ;  drowe  to  record,  didst 
bring  to  witness,  M.  P.  xvi.  22.  Pt.  t.  of 
drawen. 

Druerye,  s.  love,  aflection,  R.  844;  Druery,  R. 
5063- 

3G 


Drugge,  V.  drudge,  A  1416. 

Drunken,  adj.   causing  drunkenness,  M.  P.  v. 

181. 

Drye,  t'.  endure,  suffer,  R.  3105. 

Drye,  adj.  dry,  M.  P.  iii.  1028;  //.  dry,  without 
water  (of  the  fish  caught  at  the  mouths  of  riv- 
ers in  weirs  which  are  covered  with  water  from 
half-flood  to  half-ebb,  and  are  left  dry  as  the 
tide  ebbs  further),  M.  P.  v.  139. 

Dryve,  -'.  drive;  dry:'e  a7vay,p3LSs  away,  M.  P. 
iii.  49  ;  dryve  the  day  awey,  pass  the  time,  C 
628.     See  Drof. 

Duewe,  adj.  due,  L.  (A)  364. 

Duk,  s.  duke,  A  860. 

Dul,  adj.  dull,  F  279. 

Dulcarnon,  .r.  perplexity,  T.  iii.  931. 

Dulle,  adj.  dull,  without  emotion,  M.  P.  v.  162. 

Dulle,/r.  s.  grow  dull,  R.  4792;  Dulleth,/r.  s. 
makes  dull,  stupefies,  G  1172. 

Dun,  s.  the  dun  horse,  H  3. 

Dungeoun,  s.  donjon-tower,  keep-tower,  chief 
castle,  L.  937. 

Dure,  -■.  last,  M.  P.  i.  96. 

During,  adj.  enduring,  lasting,  M.  P.  iv.  228. 

Durre  don,  dare  do,  T.  v.  840. 

Durring  don,  i.  daring,  T.  v.  837. 

Durste,  i  pt  s.  durst,  M.  P.  iii.  929. 

Dwale,  s.  sleeping-draught,  A  4161. 

Dwelle,  7'.  remain,  M.  P.  iv.  74;  ger.  to  tarry, 
delay,  H.  F.  252. 

Dwelhnges,  s.  pi.  delays.  Bo.  I.  m.  i.  37. 

Dwyned,  //.  dwindled,  R.  360. 

Dye,  V.  die,  M.  P.  ii.  7;  Dyen         ^ie,  B.^i>*T-' 
Dyde,  /.'.  j.  died,  H.  F.  106.     See  De^e. 

Dyed,  pt.  s.  dyed,  steeped,  F  511. 

Dyte,  J.  ditty,  M.  P.  xxiii.  16;  Dytees, //.  H.  F. 
622. 


E. 


Ebbe,  .f.  ebb,  low  water,  F  259. 

Ech,  adj.  each,  M.  P.  i.  136. 

Eche,  V.  eke,  increase,  T.  i.  705;  ger.   to  eke 

out,  enlarge,  add  to,  H.   F.  2065;   Eched,  //. 

increased,  T.  iii.  1329. 
Echines,  s.  pi.  sea-urchins.  Bo.  III.  m.  vlii.  24. 
Echoon,  each  one,  L.  290:  Echon.M.  P.  iii.  335. 
Edified,  //.  built  up.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  311. 
Eek,  adv.  eke,  also,  B  59,  70;  moreover,  also 

B  140;  also,  T.  v.  1510. 
Eem,  s.  uncle,  T.  i.  1022. 
Eest,  ad-i'.  east,  eastward,  M.  P.  iii.  88. 
Eet,  //.  J.  ate,  C  510;  imp.  s.  eat,  B  3640;  Eete, 

3  //.  //.  eat,  M.  P.  ix.  11.     See  Ete. 
Effect,   s.  deed,  reality,  M.  P.   x.  34;   i>t  effect. 

in    fact,  in  reality,  G  511;    Theffect   {for  the 

effect),  the  result,  the  sequel,  L.  622;  Effectes, 


8i8 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


results   to   be  brought  about,  M.  P.  iv.   165  ; 

chief  points  of  a  story,  events,  results,  L.  929. 
Eft,  adv.  again,  M.  P.  iv.  11;  G  1263;  another 

time,  M.  P.  iii.  41. 
Eftsones,    adv.  soon  again,  T.  ii.    1468;    soon 

afterwards,  very  soon,  L.  2322;   Eftsone,  soon 

after,  G  1288  ;  soon  after  this,  H  65;  hereafter, 

G  933;  again,  B  909. 
Egal,  adj.  equal,  T.  iii.  137. 
Egaly,  ad7i.  equably.  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  156;  impar- 
tially. Bo.  V.  p.  iii.  156. 
Egge,  J^.  edge,  sword,  M.  P.  ix.  19;  edge,  T.  iv. 

927. 
Eggement,  j.  instigation,  incitement,  B  842. 
Egle,  J.  eagle,  M.  P.  v.  330;  H.  F.  499. 
Egre,  adj.  sharp,  bitter,  R.  5475;  eager,  sharp, 

fierce,  E  1199. 
Egremoine,  i".  agrimony,  G  800. 
Egren,  v.  incite  (lit.  make  eager),  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi. 

368. 
Eighte,  num.  eight,  C  771. 
Eightetethe,  ord.  adj.  eighteenth,  B  5. 
Eir,  s.  air,  A  1246. 
Eisel,  i'.  vinegar,  R.  217. 
Ekko,  J.  echo,  E  1189. 
(laat,  adj.  elate,  B  3357. 

Ide,  J.  old  age,  long  lapse  of  time,  M.  P.  vii. 

12;   Eld,  old  age,  M.  P.  xviii.  76. 
^ Elder,  adj.  conip.  older,  B  1720,  3450. 
Elder  fader,  s.  grandfather.  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  56. 
Eldres,  s.  pi.  elders,  forefathers,  B  3388. 
Eleccioun,  s.  choice,  M.  P.  v.  409,  621. 
"'"Ertt.J?,  adj.  wretched,  B  1412. 

Elengenesse,  .?.  wretchedness,  R.  7406. 

Eles,  //.  eels,  H.  F.  2154. 

Elf-queen,  .r.  fairy  queen,  B  1978. 

Ellebor,  .f.  hellebore,  B  4154. 

EUes,  adv.  else,  otherwi.se,  M.  P.  iii.  997;  elles 
god  for/tfde,  God  forbid  it  should  be  other- 
wise, G  1046. 

EUeswher,  adv.  elsewhere,  G  1130. 

Elvish,  adj.  lit.  elvish,  imp-like,  mysterious; 
but  used  in  the  sense  of  foolish,  G  751;  elf- 
like,  abstracted,  G  842. 

Embassadrye,  s.  embassy,  negotiation,  B  233. 

Embaume,  -n.  embalm,  L.  676. 

Embelif,  adj.  oblique.  As.  i.  20,  3. 

Embelised,  //.  beautified,  Bo.  II.  p.  v.  83. 

Embosed,//.  sheltered  in  the  woods,  M.  P.  iii. 

353- 
Emeraude,  .?.  emerald,  M.  p.  V.  175;   B  1799. 
Emforth,  jirefi.  to  the  extent  of,  according  to, 

T.  ii.  243. 
Emisperies,  j-.  pi.  hemispheres.  As   i.  18,  9. 
Empelreden,  pt.  pi.  made  worse,  B  2205. 
Emperesse,  i.  empress,  M.  P.  v.  319;   Emperice, 

M.  P.  iv.  285. 
Empeyre,  pr.  s.  impair,  E  2198. 


Emplastre,  pr.  pi.  plaster  over,  '  whitewash,' 

E  2297. 
Empoisoned,  //.  poisoned,  B  3850. 
Empoisoning,  s.  poisoning,  C  891. 
Empoysoner,  s.  poisoner,  C  894. 
Emprinteth,  imp.  pi.  imprint,  impress,  E  1193. 
Empryse,  i.  enterprise,  undertaking,  G  605. 
Empte,  V.  empty,  make  empty,  G  741;   //.  as 
adj.    exhausted.   Bo.    I.   p.    i.    11;    worn   out, 
shrunken.  Bo.  I.  m.  i.  22;   Empten,  G  1404. 
Enbasshinge,  s.  bewilderment,  amazement,  Bo. 

IV.  p.  i.  48. 
Enbibing,  .s.  imbibition,  absorption,  G  814. 
Enbrace,  v.  embrace,  hold  firmly,  M.   P.  xxi. 

II. 
Enbrouden,  7;.  embroider,  L.  2351;   Enbrouded, 

//.  L.  119- 
Encens,  j.  incense,  A  2938. 
Encense,  v.  to  offer  incense,  G  395,  413. 
Enchaufeth,  pr.  s.  burns.  Bo.  V.  m.  iii.  21. 
Encheson,   j.   occasion,   cause,  F  456;    Enche- 

soun,  B  2783. 
Enclyne,  v.  induce  to  do,  M.  P.  v.  325. 
Encomberous,    adj.    cumbersome,    oppressive, 

burdensome,  M.  P.  xviii.  42. 
Encombre,  v.  encumber,  L.  2006. 
Encorporing,  .r.  incorporation,  G  815. 
Encrees,  j.  increase,  B  237;  G  18. 
Encrese,  v.  increase,  M.  P.  ii.  103;    Encresse, 
B    1068;    Encre.sen,  B    1654;    Encresed,  pt.  s. 
M.   P.   V.    143;   Encresseth,  pr.  s.  E  50;   En- 
cressed,  //.  E  408. 
Endamagen,  v.   harm,  Bo.   I.   p.    iv.   103;   //. 

compromised.  Bo.  I.  p.  i.  81. 
Ende,  s.  end,  result,  B  481. 
Ended,  //.  finite,  Ik).  II.  p.  vii.  124, 
Endelees,  rdj.  endless,  B  951. 
Endelong,  adv.  along,  H.  F.  1458. 
Endelong,  p7-ep.  all  along,  L.  (A)  144;  along, 

L.  1498;  down  along,  F  416. 
Endentinge,  .s.  scalloping,  I  417. 
Endetted,  //.  indebted,  G  734. 
Ending-day,  .r.  death-day,  M.  P.  xviii.  55. 
Endure,  v.  last,  B  353S. 

Endyte,  ger.  to  compose,  relate,  M.  P.  v.  119; 
V.  tell,  L.   1678;  indict,  B  3858;   Eiuiyted,  //. 
composed,  B  3170;  Endyten,  v.  compose,  write, 
L.  371;  indite,  write,  B  781. 
Endyting,  .?.  composing,  M.  P.  xviii.  77. 
Enfamyned,  //.  starved,  L.  2429. 
Enfecteth,  pr.  s.  infects,  L.  2242. 
Enformed,  //.  informed,  E  738;   F  335. 
Enfortuned,  pt.  s.  endowed  with  powers,  M.  P. 

iv.  259. 
Engendred,  //.  engendered,  begotten,  E  158. 
Engendring,  s.  generation,  L.  (A)  414. 
Engendrure,  s.  engendering,  begetting,  M.  P.  v. 
306. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


819 


English,    J.   power  of  eloquent  expression   in 

Kni;lish,  L.  66. 

Engreggen,  pr.  //.  weigh  upon,  I  979. 

Engreveth,  pr.  s.  grieves,  R.  3444. 

Engyn,  s.  wit,  contrivance,  T.  iii.  274;  skill, 
craft,  H.  F.  528;  gin,  machine,  F  184;  genius, 
skill,  G  339;  Engynes,  military  machines,  R. 
4194. 

Enhabite,  pr.  s.  dwell,  R.  6355. 

Enhaunced,  //.  advanced,  L.  386;  Enhaunsed, 
promoted,  1..  1411. 

Enhaused,  //  elevated,  As.  ii.  26,  40. 

Enhorte,  ?■.  exhort,  L.  1440. 

Enlaceth,  pr.  s.  entangles,  Bo.  I.  m.  iv.  26;  //. 
involved,  made  intricate,  Bo.  III.  p.  viii.  7. 

Enlumined,  //.  illuminated,  M.  P.  i.  73:  pt.  s. 
illumined,  E  33. 

Enluting,  i^.  securing  with  '  lute,'  daubing  with 
clay,  etc.,  to  exclude  air,  G  766. 

Enmite,  i.  enmity,  M.  P.  iv.  236. 

Enpeiren,  v.  injure.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  63. 

Enpoysoninge,  .?.  poisoning.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  67. 

Enpresse,  v.  make  an  impression  on,  M.  P. 
xxi.  8. 

Enquere,  ?■   inquire,  search  into,  B  629. 

Enqueringe,  .r.  inquiry,  B  888. 

Ensample,  s.  example,  pattern,  M.  P.  iii   911. 

Ensaumpler,  s.  prototype,  Bo.  III.  m.  ix.  18. 

Enseled,  //.  sealed  up,  confirmed,  T.  v.  151; 
iv.  559. 

Entalenten,  pr.  pi.  stimulate.  Bo.  V.  p.  v.  6. 

Entame,  v.  re-open  (lit.  cut  into),  M.  P.  i.  79. 

Entayle,  s.  shape,  R.  162;  Entaile,  cutting, 
jagging,  R.  1081. 

Entayle,  v.  carve,  R.  3711;  Entailled, //.  R. 
140. 

Enteccheth,  pr.  s   infects,  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  93. 

Enteched,  //.  endued  with  (good)  qualities,  T. 
v.  832. 

Entencioun,  j.  intention,  intent,  C  408. 

Entende,  ger.  to  direct  one's  attention,  apply 
one's  self,  B  3498;  to  attend,  dispose  one's 
self,  F  689;  pr.  pt.  looking  intently.  Bo.  I.  p. 
ii.  3;  pr.  s.  perceive,  T.  iv.  1649. 

Entendement,  s.  perception,  H.  F.  983. 

Entente,  s.  intent,  intention,  M.  P.  i.  11;  feel- 
ing, M.  P.  v.  532;  do  thyn  intent,  give  heed, 
M.  P.  iii.  752;  meaning,  L.  1149:  will,  B  824: 
design,  B  3835;  plan.  B  147,  206;  endeavor,  G 
6;  wish,  E  189:  mind,  B  1740;  in  good  enteni, 
with  good  will,  B  1902;  as  to  commune  en- 
tente, with  reference  to  its  common  {i.e.  plain) 
meaning,  i.e.  in  plain  intelligible  language,  F 
107. 

Ententeden ,  //.  pt.  gave  their  attention ,  L.  1 1 55. 

Ententif,  adj.  intent  upon,  eager  to,  H.  F.  1120. 

Ententifly,  adv.  attentively,  zealously,  H.  F. 
616. 


Entermete,  v.  interpose,  R.  2966. 

Entraille,  s.  entrails,  inside,  E  1188. 

Entre,  v.  enter,  M.  P.  iv.  53;  ger.  M.  P.  v.  147; 

Knireth,  imp.  pi.  H.  F.  1109. 
EntrechauDginges,  s.  pi.  mutations,  Bo.  I.  m. 

V.  43;  vicissitudes,  Bo.  II.  m.  iii.  25. 
Entrecomuaen,  v.  communicate,  T.  iv.  1354. 
Entrecomuninge,  s.  interchange,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii. 

68. 
Entredited,  pp.  under  an  interdict,  I  905. 
Entrees,  //.  entrances,  H.  F.  1945. 
Entrelaced,  //   intricate.  Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  183. 
Entremedled,  //.  intermingled,  H.  F.  2124. 
Entremes,  .r.  intervening  course,  M.  P.  v.  (■ht,. 
Entremeten  him,  v.  reji.   interfere  in,  meddle 

with,  M.  P.  v.  515. 
Entringe,  pr.pt.  entering,  I  12. 
Entryketh,  pr.  s.  holds  fast  in  its  subtle  grasp, 

ensnares,  M.  P.  v.  403. 
Entunes,  s.pl.  tunes,  M.  P.  iii.  309. 
Envenimed,  //.  envenomed,  poisoned,  B  3314. 
Envenyme,  v.  poison,  M.  P.  iii.  641. 
Enviroun,  adv.  round  about,  L.  300. 
Enviroune,  v.  encompass,  Bo.  III.  m.  ix.  50. 
Envoluped,   //.    wrapped    up,    enveloped,    in- 
volved, C  942. 
Envye,  V.  vie,  strive,  M.  P.  iii.  406;  Envyen,  vie 

(with),  H.  F.  1231. 
Envye,  s.  ;  to  e>ivye,  in  rivalry,  M.  P.  iii.  173; 

envy,  jealousy,  B  3584. 
Envyned, //.  supplied  with  wine,  *»--.-o-.  * 

Equipolences,  J.  //  equivalents,/.  Bo.   ^     ,^J'j»"»       \ 
Equitee,  j.  equity,  justice,  E  439.  ._;       ""  ' 

Er,  ad-i'.  before,  B  420;  G  1273. 
Er,  conj.  ere,  before,  M.  P.  i.  16;  iv.  14;  er  that, 

before,  M.  P.  ii.   35;   ere,  B  iig;   F  130;    er 

now,   ere   now,    F   460;    er   that,    before,    E 

178. 
Er,  prep,   before,   M.   P.   i.   39;    er  tho,  before 

then,  L.  1062;  before,  C  892;  er  that,  before 

that,  G  375. 
Erbe,  J.  herb,  L.  (A)  109. 
Erber,  j.  arbor,  L.  (A)  97.     See  Herber. 
Erchedeken,  s.  archdeacon,  D  1300. 
Ere,  i'.  ear,  M.  P.  i.  115;   F  196,  316. 
Ered,  //.  ploughed,  H.  F.  485. 
Erke,  adj.  irked,  weary,  R.  4867. 
Erl.  .J.  earl,  B  3597,  3646. 

Erme,  v.  feel  sad,  grieve,  M.  P.  iii.  80:  C  312. 
Ernes,  s.  earnestness,  R.  4838. 
Ernestful,  adj.  serious,  E  1175. 
Erraunt,   adj.  errant,  stray   (because   near   the 

middle  of  the  chess-board),  M.  P.  iii    661. 
Errour,   s.    doubt,    uncertainty,    M.    P.   v.    146; 

perplexity,  M.  P.  xvi   7. 
Ers,  s.  buttocks,  A  3734. 
Erst,  ad7i.  first,  at  first,  M.  P.  i.  87:  formerly, 

before,  L.   271 ;  at  erst,  for  the  first  time,  H 


820 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


1884;  G  151;    long  erst  er,  long  first  before, 

C  662.     See  Er. 
Erthe,  s.  earth,  M.  P.  i.  50;  v.  57. 
Eschaufede,  //.  s.  chafed,  Bo.  I.  p.  V.  74. 
Eschaufeth,  pr.  s.  grows  warm,  Bo.  I.  m.  vi.  2. 
Eschaunges,    //.     exchanges,     interchangings, 

H.  F.  697. 
Eschue,  V.  to  eschew,  avoid,  shun,  G  4. 
Ese,  .;.  ease,  solace,  delight,  M.  P.  iv.  63;  ease, 

E  217;  pleasure,  G  746;  ease,  relief,  H  25;  do 

you  ese,  give  you  pleasure,  M.  P.  vi.  78. 
Ese,  V.  ease,  relieve,  L.  1704. 
Espleyten,  v.  perform,  R.  6174. 
Espye,    V.    espy,  note,   M.   P.    vii.    64;    inquire 

about,  B  180;   Espyen,  v.  spy,  look  about,  L. 

858. 
Essoyne,  .r.  excuse  for  absence,  I  164. 
Est,  J.  east,  B  297,  493,  3657. 
EStaat,  i.  stateliness,  state,  M.  P.  ii.  41;  rank, 

B  973 ;  estate,  condition,  rank,  B  3592 ;  way, 

E  610. 
Estableth,  pr.  s.  settles,  causes.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iv. 

Estat,  s.  estate,  state,  condition,  L.  125. 
Estatlich,  adj.  stately,  A  140. 
Estatuts,  i^.  ordinances.  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  51. 
Estres,  //.  inner  premises  of  a  house,  L.  1715. 
Esy,  adj.  easy,  M.  P.  iii.  1008;  pleasant,  gentle, 

M.  P.  v.  382. 
Ete,  V.  eat,  F  617;  Et,  pr.  s.  eats,  L.  1389;  Eten, 

^•'   -,'   -.     M.  P.  v.  325;  Eete,  M.  P.  ix.  11. 
EleCCiOUn,  s.^  ,^„3,_  jyj    p    ;   j^;   xvi.  8. 

Ettr^,s?'.  "easy,  T.  v.  850. 

Etik,  the  Ethics  of  Aristotle,  L.  166. 

Evangyles,  s.  pi.  gospels,  B  666. 

Eve,  ,r.  eve,  evening,  F  364;  G  375. 

Evel,  adv.  ill,  M.  P.  iii.  501;   B  1897. 

Even,  ad7i.  evenly,  aright,  exactly,  M.   P.   iii. 

441;  f til  even,  actually,  M.  P.  iii.  1329. 
Evene,  adj.  even,  E  811. 
Evene-lyk,  adj.  similar.  Bo.  V.  p.  ii.  28. 
Everich,  each  one,  M.  P.  v.  401 ;  every  one,  E 

1017;  either  of  the  two,  B  1004. 
Everichon,  every  one,  B  330;   Everichoon,  each 

one,  L.  2567;  Everichone,  each  one,  H.  F.  337. 
Ever  in  oon,  constantly,  continually,  M.  P.  ii.  g. 
Evermo,   adv.    evermore,   always,    continually, 

M.  P.  iii.  81;   L.  1239. 
Everydel,  adv.  entirely,  wholly,  every  bit,  M. 

P.  iii.  222;  exactly,  M.  P.  iii.  1014. 
Ew,.f.  yew,  M.  P.  V.  180. 
Exaltacioun,  s.  exaltation  (a  term  in  astrology), 

I  10. 
Exametron,  .r.  a  hexameter,  B  3169. 
Exces,  s.  excess,  extravagance,  T.  i.  626. 
Excusaciouns, //.  excuses,  L.  (A)  362. 
Exercitacioun,  i.  exercise,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  327. 
Existence,  j.  reality,  H.  F.  266. 


Exorsisaciouns,  //.  exorcisms,  spells  to  raise 
spirits,  H.  F.  1263. 

Expans,  adj.  separate,  F  1275. 

Experience,  i.  experiment,  H.  F.  788. 

Expert,  adj.  experienced,  B  4;  skilful  in  per- 
forming an  experiment,  experienced,  G  1251. 

Expoune,^'.  to  expound,  explain,  B  3398;  G  86; 
Expouned,//.  ,f.  B  3399. 

Extenden,/r. //.  are  extended,  B  461. 

Extree,  s.  axle,  As.  i.  14,  2. 

Ey, /'«/('r/'.  eh!  what!  C  782. 

Ey,  s.  egg,  G  806. 

Eye;  at  eye,Q'^v^e.'ci\\y,  L.  100. 

Eyen,//.  eyes,  M.  P.  i.  88;  iii.  841. 

Eyleth,  pr.  s.  ails,  B  1171;  aileth,  H  16; 
Eyled,//.  j.  impers.  ailed,  F  501. 

Eyr,  s.  heir,  L.  1598,  1819. 

Eyre,  j^.  air,  gas,  G  767. 

Eyrish,  adj.  of  the  air,  aerial,  H.  F.  932,  965. 

E5rth,  adj.  easy,  R.  3955. 

Eyther,  adj.  either,  M.  P.  v.  125. 


F. 


Face,  ^.  face;  a  technical  term  i' 
nifying  the  third  part  of  a  sign  ( 
a  part  of  the  zodiac  ten  degrees  i        . 
Facound,  adj.  eloquent,  fluent,  M.  ij?  .^' 
Facounde,  i.  eloquence,  fluency,  M,   "^  .-y 

Faculte,  J^.  faculty,  branch  of  study,  2j  o-  ; 

Fader,  i.  father,  M.  P.  i.  52; /a(/cr  (/^..         ^.  fl,- 

day,  father's  time,  B  3374;   Fadres,  ^<       "^  ,^. 

i.  130;  fathers,  ancestors,  E  61 ;  parentL.7f  , 

nators,  B  129;   Fader,' ^?«.  in  phr.  fade        .  .^ 
=  father's  race,  ancestry,  G  829.  ''>_^      ( 

Fadme,  s.  pi.  fathom  (i),  M.  P.  iii.  422.  / 

Fadres-in-lawe,  //.  parents-in-law,  Bo.  II.  p.  iii. 

45- 
Fallen,  v.  fail,  grow  dim,  M.  P.  v.  85. 
Faille,  s.  fail;  sauns  faille,        '       '   '  '*' 

188. 
Fain,  adj.  glad,  L.  1 137. 
Faire,  adv.  fairly,  well,  M.  P.  \ 

ously,  L.  277. 
Faire   Rewthelees,  Fair  Unpit> 

Belle  Dame  sans  Merci,  M.  P. 
Fairnes,  Fairnesse,  j.  fairness,  beauty,     „       ^  _.. 

iv.  76;  E  384. 
Fairye,  j.   fairyland,   F  96;     faii-y  contrivance, 

magic,  F  201. 
Fal,  i.  fall  in  wrestling,  M.  P.  xiii.  16. 
Falding,  s.  coarse  cloth,  A  391. 
Fallaces,  s.  pi.  fallacies,  R.  7077. 
Falle,r'.  happen,  M.  P.  ii.  23;  fall;  A^«C(^,  pros- 
per, L.  186;  happen,  light,  E  126;   suit,  E  259; 

Falles,  pr.    s.  belongs,  M.  P.  iii.  257;   Falle. 

//.  fallen,  L.    1726,  1826;    happened,  E  938; 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


S21 


pr.   s.    stihj.    iiiipcrs.   may  it   befall,  L.   277; 

Fallen,  -■.  happen,  F  134;   accidentally  placed, 

F  684;   ?'il,//.  s.  fell,  C  804:  Fel,  befell,  1!  141. 

See  Fil. 
FalS,  adj.  false,  B  74. 
False,  V.  deceive,  be  untrue  to,  M.  P.  iii.  1234; 

Falscd,  //.    J.   betrayed,   M.   P.   vii.    147;    //». 

falsified,  broken  (faith),  F  627. 
False  get,  cheating  contrivance,  G  1277. 
Falsen,  v.  deceive,  L.  1640;   Falsest,  ipr.  s.  L. 

1377- 

Falshede,  s.  falsehood,  G  979. 

Faltren,  pr.  pi.  falter,  fail,  B  772. 

Falwe-rede,  adj.  pi.  yellowish  red,  H.  F.  1936. 

Falwes,  s.  pi.  fallows,  D  656. 

Fame,  s.  good  report,  E  418. 

Familer,  s.  familiar  friend.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  279. 

Famulere,  adj.  familiar,  affable,  L.  1606. 

Fan,  .y.  vane,  quintain,  H  42. 

Fantastyk,  adj.  imaginative,  A  1376. 

Fantasye,  s.  imagining,  H.  F.  992;  fancy,  H.  F. 
593;   Fantasyes,//.  fancies,  M.  P.  iii.  28. 

Fantom,  j.  phantasm,  kind  of  dream,  illusion, 
H.  F.  II. 

Farced,//,  stuffed,  L.  1373. 

Fard,  itiip.  paint,  R.  2285. 

Fardels,  s.  pi.  burdens,  R.  5683. 

Fare,.?,  good  speed,  H.  F.  682;   proceeding,  stir 
H.   F.  1065:  evel fare,  ill  hap,  M.  P.  ii.  ' 
fuss,  disturbance,  T.  iii.  860;  business,  ^ 
on,  B  569. 

Fare,  ger.  to  fare,  prosper,  M.  P.  v.  6g8;  i, 
I  fare,  it  is  with  me  (thus),  M.  P.  vii.  yia\ 
G  733;  am,  B  1676;  pp.^onc,  walked,  L.  22^ 
gone,   B   512;    Fareth,  pr.  s.  happens,  H.  I*. 
271;   it  turns  out,  G  966;  it  fares,  it  is,  E  1217; 
Faren,  ^  pr.  pi.  we  fare,  live,  G  662;   Far  wel, 
imp.  s.    arewell,  B  116. 

Fare-cart,  s.  cart,  T.  v.  1162. 

Farewel,  mterj.  farewell !   it  is  all  over,  G  907. 

Fasoun,  j.  fashion,  R.  708. 

^2A\e,  rt(/r'.  fasi,lA..P   ii    ig;  close,  near,  M.  P. 
iii.   369;   hard,  soundly,  M.  T.  -..04;   quickly 
G  245;  as  faste,  very  quickly,  G  iii^y,  fastc 
by,  close  at  hand,  B  3116. 

Faster,  adiK  clo.scr,  B  3722.  ■" 

Fattish,  adj.  plump,  M.  P.  iii.  954. 

Faucon,  j-.  falcon,  F  411,  424. 

Fauconers,  .j.  //.  falconers,  F  1196. 

Faught,  //.  J.  fought,  B  3519. 

Fauned,  //.  s.  fawned  on,  M.  P.  iii.  389. 

Fawe,  adj.  fain,  R.  6476;  adv.  T.  iv.  887. 

Fay,  X.  faith,  R.  2887. 

Fayle,  v.  make  mistakes,  R.  4249. 

Fayn,  ad7>.  gladly,  M.  P.  iii.  iioi ;  gladly,  will- 
ingly, B  41;  wolde  fayn  =  would  fain,  would 
be  glad  to,  E  696. 

Fayn,  adj.  glad,  L.  130;  H  92.    See  Fain. 


Fayr,  adj.  fair,  seemly,  L.  2548;  a  fayr,^  good 

one,  T.  iii.  850. 
Feble,  adj.  feeble,  weak,  E  1198. 
Fecche,   ?-.   to  fetch,   B1857;     Fecchen,  E  276. 

See  Fette. 
Fecches,  i.  //.  vetches,  T.  iii   936. 
Feeld,   s.   field,   in   an    heraldic    sense,    B    3573; 

Fcld,  dat.  field,  plain,  H  3197. 
Feend,  s.  the  fiend,  F  522. 
Feendly,   adj.    fiendly,    of   a    fiend,    M.    P.    iii. 

594- 
Fees,  s.  pi.  fees,  contributions,  payments,  ISl.  P. 

iii.  266. 
Feet,  .y.  performance,  E  429. 
Feffe,  7'.  fee,  present,  T.  iii.  901. 
Feffed  in,  //.  invested  with,  E  1698. 
Feined,  a<ij.  feigned,  L.  1257. 
Fel,  J-.  skin.  T.  i.  91. 

Fel,  pt.  s.  befell,  happened,  B  141.     See  Falle. 
Fel,  adj.  fell,  cruel,  terrible,  B  2019. 
Felawe,  j.  fellow,  companion,  L.  895. 
Felawship,  .f.  company,  M.  P.  iii.  978. 
Feld,  s.  field.  M.  P.  iii.  359.     See  Feeld. 
Feldefare,  jt.  fieldfare,  M.  P.  v.  364;  T.  iii.  86i. 
Fele.  atlj.  many,  R.  189;   E917. 

■.  understand  by  experiment,  H.   F.  826; 
T  //.  s.  felt,  M.  P.  iv.  217;    Feled,  //.  j. 
<  492. 
.  adj.  manifold,  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  18. 
^^j 'ntiment,  hence  love,  M.  P.  iii.  1172. 
^<^Si'Cffrn^\,  T.  i.  470.     See  Fel. 
^%  *^'  s.' *<?<•. -y.  severely,  Bo.  ^  :,:^^"s\ 
I.  p.  viv-'../i 

It-  n      T  Tnoble,  "•   P- 

^c^pness.  Ho.  I.  m.  v 

e,  wicked,  Bo 


V 


''6. 


394- 


r?-.%>'>.o^for  rer-7;  excellent. 


"^-c^'-r. 


Jfi      i>      '  L-     -^e,    --.  Gentils,  //.   s. 

f'    e;  ■  ^V  ^'^^-     '''  Ather,  B  22.'le  folk,'  M.  P. 
„  ^'.      ''.  t,''^//>n  vsaid  of 

Fen,  s.   ch,        ^       '  ^  and  h-    vjo- 

book  call-^^e,^  foremost.  M:IC1:15^^ 

Fend,  s.  fien  ''<?(/  ,'     ,  ,     „  ^1 

Femx,.-.  ph<En.;,^''P^'^>;/'»^82.    --^ 

Fer,  ad7).  far,  M.  P.  vii.  338;  how  /er  so,  how- 
ever far,  M.  P.  v.  440. 

Fer,  adj.  far,  B  508,  65S. 

Ferde,  s.  dat.  (aftery^r)  fear,  terror,  H.  F.  950, 
fear,  T.  i.  557. 

Ferde,  pt.  s.  fared,  was,  seemed,  IM.  P.  iii.  501; 
went  on,  H.  F.  1522;  i  //.  s.  fared,  felt,  M.  P. 
iii  99;  was  placed,  M.  P.  v.  152;  pt  s.  fared, 
I  e.  behaved,  E  1060.     See  Fare. 

Fere,  s.  companion,  mate,  M.  P.  v.  410;   L.  969. 

Fere,  s.  dat   fear,  B  3369. 

Fered,  //.  terrified,  afraid,  G  924. 

Ferforth,  adv.  far,  M.  P.  vii.  90:  so  fer/orth, 
to  such  ail  extent,  M.  P.  i.   170;  far,   L.  690; 


822 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


as  ferforth    as,   as  far  as,    15   logg ;    so  fer- 

forih,  to  such  a  degree,  G  40.     See  Fer. 
Ferforthly,  adv.  so  far,  L.  682. 
FerfuUeste,  aJj.  sup.  most  timoious,  T.  ii.  450. 
Ferly,  adj.  wonderful,  A  4173. 
Fermacies,  s.  pi.  pharmacies,  medicines,  A  Z713. 
Ferme,  imp.  s.  make  firm,  Bo.  I.  m.  v.  70. 
Ferme,  adj.  firm,  E  663. 

Fermerere,  .?.  keeper  of  the  infirmary,  D  1859. 
Fermour,  j.  farmer  of  taxes,  L.  378. 
Fern,  adv.  long  ago;    so  fern  =  so  long  ago,  F 

'256. 
Fern-asshen,  j.  //.  fern-ashes,  ashes  produced 

by  burning  ferns,  F  254. 

Feme  yere,  past  years,  T.  v.  1176. 

Ferre,  adv.  comp.  further,  H.  F.  600.     See  Far. 

Ferreste,  adj.  super,  farthest,  A  494. 

Fers,  s.  queen  (at  chess),  M.  P.  iii.  654. 

Ferse,  adj.  voc.  fierce,  M.  P.  vii.  i. 

Ferses,  //.  the  pieces  at  chess,  M.  P.  iii.  723. 

Ferthe,  fourth,  B  823;  G  531. 

Ferther,  adv.    further,   M.   P.   v.   280;    adj.    B 

1686. 
Ferther-over,  adv.  furthermore,  T.  iv.  1027. 
Farthing,  .r.  morsel,  A  134. 
Fasaunt,  s.  pheasant,  M.  P.  v.  357. 
Fast,  s.  fist,  C  802. 
Festa,  J.  feast,  festival,  M.  P.  iii.  974;   maketh 

feste,  pays  court,   flatters,  M.  P.  iii.  638;    to 

/estr,  to  the  feast,  at  a  feast,  B  1007;  han  to 

feste,  to  invite,  B  380. 
ElaCercnge,   pr.   pt.  feasting,   entertaining,    F 

Etfe^S?'  "easy 

Etik   the  Ethi<  festive,  fond  of  feasts,  F  281. 

Evangylas,  .-'*"="'  ^  '9S- 

Eve   J  eve   4"^^-  ^^^''  to  fete,  at  his  feet,  B  1104. 

Evei,  adv.  ill,  iirP'i'de,  neat,  graceful,  C  478. 

Even,  adv.  evenly,  ar^i"'""y.  ^  273. 

441 ;  /ul  even,  actuallj676;   Fet,  //.  B  667. 

Evene,  adj.  even,  E  811.^,  3547- 

Evene-lyk,  adj.  similar,  B'Y'  L.  778. 

Everich,  each  one,  M.  P.  \  3i5- 
'  'i"^-  either  of  the  two,  Ba'sely.  M  P.  ii.  1: 
teyneu,  ,,,.  prei  ^^^  „  ^_  5^4;  feyne  us,  pre- 
tend as  regards  ourselves,  B  351 ;  Feigne,  7u/io- 
so  /eigne  may,  let  him,  who  can,  pretend,  Bo. 
III.  p.  X.  104. 

Feyning,  s,  pretending,  cajolery,  F  556. 

Faynting,  j.  fainting,  f.Ttling,  E  970. 

Fayntyse,  s.  feigning,  R.  2947,  2998. 

Feyth,  s.  faith,  M.  P.  iii.  632. 

Fiaunca,  j.  confidence,  R.  5481. 

Ficchan,  ger.  to  fix,  Bo.  V.  m.  iv.  20. 

Fiers,  adj.  fierce,  R.  1482. 

Fifte,  fifth,  M.  p.  xvi.  9. 

Figure,  .y.  shape,  i.e.  man's  shape  or  form,  M. 
P.  xvi.  27;  Figures,  //.  figures  of  speech,  E 
16. 


Figuringe,  J.  formation,  form,  L.  298;  similitude, 

figure,  G  96. 
Fil,  //.  J.  fell,  M.  P.  iii.  123;  befell,  L.  589;  //. 

s.  impers.  befell,  L.  1162;  was  fitting,  M.  P. 

iii.  374;  pt.  s.  fell,  occurred,  happened,  B  1865; 

as  fer  as  reason  fil  =  as  far  as  reason  extended, 

F  570;   Fille,  pt.  pi.   fell,  H.   F.   1659;   Fillen, 

fell,  B  3183.     See  Falla. 
Fild,  //.  filled,  M.  P.  V.  610. 
Fille,  s.  fill,  M.  P.  vi.  13;   L.  817. 
Fingres,  s.  pi.  fingers,  E  380. 
Firste,  adj.   used  as  a  s.;  my  firste=my  first 

narration,  F  75. 
Fish,  .r.  the  sign  Pisces,  F  273. 
Fit,  i.  a  '  fyt '  or  '  passus,'  a  portion  of  a  song, 

B  2078. 
Fithala,  s.  fiddle,  A  296. 

Fix,  Fixe,  //.  fixed,  solidified,  M.  P.  i.  9;  G  779. 
Flambas,  i.  //.  flames,  B  3353;  G  515. 
Flater,  i  pr.  s.  flatter,  M.  P.  iv.  188. 
Flateringe,  .r.  flattery,  M.  p.  iii.  639. 
Flaume,  .s.  flame,  M.  P.  v.  250;   Flaumbe,  H.  F. 

769. 
Flayn,//.  flayed,  I  425. 
Flee,  V.  flee,  M.  P.  iv.  98;   Fleen,  flee,  M.  P.  i. 

148;    Fleigh, /A  s.  fled,  B  3879;    Fledde  her- 
self, pt.  s.  rejl.  took  refuge,  L.  1225. 
Flee,  V.  fly,  F  503. 
Flaan,  j.  //.  fleas,  H  17. 
Fleas,  J.  fleece,  L.  1428,  1647. 
Fleet,  /;-.  s.  floats,  B  463.     See  Flete. 
Fleigh,  pt.  s.  flew,  T.  ii.  194;  Fleinge, /r^j. //. 

flying,  H.  F.  543. 
Flakkad,  //.  spotted,  G  565. 
Flemen,  v.  put  to  flight,  T.  ii.  852;    Flemeth, 

pr.  s.  chases  away,  H  182;   Flemed,  pt.  s.  ex- 
iled, R.  3052;  //.  banished,  G  58. 
Flamar,  i.  banisher,  driver  away,  B  460. 
Flete,    I    pr.   s.   float,  M.    P.  'i.    no;     Fleteth, 

flows,   abounds.    Bo.    I.  m.    ii.    31;    Fletinge, 

pres.  pt.  flowing,  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  89. 
Flex,  s.  flax,  A  676. 
Flitting,  n-ij.  fleetmg,  unimportant,  M.  P.  iii. 

801. 
Flo,  J.  dart,  H  264. 
Flokmela,  adv.  in  a  flock,  in  a  great  number,  E 

86. 
Flood,  J.  flood,  flowing  of  the  sea,  F  259. 
Florouns,  i'.  //.  florets,  L.  217,  220. 
Floteren,  pr.  pi.  fluctuate,   waver,  Bo.  III.   p. 

xi.  258. 
Flotery,  adj.  dishevelled,  A  2883. 
Flour,  J.  flower,  L.  48;  of  alle  Jionres  flour, 

flower  of  all  flowers,  M.  P.  i.  4;   flower,  prime 

vigor,  M.  P.  iii.  630;  choice,  pattern,  E  919. 
Floura,  pr.  s.  subj.  flower,  flourish,  E  120. 
Floureth,  pr.  s.  comes  forth  into  flower,  M.  P. 

vii.  306. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


823 


FlOUte,  s.  flute,  H.  F.  1223. 

Flowen,  //.  flown,  H.  F.  905. 

Floytinge,  //-,-.?.  //.  fluting,  A  91. 

Fneseth,  />>:  s.  breathes  heavily,  pufls,  snorts, 

H62. 
Poison,  s.  abundance,  B  504. 
Poles,  //.  fools,  L.  (A)  315. 
Folily,  tuh'.  foolishly,  R.  2603. 
Folk,  i.  sort,  company,  M.  P.  v.   524;   Folkes, 

//.  companies  of  people,  M.  P.  v.  278. 
Folwe,  I  />>:  s.  follow,  M.  P.   iii.  585;   Folowed 

wel,  followed  as  a  matter  of  course,  M.  P.  iii. 

T012;  Folwen, /r. //  follow,  C  514;   Folweth, 

/«//.  //.  follow,  imitate,  E  11 89. 
Foly,  Folye,  .»-.  folly,  M.  P.  iii.  610;   E  236. 
Foly,  mh:  fooli>hly,  M.  P.  iii.  874. 
Folyen,  /r.  //.  act  foolishly.  Bo.  III.  p.  ii.  112. 
Fome.    See  Foom. 

Fomy,  iii(/.  covered  with  foam,  L.  1208. 
Fond,  //.  i-.  found,  M.  P.  ii.  14. 
Fond,  //.  fooled,  R.  5367. 
Fonde,  r'.  try,  endeavor,  M.  P.  iii.  1020;   try  to 

persuade,   B   347;    attempt,    try,  E   283.     See 

Founde. 
Fonge,  T.  to  receive,  B  377. 
Fonne.  .?.  fool,  A  4089. 
Font-ful  water,  fontful  of  water,  B  357. 
Pontstoon,  s.  font,  B  723. 
Foo,  s.  foe,  M.  P.  V.  339;  Foos,  foes,  //.  M.  P. 

ii.  55;   Foon,  //.  M.  P.  v.  103. 
Fool,  lu/j.  foolish,  M.  P.  V.  505. 
Fool,  s.  a  fool,  employed  to  make  sport,  B  3271. 
Fool-hardinesse,    i.    foolish  daring,   M.  P.   v. 

227. 

Foom,  .r.  foam,  G  564;   Fome,  dai.  G  565. 

Foo-mu^;  i-.  />: '.  foes.  B  3255,  3507. 

Foon,  Foos.    See  Foo. 

Pootbrede,  i.  foot-bteadth,  H.  F.  2042. 

Foot-hot,  rt(/7'.  instantly,  on  the  spot,  B  438. 

For,  ci'iij.  because,  M.  P.  iii.  735,  789;  in  order 
that,  B  478;   F  102. 

For,  /r<7*.  in  respect  of,  M.  P.  v.  336;  in  spite 
of,  notwithstanding,  M.  P.  iii.  535;  /or  >iiy 
dfi/ce,  were  I  to  die  for  it,  for  fear  of  my  death, 
M.  P.  iv.  186;  For  to,  U't't/i  i7ifi)i.  to,  M.  P. 
iv.  94,  et  passim:  for  the^ake  of.  Bo.  I\'.  p. 
vi.  207;  against,  T.  i.  928;  against;  in  order  to 
avoid,  L.  231 ;  for  me  =  by  my  means,  F  357. 

Forage,  s.  forage,  food,  B  1973. 

Foibede,  pr.  s.  subj.  may  forbid,  M.  P.  v.  582; 
Forbodc, //.  forbidden,  M.  P.  xvi.  17;  Forbad, 
pt.  s.  forbade,  E  570;  Forbedeth,  /r.  s.  for- 
bids, C  643. 

For-bereth,  />«/.  //.  forgive,  L.  80. 

Forbode,  s.  prohibition;  goddcs  forbade,  it  is 
God's  prohibition  (;'.^.  God  forbid),  L.  (A)  10. 

Forbrak,  i  t>t.  s.  broke  off,  interrupted.  Bo.  IV. 
p.  i.  7. 


For-by,  adv.  past,  L  2539. 

Forbyse,  ?'.  exemplify,  T.  ii.  1390. 

Force;    no  force,  no   matter,  M.    P.    xviii.    53. 

See  Fors.     . 
Forcracchen,  v.  scratch,  R.  323. 
For-dide,  //.  s.  slew,  L.  2557;  Fordoon,//.  slain, 

L.  939. 
For-do,  V.  destroy,  T.  i.  238;  //.  destroyed,  M. 

P.  ii.  86;   T.  i.    74;    Fordone,  //.  destroyed, 

ruined,  R.  4339. 
Fordoon,  7'.  to  do  for,  to  destroy,  B  369. 
Fordriven,  //.  driven  about.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  81. 
For-dronke,  //.  very  drunk,  C  674. 
Fordrye,  adj.  very  dry,  exceedingly  dry,  with- 
ered up,  F  409. 
Fordwyned,//.  wasted,  R.  366. 
Fore,  .f   course,  D  1935. 
Foresteres,  s.  f>l.  foresters,  M.  p.  iii.  361. 
Foreyne,  adj.  extraneous.  Bo.  III.  p.  iii.  76. 
Foreyne,  j.  outer  chamber,  L  1962. 
Forfare,  v.  fare  ill,  R.  5778. 
For-fered,  //.   exceedingly  airzidi'.forferedof, 

very  afraid  for,  F  527. 
Forgaf, //.  .f.  forgave,  L.  162. 
Forgift,  s.  forgiveness,  L.  1853. 
For-gO,//.  overwalked,  exhausted  with  walking, 

H.  F.  115. 
Forgo,   V.  forego,  give  up,  leave  alone,  L.  (A) 

312;  lost,  M.  P.  iv.  256. 
Forgoon,  v.  forgo,  G  610. 
Forheved,  .?.  forehead.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  157. 
Forlete,  v.  to  leave,  yield  up,  B  1848;  to  give 

up,  C  864.  -«.?.-\^*? 

Forliven,  v.  degenerate.  Bo.  III.  p.  vi..t,i 

lived,//,  as  adj.  degenerate,  ignoble,  ••   P- 

m.  vi.  15. 
Forlorn,  //.  lost,  L.  2663.  —  394- 

Forloyn,  s.  note  on  a  horn  for  rer-7'  excellent, 

386.  Gentils,  //. 

Forme-fader,  s.  first  father,  B  22-'le  folk, 
Formel,  jt.  companion   v'said  of 

371.373  ;  _.     . 

Formest,  adj.  sup.  foremost,  M.  P.  iiirQ^:^2^*>   y^' 
Forncast,  //.  planned,  I  448.  ^''r 

Forneys,  s.  furnace,  A  559. 
Forpampred,  //.  exceedingly   pampered,  spoilt 

by  pampering,  M.  P.  ix.  5. 
For-pyned,//.  exhausted  with  suffering,  L.  2428. 
Fors,  s.  matter,  consequence,  M.  P.  v.  615;   no 

fors,  no  matter,  never  mind,  M.  P.  iii.  522;  no 

fors  of  me,  no  matter  about  me,  M.  P.  iv.  197; 

therofnofors,  no  matter  for  that,  never  mind 

that,  M.  P.  iii.  1170;  I  do  no  fors,  I  don't  care, 

M.  P.  xi.  31;    I  do  no  fc-s  therof,  it   is  no 

matter  to  me,  M.  P.  iii.  542;   make  no  fors, 

take  no  heed,  H  68.  See  Force. 
Forsake,  v.  deny.  Bo.  1.  p.  iv.  185. 
Forsake,  v.  to  forsake,  leave,  B  3431. 


and  h'- 


M.  p. 


824 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Forshapen,  //.  misshapen,  T.  ii.  66. 
For-shright, //.  tired  with  shrieking,  T.  iv.  1147. 
Forsleuthen,  t.  over  tarry,  B  4286. 
For-sleweth, /r.  .r.  is  over-slothful,  I  685. 
For-sluggeth,  />>-.  s.  is  over-sluggish,  I  685. 
Forsongen,  //.  exhausted  with  singing,  R.  664. 
Foister,  .r.  forester,  A  117. 
For-Straught, //.  exhausted,  B  1295. 
Forsweringe,  s.  forswearing,  swearing   falsely, 

H.  F.  153- 
Forswor  him,  />t.  s.  forswore  himself,  was  for- 
sworn, H.  F.  389. 
For-sworn, //.  forsworn,  L.  1259. 
Forth,  <ic/v.  on,  M.  P.  V.  27;   out,  M.  P.  v.  352; 

forth,  F  605 ;   ttscii  as  v.  =  go  forth,  F  604. 
Forthenke,  v.  repent,  R.  3957. 
Forthering,  j.  furtherance,  aid,  L.  (A)  69. 
Forthermo,  mh'.  moreover,  C  594. 
Forther   over,   adv.    furthermore,   moreover,  C 

648. 
Forthest,  adj.  and  adv.  furthest.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi. 

14S. 
For-thinke,  v.  repent,  T.  ii.  1414. 
Forthren,  v.  further,  help,  L.  71;  ger.  to  assist, 

L.  1618;  Forthred, //.  helped,  L.  413. 
Forth-right,  adv.  straight,  directly,  F  1503. 
Forthward,  adv.  forward,  B  263. 
Forthy,  adv.  therefore,  A  1841. 
Fortuit,  adj.  fortuitous.  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  102. 
Fortuned,  //.  //.  happened,  chanced,  M.  P.  iii. 

288;  //.  endowed  by  fortune,  M.  P.  iv.  180. 
Fortunel,  adj.  accidental.  Bo.  V.  m.  i.  18. 
EtlSle\h:^°'  '^'-  P''<=^=*Se,  A  417. 
g^ju'nous,  adj.  fortuitous,  accidental.  Bo.  I.  p. 

Evang> 

Eve   s  ev^<^^-  weary  through  watching,  M.  P. 

Evei,  adv.^.  596. 

Even,  adv.  ifP-  '"■^°  ^""  wandering,  R.  3336. 

441'  /?// £'7'<S''**^'"^"''  L-  ^5oo'-  PfOfn'S^.  B  4°- 

Evene,  adj.  ti-  withered    R.  361. 

Evene-lyk,  arf,^^=*''y'  exhausted  through  weep- 

Everich  »-^';-"'-'^^- 
.  ,vj~ied,//.  worn  out,  R.  235. 

x-'or-wery,  adj.  worn  out   with  weariness,  very 

tired,  M.  P.  v.  93. 
Forwes,  //.  furrows,  M.  P.  ix.  12. 
Forwhy,  conj.  because,  M.  P.  iii.  461. 
For-witer,  i.  foreknower.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  369. 
Forwiting,  3^.  foreknowledge,  B  4433. 
For  vv^OOd,  adj.  extremely  mad,  furious,  L.  2420. 
-Forv^'Ot,  />r.  s.  hath  foreknowledge  of,  H.  F.  45. 
Forwrapped,  //.  wrapped  up,  C  718. 
Foryaf,/^.  j-.  forgave,  respited,  T.  iii.  1577. 
Foryede,  //.  j.  fo.  v/ent,  desisted  from,  T.  ii.  1330. 
FoiyeldCj/r.  .s.  suSJ.  may  (he)  requite,  reward, 

L   457- 
Foryete,  v.  forget,  M.  P.  iii.  1125. 
Foryetful,  adj.  forgetful,  E  472. 


Foryetinge,  s.  forgetfulness,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  106. 
For-yeve,  v.  forgive,  M.  p.  iii.   1284;  pt.  fl.  for- 
gave, L.  1848;   F'or-yive,  imp.  s.  forgive,  M.  P. 

iii.   525;   given  up,  M.   P.   iii.   877;    P"or-yeven, 

//.  -used absolutely ,he^\n^{ox%\\e.x\,  M.  P.  v.  82. 
Fostred,  //.    nurtured,   brought   (up),  G   122; 

nurtured  in  the  faith,  G  539;  nurtured,  kept, 

E  1043. 
Fote,  .y.  a  foot;  on  fote,  on  foot,  F  390. 
Fother,  .r.  cartload,  A  530. 

Fot-hoot,«</7'.  hastily, immediately, M. P.  iii.  375. 
Foudre,  .y.  thunderbolt,  H.  F.  535. 
Foul,  adj.  foul,  had;  /or  Jbul  ne /air,  hy  foul 

means    or    fair,    B    525;     Foule,    adj.    poor, 

wretched,  B  4003. 
Foul,  s.  bird,  fowl,  M.  P.  iv.  13. 
Foule,   adv.    foully,   M.    P.    iii.   623;    v.    517; 

foully,  shamefully,  L.  1307. 
Fouler,  i.  fowler,  L.   132. 
Founde,  v.  seek  after,  M.  P.  vii.  241;  i  pr.  s. 

try,  endeavor,   M.  P.    vii.    47;    Founden,  //. 

found,  M.  P.  iii.  73;  provided,  B  243. 
Foundement,  .?.  foundation,  H.  F.  1132. 
Foundred,//.  .r.  fell,  A  2687. 
Founes,  i.  //.  fawns,  M.  P.  iii.  429. 
Foure,  four,  B  491. 
Fourneys, .?.  furnace,  B  3353. 
Foynen,  pres.  pi.  thrust,  A  1654. 
Foyson,  .?.  abundance,  A  3165. 
Fraknes,  s.  pi.  freckles,  A  2169. 
Franchyse,  .r.  liberality,  M.  P.  xviii.  59. 
Frankeleyn,  j.  franklin,  F  675. 
Frape,  s.  company,  T.  iii.  410. 
Fraught,//,  freighted,  B  171. 
Fraunchyse,  s.  liberality,  B  3854. 
Frayneth, /r.  i'.  prays,  hes;eeche'eme(4^go 
Fre,  .'..<;'    noble,  good,  bounteous,   liberal,  M.  P. 

iii.  484;  as  s.  noble  one,  M.  P.  I'i.   104;  pro- 
fuse, E  1209. 
Fredom,  s.  liberality,  bounty,  M.  P.  iv.  175. 
Freele,  adj.  frail.  Bo.  III.  p.  x.  39. 
Freendes,  j.  //.  friends,  B  269. 
Freletee,  s.  frailty,  E  1 160. 
Fremde,  foreign,  F  429. 
Frere,  j.  friar,  M.  p.  xix.  19. 
Fret,  i.  ornament,'*L.  215,  228. 
Frete,  v.  devour,  swallow  up,  M.  P.  vii.  12;  //. 

eaten,  devoured,  B.  475;   Freten,//.  devoured, 

A  2068. 
Fretted,//,  adorned,  L.  1117. 
Freyned,//   asked,  questioned,  G  433. 
"Bin,  prep,  from,  M.  P.  ii.  116;  out  of,  M.  P.  iv. 

254;  in  fear  of,  T.  i.  748. 
Frosty,  adj.  which  accompanies  frost,  M.  P.  v. 

364;  frosty,  cold,  L.  878. 
Froteth,/r.  s.  rubs,  A  3747. 
Frounced,//,  wrinkled,  R.  365. 
Frounceles,  adj.  unwrinkled,  R.  860. 


GLOSSARIAL    INDEX. 


825 


Frount,  j.-.  true  countenance,  Bo.  II.  p.  viii.  8. 

Fructifye,  7'.  produce  fruit,  M.  P.  xvi.  48. 

Fructuous,  iii/j.  fruitful,  I  73. 

Fruyt,  s.  result  (lit.  fruit),  15  411. 

Fruytesteres,  i-  pi.  fern,  fruit-sellers,  C  478. 

Fugitif,  adj.   fleeing  from,  H.  F.  146. 

Ful,  adj.  full,  B  86. 

Ful,«(/r'.  very,  quite,  M.  P.  ii.  33;  very,  B  3506; 
ful  many,  very  many,  F  128. 

Fulfild,//.  filled  full,  quite  full,  M.  P.  v.  89;  ful- 
filled, E  596;  completed,  fully  performed,  I  17. 

Fulfille,  7'.  fulfil;  Fulfuldest,  2//.  .j.  didst  satisfy, 
Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  72. 

Fulle;  at  thefiille,  completely,  M.  P.  iii.  899. 

Fulliche,  adv.  fully,  E  706. 

Fulsomnesse,  .s.  satiety,  profuseness,  F  405. 

Fumetere,  i-.  the  herb  fumitory,  B  4153. 

Fumositee,  .?.  fumes  arising  from  drunkenness, 
C567:   K358. 

Furial,  adj.   tormenting,  F  448. 

Furlong,  s.  furlong,  hence  time  of  walking  a 
furlong,  one-eighth  part  of  twenty  minutes, 
two  minutes  and  a  half,  M.  P.  vii.  328;  Furlong- 
way,  H.  F.  2064;   Furlong-wey,  L.  307. 

Furthering,  s.  helping,  M.  P.  v.  384. 

Furthre,  v.  help,  H.  F.  2023. 

Fusible,  adj.  fusible,  capable  of  being  fused,  G 
856. 

Fy!  iiitcrj.  fie!   M.  P.  iii.  1115. 

Fyf ,  five,  B  3602. 

Fyle,  V.  file,  smooth  by  filing,  M.  P.  v.  212. 

Fyn,  s  end,  M.  P.  iv.  218;  end,  purpose,  result, 
B  3348,  3884. 

Fynal,  adj.  final,  L.  2IOI. 

Fyne,  adj.  //.  fine,  good,  F  640. 

Fyne,  v.  finish,  cease,  stop,  T.  iv.  26. 

Fynt,  pr.  s.  findeth,  finds,  L.  1499. 

Fyr.  i.  fire,  B  3734. 

Fyry,  adj.  fiery,  M.  P.  iv.  27. 

Fysicien,  s.  physician,  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  5. 


Gabbe,  i  f>r.  s.  speak  idly,  lie,  M.  P.  iii.   1075; 

V.  talk  idly,  gossip,  T.  iii.  301. 
Gadeling,  .9.  v.ngabond,  R.  938. 
Gadrede,//.  s.  gathered,  A  S24. 
Gaillard,  Gaylard,  adj.   gay,  merry,  A  4367, 

3336 
Galantyne,  s.  a  kind  of  sauce,  M.  P.  ix.  16. 
Galaxye,  s.  the  galaxy.  Milky  Way,  M.   P.  v. 

56;  H.  F  936. 
Gale,  V.  cry  out,  D  832. 
Galianes,  -f  //.  medicines,  C  306. 
Galingale,  .f   sweet  cypress  root,  A  381. 
Galle,  .r.  gall,  M.  P.  x.  35:   B  3537;  G  58,  797; 

Galles,//.  feelings  of  envy,  M.  P.  ix.  47. 


Galoche,  j.  a  shoe,  F  555. 

Galoun,  i-.  gallon,  H  24. 

Galping, p>es.  pi.  gaping,  F  350. 

Galwes,  s.  //.  gallows,  B  3924,  3941. 

Game,  .?.  sport,  M.  P.  xxii.  61;  game_^  amuse- 
ment, L.  489;  joke,  E  733. 

Gan,  pt.  s.  began,  M.  P.  i.  133:  ii.  19;  but  com- 
monly used  as  a  tnere auxiliary,  d\A,  M.  P.  i. 
92.     Pt.  t.  0/ ginnen. 

Ganeth,  pr.  s.  yawneth,  H  35. 

Gapeth,/r.  s.  opens  his  mouth,  L.  2004. 

Gapinges,  s.  pi.  greedy  wishes,  lio.  11.  m.  ii.  18. 

Gargat.  s.  throat,  B  4525. 

Garisoun,  7-.  cure,  R.  3249. 

Garnisoun,  s.  garrison,  B  2217. 

Gas,  goes,  A  4037. 

Gastnesse,  s.  terror.  Bo.  III.  p.  V.  32. 

Gat,//  .r   got.  obtained,  M.  P.  vii.  206  ;  L.  r649. 

Gat-tothed,  «(/;■,  goat-toothed,  lascivious,  A  468. 

Gaude,  i.  trick,  course  of  trickery,  C  389. 

Gauren,^cr.  to  gaze,  stare,  B  912;  Gaureth,/r. 
s.  gazes,  stares,  B  3559. 

Gayl,  s.  jail,  R.  4745. 

Gayler,  s.  jailer,  B  3615;  Gaylere,  L.  2051. 

Gayneth,/r.  s.  availeth,  A  1787. 

Gaytres  beryies,  berries  of  the  dogwood  tree,  B 
4155- 

Geaunt,  j.  giant,  M.  P.  v.  344;  B  1997. 

Gebet,  .s.  gibbet,  gallows,  H.  F.  106. 

Geere.    .See  Gere. 

Gendres,//.  kinds,  H.  F.  18. 

General,  adj.  with  wide  sympathies,  lib'^ral,  M 
r,  ni.  990. 

Gent,   adj.   refined,  exquisite,  noble,  M.   P. 
558;  B  1905.     Short  for  gentil. 

Genterye,  .f.  nobility,  magnanimity,  L.  394. 

Gentil,  «<//'.  gentle,  worthy,  B  1627;  excellent, 
B3123;  compassionate,  P"  483;  Gentils, //.  s. 
people  of  gentle  birth,  '  the  noble  folk,'  M.  P. 
vi;.  67:  C  323;  E  480. 

GCrftilesse,  s.  nobility  of  nature  amLj'"-;  vjo- 
courtesy,  M.  P.  ii.  68;  L.  610;  Gent.*csse^ 
kindness,  G"1C5;;  c'Ondescension,  B  853;  no- 
bleness, B  3441;  F  483,  505;  nobility,  R  3854; 
worth,  E  96;  slenderness,  symmetry,  F  426; 
delicate  nurture,  E  593. 

Gentileste,  adj.  sup.  most  beautiful,  most  deli- 
cate, M.  P.  V.  373. 

Gentilleste,  adv.  noblest,  E  72. 

Gentilly,  (j(/'7'.  courteously,  B  1093;  in  a  frank 
or  noble  manner,  frankly,  F  674. 

Geomancie,  s.  divination  by  figures  made  on  the 
earth,  I  605. 

Geometriens,  s.  pi.  geometricians.  Bo.  III.  p.  x. 
161. 

Gere,  s.  changeable  manner,  M.  P.  iii.  12^7. 

Gere,  s.  gear,  property,  B  800;  gear,  clothing,  E 
372. 


826 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Gerful,  adj.  changeable,  T.  iv.  286. 
Gerland,  j.  garland,  G  27. 
Gery,  adj.  changeable,  A  1536. 
Gesse,  i  pr.  s.  suppose,  M.  P.  iv.   195;    B  246; 
think,  L.  893;  Gessing, /r^j. //.  intending,  L. 

363- 

Gessinge,  j.  opinion,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  351. 

Gest,  J.  guest,  H.  F.  2S8. 

Geste,  .y.  romance,  story,  T.  iii.  450;  L.  (A)  87; 
a  stock  story;  in  geste,  like  the  common  stock 
stories,  B  2123;  Gestes,  //.  stories,  B  1126;  F 
211. 

Gestes    {g  as  j'),  pi.  doings,  deeds,  H.  F.  1434. 

Gcstiours  {g a^j), pi.  story-tellers,  H.  F.  1198; 
Gestours,  B  2036. 

Get,  .y.  contrivance,  G  1277. 

Geten,  ger.  to  get,  obtain,  L.  1358;  pp.  han 
geten  hem,  to  have  acquired  for  themselves, 
F  56;  gotten,  obtained,  won,  L.  1753;  Gete,  2 
pr.  pi.  as  /lit.  will  get,  M.  P.  v.  651;  //.  ob- 
tained, M.  P.  iv.  265.     See  Gat. 

Gif,  coHJ.  if,  A  4181. 

Gigges  (,g  as  j),  pi.  rapid  movements,  H.  F. 
1942. 

Gigginge,  pres.  pt.  strapping,  A  2504. 

Gilden,  adj.  of  gold,  golden,  M.  P.  iii.  338. 
^  Gilt,  s.  guilt,  M.  P.  i.  178. 

)  Giltlees,   adj.    guiltless,    B   643;     Giltelees,    B 

1062;  Giltles,  L.  2092. 

Gin,    s.    contrivance,   L.    1784;    snare,   contriv- 
T,  ance,  G  1165;  Ginne,  engine,  contrivance,  R. 

■   *  •        4176.  . 

Etllgebreed,  j.  gingerbread,  B  2044. 

Etnne,  zi.  begin,  attempt,  H.  F.  2004;  Ginnen, 

'^  pr.  pi.  begin,  L.  38. 

Ginning,  j.  beginning,  M.  p.  xxii.  80. 

Gipoun,  J.  short  vest,  A  75. 

Girdel,  s.  a  girdle,  B  1921. 

Girden,  v.  to  strike,  B  3736. 

Girt, /r.  i.  girdeth,  M.  P.  iv.  100;  girdeth,  jjirds, 
L.  I77';- 

T?vftricfle,  J. 'naibc.;;   r.  5978. 

Giser,  s.  gizzard,  liver,  Ro.  III.  r.i.  xii.  52. 

Giternes,  s,  pi.  guitars,  C  466. 

Glade,  adj.  pi.  glad,  M.  P.  iii.  601. 

Glade,  71.  gladden,  cheer,  M.  P.  iii.  563;  to  make 
glad,  comfort,  cheer,  B  4001;  Gladen,  ger.  to 
rejoice,  M.  P.  v.  687;  Gladde,  v.  cheer,  relieve, 
M.  P.  iii.  702;  Gladeth,  imp.  pi.  rejoice,  M. 
P.  iv.  I. 

Gladly,  adv.  by  preference,  L.  770;  willingly,  F 
224;  that  been  gladly  luyse,  that  wish  to  be 
thought  wise,  F  376. 

Gladsom,  adj.  pleasant,  B  3968. 

Glareth,  pr.  s.  glistens,  H.  F.  272. 

Glas,  .r.  glass,  F  254. 

Glase,  V.  glaze,  T.  v.  469.    See  Howve. 

Glasing,  j-.  glazing,  M.  p.  iii.  327. 


Glede,  .r.  a  burning  coal,  B  in,  3574. 
Gledy,  adj.  glowing,  burning,  L.  105. 
Glee,  s.  glee,  singing,  joy,  M.  P.  i.  100;  enter- 
tainment, B  2030. 
Gleed,  .f.  glowing  coal,  L.  735. 
Glente,  //.  .f.  glanced,  T.  iv.  1223. 
Glewe,  V.  fasten,  glue,  H.  F.  1761. 
Gleyre,  j.  white  (of  an  egg),  G  S06. 
Glood,  pt.  s.  glided,  went  quickly,  B  2094. 
Glose,  J.  comment,  L.   328;  glosing,  comment, 

F  166. 
Glose,  V.   to  flatter,   B  3330;    I  45;    Glosen,  to 

comment  upon,  B  1180. 
Glotoun,  J.  glutton,  M.  P.  V.  610,  613. 
Gloumbe,  t.  frown,  R.  4356. 
Glyde,  r-.  glide,  M.  p.  iv.  53;    up  glyde,  to  rise 

up  gradually,  F  373;  to  glide,  ascend,  G  402. 

See  Glood. 
Gnow,  //.  s.  gnawed,  B  3638. 
Goddes,  //.  gods,  M.    P.  iii.    1328;   gen.   sing. 

God's,  B  1166. 
Gode,  adj.  fern.  s.  good,  M.  P.  iii.  948. 
Gode,  J.  property,  wealth,  L.  2638. 
Gold  bete,  adorned  with  beaten  gold,  gilt,  M.  P. 

vii.  24. 
Golee,  s.  gabble,  lit.  mouthful,  M.  P.  v.  556. 
Golet,  i.  throat,  gullet,  C  543. 

Gomme,  .r.  gum,  L.  121. 

Gon,   V.   go,   proceed,    F   200;    walk,   L.    1399; 

Gooth,  pr.   s.   goes,   B  385;    Goost,   2  //-.  i. 

goest,  walkest   about,  B  3123;  Goon,  pr.  pi. 

go,   proceed,   E  898;  Goon.  pp.   gone,   B   17; 

goon  is  many  a  yere,  many  a  year  ago,  B  132; 

Go,  2  pr.  pi.  ye  walk,  go  on  foot,  C  748.     See 

Goon. 
Gonfanoun,  .r.  pennon,  banner,  R.  1201. 
Gonne,  .y.  gun,  cannon,  H.   F.   1643;   missile,  L. 

637. 
Gonne, /^. //.  did;  gonne  arace,  did  tear  away, 

removed,  E  1103.     See  Gan. 
OooJ    s.  gofid?,  property    wealth,  G  831. 
Goodely,  adzt.  kindly,  M.  P.  iii.  1283. 
Goodlich,  adj.  kind,  bjfintiful,  G  1053. 
Goodlihede,  j.  goodliness,  M.  P.  iii.  829;  Good- 

liheed,  goodly  seeming,  H.  F.  330;   a  goodly 

outside,  H.  F.  274. 
Goodly,  adj.  good,    proper,   pleasing,   right,    B 

3969;  good  looking,  portly,  B  4010. 
Gcod-man,  ,?.  master  of  the  house,  C  361. 
Goon,  ZI.  go,   M.   p.  iii.  145;   lete  it  goon,  let  it 

go,  neglect  it,  G  1475;  //.  gone,  L  792;  Gost, 

2  pr.  s.    goest,    L.    926;    Go,  v.  walk   about, 

roam,  L.  2066;  pr.  s.  subj.  may  walk,  L.  2069. 

See  Gon. 
Goos,  J.  goose,  M.  p.  V.  358. 
Goosish,  adj.  foolish,  T.  iii.  584. 
Goost.    See  Gon. 
Goost,  J.  a  ghost,  B  3124;  spirit,  T.  iv.  187;   the 


GLOSSARIAL    INDEX. 


827 


Holy  Ghost,  B  1660;  yaf  up  the  goost,  died, 
15  1862.     Sec  Gost. 

Goot,  s.  a  goat,  CJ  886. 

Gossomer,  s.  gossamer,  F  259. 

Gost,  ^.  spirit,  soul,  M.  P.  i.  56;  spirit,  M.  P  i. 
93;  spirit,  mind,  L,  103;  ycldeth  up  the  gost, 
gives  up  the  ghost,  L.  886;  ghost  (ironically), 
H  55;  the  Holy  Ghost,  G  328;  Goste,  dat.  M. 
P.  xiv.  10.     See  GOOSt. 

Gost.    Sec  Goon. 

Gostly,  adv.  spiritually,  mystically,  G  109. 

Goter,  J.  gutter,  T.  iii.  787;  gutter,  channel  for 
water,  L.  2705. 

Goth,  fir.  s.  goes,  M.  P.  i.  68;  ijitp.  pi.  go,  B 
3384.     See  Gon. 

Governaille,  .y.  management,  mastery,  E  1192. 

Governance,  .f.  government,  B  287;  providence, 
E  1161;  arrangement,  plan,  E  994;  Gover- 
naunce,  s.  control,  M.  P.  iv.  44;  care,  M.  P. 
iii.  1286;  self-control,  M.  P.  ii.  41;  rule,  gov- 
ernment, C  600;  sovereignty,  B  3541;  his 
governaiince,  the  way  to  manage  him,  F  311. 

Governe,  v.  govern,  control,  B  3587;  Governeth, 
imp.  pi.  arrange,  E  322. 

Governeresse,  j.  fe>n.  governor,  ruler,  mistress, 
M.  P.  i.  141;  ii.  80. 

Governour,  s.   governor,    master,   principal,   B 

Grace,  .y.  grace,  honor,  distinction,  M.  P.  v. 
45;  harde  grace,  hard  favor,  displeasure, 
severity,  M.  P.  v.  65;  favor,  kindness,  F  458; 
favor,  G  1348;  hir  grace,  her  favor  (ie. 
that  of  the  blessed  Virgin),  B  980;  pardon, 
B  647;  0/  grace,  out  of  favor,  in  kindness,  F 
161. 

Gracelees,  adj.  void  of  grace,  unfavored  by  God, 

r\\         .  grief,  sorrow,  M.  P.  vii.  276;   harm, 

angti,  r.  ii:   '028. 
Grant  mercy,  much  thanks,  G  1380. 
Grapenel,  .s.  grapnel,  L.  640. 
Gras,  s.  grace,  B  2021.    See  Grace. 
Gras,  s.  grass,  F  153. 
Graspe,  v.  grope,  T.  v.  223. 
Graunges,  //.  granges,  barns,  granaries,  H.  F. 

6yS. 
Graunten,  v.  grant,  fix,  name,  E  179;  Graunted, 

//.  s.  E  183;  gra/iiited  him,  agreed  to  what 

he  said,  L.  2665. 
Grave,  ivr.  to  engrave,  M.  P.  xxiii.  5;  Graven, 

pp    engraved,  graven,  H.   F.    193;    R.   4799; 

Grave,  H.  F    157. 
Grave,  z<.  dig;  doth  she  grave,  she  causes  to  be 

dug,  L.  678;  bury,  E681;  Graven,//,  buried, 

L.  785. 
Grayn,  s.  dye;   in  grayn,  in  dye,  i.e.  dyed  of  a 

fast  color,  B  1917.     See  Greyn. 
Gree,  s.  good  will,  M.  P.  xviii.  73. 


Gree,  s.  degree,  rank,  L.  1313;  gratitude,  good 

p.art,  E  1 1 51. 
Greet,  adj.  great,  M.  P.  iii.  954.     See  Crete. 
Grene,   adj.    green,   fresh,  M.  P.   xi.    5;    moss- 
covered,  M.   P    v.   122,  as   s.   green   clothing 

(the   color  of   inconstancy),   M.     P.    xxi.    7; 

greenery,  greenness,   F  54;   greenness,  living 

evidence,  G  90. 
Grenehede,  j.  greenness,  wantonness,  B  163. 
Gres,  i.  grass,  T,  ii.  515;  Greses,//.  grasses,  H. 

F.  1353. 
Gret,  adj.  great,  F  463.    See  Greet,  Grete. 
Grete,  adj.   as   s.  ;    the  grete,  the  chief  part, 

essential  part,  substance,  M.   P.   iii.   1242;    v. 

35;   the  chief  part,  L.  574,  1693,     See  Greet. 
Grete  see,  s.  the  Mediterranean,  R.  2748. 
Grette,  ipt.  s.  greeted,  M.  P.  iii.  503;   L.  116. 
Gretter,  adj.  co»ip.  greater,  E  1126. 
Grevaunce,  s.  grievance,  complaint  (against  us), 

M.  P.  i.  63;  discomfort,  M.  P.  v.  205;  afflic- 
tion, M.  P.  x.  47;  grievance,  hardship,  B  3703. 
Greve,  v.  to  grieve,  vex,  B  1638;  Greveth,/r. 

s.  ivipers.  it  vexes,  it  grieves,  E  647:  Greved, 

//.  L.  127. 
Greves,  i.  //.  groves,  M.  P.  iii.  417. 
Grevous,  adj.  grievous,  M.  P.  i.  20. 
Greyn,  ,r.  a  grain,  B  1852;  in  greyn,  in  grain, 

i.e.  of  a  fast  color,  F  511. 
Grille,  adj.  rough,  R    73. 
Grint, /r.  s.  grindeth,  H.  F.  1798. 
Grisel,  j.  name  given  to  an  old  man,  whose  hair 

is  gray  (lit.  old  horse),  M.  P.  xvi.  35. 
Grisly,  adj.  terrible,  awful,  M.  P.  vii.  3;  ''^  ; 

grewsome,  C  473. 
Grobbe,  v.  dig,  grub  up,  M.  P.  ix.  29. 
Groffe,  adv.  prone,  face  downwards,  R.  2561. 
Grome,  ,r.  man;  grome  and  wenclie,  man  and 

woman,  H.  F.  206;  Gromes,  //.  men,  R.  200. 
Grond,//.  j.  ground,  M.  P.  ix.  15. 
Gronte,  pt.  s.  groaned,  B  3899. 
Grotes,  s.  pi,  groats,  foui}-  -ny  pieces,  C  376. 
GruCChe,  v.  to  murmur,  E  X70;  .-pr.uc--'-  '" 

murmur  at  it,  E  354.  P-    i 

Gruf,  adri.  grovcllingly,  all  alongi  flat  down,  B 

1865. 
Grys,  s.  gray,  G  559. 
Guerdon,  ,f.  guerdon,  reward,  L.  1662;  Guerdoun, 

H.  F.  619. 
Guerdon,  v.  reward,  L.  2052. 
Guerdoning,  j.   reward-giving,  reward,  M.  P.  v. 

455 
Gunne,//.  //.  aux.  did,  M.  P.  v.  193.    See  Gan. 
Gyde,  s.  guide,  wielder,  M.  P.  v,  136;  ruler,  G  45. 
Gyde,  imp.  s.  may  (He)  guide,  B  245. 
Gyderesse,  j.  conductress.  Bo.  IV.  p.  i.  11. 
Gye,  J',  guide,  conduct  (myself),  L.  2045;  guide, 

rule,  B  3587;  ger.  to  guide,  regulate,  1  13. 
Gyle,  s.  guile,  M.  P.  iii.  620. 


828 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Gyse,  s.  way,  L.  (A)  105;  guise,  wise,  way, 
manner,  F  332;  in  /it's  gyse,  as  he  was  wont, 
B  790. 


Haberdassher,  j.  seller  of  hats,  A  361. 
Habergeoun,  5.  a  habergeon,  hauberk,  A  2119. 
liabltacle,  s.  habitable  space,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  65; 

Habitaclcs, //.  niches,  H.  F.  1194. 
Haboundaunce,  J.  plenty,  M.  P.  x.  29. 
Haboundaunt, /ri'.s.  pi.  abounding,  Bo.  III.  p. 

ii-  35- 
Habounde,  7>.  to  abound,  B  3938. 
Haboundinge, /r^.r. //.  abounding,  M.  P.  i.  135. 
Habundant,  ai/y.  abundant,  E  59. 
Hacches,  //.  hatches,  L.  648. 
Haf,//.  i.  heaved,  A  3470. 
Hainselins,  s.  pi.  smocks,  I  422. 
Haire,  i.  hair  shirt,  R.  438. 
Hakeney,  i.  hack-horse,  hackney,  G  559. 
Hale,  z;.  draw,  attract,  M.  P.  v.  151;   Haleth,/r. 

.s.  draws  back,  M.  P.  i.  68. 
Half,  s.  side,  H.   F.   1136;  Halfe,  dat.  M.  P.  v. 
125;  on  my  hal/e,  from  me,  M,  P.  iii.  139;  a 
goddes  halfe,  for  God's  sake,  M.  P.  iii.  370, 
758. 
Half-goddes,  pi.  demi-gods,  L.  387. 
Halke,  .y   corner,  hiding-place,  L.  1780. 
Halp,//.  .y.  helped,  B  3236. 
Hals,  s.  neck,  M.  P.  v.  458;   H.  F.  394;  cut  the 

hals,  cut  in.the  throat,  L.  (A)  292. 
Etiiy*.,  I  pr.  s.  I  conjure,  B  1835. 
Filt,/>-.  .y.  holdeth,  holds,  B  807;  F61 ;  performs, 
M.  P.  iii   621;  considers,  H.  F.  630;  remains 
firm,M.  P.  X.  38. 
Halts,  pr.  s.   halts,  goes  lame,  M.  P.  iii.  622; 

Haltcn,  V.  limp,  T.  iv.  1457. 
Halve,  adj.  pi.  half,  M    P.  xxiii.  2. 
Halvendel,  adv.  half,  T.  .'iv.  100;  girdeth,  girds, 
Halwed,  //.  accr 
r:-/ericii\r?tp.-1iaibet  j.  R.  5978. 
Giser,  s.  gizzard,  livei'  Bo.  III.  iVi.  xii.  52. 
Giternes,  i,  //.  guitars,  C  466. 
Glade,  adj.  pi.  glad,  M.  P.  iii.  601. 
Glade,  V.  gladden,  cheer,  M.  P.  iii.  563;  to  make 
glad,  comfort,  cheer,  B  4001;  Gladen,  ger.  to 
rejoice,  M.  P.  v.  687;  Gladde,  v.  cheer,  relieve, 
M.   P.  iii.  702;  Gladeth,  zV«/.  //.  rejoice,  M. 
P.  iv.  I. 
Gladly,  adv.  by  preference,  L.  770;  willingly,  F 
224;  that  been  gladly  wyse,  that  wish  to  be 
thought  wise,  F  376. 
Gladsom,  adj.  pleasant,  B  3968. 
Glareth,  pr.  s.  glistens,  H.  F.  272. 
Glas,  i.  glass,  F  254. 
Glase,  V.  glaze,  T.  v.  469.    Sec  Howve. 
Glasing,  s.  glazing,  M.  P.  iii.  327. 


impers.  pr.  s.  it  happens  to  me,  M.  P.  v.  lo", 
Happede,/^.  i.  happened,  C  606. 
Hard.ai^^'.  ;  of  hard,  with  difficulty,  T.  ii.  1236; 

Harde,  adj.  def.  hard,  cruel,  F  499. 
Hardement,  .r.  hardihood,  R.  3392. 
Hardily,   nd%i.    surely,    certainly,   H.    F.    359; 
boldly,  without  doubting,  without  question,  E 
25;    Hardely,  unhesitatingly,  M.    P.    vi.  118; 
certainly,  M.  P.  iii.  1043. 
Hardinesse,  s.  boldness,  B  3210. 
Harding,  i.  hardening,  tempering,  F  243. 
Hardy,  adj.  bold,  sturdy,  F  19. 
Haried,//.  taken  as  a  prisoner,  A  2726. 
Harlot,  i-.  rascal,  A  647;  D  1754. 
Harlotryes,  .f.  //.  ribaldries,  A  561. 
Harme,  .?.  harm,  injury,  suffering  (dat.),  F  632. 
Harneised,//.  equipped,  A  114. 
Harneys,  j.  armor,  gear,  furniture,  harness,  A 

1006,  2896. 
Harre,  .f.  hinge,  A  550. 
Harrow,  interj.  alas!  C  288. 
Harwed,  //.  harrowed,  devastated,  A  3512;  D 

2107. 
Hasard,  s.  the  game  of  hazard,  C  591. 
Hasardour,  i.  gamester,  G  596. 
Hasardrye,  .s.  gaming,  playing  at  hazard,  C  590. 
Hasel-wodes,  s.  pi.  hazel-woods,  T.  iii.  890. 
Haste  her,  ^cr.  hasten,  M.  P.  iv.  56. 
Hasteth,  imp.  pi.  reft,  hasten,  make  haste,  I  72. 
Hastif,  adj.  hasty,  E  349. 
HastiliCh,  adv.  quickly,  E  911. 
HastOW,  for  Hast  thou,  L.  510. 
Hatte,  V.  be  called,  T.  iii.  797. 
Hatter,  adv.  more  hotly,  R.  2475. 
Hauberk,  j.  coat  of  mail,  M.  P.  iv.  97;   B  2033. 

See  Habergeoun. 
Hauking,  s.  hawking;  an  hauking,  a-hawking. 

B  1927. 
jonne,  pt.  i^<'*y'^.  ^,447 :  ^bo.'^*',  Ea  tear  away, 

removed,  E  1103.     See  Gan. 
Goci   :.  S'^'ds,  r^-^rjerty   wealth.  G  83'!. 
Goodely,  adv.  kindly,  M.  P.  iii.  1283. 
Goodlich,  adj.  kind,  bjfintiful,  G  1053. 
Goodlihede,  s.  goodliness,  M.  P.  iii.  829;  Good- 
liheed,  goodly  seeming,  H.   F.  330;  a  goodly 
outside,  H.  F,  274. 
Goodly,  adj.  good,   proper,   pleasing,    right,    B 

3969;  good  looking,  portly,  B  4010. 
Gcod-man,  j.  master  of  the  house,  C  361. 
Goon,  V.  go,  M.   p.  iii.  145;  lete  it  goon,  let  it 
go,  neglect  it,  G  1475;  pp.  gone,  L  792;  Gost, 
2  pr.  s.    goest,    L.    926;    Go,  v.  walk   about, 
roam,  L.  2066;  pr.  s.  subj.  may  walk,  L.  Z069. 
See  Gon. 
Goos,  .y.  goose,  M.  P.  v.  358. 
Goosish,  adj.  foolish,  T.  iii.  584. 
Goost.    See  Gon. 
Goost,  J.  a  ghost,  B  3124;  spirit,  T.  iv.  187;   the 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


829 


Hede,  V.  put  a  head  on,  T.  ii.  1042. 

Hede,  s.  heed,  care,  B  3577. 

Heed,  -f.  head,  M.   P.   ii.  24;   source,  M.  P.  xvi. 

43;   Hede,  head,  M.   P.  iv.  220;   Hedes, //.  V 

203;  Hevedes,  B  2032;  mangree  thyn  heed,  in 

spite  of  thy  head,  in  spite  of  all  thou  canst  do, 

B  104.     See  Heved. 
Heeld,    I  pt.  s.  held,  considered,  E  818;  //.  J. 

held,   esteemed,   C  625;    possessed,    B    3518; 

Helde,  //.  held,  B  3506. 
Heep,  s.  heap,  assembly,  host,  A  575. 
Hear,  s.  hair,  M.  P.  iii.  456;   Hcres,  //.   L.  1829. 
Heer,  ,i,i-'.  here,  M.  P.  v.  57;   B  1177. 
.Heer-biforn,  adv.   herebefore,  before    now,   M. 

P.  i.  34. 
Heer-mele,  i'.  hair's-brcadth.  As.  ii.  38,  17. 
Heigh,  ndj   high,  lofty,  B  3192. 
Heighly,  adv.  highly,  ungently,  T.  ii.  1733. 
Hele,   .s.    health,   healing,   recovery,  well-being, 

M.    P.  i.   80;   health,  L.   1159:    prosperity,  L. 

296. 
Hele,  V.  to  heal,  M.  P.  iii.  571;   F  240. 
Helelees,  adj.  without  health,  T.  v.  1593. 
Helen,  v.  heal,  M.  P.  xi.  4. 
Helle,  .f.  ge-H.  of  hell,  M.  P.  iii.  171;  dat.  hell, 

B  3292. 
Helmed,  //.  provided  with  a  helmet,  B  3560. 
Helpe,  /r.  J.  sul'j.  may  help,  M.  P.  iii.  550;  iv. 

141. 
Helps,  J.  help,  L.  1616. 
Helply,  adj.  helpful,  T.  v.  128. 
Hem,  //-«'«.  them,  M.  P.  iii.  1170. 
Hem-self , /r()«. //.  themselves,  M.  P.  v.  234. 
Heng, //.  s.  hung,  M.  P.  iii.  122;   Henge,  pt.  pi. 

M.  P.  ;v  174. 
Henne,  ahu.  hence,  C  687. 
Hennesforth,  adv.  henceforth,  H.  F.  782. 

nte,  pt.  s.  caught,  took,  M.  P.  iv.  97;  ger.  to 

an^ti,  i ..'.-.  '  _-  '■->-  f,>  '•    --t,'  '">■- 
Grant  mercy,  much  thanks,  G  1380. 
Grapenel,  s.  grapnel,  L.  640, 
Gras,  s.  grace,  B  2021.     See  Grace. 
Gras,  s.  grass,  F  153. 
Graspe,  v.  grope,  T.  v.  223. 
Graunges,  //.  granges,  barns,  granaries,  H.  F. 

698. 
Graunten,  v.  grant,  fix,  name,  E  179;  Graunted, 

pt.  s.  E  183 ;  graunted  him,  agreed  to  what 

he  said,  L.  2665. 
Grave,  A'cr.  to  engrave,  M.  P.  xxiii.  5;  Graven, 

//     engrrived,  graven,  H.    F.    193;    R.   4799; 

(irave,  H.  F.  157. 
Grave,  v.  dig;  doth  she  grave ,  she  causes  to  be 

dug,  L.  678;  bury,  E  681 ;  Graven,//*,  buried, 

L.  785. 
Grayn,  .r.  dye;  in  grayn,  in  dye,  i.e.  dyed  of  a 

fast  color,  B  1917.     See  Greyn. 
Gree,  s.  good  will,  M.  P.  xviii.  73. 


Herberweden,  //.  //.  lodged.  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  82. 
Her-biforn,  adv.  before  this  time,  L.  73;   here- 
before, B  613. 
Her  bothe,  gen.  pi.  of  both  of  them,  M.  P.  iv. 

52- 
Her-by,  adv.  hence,  H.  F.  263. 
Herd,  //.  haired,  A  2518. 
Herde,  s.  herdsman,  R.  6453;  T.  iii.  1235. 
Herde-grom£S,  s.  pi.  servants  who  look  after  the 

herds,  herdsmen,  H.  F.  1225. 
Herdes,  i.  refuse  of  flax,  R.  1233. 
Herdesse,  s.  /em.  herdswoman,  T.  i.  653. 
Here,  pron.  her,  M.  P.  vii.  120;   B  460. 
Here,  v.  hear,  M.  P.  i.  31;  Heren,  2/r. //.  hear, 

L.   1724;   Herd,  //.  heard,  B  613;    Herestow, 
for  Herest  thow,  hearcst  thou,  H.  F.  1031. 
Here,  adv.  here,  in  this  place,  on  this  spot,  M. 

P.  iii.  93.     See  Heer. 
Here  and  howne,  one  and  all  (?),  T.  iv.  210. 
Heres,   s.   pi.    hairs,   hair,  M.  P.   iii.   394.     See 

Heer. 
Herieth,  pr.    s.    praiseth,    B    1155;    praises,    B 

1808;   Heriest,  2 /r.  s.  praisest,  worshippest, 

B  3419;   Herie,  pr.  pi.  E  616;   Herien,  G  47; 

Heried,  //.  H.  F.  1405:   B  872. 
Herkne,    ger.    to   hearken,    listen   to,    B   3159; 

Herknen,    v.    L.    343;     Herkneth,    imp.    pi. 

hearken  ye,   C  454;    Herkeneth,  imp.  pi.  to 
^hearken,  listen   to,    B    1164;    Herkned,  //.  s. 

B   1711;     Herkning, /rci-    port,    listening    to, 

F  78;  Herkned  after,  pp.  listentd  for,  ex;  ^         v. 

F  403;   Herkene,  v.  hearken,  M.  P.. iii.  75V  • 
Hemes,  j.  //.  comers,  G  658. 
Heroner,  s.  heron-killer,  T.  iv.  413. 
Heronere,  adj.    used   for   flying  at    herons,  I  j. 

H20. 

Heronsewts.  s.  pi.  hemshaws,  young  heroi       t, 

68.  i,."/,  • 

'Teroune,  .t.  heron,  M.  P.  v.  346. 
Gronte,//.  s.  gro.;.'cu;_  ii.  15,  36. 
Grotes,  i.  //.  groats,  foulj.  P.  iv.  118.  j 

Grucche,  v.  to  murmur,  E  ./v/,-';s- 

murmur  at  it,  E  354.  -^  '•^  _j 

Gruf,  adv.  grovcllingly,  all  along>  flat  down,  B 

1865. 
Grys,  s.  gray,  G  S59- 
Guerdon,  .r.  guerdon,  reward,  L.  1662;  Guerdoun, 

H.  F.  619. 
Guerdon,  v.  reward,  L.  2052. 
Guerdoning,  s    reward-giving,  reward,  M.  P.  v. 

455 
Gunne,  pt.  pi.  au.x.  did,  M.  P.  v.  193.     See  Gan. 
Gyde,  s.  guide,  wielder,  M.  P.  v.  136;  ruler,  G  45. 
Gyde,  imp.  s.  may  (He)  guide,  B  245. 
Gyderesse,  i.  conductress.  Bo.  IV.  p.  i.  II. 
Gye,  I',  guide,  conduct  (myself),  L.  2045;   guide, 

rule,  B  3587;  ger.  to  guide,  regulate,  1  13. 
Gyle,  s.  guile,  M.  P.  iii.  620. 


830 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Hertly,  adj.   heartfelt,  honest,  L.  2124;  hearty, 

lit.  heart-like,  E  502;   F  5. 
Her-to,  adv.  for  this  purpose,  B  243. 
Heryinge,/. /re'j-.  praising,  B  1649. 
Heste,  J.  behest,  command,  B  382,  3754. 
Hete,  s.  heat,  M.   P.  iv.  88;  G  1408;  heat, /5«/ 
put  for  surge,  Bo.  I.  ra.  vii.  5;  passion,  M.  P. 
iv.  127. 
Hete,  V.  promise,  vow,  M.  P.  iii.  1226. 
Heterly,  adv.  fiercely,  L.  638. 
Hethen,  adj.  heathen,  B  904. 
Hethenesse,  s.  heathen  lands,  B  1112. 
Hething,  s.  mockery,  A  4110. 
Hette,  pt.  s.  heated,  inflamed,  M.  P.  v.  145. 
Hette,  //.  .r.  promised,  M.  P.  iv.  185. 
Heve,  pr.   s.   lifts  lip,   Bo.  V,  m.  v.  20;   Heef, 

pt.  s.  lifted,  Bo.  I.  p.  i.  20. 
Heved,  s.  head,  H,  F.  550.     See  Heed. 
Heven,  s.  heaven,  the  celestial  sphere,  B  3300; 
a    supreme    delight,    F    558;     Hevene,    ^eu. 
heaven's,  of  heaven,  M.  P.  i.  24. 
Hevenish,  adj.  of  the  heavens,  of  the  spheres, 

M.  P.  iv.  30;   heavenly,  H.  F.  1395. 
Hevieth,/r.  //.  weigh  down.  Bo.  V.  m.  v.  19. 
Hevinesse,  i-.  sadness,  M.  p.  iii.  601. 
Hevy,  adj.  sad,  M.  P.  iv.  12. 
Hew,  .f.  complexion,  L.  1748. 
Hewe,  s.  hue,  color,  complexion,  M.  P.  iii.  497; 
hue,  color,  L.   55;   pretence,  C  421;  hue,  ap- 
.nearance,  mien,  E  377. 
HalS,M^.^  domestic  servant,  E  1785. 

/itved,p/.  colored,  of  hue,  R.  3014. 
p\;y!   interj.  hey!    L.  1213. 
tley,  s.  hay,  H  14. 

''eyne,  .c  a  worthless  person,  G  1319. 
I'.vre,  i.  heir,  M.  P.  iii.  168. 
Haltre,  adj.  hair,  made  of  hair,  C  7:>'^f.  lu.  622; 

fj^iugge,  s.  hedge-sparrow,  M 
Hider,  adv.  hither,  M.  P.  iv..uii.  2. 
Hiderward,«(/z/.  hither. . inn.  707. 
Hidous,  adj.  dreadfii.ed  holy,  T.  iii.  268:  pt.  s. 
?Jielde„,«5-,if  allowed,  O  551. 
jGiiTweS,  i.  //.  saints  (apostles),  M.  P.  iii.  831; 
lit.  holy  ones,  B  1060;  gen.  pi.  of  (all)  saints, 
G  1244. 
Halydayes, //.  holy  days,  festivals,  A  3952;    I 

667. 
Hameled,  //.  mutilated,  cut  off,  T.  ii.  964. 
Hamers,//.  hammers,  M.  P.  iii.  1164. 
Han,  V.  have,  R.  4657;  keep,  retain,  C  725;   take 

away,  G  727;   obtain,  G  234. 
Hande-brede,  j-.  hand-breadth,  A  3811. 
Hap,  s.   chance,  luck,   M.    P.  v.   402;    luck,    B 
3928;  G  1209;  fortune,  good  fortune,  M.  P.  iii. 
1039;    hap   other  grace,  a  mere  chance  or  a 
special  favor,  M.  P.  iii.  810;   Happes,//.  oc- 
currences, M.  P.  iii.  1279. 
Happeth, /r.  .y.  chances,  F  592;  Happeth  me, 


Hir,  pron.  pers.  her,  B  162. 

Hires,  hers,  M.  P.  V.  482,  588. 

His,  its,  M.  P.  i.  178;   E  263;  F  405. 

Hit,  pron.  it,  M.  P.  ii.   117;  hit  am  I,  it  is  I, 

L.  314- 
Hit,  pr.  s.  hides,  F  512. 
Ho,  interj.  halt !   B  3957. 
Hoke,  s.  hook,  M.  P.  iv.  243. 
Hoker,  J.  mockery,  A  3965. 
Hokerly,  adv.  scornfully,  I  584. 
Hold,  s.  fort,  castle,  B  507;  hold,  grasp,  F  167. 
Holde,  V.  keep  to;  do  than  holde  herto,  keep  to 
it    then,   M,    P.   iii.   754;   hold,  keep,  B  41;   to 
keep   to,    F   658    (see   ProCPS) ;   //.    held,  es-. 
teemed,  M,  P.  xv.  10;   forced,  M.  P.  iii.  107S; 
bet  for  the  have  holde,  better  for  thee  to  have 
held,  M.   P.  V.  572;   indebted,  L.  763;  bound, 
L.  1447;  considered  to  be,  F  70;   Holden,  //. 
considered,  E  205;    held,  esteemed,    L.    1709; 
Holden,  V.  think,  consider,  L.  857;   Holdest,  2 
pr.   s.  accountest,   L.  326;   Holde,  i  pr.  s.  I 
consider,  deem,  G  739. 
Hole,  adj.  pi.  whole,  hale;    hole   and  sounde, 

safe  and  sound,  B  1150. 
Holm,  s.  holm,  evergreen  oak,  M.  P.  v.  178. 
Holour,  i-.  lecher,  D  254. 
Holpen,  //.  helped,  L.   1984;    helped,  aided,  F 

666;   Hoipe,  L.  461.     Pp.  ^y  Helpen. 
Holsom,  adj.  wholesome,  healing,  M.  P.  v.  206. 
Holt,  .f,  wood,  grove,  A  6. 
Holwe,  adj.  hollow,  G  1265. 
Horn,  adzi.  home,  homewards,  F  635. 
Homager,  s.  one  who  does  homage,  vassal,  R. 

3288. 
Homicyde,  s.  homicide,  assassin,  B  i7:;7. 
Homicvde.j,.,o_.a.         iifer.  murH' 
Hauking,  s.  hawking;   an  hauking,  a-hawkjng. 
B  1927.  ^ 

Haunt,  i.  p.actic,  A  447;  abode,  B  2001.  ^ 
Haunteth,  pr.  s.  practises,  C  547;   Hau 
pt.   pi.   practised,  C  464;  Haunten,   ' 
780. 
Hautein,  adj.  highflying,  L.  1120. 
Hauteyn,   adj.    proud,   stately,   M.   P.   v. 
loud,  C   330;    Hauteyne,  adj.  haughty,  1. 
flying,  R.  3739. 
Have,  V.  have,  B  114;   imp.  s.  hold,  consider, 
7;   receive,  E  567;   Haveth,  imp.  pi.   hold,  1 
700;  haz'e  doon,  make  an  end,  M.  P.  v.  492. 
Havoir,  v.  have,  R.  4720. 
Hawe,  s.  haw,  yard,  enclosure,  C  855. 
Ha  we,    J.  haw;    7uith  hawe  bake,  with  baked 
haws,  with  coarse  fare,  B  95;  Hawes,  //.  hips 
and  haws,  M.  P.  ix.  7. 
Hay,  i.  hedge,  R.  2987;   Hayes,  //.  T.  iii.  351. 
He,  used  for  it,  G  867,  868. 
He  —  he,  this  one  —  that  one,  M.  P.  v.  i56. 
Hed,  //.  hidden,  L.  208. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


831 


Hoor,  adj.  hoary,  gray,  C  743. 

Hoors,  adj.  hoarse,  T.  iv.  1147. 

Hoot,  adj.  as  s.  hot,  M.  P.  v.  380.     See  Hote. 

Hope,  J.  hope,  expectation,  G  870. 

Hoppesteres,  s.  pi.  dancers,  A  2017. 

Hord,  i.  lioarding,  M.  P.  xiii.  3;  hoard,  treasure, 

L'  775 
Here,  adj.  hoary,  gray-headed,  M.  P.  xvi,  31. 
Horn,  J.  horn  (musical  instrument),  H  90. 
Horowc,  adj.  f>l.  foul,  scandalous,  M.  P.  iv.  206. 
Hors,  .f.  a  horse,  B  15. 
Hors,  adj.  hoarse,  M.  P.  iii.  347. 
Horsly,   adj.    horse-like,  like   all    that   a   horse 

should  be,  F  194. 
Hose,  s.  hose,  old  stocking,  G  726;   Hoscn,  //. 

B  1923. 
Hoste,  s.  host,  B  I,  39:  E  I. 
Hostel,  s.  hostelry,  H.  F.  1022. 
Hostelrye,  s.  hostelry,  G  589. 

Hostiler,  s.  innkeeper,  A  241. 

Hote,  adj.  d,f.  voracious  (lit.  hot),  M.  P.  v. 
362;  adj.  hot,  an  epithet  of  Aries,  as  supposed 
to  induce  anger  and  heat  of  blood,  F  51 ;  //. 
hot,  M.  P.  V.  246.     See  Hoot. 

Hote,  '•.  be  called,  R.  38;  i  pr.  s.  command,  Vl' 
V.  1719. 

Hottes,  //.  baskets  carried  on  the  back,  H.  F. 
1940. 

Houndes,  s.  pi.  dogs,  E  1095. 

Houndfish,  s.  shark,  E  1825. 

Houped,//.  //.  whooped,  B  4590. 

Hous,  .f.  house,  home  ;  to  hous,  to  a  reception 
by,  L.  1546;  Houses,  //.  astrological  '  man- 
sions '  of  the  planets,  L.  2593. 

Housbond,  j.  husband,  B  863. 

Henne,  ««.":'?.•-■?. -'=cO-"'^57.    '      "" 

Hennesforth,  ad7'.  henceforth,  H.  F.  782. 

Hente,  pt.  s.  caught,  took,  M.  P.  iv.  97;  ger.  to 
seize;  dide  her  for  to  hente,  caused  her  to  be 
seized,  L.  2715;  seized,  took  forcibly,  E  534; 
took  in  hunting,  B  3449;  caught  away,  B 
1144;  raised,  lifted,  G  205;  pr.  s.  subj.  may 
seize,  C;  7;   Hent,  //.  caught,  L.  23->2. 

HentereS,  j.  pi.  seizers.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  89. 

Hepe,  s.  hip,  B  1937. 

Hepe,  s.  heap,  number,  M.  P.  iii.  295. 

Her,  pron.  pass,  their,  B  138,  140. 

Heraud,  ,?.  herald,  A  2533. 

Heraude,  ger.  to  herald,  proclaim  as  a  herald 
does,  H.  F.  1576. 

Her-before,  adv.  previously,  M.  P.  iii.  1302;  a 
wliile  ago,  M.  P.  iii.  1136;  Her-beforn,  M.  P. 
iii.  1304. 

Herber,  s.  arbor,  L.  203. 

Herbergage,  Si  lodging,  abode,  B  147. 

Herbergeours,  s.  pi.  receivers  of  guests,  R. 
5000;  harbingers,  providers  of  lodging,  B  997. 

Herberwe,  lodging,  inn,  harbor,  A  403,  765. 


Hye,  ger.  to  hasten,  H.  F.  1658;  hy  the,  has- 
ten thyself,  be  quick,  G  1295;  Hyed  hem,  rejl. 
pt.pl  hastened,  M.  P.  iii.  363. 

Hye,  adj.  high,  M.  P.  i.  37;  Hyer,  comp.  H.  F. 
II 17;  Hyest,  siiperl.  M.  P.  v.  324. 

Hye,  ad7\  high,  L.  1200;  loudly,  M.  P.  iii.  183; 
high,  aloft,  B  3592. 

Hyene,  j.  hyena,  M.  P.  x.  35. 

Hyne,  s.  hind,  peasant,  C  688. 

Hyre,  s.  hire,  reward,  M.  P.  i.  103. 


I  {/or  land  y). 

lade,  s.  a  jade,  i.e.  a  miserable  hack,  B  4002. 

lagounces,  s.  //.jacinths,  R.  1117. 

lalOUS,  adj.  jealous,  M.  P.  v.  342.     See  lelOUS. 

lalousye,  i-.  jealousy,  C  366.  Sec  lelosye. 
lambetlX,  s.  pi.  leggings,  leg-armor,  B  2065. 
lane,  s.  a  small  coin,  properly  of  Genoa,  B  1925; 

E  999. 
langle,  pr.  pi.  talk,  prate,  F  220. 
langler,  .f.  prater,  babbler,  M.  P.  v.  457:   Tan- 
gle re,  A  560. 
langles,//.  pratings,  babblings,  H.  F.  i960, 
langlest,  -2  pr.  s.  chatterest,  B  774. 
langling,  adj.  jangling,  prating,  M.   P.  v.  345. 
langling,  s.  prating,  idle  talking,  disputing,  F 
^257;  langlinge,  I  649. 
lape,   s.   jest,   mock,  or  laughing-stock,   H.  F. 

414;  a  irick,  B  1629.  ,  ^         .,         „ -• 

lape,  ger.  to  jest,  L.   1699;   H  4;  lapen,  ^.~T 

jest,  B  1883. 
lape-worthy,  adj.  ridiculous.  Bo.  V.  p.  iii.  163 
launyce,  .r.  jaundice,  R.  305.  _,, 

Icching,  i.  itching,  R.  2450. 
HeroJiSe'«V(A.':"«-  I.  R39-  T, 

68.  -■  F47.  >;  o.^  . 

Heroune,  s.  heron,  °f  ■ 

Herse,  s.  hearse,  M.  K-  P.  iv.  7.     See  IalOUS> 
Herselven,  ace.  herself,  iPicious,  M.  P.  iv.   i4<\  8t. 
Hert,  J.  hart,  M.  P.  iii.  351;   v.  i_ 
Herte,  s.  heart,  M.  P.  i.  12,  courage,     /.  i".     \ 

1222;   niyii  hertes,  of  my  heart,  M.  P.  iv.  57; 

Hertes,  pi.  L.  1841. 
Herte,//.  s.  hurt,  M.  P.  iii.  883. 
Herte-blood,  heart's  blood,  C  902. 
Hertelees,  without  heart,  cowardly,  B  4098. 
Hertely,    adv.    heartily,   earnestly,    M.    P.    iii. 

1226;  truly,  M.  P.  iii.  85;  heartily,  thoroughly, 

L-  33- 
Herte-rote,   .f.  root  of  the  heart,  depth  of  the 

heart,  L.  1993. 
Hertes,.?.  gen.  hart's,  B  3447;  //.  harts,  L.  1212. 
Herte-spoon,  s.  '  the  concave  part  of  the  breast, 

wliere  the  ribs  unite  with  the  cartilage  ensi- 

formis,'  A  2606. 
Herth,  pr.  s.  hcareth,  L.  (A)  327. 


832 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Importable,   adj.    iotolerable,   insufirrabte,    E. 

Impress^,  pr.  pi.  force  themselTcs  (upon),  make 

a^  icnprci^kMl  (upuoj,  C  1071. 
Impreeeioon,  t.  imprcssioo,  rcmembramoe,  F  371. 
In,  prep,  into,  M.  P.  xx.  6;   B  119, 
In,  s.  icn,  lodging,  B  1097. 
Isde,  »  indigo,  R.  irj. 
Indifferently,  adv.  impr>.ftiaU]r,  Bo.  V.  p.  iii. 

«57- 
Indnracioiui,  s.  hardeoing,  G  855. 
Infect,//  iavaJiidaied,  A  y2a. 
In-fere,  adv.  together,  M.   P.  it.  290. 
Iniorttinat,  adj.   uafortunate,  imuspickws,  B 

302. 
Infortnne,  i   misfcrrtuiie,  B  33.91. 
Ingot,  s.  an  iagoi,  a  mould  (ot  pouring  metal 

into,  C  1206. 
InbeUe,  pr-  pi.  inftue,  T.  iiL  44. 
luure,  t.  injury,  T.  iiL  101 3. 
iB-kaette,  pt  s.  coofiaed,  T.  iii.  ioS3. 
Inly,  adv    wlvjlly,  exquitiiety,  M.  P.  iiL  tj^; 

inwardly,  greatly,  H.  F.  31. 
In-mid,  prep,  into,  amid,  H.  F.  923, 
Inne,  adv.  in,  B  3193:  witbia,  C  S3o. 
lane,  prep  in,  F.  578. 
Inned,  pp.  boused,  A  2192. 
Inparfit,  ad/,  impericct.  Bo.  III.  p.  x.  10. 
InplitabLe,  adj.  intriiL^ce,  impracticable.  Bo.  i. 

p.  iv    loi. 
Unset.  //.  imnianted.  Bo.  11.  p.  iiL  19. 

^    'Jii«jie7  V.  press  in,  T.  ir.  66. 
mtresse,  i   interest,  M.  P.  x.  71. 
^il-with,/r-«-/.  within.  B  1794;  E  870. 
f'),  V   <:'-,mK  about,  T.  iiL  33 
,|clour6,  t.  pt.  jugglers,  H    F.  1259. 

ttalff'  ^  ^'  ^  ^^♦'    ^**  '"y*' 
^  a^'  joyful,  A  3355, 

Hide**'  i'^'»l'«y.  M-  p.  H.  39;    C  780;  F  278; 

^,       -sement,  B  2033;  eojoymeot,  F  344;  iolyiee, 

J.   j      .;y,    merriment,    happiness,    H,     F.    682; 

u   I'  >•■':,  M.  V.  V.  2a6. 

Z  IC  sK^i  pleasant,  delightful,  L.  176. 
.  Hierdec,  j  /.  fe««»«»y.  E  2S9. 
light,  pr.  f.  is  ci™'''«.  T.  iL  1037.  ,^ 

with  passive  tente,  1.  41/-  ffighte,  pt.  t. 
wai  called,  M  P.  iii.  frj;  Highlea,  pr.  pi.  are 
called,  L.  423;  Highle.  »  ><.  /A  promised,  E 

Higbte,  »  height,  B  12. 

Hi^hleth.  /r.  J.  adorns,  gladdens.  Bo.   I.  m.  iL 

Hlld,  //   r   bent,  mclined,  M.  P.  iii.  393. 
Him  selven,  ace.  himself,  M.  P.  iv.  98. 
Hiadreste,  hindmost,  A  622. 
Htpes,  //  hip*.  A  472. 

Hu,  pron.   pott,  their,   L.   753;    B  112;   her,  B 
65,  164. 


labbe,  1  jug,  A  3628. 

Inge,  t.  judge,  M.  P.  L  134. 

Ingement,  t.  jtidgment,decinoo,  L.  406;  opinioa, 

P  io}3 
Inpartye,  1.  tKovazAj,  R.  2^65. 
Insten,  r.  joust.  L.  1274;  H  42. 

lasting,  1.  y/witiag,  L-  1115. 

lostise,  t.  punishmciu,  R.  2077. 

lostyse,  1.  justice,  judge,  M.  P.  L  37;  jtK^uinw, 

coodenmatit^o,  M.  P.  L  143. 
Inwel,  «.  jewel,  jewelled  oraaoient,  L.  11 17. 
loyse,  /  justice,  judgment,  B  795. 
I-wie,  adv.  certainly,  truly,  M.  P.  tL  48. 


Kalender,  1.  calendar;  and  la  a  complete  lecord 

of  examples,  L.  542;  Kalfudnres,  x.  //.  calea- 

dars,  M.  P.  L  73, 
Kaleodes,  t.  pi.  calends,  the  first  or  b^inning, 

T.  T.  1634. 
KAlf,pt.  t.  cat,  M.  P.  bt.  21.     See  Kenre. 
Sleccbe,  v.  catch,  T.  iiL  1375, 
Kechil,  t.  cake,  D  1747. 
Keep,  /.  heed,  care,  M.  P.  riL  135;  L.  1735. 
Keic!  inter/,  (repreteats  the  cackle  of  a  gaofx, , 

M.  P.  T.  459. 
Kembe,  ger.  to  comb,  H,  F.  13'S;  Kembde.//.  /. 

combed,.  F  j^  ;  Kembd,/^.  E  379. 
Kempe,  at^'.  shaggy,  A  2134. 
Ken,  /.  kin,  kindred,  men,  M.  P.  iii.  438. 
Kene,  ad/,  keen,  eager,  M.  P.  xxL  6;  bold.  B 

M7v;  f  57 

Kene,  adv.  keenly,  M.  P.  xL  3;  rL  63. 
Kenne,  r  perceive,  discern,  H.  F.  498. 
Kepe,  t.  heed,  care,  note,  M.  P.  iiL  6, 128;  beed, 
E  105.3;   /<z<i<-n  -t</?,  uke  heed,  F  348.     See 
Keep. 
Kepe,  V.  keep,  preserve,  L.  384;  i  pr.  t.  care, 
L.  1032;  /  'fcjf'.^i^'j/as"'  ►'^ve.  r-  '^^: 
*^^;  .'V.  honor,  dignity,  B  3157. 
"Sstetee,  t  booorableniess,  honor,  E  422. 
iiestly,  adv.  honorably,  G  }4> 
Honge,  ».  to  hang,  C  793;  Hoogcn,  r.  hang,  be 

hung,  .\I.  P.  v.  458.     See  Heng  and  DOOB. 
Hony.  1.  hfiaty,  B  3537:  F  614. 
Hoodies,  adj.  without  a  hood,  M    P,  iiL  102S. 
Hook,  r.  sickle.  Bo.  III.  m.  L  4. 
Hool,   adj.    whole,  restored   to  health.  L  2468; 
whole,  all,  entire,  M.  P.  iiL  5J4;   well,  F  161 ; 
whole,  perfect,  G  iii,  117. 
Hool,  adj.  whfAXy,  M.  P.  iiL  991. 
HooUy,  adv.  wh<.,lty.  M.  P.  iiL  15. 
HoolneSSe,  *   integrity.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  220. 
Hoom,  adv.  home,  L.  1^.19;  homewards,  B  3543. 
Hoomlinesce,  t.  homeliness,  domesticity,  £  429. 


r.LOSSARIAI,   INDFA, 


833 


Kcsse,  V.   lo  kiss,  F.  1057;   Kcstc,  //.  .r.  kisficci, 

!■  3c;o;   Kistc,  K  679. 
Kcvere,  71.  recover,  T.  i.  917;   Kcvcrcd,  //.  cov- 
ered, H.  V.  275,  352. 
Keye,  s.  key,  M.   V.   vii.  323;  key,  in  /•lace  0/ 

ni.Uler,  H...  III.  p    xii.  88. 
Kid,  /'/   kriiiwii,  M    I',  ix    46;  made  known,  L. 

i'<28;    Kiddc,  //.   s.   showed,  T.   i.   208.     Sec 

Kythc. 
Kimelin,  j.  brewing-tub,  A  3548. 
Kin,  s.  kindred,  race,  G  829;  som  kin,  of  some 

kind,  li  1 137. 
Kinnes,  ,r.  ^vh.  kind's;    alles  kinnes,  of  every 

kind,  II.  K.  1530. 
Kinrcde,  s.  birth,  family,  L.  2094. 
KirtelS,  /'/.  kirtles,  M.  P.  v.  235. 
Kiste,//.  f.  kissed,  I..  2208;   in  f>hy.  been  they 

kist      tbey  have  kissed  each  other,  15  1074. 
Kitte,  //.  s.  cut,  H  600,  1761. 
Knakkes,  a.  />l.  knick-knacks,  contemptible  tri. 

Acs,  M.  P.  iii,  1033. 
Knarre,  f.  a  knotted,  thick-set  fellow,  A  549. 
Knarry,  adj.  gnarled,  A  1977. 
Knave,  t.  V>oy,  «crv.-int-lad,  I!  474;  boy,  male,  V. 

444;     kninie   chilli,    man-child,   boy,   E    612; 

Knaves,  //.  boys,  lads,  15  3087;  Knave,  as  adj. 

male,  I!  722. 
Knette,  v.  knit,  join,  M.  P.  iv.  183;   Knet,  //. 

knitted,  fixed,  M.  P.  v.  628;    Knit,  joined   in 

love,    M.    P.  iv.    50;   //.    knit,    15   3224.     Sec 

Knitte. 
Knettinge,  s.  chain,  I?o.  V.  p.  i.  43. 
Knewe,  //   s.  subj.  knew;  but  she  the  bet  him 

knewe,  unless  she  coidd  know  him  better,  L. 

9a,i\   Knowe,  //.    known,    K  215;   Knowcn,  3 

pr.  pi.  ye  know,  B  128;   Knewe,  //,  s.  subj. 

might  know,  M.  P.  iii.  1133;   were  lo  know  it, 

M.  P.  iv.  204;  //.  may  have  known,  M.   P.  ii. 

31 ;   Knowestow,  knowest  thou,  I'  367. 
Knitte,  ;f<'r.  to  knit,  I  47;   Knitlcst  thee,  2pr.s. 
•n.    knittest   thyself,  joincst   thyself,   art   in 

-./fi'jnction,  15  307.     .See  Knette. 
'"""     '  '"ei,  pi.  connections.  Ho.  V.  m.  iii.  20. 

"^n^'-/''   '■  ^""^^'"^'  '-'3721;   Knokkeden, 

t.iMc,    l^,   knocked  for  admission,  M.  P.  iv. 

Sf.:  Cal 

Hulstred,/  ,  />.  1  ..,    T>    ,,^„       ,. 

Humanitee,'.j;'  '•■t.'Sttl  I,  r.  92.    '  -■■•■ 
Humblesse,  s    humility,  meekness,  M.  P.  i.  to8. 
Humbling,  s.  low  growl  (lit.  slight  humming', 

II.  I'*.  1039. 
Hunte,  J.  hunter,  M.  P.  iii.  345. 
Huntcresse,  s./ew.  huntress,  H.  F.  229. 
Hurlest,2/r.  s.  dost  hurl,  dost  whirl,  15  297. 
Hurtlen,  pr.  pi.  dash  together,  1,.  638, 
Husht,  //.  hushed,  I,.  2682. 
Hust,  //.  hushed,  T.  iii.  1^X14. 
Hyde,  T.  hide,  i.e.  lie  concealed,  F   I4ti   Hyd,  2 

imp.  s.  hide,  L.  2655.     See  Hed. 


Knowleching,  .t.   knowing,  knowledge,  f«  1432; 

Kiiowclecliiiigij,  cognition,  I'o.  V.  p.  v.  3. 
Konning,  j.  cunning,  skill,  F  251. 
Kukkow!   int.  cuckoo!   M.  P.  v.  499. 
Kunningc,  .t,  skill,  M.  P.  v.  513. 

Kyked,//.  s.  peeped,  A  3445, 

Kynd,  s.  nature,  natural  disposition,  M.  P.  vii. 
149;  Kynde,  nature,  M.  P.  iii.  16;  the  natural 
world,  n,  F.  584;  Kyndc,  r/rt/.  nature,  M.  P 
iv.  282;  kind,  species,  M.  P.  v.  174;  natural 
disposition.  II.  F.  43;  natural  ordinance,  M.  P. 
iii.  494;   Kyndes,  //.  sorts,  H.  F.  204. 

Kyndly,  adj.  natural,  H.  F.  730;  Kyiidely,  M. 
P.  iii.  761;   Kyndelichc,  H.  F.  829. 

Kyndly,  adv.  in  accordance  with  what  is  nat- 
ural, naturally,  M.  P.  ii.  71;  Kyndcly,  by 
nature,  M.  P.  iii.  778. 

Kyte,  .V.  kite  (bird),  M.  P.  v.  349;   F  624. 

Kythe,  v.  make  known,  declare  to  be,  M.  P.  vii. 
228;  make  known,  show  plainly,  1,  912;  Ky- 
then,  7).  show,  M.  P.  x.  63;  Kythcth,  imp.  pi. 
display,  M.  P.  iv.  298;  Kythe,  pr.  .5.  subj. 
may  show,  H  636;  Kythed,  //.  shown,  G 
1054.     See  Kid. 


L. 

La^,  s.  lace,  band,  O  574,    Sec  Las. 

Labbe,  s.  tell-tale,  blabber,  T.  iii.  300. 

Labbing,  prc.<i.  part,  blabbing,  b:i!jblinigt  K  2428. 

Label,  t.  a  kind  of  ruler,  As   i.  22,  i.  ""■^^' 

Labour,  .t.  endeavor,  1!  381. 

Lacche,  s.  snare,  K.  1624. 

Lace,  .t.  net,   R.  2792;  snare,  entanglement,  M. 

P.  xviii.  50.  '• 

Lacerte,  .t.  muscle,  A  2753. 

Lache,  adj.  lazy,  dull,  l!o.  IV.  p.  iii.  i'..  '• 

,      .  ,.  ,  •"■  920;  o,    . 

Lacnesse,  s.  negligence,  I  720.  _  f  .'  ' 

Ladde,  //.  s.  led,  M.  P.  iii.  365;  brou'^ *''""j° 

vii.  39;    carried,  L.   114;   conducted.'. 

Lad,//,  led,  L.  1108;  carried,  L.  74.  ^'''      "'.'•  5'' 
Lady,    .s.   gen.    of  (my)    lady,  M.    P.   , 

l.adyes,  //.  P>  254.  ■*' 

Laftf,  pt.  .t.  left,  L.  1332;  ceased,  ,      \_-^^0tKP^ 

ten,  //.   i>l    \-'-  t.     ir,8;    l.-rC>/C   L.    1260; 
T  ,f,  ■><=.■••  Jewry,  Jtw.s    <|ll 

Ifenotum.  s.  an  unknown  thin  ,^,^^^^  ^,j^ 

I-halowed,  //.  view-hallooeo  .     ,     ^ 

P    iii    379  .'',048. 

\V.J'rnn.  1,  A  3867. 
II  hayl,  ill  luck  to  you,  A  4089. 
like,  iidj.  same,  M.  P.  iv.  66;  y.  433. 
Imped,//,  grafted,  R.  5137. 
Impcrie,  s.  government,  rank,  I?o.  II.  p.  vi.  14. 
Impertinent,  adj.  not  pertinent,  irrelevant.  F.  54. 
Impcs,  !    //  grafts,  shoots,  saplings,  R    6293. 
Impctren,  pr.  pi.  impetratc,  ask  for,  l!o.  V.  p. 

iii.  248. 


834 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Langour,  s.   languishmcnt,    slow   starvation,   C 

3597- 
Lapidaire,  a  treatise  on  precious  stones,  H.  F. 

1352. 
Lappe,  J.  lap,  fold  of  the  dress,  F  441 ;  skirt  or 
lappet   of   a   garment,   G    12;     a  wrapper,   E 

585. 
Lappeth,  />r.  s.  enfolds,  embraces,  M.  P.  iv.  76. 

(For  wlappeth.) 
Large,  «<//'.  liberal,  free,  M.  P.  iii.  893;  at  his 

large,  free  to  move,  H.  F.  745. 
Large,  adv.  liberally,  M.  P.  i.  174. 
Largesse,  i.  liberality,  generosity  of  heart,  M. 
P.  vii.  42;  liberal  bestower,  M.  P.  i.  13;  Larges, 
largesse,  H.  F.  1309. 
Las,  J.  snare,  entanglement  (lit.  lace),  L.  600. 
Lasse,  adv.  less,   M.   P.   iii.  927;    adj.  less,  C 
602;  adj.  pi.  smaller,  of  less  rank;  lasse  and 
more,  smaller  and  greater,  i.e.  all,  E  67;  Las, 
M.  P.  iii.  675. 
Last,  .J.  //.  lasts,  i.e.  burdens,  loads,  B  1628. 
Laste,  V.   endure,   M.   P.  iv.   226;  Last,  pr.  s. 
lasteth,  M.  P.  v.  49;   Laste,//.  i.  lasted  {the 
sivogh    me   laste,  my  swoon    lasted),  M.    P. 
ii.  16;   Laste,//,  .?,  delayed,  L.  791. 
Laste;  at  the  laste,  at  last,  M.  P.  iii.  364. 
Lat,  imp.  s.  let,  M.  P.  i.  79;   lat  be,  give  up,  H. 
F.  992;   Lat,  \  pr.  s.  let,  L.  1210;  lat  goon,  let 
go,  let  slip  (the  dogs),  L.  1213;  lat'take,  let  us 
take,  G  1254. 
.Ji,->t<i,-rt(/7^  Tate;  bet  than  never  is  late,  G  1410. 
^"'i^athe,  s.  barn,  H.  F.  2140. 
Latis,  s.  lattice,  T.  ii.  615. 
Latitude,  s.  latitude  (in  an  astronomical  sense), 

B13. 
L«ton,  i.  latten,  or  latoun,  a  mi.\ed  metal,  closely 
■a„-itr.^'  J'^J^'ing  brass,  B  2067. 

^      adj.  jo   a  kind  of  brass,  C  350. 
jjide^^e,  jovi.-praise,  H.  F.  1575. 
J- -.niusemen/.  fling  themselves  about,  rear,  H.  F. 
»•  jollity,    n: 

|i  lolyte,  M,ay,  J.  a  kind  of  lance,  B  1942. 
irl\'  2^^'-  \  s.  a.  grassy  clearing  (called  dale  in  1. 
,  Hierdes,  s.  p,F-  ^-  302. 
£ight,  pr.  s.  is'tUH.  F.  1107. 
inith    passive  sense,  'L.  417;    HigTfi't'e,  p}^^^'>  " 
w.is  called,  M.  P.  iii.  63;   Highten,  pr.  pi.  are 
called,  L.  423;   Highte,  2  pt.  pi.  promised,  E 
496. 
Highte,  s.  height,  B  12. 
Highteth,  pr.  s.  adorns,  gladdens.  Bo.  L  m.  ii. 

28. 
Hild,  pt.  s.  bent,  inclined,  M.  P.  iii.  393. 
Him  selven,  ace.  himself,  M.  P.  iv.  98. 
Hindreste,  hindmost,  A  622. 
Hipes,  pi.  hips,  A  472. 

Hir,  pro7t.   pass,  their,   L.   753;   B  112;  her,  B 
65,  164. 


Lazar,  s.  leper,  A  242. 

Leche,  J.  physician,  R.  2944;  leech,  healer,  M. 
P.  i.  134. 

Lecher,  s.  healer.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  260. 

Lecherous  folk,  carnal  sinners,  answering  to 
Dante's  '  i  peccator  carnali,'  M.  P.  v.  79. 

Lede,  V.  lead,  take,  L.  2021;  to  govern,  B  434; 
pr.  s.  siibj.  may  bring,  B  357.     See  Ladde. 

Leden,  adj.  leaden,  G  728. 

Ledene,  .?.  {dat.)  language,  talk,  F  435. 

Leed,  s.  lead  (metal),  H.  F.  739;  Lede,  dat.  H. 
F.  1431;  Leed,  i.  lead,  G  406;  leaden  vessel, 
A  202. 

Leef,  adj.  dear,  M.  P.  iii.  8;  pleasant;  that  lee/ 
me  luere,  which  I  should  like,  H.  F.  1999;  as 
s.  what  is  pleasant;  jbr  leef  ne  looth,  for  weal 
nor  for  woe,  L.  1639;  adj.  as  s.  dear,  love, 
lover,  L.  880,  1260,  1654;  Leef,  adj.  dear,  pre- 
cious, G  1467 ;  yov)  so  leef,  so  dear  to  you,  so 
desired  by  you,  C  760.     See  Leve. 

Leef,  adv.  dear;  Lever,  comp.  dearer,  liefer,  F 

572- 

Leef,  imp.  leave,  T.  iv.  896. 

Leef,  J.  a  leaf,  E  1211. 

Leefful,  adj.  lawful,  I  41. 

Leefsel,  .f.  bower,  I  411. 

Leek,  s.  leek,  H.  F.  1708;  leek,  i.e.  thing  of 
small  value,  G  795. 

Leep,  pt.  s.  leapt,  L.  2709. 

Lees,  adj.  false,  R.  8. 

Lees,  i'.  lying,  lie,  untruth,  L.  1022;  Lees,  //. 
lies,  H.  F.  1464. 

Lees,  J.  leash,  snare,  M.  P.  vii.  233;  leash,  G  19. 

Lees,  pt.  s.  lost,  H.  F.  1414.    See  Lese. 

Leet,  pt.  s.  let,  allowed,  H.  F.  243  ;  leet  the 
cors  embaume,  (she)  had  the  body  embalmed, 
L.  676;  let,  caused  (to  be),  B  959;  imp.  s.  let, 
C  731 ;  pt.  s.  let,  E  82;  caused,  as  in  leet  don 
cryen,  caused  to  be  proclaimed,  F  45;  leet 
make,  caused  to  be  made,  B  3349 ;  leet  binde, 
caused  to  be  bound,  B  1810.     See  Lat,  Lft'e, 

Lefe,  adj.  fern.  voc.  uear,  H.  F.  1827.       '^68: 

Lefte,  pt.  s.  delayed,  R.  4093;   i  pt.  s. 
F670. 

Leggen,  v.  relieve,  R.  5016. 

Leke,  ..leek,  R.  4830.  _^,^„^    _  y^^^^^  ^ 

hulTg,  M.  P.  V.  458.     See  Heng  and  Doon. 
Hony.  s.  honey,  B  3537;  F  614. 
Hoodies,  adj.  without  a  hood,  M.  P.  iii.  1028. 
Hook,  s.  sickle.  Bo.  III.  m.  i.  4. 
Hool,   adj.    whole,  restored    to  health,  L  2468; 

whole,  all,  entire,  M.  P.  iii.  554;   well,  V  161; 

whole,  perfect,  G  iii,   117. 
Hool,  adj.  wholly,  M.  P.  iii.  991.  \ 

Hoolly,  adv.  wholly.  M.  P.  iii.  15. 
Hoolnesse,  j.  integrity.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  220. 
Hoom,  ad^i.  home,  L.  1619;  homewards,  B  3548. 
Hoomlinesse,  s.  homeliness,  domesticity,  E  429. 


i  422. 


GLOSSARIAT,   TXDEX. 


S35 


Lente,  s.  Lent,  E  12. 
Leonesse  ,  j.  lioness,  L.  805. 

LeOS,  f .  //.  people,  G  103,  106. 

Leoun,  s.  lion,  I'.  475:  G  178. 

Lepand,  />r.  pt.  leaping,  R.  1928. 

Lepardes,  j.  //.  leopards,  B  3451. 

'Le-pe,/>r.  />L  leap,  G  915. 

Lere,  j.  flesh,  skin,  1j  2047. 

Lere,  7'.  (i)  teach,  H.  Y.  764;  (2)  learn,  H.  F. 
1997;  Lere,  z'.  learn,  B  1702;  />r.  pi.  learn,  F 
104;  ger.  to  learn,  B  181;  pr.  s.  sufi/.  may 
learn.  G  607:  Lered, //.  learned,  L.  1153. 

Lered,  m//.  learned,  M    P.  v.  46. 

Lerne,  ger.  to  teach,  G  844;  Lerned  of,  taught 
by,  G  74S. 

Lerned,//.  ^.r  «<//.  learned,  P>  1168. 

Lerninge,  s.  instruction,  G  184. 

Lese,  7'.  lose,  M.  p.  V.  402;  /I'se  >«(?,  lose  myself, 
be  lost,  M.  P.  V.  147:  Leseth,  pr.  s.  loses,  M. 
P.  iii.  33;  Lorn,//,  lost,  T.  i.  373. 

Lese,  s.  pasture,  H.  F.  1768. 

Lesing,  s.  lie,  H.  F.  2089;  Lesinge,  lying,  H.  F. 
154;  Lesinges,  //.  lies,  H.  F.  676;  lying  re- 
ports, H.  F.  2123. 

Lesinge,  .r.  losing,  loss;  Ji^r  lesinge,  for  fear  of 
losing,  B  3750. 

LeSSOUn,  j.  lesson,  !\L  P.  iv.  33. 

Lest,  s.  pleasure,  M.  P.  iii.  908;  inclination, 
H.  F.  287;  desire,  E  619.     See  Lust. 

Lest,  pr.  s.  impers.;  thee  lest,  it  pleases  thee, 
M.  P.  V.  114;  Leste.  pt.  s.  sul<j.  might  please, 
H.  F.  282;  her  leste,  it  should  please  her, 
M.  P.  V.  551;  Leste, /r.  .j.  subj.  impers.  it 
may  please,  L.  1338;  as  yow  leste,  as  it  may 
please  you,  L.  449. 

Leste,  adj.  superl.  as  s.  least,  the  least  one, 
M.  P.  iii.  283;  a!  the  leste,  at  least,  M.  P.  iv. 
19,  24;  at  the  leste  ■7ueye,  at  any  rate;  atte 
leste,  at  the  least,  at  least,  B  38. 

Let,  pr.  s.  prevervis.  Bo.  IIL  p.  x.  181 ;  pt.  s. 
cau.sed,  permif^ed,  B  373.     Sec  Lat. 
TiioW,  ijflf.  Hue,  quit,  M.  P.  i.  72;  omit,  depart 

Howve,  .r.  C^.  V.  391 ;  Lete  of,  ger.  to  leave  olT, 
calle,'  T.,iii.  52;  Let,  pr.  s.  lets  go,  repels,  M. 
SceCallft;   Leten   (goon),//.  let.  (go),  H.  F. 

Hulstred, /;t,  pt.  /::»». iised,  L.   2624;    let   calle. 

Humanitee.b? -T'inesi,  .:-92.    - -..- 
Humblesse,  i.  humility,  meekness,  M.  P.  i.  108. 
Humbling,  s.  low  growl  (lit.  slight  humming*, 

H.  F.  1039. 
Hunte.J.  hunter,  M.  P.  iii-  345- 
Hunteresse,  s./em.  huntress,  H.  F.  229. 
Hurlest,  -2  pr.  s.  dost  hurl,  dost  whirl,  B  297. 
Hurtlen,  pr.  pi.  dash  together,  L.  638. 
Husht,  //.  hushed,  L.  2682. 
Hust.  //.  husheil,  T.  iii.  1094. 
Hyde,  v.  hide,  i.e.  lie  concealed,  F  141;  Hyd,  2 

ii/ip.  s.  hide,  L.  2655.     See  Hed. 


Lette,  s.  let,  impediment,  hindrance,  delay,  E 
300;  hindrance,  delay,  T.  iii.  235. 

Lette-game,  s.  spoil-sport,  T.  iii.  527. 

Letterure,  s.  literature,  B  3686;  literature,  book- 
lore,  C;  846. 

Lettres,  j-.  //.  letters,  B  736. 

Letuarie,  s.  electuary,  C  307;  electuary,  remedy, 
T.  V.  741. 

Leve,  r>.  believe,  RL  P.  v.  496;  ger.  to  be  be- 
lieved, H.  F.  70S;  Leveth,  imp.  pi.  believe, 
^L  P.  vi.  88;   Lcveslow,  believest  thou,  G  212. 

Leve,  7'.  leave,  let  go,  RL  P.  iii.  11 11;  go  away, 
M.  P.  V.  153;  I  pr.  s.  leave,  M.  P.  ii.  50; 
Leveth,  imp.  pi.  leave,  M.  P.  vi.  118;  Leve, 
V.  to  leave,  give  up,  E  250;  ger.  to  forsake,  G 
287. 

Leve,  ger.  to  allow,  permit,  L.  2280;  pr.  s.  siihj. 
grant,  L.  2083;  Leve,  3  iinp.  s.  (God)  grant, 
B.  1873. 

Leve,  jr.  leave,  AL  P.  iv.  9;  permission,  T.  iii. 
622. 

Leve,  adj.  voc.  dear,  H.  F.  816;  beloved,  G 
257;   Leve,  //.  dear,  valued,  F  341.     Sec  Leef. 

Leveful,  adj.  permissible,  praiseworthy,  allow- 
able, G  5. 

Lever,   adj.    comp.   dearer,   L.    igi;   adT.  cntnp. 

rather,    M.    P.   xvii.    13;     Lever,   adj.    co»ip. 

'  liefer,  dearer,  more  desirable,  B  3628;  rather; 

vte  were  lever,  it  would  be  dearer  to  me,  I 

had  rather,  C  615. 

LeveseL  •'   leafy  bower,^A  4061.  '«-__j-r— ?•.  ' 

Levest,  sup.  dearest,  most  desirable,  H.  F.  87;    •?• 

Leveth,  pr.  s.  remains,  M.  P.  iii.  701. 

Lewed,  adj.  ignorant,  M.  P.  v.  46;   L.  4t5. 

Lewedly,  adv.  ignorantly,  B  47;  ignorantly,  ill-"- 
G  430;   H  59.  -  ' 

Lewednesse,   .?.    ignorance,  ignorant.  r, 

M.  P.  X.  68.     See  LeVi^ed.  "'    92°:  O',  ,- 

Ley,//.  J.  lied,  T.  ii.  1077.  =  space  of  • 

Leye,  v.  lay,  ^L  P.  iv.  205;   Leyd*"-  531   I 

RL  P.    iii.    394;     Leyd,  //.   fixed    ^yv'      vn.  8i". 

1146;    set,  M.   P.   iii.   1036;    Ley.  'V' 

assert,  T.   iii.    1658;    Leyd,  //.   k"3' 

■was  leyd,  I   had  laid  myself  ■'^'''••^      ^^^.mc 

Lcye,  V.  to  lay  a  wa^rt<'"^tt,  //.   L.    1260; 
:.,!,-.  jv."^,jcWs'qtr      '  '^ 

Ignotum.  s.  an  unknown  thin  ^^  ^.^ 

Lhalowed,  //.  view-hallooeu  ^"^  ,     __ 

P.  iii    379  -  -^8 

Ik,/r-('«.  1,  A  3867- 
n  hayL  ill-luck  to  you,  A  4089. 
like,  adj.  same,  ^L  P.  iv.  66;  v.  433. 
Imped,//,  grafted,  R.  5137. 
Imperie,  i.  government,  rank,  Bo.  H.  p.  vi.  14. 
Impertinent,  adj.  not  pertinent,  irrelevant.  £54. 
Impes,  s.  pi.  grafts,  shoots,  saplings,  R.  6293. 
Impetrcn,  pr.  pi.  impctrate,  ask  for.  Bo.  V.  p. 

iii.  248. 


836 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Licour,  s.  juice,  C  452. 

Lief,  at/j.  dear,  cherished,  E  479 ;  goode  lief  my 

111}'/,  my  dear  good  wife,  B  3084.     See  Lecf. 
Lige,  adj.  liege;  lige  man,  vassal,  L.  379. 
Ligeaunce,  s.  allegiance,  B  895. 
Liggen,  V.  to  lie,  lie  down,  B  2101. 
Light,  adj.  easy,  M.  P.  v.  554. 
Light,  //.  lighted,  L.  2506. 
Lighte,  V.  descend,  H.  F.  508;  pr.  pi.  alight,  L. 

1713- 
Lighted,//,  lighted  up,  brightened,  M.  P.  i.  74. 
Lighter,  adv.  coiiip.  more  easily,  more  readily: 
the  lighter  merciable,  more  readily  merciful 
on  that  account,  L.  410. 
Lightly,  adv.  readily,  M.  P.  iv.  205. 
Ligne  aloes,  j.  aloes-wood,  T.  iv.  1137. 
Likerous,   adj.    lecherous,  M.    P.  ix,   57;    very 
vile,    Bo.   III.  p.   iv.  34;    gluttonous,  dainty, 
greedy,  C  540. 
Lilting-horne,  s.  horn  to  be  played  for  a  lilt,  H. 

F.  1223. 
Limitour,  s.  licensed  beggar,  A  209. 
Linage,  s.  lineage,  birth,  descent,  L.  1820;  con- 
sanguinity, L.  2602;  lineage,  kindred,  B  999. 
Lind,  s.  lime-tree,  A  2922. 
Linde,  s.  linden-tree,  E  1211. 
Lipsed,  pt.  s.  lisped,  A  264. 
Lisse,  V.  soothe,  M.  P.  vi.  6;  pr.  s.  subj.  may 

alleviate,  M.  P.  iii.  210. 
Lisse,  J.  c^sation,  assuaging,  H.  F.   220;  alle- 
„     <_~.'U'C';.'^  solace,  M.  P.  iii.  1040. 
>        ist,  s.  ear,  D  634. 

yist,  pr.  s.  it  pleases,  M.  P.  i.  172;  is  pleased, 

likes  to,  M.  P.  xvi.  35;   -me  list  right  evel,  I 

was  in  no  mind  to,  M.  P.  iii.  239;  you  list,  it 

f.V*""  es   you,    M.    P.    x.    77;     Listeth,  pr.    s. 

HalW  ^'  ^."'i^  pleased,  H.   F.  511;   Listen,  pr.  pi. 

Iji  "'-{  -"S,  B  2234;  after  thise  olde  auctonrs 

jjidP      '  ^'^^^rete,  as  these  old  authors  choose  to 

^..auisemer,  j^^.     Liste,  pt.    s.   liked,   L.    1407; 

J  jollity,    IT   pleased,  L.  332;  her  liste,  it  pleased 

r      -h  '"'y^y.^'^ired,  M.  P.  iii.  878,  962;  him  liste, 

/r."2.^:/'lf.M.  P.  iv.92. 

,  Hierdes,  s.  ptJ^."\'  '«  ^"  Ustes,  by  means  of  his 
£ight,  pr.  s.  is"c;..*' 
7vith    passive  .?«. 'ri&er^pots,.'.- j€^-.  v.      - 
was  called,  M.  P  T.  v.  409. 
called,  L.  421 :  -'Ork,  R.  579. 
496.     •"■  ^^-  cheeks,  hence  heads,  H.  F.   1786; 
V-  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  121. 

-ye,  J.  joy.     See  loie. 
loyne,  v.  enjoin,  R.  2355. 
loyned,  //.  j-.  joined,  let  (his  cars)  touch  one 

another,  M.  P.  iii,  393. 
loynture,  s.  union.  Bo.  II.  p.  V.  56. 
Irous,  adj.  passionate,  D  2086. 
Isse,  w.  issue,  R.  1992;  Issest,  2 /r.  j.  issuest, 
Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  186. 


Lodesmen,//.  pilots,  L.  1488. 

Lode-sterre,  s.  lodestar,  A  2059. 

Lofte,  s.  dat.  air;  on  lo/te,  in  the  air,  H.  F. 
1727;   B  277. 

Logge,  s.  a  lodging,  B  4043. 

Loigne,  s.  tether,  R.  3882. 

Lokeden, //.  //.  looked,  L.  1972;  Loked, /^j. 
looked,  E  340;  Lokeih,  imp.  pi.  look  ye,  be- 
hold, G  1329;    search  ye,  C  578. 

Loken,//.  locked,  enclosed,  B  4065. 

Loking,  J.  manner  of  looking,  gaze,  M.  P.  iii. 
870;  examining,  M.  P.  v.  no;  aspect  (astro- 
logical), M.  P.  iv.  51;   glance,  look,  L.  240. 

Lokkes,  locks  of  hair,  A  81. 

Loller,  s.  a  loller,  a  lollard,  B  1173. 

Lomb,  s.  lamb,  L.  1798. 

Lond,  .r.  land;  country,  B  3548;  Londe,  land,  B 
522. 

Lone,  s.  loan,  D  1861. 

Long,  prep.;  the  phrase  wher-on  .  .  .  long= 
long  on  wher,  along  of  what,  G  930;  long  on, 
along  of,  because  of,  G  922. 

Longe,  adv.  long,  M.  P.  iv.  172;  long,  a  long 
while,  B  1626,  3300. 

Longe,//.  adj.  long,  high,  M.  P.  v.  230. 

Longes,  s.  pi.  lungs,  A  2752. 

Longeth,/r.  s.  belongs,  M.  P.  xiv.  .,^ei  T'sai.M's^ 
belong,  L.  151;  Longing,  p res.  p.  l,mo;  aqj  oj'ujnja 
^-  '963-  <q  5,Bq  aqj  'ajj, 

Longing  for,  i.e.  belonging  to,  suitable  for,  'jjoM-uoom 

Loos,  s.  praise,  H.  F.  1621;  G  1368. 

Loos,  adj.  loose,  M.  P.  v.  570.  ,  .„„  „  1 

Looth,  rt^'.  loath,  displeasing;  tne  were  looth,moos  '' 
it  would  be  displeasing  to  me,  B  gi. 

Loppe,  .r.  spider.  As.  i.  19,  3. 

Loppe-webbe,  .r.  spider's  web.  As.  i.  21,  3. 

Lordeth,/>-.  s.  rules  over,  M.  P.  iv.  166. 

Lordings,  .r.  pi.  sirs,  B  573;  C  329;  I  15. 

Lore,  .r.  teaching,  L.  2450;  study,  G  842;  lore, 
learning,  experience,  knowledge,  B  4,  1168;   E 

87, 788.  -te. 

Lore,  //.  lost.  M  ^"..■-;  -  -•  t  -  -tf  ^r  ■  "^h'."" 

Loren,.^'-  -s-   kept,   E  223;  //.  //.   regarr^I^Sj; 

G.^'-Q,  B  269;   Kepeth,  imp.  pi.  keep  y^^^^i 
L(764;  pr.  s.  keeps,  E  1133;    observes,  F  '^  •  "^' 
'  Keping,  pres.  part,  keeping,  tending,  F  f  \ 

Kepen,  i  pr.  pi.  care,  H.  F.  1695;   Kept,'j§R' 

E  1098. 
Kerchief,  s.  kerchief,  finely  woven  loose  cove»r 

ing  to  throw  over  one,  M.  P.  v.  272;   Ken 

s.  kerchief,  L.  2202;   B  837. 
Kernels,  s.  pi.  R.  4195. 
Kerve,  ger.  to  cut,  M.  P.  v.  217;  v.  to 

cut,  F  158;   Karf,  pt.  s.  carved,  M.  P. 

Kerveth,  pr.    s.    carves,  cuts,  L.    233. 

Corve. 
Kerver,  s.  carver,  A  1899. 
Kervings,  s.  pi.  carvings,  H.  F.  1302. 


P 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


837 


Lother,  aiij.  coinp.  more  hateful,  L.  191. 

Lotinge, //"«. /rtr/.  lurking,  G  186. 

Loude,  adv.   loudly,   M.   P.   iii.  344:   def.  adj. 

loud,  F  268. 
Lough,//,  s.  laughed,  B  3740. 
Louke,  i.  fellow  rascal,  A  4415. 
Loured,//,  frowned,  H.  F.  409. 
Lous,  adj.  loose,  free,  H.  F.  1286.     See  Loos. 
Loute,  J',   bow,  bend,  H.   F.   1704;  bow,  T.  iii. 

683;   Louted,  pt.  s.  bow,  R.  1554;  Loute,  v.  to 

bow  down,  B  3352. 
Love-dayes,  //.  appointed  days  of  reconciliation, 

H.  F.  695. 
Loveden,  //.  //.  loved,  L.  1812;  Loven,  j^'''-  to 

love,  M.  P.  iv.  48;   I.ovede,/;.  j.  loved,  E413; 

Loveth,  imp.  pi.  love  ye,  E  370. 
Love-drury,  s.  aft'ection,  B  2085. 
Lovere,  s.  a  lover,  F  546. 
Loves,  i.  pi.  loaves,  B  503. 
Lovyere,  i.  lover,  A  80. 
Lowe,  adv.  in  lowly  fashion,  L.  2046;  in  a  low 

voice,  F  216. 
Luce,  s.  pike,  A  350. 
Lucre,  .r.  lucre,  gain;  hicreofvilanyryy^Tmow^ 

lucre,  vile  gain,  B  1681;  profit,  G  1402. 

LufSOm,  adj.  lovable,  T   v.  465. 

Lulleth,/n  .r.  lul'-  ",?""^es,  B  839. 

.  ,        ..cermeaiate, .  ,        .,  _, 

Luna,  s.  the  .  />  name  for  silver,  G 


■;g"V 
.cermediate, 
III.  m.  Lx.  31; 
V.  806. 


G  800. 

which  a  hawk 


1440. 
Lunari        ,  ^         c 

I  ure    ''•  ^'  ■bemoan,  K.  2596. 

'i  pr.   s.    mean,  L.    558;    M.     ,    ,  „ 

\v;,'       '  ,,  pr  s  hand,  H 

..'   -^  It,  L.    309.     Menestow,  meaner  ' 

LuSv        .  •,  j^y,  delight,   M.   V.   1.   i>^, 

desire,  M  P.  iii.  273:  will,  M.  P.  iv.  63; 
Luste,  dai.  pleasure,  M.  P.  v.  15. 

Lusteth,  pr.  s.  ivipers.  pleases,  L.  996;  Lust, 
pr.  s.  iiiipers.  it  pleases,  E  322;  Luste,  //.  s. 
impers.  it  pleased,  M.  P.  iii.  1019;  pers.  was 
pleased,  desired,  G  1344.     See  List. 

Lustihede,  s.  cheerfulness,  M.  P.  iii.  27;  vigor, 

uoul>---?°-  . 

,^_  p.  5^  .  ""J-  comp.  more  joyous,  G  1345. 
■p    V.  15'  adv.  merrily,  gayly,  R.  1319. 
lQ3*''   ^''Se,  J.  pleasure,  A  1939. 
,-,,tV,  adj    cheerful,  glad,  pi"'— nt    M.  P.  iv. 

Knoppes,  .f.  //  buds,  R.  1675.  I 

Knotte,  i.  knot,  principal  point  of  a  story,  gist 

of  a  tale,  F  401,  407. 
Knotteles,  adj.  like  an  unknotted  string,  T.  v. 

Knowe,   s.  knee,   T.   ii.    1202;    Knowes,  //.  B 

1719. 
Knowing,  s.  knowledge,  M.  P.  in.  960. 
Knowinge,  adj.  conscious,  Bo.  III.  p   xi.  189; 

Knowinge  with  me,  i.e.  my  witnesses,  Bo.  I. 

p.  iv.  55- 

3" 


Lyk,  adj.  like,  M.  P.  iv.  237.     See  Liche. 

Lyke,  ger.  to  please,  H.  F.  860;  Lyked,  pt.  s. 
impers.  it  liked,  pleased,  M.  P.  vii.  109;  Lyk- 
eth  yow,  pr.  s.  impers.  it  pleases  you,  M.  P. 
V.  401 ;  Lyke,  v.  please,  T.  i.  431 ;  pr.  s. 
impers.  please,  L.  319;  thogh  thee  lyke  ttat, 
though  it  may  not  please  you,  L.  490;  Lyken, 
V.  to  please,  B  2128;  Lykelh,  pr.  s.  it  pleases, 
E  311;  us  lyktth  yow,  it  pleases  us  with 
respect  to  you,  E  106;  how  lyketh  thee  my 
ivy/,  how  does  it  please  you  with  respect  to  my 
wife,  E  1031;  Lykned,  //.  likened,  compared, 
B91. 

Lyking,  s.  pleasure,  liking,  delight,  B  3499. 

Lyklihede,  s.  likelihood,  probability,  B  1786. 

Lyklinesse,  j.  probability,  M.  p.  xxii.  15. 

Lykne,  i  pr.  s.  liken,  compare,  M.  P.  iii.  636. 

Lym,  s.  quicklime,  L.  649;   lime,  G  910. 

Lymaille,  j.  filings  of  any  metal,  G  1162; 
Lymail,  G  1164. 

Lymere,  hound  held  in  leash,  M.  P.  iii.  365. 

Lymrod,  s.  lime-rod,  lime-twig,  B  3574. 

Lytargye,  j-.  lethargy,  T.  i.  730. 

Lyte,  adj.  little,  M.  P.  v.  64;  as  s.  a  little,  M. 
P.  iii   249. 

Lyte,  adv.  little,  M.  P.  iii.  884;  in  a  small  de- 
gree, G  632,  699.     See  Lite. 

l(/yth,  pr.  s.  lieth,  lies,  M.  P.  iii.  181;  lyeth 
ther-to,  belongs  here,  is  needed,  M.  P.  iii. 
527. 

Lythe,  «(^'.  smooth,  easy,  R.  3762;    ^   c-^jr^'^ 
H.  F.  118.  f^.h,  pr.  s. 

Lyve,  dat.  life,  M.  P.  iii.  i?-"-  '"'^  ^r-  „ 
hU  life,   M.   P.  iii   -'/'•  ""  /)'-■''.  al've, , 
iii.   151,  J  „v^-  oay,  lifetime,  L.   1624;   l^-  l. 
dat.  from  Lyf,  whence  on  lyve,  during  1 
i  e.  alive,  F  423.  .^ 

LyveS,  .s.   gen.  of  my  life,  M.  P.  iii.  920;  o,    . 
present  worldes  lyves  space,  the  space  of  ■ 
life  in  the  present  world,  M.  P.  v.  53;   I 
s.   pi.  gen.  souls',  lives',  G  56;    Lyv       ^■^^   gj^ 
sing,  used  as  adv.  living,  E  903.  »-     '    -• 

Lyves,  adv.  living,  alive,  H.  F.  1063; 

Lyvinge,  s.  manner  of  life,  C  8jt-.o\.     ^—oaf- 
...,*-  ,  JH''  A*-   ^-    '2^' 

«e,  I  pt.  s.  I  left,  C  702'. 
iak,  ^.  lack,  defect,  M.  P.  iii    958:  blame,  dis- 
praise, L.  (A)  298;   want,  defect,  L.  1534- 
Lake,  s.  a  kind  of  fine  white  linen  cloth,  B  2048. 
Lakke,  s.  dat.  lack,  w.->nt,  loss,  M.  P.  v.  87. 
Lakked,  pt.  s.   wanted,  lacked;    him    lakked, 
there  lacked  to  him,  i.e.  he  lacked,  F  16;   I.ak- 
keth,  pr.  s.  lacks,  G  498;  Lakken,  v.  depre- 
ciate, T.  i.  189. 
Lambish,  adj.  gentle  as  lambs,  M.  P.  ix.  50. 
Lambren,  s.  pi  lambs,  R.  7013. 
Lampe,  s.  lamina,  thin  plate,  G  764. 


838 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Maille,  s.  mail,  ringed  armor,  E  1202. 

Maister,  i.  master,  B  1627,  3128. 

Maister-Strete,  ^.  main  street,  L.  1965. 

Maister-temple,  s.  chief  temple,  L.  1016. 

Maister-toun,  s.  capital,  L.  1591. 

Maister-tour,  i.  principal  tower,  F  226. 

MaistOW,  mayst  thou,  H.  F.  699. 

Maistres,  s.  pi.  masters,  B  141. 

Maistresse,  j.  mistress,  M.  p.  i.  109. 

Maistrye,  i.  specimen  of  skill,  H.  F.  1094;  mas- 
tery, victory,  B  3582;  governance,  control,  B 
3689;  Maistrie,  a  masterly  operation,  G  1060. 
See  Maystrye. 

Majestee,  s.;  his  real  majesiee,  his  royal  ma- 
jesty, i.e.  high  treason.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  183. 

Make,  s.  companion,  love,  mate,  M.  P.  iv  17, 
154;  match,  equal,  H.  F.  1172;  mate,  wife,  B 
700;   husband,  G  224. 

Make,  fr.  pi.  compose  poetry,  M.  P.  xviii.  82; 
I  pr.  s.  write,  L.  188;  Maked,  //.  j.  made,  B 
3318;  //.  B  1722;  Maad,  B  3607;  Makestow, 
i.e.  makest  thou,  B  371. 

Makelees,  adj.  matchless,  T.  i.  172. 

Making,  s.  poetry,  composition,  L.  413. 

Malapert,  adj.  impudent,  T.  iii.  87. 

Male,  J.  bag,  wallet,  C  920;  G  566. 

Maleflce,  s.  evil-doing,  I  341. 

Malgre,  prep,  in  spite  of,  M.  P.  iv.  220. 

Malisoun,  s.  curse,  G  1245. 

Malliable,  adj.  malleable,  such  as  can  be  worked 
V       -—J'       ''""'ammer,  G  1130. 

iSt,  s.  eai,  .  ,,,^jj^  jj    p   g22.     See  Molte. 
.ist,  pr.  s.  It  pic..,    ^   j^^ 
likes  to,  M.  P.  XVI.  35,      J  ^^^^^„j    ^„  _.  ,. 
was  m  no  mind  to,  M.  P.  111.     _^,  you  list,  it 
f^^'--  es   you,    M.    P.    x.    77;     Listeth,  pr.    s. 

HaUr  '^'  ^"-js  pleased,  H.  F.  511;  Listen,  pr.  pi. 
y^i  «'7  JL^_  g  2234;  after  thise  olde  aicctours 

jjidP        ^'^^^rete,  as  these  old  authors  choose  to 

^.  .niusemer  j^^.     Li.ste,  pt.    s.  liked,  L.   1407; 

J  jollity,    n  plea.sed,  L.  332:  /ter  liste,  it  pleased 
--H  lolyte,  Ka,red,  M.  P.  iii.  878,  962;  him  liste, 

/^■"-2.^^'•if.M.  P.  iy.92. 

■iii.~-j£s.  s  ii^^"^'<  in  his  lisies,  by  means  of  his 
Laurfe,  if  ..._-«I.  .^ 

Laureat,  adj.  KitiiFa.v:r)V^-rowneu  ... 

3886;  E31.  I 

Laurer,  s   laurel,  M.  P.  V.  182;  vii.  24. 
Laurer  crouned,//.  crowned  with  laurel,  M.  P. 

vii.  43. 
Laus,  adj.  loose,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  160. 
Laven,^i>r.  to  exhaust.  Bo.  IV.  p  vi.  15;  Laved, 

//.  drawn  up,  Bo.  III.  m.  xii.  28. 
Lavender,  i.  laundress,  L.  358. 
Lawe,  adj.  low.  R.  5046. 
Lay,  J.  song,  lay,  M.  P.  iii.  471 ;  B  1959. 
Lay,  s.  law,  L.  336;  religious  belief,  faith,  creed, 

B  572;  F  A 


Marchaunt,  j.  merchant,  B  132. 

Marcial,  adj.  martial,  T.  iv.  i66g. 

Mare,  adv.  comp.  more,  R.  2709. 

Mareys,  //.  marshes,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  46. 

Marie,    interj.    marry,    i.e.    by    St.   Mary,   G 

1062. 
Maried,  pt.  s.  trans,  he  caused  to  be  married,  E 

1130. 
Mark,  .s.  a  piece  of  money,  of  the  value  of  13  j. 

4  d.  in  England,  G  1026 ;  Mark,  pi.  i.e.  marks, 

C  390. 
Market-beter,  s.  bully  at  fairs,  A  3936. 
Markis,  s.  a  marquis,  E  64. 
Markisesse,  s.  a  marchioness,  E  394. 
Martyre,  s.  torment,  T.  iv.  818. 
Mary,  .j.  marrow,  C  542. 
Mary-bones,  s.  pi.  marrow-bones,  A  380. 
Mase,  J.  maze,  labyrinth,  L.  2014. 
Mased,  adj.  bewildered,  M.  P.  iii.  12;  stunned 

with  grief,  M.  P.  vii.  322. 
Masednesse,  s.  amaze,  E  1061. 
Maselyn,  .y.  a  kind  of  drinking-cup,  B  2042. 
Mast,   s.   mast,    i.e.    the    fruit    of   forest-trees, 

acorns,  and  beech-nuts,  M.  P.  ix.  7,  37. 
Masty,  adj.  fattened,  sluggish,  H.  F.  1777.    Lit. 

'  fattened  on  mast.' 
Mat,  adj.  dead,  L.    'igs,  M^  .■'.   jgaj^  defeated 

utterly,  B  935.       -ong'ng.  pfes.  }, 
Mate!  interj.  ch- 
Mate,  adj.  dep-  belongmg  to,  suitable  fo-   .  ^^, 

hausted,M-.HF.x62x;  G  1368. 

Matere,  .r.  •^°^^'  ^^-^^  ^-  57°-  Vme. 

M    P   v-^'  '°^''^>  displeasing;    me  were  ioot^^^ 

It  would  be  displeasing  to  me,  B  91.  r    ,u 

Loppe,  s.  spider.  As.  i.  19,  3.  A 

Loppe-webbe,  j-.  spider's  web.  As.  i.  21,  3.  j 
Lordeth,/>-.  s.  rsles  over,  M.  P.  iv.  i65.  ,1  t 
Lordings,  s.  pi.  sirs,  B  573;  C  329;  I  15.  y^. 
Lore,  s.  teaching,  L.  2450;   study,  G  842;   lore, 

learning,  experience,  knowledge,  B  4,  1168;   E 

87, 788.  'te.  n 

Lore,  //.  lost.  M  ■s""-o  -  -•  ■'•-  -  ■-^'  -r  ■  23'^  \ 

Loren,  .^'-  -f-   kept,   E  223;  pt.  pi.   regar(.l°2 

p-ucti,  B  269;   Kepeth,  imp.  pi.  k '^.^ 'g-va^ 
LC64;  pr.  s.  keeps,  E  1133;    observ 
'  Keping,  />*-es.  part,  keeping,  tendii 

K.-jiies,  s.  pi.  gleams,  flashes,  R.  53.^^. 

Lemman,  s.  lover;   lit.  dear  man,  B  917;  sweet- 
heart, B  3253. 

Lendes,  s.  pi  loins,  A  3237. 

Lane,  adj.  lean,  M.  P.  xi.  28;  B  4003. 

Lene,  i^^'r.  to  lend,  G  1024,  1037. 

Lenger,  adv.  comp.  longer,  M.  P.  ii.  95;  e7ier 

lenger  the  more,  the  longer,  the  more,  E  687;        ,^ 
F  404-  .-•■  Jti^'^ff 

Lengest,  adv.  sup.  longest,  M.  P.  v.  549.     ^^   ^^  \ 

Lengthe,  s.  length;   upon  lengthe,  after  a  Ic  V''.At*' 
run,  M.  P.  iii.  352.  '^  j'^ 


^ 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


839 


Mede,   s.   dat.    mead,    meadow,  M.   P.   v.    184, 

Medew,  L.  2IO. 
Mede,  j.  reward,  a  bribe,  B  3579. 
Medeleth,  /r.  s.  mingles,  L.  874. 
Medeling,  j-.  admixture.  Ho.  I.  p.  iv.  312. 
Medle,  V.  miiiglc,  H.  P'.  2102;   meddle,  take  part 
in,  O  1184:  dye.  Bo.   II.  m.  v.   11;   Mcdly,  7'. 
mingle,  mix.  Bo.   II.  m.  v.  8;   Medleth,  imp. 
pi.  meddle,  CJ  1424. 
Medlee,  adj.  of  mixed  stuff,  A  328. 
Meed,  i.  reward,  L.  1662. 
Meel,  s.  meal,  H  466. 
Meel-tyd,  i.  meal-time,  T.  ii.  1556. 
Meiny,  i.  crew,  L.  2201.    See  Meynee. 
Meke,  tiiij.  pt.  meek,  M.  P.  v.  341. 
Meked,  pt.  s.  meekened,  R.  3584. 
MelanCOliouS,  adj.  melancholy,  H.  F.  30. 
Melancolye.  s.  melancholy,  M.  P.  iii.  23. 
Melle,  .f.  mill,  M.  P.  ix.  6. 
Memorial,  adj.  which  serves  to  record  events, 

M.  P.  vii.  18. 
Memorie,  s.  memory,  M.  P.  vii.  14;  mention, 

remembrance,  B  3164. 
Men,  sing,  one,  people,  M.  P.  v.  22. 
Mendience,  j.  mendicancy,  R.  6657. 
MendinantS,  j.  //.  begging  friars,  D  1906. 
Mene,  adj.  pi.  intermediate,  M.  P.  vii.  286;  adj. 
middle.  Bo.  III.  m.  ix.  31;   middle,  of  middle 
size,  T.  v.  806. 
Menc/r.  .r.  bemoan,  R.  2596. 
Mene,    i  pr.    s.    mean,  L.    558;    Mente,  pt.   s. 
meant,  L.    309.     Menestow,  meanest  thou,  G 
309-  ^,  juy,  delight,   M.    P.   i.   100; 

Mene.,re/M.    P.    iii.    273;     will,   M.   P.    iv.   63; 

"'•  iiste,  dat.  pleasure,  M.  P.  v.  15. 

"^^'^  teth,  pr.  s.  ivtpers.  pleases,  L.  996;   Lust, 

M^'^r.  s.  inipers.  it  pleases,  E  322;   Luste,  pt.  s. 

^'' impi-rs.  it  pleased,  M.  P.  iii.  1019;  pers.  was 

pleased,  desired,  G  1344.      See  List. 

Lustihede,  j.  cheerfulness,  M.  P.  iii.  27;   vigor, 

L.  1530. 
Lustier,  adj.  coiiip.  more  joyous,  G  1345. 
Lustily,  adv.  merrily,  gayly,  R.  1319. 
Lustinesse,  j.  pleasure,  A  1939. 
Lusty,  adj    cheerful,  glad,  pleasant,  M.  P.  iy. 
iaj..L.?'to"7.P-.  J}.eWJV,Ji!Jb4"rLi'?eih, '.«//.  //. 
cease   from,    L.  411;    Lete,  v.   let,   B  3524;   i 
pr.  s.  I  leave,  B  96;  Lete,  v.  forsake,  B  325. 
Sec  Lat,  Leet. 
Lette,  f^er.    to  hinder,  H.   F.   1954;    v.    cease, 
M.   P.   iv.  186;  pt.  s.  stopped,  waited,  H.  F. 
2070;    Lettest,  2  pr.  s.  pieventest,  hinderest, 
stoppest,  L.  325;   Lette,//.  j.  tarried,  L.  2167; 
Lette,  7'.  to   hinder,  delay;   used  iittraus.  to 
cause  delay,  B    1117;    to   himler,  I!   2116;    to 
oppose,  stay,  B  3300;  pt.  s.  intrans.  delayed, 
£389. 


3204;  ivith  meschaiiticf,  vtiih  ill  luck  (to  him), 
H  II. 

Mescheef,^.  mischief,  harm,  L.  1655;  tribulation, 
trouble,  H  76;   Meschief,  misfortune,  B  3513. 

Mesel,  s.  leper,  I  624. 

Messagere,  s.  messenger,  M.  P.  iii.  133;  Mcssan- 
ger,  H.  F.  1568;  Messager,  B  6;  Messageres, 
//.  L.  1091. 

Messagerye,  the  sending  of  messages  (personi- 
fied), M.  P.  v.  228. 

Messe,  s.  mass,  B  1413. 

Meste,  adj.  supcrl.  most,  i.e.  highest  in  rank, 
most  considerable,  E  131. 

Mester,  s.  occupation,  A  1340. 

Mesurable,  adj.  moderate,  C  515;  F  362. 

Mesure,  i.  measure,  plan,  M.  P.  v.  305;  moder- 
ation, M.  P.  iii.  8S1 ;  by  mesure,  not  too  much, 
M.  P.  iii.  872;  07'er  mesure,  immeasurably, 
M.  P.  V.  300:  withoute  mesure,  beyond  mca.s- 
ure,  M.  P.  iii.  632. 

Met,  i.  measure,  I  799. 

Metamorphoseos,  gen.  s.  (the  book)  of  Meta- 
morphosis; it  should  be  pi.  Metamorphoseon, 

B93- 
Mete,  adj.  meet,  befitting,  M.  P.  iii.  316;  meet, 

fit,  L.  1043. 
Mete,  s.  equal,  M.  P.  iii.  486. 
Mete,  s.  meat,  L.  1108;  food,  meat,  F  173,  618. 
Mete,  V.  meet,  find,  M.  P.  v.  698;   Mette,  pt.  s. 

met,  M.  P.  V.  37;  Mettep    M.  pi.  H.  F.  227. 
Mete,  ger.  to    'reairrr^ftt^T'.  iii.^iSj    *"      -jt--«'- 
pr.  s.  am  dreaming,  M.  P.  iii^r  j^-^  /-J-^^'  ^^'  ^' 
dreams,_^M.  P.  v.jo4;_|^r  ^;/}j,,,^_  .^Y^yi^^ 
iii.   151 ;   ir,    -T  day,  lifetime,  L.   1624;   il_  y 
dat.  from  Lyf,  whence  on  lyve,  during  l' 
i.e.  alive,  F  423. 
Lyves,  s.  gen.  of  my  life,  M.  P.   iii.  920;  o 
present  worldes  lyves  space,  the  space  of  •  '  ' 
life  in  the  present  world,  M.  P.  v.  53;   I 

s.   pi.  gen.  souls',  lives',  G  56;    Lyv         ..    „ 
,  ,      ,.    .         T^  vii.  O' 

sing,  usea  as  adv.  livmg,  h.  903. 

Lyves,  adv.  living,  alive,  H.  F.  1063; 

Lyvinge,  s.  manner  of  life,  C  84iiO\. 

-,  .jei,  G  596;    I  //^ 

we  luy  out,  we  ^xpend,  G  783;   Leyden  fo 

//.  //.  brought  forward,  B  213. 
Leyser,  j.  leisure,  M.  P.  iii.  172. 
Leyt,  .r.  flame,  lightning,  I  839. 
Lia,  put  /or  Lat.  Lia,  i.e.  Leah  in  the  book 

Genesis,  G  96. 
Libardes,  s.  pi.  leopards,  R.  894. 
Libel,  .f.  bill  of  complaint,  D  1595. 
Licentiat,  one  licensed  by  the  Pope  to  hear  con 

fessions,  independently  of  the  local  ordinarle"; 

A  220. 
Liche,  adj  like,  I,    1529;    it  lich.e,  like  it   .'.  P.  i. 
Liche-wake,  i.  coipse-watch,  A  2958. 


S40 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


hence,  anything  soft,  especially  3  weak,  eflem- 
inate  man,  B  3100. 

Milne-Stones,  j-   pi.  mill-stones,  T.  ii.  1384. 

Ministre,  j.   minUter,  B  168. 

Ministreth,  pr.  s.  administers,  governs,  Bo.  III. 
m.  vi.   4. 

Minne.  imp.  s.  remember,  mention,  M.  P.  xvi.  48. 

Minstralcye,  i-  minstrelsy,  a  playing  upon  in- 
struments Jf  music,  the  sound  made  by  a  band 
of  minstrels.  F  368. 

Mintinge.  pr-fs.  pt.  intending.  Bo.  I.  m.  ii.  4. 

Miracle,  j,  miraculous  story,  legend,  B  1881. 

Mirour.  s.  mirror,  M.  P.  iii.  974. 

Mirre.  s.  myrrh,  A  3938. 

Mirthe.  s.  pleasure,  amusement,  A  766. 

Mis.  adj  bad,  H.  F.  1975;  amiss,  wrong,  blame- 
worthy, G  999. 

DCs.  I  pr-.  s.  lack,  have  not,  M.  P.  vi.  47. 

Mis.  s   wrong,  evil,  L.  CA)  366. 

Misacoanted.  .j>.i».  misreclconed.  T.  v.  irSs, 

Misaventure.  s.  misfortune,  unhappiness,  M.  P. 

IV     320. 

Misbilev^,  s    belief  of  trickery,   suspicion,   G 

Misbileved,  pp.  misbetiering  ones,  infidels,  M. 

P    i.  146 
Misboden.  pp   abused,  harmed,  A  909. 
Misctiaunce,  s    mishap,  ill  luck,  M.   P.  L  85; 

TiKf.^rttine,  L.   1826 

^VTiscbef  J ,  misfortun»",  danger,  M   P.  iv.  ;8. 

--'  "'itetll,  yr'.   s.  parts  or  divides  amiss,  B 

.St.  J-   •^ 

iSt,  p 

like^ 


-  aotb,  pr:  I.  d-Deth   amiss  to,  ill-ncats,   B 


'-tsdia'winges,  s.  pi.  vra^  of  drawing  aside.  Bo 

'    ni.  p    XII.  :i7. 

*Mi8ericonie.  s  pity,  M.  P.  u  »$,  35, 
Msese.  >^'   mjuries,  Bn.  T   o   iw   3t 
I    ^Csforysf .  p(   s   sor.^'  ""   iv.  1426. 

F 


320a. 


^..sgyed,  pp  misgu' ■ 

-   >ee  Gye. 

Mishap,  s  M  lurV  R  jgrir. 

MisknoMTlnge  '    bo    iii    m   yi   30. 

Mislay  p(   ;  ^47 

Misledmges,  .'  ,        %  i»ays,  Bo.  III.  p 

■nil.  2. 
MiSlylcetb./r-   s   im^frr   dicpJ<;ase5,  L.  1293, 
Mis!yv»d.  pp    "  •    ~  ^^ 

Mismetre  7-  v.  17916. 

Missat  ^:>f  .-  .lid  be,  M.  P 

ik.  941:  ^   '    suited  ill,  i<-  1194. 
Kwayd.  ;^   s»d  amies:   missAyd  n^r  da,  saai 

or  ioae  'jrtiKig.  M.  P.  iii.  528 
Ksee.  r-    fail.  M    P    r   75:   draw  to  an  end,  M 

P  V.  «o.     See  Ks 
Mis-set.  ^.  iCI-timed.  misplaced.  M.  P.  liL  12^0-. 
XlSSeTest,  2  /r.  ,>.  speaketx  evil  «f,  L.  >2> 


Mis-take,  pp.  mistaken,  made  a  mistake,  com- 
mitted an  error,  M.  P.  iii.  525. 

Mister,  s.  craft,  A  613;  need,  R.  1426;  vjkat 
mister  men,  what  manner  of  men,  A  1710. 

Mistlhede.  j.  mystery,  M.  P.  iv.  224. 

MiS-tometh,  pr.  pi.  turn  aside,  Bo.  III.  p.  iii.  10. 

MistrlSte,  rv  mistrust,  C  369. 

MiS'wandringe,  aJj.  straying,  Bo.  III.  p.  ii.  29. 

Miswent.  pt.  s.  erred,  T.  i.  633. 

Miswey,  adv.  astray,  R.  4766. 

MiS-weyes,  s.  pi.  by-paths,  Bo.  III.  m.  xi.  3, 

Miteyn,  s.  mitten,  glove,  C  372. 

Mizens,  .;.  pi.  middens,  dungheaps,  R.  6496. 

Mo,  adj.  pi  camp,  more  (in  number),  M.  P.  iii. 
366;  tymes  mo.  at  more  times,  at  other  times, 
E  449;  nto,  more  than  her,  others,  E  1039; 
athere  mo,  others  besides,  G  loot ;  na  mo,  no 
more,  none  else,  B  695.     See  More. 

Moche,  adj.  great,  .\I.  P.  iii.  904;  much,  B  1169. 

Mocliel,  adv.  much,  M.  P.  iii.  iioa. 

Moctael,  adj.  much,  G  611 ;  many,  G  673. 

Mocliel,  s.  size,  M.  P.  iii.  454,  861. 

Moder,  s.  mother,  .\I.  P.  i.  28;  the  large  plate  in 
an  astrolabe,  -4s.  i.  2,  2;  Modres,  ,gs«.  mother's, 
C  729;  G  1243. 

Mbeble,  adj.  movable.  As.  i.  21,  88. 

Hoeble,  y  furniture,  T.  iv.  1380;  Moebles,  *. //. 
movable  goods,  personal  property,  G  540. 

Moevable.  adj.  fickle.  Bo.  IV   m.  V    38. 

Moevabletee,  s.  mobility.  Bo.  IV,  p   vi    138. 

Moeved,  pt.  s  moved,  disturbed,  B  1136. 

Moevere,  s.  mover,  A  2987. 

Mokereres,  j   pi  misers.  Bo.  II,  p   V.  20. 

Mokre.  ti   heap  up.  T   iii.  1375. 

Molestie,  s.  trouble,  Bo    III.  p.  ix.  122. 

MolIiflcaciOtin,  s.  mollifying,  softening,  G  854. 

Molte,  pt.  s.  melted,  T.  v.  10.     See  Malt. 

Hone,  s.  moon,  M.  P.  iii.  824;  Mone,  ggm 
moon's,  B  3070:  Afones,  ggK.  moon's,  I  xo. 

Mooe,  s   moan,  ^f    P.  iv.  143. 

Moneste,  pr  s   admonish,  R.  3579. 

Moastres,  s  ge-n.  of  a  monster,  M.  P,  iii.  .  Ji; 
pi  monsters,  B  3302. 

Moayoors,  s  pi.  money-changers,  R.  68ri. 

Hood,  s.  anger,  R.  5162. 

MotUl,  s.  .oioan,  Lamentatioa,  complaint.  L.   ii6f>, 

^799- 
Hooming,  ,r.  mourning  B62T. 
Moot,   I  pr.   s.  must,  shall,  M.  P.  v.  "542.     'y,^.'- 

Mot. 
Moot,  jv  pi.  notes  00  a  horn,  &C.  P.  iii.  376 
Horatttee,  s  morality.  E  3687 ;  moral  tale,  I  38. 
Hordre,  s.  murder,  M   P.  ni  64. 
Hordre.  g;fr  to  murder,  kill,  L.  1536;  Mordred, 

pp   murdered,  E  725. 
Ifordrer.  t   murderer,  ^(   P.  v.  353. 
ItotdtiM^  s.  Bunlenag,  A  2001. 
■oce,  adj.  inymf.  if<at/tx,  M.  F.  vii.  240;  More, 


GLOcSAJOJLL  llODCX. 


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KS-  "k.    3-na. 


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■rrTm>r.-s •     ^ 


IL  r    ?c   =r- 


«:  ?   «»    ;gr   r  *^  : 


JC?  >- 


tsie- 


1'   jB: 


1.  ^^=1     =.-=. 


842 


GLOSSARIAL    INDEX. 


Nat,  adv.  not,  M.  P.   iii.  425;    iiat  but,  only, 

merely,  L.  1899:  quite,  L.  2091. 
Nat,  for  Ne  at,  i.e.  nor  at,  B  290. 
Nath,  /or  Ne  hath,  hath  not,  A  923. 
Nathelees,  adv.  nevertheless,  H.  F.  2073;  Na- 

theles,  M.  P.  ii.  iii. 
Nature,  s.  kind,  race,  M.  P.  v.  615. 
Ifaturel,  adj.  natural,  M.  P.  iv.  122. 
Naught,  adv.  not,  B  1701;  not  so,  G  269. 
Nay,  adv.  nay,  no,  M.  P.  iii.   1243;  opposed  to 

yea,  E   355;    answers   a  direct  question,   B 

1793;  surely  not!  M.  P.  iii.  1309;  as  s.  nay, 

untruth,  M.  P.  iii.  147;   it  is  >io  nay,  there  is 

no  denying  it,  B  1956. 
Nayles,  i.  pi.  nails,  B  3366. 
Nayte,  z'.  say  no  to,  deny,  I  1013. 
Ne,  adv.  not,  M.  P.  i.   53;  coiij.  nor,  M.  P.  iii. 

2,  74;  ne  .  .  .  thing,  nothing,  M.  P.  iii.  1262; 

ne  .  .  .  never,  never,  M.  P.  iii.  1196;  Ne,  adv. 

not;  ne  dooth,  do  ye  not,  C  745. 
Necesseden, /^.  //.  compelled,  Bo.  III.  m.  ix.  9. 
Neddres,//.  adders,  snakes,  L.  699. 
Nede,  adv.  of  necessity,  M.  P.  iii.   1074;  Nedes, 

gen.    as   ad7<.    of   necessity,  M.   P.   iii.    1201; 

Nede,  adv.  necessarily,  needs,  G  1280. 
Nede,  j.  dat.  need,  M.  P.  i.  44;  Nedes,  //.  neces- 
sary things,  business,  B  174;  needs,  G  178. 
Nede,  V.  to  be  necessary,  B  871;  Nedeth,  pr.  s. 

needs  it,  it  needs,  F  65 ;  Neded,  //.  .r.  it  needed, 
.   ^J,53,         ......... 

T\    'ST;'"-"-''airt-"--  -.'r-"-;esf„ly,  A,H77- 
\        iBt,  J.  c  ,1,  needle's,  G  440. 

yist,  pQf.lv.  needlessly,  E  621 ;  Needless,  with- 
like-j.jse,  E  455. 

w^(j  adv.  necessarily,  Bo   III.  p.  ix.  102. 
{  \\dj.  none,  no,  A  4185. 

H  t       iv  cotnp.  nearer,  L.  314. 
iJ  ^^dj.  nearer,  G  721. 

let,  s.  neat,  cattle,  A  597. 

Itjardye,  .'•.  niggardliness,  M.  P.  x.  53. 
iNegh,  adv.  near,  almost,  M.  P.  iii.  907. 
Keghen,  v.  draw  nigh,  L.  318. 
Neigh,  adj.  near,  nigh,  F  49. 
Neighebores,  //.   neighbors,  dwellers  near,  L. 

720. 
Neither  nother,   (in)   neither  the   one   nor  the 

other.  Bo.  V.  m.  iii.  60. 
Nekke-boon,  s.  nape  of  the  neck,  lit.  neck-bone, 

B  669,  1839. 
Nekkes,  //.  necks,  M.  P.  v.  671. 
Neihpnen,  7'.  to  name,  B  507;    Nempne,  v.  to 

name,  tell,  F  318. 
Ner,  adz>.  comp.  nearer,  M.  P.  ii.  19;  Nere,  M. 

P.  iii.  38;   7ier  the  les,  nevertheless,  M.  P.  iv. 

i^o;   ner  and  ner,  nearer  and  nearer,  B  1710. 
Nercotikes,  .s.  //.  narcotics,  A  1472. 
Nere,y2;r  Ne  were,  2  pt.  s.  wast  not,  M.  P.  iv. 

112;  //.  .s.  subj.  should  not  be,  M.  P.  iv.  35; 


were  it  not  (for),  M.  P.  i.  24,  180;   Nere,//.  j. 

subj.  were  not  {put  for  ne  were),  B  547. 
Nescapest,  for  Ne  escapest,   escapest   not,  L. 

2643. 
Nest,   i.    nest;    luikked  nest,   i.e.   mau  ni,  or 

Mauny,  B  3576;  Nestes,  //.  H.  F.  1516. 
Nevene,  v.  name,  H.  F.  562;  ger.  H.  F.  1438; 

pr.  pi.  subj.  may  name,  may  mention,  G  1473. 
Never,  adv.  never,  B  87;   never  dide  but,  never 

did  anything  that  was  not,  M.  P.  iv.  297;  never 

the  neer,  never  the  nearer,  none  the  nearer,  G 

721. 
Neveradel,  adv.  not  a  bit,  C  670. 
Never-mo,   adv.  never  more,  never,  M.  P.  iii. 

1125. 
Nevew,   .r.    grandson,    H.    F.    617;     L.    2659; 

nephew,  L.  1440;   B  3594. 
Newe,  adj.  fern,  as  s.  ;   a  neive,  a  new  (love), 

H.  F.  302 ;   Newe,  adv.  anew,  afresh,  L.  103. 
Newe,  2  pr.  pi.  renew,  M.  P.  xxiii.  11;  Newed, 

pt.  s.  became  new,  had  something  new  in  it, 

M.  P.  iii.  906. 
Newfangel,  adj.  newfangled,  taken  with   nov- 
elty, F  618. 
New-fangelnesse,  s.  fondness  for  novelty,  M. 

P.  vii.  141;   L.  154;   F  610. 
Nexte,  adj.  comp.  nearest,  next  preceding,  last, 

H.  F.  1775;  adj.  sup.  nearest,  L.  2481;  B  1814. 
Nigard,  s.  niggard,  B  4105. 
Nighte,  V.  become  night,  M.  P.  v.  209. 
Nighter-tale,  the  night-time,  A  97. 
Nigromanciens,  s.  pi.  magicians,  I  603. 
Nil,  for  Ne  wil,  will  not,  R.  4344;  M.  P.  iii.  92; 

pr.    s.    will   not   (have),   M.   P.   iii.   586;  will 

(she)   not,  M.  P.  iii.  1140;  W\S.\.,  for  Ne  wilt, 

wilt  not,  L.  758;  Nil,  i  pr.  s.  I  desire  not,  I 

dislike,  E  646. 
Nillinge,  s.  refusing,  Bo.  V.  p.  ii.  24. 
Nin,  for  Ne  in,  nor  in,  F  35. 
NiS,_/or  Ne  is,  is  not,  M.  P.  ii.  77;    ther  nis  no 

more  but}  all  that  remains  is  that,  L.  847. 
Niste,  y^r  Ne  wiste,  i  //.  s.  (I)  knew  not,  M. 

P.  v.  152. 
Nobles,  //.  nobles  (the  coin  worth  bs.  8d.),  H. 

F.  1315;  C  907. 
Noblesse,  .r.  nobility,  magnificence,  B  3438;  high 

honor,  B  3208. 
Nobley,  .r.  nobility,  splendor,  H.   F.  1416;    no- 
bility, assembly  of  nobles,  G  449;  state,  F  77. 
Noght,  adv.  not,  B  94,  112. 
Noght,  i-.  nothing,  M.  P.  iii.  567. 
Noisen,  2  pr.  pi.  cry  aloud,  Bo.  III.  m.  vi.  ir. 
Nolde, /(^r  Ne  wolde,  (1)  would  not,  M.  P.  iii. 

3ir;  did  not  want,  M.  P.  v.  90;  pt.  s.  would 

not,  M.   P.  i.  31;    NoVest,  for  Ne   woldest, 

wouldst  not,  M.  P.  iii.  482. 
Nombre,  j.  number,  A  716. 
Nome,  //.  taken,  L.  822.     Pp.  of  Nimen. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


843 


Nones,  for   the,   for  the  once,  for   this   special 

occasion,  for  the  nonce,  L.  295;  B  1165:  -with 

the  nones,  011  the  condition,  H.  F.  2099;   I,. 

1540. 
Nonnes,  i.  pi.  gen.  nuns',  B  3999. 
Noon,  rtr^r'.  none,  M.  P.  i.  25;   B  102;  Non,  M. 

P.  iii.  941;  Noon,  //.  R  89. 
Noot,y(»r  Ne  woot,  (1)  know  not,  L.  2660;  Not, 

for  Ne  not,  (I)  know  not,  L.  193;  Noot, /or 

Ne  wot,  I  fr.  s.  I  know  not,  B  892. 
Norice,  i.  nurse,  L.  1346. 
Norishinge,  s.  nurture,  bringing  up,  E  1040. 
Norisshinges,  //.  refections.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  42; 

sustenance,  Bo.  I.  p.  vi.  105. 
Nortelrye,  i".  good  manners,  A  3967. 
Nory,  i.  pupil  (lit.  foster-child),  Bo.  III.   p.  xi. 

265:   Norry,  Ro.  I.  p.  iii.  16. 
Nose-thirles,  //.  nostrils,  A  557. 
Noskinnes,  for  Nones  kinnes,  of  no  kind,  H.  F. 

1794. 
Nost,_/br  Ne  wost,  knowest  not.  M.  P.  iii.  1137; 

Nostow,  y^r  Ne  wost  thou,  H.  F.  loio. 
Not,  not;   not  but,  only,  M.  P.  iv.  121. 
Not,/)^  Ne  wot,  know  not,  M.  P.  iii.  29;   (she) 

knows  not,  M.  P.  iv.  214.     See  Noot. 
Notabilitee,  s.  a  thing  worthy  to  be  known,  B 

4399- 
Notable,  adj.  notorious,  B  1875. 
Note,  s.  musical  note,  peal,  H.  F.  1720;  tune, 

M.  P.  V.  677;   Note,  note  (of  music),  B  1737. 
Note,  i'.  need,  business,  A  4068. 
Noteful,  ndj.  useful.  Bo.  I.  p.  i.  81. 
Notemigges,  j.  //.  nutmegs,  R.  1361. 
Notemuge,  s.  nutmeg,  B  1953. 
Not-heed,  .s.  crop-head,  A  109. 
Nother.  neither  (of  them),  L.  192. 
No-thing,  adv.  not  at  all,  in  no  way,  M.  P.  i. 

171;   in  no  degree,  L.  88:  in  no  respect,  B  575; 

not  at  all.  C  404. 
Notificacions,  //.  hints.  Bo.  V.  m.  iii.  26. 
Notifyed,    //.    made    known,    proclaimed,    B 

256. 
Nouchis,    //.    ornaments    (containing   jewels), 

settings  (for  jewels),  H.  F.  1350. 
Noumbre,  .$-.  number,  M.  P.  v.  381. 
Noumbre.  v.  number,  M.  P.  iii.  439. 
Nouncerteyn,  s.  uncertainty,  M.  P.  xvili.  46. 
Noun-power,  .t.  impotence.  Bo.  III.  p.  v.  24. 
Nouthe,  now;  as  noiithe,  at  present,  A  462. 
Novelryes,  pi.  novelties,  H.  F.  686. 
Now  and  now,  adv.  at  times,  from  time  to  time, 

occasionally,  F  430. 
Nowches,  s.  pi.  jewels,  E  382.     See  Nouchis. 
Noye,  7'.  harm,  R.  3772. 
Noyous,  adj.   harmful,   R.    3230;    troublesome, 

hard,  H.  F.  574. 
Ny,  adv.  nigh,  nearly,  M.  P.  xviii.  78;  nearly, 

L.  2J47 ;  'jiiel  ny,  almost,  E  82. 


Nyce,  adj.  foolish,  M.  P.  iv.  262;   foolish,  weak, 

B  1088. 
Nycete,  i.  foolishness,  M.  P.  iii.  613;  folly,  M. 

P.  v.  572;  Nycctee,  folly,  G  463. 
Nyntene,  nineteen,  L.  283. 


0. 


0,  adj.  one,  one  continuous  and  uniform,  H.  F. 
iioo;  a  single.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  178;  ?itim.  one, 
R.  6398;  adj.  one,  B  52.     See  Oo. 

Obeisant,  adj.  obedient,  E  66. 

Obeisaunce,  .s.  obedience,  E  24,  502;  obedient 
act,  E  230;  ill  your  olxisaiitice,  in  obedience 
to  you,  M.  P.  ii.  84;  unto  her  ohcisaunce,  in 
obedience  to  her,  L.  5S7;  Obeisaunces,  //. 
acts  of  obedience,  L.  149;  duties,  delicate  ob- 
servances, L.  1268;  submissive  acts,  acts  ex- 
pressing obedient  attention,  F  515. 

Obeising,  adj.  obedient,  yielding,  L.  1266. 

Objecte,  adj.  presented,  l!o.  V.  p.  v.  5. 

Observaunce,  j.  reverential  attention,  homage, 
M.  P.  xxiii.  18;  Observaunces,  pi.  respectful 
attentions,  M.  P.  vii.  249;  observances,  duties, 
L.  150. 

Observe,  v.  to  give  countenance  to,  favor,  B 
1821. 

Occasioun,  i^.  cau.se,  L.  994. 

Oocjdpnt.  .V.  West,  B  297. 

Occupye,  imp:  s.  hold-ltr,  Bs  ?.  ."^nr.  hjt^c'.'^ 
to  occupy,  take  up,  F  64;   Occupieth,  pr.  s. 
takes  up,  dwells  in,  B  424. 

Octogamye,  s.  marrying  eight  times,  D  33. 

Of,  adv.  off,  away,  M.  P.  v.  494;   B  3748;  off,  L. 

2334- 

Of,  prep,  as  to,  in  respect  of,  M.  P.  v.  317;  for, 
M.  P.  i.  136;  from,  M.  P.  iii.  964;  with  refer- 
ence to,  in,  M.  P.  V.  299;  as  to,  M.  Ej.  -'-'^  • 
as  the  result  of,  upon,  M.  P.  v.  555;  qj 
lif,  in  all  my  life,  M.  P.  v.  i,'&^;  fuljila  ^x- 
filled  with,  M.  P.  vii.  42;  Of, prep,  by,  L.  367; 
out  of,  L.  2664;  during,  B  510;  with,  G  626; 
by,  E  70;  with,  for,  B  1779,  E  33;  as  regards, 
with  respect  to,  B  90;  of  grace,  by  his  favor, 
out  of  his  favor,  E  178. 

Of-caste,  imp.  s.  cast  off,  M.  P.  v.  132. 

Offensioun,  offence,  damage,  A  2416. 

Office,  s.  duty,  M.  P.  V.  236;  duty,  employment, 
B  3446:  houses  of  ojjice,  servants'  offices,  pan- 
tries, larders,  etc.,  E  264. 

Offreth,  imp.  pi.  2  /.  offer  ye,  C  910. 

Of-newe,  adi'.  newly,  lately,  E  938. 

Of-taken,  //.  taken  off,  taken  away,  B  1855. 

Ofte,  ad7\  often,  B  278:  Ofter,  oftener,  E  215. 

Ofte,  adj.  pi.  many,  frequent,  E  226. 

Ofte  tyme,  often,  M.  P.  iii.  1158. 

Of  that,  coiij.  because,  L.  815. 


844 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Of-thowed,  //.  thawed  away,  H.  F.  1143. 

Oght,  adv.  ought,  in  any  way,  at  all,  M.  P.  iii. 
1141. 

Oghte,  I  pt.  s.  ought,  M.  P.  iv.  216;  Oghten,  2 
pt.  pi.  M.  P.  iv.  282:  Oghte,  pt.  s.  owed,  L. 
58^;  iinpers.  (he)  ought,  L.  377;  //.  s.  be- 
came", as  him  oghte,  as  it  became  him,  B  1097; 
//.  s.  siihj.  it  should  behove  us,  E  1150.  See 
Oughte. 

Oistre,  s.  oyster,  A  182. 

Oke,  s.  oak,  M.  p.  V.  223.     See  Ook. 

Olifaunts,  i.  //.  elephants.  Bo.  III.  p.  viii.  32. 

Ollveres,  s.  pi.  olive-trees,  R.  1314;  olive-yards, 
B  3226. 

Olyve,  s.  olive-tree,  M.  P.  v.  181. 

On,  prep,  in  behalf  of,  M.  P.  iv.  298;  binding 
on,  M.  P.  X.  43;  hir  on,  upon  her,  M.  P.  iii. 
1217;  On,  prep,  upon,  concerning,  B  48;  on, 
in,  at;  on  eve,  in  the  evening;  oti  niorive,  in 
the  morning,  E  1214;  on  reste,  at  rest,  F  379. 

On,  adj.  one;  everich  on,  every  one,  B  1164. 
See  0,  Oon. 

Onde,  i.  malice,  R.  148. 

Onerous,  adj.  onerous,  burdensome,  R.  5633. 

Ones,  adv.  once,  M.  P.  iii.  665;  B  588;  of  one 
mind,  united  in  design,  C  6g6;  at  ones,  at 
once,  H  10. 

On-lofte,  adv.  aloft,  up  in  the  air,  in  the  sky,  M. 
P.  V.  683;   aloft,  i.e.  still  above  ground,  E  229. 

On-lyve,  adv.  alive,  M.  P.  vi.  94. 
^fA    JK«/   •     ■".'"'".  .P-.iii4_H6i ;  adj.  one,  G  207. 
SeeO,'6on. 

Ook,  i.  oak,  M.  P.  V.  176.     See  Oke. 

Oon,  num.  one,  M.  P.  iii   39:   always  the  same, 

M.  P.  iii.  649;   xxii.  82;   the  same,  i.e.  of  small 

consequence,   M.    P.    iii.    1295;    one   and    the 

same,  C  333;    that  oon,  the  one,  C   665;    the 

same,  B  2142;  the  same  thing,  alike,  F   537; 

oon  *l'e  faireste,  one  who  was  the  fairest,  one 
.„,.,  o.  near.  ^  '  .  ... 


igardyp 


airest,  E  212;  ever  in  oon,  continually 


.M„~i,   -^e,  constantly  m  the  same  manner,  E  602; 

iNegh  •' 

Tjp     many  oon,  many  a  one,  h,  775. 

Ooned,  //.  united,  Bo.  IV.  p   vi.  88. 

Open-ers,  .f.  //.  medlars,  A  3871. 

Open-heeded,  //.  bareheaded,  D  645. 

Opies,  //.  opiates,  L.  2670. 

Oppresse,  v.  interfere  with,  suppress,  M,  P.  x. 

60;   to  put  down,  G  4. 
Oppressioun,  .s.  oppression,  wrong,  L.  1868. 
Or,  ad7'.  ere.  before,  G  314. 
Or,  coiij.  before,  M.  P.  iii.  128;   H.  F.  loi. 
Or.  prep,  before,  M.  P.  iii.  234. 
Ordal,  s.  ordeal,  T.  iii.  1046. 
Orde,  s.  dat.  point,  L.  645. 
Ordenaunce,  s.  ordinance,  regulation,  M.  P.  v. 

590:    Ordinaunce,    command,    M.    P.     x.    44; 

ordaining,   governance,   arrangement,   B   763; 

provision,  B  250. 


Ordenee,  adj.  well-ordered,  Bo.  IV.  p.  i.  52. 

Ordenely,  adzK  conformably,  in  order,  Bo.  IV. 
p.  vi.  343. 

Ordenour,  .?.  ruler,  Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  112. 

Ordeyne,  adj.  ordered,  T.  i.  892. 

Ordeyned,  //.  appointed,  F  177. 

Ordre,  s.  order,  law,  M.  P.  iv.  155;  by  ordre,  in 
order,  L  2514;  order,  class,  G  995. 

Ores,  //.  oars,  L.  2308. 

Orfrays,  s.  gold  embroidery,  R.  1076. 

Organs,  i-.  //.  '  organs,'  the  old  equivalent  of  or- 
gan, G  134. 

Orient,  the  East,  B  3504. 

Oriental,  adj.  eastern;  and  so,  of  superior 
quality,  L.  221. 

Orisonte,  s.  horizon,  T.  v.  276. 

Orloge,  s.  clock,  M.  p.  v.  350. 

Orphelin,  adj.  orphaned.  Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  36. 

Orpiment,  j.  orpiment,  G  759,  774,  823. 

Osanne,  i.e.  Hosannah,  B  642. 

Ost,  s.  host,  army,  H.  F.  186;   L.  1906. 

OstelmentS,  s.  pi.  furniture,  household  goods, 
Bo.  II.  p.  v.  150. 

Ostesse,  .s.  hostess,  Bo.  IV.  m.  iii.  26. 

Otes,  s.  pi.  oats,  C  375. 

Other,//,  others,  M.  P.  iii.  891;  Othere,  adj.  pi. 
other,  B  3344;  Other,  sing.;  ivhcnce  that  other 
=  the  other,  answering  to  that  oon=  the  one, 
F4g6. 

Other,  conj.  or,  M.  P.  iii.  810;  either,  L.  (A)  35. 

Otheres,  pron.  sing,  each  other's,  lit.  of  the 
otlier,  C  476. 

Otherweyes,  adv.  otherwise,  E  1072. 

Other-whyle,  adv.  sometimes.  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  131. 

Otherwyse,  adv.  on  any  other  condition,  F  534. 

Othes,  i.  pi.  oaths,  C  472;   F  528. 

Ouche,  s.  jewel,  D  743. 

Ought,  i'.  anything,  M.  P.  iii.  459. 

Ought,  adi<.  at  all,  M.  P.  iii.  537. 

Oughte,  pt.  s.  impers.  it  behoved  (us),  M.  P.  i. 
119;  //.  .y.  suhj .  it  would  become,  as  in  oughte 
us  =  it  would  become  us,  it  would  be  our  duty, 
G  14;  Oghten,  i  pt.  pi.  we  ought,  G  6; 
Oghte,  pt.  s.  indie,  it  was  fit,  it  was  due,  E 
1 1 20. 

Oughtestow,  for  Oughtest  thou,  L.  1957. 

Oule,  .r.  owl,  M.  P.  v.  343. 

Oules,  s.  pi.  awls,  D  1730. 

Ounces,  j-.  //.  small  pieces,  A  677. 

Ounded,  adj.  wavy,  T.  iv.  736. 

Oundy,  adj.  wavy,  H.  F.  1386. 

Oure,  ours,  M.  P.  v.  545. 

Out-breke,  v.  break  out,  break  silence,  M.  P.  ii. 
12. 

Out-caughte, //.  j.  caught  out,  drew  out,  B  1861. 

Outen,  V.  to  come  out  with,  utter,  display,  ex- 
hibit, E2438;  G  834. 

Outerly,  adv.  utterly,  entirely,  E  335. 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


845 


Outfleyinge,  j.  flying  out,  H.  F.  1523. 

Out-hees,  s.  hue  and  cry,  A  2012. 

Outher,  a'uj.  or,  M.  p.  iii.  iioo. 

Outlandish,  a<^J.  foreign,  M.  P.  ix.  22. 

Outrage,  s.  excess,  M.  P.  ix.  5;   Bo.  II.  m.  v.  5. 

Outrageous,  adj.  excessive,  M.  P.  v.  336;  vio- 
lent, excessive,  C  650. 

Outraye,  ?'.  pass  beyond  control,  E  643. 

Outrely,  <tti7'.  utterly,  C  849. 

Out-taken,//,  excepted  (lit.  taken  out),  B  277. 

Over, /re/,  beyond,  above,  M.  P.  iii.  891. 

Over-al,  «</?'.  everywhere,  M.  P.  iii.  171;  07'er 
nl  and  a!,  beyond  every  other,  M.  P.  iii.  1003. 

Over-blowe,  //.  blown  over,  past,  L.  1287. 

Overcomer,  s.  conqueror.  Bo.  I.  m.  ii.  17. 

Over-goon,  v.  overspread,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  46. 

Over-kerveth,  />r.  s.  intersects.  As.  i.  21,  99. 

Overlade,  v.  overload,  L.  621. 

Overlight,  adj.  too  feeble,  Bo.  IV.  m.  iii.  38. 

Over-loked,  //.  looked  over,  perused,  M.  P.  iii. 

2j2. 

Over-passeth,  pr.  s.  surpasses.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi. 

Over-shake,  //.  caused  to  pass  away,  shaken 

off,  M.  P.  V.  681. 
Overshote, //»./  had  overshote  he»i,h^A  over- 
run the  line,  M.  P.  iii.  383. 
Over-skipte,  i  //.  j.  skipped  over,  omitted,  M. 

P.  iii.  i2o3. 
Oversloppe,  s.  upper  garment,  G  633. 
Over-sprat, /a-,  j.  -^verspreadeth,  T.  ii.  767. 
Overte,  aJJ.  open,  yielding,  easy  passage,  H.  F". 

718. 
Overthrowe,  v.  be  overturned,  be  ruined,  H.  F. 

1640. 
Over-throwinge,  adj'.  overwhelming.  Bo.  I.  m. 

ii.  2;  headlong.  Bo.  II.  m.  vii.  i;  headstrong. 

Bo.  I.  m.  vi.  28;  revolving.  Bo.  III.  m.  xii   47. 
Over-thwart,   ad-n.    across,   T.  iii.  685;    Over- 

thwert,  M.  P.  iii.  863. 
Overtymeliche,  ad7J.  untimely.  Bo.  I.  m.  i.  20. 
Over-whelveth,  pr.    s.   overturns,   turns  over, 

agitates,  Bo.  II.  m.  iii.  21. 
Owed,  //.  due.  Bo.  IV.  p.  v.  20;  Oweth,  pr.  s. 

nwneth,  owns,  possesses,  C  361. 
Owene,  adj.  own,  B  3198;  pi.  B  3584. 
Owh,  ititerj.  alas,  Bo.  I.  p.  vi.  27. 
Owher,  ad-<'.  anywhere,  M.  P.  iii.  776. 
Oxes,.i,v;/.  sing,  ox's,  E  207. 
Oxe-stalle,  j.  oxstall,  E  398. 
Oynement,  .?.  ointment,  A  631. 
Oynons,  j.  //.  onions,  A  634. 

P. 

Paas,  s.  pace,  step,  L.  284;  G  575;  goon  a  paas, 

go  at  a  footpace,  C  866. 
Pacs,  V.  pass  beyond,  overstep,  H.  F.  392;  go 


away,  M.  P.  xxi.  9;  ger.  to  pass,  H.  F.  841; 
0/  this  thi/ig  to  pace,  to  pass  over  this  in  re- 
view, H.  F.  239;  to  pace  0/,  to  pass  from,  B 
205 ;  I  pr.  s.  stihj.  cr  I  pace  =  ere  I  depart,  ere 
I  die,  F  494;  pr.  s.  subj.  may  pass  away,  may 
depart,  E  1092. 

Pacience,  s.;  took  in  patience,  was  perfectly 
willing,  M.  P.  iv.  40. 

Paillet,  s.  pallet,  T.  iii.  229. 

Paisible,  adj.  peaceable,  M,  P.  ix.  i. 

Pak,  i-.  pack,  set,  L.  (A)  299. 

Palais,  s.  palace,  M.  P.  i.  183. 

Palasye,  s.  palsy,  R.  1098. 

Pale,  s.  perpendicular  stripe,  H.  F.  1840.  Still 
used  in  heraldry. 

Palestral,  adj.  athletic,  T.  v.  304. 

Paleth,/r.  i.  renders  pale.  Bo.  II.  m.  iii.  4. 

Paleys,  .r.  palace,  mansion  (in  astrology),  M. 
P.  iv.  54. 

Paleys-yates,  //.  gates  of  the  palace,  M.  P.  iv. 
82. 

Palinge,  j.  the  making  a  perpendicular  stripe, 
I  417. 

Palis,  s.  palisade,  stockade.  Bo.  I.  p.  vi.  45; 
paling,  rampart.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  98. 

Palled,  adj.  enfeebled,  languid,  H  55. 

Pan,  -v.  brain-pan.  skull,  A  1165. 

Panade,  s.  knife,  A  3929. 

Paniers,  //.  panniers,  baskets  for  bread,  H.  F. 

Panne,  s.  a  pan,  ' 

Panter,  s.  bag-net  for  birds,  L.  131. 

Papeer,  s.  pepper,  G  762. 

Papeiay,  j.  a  popinjay,  a  parrot,  B  1957. 

Papelard,  .r.  deceiver,  R.  7283. 

Papelardye,  j.  deceit,  R.  6796. 

Papcr-whyt,  adj.  white  as  paper,  L.  1198. 

Paradys,  s.  paradise,  heaven,  B  3200. 

Parage,  i^.  dignity,  high-priest,  R.  4759. 

ParamentS,  s.  pi.  rich  array,  A  2501. 

Paramours,  adv.  passionately,  T.  v.  158;  ex- 
cessively (said  of  love),  L.  (A)  260;  Paramour, 
i.e.  par  atnour,  for  love,  B  2033. 

Paraunter,  adv.  peradventurc,  perhaps,  M.  P. 
iii.  779;   perchance,  peradventure,  L.  362. 

Paraventure,  adv.  peradventure,  perhaps,  1". 
190;  by  chance,  E  234. 

Parcel,  .?.  (small)  part,  M.  P.  ii.  io6. 

Parceners,  j.  //.  partners,  R  6952. 

Parchemin,  .f.  parchment.  Bo.  V.  m.  iv.  15. 

Parde!  interj.  answering  to  F.  par  Dieu,  M.  P. 
iii.  721:   Pardee,  B  1977;   E  1234. 

Pardoner,  s.  seller  of  indulgences,  A  543. 

Paregal,  adj.  equal,  T.  v.  840. 

Parements,  //.  ornaments,  L.  1 106. 

Parfay,  interj.  by  my  faith,  B  no;  by  my  faith, 
verily,  B  849. 

Parfey,  adv.  in  faith,  H.  F.  938. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Parfit,  adj.  perfect,  M.  P.  ii.  38:  G  353. 

Parfournest,  2  pr.  s.  perforraest,  B  1797;  Par- 
fourn(-il,  //.  B  1646. 

Parisshens,  j.  //   parishioners,  A  482. 

Paritorie,  j.  pellitory,  Parietaria  officinalis, 
G581. 

Parlement,  j.  parliament,  deliberation,  A  1306. 

Paroche-prest,  j.  parish  priest,  R.  6384. 

Parodie,  .«.  period,  T.  v.  1548. 

Parsoneres,  s.  pi.  partners,  partakers.  Bo.  V.  p. 
V.  no. 

Parten,  ger.  to  share;  to  parten  with,  to  par- 
ticipate in,  L.  465;  Parteth,  pr.  s.  departs,  L. 
359;  Parted,  //.  departed,  gone  away,  taken 
away,  L    mo. 

Parting-felawes,  j.  //.  partners,  I  637. 

Part-les,  adj.  without  his  share,  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii. 

49- 
Partriches,  pi.  gen.  partridges',  H.  F.  1392. 
Party,  .?.  part,  portion,  L.  482;   B  17. 
Parvys,  .?.  church-porch,  A  310. 
Pas,  i.  grade,  degree,  M.  P.  iv.  134;//.  degrees, 

M.  P.  iv.  121;  thousand  pas,  a  mile,  Bo.  I. 

p.  iv.  301;   Pas,  .f.  pace,  B  399;  V2iS,pl.  paces, 

movements,  B  306.     See  Paas. 
Passant,  adj.  surpassing,  A  2107. 
Passen,  ?'.  surpass,  L.  1127;   Passeth,  pr.  s.  L. 

275;    Passed,  pt.  s.  excelled,  L.   1530;  Passe, 

imp.  s.  or  pi.  pass  (over) ,  go  (on) ,  proceed, 

r-^-iittf.-;  }ir.   s.   passer  away,  J<   404;  Passed, 

//.  past,  spent,  E  610;    Passing,  pres.  part. 

surpassing,  extreme,  E  240.     See  Pace. 
Passing,  adj.  surpassing,  excellent,  G  614. 
Passioun,   s.    suffering,  M.  P.  iv.   255;    passive 

feeling,  impression.  Bo.  V.  m.  iv.  56;  passion, 

suffering,  B  1175. 
Patre,  Patren,  v.  patter,  chatter,  R.  6794,  7243. 
Patroun,  j.    patron,  M.    P.   iv.   275;    protector, 
^"    M    I .  vii.  4;   Patron,  pattern,  M.  P.  iii.  910. 
Paunche,  j.  paunch,  belly,  M.  P.  v.  610. 
Pawmes,  .r.  //.  palms,  T.  iii.  1114. 
Pax,  i.  a  painted  tablet  kissed  during  the  cele- 
bration of  mass,  I  407. 
Pay,  s.  pleasure,  M.  P.  v.  271;  more  to  pay,  so 

as  to  give  more  satisfaction,  M.  P.  v.  474. 
Payed,  //.  pleased,  satisfied,  M.  P.  ix.  3;   holde 

her   payd,  think  herself  satisfied,  M.  P.  iii. 

269. 
Payens,//.  pagans,  L.  786;  B  534. 
Payndemayn,  .f.  bread  of  a  peculiar  whiteness, 

B  1915. 
Payre,  s.  pair,  M.  P.  iii.  1289. 
Pecok,  i-.  peacock,  M.  P.  v.  356. 
Pecunial,  adj.  pecuniary,  D  1314. 
Pe^S,  i-.  peace,  M.  P.  i.  69;   B  130;  in  pees,  in 

silence,  B  228. 
Pees, /w/^r/'.  peace !  hush!  B  836;  G  951. 


Pekke,  to  pick,  B  4157. 

Pel,  s.  peel,  small  castle,  H.  F.  1310. 

Pelet,  .y.  pellet,  stone  cannon-ball,  H.  F.  1643. 

Penaunce,  s.   suffering,   torment,   M.   P.  i.   82; 

trouble,  xviii.  79;  self-abasement,  L.  2077. 
Penaunt,  s.  a  penitent,  one  who  does  penance,  B 

3124- 
Pencel,  j.  small  banner,  T.  v.  1043. 
Penible,  adj.  painstaking,  careful  to  please,  E 

714. 
Penner,  s.  pen-case,  E  1879. 
Penoun,  a  pennant  or  ensign  borne  at  the  end  of 

a  lance,  A  978. 
Pens,  s.  pi.  pence,  C  402. 
Pensel,  s.  small  banner,  R.  6280. 
Peraventure,  adv.    perhaps,   H.   F.    304;    per- 
haps, perchance,  C  935.     See  Paraventure. 
Percas,  adv.  perchance,  R.  6647;    Per  cas,  by 

chance,  L.  1967. 
Perce,  Percen,  v.  to  pierce,  B  2014;  Perceth, 

pr.  s.  pierces  with  his  gaze,  M.  P.  v.  331. 
Perchemin,  j.  parchment,  R.  6584. 
Percinge,  s.  \)\cxcmg,  Jor  percinge,  to  prevent 

any  piercing,  B  2052. 
Perdurable,  adj.  lasting,  I  75. 
Perdurabletee,  s.   immortality.   Bo.    II.   p.   vii. 

113- 
Pere,  s.  peer,  equal,  M.  P.  i.  97;  B  3244;  F  678. 
Peregryn,  adj.  peregrine,  i.e.  foreign,  F  428. 
Perfi-ionette,  .r.  pear-tree,  A  3248. 
Perfit,  a'j.  perfect,  A  1271.     See  Parflt. 
Perissed,  //.  destroyed,  I  579. 
Perle,  s.  pearl,  L.  221. 
Permutacioun,  s.  change,  M.  P.  xv.  19. 
Perpetuely,  adv.  perpetually,  M.  P.  iv.  20. 
Perrc,  s.  jewelry,  precious  stones,   H.   F.    124; 

Perrie,  H.   F.  1393;  Perree,  jewelry,  precious  ^ 

stones,  gems,  B  3495. 
Pers,  of  a  sky-blue  color,  A  439. 
Persaunt,  adj.  piercing,  R.  2809. 
Perseveraunce,  j.  continuance,  G  443. 
Persevereth,  pr.  s.  lasteth,  C  497. 
Perseveringe,  s.  perseverance,  G  117. 
Person,  j.  parson,  I  23;  Persone,  B  1170;  Per- 

soun,  A  478. 
Perturbacioun,  s.  trouble.  Bo.  I.  p.  i.  no. 
Perturben,  pres.  pi.  disturb,  A  906. 
Pervenke,  s.  periwinkle,  R.  903. 
Pervers,  adj.  perverse,  self-willed,  M.  P.  iii.  813. 
Pese,  V.  appease,  R.  3397. 
Pesen,  //.  peas,  L.  648. 
Pesible,  adj.  calm.  Bo.  I.  p.  v.  3. 
Peter,  interj.  by  St.  Peter,  G  665. 
Peyne,  j.  pain,  grief,  distress,  torment,  M.  P.  iii. 

587;   iv.  96;  pain,  suffering,  B  2134;   trouble,  Mj 

care,  F  509;  upon  peyne,  under  a  penalty,  E  " 

586. 
Peyne,  i  pr.  s.  reji.  I  peyne  me  =  1  take  pains, 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


847 


C  330;   Peyned  hir,  fit.  s.  refl.   took  pains,  E 

976;    Peyneth   hir,  pr.  s.   rejt.  endeavors,    1? 

320;  Peyne  me.f.  put  myself  to  trouble,  H.  F. 

246;  Peyneth  himself,   M.  P.  v.  339;  Peynen 

hem,  strive,  L.  636. 
Peynte,  v.  paint,  M.  P.  iii.  783;    color  highly, 

H.  K.  246;  do  peynte,  cause  to  be  painted,  M. 

P.  iii.  259;  Peynted,  //.  M.  P.  v.  284;  Peynte, 

71.  paint,  smear,  L.  875. 
Peyre, .?.  pair,  A  2121. 
Peysible,  adj.  tranquil.  Bo.  III.  m.  ix.  58. 
Peytrel,  .v.  properly,  the  breastplate  of  a  horse 

in  armor,  G  564. 
Phitonesses,   pi.  pythonesses,  witches,   H.    F. 

1-261. 
PiggeS-nye,  s.  pig's  eye,  a  term  of  endearment, 

A  3268. 
Pighte,  pt.  s.  subj.  should  pierce,  should  stab, 

M.  P.  i.  163;  //.  s.  pitched,  A  2689.     Pt.  t.  of 

picchen. 
Piked,  pt.  s.  picked,  stole,  L.  2467. 
Pilche,  s.  a  warm  furred  outer  garment,  M.  P. 

XX.  4. 
Pilere,  .r.  pillar,  M.  P.   iii.  739;    Piler,  as  adj. 

serving  as  a  prop,  M.  P.  v.  177. 
Pilled,  //.  robbed,  L.  1262. 
Pilours,  .r.  pL  plunderers,  A  1007. 
Pilwe-beer,  s.  pillow-case,  A  694. 
Piment,  s.  spiced  wine,  R.  6027. 
Pin,  .f.  pin,  small  peg,  F  127,  316. 
Pinchen,  j^er.  to  find  fault,  H  74. 
Piper,  J-.  (J.f  adj.  suitable  for  pipes  or  horns,  M. 

P.  V.  178. 
Pissemyre,  i-.  ant,  D  1825. 
Pistel,  s.  epistle,  E  1154. 
Pitaunce,  i-.  portion  of  food,  A  224. 
Pite,  s.   pity;  pi'te  ivere,  it  would  be  a  pity  if, 

M.  P.  iii.  1266;   Pitee,  j.  pity,  B  292. 
Pitous,  adj.  piteous,  sad,  M.  P.  iii.  84;  pitiful, 

M.  P.  i.  88;   sorrowful,  M.  P.  vii.  9;  piteous, 

L.  904;   Pitouse,  /eiii.  full  of  compassion,  L. 

2582. 
Pitously,  adv.  piteously,  M.  P.  iii.  711;  full  of 

pity,  M.  P.  ii.  18;  piteously,  sadly,  pitiably,  B 

3729- 

Place,  s.  manor-house,  residence  of  a  chief  per- 
son in  a  village  or  small  town,  B  1910. 

Plages,  s.  pi.  regions,  B  543;  coasts,  quarters, 
As.  i.  5,  13. 

Piastres,  s.  pi.  plasters,  F  636. 

Plat,  adv.  flat,  B  1865;  flatly,  bluntly,  B  3947. 

Plate,  s.  plate-armor,  M.  P.  ix.  49;  stiff  iron 
defence  for  a  hauberk,  B  2055. 

Plated,  //.  plated,  covered  with  metal  in  plates, 
H.  F.  1345. 

Flatly,  adv.  flatly,  T.  iii.  786. 

Platte,  adj.  dat.  flat,  flat  side  (of  a  sword),  F 
162. 


Play,  s.  play,  amusement,  M.  P.  iii.  50;  Playes, 

//.  contrivances.  M.  P.  iii.  570.     See  Pley. 
Playn,  adj.  plain;   in  short  and  play  n,  in  brief 

plain  terms,  E  577. 
Playn,  s.  a  plain,  B  24;  Playne,  E  59. 
Pleding,  s.  pleading,  M.  P.  iii.  615;   v.  495. 
Plee,  s.  i)lca,  pleading,  M.  P.  v.  485;   Plees,  //. 

suits,  M.  P.  V.  loi. 
Pleinedest,  2  //.  s.  didst  complain,  Bo.  IV.  p 

iv.  188. 
Pleinte,  .?.  complaint,  lament,  B  66. 
Plenere,  adj.  plenary,  full,  L.  1607. 
Plentevously,  adv.  plenteously.  Bo.  II.  p.  ii  95. 
Plesance,  s.   pleasure,  delight,  M.   P.  iii.  704; 

pleasing  behavior,  F  509;   Plesaunce,  pleasure, 

M.  P.  iii.  767;  complaisance,  M.   P.  vii.  212; 

pleasant  thing,  M.  P.  iii.  773:  pleasure,  will.  E 

501;   kindness,  E  mi;  pleasantness,  L.  1373. 
Plese,  V.  please,  M.  P.  v.  478;  Plesen,  F  707. 
Plete,  V.  plead,  T.  ii.  1468. 
Pletinges,  //.  law-suits.  Bo.  III.  p.  iii.  77. 
Pley,  s.  play,  dalliance,  M.  P.  iv.   178;  delusion, 

M.   P.   iii.   648;    play,  sport,   diversion,  E  10, 

1030.    See  Play. 
Pleye,  v.    to   amuse   one's   self,    B   3524,  3666; 

Pleyde,  pi.  s.  played,  was  in  play,  M.  P.  iii. 

875;   V\e.yc,  ger.  to  amuse  ourselves,  L.  1495; 

to  amuse   herself,  take    a    holiday,    L.    2300; 

Pleying,  pres.  part,  amusing  herself,  F  410. 
Pleyinge,  adj.  playful.  Bo.  III.  m.  ii.  30. 

Pleyn,  adj.  open,  honestj  M.  P.  v.  ii.  p.  y. 

clear,  B  324;   Pleyne,  smooth,  M.  P. 
Pleyn,  adv.  plainly,  B  3947;  openly,  E  i-ij.;in, 
Pleyne,  z<.  complain,  lament,  M.  P.  ii.  108;   reji. 

M.  P.  vii.  237;  ger.  M.  P.  iv.  286;  v.  to  utter 

a  plaintive  cry,  to  whinny  (said  of  a  horse),.M. 

P.  vii.  157:   Pleyned,  //.  M.  P.  xxii.  76. 
Pleyning,  i.  complaining,  lamenting,  M.  P.  iii. 

599- 
Pleynly,  adv.  plainly,  T.  ii.  272. 
Pleynte,  i.  plaint,  complaint,  M.  P.  ii.  47. 
Plight,  //.  plighted,  M.  P.  vii.  227;  Plighte,  pt. 

s.  plighted,  L.  2466;   Plighten,  pt.  pi.   L.   778; 

Plighte,  //.  pledged,  C  702. 
Plighte,  //.  plucked,  I)  790;  pt.s.  pulled,  B  15. 
Ploungen,  ivr.  to  plunge,  bathe,  Bo.  III.  p.   ii 

53- 
Ploungy,  adj.  stormy,  rainy.  Bo.  I.  m.  iii.  11. 

Plye,  V.  bend,  R.  4389;  E  1169. 

Plyt,  s.  plight,  T.  ii.  712. 

Plyte,  i.  plight,  wretched  situation,  M.  P.  xxiii. 

19;  mishap,  M.  P.  v.  294. 

Plyte,  7'.  fold,  T.  ii.  1204. 

Poeplish,  adj.  vulgar,  T.  iv.  1677. 

Poetryes,  //.  poetical  works,  poems,  H.  F.  tt, 

Point-devys,  s.  point-device,  F  560.  „>« 

Pointe,  J.  dat.  point,  place,  M.   P.  iii. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


point,  on  the  point  of,  about  to,  M.  P.  iii.  13: 
at  point  devys,  with  great  exactitude,  very 
clearly,  H.  F.  917;  Point,  i.  point;  /ro  point 
to  point,  from  beginning  to  end,  B  3652 ;  point 
/or  point,  exactly,  in  every  detail,  E  577. 

Pointel,  i.  style,  i.e.  stylus,  writing  implement, 
Ho.  I.  p.  i.  4. 

Poke,  .f.  pocket,  bag,  A  3780. 

PoketS,  .J.  //.  pockets,  i.e.  little  bags,  G  808. 

Pokkes,  .f.  //.  pocks,  pustules,  C  358. 

Pol,  .f.  pole,  As.  i.  14,  10. 

Polax,  i.  pole-axe,  L.  642. 

Polcat,  .f.  polecat,  C  855. 

Policye,  s.  public  business,  C  600. 

PoUax,  s.  pole-axe,  A  2544. 

Polut,//.  polluted,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  314. 

Polyve,  J^.  pulley,  F  184. 

Pomel,  i.  crown,  top,  A  2689. 

Pomely,  adj.  dapple;  Pomely-gris,  dapple-gray, 
G  559- 

Pomgarnettes,  s.  pi.  pomegranates,  R.  1356. 

Pool,  s.  pole.  As.  i.  18,  22. 

Popelote,  .f.  puppet,  A  3254. 

Popet,  s.  poppet,  puppet,  doll;  spoken  ironi- 
cally, and  here  applied  to  a  corpulent  person, 
B  1891. 

Popiniay,  s.  parrot,  M.  P.  v.  359. 

Popped,//.  J',  bedizened,  R.  loig. 

Popper,  s.  dagger,  A  3931. 

Poraille,  .?.  poor  folk,  A  247. 

'"'■fie,  s.  Pry-r>,~^^-.V    Hi    i^-.  ». 
//.  pa.  ?"'"••  L-  1981. 
suro-  '^'  corollary.  Bo.  III.  p.  x.  186. 
pp„»urie,  s.  porphyry,  a  slab  of  porphyry  used 
as  a  mortar,  G  775. 

Port,  s.  bearing,  carriage,  M.  P.  iii.  834;  Porte, 
M.  P.  v.  262;  Port,  bearing,  L.  2453. 

Portatif,  adj.  portable,  As.  Prol.  ii.  91. 

Porte-COlyS,  s.  portcullis,  R.  4168. 

Porthors,  .r.  breviary,  B  1321. 

Portraiture,  .y.  portraiture,  M.  P.  iii.  626;  Por- 
treyture,  drawing,  picturing,  H.  F.  131;  Por- 
treytnres, //.  pictures,  H.  F.  125. 

Portreye,  v.  portray,  M.  P.  i.  81 ;  draw,  sketch, 
M.  P.  iii.  783. 

Pose,  i^.  cold  in  the  head,  H  62. 

Pose,/r.  s.  put  the  case,  suppose,  T.  iii.  310. 

Positioun,  s.  supposition,  hypothesis.  Bo.  V.  p. 
iv.  54- 

Possessioners,  s.  pi.  members  of  endowed  or- 
ders, D  1772. 

Possessioun,  i.  large  property,  wealth,  F  686. 

Posshed,  //.  pushed,  driven,  R.  4625;   Possed, 
//.  T.  i.  415;   Posseth, /^.  j.  pusheth,  tosseth, 
L.  2420. 
pg?ible,  adj.  possible;  possible  is  me,  is  pos- 

gjjf  for  me,  M.  P.  v.  471. 
Pees   ;  P'"3r,  support,  A  214. 


Postum,  i.  imposthume,  abscess.  Bo.  III.  p.  iv. 

15- 
Potage,  s.  broth,  C  368. 
Potente,  s.  staff,  R.  368;  T.  v.  1222. 
PoteStat,  .r.  potentate,  D  2017. 
Pothecarie,  j.  apothecary,  C  852. 
Pouche,  s.  pocket,  pouch,  H.  F.  1349. 
Poudre,  s.  gunpowder,  H.  F.  1644;  powder,  G 

760. 
Poudre-marchaunt,  .r.  flavoring  powder,  A  381. 
Pounage,  s.  pannage,  swine's  food,  M.  P.   ix.  7. 
Pound,//,  pounds,  F  683. 
Poune,  s.  pawn  at  chess,  M.  P.  iii.  661. 
Pounsoninge,  s.  puncturing,  I  418. 
Pouped,//.  blown,  H  go. 
Pouren,  ger.   to  pore,  H.  F.  1121;   i  pr.  s.  we 

pore,  gaze  steadily,  G  670. 
Pous,  s.  pulse,  T.  iii.  1114. 
Poustee,  s.  power,  R.  6484;   Bo.  IV.  p.  v.  15. 
Poverte,  j.  poverty,  H.  F.  88;  Povertee,  M.  P. 

iii.  410;  Poverte,  B  99;   Povert,  C  441. 
Povre,  adj.  poor,  B  116,  120;  as  s.  poor,  hence 

poverty,  M.  P.  x.  2. 
Povre,  adv.  poorly,  E  1043. 
Povreliche,  adj.  poorly,  in  poverty,  E  213. 
Povrely,  adv.  poorly,  A  1412. 
Povrest,  adj.  superl.  poorest,  C  449. 
Poynaunt,  adj.  pungent,  A  352. 
Poynt,  s.  point;   in  poynt  is,  is  on  'he  point,  is 

reody,  M.  1  .  1.  48;  fro  poynt  to  poynt,\Xi  every 

point,    M.    P.    V.   461;    a   stop,  G    1480.     See 

Pointe. 
Poyntel,  s.  pencil,  stylus,  D  1742. 
Practisour,  s.  practitioner,  A  422. 
Praye,  .f.  prey,  M.  P.  i.  64. 
Prece,  v.  press,  R.  4198. 
Preche,  v.  to  preach,  B  1179;  Prechen,  B  1177; 

Precheth,  itnp.  pi.  E  12. 
Predicacioun,  s.  preaching,  sermon,  C  345,  407. 
Preef,   .r.  proof,  experience,    L.   (A)   528;     test, 

proof,  G  968;  the  test,  H  75.     See  Preve. 
Prees,    s.    press,    thronging,    H.    F.    1358;    the 

throng  of  courtiers,  M.  P.  xiii.  4;   crowd,  M.  P. 

xvi.  40;   Pres,  press   of  battle,  M.  P.  ix.  33; 

Presse,  dat.  throng,  company,    M.  P.   x.  52; 

crowd,  T.  ii.  1718. 
Preferre,  pr.  s.  sjtbj.  surpass,  D  96. 
Prelse,  i  pr.  s.  I  praise,  F  674. 
Premisses,//,  statements  laid  down.  Bo.  III.  p. 

X.  137. 
Prenostik,  j.  prognostic,  prognostication,  M.  P. 

X.  54- 
Prenten,  v.  imprint,  T.  ii.  900. 
Prescience,  j-.  foreknowledge,  E  659. 
Prese,  Presen,  v.  press,  R.  2899;  Presing, /r. 

//.  R.  6436. 
Presence,   j.    presence;    in  presence,  in   com- 
pany, in  a  large  assembly,  £  1207. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


849 


Present,  «</?'.  immediately,  M.  P.  v.  424. 

Presentarie,  adj.  ever-present,  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  88. 

Presenting,  s.  offering,  L.  1135. 

Presently,  adv.  at  the  present  moment,  15o.  V. 
p.  vi.  1 38. 

Prest,  adj.  ready,  prepared,  M.  P.  v.  307;  ready, 
T.  ii.  7S5. 

Prest,  s.  priest,  B  1166. 

Pretende,  v.  intend,  T.  iv.  922. 

Preterit,  adj.  past,  R.  5011. 

Pretorie,  i.  the  Roman  imperial  body-guard,  the 
Pretorian  cohort.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  106. 

Preve,  v.  prove,  H.  F.  707;  bide  the  test,  G  645; 
to  prove  to  be  right,  to  succeed  when  tested, 
G  1212;  Preved, //.  tested,  G  1336;  approved, 
E  28;  exemplified,  E  856;   shown,  F  481. 

Preve,  s.  proof,  T.  i.  470,  690. 

Prevey,  adj.  secret,  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  137. 

Previdence,  s.  seeing  beforehand.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi. 

m;- 

Prevy,  adj.  privy,  secret,  unobserved,  M.  P.  iii. 
382;  close,  not  confidential,  H.  F.  285. 

Preyde, //.  j.  prayed,  L.  2294;  Preyed, //.  E 
773:   Preye,/r.  s.  pmy,  B  3995. 

Preyere,  .r.  prayer,  G  256. 

Preysed,  //.  praised,  L.  536. 

Pricasour,  s.  hard  rider,  A  i8g. 

Prighte,  //.  j.  pricked,  F  418.     See  Prik. 

Prik,  I  pr.  s.  spur,  rouse,  M.  P.  v.  389;  Prik- 
eth,/r.  .f.  excites,  L.  1192;  Priked,//.  spurred, 
G  561;  Prighte,  ft.  s.  F  418;  Prike,  2/.  .r. 
subj.  B  2001 ;  Prikke,  prick,  goad,  torture,  E 
1038. 

Prikinge,  s.  spurring,  hard  riding,  B  1965. 

Prikke,  i.  point,  H.  F.  907;  prick,  point,  critical 
condition,  B  119. 

Privee,  adj.;  prh'ce  man,  private  individual, 
Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  84;  secret,  privy,  closely  attend- 
ant, E  192;  privy,  private,  secret,  B  204. 

Privee,  adv.  privately,  secretly,  F  531. 

Prively,  adv.  secretly,  B  21. 

Privetee,  s.  secret  counsel,  secrecy,  B  548. 

Privy,  adj.  secret,  L.  1267,  1780. 

Proces,  s.  process  of  time,  M.  P.  v.  430;  argu- 
ment. Bo.  III.  p.  X.  67;  matter,  L.  1914; 
narrative,  history,  occurrence  of  events,  B 
351 1 ;  proces  holde,  keep  close  to  my  story,  F. 
658. 

Proeve,  s.  proof.  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  91. 

Proeve,  i  pr.  s.  approve,  Bo.  V.  p.  iii.  32;  pr. 
s.  shows,  Bo.  II.  m.  i.  19. 

Profreth,  pr.  s.  offers,  L.  405;  Profre,  2  pY.  s. 
subj.  mayst  proffer,  mayst  offer,  G  489;  Prof- 
red,  //.  offered,  E  152. 

Proheme,  .r.  a  proem,  prologue,  E  43. 

Prolaciouns,  .r.  //.  utterances,  Ho.  II    p.  i.  54. 

Prolle,  2  pr.  pi.  ye  prowl,  prowl  about,  search 
widely,  G  1412. 

31 


Proporcionables,  adj.  pi.  proportional.  Bo.  III. 
m.  ix.  22. 

Proporcloned,  //.  made  in  proportion,  F  192. 

Propre,  adj.  proper,  own,  T.  ii.  1487;  fine,  hand- 
some, C  309;  own,  peculiar,  B  3518;  0/ propre 
ktndf,  by  their  own  natural  bent,  F  610. 

Propres,  //.  own,  Bo.  I.  m.  vi.  22. 

Proprete,  s.  property,  peculiarity,  M.  P.  x.  69; 
Propretee,  property,  T.  iv.  392. 

Prospectyves,  j.  //.  perspective-glasses,  lenses, 
F  234. 

Prospre,  adj.  prosperous;  prospre  fortunes, 
well-being,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  70. 

Protestacioun,  s.  protestation,  L.  2640. 

Provost,  s.  prefect.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  72. 

Provostrie,  .r.  pr.aetorship.  Ho.  III.  p   iv.  98, 

Prow,  J.  profit,  T.  ii.  1664;  profit,  advantage,  C 
300;  G  609. 

Prowesse,  s.  profit,  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  80. 

Prydelees,  adj.  without  pride,  M.  P.  vi.  29. 

Prye,  v.  to  pry,  look,  peer,  G  668. 

Pryme,  j.  the  time  between  6  and  9  a.m.,  B  1278, 
^■i,%T,  fully  pryme,  the  end  of  the  period  of 
prime,  i.e.  nine  o'clock,  B  2015;  prymc  large, 
just  pa.st  nine  o'clock,  F  360. 

Prymerole,  s.  primrose,  A  3268. 

PryS,  s.  praise,  glory,  L.  2534;  price,  value,  esti- 
mation, B  2087;  fame,  A  67. 

Pryved,  //,  deprived,  exiled,  M.  P.  i.  146. 

Pryvee,  adj.  secret,  A  2460. 

Puffen,  V.  puff,  blovvSra?-^    H    V  -=Ji£^,^^^^  ^^   ^^ 

Pulle,  .f.  a  bout  at  wrestled;  refe^;^;^^^  Jyi,,  p,  y. 
164.  ^ ' 

Pulle,  V.  pliick;  puITe  a  finche,  pluck  a  pigeon, 
cheat  a  novice,  A  652;   Pulled,  plucked,  A  177.    ■' 

Pultrye,  i-.  poultry.  A  598. 

Puplisshen,  pr.  pi.  refl.  are  propagated,  Bo. 
III.  p.  xi.  153. 

Purchace,  v.  get,  obtain,  win,  M.  P.  xxi.  19;  ob- 
tain, T.  iv.  557;  imp.  s.  may  (He)  provide,  B 
873;  Purchaced,  //.  procured,  brought  about, 
M.  P.  xi.  17;  Purchasen,  ger.  to  purchase, 
acquire,  G  1405. 

Purchasing,  s.  prosecuting,  A  320. 

Purchasour.  .f.  conveyancer,  A  318. 

Pure,  adj.  simple,  mere,  H.  F.  280:  very,  M.  P. 
iii.  490;  utter,  M.  P.  iii.  1209;  the  pure  deth, 
death  itself,  M.  P.  iii.  583;  adv.  purely,  M.  P. 
iii.  loio. 

Purely,  adv.  actually,  simply,  only,  M.  P.  iii.  5, 

843- 
Purflled,  //.  embroidered,  fringed,  A  193. 
Purgede,  pt.    s.   expiated.    Bo.    IV^.   m.    vii.  4; 

Purged,  //.  absolved,  cleansed  (by  baptism), 

G  181. 
Purpos,  s.  purpose;   to  purpos,  to  the  subject, 

M.  P.  V.  26;  purpose,  design,  B  170;   it  cam 

him  to  Purpos,  he  purposed,  F  606. 


lu-" 


8so 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX, 


Purpre,  adj.  purple,  L.  654. 

Purs,  s.  purse,  F  148. 

Pursevauntes,  //.  pursuivants,  H.  F.  1321. 

Purtreye,  v.  draw,  A  96. 

Purveyable,  adj.  with  provident  care.  Bo.  III. 
m.  ii,  6. 

Purveyaunce,  s. ;  unto  his  puriieyaunce,  to 
provide  himself  with  necessaries,  L.  1561 ; 
equipment,  B  247;  providence,  B  483. 

Purveyeth,  pr.  s.  provides,  foresees,  fore- 
ordains, M.  P.  X.  66. 

Putours,  s.  pi.  whoremongers,  I  886. 

Putte,  ^cr.  to  put,  M.  P.  iii.  1332;  Put, /r.  s. 
{for  Putteth),  puts;  put  him,  puts  himself, 
L.  652;   Putte,  pt.  s.  set,  L.  675. 

Pye,  J.  magpie,  T.  iii.  527. 

Pyke,  V.  peep,  T.  iii.  60;  Pyke  on,  prick  against, 
T.  ii.  1274. 

Pykepurs,  .r.  pick-purse,  A  1998. 

Pyne,  i.  pain,  hurt,  M.  P.  v.  335;  place  of  tor- 
ment, H.  F.  1512;  suffering,  B  1080;  pain, 
suffering,  the  passion,  B  2126;  woe,  torment, 
B  3420. 

Pype,  J.  pipe,  musical  instrument,  B  2005. 

Pype  V.  to  pipe,  to  play  music,  H.  F.  1220; 
Pyped,  //.  faintly  uttered,  H.  F.  785. 

Pyrie,  s.  pear-tree,  E  2217. 


Quad,  adj.  .uX-  1981-  < 
Quaille,  i.  quail,  E  \2c 

Quaking,  pres.  part,  quaking,  F  ?r.7.:. Quaked, 
//.   B  3831 ;  Quook,  pt.  s.  quaked,  shook,  B 


Poi 


3394- 


^aakke,  .r.  hoarseness,  A  4152. 

Qualme,  s.  pestilence,  H.  F.  1968",  Qualm,  death- 
note,  T.  V.  382. 

Quantite,  s.  quantity,  vastness,  M.  P.  v.  58. 

Quappe,  V.  flutter,  T.  iii.  57;  heave,  toss  (lit. 
shake,  palpitate),  L.  1767;  beat  repeatedly,  L. 
865. 

Quayles,  gen.  pi.  quails',  M.  P.  v.  339. 

Queinte,  adj.  curious,  L.  2013. 

Quek!   int.  quack!   M.  P.  v.  499,  594. 

Quelle,  V.  to  kill,  C  854;  imp.  s.  may  (he)  kill, 
G  705. 

Queme,  v.  please,  T.  v.  695;  Quemen,  pr.  pi. 
T.  ii.  803. 

Quene,  i-.  queen,  M.  P.  i.  i. 

Querele,  //.  complaints,  Bo.  III.  p.  iii.  77. 

Quern,  i.  hand-mill,  M.  P.  ix.  6;  dat.  B  3264. 

Querrour,  .?.  quarryman,  R.  4149. 

Questemongeres,  s.  pi.  holders  of  inquests,  I 
797- 

Quethe,  pr.  s.  say,  cr>',  R.  6999. 

Queynt,   adj.    quaint,    R.    2038;    curious,    well 


devised,  M.  P.  iii.  1330;  Queynte,  skilfully 
contrived,  H.  F.  126;  curious,  hard  to  under- 
stand, M.  P.  iii.  531;  quaint,  curious,  F  369; 
Queynte,  //.  curious,  skilfully  strange,  M.  P. 
iii.  784. 

Queynte,  adv.  artfully,  H.  F.  245. 

Queynte,  //.  j.  was  quenched,  A  2334. 

Queynteliche,  adv.  curiously,  cunningly,  H.  F. 
I923- 

Queyntise,  .r.   elegance,  I  932;    contrivance, 
733- 

Quik,  adj.  alive,  M.  P.  iii.  121. 

Quiken,^cr.  to  make  alive,  quicken,  G  481. 

Quikke,  v.  quicken,  take  life,  burst  forth,  H.  F. 
2078. 

Quiknesse,  .s.  liveliness,  life,  M.  P.  iii.  26. 

Quinible,  s.  a  part  sung  a  fifth  above  the  air,  A 
3332. 

Quirboilly,  .r.  boiled  leather,  B  2065. 

QuiSShin,  .f.  cushion,  T.  ii.  1229. 

Quistroun,  j.  scullion,  R.  886. 

Quit,  adj.  free,  quit,  M.  P.  v.  663. 

Quit,  //.  rewarded,  H.  F.  1614;  Quitte,  pt.  s. 
rewarded,  requited,  L.  1918;  Quit,  pp.  set  free, 
L.  1992.     See  Quyte. 

Quitly,  adv.  freely,  A  1792. 

Quod,  I  //.  i^.  quoth,  said,  M.  P.  iii.  370;  Quoth, 
M.  P.  iii.  90. 

Quook,  pt.  s.  quaked,  trembled,  L.  2317.  Sp'' 
Quaking. 

Quoynt,  adj.  quaint,  R.  2038. 

Quyte,  7>.  requite,  recompense,  M.  P.  v.  ii' 
gfr.  to  remove,  free,  M.  P.  vii.  263;  Quyteti 
pr.  s.  rcquiteth,  payeth,  M.  P.  v.  9;  Quyte 
7'.  to  acquit,  free;  hir  cost  /or  to  quyte,  ti 
pay  for  h,.  expenses,  B  3564;  Quyten,  v. 
repay  (lit.  quit),  G  1027;  quyte  nvith,  to 
repay  .  .  .  with,  G  1055;  to  satisfy,  pay  in  full, 
B  354;  quyte  hir  uihyle,  requite  her  time  or 
trouble,  lit.  repay  her  time,  i.e.  her  occupation, 
pains,  trouble,  B  584;  i  pr.  s.  I  requite,  C 
420;  Quit,  //.  freed,  G  66. 


R. 


Raa,  J.  roe,  A  4086. 

Racyne,  s.  mot,  R.  4881. 

Rad, //.  re.ad,  G  211.     See  Rede. 

Radde,  //.  s.  advised,  M.  P.  v.  579;    i  pt.  s. 

read,  M.  P.  v.  21.    Pt.  t.  of  reden.    See  Rede. 
RadeVore,  or  Radenore,  s.  piece  of  tapestry,  L. 

2352- 
Rafte,//.  s.  bereft,  L.  1855;  Raft,  //.  taken  from, 

L.  2590;   Rafte,//.  .?.  reft,  B  3288.     Pt.  t.  and 

//.  of  re7ien. 
Rage,  s.  a  raging  wind,  A  1985. 
Rage,  7'.  play,  toy  wantonly,  A  257. 


GLOSSARTAL   INDEX. 


851 


Raked,  //.  raked,  B  3323. 

Rakel,  iidj.  hasty,  T.  iii.  429. 

Rakelnesse,  s.  rashness,  M.  P.  xvi.  16. 

Rake-stele,  j.  rakc-handic,  D  949. 

Rakle,  :>.  be  rash,  T.  iii.  1642. 

Ram,  -s.  the  ram,  the  sign  Aries,  F  386. 

Ramage,  adj.  wild,  R.  5384. 

Rammish,  adj.  ramlike,  strong-scented,  G  887. 

Rampeth,  pr.  s.  (Ut.   ramps,  romps,  rears,  but 

here)  raijes,  acts  with  violence,  R  3094. 
Rancour,  .f.   rancor,   ill-feeling,   H    y7;     rancor, 

malice,  E  432,  747. 
Ransaked,  //.  ransacked,  come  searching  out, 

M.  P.  iv.  28. 
Rape,  adv.  hastily,  R.  6516. 
Rape,  s.  haste,  M.  P.  viii.  7. 
Rape,  V.  snatch  up;   rape  and  renttf,  seize  and 

plunder,  G  1422.     See  Renne. 
Rasour,  j.  razor,  B  3246. 
Rathe,  adz>.  early,  soon,   H.   F.  2139;    Rather, 

coinp.  sooner,  M.  P.  iii.  868. 
Raughte,/^.  J.  reached,  B  1921. 
Raunsoun,  s.  ransom,  A  1024. 
Rave,  I  pr.  pi.  we  rave,  we  speak  madly,  G  959. 
Raven,  <•  raven,  M.  P.  v.  363;  the  constellation 

Corvus,  H.  F.  1004. 
Ravines,  .r.  //.  rapines,  I  793.  ■    - 
Ravinour,  s.  plunderer,  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  131. 
Ravisable,  adj.  ravenous,  R.  7016. 
Ravisshe,?'.  snatch  away.  Bo.  II.  m.  vii.  35;/^?"^ 

pres.  snatching  away.  Bo.  IV.  m.  vi.  44. 
Ravisshing,    adj.    enchanting,    M.    P.    v.    198; 

swift,  violent.  Bo.  I.  m.  v.  4;  destroying,  Bo.  I. 

m.  V.  69. 
Ravyne,  s.  ravine,  prey,  M.  P.  v.  323;  preying, 

ravening,  M.  P.  v.  336. 
Ravysedest,  2  pt.  s.   didst   ravish,   didst  draw 

(down) ,  B  1659;  Ravisshed, //.  ravished,  over- 
joyed, F  547. 
Rayed,//,  arrayed,  adorned,  M.  P.  iii.  252.   Short 

for  arrayed. 
Real,  adj.  royal,  L.  214,  1605.     See  Ryal. 
Realtee,  s.  royalty,  sovereign  power,  M.  P.  x.  60. 
Reame,  i.  realm,  kingdom,  L.  1281;   Reaurae,  L. 

2091;   R  3305. 
Rebekke,  s.  abusive  term  for  an  old  woman,  D 

1573- 
Rebel,  adj.  rebellious,  M.  P.  v.  457. 
Recche,  ?'.  care,  reck,  M.  P.  v.  593;  reccheof  it, 

care  for  it,  F  71.     See  Rekke. 
Reccheles,   adj.    reckless,    careless,    indifferent, 

M.  P.  V.  593;   regardless,  H.  F.  668;   Kecche- 

lees,  careless,  indifferent,  B  229. 
Receit,  .y.  receipt;   i.e.  recipe  for  making  a  mix- 
ture, G  1353. 
Rece5rved,  //.  accepted  (as  congenial),  accept- 
able, P.  307;   Receyven,  v.  to  receive,  E  11 51. 
Rechased,//.  headed  back,  M.  P.  iii.  379. 


Reche,  v.  reach,  give,  M.  P.  iii.  47. 

Reclaiming,  s.  enticement,  L.  1371. 

Reclayme,  v.  to  reclaim,  as  a  hawk  by  a  lure, 
i.e.  check,  H  72. 

Recomandeth,  pr.  s.  rejl.  commends  (herself), 
B  278;  Rccomende,  ger.  to  commend,  com- 
mit, G  544. 

Recompensacioun,  j.  recompense,  H.  F.  665. 

Reconforte,  v.  to  comfort,  A  2852. 

Recorde,  i.  testimony,  M.  P.  iii.  934. 

Recorde,  7'.  (to)  record,  recording,  M.  P.  v.  609; 
Recording,  pres.  p.  remembering,  recalling,  L. 
1760;  Recorde,  i  pr.  s.  remember,  remind,  A 
829. 

Recours,  //.  orbits.  Bo.  I.  m.  ii.  15. 

Recours,  j.  recourse;  I  wol have  my  recours,  I 
will  return,  F  75. 

Recovered,//,  gained,  won,  got,  M.  P.  v.  688. 

Recoverer,  i.  succor,  M.  P.  xxii.  3. 

Recured,//.  recovered,  R  4920. 

Reddour,  .?.  rigor,  M.  P.  x.  13. 

Rede,.§'cr.  to  read,  M.  P.  iii.  98;  v.  interpret,  M. 
P.  iii.  279;  advise,  M.  P.  xiii.  6;  \  pr.  s.  coun- 
sel, advise,  M.  P.  iv.  15;  Redde,  //.  j.  read, 
interpreted,  M.  P.  iii.  281 ;  Red,  //.  read,  M.  P. 
iii.  224;  Redeth,  imp.  pi.  read,  B  3650;  Rad, 
//.  read,  G  211. 

Rede,  adj.  red,  L.  112.     See  Reed. 

Rede,-^"!/-  c^s  s.  red,  i.e.  the  blood,  B  356;  red 
wine,  C''526^  ^^j-jiPprle.  t^Lxsii^^  i"?i;_    '1^ 

Rede,  adj.  made  of  reed;   referring  to  a  nil-  "^ 
instrument  in  which  the  sound  was  produce        91 
the  vibration  of  a  reed,  H.  F.  1221.  ^' 

Redelees,  adj.  without  reed  or  counsel;  '-5 
knowing  which  way  to  turn,  M.  P.  ii.  27.        '• 

Redely,  adv.  soon,  H.  F.  1392.  h> 

Reder,  j-.  reader,  M.  P.  v.  132. 

Redily,  adv.  quickly,  C  667. 

Redoute,  v.  fear.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  24. 

RedOUtinge,  s.  glorifying,  A  2050. 

Redresse,  imp.  s.  direct  anew,  reform,  M.  P.  i. 
129;  Redressed,//,  roused,  Ro.  IV.  p.  ii.  157; 
Redresse,  v.  to  set  right,  E  431. 

Reducen,  v.  sum  up,  Ro.  III.  p.  viii.  68. 

Redy,  adj.  ready,  E  299;   F  114;  dressed,  F  3S7. 

Reed,  adj.  red  (of  the  complexion),  M.  P.  iii.  47c--- 
Rede,  de/.  M.  P.  v.  442:  Rede,//.  M.  P.  i.  89,. 
Reed,  adj.  red,  B  452.     See  Rede. 

Reed,  s.  advice,  counsel,  plan,  M.  P.  iii.  105; 
profit,  help,  M.  P.  iii  203;  ivithoutc  reed,  for 
which  nothing  can  be  done,  M.  P.  iii.  587;  [can 
)io  reed,  1  know  not  what  to  do,  M.  P.  iii.  1187. 

Reed,  i.  red  color,  red  part,  L.  533. 

Reednesse,  s.  redness,  G  1097. 

Rees,  .<.  race;   in  a  rees,  hastily,  T.  iv.  350. 

Refect,  //.  restored.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  455. 

Referred,//,  brought  back.  Bo.  III.  p.  x.  202. 

Reflexiouns,  s.  pi.  ideas  due  to  previous  impres- 


852 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


sions,  H.  F.  22 ;  reflections  by  means  of  mirrors, 

F  230. 
Refreyden,  v.  cool,  T.  v.  507. 
Refte,  //.  i.  took  violently;    how  he   Turnus 

refte  his  lyf,   how  he  robbed  Turnus  of- his 

life,  H.  F.  457. 
Refuseden,  //.  //.  refused,  E  128. 
Refut,  J.  refuge,  safety,  M.  P.  i.  14,  33. 
Regals, /A  royalties,  royal  attributes,  L.  2128. 
Rogalye,  s.  rule,  authority,  M.  P.  ii.  65. 
Regard,  s.  relation;  at  regard  of,  in  comparison 

with,  M.  P.  V.  58;  to  the  regard  of,  in  com- 
parison with.  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  138. 
Regioun,  j.  rule,  dominion,  realm,  M.  P.  xv.  25. 
Regne,  i^.   kingdom,   realm,  dominion,  reign,  B 

389,   3g2,   735;    Regnes,  //.    B    129;    govern- 
ments, B  3954. 
Regneth,  pr.  s.  reigns,  M.  P.  iv.  43;   Regnen, 

pr.  pi.  M.  P.  iv.  50;   Regned,  pt.  s.  reigned, 

B  3845. 
Rehersaille,  s.  enumeration,  G  852. 
Reherse,  v.  rehearse,  repeat,  tell,  M.  P.  iii.  474; 

Rehercen,  L.  78. 
Rehersing,  s.  telling,  recital,  L.  1185;   Rehers- 

inges, //.  repetitions,  L.  24. 
Reighte,  //.  s.  reached,  touched,  H.   F.  1374. 

Ft.  t.  of  rechen. 
Reioyse,  ?'.  rejoice,  make  to  rejoice,  M.  P.  i.  loi ; 

Reioysed,  :  pt.  s.  refl.  I  rejoiced,  E  145. 
■  Ji'jkening,  .r.  reckoning,  accou".,  IvI.  P.  iii.  699; 
Qyg^ciiii-.fect judgment,  M.  P.  i.  132. 
Q„.eth,  pr.  s.  smokes,  reeks,  L.  2612. 
Q..»ever,  i  pr.  s.  {.{or future),  (I)  shall  retrieve, 
o  away,  H.  F.  354. 
PQv'kke,  2  pr.  pi.  care,  reck,  M.  P.  ii.  no;   Rek- 

keth,  pr.  s.  iinpers.  it  recks  (him),  he  cares, 
•    M.  P.  vii.  182. 
Rekne,  v.  to  reckon,  account,  B   no;  ger.   to 

reckon,  B  158;  Rekenen,  reckon,  count,  E  2433. 
Relayes,   j.   //.    fresh   sets   of  hounds,   reserve 

packs,  M.  P.  iif.  362. 
Relees,^.  release,  M.  P.  i.  3;  rela.\ation,  ceasing; 

out  of  relees,  without  ceasing,  G  46. 
Relente,  v.  melt,  G  1278. 
Relesse,  v.  to  relieve,  relax,  B  1069;   i  pr.  s.  I 

release,  E  153;  Relessed, //.  j.  forgave,  B  3367. 
Releved,  //.  raised  up  again,  revived,  L.  128; 

made  rich  again,  G  872. 
Relik,  s.  relic,  L.  321. 
Reme,  .?.  realm,  B  1306. 
Remedies,  s.  pi.  Ovid's  Remedia  Amoris,  M.  P. 

iii.  568. 
Remembreth,  pr.  s.  recurs  to  the  mind,  M.  P. 

iv.  150;   Remembre  yow,  i»ip.  pi.   remember, 

M.  P.  iii.  717. 
Remenant,  s.  remainder,  M.  P.  v.  271. 
Remeveth,  imp.  pi.  2  /.  remove  ye,  G  1008. 
Remewed,//.  removed,  F  181. 


Remorde,/?-.  j.  vexes,  plagues,  troubles.  Bo.  IV. 

p.  vi.  321;  pr.  subj.  cause  remorse,  T.  iv.  1491. 
Remounted,//,  comforted.  Bo.  III.  p.  i.  g. 
Remuable,  adj.  capable  of  motion.  Bo.  V.  p.  v. 

39;   changeable,  T.  iv.  1682. 
Remuen,  v.  remove.  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  59. 
Ren,  .f.  run,  A  4079. 
Renably,  adv.  reasonably,  D  1509. 
Rending,  s.  tearing,  A  2834. 
Renegat,  .f.   renegade,   L.    (A)    401;    renegade, 

apostate,  B  932. 
Reneyed,  //.   denied,  L.   336;    Reneye,  v.    re- 
nounce, deny,  abjure,  B  376. 
Renges,  j.  //.  ranks,  A  2594. 
Renne,  ger.   to   run,  M.    p.    i.    164;    Renning, 

flowing,  M.  p.  iii.  i5i ;  Renneth,  pr.  s.  runs, 

I.e.  arises,  L.  503;  spreads,  L.  1423;   rentieth 
for,  runs  in  favor  of,  B  125;   Ronne,//.  B  2. 
Renne,  ?'.  to  ransack,  plunder;  but  only  in  the 

phrase  rape  and  renne,  seize  and  plunder,  G 

1422.     See  Rape. 
Renomed,//.  renowned.  Bo.  III.  p.  ii.  138. 
Renomee,  s.  renown,  L.  1513. 
Renoun,  s.  renown,  fame,  L.  260. 
Renovelaunces,//.  renewals,  H.  F.  693. 
Renoveleth,  imp.  pi.   renew,  M.  P.  iv.  19;   Re- 

novellen,/r^r   <*/.  renew,  I  1027. 
Rente,  .>.  rent,  M.  P.  iii.  765;  rent,  i.e.  revenue, 

B  3401. 
Repaire,  v.  repair,  return,  F  589;  Repaireth, />-. 

.r.   returns,   F  339;   goes,   B  3885;    Repeiring, 

pres.  part,  returning,  F  608. 
Reparaciouns,  //.  reparations,  making   up,  H. 

F.  688. 
Repentaunce,  s.  penitence,  A  1776. 
Repentaunt,  adj.  penitent,  A  228. 
Repenting,  s.  ;  without  repenting,  so  as  to  ex- 
clude  any  after-repentance,   any   after-regret, 

M.  P.  iv.  17. 
Replet,  adj.  full,  replete,  C  489. 
Replicacioun,  i.  answer,   ready  reply,  repartee, 

M.  P.  V.  536;  involution.  Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  1S8. 
Reportour,  s.  reporter,  A  814. 
Reprehende,  pr.  pi.  blame,  criticise.  Bo.  III.  p. 

xii.  149;   V.  blame,  T.  i.  510. 
Reprevable  (to),  adj.  likely  to  cast  a  slur  on, 

M.  P.  XV.  24;   reprehensible,  C  632. 
Repreve,  s.  reproof,  shame,  C  595. 
Repreveth, /^.  i'.  reproves,  L.  1566. 
Reproeved,//.  stultified,  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  139. 
Repugnen,  i-v?-.  to  be  repugnant  (to).  Bo.  V.  p. 

iii.  7. 
Requerable,  adj.  desirable.  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  35. 
Resalgar,  s.  realgar,  G  814. 
Rescous,  i.  rescue,  T.  i.  478. 
Rescowe,  v.  rescue,  T.  iii.  857;  Rescowed,//.  s. 

rescued,  L.  515. 
Rese,  V.  shake,  A  1986. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


853 


Resolven,  /r.  //.  flow  out,  Bo.  V.  m.  i.  i ;  Re- 
solved,//*, dissolved,  melted,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  179. 
Resonable,  adj.  talkative,  M.  P.  iii.  534. 
Resoun,  J.  reason,  B  3408. 
Resouned, //.  s.  resounded,  F  413. 
Respit,  s.  respite,  M.  P.  v.  648. 
Resport,  V.  regard,  T.  iv.  850. 
Respyt,  s.  respite,  delay  (of  death),  G  543. 
Respyte,  ger.  to  refuse  to  do,  turn  away  from, 

despise,  M.  P.  vii.  259. 
Reste,  s.    rest,   F  355;    at  his    reUe,  as  in  its 

home,  M.  P.  v.  376. 
Restelees,   aiij.  restless,  C  728. 
Resureccioun,  s.    resurrection,  opening  (of  the 

daisy),  L.   no. 
Retenue,  s.  retinue,  suite,  E  270. 
Rethor,  s.  orator,  F  38. 
Rethorien,  adj.  rhetorical.  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  49. 
Rethorien  (written     Retorien),  s.  orator,   Bo. 

II.  p.  iii.  67. 
Rethoryke,  s.  rhetoric,  E  32. 
Retorneth,/;-.  i.  brings  back,  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  338. 
Retoming,  pt.  pr.  turning  over,  T.  v.  1023. 
Retourneth,  imp.  pi.  return,  E  809. 
RetraCCiOuns,  s.  pi.  recantations,  I  1085. 
Retreteth,  pr.  s.  reconsiders.  Bo.  V.  m.  iii.  64. 
Reule,  .r.  rule,  M.  P.  x    56. 
Reule,  V.  to  rule;   reule  hir,  guide  her  conduct, 

E  327. 
Reuthe,  s.  ruth,  M.  P.  i.  127. 
Reve,  J.  steward,  bailiff,  A  542. 
Reve,  ficr.  to  bereave,  rob  of  ;   re^'e  no  tnanfro 

his  ly/,  take  away  no  man's  life,  L.  2693.     See 

Rafte. 
Revel,  s.  revelry,  E  392. 
RevelOUS,  adj.  sportive,  B  1194. 
Reven,  v.  take  away,  M.  P.  x.  50;  Reveth,  pr. 

s.  forces  away,  M.  P.  v.  86. 
Reverence,  j.  reverence,  respect,  honor,  E  196; 

thy  reverence,  the  respect  shown  to  thee,  B 

116. 
Revers,  s.  reverse,  M.  P.  xviii.  32. 
Revesten,  pr.  pi.  clothe  anew,  T.  iii.  353. 
Revoken,  v.  call  back,  restore,  T.  iii.  11 18. 
Revolucioun,   i.    revolution,   revolving   course 

M.  P.  iv.  30. 
Reward,  s.  regard;   having  reward  to,  consid 

ering,  M.  P.  v.  426;   regard,  consideration,  L 

375- 
Rewe,  V.  have  pity,  L.  158;  to  suffer  for,  do  pen 

ance  for,  G  997 ;   Rewen,  v.  to  rue,  have  pity 

E  1050. 
Rewe,  s.  row,  line,  H.  F.  1692;  row,  L.  (A)  285 

.See  Rowe. 
Rewel-boon,  J.  (perhaps)  rounded  bone;  orelse 

rock-crystal,  B  2068. 
Rewful,  adj.  lamentable,  sad,  L.  1838;  sorrow 

ful,  sad,  B  854. 


RewfuUeste,  adj.  sup.  most  sorrowful,  A  2886. 
Rewledest,  2  pr.  s.  didst  control,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv. 

266, 
Rewliche,  adj.  pitiable.  Bo.  II.  p.  ii.  74. 
Rewme,  s.  realm,  R.  495. 
Rewthe,  s.  pity,  ruth,  E  579;  a  pitiful  sight,  lit. 

ruth,  E  562. 
Rewthelees,  adj.  ruthless,  unpitying,  M.  P.  v. 

6.3. 

Reyes,//,  round  dances,  H.  F.  1236. 

Reyn,  i.  rain,  B  1864,  3363. 

Reyne,  v.  rain,  M.  P.  iv.  287. 

Reynes,//.  reins,  H.  F.  951. 

Reysed,//.  raised,  M.  P.  iii.  1278;  ^^-n  to  raise, 
G  861 ;  Reysed,//.  made  an  inroad  or  military 
expedition,  A  54. 

Rhetorice,  Rhetoric,  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  52. 

Riban,  j.  ribbon,  used  as  pi.  ribbons,  H.  F.  1318. 

Ribaudye,  j.  ribaldry,  ribald  jesting,  C  324. 

Ribible,  j.  fiddle,  A  4396. 

Ribybe,  s.  old  woman,  D  1377. 

Riche,  adj.  pi.  rich,  B  122. 

Richely,  adv.  richly,  F  90. 

Richesse,  s.  riches,  wealth;  cf  knighthode  he  is 
par/it  richesse,  M.  P.  xviii.  12;  Wealth  (per- 
sonified), M.  P.  V.  261;  richness,  wealth,  L. 
1253;   riches,  B  107. 

Rideled,  //.  pleated,  R.  1235. 

Riden,//.  ridden,  B  1990;  pt.  pi.  rode,  C  968. 

Riet,  J.  the  net  or  perforated  plate  revolving 
within    '^'^1  tTiflthrr '    rf(  an^astrql/be,    A-i 

Right,  adz'.  precisely,  just,  exactly,  F  193.        y; 
Right,  s.  dat.  right;  iy  right,  by  rights,  B  ;?f 
Rightful,  adj.  righteous,  well-doing,  M.  P.  v.  5 
Right  that,  that  very  thing,  M.  P.  iii.  1307.  7. 
Rightwis,  adj.  righteous,  just,  L.  905;  Righ> 

wys,  L.  373. 
Rightwisnesse,  .f.  righteousness,  C  637. 
Rimpled,  //.  wrinkled,  R.  4495. 
Ring,  .f.  ring,  concourse,  L.  1887;  Ringcs,  pi. 

E  255. 
Rissbe,  i'.  rush,  R.  1701;  T.  iii.  1161. 
Rist, /r.  s.  riseth,  rises,  L.  810;  re^.  rises,  L. 

2680. 
Rit,  pr.  s.  rideth,  rides,  L.  1776. 
Roche,  s.  rock,  F  500;  Roches,//.  M.  P.  iii.  156. 
Rochet,  s.  rochet,  linen  vest,  R.  4754. 
Rode,  i.  dat.  rood,  cross;  iy  the  rode,  M.  P.  iii. 

924;  H.  F.  2. 
Rode,  i.  complexion,  B  1917. 
Rody,  adj.  ruddy,  red,  M.  P.  iii.  143;  ruddy,  F 

3?5- 
Roes,  s.  pi.  roes,  M.  P.  iii.  430.     Sec  Roo. 
Roggeth,/r.  .r.  shaketh,  L.  2708. 
Roghte,//.  s.  cared,  recked,  M.  P.  iv.  126. 
Roignous,  adj.  rotten,  R.  6190. 
Rokes,  gen.  pi.  rooks',  H.  F.  1516. 


854 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Roket,  s.  rochet,  linen  vest,  R.  1242. 
Rokke,  J.  rock,  M.  P.  iii.  164. 
Romaunce,  s.  romance,  M.  P.  iii.  48. 
Rombel.    Sec  Rumbel. 

Rombled,//.  j-.  rummaged,  fumbled,  G  1322. 
Rombled,//.  i.  made  a  murmuring  noise,  rum- 
bled, buzzed,  muttered,  B  3725. 
Rome,  V.  roam,  H.  K.  2035;   Romed,//.  roamed, 

gone,  L.  1589;   Ronien,  v.  to  roam,  13  558. 
Ron,//.  J-.  rained,  T.  iii.  640. 
Rong,//.  s.  rang,  M.  P.  v.  492. 
Ronnen,//. //.  ran,  M.  P.  iii.  163;  Ronne, //. 

run,  B  2.     See  Renne. 
Roo,  J.  roe,  M.  P.  v.  195.     See  Roes. 
Rood,  //.   .9.    rode,   E  234;    Riden,  //.   B  1990. 

See  Ryde. 
Roof,  //.  s.   rived,  pierced,    H.   F.    373;   //.  j. 

'  rove,'  pierced,  L.  661.    Pi.  t.  oi  Ryven. 
ROOS,//.  s.  rose,  L.  112. 
Roost,  s.  a  roast,  A  206. 
Ropen,//.  reaped,  L.  74. 
Rore,  s.  uproar,  T.  v.  45. 
Rose-garlond,  s.  garland  of  roses,  H.  F.  135. 
Rosen,  aJj.  made  of  roses,  R.  843. 
Rosene,  adj.  def.  rosy,  Bo.   II.  m.  viii.  7. 
Roser,  i.  rose-tree,  R.  1651,  3059. 
Rose-reed,  adj.  red  as  a  rose,  G  254. 
Roste,  V.  roast,  A  383. 
Rote,  s.  a  stringed  instrument,  A  236. 
Rote,  da/,  root,  L.  2613;   an  astrological  term  for 
^he  epqgli,  of  a  nativity,  B314:   tRy  radix,  the 
_  ^rt'r..'.,-) -.^^'pi'.iiciple,  G  1461 ;    foot,  source, 
Q,..558. 

^.e,  s.  rote;  dy  rote,  by  heart,  B  1712. 
oten,  adj.  rotten,  G  17. 
p^Ughte,//.  s.  impers.  it  recked  (him),  i.e.  he 
recked,  M.  P.  i.  171;  pt.  s.  recked,  T.  i.  496. 
See  Roghte. 
Roxiketh, /r.  .y.  cowers,  huddles,  A  1308 
Roum,  i.  room,  space,  L.  1999. 
Rouncy,  j.  hackney,  A  390. 

Rounde,  adv.  roundly,  fully,  melodiously,  C  331. 
Roundel,   j.    roundel    (poem),  M.  P.  v.  675;  a 

small  circle,  H.   F.  791. 

Roundnesses,//,  orbs,  orbits.  Bo.  IV.  m.  vi.  60. 

Rouned,//.  i.  whispered,  H.  F.  2044;   Roune,  v. 

V  hisper,   V>  2025;    Rowned,  //.  s.  whispered, 

F  216. 

Rouninges,  //.    whisperings,  H.  F.  i960.     See 

above. 
Route,  s.   rout,  crowd,  company,  band,  B  387, 

650,  776. 
Route,  7'.  to  assemble  in  a  company,  B  540. 
Route,  V.    rumble,   roar,  murmur,  H.  F.  1038; 

ger.  to  snore,  M.  P.  iii.  172. 
Routhe,  i.  ruth,  compassion,  pity,  M.  P.  iii.  592; 
a  pity,  M.   P.   iii.  looo;  lamentation,  L.  66y. 
See  Reuthe. 


Routheles,  adj.  unpitying,  M.  P.  vii.  230. 
Routing,   s.  whizzing  noise,  H.   F.   1933.     See 

Route,  V. 
Rowe,  adj.pl.  rough,  R.  183b. 
Rowe,  adv.  roughly,  T.  i.  206. 
Rowe,  s.  line,  H.   F.  448;   Rowes,  //.  rays   or 

beams  of  light,  M.  P.  iv.  2.     See  Rewe. 
Rownen,  v.  to  whisper,  G  894. 
Rowthe,  J.  ruth,  pity,  M.  P.  iii.  465.   See  Reuthe, 

Rewthe. 
Royleth,  pr.  s.  meanders,  wanders,  Bo.  I.  m. 

vii.  12. 
Royne, .?.  itch,  R.  553. 
Roynous,  adj.  scabby,  rough,  R.  988. 
Rubbe,  V.  rub  out,  M.  P.  viii.  6. 
Rubee,  j.  ruby,  H.  F.  1362. 
Rubible,  s.  kind  of  fiddle,  A  3331. 
Rubifying,  s.  rubefaction,  reddening,  G  797. 
Ruddok,  i^.  redbreast,  robin,  M.  P.  v.  349. 
Rude,  adj.  common,  rough,  poor,  E  916. 
Rudeliche,  adv.  rudely,  A  734. 
Rudenesse,  j.  rusticity,  E  397. 
Ruggy,  adj.  unkempt,  rugged,  rough,  A  2883. 
Ruled,//,  as  adj.  well-mannered,  L.  163. 
Rumbel,  .5.  moaning  wind,  A  1979. 
Rumbleth,/r.  s.  moves  to  and  fro  with  an  in- 
distinct murmuring  noise,  H.  F.  1026. 
Rum,  ram,  ruf,  nonsense  words,  to  imitate  allit- 
eration, I  43. 
Rused,//.  s.  roused  herself,  rushed  away,  M.  P. 

iii.  381. 
Ryal,  adj.  royal,  L.  (A)  146.     See  Real. 
Ryde,  v.  ride  at  anchor,  L.  968;   Ryden,  pr.  pi. 
ride,  E  784 ;   Rood,  //.  j.  E  234 ;   Riden,  //.   B 
iggo. 
Rym,  s.  rime  (commonly  misspelt  rhyme) ,  I  44. 
Ryme,  s.  rhyme  (better  rime),  L.  66. 
Ryme,  Z'.  tell  in  rhyme  (or  rime),  put  into  poetry, 

B  2122. 
Ryming,  s.  the  art  of  riming,  B  48.     See  Rym. 
Ryotoures,  s.  pi.  rioters,  roysterers,  C  661. 
Rys,  s.  twig,  A  3324. 
Ryse,  7'.  to  arise,  get  up,  F  375;   Rysen,  pr.  pi. 

rise,  F  383;   Roos, //.  s.  B  3717. 
Ryve,  V.  thrust,  L.   1793;   rive,  pierce,  C   828; 
tear,  E  1236;   Roof,//.  /.  pierced,  L.  661. 


S. 


Sable,  s.  sable,  black,  M.  P.  iv.  284. 

SachelS,  .?.  //.  bags,  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  94. 

Sacrifye,  v.  do  sacrifice,  L.  1348. 

Sacrilege,  s.  sorcery,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  315. 

Sad,  adj.  serious,  grave,  M.  P.  iii.  918;  sober, 
steadfast,  L.  1876;  .sedate,  fixed,  constant,  un- 
moved, settled,  E  693 ;  sober,  E  220;  Sadde,//. 
discreet,  grave,  E  1002. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


85s 


Sadel,  s.  saddle,  L.  1199. 

Sadly,  ai/v.  in  a  settled  manner,  i.e.  deeply,  un- 

stiminyly,  B  743;   firmly,  tightly,  E  tioo. 
Sadnesse,  s.  soberness,  staidness,  M.  P.  vi.  29; 

constancy,  patience,  E  452. 
Saffron  with,  to  tinge  with  saffron,  to  color,  C 

345- 

Saffroun,  i.  ,•  M-e  saffroun,  of  a  bright  yellowish 
color,  B  1920. 

Sakkes,//.  sacks,  bags,  L.  1118. 

Sal  armoniak,  s.  sal  ammoniac,  G  798. 

Sal  peter,  s.  saltpetre,  G  808. 

Sal  preparat,  i.  prepared  salt,  G  810. 

Sal  tartre,  s.  salt  of  tartar,  G  810. 

Salte,  adj.  pi  salt,  E  1084. 

Salued,  //.  s.  saluted,  R.  3610;  Salueth,  pr.  s. 
saluteth,  M.  P.  iv.  146;  Salue,  v.  salute,  greet, 
B  1723;  Salewed,//.  F  1310. 

Salvacioun,  s.  salvation,  M.  P.  iv.  213. 

Salwes,  J.  //.  willows,  D  655. 

Samit,  s.  samite,  T.  i.  109. 

Sangwyn,  adj.  red,  A  333. 

Sans, //(■/.  without,  B  501. 

Saphires,  s.  pi  sapphires,  B  3658. 

Sapience,  ^.  wisdom,  G  loi ;  //.  kinds  of  intelli- 
gence, G  338. 

Sarge,  s.  serge,  A  2568. 

Sarpulers,  i.  //.  sacks  made  of  coarse  canvas. 
Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  94. 

Sarsinessbe,  adj.  made  of  Satacen  cloth,  soft 
silk.  R.  1188. 

Sat,  pi.  s.  sat;  sat  OH  knees,  knelt,  M.  P.  iii.  106; 
hit  sat  me  sore,  it  was  very  painful  for  me, 
M.  P.  iii.  1220;  Sat,//,  s.  suited,  L.  1735. 

Sauf,  adj.  safe,  M.  P.  i.  27,  57;   B  343;  G  950. 

Sauf,/'-f'/.  save,  except,  M.  P.  ii.  50. 

Saufly,  ad-j.  safely,  with  safety,  H.  F.  291;  cer- 
tainly, E  870. 

Saugh,/;.  s.  saw,  M.  P.  i.  89. 

Saule,  .J.  soul,  A  4187. 

Sauns, /r*"/.  without,  H.  F.  188;  satins  faile, 
without  fall,  certainly,  H.  F.  429. 

Sauter,  s.  psalter,  R.  431. 

Sautrye,  i.  psaltery,  small  harp,  A  296. 

Savacioun,  s.  saving  from  death;  withoute  any 
Siivacioim,  without  saving  any,  H.  F.  208. 

Sa.\e,  prep,  save,  except,  B  3214. 

Save,  i.  sage  (the  herb),  A  2713. 

Save,  V.  to  save,  keep,  E  683;  3  imp.  s.  may  he 
save,  E  505,  1064;  Saved,  //.  kept  inviolate, 
Fs3i. 

Save-garde,  s.  safe-conduct,  T.  iv.  139. 

Saveour,  s.  savior,  M.  P.  xix.  16. 

Savetee,  s.  safety,  R.  6869. 

Savorous,  adj.  pleasant,  toothsome,  R.  84,2812. 
Savour,  s.  pleasant  t.iste,  liking,  pleasure,  M.  P. 

X.    20;    smell,   G   887;    pleasantness,    F   404; 

Savours,//,  odors,  M.  P.  v.  274. 


Savour,  imp.  s.  have  relish  for,  M.  P.  xiii.  5. 

Sawcefleem,  adj.  pimpled,  A  625. 

Sawe,  J.  saying,  H.  F.  2089;  discourse,  G  691; 

Sawes,  //.  tales,  H.  F.  676. 
Say,  V.  assay,  R.  5162. 
Say.  I  p(.  s.  saw,  M.  P.  iii.  806;  v.  211. 
SaylourS,  s.  pi.  dancers,  R.  770. 
Scabbe,  j   scab,  a  disease  of  sheep,  C  358. 
Scale,  J.  scale,  circle  under  cross-line  of  astrolabe, 

As.  i.  12,  3. 
Scales,  //.  scales  of  fish,  M.  P.  v.  189. 
Scalle,  s.  scab,  M.  P.  viii.  3. 
Scalled,  adj.  scabby,  A  627. 
Scantilone,  s.  mason's  rule,  R.  7064. 
Scaped,//,  escaped,  B  1151. 
Scarmishing,  j'.  skirmish,  L.  1910. 
Scarsetee,  s.  scarcity,  G  1393. 
Scarsly,  ad?',  scarcely,  B  3602. 
Scatered,//.  scattered,  G  914. 
Scathe,  s.  scathe,  harm,  pity,  E  1172. 
Science,  s.  learning,  learned  writing,  B  1666. 
Sclat,  i.  slate,  M.  P.  xi.  34. 
Sclaundre,  j.  slander,  H.  F.  1580;  ill  fame,  E 

722. 
Sclendre,  adj.  pi.  slender,  E  1198. 
Scochouns,  s.  pi.  escutcheons,  R.  893. 
Scole,  i.  school,  B  1685,  1694, 
Scoleward;    to  scoletvard,   toward    school,    B 

1739- 
Scoleye,  ger.  to  study^A  302. 
Scomes,  s.  pi.  fopjiv-Wrf^if^iJo.''  ^1~  j;*-'^'^"'"".' 
Scorkleth.  /r.  s.  scorches,  shrivels.  Bo.   II.  r.C  ' 

vi.  31  y; 

^corpiotin,  s.  scorpion,  M.  P.  iii.  636;  sign  of 

the  Scorpion,  H.  F.  948. 
Scourges,  i.  //.  scourges,  whips,  plagues,  E  1157. 
Scourging,  s.  correction,  M.  P.  iv.  42. 
Scrippe,  s.  scrip,  R.  7405. 
Scripture,  j.  inscription,  T.  iii.   1369;    passage 

of  writing,  L.  1144. 
Scrit,  .f.  writing.  T.  ii.  1130. 
Scrivenish,  ad7).  like  a  scribe,  T.  ii.  1026. 
Scriveyn,  s.  scribe,  M.  P.  viii.  i. 
Seche,  ger.  to  seek,  A  784. 
Secree,  adj.  secret,  trusty,  M.  P.  v.  395. 
Secree,  s.  a  secret,  B  3211;    secree  of  secrees, 

secret  of  secrets,  Lat.  Secreta  Secretorum  (the 

name  of  a  book),  G  1447. 
Secreenesse,  s.  secrecy.  B  773. 
Secrely,  adv.  secretly,  E  763. 
Secte,  .f.  sect,  company,  E  1171;  religion,  faith 

(lit.  following),  F  17. 
Sede,  V.  bear  seed,  M.  P.  vii.  306. 
See,  s.  sea,  M.  P.  i.  50. 
See,  s.  seat,  T.  iv.  1023;  seat  of  empire,  B  3339; 

//.  seats,  H.  F.  I2IO. 
See,  ger.  to  sec,  look  on;  on  to  see,  to  look  upon, 

M.  P.  iii.  1 177;  as/ut.  shall  see,  M.  P.  iv.  190; 


\ 


856 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Saugh,  pt.  s.  L.  i6;  Seigh,  L.  795;  Scy,  pi,  s. 
saw,  T.  ii.  277;  B  1,7;  Seyn,//.  seen,  B  1863; 
See,  3  imp.  s.  may  (He)  behold,  or  protect,  B 
156. 
Seed-foul,  J.   birds  living   on   seeds,   M.  P.   v. 

512- 
Seek,  adj.  sick,  M.  p.  V.  161;  Seke,  M.  P.  iii. 

557;  def.  as  s.  sick  man,  man  in  a  fever,  M.  P. 

V.  104. 
Seel,  ^.  seal,  B  882. 
Seel,  s.  happiness,  A  4239. 
Seemlinesse,  s.  dignity  of  bearing,  L.  1041. 
Seen,  v.  see,  B  182. 
Seestow,  seest  thou,  H.  F.  911. 
Seeth,  pt.  s.  seethed,  boiled,  E  227. 
Sege,  s.  throne,  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  318;  siege,  L.  1696. 
Seggen,  pr.  pi.  say,  T.  iv.  194. 
Seigh,//.  s.  saw,  L.  795. 

Seint,  .f.  saint,  B  1631;  Seintes,  ^i'M. //.  B  61. 
Seintuarie,  j.  sanctuary,  I  781. 
Seistow,  sayest  thou,  B  no. 
Seith, //-.  i.  says,  M.  P.  V.  22. 
Seke,  adj.  pi.  sick,  L.  1203. 
Seke,  7'.  search  through,  B  60;   Seken,  ger.  to 

seek,  i.e.  a  matter  for  search,  G  874;  Seken  to, 

I  pr.  pi.  come  seeking  for,  press  towards,  M. 

P.  ii.  91. 
Sekernes,  i-.  security,  M.  P.  vii.  345. 
Sekirly,  adv.  certainly,  L.  (A)  163. 
Selde,   adj.   pi.   seldon.     few;    selde  tyme,  few 
i:,^.p.^S.,.  ai..  :vj_    ,. 

p-elde",  adii.  seldom,  T.  iv.  423;  Ji    97. 

Seled,  //.  sealed,  B  736. 

Selfe,  adj.  self,  same,  M.  P.  v.  96;  Selve,  ver^, 
H.  F.  1157;  ihy  selve  neighebour,  thy  very 
neighbor,  B  115. 

Selily,  adv.  happily.  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  108. 

Selinesse,  s.  happiness,  T.  iii.  825. 

Selle,  V.  give,  sell,  A  278. 

Selly,  adj.  blessed,  delightful,  H.  F.  513. 

Sely,  kind,  M.  P.  iv.  89;  poor,  innocent,  M.  P. 
iv.  141;  innocent,  unsuspecting,  L.  2346;  fool- 
ish, hapless,  L.  1336;  good,  innocent,  B  1702; 
holy,  B  682;  innocent,  C  292;  silly,  simple,  G 
1076. 

Semblable,  adj.  like,  I  408. 

Semblaunt,  j.  appearance,  R.  3205;  Semblant, 
appearance,  look,  L.  1735;  outward  show, 
semblance,  E  928. 

Seme,/?-,  s.  suhj.  seem,  M.  P.  xiv.  13;  v.  seem, 
appear,  F  102;  .Semed,/^  .r.  ijnpers.  it  seemed, 
E  396;  him  semed,  it  appeared  to  them,  they 
supposed,  F  56;  the  peple  semed,  it  seemed  to 
the  people,  the  people  supposed,  F  201. 

Semelihede,  i.  goodliness,  R.  1130. 

Semely,  adj.  seemly,  comely,  B  1919. 

Semicope,  .?.  a  short  cope,  A  262. 

Seming,  j.  appearance,  M.  P.  iii.  944;  Seminge, 


J.  appearance ;  to  my  seminge,  as  it  appears  to 

me,  B  1838. 
Semisoun,  s.  low  noise,  A  3697. 
Senatorie,  .r.  senatorial  rank,  Bo.  III.  p.  iv.  loi. 
Sencer,  s.  censer,  A  3340. 
Sendal,  s.  a  thin  silk,  A  440. 
Sendeth,  2  imp.  pi.  send  ye,  C  614;  Sente,//.  .f. 

subj.  would  send,  B  1091;  Sent, /?■.  s.  sendeth, 

sends,  T.  ii.  1123. 
Sene,  adj.  visible,  evident,  manifest,  M.  P.  ii. 

94;  L.  340;  apparent,  F  645. 
Sene,  ger.  to  see,  M.  P.  v.  329;   to  look  at,  L. 

2649 ;  on  to  sene,  to  look  on,  L.  2425 ;  to  sene, 

to  be  seen,  to  seem,  L.  224. 
Senith,  .r.  zenith.  As.  ii.  26,  15. 
Sensibilitees,  s.  pi.  perceptions.  Bo.  V.  m.  iv.  8. 
Sensible,  adj.  perceptible  by  the  senses,  Bo.  V. 

p.  iv.  232. 
Sentement,  j.  feeling,  passion,  L.  69. 
Sentence,  s.    opinion,   decision,  M.  P.  v.  530; 

sense,  meaning,  tenor,  theme,  M.  P.   iv.  24; 

H.  F.  hoc;    decision,  speech,  M.  P.  v.  383; 

opinion,     B     113,     3992;     meaning,     subject, 

result,  B  1753;  judgment,  order,  I  17;   verdict, 

G  366;  general  meaning,  I  58. 

Septemtrioun,  i.  north,  B  3657. 
Sepulture,    s.    burial,    entombment,    L.    2553; 
sepulchre,  C  558. 

Sereyns,  s.  pi.  sirens,  R.  684. 

Sergeant,  j.  sergeant,  officer,  E  519. 

Sermone,  ger.  to  preach,  speak,  C  879. 

Sermoning,  s.  talking,  L.  1184. 

Sermoun,  s.  discourse,  L.  2025;  Sermouns,  //. 
writings,  B  87. 

Servage,  s.  service,  M.  P.  iii.  769;  servitude, 
thraldom,  bondage,  A  1946;  B  368. 

Servant,  j.  lover,  servant,  L.  1957. 

Servisable,  adj.  serviceable,  useful,  E  979. 

Servitute,  .y.  servitude,  E  798. 

Servyse,  .r.  service,  musical  performance,  M.  P. 
iii.  302;  service,  serving,  E  603. 

Sese,/r.  i-.  subj.  seize,  M.  P.  v.  481;  Sesed,//. 
caught,  M.  P.  iv.  240. 

Sesoun,  j.  season,  G  1343. 

Set, /r.  s.  setteth,  M.  P.  ii.  loi ;  putteth,  M.  P. 
iii.  635;  //.  appointed,  M.  P.  iv.  52;  ivel  set, 
seemly,  M.  P.  iii.  828;  Sete,  v.  were  seated,  T. 
ii.  81;  Setc,  pp.  sat,  L.  1109;  Sette  me,  i  pt.  s. 
put  myself,  placed  myself,  L.  115;  setten  hem, 
seated  themselves,  L.  301 ;  sette  hir,  sat,  B 
329;  sette  her  on  knees,  cast  herself  on  her 
knees,  B  638;  sette  hetn,  seated  themselves,  C 
775;  setten  hem  adojin,  set  themselves,  G  396; 
Set,//,  placed,  put,  B  440;  Seten,  pt.  pi.  sat, 
B  3734- 

Sete,  subj.  would  befit,  T.  ii.  117. 

Setewale,  s.  valerian,  R.  1370.    See  Cetewalc. 
yethe,  V.  boil,  seethe,  A  383. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


«57 


Seur,  (idv.  surely,  T.  iii.  1633. 

Seurtee,   s.    security,   M.    P.    ix.    46;   security, 

surety,  B  243. 
Sewe.^^r.  to  follow,  M.  P.  xiv.  4:  Seweth,  pr. 

s.  follows  as  a  consequence,  H.  F.  840;  Sewcti, 

//.  s.  pursued,  H  4527. 
Sewes,  i.  //.  lit.  juices,  gravies;  prob.  used  here 

for  seasoned  dishes,  delicacies,  ¥  67. 
Sewing,  tufj.  conformable,  in  proportion,  simi- 
lar, M.  P.  iii.  959. 
Sexteyn,  s.  sacristan,  B  3126. 
Sey,  I  /'(.  s.  saw,  M.  P.  iii.  1089;   Seyen,  //.//. 

M.  P.  iii.  842;  Seyn, //.  M.  P.  iii.  854. 
Seyl,  s.  sail,  A  696. 
Seyn,//.  seen,  B  1863. 
Seyn,  ?■.  say,  M.  P.  ii.  51;  Sey,  v.  tell,  M.  P.  v. 

126;  g'fr:  to  say,  M.  P.  iii.  1090;  To  seye,  to 

be  said,  M.  P.  ii.  21;  To  seyne,  M.  P.  ii.  77; 

Seystow,  ybr  Seyst  thou,  sayest  thou,  M.  P. 

X.  27;  Seyd,//.  B  49;   Seydestow,  saidst  thou, 

G  334. 
Seynd,//.  singed,  broiled,  B  4035. 
Seynt,  .f.  saint,  M.  P.  iii.  1319. 
Shad,//,  distributed.  Bo.  I.  m.  i.  19. 
Shadde,//.  j.  shed,  poured,  B  3921. 
Shad  we,  .r.  shadow,  shade,  M   P.  iii.  426;  scene, 

Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  98;   shadow,  B  7,  10. 
Shaftes,//.  shafts,  arrows,  M.  P.  v.  180. 
Shal,  I  />r.  s.  must,  am  to  be,  M.  P.  ii.  53;  /n  s. 

is  to  be,  H.   F.  82;   owe,  T.  iii.  791;  will,  L. 

1276:  I  /r.  J-.  I  shall  (do  so),  F  688;   Shaltow, 

shalt  thou,  A  3575  ;  Shul,  \ pr.pl.  we  must,  E38. 
Shale,  .f.  shell,  H.  F.  1281. 
Shalmyes,//.  shawms,  H.  F.  1218. 
Shamefast,  adj.  modest,  shy,  L.   1535;  Sham- 
fast,  A  2055;  C  55. 
Shames,  jfc«.  s.  of  shame,  L.  2064;  shames  deth, 

death  of  shame,  i  e.  shameful  death,  B  819. 
Shamfastnesse,  i-.  modesty,  A  840. 
Shap,  i.  shape,  form,  M.  P.  v.  373,  398;  L.  1747; 

G  44. 
Shape,  7'.  make,  devise,  M.  P.  v.  502;  ordained, 

M,  P.  xvi.  8;  Shapen,//.  built,  M.  P.  vii.  357; 

shaped,  L.  2629;   planned,  E  275;   prepared,  B 

249;    appointed,  B   253;    Shapeth  him,  pr.  s. 

intends,  L.  1289;   Shapen  hem, /r. //.  dispose 

themselves,  intend,  F  214. 
Shaply,  adv.  likely,  T.  iv.  1452. 
Sharpe,  ad^'.  sharply,  B  2073. 
Shave,  //.  shaven,  bare  of  money,  M.  P.  xix.  19. 
Shaving,  s.  a  thin  slice,  G  1239. 
Shawe,  s.  grove,  T.  iii.  720. 
Shedde,  pt.  s.  shed,  B  3447. 
Sheeldes,  s.  pi.  French  crowns,  A  278. 
Shefe,  i.  sheaf,  L.  2579;  Shecf,  A  104. 
Sheld,  .f.  shield,  A  2122. 

Shelde,/r.  s.  suhj.  may  he  shield,  II.  F.  88. 
Shende,  v.  ruin,  M.  P.  v.  494;   destroy,  H.  F. 


1016;   .Shente, //.  j.  put  to  confusion,  M.  P.  v. 

255;   Shent,//.  scolded,  di.scomfited,  spoilt,  R. 

2584;  defeated,  L.  652;   Shendeth, //-.  s.  ruins, 

confounds,  B  28. 
Shendshipe,  s.  ignominy,  I  273. 
Shene,   adj.    bright,    beautiful,   M.    P.    v.    299; 

bright,  fair,   L.   (A)   49;    showy,  fair,   B  692; 

bright,  F  53. 
Shene,  adv.  brightly,  M.  P.  iv.  87. 
Shepne,  .?.  //.  sheep-folds,  A  2000. 
Shere,  v.  to  shear,  cut,  B  3257. 
Shere,  s.  shear,  a  cutting  instrument,  scissors,  B 

3246. 
Shering-hokes,  //,  shearing-hooks,  contrivances 

for  severing  ropes  in  a  sea-fight,  L.  641. 
Sherte,  s.  shirt,  B  2049. 
Shet,  //.  shut,  A  2597. 
Shete,  ">.  shoot,  L.  635. 
Shete,  -t.  sheet,  G  879. 
Sheter,  s.  as  adj.  shooter,  useful  for  shooting, 

M.  P.  v.  180. 
Shethe,  s.  sheath,  L.  888;  B  2066. 
Shette,  pi.  s.  shut,  T.  iii.  1086;  Shet,//.  M.  P. 

iii.   335;    Shetten,  z'.   to  shut,  enclose;   gonne 

shetten,  did  enclose,  G  517. 
Sheves,//.  sheaves,  H.  F.  2140. 
Shewen,  v.  shew,  M.  P.  v.  168. 
Shifte,  T.  to  apportion,  assign,  G  278. 
Shilde,/r.  J.  snhj.  forbid  (lit.  shield),  L.  2082; 

Shilde,  3  imp.  s.  may  he  shield    m.T"  hf  <1efend, 

'>.  20  8  .  ~       ''  ^"'-■"eeisi.i..... 

Shine,  s.  shin,  leg,  A  386.  ^  ■ 

Shined,//.  i.  shone,  L.  2194;  Shynede,  L.  11 19; 

Shoon,  L.  1428. 
Shipman,  .r.  shipman,  skipper,  B  1179. 
Shipnes,  s.  pi.  st.ibles,  D  871. 
Shirreve,  s.  governor  (reeve)  of  a  shire  or  county, 

A  359. 
Shiten,//.  befouled,  A  504. 
Sho,  .f.  shoe,  A  253. 

Shod,//,  with  something  on  his  feet,  H.  F.  98. 
Shode,  X.  the  temple  (of  the  head),  A  2007. 
Shof, /^.  s.  shoved,  T.  iii.  487. 
Sholde,  I  pt.  s.  ought  (to  have  done  so),  M.  P. 

iii.   1200;   should,  B  56;  //.  s.  would,  B3627; 

had   to,  was  to,  G   1382;    I    65;    Sholdestow, 

shouldst  thou,  M.  P.  x.  60. 
Shonde,  s.  shame,  disgrace,  H.  F.  88;   B  2098. 
ShOOf,  //.  J.  shoved,  R.    533;  pushed,  M.  P.  v. 

154  :  drove,  L.  2412;  Shove,  //.  pushed  forward, 

brought  into  notice,  I,    1381. 
Shoon,  //.  s.  shone,  M.  P.  iv.  87;   B  11.     Pt.  t. 

of  Shynen. 
Sh0op,/A  s.  shaped:  shoopme.  shaped,  .addressed 

myself,  M.  P.  ii.  20:   made,  gave,  L.  2569;  s/toop 

him,   (he)   got    ready,    L.   625;     Shoop,   //.   s. 

plotted,  lit.  shaped,   B.  3543;    prepared  for,  E 

198;   created,  E  903;  contrived,  E  946. 


858 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Shortly,  adv.  to  be  brief,  in  short,  M.  P.  iii.  830. 
Shot-windowe,  s.  window  with  a  bolt,  A  3358. 
Shour,  J.  onslaught,  T.  iv.  47;  Shourcs,  //.  T.  iii. 

1064. 
Showting,  s.  shouting,  M.  P.  v.  693. 
Showving,  .t.  shoving,  pushing,  H  53. 
Shredde,  pt.  s.  shred,  cut,  E  227. 
Shrewe,  j.  a  shrew,  peevish  woman,  E  1222,  2428 ; 

evil  one,  G  917;  an  ill-tempered  (male)  person, 

C  496;   Shrewes,//.  wicked  people,  H.  F.  1830; 

wicked  men,  rascals,  C  835. 
Shrewe,  adj.  evil,  wicked,  G  995. 
Shrewed,  adj.  wicked,  L.  1545. 
Shrewed,  ad7'.  evil,  wicked,  H.  F.  275. 
Shrewednesse,  s.  wickedness,  H.  F.  1853. 
Shrift,  s.  confession,  M.  P.  iii.  1114;  Shrifte,  L. 

745- 
Shrighte,/^.  s.  shrieked,  F  417. 
Shryned,//.  enshrined,  canonized  (^ironically), 

M.  P.  xxi.  15. 
Shul,/r. //.  shall,  M.  P.  v.  658;  must,  M.  P.  v. 

80;   Shullen,  1  pr.  pi.  ye  shall,  G  241;  Shulde, 

\  pt.  s.  I  should,  I  ought  to,  B  247;  //.  s.  had 

to,  M.  P.  iv.  251. 
Shuldres,  j.  //.  shoulders,  M.  P.  iii.  952 
Shynede, //.  s.  shone,  L.  1119. 

Sib,  adj.  related,  akin,  R.  1199. 
Sicamour,  j-.  sycamore,  H.  F.  1278. 
Sicer,  J.  strong  drink,  B  32^5. 
Sighte,  s.  sigb'^L.  50;  lodic,  L.  1832. 

.i;.-;_-f -6=5  -'  _  a  J-  5^ 

(Vfdr,  adfTxn  security,  M.  P.  xvii.  28,   sure,  H. 

F.  1978;  secure,  L.  2660;  certain,  G  1047;  safe, 

G864. 
Sikered, //.  assured,  L.  2128. 
Sikerly,  adv.  surely,  truly,  M.  P.  iv.  59;    cer- 
tainly, H.  F.  1930;  certainly,  assuredly,  surely, 

B  3984. 
Sikirnesse,  .r.  security,  surety,  R.  7311;   Siker- 

nesse,  security,  confidence,  M.  P.  iii.  608;   x. 

69;  security,  safety,  B  425. 
Sikly,  adv.  ill,  with  ill  will,  E  625. 
Gimilitude,  j.  comparison;  hence,  proposition, 

statement,  G  431. 
Simphonye,  s.  an  instrument  of  music,  B  2005. 
Sin,  cotij.  since,  B  56;   E  448. 
Singular,  adj  ;  for  singular  profyte,  for  special 

advantage,  H.  F.  310. 
Singularitees,  s.  pi.  separate  parts,  particulars. 

Bo.  V.  m.  iii.  51. 
Singuler,  adj.  particular.  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  70;    a 

single,  G  997. 
Singulerly,  adv.  singly,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  85. 
Sinwes,  s.  pi.  sinews,  1  690. 
Sir,  s.  sir,  a  title  of  respectful  address ;  sir  man 

of  lawe,  B  33;    sir  parish  prest,  B  1166;   sir 

gentil  maister,  B  1627. 
Sis  cink,  i.e.  six-five  or  eleven,  a  throw  with  two 


dice,  which  often  proved  a  winning  one  in  the 

game  of  '  hazard,'  B  125. 
Sisoures,//.  scissors,  H.  F.  690. 
Sit,/r.  s.  sits.     See  Sitte. 
Site,  s.  site,  situation,  E  199. 
Sith,  conj.  since,  M.  P.  i,  77;  because,  M.  P.  iv. 

125;  sith  that,  since,  M.  P.  ii.  22;   since,  as, 

L.  409;   Sitthe,  since,  B  3867. 
Sith,  adv.  then,  L.  302;   afterwards,  C  869. 
Sithen,  rto'r'.  afterwards,  M.  P.  i.  117;  since,  M.  P. 

xxii,  51;   then,  next,  L.  304;  since,  afterwards, 

B  58. 
Sittand, />-.//.  fitting,  R.  2263. 
Sitte,  V.  to  sit,  M.  P.  iii.  451;  Sitten,  ^?r.  M.  P. 

iii.  449;   Sit,//-.  J.  sitteth,  sits,  L.  816. 
Sittingest,  sup.  adj.  most  fitting,  M.  P.  v.  551. 
Sive,  s.  sieve,  G  940. 
Skaffaut,  s.  scaffold,  R.  4176. 
Skant,  adj.  scanty,  sparing,  niggardly,  M.  P.  1. 

175- 
Skarmish,  j.  skirmish,  T.  ii.  611. 
Skars,  adj.  scarce,  M.  P.  ix.  36. 
Skile,  J.  reason;  grct skile,  good  reason,  E  1152; 

Skiles,  //.  reasons,  reasonings,  arguments,    F 

205. 
Skilful,  adj.  reasonable,  INI.  P.  iii.  894;   L.  385; 

discerning,  B  1038. 
Skilfully,  adv.  carefully,  particularly,  M.  P.  iv. 

155;  reasonably,  with  good  reason,  G  320. 
Skilinge,  i.  reason,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  168. 
Skille,   .r.    reason,    reasonable    claim,    L.    1392; 

Skilles,//.  reasons,  arguments,  H.  F.  750. 
Skippe,  T'.  pass  over,  L.  622. 
Skye,  i.  cloud,  H,  F.  1600. 
Slake,  ger.  to  slake,  assuage,  L.  2006;  Slake  of, 

V.  fail  in,  omit,  L.  619;  Slake,  v.  to  slacken,  de- 
sist from,  E  705;  to  cease,  E  137;  to  end,  E  802; 

Slaketh,/r.  j.  assuages,  E  1107;  Slakede,//.  j. 

subj.  should  relax.  Bo.  II.  m.  viii.  20. 
Sledes,  s.  pi.  sledges,  vehicles.  Bo.  IV.  p.  i.  87. 
Slee,  V.  slay,  M.  P.  iii.  351;   Sleyn,//.  M.  P.  iv. 

108;  Slawe,  //.  slain,  B  2016;    Slawen,//.  E 

544;  Slayn,  //.   B  3708;    Sleen,  v.  to  slay,  B 

3736;  ger.  E  1076;  Sleeth,  pr.  s.  slays,  E  628; 

Slow,  pt.  s.  slew,  B  3212 ;  extinguished,  B  3922. 
Sleere,  s.  slayer,  A  2005. 
Sleet,  s.  sleet,  L.  1220. 
Sleighte,  s.  cunning,  skill,  L.  1382;  contrivance, 

E  1102;  craft,  skill,  G  867;  Sleightes, //.  tricks, 

E  2421 ;  devices,  G  773. 
Slen,  V.  to  slay,  B  3531. 

Slepe,  s.  sleep,  F  347;  on  slepe,  asleep,  L.  209. 
Slepe,  ger.  to  sleep,  M.  P.  v.  94;   Sleep,  //.  j. 

slept,  went  to  sleep,  M.  P.  vii.  137;  Slepen,  v. 

to  sleep,  B  2100;  Slepte,  pt.  s.  slept,  E  224. 
Sleping,  s.  sleep,  L.  1333. 
Slepy,  adj.  causing  sleep,  A  1387. 

Slewthe.    See  Slouthe. 


./ 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


859 


Sleye,  adj.  sly,  clever,  T.  iv.  972. 

Slider,  adj.  slippery,  L.  648. 

Slit,  pr.  s.  sliiieth,  passeth  away,  M.  P.  v.  3. 

Short  for  slideth.     See  Slyde. 
Slivere,  s.  sliver,  part,  T.  iii.  1013. 
Slogardye,  s.  sloth,  slugKishness,  G  17. 
Slomrest,  pr.  s.  slumberest,  R.  2576. 
Slough,  s.  mud,  mire,  H  64. 

Slouthe,  s.  sloth,  L.  1722;  1?  530. 

Slow,  //.  s.  slew,  M.   P.   iii.  727;    H.   F.  268; 

Slough,  M    P.  vii.  56.     See  Slee. 
Slowe,  s.  moth,  R.  4751. 
Slowh,  pi.  s.  slew.  Bo.  IV.  m.  vii.  50. 
Sluttish,  adj.  slovenly,  G  636. 
Slyde,  7'.  pass,  go  away.  E  82.     See  Slit. 
Slyding,  adj.  unstable,  slippery,  G  732. 
Slye,  adj.  cunning,  crafty,   M.   P.   vii.   48;   //. 

skilful,  M.   P.   iii.   570;    artfully  contrived,  F 

230. 
Slyk,  adj'.  sleek,  D  351. 
Slyk,  adj.  such,  A  4130. 
Slyly,  ad?',  prudently,  wisely,  A  1444. 
Smal,   adj.    small;    a  smal,  a  little,  M.   P.  vi. 

113;   little,  H  1726;   Smale,  adj.  pi.  E  380. 
Smal,  ad-!',  but  smal  =  but  little,  F  71. 
Smart,  adj.  brisk  (said  of  a  fire),  G  768. 

Smelde,  pt.  s.  smelt,  H.  F.  1685. 

Smert, /r.  j.  smarts,  pains  (me),  M.  P.  i.  152; 
Smerte,  ger.  to  smart,  L.  502;  Smerte,  v.  to 
smart,  to  feel  grieved,  E  353;  pt.  s,  snfij' 
iinpers.  grieved,  F  564;  i  pr.  pi.  suhj'.  may 
smart,  may  suffer,  G  871.     Short  for  smerteth. 

Smerte,  s.  smart,  pain,  pang,  M.  P.  ii.  13;  H. 
F.  316;  smart,  dolor,  F  480. 

Smerte,  adj.  pi.  hard,  bitter,  painful,  M.  P.  iii. 

507- 
Smerte,  adz>.  smartly,  sorely,  E  629. 
Smete,  pp.  smitten,  R.  3755. 
Smit,  pr.s.  smites,  E  122;  Smiten,  //.  struck, 

M.  P.  iii.  1323;  Smoot,  pt.  s.  smote,  struck,  B 

669.    See  Smyte. 
Smok,  J.  smock,  E  890. 
Smoking,  prcs.  pt.  perfuming,  A  2281. 
Smoklees,  adj.  without  a  smock,  E  875. 
Smoot,  pt.  s.  0/  Smyte. 
Smoterlich,  adj.  smutty,  A  3963. 
Smothe,  adj.  smooth,  M.  P.  iii.  942. 
Smyte,  2  pr.  pi.  ye  smite,  F  157.     See  Smit. 
Snewed,  //.  j.  snowed,  abounded,  A  345. 
Snibbed,  pp.  snubbed,  reproved,  F  688. 
Snow,  J.  snow;  i.e.  argent  in  heraldry,  white,  1' 

3.=  73- 
So,  cpnj.  if,  provided  that,  L.  1319. 
So  as,  as  far  as,  as  well  as,  M.  P.  iv.  161 ;  so 

have  / /oye,  as  I  hope  to  have  bliss,  M.  P.  iii. 

1065;   So  as,  whereas.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii.  45. 
Sobre,  adj.  sober,  sedate,  B  97. 
Socour,  i.  succor,  M.  P.  i.  3,  10,  41,  55;  do  yoiu 


socour,  help  you,  M.  P.  iv.  292;  Socours,  help, 

I..  1341. 
Sodeyn,  adj.  sudden,  1!  421. 
Sodeynliche,  adv.  suddenly,  A  1575. 
Sodeynly,  adv.  suddenly,  H  15. 
Softe,  adv.  timidly,  M.  P.  iii.   1212;    softly,  E 

583;   tenderly,  1!  275. 
Softe,  adj.  gentle,  slow,  B  399. 
Softely,  adv.  softly,  F  636;   quietly,  G  408. 
Soiour,  s.  .sojourn,  R.  5150. 
Soiourne,  v.  sojourn,  dwell,  M.  P.   i.   160;    So- 

iourned,  //.  remained,  M.  P.  iv.  78. 
Soken,  s.  toll,  A  3987. 
Sokingly,  adv.  gently,  B  2766. 
Sol,  Sol  (the  sun),  G  826. 

Solace,  V.  comfort,  cheer,  amuse,  M.  P.  v.  297. 
Solas,  s.  rest,  relief,  B  1972;  diversion,  B  1904; 

comfort,  solace,  pleasure,  B  3964. 
Sole,  adj.  solitary,  alone,  R.  2955,  3023. 
Solempne,  «<//'.  festive,  M.  P.  iii.  302:  magnifi- 
cent, illustrious,  B  387;  grand,  festive,  E  1125; 

superb,  F6i;  illustrious,  F  iii. 
Solempnely,  adv.  with  pomp,  with  state,  B  317. 
Solempnitee,  j.  feast,  festivity,  A  870. 
Soleyn,  adj.  solitary,  R.  3896;  sole,  solitary,  M. 

F.  iii.  982;   unmated,  M.  P.  v.  607,  614. 
Som,  iitd.f.  pron.  one,  M.  P.   iii.  305;  another, 

M.  P.  V.  470,  rcme,  B   1182;    one,  a   certain 

man,  G  922;    som  sh^eive  is,  some  one  (at 

least)  is  wicked,  G  99  -■  ■  829. 
Somdel,  adv.  some>yh:.  ^1^/ ?■  '?;■'•  su'-s^eeisiM...., 

L.  1183;   partially,  lit.  some  deal, VrTbiw;*^* 
Some,  num.  pron.  one;    teuthe   some,    ten   in 

all,  T.  ii.  1249. 
Someres,  s  gen.  summer's,  M.  P.  iii.  821;  Som- 

crs,  L.  142;   .Someres,  B  554. 
Somer-sesoun,  s.  spring,  early  summer;  Bo.  III. 

p.  viii.  47. 
Somer-sonne,  s.  the  summer  sun,  M.  P.  v.  299. 
Somme,  s.  sum,  chief  point,  L.  1559;  Sommes. 

//.  G  675. 
Somne,  v.  summon,  D  1377. 
Somnour,  j.    an   officer   employed    to    summon 

delinquents  to  appear  in  ecclesiastical  courts, 

apparitor,  A  543. 
Somtyme,  adv.  at  some  time,  some  day,  at   a 

future  time,  B  no. 
Sond,  s.  sand,  M.  P.  v.  243:   B  509. 
Sonde,  i^.  sending,  message,  B  388,  1049;  dispen- 
sation of  providence,   visitation,   B  760,  826; 

trial,  B  902;   message  {or  messenger),  G  525. 
Sone,  s.  .son,  T-.  1130;    Y  688;  Sones,  //.  F  ag. 
Sone.  adzi.  soon,  B  709. 
Sone-in-Iaw,  s.  son-in-law,  E  315. 

Sonest,  adv.  sitperi.  soonest,  B  3716. 

Song,  I  //.  s.  sang,  M.  P.  iii.  1158;  Songen,  pt. 

pi.  sang,  M.  P.  iii.  301. 

Souken,  //.  &uuk,  iM.  P.  vii.  8. 


86o 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Sonne,  i^.  sun,  G  52;  Sonne,  ^en.  sun's,  B  3944. 

Sonnish,  adj.  sunny,  T.  iv.  736. 

Soor,  ad/,  sore,  F  1571. 

Sooth,  s.  truth,  B  3971;   Sothe,  dai.  B  1939. 

Sooth,  adj.  true;    used  as  adv.  truly,  C  636. 

Soothfastnesse,  j.  truth,  E  796. 

Soothly,  adv.  truly,  L.  460;    verily,  E  689. 
Soper,  s.  supper,  F  290. 
Sophistrye,  s.  evil  cunning,  L.  137. 
Sophyme,  j.  a  sophism,  trick  of  logic,  E  5. 
Sore,  ger.  to  soar,  H.  F.  531;  soar,  mount  aloft, 

F  123 
Sore,  i.  sore,  misery,  E  1243. 
Sore,  adv.   sorely;    bar  so  sore,  bore  so  ill,  E 

85. 
Sort,  s.  lot,  fate,  oracle,  T,  i.  76. 
Sorwe,   s.   sorrow,   M.  P.   i.   81;    sorrow,  grief, 

sympathy,  compassion,  F  422. 
Sorweful,  adj.  sorrowful,  L.  1832. 
SorwefuUy,  adv.  sorrowfully,  F  585. 
Sorwestow,  thou  sorrowest.  Bo.  I.  p.  vi.  90. 
Sorwful.  adj.  sorrowful,  M.  P.  ii.  25. 
Sorwing,  .r.  sorrowing,  sorrow,  M.  P.  iii.  606. 
Sory,  adv.  sorely.  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  112. 
Sory,  adj.  sad,  unfortunate,  B  1949;   ill,  C  876; 

miserable,  H  55. 
Sote,  adj.  sweet,  A  i;  F  389. 
Sote,  adv.  sweetly,  L.  261-3.- 
Sotel,  adj.  subtle,  cn-^ning,  M.  P.  xviii.  43. 
Soteltee,   s.^  sv'so;  lodskill,   M.    P.    xviii.    77; 

.-* '^'"i'  eZ-J  ■"  ?J"  5^^ ^ j^g.  L.  2546. 

-va>'^-.^i~".r.jki.i,  B  169.     See  Sooth. 
Sothe,  J.  truth,  M.  p.  V.  578.    See  Sooth. 
Sother,  adj.  comp.  truer,  G  214. 
Sothfastnesse,  s.  truth,  B  2365. 
Soth-Sawe,  .f.  true  tale,  R.  6130,  7590. 
Sotil,  adj.  subtle,  cunning,  L.  1556;  thin,  subtle, 

A  2030. 
Sotted,  adj.  besotted,  befooled,  G  1341. 
Souded,  //.  attached,  devoted,  B  1769. 
Soudiours,  s.  pi.  soldiers,  R.  4234. 
Souked,//*.  sucked,  been  at  the  breast,  E  450; 

Soukinge,  pres.  part,  sucking,  B  1648. 
Soulfre.  s.  sulphur,  H.  F.  1508. 
Soun,  .r.   sound,   musical    sound,  H.   F.  720;   E 

271 ;   vaunt,  L.  267. 
Sound,  adj.  unhurt,  L.  1619. 
I'jounde,  ger.  to  heal,  make  sound,  M.  P.  vii.  242. 
Soune,  V.  sound,  L.  91;  imitate  in  sound,  speak 

like,  F  105;    Souneth,/r.  s.  tends  (to),  is  con- 
sonant (with),  B  3157. 
Soupen,  pr.  pi.  sup.  F  297. 
Souple,  adj.  subtle,  obedient,  yielding,  B  3690. 
Sourden,  pres.  pi.  rise  from,  I  448. 
Soure,  adj.  bitter,  cruel.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  99. 
Soures,  i.  pi.  sorrels,  bucks  of  the  third  year, 

M.  P.  iii.  429. 
Sours,  s.  source,  M.  P.  iv.  174;  sudden  ascent. 


a  springing  aloft,  H.  F.  544;  source,  origin,  E 

49. 
Souter,  s.  cobbler,  A  3904. 
Soverayn,  adj.  chief,  M.  P.  v.  254;  Sovereyn, 

.r.  sovereign  lord,  M.  P.  i.  69. 
Sowdan,  s.  sultan,  B  177. 
Sowdanesse,  j^.  sultaness,  B  358. 
Sowe,  V.  sew,  fasten,  T.  ii.  1201. 
Sowen,  V.  to  sow,  B  1182. 
Sowled,//.  endued  with  a  soul,  G  329. 
Sownen,/r. //.  sound, /.<■.  play,  F  270;  Sown- 

eth,/r. //.  tend  (to),  are  consonant  (with),  F 

517;  Souned,/^.  //.  tended,  B  3348;  Sowninge, 

sounding,  M.  P.  iii.  926.     See  Soune. 
Space,  J.  opportunity,  I  64. 
Spak,  pt.  s.  spoke,  M.  P.  iii.  503. 
Span, /^.  s.  spun,  L.  1762. 
Spanishing,  s.  blooming,  R.  3633. 
Span-newe,  adj.  newly  spun,  fresh,  T.  iii.  1665. 
Sparand,  pr.  pt.  sparing,  R.  5363. 
Spare,  v.  to  refrain,  abstain  from,  A  192. 
Sparhauk,  j.  sparrow-hawk,  T.  iii.  1192. 
Sparow,  5.  sparrow,  M.  P.  v.  351. 
Sparre,  .y.  bar,  bolt,  A  990. 
Sparred,//,  i-.  locked,  R.  3320. 
Sparth,  s.  halberd,  battle-axe,  R.  5978. 
Sparwe,  j-.  sparrow,  A  626. 
Spece,  J.  species,  kind,  class,  I  407. 
Speche,  .t.  dat.  speech,  elocution,  oratory,  F  104. 
Special,  adj.  ;  in  special,  specially,  A  444. 
Spede,  s.  advantage;  for  comuiie  spede,  for  the 

good  of  all,  M.  P.  V.  507. 
Spede  me,  hasten,  be  quick,  M.  P.  v.  385;  Sped, 

//.    terminated,    turned    out,   M.    P.   v.    loi; 

Spedde,  pt.  s.  hastened,  L.   1096;    prospered, 

made  to  prosper,  B  3876. 
Speedful,  adj.  advantageous,  B  727. 
Speke,  V.  speak,  M.  P.  iii.  852;   Speken, //. //. 

spoke,  M.  P.  iii.  350;   Spak,/^  s.  E  295. 
Spekestow,  speakest  thou,  G  473. 
Speking,  J.   speech-making,  oratory,  M.  P.  v. 

488. 
Spelle,  s.  dat.  a  spell,  relation,  story,  B  2083. 
Spence,  s.  buttery,  D  1931. 
Spending-silver,  s.  silver  to  spend,  money  in 

hand,  G  1018. 
Spere,  s.  spear,  M.  P.  V.  135;  as  nigh   as  men 

may  casien  with  a  spere,  a  spear's  cast,  H.  F. 

1048. 
Spere,  i.  sphere,  orbit,  M.  P.  iv.   137;    sphere, 

F  1280. 
Spered,  //.  shut,  R.  2099. 
Sperhauke,  s.  sparrow-hawk,  R.  4033. 
Spete,  V.  spit,  T.  ii.  1617. 
Spicerye,  .s.  mixture  of  spices,  B  2043. 
Spille,  V.   destroy,   ruin,  M.  P.   ii.   46;    perish, 

M.  P.  vi.   121;   kill,  L.  1574;  ger.  to  destroy, 

L.  1917;  doth  me  spille,  causes  me  to  die,  M. 


CLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


86 1 


P.  vi    14;  Spilt,  pp.  lost,  M.  P.  i.  180;  killed, 
B  857;  s/'illestoiv  teres,  lettest  thou  tears  fall, 
Bo.  1.  p.  iv.  4. 
Spirites,  s.  pi.  the  (four)  spirits  in  alchemy,  G 

820. 
Spitously,  adv.  angrily,  A  3476. 
Spitten,  //.  //.  (or  pr.  pi.)  spit,  L.  1433.     The 

usual  pt.  t.  pi.  is  spctten. 
Spones,//.  spoons,  C  908. 
Spores,//,  spurs,  A  473. 
SpornC,  V.  spurn,  kick,  M.  p.  xiii.  11;  Sporneth, 

pr.  s.  tramples,  T.  ii.  797. 
Spousaille,  .r   espousal,  wedding,  E  iSo. 
Spoused,//,  espoused,  wedded,  E  3,  386. 
Spouted,//,  vomited,  B  487. 
Sprede,  ->.  spread,  open,  M.  P.  iv.  4:   Spradde, 
pt.  s.  covered,  M.  P.  vii.  40;   spread,  E  418; 
Sprad,//.  spread,  opened,  M.  P.  iii.  874. 
Spreynd,  //.  sprinkled,  B  1830.     See  Springen. 
Springe,  ?•.  spring,  be  carried,  L.  719;   Spronge, 
//.  sprung,  grown,  L.  1054;  Springe,  v.  rise, 
dawn,  F  346. 
Springen,  v.  sprinkle,  scatter,  sow  broadcast,  B 

11S3;   Spreynd,//.  sprinkled,  B  1830. 
Springes,//,  springs,  merry  dances,  H.  F.  1235. 
Springing,  s.  beginning,  source,  E  49. 
Springoldes,  .r.  //.  stone-hurlers,  R.  4191. 
Spronge,//.  sprung;  spronge  amis,  alight-^  in 

a  wrong  place,  H.  F.  2079. 
Spume,  V.  spurn,  kick,  F  616. 
Spycerye,  s.  spices,  L.  675. 
Spyces,  s.  pi.  spices,  F  291 ;  //.  spicery,  L.  11 10. 
Squames,  s.  pi.  scales,  G  759. 
SquaymouS,  adj.  squeamish,  A  3337. 
Squirelles,  s.  pi.  squirrels,  M.  P.  iii.  431;  Squer- 

els,  M.  P.  V.  196. 
Squyer,  s.  squire,  A  79;  Squyeres,//.  E  192. 
Squyie,  s.  measuring-square,  R.  7064;  Squyres, 

//.  As.  i.  12,  3. 
Stable,  adj.   firm,   motionless,  M.  P.    iii.    645; 
constant,  firm,  I..  703;  not  eas'!:;  moved,    L. 
346:   constant,  E  931.  '"^v'^'^o^'t,./ 
Stablissed,//.  establ!    ^-^  atf^-iS- 
Stadie,  .f.  race  cours       -.0.  IV.  p.  iii.  12. 
Staf-Slinge,  s.  a  staif-sling,  B  2019. 
Stak,//   i   stuck,  T.  iii.  1372. 
Stakereth,  pr.  s.  staggers,  L.  2687. 
Stal,//  i.  stole,  came  cunningly,  H.  F.  418;   i 

//.  s.  went  softly,  L.  796. 
Stalke,  7'.  move  stealthily,  T,.   1781;   Stalked,  i 
//    J.   stalked,    crept  quietly,    M.   P.   iii.   458; 
Stalked  him,  pt.  s.  walked  slowly,  E  525. 
Stamin,  s.  a  kind  of  woollen  cloth,  L   2360. 
Stampe,  pr.  pi.  stamp,  bray  in  a  mortar,  C  538. 
Stank,  i^,  pool,  I  841. 
Stant,  pr.  s.   slandcth,  H.  F.  713;  consists,  M. 

P.  xiii.  10;  stands,  L   2245;  is,  B  3116. 
Stape,  Stapen,//.  advanced,  B  4011. 


stare,  s.  starling,  M.  P.  v.  348. 

Starf,  //.  s.  died,   B   283.     Pt.  t.  of  Sterven. 

Sec  Sterve. 
Starke,  adj.  pi.  strong,  H.  F.  545 :  severe,  B  3560. 
Startling,  pres  pt.  moving  suddenly,  L.  1204. 
Stature,  s.  being,  existence,  M.  P.  v.  366. 
Statut,  s.  statute,  ordinance,  M.  P.  x.  43. 
Staunchen,  v.  satisfy.  Bo.  III.  m.  iii.  3. 
Staves,  ;jr<^«.  of  the  shaft  of  a  car,  M.  P.  vii.  184. 
Stede,  s.  steed,  F  81. 
Stede,  s.  place,  H.  F.  731 ;  in  stede  of,  in  stead 

of,  1!  3308. 
Stedfastnesse,  s.  steadfastness,  firmness,  E  699. 
Stedfastly,  adv   assuredly,  E  1094. 
Steel,  s.  steel,  T.  ii.  593. 
Steer,  s.  a  yearling  bullock,  A  2149. 
Steked,//.  stuck,  L.  (A)  161. 
Stel,  s.  steel,  M.  P.  v.  395. 
Stele,  s.  handle,  A  3785. 
Stele,  V.  to  steal,  B  105:   Steleth,  pr.  s.  steals 

away,  B  21;  Stal,//.  i.  stole  away,  B  3763. 
Stellifye,  pr.  s.  subj.  make  into  a  star  or  con- 
stellation, L.  525. 
Stemed,//.  j.  shone,  A  202. 

Stente,//.  s.  stopped,  ceased,  L.  1240;  remained, 
L.  821;  del.iyed,  L.  633;  Stente,  v.  to  cease, 
stint,  leave  off,  B  3925. 
Si.pe.  adj.  pi.  bright,  glittering,  A  201. 
Steppes,//.  footsteps^A^  829. 
Stere,  s.  rudder,  guTde,  NtxP.  xy'.  "u^cfeersman, 

guide,  T.  iii.   1291;    ruddei  1.',^^^,^ '         ,  m'-^  \ 

helmsman,  B  448. 
Stere,  v.  discuss,  T.  iv.  1451. 
Stere,  v.   steer,  guide,  T.  iii.  910;    Stered,  //. 

controlled,  L.  935. 
Stere,  v.  stir,  move,  H.  F.  567:  Stereth,  pr.  s. 
stirs,  H.  F.  817;  Stering, /r.  pi.  moving,  H. 
F.  478. 
Sterelees,  adj.  rudderless,  B  439. 
Steresraan,  s.  steersman,  H.  F.  436. 
Steringe,  s.  stirring,  motion,  H.  F.  800. 
Sterlinges,  //.  sterling  coins,  C  907. 
Sterre,  j^.  star,  M.  P.  v.  68,  300;  Sterres,  ^r^..  pi. 

of  the  stars,  E  1124. 

Sterry,  adj.  starry,  full  of  stars,  M.  P.  v.  43. 

Stert,  pr.  s.  starteth,  rouses,  H.  F.  681;  Sterte, 

//.  J.  started,  L.  851;   rushed,  L.   811;  leapt, 

L.  697;   went  at  once,  L.  660;   Sterting,  pres. 

pt.  bursting  suddenly,  L.  1741;  Sterte,  t.  pass 

aw.ay,  B  335 ;  pr.  pi  start,  rise  quickly,  C  705. 

Sterve,  v.  die,  M.  P.  iii.  1266;  die  of  famine,  C 

451;  g'er.  to  die,  L.  605;  Starf,  //.  s.  died,  B 

3325- 

Steven,  s.  voice,  sound,  M.  P.  iii.  307:  appoint- 
ment, meeting  by  appointment,  M.  P.  iv.  52; 
Stevene,  voice,  language,  F  150. 

Stewe,  s.  closet,  T.  iii.  601;  brothel,  H.  F.  26; 
a  fish-pond,  A  350. 


862 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Steyre,  j.  degree  (translation  of gradus),'iA.  P. 

iv.  129;   stair,  T.  ii.  1705. 
Stiborn,  aifj.  stubborn,  D  456. 
Stikke,  J.  stick,  twig,  M.  P.  i.  90. 
Stikked,/;".  s.  stuck,  fixed,  L.  2202;  Steked,//. 

L.  (A)  161;   Stiked,//.  J.  stuck,  fixed,  B  2097; 

Stikede,  pierced,  B3897;   Stiked, //.  stabbed, 

B  430;  a  silked  S7vyn,  a  stuck  pig,  C  556. 
vStillatorie,  j.   still,  vessel  used  in  distillation, 

O  580. 
Stille,  adv.  quietly,  L.  816. 
Stingeth,  f>r.  s.  pierces,  L.  645. 
Stinte,  V.  stay,  stop,  cause  to  cease,  M.  P.  i.  63; 

leave  off,  M.  P  vi  43;  i  pr.  s.  leave  off  telling, 

H.  F.   1417;  Stinte,  pi.  s.  stopped,  was  silent, 

M.  P.  iii.  1299;  Stinting,  pres.  pt.   stopping, 

M.   P.   iii.   1213;    Stinten,   v.   stop,   avert,  L. 

1647- 
Stintinge,  J.  ceasing,  end.  Bo.  II.  m.  vii.  40. 
Stire,  V.  to  stir,  move,  C  346. 
Stiropes,  s.pl.  stirrups,  B  1163. 
Stith,  s.  anvil,  A  2026. 
Stok,  J.  stock,  source,  M.  P.  xiv.  i. 
Stoke,  V.  stab,  A  2546. 
Stokked,  //.  set  in  the  stocks,  T.  iii.  380. 
Stole,//,  stolen,  L.  2154. 

Stole,  s   sto.)l,  frame  for  tapestry  work,  L.  2352. 
Stonde,  V.  stand,  M.  P.  v.  254;   Stondeth,  fr.: 

M.  P.  ii.  64;  Stoden,^^//.  stood,  M.  P.  ii.  36 

Stonden—  aj-<oodi  M.  P.  in.  975;   H.  F.  1928 
-v»r~^j^.;~ ".•..<  >  Jj  fyti-t  st07ide,  finds  standing, 

L.  1499;  be  understood,  be  fixed,  E  346;  be  set 

in  view  (as  a  prize  at  a  game),  B  1931 ;  Stode, 

stood,  B  176. 
Stongen,  //.  stung,  A  1079. 
Stoon,  s.  stone,  M.  P.  ii.  16;  Stones,//,  precious 

stones,  M.  P.  iii.  980. 
Stoor,  J.  store,  farm-stock,  C  365. 
Stopen,//.  advanced,  E  1514. 
Store,  adj.  stubborn,  E  2367. 
Storial,    adj.    historical,    L.    (A)    307;    siorial 

sooth,  historical  truth,  L.  702. 
Swrie.  .f.  tale,  history,  B  3900. 
Stot,  s.  stc,;;ion,  A  615. 
Stounde,  s.  a  short  time,  M.  P.  v.   142;    time, 

hour,  M.  P.  vii.  238;  space  of  time,  H.  F.  2071; 

moment,  L.  949;  short  time,  B  1021. 
Stoundemele,  adv.  momently,  R.  2304;    T.  v. 

(.74 
Stoupe.  ger.  to  stoop,  G  1311. 
Stour,  .f.  conflict,  R.  1270;   Stoures,  //.  battles, 

combats,  B  3560. 
Stout,  adj.  strong,  A  545. 
Strake,  v.  move,  proceed,  M.  P.  iii.  1312. 
Strange,  def  adj.  strange,  F  89. 
Strangling,  verbal  s.  strangling;  of  strangling, 

caused  by  strangling,  L.  807. 
Straughte,  pt.  s.  stretched,  A  2916. 


Straunge,  adj.  distant,  unbending,  M.  P.  v.  584; 

strange,  foreign,  A  13. 
Straw,  interj.  a  straw!  F  695. 
Strawen,  v.  strew,  L.  207 ;  Strawe,  2  pr.  s.  subj. 

strew,  F  613. 
Strayte,  s.  strait,  B  464. 
StreCChe,  v.  reach,  M.  p.  vii.  341;  stretch,  T.  i. 

888.    See  Streighte. 
Stree,  s.  straw,  M.  p.  iii.  671;   Stre,  H.  F.  363. 
Streem,  .;.  stream,  river,  A  464. 
Streen,  j.  strain,  i.e.  stock,  progeny,  race,  E  157. 
Streighte,  adv.  straight,  H.  F.  1992. 
Streighte,  //.  s.  stretched,  H.  F.  1373.     Pt.  t. 

of  Strecchen. 
Streit,  adj.  narrow,  A  174. 
Streite,  adv.  strictly,  L.  723. 
Streite,//.  as  adj.  def.  drawn,  B  4547. 
Stremes,//.  streams,  rays,  beams,  B  3944. 
Strene,  f.  race,  lineage,  R.  4859. 
Stronger,  adj.  comp.  stronger,  B  3711. 
Strenges,//.  strings,  T.  i.  732. 
Strengthes, //.  sources  of  strength,  B  3248. 
Strepeth,  pr.  s.  strips,  E  894;    Strepen,  //.  E 

iii5. 
Strete,  j.  street,  road,  way,  M.  P.  i.  70. 
Streyneth,/>-.  J.  constrains,  L.  2684;  Streyne, 

V.  constrain,  E  144. 
Str'.'-e, //.  struck,  M.  P.  xi.  35. 
Strike,  .f.  hank  (of  flax),  A  676. 
Strogelest,  2/r.  j.  strugglest,  C  829. 
Strompetes,  s.  pi.  strumpets.  Bo.  I.  p.  i,  60. 
Stronde,  j.  shore,  L.  2205 ;  B  825. 
Stroof ,  //.  s.  strove,  A  1038. 
Strook,  .f.  a  stroke,  B  3899. 
Strouted,/^.  s.  spread,  A  3315. 
Strowe,  V.  strew,  L.  (A)  loi. 
Stroyer,  j.  destroyer,  M.  P.  v.  360. 
Stryf,  s.  quarrel,  strife;   took  stryf,  took  up  the 

cudgels.  Bo.  I.  p.  iv.  105. 
Strykes,  //.  strokes.  As.  i.  19,  2. 
Stryve,  v.  to  strive,  oppose,  E  170. 
Stubbes,  J.  //.  stumps,  A  1978. 
Studien,  v.  to  study,  E  8;  Studie,  2  pr.  pi.  E 

5- 

Studies,  //.  endeavors.  Bo.  III.  p.  ii.  105;  de- 
sires, Bo.  IV.  p.  ii,  61. 

Sturdinesse,  j.  sternness,  E  700. 

Sturdy,  adj.  cruel,  stern,  E  698,  1049. 

Stye,  gcr.  to  mount  up,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  456. 

Style,  s.  stile,  gate  to  climb  over,  C  712;   F  106. 

Style,  J.  style,  mode  of  writing,  E  18,  41. 

Styves,  .f.  pi.  stews,  brothels,  D  1332. 

Styward,  .1.  steward,  B  914. 

Suasioun,  s.  persuasiveness.  Bo.  II.  p.  i.  48. 

SubgetS,  s.  pi.  subjects,  E  482. 

Subieccioun,  .r.  subjection,  service,  submission, 
M.  P.  iv.  32;  subjection,  obedience,  B  270; 
subjection,  governance,  B  3656. 


r.LOSSARTAI,    INDEX. 


863 


Sublymatories,  s.  //.  vessels  for  sublimation,  O 

79.!  • 
Sublymed,//.  sublimed,  sublimated,  G  774. 
Sublyming.  s.  sublimation,  G  770. 
Submitted,//,  subjected,  Ro.  V,  p.  i.  49;  ye  ben 

sul>»iitteJ,  ye  have  submitted,  B  35. 
Subtil,  adj.  finely  woven,  M.  P.  v.  272;  skilful, 

L.  672. 
Subtilly,  ath>.  subtly,  F  2*22. 
Subtiltee,  s.  subtlety,  specious  reasoning,  H.  F. 

855;    skill,  craft,  G  844;    Subtilitce,  subtlety, 

craft,  secret  knowledge,  G  620.     See  Soteltee. 
Succedent,   s.   subordinate  house  in  astrology, 

As.  ii    4,  52. 
Sucred,//.  sugared,  T.  ii.  384. 
Suffisaunce,   s.    sufficiency,   what    is  sufficient, 

enough,  acompetence,  M.  P.  x.  15;  treasure,  M. 

P.  xxiii.  13;   Suffisance,  wealth,  M.  P.  iii.  703, 
SutSsaunt,   adj.    sufficient,   capable,    L.   2524; 

well-endowed,  L.  1067;  Suffisant,  sufficient,  L. 

67:   able,  sufficient,  B  243. 
Suffraunce,  i.  endurance,  patience,  E  1162. 
Suffraunt,  adj.  patient,  tolerant,  M.  P.  iii.  loio. 
Suffren,  ■:■.  suffer,  M.  P.  iii.  411. 
Suffyse,  V.  suffice,  B  3648. 
Suget,  s.  subject,  R.  3535. 
Suggestioun,  s.  a  criminal  charge,  B  3607. 
Sugre,  s.  sugar,  P.  2046. 
Sukkenye,  i-.  gaberdine,  R.  1232. 
Summitted,  //.   submitted,  Bo.  1".  p.  x.  16; 

subjected,  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  158. 
Superfluitee,  .?.  superfluity,  excess,  C  471. 
Supplien,  z'.  supplicate,  entreat.  Bo.  III.  p.  viii. 

12. 
Surcote,  .r.  upper  coat,  A  617. 
Surement,  s.  surety,  pledge,  F  1534. 
Suretee,  s   careless  confidence,  M.  P.  vii.  215. 
Surmounted,   //.    surpassed;    surmounted   of, 

surpassed  in,  iM.  P.  iii.  826. 
Surplys,  s.  surplice,  G  558. 
Surquidrie,  .r.  arrogance,  over-confidence,  I  403. 
Sursanure,  j.  surface-healed  wound,  F  1113. 
Suspecious,  adj.  suspicious,  ominous  of  evil,  E 

540. 
Suspect,  adj.  suspicious,  ominous  of  evil,  E  541. 
Suspect,  s.  suspicion,  E  905. 
Sustenance,  .r.  sustenance,  food,  L.  2041;  sup- 
port, living,  E  202. 
Sustene,  v.  sustain,  maintain,  M.  P.  i.  22;  en- 
dure, M.  P.  xi.  2. 
StiSter,  J.  sister,  H.   F.  1547:   her  sustrr  lore, 

love  for  her  sister,  L.  2365;  Sustren,  //.  H.  F. 

1401;   .Suslres,  M.  P.  vii.  16. 
Suwe,  V.  follow,  T.  i.  379. 
Swa,  adz'.  so,  A  4040. 
Swal,//.  s   swelled;   ufi  swal,  swelled  up,  was 

puffed  up  with  anger,  B   1750;    Swollen,  //. 

proud,  E  95o. 


SwalOW,  J.  swallow,  M.  P.  v.  353. 

SwalwC,  s.  swallow,  T.  ii.  64. 

Swappe,  s.  a  swoop,  the  striking  of  a  bird  of  prey, 

H.  K.  543- 
Swappe,  7'.  to  swap,  strike,  E  586;  Swapte,//.  j. 

fell  suddenly,  E  1099;  Swap,  imp.  s.  strike  off, 

G  366. 
Swartish,   adj.    as   adv.  darkish,  dark,  H.  F. 

1647. 
Swatte,  pt.  s.  sweated,  G  560. 
Swayn,  s.  lad,  young  man,  B  1914. 
Sweigh,  i.  sway,  motion,  B  296. 
Swelte,  7'.  die,  M.  P.  iv.  216;  Swelt, /n  j.  dies, 

M    P.  iv.  128;   Swelte, /^  i.  fainted,  T.  iii.  347. 
Swelwe,/r.  s.  suhj.  swallow,  E  1188. 
Swerde,  s.  dat.  sword,  L.  1775;   Swerd,  B  64. 
Swere,  v.  swear,  B  1171;   Swoor, //.  s.  B  2062; 

Sworen,  //.   E  176;   Swore,  //.  sworn,  E  403; 

Sworn,  bound  by  oath,  F  18. 
Swering,  j.  swearing,  C  631. 
Swete,  adj.  sweet,  H  42. 
Swete,  ivr.  to  sweat,  G  522;  Swatte,  pt.  s.  G 

560. 
Swety,  adj.  sweaty,  M.  P.  ix.  28. 
Sweven,    s.    dream,    M.    P.    iii.    119;     B   3930; 

Swevenes, //.  H.  F.  3. 
Sweynte,  //.    tired  out,   slothful,  H.   F.  1783. 

/'/.  of  .^tuenchen. 
SvViOh,  adj.  such,  M.  P.  i.   116;   B  43;   such  a 

thing,  M.  P.-V;  57o"T^£;w/<rA  a,  such  a,  B  3921; 

siuich  oon,  such  an  on^,  ^3'      '*"    -  '  1./^- 

B  88.  i^^'"'-        "^ 

Swink,  i-.  labor,  toil,  A  188;  G  730. 
Swinke,  ?'.  labor,  toil,  A  186;  G  669;  ^er.  labor, 

toil,  C  874;  pr.  pi.  gain  by  labor,  work  for,  G 

21;  Swonken,//.  toiled,  A  4235. 
Swinker,  s.  laborer,  A  531. 
Swire,  s.  throat,  R.  325. 
Swogh,  s.  soughing   noise,   murmur,  M.    P.  v. 

247;   H.  F.  1031;  swoon,  M.  P.  ii.  16;  Swough, 

whizzing  noi.se,   H.    F.    1941;    Swow,   swoon, 

hence  deep  sorrow,  M.  P.  iii.  215. 
Swollen,  //.  swollen,  i.e.  proud,  E  950. 
Swolow,  s.  gulf,  L.  1 104. 
Swolwe,  7'.  to  swallow,  H  36. 
Swommen.  //.  //.  swam,  were  filled  with  swim- 
ming things,  M    P.  v.  188. 
Swonken.    See  Swinke. 
Swoor,  //.  s.  swore,  M.  P.  vii.  loi. 
Swoot,  s.  sweat,  G  578. 
Swote,   adj.   sweet,  M.    P.    v.   996.     See  Sote, 

Swete. 
Swough,   s.   fainting-fit,   swoon,    L.    1816.     See 

Swogh. 
Swoune,  7».  swoon,  faint,  M.  P.  iv.  216;  Swown- 

eili,  pr.  s.  M.  P.  vii.  169. 
Swow.     Sec  Swogh. 
Swowneth,  pr.  s.  swoons,   F  430;    Swowned, 


864 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


pt.  s.  swooned,  F  443;   Swowning, /r^-j. /*ar/. 

B  1 815. 
Swowninge,  i.  swooning,  swoon,  E  1080. 
Swyn,  i.  swine,  A  598. 
Swythe,  adv.  quickly,  H.   F.  538;  as  swythe, 

as  quickly  as  possible,  B  637 ;  G  936. 
Swyve,  V.  have  sexual  intercourse  with,  A  4178. 
Sy,  //.  s.  saw,  G  1381. 
Sye,  V.  sink,  T.  v.  182. 
Sye,  Seyen,  ft.  pi.  saw,  E  1804;  G  no. 
Syk,  J.  sigh,  F  498. 
Syke,  I  pr.  s.  sigh,  M.  p.  xxii.  10;   Syked,  pt. 

s.  sighed,  B  3394:  Syketh,/?-.  s.  sigheth,  sighs, 

B  985:  Sighte,  pt.  s.  sighed,  B  1035. 
Sykliche,  adj.  sickly,  T.  ii.  1528. 
Syre,  i.  sire,  master,  M.  P.  v.  12. 
Sys,  six,  B  3851. 
Sythe,  //.  times,  B  733;  ofte  sythe,  many  times, 

G  1031 ;  fill  ofte  sythe,  full  oftentimes,  E  233. 
Sythe,  s.  scythe,  L.  646. 


T',  before  a  verb  beginning  with  a  vowel,  to;  as 

Tacord.  etc. 
Tela,  V.  take,  A  4129. 
Tabard,  x.  short  coat  for  a  herald,  A  20;  for  a 

laborer,  A  541.  '*' 

Tabernacles,  //.  tabem?-  '^^'  ■"-'•=-  -  >  'J-  *•■  '23. 

-adIc,  /.  bT-'ird;  "^^  table,  at  board,  i.e.  enter- 
tained as  a  lodger,  G  1015 ;  Tables,  pi.  draughts, 
M.  P.  iii.  51. 

Tabouren,  pr.  pi.  drum,  din,  L.  354. 

Tabyde,  for  To  abide,  B  797. 

Taccepte,  for  To  accept,  M.  P.  xxiii.  t6. 

Tache,  s.  defect,  M.  P.  xxi.  18.     See  Tecches. 

Tacheve,  for  To  acheve,  to  achieve,  L.  2111. 

Tacord,  for  To  accord,  i.e.  to  agreement,  H  98. 

Tacorde.yyr  To  acorde,  to  agree,  M.  P.  i.  27. 

Taffata,  j.  fine  silk,  A  440. 

Taffraye,  for  To  affraye,  to  frighten,  E  455. 

Taillages,  i.  //.  taxes,  I  567. 

Taille,  s.  a  tally,  credit,  A  570. 

Tak,  imp.  s.  take;  tak  kepe,  take  heed,  M.  P. 
V.  563;  Tak  (she),  let  (her)  take,  M.  P.  v.  462; 
Taketh,  imp  pi.  take,  M.  P.  iv.  9;  Take,  //. 
brought.  M.  P.  i.  20;  Took,  i  pt.  s.  drew  in, 
breathed  in.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  3;  Take,  z'.  present, 
offer,  L.  1135;  Tak,  imp.  s.  receive,  B  117; 
Take  me,  i  pr.  s.  offer  myself,  betake  myself, 
B  1985;   Takestow,  2  pr.  s.  takest  thou,  G  435. 

Takel,  .J.  tackle,  arrow,  A  106. 

Tale,  s.  tale;  /  ^an  fitide  a  tale  to  him,  I 
thought  of  something  to  say  to  him,  M.  P.  iii. 
536;   a  long  story,  E  383;  Tales,  //.  B  130. 

Tale,  V.  talk,  tell  stories,  T.  iii.  231. 


Talent,.?,  longing,  Bo.  II.  p.   i.  13;   inclination, 

L.  1771 ;  desire,  appetite,  C  540, 
Talighte,  for  To  alighte,  i.e.  to  alight,  E  909. 
Taling,  j.  story-telling.  B  1624. 
Talle,  adj.  docile,  obsequious,  M.  P.  iv.  38. 
Tamen,  ik  make  trial  of,  R.  3904. 
Tamende,y<)r  To  amende,  to  redress,  E  441. 
Tan,  //.  taken,  R.  5894. 
Tanoyen,  for  To  ano^'en,  to  injure,  B  492. 
Tapicer,  i.  upholsterer,  A  362. 
Tapinage,  .s.  hiding;  iti  tapinage,  incognito,  R. 

7363- 
Tapite,  v.  cover  with  tapestry,  M.  P.  iii.  260. 
Tappestere,  j^.  barmaid,  tapster,  A  241. 
Targe,  j^.  target,  shield,  defence,  M.  P.  i.  176: 

shield,  M.  P.  vii.  33. 
Tarien,  ?'.  tarry,  B  983;  delay  (used  actively), 

F  73;  Taried,  //.  delayed,  F  402. 
Tarraye,  for  To  arraye,  to   array,  arrange,  E 

961. 
Tartre,  i.  tartar,  G  813. 
Tas,  s.  heap,  A  1005. 
Tassaile,  for  To  assaile,  ger.  to  assail,  M.  P. 

ix.  40;   Tassaille,  E  ii8o. 
Ta.SSa.yG,  for  To  assaye,  to  try,  M.  P,  iii.  346; 

to  test,  prove,  try,  E  454,  1075. 
Tassoille,  for  To  assoile,  to  absolve,  C  933. 
Tast,  i^.  taste,  relish  for,  M.  P.  v.  i6n. 
'^'(Ste,  V.  try,  test.  L-  «y93;   '"'/■  .?■  feel,  G  503. 
Tata.,  .^a  Er<;cS,  s.pl.  tattcrs,  R.  7259. 
Tavemer,  s.  inn-keeper,  C  685. 
Tavyse,/^r  To  avyse,  to  deliberate,  B  1426. 
Tawayte,  i.e.  to  wait,  M.  P.  xxiii.  7. 
Taylage,  s.  taxation,  M.  P.  ix.  54.    Lit.  '  taking 

by  tally.' 
Taylagiers,  s.pl  tax-gatherers,  R.  6811. 
Tecches,  s.pl.  ill  qualities,  R.  6517;  T.  iii.  935; 

characteristics,  H.  F.  1778.     See  Tache. 
Teche,  v.  teach,  A  308;   B  1180. 
Teer,  i.  a  tear,  E  1104;  Teres, pi.  E  1084. 
Telle,  V.  tell,  compute,  M.  P.  iii.  440;   i  pr.  s. 

Telle  (no  tale),  account  (nothing),  reckon  (of 

no  importance),  M.  P.  v.  326;  Telleth,  imp.  pi. 

tell,  M.  P.  iii.  555;  Tellen,  v.  tell,  relate,  B  56; 

Tel,  i»ip.  s.  B  1 167. 
Tembrace,y£'r  To  embrace,  E  iioi. 
Temen,  v.  bring;  temen  us  on  here,  bring  us  on 

our  bier,  let  us  die,  H.  F.  1744. 
Tempest  thee,  imp.  s.  violently  distress  thyself, 

M.  P.  xiii.  8;  2  pr.  s.  subj.  vex,  perturb.  Bo 

II.  p.  iv.  85. 
Temple,  .r.  inn  of  court,  A  567. 
Tempred,  pt.  s.  tempered,  M.  P.  v.  214;  Tem- 

prede,  pt.  s.  modulated,  Bo.   III.  m.  xii.  25; 

Tempred,//.  tempered,  G  926. 
Temprure,  s.  tempering,  R.  4177. 
Temps,  s.    tense;  fittiir   temps,   future   tense, 

futurity,  time  to  come,  G  875. 


GLOSSARIAL   IXDEX. 


865 


Ten  80  wood,  ten  times  as  mad,  L.  736. 

Tenbrace,  /or  To  enbrace,  to  embrace,  B  1891. 

Tendure,  -■.  to  endure,  E  756,  811. 

Tendyte,yi'r  To  endyte,  to  compose,  write,  M.  P. 
V.  167;   L.  (A)  310;   to  relate,  L.  1345. 

Tene,  s.  sorrow,  grief,  H.  F.  387;  vexation,  M. 
P.  i.  3;   sorrow,  T.  i.  814. 

Tenour,  s.  outline  of  the  story,  L.  929. 

Tenquere,  for  To  enquere,  to  ask,  M.  P.  i.  113. 

Tenspyre.yi^r  To  enspyre,  i.e.  to  inspire,  G  1470. 

Tente,  s.  tent,  M.  P.  i.  9,  41. 

Tentifly,  adv.  attentively,  E  334. 

Tercel,  aJj.  male  (of  an  eagle),  M.  P.  v.  393; 
as  s.  male  eagle,  M.  P.  v.  405. 

Tercelet,  s.  male  falcon,  M.  P.  v.  529;  F  504, 
621 ;  Tercelets,  //.  male  birds  of  prey,  M.  P. 
V.  659:   F  648. 

Tare,  s.  a  tear,  B  3852. 

Tep'ns,  s.  tarins,  R.  665. 

Tenne,  s.  period,  space  of  time,  M.  P.  iii.  79; 
appointed  time,  H.  F.  392;  in  Urme,  in  set 
terms  or  phrases,  C  31 1 ;  tenne  0/ his  lyi't,  foi 
the  whole  period  of  his  life,  G  1479;  Termes, 
//.  set  terms,  pedantic  expressions,  G  1398. 

Terme-day,  j.  appointed  day,  M.  P.  iii.  730. 

Tennjme,  v.  express  in  '  good  set  terms,"  M.  P. 

V.  53°- 
Terved,//.  stripped,  G  1171. 
Tery,  adj.  tearful,  T.  iv.  821. 
rescapdyi"'  To  escape,  M.  P.  xviji.  50. 
Tespye,  Jor  To  espye,  to  espy,  B  1989. 
Testers,  s.  pi.  head-pieces,  A  2499. 
Testes,  s.  pi.   vessels    for   assaying   metals,   G 

818. 
Testif,  adj.  headstrong,  A  4004. 
Texpounden,yt7r  To  expounden,  i.e.  to  expound, 

to  explain,  B  1716. 
Text,  s   text,  quotation  from  an  author,  B  45. 
Teztuel,   adj.    literal,    keeping    strictly   to   the 

letter  of  the  text,  I  57. 
Teyd,  //.  tied,  bound,  E  2432. 
Teyne,  s.  a  thin  plate  of  metal,  G  1225,  1229. 
Th',  before  substantives  beginning  with  a  vowel, 

the ;   as  Theffect  for  the  effect. 
Thadversitee,  s.  the  adversity,  E  756. 
Thakked,  //.  stroked,  A  3304. 
Thalighteiyfir  Thee  alighte;    in  thee  alighte, 

alighted  in  thee,  B  1660. 
Thalmyghty,  for  The  Almighty,  M.  P.  v.  379. 
Tbamendes,yi7r  The  ameudes,  the  amends,  M. 

P.  iii.  526. 
Thanke,  1  pr.  s.  I  thank,  E  1088. 
Thanne,  adv.  then,  M.  p.  iii.  1191;  Than,  M.  P. 

i.   118;    next,  M.   P.   v.   324;    er  than,  sooner 

than,  before,  G  899. 
Thapocalips,  /or  The  Apocalypse,  H.  F.  1385. 
Thar,    pr.   s.    impers.    need;    him   thar,  it   is 

needful  for  him,  M.  P.  L  76. 

3K 


Tharivaile,  /or  The   arivaile,  the  arrival,  the 

landing,  H.  F.  451. 
Thannes,  /or  The   armes,  the  arms,  armorial 

bearings,  H.  F.  1411. 
Tharray,  /or  The  array,  F  63. 
Thassay,y()r  The  assay,  the  endeavor,  M.  P.  v.  2. 
That,  introducing  an  optative  clause,  T.  v.  944. 
That,  rel.  that  which,   M     P.    iii.    635;    which, 

M.  P.  iii.  979:  conj.  so  that,  M.  P.  iii.  566;  as 

that,    M.   P.    iii.  959;    that  other,   the   other, 

M.    P.    iii.   634;     that  oon,   that   other,   the 

one,   the  other,   M.    P.   iii.    1290:    That,   conj. 

when,  T.  ii.  910;   as,  as  well  as,  B  1036;   rel. 

pron.  with  reference  to  whom,  G  236. 
Thavision,  /or  The  avision,  the  vision,  M.  P. 

iii.  285. 
Thavys,  the  advice,  A  3076. 
The,  as  in  The  bet,  by  so  much  the  better,  M.  P. 

iii.  668;  The  las,  by  so  much  the  less,  M.  P.  iii. 

675- 
The,  pron.  thee,  F  676. 
Thee,  -'.  prosper,  thrive,  M.  P.  iv.  267;  G  641; 

also  mote  I  thee,  so  may  I  thrive,  B  2007. 
Theef,  s.  false  wretch,  M.  P.  vii.  161. 
Theefly,  adv.  like  a  thief,  L.  1781. 
Theffect, ybr  The  effect,  the  consequence,  result, 

H.  F.  5;   the  matter,  contents,  M.  P.  ii.  56;  the 

substance,  pith,  L.  iiSo;   the  moral,  B  2148. 
Thegle,  /or  The  egle,  the  eagle,  B  3573. 
Theme,  s.  text,  thesis  yf  a  sermon,  C  333. 
Themperour,  /or  T'.       -nperour.  the  emperor, 

B24S:  The^p-rou'^   P^*-  -mper  ^:  V.'*^" 
ihen,  conj.  than,  M.  P.  iv!*2^?!^.  1673.  "  ^I2l 

Thencens,yi;r  The  encens,  the  incense,  L.  2612. 
Thenche,  :■.  think,  A  3253. 
Thende,yi)r  The  ende,  the  end,  B  423,  3269. 
Thengendring,y<;r  The  engendring,  the  process 

of  production,  H.  F.  968. 
Thengyne,  /or  The  engyne,  the  (warlike)  en- 
gine, H.  F.  1934. 
Thenken,  ger.  to  think,  M.  P.  iii.  100;  Thenk- 

eth,  pr.  s.  M.  P.  vii.  105;  Thenke,  i  pr.  s.  1 

think,  I  intend,  E  641. 
Thennes,  adv.   thence,  B  308;    used  as  s.  the 

place  that,  G  66. 
Thennes-forth,  adv.  thenceforth,  B  1755. 
Thentencioun,  the  intention,  G  1443. 
Thentente,  /or  The  entente,  purpose,  end,  G 

1306. 
Thenvyous,   /or   The    envyous,    the   spiteful, 

malicious,  M.  P.  iii.  642. 
Theorik,  s.  theory.  As.  Prol.  iv.  109. 
Ther,  adv.  where.  M.  P.  i.  145;   whereas,  M.  P. 

i.   119:    there,  B  62;   where,  T.   ii.  618;    tker 

as,  where  that,  L.  (A)  28:   when  that,  L.  1277; 

where,   M.  P.  iii.   197;    ther    that,  where,  F 

267. 
Ther,  introducing  an  optative  clause,  T.  iii.  947. 


8r.6 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Ther-aboute,  adv.  concerned  with  that  matter, 

H.  F.  597;   thereupon,  therein,  G  832. 
Therbe,  /('r  The  erbe,  the  herb,  H.  F.  290. 
Ther-bifore,  adv.  beforehand,  E  689,  729. 
Ther-biforn,  adz>.  beforehand,  before  the  event, 

H  197 ;   C  624. 
Ther-fore,  adv.  on  that  account,  E  445;  on  that 

point,  E  1 141;  for  that  purpose,  F  177;  for  it, 

L.  1391. 
Ther-geyn,  there  against,  R.  6555. 
Ther-inne,  adv.  therein,  in  it,  B  1945,  3573. 
Therof,  adv.  concerning  that,  M.  P.  iii.   1132; 

from  that,  M.  P  iii.  1166;  Ther-of,  with  respect 

to  that,  to  that  end,  E  644. 
Ther-on,  adv.  thereupon,  thereof,  F  3. 
Ther-oute,  adv.  out  there,  out  in  the  open  air, 

B  3362:  outside  there,  G  1136. 
Therthe./or  The  erthe,  the  earth,  M.  P.  v.  80. 
Therto,  adzK  besides,  moreover,  F  19. 
Ther-whyle,  adv.  for  that   time,  M.  P.  i.  54; 

Ther-whyles,  whilst.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  281. 
Therwith,  adv.  withal,  for  all  that,  M.  P.  iii. 

954;  besides,  at  the  same  time,  B  3210. 
Therwith-al,  adv.  at  that,  therewith,  M.  P.  v. 

405;   thereat,  L.  864;  besides,  L.  1 175;  besides 

all  that,  as  well,  B  3131,  3612. 
Theschewing.y^y  The  eschewing,  the  avoiding 

(of  anything),  M.  P.  v.  140. 
Thestaat,  for  The  est:'-\t,  the  state,  condition, 

B128.  C  n  k- 

Th'=i  H_V°''-  fo'  o^-'    '      thieves),  M.  P.  i.  15. 
JSif^"^'  '^".'\X'\  '   -"/rr-S'--'^,    -f  good  tlisv-:.  or 

^bits,  of  goLa  aisposition,  M.  P.  iv.  180. 
I'hewes,  />/.  habits,  morals,  H.  F.  1834;  natural 

qualities,  L.   2577;    qualities,  E  409;    virtues, 

good  qualities,  G  101. 
Thexcellent,  the  excellent,  B  150. 
Thexecucion,  ybr  The  execucion,  the  execution, 

M.  P.  X.  65. 
Thider,  adv.  thither,  B  144;  C  749. 
Thikke,  adj.  thick,  F  159. 
Thilke,  that,  M.  P.  iii.  785;  that  very,  that  same, 

C  753;   that  sort  of,  I  50. 
Thimage,  the  image,  L.  1760;   B  1695. 
Thing,  //.  things,  L.  11,  2140;    possessions,  G 

540;  Thinges,  poems,  L.  364;  pieces  of  music, 

F78. 
Thingot,  the  ingot,  G  1233. 
Thinke,  v.  seem,  T.  i.    405;    Thinketh,  /r.  s. 

impers.;  me  thi'nketk,  it  seems  tome,  B  1901; 

seems,    L.    247;    Thoughte,  pt.    s.  impers.  it 

seemed,  L.  134;  Thoghte,  L.  1697. 
Thinne,  adj.  thin,  poor,  scanty,  limited,  G  741. 
Thirleth, /r.  s.  pierces,  M.  P.  vii.  211;  Thirled, 

//.  M.  P.  vii.  350. 
This,  for  This  is,  T.  ii.  363;  Thise,  //.  these, 

M.  P.  iii.  817;  Thise,  pi.  of  This,  but  a  mono- 
syllable, B  59. 


Tho,  those,  M.  P.  iii.  914:  L.  153,  1575. 
Tho,  adv.  still.M.  P.  iii.  1054;  then,  L.  210. 
ThoCCident,>r  The  Occident,  B  3864. 
Thogh,  adv.  though,  M.  P.  iv.  200;  yet,  M.  P. 

iii.  670. 
Thoght,  s.  care,  anxiety,  B  1779;  E  80. 
Thoghte,  \pl.  s.  thought,  M.  P.  iii.  448. 
Tholed,  //.  suffered,  D  1546. 
Thombe,  j.  thumb,  F  83, 148. 
Thonder,  s.  thunder,  F  258. 
Thonder-leit,  s.  thunder-bolt.  Bo.  I.  m.  iv.  13. 
Thonke,  i  pr.  s.  I  thank,  E  830. 
Thorgh, />-<■/,  through,  M.  P.  v.  127,  129. 
Thorient,  for  The  Orient,  B  3871,  3883. 
Thoriginal,>r  The  original,  L.  1588. 
Thorpes,//,  villages,  M.  P.  v.  350. 
Thorugh-passen,/r. />/.  penetrate.  Bo.  IV.  m. 

iii-  55- 
Thought,  s.  anxiety,  R.  308. 
Thoughte,   pi.    s.     impers.    seemed,     B     146; 

ihotighte   hem,   it   seemed    to   them,   C   475; 

Thoghte,  M.  P.  iii.  535. 
Thral,  .v.  thrall,  slave,  servant,  B  3343. 
Thraldom,  s.  bondage,  slavery,  B  286. 
Thraste,//.  j.  thrust,  T.  ii.  1155. 
Threde,  s.  thread,  M.  p.  V.  267. 
Threed,  s.  thread,  L.  2018. 
Threpe,  i  pr.  pi.  we  call,  assert  to  be,  G  826. 
Threshfold,  s.  threshold,  E  288,  291. 
Threste,  v.  thrust,  A  2612. 
Threte,  v.  threaten,  L.  754. 
Threting,  s.  threatening,  menace,  G  698. 
Thridde,  third,  H.  F.  308. 
Thrift,  s.  success,  prosperity  in  money-making, 

G  739,  1425- 
Thrifty,  adj.  profitable,  B  1165. 
Thringe,  v.  thrust,  T.  iv.  66. 
Thrittene,  thirteen,  D  2259. 
Throf, //.  J.  flourished.  Bo.  III.  m.  iv.  5.    Pt.  s. 

of  Thryve. 
Throng,  pt.  s.  pressed,  forced  his  way,  M.  P.  vii. 

55.     Pt.  t.  of  Thringen. 
Throp,  .r.  thorpe,  small  village,  E  199;  Thropes, 

s.  gen.  village's,  I  12. 
Throstel,  j.  throstle,  song-thrush,  M.  P.  v.  364. 
Throte,  s.  throat,  M.  P.  iii.  945. 
Throwe,  s.  a  short  space  of  time,  a  little  while, 

B953;  E450. 
Throwe,  pp.  thrown,  L.  1960. 
Throwes,  s.pl.  throes,  T.  V.  206,  1201. 
Thrust,  s.  thirst,  R.  4722. 
Thrustel,  s.  a  throstle,  thrush,  B  1963;  Thrustel- 

cok,  B  1959. 
Thrusteth,  pr.  s.  thirsts,  yearns,  L.  103. 
Thrye,  thrice,  T.  ii.  89. 
Thryve,  v.  thrive,  prosper,  E  172. 
Thryvinge,  adj.  vigorous.  Bo.  V.  m.  iv.  26. 
Thundringe,  s.  thundering,  thunder,  H.  F.  1040. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


867 


Thunworthiest,  the  unworlhiest,  M.  P.  xxii.  ig. 

Thurfte,//.  s.  needed,  T.  iii.  572. 

Thurgh,  />-<•/.  through,  M.  P.  i.  27,  32;  through, 

by  help  of,  B  1669;   by,  F  ii. 
Thurgh-girt,  //.  pierced  through,  A  loio. 
Thurghout,   />rf/i.     throughout,      F     46;     all 

through,  B  256,  464;  quite  through,  C  655. 
Thurrok,  s.  hold  of  a  ship,  sink,  I  363,  715. 
Thurst,  s.  thirst,  B  100. 
Thursted  him,  />f.  s.  irn^ers.  he  was  thirsty,  l'> 

3229. 
Thwitel,  s.  knife,  A  3933. 
Thwytc/r.  //.  whittle,  cut  up  for,  H.  F.  1938; 

Thwiten,//.  whittle,  R.  933. 
Tid,  //.   happened,  H.  F.  255.     /*/.  of  Tydeii. 

See  Tydeth. 
Tidifs,  s.  pi.  small  birds,  F  648. 
Tikel,  adj.  frail,  A  3428. 
Tikelnesse,   s.   lack   of  steadiness,   instability, 

M.  P.  xiii.  3. 
Til,  conj.  until,  till,  M.  P.  iv.  59. 
Til,/r<'/.  to,  G  306. 
Tilier,  i.  tiller,  R.  4339. 
Tilyere,  s.  tiller,  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  97. 
Timbres,  s.  pi.  timbrels,  R.  772. 
Tipet,  i.  tippet,  H.  F.  1841. 
Tirannye,  s.  tyranny,  B  165. 
Tiraunts,//.  tyrants,  L.  374. 
Tit,/?-,  s.  betides,  T.  i.  333. 
Titering,  s.  hesitating,  T.  ii.  1744. 
Title,  s.  pretext,  T.  i.  488. 
To,  adv.   too,   B  2129;    overmuch,  G   14*3 ;^/o 

dere,  too  dearly,  C  293;  to  and  /re,  all  ways, 

H53. 
To,/r<7>.  for,  M.  P.  i.  184;  him  to,  for  him,  M. 

P.  iii.  771;   to  (used  after  its  case),  G  1449. 
To,  s.  toe,  A  2726. 
To-be te,  t.  beat  severely,  G  405. 
To-breketh,  pr.  s.  is  violently  broken,  H.   F. 

779;   breaks  in   twain,  G  907;  To-broken,//. 

broken  through,  destroyed,  M.  P.  xvi.  i. 
To-breste,  pr.  s.  subj.  may  be  broken  in  twain, 

M.  P.  i.  16. 
Tode,  i.  toad,  I  636. 
To-drawen,  pr.  pi.  allure,  Bo.  IV.  m.  iii.  52; 

To-(lrowen, //.  //.  tore   in  pieces,  Bo.  I.  p.  iii. 

47:  To-drawen,  //.  distracted.  Bo.  I.  p.  v.  84. 
To-driven,//,  scattered,  L.  1280. 
To-forn,  adv.  in  front,  beforehand.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi. 

337- 
To-forn, /re/,  before,  T.  iii.  335. 
Togedres,  adv.  together,  M.  P.  iii.  809. 
Toght,  adj.  taut,  D  2267. 
To-gider,  adv.  together,  L.  649;    B  3222;   To- 

gidres,  C  702. 
To-go,  //.  dispersed,  L.  653. 
To-hangen,  v.  hang  thoroughly,  put  to  death  by 

hanging,  H.  F.  1782. 


To-hepe,  adv.  toRether,  I,.  2009. 

To-hewe,  //.  hewn  in  pieces,  B  430. 

Toke,  ipt.  s.  tookest,  M.  P.  iii.  483. 

Tokening,  s.  token,  proof,  G  1153. 

Tolde,  1  pt.  s.  counted,  H.  F.  1380.  Pi.  t.  of 
'/•<■//,■«. 

Tolis,  s.  pi.  tools,  T.  i.  632. 

Tollen,  V.  take  toll,  A  562. 

Tollen,  V.  attract,  entice.  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  20. 

Tombesteres,  .1.  pi.  /em.  dancing  girls,  lit.  fe- 
male tumblers,  C  477. 

Tomblinge,  pr.  pi.  as  adj.  fleeting,  transitory. 
Bo.  II.  m.  iii.  26. 

To  medes,  as  reward,  T.  ii.  1201. 

Ton,  The  ton,  that  one,  R.  5217. 

Tong,  s.  tongue,  L.  2334;   Tonge,  dat.  L.  1675. 

Tonge,  s.  tongue,  M.  P.  iii.  930;  Tonges,  pi. 
languages,  B  3497.     See  Tunge. 

Tonged,//.  tongued,  M.  P.  iii.  927. 

Tonne,  .s.  tun,  cask,  wine-cask,  L.  195. 

Tonne-greet,  adj.  great  as  a  tun,  A  1994. 

Took,  pt.  s.  handed  over,  gave,  M.  P.  iii.  48; 
took,  had,  B  192. 

Toon,//,  toes,  claws,  H.  F.  2028. 

Top  and  tail,  beginning  and  end,  H.  F.  880. 

To  poynte,  adv.  point  by  point,  T.  iii.  497; 
apoynte,  exactly,  T.  v.  1620. 

To-race  ,pr.  pi.  subj.  may  scratch  to  pieces,  E  572. 

Tord,  i.  excrement,  C  955. 

To-rent,  //.  torn  -n  pieces,  M.  P.  v.  432;  To- 
rente,  //.  s.  torC:5    pieces,  L.  82r   ,  'io- 

lently,  L.  318?  ■  U  -n  ..v^.^-  ]^  ^  .^  ^^^ 
/A  torn  to  t'..  •    ,>W3,1. 

Torets, //.  small  nrig'i  o^Jwivels,  A  ?  _ 

Tormentinge,  i.  torture,  R  1038. 

Tormentour,  i.  tormentor,  i.e.  executioner,  B  818. 

Tormentyse,  s.  torment.  B  3707. 

Torn,  J.  turn,  C  815.     A' 

Tome,  V.  to  turn,  G  i-  if.'^  Terve,  3  imp.  s.  may 
he  turn,  G  1274;  Virved,  //.  turned,  i.e. 
'  turned  him  round  his  finger,"  G  1171. 

Torney,  s.  tournament,  T.  iv.  1669. 

To-romblen,  v.  rumble,  crash,  L.  1218. 

Tortuous,  adj.  oblique,  a  technical  term  in  as- 
trology, used  of  the  six  of  the  zodiacal  signs 
which  ascend  most  obliquely,  B  302. 

To-shake,//.  shaken  to  pieces,  L.  062;  tossed 
about,  L.  1765. 

To-shivered,  //.  broken  to  pieces,  been  de- 
stroyed, M.  P.  v.  493. 

To-Slitered,//.  slashed,  R.  840. 

To-Swinke,/r.  //.  labor  greatly,  C  519. 

To-tar,//.  s.  lacerated,  B  3801. 

Totelere,  subst.  as  adj.  tattling,  tale-bearing,  L. 
353- 

To-tere,  pr.  pi.  rend,  tear  in  pieces,  C  474:  To- 
tore,  //.  torn  in  pieces,  G  635;  To-torn,  M.  P. 
v.  no. 


868 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


Tother,  the  tother  {for  that  other),  the  other, 
L.  (A)  325. 

Toty,  adj.  dizzy,  A  4253. 

Touche,  I  pr.  s.  touch  on,  slightly  indicate,  M. 
P.  V.  285 ;  pr.  s.  subj.  affect,  concern,  B  3284. 

Tough,  adj.  hard,  harsh,  M.  P.  iii.  531. 

Toumbling,  adj.  perishing.  Bo.  III.  p.  ix.  194. 
See  Tomblinge. 

Tour,  ^.  tower,  M.  P.  i.  154;  mansion  (in  astrol- 
ogy), M.  P.  iv.  113;  in  B  2096,  it  means  that 
his  crest  was  a  miniature  tower,  with  a  lily  pro- 
jecting from  it. 

Touret,  i.  turret,  A  1909. 

Tourneyment,  j.  a  tournament,  B  1906. 

Toute,  J.  backside,  A  3812. 

Toverbyde,  to  outlive,  D  1260. 

Towayie,  s.  towel,  R.  i6i;    Towaille,  B  3935, 

3943- 
To-wonde,  pt.  s.  gave  way,  became  broken,  M. 

P.  iv.  102. 
To-yere,  adv.  this  year,  T.  iii.  241. 
Traas,  .r.  trace,  procession,  L.  285. 
Trace,  i  pr.  s.  trace  out,  follow,  go,  M.  P.  v.  54. 
Trad,//,  .s.  trod,  B  4368. 

Tragedien,  s.  writer  of  tragedy,  Bo.  III.  p.  vi.  3. 
Traiterye,  s.  treachery,  H.  F.  1812;    traitorye, 

B781. 
Traitour,  .r.  traitor,  H.  F.  267;  Tray  tour,  M.  P. 

iii.  1 1 20. 
Transmutacioun,  s.  change.  M.  P.  x.  i. 
Tl/^»  SlJJJ'^en,  V.  transmutS'  X.  iv.  467. 
'""'"lbits,o'f  g..^J  extend,?  R  I.^^n.  iv.  268 
rhewes, /'**?' ^■^'"■^jioK  w/H  F.'4- 

qualitie  ./''■  »■■=»??",  a:^   5  '  "O"^*^'  ^  =^499- 

oc,  v.  tramp,  T.   «  ^)o. 

Travaile,  s.  'labor  and  sorrow,'  M.  P.  iii.  602; 

Travayle,  work,  motion,  M.  P.  x.  70. 
Trave,  s.  frame  for  unrul-  horses,  A  3282. 
Travers,  j.  curtain,  scre«,.i,  T.  iii.  674. 
Tmyed,  pi.  s.  betrayed,  ll.  F.  390;  L.  2486. 
Trays,  .r.  //.  traces,  T.  i.  222. 
Trayteresse,  s.fem.  traitress,  M.  p.  iii.  620. 
Traytor,  j.  go-between,  pimp,  T.  iii.  273. 
Trecherye,  s.  treachery,  trickery,  M.  P.  v.  347. 
Trochour,  s.  traitor,  R.  6602. 
Trede-foul,  .s.  treader  of  fowls,  B  3135. 
Treget,  s.  deceit,  R.  6267. 
Tregetour,  j.  a  juggler  who  used   mechanical 

contrivances,  H.  F.  1277. 
Trench,  s.  a  hollow  walk,  alley,  F  392. 
Trenden,  v.  revolve.  Bo.  III.  m.  xi.  4. 
TrentalS,  j.  series  of  masses  for  the  dead,  D  1717. 
Trepeget,  s.  engine  for  casting  stones,  R.  6279. 
Tresor,  J.  treasure,  wealth,  L.  1652;  Tresore,  M. 

P.  iii.  854;  Tresour,  B  3401. 
Tresorere,  j.  treasurer,  M.  P.  i.  107. 
Tresorie,  j.  treasury,  H.  F.  524. 
Trespr  ".  f.  trespass,  transgress,  sin,  B  3370. 


Trespas,  s.  trespass,  fault,  M.  P.  iv.  49. 

Tressour,  s.  head-dress,  R.  568. 

Tretable,  adj.   tractable,  inclinable,  M.   P.   iii. 

923;   inclined  to  talk,  M.  P.  iii.  533;  manage- 
able, yielding,  L.  411. 
Trete,  v.  treat  of,  tell,  M.  P.  v.  34;   treat,  write, 

L.  575;  //•  explained,  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  3;  pr.pl. 

discourse,  treat,  C  630. 
Tretee,  s.  treaty,  B  3865. 

Tretis,  J.  treatise,  document,  T.  ii.  1697;   B  2147. 
Tretys,  adj.  long,  well-proportioned,  A  152. 
Trewe,  adj.  true,  M.  P.  iii.  1287;  //.  used  as  s. 

the  faithful,  B  456. 
Trewe,  s.  truce,  T.  iii.  1779. 
Treweliche,  adz/,  truly,  E  804. 
Trewe  love,  s.  condiment  to  sweeten  breath,  A 

3692. 
Trewely,  ad7i.  truly,  certainly,  L.  317. 
Triacle,  s.  a  sovereign  remedy,  B  479. 
Trichour,  s.  traitor,  R.  6308. 
Trille,  v.  turn,  F  316. 
Trippe,  v.  to  trip,  to  move  briskly  with  the  feet, 

F312. 
Trist, .?.  trust,  T.  iii.  403. 
Triste,  J.  tryst,  T.  ii.  1534. 
Triste,  ^("r.  to  trust,  trust  to,  L.  1885;  V.  trust, 

L-  333;  Tristed,//.  trusted,  R.  3929. 
Troden,//.  stepped,  C  712. 
Trompe,  j.  trumpet,  L.  635;  B  705. 
Trompes,  ;Or?;.  j.  trumpet's,  M.  P.  v.  344. 
Trompes,//.  trumpeters,  M.  P.  vii.  30. 
Trcnchoun,  .r.  broken  shaft  of  a  spear,  A  2615. 
Trone,  .s.  throne,  H.  F.  1384;  throne  (of  God), 

heaven,  C  842. 
Troublable,  adj.  disturbing,  Bo.  IV.  m.  ii.  12. 
Trouble,  adj.  tempestuous,  turbid.  Bo.  I.  m.  vii. 

3;  troubled,  gloomy,  E  465. 
Troubly,  adj.  cloudy,  obscure,  Bo.  IV.  m.  v.  40. 
Trouthe,  J.  truth,  G.  238;  truth,  fidelity,  L.  267; 

troth,  truth,  B  527. 
Trowandyse,  j.  vagrancy,  R.  3954. 
Trowe,  i  pr.  s.  believe,  think,  suppose,  M.  P. 

iii.    1042;    Trowest,   2  pr.   s.    M.   P.   iii.  651; 

Trowen,  pr.  pi.  believe  (in),  give  trust  (to), 

L.  (A)  21 ;  Trowestow,  dost  thou  think,  Bo.  I. 

p.  iii.  27. 
Truaunding,  s.  vagrancy,  R.  6721. 
Trufles,  i.  //.   trifles,  I  715. 
Trumpen,  v.  blow  the  trumpet,  H.  F.  1243; 

Trumpe,  H.  F.  1629. 
Tryce,  v.  pull  away,  B  3715. 
Trye,  adj.  choice,  excellent,  B  2046. 
Tryne  compas,  the  threefold  world,  containing 

earth,  sea,  and  heaven,  G  45. 
Tuel,  s.  pipe,  slender  chimney,  H.  F.  1649. 
Tulle,  V.  lure,  A  4134. 
Tunge,  s.  tongue,  M.  P.  i.  128. 
Turmente,  v.  torment,  L.  1165. 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


869 


.ntrye,  s.  torture,  P..  4740. 
ed,  //.  turned,  at  an  end,  M.  P.  iii.  689. 
,el,  J.  turtle-dove,  M.  P.  7'.  355. 
/es,  J.  //.  pieces  of  turf,  turf-plots,  L.  204. 
.•U.  twelve,  V.  736. 
Ifte,  ati/.  twelfth,  M.  P.  jv.  139. 
ye,    two,    M.    P.    i.    104;    Tweyne,   twain, 
P.  ii.  76. 

^fold,  adj.  twofold,  double,  G  566. 
Jges,/A  twigs,  H.  F.  1936. 
ghte,pt.  s.  twitched,  pulled,  T.  iv.  1185. 
nkeling,  s.  twinkling,  opening  and  shutting 
the    eye),    M.    P.    iv.    222;    Twinkling, 
■  nomentary  blinking,  E  37. 
Twinkled,//,  winked.  Bo.  II.  p.  iii.  86. 
Twinne,  f.  part,  L.  2032;  tivinne  from  his  itiit, 
lose  his  mind,  M.  P.  vii.  102;  ger.  to  separate, 
B  517:  to  depart  (from),  C  430. 
Twist,  //.   twisted,  H.   F.   775;   Twiste,  v.  to 

twist,  wring,  torment,  F  566. 
Twiste,  s.  {dat.)  twig,  spray,  F  442. 
Twyes,  adv.  twice,  B  1738. 
Twyne,  J'.  twine,  L.  2016. 

Tyde,  s.  time,  M.  P.  v.  97;  on  a  tyde,  upori  a 
time,  M.  P.  iv.  51;  time,  L.  (A)  304;  season, 
F  142. 
Tyden,  v.  befall,  B  337;  Tydeth, /r.  s.  betides, 

happens,  M    P.  iv.  202. 
Tydif,  .f.  small  bird;  perhaps  a  wren,  L.  154. 
Tyding,  s.  tidings,  news,  B  726. 
'I'yg^es,;*/.  g,'n.  tigers',  H.  F.  1459. 
.^yies,  s.  pi.  tiles,  M.  P.  iii.  300;  tiles,  bricks,  L. 

709. 
Tyme,  .r.  time,  B  19. 

ryren,  v.  tear,  rend.  Bo.  III.  in.  xii.  54;  pr.  pi. 
feed  on,  T.  i.  787. 


U. 


Umbreyde,  pt.  s.  upbraided,  reproached,  L.  1671. 
Unable,  adj.  wanting  in  ability,  M.   P.  xv.  10. 
Unagreable,  ndj  miserable.  Bo.  I.  m.  i.  36. 
Unbityde,  '\  fail  to  happen.  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  44. 
Unbokele,  v.  unbuckle,  F  555. 
Unbounden, //.  unbound,  unwedded,  divorced, 

K  1226. 
Unbrent,//.  unbumt,  B  1658. 
Unconning,  adj.  unskilful,  M.  P.  vi.  73. 
Uncouple,  v.  to  let  loose,  B  3692. 
Uncouthe,  adj  pi.  strange,  F  284. 
Uncovenable,  adj.   unfit   (for  good).   Bo.   IV. 

p.  vi.  366. 
Uncunninge,  adj.  ignorant,  Bo.  1.  p.  i.  75. 
Undefouled,  undefiled,  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  27. 
Undepartable,  adj.  inseparable,  Bo.  IV.  p.  iii. 

70. 
Undergrowe, //.  undergrown,  A  156. 


Undermeles,  .?.  Pl.  morning  meal-time,  D  875. 
Undern,  s.  a  particular  jwriod  of  the  day,  gener- 
ally from  9  A.M.  to  midday,   it  here  probably 

means  the  lieginning  of  that  period,  or  a  little 

after  9  A.M.,  E  260,  981. 
Undernom,//.  s.  jierceivcd,  G  243. 
Underput,//.  subjected,  Bo.  I.  p.  vi.  109. 
Underpyghte,  pt.  s.  slufTcd,  filled  underneath, 

B  789. 
Underspore,  v.  lever  up,  A  3465. 
Understonde,  v.  to  understand,   E  20;   Under- 

stonueth,/r.  //.  understand,  C  646. 
Undertake,  v.  to  affirm,  E  803;  i  pr.  s.  I  am 

bold  to  say,  B  3516. 
Undigne,  adj.  unworthy,  E  359. 
Undirfongeth, /r.  s.  undertakes,  R.  5709. 
Undo.^cr.  unfold,  reveal,  M.  P.  iii.  899. 
Undoutous,  adj.  undoubting.  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  35. 
Uneschewably,  adv.  inevitably.  Bo.  V.  p.  iii. 

148. 
Uneschuable,  adj.  inevitable.  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  117. 
Unespyed,  //.  undiscovered,  T.  iv.  1457. 
Unethe,  adv.  scarcely:  wel  unethe,  scarcely  at 

all,  H.  F.  2041;  Unethcs,  with  difficulty,  H.  F. 

900. 
UnfamOUS,  adj.  lost  to  fame,  forgotten  by  far.iOJ . 

H.  F.  1146. 
UnfestliCh.  adj.  unfestive,  jaded,  F  366. 
Ungiltif,  adj.  innocent,  T.  iii.  1018. 
Un-grobbed,//.  not  digged  round,  M.  P.  ix.  14. 
Unhappe,   s.    misfortune,    M.P.  xvi.    29;    Un- 

happes,//.  mishaps,  T.  ii.  456. 
Unhele,  s.  misfortune,  sickness,  C  116. 
Universitee,  s.  the  universal.  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  205. 
Unkinde..  adj.  unnatural,  B  88. 
Unkindely,  ai/w.  ilWchvd'y-."-  Ej»-«7S7^^t^.. 

rally,  C  485.         *  •  '" 

Unkindenesse,.t.  unkindness,  B  1057;  unnatural 

conduct,  L.  153. 
Unknowe,  //.  unknown,  L.  2034. 
Unkonninge,  adj.  stupid,  T.  v.  1139. 
Unkorven,//.  uncut,  untrimmed,  M.  P.  ix.  14. 
Unkouth,  adj.  strange,  T.  ii.  151. 
Unlaced,//,  disentangled.  Bo.  III.  p.  xii.  184. 
Unlefulle,  adj.  unlawful,  R.  4880. 
Unmerie,  adj.  sad,  H.  F.  74. 
Unmete,  adj  unfit,  M.  P.  vi.  75. 
Unneste,  ii>!p.  quit  thy  nest,  T.  iv.  305. 
Unnethe,  adv.  scarcely,  M.  P.  iii.  712  ;  scarcely, 

hardly,  with  difficulty,  B  1050,  1816;  Unncth, 

M.  P.  iii.  270. 
Unparigal,  adj.  unequal,  Bo.  III.  p.  i.  13. 
Unpleyten,  7'.  unplait,  explain,  unfold.   Bo.  II. 

p.  viii.  12. 
Unpurveyed,    adj.    unprovided,     uncared    for, 

Bo.  II.  p.  i.  24. 
Unraced,  adj.  unbroken,  untorn,  Bo.  IV.  p.  i.  60. 
Unreprovable,  adj.  without  reproach,  L.  691. 


870 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Dnresty,  ailj  restless,  T.  V.  1355. 

Unrightful,  mij  wicked,  L.  1771. 

Unsad,  adj.  unsettled,  E  995. 

Unsciencc,  *.  unreal  knowledge,  no  knowledge. 

Ho.  V.  p.  iii.  125. 
Unselinesse,  i.  unhappiness,  Bo.  IV.  p.  iv.  42. 
Unsely,  adj.  unhappy.  Bo.  II.  p.  iv.  10. 
Unset,  adj.  unappointed,  A  1524. 
Unshette   //.  not  shut,  H.  F.  1953. 
Unsittinge,  adj.  unbefitting,  T.  ii.  307. 
Unskilfully,  adv.  unreasonably.  Bo.   I.   p.    iv. 

249. 
Unslekked,  adj.  unslacked,  G  806. 
Unsolempne,  adj.  uncelebrated.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  73. 
Unspeedful,  adj.  unprofitable,  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  377. 
Unsperd,  //.  unlocked,  R.  2656. 
Unstaunchable, «(//'.  inexhaustible,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii. 

Unstaunched.  adj.  insatiate.  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  126. 

Unstedfastnesse,  s.  inconstancy,  L.  (A)  526. 

Unswete,  adj.  bitter,  dreadful,  H.  F.  72. 

Unthank,  i.  ingratitude,  little  thank,  T.  v.  699. 

Unthriftily,  adv.  poorly,  G  893. 

Unto,  coiij.  until,  M.  P.  v.  647. 

Untressed,  //.  with  hair  not  done  up  into  tresses, 

,    M.  P.  V.  268. 

Untretable,  adj.  inexorable,  Bo.  II.  p.  viii.  3. 

Untrewe,  adj.  untrue,  false,  B  3218. 

Untrouthe,  s.  untruth,  deceit,  faithlessness,  L. 

1677'   untruth,  B  687. 
Unwar,  adj.  unexpected,  B  427. 
Unweldy,  adj,  unwieldy,  difficult  to  move,  H 

55- 
Unwemmed,  pp.  unspotted,  spotless,  M.  p.  i. 

91;  G  137,  225.  _ 

*l.>'tmed,  «(.(/'.  unexper.tcA^>o.  IV.  p.  vi.  285. 
.nwist,    adj.    ig;'  )rant,   T.    i.   93;    unknown; 

uniuist  of,  unknown  by,  L.  1653. 
Unwit,  s.  folly,  M.  P.  iv.  271. 
Unwot,  pr.  s.  fails  to  know.  Bo.  V.  p.  vi.  198. 
Unwiye,  v.  uncover,  T.  i.  858. 
Unwys,  adj.  unwise,  foolish,  M.  P.  xvii.  27. 
Unyolden,  without  yielding,  A  2642. 
Up,  prep,  upon,  M.  P.  iii.  750;   up  with,  H.   F. 

1021;  Up  and  down,  here  and  there,  M.  P.  iv. 

210;   Up  so  down,  topsy-turvy,  M.  P.  xv.  5. 
Up-bounde,  //.  bound  up,  T.  iii.  517. 
Upbreyde,  v.  upbraid,  reproach,  M.  P.  vii.  118. 
Up-drow,  pt.  s.  drew  up,  L.  1459. 
Up-enbos&ed,  //.  raised,  embossed,  L.  1200. 
Up  frete,  v.  eat  up,  T.  v.  1470. 
Up-haf,  pt.  s.  uplifted,  A  2428. 
Upon,  prep,  concerning;   upon  her  lye,  tell  lies 

about  her,  M.  P.  iii.  1023. 
Upper,  adv.  coiiip.  higher,  H.  F.  884,  961. 
Upreysed,  //.  raised,  L.  1163. 
Uprist,  pr.   s    upriseth,  M.   P.   iv.  4;    Up-rist, 

pr.  s.  rises  up,  L.  1188. 


Upryght,  adv.  upright,  M.  P.  iii.  622;  Upright, 

flat  on  the  back,  A  4194. 
Up-SO-doun   adv.  upside  down,  A  1377. 
Upsterte,  //.  j.  upstarted,  arose,  A  1080. 
Up-yaf,  pt.  s.  yielded  up,  A  2427. 
Urchouns,  s.  pi.  hedgehogs,  R.  3135. 
Usage,  i.  custom,  habit,  M.  P.  v.  15. 
Usaunce,  s.  custom,  L.  586,  T476. 
Useth,  pr.  s.  is  accustomed,  L.   364;    Useden, 

pt.  pi.  were  accustomed,  L.  787. 
Utter,  adj.  outer,  R.  4208. 


Vache,  J.  cow,  beast,  M.  P.  xiii.  22. 

Vailith,  pr.  s.  avails,  R.  5765. 

Valance,  s.  (po.ssibly)  sign  of  the  zodiac  opposite 
the  mansion  of  a  planet,  M.  P.  iv.  145. 

Valey,  s.  valley,  M.  P.  iii.  r65. 

Vane,  j.  weather-vane,  E  996. 

Variaunt,  adj.  varying,  changing,  changeable, 
fickle,  G  1175. 

Vassalage,  s.  prowess,  R.  5871 ;  L.  1667. 

Vavasour,  j.  landholder,  A  360. 

Vekke,  s.  old  woman,  R.  4286. 

Veluettes,  //.  velvets,  F  644. 

Vendable,  adj.  sal.ible,  R.  5804. 

Venerye,  s.  hunting,  A  166,  2308. 

Vengeresses,  s.  pi.  avengeresses,  avenging  dei- 
ties. Bo.  III.  m.  xii.  42. 

Venim,  s.  venom,  poison,  A  2751. 

Venimous,  adj.  poisonous,  M.  P.  i.  149. 

Venquisshed,  //.  vanquished,  M.  P.  i.  8.. 

Vf.nt"<!inge   f  -rMpp-lug,  a  j-t^/. 

Ver,  s.  spring,  T.  i.  157. 

Veray,  adj.  very,  true,  real,  L.  1068. 

Verdegrees,  s.  verdigris,  G  791. 

Verdit,  s.  verdict,  A  787. 

Verger,  s.  orchard,  R.  3234;  Vergere,  R.  3618. 

Vermayle,  adj.  red,  R.  3645. 

Vermyne,  s.  vermin,  E  1095. 

Vernage,  s.  white  wine,  B  1261. 

Vernicle,  J'.  copy  of  the  handkerchief  with  the 
impression  of  the  face  of  the  Saviour,  A  685. 

Verray,  adj.  exact,  H.  F.  1079;  Verrey,  very, 
true,  M.  P.  i.  21;  Verray,  very,  true;  verray 
force,  main  force,  B  3237. 

Verrayly,  adv.  verily,  truly,  M,  P.  ii.  73. 

Verrayment,  adv.  truly,  B  1903. 

Verre,  j-.  glass,  T.  ii.  867. 

Vertu,  s.  mental  faculty,  H.  F.  550;  virtue,  F 
593;  vertu  plese,  satisfy  virtue,  be  virtuous, 
E  216;  magic  power,  magic  influence,  F  146, 
157- 

VertUOUS,  adj.  skilled,  R.  2311. 

Verye,  guard  (?),  A  3485. 

Vese,  s.  a  rush  of  wind,  draught,  gush,  A  1985. 


GLOSSARIAL    INDKX. 


871 


Vessel,  s.  (colltctivfly)  vessels,  plate,  B  3338. 
Vestiment,  s.  clothing,  robes,  K  59. 
Veyn,  mij.  vain,  M.  P.  i.  71;  vain,  empty,  pow- 
erless, silly,  CI  497. 
Veyne-blood,  i.  blood  of  the  veins,  A  2747. 
Viage,  s.  journey,  voyage,  U   259;  Viages, //. 

travels,  H.  K.  1962. 
Vicaire,  s.  deputy,  deputed  ruler,  M.   P.  i.   140; 

Vicary,  victor,  1  22. 
Victor,  s.  as  adj.  of  victory,  M.  P.  v.  182. 
Vilanye,  s.  vilencss,  H.  F.  96;   villanous  action, 

deed  of  a  churl,  L.  1823;  wrong,  L.  2541;  evil- 
doing,  13  1681. 
Vileins,  j.'f«.  of  a  villain,  churl,  L.  1824. 
Vileinye,  s.  discourtesy,  C  740;   licentiousness, 

G23.. 
Violes,  s.  pi.  vials,  phials,  G  793. 
Virelayes,  //.   virelays,  poems  with   a  veer  or 

turn,  L.  423. 
Viritrate,  s.  hag,  D  1582. 
Visage,  s.  face,  M.  P.  iii.  895. 
Vitaile,  s.  victuals,  food,  M.  P.  ix.  38;  L.  1488; 

Vitaille,  E  59,  265. 
Vitaile,  f.  provide  with  victuals,  L.  1093;  Vit- 

••lled,  //.  provisioned,  B  869. 
remyte,  s.  woman's  cap,  B  3562. 
ide,rt<(/.  solitary,  M.  P.  iv.  114. 

aided,  //.  cleared,  emptied,  L.  2625. 

Ois,  s.  voice,  M.  P.  i.  115. 

oltor,  s.  vulture.  Bo.  III.  m.  xii.  51. 
Voluntee,  s.  will,  R.  5276. 
Voluper,  X.  cap,  A  3241. 
Vouched, /^  s.  vouched:  vouched sauf,y<}\.\<:^v:.A 

(as)  safe,  vouchsafed,  M.  P.  i.  27,  57;  Vouche- 

sauf,  2  pr.  pi.  deign   to  give,  M.  P.  vii.  254; 

V'oucheth  sa;jf.  imp.  pi.  vouchsafe,  M.  P.  xix. 

8;  Vouche-sauf,  v.  vouchsafe,  pcronit,  L.  K73T 

2  //■.  //.  deign,  L.  2038. 
Voyde,  s.  sleeping  cup,  T.  iii.  674. 
Voyden.  v.  to  get  rid  of,  E  910;   F  188;   imp.  s. 

depart  from,  E  806;    Voydeth,  imp.  pi.  send 

away,  G  1136. 
Voys,  s.  voice,  F  99:  rumor,  E  629. 
Vyce,  s.  vice,  fault,  M.  P.  iv.  261. 
Vyne,  s.  vine,  M.  P.  v.  181. 


W. 


Waast,  f.  waist,  B  1890. 

Wachet,  s.  blue  cloth,  A  3321. 

Waf ,  pt.  s.  wove,  L.  2364.     Sec  Weven. 

Wafereres,  s.  pi.  makers  cA  gau/res  or  wafer- 
cakes,  confectioners,  C  479. 

Wages,  //.  pay,  recompense,  M.  P.  iv.  244. 

Waiten,  v.  attend  on,  L.  1269;  Waiteth,  pr.  s. 
watches.  E  708. 

Wake,  V.  be  awake,  lie  awake,  M.  P.  xviii.  27; 


Waked,  //.  kept  wake,  caroused,  M.  P.  iii. 
977;   Waken,  v.  act.  to  awake,  B  1187. 

Waker,  adj.  vigilant,  M.  P.  V.  358 

Waking,  s.  watching,  being  awake,  M.  P.  iii. 
611;  Wakinge,  a  keeping  awake,  period  of 
wakefulness,  1!  22. 

Wal,  J.  wall,  E  1047. 

Walked,//,  having  walked,  M.  P.  iii.  387. 

Walsh-note,  jiT'-".  walnut's,  H.  F.  1281. 

Walwe,  V.  wallow,  T.  i.  699;  Walweth, /r.  j. 
tosses  (lit.  wallows),  L.  1166;  Walwinge,/r(rj. 
part,  causing  to  roll.  Bo.  I.  m.  vii.  4. 

Wan,  //.  s.  won,  B  3337. 

Wanges,  s.  pt.  cheek-teeth,  A  4030. 

Wang-tooth,  s  molar  tooth,  B  3234. 

Wanhope,  i.  despair,  A  1249. 

Wanie,  v.  wane,  A  2078. 

Wante,  i  pr.  s.  lack,  have  not,  M.  P.  v.  287; 
Wantcn,  2  pr.  pi.  are  lacking,  M.  P.  ii.  76: 
Wante,  v.  be  wanting,  be  absent,  L.  361. 

Wantown,  adj.  wanton,  free,  unrestrained,  A 
208;   Wantoun,  E  236. 

Wantownesse,  s.  wantonness,  A  264. 

Wantrust,  adj.  distrustful,  H  281. 

War,  adj.  aware:  zuas  I  war,  I  noticed,  saw, 
M.  P.  V.  218,  298;  /  was  war,  M.  P.  iii.  445: 
aware,  L.  1741;  be  war  fro,  be  on  guard 
against,  L.  473;  be  war,  beware,  take  heed,  B 
119;  beth  ware,  B  1629. 

War,  imp.  s.  as  pi.;  waryow,  take  care  of  your- 
selves, make  way,  B  1889. 

Warde,  s.  dat.;  on  warde,  into  his  keeping, 
M.  P.  iii.  248. 

Wardecors,  s.  bodyguard,  D  359. 

Warderere,  look  out  behi_nd|._^j^_ioi. 

WardeillS.  ^i/r^uardian's,  L.  753.  ' 

Wardrobe,  s.  privy,  B  1762. 

Ware,  adj.  aware.     See  War. 
Ware,  imp.  beware,  B  4146. 
Ware,  .f.  merchandise,  B  140. 
Warente,  v.  to  warrant,  protect,  C  338. 
Warlangles,  s.  pi.  butcher  birds,  D  1408. 
Warien,  v.  curse,  T.  ii.  1619;   Warie,  i  pr.  s. 

I  curse,  B  372. 
Warisoun,  s.  reward,  R.  1537. 
Warisshe,  v.  recover,  B  2172;    Warished,  //. 

cured,  M.  P.  iii.  1104. 

Warisshinge,  s.  healing,  B  2205. 

Warly,  adv.  warily,  T.  iii.  454. 

Warne,  v.  reject,  M.  P.  i.  11;  2 pr.  s.  subj.  give 

notice  to,  H.  F.  893;  Warne,  v.  refuse,  L.  (A) 

438;  I  pr.  s.  I  warn,  I  bid  you  take  heed,  B  16, 

1 184.    See  Werne. 
Warnestore,  g'er.  to  garrison,  B  2521 ;  Warne- 

stored.  //.  provisioned.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  97. 
Waryce,  7'.  heal,  cure,  C  906. 
Wasshe,  //.  washed,  C  353. 
Wast,  s.  waste,  B  1609. 


872 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Wastel-breed,  j.  cake  of  fine  flour,  A  147. 

Wawe,  s.  wave,  B  508;  Wawes,  //.  M.  P.  ix. 
21:   L.  865;   B  468. 

Waxe,  V.  grow,  M.  P.  iii.  415;  Waxen,  //.  be- 
come, M.  P.  iii.  414. 

Wayk,  adj.  weak,  L.  2428;  B  1671. 

Wayn,  s.  car,  Bo.  IV.  m.  i.  38. 

Wayte,  imp.  s.  look  out  for,  await,  H.  F.  342; 
Wayteii,  7'.  to  watch,  F  444;  Wayteth,  /r.  s. 
B3331.    See  Waiten. 

Webbe,  .y.  weaver,  A  362. 

Wedde,  s.  dat.  pledge,  A  1218. 

Wede,  J.  a  '  weed,'  a  garment,  A  1006;   B  2107. 

Weder,  s.  weather,  F  52. 

Wedercok,  s.  weathercock,  M.  P.  xxi.  13. 

Weders,//.  storms,  M,  P.  v.  681. 

Wedres,  //.  weathers,  R.  73. 

Weel,  adv.  well,  L.  335.     See  Wei. 

Weep,  //.  .f.  wept,  M.  P.  iii.  107;  vii.  138;  L. 
846,  1732,  2706. 

Weeply,  adj  tearful,  sorrowful.  Bo.  I.  p.  i.  3. 

Weet,  s.  wet,  B  3407. 

Vfeex,  pt.  s.  waxed,  grew,  G  513. 

Wegge,  .r.  wedge,  As.  i.  14,  6. 

Wei,  adv.  certainly,  M.  P.  iii.  1117;  to  be  ivel, 
to  be  well  off,  M.  P.  iii.  845;  well,  much,  L. 
1386;  many,  L.  11;  certainly,  L.  452;  ivel 
unethe,  scarcely  at  all,  L.  (A)  33;  well,  B  25; 
very,  as  in  ivel  royal,  very  royal,  F  26;  about 
(used  with  numbers),  F  383;  certainly,  by  all 
means,  E  635. 

Welawey,  int.  wellaway!  alas!  M.  P.  vii.  338; 
H.  F.  318. 

"Velde,  s.  weld,  the  name  of  a  plant,  M.  P.  ix.  17. 

1]^^^    rule-    ^  "-I-.  ■ 
-  elae,  r/.  wield,  X.  2000;  pt.  s.  Wf'e'd^d    over- 
powered, B  3452. 

Weldy,  adj.  powerful,  T.  ii.  636. 

Wele,  .s.  weal,  good,  well-being,  M.  P.  iii.  603; 
good  fortune,  L.  1234;  prosperity,  B  175. 

Wele,  adv.  well,  M.  P.  iii.  643. 

Welefulnesse,  .y.  happiness.  Bo.  I.  p.  iii.  40. 

Welful,  adj.  full  of  weal,  blessed,  B  451. 

Wel-faring,  adj'.  well-faring,  thriving,  prosper- 
ous, B  3132. 

Welk,  I  />t.  s.  walked,  T.  v.  1235. 

Welked,//.  withered,  C  738. 

Welken,  5.  heaven,  sky,  H.  F.  1601;  Welkne, 
M.  P.  X.  62. 

Welle,  J.  well,  source,  M.  P.  i.  126. 

Welmeth,  />r.  s.  wells,  R.  1561. 

Welnigh,  ad7'.  well  nigh,  M.  P.  iv.  253. 

Welte,  pt.  s.  wielded,  i.e.  lorded  it  over,  pos- 
sessed for  use,  B  3200. 

Wel-willy,  adj.  benevolent,  T.  iii.  1257. 

Wem,  .f.  injury,  hurt,  F  121. 

Wemmelees,  adj.  stainless,  G  47. 

Wenche,  s.  wench,  woman,  H.  F.  206. 


Wende,  v.  go,  L.  2266;  pt.  s.  was  going,  H.  F. 

298;  Wente   him,  //.    s.    turned   himself,   i.e. 

went  his  way,  G   mo;    Went,  //.    gone,  L. 

1651;  6e>!  ivent,  are  gone,  B  173;   is  went,  is 

gone,  G  534. 
Wene,  .f.  doubt,  R.  574. 
Wenen,   v.    consider,    L.   12;    Wenest,  2  pr.  s. 

thinkest,  supposest,  M.  P.  iii.  744;  Weninge, 

pres.  pi.  H.  F.  262;  Wende,  ipt.s.  I  thought, 

M.  P.  v.  493;  //.  s.  weened,  supposed,  M.  P. 

i.  93;   expected,  L.   191 3;   supposed,  L.   1048; 

Wenden, //.//.  M.  P.  iii.  867;  Wene, /;«/. //. 

suppose,  L.   188;  Weneth,  pr.  s.  imagines,  C 

569. 
Wenged,  adj.  winged,  H.  F.  2118. 
Wente,;*/.  j.  went,  M.  P.  iii.  397.     See  Wende. 
Wente,  .f.  footpath,  M.  p.  xviii.  69;   turn,  pas- 
sage, T.  ii.  815;  iii.  787. 
Wepen,  .y.  weapon,  M.  P.  i.  118;   L.  2010. 
Wepen,  pr.  pi.  weep,  B  820;  //.  wept,  T.  i.  941 ; 

Wepte,//.  s.  wept,  B  267. 
Werbul,  .r.  song,  T.  ii.  1033. 
Werche,  v.  to  work,  make,  do,  perform,  B  566; 

G  14. 
Werdes,  s.  pi.  fates,  destinies.  Bo.  I.  m.  i.  15. 
Were,  .y.  danger,  R.  2827. 
Were,  i-.  weir,  M.  p.  V.   138;  weir,  pool,  T.  iii. 

35- 
Were,   s.   doubt,   M.   P.    iii.    1295;    H.  F.  979, 

doubt,  distress,  mental  struggle,  L.  2686. 
Were,  ^irr.  to  wear,  L.  1132;  Wered, //.  worn, 

B  3315- 
Were,  ■z pt.  s.  wast,  M.  P.  i.  so;  Wem,  pt.  pi. 

were,  M.  P.  iii.   1289;  Weren,  i  pt.  pi.  subj. 

should  be,  M.  P.  i.  180. 
Werk,   s.    work,    i.e.    reality,   practice,    F  4S2; 

Werkes,  s.  pi.  deeds,  actions,  M.  P.  iii.  8ot. 
Werking,  j.  work,  mode  of  operation,  G  1367. 
Weme,  v.  deny,  refuse,  H.  F.   1797;  turn  away, 

refuse,  T.  iv.  iii. 
Werre,  adv.  worse,  M.  P.  iii.  616. 
Werre,   i'.    war,   M.    P.    iii.  615;   to  werre,   in 

enmity,  M.  P.  i.  116. 
Werrey,  v.  make  war  on,  persecute,    R.   6926; 

Werreyd,  //.  persecuted,  R.  2078;    Werreye, 

ZK  carry  on  war,  fight,  M.  P.  ix.  25;  Werreyest, 

•z pr.  s.  makest  war  against,  L.  322;  Werreyed, 

pt.  s.  made  war  upon,  warred  against,  F  10. 
Werreyour,  j.  warrior,  L.  597. 
Wers,  adj.  comp.  worse,  M.  P.  iii.  1118;  adv. 

M.  P.  iii.  814;   Werste,  superl.  worst,  M.  P. 

iii.  1174. 
Werte,  j.  wart,  A  555. 
Wery,  adj.  weary,  M.  P.  iii.  127;   B  2111. 
Wesh,//.  s.  washed,  B  3934.     See  WaSShe. 
West,  s.  as  adv.  in  the  west,  F  459. 
Weste,  ger.  to  draw  near  the  west,  M.  P.  v.  266; 

V.  turn  to  the  west,  L.  61,  197. 


GLOSSAKIAL   INDEX. 


873 


Wete,  adj.  pi.  wet,  M.  P.  iv.  89. 

Wete,  s.  wet,  perspiration,  G  1187. 

Weven,  v.  weave,  L   2352;  Waf, //.  s.  L.  2364. 

Wex,  s.  wax,  G  1 164,  1268;  Wexe,  L.  3004. 

Wexe,  V,  grow,  become,  M.  P.  iii.  497;  Wexeth, 

pr.  s.  grows,  H.  F.   1076;   Wex,  pt.  s.  grew, 

M.   P.  iii.  1300;    Wexen,  pr.  pi.  become,  L. 

2240. 
Wey,  s.  way,  M.  P.  i.  75;  Weyes,//.  M.  P.  iii. 

1272;    6y  al  weyes,  in   all   things,  M.  P.  iii. 

1271 ;  a  furlong  wey,  a  small  distance,  a  short 

time,  E  516;  Weye,  dat.  on  (his)  way,  F  604. 
Weyen,  v.  weigh;    oghte  iveyen,  he  ought   to 

weii;h,  L.  398. 
Weyk,  adj.  weak,  M.  P.  vii.  341. 
Weyked,//.  weakened,  R.  4737. 
Weylaway,  into-j.  wellaway,  M.  P.  iii.  729. 
Weymentinge,  j.  lamentation,  R.  510. 
Weynes,  s.  pi.  chariots.  Ho.  IV.  m.  v.  7. 
Weyve,  v.  rclimiuish.  waive,  cast  aside,  M.  P. 

vii.  299;   forsake,  G  276. 
Whan,  cotij.  when,  M.  P.  iii.  1236. 
What,  whatever,  M.  P.  iv.  170;  What  .  .  .  what, 

partly  .  .  .  partly.  H.  F.  2058;  What  so,  what- 
ever, M.  P.  ii.  99;  What,  what  sort  of  a,  L. 

1305;  conj.  why,  L.  2025;   j«/fr/'.  what!  how! 

L.  1800. 
Wheel,  i.  orbit,  H.  F.  1450;  circle,  H.  F.  794; 

Whele,  wheel,  M.  P.  iii.  644. 
Wheelen,  v.  wheel,  T.  i.  139. 
Whennes,  adv.  whence,  M.  P.  xvi.  6. 
Wher,  conj  whether,  M.  P.  iii.  91;  H.  F.  586. 
Wherfor  that,  wherefore  is  it  that,  why,  M.  P. 

iii.  1034.. 
Wher-so,   adv.   where-soever,   M.    P.    iii.    10; 

whithersoever,    M.    P.    ii.     102;    Wher   that, 

wherever,  M    P.  v.  172. 
Wher-through,  adv.  by  means  of  which,  M.  P. 

iii    120. 
Wherto,  ad7>.  for  what  purpose,  M.  P.  iii.  670. 
Whete,  s.  wheat,  I  36. 
Whetston.  s.  whetstone,  T.  i.  631. 
Which,  prou.  what  kind  of,  L.  1883;  Whiche  a, 

what  kind  of  a,  what  a,  M.  P.  iii.  734;   Whiche, 

wh.-it  sort  of,  what  fine,  M.  P.  iii.  859. 
Whider,  adv.  whither,  M.  P.  i.  124. 
Whippes,  ^'^M.  whip's,  M.  P.  v.  178. 
Who,  pron.    indef.    one   who,    M.    P.    iii.   559; 

Whos,  gen.  whose,  M.  P.  iv.  132. 
Whom,  i.e.  one  who,  L.  1955. 
Whyl,  conj.  whilst,  M.  P.  iii.  1124. 
Whyle,  s.  time,  L.  2227. 
Whyl-er,  adv.  formerly,  G  1328. 
Whyles,  gen.  s.  as  adv.  while,  time;  t/ie  luhyles, 

whilst,  M.  P.  iii.  151. 
Whylom,  adv.  formerly,  once,  M.  P.  iv.  29;   L. 

1005. 
Whyte,  adj.pl.  white,  M.  P.  iii.  1318. 


Widwe,  s.  widow,  C  450. 

Widwehed,  s.  widowhood,  L.  (A)  295. 

Wierdes,  s.  pi.  fates,  T.  iii.  617. 

Wight,  X.  man,  creature,  person,  L.  15;   R656; 

Wightes, //.  beings,  people,  men,  M.  P.  iii.  579. 
Wighte,  s.  dat.  weight,  T.  ii.  1385. 
Wike,  s.  week,  C  362. 
Wiket,  i-,  wicket-gate,  H.  F.  477. 
Wikke,  adj.  wicked,  bad,  M.  P.  i.  44;  poor,  much 

alloyed,  H.  F.  1346. 
Wil,  I  pr.  s.  desire,  wish  for,  M.  P.  vii.  244. 
Wildnesse,  j.  wilderness,  M.  P.  ix.  34. 
Wilful,  adj.  voluntary.  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  188. 
Wilfulhed,  s.  wilfulness,  L.  (A)  355. 
Wine,f.  will,  M.  P.  i.  45,  57. 
Wilne,  I  pr.  I.  desire,  H.  F.  1094;   Wilnen,  pr. 

pi.  H.  F.  1312;   Wilned,  i  pt.  s.  M.  P.  iii.  1262. 
Wilninge,  .t.  willing,  wishing.  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  100; 

//.  desires,  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  197. 
"WiltoWfjor  Wilt  thou,  i.e.  wishest  thou,  B  2116. 
Wimpel,  s.  wimple,  veil,  L.  813,  847. 
Wimpleth,  pr.  s.  conceals  (as  with  a  wimple), 

Bo.  II.  p.  i.  71. 
Windas,  s.  windlass,  F  184. 
Wind-melle,  s.  wind-mill,  H.  F.  1280. 
Windre,  v.  trim,  R.  1020. 

Windy,  adj.  unstable  as  wind.  Bo.  II.  p.  viii.  30. 
Winke,  71.  shut  the  eyes  and  so  sleep,  fall  asleep, 

M.  P.  ii    109;   I  pr.  s.  sleep,  M.  P.  v.  482. 
Winsinge,  adj.  lively,  A  3263. 
Winter,//,  years,  M.  P.  v.  473. 
Wirche,  7'.  /'«/.  in  passive  sense,  to  be  made, 

H.  F.  474. 
Wirdes,  //.  Fates,  L.  2580. 
Wirkinge,  j.  efficiency,  Bo.  III.  p.  xi.  „-- 
Wis.  ad7:  surely,  certainly,  T.  ii.  887 
Wisly,  a(/i^urtr,7*I.  F.  )'-ii,     ^y' 
Wisse,  imp.  s.  direct,  guide',  ..I'P.  i.  155;  2  pr. 

s.  suhj.  teach,  M.  P.  v.  74;  ger.  teach,  instruct, 

H.  F.  491;  V.  guide,  T.  i.  622. 
Wissh,/^  s.  washed,  R.  96. 
Wiste,//.  s.  knew,  M.  P.  iii.  591. 
Wit,  J.  wisdom,  M.  P.  iii.  898;    mind,  M.  P.  iii. 

990;  feeling,  M.  P.  vi.  106;  Wittes, //.  senses, 

M.  P.  vi.  98. 
Wite,  ger.  to  know,  M.  P.  ii.  87;   Witeth,  imp. 

pi.  M.  P.  vi.  96;  Witen,  v.  know,  L.  7;  Wisie, 

//.  s.  knew,  L.  853. 
With,/r,/.  by,  M.  P.  v.  248;   L.  266. 
With-alle,  rtrM  withal,  M.  P.  iii.  1205;   L   iCo^. 
Withholden,  //.  retained  (in  the  legal  sense), 

L.  192. 
Withinne-forth,  adv.  within.  Bo.  V.  p.  v.  15. 
Withouten, />-<•/.  without,  L.  177. 
With-seye,  ■■.  refuse,  L.  367. 
With-stonde,//.  withstood,  L.  1186. 
Witnesfully,  adv.  publicly.  Bo   IV.  p.  y.  13. 
Witterly,  adv.  plainly,  truly,  L.  2606. 


874 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Wivere,  i^.  viper,  T.  iii.  loio. 

Wlatsom,  adj.  loathsome,  B  4243. 

Wo,  s.  woe,  sorrow;   me  is  wo,  I  am  sorry,  M.  P. 

iii.  566. 
Wo,  adj.  sad,  grieved,  M.  P.  iii.  896;  wretched, 

M.  P.  ii.  3. 
Wode,  s.  wood,  M.  P.  iii.  414. 
Wode,  adj.  pi.  mad,  H.  F.  i8og.     See  Wood. 
Wodewales,  i.  //.  orioles,  R.  658. 
Wol,  pr.  s.  desires,  wills,  M.  P.  i.  167;  Wolt,  2 

pr.  s.  wilt.  M.  P.  i.   10;  Wolde,  pt.  s.  would 

gladly,  wished  to,  M.  P.  iv.   124;  ^^od  luotde, 

would  God,  M.  P.  iii.  665;   Woldest,  2  pt.  s. 

wouldst,  M.  P.  iii.  561;  Wold,//,  willed,  M.  P. 

xviii    11;  wished,  L.  1209;   Woldestow,  if  thou 

wouldst,  L.  760;  Wol,  pr.  s.  permits,  H  28; 

wol  adoHii,  is  about  to  set,  I  72;  Wole, /r.  //. 

will,  B  468;  Woltow,  wilt  thou,  G  307. 
Wolle,  J.  wool,  L.  1721. 
Wombe,  j.  the  belly,  C  522. 
Wommanhede, .?.  womanhood,  B  851. 
Wommen,  //.  women,  L.  484. 
Wond,//.  s.  wound,  L.  2253. 
Wonde,  V.  desist,  L.  1187. 
Wonder,  s.  as  adj.  a  wonder,  strange,  M.  P.  iii. 

233;  as  ad7i.  wondrously,  M.  P.  iii.  344. 
Wonder-most,  adj.  sup.  most  wonderful,  H.  F. 

2059. 
Wone,  s.  habit,  custom,  H.  F.  76. 
Woned,  pi.  s.  dwelt,  M.  P.   iii.  889;  //.  accus- 
tomed, M.  P.  iii.  150;  Wonen,/r.  //.  dwell,  L. 

1317;  Woneden, //. //.  dwelt,  L.  712. 
Wonger,  j.  pillow,  B  2102. 
Woninge,  s.  dwelling,  abode,  M.  P.  i.  145. 

^^'.n.P— //.  won,  M.  P.  V.  105;   gained,  i.e.  ap- 
-  pfo^iL  ^/d,  M.  P.  iv.  31;  begotten,  L.  2564. 
Wood,  a,.y    nia;|5^     P.  [['i      ^.^    ri.  x'.  202:  mad, 

fierce,  madly  v>—  th,  L.  624;  ien  so  wood,  ten 

times  as  fierce,  L.  736. 
Wood,  i.  woad,  M.  P.  ix.  17. 
Woodeth,  pr.  s.  plays  the  madman,  acts  madly, 

G  467. 
Woodly,  ad7'.  madly,  L.  1752. 
Woodnesse,  s.  madness,  C  496. 
Wook,  I  pt.  s.  awoke,  M.  P.  v.  695. 
Woon,  .f.  plenty,  R.  1673;  quantity,  abundance, 

M.  P.  iii.  475;    dwelling,  house,  H.  F.  1166; 

hope,  T.  iv.  1181;  number,  L.  2161. 
Woot,  pr.  s.  knows,  M.  P.  ii.  30.      See  Wite, 

Wost. 
Wopen,//.  wept,  F  523. 
Worcher,  s.  worker,  maker,  M.  P.  iv.  261. 
Worcheth.  pr.  s.  works,  M.  P.  iii.  815. 
Worching,  s.  working,  influence,  M.  P.  v.  5. 
Word,  .r.  for  Ord,  beginning,  T.  iii.  702. 
Worde,  (/«/.  word,  saying,  M.  P.  iii.  [311 ;  Wordes, 

//.  words;  at  sliorte  wordes,  shortly,  L.  2462. 
Worldes,  gen.  of  the  world,  M.  P.  v.  53. 


Worm-foul,  J.  birds  which  eat  worms,  M.  P.  v. 

505. 
Wort,  J.  unfermented  beer,  wort,  G  813. 
Wortes,  s.  pi.  roots,  vegetables,  E  226. 
Worthe,  ger.   to  become,  M.   P.  iv.   248;   wet 

worthe,  may  good  befall,  H.   F.   53;    worth 

upon,  gets  upon,  B  1941. 
Wost,  2  pr.  s.  knowest,  H.  F.  729;  Wostow,yo>- 

Wost   thou,   knowest   thou,    M.    P.   iii.   1152; 

Wot,  I  pr.  s.  know,  M.  P.  i.  10. 
Wot.     See  Wost. 
Wounde,  i.  wound,  M.  P.  i.  79;  gen.  wound's, 

H.  F.  374;  Woundes  of  Egipte,//.  plagues  o( 

Egypt;  unlucky  days  so-called,  M.  P.  iii.  1207. 
Wowe,  v.  woo,  T.  v.  791 ;  Wowed,  //.  wooed, 

L.  1247. 
Wowing,  s.  wooing,  L.  1553. 
Woxen,//.  grown,  H.  F.  2082;  Woxe,  become, 

H.  F.  1494. 
Wrak,  s.  wreck,  B  513. 
Wrastling,  s.  wrestling,  M.  P.  v.  165. 
Wratthed,  //.  made  angry,  M.  P.  iii.  1151. 
Wraw,  adj.  savage,  fierce,  angry,  H  46. 
Wrecche,  .?.  unhappy  being,  M.  P.  iii.  577. 
Wreche,  j^.  vengeance,  M.  P.  xvi.  30. 
Wreek,  imp.  s.  wreak,  avenge,  B  3095. 
Wreen,  ik  cover,  R.  56. 
Wreigh,/^.  .j.  covered,  T.  iii.  1056. 
Wreke,  v.  revenge,  L.  395;  ger.  to  avenge,  L. 

1901. 
Wreker,  j.  avenger,  M.  P.  v.  361. 
Wrenche,  .f.  deceit,  R.  4292;   Wrenches,  .s.  //. 

frauds,  stratagems,  tricks,  G  1081. 
Wreying,  i.  betrayal,  R.  5220. 
Wroghte,  pt.  s.  was  making,  was  working  at,  L. 

-,j2i;  pt.  pi.  (they)  efiected,  L.  1696. 
Wroken,  //.  avenged,  T.  i.  88. 
Wroot, //.  J.  wrote,  M.  P.  i.  59. 
Wrooth,  adj.  wroth,  angry,  M.  P.  iii.  513. 
Wroteth,/r.  s.  digs  with  the  snout,  I  157. 
Wry,  imp.  s.  cover  up.  L.  735;  Wryen,  v.  cover, 

R.  6683;  Wrye, //.  hidden,  T.  iii.  620. 
Wrye,  ?'.  turn,  twist,  T.  ii.  906. 
Wryen,  r'.  turn  aside,  M.  P.  iii.  627. 
Wryth, /r.  .J.  winds,  T.  iii.  1231;  Wrytheth, /?". 

J.  writhes  out,  throws  forth  wreaths  of  smoke. 

Bo.  I.  m.  iv.  II. 
Wyde-where,  adz/,  widely,  T.  iii.  404. 
Wyf,  s.  woman,  M.  P.  iii.  1037;  wife,  M.  P.  iii. 

1082. 
WyfleeS,  adj.  wifeless,  E  1236. 
Wyfly,  adj.  wifelike,  E  429. 
Wyle,  .y.  wile,  guile,  M.  P.  v.  215. 
Wynde,    v.    wind,    intertwine,    M.    P.    v.   671; 
ger.  turn,  roam  about,   L.   818;  Wynt,  pr.  s. 

turns,  directs,  L.  85;   Wond,  pt.  s.  wound,  L. 

2253- 

Wyr,  J.  wire;  bit,  L.  1205. 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


875 


Wyse,  i.  wise,  way,  M.  V.  i.  34;  i/ut.  iiiaiiiicr, 

way,  L.  20. 
Wyse,  aiij.  wise,  M.  P.  vi.  32;  //.   as  s.  wise 

pcciple,  M.  P.  xvii.  20. 
Wyser,  at//,  covip.  wiser,  i.t.  wiser  course,  L. 

26,4 
Wyte,  J.  blame,  reproach,  M.  P.  vii.  268. 
Wyte,  7'.  blame,  reproach,  M.  P.  vii.  no. 
Wyve,  dat.  wife,  L.  1304. 


Y. 


Y-,  prefix  to  past  participles.     See  below. 

Yaf,  pt.  s.  gave,  M.  P.  iii.  1269;   Yave,  2  //.  j. 

uavcst,  M.  P.  xvi.  19.     Sec  Yeve. 
Yald,//.  s.   aflbnled,  Bo.  IV.  m.  vii.  28. 
Yalt,  //.  .J.  yielded;  yalt  him,  betook  himself, 

R.  4904. 
Yare,  adj.  ready,  L.  2270. 
Yates, //.  ir'»-  gates',  H.  F.  1301. 
Y-bake,//.  baked,  L.  709. 
Y-banisht,  //.  banished,  L.  1863. 
Y-be, //.  been,  H.  F".  411,  1733. 
Y-benched,//.  furnished  with   benches,  L.  (A) 

98.    See  Benched. 
Y-bete,  //.  beaten,  H.  F.   1041;  ornamented  by 

means  of  the  hammer,  hence,  struck,  coined, 

L.  1122. 
Y-blent, //.  blinded,  deceived,  M.  P.  iii.  647. 
Y-bleSsed,  //.  blessed,  H  09. 
Y-bleynt,  //.  blenched,  started  aside,  A  3753. 
Y-blowe,   //.  blown,   H.   F.    1664;    bruited  by 

fame,  H.  F.  1139. 
Y-bore,  //.  borne,  H.  F.  590;  V-boren,  born,  C 

704. 
Y-bounden,//.  bound,  M.  P.  v.  268. 
Y-bowed,  /*/•  diverted.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  195. 
Y-brent,//   burned,  H.  F.  940. 
Y-broght,  //.  brought,  I,.  938. 
Y-brOUded, //.  embroidered,  L.  (A)  159. 
Y-caught,  //.  caught  ;  she  ivas  y-caiight,  the 

contagion  of  her  charms  made   itself  fell  (in 

me),  M.  P.  iii   838. 
Y-chaped,  having  chapes  or  caps  of  metal  at  the 

end  of  a  sheath.  A  366. 
Y-cheyned,//.  chained,  M.  P.j'  /u.  14. 
Y-clad,//.  clothed,  G  133. 
Y-cleped,//.  called,  H  2;  Y-clept,  G  772. 
Y-comen,//  cnmc,  II.  F.  1074. 
Y-corouned, //.  crowned,  L.  219. 
Y-Corumped, //   corrupted.  Bo.  V.  p.  ii.  31. 
Y-corven,  //.  cut,  G  533. 
Y-COUpled,  //.  coupled,  wedded,  E  1219. 
Y-coyned,  //.  coined,  C  770. 
Y-crased,  //.  cracked,  broken,  M.  P.  iii.  324. 
Y-cristned,  //.  baptized,  I!  240. 
Y-dampned,//.  condemned,  L.  2030. 


Ydel.<i<//  i.llc,  F.  217. 

Ydelnesse,  s.  idleness,  M.  p.  iii.  602. 

Y-do,  //.  done,  M.  P.  iii.   1236;  finished,  M.  P. 

Ydolastre,  s.  an  idolater,  B  3377. 

Ydole,  s.  idol,  M.  P.  iii.  626. 

Ydrawe,//.  drawn,  M.  P.  vii.  70. 

Ye,  s.  eye,  M.  P.  iii.   184;   regard,  M.  P.  v.  630; 

Yen,//,  eyes,  L.  859. 
Ye,  adv.  yea,  M.  P.  v.  52. 
Yed,/V*.  eyed,  T.  iv.  1459. 

Yeddinges,//.  songs,  A  237. 

Yede,//.  .f.  went,  G  1141. 

Yeer,  //.  years,  L.  2075. 

Yelden,  v.  to  yield,  E  843;  Yeldeth,/r.  i.  yields, 

I,.  886. 
Yeldhalle,  s.  guild-hall,  A  370. 
Yelding,  .?.  produce,  yielding,  A  596. 
Yelleden,  //.  //.  yelled,  B  4579. 
Yelpe,  V.  boast,  A  2238. 
Yelw,  adj.  yellow,  M.  P.  iii.  857. 
Yeman,  j.  yeoman,  A  loi. 
Yen,  //.  eyes.     See  Ye. 
Yerd,  s.  enclosure,  yard,  R.  492. 
Yerde,  s.  rod,  hoice  correction,  M.  P.  v.  640; 

rod,  stick,  T.  ii.  154. 
YereS,  //.  gen.  years',  M.  P.  v.  67. 
Yerne,  ?'.  yearn,  M.  P.  iii.  1092. 
Yerne,  rt(/j'.  eagerly,  with  interest,  M.  P.  v.  21; 

as  yerne,  very  eagerly,  H.  F.  910. 
Yeten,  v.  pour,  shed.  Bo.  I.  m.  vii.  2. 
Yeve,  V.  give,  M.  P.  V.  308;    Veven,//.  //.  subj. 

would  give,  H.  F.  1708;  //.  devoted,  M.  P.  vii. 

in;     Yeveth, /r.  J.  gives,  L.  451 ;  Xai,  pt.   ' 

gave,  L.  172.     See  Yive. 
Yeving,  i.  giving,  what  one  gives,  M.  P 
YexeOl,//-.  s.  hiccoughs,  A  4151. 
Y■fan^,  pp.  fallen;  M.  P.Ti.  oC 
v.fare,  //.  gone,  L.  2271. 
Y-fere,  adv.  together,  L.  263. 
Y-fet,  //.  fetched,  G  1 1 16. 
Y-fetered,  //.  fettered,  A  1229. 
Y-feyned,  //.  feigned,  invented,  L.  (A)  327. 
Y-flcched,  //.  fixed.  Bo.  IV.  p.  vi.  136. 
Y-flit,  //.  moved,  whirled  along.  Bo.   I.  m.  ii. 

16. 
Y  frcten,  //.  eaten,  devoured,  L.  1951. 
Y-frounced,  pp.  w.i..lci<-^.  R.  155. 
Y-fyred,  //  fired,  L.  1013. 
Y-gerdoned,  //.  rewarded.  Bo.  V.  p.  iii.  21,.. 
Y-glased,  //.  glazed,  M.  P.  iii.  323. 
Yglewed,  //,  glued,  fixed  tight,  F  182. 
Y-glOSed,  //.  flattered,  H  34. 
Y-goon,  //.  gone,  I,.  22o6. 

Y-grave,  //.  dug,  dug  out,  M.  P.  iii.  164;  gra- 
ven, H    F.  1136. 
Y-halwed,  pf>.  hallowed,  consecrated,  L.  1871. 
Y-hent,  //.  seized,  caught,  C  868. 


876 


GLOSSARIAL   INDEX. 


Y-herd,  //.  haired,  A  3738. 
Y-hevied,  //.  weighed  down,  Bo.  V.  m.  v.  30. 
Y-holde,  f>p.   held,   restrained,   H.   F.   1286;    in- 
debted, L.  1954:  considered,  C  602. 
Yif,  ititp.  s.  give,  M.  P.  v.  119. 
Yif,  conj.  if,  T.  ii.  1063;   L.  2059. 
Yift,  s.  gift,  M.  P.  iii.  247;   L.  451. 
Yilden,  ger.  to  repay,  Bo.  V.  p.  i.  16;  Yildeth, 

pr.   s.    yields,    produces,   Bo.   IV.   m.   vi.   36. 

See  Yelden. 
Y-joigned,  //.  joined.  Bo.  II.  p.  vi.  loi. 
YiS,  adv.  yes,  M.  P.  iii.  526. 
Yit,  adzK  yet,  notwithstanding,  M.  P.  i.  46. 
Yive,  V.  give,  M.  P.  iii.  242;  Yiven,  //.  given, 

L.  501.     See  Yeve. 
Yiver,  s.  giver,  L.  2228. 
Y-kneled,  //.  kneeled,  L.  1232. 
Y-knit,  //.  joined,  M.  P.  vi.  32. 
Y-knowe,  v.  know,  recognize,  H.  F.  1336. 
Y-korven,  //.  cut,  B  iBoi. 
Y-kOUd,  //.   been  able  to  know,   known  well, 

M.  P.  iii.  666. 
Y-lad,  //.  carried  (in  a  cart),  A  530. 
Y-laft,  //.  left,  M.  P.  iii.  792. 
Y-laid,  //.  laid,  L.  2141. 
Y-lain,  //.  lain,  remained,  L.  2410. 
Yle,  s,  island,  H.  F.  416;  region,  province,  L. 

1425. 
Y-let,  //.  hindered,  obstructed,  Bo  V.  p.  iv.  37. 
Y-leten,  //.  left,  allowed.  Bo.  IV.  p.  iv.  347. 
Yliche,  adj.  like,  similar,  H.  F.  1328;  alike,  L. 

389. 

Yliche,  adv.  alike,  equally,  M.  P.  iii.  9. 

■'^-loren,  pp.  lost,  L.  26. 

Yke,  adv.  -"like,  equally,  L.  55. 

,.   '    pp.  made,  H.  F.  120. 
.  pro:ic^'  '  1    T^        o 

■yi^^.-rtU,  //    made,  caused,  F.  218. 

Ymageries,  '/t.'ca'rved  »,.rk,  H.  r    1190. 

Y-maked,  //.  made,  L.  122;  Y-maad,  composed, 

L.  550. 
Y-marked,  //.  set  down,  marked  out,  planned, 

H.  F.  1103. 
Y-ment,  //.  intended,  H.  F.  1742. 
Y-mette,  pp.  met,  B  1115. 
Y-meynd,  //.  mingled,  mixed,  A  2170. 
Y-moeved,  //.  moved.  Bo.  IV.  m.  vi.  8. 
Ympne,  s.  lyric  poem,  L.  422. 
Y-mused,  //.  mused,  reflected,  H.  F.  1287. 
Y-nogh,  adj.  enough,  sufficient,  M.  P.  iii.  965; 

Y-now,  adj.  pi.  M.  P.  v.  233. 
Y-nome,  //.  taken,  M.  P.  v.  38.    Pp.  oi  Nimen. 
Y-now,  adv.  enough,  G  864. 
Y-offred,  //.  offered,  dedicated,  L.  932. 
Yolden,  //.  yielded,  A  3052. 
YoUe,  pr.  pi.  yell,  A  2672. 
Yond,  adv.  yonder,  H.  F.  889. 
Yore,  adv.  long  ago,  long,  M.  P.  i.  150;  yort 

agon,  long  ago,  M.  P.  v    17. 


Youling,  s.  yelling,  A  1278. 

YoWydat.  to  you,  M.  P.  iii.  1321;  for  yourselves, 

M.  P.  iv.  17. 
Y-piked,  //.  picked  over,  G  941. 
Y-plOUnged,  //.  plunged,  sunk.  Bo.  III.  p.  xi. 

139. 
Y-plyted,  //.  pleated,  gathered,  Bo.  I.  p.  ii.  34. 
Ypocras,  Hippocrates;  hence,  a  kind  of  cordial, 

C  306. 
Y-porveyed,  //.  foreseen,  Bo.  V.  p.  iii.  50. 
Y-prayed,  //.  bidden,  invited,  E  269. 
Y-preised,  //.  praised,  H.  F.  1577. 
Y-preved,  //.  proved  to  be,  A  485. 
Y-purveyed,  //.  foreseen.  Bo.  V.  p.  iii.  97. 
Y-raft,  //.  reft,  robbed,  L.  1572.     See  Reven. 
Yre,  s.  ire,  anger,  vexation,  M.  P.  i.  30. 
Y-reke,  //.  spread  about,  A  3882. 
Yren,  adj.  iron,  G  759. 
Yren,  j^.  iron,  G  827. 
Y-rent,  //.  rent,  torn,  B  844. 
Y-ronge,  //.  rung,  told  loudly,  H.  F.  1655. 
Y-ronne,  //.  run,  i.e.  continued,  L.  1943. 
Y-rouned,  //.  whispered,  H.  F.  2107. 
Y-sayd,  //.  said,  M.  P.  iii.  270. 
Y-schette,  //.  shut,  B  560. 
Yse,  s.  ice,  H.  F.  1130. 
Y-see,  V.  .see,  M.  p.  i.  53;    Y-seye,  //.  H.   F. 

1367;  Y-seyn,  //.  seen.  L.  2076. 
Y-Sene,  adj.  manifest,  L.  1394;   visible,  L.  2655. 
Y-set,  //.    set  down,  F  173;    agreed,  fixed,  L. 

1637. 
Y-seye.    See  Y-see. 
Y-seyled,  //.  sailed,  B  4289. 
Y-Shad,  //.  scattered.  Bo.  III.  m   ii.  36. 
Y-Shaken,  //.    quivering,  sparkling.   Bo.   I.   m. 

iii.  19. 
Y-Shapen,  //.  shaped,  contrived,  G  1080. 
Y-shore,  //.  shorn,  shaven,  T.  iv.  996. 
Y-Shove,  //.  borne  about,  L.  726. 
Y-Slawe,  //.  slain,  B  484. 

Y-smite,  //.  smitten,  wounded.  Bo.  III.  m.  vii.  7. 
Y-songen,  //.  sung,  L.  270. 
Y-spended,  //.  spent.  Bo.  V.  p.  iv.  27. 
Y-sprad,  //.  spread,  B  1644. 
Y-spreynd,  //.  sprinkled,  A  2169. 
Y-spronge,  pp.  sprung,  divulged,  H.  F.  2081. 
Y-Stalled,  //.  set  in  a  seat,  installed,  H.  F.  1364. 
Y-stiked,  //.  stabbed,  F  1476. 
Y-stonge,  //  stung,  C  355. 
Y-storve,  //.  dead,  A  2014. 

Y-strawed,  //.  strewn,  bestrewn,  M.  P.  iii.  629. 
Y-strike,  //.  struck,  M.  P.  xi.  34. 
Y-sweped,  //.  swept,  G  938. 
Y-SWOWned,  //.  swooned,  L.  1342. 
Y-take,  //.  taken,  L.  617. 
Y-thewed,  pp.  ;   ivel  y-theived,  of  good  thew,'- 

or  customs,  M.  P.  v.  47. 
Y-throngen,  //.  confined,  Bo.  II.  p.  vii.  58. 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


877 


Y-throwe,  //.  thrown,  cast  out,  M.  P.  ii.  89. 

Y-torned,  pp.  turned,  \^o.  IV.  m.  v.  2. 

Y-treted,  pp  discussed.  Bo.  IV.  p.  i.  79. 

Y-tukked,  //.  tucked,  L.  982. 

Yvel,  adv.  ill,  E  460. 

Yvoire,  s.  ivory,  M.  P.  iii.  946. 

Y-waxe,  //.  grown,  become,  M.  P.  iii.  1275. 

Y-went,  //.  gone,  H.  F.  976. 

Y-whet,  //.  whetted,  aM    P.  vii.  212. 

Y-wimpled,  pp.  covered  with  a  wimple,  L.  797. 

See  Wimpel. 
Y-wis,  adv.  certainly,  L.  1569.     See  Wisly. 


Y-wiSt,  //   known,  Bo,  V.  p.  iii.  61. 

Y-wonne,  //.  won,  arrived,  L.  2427. 

Y-worthe.  //   become,  M.  P.  iii.  579. 

Y- woven.  //  woven,  L.  2360.    Pp.  of  Weven. 

Y-writhcn,  //.  wrapped,  R.  i6o. 

Y-wroght.     //.      depicted,     M.     P.     iii.     327; 

Y-wroyhtc,  //.  //.  fashioned,  M.  P.  v.  123. 
Y-wroken,  //.   avenged,  M.  p.  xvi.  26.     Pp.  of 

n-nkcn. 
Y-wronge,  //.  wrung,  L.  2527.  Pp.  of  Wringen. 
Y-wrye,  //.  veiled,  hid,  T.  iv.  1654;   V-wryen, 

covered  over,  M.  P.  iii.  628. 


Ylic.  ,^, 

389. 
yiiche,  .  -«'.  alike,  equa 
■^-loren,  pp.  lost,  L.  26. 
^ke,  adv.  -\like,  equally, 
,.     .pp.  made,  H.  F.  120. 

1^ ..ixSJiypf    made,  caused,  F.  2. 

"       -'er'»S  X^j. "carved  » ^ rk,  H."  1 
'   de,  L.  122;  Y-ma- 


Ylic  .e, 

389. 

Yliche,     .cv.  alike,  equu 
■^■loren,  //.  lost,  L.  26. 
Y^e,  adv.  ilike,  equally, 

Yir-— "lU,  //    made,  caused,  F.  i 
"  •>rio,<!     ^*i. "carved  w^rk,  H.  . 

'de,  L.  122;  Y-ma 


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