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of  the 

t    0!  t&aratrta 


Messrs  George  Routledge  &  Sons 


THE 

CARISBROOKE    LIBRARY. 


UNIVERSAL  LIBRARY,  now  completed  in  sixty- three 
cheap  shilling  volumes,  has  included  English  versions 
of  the  "  Iliad,"  of  all  extant  plays  of  the  Greek  tragedians, 
and  of  some  plays  of  Aristophanes,  of  Sanskrit  fables,  and 
of  Virgil's  "jEneid."  It  has  followed  the  course  of  time 
with  English  versions  of  the  most  famous  works  of  Dante, 
Boccaccio,  Machiavelli,  Rabelais,  Cervantes,  Moliere,  as 
recast  by  English  dramatists,  of  Goethe's  "  Faust  "  and  of 
Schiller's  Poems.  It  has  given  currency  also  to  a  series  of 
the  works  of  English  writers,  representative,  as  far  as  limits 
would  allow,  of  our  own  literature,  from  Richard  of  Bury's 
"  Philobiblon  "  to  Sheridan's  Plays  and  Emerson's  Essays. 
In  the  sequence  of  publication  variety  was  aimed  at,  but  in 
the  choice  of  books  to  be  republished  there  was  always  the 
unity  of  purpose  that  now  allows  the  volumes  to  be  arranged 
in  historical  order,  illustrating  some  of  the  chief  epochs  of 
European  literature,  and  especially  of  English  literature,  in 
the  long  course  of  time. 

THE  CARISBROOKE  LIBRARY,  now  begun,  will  continue 
the  work  of  its  predecessor,  with  some  changes  of  form  and 
method.  It  will  include  books  for  which  the  volumes  of 
the  former  series  did  not  allow  sufficient  room.  Some 
times  in  the  "  Universal  Library  "  a  large  book — Hobbes's 
"  Leviathan,"  for  example — was  packed  into  small  type. 


iv  THE  CARISBROOKE  LIBRARY. 

In  the  "  Carisbrooke  Library"  there  will  be  no  small  type. 
The  volumes  will  be  larger;  each  of  about  four  hundred 
and  fifty  pages.  They  will  be  handsome  library  volumes, 
printed  with  clear  type  upon  good  paper,  at  the  price  of 
half-a-crown,  and  they  will  be  published  in  alternate 
months.  In  the  "  Universal  Library "  the  editor's  intro 
duction  to  each  volume  was  restricted  to  four  pages,  and 
there  was  no  annotation.  In  the  "  Carisbrooke  Library," 
with  larger  leisure  and  a  two  months'  interval  between  the 
volumes,  it  will  be  possible  for  the  editor  to  give  more  help 
towards  the  enjoyment  of  each  book.  There  will  be  fuller 
introductions,  and  there  will  be  notes. 

Since  changes  of  method  and  form  in  the  old  Library 
mean  the  beginning  of  a  new  Library  with  change  of  name, 
a  simple  change  is  made  from  the  universal  to  the  particular ; 
from  the  purpose  to  the  one  who  purposes  ;  from  the  wide 
world  that  yields  fruitage  for  the  mind,  to  the  small  spot  of 
earth  where,  if  God  please,  in  shades  of  evening  one  fruit- 
gatherer  will  find  new  leisure  to  unburthen  himself  of  his 
little  store. 

In  the  "  Carisbrooke  Library,"  as  in  the  predecessor  of 
which  it  is  an  extension,  there  will  be  order  in  disorder. 
Variety  will  still  be  aimed  at  in  sequence  of  the  volumes, 
while  the  choice  of  books  to  be  issued  will  be  still  guided 
by  the  desire  to  bring  home  to  Englishmen,  without  unfair 
exclusion  of  any  form  of  earnest  thought,  as  far  as  may  be, 
some  living  knowledge  of  their  literature  along  its  whole 
extent,  and  of  its  relations  with  the  wisdom  and  the  wit  of 
the  surrounding  world. 

HENRY  MORLEY. 


, 


CONFESSIO     AMANTIS. 


Uales  of  tbc  Seven  2>caM\>  Sins 


BEING   THK 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS 


JOHN   GOWER 


EDITED   BY 


HENRY    MORLEY,    LL.D. 

PROFESSOR   OF  ENGLISH   LITERATURE   AT   UNIVERSITY  COLLEGE 
LONDON 


LONDON 
GEORGE    ROUTLEDGE    AND    SONS 

BROADWAY,  LUDGATE  HILL 

GLASGOW,  MANCHESTER,  AND  NEW  YORK 
1889 


PR 

IS 
C.6 


UAU.ANTYNE,    HANSON   AND  CO. 
JiUINBUKGH    ANU    LONUo.N 


INTRODUCTION. 


JOHN  GOWER'S  book  of  old  stories  is  here  at  last  made 
current  among  Englishmen  of  every  degree.  The  first  way 
of  its  wider  diffusion  was  by  recitation  of  the  story-tellers.  It  was 
their  business  to  give  pleasures  of  imagination  to  the  people 
through  their  ears,  when  even  the  few  who  could  read  would 
also  listen  with  enjoyment  to  a  tale  recited  with  dramatic  energy. 
When  the  play  of  "  Pericles *'  brought  one  of  Gower's  tales  upon 
our  stage  in  Shakespeare's  time,  John  Gower  himself  was  sup 
posed  to  speak  its  Prologue  in  his  chosen  measure  of  eight- 
syllabled  verse.  His  words  then  recalled  to  mind  the  old  way 
of  reciting  as  well  as  reading.  ,  The  actor  who,  dressed  as  Gowcr, 
came  before  the  people,  said  to  them  :— 

"  To  sing  a  songjhat  old  was  sung, 
From  ashes  ancient  Gower  is  come  ; 
Assuming  man's  infirmities 
To  glad  your  ear  and  please  your  eyes. 
It  hath  been  sung  at  festivals, 
On  ember  eves  and  holy  ales  ; 
And  lords  and  ladies  in  their  lives 
Have  read  it  for  restoratives." 

To  all  of  us  Gower  may  now  go  on  to  repeat  other  lines  of  the 
same  Prologue : — 

"  If  you,  born  in  these  latter  times, 
When  wit's  more  ripe,  accept  my  rhymes  ; 
And  that  to  hear  an  old  man  sing 
May  to  your  wishes  pleasure  bring, 
I  life  would  wish,  and  that  I  might 
Waste  it  for  you,  like  taper  liyht." 

For  my  own  part,  I  have  long  wished  to  make  it  possible  that 


x  INTRODUCTION. 

in  these  times  his  countrymen  might  again  be  pleased  to  hear 
John  Gower's  song. 

In  the  few  editions  of  these  tales  hitherto  published,  Gower's 
taper  has  burnt  dimly,  because  they  have  been  so  presented  as 
to  blur  his  light.  The  first  edition  was  Caxton's,  printed  at 
Westminster,  and  dated  1493  [by  mistake  for  1483].  The  second 
edition  was  "Imprinted  at  London  in  Flete  strete  by  Thomas 
Berthelette,  Printer  to  the  King's  grace,"  in  the  year  1532.  Ber- 
thelette  published  another  edition  in  1544.  These  were  the 
editions  of  Gower's  English  poem  read — and  it  was  read — in  the 
good  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  A  copy  of  one  of  Berthelette's 
editions  was  priced  in  a  recent  catalogue  at  ^14.  There  was  not 
another  edition  until  1810,  when  the  "Confessio  Amantis,"  printed 
from  Berthelette's  edition,  was  included,  with  other  works,  in  the 
second  of  the  twenty- one  volumes  of  Chalmers's  English  Poets. 
Next  came  in  1857,  and  last  of  all,  three  handsome  volumes  of 
large  print,  the  "  Confessio  Amantis  of  John  Gower,  edited  and 
collated  with  the  best  Manuscripts  by  Dr.  Reinhold  Pauli."  Dr. 
Pauli's  edition  of  the  text  was  based  upon  Berthelette.  But  there 
were  some  corrections  made  by  reference  to  MSS.  for  supply  of 
omissions  and  revision  of  the  metre. 

Here  let  me  interpolate  a  word  or  two  in  hearty  recognition  of 
Dr.  Reinhold  Pauli's  services  to  English  Literature.  He  was  born 
on  the  25th  of  May  1823,  and  died  on  the  3rd  of  June  1882.  He 
was  born  in  Berlin,  studied  at  Berlin  and  Bonn,  and  came  to 
England  in  1847.  For  several  years  Pauli  was  private  secretary 
to  Bunsen,  and  he  did  not  return  to  Germany  until  1855,  after 
publishing  here,  in  1851,  a  study  of  King  Alfred  and  his  place  in 
English  History.  After  returning  to  Germany  he  went  on  with  a 
continuation  to  Lappenberg's  History,  of  which  he  published  the 
first  volume  in  1853,  the  third  and  last  in  1858.  In  1857,  the 
year  in  which  his  edition  of  this  poem  appeared,  Pauli  obtained 
a  Professorship  in  Rostock.  In  1859  he  was  transferred  to  the 
University  of  Tubingen,  from  which  he  was  degraded  for  the 
independent  spirit  shown  by  him  in  an  article  on  the  condition  of 
Wiirtemberg,  and  sent  down  to  teach  in  the  Schonthal  Seminary. 
In  1864  he  had  begun  a  History  of  England  since  Waterloo,  of 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

which  the  third  and  last  volume  appeared  in  1875.  In  1867  he 
became  a  Professor  at  Marburg,  and  in  1870  he  went  to  the  Uni 
versity  of  Gottingen.  Pauli  was  essentially  historian,  with  right 
qualification  for  his  work  in  breadth  of  culture  and  a  clear  sense 
of  the  debts  of  the  present  to  the  past,  which  made  him  the  more 
ready  to  understand  our  duty  to  the  future. 

Old  texts  of  the  "  Confessio  Amantis ''  often  destroy  the  music 
of  the  verse.  There  are  careless  transpositions  of  words,  droppings 
or  additions  of  words,  substitutions  of  later  for  earlier  forms,  and 
frequent  omissions  of  the  final  e  where  English  of  Gower's  time 
required  it.  There  are  also  in  all  the  texts  destructions  of  sense 
by  errors  of  punctuation.  Dr.  Pauli's  edition  was  an  improve 
ment  upon  those  that  went  before.  It  is  not  a  fault,  but  a  merit, 
that  he  was  unwilling  to  make  any  change  without  MS.  authority. 
Yet  this  fidelity  obliged  him  to  leave  many  broken  lines.  For 
example,  recognition  of  the  fact  that  in  Gower's  English  an  adjec 
tive  used  definitely  took  a  final  e  at  once  restores  to  music  many 
scores  of  lines  that  want  a  syllable  in  Caxton's,  Berthelette's,  and 
Dr.  Pauli's  texts.  Dr.  Pauli's  text  has  also,  like  Caxton's  and 
Berthelette's,  now  and  then  a  full  stop  in  what  should  be  the 
middle  of  a  sentence. 

But  in  all  these  texts,  and  especially  in  Dr.  Pauli's,  most  of  the 
lines  are  right  for  those  whose  previous  training  has  enabled  them 
to  read  Old  English.  There  is  really  nothing  wanted  but  a  little 
help  to  right  accentuation  to  enable  any  reader,  with  or  with 
out  previous  training  in  Old  English,  to  enjoy  the  "Confessio 
Amantis."  Of  course  a  fallible  and  mortal  editor  cannot  avoid 
some  slips  in  the  line  for  line  accentuation  of  a  poem  of  30,000 
lines.  I  believe,  however,  that  the  reader  here  has  Gower's  song 
more  nearly  than  in  any  former  edition  given  as  he  sang  it  him 
self,  nothing  modernised,  but  rather  with  a  few  words  carried 
back  to  their  original  form  for  the  recovery  of  the  right  rhythm  of 
a  line.  Gower's  poem  in  this  edition  is  so  far  from  being  jagged 
and  unmusical  that,  I  hope,  there  is  not  a  broken  line  in  it  from 
first  to  last. 

Many  lines  of  the  "  Confessio  Amantis "  that,  in  the  modern 
way  of  reading  them,  would  seem  to  halt,  run  easily  when  read 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

with  their  own  old  accentuation.  In  the  present  volume  this 
accentuation  has  been  marked  throughout,  wherever  it  varied 
from  that  of  the  present  day.  Gower's  verse,  as  we  may  now 
see,  was,  in  fact,  noticeable  for  its  easy  flow.  His  octosylla 
bics  have  some  of  the  freedom  that  long  afterwards  gave  grace 
and  power  to  blank  verse,  by  the  interlacing  of  sentences  and 
making  frequent  pauses  and  breaks  of  sense  within  the  lines 
and  not  at  their  close  only.  Gower's  frequent  rhyming  of  words 
differing  in  sense  but  spelt  alike  we  must  regard  now  as  a 
blemish.  He  found,  indeed,  difference  enough  for  a  rhyme  be 
tween  identical  words  of  which  one  was  used  as  a  verb,  one  as  a 
noun.  But  we  may  feel  also  that  he  does  this  because  he  is  at 
ease,  and  not  because  he  is  hard  pressed.  He  pours  out  his 
ready  rhymes  with  animation  by  the  thousand.  He  runs  them 
into  shrewd  and  homely  couplets.  He  varies  their  dramatic 
effect  by  interlacing  sentences  with  what  Milton  calls  "  the  sense 
variously  drawn  out  from  one  verse  into  another." 

If  this  text,  meant  to  be  popular  and  yet  not  modernised,  adds, 
as  of  course  it  must,  some  errors  of  its  own,  it  has  removed  so 
many  current  errors  that  to  the  student  as  well  as  to  the  general 
reader  it  should  bring  Gower's  Story  Book  much  nearer  home 
than  it  has  been  able  to  come  hitherto.  I  have  avoided,  except 
in  the  case  of  manifest  deviations  from  the  first  sense,  all  inter 
ference  with  the  spelling  of  those  old  words  which  are  most  likely 
to  be  mangled  by  transcribers  and  printers.  Names  of  persons 
were  very  often  broken  on  the  rack.  In  all  the  editions  of  the 
"  Confessio  Amantis,"  from  Caxton  to  Pauli,  the  Phrygian  Dares 
appears  as  Frigidilles ;  and  Epicurus,  obviously  paired  in  a  line  with 
his  friend  Menander,  is  called  Epyloquorus.  In  all  the  editions 
from  Caxton  to  Pauli  we  read  also  of  the  plant  under  the  star 
'  Cor  Scorpionis,'  that  "  His  herbe  is  Astrology,"  where  Astrology 
is  a  misprint  for  Aristolochy,  Aristolochia.  I  have  corrected  one 
or  two  such  errors,  but  have  not  meddled  with  forms  of  names 
which  are  as  Gower  may  possibly  himself  have  written  them. 
But  who  was  Gower? 

John  Gower,  Chaucer's  friend  and  fellow  poet,  may  have  beer- 
born  about  the  year  1327.  He  died  in  the  year  1408,  and  was 


IXTRODl'CTIOX. 


X111 


blind  during  the  last  eight  years  of  his  life.  His  work  as  a  writer 
for  the  outside  world  was  ended  by  his  blindness  in  the  year 
1400,  the  year  of  Chaucer's  death. 

John  Gower  was  a  country  gentleman,  of  the  kindred  of  a  Sir 
Robert  Gower  who  lies  buried  in  Brabourne  Church,  about  five 
miles  from  Ashford  in  Kent.  A  manor  of  Kentwell  in  Suffolk, 
which  had  belonged  to  Sir  Robert  Gower,  found  its  way  through 
a  series  of  family  arrangements  into  the  possession  of  John  Gower 
the  poet.  John  Gower  acquired  also  a  manor  of  Feltwell  in 
Norfolk ;  a  manor  of  Moulton  in  Suffolk ;  and  lands  in  Kent  in 
the  parishes  of  Throwley  and  Stalesfield.  He  was  a  feoffee  of  the 
Kentish  manor  of  Aldington  ;  he  had  a  rental  of  ten  pounds  out 
of  the  manor  of  Wigborough  in  Essex ;  and  he  signed  a  will  in 
the  year  1373  at  his  own  house  in  Kent,  which  was  at  Otford  by 
the  river  Darent.  From  1390  until  1397,  John  Gower,  described 
not  as  priest  but  as  clerk,  held  the  rectory  of  Great  Braxted  in 
Essex.  This  was  within  a  mile  of  that  manor  of  Wigborough  from 
which  he  drew  ten  pounds  a  year  rental. 

Gower's  social  position  gave  him  access  to  the  Court.  He  was 
known  personally  to  the  King,  and  he  held  his  rectory  of  Great 
Braxted  as  a  grant  from  Richard  the  Second.  He  wrote  Balades 
in  French,  which  were  designed  chiefly  for  the  pleasure  of  the 
Court.  But  he  was  in  his  own  way  very  much  of  a  philosopher, 
and  liked  life  best  in  his  own  home  with  his  own  thoughts  and 
friends  of  his  own  choosing.  He  wrote  three  large  poems,  which 
agreed  in  having  Latin  titles.  One  of  them — "  Speculum  Medi- 
tantis  " — was  in  French  ;  one — "  Vox  Clamantis  " — was  in  Latin  ; 
one — this  our  "  Confessio  Amantis  " — was  in  English  :  these  being 
the  three  languages  then  used  by  English  writers. 

Of  Gower's  French  poem — "  Speculum  Meditantis,"  the  Mirror 
of  one  Meditating — no  copy  can  now  be  found/  Some  day,  per- 
haps,  a  MS.  of  it  will  be  discovered  abroad  in  some  quiet  old 
monastic  library.  A  description  of  it  was  given  in  a  MS.  of  the 
English  poem  as  "  divided  into  twelve  parts,  and  treating  of  the 
Vices  and  the  Virtues,  and  of  the  various  degrees  of  this  age/'  It 
is  added  that  the  poem  sought  "  to  teach,  by  a  right  path,  the  way 
whereby  a  transgressed  sinner  ought  to  return  to  the  knowledge 
of  his  Creator." 


r 


jrfv  INTRODUCTION. 

It  may  have  been  especially  this  book  which  caused  Chaucer 
to  attach  to  his  friend's  name  the  epithet  which  has  represented 
during  many  years  for  many  a  reader  almost  his  whole  stock  of 
knowledge  about  John  Gower ; — that  he  was  called  "  moral  "  by 
Geoffrey  Chaucer.  John  Locke  four  or  five  times  in  an  essay  on 
Civil  Government,  written  just  after  the  English  Revolution,  with 
a  half  playful  seriousness  delivered  shots  from  Richard  Hooker 
out  of  a  book  which  Locke's  opponents  looked  upon  as  one  of 
their  own  great  fortress  guns.  When  doing  so  he  took  pleasure 
in  citing  his  author  again  and  again  as  "the  judicious  Hooker." 
Since  that  time  "  the  judicious  Hooker  "  has  kept  company  with 
"  the  moral  Gower." 

Chaucer's  adjective  was  very  naturally  used  in  the  dedication 
of  his  Troilus  and  Cressida  to  two  of  his  own  intimate  friends, 
a  poet  and  a  philosopher,  John  Gower  and  Ralph  Strode. 

"  O  morall  Gower,  this  book  I  direct 

To  thee  and  the  philosophicall  Strode, 
To  vouchen  safe  there  need  is  to  correct, 
Of  your  benignites  and  zeles  good." 

That  the  friendship  between  Chaucer  and  Gower  was  intimate 
is  proved  by  the  fact  that,  in  1378,  when  Chaucer  was  sent  with 
Sir  Edward  Berkeley  to  Lombardy  on  a  political  mission,  he  left 
John  Gower  as  one  of  two  representatives  who  were  to  act  for 
him  in  his  absence,  appearing  for  him  in  the  courts  if  any  legal 
proceedings  should  chance  to  be  instituted. 

Gower's  "  Confessio  Amantis  "  was  not  written  when  Chaucer 
in  the  close  of  Troilus  and  Cressida  dedicated  that  poem  to  him ; 
and  Troilus  and  Cressida  seems  also  to  have  been  written  earlier 
than  Gower's  Latin  poem,  "  Vox  Clamantis,"  the  Voice  of  One 
Crying.  This  poem  was  suggested  by  the  Jack  Straw  Rebellion 
of  May  1381,  which  began  at  Gower's  own  doors,  including  people 
who  lived  on  estates  of  his  own  in  Kent  and  Essex. 

Now  John  Gower  was  a  country  gentleman  averse  to  all  violent 
change.  His  bias  was  conservative.  He  looked  with  no  favour 
on  the  Lollards,  as  passages  in  the  "  Confessio  Amantis "  show, 
and  he  felt  keenly  the  danger  of  a  triumph  of  mob  law.  But  he 
said  in  his  "Vox  Clamantis"  that  no  blind  Fortune  governs  the 


INTRODUCTION.  xr 

nff.iirs  of  men;  our  world  is  as  we  make  it  ;  whatever  happens  to 
us,  '*  nos  sumus  in  causa."  The  disorder  in  his  time,  however 
dangerous,  must  have  its  exciting  causes  in  the  life  of  the  com 
munity,  and  he  resolved  to  look  through  the  whole  framework  of 
our  social  system.  This  he  would  do  in  a  poem  that  should 
speak  through  Latin  to  the  educated,  boldly  pointing  out  wrongs 
to  be  righted  without  shaping  war-cries  for  the  ignorant.  All 
England  would  have  echoed  to  that  bold  crying  out  on  the 
condition  of  the  clergy  and  the  people  if  it  had  been  heard  in 
English,  free  as  the  Latin  verses  poured  out  with  as  much  facility 
as  if  Gower  were  writing  in  his  mother-tongue.  In  those  verses 
Gower — a  good  orthodox  Churchman — was  outspoken  in  con 
demning  all  corruption,  even  that  by  which  the  Papacy  was 
tainted.  He  was  vigorous  with  calm  invective  of  a  righteous 
man  who  had  wit  and  humour  at  command  for  use  in  homeliest 
plain  speaking.  "  I  do  not,"  he  said,  "  affect  to  touch  the  stars, 
or  write  the  wonders  of  the  poles  ;  but  rather,  with  the  common 
human  voice  that  is  lamenting  in  this  land,  I  write  the  ills  I  see. 
God  knows,  my  wish  is  to  be  useful ;  that  is  the  prayer  that  directs 
my  labour.  No  hatred  urges  me.  In  the  Voice  of  my  Crying 
there  will  be  nothing  doubtful,  for  every  man's  knowledge  will  be 
its  best  interpreter."  He  prays  that  his  verse  may  not  be  turgid ; 
that  there  may  be  in  it  no  word  of  untruth ;  that  each  word  may 
answer  to  the  thing  it  speaks  of  pleasantly  and  fitly;  that  he  may 
flatter  in  it  no  one,  and  seek  in  it  no  praise  above  the  praise  of 
God.  "  Give  me  that  there  shall  be  less  vice  and  more  virtue  for 
my  speaking."  That  is  the  true  homeliness  of  the  best  English 
literature,  and  in  that  spirit  he  wrote  the  "  Confessio  Amantis." 

Gower's  English  poem,  the  "Confessio  Amantis,"  was,  like 
Chaucer's  "  Canterbury  Tales,"  a  device  for  the  stringing  of  a  large 
number  of  stories  upon  some  slender  thread  of  narrative  that  should 
run  through  them  all,  in  the  way  that  had  been  made  popular  by 
the  great  recent  success  of  Boccaccio's  "Decameron."  Gower 
probably  had  written  much  of  the  "  Confessio  Amantis "  before 
Chaucer  planned  his  "Canterbury  Tales.''  Both  poets  worked 
sometimes  on  the  same  material ;  while,  now  and  then,  Gower 
seems  to  have  inspired  Chaucer  with  a  desire  to  tell  again  one  of 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

his  friend's  good  stories.  It  is  difficult  to  know  precisely  when 
Gower's  "  Confessio  Amantis"  was  first  written.  In  its  earliest 
form,  as  set  forth  in  the  Harleian  MS.,  3490,  (lower  said— 
without  then  naming  as  a  date  "the  yere  sixtenthe  of  King 

Richard'" that  he  wrote  it  at  the  request  of  Richard  the  Second. 

He  had  met  the  King's  barge  when  rowing  on  the  Thames,  and 
Richard,  having  invited  him  on  board,  asked— 

"  That  to  his  highe  worthy nesse 
Some  newe  thing  I  shulde  boke, 
That  he  himself  it  mighte  loke 
After  the  forme  of  my  writing." 

Gower  adds  that  although  he  had  long  been  out  of  health,  he 
did  his  best  for  the  king — 

"  To  make  a  boke  after  his  heste, 
And  write  in  such  a  manner  wise 
Which  may  be  wisdom  to  the  wise, 
And  play  to  hem  that  list  to  play." 

Professor  John  W.  Hales  has  reasoned  that  the  work  could  only 
have  been  thus  undertaken,  and  completed — as  it  is  in  that  first 
form — with  a  loyal  dedication  to  Richard  II.,  at  a  time  when 
Gower  had  yet  hope  in  the  young  King.  Such  hope  was  possible 
only  before  the  year  1386.  In  1386  the  great  barons  of  England 
were  active  under  the  lead  of  the  King's  uncle,  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  whom  Gower  in  the  Latin  verse  of  a  "Tripartite 
Chronicle  "  has  honoured  as  the  Swan.  Richard  was  then  com 
pelled  to  establish  a  Regency  for  twelve  months.  Professor 
Hales,  looking  for  a  date  before  1386,  finds  several  allusion^ 
that  suggest  to  him  the  end  of  1383  and  the  year  1384  as  the 
time  when  the  poem  may  have  been  first  written.  Afterwards  in 
"  the  yere  sixtenthe  of  King  Richard,"  homage  to  the  King  was 
struck  out  of  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  poem.  Bolingbroke 
— Henry  of  Lancaster — was  addressed  in  his  place,  and  Gower, 
like  Langland,  had  turned  his  back  upon  an  evil  King  whose 
deposition  was  the"  best  hope  of  the  country. 

The  sixteenth  year  of  King  Richard,  in  which  Gower  changed 
the  dedication  of  his  poem,  was  the  year  1393.  In  1393-4 


INTRODUCTION.  xvii 

Henry  of  Lancaster  presented  a  collar  to  Gower,  possibly  in 
recognition  of  the  dedication  thus  transferred  to  him.  Gower 
is  represented  on  his  tomb  as  wearing  the  collar  of  SS  with  a 
small  Swan  chained ;  but  Henry  of  Lancaster  did  not  assume  the 
Swan  as  his  badge  until  after  the  murder  of  Gloucester  in  1397. 
The  collar  of  SS  must,  therefore,  have  been  a  later  gift. 

In  1397,  the  year  of  Gloucester's  murder,  for  which  Richard 
was  responsible,  Gower  resigned  his  Essex  rectory,  and  resigned 
the  world.  Being  then  about  seventy  years  old,  he  married 
Agnes  Groundolf  in  a  chapel  of  his  own,  under  rooms  to  which 
he  retired  with  her  for  the  rest  of  his  life  within  the  Priory  of  St. 
Mary  Overies,  now  known  as  St.  Saviour's,  on  the  Southwark 
side  of  London  Bridge.  The  old  Priory  was  then  being  for  the 
second  time  rebuilt,  and  Gower  contributed  so  liberally  to  the 
building  works  that  upon  his  death  in  1408,  after  eleven  years 
of  residence  among  them — during  eight  of  the  years  blind — the 
brethren  built  for  him  a  handsome  tomb,  on  which  they  carved 
his  figure  in  effigy.  They  represented  him  with  his  head  resting 
on  the  three  books  he  had  written,  in  French,  Latin,  and  English. 
They  also  paid  him  pious  honour  on  a  painted  window  which 
another  kind  of  piety  has  since  destroyed.  The  tomb  remains. 
The  effigy  upon  it  helps  us  to  recall  him  in  his  habit  as  he  lived. 
But  in  this  volume  his  mind  lives  again  for  friendly  and  familiar 
speech  among  all  classes  of  his  countrymen. 

In  the  "Confessio  Amantis"  Gower,  of  course,  so  chose  his 
connecting  matter  that  he  might  bring  his  tales  into  distinct 
groups,  with  each  group  armed  for  battle  against  one  of  the 
Seven  Deadly  Sins.  He  added  one  book  more,  based  on  a 
work  popular  in  the  Middle  Ages,  the  "  Secretum  Secretorum," 
ascribed  to  Aristotle.  It  set  forth  the  Duties  of  a  King,  and 
Gower  inserted  it  because  he  was  writing  the  poem  for  King 
Richard  the  Second,  who  was  in  much  need  of  such  instruction. 
Gower  contrived  also  to  mix  with  his  stories  much  knowledge 
upon  matters  of  philosophy  and  science.  Indeed  if  we  add  all 
the  record  of  what  Aristotle  taught  Alexander  to  the  other  good 
doctrine  of  the  Confessor,  we  have  the  substance  of  a  fair 
education  for  any  modern  reader  who  does  not  mind  being  five 

B 


xviii  INTRODUCTION. 

hundred  years  behind  the  day.  The  book  will  have  for  many 
readers  an  interest,  apart  from  its  tales,  in  its  pleasant  record  of 
the  kind  of  knowledge  that  a  well-trained  man  thought  worth 
diffusing  in  the  latter  half  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

The  reader  to  whom  old  English  is  new  English  will  after 
experience  of  a  few  pages  slip  into  Gower's  music,  and  find  his 
lines  easier  reading  than  some  even  of  the  good  verse  published 
in  our  time. 

In  reading  aloud  these  differences  between  old  and  new  English 
should  be  remembered : 

(1)  The  old  pronunciation  of  the  vowels  was  nearer  than  it 
now   is   to   the  practice  abroad,  as  its  survival  in  our  country 
dialects  will  help  to  show. 

(2)  Words  added  to  our  vocabulary  from  the  Norman  French 
were  nearer  to  their  source,  and  usually  had  their  accents  near  the 
close,  as  they  are  placed  in  French. 

(3)  As  a  general  rule  a  vowel   at   the   end   of  a  word  was 
sounded  if  the  next  word  began  with  a  consonant,  and  had  no 
separate  sound  if  the  next  word  began  with  a  vowel. 

(4)  Verbs  in  *  eth,'  like  '  cometh,'  were  pronounced  often,  but 
not  necessarily,  without  regarding  the  *  eth '  as  more  of  a  syllable 
than  the  '  es '  in  comes. 

(5)  Where  'th'  or  *vj  came  between  two  short  syllables,  as  in 
whether,  other,  ever,  there  was  usually  an  elision.     In  the  text 
here  given  '  whether '  was  generally  written  '  where '  (whe'er) ;  in 
other  such  words  the  reader  makes  the  contraction  for  himself. 
The  metre  tells  him  when  to  do  so. 

(6)  The  conjunction  'and'  was  not  necessarily  placed  at  the 
beginning  of  a  clause  connected  by  it  with  preceding  matter.     It 
may  stand  within  the  clause  as  the  word  '  also '  does  in  modern 
English. 

Some  of  Gower's  commonest  forms,  like  'sigh'  for  saw,  will 
become  quickly  familiar.  Because  an  equivocal  word  like  '  not ' 
for  '  ne  wot ' — know  not — might  cause  a  stumble  now  and  then, 
I  have  interpreted  that  and  other  such  words  rather  often  in 
the  footnotes,  the  purpose  of  those  notes  being  to  interrupt  the 
text  as  little  as  possible,  while  enabling  the  eye  to  take  in  at 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

once  the  meaning  of  an  obsolete  word  or  form.  Where  the  same 
word  often  recurs,  the  explanation  is  repeated  often  but  not 
always :  often  enough,  it  is  hoped,  for  the  convenience  of  a 
reader  who  dips  into  the  book  for  a  tale  or  two,  and  has  not 
yet  read  it  through.  The  only  modernised  word  is  the  pronoun 
'  thee '  in  a  few  earlier  pages  of  the  volume.  It  had  in  Gower's 
time,  like  'me,'  only  one  *e.'  This  of  course  gives  readers  the 
trouble  of  discriminating  between  pronoun  and  article.  Wher 
ever  in  the  early  pages  of  the  book  the  word  'thee'  is  found, 
the  second  '  e '  is  of  my  adding ;  but  after  those  earlier  pages  I 
have  avoided  making  even  that  slight  alteration. 

A  few  notes  on  the  sources  of  Gower's  Tales  will  be  found  in 
the  Table  of  Contents.  Of  John  Gower  himself  and  of  his  works 
a  fuller  account  than  it  is  here  possible  to  give  will  be  found  in 
the  fourth  volume  of  my  "  English  Writers." 

H.  M, 

CARISBROOKE,  March  1889. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE5? 

PROLOGUE    .  33-43 


JSOOfe  I. 

THE  LOVER  AND  HIS  CONFESSOR.       .....    49-52 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  SHRIFT 53 

DANGERS  OF  SIGHT  AND  HEARING      ,   v  .       .    '  ,\     ,    53-57 

Story  of  Actaeon  and  Diana 54 

(From  Book  III.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.} 

Story  of  the  Gorgons          »        .        .     •  ,        .        .        •     54>  55 
(From  Book  21T.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.) 

The  Serpent  Aspides 55>5& 

(From  Book  XII.  cap.  iv.  sect.   12  of  the  Etymologia  of  St. 
Isidore  of  Seville. 

THE  SEVEN  DEADLY  SINS. 

I.  PRIDE      ...       .       .       ,  '    *       .'     'v  •    .       .    57-95 
i.  Hypocrisy 

Story  of  Mundus  and  Paulina     .        •        ,        .        .     59-63 
(From  Jostphns,  Lib.  XV II I.  cap.  3.     Boccaccio's  second 
novel  of  the  fourth  day  is  of  this  type.) 

Story  of  the  Trojan  Horse 64, 65 

(Goiver's  Tales  of  Troy  are  chiefly  from  Gnido  de  Colonna^ 
Dares  Phrygiust  or  the  Geste  de  Troit  by  Beitoit  de  St. 

Alaure. 

Ciobedience .       .       .    66, 67 
Story  of  the  Knight  Florentius 68-74 
(Used  by  Chaucer  as  his  Wife  of  Bath's  Tale.) 


xxii  CONTENTS. 


PAGES 


3.  Surquederie 74~76 

Story  of  the  Proud  Knight  Capaneus      ...  76 

(From  Book  X.  of  the  Thebaid of Statins.) 

Story  of  the  Trump  of  Death 76-79 

(From  the  Speculum  Hisloriale  of  Vincent  of  Bcam'ais, 
or  from  its  original  in  Damascenus's  Romance  of 
Barlaam  and  Josaphat.} 

Story  of  Narcissus 80,  8 1 

(From  Book  III.  of  Ovhfs  Metamorphoses. ) 

4.  Boasting 81,82 

Story  of  Alboin  and  Rosmunda       ....         82-84 
(From  Part  XVJ1.  of  the  Pantheon  of  Godfrey  of  1'iteibo.) 

5.  Vainglory 85,  86 

Story  of  Nebuchadnezzar         .....         87-90 
(From  the  Book  of  Daniel.) 

Summary. 
Story  of  the  Wise  Petronella  .        t  9Q~95 


3BOO&  BE. 

OF  ENVY. 

1.  Grudging, 

Story  of  Acis  and  Galatea 97~99 

(From  Book  XIII.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.} 

2.  Gladness  at  Grief  of  others. 

Story  of  the  Angel  and  Two  Travellers  .        .        .     ico,  101 
r-*»»         (From  the  Fables  of  Avian.} 

I  3-  Detraction. 

Stoiy  of  the  pious  Constance 104-117 

/  (Partly  from   the  Speculum   Hisloriale   of  Vincent  of 

Beauvais,  and  the  Rhyme  of  Emare.     Used  by  Chaucer 
in  the  Man  of  Laiues  Tale.} 

Story  of  Demetrius  and  Perseus,  sons  of  Alexander     117-121 
(  The  Treachery  of  Perseus  from  the  Epitome  of  7ro°us 
Pompeins,  by  Justimts,  Lib.  XXXII.  cap.  2.      The 
anecdote  of  the  dog  in  Valerius  Maximus  de  Dictis  et 
Factis  Memorabilibus,  Lib.  I.  cap.  5,  sect.  Rom.  3.) 


CONTENTS.  xxiii 

I'M, I   -, 

4.  Dissimulation. 

Story  of  Hercules  and  Dejanira.  and  the  Dissimu 
lation  of  Nessus  125-127 

(Ovui',  Heroides,  Ep.  IX.  ;  Metamorphoses,  Book  IX.). 

7  Supplantation. 

Agamemnon's  taking  of  Briseis  from  Achilles         .     128,  129 
(Geste  of  Troy.) 

The  Supplanting    of  Troilus    with    Cressida    by 

Diomede 129 

(From.  Chaucer's  '2'roihis  and  Cressida.} 

Story  of  Amphitryon's  personating  Geta  with 
Alcmene 129 

Story  of  the  Roman  Emperor's  son,  the  Caliph 
of  Egypt's  daughter,  and  the  Knight's  false 
bachelor 129-133 

Story  of  Pope  Boniface's  Supplantation  of  Pope 
Celestine  '  .  .  .  .  •  .  .  .  .  133-136 

The  Deaths  of  Abner  and  Achitophel     ...  137 

Summary. 

The  Praise  of  Charity  and  Story  of  the  Leprosy  of 

Constantine 138-142 


:fBoofe 

OF  WRATH, 
i.  Melancholy. 

Story  of  Canace  from  Ovid,  Heroides,  Ep.  XI.       .  143 

Against  this  story  Chaucer  protested  in  the  Prologue  to 
the  Man  of  Lau'es  7*ale,  ivhere  he  made  the  Man  of 
Lawes,  after  giving  a  list  of  tales  that  had  been  told 
by  Chaucer,  add — 

"  But  certainly  no  word  ne  writeth  he 
Of  thilke  wicke  ensample  of  Canace, 
That  loved  here  owen  brother  sinfully ; 
Of  all  swiche  cursed  stories  I  say  fy." 


xxiv  CONTENTS. 

As  all  readers  must  agree  with  Chaucer,  I  omit  this 
tale.  Cower  against  his  oivn  hauittial  good  sens? 
has  by  some  aberration  of  mind  here  made  his  Con 
fessor  tolerant  of  incest.  Chaucer  cojidemns  also  the 
repulsive  incident  of  King  Antiochus  in  the  story  of 
Apollonius  of  Tyre.  But  that  is  necessary  to  the 
tale,  and  Gower  does  not  there,  or  anywhere  else 
than  in  the  Tale  of  Canace,  confuse  the  boundaries  of 
right  and  wrong.  I  have  dropped,  however,  here  and 
there  a  few  honest  but  unwholesome  lines  that  no 
reader  will  miss. 

Story  of  Tiresias  and  the  Two  Serpents  .        .        .  145 

2.  Chiding. 

Story  of  the  Patienceof  Socrates  with  a  Chiding  Wife     148,  149 

Story  of  Tiresias,  arbiter  between  Jupiter  and  Juno     149,  150 

(From  Ovid.)  —\/l/l 

Story  of  the  Crow  turned  black       .        .    '    .        .  1 50 

3-  Hate. 

Story  of  the  Revenge  of  King  Nauplius  for  the 

murder  of  his  son  Palamedes  .        .        .        .152,153 
( Geste  of  Troy. ) 

4-  Contest. 

5.  Homicide. 

Story  of  Diogenes  and  Alexander   ....     155-157 
(From  Valerius  Maximus,  Lib.  IV.  cap.  in.  sect.  ext.  4.) 

Story  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe 1S7~IS9  7 

(From  Book  IV.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.) 

Story  of  Phoebus  and  Daphne         ....     161,162 
(From  Book' I.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.) 

Story  of  Demophon  and  Acamas     ....     162-165 
Story  of  Orestes 165-168 

Story  of  Alexander  and  the  Pirate  .         .         .         .     170,171 
(From   Augustine   DC    Civitate   Dei  and  the    Gesta 
J\omanorum. ) 


CONTENTS.  xxv 

PAGES 

Summary. 

The  Praise  of  Mercy,  Story  of  the  Reward  of  Tela- 
phus,  son  of  Achilles,  for  the  Mercy  he  had 
shown  to  Teucer 1 73-175 


»00fe  IF. 
OF  SLOTH. 

1.  Delay. 

Delay  of  y£neas,  that  caused  the  Death  of  Dido   .     177,  178    , 
(From  Book  XIV.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.} 

Delayed  Return  of  Ulysses  to  Penelope         .        .     178,  179 

Story  of  Grosteste's    Brazen    Head,   and    Seven 

Years'  Labour  lost  by  Delay  of  Half  a  Minute  79 

Parable  of  the  Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins        .        .  179 

2.  Pusillanimity. 

Story  of  Pygmalion,  who,  by  giving  his  whole  mind 

to  it,  made  a  stone  live 180,  181 

(From  Book  X.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.) 

3.  Forgetfulness. 

Story  of  Phyllis  and  Demophon     ....     184-186 
(From  Ep.  II.  of  Ovid's  Heroidcs  and  Chaucer's  Legend 
of  Good  Women.} 

4.  Negligence. 

Story  of  Phaeton 187,188 

(From  Book  II.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.} 

Story  of  Icarus         .        .        .         .         ;         .         . '  1 88 

(From  Book  VIII.  of  Ovid 's  Metamorphoses.} 

5.  Idleness. 

Story  of  Rosiphele  .  ....     189-104 

(From  Ilclinand,  through  the  Lai  du  Trot.) 

How  Nauplius  forced  Ulysses  to  leave  Penelope    .  196,  197 

How  Protesilaus  went  to  Troy        ....  197 

How  Saul  went  to  battle  at  Gilboa                  .  197,  198 

How  the  Centaur  Chiron  taught  Achilles        .        .  198 


xxvi  CONTENTS. 

PAGES 

How  Hercules  won  Dejanira 199,  200 

How  /Eneas  won  Lavinia 200 

Of  the  men  whose  industry  shaped  human  know 
ledge  (The  Praise  of  Industry)         ,         .         .     201-206 

6.  Somnolence. 

Story  of  Ceix    ......  .     208-2 1 1 

(From  Book  XI.  of  Ovid 's  MctamorpJioses.} 

Story  of  Argus  and  Mercury 212 

( From  Book  I.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses. ) 

Story  of  Iphis  and  Anaxarete  ....     214-216 

(From  Book  XIV.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.} 


u. 

OF  AVARICE. 

Story  of  Midas         .......     219-221 

(From  Book  XI.  fffOvltt's  Metamorphoses.} 

Story  of  Tantalus 221,222 

1.  Jealousy,  the  Avarice  of  Love. 

Stoiy  of  Vulcan,  Venus,  and  Mars  .         .         .     224,225 

Digression  upon  the  Religions  of  the  Ancient  World 

and  of  the  Jewish  and  Christian  Faiths   .         .     225-238 

Story    of   the    Corruption    of    Thoas,    Priest    of 

Minerva    .         .         .         ......         .         .  238 

Avarice  in  the  Church     ......     238-240 

2.  Cupidity. 

Story  of  Virgil's  Magic  Mirror         .....     241-244 

Story  of  the  Choice  between  two  Colters         .         .     244,  245 
(From  Boccaccio's  Decameron,  Day  X.  novel  I,  pre 
viously  in  Baarlaam  and  Josaphat,  and  in  Vincent 
of  Beauvais''  Speculum  Historiale.} 

Similar  Story  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.,  Two 

Beggars  and  Two  Pies 245,  246 


CONTENTS.  xxvii 

PAGES 

Story  of  the  Sordid  Love  of  a  King's  Steward  of 

Apulia 248-250 

3.  False  Witness  and  Perjury. 

Story  of  Achilles  and  Deidamia      ....     252-255 

Story  of  Medea 255-267- 

(From  Book  VII.  of  Ovid1  s  Metamorphoses.} 

Story  of  Phryxus  and  Hellen 267-269 

4-  Usury. 

Story  of  Echo ,  272 

5.  Parsimony. 

Story  of  Babio,  who  lost  the  love  of  Viola       .         .     274,  275 

6.  Ingratitude. 

Story  of  Bardus,  the  Fagot  Gatherer      .        .         .     276-278 
{An  Arabian   Tale  in  the   Calilah-u-Ditmnaht    told 
by  Matthe~M  Paris  as  a  parable  applied  to  false 
friends  by  Richard  I.  after  his   return  from  the 
East.     Also  in  the  Gesta  Romanori4m.) 

Stoiy  of  Theseus  and  Ariadne        ....     279-282. 
(Ovid,  Heroides,  Ep.  X.) 

7.  Violent  Seizure. 

Story  of  Progne  and  Philomen        ....     283-290  / 
(From  Book  VI.  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.) 

8.  Robbery. 

Story  of  Neptune  and  Cornix 290,291 

„  Jupiter  and  Callisto  .  .  .  .291, 292 
„  The  Fair  Youth  Phirinus  .  .  .  292, 293 
„  The  Old  Emperor  Valentinian  .  .  293, 294 

9.  Secret  Theft. 

Story  of  Phoebus  and  Leucothoe     ....     297,  298 
(From  Book  III.  of ' Ovitfs  Metamorphoses.) 

Story  of  the  Misadventure  of  Faunus  with  Hercules 
and  Eolen 298, 299 


xxviii  CONTENTS. 

PAGES 

10.  Sacrilege. 

Story  of  Nebuchadnezzar 300,  301 

Story  of  the  Theft  of  the  Gold  Beard,  Mantle,  and 

Ring  from  the  Image  of  Apollo   .        .        .        .301,302 

{From  the  Gesta  Ronianorurn.) 

Story  of  the  Abduction  of  Helen  from  the  Temple 
of  Venus       , 304-309 

Summary. 

The  Praise  of  Liberality 309-312 


m. 

OF  GLUTTONY. 

1.  Drunkenness. 

Story  of  Cupid  the  Blind  Butler      .        .        .  .317,318 

Jupiter's  Answer  to  a  Prayer  of  Bacchus         .  .  318 

Tristram  Drunk  with  Love  for  La  Belle  Isolde  .  319 

Story  of  Pirithous  and  the  Centaurs        .         .  .     319,320 

Story  of  the  Drunkenness  of  Galba  and  Vitellus  .  320 

2.  Daintiness. 

Story  of  Dives  and  Lazarus 325,  326 

Luxury  of  Nero 327 

Story  of  Ulysses  and  Circe 33°~335 

Story    of    Nectanabus     and    King    Philip's    wife 
Olympia .     335-341 

Summary. 

The  Praise  of  Wisdom  :  Teaching  of  Alexander    .  342 


CONTENTS. 


XXIX 


FH. 


HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT. 

What  Aristotle  taught  Alexander       ....  343 

OfTheorique  .         .         .        .        .         .         .         .  344-352 

Of  Rhetoriquc          ,        .         .         .         .         .         .  352-360 

Of  Practiquc    .         .         «         .....  360 

The  Duties  of  a  King      ......  360-392 

Story  of  what  is  stronger  than  Wine,  Woman,  or 

the  King        ......  361-364 

„       Caesar  and  the  Poor  Knight  Cynicus         .  365 

„       Aristippus  and  Diogenes  ....  367,  368 

.,       Caesar  and  the  Man  who  would  be  Wise  .  369,  370 

„       Ahab,  King  of  Israel          .         ...         .  370-372 

„       Fabricius  and  Gold  of  the  Samnites          .  373,  374 

„       The  Just  Consul        .....  374,  375 

„      The  Flaying  of  the  Unjust  Judge     .        .  375 
„      The  Oath  taken  by  Lycurgus    .        .        -375,  376 

„       The  Pagan  and  the  Jew    .         .         .         .  378-380 

„       Codrus,  who  died  for  his  People       .         .  380,  381 

„       Pompey's  Pity  for  a  Captive  King     .         .  381 

„      Leontius  and  Justinian      .        .        .        .  381,382 
(From    Panlns  Diaconus  :   Historia   Miscclla,    Lib. 
XIX.  A'.V.) 

Story  of  the  Bull  of  Perillus     .....  382 

Stories  of  the  Tyrant  Dionysius  and  of  Lycaon      .  382,  383 

Story  of  Spertachus  and  Thamaris  ....  383,  384 
(From  Justin,  Lib.  /.,  cap.  viii.,  Veil.  Max.  ix.  10, 
ext.  i.) 

Story  of  Gideon       .......  386-388 

The  Sparing  of  Agag       ......  388,389 


xxx  CONTENTS. 

PAGES 

King  Lucius  and  his  Fool 39°339i 

Story  of  Sardanapulus 393 

How  Cyrus  overcame  the  Lydians  ....  393,  394 

How  Amalek  overcame  the  Hebrews     .        .        .  394 

OF  LUST. 

Story  of  Tarquin  and  Lucrece          ....  396-402 
(From    Augustine's    De   Civitate    Dei    through     the 
Gesta  Romanorum,} 

Story  of  Virginius 402-404 

Story  of  Tobit          . 404, 405 


:iBoofe  ura. 

Of  Unlawful  Love    .        .        .        .        ,        .        .     407-410 

Story  of  Apollonius  of  Tyre 410-435 

(From  a  Greek  Metrical  Romance  translated  in  the 
eleventh  century  into  Latin  prose,  as  *  Apollonii 
Tyrii  Historia.'  A  version  of  it  is  in  the  Pantheon 
of  Godfrey  of  Viterbo,  whence  it  was  taken  by  Cower, 
and  through  Cower  passed  into  the  play  of  Pericles, 
which  is  included  among  the  plays  of  Shakespeare. 
A  French  Prose  Romance  on  the  same  stibject  was  the 
foundation  of  the  English  Chronicle  of  Apolyn  of 
Tyre,  printed  by  Wynkin  de  Worde  in  1510.) 

THE  SHRIFT  ENDED   AND   THE   LOVER'S  AB 
SOLUTION    .       .       .       .       .       .       .       .    435-446 


CONFESSIO    AMANTIS 


CONFESSIO    AMANTIS. 


/r\f  fjcm,  that  writen  us  to-fore, 
vJ?     The  bokes  dwelle,  and   we 

therfore 

Ben  taught  of  that  was  writen  tho.1 
Forthy  good  is,  that  we  also 
In  ourd  time  amonge  us  here 
Do  write  of  newd  some  matere 
Ensampled  of  the  olde  wise, 
So  that  it  might  in  suche  a  wise,. 
Whan  we  be  dede  and  ellds  where, 
Belevd 2  to  the  worldds  ere 
In  time*  comend  after  this. 
But  for  men  sain,  and  sothe  it  is, 
That  who  that  al  of  wisdom  writ 
It  dulleth  ofte  a  mannds  wit 
To  hem  that  shall  it  allday  rede, 
For  thilkd  cause  if  that  ye  rede 
I  woldd  go  the  middel  wey 
And  write  a  boke  betwene  the  twey 
I    Somwhat  of  lust,  somwhat  of  lore, 
"That  of  the  lasse  or  of  the  more 
Som  man  may  like  of  that  I  write. 
And  for  that  fewc  men  endite 
In  oure  englisshe,  I  thenke  make3 
/"A  bokd  for  Englondds  sake 

l   Tho,  then.  -  AVAtr,  remain. 

:!  This  was  the  original  form  of  the  passage, 
MS.  Harl.  3400: 

In  our  englisshe  I  thenke"  make 

A  bok£  for  king  Richardes  sake. 

To  whom  belongeth  my  legeaiince 

With  all  min  herte's  obeisaCince 

In  all  that  ever  a  legd  man 

Unto  his  king  may  don  or  can, 

So  ferforth,  and  me  recommaunde 

To  him  which  all  me  may  commauude, 


The  yere  sixtentheof  King  Richard, 
What  shall  befalle  here  afterward 
God  wote,  for  nowe  upon  this  side 
Men  seen  the  worlde  on  every  side 

Preiend  unto  the  highe"  regne 
Which  causeth  every  king  to  regnc 
That  his  coron6  longe"  stonde. 

I  thenke  and  have  it  understondc, 
As  it  befell  upon  a  tide, 
As  thing  which  shulde"  tho  betide, 
Under  the  town  of  newd  Troy, 
Which  toke  of  Brute  his  first£  joy, 
In  Themse",  whan  it  was  flowdnd, 
As  I  by  bole"  came  row£nd 
So  as  Fortune  her  time"  sette, 
My  legd  lord  perchaunce  I  mettc. 
And  so  befell  as  I  came  nigh 
Out  of  my  bote,  whan  he  me  sigh, 
He  bad  me  come  into  his  barge. 
And  whan  I  was  with  him  at  large, 
Among^s  other  thinge's  said 
He  hath  this  charge  upon  me  laid 
And  bad  me  do  my  besinesse, 
That  to  his  highe"  worthynesse 
Some  new£  thing  I  shuldd  boke, 
That  he  him  self  it  mights'  loke 
After  the  forme  of  my  writing. 
And  thus  upon  his  commaunding 
Min  herte  is  well  the  mor6  glad 
To  write"  so  as  he  me  bad. 
And  eke  my  fere  is  well  the  lasse, 
That  none  envie'  shall  compasse 
Without  a  resonable  wite  1 
To  feigne  and  blame",  that  I  write. 
A  gentil  herte  his  tung6  stilleth 
That  it  malice"  none  distilleth 
But  preise"  that  is  to  be  preised. 
But  he  that  hath  his  worde  unpeised 
And  handleth  out  wrong  any  thiny, 
I  pray  unto  the  heven  king 
Fro  suche"  tunges  he  me  shilde. 
And  netheles  this  world  is  wildc 
Of  suche  jangling,  and  what  befalle. 
My  kingds  hest^  shall  nought  falle, 
That  I  in  hope"  to  deserve 
His  thank  ne  shall  his  will  observe 
And  ellcs  were  1  nought  excused. 


H'itc,  blame. 


34 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


In  sondry  wise  so  di versed, 

That  it  wel  nigh  stant  all  reversed. 

Als  for  to  speke  of  time  ago, 
The  cause*  why  it  chaungeth  so 
It  nedeth  nought  to  specific, 
The  thing  s*o  open  is  at  eye, 
That  eveiy  man  it  may  beholde. 
And  netheles  by  daids  olde, 
Whan  that  the  bokes  weren  lever,1 
Wri tinge  was  beloved  ever 
Of  hem  that  weren  vertuous. 
For  here  in  erthc  amonge's  us, 
If  no  man  write  howe  it  stood, 
The  pris  of  hem  that  were  good 
Shulde,  as  who  saith,  a  great  partie, 
Be  lost ;  so  for  to  magnifie 
The  worthy  princes  that  tho  were 
The  bokds  shewen  here  and  there 
Wherof  the  worlde  ensampled  is, 
And  tho  that  diden  then  amis 
Through  tiranny  and  cruelte, 
Right  as  they  stonden  in  degre 
So  was  the  writinge  of  the  werke. 
Thus  I  which  am  a  borel 2  clerke 
Purpose  for  to  write  a  boke 
After  the  worlde  that  whilom  toke 
Long  time  in  olde  claies  passed. 
But  for  men  sain  it  is  now  lassed  3 
In  worse  plight  than  it  was  tho, 

For  that  thing  may  nought  be  refused 
"What  that  a  king  him  selfe"  bit.4 
Forthy  the  simplesse  of  my  wit 
I  thenke  if  that  I  may  availe 
In  his  service"  to  travaile, 
Though  I  sikenesse  have  upon  hoiult: 
And  longe  have  had,  yet  woll  I  fonde,5 
So  as  I  made1  my  beheste, 
To  make  a  boke  after  his  heste 
And  write  in  such  a  maner  wise, 
Which  may  be  wisdome  to  the  wise 
And  play  to  hem  that  list  to  play. 
]jUt  in  proverbe  I  have  hercle  say, 
That  who  that  wel  his  werk  begmneth, 
The  rather  a  good  end  he  winneth. 

And  thus  the  prologue  of  my  boke 
After  the  world  that  whilom  toke, 
And  eke  somdele  e  after  the  newe 
I  woll  beginne  for  to  newe. 

1  Lever,  better  loved. 

'-;  fiord,  rough  homespun. 

3  Lzssed,  become  smaller. 

•*  Bit,  prays  for.  5  1'ondc,  tiy. 

6  Sotnaele,  some  part. 


I  thenke  for  to  touche  also 

The  world  which  neweth  every  day. 

So  as  I  can,  so  as  I  may. 

Though  I  sikenesse  have  upon honde 

And   longe  have   had,  yet  wol    I 

fonde1 

To  write  and  do  my  besinesse,        ( 
That  in  some  part,  so  as  I  gesse,    f 
The  wise  man  may  ben  advised.    • 
For  this  Prologue  is  so  assised, 
That  it  to  Wisdome  all  belongeth  ; 
That  wise  man  that  it  underfongeth 
He  shal  drawe  into  reme'mbraimce 
The  fortune  of  this  worlde's  chaimcc, 
The  which  no  man  in  his  personc 
May  kno\ve,  but  the  God  alone. 
Whan  the  Prologue  is  so  dispended, 
This  boke  shall  afterward  ben  ended 
Of  Love,  which  doth  many  a  wonder 
And  many  a  wise  man  hath  put    ; 

under ; 

And  in  this  wise  I  thenke  to  trcatc 
Towardes  hem,  that  now  be  greate, 
Betwene  the  vertue  and  the  vice 
Which  longeth  unto  this  office. 
But  for  my  wine's  ben  to  smale 
To  tellen  every  mannes  talc, 
This  boke,  upon  amendement, 
To  stonde  at  his  commaundemcnt, 
With  whom  min  herte  is  of  accordc, 
I  sende  unto  min  owne  lordc          ~| 
Which    of    Lancastre     is    Henry 


named. 


The  highe  god  hath  him  proclamecl 
Full  of  knighthod  and  alle'  grace. 
So  wolde  I  now  this  werke  embrace 
With  hoi  truste  and  with  hoi  beleve  : 
God  graunte  I  mote  it  well  achcvc. 
§lf  I  shall  drawe  into  my  mindc 
The  time*  passed,  than  I  finde 
The  worlde  stode  in  al  his  welthe, 
Tho  -  was  the  life  of  man  in  helthc, 
Tho  was  plente,  tho  was  richesse, 
Tho  was  the  fortune  of  prowe'ssc, 

1  Fonde,  try.  -  Tho,  then. 


: 


PROLOGUE. 


Tho   was    knighthodc    in    pris    by 

name, 

Wherof  the  wide  workles  fame 
Write  in  croniques  is  yet  witholde.1 
Justice  of  lawd  tho  was  holde, 
The  privelcge  of  regalie 
Was  sauf,  and  all  the  baron  ir 
Worshiped  was  in  his  estate. 
I  The  citees  knevven  no  debatr, 
|  The  people  stode  in  obeisaunce 
!  Under  the  reule  of  governaunce, 
And  pecs,  with  rightwisnesse  kesle, 
With  charitd  tho  stode  in  reste, 
Of  mannes  hertd  the  cordge 
Was  shewed  than  in  the  visage. 
The  word  was  liche  to  the  conceipte 
Withoutd  semblaunt  of  deceipte  ; 
iTho  was  there  unenvfed  love, 
\T\io  was  vertiie  set  above, 
And  vice  was  put  under  fote. 
Now   slant   the    crope   under    the 

rote, 

The  worlde  is  chaunged  overall, 
And  therof  moste  in  speciall 
(Jfhat  Love  is  falle  into  discorde. 
And  that  I  take  into  recorde 
Of  every  lond  for  his  partie 
The  comun  vois,  which  may  nought 

lie, 

Nought  upon  one,  but  upon  allc 
It  is  that  men  now  clepe  and  calle 
And  sain,  that  regnes  ben  devided, 
In  stede  of  love  is  hatd  guided, 
The  werrd  2  wol  no  pees  purchace, 
And   lawe   hath    take   her  double 

face, 

So  that  justice  out  of  the  wey 
WTith  rightwisnesse  is  gone  av  cy. 
And  thus,  to  loke  on  every  halve," 
Men  senc  the  sore"  without  salve, 
Whiche  al  the  worlde  hath  overtake. 
Ther  is  no  regne  of  allc  out  take,4 


e,  held  or  kept  \\  ith  us 

war. 

'A  On  d'cry  halve,  on  all  sidc>. 
•*  Out  take,  exceptcd. 


For  every  climat  hath  his  dele1 
After  the  turningc  of  the  whcle 
Which  blindd  Fortune  overthrow- 

elh, 

Wherof  the  certain  no  man  knoweth. 
The  heven  wot  what  is  to  done. 
But  we  that  dwelle  under  the  monc 
Stonde    in    this     worlde    upon    a 

were,2 

And  namdly  but "  the  powdr 
Of  hem  that  ben  the  worldds  guides. 
With  good  counseil  on  allc  sides 
Ben  kept  upright  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  Hatd  brekd  nought  thassisc 
Of  Lovd,  whiche  is  all  the  chefe 
To  kepe  a  regne  out  of  mischcfe  : 
For  alld  reson  woldd  this, 
|  That  unto  him,  which  the'  heved4  is, 
'  The  membrds  buxdm  shall  bowc, 
1  And  he  shuldeeke  here  trouth  alowr 
With  all  his  hert,  and  make  hem 

chere, 

For  good  counseil  is  good  to  here  ;  ) 
All  though  a  man  be  wise  him  selve,   ^> 
Vet  is  the  wisdome  more  of  twelve.    \ 
And  if  they  stonden  bolh  in  one, 
To  hope  it  werd  than  anone 
That  God  his  gracd  woldd  sendc 
To  make  of  thilkc  werrc  an  endc, 
Whiche    every   day   now  growcth 

newe, — 

And  thai  is  gretely  for  to  re\v  c, 
In  specidll  for  Cristds  sake, 
Which  wolde  his  owne  life  forsake 
Amonge  the  men  to  yeven  pees/' 
But  nowe  men  tellen  nelhdles, 
That  Love  is  fro  the  world  departed, 
So  slant  the  pees  uneven  parted 
With  hem  that  liven  now  a  daics. 
But  for  to  loke  at  all  assaies, 
To  him,  that  woldd  reson  seche 
After  the  comun  worldds  spechc, 

1  Dele,  share. 

-  Upon  a.  7t'cvv,  in  conflict  and  confusion. 
3  But,  unlos.  •»  /Atr./,  head. 

3  To  ya'eit  fees,  to  jive  peace. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


It  is  to  wonder  of  thilke  werre, 

In  which  none  wote  who  hath  the 

werre.1 

For  every  lond  him  self  deceiveth 
And  of  disese  his  parte  receiveth, 
And  yet  ne  take  men  no  kepe.2 
But  thilke'   Lorde,  whiche  al  may 

kepe, 

To  whom  no  counseil  may  be  hid 
Upon  the  world,  whiche  is  betid, 
Amende  that  wherof  men  pleine 
With  trewe  hertes  and  with  pleine, 
And  reconcile  Love  agayne, 
As  he,  whiche  is  king  soverayne 
Of  all  the  worldes  governaunce, 
And  of  his  highe'  purveiance 
Afferme  pees  bitwene  the  londes 
And  take  herecause  into  his  hondes, 
So    that    the    world    may    stande 

appesed 
And  his  godhede  also  be  plesed  '. 

^£o  thenke  upon  the  dales  olde 
The  life  of  clerkes  to  beholde, 
Men  sain,  how  that  they  were  tho 
Ensample  and  reule  of  alld  tho 
Which    of    wisdom    the    vertue 

soughten. 

Unto  the  God  first  they  besoughten 
As  to  the  substaunce  of  here  scole, 
That  they  ne  sholden  nought  befole 
Her  witte  upon  none  erthly  werkes, 
Whiche  were  ayein  th'estate  of 

clerkes, 
And   that   they  mighten    flee  the 

vice, 

Which  Simon  hath  in  his  office, 
Wherof  he  taketh  golde  in  honde. 
For  thilke'  time,  I  understonde, 
The  Lumbarde  made  non  eschaunge 
The  bisshopriche's  for  to  chaunge, 
Ne  yet  a  letter  for  to  sende 
For  dignite  ne  for  provende 

i  That  war  in  which  none  knows  who  has 
the  worse. 
-  Xo  kepe,  no  heed. 


Or  cured  or  withoute  cure, 
The  chirche'  keie  in  adventure 
Of  armes  and  of  brigantaille l 
Stood  no  thing  than  upon  bataille, 
To  fight  or  for  to  make  cheste  2 
It    thought    hem    thannd    nought 

honeste. 

But  of  simplesce  and  pacidnce 
They  maden  thanne'  no  defence. 
The  courte  of  worldly  regalie 
To  hem  was  thanne  no  bailie. 
The  vain  honour  was  nought  desired, 
Which  hath  the  proude  herte  fired. 
Humilite  was  tho  witholde 
And  pride  was  a  vice  holde.3 
Of  holy  chirche'  the  largesse 
Yaf  thanne  and  didd  great  almesse 
To  pouer  men  that  hadden  nede. 
They  were  eke  chast  in  word  and 

dede, 

Wherof  the  people  ensample  toke. 
Their  lust  was  al  upon  the  boke, 
Or  for  to  preche  or  for  to  preie 
To  wisse  4  men  the  righte  weie 
Of  such  as  stode  of  trouth  unlered. 
Lo,  thus  was  Peters  barge  stered 
Of  hem  that  thilke  time' 5  were. 
And  thus  came  first  to  manne's  ere 
The  feith  of  Criste,  and  alle  good 
Through  hem  that  thanne  weren 

good 
And  sobre  and  chaste  and  large  and 

wise. 

And  now,  men  sain,  is  other  wise. 
Simon  the  cause  hath  undertake, 
The  worldes  swerde  on  hond  is  take. 
And  that  is  wonder  netheles, 
Whan  Criste  him  self  hath  bode 6 

pees 

And  set  it  in  his  Testament, 
How  now  that  holy  chirche  is  went 
Of  that  here  lawe'  positife, 

1  Brigantaille,  armour.         2  CJicste,  strife. 
3  Holde,  esteemed.  *  J^isse,  teach. 

5  Thilke  time,  in  that  time. 

6  Bode,  commanded. 


PROLOGUE. 


Hath  set  to  makd  werre  and  strife 
For    worldds    goods    which    may 

nought  last ! l 

God  wote  the  cause*  to  the  last 
Of  ever>'  right  and  \\ronge  also. 
But  while  the  lawe  is  reuled  so 
That  clerkds  to  the  werre  entende, 
1  not  -  ho\v  that  they  shall  amende 
The  woful  worlde,  in  other  thinges 
To  makd  pees  betwen  the  kinges 
After  the  lawe  of  charitd, 
Which  is  the  proprd  duete* 
_Belongend  unto  the  presthode. 
But  as  it  thinketh  to  manhode, 
The  heven  is  fer,  the  worlde  is  nigh, 
And  vainglorye  is  eke  so  sligh,3 
Which  covetise  hath  now  witholde,4 
That  they  none   other   thing   be- 

holde 

But  only  that  they  mighten  winne. 
And  thus  the  werrds  they  beginne, 
Wherof  the  holy  chirche  is  taxed, 
That  in  the  point  as  it  is  axed 
The  dismd  5  goth  to  the  bataile, 
As   though    Crist   mightd   nought 

availe 

To  don  hem  right  by  other  weie. 
Into  the  swerd  the  chirchd  keie 
Is  torndd,  and  the  holy  bede 
Into  cursmge,  and  every  stede 
Whiche   sholdd   stonde   upon   the 

feith 

And  to  this  cause  an  erd  leyth 
Astondd  is  of  the  quarele. 
That  °  sholdd  be  the  worldes  hele 
Is  now,  men  sain,  the  pestildnce, 
Which  hath  exildd  pacience 
Fro  the  clergie  in  specidll. 
And  that  is  shewdd  overall 
In  any  thing  whan  they  be  greved. 
But  if  Gregoird  be  beleved 

1  For  the  transitory  goods  of  this  world. 

'-'  I  not,  I  know  not. 

•'•  Slig/i,  cunning. 

*  ir'itholde,  held  with,  had  for  comrade. 

c  Disine,  tithe.  •»  That,  that  which. 


As  it  is  in  the  bokes  write, 

He  dothe  us  somdele  for  to  wite  * 

The  cause  of  thilkd  prelacie, 

Where  God  isnought  of  compaignic. 

For  every  werke  as  it  is  founded 

Shall  stonde,  or  ellds  be  confounded. 

Who  that  only  for  Cristds  sake 

Desireth  curd  for  to  take 

And    nought   for   pride   of  thilke 

estate 

To  beare  a  name  of  a  preldte, 
He  shal  by  reson  do  profite 
In  holy  chirche,  upon  the  plite 
That  he  hath  set  his  conscience. 
But  in  the  worldds  reverence 
Ther  ben  of  suchd  many  glade 
Whan   they  to   thilke  •  estate  ben 

made, 

Nought  for  the  merite  of  the  charge 
But  for  they  wolde  hem  self  dis 
charge 

Of  poudrte  and  becomd  grete  ; 
And  thus  for  pompe  and  for  beyete- 
The  scribe  and  eke  the  pharisee 
Of  Moises  upon  the  see 
In  the  chaire  on  high  ben  set, 
Wherof  the  feith  is  oftd  let 3 
Whiche  is  betaken 4  hem  to  kepe. 
In  Cristds  cause  all  day  they  slepe, 
But  of  the  worlde  is  nought  foryete. 
For  wel  is  him  that  now  may  gete 
Office  in  court  to  be  honoured. 
The  strongd  cofre  hath  al  devoured 
Under  the  keie  of  avarice 
The  tresor  of  the  benefice, 
Wherof  the  pouer6  shulden  clothe 
And  eteand  drinkeand  housd  bothe. 
The  charitd  goth  all  unknowe, 
For  they  no  greine  of  pite  so\ve, 
And  slouthd  kepeth  the  librarie 
Which  longeth  to  the  seintuaric. 

1  Doth  us  sointiclc  for  to  ivite,  causes  us  in 
some  part  to  know. 

-  for  btyete,  for  what  they  can  get. 

»  Let,  hindered.  «  Bttaken,  entrusted. 

8  The  pouer,  the  poor. 


CONFESSfO  A  MANTIS. 


To  studie  upon  the  worldds  lore 
Sufficeth  now  withoute  more. 
Delicacie  his  swete  tothe 
Hath  soffred  so  that  it  fordothe 
Of  abstinence  al  that  ther  is. 
And  for  to  loken  over  this, 
If  Etna  brenne  -in  the  clergie, 
Al  openly  to  mannds  eye " 
At  Avignon  thexperience 
Therof  hath  yove  an  eviddnce 
Of  that  men  seen  hem  so  devided. 
And  yet  the  cause  is  nought  decided, 
But  it  is  saide  and  ever  shall : 
Bitwen  two  stooles  is  the  fall, 
W7han  that  men  wenen  best  to  sitte. 
In  holy  chirche  of  suche  a  slitte 
Is  for  to  rewe  unto  us  alle. 
God  graunte  it  motd  wel  befalle 
Towardes  him  which  hath  thetrouth. 
But  ofte  is  seen,  that  mochel  slouth, 
Whan  men   ben   drunken    of  the 

cuppe, 
Doth  mochel  harme  whan  fire  is 

uppe, 
But     if1     somwho     the     flammd 

staunche  ; 

And  so  to  speke  upon  this  braunche 
Which  proud  envie  hath  made  to 

springe 

Of  scisme,  causeth  for  to  bringe 
This  newd  secte  of  Lollardie, 
And  also  many  an  heresie, 
Among  the  clerkes  in  hem  selve. 
It  were  better  dike  and  delve 
And  stonde  upon  the  righte  feith 
Than  knovve  al  that  the  Bible  saith 
And  erre  as  some  clerkds  do. 
'  Upon  the  hond  to  were  a  shoe 
And  set  upon  the  foot  a  glove, 
I  Accordeth  nought  to  the  behove 
Of  resonable  mannds  use. 
If  men  behelden  the  vertuse, 
That  Criste  in  erthe  taught  us  here, 
They  shulden  nought  in  such  manere 

1  But  if,  unless. 


Among  hem  that  ben  holden  wise 
The  papacie  so  desguise 
Upon  clivers  election, 
Whiche  stant  after  thaffection 
Of  sondry  londes  al  aboute. 
But  whan  God'wol  it  shal  were  oute, 
For  trouth  mot  stonden  attd  laste. 
But  yet  they  argumenten  faste 
Upon  the  Pope  and  his  estate, 
Wherof  they  fallen  in  great  debate. 
This  clerk  saith  yea,  that  other  nay, 
And  thus  they  drive  forth  the  day  ; 
And  eche  of  hem  him  self  amendeth 
Of  worldds  good :  but  none  entendeth 
To  that  which  comun  profite  were. 
They  sain,  that  God  is  mighty  there, 
And  shal  ordeine  what  he  wille  ; 
There  make  they  none  other  skille, 
Where  is  the  perill  of  the  feith : 
But  every  clerke  his  herte  leith 
To  kepe  his  worlde  in  speciall ; 
And  of  the  cause  generall 
Whiche  unto  holy  chirche  longeth, 
Is  none  of  hem  that  underfongeth  l 
To  shapen  any  resistdnce. 
And  thus  the  right  hath  no  defence, 
But  there  I  love,  there  I  holde. 
Lo,  thus  to-broke  is  Cristds  folde, 
Wherof  the  flock  withoute  guide 
Devourdd  is  on  every  side, 
In  lacke  of  hem  that  ben  unware 
Shepherdds,  which  here  wit  beware2 
Upon  the  worlde  in  other  halve. 
The  sharpd  pricke  in  stede  of  salve 
They  usen  now,  wherof  the  hele  3 
They  hurte   of  that  they  shulden 

hele.4 

And  what  sheep  that  is  full  of  wulle 
Upon  his  backe  they  toose  and  pulle 
While  ther  is  any  thinge  to  pille. 
And  though  there  be  none  other 

skille, 

1   Underfongeth,  undertakes. 
-  Beware,  spend. 
:!  Hele,  heel. 
4  Hole,  heal. 


PROLOGUE. 


But  oncly  lor  ilicy  wolde  winne, 
'I  hrylrvc  nought  whan  thcybcginnc 
Upon  here  actd  to  proccdc, 
\Vhiche  is  nogood  shcphdrdds  clede. 
And  upon  this  also  men  sain 
That  fro  the  Iccsc  whiche  is  plcinc, 
Into  the  hrcrds  they  forcacchc 
Here  orf,for  that  they  wolden  lacchc 
With  such  duresse  and  so  bereve 
That  sh.il  upon  the  thornes  leve 
Of  wtille  whiche  the  brere  hath  tore,1 
Wherof  the  sheep  ben  al  to-tore, 
Of  that  the  herdds  make  hem  lese.2 
Lo,  how  they  feignen  chalk  for  chese! 
Forthough  they  speke  and  techd  wel, 
They  don  hem  self  therof  no  dele. 
For  if  the  wolf  come  in  the  wey, 
Their  gostly  staf  is  then  axvey, 
Wherof    they    shulde    her    flock 

defende. 

But  if  the  pouer  sheep  offendc 
In  any  thing,  though  it  be  lite,1"' 
They  ben  al  redy  for  to  smite  ; 
And  thus,  howe  ever  that  they  tale, 
The  stroke's  falle  upon  the  smale, 
And  upon  other  that  bene  greate 
Hem  lacketh  hertd  for  to  beate, 
So  that  under  the  clerkds  lawe 
Men  seen  the  merel  al  misdrawe.4 
I  wol  nought  say  in  generall, 
For  there  ben  somme  in  special!, 
In  whome  that  al  vertue  dwelleth, 
And  tho  ben,  as  thapostel  telleth, 
That  God  of  his  election 
Hath  cleped  to  perfection 
In  the  mandr  as  Aaron  was. 
They  be  nothmge  in  thilkd  cas 
Of  Simon,  which  the  foldes  gate 
Hath  lete  and  goth  in  othergate, 


1  That  fro  the  leese,  &c.  That  from  "the 
meadow  which  is  open  plain  they  hunt  their 
flock  into  the  hriars,  because  they  would  sei/c 
profit  by  such  hard  treatment  and  so  rob  them 
of  wool  that  the  briar  has  torn.  < 

"  Lcse,  lose.  •"  Lite,  little. 

*  Tht  incrtl  al  niisdr&wc,  the  world  all 
drawn  awry. 


But  they  gone  in  the  rightd  wcie. 
There  bene  also  somme  as  men 

sale, 

That  folwen  Simon  attd  heles 
Whose  cartd  goeth  upon  wheles 
Of  covetise  and  worldds  pride, 
And  holy  chirche  goth  beside, 
Whiche  shcweth  outwarde  a  visdge 
Of  that  is  nought  in  the  cordge. 
For  if  men  loke  in  holy  chirche 
Betwene  the  worde  and  that  they 

wirche, 

There  is  a  ful  great  difference. 
They  prechen  us  in  audience, 
That   noman   shall  his  soule  em- 

peire,1 

For  al  is  but  a  chcry  fcire2 
This  worldds  good,  so  as  they  telle. 
Also  they  sain  there  is  an  helle, 
Whiche  unto  mannds  sinne  is  due, 
And  bidden  us  therfore  escheue 
That  wicked  is,  and  do  the  good. 
Who  that  her  wordds  understood 
It   thinketh   they   wolden   do   the 

same  ; 

But  yet  betwene  emdst  and  game 
Ful  oft  it  torneth  other  wise. 
With  holy  talds  they  devise, 
How  meritdry  is  thilkd  dede 
Of  charitd  to  clothe  and  fede 
The  pouer  folke,  and  for  to  parte 
The  worldds  good,  but  they  departe 
Ne  thenken  nought 3  fro  that  they 

have. 

Also  they  sain,  good  is  to  save 
With  penaunce  and  with  abstinence 
Of  chastitd  the  continence. 
But  pleinly  for  to  speke  of  that, 
I  not 4  how  thilke  body  fat, 
Which  they  with  deintd  mete's  kepe, 
And  lein  it  softe  for  to  slepe, 

1  Enifeire,  damage. 

2  Chcry  fcire,  charivari. 

::  They  departe  tie  thenken  »orf£/it,  they  do 
not  think  of  distributing. 
4  ~\'i?t,  ne  wot,  know  not. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Whan  it  hath  elles  of  his  wille, 
With  chastit«5  shall  stonde'  stille. 
And  nethe'les  I  can  nought  say 
In  aunter1  if  that  I  missay 
Touchendof  this,  how  ever  it  stonde, 
I  here  and  wol  nought  understonde, 
For  therof  have  I  nought  to  done. 
But  he  that  made  first  the  mone, 
The  highd  God  of  his  goodnesse, 
If  ther  be  cause,  he  it  redresse. 
But  what  as  any  man  can  accuse, 
This  may  resdn  of  trouthe  excuse. 

The  vice  of  hem  that  ben  ungood 
Is  no  reproef  unto  the  good. 
For  every  man  his  ownd  werkes 
Shall  beare,  and  thus  as  of  the  clerkes 
The  goodd  men  ben  to  commende, 
And  all  these  other  God  amende  ! 
For  they  ben  to  the  worldes  eye 
The  mirrour  of  ensamplarie 
To  reulen  and  to  taken  hede 
Betwene  the  men  and  the  Godhede. 

^Ton)  for  to  speke  of  the  coinune 
j  It  is  to  drede  of  that  fortune 
JWhiche    hath    befalle    in    sondry 

londes. 

LjBut  often  for  defaute  of  bondes 
Al  sodeinlich  er  it  be  wist 
A  tonne,  whan  his  lie  arist,2 
To-breketh,  and  renneth  al  aboute 
Whiche  ellds  sholdd  nought  gone 

oute. 

And  eke  ful  ofte  a  litel  scar 
Upon  a  banke,  er  men  be  ware, 
Let  in  the  streme  which  with  gret 

paine, 

If  ever,  man  it  shal  restraine. 
\  Where  lawd  lacketh  errour  groweth, 
I  He   is  nought   wise   who  that  ne 

troweth, 

I  For  it  hath  provdd  oft  er  this. 
And  thus  the  comun  clamour  is 

1  In  aunter,  peradventure. 
-  //  '/tan  his  lie  arist,  when  its  lees  rise,  when 
its  contents  are  fermenting. 


In  every  lond  where  people  dwelleth 
And  eche  in  his  compleinte  telleth, 
How  that  the  worlde  is  al  mis  went. 
And  therupon  his  argument 
Yeveth  every  man  in  sondry  wise. 
But  what  man  wolde  him  self  avise 
His  conscience  and  nought  misuse, 
He  may  well  at  the  first  excuse 
His  God,  whiche  ever  stant  in  one, 
In  Him  there  is  defaute  none. 
So  must  it  stonde  upon  us  selve, 
Nought  only  upon  ten  ne  twelve, 
But  plenerlich 1  upon  us  alle, 
For  man  is  cause  of  that  shal  falle. 
Jlnb  netheles  yet  som  men  write 
And  sayn  Fortune  is  to  wite  ; 2 
And  som  men  holde  opinion 
That  it  is  constellacion, 
Which  causeth  al  that  a  man  dothe  ; 
God  wot  of  bothd  whiche  is  sothe. 
The  worlde  as  of  his  propre  kinde 
Was  ever  untrew,  and  as  the  blinde 
Improperlich  he  demeth  fame, 
He  blameth  that  is  nought  to  blame 
Andpreiseth  that  is  nought  to  preise. 
Thus   whan  he   shall  the  thinge's 

peise,3 

Ther  is  deceipte  in  his  balaunce 
And  al  is  that  the  variaunce 
Of  us,  that  shulde  us  better  avise. 
For  after  that  we  fall  and  rise 
The  worlde  ariste  and  falleth  with  al, 
So  that  the  man  is  over  al  J 

His  owne  cause  of  wele  and  wo./ 
That  we  Fortune  clepe  so 
Out  of  the  man  him  selfe  it  groweth. 
And  who  that  other  \vis6  troweth 
Beholde  the  people  of  Israel. 
For  ever  while  they  deden  wel 
Fortune  was  hem  debonaire  ; 
And  whan  they  deden  the  contraire 
Fortune'  was  contrariende. 
So  that  it  proveth  wel  at  ende, 

1  Plenerlich,  fully.        2  To  wite,  to  blame. 
3  Peise,  weigh. 


PROLOGUE. 


Why  that  the  worlcle  is  wonderful 
And  may  no  while  stonde  fill, 
Though  that  it  semd  wel  bcscin  ; 
For  every  worldds  thinge  is  vain 
And  ever  goth  the  whelc  aboute 
And  ever  stant  a  man  in  doute, 
Fortune?  stant  no  while*  stille. 
So  hath  thcr  no  man  al  his  wille, 
Als  far  as  ever  a  man  may  knowe 
There  lastethno  thing  but  athrowe.1 
The  world  stant  ever  upon  debate, 
So  may  be  siker  none  estate, 
Now  here  now  there,  now  to  now 

fro, 
Now  up  now  down,  the  world  goth 

so 

And  ever  hath  done  and  ever  shal. 
Wherof  I  finde  in  special 
A  tale*  writen  in  the  Bible, 
Which  must  nedds  be  credible, 
And  that  as  in  conclusion 
Saith,  that  upon  division 
Stant  why  no  worldds  thing  may 

laste 

Til  it  be  drive*  to  the  laste, 
And  fro  the  firstd  regne  of  all 
Unto  this  day  how  so  befall 
Of  that  the  regnds  be  mevdble, 
The  man  him  self  hath  be  coup- 
able, 

Whiche  of  his  propre  governaunce 
Fortuneth  al  the  worldds  chaunce. 
The  high  almighty  purveiaunce, 
In  whose  eternd  rdmembraunce 
From  first  was  every  thing  presdnt, 
He  hath  his  prophecie  sent 
In  suche  a  wise,  as  thou  shalt  here, 
To  Daniel  of  this  matere, 
How  that  this  world  shal  torne  and 

wende 

Till  it  be  falle  unto  his  ende  ; — 
Wherof  the  tale*  tell  I  shal 
In  which  it  is  betokendd  al. 

1  lint  a  throve,  but  for  a  space  of  time. 


As  Nabugodonosor  sleptc 
A  sweven  l  him  toke,  the  whiche  he 

kepte 

Til  on  the  morwe  he  was  arise, 
For  he  therof  was  sore  agrise. 
Til  2  Danidl  his  dreme  he  tolde 
And  praid  him  faird,  that  he  wolde 
Aredd  what  it  token  may, 
And  saide  :  a  beddd  where  I  lay 
Me  thought  I  sigh3  upon  a  stage, 
Where   stood  a  wonder  straungc 
^    ymage. 

His  hed  with  al  the  necke  also 
They  were  of  fine  gold,  bothd  two 
His  brest,his  shuldersand  his  armes 
Were  al  of  silver,  but  the  armes, 
The  wombe  and  al  down  to  the  kne 
Of  bras  they  were  upon  to  se, 
His  leggds  were  al  made  of  steel, 
So  were  his  feet  also  somdele, 
And  somdele  part  to  hem  was  take 
Of  erthd,  which  men  pottds  make. 
The  feble   meind  4   was  with   the 

strong, 

So  might  it  nought  wel  stonde  long. 
And  tho  me  thoughtd,  that  I  sigh 
A  great  stone  from  an  hill  on  high 
Fell  down  of  sodein  aventure 
Upon  the  feet  of  this  figure, 
With  which  stone  al  to-broke  was 
Gold,  silver,  erthd,  steel  and  bras, 
That  al  was  into  pouder  brought 
And  so  forth  torned  into  nought. 

This  was  the  sweven  which  he  had, 
That  Daniel  anone  arad 
And  saidd  him  :  that  figure  straunge 
Betokeneth    how   the    world    shal 

chaunge 

And  waxd  lassd  worth  and  lasse, 
Til  it  to  nought  all  over  passe. 
The  necke  and  hed,   that   weren 

golde, 
He  saide  how  that  betoken  sholde 


-  Til,  to. 

*  Meind,  mixed. 


,  dream. 
:;  Sig/i,  saw. 


CONFESS fO  A  MANTIS. 


A  worthy  worlde,  a  noble,  a  riche 
To  which  none  after  shal  be  liche. 

Of  silver  that  was  over  forthe 
Shal  ben  a  worlde  of  lasse  worthe. 

And  after  that  the  wombe  of  bras 
Token  of  a  wers  worlde  it  was. 
The  steel  which  he  sigh  afterward 
A  world  betokeneth  more  hard. 

And  yet  the  werste  of  every  dele 
Is  last,  than  whan  of  erth  and  steel 
He  sigh  the  feet  departed1  so, 
For  that  betokeneth  mochel  wo. ' 

Whan  that  the  world  devided  is, 
It  mot  algate"  fare  amis, 
For  erth  which  meined  is  with  steel 
To-gider  may  nought  laste  wele, 
But  if  that  one  that  other  waste, 
So  mot  it  nede's  fail  in  haste. 
The  stone,  whiche  fro  the  hilly  stage 
He  sigh  down  falle  on  that  ymage 
And  hath  it  into  pouder  broke, 
That  sweven  hath  Daniel  unloke 
And  said,  that  it  is  Goddes  might, 
Which,  whan  men  wene  most  up 
right 

To  stonde,  shal  hem  over  caste. 
And  that  is  of  this  world  the  laste, 
And  than  a  newe"  shal  beginne, 
From  whiche   a  man   shal   never 

twinne 

Or  al  to  paine  or  al  to  pees, 
That  world  shal  laste  ende"les. 

Lo,  thus  expotmdeth  Daniel 
The  kingcs  sweven  faire  and  wel 
In  Babiloine  the  citee, 
Wrier  that  the  wisest  of  Caldee 
Ne  couthen  wite'  2  what  it  mente, 
But  he  tolde  al  the  hole  entente, 
As  in  partie  it  is  befalle. 
Of  golde  the  first  regne  of  alle 
Was  in  that  kingcs  time  tho, 
And  laste  many  dale's  so. 
There  whilds  that  the  monarchic 
Of  al  the  worlde  in  that  partie 

i  Departed,  divided.  '-'  Witc,  know. 


To  Babiloine  was  subgite 
And  helde  him  still  in  suche  a  plight, 
Til  that  the  world  began  diverse. 
And  that  was,  whan  the  kinge  of 

Perse, 

Which  Cyrus  hight,  ayein  the  pees 
Forth  with  his  sond  Cambisms 
Of  Babiloine  all  that  empire, 
Right  as  they  wolde  hem  self  desire, 
Put  under  in  subjection 
And  toke  it  in  possession, 
And  slain  was  Baltazar  the  king, 
Which  lost  his  regne  and  all  his 

thing. 
And   thus   whan   they  it  hadde* 

wonne, 

The  worlde  of  silver  was  begonne 
And  that  of  gold  was  passed  oute  ; 
And  in  this  wise  it  goth  aboute 
Into  the  regne  of  Darius, 
And  than  it  fell  to  JPerse  thus. 
There  Alisaundre  put  hem  under, 
Which  wroght  of  armes  many  a 

wonder, 

So  that  the  monarchic  lefte 
With  Grecs  and  here  estate  up  lefte. 
And  Persiens  gone  under  fote, 
So  suffre  they  that  nede's  mote. 

And  tho  the  world  began  of  bras, 
And  that  of  silver  ended  was, 
But  for  the  time"  thus  it  laste, 
Til  it  befelle,  that  at  laste 
This  king,  whan  that  his  day  AVRS 

come, 

With  strength  of  deth  wasovercome. 
And  netheles  yet  or  he  dide1 
He  shope  his  regne  to  devide 
To    knightds,    which    him    hadde 

served, 

And  after  that  they  have  deserved 
Yaf  the  conquestes  that  he  wanne, 
Wherof  great  werre  tho  beganne 
Among  hem  that  the  regnes  had, 
Through  proud  en  vie  which  hem  lad, 

1  Or  he  didc,  ere  he  died. 


PROLOGUE. 


Til  it  bcfellc  aycin  hem  thus. 
The  noble  Cesar  Julius, 
Which  thowaskingeofRomd-londe, 
\Yith  great  bataile  and  with  strong 

honde 

All  Greed,  Perse  and  eke  Caklee 
\Van  and  put  under,  so  that  he 
Nought  al  only  of  th'orient 
Hut  al  the  marche  of  th'occident 
Governeth  under  his  empire 
As  he  that  was  hole  lord  and  sire 
And  heldd  through  his  chivalrie 
Of  al  this  worlde  the  monarchic 
And  was  the  first  of  that  honour 
Which  taketh  name  of  Emperour. 
Where     Rome     thannd     wolde 

assaile, 

There  mightd  no  thing  contrevaile, 
But  every  contrd  must  obeie  : 
Tho  goth  the  regne  of  bras  aweie 
And  comen  is  the  worlde  of  steel, 
And  stode  above  upon  the  whele. 
As  steel  is  hardest  in  his  kinde 
Above  al  other  that  men  finde 
Of  metals,  such  was  Rome*  tho 
The  mightiest  and  lastd  so 
Long  time  amonge's  the  Remains, 
Til  they  become  so  vilains, 
That  the  fals  emperoiir  Leo 
With  Constantin  his  sone  also 
The  patrimonie  and  the  richesse, 
Which  to  Silvester  in  pure  almesse 
The  firste  Constantinus  lefte, 
Fro  holy  chirche  they  berefte. 
But  Adrian,  which  Pope  was 
And  sawe  the  mischef  of  this  cas, 
Goth  into  Fraunce  for  to  pleine 
And  praieth  the  great  Charlemaine 
For  Cristes  sake  and  soule  hele, 
That  he  wol  take  the  quarele 
Of  holy  chirche  in  his  defence, 
And  Charles,  for  the  reverence 
Of  God,  the  cause  hath  undertake 
And  with  his  host  the  waie  hath 

take 


Over  the  mountes  of  Lumbardie. 
Of  Rome  and  al  the  tirannie 
With  blody  swcrd  he  overcome 
And  the  citee  with  strengthe  nome ' 
In    suche    a  wise    and    there   lie 

wroughte, 

That  holy  chirche  ayein  he  broughtc 
Into  fraunchise,  and  doth  restore 
The  Popes  luste  and  yaf  him  more. 
And  thus  whan  he  his  God  hath 

served, 

He  toke,  as  he  hath  well  deserved, 
The  diademe  and  was  coroned 
Of  Rome,  and  thus  was  aband6necl 
Thempire,     whiche     came     never 

ayeine 

Into  the  hande  of  no  Romaine. 
But  a  long  time  it  stode  so  stille 
Under  the  Frensshe  kinges  wille, 
Til  that  Fortune  her  whele  so  lad, 
That  aftenvard  Lumbdrdes  it  had, 
Nought    by    the    swerd,    but    by 

suffraunce 
Of   him    that    tho    was     king    of 

Fraunce, 

Whiche  Carle  Calvus  cleped  was  ; 
And  he  resigneth  in  this  cas 
Thempire  of  Rome  unto  Lowis 
His  cousin,  which  a  Lumbarde  is, 
And  so  it  laste  into  the  yere 
Of  Alberte  and  of  Berenger. 
^3ut  than  upon  dissension 
They  felle  and  in  division 
Among  hem  self  that  were  grete, 
So  that  they  loste  the  beyete 2 
Of  worship  and  of  worldes  pees. 
But  in  proverbe  netheles 
Men   sain :    ful    seldome    is,   that 

welthe 

Can  suflfre  his  owne  estate  in  helthe, 
And  that  was  in    the  Lumbardes 

sene, 
Suche  comun  strife  was  hem  l>e- 

twene 

1  Nome,  took.  -  Bryetc,  possession. 


44 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Through     covetise     and     through 

en  vie, 

That  every  man  drough  his  partie, 
Which  mighte  leden  any  route 
Withinne  bourgh  and  eke  withoute. 
The  comun  right  hath  no  felawe, 
So  that  the  governaunce  of  lawe 
Was  lost ;  and  for  necessite 
Of  that  they  stode  in  suche  degre 
Al  only  through  division 
Hem  nedeth  in  conclusion 
Of  straunge  londes  helpe  beside, 
And  thus  for  they  hem  self  divide 
And  stonden  out  of  reule  uneven, 
Of  Alemaine  princes  seven 
They  chose,  in  this  condition, 
That  upon  here  election 
Thempire  of  Rome  sholde  stonde. 
And  thus  they  left  it  out  of  honde 
For  lacke  of  grace,  and  it  forsoke 
That  Alemains  upon  hem  toke. 
And  to  confermen  here  estate 
Of  that  they  stoden  in  debate, 
They  token  the  possession 
After  the  composition 
Among  hem  self,  and  ther  upon 
They  made  an  Emperour  anon, 
Whos  name  as  the  cronique  telleth 
Was  Othes,  and  so  forth  it  dwelleth, 
Fro  thilke  daie  yet  unto  this, 
Thempire  of  Rome  hath  ben  and  is 
To  thalemains  :  and  in  this  wise 
As  ye  to-fore  have  herd  devise 1 
How    Daniel    the    sweven 2    ex- 

poundeth 
Of    that    ymdge,     on    whom    he 

foundeth 

The  world  which  after  sholde  falle,— 
Comen  is  the  last  token  of  alle. 
Upon  the  feet  of  erthe  and  steel 
So  stant  the  world  now  every  dele 
Departed,3  which  began  right  tho 
Whan  Rome  was  devided  so. 

1  Devise,  relate.  -  Sweden,  dream. 

3  Every  dele  departed,  every  part  divided. 


And  that  is  for  to  rewe  sore, 
For  alwey  sithe 1  more  and  more 
The  worlde  empeireth  2  every  day, 
Wherof  the  sothe  shewe  may. 
At  Rome  first  if  we  beginne, 
The  walle  and  al  the  citee  withinne 
Stant  in  ruine  and  in  deeds, 
The  felcl  is  where  the  palais  was, 
The  town  is  wast,  and  over  that 
If  we  beholden  thilke  estate 
Whiche  whilome  was  of  the  Ro- 

mains, 

Of  knighthod  and  of  citizeins, 
To  peise  3  now  with  that  beforne, 
The  chaf  is  take  for  the  corne. 
And  for  to  speke  of  Romes  might 
Unnethes  4  stant  ther  ought  upright 
Of  worship  or  of  worldes  good, 
As  it  before  time  stood. 
And  why  the  worship  is  away 
If  that  a  man  the  sothe  shall  say, 
The  cause  hath  ben  devision, 
Which  moder  of  confusion 
Is,  where  she  cometh  overall 
Nought  only  of  the  temporall 
But  of  the  spiritual  also. 
The  dede  proveth  it  is  so, 
And  hath  do  many  daies  er  this, 
Through  venim  which  that  medled5 

is 

In  holy  chirche  of  erthely  thing. 
For  Crist  him  self  maketh  know- 

leching, 

That  no  man  may  togeder  serve 
God  and  the  World  but  if6  he  swerve 
Fro  ward  that  one,  and  stonde  un 
stable  : 
And  Cristes  word  may  nought  be 

fable. 

The  thing  so  open  is  at  theye, 
It  nedeth  nought  to  specific 

1  Sithe,  since. 

-  Kmfleireth,  grows  worse. 

3  Peise,  weigh.  *  Unnethes,  hardly. 

•r>  Medled,  mixed. 

6  But  if,  unless. 


PROLOGUE. 


45 


Or  speke  ought  more  in  this  matere. 
But  in  this  wise  a  man  may  lere l 
How  that  the  worlde  is  gone  aboute, 
The  whiche  wel  nigh  is  wered  out 
After  the  forme  of  that  figure, 
Which  Daniel  in  his  scripture 
Expoundeth  as  to-fore  is  tolde  : 
Of  bras,  of  silver  and  of  golde 
The  worlde  is  passed  and  agone, 
And  nowe  upon  his  olde  tone2 
It  stant,  of  brutel3  erthe  and  steel 
The    whiche    accorden    never    a 

dele,4 

So  mot  it  nedes  swerve  aside 
As  thing  the  which  men  seen  divide. 

3f)apooicl  writ  unto  us  alle 
And  saith,  that  upon  us  is  falle 
Thend  of  the  world,  so  may  we 

knowe 

This  ymage  is  nigh  overthrowe 
By  which  this  world  was  signified, 
That  whilom  was  so  magnified 
And  nowe  is  olde  and  feble  and 

vile, 

Full  of  mischefe  and  of  perilc, 
And  stant  divided  eke  also 
Lyke  to  the  feet,  that  were  so 
As  I  tolde  of  the  statue  above. 
"""  And  thus  men  seen,  through  lacke 

of  Love 

|   Where  as  the  lond  divided  is, 
<\It  mot  algate  fare  amis. 

And  now,  to  loke  on  every  side, 
A  man  may  se  the  world  divide  : 
The  werres  ben  so  generall 
Amonge  the  Cristen  overall, 
That     every     man     now     secheth 

wreche,5 

And  yet  these  clerkes  alday  preche 
And  sain,  good  dede  may  none  be 
Whiche  stant  nought  upon  charite. 


1  Lcrc,  learn. 

-  Tone,  toes.  3  Brutel,  brittle. 

*  Xrt'tr  a  dele,  never  a  bit. 

6  Wrcckct  wreaking  of  vengeance. 


I  not l  how  charite  sholde  stondc 
Where  dedly  werre    is  taken   on 

honde, 

But  al  this  wo  is  cause  of  man 
The  which  that  wit  and  reson  can  ; 
And  that  in  token  and  in  witnesse, 
That  ilke  ymdge  bare  liknesse 
Of  man,  and  of  none  other  beste. 
For  first  unto  the  manne's  heste 
Was  every  creature  ordeigned, 
But  afterward  it  was  restreigned  ; 
Whan  that  he  fel  they  fellen  eke, 
Whan  he  wex  seke  they  wexen  seke ; 
For  as  the  man  hath  passion 
Of  sikenesse,  in  comparison 
So  suffren  other  creatures. 
Lo,  first  the  hevenly  figures. 
^I)C  sonne  and   mone  eclipsen 

both 

And  ben  with  mannes  sinne  wroth  ; 
The  purest  air,  for  sinne,  alofte 
Hath  ben  and  is  corrupt  ful  ofte  ; 
Right  now  the  highe  windes  blowe 
And  anon  after  they  ben  lowe, 
Now  cloudy  and  now  clere  it  is  ; 
So  it  may  proven  wel  by  this, 
A  mannes  sinne  is  for  to  hate2 
Which  maketh  the  welken  to  de 
bate. 

And  for  to  se  the  properte 
Of  every  thinge  in  his  degre, 
Benethe  forth  amonge  us  here 
Al  stant  a  like  in  this  matere. 
The  see  nowe  ebbeth  and  nowe  it 

floweth, 
The  lond  now  wclketh  and  now  it 

groweth  ; 

Now  be  the  trees  with  leves  grene, 
Now  they  be  bare  and  no  thing 

sene  ; 

Now  be  there  lusty  somer  floures, 
Now    be     there     stormy    winter 

shoures  ; 

1  AW,  know  not. 

3  For  to  hate,  to  be  hated. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Now  be  the  daie's,  now  the  nightes, 
So  stant  there  no  thing  al  uprightes  : 
Nowe  it  is  light,  nowe  it  is  derke. 
And  thus  stant  al  the  worlde's  werke 
After  the  disposicion 
Of  man,  and  his  condicion. 
Forthy1  Gregoire  in  his  morall 
Saith,  that  a  man  in  specia"!! 
The  lasse  worlde 2  is  properly  ; 
And  that  he  proveth  redily. 
For  man  of  soule  resondble 
Is  to  an  angel  resembMble  ; 
And  lyke  to  beste,  he  hath  feling  ; 
And  lyke  to  tres,  he  hath  growing. 
The  stones  ben,  and  so  is  he, 
Thus  of  his  propre  qualite 
The  man,  as  telleth  the  clergie, 
Is  as  a  worlde  in  his  partie  ; 
And   whan    this    litel    world    mis- 

torneth 

The  grete  worlde  al  overtorneth. 
The  lond,  the  see,  the  firmament 
They  axen  alle  juge'ment 
Ayein   the   man,    and    make    him 

warre, 
Ther  while  him  selfe  stant  out  of 

harre 3 

The  remcnaunt  wol  nought  accorde  : 
And  in  this  wise  as  I  recorde 
The  man  is  cause  of  alle  wo, 
Why  this  worlde  is  divided  so. 
Division  the  gospel  saith 
One  house  upon  an  other  laith, 
Til  that  the  regne  al  overthrowe. 
And  thus  may  every  man  wel  knowe 
Division  aboven  alle 
Is  thing  which  maketh  the  world  to 

falle 

And  ever  hath  do,  sith  it  began  ; 
It  may  firste  prove  upon  a  man. 
The  which  for  his  complexion 
Is  made  upon  division 

1  Forthy,  for  that. 

2  The  lassc  -Morldc,  die  microcosm. 

3  Out  of  harrc,  unhinged,  out  of  order. 


Of  cold  of  hot  of  moist  of  dric, 
He  mot  by  verry  kinde l  die. 
For  the  contraire  of  his  estate 
Stant  evermore  in  such  debate, 
Til  that  a  part  be  overcome 
There  may  no  final  pees  be  nomc.a 
But  otherwise  if  a  man  were 
Made  al  togeder  of  one  matere 
Withouten  interruption, 
There  shulde  no  corruption 
Engendre  upon  that  unite  ; 
But  for  there  is  diversite 
Within  him  selfe,  he  may  nought 

laste 

That  he  ne  deieth  at  the  laste. 
But. in  a  man  yet  over  this 
Full  great  division  there  is, 
Through  which  that  he  is  ever  in 

strife 

While  that  him  lasteth  any  life. 
The  body  and  the  soule  also 
Among  hem  ben  divided  so, 
That  what  thing  that  the  bodyhateth 
The  soule  loveth  and  debateth. 
But  netheles  ful  ofte  is  sene 
Of  werre  whiche  is  hem  betwene, 
The  feble  hath  wonne  the  victoirc  : 
And  whoso  draweth  into  memoire 
What  hath  befalle  of  olde  and  newc 
He  may  that  werre  sore  re  we  ; 
Which  first  began  in  paradis  : 
For  there  was  proved  what  it  is 
And  what  disese  there  it  wrought, 
For  thilke  werre  tho  3  forth  brought 
The  vice  of  alle  dedly  sinne 
Through  which  division  came  innc 
Among  the  men  in  erthe  here, 
And  was  the  cause  and  the  matere, 
Why  God  the  grete  flode's  scndc 
Of  all  the  world  and 4  made  an  cndc 


1  Kinde,  nature. 
-  Nome,  taken. 

3  Tho,  then. 

4  And.     The  pjace  of  "and  "  in  a  sentence 
might   Lc   varied,    as   we    vary   the   place   of 
"also." 


PROLOGUE. 


But  Noc  \vitli  his  fclaship, 
Which  only  wcren  sauf  by  ship. 
And  over  that  through  sinne  it 

come, 

That  Nembroth  such  emprise  nomc, 
Whan  he  the  ton  re  Babel  on  hight 
Let  make,  as  he  that  wolde  tight 
Ayein  the  highe  goddes  might, 
Wherof  devided  anon  right 
Was  the  language  in  suche  entent 
There  wiste  non  what  other  ment, 
So  that  they  mighten  nought  pro- 
cede. 

And  thus  it  stant  of  every  dede 
Where  sinne  taketh   the  case  on 

honde 

It  may  upright  nought  longe  stonde, 
For  sinne  of  her  condicion 
Is  mother  of  division, 
And  token  whan  the  world  shall 

faile. 

For  so  saith  Crist  withoute  faile, 
That  nigh  upon  the  worldes  ende 
Pees  and  accorde  away  shall  wende 
And  alle  charite  shall  cease 
Among  the  men,  and  hate  encrease. 
And  whan  these  tokens  ben  befall 
All  sodcinly  the  stone  shall  fall, 
As  Daniel  it  hath  bcknowc, 
Which   all   this   world   shal   over 
throw  c  : 

And  every  man  shall  than  arise 
To  joie  or  ellcs  to  juise,1 
Where  that  he  shall  for  ever  dwell, 
Or  straight  to  hcven  or  straight  to 

hell. 

In  heven  is  pees  and  al  accorde, 
But  hellc  is  full  of  such  discorde 
That  there  may  be  no  Love  day.2 
Forthy3    good    is,    while    a    man 
may, 

1  Juise,  judgment. 

2  Love-day,  day  of  peacemaking  by   sub 
mitting  quarrels  to  the  judgment  of  a  Christian 
minister. 

^  1'orthy,  for  that. 


Echone  to  sette  pees  with  other 
And  loven  as  his  owne  brother, 
So  may  he  winne  worlde's  welthc 
And  afterwarde  his  soule  helthe. 

But  wolde  god  that  now  were  one 
An  other  suche  as  Arione, 
Whiche  had  an  harpe  of  such  tcin- 

prure, 

And  therto  of  so  good  mesure 
He  song,  that  he  the  bestes  wilde 
Made  of  his  note  tame  and  milde, 
The  hinde  in  pees  with  the  Icon, 
The  wolfe  in  pees  with  the  motion,1 
The  hare  in  pees  stood  with  the 

hounde, 

And  every  man  upon  this  groundc 
Whiche  Arion  that  time  herdc, 
As  well  the  lorde  as  the  shepherde, 
Hebrought  hem  all  in  good  accorde, 
So  that  the  comun  with  the  lorde 
And  lord  with  the  comun  also 
He  sette  in  Love  bothe  two 
And  put  awey  malencolie. 
That  was  a  lustie  melodic 
Whan  every  man  with  other  lough.  - 
And  if  ther  were  suche  one  now 
Whiche   coude  harpe  as  he  thoa 

ded 

He  might  availc  in  many  a  stede 
To  make  pees  where  nowc  is  hate. 
For  whan  men  tlienken  to  debate 
I  not4  what  other  thinge  is  good  ; 
But  wher  that  wisdom  waxeth  wood  ' 
And  reson  torneth  into  rage, 
So  that  mesure  °  upon  outrage 
Hath  set  this  worlde,  it  is  todredc; 
For  that  bringeth  in  the  comun  drede 
Whiche  stant  at  every  manne's  dorc. 
But  whan   the   sharpnesse  of  the 

spore 

The  horse  side  smit  to  sore 
It  greveth  ofte.     And  now  no  more 


1  Motion,  sheep. 
a  Tho,  then. 
5  Wood,  mad. 


-  Lough,  laughed. 
•*  .V<;/.  know  not. 


moeraton. 


48 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


As  for  to  speke  of  this  matere, 
Which  none  but  only  God  maystere. 
So  were  good  if  at  this  tyde 
That  every  man  vpon  his  syde 
Besought  and  prayed  for  the  peace 
Whiche   is    the  cause    of  all   in- 
cresse 


Of  worshippe  and  of  worldes  welthe, 
Of  hertes  reste  and  soules  helthe, 
Without  peace  stonde  no  thinggood, 
Forthy  to  Christ  which  shed  his 

blood 

For  peace  byseketh  alle  men. 
Amen,  Amen,  Amen,  Amen. 


CONFESSIO   AMANTIS. 


wag  nought  strecche  up  to  the 

heven 

Min  hond,  ne  setten  al  in  even 
This  world,  whiche  ever  is  in  bal- 

aunce  ; 

It  stant  nought  in  my  suffisaunce 
So  greate  thinges  to  compdsse. 
But  I  mote  lette  it  over  passe 
And  treaten  upon  other  thinges  : 
Forthy  the  stile  of  my  writfnges 
Fro  this  day  forth  I  thenke  chaunge, 
And  speake  of  thinge  is  nought  so 

strange, 
Whiche    every  kinde    hath    upon 

honde, 
And  wherupon    the  world    mote 

stonde 

And  hath  done  sithen  *  it  began 
And  shall  while  there  is  any  man, 
And  that  is  Love  ;  of  whiche  I  mene 
To  treate,  as  after  shall  be  sene, 
In  whiche  there  can  no  man  him 

reule 

For  Loves  lawe  is  out  of  reule 
That  of  to  moche  or  of  to  lite  2 
Wellnigh  is  every  man  to  wite.n 
And  netheles  there  is  no  man 
In  all  this  world  so  wise,  that  can 
Of  Lovd  temper  the  mesure 
But  as  it  falleth  in  aventure. 

1  Sit/ten,  since.  2  Lite,  little. 

3  To  wile,  to  blame. 


For  wit  ne  strength^  may  nought 

helpe 
And  he   which    elles    wolde    him 

yelpe l 

Is  rathest2  throwen  under  foote, 
Ther  can  no  wight  therof  do  bote." 
For  yet  was  never  such  covfne  4 
That  couth  ordeine  a  medicine 
To  thing  which   God   in   lawe   of 

kinde  5 
Hath  set,  for  there  may  no  man 

finde 

The  righte  salve  for  suche  a  sore. 
It  hath  and  shal  be  evermore 
That  Love  is  maister  where  he  will, 
There  can  no  life  make  other  skill,0 
For  where  as  ever  him  list  to  set 
There  is  no  might  which  him  may 

let. 

But  what  shall  fallen  atte'  laste, 
The  sothe  can  no  wisedom  caste, 
But  as  it  falleth  upon  chaunce, 
For  if  there  ever  was  balaunce 
Whiche  of  Fortune  stant  governed, 
I  may  well  leve  as  I  am  lerned 7 
That  Love  hath  that  baldunce  on 

honde 
Whiche  wol  no  reson  understonde. 


1  Yelpe,  boast.  -  Rathest,  soonest. 

a  Bote,  remedy.  •*  Covfae,  contrivance. 

6  Kinde,  Nature.        «  Skill,  distinction. 

7  Leve  as  I  am  lerned,  believe   as   1  nin 

taught. 

D 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


For  Love  is  blinde  and  may  nought 

se, 

Forthy  there  may  no  certeinte 
Be  sette  upon  his  jugement. 
But  as  the  whele  aboute  went 
He  yeveth  his  graces  undeserved, 
And  fro  that  man  which  hath  him 

served 

Ful  ofte  he  taketh  awey  his  fees  ; 
As  he  that  plaieth  at  the  dies l 
And  therupon  what  shal  befall 
He  not,2  til  that  the  chaunce  fall 
Where3  he  shall   lese  or  he  shal 

winne. 

And  thus  full  ofte  men  beginne 
That  if  they  wisten  what  it  ment 
They  wolde  chaunge  all  here  entent. 

Jlnb  for  to  prove  chat  it  is  so 
I  am  my  selfe  one  of  tho  4 
Whiche  to  this  scole  am  underfonge.5 
For  it  is  sithe  go  nought  longe  ° 
As  for  to  speake  of  this  matere 
I  may  you  telle,  if  ye  woll  here, 
A  wonder  hap  which  me  befelle, 
That  was  to  me  bothe  harde  and 

felle, 

Touchend  of  Love  and  his  fortune, 
The  which  me  liketh  to  commune 
And  pleinly  for  to  telle  it  oute 
To  hem  that  lovers  ben  aboute  ; 
Fro  point  to  pointe  I  wol  declare 
And  writen  of  my  woful  care, 
My  woful  day,  my  woful  chaunce, 
That  men  mow  take  remembraunce 
Of  that  they  shall  here  after  rede. 
For  in  good  feith  this  wolde  I  rede/ 
That  every  man  ensample  take 
Of  wisedom  which  is  him  betake,8 
And  that  he  wote  of  good  apprise  9 
To  teche  it  forth,  for  suche  emprise 

1  Dies,  dice.  -  tfott  knows  not. 

3  Where,  whether.  4  Tho,  them. 

5   Underfonge,  received. 
'•  Since  not  long  ago. 

"  Rede,  counsel.  8  Betake,  entrusted. 

9  And  that   which   he  knows  to  he  worth 
learning. 


Is  for  to  preise  :  and  therfore  I 
Wol  write  and  shewe  all  openly, 
How  love  and  I  togider  mette, 
Wherof  the  worlde  ensample  fette 
May  l  after  this,  whan  I  am  go, 
Of  thilke  unsely  jolif  wo, 
Whose  reule  stant  out  of  the  wey, 
Now  glad,  and  now  gladnesse  awey, 
And  yet  it   may  nought  be  with- 

stonde 
For  ought   that  men  may  under- 

stonde. 

^(pott  the  point  that  is  befalle 
Of  love,  in  which  that  I  am  falle, 
I  thenke  telle  my  matere. 
Now  herken,  who  that  woll  it  here, 
Of  my  fortune  how  that  it  ferde 
This  enderday,2  as  I  forth  ferde 
To  walke,  as  I  you  telle  may. 
And  that  was  in  the  moneth  of  May, 
Whan  every  brid  hath  chose  his 

make 
And  thenketh  his  merthes  for  to 

make 

Of  love,  that  he  hath  achieved. 
But  so  was  I  no  thing  releved, 
For  I  was  further  fro  my  love 
Than  erthe  is  fro  the  heven  above. 
And  for  to  speke  of  any  spede  3 
So  wiste  I  me  none  other  rede,4 
But  as  it  were  a  man  forfare  5 
Unto  the  wood  I  gan  to  fare, 
Nought  fortosingewith  the  briddes, 
For  whan  I  was  the  wood  amiddes 
I  fonde  a  swote  grend  pleine, 
And  there  I  gan  my  wo  compleine 
Wisshinge  and  wepinge  all  min  one l5 
For  other  mirthes  made  I  none. 
So  hard  me  was  that  ilke  thro  we,7 
That  ofte  sithes  8  overthrowe 

1  Ensample  fette  may,  may  fetch  example. 

-   This  enderday,  this  past  day,  lately. 

3  Spede,  success.  4  Rede,  counsel. 

3  Forfare,  undone. 

&  All  min  one,  all  by  myself. 

"   Throwe,  throe. 

8  Ofte  sithn,  many  times. 


BOOK  I. 


Togroundc  I  was,  withoute  brethe  ; 
And  rvcr  I  \visshed  after  dethc, 
Whan  I  out  of  my  peine  awoke, 
And  caste  up  many  a  pitous  loke 
Unto  the  hevcn  and  saicU'  thus  : 
'  O  thou  Cupfde,  O  thoti  Venus, 
Thou  god  of  love  and  thou  god- 

desse, 

Where  is  pite?  where  is  mekenesse? 
Xow  doth  me1  pleinly  live  or  die, 
For  Gene's  suche  a  maladie 
As  I  now  have,  and  longe  have  had, 
It  might^  make  a  wise  man  mad, 
If  that  it  shulde  longe  endure. 
"O  Venus,  quene  of  love's  cure, 
Thou  life,  thou  lust,  thou  mannes 

hele, 

Beholde  my  cause  and  my  quarele 
And  yef  me  some  part  of  thy  grace, 
So  that  I  may  finde  in  this  place, 
If  thou  be  gracious  or  none  ! ' 
And  with  that  worde  I  sawe  anone 
The  Kingeof  Love  and  Quene  bothe. 
But  he,  that  king,  with  eyen  wrothe 
His  chere  aweiward  fro  me  caste 
And  forthe  he  passed  atte  laste 
But  netheles  er  he  forth  wente 
A  firy  dart  me  thought  he  hente2 
And  threvve  it  through  min  hertc 

rote.3 

In  him  fonde  I  none  other  bote,4 
For lenger  list  him  nought  to  dwelle. 
But  she,  whiche  is  the  source  and 

\velle 

Of  welc  or  wo  that  shal  betide 
To  hem  that  loven,  at  that  tide 
Abode,  but  for  to  tellen  here 
She  cast  on  me  no  goodly  chere, 
Thus  netheles  to  me  she  saidc  : 
'What   art   thou,   sonne?'   And   I 

abraide  •' 


1  Doth  tue,  cause  me  to. 

'-'  J/fnie.  seized. 

-  „)//;/  herte  rot?,  the  root  of  my  heart. 

4  Botr,  remedy.  < 


Right  as  a  man  doth  out  of  slepe, 
And   therof  toke   she  right  good 

kepe1 

And  bad  me  nothing  be  adraddc, 
But  for  all  that  I  was  nought  gladdc, 
For  I  ne  sawe  no  caus£  why. 
And  eft 2  she  asketh,  what  was  I  ? 
I  saide  :  'A  caitif  that  lyth  here. 
What  wolde"  ye  my  lady  dere  ? 
Shall  I  beholeorellesdie?' 
She  saide  :  *  Tclle  thy  maladie. 
What   is  thy  sore  of  which  thou 

pleinest, 

Ne  hide  it  nought,  for  if  thou  feignest 
I  can  do  thee  no  medicfne.' 
'  Madame,  I  am  a  man  of  thine 
That  in  thy  Court  have  longe  served 
And  axe  that  I  have  deserved, 
Some  wele  after  my  longe  wo.' 
And  she  began  to  lourd  tho 
And  saide  :  *  There  be  many  of  you 
Faitours,3  and  so  may  be  that  thou 
Art  right  suche  one,  and  by  faintise 
Saist,  that  thou  hast  me  do  service.' 
And  netheles  she  wiste  wele 
My  word  stood  on  an  other  whele 
Withouten  any  faiterie. 
But  algate  of  my  maladie 
She  bad  me  tell  and  say  her  trouthe. 

'  Madame,  if  ye  wolde  have  routhe,' 
Quod  I,  'than  wolde  I  telle  you.' 

'  Say  forth,'  quod  she, '  and  telle  me 

how, 
Shewe  me  thy  sikenesse  every  dele.' 

'  Madame,  that  can  I  do  wele, 
Be  so  my  life  therto  wol  laste.' 

With  that  her  loke  on  me  she  caste 
And  saide  :  'In  aunter4  if  thou  live 
My  wille    is    first,    that    thou    be 
shrive  ; 

1  Kef*,  heed.  2  Eft,  again. 

:!  J''aitettrs,  dissemblers. 
4  In  atnttt-y,  if  it  happen. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  netheles  how  that  it  is 
I  wot  my  selfe,  but  for  all  this 
Unto  my  Prest  which  cometh  anone 
I  wol  thou  telle  it  one  and  one, 
Both  al  thy  thought  and  al  thy  werke. 

0  Genius,  min  owne  clerke, 
Come  forth,  and  here  this  mannes 

shrifte,' 

Quod  Venus  tho.     And  I  uplifte 
Min  hede  with  that,  and  gan  be- 

holde 
The    selfe    Prest,   whiche   as   she 

wolde 

Was  redy  there  and  fet  him  doune 
To  here  my  Confession. 

!H)io  worthy  prest,  this  holy  man 
To  me  spekend  thus  began 
And  saide  :  "  Benedicite 
My  sone,  of  the  felicite 
Of  Love  and  eke  of  all  the  wo 
Thou  shalt  be  shrive  of  bothe  two. 
What  thou  er 1  this  for  loves  sake 
Hast  felt,  let  nothing  be  forsake  ; 
Tel  pleinly  as  it  is  befalle." 

And  with  that  worde  I  gan  down 

falle 

On  knees,  and  with  devocion 
And  with  full  great  contricion 

1  saide  thanne  !  "  Dominus 
Min  holy  fader  Genius, 

So  as  thou  haste  experience 
Of  Love,  for  whose  reverence 
Thou  shalt  me  shriven  at  this  time, 
I  pray  thee  let  me  nought  mistime 
My  shrifte,  for  I  am  destourbed 
In  all  min  herte  and  so  contourbed, 
That  I  ne  may  my  wittes  gete  ; 
So  shal  I  moche  thing  foryete.2 
But  if  thou  wolt  my  shrifte  oppose  3 
Fro  point  to  pointe,  than  I  suppose 
There  shall  nothing  be  left  behinde. 
But  now  my  wittes  be  so  blinde, 

1  Er,  ere.  2  Foryete,  forget. 

a  Oppose,  test  by  argument. 


That  I  ne  can  my  selfe  teche." 
Tho l  he  beganne  anon  to  preche, 
And  with  his  wordes  debonaire 
He  saide  to  me  softe  and  faire  : 
"  My  sone,  I  am  assigned  here 
Thy  shrifte  to  oppose  and  here 
By  Venus  the  goddesse  above, 
Whose  prest  I  am  touchend  of  love. 

"  But  netheles  for  certain  skill 2 
I  mote  algate  3  and  nedes  will 
Nought  only  make  my  spekinges 
Of  Love,  but  of  other  thinges 
That  touchen  to  the  cause  of  Vice. 
For  that  belongeth  to  thoffice 
Of  Prest,  whose  ordre  that  I  bere  : 
So  that  I  wol  nothing  forbere 
That  I  the  Vices  one  and  one 
Ne  shall  thee  shewen  everichone, 
Wherof  thou  might  take  evidence 
To  reule  with  thy  conscience. 
But  of  conclusion  finaUl 
Conclude  I  wolde  in  specidll 
For  Love,  whose  servaunt  I  am 
And  why  the  cause  is  that  I  cam. 
So  thenke  I  to  do  bothe  two, — 
First  that 4  min  ordre  longeth  to 
The  Vices  for  to  telle  a  rewe  ; 5 
But  nexte,  above  all  other,  shewe 
Of  Love  I  wol  the  propretes, 
How  that  they  stonde  by  degres 
After  the  disposition 
Of  Venus,  whose  condition 
I  must  folwe  as  I  am  holde, 
For  I  with  Love  am  al  witholde,0 
So  that  the  lasse  I  am  to  wite,7 
Though  I  ne  conne  but  a  lite  8 
Of  other  thinges  that  bene  wise  ; 
I  am  nought  taught  in  suche  a  wise. 

1  T/io,  then ;  from  an  indeclinable  fhii. 
When  it  means  '  those,'  it  is  from  thii,  plural 
of  'that.' 

-  Skill,  discrimination. 

3  Mote  algate,  must  always. 

4  That  which  belongs  to  my  calling. 

5  A  reive,  in  row,  in  their  order. 
«  Witholde,  retained. 

7  To  tvite,  to  blame.       M  Know  but  a  little. 


BOOK  L 


53 


For  it  is  nought  my  comun  use 
To  speke  of  vices  and  vcrtuse, 
Hut  ;ill  of  Love  and  of  his  lore, 
For  Venus  bokes  of  no  more 
Me  techen,  nouther  text  ne  glose. 
But  for  als  moche  as  I  suppose 
It  sit  a  Prest  to  be  wel  the  wed l 
And  shame  it  is  if  he  be  lewed,3 
Of  my  presthode  "after  the  forme 
I  wol  thy  shrifte  so  enforme, 
That  at  the  laste  thou  shalt  here 
The  Vices,  and  to  thy  matere 
Of  Love  I  shal  hem  so  remeve 
That  thou  shalt  knowe*  what  they 

meve. 

For  what  a  man  shall  axe  or  saine 
Touchend    of   shrifte,   it   mot    be 

pleine  ;3 

It  nedeth nought  to  make  it  queinte,4 
For  Trouth  his  wordes  wol  nought 

peinte. 

That  I  wol  axe  of  thee  forthy, 
My  sone,  it  shal  be  so  pleinly 
That  thou  shalt  knowe  and  under- 

stonde 
The  pointes  of  Shrift  how  that  they 

stonde." 


[  The  Senses  :  Sight  and  Hearing^ 


the  life  and  death  I 
herde 

This  Prestes  tale  er  I  answe'rde  ; 
And  than  I  praid  him  for  to  say 
His  will,  and  I  it  wolde  obey 
After  the  forme  of  his  apprise. 
Tho  spake  he  to  me  in  such  wise 
And  bad  me,  that  I  sholde  shrive 
As  touchende  of  my  wittes  five, 
And  shape  that  they  were  amended 
Of  that  I  hadde  hem  mispended. 


1  Well  theiued,  of  good  manners. 

-  L^ucd,  unlearned  as  the  common  people. 

3  Pleine,  plain. 

4  Queinte,  ingeniously  elaborated. 


For  tho *  be  properly  the  gates, 
Through    which    as    to    the    hert 

algates 2 

Cometh  all  thing  unto  the  feire 
Which  may  the  mannes  foule  em- 

peire.3 

And  now  this  matter  is  brought  in, 
"  My  sone,  I  thenke  first  beginne 
To  wit4  how  that  thin  eye  hath 

stonde, 

The  whiche  is  as  I  understonde 
The  moste  principal  of  alle 
Through  whom  that  peril  may  be- 

falle. 

And  for  to  speke  in  Loves  kinde, 
Full  many  suche  a  man  may  finde 
Whiche  ever  caste  aboute  here  eye 
To  loke  if  that  they  might  aspie 
Ful  ofte  thing  which  hem  ne  touch- 

eth, 

But  only  that  here  herte  soucheth  5 
In  hindringe  of  an  other  wight. 
And  thus  ful  many  a  worthy  knight 
And  many  a  lusty  lady  bothe 
Have  be  full  ofte  si  tile's  wrothe  ; 
So  that  an  eye  is  as  a  thefe 
To  Love,  and  doth  ful  great  mes- 

chefe  ; 

And  also  for  his  owne  part 
Kul  ofte  thilke  firy  dart 
Of  love,  which  that  ever  brenneth, 
Through  him0  into  the  herte  ren- 

neth. 

And  thus  a  mannes  eye  ferst 
Him  selfe  greveth  althenverst,7 
And  many  a  time  that  he  knoweth 
Unto  his  owne  harme  it  groweth. 
My  sone,  herken  now  forthy 
A  tale,  to  be  ware  therby 

Tho,  those.  '-  Algates,  always. 

l-'.inpfire,  impair,  injure. 

To  7<»/V,  to  know. 

Soucheth,  suspected). 

IHtn,  (the  eye).     '  It '  was  used  only  in  the 
nominative  and  accusative.     '  His '  and  *  him ' 
are  both  masculine  and  neuter. 
'  Althcrwerst,  worst  of  all. 


54 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Thin  eye  for  to  kepe  and  warde, 
So  that  it  passe  nought  his  warde. 

"  (>)oib<5  telleth  in  his  boke 
Ensample  touchend  of  misloke 
And  saith,  how  whilom  ther  was  one 
•A  worthy  lord,  whiche  Acteon 
Was  hote,1  and  he  was  cousin  nigh 
To  him  that  Thebes  first  on  high 
Upsette,2  which  king  Cadme  hight. 
This  Acteon,  as  he  wel  might, 
Above  all  other  cast  his  chere,3 
And  used  it  from  yere  to  yere 
With  houndes  and  with  grete  homes 
Among  the  wodes  and  the  thornes 
To  make  his  hunting  and  his  chace  ; 
Where  him  best  thought,  in  every 

place, 

To  finde  gamen  in  his  way, 
There  rode  he  for  to  hunte  and  play. 
So  him  befelle  upon  a  tide  4 
On  his  hunting  as  he  gan  ride 
In  a  foreste  alone  he  was  ; 
He  sigh  6  upon  the  grene  gras 
The  faire  fresshe  floures  springe  ; 
He  herd  among  the  leves  singe 
The  throstel  with  the  nightingale. 
Thus,  er  he  wist,  into  a  dale 
He  came,  wher  was  a  litel  pleine 
All  rounde  aboute  wel  beseine 
With  busshes  grene   and    cedres 

high,— 

And  there  within  he  caste  his  eye. 
Amid  the  plaine  he  saw  a  welle 
So  faire  there  might  no  man  telle, 
In  which  Diana  naked  stood, 
To  bathe  and  play  her  in  the  flood, 
WTith  many  a  nimphe  which   her 

serveth. 

But  he  his  eye  awey  ne  swerveth 
Fro  here,  which  was  naked  all. 
And  she  was  wonder  wroth  withal! , 

1  Jfatf,  called. 

-  Upsette,  set  up. 

3  Cast  Jiischerc,  lifted  his  face. 

*  Upon  a  tide,  upon  a  time.       5  ^v/^  sr,w. 


And  him,  as  she  which  was  god- 

desse, 

Forshope x  anone,  and  the  likenesse 
She  made  him  him  taken  of  an  herte, 
Which  was  tofore  his  houndes  stertc, 
That  ronne  besilich  aboute 
With  many  an  home  and  many  a 

route, 

That  maden  mochel  noise  and  crie  : 
And  atte  laste  unhappilie 
This  hert  his  owne  houndes  slough 
And  him   for  vengeaunce   all   to- 

drough.2 

"  Lo  now,  my  sone,  what  it  is 
A  man  to  caste  his  eye  amis, 
Which  Acteon  hath  dere  abought  ; 
Beware  forth^  3  and  do  it  nought. 
For  ofte,  who  that  hede  toke, 
Better  is  to  winke  than  to  loke. 
And  for  to  proven  it  is  so 
Ovide  the  poete  also 
A  tale,  whiche  to  this  matere 
Accordeth,  saith,  as  thou  shalt  here. 

gn  Methamor  4  it  telleth  thus, 
How  that  a  lord  whiche  Phorceus 
Was  hote,5  hadde  doughters  thre. 
But  upon  their  nativite 
Such  was  the  constellacion, 
That  out  of  mannes  nacion 
For  kinde  they  be  so  miswent, 
That  to  the  likenesse  of  a  serpent 
They  were  bothe,  and  so  that  one 
Of  hem  was  cleped  Stellibone, 
That  other  suster  Suriale, 
The  thrid,  as  telleth  in  the  tale, 
Medusa  hight ;  and  netheles 
Of  comun  name  Gorgones 
In  every  centre  there  about, 
As    monstres     whiche     that    men 

doute,6 

1  I'orsJwpc,  transformed. 

-  All  to-drough,  pulled  to  pieces.    . 

:!  Forthy,  therefore. 

4  I\fethatno>;  (Ovid's)  Metamorphoses. 

•>  Was  hote,  was  called. 

fi  Dontf,  fear. 


BOOK  I. 


55 


Men  clcpen  l  hem  ;  and  but  one  eye 
Among  hem  thrc  in  purpartie- 
They  had  of  which  they  migli; 
Now  hathe  it   this,  nowe  hath    it 

she. 

After  that  cause  and  nede  it  ladde 
By  throwes  eche  of  hem  it  hadde.3 
A  wonder  thing  yet  more  amis 
There  was,  wherof  I  tclle  al  this  : 
What  man  on  hem  his  cherd  caste  4 
And  hem  behelde,  he  was  als  faste 
Out  of  a  man  into  a  stone 
Forshape,5  and  thus  ful  many  one 
Deceived  were,  of  that  they  wolde 
Mistake  where  that  they  ne  shulde. 
But  Perseus  that  worthy  knight, 
Whom  Pallas  of  her  grete  might 
Halpe,  and  toke  him  a  shield  therto, 
And  eke  the  god  Mercury  also 
Lent  him  a  swerde,  he,  as  it  fell, 
Beyond  Athlans  the  highe  hill 
These  monstres  sought,  and  there 

he  fonde 

Diverse  men  of  thilke  londe 
Through  sight  of  hem  mistorne'd 

were 

Stondend  as  stones  here  and  there. 
But  he,  —  which  wisdome  and  prow- 

esse 

Hath  of  the  god  and  the  goddesse,  — 
The  shielde  of  Pallas  gan  embrace, 
With  which  he  covereth  sauf  °  his 

face, 
Mercuries    swerde     and     out     he 

drough, 

And  so  he  bare  him  that  he  slough 
These  drcdfull  monstres  alle  thre. 

"  Lo  now,  my  sone,  avise  the, 
That  thou  thy  sight  nought  misuse  ; 
Cast  nought  thin  eye  upon  Meduse 


,  name.  -  Pin-part  ie,  shnrc. 

As  cause  and  need  directed,  each  of  them 
had  it  at  times. 

•*  His  chere  caste,  turned  his  face. 
r>  I-'crshapc,  transformed. 
e  Sauf,  safely. 


That  thou  be  torned  into  stone. 
For  so  wise  man  was  never  none 
But  if  he  woll  his  eye  kepe 
And  take  of  foul  delite  no  kepe,1 
That  he  with  luste'  nis  2  ofte  nome 
Through  strengthe  of  love,  and  over 

come. 

Of  mislokinge  how  it  hath  ferde, 
As  I  have  told,  now  hast  thou  herdc. 


god6  sond,  take  good  hede, 
And  over  this  yet  I  thee  rede,3 
That  thou  beware  of  thin  hering, 
Which  to  the  herte'  the  tiding 
Of  many  a  vanite  hath  brought 
To  tarie  with  4  a  mannes  thought. 
And  nethdles  good  is  to  here 
Such  thing,  wherof  a  man  may  lerc 
That6  to  vertue  is  accordaunt  ; 
And  toward  all  the  remenaiint 
Good  is  to  torne  his  ere'  fro, 
For  elles  but  a  man  do  so 
Him  may  ful  ofte'  misbefalle. 
I  rede  ensample  amonges  alle, 
\Vherof  to  kepe  wel  an  ere 
It  ought^  put  a  man  in  fere. 

"A  serpent,  which  that  aspidis 
Is  clepe'd,  of  his  kinde  hath  this, 
That  he  the  stone  noble'st  of  alle 
The  which  that  men  carbuncle  calle 
Berethin  his  heed  above  on  heighte 
For  which  whan  that   a  man  by 

sleighte, 
The  stone  to  winne   and   him   to 

daunte 
With  his  carecte6  him  wolde  en- 

chaunte, 

Anonc  as  he  perceiveth  that, 
He  lith  down  his  one  ere  al  plat 
Unto  the  ground,  and  halt  it  fastc, 
And  eke  that  other  ere  als  faste 

1  .Y<>  kcpc,  no  heed.  -  Ms,  is  not. 

:*  In  addition  to  this  I  counsel  you. 
4  To    tarie    wit/tt    wherewith    to    corrupt, 
French  'tarer.' 
:>  Learn  that  which. 
6  Carcctc,  magic  spell. 


CONFESSIQ  AMANTIS. 


He  stoppeth  with  his  tail  so  sore, 
That  he  the  worde's  lasse  or  more 
Of  his  enchaunte'ment  ne  hereth. 
And    in    this  wise    him   selfe    he 

skiereth,1 

So  that  he  hath  the  wordes  weived  2 

And  thus  his  ere  is  nought  deceived. 

"An  other  thing  who  that  re- 

cordeth 

Lyke  unto  this  ensample  accordeth, 
Whiche  in  the  tale  of  Troye  I  finde. 
Sirenes  of  a  wonder  kinde 
Ben  monstres,  as  the  bokes  tellen, 
And  in  the  Crete  See  3  they  dwellen, 
Of  body  bothe  and  of  visage 
Like  unto  women  of  yonge  age 
Up  fro  the  navel  on  high  they  be, 
And  down  benethe,  as  men  may  se, 
They  bere  of  fisshes  the  figure. 
And  over  this,  of  such  nature 
They  ben,   that  with  so  swete  a 

Steven  4 

Like  to  the  melodic  of  heven 
In  womannishe  vois  they  singe, 
With  notes  of  so  great  likinge, 
Of  suche  mesure,  of  suche  musike, 
Wherof  the  shippes  they  beswike  5 
That  passen  by  the  costes  there. 
For  whan  the  shipmen  lay  an  ere 
Unto  the  vois,  in  here  avis  6 
They  wene  it  be  a  paradis, 
Whiche  after  is  to  hem  an  helle. 
For  reson  may  nought  with  hem 

dwelle 

Whan  they  the  grete  lustes  7  here, 
They  conne  nought  here   shippes 

stere  ; 

So  besilich  upon  the  note 
They   herken   and    in    such   wise 

assote,8 


1  Skiereth,  secureth.      -  IVd-ved,  set  aside. 
3  The  Grete  See,  was  the  name  of  the  Medi 
terranean. 
*  Steven,  voice.  6  Beswike,  betray. 

6  Here  avis,  their  opinion. 

7  Lustes,  delight. 

8  Assote,  become  besotted. 


That  they  here   righte   cours   and 

weie 

Foryete,  and  to  their  ere  obeie, 
And  sailen  till  it  so  befalle 
That  they  into  the  perill  falle 
Where  as  the  shippes  ben  to-drawe 
And  they  ben  with  the  monstres 

slawe. 

But  fro  this  peril  netheles 
With  his  wisdom  king  Ulixes 
Escapeth  and  it  over  passeth, 
For  he  to-fore  thehond1  compasseth 
That  no  man  of  his  compaignie 
Hath  power  unto  that  folie 
His  ere  for  no  lust  to  caste. 
For  he  hem  stopped  alle  faste, 
That  non   of  hem  may  here  hem 

sing. 

So  whan  they  comen  forth  sailing, 
There  was   such  governaunce   on 

honde 
That  they  the  monstres  have  with- 

stonde, 

And  slain  of  hem  a  great  partie. 
Thus  was  he  sauf  with  his  navie 
This    wise    king    through    gover 
naunce. 
"Herof,   my    sone,    in    remem- 

braunce, 

Thou  might  ensample  taken  here 
As  I  have  tolde,  and  what  thou  here 
Be  wel  ware,  and  yef  no  credence 
But  if2  thou  se  more  evidence. 
For  if  thou  woldest  take  kepe  3 
And   wisely   couthest   warde    and 

kepe 

Thine  eye  and  ere,  as  I  have  spoke, 
Than  haddest  thou  the  gate's  stoke 4 
Fro  such  foly  as  cometh  to  winne 
Thin  hertes  wit  whiche  is  withinne. 
Wherof,  that  now  thy  love  excedeth 
Mesure,  and  many  a  peine  bredeth  : 

1  To-fore  the  hond,  before  hand. 

2  But  if,  unless. 

3  Take  kepe,  take  heed. 

4  Stoke  fro,  barred  against. 


BOOK  I. 


57 


But  if  thou  couthest  sette  in  reule 
Tho  two,  the  thre  were  eth l  to  reule. 
Forthy  as  of  thy  wittes  five 
I  wol  as  nowe  no  more  shrive, 
But  only  of  these  ilke'  two. 
Tel  me,  therfore,  if  it  be  so, — 
Hast  thou  thine  eye'  nought  mis- 
throwe  ?  " 

"  My  fader  yea,  I  am  beknowe, 
I  have  hem  cast  upon  Meduse, 
Therof  I  may  me  nought  excuse. 
Min  hert  is  growe*n  into  stone, 
So  that  my  lady  there  upon 
Hath  suche  a  printe  of  Love  grave, 
That  I  can  nought  my  selfe  save.' 

*  What  saist  thou  sone,  as  of  thin 

ere?" 

"  My  fader,  I  am  gilty  of  there, 
For  whanne  I  my  lady  here, 
My  wit  with  that  hath  lost  his  stere. 
I  do  nought  as  Ulixes  dede, 
But  falle  anon  upon  the  stede  2 
Where  as  I  se  my  lady  stonde. 
And  there  I  do  you  understonde  3 
I  am  to-pulled  in  my  thought, 
So  that  of  reson  leveth  4  nought 
WTherof  that  I  me  may  defende." 

"My  gode  sone,  God  the  amende. 
For  as  me  thenketh  by  thy  speche 
Thy  wittes  ben  right  far  to  seche. 
As  of  thin  ere  and  of  thin  eye 
I  wol  no  more  specific, 
But  I  woll  axen  over  this 
Of  other  thing  how  that  it  is. 

[Of  the  Seven  Deadly  Sins:  and 

PRIDE,  the  First  of  them.'] 
j35lj>  sone,  as  I  thee  shall  enforme, 
There  ben  yet  of  another  forme 

1  Eth,,  easy.  '  The  two '  are  sight  and  hear 
ing,  which  have  been  discussed  ;  if  you  could 
rule  those  two  of  the  Five  Senses,  it  would  he 
easy  to  rule  the  other  three.  Therefore  of  the 
rest  of  the  five,  &c. 

*  Stede,  place. 

a  M;tke  you  to  understand. 

4  Lci'tf/t,  remaineth. 


Of  Dedly  Vices,  Seven  applied, 

Wherof  the  herte  is  ofte  plied  l 

To  thing  which  after  shal  him  greve. 

The  first  of  hem  thou  shalt  beleve 

Is  Pride',  whiche  is  principal!, 

And  hath  with  him  in  speciall 

Ministres  five*  ful  diverse, 

Of  which  as  I  thee  shal  reherse 

The  first  is  said  Ypocrisie. 

If  thou  art  of  his  compaignie 

Tel  forth,  my  sone,  and  shrive  thee 

clene." 
"  I  wote  nought,  fader,  what  ye 

mene, 

But  this  I  wolde  you  beseche, 
That  ye  me  by  somweie'  teche 
What  is  to  ben  an  ypocrite. 
And  than  if  I  be  for  to  wite  2 
I  wol  beknowen  3  as  it  is." 
^    "  My  sone,  an  ypocrite  is  this, — 
A  man  which  feigneth  conscience 
As  though  it  were  al  innocence 
Without,  and  is  nought  so  withinne  ; 
And  doth  so,  for  he  wolde  winne 
Of  his  desire  the  vein  estate  : 
And  whan  he  cometh  anone  thereat, 
He  sheweth  thanne'  what  he  was  ; 
The  corne  is  torne'd  into  gras, 
That  was  a  rose  is  than  a  thorne, 
And  he  that  was  a  lamb  beforne 
Is  than  a  wolfe  ;  and  thus  malice 
Under  the  colour  of  justice 
Is  had,  and,  as  the  people  telleth, 
These    Ordres   witen 4  where    he 

dwelleth 

As  he  that  of  her5  counseil  is  ; 
And  thilke  world,  which  they  er  this 
Forsoken,  he  draweth  in  ayeine  ; 
He  clotheth  richesse,  as  men  saine, 
Under  the  simplest  of  poudrte 
And  doth  to  seme  of  great  deserte 

1  Plied,  bent. 

2  To  mitt,  to  blame. 

'••  lii'kumven,  acknowledge  and  confess. 
*  These  religious  orders  Icnow. 
5  Her,  their. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Thing  whicheislitel  worth  withinne, 
He  saith,  in  open,  fy  !  to  sinne, 
And  in  secre  there  is  no  vice 
Of  which  that  he  nis  a  nonce.1 
And  ever  his  chere  is  sobre  and 

softe, 

And  where  he  goth  he  blesseth  ofte. 
Wherof  the  blinde  world  he  dre- 

cheth,2 

But  yet  all  only  he  ne  strecheth 
His  reule  upon  religion. 
But  next  to  that  condicion, 
In  suche  as  clepe  hem  holy  cherche, 
It  sheweth  eke  howe  he  can  werche 
Amonge  tho  wide  furred  nodes 
To  geten  hem  the  worldes  goodes. 
And  they  have  self  ben  thilke  same 
Thatsetten  most  the  world  in  blame, 
But  yet  in  contraire  of  here  lore 
There  is  nothing  they  loven  more  ; 
So  that,feignend  of  light,  they  werke 
The  dedes  whiche  are  inward  derke, 
And  thus  this  double  Ypocrisie 
With  his  devoute  apparancie, 
A  viser  set  upon  his  face 
Wherof  toward  this  worldes  grace 
He  semeth  to  be  right  wel  thewed, 
And  yet  his  herte  is  all  beshrewed 
But  netheles  he  stant  beleved 
And  hath  his  purpos  ofte  achieved 
Of  worship  and  of  worldes  welthe, 
And  taketh  it  as  who  saith  by  stelthc 
Through  coverture  of  his  fallas.3 
And  right  so  in  semblable  cas 
This  Vice  hath  eke  his  officers 
Among  these  other  seculers 
Of  grete  men,— for  of  the  smale 
As  for  to  accompt  he  set  no  tale,4 
But  they  that  passen  the  comiine 
With  suche  him  liketh  5  to  comune  ; 

1  Norice,  nurse. 

-  Dree  fifth,  troubleth. 

3  Coverture  of  his /alias,  concealment  of  his 
deceit. 

4  Set  no  tale,  makes  no  account. 
0  Him  liketh,  it  pleases  him. 


And  where  he  saith  he  wol  socoure 
The  people,  there  he  wol  clevoure. 
For  now-a-day  is  many  one 
Which  speketh  of  Peter  and  of  John 
And  thenketh  Judas  in  his  herte  ; 
There  shall  no  worldes  good  astertc l 
His  honde,  and  yet  he  yeveth  al- 

messe 

And  fasteth  ofte  and  hereth  messe 
With  mea  culpa,  whiche  he  saith  ; 
Upon  his  brest  ful  ofte  he  leith 
His   hond   and    cast    upwdrd    his 

eye, 

As  though  he  Cristes  face  seie, 
So  that  it  semeth  atte  sight 
As  he  alone  al  other  might 
Rescue  with  his  holy  bede.2 
But  yet  his  herte  in  other  stede 
Among  his  bedes  most  devoute 
Goth  in  the  worldes  cause  aboute, 
How  that  he  might  his  warison  3 
Encrese,  and  in  comparison 
There  ben  lovers  of  suche  a  sorte, 
That  feignen  hem  an  humble  porte, 
And  al  is  but  Ypocrisie, 
Which  with  deceipte  and  flaterie 
Hath  many  a  worthy  wife  beguiled. 
For  whan  he  hath  his  tunge  affiled 
With  softe  speche  and  with  lesinge 
Than  with  his  fals  pitous  lokinge 
He  wolde  make  a  woman  wene 
To  gon  upon  the  faire  grene, 
Whan  that  she  falleth  in  the  mire. 
For  if  he  may  have  his  desire, 
How  so  falle  of  the  remenaunt, 
He  halt 4  no  worde  of  covenaunt, 
But  er  the  time  that  he  spede 
There  is  no  slcighte  at  thilke  nedc, 
Which  any  loves  faitour5  may, 
That  he  ne  put  it  in  assay 
As  him  belongeth  for  to  done. 
The  colour  of  the  reiny  mone 

1  A stefti',  escape  from.  -  l>cdc,  prayer. 

3  IVarison,  advantage. 

4  Halt,  holds.  *  Faitour,  dissembler. 


BOOK  L— PRIDE. 


59 


With  medicine  upon  his  face 
He  set,  and  than  lie  axcth  grace, 
As  he  which  hath  sikenesse  feigned  ; 
Whan  his  visdge  is  so  disteigned, 
With  eye  up  cast  on  her  he  siketh 
And  many  a  continaunce  he  piketh  l 
To  bringen  her  into  beleve 
Of  thing  which  that  he  wold  acheve, 
Wherof  he  bereth  the  pale  hewe, 
And  for  he  wolde*  seme  trewe 
He  maketh  him  sike,  whan  he  is 

heil. 

But  whan  he  bereth  lowest  sail, 
Than  is  he  swiftest  to  beguile 
The  woman  which  that  ilke  while 
Set  upon  him  feith  or  credence. 

"  My  sone,  if  thou  thy  conscience 
Entamed  2  hast  in  such  a  wise, 
In  shrifte  thou  the  might  avise 
And  telle  it  me,  if  it  be  so." 

"  Min  holy  fader,  certes  no. 
As  for  to  feigne  such  sikendsse 
It  nedeth  nought,  for  this  witnesse 
I  take  of  God,  that  my  cordge  3 
Hath  ben  more  sike  than  my  visdge. 
And  eke  this  may  I  well  avowe, 
So  lowe  couthe  I  never  bovve 
To  feigne  humilite  withoute 
That  me  ne  liste  better  loute 
With  all  the  thoughtes  of  min  herte. 
For    that    thing    shall    me   never 

asterte, 

I  speke  as  to  my  lady  dere, 
To  make  her  any  feigne'd  chere  ; 
God  wot  well  there  I  lie  nought, 
My  chere  hath  been  such  as  my 

thought. 

For  in  good  feith,  this  leveth  wele,4 
My  wil  was  better  a  thousand  dele 
Than  any  chere'  that  I  couthe.5 
"  But  sire,  if  I  have  in  my  youthe 


,  pitches,  sets  up. 
-  Entatned,  subdued. 

3  Corage,  disposition  of  the  heart. 

4  Believe  well. 

0  Than  any  face  that  I  could  put  on. 


Done  other  wise  in  other  place, 
I  put  me  therof  in  your  grace. 
For  this  excusen  I  ne  shall, 
That  I  have  elles  over  all 
To  Love  and  to  his  compaignic 
Be  plein  without  ypocrisie. 
But  there  is  one,  the  whiche  I  serve, 
All  though  I  may  no  thank  deserve, 
To  whom  yet  never  unto  this  day 
I  saide  onlich  or  *  ye '  or  *  nay,' 
But  if  it  so  were  in  my  thought 
As  touchend  other  say  I  nought 
That  I  nam  somdele  for  to  wite  l 
Of  that  ye  clepe  an  ypocrite." 

"  My  sone,  it  sit  wel  every  wight 
To  kepe  his  worde  in  trouth  upright 
Towardes  Love  in  alle  wise. 
For  who  that  wold  him  wel  avise 
What  hath  befalle  in  this  matere, 
Heshulde'  nought  withfeigned  chere 
Deceive  Love  in  no  degre. 
To  Love  is  every  herte  fre, 
But  in  deceipt  if  that  thou  feignest 
And  therupon  thy  luste  atteignest, 
That  thou  hast  wonne  with  thy  wile, 
Though  it  thee  like  for  a  while, 
Thou  shalt  it  afterward  repente. 
And  for  to  prove  min  entente 
I  finde  ensample  in  a  cronique 
Of  hem  that  Love"  so  beswike.- 

gt  fell  by  olde  daies  thus, 
Whil  themperour  Tiberius 
The  monarchic  of  Rome  ladde, 
There  was  a  worthy  Romain  hadde 
A  wife,  and  she  Pauline  hight, 
Which  was  to  every  mannes  sight 
Of  al  the  cite  the  fairest 
And  as  men  saiden  eke  the  best. 
It  is  and  hath  ben  ever  yit 
That  so  strong  is  no  mannes  wit, 
Which  through  beaute"  ne  may  be 

drawe 
To  love,  and  stonde  under  the  lawe 

1  That  I  am  not  some  part  to  blame. 
-  fieswikc,  deceive. 


6o 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  thilke  bore l  freile  kinde, 
Which    maketh    the    hertes    eyen 

blinde, 

Where  no  reson  may  be  communed. 
And  in  this  wise  stode  fortuned 
Of  whiche  I  wol  this  tale  mene, 
This  wife,  whiche  in  her  lustes  grene 
Was  faire  and  fressh  and  tender  of 

age. 

She  may  nought  lette  the  corage 
Of  him  that  wol  on  her  assote.2 
There  was  a   Duke,  and  he  was 

hote3 

Mundus,  which  had  in  his  baillie  4 
To  lede  the  chevalerie 
Of  Rome,  and  was  a  worthy  knight. 
But  yet  he  was  nought  of  such  might 
The  strength  of  love  to  withstonde, 
That  he  ne  was  so  brought  to  honde, 
That  malgre  where  6  he  wol  or  no 
This  yonge  wife  he  loveth  so, 
That  he  hath  put  all  his  assay 
To  winne  thing  which  he  ne  may 
Get  of  her  graunt  in  no  manere, 
By  yefte  of  gold,  ne  by  praiere. 
And  whan   he   sigh,6  that  by  no 

mede  r 

Toward  her  love  he  mighte  spede, 
By    sleight^    feignend     than     he 

wrought : 

And  therupon  he  him  bethought, 
How  that  there  was  in  the  cite 
A  temple  of  suche  auctorite, 
To  which  with  great  devocion 
The  noble  women  of  the  towne 
Most  comunlich  a  pelerinage 
Gone  for  to  prayd  thilke  ymage, 
Which  the  goddesse  of  childing  is 
And  clepe'd  was  by  name  Ysi's. 
And  in  her  temple  thanne  were 
To  reule  and  to  ministre  there 

1  Bore,  born— born  of  that  frail  nature. 

-  Attott,  dote.  :»  Hote,  called. 

*  Baillie,  office.         •">  Where,  whether. 

•  Sifh,  saw.  7  Mede,  means,  mode. 


After  the  lawe  which  was  tho, 

Above  all  other  prestes  two. 

This  Duke,  which  thought  his  love' 

get, 

Upon  a  day  hem  two  to  mete 
Hath  bede,  and  they  come  at  his 

heste, 

Where  that  they  had  a  riche  feste. 
And  after  mete  in  prive  place 
This  lord,  which  wold  his   thank 

purchase, 

To  eche  of  hem  yaf  thanne  a  yift 
And  spake  so  by  waie  of  shrift, 
He  drough  hem  into  his  covine  1 
To  helpe  and  shape,  how  he  Pauline 
After  his  lust  deceive  might. 
And  they  her2  trouthes  bothe  plight, 
That   they  by  night   her  shulden 

winne 

Into  the  temple,  and  he  therinne 
Shall  have  of  her  all  his  entent. 
And  thus  accorded  forth  they  went. 
Now  list,  through  which  Ypocrisie 
Ordeigned  was  the  trecherie, 
Wherof  this  lady  was  deceived. 
These  prestes   hadden    wel    con 
ceived, 

That  she  was  of  great  holinesse. 
And  with  a  counterfeit  simplesse, 
Which  hid  was  in  a  fals  corage, 
Feignend  an  hevenly  message 
They  cam  and  saide  unto  her  thus  : 
Pauline,  the  god  Anubus 
Hath  sent  us  bothe  prestes  here 
And  saith,  he  wol  to  the  appere 
By  nightes  time  him  selfe  alone, 
For  love  he  hath  to  thy  persone. 
And  therupon  he  hath  us  bede, 
That  we  in  Ysis  temple  a  stede 
Honestly  for  thee  purveie, 
Where  thou  by  night  as  we  thee 

saie 
Of  him  shalt  take  a  vision. 

1  Covine,  secret  treacherous  agreement. 

2  Her,  their. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


61 


For  upon  thy  condicion, 

The  whiche  is  chaste  and  full  of 

feith, 

Suche  price,  as  he  us  tolde,  he  leith, 
That  he  wol  stonde  of  thin  accorde  ; 
And  for  to  beare  herof  recorde 
He  sende  us  hider  bothe'  two. 
Glad  was  her  innocence  tho 
Of  suchd  wordes  as  she  herd, 
With  humble  chere  and   thus  an- 

swerd 

And  saide,  that  the  goddes  will 
She  was  all  redy  to  fulfill, 
That  by  her  husebondes  leve 
She  wolde  in  Ysis  temple  at  eve 
Upon  her  goddes  grace  abide 
To  serven  him  the  nightes  tide. 
The  prestos  tho  gon  home  ayeine, 
And  she  goth  to  her  sovereine  ; 
Of  goddes  will  and  as  it  was l 
She  tolde  him  all  the  plaine  cas, 
Wherof  he  was  deceived  eke, 
And  bad  that  she  her  shulde  meke 
All  hole  unto  the  goddes  heste. 
And  thus  she,  which  was  all  honeste 
To  godward,  after  her  entent 
At  night  unto  the  temple  went 
Where  that  the  false'  prestes  were. 
And  they  receiven  her  there 
With  suche  a  token  of  holinesse, 
As  though  they  seen  a  goddesse  ; 
And  all  within  in  prive  place 
A  softs'  bedde  of  large  space 
They  hadde  made  and  encortined, 
Where  she  was  afterward  engined.2 
But  she,  whiche  all  honour  sup- 

poseth, 

The  false  prestes  than  opposeth 
And  axeth  by  what  observaunce 
She  mighte  most  to  the  plesaunce 
Of  god  that  nightes  reule  kepe. 
And  they  her  bidden  for  to  slepe 

1  And  she  told  all  the  plain  case,  of  how  it 
was  the  god's  will.  'And*  was  not  always 
placed  at  the  beginning  of  a  clause. 

i  trapped  by  a  crafty  contrivance. 


Liggend  upon  the  bedde  a  loft, 
For,  so  they  said,  al  still  and  soft 
God  Anubus  her  wolde  awake. 
The  counseil  in  this  wise  take 
The  preste's  fro  this  lady  gone. 
And  she  that  wiste  of  guile  none 
In  the  maner  as  it  was  said 
To  slepe  upon  the  bedde  is  leid, 
In  hope  that  she  sholde  acheve 
Thing  which  stode  than  uponbeleve 
Fulfilled  of  all  holinesse. 
But  she  hath  failed  as  I  gesse, 
For  in  a  closet  fasts'  by 
The  Duke  was  hid  so  prively, 
That  she  him  mighte  nought  per 

ceive. 

And  he  that  thoughte  to  deceive 
Hath  suche  array  upon  him  nome,1 
That  whan  he  wold  unto  her  come 
It  shulde  semen  at  her  eye, 
As  though  she  verriliche  seie 
God  Anubus,  and  in  suche  wise 
This  Ypocrite  of  his  queintise 
Awaiteth  ever  til  she  slept. 
And  than  out  of  his  place  he  crept 
So  stilte,  that  she  nothing  herde, 
And  to  the  bed  stalkend  he  ferdc 
And  sodeinly,  er  she  it  wiste, 
eclipt  in  arme's  he  her  kiste, 
Wherof  in  womannisshe  drede 
iShe  woke  and  niste  what  to  rede.2 
But  he  with  softe  wordes  milde 
Comforteth    her    and    saith,    with 

childe 
He  wolde  her  make   in   suche  a 

kinde, 
That   al   the  world  shall  have  in 

minde 

The  worshippe  of  that  ilke*  sone  ; 
For  he  shall  with  the  goddes  wone  3 
And  ben  him  selfe  a  god  also. 
With  suche*  worde's  and  with  mo, 


1  Nome,  taken. 

2  Knew  not  what  counsel  to  take. 
:!  //  'one,  dwell. 


62 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  which  he  feigneth  in  his  speche, 
This  ladies  wit  was  al  to  seche,1 
As  she  which  alle  trouthe  weneth. 
But  he,  that  all  untrouthe  meneth, 
With  blinde  tale's  so  her  ladde, 
That  all  his  will  of  her  he  hadde. 
And  whan  him  thought  it  was  inough, 
Ayein  the  day  he  him  Avithdrough 
So  prively,  that  she  ne  wiste 
Where  he  be  come,  but  as  him  liste 
Out  of  the  temple  he  goth  his  way. 
And  she  began  to  bid  and  pray, 
Upon  the  bare  ground  knelende, 
And  after  that  made  her  offrende 
And  to  the  prestes  yeftes  great 
She  yaf,and  homeward  by  the  strete 
The  Duke  her  mette  and  saide  thus : 
*  The  mighty  god,  whiche  Anubus 
Is  hote,  he  save  the  Pauline, 
For  thou  art  of  his  discipline 
So  holy,  that  no  mannes  might 
May  do  that  he  hath  do  to  night, 
Of  thing   which    thou    hast    ever 

eschued. 

But  I  his  grace  have  so  pursued, 
That  I  was  made  his  lieutenaunt. 
Forthy  by  way  of  covenaunt 
Fro  this  day  forth  I  am  all  thine, 
And  if  thee  like  to  be  mine 
That  stant  upon  thin  owne  wille.' 
She  herde  his  tale  and  bare  it  stille 
And  home  she  went  as  it  befell 
Into  her  chambre  and  there  she  fell 
Upon  her  bed  to  wepe  and  crie 
And  saide  :  O  derke  Ypocrisie, 
Through  whose  dissimulation 
Of  false  ymagination 
I  am  thus  wickedly  deceived  ! 
But  that  I  have  it  apperceived 
I  thonke  unto  the  godde's  alle. 

1  All  to  seek,  all  away,  as  she  who  believes 
all  to  be  truth.  '  To  seek '  was  a  phrase  long 
used  to  represent  want  of  knowledge.  So  the 

tlder  brother  in  Milton's  Comus 

r*'  '  I  do  not  thfnFmy  sister  so  to  seek 

Or  so  undisciplined  in  virtue's  book.' 


For  though  it  ones  be  befalle 
I  shall  never  eft  while  that  I  live, 
And  thilke  avow  to  god  I  yive. 
And  thus  wepende  she  compleignet  h 
Her  faird  face  and  all  disteigneth 
With  wofull  teres  of  her  eye, 
So  that  upon  this  agonie 
Her  husebonde  is  inne  come 
And  sigh  1  how  she  was  overcome 
With  sorwe,  and  axeth  her  what 

her  eileth. 

And  she  with  that  her  self  beweileth 
Well  more  than  she  didde  afore 
And  said  :  *  Alas,  wifehode  is  lore 
In  me  which  whilom  was  honest, 
I  am  none  other  than  a  beste 
No  we  I  defouled  am  of  two  !  ' 
And  as  she  mighte  speake  tho 
Ashamed  with  a  pitous  onde,2 
She  tolde  unto  her  husebonde 
The  soth  of  all  the  hole  tale, 
And  in  her  speche  dead  and  pale 
She  swouneth  well  nigh  to  the  laste. 
And  he  her  in  his  armes  faste 
Upheld  and  ofte  swore  his  oth, 
That  he  with  her  is  nothing  wroth, 
For  wel   he  wot    she   may  there 

nought. 

But  netheles  within  his  thought 
His  hert  stode  in  a  sory  plite 
And  said,  he  wolde  of  that  despite 
Be  venged  how  so  ever  it  falle  ; 
And  send  unto  his  frendes  alle, 
And  whan  they  werd  come  infere," 
He  tolde  hem  upon  this  matere 
And  axeth  hem  what  was  to  done. 
And  they  avised  were  sone 
And  said,  it  thought  hem  for  the 

beste 

To  sette'  first  his  wife  in  reste 
And  after  pleine  to  the  king 
Upon  the  matter  of  this  thing. 
Tho  was  his  wofull  wife  comforted 


-  Ondc,  anger. 


Inft-->\\  tM<7ether. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


By  allc  wait's  and  disported, 
Til  that  she  was  somdele  amended. 
And  thus  a  day  or  two  dispendcd 
The  thridde  day  she  goth  to  pleine 
With  many  a  worthy  citezeine 
And  he  with  many  a  citczein. 
Whan  themperour  it  herde  saine 
And  knew  the  falsehed  of  the  vice, 
He  said  he  woldd  do  justice. 
And  first  he  let  the  prestes  take, 
And  for  they  shulde  it  nought  for 
sake1 

He  put  hem  into  questirin. 
But  they  of  the  suggest! 6n 
Ne  couthe*  nought  a  word  refuse, 
But  for  they  wold  hem  self  excuse 
The  blame  upon  the  Duke  they 

laide. 

But  thereayein  the  counseil  saide, 
That  they  be  nought  excused  so 
For  he  is  one  and  they  be  two, 
And  two  have  more'  wit  than  one, 
So  thilke  excusement  was  none. 
And  over  that,  was  said  hem  eke 
That  whan  men  wolden  vertue  seke 
Men  shulden  it  in  the  preste's  findc, 
Their  ordre  is  of  so  high  a  kinde, 
That  they  be  divisers  2  of  the  wey. 
Forthy  if  any  man  forswey  3 
Through  hem,  they  be  nought  ex 
cusable, 

And  thus  by  lawe*  resondble 
Among  the  wise'  juge"s  there 
The  preste's  bothe*  dampned  were, 
So  that  the  prive*  trecher}' 
Hid  under  false  Ypocrisie 
Was  thanne  all  openlichd  shewed, 
That  many  a  man  hem  hath  be- 

shrewed. 

And  whan  the  preste's  weren  dede, 
The  temple  of  thilk  horrfble  dede 
They  thoughten  purge  and  thilke 
ymage 

1  Forsake,  deny.  -   Dh-isers,  tellers. 

*  Forsivty,  swerve  aside,  go  wrong. 


Whose  cause  was  the  pelrina'ge 
They  drowen  out  and  also  faste 
Fer  into  Tiber  they  it  caste, 
Where  the  rive'r  it  hath  defied.1 
And  thus  the  temple  purified 
They  have  of  thilke  horrible  sinne, 
Which  was  that  time  do  2  therinne. 
Of  this  point  such  was  the  divise. 
But  of  the  duke  was  othenvise  ; 
For3  he  with  love  was  bestad 
His  dome  was  nought  so  harde*  lad. 
For  love  put  refon  awey 
And  can  nought  se  the  righte  wcy. 
And  by  this  cause. he  was  respfted, 
So  that  the  deth  him  was  acqufted, 
But  for  all  that  he  was  exiled, 
For  he  his  love  had  so  beguiled, 
That  he  shall  never  come  ayeine. 
For  he  that  is  to  trouth  unpleine 
He  may  nought  failen  of  vengeaunce 
And  eke  to  take*  remembraunce 
Of  that  Ypocrisie  hath  wrought. 
On  other  half,  men  shulde  nought 
To  lightly  leve  all  that  they  here, 
But  thanne  shulde  a  wiseman  sterc 
The  ship,  whan  suchdwinde's  blowe  ; 
For  first  though  they  beginne  lowc, 
At  ende  they  be  nought  mevablc,* 
But  all  to-broken  mast  and  cable. 
So  that  the  ship,  with  sodain  blast 
Whan  men  leste  wene,  is  overcast. 
As  now  full  ofte  a  man  may  se, 
And  of  old  time  how  it  hath  be 
I  finde  a  great  experience, 
Wherof  to  take  an  evidence 
Good  is,  and  to  beware  also 
Of  the  perfll  er  him  be  woo/' 
"$f    hem    that    ben    so    derk 

withinne 
At  Troie  also  if  we  beginne, 

1  Defied,  digested.     So  in  'The  Vision  of 
Piers  Plowman,"  'wyn  the  roste  to  defye.' 
-  At  that  time  done. 

3  For,  because. 

4  MrsaMf,  to  be  moved. 
•''  Before  woe  betides  hinj. 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


Ypocrisie  it  hath  betraied. 
For  whan  the  Grekes  had  all  assaied 
And  founde  that  by  no  bataile 
Ne  by  no  siege  it  might  availe 
The  town  to  winne  through  prow- 

esse, 

This  Vice  feigned  of  simplesse, 
Through  sleight  of  Calcas  and  of 

Crise 

It  wan  by  such  a  maner  wise  : — 
An  horse  of  brass  they  let  do  forge 
Of  suche  entaile,1  of  suche  a  forge, 
That  in  this  world  was  never  man 
That  such  an  other  werk  began. 
The  crafty  werkeman  Epius 
It  made,  and  for  to  telle  thus, 
The  Grekes  that  thoughten  to  be 
guile 

The  king  of  Troie  in  thilke  while 
With  Antenor  and  with  Enee, 
That  were  bothe  of  the  citee 
And  of  the  counseil  the  wisest, 
The  richest  and  the  mightiest, 
In  prive  place  so  they  trete 
With  fair  beheste  and  yeftes  grete 
Of  gold,  that  they  hem  have  enginod 
To-gider  and  whan  they  be  covined, 
They  feignen  for  to  make  pees, 
And  under  that  yet  netheless 
They  shopen  the  destruction 
Bothe  of  the  king  and  of  the  town. 
And  thus  the  false  pees  was  take 
Of  hem  of  Grece  and  undertake, 
And  therupon  they  founde  a  way, 
Where    strengthe   mighte  nought 

away, 

That  sleighte  shulde  helpe  thanne, 
And  of  an  inche  a  large  spanne,2 
By  colour  of  the  pees  they  made  : 
And  tolden  how  they  were  glade 
Of  that  they  stoden  in  -accorde, 
And,  for  it  shall  ben  of  recorde, 

1  Entaile,  carving. 

2  An  ell  should  be  got  out  of  an  inch  under 
outward  show  of  the  peace  made. 


Unto  the  king  the  Gregois  saiden 
By  way   of  love    and    thus    they 

praiden, — 
As  they  that  wolden    his    thank 

deserve, 

A  sacrifice  unto  Minerve 
The  pees  to  kepe  in  good  entent 
They  must  offre,  or  that  they  went. 
The  King,  counselled  in  the  cas 
By  Antenor  and  Eneds, 
Therto  hath  yoven  his  assent. 
So  was  the  pleine  trouthe  blent J 
Through  counterfeit  Ypocrisie. 
Of  that  they  shulden  sacrifie 
The  Grekes  under  the  holinesse 
Anone  with  alle  besinesse 
Here  hors  of  brass  let  faire  dight. 
Which  was  to  sene  a  wonder  sight. 
For  it  was  trapped  of  him  selve 
And  had  of  smale  whelms  twelve, 
Upon  the  whiche  men  inowe 
With  craft  toward  the  town  it  drowe, 
And  goth  glistrend  ayein  the  sonne. 
Tho  was  there  joie  inough  begonne, 
For  Troie  in  great  devocion 
Came  also  with  procession 
Ayein  this  noble  sacrifice 
With  great  honour,  and  in  this  wise 
Unto  the  gates  they  it  broughte  : 
But  of  here  entre  whan  theysoughte, 
The  gates  weren  all  to  smale. 
And  therupon  was  many  a  tale  ; 
But  for  the  worship  of  Minerve, 
To  whom  they  comen  for  to  serve, 
They  of  the  town  which  understood 
That  all  this   thing  was  done  for 

good, 
For  pees,   wherof  that   they  ben 

glade, 

The  gates  that  Neptunus  made 
A  thousand  winter  ther  to-fore 
They  have  anone  to-broke  and  tore, 
The  strongs'  walles  down  they  bete, 
So  that  into  the  large  strete 

1  Blent,  blinded. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


This  horse  with  great  solempnite 
Was  brought  withinne'  the  cite*, 
And  offred  with  great  reverence, 
Which  was  to  Troie  an  evidence 
Of  love  and  pees  for  evermo. 
The  Gregois  token  leve  tho 
With  all  the  hole  felaship, 
And  forth  they  wenten  into  ship, 
And  crossen  sail,  and  made  hem 

yare,1 

Anone  as  though  they  wolden  fare.2 
But  whan  the  blacke  winter  night 
Withoute  mone  or  sterre  light 
Bederke'd  hath  the  water  stronde, 
Al  privily  they  gone  to  londe 
Full  armed  out  of  the  navie. 
Sinon,  whiche  made  was  here  espie 
Withinne  Troie,  as  was  conspired, 
Whan  time  was,  a  tokne  hath  fired, 
And  they  with  that  here  waie  holden 
And  comen  in,  right  as  they  wolden, 
There  as  the  gatd  was  to-broke. 
The  purpose  was  full  take  and  spoke 
Er  any  man  may  teke  kepe, 
Whil  that  the  citee  was  aslepe  ; 
They  slowen  a)  that  was  withinne 
And  token  what  they  mightenwinne 
Of  such  good  as  was  suffisaunt 
And  brenden  3  up  the  remenaunt. 
And  thus  come  out  the  trecherie, 
Which  under  false  Ypocrisie 
Was  hid,  and  they  that  wende 4  pees 
Tho  mighten  finde  no  releese 
Of    thilke    swerd    whiche    al    de- 

voureth. 

Full  ofte  and  thus  the  swete  sourcth 
Whan  it  is  knowe  to  the  taste, 
He  spilleth  many  a  worde  in  waste 
That  shal  with  such  a  people  trete, 
For  whan  he  weneth  most  beyete  5 
Than  is  he  shape  most  to  lese. 


\~arc,  ready. 

As  though  they  would  go. 

Krenden,  burnt. 

Wcndf*  hoped  for,  expected. 

When  he  expects  to  get  most. 


And  right  so  if  a  woman  chese1 
Upon  the  wordes  that  she  hereth, 
Som  man  whan  he  most  true  ap- 

pereth 

Than  is  he  furthest  fro  the  trouthe. 
But  yet  full  ofte,  and  that  is  routhe, 
They  speden  that  ben  most  untrue 
And  loven  every  day  a  newe, 
Wherof  the  life  is  after  lothe 
And  love  hath  cause  to  be  wrothe. 
But  what  man  that  his  lust  desireth 
Of  love  and  therupon  conspireth 
With  wordes  feigne'd  to  deceive, 
He  shall  nought  faile  to  receive 
His  peine  as  it  is  ofte*  sene. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  as  I  the  mene, 
It  sit  thee  well  to  taken  hede, 
That  thou  escheue  of  thy  manhede 
Ypocrisie  and  his  semblaunt, 
That  thou  ne  be  nought  deceivaunt 
To  make  a  woman  to  beleve 
Thing   whiche   is   nought    in    thy 

beleve. 

For  in  suche  feint  Ypocrisie 
Of  Love  is  all  the  trecherie, 
Through  which  love  is  deceived 

ofte. 

For  feigne'd  semblaunt  is  so  softe, 
Unnethe's2  Love*  may  be  ware. 
Forthy  my  sone,  as  I  well  dare, 
I  charg^  the  to  flee  that  vice, 
That  many  a  woman  hath  made 

nice, 
But  loke  thou  dele  nought  with- 

all."— 
"Iwis3    my    fader,     no     more     I 

shall."— 
"  Now,  sone*,  kepe  that  thou  hast 

swore. 

For  this  that  thou  hast  herd  before 
Is  said  the  firste'  point  of  Pride. 
And  next  upon  that  other  side 

1  Chese,  choose. 

'-'  i/HHttAJs,  not  easily. 

3  Iwis  ("  gewis  ")  certainly. 


66 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


To  shrive  and  speken  over  this, 
Touchend  of  Pride',  yet  there  is 
The  Point  Seconde  I  thee  behote,1 
Which  Inobedience  is  hote. 

Inobedicncc. 

llfjio  !&ice  of  Inobedience 
Ayein  the  reule  of  conscience 
All  that  is  humble  he  disaloweth, 
That  he  toward  his  God  ne  boweth 
After  the  lawes  of  his  heste.2 
Nought  as  a  man,  but  as  a  beste 
Whiche  goth  upon  his  lustes  wilde 
So  goth  this  proude  Vice  unmilde, 
That  he  disdeigneth  alle  lawe. 
He  not 3  what  is  to  be  felawe, 
And  serve  may  he  nought  for  pride. 
So  is  he  ledde  on  every  side 
And   is   that  selve  of  whom  men 

speke, 
Which  woll  nought  bowe  er  that  he 

breke. 

I  not 3  if  Love  might  him  plie,4 
For  elles  for  to  justifie 
His  herte,  I  not3  what  might  availe. 
Forthy  5  my  sone,  of  suche  entaile 
If  that  thin  herte  be  disposed, 
Telle  out  and  let  it  nought  be  glosed. 
For  if  that  thou  unbuxome  °  be 
To  love,  I  not 3  in  what  degre 
Thou     shalt     thy    goode     worde 

achevc."— 

"  My  fader,  ye  shal  well  beleve, 
The  yonge  whelpe  which  is  affaitecl7 
Hath    nought    his    maister   better 

awaited 

To  couche  whan  he  saith  :  go  lowe, 
Than  I  anone  as  I  may  knowe 
My  lady  will  me  bowe  more. 

1  Beliote,  promised. 

2  Heste,  commandment. 

3  Not,  knows  not. 
*  Plic,  bend. 

5  Forthy,  therefore. 

tt  Unbitxonie,  unbending,  un-bow-some. 

7  AffaitL-d,  bound  lo  tome  object,  tamed. 


But  other  while  1  grucche  sore 
Of  some  thinges  that  she  doth, 
Wherof  that  I  woll  telle  soth. 
For  of  two  pointes  I  am  bethought, 
That  though  I  wolde  I  mighte  nought 
Obeie  unto  my  ladies  hest ; 
But  I  dare  make  this  behest 
Sauf  only  of  that  ilke  two, 
I  am  unbuxome  of  no  mo." 
"  What  ben  tho  two,  tell  on,"  quod 

he. 

"  My  fader,  this  is  one,  that  she 
Commaundeth  me  my  mouthe  to 

close, 

And  that  I  shulde  her  nought  oppose 
In  love,  of  whiche  I  ofte  preche, 
And  plenerlich  1  of  suche  a  speche 
Forbere  and  suffre  her  in  pees. 
But  that  ne  might  I  netheles 
For  all  this  worlde  obey  iwis.'- 
For  whan  I  am  there  as  she  is, 
Though  she  my  tales  nought  allowe, 
Ayein  her  will  yet  mote  I  bowe 
To  seche  if  that  I  might  have  grace. 
But  that  thing  may  I  nought  em 
brace 

For  ought  that  I  can  speke  or  do. 
And  yet  full  ofte  I  speke  so, 
That  she  is  wroth  and  saith  :    be 

stille. 

If  I  that  heste  shall  fulfille 
And  therto  ben  obedient, 
Than  is  my  cause  fully  shent, 
For  specheles  may  no  man  spede. 
So  wote  I  nought  what  is  to  rede.3 
But  certes  I  may  nought  obcic, 
That  I  ne  mote  algate4  saie 
Some  what  of  that  I  wolde  mene, 
For  ever  it  is  aliche  grene 
The  greate  love  which  I  have, 
Wherof  I  can  nought  bothe  save 
My  speche  and  this  obedience. 

1  Plenerlich,  fully,  wholly. 
a  Jiuis,  certainly. 

3  I  know  not  what  is  to  be  counselled. 

4  Algatc,  always. 


BOOK  L— PRIDE. 


And  thus  full  ofte  my  silence 
I  breke,  and  is  the  firste  point 
Wherof  that  I  am  out  of  point 
In  this,  and  yet  it  is  no  Pride. 

"  Now  than  upon  that  other  side 
To  tell  my  disobeisaunce, 
Full  sore  it  slant  to  my  grevaunce 
And  may  nought  sinke  into  my  wit. 
Full  ofte  time  she  me  bit l 
To  leven  her  and  chese  a  newe  ; 
And  saith,  if  I  the  sothe  knewe 
How  fer  I  stondd  from  her  grace, 
I  shulde  love  in  other  place. 
But  therof  wol  I  disobeie, 
For  also  wel  she  mighte*  saie 
'  Go  take  the  mone  there  it  sit,' 
As  bringe  that  into  my  wit. 
For  there  was  never  rooted  tree 
That  stood  so  faste  in  his  degree, 
That  I  ne  stonde  more  faste 
Upon  her  love,  and  may  nought 

caste 

Min  herte  awey  all  though  I  wolde. 
For  God  wote  though  I  never  sholde 
Sene  her  with  eye  after  this  daie, 
Yet  stant  it  so,  that  I  ne  maie 
Her  love  out  of  my  brest  remue.' 
This  is  a  wonder  retenue, 
That  malgre  where-  she  woll  or 

none 

Min  herte  is  evcrmo  in  one, 
So  that  I  can  none  other  chese, 
But  whether  that  I  winne  or  lese 
I  must  her  loven  till  I  deie  ; 
And  thus  I  breke,  as  by  that  weic, 
H  cr  hestes  and  her  commaundf  ngcs. 
But  trulich  in  none  other  thinges. 
Forthy  my  fader,  what  is  more 
Touchende  unto  this  ilke"  lore 
I  you  beseche,  after  the  forme 
That  ye  pleinly  me  wolde  enformc, 
So  that  I  may  min  herte  reule 
In  Loves  cause  after  the  reule." 

l  Hit,  prays. 

•'  Wticre*  whether. 


Murmur  ami  Complaint. 

^oroavt)  this  Vice  of  which  we 

trete 
There    ben    yet    tweie    of    thilke 

estrete,1 
Her 2  name  is  Murmur  and  Com- 

.  pleinte. 

Ther  can  no  man  her  chere  peinte 
To  sette  a  glad  semblaunt  ther- 

inne  : 
For   though    Fortune    make    hem 

winne, 

Yet  grucchen  they  ;  and  if  they  lese 
There  is  no  waie  for  to  chese 
Wherof  they  mighten  stonde  ap- 

pesed. 

So  ben  they  comunly  disesed, 
There  may  no  welth  ne  no  poucrtc 
Attempren  hem  to  the  cleserte  3 
Of  buxomnesse  by  no  wise. 
For  ofte'  time"  they  despise 
The  goodd  fortune  as  the  badde, 
As  they  no  manne's  reson  hadde, 
Through    Pride    wherof    they    be 

blinde. 

And  right  of  such  a  maner  kinde 
Ther  be  lovers,  that  though  they 

have 

Of  love  all  that  they  wolde  crave, 
Yet   woll    they   grucche   by   some 

weie, 

That  they  wol  nought  to  love  obeic 
Upon  the  trouth,  as  they  do  sholde. 
And  if  hem  lacketh  that  they  wolde, 
Anon  they  falle  in  such  a  peine, 
That  ever  unbuxomly  they  pleine 
Upon  Fortune  and  curse  and  crie, 
That  they  wol  nought  her  hertcs 

plie 

To  suffre,  till  it  better  falle. 
Forthy  if  thou  amonges  alle 

1  Ofthilkc  estrttC)  of  the  same  street,  ncijjh* 
bours. 
-  Her,  their.  3  Dcscric^  merit. 


68 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Hast  used  this  condicidn, 
My  sone,  in  thy  Confession 
Now  tell    me    pleinly   what    thou 
art."— 

"  My  fader,  I  beknowe 1  a  part 
So  as  ye  tolden  here  above 
Of  Murmur  and  Compleint  of  Love; 
That  for  I  se  no  spede  comende, 
Ayein  Fortune  compleignende 
I  am,  as  who  saith,  evermo 
And  eke  full  ofte  time  also. 
Whan  so  as  that  I  se  or  here 
Of  hevy  word  or  hevy  chere 
Of  my  lady,  I  grucche  anone, 
But  wordes  dare  I  speke  none 
Wherof  she  mighte  be  displesed. 
But  in  min  herte  I  am  disesed 
With  many  a  Murmur  god  it  wote, 
Thus  drinke  I  in  min  owne  swote.2 
And  though  I  make  no  semblaunt, 
Min  herte  is  all  disobeisaunt, 
And  in  this  wise  I  me  confesse 
Of  that  ye  clepe  Unbuxomnesse. 
Now   telleth   what   your    counseil 
is."— 

"  My  sone,  as  I  thee  rede  this, 
What  so  befall  of  other  weie, 
That  thou  to  loves  hest  obeie 
Als  fer  as  thou  it  might  suffise. 
For  ofte  sith  3  in  such  a  wise 
Obedience  in  love  availeth, 
Where   all    a    mannes    strengthe 

faileth  : 

Wherof  if  that  thee  list  to  wit, 
In  a  cronique  as  it  is  writ 
A  great  ensample  thou  might  finde, 
Which  now  come  is  into  my  minde. 

f  I)erc  was  whilom  by  daies  olde 
A  worthy  knight,  and  as  men  tolde 
He  was  neveu  to  themperour 
And  of  his  court  a  oourtedurr 
Wifeles  he  was,  Florent  he  hight, 
He  was  a  man  that  mochel  might. 

1  Bektunve,  confos.  -  Swote.  sweat. 

a  Ofte  sit/i,  oftentimes. 


Of  armes  he  was  desirous, 
Chivcilerous  and  amorous, 
And  for  the  fame  of  worldes  speche 
Straunge  aventures  for  to  seche 
He  rode  the  marches  all  aboute. 
And  fell  a  time,  as  he  was  oute, 
Fortune,  which  may  every  threcle 
To-breke1  and   knitte  of  mannes 

spede,2 

Shope,  as  this  knight  rode  in  a  pas, 
That  he  by  strengthe  taken  was, 
And  to  a  castell  they  him  ladde, 
Where  that  he  fewe  frendes  hadde. 
For  so  it  fell  that  ilke  stounde, 
That  he  hath  with  a  dedly  wounde, 
Fightend,  his  owne  hondes  slain 
Branchus,  whiche  to  the  Capitain 
Was  sone  and  heire,  wherof  ben 

wrothe 

The  fader  and  the  moder  bothe. 
That  knight  Branchus  was  of  his 

honde 

The  worthiest  of  all  his  londe, 
And  fain  theywoldehdovengeaunce 
Upon  Florent,  but  remembraunce 
That  they  toke  of  his  worthinesse, 
Of  knighthode  and  of  gentilesse, 
And  how  he  stood  of  cousinage 
To  themperour,  made  hem  assuage, 
And  dorste  nought  slaine  him  for 

fere. 

In  great  desputeson  they  were 
Among  hern  selfe,  that3  was  the 

best. 

There  was  a  lady,  the  sliest 
Of  alle  that  men  knewen  tho, 
So  olde  she  might  unnethes  go, 
And  was  grauntdame  to  the  dede. 
And  she  with  that  began  to  rede  4 
And  saide  hem  she  wol  bring  him 

inne, 
That  she  shal  him  to'dethe  whine 


e)  break  up  altogether.     T 
intensive  prefix. 
-  Spcdc,  prosperity. 
y  What.  *  Rede,  counsel. 


BOOK  I.-PRIDE. 


69 


All  only  of  his  owne  graunt 
Through  strength  of  verray  covc- 

naunt 1 

Withoute  blame  of  any  wight. 
Anone  she  sendt?  for  this  knight 
And  of  her  sone  she  alleide  - 
The   deth,    and   thus  to  him  she 

saide : 
'  Florent,  how  so  ever  thou  be  to 

wite  :} 

Of  Branchus  deth,  men  shal  respite 
As  now  to  take  vengement, 
Be  so  thou  stonde  in  jugement 
Upon  certein  condicidn, 
That  thou  unto  a  question 
Which  I  shall  axe  shait  answere. 
And  over  this  thou  shalt  eke  swere, 
That  if  thou  of  the  sothe  faile, 
There  shal  non  other  thinge  availe, 
That  thou  ne  shalt  thy  deth  receive ; 
And  for  men  shal  thee  nought  de 
ceive 

That  thou  therof  might  ben  avised, 
Thou    shalt   have    day    and    time 

assised 

And  leve  saufly  for  to  wende, 
Be  so  that  at  thy  daies  ende 
Thou  come  ayein  with  thin  avise.' 
This  knight,  which  worthy  was  and 

wise, 

This  lady  praieth,  that  he  may  wit 
And  have  it  under  scales  writ, 
What  question  it  sholde  be 
For  which  he  shall  in  that  degre 
Stonde  of  his  life  in  jeopartie. 
With  that  she  feigneth  compaignie 
And    saith  :   « Florent,    on  love   it 

hongeth 

All  that  to  min  axinge  longeth  : — 
What  alle  women  most  desire — 
This  woll  I  axe,  and  in  thempire 
Where    thou    hast    moste*    kno\v- 

leching 

1  I'erray  covenannt,  a  tnie  agreement. 

-  Alleide,  alleged.         a  To  wite,  to  blame. 


I  Take  counseil  of  this  axinge.' 
Florent  this  thing  hath  undertake  ; 
The  day  was  set  and  time*  take ; 
Under  his  scale  he  wrote  his  othe 
In  such  a  wise,  and  forth  he  gothe 
Home  to  his  ernes  J  courte  ayein, 
To  whom  his  aventiire  plein 
He  tolde,  of  that  is  him  befalle. 
And  upon  that  they  weren  alle 
The  wisest  of  the  londe  assent, 
But  netheles  of  one  assent 
They  mighte  nought  accorde  plat, 
One  saide  this,  an  other  that ; 
After  the  disposition 
Of  natural  complexion 
To  some  woman  it  is  plesaiince 
That  to  another  is  grevaiince, 
But  suche  a  thinge  in  speciall 
\Vhiche  to  hem  alle  in  generall 
Is  most  plesaunt  and  most  desired 
Above    all    other   and   most  con 
spired, 
Suche  o  -  thing  connd  they  nought 

finde 

By  constellation  ne  kinde/' 
And  thus  Florent  withoute  cure 
Mot  stonde  upon  his  aventiire 
And  is  al  shape  unto  the  lere,4 
And  in  defaulte  of  his  answere 
This  knight  hath  lever  for  to  deie 
Than  breke  his  trouth,  and  for  to  lie 
In  place  where  he  was  swore, 
And  shapeth  him  gone  ayein  5  ther- 

fore. 

"Whan  time  camhe  toke  his  leve 
That  lenger  wolde  he  nought  be- 

le've  u 
And  praieth  his  erne  he  be  nought 

wroth, 
For  that  is  a  point  of  his  oth, 

1  Enie,  uncle.  2  O,  one. 

3  Kind,  nature. 

4  Lere,  learning  (finding  the  answer  to  the 
question). 

a  Makes  himself  ready  to  go  back  agaiu. 
8  pclevc,  remain. 


7o 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


He  saith,  that  no  man  shal   him 

wreke,1 

Though  afterward  men  here  speke 
That  he  peraventure  deie. 
And  thus  he  wente  forth  his  \veie 
Alone  as  a  knight  aventurous 
And  in  his  thought  was  curious 
To  wittd  what  was  best  to  do. 
And  as  he  rode  alone  so 
And  cam  nigh  there  he  wolde  be, 
In  a  forest  there  under  a  tree 
He  sigh  2  where  sat  a  creature, 
A  lothly  womannissh  figure, 
That  for  to  speke  of  flesshe  and 

bone 

So  foule  yet  sigh  he  never  none. 
This  knight  behelde  her  redily, 
And  as  he  wolde  have  passed  by 
She  cleped  him  and  bad  abide. 
And  he  his  hors  heved  3  aside 
Tho  4  torned  and  to  her  he  rode 
And  there  he  hoved  5  and  abode 
To  witte*  °  what  she  wolde  mene. 
And  she  began  him  to  bemene  " 
And  saide  :  '  Florent,  by  thy  name 
Thou  hast  on  hond£  such  a  game 
That  but  thou  be  the  better  avised 
Thy  deth  is  shapen  and  devised, 
That  al  the  world  ne  may  thee  save, 
But  if8  that  thou  my  counseil  have.' 
Florent  whan  he  this  tale  herde, 
Unto  this  olde  wight  answerde 
And  of  her  counseil  he  her  praide. 
And  she  ayein  to  him  thus  saide  : 
*  Florent,  if  I  for  thee  so  shape, 
That   thou  through  me  thy  deth 

escape 

And  take  worship  of  thy  dede, 
What  shall  I  have  to  my  mede  ?  ' 
4  What  thing,'  quod  he,  '  that  thou 

wolde  axe.' 


1   Wreke,  avenge.  ~  Si^7t,  sa\v. 

*  Hevfd,  head.  4  T/io,  then. 

'•  Hovfd,  waited.  6  TO  -wittc,  to  know. 

'  Beinene,  bemoan.  8  ^lit  ^  uniess> 


'  I  bid  never  a  better  taxc,' 

Quod  she,    'but  first,  or  thou  be 

sped, 

Thou  shalt  me  leve  suche  a  wed  1 
That   I    woll   have   thy  trouth  on 

honde, 

That  thou  shalt  be  min  husebonde.' 
'  Nay,'   saith   Florent,    '  that   may 

nought  be.' 
'  Ride  thanne  forth  thy  way,'  quod 

she, 

'  And  if  thou  go  withoute  rede, 
Thou  shalt  be  sekerliche  dede.' 
Florent  behight  2  her  good  inough 
Of  londe,    of  rent,    of  parke,    of 

plough, 

But  all  that  compteth  she  at  nought. 
Tho    fell    this    knight    in    mochel 

thought, 
Now  goth  he   forth,  now   cometh 

ayein, 

He  wot  nought  what  is  best  to  sain, 
And  thought  as  he  rode  to  and  fro, 
That  chesehe  moteone  of  the  two — 
Or  for  to  take  her  to  his  wife 
Or  elles  for  to  lese  his  life. 
And  than  he  caste  his  avauntage, 
That  she  was  of  so  great  an  age 
That  she  may  live  but  a  while, 
And  thought  to  put  her  in  an  ile 
Where    that    no    man  her  shulde 

knowe 

Til  she  with  deth  were  overthrowe. 
And  thus  this  yonge  lusty  knight 
Unto  this  olde  lothly  wight 
Tho    said :    '  If  that    none    other 

chaunce 

May  make  my  deliverannce 
But  only  thilke  same  speche 
Which  as  thou  saist  thou  shalt  me 

teche, 
Have  here  min  honde,  I  shal  thee 

wedde.' 

i    Ured,  pledge. 

'-'  Bchi£ht,  promised. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


Ami    thus   his  tronth    he  Icith    to 

wedde. 
With   that  she   frounceth   up    the 

browe  : 

'  This  covenaunt  woll  I  allowe,' 
She  saith,  'if  any  other  tiling 
But  that  thou  hast  of  my  teching 
Fro  deth  thy  body  may  respite, 
I  woll  thee  of  thy  trouth  acquite, 
And  elles  by  none  other  waie. 
Xo\v  herken  me  what  I  shall  saie  : 
Whan  thou  art   come  into  the 

place, 
Where    now    they    maken    great 

mandce 

And  upon  thy  coming  abide, 
They  vvol  anone  the  same  tide 
Oppose  thee  of  thine  answere. 
I  wot  thou  wolt  no  thing  forbere 
Of  that  thou  wenest  be  thy  beste, 
And  if  thou  might  so  finde  reste 
Wei  is,  for  than  is  ther  no  more. 
And  ellds  this  shall  be  my  lore, 
That  thou  shalt  saie  :  —  Upon  this 

Molde 

That  alle  Women  levest  wolde 
Be  Soverein  of  Mannes  Love  : — 
For  what  woman  is  so  above 
She  hath,  as  who  saith,  all  her  wille, 
And  elles  may  she  nought  fulfille 
What  thinge  her  were  levest  have. 
With  this  answere  thou  shalt  save 
Thy  self,  and  other  wise  nought. 
And    whan    thou    hast    thy    ende 

wrought, 
Come  here  ayein,   thou   shalt  me 

finde, 

And  let  nothfnge  out  of  thy  minde. ' 
He  goth  him  forth  with  hevy  chere, 
As  he  that  not l  in  what  manere 
He  may  this  worldes  joie  atteigne  : 
For  if  he  deie  he  hath  a  peine  ; 
And  if  he  live  he  mote  him  binde 
To  suche  one  which  of  alle  kinde 

1  Not,  knows  not. 


Of  women  is  the  unsemlieste. 
Thus  wot  he  nought  what   is  the 

beste. 

Iftit  be  him  lief  or  be  him  loth 
Unto  the  castel  forth  he  goth 
His  full  answerd  for  to  yive 
Or  for  to  deie  or  for  to  live. 
Forth  with  his  counseil  came  the 

lorde, 

The  thinges  stoden  of  recorde, 
He  send  up  for  the  lady  sone, 
And  forth  she  cam  that  oldc  mone.1 
In  presence  of  the  remenaunt 
The  strengthe  of  all  the  covenaunt 
Tho  was  rehersed  openly, 
And  to  Florent  she  bad  forth y 
That  he  shall  tellen  his  avise 
As  he  that  wot  what  is  the  prise. 
Plorent  saith  all  that  ever  he  couth, 
But  such  word  cam  ther  none  to 

mouth, 

That  he  for  yefte  or  for  beheste 
Might  any  wise  his  deth  areste. 
And  thus  he  tarieth  longe  and  late, 
Til  that  this  lady  bad  algate 
That  he  shall  for  the  dome  fimill 
Yef 2  his  answere  in  speciall 
Of  that  she  had  him  first  opposed. 
And  than  he  hath  truly  supposed, 
That  he  him  may  of  nothing  yelpe,^ 
But  if  so  by  tho  wordes  helpe 
Which   as   the   woman    hath  him 

taught, 

Wherof  he  hath  an  hoptf  caught 
That  he  shall  be  excusdd  so, 
And  tolde  out  plein  his  willd  tho. 
And  whan  that  this  matrons'  herde 
The   maner  how  this   knight  an- 

swerde, 

She  said:  'Ha,treson!  Wo  thee  be 
That  hast  thus  tolde  the  privetd, 
Whiche  alle*  women  most  desire  ! 
I  woldd  that  thou  were  afire  ! ' 

1  Mane,  wicked  one,  hag. 
-  J  'if,  give.  3  Yclpc,  boast. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  netheles  in  suche  a  plite 
Florent  of  his  an s were  is  quite. 
And  tho  began  his  sorwe  nevve, 
For  he  mot  gone  or  ben  untrcwe 
To  hire*  which  his  trouthe  hadde. 
But  he,  which  alld  shame  draclde, 
Goth  forth  in  stede  of  his  penaunce 
And    taketh    the    fortune    of   his 

chaunce 

As  he  that  was  with  trouth  aftaited.1 
This  olde  wight  him  hath  awaited 
In  place'  where  as  he  her  lefte. 
Florent  his  wofull  hed  up  lifte 
And  sigh  this  vecke2  where  that 

she  syt, 

Which  was  the  lothlieste  wyght, 
That  ever  man  cast  on  his  eye. 
Her  nasd  bass,3  her  browes  high, 
Her  eyen  smal  and  depe  set, 
Her  chekes  ben  with  teres  wet 
And  rivelin  4  as  an  empty  skin 
Hangend  down  unto  the  chin, 
Her  lippes  shrunken  ben  for  age, 
There  was  no  grace  in  her  visage, 
Her  front  was  narwe,  her  lockes 

hore, 

She  loketh  forth  as  doth  a  more,5 
Her  necke  is  short,  her  shulders 

courbe, 
That   might    a    mannes    lust  dis- 

tourbe, 

Her  body  great  and  no  thing  small, 
And  shortly  to  descrive  her  all 
She  hath  no  lith  6  without  a  lack ; 
But  liche  unto  the  wolle  sack 
She  profreth  her  unto  this  knight 
And  bad  him,  as  he  hath  behight, 
So  as  she  hath  by  his  warrdnt, 
That  he  her  holde  covenaunt. 
And  by  the  bridell  she  him  seseth, 

1  With  trouth  affaited,  bound  to  truth 
only.  Goods  and  chattels  might  be  promised 
in  Old  French  '  pour  estre  et  demourer  affaiz 
et  ypothequez.' 

I'ecke,  old  woman.  3  Bass,  low. 

4  Rivelin,  wrinkled,  shrunk. 

5  Witch,  hag.  6  Lith,  limb. 


But  god   wot    how  that   she   him 

pleseth 

Of  suche  wordes  as  she  speketh  : 
Him  thenketh  wel  nigh  his  herte 

breketh 

For  sorwe  that  he  may  nought  fle 
But  if1  he  wolde  untrewe  be. 
Loke,  how  a  seke  man  for  his  hele 
Taketh  baldemoin  with  canele  - 
And    with    the   mirre    taketh    the 

sucre, 

Right  upon  such  a  maner  lucre 
Stant  Florent,  as  in  this  diete 
He    drinketh    the    bitter  with  the 

swete, 

He  medleth  sorwe  with  liking 
And  liveth  so  as  who  saith  dying. 
His  youthe  shall  be  cast  awey 
Upon  suche  one,  Avhich  as  the  wey 
Is  olde  and  lothly  overall. 
But  nede  he  mot  that  nede  shall 
He  wolde  algate  his  trouthe  holde 
As  every  knight  therto  is  holde 
What  hap  so  him  is  ever  befalle, 
Though  she  be  the  foulest  of  alle. 
Yet  to  thonour  of  womanhed 
Him  thought  he  shulde  taken  heed, 
So  that  for  pure  gentilesse 
As  he  her  couthe  best  adresse, 
In  ragges  as  she  was  to-tore 
He  set  her  on  his  hors  to-fore, 
And  forth  he  taketh  his  way  softe. 
No  wonder  though  he  siketh  3  ofte. 
But  as  an  oule  fleeth  by  nighte 
Out  of  all  other  briddes  sighte, 
Right  so  this  knight  on  daies  brode 
In  close  him  held,  and  shope  his 

rode 

On  nightes  time  till  the  tide 
That  he  come  there  he  wolde  abide, 
And  prively  withoute  noise 
He  bringeth  this  foule  greate  coise  4 

1  But  if,  unless. 

2  Baldemoin  iuith  canele,  gentian  with  cin 
namon. 

«»  Siketh,  sigheth.  4  Coise,  mistress. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


73 


To  his  castell  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  no  man  might  her  shape  avise, 
Til  she  into  the  chambre  came, 
Where  he  his  prive  counseil  name 
Of1  suche  men  as  he  most  truste 
And  told  hem,  that  he  nede's  muste 
This  beste  2  wedde  to  his  wife, 
For  elles  had  he  lost  his  life. 
The  prive*  women  were  assent  •"' 
That  sholden  ben  of  his  assent. 
Her  ragges  they  anone  of  drawe 
And  as  it  was  that  time  lawe 
She  hadde"  bath,  she  hadde'  rest, 
And  was  arraidd  to  the  best. 
But  with  no  craft  of  combes  brode 
They  might  her  hore  locke's  shode.4 
And  she  ne  wolde*  nought  be  shore 
For  no  counseil,  and  they  therfoie 
With  suche  attire  as  tho  was  used 
Ordeinen,5  that  it  was  excused 
And  had  so  craftilich  aboute 
Thatnoman  mighte"  seen  hemoute.6 
But  whan  she  was  fullich  arraied 
And  her  attire  was  all  assaied, 
Tho  was  she  fouler  unto  se. 
But  yet  it  may  non  other  be, 
They  were*  wedded  in  the  night ; 
So  wo  begone  was  never  knight 
As  he  was  than  of  maridge. 
And  she  began  to  pleie  and  rage 
As  who  saith,  I  am  well  inough  ; 
But  he  therof  nothing  ne  lough.7 
For  she  toke  thannd  chere  on  honde 
And  clepeth  him  her  husdbonde 
And  saith  :    'My  lord,  go  we  to 

bedde, 

For  I  to  that  entente"  wedde 
That  thou    shalt  be  my   worlde's 

blisse.' 

1  Took  private  counsel  with. 

-  This  beast. 

:t  Assent,  sent  to  her. 

4  Part  her  hoary  locks. 

5  Set  it  in  order. 

6  So  craftily  surrounded  with  the  customary 
headgear  that  OUT  could  see  any  grey  locks 
peep  out  of  it. 

"  Lough,  laughed. 


And  profreth  him  with  that  to  kisse, 
As  she  a  lusty  lady  were. 
His  body  mightc  well  be  there, 
But  as  of  thought  and  memorie 
His  hert  was  in  purgdtorie. 
But  yet  for  strengthe  of  matrimoine 
He  might e  make  non  essdine, 
That  he  ne  mote  algatds  plie 
To  gon  to  bed  of  compaignie. 
And  whan  they  were  a  bedde  naked 
Withoute  slepe  he  was  awaked, 
He  torneth  on  that  other  side 
For  that  he  wolde  his  eyen  hide 
Fro  loking  of  that  foule  wight. 
The  chamber  was  all  full  of  light, 
The    courtines    were    of    sendall 

thinne, 

This  newe*  bride  which  lay  withinne, 
Though    it    be    nought    with    his 

accorde, 

In  antic's  she  beclept  her  lorde 
And  praid,  as  he  was  torndd  fro 
He  wolde  him  torne  ayeinward  tho. 
'  For  now,'  she  saith,  '  we  be  both 

one.' 

But  he  lay  stille  as  any  stone, 
And  ever  in  one   she   spake   and 

praide 
And  bad  him  thenke  on  that  he 

saide, 

Whan  that  he  toke  her  by  the  honde. 
He  herd  and  understood  the  bonde, 
How  he  was  set  to  his  penaunce. 
And  as  it  were  a  man  in  traunce 
He  torneth  him  all  sodeinly 
And  sigh  a  lady  lay  him  by 
Of  eightene'  winter  age, 
Which  was  the  fairest  of  visage, 
That  ever  in  all  this  world  he  sigh. 
And  as  he  wolde  have  take  her 

nigh, 

She  put  her  hond,  and  by  his  leve 
Besought  him  that  he  wolde  leve, 
And  saith,  that  for  to  winne  or  lese 
He  mot  one  of  two  thinge's  chese, 


CONFESSIO  AM  AN  T  IS. 


Where  l  he  woll  have  her  such  on 

night 

Or  elles  upon  daies  light, 
For  he   shall  nought   have   bothd 

two. — 

And  he  began  to  sorwe  tho 
In    many    a    wise    and    caste   his 

thought, 

But  for  al  that  yet  couth  he  nought 
Devise  him  self  which  was  the  best. 
And  she  that  wolde  his  hertes  rest 
Praieth  that  he  shulde  chese  algate, 
Til  at  the  laste  longe  and  late 
He  saide  :  '  O,  ye  my  lives  hele, 
Say  what  ye  liste  in  my  quarele. 
I  not  2  what  answere  I  shall  yive, 
But  ever  while  that  I  may  live 
I  woll  that  ye  be  my  maistresse  ; 
For  I  can  nought  my  selfe  gesse 
Which  is  the  best  unto  my  chois, 
Thus  graunt  I  you  min  hole  vois, 
Chese  for  us  bothe,  I  you  praie, 
And  what  as  ever  that  ye  saie, 
Right  as  ye  wolle  so  woll  I.' 
'My  lord/  she  saide,  'graunt  mercy, 
For  of  this  word  that  ye  now  sain 
That  ye  have  made  me  Soverein 
My  destine  is  overpassed, 
That    never     hereafter     shall    be 

lassed  3 

My  beaute  which  that  I  now  have, 
Til  I  be  take  into  my  grave. 
Both  night  and  day  as  I  am  now 
I  shall  all  way  be  such  to  you. 
The  kinges  daughter  of  Cecile 
I  am ;  and  fell  but  sith  a  while,4 
As  I  was  with  my  fader  late, 
That  my  stepmoder  for  an  hate, 
Which  toward  me  shehathbegonne, 
Forshope  5  me,  till  I  hadde  wonne 
The  love  and  the  sovereinte 

1   Where,  whether. 
-  JYfft,  know  not. 
:!  Lassed,  lessened. 

4  Sit/i  a  while,  a  while  since. 

5  Forshope,  transformed. 


Of  what  knight  that  in  his  degre* 
All  other  passeth  of  good  name. 
And  as  men  sain  ye  ben  the  same 
The  dede  proveth  it  is  so  ; 
Thus  am  I  youres  evermo.' 
Tho  was  plesaunce  and  joie  inough, 
Echone  with  other  pleid  and  lough, 
They  live"  longe,  and  well  they  ferde, 
And  clerkes  that  this  channel  hercle 
They  writen  it  in  evidence 
To  teche  how  that  obedience 
May  well  fortune  a  man  to  love 
And  sei  him  in  his  luste  above, 
As  it  befell  unto  this  knight.! 
"  Forthy,  my  sone,  if  thou   do 

right, 

Thou  shalt  unto  thy  love  obeie 
And  folwe  her  will  by  alld  weie."  — 
'•Min  holy  fader,  so  I  will. 
For  ye  have  told  me  such  a  skill 
Of  this  ensample  now  to-fore, 
That  I  shall  evermo  therfore 
Here  afterward  min  observaunce 
To  love  and  to  his  obeissaunce 
The  better  kepe,  and  over  this  1 
Of  Pride  if  there  ought  die's  is 
Wherof  that  I  me  shrive  shall, 
What  thing  it  is  in  speciall, 
My  fader,  axeth,  I  you  pray."  — 
"Now  list,  my  sone,  and  I  shall  say. 
For  yet  there  is  Surquederie,2 
Which  stant   with   Pride  of  com- 

paignie, 

Wherof  that  thou  shalt  here  anone 
To    knowe    if  thou    have   gult    or 

none, 

Upon  the  forme  as  thou  shalt  here  ; 
Now  understond  well  the  matere. 

Surquederie. 


is  thilke  Vice 
Of  Pride"  which  the  third  office 

1  Over  this,  beyond  this. 
-  Surquederie,  presumption. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


75 


Hath  in  his  court  and  \vol  nought 

knowe 

The  trouthd  till  it  overthrowe. 
Upon  his  fortune  and  his  grace 
Cometh  had  1  li'ixf1  full  ofte  a  place, 
For  he  doth  all  his  thing  by  gesse 
And  voideth  alle"  sikernesse  ; 
Xone    other    counseil    good    him 

semeth 

But  such  as  he  him  selfe  demeth. 
For  in  such  wise  as  he  compdsseth 
His  wit  alone  all  other  passeth, 
And    is    with    Pride   so    thorough 

sought 

That  he  all  other  set  at  nought, 
And  weneth  of  him  selven  so  • 
That  such  as  he  there  be  no  mo 
So  fair,  so  semely,  ne  so  wise, 
And  thus  he  wolde*  beare  a  prise 
Above  all  other,  and  nought  forth y 
He  saith  nought  one's  graunt  mercy'-3 
To  God,  which  alld  grace"  sendeth, 
So  that  his  wine's  he  despendeth 
Upon  him  selfe,  as  though  there  were 
No  God  which  might  availd  there, 
But  all  upon  his  ownd  wit 
He  stant,  till  he  fall  in  the  pit 
So  fer  that  he  may  nought  arise. 

"  And  right  thus  in  the  same"  wise 
The  Vice  upon  the  cause  of  Love 
So  proudely  set  the  hert  above 
And  doth  him  pleinly  for  to  wene, 
That  he  to  loven  any  quene 
Hath  worthinesse  and  suffisaunce. 
And  so  withoutd  purveiaunce 
Full  ofte  he  heweth  up  so  highe, 
That  chippcs  fallen  in  his  eye  ; 
And  eke  full  ofte  he  weneth  this, 
There  as  he  nought  belove'd  is 

1  /fad  Iti'ist,  if  I  h.id  only  known.     "  Hnd- 
I  wist"  wasa  popular  phrase  for  the  repentance 
of  the  rash.     So  in  Spenser's  "Moti.er  Hub- 
bard's  Talc  "— 

"  Most  miserable  man,  whom  wicked  Fate 
Hath  brought  to  court,  to  sue  for  Hud-y- 
wist!" 

2  Graunt  mercy,  graraercy,  great  thanks  ! 


To  be  beloved  altherbesic. 
Now,  sone,  telle  what  so  thee  leste 
Of  this  that  I  have  told  thee  here."  — 
"  Ha  fader,  be  nought  in  a  were.1 
I  trowe  there  be  no  man  lesse 
Of  any  maner  worthinesse 
That  halt  him  lesse  worthy  than  I 
To  be  beloved,  and  nought  forthy 
I  say  in  excusing  of  me 
To  alle  men,  that  love  is  fre. 
And  certds  that  may  no  man  werne.2 
For  love  is  of  him  selfe  so  derne," 
It  luteth4  in  a  mannes  herte. 
But  that  ne  shall  me  nought  asterter> 
To  wend  for  to  be  worthy 
To  loven,  but  in  her  mercy. 
But  sir,  of  that  ye  woldd  mene. 
That  I  shulde  other  wisd  wene 
To  be  beloved  than  I  was, 
I  am  beknowe  as  in  this  cas.''- 
"  ^ty  gode  sond,  telle  me  how."  — 
<;  Now  list,  and  I  woll  telle  you, 
My  godd  fader,  how  it  is. 
Full  ofte  it  hath  befalle  er  this 
Through   hope",    that   was    nought 

certein, 

My  wening  hath  be  set  in  vein 
To  trust  in  thing   that  helpe  me 

nought 

But  onlich  of  min  owne  thought. 
For  as  it  semeth  that  a  beil 
Like  to  the  wordds  that  men  teli 
Answereth  right   so,  no   more  ne 

lesse, 

To  you,  my  fader,  I  confesse 
Such  will  my  wit  hath  over  set, 
That  what  so  hop<5  me  behet  ° 
Full  many  a  time  I  wene  it  soth, 
But  finally  no  spede  it  doth. 
Thus  may  I  tellen,  as  I  can, 
Wening  beguileth  many  a  man. 


1   ///  n  Ti-.vr,  in  confusion  or  doubt. 
'-'   It'erttt,  refu>e.  a  Dcrnc,  secret. 

4  Luteth,  lies  hidden. 

''  Drive  me  to  think  myself  worthy  of  love, 
but  through  her  mercy. 
H  Me  behet,  promises  me. 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


So  hath  it  me,  right  wel  I  wot, 
For  if  a  man  wol  in  a  bote 
Whiche  is  withoute  botme  rowe, 
He  must  nedes  be  overthrowe. 
Right  so  wening  hath  fard  by  me, 
For  whan  I  wende  next  have  be 
As  I  by  my  wening  caste, 
Than  was  I  furthest  atte  laste, 
And  as  a  fool  my  bowe  unbende 
Whan  all  was  failed  that  I  wende. 
Forth y,  my  fader,  as  of  this 
That  my  wening  hath  gone  amis 
Touchend  unto  surquederie, 
Yef  me  my  penaunce  or  I  die. 
But  if  ye  wolde  in  any  forme 
Of  this  mate'r  a  tale  enforme, 
Which  were  ayein  this  Vice"  set, 
I  shulde'  far£  well  the  bet."- 

"  ^Tj>  sone,  in  alle  maner  wise 
Surquederie  is  to  despise, 
Wherof  I  finde  write*  thus  : — 
The  proude  knight  Capaneus 
He  was  of  suche  surquederie, 
That  he  through  his  chivalerie 
Upon  him  self  so  mochel  triste,1 
That  to  the  goddes  him  ne  liste 
In  no  quarele"  to  beseche, 
But  saide  it  was  an  idel  speche 
Which  cause"  was  of  pure"  drede, 
For  lacke  of  hert  and  for  no  nede. 
And  upon  such  presumption 
He  held  this  proude  opinion, 
Till  atte'  laste  upon  a  day 
Aboute  Thebes,  where  he  lay, 
Whan  it  of  siege  was  belaine, 
This  knight,  as  the  crom'que's  saine, 
In  alle  manna's  sighte*  there, 
Whan  he  was  proudest  in  his  gere 
And   thought  how  nothing  might 

him  dere,2 
Full    armed  with  his    shield  and 

spere 

As  he  the  citd  wolde  assaile, 
Cod  toke  him  selfc  the  bataile 


3   Triste,  trusted. 


-  Dere,  hurt. 


Ayein  his  pride,  and  fro  the  sky 
A  firy  thonder  sodeinly 
He  sende  and  him  to  pouder  smote. 
And  thus  the  Pride,  which  was  hote 
Whan   he   most   in   his   strengthe 

wende, 

Was  brent  and  lost  withouten  ende. 
So  that  it  proveth  well  therfore 
The  strength  of  man  is  sond  lore,1 
But  if2  that  he  it  well  goveYne. 
And  over  this  a  man  may  lerne, 
That  eke  full  ofte'  time  it  greveth 
What  that  a  man  him  self  beleveth, 
As  though  it  shulde  him  well  beseme 
That  he  all  other  men  can  deme  :: 
And  hath  foryete  his  ownd  vice. 
A  tale  of  hem  that  be  so  nice 
And  feigne  hem  self  to  be  so  wise 
I  shall  thee  telle  in  suche  a  wise, 
Wherof  thou  shalt  ensample  take, 
That  thou  no  such  thing  undertake. 

§f  fittbe  upon  surquederie, 
How  that  whilom  of  Hungarie 
By  olde  daies  was  a  king 
Wise  and, honest  in  alle  thing. 
And  so  befell  upon  a  daie, 
And  that  was  in  the  month  of  May, 
As  thilke  time  it  was  usaunce, 
This  king  with  noble  purveiaunce 
Hathfor  him  selfehis  chare4  arraied, 
Wherin  he  wolde  ride  amaied  5 
Out  of  the  cite  for  to  pleie 
With  lorde's  and  with  great  nobleie 
Of  lusty  folk  that  were  yonge, 
Where  some  pleide  andsomesonge, 
And  some  gone  and  some'  ride, 
And  some  prick  her  horse  aside 
And  bridlen  hem  now  in  now  oute. 
The  kinge  his  eye  cast  aboute, 
Til  he  was  atte  laste  ware 
And  sigh  comend  ayein  his  chare 

1  Lore,  lost.  -  But  if,  unless. 

^  Deme,  judge.  •*  Chare,  chariot. 

5  Amatm,  a-Maying.  Professor  Skeat,  in 
explaining  this  peculiar  construction,  started 
from  the  phrase  in  "Piers  Plowman"  "they 
gon  a  begged  "  for  "  they  go  a  begging." 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


77 


Two  pilgrimes  of  so  great  age, 
That  lich  unto  a  drie  ymage 
They  weren  pale  and  fadd  hewed, 
And  as   a  busshe,  whiche   is  be- 

snewcd, 

Here  berd<5s  weren  hore  and  white, 
There  was  of  kindc  l  but  a  lite 
That  they  ne  semen  fully  dede. 
They  comen  to  the  king  and  bede  - 
Some  of  his  good,  pur  3  charitd. 
And  he  with  great  humilitd 
Out  of  his  chare  to  groundd  lepte 
And  hem  in  both  his  armes  kepte 
And  kist  hem  bothe  foot  and  honde 
Before  the  lordds  of  his  londe 
And  yaf  hem  of  his  good  therto. 
And  whan  he  hath  this  dedd  do 
He  goth  into  his  chare  ayeine. 
Tho4  was  murmur,  tho  was  dis- 

deine, 

Tho  was  compleinte  on  every  side, 
They  saiden  of  their  ownd  pride 
Echone  till  other,  '  What  is  this  ? 
Our  king  hath  do  this  thing  amis 
So  to  abesse  5  his  roialtd, 
That  every  man  it  mightd  se, 
And  humbled  him  in  such  a  wise 
To  hem  that  were  of  none  emprise.' 
Thus  was  it  spoken  to  and  fro 
Of  hem  that  werd  with  him  tho 
All  prively  behinde  his  backe. 
But  to  him  selfd  no  man  spake. 
The  kingds  brother  in  presence 
Was  thilke  time,  and  great  offence 
He  toke  therof  and  was  the  same 
Above  all  other  which  moste  blame 
Upon  his  legd  lord  hath  laid, 
And  hath  unto  the  lordds  said 
Anone  as  he  may  timd  finde, 
There  shall  nothing  be  left  behinde, 
That  he  wol  speke  unto  the  king. 
Now  list  what  fell  upon  this  thing. 


1  Of  kindc,  by  nature  lite,  little. 

-'  Bede,  pray.  «  Pur  (pour),  for. 

4  '/'/to,  then.  5  Abcsse,  abase. 


The    weder    was    merie   and    fair 

inough, 

Echone  with  other  pleid  and  lough 
And  fellen  into  tales  newe, 
How  that  the  fresshd  flourds  grewe, 
And  how  the  grend  leves  spronge, 
And    ho\v  that    love  amonge    the 

yonge 

Began  the  hertes  thanne  awake, 
And    every    brid    hath    chose  his 

make. 

And  thus  the  Maids  day  to  thende 
They  lede,  and  home  ayein  they 

wende. 

The  king  was  nought  so  sond  come, 
That    whan  he  had  his   chambre 

nome, 

His  brother  ne  was  redy  there 
And  brought  a  tale  unto  his  ere 
Of  that  he  diddd  such  a  shame 
In  hindring  of  his  ownd  name, 
Whan  he  him  selfd  woldd  dreche  l 
That  to  so  vile  a  pouer  wrecche 
Him  deignethshewd  such  simplesse 
Ayein  the  state  of  his  noblesse. 
And  saith,  he  shall  it  no  more  use 
And  that  he  mot  him  selfe  excuse 
Toward  his  lordds  everichone. 
The  king  stood  still  as  any  stone 
And  to  his  tale  an  ere  he  laide 
And  thoughte  mord  than  he  saide. 
But  netheles  to  that  he  herde 
\Vell  curteisly  the  king  answerde 
And  tolde,  it  shulde  ben  amended. 
And  thus  whan  that  here  tale   is 

ended, 

All  redy  was  the  bord  and  cloth, 
The  king  unto  his  souper  goth 
Among  the  lordds  to  the  halle. 
And  whan  they  haddd  souped  alle, 
They  token  leve  and  forth  they  go. 
The  king  bethought  him  selfd  tho, 
How  he  his  brother  may  chastie, 
That  he  through  his  surquederie 

t  trouble. 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


Toke  upon  honde  to  dispreise 
Humilitc,  which  is  to  preise, 
And  therupon  yaf  such  counseil 
Toward  his  king,  that  was  nought 

heil, 

Wherof  to  be  the  better  lered 
He  thenketh  to  make  him  afered. 
It  fell  so,  that  in  thilke  dawe  l 
There  was  ordeigned  by  the  lawe 
A  trompe  with  a  sterne  breth, 
Which  was  cleped  the  Trompe  of 

Deth. 
And  in  the  court  where  the  king 

was 

A  certein  man  this  trompe  of  brass 
Hath  in  kepfng  and  therof  serveth, 
That  whanalord  his  dethdeserveth, 
He  shall  this  dredfull  trompe  blowe 
To-fore  his  gate,  and  make  it  knowe 
How  that  the  jugement  is  yive 
Of  deth,  which  shall  nought  be 

foryive. 

The  king  whan  it  was  night  anone 
This  man  assent2  and  bad  him  gone 
To  trompen  at  his  brothers  gate. 
And  he,  which  mot  so  done  algatc, 
Goth  forth  and  doth  thekinge'shest. 
This  lord,  which  herde  of  this 

tempest 

That  he  to-fore  his  gate"  blewe, 
Tho  wist  he  by  the  lawe  and  knewe 
That  he  was  sekerliche  dede. 
And  as  of  helpe  he  wist  no  rede, 
But  sende  for  his  frendes  all 
And  tolde  hem  how  it  is  befalle. 
And  they  him  axe  cause  why, 
But  he  the  sortie*  nought  forth)' 
Ne  wist,  and  there  was  sorvve  tho. 
For  it  stood  thilke  time"  so, 
This  trompd  was  of  such  sentence, 
That  there  ayein  no  resistance 
They  couthe  ordeind  by  no  weie, 
That  he  ne  mot  algate*  deie, 
But  if  so  that  he  may  purchace 

1  Dawe,  day.  i  Assent,  sent  to. 


To  get  his  lege  lordes  grace. 
Here  witte*s  therupon  they  caste 
And  ben  appointed  atte  laste. 
This  lorde  a  worthy  lady  had 
Unto  his  wife,  whiche  also  drad 
Her  lordes  deth,  and  children  five 
Betwene  hem  two  they  had  alive, 
That  weren  yonge  and  tender  of  age 
And  of  stature  and  of  visage 
Right  faire  and  lusty  on  to  se. 
Tho  casten  they,  that  he  and  she 
Forth  with   their  children  on  the 

morwe, 

As  they  that  were  full  of  sorwe, 
All  naked  but  of  smock  and  sherte 
To  tendre  with  the  kinges  herte 
His  grace  shulden  go  to  seche 
And  pardon  of  the  deth  beseche. 
Thus  passen  they  that  wofull  night, 
And  erly  whan  they  sigh  it  light 
They  gone  hem  forth  in  suche  a  wise, 
As  thou  to-fore  hast  herd  divise, 
All  naked  but  here  shertcs  on 
They    wepte     and    made    mochel 

in  one. 

H  ere  hair  hangend  about  here  eres, 
With  sobbing  and  with  sory  teres 
This  lord  goth  than  an  humble  pas 
That  whilom  proud  and  noble  was, 
Wherof  the  cite*  sore  a  flight l 
Of  hem  that  sawen  thilke  sight. 
And  netheless  all  openly 
With  such  wepmg  and  with  such  cry 
Forth  with  his  children  and  his  wife 
He  goth  to  praie  for  his  life. 
Unto  the  court  whan  they  be  come 
And  men  therin  have  hede  nome, 
There  was  no  wight,  if  he  hem  sigh, 
From  water  mighte"  kepe  his  eye 
For  sorwe  which  they  maden  tho. 
The  king  supposeth  2  of  this  wo 
And  feigneth  as  he  nought  ne  wiste, 
But  nethe'les  at  his  upriste 

1  A  flight,  was  afflicted,  grieved. 
»  Supposeth,  makes  believe. 


BOOK  L— PRIDE. 


Men  tolden  him,  howe  that  it  ferde. 
And    whan    that    he    this   wonder 

herde, 

In  hast  he  goth  into  the  halle. 
And  all  .it  one's  down  they  falle, 
If  any  pit<5  may  be  founde. 
The  king,  which  seetli  hem  go  to 

grounde. 

Hath  axdd  hem  what  is  the  fere, 
Why  they  be  so  dispuiled  there. 
His  brother  said :  'Ha,  lord,  mercy ! 
I  wote  none  other  causd  why, 
But  only  that  this  night  full  late 
The  trompe  of  deth  was  at  my  gate 
In  token  that  I  shulde'  deie  ; 
Thus  we  be  comd  for  to  preie 
That  ye  my  worldds  deth  respite.' 
'Ha,  fool,  how  thou  art  for  to 

\vite,' l 

The  kinge  unto  his  brother  saith, 
4  That  thou  art  of  so  litel  feith, 
That  only  for  a  trompes  soun 
Hath  gone  dispuiled  through  the 

town 

Thou  and  thy  wife  in  such  manerc 
Forthwith  thy  children  that  ben  here 
In  sight  of  allc  men  aboute. 
For  that  thou   saist,    thou   art   in 

double  2 
Of  deth  which  standeth  under  the 

la  we 

Of  man,  and  man  it  may  withdrawe, 
So  that  it  may  perchaunce'  faile, 
Now  shalt  thou  nought  forthy"  mer- 

veile, 

That  I  down  from  my  chare  alight, 
Whan  I  beheld  to-fore  my  sight 
In  hem  that  were  of  so  great  age 
Min     owne*     deth     through     here 

ymdge, 
Which  God  hath  set  by  lawe  of 

kinde, 
Wherof  I  may  no  bote  3  finde. 

1  To  u>itf,  to  blame.  3  f)oubtet  fear. 

a  Botf,  remedy. 


For  well  I  wot,  suche  as  they  be 
Right  suche  am  I  in  my  degrd, 
Of  flesshe  and  blood,  and  so  shall 

deie. 

And  thus  though  I  that  lawe  obeie 
Of  which  that  kingds  ben  put  under, 
It  ought  ben  well  the  lassd  wonder 
Than  thou,  which  art  withoutd  nede 
For  lawe  of  londe  in  suche  a  drede, 
Which  for  to  accompte  is  but  a  jape 
As  thing  which  thou  might  over- 
scape. 

Forthy,  my  brother,  after  this 
I  rede  that  sithen  it  so  is 
That  thou  canst  drede  a  man  so 

sore, 

Drede  God  with  all  thin  herte  more. 
For  all  shall  deie  and  all  shall  passe, 
As  well  a  Icon  as  an  asse, 
As  well  a  begger  as  a  lorde, 
Towardds  dethe  in  one  accorclc 
Theyshullen  stonde.'     And  in  this 

wise 

The  kingc  with  his  wordcs  wise 
His  brother  taught  and  all  foryive. 
Forthy,  my  sone,  if  thou  wolt  live 
In  Vertue,  thou  must  Vice  escheue 
And  with  lowe  herte  humblessd  sue, 
So  that   thou  be   nought   surque- 

dous.:' — 

"  My  fader,  I  am  amorous, 
Wherof  I  wolde  you  beseche 
That  ye  me  some  ensample  techc, 
Which     might     in     Love's     cause 

stonde." — 
"My    sond,    thou    shalt   uncler- 

stonde 

In  Love  and  other  thingds  alle. 
If  that  surquederie  falle, 
It  may  to  him  nought  well  betide 
Which  useth  thilke  Vice  of  Pride, 
Which  torneth  wisdom  to  waning 
And  sothfastnesse  into  lesing 
Through  foil  imagination. 
And  for  thin  dnformation, 


8o 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  thou  this  Vice  as  I  thee  rede 
Escheue'  shalte,  a  tale  I  rede, 
Which  fell  whilom  by  dale's  olde, 
So  as  the  clerke  Ovide  tolde. 

whilom    a    lordes 


sone, 

Which  of  his  Pride  a  nice  wone  l 
Hath  caught,   that  worthy  to  his 

liche2 

To  sechen  all  the  worldes  riche 
There  was  no  woman  for  to  love. 
So  high  he  set  him  selfe  above 
Of  stature  and  of  beaute*  bothe, 
That  him  thought  alle  women  lothe. 
So  was  there  no  comparison 
As  towarde  his  condition. 
This  yonge  lord  Narcizus  hight. 
No  strength  of  Love  bowd  might 
His  herte,  whiche  is  unaffiled.* 
But  atte  laste  he  was  beguiled. 
For  of  the  goddes  purveiaunce 
It  felle  him  on  a  day  perchaunce, 
That  he  in  all  his  proude  fare 
Unto  the  forest  gan  to  fare 
Amonge  other,  that  there  were, 
To  hunten  and  disporte  him  there. 
And  whan  he  cam  into  the  place, 
Where  that  he   wolde   make  his 

chace, 

The  houndes  weren  in  a  throwc 
Uncoupled  and  the  homes  blowe, 
The  grete  herte  anone  was  founde 
With  swifte  feet  set  on  the  grounde. 
And  he  with  spore  in  horse*  side 
Him  hasteth  faste  for  to  ride, 
Till  alle  men  be  left  behinde. 
And  as  he  rode  under  a  linde 
Beside  a  roche,  as  I  thee  telle, 
He   sigh   where   spronge   a   lusty 

welle. 

The  day  was  wonder  hote  withalle, 
And  suche  a  thurst   was  on  him 

falle, 

1  Wone,  custom.  3  Lichc,  body. 

3  Unaffiltdt  attached  to  no  one. 


That  he  must  outher  deie  or  drinke. 
And  downe  he  light  and  by  the 

brinke 

He  tide  his  hors  unto  a  braunche 
And  laid  him  lowe  for  to  staunche 
His  thurst.  And  as  he  cast  his 

loke 

Into  the  welle  and  hede  toke, 
He  sigh  the  like  of  his  visage 
And  wende  there  were  an  ymage 
Of  suche  a  nimphe,  as  tho  was  say,1 
Wherof  that  love  his  herte  assay 
Began,  as  it  was  after  sene 
Of  his  sotie2  and  made  him  wene 
It  were  a  woman,  that  he  sigh.^ 
The  more  he  cam  the  welle  nigh, 
The  nere  cam  she  to  him  ayein, 
So  wist  he  never  what  to  sain  ; 
For  whan  he  wepte  he  sigh  her 

wepe, 
And  whan  he  cried  he  toke  good 

kepe, 

The  same  -worde  she  cried  also  ; 
And  thus  began  the  newe  wo, 
That  whilom  was  to  him  sostraunge. 
Tho    made    him    Love    an    harde 

eschaunge 

To  set  his  herte  and  to  beginne 
Thing  whiche  he  might  never  winne. 
And  ever  amonge  he  gan  to  loute,4 
And  praith  that  she  to  him  come 

oute. 

And  other  while  he  goth  afer 
And  other  while  he  draweth  ner 
And  ever  he  founde  her  in  one  place. 
He   wepeth,    he   crieth,    he    axeth 

grace, 

There  as  he  mighte  gete  none. 
So  that  ayein  a  roche  of  stone, 
As  he  that  knewe  none  other  rede, 
He   smote  him    self    til   he    was 

dede. 


1   Tho  was  say,  then  was  seen. 
-  Sotie,  folly.  3  Sigh, 

4  Loute,  bow. 


saw. 


BOOK  L— PRIDE. 


8r 


Wherof  the  nimphes  of  the  wellos 
And  other  that  there  weren  elles 
Unto  the  wode's  belongdnde 
The  body,  which  was  dede  ligende, 
For  pure"  pile*  that  they  have 
Under  grave*  they  begrave.1 
And  than  out  of  his  sepulture 
There  spronge  anone  peniventure 
Of  flourds  suche  a  wonder  sight, 
That  men  ensample  takd  might 
Upon  the  dedds  whiche  he  dede. 
And  tho  was  sene  in  thilkd  stede, 
For  in  the  winter  fressh  and  faire 
The  flourds  ben,  whiche  is  contraire 
To  kinde,  and  so  was  the  folie 
Which  felle  of  his  Surquederie. 

"  Thus  he  which  Love  had  in 

disdeigne, 

Worst  of  all  other  was  beseine, 
And  as  he  set  his  prise  most  hie, 
He  was  lest  worthy  in  Lovds  eye 
And  most  bejapdd  in  his  wit, 
Wherof  the  remembraunce  is  yit ; 
So  that  thou  might  ensample  take, 
And  eke  all  other,  for  his  sake.'"' — 

"  My  fader,  as  touchdnd  of  me 
This  Vice  I  thenkd  for  to  fle, 
Whiche  of  his  wening  overthroweth 
And    namdlich2    of   thing    which 

groweth 

In  Lovds  cause  or  well  or  wo, 
Yet  prided  I  me  never  so. 
But  woldd  God  that  gracd  sende, 
That  toward  me  my  lady  wende 
As  I  towardds  hird  wene, 
My  lovd  shuldd  so  be  sene 
There  shuldd  go  no  Pride  a  place. 
But  I  am  fer  fro  thilkd  grace 
And  for  to  speke  of  time  nowe 
So  mote  I  suflfre  and  praid  you 
That  ye  woll  axe  on  other  side, 
If  there  be  any  point  of  Pride 
Wherof     it     nedeth     me     to    be 
shrive." — 

1  Btgrarf,  bury.        -  Nawelich,  especially. 


"  My  sond,  God  it  thee  foryive. 
If  thou  have  any  thing  misdo 
Touchend  of  this,  but  evermo 
Ther  is  another  yet  of  Pride 
Which    couthe   never    his    wordds 

hide, 

That  he  ne  wold  him  selfe  avaunt. 
There  may  nothing  his  tungd  daunt, 
That  he  ne  clappeth  as  a  belle, 
Wherof  if  thou  wolt  that  I  telle 
It  is  behovely  for  to  here, 
So  that  thou  might  thy  tungd  stere 
Toward  the  worlde  and  stonde  in 

grace, 

W7hich  lacketh  ofte  in  many  a  place 
To  him  that  can  nought  sittd  stille, 
Whiche  ellds  shuld  have  all  his 

wille 

Boasting. 

iCfje  trice  clepdd  Avauntdnce  * 
With  Pride  hath  take  his  dcquein- 

tdnce, 

So  that  his  ownd  prise  he  lasseth 
Whan  he  such  mesure  overpasseth, 
That  he  his  ownd  herald  is. 
That  first  was  wel  is  thannd  mis, 
That    was    thankworthy    is    than 

blame, 

And  thus  the  worship  of  his  name 
Through  pride  of  his  avauntarie 
He  torneth  into  vilenie. 
I  rede,  how  that  this  proudd  Vice 
Hath  thilkd  wind  in  his  office 
Which  through  the  blastds  that  he 

bloweth 

The  mannds  fame  he  overthroweth 
Of  vertue  which  shulde  ellds 

springe 

Unto  the  worldds  knoulechinge. 
But  he  fordoth  it  all  to  sore, 
And  right  of  such  a  maner  lore 
There  ben  lovdrs  ;  forthy  if  thou 
Art  one  of  hem,  tell  and  say  how, 

1  Avanntdnce ,  vaunting,  boasting. 
F 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Whan  thou  hast  taken  any  thinge 
Of  lovds  yefte  or  ouche  l  or  ringe, 
Or  toke  upon  thee  for  the  colde 
Some  goodly  word  that  thee  was 

tolde 

Of  frendly  chere  or  token  or  letter, 
Wherof  thin  herte  was  the  better, 
Of  that  she  sendd  thee  gretinge, 
Hast  thou  for  pride  of  thy  likingc 
Made  thin  avaunt  where  as  thee 

Kste?"— 

"  I  wolde,  fader,  that  ye  wiste 
My  conscience"  lith  not  here. 
Yet  had  I  never  such  matere, 
Wherof  min  hertd  might  amende, 
Nought  of  so  mochel  as  she  sende 
By  mouth  and  saide,  'grete  him 

wel1 

And  thus  for  that  there  is  no  dele 
Wherof  to  make"  min  avaunt, 
It  is  to  reson  accordaunt, 
That  I  may  never,  but  I  lie, 
Of  lovd  make  avauntarie. 
Iwote  nought  what  Ishulde  have  do 
If  that  I  had  encheson  so 
As  ye  have  said  here  many  one  ; 
But  I  found  causd'  never  none, 
But    Daunger   which  me   welnigh 

slough. 

Therof  I  couthd  telle  inough 
And  of  none  other  avauntaunce. 
Thus  nedeth  me  no  repentaunce. 
Now  axeth  further  of  my  life, 
For  herof  am  I  nought  gultife.'' — 
"  My  sone,  I  am  wel  paidwithall. 
For  wite  it  wel  in  speciall, 
That  love  of  his  verray  justice 
Above  all  other  ayein  this  Vice 
At  alld  time's  most  debateth 
With  all  his  hert  and  most  it  hateth. 
And  eke  in  alld  maner  wise 
Avauntarie  is  to  despise, 
As  by  ensample  thou  might  wite, 
Whiche  I  finde  in  the  boko's  write. 

1  Ouche,  jewel  in  its  setting. 


Of  hem  that  we  Lombdrdes  now 

calle 

Albinus  was  the  firste  of  alle 
Which  bare  crowne  of  Lombardie, 
And  was  of  great  chivalerie 
In  werre  ayeinst  divers  kinges. 
So  felle  it  amonge  other  thinges 
That  he  that  time  a  werrd  had 
With  Gurmund  which  the  Geptes 

lad,1 

And  was  a  mightie  kinge  also. 
But  nethdles  it  fell  him  so 
Albinus  slough  him  in  the  felde, 
Ther  halpe  him  nouther  spere  ne 

shelde, 
That  he   ne   smote   his   heved  of 

thanne, 

Wherof  he  toke  awey  the  panne, 
Of  whiche  he  saide  he  woldd  make 
A  cuppe  for  Gurmundds  sake 
To  kepe  and  drawe  into  memoire 
Of  his  bataild  the  victoire. 
And  thus  when  he  the  felde  had 

wonne, 

The  londe  anon  was  overronne 
And  sesdd  in  his  ownd  honde  ; 
Where  he  Gurmundds  doughter 

fonde, 

Which  maide  Rosemundd  hight, 
And  was  in  every  mannds  sight 
A  fair,  a  fressh,  a  lusty  one. 
His  hertd  fell  to  her  anone, 
And  suche  a  love  on  her  he  cast, 
That  he  her  wedded  attd  last. 
And  after  that  long  time  in  restc 
With  her  he  dwelleth,  and  to  the 

beste 

They  love  eche  other  wonder  wele. 
But    she   that    kepeth   the   blindd 

whele, 

Venus,  when  they  be  most  above 
In  all  the  hottest  of  her  love, 
Her  whele  she  torneth  :  and  they 

felle 

1  Latt,  led. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


In  the  mandr,  as  I  shall  telle. 
This  kins  which  stood  in  all  his 

welth 

Of  pees,  of  worship  and  of  helth, 
And  felt  him  on  no  sidd  greved 
As  he  that  hath  his  worlde  acheved, 
Tho  thought  he  wolde  a  festd  make 
And  that  was  for  his  wivds  sake, 
That  she  the  lordds  attd  feste, 
That  were  obeisaunt  to  his  heste, 
May  knowe.     And  so  forth  there 

upon 

He  lette  ordeigne  and  send  anon 
By  letters  and  by  messengers 
And  warndd  all  his  officers, 
That  every  thing  be  well  arraied, 
The  greatd  stedds  were  assaied 
For  justinge  and  for  tornement, 
And  many  a  perldd  garndment 
Embrouded  was  ayein  the  day. 
The  lordds  in  her  beste  array 
Be  comen  at  the  timd  set ; 
One  justeth  well,  an  other  bet, 
And  other  whild  they  torney  ; 
And  thus  they  casten  care  awey 
And  token  lustds  upon  honde. 
And  after  thou  shalt  understondc 
To  mete  into  the  kingds  halle 
They  comen,  as  they  be  bidden  alle. 
And  whan  they  werd  set  and  served 
Than  after,  as  it  was  deserved 
To  hem  that  worthy  knightds  were, 
So  as  they  setten  here  and  there, 
The  prise  was  yove  and  spoken  out 
Among  the  heralds  all  about. 
And  thus  benethe  and  eke  above 
All  was  of  armds  and  of  love, 
Wherof  abouten  attd  bordes 
Men  had  many  sondry  wordes, 
That  of  the  mirthd  which  they  made 
The  kinge  him  self  began  to  glade 
Within  his  hert  and  toke  a  Pride 
And  sigh  the  cuppd  stonde  aside, 
Which  made  was  of  Gurmundds 

bed. 


As  ye  have  herd,  when  he  was  ded, 
And  was  with  golde  and  richd  stones 
Beset  and  boundd  for  the  nones, 
And  stode  upon  a  fote  on  highte 
Of  burndd   golde,  and  with  great 

slighte 

Of  werkmenship  it  was  begrave 
Of  such  worke  as  it  shuldd  have 
And  was  polissdd  eke  so  clene 
That  no  signe  of  the  scull  was  sene 
But  as  it  were  a  gripds  l  eye. 
The  king  bad  bere  his  cuppe  awey 
Which  stood  before  h  im  on  the  bord e 
And  fettd  thilke.-     Upon  his  worde 
The  sculle  is  fette  and  wine  ther- 

inne, 

Wherof  he  bad  his  wife  beginne  : 
'  Drink  with  thy  fader,  dame,'  he 

said. 

And  she  to  his  bidding  obeid 
And  toke  the  sculle,  and  whather list 
She  drank,  as  she  which  nothing  wist 
What  cup  it  was.    And  than  all  out 
The  kinge  in  audidnce  about 
Hath  tolde,  it  was  her  faders  sculle, 
So  that  the  lordds  knowd  shulle 
Of  his  bataile  a  soth  witndsse, 
And   made   avaunt   through   what 

prowdsse 

He  hath  his  wivds  lovd  wonne, 
Whiche  of  the  sculle  hath  so  be- 

gonne. 

Tho  was  there  mochel  pride  alofte, 
They  spoken  all,  and  she  was  softe, 
Thenkend  on  thilke  unkindd  Pride, 
Of  that  her  lord,  so  nigh  her  side, 
Avaunteth  him  that  he  hath  slaine 
And  piked  out  her  faders  braine 
And  of  the  sculle  had  made  a  cuppe. 
She  suffreth  all  till  they  were  uppe. 
And  tho  she  hath  sekenessd  feigned 
And  goth  to  chambre  and  hath 

compleigned 

1  i, riffs,  eagle's. 

-  Fttte  thilkc,  fetch  that  one. 


84 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


Unto  a  maide  which  she  triste,1 
So  that  none  other  wight  it  wiste. 
This  maide"  Glodeside  is  hote, 
To  whom  this  lady  hath  behote  - 
Of  ladiship  all  that  she  can 
To  vengen  her  upon  this  man, 
Which  did  her  drink3  in  suche  a 

plite 

Among  hem  alle"  for  despite 
Of  her  and  of  her  fader  bothe, 
Wherof    her    thoughte"s    ben     so 

wrothe, 
She  saith,  that  she  shall  nought  be 

glad, 

Till  that  she  se  him  so  bestad 
That  he  no  more"  make  avaunt. 
And  thus  they  felle  in  covenaunt, 
That  they  accorden  atte"  laste 
With  suche"  wilds  as  they  caste, 
That  they  wol  get  of  here  accorde 
Some  orpe'd4  knight  toslethis  lorde. 
And  with  this  sleighte"  they  beginne, 
How  they  Helmege*  mighten  winne, 
Which  was  the  kinge"s  bottler, 
A  proude  and  lusty  bachiler, 
And  Glodeside  he  loveth  hote. 
And  she  to  make  him  more  assote  5 
Her  love*  graunteth,  and  by  nighte 
They    shape    how    they    to-gider 

mighte 

A  bedde"  mete.     And  done  it  was 
This  same*  night.     And  in  this  cas 
The    quene    her    self    the    night 

seconde 
Went  in  her  stede  and  there  she 

fonde 

A  chambre  derke'  without  light 
And  goth  to  beddd  to  this  knight. 
And  he  to  kepe  his  observaunce 
To  love"  doth  his  obeisaunce 
And  weneth  it  be  Glodeside. 
And  she  than  after  lay  a  side 

1  Triste,  trusted. 

2  Behote,  promised. 

3  Did  her  drink,  caused  her  to  drink. 

*  Or/>td,  bold.  5  Assote,  to  dote. 


And  axeth  him  what  he  hath  do, 
And  who  she  was  she  tolde  him  tho 
And  said:  'Helmege,  I  am  thy  quene, 
Now  shall  thy  love  well  be  sene 
Of  that  thou  hast  thy  wille*  wrought ; 
Or  it  shall  sore*  ben  abought, 
Or  thou  shalt  worche,  as  I  thee  saie. 
And  if  thou  wolt  by  suche  a  waie 
Do  my  plesaunce  and  holde  it  stille, 
For  ever  I  shall  ben  at  thy  wille 
Bothe  I  and  all  min  heritage.' 
Anone  the  wilde"  love's  rage, 
In  which  no  man  him  can  gove*rne, 
Hath  made  him  that  he  can  nought 

werne,1 

But  felle  all  hole  to  her  assent, 
And  thus  the  whele  is  all  miswent. 
The    which    Fortune    hath    upon 

honde. 

For  how  that  ever  it  after  stonde, 
They  shope  among  hem  such  a  wile 
The  king  was  ded  within  a  while. 
So  slily  came  it  nought  aboute, 
That  they  ne  ben  discovered  out, 
So  that  it  thought  hem  for  the  beste 
To  fle,  for  there"  was  no  reste. 
And  thus  the  tresor  of  the  kinge 
They   trusse,    and    mochel    other 

thinge, 

And  with  a  certaine  felaship 
They  fled  and  went  awey  by  ship 
And    helde    her  right   cours  from 

thenne 

Till  that  they  comen  to  Ravenne, 
Where  they  the  duke's  helpe"  sought. 
And  he,  so  as  they  him  besought, 
A  place"  graunteth  for  to  dwelle. 
But  after,  whan  he  herde"  telle 
Of  the  mane'r  how  they  have  do, 
The  duke  let  shape"  for  hem  so, 
That  of  a  poison  which  they  drunke 
They  hadden  that  they  have  be- 

swunke.2 

1  Werne,  refuse. 

2  Besiminke,  laboured  for. 


BOOA"  I.— PRIDE. 


And  all  this  made  Avaunt  of  Pride 
Good  is  therfore  a  man  to  hide 
His  owne  prise,  for  if  he  speke, 
He  may  lightly  his  thankd  breke. 
In  armds  lith  none  avaunta"nce 
To  him,  which  thenketh  his  name 

avaunce 

And  be  renomdd  of  his  dede. 
And  also  who  that  thenketh  tospede 
Of  Love  he  may  nought  himavaunte, 
For  what  man  thilkd  Vice'  haunte, 
His  purpose  shall  full  oftd  faile. 
In  armds  he  that  woll  travaile 
Or  ellds  Love's  grace  atteigne, 
His  lose  tunge  he  mot  restreigne, 
Whiche  bereth  of  his  hondur  the 

keie. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  in  alle  waie 
Take    right    good    hede   of    this 

matere." — 

"  I  thonke  you,  my  fader  dere, 
This  scole  is  of  a  gentil  lore. 
And  if  there  be  ought  elle's  more 
Of  Pridd  whiche  I  shall  escheue, 
Nowe  axeth  forth,  and  I  woll  sue  l 
What  thing,  that  ye  me  woll  en- 
forme." — 

"  My  sone,  yet  in  other  forme 
There  is  a  Vice  of  Prides  lore, 
Which  like  an  hawk  whan   he  will 

sore, 

Fleeth  up  on  high  in  his  delices 
After  the  likinge  of  his  vices 
And  woll  no  manne's  reson  knowe 
Till  he  down  falle  and  overthrowe. 
This  vice  Vaynglorie  is  hote, 
Wherof,  my  sone,  I  thee  behote 
To  trete  and  speke  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  thou  thee  might  better  avise. 

VTainglory. 

^i)C  proude  Vice  of  Veinglorie 
Remembreth  nought  of  purgatorie, 

1  Sutt  follow. 


His  worldds  joids  ben  so  grete, 
Him  thenketh  of  heven  no  beyete.1 
This  livds  pompe  is  all  his  pees, 
Yet  shall  he  deid  nethdles, 
And  therof  thenketh  he  but  a  lite,2 
For  all  his  lust  is  to  delite 
In  newd  thingds,  proude  and  veine, 
Als  ferforth  as  he  may  atteine. 
I  trowe,  if  that  he  mightd  make 
His  body  newe,  he  woldd  take 
A  newd  forme  and  leve  his  olde. 
For  what  thing  that  he  may  beholde 
The  which  to  comun  use  is  straunge, 
Anone  his  olde  guise  chaunge 
He  woll,  and  falle  therupon 
Lich  unto  the  camelidn, 
Whiche  upon  every  sondry  hewe 
That  he  beholt  he  motd  newe 
His  colour ;  and  thus  unavised 
Ful  oftd  time  he  stant  desguised. 
More  jolif  than  the  brid  in  Maie, 
He  maketh  him  ever  fressh  and  gaie 
And  doth  all  his  array  desguise, 
So  that  of  him  the  newd  guise 
Of  lusty  folke  all  other  take. 
And  eke  he  can  carollds  make, 
Roundel,  baldde  and  virdlay. 
And  with  all  this,  if  that  he  may 
Of  lovd  gete  him  avauntage 
Anone  he  wext  of  his  cordge 
So  over  glad,  that  of  his  ende 
He    thenketh    there    is    no    deth 

comdnde. 
For  he  hath  than  at  alld  tide 
Of  lovd  such  a  maner  Pride, 
Him  thenketh  his  joy  is  enddles. 
"  Now    shrive    thee,    sone,    in 

Goddds  pees 
And  of  thy  lovd  tell  me  plein, 
f   that    thy    glorie    hath    be    so 

vayne." — 

"  My  fader,  as  touchdnd  of  all 
may  nought  well  ne  nought  ne 
shall 

1  Btycte,  gain.        -  Lite,  little. 


86 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  vayn  glorie  excuse  me, 
That  I  ne  have  for  love  be 
The  better  addressed  and  arraied. 
And  also  I  have  ofte  assaied 
Roundel,  baldde  and  virelay 
For  her  on  whom  min  herte*  lay, 
To  make  and  also  for  to  peinte 
Carolled  with  my  wordes  queinte 
To  settd  my  purpos  alofte. 
And  thus  I  sang  hem  forth  full  ofte 
In  halle  and  eke  in  chambre  aboute 
And  made  merie  among  the  route  : 
But  yet  ne  ferde  I  nought  the  bet. 
Thus  was  my  glorie  in  vayn  beset 
Of  all  the  joie  that  I  made. 
For  when  I  wolde  with  her  glade 
And  of  her  love  songes  make, 
She  saide,  it  was  nought  for  her 

sake, 

And  liste  nought  my  songes  here, 
Ne  witen  what  the  wordes  were. 
So  for  to  speke  of  min  array 
Yet  couth  I  never  be  so  gay 
Ne  so  well  make  a  songe  of  love, 
Wherof  I  mighte  ben  above 
And  have  encheson1  to  be  glad. 
But  rather  I  am  ofte  adrad 
For  sorwe,  that  she  saith  me  nay. 
And  nethe'les  I  woll  nought  say, 
That  I  nam  glad  on  other  side 
For  fame'  that  can  nothing  hide. 
All  day  woll  bringe  unto  min  ere 
Of  that  men  speken  here  and  there, 
How  that  my  lady  berth  the  prise, 
How  she  is  faire,  how  she  is  wise, 
How  she  is  womanlich  of  chere. 
Of  all  this  thing  whan  I  may  here, 
What  wonder  is  though  I  be  fain. 
And  eke  whan  I  may  here  sain 
Tidmgds  of  my  ladis  hele, 
All  though  I  may  nought  with  her 

dele, 

Yet  am  I  wonder  glad  of  that. 
For  whan  I  wote  her  good  estate, 

1  EnchcsQii,  occasion. 


As  for  that  time  I  dare  well  svverc, 
None  other  sorwc  may  me  dere. 
Thus  am  I  gladed  in  this  wise. 
But,  fader,  of  your  lore's  wise, 
Of  whiche  ye  be  fully  taught, 
Now  tell  me  if  ye  thenketh  ought, 
That  I  therof  am  for  to  wite."1 — 
"  Of  that  there  is,  I  thee  acquite, 
My  sone,"  he  saide,  "and  for  thy 

good 

I  wolle  that  thou  understood, 
For  I  thenke  upon  this  matere 
To  tell  a  tale,  as  thou  shalt  here, 
How  that  ayein  this  proudd  Vice 
The  highe  God  of  his  justice 
Is   wrothe   and  great  vengeauncc 

doth. 

Nowe  herken  a  tale,  that  is  soth, 
Though    it    be    nought   of    Loves 

kinde. 

A  great  ensample  thou  shalt  findc 
This  Veinglorie'  for  to  fle, 
Whiche  is  so  full  of  vanite. 

'i^crc  waz  a  king,  that  mochel 

might, 

Which  Nabugodonosor  hight, 
Of  whom  that  I  spake  here  to-fore. 
Yet  in  the  bible  this  name  is  bore, 
For  all  the  worlde  in  thorient 
Was  hole  at  his  commaunde'ment, 
As  than  of  kinges  to  his  liche 
Was  none  so  mighty  ne  so  riche, 
To  his  empire  and  to  his  lawes 
As  who  saith  all  in  thilke'  dawes 
Were  obeisaunt  and  tribute  bere, 
As  though  he  god  of  erthd  were. 
With    strengthe    he    putte"    kinge* 

under 
And    wrought    of    Pride    many    a 

wonder, 

He  was  so  full  of  Veinglorie, 
That  he  ne  hadde  no  memorie, 
That  there  was  any  God  but  he 
For  pride  of  his  prosperite. 

1  To  ivitc,  to  blame. 


BOOK  L— PRIDE. 


Till  that  the  highc  King  of  Kinges, 
Which    sccth    and   knoweth    alle 

thinges, 

Whose  eye*  may  nothfnge  asterte 
The  privetds  of  mannds  herle,1 
They  speke  and  sounen  in  his  ere 
As  though  they  loude  windds  were, 
He  tokd  vengeaunce  of  his  Pride. 
But  for  he  wolde  a  while  abide 
To  loke  if  he  wolde  him  amende, 
To  him  afore  token  he  sende. 
And  that  was  in  his  slepe  by  night 
This  proudd  kin.^e  a  wonder  sight 
Had  in  his  sweven  2  there  he  lay. 
Him  thought  upon  a  mery  day, 
As  he  beheld  the  world  aboute, 
A  tre  full  growe  he  sigh3  there  oute 
Which  stood   the   world  amiddds 

even, 
Whos  heightd  straught  up  to  the 

heven. 

The  levds  weren  faire  and  large, 
Of  fruit  it  bore  so  ripe  a  charge, 
That  alle  men  it  mightd  fede. 
He  sigh  also  the  bowcs  sprede 
Above  all  erth,  in  whichd  were 
The  kinde  of  alld  briddes  there. 
And  eke  him  thought  he  sigh  also 
The  kinde  of  alle  bestds  go 
Under  the  tre  abouten  round 
And  fedden  hem  upon  the  ground. 
As  he  this  wonder  stood  and  sigh, 
Him  thought  he  herdeavois  on  high 
Criende,  and  saide  aboven  alle  : 
1  Hewe  down  this  tree  and  let  it  falle, 
The  levds  let  defoule  in  haste 
And  do  the  fruit  destruie and  waste; 
And  let  ofshreden  every  braunche, 
But  attd  roote  be  let  it  staunche. 
Whan    all   his    Pride    is    cast   to 

grounde 
The  rootd  shall  be  fastd  bounde  ; 

1  From  whose  eye  the  secrets  of  man's  heart 
may  in  no  wise  escape. 
-  S-:i't":>fn,  dream. 
3  Sig/t,  sa\v. 


And  shall  no  mannes  hertd  bere, 
I  Jut  every  lust  he  shall  forbere 
Of  man,  and  lich  an  oxe  his  mete 
Of  gras  he  shall  purchace  and  etc, 
Till  al  the  waters  of  the  heven 
Have  wasshen  him  by  timds  seven, 
So    that    he     be    through  -knowe 

aright 

What  is  the  hevenliche  might, 
And  be  made  humble  to  the  wille 
Of  Him  which  may  all  save  and 

spille.' 
This  king  out  of  his  sweven  ab- 

raide  l 

And  he  upon  the  morwe  it  saide 
Unto  the  clerkes  which  he  hadde. 
But  none  of  hem  the  soth  araddc. 
Was  none  his  sweven  couth  undo. 
And  it  stood  thilkd  time"  so, 
This  kinge  had  in  subjection 
Judee  and  of  affection 
Above  al  other  one  Daniel 
He  loveth,  for  he  couthd  well 
Divind  that  none  other  couthe. 
To  him  were  alle  thingds  couthe, 
As  he  it  hadde  of  Goddes  grace. 
He  was  before  the  kinges  face 
Assent  and  bode  2  that  he  shuldc 
Upon  the  point  the  kinge  of  tolde  J 
The    fortune    of   his    sweven    ex- 

pounde, 

As  it  shulde  afterward  be  founde. 
Whan  Daniel  this  sweven  herde, 
He  stood  long  time,  er  he  answdrdc, 
And  made  a  wonder  hevy  chere.4 
The  king  toke  hede  of  his  manere 
And  bad  him  telle  that  he  wiste 
As  he  to  whome  he  mochel  triste/ 
And    said,    he    woldd   nought    be 

wroth. 
But  Danidl  was  wonder  loth 


1  Awoke  suddenly  from  his  dream. 
-  Sent  for  and  commanded. 

3  Of  told ft  told  of. 

4  Hevy  cJu-re,  sad  face. 

5  Tristc,  trusted. 


88 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  said  :  '  Upon  thy  fomen  alle, 
Sir  king,  thy  sweven  mote  falle. 
And  netheles  touchend  of  this 
I  woll  thee  tellen  howe  it  is, 
And  what  disese  is  to  thee  shape, 
God  wote  if  thou  it  shall  escape. 
The  highe  tre  which  thou  hast  sein, 
With  lef  and  fruit  so  wel  besein, 
The    which    stood    in    the    world 

amiddes, 

So  that  the  bestes  and  the  briddes 
Governed  were  of  him  alone, 
Sir  King,  betokeneth  thy  persdne 
Which    stonde    above    all   erthely 

thinges. 

Thus  regnen  under  thee  the  kinges 
And  all  the  people  unto  thee  louteth1 
And  all  the  worlde  thy  person 

douteth,2 

So  that  with  vein  honour  deceived 
Thou  hast  the  reverence  weived3 
Fro  him  whiche  is  thy  kinge  above, 
That  thou  for  drede  ne  for  love 
Wolt  nothing  knowen  of  this  God, 
Which  now  for  thee  hath  made  a 

rod, 

Thy  Vaynglorie  and  thy  folie 
With  grete  peines  to  chastie. 
And  of  the  vois  thou  herdest  speke, 
Which  bad  the  bowes  for  to  breke 
And  hewe  and  felle  down  the  tre, 
That  word  belongeth  unto  thee. 
Thy  regne  shall  be  overthrowe, 
And  thou  despuiled  for  a  throwe.4 
But  that  the  roote  shulde  stonde, 
By  that  thou  shalt  wel  understonde, 
There  shall  abiden  of  thy  regne 
A  time  ayein  whan  thou  shall  regne. 
And  eke  of  that  thou  herdest  saie 
To  take  a  mannes  hert  aweie 
And  sette  there  a  bestiall, 
So  that  he  lich  an  oxe  shall 

1  Louteth,  bows. 
^  Douteth,  fears. 

3  Weived,  put  aside. 

4  Throwe,  space  of  time. 


[  Pasture,  and  that  he  be  bereined 
By  times  seven  and  sore  peined, 
Till  that  he  knowe  his  Goddes 

mightes, 

Than  shall  hestond  ayein  uprightes. 
All  this  betokeneth  thine  estate, 
Which  now  with  God  is  in  debate  : 
Thy  mannes  forme  shall  be  lassed, 
Till  seven  yere  ben  overpassed, 
And  in  the  likenesse  of  a  beste 
Of  gras  shall  be  thy  roiall  feste, 
The  weder  shall  upon  thee  rayne. 
And  understonde,  that  all  this  payne 
Which  thou  shalt  suffre  thilke"  tide, 
Is  shape  all  only  for  thy  Pride 
Of  Vaynglorie  and  of  the  sinne 
Which  thou  hast  longe  stondeninne. 
So  upon  this  condicion 
Thy  sweven  hath  exposicion. 
But  er  this  thing  befalle  in  dede, 
Amende  thee,  this  wold  I  rede, 
Yif  and  departe  l  thin  alme'sse, 
Do  mercy  forth  with  rightwisne'sse, 
Beseche  and  praie  the  highe"  grace, 
For  so  thou  might  thy  pees  pur- 

chdce 
With  God  and  stonde  in  good  ac- 

corde.' 

But  Pride  is  loth  to  leve  his  lorde 
And  wol  nought  suffre  Humilite" 
With  him  to  stonde  in  no  degre*. 
And  whan  a  ship  hath  lost  his  stere, 
Is  none  so  wise  that  may  him  stere 
Ayein  the  wawe*s  in  a  rage. 
This  proude"  king  in  his  corage 
Humilitd  hath  so  forlore. 
That  for  no  sweven  he  sigh  to-fore 
Ne  yet  for  all  that  Daniel 
Him  hath  counselled  every  dele, 
He  let  it  passe  out  of  his  minde 
Through  Vaynglorie,  and    as    the 

blinde 

He  seth  no  weie  er  him  be  wo. 
And  fel  withinne  a  time  so, 

1  Departe,  divide,  distribute. 


BOOK  L— PRIDE. 


As  he  in  Babiloind  wentc, 

The  Vanitc  of  Pride  him  hcntc.1 

His  hert  arcs  of  vayn  glorie, 

So  that  he  drough  to  mcmorie 

His  lordship  and  his  regalie 

With  wordds  of  surquederie. 

And  whan  that  he  him  most  avaun- 

teth, 
That  Lord,  which  Vaynglorid  daun- 

teth, 

All  sodeinlich,  as  who  saith  treis,2 
Where  that  he  stood  in  his  paleis 
He  toke  him  fro  the  mennds  sight. 
Wasnone  of  hem  so  warethat  might 
Set  eyd  where  that  he  becom. 
And  thus  was  he  from  his  kingddm 
Into  the  wilde  forest  drawe, 
Where  that  the  mighty  Goddds  lawe 
Through  his  powdr  did  him  trans- 
forme 

Fro  man  into  a  bestds  forme. 
And  lich  an  oxe  under  the  fote 
He  graseth  as  he  nedds  mote 
To  geten  him  his  livds  fode. 
Tho    thought  him    colde    grasses 

goode, 

That  whilome  ete  the  hotd  spices, 
Thus  was  he  torndd  fro  delices. 
The  wine  which  he  was  wont  to 

drinke, 

He  toke  than  of  the  wellds  brinke 
Or  of  the  pit  or  of  the  slough, 
It  thought  him  thannd  good  inough. 
In  stede  of  chambres  well  arraied 
He  was  than  of  a  bussh  well  paied; 
The  hardd  ground  he  lay  upon, 
For  other  pilwds  had  he  non. 
The  stormes  and  the  reinds  fall, 
The  windds  blowe  upon  him  all, 
He  was  tormented  day  and  night. 
Such  was  the  highd  Goddes  might, 
Till  seven  yere  an  endd  toke. 
Upon  him  self  tho  gan  he  loke  : 

1  II  f  nte,  .sci/ed. 

-  An  ivho  scitk  treis,  in  ;i  trite. 


In  stede  of  metd  gras  and  streis  ; 
In  stede  of  handds  longe  cleis  j1 
In  stede  of  man  a  bestds  like  ;- 
He  sigh,:{  and  than  he  gan  to  sike  4 
For  cloth  of  golde  and  of  perrie.'' 
Which  him  was  wont  to  magnifie. 
When  he  beheld  his  cote  of  heres 
He  wepte  and  with  full  wofull  teres 
Up  to  the  heven  he  caste  his  chere0 
Wepdnd  and  thoughtinthismanere; 
Though  he  no  wordds  mightdwinne, 
Thus    said    his    hert   and   spake 

withinne  : 
'  O     mighty    God,    that    all    hast 

wrought 
And    all    might    bring    ayein    to 

nought, 

Now  knowe  I  wel  but  all  of  thee 
This  world  hath  no  prosperitd, 
In  thin  aspect  ben  alle  aliche 
The  pouer  man  and  eke  the  riche, 
Withoutd  thee  there  may  no  wight, 
And  thou  above  all  other  might. 

0  mighty  Lord,  toward  my  vice 
Thy  mercy  medle7  with  justice, 
And  I  woll  make  a  covenaunt 
That  of  my  life  the  remenaunt 

1  shall  it  by  thy  grace  amende 
And  in  thy  lawd  so  dispende, 
That  Vaynglorie  I  shall  escheue, 
And  bowe  unto  thin  heste,  and  sue 
Humilite,  and  that  I  vo\ve.' 

And  so   thenkend    he    gan  down 

bowe, 
And    though    him    lackc    vois    of 

speche, 

He  gan  up  with  his  fete  areche 
And  wailend  in  his  bestly  Steven  s 
He  made  his  plaint  unto  the  hevcn. 
He  kneleth  in  his  wise  and  braieth 
To  sechd  mercy  and  assaieth 

1  Cleis,  cla\v>.  -  Like,  Ixxly. 

:{  Xigh,  s;iu •.  •*  AVXr,  sigh. 

5  J'crrie,  precious  stones. 

(i  ( '//i-/v,  countenance. 

"  Mcdle,  mix,  join.  8  Steven,  voice. 


9° 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


His  God,  which  made  him  nothing 
straunge.1 

Whan    that    he    sigh    his    Pride" 

chaunge 

Anone  as  he  was  humble  and  tame 
He  found  toward  his  God  the  same, 
And  in  a  twinkeling  of  a  loke 
His  manne's  forme  ayein  he  toke 
And  was  reformed  to  the  regne 
In  whiche   that    he  was  wont    to 

regne, 

So  that  the  Pride  of  Vaynglorie 
Ever  after  out  of  memorie 
He    lett    it  passe.       And   thus   is 

shewed 

What  is  to  ben  of  Pride  unthewed  2 
Ayein  the  highe  Godde"s  lawe, 
To  whom  no  man  may  be  feldwe. 
"Forthy    my   sone,   take"    good 

hede 

So  for  to  lede'  thy  manhede, 
Thatthou  ne  be  nought  lich  a  beste. 
But  if  thy  life  shall  ben  hone'ste 
Thou    must   Humblesse    take    on 

honde, 

For  thanne  might thou  siker  stonde, 
And  for  to  speke  it  other  wise 
A  proud  man  can  no  love  assise.3 
For  though  a  woman  wolde   him 

plese, 

His  Pridd  can  nought  ben  at  ese. 
There  may  no  man  to  mochel blame 
A  Vied  which  is  for  to  blame. 
Forthy  men  shulden  nothing  hide 
That  mighte  fall  in  blame  of  Pride, 
Whiche  is  the  worste*  Vice  of  alle, 
Wherof  so  as  it  was  befalle 
The  tale  I  thenke  of  a  cronique 
To  telle,  if  that  it  may  thee  like, 
So  that  thou  might  Humblessd  sue 
And  eke  the  Vice  of  Pride  escheue, 

1  Showed  himself  no  whit  estranged — did 
not  turn  from  him. 

-  UntJiewed,  showing  want  of  discipline 
against  the  law  of  the  high  God  to  whom,  £c. 

a  Assise,  be  in  session  with. 


Wherof   the    glorie   is    false    and 

vaine, 
Which    God    him.     self    hath     in 

disdeine, 

That  though  it  mountd  forathrowe,1 

It  shall  down  falle  and  overthrowe. 

,31  Mug  whilom  was  yonge  and 

wise, 

The  which  set  of  his  wit  great  prise. 
Of  depe  ymaginatidns 
And  straunge  interpretations, 
Probleme"s  and  demaundes  eke 
His  wisedom  was  to  finde  and  seke, 
Wherof  he  wolde  in  sondry  wise 
Opposen  hem  that  weren  wise. 
But  none  of  hem  it  mighte  bere 
Upon  his  word  to  yive  answere 
Out    taken2    one,    which    was    a 

knight, 

To  him  was  every  thing  so  light, 
That  al  so  sone  as  he  hem  herde 
The  kinges  wordes  he  answerde, 
What  thing  the  king  him  axe  wolde, 
Whereof  anone  the  trouth  he  tolde. 
The  king  somdele  had  an  envie 
And  thought  he  wolde   his  wittes 

plie 

To  sete  some  conclusidn, 
Which  shulde  be  confusion 
Unto  this  knight,  so  that  the  name 
And  of  wisdom  the  highe  fame 
Toward  him  selfe  he  wolde  \vinne. 
And  thus  of  all  his  wit  withinne 
This  king  began  to  studie  and  muse 
What  straungd  mater  he  might  use 
The  knighte*s  wittes  to  confounde, 
And  atte"  last  he  hath  it  founde  : 
And  for  the  knight  anon  he  sente, 
That  he  shall  telle  what  he  mente. 
Upon  thre  points  stood  the  matere 
Of  questions  as  thou  shalte  here. 
"  The  firste  point  of  alle*  thre 
Was  this :  <  What  thing  in  his  degre 

1    Throwe,  space  of  time. 
-  Out  taken,  except. 


BOOK  I.— PRIDE. 


Of  all  this  world  hath  nede  lest 
And  yet  men  helpe  it  allthermest.'1 
The  seconde  is  :  '  What  moste 

is  worth 

And  of  costage  is  lest  put  forth.' 
The  thrid  is  :  '  Which  is  of  most 

cost 

And  lest  is  worth  and  goth  to  lost.3 
The  king   these  thre   demaundes 

axeth, 

To  the  knight  this  law  he  taxeth, 
That  he  shall  gone  and  comen  ayein 
Thethridddweke  and  tell  him  pleine 
To  every  point,  what  it  amounteth. 
And  if  so  be  that  he  miscounteth 
To  make  in  his  answere  a  faile, 
There    shall    none    other    thinge 

availe, 

The  king  saith,  but  he  shall  be  dedc 
And  lese  his  goodes  and  his  hedc. 
This  knight  was  sory  of  this  thinge 
And  wolde  excuse  him  to  the  kinge; 
But  he  ne  woldehim  nought  forbere, 
And  thus  the  knight  of  his  answere 
Goth  home  to  take  avisement. 
But  after  his  entendement 
The  more  he  cast  his  wit  aboute, 
The  more  he  stant  therof  in  double. 
Tho  wist  he  well  the  kinges  herte, 
That  he  the  deth  ne  shulde  asterte- 
And  suche  a  sorwe  to  him  hath  take, 
That  gladship  he  hath  all  forsake. 
He  thoughte  first  upon  his  life, 
And  after  that  upon  his  wife, 
Upon  his  children  eke  also, 
Of  whichd  he  had  doughteres  two. 
The  yongest  of  hem  had  of  age 
Fourtene  yere,  and  of  visage 
She  was  right  faire  and  of  stature 
Lich  to  an  hevenlich  figure, 
And  of  mandr  and  goodly  speche  ; 
Though    men    wolde   alle    londes 

seche, 

1  Alltheriitest,  most  of  all. 
-  Astcrtct  escape  from. 


They  shulden  nought  have  founde 

her  like. 

She  sigh  her  fader  sorwe  and  sike 
And  wistd  nought  the  causd  why. 
So  cam  she  to  him  prively 
And  that  was,  wher  he  made  his 

mone 

Within  a  gardin  all  him  one.1 
Upon  her  knees  she  gan  down  falle 
With  humble  herte  and  to  him  calle 
And  saide  :  *  O  goodd  fader  dere, 
Why  make*  ye  thus  hevy  chere 
And  I  wot  nothinge  how  it  is  ? 
And  well  ye  knowd,  fader,  this, 
What  aventurd  that  you  felle 
Ye  might  it  saufly  to  me  telle, 
For  I  have  ofic  herd  you  saide, 
That  ye  such  truste  have  on  me 

laide, 

That  to  my  suster  ne  to  my  brother 
In  all  this  worlde  ne  to  none  other 
Ye  durstd  telle  a  privetd 
So  well,  my  fader,  as  to  me. 
Forthy,-  my  fader,  I  you  praie 
Ne  casteth  nought  that  hert  awaie, 
For  I  am  she,  that  wolde  kepe 
Your  honour.'     And  with  that  to 

wepe 

Her  eyd  may  nought  be  forbore, 
She  wissheth  for  to  ben  unborc, 
Kr  that  her  fader  so  mistriste 
To  tellen  her  of  that  he  wiste. 
And  ever  among  'Mercy  '  she  cride, 
That    he   ne    shulde   his   counseil 

hide 

From  hire,  that  so  wolde  him  good 
And  was  so  nigh  in  flesshe  and 

blood. 

So  that,  with  weping,  atte  laste 
His  chere  3  upon  his  childe  he  caste 
And  sorwefully  to  that  she  praide 
He  tolde  his  tale  and  thus  he  saide  : 


1  All  hint  flttc,  by  himself  alone. 
a  Forthy,  therefore. 
3  CAcrc,  countenance. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


*  The    sorwe,    doughter,    which    I 

make 

Is  nought  all  only  for  my  sake, 
But  for  thee  bothe  and  for  you  alle. 
For  suche  a  chaunce  is  me  befalle, 
Tiiat  I  shall  er  this  thridde  day 
Lese  l  all  that  ever  I  lese  may, 
My  life  and  all  my  good  therto. 
Therfore  it  is  I  sorwe  so.' 

'  What  is  the  cause,  alas,'  quod 
she, 

*  My  fader,  that  ye  shulden  be 
Dedeand destruied  in  sucheawise  ? ' 
And  he  began  the  points  devise,2 
Which  as  the  king  tolde  him  by 

mouthe 

And  said  her  pleinly,  that  he  couthe 
Answeren  to  no  point  of  this. 
And  she,  that  hereth  howe  it  is, 
Her  counseil  yaf  and  saide  tho  :  3 
'  My  fader,  sithen  4  it  is  so, 
That  ye  can  se  none  other  weie, 
But  that  ye  must  nedes  deie, 
I  wolde  pray  you  of  o  thinge, — 
Let  me  go  with  you  to  the  kinge, 
And  ye   shall   make   him  under- 

stonde, 

How  ye,  my  wittes  for  to  fonde,5 
Have  laid  your  answere  upon  me, 
And  telleth  him  in  such  degre 
Upon  my  worde  ye  wol  abide 
To  life  or  deth  what  so  betide. 
For  yet  perchaunce  I  may  purchace 
With  some  good  word  the  kinges 

grace, 

Your  life  and  eke  your  good  to  save. 
For  oftd  shall  a  woman  have 
Thing  whiche  a  man  may  nought 

areche.6 

The  fader  herd  his  doughters  speche 
And  thought  there  was  no  reson  in, 
And  sigh  his  ownd  life  to  winne 


1  Lese,  lose. 
:{  Tho,  then. 
5  Fonde,  try. 


-  J)/'7>iset  relate. 
4  Sithen,  since. 
(i  Areche,  reach  to. 


He  couthe  done  him  self  no  cure. 
So  better  him  thought  in  aventure 
To  put  his  life  and  all  his  good, 
Than  in  the  maner  as  it  stood 
His  life  incertein  for  to  lese. 
And  thus  thenkend  he  gan  to  chese1 
To  do  the  counseil  of  his  maid 
And  toke  the  purpose,  which  she 

said. 
The  day  was  comen  and  forth  they 

gon, 

Unto  the  court  they  come  anon, 
Where  as  the  kinge  in  his  jugeme*nt 
Was  set,  and  hath  this  knight  assent. 
Arraie*d  in  her  beste  wise 
This  maiden  with  her  worde's  wise 
Her  fader  leddd  by  the  honde 
Into  the  place,  where  he  fonde 
The  king  with  other  which  he  woldc, 
And  to  the  king  knelend  he  tolde 
As  he  enformed  was  to-fore, 
And  praith  the  king,  that  he  ther- 

fore 

His  doughters  wordes  wolde  take, 
And  saith  that  he  woll  undertake 
Upon  her  worde's  for  to  stonde. 
Tho  was   ther  great  merveile  on 

honde, 

That  he,  which  was  so  wise  a  knight, 
His  life  upon  so  yonge  a  wight 
Besette*  wolde  in  jeopartie, 
And  many  it  helden  for  folie. 
But  at  the  lastd  netheles 
The    king    commaundeth    ben    in 

pees, 

And  to  this  maide  he  cast  his  chere 
And  saide,  he  wolde  her  tald  here, 
And  bad  her  speke,  and  she  began: 
'  My  leg£  lord,  so  as  I  can,' 
Quod   she,   'the  pointed  which   I 

herde, 

They  shull  of  reson  ben  answerde. 
The  first  I  understonde  is  this, 
What  thinge  of  all  the  worlde  it  is, 

1  Chese,  choose. 


BOOK  L— PRIDE. 


93 


Which  men  most  helpe  and  hath 

lest  nede. 

My  legd  lord,  this  wolde  I  rede 
The  erthe  it  is,  whiche  evermo 
With  mannds  labour  is  bego 
As  well  in  Winter  as  in  Maie. 
The  mannds  honde  doth  what  he 

may 

To  helpe  it  forth  and  make  it  riche, 
And  forthy  men  it  delve  and  diche 
And  eren1  it  with  strength  of 

plough, 

Wher  it  hath  of  him  self  inough 
So  that  his  nede  is  attd  leste. 
For  every  man  and  birde  and  beste 
Of  flour  and  gras  and  roote  and 

rinde 

And  every  thing  by  way  of  kinde 
Shall  sterve,2  and  erthe  it  shall  be 
come; 

As  it  was  out  of  erthd  nome 
It  shall  to  therthd  torne  ayein. 
And  thus  I  may  by  reson  sein 
That  erthe  is  mostd  neddles 
And  most  men  helpe  it  nethe'les, 
So  that,  my  lord,  touche'nd  of  this 
I  have  answerde  how  that  is. 

'  That  other  point  I  understood, 
Which  most  is  worth  and  most  is 

good 

And  costeth  lest  a  man  to  kepe, 
My  lorde,  if  ye  woll  take"  kepe, 
I  say  it  is  Humilite", 
Through  whichd  the  high  Trinite 
As  for  deserte  of  pure*  Love 
Unto  Marie*  from  above 
Ofthathekneweherhumbleentente 
His  ownd  sone  adown  he  sente. 
Above  all  other  and  3  her  he  chese 
For  that  vertu  which  bodeth  pees. 
So  that  I  may  by  reson  calle 
Humilite  most  vvorthe  of  alle, 

l  Eren,  till.  a  Stfrr-e,  die. 

3  And  he  chose  her  above  all  other.  "And  " 
used  in  the  middle  of  a  clause,  as  we  might 
now  use  "  also.'" 


And  lest  it  costeth  to  mainteinc 
In  all  the  worlde,  as  it  is  seine. 
For  who  that  hath  humblesse  on 

honde 

He  bringeth  no  werres  into  londe, 
For  he  desireth  for  the  best 
To  setten  every  man  in  reste. 
Thus  with  your  highe  reverence 
Me  thenketh  that  this  evidence 
As  to  this  point  is  suffisaunt. 
'And    touchend  of    the    reme- 

naiint, 
Whiche    is    the    thridde    of  your 

axinges, 

What  lest  is  worth  of  alle  thinges 
And  costeth  most,  I  telle  it  Pride, 
Which  may  nought  in  the  Heven 

abide. 

For  Lucifer  with  hem  that  felle 
Bar  Pride  with  him  into  helle. 
There  was  Pride  of  to  grete  cost, 
Whan   he  for   Pride  hath  Heven 

lost; 

And  after  that  in  paradise 
Adam  for  Pride  lost  his  prise 
In  middel-erth.     And  eke  also 
Pride  is  the  cause  of  alle  wo, 
That  all  the  world  ne  may  suffise 
To  staunche  of  Pride  the  reprise.1 
Pride  is  the  heved  -  of  all  sinne, 
Which  wasteth  all  and  may  nought 

winne. 

Pride  is  of  every  mis  :{  the  pricke, 
Pride  is  the  worste  of  alle  wicke, 
And  costeth  most  and  lest  is  worth 
In  place*  where  he  hath  his  forth. 
'That  have   I  said  that  I  woll 

say 

Of  min  answere  and  to  you  pray, 
My  lege  lorde,  of  your  office, 
That  ye  such  grace  and  suche  justice 
Ordeigne  for  my  fader  here, 
That  after  this  whan  men  it  here, 


1  Reprise,  reproach. 

3  Mitt  thing  amiss  ; 


,  head. 


g  amiss  ;  wrong. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  world  tberof  may  speke  good.' 
The  king,    which  reson    under 
stood 
And  hath  all  herde  how  she  hath 

said, 

Was  inly  glad  and  so  well  paid, 
That  all  his  wrath  is  over  go. 
And  he  began  to  loke  tho 
Upon  this  maiden  in  the  face, 
In  which  he  found  so  mochel  grace, 
That  all  his  prise  on  her  he  laide 
In  audience  and  thus  he  saide : 
*  My  faire  maide,  well  thee  be 
Of  thin  answere,  and  eke  of  thee 
Me  liketh  well,  and  as  thou  wilte 
Foryive  be  thy  faders  gilte. 
And  if  thou  were  of  such  lignage, 
That  thou  to  me  were  of  parage 
And  that  thy  fader  were  a  pere, 
As  he  is  now  a  bachelere, 
So  siker  as  I  have  a  life, 
Thou  sholdest  thanne  be  my  wife. 
But  this  I  saie  nethe'les, 
That  I  woll  shapd  thin  encrese, 
What  worlde's  good  that  thou  wolt 

crave 

Are  of  my  yift,  and  thou  shalt  have.' 
And  she  the  king  with  wordes 

wise 

Knelende  thonketh  in  this  wise  : 
'  My  lege  lord,  god  mot  you  quite.1 
My  fader  here  hath  but  a  lite 
Of  warison,2  and  that  he  wende 
Had  all  be  lost,  but  now  amende 
He  may  well  through  your  noble 

grace.' 
With  that  the  king  right  in  his 

place 

Anon  forth  in  that  fresshe"  hete 
An  erldome,  which  than  of  eschete 
Was  late*  falle  into  his  honde, 
Unto   this   knight,  with  rent  and 

londe, 

1  Qnite,  requite. 

-  Little  of  reward  for  service  done. 


Hath   yove   and   with   his  chartre 

sesed.1 

And  thus  was  all  the  noise  appesed. 
This  maiden,    which  sate  on    her 

knees 

To  fore  the  kinge's  chariteeSj 
Commendeth  and  saith  evermore  : 
'  My  lege  lord,  right  now  to-fore 
Ye  saide,  and  it  is  of  recorde, 
That  if  my  fader  were  a  lorde 
And  pere  unto  these  other  grete, 
Ye  wolden  for  nought  elles  lette, 
That  I  ne  sholde"  be  your  wife. 
And  thus  wote  every  worthy  life 
A  kinge's  worde  mot  nede  be  holde. 
Forthy  my  lord,  if  that  ye  wolde 
So  great  a  charite"  fulfille, 
God  wote  it  were*  well  my  wille. 
For  he,  which  was  a  bachelere, 
My  fader,  is  now  made  a  pere  ; 
So  whan  as  ever  that  I  cam, 
An  eric's  doughter  no  we  I  am.' 
"  This  yonge  king,  which  peised 

all 

Her  beaute  and  her  wit  withall, 
As  he  which  was  with  love  hente, 
Anone  therto  yaf  his  assente. 
He  mighte*  nought  the  place  asterte 
That  she  nis  lady  of  his  herte. 
So  that  he  toke  her  to  his  wife 
To  holde*  while  that  he  hath  life. 
And    thus    the    king    toward    his 

knight 

Accordeth  him  as  it  is  right. 
And  over  this,  good  is  to  wite  ~ 
In  the  cronique  as  it  is  write 
This  noble  kinge,  of  whom  I  tolcle, 
Of  Spaind  by  tho  dale's  olde 
The  kingdom  had  in  governaunce, 
And  as  the  boke  maketh  remem- 

braunce 

Alphonse'  was  his  propre  name. 
The  knight  also,  if  I  shall  name, 

1  Sesed,  "  seisin  "  (possession),  given. 
?  To  -wife,  to  know. 


ROOK  L— PRIDE. 


95 


Danz  Pctro  hight,  and  as  men  tclle 
His  dotighter  wisd  Petronelle 
Was  cleped,  which  was  full  of  grace. 
And  that  was  sene  in  thilke'  place, 
Where  she  her  fader  out  of  tene  1 
Hath  brought,  and  made  her  selfe 

a  quene, 

Of  that  she  hath  so  well  desclosed 

The  points  wherof  she  was  opposed. 

uLo  now,  my  sone,  as  thou  might 

here, 

Of  all  this  thing  to  my  matere 
But  one  I  take,  and  that  is  Pride, 
To  whom  no  grace*  may  betide. 
In  Heven  he  fell  out  of  his  stede, 
And  Paradise  him  was  forbede ; 
The  goode'  men  in  erthe  him  hate, 
So  that  to  helle  he  mote  algate, 
Where  every  Vertue  shall  be  wei  ved  2 
And  every  Vice*  be  resceived. 
But  Humblesse  is  all  other  wise, 
Which  most  is  worth,  and  no  re 
prise  3 

It  taketh  ayein,  but  softe  and  faire 
If  any  thing  stant  in  contraire 
With  humble  speche  it  is  redressed. 
Thus  was  this  yong£  maiden  blessed, 
The  whiche  I  spake  of  now  to-fore. 
Her  faders  life  she  gat  therfore 

1  Ttne,  anxious  grief. 
-  Wrive(t,  put  aside. 
8  Refrise,  reproach. 


And  wan  withall  the  kinges  love. 
Forthy  my  sone,  if  thou  wolt  love, 
It  sit  thee  well  to  leve'  Pride 
And  taken  Humblesse  on  thy  side, 
The    more    of   gracd    thou    shah 

gete." — 

"  My  fader,  I  woll  nought  foryete 
Of  this  that  ye  have  told  me  here, 
And  if  that  any  such  manere 
Of  humble  port  may  love  appaie, 
Here  afterwarde  I  thonke  assaie. 
But  now  forth  over  I  beseche, 
That     ye     more     of    my     shrifte 

seche." — 

"  My  gode  sone,  it  shall  be  do. 
Now  herken  and  lay  an  ere'  to, 
For  as  touche'nd  of  Pride's  fare 
Als  ferforth  as  I  can  declare 
In  cause  of  Vice,  in  cause  of  Love 
That  hast  thou  pleinly  herde  above, 
So  that  there  is  no  more  to  saie 
Touche'nd  of  that ;  but  other  waie 
Touchend  Envie  I  thenkd  telle, 
Whiche  hath  the  propre  kinde  of 

helle,1 

Withoute  cause'  to  misdo 
Toward  him  self  and  other  also ; 
Hereafter  ward  as  understonde 
Thou  shalt  the   spieces,2  as  they 

stonde. 

1  Which  hath  from  hell  its  proper  nature. 
'-'  Species,  classification  into  its  several  kind-. 


:Boofe  HE. 


OF  ENVY. 


)  after  Pridd  the  secounde 
There    is,    which    many    a 

wofull  stounde, 
Towardes  other  berth  aboute 
Within  him  self  and  nought  with- 

oute. 

For  in  his  thought  he  brenneth  ever,   j 
Whan  that  he  wote  an  other  lever1  ' 
Or  more  vertuos  than  he, 
Which  passeth  him  in  his  degre ; 
Therof  he  taketh  his  maladie. 
That  Vice  is  cleped  hot  Envie. 
Forthy,  my  sone,  if  it  be  so, 
Thou  art  or  hast  ben  one  of  tho,2 
As  for  to  speke  in  Loves  cas 
If  ever  yet  thin  herte'  was 
Seke  of  another  mannes  hele  ?  "  3 — 

"  So  god  avaunce  my  quarele, 
My  fader,  ye  4  a  thousand  sithe.        I 
Whan  I  have  sene  another  blithe 
Of  love  and  hadde  a  goodly  chere, 
Ethna,  which  brenneth  yere  by  yere, 
Was  thanne  nought  so  hote  as  I 
Of  thilke  sore  which  prively 
Mine  hertes  thought  withinne  bren 
neth. 
The    ship,    which    on    the   wawes 

renneth 
And  is  forstormed  and  forblowe,5 

1  Lever,  more  beloved. 
-  Tho,  those. 

3  Sick  of  another  man's  health. 

4  Ye,  yea. 

5  "  For  "  is  an  intensive  prefix. 


Is  nought  more  peinedfor  a  throwe1 
Than  I  am  thanne  whan  I  se 
Another  which  that  passeth  me 
In  that  fortune  of  Loves  yifte. 
But  fader,  this  I  telle  in  shrifte, 
That  is  no  where  but  in  o  place. 
For  who  that  lese  or  finde  grace 
In  other  stede,  it  may  nought  greve. 
But  this  ye  may  right  well  beleve, 
Toward  my  lady  that  I  serve, 
Though  that  I  wiste  for  to  sterve, 
Min  hert  is  full  of  such  foly, 
That  I  my  selfe  may  nought  chasty, 
Whan  I  the  Court  se  of  Cupfde 
Approche  unto  my  lady  side 
Of  hem  that  lusty  ben  and  fresshe, 
Though   it   availe   hem  nought   a 

resshe,2 

But  only  that  they  ben  of  speche, 
My  sorwe  is  than  nought  to  seche. 
But  whan  they  rounen  3  in  her  ere, 
Than  groweth  all  my  moste  fere. 
And    namely 4    whan     they    talen 

longe, 

My  sorwes  thanne  be  so  stronge, 
Of  that  I  see  hem  well  at  ese 
I  can  nought  telle  my  disese. 
But,  sire,  as  of  my  lady  selve, 
Though  she  have  wovvers,  ten  or 

twelve, 

1  Throwe,  space  of  time. 

2  Resske,  rush. 

3  Rounen,  whisper. 

4  Namely,  especially. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


97 


For  no  mistrust  I  have  of  her 
Me  greveth  nought,  for  certes,  sir, 
I  trowe  in  all  this  world  to  seche 
Nis    woman,    that    in    dede    and 

speche 
Woll  better   avise    her  what    she 

doth, 

Ne  better,  for  to  saie  a  sothe, 
Kepe  her  honour  at  alle  tide 
And  yet  get  her  a  thank  beside. 
But  netheles  I  am  beknowe, 
That  whan  I  se  at  any  throwe  l 
Or  elles  if  I  may  it  here, 
That    she    make   any    man    good 

chere, 
Though  I   therof  have  nought  to 

done, 
My  thought  woll  entermete  2  him 

sone. 

For  though  I  be  my  selven  straunge 
Envie'  maketh  min  herte  chaunge, 
That  I  am  sorwefully  bestad 
Of  that  I  se  another  glad 
With  hire,  but  of  other  all 
Of  Lovd  what  so  may  befall, 
Or  that  he  faile  or  that  he  spede, 
Therof  take  I  but  litel  hede. 
Nowe  have  I  said,  my  fader,  all, 
As  of  this  point  in  speciall 
As  ferforthly  as  I  have  wiste.:} 
Nowaxeth,  fader,  what  you  liste." — 
"  My  sone,  ere  I  axe  any  more 
I  thenke  somdele  for  thy  lore 
Tell  an  ensample  of  this  mate're 
Touchend  Envy,  as  thou  shalt  here. 

"  Write  in  Civile  this  I  finde, 
Though  it  be  nought  the  houndes 

kinde 

To  etc  chaff,  yet  woll  he  werne 
An  oxe,  which  cometh  to  the  berne, 
Therof  to  taken  any  fode. 
And  thus  who  that  it  understode 


1   Tkrowe,  space  of  time. 
-  Enter  mete  t  go  apart  from. 
8  As  far  forth  as  I  huvc  known. 


It  stant  of  Love  in  many  a  place, 
\Vho  that  is  out  of  Lovds  grace 
And  may  him  selven  nought  availe, 
He  wold  an  other  sholde'  faile. 
And  if  he  may  put  any  lette, 
He  doth  al  that  he  may  to  lette. 
Wherof  I  finde,  as  thou  shalt  wit, 
To  this  purpos  a  tald  write. 

"  ^^crc  ben  of  suche  mo  than 

twelve, 
That  ben  nought  able  as  of  hem 

selve 

To  gette  love,  and  for  Envie 
Upon  all  other  they  aspie. 
And  for1  hem   lacketh  that   they 

wolde, 

They  kepe  that  none  other  sholde 
Touchend  of  love  his  cause  spede; 
Wherof  a  great  ensample  I  rede, 
Whiche  unto  this  matere  accordeth, 
As  Ovide  in  his  boke  recordeth, 
How  Poliphemus  whilom  wrought, 
Whan  that  he  Galathe  besought 
Of  love',   whiche   he  may  nought 

lacche,2 
That  made  him  for  to  waite  and 

wacche 

By  alle*  waids  howe  it  ferde  ; 
Till  at  the  last  he  knewe  and  herde 
How  that  an  other  hadde*  leve 
To  love  there,  as  he  mot  leve 
As  for  to  speke  of  any  spede  ; 
So  that  he  knew  none  other  rede 
But  for  to  waiten  upon  alle 
Till  he  may  se  the  charmed  faile, 
That  he  her  love  mights'  greve, 
Whiche  he  him  self  may  nought 

acheve. 

This  Galathe,  saith  the  podte, 
Above  all  other  was  unmete  3 
Of  beautd,  that  men  thanne  knewe, 
And  had  a  lusty  love,  and  trewe 


1  For,  because. 

'-  Lacche,  catch,  secure. 

•>  Unnietc,  beyond  measure. 


98 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


A  bacheler  in  his  degre, 
Right  such  an  other  as  was  she ; 
On  whom  she  hath  her  hert£  set, 
So  that  it  might^  nought  be  let l 
For  yifte'  ne  for  no  beheste, 
That  she  ne  was  all  at  his  heste.2 
This  yonge  knight  Aci's  was  hote,:i 
Whiche  her  ayeinwarde  also  hote  4 
All  only  loveth  and  no  mo.5 
Herof  was  Poliphemus  wo 
Through  pure  En  vie  and  everaspide 
And  waiteth  6  upon  every  side, 
Whan  he  to-gider  mights'  se 
This  yonge  Aci's  with  Gaiathd. 
So  longe  he  waiteth  to  and  fro, 
Till  at  the  laste  he  founde  hem  two 
In  prive  place,  where  they  stood 
To  speke  and  have  her  worde's good. 
The  place",  where  as  he  hem  sigh,7 
It  was  under  a  banke  nigh 
The  greatd  se,  and  he  above 
Stood  and  behelde  the  lusty  love, 
Whiche  eche  of  hem  to  other  made 
With  goodly  chereand  wordes  glade 
That  all  his  hert  hath  sette  a  fire 
Of  pure  Envie.     And  as  a  vire  8 
Which  flieth  out  of  a  mighty  bowe, 
Away  he  fleddd  for  a  thro  we,9 
As  he  that  was  for  love  wode, 
Whan  that  he   sigh  how   that   it 

stode. 

This  Polipheme  a  geaunt  was. 
And  whan  he  sigh  the  sothe  cas, 
How  Galathe'  him  hath  forsake 
And  Acis  to  her  love  take, 
His  herte'  may  it  nought  forbere 
That  he  ne  roreth  as  a  bere 
And  as  it  were  a  wilde"  beast 
In  whom  no  reson  might  areste. 
He  ranne  Ethnd  the  hill  about, 
Where  never  yet  the. fire  was  out, 

1  Let,  hindered.  *  Heste,  command. 

•*  Hate,  named.  4  Hotc,  hotly. 

5  No  tao,  no  more,  no  one  else. 

Waitetk,  watchcth.      7  Sigh,  saw. 
*  Virc,  arrosv.        3  Tkrvuie,  space  of  time. 


Fulfilled  of  sorwe  and  great  disese 
That  he  sigh  Acis  well  at  ese. 
Till  atte  last  he  him  bethoughte 
As  he  which  all  Envie  soughte, 
And  torneth  to  the  banke  ayein 
Where  he  with  Galathe  hath  sein 
That    Acis,    whom    he     thoughte 

greve, 
Though  he  him  self  may  nought 

releve. 

This  geaunt  with  his  rude  might 
Part  of  the  banke  he  shof  down 

right, 

The  whiche  even  upon  Acis  fille,1 
So.  that  with  falling  of  this  hille 
This  Poliphemus  Acis  slough, 
Wherof  she  made  sorwe  inough. 
And  as  she  fiedde  from  the  londe, 
Neptunus  toke  her  by  the  honde 
And  kept  her  in  so  faste  a  place 
Fro  Polipheme  and  his  manace, 
That  he  with  al  his  false  Envie 
Ne  might  atteigne  her  compaignic. 
This  Galathe,  of  whom  I  speke, 
That  of  her  self  may  nought  be 

wreke,2 

Withouten  any  semblaunt  feigned 
She    hath    her    loves    deth    com- 

pleigned, 
And  with  her  sorwe  and  with  her 

wo 

She  hath  the  goddes  moved  so, 
That  they  of  pite  and  of  grace 
Have  Acis  in  the  same  place, 
There  he  lay  dede,  into  a  welle 
Transformed,  as  the  bokes  telle, 
With  fresshe'  streme's  and  with  clere, 
As  he  whilom  with  lusty  chere 
Was  fressh  his  love'  for  to  queme.3 
And  with  this  rude  Polipheme 
For  his  Envie  and  for  his  hate 
They    were    wroth.       And     thus 

algate, 

1  Fille,  fell.  -  U'rcke,  avenged. 

3  Qucme,  please. 


BOOK  //.— ENVY. 


99 


"  My  sone,  thou  might  under- 

stonde, 

That  if  thou  wolt  in  grace  stonde 
With  Love,  thou  must  leve  Envie: 
And  as  thou  wolt  for  thy  partie 
Toward  thy  love  stonde  fre 
So  must  thou  suffre  another  be, 
What  so  befalle  upon  thy  chaunce. 
For  it  is  an  unwise  vengeaiince 
Which  to  none  other  man  is  lefe 
And  is  unto  him  selve'  grefe."1 — 
"  My    fader,   this    ensample    is 

good, 

But  how  so  ever  that  it  stood 
With  Poliphemus  love  as  tho,2 
It  shall  nought  stonde  with  me  so 
To  worchen  any  felonie 
In  love  for  no  suche  en  vie. 
Forthy  if  there  ought  elles  be, 
Now  axeth  forth,  in  what  degre 
It  is,  and  I  me  shall  confesse 
With  shrifte  unto  your  holinesse. 
"  3^8  godd  son<5,  yet  there  is 
A  Vied  revers  unto  this, 
Whiche  envious   taketh  his  glad- 

ne'sse 

Of  that  he  seeth  the  hevinesse 
Of  other  men.      For  his  welfare 
Is,  whan  he  wote  another  care 
Of  that  an  other  hath  a  falle, 
He  thenketh  him  selfe  arist:!  with 

alle. 

Suche  is  the  gladship  of  Envie 
In  worldes  thing  and  in  partie 
Full  ofte  times  eke  also 
In  Loves  cause  it  slant  right  so. 
If  thou,  my  sone,  hast  joie  had, 
Whan  thou  an  other  sigh  unglad, 
Shrive  thee  therof." — "  My  fader, 

yis. 
I  am  beknowe  4  unto  you  this 

1  Which  pleases  no  other  man  and  grieves 
oneself. 

-  Tho,  then. 

3  Arist,  lifted  up. 

4  Bekturwc,  to  confess. 


Of  these  lovdrs  that  loven  streite,1 
And   for   that    point   which    they 

coveite 

Ben  pursuaiintes  from  yere  to  yere 
In  Loves  court,  when  I  may  here 
How  that  they  climbe   upon  the 

whele, 
And  whan  they  wene  all  shall  be 

wele 

They  ben  down  throwen  atte  laste, 
Than  am  I  fed  of  that  they  faste, 
And  laugh  of  that  I  se  hem  loure. 
And  thus  of  that  they  brewe  soure 
I  drinke*  swete,  and  am  well  esed 
Of  that  I  wote  they  ben  disesed. 
But  this  whiche  I  you  telle  here 
Is  only  for  my  lady  dere, 
That  for  none  other  that  I  knowe 
Me  recheth  nought  who  overthrow  e 
Ne  who  that  stonde  in  love  upright ; 
But  be  he  squier,  be  he  knight, 
Which  to  my  lady  warde2  pursueth 
The  more  he  lost  of  that  he  sueth, 
The  more  me  thenketh  that  I  winne, 
And  am  the  more  glad  withinne 
Of  that  I  wote  him  sorwe  endure  ; 
For  ever  upon  suche  aventure 
It  is  a  comfort,  as  men  sain, 
To  him  the  which  is  wo  besein>;J 
To  sene  an  other  in  his  peine, 
So  that  they  bothe  may  compleine. 
Where  I  myself  may  nought  availe, 
To  sene  an  other  man  travaile 
I  am  right  glad  if  he  be  let.4 
And  though  I  fare  nought  the  bet, 
His  sorwe  is  to  min  herte  a  game, 
Whan  that  I  knowe  it  is  the  same 
Which  to  my  lady  stant  enclined 
And  hath  his  love  noughttermmed,3 
I  am  right  joyfull  in  my  thought. 
If  such  Envie  greveth  ought, 

1  Streitf,  strictly,  intensely. 

-  To  tuy  lady  ivardc,  toward  my  lady. 

3  Wo  btsein^  clothed  in  sorrow. 

4  Let,  hindered. 

5  Tcrmtncd,  brought  to  the  desired  end. 


1OO 


CONFBSSIO  AMANTIS. 


As  I  beknowe  me  coupable, 
Ye  that  be  wise  and  resonable, 
My  fader,  telleth  your  avise." — 

"  My  sone,  Envie  in  to  no  prise 
Of  such  a  forme  I  understonde 
Ne  mighte  by  no  reson  stonde. 
For  this  Envie  hath  such  a  kinde, 
That  he  woll  set  himself  behinde 
To  hinder  with  another  wight, 
And  gladly  lese l  his  owne*  right 
To  make  another  lese  his. 
And  for  to  knowen  how  so  it  is 
A  tale  lich  to  his  matere 
I  thenke  telle,  if  thou  wolte  here, 
To  shewe  properly  the  Vice 
Of  this  Envie  and  the  malice. 

"  $f  §ttpif C1T  thus  I  finde  iwrite, 
How  whilom  that  he  wolde  wite  2 
Upon  the  pleinte  3  whiche  he  herde 
Among  the  men,  how  that  it  ferde, 
As  of  her  wrong  condicidn 
To  do  justification. 
And  for  that  cause  down  he  sent 
An  aungel,  which  aboute  went 
That  he  the  sothe  knowe  may. 
So  it  befell  upon  a  day 
This  aungel  which  him  shuld  en- 
forme 

Was  clothed  in  a  mannes  forme 
And  overtoke,  I  understonde, 
Two  men  that  wenten  over  londe, 
Through    which    he    thoughte    to 

aspie 

His  cause  and  goth  in  compaignie. 
This  aungel  with  his  wordes  wise 
Opposeth  hem  in  sondry  wise, 
Now  loude  wordes  and  now  softe, 
That  made  hem  to  desputen  ofte. 
And  eche  of  hem  his  reson  hadde, 
And  thus  with  tales  he  hem  ladde 
With  good  examination 
Till  he  knew  the  condition 
What  men  they  were  bothe  two ; 

1  Lese,  lose.  3  IVite,  know. 

a  Plciute,  complaint. 


And  sigh  wel  atte  laste  tho, 
That  one  of  hem  was  coveitoiis, 
And  his  felaw  was  envious. 
And  thus,  whan  he  hath  knoulech- 

ing> 

Anone  he  feigned  departing 
And  said  he  mote  algate  wende. 
But  herken  now  what  fell  at  ende, 
For  than  he  made  hem  understonde, 
That    he    was    there    of    Goddes 

sonde  ; l 

And  said  hem  for  the  kindeship 
That  they  have  done  him  felaship 
He  wolde  do  some  grace  ayein, 
And  bad  that  one  of  hem  shuld  sain 
What  thinge  him  is  levest  to  crave, 
And  he  it  shall  of  yifte  have. 
And  over  that 2  eke  forth  with  all 
He  saith  that  other  have  shall 
The  double  of  that  his  felawe  axeth : 
And  thus  to  hem  his  grace  he  taxeth. 
The  coveitous  was  wonder  glad, 
And  to  that  other  man  he  bad 
And  saith,  that  he  first  axe  sholde  ; 
For  he  supposeth  that  he  wolde 
Make  his  axing  of  worldes  good  ; 
For  than  he  knewe  well  ho  we  it 

stood, 

That  he  him  self  by  double  weight 
Shall  efte  take  ;  and  thus  by  sleight 
By  cause  that  he  wolde  whine 
He  badde  his  felaw  first  beginne. 
This  envious,  though  it  be  late 
Whan  that  he  sigh  3  he  mote  algate 
Make  his  axinge  first,  he  thought 
If  he  worship  or  profit  sought, 
It  shall  be  doubled  to  his  fere  : 4 
That  wold  he  chese  in  no  manere. 
But  than  he  sheweth  what  he  was 
Towarde  Envie,  and  in  this  cas 
Unto  this  aungel  thus  he  saide 
And  for  his  yifte  this  he  praide, 

1  Sonde,  sending. 

2  Over  that,  beyond  that. 

3  Sigh,  saw. 

4  J-'i'n't  companion. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


101 


To  make  him  blinde  on  his  one  eye, 
So  that  his  felaw  no  thing  sigh. 
This  word  was  nought  so  sone'  spoke, 
That  his  one  eye  anon  was  loke, 
And  his  felaw  forth  with  also 
Was  blinde  on  both  his  eyen  two. 
Tho  was  that  other  gladde  inough, 
That  one  wept,  that  other  lough, 
He  set  his  one  eye  at  no  cost 
Wherof  that  other  two  hath  lost. 
Of  thilke  ensample,  which  fell  tho, 
Men  tellen  now  full  ofte  so. 
The  worlde  empeireth  l  comunly 
And  yet  wot  none  the  cause  why  ; 
For  it  accordeth  nought  to  kinde  - 
Min    ownd    harme    to   seche  and 

finde, 

Of  that  I  shall  my  brother  greve 
I  mighte  never  wel  acheve. 

What  saist  thou,  sone,  of  this 

folie  ?  "- 

"  My  fader,  but 3  I  shulde'  lie 
Upon    the    point  which   ye   have 

saide, 

Yet  was  min  herte  never  laide 
But  in  the  wise  as  I  you  tolde. 
But  evermore  if  that  ye  wolde 
Ought  elles  to  my  shrifte  saie 
Touchend  Envie,  I  wolde  praie." — 
"My  sone,  that  shall  well  be  do. 
Now  herken  and  lay  thin  ere  to. 

"  ^OUC^enfc  as  of  envious  brood 
I  wot  nought  one  of  alle  good, 
But  netheles  suche  as  they  be 
Yet  there  is  one,  and  that  is  he, 
WThich  clepe'd  is  Detraction. 
And  to  conferme  his  action 
He  hath  witholde  Malebouche,4 
Whose    tunge     nouther     pill    ne 

crouche  5 
May  hire*  so  that  he  pronounce 

1  Etnjxireth,  grows  worse. 

2  Kinde,  nature.  a  But,  unless. 

*  Witholde   Malebouche,    held    with    Evil 
Mouth. 
8  /'/'//  ne  crouche,  plunder  nor  coin. 


A    plein     good    word    withouten 

frounce,1 

Where  behinde  a  mannes  backe  ; 
For  though  he  preise  he  find  some 

lacke, 

Whiche  of  his  tale  is  ay  the  laste 
That  all  the  prise  shall  overcaste. 
And  though  there  be  no  cause  why, 
Yet  woll  he  jangle  nought  forth) , 
As  he  whiche  hath  the  heraldic 
Of  hem  that  usen  for  to  lie. 
For  as  the  nettle  whiche  up  renneth 
The  fresshe'  rede  roses  brenneth 
And  maketh  hem  fade  and  pale  of 

hewe, 

Right  so  this  fals  envious  hewe  2 
In  every  place  where  he  dwelleth 
With  false  wordes  where  he  telleth 
He  torneth  preising  into  blame 
And  worship  into  worldes  shame. 
Of  such  lesinge  as  he  compdsseth 
Is  none  so  good  that  he  ne  passeth 
Betwene  his  tethe  and  is  backbited 
And  through  his  false  tunge  endited. 
Lich  to  the  sharnebudes  :{  kinde, 
Of  whose  nature  this  I  finde, 
That  in  the  hotest  of  the  day, 
Whan  comen  is  the  mery  May, 
He  spret  his  winge  and  up  he  fleeth 
And  under  all  aboute  he  seeth 
The  faire  lusty  floures  springe. 
But  therof  hath  he  no  likinge. 
But  where  he  seeth  of  any  beste 
The  filthe,  there  he  maketh  his  feste 
And  there  upon  he  woll  alighte, 
There  liketh  him  none  other  sighte 
Right  so  this  jangler  envious, 
Though  he  a  man  se  vertuous 
And  full  of  good  condicion, 
Therof  maketh  he  no  mencion. 
But  elles,  be  it  nought  so  lite,4 
Wherof  that  he  may  set  a  wite,5 


1  Frounce,  frown.  2  Heive,  servant. 

3  Sharnebudes,  shard-beetle's. 

*  Lite,  little.  5  M'ite,  blame. 


102 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


There  renneth  he  with  open  mouth 
Behinde    a    man    and  maketh    it 

couth.1 

But  all  the  vertue  vvhiche  he  can 
That  woll  he  hide,  of  every  man, 
And  openly  the  vice  telle, 
As  he  which  of  the  scole  of  helle 
Is  taught,  and  fostred  with  En  vie 
Of  housholde  and  of  compaignie, 
Where  that  he  hath  his  propre  office 
To  sette  on  every  man  a  vice. 
How  so  his  mouth  be  comely, 
His  worde  sit  e'ermore  awry 
And  saith  the  worste  that  he  may. 
And  in  this  wise  now  a  daye 
In  Loves  court  a  man  may  here 
Full  ofte  pleine  of  this  matere ; 
That  many  envious  tale  is  stered,2 
Where  that  it  may  nought  be  an 
swered 

But  yet  full  ofte  it  is  beleved ; 
And  many  a  worthy  love  is  greved 
Through  backbitinge  of  false  En  vie. 
"  If  thou  have  made  suche  jang- 

lerie 

In  Love's  court,  my  sone,  er  this, 
Shrive  thee  therof." — "  My  fader, 

yis. 

But  wite  ye  how,  nought  openly 
But  otherwhile  prively, 
Whan  I  my  dere  lady  mete 
And  thenke  how  that  I  am  nought 

mete 

Unto  her  highe  worthinesse, 
And  eke  I  se  the  besinesse 
Of  all  this  yonge*  lusty  route 
Which  all  day  pursue  her  aboute, 
And  eche  of  hem  his  time  awaiteth, 
And  eche  of  hem  his  tale  afifaiteth,3 
All  to  deceive  an  innocent 
Which  woll  nought  be  of  her4  as 
sent. 

l  Coiifh,  known. 
-  Stered,  stirred  up. 
:{  Affaiteth,  submitteth. 
4  Her,  their. 


And  for  men  sain  t  unknowen  un- 

kiste/ 

Her  thombe  she  holt  in  her  fiste 
So  close  within  her  owne  honde 
That  there  winneth  no  man  londe  ; 
She   leveth    nought    all    that    she 

hereth 
And   thus    ful    ofte    her    self  she 

skiereth  * 

And  is  all  ware  of  had  I  wist." 
But  for  all  that  min  hert  ariste 
Whan  I  these  comun  lovers  see 
That  wol  nought  holden  hem  to  thre 
But  well  nigh  loven  over  al, 
Min  hert  is  envious  with  all, 
And  ever  I  am  adrad  of  guile, 
In  aunter  if  with  any  wile 
They    might    her    innocence    en- 

chaunte. 

Forthy  my  words  full  ofte  I  haunte 
Behinde  hem  so  as  I  dare, 
Wherof  my  lady  may  beware. 
I  say  what  ever  cometh  to  mouth, 
And  wers  I  wolde  if  that  I  couth. 
For  whan  I  come  unto  her  speche 
All  that  I  may  enquere  and  seche 
Of  such  deceipte  I  telle  it  all, 
And  ay  the  worst  in  speciall. 
So  faine  I  wolde  that  she  wist 
How  litel  they  ben  for  to  trist, 
And  what  they  wold  and  what  they 

mente 

So  as  they  be  of  double  entente, 
Thus  toward  hem  that  wicke  mene  3 
My  wicked  word  was  ever  grene. 
And  netheles  the  soth  to  telle 
In  certein  if  it  so  befelle 
That  althertrewest  man  ibore  4 
To  chese  amonge  a  thousand  score, 
Which  were  all  fully  for  to  triste, 
My  lady  loved,  and  I  it  wiste, 

]  Skiereth,  secureth. 

-  Had  I  known.     Old  phrase  to  express  a 
repentance  come  too  late. 

3  Those  who  mean  wickedly. 

4  The  truest  of  all  men  born. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


103 


Vet  rather  than  he  shulde  spede 
I  wolde  suchc  talcs  sprede 
To  my  lady,  if  that  I  might, 
That  I  shuld  all  his  love  unright, 
And  therto  wolde  I  do  my  peine. 
For  certes  though  I  shulde  feigne 
And  telle  that  was  never  thought, 
For  all  this  worlde  I  mighte  nought 
To  suffre  an  other  fully  winne 
There  as  I  am  yet  to  beginne ; 
For  be  they  good  or  be  they  bad 
I  wolde  none  my  lady  had. 
And  that  me  rhaketh  full  ofte  aspie 
And  usen  wordes  of  Envie', 
And   for   to   make    hem    bere   a 

blame —  • 

And  that  is  but  of  thilke  same — 
The  whiche  unto  my  lady  dravve, 
For  ever  on  them  I  rounge1  and 

gnawe 
And  hinder  hem  all  that  ever  I 

maie. 

And  that  is,  sothly  for  to  saie, 
But  only  to  my  lady  selve; 
I  telle  it  nought  to  ten  ne  twelve, 
Therof  I  wol  me  well  avise 
To  speke  or  jangle  in  any  wise 
That  toucheth  to  my  ladies  name, 
The  whiche  in  ernest  and  in  game 
I  wolde  save,  in  to  my  deth; 
For  me  were  lever  to  lacke  breth 
Than  speken  of  her  name  amis. 
Now  have  ye  herd  touchend  of  this, 
My  fader,  in  Confession 
And  therfore  of  Detraction 
In  Love,  of  that  I  have  mispoke, 
Tell  how  ye  will  it  shall  be  wroke. 
I  am  all  redy  for  to  bere 
My  peine,  and  also  to  forbere 
What  thing  that  ye  woll  nought 

allowe; 

For  who  is  bounden,  he  must  bowe. 
So  woll  I  bowe  unto  your  hest, 
For  I  dare  make  this  behest, 

1  Rounge,  nip. 


That  I  to  you  have  nothing  hid, 
But  told  right  as  it  is  betid, 
And  otherwise  of  no  misspeche 
My  conscience  for  to  seche. 
I  can  nought  of  Envie  finde 
That  I  misspoke  have  ought  be- 

hinde, 

Wherof  love  oughte  be  mispaide. 
Now  have  ye  herde  and  I  have 

saide, 
What  woll  ye  fader,  that  I  do?"— 

"  My  sond,  do  no  more  so, 
But  ever  kepe  thy  tunge  still, 
Thou  might  the  more  have  thy  will. 
For  as  thou  saist  thy  selven  here, 
Thy  lady  is  of  such  manere, 
So  wise  so  ware  in  alle  thinges, 
It  nedeth  of  no  bakbitinges, 
That  thou  thy  lady  misenforme: 
For   whan    she    knoweth   all    the 

forme, 

How  that  thy  self  art  envious, 
Thou  shalt  nought  be  so  gracious, 
As    thou   paraunter l  shuldest   be 

elles. 
There  wol  no  man  drinke  of  the 

welles, 

Whiche  as  he  wote2  is  poison  inne. 
And  ofte  suche  as  men  beginne 
Towarde's  other,  such  they  finde, 
That  set  hem  ofte  fer  behinde 
Whan  that  they  wenen  be  before. 
My  gode  sone,  and  thou  therfore 
Be  ware  and  leve  thy  wicked  speche, 
Wherof  hath  fallen  ofte  \vreche:; 
To  many  a  man  before  this  time. 
For  who  so  wol  his  honde's  lime,4 
They  musten  be  the  more  unclene. 
For  many  a  mote  shall  be  sene, 
That  wolde  nought  cleve  elle*s  there ; 
And  that  shulde  every  wise  man  fere. 
For  who  so  woll  another  blame, 
He  seketh  ofte  his  owne  shame, 

1  Paraunter,  peradvcnture. 

-  ll'ott,  knows.          >  Wreche,  revenge. 

4  Take  birdlime  in  his  hands. 


IO4 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Which  elles  mighte  be  right  stille. 
Forthy  if  that  it  be  thy  wille 
To  stonde  upon  amendement, 
A  tale  of  great  entendement 
I  thenke  telle  for  thy  sake, 
Wherof  thou  might  ensample  take. 

"  ^  tr>ovfl)p  knight  in   Cristes 

la  we 

Of  greate"  Rome,  as  is  the  sawe. 
The  sceptre  hadde  for  to  right, 
Tibery  Constantin  he  hight, 
Whos  wife  was  eloped  Italic. 
But  they  to-gider  of  progenie 
No  children  hadde  but  a  maide, 
And  she  the  God  so  wel  apaide l 
That  al  the  wide  worldes  fame 
Spake  worship  of  her  gode  name. 
Constance,  as  the  cronique  saith, 
She  hight,  and  was  so  full  of  faith 
That  the  greatest  of  Barbaric, 
Of  hem  whiche  usen  marchandie, 
She  hath  converted,  as  they  come 
To  her  upon  a  time  in  Rome 
To    shewen    such    thing    as    they 

brought 

Which  worthely  of  hem  she  bought. 
And  over  that2  in  suche  a  wise 
She  hath  hem  with  her  wordes  wise 
Of  Cristes  feith  so  full  enformed, 
That  they  therto  ben  all  conformed, 
So  that  baptisme  they  receiven 
And  all  her3  false  goddes  weiven. 

"Whan   they  ben   of  the  feith 

certein, 

They  gone  to  Barbaric  ayein, 
Andthere  the  Souldan  for  hem  sente 
And  axeth  hem  to  what  entente 
They  have  her  firste  feith  forsake. 
And  they,  whiche  hadden  undertake 
The  righte  feith  to  kepe  and  holde, 
The  mater  of  her  tale  tolde 
With  all  the  hole  circumstaiince. 

1  Apaide,  pleased. 

2  Over  that,  beyond  that. 

3  Her,  their. 


And  whan  the   Souldan   of  Con- 

staunce, 

Upon  the  point  that  they  answerde. 
The  beaute  and  the  grace  herde, 
As  he  which  thanne  was  to  wedde. 
In  alle  haste  his  cause  spedde 
To  sende  for  the  manage. 
And  furthermore  with  good  corage 
He  saith,  be  so1  he  may  her  have, 
That  Crist,  that  came  this  world 

to  save, 

He  woll  beleve,  and  thus  recorded 
They  ben  on  either  side  accorded. 
And  there  upon  to  make  an  ende 
The  Souldan  his  hostages  sende 
To  Rome,  of  princes  sones  twelve. 
Wherof  the  fader  in  him  selve 
Was  glad,  and  with  the  Pope  avised. 
Two  Cardinales  he  hath  assised 
With  other  lordes  many  mo, 
That  with  his  doughter  shulden  go 
To  se  the  Souldan  be  converted. 
"  But  that  which  never  was  wel 

herted 

Envie  tho  gan  to  travaile 
In  disturbaiince  of  this  spousaile 
So  prively  that  none  was  ware. 
The  Moder  which  the  Souldan  bare 
Was  than  alive,  and  thoughte  this 
Unto  her  selfe  :  if  it  so  is, 
My  sone  him  wedde  in  this  manere, 
Than  have  I  lost  my  joies  here, 
For  min  estate  .shall  so  be  lassed. 
Thenkend  thus,  she  hath  com  passed 
By  sleight  how  that  she  may  beguile 
Her  sone,  and  fell  within  a  while, 
Betwene  hem  two  whan  that  they 

were, 

She  feigned  wordes  in  his  ere 
And  in  this  wise  gan  to  say  : 

'  My  sone,  I  am  by  double  way 
With  all  min  herte  glad  and  blithe, 
For  that  my  selfe  have  ofte  sithe  - 

1  Be  so,  if  so  be. 

2  Of tt  sithe,  oftentimes. 


BOOK  1 1. —ENVY. 


10: 


Desired  thou  woke,  as  men  saith, 
Receive  and  take  a  newe*  feith, 
Which  shall  be  forthringe  of  thy 

life. 

And  eke  so  worshipfull  a  wife 
The  doughter  of  an  emperour 
To  wedde,  it  shall  be  great  honour. 
Forthy  l  my  sone,  I  you  beseche, 
That  I  such  grace  might  areche, 
Whan  that  my  doughter  come  shall, 
That  I  may  than  in  special!, 
So  as  me  thenketh  it  is  honeste, 
Be  thilke  which  the  firste  feste 
Shall  make  unto  her  welcominge.' 
"  The    Souldan    graunteth    her 

axi'nge. 

And  she  therof  was  gladde  inough, 
For  under  that  anone  she  drough 
With  false  wordes  that  she  spake 
Covin  2  of  dethe  behinde  his  backe. 
And  therupon  her  ordinaunce 
She  made"  so,  that  whan  Constance 
Was  comen  forth  with  the  Remains, 
Of  clerkes  and  of  citezeins 
A  riche  feste  she  hem  made. 
And  moste"  whan  they  weren  glade 
With  false  covin,  which  she  hadde, 
Her  close  Envie  tho  she  spradde. 
And  alle  tho,  that  hadden  be 
Or  in  appert  or  in  prive 
Of  counseil  to  the  maridge, 
She  slough  hem  in  a  sodein  rage 
Endlong  the  borde  as  they  be  set, 
So  that  it  mighte*  nought  be  let. 
Her  owne  sone  was  nought  quite,15 
But  died  upon  the  same  plite. 
But  what  the  highe'  God  woll  spare 
It  may  for  no  perill  misfare. 
This    worthy   maiden    which   was 

there 
Stode  than  as  who  saith  dede  for 

fere 


1  Forth},  therefore. 

2  Corin,  secret  contrivance. 

3  Quite,  acquitted. 


To  se  the  fest  how  that  it  stood. 
Whiche  all  was  torne'd  into  blood. 
The  dissh  forth  with  the  cuppe  and 

all 

Bebled  1  they  weren  over  all ; 
She  sigh  hem  die  on  every  side, 
No  wonder  though  she  wepte  and 

cricle 

Makend  many  a  wofull  mone. 
When  all  was  slain  but  she  al  one, 
This  olde  fend,  this  Sarazin 
Let  take  anone  this  Constantin 
With  all  the  good  she thider brought 
And  hath  ordeigned  as  she  thought 
A  naked  ship  withoute  stere, 
In  which  the  good  and  her  in  fere, 
Vitated  full  for  yeres  five, 
Where  that    the    winde    it   wolde 

drive, 

She  put  upon  the  wawe*s  wilde. 
"  But  he,  which  alld  thinges  may 

shilde 

Thre  yere  til  that  she  cam  to  londe 
Her  ship   to  stere  hath  take   on 

honde, 

And  in  Northumberlond  arriveth;2 
And    happeth    thanne    that    she 

driveth 

Under  a  castell  with  the  flood, 
Whiche  upon  Humber  banke"  stood. 
And  was  the  kinge's  owne  also 
The  whiche  Alice  was  clepe'd  tho ; 
A  Saxon,  and  a  worthy  knight, 
But  he  beleveth  nought  aright. 
Of  this  caste"!!  was  castellaine 
Elda  the  kinges  chamberlaine, 
A  knightly  man  after  his  lawe. 
And  whan  he  sigh  upon  the  wawe  :i 
The  ship  drivdnd  alone*  so, 
He  badde  anone  men  shulden  go 
To  se  what  it  betoken  may. 
This  was  upon  a  somer  day 

1  Bebled,  covered  with  blood. 

2  Arrh'eth,  touches  shore. 

3  Saw  upon  the  waves. 


io6 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


The  ship  was  loked  and  she  foundc. 
Elda  within  a  litel  stounde  l 
It  wist,  and  with  his  wife  anone 
Toward  this  yonge  lady  gone, 
Where    that    they    founde    great 

richesse. 

But  she  her  wolde  nought  confesse, 
Whan  they  her  axen  what  she  was. 
And  netheles  upon  the  cas 
Out  of  the  ship  with  great  worshfp 
They  toke  her  into  felaship 
As  they  that  weren  of  her  glade. 
But  she  no  maner  joie  made, 
But  sorweth  sore  of  that  she  fonde 
No  christendome  in  thilke  londe  ; 
But  elles  she  hath  all  her  will, 
And  thus  with  hem  she  dwelleth 

still. 
Dame  Hermegild,  which  was  the 

wife 

Of  Elda,  liche  her  owne  life 
Constance  loveth  ;  and  fell  so 
Spekend  all  day  betwene  hem  two 
Through  grace  of  Goddes  purvei- 

aiince 

This  maiden  taughte  the  creaiince 
Unto  this  wife  so  parfitly, 
Upon  a  day  that  faste  by 
In  presence  of  her  husebonde, 
Where    they   go   walkend   on    the 

stronde, 

A  blinde  man  which  cam  ther  ladde 
Unto  this  wife  criend  he  badde 
With    bothe    his   hondes    up    and 

praide 

To  her,  and  in  this  wise  he  saide  : 
'  O  Hermegilde,  which  Cristes  feith 
Enforme'd  as  Constance  saith 
Received  hast :  yif  me  my  sight ! ' 
"  Upon    this    worde    her    herte 

aflight 

Thenkend  what  was  beste  to  done, 
But  netheles  she  herde  his  bone- 
And  saide:  *  Intrust  of  Cristes  lawe, 

1  Stounde,  interval,  hour.     2  Bone,  petition. 


Which  done  was  on  the  crosse  and 

slawe,1 

Thou  blinde  man  beholde  and  se  ! ' 
With  that,  to  God  upon  his  kne 
Thonkend,  he  toke  his  sight  anone, 
Wherof  they  merveil  everychone, 
But  Elda  wondreth  most  of  alle; 
This  open  thing  whiche  is  befalle 
Concludeth2  him  by  suche  a  way 
That  he  the  feith  mo  nede  obey. 
"  Now  list  what  fell  upon  this 

thinge. 

This  Elda  forth  unto  the  kinge 
A  morwe  toke  his  way  and  rode, 
And  Hermegild  at  home  abode 
Forth  with  Constance  well  at  ese. 
Elda,  which  thought   his  king  to 

plese, 

As  he  that  than  unwedded  was, 
Of  Constance  all  the  pleine  cas, 
As  godelich  as  he  couth,  tolde. 
The  king  was  glad,   and  said  he 

wolde 

Come  thider  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  he  him  might  of  her  avise.'5 
The  time  appointed  forth  withall 
This  Elda  truste  in  speciall 
Upon  a  knight  which  fro  childhode 
He  had  updrawe  into  manhode, 
To  him  he  tolde  all  that  he  thought ; 
Wherof  that  after  him  forthought.4 
And  netheles  at  thilke  tide 
Unto  his  wife  he  bad  him  ride 
To  make  redy  alle  thinge 
Ayeinst  the  cominge  of  the  kinge  ; 
And  saith  that  he  him  self  to-fore 
Thenketh  for  to   come,   and  bad 

therfore 
That  he  him  kepe,5  and  tolde  him 

whan. 


l  The  law  of  Christ  who  was  put  upon  the 
cross  and  slain. 
-  Concludeth,  decides. 

3  Him  avise,  take  note. 

4  Himforthouglit,  it  repented  him. 

5  Him  kcpc,  have  care  for  him,  look  for  him. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


icy 


This  knight  rode  forth  his  waie  than. 
And  soth  was,  that  of  time  passed 
He  had  in  all  his  wit  compassed, 
Howe  he  Constance'  mighte  winne. 
But  he  sigh  tho  no  spede1  therinne. 
Wherof  his  lust  began  to  abate, 
And  that  was  love  is  thanne  hate. 
Of  her  honour  he  had  Eny.ie, 
So  that  upon  his  trecherie 
A  lesinge  2  in  his  herte  he  cast. 
Til  he  come  home  he  hieth  fast, 
And  doth  his  lady  to  understonde 
The  message  of  her  huse'bonde. 
And  therupon  the  longe*  daie 
They  setten  thinge's  in  arraie, 
That  all  was  as  it  shulde*  be 
Of  every  thinge  in  his  degre. 
And  whan  it  came  into  the  night, 
This  wife  with  her  hath  to  bedde 

dight 
Where  that  this  maiden  with  her 

lay. 

This  false  knight  upon  delay, 
Hath  taried  till  they  were  aslepe, 
As  he  that  woll  his  time*  kepe 
His  dedly  v/erkes  to  fulfille. 
And  to  the  bed  he  stalketh  stille, 
Where  that  he  wiste  was  the  wife, 
And  in  his  honde  a  rasour  knife 
He  bar,  with  whiche  her  throte  he 

cut 

And  prive'ly  the  knife  he  put 
Under  that  other  bedde*s  side, 
Where  that  Constance"  lay  beside. 
Elda  come  horn  the  samd  night 
And  stille*  with  a  prive*  light, 
As  he  that  wolde*  nought  awake 
His  wife,  he  hath  his  waie  take 
Into  the  chambre,  and  there  lig- 

gend 

He  fonde  his  dede*  wife  bledend, 
Where  that  Constance*  faste  by 
Was  falle  aslepe  ;  and  sodeinly 

1  Sigh  tho  no  s/vde,  saw  then  no  success. 
"  Lesinge,  falsehood. 


He  cried  aloude,  and  she  awoke. 
And  forth  with  all  she  cast  a  loke 
And  sigh  this  lady  blede  there, 
Wherof  swoundnde*  dede  for  fere 
She  was,  and  stille  as  any  stone 
She  laie,  and  Elda  therupon 
Into  the  castell  clepeth  out, 
And  up  sterte  every  man  about ; 
Into  the  chambre  forth  they  went. 
But  he  whiche  all  untrouthe'  ment 
This  false*  knight  among  hem  all 
Upon  this  thing  whiche  is  befall 
Saith  that  Constance  hath  don  this 

dede. 

And  to  the  bed  with  that  he  yede 
After  the  falsehed  of  his  speche 
And  made  him  there  for  to  sechc,1 
And  fond  the  knife  where  he  it  laid. 
And  than  he  cried  and  than  he 

said: 

1  Lo,  se  the  knife  all  bloody  here, 
What  nedeth  more  in  this  matere 
To  axe  ? '  and  thus  her  innocence 
He  sclaundreth  there  in  audience 
With  false*  worde*s,  whiche  he 

feign  eth. 
But  yet  for  al  that  ever  he  pleineth. 

"  Elda  no  full  credence  toke. 
And  happe'd  that  there  lay  a  boke, 
Upon  the  which,  whan  he  it  sighe, 
This  knight  hath  swore,  and  said 

on  highe 

That  alle  men  it  mighten  wite,2 — 
4  Now  by  this  boke  which  here  is 

write, 

Constance  is  gultif  well  I  wote.' 
With  that  the  honde  of  Heven  him 

smote 

In  token  of  that  he  was  forswore, 
That  he  has  bothe  his  even  lore/ 
Out  of  his  hed  the  same*  stounde 
They  stert,  and  so  they  were 

founde. 

1  Sec/ie,  seek.  s  Wite,  know. 

3  Lore,  lost. 


loS 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


A  vois  was  herd  whan  that  they  fel, 
Which  saide :   '  O  dampned  man 

to  helle, 
Lo,  thus  hath  God  thy  sclaunder 

wroke, 
That  thou  ayein   Constance  hath 

spoke  : 
Beknowe  the  sothe1  er  that  thou 

deie.' 

And  he  tolde  out  his  felonie 
And  starf  forth  with  his  tale  anone. 
Into  the  grounde  where  alle  gone, 
This  dede  lady  was  begrave. 
Elda,  which   thought   his   honour 

save 

All  that  he  may,restreigneth  sorwe. 
"  For    by  the    second    day    a 

morwe 

The  king  came,  as  they  were  ac 
corded, 

And  whan  it  was  to  him  recorded, 
What  God  hath  wrought  upon  this 

chaunce, 

He  toke  it  into  remembraunce 
And  thoughte  more  than  he  saide; 
For  all  his  hole  herte  he  laide 
Upon    Constdnce,    and    saide   he 

shulde 

For  love  of  her,  if  that  she  wolde, 
Baptisme*  take  and  Cristes  feith 
Beleve,  and  over  that  he  saith 
He  wol  her  wedde,  and  upon  this 
Assured  eche  til  other  is. 
And  for  to  make  shorte  tales 
There  came  a  bisshop  out  of  Wales 
Fro  Bangor,  and  Lucie  he  hight, 
Which  through  the  grace  of  God 

almight 

The  king  with  many  an  other  mo 
He  cristned,  and  betwene  hem  two 
He  hath  fulfilled  the  mariage. 
But  for  no  lust  ne  for  ho  rage 
She  tolde  hem  never  what  she  was. 
And  netheles  upon  this  cas 

1  Confess  the  truth. 


The  king  was  glad,  how  so  it  stood, 
For  well  he  wist  and  understood 
She  was  a  noble  creature. 
The  highe  Maker  of  Nature 
Her  hath  visited  in  a  throwe, 
That  it  was  openliche  knowe 
She  was  with  childe  by  the  kinge, 
Wherof  above  all  other  thinge 
He  thonketh  God  and  was  right 

glad. 

And  fell  that  time  he  was  bestad 
Upon  a  werre,  and  muste  ride. 
And  while  he  shulde  there  abide 
He  left  at  home  to  kepe  his  wife 
Suche  as  he  knewe  of  holy  life, 
Elda  forth  with  the  bisshop  eke. 
And  he  with  power  go  to  seke 
Ayein  the  Scottes  for  to  fonde 1 
The    werre   whiche   he    toke    on 

honde. 

The  time  set  of  kinde  is  come, 
This  lady  hath  her  chambre  nome  2 
And  of  a  sone  bore  fulle, 
Wherof  that  she  was  joiefull, 
She  was  delivered  sauf  and  sone.3 
The  bisshop,  as  it  was  to  done, 
Yaf  him  baptisme  and  Moris  calleth. 
And  therupon  as  it  befalleth 
With  letters  writen  of  recdrde 
They  send  unto  her  lege  lorde 
That  kepers  weren  4  of  the  quene. 
And  he,  that  shulde  go  betwene, 
The  messanger  to  Knaresburgh 
(Which    town    he    shulde    passe 

thurgh) 

Ridende  cam  the  firste  daie ; 
The  kinges  moder  there  lay, 
Whose  righte  name  was  Domilde, 
Whiche  after  all  the  cause  spilde. 
For  he,  which  thonk  deserve  wolde, 
Unto  this  lady  goth  and  tolde 

1  Fonde,  try  issues  in. 

2  Nome,  taken. 

3  Safe  and  sound. 

4  They  that  were  keepers  of  the  queen  sent 
to  their  liege  lord. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


109 


Of  his  message  al  how  it  ferde. 
And  she  with  feigned  joie  it  herde 
And  yaf  him  yefte's  largely, 
But  in  the  night  al  prively 
She  toke  the  letters  whiche  he  had, 
Fro  point  to  point  and  overrad l 
As  she  that  was  through  out  un- 

trewe, 

And  let  do  writen  other  newe 
I  n  stedeof  hem,  and  thus  they  speke. 
*  Our  lege  lord,  we  thee  beseke, 
That  thou  with  us  ne  be  nought 

wroth, 
Though  we  such  thing  as  is  thee 

loth 

Upon  our  trouthe  certifie. 
Thy  wife',  whiche  is  of  fairie, 
Of  suche  a  child  delivered  is, 
Fro  kinds',2  which  stant  all  amis. 
But  for  it  shulde  nought  be  saie 
We  have  it  kept  out  of  the  waie 
For  drede  of  pure*  woride's  shame, 
A  pouer  childe,  and  in  the  name 
Of  thilke  whiche  is  so  misbore, 
We  toke  and  therto  we  be  swore, 
That  none  but  only  you  and  we 
Shall  knowen  of  this  privets'. 
Morice  it  hat,  and  thus  men  wene 
That  it  was  boren  of  the  queue 
And  of  thine  owne  bodie  gete. 
But  this  thing  may  nought  be  for- 

yete, 

That  thou  ne  sende  us  worde  anone, 
What  is  thy  willd  therupon.' 

"This  letter,  as  thou  hast  herd 

devise, 

Was  counterfet  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  no  man  shulde  it  apperceive. 
And  she  which  thought^  to  deceive 
It  laith  where  she  that  other  toke. 
This  messanger,  whan  he  awoke, 
And  wist  nothing^  how  it  was, 
Arose  and  rode  the  greats'  pas 

1  And  read  them  over  from  point  to  point* 
'•  Fi-o  kinder  contrary  to  nature. 


And  toke  his  letter  to  the  kinge. 
And  whan  he  sigh1  this  wonder 

thinge, 

He  maketh  the  messanger  no  chere, 
But  nethe'les  in  wise  manere 
He  wrote  ayein.and  yaf  him  charge 
That  they  lie  suflfre  nought  at  large 
His  wife  to  go  but  kepe  her  still, 
Till  they  have  herd  more  of  his 

will. 

•*  This  messanger  was  yefteles, 
But  with  his  letter  nethe'les,  "" 
Or  be  him  lefe  or  be  him  loth, 
In  alle  haste  ayeine  he  goth 
By  Knaresburgh,  and  as  he  went, 
Unto  the  moder  his  entent 
Of  that  he  fond  toward  the  kinge 
He  tolde,  and  she  upon  this  thinge 
Saith,  that  he  shulde  abide  all  night 
And   made   him   feste  and  chere 

aright, 
Feignend  as  though  she  couthe  him 

thonke.2 
But  he  with  strong  wine  which  he 

dronke 

Forth  with  the  travaile  of  the  day 
Was  drunke  aslepe,  and  while  he  lay 
She  hath  his  letters  oversay, 
And  formed  in  an  other  way 
There  was  a  news'  letter  write, 
"  Which  saith  :  *  I  do  you  for  to 

wite, 

That  through  thecounseilof  you  two 
I  stonde  in  point  to  ben  undo, 
As  he  whiche  is  a  king  deposed, 
For  every  man  it  hath  supposed 
How  that  my  wife  Consignee  is  fay. 
And  if  that  I,  they  sain,  delay 
To  put  her  out  of  compaignie, 
The  worship  of  my  regalie 
Is  lore,  and  over  this  they  telle 
Her  child  shal  nought  among  hem 

dwelle 

1  Sig/t,  saw. 

-  Coutlte  him  t/wnke,  paid  him  thanks. 


I  10 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


To  claimen  any  heritage. 
So  can  I  se  none  avauntage, 
But  all  is  lost,  if  she  abide. 
Forthy  to  loke  on  every  side 
Toward  the  mischefe  as  it  is 
I  charge  you  and  bidde  this, 
That  ye  the  same  ship  vittaile, 
In  which  that  she  toke  arrivaile, 
Therin  and  putteth l  bothd  two 
Her  self  forth  with  her  childe  also, 
And  so  forth  brought  into  the  depe 
Betaketh  her  the  see  2  to  kepe. 
Of  foure  dale's  time  I  set 
That  ye  this  thing  no  lenger  let,3 
So  that  your  life  be  nought  forfete.' 
"  And  thus  this  letter  counterfete 
The  messanger,  which  was  unware, 
Upon  the  kinges  halve  bare 
And  where  he  shulde  it  hath  betake. 
But  whan  that  they  have  hede  take 
And  rad  that  writen  is  withinne, 
So  great  a  sorwe  they  beginne, 
As  they  her  4  owne  moder  sighen 
Brent  in  a  fire  before  her4  eyen. 
There  was  wepinge  and  there  was 

wo, 

But  finall^  the  thinge  is  do. 
Upon    the    see    they    have    her 

brought, 

But  she  the  cause  wiste  nought, 
And    thus    upon    the    flood    they 

wone5 

This  lady  with  her  yonge  sone. 
And  than  her  hondes  to  the  heven 
She  straught,    and  with  a  milde 

steven  G 

Knelend  upon  her  bare  kne 
She  saide  :   '  O  highe  mageste, 
Which   seest   the   point  of  every 

trouth, 
Take  of  thy  wofull  woman  routh 

1  Tlterin  and  putteth,  and  put  therein. 
3  Betaketh  her  the  see,  commit  her  to  the 
sea. 

3  Let,  delay.  4  Her,  their. 

3  Wane,  dwell.  6  -Steven,  voice. 


And    of    this    child    that    I    shal 

kepe ! ' * 
And  with  that  word   she  gan   to 

wepe 
Swounend  as  dede,  and  there  she 

lay.    , 

But  he,  whiche  alle  thinges  may, 
Confdrteth  her,  and  atte  laste 
She  loketh,  and  her  eyen  caste 
Upon  her  childe,  and  sayde  this  : 
1  Of  me  no  maner  charge  it  is 
What  sorwe  I  suffre,  but  of  thee 
Me  thenketh  it  is  great  pitee, 
For  if  I  sterve  thou  shalt  deie, 
So  mote  I  nedes  by  that  weie 
For  moderhed  and  for  tendernesse 
With  all  min  hole  besinesse 
Ordeigne  me  for  thilke  office 
As  she  which  shall  be  thy  norice.' 
Thus  was   she   strengthed  for  to 

stonde. 
And  tho  she  toke  her  childe  in 

honde 

And  yaf  it  souke  and  ever  amonge 
She  wepte  and  otherwhile  songe 
To  rocke  with  her  childe  aslepc  ; 
And  thus  her  owne  childe  to  kepe 
She  hath  under  the  Goddes  cure. 

"And  so  fell  upon  aventiire, 
Whan  thilke  yere  hath  made  his 

ende, 

Her  ship,  so  as  it  moste  wendc, 
By  strength  of  wind   which   God 

hath  yive 

Estward  was  into  Spaine  drive 
Right  fast  under  a  castell  walle 
Where  that  an  hethen  admiralle 
Was  lorde,  and  he  a  steward  had 
One  Thelous,  whiche  al  was  bad, 
A  fals  knight  and  a  renegate. 
He  goth  to  loke  in  what  estate 
The  ship  was  comen,  and  there  lie 

fonde 

1  Shal  kepe,  have   to  take  care  of  (shall, 
with  the  sense  of  obligation). 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


in 


Forth  with  a  childe  upon  her  honde 
This  lady  where  she  was  alone. 
He  toke  good  hede  of  the  persone 
And  sigh  she  was  a  worthy  wight, 
And  thought  he  wolde  upon  the 

night 

Demene  her  at  his  owne*  wille  ; 
And  let  her  be  therinne'  stille, 
That  no  man   sigh   she  nought1 

that  day. 

At  Goddes  wille  and  thus  she  lay 
Unknowe  what  her  shall  betide. 
And  fell  so  that  by  nighte's  tide 
This  knight  withoute  felaship 
Hath  take  a  boo^  and  cam  to  ship 
And  thought  of  her  his  lust  to  take, 
And   swore,   if  she  him  daunger 

make, 

That  certainly  she  shulde  deie. 
She  sigh  there  was  none  other  weie 
And  saide  he  shulde  her  well  con- 

forte, 

That  he  first  loked  out  at  porte, 
That  no  man  were  nigh  the  stede 
Which  mighte  knowe  what  they 

dede, 

And  than  he  may  do  what  he  wolde. 
He  was  right  glad  that  she  so  tolde, 
And  to  the  port  anone  he  ferde. 
"  She  praieth  God,  and  he  her 

herde. 

And  sodeinlich  he  was  out  throvve 
And  dreint,2  and  tho3  began  to 

blowe 

Winde  mevable  fro  the  londe, 
And  thus  the  mighty  Goddes  honde 
Her  hath  conveie'd  and  defended. 
And  whan  thre  yere  ben  full  de- 

spended, 

Her  ship  was  drive  upon  a  daie, 
Where  that  a  great  navie  laie 
Of  shipped,  all  the  worlde  at  ones. 
And  as  God  wolde  for  the  nones 


1  She  saw  not  any  man. 
-  Dreint,  drowned. 


Tho,  then. 


Her  ship  goth  in  amongc  hem  alle 
And  stint  nought  er  it  be  befalle 
And  hath  that  vessel  under  gete 
Which  maister  was  of  all  the  flete ; 
But  there  it  resteth  and  abode. 
This  grete  ship  on  anker  rode, 
The  lord  come  forth,  and  whan  he 

sigh 

That  other  ligge  on  bord  so  nigli 
He  wondreth  what  it  mighte  be, 
And  bad  men  to  go  in  and  se. 
This  lady  tho  was  crope  a  side 
As  she  that  wolde  her  selven  hide, 
For  she  ne  wiste  what  they  were. 
They  sought  about  and  fond  her 

there 

Andbroughtenupherchildeandher. 
And  therupon  this  lord  to  spire  1 
Began  fro  whenne  that  she  came 
And  what  she  was.     Quod  she  : 

'I  am 

A  woman  wofully  bestad. 
I  had  a  lorde  and  thus  he  bad, 
That  I  forth  with  my  litel  sone 
Upon  the  wawe's  shulde  wone. 
But  why  the  cause  was  I  not,2 
But  he  whiche  alle  thinges  wot 
Yet  hath,  I  thonk  him,  of  his  might 
My  childe  and  me  so  kepte  upright, 
That  we  be  saufe  bothe  two/ — 
This  lorde  her  axeth  evermo 
How  she  beleveth,  and  she  saith  : 
'  I  leve  and  trust  in  Cristes  feith, 
Which  died  upon  the  rode'  tre/ — 
'  What  is  thy  name  ?'  tho  quod  he. 
4  My  name  is  CusteY  she  him  saide. 
But   furthermore    for    nought    he 

praide 

Of  her  estate  to  knowe  pleine, 
She  wolde  him  nothing  elles  saine 
But  of  her  name,  which  she  feigned, 
All  other  thinge's  she  restreigned, 
That  o  word  more  she  ne  tolde. 
This  lord  than  axeth  if  she  wolde 

1  Spire,  enquire,  *:.speir."       -  .\W,  know  not. 


112 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


With  him  abide  in  compaignie, 
And  saide,  he  came  from  Barbaric 
To  Rome  ward  and  home  he  went. 
Tho  she  supposeth  what  it  ment 
And  saith,  she  wolde  with  him  wende 
And  dwelle  unto  her  lives  ende, 
If  it  so  be  to  his  plesaunce. 
And  thus  upon  her  a"cqueintaunce 
He  tolde  her  pleinly  as  it  stood, 
Of  Rome  how  that  the  gentil  blood 
In  Barbaric  was  betraied 
And  therupon  he  hath  assaied 
By  werre,  and    taken    such  ven- 

geaunce 

That  none  of  thilke  euil  alliaunce, 
By  whom  the  treson  was  compassed, 
Is  from  the  swerd  alive  passed. 
But  of  Constance  how  it  was 
That  couthe  l  he  knowe  by  no  cas 
Where  she  becam,  so  as  he  said ; 
Her  ere  unto  his  word  she  laid, 
But  furthermoremade  she  no  chere. 
And  netheles  in  this  mature 
It  happed  that  ilke  time  so 
This  lord  with  whom  she  shulde  go 
Of  Rome  was  the  senatour 
And  of  her  fader  themperour 
His  brother  doughter  hath  to  wive, 
Which  hath  her  fader  eke  on  live,2 
And  was  Salustes  cleped  tho, 
His  wife  Heleine  hight  also, 
To  whom  Constdncd  was  cousine. 
Thus  to  the  sike  a  medicine 
Hath  God  ordeigne'd  of  his  grace, 
That  forthwith  in  the  same  place 
This  senatour  his  trouthe  plight 
For  ever  while  he  live*  might 
To  kepe  her  in  worship  and  in  wele, 
Be  so  that  God  woll  yive  her  hele, 
This  lady,  which  For  tune  himsende. 
And  thus  by  shippe 'forth  sailende 
Her  and  her  childe  to   Rome  be 

brought, 
And  to  his  wife  tho  he  besought 

1  Couthe,  could.          -  On  live,  alive. 


To  take  her  into  compaignie. 
And  she,  which  couth  of  curtesie 
All  that  a  good  wife  shulde  conne,1 
Was  inly  glad,  that  she  hath  wonne 
The  felaship  of  so  good  one. 
This  emperoures  doughter  Custe 
Forth  with  the  doughter  of  Saluste 
Was  kept,  but  no  man  redely 
Knew  what  she  was,  and  nought 

forth^ 

They  thoughten  well  she  hadde  be 
In  her  estate  of  high  degre, 
And  every  life  her  loveth  wele. 
"  Now  herken  :  thilke  unstable 

whele       r 

Whiche  ever  torneth  went  aboute. 
The  king  Allee,  while  he  was  oute, 
As  thou  to-fore  hast  herd  this  cas, 
Deceived  through  his  moder  was. 
But  whan  that  he  come  home  ayein, 
He  axeth  of  his  chamberlain 
And  of  the  bisshop  eke  also, 
Where  they  the  quene  hadden  do. 
And  they  answerde  there  he  bad 
And  have  him  thilke  letter  rad 
Whiche  he  hem  sende  for  warrant, 
And  tolde  him  pleinly  as  it  stant, 
And  sain,  it  thought  hem  great  pite 
To  se  a  worthy  one  as  she 
With  suche  a  childe  as  there  was 

bore 

So  sodeinly  to  be  forlore. 
He  axeth  hem,   what   child    that 

were. 

And  they  him  saide,  that  no  where 
In  all   the  world,  though  men  it 

sought, 
Was    never     woman     that    forth 

brought 

A  fairer  child  than  it  was  one. 
And  than  he  axeth  hem  anone,   , 
Why  they  ne  hadden  writen  so.    « 
They  tolden,  so  they  hadden  do. 

1  Who  knew  all  that  a  good   wife  should 
know  of  courtesy. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY 


He  saidtf,  nay.     They  saiden,  yis. 
The  letter  shewed,  rad  l  it  is, 
Which  they  forsoken  every  dele.2 
Tho  was  it  understonde  wele 
That  there  is  treson  in  the  thinge. 
The  messanger  to-fore  the  kinge 
Was  brought  and,  sodeinlich  op 
posed 

As  he  which  no  thinge  hath  sup 
posed 

But  alle  wel,  began  to  saie, 
That  he  no  where  upon  the  waie 
Abode  but  only  in  a  stede,3 
And  cause  why  that  he  so  dede, 
Was,  as  he  wente*  to  and  fro, 
At  Knaresburgh  by  nighte's  two 
The    kinge's    moder    made    him 

dwelle. 

And  when  the  king  it  herde  telle, 
Within  his  hert  he  wiste  als  faste 
The  treson  whiche  his  moder  caste; 
And    thought    he    wolde    nought 

abide 

But  forth  right  in  the  same  tide 
He  toke  his  hors  and  rode  anone, 
With  him  there  riden  many  one, 
To   Knaresburgh,  and  forth  they 

wente 
And  lich  the  fire  which  thonder 

hente  4 

In  suche  a  rage,  as  saith  the  boke, 
His  moder  sodeinlich  he  toke 
And  saide  unto  her  in  this  wise  : 
4  O  beste  of  helle,  in  what  juise  5 
Hast  thou  deserved  for  to  deie, 
That  hast  so  falsely  put  aweie 
With  treson  of  thy  backbitinge 
The  trewest  at  my  knoulechinge 
Of  wive's  and  the  most  hone'st  ? 
But  I  wol  make  this  behest, 


1  Rod,  read. 

-  Forsoken,  denied  in  every  part. 
:{  A  stede,  one  place. 

*  Hentc,  pursued  and  seized,  i.e.,  lightning, 
the  fire  on  which  the  thunder  pounced. 

'"'  Jufse,  judgment. 


I  shall  be  venged  or ]  I  go.' 
And  let  a  fire'  do  make  tho 
And  bad  men  for  to  caste  her  inne. 
But  first  she  tolde  out  all  the  sinne, 
And  did  hem  alld  for  to  wite 
How  she  the  letters  hadde  write, 
Fro    point    to    point    as    it    was 

wrought. 

And  tho  she  was  to  dethe'  brought  ' 
And  brent  to-fore  her  sends  eye, 
Wherof  these  other,  whiche  it  sighe 
And  herden  how  the  cause  stood, 
Sain,  that  the  juge'ment  was  good 
Of  that  her  sone  her  hath  so  served; 
P'or  she  it  hadde  wel  deserved 
Through  treson  of  her  false  tunge, 
Which  through  the  lond  was  after 

songe, 
Constance  and2  every  wight  com- 

pleineth. 

But  he,  whom  alle  wo  distreigneth, 
This  sorwefull  king,  was  so  bestad 
That  he  shall  never  more  be  glad, 
He  saith,  eftsond  for  to  wedde 
Till  that  he  wist  how  that  she  spedde 
Which  hadde  ben  his  firste  wife ; 
And  thus  his  yonge  unlusty  life 
He  driveth  forth  so  as  he  may. 

"Till  it  befel  upon  a  day, 
Whan  he  his  werres  hadde  acheved 
And  thought  he  wolde  be  releved 
Of  soule  hele  upon  the  feith 
Whiche  he  hath  take',  than  he  saith, 
That  he  to  Rome  in  pelrindge 
Wol  go,  where  Pope'  was  Pelage, 
To  take  his  absoluci6n. 
And  upon  this  condicion 
He  made  Edwin  his  lieutenaiint, 
Whiche  heir  to  him  was  apparaiint, 
That  he  the  lond  in  his  absence 
Shall  reule.  And  thus  by  providence 
Of  alld  thinge's  well  begonne 
He  toke  his  leve  and  forth  is  gone. 

1  Or,  ere. 

-  And  every  one  laments  for  Constance. 


I  T.| 


CONFESSfO  A  MANTIS. 


"  Elda,  which  was  with  him  tho 

there, 

Er  they  fulliche  at  Rome  were, 
Was  sent  to-fore  to  purveie, 
And  he  his  guide  upon  the  weie, 
In  helpe*  to  ben  herbergeour1 
Hath  axed  who  was  senatour, 
That  he  his  name  mighte  kenne. 
Of  Capadoce,  he  saide,  Arcenne 
He  hight  and  was  a  worthy  knyght. 
To  him  goth  Elda  tho  forth  right 
And  tolde  him  of  his  lord  tiding 
And  praide,  that  for  his  cominge 
He  wolde  assigne  him  herbergjige. 
And  he  so  did  of  good  cordge. 

<:  Whan  all  is  do  that  was  to  done, 
The  kinge  him  self  cam  after  sone. 
This  senatour  whan  that  he  come 
To  Custe  and  to  his  wife  at  home, 
Hath  tolde  howsuche  a  Kinge  Alice 
Of  great  array  to  the  citee 
Was  come,  and  Cust  upon  his  tale 
With  herte  close  and  colour  pale 
A  swoune  2  felle,  and  he  merveileth 
So  sodeinly  what  thinge  her  eileth, 
And  caught  her  up,  and  whan  she 

woke 

She  siketh  with  a  pitous  loke 
And  feigneth  sikenesse  of  the  see, 
But  it  was  for  the  kinge  Alice, 
For  joie  which  fell  in  her  thought, 
That    God    him    hath    to    tovvne 

brought. 
This   King  hath    spoke   with   the 

Pope 

And  tolde  all  that  he  couthe  grope 
What  greveth  in  his  conscience, 
And  than  he  thought  in  reverence 
Of  his  estate,  er  that  he  went 
To  make  a  feste,  and  thus  he  sent 
Unto  the  senatour  to  come 
Upon  the  monve  and  other  some 

1  Herbergeonr,  one  sent  before  to  provide 
lodgings  for  a  stately  company. 
-  A  sivoitnf,  in  swoon. 


To  sitte  with  him  at  the  mete. 
This  tale  hath  Custe  nought  for- 

yete, 

But  to  Morice  her  sone  tolde 
That  he  upon  the  morwe  sholde 
In   all    that    ever    he    couth    and 

might 

Be  present  in  the  Kinges  sight, 
So  that  the  Kinge  him  ofte  sigh. 
Morice  to-fore  the  Kinges  eye 
Upon  the  morwe,  where  he  sat, 
Full  ofte  stood,  and  upon  that 
The    King    his    chere    upon    him 

caste 
And  in  his  face  him  thought  als 

faste 

He  sigh  his  owne  wife  Constance, 
For  Nature,  as  in  resemblaunce 
Of  face,  him  liketh  so  to  clothe 
That  they  were  of  a  suite  bothe. 
The  King  was  moved  in  his  thought 
Of  that  he  sigh,  and  knew  it  nought ; 
This  childe  he  loveth  kindely, 
And  yet  he  wot  no  cause  why  ; 
But  wel  he  sigh  and  understode, 
That  he  toward  Arcenne  stode, 
And  axeth  him  anone  right  there 
If  that  this  childe  his  sone  were. 
He  saide  :  '  ye,1  so  I  him  calle, 
And  wolde  it  were  so  befalle, 
But  it  is  all  in  other  wise.' 
And  tho  2  began  he  to  devise, 
How  he  the  childe's  moder  fonde 
Upon  the  see,  from  3  every  londe, 
Within  a  ship  was  stereles ; 
And  how  this  lady  helpe'les 
Forth  with  her  childe  he  hath  forth 

drawe. 
The   Kinge  hath    understood   his 

sawe 

The  childes  name  and  axeth  tho, 
And  what  the  moder  hight  also, 
That  he  him  wolde  telle  he  praide. 

l  Ye,  yea.  -'  Tho,  then. 

•'•  Fran,  away  from. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


*  Morice  this  childe  is  hote,' l  he 

saide, 

'  His  moder  hattd  Custe,  and  this 
I  not2  what  maner  name  it  is.' 
But  Allee  wiste  wel  inough, 
Wherof  somdele  smile'nd  he  lough. 
For  Custe  in  Saxon  is  to  saine 
Constance  upon  the  word  Remain e. 
But  who  that  couthe'  specific, 
What  tho  fell  in  his  fantasie, 
And  how  his  witte  aboute'  renneth 
Upon  the  love  in  which  he  bren- 

neth 

It  were  a  wonder  for  to  here. 
For  he  was  nouther  there  ne  here, 
But  clene  out  of  him  selfe  awey, 
That  he  not  what  to  thenke  or  say, 
So  faine  he  wolde  it  were*  she ; 
Wherof  his  herte's  privetd 
Began  the  werre  of  ye  and  nay, 
The  whiche  in  such  balauncd  lay 
That  contenaunce'  for  a  throwe  a 
He  lostd,  till  he  mightd  knowe 
The  soth.      But  in  his  memorie 
The  man  which  lieth  in  purgatorie, 
Desireth  nought  the  Heven  more 
That  he  ne  longeth  also  sore 
To  wite'  what  him  shall  betide. 
And  whan  the  bordes  were  aside 
And  every  man  was  rise  aboute, 
The  Kinge  hath  weive'd  all  the  route 
And  with  the  senatour  alone 
He  spake  and  praid  him  of  a  bone,4 
To  se  this  Cust6  where  she  dwelleth 
At  home  with  him,  so  as  he  telleth. 
The  senatour  was  wel  apaide ; 
This  thing  no  lenger  was  delaide. 
To  se  this  Guste*  goth  the  Kinge, 
And  she  was  warned  of  the  thinge, 
And  with  Heleine'  forth  she  came 
Ayein  the  Kinge,  and  he  tho  name  r> 


Hole,  called. 
Not,  know  not. 
Tkrnve,  space  of  time. 
Bont,  petition. 
Name,  took. 


Good  hede,  and  whan  he  sigh  his 

wife, 

Anone  with  all  his  herte's  life 
He  caught  her  in  his  armes  and 

kiste. 

Was  never  wight  that  sigh  ne  wiste * 
A  man  that  more*  joie*  made, 
Wherof  they  weren  alld  glade 
Which  herdd  tellen  of  this  chaunce. 
This  King  tho  with  his  wife  Con- 

stdnce, 

Whiche  had  a  great  part  of  his  will, 
In  Romd  for  a  time*  still 
Abode  and  made  him  well  at  ese. 
But  so  yet  couth  he  never  plese 
His  wife,  that  she  him  wolde'  saine 
Of  her  estate  the  trouthe'  pleine, 
Of  what  centre'  that  she  was  bore 
Ne  what  she  was,  and  yet  therfore 
With  all  his  wit  he  hath  done  seke. 
Thus   as   they  ligh  in  bedde  and 

speke, 
She  praith    him    and    counsefleth 

both, 

That  for  the  worship  of  hem  both 
So  that  her  thought  it  were  honeste 
He  wolde  an  honourable  feste 
Make  er  he  went  in  that  citee, 
Where  themperour  him  self  shall 

be. 
He   graunteth    all    that    she    him 

praide. 

But  as  men  in  that  timd  saide, 
This  emperour,  fro  thilkd  day 
That  first  his  doughter  went  away, 
He  was  than  after  never  gladde, 
But  what  that  any  man  him  badde 
Of  grace'  for  his  doughter  sake 
That  grace  wolde  he  nought  for 
sake,2 

And  thus  ful  great  alme'sse  he  dede, 
Wherof  he  haddd  many  a  bede.8 

1  Sigh  ne  wistf,  saw  or  knew. 
3  Forsake,  refuse. 

2  Retit,  prayer. 


n6 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


"This  Emperour  out  of  the  towne, 
"Within  a  ten  mile  enviroune, 
Where  as  it  thought  him  for  the 

beste 

Hath  sondry  places  for  to  reste, 
And  as  fortune  wolde  tho 
He  was  dwellend  at  one  of  tho. 
The  kinge  Alice  forth  with  thassent 
Of  Custe  his  wife  hath  thider  sent 
Morfce  his  sone,  as  he  was  taught, 
To     themperour,     and     he     goth 

straught 

And  in  his  fader  halve1  he  sought 
As  hewhiche  of  his  lordship  sought, 
That  of  his  highe  worthinesse 
He  wolde  do  so  great  mekenesse 
His  owne  town  to  come  and  se 
And  yive  a  time  in  the  citee, 
So  that  his  fader  might  him  gete 
That  he  wolde  one's  with  him  ete. 
This  lorde  hath  graunted  his  re- 

queste. 

And  whan  the  day  was  of  the  feste, 
In  worship  of  her  2  Emperour 
The  kinge  and  eke  the  senatour 
Forth  with  her  wives  bothe  two, 
With  many  a  lorde  and  lady  mo, 
On  hors  gan  riden  him  ayeine, 
Till  it  befell  upon  a  pleine 
They  sigh  where  as  he  was  comend. 
With  that  Constance  anone  praiend 
Spake  to  her  lord  that  he  abide, 
*  So  that  I  may  to-fore  ride 
To  ben  upon  his  bienvenue  3 
The  firste  which  shall  him  salue.' 
And  thus  after  her  lordes  graunte 
Upon  a  mule  white  amblaunte 
Forth  with  a  fewe  rode  this  queue. 
They   wondred    what    she    wolde 

mene, 

And  riden  after  softd  pas. 
But  whan  this  lady  comen  was 
To  themperour,  in  his  presence 

1  On  his  father's  behalf.  2  ffer>  the;n 

3  JHenvenue,  welcome. 


She  saide  aloude  in  audience  : 
'  My  lord,  my  fader,  wel  you  be  ! 
And  of  this  time  that  I  se 
Your  honour  and  your  gode  hele, 
Whiche  is  the  helpe  of  my  quarele, 
I  thonke  unto  the  goddes  might.' 
For  joie  his  herte  was  aflight 
Of  that  she  tolde  in  remembraunce. 
And  whan  he  wiste,  it  was   Con 
stance, 

Was  never  fader  half  so  blithe. 
Wepend  he  kiste  her  often  sithe, 
So  was  his  hert  all  overcome, 
For  though  his  moder  were  come 
Fro  deth  to  life  out  of  the  grave, 
He  might  no  more  wonder  have 
Than  he  hath  whan  that  he  her 

sigh. 

With  that  her  owne  lord  come  nigh 
And  is  to  themperour  obeied. 
And  whan  the  fortune  is  bewreied,1 
How    that     Constance     is     come 

aboute, 

So  harde  an  herte  was  none  oute 
That  he  for  pite  tho  ne  wepte. 
Arcennus    which    her    fonde    and 

kepte 

Was  thanne  glad  of  that  is  falle, 
So  that  with  joie  among  hem  alle 
They  riden  in  at  Rome  gate. 
This  Emperour  thought  all  to  late, 
Till  that  the  Pope  were  come 
And  of  the  lordes  sende  some 
To  pray  him  that  he  wolde  haste. 
And  he  cam  forth  in  alle  haste, 
And  whan  that  he  this  tale  herde, 
How  wonderly  this  chaunce  ferde, 
He  thonketh  god  of  his  mirdcle, 
To  whos  might  may  be  none  ob 
stacle. 

The  King  a  noble  feste  hem  made, 
And  thus  they  weren  alle  glad. 
A  parlement  er  that  they  went 
They  setten,  unto  this  entent, 

1  Beti'veied)  disclosed. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


117 


To  putten  Rome  in  full  espeire,1 
That  Morfce  was  apparant  heire 
And  shulde  abide  with  hem  stille, 
For  such  was  all  the  londes  wille. 
"Whan  every  thing  was   fully 

spoke 
Of  sorwe  and  queint 2  was  all  the 

smoke, 

Tho  toke  his  leve  Alice  the  Kinge 
And  with  full  many  a  riche*  thinge 
Which  themperoiir  him  hadde 

yive 

He  goth  a  gladde  life  to  live. 
For  he  Constance  hath  in  his  honde, 
Which  was  the  comfort  of  the  londe. 
For  whan  that  he  cam  home  ayein, 
There  is  no  tunge"  that  might  sain, 
What  joie  was  that  ilke  stounde 
Of  that  he  hath  his  quene  founde, 
Which  first  was  sent  of  Goddes 

sonde  3 
Whan   she  was  driven   upon   the 

stronde, 

By  whom  the  misbeleve  of  sinne 
Was  lefte  and  Cristes  feith  came 

inne 

To  hem  that  whilome  were  blinde. 
But  he,  which  hindreth  every  kinde 
And  for  no  gold  may  be  forbought, 
The  Deth,  comend  er  he  besought 
Toke  with  this  king  such  acquein- 

taunce 

That  he  with  all  his  retenaunce 
Ne  mighte'  nought  defend  his  life  ; 
And  thus  he  parteth  from  his  wife 
Which  thanne'  made  sorwe  inough. 
And  therupon  her  herte  drough 
To  leven  Enge'lond  for  ever 
And  go  where  that  she  hadde"  lever, 
To  Rome  whannd  4  that  she  came. 
And  thus  of  all  the  lond  she  nam  5 

1  Espeire,  hope. 

a  Qneint,  quenched  ;  and  all  the  smoke  of 
sorrow  was  quenched. 
a  Sonde,  sending.        4  Whanne,  whence. 
*  Nam,  took. 


Her  leve,  and  goth  to  Rome  ayein. 
And  after  that  the  bokes  sain 
She  was  nought  there  but  a  throwe 
Whan  Deth,  of  kinde,1  hath  over- 

throwe 

Her  worthy  fader,  which  men  saide 
That  he  betwene  her  antic's  deide. 
And  afterward  the  yere  suende 
Tho  God  hath  made  of  her  an  ende, 
And  fro  this  worldes  fairie2 
Hath  take  her  into  compaignie. 

"  Mori'ce  her  sond  was  corouned, 
Which  so  ferforth  was  abandouned 
To  Criste's  feith  that  men  him 

calle 

Morfce  the  Christenest  of  alle. 
And  thus  the  whel  meving  of  Love 
Was  atte  laste  set  above. 
And  so,  as  thou  hast  herd  to-fore, 
The  false  lunge's  weren  lore3 
Whiche  upon  Love*  wolden  lie. 
Forthy  touchend  of  this  Envie, 
Which  longeth  unto  Bakbitinge, 
Be  ward  thou  make  no  lesfnge 
In  hindring  of  another  wight. 
And  if  thou  wolt  be  taught  aright, 
What  mischefe  Bakbitinge  doth, 
By  other  waie  a  tale  soth 
Now  might  thou  herd  next  suende, 
Which  to  this  Vice  is  accordende. 
"  gn  a  cronique  as  thou  shalt 

wite 

A  great  ensample  I  finde  write, 
Whiche    I    shall    telle   upon    this 

thinge. 

Philip  of  Macedoine  Kinge 
Two  sones  hadde  by  his  wife, 
Whose  fame'  yet  in  Grece  is  rife. 
Demetrius  the  firstd  brother 
Was  hote  4  and  Perseus  that  other. 
Demetrius  men  saiden  tho  5 
The  better  knight  was  of  the  two, 

1  Of  kinde,  in  the  course  of  Nature. 
'-'  J''nirit,  changes  and  illusions. 
a  Lore,  lost.  *  Hote,  called. 

5  Tho,  then. 


nS 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


To  whom  the  lond  was  attendant 
As  he,  whiche  heir  was  apparant 
To  regne  after  his  faders  day. 
But  that  thing  which  no  water  may 
Ouenche  in   this  world,  but  ever 

brenneth, 

Into  his  brothers  hert  it  renneth, 
The  proud  Envie  of  that  he  sighe  l 
His  brother  shulde  climbe  on  highe 
And  he  to  him  mot  than  obeie; 
That  may  he  suffre  by  no  waie, 
With  strengthe  durst  he  no  thing 

fonde," 

So  toke  he  lesinge  upon  honde 
When   he    sigh   time,  and  spake 

therto. 

For  it  befell  that  time  so 
His  fader  grete  werres  hadde 
With  Rome,  whiche  he  streite  ladde 
Through  mighty  hond  of  his  man- 

hod, 

As  he  which  hath  inoughknighthod, 
And  ofte  hem  hadde  fore  greved. 
But  er  the  werre  were  acheved, 
As  he  was  upon  ordenaunce 
At    home   in    Grece,    it   fell   par 

chaunce 

Demetrius,  whiche  ofte  aboute 
Ridend  was,  stode  that  time  out, 
So  that  this  Perse  in  his  absence, 
Which  bar  the  tunge  of  pestilence 
With    false    wordes    whiche     he 

feigneth 

Upon  his  owne  brother  pleineth 
In  privete  behinde  his  bake, 
And  to  his  fader  thus  he  spake : 

'  My  dere  fader,  I  am  holde 
By  way  of  kinde,  as  reson  wolde, 
That  I  fro  you  shall  nothing  hide 
Which  mighte  torne  in  any  side 
Of  youre  estate  into  grevaunce. 
Forthy  min  hertes  obeisaunce 
As  toward  you  I  thenke  kepe. 

1  Sighe,  saw. 

2  Fotide,  try. 


For  it  is  good  ye  take  kepc  ! 
Upon  a  thing 'whiche  is  me  tolde. 
My  brother  hath  us  alle  solde 
To  hem  of  Rome,  and  you  also. 
For  thanne  they  behote  2  him  so 
That  he  with  hem  shall  regne  in 

pees. 

Thus  hath  he  cast,  for  his  encres, 
That  your  estate  shall  go  to  nought. 
And  this  to  prove  shall  be  brought 
So  ferforth  that  I  undertake 
It  shall  nought  wel  mow  be  for 
sake.'  y 
"The     kinge     upon    this     tale 

answerd 
And  said,  '  If  this  thing  which  he 

herd 
Be  soth  and  may  be  brought  to 

prove, 

It  shall  nought  be  to  his  behove  4 
Which  so  has  shapen  us  the  werste, 
For  he  him  self  shall  be  the  ferste 
That  shall  be  dede,  if  that  I  may.' 
Thus  afterwarde  upon  a  day, 
Whan  that  Demetrius  was  come, 
Anone  his  fader  hath  him  nome  5 
And  bad  unto  his  brother  Perse, 
That  he  his  tale  shall  reherse 
Of  thilke  treson  whiche  he  tolde. 
And  he  whiche  all  untrouthe  wolde 
Counseileth  that  so  high  a  nede 
Be  treted  where  as  it  may  spede, 
In  comun  place  of  jugement. 
The  King  therto  yaf  his  assent. 

"  Demetrius  was  put  in  holde, 
Wherof  that  Perseus  was  bolde. 
Thus  stood  the  trouth  under  the 

charge 

And  the  falsehede  goth  at  large, 
Which  through  behest  hath  over 
come 
The  greatest  of  the  lordes  some, 

1  Takfkepe,  take  heed. 

"  Behote,  promised.          3  J<\>rsake,  denied. 

4  Behove,  advantage.       5  Nome,  taken. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


119 


That  privelichc  of  his  accordc 
They  stonde  as  witncsse  of  recordc, 
The  juge  was  made  favour.lble  ; 
Thus  was  the  lawe  deceivdble 
So  ferforth  that  the  trouthd  foncie 
Rescousse' l   none,    and   thus    the 

londe 

Forth  with  the  King  deceive'd  were  : 
The  giltelec  was  dampned  there 
And  deide  upon  accusement. 
But  suche  a  fals  conspirement, 
Though  it  be  prive  for  a  throwe,- 
God  wolde  nought  it  were  unknovve, 
And  that  was  afterward  wel  proved 
In  him  which  hath  the  deth  con- 

troved 

Of  that  his  brother  was  so  slaine. 
This  Perseus  was  wonder  faine 
As  he  that  tho  was  apparent 
Upon  the  regne3  and  expectant, 
Wherof  he  wax  so  proude  and  veine 
That  he  his  fader  in  disdeigne 
Hath  take,  and  sette  at  none  ac- 

compte, 
As  he  which  thought  him  to  sur- 

mounte, 

That  where  he  was  first  debonaire 
He  was  tho  rebell  and  contraire, 
And  nought  as  heir  but  as  a  kinge 
He  toke  upon  him  alle  thinge 
Of  malice  and  of  tirannie 
In  contempte  of  regalitie 
Livend  his  fader,  and  so  wrought 
That  whan  the  fader  him  bethought 
And  sighe  to  whether  side  itdrough, 
Anone  he  wiste*  we'll  inough 
How  Perse  after  his  false  tonge 
Hath  so  thenvfous  belle*  ronge, 
That  he  hath  slain  his  owne  brother ; 
Wherof  as  thanne  he  knew  none 

other 
But  sodeinly  the  juge  he  nome  4 

1  Kt-sctiiisst*,  rescue. 

-'  Thrmve,  space  of  time. 

::  Heir  apparent  to  the  kingdom. 

4  Nome,  took. 


Which  corrupt  sat  upon  the  dome,1 
In  suche  a  wise  and 2  hath  him 

pressed 

That  he  the  soth  him  hath   con 
fessed 

Of  all  that  hath  beu  spoke  and  do. 
More  sory  than  the  king  was  tho 
Was  never  man  upon  this  molde, 
And   thought    in    certain  that  he 

wolde 

Vengeaunce  take  upon  this  wronge. 
But  thother  partie  was  so  stronge, 
That  for  the  lawe  of  no  statute 
There  may  no  right  ben  execute. 
And  upon  this  division 
The  lond  was  torned  up  so  downc, 
Wherof  his  herte  is  so  distraught 
That  he  for  pure  sorwe  hath  caught 
The  maladie  of  which  nature 
Is  queint3  in  every  creature. 

"And  whan  this  King  was  passed 

thus, 

This  false  tunged  Perseus 
The  regiment 4  hath  underfonge. 
But  there  may  nothing  stonde  longc 
Whiche    is    nought    upon    trouthe 

grounded. 
For    God,   which    hath   al   thinge 

bounded 

And  sigh  5  the  falsehed  of  his  guile, 
Hath  set  him  but  a  litel  while 
That  he  shall  regne  upon  depose, 
For  sodeinlich  right  as  a  rose 
So  sodeinliche  down  he  felle. 

"  In  thilkd  time,  so  it  befelle, 
This  newe*  King  of  newe'  pride 
With  strengthe  shope  him  for  to 

ride0 

And  saide  he  wolde  Rome  waste  ; 
Wherof  he  made  a  besy  haste, 


1   Upon  the  dome,  in  judgment. 

-  And  in  such  a  wise. 

3  O/wkich  nature  is  guc fttt,  by  which  nature 
is  extinguished  (caught  his  death). 

*  Regiment^  rule.  <•  Sig/t,  saw. 
<;  Ride,  make  raid. 


I2O 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  hath  assembled  him  an  host 
In  all  that  ever  he  might  most, 
What  man  that  mighte*  wepen  here 
Of  all  he  wolde  none  forbere. 
So  that  itmighte  nought  benombred 
The  folke  which  was  after  encom- 

bred 

Through  him  that  God  wolde  over 
throw. 

"  Anon  it  was  at  Rome  know 
The  pompe,  which  that  Perse  lad, 
And  the  Romaines  that  time  had 
A  consul  which  was  clepe'd  thus 
By  name  Paul  Emilius, 
A  noble,  a  worthy  knight  withalle, 
And  he  which  chef  was  of  hem  alle 
This  werre  on  honde  hath  under 
take. 

And  whan  he  shulde  his  leve  take 
Of  a  yong  doughter  which  was  his, 
She  wepte,  and  he  what  cause  it  is 
Her  axeth,  and  she  him  answerde, 
'  That  Perse  is  dede ; '  and  he  it 

herde 
And    wondreth    what    she    mene 

wolde. 

And  she  upon  childehod  him  tolde, 
That  Perse,  her  litel  hounde,  is 

dede. 

With  that  he  pulleth  up  his  hede 
And  made  right  a  glad  visage 
And  said,  how  it  was  a  presage 
Touchend  unto  that  other  Perse, 
Of  that  Fortune  him  shulde  adverse. 
He  saith  for  suche  a  prenostike 
Most  of  an  hound  was  to  him  like, 
For  as  it  is  an  houndes  kinde 
To  berke  upon  a  man  behinde, 
Right  so  behinde  his  brothers  bake 
With  false  wordes  whiche  he  spake 
He  hath  do  slaine,  and.that  is  routh. 
But  he  whiche  hateth  all  untrouth 
The  highe  God  it  shall  redresse, 
For  so  my  doughter  prophetesse 
Forth  with  her  litel  hounde's  dethe 


Betokeneth;  and  thus  forth  he  geth 
Comfdrted  of  this  evidence 
With  the  Remains  in  his  defence 
Ayein  the  Grekes  that  ben  comende. 
This  Perseus,  as  nought  seende 
This    mischef    which     that     him 

abode, 

With  all  his  multitude  rode 
And  prided  him  upon  this  thinge, 
Of  that  he  was  become  a  Kinge, 
And  howe  he  had  his  regne  gete. 
But  he  hath  all  the  right  foryete 
Which  longeth  unto  governaunce, 
Wherof    through     Goddes     orde- 

naunce 

It  felle  upon  the  winter  tide 
That  with  his  hoste  he  shulde  ride 
Over  Danubie  thilke  flood, 
Whiche  all  befrose  thanne  stood 
So  harde,  that  he  wende  wele 
To  passe.     But  the  blinde  whele, 
Which    torneth    ofte    er   men  be 

ware 
Thilke  ice  which  that  the  horsmen 

bare 

To-brake,  so  that  a  great  partie 
Was  dreint l  of  the  chivalerie  ; 
The  rerewarde  it  toke  aweie, 
Came  none  of  hem  to  londe  drey.2 
"  Paulus,    this    worthy    knight 

Romain, 

By  his  aspie  it  herde  sain, 
And  hasteth  him  all  that  he  may, 
So  that  upon  that  other  day  3 
He  came  where  he  this  host  behelde, 
And  that  was  in  a  large  felde, 
Wherein  the  banners  ben  displaied. 
He  hath  anone  his  men  arraied, 
And  whan  that  he  was  embatailed 
He  goth  and  hath  the  felde  assailed 
And  slough  and  toke  all  that  he 

fonde, 
Wherof  the  Macedonie  londe 

1  Dreint,  drowned.  2  Dry  land. 

3  That  other  day,  the  second  day. 


BOOK  II. —ENVY. 


121 


Which,   through   king  Alisaundre 

honoured 

Long  time  stood,  tho  was  devoured  ; 
To  Perse  and  all  that  infortune 
They  wite',1  so  that  the  comune 
Of  all  the  londe  his  heire  exile  : 
And  he  dispeired  2  for  the  while 
Uesguised  in  a  pouer  wede 
To  Rome'  goth  •  and  there,  for  nede, 
The  craft  which  thilke  time  was 
To  worche  in  laton  3  and  in  bras 
He  lerneth  for  his  sustenaunce. 
Such  was  the  sends  purveiaunce. 
And  of  his  fader  it  is  saide, 
In  strong  pris6n  that  he  was  laide 
In  Albd,  where  that  he  was  dede 
For  hunger  and  defaulte  of  brede. 
The  hounde  was  token  and  pro- 

phecie 

That  liche  an  hounde  he  shuldd  deie 
Which  lich  was  of  conditi6n 
Whan  he  with  his  detraction 
Barke  on  his  brother  so  behinde. 

"  Lo,  whatprofft  a  man  may  finde, 
Which  hinder  woll  an  other  wight. 
Forthy  with  all  thin  hole  might, 
My  sone,  escheue'  thilke  vice."  — 
"  My  fader,  die's  were  I  nice. 
For  ye  therfore  so  well  have  spoke, 
That  it  is  in  min  hertd  loke 
And  ever  shall  ;  but  of  Envie, 
If  there  be  more  in  his  bailie4 
Towarde's  Love',  say  me  what."  — 

"  My  sone,  as  guile  under  the  hat 
With  sleighte's  of  a  tregetour  r> 
Is  hid,  Envie  of  such  colour 
Hath  yet  the  fourth^  deceivaunt, 
The  whiche  is  clepe'd  Fals   Sem- 

blaunt, 
Wherof  the  mater  and  the  forme 


1  And  to  Perseus  they  give  the  blame  for  all 
that  misfortune. 
a  Dispeired^  in  despair. 
•"*  LatpH,  latten,  brass  with  an  alloy  of  tin. 

4  Jfailie,  government. 

5  Tregetour,  sleight-of-hand  man. 


Nowe  herken,  and  I  thee  shall  en- 
forme. 
"  $f  fate  scmblaunt  if  I  shall 

telle 

Above  all  other  it  is  the  welle 
Out  of  the  which  deceipte'  floweth. 
There   is    no   man   so   wise   that 

knoweth 

Of  thilkd  flood  whiche  is  the  tide, 
Nehowe  he  shulde  him  selven  guide 
To  takd  sauf  passdge  there. 
And  yet  the  wind  to  manne's  ere 
Is  softe,  and  as  it  semeth  oute 
It  maketh  clere  weder  all  aboute. 
But  though  it  seme,  it  is  nought  so. 
For  Fals  Semblaunt  hath  ever  mo 
Of  his  counseil  in  compaignie 
The  derke  untrewe  Ypocrisie 
Whose    word     discordeth     to    his 

thought. 

Forthy  they  ben  to-gider  brought 
Of  one  covme,  of  one  housholde, 
As  it  shall  after  this  be  tolde. 
Of    Fals     Semblaunt    it     nedeth 

nought 

To  telle  of  olde  ensamples  ought. 
For  all  day  in  experience 
A  man  may  see  thilke  evidence 
Of  faire  worded,  whiche  he  hereth. 
But  yet  the  barge  Envie*  stereth 
And  halt l  it  ever  fro  the  londe, 
Where  Fals  Semblaunt  with  ore  in 

honde 

It  roweth  and  will  nought  arrive 
But  let  it  on  the  wawds  drive 
In  great  tempest  and  great  debate, 
Wherof  that  Love  and  his  estate 
Empeireth.-     And  therfdre  I  rede, 
My  sond,  that  thou  fle  and  drede 
This  Vice  and,  what  that  other  sain, 
Let  thy  semblaunt  be  trewe  and 

plein. 

For  Fals  Semblaunt  is  thilke'  Vice, 
Which  never  was  without  offfce, 

1  Halt,  holds.        2  Empeireth,  are  impaired. 


122 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Where  that  Envie  thenketh  to  guile 
He  shall  be  for  that  ilke  while 
Of  prive  counseil  messagere. 
For  whan  his  semblaunt  is  most 

clere 
Than    is    he    most   derke    in  his 

thought ; 
Though  men  him  se,  they  knowe 

him  nought. 

But  as  it  sheweth  in  the  glas 
Thing  which  therinne  never  was, 
So  sheweth  it  in  his  visdge 
That  never  was  in  his  cordge.1 
Thus   doth    he    all    his    thing  by 

sleighte. 

Now  lith  thy  conscience  in  weighte, 
My  gode    sone,  and    shrive  thee 

here 

If  thou  were  ever  custumere 
To  Fals  Semblaunt  in  anywise." — 
"For  ought  I  can  me  yet  avise, 
My  gode  fader,  certes  no  ; 
If  I  for  love  have  ought  don  so, 
Now  axeth,  I  wolde  pray  you. 
For  elles  I  wot  never  how 
Of  Fals   Semblaunt   that   I   have 

gilt."2— 
"  My   sone,    and   sithen :J    that 

thou  wilt 

That  I  shall  axe,  gabbe  nought, 
But  telle  if  ever  was  thy  thought 
With  Fals  Semblaunt  and  Cover 
ture 

To  wite  of  any  creature 
How  that  he  was  with  love  ladde, 
So  were  he  sory,  were  he  gladde. 
Whan  than  thou  wistest  howe  it 

were, 

All  that  he  rouned  4  in  thin  ere 
Thou  toldest  forth  in  other  place 

1  That  which  never  was  in  the  thought  of 
hi*  heart.  Courage  was  any  feeling  from  the 
heart.  When  the  small  birds  make  melody, 
says  Chaucer,  '  so  pricketh  hem  Nature  in  her 
corages,'  that  is,  they  sing  with  all  their  hearts. 

a  Gilt,  been  guilty.  3  Sithen,  since. 

4  Rouned,  whispered. 


To  setten  him  fro  Loves  grace 
Of  what  woma'n  that  thee  best  liste, 
There  as  no  man  his  counseil  Aviste 
But  thou,  by  whom  he  was  deceived 
Of  love,    and    from    his    purpose 

weived,1 
And  thoughtest  that  his    disturb- 

aunce 

Thin  owne*  cause  shuld  avaunce, 
As  who  saith  I  am  so  sely  2 
There  may  no  manne's  privete 
Ben  heled  3  half  so  well  as  min. 
Art  thou,  my  sone,  of  suche  engin  ? 
Tell  on." — "  My  godd  fader,  nay, 
As  for  the  more  part,  I  saie. 
But  of  somedele  I  am  beknowe4 
That  I  may  stonde  in  thilke  rowe 
Amonges  hem  that  saundres5  use. 
I  woll  nought  me  therof  excuse, 
That  I  with  such  colour  ne  steine, 
Whan  I  my  beste  semblant  feigne 
To  my  feldw,  till  that  I  wote 
All  his  counseil  both  colde  and  hote. 
For  by  that  cause  I  make  him  chere 
Till  I  his  love  knowe  and  here. 
And  if  so  be  min  herte  soucheth0 
That  ought  unto  my  lady  toucheth 
Of  love  that  he  woll  me  telle, 
Anon  I  renne  unto  the  welle 
And  caste  water  in  the  fire, 
So  that  his  cart  amid  the  mire 
By  that  I  have  his  counseil  knowe 
Full  ofte  sith  7  I  overthrowe 
Whan  that  he  weneth  best  to  stonde. 
But  this  I  do  you  understonde,8 
If  that  a  man  love  die's  where, 
So  that  my  lady  be  nought  there, 
And  he  me  tell,  I  will  it  hide, 
There  shall  no  worde  escape  aside. 
For  with  deceipt  of  no  semblaunt 

1  Weived,  put  aside.  2  Sely,  simple. 

3  Heled,  concealed. 

4  I  confess  as  to  some  part. 

•*>  Sanndres,  sandal  wood  (as  a  dye). 

6  Soucheth,  suspects. 

7  Oft 6  sith,  oftentimes. 

8  Do  you,  make  you  to  understand. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


123 


To  him  broke  I  no  covenaunt. 
Me  liketh  nought  in  other  place- 
To  lettd  no  man  of  his  grace, 
Ne  for  to  ben  inquisitffe 
To  knowe  an  other  marine's  life, 
Where  that  he  love  or  love  nought 
That     toucheth     nothing     to    my 

thought, 

But  all  it  passeth  through  min  ere 
Right  as  a  thing  that  never  were 
And  is  foryete  and  laid  beside. 
But  if  it  toucheth  any  side 
My  lady,  as  I  have  er  spoken, 
Min  ere"s  ben  nought  thanne  loken. 
For  certes  whanne*  that  betit,1 
My  will,  min  herte  and  all  my  wit 
Ben  fully  set  to  herken  and  spire  - 
What  any  man  woll  speke  of  hire. 
Thus  have  I  feigned  compaignie 
Full  ofte*  for3  I  wolde  aspie 
What  thinge  it  is  that  any  man 
Tell  of  my  worthy  lady  can. 
And  for  two  causes  I  do  this. 
The  firste*  cause*  wherof  is, 
If  that  I  might  of  herken  and  seke 
That  any  man  of  her  misspeke, 
I  woll  excuse  her  so  fully 
That  whan  she  wist  it  inderly,4 
Min  hope  shulde  be  the  more 
To  have  her  thank  for  evermore. 
That  other  cause,  I  you  assure, 
Is,  why  that  I  by  coverture 
Have  feigned  semblaunt  oftd  time 
To  hem  that  passen  all  day  by  me 
And  ben  lovers  als  well  as  I, 
For  this  I  wene  truely, 
That  there  is  of  hem  alle  none, 
That  they  ne  loven  everychoric 
My  lady.      For  sothlfch  I  leve  5 
And  durste  setten  it  in  preve, 
Is  none  so  wise  that  shulde  as- 

terte,6 

1  Betit,  betides. 

-  S/>irc,  speir,  seek  narrowly. 

3  J''or,  because.  *  JitJerfy,  thoroughly. 

8  Leve,  believe.  G  Asterte,  escape. 


But1  he  were  lustics  iu  his  herte, 
For  why  and  he  my  lady  sigh,- 
Her  visage  and  her  goodlich  eye, 
But  he  her  love'd  er  he  went. 
And  for  that  suche  is  min  entent, 
That  is  the  cause  of  min  aspie, 
Why  that  I  feigne  compaignie 
And  make  felowe  over  all. 
For  gladly  wolde  I  knowen  all 
And  holdd  me  covert  alway, 
That  I  full  ofte  ye  or  nay 
Ne  list  answere  in  any  wise, 
But  feignen  semblaunt  as  the  wise 
And  herken  tales,  till  I  knowe 
My  ladies  lovers  all  arowe. 
And  whan  I  here  how  they  have 

wrought, 

I  fare  as  though  I  herd  it  nought 
And  as  I  no  worde  understood. 
But  that  is  nothing  for  her  good, 
For  leveth  well,  the  soth  is  this, 
That  whan  I  knowe  all  how  it  is, 
I  woll  nought  furthren  hem  a  lite 
But  all  the  werste  I  can  endue 
I  tell  it  unto  my  lady  plat 
For  furthering  of  min  own  estate 
And  hinder  hem  all  that  I  may. 
But  for  all  that  yet  dare  I  say 
I  finde  unto  my  self  no  bote, 
All  though  min  herte  nede's  mote, 
Through  strength  of  love,  all  that 

I  here 

Discover  unto  my  lady  dere. 
For  in  good  feith  I  have  no  might 
To  ncle" a  fro  that  swete  wight 
If  that  it  toucheth  her  any  thinge. 
But  this  wote  wel  the  heven  kinge, 
That  sithen  first  the  world  began 
Unto  none  other  straunge  man 
Ne  feigned  I  semblaunt  ne  chere 
To  wite  or  axe  of  his  matere, 
Though  that  he  loved  ten  or  twelve 
Whan  it  was  nought  my  ladies  selve. 

1  But,  unless.  -  If  he  saw  my  lady. 

3  Hcle,  conceal. 


124 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  if  he  wold  axe  any  rede 
Alonlich  of  his  owne  hede, 
How  he  with  other  love  ferde, 
His  tales  with  min  eres  I  herde 
But  to  min  herte  came  it  nought 
Ne  sank  no  deper  in  my  thought, 
But  held  counseil  as  I  was  bede, 
And  tolde  it  never  in  other  stede,1 
But  let  it  passen  as  it  come. 
Now  fader,  say,  what  is  thy  dome, 
And    how    thou    wolt    that    I    be 

peined  2 
For   such   semblaunt    as    I    have 

feigned."— 
"My    sone,    if   reson    woll   be 

peised,3 
There    may    no    Vertue   ben    un- 

preised 

Ne  Vice  none  be  set  in  prise. 
Forthy,  my  sone,  if  thou  be  wise 
Do  no  viser  upon  thy  face 
Which    wolde    nought    thin    hert 

embrace. 

For  if  thou  do,  within  a  throwe 
To  other  men  it  shall  be  knowe, 
So  might  thou  lightly  fall  in  blame 
And  lese  a  great  part  of  thy  name. 
And  netheles  in  this  degre 
Full  ofte  time  thou  might  se 
Of  suche  men  as  now  a  day 
This  Vice  setten  in  assay, 
I  speke  it  for  no  mannes  blame 
But  for  to  warne"  thee  the  same. 
My  sone,  as  I  may  here  talke 
In  every  place  where  I  walke, 
I  not4  if  it  be  so  or  none 
But  it  is  many  daies  gone 
That  I  first  herde  telle  this, 
How  Fals  Semblaunt  hath  be  and  is 
Most  comunly  from  yere  to  yere 
With  hem  that  dwelle  among  us 

here 
Of  suche  as  we  Lumbardes  calle. 

1  Stede,  place.        2  />„««/,  put  to  penance. 
>  Peised,  weighed.  4  j\f0^  know  not. 


For  they  ben  the  sliest  of  alle 
So  as  men  sain  in  towne  about 
To  feigne  and  sheue  thing  without 
Whiche  is  revers  to  that  withinne, 
Wherof  that  they  full  ofte  winne 
Whan  they  by  reson  shulde  lese. 
They  ben  the  last,  and  yet  they 

chese, 

And  we  the  firste,  and  yet  behinde 
We  gone  there  as  we  shulden  finde 
The  profit  of  our  owne  londe, 
Thus    gone    they   free    withouten 

bonde 

To  done  her  profit  all  at  large, 
And  other  men  bere  all  the  charge. 
Of  Lumbardes  unto  this  covine 
Whiche  alle  londes  conne  engine  * 
May  Fals  Semblaunt  in  especidll 
Be  likened,  for  they  over  all 
Where  that  they  thenken  for  to 

dwelle, 

Among  hem  self,  so  as  they  telle, 
First  ben  enformed  for  to  lere  2 
A  craft  which  cleped  is  Facrere.3 
For  if  Facrere  come  about 
Than  afterward  hem  stant  no  doubt 
To  voide  with  a  subtil  honde 
The  beste  goodes  of  the  londe, 
And  bringe  chaffe  and  take  corne. 
Where  as  Facrere  goth  beforne 
In  all  his  waie  he  fint  no  lette, 
That  dore  can  none  ussher  shette, 
In  whiche  he  list  to  take  entre. 
And  thus  the  counseil  most  secre 
Of  every  thing  Facrere  knoweth 
Whiche    into    straunge    place    he 

bloweth 
Where  as  he  wote4  it  may  most 

greve. 

And  thus  Facrere  maketh  beleve. 
So  that  full  ofte  he  hath  deceived 
Er  that  he  may  ben  apperceived. 

1  To  this  secret  contrivance  of  the  Lombards, 
who  can  outwit  all  nations. 

2  Lere,  learn.          3  Facrere,  dissimulation. 

4  Wote,  knows. 


BOOK  IL-ENVY. 


125 


Thus  is  this  Vice  for  to  drede, 
For  who  these  olde*  boke"s  rede 
Of  suche  ensamples  as  were  er, 
Him  oughte  be  the  more  ware 
Of  alle*  tho  that  feigne*  chere, 
Wherof  thou  shalte  a  tald  here. 
"  {£)f  fats  scmblant  whiche  is 

beleved, 

Ful  many  a  worthy  wight  is  greved 
And  was  long  time  or1  we  were 

bore. 

To  thee,  my  sone,  I  will  therfore 
A  tate  tell  of  Fals  Semblaunt 
Which  falseth  many  a  covenaunt 
And  many  a  fraude  of  fals  counsel! 
There  ben  hange'nd  upon  his  sail. 
And  that  aboughten  gilte'les 
Both  Deianire  and  Hercules, 
The  whiche  in  great  disese*  fell 
Through  Fals  Semblaunt,  as  I  shall 

tell. 

"Whan  Hercules  within  a  throwe 
All  only  hath  his  herte'  throwe 
Upon  this  faire  Deianire, 
It  fell  him  on  a  day  desire, 
Upon  a  river  as  he  stood, 
That  passe  he  wolde  over  the  flood 
Withoute  bote  and  with  him  lede 
His  love,  but  he  was  in  drede 
For  tendresse  of  that  swete  wight, 
For  he  knewe    nought  the   forde 

aright. 

There  was  a  geaunt  thanne  nigh, 
Which  Nessus  hight,  and  whan  he 

sigh 

This  Hercules  and  Deianire, 
Within  his  herte  he  gan  conspire 
As  he  which  through  his  trecherie 
Hath  Hercules  in  great  envie, 
Whiche  he  bare  in  his  herte  loke, 
And  than  he  thought  it  shall  be 

wroke. 

But  he  ne  durste*  nethe'les 
Ayein  this  worthie  Hercules 

1  Or,  ere. 


Fall  in  debate  as  for  to  feight, 
But  feigned  semblaunt  all  by  sleight 
Of  frendship  and  of  alld  good, 
And  cometh  where  as   they  both 

stood 

And  makethhemallthecherehe  can 
And  saith,  that  as  her  *  owne*  man 
He  is  all  redy  for  to  do 
What  thinge  he  may  ;  and  it  fel  so, 
That   they   upon    this    semblaunt 

triste  2 

And  axen  him,  if  that  he  wiste 
What  thinge  hem  were  best  to  done, 
So  that  they  mighten  sauf  and  sone 
The  water  passe,  he  and  she. 
And  whan  Nessus  the  private 
Knew  of  her  herte  what  it  ment, 
As  he  that  was  of  double  entent 
He  made  hem  right  a  glad  visdge. 
And  whan  he  herde  of  the  passdge 
Of  him  and  her,  he  thoughte  guile 
And  feigneth  semblant  for  a  while 
To  done  hem  plesaunce  and  servise, 
But  he  thought  all  an  other  wise. 
"This  Nessus  with  his  worde*s 

sligh 

Yaf  such  counseil  to-fore  her  eye, 
Which  semeth  outward  profitable 
And  was  withinne  deceivdble. 
He  bad  hem  of  the  streme's  depe 
That  they  beware  and  take  kepe, 
So  as  they  knowe  nought  the  pas. 
But  for  to  helpe  in  suche  a  cas 
He  saith  him  self,  that  for  her  ese 
He  wolde,  if  that  it  mighte  hem 

plese, 

The  passage  of  the  water  take 
And  for  this  lady  undertake 
To  bere  her  to  that  other  stronde 
And  sauf  to  set  her  up  a  londe, 
And  Hercules  may  than  also 
The  waie'  knowe,  how  he  shall  go. 
And  herto  they  accorden  all. 
But  what  as  after  shall  befall 


Her,  their. 


2  Tristf,  trust. 


126 


CONFESS  10  A  MANTIS. 


Well  paid  was  Hercules  of  this. 
And  this  geaunt  also  glad  is 
And  toke  this  lady  up  alofte 
And  set  her  on  his  shulder  softe 
And  in  the  flood  began  to  wade 
As  he  which  no  grucchinge  made, 
And  bare  her  over  sauf  and  sounde. 
But  whan  he  stood  on  drie'  grounde 
And  Hercules  was  fer  behinde, 
He  set  his  trouth  all  out  of  minde, 
Who  so  therof  be  lefe  or  loth 
With  Deianire  forth  he  goth, 
As  he  that  thoughte  to  dissever 
The  compaignie  of  hem  for  ever. 
Whan  Hercules  therof  toke  hede, 
As  faste  as  ever  he  might  him  spede 
He  hieth  after  in  a  thro  we. 
And  hapneth  that  he  had  a  bowe, 
The  whiche  in  alld  hast  he  bende, 
As  he  that  wolde  an  arwe  sende, 
Whiche  he  to-fore  had  envenimed. 
He  hath  so  well  his  shotte'  timed, 
That    he   him    through    the    body 

smette 

And  thus  the  false  wight  he  lette.i 
But  list  now,  suche  a  felonie. 
Whan  Nessus  wist  he  shulde  deie, 
He  toke  to  Deianire  his  sherte, 
Which  with  the  blood  was  of  his 

herte 

Through  out  disteigned  over  all, 
And  tolde  how  she  it  kepe'  shall 
And  prively  to  this  entent, 
That  if  her  lorde  his  herte'  went 
To  love  in  any  other  place, 
This  shert,  he  saith,  hath  suche  a 

grace, 

That  if  she  may  so  mochel  make 
That  he  the  sherte  upon  him  take, 
He  shall  all  other  lette  in  veine 
And  torne  unto  her  love  ayeine. 

"  Who  was  so  glad  but  Deianire  ? 
Her  thought  her  herte  was  on  a 

fire, 

1  Lette,  delayed,  stopped. 


Till  it  was  in  her  cofre  loke, 
So  that  no  word  therof  was  spoke. 
"The  dales  gone, the  yeres  passe, 
The  herte's  waxen  lasse  and  lasse 
Of  hem  that  ben  to  love  untrewe. 
This  Hercules  with  herte  newe 
His  love  hath  set  on  Eolen, 
And  therof  speken  alle  men. 
This  Eolen,  this  faire'  maide 
Was  as  men  thilke  time  saide 
The  kinges  doughter  of  Eurice. 
And  she  made  Hercules  so  nice 
Upon  her  love  and  so  assote,1 
That  he  him  clotheth  in  her  cote, 
And  she  in  his  was  clothed  ofte, 
And  thus  feblesse  is  set  alofte 
And  strengthe  was  put  under  fote. 
There  can  no  man  therof  do  bote. 
Whan    Deianire   hath    herd   this 

speche, 

There  was  no  sorwe  for  to  seche, 
Of  other  helpe*  wot  she  none 
But  goth  unto  her  cofre  anone, 
With  wepend  eye  and  wofull  herte 
She  toke  out  thilke  unhappy  sherte, 
As  she  that  wende  wel  to  do, 
And  brought  her  werke  aboute'  so, 
That  Hercules  this  shert  on  dede 
To    suche     entent    as     she     was 

bede 

Of  Nessus,  so  as  I  said  er. 
But  therof  was  she  nought  the  ner, 
As  no  fortune  may  be  weived, 
With  Fals  Semblant  she  was  de 
ceived. 
But   whan   she  wende"  best    have 

wonne, 

She  lost  all  that  she  hath  begonne. 
For  thilke  shert  unto  the  bone 
His  body  sette  a  fire  anone 
And   cleveth    so    it    may  nought 

twinne  2 
For  the  venim,  that  was  therinne. 

1  Assote,  made  to  dote. 

2  Twinne,  be  separated. 


BOOK  77. — ENVY. 


127 


And  lie  than  as  a  wilde  man 
Unto  the  highe  wode  he  ran, 
And  as  the  clerke  Ovide  telleth, 
The    grete    trees    to    grounde  he 

felleth 

With  strengthe  al  of  his  owne"  might 
And  made  an  hughe*  fire  upright 
And  lept  therin  him  self  at  ones 
And  brent  him  self  both  flessh  and 

bones  ; 
Which   thinge"   cam  through  Fals 

Semblaiint 

That  false"  Nessus  the  geaunt 
Made  unto  him  and  to  his  wife, 
Wherof  that  he  hath  lost  his  life, 
And  she  sory  for  evermo. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  er  thee  be  wo 
I  redd  be  wel  ware  therfore. 
For  whan  so  great  a  man  was  lore,1 
It  ought  to  yive  a  great  conceipt 
To  warne  all  other  of  such  de- 

ceipt."— 

"Graunt  mercy,  fader;  I  am  ware 
So  fer,  that  I  no  more*  dare 
Of  Fals  Semblaunt  take  dcqueint- 

aunce, 

But  rather  I  wol  do  penaunce, 
That  I  have  feigned  chere  er  this. 
Now  axeth  forth,  what  so  there  is 
Of  that  belongeth  to  my  shrifte.'' - 
"  My  sone*,  yet  there  is  the  fifte, 
Whiche  is  conceived  of  envie 
And  clepe"d  is  supplantarie, 
Through  whos  compasse'ment  and 

guile 

Ful  many  a  man  hath  lost  his  while 
In  love  as  wel  as  other  wise, 
Here  after  as  I  shall  devise. 

Qfyc  *gicc  of  Supplantaci6n 
With  many  a  fals  collacidn 
Whiche  he  conspireth  all  unknowe, 
Full  ofte*  time  hath  overthrowe 
The  worship  of  another  man. 
So  wel  no  life  awaite"  can 

i  Lore,  lost. 


Ayein  his  sleighte"  for  to  caste, 
That  he  his  purpose  atte"  laste 
Ne  hath,  er  that  it  be  withset.1 
But  most  of  all  his  he'rt  is  set 
In  court  upon  these  great  offices 
Of  dignite"s  and  benefices. 
Thus    goth    he    with  his  sleighte 

about 

To  hinder  and  shove  another  out 
And  stonden  with  his  sligh  compos 
In  stede  there  another  was, 
And  so  to  set  him  selven  inne. 
He  recheth  nought  be  so  he  winne 
Of  that  another  man  shall  lese, 
And  thus  full  ofte  chalk  for  chese 
He  chaungeth  with  full  litel  coste, 
Wherof  another  hath  the  loste 
And  he  the  profit  shall  receive. 
For  his  Fortune  is  to  deceive 
And  for  to  chaunge  upon  the  whele 
His  wo  with  other  mennes  wele  ; 
Of  that  another  man  availeth 
His  own  estate  thus  he  up  haileth 
And  taketh  the  brid  to  his  beyete,2 
Where  other  men  the  busshes  bete. 
My  sone,  and  in  the  samd  wise 
There  ben  lovers  of  suche  emprise, 
That  shapen  hem  to  be  relieved 
Where  it  is  wronge  to  ben  acheved, 
For  it  is  other  manne*s  right 
Whiche  he  hath  taken,  day  and 

night, 

To  kepe*  for  his  owne*  store, 
Toward  him  self  for  evermore 
And  is  his  proper  3  by  the  lawe, 
Which  thing  that  axeth  no  felawe, 
If  Love  holde  his  covenaunt. 
But  they  that  worchen  by  supplant, 
Yet  wolden  they  a  man  supplant 
And  take  a  part  of  thilke  plant, 
Whiche  he  hath  for  him  selve  set. 
And  so  ful  ofte  is  all  unknet 


Withset,  upset. 

Takes  the  bird  for  his  own  profit. 
property. 


128 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That   some  man  weneth  be  right 

faste. 

For  Supplaunt  with  his  slie  caste 
Full  ofte  happeneth  for  to  mowe 
Thing  which  another  man  hath 

sowe, 

And  maketh  comun  of  proprete 
With  sleighte  and  with  subtilite', 
As  men  may  sen  from  yere  to  yere. 
Thus  claimeth  he  the  bote  to  stere 
Of  whiche  another  maister  is. 

"  Forth^  my  sone,  if  thou  er  this 
Hast  ben  of  such  profession, 
Discover  thy  confession. 
Hast  thou  supplanted  any  man  ?"- 

"  For  ought  that  I  you  telle  can, 
Min  holy  fader,  as  of  dede 
I  am  withouten  any  drede 
And  gilteles  but  of  my  thought, 
My  conscience  excuse  I  nought. 
For  were  it  wronge  or  were  it  right, 
Me  lacketh  no  thinge  but  might 
That  I  ne  wolde  longe  er  this 
Of  other  mannes  love  iwis  1 
By  way  of  supplantation 
Have  made  appropriation 
And  holde  that  I  never  bought, 
Though  it  another  man  forthought.2 
And  all  this  speke  I  but  of  one, 
For  whom  I  let  all  other  gone. 
But  her  I  may  nought  overpasse 
That  I  ne  mote  alway  compdsse, 
Me  rought  nought  by  what  que'in- 

tise,3 

So  that  I  might  in  any  wise 
Fro  suche  that  my  lady  serve, 
Her  herte  make  for  to  swerve 
Withouten  any  part  of  love. 
For  by  the  goddes  alle  above 
I  wolde  it  mighte  so  befalle, 
That  I  alone  shuld  hem  alle 
Supplant  and  welde  her  at  my  wille. 
And  that  thing  may  I  nought  fulfille, 

1  Iwis,  certainly.        2  Forthought^  grieved. 
3  I  should  not  care  by  what  ingenious  device. 


But  if  I  shulde  strengthe  make. 
And  that  I  dare  nought  undertake 
Though  I  were  as  was  Alisaunder, 
For  therof  might  arise  a  sclaunder. 
And  certes  that  shall  I  do  never, 
For  in  good  feith  yet  had  I  lever 
In  my  simplesse  for  to  deie, 
Than  worche  such  supplantarie. 
Of  other  wise  I  woll  nought  say 
That,  if  I  founde  a  siker  way, 
I  wolde  as  for  conclusion 
Worche  after  supplantacion 
So  highe  a  love  for  to  winne. 
Now  fader,  if  that  this  be  sinne, 
I  am  all  redy  to  redresse 
Thegilt,  of  whiche  I  me  confesse." — 

"  My  gode  sone,  as  of  Supplant 
Thee  there  nought  drede  tant  ne 

quant 

As  for  no  thing  that  I  have  herde, 
But  only  that  thou  haste  misferde 
Thenkend,  and  that  me  liketh 

nought, 

For  God  beholt1  a  mannes  thought. 
And  if  thou  understood  in  soth 
In  Loves  cause'  what  it  doth 
A  man  to  ben  a  supplantour, 
Thou  woldest  for  thin  own  honour 
By  double  waie'  take  kepe. 

"First  for  thin  own  estate  to  kepe, 
To  be  thy  self  so  well  bethought 
That  thou  supplanted  were  nought. 
And  eke  for  worship  of  thy  name 
Towarde's  other  do  the  same 
And  sufTre  every  man  have  his. 
But  netheles  it  was  and  is 
That  in  awaite  2  at  all  assaies 
Supplant  of  love  is  in  our  waies  ; 
The  lief  full  ofte  for  the  lever 
Forsaketh,3  and  so  it  hath  done 

ever. 
Ensample  I  finde  therupon, 

At  Troie  how  that  Agdmemnon 


1  Beholt,  beholds,  -  Awaite,  watch. 

3  Leaves  the  loved  for  the  more  loved. 


BOOK  I L— ENVY. 


129 


Supplanted  hath  the  worthy  knight 
Achilles  for  that  swete  wight, 
Which  named  was  Brisseida  ; 
And  also  of  Criseida, 
Whom  Troilus  to  love  ches,1 
Supplanted  hath  Didmedes. 

Of  Geta  and  Amphitrione, 
That  whilom  were'  both  as  one 
Of  frendship  and  of  compaignie, 
I  rede  how  that  Supplantarie 
In  Love,  as  it  betide  tho, 
Beguiled  hath  one  of  hem  two. 
For  this  Getd,  that  I  of  mene, 
To  whom  the  lusty  faire  Alcmene 
Assured  was  by  way  of  love, 
Whanhebest  wendehave  ben  above 
And  sikerest  of  that  he  hadde, 
Cupfdo  so  the  cause*  ladde, 
That  while  he  was  out  of  the  way, 
Amphitrion  her  love  away 
Hath  take,  and  in  this  forme  he 

wrought. 
By   night   unto   the   chambre   he 

sought 

Where  that  she  lay,  and  with  a  wile 
He  counterfeteth  for  the  while 
The  vois  of  Get  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  made  her  of  her  bedde  arise 
Wenende',  that  it  were  he, 
She  wende,  that  it  were*  soth. 
Lo,  what  supplant  of  Love  doth. 
This  Geta  forth  bejaped  went, 
And  yet  ne  wist  he  what  it  ment. 
Amphitrion  him  hath  supplanted 
With  sleight  of  love  and  her  en- 

chaunted, 

And  thus  put  every  man  out  other. 
The  ship  of  Love  hath  lost  his  rother, 
So  that  he  can  no  reson  stere. 
And  for  to  speke  of  this  matere 
Touchende'  Love  and  his  supplaunt 
A  tale,  whiche  is  accordaiint, 
Unto  thin  ere  I  thenke  enforme. 
Now  herken,  for  this  is  the  forme. 

1  C/tfs,  chose. 


"  $f  ffcUhc  citcc  chefe  of  alle, 
Which  men  the  noble  Rome  calle, 
Er  it  was  set  to  Criste's  feith, 
There  was,  as  the  cronique'  saith, 
An  emperour,  the  whiche  it  ladde 
In  pees,  that  he  no  werre*s  hadde. 
There  was  no  thing  disobeisaunt, 
Which  was  to  Rome  appertenaunt, 
But  all  was  torned  into  rest 
To  some  it  thought  hem  for  the 

best, 

To  some  it  thought  nothinge  so. 
And  that  was  only  unto  tho 
Whosehertestooduponknighthode. 
But  most  of  alle  his  manhode 
The  worthy  sone  of  themperour, 
Which  wolde  ben  a  werriour, 
As  he  that  was  chivalerous, 
Of  worldes  fame  and  desirous, 
Began  his  fader  to  beseche, 
That  he  the  werres  mightd  seche 
In  straunge*  marches  for  to  ride. 
His  fader  saide  he  shulde  abide 
And  wolde'  graunte  him  no  leve. 
But  he,   which  wolde  nought  be- 

leve,1 

A  knight  of  his  to  whom  he  trist, 
So  that  his  fader  nothing  wist, 
He  toke  and  tolde  him  his  corage,2 
That  he  purposeth  a  viage, 
If  that  Fortune  with  him  stonde. 
He  said  how  that  he  wolde  fonde :5 
The  Crete*  See  4  to  passe  unknowe 
And  there  abide  for  a  throwe  5 
Upon  the  werres  to  travaile. 
And  to  this  point  withoute  faile 
This  knight,  whan  he  hath  herde 

his  lorde, 

Is  swore  and  slant  of  his  accord e. 
And  they  that  bothe  yonge  were, 
So  that  in  prive  counseil  there 

1  Btfeve,  remain. 

-  His  corage,  the  thought  of  his  heart. 
3  Fonde,  try. 

*  Crete  See,  Mediterranean. 
5  for  a  tltrowe,  for  a  time. 

I 


130 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


They  ben  assented  for  to  \vende  ; 
And  therupon  to  make  an  ende 
Tresiire    inough    with    hem    they 

token. 
And  whan  the  time  is  best  they 

loken 

That  sodeinlich  in  a  galeie 
Fro  Rome-lond  they  went  their  waie 
And  lond  upon  that  other  side. 

"  The  worlde  fell  so  thilke  tide, 
Whiche    ever    his    happes    hath 

diverse, 

The  grete  Souldan  than  of  Perse 
Ayein  the  Caliphe  of  Egipte 
A  werre,  which  that  him  beclipte,1 
Hath  in  a  marche  costeaunt.2 
And  he,  which  was  a  pursuivaunt 
Worship  of  armes  to  atteigne, 
This  Remain,  let  anon  ordeigne 
That  he  was  redy  every  dele. 
And  whan  he  was  arraied  wele 
Of    every   thing   which    him    be- 

longeth, 
Straught  unto  Kaire  his   wey  he 

fongeth,3 

Wher  he  the  Souldan  thanne  fonde 
And  axeth  that  within  his  londe 
He  might  him  for  the  werre  serve 
As  he  which  woll  his  thank  deserve. 
The  Souldan  was  right  glad  withall 
And  well  the  more  in  speciall, 
Whan  that  he  wist  he  was  Romain. 
But  what  was  elles  incertain 
That  might  he  wite  by  no  way. 
And  thus  the  knight  of  whom  I  say 
Toward  the  Souldan  is  belefte 
And  in  the  marches  now  and  efte, 
Where  that  the  dedly  werres  Were, 
He    wroughte    such     knighthode 

there, 

That  every  man  spake  of  him  good. 
"And  thilke  time  so  it  stood 


1  Beclipte,  surrounded. 

~  Marcht  costeaunt,  border  country. 

3  Fongeth,  takes. 


This  mighty  Souldan  by  his  wife 
A  doughter  hath,  that  in  this  life 
Men  saide  there  was  none  so  faire  ; 
She  shulde  ben  her  faders  heire, 
And  was  of  yeres  ripe  inough, 
Her  beaute  many  an  herte  drough 
To  bowen  to  that  ilke  lawe, 
Fro  which  no  life  may  be  with- 

drawe. 

And  that  is  Love,  whose  nature 
Set  life  and  deth  in  a  venture 
Of  hem  that  knighthode  undertake. 
This  lusty  peine  hath  overtake 
The  hert  of  this  Romafn  so  sore, 
That  to  knighthode  more  and  more 
Prowesse  ayaunteth  his  corige. 
Lich  to  the  leon  in  his  rage, 
Fro  whom  that  alle  bestes  fle ; 
Such  was  this  knight  in  his  degre. 
Where  he  was  armed  in  the  felde, 
Ther  durste  none  abide  his  shelde. 
Great  price x  upon    the  werre  he 

hadde. 
"  But  she,  whiche  all  the  chaunce 

ladde, 

Fortune  shope  the  marches  so, 
That  by  thassent  of  bothe  two 
The  Souldan  and  the  Caliphe  eke 
Bataile  upon  a  day  they  seke, 
Which  was  in  suche  a  wise  set, 
That  lenger  shulde  it  nought  be  ret. 
They  made  hem  stronge  on  every 

side, 

And  whan  it  drough  toward  the  tide, 
That  the  bataile  shulde  be, 
The  Souldan  in  great  privete 
A  gold  ringe  of  his  doughter  toke 
And  made  her  swere  upon  a  boke 
And  eke  upon  the  goddes  all, 
That  if  fortune  so  befall 
In  the  bataile  that  he  deie, — 
That  she  shall  thilke  man  obeie 
And  take  him  to  her  husebonde, 
Which  thilke  same  ring  to  honde 

1  PricC)  praise. 


BOOK  II.-ENVY. 


Her  bhulde  bringe  after  his  deth. 
"  This  hath  she  swore,  and  forth 

he  geth 

With  all  the  power  of  his  londe 
Unto  the  marche,  where  he  fonde 
His  enemy  full  embatailed. 
The  Souldan  hath  the  feld  assailed. 
They  that  ben  hardy  sone  assem- 

blen, 
Wherof  the  dredfull  hertes  trem- 

blen. 
That  one  sleeth,   and  that  other 

sterveth,1 

But  above  all  his  prise  deserveth 
This  knightly  Remain  ;  where  he 

rode 

His  dedly  swerd  no  man  abode, 
Ayein  the  which  was  no  defence, 
Egipte  fledde  in  his  presence, 
And  they  of  Perse  upon  the  chace 
Pursuen,  but  I  not 2  what  grace 
Befell,  an  arwe  out  of  a  bowe 
All  sodeinly  within  a  throwe 
The  Souldan  smote,  and  there  he 

lay. 

The  chas  is  left  for  thilke  day, 
And  he  was  bore  into  a  tent. 
The  Souldan  sigh  how  that  it  went, 
And  that  he  shulde  algate'  deie. 
And  to  this  knight  of  Romainie, 
As  unto  him  whome  he  most  triste, 
His  doughters  ring,  that  none  it 

wiste, 

He  toke  and  tolde  him  all  the  cas, 
Upon  her  othe  what  token  it  was 
Of  that  she  shulde  ben  his  \vife. 
Whan  this  was  said,  the  hertes  life 
Of  this  Soulddn  departeth  sone. 
And  therupon,  as  was  to  done, 
The  dede  body  well  and  faire 
They  carry  till  they  come  at  Kaire, 
There  he  was  worthely  begrave. 
"  The  lorde's,  which e  as  wolden 

save 

1  Stervetht  dies.       -  Nott  know  not  (ue  wot). 


The  regnc,  which  was  desolate, 
To  bringe  it  into  good  estate 
A  parlement  they  set  anone. 
Now  herken  what  fell  therupon. 
This  youge'  lord,  this  worthy  knight 
Of  Rome  upon  the  same  night 
That  they  a  morwe  trete  sholde, 
Unto  his  bacheler  he  tolde 
His  counseil,  and  the  ring  with  al 
He  sheweth,  through  which  that  he 

shall, 
He    saith,    the    kinges    doughter 

wedde, 

For  so  the  ring  was  leid  to  wedde,1 
He  tplde,  into  her  faders  honde, 
That  with  what  man   that  she  it 

fonde 

She  shulde  him  take  unto  her  lorde. 
*  And  thus,'  he  saith,  '  stant  of  re- 

corde. 
But  no  man  wot  who  hath  this 

ring.' 

This  bacheler  upon  this  thing 
His  ere  and  his  entente'  laid 
And  thoughte  more  than  he  said ; 
And  feigneth  with  a  fals  visdge, 
That  he  was  glad,  but  his  cordge 
Was  all  set  in  another  wise. 
These  olde*  philosophres  wise 
They  writen  upon  thilke  while. 
That  he  may  best  a  man  beguile 
In    whom    the    man    hath    most 

credence. 

And  this  befell  in  evidence 
Toward  this  yong^  lord  of  Rome. 
His  bacheler,  which  hadde'  come 
Whan    that    his    lord   by    night  c 

slepte, 
This  ring,  the  which  his  maister 

kepte, 

Out  of  his  purs  awey  he  dede 
And  put  another  in  the  stedc. 

"  A  morwe  whan  the  court  is  set 
The  yonge  lady  was  forth  fet, 

1  To  wedeie,  as  ptedge. 


132 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


To  whom  the  lordes  done  homage, 
And  after  that  of  mariage 
They  treten  and  axen  of  her  wille. 
But  she,  which  thoughte  to  fulfille 
Her  faders  hest  in  this  matere, 
Said  openly,  that  men  may  here, 
The  charge  whiche  her  fader  bad. 
Tho  was  this  lorde  of  Rome  glad 
And  drough  toward  his  purs  anone, 
But  all  for  nought,  it  was  agone. 
His  bacheler  it  hath  forth  drawe 
And  axeth  therupon  the  lawe, 
That  she  him  holde  covenaunt 
The  token  was  so  suffisaunt, 
That  it  ne  mighte  be  forsake.. 
And  netheles  his  lorde  hath  take 
Quarele  ayein  his  owne  man, 
But  for  no  thing  that  ever  he  can 
He  might  as    thanne  nought   be 

herde, 

So  that  his  claime  is  unanswerde, 
And  he  hath  of  his  purpos  failed. 
"This  bacheler  was  tho  coun- 

seiled 

And  wedded  and  of  thilke  empire 
He  was  corouned  lord  and  sire, 
*And   all   the  lond   him   hath  re 
ceived  • 

Wherof  his  lord,  which  was  de 
ceived, 

A  siknesse  er  the  thridde  morwe 
Conceived  hath  of  dedly  sorwe. 
And  as  he  lay  upon  his  deth, 
There  while   him   lasteth    speche 

and  breth 

He  sende  for  the  worthiest 
Of  all  the  londe  and  eke  the  best 
And  tolde  hem  all  the  sothe  tho, 
That  he  was  sone  and  heire  also 
Of  themperour  of  grete  Rome, 
And  how  that  they  to-gider  come, 
This  knight  and  he,  right  as  it  was 
He  tolde  hem  all  the  pleine  cas. 
And  for  that  he  his  counseil  tolde, 
That  other  hath  all  that  he  wolde 


And  he  hath  failed  of  his  mede. 
As  for  the  good  he  taketh  none  hede 
He  saith,  but  only  of  the  love, 
Of  which  he  wend  have  ben  above. 
And  therupon  by  letter  write 
He  doth  his  fader  for  to  wite 
Of  all  the  mater  how  it  stode. 
And  thanne  with  an  hertely  mode 
Unto  the  lordes  he  besought 
To  tell  his  lady  howe  he  bought 
Her  love,  of  whiche  another  glad- 

deth. 

And  with  thatworde  his  hewefadeth 
And  saide :  *  a  dieu  my  lady  swete/ 
The  life  hath  lost  his  kindely  hete, 
And  he  lay  dede  as  any  stone, 
Wherof  was  sory  many  one, 
But  none  of  alle  so  as  she. 

"  This  false  knight  in  his  degre 
Arested  was  and  put  in  holde. 
For  openly  whan  it  was  tolde 
Of  the  treson,  whiche  is  befalle, 
Throughout  the  lond  they  saiden 

alle, 

If  it  be  soth  that  men  suppose 
Hisowneuntrouth  him  shall  depose. 
And  for  to  seche  an  evidence 
With  honour  and  great  reverence, 
Wherof  they  mighte  knowe  an  ende, 
To  themperour  anon  they  sende 
The  letter  whiche  his  sone  wrote. 
And  whan  that  he  the  sothe  wote, 
To  tell  his  sorwe  is  endeles ; 
But  yet  in  haste  netheles 
Upon  the  tale  whiche  he  herde, 
His  steward  into  Perse  ferde 
With  many  a  worthy  Romain  eke 
His  lege  tretour1  for  to  seke. 
And  whan  they  thider  come  were, 
This  knight  him  hath    confessed 

there, 

How  falsly  that  he  hath  him  bore, 
Wherof  his  worthy  lord  was  lore.2 

1  His  legc  trefoiir^  his  traitorous  liegeman. 
-  Loret  lost. 


BOOK  1 1. —ENVY. 


'33 


"  Tho   saiden  some   he  shulde 

deie, 

But  yet  they  founden  such  a  weie, 
That  he  shall  nought  be  decle  in 

Perse, 

And  thus  the  skilles  ben  diverse. 
By  cause  that  he  was  coroned, 
Of  that  the  lond  was  abandoned 
To  him,  all  though  it  were  unright, 
There  is  no  peine  for  him  dight, 
But  to  this  point  and  to  this  ende 
They  graunten  wel,  that  he  shall 

wende 

With  the  Romams  to  Rome  ayein. 
And  thus  accorded  full  and  plein 
The  quickd  body  with  the  dede 
With  levd  takd l  forth  they  lede, 
Where  that  supplant  hath  his  juise.2 
Wherof  that  thou  thee  might  avise 
Upon  this  enformacion 
Touchend  of  Supplantacion, 
That  thou,  my  sond,  do  nought  so 
And  for  to  take*  hede  also 
What  Supplant  doth  in  other  halve, 
There  is  no  man  can  finde  a  salve 
Pleinly  to  helen  suche  a  sore. 
It  hath  and  shall  ben  evermore, 
Whan  Pride  is  with  Envid  joint, 
He  suffreth  no  man  in  good  point, 
Where  that  he  may  his  honour  let. 
And  therupon  if  I  shall  set 
Ensample,  in  holy  chirche  I  finde 
How  that  Supplant  is  nought  be- 

hinde. 

God  wote,  if  that  it  now  be  so. 
For  in  cronique  of  time  ago 
I  finde  a  talc  concorddble 
Of  Supplant,  which  that  is  no  fable, 
In  the  mandr  as  I  shall  telle 
So  as  whilom  the  thinges  fellc. 

Jit  £lome  as  it  hath  ofte  falle 
The  Viker  Generall  of  alle 
Of  hem  that  leven  Cristds  feith 

1  Lcvt  takt,  leave  taken, 
a  Juise  (judicium),  judgment. 


His  lastd  day, — which  none  with- 

saith, — 

Hath  shette  as  to  the  wo  rides  eye  : 
Whos  name,  if  I  shall  specific, 
He  hightd  Popd  Nicholas. 
•   And  thus  whan  that  he  passdd  was, 
I   The  Cardinals,  that  wolden  save 
I  The  forme  of  lawe  in  the  conclave. 
Gon  for  to  chese  a  newc*  Pope, 
And  after  that  they  couthe  agropc 
Hath  eche  of  hem  said  his  entent. 
Til  attd  lastd  they  assent 
Upon  an  holy  clerk  recluse, 
Which  full  was  of  gostly  vertuse. 
His  patience  and  his  simplesse 
Hath  set  him  into  highe  noblesse. 
Thus  was  he  Popd  canonised 
With  great  honour  and  intronised. 
And  upon  chaunce,  as  it  is  falle, 
His  namd  Celestin  men  calle  ; 
Which  notified  was  by  bulle 
To  holy  chirche,  and  to  the  fulle 
In  alld  londes  magnified. 
But  every  worship  is  envied, 
And  that  was  thilkd  time  sene. 
For  whan  this  Pope,  of  whome  I 

mene, 

Was  chose  and  other  set  beside, 
A  Cardinal  was  thilke  tide, 
Which  the  papate  long  hath  desired 
And  therupon  gretely  conspired. 
But  whan  he  sigh  fortune  is  failed, 
For  which  long  time  he  hath  tra 
vailed, 
That  ilke  fire  whiche  Ethna  bren- 

neth 

Throughout  his  wofullherterenneth, 
Whiche  is  resembled  to  En  vie, 
Wherof  Supplant  and  Trecherie 
Engendred  is.     And  netheles 
He  feigneth  love,  he  feigneth  pees. 
Outward  he  doth  the  reverdnce, 
But  all  within  his  conscience 
Through  fals  ymaginacion 
He  thoughtd  Supplantacion. 


134 


CONFESS  10  AMANTIS. 


And  therupon  a  wonder  wile 

He  wroughte*.     For  at  thilke  while 

It  fel  so,  that  of  his  lign.lge 

He  hadde  a  clergeon  of  yonge  age, 

Whom  he   hath    in   his   chambre 

affaited.1 
"This   Cardinal  his  time  hath 

waited 

And  with  his  wordes  sly  and  queint, 
The  whiche  he  couthe*  wisely  peint, 
He  shope  this  clerke,  of  whiche  I 

telle, 

Toward  the  Pope  for  to  dwelle, 
So  that  within  his  chamber  a  night 
He  lay,  and  was  a  prive'  wight 
Toward  the  Pope  on  nightes  tide; 
May  no  man  fle  that  shall  betide. 
"  This  Cardinal,  which  thoughte 

guile, 

Upon  a  day,  whan  he  hath  while, 
This  yonge  clerke  unto  him  toke 
And  made  him  swere  upon  a  boke 
And  tolde  him  what  his  wille  was. 
And  forth  with  al  a  trompe  of  bras 
He  hath  him  take  and  bad  him 

this: 
1  Thou   shalt,'    he    saide,    (  whan 

time  is 

Awaite  and  take  right  good  kepe, 
Whan  that  the  Pope  is  fast  aslepe 
And  that  none  other  man  be  nigh. 
And  thanne  that  thou  be  so  sligh 
Through  out  the  trompe  into  his 

ere, 

Fro  heven  as  though  a  vois  it  were, 
To  soune  of  such  prolacion, 
That  he  his  meditacion 
Therof  may  take,  and  understonde 
As  though  it  were  of  Godde's  sonde. 
And  in  this  wise*  thou  shalt  say, 
That  he  do  thilk  estate  away 
Of  Pope,  of  whiche  he  stant  hon 
oured, 
So  shall  his  soule  be  socoured 

1  Affaited,  adapted  to  his  purpose. 


Of  thilke  worship  attd  last 
In  heven  which  shall  ever  last.3 
"  This  clerk,  whan  he  hath  herd 

the  form, 

How  he  the  Pope  shuld  enform, 
Toke  of  the  Cardinal  his  leve 
And  goth  him  home,  till  it  was  eve. 
And  prively  the  trompe  he  hedde, 
Til  that  the  Pope  was  a  bedde. 
And    at    the    midnight,    whan    he 

knewe 

The  Pope  slepte,  than  he  blewe 
Within  his  trompe  through  the  wall 
And  tolde,  in  what  maner  he  shall 
His  Papacfe  leve,  and  take 
His  firste  estate.     And  thus  awake 
This  holy  Pope  he  made  thries, 
Wherof  diverse  fantasies 
Upon  his  grete  holinesse 
Within  his  hert  he  gan  impresse. 
The  Pope  full  of  innocence 
Conceiveth  in  his  conscience 
That  it  is  Goddes  wil  he  cesse.1 
But  in  what  wise  he  may  relesse 
His   highe   estate,    that   wote    he 

nought. 
And    thus    within    him    selfe   be 

thought, 

He  bare  it  stille  in  his  memoire, 
Till  he  cam  to  the  consistoire, 
And  there  in  presence  of  hem  alle 
He  axeth  if  it  so  befalle, 
That  any  Pope  cesse  wolde, 
How  that  the  lawe  it  sufifre  sholde. 
They  seten  alle  stille  and  herde, 
Was    none,    which    to    the    point 

answdrde ; 

For  to  what  purpos  that  it  ment 
There  was  no  man  knew  his  en- 
tent 

But  only  he  which  shope  the  guile. 
"  This  Cardinal  the  same  while 
All  openly  with  wordes  pleine 
Saith  if  the  Pope  woll  ordeigne, 

1  Cesse,  abdicate. 


BOOK  II.— ENVY. 


'35 


That  there  be  suchc  a  lawe  wrought, 
Than   might   he  cesse,   and  elles 

nought. 

"  And  as  he  saide,  done  it  was. 
The  Pope  anone  upon  the  cas 
Of  his  papdll  auctorite* 
Hath  made  and  yove*  the  decre*. 
And  whan  the  lawe  was  confermed 
In  due*  forme  and  all  affermed, 
This  innocent  which  was  deceived 
His  papacie  anone  hath  weived,1 
Renounced  and  resigned  eke. 
That  other  was  no  thing  to  seke, 
But  undernethe  suche  a  jape 
He  hath  so  for  him  selfe  shape, 
That  how  as  ever  it  him  beseme 
The  mitre  with  the  diademe 
He  hath  through  Supplantacion 
And  in  his  confirmacion, 
Upon  the  fortune  of  his  grace, 
His  name  was  cleped  Boneface. 

"  Under  the  viser  of  Envie, 
Lo,  thus  was  hid  the  trecherie 
Whiche  hath  beguiled  many  one. 
But  such  counseil  theremaybe  none 
Which  treson,  whan  it  is  conspired, 
That  it  nis  lich  the  sparke  fired 
Up  in  the  roof,  which  for  a  throwe 
Lith  hid  til,  whan  the  winde's  blowe, 
It  blaseth  out  on  every  side. 
This  Boneface,  which  can  nought 

hide 

The  trecherie  of  his  supplaunt, 
Hath  openly  made  his  avaunt, 
How  he  the  papacie  hath  wonne. 
But  thing  which  is  with  wrong  be- 

gonne 

May  never  stonde*  wel  at  ende. 
Where  Pride  shall  the  bowe  bende, 
He  shet  2  ful  oft  out  of  the  way. 
And  thus  the  Pope,  of  whom  I  say, 
Whan  that  he  stood  on  high  the 

whele, 


i  put  aside. 
2  Shet,  shoots. 


He  can  nought  suffre  himself  be 

wele. 

Envie,  whiche  is  love'les, 
And  Pride',  whiche  is  lawe'les, 
With  such  tempe*ste  made  him  en  e, 
That  charite*  goth  out  of  herre.1 
So  that  upon  misgovernaunce 
Ayein  Lewfis  the  King  of  Fraunce 
He  toke  quarell  of  his  oultrage 
And  said,  he  shulde*  don  homage 
Unto  the  chirche  bode'ly. 
But  he,  that  wist  no  thinge  why 
He  shulde  do  so  great  service 
After  the  worlde  in  suche  a  wise, 
Withstood     the    wrong     of    that 

demaunde, 
For  nought  the  Pope  may  com- 

maunde 
The  King  woll  nought  the  Pope 

obeie. 

This  Pope  tho  by  alle  weie 
That  he  may  worche  of  violence, 
Hath  sent  the  bulle  of  his  sentence 
With  cursinge  and  with  enterdite. 
The  king  upon  this  wrongfull  plite 
To  kepe  his  regne  from  servdge, 
Counselled  was  of  his  barndge,- 
That  might  with  might  shall  be 

withstond. 

Thus  was  the  cause  tak  on  hond, 
And  saiden,  that  the  papacie 
They  wolden  honour  and  magnifie 
In  all  that  ever  is  spiritual!, 
But  thilke*  Pride*  temporal 
Of  Boneface  in  his  persone 
Ayein  that  ilke*  wronge  aldne 
They  wolde  stonden  in  debate, 
And  thus  the  man  and  nought  the 

state 

The  Frensshe  shopen  by  her  might 
To  greve.     And  fel  there  was  a 

knight 

Sire  Guilliam  de  Langharet, 
Which  was  upon  this  cause*  set. 

l  Goes  offits  hinges.        s  Barnage^  baronage. 


i36 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  therupon  he  toke  a  route 
Of  men  of  armes  and  rode  oute, 
So  longe  and l  in  awaite  he  lay, 
That  he  aspied  upon  a  day 
The  Pope  was  at  Avinon 
And  shulde  ride  out  of  the  town 
Unto  Pontsorge,  the  whiche  is 
A  castell  in  Provence  of  his. 
Upon  the  way  and  as  he  rode, 
This    knight,    whiche    hoved    and 

abode 

Embuisshed  upon  horse'bake, 
All  sodeinlich  upon  him  brake 
And  hath  him  by  the  bridell  sesed 
And   said :    '  O   thou,  which   hast 

disesed 
The    courte    of   Fraunce    by   thy 

wronge, 
Now  shalt    thou    singe    an   other 

songe. 

Thin  enterdite  and  thy  sentence 
Ayein  thin  owne  conscience 
Hereafter  thou  shalt  fele  and  grope. 
We  pleigne  nought  ayein  the  Pope, 
For  thilke  name  is  honourable, 
But  thou,  whiche  hast  be  deceivable 
And  trecherous  in  all  thy  werke, 
Thou  Boneface,  and  proude  clerke, 
Misleder  of  the  papacie, 
Thy  false  body  shall  able  2 
And  suffre,  that  it  hath  deserved.' 
"  Lo,  thus  this  supplantor  was 

served. 

For  they  him  ladden  into  Fraunce 
And  setten  him  to  his  penaunce 
Within  a  toure  in  harde  bondes, 
Where   he   for    hunger   both    his 

hondes 
Ete  of  and  died,  God  wote  how. 

1  Sff  longe  and,  and  so  long.     This  way  of 
placing  "and"  occurs  frequently  throughout 
the  poem.      Here  it   recurs  six   lines   lower 
down. 

2  Abie.     "Abye"  means  buy,  that  is,  "pay 
for."   "  Abide  "  would  mean  "  wait  for,"  as  this 
knight  "hoved"  (hovered  about  a  spot)  and 
abode,  waited  for,  Pope  Boniface. 


Of  whome  the  writinge  is  yet  now 
Registred  as  a  man  may  here, 
Which  speketh  and  saith  in  this 

maner  : 

'  Thin  entre  lich  a  fox  was  sligh, 
Thy  regne  also  with  pride  on  high 
Was  lich  the  Icon  in  his  rage, 
But  atte  laste  of  thy  passage 
Thy  deth  was  to  the  houndes  like.' 
"  Suche  is  the  letter  of  his  cro- 

nique 

Proclamed  in  the  court  of  Rome, 
Wherof  the  wise  ensample  nome.1 
And  yet  as  ferforth  as  I  dare, 
I  rede  all  other  men  beware 
And  that  they  loke  well  algate, 
That  none  his  owne  estate  translate 
Of  holy  chirche  in  no  degre 
By  fraude  ne  by  subtilte. 
For  thilke  honour  whiche  Aaron 

toke 

Shall  none  receive  as  saith  theboke, 
But  he  be  cleped,2  as  he  was. 
What  shall  I  thenken  in  this  cas 
Of  that  I  here  no  we  a  day  ? 
I  not,3  but  he  which  can  and  may 
By  reson  both  and  by  nature 
The  helpe  of  every  mannes  cure 
He  kepe  Simon  fro  the  folde. 

"For  Joachim,  thilke  abbot tolde, 
How  suche  daies  shulden  falle, 
That  comunlich  in  places  alle 
The  chapmen  of  such  mercerie 
With  fraude  and  with  supplantarie 
So  many  shulden  beie  and  selle, 
That  he  ne  may  for  shame  telle 
So  foule  a  sinne  in  mannes  ere. 
But  God  forbede  that  it  were 
In  oure  daies,  that  he  saith. 
For  if  the  clerk  beware  4  his  faith 
In  chapmanhode  at  suche  a  faire 
The  remenaunt  mot  nede  empeire  5 

1  Nome)  took. 

2  But  he  be  cleped,  unless  he  be  called. 

3  Not,  know  not.  4  Beware^  barter. 
5  Empeire,  grow  worse. 


BOOK  II. —ENVY. 


137 


Of  all  that  to  the  world  belongeth. 
For  whan  that  holy  chirche  wrong- 

eth, 

I  not  what  other  thing  shall  righte. 
And  netheles  at  manne's  sighte 
Envfe  for  to  be  preferred 
Hath  conscience*  so  differred, 
That  no  man  loketh  to  the  Vice 
Whiche  is  the  moder  of  malice, 
And  that  is  thilke  fals  Envie, 
Which  causeth  many  a  trecherie. 
For  where  he  may  another  se 
That  is  more  gracious  than  he, 
It  shall  nought  stonden  in  his  might 
But  if  he  hinder  suche  a  wight. 
And  that  is  well  nigh  over  all 
This  Vice  is  now  so  general!. 

"  Envfe  thilke  unhap  indrough, 
Whan  Joab  by  deceipte  slough 
Abner,  for  drede  he  shulde  be 
With  king  David  such  as  was  he. 

"  And  through  Envie  also  it  felle 
Of  thilke  fals  Achitofelle, 
For     his     counseil    was     nought 

acheved 

But  that  he  sigh  Cusy  beleved 
With  Absolon  and  him  forsake, 
He  henge  him  selfe  upon  a  stake. 

"  Senec  witnessed!  openly, 
How  that  Envfe  properly 
Is  of  the  Court  the  comun  wenche. 
And  halt  taverne  for  to  schenche  * 
That  drink  which  maketh  the  herte 

brenne, 

And  doth  2  the  wit  aboute  renne 
By  every  waie  to  compdsse 
How  that  he  might  all  other  passe, 
As  he  which  through  unkindeship 
Envieth  every  felaship. 
So  that  thou  might  well  knowe  and 

se, 

There  is  no  Vice  suche  as  he 
First  toward  God  abhomindble 
And  to  mankinde  unprofitable. 

1  Schenche,  pour  out          2  Dot/t,  causes. 


And  that  by  worde*s  but  a  fewe 
I  shall  by  reson  prove  and  shewe. 
"  Envie  if  that  I  shall  descrive, 
He  is  nought  shaply  for  to  wive 
In  erth  among  the  women  here. 
For  there  is  in  him  no  matere 
Wherof  he  mightd  do  plesaunce. 
First  for  his  hevy  contenaunce 
Of  that  he  semeth  ever  unglad 
He  is  nought  able  to  be  hadde, 
And  eke  he  brenneth  so  withinne, 
That  kinde  may  no  profit  winne, 
Wherof  he  shulde  his  love  plese. 
For  thilke  blood,  which  shuld  have 

ese 

To  regne  among  the  moiste  veines. 
Is  drie  of  thilke  unkindly  peines 
Through  which  Envie  is  fire'd  ay. 
And  this  by  reson  prove  I  may, 
That  toward  Love  Envie  is  nought ; 
And  other  wise  if  it  be  sought, 
Upon  what  side  as  ever  it  falle 
It  is  the  werstd  Vice  of  alle, 
Which  of  him  self  hath  most  malice. 
For  understond  that  every  Vice 
Some  cause*  hath  wherof  it  groweth. 
But  of  Envie  no  man  knoweth 
Fro  whenne  he  cam,  but   out   of 

helle. 

For  thus  the  wise  clerke's  telle, 
That  no  spirit  but  of  malice 
By  way  of  kinde  upon  a  Vice 
Is  tempted,  and  by  such  a  way 
Envie  hath  kindd  l  put  away 
And  of  malice  hath  his  sterfng, 
Wherof  he  maketh  his  b«lkbiting, 
And  is  him  self  therof  disesed  ; 
So  may  there  be  no  kinde  plesed. 
For  ay  the  more  that  he  envieth, 
The  more  ayein  him  self  he  plieth. 
Thus  slant  Envie  in  good  espeire 
To  ben  him  self  the  divels  heire 
As  he  whiche  is  his  nextd  liche 
And  furthest  from  the  heven  riche. 

1  Kindt',  nature. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


For  there  may  he  never  wone.1 

"  Forth v  my  gode  dere  sone, 
If  thou  wolt  finde  a  siker  way 
To  love,  put  Envfe  away."  — 

"  Min  holy  fader,  reson  wolde, 
That  I  this  Vice  escheue'  sholde. 
But  yet  to  strengthen  my  corage 
If  that  ye  wolde  in  avauntage 
Therof  set  a  recoverir, 
It  were  to  me  a  great  desir, 
That  I  this  Vied  mighte  flee." — 

"  Now  understond,  my  sone,  and 

see, 

There  is  phisique  for  the  seke 
And  Vertues  for  the  Vices  eke. 
Who  that  the  Vices  wolde  escheue, 
He  mot  by  reson  thanne  sue  - 
The  Vertues.      For  by  thilke  way 
He  may  the  Vices  done  away; 
Fortheyto-gidermay  nought  dwelle. 
For  as  the  water  of  the  welle 
Of  fire  abateth  the  malice, 
Right  so  Vertu  fordoth  the  Vice. 

"  Ayein  Envie  is  Charitd, 
Whiche  is  the  moder  of  pite, 
Thatmakethamannesherte'  tender. 
That  it  may  no  malice  engender 
In  him  that  is  inclined  therto. 
For  his  corage  is  tempred  so, 
That    though   he   might   him   self 

releve 

Yet  wolde  he  nought  another  greve, 
But  rather  for  to  do  plesaunce 
He    bereth    him    selven    the    gre- 

vaunce, 

So  fain  he  wolde  another  ese. 
Wherof,  my  sone,  for  thin  ese 
Now  herken  a  tale,  whiche  I  rede,3 
And  understonde  it  well  I  rede.4 

"  ^tttoncj  the  bokes  of  Latin 
I  finde  it  writ  of  Constantm, 
The  worthy  emperour  of  Rome, 
Such  infortiines  to  him  come 


1  Wone,  dwell. 
3  Rede,  read. 


-  Sue,  follow. 
4  Rede,  advise. 


Whan  he  was  in  his  lusty  age, 
The  lepre  caught  in  his  visage 
And  so  forth  over  all  aboute 
That  he  ne  mightd  riden  oute. 
So  left  he  bothe  shield  and  spere, 
As  he  that  might  him  nought  be- 

stere, 

And  heldehim  in  his  chamber  close. 
Through  all  the   world  the   fame 

arose. 

The  grete  clerkes  ben  assent 
And  com  at  his  commaunde'ment 
To  tret  upon  this  lorde's  hele. 
So  longe*  they  to-gider  dele, 
That  they  upon  this  medicine 
Appointen  hem  and  determine, 
That  in  the  maner  as  it  stood 
They  wolde  him  bath  in   childes 

blood 

Withinne  seven  winter  age. 
For  as  they  sain,  that  shulde  assuage 
The  leper  and  all  the  violence, 
Which  that  theyknewe  of  accidence 
And  nought  by  way  of  kinde  is  falle. 
And  therto  they  accorden  alle 
As  for  finall  conclusion, 
And  tolden  her  opinion 
To  themperour.     And  he  anone 
His  counseil  toke,  and  therupon 
With  letters  and  with  scales  out 
They  send  in  every  londe  about 
The  yongd  children  for  to  seche, 
Whose  blood,  they  said,  shulde  be 

leche 
For  themperoures  maladie. 

"  There  was  inough  to  wepe  and 

crie 

Among  themoders,  whan  they  herde 
How  wofully  this  cause  ferde. 
But  nethe'les  they  moten  bowe, 
And  thus  wome'n  there  come  inowe, 
With  children  soukend  on  the  tete; 
Tho  was  there  many  tere's  lete. 
"  But  were  hem  liefe  or  were  hem 

loth, 


BOOK  //.— 7iATrV. 


139 


The  women  and  the  children  both 
Into  the  paleis  forth  be  brought 
With  many  a  sory  hertds  thought 
Of  hem  whiche  of  her l  body  bore 
The  children  hadde,  and  so  forlore 
Within  a  while*  shulden  se. 
The  moders  wepe  in  her  degre 
And  many  of  hem  a  swound  falle, 
The  yongd  babies  crieden  alle. 
This  noise  arose,  this  lorde  it  herde 
And  loked  out,  and  how  it  ferde 
He  sigh,  and  as  who  saith  abraide 
Out  of  his  slepe  and  thus  he  saide  : 
'  O  thou  divine"  purveaunce, 
Which  every  man  in  the  balaiince 
Of  kinde  hast  formed  to  be  liche, — 
The  pouer  is  bore  as  is  the  riche 
And  dieth  in  the  same*  wise ; 
Upon  the  fole,  upon  the  wise, 
Sikndsse  and  hele  ente'r  comune  ; 
May  none  escheue  that  fortune 
Which  kinde  hath  in  her  lawe  sette : 
Her  strengthe  and  beautd  ben  bc- 

sette 

To  every  man  alichd  free  ; 
That  she  preferreth  no  degree 
As  in  the  disposicion 
Of  bodely  complexion. 
And  eke,  of  soule  resondble, 
The  pouer  childe  is  bore  as  able 
To  vertue  as  the  king(5s  sone. 
For  every  man  his  owne*  wone  2 
After  the  lust  of  his  assay 
The  Vice  or  Vertue  chese  may. 
Thus  stonden  alle"  men  fraunchised, 
But  in  estate  they  ben  devised ; 
To  some*  worship  and  riche'sse, 
To  some'  poudrte  and  distresse  ; 
One  lordeth  and  an  other  serveth  : 
But  yet  as  every  man  deserveth 
The  world  yeveth  nought  his  yeftes 

here. 
And  certes  he  hath  great  matere 

1  Her,  their. 

2  Hismvntwont,  according  to  his  own  usage. 


To  ben  of  good  condicion, 
Whiche  hath  in  his  subjection 
The   men    that   ben  of  his    sem- 

blaiince.' 

And  eke  he  tokehis  remembraunce, 
How  he  that  madd  lawe  of  kinde 
Wolde  every  man  to  lawe  binde, 
And  bad  a  man,  suche  as  he  wolcie 
Toward   him   self,   right    such   he 

sholde 
Toward  an  other  done  also. 

"  And  thus  this  worthy  lord  as  tho1 
Set  in  balaiince  his  owne  estate 
And  with  him  self  stood  in  debate 
And  thoughte,  howe  it  was  nought 

good 

To  se  so  mochel  mannes  blood 
Be  spilt  by  cause  of  him  alone. 

"  He  sigh  also  the  grete  mone 
Of  that  the  moders  were  unglad, 
And  of  the  wo  the  children  made 
Wherof  that  all  his  herte  tendreth, 
And  such  pite  within  engendreth 
That  him  was  lever  for  to  chese 
His  owne  body  for  to  lese, 
Than  se  so  great  a  mordre  wrought 
Upon    the    blood    which    gilteth 

nought. 

Thus  for  the  pitd  whiche  he  toke, 
All  other  leche's  he  forsoke 
And  put  him  out  of  aventure 
Al  only  into  Goddes  cure 
And  saith  :  *  Who  that  woll  maister 

be 

He  mot  be  servatint  to  pite.' 
So  ferforth  he  was  overcome 
With  charite',  that  he  hath  nome 
His  counseil  and  his  officers, 
And  badde  unto  his  tresorers, 
That  they  his  tresour  all  about 
Departe  2  among  the  pouer  route 
Of  women  and  of  children  bothe, 
Wherof  they  might  hem  fede  and 

clothe 

1  A s  iho,  as  then.      2  Departe.  part  out,  divide. 


140 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  saufly  tornen  home  ayein 
Withoute  loss  of  any  grein. 
Through  Charite"  thus  hedispendeth 
His  good,  wherof  that  he  amendeth 
The  pouer  people  and  countre  vaileth 
The  harm  that  he  hem  sotravaileth. 
And  thus  the  wofull  nightes  sorwe 
To  joie  is  torned  on  the  monve. 
All  was  thanking,  all  was  blessing, 
Whiche    erst    was    wepinge    and 

cursing. 
These   women    gone    home    glad 

inough, 

Echone  for  joie  on  other  lough 
And  praiden  for  this  lordes  hele, 
Whiche  hath  relesed  the  quarele 
And  hath  his  owne  will  forsake 
In  Charite  for  Goddes  sake. 
But  now  hereafter  thou  shake  here 
What  God  hath  wrought   in   this 

matere, 

As  he  that  doth  all  equite. 
To  him  that  wroughte  Charite 
He  was  ayeinward  charitous 
And  to  pite  he  was  pitous. 
For  it  was  never  knowe  yit, 
That  Charite  goth  unaquit. 
The  night  whan   he  was   laid  to 

slepe, 
The  high£  God,  which  wold  him 

kepe, 
Saint  Peter  and  saint  Poule  him 

sende, 
By    whom    he    wolde    his     lepre 

amende. 

They  two  to  him  slepend  appere 
Fro  God,  and  said  in  this  manere : 
'  O     Constantin,     for    thou     hast 

served 

Pite,  thou  hast  pite  deserved. 
Forthy  thou  shalt  such,  pitd  have, 
That  God  through  pite  woll  the  save. 
So  shalt  thou  double  hele  finde, 
First  for  thy  bodelichd  kinde, 
And  for  thy  wofull  soule  also. 


Thou  shalt  ben  hole  of  bothd  two. 
And  for  thou  shalt  the  nought  de- 

speire, 

Thy  lepre  shall  no  more  empeire 
Till  thou  wolt  sende  therupon 
Unto  the  mount  of  Celion, 
Where  that  Silvdster  and  his  clergie 
To-gider  dwelle  in  compaignie 
For  drede  of  the,  which  many  a  day 
Hast  ben  a  fo  to  Cristes  lay l 
And  hastdestruied  tomochel  shame 
The  prechours  of  his  holy  name. 
But  now  thou  hast  somdele  appesed 
Thy    God    and    with    good    dede" 

plesed, 

That  thou  thy  pite  hast  bewared 
Upon  the  blood  which  thou  hast 

spared. 

Forthy  to  thy  salvacion 
Thou  shalt  have  information, 
Such  as  Silvester  shall  the  teche, 
The  nedeth  of  none  other  leche.' 
This    emperour,    whiche    all    this 

herde  : 

'  Graunt  mercy  Lorde,he  answerde, 
I  woll  do  so  as  ye  me  say. 
But  of  o  thing  I  woldd  pray, 
What  shall  I  telle  unto  Silvestre 
Or  of  your  name  or  of  your  estre  ?"  2 
And  they  him  tolden   what  they 

hight 

And  forth  with  all  oute  of  his  sight 
They  passen  up  into  the  heven. 
And  he  awoke  out  of  his  sweven  3 
And  clepeth,  and  men  come  anone 
And  tolde  his  dreme,  and  therupon 
In  suche  a  wise  as  he  hem  telleth 
The    mount    wher    that    Silvester 

dwelleth 

They  have  in  alle  haste  sought, 
And  founde  he  was,  and  with  hem 

brought 
To  themperoiir,  which  to  him  tolde 

1  Lay,  law,  faith.  2  Estre,  being. 

a  Sweven ,  dream. 


BOOK  II. —ENVY. 


141 


His  sweven  and  elles  what  he  wolde. 
And  whan  Silvdster  hath  herd  the 

king 

He  was  right  joyfull  of  this  thing, 
And  him  began  with  all  his  wit 
To  techen  upon  Holy  Writ. 
First  how  mankinde  was  forlore, 
And  how  the  highe  God  therfore 
His  Sone  sende  from  above, 
Which  bore  was  for  mannds  love; 
And  after  of  his  owne  chois 
He  toke  his  deth  upon  the  crois; 
And  how  in  grave  he  was  beloke, 
And  how  that  he  hath  helle  broke 
And  toke  hem  out  that  were  him 

leve.1 

And  for  to  make  us  full  beleve 
That  he  was  verray  Goddes  Sone 
Ayein  the  kinde  of  mannes  wone 
Fro  deth  he  rose  the  thriddd  day. 
And  whan  he  wolde,  as  he  well 

may, 

He  stigh  up  to  his  Father  even 
With   flessh    and   blood    into  the 

heven; 

And  right  so  in  the  same*  forme, 
In  flessh  and  blood,  he  shall  re- 

torne, 
Whan  time  cometh,  to  quicke  and 

dede 

At  thilkd  wofull  Day  of  Drede, 
Where  every  man  shall  take  his 

dome 

Als  well  the  maister  as  the  grome. 
The  mighty  kingds  retenue 
That  Day  may  stonde  of  no  value 
With  world<5s  strengthd  to  defende ; 
For  every  man  mot  than  entende 
To  stond  upon  his  ownd  dedes 
And  leve  all  other  mennes  nedes. 
That  Day  may  no  counsdil  availe, 
The  pledour  and  the  plee  shall faile ; 
The  sentence  of  that  ilke  day 
May  none  appele  sette  in  delay; 

,  dear. 


There  may  no  gold  the  jugd  plie 
That  he  ne  shall  the  sothd  trie 
And  setten  every  man  upright, 
As  well  the  plowman  as  the  knight. 
The  leudd  man,  the  gretd  clerke 
Shall  stonde  upon  his  owne  werke ; 
And  suche  as  he  is  foundd  tho, 
Such  shall  he  be  for  evermo, 
There  may  no  peind  be  relesed, 
There  may  no  joid  ben  encresed, 
But  enddles  as  they  have  do 
He  shall  receive  one  of  two. 

"  And    thus    Silvester  with    his 

sawe 

The  ground  of  all  the  newd  lawe 
With  great  devocion  he  precheth 
Fro  point  to  point  and  plainly 

techeth 

Unto  this  hethen  emperour 
And  saith  :  *  The  highe  Creatour 
Hath  underfonge  his  Charite 
Of  that  he  wroughtd  suche  pite, 
Whan  he  the  children  had  on  honde.' 
"  Thus  whan  this  lord  hath  un- 

derstonde 

Of  all  this  thing  how  that  it  ferde, 
Unto  Silvdster  he  than  answerde 
With  all  his  hole  herte  and  saith, 
That  he  is  redy  to  the  feith. 
And  so  the  vessell,  which  for  blood 
Was  made,  Silvdster,  there  *  it  stood 
With  clene  water  of  the  welle 
In  alle  haste  he  let  do  felle 
And  sette  Constantin  therinne 
All  naked  up  unto  the  chinne. 
And  in  the  while  it  was  begunnc, 
A  light,  as  though  it  were  a  sunne, 
Fro  heven  into  the  place  come 
WThere  that  he  toke  his  christen - 

dome, 

And  ever  amonge  the  holy  tales 
Lich  as  they  weren  fisshes  scales 
They  fellen  from  him  now  and  efte, 
Till  that  there  was  nothing  belefte 

1   There,  where. 


142 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  all  this  grete  maladie. 
For  he  that  wolde  him  purifie 
The   highe   God  hath   made  him 

dene, 

So  that  there  lefte  nothing  sene. 
He  hath  him  clensed  bothe  two 
The  body  and  the  soule  also. 
Tho  l  knew  this  emperour  in  dede, 
That  Cristes  feith  was  for  to  drede, 
And  sende  anone  his  lettefs  out 
And  let  do  crien  all  aboute 
Up   pein  of  deth,    that    no    man 

weive, 

That  he  baptisme  ne  receive. 
After  his  moder  queue  Eleine 
He  sende,  and  so  betwene  hem 

tweine 

They  treten,  that  the  citee  all 
Was  christned,  and  she  forth  with 

all. 
This   emperour,   which   hele  hath 

found, 

Withinne  Rome  anone  let  founde 
Two  churches,  which  that  he  did 

make  2 

For  Peter  and  for  Poules  sake, 
Of  whom  he  hadde  a  vision 
And  yaf  therto  possession 
Of  lordship  and  of  worldes  good. 
And  how  so  that  his  will  was  good 
Toward  the  Pope  and  his  fraunchise, 
Yet  hath  it  proved  otherwise 
To  se  the  worching  of  the  dede. 
For  in  cronique  thus  I  rede 
Anone  as  he  hath  made  the  yefte 
A  vois  was  herde  on  high  the  lefte,3 
Of  which  all  Rome  was  adradde 
And  said :    '  This   day   is    venim 

shadde 
In  Holy  Chirche,  of  temporall 

1  Tho,  then. 

-  Dili  make,  caused  to 'be  made. 

3  Leftet  air. 


Which  medleth1  with  thespirituall.' 
And  how  it  stant  of  that  degre 
Yet  a  man  may  the  sothe  se, 
God  may  amende  it,  whan  he  wille, 
I  can  therto  none  other  skille. 
But  for  to  go  there  I  began, 
How  Charite  may  helpe  a  man 
To  bothe  worlde's,  I  have  saide. 
And  if  thou  have  an  ere  laide, 
My  sone,  thou  might  understondc, 
If  Charite'  be  take  on  honde, 
There  folweth  after  mochel  grace. 
Forthy  if  that  thou  wolt  purchace 
How  that  thou  might  Envi£  flee, 
Acqueint^  the  with  Charite, 
Whicheis  theVertue  Sovereine." — 

"  My  fader,  I  shall  do  my  peine. 
For  this  ensample  whiche  ye  tolcle 
With  all  min  herte  I  have  witholdc, 
So  that  I  shall  for  evermore 
Escheue  Envie  well  the  more. 
And  that  I  have  er  this  misdo 
Yive  me  my  penaunce  er  I  go. 
And  over  that  to  my  matere 
Of  shrifte,  why  we  sitten  here 
In  privete  betwene  us  twey, 
Now  axeth  what  there  is  I  prey." — 

"  My  gode'  sone,  and  for  thy  lore 
I  woll  the  telle  what  is  more, 
So  that  thou  shalt  the  Vices  knowe. 
For  whan    they   be    to    thee    full 

knowe, 
Thou  might  hem  wel   the  better 

eschue. 

And  for  this  cause  I  thenk£  sue 
The  formd  bothe  and  the  matere, 
As  now  suende  thou  shalt  here, 
Which  Vied  stant  nexte  after  this. 
And  whan  thou  wost  how  that  it  is, 
As  thou  shalt  here  my  devise, 
Thou  might  thyself  the  better  avise. 

i  Medlet/i,  mingleth. 


-HE. 


OF    WRATH. 


ffjOlt  the  Vices  list  to  knowe, 
My  sone,  it  hath  nought  be 

unknowe 
Fro  first  that  men  their  swerdes 

grounde, 
That    there    nis    one    upon    this 

grounde 

A  Vice  foreine  fro  the  lawe, 
Wherof  that  many  a  good  felawe 
Hath    be    destraught    by   sodein 

chaunce. 

And  yet  to  kinde  no  plesaunce 
It  doth,  but  where  he  most  acheveth 
His   purpose,   most   to   kinde   he 

greveth, 

As  he  whiche  out  of  conscience 
Is  enemy  unto  pacie'nce. 
And  is  by  name  one  of  the  Seven, 
Whiche  oft  hath  set  the  world  un 
even, 

And  clepe'd  is  the  cruel  Ire, 
Whose  herte  is  evermore  on  fire 
To  speke  amis,  and  to  do,  bothe, 
For  his  servaunts  ben  ever  wrothe." 

"My  gode  fader,  tell  me  this 
What  thinge  is  Ire*  ? " — "  Sone,  it  is 
That  in  our  englissh  Wrath  is  hote, 
Whiche  hath  his  wordes  ay  so  hole, 
That  all  a  mannes  pacfence 
Is  fired  of  the  violence. 
For  he  with  him  hath  ever  five 
Servaunts,  that  helpen  him  to  strive. 
The  first  of  hem  Malencoly 


Is  cleped,  whiche  in  compaignie 
An  hundred  time's  in  an  houre 
Woll  as  an  angry  beste  loure. 
And  no  man  wot  the  cause  why. 
My  sone",  shrive  the  now  forth  y, 
Hast  thou  be  Malencolien  ?  "- 
"  Ye  fader,  by  saint  Jtilien. 
But 1  I  untrewe  worde's  use 
I  may  me  nought  therof  excuse. 
And  all  maketh  Love,  well  I  wote, 
Of  which  min  herte  is  ever  hote, 
So  that  I  brenne  as  dothe  a  glede 
For   wrathd    that    I    may  nought 

spede. 

And  thus  full  oft  a  day  for  nought 
Saufe  onlich  of  min  owne  thought 
I  am  so  with  my  selven  wroth, 
That  how  so  that  the  game  goth 
With  other  men,  I  am  nought  glad 
But  I  am  well  the  more  unglad ; 
For  that  is  other  menne's  game 
It  torneth  me  to  pure'  grame.2 
Thus  am  I  with  my  self  oppressed 
Of  thought  the  whiche  I  have  im 
pressed, 

That  all  wakdnd  I  dreme  and  mete,:' 
That  I  with  her  alone  mete  4 
And  pray  her  of  some  good  answerc. 
But  for  she  wol  nought  gladly  swerc. 
She  saith  me  '  Nay '  withouten  othe. 
And  thus  waxe  I  withinnd  wrothe 


/>'«/,  unless. 
Metet  dream. 


'-'  Grume,  •vexation. 
*  Mtte,  meet 


144 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


That  outward  I  am  all  arTraied 
And  so  distempred  and  so  esmaied, 
A  thousand  times  on  a  day 
There  souneth  in  min  eres  '  Nay,' 
The  which  she  saide*  me  to-fore. 
Thus  be  my  wittes  all  forlore. 
And  name'ly1  whan  I  beginne 
To  reken  with  my  self  withinne, 
How  many  yeres  ben  agone, 
Sith  I  have  truely  love'd  one 
And  never  toke  of  her  other  hede, 
And  ever  a  liche'  for  to  spede 
I  am,  the  more  I  with  her  dele, 
So  that  min  hap  and  all  min  hele 
Me  thenketh  is  ay  the  lenger  the 

ferre.2 
That  bringeth  my  gladship  out  of 

herre, 

Wherof  my  wine's  ben  empeired 
And  I,  as  who  saith,  all  dispeired, 
For  finally  whan  that  I  muse 
And  thenke,  how  she  woll  me  re 
fuse, 

I  am  with  Anger  so  bestad, 
For  al  this  world  might  I  be  glad. 
And  for  the  while"  that  it  lasteth 
All  up  so  down  my  joie  it  casteth, 
And  ay  the  further  that  I  be 
Whan  I  ne  may  my  lady  se, 
The  more  I  am  redy  to  Wrathe, 
That  for  the  touching  of  a  lath 
Or  for  the  torning  of  a  stre  3 
I  wode  4  as  doth  the  wilde  see 
And  am  so  malencolious, 
That  there  nis   servaunt    in   min 

house 

Ne  none  of  tho  that  be  aboute, 
That  eche  of  hem  ne  stant  in  doute 
And  wenen  that  I  shulde  rave, 
For  anger  that  they  se  me  have. 
And  so  they  wonder  more  and  lasse, 
Til  that  they  seen  it  bverpasse. 
But  fader,  if  it  so  betide, 

1  Xante  ly,  especially.     -  Feyre^  farther. 
3  Stre,  straw.  *  H'orfe,  rage  madly. 


That  I  approche  at  any  tide 
The  place  where  my  lady  is, 
And  thanne'  that  her  like  iwis 
To  speke  a  goodly  word  unto  me, 
For  all  the  gold  that  is  in  Rome" 
Ne  couth  I  after  that  be  wroth, 
But  all  min  anger  overgoth. 
So  glad  I  am  of  the  presence 
Of  hir<£,  that  I  all  offence 
Foryete,  as  though  it  were  nought 
So  over  glad  is  than  my  thought. 
And  netheles,  the  soth  to  telle, 
Ayeinward  if  it  so  befelle, 
That  I  at  thilkd  time'  sigh 
On  me  that  she  miscaste  her  eye, 
Or  that  she  liste  nought  to  loke, 
And  I  therof  good  hede  toke, 
Anone  into  my  first  estate 
I  torne  and  am  with  that  so  mate,1 
That  ever  it  is  aliche  wicke. 
And   thus    min  honde  ayein    the 

pricke 

I  hurte  and  have  don  many  a  day, 
And  go  so  forth  as  I  go  may 
Full  ofte  biting  on  my  lippe 
And  make  unto  rny  self  a  whippe 
With  whiche  in  many  a  chele  and 

hete 

My  wofull  herte  is  so  tobete,2 
That  all  my  wittes  ben  unsofte, 
And  I  am  wrothe  I  not 3  how  ofte. 
And  all  it  is  malencolie, 
Which  groweth  on  the  fantasie 
Of   Love    that    me    woll    nought 

loute.4 

So  bere  I  forth  an  angry  snoute 
Full  many  times  in  a  yere. 
But  fader,  now  ye  sitten  here 
In  Loves  stede,  I  you  beseche, 
That  some  ensample  ye  me  teche, 
Wherof  I  may  my  self  appese."'- 
"  My  sone,  for  thin  hertes  ese 

1  Mate,  deadened  in  spirit. 

-  Toiete,  to  is  an  intensive  prefix. 

y  Not,  know  not. 

4  Love  that  will  not  bow  to  me. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


I  shall  fulfille  thy  praicic. 
So  that  thou  might  the  better  lerc, 
What  mischefe  that  this  Vice  stereth, 
Whiche  in  his  anger  nought  for- 

bereth, 

Wherof  that  after  him  forthenketh, 
Whan   he   is  sobre,  and  that  he 

thenketh 

Upon  the  folie  of  his  dede. 
But  if  thou  ever  in  cause  of  Love 
Shalt  deme,  and  thou  be  so  above 
That  thou  might  lede  it  at  thy  wille, 
Let  never  through  thy  Wrathe  spille 
Whiche  every  kinde*  shulde  save. 
For  it  sit  every  man  to  have 
Reward  to  love  and  to  his  might, 
Ayein  whos  strengthe  may  no  wight. 
What  Nature  hath  set  in  her  lawe, 
Ther  may  no  manne's  might  with- 

drawe, 

And  who  that  worcheth  thereayein, 
Full  ofte*  time  it  hath  be  sein, 
There     hath    befalle    great    ven- 

geaunce, 
Wherof  I  finde  a  remembraunce. 

"  g>t>ioe  after  the  time  tho 
Tolde  an  ensample  and  saide  so, 
How  that  whilom  Tiresias, 
As  he  walke'nde'  goth  par  cas, 
Upon  an  high  mountein  he  sigh 
Two  serpentes  in  his  waie  nigh. 
And  they  so,  as  nature  hem  taught, 
Assembled  were,  and  he  tho  cought 
A  yerde,  which  he  bare  on  honde, 
And  thought^,  that  he  wolde  fonde1 
To  letten  hem,  and  smote  hem  bothe, 
Wherof  the  goddes  weren  wrothe. 
And  for  he  hath  destourbed  kinde 
And  was  so  to  Nature  unkinde, 
Unkindelich  he  was  transformed, 
That  he,   which  erst  a  man  was 

formed, 

Into  a  woman  was  forshape  ; 
That  was  to  him  an  angry  jape. 

1  F&nde,  try. 


But  for  that  he  with  anger  wrought 
His  anger  angerliche  he  bought. 

"  Lo,  thus  my  sone,  Ovide  hath 

write, 

Wherof  thou  might  by  reson  wite 
More  is  a  man  than  suche  a  beste. 
So  might  it  never  ben  honeste 
A  man  to  wrathen  him  to  sore 
Of  that  another  doth  the  lore 
Of  kinde,  in  whiche  is  no  malice, 
But  only  that  it  is  a  Vice. 
And  though  a  man  be  resondble, 
Vet  after  kinde  he  is  mevdble 
To  love  where 1  he  woll  or  none. 
Thenk  thou,  my  sone,  therupon 
And  do  Malencolie  awey, 
For  love  hath  ever  his  lust  to  pley 
As  he  which  wold  no  life  greve." — 

"  My  fader,  that  I  may  well  leve  - 
All  that  ye  tellen  it  is  skille,3 
Let  every  man  love  as  he  wille, 
Be  so  it  be  nought  my  lady, 
For  I  shall  nought  be  wroth  thereby. 
But  that  I  wrath  and  fare  amis 
Alone  upon  my  self  it  is, 
That  I  with  bothe  love  and  kinde 
Am  so  bestad,  that  I  can  finde 
No  wey  howe  I  it  may  astert, 
Which  stant  upon  min  owne  hert 
And  toucheth  to  none  other  life 
Sauf  onely  to  that  swete  wife, 
For  whom,  but  if  it  be  amended, 
My  gladde  dale's  ben  dispended, 
That  I  my  self  shall  nought  forbere 
The  Wrath  the  whiche*  now  I  bere, 
For  therof  is  none  other  liche. 
Nowe  axeth  forth  I  you  beseche 
Of  Wrathe,  if  there  ought  die's  is, 
Wherof  to  shrive*." — "  Sone  yis. 

Of  Wrathe  the  secdnd  is  Chest,4 
Which  hath  the  winde's  of  tempest 
To  kepe,  and  many  a  sodein  blast 
He  bloweth,  wherof  ben  agast 


2  Lav,  believe. 
*  Chest,  strife. 


,  whether. 
3  Skillf,  reason. 


146 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


They  that  desiren  pees  and  rest. 
He  is  that  ilke  ungoodliest, 
Which    many   a    lusty    love    hath 

twinned, 

For  he  bereth  ever  his  mouth  un 
pinned, 

So  that  his  lippes  ben  unloke 
And  his  cordge  is  all  to-broke, 
That  every  thing  which  e  he  can  telle, 
It  springeth  up  as  doth  a  welle, 
Which  may  none  of  his  stremes  hide, 
But  renneth  out  on  every  side. 
So  boilen  up  the  foule  sawes, 
That  Cheste'  wote  l  of  his  felawes. 
For  as  a  sive  2  kepeth  ale, 
Right  so  can  cheste  kepe  a  tale ; 
All  that  he  wote  he  woll  disclose 
And  speke  er  any  man  oppose. 
As  a  citee  withoute  a  walle, 
Where  men  may  gon  out  overalle 
Withouten  any  resistance, 
So  with  his  croked  eloquence 
He  speketh  all  that  he  wot  withinne, 
Wherof  men  lese  more  than  winne. 
For  often  time  of  his  chiding 
He  bringeth  to  house*  such  tiding 
That  make'th  werre  at  bedde's  hede. 
He  is  the  levein  of  the  brede 
Which  soureth  all  the  past 3  about. 
Men  ought  well  suche  one  to  doute.4 
For  ever  his  bowe  is  redy  bent, 
Andwhome  he  hit  I  tell  him  shent,5 
If  he  may  perce  him  with  his  tonge. 
And  eke  so  loude  his  belle  is  ronge, 
That  of  the  noise  and  of  the  soune 
Men  feren  him  in  all  the  towne 
Well    more    than    they    done    of 

thonder ; 

For  that  is  cause  of  more*  wonder. 
For   with   the   winded,   which   he 
bloweth, 

1  Wote,  knows.  2  sive,  sieve. 

a  The  leaven  of  the  bread  that  turns  all  the 
paste  sour. 
4  Doute,  fear. 
:>  I  tell  him  shent,  I  count  him  put  to  shame. 


Full  oftd  sith  he  overthroweth 
The  citees  and  the  polecie. 
That  I  have  herd  the  people  crie 
And  echone  saide  in  his  degre: 
'  Ha,  wickd  tunge,  wo  thou  be  ! J 
For  men  sain,  that  the  harde'bone — 
All  though  him  selve  have  none — 
A  tunge  braketh  it  all  to  pieces. 
He  hath  so  many  sondry  spieces  l 
Of  Vice,  that  I  may  nought  wele 
Descrive  hem  by  a  thousand  dele.2 
But  whan  that  he  to  Cheste  falleth, 
Full  many  a  wonder  thing  befalleth, 
For  he  ne  can  no  thing  forbere. 
Now  tell,  my  sone,  thin  answere, 
If  it  hath  ever  so  betid, 
That  thou  at  any  time  hast  chid 
Toward  thy  love." — "  Fader,  nay. 
Such  Cheste  yet  unto  this  day 
Ne  made  I  never,  God  forbede. 
For  er  I  singe'  suche  a  crede, 
I  hadde  lever  to  be  lewed, 
For  thanne  were  I  all  beshre\ved 
And  worthy  to  be  put  abacke 
With  all  the  sorwe  upon  my  backe, 
That  any  man  ordeigne  couthe. 
But  I  spake  never  yet  by  mouthe 
That  unto  Cheste  mighte  touche. 
And  that  I  durst  right  wel  avouche 
Upon  her  selfe  as  for  witnesse. 
For  I  wote  of  her  gentilesse, 
That  she  me  wolde  wel  excuse, 
That  I  no  suche*  thinge's  use. 
And  if  it  shulde  so  betid, 
That  I  algates  must  chid, 
It  mightd  nought  be  to  my  Love. 
For  so  yet  was  I  never  above 
For  all  this  wide*  world  to  winne, 
That  I  durst  any  word  beginne, 
By    which    she    might    have    ben 

amoved, 

And  I  of  Cheste  also  reproved. 
But  rather  if  it  might  her  like, 


1  Spieces,  species,  kinds, 

2  By  a  thousandth  part. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


The  beste  worries  wolde  I  pike  l 
Whiche  I  couthe  in  min  herte  chese 
And  serve  hem  forth  in  stede  of  chese, 
For  that  is  helpelich  to  defie;  2 
And  so  I  wolde  my  wordes  plie, 
That  mighten  Wrath  and  Cheste  i 

avale :; 

With  telling  of  my  softs'  tale. 
Thus  dar  I  maken  a  forwdrd, 
That  never  unto  my  lady  ward 
Yet  spake  I  word  in  suche  a  wise, 
Wherof  that  Cheste  shulde  arise. 
Thus  say  I  nought  that  I  full  ofte 
Ne  have,  whan  I  spake  most  softe, 
Par  cas  said  more  than  inough; 
But  so  well  halt  no  man  the  plough,  i 
That  he  ne  balketh  other  while; 
Ne  so  wel  can  no  man  afftle 
His  tunge',  that  somtime  in  rape  4 
Him  may  somelight  word  overscape, 
And  yet  ne  meneth  he  no  cheste. 
But  that  I  have  ayein  her  heste 
Full  ofte'  spoke,  I  am  beknowe.5 
And  how,  my  wille  is  that  ye  knowe ; 
For  whan  my  time  cometh  about 
That  I  dar  speke  and  say  all  out 
My  longe  love  of  which  she  wot, 
That  ever  in  one  aliche  hot 
Me  greveth,  than  all  my  disese 
I  telle,  and  though  it  her  displese 
I  speke  it  forth  and  nought  ne  leve. 
And  though  it  be  beside  her  leve 
I  hope  and  trowe  nethe'les, 
That  I  do  nought  ayein  the  pees. 
For  though  I  telle  her  all  my  thought, 
She  wot  well  that  I  chide  nought. 
Men  may  the  highs'  God  beseche, 
And  he  wol  here  a  mannes  speche 
And  be  nought  wroth  of  th  at  he  saith, 
So  yiveth  it  me  the  more  feith 
And  maketh  me  hardy  soth  to  say, 

i  Pike,  pick. 

-  Defie,  digest.     This  belief  was  the  origin 
of  the  old  custom  of  ending  dinner  with  cheese. 
3  Avalf,  bring  down.  *  Kafe,  haste,    i 

5  I  confess 


That  I  dar  wel  the  better  prey 
My  lady,  whiche  a  woman  is. 
For  though  I  telle  her  that  er  is 
Of  lovd,  which  me  greveth  sore, 
Her  oughte  nought  be  wroth  the 

more, 

For  I  withoute  noise  or  cry 
My  plainte  make  all  buxomly, 
To  putten  alle  Wrath  away, 
This  dar  I  say  unto  this  day 
Of  Cheste,  in  ernest  or  in  game, 
My  lady  shall  me  no  thing  blame. 

"  But  ofte  time  it  hath  betid, 
That  with  my  selven  I  have  chid, 
That  no  man  couthe  better  chide, 
And  that  hath  ben  at  every  tide, 
Whan  I  cam  to  my  selve  alone. 
For  than  I  made  a  prive  mone, 
And  every  tale  by  and  by 
Whiche  as  I  spake  to  my  lad^, 
I  thenke  and  peise  in  my  balaunce 
And  drawe  into  my  remembraunce. 
And  than,  if  that  I  finde  a  lacke 
Of  any  word  that  I  misspake, 
Which  was  to  moche  in  any  wise, 
Anone  my  witte's  I  despise 
And  make  a  chiding  in  min  herte 
That  any  word  me  shulde  asterte  1 
Whicheas  I  shuldehaveholdeninne 
And  so  forth  after  I  beginne 
And  loke  if  there  was  elles  ought 
To  speke,  and  1  ne  spake  it  nought. 
And  than  if  I  may  seche  and  finde, 
That  any  word  ben  left  behinde, 
Whicheas  I  shulde  more  have  spoke, 
I  wold  upon  my  self  be  wroke 
And  chide*  with  my  selven  so, 
That  all  my  wit  is  over-go. 
For  no  man  may  his  time'  lore 
Recover,  and  thus  I  am  therfore 
So  overwroth  in  all  my  thought, 
That  I  my  self  chide  all  to  nought. 
Thus  for  to  moche,  or  for  to  lite, 
Full  ofte  I  am  my  self  to  wite.2 

1  Asttrtf,  escap«.  -   ll'itt,  blame. 


148 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  all  that  may  me  nought  availe, 
With  Chestd  though  I  me  travaile, 
But  oule  on  stoke  and  stoke  on  oule 
The  more*  that  a  man  defoule, 
Men  witen  wel  which  hath  the  werse. 
And  so  to  me  nis  worth  a  kerse,1 
But  torneth  unto  min  ownd  hede, 
Though  I  till  that  I  were  dede 
Wolde  ever  chide  in  suche  a  wise 
Of  Love,  as  I  to  you  devise. 
But  fader,  now  ye  have  all  herd 
In  this  mane"r,  howe  I  have  ferd 
Of  Cheste  and  of  Dissension, 
Yif  me  your  absolucion." — 

"My  sone,  if  thatthou  wistest  all, 
What  Chest^  doth  in  speciall 
To  love  and  to  his  welwilling, 
Thou  woldest  fleen  his  knowleching 
And  lerne"  to  be  debonaire. 
For  who  that  most  can  spekd  faire 
Is  most  accordend  unto  love. 
Fair  speche  hathoftd  brought  above 
Full  many  a  man,  as  it  is  knowe, 
Whiche  elles  shuld  have  ben  right 

lowe 

And  failed  mochel  of  his  wille. 
Forth^  hold  thou  thy  tunge  stille 
And  let  thy  wit  thy  will  areste 
So  that  thou  falle  nought  in  cheste, 
Whiche  is  the  source  of  great  dis- 

taunce, 

And  take  into  thy  r^membraunce, 
If  thou  might  get£  pacience, 
Which  is  the  leche  of  all  offence, 
As  tellen  us  these  oldd  wise. 
For  whan  nought  elle"s  may  suffise 
By  strength^  ne  by  mannas  wit, 
Than  pacience  it  over  sit 
And  over  cometh  it  at  laste. 
But  he  may  never  longd  laste, 
Which  woll  nought  bow  er  that  he 

breke. 

Take  hede,  sone,  of  that  I  speke."- 
"  My  fader,  of  your  goodly  speche 

1  Kerse,  cress. 


And  of  the  wit,  whiche  ye  me  teche, 
I  thonkd  you  with  all  min  hert. 
For  that  word  shall  me  never  astert, 
That  I  ne  shall  your  wordes  holde 
Of  pacience,  as  ye  me  tolde, 
Als  ferforth  as  min  hert£  thenketh 
And  of  my  Wrath  it  me  forthenketh. 
But  fader,  if  ye  forth  with  all 
Some  good  ensample  in  speciall, 
Me  wolden  teche  of  some  cronique, 
It  shulde  well  min  herte  like 
Of  pacience  for  to  here, 
So  that  I  might  in  my  matere 
The  more  unto  my  love  obey 
And  putten  my  disese  awey." — 
"  IJflg  sone,  a  man  to  bye  him 

pees 

Behoveth  suffre  as  Socrates 
Ensample  lefte,  whiche  is  write, 
And  for  thou  shalt  the  sothe  wite 
Of  this  ensample,  what  I  mene, 
All  though  it  be  now  litel  sene 
Among  the  men  thilke  evidence, 
Yet  he  was  upon  pacience 
So  set,  that  he  him  self  assay 
In  thing,  which  might  him  most 

mispay, 

Desireth  and  a  wicked  wife 
He  weddeth,  which  is  sorwe  and 

strife 

Ayein  his  ese  was  contraire. 
But  he  spake  ever  soft  and  faire, 
Till  it  befell,  as  it  is  tolde, 
In  winter,  whan  the  day  is  colde, 
This  wife  was  fro  the  welle*  come, 
Where  that  a  pot  with  water  nome l 
She  hath  and  brought  it  into  house, 
And  sigh  how  that  her  sely  spouse 
Was  set  and  looked  on  a  boke 
Nigh  to  the  fire,  as  he  which  toke 
His  ese  as  for  a  man  of  age. 
And  she  began  the  wodd  rage 
And  axeth  him,  what  di vel  he  thought 
And  bare  on  hond,  that  him  ne  rought 

1  Nome,  taken. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


149 


What  labour  that  she  tokeonhonde, 
And  saith,  that  suche  an  huse'bonde 
Was  to  a  wife  nought  worth  a  stre.1 
He  saide  nouther  nay  ne  ye, 
But  helde  him  stille  and  Icte  her 

chide. 
And  she,  which  may  her  self  nought 

hide, 

Began  withinne*  for  to  swelle 
And  that  she  brought  in  fro  the  welle, 
The  water  pot,  she  hent  a  lofte 
And  bad  him  speke,  and  he  all  softe 
Sat  stilleandnoughta  word  answerd. 
And  she  was  wroth  that  he  so  ferd, 
And  axeth  him,  if  he  be  dede, 
And  all  the  water  on  his  hede 
She  poured  out  and  bad  him  awake. 
But  he,  whiche  wolde*  nought  forsake 
His  pacience*,  thanne  spake 
And  said,  how  that  he  fond  no  lake 
In  nothing  which  she  hadde  do, 
For  it  was  winter  time  tho, 
And  winter,  as  by  wey  of  kinde, 
Which  stormy  is  as  men  it  finde, 
First  maketh  thewinde's  for  toblowe 
And  after  that,  within  a  throwe, 
He  reineth  and  the  water  gates 
Undoth,  and  thus  my  wife  algates, 
Which  is  with  reson  well  besein, 
Hath  made  mebothe  winde  and  rein 
After  the  seson  of  the  yere. 
And  than  he  set  him  ner  the  fire 
And  as  he  might  his  clothes  dreide,2 
That  he  nomore  o  word  ne  saide, 
Wherof  he  gat  him  somdele  rest, 
For  that  him  thought  was  for  the 

best. 

"  I  not 3  if  thilke  ensample  yit 
Accordeth  with  a  manne's  wit 
To  sufTre  as  Socrdtes  dede. 
And  if  it  fal  in  any  stede 
A  man  to  lese  so  his  galle, 


*  Stre,  straw. 

-  Dried  his  clothes  as  well  as  he  could. 
3  Not,  know  not. 


Him  ought  among  the  women  alle 
In  Love  court  by  jugement 
The  name  bere  of  pacient 
To  yive  ensample  to  the  good 
Of  pacience  how  that  it  stood, 
That  other  men  it  mighte  knowe. 
And,  sone,  if  thou  at  any  throwe 
Be  tempted  ayein  pacience, 
Take  hede  upon  this  evidence, 
It  shall  par  cas  the  lasse*  greve." — 

"  My  fader,  so  as  I  believe 
Of  that  shall  be  no  maner  nede, 
For  I  woll  take  so  good  hede, 
That  er  I  fall  in  suche  assay 
I  thinke  escheue,  if  that  I  may. 
But  if  there  be  ought  elles  more, 
\Vheref  I  mighte"  take*  lore 
I  praie'  you,  so  as  I  dare, 
Now  telleth,  that  I  may  beware, 
Some  other  tale  of  this  mater." — 

"  Sone,  it  is  ever  good  to  lere 
Wherof  thou  might  thy  word  re- 

streigne 

Er  that  thou  falle  in  any  peine. 
For  who  that  can  no  counseil  hide, 
He  may  nought  faile  of  wo  beside, 
Which  shall  befalle,  er  he  it  wite, 
As  I  finde  in  the  bokds  write. 

Yet  cam  therenever  good  of  stride 
To  seche  in  all  a  manne's  life, 
Though  it  beginne  on  pure*  game 
Full  ofte  it  torneth  into  grame 
And  doth  grevaiince  on  some  side. 
Wherof  the  gretd  clerk  Ovide 
After  the  lawe"  which  was  tho, 
Of  Jupiter  and  of  Juno 
Maketh  in  his  bokds  mencion, 
How  they  felle  at  dissencion, 
In  manner  as  it  were  a  borde,1 
As  they  begunnd  for  to  worde 
Among  hem  self  in  privdtc. 
And  that  was  upon  this  degrd, 
Whiche  of  the  two  more  amorous  is 
Or  man  or  wife.  -  And  upon  this 

1    Horde,  jest. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


They  mighten  nought  accordeinone 

And  toke  a  juge  therupon, 

Which  cleped  is  Tiresias 

And  bede  him  demen  in  this  cas. 

And  he  withoute  avisement 

Ayein  Juno  yaf  jugement. 

This  Goddesse  upon  his  answe're 

Was  wroth  a.nd  wolde  nought  for- 

bere, 

But  tok  awey  for  evermo 
The  light  from  both  his  eyen  two. 
Whan  Jupiter  this  harm  hath  sein 
Another  bienfait  there  ayein 
He  yaf  and  suche  a  grace  him  doth 
That,  for  he  wiste  he  saide  soth, 
A  soth-saier  he  was  for  ever. 
But  yet  that  other  were  lever 
Have  had  the  loking  of  his  eye 
Than  of  his  word  the  prophecie. 
But  how  so  that  the  sothe  went, 
Strife  was  the  cause  of  that  he  hent 
So  great  a  peine  bodily. 

"  My  sone,  be  thou  ware  thereby 
And  hold  thy  tunge  stille  close, 
For  who  that  hath  his  word  disclose 
Er  that  he  wite  what  he  mene 
He  is  full  ofte  nigh  his  tene 1 
And  leseth  full  many  time  grace, 
Wher  that  he  wold  his  thank  pur- 

chace. 

And  over  this,  my  sone  dere, 
Of  other  men,  if  thou  might  here 
In  privite  what  they  have  wrought, 
Holdcounseilanddiscoveritnought, 
For  Cheste  can  no  counseil  hele,2 
Or  be  it  wo  or  be  it  wele, 
And  take  a  tale  into  thy  minde, 
The  which  of  olde  ensample  I  finde. 

Debits,  which maketh the  daies 

light, 

A  love  he  hadde,  which  tho  hight 
Cornide,  whom  aboven  alle 
He  pleseth.     But  what  shall  befalle 
Of  love,  there  is  no  man  knoweth. 

1  Tene,  vexation.        -  Hele,  conceal. 


But  as  fortune  her  happes  throweth, 

So  it  befell  upon  a  chaunce, 

A  yong  knight  toke  her  acqueint- 

aunce 

And  had  of  her  all  that  he  wolde. 
But  afals  bird,  which  she  hath  holde 
And  kept  in  chambre  of  pure  youthe 
Discovereth  all  that  ever  he  couthe. 
The  briddes  name  was  as  tho 
Corvus,  the  which  was  than  also 
Well  more  white  than  any  swan, 
And  he,  the  shrewe,  al  that  he  can 
Of  his  lady  to  Phebus  saide. 
And  he  for  wrath  his  swerd    out 

braide, 
With    which     Cornide    anone    he 

slough. 

But  after,  him  was  wo  inough 
And  toke  a  full  great  repentaunce, 
Wherof  in  token  andremembraunce 
Of  hem  whiche  usen  wicke  speche, 
Upon  this  brid  he  toke  his  wreche, 
That  there  he  was  snow-white  to-fore 
Ever  afterward  cole  black  therfbre 
He  was  transformed,  as  it  sheweth. 
Andmany  aman  yethimbeshreweth 
And  clepen  him  into  this  day 
A  raven,  by  whom  yet  men  may 
Take  evidence,  whan  he  crieth, 
That  some  mishap  it  signifieth. 
Beware  therfore  and  say  the  best, 
If  thou  wolt  be  thy  self  in  rest, 
My  gode  sone,  as  I  the  rede. 
And  suche  a  daies  be  now  fele  * 
In  Loves  Courte,  as  it  is  saide, 
That  let  her  tunge's  gone  unteide. 
My  sone,  be  thou  none  of  tho 
To  jangle  and  telle  tales  so, 
And  namely  2  that  thou  ne  chide, 
For  Cheste  can  no  counseil  hide, 
For  W  rathe  saide  never  wele." — 
"  My  fader,  sothe  is  every  dele, 
That  ye  me  teche,  and  I  woll  holde, 
The  reule  to  whiche  I  am  holde, 

1  Fele,  many.        2  Namely,  especially. 


HOOK  III.  —  H'RATH. 


To  lie  the  Ciic^ic,  aa  ye  me  bicicic  : 
For  well  is  him,  that  never  chidde. 
Now  telle  me  forth  if  there  be  more, 
As  touchinge  unto  wrathes  lore." — 

"  $f  limit  I)C  yet  there  is  another, 
\Vhiche  is  toCheste  his  ownebrother, 
And  is  by  name  cleped  Hate, 
That  suffreth  nought  within  his  gate, 
That  there  come  other  love  or  pees, 
For  he  woll  make  no  relese 
Of  no  debate  whiche  is  befalle. 
Now  speke,  if  thou  arte  one  of  alle, 
That  with  this  Vice  hath  be  wit- 
holde."  !— 

"As  yet  for  ought  that  ye  me  tolde, 
My  fader,  I  not  what  it  is." — 

"  In  good  feith,   sone,    I  trowe 
yis."— 

"  My    fader,   nay,   but    ye    me 
lere."— 

"  Now  list,  my  sone,  and  thou 

shalt  here. 

Hate  is  a  Wrathe'  nought  shewend, 
But  of  long  time  gaderend, 
And  dwelleth  in  the  hertd  loken 
Till  he  se  time  to  be  wroken. 
And  than  he  showeth  his  tempest 
More  sodein  than  the  \vilde  beste, 
Which  wot  nothing,  what  mercy  is. 
My    sone,    art    thou    knowen    of 
this  ?  "— 

"  My  gode  fader,  as  I  wene, 
Now wote  I  somedele  what  ye  mene, 
But  I  dare  saufly  make  an  othe, 
My  lady  was  me  never  lothe. 
I  woll  nought  swere  netheles, 
That  I  of  Hate  am  gilteles. 
For  whan  I  to  my  lady  ply 
Fro  day  to  day  and  mercy  cry, 
And  she  no  mercy  on  me  laith, 
But  shorte  wordds  to  me  saith, 
Though  I  my  lady  love  algate, 
Tho  wordes  mote  I  nedes  hate, 
And  wolde  they  were  all  dispent 

i  Witlwld«t  held  with. 


Or  so  fer  out  of  londe  went 
That  I  never  after  shuld  hem  here : 
And  yet  love  I  my  lady  dere. 
Thus  is  there  Hate,  as  ye  may  sc, 
Betwene  my  ladies  word  and  me. 
The  worde  I  hate  and  her  I  love, 
What  so  me  shall  betide  of  love. 
But  furthermore  I  woll  me  shrive, 
That  I  have  hated  all  my  live 
These  janglers,  whiche  of  her  envie 
Ben  ever  redy  for  to  lie. 
For  with  her  fals  compasse'ment 
Full  often  they  have  made  me  shent 
And  hindred  me  full  ofte  time, 
Whan  they  no  cause  wisten  by  me, 
But  onlich  of  her  owne  thought. 
And  thus  have  I  full  ofte  bought 
The  lye  and  drank  nought  of  the 

wine. 

I  wolde  her  hap  were  such  as  mine. 
For  how  so  that  I  be  now  shrive, 
To  hem  ne  may  I  nought  foryive, 
Untill  I  se  hem  at  debate 
With  Love,  and  thanne  min  estate 
They  mighten  by  her  owne  deme 
And  loke   how  wel  it  shuld  hem 

queme l 

To  hinder  a  man,  that  loveth  sore. 
And  thus  I  hate  hem  evermore, 
Til  Love  oil   hem  wold  done  his 

wreche  ; 

For  that  I  shall  alway  beseche 
Unto  the  mighty  Cupido, 
That  he  so  mochel  wolde  do, 
So  as  he  is  of  Love  a  god, 
To  smite  hem  with  the  same  rod, 
With  whiche  I  am  of  Love  smiten, 
So  that   they  mighten   know  and 

witen, 

How  hindring  is  a  wofull  pcine 
To  him  that  love  wold  atteigne. 
Thus  ever  on  hem  I  wait  and  hope, 
Till  I  may  se  hem  lepe  a  lope  - 

1  Qitctne,  be  pleasing. 
-  Lcpe  a  Ifje,  tuke  a  leap. 


'52 


CONFESSIO  AMAXTIS. 


And  halten  on  the  same  sore, 
Whiche  I  do  now  for  evermore. 
I  wolde  thanne  do  my  might 
So  for  to  stonden  in  her  light, 
That  they  ne  shulden  have  a  vvey 
To  that  they  wolden  put  awey. 
I  wolde  hem  put  out  of  the  stede 
Fro  Love,  right  as  they  me  dede 
With  that  they  speke  of  me  by 

mouthe, 

So  wolde  I  do,  if  that  I  couthe 
Of  hem,  and  thus  so  God  me  save 
Is  all  the  Hate  that  I  have 
Toward  these  janglers  every  dele, 
I  wolde  all  other  ferde  wele. 
Thus  have  I,  fader,  said  my  wille. 
Say  ye  now  forth,  for  I  am  stille." — 
"  My  sone,  of  that  thou  hast  me 

said 

I  holde  me  nought  fully  paid,1 
That  thou  wold  haten  any  man 
To  that  accorden  I  ne  can, 
Though  he  have  hindred  thee  to- 
fore. 

But  this  I  telle  thee  therfore, 
Thou  might  upon  my  benison 
Well  haten  the  condicion 
Of  tho  jangleVs,  as  thou  me  toldest, 
But    furthermore,     of    that     thou 

woldest 

Hem  hinder  in  any  other  wise, 
Suche  Hate  is  ever  to  despise. 
Forthy  my  sone,  I  wold  thee  rede, 
That  thou  drawe  in  by  frendly  hede 
That  thou  ne  might  nought  do  by 

Hate, 

So  might  thou  gete  love  algate 
And  sette  thee,  my  sone,  in  rest. 
For  thou  shalt  finde  it  for  the  best, 
And  over  this  so  as  I  dare 
I  rede',  that  thou  be  right  ware 
Of  other  menne's  Hate  about, 
Whiche  every  wise  man  shuldedout, 
For  Hate  is  ever  upon  await. 

l  Paid,  satisfied. 


\  And  as  the  fissher  on  his  bait 

j   Sleeth,  whan  he  seeth  the  fisshes 

faste, 

So  whan  he  seeth  time  atte  last 
That  he  may  worche  an  other  wo, 
Shall  no  man  tornen  him  ther  fro, 
That  Hate  nill  his  felonie 
Fulfill  and  feigne  compaignie. 
Yet  nethe'les  for  fals  semblaunt 
Is  toward  him  of  covenaunt 
Witholde,  so  that  under  bothe 
The  prive  wrath e  can  him  clothe, 

I   That  he  shall  seme  a  great  beleve. 

j   But  ware  thee  well,  that  thou  ne 
leve 

|  All  that  thou  seest  to-fore  thin  eye, 
So  as  the  Gregois  whilom  sigh  ; 
The  boke  of  Troie  who  so  rede. 
There  may  he  finde  ensample  in 

dede. 

"  gone,  after  the  destruction, 
Whan  Troy  was  alle  bete"  down 
And  slain  was  Priamus  the  king, 
The  Gregois,  which  of  all  this  thing 
Ben  cause,  tornen  home  ayein. 
There  may  no  man  his  hap  withsain, 
It  hath  ben  sene  and  felt  full  ofte, 
The  harde  time  after  the  softe. 
By  see  as  they  forth  homeward  went, 
A  rage  of  great  tempest  hem  hent.1 
Juno  let  bende  her  partie  bow, 
The  sky  wax  derke,  the  wind  gan 

blow, 

The  firy  welken  gan  to  thonder, 
As    though    the    world    shuld    al 

asonder. 

From  heven  out  of  the  water  gates 
The  reiny  storm  fell  down  algates, 
And  all  her  tacle  made  unwelde, 
That  no  man  might  him  self  be- 

welde. 

There  may  men  here  shipmen  crie 
That  stood  in  aunter  for  to  die. 
He  that  behinde  sat  to  stere 

1  Hent,  seized. 


HOOK  III.— WRATH. 


May  nought  the  fore  stempne1  here; 
The  ship  arose  ayein  the  wawes, 
The  lodesman  hath  lost  his  lawes, 
The  see  bet  in  on  every  side. 
They  nisten  what  fortune  abide, 
But  setten  hem  all  in  goddes  will, 
Where  -  he  wolde  hem  save  or  spill. 
And  it  fell  thilke  time  thus, 
There  was  a  kinge,  which  Nauplus 
Was  hote,  and  he  a  sone  hadde 
At  Troie',  which  the  Gregois  ladde 
As  he  that  was  made  prince  of  alle, 
Till  that  Fortune  let  him  falle. 
His  name  was  Palamide's, 
But  through  an  Hate  netheles 
Of  som  of  hem  his  deth  was  caste 
And  he  by  treson  overcaste. 
His  fader,  whan  he  herde  it  telle, 
He  swore,  if  ever  his  time  felle, 
He  wolde  him  venge  if  that  hemight, 
And  therto  his  avow  he  hight 
And  thus  this  king  through  privd 

Hate 

Abode  upon  a  waite  algate, 
For  he  was  nought  of  suche  emprise, 
To  vengen  him  in  open  wise. 
"  The  fame,  which  goth   wide 

where, 
Maketh  knowe,  how  that  the  Gre- 

gois  were 

Homwdrd  with  al  the  felaship 
Fro  Troy  upon  the  see  by  ship. 
Nauplus,  whan  he  this  understood 
And  knew  the  tide's  of  the  flood 
And  sigh  the  wind  blow  to  the  londe, 
A  great  deceipt  anone  he  fonde 
Of  prive*  Hate,  as  thou  shalte  here, 
Wherof  I  telle  all  this  mate're. 

"This  kingthe  wedergan  beholde 
And  wiste  well,  they  moten  holde 
Her  coursendlonge  his  marche  right, 
And  made  upon  the  derke*  night 
Of  grete  shides  3  and  of  blockes 

1  Fort  s temf>iit,  voice  in  the  bows. 

a  Where,  whether.  »  Shides,  logs. 


Great  fire  ayeine  the  greate  rockes, 
To  shew  upon  the  hilles  high, 
So  that  the  flete  of  Grece  it  sigh. 
And  so  it  fell  right  as  he  thought, 
This  flete,  which  an  haven  sought, 
The  bright^  fires  sighe  a  fer, 
And  they  ben  drawen  ner  and  ner 
And  wende  well  and  understood 
How  all  that  fire  was  made  for  good 
To  shewe  where  men  shulde  arrive.1 
And  thiderward  they  hasten  blive.- 
In  semblaunt  as  men  sain  is  guile, 
And  that  was  proved  thilke  while. 
The  ship,  which  wend  his   helpe 

accroche,-" 

Drof  all  to  pieces  on  the  roche. 
And  so  there  deden  ten  or  twelve 
There  no  man  mighte  helpe  him 

selve, 

For  there  they  wenden4  deth  escape 
Withouten  helpe  her  deth  was  shape. 
Thus  they  that  comen  first  to-fore 
Upon  the  rocke's  ben  forlore. 
But  through  the  noise  and  through 

the  cry 

The  other  weren  ware  therby, 
And  whan  the  day  began  to  rowe,:> 
Tho  mighten  they  the  sothe'  knowe, 
That  where  they  wenden  frendes 

finde, 

They  fonde*  frendship  all  behinde. 
The  londe'  than  was  sone*  weived, 
Where  that  they  hadden  be  deceived, 
And  toke  hem  to  the  highd  see, 
Therto  they  saiden  alle  ye, 
Fro  that  day  forthe  and  ware  they 

were 
Of  that  they  had  assaidd  there. 

"  My  sone,  herof  thou  might  avise, 
How  fraude  slant  in  many  wise 
Amongds  hem  that  guile  thinke. 
There  is  no  scrivener  with  his  inke, 

1  Arrive,  come  to  the  shore. 

-  Blive,  quickly.  3  Accroche.,  increase. 

*  //  ',-tnien,  hoped.          °  Ronv,  dawn. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Whiche  half  the  fraude  write  can, 
That  stant  in  suche  a  maner  man. 
Forthy  the  wise  men  ne  demen 
The  thinges  after  that  they  semen, 
But  after  that  they  knowe  and  finde. 
The  mirrour  sheweth  in  his  kinde 
As  he  had  all  the  world  withinne, 
And  is  in  soth  nothing  therinne. 
And  so  fareth  Hatd  for  a  throwe,1 
Till  he  a  man  hath  overthrowe; 
Shall  no  man  knowd  by  his  chere, 
Whiche  is  avaunt  ne  whiche  arere. 
Forthy  my  sone,  thenke  on  this." — 

"  My  fader,  so  I  woll  iwis,2 
And  if  there  more  of  Wrathe"  be, 
Nowe  axeth  forth  pour  charite', 
As  ye  by  your  boke*s  knowe, 
And  I  the  soth^  shall  beknowe." — 

"  ^Tg  sone,   thou  shalt  under- 

stonde, 

That  yet  towarde  Wrathe  stonde 
Of  dedly  Vices  other  two. 
And  for  to  telle  her  names  so 
It  is  Contek  and  Homicide, 
That  ben  to  drede  on  every  side. 
Contek  so  as  the  boke"s  sain 
Foolhast  hath  to  his  chamberlain, 
By  whose  counseil  all  unavised 
Is  pacience  most  despised, 
Till  Homicide  with  him  mete. 
Fro  mercy  they  ben  all  unmete 
And  thus  ben  they  the  worst  of  alle 
Of  hem  whiche  unto  Wrath  d  falle 
In  dedd  both  and  eke  in  thought. 
For  they  accompte  her  Wrath  at 

nought 

But  if  there  be  shedmg  of  blood. 
And  thus  liche  to  a  beste  wode 
They  knowen  nought  the  god  of  life, 
Be  so  they  have  swerde  or  knife 
Her  dedly  wrathd  for  to  wreke, 
Of  pite  list  hem  nought  to  speke. 
None  other  reson  they  ne  fonge, 
But  that  they  ben  of  mightes  stronge. 

1  Throwe,  space  of  time.        -  Iwis,  certainly. 


But  ware  hem  well  in  other  place, 
Where  every  man  behoveth  grace  ; 
For  there  I  trowe  it  shall  him  faile, 
To  whom  no  mercy  might  availe, 
But  wroughten  upon  tirannie, 
That  no  pite.ne  might  hem  plie. 
Now  tell,  my  sone." — "  My  fader, 

what  ?  "— 

"If  thou  hastbecoupableofthat?" 
"  My  fader,  nay,  Crist  me  forbede ; 
I  onliche  speke  of  the  dede 
Of  which  I  never  was  coupable 
Withouten  cause  resonable. 
But  this  is  nought  to  my  matere 
Of  shrifte,  why  we  sitten  here. 
For  we  ben  set  to  shrive  of  Love, 
As  we  beganne  first  above. 
And  netheles  I  am  beknowe, 
That  as  touchend  of  loves  throwe, 
Whan  I  my  wittes  overwende, 
Min  hertes  Contek  hath  none  ende, 
But  ever  stant  upon  debate 
To  great  disese  of  min  estate, 
As  for  the  time  that  it  lasteth. 
For  whan  my  fortune  overcasteth 
Her  whele  and  is  to  me  so  straunge, 
And  that    I    se    she   woll    nought 

chaunge, 

Than  cast  I  all  the  worlde  about 
And  thenk  howe  I  at  home  in  dout 
Have  all  my  time  in  vein  despended 
And  se  nought  how  to  be  amended, 
But  rather  for  to  be  empeired, 
As  he  that  is  well  nigh  despeirecl. 
For  I  ne  may  no  thank  deserve, 
And  ever  I  love  and  ever  I  serve 
And  ever  I  am  a  liche  nere, 
Thus,  for  I  stonde  in  suche  a  were, 
I  am  as  who  saith  out  of  herre.1 
And  thus  upon  my  self  I  werre, 
I  bringe  and  put  out  alle  pees. 
That  I  full  ofte  in  such  a  rees  2 
Am  wery  of  min  owne  life, 

1  Out  of  herre,  unhinged. 
-  Rees,  stir  of  battle. 


BOOK  III.— }\' RATH. 


'55 


So  that  of  Contek  and  of  Strife 
I  am  beknovve  and  have  answerde, 
As  ye,  my  fader,  now  have  herde. 
Min  herte  is  vvonderly  begone 
With  counseil,  wherof  wit  is  one, 
Whiche  hath  res6n  in  compaignie 
Ayein  the  which£  stant  partie 
Will,  which  hath  Hope  of  his  ac- 

corde. 

And  thus  they  bringen  up  discorde, 
Witte  and  Reson  counseilen  ofte, 
That  I  min  herte  shulde  softe 
And  that  I  shulde  Will  remue l 
And  put  him  out  of  retenue 
Or  elles  holde  him  under  fote. 
For  as  they  sain,  if  that  he  mote 
His  owne  reule  have  upon  honde, 
There  shall  no  Witbenunderstonde 
Of  Hope  ;  also  they  tellen  this, 
That  over  all  where  that  he  is 
He  set  the  herte  in  jeopartie 
With  wishing  and  with  fantasie, 
And  is  nought  trewe  of  that  he  saith, 
So  that  there  is  on  him  no  feith. 
Thus  with  Reson  and  Witte  avised 
Is  Will  and  Hope  all  day  despised. 
Reson  saith,  that  I  shuldd  leve 
To  love*,  where  there  is  no  leve 
To  spede,  and  Will  saith  there  ayein 
That  such  an  herte  is  to  vilain 
Which  dare  nought  love  till  that  he 

spede  ; 

Let  Hope  serve  at  suche  nede. 
He  saith  eke,  where  an  herte  sit 
All  hole  governed  upon  Wit, 
He  hath  this  Jive's  lust  forlore. 
And  thus  min  herte  is  all  to-tore 
Of  suche  a  Contek,  as  they  make. 
But  yet  I  may  nought  Will  forsake 
That  he  nis  maister  of  my  thought, 
Or  that  I  spede,  or  spede  nought." — 
"Thou  dost,  my  sone,  ayeinst 

the  right, 
But  Love  is  of  so  great  a  might, 

1  Remue,  remove. 


His  lauc  may  no  man  refuse, 

So   might  thou    there    the    better 

excuse. 

And  nethe'les  thou  shalt  be  lerned, 
That  thy  Will  shulde*  be  governed 
Of  Reson  mord  than  of  Kinde  ; 
Wherof  a  tald  write  I  finde. 

Jl  pI)Uo0opf)rc  of  which  men 

tolde 

There  was  whilom  by  daies  olde, 
And  Diogdnes  than  he  hight, 
So  olde  he  was  that  he  ne  might 
The  world  travaile,  and  for  the  best 
He  shope  him  for  to  take  his  rest 
And  dwelle  at  home  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  nigh  his  house  he  let  devise 
Endlonge  upon  an  axel  tree 
To  set  a  tonne  in  suche  degree 
That  he  it  mighte  torne  aboute  ; 
Wherof  one  heed  was  taken  oute 
For  he  therinne  sitte  shulde 
And  torne  him  selve  as  he  wolde 
And  take  the  eire  and  se  the  hevcn 
And  deme  of  the  planetes  seven 
As  he  which  couthd  mochel  what.1 
And  thus  full  ofte  there  he  sat 
To  muse  in  his  philosophic 
Sole  withouten  compaignie ; 
So  that  upon  a  morwe  tide 
A  thing  which  shulde'  tho  betide. 
Whan  he  was  sette  here  as  him  list 
To  loke  upon  the  sonne  arist, 
Wherof  the  propertie  he  sigh, 
It  felle,  there  cam  ridend  nigh 
King  Alisaundre  with  a  rouie. 
And  as  he  cast  his  eye  aboute 
He  sigh  this  tonne,  and  what  it  ment 
He  wolde  wite,  and  thider  sent 
A  knight,  by  whom  he  might   it 

knowe. 

And  he  him  self  that  ilke  throwe 
Abode  and  hoveth  there  stille. 
This  knight  after  the  kinges  wiile 

1  Con  the  inocliel  tvltat,  knew  a  good  deal, 
much  what,  a  formation  similar  to  somewhat. 


156 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


With  spore  made  his  horse  to  gone 
And  to  the  tonne  he  came  anone, 
Where  that  he  fonde  a  man  of  age, 
And  he  him  tolde  the  message, 
Suche  as  the  kinge  him  hadd£  bede, 
And  axeth  why  in  thilke  stede  l 
The  tonne  stood  and  what  it  was. 
And  he,  which  understood  the  cas, 
Sat  still  and  spake  no  worde  ayein. 
The  knight  bad  speke  and  saith  : 

« Vilain, 

Thou  shalt  me  telle,  er  that  I  go, 
It  is  thy  king,  whiche  axeth  so.' 

*  My  king,'  quod  he,   '  that  were 

imright.' 

'What  is  he  thanne'  ? '  saith  the 
knight, 

*  Is  he  thy  man  ? '     <  That  say   I 

nought,' 

Quod  he,  *  but  this  I  am  bethought, 
My  mannes  man  how  that  he  is.' 
'  Thou  liest,  false  cherle,  iwis,'  2 
The  knight  him  said  and  was  right 

wroth, 

And  to  the  kinge  ayein  he  goth 
And    told    him,    how    this    man 

answerde. 

The  king  whan  he  this  tale  herde 
Bad  that  they  shulden  all  abide, 
For  he  him  self  wold  thider  ride. 
And  whan  hecame  to-fore  thetonne, 
He  hath  his  tale  thus  begonne  : 
'  Al  heil,'  he  saith,  '  what  man  art 

thou  ? ' 
Quod  he  :  '  Such  one  as  thou  seest 

now.' 

The  king,  which  hadde  wordes  wise, 
His  age  wolde  nought  despise 
But  saith  :   *  My  fader,  I  thee  pray, 
That  thou  me  wolt  the  cause  say, 
How  that  I  am  thy  mannes  man  ?  ' 
'Sire  king,'quod  he, 'and' that  I  can, 
If  thou    wilt.' — <  Yea,'   saith    the 

king.— 

1  Stede,  place.  -  Iwis,  certainly. 


Quod  he:  'This  is  the  sothe  thing: 
Sith  I  first  reson  understood 
And  knew  what  thing  was  evil  and 

good, 
The    Will,    whiche    of    my    body 

moveth, 
Whos    werkes    that    the    god    re- 

proveth, 

I  have  restreigne'd  evermore 
Of  him  which  stant  under  the  lore 
Of  Reson,  whos  subject  he  is, 
So  that  he  may  nought  done  amis. 
And  thus  by  wey  of  covenaunt 
Will  is  my  Man  and  my  Servaunt 
And  ever  hath  be  and  ever  shall. 
And  thy  Will  is  thy  Principal 
And  hath  the  lordship  of  thy  wit, 
So  that  thou  couthest  never  yit 
Take  a  day  rest  of  thy  labour. 
But  for  to  be  a  conquerour 
Of  worldes  good,  which  may  nought 

laste, 

Thou  hiest  ever  a  liche  faste, 
Where  thou  no  Reson  hast  towinne. 
And  thus  thy  Will  is  cause  of  sinne 
And   is   thy  Lord  to  whom   thou 

servest, 

Wherof  thou  litel  thank  deservest.' 
The  king,  of  that  he  thus  answerd, 
Was  nothing  wroth,  but  when  lie 

herd 

Thehighd  wisedom,  whiche  hesaide, 
With  goodly  wordes  this  he  praide, 
That  he  him  wold£  tell  his  name. 
'  I  am,'  quod  he,  '  that  ilkd  same, 
Which  that  men  Dioge"nes  calle.' 
Tho  was  the  king  right  glad  with 

alle, 

For  he  had  herd  ofte  to-fore 
What  man  he  was,  so  that  therfore 
He  saide :  '  O  wise  Diogdne, 
Now  shall  thy  grete  wit  be  sene, 
For  thou  shalt  of  my  yifte  have, 
What    worldds    thinge    thou    wolt 

crave.' 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


157 


Quod  he :  '  Than  hove  out  of  my 

sonne 

And  lete  it  shine  into  my  tonne. 
For  thou  benimst  me1  thilkd  yifte, 
Which  lith  nought  in  thy  might  to 

shifte : 

None  other  good  of  thee  menedeth.' 
"The  king,  whom  every  contrd 

dredeth, 

Lo,  thus  he  was  enforme'd  there; 
Wherof,  my  sone',  thou  might  lere, 
How  that  thy  Wil  shal  nought  be 

leved, 

Where  it  is  nought  of  Wit  releved. 
And  thou  hast  said  thy  self  er  this, 
How  that  thy  Wil  thy  maister  is, 
Through  which  thin  herte's  thought 

withinne 

Is  ever  of  contek  to  beginne, 
So  that  it  greatly  is  to  drede, 
That  it  no  homicide  brede. 
For  Love  is  of  a  wonder  kinde 
And  hath  his  wine's  oft£  blinde, 
That  they  fro  mannas  Reson  falle. 
But  whan  that  it  is  so  befalle, 
That  Will  shall  his  corage  lede 
In  Love's  cause,  it  is  to  drede  ; 
Wherof  I  finde  ensample  write, 
Whiche  is  behovely  for  to  wite. 

"  gf  *c&e  a  talc,  and  telleth  this, 
The  citee  which  Semiramis 
Enclosed  hath  with  walle  about 
Of  worthy  folk  with  many  a  rout 
Was  inhabited  here  and  there. 
Amonge*  the  which  two  there  were 
Above  all  other  noble  and  great, 
Dwellend  tho  within  a  strete 
So  nigh  to-gider,  as  it  was  sene, 
That  there  was  nothing  hem  be- 

twene 
But  wowe2  to  wowe  and  walle  to 

walle. 

1  Benimst  inf,  takest  away  from  me. 

2  IVowt,  wall.     "  Wowe  "  and  "  wall  "  are 
equivalent,  like  "follow  "  and  "  sue  "  fourteen 
lines  later. 


This  o  lord  hath  in  specialle 
A  sone,  a  lusty  bacheler, 
In  all  the  towne  was  none  his  pere. 
That  other  had  a  doughter  eke 
In  all  the  lond  that  for  to  seke 
Men  wisten  none  so  faire  as  she. 
And  fell  so,  as  it  shuldd  be, 
This  faire'  doughter  nigh  this  sone, 
As  they  to-gider  thannd  wone,1 
Cupid  hath  so  the  thingds  shape. 
That  theyne  might  his  honds  escape 
That  he  his  fire  on  hem  ne  caste, 
Wherof  her  herts  he  overcaste 
To  folwe'  thilke  lore  and  sue, 
Whichnevermanyetmightescheue. 
And  that  was  Love,  as  it  is  happed, 
Whiche    hath    her   herte's    so  be- 

trapped, 

That  they  by  alle  waids  seche. 
How  that  they  mighten  winne  a 

speche 

Her  wofull  peine  for  to  lesse. 
Who  loveth   wel,   it   may  nought 

misse, 

And  namely  -  whan  there  ben  two 
Of  one  accord,  how  so  it  go, 
But  if  that  they  some  waie  finde, 
For  Love  is  ever  of  suche  a  kinde 
And  hath  his  folk  so  wel  affaited, 
That  how  so  that  it  be  awaited, 
There  may  no  man  the  purpos  let.3 
And  thus  betwene  hem  two  they  set 
An  hole  upon  a  wal  to  make 
Through  which  they  have  her  coun- 

seil  take 

At  alld  times,  whan  they  might. 
This  fain*  maiden  Tisbd  hight 
And  he,  whom  that  she  loved  hote, 
Was  Piramus  by  name  hote. 
So  longe  her  lesson  they  recorden, 
Til  att£  lasts'  they  accorden 
By  nighte's  timd  for  to  wende 
Alone  out  fro  the  towne's  ende, 

1  ll'ottt,  dwell.  2  Nanifly.  especially. 

3  Ltt,  hinder. 


158 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Where  was  a  welle  under  a  tree, 

And  who  cam  first,  or  she  or  he, 

He  shulde  stilte  there  abide. 

So  it  befell  the  nightes  tide 

This  maiden  which  desguise'd  was, 

All  p  lively  the  softe'  pas 

Goth  through  the  large  town  un- 

knowe, 

Till  that  she  cam  within  a  throwe 
Where  that  she  liked  for  to  dwelle 
At  thilke  unhappy  freshd  welle, 
Which  was  also  the  forest  nigh  ; 
Where  she  come'nd  a  leon  sigh 
Into  the  feld  to  take  his  pray 
I  n  haste.    And  she  tho  fledde  away, 
So  as  Fortiind  shulde  falle, 
For  fere,  and  let  her  wimpel1  falle 
Nigh  to  the  wel  upon  therbage. 
This  wildd  leon  in  his  rage 
A  beste  whiche  he  found  there  out 
Hath  slain,  and  with  his  bloody  snout 
Whan  he  hath  eten  what  he  wolde, 
To  drinke  of  thilke'  stremes  colde 
Come  to  the  welle',  where  he  fonde 
The  wimpel,  whiche  out  of  her  honde 
Was  falle,  and  he  it  hath  to-drawe, 
Bebledde  aboute  and  all  forgnawe. 
And  than  he  straught2  him  for  to 

drinke 

Upon  the  fresshe  welles  brinke, 
And  after  that  out  of  the  plein 
He  torneth  to  the  wode  ayein. 
And  Tisbe  durste  nought  remewe, 
But  as  a  brid  which  were  in  me  we,3 
Within  a  bussh  she  kept  her  close 
So  stille  that  she  nought  arose 
Unto  her  self  and  pleigneth  ay. 
And  fell,  while  that  she  there'  lay, 
This  Piramus  cam  after  sone 
Unto  the  welle  and  by  the  mone 
He  found  her  wimpel  bloody  there. 
Cam  never  vet  to  mannes  ere 


1  Whnpel,  neck-covering. 
-  Straiight,  stretched. 

•;  Men'e.  cage  for  moulting  birds. 


Tidinge  ne  to  mannes  sight 
Merveille  which  so  sore  aflight 1 
A  mannes  herte,  as  it  tho  dede 
To  him,  whiche  in  the  same  stede 
With  many  a  woful  compleigninge 
Began  his  hondes  for  to  wringe 
As  he  which  deemeth  sikerly 
That  she  be  dede.     And  sodeinly 
His  swerd  all  naked  out  he  braide 
In  his  Foolhaste  and  thus  he  saide  : 
'  I  am  cause  of  this  felonie, 
So  it  is  reson  that  I  deie, 
And  she  is  dede  by  cause  of  me.' 
And  with  that  worde  upon  his  kne 
He  fell,  and  to  the  goddes  alle 
Up  to  the  heven  he  gan  to  calle 
And  praie,  sithen  2  it  was  so 
That  he  may  nought  his  love  as  tho" 
Have  in  this  world,  that  of  her  grace 
He  might  her  have  in  other  place, 
For  here  wolde  he  nought  abide, 
He  saith.      But  as  it  shall  betide, 
The  pomel  of  his  swerd  to  ground 
Hesetand  through  his  hert  a  wound 
He  made  up  to  the  bare  hilte, 
And  in  this  wise  him  self  spilte 
With  his  Foolhaste,  and  deth  he 

narn.* 

For  she  within  a  while  cam, 
Where  he  lay  dede  upon  his  knife, 
So  woful  yet  was  never  life 
As  Tisbe  was.    Whan  she  him  sigh, 
She  mighte  nought  one  worde  on 

high 

Out  spekd,  for  her  herte  shette, 
That  of  her  life  no  pris  she  sette 
But  dede  swounend  down  she  felle  ; 
Till  after  whan  it  so  befelle, 
That  she  out  of  her  traunce  awoke, 
With  many  a  wofull  pitous  loke 
Her  ej^e  alwey  among  she  caste 
Upon  her  love  and  atte  laste 
She  caught  herbrethand  saide  thus : 


l  Aflight,  afflicted. 
3  Tho.  then. 


-  Sitken,  since. 
4  Nam,  took. 


BOOK  1 II. —WRATH. 


159 


'  O  thou,  which  clepe'd  art  Vends, 
Goddesse  of  Love,  and  thou  Cupide, 
Which  Loves  cause  hast  for  to  guide, 
I  wot  now  wel  that  ye  be  blinde, 
Of  thilke  unhapwhichel  nowe  finde 
Only  betwene  my  love  and  me. 
This  Piramus,  whichc  here  I  se 
Bledend,  O,  what  hath  he  deserved? 
For  he  your  hest  hath  kept  and 

served^ 

And  was  yonge  and  I  both  also, 
Alas,  why  do  ye  with  us  so  ? 
Ye  set  our  hertes  both  on  fire 
And  made  us  suche  thing  desire 
Wherof  that  we  no  skills'  couthe. 
But  thus  our  freshe  lusty  youthe 
Withouten  joy  is  all  despended, 
Which     thing     may     never     ben 

amended. 

For  as  for  me  this  woll  I  say, 
That  me  is  lever  for  to  deie 
Than  live  after  this  sorwefull  day.' 
And  with  this  word  where  as  he  lay 
Her  love  in  arme's  she  embraseth 
Her  owne*  deth  and  so  purchaseth, 
That  now  she  wepte  and  now  she 

kiste, 

Till  atte'  laste,  ere  she  it  wiste, 
So  great  a  sorwe  is  to  her  falle 
Whiche  overgoth  her  wine's  alle, 
And    she,    which    mightd    nought 

asterte, 

The  swerdds  pointe  ayein  her  herte 
She  set  and  fell  down  therupon, 
Wherof  that  she  was  dede  anone. 
And  thus  both  on  a1  swerd  bledend 
They  were'  founden  dede  liggend. 
<:  Now  thou,  my  sone,  hast  herd 

this  tale 

Beware  that  of  thin  owne*  bale 
Thou  be  nought  cause  in  thy  Fool- 
haste, 

Andkepe  that  thou  thy  Wit  newastc 
Upon  thy  thought  in  aventure, 


Wherof  thy  lives  forfetiire 

May  falle.     And  if  thou  have  ro 

thought 
Er  this,  tell  onandhide  it  nought."- 

"  My  fader,  upon  Love's  side 
My  conscience  I  wol  nought  hide, 
How  that  for  love  of  pur£  wo 
I  have  ben  oftd  moved  so 
That  with  my  wishes  if  I  might 
A  thousand  time's,  I  you  plight, 
I  hadde'  storven  l  in  a  day. 
And  therof  I  me  shrive  may, 
Though  Love  fully  me  ne  slough, 
My  will  to  dei'J  was  inough. 
So  am  I  of  my  Will  coupdble, 
And  yet  is  she  nought  mercidble 
Which  may  me  yive'  life  and  hele, 
But  that  herlist  nought  with  me  dele 
I  wot  by  whos  conseMl  it  is 
And  him  wolde  I  long  time  er  this, 
And  yet  I  wolde  and  ever  shall, 
Sleen  and  destruie  in  specidll. 
The  golde  of  nine*  kinge's  londes 
Ne  shulde  him  save*  fro  min  hondes, 
In  my  powe'r  if  that  he  were. 
But  yet  him  stant  of  me  no  fere, 
For  nought  that  ever  I  can  mandce 
He  is  the  hinderer  of  my  grace, 
Til  he  be  dede  I  may  nought  spede. 
So  mote  I  nede's  taken  hede 
And  shape  how  that  he  were  awey, 
If  I  therto  may  finde  a  wey." — 

"  My  sone*,  tell  me  now  forth< 
Whiche  is  that  mortal  enemy, 
That  thou  mandcest  to  be  dede.'- — 

"  My  fader,  it  is  suche  a  quede  - 
That  where  I  come,  he  is  to-fore 
And  doth  so  that  my  cause  is  lore  " 

"What  is  his  name?"     "It  is 

Daunger, 

Whiche  is  my  ladies  counseiler, 
For  I  was  never  yet  so  sligh 
To  come  in  any  place*  nigh 

1  Ston>tn,  died. 
*  Qttfife,  foul  one. 


i6o 


COXFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


Where  as  she  was,  by  night  or  day, 
That  Daunger  ne  was  redy  ay, 
With  whom  for  speche  ne  for  mede 
Yet  might  I  never  of  Love  spede. 
For  ever  I  this  findd  soth, 
All  that  my  lady  saith  or  doth 
To  me  Daunger  shall  make  an  ende. 
And  that  maketh  al  my  world  mis- 

wende, 

And  ever  I  axe  his  helpe,  but  he 
May  be  wel  cleped  sauns  pitd. 
For  ay  the  more  I  to  him  bo  we, 
The  lasse  he  woll  my  tale  allowe. 
He  hath  my  lady  so  engleued * 
She  woll  nought,  that  he  be  re- 

meued. 

For  ever  he  hongeth  on  her  saile 
And  is  so  prive  of  counseile, 
That  ever  whan  I  have  ought  bede, 
I  finde  Daunger  in  her  stede 
And  min  answere  of  him  I  have. 
But  for  no  mercy  that  I  crave, 
Of  mercy  never  a  point  I  hadde. 
I  find  his  answer  ay  so  badde, 
That  worse*  might  it  never  be. 
And  thus  betwen  Daunger  and  me 
Is  ever  werre  til  he  deie. 
But  might  I  ben  of  such  maistrie, 
That  I  Daunger  had  overcome, 
With  that  were  all  my  joie  come. 
Thus  wolde  I  wonde  for  no  sinne 
Ne  yet  for  all  this  world  to  winne, 
If  that  I  mighte*  finde  a  sleight 
To  lay  all  min  estate  in  weight 
I  wolde  him  fro  the  Court  desever 
So  that  he  come  ayeinward  never, 
Therfore  I  wisshe  and  wolde  fain 
That  he  were  in  some  wise*  slain, 
For  while  he  stant  in  thilke  place 
Ne  gete  I  nought  my  ladies  grace. 
Thus  hate  I  dedely  thilke  Vice 
And  wolde  he  stood  in  none  office 
In  place"  where  my  lady  is. 
For  if  he  do,  I  wot  wel  this, 

1  Engleued,  fastened  to  him. 


That  outher  he  shall  deie  or  I 
Within  a  while,  and  nought  forthy 
On  my  lady  full  ofte  I  muse, 
Xow  that  she  may  her  self  excuse. 
For  if  I  deie  in  suche  a  plite 
Me  thenketh  she  might  nought  IDC 

quite,1 

That  she  ne  were  an  homicide. 
And  if  it  shulde  so  betide, 
As  god  forbede  it  shulde  be, 
By  double  way  it  is  pite. 
For  I,  which  all  my  Will  and  Wit 
Have  yove  and  served  ever  yit, 
And  than  I  shuld  in  suche  a  wise, 
In  rewarding  of  my  service 
Be  dede,  me  thenketh  it  were  routh. 
And  furthermore  I  telle  trouth, 
She  that  hath  ever  be  wel  named, 
She  were  worthy  than  to  be  blamed 
And  of  reson  to  ben  appeled, 
Whan  with  o  word  she  might  have 

heled 

A  man,  and  suffreth  him  to  deie. 
Ha,  who  sigh  ever  such  a  way  ? 
Ha,  who  sigh  ever  such  destresse  ? 
Withoute  pite  gentilesse, 
Withoute  mercy  womanhede, 
That  woll  so  quite  2  a  man  his  mede 
Whiche  ever  hath  be  to  Love*  trewe. 

"  My  gode  fader,  if  ye  rewe 
Upon  my  tale,  tell  me  now, 
And     I    wol    stinte    and    herken 

you." — 

"  My  sone,  attempre  thy  corage 
Fro  Wrath  and  let  thin  hert  assuage, 
For  who  so  wol  him  underfonge, 
He  may  his  grace  abide  longe 
Or  he  of  Love  be  received 
And  eke  also,  but  it  be  weived,3 
There  mighte  mochel  thing  befalle 
That  shulde  make  a  man  to  falle 
Fro  Love,  that  never  afterwarde 
Ne  durst  he  loke  thiderwarde. 

1  Quite,  acquitted.  ~  So  requite. 

3  Unless  it  (Wrath)  be  put  aside. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


161 


In  harde  waies  men  gon  softc, 
And  er  they  climbe  avise  hem  ofte, 
And  men  seen  all  day,  that  rape  x 

reweth. 

And  who  so  wicked  aid  breweth 
Full  ofte  he  mot  the  worse  drinke  ; 
Better  it  is  to  flete  than  sinke  ; 
Better  is  upon  the  briclel  chewe 
Than  if  he  fel  and  overthrewe 
The  hors  and  sticked  in  the  mire  ; 
To  casten  water  in  the  fire 
Better  is  than  brenne  upal  the  hous. 
The  man  whiche  is  malicious 
And  foolhastif,  full  ofte  he  falleth. 
And  selden  is  whan  Love  him  calleth. 
Forthy  better  is  to  suffre  a  throwe  2 
Than  to  be  wilde  and  overthrowe. 
Suffraunce  hath  ever  be  the  best 
To  wishen  him  that  secheth  rest. 
And  thus  if  thou  wolt  Love*  spede, 
My  sone,  suffre,  as  I  the  rede. 
What  may  the  mous  ayein  the  cat  ? 
And  for  this  cause  I  axe  that, 
Who  may  to  Love  make  a  werre, 
That  he  ne  hath  him  self  the  werre  ? 
Love  axeth  pees  and  ever  shall, 
And  who  that  fighteth  most  withall, 
Shall  lest  conquere  of  his  emprise. 
For  this  they  tellen  that  ben  wise, 
Whiche  is  to  strive  and  have  the 

werse 

To  hasten,  is  nought  worth  a  kerse.:! 
Thing   that   a   man   may  nought 

achieve, 

That  may  nought  wel  be  done  at  eve, 
It  mot  abide  till  the  morwe. 
Ne  haste'  nought  thine  owne  sorwe, 
My  sone,  and  take  this  in  thy  witte, 
He  hath  nought  lost  that  wel  abitte.4 
Ensample,  that  it  falleth  thus, 

1  Rape,  haste.  Icelandic  "  hrapa,"  headlong 
hurry.  It  is  the  word  used  in  the  phrase  "rap 
out  an  oath." 

5  A  throwe,  for  a  time. 

:t  Kerse,  cress. 

4  Abitte,  abides,  waits  (like  our  "  everything 
comes  to  him  who  waits  "). 


Thou  might  well  take  of  Piramus, 
Whan  he  in  haste  his  swerd  out 

drough 

And  on  the  point  him  selven  slough 
For  love  of  Tisbe  pitously 
For  *  he  her  wimpel  fond  bloody 
And  wende  a  beste  her  hadde  slain, 
Where  as  him  ought  have  be  right 

fain, 

For  she  was  there  al  sauf  beside. 
But  for  he  wolde  nought  abide, 
This  mischef  fell.     Forthy  beware, 
My  sone,  as  I  thee  warne  dare, 
Do  thou  no  thinge  in  suche  a  rees,- 
For  suffraunce  is  the  well  of  pees, 
Though  thou  to  Loves  Court  pursue, 
Yet  sit  it  wel  that  thou  escheue 
That  thou  the  Court  nought  over- 
haste, 

For  so  thou  might  thy  timd  waste. 
But  if3  thin  hap  therto  be  shape, 
It  may  nought  helpd  for  to  rape, 
Therfore  attempre  thy  cordge, 
Foolhaste'  doth  none  avauntage, 
But  cfte  it  set  a  man  behinde 
In  cause  of  love,  and  thus  I  finde 
By  olde  ensample  as  thou  shalt  here 
Touchend  of  love  in  this  matere. 

(Jlinai&eu  whilom  there  was  one, 
Which  Daphne"  hight,  and  such  was 

none 

Of  beaute  tMn,  as  it  was  saide. 
Phebus  his  love  hath  on  her  laide, 
And  therupon  to  her  he  sought 
In  his  Foolhaste  and  so  besought 
That  she  with  him  no  restd  hadde, 
For  ever  upon  her  love  he  gradde,4 
And  she  said  ever  unto  him  nay. 
So  it  befelle  upon  a  day 
Cupidd,  whiche  hath  every  chaunce 
Of  love  under  his  governaunce, 
Sigh  Phebus  hasten  him  so  sore, 
And  for  he  shulde  him  haste  more 


For,  because. 
But  if,  unless. 


2»  Rees,  rush. 

4  Gradde,  cried  out. 


162 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  yet  nought  speden  attd  laste 
A  dart  throughout  his  hert  he  caste, 
Which  was  of  golde  and  all  a  fire, 
That  made  him  many  fold  desire 
Of  lovd  mord  than  he  dede. 
To  Daphne  eke  in  the  same*  stede 
A  dart  of  led  he  caste  and  smote, 
Which  was  all  colde  and  no  thing 

hote. 

And  thus  Phebus  in  love  brenneth 
And  in  his  haste  aboutd  renneth 
To  loken  if  that  he  might  winne. 
But  he  was  ever  to  beginne, 
For  ever  away  fro  him  she  fled, 
So  that  he  never  his  love"  sped. 
And  for  to  make  him  full  beleve, 
That  no  Foolhaste  might  acheve 
To  gete  love  in  such  degre, 
This  Daphne  into  a  lorer  tre 
Was  torned,  whiche  is  ever  grene 
In  token,  as  yet  it  may  be  sene, 
That  she  shall  dwelle  a  maiden  stille 
And  Phebus  failen  of  his  wille. 
By  suche  ensamples  as  they  stonde, 
My  sone,  thou  might  understonde 
To  hasten  love  is  thing  in  vein 
Whan  that  Fortune  is  there  ayein, 
To  take  where  a  man  hath  leve 
Good  is,  and  die's  he  mot  leve. 
For  whan  a  mannes  happes  failen, 
There  is  nonehastemayavailen." — 

"  My  fader,  graunt  mercy  of  this. 
But  while  I  se  my  lady  is 
No  tree,  but  holde  her  owne  forme, 
There  may  me  no  man  so  enforme, 
To  whether  part  Fortune'  wende, 
That  I  unto  my  livens  ende 
Ne  wol  her  serven  evermo." — 

"  My  sond,  sithen  it  is  so, 
I  say  no  more,  but  in  this  cas 
Beware,  howe  it  with  Phebus  was. 
Nought  only  upon  Loves  chaunce, 
But  upon  every  governaunce, 
Which  falleth  unto  manne's  dede, 
Foolhaste  is  ever  for  to  drecle, 


And  that  a  man  good  counseil  take 
Er  he  his  purpose  undertake, 
For  counseil  put  Foolhaste  awey." — 

"  Now  gode  fader,  I  you  prey, 
That  for  to  wisse  me  the  more, 
Some  good  ensample  upon  this  lore 
Ye  wold  me  telle,  of  that  is  writ, 
That  I  the  better  mighte"  wit, 
Howe  I  Foolhaste'  shulde  escheue 
And  the  wisddme  of  counseil  sue." — 
"^l£  sonc,  that    thou    might 

enforme 

Thy  pacience  upon  the  forme 
Of  olde  ensamples  as  they  felle, 
Nowe  understond,  what  I  shall  telle. 
"  When  noble  Troie'  was  belein 
And  overcome,  and  home  ayein 
The  Gregois  torned  fro  the  siege, 
The  kinges  found  her  owne  liege 
In  many  places,  as  men  saide, 
That  hem  forsoke  and  disobeide. 
Among  the  whiche  fell  this  case 
To  Demephon  and  Athemas, 
That  weren  kinges  bothe  two 
And  bothe'  weren  served  so, 
Her  leges  wolde  hem  nought  re 
ceive, 

So  that  they  mote  algates  weive l 
To  seche  londe  in  other  place 
For  there  founde  they  no  grace. 
Wherof  they  token  hem  to  rede 
And  soughten  frendes  atte  nede, 
And  eche  of  hem  assureth  other 
To  helpe  as  to  his  owne"  brother 
To  vengen  hem  of  thilke  oultrage 
And  winne  ayein  her  heritage. 
And  thus  they  ride  aboute  faste 
To  geten  hem  helpe,  and  atte  laste 
They  hadden  power  suffisaunt 
And  maden  than  a  covenaunt, 
That  they  ne  shulde*  no  life  save, 
Ne    prest,  ne  clerk,    ne    lord,    ne 

knave, 
Ne  wife,  ne  childe  of  that  they  finde 

1  1Veh>e,  turn  aside. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


'63 


Which  bereth  visdge  of  mannds 

kinde, 

So  that  no  life  shall  be  socoured, 
But  with  the  dedelyswerd  devoured. 
In  such  Foolhaste  her  ordinaunce 
They  shapen  for  to  do  vengeaunce. 
Whan  this  purpose  was  wist  and 

knowe 
Among  here  host,  tho  was  there 

blowe 

Of  wordds  many  a  speche  aboute. 
Of  yongd  men  the  lusty  route 
Were  of  this  tald  glad  inough, 
There  was  no  care  for  the  plough ; 
As  they  that  weren  foolhastif 
They  ben  accorded  to  the  strife 
And  sain,  it  may  nought  ben  to  great 
To  vengen  hem  of  such  forfet. 
Thus  saith  the  wilde  unwisd  tonge 
Of  hem  that  there*  weren  yonge. 
"  But   Nestor,  which  was  olde 

hore, 

The  salve  sigh  to-fore  the  sore 
As  he  that  was  of  counseil  wise. 
So  that  anone  by  his  advise 
There  was  a  prive*  counseil  nome, 
The  lordes  ben  to-gider  come. 

"  This  Demephon  and  Athemas 
Her  purpos  tolden  as  it  was. 
They  setten  alld  still  and  herde, 
Was  non  but  Nestor  hem  answerde. 
Hebaddehem,  if  they  wolden  winne, 
They  shulden  se,  er  they  beginne, 
Her  ende  and  set  her  first  entent 
That  they  hem  after  ne  repent. 
And  axeth  hem  this  question, 
To  what  findll  conclusion 
They  wolde  regne*  kinge*s  there, 
If  that  no  people  in  londd  were  ? 
And  saith,  it  were  a  wonder  wierd1 
To  seen  a  king  become  an  hierd, 
Where  no  life  is  but  only  beste 
Under  the  legeaunce  of  his  heste.2 

1  Wierd,  destiny. 

2  Only  beasts  under  allegiance  to  his  com 
mand. 


For  who  that  is  of  man  no  kinge 
The  remenaunt  is  as  no  thinge. 
He  saith  eke,  if  they  pourpose  holde 
To  slee  the  people,  as  they  two  wolde, 
Whan  they  it  mightd  nought  restore, 
All  Grece  it  shulde  abeggd  sore  l 
To  se  the  wildd  beste"  wone  2 
Where  whilom  dweltamanne*5sone. 
And  for  that  cause  he  bad  hem  trete 
And  stint  of  tho  mandces  grete. 
1  Bet  is  to  winne  by  faire"  speche,' 
He  saith,  'than  such  vengeaunce 

seche. 

For  whan  a  man  is  most  above, 
Him  nedeth  most  to  gete  him  love.' 
"Whan  Nestor  hath  this   tale 

saide, 

Ayein  him  was  no  word  withsaide  ; 
It  thought  hem  all  he  saide  wele  ; 
And  thus  Fortune  her  dedly  whele 
Fro  werre  torneth  into  pees. 
But  forth  they  wenten  netheles, 
And  whan  the  contrees  herde  sain, 
How  that  her  kinges  be  besein 
Of  suche  a  power  as  they  ladde, 
Was  none  so  bold  that  hem  ne  dradde 
And  for  to  seche  pees  and  grith  3 
They  sende  and  praide  anon  forth 
with, 

So  that  the  kinge*s  ben  appesed 
And  every  manne's  hert  is  esed. 
All  was  foryete  and  nought  recorded, 
And  thus  they  ben  to-gideraccorded. 
The  kinge"s  were  ayein  received, 
And    pees   was   take    and  wrathe 

weived 
And  all  through  counseil  which  was 

good 

Of  him  that  reson  understood. 
"By    this    ensample,    sone,   at- 

tempre 
Thin  hert  and  let  no  Will  distempre 

1  -Abegge  sore,  abye,— pay  for— it  sorely. 
3  IVone,  dwell. 

3  Grith  was  a  secured  interval  of  peace  ; 
"  frith  "  was  peace  generally. 


164 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Thy  Wit,  and  do  no  thing  by  might, 
Which  may  be   do  by  love    and 

right. 

Foolhaste  is  cause  of  mochel  wo, 
Forthy  my  sone,  do  nought  so. 
And  as  touchend  of  homicide. 
Which  toucheth  unto  Loves  side, 
Ful  ofte  it  falleth  unavised 
Through  Will  which  is  nought  wel 

assised, 

Whan  Wit  and  Reson  ben  awey 
And  that  Foolhaste  is  in  the  wey, 
Wherof  hath    falle    great    venge- 

aunce. 

Forthf  take  into  remembraunce 
To  love  in  suche  a  maner  wise, 
That  thou  deserve  no  juise. 
For  well  I  wot,  thou  might  nought 

lette, 

That  thou  ne  shalt  thin  herte  sette 
To  love*,  where  1  thou  wolt  or  none. 
But  if  thy  wit  be  overgone, 
So  that  it  torne  unto  malice, 
There  wot  no  man  of  thilkd  Vice, 
What  perill  that  there  may  befalle. 
Wherof  a  tale  amonges  alle 
Whiche  is  great  pite  for  to  here 
I  thenke  for  to  tellen  here, 
That  thou  such  mordre  might  with- 

stonde, 
Whan  thou  the  tale  hast    under- 

stonde. 

($>f  ^roic  at  thilkd  noble  towne, 
Whose  fame  stant  yet  of  renowne 
And  ever  shall  to  mannes  ere, 
The  siege  laste  longe  there 
Er  that  the  Grekes  it  mighte  winne, 
While  Priamus  was  king  therinne. 
But  of  the  Grekes  that  lien  aboute, 
Agdmenon  lad  all  the  route. 
This  thinge  is  knowen  overall, 
But  yet  I  thenke  in  speciall 
To  my  matere  therupon 
Telle  in  what  wise  Agdmenon 

1  Where,  whether. 


Through  chaunce  which  may  nought 

be  weived 

Of  love  untrewe'  was  deceived. 
An  olde  sawe  is  :  who  that  is  sligh 
In  place  where  he  may  be  nigh 
He  maketh  the  ferre  leve  loth l 
Of  love,  and  thus  ful  ofte  it  goth. 
There  while  Aga"menon  bdtdilleth 
To  winne  Troie  and  it  assaileth 
From  home  and  was  long  time  fer, 
Egistus  drough  his  quene  ner 
And  with  the  leiserwhiche  hehadde 
This  lady  at  his  will  he  ladde. 
Climestre  was  her  righte  name, 
She  was  therof  greatly  to  blame 
To  love  there  it  may  nought  laste, 
But  fell  to  mischefe  atte  laste. 
For  whan  this  noble  worthy  knight 
Fro  Troie  came,  the  firste  night 
That  he  at  home  a  bedde  lay 
Egistus  longe  er  it  was  day, 
As  this  Climestre  him  had  assent 
And  weren  bothe  of  one  assent, 
By  treson  slough  him  in  his  bed. 
But  morder,  which  may  nought  ben 

hed, 

Sprong  out  to  every  mannes  ere, 
Wherof  the  lond  \vas  full  of  fere. 
AgcLmenon  hath  by  this  quene 
A  sone,  and  that  was  after  sene. 
But  yet  as  than  he  was  of  youth 
A  babe  which  no  reson  couth. 
And  as  God  wolde,  it  felle  him  thus, 
A  worthy  knight  Taltibius 
This  yonge  childe  hath  in  keeping. 
And  whan  he  herde  of  this  tiding, 
Of  this  treson,  of  this  misdede, 
He  gan  within  him  self  to  drede 
In  aunter  if  this  false  Egiste 
Upon  him  come  er  he  it  wiste 
To  take  and  morther  of  his  malice 
This  child  whiche  he  hath  to  norice; 
And  for  that  cause  in  alle  haste 


1  The  cunning  man  who  can  come  near  makes 
loathed  the  loved  one  who  is  farther  off. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


'65 


Out  of  the  londe  he  gan  him  haste 
And  to  thekinge  of  Crete  he  straught 
And  him  this  yonge  lorde  betaught1 
And  praid  him  for  his  faders  sake, 
That  he  this  child  wolde  undertake 
And  kepe  him  till  he  be  of  age, 
So  as  he  was  of  his  lignage, 
And  told  him  over  all  the  cas, 
How  that  his  fader  morthred  was, 
And  how  Egistus,  as  men  saide, 
Was  king,  to  whom  the  londe  obeide. 
"  And  whan  Ydomeneus  thekinge 
Hath  understonding  of  this  thinge, 
Which  that  this  knight  him  hadde 

told, 

He  made  sorwe  manyfold 
And  toke  the  childe  unto  his  warde 
And  saide  he  wolde  him  kepe  and 

warde, 

Till  that  he  were  of  such  a  might 
To  handle  a  swerde  and  ben  a  knight 
To  venge  him  at  his  owne  will. 
And  thus  Horestes  dwelleth  still, 
Such  was  the  childe's  righte  name, 
Whiche    after    wrought^    mochel 

shame 
In  vengeaunce  of  his  faders  deth. 

"  The  time  of  yeres  overgeth 
That  he  was  man   of  brede  and 

lengthe, 

Of  wit,  of  manhode,  and  of  strengthe, 
A  fair  persone  amonges  alle. 
And  he  began  to  clepe  and  calle 
As  he  which  come  was  to  man, 
Unto  the  kinge  of  Crete  than 
Praie'nde  that  he  wold  him  make 
A  knight  and  power,  with  him  take, 
For  lenger  wolde  he  nought  beleve,2 
He  saith,  but  praith  the  kinge  of 

leve 

To  gone  and  claim  his  heritage 
And  vengen  him  of  thilke  oultrdge 
Which  was  unto  his  fader  do. 
The  kinge  assenteth  well  therto 

1  Betaught,  entrusted.  2  Beleve,  remain. 


With  great  honour  and  knight  him 

maketh 

And  great  powe'r  to  him  betaketh.1 
And  gan  his  journe'  for  to  caste 
So  that  Horestes  atte  laste 
His  levd  toke  and  forth  he  goth 
As  he  that  was  in  herte'  wroth. 
His  firste  pleinte*  to  bemene2 
Unto  the  citee  of  Athene 
He  goth   him  forth  and  was  re 
ceived, 

So  there  was  he  nought  deceived. 
The  duke  and  tho  that  weren  wise 
They  profren  hem  to  his  service, 
And  he  hem  thonketh  of  her  proffer 
And  saith  him  self  he  wol  gone  offer 
Unto  the  goddes  for  his  spede, 
And  alle  men  him  yive  rede. 
So  goth  he  to  the  temple  forth, 
Of  yiftes  that  be  mochel  worth 
His  sacrifice  and  his  offringe 
He  made.     And  after  his  axinge 
He  was  answerde,  if  that  he  wolde 
His  state  recover,  than  he  sholde 
Upon  his  moder  do  vengeaunce 
So  cruel,  that  the  rdmembraunce 
Therof  might  evermore  abide, 
As  she  that  was  an  homicide 
And  of  her  owne  lord  mordrice. 
Horestes,  whiche  of  thilke  office 
WTas    nothing    glad,    as    than    he 

praide 

Unto  the  goddes  there  and  saide, 
That  they  the  jugement  devise, 
How  she  shall  take*  the  juise.3 
And  therupon  he  had  answdre, 
That  he  her  pappes  shulde  of-tere 
Out  of  her  breast  his  owne*  hondes, 
And  for  ensample  of  alld  londes 
With  hors  she  shulde  be  to-drawe, 
Till  hounde's  had  her  bone's  gnawe 
Withouten  any  sepulture. 
This  was  a  wofull  aventure. 

1  Betaketh,  cntrnstcth.        2  Bemene,  bemoan. 
3  Jufse,  judgment  (judicium). 


i66 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


"And  whan  Horestes  hath  all 

herde, 
How   that    the   goddes  have   an- 

swerde, 
Forth  with  the  strengthe  whiche  he 

lad, 

The  duke  and  his  power  he  had 
And  to  a  citee  forth  they  gone, 
The  which  was  cleped  Cropheone, 
Where  as  Phorcuswas  lord  and  sire, 
Which  profreth  him  withouten  hire 
His  helpe  and  all  that  he  may  do, 
As  he  that  was  right  glad  therto 
To  greve  his  mortal  enemy, 
And  tolde  him  certain  cause  why, 
How  that  Egiste  in  manage 
His  doughter  whilom  of  full  age 
Forlay  and  afterward  forsoke, 
Whan  he  Horestes  moder  toke. 
Men  sain  :  old  sinne  newe  shame. 
Thus  more  and  more  arose  the  blame 
Ayein  Egiste  on  every  side.  ' 

"  Horestes  with  his  host  to  ride 
Began,  and  Phorcus  with  him  wente, 
I  trovve  Egist  him  shall  repente. 
They  riden  forth  unto  Micene, 
There  lay  Climestre  thilke  quene, 
The  whiche  Horestes  moder  is. 
And  whan  she  herde  telle  of  this, 
The  gates  were  faste  shette, 
And  they  were  of  her  entre  lette.1 
Anone  this  citee  was  withoute 
Belain  and  sieged  all  aboute, 
And  ever  among  they  it  assaile 
Fro  day  to  night,  and  so  travaile 
Till  atte'  laste  they  it  wonne ; 
Tho  was  there  sorwe  inough  be- 

gonne. 

"  Horestes  did  his  moder  calle 
Anone  to-fore  the  lordes  alle 
And  eke  to-fore  the  people  also, 
To  her  and  tolde  his  tale  tho 
And  saide:  <O  cruel  beste  unkinde, 
How  mightest  thou  thin  herte  finde, 

1  Hindered  from  entering. 


For  any  luste  of  loves  draught 
That  thou  accordest  to  the  slaught 
Of  him  which  was  thin  owne  lorde  ? 
Thy  treson  stant  of  such  recorde, 
Thou   might    thy   werkes   nought 

forsake, 

So  mote  I  for  my  faders  sake 
Vengeaunce  upon  thy  body  do, 
As  I  commaunded  am  therto. 
Unkindely  for  thou  hast  wrought, 
Unkindelich  it  shall  be  bought : 
The  sone  shall  the  moder  slee, 
For  that  whilom  thou  saidest  ye 
To  that  thou  shuldest  nay  have  said.' 
Andhe  with  that  his  honds  hath  laid 
Upon  his  moder  breast  anone 
And  rent  out  from  the  bare  bone 
Her  pappes  both  and  caste  away 
Amiddes  in  the  carte  way, 
And  after  toke  the  dede  cors 
And  lete  it  be  drawe  awey  with  hors 
Unto  the  hounde,  unto  the  raven, 
She  was  none  other  wise  graven.1 
"  Egistus,  which  was  elles  where, 
Tidinges  comen  to  his  ere, 
How  that  Micene  was  belain, 
But  what  was  more  herd  he  nought 

sain. 

With  great  mana" ce  and  mochel boste 
He  drough  power  and  made  an  hoste 
And  came  in  the  rescousse  2  of  the 

town. 

But  all  the  sleight  of  his  treson 
Horestes  wist  it  by  a  spie 
And  of  his  men  a  great  partie 
He  made  in  busshement  abide 
To  waite  3  on  him  in  suche  a  tide, 
That  he  ne  might  her  hond  escape. 
And  in  this  wise  as  he  hath  shape 
The  thing  befell,  so  that  Egist 
Was  take  er  he  him  selfe  it  wist, 
And  was  forth  brought  his  hondes 

bonde, 

1  Graven,  buried.        2  fiescousse,  rescue. 
3  Waite t  watch. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


167 


As  whan  men  have  a  traitor  fonde. 
And  tho  that  weren  with  him  take, 
Whiche  of  treson  were  overtake, 
To-gider  in  one  sentence  falle. 
But  false  Egiste  above  hem  alle 
Was  deme'd  to  diverse  peinc, 
The  worst^  that  men  couthe  or- 

deigne, 

And  so  forth  after  by  the  lawe 
He  was  unto  the  gibet  drawe, 
Where  he  above  all  other  hongeth, 
As  to  a  traitor  it  belongeth. 
The  Fame  with  her  swifte  winges 
Aboute  nigh  and  bare  tidinges 
And  made  it  couth  in  alle  londes, 
How  that  Horestes  with  his  hondes 
Climestre  his  owne  moder  slough. 
Some  sain,  he  did  well  inough, 
And  some  sain,  he  did  amis, 
Divers  opinion  there  is ; 
That  she  is  dede  they  speken  alle, 
But  pleinly  howe  it  is  befalle 
The  matere  in  so  litel  throwe l 
In  sothe  there  might  no  man  knowe 
But  they  that  weren  at  the  dede. 
And  comunlich  in  every  nede 
The  worste  speche  is  rathest  herde 
And  leve'd,2  till  it  be  answerde. 
The  kinge's  and  the  lordes  great 
Begonne  Horestes  for  to  threat 
To  putten  him  out  of  his  regne, — 
He  is  nought  worthy  for  to  regne, 
The  child  which  slough  his  moder  so, 
They  said  ;  and  therupon  also 
The  lordes  of  comun  assent 
The  time  sette  of  parlement, 
And  to  Athene's  king  and  lorde 
To-gider  come  of  one  accorde, 
To  knowe  how  that  the  sothe  was, 
So  that  Horestes  in  this  cas 
They  senden  after,  and  he  come. 

"  King  Menelay  the  wordes  nome 
And  axeth  him  of  this  matere. 
And  he,  that  all  it  mighten  here, 

1  In  so  short  a  time.      2  Levfd,  believed. 


Answdrde  andtolde  his  tale  at  large, 
And  how  the  goddes  in  his  charge 
Commaunded  him  in  suche  a  wise 
His  owne  hond  to  do  juise.1 
And  with  this  tale  a  duke  arose, 
Which  was  a  worthy  knight  of  lose,  - 
His  name*  was  Menesteus, 
And  saide  unto  the  lordes  thus : 
'The   wreche'3    whiche    Horestes 

dede, 

It  was  thinge  of  the  goddes  bede 
And  nothinge  of  his  cruelte' : 
And  if  there  were  of  my  degre 
In  all  this  placd  suche  a  knight 
That  wolde  sain  it  was  no  right, 
I  woll  it  with  my  body  prove.' 
And  therupon  he  cast  his  glove 
And  eke  this  noble  duke  alieide 
Full  many  an  other  skill4  and  saide, 
She  hadde  well  deserved  wreche, 
First  for  the  causeof  spouse  breche,5 
And  after  wrought  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  all  the  woilde  it  ought  agrise,0 
Whan  that  she  for  so  foul  a  vice 
Was  of  her  ownd  lord  mordrice. 
They  sitten  alld  still  and  herde. 
But  therto  was  no  man  answerde, 
It  thought  hem  all  he  saide  skille, 
There  is  no  man  withsay  it  wille. 
Whan  they  upon  the  reson  musen 
Horestes  alle  they  excusen, 
So  that  with  great  solempnite 
He  was  unto  his  dignitd 
Received  and  corouned  kinge. 
And  tho  befell  a  wonder  thinge. 
Egiona  whan  she  it  wiste, 
Which  was  the  doughter  of  Egiste 
And  suster  on  the  moder  side 
To  this  Horest,  at  thilke  tide, 
Whan  she  herde  how  her  brother 

sped, 
For  pure  sorwd  whiche  her  led, 

1  Juise,  judgment.  2  Lose,  praise,  fame. 

3  Wrcche,  vengeance.       *  Alleged  .  .  .  reason. 

5  Spoust  brechc,  adultery. 

8  Agrise,  to  terrify. 


i68 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  he  ne  hadde  ben  exiled, 
She  hath  her  ovvne  life  beguiled 
Anone  and  henge  her  selfe  tho. 
It  hath  and  shall  ben  evermo 
To  mordre  who  that  woll  assente 
He  may  nought  faile  to  repente. 
This  false  Egiona  was  one 
Whiche  to  mordre  Agamenon 
Yaf  her  accorde  and  her  assent, 
So  that  by  goddes  jugement, 
Though  other  none  man  it  wolde, 
She  toke  her  juise  as  she  sholde, 
And  as  she  to  an  other  wrought 
Vengeaiince  upon  her  self  she  sought 
And  hath  of  her  unhappy  wit 
A  modre  with  a  modre  quit. 
Suche  is  of  modre  the  vengeaunce. 
"  Forthy  my  sone,    in   remem- 

braunce 

Of  this  ensample  take  good  hede. 
For  who  that  thenketh  his  love  spede 
With  mordre,  he  shall  with  worldes 

shame 
Him  self  and  eke  his  love  shame." — 

"  My  fader,  of  this  aventure, 
Whiche  ye  have  tolde,  I  you  assure 
My  herte  is  sory  for  to  here ; 
But  onely  for  I  wolde  lere 
What  is  to  done  and  what  to  leve, 
And  over  this  now  by  your  leve. 
That  ye  me  wolde  telle  I  pray, 
If  there  be  leful  any  way 
Withoute  sinne  a  man  may  slee." — 
"  My  sone,  in  sondry  wise  ye.1 
What  man  that  is  of  traiterie 
Of  mordre  or  elles  robberie 
Atteint,  the  juge  shal  not  let 
But  he  shal  seen  of  pure  det 2 
And  doth   great   sinne  if  that  he 

wonde.3 

For  who,  thatlawehathuponhonde, 
And  spareth  for  to  do  justice 
For  mercy,  doth  nought  his  office, 

1  Ye,  yea.  2  Det,  debt,  obligation. 

3  Wonde,  turn  aside. 


That  he  his  mercy  so  bewareth,1 
Whan   for    o    shrewe,    whiche   he 

spareth, 

A  thousand  gode  men  he  greveth ; 
With  such  mercy  who  that  beleveth 
To  plese  God,  he  is  deceived 
Or  elles  reson  mot  be  weived. 
The  lawe  stoode  or  2  we  were  bore, 
How  that  a  kinges  swerde  is  bore 
In  signe  that  he  shall  defende 
His  true  people  and  make  an  ende 
Of  suche,  as  wolden  hem  devoure. 

"  Lo,  thus  my  sone,  to  succour 
The  lawe,  andcomun  right  to  winne, 
A  man  may  slee  withoute  sinne 
And  do  therof  a  great  almesse 
So  for  to  kepe  rightwisnesse. 
And  over  this  3  for  his  contree 
In  time  of  werre  a  man  is  free 
Him  self,  his  house,  and  eke  his 

londe 

Defende  with  his  owne  honde 
And  sleen,  if  that  he  may  no  bet, 
After  the  lawe  whiche  is  set."- 

"  Now  fader,  than  I  you  beseche 
Of  hem  that  dedly  werres  seche 
In  worldes  cause  and  sheden  blood, 
If  suche  an  homicide  is  good  ?  " — 

"  My  sone,  upon  thy  question 
The  trouth  of  min  opinion, 
Als  ferforth  as  my  wit  arecheth 
And  as  the  pleine  lawe  techeth, 
I  wol  thee  telle  in  evidence 
To  reule  with  thy  conscience. 

l^C (fjig$£  906  of  his  justice 
That  ilke  foul  horrible  Vice 
Of  Homicide  he  hath  forbede 
By  Moi'ses,  as  it  was  bede. 
Whan  Goddes  sone  also  was  bore 
He  sent  his  aungel  down  therfore, 
Whom  the  shephe'rde's  herden  singe : 
'  Pees  to  the  men  of  welwillinge 
In  erthe  be  amonge  us  here.' 

1  Bewareth,  expends.  2  Or,  ere. 

3  Over  this,  beyond  this. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


169 


So  for  to  speke  in  this  matdre 
After  the  lawe  of  charite, 
There  shall  no  dedly  werrd  be. 
And  eke  Nature  it  hath  defended 
And  in  her  lawd  Pees  commended, 
Whiche  is  the  chefe  of  mannes  welth, 
Of  mannds  life,  of  mannes  helth. 
But  dedly  Werre  hath  his  covfne 
Of  Pestilence  and  of  Famine, 
Of  Pouerte  and  of  alld  wo, 
Wherof  this  world  we  blamen  so 
Which  now  the  werre  hath  under 

fote, 

Till  God  him  self  therof  do  bote.1 
For  alld   thing,  which   God  hath 

wrought, 

In  erthd,  Werre  itbringethtonought. 
The  chirche  is  brent,  the  prest  is 

slain, 

The  wife,  the  maide  is  eke  forlain, 
The  lawe  is  lore  and  God  unserved : 
I  not2  what  mede  he  hath  deserved, 
That  suche  werres  ledeth  inne. 
If  that  he  do  it  for  to  winne, 
First  to  accompte  his  gretd  coste, 
Forth  with  the  folke  that  he  hath 

loste 

As  to  the  worldes  reckemnge, 
There  shall  he  findd  no  winninge. 
And  if  he  do  it  to  purchase 
The  heven,  mede  of  suche  a  grace 
I  can  nought  spekd,  nethdles 
Crist  hath  commaunded  Love  and 

Pees. 

And  who  that  worcheth  the  revers, 
I  trowe  his  mede  is  full  divers. 
And  sithen  thanne  that  we  finde, 
That  werrds  in  her  ownd  kinde 
Ben  toward  God  of  no  deserte 
And  eke  they  bringen  in  pouerte 
Of  worldds  good,  it  is  merveile 
Among  the  men  what  it  may  eile 
That  they  a  pees  ne  connen  sette. 
I  trowe  Sinnd  be  the  lette, 

1  Do  bote,  cause  remedy.       -  Not,  know  not. 


And  every  mede  of  Sinne  is  dcth. 
So  wote  I  never  howe  it  geth. 
But  we,  that  ben  of  o 1  beleve 
Among  us  self,  this  wolde  I  leve,2 
That  better  it  were  Pees  to  chese 
Than  so  by  double  weid  lese. 

I  not  if  that  it  now  so  stonde, 
But  this  a  man  may  undeistonde, 
Who  that  these  old<5  bokds  redeth, 
That  covetise  is  one  which  ledeth 
And  broughtd  first  the  werrds  inne. 
At  Grece  if  that  I  shall  beginne, 
There  was  it  provdd  howe  it  stood 
To  Persd,  whiche  \vas  full  of  good. 
They  maden  werre  in  speciall 
And  so  they  didden  over  all 
Where  great  richessd  was  in  londe, 
So  that  they  leften  nothing  stonde 
Unwerred,  but  onliche  Archade. 

For  therd  they  no  werrds  made 
Because  it  was  barein  and  pouer, 
Wherof  they  mightd  nought  recouer 
And  thus  pouertd  was  forbord, 
He  that  nought  had  nought  hath 

lord. 

But  yet  it  is  a  wonder  thinge, 
Whan  that  a  riche  worthy  kinge 
Or  other  lord,  what  so  he  be, 
Woll  axe  and  claime  propertd 
In  thing  to  whiche  he  hath  no  right 
But  only  of  his  grete  might. 
For  this  may  every  man  well  wite, 
That  bothd  Kinde  and  Lawd  write 
Expressely  stonden  there  ayein. 
But  he  mot  nedds  somewhat  sain, 
All  though  there  be  no  reson  inne, 
Which  secheth  causd  for  to  winnc. 
For  Wit  that  is  with  Will  oppressed, 
Whan  covetise  him  hath  adressed 
And  alld  reson  put  away, 
He  can  well  finde  such  a  way 
To  werre  where  as  ever  him  liketh, 
Wherof  that  he  the  worde  entriketh,3 

1  O,  one.  9  Ln>f,  believe. 

3  Entriketh,  deceives  by  intrigue. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  many  a  man  of  him  com- 

pleigneth. 
But   yet    alway    some    cause    he 

feigneth 
And    of    his    wrongfull   herte    he 

demeth 
That  all   is  well  what    ever   him 

semeth 

Be  so  that  he  may  winne  inough. 
For  as  the  true  man  to  the  plough 
Only  to  the  gaigndge  entendeth, 
Right  so  the  werriour  despendeth 
His  time  and  hath  no  conscience. 
And  in  this  point  for  evidence 
Of  hem  that  suche  werres  make, 
Thou  might  a  great  ensample  take 
How  they  her  tirannie  excusen 
Of  that  they  wrongful  werres  usen, 
And  how  they  stonde  of  one  ac- 

corde, 

The  souldeour  forth  with  the  lorde, 
The  pouer  man  forth  with  the  riche, 
As  of  cordge  they  ben  liche 
To  make*  werres  and  to  pille 
For  lucre  and  for  none  other  skille,1 
Wherof  a  propre  tale  I  rede, 
As  it  whilom  befelle  in  dede. 
"  $f  Ijtttt,  whom  all  this  erthc 

dradde 

Whan  he  the  world  so  overladde 
Through  werre,  as  it  fortuned  is, 
King  Alisaundre,  I  rede  this, 
How  in  a  marche  where  he  lay 
It  fell  parchaunce  upon  a  day 
A  rover  of  the  see  was  nome,2 
Which  many  a  man  had  overcome 
And  slain  and  take  her  good  away. 
This  pilour  as  the  bokes  say, 
A  famous  man  in  sondry  stede 
Was  of  the  werkes  whiche  he  dede. 
This  prisoner  to-fore  the  kinge 
Was  brought,  and  therupon  this 

thinge 
In  audience  he  was  accused, 

1  Skille*  reason.  2  Nome,  taken. 


And  hehisdedehathnought  excused 
Andpraid  the  king  to  donehim right 
And  said  :  '  Sire,  if  I  were  of  might, 
I  have  an  herte  liche  to  thine ; 
For  if  thy  power  were  mine, 
My  wille  is  most  in  speciall 
To  rifle  and  geten  over  all 
The  large  worldes  good  about. 
But  for  I  lede  a  pouer  route 
And  am  as  who  saith  at  mischefe, 
The  name  of  pilour  and  of  thefe 
I  bere,  and  thou  which  routes  great 
Might  lede  and  take  thy  beyete 1 
And  dost  right  as  I  woldd  do, 
Thy  name  is  nothing  cleped  so, 
But  thou  art  named  emperour. 
Our  dedes  ben  of  one  colour 
And  in  effecte  of  one  deserte, 
But  thy  richesse  and  my  pouerte 
They  be  nought  taken  evenliche, 
And  netheles  he  that  is  riche 
This  day,  to  morwe  he  may  be  pouer, 
And  in  contrarie  also  recouer 
A  pouer  man  to  grete  richesse. 
Men  sain  forth^  let  rightwisenesse 
Be  peised  even  in  the  balaiince.' 

"The  king  his  hardy  contenaunce 
Behelde,  and  herd  his  wordes  wise, 
And  said  unto  him  in  this  wise  : 
'  Thin  answere  I  have  understonde, 
Wherof  my  will  is,  that  thou  stonde 
In  my  service  and  stille  abide.' 
And  forth  with  al  the  same  tide 
He  hath  him  terme  of  life  witholde 
The  more  andforheshuldbenbolde, 
He  made  him  knight  and  yaf  him 

lond, 

Whiche  afterward  was  of  his  honde 
An  orped  2  knight  in  many  a  stede 
And  great  prowesse  of  armes  dede, 
As  the  croniques  it  recorden. 
And  in  this  wise  they  accorden, 
The  whiche  of  her  condicion 
Be  set  upon  destruction, 

1  Beyete,  gains.        2  Orped,  distinguished. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


171 


Such  capitain  such  retenue.1 
But  for  to  see  to  what  issue 
The  king  befalleth  at  the  laste, 
It  is  great  wonder  that  men  caste 
Her  herte  upon  such  wrong  to  winne 
Where  no  beyetd  may  ben  inne 
And  doth  disese  on  every  side ; 
But  whan  Res6n  is  put  aside 
And  Will  governeth  the  cordge, 
The  faucon  which  fleeth  ramdge  2 
And  suffreth  no  thing  in  the  way 
Wherof  that  he  may  take  his  pray, 
Is  nought  more  set  upon  ravine 
Than  thilke'  man  whiche  his  covine 
Hath  set  in  suche  a  maner  wise. 
For  all  the  world  ne  may  suffise 
To  Wil  whiche    is   nought  reson- 

dble. 

Wherof  ensample  concorddble 
Lich  to  this  point  of  which  I  mene 
Was  upon  Alisaundre  sene, 
Whiche  haddd  set  all  his  entent 
So  as  Fortune'  with  him  went, 
That  Reson  might  him  non  governe, 
But  of  his  Wille  he  was  so  sterne, 
That  all  the  worlde  he  overran 
And  what  him  list  he  toke  and  wan. 
In  Ynde  the  superiour 
Whan  that  he  was  full  conquerour 
And  had  his  wilfull  pourpos  wonne 
Of  all  this  erth  under  the  sonne, 
This  king  homward  to  Macedoine 
Whan  that  he  cam  to  Babiloine 
And  wende'  moste  in  his  empire, 
As  he  which  was  hole  lorde  and 

sire, 

In  honour  for  to  be  received, 
Most  sodenliche  he  was  deceived 
And  with  strong  poison  envenimed. 
And  as  he  hath  the  world  mistimed 
Nought  as  he  shulde  with  his  wit, 
Nought  as  he  wolde  it  was  acquit. 
Thus  was  he   slain   that  whilom 

slough, 

1  Like  master  like  man.        2  Ramdge,  wild. 


And  he  which  riche'  was  inough 
This  day,  to  morwe  he  hadd^  nought. 
And  in  such  wise  as  he  hath  wrought 
In  disturbaunce  of  worlde's  pees, 
His  werre  he  fond  than  ende'les, 
In  which  for  ever  discomffte 
He  was.      Lo,  now  for  what  profile 
Of  werre  it  helpeth  for  to  ride, 
For  covetfse  and  worlde's  pride 
To  slee  the  worldes  men  aboute 
As  beste's,  whiche  gone  there  oute. 
For  every  life  which  reson  can  l 
Oweth  wel  to  knowe  that  a  man 
Ne  shulde'  through  no  tirannie 
Lich  to  these  other  beste's  deie 
Til  Kinde' 2  wolde  for  him  sende. 
I  not  how  he  it  might  amende 
Which  taketh  awey  for  evermore 
The  life  that  he  may  nought  restore. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  in  alle*  wey 
Be  wel  avised  I  thee  prey 
Of  slaughter  that  thou  be  coupdble 
Withoute  cause  resondble." — 

"  My  fader,  understonde  it  is, 
That  ye  have  said,  but  over  this 
I  pray  you  telle  me  nay  or  ye, 
To  passe  over  the  greatd  see 
To  werre  and  sle  the  Sarasin 
Is  that  the  law^  ?  " — "  Son^  min, 
To  preche  and  suffre  for  the  feith 
That  I  have  herd  the  gospel  saith, — 
But  for  to  sle,  that  here  I  nought. 
Cristwith  hisowne'deth  hath  bought 
All  other  men  and  made  hem  fre 
In  token  of  parfit  charite', 
And  after  3  that  he  taught  him  selve 
Whan  he  was  dede  these  other  twelve 
Of  his  apostles  went  aboute 
The  holy  feith  to  prechen  oute, 
Wherof  the  deth  in  sondry  place 
They  suffre,  and  so  God  of  his  grace 
The  feith  of  Crist  hath  made  arise. 
But  if  they  wolde  in  other  wise 

1  Everybody  capable  of  reason. 

a  Kindf,  Nature.       »  After,  according  to. 


172 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


By    werre    have    brought    in    the 

creaunce, 

It  hadde'  yet  stonde  in  balaunce. 
And  that  may  proven  in  the  dede  ; 
For  what  man  the  cronique's  rede, 
Fro  first  that  Holy  Chirche  hath 

weived 1 

To  preche  and  hath  the  svverd  re 
ceived, 

Wherof  the  werre's  ben  begonne, 
A  great  partie  of  that  was  wonne 
To  Cristds  feith  stant  now  miswent. 
God  do  therof  amende*ment 
So  as  he  wot  what  is  the  best. 
But  sone,  if  thou  wilt  live  in  rest 
Of  conscience  well  assised, 
Er  that  thou  slee,  be  wel  avised ; 
For  man,  as  tellen  us  the  clerkes, 
Hath  God  above  all  erthly  werkes 
Ordeigned  to  be  principal!, 
And  eke  of  soule  in  specidll 
He  is  made  lich  to  the  godhede  : 
So  sit  it  wel  to  taken  hede 
And  for  to  loke  on  every  side 
Er  that  thou  falle  on  homicide, 
Which  sinne  is  now  so  generall 
That  it  wel  nigh  stant  overall 
In  Holy  Chirche  and  elles  where. 
But  all  the  while  it  is  so  there, 
The  world  mot  ned£  fare  amis. 
For  whan  the  well  of  pite"  is 
Through  covetise  of  worldds  good 
Defoule"d  with  sheding  of  blood, 
The  remenaunte  of  folke  about 
Unnethd  stonde  in  any  doubt 
To  werre  eche  other  and  to  slee, 
So  it  is  all  nought  worth  a  stre,2 
The  Charite"  wherof  we  prechen, 
For  we  do  no  thing  as  we  techen. 
And  thus  the  blinde  conscience 
Of  Pees  hath  lost  thilke  evidence 
Which  Crist  upon  this  erthd  taught. 
Now  may  men  se  mordre  and  man- 
slaught 

l  Weived)  put  aside.  2  Stre,  straw. 


Liche  as  it  was  by  dale's  olde, 
Whan  men  the  sinnes  bought  and 

solde. 

"  gtt  (Srece  afore"  Criste's  feith, 
I  rede  as  the  cromque*  saith 
Touchend  of  this  matere*  thus, 
In  thilk£  time  how  Peleus 
His  owne"  brother  Phocus  slough. 
But  for  he  hadde  gold  inough 
To  yive,  his  sinnd  was  despensed 
With    golde   wherof  it   was  com- 

pensed. 

Achastus,  which  with  Venus  was 
Her  prest,  assoiled  l  in  that  cas 
Al  were  there  no  repentaunce. 
And  as  the  boke  maketh  remein- 

braunce, 

It  telleth  of  Medee  also, 
Of  that  she  slough  her  sones  two 
Egeus  in  the  same  plite 
Hath  made  her  of  her  sinne  quite.2 
The  sone  eke  of  Amphioras, 
Whose  righte*  name  Almeus  was, 
His  moder  slough  Eriphele, 
But  Achilo  the  prest  and  he, 
So  as  the  bokes  it  fecorden, 
For  certain  some  of  golde  accorden 
That  thilke  horrible  sinful!  dede 
Assoile'd  was;  and  thus  for  mede 
Of  worldes  good  it  falleth  ofte, 
That  homicide  is  set  alofte 
Here  in  this  life  :  but  after  this 
There  shall  be  knowe,  how  that  it  is 
Of  hem  that  suche"  thinge"s  wirche, 
And  how  also  that  Holy  Chirche 
Let  such£  sinne's  pass£  quite, 
And  how  they  wolde  hem  self  acquite 
Of  dedely  werres,  that  they  make. 
For  who  that  wold  ensample  take, 
The  law£  whiche  is  naturel, 
By  wey  of  Kindd  sheweth  wel 
That  homicide  in  no  degre 
Which  werreth  ayein  charite 
Among  the  menne  shulde  dwelle. 

1  Assailed,  absolved.        2  Quite,  acquitted. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


For  after  that  the  bok^s  telle, 
To  seche  in  all  the  worlde'  riche 
Men  shall  nought  finde  upon  his 

lichei 

A  bestd  for  to  take  his  prey, 
And  sithen  Kind  hath  suche  a  wey, 
Than  is  it  wonder  of  a  man, 
Which  kinde  hath  and  reson  can, 
That  he  woll  outher  more  or  lasse 
His  kinde  and  reson  overpasse 
And  slee  that  is  to  him  sembldble. 
So  is  the  man  nought  resondble 
Ne    kinde,    and    that    is    nought 

hone'ste, 
Whan  he  is  worse*  than  a  beste. 

"  Among  the  bokes  which  I  finde 
Solins  speketh  of  a  wonder  kinde 
And  saith  of  foules  there  is  one, 
Which e  hath  a  face  of  blood  and 

bone 

Like  to  a  man  in  resemblaunce. 
And  if  it  falle  so  parchaunce, 
As  he  whiche  is  a  foule  of  pray, 
That  he  a  man  finde  in  his  way, 
He  woll  him  sleen  if  that  he  may. 
But  afterward  the  same  day 
Whan  he  hath  eten  all  his  felle 
And  that  shall  be  beside  a  welle 
In  whichd  he  woll  drinke  take 
Of  his  visdge  and  seeth  the  make 
That    he    hath    slain,    anone    he 

thenketh 

Of  his  misdede,  and  it  forthenketh 
So  greatly  that  for  pure*  sorwe 
He  liveth  nought  till  on  the  morwe. 
By  this  ensample  it  may  well  sue, 
That  man  shall  homicide  escheue, 
For  ever  is  mercy  good  to  take. 
But  if  the  lawe  it  hath  forsake 
And  that  justice  is  there  ayein, 
Ful  oftetime  I  have  herd  sain 
Amonges  hem  that  werre's  hadden, 
That    they    somwhile    her    cause 

ladden 

1  Upon  his  own  kind. 


By  mercy,  whan  they  might  have 

slain, 

Wherof  that  they  were  after  sain. 
And  sone,  if  that  thou  wolt  recorde 
The  vertue  of  misericorde, 
Thou  sighe*  never  thilke  place, 
Where  it  was  usdd  lacke  grace ; 
For  every  lawe  and  every  kinde 
The  manne's  wit  to  mercy  binde, 
And  name'ly  the  worthy  knightes, 
Whan  that  they  stonden  most  up- 

rightes 

And  ben  most  mighty  for  to  greve, 
They  shulden  thanne'  most  releve 
Him    whom   they   mighten    over- 

throwe, 
And    by    ensample    a    man    may 

knowe 

He  may  nought  failen  of  his  mede 
That  hath  mercy.     For  this  I  rede. 
gu  tt  cromquc  I  finde  thus, 
Whan  Achilles  with  Thelaphus 
His  sone'  toward  Troie  were, 
It  fell  hem  er  they  comen  there 
Ayein  Theuce'r  the  kinge  of  Mese 
To  make  werre  and  for  to  sese 
His  lond  as  they  that  wolden  regne 
And  Theucer  put  out  of  his  regne. 
And  thus  the  marches  they  assaile, 
But  Theucer  yaf  to  hem  bataile. 
They  foughten  on  both  sides  faste, 
But  so  it  hapneth  atte  laste 
This  worthy  Greke  this  Achillas 
The  king  amonge  all  other  ches, 
As  he  that  was  cruel  and  felle, 
With  swerd  in  honde  on  him  he  felle 
And    smote    him    with    a    dethes 

wounde, 

That  he  unhorsdd  fell  to  grounde. 
Achilles  upon  him  alight 
And  wolde  anone,  as  he  wel  might, 
Have  slain  him  fulliche  in  the  place, 
But  Thelaphus  his  faders  grace 
For  him  besought,  and  for  pite* 
Praith  that  he  wolde*  let  him  be, 


174 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  cast  his  shield  betwene  hem 

two. 

Achilles  axeth  him  why  so. 
And  Thelaphus  his  cause  tolde 
And  saith,  that  he  is  mochel  holde, 
For  whilom  Theucer  in  a  stede 
Great  grace  and  socour  to  him  dede, 
And  saith  that  he  him  wolde  acquite 
And  praith  his  fader  to  respite. 
Achilles  tho  withdrough  his  honde ; 
But  all  the  power  of  the  londe 
Whan  that  they  sigh  her  king  thus 

take 

They  fled  and  han  the  feld  forsake. 
The  Grekes  unto  the  chace  falle 
And  for  the  moste  part  of  alle 
Of  that  contre  the  lordes  great 
They  toke  and  wonne  a  great  beyete. 
Anone  after  this  victorie, 
The  king,  whiche  hadde'  memorie, 
Upon  the  grete  mercy  thought 
Which    Thelaphus     toward     him 

wrought, 

And  in  presence  of  all  the  londe 
He  toke  him  faire  by  the  honde 
And  in  this  wise  he  gan  to  say  : 
'  My  sone,  I  mot  by  double  way 
Love  and  desire  thin  encrees, 
First  for  thy  fader  Achilles 
Whilom  full  many  a  day  ere  this 
Whan  that  I  shulde  have  fare  amis 
Rescousse  did  in  my  quarele 
And  kept  all  min  estate  in  hele, 
How  so  there  falle  now  distaunce 
Amonges  us,  yet  remembraunce 
I  have  of  mercy  whiche  he  dede 
As  than,  and  thou  nowe  in  this  stede 
Of  gentilesse  and  of  fraunchise 
Hast  do  mercy  the  same  wise ; 
So  woll  I  nought  that  any  time 
Be  lost  of  that  thou  hast  do  by  me, 
For  how  so  this  fortune  falle 
Yet  stant  my  truste  aboven  alle, 
For  the  mercy  whiche  now  I  finde, 
That  thou  wolt  after  this  be  kinde; 


And  for  that  suche  is  min  espeir 
And  for  my  sone  and  for  min  heire 
I  thee  receive,  and  all  my  londe 
I  yive  and  sese  into  thin  honde.' 
And  in  this  wise  they  accorde, 
The  cause  was  misericorde, 
The  lordes  do  her  obeisaunce 
To  Thelaphus,  and  purveaunce 
Was  made  so  that  he  was  coroned 
And  thus  was  mercy  reguerddned 
Whiche  he  to  Theucer  did  to-fore. 
"  Lo,   this    ensample    is    made 

therfore, 

That    thou    might    take    remem 
braunce, 
My  sone,  and,  whan  thou  seest  a 

chaunce, 

Of  other  mennes  passion 
Take  pite  and  compassion, 
And  let  nothing  to  the  be  lef 
Which  to  another  man  is  gref. 
And  after  this  if  thou  desire 
To  stonde  ayein  the  Vice  of  Ire, 
Counseile  thee  with  pacience 
And  take  into  thy  conscience 
Mercy  to  be  thy  governour, 
So  shalt  thou  fele  no  rancour, 
Wherof  thin  herte  shall  debate 
With  Homicide  ne  with  hate 
For  Cheste  or  for  Malencolie. 
Thou  shalt  be  softe  in  compaignie 
Withoute  Contek  or  Foolhaste, 
For  die's  might  thou  longe  waste 
Thy  time,er  that  thou  have  thy  wille 
Of  Love  ;  for  the  weder  stille 
Men  preise,  and  blame   the  tem- 

pestes." — 

"My  fader,  I  woll  do  your  hestes, 
And  of  this  point  ye  have  me  taught 
Toward  my  self  the  better  saught 1 
I  thinke  be  while  that  I  live. 
But  for  als  mochel  as  I  am  shrive 
Of  Wrath  and  all  his  circumstaunce, 
Yef  what  ye  list  to  my  penaunce 

1  Saught,  reconciled. 


BOOK  III.— WRATH. 


'75 


And  axeth  further  of  my  life, 

If  other  wise  I  be  giltif 

Of  any  thing,  that  touchethsinne." — 

"My  sone,er  we  depart  a  twinne,1 
I  shall  behinde  no  thing  leve." — 

"  My  gode  fader,  by  your  leve 
Than  axeth  forth  what  so  ye  liste, 
For  I  have  in  you  such  a  triste  2 
As  ye  that  be  my  soule  hele, 
That  ye  fro  me  nothing  wol  hele,3 
For  I  shall  telle  you  the  trouthe." — 

"  My  sone,  art  thou  coulpable  of 

Slouthe 

In  any  point,  which  to  him  long- 
eth  ?  "— 

"My  fader,  of  tho   points  me 
longeth  4 


1  A  twinne,  separated. 

3  Hele,  conceal. 

*  I  long  to  know  plainly. 


2  Triste,  trust. 


To  wite*  pleinly  what  they  mene, 
So  that  I  may  me  shrive  clene." — 
"  Now  herken,  I  shal  tho  points 

devise, 

And  understond  well  min  apprise. 
For  shrifte'  stant  of  no  value 
To    him    that    woll    him    nought 

vertue 

To  leve  of  Vied  the  folie, 
For  worde  is  wind,  but  the  mais- 

trie 

Is  that  a  man  him  self  defende 
Of  thing  whiche  is  nought  to  com- 

mende, 

Whereof  ben  fewe  now  a  day. 
And  neth&es  so  as  I  may 
Make  unto  thy  memorie  know 
The  points  of  Slouthe  thou  shalt 

knowe. 


OF    SLOTH. 


mpcw  the  Vices  to  precede 
After  the  cause  of  marines 

dede 

The  firste  point  of  Slouth  I  calle 
Lachesse,1  and  is  the  chefe  of  alle 
And  hath  this  properlich  of  kind 
To  leven  alle  thing  behind, 
Of  that  he  mighte  do  nowe  here 
He  tarieth  all  the  longe  yere 
And  evermore  he  saith  :  '  To  mor- 

we,' 

And  so  he  woll  his  time  borwe 
And  wissheth  after :  God  me  sende,2 
That  whan  he  weneth  have  an  ende, 
Than  is  he  furthest  to  beginne. 
Thus  bringeth  he  many  a  mischefe 

inne 

Unware,  till  that  he  be  mischeved 
And  may  nought  thanne  be  releved. 
And  right  so  nouther  more  ne  lesse 
It  stant  of  Love  and  of  Lachesse. 
Some  time  he  sloutheth  on  a  day, 
That  he  never  after  gete  may. 

"  Now,  sone,  as  of  this  ilke  thing 
If  thou  have  any  knouleching 
That  thou  to  Love  hast  done  er  this, 
Tell  on."—"  My  gode  fader,  yis. 
As  of  Lachesse  I  am  beknowe, 
That  I  may  stonde  upon  his  rowe, 
As  I  that  am  clad  of  his  suite, 
For  whanne  I  thoughte  my  pursuite 
To  make,  and  therto  set  a  day 

1  Lachesse,  slackness.         '-  For  a  godsend. 


To  speke  unto  that  swete  may,1 
Lachesse  bad  abide  yit 
And  bare  on  honde  it  was  no  Wit 
Ne  time  for  to  speke  as  tho.2 
Thus  with  his  tales  to  and  fro 
My  time  in  tarieng  he  drough ; 
Whan  there  was  time  good  inough, 
He  said  another  time  is  better, 
Thou  shalt  now  senden  her  a  letter 
And  par  cas  write  more  plein 
Than  thou  by  mouthe  durstest  sain. 
Thus  have  I  lette  time  slide 
For  slouthe,  and  kepte  nought  my 

tide, 

So  that  Lachesse  with  his  vice 
Full  oft  hath  made  my  wit  so  nice, 
That  what  I  thought  to  speke  or  do 
With  tarieng  he  held  me  so 
Til   whan     I    wolde    and   mighte 

nought. 

I  not  what  thing  was  in  my  thought 
Or  it  was  drede,  or  it  was  shame, 
But  ever  in  ernest  and  in  game 
I  wit  there  is  long  time  passed, 
But  yet  is  nought  the  love  lassed, 
Whiche  I  unto  my  lady  have ; 
For  though  mytunge  is  slow  to  crave 
At  alle  time,  as  I  have  bede, 
Min  hert  stant  ever  in  o  stede 
And  axeth  besiliche  grace, 
The  whiche  I  may  nought  yet  em 
brace, 


I\lay,  maid. 


-  Tho,  then. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


And  god  wot  that  is  malgre  min. 
For  this  I  wot  right  well  afin,1 
My  grace*  cometh  so  selde  aboute, 
That  is  the  Slcuthe",  which  I  double 
More  than  of  all  the  remenaunt 
Whiche  is  to  Love  appartenaunt. 

"  And  thus  as  touchend  of  La- 

chesse, 

As  I  have  tolde,  I  me  confesse 
To  you,  my  fader ;  I  beseche 
That  furthermore  ye  wol  me  techc, 
And  if  there  be  to  this  matere 
Some  goodly  tale  for  to  here, 
How  I  may  do  Lachesse  awey, 
That  ye  it  wolden  telle,  I  prey."— 

"Towissethe,mysone,andrede,- 
Among  the  tales  whiche  I  rede, 
An  olde  ensample  therupon 
Now  herken,  and  I  wol  telle  on. 

"  <B£cht  lacfjcsse  in  Loves  cas 
I  finde,  how  whilom  Eneds, 
Whom  Anchise's  to  sone  hadde, 
With  great  navie,  which  he  ladde. 
Fro  Troie  arriveth  at  Cartage. 
Wherfore  a  while  his  herbergage 
He  toke,  and  it  betidde  so 
With  her  which  was  a  quene  tho 
Of  the  citee,  his  dcqueintaunce 
He   wan,   whos  name  in   remem- 

braunce 

Is  yet,  and  Dido  was  she  hote, 
Which  loveth  £neds  so  hote 
Upon  the  wordes  whiche  he  saide, 
That  all  her  hert  on  him  she  laide 
And  did  all  holy  what  he  wolde. 
But  after  that,  as  it  be  sholde, 
Fro  thenne  he  goth  toward  Itaile 
By  ship  and  there  his  arrivaile 
Hath  take  and  shope  him  for  to 

ride. 
But  she,  which  may  nought  longe 

abide 
The  hold  peine  of  love's  throwe,3 

1  Afin,  at  last.  -  Reeif,  counsel. 

3  Thrcnvf,  throt. 


Anon  within  a  litel  throwe  l 
A  letter  unto  her  knight  hath  write 
And  did  him  pleinly  for  to  wite 
If  he  made  any  tarieng 
To  drecche  2  of  his  ayein  comming, 
That  she  ne  might  him  fele  and  se, 
She  shulde'  stonde  in  such  degre 
As  whilom  stood  a  swan  to-fore 
Of  that  she  hadde  her  make*  lore  '• 
For  sorwe  a  fether  into  her  brain 
She  shof  and  hath  her  selve*  slain. 
As  king  Menander  in  a  lay 
The  soth  hath  foundd,  where  she  lay 
Spraulend  with  her  winge"s  twey 
As  she  which  shulde*  thanne*  deie 
For  love  of  him  which  was  her  make. 
And  so  shal  I  do  for  thy  sake 
This  quene  saide",  wel  I  wote. 

"  Lo,  to  Enee  thus  she  wrote 
WTith  many  another  word  of  pleint. 
But  he  which  had  his  thoughte's  feint 
Towardds  Love  and  full  of  Slouthe, 
His  time  let,  and  that  was  routhe. 
For  she,  which  loveth  him  to-fore, 
Desireth  ever  more  and  more 
And  whan  she  sigh  him  tary  so, 
Her  herte*  was  so  full  of  wo, 
That  compleignend  manyfolde 
She  hath  her  owne  tale  tolde 
Unto  her  self  and  thus  she  spake  : 
*  Ha,  who  found  ever  suche  a  lacke 
Of  Slouth  in  any  worthy  knight  ? 
Now  wote  I  well  my  deth  is  dight 
Through  him,  which  shuld  have  be 

my  life.' 

But  for  to  stinten  all  this  strife 
Thus  whan  she  sigh  none  other  bote, 
Right  even  unto  her  hert£  rote 
A  naked  swerd  anone  she  threste 
And  thus  she  gat  her  selve'  reste 
In  remembraiince  of  alle*  slowe. 

"Wherof,  my  sone*,  thou  might 
knowe, 


,  space  of  time.        -  Drtcche,  delay. 
::  Makt  iffff,  lost  her  mate. 

M 


I78 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


How  tarieng  upon  the  nede 
In  Loves  cause  is  for  to  drede. 
And  that  hath  Dido  sore  abought, 
Whose  deth  shall  ever  be  bethought. 
And  evermore  if  I  shal  seche 
In  this  matere  another  speche 
In  a  cronique  I  finde  write 
A  tale,  whiche  is  good  to  wite. 

"  ^lf  'iroie  whan  king  Ylixes 
Upon  the  siege,  among  the  pres 
Of  hem  that  worthy  knightes  were, 
Abode  long  time  stille  there, 
In  thilke  time  a  man  may  se, 
How  goodly  that  Penelope, 
Which  was  to  him  his  trewe  wife, 
Of  his  Lachesse  was  pleintife, 
Wherof  to  Troie  she  him  sende 
Her  will  by  letter,  thus  spekende  : 

'  My  worthy  love  and  lord  also, 
It  is  and  hath  ben  ever  so, 
That  where  a  woman  is  alone 
It  maketh  a  man  in  his  persone 
The  more  hardy  for  to  wowe, 
In  hope  that  she  wolde  bowe 
To  such  thinge  as  his  wille  were, 
While  that  her  lord  were  die's  where. 
And  of  my  self  I  telle  this, 
For  it  so  longe  passed  is 
Sith  first  that  ye  fro  home  wente, 
That  well  nigh  every  man  is  wente 
To  there  I  am  while  ye  be  oute, 
Hath  made  and  eche  of  hem  aboute 
Which  love  can  my  love  seche 
With  great   praie"re    and    me   be- 

seche. 

And  some  maken  great  mandce, 
That  if  they  mighten  come  in  place, 
Where  that  they  mighten  her ;  will 

have, 

There  is  no  thing  me  shulde  save, 
That  they  ne  wolde  werche  thinges. 
And  some  tellen  me  tidinges, 
That  ye  ben  dede,  and  some  sain, 
That  certainly  ye  ben  besain  2 

1  Her,  their.  -  Besain,  resolved. 


To  love  a  newe  and  leve  me. 
But  how  as  ever  that  it  be, 
I  thonke  unto  the  goddes  alle 
As  yet  for  ought  that  is  befalle, 
May  no  man  do  my  chekes  rede. 
But  netheUes  it  is  to  drede, 
That  Lachesse  in  continuaunce 
Fortune  mighte  suche  a  chaunce, 
Whichnoman  after  sholde  amende/ 
"Lo,  thus  this  lady  compleignende 
A  letter  unto  her  lord  hath  write 
And  praid  him,  that  he  wolde  wite 
And  thenke  how  that  she  was  al  his, 
And  that  he  tarie  nought  in  this, 
But  that  he  wold  his  love  acquite 
To  her  ayeinward,  and  nought  write 
But  come  him  self  in  alle  haste, 
That  he  none  other  paper  waste, 
So  that  he    kepe  and  holde   his 

trouthe 
Withoute  let  of  any  Slouthe. 

"  Unto  her  lord  and  love  liege 
To  Troie,  where  the  grete  siege 
Was  laid,  this  letter  was  conveied. 
And  he,  which  wisdome  hath  pur- 

veied 

Of  all  that  to  reson  belongeth, 
With  gentil  herte  it  underfongeth. 
And  whan  he  hath  it  overrad, 
In  parte  he  was  right  inly  glad 
And  eke  in  parte  he  was  disesed.1 
But  love  his  hert  hath  so  through 

sesed 

With  pure  ymaginacion, 
That  for  none  occupacidn 
Whiche  he  can  take  on  other  side 
He  may  nought  flit  his  herte  aside 
Fro  that  his  wife  him  had  enformed, 
Wherof  he  hath  him  self  conformed 
With  all  the  will  of  his  corage 
To  shape  and  take  the  viage 
Homeward,  what  time  that  he  may. 
So  that  him  thenketh  of  a  day 
A  thousand  yere  till  he  may  se 

1  Disesed,  made  uneasy. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


'79 


The  visage  of  I'enelope, 
Whiche  he  desireth  most  of  alle. 
And  whan  the  time  is  so  befalle 
That  Troid  was  distruied  and  brent, 
He  madd  non  delaidment, 
But  goth  him  home  in  alle  hie,1 
Where  that  he  found  to-fore  his  eye 
His  worthy  wife  in  good  estate, 
And  thus  was  cesse'd  the  debate 
Of  Love,  and  Slouthe  was  excused? 
Which  doth  great  harm  wher  it  is 

used, 

And  hindreth  many  a  cause  hondst. 
"  For  of  the  gretd  clerk  Grostest 
I  rede  how  busy  that  he  was 
Upon  the  clergie  an  heved'2  of  bras 
To  forge  and  make  it  for  to  telle 
Of  suchd  thingds  as  befelle. 
And  seven  yerds  besinesse 
He  laidd,  but  for  the  Lachesse 
Of  half  a  minute  of  an  houre 
Fro  firstd  he  began  laboure 
He  lost  all  that  he  hadde  do. 
And  other  while  it  fareth  so 
In  Lovds  cause,  who  is  slowe, 
That  he  without  under  the  wowe  3 
By  nightd  stant  full  oft  a  colde, 
Which  mighte,  if  that  he  haddd 

wolde 

His  timd  kept,  have  be  withinne. 
But  Slouthd  may  nought  profit 

winne, 

But  he  may  singe  in  his  carole, 
How  latewar  came  to  the  dole,4 
Where  he  no  good  receivd  might. 
And  that  was  proved  well  by  night 
Whilome  of  the  maidens  five, 
Whan  thilkd  lord  came  for  to  wive, 
For  that  her  5  oile  was  awey 
To  light  her  lampds  in  his  wey, 
Her  Slouthd  brought  it  so  aboute 
Fro  him  that  they  be  shet  withoute. 

1  Hie,  haste.  2  Heved.  head. 

3  iy<nvf,  wall. 

4  Late-aware  came  to  the  sharing. 
6  Her,  their. 


"  Wherof,  my  sond,  be  thou  ware, 
Als  ferforth  as  I  telle  dare. 
For  Lovd  mustd  ben  awaited, 
And  if  thou  be  nought  well  aflfaited1 
In  Lovd  to  escheud  Slouthe, 
My  sond,  for  to  telle  trouthe 
Thou  might  nought  of  thy  self  ben 

able 

To  winnd  love  or  make  it  stable, 
All    though    thou    mightest    love 

acheve."— 

"  My  fader,  that  I  may  well  leve. 
But  me  was  never  assigndd  place 
Where  yet  to  geten  any  grace, 
Nemewas  non  such  time  appointed, 
For  than  I  wolde  I  were  unjointed 
Of  every  limme  that  I  have 
And  I  ne  shulde  kepe  and  save 
Min  hourd  bothe  and  eke  my  stede, 
If  my  lad£  it  haddd  bede. 
But  she  is  otherwise  avised 
Than  grauntd  suche  a  time  assised. 
And  nethdless  of  my  Lachesse 
There  hath  be  no  default  I  gesse 
Of  time  loste,  if  that  I  mighte. 
But  yet  her  liketh  nought  alighte 
Upon  no  lure  which  I  caste. 
For  ay  the  more  I  crid  faste 
The  lasse  her  liketh  for  to  here. 
So  for  to  speke  of  this  matere 
I  sechd  that  I  may  nought  finde, 
I  haste  and  ever  I  am  behinde 
And    wot    nought    what    it    may 

amounte. 

But  fader,  upon  min  accompte, 
Whiche  ye  ben  set  to  examine 
Of  shrifte  after  the  discipline, 
Say  what  your  bestdcounseileis." — 
"  My  sond,  my  counseil  is  this. 
How  so  it  stonde  of  timd  go, 
Do  forth  thy  besinessd  so, 
That  no  Lachesse  in  thee  be  founde, 
For    Slouthe    is    mighty  to    con- 

founde 

1  Affaited)  adapted  to  the  purpose. 


i8o 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  spede  of  every  mannes  werke. 
For  many  a  Vice,  as  saith  the  clerke, 
There  hongen  upon  Slouthes  lappe 
Of  suche  as  make  a  man  mishappe 
To  pieigne  and  tell  of  had-I-wist.1 
And  therupon  if  that  thee  list 
To  knowe  of  Slouthes  cause  more 
In  special  yet  evermore 
There  is  a  Vice  full  grevable 
To  him  which  is  therof  coulpable, 
And  stant  of  alle  Vertue  bare 
Here  after  as  I  shall  declare. 
"<ioud)en&  of  stouf!)  in  his 

degre, 

There  is  yet  Pusillamite, 
Which  is  to  say  in  this  langdge 
He  that  hath  litel  of  cordge 
And  dare  no  mannes  werk  beginne ; 
So  may  he  nought  by  reson  winne. 
For  who  that  nought  dare  undertake 
By  right  he  shall  no  profit  take. 
But  of  this  Vice  the  nature 
Dare  nothing  set  in  aventure, 
Him  lacketh  bothe  worde  and  dede, 
Wherof  he  shuld  his  cause  spede. 
He  woll  no  manhode  understonde, 
For  ever  he  hath  drede  upon  honde 
All  is  perill  that  he  shall  say, 
Him  thenkeththe  wolfeis  in  the  way. 
And  of  ymaginacidn 
He  maketh  his  excusacion 
And  feigneth  cause  of  pure  drede 
And  ever  he  faileth  atte  nede 
Till  all  be  spilt  that  he  with  deleth. 
He  hath  the  sore  which  no  man 

heleth, 

The  whiche  is  cleped  lacke  of  herte; 
Though    every    grace    about    him 

sterte, 

He  woll  nought  one's  stere  his  fote, 
So  that  by  reson  lese  he  mote 
That   woll    nought   aunter    for  to 

winne. 

1  Had-I-wist,  if  I   had  only  known.     See 
note  i,  page  75. 


"  And  so  forth,  sone,  if  we  be 
ginne 

To  speke  of  Love  and  his  service, 
There  ben  truantes  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  lacken  herte  whan  best  were 
They  speken  of  Love,  and  right  for 

fere 
They  waxen  dombe  and  dare  nought 

telle, 

Withouten  soun  as  doth  the  belle 
Whiche    hath    no    clapper   for    to 

chime. 

And  right  so  they  as  for  the  time 
Ben  herteles  withoute  speche 
Of  Love  and  dare  nothing  beseche  : 
And    thus    they    lese    and    winne* 

nought. 

Forthy,  my  sone,  if  thou  art  ought 
Coulpa'ble  as  touchend  of  this 

Slouthe, 
Shrive    thee   therof  and    tell   me 

trouthe." — 

"  My  fader,  I  am  all  beknowe 
That  I  have  ben  one  of  the  slowe 
As  for  to  telle  in  Love's  cas. 
Min  herte  is  yet  and  ever  was 
As  though  the  world  shuld  al  to- 

breke, 

So  ferful  that  I  dare  nought  speke 
Of  what  purpds  that  I  have  nome 
Whan  I  toward  my  lady  come, 
But  let  it  passe  and  overgo." — 

"  My  sone,  do  no  more  so. 
For  after  that  a  man  pursueth, 
To  Love  so  Fortune  sueth 
Ful    oft    and    yiveth    her    happy 

chaunce 
To    him    which    maketh    continu- 

aunce 

To  preie  love  and  to  beseche, 
As  by  ensample  I  shall  the  teche, 
gf  ftnbc,  how  whilom  there  was 

one, 

Whose  name  was  Pigmaleon. 
Which  was  a  lusty  man  of  youthe. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


181 


The  werke's  of  entaile  l  he  couthe 
Above  all  other  men  as  tho. 
And  through  Fortune  it  felle  him  so 
As  he,  whom  Love  shall  travaile, 
He  made  an  ymage  of  entaile 
Lich  to  a  woman  in  semblaunce 
Of  feture  and  of  contenaunce, 
So  faire  yet  never  was  figure. 
Right  as  a  lives  creature 
She  semeth,  for  of  yvor  white 
He  hath  it  wrought  of  such  delite, 
That  she  was  rody  on  the  cheke 
And  rede  on  both  her  lippe's  eke, 
Wherof  that  he  him  self  beguileth, 
For  with  a  goodly  loke  she  smileth :  I 
So  that  through  pure  impression 
Of  his  ymagination 
With  all  the  herte  of  his  cora"ge 
His  love  upon  this  faire  ymdge 
He  set,  and  her  of  love  preide. 
But  she  no  worde  ayeinvvard  said. 
The  longe  day  what  thing  he  dede 
This  ymage  in  the  same  stede  2 
Was  ever  by,  that  atte  mete 
He  wold  her  serve  and  praideherete 
And  put  unto  her  mouth  the  cup. 
And  whan  the  bord  was  taken  up, 
He  did  as  he  would  her  embrace. 
And  ever  among  he  axeth  grace, 
As  though  she  wiste  what  it  mente. 
And  thus  him  self  he  gan  tormente 
With  such  disese  of  loves  peine, 
That  no  man  might  him  more  peine. 
But  how  it  were  of  his  penaunce 
He  made  such  continuaunce 
Fro  day  to  night  and  praid  so  longe, 
That  his  praiere  is  underfonge, 
Which  Venus  of  her  grace*  herde 
By  night,  and  whan  that  he  worst 

ferde 

And  it  lay  in  his  naked  arme, 
The  cold  ymdge  he  feeleth  warme 
Of  flesshe  and  bone  and  full  of  life. 
Lo,  thus  he  wanne  a  lusty  wife, 

1  Entailc,  carving,  sculpture.      a  Stedc,  place. 


Whiche  obeisaunt  was  at  his  will. 
And  if  he  wolde  have  hold  him  still 
And  nothing  spoke,  he  shuld  have 

failed. 
"By  this  ensample  thou  might 

finde, 
That    word    may    worche    above 

kinde. 

Forthy,  my  sone,  if  that  thou  spare 
To  speke*,  lost  is  all  thy  fare, 
For  Slouthe  bringeth  in  alle  wo. 
*•'  And  over  this  to  loke  also, 
It  semeth  Love  is  welwillende 
To  hem  that  ben  continuende 
With  besy  herte  to  pursue 
Thing  which  that  is  to  Love  due. 
\Vherof,  my  sone,  in  this  matere 
Thou  might  ensample  taken  here, 
That  with  thy  grete^  besinesse 
Thou  might  atteigne'  the  richesse 
Of  Love,  that  there  be  no  Sleuth." — 

"  But  fader,  so  as  it  is  right 
In  'forme  of  shrift  e  to  beknowe 
What  thing  belongeth  to  the 

slowe, 

Your  faderhode  I  wolde  pray, 
If  there  be  further  any  way 
Touchend  unto  this  ilke  Vice/'-* 

"j&Ig  sono,  £0,  of  this  office 
There  serveth  one  in  special, 
Which  lost  hath  his  memorial, 
So  that  he  can  no  wit  witholde 
In  thing  which  he  to  kepe  is  holde, 
Wherof  full  ofte  him  self  he  gre- 

veth. 

And  who  that  most  upon  him  leveth, 
Whan  that  his  wittes  ben  so  weived, 
He  may  full  lightly  be  deceived. 
To  serve  Accidie  in  his  office, 
There  is  of  Slouth  an  other  Vice, 
Which  cleped  is  Foryetelnesse, 
That  nought  may  in  his  herte  im- 

presse 

Of  vertue,  which  reson  hath  set, 
So  clene  his  wine's  he  foryete. 


182 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


For  in  the  tellinge  of  his  tale 
No  more  his  herte  than  his  male  1 
Hath  remembraunceof  thilkd  forme 
Wherof  he  sholde  his  wit  enforme 
As  than,  and  yet  ne  wot  he  why. 
Thus  is  his  purpos  nought  forthy 
Forlore,  of  that  he  wolde  bidde, 
And  scarsely  if  he  saith  the  thridde2 
To  love  of  that  he  hadde  ment. 
Thus  many  a  lover  hath  be  shent. 
Telle  on  therefore,  hast  thou  ben 

one 
Of  hem  that   Slouth  hath  so  be- 

gonne  ?  " — 

11  Ye  fader,  ofte  it  hath  ben  so, 
That  whan  I  am  my  lady  fro 
And  thenke  me  toward  her  drawe, 
Than  cast  I  many  a  newe  lawe 
And  all  the  world  torne  up  so  down 
And  so  recorde  I  my  lessoun 
And  write  in  my  memoriall 
What  I  unto  her  telle  shall, 
Right  all  the  mater  of  my  tale. 
But  all  nis  worth  a  nutteshale. 
For  whan  I  come  there  she  is, 
I  have  it  all  foryete  iwis 
Of  that  I  thoughte  for  to  telle  ; 
I  can  nought  than  unnethes  spelle 
That  I  wende  altherbest  have  rad, 
So  sore  I  am  of  her  adrad. 
For  as  a  man  that  sodeinly 
A  gost  beholdeth  so  fare  I, 
So  that  for  fere  I  can  nought  gete 
My  wit,  but  I  my  self  foryete, 
That  I  wot  never  what  I  am, 
Ne  whider  I   shall,  ne  whenne  I 

cam, 

But  muse  as  he  that  were  amased. 
Lich  to  the  boke  in  whiche  is  rased 
The  letter  and  may  nothing  be  rad 
So  ben  my  witte's  overlad, 
That  what  as  ever  I  thought  have 

spoken, 
It  is  out  of  min  herte  stoken, 

1  Maltt  bag.  -  Thriddc,  third. 


And  stonde  as  who  saith  doumbe 

and  defe, 

That  all  nis  worth  an  yvy  lefe 
Of  that  I  wende  well  have  saide. 
And  atte  last  I  make  abraide,1 
Cast  up  min  heed  and  loke  aboute 
Right  as  a  man  that  were  in  doubte 
And  wot  not  where  he  shall  become. 
Thus  am  I  oft  all  overcome 
There  as  I  wende  best  to  stonde. 
But  after,  whan  I  understonde 
And  am  in  other  place  alone, 
I  make  many  a  wofull  mone 
Unto  my  self  and  speke  so  : 

'  Ha  fool,  where  was  thine  herte 

tho 

Whan  thou  thy  worthy  lady  sigh, 
Were  thou  afered  of  her  eye  ? 
For  of  her  hond  there  is  no  drede, 
So  well  I  knowe  her  womanhede, 
That  in  her  is  no  more  oultrage 
Than  in  a  childe  of  thre  yere  age. 
Why  hast  thou  drede  of  so  good  one, 
Whom  alle  vertue  hath  begone,2 
That  in  her  is  no  violence 
But  goodlyhede  and  innocence 
Withouten  spot  of  any  blame. 
Ha,  nice  herte,  fy  for  shame, 
A  cowarde  herte  of  love  unlered, 
Wherof  art  thou  so  sore  afered, 
That  thou  thy  tunge  suffrest  frese 
And  wolt  thy  gode  wordes  lese, 
Whan  thou  hast  founde  time  and 

space : 

How  sholdest  thou  deserve  grace, 
Whan  thou  thy  self  darst  axe  none, 
But  all  thou  hast  foryete  anone  ? ' 
And  thus  dispute  in  Loves  lore, 
Buthelpenefmde  I  nought  the  more, 
But  stomble  upon  min  owne  treine 
And  make  an  eking  3  of  my  peine. 

1  Make  abraide,   start  suddenly,   as  from 
sleep. 

2  Begone,  gone  round  about,  wholly  occu 
pied,  as  in  "  woe-begone.'' 

3  Eking,  increasing. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


For  ever  whan  I  thenke  amonge, 
Howe  all  is  on  my  self  alonge 
I  say  :  *  O  fool  of  alle  fooles 
Thoufarest  as  he  betwenetwo  stoles 
That  wolde  sit  and  goth  to  grounde. 
It  was  ne  never  shall  be  founde 
Betwene  Foryetelnesse  and  Drede, 
That  man  shulde  any  causd  spede.' 
And  thus,  min  holy  father  dere, 
Toward  my  self,  as  ye  may  here, 
I  pleigne  of  my  foryetelnesse. 
But  ellds  all  the  businesse, 
That  may  be  take  of  mannes  thought, 
My  herte  taketh   and  is  through 

sought 

To  thenken  ever  upon  that  swete 
Withoute  Slouthe  I  you  behete. 
For  what  so  falle  or  wel  or  wo, 
That  thought  foryete  I  nevermo, 
Where  so  I  laugh  or  so  I  loure 
Nought  half  a  minute  of  an  houre 
Ne  might  I  lette  out  of  my  minde 
But  if  I  thought  upon  that  ende: 
Therof  me  shall  no  Slouthe  lette, 
Till  Deth  out  of  this  world  me  fette, 
All  though  I  had  on  suche  a  ring, 
As  Moises  through  his  enchaunting 
Sometime  in  Ethiope  made, 
Whan  that  he  Tharbis  wedded  had, 
Which  ringe  bare  of  oblivion 
The  name,  and  that  was  by  reson, 
That  were  it  on  a  finger  sate, 
Anone  his  Love  he  so  foryate, 
As  though  he  had  it  never  knowe. 
And  so  it  fell  that  ilkd  throwe, 
Whan  Tharbis  had  it  on  her  honde, 
No  knouleching  of  him  she  fonde, 
But  all  was  clene  out  of  memoire, 
As  men  may  reden  in  histoire. 
And  thus  he  wentd  quite  away, 
That  never  after  that  ilk£  day 
She  thought,  that  there  was  such  a 

one; 

All  was  foryete  and  overgone. 
But  in  good  feith  so  may  nought  I. 


For  she  is  ever  fastd  by 

So  nigh,  that  she  min  herte  toucheth 

That  for    no    thing    that    Slouthd 

voucheth 

I  may  foryete  her,  lefe  ne  loth. 
For  over  all  where  as  she  goth, 
Min  herte  folweth  her  aboute. 
Thus  may  I  say  withouten  double, 
For  bet,  for  wers,  fox  ought,  for 

nought 

She  passeth  never  fro  my  thought. 
But  whan  I  am  there  as  she  is, 
Min  hert,  as  I  you  said  er  this, 
Sometime  of  her  is  sore  adrad 
And  sometime  it  is  overglad 
All  out  of  reule  and  out  of  space. 
For  whan  I  se  her  goodly  face 
And  thenke  upon  her  highe  pris, 
As  though  I  were  in  paradis, 
I  am  so  ravisshed  of  the  sight, 
That  speke  unto  her  I  ne  might 
As  for  the  time,  though  I  wolde. 
For  I  ne  may  my  witte  unfolde 
To  finde  o  worde  of  that  I  mene, 
But  all  it  is  foryete  clene. 
And  though  I  stonde  there  a  mile, 
All  is  foryete  for  the  while; 
A  tunge  I  have  and  wordes  none. 
And  thus  I  stonde  and  thenke  alone 
Of  thing  that  helpeth  ofte  nought. 
But  what  I  had  afore  thought 
To  speke",  whan  I  come  there, 
It  is  foryete,  as  nought  ne  were. 
And  stond  amased  and  assoted, 
That  of  no  thing  which  I  have  noted 
I  can  nought  than  a  note  singe, 
But  all  is  out  of  knoulechinge. 
Thus  what  for  joy  and  what  fordrede 
All  is  foryeten  atte  nede, 
So  that,  my  fader,  of  this  Slouthe 
I  have  you  said  the  pleine  trouthe, 
Ye  may  it,  as  ye  list,  redresse. 
For  thus  stant  my  foryetelnesse 
And  eke  my  pusillamite. 
Say  now  forth  what  ye  list  to  me, 


i84 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


For  I  wol  only  do  by  you." — 
"  My  sone,  I  have  wel  herd,  how 

thou 
Hast    said,    and    that    thou    must 

amende. 

For  Love  his  grace  wol  nought  sende 
To  that  man  which  dare  axe  none. 
For  this  we  knowen  everychone, 
A  mannes  thought  withoute  speche 
God  wot,  and  yet  that  man  beseche 
His  will  is.1     For  withoute  bedes 
He  doth  his  grace  in  fewe  stedes. 
And  what  manthatforyetehimselve, 
Among  athousand  be  nought  twelve 
That  wol  him  take  in  remembraunce, 
But    let    him    falle    and    take   his 

chaunce. 

Forthy  pull  up  a  besy  herte, 
My  sone,  and  let  no  thing  asterte 
Of  Lov£  fro  thy  besinesse. 
For  touching  of  foryetelnesse, 
Which  many  alovehath  set  behinde, 
A  tale  of  great  en  sample  I  finde, 
Wherof  it  is  pite  to  wite 
In  the  maner  as  it  is  write. 
Jung  Pemepl)on  whan  he  by 

ship 

To  Troie  ward  with  felaship 
Sailend  goth  upon  his  wey, 
It  hapneth  him  at  Rodepey, 
As  Eolus  him  hadde  blowe 
To  londe  and  rested  for  a  throwe. 
And  fell  that  ilke  time  thus, 
That  the  doughter  of  Ligurgus, 
Which  quene  was  of  the  centre, 
Was  sojourned  in  that  citee 
Within  a  castel  nigh  the  stronde, 
Where  Demephon  cam  up  to  londe. 
Phillis  she  hight  and  of  yong  age 
And  of  stature  and  of  visdge 
She  had  all  that  her  best  besemeth. 
Of  Demephon  right  wel  her  que- 
meth,2 

1  Although  God  knows  our  thoughts,  yet  his 
will  is  that  we  utter  them  in  prayer. 
-  Her  quemeth,  is  agreeable  to  her. 


Whan  he  was  come  and  made  him 

chere. 

And  he,  that  was  of  his  manere 
A  lusty  knight,  ne  might  asterte 
That  he  ne  set  on  her  his  herte, 
So  that  within  a  day  or  two 
HS  thought,  how  ever  that  it  go, 
He  wolde  assaie  the  fortune; 
And  gan  his  herte  to  comune 
With  goodly  wordes  in  her  ere, 
And  for  to  put  her  out  of  fere 
He   swore  and    hath  his    trouthe 

plight 

To  be  for  ever  her  owne  knight. 
And  thus  with  her  he  stille  abode 
There,  while  his  ship  on  anker  rode, 
And  had  inough  of  time  and  space 
To  speke  of  love  and  sech£  grace. 
This  lady  herd  all  that  he  saide, 
And  how  he   swore   and  how  he 

praide, 

Which  was  as  an  enchauntement 
To  here,  that  was  as  innocent. 
As  though  it  were  trouthe  and  feith 
She  leveth  all  that  ever  he  saith, 
And  as  her  in  fortune  sholde 
She  graunteth  him  all  that  he  wolde. 
Thus  was  he  for  the  time  in  joie, 
Til  that  he  shulde  go  tcr  Troie, 
But  tho  she  made  mochel  sorwe 
And  he  his  trouth^  laid  to  borwe 1 
To  come  and  if  that  he  live  may 
Ayein  within  a  monthd  day. 
And  therupon  they  kisten  bothe, 
But  were  hem  leef  or  werehem  lothe 
To  ship  he  goth,  and  forth  he  went 
To  Troy,  as  was  his  first  entent. 
The  dales  go,  the  monthe  passeth, 
Her  love  encreseth  and  his  lasseth  ; 
For  him  she  left^  slepe  and  mete, 
And  he  his  time  hath  all  foryete, 
So  that  this  wofull  yonge"  quene, 
Which  wot  nought  what  it  mighte 

mene, 

1  To  lonve,  in  pledge. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


'85 


A  letter  send  and  praid  him  come  | 
And  saith  how  she  is  overcome 
With  strengthe  of  love  in  suche  a 

wise, 

That  she  nought  longe  may  suffise 
To  liven  out  of  his  presence, 
And  put  upon  his  conscience 
The  trouthe'  whiche  he  hath  behote, 
Wherof  she  loveth  him  so  hote, 
She  saith,  that  if  he  lenger  lette 
Of  such  a  day  as  she  him  sette, 
She  shulde  sterven  in  his  Slouthe, 
Which   were   a   shame    unto    his 

trouthe. 

This  letter  is  forth  upon  her  sonde, 
Wherof  somdele  comfdrt  on  honde 
She  toke,  as  she  that  wolde  abide 
And  waite  upon  that  ilke  tide 
Which  she  hath  in  her  letter  write. 
But  now  is  pite  for  to  wite, 
As  he  did  erst,  so  he  foryate 
His  time  eftsone  and  over-sate. 
But  she,  which  mights'  nought  do  so, 
The  tide  awaiteth  evermo 
And  cast  her  eye  upon  the  see. 
Somtime*  nay,  somtime'  ye, 
Somtime  he  cam,  somtime'  nought. 
Thus  she  disputeth  in  her  thought 
And  wot  nought  what  she  thenke 

may. 

But  fastend  all  the  longe*  day 
She  was  into  the  derke  night ; 
And  tho  she  hath  do  set  up  light 
In  a  lanterne  on  high  alofte 
Upon  a  toure,  where  she  goth  ofte 
In  hope'  that  in  his  commmge 
He  shulde'  se  the  light  brennmge, 
Wherof  he  might  his  weies  right 
To  come  where  she  was  by  night. 
But  all  for  nought,  she  was  deceived, 
For  Venus  hath  her  hope  weived 
And  shewed  her  upon  the  sky 
How  that  the  day  was  faste"  by, 
So  that  within  a  litel  throwe 
The  dale's  light  she  mighte*  knowe  ; 


Tho  she  beheld  the  see  at  large  : 
And  whan  she  sigh  there  was  no 

barge 

Ne  ship,  als  fer  as  she  may  kenne, 
Down  fro  the  tour  she  gan  to  renne 
Into  an  herber  all  her  owne, 
Where  many  a  wonder  wofull  mone 
She  made,  that  no  life  it  wist, 
As  she  which  all  her  joie  mist, 
That  now  she  swouneth,  now  she 

pleigneth, 

And  all  her  face  she  disteigneth 
With  terds,  whiche  as  of  a  welle 
The  stremes  from  her  even  felle. 
So  as  she  might,  and  ever  in  one, 
She  cleped  upon  Demephon 
And  said  :  *  Alas,  thou  slowe  wight, 
Where    was    there    ever   suche   a 

knight, 

That  so  through  his  ungentilesse 
Of  Slouthe  and  of  Foryetelnesse 
Ayein  his  trouthe  brak  his  Steven.'1 
And  tho  her  eye  up  to  the  heven 
She  cast  and  saide  :  *  O  thou  un- 

kinde, 
Here  shalt  thou  through  thy  Slouthe 

finde, 

If  that  the  list  to  come  and  se, 
A  lady  dede  for  love  of  the, 
So  as  I  shall  my  selve  spille, 
Whome,  if  it  hadde'  be  thy  wille, 
Thou  mightest  save  well  inough. 
With  that  upon  a  grene'  bough 
Aceinteofsilke,  which  she  therehad, 
She  knette,  and  so  her  self  she  lad 
That  she  about  her  white  swere  2 
It  did,  and  henge  her  selven  there. 
Wherof  the  godde's  were  amoved, 
And  Demephon  was  so  reproved, 
That  of  the  godde's  providence 
Was  shape*  suche  an  evidence 
Ever  afterward  ayein  the  slowe, 
That  Phillis  in  the  same  throwe  3 

1  Steven,  voice.  2  Swtrtt  neck. 

»  Throwt,  space  of  time. 


i86 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Was  shape  into  a  nutte-tre, 
That  alle  men  it  mighte  se, 
And  after  Phillis  philliberd  l 
This  tre  was  cleped  in  the  yerd, 
And  yet  for  Demephon  to  shame 
Into  this  day  it  bereth  the  name. 
This  wofull  chaunce  how  that  it  ferde 
Anone  as  Demephon  it  herde 
And  every  man  it  hadde  in  speche, 
His  sorwe  was  nought  tho  to  seche, 
He  gan  his  Slouthe  for  to  banne,2 
But  it  was  all  to  late  thanne. 
"  Lo,  thus,  my  sone,  might  thou 

wite 

Ayein  this  Vice  how  it  is  write, 
For  no  man  may  the  harme's  gesse, 
That  fallen  through  Foryetelnesse, 
Wherof  that  I  thy  shrift  have  herd. 
But  yet  of  Slouthe  how  it  hath  ferd 
In  other  wise  I  thenke  oppose, 
If  thou  have  gilt,  as  I  suppose. 

gfulfiUcb  of  Slouthes  exemplaire 
There  is  yet  one  his  secretaire, 
And  he  is  cleped  Negligence, 
Which  woll  nought   loke  his  evi 
dence, 

Wherof  he  may  beware  to-fore.  . 
But  whan  he  hath  his  cause  lore 
Than  is  he  wise  after  the  honde, 
Whan  helpe  may  no  maner  bonde 
Than  atte  firste  wold  he  binde. 
Thus  evermore  he  stant  behinde, 
Whan  he  the  thing  may  nought 

amende, 

Than  is  he  ware,  and  saith  at  ende  : 
'  Ha,  wolde  god  I  hadde  knowe,' 
Wherof  bejap^d  with  a  mowe  3 
He  goth,  for  whan  the  grete  stede 
Is  stole  than  he  taketh  hede 
And  maketh  the  stable-dore"  fast. 
Thus  ever  he  pleith  an  after  cast 
Of  all  that  he  shall  say  or  do. 


l  Philliberd,  filbert.  _ 

-  Jjanue,  put  under  interdict. 

3  Motve,  mouth,  grimace. 


He  hath  a  maner  eke  also, 
Him  list  nought  lerne  to  be  wise, 
For  he  sette  of  no  vertu  prise 
But  as  him  liketh  for  the  while, 
So  feleth  he  ful  ofte  guile 
Whan    that    he  weneth    siker    to 

stonde. 
And  thus  thou  might  wel  under- 

stonde, 

My  sone,  if  thou  art  suche  in  love 
Thou  might  nought  come  at  thin 

above 
Of  that  thou  woldestwel  acheve." — 

"  Min  holy  fader,  as  I  leve, 
I  may  wel  with  sauf  conscience 
Excuse"  me  of  Negligence 
Towardes  Love  in  alle  wise. 
For  though  I  be  none  of  the  wise, 
I  am  so  truly  amorous, 
That  I  am  ever  curious 
Of  hem  that  conne  best  enforme 
To  knowe  and  witen  all  the  forme, 
What  falleth  unto  Love's  craft. 
But  yet  ne  fond  I  nought  the  haft 
Which  might  unto  the  blade  accorde. 
For  never  herd  I  men  recorde 
What  thinge  it  is  that  might  availe 
To  winne  love  withoute"  faile. 
Yet  so  fer  couthe  I  never  finde 
Man  that  by  reson  ne  by  kinde 
Me  couthe"  teche  suche  an  arte, 
That  he  ne  failed  of  a  parte. 
And  as  toward  min  ovvne  wit 
Contrive  I  couthe  never  yit 
To  finden  any  sikernesse, 
That  me  might  other  more  or  lesse 
Of  Love  make  for  to  spede. 
For  leveth  wel  withouten  drede, 
If  that  there  were  suche  a  wey 
As  certainly  as  I  shall  deie 
I  hadde  it  lerned  longe  ago ; 
But  I  wot  wel  there  is  none  so. 
And  netheles  it  may  wel  be 
I  am  so  rude  in  my  degre* 
And  eke  my  wittds  ben  so  dull, 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


187 


That  I  nc  may  nought  to  the  full 
Atteigne  unto  so  highe  a  lore. 
But  this  I  dar  say  evermore, 
All  though  my  Wit  n.e  be  nought 

stronge, 

It  is  nought  on  my  Will  alonge ; 
For  that  is  besy  night  and  day 
To  lerne  all  that  he  lerne'  may, 
How  that  I  might6  Lovd  winne. 
But  yet  I  am  as  to  beginne 
Of  that  I  wolde*  make  an  ende, 
And  for  I  not  l  how  it  shall  wende, 
That  is  to  me  my  mostd  sorwe. 
But  I  dare  takd  God  to  borwe, 
As  after  min  entendement 
None  other  wisd  negligent 
Than  I  you  say  have  I  nought  be. 
Forthy  pur  saintd  charit£ 
Tell    me,    my    fader,    what   you 

semeth." — 
"  In  good  feith,  sone,  wel  me 

quemeth, 

That  thou  thy  self  hast  thus  acquit 
Toward  this  Vice  in  which  no  wit 
Abid£  may,  for  in  an  houre 
He  lest  2  all  that  he  may  laboure 
The  longe"  yere,  so  that  men  sain 
What  ever  he  doth  it  is  in  vein. 
For  through  the  Slouth  of  Negli 
gence 

There  was  yet  never  such  science 
Ne  vertue  which  was  bodely, 
That  nis  destruied  and  lost  therby. 
Ensample  that  it  hath  be  so, 
In  boke  I  findd  write  also. 

Debits,  which  is  thesonne  hote, 
That  shineth  upon  erthd  hote 
And  causeth  every  lives  helth, 
He  hadde  a  sone  in  all  his  welth, 
Which  Pheton  hight,  and  he  de- 

sireth 

And  with  his  moder  he  conspireth, 
The  which  was  clepdd  Clemene, 
For  helpe  and  counseil,  so  that  he 

1  Not,  know  not.  -  Lest,  lost. 


His  faders  carte  l  ledd  might 
Upon  the  faire"  daies  light. 
And  for  this  thing  they  bothe"  praide 
Unto  the  fader,  and  he  saide, 
He  wolde  wel,  but  forth  with  all 
Thre  points  he  bad  in  speciall 
Unto  his  sone  in  alle"  wise, 
That  he  him  shulde  wel  avise 
And  take  it  as  by  wey  of  lore. 
First  was,  that  he  his  hors  to  sore 
Ne  prike;  and  over  that  he  tolde, 
That  he  the  reines  fastd  holde; 
And  also  that  he  be  right  ware 
In  what  maner  he  lede  his  chare, 
That  he  mistake  nought  his  gate, 
But  upon  avisement  algate 
He  shulde  bere  a  siker  eye, 
That  he  to  lowe  ne  to  high 
His  carte"  drive  at  any  thro  we, 
Wherof  that  he  might  overthrowe. 
And  thus  by  Phebus  ordenaunce 
Toke  Pheton  into  governaunce 
The  sonnes  carte,  which  he  ladde. 
But  he  such  veine  glorie  hadde 
Of  that  he  was  set  upon  high, 
That  he  his  own  estate  ne  sigh 
Through  negligence,  and  toke  none 

hede. 

So  might  he  wel  nought  longe  spede. 
For  he  the  hors  withouten  lawe 
The  carte"  let  aboute  drawe 
Where  as  hem  liketh  wantonly, 
That  attd  laste  sodeinly, 
For  he  no  reson  wolde  knowe, 
This  firy  cart  he  drove  to  lowe 
And  fireth  all  the  worlde  aboute; 
Wherof  they  weren  all  in  double, 
And  to  the  god  for  helpe"  criden 
Of  suche  unhappes  as  betiden. 
Phebus,  which  sigh  the  negligence, 
How  Pheton  ayein  his  defence  - 
His  chare  hath  drive  outeof  the  wey 
Ordeigneth  that  he  fel  awey 

1  Carte,  chariot. 

'-  Defence,  forbidding. 


i88 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Out  of  the  cart  into  the  flood 
And  dreinte.     Lo  now,  how  it  stood 
With  him,  that  was  so  negligent, 
That  fro  the  highe  firmament, 
For  that  he  wold£  go  to  lowe, 
He  was  anone  down  overthrowe. 
In  high  estate  it  is  a  Vice 
To  go  to  lowe,  and  in  service 
It  greveth  for  to  go  to  high, 
Wherof  a  tale  in  poesie 

§f  fittfce,  how  whilom  Dedalus 
Whiche  hadde  a  sone  and  Icharus 
He  hight,  and  though  hem  thoughte 

lothe 

In  such  prison  they  weren  bothe 
With  Minotaurus,  that  aboute 
They  mighten   no   where   wenden 

oute. 

So  they  begonne  for  to  shape 
How  they  the  prison  might  escape. 
This  Dedalus,  which  fro  his  youthe 
Was  taught  and  many  crafte's  couth  e, 
Of  fethers  and  of  other  thinges 
Hath  made  to  flee  diverse  winges 
For  him  and  for  his  sone  also  ; 
To  whome  he  yaf  in  charge  tho 
And  bad  him  thenke  therupon, 
How  that  his  winges  ben  set  on 
With  wex,  and  if  he  toke  his  flight 
To  high,  all  sodeinlich  he  might 
Make  it  to  melte*  with  the  sonne. 
And  thus  they  have  her  flight  be 
gonne 

Out  of  the  prison  faire  and  softe. 
And  whan  they  weren  both  alofte, 
This  Icharus  began  to  mounte 
And  of  the  counseil  none  acompte 
He  settd  whiche  his  fader  taught, 
Til  that  the  sonne  his  winge"s  caught, 
Wherof  it  malt,  and  fro  the  hight 
Withouten  helpe  of  any  flight 
He  fell  to  his  destruction. 
And  lich  to  that  condition 
There  fallen  ofte  times  fele 
For  lacke  of  sovernaunce  in  wele 


Als  wel  in  love  as  other  wey." — 

"  Now  god6  fader,  I  you  prey, 
If  there  be  more  in  this  matere 
Of  Slouthe",  that  I  might  it  here."- 

"  My  sone,  as  for  thy  diligence, 
Whiche  every  mannes  conscience 
By  reson  shulde'  reule  and  kepe, 
If  that  thee  list  to  take  kepe, 
I  wol  thee  tell  aboven  alle, 
In  whom  no  vertu  may  befalle, 
Whiche  yiveth  unto  the  Vices  rest 
And  is  of  Slouthe  the  slowest. 

Jltttong  these  other  of  Slouthes 

kinde, 

Whiche  all£  labour  set  behinde, 
And  hateth  alle  besinesse, 
There  is  yet  one,  whiche  Idelnesse 
Is  cleped,  and  is  the  norice 
In  manne"s  kinde  of  every  Vice, 
Which  secheth  esds  many  folde. 
In  winter  doth  he  nought  for  colde ; 
In  somer  may  he  nought  for  hete  ; 
So  wether  that  he  frese  or  swete, 
Or  be  he  in,  or  be  he  oute, 
He  woll  ben  idel  all  aboute, 
But  if  he  plei£  ought  at  dees. 
For  who  as  ever  tak£  fees 
And  thenketh  worship  to  deserve, 
There  is  no  lord  whome  he  woll  serve 
As  for  to  dwelle  in  his  service, 
But  if  it  were  in  suche  a  wise, 
Of  that  he  seeth  par  aventure, 
That  by  lordship  and  coverture 
He  may  the  mord  stonde'  stille 
And  use  his  Idelnesse  at  wille. 
For  he  ne  woll  no  travail  take 
To  rid£  for  his  ladies  sake, 
But  liveth  all  upon  his  wisshes, 
And  as  a  cat  wold  et£  fisshes 
Withoute  weting  of  his  cles, 
So  wolde  he  do,  but  netheles 
He  faileth  ofte  of  that  he  wolde. 

"  My  sone,  if  thou  of  suche  a  molde 
Art  made,  now  tell  me  plein  thy 
shrift."— 


BOOK  IV.-SLOTH. 


189 


"  Nay  fader,  god  I  yive  a  yift, 
That  toward  Love,  as  by  my  wit 
All  idel  was  I  never  yit, 
Ne  never  shall,  while  I  may  go."- 

"  Now,  sone',  telle'  me  than  so, 
What  hast  thou  done  of  besiship 
To  Love  and  to  the  ladyship 
Of  herd  which  thy  lady  is  ?  "- 

"  My  fader,  ever  yet  er  this 
In  every  place,  in  every  stede, 
What  so  my  lady  hath  me  bede, 
With  all  min  herte  obedient 
I  have  therto  be  diligent. 
And  if  so  is  that  she  bid  nought, 
What    thing   that    than   into   my 

thought 

Cometh  first,  of  that  I  may  suffise, 
I  bowe  and  profre  my  service. 
Somtime  in  chambre,  somtime  in 

halle, 

Right  so  as  I  se  the  time's  falle, 
And  whan  she  goth  to  here'  masse 
That  timd  shall  nought  overpasse, 
That  I  napproche  her  ladyhede 
In  aunter  if  I  may  her  lede 
Unto  the  chapel  and  ayein, 
Than  is  nought  all  my  wey  in  vein. 
Somdele  I  may  the  better  fare, 
Whan  I,  that  may  nought  fele  her 

bare, 

May  lede  her  clothe'd  in  min  arme. 
But  afterwarde  it  doth  me  harme 
Of  pure  ymaginati6n, 
For  thanne  this  collation 
I  make  unto  my  selven  ofte 
And  say:  'Ha  lord,  how  she  is  softe, 
How  she  is  round,  how  she  is  small, 
Now  woldd  God,  I  hadde  her  all 
Without^  daunger  at  my  wille  ! ' 
'  And  than  I  sike  and  sitte'  stille, 
Of  that  I  se  my  besy  thought 
Is  torne'd  idel  into  nought. 
But  for  all  that  let  I  ne  may, 
Whan  I  se  time  another  day, 
That  I  ne  do  my  besinesse 


Unto  my  ladies  worthinesse. 
For  I  therto  my  wit  aflfaite l 
To  se  the  time's  and  awaite 
What  is  to  done,  and  what  to  leve. 
And  so  whan  time  is,  by  her  leve 
\Vhat  thing  she  bit  me  don,  I  do, 
And  where  she  bit  me  gon,  I  go, 
And  whan  her  list  to  clepe,  I  come. 
Thus  hath  she  fulliche  overcome 
Min  Idelnesse  til  I  sterve, 
So  that  I  mot  her  nedes  serve. 
For  as  men  sain,  nede  hath  no  lawe, 
Thus  mote  I  nedely  to  her  drawe  ; 
I  serve,  I  bowe,  I  loke,  I  loute, 
Min  eye'  folweth  her  aboute. 
What  so  she  wolle  so  woll  I, 
Whan  she  woll  sit,  I  knele'  by, 
And  whan  she  stont,  than  woll  I 

stonde, 
And  whan  she  taketh  her  werk  on 

honde 

Of  weving  or  of  embrouderie, 
Than  can  I  nought  but  muse  and 

prie 

Upon  her  fingers  longe  and  smale. 
And  nowe  I  thenke,and  nowe  I  tale, 
And  nowe  I  singe,  and  nowe  I  sike, 
And  thus  my  contenaunce  I  pike.'2 
And  if  it  falle,  as  for  a  time' 
Her  liketh  nought  abide  by  me 
But  busien  her  on  other  thinges, 
Than  make  I  other  tarienges 
To  drecche  forth  the  longe  day, 
For  me  is  loth  departe  away. 
And  than  I  am  so  simple  of  port, 
That  for  to  feigne'  some  desporte 
I  pleie'  with  her  litel  hound 
Nowe  on   the   bed,  nowe   on  the 

ground, 

Now  with  the  bridde's  in  the  cage, 
For  there  is  none  so  litel  page 
Ne  yet  so  simple  a  chamberere, 
That  I  ne  make  hem  alle  chere, 

1  Affaite,  bring  to  fitness. 
-  Pike,  make  peep. 


190 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


All  for  they  shulde  speke  wele. 
Thus  mow  ye  se  my  besy  whele, 
That  goth  nought  ideliche  aboute. 
And  if  her  list  to  riden  oute 
On  pelrinage  or  other  stede, 
I  come,  though  I  be  nought  bede, 
And  take  her  in  min  arme  alofte 
And  set  her  in  her  sadel  softe 
And  so  forth  lede  her  by  the  bridel, 
For  that  I  woldd  nought  ben  idel. 
And  if  her  list  to  ride  in  chare, 
And  than  I  may  therof  beware, 
Anone  I  shape  me  to  ride 
Right  even  by  the  chares  side. 
And  as  I  may,  I  speke  amonge, 
And  other  while  I  singe  a  songe, 
Whiche  Ovide  in  his  bokes  made, 
And  said  :  '  O  whiche  sorwes  glad, 
O  which  wofull  prosperite 
Belongeth  to  the  proprete 
Of  Love  ?    Who  so  wold  him  serve, 
And  yet  there  fro  may  no  man  swerve, 
That  he  ne  mot  his  lawe  obey.' 
And  thus  I  ride  forth  my  wey 
And  am  right  besy  overall 
With  herte,  and  with  my  body  all, 
As  I  have  saide  you  here  to-fore. 
My  god£  fader  tell  therfore 
Of  Idelnesse  if  I  have  gilt." — 

"  My  sone,  but  thou  telle  wilt 
Ought  elles  than  I  may  now  here, 
Thou  shalt  have  no  penaunc£  here. 
And  nethe'les  a  man  may  se, 
How  now  a  daids  that  there  be 
Full  many  of  such  hertes  slowe, 
That  woll  nought  besien  hem  to 

knowe 

What  thing  Love  is,  til  att£  last, 
That  he  with  strengthe  hem  over 
cast 

That  malgr£  hem  they  mot  obey 
And  done  all  idelship  awey 
To  servd  wel  and  besiliche. 
But,  sone,  thou  art  none  of  sich, 
For  Love*  shall  thee  wel  excuse, 


But  otherwise  if  thou  refuse 
To  love"  thou  might  so  par  cas 
Ben  idel,  as  somtime  was 
A  kinges  doughter  unavised, 
Til  that  Cupide  her  hath  chastised, 
Wherof  thou  shalt  a  tale"  here 
Accordant  unto  this  matere. 
$f  Jlrmctttc  I  rede  thus, 
There  was  a  king  whiche  Herupus 
Was  hote,  and  he  a  lusty  maide 
To  doughter  had,  and  as  men  saide 
Her  nam£  was  Rosiphele', 
Which  tho  was  of  great  renome. 
For  she  was  bothe'  wise  and  faire 
And  shulde'  ben  her  faders  heire. 
But  she  had  o  defaulte  of  Slouthe 
Towardes  Love,  and  that  was  routhe. 
For  so  well  couth£  no  man  say 
Which  mightd  set  her  in  the  way 
Of  Love's  occupation 
Through  none  ymaginacion  ; 
That  scold  woldd  she  nought  knowe. 
And  thus  she  was  one  of  the  slowe 
As  of  suche  hertes  besinesse, 
Till  whanne  Venus  the  goddesse, 
Which  Love's   Court  hath  for    to 

reule, 

Hath  brought  her  into  better  reule 
Forth  with  Cupide,  and  with  his 

might, 

For  they  merveile  of  suche  a  wight, 
Which  tho  was  in  her  lusty  age 
Desireth  not  of  maridge. 
For  he,  that  highe  herte's  loweth, 
With  firydarte's  whiche  he  throweth, 
Cupide,  whiche  of  Love  is  god, 
In  chastismge  hath  made  a  rod 
To  drive  away  her  wantonnesse, 
So  that  within  a  while  I  gesse 
She  had  on  suche  a  chaunce  sporned1 
That  all  her  mod  was  overtorned, 
Which    first    she    had,   of    slowe 

manere. 
For  thus  it  felle,  as  thou  shalt  here. 

1  Sporned,  stumbjed  against. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


191 


Whan  come  was  the  month  of 

May, 

She  woldd  walke  upon  a  day, 
And  that  was  er  the  sonne  arist, 
Of  women  but  a  fewe  it  wist. 
And  forth  she  wentd  prively 
Unto  the  park  was  fastd  by, 
All  softd  walkend  on  the  gras, 
Till  she  came  there  the  laundd1  was, 
Through  which  ther  ran   a  great 

rive  re. 
It   thought   her  faire  and   saidd : 

'Here 

I  woll  abide  under  the  shawe,' 
And  bad  her  women  to  withdrawe 
And  there  she  stood  alond  stille 
To  thenke  what  was  in  her  wille. 
She  sigh  the  swotd  flourds  springe, 
She  herdd  gladdd  foulds  singe, 
She  sigh  the  bestds  in  her  kinde, 
The  buck,  the  doo,  the  hert,  the 

hinde, 

The  maid  go  with  the  femele. 
And  so  began  there  a  quarele 
Betwend  Love  and  her  owne  herte, 
Fro  which  shecouthe  nought  asterte. 
And  as  she  cast  her  eye  aboute, 
She  sigh  clad  in  one  sute  a  route 
Of  ladies,  where  they  comen  ride 
A  longe  under  the  wodds  side. 
On  faire  amblende  hors  they  set, 
That  were  all  whitd,  faire  and  great, 
And  everychond  ride  on  side. 
The  sadels  were  of  suche  a  pride 
With  perle  and  gold  so  well  begone, 
So  richd  sigh  she  never  none. 
In  kirtles  and  in  copds  riche 
They  weren  clothed  alle  aliche, 
Departed  even  of  white  and  blewe 
With  alle  lustds  that  she  knewe 
They  were  embrouded  over  all 
Her  bodies  weren  longe  and  small, 
The  beautd  fair  upon  her 2  face 
It  may  none  erthly  thing  deface, 

1  Launttt,  lawn.  -  firr,  their. 


Corounds  on  her  hede  they  bere 
As  eche  of  hem  a  quend  were, 
That  all  the  golde  of  Cresus  halle 
The  lestd  coronall  of  alle 
Ne  might  have  bought  after  the 

worth. 

Thus  comen  they  riddndd  forth. 
The  kingds  doughter,  which  this 

sigh, 

For  pure  abasshddrewe  her  adrigh l 
And  helde  her  close  under  a  bough 
And  let  hem  passen  stille  inough. 
For  as  her  thought  in  her  avise, 
To  hem  that  weren  of  suche  a  price 
She  was  nought  worthy  to  axen  there 
Fro  whenne  they  come,  or  what 

they  were ; 

But  lever  than  this  worldds  good 
She  wolde   have  wist  how  that  it 

stood 

And  put  her  hede  a  litel  out, 
And  as  she  lokdd  her  aboute, 
She  sigh  comend  under  the  linde 
A  woman  upon  an  hors  behinde. 
The  hors  on  which  she  rode  was 

black, 

All  lene  and  galled  upon  the  back 
And  halted  as  he  were  encloied,2 
Wherof  the  woman  was  annoied. 
Thus  was  the  hors  in  sory  plight, 
But  for  all  that  a  stem*  whit 
Amiddes  in  her  front  she  hadde. 
Her  sadel  eke  was  wonder  badde, 
In  which  the  wofull  woman  sat. 
And  nethdles  there  was  with  that 
A  richd  bridel  for  the  nones 
Of  golde  and  preciousd  stones  ; 
Her  cotd  was  somdele  to-tore, 
About  her  middel  twenty  score 
Of  horsd  halters  and  well  mo 
There  hingen  attd  timd  tho. 
Thus  whan  she  came  the  lady  nigh, 
Than  toke  she  better  hede  and  sigh 

1  Adrigh,  aside. 

2  Encloied,  hurt  with  a  nail  in  shoeing. 


192 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


The  woman  fair  was  of  visage, 
Fresh,  lusty,  yong  and  tendreof  age. 
And  so  this  lady,  there  she  stood, 
Bethought  her  well  and  understood, 
That  this,  which  came  ridende  tho, 
Tidinge's  couthe  telle  of  tho 
Whiche  as  she  sigh  to-fore  ride, 
And  put  her  forth  and  praide  abide 
And  said  :   *  Ha  suster,  let  me  here. 
What  ben  they  that  riddn  now  here 
And  ben  so  richely  arraied  ? ' 
This  woman,  which  came  so  es- 

maied,1 

Answerde  with  full  softe  speche 
And  said :  *  Madame,  I  shall  you 

teche, 

These  are  of  tho,  that  whilom  were 
Servaunts  to  love  and  trouthd  bere 
There  as  they  had  their  hertes  sette. 
Fare  well,  for  I  may  nought  be  lette. 
Madame,  I  go  to  my  service, 
So  must  I  haste  in  alle  wise, 
Forthy  madame,  yif  me  leve. 
I  may  nought  longe  with  you  leve.'  2 

'  Ha,  gode  suster,  yet  I  prey, 
Tell  me,  why  ye  be  so  besey 
And  with  these  halters  thus  begone  ? ' 

*  Madame,  whilom  I  was  one, 
That  to  my  fader  hadde  a  king. 
But  I  was  slowe  and  for  no  thing 
Me  liste  nought  to  Love  obey, 
And  that  I  now  full  sore  abey,3 
For  4  I  whilom  no  love  hadde, 
My  hors  is  now  feble  and  badde 
Aud  all  to-tore  is  min  array, 
And  every  yere  this  fressh£  May 
These  lusty  ladies  ride  aboute, 
And  I  must  nedes  sue  her  route 
In  this  mane'r,  as  ye  now  se 
And  trusse  her  halters  forth  with  me 
And  am  but  as  her  horse"  knave. 

1  Esmaied,  troubled,  biit  possibly  a-Maying, 
for  "esmaier"  meant  also  in  old  French  to 
crown  with  green  leaves. 

*  Leve,  remain.  3  Aley,  pay  for. 

*  for,  because. 


None  other  office  I  ne  have, 
Hemthenketh  I  am  worthy  no  more, 
For  I  was  slowe  in  Loves  lore 
Whan  I  was  able  for  to  lere 
And  wold£  nought  the  tales  here 
Of  hem  that  couthen  Love  teche.' 
'Now tell  me  than,  I  you  beseche, 
Wherof  that  riche  bridel  serveth  ? ' 
With    that    her    chere    away    she 

swerveth 

Andgan  to  wepe  and  thus  she  tolde : 
'  This  bridel,  which  ye  now  beholde, 
So  riche  upon  min  horse  hed  ; 
Madame,  afore  er  I  was  dede, 
Whan  I  was  in  my  lusty  life, 
There  fell  into  min  hert  a  strife 
Of  love,  which  me  overcome, 
So  that  therafter  hede  I  nome 
And  thought  I  wolde  love  a  knight ; 
That  laste  well  a  fourtenight, 
For  it  no  lenger  mighte  laste, 
So  nigh  my  life  was  atte  laste. 
But  nowe  alas  to  late  ware 
That  I  ne  had  him  loved  ere, 
For  deth  cam  so  in  haste  by  me, 
Er  I  therto  had  any  time, 
That  it  ne  mighte  ben  acheved. 
But  for  all  that  I  am  releved 
Of  that  my  will  was  good  therto 
That  Love  suffreth  it  be  so 
That  I  shall  such  a  bridel  were. 
Nowe  have  ye  herd  all  min  answere, 
To  God,  madame,  I  you  betake,1 
And  warneth  alle  for  my  sake, 
Of  Love  that  they  be  nought  idel, 
Andbidhemthenke  upon  my  bridel.' 
And  with  that  worde  all  sodeinly 
She  passeth  as  it  were  a  skie  a 
All  clene  out  of  this  ladies  sight. 
And  tho  for  fere  her  herte  aflight 
And  saide  to  her  self  :  «  Helas  ! 
I  am  right  in  the  same  cas. 
But  if  I  live  after  this  day, 
I  shall  amende  it  if  I  may.' 

1  Betake,  entrust,  commend.       2  S&ie,  shadow. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


And  thus  homwdrd  this  lady  went 
And  chaunged  all  her  first  entent 
Within  her  herte,  and  gan  to  swere 
That  she  no  halters  woldd  here. 
"Lo  sone,  here  might  thou  taken 

hede, 

How  Idelnesse  is  for  to  drede, 
Nameliche  of  love,  as  I  have  write. 
Fo  thou  might  understonde   and 

wite, 

Among  the  gentil  nacidn 
Love  is  an  occupation 
Which  for  to  kepe  his  luste's  save 
Shold  every  gentil  herte'  have  ; 
For  as  the  lady  was  chastised, 
Right  so  the  knight  may  ben  avised 
Which  idel  is  and  woll  nought  serve 
To  Love,  he  may  par  cas  deserve 
A  greater  peine  than  she  hadde, 
Whan  she  aboute  with  her  ladde 
The  horse'  halters  ;  and  forthy 
Good  is  to  be  ware  therby. 
But  for  to  loke  aboven  alle 
These  maidenes  how  so  it  falle, 
They  shulden  take  ensample  of  this, 
Whiche  I  have  tolde,  for  soth  it  is. 
And  thilke  Love  is  well  at  ese, 
Which  set  is  upon  maridge, 
For  that  dare  shewen  the  visage 
In  alle  places  openly. 
A  great  merveile  it  is  forthy, 
How  that  a  maiden  wolde'  lette 
That  she  her  time'  ne  besette 
To  haste  unto  that  like'  feste, 
Wherof  the  Love  is  all  honeste. 
Men  may  recover  loss  of  good, 
But  so  wise  man  yet  never  stood 
Which  may  recover  time  ilore. 
So  may  a  maiden  well  therfore 
Ensample  take,  of  that  she  straun- 

geth 
As  thou  hast  understonde  above." — 

"  My  fader,  as  toward  the  love 
Of  maidens  for  to  telle'  trouthe, 
Ye  have*  thilkd  Vice  of  Slouthe 


Me  thenketh  right  wonder  wel  de 
clared, 
That  ye  the  women  have  nought 

spared 

Of  hem  that  tarien  so  behinde. 
But  yet  it  falleth  in  my  minde 
Toward  the  men,  how  that  ye  speke 
Of  hem  that  woll  no  travail  seke 
In  cause  of  Love,  upon  deserte, 
To  speke  in  wordes  so  coverte 
I  not  what  travail  that  ye  ment." — 
"  My  sone,  and  after  min  entent 
I  woll  the  telle  what  I  thought, 
How  whilom  men  her  loves  bought 
Through  great  travaile  in  straunge' 

londes, 
Where  that  they  wroughten  with 

her  hondes 

Of  armes  many  a  worthy  dede 
In  sondry  place,  as  men  may  rede. 
"  That  every  love  of  pure  kinde 
Is  first  forth  drawd,  well  I  finde. 
But  nethe'less  yet  over  this 
Deserte  doth  so,  that  it  is 
The  rather  had  in  many  place. 
Forthy  who  secheth  Love's  grace 
Where  that   these  worthy  women 

are, 

He  may  nought  than  him  serve*  spare 
Upon  his  travail  for  to  serve 
Wherof  that   he   may  thank  de 
serve; 

Where  as  these  men  of  arme's  be 
Sometime  over  the  Crete'  See, 
So  that  by  londe  and  eke  by  ship 
He  mot  travail^  for  worship 
And  make*  many  hastif  rodes, 
Somtime    in    Pruse,    somtime    in 

Rodes, 

And  some  time  into  Tartarie, 
So  that  these  heralds  on  him"  crie : 
'Vailant,    vailant,    lo,    where    he 

goth  ! ' 

And  than  he  yiveth  hem  golde  and 
cloth, 

N 


194 


CONFESSIO  AMANT1S. 


So  that  his  fame  mighte  springe 
And  to  his  ladies  ere  bringe 
Some  tiding  of  his  worthinesse  ; 
So  that  she  might  of  his  prowesse 
Of  that  she  herde  men  recorde 
The  better  unto  his  love  accorde 
And  daunger  put  out  of  her  mood, 
Whan  alle  men  recorden  good, 
And  that  she  wot  well  for  her  sake 
That  he  no  travail  woll  forsake. 

"  Mysone,ofthistravailelmene; 
Now  shrif  the,  for  it  shall  be  sene, 
If  thou  art  idel  in  this  cas." — 
"  My  fader  ye,  and  ever  was 
For  as  me  thenketh  truely, 
That  every  man  doth  more  than  I 
As  of  this  point,  and  if  so  is, 
That  I  have  ought  so  done  er  this, 
It  is  so  litel  of  accompt 
As  who  saith  it  may  nought  amount 
To  winne  of  love  his  lusty  yifte. 
For  this  I  telle  you  in  shrifte, 
That  me  were  lever  her  love  winne 
Than  Kaire  and  all  that  is  therinne. 
And  for  to  sleen  the  hethen  alle 
I    not1    what  good  there  mighte 

falle, 
So  mochel  blood  though  ther  be 

shad. 

This  finde  I  writen,  how  Crist  bad 
That  no  man  other  shulde  slee. 
What  shulde  I  winne  over  the  see, 
If  I  my  lady  lost  at  home  ? 
But  passe  they  the  sake  fome 
To  whom  Crist  bad  they  shulden 

preche 

To  all  the  world  and  his  feith  teche. 
But  now  they  rucken  2  in  her  nest 
And  resten  as  hem  liketh  best 
In  all  the  swetenesse  of  delices. 
Thus  they  defenden  3  us  the  Vices 
And  sit  hem  selven  all  amidde  ; 
To  sleen  and  fighten  they  us  bidde 

1  Not,  know  not.  2  Ruckett,  squat. 

3  Defender,)  forbid. 


Hem  whom  they  shuld,  as  the  boke 

saith, 

Converten  unto  Cristes  feith. 
But  herof  have  I  great  merveile, 
How  they  wol  bidde  me  traveile. 
A  Sarazin  if  I  slee  shall, 
I  slee  the  soule  forth  withall, 
And  that  was  never  Cristes  lore. 
But  now  Ho 1  there,  I  say  no  more. 
But  I  woll  speke  upon  my  shrifte 
And  to  Cupide  I  make  a  yifte, 
That  who  as  ever  pris  deserve 
Of  armes,  I  wol  Love  serve, 
As  though  I  shuld  hem  bothe  kepe, 
Als  well  yet  wolde  I  take  kepe, 
Whan  it  were  time  to  abide 
And  for  to  travaile  and  to  ride, 
For  how  as  ever  a  man  laboure, 
Cupide  appointed  hath  his  houre. 
.      "  For  I  have  herde  tell  also, 
Achilles  left  his  armes  so 
Both  of  him  self  and  of  his  men 
At  Troie  for  Polixenen 
Upon  her  love  whan  he  felle, 
That  for  no  chaunce  that  befelle 
Among  the  Grekes  or  up  or  down 
He  wolde  nought  ayein  the  town 
Ben  armed,  for  the  love  of  her. 
And  so  me  thenketh,  leve  sir, 
A  man  of  armes  may  him  reste 
Somtime  in  hope  for  the  beste, 
If  he  may  finde  a  werre  ner ; 
What  shulde  I  thanne  go  so  fer 
In  straunge"  londes  many  a  mile 
To  ride,  and  lese  at  home  there 

while 

My  love  ?  it  were  a  short  beyete  2 
To  winne  chaffe  and  lese  whete. 
But  if  my  lady  bidde  wolde, 
That  I  for  her  love  sholde 
Travail,  me  thenketh  truely, 
I  mighte  flee  through  out  the  sky 
And  go  through  out  the  depe  see, 

1  Ho  !  was  the  cry  for  stopping  in  the  chase. 

2  Beyete,  gain. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


'95 


For  all  ne  sctte  I  at  a  stre,1 
What  thank  that  I  might  cites  gcte. 
What  helpeth  a  man  have  mete, 
Where  drinke  lacketh  on  theborde, 
What  helpeth  any  mannes  worde 
To  say  howe  I  travaite  faste, 
Where  as  me  faileth  and  laste 
That  thing  whiche  I  travaile  fore. 
O,  in  good  time*  were  he  bore, 
That  might  atteigne  suche  a  mede. 
But  certes  if  I  mightd  spede 
With  any  maner  besinesse 
Of  worldds  travail,  than  I  gesse 
There  shulde  me  none  idelship 
Departen  from  her  ladyship. 
But  this  I  se  on  daies  now, 
The  blinde  god,  I  wot  nought  how, 
Cupido,  which  of  love  is  lorde, 
He  set  the  thinges  in  discorde, 
That  they  that  lest  to  love  entende 
Full  ofte  hewoll  hem  yive  and  sende 
Most  of  his  grace,  and  thus  I  finde, 
That  he  that  sholde  go  behinde, 
Goth  many  a  time  fer  to-fore. 
Sovvote  I  nought  right  well  therfore, 
On  whether  bord  that  I  shall  saile. 
Thus  can  I  nought  myself  counseile, 
But  all  I  set  ou  aventure 
And  am,  as  who  saith,  out  of  cure 
For  ought  that  I  can  say  or  do ; 
For  evermore  I  finde  it  so, 
The  more  besinesse  I  lay, 
The  mord  that  I  knele  and  pray 
With  godd  vvordes  and  with  softe, 
The  more  I  am  refusdd  ofte 
With  besinesse  and  may  nought 

winne, 

And  in  goodfeith  that  is  great  sinne. 
For  I  may  say  of  dede  and  thought, 
That  idel  man  have  I  be  nought, 
For  how  as  ever  I  be  deslaicd. 
Yet  evermore  I  have  assaied. 
But  though  my  besinesse'  laste, 
All  is  but  idel  atte  laste, 

1  Stre,  straw. 


For  whan  theffect  is  Idelnesse, 
I  not  what  thing  is  besinesse. 
Say  what  availeth  all  the  dede, 
Which  nothing  helpeth  atte  nede? 
For  the  Fortune  of  every  fame 
Shall  of  his  endd  bere  a  name. 
And  thus  for  ought  is  yet  befalle, 
An  idel  man  I  woll  me  callc 
As  after  min  entenddment. 
But  upon  your  amenddment, 
Min  holy  fader,  as  you  semeth 
My  reson  and  my  cause  demeth." — 
"  My  sone,  I  have  herde  of  thy 

matere, 
Of   that    thou    hast  thee  shriven 

here. 

And  for  to  speke  of  idel  fare 
Me  semeth  that  thou  tharst1  nought 

care, 
But  only  that  thou  might  nought 

spede. 

And  therof,  sone,  I  woll  thee  rede, 
Abide  and  haste  nought  to  faste, 
Thy  dedes  ben  every  day  to  caste, 
Thou    nost,2  what   chauncd    shall 

betide. 

Better  is  to  waite  upon  the  tide 
Than    rowe    ayein     the    stremes 

stronge. 
For  though  so  be  thee  thenketh 

longe, 

Par  cas  the  revolucidn 
Of  heven  and  thy  condicion 
Ne  be  nought  yet  of  one  accorde. 
But  I  dare  make"  this  recorde 
To  Venus,  whose  prest  that  I  am, 
That  sithen  that  I  hider  cam 
To  here,  as  she  me  bad,  thy  life, 
Wherof  thou  eltes  be  giltife, 
Thou  might  herof  thy  conscience 
Excuse  and  of  great  diligence, 
Which   thou  to  love  hast  so  dis- 

pended, 
Thou  oughtest  wcl  to  be  comended. 

1  Tharst,  necdst.      2  xost,  knowest  not. 


196 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  if  so  be  that  there  ought  faile, 
Of  that  thou  slouthest  to  travaile 
In  armes,  for  to  ben  absent,  « 
And  for  thou  makest  an  argument 
Of  that  thou  saidest  here  above, 
How  Achilles  through  strength  of 

love 

His  armes  leftd  for  a  thro  we, 
Thou  shalt  an  other  tale  knowe, 
Whiche  is  contrarie,  as  thou  shalt 

wite. 

For  this  a  man  may  finde'  write, 
Whan    that   knighthode   shall  be 

werred, 

Lust  may  nought  thanne  be  pre 
ferred, 

The  bed  mot  thanne  be  forsake 
And  shieldand  spere  onhonde  take, 
Which  thing  shall  make  hem  after 

glad,   " 
Whan   they   be   worthy    knightes 

made, 

Wherof,  so  as  it  cometh  to  honde, 
A  tale  thou  shalt  understonde, 
How  that  a  knight  shall  armes  sue, 
And  for  the  while  his  ese  eschue. 

"^!(pon  Imigijff)o6e  I  rede  thus, 
How  whilom  whan  the  king  Nau- 

plus, 

The  fader  of  Palamides, 
Came  for  to  preien  Ulixes 
With  other  Gregois  eke  also, 
That  he  with  hem  to  Troie  go, 
Where  that  the  siege  shulde  be, 
Anone  upon  Penelope, 
His  wife,  whom  that  he  loveth  hote, 
Thenkend,  wolde  hem  nought  be- 

hote. 

But  he  shope  than  a  wonder  wile 
How  that  he  shulde  hem  best  be- 

guile, 

So  that  he  mighte  dwelle  stille 
At  home  and  weld  his  love  at  wille. 
Wherof  erly  the  morwe  day 
Out  of  his  bed  where  that  he  lay 


Whan  he  was  up,  he  gan  to  fare 
Into  the  felde  and  loke  and  stare 
As  he  which  feigneth  to  be  wode,1 
He  toke  a  plough  where  that  it  stood, 
Wherin  anone  in  stede  of  oxes 
He  let  do  yoken  grete  foxes, 
And  with  great  saltthelondehesewe. 
But  Nauplus,  which  the  cause  knewe, 
Ayeinthe  sleighte  which  he  feigneth 
Another  sleight  anone  ordeigneth. 
And  fell  that  time  Ulixes  hadde 
A  childe  to  sone,  and  Nauplusradde 
How  men  that  sone  take  sholde 
And  setten  him  upon  the  molde, 
Where  that  his  fader  held  the  plough 
Inthilke  furgh  which  he  thodrough. 
For  in  such  wise  he  thought  assay 
Howe  it  Ulixes  shulde  pay, 
If  that  he  were  wode  or  none. 
The  knightes  for  this  child  forth 

gone, 

Telemacus  anone  was  fette 
To-fore  the  plough  and  even  sette, 
Where  that  his  fader  shulde  drive. 
But  whan  he  sigh  his  childe  as  blive2 
He  drof  the  plough  out  of  the  way, 
And  Nauplus  tho  began  to  say 
And  hath  half  in  a  jape  cried: 
<  O  Ulixes,  thou  art  aspied, 
What  is  all  this  thou  woldest  mene? 
For  openlich  it  is  now  sene 
That  thou  hast  feigned  all  this  thing, 
Which  is  great  shame  to  a  king 
Whan  that  for  lust  of  any  slouthe 
Thou  wolt  in  a  quarel  of  trouthe 
Of  armes  thilke  honour  forsake 
And  dwelle  at  home  for  loves  sake. 
For  better  it  were  honour  to  winne 
Than  love  which  likinge  is  inne. 
Forthy^  take  worship  on  honde 
And  elles  thou  shalt  understonde 
These  other  worthy  kinges  alle 
Of  Grece,  which  unto  thee  calle, 
Towardes  thee  wol  be  right  wroth 

1  Wode,  mad.  2  As  blive,  quickly. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


197 


And  grave*  the  par  chaunct*  both, 
Which  shall  be  to theedouble shame 
Most  for  the  hindringe  of  thy  name, 
That  thou  for  slouthe  of  any  love 
Shalt  so  thy  luste's  set  above 
And  leve  of  armes  the  knighthode, 
Whiche  is  the  prise  of  thy  manhodc 
And  oughtd  first  to  be  desired.' 
"But  he,  which  had  his  herte' 

fired, 

Upon  his  wife,  whan  he  this  herd, 
Nought  o1  word  there  ayein  an- 

swerd, 

But  torneth  home  halving  ashamed 
And  hath  within  him  self  so  tamed 
His  herte',  that  all  the  sotie 
Of  love"  for  chi valeric 
He  lefte,  and  be  him  leef  or  loth 
To  Troie'  with  hem  forth  he  goth 
That  he  him  mightd  nought  excuse. 
Thus  stant  it,  if  a  knight  refuse 
The  lust  of  arme"s  to  travaile  ; 
There  may  no  worlde's  ese  availe, 
But  if  worship^  be  with  all. 
And  that  hath  shewed  overall, 
For  it  sit  wel  in  alld  wise 
A  knight  to  ben  of  high  emprise 
And  putten  alle  drede  away, 
For  in  this  wise  I  have  herd  say, 
"  tyfye  worlds  &nigf)t  Prothe- 

salay 

On  his  passdge  where  he  lay 
Toward^s  Troie'  thilke"  siege 
She  which  was  all  his  owne*  liege 
Laodomie  his  lusty  wife, 
Which  for  his  love*  was  pensife 
As  he  whiche  all  her  herte'  hadde, 
Upon  a  thing  wherof  she  dradde 
A  letter  for  to  make  him  dwelle 
Fro  Troie  send  him,  thus  to  telle, 
How  she  hath  axe"d  of  the  wise 
Touchend  of  him  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  they  have  done  her  under- 

stonde, 

1  O,  one. 


Towarde*s  other  how  so  it  stonde, 
The  destine'  it  hath  so  shape, 
That  he  shall  nought  the  deth  escape 
In  cas  that  he  arrive  at  Troy. 
Forthy  as  to  her  worlde's  joy 
With  all  her  hertd  she  him  preide 
And  many  another  cause  alleide, 
That  he  with  her  at  home  abide. 
But  he  hath  cast  her  letter  aside 
As  he  which  tho  no  maner  hede 
Toke  of  her  wommanische  drede 
And  forth  he  goth,  as  nought  ne 

were, 

To  Troy,  and  was  the  firstd  there 
Which  londeth  and  toke  arrivaile, 
For  him  was  lever  in  the  bataile 
He  saith  to  deien  as  a  knight 
Than  for  to  live  in  all  his  might 
And  be  reproved  of  his  name. 
Lo,  thus  upon  the  worlde's  fame 
Knighthode  hath  ever  yet  beset, 
Which  with  no  cowardis  is  let. 

"  g)f  fcmg<£  gaul  also  I  finde, 
Whan  Samuel  out  of  his  kinde, 
Through  that  the  Phitonesse  hath 

lered, 

In  Samarie'  was  arered1 
Long  time  after  that  he  was  dede. 
The  kingd  Saul  him  axeth  rede, 
If  that  he  shall  go  fight  or  none. 
And  Samuel  him  said  anone  : 
The  firste  day  of  the  bataile 
Thou  shalt  be  slain  withoute  faile 
And  Jonathas  thy  sone  also. 
But  how  as  ever  it  felle  so, 
This  worthy  knight  of  his  cordge 
Hath  undertake  the  vidge 
And  wolde  nought  his  knighthode 

let2 

For  no  perfll  he  couthe*  set ; 
Wherof  that  bothe  his  sone  and  he 
Upon  the  mounte  of  Gelbod 
Assemblen  with  her  enemies. 
For  they  knighthode  of  such  a  pris 

1  Arered,  raised  up.  3  Lft,  hinder. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


By  olde  daies  thanne  helden, 
That  they  none  other  thing  be- 

helden. 

And  thus  the  fader  for  worship 
Forth  with  his  sone  of  felaship 
Through  lust  of  armes  weren  dede 
As  men  may  in  the  bible  rede, 
They  whos  knighthode  is  yet  in 

mmde 
And  shall  be  to  the  worldes  ende. 

"  And  for  to  loken  evermore 
It  hath  and  shall  ben  evermore, 
That  of  knighthode  the  prowesse 
Is  grounded  upon  hardiesse 
Of  him  that  dare  wel  undertake. 
And  who  that  wolde  ensample  take 
Upon  the  forme  of  knightes  lawe, 
How  that  Achilles  was  forth  drawe 
With  Chiro,  which  Centaurus  hight. 
Of  many  a  wonder  here  he  might. 
For  it  stood  thilke  time  thus, 
That  this  Chiro  this  Centaurus 
Within  a  large  wildernesse, 
Where  was  Ie6n  and  leonesse, 
The  lepard  and  the  tigre  also 
With  hert  and  hinde,  buk  and  doo, 
Had  his  dwelling  as  tho  befell 
O.f  Peleon  upon  the  hill, 
Wherof  was  thanne  mochel  speche, 
There  hath  Chiro  this  child  to  teche 
What  time  he  was  of  twelve  yere 

age. 

Wherfore  to  maken  his  corage 
The  more  hardy  by  other  wey 
In  the  fore'st  to  hunt  and  pley, 
Whan  that  Achilles  walke  wolde 
Centaurus  bad  that  he  ne  sholde 
After  no  beste  make  his  chas 
Which  wolde  fleen  out  of  his  place 
As  buk  and  doo  and  hert  andhinde, 
With  which  he  may  no  werre'  finde. 
Buttho  thatwolden  himwithstonde, 
There  shuld  he  with  his  dart  on 

honde 
Upon  the  tigre  and  the  ledn 


Purchace  and  make  his  venison,1 
As  to  a  knight  is  accordaunt. 
And  therupon  a  covenaunt 
This  Chiro  with  Achilles  set, 
That  every  day  withouten  let 
He  shulde  such  a  cruel  beste 
Or  sle  or  wounden  atte  leste, 
So  that  he  might  a  token  bring 
Of  blood  upon  his  home  coming. 
And  thus  of  that  Chiro  him  taught 
Achilles  such  an  herte  caught, 
That  he  no  more  a  leon  drad 
Whan  he  his  dart  on  honde  had 
Than  if  a  leon  were  an  asse. 
And  that  hath  made  him  for  to  passe 
All  other  knightes  of  his  dede, 
Whan  it  cam  to  the  grete  nede, 
As  it  was  afterward  wel  knowe. 

"  Lo,  thus,  my  sone,  thou  might 

knowe 

That  the  corage  of  hardiesse 
Is  of  knighthode  the  prowesse, 
Which  is  to  Love  suftisaunt 
Aboven  all  the  remenaunt 
That  unto  Loves  Court  pursue. 
But  who  that  wol  no  Slouth  eschue 
Upon  knighthode  and  nought  tra- 

vaile 

I  not  what  love  him  shuld  availe, 
But  every  labour  axeth  why 
Of  some  reward,  wherof  that  I 
Ensamples  couthe  tel  inough 
Of  hem  that  toward  love  drough 
By  olde  daies,  as  they  shulde.1' — 

"  My     fader,     therof     here     I 
wolde."— 

"  My  sone,  it  is  wel  resonable 
In  place  which  is  honourable 
If  that- a  man  his  herte  sette, 
That  than  he  for  no  Slouthe  lette 
To  do  what  longeth  to  manhede. 
For  if  thou  wolt  the  bokes  rede 
Of  Launcelot  and  other  mo, 
Theremight  thou  seen  howit  was  tho 

1  Venison,  hunted  game. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


199 


Of  arme's,  for  they  wold  atteigne 
To  Lovd  which  withouten  peine 
May  nought  be  get  of  Idelnesse. 
And  that  I  take*  to  witne'sse 
An  old  cronique  in  special], 
The  whiche  into  memoriall 
Is  write*,  for  his  loves  sake 
How  that   a   knight  shal  under 
take. 

Quorums  a  lung,  which  Oenes 
Was  hoten  and  he  under  pees 
Held.Calidoine  in  his  empire 
And  had  a  doughter  Deianire  • 
Men  wist  in  thilk^  time  none 
So  fair  a  wight  as  she  was  one. 
And  as  she  was  a  lusty  wight, 
Right  so  was  than  a  noble  knight, 
To  whom  Mercuric  fader  was. 
This  knight  the  two  pillars  of 'bras, 
The  whichd  yet  a  man  may  finde, 
Set  up  in  the  desert  of  Ynde, 
That  was  the  worthy  Hercules, 
Whos  name  shall  be  end&es 
For  the  merveiles  which  he  wrought. 
This  Hercules  the  love*  sought 
Of  Deianire,  and  of  his  thing 
Unto  her  fader  which  was  king 
He  spake  touche'nd  of  maridge. 
The  king  knowe'nd  his  high  ligndge 
And  drad  also  his  mightes  sterne 
To   him   ne   durst    his    doughter 

werne 1 

And  nethdles,  this  he  him  saide, 
How  Achelous,  er  he,  first  preide 
To  wedden  her,  and  in  accorde 
They  stood,  as  it  was  of  recorde. 
But  for  all  that  this  he  him  graunt- 

eth, 
That   which    of   hem   that   other 

daunteth 

In  arme's,  him  she  shuldd  take, 
And  that  the  king  hath  undertake. 
This  Achelous  was  a  geaunt, 
A  subtil  man,  a  deceivaunt, 

1  Wernc,  refuse. 


Which  through  magique  and  sor- 

cerie 

Couth  all  the  worlde  of  trecherie. 
And  whan  that  he  this  tale*  herde, 
How  upon  that  the  king  answerde, 
With  Hercules  he  muste'  feight, 
He  trusteth  nought  upon  his  sleight 
Al  onely,  whan  it  cometh  to  nede; 
But  that  which  voideth  alte  drede 
And  every  noble  hertd  stereth, 
The  love*  that  no  life  forbereth 
For  his  lad^  whom  he  desireth, 
With  hardiesse  his  herte  fireth. 
And  send  him  word  withoute  faile, 
That  he  woll  takd  the  bataile. 
They  setten  day,  they  chosen  felde, 
The  knightds  covered  under  shelde 
To-gider  come  at  time*  sette 
And  eche  one  is  with  other  mette. 
It  fel  they  foughten  both  on  foot, 
There  was  no  stone,  there  was  no 

root, 

Whiche  mightd  letten  hem  the  wey, 
But  all  was  voide  and  take  awey. 
They  smiten  stroke's  but  a  fewe, 
For  Hercules,  which  wolde  shewe 
His  grete  strengthe  as  for  the  nones, 
He  stert  upon  him  all  at  ones 
And    caught    him    in    his    armes 

stronge. 
This  geaunt  wote  he  may  nought 

longe 

Endure  under  so  harde  bondes, 
And   thought  he  wold  out  of  his 

hondes 

By  sleight  in  some  mane'r  escape. 
And  as  he  couthe  him  self  forshape, 
In  likenesse  of  an  adder  he  slipte 
Out   of   his  honde   and  forth   he 

skipte; 

And  efte,  as  he  that  fighte'  wolle, 
He  torneth  him  into  a  bolle 
And  gan  to  belwe  in  suche  a  soune, 
As  though  the  world  shuld  al  go 

doune. 


200 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  grounde  he  sporneth  and  he 

traunceth, 

His  large  homes  he  avaunceth 
And    cast    hem    here    and    there 

aboute. 
But  he  which  stant   of  hem   no 

doubte 

Awaiteth  wel  whan  that  he  cam 
And  him  by  bothe  homes  nam 
And  all  at  ones  he  him  caste 
Unto  the  grounde  and   held  him 

faste, 

That  he  ne  mighte  with  no  sleight 
Out  of  his  hond  get  upon  height, 
Till  he  was  overcome  and  yolde, 
And  Hercules  hath  what  he  wolde. 
The  kinge  him  graunteth  to  fulfille 
His  axing  at  his  owne  wille ; 
And  she,for  whom  he  hadde  served, 
Her  thought  he  hath  her  wel  de 
served. 

"  §neas  eke  within  Itaile 
Ne  had  he  wonne  the  bataile 
And  done  his  might  so  besily 
Ayein  king  Turne  his  enemy, 
He  hadde  nought  Lavine'  wonne, 
But  for  he  hath  him  over  ronne 
And  gete  his  pris,  he  gat  her  love. 
"  By  these  ensamples  here  above 
Lo,  now,  my  sone,  as  I  have  told, 
Thou  might  wel  se,  who  that  is  bold 
And  bar  travaile  and  undertake 
The  cause  of  Love,  he  shall  be  take 
The  rather  unto  Loves  grace  ; 
For  comunliche  in  worthy  place 
The  women  loven  worthinesse 
Of  manhode  and  of  gentilesse, 
Forthegentils  ben  most  desired." — 
"!#B  fdber,  but  I  were  enspired 
Through  lore  of  you,  I  wot  no  way 
What  gentilesse  is  for  to  say, 
Wherof  to  telle  I  you  beseche." — 
"  The  ground,  my  sone,  for  to 

seche 
Upon  this  diffinicion 


The  worldes  constitucion 
Hath  set  the  name  of  gentilesse 
Upon  the  fortune  of  richesse, 
Which  of  long  time  is  falle  in  age. 
Than  is  a  man  of  high  lignage 
After  the  forme  as  thou  might  here 
But  no  thing  after  the  matere. 
For  who  that  reson  understond 
Upon  richesse  it  may  nought  stond, 
For  that  is  thing  which  faileth  ofte. 
For  he  that  stant  to  day  alofte 
And  all  the  worlde    hath    in    his 

wones,1 

To  morwe  he  faileth  all  at  ones 
Out  of  richesse  into  pouerte  ; 
So  that  therof  is  no  deserte, 
Which  gentilesse  maketh  abide. 
And  for  to  loke  on  other  side 
How  that  a  gentilman  is  bore, 
Adam,  whiche  alle  was  to-fore 
With  Eve  his  wife,  as  of  hem  two, 
All  was  aliche  gentil  tho  • 
So  that  of  generation, 
To  make  declaration, 
There  may  no  gentilesse  be. 
For  to  the  reson  if  we  se 
Of  mannes  birthe  the  mesure, 
It  is  so  comun  to  nature, 
That  it  yiveth  every  man  aliche, 
As  well  to  the  pouer  as  to  the  riche, 
For  naked  they  ben  bore  bothe ; 
The  lorde  hath  no  more  for  to  clothe 
As  of  him  self  that  ilke  throwe, 
Than  hath  the  pouerest  of  the  rowe. 
And  whan  they  shullen  bothe  passe, 
I  not  of  hem  whiche  hath  the  lasse 
Of  worldes  good,  but  as  of  charge 
The  lorde  is  more  for  to  charge, 
Whan  God  shall  his  accompte  here. 
For  he  hath  had  his  lustes  here. 
But  of  the  body  which  shall  deie, 
All  though  there  be  diverse  wey 
To  deth,  yet  is  there  but  one  ende, 
To  which  that  every  man  shall  wende 

1  Wanes,  dwellings. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


201 


As  well  the  begger  as  the  lorde 
Of  o  l  nature,  of  one  accorde. 
She,  which  our  olde"  moder  is, 
The  erthd  bothe'  that  and  this 
Receiveth  and  alich  devoureth, 
That  she  to  nouther  part  favoureth. 
So  wote  I  nothing  after  kinde, 
Where  I  may  gentilesse'  finde, 
For  lacke  of  vertue  lacketh  grace, 
Wherof  richesse  in  many  place 
Whan  men  best  wene  for  to  stonde 
All  sodeinly  goth  out  of  honde : 
But  vertue  set  in  the  cordge, 
There  may  no  world  be  so  salvdge, 
Which  might  it  take  and  done  away 
Till  whannd  that  the  body  deie ; 
And  than  he  shall  be  riche'd  so, 
That  it  may  faild  nevermo. 
So  that  may  well  be  gentilesse, 
Which  yiveth  so  great  a  sikernesse, 
For  after  the  condition 
Of  resondble  entencion, 
The  which  out  of  the  sould  groweth 
And  the  Vertue  fro  Vice*  knoweth, 
Wherof  a  man  the  Vice  eschueth 
Without^  Slouth,  and  Vertue  sueth, 
That  is  a  verray  gentilman ; 
And  nothing  elles  whiche  he  can 
Ne  which  he  hath,  ne  which  he  may. 
But  for  all  that  yet  now  a  day 
In  Love's  Court  to  taken  hede, 
The    pouer   Vertue    shall   nought 

spede, 

Where  that  the  riche  Vice'  woweth. 
For  selde  it  is,  that  Love  alloweth 
The  gentil  man  withouten  good, 
Though  his  condition  be  good. 
But  if  a  man  of  bothe  two 
Be  riche  and  vertuous  also, 
Than  is  he  well  the  more*  worth. 
But  yet  to  put  him  selve*  forth 
He  must  done  al  his  besinesse, 
For  nouther  good  ne  gentilesse 
May  helpen  hem  whiche  idel  be. 
i  O,  one. 


But  who  that  woll  in  his  degre 
Travail^  so  as  it  belongeth, 
It  happeth  ofte'  that  he  fongeth 
Worshfp  and  ese'  bothe"  two. 
For  ever  yet  it  hath  be  so, 
That  love  honest  in  sondry  wey 
Profiteth,  for  it  doth  awey 
The  Vice,  and  as  the  boke"s  sain, 
It  maketh  curteis  to  the  vilafn 
And  to  the  coward  hardiesse 
1 1  yiveth,  so  that  the  verray  pro  wesse 
Is  caused  upon  Loves  reule 
To  him  that  can  manhode  reule, 
And  eke  toward  the  womanhede, 
Who  that  therof  woll  taken  hede. 
For  they  the  better  affaited  be 
In  every  thinge,  as  men  may  se, 
For  love  hath  ever  his  luste's  grene 
In  gentil  folke,  as  it  is  sene, 
Which   thing  there  may  no  kind 

areste. 

I  trowe,  that  there  is  no  beste, 
If  he  with  love  shulde  acqueint, 
That  he  ne  woldd  make  it  queint 
As  for  the  while  that  it  laste. 
And  thus  I  conclude  attd  laste, 
That  they  ben  idel,  as  me  semeth, 
Whiche    unto    thing    that     Love 

demeth 

Forslouthen  that  they  shulden  do ; 
And  over  this,  my  sone,  also 
After  the  Vertue  morall  eke 
To  speke  of  Love,  if  I  shall  seke, 
Among  the  holy  bokes  wise, 
I  finde  write  in  suche  a  wise 
Who  loveth  nought  is  here  as  dede, 
For  Love  above  all  other  is  hede, 
Whiche  hath  the  Vertues  for  to 

lede, 

Of  all  that  unto  manne's  dede 
Belongeth.     For  of  idelship 
He  hateth  all  the  felaship, 
For  Slouthe  is  ever  to  despise, 
Whiche  in  disdeigne  hath  all  ap 
prise, 


202 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  that  accordeth  nought  to  man. 
For  he  that  wit  and  reson  can, 
It  sit  him  wel  that  he  travaile 
Upon  such  thing  which  might  availe, 
For  idelship  is  nought  comended, 
But  every  law  it  hath  defended.1 
And  in  ensample  thereupon 
The  noble  wise  Salomon, 
Whiche  had  of  every  thinge  insight, 
Saith  :   '  As  the  briddes  to  the  flight 
Ben  made",  so  the  man  is  bore 
To  labour/  whiche  is  nought  forbore 
To  hem  that  thenken  for  to  thrive. 
For  we,  which£  nowe  are  alive. 
Of  hem  that  besy  whilom  were 
Als  wel  in  scole  as  elles  where 
Now  every  day  ensample  take, 
That  if  it  wer£  now  to  make 
Thing  which  that  they  first  founden 

out, 

It  shold6  nought  be  brought  about. 
Her  2  Jive's  thanne  were  longe, 
Her    wittds    great,    her    mighte's 

stronge, 

Her  hertes  full  of  besinesse, 
Wherof  the  worldes  redinesse 
In  body  both  and  in  cora"ge 
Stant  ever  upon  his  avauntdge. 
And  for  to  drawe  into  memoire 
Her  names  both  and  her  histoire, 
Upon  the  vertu  of  her  dede 
In  sondry  boke"s  thou  might  rede. 
"  {f)f  et>erg  nrisbom  the  parfit 
The  highe  God  of  his  spirit 
Yaf  unto  men  in  erthe  here 
Upon  the  forme  and  the  matere 
Of  that  he  wold£  make  hem  wise. 
And  thus  cam  in  the  first  apprise 
Of  bokds  and  of  alle  good 
Through  hem  that  whilom  under 
stood 

The  lore  which  to  hem  was  yive, 
Wherof  these  other  that  now  live 
Ben  every  day  to  lerne  new. 

1  Defended,  forbidden.  2  Her,  their. 


But  er  the  time  that  men  sue 1 
And  that  the  labour  forth  it  brought, 
There  was  no  corn,  though  men  it 

sought, 

In  none  of  all  the  feldes  oute. 
And  er  the  wisdom  cam  aboute 
Of  hem  that  first  the  bokes  write, 
This  may  wel  every  wise  man  wite, 
There  was  great  labour  eke  also. 
Thus  was  none  idel  of  the  two  : 
That  one  the  plough  hath  undertake 
With  labour  which  the  hond  hath 

take; 

That  other  toke  to  studie  and  muse 
As  he  which  wolde  nought  refuse 
The  labour  of  his  wittes  alle. 
And  in  this  wise  it  is  befalle 
Of  labour  which  that  they  begonne 
We  be  now  taught  of  that  we  conne. 
Her  besinesse  is  yet  to  sene, 
That  it  stant  ever  aliche  grene, 
All  be  it  so  the  body  deie 
The  name  of  hem  shall  never  awey. 
In  the  croniques  as  I  finde 
Cham,  whos  labour  is  yet  in  minde, 
Was  he  which  first  the  letters  fonde 
And  wrote  inHebreuwith  hishonde, 
Of  natural  philosophy 
He  found  first  also  the  clergy. 
Cadmus  the  letters  of  Gregois 
First  made  upon  his  owne  chois. 
Theges  of  thing  which  shal  befalle 
He  was  the  first  augure  of  alle. 
And  Philemon  by  the  visdge 
Found  to  descrive  the  cordge. 
Claudius,  Esdras  and  Sulpices, 
Trisrnegist,       Pyth'g'ras,        Frige 

Dares,^ 

Menander  and  Epicurus, 
Solinus,  Pandas,  Josephus 

1  Sue,  sowed  seed. 

2  Frigidilles  of  the  MS.  is  evidently  Phry 
gian  Dares,  whose  Trojan  Chronicle  was  then 
of  high  authority.     As  Epicurus  was  a  friend 
of  Menander's — they  were  born  in  the  same 
year — he  must  be  the  writer  whom  the  MS. 
calls  Ephiloquorus. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


203 


The  first^  were  of  enditours 
Of  old  cronfque  and  eke  auctoiirs. 
And  Herodot  in  his  science 
Of  metre,  of  rime  and  of  cadence 
The  firsts'  was  of  which  men  note. 
And  of  musique  also  the  note 
In  manne's  voise  or  softe  or  sharpe 
That  founde  Jubdl.  And  of  the  harpe 
The  mery  soune,  whiche  is  to  like, 
That  found^  Paulius  with  phisique. 
Zeuxis  found  first  the  portreture, 
And  Promethe'us  the  sculpture, 
After  what  forme'  that  hem  thought 
The     resemblaunce     anon      they 

wrought. 

Tubal  in  iron  and  in  stele 
Found  first  the  forge  and  wrought 

it  wele, 

And  Jadahel,  as  saith  the  boke, 
First  made'  nette  and  fisshes  toke. 
Of  hunting  eke  he  found  the  chace, 
Which  now  is  knowe  in  many  place; 
A  tent  of  cloth  with  corde  and  stake 
He  set  up  first  and  did  it  make. 
Berconius  of  cokerie 
First  made'  the  delicacie. 
The  craft  Minerve  of  wells'  fonde 
And  made  cloth  her  owns*  honde. 
And  Delbora  made  it  of  line,1 
The  women  were  of  great  engine.2 
But  thing  which  yiveth  us  mete  and 

drinke 

And  doth  the  labour  for  to  swinke 
To  till  the  londes  and  set  the  vines, 
Wherof  the  Gome's  and  the  wines 
Ben  sustenaunce'  to  mankinde, 
In  olds'  boke's  as  I  finde, 
Saturnus  of  his  own£  wit 
Hath  founde  first,  and  more  yit 
Of  chapmenhode  he  found  the  wey 
And  eke  to  coigns"  the  money 
Of  sondry  metal,  as  it  is, 
He  was  the  firsts'  man  of  this. 
But  how  that  metal  cam  a  place 

1  Line,  linen.  2  Engine,  ingenuity. 


Through  manne's  wit  and  godde's 

grace 

The  route  of  philos6phres  wise 
Contreveden  by  sondry  wise 
First  for  to  get  it  out  of  mine 
And  after  for  to  trie  and  fine. 
And  also  with  great  diligence 
They  founde  thilke  experience, 
Which  clepe'd  is  alconomy,1 
Wherof  the  silver  multiply 
They  made,  and  eke  the  golde  also. 
And  for  to  telle  howe  it  is  so, 
Of  bodies  seven  in  specidll 
With  fours'  spirits  joint  withall 
Slant  the  substance  of  this  mature. 
The  bodies  whiche  I  speke  of  here 
Of  the  pianettes  ben  begonne. 
The  golde  is  titled  to  the  Sonne, 
The  Mone  of  silver  hath  his  part, 
And  iron  that  stond  upon  Mart, 
The  leed  after  Satorne  groweth, 
And  Jupiter  the  brass  bestoweth, 
The  copper  set  is  to  Venus, 
And  to  his  part  Mercurius 
Hath  the  quick  silver,  as  it  falleth, 
The  whiche  after  the  boke  it  calleth 
Is  first  of  thilke'  fours'  named 
Of  spirite's  which  ben  proclaimed. 
And  the  spirit,  whiche  is  secounde 
In  sal  ammoniak  is  founde. 
The  thridde'  spirit  sulphur  is, 
The  fourths'  suende  after  this 
Arsenicum  by  name  is  hole. 
With  blowing  and  with  fire's  hote 
In  thess*  thingS's,  whiche  I  say, 
They  worchen  by  diverse  way. 
For  as  the  philosophre  tolde, 
Of  golde  and  silver  they  ben  holde 
Two  principal  extremities, 
To  whiche  all  other  by  degrees 
Of  the  metalles  ben  accordaunt. 
And  so  through  kinde  resemblaunt, 
That  what  man  couthe  awaie  take 
The  rust  of  which  they  waxen  blacke, 

1  Alconomy,  alchemy. 


204 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  the  savour  of  the  hardnesse, 
They  shulden  take  the  likenesse 
Of  golde  or  silver  parfitly. 
But  for  to  worche  it  sikerly 
Betwene  the  corps  and  the  spirit, 
Er  that  the  metall  be  parfit, 
In  seven  formes  it  is  set 
Of  all.     And  if  that  one  be  let l 
The  remenaunt  may  nought  availe, 
But  other  wise  it  may  nought  faile. 
For  they  by  whom  this  art  was 

founde, 

To  every  point  a  certain  bounde 
Ordeignen,  that  a  man  may  finde 
This  craft  is  wrought  by  wey  of 

kinde 

So  that  there  is  no  fallas  inne. 
But  what  man  that  this  werk  be- 

ginne, 

He  mote  awaite  at  every  tide, 
So  that  nothing  be  left  aside. 
First  of  the  distillation 
Forth  with  the  congelation 
Solucion,  discention, 
And  kepe  in  his  entention 
The  point  of  sublimation, 
And  forth  with  calcination 
Of  verray  approbation 
Do  that  there  be  fixation 
With  tempred  hetes  of  the  fire, 
Till  he  the  parfit  elixire 
Of  thilke  philosdphres  stone 
May  gete,  of  which  that  many  one 
Of  philosophres  whilom  write. 
And  if  thou  wolt  the  names  wite 
Of  thilke'  stone  with  other  two 
Whiche  as  the  clerkes  maden  tho, 
So  as  the  bokes  it  recorden, 
The  kinde  of  hem  I  shall  recorden. 

"  These  olde  philosophres  wise 
By  wey  of  kinde  in  sondry  wise 
Thre  stones  made'  through  clergy.2 
The  firste  if  I  'shall  specify, 
Was  clepe'd  vegetabilis, 

1  Lef,  impeded.  2  Clergy,  learning. 


Of  which  the  propre  vertue  is 
To  mannes  held  for  to  serve 
As  for  to  kepe  and  to  preserve 
The  body  fro  sikenesses  alle, 
Till  deth  of  kinde  upon  him  falle. 

"The  stone  secdnde  I  thee  behote 
Is  lapis  animalis  hote, 
The  whose  vertue  is   propre  and 

couth 

For  ere  andeyeandnase  and  mouth, 
Wherof  a  man  may  here  and  se 
And  smelle  and  taste  in  his  degre. 
And  for  to  fele  and  for  to  go 
It  helpeth  a  man,  of  bothe  two 
The  \vittes  five  he  underfongeth 
To  kepe  as  it  to  him  belongeth. 

"  The  thridde  stone  in  special! 
By  name  is  cleped  mineral!, 
Which  the  metalles  of  every  mine 
Attempreth  till  that  they  ben  fine, 
And  pureth  hem  by  such  a  wey 
That  all  the  vice  goth  awey 
Of  rust,  of  stinke  and  of  hardnesse. 
And  whan  they  ben  of  such  clen- 

nesse, 

This  minerall,  so  as  I  finde, 
Transformeth  all  the  firste  kinde 
And  maketh  hem  able  to  conceive 
Through  his  vertue  and  to  receive 
Both  in  substaiince  and  in  figure 
Of  golde  and  silver  the  nature. 
For  they  two  ben  thextremities 
To  whiche  after  the  propreties 
Hath  every  metal  his  desire 
With  helpe  and  comfort  of  the  fire 
Forth  with  this  stone,  as  it  is  said, 
Which  totheSonneandMoneislaid; 
For  to  the  redde  and  to  the  white 
This  stone  hath  power  to  profite, 
It  maketh  multiplication 
Of  golde  and  the  fixation 
It  causeth,  and  of  his  habite 
He  doth  the  werke  to  be  parfite 
Of  thilke  elixir  :  which  men  calle 
Alconomy,  as  is  befalle 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


205 


To  hem  that  whilom  were  wise. 
But  nowe  it  stant  all  otherwise. 
They  speken  fast  of  thilk£  stone, 
But  how  to  make  it  now  wot  none 
After  the  sothe  experience. 
And  netheles  great  diligence 
They  setten  upon  thilke'  dede 
And  spillen  more  than  they  spede. 
For  alle*  way  they  finde  a  lette l 
Which  bringeth  in  pouerte  anddette 
To  hem,  that  riche'  were  afore. 
The  loss  is  had,  the  lucre  is  lore, 
To  get  a  pound  they  spenden  five, 
I  not  how  such  a  craft  shall  thrive 
In  the  maner  as  it  is  used. 
It  were  better  be  refused 
Than  for  to  worchen  upon  wene  2 
In  thing  which  stant  nought  as  they 

wene. 

But  nought  forthy,  who  that  it  kne we, 
The  science  of  him  self  is  trewe 
Upon  the  forme  as  it  was  founded, 
Wherof  the  names  yet  be  grounded 
Of  hem  that  first  it  founden  out 
And  thus  the  fame'  goth  about 
To  such  as  soughten  besinesse 
Of  vertue  and  of  worthinesse, 
Of  whom  if  I  the  name's  calle, 
Hermes  was  one  the  first  of  alle, 
To  whom  this  art  is  most  applied. 
Geber  therof  was  magnified 
And  Ortolan  and  Morien, 
Among  the  which  is  Avicen, 
Which  found  and  wrote  a  great 

partie 

The  practique  of  alconomie. 
Whose  bokis  plainly,  as  theystonde 
Upon  this  craft,  few  understonde ; 
But  yet  to  put  hem  in  assay, 
There  ben  full  many  now  a  day 
That  knowen  lite!  what  they  mene. 
It  is  nought  one  to  wite  and  wene 
In  forme  of  wordes  they  it  trete, 
But  yet  they  failen  of  beyete, 

1  Lette,  hindrance.       2  Went,  expectation. 


For  of  to  moche  or  of  to  lite 
There  is  algate'  found  a  wite,1 
So  that  they  folwe  nought  the  line 
Of  the  parfite'  medicine, 
Which  grounded  is  upon  nature. 
But  they  that  writen  the  scripture 
Of  Greke,  Arabe  and  of  Caldee, 
They  were  of  suche  auctorite', 
That  they  first  founden  out  the  way 
Of  all  that  thou  hast  herd  me  say, 
Wherof  the  cronique  of  her  lore 
Shall  stonde  in  prise  for  evermore. 
But  toward  cure  marches  here 
Of  the  Latins,  if  thou  wolt  here 
Of  hem  that  whilom  vertuous 
Were  and  therto  laborious, 
Carmente  made  of  her  engine 
The  firstd  letters  of  Latine, 
Of  which  the  tunge'  Remain  cam, 
Wherof  that  Aristarchus  nam 
Forth  with  Donat  and  Dindimus 
The  firste'  reule  of  scole,  as  thus 
How  that  Latin  shall  be  compouned 
And  in  what  wise  it  shall  be  souned, 
That  every  word  in  his  degre' 
Shall  stond  upon  congruite'. 
And  thilke  time  at  Rome  also 
Ther  was  Tullius  Cicero 
That  \vriteth  upon  rethorique, 
How  that  men  shuld  her  wordes 

pike 

After  the  forme  of  eloquence, 
Which  is,  men  sain,  a  great  pru- 

de'nce. 

And  after  that  out  of  Hebrew 
Jerome*,  which  the  langage  knew, 
The  Bible  in  which  the  lawe  is  closed 
Into  Latine  he  hath  transposed. 
And  many  an  other  writer  eke 
Out  of  Caldee,  Arabe  and  Greke 
With  great  labour  the  bokes  wise 
Translateden.     And  otherwise 
The  Latins  of  hem  self  also 
Her  study  at  thilke'  time  so 

l  Wite,  blame. 


206 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


With  great  travaile  of  scole  toke 
In  sondry  forme  for  to  boke, 
That  we  may  take  her  evidences 
Upon  the  lore  of  the  sciences, 
Of  craftes  bothe  and  of  clergie  ; 
Among  the  whiche  in  poesie 
To  the  lovers  Ovide  wrote 
And  taught,  if  love  be  to  hote, 
In  what  maner  it  shulde  akele. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  if  that  thou 

fele, 

That  Love  wringe  the  to  sore, 
Behold  Ovide  and  take  his  lore." — 

"  My  fader,  if  they  mightd  spede 
My  love,  I  wolde  his  bokes  rede. 
And  if  they  techen  to  restreigne 
My  love,  it  were  an  idel  peine 
To  lerne  a  thing  which  may  nought 

be. 

For  lien  unto  the  grene  tre 
If  that  men  take  his  root  awey, 
Right  so  min  herte  shulde  deie 
If  that  my  love  be  withdrawe. 
Wherof  touchend  unto  this  sawe 
There  is  but  onely  to  pursue 
My  Love,  and  Idelship  escheue." — 

"  My  gode  sone,  soth  to  say, 
If  there  be  siker  any  way 
To  love*,  thou  hast  said  the  best. 
For  who  that  woll  have  all  his  rest 
And  do  no  travaile  at  the  nede, 
It  is  no  reson  that  he  spede 
In  Love's  cause*  for  to  winne. 
For  he  which  dare  nothing  beginne, 
I  not  what  thinge  he  shulde  acheve. 
But  over  this  thou  shalt  beleve, 
So  as  it  sit  thee  well  to  knowe, 
That  there  ben  other  Vices  slowe, 
Which  unto  Lov^  don  great  lette, 
If  thou  thin  hert  upon  hem  sette. 

^on)ar6  the  slowd  progeny 
There  is  yet  one  of  compaigny, 
And  he  is  cleped  Sompnolence, 
Which  doth  to  Slouth  his  reverence 
As  he  which  is  his  chamberlein, 


That  many  an  hunderd  time  hath 

lein 

To  slepe  whan  he  shulde'  wake. 
He  hath  with  Love  trewes  take, 
That  wake  who  so  wake  will, 
If  he  may  couche  adown  his  bill 
He  hath  all  wowed  what  him  list, 
That  oft  he  goth  to  bed  unkist 
And  saith,  that  for  no  druery 
He  woll  nought  leve  his  sluggardy. 
For  though  no  man  it  wold  allowe, 
To  slepe  lever  than  to  wowe 
Is  his  maner,  and  thus  on  nightes, 
Whan  he  seeth  the  lusty  knightes 
Revelen  where  these  women  are, 
Awey  he  skulketh  as  an  hare 
And  goth  tobed  and  laith  him  softe ; 
And  of  his  Slouth  he  dremeth  ofte, 
How  that  he  sticketh  in  the  mire, 
And  how  he  sitteth  by  the  fire 
And  claweth  on  his  bare  shankes, 
And  how  he  climeth  up  the  bankes 
And  falleth  in  the  slades l  depe. 
But  thanne  who  so  take  kepe 
Whan  he  is  fall  in  suche  a  dreme 
Right  as  a  ship  ayein  the  streme 
He  routeth  with  a  slepy  noise 
And  brustleth  as  a  monkes  froise  2 
Whan  it  is  throwe  into  the  panne. 
And  otherwhile  selde'  whanne 
That  he  may  dreme  a  lusty  sweven, 
Him  thenketh  as  though  he  were 

in  heven 

And  as  the  world  were  holy  his  ; 
And  than  he  speketh  of  that  and  this 
And  maketh  his  exposition 
After  his  disposition 
Of  that  he  wold,  in  such  a  wise 
He  doth  to  Love  all  his  servise, 
I  not  what  thank  he  shall  deserve. 
But  sone,  if  thou  wolt  Love'  serve, 
I  rede  that  thou  do  nought  so."— 

"  Ha,  gode  fader,  certes  no. 
I  hadde  lever  by  my  trouth, 

1  Slades,  valleys.  -  Froise,  pancake. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


207 


Er  I  were  set  on  such  a  Sloufth 
And  bertS  such  a  slepy  snout, 
Bothe  eyen  of  my  hede  were  out. 
For  me  \vere  better  fully  deie 
Than  I  of  suche  sluggardie 
Had  any  name,  Goo^me  shielde. 

"  For  certes,  fader  Genius, 
Yet  unto  now  it  hath  be  thus 
At  a\\6  time  if  it  befelle 
So  that  I  mighte'  come  and  dwelle 
In  place  there  my  lady  were, 
I  was  nought  slow  ne  slepy  there.' 
For  than  I  dare  well  undertake, 
That  whan  her  list  on  nightes  wake 
Inchambre  as  to  cardie  anddaunce, 
Me   thenketh    I    may   me    more 

avaunce 

If  I  may  gone  upon  her  honde, 
Than  if  I  wonne  a  kinge's  londe. 
For  whan  I  may  her  hond  beclippe, 
With  such  gladnesse  I  daunce  and 

skippe 
Me  thenketh  I  touche  nought  the 

floor, 

Theroo,  which  renneth  on  the  moor, 
Is  thanne  nought  so  light  as  I. 
So  mow  ye  witen  all  forthy, 
That  for  the  time'  slepe  I  hate. 
And  whan  it  falleth  other  gate, 
So  that  her  like'  nought  to  daunce, 
But  on  the  dees  to  castd  chaunce, 
Or  axe  of  Love'  some  demaunde, 
Or  elles  that  her  list  commaunde 
To  rede  and  here  of  Troilus, — 
Right  as  she  wold,  or  so  or  thus, 
I  am  all  redy  to  consent. 
And  if  so  is,  that  I  may  hent 
Somtime  amonge  a  good  leisfr, 
So  as  I  dare  of  my  desir 
I  telle  a  part,  but  whan  I  prey, 
Anone  she  biddeth  me  go  my  wey 
And  saith  :   '  It  is  fer  in  the  night : ' 
And  I  swere,  it  is  even  light. 
But  as  it  falleth  atteS  laste, 
There  may  no  worldes  joie  laste, 


So  mote  I  nedds  fro  her  wende 
And  of  my  wacche  make  an  ende. 
And  if  she  thanne'  hedd  toke 
How  pitouslich  on  her  I  loke, 
Whan  that  I  shall  my  levd  take, 
Her  ought  of  mercy  for  to  slake 
Her  daunger,  which  saith  ever  nay. 
But  he  saith  often,  'Have  good  day,' 
That  loth  is  for  to  take  his  leve. 
Therford  while  I  may  beleve^1 
I  tarie  forth  the  night  alonge. 
For  it  is  nought  on  me  alonge 
To  slepe'  that  I  so  soone  go 
Till  that  I  mote  algate  so, 
And  thanne  I  bidd£  :  '  God  her  se,' 
And  so  down  knelende  on  my  kne 
I  take  leve,  and  if  I  shall 
I  kisse  her  and  go  forth  withall. 
And  other  while,  if  that  I  dore,2 
Er  I  come  fully  atte'  dore, 
I  torne  ayein  and  feigne  a  thing, 
As  though  I  hadde  lost  a  ring 
Or  somwhat  die's,  for  I  wolde     x 
Kisse  her  eftsone,  if  that  I  sholde. 
But  selden  is,  that  I  so  spede. 
And  whan  I  se  that  I  mot  nede 
Departen,  I  departe,  and  thanne 
With    all    my  herte  I  curse  and 

banne 

That  ever  slepe  was  made  for  eye. 
For  as  me  thenketh  I  might  drie  3 
Without^  slepe  to  waken  ever 
So  that  I  shulde'  nought  dissever 
Fro  her  in  whom  is  all  my  light. 
And  than  I  curse  also  the  night 
With  all  the  will  of  my  cordge 
And  say:  'Away  thou  black  ymdge, 
Which  of  thy  derke'  cloudy  face 
Makest  all  the  worlde's  light  deface 
And  causest  unto  slepe  a  way, 
By  which  I  mot  now  gone  away 
Out  of  my  ladies  compaignie. 
O  slepy  night,  I  thee  defie, 


remain.  2  Dortt  dare. 

8  Drie.  endure. 


208 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  wolde  that  thou  lay  in  presse 
With  Proserpine  the  goddesse 
And  with  Pluto  the  helle  king. 
For  till  I  se  the  daies  spring, 
I  sette  slepe  nought  at  a  risshe.' 
And  with  that  worde  I  sigh  and 

wisshe 

And  say :  *  Ha,  why  ne  were  it  day, 
For  yet  my  lady  than  I  may 
Beholdd,  though  I  do  no  more! 
But  slepe, — I  not  wherof  it  serveth, 
Of  which  no  man  his  thank  de- 

serveth 

To  get  him  love  in  any  place, 
But  is  an  hindrer  of  his  grace 
And  maketh  hem  dede  as  for  a 

throwe 

Right  as  a  stoke  were  overthrowe. 
And  so,  my  fader,  in  this  wise 
The  slepy  nightes  I  despise 
And  ever  amiddes  of  my  tale 
I  thenke  upon  the  nightingale, 
Which  slepeth  nought  by  wey  of 

kinde 

For  love,  in  bokes  as  I  finde. 
Thus  atte  last  I  go  to  bedde 
And  yet  min  herte  lith  to  wedde 
With  her  where  as  I  came  fro, 
Though  I  departe  hewoll  nought  so. 
There  is  no  lock  may  shet  him  out, 
Him  nedeth  nought  to  gon  about 
That  perce  may  the  harde'  wal, 
Thus  is  he  with  her  overall. 
And  thus  my  selven  I  torment, 
Til  that  the  dede  slepe  me  hent. 
But  thanne'  by  a  thousand  score 
Wei  more  than  I  was  to-fore 
I  am  tormented  in  my  slepe, 
But  that  I  dreme  is  nought  on  shepe, 
For  I  ne  thenke'  nought  on  wulle, 
But  I  am  drecched  l  to  the  fulle 
Of  Love  that  I  have  to  kepe, 
That  now  I  laugh  and'now  I  wepe 
And  now  I  lese  and  now  I  winne 

1  Drecchedt  troubled,  vexed. 


And  now  I  ende  and  now  beginne. 
And  other  while  I  dreme  and  mete,1 
That  I  alone  with  her  mete 
And  that  Daunger  is  left  behinde. 
And  than  in  slepe  such  joy  I  finde, 
That  I  ne  bede  never  awake. 
But  after,  whan  I  hede  take, 
And  shall  arise  upon  the  morwe, 
Than  is  all  torned  into  sorwe, 
Nought  for  the  cause  I  shall  arise, 
But  for  I  mette  2  in  suche  a  wise, 
And  atte  last  I  am  bethought, 
That  all  is  vein  and  helpeth  nought, 
But  yet  me  thenketh  by  my  wille 
I  wold  have  lay  and  slepe'  stille 
To  meten  ever  of  such  a  sweven,3 
For  than  I  had  a  slepy  heven." — 

"  My  sone,  and  for  thou  tellest  so, 
A  man  may  finde  of  time  ago, 
That  many  a  sweven  hath  be  certain, 
All  be  it  so  that  som  men  sain    "\ 
That  swevens  ben  of  no  credence. 
But  for  to  shewe  in  evidence 
That  they  full  ofte  sothe  thinges 
Betoken,  I  thenke  in  my  writfnges 
To  telle  a  tale  therupon, 

fell  by  olde  daies  gone. 
te  fin&e  §  writen  in  poesy. 

;ix  the  king  of  Troceny 
Hadde  Alceone'  to  his  wife, 
Which  as  her  owne  herte's  life 
Him  loveth.      And  he  had  also 
A  brother,  which  was  cleped  tho 
Dedalion,  and  he  par  cas 
Fro  kinde  of  man  forshape  was 
Into  a  goshauke  for  likenesse ; 
Wherof  this  king  great  hevinesse 
Hath  take  and  thought  in  hiscordge 
To  gone  upon  a  pelrirylge 
Into  a  straunge7  regioT^" 
Where  he  hath  his  devocidn 
To  done  his  sacrifice  and  prey 
If  that  he  might  in  any  wey 

1  Mete,  dream.  2  Mette,  dreamt. 

3  Sweven ,  a  dream. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


209 


Toward  the  godde*s  finde  grace 
His  brothers  hel£  to  purchace, 
So  that  he  mightd  be  reformed 
Of  that  he  haddd  be  transformed. 
To  this  purpdse  and  to  this  ende 
This  king  is  redy  for  to  wende 
As  he  which  wolde  go  by  ship. 
And  for  to  done  him  felaship 
His  wife  unto  the  see  him  brought 
With  all  her  herte,  and  him  besought 
That  he  the  time  her  woldd  sain 
Whan  that  he  thought^  come  ayein. 
Within,  he  saith,  two  monthes  day. 
And  thus  in  alle  haste  he  may 
He  toke  his  leve  and  forth  he  saileth, 
Wepend  and  she  her  self  bewaileth 
Andtorneth  home  there  shecamfro. 
But  whan  the  monthe*s  were  ago, 
The  which  he  set  of  his  comfng, 
And  that  she  herd£  no  tiding, 
There  was  no  card  for  to  scene 
Wherof  the  goddes  to  beseche. 
Tho  she  began  in  many  a  wise 
And  to  Juno  her  sacrifice 
Above  all  other  most  she  dede 
And  for  her  lord  she  hath  so  hede 
To  wite  and  knowehowthatheferd, 
That  Juno  the  goddesse  her  herde 
Anone,  and  upon  this  matere 
She  badde  Yrfs  her  messagere 
To  Slepe*s  hous  that  she  shal  wende 
And  bid  him  that  he  make  an  ende 
By  sweven,  and  shewe  all  the  cas 
Unto  this  lady  how  it  was. 

"  This  Yris  fro  the  highe  stage, 
Whiche  undertake  hath  the  mes 
sage, 

Her  reiny  copd  did  upon, 
The  which  was  wonderly  begone 
With  colours  of  diverse  hewe 
An  hunderd  mo  than  men  it  knewe, 
The  heven  liche  unto  a  bowe 
She  bende,  and  she  cam  downe  lowe 
The  God  of  Slepe  where  that  she 
fond. 


And  that  was  in  a  straunge'  lond 
Which  marcheth  1  upon  Chimery. 
For  there,  as  saith  the  poesy, 
The  God  of  Slepe  hath  made  his 

hous, 
Whiche  of  entaile  is  merveilous. 

"  Under  an  hill  there  is  a  cave 
Which  of  the  sonnd  may  nought 

have, 

So  that  no  man  may  knowe  aright 
The  point  betwene   the   day  and 

night. 

There  is  no  fire,  there  is  no  sparke, 
There  is  no  dord  which  maycharke,2 
Wherof  an  eyd  shulde  unshet, 
So  that  inwdrd  there  is  no  let. 
And  for  to  speke  of  that  withoute, 
There  stant  no  great  tre  nigh  aboute, 
Wheron  there  mightd  crowe  or  pie 
Alightd  for  to  clepe  or  crie. 
There  is  no  cock  to  crowd  day, 
Ne  bestd  none  which  noisd  may 
The  hille,  but  all  aboute*  round 
There  is  growend  upon  the  ground 
Poppy,  which  bereth  the  sede  of 

slepe, 

With  other  herbe"s  suche  an  hepe. 
A  stilld  water  for  the  nones 
Renne"nd  upon  the  smalld  stones, 
Which  hight  of  Lethe's  the  rive*r, 
Under  that  hille  in  such  mane'r 
There  is,  which  yiveth  great  ap 
petite 

To  slepe.     And  thus  ful  of  delite 
Slepe  hath  his  hous,  and  of  his 

couche 

Within  his  chambre  if  I  shall  touche 
Of  hebenus  that  slepy  tre 
The  horde's  all  aboutd  be, 
And  for  he  shulde*  slepd  softe 
Upon  a  fether  bed  alofte 
He  lith  with  many  a  pilwe  of  doun, 
The  chambre  is  strowe'd  up   and 

doun 


Marchtth,  borders. 


2  Charkt,  creak. 

o 


210 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


With  swevenes  many  a  thousand 

fold. 

Thus  came  Yris  into  this  holde^ 
And  to  the  bed,  whiche  is  all  Black, 
She  goth,  and  ther  with  Slepe  she 

spake, 

And  in  this  wise  as  she  was  bede 
The  message  of  Jund  she  dede. 
Full  ofte  her  wordes  she  reherceth, 
Er  she  his  slepy  eres  perceth 
With  mochel  wo.      But  atte  laste 
His  slombrend  eyen  he  upcaste 
And  said  her,  that  it  shal  be  do, 
Wherof  amonge  a  thousand  tho 
Within  his  hous  that  slepy  were 
In  speciall  he  chese  out  there 
Thre,  whiche  shulden  do  this  dede. 
The  first  of  hem,  so  as  I  rede, 
Was  Morpheus,  the  whose  nature 
Is  for  to  take  the  figure 
Of  that  persone  that  him  liketh, 
Wherof  that  he  ful  ofte  entriketh1 
The  life  which  slepe  shal  by  night. 
And  Ithecus  that  other  hight, 
Which  hath  the  vois  of  every  soune, 
The  chere  and  the  condicioiin 
Of  every  life  what  so  it  is. 
The  thridde  suend  after  this 
Is  Panthasas,  which  may  transforme 
Of  every  thing  the  righte  forme 
And  chaunge  it  in  another  kinde. 
Upon  hem  thre,  so  as  I  finde, 
Of  swevens  stant  all  tha'ppare'nce, 
Which  other  while  is  evidence 
And  other  while  but  a  jape.2 
But  netheles  it  is  so  shape, 
That  Morpheus  by  night  alone 
Appereth  unto  Alceone 
In  likenesse  of  her  husebonde 
Al  naked  dede  upon  the  stronde, 
And  how  he  dreint3  in  speciall 
These  other  two  it  shewen  all. 
The  tempest  of  the  blacke  cloude 

1  Entriketh,  deceives.  2  Jape,  trick,  jest. 

3  Dreint,  was  drpwned. 


The  wode 1  see,  the  windes  loude 
All  this  she  met,2  and   sigh  him 

deien, 

Wherof  that  she  began  to  crien 
Slepend  abedde  there  she  lay. 
And  with  that  noise  of  her  affray 
Her  women  sterten  up  aboute, 
Whiche  of  her  lady  were  in  double 
And  axen  her  how  that  she  ferde. 
And  she  right  as  she  sigh  and  herde 
Her  sweven  hath  tolde  hem  every 

dele. 

And  they  it  halsen  3  alle  wele 
And  sain,  it  is  a  token  of  good  ; 
But  til  she  wist  how  that  it  stood, 
She  hath  no  comfort  in  her  herte. 
Upon  the  morwe  and  up  she  sterte 
And  to  the  see  where  as  she  met  2 
The  body  lay  withoute  lete 
She  drough,  and  whanne  she  cam 

nigh 
Starke  dede,  his  armes  sprad,  she 

sigh 

Her  lord  fletend  upon  the  wawe, 
Wherof  her  wittes  be  withdravve. 
And  she  which  toke  of  deth  no  kepe, 
Anone  forth  lepte  into  the  depe 
And  wold  have  caught  him  in  her 

arme. 

This  infortune  of  double  harme 
The  goddes  from  the  heven  above 
Beheld,  and  for  the  trouthe  of  love 
Whiche  in  this  worthy  lady  stood, 
They  have  upon  the  salte  flood 
Her  dreinte  lorde  and  her  also 
Fro  deth  to  life  torned  so, 
That  they  ben  shapen  into  briddes 
Swimmendupon  the  wawe  amiddes. 
And  whan  she  sigh  her  lord  livencl 
In  likenesse  of  a  bird  swimmend, 
And  she  was  of  the  same  sort, 
So  as  she  mighte  do  disport 
Upon  the  joie  which  she  hadde, 


1  Wodf,  raging. 

3  Halsen,  embrace. 


2  Met,  dreamed. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


211 


Her  winges  both  abrode  she  spradde 
And  him  so  as  she  may  suffise 
Beclipt  and  kist  in  suche  a  wise 
As  she  was  whilome  wont  to  do. 
Her  winges  for  her  armes  two 
She  toke  and  for  her  lippe's  softe 
Her  hardd  bille,  and  so  ful  ofte 
She  fondeth  in  her  briddes  forme, 
If  that  she  might  her  self  conforme 
To  do  the  plesaunce  of  a  wife 
As  she  did  in  that  other  life. 
Forthough  shehaddeher  power  lore 
Her  will  stood  as  it  was  to-fore, 
And  serveth  him  so  as  she  may. 
Wherof  into  this  ilke'  day 
To-gider  upon  the  see  they  wone,1 
Where  many  a  doughter  and  a  sone 
They    bringen    forth    of    briddes 

kinde. 

And  for  men  shulden  take  in  minde 
This  Alceon  the  trewe'  quene, 
Her  briddes  yet  as  it  is  sene 
Of  Alceon  2  the  namd  bere. 

"  Lo  thus,  my  sone,  it  may  thee 

stere 

Of  swevens  for  to  take  kepe ; 
For  ofte  time  a  man  a  slepe 
May  se  what  after  shall  betide. 
Forthy  it  helpeth  at  some  tide 
A  man  to  slepe  as  it  belongeth  ; 
But  Slouthe  no  life  underfongeth 
WhicheistoLove  appertenaunt." — 

"  My  fader,  upon  the  covenaunt 
I  dare  wel  make  this  avowe, 
Of  alle  my  life  into  nowe 
Als  fer  as  I  can  understonde 
Yet  took  I  never  slepe  on  honde 
Whan  it  was  time'  for  to  wake, 
For  though  min  eye  it  wolde  take, 
Min  herte  is  ever  there  ayein. 
But  nethe'les  to  speke  it  plein 
All  this  that  I  have  said  you  here 
Of  my  wakinge,  as  ye  may  here, 
It  toucheth  to  my  lady  swete, 

1  Wcme,  dwell.  *  Alceon,  halcyon. 


For  other  wise  I  you  behete,1 
In  straunge'  place  whan  I  go 
Me  list  no  thing  to  wake*  so. 
For  whan  the  women  listen  play 
And  I  her  se  nought  in  the  way 
Of  whome  I  shulde'  merthe  take, 
Me  list  nought  longd  for  to  wake 
But  if  it  be  for  pure  shame 
Of  that  I  wolde  escheue  a  name, 
That  they  ne  shuld  have  cause'  none 
To  say  :  «  Ha,  where'  goth  such  one 
That  hath  forlore  his  contenaunce,' 
And  thus  among  I  singe  and  daunce 
And  feigne'  lust  thereas  none  is. 
For  ofte'  sith  I  fete  this, 
Of   thought  which   in    min    herte 

falleth, 
Whan    it    is  night  min  hede  ap- 

palleth,2 

And  that  is  for  I  se  her  nought 
Whiche  is  the  waker  of  my  thought. 
And  thus  as  timelich  as  I  may 
Ful  oft,  whan  it  is  brode  day, 
I  take  of  all  these  other  leve 
And  go  my  wey,  and  they  beleve  3 
That  seen  par  cas  her  love's  there, 
And  I  go  forth  as  nought  ne  were 
Unto  my  bed,  so  that  alone 
I  may  there  ligge,  sigh  and  grone 
And  wisshen  all  the  longe'  night, 
Til  that  I  see  the  dale's  light. 
I  not  if  that  be  Sompnolence, 
But  upon  youre*  conscience, 
Min  holy  fader,  demeth  ye." — 
"  My  sone,  I  am  well  paid  4  with 

the, 

Of  slepe  that  thou  the  sluggardy 
By  night  in  love's  compaignie 
Eschue'd  hast,  and  do  thy  pain 
So  that  thy  love'  dare  nought  pleine. 
But  only  slepe*  helpeth  kind 
Somtime  in  phisique  as  I  finde, 

1  I  you  behete,  I  promise  you. 

2  Appalleth,  becomes  weak. 

3  Beleve,  remain. 
*  Paid,  pleased. 


212 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Whan  it  is  take  by  mesure, 
But  he  which  can  no  slepe  mesure 
Upon  the  reule  as  it  belongeth 
Ful  ofte  of  sodein  chaunce  hefongeth 
Suche  infortune  that  him  greveth. 
But  who  these  olde  bokes  leveth 
Of  Sompnolence  howe  it  is  write, 
There  may  a  man  the  sothe  wite, 
If  that  he  wolde  ensample  take, 
That  other  while  is  good  to  wake ; 
Wherof  a  tale  in  poesy 
I  thenke  for  to  specify. 

"  gtoibe  i ellet fy  in  his  sawes, 
How  Jupiter  by  olde'  dawes 
Lay  by  a  maids'  whiche  Yo 
Was  clepe'd,  wherof  that  Juno 
His  wife  was  wrothe  and  the  god- 

desse 

Of  Yo  torneth  the  likenesse 
Into  a  cow  to  gon  there  oute 
The  large'  felde"s  all  aboute 
And  gette  her  mete  upon  the  grene. 
And  therupon  this  highe  quene 
Betoke  her  Argus  for  to  kepe, 
For  he  was  selden  wont  to  slepe  ; 
And  yet  he  had  an  hunderd  eyen, 
And  all  alichd  wel  they  sighen. 
Now  herke  how  that  he  was  be 
guiled. 

Mercury,  which  was  all  affiled1 
This  cow  to  stele,  he  camedesguised 
And  had  a  pipe  wel  devised 
Upon  the  notes  of  musique, 
Wherof  he  might  his  ere's  like. 
And  over  that  he  had  affaited 
His  lusty  tales  and  awaited 
His  time.      And  thus  into  the  felde 
He  came,  where  Argus  he  behelde 
With  Yo,  which  beside  him  went. 
With  that  his  pipe  anon  he  hent 
And  gan  to  pipe  in  his  manere 
Thing  which  was  slepy  for  to  here. 
And  in  his  piping  ever  amonge 
He  tolde  him  such  a  lusty  songe, 

1  Affiled,  adapted. 


That  he  the  fool  hath  brought  a  slepe, 
There  was  none   eye    that  might 

kepe 

His  hede,  which  Mercury  of-smote. 
And  forth  withall  anone  foot  hote 
He  stale  the  cow  whiche  Argus 

kepte, 

And  all  this  fel  for  that  he  slepte. 
Ensample  it  was  to  many  mo, 
That  mochel  slepe  doth  ofte  wo 
Whan  it  is  timd  for  to  wake. 
For  if  a  man  this  Vice  take 
In  Sompnolence  and  him  delite, 
Men  shuld  upon  his  dord  write 
His  epitaphe  and  on  his  grave, 
For  he  to  spille  and  nought  to  save 
Is  shape  as  though  he  were  dede. 
"  Forthy  my  sone,  hold  up  thin 

hede 

And  let  no  slepe  thin  eye  englue, 
But  whan  it  is  to  reson  due/' — 

"  My  fader,  as  touchend  of  this 
Right  so  as  I  you  tolde  it  is, 
That  ofte  abedde  whan  I  sholde 
I  may  nought  slep£  though  I  wolde. 
For  Love  is  ever  faste*  by  me, 
Which  taketh  none  hede  of  due  timd, 
For  whan  I  shall  min  eyen  close, 
Anone  min  hert  he  woll  oppose 
And  hold  his  scole  in  such  a  wise 
Till  it  be  day  that  I  arise, 
That  selde  it  is  whan  that  I  slepe. 
And  thus  fro  Sompnolence  I  kepe 
Min  eye.      And  forthy  if  there  be 
Ought  die's  more  in  this  degre 
Now  axeth  forth." — "  My  sond,  yis. 
For  Slcuthe",  whiche  as  moder  is 
The  forth  drawer  and  the  nonce 
To  man  of  many  a  dredful  Vice, 
Hath  yet  another,  last  of  alle, 
Which  many  a  man  hath  made  to 

falle 

Where  that  he  might  never  arise, 
Wherof  for  thou  thee  shalt  avise 
Er  thou  so  with  thy  self  misfare, 


BOOK  IV. —SLOTH. 


213 


What  Vice  it  is  I  woll  declare. 
"^ftcm  «5Iouff)  hath  don  all 

that  he  may 

To  drive  forth  the  longe  day, 
Till  it  become*  to  the  nede, 
Than  atte'  last  upon  the  dede 
He  loketh  how  his  time  is  lore, 
And  is  so  wo  begone  therfore 
That  he  within  his  thought  con- 

ceiveth 

Tristesse,  and  so  him  self  deceiveth 
That  he  Wanhope l  bringeth  inne, 
Where  is  no  comfort  to  beginne. 
But  every  joy  him  is  deslaied, 
So  that  within  his  herte  affraied 
A  thousand  time  with  one  breth 
Wep^nd  he  wissheth  after  deth, 
Whan  he  Fortune*  fmt  adverse. 
For  than  he  woll  his  hope  reherse, 
As  though  his  world  were  all  forlore, 
And  saith,  *  Alas,  that  I  was  bore, 
How  shall  I  live  ?  how  shall  I  do  ? 
For  now  Fortune  is  thus  my  fo, 
I  wot  well  God  me  woll  nought 

helpe, 

What  shulde  I  than  of  joies  yelpe,2 
Whan  there  no  bote  3  is  of  my  care  ; 
So  overcast  is  my  welfare, 
That  I  am  shapen  all  to  strife ; 
Helas,  that  I  nere  of  this  life, 
Er  I  be  fullich  overtake  ! ' 
And  thus  he  woll  his  sorwe  make, 
As  God  him  mightd  nought  availe. 
But  yet  ne  woll  he  nought  travaile 
To  helpe  him  self  at  suche  a  nede, 
But  sloutheth  under  suche  a  drede 
Whiche  is  afferme'd  in  his  herte 
Right  as  he  mighte*  nought  asterte 
The  worldes  wo  which  he  is  inne. 
Also  whan  he  is  falle  in  sinne, 
Him  thenketh  he  is  sofercoulpdble, 
That  god  woll  nought  be  mercidble 
So  great  a  sinne*  to  foryive, 

1  Wanhope,  despair.  2  Yelpe,  boast.    . 

*  Bote,  remedy. 


And  thus  he  leveth  to  be  shrive. 
And  if  a  man  in  thilkd  throwe 
Wold  him  counseile,  he  wol  nought 

knowe 

The  sothd,  though  a  man  it  finde. 
For  Tristesse  is  of  suche  a  kinde, 
That  for  to  mainten  his  foly, 
He  hath  with  him  obstfnac^, 
Which  is  within  of  suche  a  Slouth 
That  he  forsaketh  alle  trouth 
And  woll  unto  no  reson  bo\ve. 
And  yet  ne  can  he  nought  abowe  1 
His  owne*  skille,  but  of  hede 
Thus  dwineth  2  he  till  he  be  dede, 
In  hindring  of  his  owne  estate. 
For  where  a  man  is  obstinate, 
Wanhope'  folweth  atte*  laste, 
Whiche*  may  nought  longe  after  laste 
Till  Slouthe  make  of  him  an  ende. 
But  God  wot  whider  he  shall  wende ! 

"My  sone,   and  right  in  such 

manere, 

There  be  loveVs  of  hevy  chere, 
That  sorwen  more*  than  is  nede, 
Whan  they  be  taried  of  her  spede 
And  conne*  nought  hem  selven  rede, 
But  lesen  hope*  for  to  spede 
And  stinten  love  to  pursue. 
And  thus  they  faden  hide  and  hewe 
And  lustles  in  her  hertes  waxe. 
Herof  it  is  that  I  wolde  axe, 
If  thou,  my  sone,  arte  one  of  tho  ?" — 

"  Ha,  gode'  fader,  it  is  so, 
Outtake  o  point,  I  am  beknowe,3 
For  ellds  I  am  overthrowe 
In  all  that  ever  ye  have  saide ; 
My  sorwe  is  evermore  unteide 
And  secheth  over  all  my  veines. 
But  for  to  counseile  of  my  peines, 
I  can  no  bote'  do  therto. 
And  thus  withouten  hope  I  go, 
So  that  my  witte's  ben  empeired 
And  I  as  who  saith  am  dispeired 

1  Abowe,  maintain. 

-  Dwineth,  wastes,  pines. 

3  I  confess,  except  as  to  one  point. 


214 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


To  winne  love  of  thilke  swete, 
Withoute  whom,  I  you  behete, 
Mia  herte  that  is  so  bestadde 
Right  inly  never  may  be  gladde. 
For  by  my  trouth  I  shall  nought  lie 
Of  pure  sorwe  whiche  I  drie 1 
Forthatshe  saithshewillmenought, 
With    drecchinge2    of  min    owne 

thought 

In  suche  a  Wanhope  I  am  falle, 
That  I  ne  can  unnethes  calle 
As  for  to  speke  of  any  grace 
My  ladies  mercy  to  purchace. 
But  yet  I  saie  nought  for  this 
That  all  in  my  default  it  is 
That  I  cam  never  yet  in  stede 
Whan  time  was,  that  I  my  bede 
Ne  saide  and  as  I  dorste  tolde. 
But  never  found  I  that  she  wolde 
For  ought  she  knewe  of  min  entent 
To  speke  a  goodly  worde  assent. 
And  netheles  this  dare  I  say, 
That  if  a  sinfull  wolde  prey 
To  God  of  his  foryivenesse 
With  half  so  great  a  besinesse 
As  I  have  do  to  my  lady 
In  lack  of  axing  of  mercy, 
He  shulde  never  come  in  helle. 
And  thus  I  may  you  sothly  telle, 
Sauf  only  that  I  crie  and  bidde, 
I  am  in  Tristesse  all  amidde 
And  fulfilled  of  desperaunce. 
And  therof  yef  me  my  penaunce, 
Min  holy  fader,  as  you  liketh." — 
"  My  sone,  of  that  thin  herte  siketh 
With    sorwe    might    thou    nought 

amende, 

Till  Love  his  grace*  woll  thee  sende, 
For  thou  thin  owne  cause  empeirest 
What  time  as  thou  thy  self  despeirest. 
I  not  what  other  thinge  availeth 
Of  hope  whan  the  herte'  faileth, 
For  suche  a  sore  is  incurable, 
And  eke  the  goddes  ben  vengeable, 

1  Drie,  endure.  2  Drecchinge,  vexing. 


And  that  a  man  may   right   well 

frede,1 

These  olde  bokes  who  so  rede 
Of  thing  which  hath  befalle  er  this, 
Now  here,  of  what  ensample  it  is. 

^I)Uom  by  olde  daies  fer 
Of  Mese  was  the  king  Theucer, 
Whiche  had  a  knight  to  sone  Iphis. 
Of  love  and  he  so  mastred  is, 
That  he  hath  set  all  his  corage 
As  to  reward  of  his  lignage 
Upon  a  maide  of  lowe  estate. 
But  though  he  were  a  potestate 
Of  worldes  good,  he  was  subgit 
To  love  and  put  in  suche  a  plite 
That  he  excedeth  the  mesure 
Of  reson,  that  him  self  assure 
He  can  nought.      For  the  more  he 

praid, 

The  lasse  love  on  him  she  laid. 
He   was    with    love   unwise    con- 

streigned, 

And  she  with  reson  was  restreigned. 
The  lustes  of  his  herte  he  sueth, 
And  she  for  drede  shame  eschueth, 
And  as  she  shulde,  toke  good  hede 
To  save  and  kepe  her  womanhede. 
And  thus  the  thing  stood  in  debate 
Betwene  his  lust  and  her  estate, 
He  yaf,  he  send,  he  spake  by  mouth, 
But  yet  for  ought  that  ever  he  couth 
Unto  his  spede  he  found  no  wey, 
So  that  he  cast  his  hope  awey. 
Within  his  hert  he  gan  despeire 
Fro  day  to  day  and  so  empeire 
That  he  hath  lost  all  his  delite 
Of  lust,  of  slepe,  of  appetite, 
That  he  through  strength  of  love 

lasseth, 

His  v/it  and  reson  overpasseth 
As  he  whiche  of  his  life  ne  rought.2 
His  deth  upon  him  self  he  sought, 
So  that  by  night  his  wey  he  nam, 
There  wiste  none  where  he  becam. 


1  Frede,  feel. 


2  Rought,  recked. 


BOOK  IV.— SLOTH. 


215 


The  night  was  clerk,  there  shone 

no  mone, 

To-fore  the  gate's  he  cam  sone, 
Where  that  this  yonge'  maiden  was, 
And  with  thiswofullworde,  'Helas,' 
His  dcdly  pleinte's  he  began 
So  stille'  that  there  was  no  man 
It  herde,  and  than  he  saidd  thus : 
*  O  thou  Cupide,  O  thou  Venus, 
Fortuned  by  whose  ordenaunce 
Of  love  is  every  mannes  chaunce, 
Ye  knowen  all  min  hole  hert, 
That  I  ne  may  your  hond  astert, 
On  you  is  ever  that  I  crie, 
And  you  deigneth  nought  to  plie 
Ne  toward  me  your  ere  encline. 
Thus  for  I  se  no  medicine 
To  make  an  ende  of  my  quarele, 
My  deth  shall  be  in  stede  of  hele. 
Ha,  thou  my  wofull  lady  dere, 
Which  dwellest  with  thy  fader  here 
And  slepest  in  thy  bedde  at  ese, 
Thou  wost  nothing  of  my  disese, 
How  thou  and  I  be  now  unmete. 
Ha  lord,  what  sweven  shalt  thou 

mete  ? 
What  dreme's   hast   thou  now  on 

honde  ? 
Thou    slepest   there,   and   I    here 

stonde, 

Though  I  no  deth  to  thee  deserve. 
Here  shall  I  for  thy  lovd  sterve, 
Here  shall  I  a  kings  sond  deie 
For  love  and  for  no  felony  ; 
Where  thou  therof  ha ve  j oy  or  sorwe, 
Here   shalt    thou  se  me  dede  to 

morwe. 

O  herte  hard  aboven  alle, 
This  deth,  which  shall  to  me  befalle, 
For  that  thou  wol  nought  do  my 

grace, 

Yet  shall  be  tolde  in  many  a  place  ; 
That  I  am  dede  for  love  and  trouth 
In  thy  defaulte  and  in  thy  slouth, 
Thy  daunger  shall  to  many  mo 


Ensample  be  for  evermo, 
Whan  they  my  wofull  deth  recorde.' 
And  with  that  worde  he  toke  a  corde 
With  which  upon  the  gate*  tre 
He  henge  him  self,  that  was  pitd. 
The  morwe  cam,  the  night  is  gone, 
Men  comen  out  and  sigh  anone, 
Where  that  this  yonge  lord  was  dede. 
There  was  an  hous  withoutd  rede, 
For  no  man  kncwe  the  causd  why, 
There  was  wepfngd,  there  was  cry. 
This  maiden,  whan  that  she  it  herde 
And  sigh  this  thing  howe  it  mis- 

ferde, 

Anone  she  wiste  what  it  ment, 
And  all  the  cause  how  it  went 
To  all  the  world  she  tolde  it  out 
And  preith  to  hem  that  were  about 
To  take  of  her  the  vengeaunce, 
For  she  was  cause  of  thilke  chaunce 
Why  that  this  kingds  sone  is  spilt.1 
She  taketh  upon  her  self  the  gilt 
And  is  all  redy  to  the  peine 
Whiche  any  man  her  wold  ordeigne, 
And  but  if  any  other  wolde, 
She  saith,  that  she  her  selvd  sholde 
Do  wreche  with  her  owne  honde, 
Through  out  the  worlde  in  every 

londe 

That  every  life  2  therof  shall  speke 
How  she  her  self  it  shuldd  wreke. 
She  wepeth,  she  crieth,  she  swouneth 

ofte, 

She  cast  her  eyen  up  alofte 
And  said  among  full  pitously  : 
'  O  god,  thou  wost  wel  it  am  I, 
For  whom  Iphis  is  thus  beseine, 
Ordeigne'  so,  that  men  may  saine 
A  thousand  winter  after  this, 
How  suche  a  maiden  did  amis, 
And  as  I  didde  do  to  me 
For  I  ne  diddd  no  pite 
To  him  which  for  my  love  is  lore, 
Do  no  pitd  to  me  therfore.' 

1  Spilt,  destroyed.  2  Life,  body. 


216 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  with   this  word   she   fell   to 

grounde 
A    swoune,    and    there    she    lay 

astounde. 
"  The  godde"s,  which  her  pleintes 

herd 

And  sigh  how  wofully  she  ferd, 
Her  life  they  toke  awey  anone 
And  shopen  her  into  a  stone 
After  the  forme  of  her  ymdge 
Of  body  both  and  of  visage. 
And  for  the  merveile  of  this  thing 
Unto  this  place  came  the  king 
And  eke  the  quene  and  many  mo, 
And  whan  they  wisten  it  was  so, 
As  I  have  tolde  it  here  above, 
How  that  I  phis  was  dede  for  love 
Of  that  he  hadde  be  refused, 
They  helden  alle  men  excused 
And  wondren  upon  the  vengeaunce. 
And  for  to  kepe  remembraunce 
This  faire  ymage  maiden  liche, 
With  compaignid  noble  and  riche 
With  torche  and  great  solempnite 
To  Salamine  the  cite*, 
They  lede  and  carie  forth  withall 
This  dede  corps,  and  saine  it  shall 
Beside  thilke  ymdge  have 
His  sepulture  and  be  begrave.1 
This  corps  and  this  ymage  thus 
Into  the  cite  to  Venus, 
Where  that  goddesse  her  temple 

had, 

To-gider  bothe  two  they  lad. 
This  ilke  ymdge  as  for  miracle 
Was  set  upon  an  high  pindcle 
That  3.116  men  it  mighte*  knowe, 
And  under  that  they  maden  lowe 
A  tombe  riche"  for  the  nones 
Of  marbre  and  eke  of  jaspre  stones, 
Wherin  that  Iphis  was  beloken 
That  evermore  it  shall  be  spoken. 
And  for  men  shall  the  sothe  wite 
They  have  her  epitaphe  write 

1  Begrave,  buried. 


As  thing  which  shulde  abide  stable, 
The  letters  graven  in  a  table 
Of  marbre  were  and  saiden  this  : 
*  Here  lith,  which  sloughe  him  self, 

Iphis 

For  love  of  Araxarathen, 
And  in  ensample  of  tho  women 
That  suffren  men  to  deie  so, 
Her  forme  a  man  may  se  also, 
How  it  is  torned  flesshe  and  bone 
Into  the  figure  of  a  stone. 
He  was  to  neissh1  and  she  to  harde, 
Beware  forthy  here  afterwarde, 
Ye  men  and  women,  bothe  two, 
Ensampleth  you  of  that  was  tho.' 

"  Lo  thus,  my  sone,  as  I  thee  say 
It  greveth  by  diverse  way 
In  Desespeire  a  man  to  falle, 
Which  is  the  laste  braunch  of  alle 
Of  Slouthe,  asthouhast  herd  devise, 
Wherof  that  thou  thy  self  avise 
Good  is,  er  that  thou  be  deceived 
Wher  that   the  grace  of  hope  is 
weived." — 

"  My  fader,  how  so  that  it  stonde, 
Now  have  I  pleinly  understonde 
Of  Slouthes  Court  the  properte, 
Wherof  touchend  in  my  degre 
For  ever  I  thenke  to  beware. 
But  over  this  so  as  I  dare 
With  all  min  hert  I  you  beseche, 
That  ye  me  wolde  enforme  and  teche, 
What  there  is  more  of  your  apprise 
In  Love  als  well  as  otherwise, 
So  that  I  may  me  clene  shrive." — 

My  sone,  while  thou  art  alive 
And  hast  also  thy  mile  minde, 
Among  the  Vices,  which  I  finde, 
There  is  yet  one  such  of  the  Seven 
Which  all  this  world  hathsetuneven 
And  causeth  many  thinges  wronge 
Where  he  the  cause  hath  underfonge; 
Wherof  hereafter  thou  shalt  here 
The  forme  bothe  and  the  matere. 

1  Neissh,  delicate. 


Eoofe 


OF  AVARICE. 


first  whan  the  highe  God  began 
This  worlde  and  that  the  kind 

of  man 

Was  fall  into  no  gret  encress, 
For  worldes  good  was  tho 1  no  press 
But  all  was  set  to  the  comune, 
They  speken  than  of  no  fortune 
Or  for  to  lese  or  for  to  winne, 
Till  Avaric^  brought  it  inne. 
And  that  was  whan  the  world  was 

woxe 

Of  man,  of  hors,  of  shepe,  of  oxe, 
And  that  men  knewen  the  mondy, 
Tho  wente  pees  out  of  the  wey 
And  werre  came  on  every  side, 
Whiche  alle  love  laid  aside 
And  of  comun  his  propre  made, 
So  that  in  stede  of  shovel  and  spade 
The  sharp^  swerd  was  take  on  hon  de. 
And  in  this  wise  it  cam  to  londe 
Wherof  men  maden  diches  depe 
And  highe  walles  for  to  kepe 
The  gold  which  Avarice  encloseth. 
But  all  to  litel  him  supposeth, 
Though  he  might  all  the  world  pur 
chase. 

For  what  thing  that  he  may  embrace 
Of  golde,  of  catel  or  of  londe, 
He  let  it  never  out  of  his  honde, 
But  get  him  more  and  halt  it  fast, 
As  though  the  world  shuld  ever  last. 

1  Tho,  then. 


So  is  he  lich  unto  the  helle, 
For  as  these  olde  bokds  telle, 
What  cometh  ther  in  lass  or  more 
It  shall  depart^  nevermore. 
Thus  whan  he  hath  his  cofre  loken, 
It  shall  nought  after  ben  unstoken  1 
But  whan  him  list  to  have  a  sight 
Of  gold,  how  that  it  shineth  bright, 
That  he  theron  may  loke  and  muse, 
For  otherwise  he  dare  nought  use 
To  take  his  part  or  lasse  or  more. 
So  is  he  pouer,  and  evermore 
Him  lacketh  that  he  hath  inough. 
An  oxe'  draweth  in  the  plough 
Of  that  him  self  hath  no  proffte, 
A  shep  right  in  the  same  plite 
His  wolle  bereth,  but  on  a  day 
An  other  taketh  the  flees  away. 
Thus  hath  he,  that  he  nought  ne 

hath, 

For  he  tberof  his  part  ne  tath,2 
To  say  how  suche  a  man  hath  good 
Who  so  that  reson  understood 
It  is  unproperliche  said  ; 
That  good  hath  him  and  halt  him 


That  he  ne  gladdeth  nought  withall, 
But  is  unto  his  good  a  thrall 
And  a  subgit  ;  thus  serveth  he 
Where  that  he  shulde  maister  be  : 


1  Unstoken,  unbarred.        "  Tath,  taketh. 
3  Taid,  tied. 


2l8 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Suche  is  the  kinde  of  thavarous. 

"  My  sone,  as  thou  art  amorous. 
Tell  if  thou  fare  of  Love"  so." — 

"  My  fader,  as  it  semeth,  no, 
That  avarous  yet  never  I  was, 
So  as  ye  setten  me  the  cas. 
For  as  ye  tolden  here  above 
In  full  possession  of  love 
Yet  was  I  never  here  to-fore, 
So  that  me  thenketh  well  therfore 
I  may  excuse  well  my  dede. 
But  of  my  will  withoute  drede 
If  I  that  tresor  mighte  gete 
It  shulde  never  be  foryete 
That  I  ne  wolde  it  faste  holde. 
Till  God  of  Love  him  serve"  wolde 
That  deth  us  shuld  departe  atwo. 
For  leveth  well,  I  love  her  so, 
That  even  with  min  owne  life, 
If  I  that  swete  lusty  wife 
Might  ones  welden  at  my  wille, 
For  ever  I  wold  holde  her  stille. 
And  in  this  wise,  taketh  kepe, 
If  I  her  had  I  wolde  her  kepe ; 
And  yet  no  friday  wolde  I  fast, 
Though  I  her  kepte  and  helde  fast. 
Fy  on  the  bagges  in  the  kist, 
I  had  inough  if  I  her  kist. 
For  certes  if  she  were  min, 
I  had  her  lever  than  a  mine 
Of  gold,  for  all  this  worldes  riche 
Ne  mighte  make  me  so  riche 
As  she,  that  is  so  inly  good 
I  sette  nought  of  other  good  ; 
For  might  I  gett^  such  a  thing, 
I  had  a  tresor  for  a  king, 
And  though  I  wolde  it  fastd  holde, 
I  were*  thanne'  wel  beholde. 
But  I  might  pipe"  now  with  lasse 
And  suffre  that  it  overpasse, 
Nought  with  my  will,  for  thus   I 

wolde 

Ben  avarous  if  that  I  sholde. 
But  fader,  I  you  herde  say, 
How  thavarous  hath  yet  some  way, 


Wherof  he  may  be  glad.      For  he 
May,  whan  him  list,  his  tresor  se 
And  grope  and  fele  it  all  aboute. 
But  I  full  ofte  am  shet  theroute, 
There  as  my  worthy  tresor  is, 
So  is  my  life  lich  unto  this 
That  ye  me  tolden  here  to-fore, 
How  that  an  oxe  his  yoke  hath  bore 
For  thing  that  shulde  him  nought 

availe ; 

And  in  this  wise  I  me  travaile. 
For  who  that  ever  hath  the  welfare 
I  wot  wel  that  I  have  the  care, 
For  I  am  had  and  nought  ne  have 
And  am  as  who  saith  loves  knave. 
Now  demeth  in  your  owne  thought, 
If  this  be  avarice  or  nought." — 
"  My  sone,  I   have  of  thee  no 

wonder, 

Though  thou  to  serve  be  put  under 
With    Love,    which    to    kinde   ac- 

cordeth. 

But  so  as  every  boke  recordeth, 
It  is  to  finde  no  plesaunce 
That  man  above  his  sustenaunce 
Unto  the  gold  shall  serve  and  bowe, 
For  that  may  no  resdn  avowe. 
But  Avarice  nethe'les, 
If  he  may  geten  his  encres 
Of  gold,  that  wold  he  serve  and 

kepe, 
For    he    taketh   of    nought    elles 

kepe, 

But  for  to  fille  his  bagges  large ; 
And  all  is  to  him  but  a  charge, 
For  he  ne  parteth  nought  withall, 
But  kepeth  it  as  a  servaunt  shall, 
And  thus  though  that  he  multiply 
His  golde",  without  tresory 
He  is,  for  man  is  nought  amended 
With  gold  but  if  it  be  despended 
To  mannes  use,  wherof  I  rede 
A  tale  and  take  therof  good  hede 
Of  that  befell  by  olde  tide, 
As  telleth  us  the  clerke  Ovide. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


219 


which  is  the  god  of 

wine, 

Accordant  unto  his  divine 
A  prest  the  which  Cillenus  hight 
He  had,  and  fell  so,  that  by  night 
This  prest  was  drunke  and  goth 

astraied, 

Wherof  the  men  were  evil  apaied 
In  Phrigilond,  where  as  he  went. 
But  atte*  last  a  cherle  him  hent 
With  strength  of  other  felaship, 
So  that  upon  his  drunkeship 
They  bounden  him  with   cheines 

faste 

And  forth  they  lad  him  also  faste 
Unto  the  king,  which  highte  Mide. 
But  he  that  wolde  his  Vied  hide 
This  curteis  king  toke  of  him  hede 
And  bad,  that  men  him  shulde  lede 
Into  a  chambre  for  to  kepe, 
Till  he  of  leiser  hadde  slepe. 
And  tho  this  prest  was  sone  unbound 
And  up  a  couche  fro  the  ground 
To  slepe  he  was  laid  soft  inough. 
And  whan  he  woke,  the  king  him 

drough 

To  his  presence  and  did  him  chere, 
So  that  this  prest  in  such  manere 
While  that  him  liketh  ther  he 

dwelleth, 

And  al  this  he  to  Bachus  telleth 
Whan  that  he  cam  to  him  ayein. 
And  whan  that  Bachus  herdd  sain 
How  Mide  hath  done  his  curtesy, 
Him  thenketh,  it  were  a  vilany 
But  he  reward  him  for  his  dede, 
So  as  he  might  of  his  godhede. 
Unto  this  king  this  god  appereth 
And  clepeth,  and  that  other  hereth. 
This  god  to  Midd  thonketh  faire 
Of  that  he  was  so  debonaire 
Toward  his  prest,  and  bad  him  say 
What  thinge  it  were  he  woldd  pray 
He  shulde  it  have,  of  worlde's  good. 
This  king  was  glad  and  stilld  stood 


And  was  of  his  axfnge  in  double 
And  all  the  worlde  he  cast  aboute, 
What  thing  was  best  for  his  estate. 
And  with  him  self  stood  in  debate 
Upon  thre  pointed,  which  I  finde 
Ben  levest  unto  manne's  kinde. 
The  first  of  hem  it  is  delite, 
The  two  ben  worship  and  profile. 
And  than  he  thought,  if  that  I  crave 
Delite,  though  I  delite  may  have, 
Delite  shall  passen  in  my  age  ; 
That  is  no  siker  avauntage. 
For  every  joie'  bodely 
Shall  ende  in  wo,  delite  forth y 
Woll  I  nought  chese.  And  if  worship 
I  axe  and  of  the  world  lordship, 
That  is  an  occupation 
Of  proude  ymagination, 
Which  maketh  an  herte'  vein  with- 

inne; 

There  is  no  certain  for  to  winne, 
For  lorde  and  knave  is  all  o  wey 
Whan  they  be  bore  and  whan  they 

deie. 

And  if  I  profile  ax£  wolde, 
I  not  in  what  mane'r  I  sholde 
Of  worlde's  good  have  sikernesse, 
For  every  thefe  upon  richesse 
Awaiteth  for  to  robbe  and  stele. 
Such  good  is  cause  of  harme's  fele  ; 
And  also  though  a  man  at  ones 
Of  all  Ihe  world  within  his  wones l 
The  tresor  might  have  every  dele, 
Yet  had  he  but  one  manne's  dele 
Toward  him  self,  so  as  I  thinke, 
Of  clothing  and  of  mete  and  drinke, 
For  more,  out  take  vanitd, 
There  hath  no  lord  in  his  degre. 
And    thus    upon   these   points 

diverse 

Diverselich  he  gan  reherce, 
What  point  it  thought  him  for  the 

best. 
But  pleinly  for  to  get  him  rest 

1  Wones,  dwellings. 


220 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


He  can  no  siker  waie  cast, 
And  netheles  yet  atte  laste 
He  fell  upon  the  covetise 
Of  gold,  and  than  in  sondry  wise 
He  thought,  as  I  have  said  to-fore, 
How  tresor  may  be  sone  lore, 
And  hadde  an  inly  great  desir 
Touchende  of  such  recoverfr, 
How  that  he  might  his  cause  availe 
To  gete  him  gold  withoute  faile. 
Within  his  hert  and  thus  he  preiseth 
The  gold,  and  saith  how  that  he 

peiseth 

Above  all  other  metal  most. 
The  gold,  he  saith,  may  lede  an 

hoste 

To  make*  werre  ayein  a  king, 
The  gold  put  under  alle  thing 
And  set  it  whan  him  list  above, 
The  gold  can  make  of  hate*  love 
And  werreof  pees  andright  of  wrong 
And  long  to  short  and  short  to  long. 
Without^  gold  may  be  no  fest, 
Gold  is  the  lord  of  man  and  best 
And  may  hem  bothe  beie  and  selle, 
So  that  a  man  may  sothly  telle 
That  all  the  world  to  golde  obeieth. 
"  Forthy   this    king    to   Bachus 

preieth 
To  graunt  him  gold,   but  he   ex- 

cedeth 

Mesure'  more*  than  him  nedeth. 
Men  tellen,  that  the  malady, 
Which  cleped  is  ydropesy 
Resembled  is  unto  this  Vice 
By  way  of  kinde  of  Avarice. 
The  more  ydropesie  drinketh, 
The  more  him  thursteth,  for  him 

thinketh 

That  he  may  never  drink  his  fille. 
So  that  there  may  no  thing  fulfille 
The  lustes  of  his  appetite, 
And  right  in  such  a  maner  plite 
Stant  Avarice  and  ever  stood  ; 
The  more  he  hath  of  worlde"s  good, 


The  more  he  wolde  it  kepe  streite 
And  ever  more  and  more  coveite, 
And  right  in  such  condition 
Withoute*  good  discretion 
This  king  with  Avarice  is  smitte, 
That  all  the  worlde  it  might^  witte. 
For  he  to  Bachus  thanne  preide, 
That  therupon  his  honde  he  leide, 
It  shulde*  through  his  touche  anone 
Become  gold  ;  and  therupon 
This  god  him  graunteth  as  he  bad. 
Tho  was  this  kinge  of  Phrige  glad. 
And  for  to  put  it  in  assay 
With  all  the  haste  that  he  may 
He  toucheth  that,  he  toucheth  this, 
And  in  his  hond  all  gold  it  is ; 
The  stone,  the  tre,  the  leef,  the  gras, 
The  flour,  the  fruit,  all  gold  it  was. 
Thus  toucheth  he  while  he  may  laste 
To  go,  but  hunger  atte'  laste 
Him  toke  so,  that  he  must  nede 
By  wey  of  kinde  his  hunger  fede. 
The  cloth  was  laid,  the  bord  was  set 
And  all  was  forth  to-fore  him  set 
His  dissh,  his  cup,  his  drink,  his 

mete, 

But  whan  he  wolde  or  drinke  or  etc 
Anone  as  it  his  mouth  cam  nigh 
It  was  all  gold,  and  than  he  sigh 
Of  Avarice  the  folie. 
And  he  with  that  began  to  crie 
And  preide  Bachus  to  foryive 
His  gilt  and  suffre  him  for  to  live 
And  be  such  as  he  was  to-fore, 
So  that  he  were  nought  forlore. 
This  god  which  herd  of  this  gre- 

vaunce 

Toke  routhe  upon  his  repentaunce 
And  bad  him  go  forth  redely 
Unto  a  flood  was  faste  by, 
The  which  Pactole  thanne  hight, 
In  whiche  als  clene  as  ever  he  might 
He  shuld  him  wasshen  overall, 
And  said  him  thanne  that  he  shall 
Recover  his  first  estate  ayein. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


221 


This  king  right  as  he  herde*  sain 
Into  the  flood  goth  fro  the  lond 
And  wissh  him  bothe*  fote  and  hond, 
And  so  forth  all  the  remenaunt 
As  him  was  set  in  covenaunt. 
And  than  he  sigh  merveile's  straunge, 
The  flood  hiscolourgan  to  chaunge, 
The  gravel  with  the  smale  stones 
To  gold  they  torne  both  atones, 
And  he  was  quite  of  that  he  hadde, 
And  thusFortunehischaunceladde. 
And  whan  he  sigh  his  touch  awey, 
He  goth  him  home  the  righte  wey 
And  liveth  forth  as  he  did  er 
And  put  all  Avarice  afer 
And  the  richesse  of  gold  despiseth 
And    saith,   that   mete  and  cloth 

suffiseth.   * 

Thus  hath  this  king  experience, 
How  fooles  done  the  reverence 
To  gold,  which  of  his  owne*  kinde 
Is  lasse  worth  than  is  the  rinde 
To  sustenaunce  of  mannes  food. 
And  than  he  made  lawes  good 
And  all  his  thing  set  upon  skille, 
He  bad  his  people  for  to  tille 
Her  lond  and  live  under  the  lawe, 
Andthattheyshuldealsoforthdrawe 
Bestaile  and  scene*  none  encrees 
Of  gold,  whiche  isthebrecheof  pees. 
For  this  a  man  may  finde  write, 
To-fore  the  time,  er  gold  was  smite 
In    coigne,   that   men   the  florein 

knewe, 

There  was  wel  nighe  no  man  untre  we. 
Tho  was  there  nouther  shield  ne 

spere 

Ne  dedly  wepen  for  to  bere ; 
Tho  was  the  town  withouten  walle, 
Whiche  nowe  is  closdd  over  alle  ; 
Tho  was  there  no  brocage  in  lond, 
Which  now  taketh  every  cause  on 

hond. 

So  may  men  knowe  how  the  florein 
Was  moder  first  of  malengfn 


And  bringer  in  of  alle"  werre, 
Wherofthisworldstantoutofherre,1 
Through  the  counseil  of  Avarice, 
Whiche  of  his  owne*  propre*  Vice 
Is  as  the  helle'  wonderful, 
For  it  may  nevermore  be  full, 
That  what  as  ever  cometh  therinne 
Awey  ne  may  it  never  winne. 

"Butsone"min,  do  thou  nought  so, 
Let  all  suche  Avarice*  go 
And  take  thy  part  of  that  thou  hast. 
I  bidde"  nought  that  thou  do  \vast, 
But  hold  largesse  in  his  mesure. 
And  if  thou  se  a  creature, 
\Vhich  through  pouerte  is  falle  in 

nede, 

Yef  him  some  good,  for  this  I  rede 
To  him  that  wol  nought  yeven  here 
What  peinehe  shal  have  elles  where. 
There  is  a  pein  amonges  alle 
Benethe  in  helle",  which  men  calle 
The  wofull  peine  of  Tantaly, 
Of  which  I  shall  thee  redely 
Devise  how  men  therin  stonde. 
In  helle"  thou  shall  understonde 
There  is  a  flood  of  thilk  office, 
Which  serveth  all  for  Avarice. 
What  man  that  stonde  shall  therinne 
He  slant  up  even  to  the  chinne, 
Above  his  nede  also  there  hongeth 
A  fruit  which  to  that  peine  longeth, 
And  that  fruit  toucheth  ever  in  one 
His  overlippe,  and  iherupon 
Such  thirst  and  hunger  him  as- 

sailelh, 

Thai  never  his  appelile  ne  faileth. 
But  whan  he  wolde  his  hunger  fede 
The  fruit  withdraweth  him  at  nede, 
Andthoughhe  hevehis  hedeon  high 
The  fruit  is  ever  aliche"  nigh, 
So  is  the  hunger  wel  the  more. 
And  also  ihough  him  thurste  sore 
And  to  the  waler  bowe  adown, 
The  flood  in  such  condition 

1  Unhinged. 


222 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Avaleth,1  that  his  drinke  arecche 
He  may  nought.     Lo  now,  whiche 

a  wreche, 

Thatmeteanddrinkeis  him  so  couth 
And  yet  ther  cometh  none  in  his 

mouth  ! 

Lich  to  the  peines  of  this  flood 
Stant  Avarice  in  worldes  good, 
He  hath  inoughand  yet  himnedeth, 
For  his  scarcene"sse  it  himforbedeth 
And  ever  his  hunger  after  more 
Travaileth  him  aliche  sore, 
So  is  he  peine"d  overall. 
Forth^  thy  goodes  forth  withal, 
My  sone,  loke  thou  despende, 
Wherof  thou  might  thy  self  amende 
Both  here  and  eke  in  other  place. 
And  also  if  thou  wolt  purchase 
To  be  beloved,  thou  must  use 
Largesse,  for  if  thou  refuse 
To  yive  for  thy  loves  sake, 
It  is  no  reson  that  thou  take 
Of  love  that  thou  woldest  crave. 
Forthy  if  thou  wolt  grace  have, 
Be  gracious  and  do  largesse, 
Of  Avarice  and  2  the  sikenesse 
Escheue  above  all  other  thinge, 
And  take  ensample  of  Mide  the  kinge 
And  of  the  flood  of  helle  also, 
Where  is  inough  of  alle  wo. 
And  though  there  were  no  matere 
But  onely  that  we  finden  here, 
Men  oughten  Avarice  eschue ; 
For  what  man  thilke  Vice  sue, 
He  gete  him  self  but  litel  rest. 
For  how  so  that  the  body  rest, 
The  hert  upon  the  gold  travaileth, 
Whom  many  a  nightes  drede  as- 

saileth. 

For  though  he  ligge  a  bedde  naked, 
His  herte  is  evermore  awaked 
And  dremeth  as  he  lith  to  slepe 

1  Avaleth,  goes  lower. 

2  Of  Avarice  and,  &c. ;  And  Escheue,  &c. 
See  note,  page  61.    This  construction  is  fre 
quent  throughout  the  poem. 


How  besy  that  he  is  to  kepe 
His  tresor,  that  no  thefe  it  stele ; 
Thus  hath  he  but  a  wofull  wele. 
And  right  so  in  the  same  wise, 
If  thou  thy  self  wolt  wel  avise, 
There  be  lovers  of  suche  inow, 
That  wollen  unto  reson  bowe 
If  so  be  that  they  come  above, 
Whan  they  ben  maisters  of  her  love 
And  that  they  shulden  be  most  glad 
With  love,  they  ben  most  bestad, 
So  fain  they  wolden  holde  it  all. 
Her  herte,  her  eye  is  overall, 
And  wenen  every  man  be  thefe 
To  stele  awey  that  hem  is  lefe  ; 
Thus  through  her  owne  fantasy 
They  fallen  into  jelousy. 
Than  hath  the  ship  to-brokhis cable 
With    every  winde    and    is    mev- 
able."  !— 

"  My  fader,  for  that  ye  now  telle, 
I  have  herd  oftetime  telle 
Of  Jelousy,  but  what  it  is 
Yet  understode  I  never  er  this, 
Wherfore  I  wolde  you  beseche, 
That  yemewoldeenforme  andteche 
What  maner  thing  it  mighte  be." — • 

"  ^Tj>  sone,  that  is  hard  to  rne, 
But  netheles  as  I  have  herd 
Now    herke,    and    thou    shalt    be 
answerd. 

Among  the  men  lack  of  manhode 
In  maridge  upon  wif-hode 
Maketh  that  a  man  him  self  de- 

ceiveth, 

Wherof  it  is  that  he  conceiveth 
That  ilke  unsely  malady, 
The  whiche  is  cleped  Jelousy, 
Of  whiche  if  I  the  proprete 
Shall  telle  after  the  nicete 
So  as  it  worcheth  on  a  man, — 
A  fever  it  is  cotidian, 
Whiche  every  day  wol  come  aboute 
Where  so  a  man  be  in  or  oute, 

1  And  is  tv.  be  moved  by  every  wind. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


223 


At  home  if  that  a  man  wol  wone 
This  fever  is  than  of  comun  wone1 
Most  grevous  in  a  mannes  eye, 
For  than  he  maketh  him  tote  and 

pry; 

Where  so  as  ever  his  lovd  go, 
She  shall  nought  with  her  litel  toe 
Misteppd,  but  he  se  it  all. 
His  eye  is  walkend  overall, 
Where  that  she  singe  or  that  she 

daunce, 

He  seeth  the  leste*  countenaunce ; 
If  she  loke  on  a  man  aside 
Or  with  him  rowne  at  any  tide, 
Or  that  she  laugh  or  that  she  loure, 
His  eye  is  there  at  every  houre. 
And  whan  it  draweth  to  the  night, 
If  she  than  be  withoute  light, 
Anone  is  all  the  gamd  shent. 
For  than  he  set  his  parlement 
To  speke  it  whan  he  cometh  to  bed 
And  saith  :   *  If  I  were  now  to  wed, 
I  wolde  never  more  have  wife.' 
And  so  he  torneth  into  strife 
The  lust  of  love's  duetd 
And  al  upon  diversitd. 
If  she  be  fresshe  and  well  arraied, 
He  saith  her  banner  is  desplaied 
To  clepe  in  gestes  by  the  way ; 
And  if  she  be  nought  wel  besey  2 
And  that  her  list  nought  to  be  glad, 
He  bereth  on  honde  that  she  is 

mad 

And  loveth  nought  her  husebonde  ; 
He  saith,  he  may  wel  understonde, 
That  if  she  wolde  his  compaignie, 
She  shulde  than  afore  his  eye 
Shew  all  the  plesure  that  she  might. 
So  that  by  dai£  ne  by  night 
She  not  what  thing  is  for  the  best, 
But  liveth  out  of  alle  rest. 
For  what  as  ever  him  list  to  sain, 
She   dare   nought  speke  o  worde 
ayein, 

1  Wone,  custom.  2  Btsey,  clothed. 


But  wepeth  and  holt   her  lippe's 

close.       • 

She  may  wel  writ<5,  *  Sans  repose,' 
The  wife,  which  is    to  such  one 

maried. 

Of  alld  women  be  he  waried,1 
For  with  his  fever  of  jelousy 
His  eche'  daids  fantasy 
Of  sorwe  is  ever  aliche'  grene, 
So  that  there  is  no  love'  sene 
While  that  him  list  at  home  abide. 
And  whan  so  is  he  woll  out  ride, 
Than  hath  he  redy  his  aspy 
Abiding  in  her  compaigny 
A  jangler,  an  ill  mouthe'd  one, 
That  she  ne  may  no  whider  gone 
Ne  speke  o  word,  ne  one's  loke, 
But  he  ne  wol  it  wende  and  croke 
And  torne  after  his  owne  entent, 
Though  she  no  thing  but  honour 

ment. 
Whan  that  the  lord  cometh  home 

ayein 

The  jangler  muste*  somwhat  sain. 
So  what  withoute  andwhatwithinnc 
This  fever  is  ever  to  beginne, 
For  where  he  cometh  he  can  nought 

ende 

Til  deth  of  him  hath  made  an  ende. 
For  though  so  be  that  he  ne  here, 
Ne  se,  ne  wite,  in  no  manere 
But  all  honoiire  and  womanhede, 
Therof  the  jelous  taketh  none  hede, 
But  as  a  man  to  Love  unkinde 
He  cast  his  stafe  and  as  the  blinde 
And  fint  defaulte  where  is  none ; 
As  who  so  dremeth  on  a  stone 
How  he  is  laid,  and  groneth  ofte 
Whan  he  lieth  on  his  pilwes  softe. 
So  is  there  nought  but  strife  and 

chest, 

Whan  Love*  shulde  make  his  fest. 
I  wot  the  time  is  ofte  cursed, 
That  ever  was  the  gold  unpurscd, 

1  Waried,  cursed. 


224 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  which  was  laid  upon  the  boke, 
Whan  that  all  other  she  forsoke 
For  love  of  him,  but  all  to  late 
She  pleigneth,  for  as  than  algate 
She  mot  forbere  and  to  him  bowe, 
Though  he  ne  wolde  that  allowe ; 
For  man  is  lord  of  thilke  faire, 
So  may  the  woman  but  empeire 
If  she  speke  ought  ayein  his  wille, 
And  thus  she  bereth  her  peine  stille. 
But  if  this  fever  a  woman  take 
She  shall  be  wel  more  harde  shake, 
For  though  she  bothe  se  and  here 
And  finde  that  there  is  no  matere, 
She  dare  but  to  her  selve  pleigne, 
And  thus  she  suffreth  double  peine. 
"Lo  thus,  my  sone,  as  I  have 

write, 

Thou  might  of  jelousie  wite 
His  fever  and  his  condicibn, 
Which  is  full  of  suspicion. 
But  wherof  that  this  fever  groweth, 
Who  so  these  olde  bokes  troweth, 
There  may  he  finde  how  it  is. 
For  they  us  teche  and  telle  this, 
How  that  this  fever  of  jelousy 
Somdele  it  groweth  of  soty l 
Of  love  and  somdele  of  untrust. 
For  as  a  sikman  lest  his  lust,2 
And  whan  he  may  no  savour  gete 
He  hateth  than  his  owne  mete, 
Right  so  this  feverous  malady, 
Which  caused  is  of  fantasy, 
Maketh  the  jelous  in  feble  plite 
To  lese  of  love  his  appetite 
Through  feigned  enformacion 
Of  his  ymaginacion. 
But  finally  to  taken  hede 
Men  may  wel  make  a  liklyhede 
Betwene  him  whiche  is  avarous 
Of  golde  and  him  that  is  jelous 
Of  love,  for  in  o  degr.e 
They  stonde  both,  as  semeth  me  ; 

1  Soty  (sottise),  folly. 

2  Loses  his  enjoyment. 


That  one  wold  have  his  bagges  still 
And  nought  departen  *  with  his  will 
And  dare  nought  for  the  theves  slepe 
So  faine  he  wolde  his  tresor  kepe ; 
That  other  may  nought  well  be  glad, 
For  he  is  evermore  adrad 
Of  these  lovers  that  gone  aboute, 
In  aunter  if  they  put  him  oute. 
So  have  they  bothe  litel  joy 
As  wel  of  love  as  of  money. 

"  Now  hast  thou,  sone,  of  my 

teching 

Of  jelousy  a  knouleching, 
That  thou  might  understonde  this, 
Fro  whenne  he  cometh  and  what 

he  is, 

And  eke  to  whom  that  he  is  like. 
Beware  forthy  thou  be  not  sike 
Of  thilke  fever,  as  I  have  spoke, 
For  it  woll  in  him  self  be  wroke. 
For  Love  hateth  no  thing  more, 
As  men  may  finde"  by  the  lore 
Of  hem  that  whilom  were  wise, 
How    that    they    speke    in    many 
wise." — 

"  My  fader,  soth  is  that  ye  sain  ; 
But  for  to  loke  there  ayein 
Before  this  time  how  it  is  falle, 
Wherof  there  might  ensample  falle 
To  suche  men  as  ben  jelous 
In  what  maner  it  is  grevous, 
Right     fain     I     wolde     ensample 
here."— 

"  My  gode  sone,  at  thy  praiere 
Of  suche  ensamples  as  I  finde, 
So  as  they  comen  now  to  minde 
Upon  this  point  of  time  gone, 
I  thenke  for  to  tellen  one. 

0mo£  wrote  of  many  thinges, 
Among  the  whiche  in  his  writinges 
He  told  a  tale  in  poesy, 
Which  toucheth  unto  jelousy 
Upon  a  certain  cas  of  Love. 
Among  the  goddes  al  above 

1  Departen,  distribute. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


225 


It  felle  at  thilkc  time  thus. 
The  god  of  fire,  which  Vulcanus 
Is  hote  and  hath  a  craft  forth  with 
Assigned  for  to  be  the  smith 
Of  Jupiter,  and  his  figure 
Both  of  visdge  and  of  stature 
Is  lothly  and  malgracious  ; 
But  yet  he  hath  within  his  hous 
As  for  the  liking  of  his  life 
The  faire  Venus  to  his  wife. 
But  Mars,  which  of  bataille's  is 
The  god,  an  eye  had  unto  this, 
As  he  which  was  chivalerous. 
It  felle  him  to  ben  amorous, 
And  thought  it  was  a  great  pite 
To  se  so  lusty  one  as  she 
Be  coupled  with  so  lourd1  a  wight, 
So  that  his  peind  day  and  night 
He  did,  if  he  her  winne  might. 
And  she  that  had  a  good  insight 
Toward  so  noble  a  knightly  lord 
In  love'  fel  of  his  accord. 
There  lacketh  nought  but  time  and 

place, 

That  he  nis  siker  of  her  grace. 
But  whan  two  herte's  fallen  in  one, 
So  wise  a  wait 2  was  never  none 
That  at  sometime  they  ne  mete ; 
And  thus  this  faire  lusty  swete 
With  Mars  hath  ofte'  compaigny. 
But  thilke  unkind^  jelousy, 
Which  evermore  the  herteopposeth, 
Maketh  Vulcanus  that  he  supposeth 
That  it  is  nought  wel  overall ; 
And  to  him  self  he  said,  he  shall 
Aspic"  better,  if  that  he  may. 
And  so  it  felle  upon  a  day, 
That  he  this  thing  sosleightlyledde, 
He  founde  hem  bothe*  two  abedde. 
With    stronge    cheine's    he    hem 

bounde, 

As  he  to-grder  hem  had  founde, 
And  left£  hem  both  ligg£  so 
And  gan  to  clepe  and  crid  tho 

1  LourJ,  dull,  heavy.        *  Wait,  watch. 


Unto  the  goddes  all  aboute. 
And  they  assembled  in  a  route 
Come  all  at  one's  for  to  se, 
But  none  amende's  hadde  he, 
But  was  rebuke'd  here  and  there 
Of  hem  that  love's  frende's  were, 
And  saiden  that  he  was  to  blame, 
For  if  there  felle  him  any  shame 
It  was  through  his  misgovernaunce, 
And  thus  he  lost£  contenaunce 
This  god  and  let  his  causd  falle, 
And  they  toscorne  him  laughen  alle. 

Forthy  my  sone,  in  thine  office 
Beware,  that  thou  be  nought  jelous, 
Whiche  ofte  time  hath  shent  the 
hous."— 

"My fader, this  ensample  is  hard, 
How  such  thing  to  the  hevenward 
Among  the  goddes  mightd  falle. 
For  there  is  but  o  god  of  alle, 
Which  is  the  lord  of  heven  and  helle. 
But  if  it  like*  you  to  telle 
How  such£  godde*s  come  aplace, 
Ye  mighten  mochel  thank  purchace, 
For   I    shall  be  wel    taught  with- 
all." — 

"  My  sone,  it  is  thus  overall 
With  hem,  that  stonden  misbeleved, 
That  suche"  godde's  ben  beleved 
In  sondry  place"  sondry  wise. 
Amonge's  hem  which  be  unwise, 
There  is  betaken  of  credence, 
Wherof  that  I  the  difference 
In  the  mane"r  as  it  is  write 
Shall  do  thee  pleinly  for  to  wite. 

"  §r  §rist  was  bore  among  us 

/  here 

Of  the  beleves  that  tho  were, 
In  foure*  forme's  thus  it  was. 
They  of  Caldee  as  in  this  cas 
Had  a  belevd  by  hem  selve, 
Which  stood  upon  the  signe*s  twelve, 
Forth  eke  with  the  planete's  seven, 
Whiche  as  they  sighen  upon  the 
heven 


226 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  sondry  constellation 
In  her  ymaginacion 
With  sondry  kerfe  and  portreture 
They  made  of  goddes  the  figure. 
In  thelementes  and  eke  also 
They  hadden  a  beleve  tho. 
And  all  was  that  unresondble, 
For  thelementes  ben  servisa"ble 
To  man.     And  ofte  of  accidence, 
As  men  may  se  thexperience, 
They  ben  corrupt  by  sondry  way, 
So  may  no  mannes  reson  say 
That  they  ben  god  in  any  wise. 
And  eke  if  men  hem  wel  avise, 
The  sonne  and  mone  eclipsen  both, 
That  be  hem  lef  or  be  hem  loth 
They  sufifre,  and  what  thing  is  pas 
sible  i 

To  ben  a  god  is  inpossible. 
These  elements  ben  creatures, 
So  ben  these  hevenly  figures, 
Wherof  may  wel  be  justified, 
That  they  may  nought  ben  deified. 
And  who  that  taketh  away  thonour, 
Which  due  is  to  the  creatour, 
And  yiveth  it  to  the  creature, 
He  doth  to  great  a  forfeiture. 
But  of  Caldee  netheles 
Upon  this  feith  though  it  be  lesse 
They  holde  affermed  the  creaunce, 
So  that  of  helle  the  penaunce, 
As  folk  which  stant  out  of  beleve, 
They  shall  receive,  as  we  beleve. 

"  Of  the  Caldees  so  in  this  wise 
Stant  the  beleve  out  of  assise. 
But  in  Egipte  worst  of  alle 
The  feith  is  fals,  how  so  it  falle, 
For  they  diverse  beste's  there 
Honour,  as  though  they  goddes  were. 
And  nethe'lesse  yet  forth  withall 
Thre  goddes  most  in  speciall 
They  have  forth  with  a  goddesse, 
In  whome  is  all  her  sikernesse. 
Tho  goddes  be  yet  cleped  thus 

1  Passible^  capable  of  :uffering. 


Orus,  Tiphon  and  Isirus. 
They  were  brethren  alle  thre 
And  the  goddesse  in  her  degre 
Her  suster  was  and  Ysis  hight, 
Whom  Isirus  forlay  by  night 
And  helde  her  after  as  his  wife. 
So  it  befell,  that  upon  strife 
Tiphon  hath  Isre  his  brother  slain, 
Which  had  a  child  to  sone,  Orain, 
And  he  his  faders  deth  to  herte 
So  toke,  that  it  may  nought  asterte 
That  he  Tiphon  after  ne  slough, 
Whan  he  was  ripe  of  age  inough. 
But  yet  thegipcienes  trowe 
For  all  this  errour,  which  they  kno  we, 
That  these  brethern  ben  of  might 
To  sette  and  kepe  Egipt  upright 
And  overthrowe  if  that  hem  like. 
But  Ysis,  as  saith  the  cronique, 
Fro  Grece  into  Egipte  cam 
And  she  than  upon  honde  nam 
To  teche  hem  for  to  sowe  and  ere, 
Which  no  man  knew  to-fore  there. 
And  whanne  thegipciens  sigh 
The  feldes  full  afore  her  eye, 
And  that  the  lond  began  to  greine, 
Which  whilom  hadde  be  bareine, 
For  therthe  bare  after  the  kinde 
His  due  charge,  this  I  finde, 
That  she  of  berthe  the  goddesse 
Is  cleped,  so  that  in  distresse 
The  women  therupon  childing 
To  her  they  clepe  and  her  offring 
They  beren  whan  that  they  ben  light. 
Lo,  howe  Egipt  all  out  of  sight 
Fro  reson  stant  in  misbeleve, 
For  lacke  of  lore  as  I  beleve. 

* '  Among  the  Grekes  out  of  the  wey 
As  they  that  reson  put  awey 
There  was,  as  the  cronique  saith, 
Of  misbeleve  an  other  feith, 
That  they  her  goddes  and- goddesses 
As  who  saith  token  all  to  gesses 
Of  suche  as  weren  full  of  vice, 
To  whom  they  made  sacrifice. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


227 


"The   Highd  God,  so  as  they 

saidc, 

To  whom  they  mostc  worship  laide, 
Saturnus  hight,  and  king  of  Crete 
He  hadde*  be.     But  of  his  sete 
He  was  put  down  as  he  which  stood 
In  frene'sy  and  was  so  wode  l 
That  fro  his  wife,  which  Rea  hight, 
His  owne*  children  he  to  plight  2 
And  etc  hem  of  his  comune  wone.8 
But  Jupiter,  which  was  his  sone 
And  of  full  age,  his  fader  bonde 
And  kut  of  with  his  owne*  honde 
His  genitals,  whiche  also  faste 
Into  the  depd  see  he  caste, 
Wherof  the  Grekes  afferme  and  say 
That,  whan  they  were  cast  awey 
Came  Venus  forth  by  wey  of  kinde. 
And  of  Saturne  also  I  finde, 
Howe  afterwarde  into  an  ile 
This  Jupiter  him  didde  exile, 
Where  that  he  stood  in  great  mis- 

chefe. 

Lo,  what  a  god  they  maden  chefe  ! 
And  sithen  that  suche  one  was  he 
Which  stood  most  high  in  his  degre 
Among  the  godd<5s,thou  might  know 
These  other  that  ben  more  low 
Ben  litel  worth,  as  it  is  founde. 

"  For  Jupiter  was  the  secoiinde, 
Whiche  Juno  had  unto  his  wife. 
And  yet  a  lechour  all  his  life 
He  was  and  in  avouterie  4 
He  wroughte  many  a  trecherie. 
And  for  he  was  so  full  of  vices, 
They  clepdd  him  God  of  Deliccs, 
Of  whom  if  thou  wolt  more  wite 
Ovide*  the  poete  hath  write. 
But  yet  her  sterres  bothe'  two 
Saturne  and  Jupiter  also 
They  have,  although  they  ben  to 

blame, 
Attitled  to  her  owne*  name. 

1   Wodf,  mad.     -  To  plight,  plucked  to  pieces. 
3  Of  his  cotiiunc  ivotif,  as  his  usual  custom. 
*  Avouterie,  adultery. 


"  Mars  was  an  other  in  that  lawe, 
The  which  in  DactS  was  forth  drawe, 
Of  whom  the  clerk  Vegecius 
Wrote  in  his  boke  and  tolde*  thus, 
Howe  he  into  Itail^  came 
And  such  fortune*  there  he  nam, 
That  he  a  maiden  hath  oppressed. 
Whiche  in  her  ordre  was  professed 
As  she  which  was  the  prioresse 
In  Vestes  temple  the  goddesse, 
So  was  she  well  the  more  to  blame. 
Dame  Ylia  this  ladye  name 
Men  clepe,  and  eke  she  was  also 
The  kinge's  doughter,  that  was  tho, 
Which  Minitor  by  name*  hight. 
So  that  ayein  the  lawes  right 
Mars  thilke'  time  upon  her  that 
Remus  and  Romulus  begat, 
Whiche  after,  whan  they  come  in 

age, 

Of  knighthode  and  of  vassellage 
Itaile  al  hole  they  overcome 
And  foundeden  the  gretd  Rome. 
In  arme's  and  of  suche  emprise 
They  weren,  that  in  thilke*  wise 
Her  fader  Mars  for  the  merveile 
The  God  is  clepdd  of  Bataile. 
They  were  his  children  bothe  two, 
Through  hem  he  toke  his  namd  so, 
There  was  none  other  cause*  why. 
And  yet  a  sterre  upon  the  sky 
He  hath  unto  his  name  applied, 
In  which  that  he  is  signified. 

"  An  other  god  they  hadden  eke, 
To  whom  for  counseil  they  beseke, 
The  which  was  brother  to  Venus, 
Apollo  men  him  clepe  thus. 
He  was  an  hunte  upon  the  hilles, 
There  was  with  him  no  vertue  elles 
Wherof  that  any  boke's  carpe, 
But  only  that  he  couthd  harpe, 
Which  whan  he  walked  over  londe 
Full  ofte*  time  he  toke  on  honde 
To  get  him  with  his  sustenaiince 
For  lack  of  other  purveaunce. 


228 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  otherwhile  of  his  falshede 
He  feigneth  him  to  conne  arcde 
Of  thing  which  afterward  shuldfalle, 
Wherof  among  his  sleighte*s  alle 
He  hath  the  leude* 1  folk  deceived, 
So  that  the  better  he  was  received. 
Lo  now,  through  what  creacion 
He  hath  deification 
And  cleped  is  the  God  of  Wit, 
To  suche  as  be  the  fooled  yet. 
"An  other  god,  to  whom  they 

sought, 

Mercuric  hight,  and  him  ne  rought 
What  thing  he  stale,  ne  whom  he 

slough. 

Of  sorcery  he  couthe  inough, 
That  whan  he  wold  him  self  trans- 
forme, 

Full  oftd  time  he  toke  the  forme 
Of  woman  and  his  owne  lefte. 
So  did  he  well  the  more  thefte. 
A  great  speke'r  in  alle  thinges 
He  was  also  and  of  lesinges 
An  autor,  that  men  wiste  none 
An  other  suche  as  he  was  one. 
And  yet  they  maden  of  this  thefe 
A  god  which  was  unto  hem  lefe, 
And  cleped  him  in  tho  beleves 
The    God   of   Marchants   and   of 

Theves. 

But  yet  a  sterre  upon  the  heven 
He  hath  of  the  planetes  seven. 

ButVulcanus,  of  whom  I  spake, 
He  had  a  courbe  2  upon  the  back, 
And  therto  he  was  hippe-halt, 
Of  whom  thou  understonde  shalt, 
He  was  a  shrewe  in  al  his  youth 
And  he  none  other  vertue  couth 
Of  craft  to  helpe  him  selve  with 
But  only  that  he  was  a  smith 
With  Jupiter,  whiche  in  his  forge 
Diverse  thinges  made  him  forge ; 
So  wote  I  nought  for  what  desire 
They  clepen  him  the  God  of  Fire. 

1  Leudt,  unlearned,         "  Courbe,  hump. 


King  of  Cicile  Ypolitus 
A  sone  he  had,  and  Eolus 
He  hight,  and  of  his  faders  graunt 
He  held  by  way  of  covenaunt 
The  governaunce  of  every  ile 
Which  was  longend  unto  Cicile, 
Of  hem  that  fro  the  lond  forein 
Lay  ope  the  windes  alle  pleine.1 
And  fro  thilke  iles  into  the  londe 
Full  ofte  cam  the  wind  to  honde ; 
After  the  name  of  him  forthy 
The  windes  cleped  Eoly 
They  were,  and  he  the  God  of  Winde. 
Lo  now,  how  this  beleve  is  blinde. 

The  king  of  Crete  Jupiter, 
The  same,  whiche  I  spake  of  er, 
Unto  his  brother,  which  Neptune 
Was  hote,  it  list  him  to  coinune 
Parte  of  his  good,  so  that  by  ship 
Hemadehim  stronge  of  thelordship 
Of  all  the  see  in  tho  parties, 
Where  that  he  wrought  his  tiran- 

nies, 

And  the  straunge  iles  aboute 
He  wan,  that  every  man  hath  double 
Upon  his  marche  2  for  to  saile. 
For  he  anone  hem  wolde  assaile 
And  robbe  what  thing  that  they 

ladden, 

Hissauf  conduit  but  if3  they  hadden. 
Wherof  the  comun  vois  arcs 
In  every  lond,  that  suche  a  los 
He  caught,  all  nere  it  worth  a  stre, 
That  he  was  cleped  of  the  See 
The  God  by  name,  and  yet  he  is 
With  hem  that  so  beleve  amis. 
This  Neptune  eke  was  thilke  also, 
Which  was  the  firste  founder  tho 
Of  noble  Troy,  and  he  forthy 
Was  well  the  more"  lette  by. 

The  loresman  of  the  shepherdes 
And  eke  of  hem  that  ben  netherdes, 
Was  of  Archade  and  highte  Pan, 

1  Laid  up  a  full  store  of  all  the  winds. 

2  Marche,  borders.  3  But  if,  unless. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


229 


Of  whom  hath  spokd  many  a  man. 
For  in  the  wode  of  Nonartigne 
Enclosed  with  the  trees  of  pigne 
And  on  the  mount  of  Parasie 
He  had  of  bestds  the  bailie,1 
And  eke  beneth  in  the  valdy, 
Where  thilkd  river,  as  men  may  say, 
Which    Ladon    hightd,   made    his 

cours, 

He  was  the  chefe  of  governours 
Of  hem  that  kepten  tame'  bestes, 
Wherof  they  maken  yet  the  festes 
In  the  citee  of  Stimfalides. 
And  forth  withall  yet  netheles 
He  taughte  men  the  forth  drawing 
Of  bestaile  and  eke  the  making 
Of  oxen  and  of  hors  the  same, 
Howmenhemshulddride  and  tame, 
Of  foulds  eke,  so  as  we  finde, 
Full  many  a  subtil  craft  of  kinde 
He  found,  which  no  man  knew  to- 
fore. 

Men  did  him  worship  eke  therfore, 
That  he  the  first  in  thilkd  londe 
Was,  which  the  melodic  fonde 
Of  reedds  whan  they  weren  ripe, 
With  double  pipes  for  to  pipe. 
Therof  he  yaf  the  firstd  lore, 
Till  afterward  men  couthd  more ; 
To  every  crafte  of  mannes  helpe 
He  had  a  redy  wit  to  helpe 
Through  natural  experience. 
And  thus  thurh  nicd  reverence 
Of  foolds,  whan  that  he  was  dede, 
The  foot  was  torndd  to  the  hede 
And  clepen  him  God  of  Nature, 
For  so  they  maden  his  figure. 

"  An  other  god,  so  as  they  fele, 
Whiche  Jupiter  upon  Semele 
Begat  in  his  avouterie, 
Whom,  for  to  hide  his  lecherie 
That  none  therof  shall  take  kepe, 
In  a  mountaignd  for  to  kepe 
Which  Dion  hight  and  was  in  Ynde 

1  Bailie,  custody. 


He  send,  in  bokds  as  I  finde, 
And  he  by  name*  Bachus  hight, 
Which   afterward,   whan   that   he 

might, 

A  wastor  was  and  all  his  rent 
In  wine  and  bordel x  he  despent 
But  yet  a*ll  were  he  wonder  bad 
Among  the  Grekes  a  name  he  had, 
They  clepdd  him  the  God  of  Wine 
And  thus  a  gloton  was  divine. 

"  There  was  yet  Esculapius 
A  god  in  thilke  time  as  thus. 
His  craft  stood  upon  surgerie, 
But  for  the  luste  of  lecherie, 
That  he  to  Dairds  doughter  drough, 
It  fell  that  Jupiter  him  slough. 
And  yet  they  made  him  nought 

forth  £ 

A  god,  and  wist  no  causd  why. 
In  Rome  he  was  long  time*  so 
A  god  among  the  Remains  tho, 
For  as  they  saide  of  his  presence 
There  was  destruied  a  pestilence 
Whan  they  to  thileof  Delphos  went; 
And  that  Apollo  with  him  sent 
This  Esculapius  his  sone 
Among  the  Remains  for  to  wone  ; 
And  there  he  dweltd  for  a  while, 
Till  afterwarde  into  that  ile 
Fro  when  he  cam  ayeine  he  torneth, 
Where  all  his  life  that  he  sojorneth 
Among  the    Grekes   till    that    he 

deiede. 

And  they  upon  him  thannd  leide 
His  name,  and  God  of  Medicine 
He  hatte  after  that  ilkd  line. 

"  An  other  god  of  Hercules 
They  madd,  which  was  nethdles 
A  man,  but  that  he  was  so  stronge 
In  al  this  world  that  brodeandlonge 
So  mighty  was  no  man  as  he. 
Merveiles  twelve  in  his  degre, 
As  it  was  couth  in  sondry  londes, 
He  didd  with  his  owne  hondes 

1  Bordel,  revelry. 


230 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


Ayein  geaunts  and  monstres  both, 
The  whiche  horrible  were  and  loth. 
But  he  with  strength  hem  overcam, 
Wherof  so  great  a  price  he  nam, 
That  they  him  clepe  amonges  alle 
The  God  of  Strengthe  and  to  him 

calle. 

And  yet  there  is  no  reson  inne, 
For  he  a  man  was  full  of  sinne, 
Which  proved  was  upon  his  ende, 
For  in  a  rage  him  self  he  brende. 
And  suche  a  cruell  mannes  dede 
Accordeth  nothing  with  godhede. 

They  had  of goddes  yet  an  other, 
Which  Pluto  hight,  and  was  the 

brother 

Of  Jupiter,  and  he  fro  youth 
With   every  word   which   cam    to 

mouth, 

Of  any  thing,  whan  he  was  wroth, 
He  wolde  swere  his  comun  othe 
By  Lethen  and  by  Flegeton, 
By  Cochitum  and  Acheron, 
The  whiche  after  the  bokes  telle 
Ben  the  chefe  floodes  of  the  helle  ; 
By  Segne  and  Stige  he  swore  also, 
That  ben  the  depe  pittes  two 
Of  helle  the  most  principall. 
Pluto  these  othes  over  all 
Swore  of  his  comun  custumaunce, 
Till  it  befelle  upon  a  chaunce, 
That  he  for  Jupiteres  sake 
Unto  the  godde"s  let  do  make 
A  sacrifice,  and  for  that  dede 
One  of  the  pittes  for  his  mede 
In  hell  of  whiche  I  spake  of  er 
Was  graunted  him,  and   thus   he 

there 

Upon  the  fortune  of  this  thinge 
The  name  toke  of  Helle*  Kinge. 

"  Lo,  these  goddes  and  well  mo 
Among  the  Greke's  they  had  tho, 
And  of  goddesses  many  one, 
Whose  names  thou  shalthereanone, 
And  in  what  wise  they  deceiven 


The  fooles,  whiche  her  feith  recei  ven. 

'•  So  as  Saturne  is  soveraine 
Of  false  godde's,  as  they  saine, 
So  is  Cybeles  of  goddesses 
The  moder,  whom  withoute  gesses 
The  folke*  prein,  honour,  and  serve 
As  they  the  whiche  her  lawe  observe. 
But  for  to  knowen  upon  this, 
Fro  when  she  cam  and  what  she  is, 
Bethincia  the  centre*  hight, 
Where  she  cam  first  to  mannes  sight. 
And  after  was  Saturnes  wife, 
By  whom  thre  children  in  her  life 
She  bare,  and  they  were  cleped  tho 
Juno,  Neptunus  and  Pluto, 
The  which  of  nice  fantasy 
The  people  wolde  deify. 
And  for  her  children  weren  so 
Cybeles  thanne  was  also 
Made  a  goddesse,  and  they  her  calle 
The  Moder  of  the  Goddes  alle. 
So  was  that  name  bore  forth, 
And  yet  the  cause  is  litel  worth. 

A  vois  unto  Saturne  tolde, 
How  that  his  owne  sone  him  sholde 
Out  of  his  regne  put  away, 
And  he  because  of  thilke  wey 
That  him  was  shape  suche  a  fate, 
Cybele  his  wife  began  to  hate 
And  eke  her  progenie  bothe. 
And  thus  while  that  they  were  wrothe 
By  Philerem  upon  a  day 
In  his  avouterie  he  lay, 
On  whom  he  Jupiter  begat. 
And  thilke  child  was  after  that 
Which  wrought  al   that  was  pro- 

phecied, 

As  it  to-fore  is  specified. 
So  whan  that  Jupiter  of  Crete 
Was  king,  a  wife  unto  him  mete 
The  doughter  of  Cybele  he  toke, 
And  that  was  Juno,  saith  the  boke 
Of  his  deification 
After  the  fals  opinion 
That  I  have  tolde,  so  as  they  mene. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


231 


And  for  this  Juno  was  the  quene 
Of  Jupiter  and  suster  eke, 
The  foolds  unto  hird  seke 
And  sain,  that  she  is  the  Goddesse 
Of  Regnes  bothe  and  of  Richesse, 
And  eke  she,  as  they  understonde, 
The  water  nimphds  hath  in  honde 
To  leden  at  her  owne  heste. 
And  whan  her  list  the  sky  tempdste 
The  reinbowe  is  her  messagere. 
La,  which  a  misbeleve  is  here 
That  she  goddesse  is  of  the  sky, 
I  wot  none  other  cause*  why. 

"An  other  goddesse  is  Minerve, 
To  whom  the   Grekes  obey  and 

serve. 

And  she  was  nigh  the  greate  lay l 
Of  Triton  founde,  where  she  lay 
A  child  for-cast,  but  what  she  was 
There  knew  no  man  the  sothe  cas. 
But  in  Aufrique  she  was  laide 
In  the  mandr  as  I  have  saide 
And  caried  fro  that  ilke  place 
Into  an  ild  fer  in  Trace, 
The  which  Pallend  thanne  hight, 
Where  a  norfce  hir  kepte  and  dight. 
And  after  for  she  was  so  wise, 
That  she  found  first  in  her  avise 
The  cloth  making  of  woll  and  line, 
Men  saiden  that  she  was  divine, 
And  the  Goddesse  of  Sapience 
They  clepen  her  in  that  credence. 

Of  the  goddesse,  which  Pallas 
Is  cleped,  sondry  speche  was. 
One  saith  her  fader  was  Pallaunt, 
Whiche  was  in  his  time  a  geaunt, 
A  cruell  man,  a  batailous. 
An  other  saith,  how  in  his  hous 
She  was  the  cause  why  he  deiede. 
And  of  this  Pallas  some  eke  saide 
That  she  was  Martes  wife,  and  so 
Among  the  men  that  weren  tho 
Of  misbeleve  in  the  riot 
The  Goddesse  of  Batailds  hole 

1  Lay,  lake. 


She  was,  and  yet  she  bereth  the 

name. 
Now  loke,  how  they  be  for  to  blame. 

"  Saturnus  after  his  exile 
Fro  Crete*  cam  in  great  perile 
Into  the  londes  of  Itaile 
And  there  he  didd  great  merveile, 
Wherof  his  namd  dwelleth  yit. 
For  he  founde  of  his  ownd  wit 
The  firste  crafte  of  plough  tilling, 
Of  ering l  and  of  corn  sowing, 
And  how  men  shulden  settd  vines 
And  of  the  grapes  make  wines  ; 
All  this  he  taught.     And  it  fell  so 
His  wife,  the  which  cam  with  him  tho, 
Was  clepdd  Cereres  by  name, 
And  for  she  taught  also  the  same 
And  was  his  wife  that  ilkd  throwe, 
As  it  was  to  the  people  knowe, 
They  made  of  Ceres  a  goddesse, 
In  whom  her  tilthd  yet  they  blesse 
And  sain  that  Tricolonius 
Her  sond  goth  amonges  us 
And  maketh  the  corn  good  chepe 

or  dere, 

Right  as  her  list,  from  yere  to  yere, 
So  that  this  wife  because  of  this 
Goddesse  of  Cornds  cleped  is. 

"  King  Jupiter,  which  his  liking 
Whilom  fulfilled  in  alld  thing, 
So  priveliche  about  he  ladde 
His  lust,  that  he  his  willd  hadde 
Of  Latona"  and  on  her  that 
Diane  his  doughter  he  begat 
Unknowen  of  his  wife  Juno. 
But  afterward  she  knewe  it  so, 
That  Latond  for  drede  fled 
Into  an  ild,  where  she  hid 
Her  wombe  which  of  childe  aros. 
Thilke  ild  cleped  was  Delos, 
In  which  Diana  was  forth  brought 
And  kept  so  that  her  lacketh  nought. 
And  after  whan  she  was  of  age, 
She  toke  none  hede  of  maridge, 

1  £rinf,  ploughing. 


232 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  out  of  marines  compaigny 
She  toke  her  all  to  venery  l 
In  forest  and  in  wildernesse, 
For  there  was  all  her  besinesse 
By  day  and  eke  by  nightes  tide 
With  arwes  brode  under  the  side 
And  bow  in  honde,  of  which  she 

slough 

And  toke  all  that  her  list  inough 
Of  bestes  which  ben  chaceable. 
Wherof  the  cronique  of  this  fable 
Saith  that  the  gentils  most  of  alle 
Worshippen  her,  and  to  her  calle 
And  the  Goddesse  of  highe  Hilles, 
Of  grene  trees,  of  fresshe  welles 
They  clepen  her  in  that  beleve, 
Which  that  no  reson  may  acheve. 
"Proserpina,  which  doughterwas 
Of  Cereres,  befell  this  cas  : 
While  she  was  dwelling  in  Cicile, 
Her  moder  in  that  ilke  while 
Upon  her  blessing  and  her  hest 
Bad  that  she  shulde  ben  honest 
And  lerne  for  to  weve  and  spinne 
And  dwell  at  home  and  kepe  her 

inne. 

But  she  cast  all  that  lore  awey, 
And  as  she  went  her  out  to  pley 
To  gader  floures  in  a  pleine, 
And  that  was  under  the  mountaigne 
Of  Ethna,  fell  the  same*  tide 
That  Pluto  cam  that  waie  ride. 
And  sodeinly,  er  she  was  ware, 
He  toke  her  up  into  his  chare,2 
And  as  they  riden  in  the  felde, 
Her  gret^  beaute  he  behelde, 
Which  was  so  plesaunt  in  his  eye. 
That  for  to  holde  in  compaignie 
He  wedded  her,  and  helde  her  so 
To  ben  his  wife  for  evermo. 
And  as  thou  hast  to-fore  herde  telle, 
How  he  was  cleped  God  of  Helle, 
So  is  she  clepe'd  the  Goddesse 
Because  of  him,  ne  more  ne  lesse. 

1  Venery ',  hunting.          2  Chare,  car,  chariot. 


"Lo  thus,  my  sone,  as  I  the  tolde 
The  Grekes  whilom  by  daies  olde 
Her  goddes  had  in  sondry  wise, 
And  through  the  lore  of  herapprise1 
The  Remains  helden  eke  the  same 
And  in  the  worshippe  of  her  name 
To  every  god  in  specidll 
They  made  a  temple  forth  withall 
And  eche  of  hem  his  yeres  day 
Attitled  hadde.     And  of  array 
The  temples  weren  than  ordeigned, 
And    eke    the   people    was    con- 

streigned 

To  come  and  done  her  sacrifice. 
The  prestes  eke  in  her  office 
Solempne  maden  thilke  festes. 
And  thus  the  Grekes  lich  to  bestes 
The  men  in  stede  of  God  honour, 
Which  mighten  nought  hem  self 

soccour 
While  that  they  were  alive  here. 

"  And  over  this  as  thoushalt  here 
The  Grekes  fulfilled  of  fantasy 
Sain  eke  that  of  the  hilles  high 
The  goddes  ben  in  speciall, 
But  of  her  name  in  generall 
They  hoten  alle  Satiry. 

"  There  benof  Nimphe's  proprely 
In  the  beleve  of  hem  also  : 
Oreades  they  saiden  tho 
Attitled  ben  to  the  montaignes  ; 
And  for  the  wodes  in  demeines 
To  kepe  tho  ben  Driades ; 
Of  fresshe'  welle's  Naiades  • 
And  of  the  nimphes  of  the  see 
I  finde  a  tale  in  proprete, 
How  Dorus  whilom  king  of  Grece, 
Whiche  had  of  infortune  a  piece, 
His  wife  forth  with  his  doughter  alle 
So  as  the  happes  shulden  falle 
With  many  a  gentilwoman  there 
Dreint  in  the  saltd  see  they  were, 
Wherof  the  Grekes  that  time  saiden 
And  such  a  name  upon  hem  laiden, 

1  Apprise,  teaching. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


233 


Nereides  that  they  ben  hote, 
The  nimphes  whichd  that  they  note 
To  regne  upon  the  stremds  sake. 
Lo  now,  if  this  belevd  halte. 
But  of  the  n imphds  as  they  telle, 
In  every  place  where  they  dwelle 
They  ben  all  redy  obeisaunt 
As  damisellds  attendaunt 
To  the  goddesses,  whose  servfse 
They  mote  obey  in  alle  wise, 
Wherof  the  Grekes  to  hem  beseke 
With  tho  that  ben  goddesses  eke, 
And  have  in  hem  a  great  credence. 
And  yet  without  experience 
Saufe  onely  of  illusion, 
Which  was  to  hem  dampnacidn. 

"  For  men  also  that  werd  dede 
They  hadden  goddes  as  I  rede, 
And  tho  by  name  Manes  highten, 
To  whom  ful  great  honour  they 

dighten, 

So  as  the  Grekds  lawd  saith, 
Which  was  ayein  the  rightd  feith. 

"  Thus  have  I  tolde  a  great  partie, 
But  all  the  hole'  progenie 
Of  goddds  in  that  ilkd  time 
To  longe  it  were  for  to  rime. 
But  yet  of  that  which  thou  hast  herde 
Of  misbeleve,  howe  it  hath  ferde, 
There  is  a  great  diversitd."- 

"  My  fader,  right  so  thenketh  me. 
But  yet  o  thinge  I  you  beseche, 
Which  stant  in  alld  mennds  speche, 
The  God  and  the  Goddesseof  Love, 
Of  whom  ye  nothing  here  above 
Have  told,  ne  spoken  of  her  fare, 
That  ye  me  woldd  now  declare, 
How  they  first  comd  to  that  name. " — 

"  My  sone,  I  have  it  left  for  shame, 
Because  I  am  her  ownd  prest. 
But  for  they  stonde  nigh  thy  brest 
Upon  the  shrifte  of  thy  matere, 
Thou  shalt  of  hem  the  sothe  here, 
And  understond  now  well  the  cas. 
Venus  Saturnds  doughter  was, 


Which  alle  Daunger  put  awey 
Of  Love  and  found  to  lust  a  wey, 
So  that  of  her  in  sondry  place 
Diverse*  men  fell  into  grace, 
And  such  a  lusty  life  she  ladde, 
That  she  diverse  children  hadde, 
Now  one  by  this,  now  one  by  that. 
Of  her  it  was  that  Mars  begat 
A  child  which  cleped  was  Armene, 
Of  her  cam  also  Andragene, 
To  whom  Mercuric  father  was. 
Anchises  begat  Eneds 
Of  her  also,  and  Ericon 
Biten  begatte,  and  therupon 
Whan  that  she  sigh  ther  was  none 

other 

By  Jupiter  her  ownd  brother 
She  lay,  and  he  begat  Cupfde. 
And  thilke  sone  upon  a  tide, 
Whan  he  was  come  unto  his  age, 
He  had  a  wonder  fair  visdge 
And  founde  his  mother  amorous, 
And  he  was  also  lecherous. 
So  whan  they  weren  bothe  alone, 
As  he  whiche  eyen  hadde  none 
To  se  reson,  his  mother  kist, 
And  she  also  that  nothing  wist 
But  that  whiche   to  his  lust  be- 

longeth, 

To  bene  her  love  him  underfongeth. 
Thus  was  he  blinde  and  she  unwis. 
But  netheles  this  cause  it  is 
Which  Cupide  is  the  god  of  love, 
For  he  his  mother  derste  love, 
And  she,  which  through  her  lustes 

fonde 

Diversd  love's  toke  on  honde 
Wei  mo  than  I  the  telle  here. 
And  for  she  wolde  her  selvd  skere,1 
She  madd  comun  that  disporte 
And  set  a  lawe  of  such  a  porte 
That  every  woman  mightd  take 
What   man  her   list   and  nought 

forsake 

1  Skere,  clear,  free. 


234 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


To  ben  as  comun  as  she  wolcle. 
She  was  the  first  also  which  tolde 
That  women  shulde  her  body  selle. 
Semiramis  so  as  men  telle 
Of  Venus  kepte  thilke  apprise. 
And  so  did  in  the  same'  wise 
Of  Rome  faire  Neabolie, 
Which  lift  her  body  to  Regolie. 
She  was  to  every  man  felawe 
And  held  the  lust  of  thilke  lawe 
Which  Venus  of  her  self  beganne, 
Wherof  that  she  the  name  wanne 
Why  men  her  clepen  the  Goddesse 
Of  Love  and  eke  of  gentilesse, 
Of  worldes  lust  and  of  plesaunce. 

"  Se  now  the  foule  miscreaunce 
Of  Grekes  in  thilke  time  tho, 
Whan  Venus  toke  her  name  so. 
There-.was  no  cause  under  the  mone 
Of  which  they  hadden  tho  to  done 
Of  wel  or  wo  where  so  it  was, 
That  they  ne  token  in  that  cas 
A  god  to  helpe  or  a  goddesse, 
Wherof  to  take  my  witnesse, 

"The  kingof  BragmanDindimus 
Wrote  unto  Alisaundre  thus 
In  blaminge  of  the  Greke's  feith 
And  of  the  misbeleve  he  saith 
How  they  for  every  membre  hadden 
A    sondry    god,    to    whom    they 

spradden 
Her  armes  and  of  help  besoughten. 

"  Miner ve    for    the    hede    they 

soughten. 

For  she  was  wise,  and  of  a  man 
The  wit  and  reson  which  he  can 
Is  in  the  celles  of  the  brain, 
Wherof  they  made  her  soverain. 

"  Mercuric,    which    was   in    his 

dawes 

A  great  speker  of  false  lawes, 
On  him  the  keping  of  the  tunge 
They  laiden,  whan  they  speke  or 
sunge. 

"  For  Bachus  was  a  jrloten  eke 


Him  for  the  throte  they  beseke, 
That  he  it  wolde  wasshen  ofte 
With  suote  drinke's  and  with  softe. 

The  god  of  shulders  and  of  armes 
Was  Hercules,  for  he  in  armes 
The  mightiest^  was  to  fight, 
To  him  tho  limmes  they  behight. 
The  god  whom  that  they  clepen  Mart 
The  brest  to  kepe  hath  for  his  part, 
For  with  the  herte  in  his  ymage 
That  he  addresse  to  his  corage. 
And  of  the  galle  the  goddesse, 
For  she  was  ful  of  hastinesse, 
Of  wrath  and  light  to  greve  also, 
They  made  and  said,  it  was  Juno. 

"  Cupide',  which  the  brond  of  fire 
Bare  in  his  bond,  he  was  the  sire 
Of  the  stonicick,  which  boileth  ever, 
Wherof  the  lustes  ben  the  lever. 

"Thus  was  dispers    in    sondry 

wise 

The  misbeleve  as  I  devise 
With  many  an  ymage  of  entaile 1 
Of  suche  as  might   hem    nought 

availe. 

For  they  withoute  lives  chere 
Unmighty  ben  to  se  or  here 
Or  speke  or  do  or  elles  fele, 
And  yet  the  fade's  to  hem  knele 
Whiche  is  her  owne  handes  werke. 
Ha  lord,  how  this  beleve  is  derke 
And  fer  fro  resonable  wit, 
And  netheles  they  don  it  yit. 
That  was  o  day  a  ragged  tre 
To  morwe  upon  his  mageste 
Stant  in  the  temple  wel  besein  ; 
How  might  a  mannes  reson  sain, 
That  such  a  stock  may  helpe  or 

greve  ? 

But  they  that  ben  of  such  beleve 
And  unto  suchd  goddes  calle, 
It  shall  to  hem  right  so  befalle 
And  failen  atte'  moste  nede. 
But  if  thee  list  to  taken  hede 

1  Graven  image. 


BOOK  V.  -AVARICE. 


235 


And  of  the  first  ym4ge*.wite, 
Petronius  therof  hath  write 
And  eke  Nigargorus  also, 
And  they  afferme  and  write  so, 
That  Promethdiis  was  to-fore 
And  foundd  the  first  craft  therfore, 
And  Cirophanes,  as  they  telle, 
Through  counseil  which  was  take 

in  helle, 

In  remembraunce  of  his  lignage 
Let  setten  up  the  first  ymage. 
Of  Cirophdnes  saith  the  boke 
That  he  for  sorwe  which  he  toke 
Of  that  he  sigh  his  sone  dede, 
Of  comfort  knew  none  other  rede 
But  let  do  make  in  remembraunce 
A  faire  ymdge  of  his  semblaiince 
And  set  it  in  the  market  place, 
Which  openly  to-fore  his  face 
Stood  every  day  to  done  him  ese. 
And  they  that  thanne  wolde  plese 
The  fader,  shulden  it  obey 1 
Whan  that  they  comen  thilke  wey. 

"And  of  Ninus  king  of  Assire 
I  rede,  how  that  in  his  empire 
He  was,  next  after,  the  secound 
Of  hem  that  first  ymdges  found. 
For  he  right  in  sembldble  cas 
Of  Belus,  which  his  fader  was 
Fro  Nembroth  in  the  righte  line, 
Let  make  of  gold  and  stonds  fine 
A  precious  ymage'  riche 
After  his  fader  evenliche, 
And  therupon  a  law  he  sette 
That  every  man  of  pure*  dette 
With  sacrifice  and  with  trudge 
Honour^  shuldd  thilk  ymage, 
So  that  withinnd  time  it  felle 
Of  Belus  cam  the  name  of  Belle, 
Of  Bel  cam  Belzebub  and  so 
The  misbelevd  wente  tho. 

"  The  thrid  ymdge  next  to  this 
Was  whan  the  king  of  Grece,  Apis, 
Was  dede,  they  maden  a  figure 

1  Make  obeisance  to. 


In  resemblaiince  of  his  stature. 
Of  this  king  Apis  saith  the  boke, 
That  Serapis  his  name*  toke, 
In  whom  through  longcontinuaunce 
Of  misbeleve  a  great  creaunce 
They  hadden  and  the  reverence 
Of  sacrifice  and  of  encence 
To  him  they  made.     And  as  they 

telle 

Among  the  wonders  that  befelle, 
Whan  Alisaundre  fro  Candace 
Cam  ridend  in  a  wildd  place 
Under  an  hille  a  cave  he  fond, 
And  Candalus,  whiche  in  that  lond 
WTas  bore  and  was  Candaces  sone, 
Him  told,  how  that  of  comun  wone 
The  goddds  were  in  thilke  cave. 
And  he  that  wolde  assay  and  have 
A  knoulechinge  if  it  be  soth, 
Light  of  his  hors  and  in  he  goth 
And  fond  therinne  that  he  sought. 
For  through  the  fendds  sleight  him 

thought 

Amonges  other  goddes  mo 
That  Serapis  spake  to  him  tho, 
Whom  he  sigh  there  in  great  array. 
And  thus  the  fend  fro  day  to  day 
The  worship  of  ydolatrie 
Drough  forth  upon  the  fantasie 
Of  hem  that  weren  thanne  blinde 
And  couthen  nought  the  trouthe 

finde. 

Thus  hast  thou  herd  in  what  degre 
Of  Grece,  and  Egipte  and  Caldee 
The  misbelevds  whilom  stood, 
And  how  so  that  they  be  nought 

good 

Ne  trewd,  yet  they  sprongen  oute, 
Wherof  the  wide  worlde  aboute 
His  parte  of  misbeleve  toke. 
Til  so  befelle,  as  saith  the  boke, 
That  God  a  people  for  him  selve 
Hath  chose  of  the  ligndges  twelve, 
Wherof  the  sothd  redely, 
As  it  is  write  in  Genesy, 


236 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


I  thenke  telle  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  it  shall  be  to  thin  apprise. 

«  Differ  ifye  floofc,  fro  which  Noe 
Was  sauf,  the  worlde  in  his  degre 
Was  made  as  who  saith  new  ayein 
Of  flour,  of  fruit,  of  gras,  of  grein, 
Of  beest,  of  brid  and  of  mankinde, 
Whiche  ever  hath  be  toGodunkinde. 
For  nought  withstonding  all  the  fare 
Of  that  this  world  was  made  so  bare, 
And  afterward  it  was  restored, 
Among  the  men  was  nothing  mored1 
Towardes  God  of  good  living, 
But  all  was  torned  to  liking 
After  the  flessh,  so  that  foryete 
Was  he  which  yaf  hem  life  and  mete, 
Of  heven  and  erthe'  creatour. 
And  thus  cam  forth  the  great  errour, 
That  they  the  highe  God  ne  knewe, 
But  maden  other  goddes  newe, 
As  thou  hast  herd  me  said  to-fore. 
There  was  no  man  that  time  bore, 
That  he  ne  had  after  his  chois 
A  god  to  whom  he  yaf  his  vois, 
Wherof  the  misbeleve  cam 
Into  the  time  of  Abraham. 
But  he  found  out  the  right£  wey, 
Howe  only  men  shulden  obey 
The  highe  God,  which  weldeth  all 
And  ever  hath  done  and  ever  shall 
In  heven,  in  erth  and  eke  in  helle, 
There  is  no  tunge  his  might  may  telle. 
This  patriarch  to  his  ligndge 
Forbad  that  they  to  none  ymdge 
Enclin£  sholden  in  no  wise, 
But  her  offrende  and  sacrinse 
With  all  the  hole  herte's  love 
Unto  the  mighty  God  above 
They  shuldd  yive  and  to  no  mo. 
And  thus  in  thilke  time  tho 
Began  that  sect  upon  this  erthe, 
Whiche  of  beleves  was  the  ferthe. 
Of  rightwisnesse  it  was  'conceived, 
So  must  it  nedes  be  received 

1  Mored,  increased. 


Of  him  that  alle  right  is  inne, 
The  highe  God,  which  wolde  winne 
A  people  unto  his  owne  feith. 
On  Abraham  the  ground  he  laith 
And  made  him  for  to  multiply 
Into  so  great  a  progeny, 
That  they  Egipte  all  over  spradde. 
But  Pharao  with  wrong  hem  ladde 
In  servitude  ayein  the  pees, 
Til  God  let  sende  Moises 
To  make  the  deliveraunce. 
And  for  his  people  great  vengeaunce 
He  toke,  which  is  to  here  a  wonder. 
The  king  was  slain,  the  lond  put 

under, 

God  bad  the  Redde  See  devide, 
Which  stood  upright  on  every  side 
And  yaf  unto  his  people  a  wey 
That  they  on  foot  it  passed  drey 
And  gone  so  forth  into  desdrt, 
Where  for  to  kepe  hem  in  covert 
The  dale's  whan  the  sonne  brent 
A  large  cloude  hem  over  went, 
And  for  to  wissen  hem  by  night 
A  firy  piller  hem  alight. 
And  whan  that  they  for  hunger 

pleigne, 

The  mighty  God  began  to  reine 
Manna  fro  heven  down  to  grounde, 
Wherof  that  eche  of  hem  hath  founde 
His  foode  such  right  as  him  list. 
And  for  they  shuld  upon  him  trist 
Right  as  who  set  a  tonne  abroche 
He  percede  the  harde  roche 
And  spronge  out  water  all  at  wille, 
That  man  and  beste  hath  dronk  his 

fille. 

And  afterward  he  yaf  the  lawe 
To  Moises,  that  hem  withdrawe 
They  shulde  nought  fro  that  he  bad. 
And  in  this  wisd  they  be  lad, 
Til  they  toke  in  possession 
The  londes  of  promission, 
Where  that  Caleph  and  Jostle 
The  marches  upon  such  degre 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


237 


Departen l  after  the  ligndge 
That  eche  of  hem  as  heritage 
His  purparty  2  hath  underfonge. 
And  thus  stood  this  belevd  longe, 
Whiche  of  prophdtes  was  governed. 
And  they  had  eke  the  people  lerned 
Of  great  honour  that   shuld  hem 

falle, 

But  and  moste  nede  of  alle 
They  faileden,whan  Crist  was  bore. 
But  how  that  they  her  feith  have  lore 
It  nedeth  nought  to  tellen  all, 
The  matere  is  so  generall. 

"Whan  Lucifer  was  best  in  heven 
And  oughtd  most  have  stonde  in 

even, 

Towardes  God  he  toke  debate, 
And  for  that  he  was  obstinate 
And  wolde  nought  to  trouth  encline 
He  fel  for  ever  into  rui'ne. 

"  And  Adam  eke  in  Paradis, 
Whan  he  stood  most  in  all  his  pris 
After  the  state  of  innocence, 
Ayein  the  God  brake  his  defence  3 
And  fell  out  of  his  place  awey. 
And  right  by  such  a  maner  wey 
The  Jewes  in  her  bestd  plite, 
Whan  that  they  sholden  most  parfite 
Have  stonde  upon  the  prophec^, 
Tho  fellen  they  to  most  foly 
And  him  which  was  fro  heven  come 
And  of  a  maid  his  flessh  hath  nome 
And  was  among  hem  bore  and  fed, 
As  men  that  wolden  nought  be  sped 
Of  Goddds  Sond,  with  o  vois 
They  heng  and  slough  upon  the 

crois, 

Wherof  the  parfite  of  her  lawe 
Fro    thennd  forth  hem  was  with- 

drawe, 

So  that  they  stonde  of  no  merit, 
But  in  a  truage  4  as  folk  subgit 

1  Departtnt  divide.          2  Purparty,  share. 
3  His  defence,  his  prohibition  (that  which 
was  "  defendu  "). 
*  Truagct  homage. 


Withoutd  propretd  of  place 
They  liven  oute  of  Goddes  grace, 
Dispers  in  alld  londds  oute. 
And  thus  the  feith  is  come  aboute, 
That  whilome  in  the  Jewds  stood, 
Whiche  is  nought  parfitlichd  good. 
To  speke  as  it  is  now  befalle 
There  is  a  feith  aboven  alle, 
In  which  the   trouthe  is  compre 
hended, 
Wherof  that  we  ben  all  amended. 

"  The  high  almighty  magestd 
Of  rightwisnesse  and  of  pite 
The  sinne  which  that  Adam  wrought, 
Whan  he  sigh  time,  ayein  he  bought 
And  send  His  Sone  fro  the  heven 
To  settd  mannds  soule  in  even, 
Which  thannd  was  so  sore  fall 
Upon  the  point  which  was  befall 
That  he  ne  might  him  self  arise. 

"  $rogoir<?  scitf  f)  in  his  apprise : 
It  helpeth  nought  a  man  be  bore, 
If  Goddes  Sond  were  unbore, 
For  thannd  through  the  firste  sinne, 
Which  Adam  whilom  brought  us 

inne, 

There  shulden  alle  men  be  lost ; 
But  Crist  restoreth  thilke  lost 
And  bought  it  with  his  flesshe  and 

blood. 

And  if  we  thenken  how  it  stood 
Of  thilkd  raunson  which  he  paid, 
As  saint  Gregoire  it  wrote  and  said, 
All  was  behovely  to  the  man. 
For  that  wherof  his  wo  began 
Was  after  cause  of  all  his  welth, 
Whan  he    which    is  the  welle  of 

helth, 

The  highd  creatour  of  life, 
Upon  the  nede  of  such  a  strife 
So  wolde  he  for  his  creature 
Take  on  him  self  the  forfeiture 
And  suffre  for  the  mannds  sake. 
Thus  may  no  reson  wel  forsake  l 

1  Forsake,  deny. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  ilke  sinne  original 
Ne  was  the  cause  in  speciall 
Of  mannes  worship  atte  last 
Which  shall  withouten  ende  last. 
For  by  that  cause  the  godhede 
Assembled  was  to  the  manhede 
In  the  Virgind,  where  he  nome 
Our  flesshe  and  verray  man  become 
Of  bodely  fraternite, 
Wherof  the  man  in  his  degre 
Stant  more  worth,  as  I  have  told, 
Than  he  stood  erst  by  many  fold, 
Through  baptismeof  the  newelawe, 
Of  which  Crist  lord  is  and  fela"we. 
And  thus  the  Highe  Godde"s  might, 
Which  was  in  the  Virgine  alight, 
The  mannes  soule  has  reconciled, 
Which  hadde  longe  ben  exiled. 
So  stant  the  feith  upon  beleve 
Withoute  which  may  non  acheve. 
But  this  beleve  is  so  certain 
To  bigge  1  mannes  soule  ayein, 
So  full  of  grace  and  of  vertii, 
That  what  man  clepeth  2  to  Jesu 
In  clene  life  forth  with  goode  dede, 
He  may  nought  faileof  Heven  mede 
Which  taken  hath  the  righte  feith. 
For  elle"s,  as  the  gospel  saith, 
Salvacion  there  may  be  none. 
And  for  to  preche  therupon 
Crist  bad  to  his  apostles  alle, 
The  whos  power  as  now  is  falle 
On  us  that  ben  of  holy  chirche, 
If  we  the  gode  dedes  werche  ; 
For  feith  only  sufficeth  nought 
But  if  good  dede  also  be  wrought. 
"Now  were  it  good,  that  thou 

forth^, 

Which  through  baptisme  proprely 
Art  unto  Cristes  feith  professed, 
Beware  that  thou   be  nought  op 
pressed 

With  anticristes  Lollar'die. 
For  as  the  Jewes  prophecie 

ei  buy.          2  Whatever  man  calls. 


Was  set  of  God  for  avauntage, 
Right  so  this  newe  tapinage l 
Of  Lollardid  goth  aboute 
To  settd  Cristes  feith  in  doubte. 
The  saints  that  weren  us  to-fore, 
By  whom  the  feith  was  first  up  bore 
That  holy  Chirche  stood  releved, 
They  oughten  better  be  beleved 
Than  these  whiche  that  men  knowe 
Nought  holy,  though  they  feigne 

and  blowe 

Her  Lollardy  in  menne's  ere. 
But  if  thou  wolt  live  out  of  fere 
Such  newe  lore  I  rede  escheue, 
Andhold  forth  right  the  weyand  sue 
As  thin  auncestres  did  er  this, 
So  shalt  thou  nought  beleve  amis. 
Crist  wroughte  first  and  after  taught 
So  that  the  dede  his  word  araught, 
He  yaf  ensample  in  his  persdne 
And  we  tho  worde*s  have  alone, 
Like  to  the  tree  with  leves  grene 
Upon  the  which  no  fruit  is  sene. 
"The   prest    Thoas,   which    of 

Minerve 

The  temple  hadde  for  to  serve 
And  the  Palladion  of  Troy 
Kept  under  keie,  for  monaie 
Of  Anthenor  whiche  he  hath  nome 
Hath  sufifred  Anthenor  to  come 
And  the  Palladion  to  stele, 
Wherof  the  worship  and  the  wele 
Of  the  Troia"  ns  was  overthrowe. 
But  Thoas  atte  same  throwe, 
Whan  Anthenor  this  jeuele  toke, 
Winkende  cast  awey  his  loke 
For  a  deceipte  and  for  a  wile, 
As  he  that  shuld  him  self  beguile 
He  hid  his  eyen  fro  the  sight 
And  wende  wel  that  he  so  might 
Excuse  his  false  conscience. 
I  wot  nought  if  thilke  evidence 
Now  at  this  time  in  her  estates 
Excuse  mighte"  the  prelates, 

1  Tapinagc,  secret  skulking. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


239 


Knowend  how  that  the  fcith  dis- 

creseth 

And  alld  moral  vertu  ceseth 
Wherof  that  they  the  keids  here. 
But  yet  hem  liketh  nought  to  stere 
Her  gostlich  eyd  for  to  se 
The  worlde  in  his  adversite ; 
They  wol  no  laboure  undertake 
To  kepd  that  hem  is  betake.1 
Crist  deidd  him  self  for  the  feith, 
But  now  our  ferful  prelate  saith  ; 
'The  life  is  swete,'  and  that  he 

kepeth 

So  that  the  feith  unholpe  slepeth, 
And  they  unto  her  ese  entenden 
And  in  her  lust  her  life  despenden, 
And  every  man  doth  what  him  list. 
Thus  stant  this  world  fulfilled  of 

mist, 

That  no  man  seeth  the  rightd  wey. 
The  wardds  of  the  chirchd  key 
Through    mishandlmgd    ben    mis- 

wreint,2 
The  worldds  wawe3  hath  welnigh 

dreint 

The  ship  which  Peter  hath  to  stere, 
The  forme  is  kept,  but  the  matere 
Transformdd  is  in  other  wise. 
But  if  they  weren  gostly  wise 
And  that  the  prelats  weren  good, 
As  they  by  olde  daies  stood, 
It  werd  thannd  litel  nede 
Among  the  men  to  taken  hede 
Of  that  they  heren  Pseudo  4  telle, 
Which  now  is  comd  for  to  dwelle 
To  sowd  cockel  with  the  corn 
So  that  the  tilthe  is  nigh  forlorn, 
Which  Crist  sew  first  hisowne  hond. 
Now  stant  the  cockel  in  the  lond, 
Where    stood   whilom    the    godd 

greine, 
For  the  prelats  now,  as  men  sain, 

1  Betake ,  entrusted. 

a  Miswrchit,  wrenched  out  of  shape. 

3  Wawe,  wave.  *  Pscudo,  false. 


Forslouthen1  that  theysholden  tille. 
And  that  I  trowe  be  the  skille  - 
Whan  there  is  lacke  in  hem  above, 
The  people  is  straunged  to  the  love 
Of  trouth  in  cause  of  ignoraunce. 
For  where  there  is  no  purveaunce 
Of  light,  men  erren  in  the  derke. 
But  if  the  prelats  wolden  werke 
Upon  the  feith  which  they  us  teche, 
Men  sholden  nought  her  waid  sechc 
Withoute  light  as  now  is  used ; 
Men  se  the  charge  all  day  refused 
Whiche  holy  chirche  hath  under 
take. 
But  who  that  wolde    ensamplc 

take, 

Gregoire  upon  his  Omelie 
Ayein  the  Slouthe  of  Prelacie 
Compleigneth  him  and  thus  he  saith : 
'  Whan  Peter,  fader  of  the  feith, 
At  domesday  shall  with  him  bring 
Judeam,  which  through  hispreching 
He  wan,  and  Andrew  with  Achay 
Shall  come  his  dette  for  to  pay, 
And  Thomas  eke  with  his  beyete 
Of  Ynde,  and  Paul  the  routds  grete 
Of  sondry  londds  to  present, 
And  we  fulfilled  of  londe  and  rent 
Whiche  of  this  worlde  we  holden 

here, 

With  voidd  hondes  shall  appere, 
Touchend  our  curd  spirituall 
Whiche  is  our  charge  in  special!, 
I  not  what  thing  it  may  amounte 
Upon  thilke  ende  of  our  accompte 
Where  Crist  him  self  is  auditour, 
Which  taketh  none  hede  of  vein 

honour. 

Thoffice  of  the  chauncellerie 
Or  of  the  kingds  tresorie 
Ne  for  ne  write  ne  for  ne  taile8 
To  warrant  may  nought  than  availe. 

1  Forsloui/ien,  waste  by  their  slouth. 

a  Skille,  reason. 

3  Taile,  tally,  used  for  checking  of  accounts. 


240 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  world  which  now  so  welwe  trow 
Shall  make  us  thanne  but  a  mowe, 
So  passe  we  withoute  mede, 
That  we  none  otherwise  spede 
But  as  we  rede  that  he  spedde, 
Thewhichehislorde'sbesant1  hadde 
And  therupon  gat  none  encres. 
But  at  his  time  netheles 
What  other  man  his  thank  deserve 
The  world  so  lusty  is  to  serve 
That  we  with  him  ben  all  accorded, 
And  that  is  wist  and  well  recorded 
Through  out  this  erthe  in  all£  londes ; 
Letknightes  winne  with  her  hondes, 
For  oure  tungd  shall  be  still 
And  stande  upon  the  flesshes  will ; 
It  were  a  travail  for  to  preche 
The  feith  of  Crist,  as  for  to  teche 
Thefolke  painim ;  it  woll  nought  be : 
But  every  prelate  holde  his  see 
With  alle  such  as  he  may  gete 
Of  lusty  drinke  and  lusty  mete, 
Wherof  the  body  fat  and  full 
Is  unto  gostly  labour  dull 
And  slough  to  handle  thilke  plough. 
But  elles  we  ben  swifte  inough 
Toward  the  worldes  Avarice. 
And  that  is  as  a  sacrifice, 
Which  after  that  thapostle  saith 
Is  openly  ayein  the  feith 
Unto  the  ydols  yove  and  graunted, 
But  netheles  as  it  is  now  haunted 
And  vertue  chaunged  into  vice, 
So  that  Largesse  is  Avarice, 
In  whose  chapitre  now  we  trete." — 

"  My  fader,  this  matere  is  bete 
So  far,  that  ever  while  J  live 
I  shall  the  better  hede  yive 
Unto  my  self  by  many  wey. 
But  over  this  now  wolde  I  prey 
To  wite,  what  the  braunches  are 
Of  Avarice,  and  how  they  fare 
Als  well  in  love  as  otherwise." — 

"  My  sone,  and  I  the  shall  devise 

1  Besant,  a  gold  coin  of  Byzantium  ;  talent. 


In  suche  a  maner  as  they  stonde, 
Sothat  thou  shalt  hemunderstonde. 
"  Pcwte  ^lt>cmce  is  nought  so- 

leine,1 

Which  is  of  gold  the  capiteine. 
But  of  her  Courte  in  sondry  wise 
After  the  scole  of  her  apprise 
She  hath  of  servaunts  many  one, 
Wherof  that  Covetise  is  one, 
Which  goth  the  large  worlde  about 
To  seche  thavauntages  out 
Where  that  he  may  the  profit  winne 
To  Avarice  and  bringeth  it  inne. 
That  onehaltand  that  other  draweth, 
There   is  no  day  which  hem  be- 

daweth  2 

No  more  the  sonne  than  the  mone, 
Whan  there  is  any  thing  to  done, 
And  namely  with  Covetise, 
For  he  stant  out  of  all  assise 
Of  resonable  mannes  fare 
Where  he  purposeth  him  to  fare 
Upon  his  lucre  and  his  beyete. 
The  smalM  path,  the  large  strete, 
The  furlonge  and  the  longe  mjle, 
All  is  but  one  for  thilkd  while. 
And  for  that  he  is  such  one  holde, 
Dame  Avarice  him  hath  witholde,^ 
As  he  which  is  the  principall 
Outward,4  for  he  is  over  all 
A  purveiour  and  an  espy. 
For  right  as  of  an  hungry  py 
The  storve  bestes  ben  awaited, 
Right  so  is  Covetise  afTaited 
To  loke  where  he  may  purchace,5 
For  by  his  will  he  wolde  embrace 
All  that  this  widd  world  beclippeth. 
But  ever  he  somwhat  overhippeth0 
That  he  ne  may  nought  all  fulfille 
The  haste's  of  his  gredy  wille. 
But  where  it  falleth  in  a  londe, 

1  Soleine,  single. 

2  Bedcvweth,  awakes. 

3  Witholde,  held  with. 

•*  Outward,  watcher  outside. 

5  Purchace,  get  booty. 

6  Overhtypeth,  hops  over. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


241 


That  Covetise  in  mighty  honde 
Is  set,  it  is  full  hard  to  fede. 
For  than  he  taketh  none  other  hede 
But  that  he  may  purchdce  and  gete, 
His  conscience  hath  all  foryete 
And    nought   what    thing    it    may 

amounte 

That  he  shall  afterwarde  accompte. 
But  as  the  luce l  in  his  degre 
Of  tho  that  lasse*  ben  than  he 
The  fisshes  gredily  dcvoureth, 
So  that  no  water  hem  soccoiireth, 
Right  so  no  law£  may  rescowe 
Fro  him  that  woll  no  right  allowe. 
For  where  that  such  one  is  of  might, 
His  will  shall  stonde  in  stede  of  right. 
Thus  be  the  men  destruied  full  ofte, 
Till  that  the  grete  God  alofte 
Ayein  so  great  a  Covetise 
Redresse  it  in  his  owne  wise. 
And  in  ensample  of  alle  tho 
I  finde  a  tal£  write  so, 
The  which  for  it  is  good  to  lere 
Herafterward  thou  shalt  it  here. 
"  ^Bfycw  ^lomcf  stoob  in  noble 

plite, 

Virgile",  which  was  tho  parfite, 
A  Mirrour  made  of  his  clergie 2 
And  sette  it  in  the  townes  eye 
Of  marbre  on  a  piller  without, 
That  they  by  thritty  mile  about 
By  day  and  eke  also  by  night 
In  that  Mirrour  beholde  might 
Her  ennemies,  if  any  were, 
With  all  her  ordenaunce  there 
Which  they  ayein  the  citee  cast. 
So  that  while  thilke  Mirrour  last, 
Ther  was    no   lond  which  might 

acheve 

With  werre'  Rome  for  to  greve, 
Wherof  was  great  envie*  tho. 
And  fell  that  ilke  timd  so, 
That  Rome*  hadde  werres  stronge 
Ayein  Cartage,  and  stoden  longe 

1  Luce,  pike.  -  By  his  learning. 


The  two  citees  upon  debate. 
Cartdge  sigh  the  strong  estate 
Of  Rome  in  thilke  mirrour  stonde, 
And  thought  all  prively  to  fonde 
To  overthrowe  it  by  some  wile. 
And  Hanibal  was  thilke  while 
The  prince  and  leader  of  Cartdge, 
WThich  haddd  set  all  his  cordge 
Upon  knighthode  in  such  a  wise 
That  he  by  worthy  and  by  wise 
And  by  none  other  was  counseiled, 
Wherof  the  world  is  yet  merveiled 
Of  the  maistrids  that  he  wrought 
Upon  the  marches  which  he  sought. 
And  fell  in  thilkd  time  also, 
The  kinge  of  Puile*,  which  was  tho, 
Thought  ayein  Rome"  to  rebelle, 
And  thus  was  tak£  the  quarelle, 
How  to  destruie  the  Mirrour. 
Of  Rome*  tho  was  emperoiir 
Crassus,  which  was  so  covetous, 
That  he  was  ever  desirous, 
Of  gold  to  gete"  the  pilage, 
Wherof  that  Puile  and  eke  Cartage 
With  philosophres  wise  and  great 
Beginne  of  this  matere  to  treat. 
And  atte  last  in  this  degre 
There  weren  philosophres  thre 
To  do  this  thing  whiche  undertoke ; 
And  therupon  they  with  hem  toke 
A  great  tresure  of  gold  in  cofres 
To  Rome,  and  thus  these  philo 
sophres 

To-gider  in  compaignie  went, 
But  no  man  wiste  what  they  ment. 
Whan  they  to  Rome'  come'  were, 
So  prively  they  dwelte  there 
As  they  that  thoughten  to  deceive  ; 
Was  none  that  might  of  hem  per 
ceive 

Till  they  in  sondry  stedds  have 
Her  gold  under  the  erth  begrave 
In  two  tresdrs  that  to  beholde 
They  sliolden  seme  as  they  were 
olde. 


242 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  so  forth  than  upon  a  day 
All  openly  in  good  array 
To  themperour  they  hem  present 
And  tolden  it  was  her  entent 
To  dwellen  under  his  servise  ; 
And  he  hem  axeth  in  what  wise. 
And  they  him  told  in  such  a  plite  l 
That  eche  of  hem  had  a  spirite 
The  which  slepe'nd  anight  appereth 
And  hem  by  sondry  dremes  lereth 
After  the  world  that  hath  betid, 
Under  the  grounde  if  ought  be  hid 
Of  old  tresdr  at  any  throwe, 
They  shall  it    in   her    swevenes2 

knowe. 

And  upon  this  condition 
They  sain,  what  gold  under  the  town 
Of  Rome  is  hid,  they  woll  it  finde, 
There  shulde  nought  beleft  behinde 
Be  so  that  he  the  halve*  dele 
Hem  graunt,  and  he  assenteth  wele. 
And  thus  cam  Sleighte  for  to  dwelle 
With  Covetise  as  I  the  telle. 
This  emperour  bad  redely, 
That  they  be  loged  faste  by, 
Where  he  his  owne  body  lay. 
And  whan  it  was  at  morwe  day, 
That  one  of  hem  saith  that  hemette  3 
Where  he  a  gold  hord  shulde  fette, 
Wherof  this  emperour  was  glad. 
And  therupon  anone  he  bad 
His  minours  for  to  go  and  mine, 
And  he  him  self  of  that  covine 
Goth  forth  withall,  and  at  his  honde 
The  tresor  redy  there  he  fonde 
Where  as  they  said  it  shulde  be. 
And  who  was  thanne'  glad  but  he  ? 
"  Upon  that  other  day  secounde 
They  have  an  other  gold  hord  founde. 
Which  the  seconde  maister  toke 
Upon  his  sweven  and  undertoke. 
And  thus  the  soth  experience 
To  themperour  yaf  such  credence, 

1  Plite,  promise.        2  Swevenes,  dreams. 
3  Mette,  dreamed. 


That  all  his  trust  and  all  his  feith 
So  sikerliche  on  hem  he  laith 
Of  that  he  found  him  so  releved,1 
That  they  ben  parfitly  beleved, 
As  though  they  were  goddes  thre. 
Now  herkeneth  the  subtilite 
The  thridde  maister  shulde  mete, 
Whiche  as  theysaiden  was  unmete2 
Above  hem  all,  and  couthe  most, 
And  he  withoute  noise  or  bost 
All  privelich,  so  as  he  wolde, 
Upon  the  morwe  his  swevenes  tolde 
To  themperour  right  in  his  ere 
And  said  him,  that  he  wiste  where 
A  tresor  was  so  plenteous 
Of  golde  and  eke  so  precious 
Of  jeuelles  and  of  rich  stones, 
That  unto  all  his  hors  at  ones 
It  were  a  charge  suffisaunt. 
This  lord  upon  this  covenaunt 
Was  glad  and  axeth  where  it  was  : 
The  maister  said,  under  the  glas. 
He  tolde  him  eke  as  for  the  mine 
He  wolde  ordeigne'  such  engine, 
That  they  the  werk  shulde  under- 

sette 

With  timber,  and  withoute  lette 
Men  may  the  tresor  saufly  delve, 
So  that  the  Mirrour  by  him  selve 
Without  empeirement  shal  stonde. 
All  this  the  maister  upon  honde 
Hath  undertake  in  alle  wey. 
This  lord,  whiche  had  his  wit  awey 
And  was  with  Covetise  blent, 
Anone  therto  yaf  his  assent. 
And  thus  they  mine  forth  withall, 
The  timber  set  up  over  all, 
Wherof  the  piller  stood  upright ; 
Till  it  befell  upon  a  night 
These  clerkes,  whan  they  were  ware 
Hov/  that  the  timber  only  bare 
The     piller    where     the     Mirrour 

stood, — 

1  Releved,  enriched,  as  by  reliefs  and  fines. 
-  Unmete,  immeasurably. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


243 


Her  sleighte  no  man  understood, — 
They  go  by  night  unto  the  mine 
With  pitch,  with  sulphre  and  rosine, 
And  whan  the  citee  was  aslepe, 
A  wilde  fire  into  the  depe 
They  cast  among  the  timber  werke, 
And  so  forth  while  the  night  was 

derke 

DesguiseM  in  a  pouer  array 
They  passeden  the  towne  er  day. 
And  whan  they  come  upon  an  hille, 
They  sighen  how  the  Mirrour  felle, 
Wherof  they  made'  joy  inough, 
And  eche  of  hem  with  other  lough 
And  saiden,  '  Lo,  what  Covetise 
May  do  with  hem  that  be  nought 

wise!' 

And  that  was  proved  afterwarde, 
For  every  lond  to  Rome  warde, 
Whiche  hadde  be  subgit  to-fore, 
Whan  this  Mirrour  was  so  forlore 
And  they  the  wonder  herde*  say, 
Anone  begunne'  disobey 
With  werrds  upon  every  side. 
And  thus  hath  Rome*  lost  his  pride 
And  was  defouled  over  all. 
For  this  I  finde  of  Hanibal, 
That  he  of  Remains  in  a  day 
Whan  he  hem  found  out  of  array, 
So  great  a  multitude  slough, 
That  of  gold  ringes  which  he  drough 
Of  gentil  honde's  that  ben  dede 
Busshelles  fulle  thre  I  rede 
He  filled,  and  made  a  brigge  also 
That  he  might  over  Tiber  go 
Upon  the  corps  that  dedd  were 
Of  the  Remains  whiche  he  slough 

there. 

"  But  now  to  speke  of  the  juise, 
The  which  after  the  Covetise 
Was  take  upon  this  emperour, 
For  he  destruie'd  the  Mirrour, 
It  is  a  wonder  for  to  here. 
The  Remains  maden  a  chaiere 
And  set  her  emperour  therinne 


And  saiden,  for  he  wolde'  winne 

Of  gold  the  superfluity 

Of  golde  he  shulde*  such  plente* 

Receive*  till  he  saide*  'ho.' 

And  with  gold  which  they  hadde  tho 

Boilendd  hot  within  a  panne, 

Into  his  mouth  they  poure  thanne. 

And  thus  the  thurst  of  gold  was 

queint 

With  gold  whiche  hadd£  benatteint. 
"Wherof,  my  sone',  thou  might 

here, 

Whan  Covetise  hath  lost  the  stere 
Of  resondble  governaunce, 
There  falleth  ofte  great  grevaunce. 
For  there  may  be  no  worse  thing 
Than  Covetise  about  a  king. 
If  it  in  his  person^  be 
It  doth  the  more  adversite*; 
And  if  it  in  his  counseil  stonde 
It    bringeth  all  day   mischefe    to 

honde 

Of  comun  harme ;  and  if  it  growe 
Within  his  court,  it  woll  be  knowe, 
For  thanne'  shall  the  king  be  pilled.1 
The  man,  whiche  hath  his  londd 

tilled, 

Awaiteth  nought  more  redely 
The  hervest,  than  they  gredily 
Nemaken  thanne'  warde  andwacche 
Where    they    the    profit    mighten 

cacche. 

And  yet  full  oft  it  falleth  so, 
As  men  may  sene  among  hem  tho, 
That  he  which  most  coveiteth  fast 
Hath  leest  avauntage  atte'  last. 
For  whan  fortune  is  there  ayein, 
Though  he  coveite  it  is  in  veine, 
The  happes  ben  nought  alle'  liche, 
One  is  made  pouer,  an  other  riche, 
The  court  to  some  it  doth  profile, 
And  some  ben  ever  in  o  plite. 
And  yet  they  both  alicne*  sore 
Coveitd,  but  fortune  is  more 
l  Pilled,  fleeced. 


244 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Unto  that  o  part  favourable ; 
And  though  it  be  nought  resona"  ble, 
This  thing  a  man  may  sene  al  day, 
Wherof  that  I  the  telle  may 
After  ensample  in  remembraunce, 
How    every    man    may    take    his 

chaunce 

Or  of  richesse  or  of  pouerte, 
How  so  it  stonde  of  the  deserte. 
Here  is  nought  eveiy  thing  acquit, 
For  oft  a  man  may  se  this  yit 
That  who  best  doth  lest  thank  shal 

have; 
It   helpeth   nought,  the  world  to 

crave, 

Whiche  out  of  reule  and  of  mesure 
Hath  ever  stonde  in  aventure 
Als  well  in  court  as  elles  where ; 
And  how  in  olde  daies  there 
It  stood  so  as  the  thinge's  felle, 
I  thenke  a  tal£  for  to  telle. 
^    "  gn  a  crontqu^  this  I  rede  : 
About  a  kinge  as  it  must  nede 
There  was  of  knighte's  and  squiers 
Great  route  and  eke  of  officers. 
Some  of  long  time  him  hadden  served 
And  thoughten  that  they  have  de 
served 

Avauncement  and  gone  withoute  ; 
And  some  also  ben  of  the  route 
That  comen  but  a  while  agone, 
And  they  avaunced  were  anone. 
These  olde*  men  upon  this  thing 
So  as  they  durst  ayein  the  king 
Among  hem  self  compleignen  ofte. 
But  there  is  nothing  said  so  softe, 
That  it  ne  cometh  out  at  last. 
The  king  it  wist  anone  als  fast 
As  he  which  was  of  high  prudence. 
He  shope  therfore  an  evidence 
Of  hem  that  pleignen  in  that  cas, 
To  knowe  in  whose  default  it  was. 
And  all  within  his  owne  entent, 
That  no  man  wiste  what  it  ment 
Anone  he  let  two  cofres  make 


Of  one  semblaunce  and  of  o  make, 
So  lich  that  no  life  thilke  throwe l 
That  one  may  fro  that  other  knowe. 
They  were  into  his  chambre 

brought, 
But   no    man    wot   why   they   be 

wrought. 

And  netheles  the  king  hath  bede, 
That  they  be  set  in  prive  stede, 
As  he  that  was  of  wisdom  sligh. 
Whan  he  therto  his  time  sigh 
All  privelich,  that  none  it  wist, 
His  owne  honde's  that  o  kist 
Of  fine  golde  and  of  fine  perrie, 
The  which  out  of  his  tresorie 
Was  take,  anone  he  filde  full, 
That  other  cofre  of  strawe  and  mull 2 
With  stones  meind  he  filde  also. 
Thus  be  they  fulle  bothe  two. 
So  that  erliche  upon  a  day 
He  bad  withinne  where  he  lay 
There  shulde  be  to-fore  his  bedde 
A  borde  up  set  and  faire  spredde. 
And  than  he  let  the  cofres  fet, 
Upon  the  borde  and  did  hem  set.3 
He  knew  the  names  well  of  tho, 
The  whiche  ayein  him  grucche  so 
Both  of  his   chambre  and  of  his 

halle, 

Anone  and  sende  for  hem  alle 
And  saide  to  hem  in  this  wise  : 
'There  shall  no  man  his   hap 

despise ; 

I  wot  well  ye  have  longe  served, 
And  God  wot  what  ye   have  de 
served. 

But  if  it  is  along  on  me 
Of  that  ye  unavaunced  be 
Or  elles  it  belonge  on  you, 
The  soth6  shall  be  proved  now 
To  stoppe  with  your  evil  worde. 
Lo  here  two  cofres  on  the  borde, 

1  Nobody  at  that  time. 

2  Mull,  dirt,  rubbish. 

3  And    caused   them  to  be    set    upon    the 
board. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


245 


Chese  whiche  you  list  of  bothe  two 
And  witeth  well,  that  one  of  tho 
Is  with  tresor  so  full  begon 
That  if  ye  happe*  therupon 
Ye  shal  be  richd  men  for  ever. 
Now  chese  and  take  whiche  you  is 

lever. 

But  be  well  ware,  er  that  ye  take, 
For  of  that  one  I  undertake 
There  is  no  maner  good  therinne 
Whereof  ye  mighten  profit  winne. 
Now  goth  to-gider  of  one  assent 
And  taketh  your  advisement, 
For  but  I  you  this  day  avaunce 
It  stant  upon  your  owne  chaunce  : 
All  only  in  default  of  grace 
So  shall  be  shewed  in  this  place 
Upon  you  alle*  well  and  fine, 
That  no  defaulte"  shall  be  mine.' 
"  They  knelen  all  and  with  one 

vois 

The  king  they  thonken  of  this  chois. 
And  after  that  they  up  arise 
And  gon  aside  and  hem  avise 
And  attd  laste*  they  accorde, 
Wherof  her  tal£  to  recorde 
To  what  issud  they  be  falle 
A  knight  shall  spekd  for  hem  alle. 
He  kneleth  down  unto  the  king 
And  saith,  that  they  upon  this  thing 
Or  for  to  winne  or  for  to  lese 
Ben  all  avised  for  to  chese. 

"  Tho  toke  this  knight  a  yerd  on 

hond 

And  goth  there  as  the  cofres  stond 
And  with  thassent  of  everychone 
He  lai'th  his  yerde  upon  one 
And  saith  the  king  how  thilke*  same 
They  chese  in  reguerddn  by  name, 
And  preith  him  that  they  might  it 

have. 
The  king,  which  wold  his  honour 

save, 

When  he  hath  herd  the  comun  vois 
Hath  graunted  hem  her  own£  chois 


And  toke  hem  therupon  the  key. 
But  for  he  wolde  it  were  say 
What  good  they  have  as  they  sup 
pose, 

He  bad  anone  the  cofre  unclose, — 
Which  was  fulfilled  with  straw  and 

stones, 

Thus  be  they  served  all  at  ones. 
This  king  than  in  the  same*  stede 
Anone  that  other  cofre  undede, 
Where  as  they  sighen  great  richesse 
Wei  more  than  they  couthen  gesse. 
'  Lo,'  saith  the  king,  'now  may  ye  se, 
That  there  is  no  defaulte  in  me, 
Forthy  my  self  I  woll  acquite 
And  bereth  ye  your  owne*  wite  1 
Of  that  fortune  hath  you  refused.' 
Thus  was  this  wisd  king  excused, 
And  they  lefte  of  her  evil  speche 
And  mercy  of  her  king  beseche. 

"  §om6ole  to  this  matere"  like 
I  finde  a  tale,  how  Frederike, 
Of  Rome*  that  time  emperour, 
Herde,  as  he  went,  a  great  clamour 
Of  two  beggers  upon  the  way, 
That  one  of  hem  began  to  say  : 
*  Ha  lord,  wel  may  the  man  be  riche, 
Whom  that  a  king  list  for  to  riche.' 
That  other  said  :  '  No  thinge  so, 
But  he  is  riche  and  well  bego, 
To  whom  that  God  wol  sende  wele.' 
And  thus  they  maden  wordds  fele, 
Wherof  this  lord  hath  hede*  nome 
And  did  hem  bothe"  for  to  come 
To  the  paleis  where  he  shall  etc, 
And  bad  ordeigne*  for  her  mete 
Two  pastees  which  he  let  do  make ; 
A  capon  in  that  one  was  bake, 
And  in  that  other,  for  to  winne, 
Of  floreins  all  that  may  withinne 
He  let  do  put  a  great  richesse, 
And  even  aliche  as  man  may  gesse 
Outward  they  were*  bothe*  two. 
This  begger  was  commaunded  tho, 

1  W He,  blame. 


246 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


He  that  which  held  him  to  the  king, 
That  he  first  chese  upon  this  thing. 
Hesigh  hem,  buthe  felthem  nought, 
So  that  upon  his  owne  thought 
He  chese  the  capon  and  forsoke 
That  other,  which  his  felaw  toke. 
But  whan  he  wist  how  that  it  ferde, 
He  said  aloud,  that  men  it  herde : 
'  Now  have  I  certainly  conceived, 
That  he  may  lightly  be  deceived 
That  tristeth  unto  mannes  helpe. 
But  wel  is  him,  that  God  wol  helpe, 
For  he  stant  on  the  siker  side, 
Whiche  die's  shulde  go  beside. 
I  se  my  felaw  wel  recouer, 
And  I  mot  dwelle"  stille  pouer. 
Thus  spake  the  begger  his  entent, 
Andpouerhecamandpouerhewent, 
Of  that  he  hath  richesse  sought 
His  infortune  it  wolde  nought. 
So  may  it  shewe  in  sondry  wise 
Betwene  Fortune  and  Covetise 
The  chaunce  is  cast  upon  a  dee, 
But  yet  full  oft  a  man  may  see 
Inough  of  suche  netheles 
Which  ever  put  hem  self  in  pres 
To  get  hem  good,  and  yet  they  faile. 
"And  for  to  speke  of  this  entaile 
Touchend  of  Love  in  thy  matere, 
My  gode  sone,  as  thou  might  here, 
That  right  as  it  with  tho  men  stood 
Of  infortune  of  worldes  good, 
As  thou  hast  herd  me  tell  above, 
Right  so  full  ofte  it  stant  by  Love ; 
Though  thou  coveite  it  evermore 
Thou  shalt  nought  have  o  dele  the 

more, 

But  only  that  which  the  is  shape, 
The  remenaunt  is  but  a  jape. 
And  netheles  inough  of  tho 
There  ben  that  now  coveiten  so 
That  where  as  they  a  woman  se, 
To  ten  or  twelve  though  there  be, 
The  love  is  now  so  unavised 
That  where  the  beaute'  stant  assised 


The  mannes  herte  anone  is  there 
And  rouneth1  tales  in  her  ere 
And  saith,  how  that  heloveth  streite. 
And  thus  he  set  him  to  coveite, 
An  hundred  though  he  sigh  a  day, 
So  wolde  he  more  than  he  may. 
So  for  the  grete  Covetise 
Of  soty2  and  of  fool  emprise 
In  eche  of  hem  he  fint  somwhat, 
That  pleseth  him,  or  this  or  that  : 
Some  one,  for  she  is  white  of  skinne, 
Some  one,  for  she  is  noble  of  kinnc, 
Some  one,  for  she  hath  a  rodycheke, 
Some  one,  for  that  she  semeth  meke, 
Some  one,  for  she  hath  eyen  grey, 
Some  one,  for  she  can  laugh  and  pley, 
Some  one,  for  she  is  longeand  small, 
Some  one,  for  she  is  lithe  and  tall, 
Some  one,  forshe  is  pale  and  bleche, 
Some  one,  for  she  is  softe  of  speche, 
Some  one,  for  that  she  is  camused,3 
Some  one,  for  she  hath  nought  ben 

used, 
Some  one,  for  she  can  daunce  and 

sing, 

So  that  some  thing  of  his  liking 
He  fint  y  and  though  no  more  he 

fele 

But  that  she  hath  a  litel  hele, 
It  is  inough,-  that  he  therfore 
Herlove;  and  thus  an  hundred  score, 
While  they  be  new,  he  wolde  he  had, 
Whomheforsaketh  she  shall  be  bad. 
The  blinde  man  no  colour  demeth, 
But  all  is  one  right  as  him  semeth  ; 
So  hath  his  lust  no  jugement 
Whom  Covetise  of  Love  blent.4 
Him  thenketh,  to  his  Covetise, 
How  all  the  world  ne  may  sufnse, 
For  by  his  will  he  wolde  have  all, 
If  that  it  mighte  so  befall. 
So  is  he  comun  as  the  strete, 


1  Rouneth,  whisper.  "  Soty,  folly. 

3  Camused,  with  a  curve  in  th^nose. 

4  Blent,  blinds. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


247 


I  scttd  nought  of  his  beyete. 
My    sone,    hast   thou    such   cove- 
tise  ?  "— 

"  Nay  fader,  such  love  I  despise, 
And  while  I  live  shal  don  ever, 
For  in  good  feith  yet  had  I  lever 
Than  to  coveite  in  suche  a  wey 
To  ben  for  ever  till  I  deie 
As  pouer  as  Job  and  loveles 
Out  taken  one,  for  have'les 
His  thonke's l  is  no  man  alive, 
For  that  a  man  shulde  all  unthrive 
There  ought  no  wise'  man  coveite, 
The  lawe  was  nought  set  so  streite. 
Forthy  my  self  withall  to  save 
Suche  one  there  is  I  wolde  have 
And  none  of  all  this  other  mo." — 

"My  sone,  of  thatthouwoldestso, 
I  am  nought  wroth  •  but  over  this 
I  woll  the  tellen  howe  it  is. 
For  there  be  men  which  other  wise 
Right  only  for  the  covetise 
Of  that  they  seen  a  woman  riche, 
There  wol  they  all  her  love  affiche. 
Nought  for  the  beaute  of  her  face, 
Ne  yet  for  vertu,  ne  for  grace, 
Which  she  hath  die's  right  inough, 
But  for  the  parke  and  for  the  plough 
And    other     thing    which    therto 

longeth, 

i    For  in  none  other  wise  hem  longeth 
To  love'  but2  they  profit  finde. 
And  if  the  profit  be  behinde, 
Her  3  love  is  ever  lesse  and  lesse, 
For  after  that  she  hath  richesse 
Her  love  is  of  proportion. 
If  thou  hast  such  conditidn, 
My  sone,  tell  right  as  it  is." — 

"  Min  holy  fader,  nay  iwis, 
Condicion  such  have  I  none. 
For  truly  fader,  I  love  one 
So  well,  with  all  min  hertes  thought, 


1  Ilavelcs  his  t/ionkts,  wanting  possession, 
with  his  own  good  will, 
a  But,  unless.  3  Her  their. 


That    certes    though    she    haddc 

nought 

And  were  as  pouer  as  Meded, 
Which  was  exildd  for  Creusd, 
I  wolde  her  nought  the  lassd  love  ; 
Ne  though  she  were  at  her  above 
As  was  the  richd  quene  Candace, 
Which  to  deserve'  love  and  grace 
To  Alisaundre  that  was  king 
Yaf  many  a  worthy  riche'  thing  ; 
Or  elles  as  Pantasilee, 
Which  was  the  quene  of  Feminee 
And  great  richesse'  with  her  nam 
Whan  she  for  love  of  Hector  cam 
To  Troy  in  rescousse  of  the  town  ; 
I  am  of  such  condicioun, 
That  though  my  lady  of  her  selve 
Were  al  so  riche  as  suche  twelve, 
I  couthe  nought  though  it  were  so 
No  better  love  her  than  I  do. 
For  I  love  in  so  pleine l  a  wise, 
That  for  to  speke  of  Covetise 
As  for  pouerte  or  for  richesse 
My  love  is  nouther  more  ne  lesse. 
For  in  good  feith  I  trowe  this, 
So  covetous  no  man  there  is 
For  why  and  he  my  lady  sigh 
That  he  through  loking  of  his  eye 
Ne  shuld  have  such  a  stroke  withinnc 
That  for  no  gold  he  mighte*  winne 
He  shuldd  nought  her  love  asterte 
But  if  he  leftd  there  his  herte  : 
Be  so  it  werd  such  a  man 
That  couthe  skille  of  a  womdn. 
For  there  ben  men  so  rude  some 
Whan  they  among  the  women  come 
They  gon  under  protection, 
That  love  and  his  affection 
Ne  shal  nought  take  hem  by  the  sieve 
For  they  ben  out  of  that  beleve  ; 
Hem  lusteth  of  no  lady  chere, 
But  ever  thenken  there  and  here 
Where  that  her  golde  is  in  the  cofre 
And  wol  none  other  love  profer. 

1  Pleine,  full. 


248 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  who  so  wot  whatloveamounteth 
And  by  reson  truliche  accompteth, 
Than  may  he  knowe  and  taken  hede 
That  all  the  lust  of  womanhede 
Which  may  ben  in  a  ladies  face 
My  lady  hath,  and  eke  of  grace, 
If  men  shuld  yiven  her  apprise 
They  may  wel  say  how  she  is  wise 
And   sober    and   simple   of   coun- 

tenaunce, 

And  all  that  to  good  governaunce 
Belongeth  of  a  worthy  wight 
She  hath  pleinly.     For  thilke  night 
That  she  was  bore  as  for  the  nones 
Nature  set  in  her  at  ones 
Beaute  with  bounte  so  besein, 
That  I  may  well  afferme  and  sain, 
I  sigh  yet  never  creature 
Of  comlyhede  and  of  feture 
In  any  kinges  region 
Be  liche  her  in  comparison. 
And  therto,  as  I  have  you  tolde, 
Yet  hath  she  more  a  thousand  folde 
Of  bounte,  and  shortly  to  telle 
She  is  the  pure  hede  and  welle 
And  mirrour  and  ensample  of  good ; 
Who  so  her  vertues  understood 
Me  thenketh  it  ought  inough  suffise 
Withouten  other  Covetise 
To  love  suche  one  and  to  serve, 
Which  with  her  chere  can  deserve 
To  be  beloved  better  iwis 
Than  she  par  cas  that  richest  is 
And  hath  of  golde  a  million. 
Suche  hath  be  min  opinion 
And  ever  shall.      But  netheles 
I  say  she  is  nought  have'les,1 
That  she  nis  riche  and  well  at  ese 
And  hath  inough  wherwith  to  plese 
Of  worldes  good  whom  that  her  list. 
But  o  thing  wold  I  wel  ye  wist, 
That  never  for  no  worldes  good 
Min  hert  unto  ward  hire  stood, 
But  only  right  for  pure  love, 

1  Hav&les,  wanting  possessions. 


That  wot  the  highe*  God  above. 
Now  fader,  what  say  ye  therto  ?" — 

"  My  sone,  I  say  it  is  wel  do. 
For  take  of  this  right  good  beleve, 
What  man  that  wol  him  self  releve 
To  love  in  any  other  wise 
He  shall  wel  finde  his  Covetise 
Shall  sore  greve  him  atte  laste, 
For  such  a  love  may  nought  laste. 
But  now  men  sain  in  oure  daies 
Men  maken  but  a  few  assaies 
But  if  the  cause  be  richesse, 
Forthy  the  love  is  well  the  lesse. 
And  who  that  wold  ensamples  telle 
By  olde  daies  as  they  felle, 
Than  might  a  man  wel  understonde 
Such  love  may  nought  longe*  stonde. 
Now  herken,  sone,  and  thou  shalt 

here 
A  great  ensample  of  this  matere. 

^o  tret e  upon  the  cas  of  love, 
So  as  we  tolden  here  above, 
I  finde  write  a  wonder  thing. 
Of  Puile  whilom  was  a  king, 
A  man  of  high  complexion 
And  yong,  but  his  affection 
After  the  nature  of  his  age 
Was  yet  not  falle  in  his  cordge 
The  lust  of  women  for  to  knowe. 
So  it  betid  upon  a  thro  we, 
This  lord  fell  into  great  sikenesse. 
Phisique  hath  done  the  besinesse 
Of  sondry  cures  many  one 
To  make  him  hole,  and  therupon 
A  worthy  maister  which  there  was, 
Yaf  him  counseil  upon  this  cas, 
That  if  he  wolde  have  parfite  hele, 
He  shulde  with  a  woman  dele. 
For  than  he  said  him  redely, 
That  he  shal  be  al  hole  therby, 
And  other  wise  he  knew  no  cure. 
The  king,  which  stood  in  aventure 
Of  life  and  deth  for  medicine, 
Assented  was,  and  of  covine 
His  steward,  whom  he  trusteth  well, 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


249 


He  toke  and  told  him  every  dele, 
How  that  this  maister  hadde'  said. 
And  therupon  he  hath  him  praid 
And  charged  upon  his  legeaunce, 
That  he  do  make"  purveaunce 
And  badde  him,  how  that  ever  it 

stood, 

That  he  shall  spare*  for  no  good, 
For  his  will  is  right  well  to  pay. 
The  steward  said,  he  wolde  assay. 
"  But  now  here  after  thou  shalt 

wite, 

As  I  finde  in  the  bokes  write, 
What  Covetise  in  Love'  doth. 
This  steward,  for  to  telle  soth, 
Amonges  all  the  men  alive 
A  lusty  lady  hath  to  wive, 
Which  nethe'les  for  gold  he  toke 
And  nought  for  love,  as  saith  the 

boke. 

A  riche'  marchaunt  of  the  londe 
Her  fader  was,  and  he  her  fonde 
So  worthily  and  such  richesse 
Of  worlde's  good  and  such  largesse 
With  her  he  yaf  in  maria'ge, 
That  only  for  thilke  avauntdge 
Of  good  the  steward  hath  her  take, 
For  lucre  and  nought  for  loves  sake. 
And  that  was  afterward  wel  sene. 
No  we  herken,  what  it  wolde  mene. 
This  steward  in  his  ownd  hert 
Sigh  that  his  lord  may  nought  astert 
His  maladie  but  he  have 
A  lusty  woman  him  to  save, 
And  tho  he  wolde"  yive  inough 
Of  his  tresor  ;  wherof  he  drough 
Great  Covetise  into  his  minde 
And  set  his  honour  fer  behinde. 
Thus  he  whom  gold  hath  oversette 
Was  trapped  in  his  ownd  nette. 
The  gold  hath  made  his  winds  lame, 
So  that  seche'nd  his  owne*  shame 
He  rouneth  in  the  kingds  ere 
And  said  him  that  he  wiste*  where 
A  gentil  and  a  lusty  one 


Tho  was,  and  thider  wold  he  gone, 
But  he  mote  yivd  yeftes  great, 
For  but  it  be  through  great  beyete 
Of  gold,  he  said,  he  shuld  nought 

spede. 

The  king  him  bad  upon  the  nede 
That  take  an  hundred  pound  he 

sholde 

And  yive  it  where  that  he  wolde, 
Be  so  it  were  in  worthy  place. 
And  thus  to  stonde  in  love's  grace 
This  king  his  gold  hath  abanddned. 
And  whan  this  tale  was  full  rouned, 
The  steward  toke  the  gold  and  went 
Within  his  herte  and  many  a  went1 
Of  covetisd  than  he  caste, 
Wherof  a  purpos  attd  laste 
Ayein  love  and  ayein  his  right 
He  toke  and  saide,  how  thilke  night 
His  wife  shall  ligge*  by  the  king. 
And  goth  thenkdnd  upon  this  thing 
Toward  his  inn  till  he  cam  home 
Into  the  chambre,  and  than  he  nome 
His  wife  and  tolde  her  al  the  cas. 
And  she,  which  red  for  shame  was, 
With  bothe  her  hondes  hath  him 

praid 

Knetend  and  in  this  wise  said, 
That  she  to  reson  and  to  skill 
In  what  thing  that  he  bidde  will 
Is  redy  for  to  done  his  heste 
But2  this  thing  that  were  nought 

hone'ste, 

That  he  for  gold  her  shulde'  selle. 
And  he  tho  with  his  worde's  felle 
Forth  with  his  gastly  countenaunce 
Saith,  that  she  shall  done  obeisaunce 
And  folwe  his  wille  in  every  place. 
And  thus  through  strength  of  his 

mandce 

Her  innocence  is  overladde, 
Wherof  she  was  so  sore  adradde, 
That  she  his  will  mot  nede  obey. 
And  therupon  was  shape  a  wey. 

1  Went,  turn.  a  But,  except. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


When  it  was  nigh  upon  the  day 
The  steward  thanne  where  she  lay 
Cam  to  the  bed  and  in  this  wise 
Hath  bidde*  that  she  shulde  arise. 
The  king  saith  :   *  Nay,  she  shall 

nought  go.' 

The  steward  said  ayein:  'Nought  so, 
For  she  mot  gone  er  it  be  knowe, 
And  so  I  swore  at  thilke'  throwe, 
Whan  I  her  fette  to  you  here.' 
The  king  his  tale  wol  nought  here 
And  saith  how  that  he  hath  her 

bought 

Forthy  she  shall  departe  nought, 
But  who  she  was  he  knew  nothing. 
Tho  cam  the  steward  to  the  king 
And  praid  him  that  withoute  shame 
In  saving  of  her  gode  name 
He  mighte  leaden  home  ayeine 
This  lady,  and  hath  told  him  pleine 
How  that  it  was  his  owne  wife. 
The  king  his  ere  unto  this  strife 
Hathleid,  and  whan  that  he  it  herde, 
Well  nigh  out  of  his  wit  he  ferde 
And  said  :  '  Ha,  caitif  most  of  alle, 
Where  was  it  ever  er  this  befalle, 
That  any  cokard  in  this  wise 
Betoke  his  wife  for  covetise. 
Thou  hast  botheherand  me  beguiled 
And  eke  thin  own  estate  reviled, 
Wherof  that  buxom  unto  the 
Here  after  shall  she  never  be. 
For  this  avow  to  God  I  make 
After  this  day,  if  I  the  take, 
Thou  shalt  behonged  and  to-drawe. 
Now  loke  anone  thou  be  withdrawe, 
So  that  I  se  the  never  more  ! ' 
This  steward  thanne  drad  him  sore, 
With  all  the  haste  that  he  may 
And  fled  awey  the  same  day, 
And  was  exiled  out  of  lond. 

Lo,  there  a  nice  huse'bond, 
Which  thus  hath  loste-his  wife  for 

ever. 
But  netheles  she  hadde  a  lever  • 


The  king  her  weddeth  and  honour- 

eth, 

Wherof  her  name  she  soQCoureth, 
Which  erst  waslostthrough covetise 
Of  him  that  lad  her  other  wise 
And  hath  him  self  also  forlore. 

"  My  sone,  be  thou  ware  therfore, 
Where  thou  shalt  love  in  any  place, 
That  thou  no  Covetise  embrace, 
The  which  is  nought  of  Loves  kinde. 
But  for  all  that  a  man  may  finde 
Now  in  this  time  of  thilke  rage 
Full  great  disese  in  maridge, 
Whan  venim  medleth  with  the  sucre 
And  maridge  is  made  for  lucre 
Or  for  the  lust  or  for  the  hele, 
What  man  that  shall  with  other  dele 
He  may  nought  faile  to  repent." — 

"  My  fader,  such  is  min  entent. 
But  netheles  good  is  to  have, 
For  good  may  ofte  time  save 
The  love  which  shulde  elles  spille. 
But  God  which  wot  min  hertes  wille 
I  dar  wel  take  to  witnesse, 
Yet  was  I  never  for  richesse 
Beset  with  maridgd  none^ 
For  all  min  herte  is  upon  one 
So  frely  that  in  the  persone 
Stant  all  my  worlde's  joy  alone. 
I  axe  nouther  park  ne  plough, 
If  I  her  hadde,  it  were  inougb, 
Her  love  shulde  me  suffise 
Withouten  other  Covetise. 
Lo  now,  my  fader,  as  of  this 
Touchend  of  me  right  as  it  is 
My  shrifte  I  am  beknowe  plein, 
And  if  ye  wol  ought  elles  sain 
Of  Covetise  if  there  be  more 
In  Love,  agropeth  out  the  sore. 

'j&Tg   son^,    thou    shalt    under- 

stonde, 

How  Covetise  hath  yet  on  honde 
In  speciall  two  counsellors, 
That  ben  also  his  procurers. 
The  first  of  hem  is  Fals  Witnesse, 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


251 


Which  ever  is  rcdy  to  witnesse 
What  thing  his  maister  woll  him 

hote.1 

Perjurie  is  the  second  hote,2 
Which  spareth  nought  to  swere  an 

othe 
Though   it   be  fals  and   God    be 

wrothe, 

That  one  shall  fals  witnesse  bere, 
That  other  shall  the  thing  forswere 
When  he  is  charged  on  the  boke. 
So  what  with  hoke  and  what  with 

croke 

They  make  her  maister  ofte  winne 
And  woll  noughtknowd  what  is  sinne 
For  Covetise,  and  thus  men  sain 
They  maken  many  a  fals  bargafn. 
There  may  no  trewd  quarel  arise 
In  thilkd  queste  of  thilke  assise 
Where  as  they  two  the  people  en- 
forme. 

For  they  kepe  ever  o3  maner  forme, 
That  upon  golde  her  4  conscience 
They  founde  and  take  her  evidence. 
And  thus  with  Fals  Witnesse  and 

othes 
They  winne  hem  metd,  drink  and 

clothes. 
Right  so  there  be,  who  that  hem 

knewe, 

Of  these  lovers  ful  many  untrewe. 
Now  may  a  woman  finde  inow, 
That  eche  of  hem  whan  he  shall 

wowe 

Anone  he  woll  his  hand  down  lain 
Upon  a  boke  and  swere  and  sain 
That  he  woll  feith  and  trouthd  bcre. 
And  thus  he  profreth  him  to  swere 
To  serven  ever  till  he  deie, 
And  all  is  verray  trechery. 
For  whan  the  soth  him  selventrieth, 
The  more  he  swereth  the  more  he 
lieth, 


1  Hote,  command. 
3  O,  one. 


2  Hote,  called. 
*  Her,  their. 


Whan  he  his  feith  makcth  allther- 

mest,1 

Than  may  a  woman  trust  him  lest, 
For  till  he  may  his  will  acheve, 
He  is  no  lenger  for  to  leve. 
Thus  is  the  trouth  of  love  exiled, 
And  many  a  good  womdn  beguiled. 
"  And  eke  to  speke  of  Fals  Wit 
nesse 

There  be  now  many  such  I  gesso, 
That  lich  unto  the  provisours 
They  make  her  privd  procurours 
To  tell  how  there  is  such  man, 
Which  is  worthy  to  love  and  can 
All  that  a  good  man  shulde  connc, 
So  that  with  lesing  is  begonne 
The    cause,    in    which    they   woll 

precede. 

And  al  so  siker  as  the  Crede 
They  make  of  that  they  knowen  fals, 
And  thus  full  oft  about  the  hals  2 
Love  is  of  false  men  embraced. 
But  lovd  which  is  so  purchased, 
Cometh  afterward  to  litel  prise. 
Forthy,  my  sone,  if  thou  be  wise, 
Now  thou  hast  herd  this  evidence, 
Thou  might  thin  ownd  conscience 
Oppose,  if  thou  hast  be  such  one. "- 

"  Nay  God  wot,  fader,  I  am  none 
Ne  never  was,  for,  as  men  saith, 
Whan  that  aman  shall  make  his  feith 
His  hert  and  tunge  must  accorde. 
For  if  so  be  that  they  discorde 
Than  he  is  fals,  and  elles  nought, 
And  I  dare  say  as  of  my  thought 
In  love  it  is  nought  discorddble 
Unto  my  word,  but  accorddble. 
And  in  this  wise*,  fader,  I 
May  rightd  well  swere  and  saufly. 
That  I  my  lady  lovd  well, 
For  that  accordeth  every  dele  ; 
It  nedeth  nought  to  my  soth  sawe 
That  I  witness^  shulde  drawe 

1  Allthertncst,  most  of  all. 
3  Hals,  neck. 


252 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Into  this  day,  for  ever  yit 
Ne  might  it  sinke  into  my  wit 
That  I  my  counseil  shoulde  say 
To  any  wight  or  me  bewrey  1 
To  sechen  helpe  in  such  manere, 
But  onely  for  my  lady  dere. 
And  though  a  thousand  men  it  wiste 
That  I  her  love,  and  than  hem  liste 
With  me  to  swere  and  to  witnesse, 
Yet  were  that  no  fals  witne'sse. 
For  I  dare  unto  this  trouth  dwelle, 
I  love  her  more  than  I  can  telle. 
Thus  am  I,  fader,  gilteles, 
As  ye  have  herde,  and  netheles 
In  youre  dome  I  put  it  all." — 

"  My  sone,  wite  in  speciall 
It  shall  nought  comunliche  faile, 
All  though  it  for  a  time  availe 
That  Fals  Witnesse  his  cause  spede 
Upon  the  point  of  his  falshede ; 
It  shall  well  afterward  be  kid, 
Wherof  so  as  it  is  betid 
Ensample  of  such  thinges  blinde 
In  a  cronique  write  I  finde. 

Itfje  gobbesse  of  f fje  see  Thetis, 
She  had  a  sone,  and  his  name  is 
Achilles,  whom  to  kepe  and  warde, 
While  he  was  yonge,  and  into  warde 
She  thought  him  saufly  to  betake 
As  she  which  dradde  for  his  sake 
Of  that  was  said  of  prophecie, 
That  he  at  Troie  sholde'  deie 
Whan  that  the  citee  was  belein. 
Forthy  so  as  the  bokes  sain, 
She  cast  her  wit  in  sondry  wise, 
How  she  him  mighte  so  desguise 
That  no  man  shuld  his  body  knowe. 
And  so  befell  that  ilke  throwe 
While  that  she  thought  upon  this 

dede, 

There  was  a  king,  which  Lichomede 
WTas  hote,  and  he  was  well  begone 
With  faire  doughters  many  one 
And  dwelte  fer  out  in  an  ile. 

1  Me  lewrey,  disclose  myself. 


Now  shalt  thou  here  a  wonder  wile. 
This  quene  which  the  mother  was 
Of  Achilles,  upon  this  cas 
Her  sone  as  he  a  maiden  were 
Let  clothen  in  the  same  gere, 
Which  longeth  unto  womanhede. 
And  he  was  yonge  and  toke  none 

hede 

But  suffreth  all  that  she  him  dede, 
Wherof  she  hath  her  women  bede 
And  chargeth  by  her  othes  alle, 
How  so  it  afterward  befalle, 
That  they  discover  nought  this  thing, 
But  feigne  and  make  a  knouleching 
Upon  the  counseil  which  was  nome, 
In  every  place  &here  they  come 
To  telle  and  to  witnesse  this, 
Howe  he  her  ladies  doughter  is. 
And  right  in  such  a  maner  wise 
She  bad  they  shuld  her  don  servise, 
So  that  Achilles  underfongeth 
As  to  a  yong  lad^  belongeth 
Honour,  service  and  reverence. 
For  Thetis  with  great  diligence 
Him  hath  so  taught  and  so  affaited 
That,  how  so  that  he  were  awaited, 
With  sobre  and  goodly  contenaunce 
He  shuld  his  womanhede  avaunce 
That  none  the  sothe  knowe  might, 
But  that  in  every  mannes  sight 
He  shulde'  seme  a  pure  maide. 
And  in  such  wise  as  she  him  said 
Achilles,  which  that  ilke  while 
Was  yonge,  upon  him  selfe  to  smile 
Began,  whan  he  was  so  besein. 
And  thus  after  the  bokes  sain 
With  frette  of  perle  upon  his  hede 
All  fresshe  betwene  white  and  red, 
As  he  which  tho  was  tender  of  age, 
Stood  the  colour  in  his  visage, 
That  for  to  loke  upon  his  cheke 
And  seen  his  childly  maner  eke 
He  was  a  woman  to  beholde. 
And  than  his  moder  to  him  tolde, 
That  she  him  hadde  so  begone 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


253 


By  cause  that  she  thoughte'  gone 
To  Lichomede  at  thilkd  tide, 
Where  that  she  said,  he  shulde  abide 
Amonge  his  doughters  for  to  dwelle. 
Achilles  herd  his  moder  telle 
And  wiste  nought  the  cause  why. 
And  netheles  full  buxomly 
He  was  redy  to  that  she  bad, 
Wherof  his  moder  was  right  glad. 
To  Lichomede  and  forth  they  went, 
And  whan  the  kingkneweherentent 
And  sigh  this  yonge  doughter  there, 
And  that  it  came  unto  his  ere 
Of  such  recdrd,  of  such  witnesse, 
He  hadd6  right  a  great  gladnesse 
Of  that  he  bothe  sigh  and  herde, 
As  he  that  wot  nought  how  it  ferde 
Upon  the  counseil  of  the  nede. 
But  for  all  that  king  Lichomede 
Hath  toward  him  his  doughter  take 
And  for  Thetis  his  moder  sake 
He  put  her  into  compaigny 
To  dwelle  with  Dei'damy, 
His  owne  doughter  the  eldest, 
The  fairest  and  the  comliest 
Of  al  his  doughters  which  he  had. 
Lo,  thus  Thetis  the  cause  lad 
And  lefte  there  Achilles  feigned, 
As  he  which  hath  him  self  restreigned 
In  all  that  ever  he  may  and  can 
Out  of  the  maner  of  a  man 
And  toke  his  womanisshe  chere, 
Wherof  unto  his  beddefere 
Dei'damy  he  hath  by  night, 
Where  kinde  will  him  selve  right 
After  the  philos6phres  sain, 
There  may  no  wight  be  there  ayein. 
And  it  befell  that  ilke'  throwe 
At  Troie,  where  the  siege'  lay 
Upon  the  cause  of  Menelay 
And  of  his  quene*  dame  Heleine, 
The  Gregois  hadden  mochel  peine 
All  day  to  fight  and  to  assaile. 
But  for  they  mighten  nought  availe 
So  noble  a  citee  for  to  winne 


A  prive'  counseil  they  beginne 
In  sondry  wise  where  they  treat 
And  atte'  laste  among  the  great 
They  fellen  unto  this  accorde, 
That  Protheus  of  his  recorde, 
Which  was  an  astronomien 
And  eke  a  great  magicien, 
Shulde  of  his  calculatidn 
Sechen  of  constellatidn 
How  they  the  citee  mighten  gette; 
And  he,  which  haddd  nought  foryete 
Of  that  belongeth  to  a  clerke, 
His  study  set  upon  this  werke. 
So  longe  his  wit  about  he  caste, 
Till  that  he  founde  out  atte  laste, 
But  if  they  hadden  Achilles 
Her  werre  shall  ben  endeles. 
And  over  that  he  tolde  hem  pleine 
In  what  mane'r  he  was  beseine 
And  in  what  place  he  shall  be  founde; 
So  that  within  a  litel  stounde l 
Ulixes  forth  with  Diomede 
Upon  this  point  to  Lichomede 
Agdmenon  to-gider  sente. 
But  Ulixes,  er  he  forth  wente, 
Which  was  one  of  the  moste  wise 
Ordeined  hath  in  such  a  wise, 
That  he  the  moste'  riche  array 
Wherof  a  woman  may  be  gay 
With  him  he  toke  manifolde  ; 
And  overmore,  as  it  is  tolde, 
An  harneis  for  a  lusty  knight, 
Which  burned  was  as  silver  bright, 
Of  swerde,of  plate,  andeke  of  maile. 
As  though  he  shulde  do  bataile, 
He  toke  also  with  him  by  ship. 
And  thus  to-gider  in  felaship 
Forth  gone  this  Diomede  and  he 
In  hope  till  they  mighten  se 
The  place  where  Achilles  is. 
The  wind  stood  thanne*  nought  amis, 
But  every  topsailecole  2  it  blewe, 
Till  Ulixes  the  marches  knewe, 

1  Stounde,  interval  of  time,  hour. 

2  Topsailecole.    Cole,  in  Godefroy's  Dictlon- 
naire  tie  lAncienne  Latigue  fratifafsf,  is  an 


254 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Where  Lichomede  his  regne  had. 
The  stiresman  so  well  him  lad 
That  they  ben  comen  sauf  to  londe, 
Where   they  gone    out   upon    the 

stronde 
Into  the  burgh,  where  that  they 

founde 
The    king;    and    he    which    hath 

facounde,1 

Ulixes,  dide  the  message. 
But  the  counseile  of  his  cordge,2 
Why  that  he  came,  he  tolde  nought, 
But  underneth  he  was  bethought 
In  what  maner  he  might  aspie 
Achilles  fro  Deidamy 
And  fro  these  other  that  there  were, 
Full  many  a  lusty  lady  there. 
"  They  plaide  hem  there  a  day 

or  two, 

And  as  it  was  fortuned  so, 
It  fell  that  time  in  suche  a  wise 
To  Bachus  that  a  sacrifice 
These  yonge'  ladies  shulden  make. 
And  for  the  straunge  mennes  sake 
That     comen    fro    the    siege    of 

Troy, 

They  maden  well  the  more  joy. 
There  was  revell,  there  was  daunc- 

ing, 

And  every  life  3  which  couthe  sing 
Of  lusty  women  in  the  route 
A  fressh  caroll  hath  song  aboute. 
But  for  all  this  yet  nethe'les 
The  Grekes  unknowe  of  Achillas 
So  weren,  that  in  no  degre 
They  couthen  wite  which  was  he 
Ne  by  his  vois,  ne  by  his  pas. 
Ulixes  than  upon  the  cas 
A  thing   of  high    prudence    hath 

wrought. 

unexplained  word  illustrated  by  this  passage  : 
"Se  mistrent  en  barges,  et  alerent  aux  sa- 
landres,  et  en  prisrent  les  xvii.  et  1'une  echapa, 
qui  estoit  a  la  cole." 

1  Facounde,  eloquence. 

2  Cordge,  thought  in  his  heart. 

3  Life,  body, 


For   thilk    array    which   he   hath 

brought 

To  yive  among  the  women  there 
He  let  do  fetten  *  all  the  gere 
Forth,  with  a  knightes  harneis  eke. 
In  all  the  contre  for  to  seke 
Men  sholden  nought  a  fairer  se. 
And  every  thing  in  his  degre 
Endelong  upon  a  bourde  he  laide. 
To  Lichomede  and  than  he  preide, 
That  every  lady  chese'  sholde 
What  thing  of  alle  that  she  wolde 
And  take  it  as  by  way  of  yift, 
For  they  hem  self  it  shulde'  shift 
He  saide  after  her  owne  wille. 
Achilles  thanne  stood  nought  stille, 
Whan  he  the  bright^  helm  behelde, 
The  swerd,  the  hauberk  and  the 

shelde, 

His  herte  fell  therto  anone, 
Of  all  that  other  wold  he  none  ; 
The  knightes  gere  he  underfongeth 
And  thilke  array  which  that  be- 

longeth 

Unto  the  women  he  forsoke. 
And  in  this  wise,  as  saith  the  boke, 
Theyknowen  thanne  whichehewas, 
For  he  goth  forth  the  grete'  pas 
Into  the  chambre  where  he  lay, 
Anone  and  made  no  delay, 
He  armeth  him  in  knightly  wise, 
That  better  can  no  man  devise. 
And  as  fortune  shulde  falle, 
He  came  so  forth  to-fore  hem  alle 
As  he  which  tho  was  glad  inough. 
But  Lichomede  nothing  lough  2 
Whan  that  he  sigh  how  that  it  ferde. 
For  than  he  wiste  well  and  herde 
His  doughter  hadde  be  forlain. 
But  that  he  was  so  oversein 
The  wonder  overgoth  his  wit. 
For  in  cronique  is  write  yit 
Thing  which  shall  never  be  foryete, 

1  Let  do  fetten,  caused  to  be  fetched. 
'-  Lough,  laughed. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


255 


How  that  Achilles  hath  begete 
Pirriis  upon  Deidam^, 
Wherof  came  out  the  trechery 
Of  Fals  Witness^  when  he  saide 
How  that  Achilles  was  a  maide. 
But  that  was  nothing  send  tho, 
For  he  is  to  the  siege*  go 
Forth  with  Ulixes  and  Diomede. 

"  Lo,  thus  was  proved  in  the  dede 
And  fully  spoke  at  thilke'  while, 
If  o  woman  an  other  beguile 
Where  is  there  any  sikernesse, 
Whan  Thetis  which  was  than  god- 

desse 

Deidamy  hath  so  bejaped, 
I  not  how  it  shall  bene  escaped 
With  tho  women  whose  innocence 
Is  now  al  day  through  such  credence 
Deceived  ofte  as  it  is  sene 
With  men  that  suchuntrouthemene. 
For  they  ben  sligh  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  they  by  sleightand  byqueintise 
Of  fals  witness^  bringen  inne 
That  doth  hem  ofte'  for  to  winne 
Where   they   ben   nought  worth^ 

therto. 
Forthy,  my  sone,  do  nought  so." — 

"  My  fader,  as  of  fals  witndsse 
The  trouth  and  the  matere  expresse 
Touche'ndoflove,howeithathferde, 
As  ye  have  tolde  I  have  well  herde. 
But  for  ye  saiden  other  wise, 
How  thilke'  Vice  of  Covetise 
Hath  yet  Perjurie  of  his  accorde, 
If  that  you  list  of  some  recorde 
To  tellen  an  other  tale  also 
In  Love's  cause  of  time  ago, 
What  thing  it  is  to  be  forswore, 
I  woldd  preid  you  therfore, 
Wherof  I  might  ensample  take." — 

"  WS  flO&^  SOUC,  and  for  thy 

sake 

Touchend  of  this  I  shall  fulfill 
Thin  axing  at  thin  owne  will 
And  the  matere  I  shall  declare 


How  the  womdn  deceived  are 
Whan  they  so  tendre  hertds  bere 
Of  that  they  heren  men  so  swere. 
But  whan  it  cometh  unto  thassay, 
They  finde  it  fals  another  day, 
As  Jason  did  unto  Medee, 
Which  stant  yet  of  auctoritd 
In  token  and  in  memoriall, 
Wherof  the  tale  in  specidll 
Is  in  the  boke  of  Troid  write, 
Which  I  shall  do  the  for  to  wite. 

"  In  Greed  whilom  was  a  king, 
Of  whom  the  fame  and  knouleching 
Beleveth l  yet,  and  Peleiis 
He  highte,  but  it  fell  him  thus, 
That  his  Fortune  her  whele  so  lad, 
That  he  no  childe  his  ownd  had 
To  regnen  after  his  decess. 
He  had  a  brother  netheles, 
Whose  righte  name  was  Eson, 
And  he  the  worthy  knight  Jason 
Begat,  the  which  in  every  londe 
All  other  passed  of  his  honde 
In  armds,  so  that  he  the  best 
Was  namdd  and  the  worthiest. 
He  soughte  worship  over  all    • 
Now  herken,  and  I  telld  shall 
An  adventure  that  he  sought, 
Which  afterward  full  dere  he  bought. 

There  was  an  ile,  which  Colchos 
Was  cleped,  and  therof  arcs 
Great  speche  in  every  londe  aboute, 
That  such  merveild  was  none  oute 
In  all  the  wide  world  no  where 
As  tho  was  in  that  ile  there. 
There  was  a  shepe,  as  it  was  tolde, 
The    which    his   flees  bare  all  of 

golde, 

And  so  the  goddds  had  it  sette 
That  it  ne  might  away  be  fette 
By  power  of  no  worldds  wight. 
And  yet  full  many  a  worthy  knight 
It  had  assaidd  as  they  dorste, 
And  ever  it  fell  hem  to  the  worste. 

J  Beleveth,  remains. 


256 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  he  that  wolde  it  nought  forsake 
But  of  his  knighthode  undertake 
To  do  what  thing  therto  belongeth, 
This  worthy  Jason,  sore  alongeth 
To  se  the  straunge  regions 
And  knowe  the  conditions 
Of  other  marches  where  he  went. 
And  for  that  cause  his  hole  entent 
He  sette  Colchos  for  to  seche 
And  therupon  he  made  a  speche 
To  Peleus  his  eme l  the  king. 
And  he  wel  paid  was  of  that  thing 
And  shope  anone  for  his  passage 
And  such  as  were  of  his  ligndge 
With  other  knighteswhichehechees 
With  him  he  toke,  and  Hercules 
Which  full  was  of  chi valeric 
With  Jason  went  in  compaignie, 
And  that  was  in  the  month  of  May 
Whan  colde  stormes  were  away ; 
The  wind  was  good,  the  ship  was 

yare, 

They  toke  her  leve  and  forth  they  fare 
Toward  Colchos.      But  on  the  way 
What  hem  befelle  is  long  to  say, 
How  Lamedon  the  king  of  Troy, 
Which  oughte  well  have  made  hem 

joy 

Whan  they  to  rest  a  while  him  preide, 
Out  of  his  lond  he  them  congeide. 
And  so  fell  the  dissention 
Whiche  after  was  destruction 
Of  that  citee,  as  men  may  here. 
But  that  is  nought  to  my  matere, 
But  thus  the  worthy  folk  Gregois 
Fro  that  king  which  was  nought 

curtois 

And  fro  his  londe  with  sail  updrawe 
They  went  hem  forth,  and  many  a 

sawe 
They   made    and    many    a   great 

mand.ce ; 

Till  atte  last  into  that  place 
Which  as  they  soughte  they  arrive, 

1  Eme,  uncle. 


And  striken  sail  and  forth  as  blive l 
They  sent  unto  the  king  and  tolden 
Who  weren  there  and  what  they 

wolden. 

Oe'te's,  which  was  thanne  king, 
Whan  that  he  herde  this  tiding 
Of  Jason  which  was  comen  there, 
And  of  these  other  what  they  were, 
He    thoughte     done    hem     great 

worship. 

For  they  anone  come  out  of  ship 
And  straught  unto  the  king  they 

wente 

And  by  the  honde  Jason  he  hente, 
And  that  was  at  the  paleis  gate, 
So  fer  the  king  came  on  his  gate 
Toward  Jason  to  done  him  chere. 
And  he,  whom  lacketh  no  manere, 
Whan  he  the  king  sigh  in  presence 
Yaf  him  ayein  such  reverence 
As  to  the  kinges  state  belongeth. 
And    thus    the   king   him   under- 

fongeth 

And  Jason  in  his  arme  he  caught 
And  forth  into  the  hall  he  straught, 
And  there  they  sit  and  speke  of 

thinges. 

And  Jason  tolde  him  tho  tidinges 
Why  he  was  come,  and  faire  him 

preide 

Tohastehis  time,  andthekingsaide : 
'  Jason,  thou  art  a  worthy  knight, 
But  it  lieth  in  no  mannes  might 
To  done  that  thou  art  come  fore. 
There  hath  bene  many  a  knight 

forlore 

Of  that  they  wolden  it  assaie.' 
But  Jason  wolde  him  nought esmaie 
And  saide  :  '  Of  every  worldes  cure 
Fortune  stant  in  aventure, 
Paraunter2  well,  paraunter  wo. 
But  how  as  ever  that  it  go, 
It  shall  be  with  min  honde  assaied. 

1  A  s  blive,  quickly. 

2  Paraunter,  peradventure 


BOOK  K.— AVARICE. 


257 


The  king  tho  helde  him  nought 

\vel  paied, 

For  he  the  Grekds  sore  dredde, 
In  aunter  if  Jason  ne  spedde 
He  might^  therof  here  a  blame, 
For  tho  was  all  the  worldes  fame 
In  Grece  as  for  to  speke  of  armes. 
Forthy  he  drad  him  of  his  harmes 
And  gan  to  prechen  and  to  prey. 
But  Jason  wolde  nought  obey, 
But  said,  he  wolde  his  purpos  holde 
For  ought  that  any  man  him  tolde. 
The  king  whan  he  these  wordds  herde 
And    sigh    how   that   this    knight 

answdrde, 

Yet  for  he  woldd  make  him  glad, 
After  Medea  gone  he  bad, 
Which  was  his  doughter,  and  she 

cam 

And  Jason,  which  good  hede  nam, 
Whan  he  her  sigh  ayein  her  goth. 
And  she,  which  was  him  nothing  loth, 
Welcomed  him  into  that  londe 
And  softd  toke  him  by  the  honde 
And  down  they  setten  bothe  same.1 
She  had  herd  spoken  of  his  name 
And  of  his  grete  worthinesse, 
Forthy  she  gan  her  eye  impresse 
Upon  his  face  and  his  stature 
And  thought,  how  never  creature 
Was  so  welfarend  as  was  he. 
And  Jason  right  in  such  degrd 
Ne  mighte  nought  witholde  his  loke, 
But  so  good  hede  on  her  he  toke 
That  him   ne  thought  under  the 

heven 

Of  beautd  sigh  he  never  her  even 
With  all  that  felle  to  womanhede. 
Thus  eche  of  other  token  hede 
Though  there  no  word  was  of  re- 

corde, 

Her  hertds  both  of  one  accorde 
Ben  sette  to  loven,  but  as  tho 
There  mighten  ben  no  wordds  mo. 

1  Bothi  same,  both  together. 


The  king  made  him  great  joy  and 

fest, 

To  all  his  men  he  yaf  an  hest, 
So  as  they  wolde  his  thank  deserve 
That  they  shulde  alld  Jason  serve 
While  that  he  woldd  there'  dwelle. 
And  thus  the  day,  shortly  to  telle, 
With  many  merthds  they  dispent, 
Till  night  was  come,  and  tho  they 

went; 

Echone  of  other  toke  his  leve, 
Whan  they  no  lenger  mighten  leve.1. 
I  not 2  how  Jason  that  night  slepe, 
But  well  I  wot,  that  of  the  shepe 
For  which  he  cam  into  that  ile 
He  thoughte  but  a  litel  while ; 
All  was  Medea  that  he  thought, 
So  that  in  many  wise  he  sought 
His  wit,  wakend  er  it  was  day, 
Some  time  ye,  some  time  nay, 
Some  timd  thus,  some  time  so, 
As  he  was  stered  to  and  fro 
Of  love  and  eke  of  his  conqudst, 
As  he  was  holde  of  his  behest. 
And  thus  he  rose  up  by  the  morwe 
And  toke  him  self  seint  John  to 

borwe  3 

And  saide,  he  woldd  first  beginne 
At  love,  and  after  for  to  winne 
The  flees  of  gold  for  which  he  come, 
And  thus  tohim good  herte  henome. 

"  Medea  right  the  same  wise 
Till  day  cam,  that  she  must  arise, 
Lay  and  bethought  her  all  the  night 
How  she  that  noble  worthy  knight 
By  any  waid  mightd  wedde. 
And  wel  she  wist,  if  he  ne  spedde 
Of  thing  which  he  had  undertake, 
She  might  her  self  no  purpose  take. 
For  if  he  deiede  of  his  bataile, 
She  mustd  than  algatd  faile 

1  Lav,  remain.  '  Not,  know  not. 

3  Seint  John  to  forwe,  St.  John  for  surety, 
a  common  way  of  invoking  a  saint  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Jason  swore,  like  a  good  knight,  by  St. 


258 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


To  geten  him,  whan  he  were  dede. 
Thus  she  began  to  sette  rede 
And  torne  about  her  wittes  all 
To  loke  how  that  it  mighte  fall, 
That  she  with  him  had  a  leisir 
To  speke  and  telle  of  her  desir. 
And  so  it  fell  the  sam^  day 
That  Jason  with  that  swete  may  1 
To-gider  set  and  hadden  space 
To  speke,    and  he  besought  her 

grace. 

And  she  his  tale  goodly  herde 
And  afterward  she  him  answerde 
And  saide:   'Jason,  as  thou  wilt 
Thou  might  be  sauf,  thou  might 

be  spilt, 

For  witte  well,  that  never  man, 
But  if  he  couthe  that  I  can, 
Ne  mighte  that  fortune  acheve, 
For  which  thou  comest.     But  as  I 

leve, 

If  thou  wolt  holde  covenaunt 
To  love  of  all  the  remenaunt, 
I  shall  thy  life  and  honour  save, 
That  thou  the  flees  of  gold  shalt 

have.' 

He  said  :  *  Al  at  your  ownd  wille, 
Madame,  I  shall  truly  fulfille 
Your  heste,  while  my  life  may  last. 
Thus  longe  he  praid  and  atte'  last 
Shegraunteth,  andbehight  him  this, 
That  whan  night  cometh  and  it 

time  is 

She  wolde  him  sende  certainly 
Such  one  that  shulde  him  prively 
Alone  into  her  chambre  bringe. 
He  thonketh  her  of  that  tidinge, 
For  of  that  grace  is  him  begonne 
Him    thenketh    al    other    thinge"s 

wonne. 
"  The  day  made  ende  and  lost 

his  sight 

And  comen  was  the  'derke  night, 
Whiche  all  the  daies  eye  blent. 

1  May,  maid. 


"  Jason  toke  leve  and  forth  he 

went, 

And  whan  he  cam  out  of  the  prees 
He  toke  to  counseil  Hercules 
And  tolde  him  how  it  was  betid, 
And  praide  it  shulde  well  ben  hid, 
And  that  he  wolde  loke  about 
The  whiles  that  he  shall  be  out. 
Thus  as  he  stood  and  hede  name, 
A  maiden  fro  Medea  came, 
The  fairest  and  the  wisest  eke. 
And  she  with  simple   chere  and 

meke, 

Whan  she  him  sigh,  wax  all  ashamed. 
Tho  was  her  tale"  newe  entamed 
For  sikernesse  of  manage, 
She  fette  forth  a  riche  ymdge, 
Was  the  figure  of  Jupiter, 
And  Jason  swore  and  saide  there, 
That  also  wis  god  shuld  him  helpe, 
That  if  Medea  did  him  helpe, 
That  he  his  purpose  mightd  whine, 
They  shulde  never  part  atwinne, 
But  ever  while  him  lasteth  life, 
He  woldd  holde  her  for  his  wife. 
They  hadden  bothe  what  they  wolde. 
And  than  at  leiser  she  him  tolde 
And  gan  fro  point  to  point  enforme 
Of  this  bataile  and  all  the  forme, 
Whiche  as  he  shulde"  finde  there, 
Whan  he  to  thile l  come  were. 
She  saide,  at  entre  of  the  pas 
How  Mars,  which  Godof  Armes  was, 
Hath  set  two  oxen  sterneandstoute, 
That  casten  fire  and  flame  aboute 
Both  atte  mouth  and  at  the  nase, 
So  that  they  setten  all  on  blase 
What  thing  that  passeth  hem  be- 

twene. 

And  furthermore  upon  the  grene 
There  goth,  the  flees  of  gold  to  kepe, 
A  serpent  which  may  never  slepe. 
Thus  who  that  ever  it  shulde  winne, 
The  fire  to  stoppe  he  mot  beginne 

i  Thile,  the  island. 


BOOK  V. —AVARICE. 


259 


Which  that  the  fierce*  bestds  caste, 
And  daunt  he  mot  hem  atte  laste, 
So  that  he  mayhem  yoke  and  drive, 
And  there  upon  he  mot  as  blive 
The    serpent  with    such   strength 

assaile 

That  he  may  sleen  him  by  bataile, 
Of  which  he  mot  the  teeth  outdra we, 
As  it  belongeth  to  that  lawe. 
And  than  he  must  the  oxen  yoke 
Til  they  have  with  a  plough  to-broke 
A  furgh  of  lond,  in  which  arow 
The  teeth  of  thadder  he  must  sow. 
And  therof  shull  arise  knightes 
Well  armed  at  alle  rightes ; 
Of  hem  is  nought  to  taken  hede, 
For  eche  of  hem  in  hastihede 
Shall  other  slee  with  detheswounde. 
And  thus  whan  they  ben  laid  to 

grounde 

Than  mot  he  to  the  goddes  pray 
And  go  so  forth  and  take  his  pray. 
But  if  he  faile  in  any  wise 
Of  that  ye  here  me  devise, 
There  may  be  set  non  other  wey, 
That  he  ne  must  algates  deie. 
'  Now  have  I  told  the  peril  all 
I  woll  you  tellen  forth  withall/ 
Quod  Meded  to  Jason  tho, 
*  That  ye  shull  knowen  er  ye  go 
Ayein  the  venim  and  the  fire, 
What  shall  be  the  recoverire. 
But,  sird,  for  it  is  nigh  day, 
Ariseth  up,  so  that  I  may 
Deliver  you  what  thing  I  have 
That  may  your  life  and  honour  save.' 
Tho  toke  she  forth  a  riche  tie l 
Made  all  of  gold  and  of  perrie, 
Out  of  the  which  she  nam  a  ring, 
The  stone  was  worth  all  other  thing. 
She  saidd,  while  he  wold  it  were, 
There  mighte  no  peril  him  dere  ;  - 
In  water  may  it  nought  be  dreint, 
Where  as  itcomeththefireis  queint, 


Tic,  casket. 


-  Derc,  injure. 


It  daunteth  eke  the  cruel  heste, 
There  may  none  quad  l  that  man 

areste, 

Where  so  he  be  on  see  or  londe, 
That  hath  this  ring  upon  his  honde. 
And  over  that  she  gan  to  sain, 
That  if  a  man  will  ben  unsein, 
Within   his  hond  hold    close   the 

stone 

And  he  may  invisible  gone. 
The  ring  to  Jason  she  betaught 2 
And  so  forth  after  she  him  taught 
What  sacrifice  he  shulde'  make. 
And  gan  out  of  her  cofre  take 
Him  thought  an  hevenly  figure, 
Which  all  by  charme  and  by  conjure 
Was  wrought,  and  eke  it  was  through 

writ 

With  names  which  he  shulde*  wite, 
As  she  him  taughte  tho  to  rede, 
And  bad  him  as  he  wolde  spede 
Withoutd  rest  of  any  while, 
Whan  he  were  londed  in  that  ile, 
He  shulde  make  his  sacrifice 
And  rede  his  carect3  in  the  wise 
As  she  him  taught,  on  knees  down 

bent 

Thre  sithes  4  toward  orient. 
For  so  shuld  he  the  goddes  plese 
And  win  him  selven  mochel  ese. 
And  whan  he  had  it  thries  radde 
To  open  a  buist 5  she  him  badde, 
That  she  there  toke  him  in  present, 
And  was  full  of  such  oignement 
That  there  was  fire  ne  venim  none 
That  shulde'  fastne  him  upon 
Whan  that  he  were  anoint  withall. 
Forthy  she  taught  him  how  he  shall 
Anoint  his  arme's  all  aboute, 
And  for  he  shulde  nothing  doubte 
She  toke  him  than  a  maner  6  glue 
The  which  was  of  so  great  vertue 

1  Quati,  evil.  9  Betaught,  entrusted. 

3  Carectt  written  charm 

*  Sitk£»t  times.  o  Bnfst,  box. 

8  A  matter,  a  kind  of. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  where  a  man  it  shulde  cast 
It  shulde  binde  anon  so  fast 
That  no  man  might  it  done  away. 
And  that  she  bad  by  alle  way 
He  shulde  into  the  mouthcs  throw 
Of  tho  twein  oxen  that  fire  blow, 
Therof  to  stoppen  the  malice 
The  glue  shall  serve  of  that  office. 
And  over  that,  her  oignement 
Her  ring  and  her  enchauntement 
Ayein  the  serpent  shulde  him  were,1 
Till  he  him  slee  with  swerd  or  spere. 
And  than  he  may  saufly  inough 
His  oxen  yoke  into  the  plough 
And  the  teeth  sowe  in  such  a  wise 
Till  he  the  knightes  se  arise, 
And  eche  of  other  down  be  laide 
In  suche  a  maner  as  I  have  saide. 

"  Lo,  thus  Medea  for  Jason 
Ordeineth,  and  praieth  therupon 
That  he  nothing  foryete  sholde, 
And  eke  she  praieth  him  that  he 

wolde, 

Whan  he  hath  all  his  armes  done, 
To  grounde  knele  and  thonkeanone 
The  goddes,  and  so  forth  by  ese 
The  flees  of  golde  he  shulde  sese. 
And  whan  he  had  it  sesed  so, 
That  than  he  were  sone  ago 
Withouten  any  tarieng. 
Whan  this  was  said,  into  weping 
She  fel,  as  she  that  was  through- 

nome 

With  love  and  so  fer  overcome 
That  all  her  worlde  on  him  she 

sette. 

But  whan  she  sigh  there  was  nolette, 
That  he  mot  nedes  part  her  fro, 
She  toke  him  in  her  armes  two 
An  hunderd  times  andgan  him  kisse 
And  said:  'O,allmyworldes  blisse, 
My  trust,  my  lust,  my  life,  min  hele, 
To  ben  thin  helpe  in  this  quarele 
I  pray  unto  the  goddes  alle  ! ' 

1  Were*  protect. 


And  with  that  word  she  gan  down 

falle 

Of  swoune,  and  he  her  uppe  nam, 
And  forth  with  that  the  maiden  cam, 
And  they  to  bed  anone  her  brought, 
And  thanne  Jason  her  besought 
And  to  her  saide  in  this  manere  : 
'  My  worthy  lusty  lady  dere, 
Comforteth  you,  for  by  my  trouth 
It  shall  nought  fallen  in  my  slouth 
That  I  ne  woll  throughout  fulfille 
Your  hestes  at  your  owne  wille. 
And  yet  I  hope  to  you  bringe 
Within  a  while  such  tidmge, 
The  which  shall  make  us  bothe' 

game.' 

"  Butfor  he  woldekepe  hername, 
Whan  that  he  wist  it  was  nigh  day, 
He  saide,  '  Adewe  my  swete  may.' 
And  forth  with  him  he  nam  his  gere 
Which  as  she  hadde  takehim  there, 
And  straught  unto  his  chambre  went 
And  goth  to  bedde  and  slepe  him 

hent1 

And  lay  that  no  man  him  awoke, 
For  Hercules  hede  of  him  toke, 
Till  it  was  underne  2  high  and  more. 
And  than  he  gan  to  sighe  sore 
And  sodeinlich  he  braide  of  slepe, 
And  they  than  token  of  him  kepe  ; 
His  chamberleins  ben  sone  there 
And  maden  redy  all  his  gere, 
And  he  arose  and  to  the  king 
He  went  and  said  how  to  that  thing 
For  which  he  cam  he  wolde  go. 
The  king  therof  was  wonder  wo 
And  for  he  wolde  him  fain  withdraw, 
He  told  him  many  a  dredefull  sawe. 
But  Jason  wolde  it  nought  recorde 
And  atte  laste  they  accorde. 
Whan  that  he  wolde  nought  abide, 
A  bote  was  redy  atte  tide, 

1  Hent,  seized. 

2  Underne,  time  of  a  light  refreshment  be 
tween  breakfast  and  dinner,  or  between  dinner 
and  supper. 


BOOK  V.—  AVARICE. 


261 


In  which  this  worthy  knightofGrece, 
Full  armed  up  at  every  piece 
To  his  bataild  which  belongeth, 
Toke  ore  in  hond  and  sore  him 

longeth 
Till  he  the  water  passed  were. 

"  Whan  he  cam  to  that  i\6  there, 
He  set  him  on  his   knees   down 

straught 

And  his  carecte,  as  he  was.  taught, 
He  rad  and  made  his  sacrifice 
And  sith  anoint  him  in  that  wise 
As  Medeii  him  hadde  bede  ; 
And  than  arose  up  fro  that  stede, 
And  with  the  glue  the  fire  he  queint; 
And  anone  after  he  atteint 
The  grete  serpent  and  him  slough. 
But  erst  he  hadde  sorwe  inough, 
For  that  serpent  made  him  travaile 
So  hard  and  sore  of  his  bataile, 
That  now  he  stood  and  nowe  he  fell, 
For  longd  time  it  so  befell 
That  with  his  swerd  and  with  his 

spere 

He  mighte  nought  that  serpent  dere, 
He  was  so  sherded *  all  aboute 
It  held  all  egge  tole  2  withoute, 
He  was  so  rude  and  hard  of  skin 
There  might  no  thinge  go  therein. 
Venim  and  fire  to-gider  he  cast, 
That  he  Jason  so  sore  ablast 
That  if  ne  were  his  oigne'ment, 
His  ring  and  his  enchaunte'ment, 
Which  Meded.  toke  him  before, 
He  hadde  with  that  worm  be  lore.:! 
But  of  vertii  which  therof  cam 
Jason  the  dragon  overcam 
And  he  anone  the  teeth  out  drough 
And  set  his  oxen  in  his  plough, 
With  which  he  brake  a  piece  of  lond 
And  sewe  hem  with  his  owne  hond. 
Tho  might  he  great  merveile*  se, 
Of  every  toth  in  his  degre* 

1  Sherded,  scaled.        2  Egge  tolt,  edge  tools. 
3  Lore,  lost. 


Sprong  up  a  knight  with  spere  and 

sheld, 

Of  which  anone  right  in  the  feld 
Echone  slough  other,  and  with  that 
Jason  Medea  not  foryat, 
On  both  his  knees  he  gan  down  falle 
And  yaf  thank  to  the  goddes  alle. 
The  flees  he  toke  and  goth  to  bote, 
The  sonnd  shineth  bright  and  hote, 
The  flees  of  gold  shone  forth  with 

all, 

The  water  glistred  over  all. 
Medea  wept  and  sighed  ofte 
And  stood  upon  a  toure  alofte  ; 
All  prively  within  her  selve, 
There  herd  it  nouther  ten  ne  twelve, 
She  praid  and  said :  *  O,  god  him 

spede, 
The  knight,  which  hath  my  maiden- 

hede.' 

And  ay  she  loketh  toward  thile, 
But  whan  she  sigh  within  a  while 
The  flees  glistre'nd  ayein  the  sonne, 
She  said  :    '  Ha  lord,  now  all  is 

wonne, 

My  knight  the  feld  hath  overcome, 
Now  wolde  god,  he  were  come. 
Ha  lord,  I  wold  he  were  alonde.' 
But  I  dare  take*  this  on  honde, 
If  that  she  hadde  winges  two, 
She  wold  have  flowe  unto  him  tho 
Straught  there  he  was  unto  the  bote. 
The  day  was  clere,  the  sonne"  hote, 
The  Gregois  weren  in  great  doubt 
The  while*  that  her  lord  was  out, 
They   wisten    nought  what  shuld 

betide, 

But  waited  ever  upon  the  tide 
To  se  what  ende"  shulde  falle. 
There  stoden  eke  the  nobles  alle 
Forthwith  the  comunes  of  the  town, 
And  as  they  loken  up  and  down, 
They  weren  ware  within  a  throwe 
Where  cam  the  bote  which  they 

wel  knowe, 


262 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  sigh  ho \v  Jason  brought  his  prey. 
And  tho  they  gonnen  alle  say 
And  criden  alle  with  o  Steven  : l 
'  H  a,  where  was  ever  under  the  he  ven 
So  noble  a  knight,  as  Jason  is  ?' 
And  wel  nigh  alle  saiden  this, 
That  Jason  was  a  faire  knight, 
For  it  was  never  of  mannes  might 
The  flees  of  gold  so  for  to  winne, 
And  thus  to  tellen  they  beginne. 
With  that  the  king  cam  forth  anone 
And  sigh  the  flees,  how  that  it  shone. 
And  whan  Jason  cam  to  the  londe, 
The  kinge  him  selve  toke  his  honde 
And  kist  him  and  great  joy  him 

made. 

The  Gregois  weren  wonder  glade 
And  of  that  thing  right  merry  hem 

thought 
And  forth  with  hem  the  flees  they 

brought, 

And  eche  on  other  gan  to  ligh.2 
But  wel  was  him  that  mighte  nigh 
To  se  there  of  the  proprete, 
And  thus  they  passen  the  citee 
And  gone  unto  the  paleis  straught. 
"  Medea,     which     foryat     her 

nought, 

Was  redy  there  and  said  anon  : 
'  Welcome,  O  worthy  knight  Jason !' 
She  wolde  have  kist  him  wonder  fain, 
But  shame  torned  her  ayein, 
It  was  nought  the  manere  as  tho,3 
Forthf  she  dorste  nought  do  so. 
She  toke  her  leve,  and  Jason  went 
Into  his  chambre  and  she  him  sent 
Her  maiden  to  sene  how  he  ferde. 
The  which  whan  that  she  sigh  and 

herde, 

How  that  he  hadde  faren  out 
And  that  it  stood  well  all  about, 
She  tolde  her  lady  what  she  wist, 
And  she  for  joy  her  maiden  kist. 

1  Steven,  voice.  2  Ligh,  laugh. 

»  Tho,  then. 


The  bathes  weren  than  araied 
With  herbes  tempred  and  assaied 
And  Jason  was  unarmed  sone 
And  dide  as  it  befell  to  done  ; 
Into  his  bathe  he  went  anone 
And  wisshe  him  clene  as  any  bone, 
He  toke  a  soppe  and  out  he  cam 
And  on  his  best  array  he  nam 
And  kempt  his  hede  whan  he  was 

clad, 
And  goth  him  forth  all  merry  and 

glad 

Right  straught  into  thekinges  halle. 
The  king  cam  with  his  knightes  alle 
And  maden  him  glad  welcoming. 
And  he  hem  tolde  tho  tiding 
Of  this  and  that,  how  it  befell, 
Whan  that  he  wan  the  shepes  fell. 
Medea  whan  she  was  asent l 
Come  sone  to  that  parlement, 
And  whan  she  mighte  Jason  se, 
Was  none  so  glad  of  all  as  she. 
There  was  no  joie  for  to  seche, 
Of  him  made  every  man  a  speche, 
Some  man  said  one,  some  said  other, 
But  though  he  were  goddes  brother 
And  mighte  make  fire  and  thonder, 
There  mighte"  be  no  more  wonder 
Than  was  of  him  in  that  citee. 
Echone  taught  other  '  This  is  he 
Whiche  hath  in  his  power  withinne 
That  all  the  world  ne  mighte  winne  ! 
Lo,  here  the  best  of  alle  good  ! ' 
Thus  saiden  they,  that  there  stood 
And  eke  that  walked  up  and  down 
Both  of  the  court  and  of  the  town. 
"  The  time  of  souper  cam  anon, 
They  wisshen  and  therto  they  gon  ; 
Medea  was  with  Jason  set, 
Tho  was  there  many  a  deinte  fet 
And  set  to-fore  hem  on  the  bord, 
But  none  so  liking  as  the  word 
Which  was  there  spoke  among  hem 

two, 

1  Asent,  sent  for. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


263 


So  as  they  dorste  spekd  tho. 
But  though  they  haclden  litel  space, 
Yet  they  accorden  in  that  place 
How  Jason  shuldd  come  at  night, 
Whan  every  torche  and  every  light 
Were  out,  and  than  of  other  thinges 
They  speke  aloud  for  siipposmges 
Of  hem  that  stoden  there  aboute, 
For  love  is  evermore  in  doubte, 
If  that  it  be  wisly  governed 
Of  hem  that  ben  of  love'  Idrned. 
Whan  al  was  done,  that  dissh  and 

cup 

And  cloth  and  bord  and  all  was  up, 
They  waken  while  hem  list  to  wake, 
And  after  that  they  leve  take 
And  gon  to  bedde  for  to  reste. 
And   whan  him  thoughtd  for  the 

beste, 

That  every  man  was  fast  a  slepe, 
Jasdn,  that  wolde  his  timd  kepe, 
Goth  forth  stalkend  all  prively 
Unto  the  chambre  and  redely 
There  was  a  maide,  which  him  kept, 
Medea  woke  and  no  thing  slept, 
So  that  they  hadden  joy  inow. 
And  tho  they  setten  whan  and  how 
That  she  with  him  awey  shal  stele, 
With  wordes  such  and  other  fele.1 
Whan  all  was  treted  to  an  ende, 
Jason  toke  leve  and  gan  forth  wende 
Unto  his  ownd  chambre  in  pees. 
There  wist  it  non  but  Hercules. 
"He  slept  and  ros,  whan  it  was 

time, 

And  whan  it  fel  towardds  prime, 
He  toke  to  him  such  as  he  triste 
In  secrd,  that  none  other  wiste, 
And  told  hem  of  his  counseil  there 
And  saidd  that  his  wille  were, 
That  they  to  ship  had  alle  thing 
So  privelich  in  thevening, 
That  no  man  might  her2  dede  aspie 
But  tho  that  were  of  compaignie, 

1  Felt,  many.  3  Her,  their. 


For  he  woll  go  withoutd  leve 
And  lenger  woll  he  nought  beleve,1 
But  he  ne  wolde  at  thilkd  throwe 
The  king  or  quene  shulde  it  knowe. 
They  said,  all  this  shall  well  be  do. 
And  Jason  trustd  well  therto. 

"  Medea  in  the  mend  while, 
Which  thought  her  fader  to  beguile, 
The  tresor  which  her  fader  hadde 
With  her  all  privdly  she  ladde 
And  with  Jason  at  timd  set 
Away  she  stale  and  found  no  let 
And  straught  she  goth  her  into  ship 
Of  Greed  with  that  felaship. 
And  theyanone  drough  up  the  saile, 
And  all  that  night  this  was  counseil ; 
But  erly  whan  the  sonnd  shone 
Men  sigh  how  that  they  were  gone 
And  come  unto  the  kinge  and  tolde. 
And  he  the  sothd  knowe  wolde 
And  axeth,  where  his  doughter  was. 
There  was  no  word,  but  '  Out  alar., 
She  was  ago.'  2     The  moder  wept, 
The  fader  as  a  \\odeman  lept 
And  gan  the  timd  for  to  warie  3 
And  swore  his  othe  he  wold  nought 

tarie, 

That  with  galiote  and  with  galey 
The  same  cours  the  same  wey 
Which  Jason  toke  he  wolde  take, 
If  that  he  might  him  overtake. 
To  this  they  saiden  alld  ye. 
Anone  as  they  were  attd  see 
And  all  as  who  saith  at  one  worde, 
They  gone  withinne  shippes  borde, 
The  sail  goth  up,  and  forth  they 

straught, 

But  none  esploit  therof  they  caught, 
And  so  they  tornen  home  ayein, 
For  all  that  labour  was  in  vein. 
Jason  to  Greed  with  his  pray 
Goth  through  the  see  the  rightd 

way. 

1  Beleve,  remain.  2  Ago,  gone. 

8  Warie,  curse 


264 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Whan  he  there  come  and  men  it 

tolde, 
They  maden  joie  yong  and  olde. 

"  Esdn  whan  that  he  wist  of  this, 
How  that  his  sone  comen  is 
And  hath  achieved  that  he  sought 
And  home  with  him  Medea  brought, 
In  all  the  wide  world  was  none 
So  glad  a  man  as  he  was  one. 
To-gider  ben  these  lovers  tho, 
Till  that  they  hadden  sone's  two 
Wherof  they  weren  bothe'  glade, 
And  olde  Eson  great  joi^  made 
To  seen  thencrees  of  his  lignage, 
For  he  was  of  so  great  an  age 
That  men  awaiten  every  day 
Whan  that  he  shulde  gone  away. 
Jason,  which  sigh  his  fader  olde, 
Upon  Medea  made  him  bolde 
Of  art  magique  which  she  couth, 
And   praieth  her  that  his   faders 

youth 

She  woldd  make  ayeinward  newe. 
And  she  that  was  toward  him  trewe 
Behight  him  that  she  wolde  it  do, 
Whan  that  she  time  sigh  therto. 
But  what  she  did  in  that  matere 
It  is  a  wonder  thing  to  here, 
But  yet  for  the  novellerie 
I  thenke  telle  a  great  partie. 

"  Thus  it  befell  upon  a  night, 
Whan  there  was  nought  but  sterre' 

light, 

She  was  vanisshed  right  as  her  list, 
That  no  wight  but  her  self  it  wist. 
And  that  was  atte  midnight  tide  ; 
The  world  was  still  on  every  side, 
With  open  hede  and  foot  all  bare 
Her  hair  to-sprad  she  gan  to  fare, 
Upon  her  clothes  gert  she  was 
All  specheles  and  on  the  gras 
She  glode  forth  as  an  adder  doth. 
None  other  wise  she  ne  goth, 
Till  she  came  to  the  fresshe  flood, 
And  there  a  while  she  withstood. 


Thries  she  torned  her  aboute 
And  thries  eke  she  gan  down  loute, 
And  in  the  flood  she  wete  her  hair, 
And  thries  on  the  water  there 
She  gaspeth  with  a  drecchinge  onde l 
And  tho  she  toke  her  speche  on 

honde. 

First  she  began  to  clepe  and  calle 
Upwarde  unto  the  sterrds  alle, 
To  winde,  to  air,  to  see,  to  londe 
She  preide  and  eke  helde  up  her 

honde 

To  Achates  and  gan  to  crie, 
Whiche  is  goddesse  of  sorcerie, 
She  saide,  '  Helpeth  at  this  nede, 
And  as  ye  maden  me  to  spede 
Whan  Jason  came  the  flees  to  seche, 
So  help  me  now,  I  you  beseche  ! ' 
With  that  she  loketh  and  was  ware, 
Down  fro  the  sky  there  came  a  chare, 
The  which  dragons  aboutd  drowe. 
And  tho  she  gan  her  hede  down  bowe 
And  up  she  stigheandfaire  and  well 
She  drove  forth  by  chare  and  wheel 
Above  in  thaire  among  the  skies  ; 
The  londe  of  Crete  in  tho  parties 
She  sought,  and  faste  gan  her  hie, 
And  therupon  the  hulles  high 
Of  Othrin  and  Olimpe  also 
And  eke  of  other  hulles  mo 
She   founde    and    gadreth  herbes 

suote, 

She  pulleth  up  some  by  the  rote 
And  many  with  a  knife  she  shereth 
And  all  into  her  char  she  bereth. 
Thus   whan   she   hath   the    hulles 

sought, 

The  floodes  there  foryate  she  nought 
Eridian  and  Amphrisos, 
Peneie  and  eke  Spercheidos, 
To  hem  she  went  and  there  she 

nome 

Both  of  the  water  and  of  the  fome, 
The  sonde  and  eke  the  smalle  stones 

1  Drecching  onde,  troubled  breath. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


265 


Whiche  as  she  chese  out  for  the 

nones, 

And  of  the  Redde  See  a  part 
That  was  behovelich  to  her  art 
She  toke,  and  after  that  about 
She  sought^  sondry  sedes  out 
In  felde's  and  in  many  greves 
And  eke  a  part  she  toke  of  leves. 
But  thing  which  might  her  most 

availe 

She  found  in  Crete  and  inThessaile. 
In  daies  and  in  nightes  nine, 
With  great  travaile  and  with  great 

peine 

She  was  purveyed  of  every  piece 
And  torneth  homward  into  Grece. 
Before  the  gates  of  Eson 
Her  chare  she  let  away  to  gone 
And  toke  out  first  that  was  therinne, 
For  tho  she  thought^  to  beginne 
Such  thing  as  semeth  impossible 
And  made  her  selven  invisible, 
As  she  that  was  with  thaire  enclosed 
And  might  of  no  man  be  desclosed. 
She  toke  up  turves  of  the  londe 
Withoute  helpe  of  manne's  honde 
And  heled l  with  the  grend  gras, 
Of  whiche  an  alter  made  there  was 
Unto  Echates  the  goddesse 
Of  art  magique  and  the  maistresse. 
And  este  an  other  to  invent, 
As  she  which  did  her  hole  intent, 
Tho  toke  she  feldwode 2  and  ver- 

veine, 

Of  herbes  ben  nought  better  tweine, 
Of  which  anone  without^  let 
These  alters  ben  aboute  set. 
Two  sondry  pittes  faste  by 
She  made,  and  with  that  hastily 
A   wether   which  was    black    she 

slough, 

And  out  therof  the  blood  she  drough 
And  did  into  the  pittas  two, 
Warm  milk  she  put  also  therto 

1  Heled,  covered.  -  Fehvood,  gentian. 


With  hony  meind,1  and  in  such  wise 
She  gan  to  make  her  sacrifice 
And  cried  and  praide  forth  withall 
To  Pluto  the  god  inferndl 
And  to  the  quene  Proserpine. 
And  so  she  sought  out  all  the  line 
Of  hem  that  longen  to  that  craft, 
Behind^  was  no  name  last, 
And  praid  hem  all,  as  she  well  couth, 
To  graunt  Eson  his  firsts'  youth. 
This  olde  Eson  brought  forth  was 

tho;  2 

Away  she  bad  all  other  go 
Upon  peril  that  mighte  falle, 
And  with  that  word  they  wenten  alle 
And  left  hem  there  two  alone. 
And  tho  she  gan  to  gaspe  and  gone 
And  madd  signes  many  one 
And  said  her  wordes  therupon, 
And  with  spellinge  and  her  charmes 
She  toke  Eson  in  both  her  armes 
And  made  him  for  to  slepe  fast 
And  him  upon  her  herbes  cast. 
The  blacke  wether  tho  she  toke 
And  hew  the  flesshe  as  doth  a  coke, 
On  either  alter  part  she  laide, 
And  with  the  charme's  that  shesaide 
A  fire  down  fro  the  sky  alight 
And  made  it  for  to  brenne  light. 
And  whan  Medea  sigh  it  brenne, 
Anone  she  gan  to  sterte  and  renne 
The  firy  alters  all  about. 
There  was  no  beste*  which  goth  out 
More  wildd  than  she  semeth  there. 
Aboute  her  shulders  heng  her  hair 
As  though  she  were  oute  of  her  minde 
And  torned  to  another  kinde. 
Tho  lay  there  certain  wode  cleft 
Of  which  the  pieces  now  and  eft 
She  made  hem  in  the  pine's  wete 
And  put  hem  in  the  firy  hete 
And  toke  the  bronde  with  all  the 

blase 
And  thrids  she  began  to  rase 

1  Meind,  mixed.  3  Tho,  then. 


266 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


About  Eson  there  as  he  slept. 
And  eft  with  water  which  she  kept 
She  made  a  cercle  about  him  thries 
And  eft  with  fire  of  sulphre  twies 
Full  many  another  thing  she  dede, 
Whiche  is   nought   writen   in   the 

stede. 

But  tho  she  ran  so  up  and  doune 
Slie  made  many  a  wonder  soune, 
Somtime  lich  unto  the  cock, 
Somtime  unto  the  laverock, 
Somtime  cacleth  as  an  hen, 
Somtime  speketh  as  don  men. 
And  right  so  as  her  jargon  straungeth 
In  sondry  wise  her  forme'  chaungeth, 
She  semeth  faire  and  no  woma"n, 
For  with  the  craftes  that  she  can 
She  was  as  who  saith  a  goddesse, 
And  what  her  liste  more  or  lesse 
She  did,  in  bokes  as  we  finde, 
That  passeth  over  mannes  kinde. 
But  who  that  woll  of  wonders  here, 
What  thing   she  wrought   in   this 

matere 

To  make  an  ende  of  that  she  gan, 
Such  merveil  herde  never  man. 

"  Apointed  in  the  newe  mone, 
Whan  it  was  tim£  for  to  done, 
She  set  a  caldron  on  the  fire, 
In  which  was  al  the  hole  attire 
Whereon  the  medicine  stood, 
Of  juse,  of  water,  and  of  blood. 
And  let  it  boile  in  suche  a  plite 
Till  that  she  sigh  the  spume  white. 
And  tho  she  cast  in  rinde  and  rote 
And  sede  and  floure  that  was  for 

bote, 
With  many  an  herbe  and  many  a 

stone 

Wherof  she  hath  there  many  one. 
And  eke  Cimpheius,  the  serpent, 
To  her  hath  all  her  scale's  lent, 
Chelidre  her  yafe  her' adders  skin, 
And  she  to  boilen  cast  hem  in, 
And  parte  eke  of  the  horned  oule, 


The  which  men  here  on  nightes 

houle, 

And  of  a  raven  which  was  tolde 
Of  nind  hundred  winter  olde 
She  toke  the  hede  with  all  the  bille. 
And  as  the  medicine  it  wille 
She  toke  her  after  the  bowele 
Of  the  see  wolf  and  for  the  hele 
Of  Eson,  with  a  thousand  mo 
Of  thinges  that  she  haddd  tho. 
In  that  caldron  to-gider  as  blive 
She  put  and  toke  than  of  olive 
A  drie  braunche  hem  with  to  stere,1 
The  which  anon  gan  floure  and  bere 
And  waxe  all  fresshe  and   grene 

ayein. 

Whan  she  this  vertue  hadde  sene, 
She  let  the  leeste  droppe  of  alle 
Upon  the  bare  floure  2  down  falle  : 
Anon  there  sprong  up  floure  and  gras 
Where  as  the  droppe  fallen  was, 
And  waxe  anone  all  medow  grene 
So  that  it  mighte  well  be  sene. 
Medea  thanne  knewe  and  wist 
Her  medicine  is  for  to  trist 3 
And  goth  to  Eson  there  he  lay 
And  toke  a  swerd  was  of  assay, 
With  which  a  wounde  upon  his  side 
She  made,  that  there  out  may  slide 
The  blood  withinne'  which  was  olde 
And  sike  and  trouble  and  feble  and 

colde. 

And  tho  she  toke  unto  his  use 
Of  herbes  all  the  bestd  juse 
And  poured  it  into  his  wounde, 
That  made  his  veines  full  and  sounde. 
And  tho  she  made  his  woundes  close, 
And  toke  his  honde,  and  up  he  rose. 
And    tho    she    yaf  him  drinke  a 

draught 

Of  which  his  youth  ayein  he  caught, 
His  hede,  his  herte  and  his  visdge 
Lich  unto  twenty  winter  age, 

1  Stere,  stir.  2  Bare  floure,  bare  ground, 

3  To  trist,  to  be  trusted. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


267 


His  hord  hairds  were  away, 
And  lich  unto  the  fresshd  May 
Whan  passdd  benthecolde  shoures, 
Right  so  recovereth  he  his  floures. 

"  Lo,  what  might  any  man  devise 
A  woman  she  we  in  any  wise 
More  hertely  love  in  any  stede 
Than  Medea"  to  Jason  dede. 
First  she  made  him  the  flees  to  winne, 
And  after  that  fro  kith  and  kinne 
With  great  tresor  with  him  she  stale, 
And  to  his  fader  forth  with  all 
His  elde  hath  torned  into  youthe, 
Which  thing  none  other   woman 

couthe. 

But  how  it  was  to  her  aquit, 
The  rdmembraiince  dwelleth  yit. 

King  Peleus  his  erne  was  dede, 
Jason  bare  croune  upon  his  hede, 
Medea  hath  fulfilled  his  will, 
But  whan  he  shuld  of  right  fulfill 
The  trothe  which  to  her  afore 
He  had  in  rhile  of  Colchos  swore, 
Tho  was  Medea  most  deceived. 
For  he  an  other  hath  received 
Which  doughter  was  to  king  Creon, 
Creusa"  she  hight,  and  thus  Jason, 
As  he  that  was  to  love  untrewe, 
Medea  left  and  toke  a  newe  ; 
But  that  was  after  sone  abought.1 
Medea  with  her  art  hath  wrought 
Of  cloth  of  golde  a  mantel  riche, 
Which semeth  worth  a kingesriche,2 
And  that  was  unto  Creusa  sent 
In  name  of  yeft  and  of  present, 
For  susterhode  hem  was  betwene. 
And  whan  that  yongd  fresshe  quene 
That  mantel  lappdd  her  aboute, 
Anon  therof  the  fire  sprang  oute 
And  brent  her  bothe  flessheandbon. 
Tho  cam  Medea  to  Jas6n 
With  both  his  sones  on  her  honde 
And  said,  '  O  thou  of  every  londe 
The  most  untrewe'  creature, 

1  Abought,  paid  for.  2  Richt,  kingdom. 


Lo,  this  shall  be  thy  forfeiture.' 
With  that  she  both  his  sonds  slough 
Before  his  eye,  and  he  out  drough 
His  swerd  and  wold  have  slain  her 

tho, — 

But  farewell,  she  was  ago 
Unto  Pallas  the  court  above, 
Where  as  she  pleigneth  upon  love, 
As  she  that  was  with  that  goddesse, 
And  he  was  lefte  in  great  distresse. 
"  Thus  might  thou  se,  what  sorwe 

it  doth 
To  swere  an  oth,  which  is  nought 

soth, 

In  Love's  cause  namdly. 
My  sond,  be  well  ware  forth^ 
And  kepe  that  thou  be  nought  for 
swore. 

For  this,  whiche  I  have  told  to-fore, 
Ovidd  telleth  every  dele." — 

"  My  fader,  I  may  leve  it  wele, 
For  I  have  herde  it  ofte  say, 
How  Jason  toke  the  flees  awey 
Fro  Colchos.  but  yet  herde  I  nought, 
By  whom  it  was  first  thider  brought. 
And  for  it  were  good  to  here, 
If  that  you  list  at  my  praiere 
To  telle  I  woldd  you  beseche." — 
"  My  sone,  who  thatwoll  itseche, 
In  bokds  he  may  finde  it  write. 
And  netheles,  if  thou  wolt  wite 
In  the  maner  as  thou  hast  preide, 
I  shall  the  tell,  how  it  is  saide. 

Qfyc  fame  of  thilke  shepes  felle 
Whiche  in  Colchos,  as  it  befelle, 
Was  all  of  gold,  shal  never  deie, 
Wherof  I  thenkd  for  to  say, 
Howe  it  cam  first  into  that  ile. 
There  was  a  king  in  thilke  while 
Towardds  Grece,  and  Athemas 
The  cronique  of  his  name  was. 
And  had  a  wif,  which  Philen  hight, 
By  whom,  so  as  Fortune  it  dight, 
He  had  of  children  yonge  two. 
Frixtis  the  firste  was  of  tho, 


268 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


A  knave 1  child  right  faire  with  all. 
A  doughter  eke  the  which  men  call 
Hellen,  he  hadde  by  his  wife. 
But  for  there  may  no  mannes  life 
Endure  upon  this  erthe  here, 
This  worthy  quene,  as  thou  might 

here, 

Er  that  the  children  were  of  age, 
Toke  of  her  ende  the  passage 
With  great  worship  and  was  be- 

grave  :  2 

What  thing  it  liketh  God  to  have 
It  is  great  reson  to  ben  his. 
Forthy  this  king,  so  as  it  is, 
With    great    suffhince    it    under- 

fongeth. 

And  afterward,  as  him  belongeth, 
Whan  it  was  timd  for  to  wedde, 
A  newe  wife  he  toke  to  bedde, 
Whiche  Yno  hight  and  was  a  maide 
And  eke  the  doughter  as  men  saide 
Of  Cadme',  whiche  a  king  also 
Was  holde  in  thilke  daies  tho. 

Whan  Yno  was  the  kinges  make 
She  cast  how  that  she  mighte  make 
These  children  to  her  fader  loth 
And  shope  a  wile  ayein  hem  both, 
Which  to  the  king  was  all  unknowe. 
A  yere  or  two  she  let  do  sowe 
The  lond  with  sode  whete  aboute, 
Wherof  no  corn  may  springen  oute. 
And  thus  by  sleight  and  by  covine 
Arcs  the  derth  and  the  famine 
Through  out  the  londe  in  such  a  wise, 
So  that  the  king  a  sacrifice 
Upon  the  point  of  this  distresse 
To  Ceres,  which  is  the  goddesse 
Of  corne,  hath  shape  him  for  to  yive, 
To  loke,  if  it  may  be  foryive 
The  mischefe  which  was  in  his  londe. 
But  she,  which  knewe  to-fore  the 

honde  3 
The  circumstance  of  all  this  thing, 

1  Knavt,  boy.  -  Bcgrave,  buried. 

3  To-fore  the  honde,  beforehand. 


Ayein  the  coming  of  the  king 
Into  the  temple  hath  shape  so 
Of  her  accord,  that  alle  tho 
Which  of  the  temple  prestes  were, 
Have  said  and  full  declared  there 
Unto  the  king,  but  if  so  be 
That  he  deliver  the  contre 
Of  Frixus  and  of  Hellen  bothe, 
With   whom    the    goddds   ben   so 

wrothe 
That  while  tho  children  ben  with- 

inne 

Such  tilthe  shall  no  man  beginne 
Wherof  to  get  him  any  corne  ; 
Thus  was  it  said,  thus  was  it  sworne 
Of  all  the  prestes  that  there  are. 
And  she  which  causeth  all  this  fare, 
Said  eke  thertowhat  that  she  wolde. 
And  every  man  than  after  tolde 
So  as  the  quene  had  hem  preide. 
"  The  king,  which  hath  his  ere 

leide 

And  leveth l  all  that  ever  he  herde, 
Unto  her  tales  thus  answerde 
And  saith,  that  lever  him  is  to  chese 
His  children  bothe  for  to  lese 
Than  him  and  all  the  remenaunt 
Of  hem  which  are  appertenaunt 
Unto  the  lond  whiche  he  shall  kepe. 
And  bade  his  wife  to  take  kepe 
In  what  manere  is  best  to  done, 
That  they  delivered  were  sone 
Out  of  this  worlde.     And  she  anone 
Two  men  ordeineth  for  to  gone, 
But  first  she  made  hem  for  to  swere 
That  they  the  children  shulde  bere 
Unto  the  see,  that  none  it  knowe, 
And  hem  therinne  bothe*  throwe. 
The  children  to  the  see  ben  lad, 
Where  in  the  wise  as  Yno  bad 
These  men  be  redy  for  to  do. 
But  the  goddesse  which  Juno 
Is  hote  appereth  in  the  stede 
And  hath  unto  the  men  forbede 

1  Leveth,  believes. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


269 


That  they  the  children  nought  ne 

slee, 

But  bad  hem  loke  into  the  see 
And  taken  hede  of  that  they  sighen. 
There  swam  a  shepe  to-fore  her  eyen, 
Whose  flees  of  burne'd  gold  was  all. 
And  this  goddess^  forth  with  all 
Commaundeth  that  without^  let 
They  shulde  anon  the  children  set 
Above  upon  the  shepe's  back. 
And  all  was  do,  right  as  she  spak, 
Wherof  the  men  gone  home  ayein. 

"  And  fell  so,  as  the  boko's  sain, 
Hellen  the  yonge  maiden  tho, 
Whiche  of  the  see  was  wo  bego, 
For  pure*  drede  her  hert  hath  lore, 
That  fro  the  shepe  which  hath  her 

bore. 

As  she  that  was  swounende  feint, 
She  fell  and  hath  her  self  adreint. 
With  Frixus  and  this  shepe  forth 

swam, 

Till  he  to  thile  of  Colchos  cam, 
Where  Juno  the  godde'sse  he  fonde, 
Which  toke  the  shepe  unto  the  londe 
And  set  it  there  in  such  a  wise, 
As  thou  to-fore  hast  herd  devise, 
Wherof  cam  after  all  the  wo, 
Why  Jason  was  forswore*  so 
Unto  Medee,  as  it  is  spoke. "- 

"My  fader,  who  that  hath  to-broke 
His  trouth,  as  ye  have  tolde  above, 
He  is  nought  worthy  for  to  love 
Ne  be  belove'd,  as  me  semeth. 
But  every  newe  love  quemeth 
To  him  that  newe  fangel  is. 
And  netheles  now  after  this, 
If  that  you  list  to  taken  hede 
Upon  my  shriftd  to  procede 
In  Loves  cause  ayein  the  Vice 
Of  Covetise  and  Avarice, 
What  there  is  more  I  wolde  wite." — 

"  My  sone,  this  I  finde*  write, 
There  is  yet  one  of  thilk^  brood, 
Which  only  for  the  worldes  good 


|  To  make  a  tresor  of  mone'y 
Put  alld  conscience  awey. 
Wherof  in  thy  confession 
The  name  and  the  conditi6n 
I  shall  here  afterward  declare, 
Which  maketh  one  riche  an  other 

bare. 

^Ipon  i!)e  bencl)  sittdnd  on  high 
With  Avarice  Usure  I  sigh, 
Ful  clothe'd  of  his  owne  suite, 
Which  after  gold  maketh  chase  and 

suite 

With  his  brocours,thatrenne  aboute 
Liche  unto  racches l  in  a  route. 
Such  lucre  is  none  above  grounde, 
Which   is   nought  of  tho  racches 

founde. 

For  where  they  se  beyete'  sterte, 
That  shall  hem  in  no  wise  asterte 
But  they  it  drive  into  the  net 
Of  lucre,  whiche  Usure  hath  set. 
Usurd  with  the  riche  dwelleth, 
To  all  that  ever  he  bieth  and  selleth 
He  hath  ordeined  of  his  sleight 
Mesure  double  and  double  weight. 
Outwdrd  he  selleth  by  the  lasse 
And  with  the  more  he  maketh  his 

tasse,2 

Wherof  his  hous  is  full  withinne. 
He  recheth  nought  be  so  he  winne, 
Though  thatthere  leseten  or  twelve. 
His  love  is  all  toward  him  selve 
And  to  none  other  but  he  se 
That  he  may  winn£  suche  thre. 
For  where  he  shall  ought  yiveorlene 
He  woll  ayein  ward  take  a  bene 
There  he  hath  lent  the  smalle"  pese.3 
And  right  so  there  ben  many  of  these 
Lovers,  that  though  they  love  a  lite4 
That  scarsly  wolde  it  weie  a  mite, 
Yet  wol  they  have  a  pound  ayein, 
As  doth  Usure  in  his  bargain. 

1  Racclus,  scenting  hounds. 

-  Tasse,  heap. 

3  Will  take  a  bean  where  he  has  lent  a  pea. 

*  Lite,  little. 


270 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  certes  such  Usure  unliche 
It  falleth  more  unto  the  riche 
Als  well  of  love  as  of  beyete 
Than  unto  hem  that  ben  nought 

grete, 
And  as  who  saith  ben  simple  and 

pouer ; 

For  selden  is  whan  they  recouer 
But  if  it  be  through  great  deserte, 
And  netheles  men  se  pouerte 
With  pursuite  of  contenaunce  l 
Full  ofte  make  a  great  chevaunce 
And  take  of  love  his  avauntage 
Forth  with  the  helpe  of  his  brocage 
Thatmaken  seme  where  it  is  nought. 
And  thus  full  ofte  is  love"  bought 
For  litel  what,  and  mochel  take 
With  false'  weighte's  that  they  make. 

"  Now  sone,  of  that  I  saide  above 
Thou  wost  what  Usure  is  of  Love. 
Tell  me  forthy  what  so  thou  wilt, 
If  thou  therof  hast  any  gilt  ?"- 

"  My  fader  nay,  for  ought  I  here. 
For  of  tho  points  ye  tolden  here 
I  will  you  by  my  trouth  assure, 
My  weight  of  love  and  my  mesure 
Hath  be  more  large  and  more  cer- 

teine 

Than  ever  I  toke  of  love  ayeine. 
For  so  yet  couthe  I  never  of  sleighte 
To  take  ayein  by  double  weighte 
Of  love  more  than  I  have  yive. 
For  also  wis  mote  I  be  shrive 
And  have  remission  of  sinne, 
And  so  yet  couth  I  never  winne 
Ne  yet  so  mochel  soth  to  sain, 
That  ever  I  might  have  half  ayein 
Of  so  full  love  as  I  have  lent. 
And  if  mine  hap  were  so  well  went, 
That  for  the  hole  I  might  have  half, 
Me  thenketh  I  were  a  goddes  half. 
For  where  Usure  wold  have  double, 
My  conscience  is  nought  so  trouble, 

1  Pursutte  of  .contenauncet  continued  per 
severance. 


I  bidde  never  as  to  my  dele 
But  of  the  hole  an  halven  dele. 
That  is  none  excess  as  me  thenketh, 
But  netheles  it  me  forthenketh. 
For  well  I  wot  that  wol  nought  be, 
For  every  day  the  better  I  se 
That  how  so  ever  I  yive  or  lene 
My  love  in  place  that  I  mene, 
For  ought  that  ever  I  axe  or  crave 
I  can  nothing  ayeinwarde  have. 
But  yet  for  that  I  wol  nought  lete 
What  so  befall  of  my  beyete, 
That  I  ne  shall  her  yive  and  lene 
My  love  and  all  my  thought  soclene, 
That  toward  me  shall  nought  be- 

leve.1 

And  if  she  of  her  gode  leve 
Rewarde  wol  me  nought  ayein, 
I  wot  the  last  of  my  bargein 
Shall  stonde  upon  so  great  a  lost, 
That  I  may  never  more  the  cost 
Recouer  in  this  world  till  I  deie, 
So  that  touche'nd  of  this  partie 
I  may  me  well  excuse  and  shall ; 
And  for  to  speke  forth  withall, 
If  any  brocour  for  me  went 
That  point  come  never  in  min  entent, 
So  that  the  more  me  merveileth 
What  thing  it  is  my  lady  eileth, 
That  all  min  herte  and  all  my  time 
She  hath,  and  do  no  better  by  me. 
"  I  have  herd  said,  that  thought 

is  free 

And  nethe"les  in  privete 
To  you,  my  fader,  that  bene  here 
Min  hole  shrifte  for  to  here, 
I  dare  min  herte  well  disclose 
Touchend  Usiirie,  as  I  suppose, 
Whiche,  as  ye  telle,  in  love  is  used. 
My  lady  may  nought  ben  excused 
That  for  o  loking  of  her  eye 
Min  hole  herte  till  I  deie 
With  all  that  ever  I  may  and  can 
She  hath  me  wonne  to  her  man, 

1  Bclevc,  remain. 


BOOK  V. -^AVARICE. 


271 


Wherof  me  thenketh  good  reson 

wolde 

That  she  somdele  rewarde  sholde, 
And  yive  a  part  there  she  hath  all. 
I  not  what  falle  herafter  shall, 
But  into  now  yet  dare  I  sain 
Her  listd  never  yive  ayein 
A  goodly  word  in  such  a  wise 
Wherof  min  hope  might  arise 
My  grete  love  to  recompense. 
I  not  how  she  her  conscience 
Excuse  wol  of  this  Usure 
By  large  weight  and  great  mesure. 
She  hath  my  love  and  I  have  nought 
Of  that  which  I  have  dere  abought, 
And  with  min  herte  I  have  it  paide, 
But  all  this  is  aside  laide, 
And  I  go  lovdlds  aboute. 
Her  oughte  stonde   in   full  great 

doubte, 

Till  she  redresse  suche  a  sinne 
That  she  wol  al  my  love  winne 
And  yiveth  me  nought  to  livd  by. 
N  ought  al  so  moch  as '  graunt  mercy ' 
Her  list  to  say,  of  which  I  might 
Some  of  my  grete  peine  alight. 
But  of  this  point,  lo,  thus  I  fare, 
As  he  that  .paieth  for  his  chaffare 
And  bieth  it  dere  and  yet  hath  none, 
So  mote  he  nedds  pouer  gone. 
Thus  bie  I  dere  and  have  no  love, 
That  I  ne  may  nought  come  above 
To  winne  of  lovd  none  encrese. 
But  I  me  willd  nethdlese 
Touchend  Usure  of  love  aquite, 
And  if  my  lady  be  to  wite l 
I  pray  to  God  such  grace  her  sende 
That  she  by  time  it  mot  amende." — 
"  My  sone,  of  that  thou  hast  an- 

swdrde 

Touchend  Usure  I  have  al  herde, 
How  thou  of  love  hastwonne'  smale. 
But  that  thou  tellest  in  thy  tale 
And  thy  lady  therof  accusest, 

1  To  wife,  to  blame. 


Me  thenketh  tho  wordes  thou  mis- 

usest. 

For  by  thin  ownd  knouleching 
Thou  saist,  how  she  for  one  loking 
Thy  hold  hert  fro  the  she  toke, 
She  may  be  such  that  her  o  loke 
Is  worth  thine  herte  many  folde, 
So  hast  thou  well  thin  hertd  solde 
Whan    thou    hast    that    is    more* 

worthe. 

And  eke  of  that  thou  tellest  forthe, 
How  that  her  weight  of  love  uneven 
Is  unto  thine,  under  the  heven 
Stood  never  in  even  that  balaunce 
Which  stont  in  lovds  governaunce. 
Such  is  the  statute  of  his  lawe, 
That  though  thy  lovd  mord  drawe 
And  peise  in  the  balauncd  more, 
Thou  might  nought  axe  ayein  ther- 

fore 

Of  dudtd,  but  all  of  grace. 
For  Love  is  Lorde  in  every  place, 
There  may  no  lawe  him  justify, 
By  reddour  ne  by  compaigny l 
That  he  ne  wol,  after  his  wille, 
Whom   that  him   liketh  spede  or 

spille. 

To  love  a  man  may  well  beginne, 
But  whether  he  shall  lese  or  winne 
That  wot  no  man,  til  attd  last. 
Forthy  coveitd  nought  to  fast, 
My  sond,  but  abide  thin  ende, 
Parcas  all  may  to  goodd  wende. 
But  that  thou  hast  me  tolde  and 

saide 

Of  o  thing  I  am  right  well  paide, 
That  thou  by  sleightd  ne  by  guile 
Of  no  brocoiir  hast  otherwhile 
Engi'ndd  love,  for  suchd  dede 
Is  sord  vengdd  as  I  rede. 

"Brocours  of  love,  that  deceiven, 
No  wonder  is  though  they  receiven 
After  the  wrong  that  they  deserven. 
For  whom  as  ever  that  they  serven 

1  By  force  or  fellowship. 


272 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  do  plesaunce  for  a  while, 
Yet  atte'  last  her  own£  guile 
Upon  her  ownd  hede  descendeth, 
Which    God   of    his    vengeaunce 

sendeth. 

As  by  ensample  of  time  ago 
A  man  may  finde  it  hath  be  so. 
"  g£  fell  some  lime,  as  it  was 

sene, 

The  highe  goddesse  and  the  quene 
Juno  tho  had  in  compaigny 
A  maiden  full  of  trechery. 
For  she  was  ever  in  accorde 
With  Jupiter,  that  was  her  lorde, 
To  get  him  other  loves  newe 
Through   such  brocage,   and   was 

untrewe 

All  other  wise  than  him  nedeth. 
But  she,  the  which  no  shame  dredeth, 
With  queinte  wordes  and  with  slie 
Blent  in  such  wise  her  ladies  eye 
As  she  to  whom  that  Juno  trist, 
So  that  therof  she  nothing  wist. 
But  so  prive  may  be  nothing, 
That  it  ne  cometh  to  knouleching, 
Thing  done  upon  the  derke  night 
Is  after  knowe  on  daies  light. 
So  it  befell,  that  atte  last 
All  that  this  slighe  maiden  cast 
Was  overcast  and  overthrowe. 
For  as  the  sothe'  mot  be  knowe, 
To  Juno  it  was  done  understonde, 
In  what  manure  her  husebonde 
With  fals  brocage  hath  take  usure 
Of  love  more  than  his  mesure, 
Whan  he  toke  other  than  his  wife  ; 
Wherof  this  maiden  was  giltife, 
Whiche  hadde"  ben  of  his  assent. 
And  thus  was  all  the  game  shent. 
She  suffred  him,  as  she  mot  nede, 
But  the  brocour  of  his  misdede, 
She  which  her  counseil  yaf  therto, 
On  her  is  the  vengeaunce  do  ; 
For  Juno  with  her  wordes  hole 
This  maiden,  which  Ecchowashote, 


Reproveth  and  saith  in  this  wise : 
1  O  traiteresse,  of  which  service 
Hast  thou  thin  owne  lady  served, 
Thou  hast  great  peind  well  deserved 
That  thou  canst  maken  it  so  queint. 
Thy  slighe'  wordes  for  to  peint 
Towardes  me  that  am  thy  quene, 
Wherof  thou  madest  me  to  wene, 
That  my  husbonde  trewe  were 
Whan  that  he  loveth  die's  where 
All  be  it  so  him  ne^pth  nought. 
But  upon  the  it  shall  be  bought 
Whiche  art  prive  to  tho  doinges, 
And  me  full  ofte  of  thy  lesmges 
Deceived  hast.      Nowe  is  the  day, 
That  I  thy  wile"  quite"  may, 
And  for  thou  hast  to  me  conceled 
That  my  lorde  hathwithotherdeled, 
I  shall  the  sette  in  suche  a  kinde 
That  ever  unto  the  worldes  ende 
All  that  thou  herest  thou  shalt  telle 
And  clappe  it  out  as  doth  a  belle. 
And  with  that  word  she  was  for- 

shape, 

There  may  no  vois  her  mouthe  es 
cape: 

What  man  that  in  the  wodes  crietli, 
Withouten  faile  Eccho  replieth  ; 
And  what  word  that  him  lust  to  sain, 
The  same  word  she  saith  ayein. 
Thus  she,  which  whilome  hadde  leve 
To  dwelle  in  chambre,  mot  beleve l 
In  wodes  and  on  hilles  both, 
For  such  brocdge  as  wives  loth, 
Which    doth    her    lordes    hertes 

chaunge 
And  love  in  other  places  straunge. 

"  Forth^  if  ever  it  so  befalle 
That  thou,  my  sone,  amonges  alle 
Be  weddedman,hold  that  thou  hast, 
For  than  all  other  love  is  waste  • 
O  wife  shal  wel  to  the  suffise, 
And  than  if  thou  for  covetise 
Of  love  woldest  axe  more, 

1  Be 'leve ;  remain. 


BOOK  r.— AVARICE. 


273 


Thou  shuldest  don  ayein  the  lore 
Of  alle  hem  that  trcwc  be."- 

"  My  fader,  as  in  this  degre 
My  conscience  is  nought  accused, 
For  I  no  such  brocdge  have  used 
Wherof  that  lust  of  love  is  wonne. 
Forthf  speke  forth,  as  ye  begonne, 
Of  Avarice  upon  my  shrifte." — 

"  My  sone,  I  shall  the  braunches 

shifte 

By  order  so  as  they  ben  set, 
On  whom  no  good  is  wel  beset. 

33Hnb  JltKiricc  of  his  ligndge 
For  counseil  and  for  cousinage 
To  be  witholde  ayein  Largesse 
Hath    one,    whose   name   is   said 

Scarsnesse, 

The  which  is  keper  of  his  hous 
And  is  so  throughout  avarous, 
That  he  no  good  let  out  of  honde; 
Though  God  him  self  it  wolde  fonde, 
Of  yifte  shuld  he  no  thing  have. 
And  if  a  man  it  woldd  crave, 
He  muste  thanne'  faile  nede 
Where  God  him  selve  may  nought 

spede. 

And  thus  Scarsnesse  in  every  place 
By  reson  may  no  thank  purchdce. 
And  nethe'les  in  his  degre 
Above  all  other  most  prive* 
With  Avarice  stant  he  this. 
For  he  gove'rneth  that  there  is 
In  eche  estate  of  his  office 
After  the  reule  of  thilke'  vice 
He  taketh,  he  kepeth,  he  halt,  he 

bint, 

That  lighter  is  to  fle l  the  flint 
Than  gete  of  him  in  hard  or  neisshe 
Only  the  value  of  a  reisshe 
Of  good  in  helping  of  an  other, 
Nought  though  it  were  his  owne 

brother. 

For  in  the  cas  of  yift  and  lone 
Stant  every  man  for  him  alone. 

1  Fit,  flay. 


Him  thenketh,  of  his  unkindship, 
That  him  nedeth  no  felaship 
Be  so  the  bagge  and  he  accorden, 
Him  reccheth  nought  what   men 

recorden 

Of  him,  or  be  it  evil  or  good, 
For  all  his  truste  is  on  his  good ; 
So  that  alone  he  falleth  ofte, 
Whan  he  best  weneth  stonde  alofte, 
Als  well  in  love  as  other  wise. 
For  love  is  ever  of  some  reprise 
To  him  that  woll  his  lovd  holde. 
Forthy  my  sone,  as  thou  art  holde 
Touchend  of  this  tell  me  thy  shrifte, 
Hast  thou  be  scarse  or  large  of  yifte 
Unto  thy  lovd,  whom  thou  servest. 
For  after  that  thou  well  deservest 
Of  yifte',  thou  might  be  the  bet. 
For  that  good  holde  I  well  beset 
Forwhich  thou  might  the  better  fare, 
Than  is  no  wisdom  for  to  spare. 
For  thus  men  sain  in  every  nede, 
He  was  wise  that  first  made  mede. 
For  where  as  medd  may  nought 

spede, 

I  not  what  helpeth  other  dede. 
Full  ofte  he  faileth  of  his  game, 
That  will  with  idel l  hond  reclame 
His  hawke,  as  many  a  nice  doth. 
Forthy  my  sone,  tell  me  soth 
And  say  the  trouth,  if  thou  hast  be 
Unto  thy  love  or  scarse  or  fre  ?  "- 

"  My  fader,  it  hath  stond^  thus, 
That  if  the  tresor  of  Cresus 
And  all  the  golde  of  Octavien, 
Forth  with  the  richesse  of  Yndien 
Of  perle's  and  of  riche'  stones 
Were  all  to-gider  min  at  ones, 
I  set  it  at  no  more  accompt 
Than  wolde  a  bard  straw  amount 
To  yive  it  her  all  in  a  day. 
Be  so  that  to  that  swetd  may 
It  mightd  like  or  more  or  lesse. 
And  thus  because  of  my  scarsnesse 

1  /rfif/,  empty. 


274 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Ye  may  well  understand  and  leve 
That    I    shall   nought   the    worse 

acheve 

The  purpos  which  is  in  my  thought, 
But  yet  I  yaf  her  never  nought 
Ne  therto  durst  a  profre  make. 
For  well  I  wot  she  woll  nought  take. 
And  y'iv6  woll  she  nought  also, 
She  is  escheue  of  bothe'  two. 
And  this  I  trowe  be  the  skill 
Towardes  me,  for  she  ne  will 
That  I  have  any  cause  of  hope, 
Nought  al  so  mochel  as  a  drope. 
But  toward  other  as  I  may  se 
She  taketh  and  yiveth  in  such  degre, 
That  as  by  wey  of  frendelyhede 
She  can  so  kepe  her  womanhede 
That  every  man  speketh  of  her  wele. 
But  she  wol  take  of  me  no  dele, 
And  yet  she  wot  wel  that  I  wolde 
Yive  and  do  bothe  what  I  sholde 
To  plesen  her  in  all  my  might, 
By  reson  this  wote  every  wight. 
For  that  may  by  no  wey  asterte, 
There  she  is  maister  of  the  herte 
She  mot  be  maister  of  the  good. 
For  god  wot  wel  that  all  my  mood 
Andallmin  herte  and  all  my  thought 
And  all  my  good  while  I  have  ought, 
Als  frely  as  God  hath  it  yive, 
It  shall  be  hers,  the  while  I  live, 
Right  as  her  list  her  self  commaunde. 
So  that  it  nedeth  no  demaunde 
To  axe  me  if  I  have  be  scarse 
To  love,  for  as  to  tho  parse l 
I  will  answeren  and  say  no." — 

"  My  sone,  that  is  right  well  do. 
For  often  time's  of  scarsnesse 
It  hath  ben  seen,  that  for  the  lesse 
Is  lost  the  more,  as  thou  shalt  here 
A  tale,  lich  to  this  matere. 

gcmrsnesse  anb  <£ot>e  accor- 

den  never,. 
For  every  thing  is  wei  the  lever 

1  Tho  parse,  those  charms. 


Whan  that  a  man  hath  bought  it 

dere. 

And  for  to  speke  in  this  matere 
For  sparing  of  a  litel  cost 
Full  ofte  time  a  man  hath  lost 
The  large  cote  for  the  hood. 
What  man  that  scarse  is  of  his  good 
And  wolnoughtyive,  he  shall  nought 

take, 

With  yift  a  man  may  undertake 
The  highd  God  to  plese  and  queme, 
With  yift  a  man  the  world  may  deine. 
For  every  creature  bore 
If  thou  him  yive  is  glad  therfore, 
And  every  gladship,  as  I  finde, 
Is  comfort  unto  loves  kinde 
And  causeth  ofte  a  man  to  spede  ; 
So  was  he  wise  that  first  yaf  mede. 
For  Mede  kepeth  Love  in  hous, 
But  where  the  men  ben  coveitous 
And  sparen  for  to  yive  a  parte, 
They  knowen  nought  Cupides  arte. 
For  his  fortune  and  his  apprise 
Disdeigneth  alle  covetise 
And  hateth  alle  nigardie. 
And  for  to  loke  of  this  partie 
A  sothe  ensample,  howe  it  is  so, 

I  finde  write  of  Babio, 
Which  had  a  love  at  his  mendge, 
There  was  no  fairer  of  her  age 
And  highte  Viola  by  name, 
Which  full  of  youth  and  full  of  game 
Was  of  her  selfe  and  large  and  free. 
But  such  an  other  chinche  *  as  he 
Men  wisten  nought  in  all  the  londe, 
And  had  affaited  to  his  honde 
His  servant,  the  which  Spodius 
Was  hote.     And  in  this  wisd  thus 
The  worldes  good  of  surfisaiince 
Was  had,  but  liking  and  plesaunce 
Of  that  belongeth  to  richesse 
Of  love  stode  in  great  distresse, 
So  that  this  yonge  lusty  wight 
Of  thing  which  fell  to  love's  right 

1  Chinche^  miser. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


275 


Was  evil  servdd  over  all, 
That  she  was  wo  bego  withall. 
Til  that  Cupide  and  Venus  eke 
A  medicfnd  for  the  seke 
Ordeine  wolden  in  this  cas  ; 
So  as  fortune  thannd  was 
Of  love  upon  the  destind 
It  fell  right  as  it  shulde  be. 
A  fresshe,  a  free,  a  frendly  man, 
That  nought  of  Avarice*  can, 
Which  Croceus  by  name  hight, 
Toward  this  swete  cast  his  sight 
And  there  she  was  cam  in  presence; 
She  sigh  him  large  of  his  despense 
And  amorous  and  glad  of  chere, 
So  that  her  liketh  well  to  here 
The  goodly  wordds  which  he  saide, 
And  therupon  of  love  he  praide. 
Of  love  was  all  that  he  ment, 
To  love  and  for  she  shulde  assent 
He  yaf  her  yiftds  ever  among. 
But  for  men  sain  that  { Mede  is 

strong ' 

It  was  well  sene  at  thilkd  tide, 
For  as  it  shulde  of  right  betide 
This  Viola  largesse  hath  take 
And  the  nigdrd  she  hath  forsake. 
Of  Babio  she  will  no  more, 
For  he  was  grucchend  evermore, 
There  was  with  him  none  other  fare, 
But  for  to  pinche  and  for  to  spare, 
Of  worldds  muck  to  get  encres. 
So  goth  the  wrecche  lovdles 
Bejapdd  for  his  Scarsitd : 
And  he  that  large  was  and  fre 
And  set  his  hertd  to  despende, 
This  Croceus  his  bowd  bende 
Which  Venus  toke  him  for  to  holde, 
And  shot  as  ofte  as  ever  he  wolde. 
"  Lo,  thus  departeth  love  his  lawe, 
That    what   man  woll  nought  be 

felawe 

To  yive  and  spende,  as  I  the  telle, 
He  is  nought  worthy  for  to  dwelle 
In  Love's  Court  to  be  relieved. 


Forth^  my  sone,  if  I  be  leved, 
Thou  shalt  be  large   of  thy   de 
spense." — 

"  My  fader,  in  my  conscience 
If  there  be  any  thinge  amis, 
I  wolde  amende  it  after  this 
Toward  my  love'  namely." — 

"  My  sond,  well  and  reddly 
Thou  saist,  so  that  well  paid  withall 
I  am,  and  further  if  I  shall 
Unto  thy  shriftd  specific 
Of  Avarice  the  progenie, 
What  Vied  sueth  after  this, 
Thou  shalt  have  wonder  how  it  is 
Among  the  folke  in  any  regne, 
That  such  a  Vice  mightd  regne, 
Whiche  is  comune  at  all  assaies, 
As  men  may  finde  now  a  daies. 

Qfye  pice  like  unto  the  Fende, 
Which  never  yet  was  mannesfrende, 
And  cleped  is  Unkinddship, 
Of  covine  and  of  felaship 
With  Avarice  he  is  witholde. 
Him  thenketh  he  shuld  nought  ben 

holde 

Unto  the  moder  which  him  bare. 
Of  him  may  never  man  beware, 
He  wol  nought  knowd  the  merite 
For  that  he  wolde  it  nought  aquite, 
Which  in  this  worlde  ismochelused, 
And  fewd  ben  therof  excused. 
To  tell  of  him  is  enddles, 
But  thus  I  said  netheles, 
Where  as  this  Vice  cometh  to  londe 
There  taketh  no  man  his  thanke 

on  honde ; 
Though  he  with  all  his  mightds 

serve 

He  shall  of  him  no  thank  deserve ; 
He  taketh  what  any  man  will  yive 
But  while  he  hath  o  day  to  live 
He  wol  no  thfng  rewarde  ayein, 
He  gruccheth  for  to  yive  o  grein 
Where  he  hath  take  a  bernd  full. 
That  maketh  a  kindd  hertd  dull, 


276 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


To  set  his  trust  in  such  frendship 
There  as  he  fint  no  kindeship. 
And  for  to  speke  wordes  pleine, 
Thus  here  I  many  a  man  com- 

pleigne 

That  no  we  on  dales  thou  shalt  finae 
At  nede  fewe  frendes  kinde. 
What  thou  hast  done  for  hem  to- 
fore 

It  is  foryeten  as  it  were  lore.1 
The  bokes  speken  of  this  Vice 
And  telle  how  God  of  his  justice 
By  way  of  kinde,  and  eke  nature 
And  every  liflich  creature, 
The  lawe  also,  who  that  it  can, 
They  dampnen  an  unkinde  man. 
"  It  is  all  one,  to  say  Unkinde 
Asthingwhichdoneisayein  Kinde,2 
For  it  with  Kinde  never  stood 
A  man  to  yielden  evil  for  good. 
For  who  that  wolde  taken  hede, 
A  beste  is  glad  of  a  good  dede 
And  loveth  thilke  creature 
After  the  lawe  of  his  nature 
And  doth  him  ese.      And  for  to  se 
Of  this  matere  auctorite, 
Full  ofte  time  it  hath  befalle  ; 
Wherof  a  tale  amonges  alle, 
Which  is  of  olde  ensamplarie, 
I  thenke  for  to  specific. 

"§0  spe&e  of  an  unkinde  man 
I  finde,  how  whilome  Adrian 
Of  Rome,  which  a  great  lorde  was, 
Upon  a  day  as  he  par  cas 
To  wode  in  his  hunting  went, 
It  hapneth  at  a  sodein  went, 
After  the  chase  as  he  pursueth, 
Through    happe,    which   no   man 

escheueth, 

He  felle  unware  into  a  pit, 
Where  that  it  mightd  nought  be  let. 
The  pit  was  depe,  and  he  fell  lowe, 
That  of  his  men  none  mighte  knowe 
Where  he  became,  for  none  was  nigh 


1  Lore,  lost. 


2  Kinde,  nature. 


Which  of  his  fall  the  mischefe  sigh. 
And  thus  alone  there  he  lay 
Clepende  and  criend  all  the  day 
For  socoure  and  deliverance, 
Till  ayein  eve  it  fell  per  chance, 
A  while  er  it  began  to  night, 
A  pouer  man  which  Bardus  hight 
Cam  forthe  walkend  with  his  asse 
And  hadde  gadered  him  a  tasse  * 
Of  grene  stickes  and  of  drie 
To  selle  whom  that  wolde  hem  bie, 
As  he  which  had  no  livelode 
But  whan  he  mighte  suche  a  lode 
To  towne  with  his  asse'  carie. 
And  as  it  fel  him  for  to  tarie 
That  ilke  time  nigh  the  pit 
And  hath  the  trusse  faste  knit, 
Heherde  avois,  which  cried  dimmc, 
And  he  his  ere  to  the  brimme 
Hath  leide  and  herde  it  was  a  man, 
Which  saide,  '  O  helpe  here  Adrian, 
And  I  will  yive  half  my  good  ! ' 
The  pouer  man  this  understood 
As  he  that  wolde  gladly  win, 
And  to  this  lord  which  was  within 
He  spake  and  said,  '  If  I  the  save, 
What  sikernesse  shall  I  have 
Of  covenant,  that  afterwarde 
Thou  wolt  me  yive'  such  rewarde, 
As  thou  behightest  now  before  ? ' 
That  other  hath  his  othes  swore 
By  heven  and  by  the  goddes  alle, 
If  that  it  mighte  so  befalle 
That  he  out  of  the  pit  him  brought, 
Of  all  the  goodes  which  he  ought  2 
He  shall  have  even  halven  dele. 

This  Bardus  said,  he  wolde  wele. 
And  with  this  worde  his  asse  anon 
He  let  untrusse,  and  therupon 
Down  goth  the  corde  into  the  pit, 
To  whiche  he  hath  at  ende  knit 
A  staff,  wherby,  he  saide,  he  wolde 
That  Adrian  him  shulde  holde. 
But  it  was  tho  per  chaunce  falle, 

1  Tasse,  heap.  2  Ought,  owned. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


277 


Into  that  pit  was  also  falle 
An  Ape',  which  at  thilke  throwe, 
Whan  that  the  cordd  cam  down  lowe, 
All  sodeinly  therto  he  skipte 
And  it  in  both  his  arme's  clipte. 
And  Bardus  with  his  asse  anone 
Him  hath  up  draw,  and  he  is  gon. 
But  whan  he  sigh  it  was  an  Ape, 
He  wend  all  hadde  ben  a  jape 
Of  faierie,  and  sore  him  dradde. 
And  Adrian  eft  sone  gradde 
Forhelpeand  cride  andpreide  faste. 
And  he  eftsone  his  corde  caste. 
But  whan  it  came  unto  the  grounde, 
A  great  serpe'nt  it  hath  bewounde, 
The  which  Bardus  anone  up  drough. 
And  than  him  thoughte  wel  inough, 
It  was  fantasme  that  he  herde 
The  vois,  and  he  therto  answerde : 
'What  wight  art  thou  in  godde's 

name  ? ' 

1 1  am,'  quod  Adrian,  '  the  same, 
Whose  good  thou  shalt  have  even 

halfe.' 

Quod  Bardus  '  Than  a  godde's  halfe 
The  thridde  time  assaie  I  shall/ 
And  cast  his  cordd  forth  withall 
Into  the  pit,  and  whan  it  came 
To  him,  this  lord  of  Rome  it  name 
And  therupon  him  hath  adressed 
And  with  his  hond  ful  ofte*  blessed. 
And  than  he  bad  to  Bardus  « Hale ! ' l 
And  he,  which  understood  his  tale, 
Betwene  him  and  his  asse  all  softe 
Hath  drawe  and  set  him  up  a  lofte 
Withouten  harm  all  esely. 
He  saith  not  one's  '  graunt  mercy,'2 
But  straught  him  forth  to  the  citee 
And  let  this  pouer  Bardus  be. 
And  nethdles  this  simple  man 
His  covenaunt,  so  as  he  can, 
Hath  axe'd     And  that  other  saide, 
If  so  be  that  he  him  upbraide 

1  Hale,  "  Haul  up ! " 

3  Grannt  mercy,  thank  you. 


Of  ought  that  hath  be  spoke  or  do, 
It  shall  be  venge'd  of  him  so 
That  him  were  better  to  be  dede. 
And  he  can  tho  no  other  rede ; 
But  on  his  asse  ayein  he  cast 
His  trusse  and  hieth  homward  fast. 
And  whan  that  he  came  home  to  bed, 
He  tolde  his  wife  how  that  he  sped. 
"  But  finally,  to  speke  ought  more 
Unto  this  lorde  he  drad  him  sore, 
So  that  a  word  ne  durst  he  sain. 
And  thus  upon  the  monve  ayein 
In  the  mane'r  as  I  recorde, 
Forth  with  his  asse  and  with  his 

corde 

To  gader  wode,  as  he  did  er, 
He  goth,  and  whan  that  he  cam  ner 
Unto  the  place  where  he  wolde, 
He  gan  his  Ape  anone  beholde, 
Which  had  gade're'd  al  aboute 
Of  sticke's  here  and  there  a  route 
And  leide  hem  redy  to  his  honde, 
Wherof  he  made  his   trusse  and 

bonde. 

Fro  daie  to  daie  and  in  this  wise 
This  Ap£  profreth  his  servise, 
So  that  he  had  of  wode  inough. 
Upon  a  time  and  as  he  drough 
Toward  the  wode,  he  sigh  beside 
The  greate  gastly  serpent  glide 
Till  that  she  cam  in  his  presence, 
And  in  her  kinde  a  reverence 
She  hath  him  do,  and  forth  withall 
A  stone  more  bright  than  a  cristall 
Out  of  her  mouth  to-fore  his  way 
She  let  down  fall  and  went  away, 
For  that  he  shall  nought  ben  adrad. 
"Tho  was  this  pouer  Bardus  glad, 
Thonke'nde'  God,  and  to  the  stone 
He  goth  and  taketh  it  up  anone 
And  hath  great  wonder  in  his  witte 
How  that  the  beste  him  hathaquitte 
Where  that  the  manne's  sone  hath 

failed 
For  whom  he  hadde  most  travailed. 


278 


CO  N FES  SI 0  A  MANTIS. 


But  all  he  put  in  Goddes  honde 
And  torneth  home,  and  what  he 

fonde 

Unto  his  wife  he  hath  it  shewed 
And  they,  that  weren  bothe  lewed, 
Accorden  that  he  shulde  it  selle. 
And  he  no  lenger  wolde"  dwelle  l 
But  forth  anone  upon  the  tale 
The  stone  he  profreth  to  the  sale  ; 
'And  right  as  he  him  selfe  it  sette, 
The  jueller  anone  forth  fette 
The  golde  and  made  his  paie"ment, 
Therof  was  no  delaiement. 
Thus  whan  this  stone  was  bought 

and  sold, 

Homwa"rd  with  joie  many  fold 
This  Bardus  goth,and  whan  he  cam 
Horn  to  his  hous  and  that  he  nam 
His  gold  out  of  his  purs  withinne, 
He  fonde  his  stone  also  therinne, 
Wherof  for  joy  his  herte  plaide, 
Unto  his  wife  and  thus  he  saide, 
*  Lo,  here  my  golde, — lo,  here  my 

stone ! ' 

His  wife  hath  wonder  therupon, 
And  axeth  him  how  that  may  be. 
'  Now  by  my  trouth,  I  not,'2  quod  he, 
'  But  I  dare  swere  upon  a  boke 
That  to  my  marchant  I  it  toke, 
And  he  it  hadde  whan  I  went. 
So  know  I  nought  to  what  entent 
It  is  now  here,  but  it  be  grace. 
Forthy  to  morwe  in  other  place 
I  will  it  foundd  3  for  to  selle, 
And   if  it   woll  nought   with  him 

dwelle, 

But  crepe  into  my  purse  ayein, 
Than  dare  I  saufly  swere  and  sain, 
It  is  the  vertue  of  the  stone.' 

"The  morwe  came,  and  he  is  gone 
To  seche  about  in  other  stede 
His  stone  to  selle,  and  so  he  clede 
And  lefte  it  with  his  chapman  there. 

1  Dtvclle,  delay. 
2  Not,  know  not.  •>  Founde,  try. 


But  whan  that  he  came  elles  where, 
In  presence  of  his  wife  at  home, 
Out  of  his  purs  and  that  he  nome 
His  golde,  he  founde  his  stone  withal. 
And  thus  it  felle  him  overal 
Where  he  it  solde  in  sondrie  place, 
Such  was  the  fortune  and  the  grace. 
But  so  well  may  nothing  be  hid, 
That  it  nis  atte*  laste  kid.1 
This  fame"  goth  aboute  Rome 
So  ferforth,  that  the  wordes  come 
To  themperour  Justinian, 
And  he  let  sende  for  the  man 
And  axed  him,  how  that  it  was. 

"And  Bardus  tolde  him  all  the  cas, 
How  that  the  worme  and  eke  the 

beste, 

Al  though  they  made  no  beheste, 
His  travaile  hadden  well  aquit. 
But  he  which  had  a  mannes  wit 
And  made  his  covenant  by  mouth 
And  swore  therto  all  that  he  couth 
To  parte  and  yive'  half  his  good 
Hath  now  foryete  how  that  it  stood, 
As  he  which  wol  no  trouthe  holde. 
This  emperour  al  that  he  tolde 
Hathherde  andthilke  unkinde*nesse, 
He  said,  he  wolde  him  self  redresse. 
And  thus  in  court  of  jugement 
This  Adrian  was  than  assent,2 
And  the  quarell  in  audience 
Declared  was  in  the  presence 
Of  themperour  and  many  mo  ; 
Wherof  was  mochel  speche  tho 
And    great    wondring  among    the 

press. 

But  atte  laste  nethe'less, 
For  the  partie  which  hath  pleigned 
The  law  hath  demed  and  ordeigned 
By  hem  that  were  avised  wele, 
That  he  shal  have  the  halven  dele 
Throughout  of  Adrianes  good. 
And  thus  of  thilke  unkinde  blood 
Stant  the  membire  unto  this  day, 

1  Kid,  made  known.          2  Assent,  sent  for. 


BOOK  F.— AVARICE. 


279 


Where  that  every  wise  man  may 
Ensamplen  him  and  take  in  minde 
What  shame  it  is  to  ben  unkinde, 
Ayein  the  which  reson  debateth 
And  every  creature  it  hateth. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  in  thy  office 
I  rede'  flee  that  ilkd  Vice. 
For  right  as  the  cronfque'  saith 
Of  Adrian,  how  he  his  feith 
Foryat  for  worldes  covetise, 
Ful  oft  in  suche  a  maner  wise 
Of  lovers  now  a  man  may  se 
Ful  many  that  unkindd  be, 
For  wel  behote  and  evil  last 
That  is  her  life,1  for  atte  last 
Whan  that  they  have  her  wille  do 
Her  love  is  sone  afte'r  ago. 
What    saist    thou,    son<5,    to    this 
cas  ?  "— 

"  My  fader,  I  wil  say,  Helas, 
That  ever  such  a  man  was  bore 
Which  whan  he  hath  his  trouthe 

swore 

And  hath  of  love*  what  he  wolde, 
That  he  at  any  time*  sholde 
Ever  after  in  his  herte  finde 
To  falsen  and  to  ben  unkinde. 

"  But,  fader,  as  touchdnd  of  me, 
I  may  nought  stond  in  that  degre. 
For  I  toke  never  of  lovd  why 
That  I  ne  may  wel  go  therby 
And  do  my  profite  ellds  where 
For  any  spede  I  findd  there, 
I  dare  wel  thenken,  all  about. 
But  I  ne  dare  nought  speke  it  out, 
And  if  I  dorst  I  wolde  pleigne. 
That  she  for  whom  I  suffrd  peine 
And  love  her  ever  alichd  hote, 
That  nouther  yive  ne  behote 
In  rewarding  of  my  service 
It  list  2  her  in  no  maner  wise. 
I  wol  nought  say  that  she  is  kinde, 
And  for  to  say  she  is  unkinde 

1  Well  promised  and  ill  performed,  that  is 
their  life. 

2  List,  pleases. 


That  dare  I  nought  by  God  above 
Which  demeth  every  herte  of  love, 
He  wot  that  on  min  ownd  side 
Shall  none  unkinde'ship  abide  ; 
If  it  shall  with  my  lady  dwelle, 
Therof  dare  I  no  more*  telle. 
Now,  godd  fader,  as  it  is 
Tell   me,    what    thenketh    you  of 

this  ?  "— 

My  sone,  of  that  unkinde'ship, 
The  which  toward  thy  ladisship 
Thou  pleignest,  for  she  woll  the 

nought, 

Thou  art  to  blamen  of  thy  thought. 
For  it  may  be  that  thy  desire, 
Though  it  brenne  ever  as  doth  the 

fire, 

Par  cas  to  her  honour  misset, 
Or  elles  time*  come  nought  yet 
Which  stant  upon  thy  destine. 
Forthy  my  sone,  I  rede  the 
Thenk  well,  what  ever  the  befalle, 
For  no  man  hath  his  lustds  alle. 
But  as  thou  toldest  me  before 
That  thou  to  love  art  nought  for 
swore 

And  hast  done  non  unkindenesse, 
Thou  might  therof  thy  grace  blesse 
And  levd  nought  that  cdntinua'nce, 
For  there  may  be  no  such  grevdnce 
To  love  as  is  Unkinde'ship. 
Wherof  to  kepe  thy  worshfp, 
So  as  these  oldd  bokes  tale, 
I  shall  the  telle  a  redy  tale. 
Now  herken  and  be  ware  therby, 
For  I  will  telle  it  openly. 

"  "jXUnoc,  as  telleth  the  podte, 
The  which  whilom  was   king  of 

Crete, 

A  sond  had  and  Androchee 
He  hight.     And  so  befell  that  he 
Unto  Athene's  for  to  lere 
Was  sent,  and  so  he  bare  him  there 
For  that  he  was  of  high  ligndge, 
Such  pride  he  toke  in  his  cordge, 


280 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS, 


That  he  foryeten  hath  the  scoles, 
And  in  riot  among  the  fooles 
He  didde  many  thinges  wronge 
And  used  thilkd  life  so  longe, 
Til  att£  last  of  that  he  wrought 
He  found  the  mischefe  which  he 

sought, 

Wherof  it  fell  that  he  was  slain. 
His  fader,  which  it  herde  sain, 
Was  wroth,  and  all  that  ever  he  might 
Of  men  of  armes  he  him  dight 
A  strong  power  and  forth  he  went 
Unto  Athene's,  where  he  brent 
The  pleind  contr£  al  aboute. 
The  cite"s  stood  of  him  in  doubte  l 
As  they  that  no  defence  had 
Ayein  the  power  which  he  lad. 
Egeus  which  was  there  king 
His  counseil  toke  upon  this  thing, 
For  he  was  than  in  the  citee, 
So  that  of  pees  into  tretee 
Betwene  Minos  and  Egeus 
They  fell,  and  bene  accorded  thus, 
That  king  Minos  fro  yere  to  yere 
Receive  shal  as  thou  shalt  here 
Out  of  Athene's  for  truage 
Of  men  that  were  of  mighty  age 
Persone"s  nine,  of  which  he  shall 
His  wille  don  in  speciall 
For  vengeaunce  of  his  sones  deth, 
None  other  grac£  there  ne  geth 
But  for  to  take  the  juise,2 
And  that  was  don  in  suche  a  wise. 
Upon  which  stood  a  wonder  cas. 
For  thilke  time  so  it  was, 
Wherof  that  men  yet  rede  and  sing, 
King  Minos  had  in  his  keping 
A  cruel  monster,  as  saith  the  gest. 
For  he  was  half  man  and  half  beste, 
And  Minotaurus  he  was  hote, 
Which  was  begotten  in  a  riote 
Upon  Pasiphe,  his  owne  wife, 
Whil  he  was  out  upon  the  strife 
Of  thilke  greate*  siege  at  Troie. 

1  Doulte,  fear.  -  Juise,  judgment. 


But  she  which  lost  hath  alle  joie 
Whan  that  she  sigh  this  monster  bore 
Bad  men  ordeigne  anon  therfore. 
And  fell  that  ilke  timd  thus, 
There  was  a  clerke,  one  Dedalus, 
Which  hadde  ben  of  her  assent 1 
Of  that  her  world  was  so  miswent  ] 
And  he  made  of  his  owne  wit, 
Wherof  the  remembraiince  is  yit, 
For  Minotaurd  suche  a  hous 
That  was  so  stronge  and  merveildus 
That  what  man  that  withinne  went, 
There  was  so  many  a  sondry  went 
That  he  ne  shulde  nought  come  out, 
But  gone  amased  all  about. 
And  in  this  hous  to  locke  and  warde 
Was  Minotaurus  put  in  warde, 
That  what  life  2  that  therinnd  cam, 
Or  man  or  beste,  he  overcam 
And  slough,  and  fed  him  therupon. 
And  in  this  wis£  many  one 
Out  of  Athenes  for  truage 
Devoured  weren  in  that  rage. 
For  every  yere  they  shope  hem  so, 
They  of  Athenes  er  they  go 
Toward  that  ilk£  wofull  chaunce 
As  it  was  set  in  ordenaunce, 
Upon  Fortune  her  lot  they  cast  ; 
Till  that  Theseus  atte  laste, 
Which  was  the  kinges  sone  there 
Amonge's  other  that  there  were, 
In  thilke  yere  as  it  befell 
The  lot  upon  his  chaunce  fell. 
He  was  a  worthy  knight  withall, 
And  whan  he  sigh  his  chaunce  fall, 
He  ferde  as  though  he  toke  none 

hede, 

But  all  that  ever  he  might  spede 
With  him  and  with  his  felaship 
Forth  into  Crete  he  goth  by  ship, 
Where  thatthe  king  Minos  he  sought 
And  profreth  all  that  he  him  ought 
Upon  the  point  of  her  accorde. 

1  Of  her  assent,  sent  for  by  her. 

2  Life,  body ;  what  life,  whoever. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


281 


This  sterne  king,  this  cruel  lorde, 
Toke  every  day  one  of  the  nine 
And  put  into  the  discipline 
Of  Minotaure  to  be  devoured. 
But  Theseus  was  so  favoured 
That  he  was  kept  till  attd  last, 
And  in  the  meand  while  he  cast 
What  thing  him  were*  best  to  do. 
And  fell,  that  Ariadne  tho, 
Which  was  the  doughter  of  Minos, 
And  hadde  herd  the  worthy  los  1 
Of  Theseus  and  of  his  might 
And  sigh  he  was  a  lusty  knight, 
Her  hold  herte  on  him  she  laide. 
And  he  also  of  love  her  praide 
So  ferforth  that  they  were  alone, 
And  she  ordeineth  than  anone 
In  what  mandr  she  shuld  him  save. 
And  shopd  so,  she  did  him  have 
A  clue  of  threde  of  which  withinne 
First  attd  dore  he  shall  beginne 
With  him  to  take*  that  one  ende, 
That  whan  he  wold  ayein  ward  wende 
He  might^  go  the  same  wey. 
And  over  this  so  as  I  say, 
Of  pitch  she  toke  him  a  pelote,2 
The  which  he  shulde  into  the  throte 
Of  Minotaurd  castd  right. 
Such  wepon  also  for  him  she  dight, 
That  he  by  reson  may  nought  faile 
To  make  an  ende  of  his  bataile. 
For  she  him  taught  in  sondry  wise 
Till  he  was  knowe  of  thilke  emprise 
How  he  this  beste  shulde'  quelle. 
And  thus  short  tale  for  to  telle, 
So  as  this  maiden  him  had  taught 
Theseus  with  this  monster  faught 
And  smote  of  his  hede,  the  whiche 

he  nam, 

And  by  the  thred,  so  as  he  cam 
He  goth  ayein,  til  he  were  out. 
So  was  great  wonder  all  about ; 
Minds  the  tribute  hath  relesed, 

1  Lot,  praise. 

a  Toke  him  a  pelote,  gave  him  a  ball. 


And  so  was  all  the  werre  cesed 
Betwene  Athenes  and  hem  of  Crete. 
"  Butnow  to  speke  of  thilkd  swete 
Whose  beautd  was  withoutd  wan, 
This  faire  maiden  Adrianc, 
Whan  that  she  sigh  Theseus  sounde 
Was  never  yet  upon  this  grounde 
A  gladder  wight  than  she  was  tho. 
Theseus  dwelt  a  day  or  two 
Where  that  Minds  great  chere  him 

ded. 

Theseus  in  a  privd  sted 
Hath  with  this  maiden  spoke  and 

rouned,1 

That  she  to  him  was  abandoiined  ; 
For  he  so  faird  tho  behight 2 
That  ever  while  he  livd  might 
He  shuld  her  takd  for  his  wife 
And  as  his  owne  hertes  life 
He  wolde  her  love  and  trouthe  bere. 
And  she,  which  mightd  nought  for- 

bere, 

So  sord  lovdth  him  ayein, 
That  what  as  ever  he  wold  sain 
With  all  her  herte  she  beleveth. 
And  thus  his  purpos  he  acheveth, 
So  that  assurdd  of  his  trouthe 
With  him  she  went,  and  that  was 

routhe. 

Fedra  her  yongd  suster  eke, 
A  lusty  maide,  a  sobre,  a  meke, 
Fulfilldd  of  all  curtesie, 
For  susterhode  and  compaignie 
Of  lovd  which  was  hem  betwene, 
To  sen  her  suster  made  a  quene 
Her  fader  lefte  and  forth  she  went 
With  him  which  all  his  first  entent 
Foryat  within  a  litel  throwe,3 
So  that  it  was  all  over  throwe 
Whan  she  best  wend  it  shuldd  stonde. 
The  ship  was  blowd  fro  the  londe, 
Wherinnd  that  they  sailend  were. 
This  Ariadne  had  mochel  fere 

1  Routifd,  whispered. 

-  Tho  Mtight,  then  promised. 

3  T/trmut,  space  of  time. 


282 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  that  the  wind  so  loucle  blewe, 
As  she  which  of  the  see  ne  knewe, 
And  praide  for  to  reste  a  while. 
And  so  fell  that  upon  an  ile 
Which  Chio  highte  they  ben  drive, 
Where  he  to  her  hath  leve  yive, 
That  she  shall  lond  and  take  her 

rest, 

But  that  was  nothing  for  her  best. 
For  whan  she  was  to  londe  brought, 
She,  which  that  time  thoughte 

nought 

But  alle  trouth  and  toke  no  kepe, 
Hath  laid  her  softe  for  to  slepe, 
As  she  which  longe  hath  ben  for- 

wacched. 

But  certes  she  was  evil  macched 
And  fer  from  alle  loves  kinde. 
For  more  than  the  beste 1  unkinde 
Theseus,  which  no  trouthe  kept, 
While  that  this  yonge  lady  slept, 
Fulfilled  of  all  unkindeship 
Hath  all  foryete  the  godeship, 
Whiche  Ariadne  him  hadde  do, 
And  bad  unto  the  shipmen  tho 
Hale  up  the  saile  and  nought  abide, 
And  forth  he  goth  the  same*  tide 
Towarde  Athenes,and  her  on  londe 
He  lefte,  which  lay  nigh  the  stronde 
Slepende  til  that  she  awoke. 
But  whan  that  she  cast  up  her  loke 
Toward  the  stronde  and  sigh  no 

wight, 

Her  herte  was  so  sore  aflight  2 
That  she  ne  wiste  what  to  thinke 
But  drough  her  to  the  water  brinke, 
Where  she  beheld  the  see  at  large. 
She  sigh  no  ship,  she  sigh  no  barge 
Als  ferforth  as  she  mighte  kenne. 
'Halord/shesaide/whichasenne, 
As  all  the  world  shall  after  here, 
Upon  this  wofull  woman  here 
This  worthy  knight  hath  done  and 

wrought, 

1  Beste,  beast.  2  AJlight,  afflicted. 


I  wend  I  had  his  love  bought, 
And  so  deserved  atte  nede, 
Whan  that  he  stood  upon  his  drede, 
And  eke  the  love  he  me  behight. 
It  is  great  wonder,  how  he  might 
Towardes  me  now  ben  unkinde, 
And  so  to  let  out  of  his  minde 
Thing  which  hesaidhis  ownemouth. 
But  after  this,  whan  it  is  couth 
And  drawe  into  the  worldes  fame, 
It  shall  ben  hindring  of  his  name. 
For  well  he  wote,  and  so  wote  I, 
He  yafe  his  trouthe  bodily 
That  he  min  honour  shulde  kepe.' 
And  with  that  word  she  gan  to  wepe 
And  sorweth  more  than  inough. 
Her  faire  tresses  she  to-drough 
And  with  her  self  toke  such  a  strife, 
That  she  betwene  the  deth  and  life 
Swounende  lay  full  oft  amonge. 
And  all  was  this  on  him  alonge, 
Which  was  to  love  unkind^  so, 
Wherof  the  wrong  shall  evermo 
Stond  in  cronique  of  remembraun  ce. 
And  eke  it  axeth  a  vengeaunce 
To  ben  unkinde  in  loves  cas 
So  as  Theseus  thanne  was, 
All  though  he  were  a  noble  knight. 
For  he  the  lawe  of  loves  right 
Forfeited  hath  in  alle  way, 
That  Ariadne  he  put  away, 
Which  was  a  great  unkinde  dede. 
And  after  this,  so  as  I  rede, 
Fedra,  the  which  her  suster  is, 
He  toke  in  stede  of  her,  and  this 
Fell  afterward  to  mochel  tene. 
For  thilke  Vice  of  whiche  I  mene, 
Unkindeship,  where  that  it  falleth 
The  trouthe  of  manneshert  it  palleth 
That  he  can  no  good  dede  acquite, 
So  may  he  stonde  of  no  merite 
Towardes  God  and  eke  also 
Men  clepen  him  the  worldes  fo, 
For  he  no  more  than  the  Fende 
Unto  none  other  man  is  frende, 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


But  all  toward  him  self  alone. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  in  thy  persone 
This  Vice  above  all  other  fle." — 

My  fader,  as  ye  techen  me, 
I  thenke'  don  in  this  matere. 
But  over  this  now  wold  I  here, 
Wherof  I  shall  me  shrivd  more." 

"  My  godd  sone,  as  for  thy  lore, 
After  the  reule  of  Covetise, 
I  shall  the  proprete  devise 
Of  every  Vice  by  and  by. 
Now  herke  and  be  wel  ware  therby. 

"  gn  tfyc  liQnaQC  of  Avarice, 
My  sone',  yet  there  is  a  Vice, 
His  right^  name  it  is  Ravine, 
Which  hath  a  route  of  his  covine. 
Ravine  among  the  maisters  dwel- 

leth, 

And  with  his  servants  as  mentelleth 
Extortion  is  now  witholde. 
Ravine  of  other  menne's  folde 
Maketh    his    larder    and    paieth 

nought. 

For  where  as  ever  it  may  be  sought 
In  his  hous  there  shall  no  thing 

lacke, 

And  that  ful  ofte  abieth  the  packe 
Of  pouer  men  that  dwelle  aboute  ; 
Thus  stant  the  comune  people  in 

doubte, 

Which  can  do  none  amendement. 
For  whan  him  faileth  paiement, 
Ravine  maketh  non  other  skille, 
But  taketh  by  strength  al  that  he 

wille. 

So  ben  there  in  the  same*  wise 
Lovdrs,  as  I  the  shall  devise, 
That  whan  nought  elles  may  availe, 
Anone  with  strength^  they  assaile 
And  get  of  love  the  sesine 
Whan  they  se  time',  by  ravine. 
"  Forthy  my   sond,  shrive  the 

here, 

If  thou  hast  ben  a  ravinere 
Of  love."—"  Certes,  fader,  no, 


For  I  my  lady  lovd  so 

For  though  I  were  as  was  Pompey 

That  all  the  world  me  wolde  obey, 

Or  die's  such  as  Alisaundre, 

I  woldd  nought  do  suche  a  sclaun- 

der. 

It  is  no  good  man,  which  so  doth. "- 
"  In  godd  feith,  sone,  thou  saist 

soth. 

For  he  that  woll  of  purvednce 
By  such  a  wey  his  lust  avance 
He  shall  it  after  sore  abie, 
But  if1  these  olde  ensamples  lie."- 

"  Now,  gode  fader,  tell  me  one, 
So  as  ye  connen  many  one, 
Touche'nd  of  love  in  this  matere." — 
"  Now  list,  my  sone,  and  thou 

shalt  here 

So  as  it  hath  befall  er  this 
In  loves  cause  how  that  it  is, 
A  man  to  take  by  ravine 
The  preie  which  is  feminine. 

^crc  was  a  roial  noble  kinge, 
A  riche  of  alle  worldes  thinge, 
Which  of  his  propre  enheritaunce 
Athene's  had  in  governaunce, 
And  whoso  thenke  therupon, 
His  name  was  king  Pandion. 
Two    doughters    had  he    by  his 

wife, 

The  which  he  loved  as  his  life. 
The  firste  doughter  Progne'  hight, 
And  the  seconde,  as  she  well  might, 
Was  clepe'd  faire'  Philomene, 
To  whom  fell  after  mochel  tene.2 
The  fader  of  his  purvednce 
His  doughter  Progne'  wolde  avance, 
And  yafe  her  unto  maridge 
A  worthy  king  of  high  ligndge, 
A  noble  knight  eke  of  his  honde, 
So  was  he  kid  3  in  every  londe. 
Of  Trace*  he  hight  Tereus, 
The  clerke  Ovfde  telleth  thus. 

1  But  if,  unless.  2  Totf,  sorrow. 

^  Kid,  made  known,  renowned. 


284 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


This  Tereus  his  wife  home  lad, 
A  lusty  life  with  her  he  had 
Till  it  befell  upon  a  tide, 
This  Progne,  as  she  lay  him  beside, 
Bethought  her  how  it  mighte  be 
That  she  her  suster  mighte  se ; 
And  to  her  lorde  her  will  she  saide 
With  goodly  wordes  and  him  praide 
That  she  unto  her  mighte  go, 
And  if  it  liked  him  nought  so, 
That  than  he  wolde  him  selve  wende, 
Or  elles  by  some  other  sende 
Which  might  her  dere  suster  grete 
And  shape  how  that  they  mighten 

mete. 

Her  lorde  anone  to  that  he  herde 
Yaf  his  accorde  and  thus  answerde  : 
*  I  woll,'  he  saide,  '  for  thy  sake, 
The  wey  after  thy  suster  take 
My  self  and  bring  her,  if  I  may.' 
And  she  with  that,  there  as  she  lay, 
Began  him  in  her  armes  clippe 
And  kist  him  with  her  softe  lippe 
And  saide  :   '  Sire,  graunt  mercy.' 
And  he  sone  after  was  red^ 
And  toke  his  leve  for  to  go. 
In  sory  time  did  he  so. 
This  Tereus  goth  forth  to  shippe 
With  him  and  all  his  felashippe. 
By  sea  the  righte  cours  he  nam 
Unto  the  contre  till  he  cam 
Where  Philomene  was  dwelling, 
And  of  her  suster  the  tiding 
He  tolde  and  tho  they  weren  glad 
And  mochel  joie  of  him  they  made. 
The  fader  and  the  moder  bothe 
To  leve  her  doughter  were  lothe 
But  if  they  weren  in  presence, 
And  netheles  at  reverence 
Of  him  that  wolde  him  self  travaile, 
They  wolde  nought  he  shulde  faile, 
And  that  they  praiden  yive  her  leve. 
And  she  that  wolde  nought  beleve l 
In  alle  haste  made  her  ynre2 

1  Beleve,  stay  behind.          -  Yare,  ready. 


Toward  her  suster  for  to  fare 
With  Tereus  and  forth  she  went. 
And  he  with  al  his  hole  entent 
Whan  she  was  fro  her  frendes  go 
Assoteth  of  her  love  so 
His  eye  might  he  nought  witholde 
That  he  ne  must  on  her  beholde, 
And  with  the  sight  he  gan  desire 
And  set  his  owne  hert  a  fire. 
And  fire  whan  it  to  tow  approcheth 
To  him  anon  the  strength  accro- 

cheth/ 

Till  with  his  hete  it  be  devoured, 
The  tow  ne  may  nought  be  soc- 

coured. 

And  so  the  tirann  ravinere, 
Whan  that  she  was  in  his  powere, 
And  he  therto  sigh  time  and  place, 
As  he  that  lost  hath  all  his  grace, 
Foryate  he  was  a  wedded  man, 
And  in  a  rage  on  her  he  ran 
Right  as  a  wolf  that  taketh  his  pray. 
And  she  began  to  crie  and  pray : 

*  O  fader  dere,  o  moder  dere, 
Now  help  ! '     But  they  ne  might  it 

here, 

And  she  was  of  to  litel  might 
Defence  ayein  so  rude  a  knight 
To  make  whan  he  was  so  wode 
That  he  no  reson  understode. 
But  whan  she  to  her  selve  come 
And  of  her  mischefe  hede  nome 
And  knewe  how  that  she  was  no 

maide, 
With  wofull  hertd  thus  she  saide  : 

*  O  thou  of  alle  men  the  worst, 
Where  was  there  ever  man  that  dorst 
Do  such  a  dede  as  thou  hast  do  ? 
That  day  shall  falle,  I  hope  so, 
That  I  shall  tell  out  all  my  fille 
And  with  my  speche  I  shall  fulfille 
The   wide    worlde   in   brede   and 

length 
That  thou  hast  do  to  me  by  strength. 

1  Accrocheth,  increaseth. 


HOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


285 


If  I  among  the  people  dwelle 
Unto  the  people  I  shall  it  telle ; 
And  if  I  be  withinne'  wall 
Of  stones  closed,  than  I  shall 
Unto  the  stone's  clepe  and  crie, 
And  tellen  hem  thy  felonie  ; 
And  if  I  to  the  wodds  wende, 
There  shall  I  telle*  tale  and  ende 
And  crie  it  to  the  briddes  out, 
That  they  shall  here  it  all  about  : 
For  I  so  loude  it  shall  reherce, 
That  my  vois  shall  the  heven  perce, 
That  it  shall  soune  in  Goddes  ere. 
Ha  false'  man,  where  is  thy  fere  ? 
O  more  cruel  than  any  beste, 
How  hast  thou  holden  thy  behest 
Which  thou  unto  mysuster  madest? 
O  thou,  which  alld  love  ungladest 
And  art  ensample  of  all  untrewe, 
Now  woldd  god  my  suster  knewe 
Of  thin  untrouthe,  how  that  it  stood ! ' 
And  he  than  as  a  Icon  wode l 
With  his  unhappy  hondes  strong 
He  caught  her  by  the  tresses  long 
With  whiche  he  bonde  both  her 

armes, 

That  was  a  feble  dede  of  armes, 
And  to  the  grounde  anone  her  cast, 
And  out  he  clippeth  also  fast 
Her  tunge  with  a  paire  of  sheres. 
So  what  with  blode  and  what  with 

teres, 

Out  of  her  eyne  and  of  her  mouth, 
He  made  her  faire  face  uncouth. 
She  lay  swoune'nd  unto  the  dethe, 
There  was  unnethes  any  brethe. 
But  yet  whan  he  her  tunge  refte, 
A  litel  part  therof  he  lefte. 
But  she  withall  no  word  may  soune 
But  chitre  2  and  as  a  brid  jargoune. 
And  netheles  that  wode  hounde 
Her  body  hent  up  fro  the  grounde 
And  sent  her  there  as  by  his  will 
She  shulde  abide,  in  prison  still 

1  Wode,  madly  raging.          2  Chitrt,  chirp. 


For  ever  mo.     But  now  take  hede 
What  after  fell  of  this  misdede. 
Whan  all  this  mischefe  was  befalle, 
This  Tere'us,  that  foule  him  falle, 
Unto  his  centre'  home  he  tigh,1 
And  whan  he  cam.  his  paleis  nigh, 
His  wife  alredy  there  him  kept. 
Whan  he  her  sigh,  anon  he  wept, 
And  that  he  dide  for  deceipt, 
For  she  began  to  axe  him  streit : 
*  Where  is  my  suster  ? '    And  he  saide 
That  she  was  dede,  and  Progne 

abraide, 

As  she  that  was  a  wofull  wife, 
And  stood  betwene  her  deth  and  life 
Because  she  herde  such  tiding. 
But  for  she  sigh  her  lord  wepfng, 
She  wende  nought  but  alle  trouth 
And  hadde'  wel  the  moid  routh. 
The  perles  were*  tho  forsake 
To  her  and  blackd  clothe's  take, 
As  she  that  was  gentil  and  kinde. 
In  worship  of  her  susters  minde2 
She  made  a  riche  entere'ment,3 
For  she  found  none  amende'ment 
To  sighen  or  to  sobbd  more, 
So  was  there  guile  under  the  gore. 
"  Now  leve"  we  this  king  and 

quene, 

And  tome  ayein  to  Philomene. 
As  I  began  to  tellen  erst, 
Whan  she  cam  into  prison  ferst, 
It    thought    a    kinge's     doughter 

straunge 

To  make  so  sodein  a  chaunge 
Fro  welth  unto  so  great  a  wo. 
And  she  began  to  thenke'  tho, 
Though  she  by  mouthe'  nothing 

praide, 
Within  her  herte*  thus  she  saide  : 

4  O  thou,  almighty  Jupite'r, 
That  highe'  sittest  and  lokest  fer, 


1  Tigh,  drew. 

2  In  reverence  to  her  sister's  memory. 

a  Entere'ment,  interment,  funeral  pomp. 


286 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Thou  suffrest  many  a  wrong  doing, 
And  yet  it  is  nought  thy  willing. 
To  the  there  may  nothing  ben  hid, 
Thou  wost l  how  it  is  me  betid. 
I  wolde  I  hadde  nought  be  bore. 
For  than  I  hadde  nought  forlore 
My  speche  and  my  virginite. 
But  gode  lord,  all  is  in  the, 
Whan    thou    therof  wolt   do   ven- 

geaunce 

And  shape  my  deliveraunce  ! ' 
And  ever  among  this  lady  wepte 
And  thoughte  that  she  never  kepte 
To  be  a  worldes  woman  more, 
And  that  she  wissheth  evermore. 
But  ofte  unto  her  suster  dere 
Her  herte  speketh  in  this  manere 
And  saide  :  'Ha  suster,  if  ye  knewe 
Of  min  estate  ye  wolde'  re  we 
I  trowe,  and  my  deliveraunce 
Ye  wolde  shape,  and  do  vengeaunce 
On  him  that  is  so  fals  a  man. 
And  netheles,  so  as  I  can, 
I  woll  you  send  some  tokening, 
Wherof  ye  shall  have  knouleching 
Of  thing  I  wot  that  shall  you  loth 
The  which  you  toucheth  and  me 

both.' 

And  tho  within  a  while  als  tite  2 
She  wafe  a  cloth  of  silke  all  white 
With  letters  and  ymagery, 
In  which  was  all  the  felony, 
Which  Tereus  to  her  hath  do, 
And  lapped  it  to-gider  tho 
And  set  her  signet  therupon 
And  sent  it  unto  Progne  anon. 
The  messager  which  forth  it  bare, 
What  it  amounteth  is  nought  ware, 
And  netheles  to  Progne  he  goth 
And  prively  taketh  her  the  cloth 
And  went  ayein  right  as  he  cam, 
The  Court  of  him  none  hede  name. 
"Whan    Progne  of  Philomene 

herde 

1  Wost,  knowest.        "  Als  fife,  promptly. 


She  wolde  knowe  how  that  it  ferde, 
And  openeth  that  the  man  hath 

brought 
And   wot   therby    what    hath    be 

wrought 

And  what  mischefe  there  is  befalle. 
In  swoune  tho  she  gan  down  falle, 
And  efte  arose  and  gan  to  stonde, 
And  eft  she  taketh  the  clothe  on 

honde, 

Beheld  the  letters  and  thymages, 
But  atte  last  of  suche  oultrages 
She  said,  'Weping  is  nought  the 

bote,' 1 

And  swereth,  if  that  she  live  mote 
It  shall  be  venged  other  wise. 
And  with  that  she  gan  her  avise, 
How  first  she  might  unto  her  winne 
Her  suster,  that  no  man  withinne, 
But  only  they  that  were  swore, 
It  shulde  knowe,  and  shope  ther- 

fore, 

That  Tereus  nothing  it  wist. 
And  yet  right  as  her  selven  list 
Her  suster  was  delivered  sone 
Out  of  prison,  and  by  the  mone 
To    Progne  she   was    brought  by 

night. 

Whan  eche  of  other  had  a  sight 
In  chambre  there  they  were  alone, 
They  maden  many  a  pitous  mone. 
But  Progne  most  of  sonve  made, 
Which  sigh  her  suster  pale  and  fade 
And  specheles  and  deshonoiired 
Of  that  she  haddd  be  defloured, 
And  eke  upon  her  lord  she  thought 
Of  that  he  so  untruely  wrought 
And  had  his  espousaile  broke, 
She  maketh  a  vow  it  shall  be  wroke. 
And  with  that  word  she  kneleth 

down 

Weping  in  great  devocioun, 
Unto  Cupide  and  to  Venus 
She  praid  and  saidd  thanne'  thus  : 

1  Bote,  remedy. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


287 


'  O  ye,  to  whom  no  thing  asterte l 
Of  Lovd  may,  for  every  herte 
Ye  knowe,  as  ye  that  ben  above 
The  God  and  the  Godde'sse  of  Love, 
Ye  witen  well,  that  ever  yit 
With  al  min  herte  and  all  my  wit 
I  have  ben  trewe  in  my  degre 
And  ever  thought^  for  to  be, 
And  never  love  in  other  place 
But  all  only  the  king  of  Trace 
Whiche  is  my  lord  and  I  his  wife. 
But  now  alas  this  wofull  strife, 
That  I  him  thus  ayeinward  finde 
The  most  untrewe  and  most  un- 

kinde 

That  ever  in  ladies  arme's  lay, 
And  wel  I  wot  that  he  ne  may 
Amend  his  wronge,  it  is  so  great, 
For  he  to  litel  of  me  lete 
Whan  he  min  owne*  suster  toke 
And  me  that  am  his  wife  forsoke.' 
Lo,  thus  to  Venus  and  Cupide 
She  praid,  and  furthermore  she  cride 
Unto  Apollo  the  highest 
And  said :   *  O  mighty  god  of  rest, 
Thou  do  vengeaunce  of  this  debate, 
My  suster  and  all  her  estate 
Thou  wost,  and  I  shall  bere  a  blame 
Of  that  my  suster  hath  a  shame, 
That  Tereus  to  her  I  sent. 
And  well  thou  wost,  that  min  entent 
Was  all  for  worship  and  for  good. 
O  lord,  that  yivest  the  live's  food 
To  every  wight,  I  pray  the  here 
These  wofull  susters  that  ben  here, 
And  let  us  nought  to  the  ben  loth, 
We  ben  thin  own£  women  both.' 
Thus  pleigneth  Progne  and  axeth 

wreche, 

And  though  her  suster  lacke'  speche, 
To  him  that  alld  thinges  wote 
Her  sorwe  is  nought  the  lasse'  hole. 
But  he  that  thannd  herd  hem  two 
Him  ought  have  sorwed  evermo 

1  Asttrtf,  escape. 


For  sorwe  which  was  hem  betwene. 
With  signe's  pleigneth  Philomene, 
And  Progne*  saith  :  'It  shal  be 

wreke, 

That  all  the  world  therof  shall  speke. ' 
"And    Progne    tho    sikenessd 

feigned, 

Wherof  unto  her  lord  she  pleigned 
And  preith  she  mote  her  chambre 

kepe 

And  as  her  liketh  wake  and  slepe. 
And  he  her  graunteth  to  be  so. 
And  thus  to-gider  ben  they  two, 
That  wold  him  but  a  litel  good. 
Now  herke  hereafter,  how  it  stood 
Of  wofull  auntrds  that  befelle. 
These  susters,  that  ben  bothe  felle, 
And  that  was  nought  on  hem  alonge 
But  only  on  the  greate  wronge 
Which  Tereus  hem  hadde  do, 
They  shopen  for  to  venge  hem  tho. 
This  Tereus  by  Progne  his  wife 
A  sond  hath,  which  as  his  life 
He  loveth,  and  Ithfs  he  hight. 
His  moder  wistd  well  she  might 
Do  Tereus  no  mord  greve 
Than  slee  his  child  which  was  so 

leve. 

Thus  she  that  was  as  who  saith  mad 
Of  wo  which  hath  her  overlad, 
Without  insight  of  moderhede 
Foryat  pite  and  loste  drede 
And  in  her  chambre  prive'ly 
This  childe*  without  noise  or  cry 
She  slough  and  hewe  him  all  to 

pieces. 

And  after  with  diversd  spieces 
The  flessh  whan  it  was  so  to-hewe, 
She  taketh  and  maketh   therof  a 

sewe,1 

With  which  the  fader  at  his  mete 
Was  served  till  he  had  him  etc 
That  he  ne  wist  how  that  it  stood. 
But  thus  his  owne  flessh  and  blood 

1  Sen'f,  broth,  stew. 


288 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Him  self  devoureth  ayeine  kinde, 
As  he  that  was  to-fore  unkinde. 
And  than  er  that  he  were  arise, 
For  that  he  shulde  bene  agrise 
To  shewen  him  the  child  was  dede, 
This  Philomene  toke  the  hede 
Betvvene  two  disshes,  and  all  vvrothe 
Tho  camen  forth  the  susters  bothe 
And  setten  it  upon  the  bord. 
And  Progne  than  began  the  word 
And  saide  :  t  O  werst  of  alle  wicke, 
Of  conscience  whom  no  pricke 
May  stere,  lo,  what  thou  hast  do, 
Lo,  here  ben  now  we  susters  two. 
O  raviner,  lo  here  thy  prey, 
With  whom  so  falslich  on  the  wey 
Thou  hast  thy  tirannie  wrought, 
Lo,  now  it  is  somedele  abought 
And  beter  it  shall,  for  of  thy  dede 
The  world  shall  ever  sing  and  rede 
In  remembraunce  of  thy  defame, 
For  thou  to  love  hast  done  such 

shame, 

That  it  shall  never  be  foryete.' 
With  that  he  sterte  up  fro  the  mete, 
And  shove  the  bord  into  the  flore, 
And  caught  a  swerdanone  and  swore 
That  they  shulde  of  his  hondes  deie. 
And  they  unto  the  goddes  crie 
Begunne  with  so  loude  a  steven, 
That   they  were   herde   unto   the 

heven, 

And  in  the  twinkeling  of  an  eye 
The  goddes  that  the  mischefe  sigh 
Her  forme's  chaunged  alle  thre. 
Echone  of  hem  in  his  degre 
Was  torned  into  a  briddes  kinde 
Diverse'lich  as  men  may  finde. 
After  thestate  that  they  were  inne 
Her  formes  were  set  a  twinne, 
And  as  it  telleth  in  the  tale 
The  first  i-nto  a  nightingale 
Was  shape,  and  that  was  Philomene, 
Which  in  the  winter  is  nought  sene, 
For  thanne'  ben  the  leves  falle 


And  naked  ben  the  busshes  alle. 
For  after  that  she  was  a  brid 
Her  will  was  ever  to  ben  hid 
And  for  to  dwelle  in  prive  place, 
That  no  man  shulde  sen  her  face 
For  shame  which  may  nought  ben 

lassed 

Of  thing  that  was  to-fore  passed, 
And  halt  her  clos  the  winter  day. 
But  whan  the  winter  goth  away 
And  that  nature  the  goddesse 
Woll  of  her  owne  fre  largesse 
With  herbes  and  with  floures  bothe 
The  feldes  and  the  medewes  clothe, 
And  eke  the  wodes  and  the  greves 
Ben  heled  1  all  with  grene  leves, 
So  that  a  brid  her  hide  may 
Betwene  March,  Aprille  and  May, 
She  that  the  winter2  held  her  clos 
For  pure  shame  and  nought  aros, 
Whan  that  she  sigh  the  bo  wes  thicke 
And  that  there  is  no  bare  sticke 
But  all  is  hid  with  leves  grene, 
To  wode  cometh  this  Philomene 
And  maketh  her  firste'  yeres  flight, 
Where  as  she  singeth  day  and  night, 
And  in  her  song  all  openly 
She  maketh  her  pleint  and  saith : 

'  O  why, 

O  why  ne  were  I  yet  a  maide  ? ' 
For  so  these  olde  wise  saide 
Which  understoden  what  she  ment, 
Her  notes  ben  of  suche  entent. 
And  eke  they  said,  how  in  her  songe 
She  maketh  great  joy  and  merth 

amonge 

And  saith  :  f  Ha,  now  I  am  a  brid, 
Ha,  now  my  face  may  ben  hid  ! ' 
Thus  medleth  she  with  joie  wo 
And  with  her  sorwe  merth  also, 
So  that  of  loves  maladie 
She  maketh  diverse  melodie 
And  saith  :  '  Love  is  a  wofull  blisse, 

1  Greves  .  .  heled,  groves  .  .  covered. 

2  The  winter,  during  winter. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


289 


A  wisdom,  which  can  no  manwisse, 
A  lusty  fever,  a  woundd  softe.' 
This  note*  she  reherseth  ofte 
To  hem  which  understonde  her  tale. 

"  Now  have  I  of  this  nightingale, 
Which  erst  was  clepe'd  Philomene, 
Told  all  that  ever  wolde*  mene 
Both  of  her  forme  and  of  her  note, 
Wherof  men  may  the  story  note. 
And  of  her  suster  Progne  I  finde, 
How  she  was  torneM  out  of  kinde 
Into  a  swalwe  swift  of  wing, 
Which  eke  in  winter  lith  swouning 
There  as  she  may  no  thing  be  sene, 
But  whan  the  world  is  woxe  grene 
And  comen  is  the  somer  tide, 
Than  fleeth  she  forth  and  ginneth 

to  chide 

And  chitereth  out  in  her  langdge 
What  falshede  is  in  maridge ; 
And  telleth  in  a  maner  speche 
Of  Terciis  the  spouse*  breche. 
She  wol  nought  in  the  wodes  dwelle, 
For  she  wold  openliche'  telle, 
And  eke  for  that  she  was  a  spouse, 
Among  the  folk  she  cometh  to  house 
To  do  these  wive's  understonde 
The  falshode  of  her  husebonde, 
That  they  of  hem  beware  also, 
For  there  be  many  untrewe  of  tho. 

"Thus  ben  the  susters  briddes 

both 

And  ben  toward  the  men  so  loth, 
That  they  ne  woll  for  pure  shame 
Unto  no  manne's  hond  be  tame, 
For  ever  it  dwelleth  in  her  minde 
Of  that  they  found  a  man  unkinde, 
And  that  was  false*  Tereus. 
If  suchd  one  be  amonge  us 
I  not,  but  his  condition 
Men  say  in  every  region 
Withinne*  town  and  eke  without 
Now  regneth  comunlich  about. 
And  nethe*les  in  remembraunce 
I  woll  declare  what  vengeaiince 


The  godde*s  hadden  him  ordeigned, 
Of  that  the  sustershaddenpleigned. 
For  anone  after  he  was  chaunged 
And  from  his  owne*  kinde*straunged, 
A  lappdwinke*  made  he  was 
And  thus  he  hoppeth  on  the  gras, 
And  on  his  heed  there  stont  upright 
A  crest  in  token  of  a  knight, 
And  yet  unto  this  day,  men  saith, 
A  lappdwinke  hath  lost  his  feith 
And  is  the  brid  falsest  of  alle. 

"  Beware,  my  sone,  er  the  so  falle, 
For  if  thou  be  of  such  covine 
To  get  of  love*  by  ravine 
Thy  lust,  it  may  the  falle*  thus, 
As  it  befell  of  Tereus."— 

"  My  fader,  nay,  Goddes  forbode, 
Me  were*  lever  be  fortrode, 
With  wilde  hors  and  be  to-drawe, 
Er  I  ayein  love  and  his  lawe 
Did  any  thing,  or  loude  or  still. 
Which  were*  nought  my  ladies  will. 
Men  saien   that  every  love  hath 

drede, 

So  folweth  it  that  I  her  drede, 
For    I    her    love,    and    who    so 

dredeth, — 
To  plese  his  love  and  serve,  him 

nedeth. 

Thus  may  ye  knowen  by  this  skill, 
That  no  Ravine  done  I  will 
Ayein  her  will  by  such  a  wey. 
But  while  I  live  I  will  obey, 
Abiding  on  her  courtesie 
If  any  mercy  wolde  her  plie.1 

"  Forthy  my  fader,  as  of  this 
I  wot  nought  I  have  do  amis. 
But  furthermore  I  you  beseche, 
Some  other  point  that  ye  me  teche, 
And  axeth  forth  if  there  be  ought, 
That  I  may  be  the  better  taught." — 

"35f)(m    §ot>cfisc    in    pouer 

estate 
Stont  with  him  self  upon  debate 

1  Plit,  bend,  turn. 

T 


290 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Through  lacke  of  his  misgovern- 

aunce, 

That  he  unto  his  sustenaunce 
Ne  can  non  other  waie  finde 
To  get  him  good,  than  as  the  blinde 
Which  seeth  nought  what  shal  after 

fall, 

That  ilke  Vice  which  men  call 
Of  Robbery  he  taketh  on  honde, 
Wherof  by  water  and  by  londe 
Of  thing  which  other  menbeswinke1 
He  get   him  cloth  and  mete  and 

drinke, 
Him  reccheth  nought  what  he  be- 

ginne 

Through  thefte  so  that  he  may  winne. 
Forthy"  to  maken  his  purchds 
He  lith  awaitend  on  the  pas, 
And  what  thing  that  he  seeth  ther 

passe 

He  taketh  his  parte  or  more  or  lasse 
If  it  be  worthy  to  be  take, 
He  can  the  packe"s  well  ransake. 
So  prively  bereth  none  about 
His  gold  that  he  ne  fint  it  out, 
Or  other  juell  what  it  be 
He  taketh  it  as  his  proprete 
In  wode"s  and  in  feldes  eke. 
Thus  Robberie  goth  to  seke 
Where  as  he  may  his  purchas  finde. 
And  right  so  in  the  same  kinde 
My  godd  sone,  as  thou  might  here, 
To  speke  of  love  in  the  matere 
And  make  a  verray  resemblance 
Right  as  a  thefe  maketh  chevesance 
And  robbeth  mennes  goodes  about 
In wodeand  felde  where  he  goth  out, 
So  be  there  of  these  lovers  some 
In  wilde*  sted^s  2  where  they  come 
And  finden  there  a  woman  able 
And  therto  place  covendble, 
Without^  leve  er  that  they  fare 
They  take  a  parte  of  that  chaffare. 

1  Beswinke,  obtain  by  labour. 

-  Stdics,  places. 


But  therof  wot  nothing  the  wife 
At  home,  which  loveth  as  her  life 
Her  lord  and  sit  all  day  wisshmg 
After  her  lordes  home  coming. 
But  whan  he  cometh  home  at  eve 
Anone  he  maketh  his  wife  beleve, 
For  she  nought  elles  shulde  knowe 
He  telleth  her,  how  his  hunt  hath 

blowe 
And  howe  his  houndes  have  well 

ronne, 

And  how  there  shone  a  mery  sonne, 
And  how  his  hawkes  flowen  wele. 
But  he  wol  telle  her  never  a  dele, 
How  he  to  love  untrewe  was 
Of  that  he  robbed  in  the  pas 
And  toke  his  lust  under  the  shawe 
Ayein  Love  and  ayein  his  lawe. 
"Which  thing,  my  sone,  I  the 

forbede, 

For  it  is  an  ungoodly  dede. 
For  who  that  taketh  by  robberie 
His  love,  he  may  nought  justitie 
His  cause,  and  so  ful  ofte  sithe1 
For  ones  that  he  hath  ben  blithe 
He  shall  ben  after  sory  thries. 
Ensamples  for  such  robberies 
I  find^  write  as  thou  shalt  here 
Accordend  unto  this  matere. 
"  §  reoe,  I)on>  mljilom  was  a 

maide 

The  fairest,  as  Ovide  saide, 
Which  was  in  hire  time  tho. 
And  she  was  of  the  chambre  also 
Of  Pallas,  which  is  the  goddesse 
And  wife  to  Marte,  of  whom  pro\v- 

esse 

Is  yove'  to  these  worthy  knightes, 
For  he  is  of  so  greate  mightes, 
That  he  goveVneth  the  bataile  • 
Withouten  him  may  nought  availe 
The  strong^  hond,  but  he  it  helpe, 
There  may    no    knight  of  armes 


1  Ofte  srf/t,  many  times.        '-'  Yelpe,  boast. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


291 


But  he  fight  under  his  banere. 
But  now  to  speke  of  my  matere 
This  faire',  fresshe',  lusty  may 1 
Alone  as  she  went  on  a  day 
Upon  the  stronde  for  to  play, 
There  came  Neptiinus  in  the  way, 
Which  hath  the  see  in  governauncc, 
And  in  his  herte'  such  plesaunce 
He  toke  whan  he  this  maiden  sigh, 
That  all  his  hert  aros  on  high. 
For  he  so  sodeinlich  unware 
Beheld  the  beautd  that  she  bare, 
And  cast  anone  within  his  hert 
That  she  him  shall  no  way  astert. 
This  maiden  which  Cornfx  by  name 
Was  hotd,  dredend  alte  shame, 
Sigh  that  she  mighte  nought  debate, 
And  well  she  wist  he  wolde  algate 
Fulfill  his  lust  of  robberie, 
Anone  began  to  wepe  and  crie 
And  said,  '  O  Pallas  noble  quene, 
Shew  now  thy  might,  and  letbesene, 
To  kepe  and  save'  min  honour ! ' 
That  word   was   nought   so    sone 

spoke, 

Whan  Pallas  shope  recoverfr 
After  the  will  and  the  desfre 
Of  hire'  which  a  maiden  was, 
And  sodeinlich  upon  this  cas 
Out  of  her  womanisshe'  kinde 
Into  a  bridde's  like  I  finde 
She  was  transformed  forth  withall, 
So  that  Neptunus  nothing  stal 
Of  such  thing  that  he  wolde  have 

stole. 

With  fethers  blacke  as  any  cole 
Out  of  his  arme's  in  a  throwe 
She  fleigh  before  his  even  a  crowe  ; 
Wrhich  was  to  her  a  more  delite 
To  kepe  her  maidenhede'  white 
Under  the  wede  of  fethers  blacke, 
In,perles  whit^  than  forsake 
That  2  no  life  may  restore  ayein. 
But  thus  Neptune  his  hert  in  vein 

1  May,  maid.        -  T/iaf,  that  which. 


Hath  upon  robberfe  set. 
The  bird  is  flowe  and  he  was  let 
The  faire'  maid  him  hath  escaped, 
Wherof  for  ever  he  was  bejaped 
And  scorne'd  of  that  he  hath  lore. 
"My  sone',  be  thou  ware  ther- 

fore, 

So  as  I  shall  the  yet  devise 
Another  tald  therupon, 
Which  fell  by  olds'  dale's  gone. 

<&ing  <£ic^a6n  upon  his  wife 
A  doughter  had,  a  goodly  life 
And  clene'  maide  of  worthy  fame, 
Calistona  whose  rightd  name 
Was  clep^d,  and  of  many  a  lorde 
She  was  besought,  but  her  accorde 
To  love  mighte  no  man  winne, 
As  she  whiche  hath  no  lust  ther- 

inne, 

But  swore  within  her  hert  and  saicle, 
That  she  woll  ever  ben  a  maide. 
Wherfore,  to  kepe  her  selfe  in  pees, 
With  suche  as  Amadriades 
Were  clep^d,  wodemaidens  tho, 
And  with  the  nimphes  eke  also 
Upon  the  spring  of  fresshe'  welles 
She  shope  to  dwelle  and  no  where 

elles. 

And  thus  came  this  Calistona 
Into  the  wode  of  Teged, 
Where  she  virginitd  benight 
Unto  Diane,  that  on  a  day 
Was  priveliche  stole  away. 
For  Jupiter  through  his  queintise 
From  her  it  toke  in  suche  a  wise, 
So  that  it  mighte  nought  be  hid. 
And  therupon  it  is  betid, 
Diane?,  whiche  it  herdd  tell, 
In  prive*  place  unto  a  welle 
With  nimphes  al  a  compaigny 
Was  come  and  in  a  ragery 
She  saide,  that  she  bathe'  wolde, 
And  bad  that  every  maiden  sholde 
With  her  all  naked  bath  also. 
And  tho  began  the  prive'  wo. 


292 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


With  shame  from  her  the  nimphes 

fled, 

Till  whanne  that  nature  her  spedde, 
That  of  a  sone*,  which  Archas 
Was  name'd,  she  delivered  was. 

And  tho  Juno,  which  was  the  wife 
Of  Jupiter,  wrothe  and  hastife 
In  purpose  for  to  do  vengeaunce, 
Came  forth  upon  this  ilk£  chaunce, 
And  to  Calistona  she  spake 
And  set  upon  her  many  a  lacke 
And  said  :  '  Ha,  now  thou  art  atake, 
That  thou  thy  werk  might  nought 

forsake. 

Ha,  thou  ungoodly  ypocrite, 
How  thou  art  greatly  for  to  wite. 
Thy  grete  beaute  shall  be  torned, 
Through  which  that  thou  hast  be 

mistorned, 

Thy  larg£  front,  thy  eyen  gray 
I  shall  hem  chaunge  in  other  way, 
And  all  the  feture  of  thy  face 
In  such  a  wise  I  shall  deface, 
That  every  man  the  shall  forbere.' 
With  that  the  likenesse  of  a  bere 
She  toke  and  was  forshape  anone. 
Within  a  time  and  therupon 
Befell,  that  with  a  bow  in  honde 
To  hunte  and  game  for  to  fonde 
Into  that  wode  goth  to  play 
Her  sone  Arena's,  and  in  his  way 
It  hapneth  that  this  bere  came. 
And  whan  that  she  good  hede  name, 
Where    that    he   stood  under  the 

bough, 
She  knewe  him  well  and  to  him 

drough, 

For  though  she  had  her  forme  lore, 
The  love  was  nought  lost  therfore 
Whichkinde  hath  set  underhis  lawe. 
Whan  she  under  the  wode  shawe 
Her  child  beheld,  she  was  so  glad 
That  she  with  both  her  arme's  sprad, 
As  though  she  were  in  woman- 

hede, 


Toward  him  come  and  toke  none 

hede 

Of  that  a  bow  he  bare  bent. 
And  he  with  that  an    arwe   hath 

hent1 

And  gan  to  teise  2  it  in  his  bowe, 
As  he,  that  can  none  other  knowe 
But  that  it  was  a  beste'  wilde. 
But  Jupiter,  which  woldd  shilde 
The  moder  and  the  sone  also, 
Ordeineth  for  hem  bothe  two 
That  they  for  ever  werd  save. 

"  But  thus,  my  sone,  thou  might 

have 

Ensample,  and  by  other  wey 
In  olde  bokes  as  I  rede, 
Such  robberie  is  for  to  drede, 
And  namelich  of  thilke  good 
Whiche  every  woman  that  is  good 
Desireth  for  to  kepe  and  holde 
As  whilom  was  by  daies  olde. 
For  if  thou  here  my  tale*  wele 
Of  that  was  tho,  thou  might  somdele 
Of  olde  ensamples  taken  hede 
How  that  the  floure  of  maidenhede 
Was  thilk£  time  holde  in  pris. 
And  so  it  was,  and  so  it  is, 
And  so  it  shall  for  ever  stonde, 
And  for  thou  shalt  it  understonde, 
Now  herken  a  tale  next  suend, 
How  maidenhede  is  to  commend. 

^)f  ^Jlctttte  among  the  gestes  olde 
I  find,  how  that  Vale'ry  tolde, 
That  what  man  tho  was  emperour 
Of  Romd  he  sholde  done  honour 
To  the  virgin,  and  in  the  wey 
Where  he  her  mete,  he  shulde  obey 
In  worship  of  virginite, 
Which  tho  was  a  great  dignitd 
Nought  onlich  of  the  women  tho, 
But  of  the  chaste  men  also 
It  was  commended  over  all. 
And  for  to  speke  in  speciall 
Touchend  of  men  ensample  I  finde. 

1  Hent,  seized.  2  Teise,  stretch. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


293 


"  Phirins,  which  was  of  mannds 

kinde 

Above  all  other  the  fairdst 
Of  Rome  and  eke  the  comelidst, 
That    well    was    hire   which    him 

might 

Beholde  and  have  of  him  a  sight. 
Thus  was  he  tempted  ofte  sore, 
But  for  he  woldd  be  no  more 
Among  the  women  so  coveited, 
The  beaute  of  his  facd  streited 
He  hath,  and  thrust  out  both  his 

eyne, 

That  alld  women  whiche  it  sein 
Than  afterwarde  of  him  ne  rough t. 
And  thus  his  maidenhedehe  bought. 

11  So  may  I  provd  wel  forthy 
Above  all  other  under  the  sky, 
Who  that  the  vertues  woldd  peise, 
Virginitd  is  for  to  preise, 
Which  as  thapocalips  recordeth 
To  Criste  in  heven  best  accordeth. 
So  may  it  shewd  well  therfore 
As  I  have  tolde  it  here  to -fore, 
In  heven  and  eke  in  erth  also 
It  is  accept  to  bothd  two. 
Out  of  his  flesshe  a  man  to  live 
Gregoire  hath  this  ensample  yive 
And  saith :   It  shall  rather  be  told l 
Lich  to  an  aungel  manyfold 
Than  to  the  life  of  mannes  kinde  ; 
There  is  no  reson  for  to  finde, 
But  only  through  the  grace  above, 
In  flesshd  without  flesshly  love 
A  man  to  livd  chaste  here. 
And  nethdles  a  man  may  here 
Of  suchd  that  have  ben  er  this, 
And  yet  there  ben,  but  for  it  is 
A  vertue  which  is  seldd  wonne, 
Now  I  this  matter  have  begonne 
I  thenke  tellen  over  more, 
Which  is,  my  sond,  for  thy  lore, 
If  that  the  list  to  taken  hede, 
To  trete  upon  the  maidenhede. 

l  ToUt,  accounted. 


"  The  boke  saith  that  a  mannds 

life 

Uponknighthodein  werre  and  strife 
Is  set  among  his  enemies. 
The  freild  flessh,  whose  nature  is 
Ay  redy  for  to  sporne  and  fall, 
The  firstd  foman  is  of  all. 
For  thilkd  werre  is  redy  ay, 
It  werreth  night,  it  werreth  day, 
So  that  a  man  hath  never  rest. 
Forthy  is  thilkd  knight  the  best 
Through  might  and  grace  of  goddds 

sonde 

Which  that  bataild  may  withstonde, 
Wherof  yet  dwelleth  the  memoire 
Of  hem  that  whilome  the  victoire 
Of  thilkd  dedly  werrd  hadden, 
The  high  prowessd  which  they  lad- 
den 

Wherof  the  sould  stood  amended, 
Upon  this  erth  yet  is  commended. 
Jilt  cmpcrour  by  thilkd  daies 
There  was,  and  he  at  all  assaies 
A  worthy  knight  was  of  his  honde, 
There  was  none  such  in  all  thelonde, 
But  yet  for  all  his  vassellage  * 
He  stood  unwedded  all  his  age, 
And  in  cronique  as  it  is  tolde 
He  was  an  hundred  winter  olde. 
And  haddd  ben  a  worthy  knight 
Both  of  his  lawe  and  of  his  might. 
But  whan  men  wolde  his  knight 
hood  peise 

And  of  his  dedes  of  armds  preise 
Of  that  he  didd  with  his  hondes, 
Whan  he  the  kingds  and  the  londes 
To  his  subjection  put  under, 
Of  all  that  prise  hath  he  no  wonder, 
For  he  it  set  of  none  accompte 
And   said,    all    that    may   nought 

amounte 

Ayein  a  point  whiche  he  hath  nome, 
That  he  his  flessh  hath  overcome. 

1  Vassellaze,  valour  in  arms,  as  in  Chaucer's 
"  Knight's  Tale"  and  in  Harbour's  "Bruce." 


294 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


He  was  a  virgine,  as  he  said ; 
On  that  bataile  his  pris  he  laid. 

Lo  now,  my  sone,  avise  the." — 

"  Ye,  fader,  all  this  may  well  be. 
But  if  all  other  dide  so, 
The  world  of  men  were  sone  ago  ; l 
And  in  the  lawe  a  man  may  finde 
How  God  to  man  by  wey  of  kinde 
Hath  set  the  world  to  multiply. 
And  who  that  woll  him  justify, 
It  is  inough  to  do  the  lawe. 
And  netheles  your  gode  sawe 
Is  good  to  kepe,  who  so  may, 
I  woll  nought  there  ayein  say  nay/' 

"  "§#£  solW,  take  it  as  I  say, 
If  rnaidenhed  be  take  away 
Withoute  lawes  ordenaunce, 
It  may  nought  failen  of  vengeaunce. 

"  And  if  thou   wolt    the    sothe 

wite, 

Behold  a  tale  which  is  write, 
How  that  the  king  Agamenon 
Whan  he  the  citee  of  Lesbon 
Hath  won,  a  maiden  there  he  fonde 
Which  was  the  fairest  of  the  londe 
In  thilke  time  that  men  wist. 
He  toke  of  hire  what  him  list 
Of  thing  which  was  most  precious, 
Wherof  that  she  was  <laungerous. 
This  faire  maiden  cleped  is 
Criseid,  the  doughter  of  Crisis, 
Which  was  that  time  special! 
Of  thilke  temple  principal! 
Where  Phebus  had  his  sacrifice, 
So  was  it  well  the  more  vice. 
Agdmenon  was  than  in  way 
To  Troie  ward  and  toke  awey 
This  maiden,  whiche  he  with  him 

lad, 
So  greate  lust  in  her  he  had. 

But   Phebus   which  hath  great 

disdein 

Of  that  his  maiden  was  forlein, 
Anone  as  he  to  Troie  came, 

1  -Ago,  gone. 


Vengeaunce    upon    this    decle    he 

name1 

And  send  a  comune  pestilence. 
They  soughten  than  her  evidence 
And  maden  calculacion, 
To  knowe  in  what  condicion 
This  deth  cam  in  so  sodeinly, 
And  atte  laste  redely 
The  cause  and  eke  the  man  they 

founde, 

And  forth  withal  the  same  stounde 
Agamenon  opposed  was, 
Whiche  hath  beknowen  all  the  cas 
Of  the  folie,  which  he  wrought. 
And  therupon  mercy  they  sought 
Toward  the  god  in  sondry  wise 
With  praier  and  with  sacrifice ; 
The  maiden  home  ayein  they  sende 
And  yaf  her  good  inough  to  spende 
For  ever  while  she  shulde  live, 
And  thus  the  sinne  was  foryive 
And  all  the  pestilence  cesed. 

"  Lo,  what  it  is  to  ben  encrescd 
Of  love  whiche  is  evil  wonne. 
It  were  better  nought  begonne 
Than  take  a  thing  withoute  leve 
Which  thou  must  after  nedes  leve 
And  yet  have  malgre  forth  with  all. 
Forthy  to  robben  over  all 
In  loves  cause  if  thou  beginne, 
I  not  what  ese  thou  shalt  winne. 
My  sone,  be  well  ware  of  this, 
For  thus  of  robbery  it  is." — 

"  My  fader,  your  ensamplarie 
In  loves  cause  of  robberie 
I  have  it  right  well  understonde. 
But  over  this  how  so  it  stonde, 
Yet  wol  I  wite  of  your  apprise, 
What  thing  is  more  of  Covetise. 

^ift)  Qovetist  yet  I  finde 
A  servaunt  of  the  samd  kinde, 
Which  Stelth  is  hote,  and  micherie2 
With  him  is  ever  in  compaignie. 
Of  whom  if  I  shall  telle  soth 


1  Name,  took. 


-  Micherie,  secrecy. 


BOOK  F.— AVARICE. 


295 


He  stalketh  as  a  pecock  doth 
And  taketh  his  prei^  so  covdrte, 
That  no  man  wote  it  in  apdrte. 
For  whan  he  wot  the  lord  from  home 
Than  woll  he  stalke  about  and  come, 
And  what  thing  he  fint  in  his  wey 
Whan  that  he  seeth  the  men  awey 
He  steleth  it  and  goth  forth  vvithall 
That  therof  no  man  knowe  shall. 
And  eke  full  ofte  he  goth  anight 
Withoute  mone  or  sterre  light 
And  with  his  craft  the  doreunpiketh 
And  taketh  therinne  what  himliketh. 
And  if  the  dore  be  so  shet, 
That  he  be  of  his  entre  let, 
He  woll  in  atte  window  crepe, 
And  while  the  lord  is  fast  aslepe, 
He  steleth  what  thing  him  best  list, 
And  goth  his  wey  or  it  be  wist. 
Full  ofte  also  by  light  of  day 
Yet  woll  he  stele  and  make  assay, 
Under  the  cote  his  horide  he  put 
Till  he  the  mannes  purs  have  kut 
And  rifleth  that  he  fint  therinne. 
And  thus  he  auntreth  him  to  winne 
And  bereth  an  horn  and  nought  ne 

bloweth 

For  no  man  of  his  counseil  knoweth 
What  he  may  get  of  his  miching, 
It  is  all  bile  l  under  the  wing. 
And  as  an  hound  that  goth  to  folde 
And  hath  there  take  what  he  wolde 
His  mouth  upon  the  gras  he  wipeth, 
And  so   with  feign<5d  chere  him 

slipeth, 
That  what  as   ever  of  shepe  he 

strangle 

There  is  no  man  therof  shall  jangle 
And  for  to  knowen  who  it  dede; 
Right  so  doth  stelthe  in  every  stede, 
Where  as  him  list  his  preid  take. 
He  can  so  well  his  caus£  make 
And  so  well  feigne  and  so  well  glose 
That  there  ne  shall  no  man  suppose 
l  Bile,  bill. 


But  that  he  were  an  innocent, 
And  thus  a  mannes  eye  he  blent. 
So  that  this  crafte  I  may  remeve l 
Withouten  helpe  of  any  meve. 
There  be  lovers  of  that  degre, 
Which  all  her  lust  in  privete* 
As  who  saith  getten  all  by  Stelth 
And  ofte  atteignen  to  great  welth 
As  for  the  time  that  it  lasteth. 
For  love  awaiteth  ever  and  casteth 
How  he  may  stele  and  cacche  his 

pray 

Whan  he  therto  may  finde  a  way. 
For  be  it  night,  or  be  it  day 
Hetaketh  his  part,  whan  that  he  may, 
And  if  he  may  no  more  do 
Yet  woll  he  stele  a  cuss  2  or  two. 

"My  sone*,  what  saist  thou therto, 
Telle,  if  thou  diddest  ever  so." — 
"My  fader,  how?"— "My  sone, 

thus, 

If  thou  hast  stolen  any  cuss 
Or  other  thingwhich  therto longeth, 
For  no  man  suche  theves  hongeth  ; 
Tell  onforthyand  say  thetrouth." — 

"  My  fader,   nay ;  and  that  is 

routh, 

For  by  my  will  I  am  a  thefe, 
But  she  that  is  to  me  most  lefe, 
Yet  durst  I  never  in  privete' 
Nought  one's  take  her  by  the  kne 
To  stele  of  her  or  this  or  that, 
And  if  I  durst  I  wot  well  what. 
And  nethe'les  but  if  I  lie 
By  stelthe'  ne  by  robberie 
Of  love*,  which  fell  in  my  thought, 
To  hire  did  I  never  nought ; 
But  as  men  sain,  where  hert  is  failed 
There  shall  no  castel  be  assailed. 
But  though  I  haddd  hertes  ten 
And  were  as  stronge  as  alle*  men, 
If  I  be  nought  min  ownd  man 
And  dare  nought  usen  that  I  can. 

l  Rftiici'e,  change  to  another  field  of  enter 
prise  ;  from  Money  to  Love. 
-  Cuss,  kiss. 


296 


CONFESS  10  A  MANTIS. 


I  may  my  selve  nought  recouer 
Though  I  be  never  man  so  pouer. 
I  here  an  herte  and  here  it  is, 
So  that  me  faileth  wit  in  this 
How  that  I  shulde  of  mine  accorde 
The  servant  lede  ayein  the  lorde. 
For  if  my  foot  wold  owhere  go, 
Or  that  min  hond  wolde  die's  do, 
Whan  that  min  hert  is  there  ayein 
The  remenaunt  is  all  in  vein. 
And  thus  me  lacketh  alle  wele, 
And  yet  ne  dare  I  nothing  stele 
Of  thing  which  longeth  unto  love, 
And  eke  it  is  so  high  above 
I  may  nought  well  therto  arecche, 
But  if  so  be  at  time  of  speche 
Full  selde  if  than  I  stele  may 
A  worde  or  two  and  go  my  way. 
Betwene  her  high  estate  and  me 
Comparison  there  may  none  be, 
So  that  I  fele  and  well  I  wote 
All  is  to  hevy  and  to  hote 
To  set  on  honde"  without  leve. 
And  thus  I  mot  algate  leve 
To  stele  that  I  may  nought  take, 
And  in  this  wise  I  mot  forsake 
To  ben  a  thefe  ayein  my  will 
Of  thing  which  I  may  nought  fulfill. 
"  For  that  serpent  which  never 

slept 

The  flees  of  gold  so  well  ne  kept 
In  Colchos,  as  the  tale  is  tolde, 
As  my  lady  a  thousand  folde 
To  kepe  her  body  night  and  day. 
She  hath  a  wardein  redy  ay, 
Which  is  so  wounderfull  a  wight, 
That  him  ne  may  no  mannes  might 
With  swerd  ne  with  no  wepon  daunt, 
Ne  with  no  sleight  of  charme  en- 

chaunt 

Wherof  he  might  be  made  tame, 
And  Daunger  is  his  righte  name, 
Whiche  under  lock  an'd  under  key, 
That  no  man  may  it  stele  awey, 
Hath  al  the  tresor  underfonge 


That  unto  love  may  belonge. 
The  leste  loking  of  her  eye 
May  nought  be  stole,  if  he  it  sigh  ; 
And  who  so  gruccheth  for  so  lite 
He  wolde  sone  set  a  wite 
On  him  that  wolde  stele  more. 
And  that  me  greveth  wonder  sore, 
For  this  proverb  is  ever  newe, 
That  strongd  lockes  inaken  trewe 
Of  hem  that  wolden  stele  and  pike. 
For  so  wel  can  there  no  man  slike  1 
By  him  ne  by  no  other  mene, 
To  whom  Daunger  wol  yive  or  lene 
Of  that  tresdr  he  hath  to  kepe. 
So  though  I  wolde  stalke  and  crepe 
And  waiteon  eve  and  eke  on  morwe, 
Of  Daunger  shal  I  nothing  borne, 
And  stele  wot  wel  may  I  nought. 
And  thus  I  am  right  wel  bethought, 
While  Daunger  stont  in  his  office, 
Of  Stelthe,  which  ye  clepe  a  Vice, 
I  shall  be  gilty  never  mo. 
Therfore  I  wold  he  were  ago 
So  fer  that  I  never  of  him  herde 
How  so  that  afterward  it  ferde, 
For  than  I  mighte  yet  par  cas 
Of  love  make*  some  purchas 
By  stelth  or  by  some  other  way, 
That  now  fro  me  stont  fer  away. 
"  But,  fader,  as  ye  tolde  above, 
How  Stelthe"  goth  anight  for  love, 
I  may  nought  wel  that  point  forsake, 
That  ofte'  times  I  ne  wake 
On  nighte's  whan  that  other  slepe. 
But  now,  I  pray  you  take  kepe, 
Whan  I  am  logged  in  such  wise 
That  I  by  nighte  may  arise 
At  some  winddvv  and  loken  out 
And  se  the  housing  al  about, 
So  that  I  may  the  chambre  knowe 
In  which  my  lady,  as  I  trowe, 
Lith  in  her  bed  and  slepeth  softe, 
Than  is  min  hert  a  thefe  ful  ofte, 
For  there  I  stonde  to  behold 

1  Smooth  the  way. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


297 


The  longd  nightes  that  ben  cold 
And  thenke  on  her  that  lieth  there. 
But  atte*  last^  whan  I  finde 
That  I  am  fall  into  my  minde, 
And  se  that  I  have  stond^  longe 
And  have  no  profit  underfonge, 
Than  stalke  I  to  my  bed  withinne. 
And  this  is  all  that  ever  I  winne 
Of  love,  whan  I  walke  on  night. 
My  will  is  good,  but  of  my  might 
Me  lacketh  both  and  of  my  grace, 
For  what  so  that  my  thought  em 
brace 

Yet  have  I  nought  the  better  ferde. 
My  fader,  lo,  now  have  ye  herde 
What  I  by  Stelth  of  Love  have  do, 
And  how  my  will  hath  be  therto ; 
If  I  be  worthy  to  penaunce, 
I  put  it  to  your  ordenaunce." — 

"  My  sone,  of  stelth  !  the  behete, 
Though  it  be  for  a  time  swete, 
At  ende  it  doth  but  litel  good, 
As  by  ensample  how  that  it  stood 
Whilom,  I  may  the  telle*  now." — 

"  I    pray   you,    fader,    say   me 
how."— 

"  My  sone,  of  him,  which  goth 

by  day 

By  wey  of  stelthe  to  assay 
In  loves  cause  and  taketh  his  pray, 
Ovfde'  said,  as  I  shall  say, 
And  in  his  Methamor  he  tolde 
A  tale'  which  is  good  to  holde. 

Qfye  poet  upon  this  matere 
Of  Stelthe  wrote  in  this  manere. 
Venus,  which  hath  the  lawe  inhonde 
Of  thing  which  may  nought  be  with- 

stonde, 

As  she  which  the  tresor  to  warde 
Of  love  hath  within  her  wnrde, 
Phebus  to  love  hath  soconstreigned 
That  he  without^  rest  is  peined 
With  all  his  hertd  to  coveite 
A  maiden  which  was  warded  streite 
Withinne  chambre  and  kept  so  clos 


That  selden  was  whan  she  desclos 
Goth  with  her  moder  for  to  play. 
Leucothoe,  so  as  men  say, 
This  maiden  hight,  and  Orchamus 
Her  fader  was.     And  befell  thus, 
This  doughter  that  was  kept  so  dere 
And  haddd  be  from  yere  to  yere, 
Upon  the  whose  nativitd 
Of  comeliheed  and  of  beauts' 
Nature  hath  set  all  that  she  may, 
That  lich  unto  the  fresshe'  May, 
Whiche  other  monthes  of  the  yere 
Sourmounteth,  so  without^  pere 
Was  of  this  maiden  the  feture, 
Wherof  Phebus  out  of  mesure 
Her  loveth  and  on  every  side 
Avvaiteth  what  so  may  betide. 
In  his  await  so  longe  he  lay 
Till  it  befell  upon  a  day 
That  he  through  out  her  chambre 

wall 

Came  in  all  sodeinlich  and  stall 
That  thing  which  was  to  him  so 

lefe. 

But  wo  the  while,  he  was  a  thefe, 
For  Venus,  which  was  enemy 
Of  thilke'  love's  michery, 
Descovereth  all  the  pleine*  cas 
To  Climene',  which  thanne'  was 
Toward  Phebus  his  concubine. 
And  she,  to  lettd  the  covine 
Of  thilkd  lovd,  dedely  wrothe, 
To  pleign  upon  this  maide  she  goth 
And  tolde  her  fader  howe  it  stood, 
Wherof  for  sorwe  well  nigh  wode 
Unto  her  moder  thus  he  saide  : 
*  Lo,  what  it  is  to  kepe  a  maide. 
To  Phebus  dare  I  nothing  speke 
But  upon  her  it  shall  be  wreke.' 
And  bad  with  that  do  make  a  pit, 
Wherin  he  hath  his  doughter  set, 
As  he  that  woll  no  pite  have, 
So  that  she  was  all  quike  begrave 
And  deide  anone  in  his  presence. 
But  Phebus,  for  the  reverence 


298 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  that  she  hadde  be  his  love, 
Hath  wrought  through  his  power 

above 

That  she  sprong  up  out  of  the  molde 
Into  a  flour,  was  named  Golde, 
Which  stant  governed  of  the  sonne. 
And  thus  whan  love  is  evil  wonne, 
Full  ofte  it  cometh  to  repentail." — 

"  My  fader,  that  is  no  merveile, 
Whan  that  the  counceil  is  bewreied. 
For  in  your  tale  as  it  betid, 
Venus  descovereth  all  the  cas, 
And  eke  also  brode  day  it  was 
Whan     Phebus     such     a     stelthe 

wrought, 
Wherof  the    maide    in  blame  he 

brought, 

That  afterwards  he  was  so  lore. 
But  for  ye  saiden  now  to-fore, 
How  Steith  of  Love  goth  by  night 
And  doth  his  thinges  out  of  sight, 
Therof  me  lust  also  to  here 
A  tale  lich  to  the  matere, 
Wherof  I  might  ensample  take." 

"  My  gode  sond,  for  thy  sake, 
So  as  it  befell  by  daies  olde 
And  so  as  the  poet  it  tolde, 
Upon  the  nightes  michery 
Now  herken  a  tale  of  poesy. 

'Qfye  mightiest  of  alle  men, 
Whan  Hercules  with  Eolen, 
Which  was  the  love  of  his  corage, 
To-gider  upon  a  pelrinage 
Towarde  Rome  shulden  go, 
It  fell  hem  by  the  waie  so, 
That  they  upon  a  day  a  cave 
Within  a  roche  founden  have, 
Which  was  real  and  glorious 
And  of  entaile  curious, 
By  name  and  Thophis  it  was  note. 
The  sonne  shone  tho  wonder  hote, 
As  it  was  in  the  somer  tide. 

"This  Hercules,  which  by  his  side 
Hath  Eolen  his  love  there, 
Whan  they  at  thilke  cave  were, 


He  said,  he  thought  it  for  the  best, 
That  she  her  for  the  hete  rest 
All  thilke  day.     And  so  befell, 
This  cave  was  under  the  hill 
Of  Timolus,  which  was  begrowe 
With  vines,  and  at  thilke  throwe 
Faunus  with  Saba  the  goddesse, 
By  whom  the  large  wildernesse 
In  thilke  time  stood  governed, 
Were  in  a  place,  as  I  am  lerned, 
Nigh  by,  which  Bachuswode  hight. 
"This  Faunus  toke  a  great  insight 
Of  Eolen,  that  was  so  nigh, 
For  whan  that  he  her  beaute  sigh, 
Out  of  his  wit  he  was  assoted 
And  in  his  herte  it  hath  so  noted, 
That  he  forsoke  the  nimphes  alle 
And  said,  he  wolde,  how  so  it  falle, 
Assay  an  other  for  to  winne, 
He  set  his  hertes  thought  withinrie, 
And  therupon  his  time  awaiteth. 
Now  take  good  hede,   how   love 

affaiteth 

Him  which  withal  is  overcome. 
Faire  Eolen  whan  she  was  come 
With  Hercules  into  the  cave, 
She  said  him,  that  she  wolde  have 
His  clothes  of  and  hire  bothe, 
Andecheof  hem  shulde  other  clothe. 
And  all  was  do  right  as  she  bad, 
He  hath  her  in  his  clothes  clad 
And  cast  on  her  his  gulion, 
Which  of  the  skin  of  a  leon 
Was  made,  as  he  upon  the  wey 
It  slough,  and  over  this  to  pley 
She  toke  his  grete  mace  also 
And  knet  it  at  her  girdel  tho. 
So  was  she  lich  the  man  arraied, 
And  Hercules  than  hath  assaied 
To  clothen  him  in  her  array. 
And  thus  they  jape  forth  the  day, 
Till  that  her  souper  redy  were. 
And  whan  they  hadden  souped  there, 
They  shopen  hem  to  go  to  rest, 
And  as  it  thought  hem  for  the  best, 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


299 


They  bad,  as  for  that  ilkc  night, 
Two  sondry  beddes  shuld  be  dight, 
Wherin  that  they  to  reste  gone 
Eche  by  hem  self  in  sondry  place. 
Fair  Eolen  hath  set  the  mace 
Besides  her  beddes  heved  above, 
And  with  the  clothds  of  her  love 
She  helled l  all  her  bed  aboute. 
And   he,    which   had   nothing    in 

double, 

Her  wimpel  wonde  about  his  cheke, 
Her  kirtel  and  her  mantel  eke 
Abrode  upon  his  bed  he  spredde, 
And  thus  they  slepen  both  a  bedde. 
And  what  of  travail,  what  of  wine 
The  servaunts  like  to  dronken  swine 
Beganne  for  to  route  '2  faste. 
This  Faunus,  whichhisstelthe'  caste, 
Was  thannd  comen  to  the  cave 
And  found,  they  weren  alle  save; 
Withoute  noise  and  in  he  went, 
The  derke  night  his  sighte  blent, 
And  yet  it  hapned  him  to  go 
Where  Eolen  a  bedde  tho 
Was  laid  alone  for  to  slepe. 
But  for  he  wolde  take  kepe 
Whose  bed  it  was,  he  made  assay 
And  of  a  Icon  where  it  lay 
The  cote  hefounde  and  eke  hefeleth 
The  mace,  and  than  hisherte'keleth, 
That  there  durst  he  nought  abide ; 
But  stalketh  upon  every  side 
And  sought  aboutd  with  his  honde 
That  other  bed,  till  that  lie  fonde 
Where  lay  bewimpled  a  visdge. 
Tho  was  he  glad  in  his  cordge, 
For  he  her  kirtel  founde  also 
And  eke  her  mantel  bothe  two 
Bespred  upon  the  bedde  alofte, 
And  wende  well  it  were'  she. 
And  thus  in  stede  of  Eote 
Anone  he  profreth  him  to  love, 
13 ut  he,  which  sigh  a  man  above, 
This  Hercules  him  threw  to  grounde 

)  covered.  -  Routt,  snore. 


So  sore',  that  they  have  him  founde 
Liggende'  there  upon  the  morwe, 
And  tho  was  nought  a  litel  sorwe 
That  Faunus  of  him  selvd  made. 
But  die's  there  they  were  all  glade 
And  loughen  him  to  scorne  aboute, 
Saba  with  nimphes  all  a  route 
Came  down  to  loke  how  that  it  ferde, 
And  whan  that  they  the  sothd  herde 
He  was  bejaped  over  all. 

"  My  sone,  be  thou  ware  with  all 
In  aunter  if  the  so  betide 
As  Faunus  dide  thilke'  tide, 
Wherof  thou  might  be  shamed  so. " — 

"  Min  holy  fader,  certes  no. 
But  if  I  hadde  right  good  leve, 
Such  micherie  I  thenke  leve. 
My  fainte  herte  woll  nought  serve, 
For  malgre'  wolde  I  nought  deserve 
In  thilke'  place  where  I  love. 
But  for  ye  tolden  here  above 
Of  Covetise  and  his  pilage, 
If  there  be  more  of  that  lignage, 
Which  toucheth  to  my  shrifte,   I 

pray, 

That  ye  therof  me  wolde  say, 
So  that  I  may  the  Vice  escheue." — 

"  My  sone,  if  I  by  order  sue 
The  Vices  as  they  stonde  a  rowe, 
Of  Covetise  thou  shalt  knowe, 
There  is  yet  one,  which  is  the  last, 
In  whom  there  may  no  Vertue  last, 
For  he  with  God  him  self  debatcth, 
Wherof  that   all   the   heven    him 
hateth. 

^^C  f)iflf)<?  $0&,  whiche  alle  good 
Purveie'd  hath  for  manne's  food 
Of  clothe's  and  of  mete  and  drinke, 
Bade  Adam,  that  he  shulde  swinke 
To  geten  him  his  sustenaunce, 
And  eke  he  set  an  ordenaunce 
Upon  the  lawe  of  Moi'ses, 
That  though  a  man  be  have'les, 
Yet  shall  he  nought  by  thefte  stele. 
But  now  a  dale's  there  ben  fele, 


300 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  woll  no  labour  undertake  ; 
But  what  they  may  by  stelthe  take 
They  holde  it  sikerliche  wonne. 
And  thus  the  lawe  is  overronne, 
Which  God  hath  set,  and  namely 
With  hem  that  so  untruely 
The  goodes  robbe  of  Holy  Chirche. 
The    thefte,    which    they    thanne 

wirche, 

By  name  is  cleped  Sacrilegge, 
Ayein  the  whom  I  thenke  allegge. 
Upon  three  points  as  we  ben  taught 
Stont  Sacrilege,  and  elles  nought. 
The  firstd  point  is  for  to  say, 
Whan  that  a  thefe  shall  stele  away 
The  holy  thing  from  holy  place. 
The  seconde  is,  if  he  purchd.ce 
By  way  of  theft  an  holy  thinge 
The  whiche  upon  his  knowlechinge 
Fro  holy  place  away  was  toke. 
The  thirde  point,  as  saith  the  boke, 
Is  suche,  as  whereas  ever  it  be, 
In  wode,  in  felde,  or  in  cite, 
Shall  no  man  stele  by  no  wise 
That  halowed  is  to  the  servise 
Of  God  whiche  alle*  thinges  wote. 
But  there  is  nouther  cold  ne  hote, 
Whiche  he  for  God  or  man  woll 

spare, 

So  that  the  body  may  wel  fare 
And  that  he  may  the  world  escape, 
The  hevenhimthinketh  is  but  a  jape 
Of  his  condition  to  telle, 
Which  rifelethbotheboke  and  belle, 
So  forthwith  all  the  remenaunt 
To  Goddes  hous  appurtenaunt, 
Where  that  he  shulde  bid  his  bede, 
He  doth  his  theft  in  holy  stede, 
And taketh  what  thing  hefint  therin. 
For  whan  he  seeth  that  he  may  win 
He  wondeth  for  no  cursednesse 
That  he  ne  breketh  the  holinesse 
And  doth  to  God  no  reverence. 
For  he  hath  lost  his  conscience, 
That  though  the  presttherfore  curse, 


He   saith,   he    fareth    nought    the 

worse. 

And  for  to  speke  it  other  wise, 
What  man  that  lasseth  the  fraun- 

chise 

And  taketh  of  Holy  Chirch  his  pray, 
I  not  what  bedds  he  shall  pray 
Whan  he  fro  God  which  hath  yive  all 
The  purpartie  in  speciall, 
Which  unto  Crist  him  self  is  due, 
Benimth;  he  may  nought  wel  eschue 
The  peine  comend  afterward, 
For  he  hath  made  his  foreward 
With  sacrilegge  for  to  dwelle, 
Which  hath  his  heritage  in  helle. 

"  And  if  we  rede  of  tholde  lawe, 
I  finde  write  in  thilke  lawe, 
Of  princes  how  there  weren  thre 
Coupdble  sore  in  this  degre. 
That  one  of  hem  was  cleped  thus 
The  proude*  king  Antiochus  ; 
That  other  Nabuzardan  hight, 
Which  of  his  crueltd  benight 
The  temple  to  destruie  and  waste, 
And  so  he  did  in  alle  haste ; 
The    thridde,    which    was     afier 

shamed, 

Was  Nabugodondsor  named, 
And  he  Jerusalem  put  under 
Of  sacrilegge  and  many  a  wonder 
There  in  the  holy  temple  he  wrought, 
Which  Baltazdr  his  heire  abought, 
Whan  Mane  Techel  Phares  write 
Was  on  the  wall,  as  thou  might  wite 
So  as  the  bible  it  hath  declared. 
But  for  al  that  it  is  nought  spared 
Yet  now  a  day  that  men  ne  pille 
And  maken  argument  and  skille 
To  sacrilegge  as  it  belongeth, 
For   what   man   that   there   after 

longeth 

He  taketh  none  hede  what  he  doth. 
And  if  a  man  shall  telle  soth, 
Of  guile  and  of  subtilite 
Is  none  so  sligh  in  his  degre 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


301 


To  feigne  a  thing  for  his  beyete 
As  is  this  Vice  of  whiche  I  trete. 
He  can  so  priveliche*  pike, 
He  can  so  well  his  worde's  slike 
To  pat  away  suspici6n, 
That  in  his  excusation 
There  shall  no  man  defaltd  finde. 
And  thus  full  oftd  men  be  blinde, 
That  stonden  in  his  word  deceived, 
Er  his  queintfse'  be  perceived. 
But  netheles  yet  other  while 
For  all  his  sleight  and  all  his  guile 
Of  that  hewolde  hbwerke  forsake,1 
He  is  atteint  and  overtake. 
Wherof  thou  shake  a  tale*  rede, 
In  Rome  as  it  befell  in  dede. 

gr  gtome  cam  to  the  creaunce 
Of  Cristes  feith,  it  fell  perchaunce, 
Cesdr,  which  tho  was  emperour. 
Him  liste  for  to  done  honour 
Unto  the  temple  Apollinis, 
And  made  an  ymage  upon  this, 
The  which  was  cleped  Apollo, 
Was  none  so  riche  in  Rome'  tho  2 
Of  plate  of  golde  a  berde  he  hadde, 
The  which  his  brest  all  over  spradde 
Of  golde  also  without^  faile 
His  mantell  was  of  large  entaile 
Beset  with  perrie  3  all  about, 
Forth  right  he  straught  his  finger 

out 

Upon  the  which  he  had  a  ringe, 
To  seen  it  was  a  riche'  thing 
A  fine  carbuncle  for  the  nones 
Most  precious  of  alle  stones. 

"  And  fell  that  time  in  Rome*  thus 
There  was  a  clerke  one  Lucius, 
A  courteour,  a  famous  man, 
Of  every  wit  somwhat  he  can, 
Out  takd  that  him  lacketh  reule 
His  owne  estat  to  guide  and  reule. 
How  so  it  stood  of  his  spekmg, 
He  was  nought  wise  in  his  dofng. 

1  Forsake,  deny.  -  Tho,  then. 

3  Perrie,  precious  stones. 


But  every  riote  atte*  last 

Mot  nedds  falle,  and  may  nought 

laste. 

After  the  mede  of  his  deserte 
So  fell  this  clerke  into  pouerte 
And  wistd  nought  how  for  to  rise, 
Wherof  in  many  a  sondry  wise 
He  cast  his  wine's  here  and  ther, 
He  loketh  nigh,  he  loketh  fer, 
Till  on  a  time  that  he  come 
Into  the  temple,  and  hede  he  nome 
Where  that  the  god  Apollo  stood, 
He  sigh  the  richesse  and  the  good 
And  thought  he  wolde*  by  some  way 
The  tresor  picke  and  stele  away ; 
And  therupon  so  sleighly  wrought 
That  his  purp6se  about  he  brought, 
And  went  awey  undpperceived. 
Thus  hath  the  man  his  god  deceived; 
His  ring,  his  mantel  and  his  berd, 
As  he  which  nothing  was  aferd, 
All  prive'ly  with  him  he  bare. 
And  whan  the  wardeins  weren  ware 
Of  that  her  god  despuile'd  was, 
Hem  thought  it  was  a  wonder  cas 
How  that  a  man  for  any  wele 
Durst  in  so  holy  place  stele, 
And  name'ly  so  great  a  thing. 
This  tale*  came  unto  the  king, 
And  was  through  spoken  over  all. 
But  for  to  knowe  in  speciall, 
What  maner  man  hath  do  the  dede, 
They   soughten    helpe    upon    the 

nede 

And  maden  calculation, 
Wherof  by  demonstration 
The  man  was  foundd  with  the  good ; 
In  juge'ment  and  whan  he  stood, 
The  king  hath  axed  of  him  thus  : 
'  Say  thou,  unsely  Lucius, 
Why    hast    thou    don    this    sacri- 

legge?'— 

*  My  lord,  if  I  the  cause  allegge, 
Quod  he  ayein,  me  thenketh  this, 
That  I  have  do  nothing  amis. 


302 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


Thre  points  ther  ben,  which  I  have 

do: 

Wherof  the  firste  point  stant  so, 
That  I  the  ring  have  take  away  • 
As  unto  that,  this  woll  I  say, 
Whan  I  the  god  behelde  about, 
I  sigh  how  he  his  hond  straught  out 
And  profred  me  the  ring  to  yive. 
And  I,  which  wolde  gladly  live 
Out  of  pouerte,  through  his  largesse 
It  underfang,  so  that  I  gesse 
As  therof  I  am  nought  to  \vite.1 
And  overmore  I  woll  me  quite 
Of  gold  that  I  the  mantel  toke  ; 
Gold  in  his  kind,  as  saith  the  boke, 
Is  hevy  both  and  colde  also. 
And  for  that  it  was  hevy  so, 
Me  thought  it  was  no  garnement 
Unto  the  god  convenient 
To  clothen  him  the  somer  tide. 
I  thought,  upon  that  other  side, 
Howgold  is  colde,  and  such  a  clothe 
By  reson  oughte  to  be  lothe 
In  winter  time  for  the  chele. 
And  thus  thenkende'  thoughte's  fele 
As  I  min  eie  aboute'  cast, 
His  large  berd  than  atte  last 
I  sigh,  and  thought  anone  therfore, 
How  that  his  fader  him  before 
Which  stood  upon  the  same  place, 
Was  berdles  with  a  yongly  face. 
And  in  such  wise,  as  ye  have  herde, 
I  toke  away  the  sone's  berde 
For  that  his  fader  hadde'  none 
To  make  hem  liche,  and  hereupon 
I  axe  for  to  ben  excused.' 

"  Lo  thus,  where  sacrilegge  is  used, 
A  man  can  feigne  his  conscience 
And  right  upon  such  evidence 
In  Loves  cause  if  I  shall  trete, 
There  ben  of  suche  small  and  great, 
If  they  no  leiser  finden  elles 
They  wol  nought  wonden  for  the 
belles, 

1  To  wife,  to  blame. 


Ne  though  they  sen  the  prest  at 

masse, 

That  wol  they  leten  overpasse, 
If  that  they  finden  her  love  there 
They  stande  and  tellen  in  her  ere 
And  axe  of  God  none  other  grace 
While  they  ben  in  that  holy  place. 
But  er  they  gon  some  avauntdge 
There  will    they  have    and    some 

pila"ge 

Of  goodly  word  or  of  beheste, 
Or  elles  they  take  atte'  leste 
Out  of  her  honde  a  ring  or  glove, 
So  nigh  the  weder  they  will  hove, 
As  who  saith  she  shall  nought  for- 

yete 

Now  I  this  token  of  her  have  gete. 
Thus  halwe  they  the  highe  feste, 
Such  thefte  may  no  chirch  areste, 
For  all  is  lefull  that  hem  liketh, 
To  whom  that  elles  it  misliketh. 
And  eke  right  in  the  selve  kinde 
In  greate  citees  men  may  finde 
This  lusty  folk  that  make  hem  gay 
And  waite  upon  the  haliday, 
In  chirches  and  in  minstres  eke 
They  gon  the  women  for  to  seke, 
And  where  that  such  one  goth  about 
To-fore  the  fairest  of  the  route 
Where  as  they  sitten  all  a  rewe, 
There  will  he  moste  his  body  shewe, 
His  croket l  kempt  and  theron  set 
An  ouchd  2  with  a  chapelet 
Or  die's  one  of  grene  leves 
Which  late  came  oute  of  the  greves, 
All  for  he  shulde  seme'  fressh. 
And  thus  he  loketh  on  his  flessh 
Right  as  an  hawke  which  hath  a  sight 
Upon  the  fowl  there  he  shall  light, 
And  as  he  were  a  fairie 
He  sheweth  him  to-fore  her  eye 
In  holy  place  where  they  sitte 

1  Croket,  crocquet,  a  large  roll  of  crossed  hair 
once  in  the  fashion. 

-  Ouc/te,  jewel,  or  jewel  «etting  .  .  .  greves, 
Kroves. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


303 


Al  for  to  make  her  berths  flitte. 
His  eye*  no  where  woll  abide 
But  loke  and  pry  on  every  side 
On  her  and  her,  as  him  best  liketh, 
And  other  while  among  he  siketh  ; 
Thenketh  one  of  hem  'That  was 

for  me  ! ' 

And  so  there  thenken  two  or  thre 
And  yet  he  loveth  none  of  alle, 
But  where  as  ever  his  chaunce'  falle; 
And  nethe'les  to  say  a  soth 
The  cause'  why  that  he  so  doth, 
Is  for  to  stele  an  herte  or  two 
Out  of  the  chirche  er  that  he  go. 
And  as  I  said  it  here  above, 
All  is  that  sacrilegge  of  love, 
For  well  may  be  he  steleth  awey 
That  he  never  after  yelde  may. 
Tell  me  forthy,  my  sone,  anone, 
Hast  thou  do  sacrilegge  or  none 
As  I  have  said  in  this  manere  ?;' — 

"  My  fader,  as  of  this  matere 
I  woll  you  tellen  redely 
What  I  have  do,  but  truely 
I  may  excuse  min  entent, 
That  I  never  yet  to  chirche  went 
In  such  mane'r  as  ye  me  shrive, 
For  no  womdn  that  is  on  live. 
The  cause  why  I  have  it  laft 
May  be  for  I  unto  that  craft 
Am  nothing  able  for  to  stele, 
Though  there  be  women  nought  so 

fele. 

But  yet  woll  I  nought  saie  this 
Whan  I  am  there  my  lady  is, 
In  whom  lith  holy  my  quarele, 
And  she  to  chirche  or  to  chape'le 
Woll  go  to  matins  or  to  messe 
That  time  I  waite'  well  and  gesse, 
To  chirche  I   come,  and  there  I 

stonde, 

And  though  I  take  a  boke  on  honde 
My  contenaunce  is  on  the  boke 
But  toward  her  is  all  my  loke. 
And  if  so  falld,  that  I  pray 


Unto  my  God  and  somwhat  say 
Of  Pater  Noster  or  of  Crede 
All  is  for  that  I  wolde*  spede, 
So  that  my  bede  in  holy  chirche 
There  mightd  some  miracle  wirche 
My  ladies  herte*  for  to  chaunge, 
Which   ever   hath    be   to    me   so 

straunge ; 

So  that  all  my  devocion 
And  all  my  contemplacion 
With  all  min  herte  and  my  cora*ge 
Is  only  set  on  her  yma'ge. 
And  ever  I  waite  upon  the  tide 
If  she  loke  any  thing  aside, 
That  I  me  may  of  her  avise  ; 
Anone  I  am  with  Covetise 
So  smitd  that  me  werd  lefe 
To  be  in  holy  chirche  a  thefe, 
But  nought  to  stele  a  veste'ment 
For  that  is  nothing  my  talent. 
But  I  wol  stele  if  that  I  might 
A  glad  word  or  a  goodly  sight, 
And  ever  my  servfce  I  profre. 
And  namely  whan  she  woli  gone 

offre, 

For  than  I  lede  her,  if  I  may. 
For  somwhat  wold  I  stele  away 
Whan  I  beclippe  her  on  the  waste, 
Yet  atte*  last  I  stele  a  taste,1 
And  other  while  '  graunt  mercy  ' 
She  saith,  and  so  win  I  therby 
A  lusty  touch,  a  good  worde  eke, 
But  all  the  remenaunt  to  seke 
Is  fro  my  purpos  wonder  fer. 
So  may  I  say,  as  I  said  er, 
In  holy  chirch  if  that  I  wowe, 
My  conscience  I  wolde  allowe 
Be  so  that  up  amende'ment 
I  mighte'  get  assigne*ment 
Where  for  to  spede  in  other  place  ; 
Such  sacrilegge  I  hold  a  grace. 

"  And  thus,  my  fader,  soth  to  say 
In  chirche'  right  as  in  the  way 

1  Taste,  touch  (inter).  So  a  knight  might 
in  the  old  romances  taste  hi*  hone ;  or  a 
damsel  taste  ;i  hero's  wound. 


3°4 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


If  I  might  ought  of  love  take 
Such  hansel  have  I  nought  forsake. 
But  finally  I  me  confesse, 
There  is  in  me  no  halinesse 
While  I  her  se  in  haly  stede. 
And  yet  for  ought  that  ever  I  dede 
No  sacrilegge  of  her  I  toke 
But  if  it  were  of  worde  or  loke 
Or  elles  if  that  I  her  fredde 1 
Whan  I  toward  offring  her  ledde, 
Take  therof  what  I  take  may 
For  elles  here  I  nought  away, 
For  though  I  wolde  ought  elles  have 
All  other  thinges  ben  so  save 
And  kept  with  such  a  privilegge 
That  I  may  do  no  sacrilegge ; 
God  wot  my  wille  netheles. 
Though  I  must  nedes  kepe  pees 
And  malgre  min  so  let  it  passe, 
My  will  therto  is  nought  the  lasse, 
If  I  might  other  wise  away, 
Forthy,  my  fader,  I  you  pray, 
Tell  what  you  thenketh  therupon, 
If  I  therof  have  gilt  or  none." — 

"  Thy  will,  my  sone,  is  for  to 

blame, 

The  remenaunt  is  but  a  game 
That  I  have  herd  the  telle'  yit. 
But  take  this  lore  into  thy  wit, 
That  alle  thing  hath  time  and  stede, 
The  chirche  serveth  for  the  bede,2 
The  chambre  is  of  an  other  speche  ; 
But  if  thou  wistest  of  the  wreche 
How  sacrilegge  it  hath  abought, 
Thou  woldest  better  ben  bethought. 
And  for  thou  shalt  the  more  amende, 
A  tale  I  will  on  the  despende. 

"  ^0  aUc  men  as  who  saithknowe 
It  is,  and  in  the  world  through  blowe, 
How  that  of  Troie  Lamedon 
To  Hercules  and  to  Jason, 
Whan  toward  Colchos  out  of  Grece 
By  see  sailend,  upon  a  piece 
Of  londe  of  Troie  reste  preide. 

1  Fredde,  felt.  2  Bede,  prayer. 


But  he  hem  wrothfully  congeide,1 
And  for  they  found  him  so  villein, 
Whan  they  came  into  Grece  ayein 
With  power  that  they  gette  might 
Towardes  Troie  they  hem  dight 
And  there  they  token   such  ven- 

geaunce, 

Wherof  stantyet  theremembraiince. 
For  they  destruied  king  and  all 
And  leften  but  the  brente  wall, 
The  Grekes  of  Troians  many  slow2 
And  prisoners  they  toke  inow, 
Among  the  whiche  there  was  one 
The  kinges  doughter  Lamedon 
Esiona  the  faire*  thing, 
Which  unto  Thelamon  the  king 
By  Hercules  and  by  thassent 
Of  all  the  hole  parlement 
Was  at  his  wille  yove  and  graunted. 
And  thus  hath  Grece  Troie'  daunted, 
Andhome  they  torne  in  such  maneVe. 
But  after  this,  now  shalt  thou  here 
The  cause,  why  I  this  tale  telle, 
Upon  the  chaunce  that  befelle. 
"  King   Lamedon,  which   deide 

thus, 

He  had  a  sone  one  Priamus, 
Which  was  nought  thilke  time  at 

home, 

But  whan  he  herd  of  this,  he  come 
And  found  how  the  citee  was  falle, 
Which  he  began  anon  to  walle 
And  made  there  a  citee  newe, 
That  they  which  other  londesknewe 
Tho  saiden  that  of  lime  and  stone 
In  all  the  world  so  faire  was  none. 
And  on  that  o  side  of  the  town 
The  king  let  maken  Ylion, 
That  high  e  toure,  thatstronge  place, 
Which  was  adrad  of  no  mankce 
Of  quarele  nor  of  none  engine. 
Andthoughmen  wolde  make  a  mine, 
No  mannes  craft  it  might  approche, 
For  it  was  set  upon  a  roche 

1  Congeide,  expelled.  2  Slow,  slew. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


305 


The  walles  of  the  towne  about, 
H  em  stood  of  all  the  world  no  doubt.  * 
And  after  the  proportioun 
Six  gate's  were  there  of  the  town 
Of  such  a  forme  of  such  entaile 
That  hem  to  se  was  great  merveile. 
The  diche's  weren  brode  and  depe, 
A  fewe*  men  it  mightd  kepe 
From  all  the  world,  as  semeth  tho 
But  if2  the  godde's  weren  fo. 
Great  prees  unto  that  citee  drough, 
So  that  there  was  of  people  inough 
Of  burgeis  that  therinne'  dwellen, 
There  may  no  manne's  tunge  tellen, 
How  that  citee  was  riche  and  good. 

"Whan  all  was  made  and  all 

well  stood, 

King  Priamus  tho  him  bethought 
What  they  of  Grece  whilom  wrought, 
And  what  was  of  her  swerd  devoured, 
And  how  his  suster  deshonoured 
With  Thelamon  away  was  lad. 
And  tho  thenke'nd  he  wex  unglad 
And  set  anone  a  parlement 
To  which  the  lorde's  were  assent.3 
In  many  wise  there  was  spoke, 
How  that  they  mighten  bene  awroke, 
But  atte'  laste  nethe*les 
They  saiden  all  accorde  and  pees ; 
To  setten  every  parte  in  rest 
It  thought  hem  thanne'  for  the  best 
With  resondble  amendement. 
And  thus  was  Anthenor  forth  sent 
To  axen  Esiona  ayein 
And  witen  what  they  wolden  sain. 

"  So  passeth  he  the  see  by  barge 
To  Grece'  for  to  say  his  charge, 
The  which  he  saidd  redely 
Unto  the  lorde's  by  and  by.4 
But  where  he  spake  in  Grece  aboute, 

1  Doubt,  fear. 

2  But  if,  unless. 

8  Assentt  sent  for,  summoned. 

*  By  and  by,  immediately.  "  By  and  by," 
"  presently,"  "anon,"  and  some  other  words  of 
promptitude,  have  erown  into  senses  that  ex 
press  some  little  delay. 


He  herde*  nought  but  wordes  stoute 
And  name'liche  of  Thelamon. 
The  maiden  wolde  he  nought  forgon, 
He  snide,  for  no  maner  thing, 
And  bad  him  gone  home  to  his  king, 
For  there'  gat  he  none  amende 
For  ought  he  couthe  do  or  sende. 
"This  Anthen6r  ayein  gothhome 
Unto  his  king,  and  whan  he  come, 
He  tolde  in  Grece  of  that  he  herde, 
And  how  that  Thelamon  answe'rde, 
And  how  they  were  at  her  above, 
That  they  wol  nouther  pees  ne  love 
But  every  man  shall  done  his  best. 
But  for  men  sain,  that  night  hath 

rest, 
The  king  bethought  him  all  that 

night, 

And  erly  whan  the  day  was  light 
He  toke  counseil  of  this  mature, 
And  they  accorde  in  this  manure, — 
That  he  withouten  any  let 
A  certain  time'  shulde'  set 
A  parle'ment  to  ben  avised, 
And  in  this  wise  it  was  avised. 
Of  parle'ment  he  set  a  day, 
And  that  was  in  the  month  of  May. 
This  Priamus  had  in  his  ight  * 
A  wife,  and  Hecuba  she  hight, 
By  whom  at  that  time  eke  had  he 
Sends  five  and  doughters  thre 
Besiden  hem  and  thritty  mo, 
And  weren  knighte's  alle  tho  2 
But  nought  upon  his  wife  begete, 
But  die's  where  he  might  hem  gete 
Of  women  which  he  haddd  knowe. 
Such  was  the  world  that  ilke*throwe, 
So  that  he  was  of  children  riche 
So  therof  was  no  man  him  liche. 

Of  parle'ment  the  day  was  come. 
There  ben  the  lorde's  all  and  some, 
Tho  was  pronounced  and  purposed 
And  all  the  cause  hem  was  des- 

closed, 

1  Ight,  possession.  -  Tho.  those. 

u 


306 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


How  Anthenor  in  Greed  ferde. 
They  sitten  alle  still  and  herde, 
And  tho  spake  every  man  aboute  ; 
There  was  allegged  many  a  doubte, 
And  many  a  proud  word  spoke  also. 
But  for  the  moste  parte  as  tho 
They  wisten  nought  what  was  the 

beste 

Or  for  to  werre  or  for  to  reste. 
But  he  that  was  withoute  fere,1 
Hector,  among  the  lorde's  there 
His  tale  tolde  in  suche  a  wise 
And  saide  :  '  Lordes,  ye  ben  wise, 
Ye  knowen  this  als  well  as  I, 
Above  all  other  most  worthy 
Stant  now  in  Grece  the  manhod 
Of  worthinesse  and  of  knighthod. 
For  who  so  woll  it  wel  agrope, 
To  hem  belongeth  all  Europe, 
Whiche  is  the  thridde  parte  evdn 
Of  all  the  world  under  the  heven. 
And  we  be  but  of  folk  a  fewe, 
So  were  it  reson  for  to  shewe 
The  peril  er  we  fall  therinne. 
Bet  is  to  leve  than  beginne 
Thing  whichas    may    nought  ben 

acheved, 
He  is  nought  wise,  that  find  him 

greved 

And  doth  so  that  his  greve  be  more. 
For  who  that  loketh  all  to-fore 
And  woll  nought  se  what  is  behinde, 
He  may  full  ofte  his  harmes  finde. 
Wickis  to  striveand  have  the  worse, 
We  have  encheson  for  to  curse, 
This  wote  I  well,  and  for  to  hate 
The  Grekes,  but  er  that  we  debate 
With  hem  that  ben  of  such  a  might 
It  is  full  good  that  every  wight 
Be  of  him  self  right  well  bethought. 
But  as  for  me  thus  say  I  nought, 
For  while  that  my  life  woll  stonde, 
If  that  ye  take  werre  on  honde, 
Fall  it  to  the  best  or  to  the  werst, 

1  Fere,  companion,  equal. 


I  shall  my  selven  be  the  ferst 
To  greven  hem  what  ever  I  may. 
I  woll  nought  ones  saie  nay 
To  thing  which  that  your  counceil 

demeth, 

For  unto  me  well  more  it  quemeth 
The  werre  certes  than  the  pees. 
But  this  I  saie  netheles, 
As  me  belongeth  for  to  say. 
Now  shape  ye  the  beste  way/ 

"Whan  Hector  hath  said  his  avis 
Next  after  him  tho  spake  Paris, 
Which  was  his  brother,  and  alaide1 
What  him  best  thought,  and  thus 

he  saide  : 

'  Strong  thing  it  is  to  suffrd  wronge, 
And  suffre  shame  is  more  stronge  ; 
But  we  have  suffred  bothd  two  : 
And,  for  all  that,  yet  have  we  do 
What  so  we  mighte*  to  reforme 
The  pees,  whan  \ve  in  suche  a  forme 
Sent  Anthenor,  as  ye  wel  knowe. 
And  they  her  grete  wordes  bio  we 
Upon  her  wrongful!  dedes  eke, 
And  he  that  woll  him  self  nought 

meke 

To  pees  and  list  no  reson  take, 
Men  sain  reson  him  wol  forsake. 
For  in  the  multitude  of  men 
Is  nought  the  strengthe,  for  with  ten 
It  hath  be  sene  in  true  quarele 
Ayein  an  hunderd  false  dele 
And  had  the  better,  of  Goddes  grace. 
Thus  hath  befalle  in  many  place. 
And  if  it  like  unto  you  alle, 
I  will  assay  how  so  it  falle 
Our  enemies  if  I  may  greve, 
For  I  have  caught  a  gret  beleve 
Upon  a  point  I  wol  declare. 

'  This  ender  day  as  I  gan  fare 
To  hunt  unto  the  gretd  herte 
Which   was  to-fore   min   houndes 

sterte, 
And  every  man  went  on  his  side 

I  Alaide,  alleged. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


3<>7 


Him  to  pursue,  and  I  to  ride 
Began  to  chase,  and  soth  to  say, 
Within  a  while,  out  of  my  way 
I  rode,  and  nistd  where  I  was, 
And  slepe  caught  me  and  on  the 

grasse 

Beside  a  welle  I  laid  me  down 
To  slepe,  and  in  a  vision 
To  me  the  god  Mercuric  cam, 
Goddesses  thre  with  him  he  nam 
Minerve,  Venus  and  Juno, 
And  in  his  honde  an  appel  tho 
He  helde  of  gold  with  letters  write. 
And  this  he  dide  me  to  wite 
How  that  they  put  hem  upon  me, 
That  to  the  fairest  of  hem  thre 
Of  gold  that  appel  shulde  I  yive. 
With  ech  of  hem  tho  was  I  shrive 
And  eche  one  faire  me  behight.1 
But  Venus  said,  if  that  she  might 
That  appel  of  my  yifte'  gete, 
She  wolde  it  nevermore  foryete  ; 
And  saide,  how  that  in  Grece  londe 
She  wolde'  bring  into  min  honde 
Of  all  this  erthd  the  faire'st : 
So  that  me  thought  it  for  the  best 
To  her  and  yaf  the  appel  tho. 
Thus  hope  I  well  if  that  I  go 
That  she  for  me  woll  so  ordeigne 
That  they  matere  for  to  pleigne 
Shull  have  or  that  I  come  ayein. 
Nowe  have  ye  herd  that  I  woll  sain, 
Say  ye  what  slant  in  your  avis.' — 
And  every  man  tho  saide  his, 
And  sondry  causes  they  recorde, 
But  atte'  lastd  they  accorde 
That  Paris  shall  to  Grece  wende. 
And  thus  the  parlement  toke  ende. 
"Cassandra  whan  sheherd  of  this, 
The  which  to  Paris  suster  is, 
Anone  she  gan  to  wepe  and  weile 
And  said  :  '  Alas,  what  may  us  eile, 
Fortune'  with  her  blinde'  whele 

1  FairS  behight,  promised  fairly,  made  fair 
promises. 


Ne  woll  nought  let  us  stonde  wele, 
For  this  I  dare  well  undertake, 
That  if  Paris  his  waid  take, 
As  it  is  said  that  he  shall  do, 
We  ben  for  ever  than  undo.' — 
The  which — Cassandra  thanne*hight 
In  all  the  world  as  it  bereth  sight, — 
In  bokds  ns  men  finde*  write, 
Is  that  Sibille  of  whom  ye  wite,1 
That  alle  men  yet  clepen  sage. 
Whan  that  she  wist  of  this  via"ge, 
How  Paris  shall  to  Crece*  fare, 
No  woman  mighte  worse*  fare 
Ne  sorwe  more  than  she  did. 
And  right  so  in  the  same  stede 
Ferd  Helenus  which  was  her  brother, 
Of  prophecy  and  such  another, 
And  all  was  holde  but  a  jape, 
So  that  the  purpos  which  was  shape, 
Or  were  hem  lefe  or  were  hem  lothe, 
Was  holde,  and  into  Grece  he  goth, 
This  Paris,  with  his  retenaunce. 
And  as  it  fell  upon  his  chaunce, 
Of  Grece  he  londeth  in  an  ile, 
And  him  was  told  the  same*  while 
Of  folk  which  he  began  to  freine,2 
Tho  was  in  thile  quene  Heleine, 
And  eke  of  centre's  there  about 
Of  ladies  many  a  lusty  rout, 
WTith  mochel  worthy  people  also. 
And  why  they  comen  thider  tho 
The  cause  stood  in  such  a  wise 
For  worship  and  for  sacrifice 
That  they  to  Venus  wolden  make, 
As  they  to-fore  had  undertake, 
Some  of  good  will,  some  of  behest, 
For  thannd  was  her  highe*  fest 
Within  a  temple  which  was  there. 
Whan  Paris  wiste  what  they  were, 
Anone  he  shope  his  ordenaiince 
To  gone  and  done  his  obeisaunce 
To  Venus  on  her  haliday 
And  did  upon  8  his  best  array. 

1  IWtt,  know.        2  Freine,  make  inquiry. 
9  Did  iifcx,  put  on. 


3°8 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


With  great   richesse   he  him  be- 

hongeth 

As  it  to  such  a  lord  belongeth, 
He  was  nought  armed  netheles, 
But  as  it  were  in  londe  of  pees. 
And  thus  he  goth  forth  out  of  ship 
And  taketh  with  him  his  felaship  ; 
In  such  manere  as  I  you  say 
Unto  the  Temple  he  helde  his  way. 

"  Tidmge,  which  goth  over  all 
To  greate  and  smalle  forth  withall, 
Come  to  the  quenes  ere  and  tolde 
How  Paris  come,  and  that  he  wolde 
Do  sacrifice  to  Venus. 
And  whan  she  herde  telle  thus, 
She  thought,  how  that  it  ever  be, 
That  she  woll  him  abide  and  se. 

"  Forth  cometh  Paris  with  glad 

visage 

Into  the  Temple  on  pelrinage, 
Where  unto  Venus  the  goddesse 
He  yiveth  and  offreth  great  richesse 
And  praieth  her  that  he  praie  wolde. 
And  than  aside  he  gan  beholde, 
And  sigh  where  that  this  lady  stood, 
And  he  forth  in  his  fresshe  mood 
Goth  there  she  was,  and  made  her 

chere 

As  he  well  couth  in  his  manere, 
That  of  his  wordes  such  plesaunce 
She  toke,  that  all  her  aqueintaunce 
Als  ferforth  as  the  herte  lay 
He  stale  er  that  he  went  away. 
So  goth  he  forth  and  toke  his  leve 
And  thought  anone,  as  it  was  eve, 
He  wolde  done  his  sacrilegge, 
That  many  a  man  shuldeit  abegge.1 
Whan  he  to  ship  ayein  was  come 
To  him  he  hath  his  counseil  nome  2 
And  all  devised  the  matere 
In  such  a  wise  as  thou  shalt  here. 
Withinne  night  all  prively 
His  men  he  warneth-by  and  by 
That  they  be  redy  armed  sone 

e,  abye,  pay  for.          -  Nome,  taken. 


For  certain  thing  whiche  is  to  done. 
And  they  anone  ben  redy  alle 
And  echone  other  gan  to  calle 
And  went  hem  out  upon  the  stronde 
And  toke  a  purpos  there  on  londe 
Of  what  thing  that  they  wolden  do, 
Toward    the    Temple    and    forth 

they  go. 

So  fell  it  of  devocion 
Heleine  in  contemplation 
With  many  an  other  worthy  wight 
Was  in  the  Temple  and  woke  all 

night 

To  bid  and  pray  unto  thymage 
Of  Venus,  as  was  than  usage, 
So  that  Paris  right  as  him  list 
Into  the  Temple  er  they  it  wist 
Came  with  his  men  all  sodeinly. 
And  all  at  one's  set  askry  l 
In  hem  which  in  the  Temple  were, 
For  tho  was  mochel  people  there, 
But  of  defence  was  no  bote, 
So  suffren  they  that  suffre  mote. 
Paris  unto  the  quend  wente 
And  her  in  both  his  armes  hente 
With  him  and  with  his  felaship 
And  forth  they  bere  her  into  ship. 
Up  goth  the  saile,  and  forth  they 

went, 

And  suche  a  wind  Fortune  hem  sent, 
Till  they  the  haven  of  Troie  caught, 
Where  out  of  ship  anone  they 

straught 

And  gone  hem  forth  toward  the  town, 
The  which  came  with  procession 
Ayein  Paris  to  sene  his  pray. 
And  every  man  began  to  say 
To  Paris  and  his  felaship 
All  that  they  couthen  of  worship, 
Was  none  so  litel  man  in  Troy 
That  he  ne  made  merthe  and  joy 
Of  that  Paris  had  wonne  Heleine. 
But  all  that  merthe  is  sorwe  and 


peme 


1  Askry,  screaming. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


3°9 


To  Helenus  and  to  Cassandre. 
For  they   it    tolclen l    shame   and 

sclaundre 

And  loss  of  all  the  comun  grace, 
That  Paris  out  of  haly  place 
By  stelth  hath  take  a  manners  wife, 
Wherof  that  he  shall  lese  his  life, 
And  many  a  worthy  man  therto, 
And  all  the  citee  be  fordo 
Which  never  shall  be  made  ayein. 
And  so  it  fell,  right  as  they  sain, 
The  sacrilegge'  which  he  wrought 
Was  cause  why  the  Gregois  sought 
Unto  the  town  and  it  belay 
And  wolden  never  part  away 
Till  what  by  sleight  and  what  by 

strength 
They  had  it  wonne  in  brede  and 

length 
And    brent    and    slain    that   was 

withinne. 

"  Now  se,  my  sone,  which  a  sinne 
Is  sacrilegge  in  haly  stede. 
Beware  therfore,  and  bid  thy  bede  2 
And  do  nothing  in  haly  chirche 
But  that  thoumightbyreson  wirche. 
And  eke  take  hede  of  Achilles, 
Whan  he  unto  his  love*  chees 
Polixena"  that  was  also 
In  haly  Temple  of  Apolld, 
Which  was  the  cause  why  he  deide 
And  all  his  lust  was  laid  aside. 
And  Troilus  upon  Creseide 
Also  his  firstd  love'  laide 
In  haly  place,  and  how  it  ferde 
As  who  saith  all  the  world  it  herde. 
Forsake  he  was  for  Diomede, 
Such  was  of  love  his  laste*  mede. 

"  Forth  y  my  sone,  I  wolde*  rede 
By  this  ensample  as  thou  might  rede 
Seche  die's  where  thou  wilt  thy  grace 
And  ware  thee  well,  in  haly  place, 
What  thou  to  lovd  do  or  speke 

1  Tolden,  accounted,  reckoned. 
*  Bid  thy  bcde,  pray  thy  prayer. 


In  aunter  if  it  so  be  wreke l 

As  thou  hast  herd  me  tell  to-fore, 

And  take  <;ood  hede  also  therfore. 

IMpoit  tfyc  forme  of  Avarice 
More  than  of  any  other  Vice     , 
I  have  devided  in  parties 
The    braunches,    which    of    com- 

paignies 

Through  out  the  world  in  general! 
Be  now  the  leders  over  all 
Of  Covetise  and  Perjurie, 
Of  Fals  Broca"ge  and  Usurie, 
Of  Scarsenesse  and  of  Unkinde- 

ship, 

Which  never  drough  to  felaship, 
Of  Robberie  and  of  Prive"  Stelth, 
Which  done  is  for  the  worlde's  welth, 
Of  Ravine  and  of  Sacrilegge, 
Which     maketh    the    conscience 

agregge;2 

All  though  it  may  richdsse  atteigne, 
It  floureth  but  it  shall  not  greine 
Unto  the  fruit  of  rightwisnesse. 
But  who  that  wolde'  do  Largesse 
Upon  the  reule  as  it  is  yive, 
So  might  a  man  in  trouthe'  live 
Toward  his  God  and  eke  also 
Toward  the  World,  for  both^  two 
Largesse  awaiteth,  as  belongeth 
To  neither  part  that  he  ne  wrongeth. 
He  kepeth  him  self,  he  kepeth  his 

frendes, 

So  stant  he  sauf  to  both  his  endes  ; 
That  he  excedeth  no  mesure, 
So  well  he  can  him  self  mesure  : 
Wherof,  my  sone',  thou  shalt  wite  s 
So  as  the  philosophre  hath  write, 

"  Betwene  the  two  extremity's 
Of  Vice  stont  the  properte's 
Of  Vertue,  and  to  prove  it  so 
Take  Avarice  and  take  also 
The  Vice  of  Prodegalite', 
Betwene  hem  Liberalite, 

1  JPrffrf,  avenged. 

3  Agrcggc,  feel  overburdened. 

3  Wite,  know. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Which  is  the  Vertue  of  Largesse, 
Stant  and  gove'rneth  his  noblesse. 
For  tho  two  Vices  in  discorde 
Stond  ever,  as  I  find  of  recorde ; 
So  that  betwene  her  two  debate 
Largesse  reuleth  his  estate, 
For  in  such  wise  as  Avarice, 
As  I  to-fore  have  told  the  Vice, 
Through  streit  holding  and  through 

scarsnesse 

Stant  as  contraire  to  largesse, 
Right  so  stant  Prodegalite 
Revers,  but  nought  in  such  degre. 
For  so  as  Avarice  spareth 
And  for  to  kepe  his  tresor  careth, 
That  other  all  his  own  and  more 
Ayein  the  wise  mannes  lore 
Yiveth  and  despendeth  here  and 

there, 

So  that  him  reccheth  never  where  ; 
While  he  may  borwe  he  woll  de- 

spende 

Till  att£  last  he  saith  :  «  I  wende.' l 
But  that  is  spoken  all  to  late, 
For  than  is  pouerte  at  the  gate 
And  taketh  him  even  by  the  sieve, 
For  erst  woll  he  no  wisdom  leve. 
And  right  as  Avarice  is  sinne, 
That  wold  his  tresor  kepe  and  winne, 
Right  so  is  Prodegalite'. 
But  of  Largesse  in  his  degre, 
Which  even  stant  betwene  the  two, 
The  highe  God  and  man  also 
The  vertue  eche  of  hem  commen- 

deth. 

For  he  him  selven  first  amendeth, 
That  over  all  his  name  spredeth, 
And  to  all  other  where  it  nedeth 
He  yiveth  his  good  in  such  a  wise 
That  he  maketh  many  a  man  arise 
Which  ellds  shuldd  falte  low. 
Largesse  may  nought  be  unknowe, 
For  what  lond  that  he  regneth  inne, 

1  fivenefe,  I  will  turn  (over  a  new  leaf),  will 
change  my  way. 


It  may  nought  faile  for  to  winne 
Through  his  deserte  love  and  grace, 
Where  it  shall  faile  in  other  place. 
And  thus,  betwene  to  moch  and  lite, 
Largesse,  which  is  nought  to  wite,1 
Holt  ever  forth  the  middel  way. 
But  who  that  torne  wol  away 
Fro  that  to  Prodegalite, 
Anone  he  left  the  propretd 
Of  Vertu  and  goth  to  the  Vice. 
For  in  such  wise  as  Avarice 
Leseth   for   scarsenesse    his    good 

name, 

Right  so  that  other  is  to  blame, 
Which  through   his    wast    mesiire 

excedeth. 
For  no  man  wot  what  harm  that 

bredeth 

But  mochel  joie  ther  betideth, 
Where    that    Largesse    an    hertc 

guideth. 

For  his  mesiire  is  so  governed, 
That  he  in  bothe  parts  is  lerned 
To  God  and  to  the  World  also, 
He  doth  reson  to  bothe  two. 
The  pouer  folk  of  his  almesse 
Relieved  ben  in  the  distresse 
Of  thurst  of  hunger  and  of  colde, 
Ne  yift  of  him  was  never  solde 
But  frely  yive,  and  netheles 
The  mighty  God  of  his  encres 
Rewardeth  him  of  double  grace, 
The  heven  he  doth  him  to  purchase 
And  yiveth  him  eke  the  worldes  good. 
And  thus  the  cotd  for  the  hood 
Largesse  taketh,  and  yet  no  sinne 
He  doth,  how  so  that  ever  he  winne. 
What  man  hath  hors,  men  yiven 

him  hors, 

And  who  ne  hath,  of  him  no  force,2 
For  he  may  thenne  on  fote  go  ; 
The  world  hath  ever  stonde  so. 
But  for  to  loken  of  the  tweie, 


e^  to  be  blamed. 
-  No  force,  no  matter. 


BOOK  V.— AVARICE. 


A  man  to  go  the  sikcr  wcic, 
Bet  is  to  yive  than  to  take, 
With  yifte  a  manmayfrendes  make, 
But  who  that  takethorgreat  or  small, 
He  taketh  a  charge*  forth  with  all 
And  slant  nought  fre  til  it  be  quit. 
So  for  to  deme  in  mannes  wit, 
It  helpeth  more  a  man  to  have 
His  ownd  good  than  for  to  crave 
Of  other  men  and  make  him  bonde 
Wher  elles  he  may  stond  unbonde. 
Senec  counseileth  in  this  wise 
And  saith  :  *  But  if  the  good  suffice 
Unto  the  liking  of  the  will, 
Withdrawe  thy  lust  and  hold  the  still 
And  be  to  thy  good  suffisaunt, 
For  that  thing  is  appurtenaunt 
To  trouthe  and  causeth  to  be  fre 
After  the  reule  of  charite, 
Which  first  beginneth  of  him  selve. 
For  if  thou  richest  other  twelve, 
Wherof  thou  shalt  thyself  be  pouer, 
I  not  what  thank  thou  might  recouer. 
While  that  a  man  hath  good  to  yive, 
With  greate*  route's  he  may  live 
And  hath  his  frendes  over  all, 
And  everich  of  him  telle'  shall, 
The  while  he  hath  his  fulle  packe 
They  say,  '  A  good  feldw  is  Jacke.' 
But  whan  it  faileth  atte'  last, 
Anone  his  prise  they  overcast, 
For  than  is  there  none  other  lawe, 
But  '  Jacke"  was  a  good  felawe.' 
Whan  they  him  pouer  and  nedy  se, 
They  let  him  passe  and  fare  well  he ; 
Al  that  he  wend  of  compaignie 
Is  thanne  torned  to  folie. 

"  But  now  to  speke  in  other  kinde 
Of  Love,  a  man  may  suche  finde, 
That  where  they  come  in  every  rout, 
They  cast  and  wast  her  love  about 
Till  all  her  time  is  overgone, 
And  thanne'  have  they  love*  none. 
For  he  that  loveth  over  all, 
It  is  no  reson  that  he  shall 


Of  love  have  any  proprete. 
Forthy  my  sone,  avise  the, 
If  thou  of  love  hast  ben  to  large  ; 
For  suche  a  man  is  nought  to  charge. 
And  if  it  so  be,  that  thou  hast 
Uespended  al  thy  time  in  wast 
And  set  thy  love  in  sondry  place, 
Though  thou  the  substaunce  of  thy 

grace 

Lese  at  the  last,  it  is  no  wonder, 
For  he  that  put  him  selven  under 
As  who  saith  comun  over  all, 
He  leseth  the  love"  speciall 
Of  any  one,  if  she  be  wise. 
For  lovd  shall  nought  bere  his  prise 
By  reson,  whan  it  passeth  one. 
So  have  I  sen  full  many  one, 
That  were  of  love*  wel  at  ese, 
Which  after  fell  in  great  disese 
Through  wast  of  lovd,  that  they  spent 
In  sondry  places  where  they  went. 
Right  so,  my  sone,  I  axe  of  the, 
If  thou  with  prodegalite 
Hast    here    and    there   thy   lov<5 
wasted  ?  "— 

"My  fader, nay, but  I  have  tasted 
In  many  a  place  as  I  have  go. 
And  yet  love  I  never  one  of  tho 
But  for  to  drive"  forth  the  day. 
For  leveth  well,  my  hert  is  ay 
Without^  mo  for  evermore 
All  upon  one,  for  I  no  more 
Desire  but  her  love  alone. 
So  make  I  many  a  prive"  mone, 
For  well  I  fele  I  have  despended 
My  longe  love  and  nought  amended 
My  spede,  for  ought  I  finde  yit. 
If  this  be  wast,  unto  your  wit, 
Of  love  and  prodegalite', 
Now,  gode"  fader,  demeth  ye. 
But  of  o  thing  I  woll  me  shrive, 
That  I  shall  for  no  love  thrive 
But  if  her  self  me  woll  lelcvc.''- 

"  My  sond,  that  I  may  well  leve,1 

,  believe. 


312 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  netheles  me  semeth  so 
For  ought  that  thou  hast  yet  misdo 
Of  time  whichd  thou  hast  spended, 
It  may  with  grace  ben  amended. 
For  thing  which  may  be  worth  the 

cost 

Perchaunce  is  nouther  wast  ne  lost, 
For  what  thing  stant  on  aventure 
That  can  no  worldes  creature 
Tell  in  certain  how  it  shall  wende 
Till  he  therof  may  sene  an  ende. 
So  that  I  note 1  as  yet  therfore, 
If  thou,  my  sone,  hast  wone  or  lore. 
For  ofte  time,  as  it  is  sene, 
Whan  somer  hath  lost  all  his  grene 
And  is  with  winter  wast  and  bare, 
That  him  is  left  nothing  to  spare, — 

1  Note,  know  not. 


All  is  recovered  in  a  throwe ; 
The  colde  winded  overblowe, 
And  stilled  ben  the  sharpe  shoures, 
And  sodeinlich  ayein  his  floures 
The  somer  happneth,  and  is  riche, 
And  so  parcas  thy  grace  is  liche. 
My  sone,  though  thou  be  now  pouer 
Of  love*,  yet  thou  might  recouer." — 
"  My  fader,  certe's  graunt  mercy, 
Ye  have  me  taught  so  redily, 
That  ever  while  I  live  shall 
The  bet  I  may.be  ware  with  all 
Of  thing  which  ye  have  said  er  this. 
But  evermore  how  that  it  is 
Toward  my  shrifte  as  it  belongeth, 
To  wit  of  other  points  me  longeth, 
Wherof  that  ye  me  wolden  teche 
With  all  min  herte  I  you  beseche." 


JBOOfe  UI. 


OF    GLUTTONY. 


grete  sinne  originall, 
Which  every  man  in  general 
Upon  his  birth  hath  envenimed, 
In  Paradis  it  was  mistimed, 
Whan  Adam  of  thilke  appel  bote, 
His  swete  morcel  was  to  hote, 
Which  dedly l  mad£  the  mankinde. 
And  in  the  bokes  as  I  finde 
This  Vice,  which  so  out  of  reule 
Hath  set  us  all,  is  cleped  Gule, 
Of  which  the  braunches  ben  sogreat 
That  of  hem  all  I  wol  nought  treat, 
But  only  as  touchend  of  two 
I  thenke  speke  and  of  no  mo. 
Wherof  the  first  is  Dronke'ship 
Which  bereth  the  cuppe  felaship. 
Ful  many  a  wonder  doth  this  Vice, 
He  can  make  of  a  wisman  nice, 
And  of  a  fool  that  him  shall  seme 
That  he  can  all  the  lawe  deme 
And  yiven  every  juge'me'nt 
Which  longeth  to  the  firmament 
Both  of  the  sterre  and  of  the  mone. 
And  thus  he  maketh  a  great  clerk 

sone 

Of  him  that  is  a  lewde  man. 
There  is  no  thing,  whiche  he  ne  can 
While  he  hath  dronke*shiponhonde, 
He  knoweth  the  see,  he  knoweth 

the  stronde, 

He  is  a  noble  man  of  armes, — 
And  yet  no  strength  is  in  his  armes. 

1  Dedly,  mortal. 


There  he  was  stronge  inow  to-fore 
With  dronke'ship  it  is  forlore, 
And  all  is  chaunged  his  estate 
And  wext  anone  so  feble  and  mate,1 
That  he  may  nouther  go  ne  come, 
But  all  to-gider  he  is  benome  2 
The  power  both  of  honde  and  fote 
So  that  algate  abide  he  mote, 
And  all  his  wittes  he  foryete. 
The  which  is  to  him  such  a  lete  3 
That  he  wot  never  what  he  doth, 
Ne  which  is  fals  ne  which  is  soth, 
Ne  which  is  day  ne  which  is  night, 
As  for  the  time  he  knoweth  no  wight4 
That  he  ne  wot  so  moch  as  this — 
What  maner  thing  him  selven  is 
Or  he  be  man  or  he  be  beste. 
That  holde  I  right  a  sory  feste, 
Whan  he  that  reson  understode 
So  sodeinlich  is  woxe*  wode 
Or  elles  lich  the  dedd  man 
Which  nouther  go  ne  speke  can. 

j  Thus  ofte  he  is  to  bedd£  brought, 
But  where  he  lith  yet  wot  he  nought, 

I  Till  he  arise  upon  the  morwe 

j  And  than  he  saith, '  O,  which  a  sonve 
It  is  for  to  be  drinke'les/ 

I  So  that  half  drunke  in  such  a  recs 
With  dri£  mouth  he  sterte  him  up 
And  saith, 'Now  baillez$a  the  cuppe.' 

1  Mate,  dull.  flat. 

2  Benome,  deprived  of. 
8  Lete,  hindrance. 

•»  Ko  wight,  no  whit. 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


That  made  him  lese  his  wit  at  eve 
Is  than  a  morwe  all  his  beleve, 
The  cuppe  is  all  that  ever  him  pleseth 
And  also  that  him  most  diseseth, 
It  is  the  cuppe  whom  he  serveth, 
"Which  3.116  cares  from  him  kerveth 
And  all  the  bales  to  him  bringeth. 
I  n  joy  he  wepeth,  in  sorwe  he  singeth, 
For  dronkeship  is  so  divers 
It  may  no  while  stonde  invers, 
He  drinketh  the  wine,  but  atte  last 
The  wine  drinketh  him  and  bint 

him  fast 

And  laith  him  drunke*  by  the  walle 
As  him  which  is  his  bondd  thralle 
And  all  in  his  subjection. 
And  lich  to  such  condicidn 
As  for  to  speke  it  otherwise 
It  falleth,  that  the  moste  wise 
Ben  other  while  of  Love  adoted 
And  so  bewhapped  and  assoted  1 
Of  dronken  men  that  never  yit 
Was  none  which  half  so  lost  his  wit 
Of  drinke,  as  they  of  such  thing  do 
Which  cleped  is  the  jolif  wo, 
And  waxen  of  her  owne  thought 
So  drunke  that  they  knowe  nought, 
What  reson  is,  or  more  or  lesse. 
Such  is  the  kinde  of  that  siknesse, 
And  that  is   nought  for  lacke  of 

braine, 

But  Love  is  of  so  great  a  maine  2 
That  where  he  taketh  a  herte  on 

honde, 
There  may  no  thing  his  might  with- 

stonde. 

The  wise  Salomon  was  nome, 
And  stronge  Sampson  overcome, 
The  knightly  David  him  ne  might 
Rescoue'  that  he  with  the  sight 
Of  Bersabe  ne  was  bestade. 
Virgile  also  was  overlade, 
And  Aristotle  was  put  under. 

1  Bewhapped  and  assoted,  knocked  over  and 
besotted. 

2  Maine,  strength. 


"Forthymy  sone,it  is  no  wonder, 
If  thou  be  drunke  of  Love  amonge, 
Which  is  above  all  other  stronge. 
And  if  so  is  that  thou  so  be, 
Tell  me  thy  shrift  in  privete, 
It  is  no  shame  of  such  a  thewe 
A  yong  man  to  be  dronkelewe. 
Of  such  phisique  I  can  a  parte, 
And  as  me  semeth  by  that  arte 
Thou  shuldest  by  phisonomf 
Be  shapen  to  that  malady 
Of  love  drunk,  and  that  isrouthe.''- 

"  Ha,  holy  fader,  all  is  trouthe 
That  ye  me  telle,  I  am  beknowe, 
That  I  with  Love  am  so  bethrowe 1 
And  al  min  herte  is   so  through 

sunke 

That  I  am  veriliche  drunke, 
And  yet  I  may  both  speke  and  go. 
But  I  am  overcome  so 
And  torne'd  fro  my  self  so  clene 
That  oft  I  wot  nought  what  I  mene, 
So  that  excusen  I  ne  may 
My  herte  fro  the  firste  day 
That  I  cam  to  my  lady  kith.2 
I  was  yet  sobre  never  sith, 
Where  3  I  her  se  or  se  her  nought ; 
With  musing  of  min  owne  thought 
Of  love'  which  min  herte  assaileth 
So  drunke  I  am  that  my  wit  faileth 
And  all  my  braine  is  overtorned, 
And  my  manere  so  mistorned, 
That  I  foryete  all  that  I  can 
And  stonde  like  a  mased  man, 
That  ofte  whan  I  shulde  play 
It  maketh  me  drawe  out  of  the  way 
In  solein4  place  by  my  selve, 
As  doth  a  laborer  to  delve 
Which  can  no  gentilmannes  chere,^ 
Or  elles  as  a  lewde  frere, 
Whan  he  is  put  to  his  penaunce, 

1  Bethrmve,  cast  down. 

2  Cain  kith,  became  known. 

3  Where,  whether. 

4  Srfein,  single. 

5  Who  knows  nothing  of  the  good  manners 
of  a  gentleman. 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


3'5 


Right  so  lese  I  my  contenauncc. 
And  if  it  nedes  so  betide, 
That  I  in  compaigny  abide, 
Where  as  I  muste  daunce  and  singe 
The  hove-daunce  l  and  carolinge, 
Or  for  to  go  the  newe"  fote, 
I  may  nought  wel  heve  up  my  fote, 
If  that  she  be  nought  in  the  way. 
For  than  is  all  my  merth  away, 
And  waxe  anone  of  thought  so  full, 
Wherof  my  limme's  ben  so  dull, 
I  may  unethds  2  gon  the  pas. 
For  thus  it  is  and  ever  was, 
Whan  I  on  suche  thoughte's  muse, 
The  lust  and  merthe  that  men  use, 
Whan  I  se  nought  my  lady  by  me, 
All  is  foryete'  for  the  time' 
So  ferforth  that  my  wine's  chaungen 
And  alle  lustes  fro  me  straungen, 
That  they  sain  alle*  true'ly 
And  svvere,  that  it  am  nought  I. 
For  as  the  man  which  ofte  drinketh 
The  wine  thatinhisstomacksinketh 
Wexth    drunke   and   witles  for  a 

throwe, 

Right  so  my  lust  is  overthrowe, 
And  of  min  owne  thought  so  mate3 
I  waxe",  that  to  min  estate 
There  is  no  limme  will  me  serve, 
But  as  a  drunken  man  I  swerve 
And  suffre  such  a  passion, 
That  men  have  great  compassion 
And  everich  by  him  self  merveileth 
What  thing  it  is  that  me  so  efleth. 
Such  is  the  maner  of  my  wo, 
Which  time'  that  I  am  her  fro, 
Till  efte  ayein  that  I  her  se. 
But  than  it  were  a  nice'te' 
To  telle  you  how  that  I  fare. 
For  whan  I  may  upon  her  stare, 
Her  womanheed,  her  gentilesse, 
Min  hert  is  full  of  such  gladnesse 
That  overpasseth  so  my  wit 

l  Hcn>t-dauHCCi  court  dance. 
3  Unethfs,  not  easily. 
»  Mate,  dull,  dead. 


That  I  wot  never  where  it  sit, 
But  am  so  drunken  of  that  sight 
Me  thenketh  for  the  time  I  might 
Right  stertd  through  the  hole  wall. 
And  than  I  may  well,  if  I  shall, 
Both  singe  and  daunce  and  lepe 

about 

And  holde  forth  the  lusty  rout. 
But  nethe"les  it  falleth  so 
Full  ofte*  that  I  fro  her  go 
Ne  may,  but  as  it  were  a  stake 
I  stonde,  avise'ment  to  take 
And  loke  upon  her  faire"  face, 
That  for  the  while  out  of  the  place 
For  all  the  world  ne  might  I  wende. 
Such    lust    comth    than    into    my 

minde, 

So  that  without^  mete  and  drinke 
Of  lusty  thoughte's  which  I  thinke, 
Me  thenketh  I  mightd  stonden  ever. 
And  so  it  were*  to  me  lever 
Than  such  a  sighte*  for  to  leve, 
If  that  she  wolde'  yive  me  leve 
To  have  so  mochel  of  my  will. 
And  thus  thenke'nd  I  stonde  still 
Without^  blenching  of  min  eye, 
Right  as  me  thoughte"  that  I  sigh 
Of  paradis  the  moste  joy. 
And  so  there  while  I  me  rejoy; 
Unto  min  herte  a  great  desire 
The  which  is  hoter  than  the  fire 
All  sodeinliche  upon  me  renneth, 
That  all  my  thought  withinne  bren- 

neth 

And  am  so  ferforth  overcome 
That  I  not  where  I  am  become, 
So  that  among  tho  herte's  stronge 
In  stede  of  drinke  I  underfonge 
A  thought  so  swete  in  my  cordge, 
That  never  piment l  ne  vernage  - 
Was  half  so  swetd  for  to  drinke. 
For  as  I  wolde,  than  I  thinke, 

1  Pintfttt,  wine  with  a  third  part  of  honey 
spiced  with  powder  of  cloves,  mace,  cinnamon, 
cubebs,  and  galingale. 

a  Ventage^  a  white  wine. 


3i6 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


As  though  I  were  at  min  above, 
For  so  through  drunke  I  am  of  love, 
That  all  that  my  sotie  demeth 
Is  soth  as  than  it  to  me  semeth. 
And  while  I  may  tho  thoughtes  kepe 
Me  thenketh  as  though  I  were  aslepe 
And  that  I  were  in  Goddes  barme.1 
But  whan  I  se  min  owne  harme 
And  that  I  sodeinliche  awake 
Out  of  my  thought  and  hede  take 
How  that  the  sothe  stant  in  dede, 
Than  is  my  sikernesse  in  drede 
And  joie  torne'd  into  wo, 
So  that  the  hete  is  all  ago 
Of  such  sotie  as  I  was  inne. 
And  than  ayeinward  I  beginne 
To  take  of  love  a  newe  thorst, 
The  which  me  greveth  alltherworst, 
For  thanne  cometh  the  blanche  fever 
With  chele  and  maketh  me  so  to 

chever2 

And  so  it  coldeth  at  min  herte, 
That  wonder  is  how  I  asterte  3 
In  suche  a  point  that  I  ne  deie. 
For  certes  there  was  never  keie 
Ne  frosen  is  upon  the  walle 
More  inly  cold  than  I  am  alle. 
And  thus  suffre  I  the  hote  chele 
Which  passeth  other  peines  fele, 
In  colde  I  brenne  and  frese  in  hete 
And  than  I  drinke  a  bitter  swete 
With  drie  lippe  and  even  wete. 
Lo,  thus  I  temper  my  diete 
And  take  a  draught  of  such  reles  4 
That  all  my  wit  is  herteles 
And  all  min  herte  there  it  sit 
Is  as  who  saith  withoute  wit, 
So  that  to  prove  it  by  resdn 
In  making  of  comparison 
There  may  no  differe'ncd  be 
Betwen  a  drunken  man  and  me, 
But  all  the  werst  of  everychone 
Is  ever  that  I  thurst  in  one. 


1  Barme,  bosom. 
3  Asterte,  escape. 


2  Chever,  shiver. 
*  Kelts,  relish. 


The  more  that  my  herte  drinketh 
The    more    I    may,    so     that    me 

thinketh, 

My  thurst  shall  never  be  acqueint.1 
God  shielde  that  I  be  nought  dreint 
Of  such  a  superfluite. 
For  well  I  fele  in  my  degre 
That  all  my  wit  is  overcast, 
Wherof  I  am  the  more  agast 
That  in  defaulte  of  ladyship 
Perchaunce  in  such  a  dronkeship 
I  may  be  dead  er  I  beware. 
For  certes,  fader,  this  I  dare 
Beknowe  and  in  my  shrifte  telle, 
But 2  I  a  draught  have  of  that  welle 
In  which  my  deth  is  and  my  life, 
My  joy  is  torned  into  strife, 
That  sobre  shall  I  never  worthe,3 
But  as  a  drunken  man  forworthe,4 
So  that  in  londe,  where  I  fare, 
The  lust  is  lore  of  my  welfare, 
As  he  that  may  no  bote  finde. 
Butthismethenkethawonderkinde, 
As  I  am  drunke  of  that  I  drinke 
Of  these  thoughtes  that  I  thinke 
Of  which  I  finde  no  reles, 
But  if  I  mighte  netheles 
Of  suche  a  drinke  as  I  coveite 
So  as  me  list  have  o  receite, 
I  shulde  assobre  5  and  fare  wele. 
But  so  Fortune  upon  her  whele 
Onhighmedeigneth  noughttosette, 
For  evermore  I  finde  a  lette. 
The  boteler  is  nought  my  frend 
Which  hath  the  keie  by  the  bend.6 
I  may  well  wissh  and  that  is  waste, 
For  well  I  wot  so  fressh  a  taste, 
But  if  my  grace  be  the  more, 
I  shall  assaie  nevermore. 
Thus  am  I  drunke  of  that  I  se, 
For  tasting  is  defended  me, 

1  Acqueint,  quenched. 

2  But,  unless. 

3  IVorthe,  become. 

4  Fonvorthe,  perish. 

5  Assobre,  become  sober. 

§  The  key  on  his  girdle,  or  band. 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


And    I    can    nought    my    selven 

staunche, 

So  that,  my  fader,  of  this  braunche 
I  am  giltif,  to  telle  trouth."— 

"My  sond,   that   me   thenketh 

routh. 

For  lovedrunke  is  the  mischefe 
Above  all  other  the  moste  chefe, 
If  he  no  lusty  thought  assay 
Which  may  his  sory  thurst  allay, 
As  for  the  time'  yet  it  lesseth 
To  him  which  other  joie  misseth. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  aboven  all 
Think  well  how  so  it  the  befall, 
And  kepe  thy  wittes  that  thou  hast 
And  let  hem  nought  be  drunke  in 

wast. 

But  netheles  there  is  no  wight, 
That  may  withstonde  Loves  might. 
But  why  the  cause  is,  as  I  finde, 
But  that  there  is  diverse  kinde 
Of  lovedrunke :  why  men  pleigneth 
Afterthe  court  which  all  ordeigneth, 
I  will  the  tellen  the  manere, 
Now  list,  my  sone,  and  thou  shalt 
here. 

5?oi:    i^c    fortune     of    every 

chaunce 

After  the  goddes  purveaunce 
To  man  it  groweth  from  above, 
So  that  the  spede  of  every  love 
Is  shapd  there,  er  it  befalle. 
For  Jupiter  aboven  alle, 
Which  is  of  goddes  soverain, 
Hath  in  his  celler,  as  men  sain, 
Two  tonne's  full  of  love  drinke 
That  maketh  many  an  herte  sinke 
And  many  an  herte  also  to  flete,1 
Or  of  the  soure  or  of  the  swete. 
That  one  is  full  of  such  piment, 
WThich  passeth  all  entendement 
Of  mannes  wit  if  he  it  taste, 
And  maketh  a  jolif  herte  in  haste. 

"  That  other  bitter  as  the  galle, 

1  Flete,  float,  swim. 


Which  maketh  amannes  herte  palle, 
Whose  dronke'ship  is  a  siknesse 
Through  feling  of  the  bitternesse. 
Cupide  is  botdler  of  bothe, 
Which  to  the  leve  and  to  the  lothe 
Yiveth  of  the  swete  andof  the  soure, 
That  some'  laugh  and  some'  loure. 
But  for  so  much  as  he  blinde  is 
Full  oftd  time  he  goth  amis 
And  taketh  the  baddd  for  the  good, 
Which  hindreth  many  a  mannas  food 
Without^  cause  and  furthereth  eke. 
So  be  there  some  of  love  seke 
Which  ought  of  reson  to  ben  hole, 
And  some  come'  to  the  dole 
In  happe  and  as  hem  selven  lest l 
Drinke  undeserved  of  the  best. 

"  And  thus  this  blinde  boteiere 
Yiveth  of  the  trouble   in  stede  of 

chere 

And  eke  the  chere  in  stede  of  trouble. 
Lo,  how  he  can  the  hertes  trouble 
And  maketh  men  drunke  al  upon 

chaunce 

Without^  lawe  of  governaunce. 
If  he  drawe  of  the  swete  tonne, 
Than  is  the  sorwe  all  overronne 
Of  lovedrunke,  and  shall  nought 

greven 

So  to  be  drunken  every  even, 
For  all  is  thanne  but  a  game. 
But  whan  it  is  nought  of  the  same 
And  he  the  better  tonnd  draweth, 
Such  dronke'ship  an  herte  gnaweth 
And  febleth  all  a  mannas  thought, 
That  better  him  were  have  drunkd 

nought 

And  all  his  brede  have  eten  drie, 
For  than  he  lest  his  lusty  wey 
With  dronke'ship  and  wot  nought 

whider 

To  go,  the  waies  ben  so  slider, 
In  whiche  he  may  par  cas  so  falle 
That  he  shall  breke  his  wittds  alle. 

1  Lest,  please. 


3'S 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  in  this  wise  men  be  drunke 
And  the  drinke  they  have  drunke. 
But  alle  drinken  nought  alike, 
For  some  shall  singe  and  some  shal 

sike, 

So  that  it  me  no  thing  merveileth, 
My  sone,  of  love  that  the  eyleth. 
For  wel  I  knowe  by  thy  tale, 
That    thou    hast  drunken   of   the 

dvvale  1 

Which  bitter  is.  till  God  the  sende 
Such     grace     that     thou     might 

amende. 

But  sone,  thou  shalt  bid  and  pray 
In  such  a  wise  as  I  shall  say, 
That  thou  the  luste  well  atteigne 
Thy  wofull  thurstes  to  restreigne 
Of  Love  and  taste  the  swetenesse, 
As  Bachus  did  in  his  distresse, 
Whan  bodeliche  thurst  him  hent 
In  straungd  londes,  where  he  went. 
"!tf)i5  ^adjus  sone  of  Jupiter 
Was  note,2  and  as  he  wente  fer 
By  his  faders  assignement 
To  make  a  wer  in  Orient 
And  great  power  with  him  he  ladde, 
So  that  the  higher  hond  he  hadde 
And  victoire  of  his  enemies 
And    torneth    homward   with    his 

prise. 

In  suche  a  contre  which  was  drie 
A  mischefe  fell  upon  the  wey, 
As  he  rode  with  his  compaigny 
Nigli  to  the  strondes  of  Lubie, 
There  mighte  they  no  drinkd  finde 
Of  water  ne  of  other  kinde, 
So  that  him  self  and  all  his  hoste 
Were  for  default  of  drinke  almoste 
Distruied,  and  than  Bachus  praid 
To  Jupiter,  and  thus  he  said  : 
'  O  high£  fader,  that  seest  all, 
To  whom  is  reson  that  I  shall 
Beseche  and  pray  in  every  nede, 
Behold,  my  fader,  and  take  hede 

1  Dwale,  nightshade.  2  Hote>  called. 


This  wofull  thurst  that  we  be  inne, 
To  staunche  and  graunt  us  for  to 

winne 

And  saufe  unto  the  contre  fare 
Where  that  our  lusty  loves  are 
Waitdnd  upon  our  home  coming.' 
And  with  the  vois  of  his  praying, 
Which  herd  was  to  the  goddes  high, 
He  sigh  anone  to-fore  his  eye 
A  wether  which  the  grounde  hath 

sporned, 

And  where  he  hath  it  overtorned, 
There  sprang  a  welle  fressh  and 

clere, 

Wherof  his  owne  botelere 
After  the  lustes  of  his  will 
Was  every  man,  to  drinke  his  fill. 
And  for  this  ilke  grete  grace 
Bachus  upon  the  same  place 
A  riche  temple  let  arere, 
Which  ever  shuld£  stonde  there 
To  thursty  men  in  remembraunce. 
"  Forthy",    my    sone,    after    this 

chaunce 

It  sit  the  well  to  taken  hede 
So  for  to  pray  upon  thy  nede, 
As  Bachus  praid£  for  the  well. 
And  thenke  as  thou  hast  herd  me  tell 
How  grace  he  gradde1  and  grace 

he  had, 

He  was  no  fool  that  first  so  rad. 
For  selden  get  a  domb  man  londe, 
Take    that    proverbe,  and    under- 

stonde 

That  wordes  ben  of  vertue  gret. 
Forthy  to  speke  thou  ne  let 
And  axe  and  pray  erely"  and  late 
Thy  thurst  to  quenche,  and  thenke 

algate, 

The  boteler  which  bereth  the  key 
Is  blinde,  as  thou  hast  herd  me  say. 
And  if  it  mighte  so  betide, 
That  he  upon  the  blindd  side 
Par  cas  the  swete  tonne  araught, 

1  Gradde,  cried  for. 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


Than  shall  thou  have  a  lusty  draught 
And  waxe  of  lovddrunke'  sobre. 
And  thus  I  rede  thou  assobre 
Thin  herte  in  hope  of  suche  a  grace, 
For  dronkeship  in  every  place 
To  whether  side*  that  it  torne 
Doth  harme  and  maketh  a  man  to 


sporne 


And  ofte  falle  in  suche  a  wise, 
Where  he  par  cas  may  nought  arise. 

"  And  for  to  loke  in  evidence 
Upon  the  sothe  experience 
So  as  it  hath  befall  er  this, 
In  every  mannes  mouth  it  is 
How  Tristram  was  of  lovd  drunke 
With  Bele  Isolde,  whan  they  drunke 
The  drink  which  Brangweine  hem 

betok 

Er  that  king  Mark  his  erne  her  toke 
To  wife,  as  it  was  after  knowe. 
And  eke,  my  sone,  if  thou  wolt  knowe 
As  it  hath  fallen  over  more 
In 'love's  cause,  and  what  is  more 
Of  dronke'shippe  for  to  drede 
As  it  whilom  befell  in  dede, 
Wherof    thou    might    the    better 

escheue 

Of  drunke"  men  that  thou  ne  sue 
The  compaigny  in  no  manere, 
A  great  ensample  thou  shalt  here. 

"tSfyts  flnbc  £  write  in  poesy 
Of  thilke"  faire  Ypotasy, 
Of  whose  beaute  there  as  she  was 
Spake  every  man.    And  fell  par  cas, 
That  Pirothous  so  him  spedde,     . 
That  he  to  wife  her  shulde  wedde, 
Wherof  that  he  great  joie'  made. 
And  for  he  wolde  his  love'  glade 
Ayein  the  day  of  maridgc 
By  mouthe  bothe  and  by  messdge 
His  frendes  to  the  fest  he  praid, 
With  great  worship  and  as  rnen  said 
He  hath  this  yongd  lady  spoused. 
And  whan  that  they  were  alle  housed 

,  strike  with  the  foot ;  stumble. 


And  set  and  served  atte*  mete, 
There  was   no  wine,   which   may 

begete 

That  there  ne  was  plenty  inougli. 
But  Bachus  thilke"  tonne*  drough, 
Wherof  by  way  of  dronke'ship 
The  greatest  of  the  felaship 
Were  out  of  reson  overtake, 
And  Venus,  which  hath  also  take 
The  cause*  most  in  speciall, 
Hath  yive  him  drinke*  forth  with  all 
Of  thilke  cuppe  whiche  exciteth 
The  lust  wherin  a  man  deliteth. 
And  thus  by  double  weie  drunke 
Of  lust  that  ilke*  firy  funke 1 
Hath  made  hem  as  who  saith  half 

wode,2 

That  they  no  reson  understode 
Ne  to  none  other  thing  they  seen 
But  hire*  which  to-fore  her  eyen 
Was  wedded  thilke'  same*  day ; 
That  fresshe  wife,  that  lusty  may 
Of  her  it  was  all  that  theythoughten 
And  so  ferforth  her  luste*s  soughten 
That  they  the  whichd  name"d  were 
Centauri,  at  the  feste'  there 
Of  one  assent,  of  one  accorde, 
This  yonge  wife  malgre*  her  lorde 
In  suche  a  rage  away  forth  ladden, 
As  they  which    none    insight   ne 

hadden 

But  only  to  her  drunke  fare, 
Which  many  a  man  hath  made 

misfare 

In  love  als  wel  as  other  wey. 
Wherof,  if  I  shall  more  say 
Upon  the  nature  of  this  Vice, 
Of  custume  and  of  exercise 
The  manne*s  grace  how  it  fordoth, 
A  tale,  which  was  whilom  soth 
Of  fooles  that  so  drunken  were, 
I  shall  reherce  unto  thin  ere. 
$  rcbc  in  a  cronfque  thus 
Of  Galba  and  of  Vitellius, 

I  Fvnkt,  touchwood,  spark.        2  WoJtt  mad. 


320 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  which  of  Spaine  bothe  were 

The  greatest  of  all  other  there, 

And  bothe  of  o  condition 

After  the  disposition 

Of  glotony  and  dronkeship, 

That  was  a  sory  felaship. 

For  this  thou  might  welunderstonde, 

That  man  may  nought  well  longe 

stonde 

Which  is  wine  drunkeof  comunuse, 
For  he  hath  lore  the  vertues 
Wherof  that  Resonshuldhim  clothe, 
And  that  was  sen  upon  hem  bothe. 
Men  sain  there  is  non  evidence 
Wherof  to  knowe  a  difference 
Betwene  the  drunken  and  thewode, 
For  they  ben  never  nouther  gode ; 
For  where  that  wine  doth  wit  awey 
Wisdome  hath  lost  the  righte  wey, 
That  he  no  maner  Vice  dredeth  ; 
No  more  than  a  blind  man  thredeth 
His  nedel  by  the  sonnes  light, 
No  more  is  Reson  than  of  might 
Whan  he  with  dronkeship  is  blent. 
And  in  this  point  they  weren  shent 
This  Galba  both  and  eke  Vitelle 
Upon  the  cause  as  I  shall  telle, 
Wherof  good  is  to  taken  hede. 
For  they  two  through  her  dronken- 

hede 

Of  witles  excitatidn 
Oppressed  all  the  nation 
Of  Spaine,  for  all  foul  usaunce, 
Which  done  was  of  continuaunce 
Of  hem  which  all  day  drunke  were. 
There  was  no  wife  ne  maiden  there 
What  so  they  were  or  faire  or  foule 
\Vhom  they  ne  taken  to  defoule, 
Wherof  the  lond  was  often  wo. 
And  eke  in  other  thinges  mo 
They  wroughten  many  a  sondry 

wronge. 

But  how  so  that  the  day  be  longe, 
The  derke  night  cometh  atte  last. 
God  wolde  nought  they  shulden  last, 


And  shope  the  lawe  in  suche  a  wise 
That  they  through  dome  to  the  juise 
Ben  dampned  for  to  be  forlore. 
But  they  that  hadden  be  to-fore 
Enclined  to  alle  drunkenesse, 
Her  ende  thann£  bare  witnesse ; 
For  they  in  hope  to  assuage 
The  peine  of  dethe  upon  the  rage 
That  they  the  lasse  shulden  fele, 
Of  wine  let  fill  full  a  mele 
And  drunken  till  so  was  befall 
That  they  her  strengthes  losten  all 
Withouten  wit  of  any  braine, 
And  thus  they  ben  half  dede  slaine, 
That  hem  ne  greveth  but  a  lite. 

"  My  sone,  if  thou  be  for  to  wite 
In  any  point  which  I  have  said, 
Wherof  thy  wittes  bene  unteid, 
I  rede  clepe  hem  home  ayein." — 

"I  shall  do,  fader,  as  ye  sain, 
Als  ferforth  as  I  may  suffise. 
But  well  I  wot  that  in  no  wise 
The  dronkeship  of  Love  awey 
I  may  remu^  by  no  wey, 
It  stant  nought  upon  my  fortune. 
But  if  you  liste  to  comune 
Of  the  seconde  glotony, 
Which  cleped  is  Delicacy, 
Wherof  ye  speken  here  to-fore, 
Beseche  I  wolde  you  therfore." — 

My  sone,  as  of  that  ilke  Vice 
Which  of  all  other  is  the  norice, 
And  stant  upon  the  retenue 
Of  Venus,  so  as  it  is  due, 
The  proprete  how  that  it  fareth 
The  boke  herafter  now  declareth. 

^)f  iJ)is  cfyapitve,  in  which  we 

trete, 

There  is  yet  one  of  such  diete 
To  which  no  pouer  may  atteigne, 
For  all  is  past  as  paindemaine 1 
And  sondry  wine  and  sondry  drinke 
Wherof  that  he  woll  etc  and  drinke 

1  Past  as  paindemaine,  diet  unattainable  by 
the  poor  ;  all  pastry,  as  fine  white  bread,  &c. 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


321 


His  cokes  ben  for  him  affaited, 
So  that  his  body  is  awaited 
That  him  shall  lackd  no  delite 
Als  ferforth  as  his  appetite 
Suffiseth  to  the  metes  hole. 
Wherof  the  lusty  Vice  is  hote 
Of  guld  the  Delicacy,1 
Which  all  the  hole'  progeny 
Of  lusty  folke  hath  undertake 
To  fedd  while  that  he  may  take 
Richesse,  wherof  to  be  founde. 
Of  abstinence  he  wot  no  bounde, 
To  what  profit  it  shulde  serve. 
And  yet  phisfque  of  his  conserve 
Maketh  many  a  restauracidn 
Unto  his  recreation, 
Which  woldd  be  to  Venus  lefe. 
Thus  for  the  point  of  his  relefe 
The  coke  which  shal  his  mete  array 
But  he  the  bet  his  mouth  assay 
His  lordds  thank  shall  oftd  lese 
Er  he  be  served  to  the  chese. 
For  there  may  lackd  nought  so  lite2 
That  he  ne  fint  anone  a  wite,3 
For  but  his  lust  be  fully  served 
There  hath  no  wight  his  thank  de 
served, 

And  yet  for  mannds  sustenaunce 
To  kepe  and  holde  in  governaunce 
To  him  that  woll  his  held  gete 
Is  none  so  good  as  comun  mete. 
For  who  that  loketh  on  the  bokes, 
It  saith,  confection  of  cokes 
A  man  him  shuldd  well  avise 
How  he  it  toke  and  in  what  wise. 
For  who  that  useth  that  he  knoweth 
Full  seldensiknesseonhim  groweth, 
And  who  that  useth  mete's  straunge 
Though   his   nature  empeire  and 

chaunge 

It  is  no  wonder,  levd  sone, 
Whan  that  he  doth  ayein  his  wone  4 
To  take  metes  and  drinkds  newe, 

1  Delicacy  of  the  gullet.       -  Lite,  little. 
8  Wite,  blame.  *  Wone^  custom. 


The  which  it  shulde  alwey  eschewe 
For  in  phisfque  this  I  finde, 
That  Usance  is  the  seconde  Kinde.1 
"  And  right  so  chaungeth  his 

estate 

He  that  of  Love  is  delicate, 
For  though  he  haddd  to  his  honde 
The  bestd  wife  of  all  the  londe 
Or  the  fairdstd  love  of  alle, 
Yet  wolde  his  herte  on  other  falle 
And  thinke  hem  more  delicious 
Than  he  hath  in  his  ownd  hous. 
Men  sain  it  is  now  oftd  so, 
Avise  hem  well,  that  they  so  do, 
And  for  to  speke  in  other  way 
Full  oftd  time  I  have  herd  say, 
That  he  which  hath  no  love  acheved 
Him  thenketh  that  he  is  nought 

relieved 
Though  that  his  lady  make  him 

chere, 

So  as  she  may  in  good  manere 
Her  honour  and  her  name  save, 
But  he  the  surplus  mighte  have ; 
Nothing  withstanding  her  estate, 
Of  lovd  mord  delicate, 
He  set  her  chere  at  no  delite 
But  he  have  all  his  appetite. 

"  My  sone,  if  it  with  the  be  so, 
Tell  me  ?" — "  Min  holy  fader,  no. 
For  delicate  in  such  a  wise 
Of  Love,  as  ye  to  me  devise, 
Ne  was  I  never  yet  giltife. 
For  if  I  haddd  suche  a  wife, 
As  ye  speke  of,  what  shulde  I  more  ? 
For  than  I  woldd  never  more 
For  lust  of  any  womanhede 
Min  herte  upon  none  other  fede. 
And  if  I  did,  it  were  a  waste. 
But  all  withoutd  such  repaste 
Of  lust  as  ye  me  tolde  above, 
Of  wife  or  yet  of  other  love, 
I  faste  and  may  no  fodd  gete, 
So  that  for  lack  of  deintie  mete 

1  Use  is  second  Nature. 


322 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  whiche  an  herte  may  be  fedde, 
I  go  fastende  to  my  bedde. 
But  might  I  getten  as  ye  tolde 
So  mochel  that  my  lady  wolde 
Me  fede  with  her  glad  semblaunt. 
Though  me  lacke  all  theremenaunt, 
Yet  shulde  I  somdele  ben  abeshed  l 
And  for  the  time  wel  refreshed. 
But  certes,  fader,  she  ne  doth  ; 
For  in  good  feith  to  telle"  soth 
I  trowe,  though  I  shulde  sterve, 
She  wolde  nought  her  eye  swerve 
My  herte  with  one  goodly  loke 
To  fede,  and  thus  for  such  a  coke 
I  may  go  fasting  evermo. 
But  if  so  is  that  any  wo 
May  fede  a  mannes  herte  wele, 
Therof  I  have  at  every  mele 
Of  plente  more  than  inough. 
But  that  is  of  him  self  so  tough, 
My  stomack  may  it  nought  defie.2 
Lo,  such  is  the  Delicacie 
Of  Love  which  min  herte  fedeth, 
Thus  have  I  lackeof  that  me  nedeth. 
But  for  all  this  yet  netheles, 
I  say,  I  am  nought  gilteles, 
That  I  somdele  am  delicate. 
For  die's  were  I  fully  mate 
But  if  that  I  some  lusty  stounde 
Of  comfort  and  of  esd  founde 
To  take  of  love  some  repast ; 
For  though  I  with  the  fulle  taste 
The  lust 3  of  Love  may  nought  fele, 
Min  hunger  otherwise  I  kele 
Of  smale  luste's  whiche  I  pike, 
And  for  a  timd  yet  they  like, 
If  that  ye  wisten,  what  I  mene." — 

"Now,gode  sone,shrivetheclene 
Of  suche  deinties  as  ben  good 
Wherof    thou    takest    thin    herte 
food."— 

"  My  fader,  I  you  shall  reherce, 

1  Abeshed,  astonished. 
•l  Defie,  digest. 

^  Lust,  pleasure,  in  no  bad  sense  ;  so  lusty  = 
the  German  "lustig." 


How  that  my  fodes  ben  diverse, 
So  as  they  fallen  in  degre. 
One  feding  is  of  that  I  se, 
An  other  is  of  that  I  here, 
The  thridde,  as  I  shall  tellen  here, 
It  groweth  of  min  owne  thought. 
And  elles  shulde  I  live  nought, 
For  whom  that  faileth  food  of  herte 
He  may  nought  well  the  dethe  as- 

terte. 

"  Of  sight  is  all  my  firste  food, 
Through  which  min  eye  of  alle  good 
Hath  that  to  him  is  accordaunt 
A  lusty  fode  suffisaunt. 
Whan  that  I  go  toward  the  place 
Where  I  shall  se  my  ladies  face, 
Min  eye',  whiche  is  loth  to  faste, 
Beginneth  to  hunger  anone  so  faste 
That  him  thenketh  of  an  houre  thro, 
Till  I  there  come  and  he  her  se. 
And  than  after  his  appetite 
He  taketh  a  food  of  such  delite, 
That  him  none  other  deintie  nedeth, 
Of  sondry  sightes  he  him  fedeth. 
He  seeth  her  face  of  such  colour 
That  fressher  is  than  any  flour ; 
He  seeth  her  front  is  largeandpleine 
Withoute  frounce  of  any  greine  • 
He  seeth  her  eyen  liche  an  heven; 
He  seeth  her  nase  straughte  and 

even  ; 

He  seeth  her  rudde  upon  the  cheke; 
He  seeth  her  redde'  lippe's  eke ; 
Her  chinne  accordeth  to  the  face, 
All  that  he  seeth  is  full  of  grace ; 
Heseethherneckeroundeandclene, 
Therinne'  may  no  bone  be  sene ; 
He  seethher  handesfaire  and  white, 
For  all  this  thinge  without  wite 
He  may  se  naked  atte  leste, 
So  is  it  well  the  more  feste 
And  well  the  more  delicacie 
Unto  the  feding  of  min  eye. 
He  seeth  her  shape  forth  with  all, 
Her  body  rounde,  her  middel  small, 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


323 


So  well  begone  with  good  array, 
Which  passeth  all  the  lust  of  May 
Whan  he  is  most  with  softe  shoures 
Full  clothed  in  his  lusty  floures. 
With  suche  sightes  by  and  by 
Min  eye  is  fed,  but  finally, 
Whan  he  the  port  and  the  manere 
Seeth  of  her  womanisshd  chere, 
Than  hath  he  such  delite  on  honde 
Him  thenketh  hemight  stille  stonde 
And  that  he  hath  full  suffisaunce 
Of  livelode  and  of  sustenaunce 
As  to  his  part  for  evermo. 
And  if  it  thought  all  other  so, 
Fro  thenne  wolde  he  never  wende 
But  there  unto  the  worldes  ende 
He  wolde  abide,  if  that  he  might, 
And  feden  him  upon  the  sight. 
For  though  I  mighte  stonden  ay 
Into  the  time  of  domesday 
And  loke  upon  her  ever  in  one, 
Yet  whan  1  shulde'  fro  her  gone 
Min  eye  wolde,  as  though  he  faste, 
Ben  hunger  storven  also  faste 
Till  eft  ayein  that  he  her  see, 
Such  is  the  nature  of  min  eye. 
There  is  no  lust  so  deintefull, 
Of  which  a  man  shall  nought  be  full 
Of  that  the  stomack  underfongeth, 
But  ever  in  one  min  eye  longeth ; 
For  loke, howthatagoshawktireth,1 
Right  so  doth  he,  whan  that  he  pireth 
And  toteth  on  her  womanhede, 
For  he  may  never  fully  fede 
His  lust,  but  ever  a  liche  sore 
Him  hungreth,  so  that  he  the  more 
Desireth  to  be  fed  algate. 
And  thus  min  eye  is  made  the  gate 
Through  which  the  deinties  of  my 

thought 

Of  lust  ben  to  min  hertd  brought. 
Right  as  min  eye  with  his  loke 
Is  to  min  hcrte  a  lusty  coke 

1  Tireth,  tears  and  plucks  in  feeding,  as  a 
bird  of  prey. 


Of  Love's  fode  delicate. 

Right  so  min  ere  in  his  estate, 
Whereas    min    eye    may    nought 

serve, 

Can  well  min  hertes  thank  deserve 
And  feden  him  fro  day  to  day 
With  suchd  deintes,  as  he  may. 
For  thus  it  is,  that  over  all 
Where  as  I  come  in  specidll 
I  may  here  of  my  lady  prise  : 
I  here  one  say,  that  she  is  wise ; 
An  other  saith,  that  she  is  good ; 
And  some  men  sain,  of  worthy  blood 
That  she  is  come,  and  is  also 
So  fair,  that  no  where  is  none  so ; 
And  some  men  preise  her  goodly 

chere  : 

Thus  every  thing  that  I  may  here 
Which  souneth  to  my  lady  good, 
Is  to  min  ere  a  lusty  food. 
And  eke  min  ere  hath  over  this 
A  deinty  feste,  whan  so  is 
That  I  may  here  her  selven  speke, 
For  than  anone  my  faste  I  breke 
On  suche  wordes  as  she  saith, 
That  full  of  trouth  and  full  of  feith 
They  ben,  and  of  so  good  disporte, 
That  to  min  ere  great  comfdrte 
They  done  as  they  that  ben  delices. 
For  all  the  metes  and  the  spices 
That  any  Lumbard  couthe  make 
Ne  be  so  lusty  for  to  take 
Ne  so  ferforth  restauratife 
I  say  as  for  min  owne  life, 
As  be  the  wordes  of  her  mouth. 
For  as  the  windes  of  the  south 
Ben  most  of  alld  debonaire, 
So  whan  her  list  to  spekd  faire 
The  vertue  of  her  goodly  speche 
Is  verrily  min  herte's  leche.1 
And  if  it  so  befall  amonge 
That  she  carole  upon  a  songe, 
Whan  I  it  here  I  am  so  fed 
That  I  am  fro  my  self  so  led 

1  LecAe,  physician. 


324 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


As  though  I  were  in  Paradis, 
For  certes  as  to  min  avis, 
Whan  I  here  of  her  vois  the  Steven1 
Me  thenkth  it  is  a  blisse  of  heven. 
And  eke  in  otherwise  also 
Ful  ofte  time  it  falleth  so 
Min  ere  with  a  good  pitaunce 
Is  fed  of  reding  of  romaunce 
Of  Ydoine  and  of  Amadas, 
That  whilom  weren  in  my  cas, 
And  eke  of  other  many  a  score, 
That  loveden  longe  er  I  was  bore ; 
For  whan  I  of  her  loves  rede, 
Min  ere  with  the  tale  I  fede 
And  with  the  lust  of  her  histoire. 
Somtime  I  dravve  into  memoire 
How  sorwe  may  nought  ever  last, 
And  so  cometh  hope  in  atte  last, 
Whan  I  none  other  fode  knowe. 
And  that  endureth  but  a  throwe, 
Right  as  it  were  a  chery  feste. 
But  for  to  compten  atte  lest, 
As  for  the  while  yet  it  eseth 
And  somdele  of  min  hert  appeseth. 
For  what  thing  to  min  ere  spredeth, 
Which  is  plesaunt,  somdele  it  fedeth, 
With  wordes  such  as  he  may  gete, 
My  lust  in  stede  of  other  mete. 

"  Lo  thus,  my  fader,  as  I  you  say 
Of  lust  the  which  min  eye  hath  see 
And  eke  of  that  min  ere  hath  herde, 
Full  ofte  I  have  the  better  ferde. 
And  tho  two  bringen  in  the  thridde, 
The  which  hath  in  minherteamidde 
His  place  take  to  array 
The  lusty  fode'  whiche  assay 
I  mote,  and  namelich  on  nightes, 
Whan  that  me  lacketh  alle  sightes, 
And  that  min  hering  is  awey, 
Than  is  he  redy  in  the  wey 
My  rere  souper2  for  to  make, 
Of  which  min  hertes  fode  I  take. 

"  This  lusty  cokes  "name  is  hote 

1  Steven,  voice,  sound. 
-  Rere  souper,  a  supper  after  supper  for  the 
luxurious  who  sat  up  lute. 


Thought,    which    hath    ever    his 

pottes  hote 

Of  love  boilend  on  the  fire 
With  fantasy  and  with  desire, 
Of  which  er  this  full  ofte  he  fed 
Min  herte  whan  I  was  a  bed. 
And  than  he  set  upon  my  borde 
Both  every  sight  and  every  worde 
Of  lust  which  I  have  herd  or  seen. 
But  yet  is  nought  my  fest  all  plein, 
But  all  of  woldes  and  of  wisshes 
Therof  have  I  my  fulle  disshes, 
But  as  of  feling  and  of  taste 
Yet  might  I  never  have  o  repaste. 
And  thus  as  I  have  said  a-forn, 
I  licke  hony  on  the  thorn, 
And  as  who  saith  upon  the  bridel 
I  chewe,  so  that  all  is  idel, 
As  in  effect  the  fode  I  have. 
But  as  a  man  that  wolde  him  save 
Whan  he  is  sike  by  medicine, 
Right  so  of  love  the  famine 
I  fonde  in  all  that  ever  I  may 
To  fede,  and  drive  forth  the  day 
Till  I  may  have  the  grete  fest 
Which  all  min  hunger  might  arest. 

"  Lo,  suche  ben  my  lustes  thre, 
Of  that  I  thenke.  here  and  se, 
I  take  of  love  my  feding 
Withoute  tasting  or  feling, 
And  as  the  plover  doth  of  aire 
I  live,  and  am  in  good  espeire 
That  for  no  such  delfcacy 
I  trowe  I  do  no  gloten^. 
And  netheles  to  your  avis, 
Min  holy  fader,  that  ben  wis, 
I  recommaunde  min  estate 
Of  that  I  have  ben  delicate." — 

"  My  sone,  I  understonde  wele 
That  thou  hast  told  here  every  dele, 
And  as  me  thenketh  by  thy  tale 
It  ben  delite's  wonder  smale 
Wherof  thou  takest  thy  loves  fode. 
But,  sone,  if  that  thou  understode, 
What  is  to  ben  delicious, 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


325 


Thou  woldest  nought  ben  curious 
Upon  the  lust  of  thin  estate 
To  ben  to  sord  delicate 
Wherof  that  thou  resdn  excede ; 
For  in  the  bok^s  thou  might  rede, 
If  manne's  wisdom  shall  be  sued 
It  oughte  wel  to  ben  escheued 
In  Love  als  well  as  other  way  ; 
For  as  these  haly  bokes  say, 
The  bode'ly  delices  alle 
In  every  point  how  so  they  falle 
Unto  the  soule'  done  grevaiince. 
And  for  to  take  in  remembraiince 
A  tale  accordaunt  unto  this, 
Which  of  great  understanding  is 
To  mannes  sould  resondble, 
I  thenke  tell  and  is  no  fable. 
"  ^)f  {Sristes  tt>oro  who  wol  it 

rede 

How  that  this  Vice  is  for  to  drede 
In  thevangile  it  telleth  pleine, 
Which  mote  algate*  be  certeine 
For  Crist  himself  it  bereth  witne'sse. 
And   though  the  clerke  and   the 

clergesse 

In  Latin  tunge  it  rede  and  singe 
Yet  for  the  more*  knoulechinge 
Of  trouthe',  which  is  good  to  wite, 
I  shal  declare  as  it  is  write 
In  English,  for  thus  it  began. 
"  §rtet  saiif) :    There   was   a 

richd  man, 

A  mighty  lord  of  great  estate, 
And  he  was  eke  so  delicate 
Of  his  clothfng  that  every  day 
Of  purpure  and  bisse1  he   made 

him  gay 

And  etc  and  drank  therto  his  fill 
After  the  lustes  of  his  will 
As  he  which  all  stode  in  delice 
And  toke  none  hede  of  thilke  Vice. 
And  as  it  shulde  so  betide, 
A  pouer  lazer  upon  a  tide 
Came  to  the  gate  and  axe*d  mete. 

1  Bisse,  finest  linen. 


But  there*  might  he  nothing  gete 
His  dedely  hunger  for  to  staunche, 
For  he  which  had  his  fulle*  paunche 
Of  alld  lusted  atte*  borde 
Nedeigneth  nought  tospekeaworde 
Onlich  a  crumme*  for  to  yive 
\Vherof  the  pouer  might^  live 
Upon  the  yift  of  his  almesse. 
Thus  lay  this  pouer  in  great  distresse 
A  colde  and  hungry  at  the  gate, 
Fro  which  he  mighte*  go  no  gate 
So  was  he  wofully  besene. 
And  as  these  haly  boke*s  sain, 
The  hounde's  comen  fro  the  halle, 
Where  that  this  sike  man  was  falle, 
And  as  he  lay  there  for  to  deie, 
The  woundes  of  his  malady 
They  licken,  for  to  done  him  ese. 
But  he  was  full  of  such  disese 
That  he  may  nought  thedeth  escape. 
But  as  it  was  that  time*  shape 
The  soule  fro  the  body  passeth, 
And  he  whom  nothing  overpasseth, 
The  highe"  God  up  to  the  heven 
Him  toke,  where  he  hath  set  him 

even 

In  Abrahame*s  barme1  on  high, 
Where  he  the  hevens  joie*  sigh 
And  had  all  that  he  have*  wolde. 
And  fell  as  it  befalle"  sholde, 
This  richd  man  the  same  throwe 
With  sodein  deth  was  overthrowe 
And  forth  withouten  any  went 2 
Unto  the  helle  straught  he  went, 
The  fende  into  the  fire  him  drough 
Where  that  he  haddd  peine  inough 
Of  flame'  which  that  ever  brenneth. 
And  as  his  eye  aboute'  renneth, 
Toward  the  heven  he  cast  his  loke. 
Where  that  he  sigh  and  nede*  toke 
How  Lazar  set  was  in  his  see 
Als  fer  as  ever  he  mighte*  see 
With  Abraham,  and  than  he  praide 
Unto  the  patriarch  and  saide  : 

i  Barme,  bosom.  *  Went,  turning. 


326 


CONFESS  10  A  MANTIS. 


'  Send  Lazar  down  fro  thilke  sete 
And  do  that  he  his  finger  wete 
In  water,  so  that  he  may  droppe 
Upon  my  tunge  for  to  stoppe 
The  grete  hete  in  which  I  brenne.' 
But  Abraham  answerde  thenne 
And  saide  to  him  in  this  wise  : 

'  My  sone,  thou  the  might  avise 
And  take  into  thy  remembraunce 
How  Lazar  hadde  great  penaunce 
While  he  was  in  that  other  life. 
But  thou  in  all  thy  lust  jolife 
The  bodely  delices  soughtest, 
Forth^  so  as  thou  thanne  wroughtest, 
Now  shalt  thou  take  thy  rewarde 
Of  dedely  peine  here  afterwarde 
In  helle,  which  shall  ever  last. 
And  this  Lazar  now  atte  last 
This  worldes  peine  is  overronne, 
In  heven  and  hath  his  life  begonne 
Of  joie  which  is  endeles. 
But  that  thou  praiest  netheles, 
That  I  shall  Lazar  to  the  sende 
With  water  on  his  finger  ende 
Thine  hote  tunge  for  to  kele, 
Thou  shalt  no  suche  graces  fele, 
For  to  that  foule  place  of  sinne 
For  ever  in  which  thou  shalt  ben 

inne, 

Cometh  none  out  of  this  place  thider 
Ne  none  of  you  may  comen  hider, 
Thus  be  ye  parted  now  a-two.' 
The  rich  ayeinward  cridd  tho  : 
*  O  Abraham,  sithe  it  so  is, 
That  Lazar  may  nought  do  me  this 
Whiche  I  have  axed  in  this  place, 
I  wolde  pray  an  other  grace. 
For  I  have  yet  of  bretherne  five 
That  with  my  fader  ben  a-live 
To-gider  dwellend  in  one  hous, 
To  whom,  as  thou  art  gracious, 
I  praie,  that  thou  woldest  sende 
Lazar,  so  that  he  mighte  wende 
To  warne  hem  how  the  woiide  is 

went, 


That  afterward  they  be  nought  shent 
Of  suche  peines  as  they  deie. 
Lo,  this  I  praie  and  this  I  crie. 
How  I  maynought  myself  amende.' 
The  patriarche  anone  suende 
To  this  praier  answerde  :  *  Nay/ 
And  saide  him,  how  that  every  day 
His  bretheren  mighten  knowe  and 

here 

Of  Moises  on  erthe  here 
And  of  prophetes  other  mo, 
What    hem    was    best.       And    he 

saith  :    '  No, 

But  if  there  might  a  man  arise 
From  deth  to  life  in  suche  a  wise 
To  tellen  hem  how  that  it  were,' 
He  saide,  '  than  of  pure  fere 
They  shulden  well  beware  therby.' 
Quod  Abraham  :   'Nay  sikerly, 
For  if  they  now  will  nought  obey 
To  such  as  techen  hem  the  wey 
And  all  day  preche  and  all  day  telle 
Howthat  it  stant  of  heven  and  helle, 
They  wollnought  thanne'  taken  hede 
Though  it  befelle  so  in  dede 
That  any  dede  man  were  arered, 
To  ben  of  him  no  better  lered 
Than  of  an  other  man  alive.' 

"  If  thou,  my  sone.  canst  descrive 
This  tale,  as  Crist  him  self  it  tolde, 
Thou  shalt  have  cause  to  beholde 
To  se  so  great  an  evidence, 
Wherof  the  sothe  experience 
Hath  shewed  openlich  at  eye, 
That  bodely  delicac^ 
Of  him  which  yiveth  none  almesse, 
Shall  after  falle  in  great  distresse. 
And  that  was  sene  upon  the  riche, 
For  he  ne  wolde  unto  his  liche 
A  crumme  yiven  of  his  brede, 
Than  afterward  whan  he  was  dede 
A  droppe  of  water  him  was  werned.1 
Thus  may  a  mannes  wit  be  lerned 
Of  hem  that  so  delites  taken 

1  IJ'i-rnetl,  denied. 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


327 


Whan  they  with  deth  ben  overtaken, 
That  erst  was  swete  isthanne  sourc. 
But  he  that  is  a  governour 
Of  worldds  good,  if  he  be  wise, 
Within  his  herte  he  set  no  prise 
Of  all  the  worlde,  and  yet  he  useth 
The  good  that  he  nothing  refuseth, 
As  he  which  lord  is  of  the  thinges, 
The  ouches  and  the  riche  ringes, 
The  cloth  of  gold  and  the  perrie 
He  taketh,  and  yet  delicacie 
He  leveth  though  he  wear  all  this. 
The  beste  metd  that  there  is 
He  eteth,  and  drinketh  the  beste 

drinke, 

But  how  that  ever  he  etc  or  drinke 
Delicacie'  he  put  awey 
As  he  which  goth  the  rightd  wey 
Nought  only  for  to  fede  and  clothe 
His  body,  but  his  soule  bothe. 
But  they  that  taken  other  wise 
Her  lustes,  ben  none  of  the  wise, 
And  that  whilom  was  shewed  eke, 
If  thou  these  olde  bok^s  seke. 
"  That  man  that  wolde  him  well 

a  vise, 

Delfcacy  is  to  despise 
Whan    Kinde    accordeth    nought 

withall, 

Wherof  ensample  in  speciall 
$f  1?lcro  n>f)Uom  may  be  tolde, 
Whiche  ayein  kindd  manifolde 
His  taste's  toke,  till  attd  last, 
That  God  him  wolde  all  overcast, 
Of  whom  the  cronique  is  so  plein, 
Me  lust  no  more  of  him  to  sain. 
And  nethe'les  for  glotony 
Of  bode'ly  delfcac^ 
To  knowe  his  stomack  how  it  ferde, 
Of  that  no  man  to-ford  herde 
Whichhe  within  him  self  bethought, 
A  wonder  subtil  thing  he  wrought. 
Thre  men  upon  election 
Of  age  and  of  complexion 
Lich  to  him  self  by  alld  way 


He  toke  toward<5s  him  to  play, 
And  ete  and  dranke  as  well  as  he, 
Therof  was  no  diversity 
For  every  day  whan  that  they  ete 
To-fore  his  ownd  bord  they  sete, 
And  of  such  mete  as  he  was  served, 
All  though  they  had  it  nought  de 
served, 

They  token  service  of  the  same. 
But  afterward  all  thilke'  game 
Was  into  wofull  ernest  torned. 
For  whan  they  werd  thus  soj6rned, 
Within  a  time  at  after-mete 
Nero,  which  hadde  nought  forycte 
The  lustes  of  his  frele  estate, 
As  he  which  all  was  delicate 
To  knowe  thilke  experience, 
The  men  let  come  in  his  presence. 
And  to  that  one  the  samd  tide 
A  courser  that  he  shoUte  ride 
Into  the  felde  anone  he  bad, 
Wherof  this  man  was  wonder  glad 
And  goth  to  pricke  and  praunce 

about. 

That  other,  while  that  he  was  out, 
He  laide  upon  his  bed  to  slepe. 
The  thridde,  which  he  wolde  kepe 
Within  his  chambre  faire  and  softe, 
He  goth  now  up  now  down  ful  ofte, 
Walkdnd  apace,  that  he  ne  slepte 
Till  he  which  on  the  courser  lepte, 
Was  comen  fro  the  felcle  ayein. 
Nero  than,  as  the  bokds  sain, 
These  men  did  done  take  alle  thre 
And  slough  hem  for  he  wolde*  se 
The    whose     stomdck    was    best 

defied.1 

And  whan  he  hath  the  soth^  tried, 
He  found  that  he  which  goth  the  pas 
Defied  best  of  alle*  was, 
Which  afterward  he  used  ay. 
And  thus  what  thing  unto  his  pay 
Was  most  plessint,  he  leftd  none ; 
With  every  lust  he  was  begone 

1  Wat  defied,  had  digested. 


328 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Wherof  the  body  mightd  glade, 
For  he  no  abstinence  made  ; 
But  althermost  of  erthly  thinges 
Of  women  unto  the  likinges 
Nero  set  all  his  hole  herte, 
For  that  lust   shuld   him  nought 

asterte. 
Whan  that  the  thurst  of  love  him 

caught 
Where   that    him   list  he  toke  a 

draught, 

He  spareth  nouther  wife  ne  maide, 
That  such  another,  as  men  saide, 
In  all  this  world  was  never  yit. 
He  was  so  drunke  in  all  his  wit 
Through  sondry  lustes  which  he 

toke, 

That  ever  while  there  is  a  boke 
Of  Nero  men  shall  rede  and  sing 
Unto  the  worldes  knouleching. 
"  My  gode  sone,  as  thou  hast 

herde, 

For  ever  yet  it  hath  so  ferde, 
Delicacy  in  Loves  cas 
Without^  reson  is  and  was. 
For  where  that  love  his  herte  set 
Him  thenketh  it  might  be  no  bet, 
All  though  it  be  nought  fully  mete 
The  luste  of  love  is  ever  swete. 
Lo,  thus  to-gider  of  felaship, 
Delicacy  and  dronkeship, 
Wherof  Reson  stant  out  of  herre,1 
Havemadefull  many  a  wiseman  erre 
In  Loves  cause  most  of  all. 
For  than  how  so  that  ever  it  fall 
Wit  can  no  reson  understonde, 
But  let  the  governaunce  stonde 
To  Will,  which  thanne*  wexeth  so 

wilde 

That  he  can  nought  him  sel  ven  sh  ilde 
Fro  the  perill,  but  out  of  fere 
The  way  he  secheth  here  and  there, 
Him  reccheth  nought-  upon  what 

side, 

1  Out  of  herre,  off  its  hinges. 


For  ofte  time  he  goth  beside 
And  doth  such  thing  withoute  drede, 
Wherof  him  oughte  wel  to  drede. 
But  whan  that  Love  assoteth  sore, 
It  passeth  alle  mennes  lore, 
What  lust  it  is  that  he  ordeigneth 
There    is    no    mannes    might   re- 

streigneth, 

And  of  God  taketh  he  none  hede, 
But  laweles  withoute  drede, 
His  purpos  for  he  wolde  acheve, 
Ayein  the  points  of  the  beleve 
He  tempteth  heven,  erth  and  helle, 
Here  afterward  as  I  shall  telle. 
"  Who  dare  do  thing,  which  Love 

ne  dare  ? 

To  Love  is  every  lawe  unware, 
But  to  the  lawes  of  his  hest 
The  fissh,  the  fowl,  the  man,  the  beste 
Of  all  the  worldes  kinde  louteth. 
For    Love    is   he   which    nothing 

doubteth,1 

In  mannes  herte  where  he  sit 
He  compteth  nought  toward  his  wit 
The  wo  no  mor£  than  the  wele, 
No  more  the  hetd  than  the  chele, 
No  more  the  wete  than  the  drie, 
No  more  to  live  than  to  deie, 
So  that  to-fore  ne  behinde 
He  seeth  no  thing  but  as  the  blinde. 
Withoute  insight  of  his  cordge 
He  doth  merveiles  in  his  rage 
To  what  thing  that   he  wol   him 

drawe. 

There  is  no  God,  there  is  no  lawe 
Of  whom  that  he  taketh  any  hede, 
But  as  Baydrd  the  blinde  stede 
Till  he  falle  in  the  dicche  a  midde 
He  goth  there  no  man  will  him  bidde, 
He  stant  so  ferforth  out  of  reule, 
There  is  no  wit  that  may  him  reule. 
And  thus  to  tell  of  him  in  soth, 
Full  many  a  wonder  thing  he  doth, 
That  were  better  to  be  Lift, 

1  Doubteth,  feareth. 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


329 


Among  the  whiche  is  wicchd  craft, 
That  some  men  clepen  sorcery, 
Which  for  to  winne  his  druery" l 
With   many  a   circumstaunce   he 

useth, 

There  is  no  point  which  he  refuseth. 
Tlie  craft,  which  that  Saturnus  fonde, 
To  makd  prickes  in  the  sonde, 
That  geomauncd  clepdd  is, 
Ful  oft  he  useth  it  amis ; 
And  of  the  flood  his  ydromaiince  ; 
And  of  the  fire  the  piromaunce  : 
With  questions  echone  of  tho 
He  tempteth  ofte,  and  eke  also 
Aeromaunce  in  jugdment 
To  Love  he  bringeth  of  his  assent. 
For  these  craftds  as  I  finde 
A  man  may  do  by  way  of  kinde 
Be  so  it  be  to  good  entent. 
But  he  goeth  all  other  went,2 
For  rather  er  he  shuldd  faile 
With  nigromaunce  he  wolde  assaile 
To  make  his  incantaci6n 
With  hote  subfumigacion, 
Thilke  art  which  specular  3  is  hote 
And  used  is  of  comun  rote 
Among  paidns  which  that  craft  eke,4 
Of  whiche  is  auctorThosztheGreke, 
He  wercheth  one  and  one  by  rowe. 
Razel  is  nought  to  him  unknowe, 
The  Salomonds  Candary, 
His  Ydeac,  his  Eutony, 
The  figure  and  the  boke  withall 
Of  Balamuz  and  of  Ghenball, 
The  scale  and  therupon  thymage 
Of  Thebith  for  his  avauntage 
Hetaketh,and  somewhat  of  Gibere, 
Which  helplich  is  to  this  matere. 
Babylla  to  her  sonds  seven 
Which  hath  renounced  totheheven, 

1  Druery,  love. 

2  Went,  turning,  cross  way. 

:{  Specular,  miswritten  "spatula"  in  MS. 
The  chapter  "  De  Speculatoria  "  follows  that 
on  Geomancyin  Cornelius  Agrippa,  "  De  Vani- 
tate  Scientiarum." 

*  Eke,  increase,  extend. 


With    Germ's    bothc    square   and 

rounde, 

He  traceth  ofte  upon  the  grounde, 
Makdnd  his  invocation. 
And  for  full  dnformati6n 
The  scold,  which  Honorius 
Wrote,  he  pursueth.     And  lo,  thus 
Magique  he  useth  for  to  winne 
His  love,  and  spareth  for  no  sinnc. 
And  over  that  of  his  soty 
Right  as  he  secheth  sorcery 
Of  hem  that  ben  magicians, 
Right  so  of  the  naturidns 
Upon  the  sterrds  from  above 
His  wey  he  secheth  unto  love 
Als  fer  as  he  hem  understondeth. 
In  many  a  sondry  wise  he  fondeth, 
He    maketh    ymage,    he    maketh 

sculpture, 
He    maketh    writfng,   he   maketh 

figure, 

He  maketh  his  calculati6ns, 
He  maketh  his  demonstrations, 
His  hours  of  astronomy 
He  kepeth  as  for  that  party 
Which  longeth  to  the  inspectidn 
Of  love  and  his  affection, 
He  wolde  into  the  helld  seche 
The  devel  him  selvd  to  beseche 
If  that  he  wiste  for  to  spede 
To  gete  of  love  his  lusty  mede. 
Where  that  he  hath  hi?  hertd  set 
He  biddd  never  fare  bet, 
Ne  wit  of  other  heven  more. 
My  sone,  if  thou  of  such  a  lore 
Hast  ben  er  this,  I  rede  the  leve." — 
"Min  holy  fader,  by  your  leve 
Of  all  that  ye  have  spoken  here 
Which  toucheth  unto  this  matere, 
To  telld  soth  right  as  I  wene, 
I  wot  nought  o  word  what  ye  mene. 
I  woll  nought  say  if  that  1  couth 
That  I  nolde  in  my  lusty  youth 
Beneth  in  helle  and  eke  above 
To  winnd  with  my  ladies  love 


33° 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Done  al  that  ever  that  I  might. 
For  therof  have  I  none  insight 
Where  afterward  that  I  become 
So  that  I  wonne  and  overcome 
Her  love  which  I  most  coveite." — 
"  My   sone,   that    goth    wonder 

streite. 

For  this  I  may  well  telle  soth, 
There  is  no  man  the  which  so  doth 
For  all  the  craft  that  he  can  caste, 
That  he  ne  bieth  it  atte  laste. 
For  often  he  that  will  beguile 
Is  guiled  with  the  same  guile, 
And  thus  the  guiler  is  beguiled, 
As  I  rinde  in  a  boke  compiled 
To  this  matere  an  olde  histoire, 
The    which    comth    now    to    my 

memoire 

And  is  of  great  ensemplary 
Ayein  the  vice  of  sorcery, 
Wherof  none  ende  may  be  good. 
But  how  whilom  therof  it  stood, 
A  tale  which  is  good  to  knowe 
To  the,  my  sone,  I  shall  beknowe. 
JltttOttCf  I)em,  which  at  Troie 

were, 

Ulixes  at  the  siege  there 
Was  one  by  name  in  specidll 
Of  whom  yet  the  memoridll 
Abit,  for  while  there  is  a  mouth e 
For  ever  his  name  shall  be  couthe. 
He  was  a  worthy  knight  and  king 
And  clerk  knowend  of  every  thing, 
He  was  a  great  rethorien, 
He  was  a  great  magicien  ; 
Of  Tullius  the  rethorique, 
Of  king  Zorastes  the  magique, 
Of  Tholome  thastronomy, 
Of  Plato  the  philosophy, 
Of  Daniel  the  slepy  dremes, 
Of  Neptune  eke  the  water  stremes, 
Of  Salomon  and  the  proverbes, 
Of  Macer  all  the  strength  of  herbes, 
And  the  phisique  of  Ypocras, 
And  lich  unto  Pithagoras 


Of  surgery  he  knew  the  cures. 
But  some  what  of  his  aventiires. 
Which  shall  to  my  matere  accordc, 
To  the,  my  sone,  I  will  recorde. 
"  This  king,  of  which  thou  hast 

herd  sain, 

From  Troy  as  he  goth  home  ayein 
By  ship,  he  found  the  see  diverse 
With  many  a  windy  storm  reverse. 
But  he  through  wisdom  which  he 

shapeth 

Ful  many  a  great  peril  escapeth, 
Of  whiche  I  thenke  tellen  one, 
Howthat  malgrethenedeland  stone 
Wind-drive  he  was  all  sodeinly 
Upon  the  strondes  of  Cilly, 
Where  that  he  must  abide  a  while. 
Twey  quenes  weren  in  that  ile 
Calipso  named  and  Circes. 
And  whan  they  herde,  how  Ulixes 
Is  londed  there  upon  the  rive, 
For  him  they  senden  also  blive.1 
With  him  such  as  he  wolde  he  nam 
And  to  the  court  to  hem  he  cam. 
Thesequenes  wereas  two  goddesses 
Of  art  magique*  sorceresses, 
That  what  lord  come  to  that  rivage, 
They  make  him  love  in  such  a  rage 
And  upon  hem  assote  so, 
That  they  woll  have,  er  that  he  go, 
All  that  he  hath  of  worldes  good. 
Ulixes  well  this  understood, 
They  couthe  moch,  he  couthe  more. 
They  shape  and  cast  ayein  him  sore 
And  wrought  many  a  subtil  wile 
But  yet  they  might    him  nought 

beguile  ; 

But  of  the  men  of  his  navie 
They  two  forshope  2  a  great  partie, 
May  none  of  hem  withstonde  her 

hestes  : 

Some  part  they  shopen  into  bestes, 
Some  part  they  shopen  into  foules, 

1  Rive,  shore  ;  also  blive,  very  quickly ;  nam, 
took. 

2  Those  two  (queens)  transformed. 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


33  < 


To  beres,  tigres,  ape's,  oules, 
Or  elles  by  some  other  wey, 
Ther  might  no  thfng  hem  disobey, 
Such  craft  they  had  abovd  kinde. 
But  that  art  couthe  they  nought  finde 
Of  which  Ulixes  was  deceived, 
That  he  ne  hath  hem  alle  weived 
And  brought  hem  into  such  a  rote  l 
That  upon  him  they  bothe  assote. 
And  through  the  science  of  his  arte 
He  toke  of  hem  so  well  his  parte 
That  he  begat  Circes  with  childe, 
He  kepte  him  sobre  and  made  hem 

wilde, 

He  set  him  selve  so  above 
That  with  her  good  and  with  her  love, 
Who  that  therof  be  leve  or  loth, 
All  quite  into  his  ship  he  goth. 
Circes  to-swolle  bothd  sides 
He  left,  and  waiteth  on  the  tides, 
And  straught  throughout  the  saltd 

fome 
He  taketh  his  cours  and  comth  him 

home, 

Where  as  he  found  Penelope', 
A  better  wife  there  may  none  be, 
And  yet  there  ben  inough  of  good. 
But  who  her  gooolship  understood 
Fro  first  that  she  wifehode'  toke, 
How  many  love's  she  forsoke 
And  how  she  bare  her  all  about 
Therewhile's  that  her  lord  was  out, 
He  mighte*  make  a  great  avaunt, 
Amonges  all  the  remenaunt, 
That  she  was  one  of  all  the  best. 
Well  might  he  set  his  herte  in  rest, 
This  king,  whan  he  her  founde  in 

hele. 

For  as  he  couthe  in  wisdom  dele, 
So  couthe*  she  in  womanhede. 
And  whan  she  sigh  withouten  drede 
Her  lord  upon  his  ownd  grounde, 
That  he  was  comd  sauf  and  sounde, 

1  Rott,  practice ;  routine,  as  in  the  phrase 
' '  repeat  by  rote." 


In  all  this  world  ne  mighte  be 
A  gladder  woman  than  was  she. 
"  The  famd  which  may  nought 

be  hid 

Throughout  the  londe  is  sone'  kid, 
Her  king  is  comen  home  ayein ; 
There  may  no  man  the  fulld  sain 
How  that  they  weren  alld  glad 
So  mochel  joy  of  him  they  made  ; 
The  presents  every  day  be  newcii, 
He  was  with  yiftes  nil  besnewed, 
The  people  was  of  him  so  glad 
That  though  none  other  man  hem 

bad 

Taillage  upon  hem  self  they  sette, 
And  as  it  were  of  pure  dette 
They  yive  her  goode's  to  the  king. 
This  was  a  glad  home  welcoming. 
'  *  Thus  hath  U  lixes  what  he  wolde, 
His  wife  was  such  as  she  be  sholde, 
His  people  was  to  him  subgite, 
Him  lacketh  nothing  of  delite. 

"  But  Fortune  is  of  such  a  fleight 
That  whan  a  man  is  most  on  height 
She  maketh  him  rathest  for  to  fallc, 
There  wot  no  man  what  shall  befalle. 
The  nappe's  over  mannds  hede 
Ben  honge*  with  a  tender  threde ; 
That  proved  was  on  Ulixe's, 
For  whan  he  was  most  in  his  pees 
Fortune'  gan  to  make  him  \\erre 
And  set  his  welthe  al  out  of  herre. 
Upon  a  day  as  he  was  mery, 
As  though  there  might  him  no  thing 

dery,i 
Whan  night  was  come  he  goth  to 

bedde, 
With    slepe    and    both    his    eyen. 

fedde. 

And  while  he  slept  he  met  a  sweven. 
Him  thought  he  sigh  a  statue  even 
Which  brighter  than  the  sonnd 

shone. 
A  man  it  seme'd  was  it  none, 

1  Dery,  hurt. 


332 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  yet  it  was  as  in  figure 
Most  lich  to  mannes  creature. 
But  as  of  beaute  hevenlich 
It  was  most  to  an  aungel  lich, 
And  thus  betwene  aungel  and  man 
Beholden  it  this  king  began, 
And  suche  a  lust  toke  of  the  sight, 
That  fain  he  wolde,  if  that  he  might, 
The  forme  of  that  figure  embrace. 
And  goth  him  forth  toward  that 

place 

Where  he  sigh  that  ymage  tho, 
And  takth  it  in  his  armes  two 
And  it  embraceth  him  ayein 
And  to  the  king  thus  gan  it  sain  : 

'  Ulixes,  understond  wel  this, 
The  token  of  our  acqueintaunce  is 
Here  afterward  to  mochel  tene ; 
The  love  that  is  us  betwene, 
Of  that  we  now  such  joie  make, 
That  one  of  us  the  deth  shall  take, 
Whan  time  cometh  of  destine, 
It  may  none  otherwise  be.' 
Ulixes  tho  began  to  pray 
That  this  figure  wolde  him  say 
What  wight  he  is,  that  saith  him  so. 
This  wight  upon  a  spere  tho 
A  pensel l  which  was  well  begone 
Embrouded,  sheweth  him  anone, 
Thre  fisshes  all  of  o  colour 
In  maner  as  it  were  a  toure 
Upon  the  pensel  were  wrought. 
Ulixes  knew  this  token  nought 
And  praith  to  wite,  in  some  partie, 
What  thinge  it  mighte  signifie. 
'  A  signe  it  is/  the  wight  answerde, 
'  Of  an  empire  ; '  and  forth  he  ferde 
All  sodeinly,  whan  he  that  said. 

"  Ulixes  out  of  slepe  abraid, 
And  that  was  right  ayein  the  day, 
That  lenger  slepen  he  ne  may. 
Men  sain,  a  man  hath  knouleching 
Save  of  him  self  of  alld  thing  ; 

1  Pensel,,  a  small   banner   hanging  from  a 
lance. 


His  owne  chaunce  noman  knoweth, 
But  as  Fortune  it  on  him  throweth. 
Was  never  yet  so  wise  a  clerk, 
Which  mighte  knowe  all  Goddes 

werk, 

Ne  the  secret  which  God  hath  sette 
Ayein  a  man  may  nought  be  lette. 
Ulixes  though  that  he  be  wise, 
With  all  his  wit  in  his  avise 
The  more  that  he  his  sweven  ac- 

compteth 

The  lasse  he  wot  what  it  amounteth. 
For  all  his  calculatidn 
He  seeth  no  demonstration 
As  pleinly  for  to  knowe  an  ende. 
But  netheles,  how  so  it  wende, 
He  drad  him  of  his  owne  sone ; 
That  maketh  him  well  the  more 

astone 

And  shope  therfore  anone  withall 
So  that  withinne  castell  wall 
Thelemachum  his  sone  he  shette 
And  upon  him  strong  warde  he  sette. 
The  sothe  further  he  ne  knewe, 
Till  that  Fortune  him  overthrewe. 
But  netheles  for  sikernesse, 
Where  that  he  mighte  wit  and  gesse 
A  place  strongest  in  his  londe, 
There  let  he  make  of  lime  andsonde 
A  strengthe  where  he  wolde  dwelle, 
Was  never  man  yet  herde  telle 
Of  suche  an  other  as  it  was. 
And  for  to  strength  him  in  that  cas 
Of  all  his  lond  the  sikerest 
Of  servants  and  the  worthiest 
To  kepen  him  withinne  warde 
He  set  his  body  for  to  warde  ; 
And  made  such  an  ordenaunce 
For  love,  ne  for  dqueintaunce, 
That  were  it  erely  were  it  late 
They  shulde  let  in  at  the  gate 
No  maner  man,  what  so  betid, 
But  if  so  were  him  self  it  bid. 
"  But  all  that  might  him  nought 

availe, 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


333 


For  whom  Fortune*  wol  assaile 
There  may  be  no  such  re'siste'nce 
Which  mighte'  make  a  man  defence, 
All  that  shall  be,  mot  fall  algate. 
This  Circes  whiche  I  spake  of  late, 
On  whom  Ulixes  hath  begete 
A  child,  though  he  it  have  foryete, 
Whan  time  came,  as  it  was  wone, 
She  was  deliverd  of  a  sone, 
Which  cleped  is  Thelogonus. 
This  child  whan  he  was  bore  thus 
About  his  moder  to  full  age 
That  he  can  reson  and  langa"ge 
In  good  estate  was  dra\ve  forth. 
And  whan  he  was  so  mochel  worth 
To  stonden  in  a  manne's  stede, 
Circes  his  mother  hath  him  bede, 
That  he  shall  to  his  fader  go 
And  told  him  all  to-gider  tho 
What  man  he  was  that  him  begat. 
And  whan  Thelogonus  of  that 
Was  ware,  and  hathfull  knouleching 
How  that  his  fader  was  a  king, 
He  praith  his  moder  faire  this 
To  go  where  that  his  fader  is. 
And  she  him  graunteth  that  he  shall, 
And  made  him  redy  forth  with  all. 
11  It  was  that  time  such  usaunce, 
That  every  man  the  conoissaunce 
Of  his  contre  bare  in  his  honde, 
Whan  he  went  into  straunge  londe. 
And  thus  was  every  man  therfore 
Wei  knowd,  where  that  he  was  bore, 
For  espidll  and  mistrowinges 
They  dide*  thanne'  suche  thinges 
That  every  man  might  other  knowe. 
So  it  befell  that  ilke  throwe 
Thelogonus,  as  in  this  cas, 
Of  his  contrd  the  signd  was 
Thre  fisshes,  which  he  shuldd  bere 
Upon  the  penon  of  a  spere. 
And  whan  that  he  was  thus  arraied 
And  hath  his  harneis  all  assaied, 
That  he  was  redy  every  dele, 
His  moder  bad  him  fard  wele 


And    said    him,    that    he    shulde 

swithe l 

His  fader  grete  a  thousand  sithe. 
Thelogonus  his  moder  kist 
And  toke  his  leve,  and  where  he  wist 
His  fader  was,  the  waie  name, 
Till  he  unto  Nachaie'  came, 
Which  of  that  lond  the  chefe  citee 
Was  cleped,  and  there  axeth  he 
Where  was  the  kinge  and  how  he 

ferde. 

And  whan  that  he  the  sothe  herde, 
Where  that  the  king  Ulixes  was, 
Alone  upon  his  hors  great  pas 
He  rode  him  forth,  and  in  his  honde 
He  bare  the  signal  of  his  londe 
With  fisshes  thre,  as  I  have  tolde, 
And  thus  he  went  unto  that  holde 
Where  that  his  owne  fader  dwelleth. 
The  causd  why  he  comth,  he  telleth 
Unto  the  kepers  of  the  gate, 
And  wolde  have  comen  in  there  at, 
But  shortly  they  him  saide  nay. 
And  he  als  faire  as  ever  he  may 
Besought  and  tolde  hem  of  this, 
How  that  the  king  his  fader  is. 
But  they  with  proude  wordes  great 
Began  to  manace  and  to  threte 
But 2  he  go  fro  the  gate*  fast 
They  wolde  him  take  and  sette  fast. 
Fro  worde's  unto  stroke's  thus 
They  felle,  and  so  Thelogonus 
Was  sore*  hurte  and  well  nigh  dede, 
But  with  his  sharpd  sperds  hede 
He  maketh  defence,  how  so  it  falle, 
And  wan  the  gate  upon  hem  alle 
And  hath  slain  of  the  bestd  five. 
And  they  ascriden  also  blive 
Through  out  the  castell  all  about ; 
On  every  side*  men  come  out, 
Wherof  the  kingds  herte  afflight, 
And  he  with  all  the  hast  he  might 
A  sperd  caught  and  forth  he  goth 
As  he  that  was  nigh  wode  for  wroth. 


1  Switke,  strongly. 


-  But,  unless. 


334 


CONFESSIO  AMAXTIS. 


He  sigh  the  gates  full  of  blood, 
Thelogonus  and  where  he  stood 
He  sigh  also,  but  he  ne  knewe 
What  man  it  was,  but  to  him  threwe 
His  spere,  and  he  sterte  out  a  side, 
But  destine  which  shall  betide, 
Befell  that  ilke  time  so, 
Thelogonus  knew  nothing  tho 
What  man  it  was  that  to  him  caste, 
And  while  his  owne  spere  laste, 
With  all  the  signe  thenipon, 
He  cast  unto  the  kinge  anon 
And  smot  him  with  a  dedly  wounde. 
Ulixes  fell  anone  to  grounde, 
Tho  even-  man,  *  The  long  !  the 

king:' 

Began  to  cry,  and  of  this  thing 
Thelogonus  which  sigh  the  cas 
On  knes  he  fell  and  saide :  '  Alas, 
I  have  min  owne  fader  slam  ! 
Now  wolde  I  deie  wonder  fain, 
Now  sle  me  who  that  ever  will, 
For  certes  it  is  right  good  skill.' 1 
He  crieth,  he  wepeth,  he  saith  ther- 

fore: 

*  Alas,  that  ever  was  I  bore, 
That  this  unhappy  destine 
So  wofully  comth  in  by  me  !  * 
This  king,  which  yet  hath  life  inough, 
His  herte  ayein  to  him  he  drough 
And  to  that  vois  an  ere  he  laide 
And  understood  all  that  he  saide 
And  gan  to  speke  and  saide  on 

high: 
'  Bring  me  this  man.'     And  whan 

he  sigh 

Thelogonus,  his  though  he  sette 
Upon  the  sweven  which  he  mette,2 
And  axeth,  that  he  mighte  se 
His  spere,  on  which  the  fisshes  thre 
He  sigh  upon  the  pensel  wrought. 
Tho  wist  he  well,  it  faileth  nought, 
And  bad  him  that  he  telle  sholde 


Fro  whenne  he  came  and  what  he 

wolde. 

Thelogonus  in  sorwe  and  wo 
So  as  he  mighte  tolde  tho 
Unto  Ulixes  all  the  cas, 
How  that  Circes  his  moder  was. 
And  so  forth  said  him  every  dele, 
How  that  his  moder  grete  him  wele, 
And  in  what  wise  she  him  sent. 
Tho  wist  Ulixes  what  it  ment, 
And  toke  him  in  his  armes  softe 
And  all  bledende  kist  him  ofte 
And  saide  :  *  Sone,  while  I  live, 
This  infortune  I  the  foryive.' 
After  his  other  sone  in  hast 
He  send,  and  he  began  him  hast 
And  cam  unto  his  fader  tite. 
But  whan  he  sigh  him  in  such  plite, 
He  wold  have   ronne   upon   that 

other 

Anone  and  slain  his  owne  brother, 
Ne  hadde  be  that  Ulixes 
Betwene  hem  made  accorde  and 

pees, 

And  to  his  heir  Thelemachus 
He  bad  that  he  Thelogonus 
With  all  his  power  shulde'  kepe 
Till  he  were  of  his  woundes  depe 
All  hole,  and  than  he  shulde  him 

yive 

Lond  where  upon  he  mighte*  live. 
Thelemachus  whan  he  this  herde, 
Unto  his  fader  he  answerde 
And  saide,  he  wolde  don  his  wille. 
So  dwelle  they  to-gider  stille 
These    brethren,    and    the    fader 

sterveth. 

"  Lo,  wherof  sorcerie  serveth. 
Through  sorcerf  his  lust  he  wan, 
Through  sorcer^  his  wo  began, 
Through  sorcer^  his  love  he  chese, 
Through  sorcer^  his  life  he  lese. 
The  child  was  gete  in  sorcery, 
The  which  did  all  his  felony, 

1  Tite,  quickly. 


BOOK  VL— GLUTTONY. 


335 


Thing    which    was    ayein    kinde 

wrought 

Unkinddliche  it  was  abought : 
The  child  his  owne  fader  slough, 
That  was  unkinddship  inough. 

"  Forthy  take  hede  how  that  it  is, 
So  for  to  winnd  love  amis, 
Which  endeth  all  his  joy  in  wo. 
For  of  this  arte  I  find  also, 
That  hath  be  do  for  Love's  sake, 
Wherof  thou  might  ensample  take, 
A  great  crom'que  emperiall 
Which  ever  into  memoriall 
Among  the  men,  how  so  it  wende, 
Shall  dwelle  to  the  worldds  ende. 
f&fyc  Ijiflf)(?  creator  of  thinges, 
Which  is  the  king  of  alle  kinges, 
Full  many  wonder  worldds  chaunce 
Let  slide  under  his  suflferaunce, 
There  wot  no  man  the  cause"  why 
But  he,  the  which  is  Almight^. 
And  that  was  proved  whilom  thus,  ' 
Whan  that  the  king  Nectdnabus, 
\Vhich  had  Egiptd  for  to  lede, 
But  for  he  sigh  to-fore  the  dede 
Through  magique  of  his  sorcerie, 
Wherof  he  couth  a  great  partie, 
His  enemies  to  him  comend, 
Fro  whom  he  might  him  nought 

defend, 

Out  of  his  ownd  lond  he  fledde 
And  in  the  wise  as  he  him  dredde 
It  fell,  for  all  his  wicchecraft, 
So  that  Egipte  him  was  beraft. 
And  he  desguisdd  fledde  away 
By  ship  and  held  the  rightd  way 
To  Macedoind,  where  that  he 
Arriveth  at  the  chefe  citee. 
Thre  yomen  of  his  chambre  there 
All  only  for  to  serve  him  were, 
The  which  he  trusteth  wonder  wele 
For  they  were  trewe  as  any  stele. 
And  hapneth  that  they  with  him 

ladde 
Parte  of  the  beste  good  he  hadde, 


They  take*  logginge  in  the  town 

After  the  dispositioun, 

Where   as    him  thoughte  best  to 

dwelle. 

He  axeth  than  and  herde  telle 
How  that  the  kinge  was  out  go 
Upon  a  werre  he  haddd  tho. 
But  in  that  citee  thannd  was 
The  quend  which  Olimpias 
Was  note  and  with  solempnitd 
The  feste  of  her  nativitd, 
As  it  befell,  was  thanne  holde. 
And  for  her  lust  to  be  beholde 
And  preised  of  the  people  about 
She  shope  her  for  to  riden  out 
At  after-mete  all  openly. 
Anone  were  alle  men  redy, 
And  that  was  in  the  month  of  May. 
This  lusty  quene  in  good  array 
Was  set  upon  a  mule  white, 
To  sene  it  was  a  great  delite 
The  joid  that  the  citee  made. 
With  fresshd  thinges  and  with  glade 
The  noble  town  was  all  behonged, 
And  every  wight  was  sore  alonged 
To  se  this  lusty  lady  ride. 
There  was  great  merth  on  alld  side 
Where  as  she  passeth  by  the  strete, 
There  was  ful  many  a  timbre  bete 
And  many  a  maidd  caroldnde. 
And   thus  through  out  the  town 

pleiende 

This  quene  unto  the  pleind  rode, 
Where  that  she  hoved  and  abode 
To  se  diverse  games  pley, 
The  lusty  folk  joust  and  tourney* 
And  so  forth  every  other  man 
Which  pleie  couth  his  pley  began 
To  plesd  with  this  noble  quene. 

"  Nectdnabiis  came  to  the  grene 
Amonges  other  and  drough  him 

nigh. 

But  whan  that  he  this  lady  sigh 
And  of  her  beaute  hedd  toke, 
He  couthd  nought  witholde  his  loke 


336 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


To  se  nought  elles  in  the  felde, 
But  stood  and  only  her  behelde. 
Of  his  clothinge  and  of  his  gere 
He  was  unliche  all  other  there, 
So  that  it  hapneth  atte  laste 
The  quene  on  him  her  eye  caste 
And  knew  that  he  was   straunge 

anone. 

But  he  behelde  her  ever  in  one 
Without^  blenching  of  his  chere. 
She  toke  good  hede  of  his  manere 
And  wondreth  why  he  dide  so, 
And  bad  men  shulde  for  him  go. 
He  came  and  did  her  reverence. 
And  she  him  axeth  in  silence 
From  whenne  he  cam  and  what  he 

wolde. 

And  he  with  sobre  worde's  tolde, 
He  saith:  '  Madame,  a  clerk  I  am 
To  you  and  in  message  I  cam 
The  whiche  I  may  nought  tellen 

here, 

But  if  it  liketh  you  to  here, 
It  mot  be  said  so  prively 
Where  none  shall  be  but  ye  and  I. 
"Thus  for  the  time  he  toke  his 

leve. 

The  day  goth  forth  till  it  was  eve 
That  every  man  mot  leve  his  werk. 
And  she  thought  ever  upon  this  clerk, 
What  thing  it  is  that  he  wold  mene. 
And  in  this  wise  abode  the  quene 
And  passeth  over  thilke  night, 
Till  it  was  on  the  morwe  light. 
She  sende  for  him,  and  he  came, 
With  him  his  astrolabe  he  name,1 
Which  was  of  fine'  gold  precious 
With  points  and  cercles  merveilous. 
And  eke  the  hevenly  figures 
Wrought  in  a  boke  full  of  peintiires 
He  toke  this  lady  for  to  shewe 
And  tolde  of  eche  of  hem  by  rewe 
The  cours  and  the  condition. 
And  she  with  great  affection 

1  Name,  took. 


Sate  still  and  herde  what  he  wolde. 
And  thus  whan  he  seeth  time  he  tolde 
And  feigneth  with  his  wordes  wise 
A  tale  and  saith  in  such  a  wise  : 
'  Madame,  but  a  while  ago, 
Where  I  was  in  Egipte  tho 
And  rad  in  scole  of  this  science, 
It  fell  into  my  conscience 
That  I  unto  the  temple  went 
And  there  with  all  min  hole  entent 
As  I  my  sacrifice  dede 
One  of  the  godde's  hath  me  bede 
That  I  you  warne  prively, 
So  that  ye  make  you  redy, 
And  that  ye  be  nothing  agast, 
For  he  such  love  hath  to  you  cast, 
That  ye  shull  bene  his  owne  dere 
And  he  shall  be  your  beddefere 
Till  ye  conceive  and  be  with  childe/ 
And  with  that  word  she  wax  allmilde 
And  somdele  red  became  for  shame 
And  axeth  him  that  goddes  name. 
Which  so  woll  done  her  compaigny. 
And  he  said  :   *  Amos  of  Luby.' 
And  she  saith :  «  That  may  I  nought 

leve, 
But  if  I  se  a  better  preve.' 

'  Madame*,'  quod  Nectdnabiis, 
'  In  token  that  it  shall  be  thus 
This  night  for  enformation 
Ye  shall  have  an  avision, 
That  Amos  shall  to  you  appere 
To  shewe  and  teche  in  what  manere 
The  thing  shall  afterward  befalle. 
Ye  oughten  well  aboven  alle 
To  make  joy  of  such  a  lorde. 
For  whan  ye  ben  of  one  accorde 
He  shall  a  sone  of  you  begete 
Which  with  his  swerd  shall  win  and 

gete 

The  wide  worlde  in  length  and  brede, 
All  erthly  kinges  shall  him  drede. 
And  in  such  wise  I  you  behote 
The  god  of  erthe  he  shall  be  hote.' 
{ If  this  be  soth,3  tho  quod  the  quene, 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


337 


'  This  night,  thou  saiest,  it  shall  be 

sene. 

And  if  it  falle  into  my  grace, 
Of  god  Amos  that  I  purchase 
To  take  of  him  so  great  worship, 
I  wol  do  the  such  ladiship, 
Wherof  thou  shalt  for  evermo 
Be  riche.'    And  he  her  thonketh 

tho 

And  toke  his  leve  and  forth  he  went. 
She  wiste  litel  what  he  ment. 
For  it  was  guile  and  sorcery 
All  that  she  toke  for  prophecy. 

Nectdnabus  throughout  the  day 
Whan  he  cam  home  where  as  he  lay 
His  chambre  by  him  self  betoke 
And  overtorneth  many  a  boke 
And  through  the  craft  of  artemdge1 
Of  wexe  he  forgdd  an  ymage. 
He  loketh  his  equacions 
And  eke  the  constellacions, 
He  loketh  the  conjunctions, 
He  loketh  the  receptions, 
His  signe,  his  houre,  his  dscendent, 
And  draweth  Fortune  of  his  assent. 
The  name  of  quene  Olimpias 
In  thilke  ymdgd  written  was 
Amiddds  in  the  front  above. 
And  thus  to  winne  his  lust  of  love 
Nectdnabus  this  werk  hath  dight. 
And  whan  it  cam  withinne  night, 
That  every  wight  is  fall  aslepe, 
He  thought  he  wolde  his  time  kepe 
As    he,    whiche   hath    his    houre 

apointed. 

And  thannd  first  he  hath  anointed 
With  sondry  herbe's  that  figure 
And  therupon  he  gan  conjure, 
So  that  through  his  enchantdment 
This  lady,  which  was  innocent 
And  wistd  nothing  of  this  guile, 
Met 2  as  she  sleptd  thilke  while, 
How  fro  the  heven  came  a  light, 
Whiche  all  her  chambre  madd  light. 

1  Artemage,  Art  Magic.         '-  Met,  dreamed. 


And  as  she  loketh  to  and  fro, 
She  sigh,  her  thought,  a  dragon  tho, 
Whose   scherdds1   shinen    as    the 

sonne, 

And  hath  his  softd  pas  begonne 
With  all  the  cherd  that  he  may 
Toward  the  bed  there  as  she  lay, 
Till  he  came  to  the  beddds  side. 
And  she  lay  still  and  nothing  cride, 
For  he  did  all  his  thingds  faire 
And  was  courteis  and  debonaire. 
And  as  he  stood  her  fastd  by, 
His  forme  he  chaungeth  sodeinly, 
And  the  figure  of  man  he  nome 
To  her  and  into  bed  he  come, 
And  she  was  wonder  glad  withall. 
Nectdnabus,  which  causeth  all 
Of  this  metrede  2  the  substaunce, 
Whan  he  sigh  time  his  nigromaunce 
He  stint  and  nothing  mord  saide 
Of  his  carecte,  and  she  abraide 
Out  of  her  slepe  and  leveth  wele 
That  it  is  soth  than  every  dele 
Of  that  this  clerke  her  hadde  tolde, 
And  was  the  glader  many  folde 
In  hope  of  suche  a  glad  metrede 
Which  after  shall  befalle  in  dede. 
She  longeth  sore  after  the  day, 
That  she  her  sweven  telld  may 
To  this  guilour  in  privdtd, 
Which  knewe  it  al  so  well  as  she. 
And  netheles  on  morwe  sone 
She  left  al  other  thing  to  done 
And  for  him  send,  and  all  the  cas 
She  tolde  him  pleinly  as  it  was 
And  saide,  how  than  well  she  wist 
That  she  his  wordes  mightd  trist, 
For  she  founde  her  avisidn 
Right  after  the  condition 
Which  he  her  hadde  told  to-fore, 
And  praid  him  hertdly  therfore, 
That  he  her  holdd  covenant 
So  forth  of  all  the  remenant, 

1  Schcrdes,  scales. 

3  Mctrcdi,  dream-counsel. 

V 


333 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  she  may  through  his  orde- 

naunce 

Towardes  god  do  such  plesaunce, 
That  she  wake'ndd  might  him  kepe 
In  such  wise  as  she  met1  a  slepe. 
And  he  that  couth  of  guile  inough, 
Whan  he  this  herd,  for  joy  he  lough 
And  saith :  '  Madame,  it  shall  be  do. 
But  this  I  warne  you  therto, 
This  night  whan  that  he  comth  to 

play, 

That  there  be  no  life  2  in  the  way 
But  I  that  shall  at  his  liking 
Ordeind  so  for  his  coming 
That  ye  ne  shull  nought  of  him  faile. 
For  this,  madame,  I  you  counseile, 
That  ye  it  kepe  so  prive, 
That  no  wight  elles  but  we  thre 
Have  knouleching  how  that  it  is  ; 
For  elles  might  it  fare  amis 
Ifyedidoughtthatshuldehimgreve.' 
And  thus  he  makth  her  to  beleve 
And  feigneth  under  guile  feith. 
But  netheles  all  that  he  saith 
She  troweth.     And  ayein  the  night 
She  hath  within  her  chambre  dight, 
Where  as  this  guiler  faste  by 
Upon  this  god  shall  prive'ly 
Awaite,  as  he  makth  her  to  wene. 
And  thus  this  noble  gentil  quene, 
Whan  she  most  trusted,   was  de 
ceived. 

"  The  night  come,  and  the  cham 
bre  is  weived, 

Nect£nabus  hath  take  his  place, 
And  whan  he  sigh  the  time  and  space, 
Through  the  deceipt  of  his  magique 
He  put  him  out  of  mannes  like 
And  of  a  dragon  toke  the  forme, 
As  he,  which  wolde  him  allconforme 
To  that  she  sigh  in  sweven  er  this  ; 
And  thus  to  chambre  come  he  is. 
The  quene  lay  a  bed  and  sigh 
And  hopeth  ever  as  he  cam  nigh, 

1  Met,  dreartied.  2  j\rff  /,-fano  body. 


That  he  god  of  Lubie  were, 
So  hath  she  well  the  iesse  fere. 
But  for  he  wold  her  more  assure, 
Yet  efte  he  chaungeth  his  figure 
And  of  a  wether  the  likenesse 
He  toke  in  signe  of  his  noblesse, 
With  large  homes  for  the  nones 
Of  fine  gold  and  riche  stones. 
A  corone  on  his  heved  he  bare 
And  sodeinlich,  er  she  was  ware, 
As  he  whiche  alle  guile  can, 
His  forme  he  torneth  into  man. 
All  though  she  were  in  part  de 
ceived, 

Yet  for  all  that  she  hath  conceived 
The  worthiest  of  alle  kithe, 
Which  ever  was  to-fore  or  si  the 
Of  conquest  and  chivalerie, 
So  that  through  guile  and  sorcerie 
There  was  that  noble  knight  be- 

gonne, 
Which   all   the  worlde  hath  after 

wonne. 
Thus    fell    the    thing  which    falle 

sholde, 

Nectcinabus  hath  that  he  wolde, 
With  guile  he  hath  his  love  sped, 
With  guile  he  came  into  the  bed, 
With  guile  he  goth  him  out  ayein. 
He  was  a  shrewdd  chamberlein 
So  to  beguile  a  worthy  quene, 
And  that  on  him  was  after  sene. 
But  netheles  the  thing  is  do. 
This  false  god  was  sone  go 
With  his  deceipt   and  helde   him 

close, 

Till  morwe  cam  that  he  arose, 
And  tho,  whan  time  and  leiser  \vas, 
The  quene  tolde  him  all  the  cas 
As  she  that  guile  none  supposeth, 
And  of  two  points  shehimopposeth. 
One  was,  if  that  this  god  no  more 
Woll  come  ayein,  and  evermore 
How  she  shall  stonden  in  accorde 
With  king  Philippe  her  owne  lorde, 


BOOK  VL— GLUTTONY. 


339 


When  he  comth  home  and  seeth 

her  grone. 
4  Madame,'  he   saith,    '  let   me 

alone, 

As  for  the  god  I  undertake 
That  whan  it  liketh  you  to  take 
His  compaign^  at  any  throwe, 
If  I  a  day  to-fore  it  knowe 
He  shall  be  with  you  on  the  night, 
And  he  is  well  of  such  a  might 
To  kept!;  you  from  alle  blame. 
Forth^  comforte'  you,  madame, 
There  shall  none  other  cause*  be.' 
Thus  toke  he  leve  and  forth  goth  he. 
And  tho  began  he  for  to  muse 
How  he  the  quene  might  excuse 
Toward  the  king  of  that  is  falle, 
And  found  a  craft  amonges  alle, 
Through  which  he  hath  a  see  foule 

daunted l 
With   his    magfque    and    so    en- 

chaunted, 

That  he  flew  forth  whan  it  was  night 
Unto  the  kinge's  tente  right, 
Where  that  he  lay  amidde  hishoste. 
"  And  whan  he  was  a-slepe  most, 
Writh   that   the  see  foule   to  him 

brought, 

An  other  charme  which  he  wrought 
At  home  within  his  chambre  still, 
The  kinge  he  torneth  at  his  will, 
And  maketh  him  for  to  dremeandse 
The  dragon  and  the  privete' 
Which  was  betwene  him  and  the 

quene. 

And  over  that  he  made  him  wene 
In  sweven  that  the  god  Amds, 
Whan  he  up  fro  the  quene  aros, 
Toke  forth  a  ring  wherin  a  stone 
Was  set  and  grave  therupon 
A  sonne,  in  which,  whan  he  cam  nigh, 
A  Icon  with  a  swerd  he  sigh. 
And  with  that  prent,  as  he  somette,2 
Upon  the  quends  wombe  he  sette 

*  A  sea-fowl  tamed.  -'  Mttte,  dreamed. 


A  seal,  and  goth  him  forth  his  way ; 
With  that  the  sweven  went  away. 
And  tho  began  the  king  awake 
And  sigheth  for  his  wives  sake 
Where  as  he  lay  within  his  tent, 
And  hath  great  wonder  what  it  ment. 
With  that  he  hasted  him  to  rise 
Anone  and  sent  after  the  wise, 
Among  the  whiche*  there  was  one, 
A  clerke,  his  name  is  Amphione, 
Whan  he  the  kinges  sweven  herde, 
What  it  betokneth  he  answeVde 
And  saith  :  '  As  sikerly  as  the  life 
A  god  hath  laien  by  thy  wife 
And  got  a  sone*  which  shall  winne 
The  world  and  all  that  is  withinne. 
As  Icon  is  the  king  of  bestes 
So  shall  the  world  obey  his  hestes, 
Which  with  his  swerd  shal  al  be 

wonne 

Als  fer  as  shineth  any  sonne.' 
"  The  king  was  doubtif  of  this 

dome, 

But  nethe'les  whan  that  he  come 
Ayein  into  his  owne  lond, 
His  wife  with  childe  great  he  fond ; 
He  mighte*  nought  him  selven  stere 
That  he  ne  made  her  hevy  chere. 
But  he  which  couthe  of  alle'  sorwe, 
Nectdnabus,  upon  the  morwe 
Through  the  deceipt  of  nigromaunce 
Toke  of  a  dragon  the  semblaunce 
And  where  the  king  sat  in  his  halle, 
Cam  in  rampend  among  hem  alle 
With  such  a  noise  and  such  a  rore, 
That  they  agast  were  all  so  sore 
As  though  they  shulde*  deie  anone. 
And  nethe'les  he  greveth  none, 
But  goth  toward  the  deis  on  high. 
And  whan  he  cam  the  queue*  nigh, 
He  stint  his  noise  and  in  his  wise 
To  her  he  profreth  his  service 
And  laith  his  hede  upon  her  barme, 
And  she  with  goodly  chere  her  arme 
About  his  necke  ayeinward  laide, 


340 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  thus  the  quene  with  him  plaide 
In  sight  of  alle  men  about. 
And  atte  last  he  gan  to  lout 
And  dbeisaunce  unto  her  make, 
As  he  that  wolde  his  leve  take. 
And  sodeinly  his  lothely  forme 
Into  an  egle  he  gan  transforme, 
And  fligh  and  set  him  on  a  raile, 
Wherof  the  king  had  great  merveile. 
For  thereheprunethhimandpiketh, 
As  doth  an  hawk  whan  him  wel 

liketh, 

And  after  that  him  self  he  shoke, 
Wherof  that  all  the  halle  quoke, 
As  it  a  terremote  r  were. 
They  saiden  alle,  god  was  there, 
In  suche  a  rees  and  forth  he  fligh. 

"  The  king  which  all  this  wonder 

sigh, 

Whan  he  cam  to  his  chambre  aione, 
Unto  the  quene  made  his  mone 
And  of  foryivenesse  he  her  praide. 
For  than  he  knew  well,  as  he  saide, 
She  was  with  childe  with  a  god. 

"  Thus  was  the  king  withoute  rod 
Chastised  and  the  quene  excused 
Of  that  she  hadde  ben  accused. 
And  for  the  greater  evidence 
Yet  after  that  in  the  presence 
Of  king  Philip  and  other  mo, 
Whan  they  ride  in  the  feldes  tho, 
A  fesaunt  came  before  her  eye 
The  whiche  anone,  as  they  her  sigh 
Fleende',  let  an  ey  2  down  falle, 
And  it  to-brake  to-fore  hem  alle. 
And  as  they  token  therof  kepe, 
They  sigh  out  of  the  shelle  crepe 
A  litel  serpent  on  the  grounde, 
Which  rampeth  all  aboute'  rounde, 
And  in  ayein  he  woll  have  wonne, 
But  for  the  brenning  of  the  sonne 
It  mighte  nought,  and  so  it  deide. 
And  therupon  the  clerkes  saide  : 

*  As  the  serpent,  when  it  was  out, 

1  Terremoti,  earthquake.  2  £y%  egg. 


Went  environ  the  shelle  aboute 
And  mighte  nought  torne  in  ayein, 
So  shall  it  fallen  in  certein, — 
This  child  the  world  shall  environe 
And  above  alle  the  corone 
Him  shall  befall,  and  in  yonge  age 
He  shall  desire  in  his  corage, 
Whan  all  the  worlde  is  in  his  honde 
To  torne  ayein  unto  the  londe 
Where  he  was  bore,  and  in  his  wey 
Ho  we  ward  he  shall  with  poison  dey.' 
"  The  king  whiche  al  this  sigh 

and  herde 

Fro  that  day  forth  how  so  it  ferde 
His  jalousie  hath  all  foryete. 
But  he,  whiche  hath  the  child  begete, 
Necta"nabus  in  privite 
The  time  of  his  nativite' 
Upon  the  constellation 
Awaiteth  and  relation 
Maketh  to  the  quene,  how  she  snail 

do, 

And  every  houre  appointeth  so 
That  no  minute  therof  was  lore. 
So  that  in  due  time  is  bore 
This  childe,  and  forthwith  therupon 
There  fellen  wonders  many  one  ; 
Of  terremote  universele ; 
The  sonne  toke  colour  of  stele 
And  lost  his  light;  thewindes  blevve 
And  many  strengthes  overthrewe  ; 
The  see  his  propre  kinde  chaungeth 
And    all    the    worlde    his    forme 

straungeth ; 

The  thunder  with  his  firy  leven 
So  cruel  was  upon  the  heven, 
That  every  erthely  creature 
Tho  thought  his  life  in  aventiire. 
The  tempest  atte*  laste  ceseth, 
The  child  is  kepte,  his  age  encreseth, 
And  Alisaundre  his  name  is  hote  ; 
To  whom  Calistre  and  Aristote 
To  techen  him  philosophy 
Entenden,  and  astronomy 
With  other  thinges  which  he  couth, 


BOOK  VI.— GLUTTONY. 


34i 


Also  to  teche  him  in  his  youth 
Nectdnabus  toke  upon  honde. 
But  every  man  may  understonde 
Of  sorcery,  how  that  it  wende, 
It  woll  him  selvd  prove  at  ende, 
And  namdly  for  to  beguile 
A  lady  which  withoutd  guile 
Supposethtrouthall  that  she  heretli. 
But  often  he  that  evil  stereth, 
His  ship  is  dreint  therin  amidde, 
And  in  this  cas  right  so  betidde. 
Nectdnabiis,  upon  a  night 
Whan  it  was  faire  and  sterre  light, 
This  yongd  lord  lad  upon  high 
Above  a  toure,  where  as  he  sigh 
The  sterrds  such  as  he  accompteth, 
And    saith    what    eche    of    hem 

amounteth, 

As  though  he  knewe  of  alle  thing. 
But  yet  hath  he  no  knouleching 
What  shal  unto  him  self  befalle. 
Whan  he  hath  tolde  his  wordds  alle, 
This  yongd  lord  than  him  opposeth 
And  axeth  if  that  he  supposeth 
What  deth  he  shul  him  selvd  dey. 
He  saith  :  *  Or  fortune  is  awey 
And  eveiy  sterre  hath  lost  his  wone, 
Or  ellds  of  min  ownd  sone 
I  shall  be  slain,  I  may  nought  fle.' 
Thought  Alisaundre  in  privetd  : 
«  Herof  this  oldd  dotard  lieth.' 
And  er  that  other  ought  aspieth 
All  sodeinlich  his  oldd  bones 
He  shof  over  the  wall  at  ones 
And  saith  him  :  «  Lie  down  there  a 

part ! 

Wherof  now  serveth  all  thin  art  ? 
Thou    knewe   all    other    mennes 

chaunce 

And  of  thy  self  hast  ignoraunce ; 
That  thou  hast  said  amonges  alle 
Of  thy  persone  is  nought  befalle.' 
"  Nectdnabus,  which    hath   his 

dethe, 
Yet  while  him  lasteth  life  andbrethe 


|  To  Alisaundre  he  spake  and  said 
That  he  with  wrong  blame  on  him 

laid. 

Fro  point  to  point  and  all  the  cas 
He  tolde,  how  he  his  sond  was. 
Tho  he  which  sory  was  inough, 
Out  of  the  dich  his  fader  drough 
And  tolde  his  moder  how  it  ferde, 
In  counseil  and  whan  she  it  herde, 
And  knew  the  tokens  which  he  tolde, 
She  nistd l  what  she  said  sholde, 
But  stood  abasshed  as  for  the  while 
Of  this  magfque  and  all  the  guile. 
She  thought,   how  that    she  was 

deceived, 

That  she  hath  of  a  man  conceived 
And  wende  a  god  it  haddd  be. 
But  netheles  in  such  degre 
So  as  she  might  her  honour  save 
She  shope  the  body  was  begrave. 
And  thus  Nectanabus  abought 
The  sorcerfe,  which  he  wrought, 
Though  he  upon  the  creatures 
Through  his  carectes  and  figures 
The  maistry  and  the  power  hadde 
His  Creatdr  to  nought  him  ladde, 
Ayein  whose  lawe  his  craft  he  usctli, 
Whan  he  for  lust  his  god  refuseth 
And  toke  him  for  the  devels  craft. 
Lo,  what  profit  is  him  belaft : 
That  thing,  through  which  he  wend 

have  stonde, 

First  him  exildd  out  of  londe 
Which  was  his  own,  and  from  a  king 
Made  him  to  be  an  underling, 
And  sithen  to  deceive  a  quene, 
That  torneth  him  to  mochel  tene, 
Through  lust  of  love  he  gat  him 

hate, 

That  endd  couth  he  nought  abate 
His  oldd  sleightds  which  he  cast, 
Yonge  Alisaundre  him  overcast ; 
His  fader  which  him  misbegat 
He  slough,  a  great  mishap  was  that. 

Nistf,  knew  not 


342 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


But  for  o  mis  an  other  mis 
Was  yolde,  and  so  full  ofte  it  is. 
Nectdnabus  his  craft  miswent, 
So  it  misfell  him  er  he  went.1 
I  not  what  helpeth  that  clergy  2 
Which  maketh  a  man  to  do  foly, 
And  namelich  of  nigromaunce, 
Which  stont  upon  the  miscreaiince. 

"  And  for  to  se  more  evidence 
^orasics,  which  thexperience 
Of  art  magique  first  forth  drough, 
Anone  as  he  was  bore  he  lough, 
Which  token  was  of  wo  suinge, 
For  of  his  owne  controvinge 
He  found  magique  and  taught  it 

forth, 

But  all  that  was  him  litel  worth. 
For  of  Surrie  a  worthy  king 
Him  slewe  and  that  was  his  ending. 
But  yet  through  him  this  craft  is 

used, 

And  he  through  all  the  world  ac 
cused, 

For  it  shall  never  well  acheve 
That  stont  nought  right  with  the 

beleve. 

But  lich  to  wolle  is  evil  sponne, 
Who  leseth  him  self  hath  litel  wonne, 
An  ende  proveth  every  thing. 

"gfctftl,  which  was  of  Jewdsking, 
Up  peine  of  deth  forbad  this  arte, 
And  yet  he  toke  therof  his  parte. 
The  Phitonisse  in  Samar^ 
Yaf  him  counseil  by  sorcery, 
Which  after  fell  to  mochel  sorwe, 
For  he  was  slain  upon  the  morwe. 
To  conne  mochel  thing  it  helpeth, 
But  of  to  moche  no  man  yelpeth.8 
So  for  to  loke  on  every  side, 
Magique  may  nought  well  betide. 

"  Forthy  my  sone,  I  woll  the  rede, 
That  thou  of  these  ensamples  drede, 
That  for  no  lust  of  erthly  love 

1  Went,  weened.  '-  Clergy,  learning. 

3  Yelpeth,  boasts. 


Thou  seche  so  to  come  above 
Wherof  as  in  the  worldes  wonder 
Thou sha.lt for  ever  be  put  under." — 

"  My  gode  fader,  graunt  mercy. 
For  ever  I  shall  beware  therby 
Of  Love  what  me  so  befalle 
Such  sorcery  aboven  alle. 
Fro  this  day  forth  I  shall  escheue, 
That  so  ne  woll  I  nought  pursue 
My  lust  of  Love  for  to  seche. 
But  this  I  wolde  you  beseche 
Beside  that  me  stant  of  Love, 
As  I  you  herde  speke  above, 
How  Alisaundre  was  betaught 
Of  Aristotle  and  so  well  taught 
Of  all  that  to  a  king  belongeth, 
Wherof  my  herte*  sor£  longeth 
To  wite  what  it  wolde  mene. 
For  by  reson  I  wolde  wene, 
But  if  I  herde  of  thinges  straunge, 
Yet  for  a  time  it  shulde  chaunge 
My  peine  and  lisse  me  somdele." — • 

"My  gode  sone,  thou  saiest  wele. 
For    wisdom,    how    that    ever    it 

stonde, 

To  him  that  can  it  understonde 
Doth  great  profit  in  sondry  wise  ; 
But  touchend  of  so  high  a  prise, 
Which  is  nought  unto  Venus  knowe, 
I  may  it  nought  my  selve  knowe, 
Which  of  her  Court  am  all  forth 

drawe 

And  can  no  thing  but  of  her  lawe. 
But  netheles  to  knowe  more 
As  wel  as  thou  me  longeth  sore. 
And  for  it  helpeth  to  comune 
All  be  they  nought  to  me  comune, 
The  scoles  of  philosophy 
Yet  thenk  I  for  to  specify 
In  boke  as  it  is  comprehended, 
Wherof  thou  mightest  ben  amended. 
For  though  I  be  nought  all  cunning 
Upon  the  forme  of  this  writing, 
Some  part  therof  yet  I  have  herde, 
In  this  matere  how  it  hath  ferde. 


3600ft 


HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT. 


J[  (ScttittG  the  prest  of  love, 

X     My  sone,  as  thou  hast  praid 

above, 

That  I  the  scole  shall  declare 
Of  Aristotle  and  eke  the  fare 
Of  Alisaundre,  how  he  was 

taught, 

I  am  somdele  therof  destraught. 
For  it  is  nowight  the  matere 
Of  lovd,  why  we  sitten  here 
To  shrive  so  as  Venus  badde, 
But  netheles  for  it  is  gladde, 
So  as  thou  saist,  for  thin  apprise 
To  here  of  suche  thinges  wise, 
Wherof  thou  might  thy  time  lisse, 
So  as  I  can,  I  shall  the  wisse. 
For  Wisdom  is  at  every  thro  we 
Above  all  other  thing  to  knowe 
In  Loves  cause  and  elles  where. 
Forthy  my  sone,  unto  thin  ere, 
Though  it  be  nought  in  the  registre 
Of  Venus,  yet  of  that  Calistre 
And  Aristotle  whilom  write 
To  Alisaundre,  thou  shalt  wite. 
But  for  the  lores  ben  diverse 
I  thenke  first  to  the  reherce 
The  nature  of  philosophy, 
Which  Aristotle  of  his  clergy 
Wise  and  experte  in  the  Sciences, 
Declared  thilke  intelligences, 
As  of  the  points  in  principal!. 
Wherof  the  first  in  speciall 
Is  Theorique',  which  is  grounded 


On  him  which  al  the  worlde  hath 

founded, 

Which  comprehended  al  the  lore. 
And  for  to  loken  evermore 
Next  of  Sciences  the  secounde 
Is  Rhetorique',  whose  facounde 
Above  all  other  is  eloquent. 
To  telle  a  tale  in  juge'ment 
So  well  can  no  man  speke  as  he. 
The  laste"  Science  of  the  thre 
It  is  Practiqud,  whose  orHce 
The  Vertu  trieth  fro  the  Vice 
And  techeth  upon  gode  thewes  l 
To  fle  the  compaigny  of  shrewes,2 
Which  stant  in  diposicion 
Of  mannes  fre  electidn. 
Practique  enformeth  eke  the  reule, 
How  that  a  worthy  King  shall  reule 
His  realme  both  in  werre  and  pees. 
Lo,  thus  danz :{  Aristotele's 
These  thre  Sciences  hath  devided 
And  the  nature  also  decided 
Wherof  that  eche  of  hem  shall  serve. 
The  firste,  which  is  the  conserve 
And  keper  of  the  remenaunt, 
As  that  which  is  most  suffisaunt 
And  chefe  of  the  philosophy, 
If  I  therof  shall  specify, 
So  as  the  philosophre  tolde, 
Now  herke  and  kepe  that  thou  it 

holde. 

1  Thewes,  manners,  morals. 

-  Shrnvts,  evil  men. 

8  Danz,  Dominus,  applied  to  a  Graduate  in  Arts. 


344 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


principall 
The  philosophre  in  speciall 
The  propretes  hath  determined, 
As  thilk^  which  is  enlumined 
Of  wisdom  and  of  high  prudence 
Above  all  other  in  his  science, 
And  stant  departed  upon  thre. 
The  first  of  which  in  his  degre 
Is  cleped  in  philosophy 
The  Science  of  Theology, 
That  other  named  is  Phisique, 
The  thridde  is  said  Mathe'matique. 
Theology  is  that  science, 
Which  unto  man  yiveth  evidence 
Of  thing  which  is  nought  bodely, 
Wherof  men  knowe  redely 
The  High  Almighty  Trinitd, 
Which  is  o  God  in  Unite 
Withouten  ende  and  beginning 
And  Creator  of  alle  thing, 
Of  erthe,  of  heven  nnd  of  helle, 
Wherof  as  olde  boke"s  telle 
The  philosophre  in  his  resdn 
Wrote  upon  this  conclusion, 
And  of  his  writing  in  a  clause 
He  clepeth  God  the  Firste"  Cause, 
Which  of  him  self  is  tru'lke*  good 
Withoute  whom  nothing  is  good, 
Of  which  that  every  creature 
Hath  his  being  and  his  nature. 
After  the  being  of  the  thinges 
There  ben  thre  formes  of  beinges. 
"  Thing,  which  began  and  ende 

shall, 

That  thing  is  cleped  temporall. 
There  is  also  by  other  way 
Thing  which  began  and  shall  nought 

dey 

As  soules  that  ben  spirituell, 
Her  being  is  perpetuell. 
But  there  is  one  above  the  sonne 
Whose  time  never  was  begonne 
And  endeles  shall  ever  be, 
That  is  the  God,  whose  mageste* 
All  other  thinges  shall  governe, 


And  his  Being  is  sempiterne. 
The  God,  to  whom  that  all  honour 
Belongeth,  he  is  Creatour. 
And  other  ben  his  creatures, 
He  commaundeth  the  natures 
That  they  to  him  obeien  alle. 
Withouten  him,  what  so  befalle, 
Her  might  is  none  and  He  may1  all: 
The  God  was  ever  and  ever  shall, 
And  they  begonne  of  his  assente. 
The  times  alle  be  present 
To  God,  and  to  hem  alle  unknowe, 
But  what  him  liketh  that  they  knowe. 
Thus  both  an  aungel  and  a  man, 
The  which  of  all  that  God  began 
Be  chefe,  obeien  Goddes  might, 
And  He  stont  endeles  up  right. 
To  this  Science  ben  prive 
The  Clerke's  of  Divinite, 
The  which  unto  the  people  prechen 
The  feith  of  Haly  Chirche  and  techen, 
Which  in  one  cas  upon  beleve 
Stant  more  than  they  conne  preve 
By  wey  of  argument  sensible. 
But  netheles  it  is  credible 
And  doth  a  man  great  mede  have 
To  him  that  thenketh  him  self  to 

save. 

Theology  in  such  a  wise 
Of  highe  Science  and  apprise 
Above  all  other  stant  unlike 
And  is  the  first  of  Theorique. 

"  Phisique  is  after  the  seconde, 
Through    which    the    philosophre 

hath  fonde 

To  techen  sondry  knoulechinges 
Upon  the  bodeliche  thinges 
Of  man,  of  beste,  of  herbe,  of  stone, 
Of  fisshe,  of  foule,  of  everichone 
That  ben  of  bodely  substaunce, 
The  nature  and  of  the  substaunce. 
Through  this  Science  it  is  full  sought, 
Which  vaileth  and  which  vaileth 

nought. 

1  May,  has  power  over. 


BOOK  VII.— P10W  A  KING   WAS  TAUGHT.      345 


"Thethridde  point  of  Theorique, 
Which  cleped  is  Mathematique, 
Devided  is  in  sondry  wise 
And  slant  upon  divers  apprise. 
The  ferst  of  whiche  is  Arsmetique,1 
And  the  second  is  said  Musique, 
The  thridde  is  eke  Geometrie, 
Also  the  forth  Astronomic. 

"  Of  Arsmetique  the  matere 
Is  that  of  which  a  man  may  lere, 
Whatalgorisme-  innombreamount- 

eth, 

Whan  that  the  wise"  man  accompteth 
After  the  formal  proprett* 
Of  algorismes  a,  be,  ce. 
By  which  multiplication 
Is  made  and  diminution 
Of  sommes  by  inexperience 
Of  this  art  and  of  this  science. 

<;  The  seconde  of  mathdmatfque, 
Which  is  the  Science  of  Musique, 
That  techeth  upon  Harmonic 
A  man  to  makd  melodic 
By  vois  and  soune  of  instrument 
Through  note's  of  accordement, 
The  whichd  men  pronounce  alofte; 
Now  sharpe  notes  and  now  softe 
Now  highe"  note's  and  now  lowe, 
Asbythegamme3  amanmayknowe, 
Which  techeth  the  prolacion 
Of  note  and  the  conditidn. 

Mathematique  of  his  Science 
Hath  yet  the  thridde  intelligence 
Full  of  wisddm  and  of  clergie 
And  clepe*d  is  Geometrie, 
Through  which  that  a  man  hath  the 

sleight 

Of  length,  of  brede,  of  depth,  of  height 
To  knowe  the  proporcidn 
By  verray  calculaci6n 
Of  this  Science.     And  in  this  wise 
These  old£  philosophres  wise 
Of  all  this  worlde*s  erthe*  rounde 

1  Arsmetique,  Arithmetic. 
-'  Algonsme,  Algebra. 
3  Gamme,  gamut. 


How  large,   how  thicke*  was   the 

grounde, 

Contrived  in  thexperience, 
The  cercle  and  the  circumference 
Of  every  thing  unto  the  heven 
They  setten  point  and  mesure  even. 

"  Mathe*matfque  above  the  erth, 
Of  High  Science  above,  the  ferth 
Which  speketh  upon  Astronomic 
And  techeth  of  the  sterre"s  high, 
Beginning  upward  fro  the  mone. 
But  first,  as  it  was  for  to  done 
This  Aristotle  in  other  thing 
Unto  this  worthy  yong<5  king 
The  kinde  of  every  element, 
Which  stant  under  the  firmament, 
How  it  is  made  and  in  what  wise 
Fro  point  to  point  he  gan  devise. 

"  He,  which natureth every  kinde, 
The  mighty  God,  so  as  I  finde, 
Of  Man,  which  is  his  creature, 
Hath  so  devided  the  nature 
!  That  none  till  other  well  accordeth. 
And  by  the  cause  it  so  discordeth 
The  life,  which  feleth  the  siknesse, 
May  stond  upon  no  sikernesse. 

"  Of  therthe,  which  is  colde  and 

dry, 

The  kinde  of  man  Malencoly 
Is  cle"ped,  and  that  is  the  firste, 
The  most  ungoodlich  andthewerstc. 
What  man  hath  that  complexion, 
Full  of  ymagination 
Of  drede"s  and  of  wrathfull  thought, 
He  fret  him  selven  all  to  nought. 

"  The  water,  which  is  moist  and 
colde,  [folde, 

Maketh  Fleume*,1  which  is  mani- 
Foryetel,  slow  and  wery  sone 
Of  every  thing  whiche  is  to  done. 

What  man  that  taketh  his  kind 

of  thair, 
He  shall  be  light,  he  shall  be  fair. 

1  ]-'leuiiuf,  phlegm  of  the  phlegmatic  tern* 
perament. 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


For  his  complexion  is  blood, 
Of  alle  there  is  none  so  good, 
Where  as  he  hath  love  undertake, 
Wronge  is  it,  if  that  he  forsake. 

"  The  first  of  his  condicion 
Appropreth  the  complexion, 
Whose  propretes  ben  drie  and  hote, 
Which  in  a  man  is  coler l  hote. 
It  maketh  a  man  ben  enginous 
And  swifte  of  fote  and  eke  irous.- 
Of  conteke  and  fool  hastimesse 
He  hath  a  right  great  besinesse. 

After  the  kinde  of  thelement 
Thus  stant  a  mannes  kind£  went  3 
As  touchend  his  complexion 
Upon  sondry  division 
Of  dry,  of  moist,  of  chele,  of  hete, 
And  eche  of  hem  his  owne  sete 
Appropred  hath  within  a  man. 
And  first^to  telle  as  I  began 
The  Sple*n  is  to  Malencoly 
Assigned  for  herbergery.4 

"The  moiste  Fleume  with  the 

colde 

Hath  in  the  Lunges  for  his  holde 
Ordeined  him  a  propre  stede 
To  dwelle  there  as  he  is  bede. 

"  To  the  Sanguine  Complexion 
Nature  of  his  inspection 
A  propre  hous  hath  in  the  Liver 
For  his  dwellmge  made  deliver.5 

"  The  drie  Coler  with  his  hete 
By  wey  of  kinde  his  propre  sete 
Hath  in  the  Galle,  where  he  dwel- 

leth, 
So  as  the  philosophre  telleth. 

"  Now  over  this  is  for  to  wite, 
As  it  is  in  phisique  write 
Of  Liver,  of  Lunge,  of  Galle,  of  Splen, 
They  all  unto  the  hert^  ben 
Servaunts,  and  eche  in  his  office 

1  Coler,  choler,  bile. 

-  Irons,  given  to  anger,  choleric. 

3  Kinde  "went,  natural  turn  or  bent. 

4  The  Spleen  is  assigned  to  Melancholy  for 
its  place  of  lodging. 

5  Deliver,  free,  supple. 


Entendeth  to  don  him  service, 
As  he,  which  is  chefe  lord  above. 
The  Liver  maketh  him  for  to  love, 
The  Lunge  yiveth  him  wey  of  speche, 
The  Galle'  serveth  to  do  wreche. 
The  Splen  doth  him  to  laugh  and  play 
Whan  all  unclennesse  is  away. 
Lo,  thus  hath  eche  of  hem  his  dede 
To  susteignen  hem  and  fede. 
In  time  of  recreation 
Nature  hath  in  creation 
The  Stomack  for  a  comun  coke 
Ordeined  so,  as  saith  the  boke  : 
The  Stomack  coke  is  for  the  hall 
And  boileth  mete  for  hem  all 
To  make  hem  mighty  for  to  serve 
The  Herte,  that   he  shall  nought 

sterve. 

For  as  a  King  in  his  empire 
Above  all  other  is  lorde  and  sire, 
So  is  the  Herte  principall, 
To  whom  Reson  in  speciail 
Is  yove  as  for  the  governaunce. 

"And  thus  nature  his  purveaunce 
Hath  made  for  man  to  liven  here. 
But  God  which  hath  the  Soule  dere 
Hath  formed  it  in  other  wise 
That  can  no  man  pleinly  devise. 
But  as  the  clerkes  us  enforme, 
That  lich  to  God  it  hath  a  forme, 
Through  which  figure  and  which 

likenesse 
The    Soule    hath   many    an    high 

noblesse 

Appropred  to  his  owne  kinde. 
But  oft  her  wittes  ben  made  blinde 
Al  onelich  of  this  ilke  pointe, 
That  her  abiding  is  conjointe 
Forth  with  the  body  for  to  dwelle. 

"  That  one  desireth  toward  helle, 
That  other  upward  to  the  heven  ; 
So  shall  they  never  stonde  in  even 
But  if  the  Flessh  be  overcome 
And  that  the  Soule  have  holynome1 

1  Holy  nonic,  wholly  taken. 


BOOK  V II.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      347 


The  governaunce,  and  that  is  seklc 
While  that    the  Flessh  him    may 

bewelde. 

All  erthely  thing  which  God  began, 
Was  only  made  to  serve*  man, 
But  he  the  Soul  all  onely  made 
Him  selven  for  to  serve  and  glade. 
All  other  bestds  that  men  finde 
They  serve  unto  her  owne  kinde, 
But  to  Res6n  the  Sould  serveth, 
Wherof  the  man  his  thank  deserveth 
And  get  him  with  his  workds  good 
The  perdurable  livds  food. 

"  Of  what  matere  it  shall  betolde 
A  tald  liketh  many  folde 
The  bet  if  it  be  spoke  pleine, 
Thus  thenke  I  for  to  torne  ayeine 
And  tellen  plenerly  therfore 
Of  therthe,  wherof  now  to-fore 
I  spake,  and  of  the  water  eke, 
So  as  these  olde  bokds  speke, 
And  sette*  properly  the  bounde 
After  the  forme  of  mappemounde,1 
Through  which  the  ground  by  pur- 
parties 

Departed  is  in  thre  parties, 
That  is  Asie,  Aufrfque,  Europe, 
The  which  under  the  heven  cope 
As  fer  as  streccheth  any  ground 
Begripeth  all  this  erthd  round. 
But  after  that  the  highe  wreche  '- 
The  water  weids  let  out  seche 
And  overgo  the  nine's  high, 
Which  every  kindd  made  deie 
That  upon  middel  erthd  stood 
Out  take'  Noe  and  his  blood, 
His  sone's  and  his  doughters  thre 
They  weren  sauf  and  so  was  he. 
Her  name's,  who  that  redd  right, 
Sem,   Cham,  Japhet  the  brethern 

hight, 
And  whannd  thilke  almighty  honde 

1  MapfieiHtmnde,  Mappa  Mundi,  map  of  the 
world. 

2  The  highe  ivrec/te,  the  vengeance  of  God. 


Withdrough  the  water  fro  the  londe 
And  all  the  rage*  was  away 
And  erthe  was  the  manners  way, 
The  sone's  thre,  of  which  I  tolde, 
Right  after  that  hem  selvd  wolde, 
This  world  departd  they  begonne.1 

"Asfa,  which  lay  to  the  sonne 
Upon  the  marche  of  orient, 
Was  graunted  by  commune  assent 
To  Sem,  which  was  the  sone  eldest, 
For  that  partid  was  the  best 
And   double   as    moch    as    other 

two. 

And  was  that  time*  bounded  so, 
Wher  as  the  flood  which  men  Nile 

calleth, 

Departeth  fro  his  cours  andfalleth 
Into  the  see  Alexandrine, 
There  taketh  Asie  first  sesfne  - 
Toward  the  west,  and  over  this 
Of  Canahim,  where  the  flood  is 
Into  the  Crete  See  renndnd, 
Fro  that  into  the  worldds  end 
Estwarde  Asie  it  is  algates 
Till  that  men  comen  to  the  gates 
Of  Paradis,  and  therd  ho.:{ 
And  shortly  for  to  speke  it  so 
Of  orient  in  generall 
Within  his  bounde  Asie  hath  all. 

"  And  than  upon  that  other  side 
Westwdrde,  as  it  fell  thilke'  tide, 
The     brother,    which     was    hote 

Cham, 

Unto  his  parte  Aufrfque  nam. 
Japhet  Europe  tho  toke  he  : 
Thus  partenthey  the  worlde  on  thre. 
But  yet  there  ben  of  londes  fele 4 
In  Occident  as  for  the  chele, 
In  oriente  as  for  the  hete, 
Which  of  the  people  be  forlete 
As  lond  dese*rte,  that  is  undble, 
For  it  may  nought  ben  babitdble. 

1  They  began  to  divide  this  world. 

-  Srsfttf,  seizin,  possession. 

*  //0,  stop.  *  fflf,  many. 


348 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


"The   water   eke  hath   sondry 

bounde, 

After  the  lond  where  it  is  founde, 
And  taketh  hisnameof  thilke  londes 
Where    that    it    renneth    on    the 

strondes. 

But  thilkd  see,  which  hath  no  wane, 
Is  cleped  the  Great  Oceane, 
Out  of  the  which  arise  and  come 
The  highe  flodes  all  and  some. 
Is  none  so  litel  welle  spring, 
Which  there  ne  taketh  his  beginning, 
And  lich  a  man  that  lacketh  breth 
By  wey  of  kinde  so  it  geth 
Out  of  the  see  and  in  ayein, 
The  water,  as  the  bokes  sain. 

"  Of  Elements  the  propretes 
How  that  they  stonden  by  degres, 
As  I  have  told  now  might  thou  here, 
My  gode  sone,  all  the  matere 
Of  erthe,  of  water,  aire  and  fire. 
And  for  thou  saist,  that  thy  desire 
Is  for  to  witen  overmore 
The  forme  of  Aristotles  lore, 
He  saith  in  his  entendement 
That  yet  there  is  an  Element 
Above  the  foure,  and  is  the  fifte 
Set  of  the  highe  Goddes  yifte, 
The  which  that  orbis  cleped  is. 
And  therupon  he  telleth  this, 
That  as  the  shelle  hole  and  sounde 
Encloseth  all  aboute  rounde 
What  thing  within  an  ey1  belongeth, 
Right  so  this  orbis  underfongeth 
These  Elementes  everychone 
Which  I  have  spoke  of  one  and  one. 
"  But  over  this  now  take  good 

hede, 

My  sone,  for  I  wol  procede 
To  speke  upon  Mathematique, 
Which  grounded  is  on  Theorique. 
The  Science  of  Astronomy 
I  thenke  for  to  specify, 
Withoute  which  to  telle  pleine 

1  Ey,  egg. 


All  other  Science  is  in  veine 
Toward  the  scole  of  erthly  thinges. 
For  as  an  egle  with  his  winges 
Fleeth  above  alle  that  men  finde, 
So  doth  this  Science  in  his  kinde. 
"  Benethe  upon  this  erthe  here 
Of  alld  thinge"s  the  matere, 
As  tellen  us  they  that  ben  lerned, 
Of  thing  above  it  stont  governed. 
That  is  to  sain  of  the  planetes 
The  cheles  bothe  and  eke  the  hetes, 
The  chaunces  of  the  worlde  also, 
That  we  Fortune  clepen  so 
Among  the  mennes  nacion, 
All  is  through  constellacion  ; 
Wherof  that  some  man  hath   the 

wele, 

And  some  men  have  diseses  fele 
In  love  as  well  as  other  thinges. 
The  state  of  realmes  and  of  kinges 
In  time  of  pees,  in  time  of  werre, 
It  is  conceived  of  the  sterre. 
And  thus  saith  the  Naturien, 
Whiche  is  an  Astronomien. 
But  the  Divine  saith  other  wise, 
That  if  men  were  good  and  wise 
And  plesant  unto  the  Godhede 
They  shulden  nought  the  sterres 

drede. 

For  o  man  if  him  well  befalle 
Is  more  worth  than  ben  they  alle 
Towardds  him  that  weldeth  all. 
But  yet  the  lawe  original!, 
Which  he  hath  set  in  the  natures, 
Mot  worchen  in  the  creatures, 
That  therof  may  be  none  obstacle 
But  if1  it  stonde  upon  miracle 
Through  praier  of  some  haly  man. 
And  forthy  so  as  I  began 
To  speke  upon  Astronomy 
As  it  is  write  in  the  clerg^, 
To  telle  how  the  planetes  fare, 
Some  parte  I  thenkd  to  declare, 
My  sone,  unto  thin  audience. 

1  But  if,  unless. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      349 

But  now,  my  leve*  dere  brother, 
As  thou  desirest  for  to  wite 
What  I  finde  in  the  bokes  write, 
To  telle  of  the  Planete's  Seven 
How  that  they  stonde  upon  the 

heven, 

And  in  what  point  that  they  ben  in, 
Take  nede*,  for  I  woll  begin, 
So  as  the  philosdphre  taught 
To  Alisaundre  and  it  betaught, 
Wherof  that  he  was  fully  taught 
Of  wisdom  which  was  him  betaught. 
"  Beneth  all  other  stantthe  Mone, 
The  which  hath  with  the  See  to  done 
Of  flode's  high  and  ebbes  lowe 
Upon  hischaunge  it  shall  beknowe. 
And  every  fissh  which  hath  a  shelle 
Mote  in  his  governaiince'  dwelle 
To  wexe  and  wane  in  his  degre, 
As  by  the  Mone  a  man  may  se, 
And  all  that  stant  upon  the  grounde 
Of  his  moisture  it  mot  be  founde. 
All  other  sterre*s,  as  men  finde, 
Ben  shinend  of  her  owne  kinde 
Out  take  onty  the  mone  light, 
Which    is   nought    of   him    selve' 

bright, 

But  as  he  taketh  it  of  the  Sonne. 
And  yet  he  hath  nought  all  full 

wonne 
His    light   that    he    nis   somdele 

derke. 

But  what  the  let  is  of  that  werke 
In  almagest l  it  telleth  this. 
The  Mone"s  cercle  so  lowe  is, 
Wherof  the  Sonne  out  of  his  stage 
Ne  seth  him  nought  with  full  visdge 
For  he  is  with  the  ground  beshaded, 
So  that  the  Mone  is  somdele  faded 
And  may  nought  fully  shine*  clere. 
But  what  man  under  his  powere 
Is  bore,  he  shall  his  plac£  chaunge 
And  secne*  many  londe's  straunge. 

l  Almagest,  Ptolemy's  collection  of  the  ob 
servations  of  the  old  astronomers. 


is  the  Science 

Of  wisdom  and  of  high  conning 
Which  maketh  a  man  have  knou- 

leching 

Of  sterrds  in  the  fermament, 
Figure*,  cercle  and  movement 
Of  eche  of  hem  in  sondry  place, 
And  what  betwene  hem  is  of  space, 
How  so  they  move  or  stondd  fast, 
All  this  it  telleth  to  the  last. 
Assembled  with  Astronomy 
Is  eke  that  ilke  Astrology, 
The  which  in  jugements  accompteth 
Theflfect  what  every  sterre  amount- 

eth. 

And  how  they  causen  many  a  wonder 
To  the  climdts1  that    stond  hem 

under. 

And  for  to  telle  it  mor£  pleine 
These  oldd  philosophres  saine 
That  orbis  which  I  spake  of  er 
Is  that  which  we  fro  therthe  afer 
Beholde,  and  firmament  it  calle, 
In  which  the  sterres  stonden  alle, 
Among  the  which  in  specidll 
Planete*s  seven  principal! 
There    ben,    that   mannas    sighte 

demeth 

By  thorizont  as  to  us  semeth. 
And  also  there  ben  Signe*s  twelve, 
Which  have  her  cercles  by  hem  selve 
Compdsse'd  in  the  zodiaque 
In  which  they  have  her  places  take, 
And  as  they  stonden  in  degre 
Her  cercles  more  or  lasse  be 
Made  after  the  proporti6n 
Of  therthe',  whose  condicion 
Is  set  to  be  the  foundame*nt 
To  susteigne  up  the  firmament. 
And  by  this  skill  a  man  may  knowe, 
The  mor£  that  they  stonden  lowe 
The  mor£  ben  the  cercles  lasse, 
That  causeth  why  that  some*  passe 
Her  dud  cours  to-fore  an  other. 

1  C/itftiits,  regions,  climes. 


350 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  as  of  this  condicion 
The  Mones  disposicidn 
Upon  the  londe  of  Alemaigne 
Is  set,  and  eke  upon  Britaigne, 
Which  is  now  cleped  Engelonde, 
For  they  travaile  in  every  londe. 
"  Of  the  Planetes  the  seconde 
Above   the    Mone    hath    take  his 

bonde 

Mercure,  and  his  nature  is  this, 
That  under  him  who  that  bore  is, 
In  boke  he  shall  be  studious 
And  in  writinge  curious 
And  slowe  and  lustles  to  travaile 
In  thing  whiche  elles  might  availe. 
He  loveth  ese,  he  loveth  rest, 
So  is  he  nought  the  worthiest. 
But  with  somdele  besinesse 
His  hert  is  set  upon  richesse. 
And  as  in  this  condicion 
Theffect  and  disposicion 
Of  this  Planete  and  of  his  chaunce 
Is  most  in  Borgone  and  in  Fraunce. 
Next  to  Mercure  as  woll  befalle 
Stant  that  Planete  which  men  calle 
Venus,  whose  constellacidn 
Governeth  all  the  nacidn 
Of  lovers,  where  they  spede  or  none, 
Of  which  I  trowe  thou  be  one. 
But  whiderward  thin  happes  wende, 
Shall  this  Planete  shewe  at  ende, 
As  it  hath  do  to  many  mo, 
To  some  wel,  to  some  wo. 
And  netheles  of  this  Planete 
The  most  party  is  softe  and  swete. 
"  For  who  that  therof  taketh  his 

berth 

He  shall  desire  joy  and  merth, 
Gentil,  curteis  and  debonaire 
To  speke  his  wordes  softe  and  faire, 
Such  shall  he  be  by  wey  of  kinde. 
And  over  all  where  he  may  finde 
Plesaunce  of  love,  his  lierte  boweth 
With  all   his  might  and   ther  he 

woweth. 


Venus  of  love  the  goddesse 
Is  cleped,  but  of  wantonesse 
The  climate  of  her  lechery 
Is  most  comune  in  Lumbardy. 

t(  Next  unto  this  Planete  of  love 
The  brighte  Sonne  stant  above, 
Which  is  the  hinderer  of  the  night 
And  furtherer  of  the  daies  light, 
As  he  which  is  the  worldes  eye, 
Through  whom  the  lusty  compaignie 
Of  foules  by  the  morwe  singe, 
The    freshe    floures    sprede    and 

springe, 

Thehighetre  the  ground  beshadeth, 
And  every  manne's  herte  gladdeth. 
And  for  it  is  the  Hede  Planete, 
How  that  he  sitteth  in  his  fete, 
Of  what  richesse,  of  what  nobley 
These  boke's  telle,  and  thus  they 

say. 
"  Of  golde  glistrend  spoke  and 

whele 
The  sonne  his  carte l  hath  faire  and 

wele, 

In  whiche  he  sitte,  and  is  cordned 
With  brighte  stones  environed, 
Of  which  if  that  I  speke  shall 
There  be  to-fore  in  specidll 
Set  in  the  front  of  his  cordne 
Thre  stones,  which  that  no  persdne 
Hath  upon  erthe,  and  the  first  is 
By  name  cleped  licuchis. 
That  other  two  be  cleped  thus 
Astrices  and  ceramius. 
In  his  cordne,  also  behinde, 
By  olde  bokes  as  I  finde, 
There  ben  of  worthy  stones  thre 
Set  ech  of  hem  in  his  degre, 
Wherof  a  cristall  is  that  one, 
Which  that  cordne  is  set  upon. 
The  seconde  is  an  adamant. 
The  thridde  is  noble  and  avenaunt, 
Which  cleped  is  ydriades. 
And  over  this  yet  netheles 

1  Carte,  chariot. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      351 


Upon  the  side's  of  the  werke, 
After  the  writing  of  the  clerke, 
There  sitten  five  stone's  mo, 
The  smaragdine  is  one  of  tho, 
Jaspis  and  elitropius 
And  vendides  and  jdcinctus. 
Lo,  thus  the  cordne  is  beset, 
Wherof  it  shineth  well  the  bet, 
And  in  such  wise  his  light  to  sprede 
Sit  with  his  diaddme  on  hede 
The  sonnd  shinend  in  his  carte. 
And  for  to  lede  him  swithe  and 

smarte 

After  the  brighte  daies  lawe 
There  ben  ordeindd  for  to  drawe 
Four  hors  his  chare  and  him  withall, 
Wherof  the  names  telle  I  shall. 
Eritheus  the  first  is  hote, 
The  which  is  red  and  shineth  hote, 
The  second  Acteds  the  bright, 
Lampds  the  thridde  courser  hight, 
And  Philoge'us  is  the  ferth, 
That  bringen  light  unto  this  erth 
And    gone    so    swifte    upon    the 

heven, 

In  foure  and  twenty  houres  even 
The  carte*  with  the  brighte'  sonne 
They  drawd,  so  that  over  ronne 
They  have  under  the  cercles  high 
All  middel  erthe  in  suche  an  hie.1 
"And  thus  the  sonne  is  over  all 
The  Chefe  Planele  imperial!, 
Above  him  and  beneth  him  thre 
And  thus  betvvene  hem  regneth  he 
As  he  that  hath  the  middel  place 
Among  the  Seven,  and  of  his  face 
Be  glad  all  erthly  creatures 
And  taken  after  the  natures 
Her  ese  and  recreacidn. 
And  in  his  constellacidn 
Who  that  is  bore  in  specidll, 
Of  good  will  and  of  liberall 
He  shall  be  founde  in  alld  place 
And  also  stonde  in  mochel  grace 

1   l/!f,  haste. 


Toward  the  lordds  for  to  serve 
And  great  profile  and  thank  de 
serve. 

And  over  that  it  causeth  yit 
A  man  to  be  subtfl  of  wit, 
To  worch  in  golde,  and  to  be  wise 
In  every  thing  which  is  of  prise. 
But  for  to  speken  in  what  coste 
Of  all  this  erth  he  regneth  moste, 
As  for  wisdom  it  is  in  Grece, 
Where  is  appropred  thilkd  spiece. 

"  Mars  the  plandtd  bataillous 
Next  to  the  sonne'  glorious 
Above  slant  and  doth  merveiles 
Upon  the  fortune  of  batailes. 
The  conquerours  by  dale's  olde 
Were  unto  this  plane'te'  holde. 
But  who  that  his  nativitd 
Hath  take  upon  the  propretd 
Of  Maries  disposici6n 
By  wey  of  constellacidn, 
He  shall  be  fiers  and  fool  hastife 
And  desirous  of  werre  and  slrife. 
But  for  to  tellen  redely 
In  what  climdte  mosl  communly 
That  this  Plane'te  halh  his  effecte, 
Said  is,  that  he  hath  his  aspecle 
Upon  the  Haly  Londe  so  cast, 
That  there  is  no  pees  sleddfasl. 

"  Above*  Mars  upon  the  heven 
The  Sixtd  Planete  of  the  Seven 
Slant  Jupiter  the  delicate, 
Which  causelh  pees  and  no  debale. 
For  he  is  clepdd  the  Plane'te, 
Which  of  his  kindd  softe  and  swete 
Altempreth  all  lhat  to  him  longeth. 
And   whom    this    Planete    under- 

fongeth 

To  stonde  upon  his  regiment,1 
He  shall  be  meke  and  pacieV.t 
And  fortunate  to  marchandy 
And  lusty  to  delfcacy 
In  every  thing  which  he  shall  do. 
This  Jupiter  is  cause  also 


35  2 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Of  the  science  of  lighte  werkes, 
And  in  this  wise  tellen  clerkes 
He  is  the  planete  of  delices. 
But  in  Egipte  of  his  offices 
He  regneth  most  in  speciall, 
For  there  be  lustes  over  all 
Of  all  that  to  this  life  befalleth. 
For  there  no  stormy  weder  falleth, 
Which  mighte  greve  man  or  beste, 
And  eke  the  londe  is  so  honeste, 
That  it  is  plenteous  and  pleine, 
There  is  no  idel  ground  in  veine. 
And  upon  such  felicite 
Stant  Jupiter  in  his  degre. 

"  The  highest  and  aboven  alle 
Stant  that  Planete,  which  men  calle 
Saturnus,  whose  complexion 
Is  colde,  and  his  condicion 
Causeth  malice  and  cruelte* 
To  him  the  whose  nativite 
Is  set  under  his  governaunce. 
For  all  his  werkes  ben  grevaunce 
And  enemy  to  mannes  hele, 
In  what  degre  that  he  shall  dele. 
His  climate  is  in  orient, 
Where  that  he  is  most  violent. 
"  Of  the  Planetes  by  and  by, 
How  that  they  stonde  upon  the  sky, 
Fro  point  to  point  as  thou  might  here 
Was  Alisaundre  made  to  lere. 
But  over  this  touchend  his  lore 
Of  thing  that  they  him  taughtemore 
Upon  the  scoles  of  clergy, 
Now  herken  the  philosophy. 

"  He  which  departeth  day  fronight, 
That  one  derke  that  other  bright, 
Of  seven  daies  made  a  weke  ; 
A  month  of  fourd  wekes  eice, 
He  hath  ordeine'd  in  his  lawe  ; 
Of  monthes  twelve  and  eke  forth- 

drawe 

He  hath  also  the  longe  yere. 
And  as  he  set  of  his  pbwere 
Accordaunt  to  the  daies  seven 
Planetes  seven  upon  the  heven, 


As  thou  to-fore  hast  herd  devise, 
To  speke  right  in  such  a  wise 
To  every  monthe  by  him  selve 
Upon  the  heven,  of  signes  twelve 
He  hath  after  his  ordinall 
Assigned  one  in  specid.ll, 
Wherof  so  as  I  shall  rehercen 
The  tides  of  the  yere  diversen. 
But  pleinly  for  to  make  it  knowe 
How  that  the  signes  sit  a  rowe, 
Eche  after  other  by  degre 
In  substaunce  and  in  proprete" 
'Qfye  sobidqu^  comprehended! 
Within  his  cercle  and  it  appendeth. 

"  The  firste  of  whiche  netheles 
By  name  is  cleped  Aries, 
Which  lich  a  wether  of  stature 
Resembled  is  in  his  figure. 
And  as  it  saith  in  almageste 
Of  sterres  twelve  upon  this  beste 
Ben  set,  wherof  in  his  degre 
The  wombe  hath  two,  the  heved 

hath  thre, 

The  taile  hath  seven,  and  in  this  wise, 
As  thou  might  here  me  devise, 
Stant  Aries,  which  hote  and  drie 
Is  of  him  self,  and  in  partie 
He  is  the  receipt  and  the  hous 
Of  mighty  Mars  the  batailous. 
And  overmore  eke  as  I  finde 
The  Creator  of  alle  kinde 
Upon  this  Signe  first  began 
The  world,  whan  that  he  made  man, 
And  of  this  constellacidn 
The  verray  operacion 
Availeth,  if  a  man  therinne 
The  purpose  of  his  werk  beginne, 
For  than  he  hath  of  proprete 
Good  spede  and  great  felicite. 

"  The  twelve  monthes  of  the  yere 
Attitled  under  the  po we're 
Of  these  twelve  signes  stonde, 
Wherof  that  thou  shalt  understonde 
This  Aries  out  of  the  twelve 
Hath  Marche  attitled  for  him  selve, 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT. 


353 


Whan  every  brid  shall  chese  his 

make, 

And  every  nedder  and  every  snake 
And  every  reptile  which  may  move, 
His  might  assaieth  for  to  prove 
To  crepen  out  ayein  the  sonne, 
Whan  Ver1  hisseson  hath  begonne. 
"  Taurus  the  seconde  after  this 
Of  Signes  which  figured  is 
Unto  a  built?,  drie  and  colde, 
And  as  it  is  in  bokes  tolde 
He  is  the  hotis  appurtenaunt 
To  Venus  somdele  descordaiint. 
This  bulle  is  eke  with  sterres  set, 
Through  which  he  hath  his  homes 

knet 

Unto  the  taile  of  Aries, 
So  is  he  nought  there  sterrdlds. 
Upon  his  brest  eke  eightetene 
He  hath,  and  eke  as  it  is  sene 
Upon  his  tail  stonde  other  two. 
His  month  assigndd  eke  also 
Is  Averil,  which  of  his  shoures 
Minfstreth  way  unto  the  floures. 

"  The  thriddd  Signe  is  Gemini, 
Which  is  figured  redely 
Lich  to  two  twinnes  of  man  kinde, 
That  naked    stonde.      And    as    I 

finde, 

They  ben  with  sterr£s  wel  bego, 
The  heved  hath  parte  of  thilkd  two, 
That  shine  upon  the  builds  taile, 
So  ben  they  both  of  o  parade. 
But  on  the  wombe  of  Gemini 
Ben  five*  sterrds  nought  forth£. 
And  eke  upon  the  fete  be  twey, 
So  as  these  oldd  bokes  say, 
That  wisd  Tholomeus  wrote. 
His  propre  monthd  wel  I  wote 
Assigndd  is  the  lusty  May, 
Whan  every  brid  upon  his  lay 
Among  the  grend  levds  singeth, 
And  love  of  his  pointiird  stingeth 
After  the  lawes  of  nature 

1  Ver,  the  Spring. 


The  youthe  of  every  creature, 

"Cancer  after  thereuleand  space 
Of  Signds  halt  the  forthd  place. 
Like  to  the  crabbe  he  hath  sem- 

blaunce 

And  hath  unto  his  retinaunce 
Sixtene  sterrds,  wherof  ten, 
So  as  these  oldd  wise  men 
Descrive,  he  bereth  on  him  to-fore 
And  in  the  middle  two  before 
And  four  he  hath  upon  his  ende, 
Thus  goth  he  sterred  in  his  kende. 
And  of  him  self  is  moist  and  colde 
And  is  the  propre  hous  and  holde 
Which  apperteineth  to  the  Mone 
And  doth  what  longeth  him  to  done. 
The  month  of  Juin  unto  this  Signe 
Thou  shalte  after  the  reule  assigne. 

"  The  fifte  Signe  is  Leo  hole, 
Whos  kinde  is  shape  drie  and  hole, 
In  whom  the  Sonne  hath  herber- 

gage. 

And  the  semblaunce  of  his  ymige 
Is  a  Icon,  which  in  baillie 
Of  sterrds  hath  his  purpartie, 
The  fourd  which  as  Cancer  hath 
Upon  his  endd,  Leo  tath 
Upon  his  heved,  and  thanne'  neste 
He  hath  eke  foure  upon  his  breste, 
And  one  upon  his  tail  behinde. 
In  oldd  bokds  as  we  finde. 
His  propre  month  is  Juil  by  name, 
In  which  men  pleien  many  a  game. 

**  After  Led  Virg6  the  nexte 
Of  Signes  clepdd  is  the  sexte, 
Wherof  the  figure  is  a  maide, 
And  as  the  philosophre  saide, 
She  is  the  welth  and  the  risfng, 
The  lust,  the  joy  and  the  liking 
Unto  Mercure.     And  soth  to  say 
She  is  with  sterres  well  beseie, 
Wherof  Led  hath  lent  her  one, 
Which  sit  on  high  her  heved  upon. 
Her  wombe  hath  five,  her  fete  also 
Have  other  five,  and  ever  mo 


354 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Touchend  as  of  complexion 

By  kindly  disposition 

Of  drie  and  cold  this  maiden  is. 

And  for  to  tellen  over  this 

Her  month  as  thou  shake  tmder- 

stonde, 
Whan  every  felde   hath  conic  in 

honde 
And  many  a  man  his  backe  hath 

plied, 
Unto  this  signe  is  Angst  applied. 

'•'  After  Virgo  to  reknen  even 
Libra  sit  in  the  nombre  of  seven, 
Which  hath  figure  and  resemblaunce 
Unto  a  man  which  a  balaunce 
Bereth  in  his  honde  as  for  to  weie, 
In  boke  and  as  it  may  be  seie. 
Diverse  sterrcs  to  him  longeth, 
Wherof  on  heved  he  underfongeth 
First  thre,  and  eke  his  wombe  hath 

two, 

And  down  beneth  eight  other  mo. 
This  signe  is  hote  and  moiste  both, 
The  whiche  thinges  be  nought  loth 
Unto  Venus,  so  that  alofte 
She  resteth  in  his  hous  full  ofte, 
And  eke  Saturnus  often  hied 
Is  in  this  signe  and  magnified. 
H is  propre  month  is  said  Septembre, 
Which  yiveth    men   cause  to   re- 

membre, 

If  any  sore  be  left  behinde 
Of  thing  which  greve  may  to  kinde. 
"  Among  the  Signes  upon  height 
The  signe,  whiche  is  nombred  eight, 
Is  Scorpio,  which  as  felon 
Figiirdd  is  a  Scorpion. 
But  for  all  that  yet  nethelesse 
Is  Scorpio  nought  sterrelesse. 
For  Libra  graunteth  him  his  ende 
Of  eighte  sterres,  where  he  wende, 
The  which  upon  his  heved  assised 
Hebereth,  and  eke  there  ben  devised 
Upon  his  wombe  sterre's  thre 
And  eight  upon  his  taile  hath  he. 


Which  of  his  kinde  is  moist  and  colde 
And  unbehovely  manyfolde. 
He  harmeth  Venus  and  empeircth, 
But  Mars  unto  his  hous  repeireth, 
But  ware  whan  they  to-gider  dwellen. 
His  propre  monthe  is,  as  men  tellen, 
Octobre,  which  bringeth  the  kalende 
Of  Winter,  that  comethnext  suendc. 
"  The  ninth  signe  in  Novembre 

also, 

Which  folweth  after  Scorpio, 
Is  cleped  Sagittarius, 
The  vvhos  figure  is  marked  thus  ; 
A  monstre  with  a  bowe  on  honde, 
On  whom  that  sondry  sterres  stonde, 
Thilke  eight  of  whiche  I  spake  to- 
fore, 

The  which  upon  the  tail  ben  lore 
Of  Scorpio  the  heved  all  faire 
Be  spreden  of  the  Sagittaire, 
And  eight  of  other  stonden  even 
Upon  his  wombe,  and  other  seven 
There  stonden  on  his  tail  behinde, 
And  he  is  hote  and  drie  of  kinde. 
To  Jupiter  his  hous  is  fre. 
But  to  Mercure  in  his  degre, 
For  they  be  nought  of  one  assent, 
He  worcheth  great  empeirement. 
This  signe  hath  of  his  proprete 
A  monthe,  whiche  of  duete 
After  the  seson  that  befalleth 
The  ploughe's  oxe  in  winter  stalleth. 
And  fire  into  the  halle  he  bringeth 
And  thilke  drinke  of  which  men 

singeth, 

He  torneth  must  into  the  wine, 
Than  is  the  larder  of  the  swine. 
That  is  Novembre  which  I  mene, 
Whan  that  the  leef  hath  lost  his  grene 
11  Thetenthc  Signe  drie  and  colde, 
The  which  is  Capricornus  tolde, 
Unto  a  gote  hath  resemblaunce. 
For  whose  love  and  aqueintaunce 
Within  his  house  to  sojorne 
It  liketh  well  unto  Satorne. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT. 


355 


But  to  the  Mone  it  liketh  nought, 
P'or  no  profit  is  therd  wrought. 
This  Signe  as  of  his  propretd 
Upon  his  hcvccl  hath  sterrcs  thre 
And  eke  upon  his  vvombe  two 
And  twey  upon  his  taile  also. 
Decembre  after  the  yerds  forme, 
So  as  the  poke's  us  en  forme, 
With  date's  shortc  and  nightes  longc 
This  ilkd  Signe  hath  underfonge. 

"  Of  tho  that  sitte  upon  theheven 
Of  Signes  in  the  nonibre  elleven 
Aquarius  hath  take  his  place 
And  slant  well  in  Satornds  grace, 
Which  dwelleth  in  his  herbergage. 
But  to  the  Sonne  he  doth  oultrage. 
This  Signe  is  verraily  resembled 
Lich  to  a  man  which  halte  assembled 
In  eJther  honde  a  water  spout, 
Wherof  the  stremds  rennen  out. 
He  is  of  kindd  moist  and  hote, 
And  he  that  of  the  stdrres  wote 
Saith,  that  he  hath  of  sterrds  two 
Upon  his  heved,  and  bene  of  tho 
That  Capricorn  hath  on  his  ende. 
And  as  the  bokds  makcn  minde 
That  Tholomdus  made  him  selve, 
He  hath  eke  on  his  wombd  twelve, 
And  twey  upon  his  ende  stonde. 
Thou  shalte  also  this  understonde, 
The  frosty  coldd  Janevere, 
Whan  comen  is  the  newd  yere, 
That  Janus  with  the  double  face 
In  his  chare  hath  take  his  place 
And  loketh  upon  bothe  sides 
Some  dele  toward  the  winter  tides, 
Some  dele  toward  the  yere  suende, 
That  is  the  monthd  belongdnde 
Unto  this  Signe,  and  of  his  dole 
He  yiveth  the  firste  primerole.1 

"  The  twelfthd,  which  is  last  of  alle 
Of  signds,  Piscis  men  it  calle, 
The  which,  as  telleth  the  scripture, 
Bereth  of  two  fisshes  the  figure. 


So  is  he  colde  and  moist  of  kinde, 
And  eke  with  sterrds  as  I  finde 
Beset  in  sondry  wise,  as  thus 
Two  of  his  ende  Aquarius 
Hath  lent  unto  his  heved,  and  two 
This  Signe  hath  of  his  owne  also 
Upon  his  wombe,  and  over  this 
Upon  his  ende  also  there  is 
A  nombre  of  twenty  sterres  bright, 
Which  is  to  sene  a  wonder  sight. 
Toward  this  signe  into  his  hous 
Comth  Jupiter  the  glorious, 
And  Venus  eke  with  him  accordcth 
To  dwellen,  as  the  boke  recordeth. 
The  Month  unto  this  signe ordeincd 
Is  Februar,  which  is  bereined. 
And  with  londtlodes  in  his  rage 
At  fordes  letteth  J  the  passage. 

**  Nowhastthouherd  the  propretc 
Of  Signes,  but  in  his  degre 
Albumazare  yet  over  this 
Saith,  so  as  therthe  parted  is 
!   In  fourd,  right  so  ben  devised 
i  The  signds  t\velve,and  stonde  assised 

That  eche  of  hem  in  his  panic 
I  Hath  his  climate  to  justirie. 
Wherof  the  firste  regiment 
Toward  the  parte  of  orient 
From  Antioche  and  that  centre 
Govdrndd  is  of  Signds  thre, 
That  is  Cancdr,  Virgo,  Leo. 
And  towarde  Occident  also 
P'rom  Armeny,  as  I  am  lerned, 
Of  Capricorne  it  slant  governed, 
Of  Piscis  and  Aquarius. 
And  after  hem  I  finde  thus 
Southward  fro  Alisaundre  forth 
Tho  Signes,  whiche  most  ben  worth 
In  governaunce  of  that  doaire,- 
Libra  they  ben  and  Sagillaire 
With  Scorpio,  which  is  conjoint 
With  hem  to  stonde  upon  that  point 
Of  Constantnople  ihe  citc:, 
So  as  the  bdkes  tellen  me. 

1  Lfttct'it  hinder*.  •  Voairt,  province. 


356 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  last  of  this  division 
Stant  untoward  Septemtrion, 
Where  as  by  wey  of  purveiaunce 
Hath  Aries  the  governaunce 
Forth  with  Taurus  and  Gemini. 
Thus  ben  the  Signes  proprely 
Devided,  as  it  is  reherced, 
Wherof  the  londes  ben  diversed. 

"<£o  f!)U5,  ntp  sone,  as  thou 

might  here, 

Was  Alisaundre  made  to  lere 
Of  hem  that  weren  for  his  lore. 
But  now  to  loken  overmore 
Of  other  sterres  how  they  fare 
I  thenke  hereafter  to  declare, 
So  as  king  Alisaundre  in  youth 
Of  him  that  suche  signes  couth 
Enformed  was  to-fore  his  eye 
By  night  upon  the  sterres  sigh. 

"  Upon  sondry  creacion 
Stant  sondry  operacion, 
Some  worcheth  this,  some  worcheth 

that ; 

The  fire  is  hote  in  his  estate 
And  brenneth  whathemayatteigne, 
The  water  may  the  fire  restreigne, 
The  which  is  colde  and  moist  also. 
Of  other  thinge  it  fareth  right  so 
Upon  this  erthe  among  us  here. 
And  for  to  speke  in  this  mane're 
Upon  the  heven,  as  men  may  finde 
The  sterrds  ben  of  sondry  kinde 
And  worchen  many  sondry  thinges 
To  us  that  bene  her  underlinges. 
Among  the  which£  forth  withall 
Nectanabus  in  special!, 
Which  was  an  astronomien 
And  eke  a  great  magicien 
And  undertake  hath  thilke  emprise, 
To  Alisaundre  in  his  apprise 
As  of  magique  naturele 
To  knowe,  enformeth  him  somdele 
Of  certein  sterres  what  they  mene, 
Of  which  he  saith  there  ben  fiftene. 
And  sondrily  to  everichone 


A  gras  belongeth  and  a  stone, 
Wherof    men    worchen     many    a 

wonder 
To  sette  thing  bothe  up  and  under. 

"  To  telle  right  as  he  began 
The  firste  sterre  Aldeboran, 
The  clerest  and  the  most  of  alle, 
By  righte  name  men  it  calle, 
Which  liche  is  of  condition 
To  Mars  and  of  complexion 
To  Venus,  and  hath  therupon 
Carbunculum  his  propre  stone. 
His  herbe  is  Anabulla  named, 
Which  is  of  great  vertue  proclamed. 

"  The  seconde  is  nought  vertules 
Clota,  or  elles  Pliades 
It  hatte  and  of  the  Mones  kinde 
He  is.      And  also  this  I  finde, 
He  taketh  of  Mars  complexion,    • 
And  lich  to  such  condition 
His  stone  appropred  is  Cristall, 
And  eke  his  herbe  in  speciall 
The  vertuous  Fene"!  it  is. 

"  The  thridde,  which  comth  after 

this, 

Is  hote  Algol  the  clere  rede, 
Whiche  of  Satorne  as  I  may  rede 
His  kinde  taketh  and  eke  of  Jove 
Complexion  to  his  behove. 
His  propre  stone  is  Diamannt, 
Which  is  to  him  most  accordaunt. 
His  herbe,  which  is  him  betake, 
Is  hote  Eleborum  the  blacke. 

"  So  as  it  falleth  upon  lot 
The  fourthe  sterre  is  Alhaiot, 
Which  in  the  wise  as  I  saide  er 
Of  Satorne  and  of  Jupiter 
Hath  take  his  kinde,  and  therupon 
The  Saphir  is  his  propre  stone, 
Marrubium  his  herbe  also, 
The  which  accorden  bothe  two. 

"  And  Canis  major  in  his  like 
The  fifte  sterre  is  of  magique, 
The  whose  kinde  is  Venerien, 
As  saith  this  astronomien. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING   JIMS  TAUGHT.      357 


His  propre  stone  is  said  Berille, 
But  for  to  worche  and  to  fulfille 
Thing  which  to  this  Scidnc^  falleth, 
There    is    an    herb<5,    which    men 

calleth 

Saveine,  and  that  behoveth  nede 
To  him  that  woll  his  purpos  spede. 

"  The  sixte  suende  after  this 
By  name  Canis  minor  is. 
The  which  sterre  is  Mercuriall 
By  wey  of  kinde,  and  forth  withall 
As  it  is  writen  in  the  carte 
Complexion  he  taketh  of  Marte. 
His  stone  and  herbe  as  saith  the 

scole 
Ben  Achates  and  Primerole. 

"  The  seventh  sterre  in  special! 
Of  this  Science  is  Ariall, 
Which  sondry  nature  underfongeth. 
The  stone  which  propre  unto  him 

longeth, 

Gorgonza  proprely  it  hight. 
His  herbe  also,  which  he  shall  right, 
Upon  the  worching  as  I  mene 
Is  Celidoine  fresshe  and  grene. 

"  Sterre  Ala  corvi  upon  height 
Hath  take  his  place  in  nombre  of 

eight, 

Which  of  his  kinde  mot  performe 
The  will  of  Marte  and  of  Satorne, 
To  whom  Lapacia  the  gret 
Is  herbe,  but  of  no  beyete. 
His  stone  is  Honochinus  hote, 
Through  which  men  worchen  great 

riote. 

"  The  ninthe  sterre' faire  andv/ele 
By  name  is  hote  Alaezele, 
Which  taketh  his  propre  kinde  thus 
Bothe  of  Mercure  and  of  Venus. 
His  stone  is  the  grene  Emeraude 
To  whom  is  yoven  many  a  laude. 
Saulge  is  his  herbe  appurtenaunt 
Aboven  all  the  remenaunt. 

"  The  tenthe  sterre  is  Almareth, 
Which  upon  life  and  upon  deth 


Through  kinde  of  Jupiter  and  Marte 
He  doth  what  longeth  to  his  parte. 
His  stone  is  Jaspe  and  of  Plantaine 
He  hath  his  herbe'  soveraine. 

"  The  sterre  eleventh  is  Venenas, 
The  whose  nature  is,  as  it  was, 
Take  of  Venus  and  of  the  Mone 
In  thing  which  he  hath  for  to  done. 
Of  Adamaunt  is  that  pcrrie, 
In  whiche  he  worcheth  his  maistrie. 
Thilke  herbe  also,  which  him  be- 

falleth, 
Cicorea  the  boke  him  calleth. 

"  Alpheta  in  the  nombre  sit 
And  is  the  twelfte  sterre  yit, 
Of  Scorpio  which  is  governed, 
And  taketh  his  kinde  as  I  am  lerned 
And  hath  his  vertue  in  the  stone 
Which  cleped  is  Topazion. 
His  herbe  propre  is  Rosmarine, 
Which  shapen  is  for  his  covine. 

"  Of  these'  sterres  which  I  mene, 
Cor  Scorpionis  is  thrittene, 
The  whos  natiir£  Mart  and  Jove 
Have  yoven  unto  his  behove. 
His  herbe  is  aristolochy,1 
Which  folweth  his  astronomy. 
The  stone'  which  this  sterre  alloweth, 
Is  Sardis  which  unto  him  boweth. 

"  The  sterre  which  slant  next  the 

last, 

Nature  of  him  this  name  cast 
And  clepen  him  Botercadent, 
Which  of  his  kind  obedie'nt 
Is  to  Mercure  and  to  Venus. 
His  stone  is  said  Crisolitus. 
His  herbe  is  cleped  Satureie, 
So  as  these  olde  boke's  saie. 

"  But  now  the  laste  sterre  of  allc 
The  Taile  of  Scorpio  men  calle, 
Which  to  Mercure  and  to  Satorne 
By  wey  of  kinde  mot  retorne 

1  A ristolochy,  miswritten  ' '  astrology."  Cor 
nelius  Agrippa,  De  Occult.  Phil.,  Lib.  I.,  cap. 
32,  gives  the  plants  under  Cor  Scorpienis  as 
Aristolochi.i  and  Crocus. 


358 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


After  the  preparation 

Of  due  constellation. 

The  Calcidoine  unto  him  longeth 

Which  for  his  stone  heunderfongeth. 

Of  Majoran  his  herbe  is  grounded. 

Thus    have   I   said  how  they  ben 

founded 

Of  every  sterre  in  special!, 
Which    hath  his  herbe  and  stone 

withall, 

As  Hermes  in  his  bokes  olde 
Witnessd  bereth,  of  that  I  tolde. 
"  Now  hast  thou  herd,  in  suche 

a  wise 

These  noble  philosophres  wise 
Enformeden  this  yonge  king 
And  made  him  have  a  knouleching 
Of  thing  which  first  to  the  partie 
Belongeth  of  philosophic, 
Which  Theorfque  cleped  is, 
As  thou  to-fore  hast  herde  er  this. 
But  now  to  speke  of  the  seconde, 
Whiche  Aristotle  hath  also  founde 
And  techeth  how  to  speke  faire, 
Whiche  is  a  thing  full  necessaire 
To  counterpoise  the  balaunce, 
Where  lacketh  other  suffisaunce. 

"Above  all  erthly  creatures 
The  Highe  Maker  of  natures 
The  Word  to  man  hath  yove  alone, 
So  that  the  speche  of  his  persone 
Or  for  to  lese,  or  for  to  winne 
The     hertes     thought    which     is 

withinne, 

May  shewe  what  it  wolde  mene. 
And  that  is  no  where  elles  sene 
Of  kinde  with  none  other  beste. 
So  shulde  he  be  the  more  hone'st, 
To  whom  God  yaf  so  worthy  a  yifte, 
And  loke  well  that  he  ne  shifte 
His  Wordes  to  none  wicked  use, 
For  Word  the  techer  of  vertuse 
Is  cleped  in  philosophy. 
Wherof  touchende  this  party 
Is  rhetorique  the  science 


Appropred  to  the  reverence 
Of  Wordes  that  ben  resonable. 
And  for  this  art  shall  be  vail  able 
With  goodly  wordes  for  to  like 
It  hath  Gramaire,  it  hath  Logique, 
That  serven  both  unto  the  speche. 
Gramaire  first  hath  for  to  teche 
To  speke  upon  congruite. 
Logique  hath  eke  in  his  degre 
Betwene  the  trouthe  and  the  fals- 

hode 

The  pleine  wordes  for  to  shode,1 
So  that  nothing  shall  go  beside 
That  he  the  right  ne  shall  decide, 
WTherof  full  many  a  great  debate 
Reformed  is  to  good  estate 
And  pees  susteigned  up  alofte 
With  esy  wordes  and  with  softe, 
Where  strengthe  shulde  let  it  falle. 
The  philosophre  amonges  alle 
Forthy  commendeth  this  science, 
Which  hath  the  reule  of  eloquence. 
In  stone  and  gras  vertue  there  is, 
But  yet  the  bokes  tellen  this, 
ThatWorde  above  all  erthly  thingcs 
Is  vertuous  in  his  dofnges, 
Where  so  it  be  to  evil  or  good. 
For  if  the  Wordes  semen  good 
And  be  well  spoke  at  mannes  ere 
Whan  that  there  is  no  trouthe  there, 
They  done  full  oft  full  great  deceipt. 
For  whan  the  Word  to  the  conceipt 
Descordeth  in  so  double  a  wise, 
Such  Rhetorfque  is  to  despise 
In  every  place  and  for  to  drede. 

"  For  of  Ulixes  thus  I  rede, 
As  in  the  boke  of  Troy  is  founde, 
His  eloquence  and  his  facoiinde 
Of  goodly  worde's  which  he  tolde 
Hath    made    that    Anthenor    him 

solde 

The  town  whichehe  with  treson  wan. 
Worde  hath  beguiled  many  a  man, 
With  word  the  wilde  beste  is  daunted, 

1  Shode,  divide,  discriminate. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      359 


With    word    the    serpent    is    en- 

chaunted, 

Of  worde's  mong  the  men  of  armes 
Ben     woundes     heldd     with     the 

charmes, 

Where  lacketh  other  medicine 
Worde  hath  under  his  discipline 
Of  sorcerid  the  carectes. 
The  worde's  ben  of  sondry  sectes, 
Of  evil  and  eke  of  good  also. 
The  worde's  maken  frende  of  fo, 
And  fo  of  frende,  and  pees  of  werre, 
And  werre  of  pees,  and  out  of  herre 
The  word  the  worldes  cause  en- 

triketh 

And  reconciled!  who  on  him  liketh. 
The  worde  under  the  cope  of  heven 
Set  every  thing  or  odde  or  even. 
With  word  the  Highe  God  is  plesed, 
With  word  the  worde's  ben  appesed. 
The  softe  word  the  loudd  stilleth, 
Where  lacketh  good  the  word  ful- 

filleth 

To  make  amendes  for  the  wronge. 
Whan  worde's  medlen  with  the  songe, 
It  doth  plesaunce  well  the  more. 
But  for  to  loke  upon  the  lore, 
How  Tullius  his  rhetorfque 
Componeth,  there  a  man  may  pike 
How  that  he  shall  his  worde's  set. 
How  he  shall  lose,  howhe shall  knet, 
And  in  what  wise  he   shall    pro 
nounce 

His  tald  pleind  without  frounce. 
Wherof  ensamplc  if  thou  wilt  secfoe, 
Take  hede  and  rede  whilom  the 

speche 

"Of  Julius  and  Cicero, 
Which  consul  was  of  Rome*  tho, 
Of  Caton  eke,  and  of  Silene 
Behold  the  worde's  hem  betwene, 
Whan  the  treson  of  Cateline 
Discovered  was,  and  the  covine 
Of  hem  that  were  of  his  assent 
Was  knowe  and  spoke  inparlement, 


And  axed  howe  and  in  what  wise 
Men  sholdcn  done  him  to  jufse. 
Silanus  first  his  tald  tolde 
To  trouth  and  as  he  was  beholde 
The  comun  profit  for  to  save, 
He  saide  how  treson  shuldc*  have 
A  cruel   dethe.      And    thus   they 

speke, 

The  consul  both  and  Caton  eke, 
And  saiden  that  for  suche  a  wronge 
There  may  no  peind  be  to  stronge. 
But  Julius  with  worde's  wise 
His  tald  tolde  all  other  wise, 
As  he  which  wolde  her  dethe  respfte, 
And  foundeth  howe  he  might  excite 
The  juges  through  his  eloquence 
Fro  deth  to  torne  the  sentdr.ee 
And  set  her  hertes  to  pitd. 
Now  tolden  they,  now  tolde  he : 
They  speken  pleine  after  the  lawe  • 
But  he  the  worde's  of  his  sawe 
Coloiireth  in  an  other  wey   " 
Spekdnd.     And  thus  betwene  the 

twey 

To  trete  upon  this  jugdment 
Made  eche  of  hem  his  argument. 
Wherof  the  tale's  for  to  here 
There  may  a  man  the  scold  lere 
Of  Rhetorfque  the  eloquence, 
Whiche  is  the  seconde  of  Science 
Touchende  to  Philosophic, 
Wherof  a  man  shall  justifie 
His  worde's  in  dispiites6n 
And  knette  upon  conclusion 
His  argument  in  suche  a  forme, 
Which  may  the  pleind  trouthe  en- 
forme 

And  the  subtil  cautele  abate, 
Whiche  every  true  man  shall  debate. 
"The  first(5,  whiche  is  Theoriquc-. 
And  the  secondd  Rhetorique 
Sciences  of  Philosophy, 
I  have  hem  tolde  as  in  party. 
So  as  the  philosophre  it  tolde 
To  Alisaundre.     And  now  I  wolde 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Tell  of  the  thridde,  what  it  is, 
The  which  Practique  cleped  is. 
"  ^rctcftqiicf   stant    upon    thre 

thinges 

Toward  the  governaunce  of  kinges. 
Wherof  the  firste  Ethique  is  named, 
The  whose  Science  stant  proclamed 
To  teche  of  vertue  thilke  reule, 
How  that  a  King  him  self  shall  reule 
Of  his  moral  condition 
With  worthy  disposition, 
Of  good  living  in  his  persone, 
Which  is  the  chefe  of  his  corone. 
It  maketh  a  kinge  also  to  lerne 
Howe  he  his  body  shall  governe, 
Howe  he  shall  wake,  how  he  shall 

slepe, 

How  that  he  shall  his  hele  kepe 
In  mete,  in  drinke,  in  clothing  eke. 
There  is  no  wisdom  for  to  seke 
As  for  the  reule  of  his  persone, 
The  which  that  this  science  allone 
Ne  techeth  as  by  wey  of  kinde 
That  there  is  nothing  left  behinde. 
"  That    other    point,    which    to 

practique 

Belongeth,  is  Economiquc, 
Which  techeth  thilke  honeste, 
Through  which  a  King  in  his  degre 
His  wife  and  child  shal  reule  and 

guie 

So  forth  with  all  the  compaignie 
Which  in  his  houshold  shall  abide, 
And  his  estate  on  every  side 
In  such  manere  for  to  lede 
That  he  his  houshold  ne  mislede. 
"  Practique  hath  yet  the  thridde 

apprise, 

Which  techeth  ho  wand  in  what  wise 
Through  his  purveied  ordenaunce 
A  King  shall  set  in  governaunce 
His  realme,  and  that  is  Policie 
Which  longeth  unto  Regalie 
In  time  of  werre,  in  time  of  pees, 
To  worship  and  to  good  encrees 


Of  clerke,  of  knight,  and  of  mar- 

chaunt, 

And  so  forth  all  the  remenaunt 
Of  all  the  comun  people  about 
Withinne  burgh  and  eke  without 
Of  hem  that  ben  artificers, 
Whiche  usen  craftes  and  mestiers, 
Whose  art  is  cleped  mechanique  ; 
And  though  they  ben  nought  alle 

like, 

Yet  netheles  how  so  it  falle, 
O  l  lavve  mot  governe  hem  alle, 
Or  that  theylese,  or  that  they  winne, 
After  the  state  that  they  ben  inne. 
"  Lo,  thus  this  worthy  yonge  king 
Was  fully  taught  of  every  thing 
Which  mighte  yive  entendement 
Of  good  reule  and  good  regiment 
To  suche  a  worthy  prince  as  he. 
But  of  verrdy  necessite 
The  philosophre  him  hath  betake 
Five  points,  which  he  hath  under 
take 

To  kepe  and  holde  in  observaunce 
As  for  the  worthy  governaunce 
Which  longeth  to  his  Regalie 
After  the  reule  of  Policie. 

"^fo  CDcrg  wan  belongeth  lore, 
But  to  no  man  belongeth  more 
Than  to  a  King  which  hath  to  lede 
The  people  als  for  his  kinghede. 
He  may  hem  bothe  save  and  spille. 
And  for  it  stant  upon  his  wille 
It  sit  him  well  to  ben  avised 
And  the  vertues  which  are  assised 
Unto  a  Kinges  regiment 2 
To  take  in  his  entendement, 
Wherof  to  tellen  as  they  stonde 
Hereafterward  now  woll  I  fonde. 
Among  the  Vertues  one  is  chefe 
And  that  is  Trouthe,  which  is  lefe 
To  God  and  eke  to  man  also. 
And  for  it  hath  ben  ever  so? 
Taught  Aristotle  as  he  well  couth 

1  O:  one.  -  Regiment,  rule. 


BOOK  VIL-HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      361 


To  Alisaundre,  how  in  his  youth 
He  shulde  of  Trouthe  thilke  grace 
With  all  his  hold  hertc  embrace, 
So  that  his  word  betrewe  and  pleine 
Toward  the  world,  and  so  certeine 
That  in  him  be  no  double  speche. 
For  if  men  shulde'  Trouthe  seche 
And  found  it  nought  within  a  King, 
It  were  an  unsittdnde1  thing. 
The  worde  is  token  of  that  within, 
There  shall  a  worthy  king  begin 
To  kepe  his  tunge  and  to  be  trewe, 
So  shall  his  price  ben  ever  newe. 
Avise  him  every  man  to-fore 
And  be  well  ware,  er  he  be  swore, 
For  afterwarde  it  is  to  late 
If  that  he  wolde  his  word  debate. 
For  as  a  King  in  speciall 
Above  all  other  is  principal! 
Of  his  power,  so  shulde  he  be 
Most  vertuous  in  his  degre. 
And  that  may  well  be  signified 
By  his  corone  and  specified. 

"  The  gold  betokneth  excellence, 
That  men  shulddone  him  reverence 
As  to  her  lege  soveraine. 
The  stone's,  as  the  bokes  saine, 
Commended  ben  in  treble  wise. 
First   they  ben   hard    and   thilke 

assise 

Betokeneth  in  a  King  constaunce, 
So  that  there  shall  no  variaunce 
Be  found  in  his  condicion. 
And  also  by  descripti6n 
The  vertue  whiche  is  in  the  stones, 
A  verray  signe  is  for  the  nones 
Of  that  a  king  shall  ben  hone"st 
And  holde  trewely  his  behest 
Of  thing  which  longeth  to  kinghede. 
The  brighte  colour,  as  I  rede, 
Which  is  in  the  stone's  shine'nd, 
Is  in  figure  betokenend 
The  cronique  of  this  worldds  fame 
Which  stant  upon  his  gode  name. 

t  unbecoming. 


The  cercle,  which  is  rounde  aboutc 
Is  token  of  all  the  londe  aboute, 
Which  stant  under  his  gerarchie, 
That  he  it  shall  well  kepe  and  guie. 
And  for  that  Trouthe  how  so  it  falle 
Is  the  Vertue  Soveraine  of  alle 
That  longeth  unto  regiment, 
A  tale*  which  is  evident 
Of  Trouthe  in  commendacidn, 
Toward  thin  enformaci6n, 
My  sone,  herafter  thou  shalt  here 
Of  a  cronique  in  this  matere. 

21s  tf)C  cronique  it  dothrehercc, 
A  soldan  whilom  was  of  Perse, 
Which  Daires  hight,  and  Ytaspis 
His  fader  was.      And  sothe  it  is, 
That    through  wisddm    and    high 

prudence 

More  than  for  any  reverence 
Of  his  ligndge  as  by  descent 
The  regne  of  thilke  empire  he  hent. 
And  as  he  was  him  selfe  wise 
The  wise  men  he  held  in  prise, 
And  sought  hem  out  on  every  side 
That  toward  him  they  shulde  abide. 
Among  the  whiche  thre  there  were, 
That  most  service  unto  him  bere 
As    they    which    in   his    chambre 

lighen 

And  all  hiscounceil  herd  and  sighen. 
Her  names  ben  of  straungd  note, 
Harpaghes  was  the  firste"  hote, 
And  Manachaz  was  the  secoundc, 
Zorobabel,  as  it  is  founde 
In  the  cronfque,  was  the  thridde. 

This  soldan  what  so  him  betidde 
To  hem  he  triste*  most  of  alle, 
Wherof  the  case  is  so  befalle  : 
This  lord,  which  hath  conceiptds 

depe, 

Upon  a  night  whan  he  hath  slepe, 
As  he  which  hath  his  wit  disposed, 
Touchend  a  point  hem  hath  opposed. 
The  kingds  question  was  this, 
Of  thinge's  thre  which  strongest  is, 


362 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  Wine,  theWoman  or  the  King? 
And  that    they  shulde  upon    this 

thing 

Of  her  answere  avised  be, 
He  yaf  hem  fully  daies  thre 
And  hath  behote  hem  by  his  feith 
That  who  the  beste  reson  saith 
He  shall  receive  a  worthy  mede. 

"Upon  this  thing  they  token  hede 
And  stoden  in  disptttesdn, 
That  by  divers  opinidn 
Of  arguments  that  they  have  holde 
Harpaghes  first  his  tale  tolde 
And  said,  how  that  the  strength  of 

kinges 

Is  mightiest  of  alle  thinges. 
For  King  hath  power  over  man, 
And  man  is  he  which  reson  can, 
As  he  which  is  of  his  nature 
The  moste  noble  creature 
Of  alle  tho  that  God  hath  wrought. 
And  by  that  skill  it  semeth  nought, 
He  saith,  that  any  erthly  thing 
May  be  so  mighty  as  a  King. 
A  King  may  spille,  a  King  may 

save, 

A  King  may  make  of  lorde  a  knave 
And  of  a  knave  a  lord  also, 
The  power  of  a  King  stant  so, 
That  he  the  lawes  overpasseth. 
What  he  woll  make  lasse  he  lasseth. 
What  he  woll  make  more  he  moreth. 
And  as  a  gentil  faucon  soreth. 
H  e  fleeth  that  no  man  him  reclameth, 
But  he  alone  all  other  tameth 
And  stant  him  self  of  lawe  fre. 
Lo,  thus  a  Kinges  might,  saith  he, 
So  as  his  reson  can  argue, 
Is  strengest  and  of  most  value. 

"But  Manachaz  saith  otherwise, 
That  Wine  is  of  the  more  emprise, 
And  that  he  sheweth  by  this  way. 
The  Wine  full  ofte*  taketh  away 
The  reson  fro  the  mannes  herte, 
The  Wine  can  make  a  creple  sterte 


And  a  deliver l  man  unweldc. 
It  maketh  a  blind  man  to  behelde 
And  a  bright  eyed  semd  derke, 
It  maketh  a  lewde  man  a  clerke, 
And  fro  the  clerkes  the  clergy 
It  taketh  awey,  and  cowardy 
It  torneth  into  hardiesse, 
Of  avarice  it  maketh  largesse. 
The  Wine  maketh  eke  the  good 

blood, 

In  which  the  soule,  which  is  good, 
Hath  chosen  her  a  resting  place 
While  that  the  life  herwoll  embrace. 
And  by  this  skille  Manachaz, 
Answered  hath  upon  this  cas 
And  saith,  that  Wine  by  wey  of 

kind 

Is  thing. which  may  the  hertes  bind 
Well  more  than  the  Regalie. 
"  Zorobabel  for  his  partie 
Said  as  him  thoughte  for  the  best, 
That  Women  ben  the  mightiest. 
The  Kinge  and  the  Vinour  also 
Of  Women  comen  bothe  two. 
And  eke  he  said,  how  that  manhede 
Through  strengthe  unto  the  woman- 

hede 

Of  love,  where  he  woll  or  none, 
Obeie  shall,  and  therupon 
To  shewe  of  Women  the  maistrie 
A  tale  whiche  he  sigh  with  eye 
As  for  ensample  he  tolde  this. 
"  How  Apemen,  of  Besazis 
Which  doughter  was,  in  the  paleis 
Sittend  upon  his  highe  deis, 
Whan  he  Avas  hottest  in  his  ire 
Toward  the  great  of  his  empire, 
Cyrus  the  King  tiraunt  she  toke. 
And  only  with  her  goodly  loke 
She  made  him  debonaire  and  meke, 
And  by  the  chin  and  by  the  cheke 
She  luggeth  him  right  as  her  list, 
That  now  she  japeth  and  now  she 

kist 

1  Deliver,  free  of  movement,  lithe. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      363 


And  doth  with  him  what  ever  her 

liketh. 
Whan    that    she   loureth  than   he 

siketh, 

And  whan  she  gladeth  he  is  glad. 
And  thus  this  King  was  overlad 
With  hire  which  his  lemman  was. 

"  Among  the  men  is  no  solas 
If  that  there  be  no  Woman  there, 
For  but  if  that  the  Woman  were 
This  worldes  joie  were  awey. 
Through  hem  men  finden  out  the 

wey 

To  knighthode  and  toworlde's  fame, 
They  make  a  man  to  drede  shame 
And  honour  for  to  be  desired. 
Through  the  beaute  of  hem  is  fired 
The  dart  of  which  Cupi'de'  throweth, 
Wherof  the  jolif  peine  groweth 
Which  al  the  worlde  hath  under  fote. 
A  Woman  is  the  mannes  bote, 
His  life,  his  deth,  his  wo,  his  wele. 
And  this  thing  may  be  shewed  wele, 
How  that  Women  ben  good  and 

kinde, 
For  in  ensample  thus  I  finde. 

"WhanthatthedukeAdmetuslay 
Sike  in  his  bed,  that  every  day 
Men  waiten  whan  he  shulde  dey, 
Alcest  his  wife  goth  for  to  prey 
With  sacrifice  unto  Minerve, 
As  she  which  woldd  thank  deserve, 
To  wite  answe"re  of  the  goddesse, 
How  that  her  lorde  of  his  sikenesse, 
Wherof  he  was  so  wo  beseine, 
Recover  might  his  hele  ayeine. 
Lo,   thus  she  cride  and  thus   she 

praide, 

Till  atte  last  a  vois  her  saide, 
That  if  she  wolde*  for  his  sake 
The  maladi'e  suffre  and  take 
And  deie  her  self,  he  shulde  live. 
Of  this  answere  Alcest  hath  yive 
Unto  Minerve"  great  thonkfng, 
So  that  her  dethe  and  his  living 


She  chese  with  all  her  hole  entent, 
And  thus  accorded  home  she  went. 
Into  the  chambrc  whan  she  came, 
Her  house'bonde  anonc  she  name 
In  bothe  her  armes  and  him  kist, 
And  spake  unto  him  what  her  list. 
And  therupon  within  a  throwe 
The  goode*  wife  was  overthrowc 
And  deied,   and  he  was   hole   in 

haste. 

So  may  a  man  by  reson  taste, 
How  next  after  the  (iod  above 
The  trouth  of  Women  and  the  love, 
In  whom  that  alle*  grace  is  founde, 
Is  mightiest  upon  this  grounde 
And  most  behovely  manyfolde. 

"  Lo,  thus  Zorobabel  hath  tolde 
The  tale  of  his  opinion. 
But  for  findll  conclusion, 
What  strengest  is  of  erthly  thinges 
The    Wine,    the    Women    or    the 

Kinges,  [allc 

He  saith,  that  Trouthe  above  hem 
Is  mightiest,  how  ever  it  falle. 
The  Trouthe  how  so  it  ever  come 
May  for  no  thfng  ben  overcome. 
It  may  well  suffre  for  a  throwe, 
But  atte  last  it  shall  be  knowe. 
The  proverbe  is,  who  that  is  trewe, 
Him  shall  his  \vhile1  never  rewe. 
For  how  so  that  the  cause  wende 
The  trouthe  is  shameles  atte  endc. 
But  what  thing  thnt  is  trouthe*le*s 
It  may  nought  well  be  shamdlds, 
And  shame  hindereth  every  wight. 
So  proveth  it,  there  is  no  might 
Withoute  Trouthe  in  no  degre. 
And  thus  for  trouthe  of  his  decre 
Zorobabel  was  most  commended, 
Wherof  the  question  was  ended 
And  he  received  hath  his  mede 
For  Trouthd,  which  to  mannes  nedc 
Is  most  behovelich  over  all. 
Forthy  was  Trouthe  in  speciaMl 

1  Whilt,  time. 


364 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


The  firste  point  in  observaunce 
Betake  unto  the  governaimce 
Of  Alisaundre,  as  it  is  saide  ; 
For  therupon  the  ground  is  laide 
Of  every  Kinges  regiment, 
As  thing  which  most  convenient 
Is  for  to  set  a  king  in  even 
Bothe  in  this  worlde  and  eke  in 

heven. 
"  !$lext  after  Ircwfljd  the  se- 

counde 

In  Policie  as  it  is  founde, 
Which  serveth  to  the  worldes  fame 
In  worship  of  a  Kinges  name, 
Largesse  it  is,  whose  privilege 
There  may  non  avarice  abrege. 
The  worldes  good  was  first  comiine, 
But  afterward  upon  Fortune 
Was  thilke*  comun  profit  cessed. 
For  whan   the    people   stood   en- 

cressed 

And  the  ligndges  woxen  great, 
Anone  for  singular  beyete 
Drough  every  man  to  his  partie, 
Wherof  come  in  the  first  envie 
With    great    debate    and    werres 

stronge, 

And  last  among  the  men  so  longe 
Till  no  man  wiste  who  was  who 
Ne  which  was   frende    ne  which 

was  fo. 

Till  atte  laste  in  every  londe 
Within  hem  self  the  people  fonde, 
That  it  was  good  to  make  a  King 
Which  might  appesen  all  this  thing 
And  yive  right  to  the  lignages 
In  parting  of  her  heritages 
And  eke  of  all  her  other  good. 
And  thus  above  hem  alle  stood 
The  King  upon  his  regaly, 
As  he  which  hath  to  justify 
The  worldes  good  fro  covetise. 
So  sit  it  well  in  alle  wise 
A  King  betwene  the  more  and  lesse 
To  sette  his  herte  upon  Largesse 


Toward  him  self  and  eke  also 
Towarde  his  people.    And  if  nought 

so, 

That  is  to  sain,  if  that  he  be 
Toward  him  selfe  large  and  fre 
And  of  his  people  take  and  pille, 
Largesse  by  no  wey  of  skille 
It  may  be  said,  but  Avarice, 
Which  in  a  Kinge  is  a  great  Vice. 

"  A  King  behoveth  eke  to  fle 
The  Vice  of  Prodegalite, 
That  he  mesure  in  his  expence 
So  kepe  that  of  indigence 
He  may  be  sauf.      For  who  that 

nedeth, 

In  all  his  werk  the  wors  he  spedeth. 
As  Aristotle  upon  Chaldee 
Ensample  of  great  auctorite 
Unto  king  Alisaundre  taught 
Of  thilke  folk  that  were  unsaught l 
Toward  her  King  for  his  pillage. 
Wherof  he  bad  in  his  corage 
That  he  unto  thre  points  entende 
Where  that  he  wolde  his  good  de- 
spende. 

"  First  shulde  he  loke  how  that 

it  stood 

That  all  were  of  his  owne  good 
The  yiftes  which  he  wolde'  yive, 
So  might  he  wel  the  better  live. 

"  And  eke  he  must  taken  hede 
If  there  be  cause  of  any  nede 
Which  oughte  for  to  be  defended, 
Er  that  his  goodes  ben  despended. 

"  He  mote  eke  as  it  is  befalle 
Amonges  other  thinges  alle 
Se  the  desertes  of  his  men, 
And  after  that  they  ben  of  ken 
And  of  estate  and  of  merite 
He  shall  hem  largelich  aquite, 
Or  for  the  werre,  or  for  the  pees, 
That  none  honour  fall  in  decrees 
Which  mighte  torne  into  dififame, 

1  Unsaught,  out  of  nccord  (First  English, 
saht,  peace,  reconcilement). 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      365 


But  that  he  kepe  his  gode  name, 
So  that  he  be  nought  holde  unkinde. 
For  in  cronfque  a  tale  I  finde, 
Which    speketh    somdele   of    this 

matere, 
Herhfterward  as  thou  shalte  here. 

"gn  3*om<?  to  pursue  his  right 
There  was  a  worthy  pouer  knight 
Which  came  alone  for  to  sain 
His  cause,  when  the  court  was  plein 
Where  Julius  was  in  presence. 
And  for  him  lacketh  of  despense 
There  was  with  him  none  advocate 
To  make  plee  for  his  estate. 
But  though  him  lacke  for  to  plede 
Him  lacketh  nothing  of  manhede. 
He  wiste  well  his  purse  was  pouer, 
But  yet  he  thought  his  right  recouer, 
And  openly  pouerte  aleide 
To  themperour,  and  thus  he  saide : 

'  O  Julius,  lord  of  the  lawe, 
Behold,  my  counseil  is  withdrawe 
For  lacke  of  gold  to  thine  office 
After  the  lawes  of  justice. 
Help,  that  I  hadde  counseil  here 
Upon  the  trouthe  of  my  matere.' 

And  Julius  with  that  anone 
Assigndd  him  a  worthy  one. 
But  he  him  self  no  word  ne  spake. 
This  knight  was  wroth  and  found  a 

lake1 
In  themperour,  and  saide  thus  : 

'  O  thou  unkinde  Julius, 
Whan  thou  in  thy  bataile  were 
Up  in  Aufrique,  and  I  was  there, 
My  might  for  thy  rescousse  I  did 
And  putte  no  man  in  my  stede. 
Thou  wost  what  wounde's  there  I  had, 
But  here  I  finde  the  so  bad, 
That  the  ne  list  to  speke  o  worde 
Thine  owne  mouth,  norof  thin  horde 
To  yive  a  florein  me  to  helpe. 
How  shulde  I  thanne  me  beyelpe  - 
Fro  this  day  forth  of  thy  largesse, 

1  Lake,  lack.  -  Bcyelfe,  txxut. 


Whan  such  a  great  unkinde'nesse 
Is  found  in  suche  a  lorde  ns  thou  ?' 
This  Julius  knew  well  inough 
That  all  was  soth  which  hehimtolde. 
And  for  he  wold<5  nought  ben  holde 
Unkind,  he  toke  his  cause  on  honde, 
And  as  it  were  of  Goddds  sonde. 
He  yaf  him  good  inough  to  spende 
For  ever  unto  his  livds  ende. 

"  And  thus  shuld  every  worthy 

king 

Take  of  his  knightes  knouleching 
Whan  that  he  sigh  they  hadden  nede, 
For  every  service  axeth  mede. 
But  other,  which  have  nought  de 
served 

Through  vcrtue  but  of  japes  served, 
A  King  shall  nought  deserve  grace, 
Though  he  be  large  in  suche  a  place. 
"  It  sit  well  every  king  to  have 
Discretidn  whan  men  him  crave, 
So  that  he  may  his  yiftd  wite  ; 
Wherof  I  finde  a  tale  write, 
How  Cinichus  a  pouere*  knight 
A  sommd  which  was  over  might, 
Praied  of  his  king  Antigonus. 
The  kinge  answerde  to  him  thus 
And  said,  how  such  a  yifte  passeth 
His   pouer  estate.     And  than  he 

lasseth 

And  axeth  but  a  litel  peny, 
If  that  the  king  wold  yive  him  any. 
"  The  king  answerd,  it  was  to 

small 

For  him  which  was  a  lord  reall, 
To  yive  a  man  so  litel  thinge, 
It  were  unworship  in  a  kinge. 
"  By  this  ensample  a  King  may 

lere, 

That  for  to  yive  is  in  manere, 
For  if  a  King  his  tresor  lasseth 
Without    honour    and    thankeles 

passeth, 

Whan  he  him  self  woll  so  beguile 
I  not  who  shall  compleigne  his  while 


366 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Ne  who  by  right  him  shall  releve. 
.But  nethcles  this  I  beleve 
To  helpe  with  his  owne  londe 
Belongeth  evrery  man  his  honde 
To  set  upon  necessite. 

"And  eke  his  Kinges  realte 
Mote  every  lege  man  comforte 
With  good  and  body  to  supporte, 
Whan  they  se  cause  resonable. 
For  who  that  is  nought  entendable 
To  holde  upright  his  Kinges  name, 
Him  oughte  for  to  be  to  blame. 

"  Of  Policie  and  over  more 
To  speke  in  this  matere  more 
So  as  the  philosophre  tolde, 
A  King  after  the  reule  is  holde 
To  modifie  and  to  adresse 
His  yiftes  upon  such  largesse 
That  he  mesiire  nought  excede. 

"  For  if  a  King  fall  into  nede, 
It  causeth  ofte'  sondry  thinges, 
Whiche  are  ungoodly  to  the  kinges. 
What   man  will   nought  him   self 

mesure, 

Men  seen  ful  ofte  that  mesure 
Him  hath  forsake.     And  so  doth  he 
That  useth  prodegalite, 
Which  is  the  moder  of  pouerte, 
Wherof  the  londes  ben  deserte. 
And  namely  whan  thilke  vice 
About  a  King  stant  in  office 
And  hath  witholde  of  his  party 
The  covetous^  flatery 
Which   many  a  worthy  King   de- 

ceiveth, 

Er  he  the  fallace  apperceiveth 
Of  hem  that  serven  to  the  glose. 
For    they  that  connen  plese   and 

glose 

Ben,  as  men  tellen,  the  nonces 
Unto  the  fostring  of  the  Vices, 
Wherof  full  ofte  netheles 
A  King  is  blamed  gilteles. 

A  Philosophre,  as  thou  shalt  here, 
Spake  to  a  King  of  this  matere 


And  said  him  well  how  that  flatrours 
Coupable  were  of  thre  errours. 
One  was  toward  the  goddes  high, 
That  weren  wroth  of  that  they  sigh, 
The  mischefe  which  befalle  sholde 
Of  that  the  false  flatrour  tolde 
Toward  the  King.      Another  was, 
Whan  they  by  sleight  and  by  fallas 
Of  feigned  wordes  make  him  wcne 
That  black  is  whiteandblewis  grene 
Touchend  of  his  condicion. 
For  whan  he  doth  extorcion 
With  many  an  other  Vied  mo, 
Men  shall  nought  finden  one  of  tho 
To  grucche  or  speke  there  ayein, 
But  holden  up  his  oile  x  and  sain, 
That  all  is  well  what  ever  he  doth. 
And  thus  of  fals  they  maken  soth, 
So  that  her  Kinges  eye  is  blent 
And  wot  nought  how  the  worklc  is 

went. 

The  thridde  erroiir  is  harm  com 
mune, 

With  which  the  people  mot  com 
mune 

Of  wronge's  that  they  bringen  inne. 
And  thus  they  werchen  treble  sinne 
That  ben  flatrours  about  a  king. 
There  mighte  be  no  worse  thing 
About  a  kinges  regaly, 
Than  is  the  Vice  of  Flatery. 
And  netheles  it  hath  ben  used 
That  it  was  never  yet  refused, 
As  for  to  speke,  in  Court  Reall. 
For  there  it  is  most  speciall 
And  may  nought  longe  be  forbore. 
But  whan  this  Vice  of  hem  is  bore 
That    sholden    the    Veitues    forth 

bringe. 

And  Trouthe  is  torned  to  Lesinge, 
It  is,  as  who  saith,  ayein  kinde, 
Wherof  an  old  ensample  I  finde. 

"  Among  these  other  tales  wise 
Of  philosophres  in  this  wise 

1  His  oile,  his  affirmation. 


BOOK  VII.-1IOU'  A  KL\G  WAS  TAUGHT.      367 


3  VO&O,  how  whilom  two  there  were 
And  to  the  scole  for  to  lere 
Unto  Athene's  fro  Cartage 
Her  frendes  whan  they  were  of  age, 
Hem    sende.       And     there     they 

stoden  longe 

Till  they  such  lore  have  underfonge 
That  in  her  time  they  surmounte 
All  other  men,  that  to  accompte 
Of  hem  was  tho  the  grete  fame. 
The  first  of  hem  his  rightd  name 
Was  Diogenes  thunne  hote, 
In  whom  was  foundd  no  riote. 
His  felaw  Aristippus  hight, 
Which  mochel  couthe  and  mochel 

might. 

But  atte  laste  soth  to  sain 
They  bothe  tornen  home  ayein 
Unto  Cartdge  and  scole  lete. 
This  Diogenes  no  beyete 
Of  worldds  good  or  lasse  or  more 
Ne  sough  to'  for  his  longe  lore, 
But  toke  him  only  for  to  dwelle 
At  home.     And  as  the  boke's  telle, 
His  house  was  nigh  to  a  rive're 
Beside  a  brigge,  as  thou  shalt  here. 
There  dwelleth  he  and  taketh  his 

rest, 

So  as  it  thought  him  for  the  best, 
To  studie  in  his  philosophic, 
As  he  which  wolde  so  defie 
The  worldds  pompe  on  every  side. 

"  But  Aristippe  his  boke  aside 
Hath  laid,  and  to  the  court  he  wente, 
Where  many  a  wile  and  many  a 

wente l 

With  flatery  and  wordds  softe 
He  caste  and  hath  compasse'd  ofte 
How  he  his  prince  mighte  plese. 
And  in  this  wise  he  #ate  him  ese 
Of  veine  honour  and  worldes  good, 
The  londes  reule  upon  him  stood. 
The  king  of  him  was  wonder  glad, 
And  all  was  do  what  thinge  he  bad, 

l  Wente,  turn. 


I  Bothe  in  the  courte  and  eke  without 
With  flatery  he  brought  about 
1 1  is  purpos  of  the  worlde's  werke, 
Which  was  ayein  the  state  of  clerke. 
So  that  philosophy  he  lefte 
And  to  riche'sse  him  self  upleftc. 
Lo,  thus  had  Aristippe  his  will. 
But  Diogenes  dwelte  still 
At  home  and  loked  on  his  boke. 
H  e  sough te  nought  the  worldes  croke 
For  veine  honour  ne  for  richesse, 
But  all  his  hertes  besinesse 
He  sette  to  be  vertuous. 
And  thus  within  his  owne  hous 
He  liveth  to  the  suffisaiince 
Of  his  having.  And  fell  perchaunce, 
This  Diogene  upon  a  day, 
And  that  was  in  the  month  of  May, 
Whan  that  these  herbes  ben  hoi- 
some, 

He  walketh  for  to  gader  some 
In  his  gardin,  of  which  his  joutes  l 
He  thoughte  have,  and  thus  aboutes 
Whan  he  hath  gadred  what  him 

liketh, 

Hesethimthannedowneandpiketh 
And  wisshe  his  herbes  in  the  flood 
Upon  the  which  his  gardin  stood 
Nigh  to  the  brigge,  as  I  tolde  ere. 
And  hapneth  while  he  sitteth  there, 
Cam  Aristippus  by  the  strete 
With  many  hors  and  routes  grete 
And  straught  unto  the  brigge  he 

rode 

Where  that  he  hoved  and  abode, 
For  as  he  cast  his  eye  nigh 
His  felaw  Diogene  he  sigh, 
And  what  he  dede  he  sigh  also, 
Wherof  he  saide  to  him  so  : 

'  O  Diogene,  God  the  spede. 
It  were  certes  litel  necle 
To  sitten  here  and  wortes  pike 
If  thou  thy  prince  couthest  like  - 

1  Joutes  or  jotcs,  beets ;  also  legumes  used 
in  old  cookery. 
•  Like,  plcu.it. 


;68 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


So  as  I  can  in  my  degre.' 
'  O  Aristippe,'  ayein  quod  he, 
'  If  that  thou  couthest  so  as  I 
Thy  wortes  pike  tru^ly, 
It  were  als  litel  nede  or  lasse 
That  thou  so  worldly  wol  compasse 
With  flaterie  for  to  serve, 
Wherof  thou  thenkest  to  deserve 
Thy  princes  thank  and  to  purchdce 
How  thou  might  stondenin  his  grace 
For  getting  of  a  litel  good. 
If  thou  wolt  take  into  thy  mood 
Resdn,  thou  might  by  reson  deme, 
That  so  thy  prince  for  to  queme 1 
Is  nought  to  reson  accordaunt, 
But  it  is  greatly  descordaunt 
Unto  the  scoles  of  Athene.' 

"  Lo,  thus  answerde  Diogene 
Ayein  the  clerkes  flaterie. 
But  yet  men  sene  thessamplerie 
Of  Aristippe  is  well  received 
And  thilke  of  Diogene  is  weived. 
Office  in  court  and  gold  in  coffre 
Is  now,  men  sain,  the  philosdphre 
Which  hath  the  worship  inthehalle. 
But  flaterie  passeth  alle 
In  chambre  whom  the  court  avaun- 

ceth. 

For  upon  thilke  lot  it  chaunceth 
To  be  belove'd  now  a  day. 

"  I  not  if  it  be  ye  or  nay, 
How  Dante  the  poe'te  answerde 
To  a  flatrour,  the  tale  I  herde. 
Upon  a  strife  bet  wen  e  hem  two 
He  said  him,  there  ben  many  mo 
Of  thy  servauntes  than  of  min. 
For  the  poete  of  his  covine 
Hath  none  that  woll  him  cloth  and 

fede, 

But  a  flatrour  may  reule  and  lede 
A  king  with  all  his  londe  about. 
So  stant  the  wis£  man  in  doubt 
Of  hem  that  to  folie  drawe, 
For  such  is  now  the  comun  lawe. 

1  Queme,  please. 


But  as  the  comune  vois  it  telleth, 
Where  now  that  flaterie  dwelleth 
In  every  londe  under  the  sonne, 
There  is  full  many  a  thing  begonne 
Which  were  better  to  be  lefte ; 
That  hath  be  shewed  now  and  efte 
""put  if  a  prince  him  wolde 

reule 

Of  the  Remains  after  the  reule 
In  thilke  time  as  it  was  used, 
This  Vice  shulde  be  refused 
Wherof  the  princes  ben  assoted. 
But  where  the  pleine  trouth  is  noted, 
There  may  a  prince  wel  conceive 
That  he  shall  nought  him  self  de 
ceive 

Of  that  he  hereth  wordes  pleine, 
For  him   ther  nought l   by  reson 

pleigne 

That  warned  is  er  him  be  wo. 
And  that  was  fully  proved  tho, 
Whan  Rome  was  the  worldes  chefe, 
The  sothesaier  tho  was  lefe, 
Which  wolde  nought  the  trouthe 

spare 

But  with  his  wordes  plaine  and  bare 
To  themperour  his  sothes  tolde, 
As  in  cronique  it  is  witholde, 
Here  afterwarde  as  thou  shalt  here 
Accordend  unto  this  matere. 

"To  se  this  olde  ensemplarie, 
That  whilom  was  no  flaterie 
Toward  the  princes,  wel  I  finde, 
Wherof  so  as  it  comth  to  minde, 
My  sone,  a  tale  unto  thin  ere, 
While  that  the  worthy  princes  were 
At  Rome,  I  thenke  for  to  telle. 
For  whan  the  chaunces  so  befelle, 
That  any  emperour  as  tho 
Victorie  had  upon  his  fo 
And  so  forth  came  to  Rome  ayein, 
Of  treble  honour  he  was  certain, 
Wherof  that  he  was  magnified. 
"  The  first,  as  it  is  specified, 

,  ought  not. 


BOOK  VII. —HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      369 


Was,  whan  he  cam  at  thilke  tide, 
The  chare,  in  which  he  shulde  ride 
Four  white  stedds  sholde*  drawe  ; 
Of  Jupiter  by  thilkd  lawe 
The  cote  he  shuldd  were  also. 
His  prisoners  eke  sholden  go 
Endlong  the  chare  on  either  honcle, 
And  all  the  noble  of  the  londe 
To-fore  and  after  with  him  come 
Riddnd  and  broughten  him  to  Rome 
In  token  of  his  chivalrie, 
And  for  none  other  flaterie. 
And  that  was  shewdd  forth  withall 
Where  he  sat  in  his  chare  reall 
Beside  him  was  a  ribald  set 
Which  had  his  wordes  so  beset 
To  themperour  in  all  his  glorie 
He  saide  :  *  Take  into  memorie, 
For  all  this  pompe  and  all  this  pride 
Let  no  justice  gon  aside, 
But  know  thy  self,  what  so  befalle. 
For  men  seen  ofte  timd  falle 
Thing    which    men    wende     siker 

stonde. 

Though  thouvictorie  haveonhonde, 
Fortune  may  nought  stonde  alwey  ; 
The  whele  perchaunce  another  day 
May  torne  and  thou  might  over- 

throwe, 

There  lasteth  nothing  buta  throwe.' 
"  With  these  wordds  and  with  mo 
This  ribald,  which  sat  with  him  tho, 
To  themperour  his  tald  tolde. 
And  overmore  what  ever  he  wolde 
Or  were  it  evil  or  were  it  good 
So  plainly  as  the  trouthe  stood, 
H  e  spareth  nought  but  speketh  it  out. 
And  so  might  every  man  about, 
The  day  of  that  solempnite, 
His  tald  tellen  as  wele  as  he 
To  themperour  all  openly. 
And  all  was  this  the  cause"  why, 
That  while  he  stood  in  his  noblesse 
He  shulde  his  vanitd  represse 
With  suchd  wordes  as  he  herde. 


'•  Lo  now,  how  thilke  time  it  ferde 
Toward  so  high  a  worthy  lorde. 
For  this  I  finde  eke  of  recorde, 
Which  the cronique hath  auctorized. 
What  emperotir  was  entronized 
The  firste  day  of  his  corone, 
Where  he  was  in  his  real  throne 
And  helde  his  fest  in  the  paleis 
Sittend  upon  his  highc  deis, 
With  all  the  lust  that  may  be  gete 
Whan  he  was  gladest  at  his  mete, 
And  every  minstrell  haddd  pleide 
And  every  disour  haddd  saide 
What  most  was  plesant  to  his  ere, 
Than  atte  laste  comen  there 
His  masons  for  they  sholden  crave 
Where  that  he  woldd  be  begrave, 
And  of  what  stone  his  sepulture 
They    sholden    make,    and    what 

sculpture 

He  wolde  ordeignd  therupon. 
Tho  was  there  flaterie  none 
The  worthy  princes  to  bejape, 
The  thing  was  otherwise  shape 
With  good  counseile;  and  otherwise 
They  were  hem  selven  thannd  wise 
And  understoden  well  and  knewen ; 
Whan  suchd  softd  windes  blewen 
Of  flatery  into  her  ere 
They  setten  nought  her  hertds  there. 
But  whan  they  herde  wordes  feigned 
The    pleind    trouth    it    hath    des- 

deigned l 

Of  hem  that  weren  so  discrete. 
So  toke  the  flaterer  no  beyete 
Of  him  that  was  his  prince  tho. 
And  for  to  proven  it  is  so, 
A  tald,  which  befell  in  dede, 
In  a  cronique  of  Rome  I  rede. 

(Soscir  upon  his  reall  throne 
Where  that  he  sat  in  his  persone 
And  was  highest  in  all  his  pris, 
A  man  which  wolde  make  him  wise 

1  Feigned  words  undervalued  the  plain  truth 
in  men  of  such  discernment. 

2  A 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Fell  down  knelend  in  his  presence 
And  did  him  such  a  reverence 
As  though  the  highe*  God  it  were. 
Men  hadden  great  merveile  there 
Of  the  worshipe  which  he  dede. 
This  man  aros  fro  thilke'  stede 
And  forth  withall  the  same  tide 
He  goth  him  up  and  by  his  side 
He  set  him  down  as  pere  and  pere 
And  saide,  'If  thou  that  sittest  here 
Art  God  which  alld  thinges  might, 
Than  have  I  do  worship  aright 
As  to  the  God ;  and  other  wise, 
If  thou  be  nought  of  thilke  assise, 
But  art  a  man  suche  as  am  I, 
Than  may  I  sit  the  faste  by, 
For  we  be  bothe  of  one  kinde.' 
"  Cesar  answerde  and  saide :  'O 

blinde, 

Thou  art  a  fol,  it  is  well  sene 
Upon  thy  self.     For  if  thou  wene 
I  be  a  God,  thou  dost  amis 
To  sit  where  thou  seest  God  is. 
And  if  I  be  a  man  also, 
Thou  hast  a  great  folie  do, 
Whan  thou  to  such  one  as  shall  deie 
The  worship  of  thy  God  awey 
Hast  yiven  so  unworthily. 
Thus  may  I  prove  redely, 
Thou  art  nought  wise.'     And  they 

that  herde, 

How  wisely  that  the  king  answerde, 
It  was  to  hem  a  newe  lore, 
Wherof  they  dradden  him  the  more, 
And  broughten  nothing  to  his  ere 
But  if  it  trouthe  and  reson  were. 
So  ben  there  many  in  such  a  wise, 
That  feignen  wordes  to  be  wise 
And  all  is  verray  flater^ 
To  him  which  can  it  well  aspy. 
"  The  kindd  flatrour  can  nought 

love 

But  for  to  bring  him  -self  above, 
For  how  that  ever  his  maister  fare, 
So  that  him  self  stonde  out  of  care 


Him  reccheth  nought.      And  thus 

ful  ofte 

Deceived  ben  with  wordes  softe 
The  kinges  that  ben  innocent. 
Wherof  as  for  chastiement 
The  wise*  philosophre  saide  : 
<  What  king  that  so  his  tresure  laide 
Upon  such  folke,  he  hath  the  lesse 
And  yet  ne  doth  he  no  largesse 
But  harmeth  with  his  owne  honde 
Him  self  and  eke  his  owne  londe. 
And  that  by  many  a  sondry  wey, 
Wherof  if  that  a  man  shall  sey 
As  for  to  speke  in  generall 
Where  such  thing  falleth  over  all 
That  any  king  him  self  misreule. — 
The  philosdphre  upon  his  reule 
In  speciall  a  cause  set 
Whiche  is  and  ever  hath  be  the  let 
In  governance  about  a  king 
Upon  the  mischefe  of  the  thing, 
And  that,  he  saith,  is  Flatery, 
Wherof  to-fore  as  in  party, 
What  Vice  it  is,  I  have  declared. 
For  who  that  hath  his  wit  bewared  l 
Upon  a  flatrour  to  beleve, 
W7han  that  he  weneth  best  acheve 
His  gode  world,  it  is  most  fro. 
And  for  to  proven  it  is  so 
En  samples  there  ben  many  one, 
Of  whiche  if  thou  wolt  knowen  one, 
It  is  behovely  for  to  here 
What  whilom  fell  in  this  matere. 

Jimong  tfye  Ittn<j(/s  in  the  bible 
I  finde  a  tale  and  is  credible 
Of  him,  that  whilom  Achab  hight, 
Which  had  all  Israel  to  right. 
But  who  that  couthe  glose  softe 
And  flater,  such  he  set  alofte 
In  great  estate  and  made  hem  riche. 
But  they  that  speken  wordes  liche 
To  trouthe  and  wolde  it  nought  for- 

bere 
For  hem  was  none  estate  to  bere, 

1  Beivared>  spent. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING   WAS  TAUGHT. 


- 1 


The  courte  of  suchc  toke  none  hede. 
Till  atte  last  upon  a  nede, 
That  Benedab  kinge  of  Surfc, 
Of  Israel  a  great  partfe, 
Which  Ramoth  Galaiid  was  hote, 
Hath  sesdd.     And  of  that  riote 
He  toke  counsefle  in  sondry  wise, 
But  nought  of  hem  that  weren  wise. 
And  netheles  upon  this  cas 
To  strengthen  him,  for  Josephas 
Which  thanne*  was  kinge  of  Judee 
He  sende*  for  to  come,  as  he 
Which  through  frendshfp  and  alli- 

aunce 

Was  next  to  him  of  aqueintaiince. 
For  Joram  sone  of  Josaphath 
Achabbes  doughter  wedded  hath, 
Which  highte'  faire*  Godelie. 
And  thus  cam  into  Samar^ 
King  Josaphat,  and  he  found  there 
The  king  Achdb.     And  when  they 

were 

To-gider  spekend  of  this  thing, 
This  Josaphat  saith  to  the  king, 
How  that  he  wolde  gladly  here 
Some  true  prophe't  in  this  matere, 
That  he  his  counseil  mighte*  yive 
To  what  point  it  shall  be  adrive. 
And  in  that  time*  so  befell 
There  was  such  one  in  Israel, 
Which  set  him  all  to  flatery, 
And  he  was  cleped  Sedechy, 
And  after  him  Achdb  hath  sent. 
And  he  at  his  commaundement 
To-fore  him  cam,  and  by  a  sleight 
He  hath  upon  his  heved  on  height 
Two  large'  homes  set  of  bras, 
As  he  whiche  all  a  flatrour  was, 
And  goth  rampe'nd  as  a  Ie6n 
And  cast  his  homes  up  and  down 
And  bad  men  ben  of  good  espeire, 
For  as  the  homes  percen  thaire 
He  saith,  withouten  resistance, 
So  wist  he  well  of  his  science 
That  Benedab  is  discomffte. 


Whan  Sedechy  upon  this  plite 
Hath  told  this  tale  unto  his  lorde, 
Anone  they  were  of  his  accorde 
Prophete's  false*  many  mo 
To  bere  up  oile  1  and  alle*  tho 
Aflfermen  that  which  he  hath  toldc ; 
Wherof  the  king  Achdb  was  bolde 
And  yaf  hem  yiftes  all  aboute. 
But  Josaphat  was  in  great  double 
And  held  fantosme  all  thatheherde, 
Praiend  Achab  how  so  it  ferde, 
If  there  were  any  other  man. 
The  which  of  prophecfe  can, 
To  here  him  speke  erthattheygone. 
Quod  Achab  thanne':  'There  is  one, 
A  brothel,  which  Micheas  hight. 
But  he  ne  comth  nought  in  my  sight 
For  he  hath  long  in  prison  laien, 
Him  liked  never  yet  to  saien 
A  goodly  word  to  my  plesaunce. 
And  nethe'les  at  thine  instaunce 
He  shall  come  out,  and  than  he  may 
Say  as  he  saide  many  a  day  ; 
For  yet  he  saide  never  wele.' 
Tho  Josaphat  began  some  dele 
To  gladen  him  in  hope  of  trouthc. 
And  bad  withouten  any  slouthe 
That  men  him  shulde  fette '-  anone. 
And  they  that  weren  for  him  gone 
Whan  that  they  comen  where  he  was 
They  tolden  unto  Micheds 
The  manere  how  that  Sedechy 
Declared  hath  his  prophecy. 
And  therupon  they  pray  him  faire 
That  he  woll  saie*  no  contraire 
Wherof  the  king  may  be  desplesed, 
For  so  shall  every  man  be  esed, 
And  he  may  helpe  him  self  also. 
Micheas  upon  trouthe  tho 
His  herte*  set  and  to  hem  saith — 
All  that  belonge*  to  his  feith 

1  To  bere  up  oile,  to  sustain  the  affirmation 
(of  Zedekiah).  Oil  or  tile  is  an  old  form  <.t" 
oni,  yes.  "  O//t  par  ma  foi,  sire,  oil  tnult 
rolontiers"  says  each  of  tn«  false  prophets  to 
Ahab.  See  note,  p.  366. 

•-J  Fette,  fetch.      • 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  of  none  other  feigned  thing 
That  woll  he  tell  unto  the  king, 
Als  fer  as  God  hath  yive  him  grace. 
Thus  came  this  prophete  into  place, 
Where  he  the  kinges  wille  herde. 
And  he  therto  anone  answerde 
And  saide  unto  him  in  this  wise  : 
*  My  lege  lord,  for  my  service, 
Which  trewe  hath  stonden  ever  yit, 
Thou  hast  me  with  prison  aquite. 
But  for  all  that  I  shall  nought  glose 
Of  trouthe  als  far  as  I  suppose  ; 
And  as  touchend  of  thy  bataile 
Thou  Shalt  nought  of  the  sothe  faile. 
For  if  it  like*  the  to  here, 
As  I  am  taught  in  that  matere, 
Thou  might  it  understonde  sone. 
But  what  is  afterward  to  done 
Avise  the,  for  this  I  sigh, 
I  was  to-fore  the  throne  on  high, 
Where  all  the  world  me  thoughtd 

stode, 

And  there  I  herde  and  understode 
The  vois  of  God  with  wordes  clere 
Axend  and  saide  in  this  manere  : 

*  In  what  thing  may  I  best  beguile 
The  king  Achab?'    And  for  a  while 
Upon  this  point  they  speken  fast. 
Tho  said  a  spirit  atte  last : 

*  I  undertake  this  emprise.7 

And  God  him  axeth  in  what  wise. 

*  I  shall/  quod  he,  '  deceive  and  lie 
With  flaterende"  prophecie 

In  suche  mouthes  as  he  leveth.' 
And  he  which  alle"  thing  acheveth, 
Bad  him  go  forth  and  do  right  so. 
And  over  this  I  sigh  also 
The  noble  people  of  Israel 
Dispers  as  shepe  upon  an  hill 
Without  a  keper  unarraied. 
And  as  they  wente  about  astraied, 
I  herde  a  vois  unto  hem  sain : 

*  Goth  home  into  your  hous  ayein, 
Till  I  for  you  have  better  ordeigned.7 
Quod  Sedechie :  'TJiou  hast  feigned 


This  tale  in  angring  of  the  king.' 
And  in  a  wrathe  upon  this  thing 
He  smote  Micheen  upon  the  cheke ; 
The  king  him  hath  rebukdd  eke ; 
And  every  man  upon  him  cride. 
Thus  was  he  shent  on  every  side 
Ayein  and  into  prison  ladde, 
For  so  the  kinge  him  selve*  badde. 
The  trouthe'    mighte    nought   ben 

herde ; 

But  afterward  as  it  hath  ferde, 
The  dede  proveth  his  entent. 
Ach/ib  to  the  bataild  went, 
Where  Benedab  for  all  his  shelde 
Him  slough,  so  that  upon  the  felde 
His  people  goth  about  astray. 
But  God,  which  alle"  thinges  may, 
So  doth  that  they  no  mischefe  have. 
Her  king  was  dede  and  they  ben 

save, 

And  home  ayein  in  Goddes  pees 
They  wente,  and  all  was  founde  les1 
That  Sedechy  hath  said  to-fore. 
So  sit  it  wel  a  king  therfore 
To  loven  hem  that  trouthe'  mene. 
For  attd  last  it  will  be  sene, 
That  flatery  is  nothing  worth. 

"  But  now  to  my  materd  forth 
As  for  to  speken  overmore 
After  the  philosdphres  lore, 
The  thridde  point  of  policy 
I  thenke  for  to  specify. 

"'g^cit  is  a  lonb,  where  men 

be  none  ? 

What  ben  the  men  which  are  allone 
Without  a  kinges  governaunce? 
What  is  a  king  in  his  legeaunce 
Where  that  there  is  no  la  we  in  londe  ? 
What  is  to  take  lawe  on  honde, 
But  if  the  juges  weren  trewe? 
These  olde  worldes  with  the  newe 
Who  that  woll  take  in  evidence 
There  may  he  se  thexperience 
What  thing  it  is  to  kepe  lawe 

1  Les,  leasing*,  untruth. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      373 


Through    which    the    wrongds   be 

withdrawe 

And     rightwisnesse     btant     com 
mended, 

Wherof  the  regne's  ben  amended. 
For  where  the  lawe  may  comiine, 
The  lordcs  forth  with  the  comiine 
Eche  hath  his  propre  duetd. 
And  eke  the  kinges  reiilte 
Of  bothe  his  worship  underfongeth, 
To  his  estate  as  it  belongeth, 
Whiche  of  his  highe  worthinesse 
Hath  to  governd  rightwisnesse, 
As  he  which  shall  the  lawe  guide. 
And  netheles  upon  some  side 
His  power  stant  above  the  lawe 
To  yive  both  and  to  withdrawe 
The  forfet  of  a  mannes  life. 
But  t hinges  which  are  excessife 
Ayein  the  lawe  he  shal  nought  do 
For  love  ne  for  hate  also. 

"  The  mightcs  of  a  king  be  gret. 
But  yet  a  worthy  king  shall  let 
Of  wrong  to  done  all  that  he  might, 
For  he  which  shall  the  people  right, 
It  sit  wel  to  his  regal  y 
That  he  him  self  first  justify 
Tovvardes  God  in  his  degrd. 
For  his  estate  is  elles  fre 
Toward  all  other  in  his  persone, 
Sauf  only  to  the  God  alone 
Which  woll  him  self  a  king  chastise 
Where  that  none  other  may  suffise. 

"  So  were  it  good  to  taken  hede 
That  first  a  king  his  owne  dede 
Betwene  the  Vertue  and  the  Vice 
Redresse,  and  than  of  his  justice 
So  set  in  even  the  balaiince 
Towardds  other  in  governaunce, 
That  to  the  pouer  and  to  the  riche 
His  lawds  mighten  stonden  liche, 
He  shall  excepte  no  persone. 
But  for  he  may  nought  all  him  one 
In  sondry  places  do  justice, 
He  shall  of  his  reiil  office 


With  wise  consideration 

Ordeigne  his  deputation 

Of  suche  juges  as  ben  lerned, 

So  that  his  people  be  governed 

By  hem  that  trud  ben  and  wise. 

For  if  the  lawe  of  covetise 

Be  set  upon  a  juges  honde, 

Wo  is  the  people  of  thilke  londe. 

For  wrong  may  nought  him  selvon 

hide. 

But  elles,  on  that  other  side, 
If  lawe  stonde  with  the  right 
The  people  is  glad  and  stant  upright, 
Where  as  the  lawe  is  resonlble. 
The  comun  people  stant  mevable, 
And  if  the  lawe  torne  amis, 
The  people  also  mistorned  is. 

"  And  in  ensample  of  this  matere 
Of  Maximin  a  man  may  here, 
Of  Rome  which  was  emperoiir, 
That  whan  he  made  a  governour 
By  wey  of  substitucidn 
Of  province  or  of  region, 
He  woldd  first  enquire  his  name 
And  lete  it  openly  proclame 
What  man  he  were,  or  evil  or  good. 
And  upon  that  his  name  stood 
Enclined  to  vertue  or  to  vice, 
So  wolde  he  set  him  in  office, 
Or  elles  put  him  all  awey. 
Thus  held  the  lawe  his  righte  wey, 
Which  found  no  let  of  covetise. 
The  world  stood  than  upon  the  wise, 
As  by  ensample  thou  might  rede 
And  holde  it  in  thy  minde  I  rede. 

gn  a  croniquc  I  finde  thus, 
How  that  Gaiiis  Fabricius, 
Which  whilom  was  consul  of  Rome 
By  whom  the  lawes  yede  and  come, 
Whan  the  Sampnites  to  him  brought 
A  somme  of  gold  and  him  besought 
To  don  hem  favour  in  the  lawe, 
Toward  the  gold  he  gan  him  drawe 
Wherof  in  alld  mennes  loke 
A  part  up  in  his  honde  he  toke, 


374 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Which  to  his  mouth  in  alle  haste 
He  put  it  for  to  smelle  and  taste 
And  to  his  eye  and  to  his  ere, 
But  he  ne  found  no  comfort  there. 
And  than  he  gan  it  to  despise 
And  tolde  unto  hem  in  this  wise  : 
'  I    not   what    is  with    gold    to 

thrive, 

Whan  none  of  all  my  vvittes  five 
Find  favour  ne  delite  therinne. 
So  is  it  but  a  nice  sinne 
Of  gold  to  ben  to  covetous. 
But  he  is  riche  and  glorious 
Which  hath  in  his  subjection 
Tho  men  which  in  possession 
Ben  riche  of  gold,  and  by  this  skill, 
For  he  may  all  day  whan  he  will 
Or  be  hem  lefe  or  be  hem  lothe 
Justice  done  upon  hem  bothe.' 
"  Lo,  thus  he  said.      And  with 

that  worde 

He  threw  to-fore  hem  on  the  borde 
The  gold  out  of  his  honde  anone, 
And  said  hem,  that  he  wolde  none. 
So  that  he  kept  his  liberte 
To  do  justice  and  equite, 
Withoute  lucre  of  such  richesse. 
There  ben  now  fe we  of  suchel  gesse. 
For  it  was  thilke  times  used, 
That  every  juge  was  refused 
Which  was  nought  frend  to  comun 

right, 

But  they  that  wolden  stonde  upright 
For  trouthe  only  to  do  justice 
Preferred  were  in  thilke  office 
To  deme  and  juge  comun  lawe, 
Which  now  men  sain  is  all  with- 

drawe. 
"To  sette  a  lawe  and  kepe  it 

nought 

There  is  no  comune  profit  sought. 
But  above  alle  netheles 
The  lawe  which  is  made  for  pees 
Is  good  to  kepd  for  the  best, 
For  that  set  alle  men  in  rest. 


The  rightful  emperoiir  Conrade 
To  kepe  pees  such  lawe  made 
That  none  withinne  the  cite 
In  destorbaiince  of  unite 
Durst  ones  meven  a  matere. 
For  in  his  time  as  thou  might  here, 
What  point  that  was  for  lawe  set 
It  shulde  for  no  good  be  let l 
To  what  persone  that  it  were. 
And  this  brought  in  the  comun  fere 
Why  every  man  the  lawe  dradde, 
For  there  was  none  which  favour 
hadde. 

§0  as  tl)coe  ol&cf  bokes  sain, 
I  finde  write,  how  a  Romain, 
Which  consul  was  of  the  pretoire, 
Whose  name  was  Carmidotoire, 
He  set  a  lawe  for  the  pees 
That  none,  but  he  be  wepenles, 
Shall  come  into  the  counseil  hous, 
And  elles  as  malicious 
He  shal  ben  of  the  lawe  dede. 
To  that  statute,  and  to  that  rede 
Accorden  alle,  it  shall  be  so, 
For  certein  cause  which  was  tho. 
Now  list,  what  fell  therafter  sone. 
This  consul  hadde  for  to  done 
And  was  into  the  feldes  ride. 
And  they  him  hadde  longe  abide, 
That  lordes  of  the  counseil  were, 
And  for  him  sende,  andhe  cam  there 
With  swerd  begert,and  hath  foryetc 
Till  he  was  in  the  counseil  sete. 
Was  none  of  hem  that  mad(5  speche 
Till  he  him  self  it  wolde  seche, 
Andfoundeoutthedefaulthim  selve. 
And  than  he  saide  unto  the  twelve 
Which  of  the  Senate  weren  wise  : 
'  I  have  deserved  the  jufse 
In  haste  that  it  were  do.' 
And  they  him  saiden  alle  no, 
For  well  they  wist  it  was  no  vice, 
Whan  he  ne  thoucrhte  no  malice 


1  For  no  good  be  let,  be  stayed  ior  no  money 
consideration. 


BOOK  VIL-UO\Y  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      375 


But  onlich  of  a  litel  slouth. 
And  thus  they  leften  as  for  routh 
To  do  justice  upon  his  giltc, 
For  that  he  shulde  nought  be  spiltc. 
And  whan  lie  sigh  the  maner  how 
They  wolde  him  save,  he  made  a  vow 
With   manful  herte,   and   thus  he 

saide, 

That  Rome  shulde  never  abraide 
His  heires  whan  he  were  of  dawc  ] 
That  her  aunce'stre  brake  the  la\ve. 
Forthy  er  that  they  weren  ware, 
Forthwith  the  same  swerde  he  bare 
The  statute  of  his  lawe  kepte, 
So  that  all  Rome  his  dethebewepte. 

"  git  ot^cr  place  also  I  rede, 
Where  that  a  juge  his  owne  dede 
He  wol  nought  venge  of  lawe  broke, 
The  king  it  hath  him  selven  wroke. 
The  grete  king,  which  Cambises 
Was  hote,  a  juge  laweles 
He  found,  and  into  re'membraiince 
He  did  upon  him  such  vengeauncc : 
Out  of  his  skin  he  was  beflain 
All  quick,  and  in  that  wise*  slain, 
So  that  his  skin  was  shape  all  mete 
And  nailed  on  the  same  sete, 
Where  that  his  sond  shulde  sitte : 
Avise  him  if  he  wolde  flitte 
The  lawd  for  the  covetise, 
There  sigh  he  redy  his  jui'se. 

"  Thus  in  defalte  of  other  juge 
The  king  mote  otherwhile  juge 
To  holden  up  the  righte  lawe. 
And  for  to  spekc  of  tholde  dawe 
To  take  ensample  of  that  was  tho, 
I  finde  a  tale  write  also, 
How  that  a  worthy  prince  is  holde 
The  lawes  of  his  londe  to  holde, 
P^irst  for  the  highe'  Goddes  sake 
And  eke  for  that  him  is  betake 
The  people  for  to  guide  and  lede, 
Which  is  the  charge  of  hiskinghede. 

1  IVhan  /u"  were  o/dau'e,  when  his  days  were 
ended. 


croniquc  I  rede  thus 
Of  the  rightfull  Ligurgius, 
Which  of  Athene's  prince  was, 
How  he  the  lawe  in  every  cas 
Wherof  he  shulde  his  people  reule, 
Hath  set  upon  so  good  a  reule 
In  all  this  world  that  cite  none 
Of  lawe  was  so  well  begone ; 
Forth   with  the  trouthe  of  gover- 

naunce 

There  was  among  hem  nodistaunce, 
But  every  man  hath  his  encrees  ; 
There  was  withoute  werre  pees, 
Without  envie  love  stood  ; 
Richesse  upon  the  comune  good 
And  nought  upon  the  singuler 
Ordeined  was  ;   and  the  power 
Of  hem  that  weren  in  estate, 
Was  sauf ;  wherof  upon  debate 
There  stood  no  thing,  so  that  in 

reste 

Might  every  man  his  herte  restc. 
"And  whan  this  noble  rightfull 

king, 

Sigh  how  it  .ferde  of  all  this  thing 
Wherof  the  people  stood  in  ese, 
He  which  for  ever  woldd  plese 
The   highe  God  whose  thank  he 

sought, 

A  wonder  thing  than  he  bethought 
And  shope,  if  that  it  mighte  be, 
How  that  his  lawe  in  the  cite 
Might  afterward  for  ever  laste. 
And  therupon  his. wit  he  caste, 
What  thing  him  were  best  to  feigne, 
That  he  his  purpose  might  atteigne. 
A  parlement  and  thus  he  set 
His  wisdom  where  that  he  beset 
In  audience  of  great  and  smaie, 
And  in  this  wise  he  tolde  his  tale : 
*  God  wote,  and  so  ye  woteu  alle, 
Here  afterward  how  so  it  falle. 
Vet  into  now  my  will  hath  be 
To  do  justfce  and  equite 
In  forth  ring  of  comun  profile, 


376 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Such  hath  ben  ever  my  delite. 
But  of  o  thing  I  am  beknowe, 
The  which  my  will  is  that  ye  knowe. 
The  lawe  which  I  toke  on  honde, 
Was  all  to-gider  of  Goddes  sonde 
And  no  thinge  of  min  owne  wit, 
So  mote  it  nede  endure  yit 
And  shall  do  lenger,  if  ye  will, 
For  I  wol  telle  you  the  skill. 
The  god  Mercurius  and  no  man 
He  hath  me  taught  all  that  I  can 
Of  suche*  lawes  as  I  made, 
Wherof  that  ye  ben  alle"  glad. 
It  was  the  god  and  no  thing  I, 
Which  did  all  this,  and  now  forth  y 
He  hath  commaunded  of  his  grace, 
That  I  shall  come  into  a  place 
Which  is  forein,  out  in  an  ile, 
Where  I  mot  tarie  for  a  while 
With  him  to  spekeand  he  hath  bede. 
For  as  he  saith,  in  thilke  stede 
He  shall  me  suche  thinges  telle 
Thateverwhiletheworldshal  dwelle 
Athenes  shall  the  better  fare. 
But  first  er  that  I  thider  fare, 
For  that  I  wolde  that  my  lawe 
Amonges  you  ne  be  withdrawe 
There  whiles  that  I  shall  be  oute, 
Forthy  to  setten  out  of  doubte 
Both  you  and  me,  thus  wol  I  pray, 
That  ye  me  wolde  assure  and  say 
With  such  an  othe  as  ye  woll  take, 
That  eche  of  you  shall  undertake 
My  lawes  for  to  kepe  and  holde.' 

"They  saiden  alle",  that  they  wolde. 
And  there  upon  they  swore  here  othe, 
That  fro  that  time  that  he  goth 
Till  he  to  hem  be  come  ayeine 
They  shuld  his  lawes  well  and  pleine 
In  every  point  kepe  and  fulfill. 
Thus  hath  Ligurgius  his  will, 
And  toke  his  leve  and  forth  he  went. 
But  list  now  well  to  what  entent 
Of  rightwisnesse  he  did  so. 
For  after  that  he  was  ago, 


He  shope  him  never  to  be  founde  : 
So  that  Athenes,  which  was  bounde, 
Never  after  shulde  be  relesed, 
Ne  thilke  gode  lawe  cesed, 
Which  was  for  comun  profit  set. 
And  in  this  wise  he  hath  it  knet, 
He    which    the    commun    profite 

sought, 

The  king  his  owne  estate  ne  rough t.1 
To  do  profite  to  the  comune 
He  toke  of  exile  the  fortune 
And  lefte  of  prince  thilke  office 
Only  for  love  and  for  justice, 
Through  which  he  thought,  if  that 

he  might, 

For  ever  after  his  deth  to  right 
The  cite  which  was  him  betake. 
Wherof  men  ought  ensample  take 
The  gode  lawe's  to  avaunce 
With  hem  which  under  governaunce 
The  lawes  hav£  for  to  kepe. 
For  who  that  wolde  take  kepe 
Of  hem  that  firste  lawes  founde, 
Als  fer  as  lasteth  any  bounde 
Of  londe  her  names  yet  ben  knowe. 
And  if  it  like  the  to  knowe 
Some  of  her  name's,  how  they  stonde, 
Now  herke  and  thou  shalt  under- 

stonde. 

y>f  eperg  bienfcut  the  rnerite 
The  God  him  self  it  woll  aquite. 
And  eke  full  ofte  it  falleth  so, 
The  worlde  it  woll  aquite  also, 
But  that  may  nought  ben  even  liche. 
The  God  he  yiveth  the  heven  riche, 
The  world  yifth  only  but  a  name 
Which  stant  upon  the  gode  fame 
Of  hem  that  done  the  gode  dede. 
And  in  this  wise  double  mede 
Receiven  they  that  done  well  here, 
Wherof  if  that  the  list  to  here 
After  the  fame  as  it  is  blowe, 
There  might  thou  well  the  sothe 

knowe, 

i)  cared  for. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      377 


How  thilke  honeste  besinesse 
Of  hem  that  first  for  rightwisnesse 
Among  the  men  the  lawcs  made, 
May  never  upon  this  erthd  fade. 
For  ever  while  there  is  a  tunge, 
Her  names  shall  be  rede  and  sunge 
And  holde  in  the  cronique  write, 
vSo  that  the  men  it  sholden  wite 
To  speke  good,  as  they  well  oughten, 
Of  hem  that  first  the  lawes  soughten 
In  forthring  of  the  worldes  pees. 
Unto  the  Hebrews  was  Moises 
The  first,  and  to  thegipciens 
Mercurius,  and  to  Trojens 
First  was  Numa  Pompilius, 
To  Athenes  Ligurgius 
Yave  first  the  lawe,  and  to  Gregois, 
Foroneus  hath  thilke  vois, 
And  Romulus  to  the  Remains  ; 
For  suche  men  that  ben  vilains, 
The  lawe  in  such  a  wise  ordeigneth, 
That  what  man  to  the  lawe  pleigneth, 
Be  so  the  juge  stond  upright, 
He  shall  be  served  of  his  right. 
And  so  ferforth  it  is  befalle 
That  lawe  is  come  among  us  alle, 
God  leve  it  mote  well  bene  holde, 
As  every  king  therto  is  holde. 
For  thing  whiche  is  of  kinges  set, 
With  kinges  ought  it  nought  be  let. 
What  king  of  lawe  taketh  no  kepe 
By  lawe  he  may  no  regne  kepe. 
Do  lawe  away,  what  is  a  king  ? 
Where  is  the  right  of  any  thing, 
If  that  there  be  no  lawe  in  londe  ? 
This  ought  a  king  well  understonde, 
As  he  which  is  to  lawe  swore, 
That  if  the  lawe  be  forbore 
Withouten  execucidn, 
It  maketh  a  lond  torne  up  so  down, 
Which  is  unto  the  king  a  sclaundre. 
Forthy  unto  king  Alisaundre 
The  wise  philosdphre  bad 
That  he  him  selve  first  be  lad 
Of  lawe,  and  forth  than  over  ail 


To  do  justice  in  generall, 
That  all  the  wide  lond  aboute 
The  justice  of  his  lawd  double,1 
And  thanne  shall  he  stonde  in  rest. 
For  therto  lawe  is  one  the  best 
Above  all  other  erthly  thing 
To  make  a  lege  drede  his  king. 

"  But  how  a  king  shall  gete  him 

love 

Toward  the  highe  God  above 
And  eke  among  the  men  in  erthe 
This  nexte  point,  which  is  the  ferthe 
Of  Aristotles  lore,  it  techeth, 
Wherof  who  that  the  scole  secheth 
What  policie  that  it  is 
The  boke  reherceth  after  this. 

gt  ncfceif)  nought  that  I  delate 
The  pris  which  preised  is  algate 
And  hath  bene  ever  and  ever  shall, 
Wherof  to  speke  in  speciall 
It  is  the  vertue  of  Pite, 
Through  which  the  highe  mageste 
Was  stered,  whan  his  sone  alight 
And  in  Pite  the  world  to  right 
Toke  of  the  maide  flessh  and  blood. 
Pite  was  cause  of  thilke  good, 
Wherof  that  we  ben  alle  save. 
Well  ought  a  man  Pite  to  have 
And  the  vertue  to  set  in  prise, 
Whanhehim  self  whiche  is  All  Wise 
Hath  shewed  why  it  shall  be  preised. 
Pite  may  nought  be  counterpeised 
Of  tirannie  with  no  peise. 
For  Pite  maketh  a  king  curteise 
Both  in  his  worde  and  in  his  dede. 
It  sit  well  every  lege  drede 
His  king,  and  to  his  hest  obey. 
And  right  so  by  the  same  wey 
It  sit  a  king  to  be  pitdus 
Toward  his  people  and  gracious 
Upon  the  reule  of  governaunce, 
So  that  he  worchd  no  vengeaunce 
Which  may  be  clepdd  cruelte. 
Justice  which  doth  equite 

1  Double,  fear,  reverence. 


378 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Is  dredful,  for  he  no  man  spareth 
But  in  the  lond,  where  Pite  fareth 
The  king  may  never  faile  of  love, 
For  Pite  through  the  grace  above 
So  as  the  philosophre  affermeth, 
His  regne  in  good  estate  confermeth. 
Thapostel  James  in  this  wise 
Saith,  what  man  shulde  do  jufse 
And  hath  not  Pite  forth  with  all. 
The  dome  of  him  which  demeth  all 
He  may  him  self  ful  sore  drede, 
That  him  shall  lacke  upon  the  nede 
To  finde  Pit6  whan  he  wolde. 
For  who  that  Pite  woll  beholde, 
It  is  a  point  of  Cristes  lore  ; 
And  for  to  loken  evermore 
It  is  behovely,  as  we  finde, 
To  reson  and  to  lawe  of  kinde. 
Cassiddore  in  his  aprise  telleth  : 
4  The  Regne   is   sauf,  where   Pite 

dwelleth.' 

And  Tullius  his  tale  avoweth 
Andsaith:  What  king  to  Piteboweth 
And  with  Pite  stont  overcome, 
He  hath  that  shilde  of  grace  nome 
Which  to  the  lunge's  yiveth  victoire. 

"  Of  Alisaundre  in  his  histoire 
I  rede,  how  he  a  worthy  knight 
Of  sodein  wrath  and  not  of  right 
Forjuged  hath,  and  he  appelleth. 
And  with  that  word  the  king  qua- 

releth 

And  saith  :  '  None  is  above  me.' 
'  That  wote  I  wel  my  lorde,'  quod  he, 
Fro  thy  lordship  appele  I  nought, 
But  fro  thy  Wrath  in  all  my  thought 
To  thy  Pite  stant  min  appele.' 
The  king,  which  understode  him 

wele, 

Of  pure  Pite  yave  him  grace. 
And  eke  I  rede  in  other  place 
Thus  saide  whilom  Constantine  : 
'  What  emperoiir  that  is  encline 
To  Pite  for  to  be  servaunt, 
Of  all  the  worlde's  remenaunt 


He  is  worthy  to  ben  a  lord.' 

"  §!tt  olbc  froft&s  of  recorde 
Thus  finde  I  write  of  ensamplaire  : 
Trajan  the  worthy  debonaire, 
By  whom  that  Rome  stood  governed, 
Upon  a  time,  as  he  was  lerned 
Of  that  he  was  to  fa'milie'r, 
He  saide  unto  that  counceller 
That  for  to  ben  an  emperour 
His  wil  was  nought  for  vein  honour 
Ne  yet  for  reddour1  of  justice, 
But  if  he  might  in  his  office 
His  lordes  and  his  people  plese. 
Him  thought  it  were  a  greater  ese 
With  love  her  hertes  to  him  drawe, 
Than  with  the  drede  of  any  lawe. 
For  whan  a  thing  is  do  for  double, 
Ful  ofte  it  cometh  the  wors  aboutc  ; 
But  where  a  kinge  is  pietous 
He  is  the  more  gracious, 
That  mochel  thrift  him  shall  betide 
Which  elles  shulde  torne  aside. 

"  ^0  60  ptte,  support,  and  grace 
The  philosophre  upon  a  place 
In  his  writing  of  daies  olde 
A  tale  of  great  ensample  tolde 
Unto  the  king  of  Macedoine, 
How  betwene  Kaire  and  Babeloinc, 
Whan  comen  is  the  somer  hete, 
It  hapneth  two  men  for  to  mete 
As  they  shulde  entren  in  a  pas 
Where  that  the  wildernesse  was. 
And  as  they  wenten  forth  spekcndc 
Under  the  large  wodes  ende, 
That  o  man  axeth  of  that  other  : 
'  What    man     art    thou,    my  leve 

brother  ? 
Which    is   thy   creaunce   and  thy 

feith?' 

'  I  am  paien,'  that  other  saith, 
'  And  by  the  lawe  which  I  use, 
I  shall  nought  in  my  feith  refuse 
To  loven  alle  men  aliche. 
The  pouer  both  and  eke  the  riche  ; 
1  Reddonr(rvideur)t  rigour. 


BOOK  VII.—  HOW  A   K1\'G    II'J.S  TAUGHT.      379 


Whan  they  ben  glad  I  shall  be  glad, 

And  sory  whan  they  ben  bestad ; 

So  shall  I  live  in  unite* 

With  every  man  in  his  cu 

For  right  as  to  my  self  I  wolde, 

Right  so  toward  al  other  I  sholde 

Be  gracious  and  debonaire. 

Thus  have  I  told  the  soft  and  faire 

My  feith,  my  lawe,  and  my  creaiince. 

And  if  the  list  for  aqueintaunce, 

Now  tell,  what  maner  man  thou  art  ? ' 

And  he  answerde  upon  his  part : 

'  I  am  a  Jewe,  and  by  my  lawe 

I  shall  to  no  man  be  felawe 

To  kepe  him  trouth  in  word  ne  dede 

But  if  he  be  withoute  drede 

A  verray  Jew  right  as  am  I. 

For  elles  I  may  trewe'ly 

Bereve  him  bothe  life  and  good.' 

"  The  paien  herde  and  under 
stood 

And  thought  it  was  a  wonder  lawe  ; 
And  thus  upon  her  sondry  sawe 
Talkende  bothe  forth  they  went. 
The  day  was  hote,  the  sonne*  brent, 
The  paien  rode  upon  an  asse, 
And  of  his  catell  more  and  lasse 
With  him  a  riche  trusse  he  ladde. 

"  The  Jew,  which  all  untrouthc 

hadde 

And  went  upon  his  feet  beside, 
Bethought  him  how  he  mighte  ride, 
And  with  his  wordes  sligh  and  wise 
Unto  the  paien  in  this  wise 
He  said  :  '  O,  now  it  shall  be  sene 
What  thing  it  is  thou  woldest  mene. 
For  if  thy  la\ve  be  certain, 
As  thou  hast  tolde,  I  dare  well  sain 
Thou  wolt  beholde  my  destresse, 
Which  am  so  full  of  werinesse 
That  I  ne  may  unethe  go, 
And  let  me  ride  a  mile  or  two 
So  that  I  may  my  body  ese.' 

The  paien  wold  him  nought  dis- 
plese 


Of  that  he  spake,  but  in  pile 
It  list  him  for  to  knuwc  and  be 
The  pleinte  which  that  other  made. 
And  for  he  wolde  his  herte  glade, 
He   light  and  made  him  nothing 

straunge, 
Thus    was    there    made    a    newc 

chaunge. 

The  paien  goth,  the  Jewe  alofte 
Was  set  upon  his  asse  sofie. 
So  gone  they  forth  carpende  faste 
On  this  and  that,  till  atte  laste 
The  paien  mighte  go  no  more 
And  praide  unto  the  Jew  therfore 
To  suffre  him  ride  a  litel  while. 
The    Jew,   which  thought  him  to 

beguile, 

Anone  rode  forth  the  grete  pas 
And  to  the  paien  in  this  cas 
He  saide* :  '  Thou  hast  do  thy  right 
Of  that  thou  haddest  me  benight 
To  do  succour  upon  my  nede, 
And  that  accordeth  to  the  dede, 
As  thou  art  to  the  lawe  holde. 
And  in  such  wise,  as  I  the  tolde, 
I  thenke  also  for  my  partie 
Upon  the  lawe  of  Jewerie 
To  worche  and  do  my  due'te. 
Thin  asse  shall  go  forth  with  me 
With  all  thy  good,  which   I   have 

sesed, 

And  that  I  wot  thou  art  disesed 
I  am  right  glad  and  nought  mispaid.' 
And  whan  he  hath  these  wordes 

said, 
In  alle  haste  he  rode  away. 

"  This  paien  wot  none  other  way. 
But  on  the  grounde  he  kneleth  even, 
His  handes  up  unto  the  heven, 
And  said  :  *O  highe  sothfastnesse, 
That  lovest  alle  rightwisnesse, 
Unto  thy  dome,  lorde,  1  appele, 
Beholde  and  deme  my  querele 
With  humble  herte  I  the  beseche, 
The  mercy  bothe  and  eke  the  wreche 


38o 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


I  set  all  in  thy  jugement.' 
And  thus  upon  his  marrement 
This  paien  hath  made  his  preiere. 
And  than  he  rose  with  drery  chere 
And  goth  him  forth,  and  in  his  gate 
He  cast  his  eye  about  algate 
The  Jewe  if  that  he  mights'  se. 
But  for  a  time  it  may  nought  be, 
Till  atte  last  ayein  the  night, 
So  as  God  wolde  he  went  aright 
As  he  which  held  the  highe  wey, 
And  than  he  sigh  in  a  valley, 
Where  that  the  Jewe  liggend  was, 
All  bloody,  dede  upon  the  gras, 
Which  straungled  was  of  a  leon. 
And  as  he  loked  up  and  down, 
He  found  his  asse  faste  by 
Forth  with  his  harneis  redely 
All  hole  and  sound  as  he  it  lefte 
Whan  that  the  Jewe  it  him  berefte  : 
Wherof  he  thonke'd  God  knelende. 
"  Lo,  thus  a  man  may  knowe  at 

ende, 

How  the  pitous  pite  deserveth. 
For  what  man  that  to  Pite  serveth, 
As  Aristotle  it  bereth  witnesse, 
God  shall  his  fomen  so  represse, 
That  they  shall  ay  stond  under  fote. 
Pite'  men  sain  is  thilke  rote 
Wherof  the  vertues  springen  alle. 
What  infortune  that  befalle 
In  any  lond,  lack  of  Pite 
Is  cause  of  thilke  adversite  ; 
And  that  alday  may  shewe  at  eye, 
Who  that  the  world  discretely  sigh. 
Good  is  that  every  man  therfore 
Take  hede  of  that  is  said  to-fore. 
For  of  this  tale  and  other  inowe 
These  noble  princes  whilom  drowe 
Her  evidence  and  her  apprise, 
As  men  may  finde  in  many  a  wise, 
Who  that  these  olde  bpkes  rede. 
And  though  they  ben  in  erthe  dede, 
Her  gode  name  may  nought  deie 
For  Pite  which  they  wold  obey 


To  do  the  dedes  of  mercy. 
And  who  this  tale  redely 
Remembre,  as  Aristotle  it  tolde, 
He  may  the  will  of  God  beholde 
Upon  the  point  as  it  was  ended, 
Wherof  that  Pite  stood  commended, 
Whiche  is  to  Charite  felawe, 
As  they  that  kepen  both  o  lawe. 
"  Of  Pite  for  to  speke  pleine, 
Which  is  with  mercy  well  beseine, 
Full  ofte  he  woll  him  selve  peine 
To  kepe  an  other  fro  the  peine. 
For  Charite  the  moder  is 
Of  Pite,  which  nothing  amis 
Can  suffre  if  he  it  may  amende. 
It  sit  to  every  man  live'nde 
To  be  pitous,  but  none  so  wele 
As  to  a  king,  which  on  the  whele 
Fortune  hath  set  aboven  all. 
For  in  a  king,  if  so  befalle 
That  his  pite  be  ferine  and  stable, 
To  all  the  londe  it  is  vailable 
Only  through  grace  of  his  persone. 
For  the  pite  of  him  alone 
May  all  the  large  roialme  save. 
So  sit  it  wel  a  king  to  have 
Pite.      For  this  Valeire  tolde 
And  said,  how  that  by  dales  olde 
(£o6rus,  which  was  in  his  degree 
King  of  Athene's  the  citee, 
A  werre  he  had  ayein  Dorence. 
And  for  to  take  his  evidence, 
What  shall  befalle  of  the  bataile, 
He    thought    he    wolde    him    first 

counseile 

With  Apollo,  in  whom  he  triste, 
Through  whose   answere   thus   he 

wiste 
Of   two    points    that    he    mighte 

chese, — 

Or  that  he  wolde  his  body  lese 
And  in  bataile  him  selve  deie, 
Or  elles  the  seconde  wey 
To  seen  his  people  discomfite. 
•  But  he,  which  Pite  hath  parfite 


BOOK  VII.—HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      381 


Upon  the  point  of  his  beleve, 
The  people  thoughte  to  releve 
And  chese  him  selve  to  be  clede. 
Where  is  now  such  another  hede 
Which  wolde  for  the  limme's  die  ? 
And  netheles  in  some  partie 
It  ought  a  kinges  hertd  stere 
That  he  his  lege  men  forbere. 
And  eke  toward  his  enemies 
Full  ofte  he  may  deserve  prise 
To  take  of  Pite'  remembraunce  - 
Where   that   he   mighte    do    ven- 

geailnce. 

For  whan  a  king  hath  the  victoire 
And  than  he  drawe  into  memoire 
To  do  pite"  in  stede  of  wreche 
He  may  nought  fail  of  thilke  speche 
Wherof  arist  the  worldes  fame, 
To  yive  a  prince  a  worthy  name. 
"  g  trc6c,   I)0tt>  whilom   that 

PompeY, 

To  whom  that  Rome  must  obey, 
A  werre  had  in  jeopartie 
Ayein  the  king  of  Armenie, 
Which  of   long  time  him    hadde 

greved. 

But  and  last  it  was  acheved, 
That  he  this  king  discomfit  hadde 
And  forth  with  him  to  Rome  ladde 
As  prisoner,  where  many  a  day 
In  sory  plite  and  pouer  he  lay, 
The  cordne  on  his  hede  deposed, 
Withinne  wallas  fast  enclosed. 
And  with  full  great  humilite 
He  suffreth  his  adversite. 
Pompeie  sigh  his  pacidnce 
And  toke  pite  with  conscience, 
So  that  upon  his  highd  deis 
To-fore  all  Rome  in  his  paleis, 
As  he  that  wolde  upon  him  rewe, 
Let  yive  him  his  corond  newe 
And  his  estate  all  full  and  pleine 
Restoreth  of  his  regne  ayein 
And  said,  *  it  was  more  goodly  thing 
To  makd  than  undone  a  king, 


To  him  which  power  had  of  bothe.' 
Thus  they,  that  \\eren  bothe*  wrothe, 
Accorden  hem  to  finall  pees. 
And  yet  justice  nethe'lees 
Was  kept  and  in  nothing  offended, 
Wherof  PompeV  is  yet  commended. 
There  may  no  king  him  self  excuse 
But  if  justice  he  kepe  and  use, 
Which,  for  to  escheud  cruelte, 
He  mote  attempre  with  Pitd. 
Of  crueltd  the  felony 
Engendred  is  of  tiranny\ 
Ayein  the  whose  condition 
God  is  him  self  the  champion 
Whose  strength^  may  no  man  wiih- 

stonde. 

For  ever  yet  it  hath  so  stonde 
That  God  a  tiraunt  over  ladde. 
But  where  Pite  the  reine  ladde 
There  mighte  no  fortune  last, 
Which  was  grevous.     But  atte  last 
The  God  him  self  it  hath  redressed. 
Pitd  is  thilke  vertue  blessed, 
Which  never  let  his  maister  falle. 
But  Crueltd  though  it  so  falle 
That  it  may  regnd  for  a  throwe, 
God  woll  it  shall  ben  over  throwe, 
Wherof  ensamples  ben  inough 
Of  hem  that  thilkd  merel  drowe.1 

($)f  cruclf c  I  rede  thus, 
Whan  the  tirdnt  Leoncius 
Was  to  thempire  of  Rome  arrived. 
Fro  which  he  hath  with  strengthe 

prived 

The  pietoiis  Justinidn, 
As  he  which  was  a  cruel  man, 
His  nase  of  and  his  lippes  both 
He  kuttd,  for  he  wolde  him  loth 
Unto  the  people  and  make  unable. 
But  he  which  all  is  merciable, 
The  highe*  God  ordeineth  so, 
That  he  within  a  time  also, 

1  Thilke  merel  drmvf,  suffered  that  pain. 
Traire  la.  nterelt,  in  old  French,  meant  to  ex 
pose  oneself  to  danger,  endure  pain  or  fatigue 
(Godefroy). 


382 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Whan  he  was  strongest  in  his  ire, 
Was  shoven  out  of  his  empire. 
Tiberius  the  power  hadde 
And  Rome  after  his  will  he  ladde, 
And  for  Leonce  in  suche  a  wise 
Ordeineth  that  he  toke  juise 
Of  nase  and  lippes  bothe  two, 
For  that  he  did  another  so 
Which  more  worthy  was  than  he. 
Lo,  which  a  fall  hath  Cruelte, 
And  Pite  was  set  up  ayein. 
For  after  that  the  bokes  sain, 
Terbellis  king  of  Bulgarie 
With  helpe  of  his  chivalerie 
Justinian  hath  unprisoned 
And  to  thempire  ayein  coroned. 
"  gn  <t  cronique  I  finde  also 
Of  Siculus,  which  was  eke  so 
A  cruel  king  like  the  tempest, 
The  whom  no  pitd  might  arest. 
He  was  the  first,  as  bok^s  say, 
Upon  the  see  which  found  galey 
And  let  hem  make*  for  the  werre, 
As  he  which  all  was  out  of  herre  1 
Fro  pite  and  misericorde, 
For  therto  couthe   he  nought  ac- 

corde  ; 

But  whom  he  mighte  slain  he  slough, 
And  therof  was  he  glad  inough. 
He  had  of  counseil  many  one, 
Among  the  whiche'  there  was  one, 
By  namd  which  Perillus  hight. 
And  hebethoughthim,howhemight 
Unto  the  tirant  do  liking. 
And  of  his  own  ymagimng 
Let  forge  and  make  a  bulle  of  bras, 
And  on  the  side*  cast  there  was 
A  dore,  where  a  man  may  inne 
W7han  he  his  peine  shall  beginne 
Through  fire  which  that  men  put 

under. 

And  all  this  did  he  for  a  wonder, 
That  whan  a  man  for  peine'  cride, 
The  bull  of  bras,  which  gapeth  wide, 

1  Out  of  herre,  unhinged,  broken  away. 


It  shuldd  seme  as  though  it  were 
A  bellewing  in  a  mannes  ere 
And  nought  the  crieng  of  a  man. 
But  he  which  alle  sleightes  can, 
The  Devil  that  lith  in  helle  fast, 
Him  that  it  cast  hath  overcast, 
That  for  a  trespas  which  he  dede 
He  was  put  in  the  same  stede, 
And  was  him  self  the  first  of  alle 
Which  was  into  that  peine  falle 
That  he  for  other  men  ordeigneth. 
There  was  no  man  that  him  com- 

pleigneth. 

Of  tyranny  and  cruelte 
By  this  ensample  a  king  may  se 
Himselfeandeke  his  counseil  bothe, 
How  they  ben  to  mankinde  lothe 
And  to  the  God  abhominable. 
Ensamples  that  ben  concordable 
I  finde  of  other  princes  mo, 
As  thou  shalt  here  of  time  ago. 
"  H*)e  gvefe  fmwf  D ionise, 
Which  mannes  life  set  of  no  prise, 
Unto  his  hors  full  ofte  he  yafe 
The   men   in   stede  of  corne  and 

chafe. 

So  that  the  hors  of  thilke  stood l 
Devoureden  the  manne's  blood, 
Till  fortune  atte  laste  came 
That  Hercules  him  overcame, 
And  he  right  in  the  samd  wise 
Of  this  tirdnt  toke  the  juise. 
As  he  till  other  men  hath  do 
The  same  deth  he  deied  also, 
That  no  pite  him  hath  socoured 
Till  he  was  of  his  hors  devoured. 

"  Of  Lichaon  also  I  finde, 
How  he  ayein  the  lawe  of  kinde 
His  hostes  slough  and  into  mete 
He  made  her  bodies  to  ben  ete 
With  other  men  within  his  hous. 
But  Jupiter  the  glorious, 
Wrhich  was  commeved  of  this  thinr, 
Vengeaunce  upon  this  cruel  king 

1  Stood,  stud. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      383 


So  toke  that  he  fro  manne's  forme 
Into  a  wolfe  him  let  transforme. 
And  thus  the  cruelt^  was  kid 
Which  of  long  time  he  hath  hid. 
A  wolfe  he  was  than  openly, 
The  whose  nature  prively 
He  had  in  his  condicidn. 
And  unto  this  conclusion 
That  tiranny  is  to  despise, 
I  finde  en  sample  in  sondry  wise 
And  name"iich  of  hem  full  ofte, 
The  whom  Fortune  hath  set  alofte 
Upon  the  werre's  for  to  winne. 
But  how  so  that  the  wrong  beginne 
Of  tiranny,  it  may  nought  laste, 
But  suche  as  they  done  atte*  laste 
To  other  men  suche  on  hem  falleth. 
For  ayein  suche  pite*  calleth 
Vengeaunce*  to  the  God  above. 
For  who  that  hath  no  tendre  love 
In  saving  of  a  manne's  life, 
He  shall  be  foundd  so  giltife 
That  whan  he  woldd  mercy  crave, 
In  time  of  nede  he  shall  none  have. 

"  Of  the  nature*  this  I  finde, 
The  fierce  Ie6n  in  his  kinde, 
Which  goth  rampdnd  after  his  pray, 
If  he  a  man  finde  in  his  way 
He  woll  him  slain  if  he  withstonde. 
But  if  the  man  couth  understonde 
To  fall  anone  to-fore  his  face 
In  signe  of  mercy  and  of  grace, 
The  leon  shall  of  his  nature 
Restreigne  his  ire  in  such  mesiire 
As  though  it  were  a  bestd  tamed, 
And  torne  awey  halfmg  ashamed, 
That  he  the  man  shall  nothing  greve. 
How  shuldd  than  a  prince  acheve 
The  worlde's  grace,  if  that  he  wolde 
Uestruie  a  man  whan  he  is  yolde 
And  slant  upon  his  mercy  all  ? 

"  But  for  to  speke  in  specidll 
There  have  be  such  and  yet  there  be, 
Tiraunts,  whose  herte's  no  pite* 
to  no  point  of  mercy  ply, 


That  they  upon  her  tiranny 
Ne  gladen  hem  the  men  to  slee. 
And  as  the  rages  of  the  see 
Ben  unpitoiis  in  the  tempest, 
Right  so  may  no  pite*  arest 
Of  cruelte  the  great  oultrclge, 
Which  the  tiraiint  in  his  coritge 
Engendred  hath,  wherof  I  finde 
A  tale,  which  cometh  now  to  minde. 

Sf  rcbc  in  ol6£  bofc&s  thus, 
There  was  a  duke,  which  Spertachus 
Men  clepe,  and  was  a  werriour, 
A  cruel  man,  a  conqueroiir 
With  strongd  power  which  he  lad. 
For  this  condition  he  had, 
That  wherehimhapneth  the  victoirc, 
His  lust  and  all  his  most£  gloire 
Was  for  to  slee  and  nought  to  save. 
Of  raunsom  wolde  he  no  good  have 
For  saving  of  a  manne's  life, 
But  all  goth  to  the  swerde  and  knife 
So  lefe  him  was  the  manne's  blood. 
And  nethe'les  yet  thus  it  stood, 
So  as  Fortune  aboute  went, 
He  fell  right  heire  as  by  descent 
To  Pers  and  was  corondd  king. 
And  whan  the  worship  of  this  thing 
Wras  falle,  and  he  was   kinge  of 

Perse, 

If  that  they  weren  first  diverse, 
The  tirannie*s  which  he  wrought, 
A  thousand  fold  wel  more  he  sought 
Than  afterward  to  do  malice, 
Till  God  vengeaunce  ayein  the  vice 
Hath  shape*.      For  upon  a  tide. 
Whan  he  was  highest  in  his  pride, 
In  his  rancour  and  in  his  hete, 
Ayein  the  queue  of  Massegete, 
Which  Thamaris  that  timd  hight, 
He  madd  werre  all  that  he  might. 
And    she  which    wolde    her    lond 

defende 

Her  owne  sone  ayein  him  sende 
Which  the  defence  hath  undertake, 
But  he  discomfit  was  and  take. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  whan  this  king  him  had   in 

honde, 

He  wol  no  mercy  understonde, 
But  did  him  sleen  in  his  presence. 
The  tiding  of  this  violence 
Whan  it  cam  to  the  moders  ere, 
She  sende  anone  ay  wide  where 
To  suchd  frendes  as  she  had, 
A  great  power  till  that  she  lad 
In  sondry  wise,  and  tho  she  cast 
How  she  this  king  may  overcast. 
And  atte  last  accorded  was, 
That  in  the  daunger  of  a  pas, 
Through  which  this  tiraunt  shulde 

pas, 

She  shope  his  power  to  compas 
With  strength  of  men  by  such  a  wey 
That  he  shall  nought  escape  awey. 
And  whan  she  hadde'  thus  ordeigned, 
She  hath  her  owne  body  feigned 
For  fere  as  though  she  woldd  flee 
Outofherlonde.    And  whan  thathe 
Hath  herde  how  that  this  ladyfledde, 
So  fast  after  the  chace  he  spedde, 
That  he  was  founde  out  of  array. 
For  it  betid  upon  a  day 
Into  the  pas  whan  he  was  falle, 
Thembusshements  to-breken  alle 
And  him  beclipt  on  every  side, 
That  flee  ne  might  he  nought  aside. 
So  that  there  weren  dede  and  take 
Two  hundred  thousand  for  his  sake 
That  weren  with  him  of  his  hoste. 
And  thus  was  laid  the  grete  boste 
Of  him  and  of  his  tiranny. 
It  halp  no  mercy  for  to  cry 
To  him  which  whilom  dide  none. 
For  he  unto  the  quene  anone 
WTas  brought,  and  whan  that  she 

him  sigh, 
This  word  she  spake  and  said  on 

high: 
'  O  man,  which  out  of  mannes 

kinde 
Reson  of  man  hast  left  behinde 


And  lived  worse  than  a  beste 
Whom  pile  mighte  nought  areste  ; 
The  manne's  blood  to  shede  and 

spille, 

Thou  haddest  never  yet  thy  fille, 
But  now  the  laste  time  is  come, 
That  thy  malice  is  overcome ; 
As  thou  till  other  men  hast  do, 
Now  shall  be  do  to  the  right  so.' 

Tho  bad  this  lady  that  men  sholde 
A  vessel  bringe,  in  which  she  wolde 
Se  the  vengeaiince  of  his  juise 
Which  she  began  anone  devise. 
And  toke  the  princes  which  he  ladde, 
By  whom   his    chefe   counseil   he 

hadde. 

And  while  hem  lasteth  any  breth, 
She  made  hem  blede  to  the  deth 
Into  the  vessel  where  it  stood, 
And  whan  it  was  fulfild  of  blood, 
She  caste  this  tiraunt  therinne 
And  said  him  :    '  Lo,  thus  might 

thou  winne 

The  lustes  of  thine  appetite. 
In  blood  was  whilom  thy  delite, 
Nowshalt  thou  drinken  all  thy  fille.' 
And  thus  onlich  of  Goddes  wille 
He  which  that  wolde  him  selven 

straunge 

To  pite,  found  mercy  so  straunge 
That  he  withoute  grace  is  lore. 

"  So  may  it  shewe  well  therefore, 
That  cruelte  hath  no  good  ende. 
But  pitd  how  so  that  it  wende 
Maketh  that  God  is  mercidble, 
If  there  be  cause  resondble, 
Why  that  a  King  shall  be  pitoiis. 
But  elles  if  he  be  doubtous 
To  sleen  in  cause  of  rightwisnesse, 
It  may  be  said  no  pitousnesse 
But  it  is  pusillamite, 
Whiche  every  prince  shulde'  flee. 
For  if  pite  mesure  excede, 
Knighthode  may  nought  wel  pro- 
cede 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.     385 


To  do  justise  upon  the  right. 
For  it  belongeth  to  a  knight 
As  gladly  for  to  fight  as  reste 
To  set  his  lege  people  in  reste 
Whan    that  the  werre  upon  hem 

falleth. 

For  than  he  mote  as  it  befalleth 
Of  his  knighthode  as  a  Ie6n 
Be  to  the  people  a  champion 
Withouten  any  pite  feigned. 
For  if  manhode  be  restreigned, 
Or  be  it  pees  or  be  it  werre, 
Justice  goth  all  out  of  herre, 
So  that  knighthode  is  set  behinde. 

"  ^)f  Jlrisf  oUcs  Jorc  I  finde, 
A  King  shall  make  good  visage 
That  no  man  knowe  of  his  corage 
But  all  honour  and  worthinesse. 
For  if  a  King  shall  upon  gesse 
Withoute  verray  caus£  drede, 
He  may  be  liche  to  that  I  rede, — 
And  though  that  be  liche  to  a  fable, 
Then  sample  is  good  and  resondble. 

"  As  it  by  olde  dales  fell, 
I  rede  whil6m  that  an  hill 
Up  in  the  londes  of  Archade 
A  wonder  dredfull  noise  it  made. 
For  so  it  fell  that  ilke  day, 
This  hill  on  his  childinge  lay. 
And  whan  thethrowes  on  him  come, 
His  nois£  lich  the  day  of  dome 
Was  ferefull  in  a  mannes  thought 
Of  thing  which    that    they    sighe 

nought. 

But  well  they  herden  all  aboute 
The  noise  of  which  they  were  in 

doubte, 

As  they  that  wenden  to  be  lore 
Of  thing  which  thanne*  was  unbore. 
The  nere  this  hill  was  upon  chaunce 
To  taken  his  deliveraunce, 
The  more  unbuxomlich  he  cride  ; 
And  every  man  was  fled  aside 
For  drede  and  left  his  owne  hous. 
And  atte  last  it  was  a  mous 


The  which  was  bore  and  to  norice 
Betake.     And  tho  they  helde  hem 

nice, 

For  they  withoute  cause  dradde. 
Thus  if  a  King  his  hertd  ladde 
With  every  thing  that  he  shall  here, 
Ful  ofte  he  shuldechaungehis  chere 
And  upon  fantasie  drede 
Whan  that  there  is  no  cause  of 
drede. 

$race  to  his  prince  tolde, 
That  him  were  lever  that  he  wolde 
Upon  knighthode  'Achillem  sue 
In  time  of  werre  than  escheue 
So  as  Thersites  did  at  Troy. 
Achilles  al  his  hole  joy 
Set  upon  armes  for  to  fight ; 
Thersites  sought  all  that  he  might 
Unarmed  for  to  stonde  in  reste. 
But  of  the  two  it  was  the  beste, 
That  Achilles  upon  the  nede 
Hath  do,  wherof  his  knightlihede 
Is  yet  commended  overall. 

eating  ^aloinon  in  speciall 
Saith :   'As  there  is  a  time  of  pees, 
So  is  a  tim£  netheles 
Of  werre,  in  whiche  a  prince  algate 
Shall  for  the  comun  right  debate 
And  for  his  owne  worship  eke. 
But  it  behoveth  nought  to  seke 
Only  the  werre*  for  worship, 
But  to  the  right  of  his  lordship 
Which  he  is  holdd  to  defende 
Mote  every  worthy  prince  entende 
Betwene  the  simplesse  of  pite 
And  the  foolhaste  of  cruelte". 
Where  stant  the  verray  hardiesse, 
There  mote  a  king  his  herte  adresse, 
Whan  it  is  time"  to  forsake 
And  whan  time  is  also  to  take 
The  dedly  werres  upon  honde, 
That  he  shall  for  no  drede  wonde l 
If  rightwisnesse  be  withall. 
For  God  is  mighty  over  all 

1   H'omii-,  turn  aside. 

2  B 


;86 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


To  furtheren  every  marines  trouthe ; 
But  it  be  through  his  owne  slouthe, 
And  namely  the  kinges  nede 
It  may  nought  faile  for  to  spede. 
For  he  stant  one  for  hem  alle, 
So  mote  it  well  the  better  falle. 
And  wel  the  more  God  favoureth, 
Whan  hethecomun  right  socoureth. 
And  for  to  se  the  soth  in  decle, 
Behold  the  bible  and  thou  might  rede 
Of  great  ensamples  many  one, 
Wherof  that  I  wil  tellen  one. 

"  3lpon  a  time  as  it  befell 
Ayein  Jude  and  Israel, 
Whan  sondry  kinges  come  were 
In  purpos  to  destruie  there 
The  people  which  God  kepte  tho, 
It  stood  in  thilke  daies  so, 
That  Gedeon,  which  shulde  lede 
The  Goddes  folk,  toke  him  to  rede 
And  sende  in  all  the  lond  aboute, 
Till  he  assembled  hath  a  route 
With  thritty  thousand  of  defence 
To  fight  and  make  insistence 
Ayein  the  which  hem  wolde  assailc. 
And  netheles  that  o  bataile  l 
Of  thre  that  weren  enemis, 
Was  double  more  than  was  all  his, 
Wherof  that  Gedeon  him  drad, 
That  he  so  litel  people  had. 
But  he  which  alle  thing  may  helpe, 
Where  that  there  lacketh  mannes 

helpe, 

To  Gedeon  his  aungel  sent 
And  bad,  er  that  he  further  went, 
All  openly  that  he  do  cry 
That  every  man  in  his  party 
Which  wolde  after  his  owne  will 
In  his  delite  abide  still 
At  home  in  any  maner  wise 
For  purchace  or  for  covetise, 
For  lust  of  love  or  lacke  of  herte, 
He  shulde  nought  aboute  sterte 
But  holde  him  still  at  home  in  pees. 

J  Bataile,  army. 


Wherof  upon  the  morwe  he  lees 
Wel  twenty  thousand  men  and  mo 
The  which  after  the  cry  ben  go. 
Thus  was  with  him  but  only  left 
The  thridde  parte,  and  yet  God  eft 
His  aungel  send  and  saide  this 
To  Gedeon  :  ;  If  it  so  is 
That  I  thin  help  shall  undertake, 
Thou  shalt  yet  lasse  people  take 
By  whom  my  will  is  that  thou  spede. 
Forthy  to  morwe  take  good  hede 
Unto  the  flood  whan  ye  be  come, 
What  man  that  hath  the  water  nome 
Up  in  his  hande  and  lappeth  so, 
To  thy  part  chese  out  alte  tho, 
And  him  which  wery  is  to  swinke 
Upon  his  wombe  and  lith  to  drinke 
Forsake,  and  put  hem  al  awey. 
For  I  am  mighty  alle  wey 
Where  as  me  list  min  help  to  shewe 
In  gode  men  though  they  be  fevve. 

"  This  Gedeon  awaiteth  wele 
Upon  the  morwe  and  every  dele, 
As  God  him  bad,  right  so  he  dede. 
And  thus  ther  leften  in  that  stede 
With  him  thre  hundred  and  no  mo, 
The  remenaunt  was  all  ago. 
Wherof  that  Gedeon  merveileth 
And  therupon  with  God  counseileth 
Fleming  as  ferforth  as  he  dare. 
And  God,  which  wolde  he  were  ware 
That  he  shall  spede  upon  his  right, 
Hath  bede  him  go  the  same  night 
And  take  a  man  with  him  to  here 
What  shall  be  spoke  in  this  matere 
Among  the  hethen  enemies, 
So  may  he  be  the  more  wise, 
What  afterwarde  him  shall  befalle. 
This  Gedeon  amonges  alle 
Phara,  to  whom  he  triste  most, 
By  night  toke  toward  thilke'  host, 
Which  logged  was  in  a  valey, 
To  here  what  they  wolden  say. 
Upon  his  fote  and  as  he  ferde 
Two  Sarazins  spekend  he  herde. 


BOOK  VIL—HOW  A  KING   WAS  TAUGHT.      387 


Ouod  one  :    '  Arede   my   svvcven  T 

aright, 

Whiche  I  met-  in  my  slope  to-night. 
Me  thought  I  sigh  a  barly  cake, 
Which  fro  the  hi  lie  his  wey  hath  take 
And  come  rollend  down  at  ones, 
And  as  it  were'  for  the  nones 
Forth  in  his  cours  so  as  it  ran 
The  kinge's  tent  of  Madian, 
Of  Amalech,  of  Amorie, 
Of  Amon  and  of  Jebuseie 
And  many  another  tente  mo 
With  grete  noise  as  me  thought  tho 
It  threw  to  grounde  and  over  cast 
And  all  his  host  so  sore  agast, 
That  I  awoke  for  pure  drede.' 
*  This  sweven  can  I  well  arede,' 
Quod  thother  Sarazin  anone, 
'  The  barly  cake  is  Gedeon, 
Which  fro  the  hill  down  sodeinly 
Shall  come  and  sette  such  askry 
Upon  the  kinges  and  us  both, 
That  it  shall  to  us  alld  lothe. 
For  in  such  drede  he  shall  us  bringe, 
That  if  we  hadde  flight  of  winge, 
The  wey  one  fote  in  our  despeire 
We  sholden  leve  and  flee  in  thaire/" 
For  there  shal  nothing  him  with- 

stonde.' 

Whan  Gedeon  hath  understonde 
This  tale,  he  thonketh  God  of  alle, 
And  privelich  ayein  he  stalle, 
So  that  no  life  4  him  hath  perceived. 
And  than  he  hath  fully  conceived, 
That  he  shall  spede.    And  therupon 
The  night  sudnd  he  shope  to  gone 
This  multitude  to  assaile. 

Now  shalt   thou    here  a  great 

merveile, 

With  what  wisdome  that  he  wrough  t. 
The  litel  people  which  he  brought 
Was  none  of  hem  that  he  ne  hath 


tt,  dream.  -  )[et,  dreamt. 

3  In  our  despair  we  should  kave  the  way  of 
going  on  foot,  and  fly  in  the  air. 
*  .NV  lf/e,  nobody. 


A  pot  of  erthe,  in  whichc  he  tath 
A  light  brenning  in  a  cresset, 
And  eche  of  hem  eke  a  trompet 
Bare  in  his  other  hond  beside. 
And  thus  upon  the  nightes  tide 
Duke  Gedeon  whan  it  was  derke 
Ordeineth  him  unto  his  werke, 
And  parteth  than  his  folke  in  thre 
And  chargeth  hem  that  they  ne  flee, 
And  taught  hem  how  they  shuld 

askry 

All  in  o  vois  par  compaigny. 
And  what  worde  eke  they  shulde 

speke, 
And  how  they  shulde  her  pottes 

breke 

Echone  with  other,  whan  they  herde 
That  he  him  selve  first  so  ferde. 
For  whan  they  come  into  the  stede, 
He  bad  hem  do  right  as  he  dede. 
And  thus  stalkende  forth  a  pas 
This  noble  duke  whan  time'  was 
His  pot  to-brake  and  loude  askrfde, 
And  tho  they  breke  on  every  side. 
The  trompe  was  nought  for  to  seke, 
He  blewe  and  so  they  blewen  eke 
With  such  a  noise  amonge   hem 

alle, 

As  though  the  heven  shulde  falle. 
The  hill  unto  her  vois  answerde. 
This  hoste  in  the  valey  it  herde 
And  sigh  how  that  hill  was  alight, 
So  what  of  hering  and  of  sight 
They  caughten  such  a  sodein  fere, 
That  none  of  hem  be  lefte  there. 
The  tenths  holy  they  forsoke 
That  they  none  other  good  ne  toke, 
But  only  with  her  body  bare 
They  fledde,  as  doth  the  wilde  hare. 
And  ever  upon  the  hill  they  blewe 
Till  that  they  sighen  time  and  knewe 
That  they  be  fled  upon  the  rage. 
And  whan  they  wiste  their  avaun- 

tage, 
They  fell  anone  unto  the  chace. 


388 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


"  Thus  might  thou  se,how  Goddes 

grace 

Unto  the  gode  men  availeth. 
But  elles  ofte  time  it  faileth 
To  such  as  be  nought  well  disposed. 
This  tale  nedeth  nought  be  glosed, 
For  it  is  openliche  shewed, 
That  God  to  hem  that  ben  well 

thewed 

Hath  yoveand  graunted  thevictoire, 
So  that  thensample  of  this  histoire 
Is  good  for  every  King  to  holde. 
First  in  himself  that  he  beholde 
If  he  be  good  of  his  living, 
And  that  the  folk  which  he  shal  bring 
Be  good  also,  for  than  he  may 
Be  glad  of  many  a  mery  day 
In  what  that  ever  he  hath  to  done. 
For  he  which  sit  above  the  mone 
And  alle  thing  may  spill  and  spede 
In  every  cause  and  every  nede, 
His  gode'  King  so  well  adresseth, 
That  all  his  fomen  he  represseth, 
So  that  there  may  no  man  him  dere. 
And  also  well  he  can  forbere 
And  suffre  a  wicked  king  to  falle 
In  honde"s  of  his  fomen  alle. 

"  ^ott>  furthermore  if  I  shall 

sain 

Of  my  matere  and  torne  ayein 
To  speke  of  Justice  and  Pitd 
After  the  reule  of  Realte, 
This  may  a  King  well  understonde, 
Knighthode  mot  be  take  on  honde 
Whan  that  it  stant  upon  the  nede, 
He  shall  no  rightfull  caus6  drede, 
No  more  of  werr^  than  of  pees, 
If  he  woll  stondd  blam^les. 
For  suche  a  cause  a  king  may  have, 
That  better  him  is  to  slee  than  save; 
Wherof  thou  might  en  sample  finde. 
The  highe  maker  of  mankinde 
By  Samuel  to  Saiil'bad, 
That  he  shall  nothing  ben  adrad 
Ayein  king  Agag  for  to  fight. 


For  this  the  Godhede  him  behight, 
That  Agag  shall  be  overcome. 
And  whan  it  is  so  ferforth  come, 
That  Saul  hath  him  descomfite, 
The  God  bad  make  no  respite, 
That  he  ne  shulde  him  sleen  anone. 
But  Saul  let  it  overgone 
And  dide  nought  the  Goddes  heste. 
For  Agag  made  a  great  beheste l 
Of  raunsom  which  he  wolde*  yive. 
King  Saul  suffreth  him  to  live 
And  feigneth  pite  forth  withalL 
But  he  which  seeth  and  knoweth  all, 
The  highe  God,  of  that  he  feigneth 
To  Samuel  upon  him  pleigneth, 
And  send  him  word  for  that  he  lefte 
Of  Agag  that  he  ne  berefte 
The  life,  he  shall  nought  only  deie 
Him  self,  but  fro  his  Regalie 
He  shall  be  put  for  evermo, 
Nought  he  but  eke  his  heire  also, 
That  it  shall  never  come  ayein. 
"  Thus  might  thou  se  the  sothe 

plein, 

That  of  to  moch  and  of  to  lite 
Upon  the  princes  stant  the  wite.- 
But  ever  it  was  a  Kinges  right 
To  do  the  dedes  of  a  knight. 
For  in  the  hondes  of  a  King 
The  dethe  and  life  is  all  o  thing 
After  the  lawe"s  of  justice; 
To  sleen,  it  is  a  dedly  vice 
But  if  a  man  the  deth  deserve. 
And  if  a  king  the  life  preserve 
Of  him  which  oughtd  for  to  deie, 
He  sueth  nought  thensamplarie, 
Which  in  the  bible  is  evident, 
How  David  in  his  testament, 
Whan  he  no  lenger  mighte*  live, 
Unto  his  sone  in  charge  hath  yive, 
That  he  Joab  shall  sleen  algate. 
And  whan  David  was  gone  his  gale, 
The  yonge  wise  Salomone 

1  Beheste,  promibe. 
'•*  Witc,  blame. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.     389 


His  faders  heste  did  anone 

And  slew  Joab  in  such  a  wise, 

That  they  that  herden  the  jufse 

Ever  after  dradden  him  the  more. 

And  God  was  eke  well  paid  therfore 

That  he  so  wolde  his  herte  ply 

The  lawes  for  to  justify. 

And  yet  he  kepte  forth  withall 

Pite,  so  as  a  prince  shall, 

That  he  no  tirannie  wrought. 

He  found   the  wisdom   which  he 

sought, 

And  was  so  rightfull  nethe'les 
That  all  his  life  he  stood  in  pees, 
That  he  no  dedly  werres  had, 
For  every  man  his  wisdom  drad. 
And  as  he  was  him  selve  wise, 
Right  so  the  worthy  men  of  prise 
He  hath  of  his  counseil  witholde, 
For  that  is  every  prince  holde 
To  make  of  such  his  retenue 
Which  wise  ben,  and  to  remue 
The  foole's.     For  there  is  no  thing, 
Which  may  be  better  about  a  king 
Than  counseil,  which  is  the  sub- 

staunce 
Of  all  a  kinges  governaiince. 

"  gn  ^alouton  a  man  may  se, 
What  thing  of  most  necessite 
Unto  a  worthy  King  belongeth, 
Whan    he    his    kingdom    under- 

fongeth. 

God  bad  him  chese  what  he  wolde 
And  saide  him  that  he  have  sholde 
What  he  wold  axe,  as  of  o  thing. 
And  he,  which  was  a  newe  king, 
Forth  therupon  his  bone l  praide 
To  God,  and  in  this  wisd  saide  : 
*  O  king,  by  whom  that  I  shall 

regne, 

Yive  me  Wisdome  that  I  my  regne 
Forth  with  the  people  which  I  have 
To  thin  honour  may  kepe  and  save.' 
Whan  Salomon  his  bone  hath  taxed, 

1  Bone,  boon. 


The  God  of  that  which  he  hath 

axed 
Was  right  well  paid  and  graunteth 

sone 

Nought  all  only  that  he  his  bone 
Shall  have  of  that,  but  of  richesse, 
Ofhele,  of  pees,  of  high  noblesse, 
Forth  with  Wisdom  at  his  axinges, 
Which  stant  above  all  other  thinges. 
"  But  what  king  woll  his  regne 

save, 

First  him  behoveth  for  to  have 
After  the  God  and  his  beleve 
Such  counseil  which  is  to  beleve 1 
Fullfild  of  trouth  and  rightwisnesse. 
But  above  all  in  his  noble'sse 
Betwene  the  reddour  and  pite 
A  king  shall  do  suche  equite 
And  sette*  the  balaunce  in  even, 
So  that  the  highe  God  in  heven 
And  all  the  people  of  his  nobley 
Loenge  2  unto  his  name*  say. 
For  most  above  all  erthly  good, 
Where  that  a  king  him  self  is  good, 
It  helpeth  ;  for  in  other  wey 
If  so  be  that  a  king  forswey,3 
Full  oft  er  this  it  hath  be  sain, 
The  comun  people  is  overlain 
And  hath  the  Kinges  sin  abought 4 
All  though  the  people  agulte'  nought. 
Of  that  the  King  his  God  misserveth, 
The   people    taketh   that    he    de- 

serveth ; 

Here  in  this  world,  but  die's  where 
I  not  how  it  shall  stonde  there. 
Forthy  good  is  a  king  to  triste 
First  to  him  self,  as  he  ne  wiste 
None  other  help  but  God  allone, 
So  shall  the  reule  of  his  persone 
Within  him  self  through  providence 
Ben  of  the  better  conscience. 
And  for  to  finde  ensample  of  this 

1  Beleve,  remain.  2  Lofrtff,  praise.  ^ 

3  Forswey,  become  remiss,  not  awake  to  his 
duty. 
*  Abought,  paid  forx  suffered  for. 


390 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


A  tale  I  rede,  and  soth  it  is. 

"  £nt  a  croufcfitc  it  tclleth  thus, 
The  King  of  Rome  Lucius 
Within  his  chambre  upon  a  night 
The  steward  of  his  hous  a  knight 
Forth  with  his  chamberlein  also 
To  counseil  hadde  bothe  two, 
And  stoden  by  the  chimenee 
To-gider  spekend  alle  thre. 
And  hapneth  that  the  Kinges  fole 
Sat  by  the  fire  upon  a  stole, 
As  he  that  with  his  babel l  plaide, 
And  yet  he  herde  all  that  theysaide, 
And  therof  toke  they  non  hede. 
The  King  hem  axeth  what  to  rede 
Of  such  matere  as  cam  to  mouth. 
And  they  him  tolden  as  they  couth. 
Whan  all  was  spoke  of  that  they 

ment, 

The  King  with  all  his  hole  entent 
That  atte  last  hem  axeth  this, 
What  King  men  tellen  that  he  is 
Among  the  folk  touchend  his  name, 
Or  it  be  pris,  or  it  be  blame, 
Right  after  that  they  herden  sain 
He  bad  hem  for  to  telle  it  plein, 
That  they  no  point  of  soth  forbere 
By  thilke  feith  that  they  him  bere. 

uThe  steward  first  upon  this  thing 
Yaf  his  answere  unto  the  King 
And  thought^  glose  in  this  matere 
And  said,  als  fer  as  he  can  here, 
His  name  is  good  and  honourable. 
Thus  was  the  steward  favourable, 
That  he  the  trouthe  plein  ne  tolde. 

The  King  than  axeth,  ashesholde, 
The  chamberlein  of  his  avise, 
And  he,  that  was  subtil  and  wise 
And  somdele  thought  upon  his  feith, 
Him  tolde,  how  all  the  people  saith, 
That  if  his  counseil  were  trewe, 
They  wistd'thanne'  well  and  knewe, 
That  of  him  self  he  shulde  be 
A  worthy  King  in  his  degre'. 

l  Babel,  bauble. 


And  thus  the  counseil  he  accuseth 
In  party,  and  the  king  excuseth. 
'•'The  fool,  which  herde  of  all 

the  cas, 

What  time  as  Godde's  wille  was, 
Sigh,     that     they    saiden    nought 

inough, 

And  hem  to  scorne  bothe'  lough, 
And  to  the  king  he  saide  tho  : 
'  Sir  king,  if  that  it  were  so 
Of  wisdome  in  thin  owne  mode, 
That  thou  thy  selven  were  good, 
Thy  counseil  shulde  nought  be  bad.' 
The  king  therof  merveile  had, 
Whan  that  a  fool  so  wisely  spake, 
And  of  him  self  found  out  the  lacke 
Within  his  owne  conscience. 
And  thus  the  fooles  evidence, 
Which  was  of  goddes   grace   en- 
spired, 
Maketh,   that   good   counseil   was 

desired. 

He  put  awey  the  vicious 
And  toke  to  him  the  vertuous. 
The  wrongfull  lawes  ben  amended, 
The  londds  good  is  well  despended, 
The  people  was  no  more  opressed 
And    thus    stood    every   thing  re 
dressed. 

For  where  a  king  is  propre  wise 
And  hath  such  as  him  selven  is 
Of  his  counsel,  it  may  nought  faile, 
That  every  thing  ne  shal  availe. 
The  Vices  thanne  gone  awey, 
And  every  Vertu  holt  his  \vey, 
Wherof  the  highd  God  is  plesed 
And  all  the  londes  folke  is  esed. 
For  if  the  comun  people  cry 
And  than  a  king  list  nought  to  ply 
To  here  what  the  clamour  wolde, 
And  other  wisd  than  he  sholde 
Desdaineth  for  to  done  hem  grace, 
It  hath  be  seen  in  many  place, 
There  hath  befalle  great  contraire, 
And  that  I  finde  of  ensamplaire. 


BOOK  VII.— PIOW  A  KING   WAS  TAUGHT.      391 


"After  the  dcth  of  S.ilomone, 
Whan  thilke  wise  king  was  gone 
And  Robots  in  his  persone 
Receive  shulde  the  cor6ne, 
The  people  upon  a  parlement 
Avised  were  of  one  assent 
And  all  unto  the  king  they  preiden 
With  comun  vois  and  thus  they 
saiden : 

*  Our  lege  lord,  we  the  beseche, 
That  thou  receive  our  humble  speche 
And  graunt  us  that  which  reson  will 
Or  of  thy  grace  or  of  thy  skill. 
Thy  fader,  while  he  was  alive 
And  mighte  bothe  graunt  and  privc, 
Upon  the  werkes  which  he  had 
The  comun  people  streite  lad, 
Whan  he  the  temple  made  newe. 
Thing    which    men    never    afore 

knewe 

He  brought  up  than  of  his  talldge, 
And  all  was  under  the  visilge 
Of  werkes  which  he  made'  tho. 
But  now  it  is  befalle  so, 
That  all  is  made  right,  as  he  saide, 
And  he  was  riche  whan  he  deide. 
So  that  it  is  no  maner  nede, 
If  thou  therof  wolt  taken  hede, 
To  pilen  of  the  people  more, 
Which  long  time  hath  be  greved 

sore. 

And  in  this  wise  as  we  the  say, 
With  tender  herte  we  the  prey, 
That  thou  release*  thilke'  dette, 
Which  upon  us  thy  fader  sette. 
And  if  the  like  to  done  so, 
We  ben  thy  men  for  evermo 
To  gone  and  comen  at  thin  heste.' 

"The   King,   which   herde*  this 

requeste, 

Saith,  that  he  wolde'  ben  avised, 
And  hath  therof  a  time  assised, 
And  in  the  while  as  he  him  thought 
Upon  this  thing  counseil  he  sought. 
And  first  the  wise  knighte's  olde, 


To  whom  that  he  his  tale  tolde, 
Counseillen  him  in  this  mane're, 
That  he  with  love  and  with  i;lad 

chere 

Foryive  and  graunt  all  that  is  axed 
Of  that  his  fader  hadde*  taxed. 
For  so  he  may  his  regne  acheve 
With  thing  which  shall  hem  litel 

greve. 
"  The  King  hem  herd  and  over 

passeth 
And  with  these  other  his  wit  com- 

pa"sseth 

That  yonge'  were  and  nothing  wise. 
And  they  these  olde  men  despise 
And  saiden :  'Sir,  it  shall  be  shame 
For  ever  unto  thy  worthy  name, 
If  thou  ne  kepe'  nought  thy  right, 
While  thou  art  in  thy  yongd  might, 
Which  that  thin  olde'  fader  gat. 
But  say  unto  the  people  plat, 
That  while  thou  livest  in  thy  londe, 
The  leste?  finger  of  thin  honde 
It  shall  be  stronger  over  all, 
Than  was  thy  faders  body  all. 
And  thus  also  shall  be  thy  tale, — 
If  he  hem  smote  with  roddes  smale, 
With    scorpions    thou    shalt    hem 

smite. 

And  where  thy  fader  toke  a  lite, 
Thou  thenkest  take*  mochel  more, 
Thusshaltthoumakehemdrede'sore 
The  grete  hert  of  thy  cordge, 
So  for  to  holde  hem  in  servitge.' 
"  This  yong^  king  him  hath  con 
formed 

To  done  as  he  was  last  enformed, 
Which  was  to  him  his  undofng. 
For  whan  it  came  to  the  spekfng. 
He  hath  the  yongd  counseil  holde, 
That  he  the  samd  worde's  tolde 
Of  all  the  people  in  audience. 
And  whan  they  herden  the  sentence 
Of  his  malfce  and  the  manage, 
Anone  to-fore  his  owne*  face 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


They  have  him  oultrely  refused 
And  with  full  great  reprove  accused. 
So  they  beginnd  for  to  rave, 
That  he  was  faine  him  self  to  save. 
For  as  the  wilde  wode  rage 
Of  windes  maketh  the  see  salvage 
And  that  was  calm  bringth  into 

wawe, 

So  for  defalt  and  grace  of  lawe, 
The  people  is  stered  all  at  ones 
And  forth  they  gone  out  of  his  wones, 
So  that  of  the  lignages  twelve, 
Two  tribus  onely  by  hem  selve 
With  him  abiden  and  no  mo. 
So  were*  they  for  evermo 
Of  no  retorne  without  espeire 
Departed  fro  the  rightfull  heire 
Of  Israel  with  comun  vois. 
A  king  upon  her  owne  chois 
Among  hem  self  anone  they  make 
And  have  her  yongd  lord  forsake. 
A  pouer  knight  Jeroboas 
They  toke  and  lefte  Robots, 
Which  rightfull  heire  was  by  de 
scent. 

Lo,  thus  the  yonge  cause  went, 
For  that  the  counseil  was  nought 

good 

The  regne  fro  the  rightfull  blood 
Ever  afterward  devided  was. 
So  may  it  proven  by  this  cas, 
That  yong  counseil,   which  is  to 

warme, 

Or  men  beware,  doth  ofte  harme. 
Old  age  for  the  counseil  serveth, 
And  lusty  youth  his  thank  deserveth 
Upon  the  travail  which  he  doth. 
And  bothe  for  to  say  a  soth 
By  sondry  cause  for  to  have, 
If  that  he  will  his  regne  save, 
A  king  behoveth  every  day, 
That  one  can  and  that  other  may 
Be  so  the  kinge  hem  bothe  reule, 
Or  die's  all  goth  out  of  reule. 
"  And  upon  this  matere  also 


A  question  betwene  the  two 
Thus  writen  in  a  boke  I  fonde, 
Where  l  it  be  better  for  the  londe 
A  King  him  selve  to  be  wise 
And  so  to  bere  his  owne  prise, 
And  that  his  counseil  be  nought 

good; 

Or  otherwise  if  it  so  stood, 
A  King  if  he  be  vicious 
And  his  counseil  be  vertudus  : 
It  is  answerde  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  better  it  is  that  they  be  wise, 
By  whom  that  the  counseil  shall 

gone. 

For  they  be  many,  and  he  is  one, 
And  rather  shall  an  one'  man 
With  fals  counseil,  for  ought  he  can, 
From  his  wisdome  be  made  to  fall, 
Than  he  alone  shuld  hem  all 
Fro  vices  into  vertue  chaunge, 
For  that  is  well  the  more  straunge. 
Forth^  the  lond  may  well  be  glad, 
Whose  king  with  good  counseil  is 

lad, 

Which  set  him  unto  rightwisnesse, 
So  that  his  highe  worthinesse 
Betwene  the  reddour  and  pitd 
Doth  mercy  forth  with  equite. 
A  king  is  holden  over  all 
To  pite',  but  in  speciall 
To  hem,  where  he  is  most  beholde, 
They  shulde  his  pite  most  beholde 
That  ben  the  leges  of  the  londe, 
For  they  ben  ever  under  his  honcle 
After  the  godde's  ordenaiince 
To  stonde  upon  his  governaunce. 

^>f  t f)empevour  Anthonius 
I  find,  how  that  he  saidd  thus  : 
'  Lever  him  were  for  to  save 
One  of  his  leges  than  to  have 
Of  enemies  a  thousand  dede.' 
And  thus  he  lerned  as  I  rede 
Of  Cipio,  which  hadde  be 
Consul  of  Rome.     And  thus  to  se 

1  Where,  whether. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING   WAS  TAUGHT.      393 


Divers  ensamples  how  they  stonde, 
A  King,  which  hath  the  charge  on 

honde 

The  comun  people  to  governe, 
If  that  he  woll,  he  may  well  lerne 
Is  none  so  good  to  the  plesaunce 
Of  God,  as  is  good  governaunce. 
And  every  governaunce  is  due 
To  pitd  ;  thus  I  may  argue 
That  pits'  is  the  foundement 
Of  every  Kinges  regiment. 
If  it  be  medled  with  justice, 
They  two  remeven  alle  Vice 
And  ben  of  Vertue  most  vailable 
To  make  a  Kinges  regne  stable. 

"  Lo,  thus  the  foure  points  to-fore 
In  Governaunce  as  they  ben  bore 
Of  Trouthe  first  and  of  Largesse, 
Of  Pit^  forth  with  Rightwisnesse, 
I  have  hem  tolde.     And  over  this 
The  fifte'  point,  so  as  it  is 
Set  of  the  reule  of  Polic£, 
Wherof  a  king  shall  modefy 
The  fleshly  lustds  of  nalure, 
Now  thenke  I  telle  of  such  mesure, 
That  bothe  kinde  shall  be  served 
And  eke  the  lawe  of  God  observed. 

"It  sit  a  man  by  wey  of  kinde 
To  love*,  but  it  is  nought  kinde 
A  man  for  love  his  wit  to  lese. 
For  if  the  month  of  Juil  shall  frese 
And  that  December  shall  be  hole, 
The  yere  mistorneth  wel  I  wote. 
To  seen  a  man  from  his  estate 
Through  his  soty  effeminate 
And  leve  that  a  man  shall  do, 
It  is  as  hose  above  the  sho 
To  man,  which  ought  nought  to  be 

used. 

But  yet  the  world  hath  oft  accused 
Full  grete'  princes  of  this  dede, 
How  they  for  love  hem  self  mislede, 
Wherof  manhodd  stood  behinde 
Of  olde  ensamples  as  men  finde. 

These  olde  gestes  tellen  thus, 


That  whilom  Sardanapallus, 
Which  held  all  hole  in  his  empire 
The  gret^  kingdom  of  Assfre, 
Was    through    the    slouth    of   his 

corage 

Fall  into  thilke  firy  rage 
Of  love  which  the  men  assoteth, 
Wherof  him  self  he  so  rioteth, 
And  wax  so  ferforth  womanissh, 
That  ayein  kinde,  as  if  a  fissh 
Abide  wold  upon  the  londe, 
In  women  suche  a  luste  he  fonclc, 
That  he  dwelt  ever  in  chambre  still 
And  only  wrought  after  the  will 
Of  women,  so  as  he  was  bede, 
They  taughten  him  a  lace  to  braide 
And  weve  a  purs  and  to  en  file 
A  perle.     And  fell  that  ilke  while, 
One  Arbactus  the  prince  of  Mede 
Sigh  how  this  king  in  womanhede 
Was  falle  fro  chivalerie, 
And  gate  himhelpe  and  compaignie 
And  wroughte  so  that  atte  last 
This  king  out  of  his  regne  he  cast, 
Which  was  undone  for  ever  mo. 
And  yet  men  speken  of  him  so, 
That  it  is  shame  for  to  here ; 
Forthy  to  love  is  in  manere. 
For  where  a  prince  his  luste's  sueth, 
That  he  the  werre'  nought  pursueth, 
Whan  it  is  time  to  bene  armed, 
His  centre'  stant  full  ofte  harmed, 
Whan  thenemies  ben  woxe  bolde, 
That  they  defence'  none  beholde. 
Full  many  a  londe  hath  so  be  lore. 
As  men  may  rede  oft  time  afore 
Of  hem  that  so  her  eses  soughten. 
Which  aftertheyfulldereaboughten. 
^O  moc^ct  esc  is  nothing  worth, 
For  that  set  every  vice  forth 
And  every  vertue  put  a  backe, 
Wherof  pris  torneth  into  lacke, 
As  in  cronique  I  may  reherse, 
Which  telleth,  how  the  king  of  Perse 
That  Cyrus  hight,  a  werre  hadde 


394 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


Ayein  the  people  which  he  dradde 
Of  a  contre  which  Lidos  hight. 
But  yet  for  ought  that  he  do  might 
As  in  bataile  upon  the  werre, 
He  had  of  hem  alway  the  werre.1 
And  whan  he  sigh  and  wist  it  wele, 
That  he  by  strengthe  wan  no  dele, 
Than  atte  last  he  cast  a  wile 
This  worthy  people  to  beguile 
And  toke  with  hem  a  feigned  pees, 
Which  shulde  lasten  endelees, 
So  as  he  saide  in  wordes  wise, 
But  he  thought  all  in  other  wise. 
For  it  betid  upon  the  cas 
Whan  that  this  people  in  reste  was 
They  token  eses  many  folde, 
And  worldes  ese  as  it  is  tolde 
By  way  of  kinde  is  the  norice 
Of  every  lust  which  toucheth  vice. 
Thus  whan  they  were  in  lustes  falle, 
The  werres  ben  forgotten  alle. 
Was  none  which  wolde  the  worship 
Of  armes,  but  in  idelship 
They  putten  besinesse  away 
And  token  hem  to  daunce  and  play, 
And  every  man  doth  what  him  liste. 
But  whan  the  king  of  Perse  it  wiste, 
That  they  unto  folie  entenden, 
With  his  power,    whan  they  lest 

wenden, 

More  sodeinly  than  doth  the  thunder 
He  came  for  ever  and  put  hem  under. 
And  thus  hath  lecherie  lore 
The  londe  which  had  be  to-fore 
The  best  of  hem  that  were  tho. 

"  And  in  the  bible  I  finde  also 
A  tale  lich  unto  this  thing, 
How  Amalech  the  paien  king, 
Whan  that  he  mighte  by  no  wey 
Defend  his  londe  and  put  awey 
The  worthy  people  of  Israel, 
This  Sarazin,  as  it  befell, 
Through  the  counseil  of  Balaam 
A  rout  of  faire*  women  nam, 

1  The  iverre,  the  worse. 


That  lusty  were  and  yonge  of  age, 
And  bad  hem  gon  to  the  lignage 
Of  these  Hebrews.    And  forth  they 

went 

With  eyen  grey  and  browes  bent 
And  well  arraied  everychone. 
And  whan  they  come  were  anone 
Among  thebrews,  was  none  in  sight 
But  cacche  who  that  cacche  might, 
And  grace  anone  began  to  faile, 
That  whan  they  comen  to  bataile, 
Than  afterward  in  sory  plite 
They  were  take  and  discomfite, 
So  that  within  a  litel  throwe, 
The  might  of  hem  was  overthrowe, 
That  whilom  werd  wont  to  stonde, 
Till  Phinees  the  cause  on  honde 
Hath  take  this  vengeaunce  last. 
But  than  it  cesed  atte  last. 
"For  God  was  paid  of  that  he  dede, 
For  where  he  found  upon  a  stede 
A  couple  which  misferde  so 
Throughout  he  smote  hem  bothe  two 
And  let  hem  ligge  in  mennes  eye, 
Wherof  all  other  which  hem  sigh 
Ensampled  hem  upon  the  dede 
And  praiden  unto  the  godhede 
Her  olde*  sinnes  to  amende. 
And  he  which  wold  his  mercy  sende 
Restored  hem  to  newe  grace. 
Thus  may  it  shewe  in  sondry  place 
Of  chastete  how  the  clennesse 
Accordeth  to  the  worthinesse 
Of  men  of  armes  over  all. 
But  most  of  all  in  speciall 
This  vertue  to  a  King  belongeth, 
For  upon  his  fortune  it  hongeth 
Of  that  his  lond  shall  spede  or  spill. 
Forthy"  but  if  a  King  his  will 
Fro  lustes  of  his  flessh  restreigne, 
Ayein  him  self  he  maketh  a  treigne, 
Into  the  whiche  if  that  he  slide, 
Him  werd  better  go  beside. 
For  every  man  may  understonde 
How  for  a  time  that  it  stonde. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      395 


It  is  a  sory  lust  to  like. 
Whose  enck'  maketh  a  man  to  sikc1 
And  torneth  joies  into  sorwe. 
The  brighte  sonne  by  the  morwe- 
Beshineth  nought  the  derke  night; 
The  lusty  youth  of  mannes  might, 
In  age  but  it  stond^  wele, 
Mistorneth  all  the  laste"  whele. 

"That   every  worthy  prince  is 

holde 

Within  him  self  him  self  beholde 
To  se  the  state  of  his  pers6ne 
And  thenke,  how  there  be  joies  none 
Upon  this  erthe'  made  to  last, 
And  how  the  flesshd  shall  at  last 
The  taste's  of  his  life  forsake, 
Him  ought  a  great  cnsample  take 
Of  Salomon,  Ecclesiaste, 
The  fame  of  wliom  shall  ever  laste, 
That  he  the  mighty  God  forsoke, 
Ayein  the  lawe  whan  he  toke 
His  wives  and  his  concubines, 
Of  hem  that  were  Sarazines, 
For  which  he  did  ydolatrie. 
For  this  I  rede  of  his  sot^, 
She  of  Sidoine'  so  him  ladde, 
That  he  knele'nd  his  armes  spradde 
To  Astrathen  with  great  humble'sse, 
Which  of  herlond  was  the  goddesse. 
And  she  that  was  of  Moabite 
So  ferforth  made  him  to  delite 
Through    lust,    which    al    his   wit 

devoureth, 

That  heChamos  her  god  honoureth. 
An  other  Amonite  also 
With  love  him  hath  assoted  so, 
Her  god  Moloch  that  with  encense 
He  sacreth  and  doth  reverence 
In  such  a  wise  as  she  him  bad. 
Thus  was  the  wisest  overlad 
WTith  blind^  taste's  which  he  sought. 
But  he  it  afterward  abought. 

"  For  Achirts  Selonite's, 

1  Sikc,  sigh. 

2  The  bright  morning  sun. 


!  Which  was  prophet,  er  his  deces, 
While  he  was  in  his  lustes  alle, 
Betokeneth  what  shall  after  falle. 
For  on  a  day,  whan  that  he  mette 
Jero*boam,  the  knight  he  grette  l 
And  bad  him  that  he  shulde  abide 
To  here  what  him  shall  betide. 
And  forth  withall  Achias  cast 
His  mantel  of,  and  al  so  fast 
He  kut  it  into  pieces  twelve, 
Wherof  two  parts  toward  him  selve 
He  kept,  and  all  the  remenaunt, 
As  God  hath  set  his  covenaunt, 
He  toke  unto  Jerdboa's 
Of  Nabal  which  the  sone  was 
And  of  the  kingds  court  a  knight. 
And  said  him,   '  Such  is  Godde's 

might, 

As  thou  hast  sene  departed  2  here 
My  mantel,  right  in  such  manere 
After  the  deth  of  Salomon 
God  hath  ordeindd  therupon, 
This  regne'  than  he  shall  devide, 
Which  timd  thou  shalt  eke  abide, 
And  upon  that  divisidn 
The  regne,  as  in  proporcidn 
As  thou  hast  of  my  mantel  take, 
Thou  shalt  receive  I  undertake.' 
O,  which  a  sinne  violent, 
Wherof  so  wise  a  king  was  shent, 
That  he  vengeaunce  of  his  persone 
Was  nought  inough  to  take  alone, 
But  afterward,  whan  he  was  passed, 
It  hath  his  heritage'  lassed, 
As  I  more  openly  to-fore 
The  tald  tolde  ;  and  thus  therfore 
The  philosophre  upon  this  thing 
Writ  and  counselled  to  a  king, 
That  he  the  forfete  of  luxure 
Shall   tempre   and  reule    of   such 

mesure 

Which  be  to  kinde*  suffisaunt 
And  eke  to  reson  accordaiint, 
So  that  the  lustes  ignoraunce 

1  Grette,  greeted.  2  Departed,  divided. 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Be  cause  of  no  misgovernaunce, 
Through  which   that  he  be  over- 

throwe 

As  he  that  woll  no  reson  knowe. 
"  For  of  Antonie  thus  I  rede, 
Which  of  Severus  was  the  sone, 
That  he  his  life  of  comun  wone 
Yaf  holy  unto  thilke  vice, 
And  ofte  time  he  was  so  nice, 
Wherof  nature  her  hath  compleigned 
Unto    the  God,  which  hath   des- 

deigned 

The  werkes  which  Antonie  wrought 
Of  lust  which  he  full  sore  abought; 
For  God  his  forfete  hath  so  wroke, 
That  in  cronique  it  is  yet  spoke. 
But  for  to  take  rdmembraunce 
Of  speciall  misgovernaunce 
Through  covetise  and  injustice 
Forth  with  the  remenaunt  of  vice, 
I  finde  a  tale,  as  thou  shalt  here, 
Which  is  thensample  of  this  matere. 

$0  a$  tfye&e  olb<£  gestes  sain, 
The  proude  tirannish  Remain 
Tarquinius,  which  was  than  king 
And   wrought    many    a    wrongful 

thing, 

Of  sones  he  had  many  one, 
Among  the  which  Arrons  was  one 
Lich  to  his  fader  in  maneres, 
So  that  within  a  fewe  yeres 
With  treson  and  with  tiranny 
They  wonne  of  londe  a  great  party 
And  token  hede  of  no  justice, 
Which  due  was  to  her  office 
Upon  the  reule  of  governaunce. 
But  al  that  ever  was  plesaunce 
Unto  the  flesshes  lust  they  toke. 
And  fell  so,  that  they  undertoke 
A  wen-d,  which  was  nought  acheved, 
But  often  time  it  had  hem  greved, 
Ayein  a  folk  which  thanne'  hight 
The  Gabiens,  and  all  by  night 
Thus  Arrons  whan  he  was  at  home 
In  Rome  a  prive  place  he  nome 


Within  a  chambre  and  bete  him 

selve 
And  made   him  woundes  ten    or 

twelve 

Upon  the  backe,  as  it  was  sene. 
And  so  forth  with  his  hurtes  grene 
In  all  the  haste  that  he  may 
He  rode  and  cam  that  other  day 
Unto  Gabie  the  citee 
And  in  he  went.     And  whan  that  he 
Was  knowe,  anone  the  gate's  shette, 
The  lordes  all  upon  him  sette 
With  drawe  swerdes  upon  honde. 
And   Arrons  wolde    hem    nought 

withstonde, 
And  saide :    '  I  am  here  at  your 

wille, 

As  lefe  it  is  that  ye  me  spille, 
As  if  min  owne  fader  dede.' 
And  forth  within  the  same  stede 
He  praide  hem  that  they  wolde  se  ; 
And  shewed  hem  in  what  degre 
His  fader  and  his  brethren  bothe, 
Which  as  he  saide  weren  wrothe, 
Him  hadde  beten  and  reviled 
And  out  of  Rome  for  ever  exiled. 
And  thus  he  made  hem  to  beleve 
And  saide,  if  that  he  might  acheve 
His  purpos,  it  shall  well  be  yolde 
Be  so  that  they  him  helpe  wolde. 
Whan  that  the  lordes  hadde  sene, 
How  wofully  he  was  besene, 
They  toke  pite  of  his  greve. 
But  yet  it  was  hem  wonder  leve 
That  Rome  him  had  exiled  so. 
The  Gabiens  by  counseil  tho 
Upon  the  goddes  made  him  swere. 
That  he  to  hem  shall  trouthe  bere 
And  strengthen  hem  with  all  his 

might. 

And  they  also  him  hath  benight 
To  helpe  him  in  his  quareUe. 
They  shope  thanne  for  his  hele 
That  he  was  bathed  and  anoint 
Till  that  he  was  in  lusty  point, 


BOOK  VI I. —HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      397 


And  what  he  wolde  than  he  had, 
That  he  all  hole  the  cite  lad 
Right  as  he  wolde  him  self  devise. 
And  than  he  thought  him  in  what 

wise 

He  might  his  tirannie  shewe, 
And  to  his  counseil  toke  a  shrewe  l 
Whom  to  his  fader  forth  he  sent. 
In  his  messdge  and  he  tho  went 
And  praied  his  fader  for  to  say 
By  his  avise  and  finde  a  wey 
How  they  the  cite  mighten  winne 
While  that  he  stood  so  well  therinne. 
And  whan  the  messager  was  come 
To  Rome  and  hath  in  counseil  nome 
The  king,  it  fell  perchaunce  so 
That  they  were  in  a  gardin  tho, 
This  messager  forth  with  the  king. 
And  whan  he  hadde  told  the  thing 
In  what  manere  that  it  stode, 
And  that  Tarqumus  understode 
By  the  messdge  how  that  it  ferde, 
Anone  he  toke  in  honde  a  yerde, 
And  in  the  gardin  as  they  gone 
The  lilie  croppes  one  and  one 
Where  that  they  weren  sprongen 

out 

He  smote  of  as  they  stood  about, 
And  said  unto  the  messagere  : 
'  Lo,  this  thing  which  I  do  now  here 
Shall  be  in  stede  of  thin  answdre. 
And  in  this  wise  as  I  me  bere, 
Thou  shake  unto  my  sone  telle.' 
And  he  no  lenger  wolde  dwelle, 
But  toke  his  leve  and  goth  withall 
Unto  his  lorde  and  tolde  him  all, 
How  that  his  fader  haddd  do. 
Whan  Arrons  herde  him  telle  so, 
Anone  he  wiste"  what  it  ment, 
And  therto  sette  all  his  entent 
Till  he  through  fraude  and  trechery 
The  princes  hevede's  of  Gaby 
Hath  smiten  of  and  all  was  wonne. 
His  fader  cam  to-fore  the  sonne 

1  Shreive,  plotter  of  evil. 


Into  the  town  with  the  Remains 
And  toke  and  slew  the  citezeins 
Withoute*  reson  or  pite, 
That  he  ne  spareth  no  degre. 
And  for  the  spede  of  this  conquest 
He  let  do  make  a  riche'  fest 
With  a  solempne  sacrifice 
In  Phebus  temple,  and  in  this  wise, 
Whan  the  Romains  assembled  were 
In  presence  of  hem  alle  there, 
Upon  thalte'r  whan  all  was  dight 
And  that  the  fires  were  alight, 
From  under  thalter  sodeinly 
An  hidous  serpent  openly 
Cam  out  and  hath  devoured  all 
The  sacrifice,  and  eke  withall 
The  fire's  queint,  and  forth  anone, 
So  as  he  cam  so  is  he  gone 
Into  the  depd  ground  ayein. 
And  every  man  began  to  sain, 
'  Ha  lord,  what  may  this  signify  ?' 
And  therupon  they  pray  and  cry 
To  Phebus,  that  they  mighten  knowe 
The  cause.    And  he  the  samethrowe 
With  gastly  vois,  that  alt  it  herde, 
The  Romains  in  this  wise  answerde 
And  said,  how  for  the  wickednesse 
Of  pride  and  of  unrightwisnesse 
That  Tarquin  and  his  sone  hath  do 
The  sacrifice  is  wasted  so, 
Which  mighte"  nought  ben  accept- 

able 

Upon  such  sinne  abhomindble. 
And  over  that  yet  he  hem  wisseth 
And  saith,  that  which  of  hem  first 

kisseth 

His  moder,  he  shall  take  wreche 
Upon   the  wronge.     And  of  that 

speche 

They  ben  within  her  herte's  glade, 
Though  they  outward  no  semblaunt 

made. 
There  was  a  knight,  which  Brutus 

hight, 
And  he  with  all  the  haste  he  might 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


To  groundc  fell  and  there  he  kiste, 
But  none  of  hem  the  cause  wiste, 
But  wenden  that  he  hadde  sporned 
Perchaunce  and  so  was  overtorned. 
But  Brutus  all  an  other  ment, 
For  he  knew  well  in  his  entent, 
How  therthe  of  every  mannes  kinde 
Is  moder.      But  they  weren  blinde 
And  sighen  nought  so  fer  as  he. 
But  whan  they  leften  the  citee 
And  comen  home  to  Rome  ayein, 
Than  every  man,  which  was  Remain 
And  moder  hath,  to  her  he  bencle 
And kist,  and  echeof  hem  thus  wende 
To  be  the  first  upon  the  chaunce 
Of  Tarquin  for  to  do  vengeaiince, 
So  as  they  herden  Phebus  sain. 
But  every  time  hath  his  certain, 
So  must  it  necles  than  abide, 
Till  afterward  upon  a  tide 
Tarquinius  made  unskilfully 
A  werre,  which  was  faste  by, 
Ayein  a  town  with  walles  stronge, 
Which  ArdeA  was  cleped  longe, 
And  cast  a  siege  there  about 
That  there  may  no  man  passen  out. 
So  it  befell  upon  a  night 
Arrons,  which  had  his  souper  dight, 
A  parte  of  the  chivalerie 
With  him  to  suppe  in  compaignie 
Hath  bede.     And  whan  they  comen 

were 

And  setten  at  the  suppe  there, 
Among  her  other  wordes  glade 
Arrons  a  great  spekinge  made, — 
Who  hadde  tho  the  beste  wife 
Of  Rome  ?    And  thus  began  a  strife, 
For  Arrons  saith  he  hath  the  best. 
So  janglen  they  withouten  reste, 
Till  atte  last  one  Collatine, 
A  worthy  knight  and  was  cousine 
To  Arrons,  said  him  in  this  wise  : 
'It  is,'  quod  he,  'of  none  emprise 
To  speke  a  word,  but  of  the  dede 
Wherof  it  is  to  taken  hede. 


Anone  forth y  this  same  tide 
Lepe  on  thy  hors  and  let  us  ride, 
So  may  we  knowe  bothe  two 
Unwarely  what  our  wives  do, 
And  that  shall  be  a  trewe  assay.' 
"  This  Arrons  saith  nought  one's 

nay. 

On  horseback  anone  they  lepte 
In  such  manere  and  nothing  slepte 
Ridende  forth  till  that  they  come 
All  privelich  withinnd  Rome, 
In  strange  placeand  down  theylight 
And  take  a  chambre  out  of  sight. 
They  be  desguised  for  a  throwe, 
So  that  no  life  l  hem  shulde  knowe; 
And  to  the  paleis  first  they  sought 
To    se    what    thing   these    ladies 

wrought, 
Of  whiche  Arrons   had  made  his 

vaunt. 

And  they  her  sigh  of  glad  semblaunt 
All  full  of  merthes  and  of  bordes.'w> 
But  among  all  her  other  wordes 
She  spake  nought  of  her  husebonde. 
And  whan  they  had  all  understor.de 
Of  thilke  place  what  hem  list, 
They  gone  hem  forth  that  ncnc  it 

wist 

Beside  thilke  gate  of  bras, 
Collacea  which  cleped  was, 
Where  Collatin  hath  his  dwelling. 
There  founden  they  at  home  sitting 
Lucrece  his  wife  all  environed 
With  women  which  were  abandoned 
To  werche,  and  she  wrought  eke 

withall 
And  bad  hem  haste  and  said  :   'It 

shall 

Be  for  min  husebondes  were, 
Which  with  his  swerd  and  with  his 

spere 

Lith  at  siege  in  great  disese, 
And  if  it  shulde  him  nought  displesc, 
Now  wolde  God,  I  had  him  here. 

1  No  life,  no  body.  -  Bordes,  jests. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING    IV AS  TAUGHT. 


For  certes  till  that  I  may  here 
Some  good  tiding  of  his  estate, 
My  hertc  is  ever  upon  debate. 
For  so  as  alle  men  witnesse, 
He  is  of  such  an  hardiesse, 
That  he  can  nought  him  selve  spare, 
And  that  is  all  my  moste  care 
Whan  they  the  walle's  shuldeassaile. 
But  if  my  wisshes  might  availe, 
I  wolde  it  were  a  groundles  pit 
Be  so  the  siege  were  unknit, 
And  I  my  husebonde  sigh.' 
With  that  the  water  in  her  eye 
Arose,  that  she  ne  might  it  stoppe, 
And  as  men  sene  the  dew  bedroppe 
The  leves  and  the  floures  eke, 
Right  so  upon  her  white  cheke 
The  wofull  sake  teres  felle. 

"  Whan  Collatin  hath  herde  her 

telle 

The  mening  of  her  trewe  herte, 
Anone  with  that  to  her  he  sterte 
And  saidd  :  '  Lo,  my  goode  deiv, 
Now  is  he  come  to  you  here 
That  ye  most  loven  as  ye  sain. 
And  she  with  goodly  chere  ayein 
Beclipt  him  in  her  armes  smale. 
And  the  coloiir  which  erst  was  pale 
To  beaute  thanne  was  restored 
So  that  it  mightc*  nought  be  mored. 
The  kinges  sone,  which  was  nigh, 
And  of  this  lady  herde  and  sigh 
The  thinges  as  they  ben  befalle, 
The  reson  of  his  wittes  alle 
Hath  lost,  for  love  upon  his  parte 
Cam  than  and  of  his  firy  darte 
With    such   a  wounde   him    hath 

through  smite, 

That  he  must  nedcs  fele  and  wite 
Of  thilke  blinde  malady, 
To  which  no  cure  of  surgery 
Can  helpd.     But  yet  nethe'les 
At  thilke  time  he  helde  his  pees 
That  he  no  countenaunce  made 
But  openly  with  wordes  glade, 


So  as  he  couthe  in  his  mancre, 
He  spake  and  made  frendely  chere 
Till  it  was  time  for  to  go. 
And  Collatin  with  him  also 
His  leve  toke,  so  that  by  night, 
With  all  the  haste  that  they  might, 
They  riden  to  the  siege  ayein. 
But  Arrons  was  so  wo  besein 
With  thoughtds  which    upon  him 

runne 

That  he  all  by  the  brode  sunnc 
To  bedde  goth  nought  for  to  restc, 
But  for  to  thenke  upon  the  bestc 
And  the  faireste  forth  with  alle, 
That  ever  he  sigh  or  ever  shallc, 
So  as  him  thought  in  his  corage 
Where  he  portreieth  her  ymage. 
First  the  fetiires  of  her  face, 
In  which  nature  had  alle  grace 
Of  womanly  beaute  beset 
So  that  it  mighte  nought  be  bet. 
And  how  her  yelwe  hair  was  tressed 
And  her  attire  so  wel  adressed. 
And  how  she  spake,  and  ho\\-  she 

wrought, 
And  how  she  wepte,  and  how  she 

thought, 

That  he  foryeten  hath  no  dele 
liut  all  it  liketh  him  so  wcle 
That  in  the  worclc  nor  in  dede 
He  lackdd  nought  of  womanhede. 
"And  thus  this  tirannisshe  knight 
Was    soupled,    but     nought    half 

aright, 

For  he  none  other  hede  toke, 
But  that  he  might  by  somme  croke, 
All  though  it  were  ayein  her  willc, 
The  lustes  of  his  flessh  fulfille, 
Which  love  was  nought  resonable  ; 
For  wher  honour  is  remevdble, 
It  oughte*  well  to  ben  avised. 
But  he,  which  hath  his  lust  assised 
With  melled l  love  and  tirannie, 
Hath  found  upon  his  trecherie 

1  MclicJ,  mingled. 


400 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


A  wey  the  which  he  thenketh   to 

holde, 

And  saith,  « Fortune  unto  the  bolde 
Is  favorable  for  to  helpe.; 
And  thus  within  him  self  to  yelpe, 
As  he  which  was  a  wilde  man 
Upon  his  treson  he  began. 
And  up  he  sterte,  and  forth  he  weme 
On  horsebacke,  but  his  entente 
There  knew  no  wight,  and  thus  he 

name 

The  nexte  waie,  till  he  came 
Unto  Collacea  the  gate 
Of  Rome,  and  it  was  somdele  late 
Right  even  upon  the  sonne  sette. 
And  he  which  hadd£  shape  his  nette 
Her  innocence  to  betrappe, 
And  as  it  shulde  tho  mishappe, 
As  privelich  as  ever  he  might 
He  rode  and  of  his  hors  alight 
To-fore  Collatings  inn 
And  all  frendelich  goth  him  in, 
As  he  that  was  cousin  of  house. 
And  she  which  is  the  goode  spouse, 
Lucrece,  whan  that  she  him  sigh, 
With  goodly  cherd  drewe  him  nigh 
As  she  which  all  honour  supposeth 
And  him  so  as  she  dare  opposeth 
How  it  stood  of  her  husebonde. 
And  he  tho  did  her  understonde 
With  tales  feigned  in  this  wise 
Right  as  he  wolde  him  self  devise 
Wherof  he  might  her  hert6  glade, 
That  she  the  better  cher£  made. 
Whan  she  the  gladde  worde*s  herde 
How  that  her  housebondd  ferde. 
And  thus  the  trouthe'  was  deceived 
With  slie  tres6n  which  was  received 
To  hird  which  mente  alle  good. 
For  as  the  festes  thanne  stood, 
His  souper  was  right  wel  arraied, 
But  yet  he  hath  no  word  assaied 
To  speke  of  love  in  no  degre. 
But  with  covdrt  subtilitd 
His  frendly  speches  he  affaiteth, 


And,  as  the  tigre,  his  time  awaiteth 
In  hope  for  to  cacche  his  pray. 

"  Whan  that  the  bordes  were  awey 
And  they  have  souped  in  the  halle, 
He  saith  that  slepe  is  on  him  falle, 
And  praith,  he  mote  go  to  bedde. 
And  she  with  alle  haste  spedde 
So  as  her  thought  it  was  to  done, 
That  every  thing  was  redy  sone. 
She  brought  him  to  his  chambre  tho 
And  toke  her  leve,  and  forth  is  go 
Into  her  owne"  chambre  by. 
And  she  that  wende  certainly 
Have  had  a  frend  then  had  a  fo, 
Wherof  fell  after  mochel  wo. 

"This  tiraunt  though  he  lie  softe 
Out  of  his  bedde  aros  full  ofte 
And  goth  about  and  laid  his  ere 
To  herken  till  that  alle  were 
To  bedde  gone  and  slepten  faste. 
And  than  upon  him  self  he  caste 
A  mantel  and  his  swerde  all  naked 
He  toke  in  honde,  and  she  unwaked 
A  bedde  lay.     But  what  she  mette,1 
God  wot,  for  he  the  dore  unshette 
So  prively  that  none  it  herde, 
The  softe  pas  and  forth  he  ferde 
Into  the  bed  where  that  she  slepte, 
All  sodeinly  and  in  he  crepte. 
And  her  in  bothe  his  armes  toke. 
With  that  this  worthy  wife  awoke, 
Which  through  tendresseof  woman- 
bed 

Her  vois  hath  lost  for  pure  drede, 
That  o  word  speke  she  ne  dare. 
And  eke  he  bad  her  to  beware, 
For  if  she  made"  noise  or  cry, 
He  said,  his  swerd  lay  faste"  by 
To  sleen  her  and  her  folke  about. 
And  thus  he  brought  her  herte  in 

doubt, 

That  lich  a  lamb  whan  it  is  sesed 
In  wolves  mouth,  so  was  disesed 
Lucrecd,  who  lay  dede  oppressed. 

1  Jfctte,  dreamed. 


7?OO/v    VIL—HOW  A  KING    ]\'AS  TAUGHT.      401 


And  he,  which  all  him  hndcle  acl- 

ressed 

To  lust,  toke  thanne  what  him  liste 
And  goth  his  wey,  that  none  it  wiste, 
Into  his  owne  chambre  ayein 
And  clepdd  up  his  chamberlein 
To  horse*  lept  and  forth  he  rode. 
And  she,  which  in  her  bed  abode, 
Whan  that  she  wist  he  was  agone, 
She  cleped  after  light  anone 
And  up  aros  long  er  the  day 
And  cast  awey  her  fressh  array, 
As  she  which  hath  the  worldforsake, 
And  toke  upon  the  clothes  blacke. 
And  ever  upon  continuing, 
Right  as  men  se  a  welle  spring, 
With  eyen  full  of  wofull  teres 
Her  hair  hangend  about  her  eres 
She  wepte,  and  no  man  wiste  why. 
But  yet  among  full  pitously 
She praie'd  that  they  nolden drecche l 
Her  huse'bonde"  for  to  fecche 
Forthwith  her  fader  eke  also. 
Thus  be  they  comen  bothe  two, 
And  Brutus  cam  with  Collatine, 
Which  to  Lucrece  was  cousi'ne, 
And  in  they  wenten  alle"  thre 
To  chambre,  where  they  mighte"  se 
The  wofullest  upon  this  molde, 
Which  wepte  as  she  to  water  sholde. 
The  chambre  dore  anone  was  stoke,2 
Er  they  have  ought  unto  her  spoke. 
They  sigh  her  clothes  all  disguised, 
And  how  she  hath  her  self  despised 
Her  haire  hange'nd  unkemt  about. 
But  nethe*les  she  gan  to  lout 
And  knele  unto  her  huse'bonde. 
And  he,  which  fain  wold  understonde 
The  cause*  why  she  fare"d  so, 
With  softe*  wordes  axe*d  tho  : 
*  What  may  you  be,3  mygode"swete?' 
And  she,  which  thought  her  self 

unmete 

1  Drecche,  delay.  -  Stoke,  barred. 

*  What  may  be  to  you  ?   How  is  it  with  you  ? 


And  the  le^t  worth  of  women  alu*, 
Her  woful  chere  let  down  falle 
For  shame  and  couthe  unnethe*s  l 

loke, 

And  they  therof  good  hede  toke 
And  praiden  her  in  alle  way, 
That  she  ne  spare"  for  to  say 
Unto  her  frendds  what  her  eileth, 
Why  she  so  sore  her  self  bewaileth, 
And  what  the  sothe*  wolde*  mene. 
Andshe,  which  hath  her  sorwe  grene, 
Her  wo  to  telld  thanne  assaieth, 
But  tendre  shame  her  word  delaieth, 
That  sondry  time's  as  she  mente 
To  speke  upon  the  point  she  stentc. 
And  they  her  beden  ever  in  one 
To  telle  forth,  and  there  upon, 
Whan  that  she  sigh  she  muste  nede, 
Her  tale  betwene  shame  and  drede 
She  tolde,  nought  withoute  peine. 
And  he,  which  wolde  her  wo  rc- 

streigne, 

Her  huse'bond,  a  sory  man, 
Comforteth  her  all  that  he  can 
And  swore,  and  eke  her  fader  both, 
That  they  with  hire  be  nought  wroth 
Of  that  is  do  ayein  her  wille, 
And  praie'den  her  to  be  stille, 
For  they  to  her  have  all  foryive. 
But  she,  which  thoughte*  nought  to 

live, 

Of  hem  woll  no  foryive*nesse 
And  said,  of  thilke  wickednesse, 
Which  was  to  hire  body  wrought, 
All  were  it  so  she  might  it  nought, 
Never  afterward  the  world  ne  shall 
Reproven  her,  and  forthwithall, 
Er  any  man  therof  be  ware, 
A  naked  swerd,  the  which  she  bare 
Within  her  mantel  prively, 
Betwene  her  honde*s  sodeinly 
She  toke,  and  through  her  hert  it 

throng, 
And  fell  to  ground,  and  ever  among, 

1  UttHtthSs,  hardly  (not  easily). 

2  C 


402 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


Whan  that  she  fell,  so  as  she  might, 
Her  clothes  with  her  bond  she  right, 
That  no  man  downward  fro  theknee 
Shuld  any  thinge  of  her  then  se. 
Thus  lay  this  wife  honestelv, 
All  though  she  diecle  wofully. 
Tho  was  no  sonve  for  to  seke, 
Her  husbonde  and  her  fader  eke 
A  swoune  upon  the  body  felle. 
There  may  no  mannes  tunge  telle, 
In  which  anguishe  that  they  were. 
But  Brutus,  which  was  with  hem 

there, 

Toward  him  self  his  herte  kept 
And  to  Lucrece  anone  he  lept, 
The  bloody  swerde  and  pulleth  out 
And  swore  the  goddes  al  about 
That  he  therof  shall  do  vengeaunce. 
And  she  tho  made  a  countenaiince 
Her  dedly  eye  and  atte  laste 
In  thonking  as  it  were  up  cast, 
And  so  behelde  him  in  the  wise 
While  she  to  loke  may  suffise. 
And  Brutus  with  a  manly  herte 
Her  husebonde  hath  made  up  sterte 
Forth  with  her  fader  eke  also 
In  alle  haste  and  said  hem  tho, 
That  they  anone  withoute  lette 
A  bere  for  the  body  fette. 
Lucrece  and  therupon  bledend 
He  laide  and  so  forth  out  criend 
He  goth  unto  the  market  place 
Of  Rome.     And  in  a  litel  space 
Through  cry  the  cite  was  assembled, 
And  every  mannes  herte  trembled 
Whan  they  the  soth  herde  of  the  cas. 
And  thereupon  the  counseil  was 
Take  of  the  great  and  of  the  smale. 
And  Brutus  tolde  hem  all  the  tale. 
And  thus  cam  into  remembraiince 
Of  sinne  the  continuaunce 
Which  Arrons  hadde  do  to-fore, 
And  eke  long  time  er  he  was  bore 
Of  that  his  fader  hadde*  do,  . 
The  wrong  came  into  plac£  tho, 


So  that  the  comun  clamour  tolde 
The  newe  shame  of  sinnes  olde. 
And  all  the  town  began  to  cry  : 
'  Awey,  awey  the  tiranny 
Of  lechery  and  covetise  ! ' 
And  atte  last  in  such  a  wise 
The  fader  in  the  same'  while 
Forth  with  the  sone  they  exile 
And  taken  better  governaunce. 

"But  yet  an  other  remembraiince 
That  rightwisnesse  and  lechery 
Accorden  nought  in  compaigny 
With  him  that  hath  the  lawe  on 

honde. 

That  may  a  man  well  understonde. 
As  by  a  tale  thou  shalt  wite 
Of  olde  ensample  as  it  is  write.     • 
"  Jit  ^Iom6  whan  that  Appius, 
Whose  other  name  was  Claudiu?, 
Was  governour  of  the  citee, 
There  fell  a  wonder  thing  to  se 
Touchend  a  gentil  maide,  as  thus, 
Whom  Livius  Virginius 
Begeten  had  upon  his  wife. 
Men  saiden,  that  so  faire  a  life 
As  she  was  nought  in  all  the  town. 
This    fame,    which    goth    up   and 

down, 

To  Claudius  came  in  his  ere, 
Wherofhisthought  anone  was  there, 
But  she  stood  upon  manage. 
A  worthy  knight  of  great  lignage, 
Ilicius  which  thanne  hight, 
Accorded  in  her  faders  sight 
Was  that  he  shulde  his  doughter 

wedde. 

"But  er  the  cause  were  fully  speddc, 
Her  fader,  which  in  Romanic 
The  leding  of  the  chivalrie 
In  governaunce  hath  undertake, 
Upon  a  werre  which  was  take, 
Goth  out  with  all  the  strength  he 

hadde 

Of  men  of  armes  which  he  ladde. 
So  was  the  marine  left 


BOOK  VI I. —HOW  A  KING  WAS  TAUGHT.      403 


And  stood  upon  accord  till  eft. 

"  The  Kins,  which  herde  tclle  of 

this, 

How  that  this  maide  ordeined  is 
To  mariilge*,  thought  another, 
And  hadde*  thilke'  time  a  brother, 
Which  Marchus  Claudius  was  hotc, 
And  was  a  man  of  such  riote 
Right  as  the  King  him  selve*  was  ; 
They  two  to-gider  upon  this  cas 
In  counseil  founden  out  the  wey, 
That  Marchus  Claudius  shall  sey 
How  she  by  wey  of  covenaunt 
To  his  servfce  apurtenaunt 
Was  hole,  and  to  none  other  man. 
And  there  upon  he  saith  he  can 
In  every  point  witne'sse'  take, 
So  that  she  shall  it  nought  forsake.1 
Whan  that  they  hadden  shape*  so 
After  the  lawe*  which  .was  tho, 
While  that  her  fader  was  absent, 
She  was  somone'd  and  assdnt 2 
To  come  in  presence  of  the  King, 
And  stood  in  answere  of  this  thing. 
Her  frende's  wisten  alle  wele 
That  it  was  falshede  every  dele, 
And  comcn  to  the  Kinge  and  saiden 
Upon  the  comun  lawe  and  praiden 
So  as  this  noble  worthy  knight, 
Her  fader,  for  the  comun  right 
In  thilke*  time,  as  was  befalle, 
Lay  for  the  profit  of  hem  alle 
Upon  the  wilde'  feldes  armed, 
That   he   ne    shulde   nought    ben 

harmed 

Ne  shame'd  while  that  he  were  out. 
And  thus  they  praiden  all  about. 

"Foralltheclamourthathe  herde 
The  King  upon  his  lust  answerde 
And  yaf  hem  only  dale's  two 
Of  respit.      For  he  wende*  tho, 
That  in  so  short  a  time  appeie 
Her  fader  might  in  no  manere. 
But  as  therof  he  was  deceived. 


Forsake,  deny. 


-  Assfnt,  sent  for. 


For  Livitts  had  all  conceived 
The  purpos  of  the  King  to-fore, 
So  that  to  Rome  ayein  therfore 
In  alle"  hast  he  came  ride'nd 
And  left  upon  the  feld  liggend 
His  host  till  that  he  came  ayein. 
And  thus  this  worthy  capitain 
Appereth  redy  at  his  day, 
Where  all  that  ever  reson  may 
By  lawe  in  audience  he  doth, 
So  that  his  doughter  upon  soth 
Of  that  Marchus  her  had  accused 
He  hath  to-fore  the  Court  excused. 
"The  King,  which  sigh  his  pur 
pos  faile, 

And  that  no  sleighte  might  availe, 
Incombred  of  his  lustes  blinde 
The  lawe*  torneth  out  of  kinde, 
And  halfe  in  wrath  as  though  it  were 
In  presence  of  hem  alle*  there 
Deceived  of  concupiscence 
Yaf  for  his  brother  the  sentence 
And  bad  him  that  he  shulde'  sese 
This  maide  and  make  him  well  at 

ese. 

But  all  within  his  own  entent 
He  wist  how  that  the  cause*  went, 
Of  that  his  brother  hath  the  wite 
He  was  him.  selven  for  to  wite.1 
But  thus  this  maiden  haddd  wronge 
Which  was  upon  the  King  alonge, 
But  ayein  him  was  none  apele, 
And  that  the  fader  wiste  welc. 
Wherof  upon  the  tirannie, 
That  for  the  lust  of  lecherie 
His  doughter  shulde*  be  deceived, 
And  that  Ilicius  was  weived 
Untruly  fro  the  manage, 
Right  as  a  Icon  in  his  rage, 
Which  of  no  drede  set  accompt 
And  not  what  pite*  shulde  amount, 
A  naked  swerde  he  pulle*d  out, 
The  which  among^s  all  the  rout 

1  Of  that  for  which  his  brother  had  the  blame 
lie  was  himself  to  be  held  guilty. 


4°4 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


He  threste  through  his  doughters 

side, 

And  all  aloude  thus  he  cride : 
'  Lo,  take  her  there  thou  wrongfull 

king, 

For  me  is  lever  upon  this  thing 
To  be  the  fader  of  a  maide, 
Though  she  be  dede,  than  if  men 

saide 

That  in  her  life  she  were  shamed 
And  I  therof  were  evil  named.' 
Tho  bad  the  king  men  shulde  areste 
His  body,  but  of  thilke  heste 
Like  to  the  chaced  wilde  bore 
The  hounde's  whan  he  feleth  sore 
To-throweth  and  goth  forth  his  wey, 
In  such  a  wisd  for  to  sey 
This  worthy  knight  with  swerd  in 

honde 

His  weiemade,  andthey  him  wonde,1 
That  none  of  hem  his  strokes  kepte, 
And  thus  upon  his  hors  he  lepte 
And  with  his  swerd  droppend  of 

blood, 

The  which  within  his  doughter  stood, 
He  cam  thereas  the  power  was 
Of  Rome  and  tolde  hem  all  the  cas 
And  said  hem,  that  theymightenlere 
Upon  the  wronge  of  this  matere, 
That  better  it  were"  to  redresse 
At  home  the  great  unrightwisnesse, 
Than  for  to  werre  in  straunge  place 
And  lese  at  home  her  ownd  grace. 
For  thus  stant  every  mannes  life 
In  jeopartie  for  his  wife 
And  for  his  doughter  if  they  be 
Passend  an  other  of  beaute. 
Of  this  merveile'  which  they  sigh 
So  apparaunt  to-fore  her  eye, 
Of  that  the  king  him  hath  misbore, 
Her  othes  they  have  alle  swore 
That  they  woll  stonde.  by  the  right. 
And  thus  of  one  accorde  upright 
To  Rome  at  ones  home  ayein 

1  Wonde,  fear. 


They  tome  and  shortly  for  to  sain 
This  tirannie  cam  to  mouth, 
And  every  man  saith  what  he  couth, 
So  that  the  prive  trechery, 
Which  set  was  upon  lechery, 
Cam  openly  to  mannes  ere, 
And  that  brought  in  the  comun  fere, 
That  every  man  the  perill  dradde 
Of  him  that  so  hem  overladde. 
For  they,  or  that l  it  worse  falle, 
Through  comun  counseil  of  hem  alle 
They  have  her  wrongful  King  de 
posed, 

And  hem  in  whom  it  was  supposed 
The  counseil  stood  of  his  leding, 
By  lawe  unto  the  dome  they  bring, 
Where  they  receiven  the  penaiince 
That  longeth  to  such  governaunce. 
And  thus  thunchaste  was  chastised ; 
Wherof  they  mighten  ben  avised 
That  sholden  afterward  governe, 
And  by  this  evidence  lerne 
How  it  is  good  a  Kinge  eschue 
The  lust  of  vice  and  vertue  sue. 

^0  tttct&e  an  cube  in  this  partie, 
Which  toucheth  to  the  policie 
Of  chastete  in  speciall, 
As  for  conclusion  finall 
That  every  lust  is  to  eschue 
By  great  ensample  I  may  argue, 
Howe  in  Rages  a  town  of  Mede 
There  was  a  maide,  and  as  I  rede, 
Sarra  she  hight,  and  Raguel 
Her  fader  was.     And  so  befell 
Of  body  bothe  and  of  visage 
Was  none  so  faire  of  the  ligndge 
To  seche  among  hem  all,  as  she, 
Wherof  the  riche  of  the  citee 
Of  lusty  folk,  that  couthen  love, 
Assoted  were  upon  her  love 
And  axen  hire  for  to  wedde. 
One  was  which  atte  laste  spedde, 
But  that  was  more  for  liking 
To  have  his  lust  than  for  wedding, 

1  Or  that,  before. 


BOOK  VII.— HOW  A  KING   WAS  TAUGHT.      405 


As  he  within  his  hertc  caste, 
Whiche  him  rcpenteth  atte  laste. 
For  so  it  fell  the  firste  night, 
That  whan  he  was  to  beddd  dight 
As    he   which    no   thing  God  be- 

secheth, 

But  all  only  his  lustes  secheth, 
Asmod,  which  was  a  fend  of  helle 
And  serveth  as  the  bokes  telle 
To  tempte  a  man  in  such  a  wise, 
Was  redy  there,  and  thilke  emprise 
Whiche  he  hath  set  upon  delite 
He  vengeth  than  in  such  a  plite 
That  he  his  neck  hath  writh  atwo. 
This  yonge  wife  was  sory  tho, 
Which  wiste  nothing  what  it  ment. 
And  netheless  yet  thus  it  went 
Nought  only  for  this  firste  man, 
But  after  right  as  he  began, 
Six  other  of  her  husebondes 
Asmod  hath  take  into  his  hondes, 
So  that  they  all  abedde  deiede, 
Whan  they  her  hond  toward  her 

leide, 

Nought  for  the  lawe  of  manage, 
But  for  that  ilke  firy  rage 
In  which  that  they  the  lawe  excede. 
For  who  that  wolde  taken  hede 
What  after  fell  in  this  matere, 
There  might  he  well  the  sothe  here 
Whan  she  was  wedded  to  Thobie, 
And  Raphael  in  compaigny 
Hath  taught  him  how  to  be  honest. 
Asmod  wan  nought  at  thilke  fest, 
And  yet  Thoby  his  wille  hadde, 
For  he  his  lust  so  godely  ladde 
That    bothe    lawe    and    kinde    is 

served, 

Wherof  he  hath  him  self  preserved 
That  he  fell  nought  in  the  sentence. 
Of  which  an  open  evidence 
By  this  ensample  a  man  may  se, 
That  whan  liking  in  the  degre 
Of  manage  may  forswey, 
Well  ought  him  than  in  other  \vey 


Of  lust  to  be  the  better  avised. 
For  God  the  lawes  hath  ussised 
As  well  to  reson  as  to  kinde, 
But  he  the  bestes  wolde  binde 
Only  to  lawe's  of  nature, 
But  to  the  marines  creature 
God  yaf  him  reson  forth  withall 
Wherof  that  he  nature  shall 
Upon  the  causes  modify, 
That  he  shall  do  no  lechery, 
And  yet  he  shall  his  lustes  have, 
So  ben  the  lawes  bothe  save 
And  every  thing  put  out  of  sclaunder, 
As  whilom  to  king  Alisaundre 
The  wise  philosophre  taught, 
Whan  he  his  firste  lore  caught, 
Nought  only  upon  chastete, 
But  als  upon  alle  honeste. 
Wherof  a  King  him  self  may  taste, 
How  trewe,  how  large,  how  juste, 

how  chaste 

Him  ought  of  reson  for  to  be 
Forth  with  the  vertue  of  pite. 
Through  which  he  may  great  thank 

deserve 

Toward  his  God,  that  he  preserve 
Him  and  his  people  in  alle  welthe 
Of  pees,  riche'sse,  honour  and  helthe 
Here  in  this  worlde  and  die's  eke. 
"  My  sone,  as  we  to-fore*  speke 
In  shrift^,  so  as  thou  me  saidest, 
Andforthinese,asthoumepraidest, 
Thy  love  throwes  for  to  lisse, 
That  I  the  wolde  telle  and  wisse 
The  forme  of  Aristotles  lore, 
I  have  it  said,  and  somdele  more 
Of  other  ensamples  to  assaie 
If  I  thy  peines  mighte  alaie 
Through  any  thing  whiche  I  can 

say."- 

"  Do  wey,  my  fader,  I  you  pray; 
Of  that  ye  have  unto  me  tolde 
I  thonke  you  a  thousand  folde  ; 
The  tale's  sounen  in  min  ere, 
But  yet  min  herte  is  elles  where  ; 


406 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


I  may  my  selve  nought  restreigne 
That  I  nam  ever  in  loves  peine. 
Such  lore  couthe  I  never  gete, 
Which  mighte  make  me  foryete 
O  point,  but  if  so  were  I  slepte, 
That  I  my  tides  ayeine  kepte 
To  thenke  of  love  and  of  his  lawe, 
That    herte    can    I    nought  with- 

drawe. 

Forthy,  my  gode  fader  dere, 
Leve  and  speke  of  my  matere 
Touchend  of  Love  as  we  begonne, 
If  that  there  be  ought  over  ronne 
Or  ought  foryete  or  left  behinde 


Which  falleth  unto  Loves  kinde, 
Wherof  it  nedeth  to  be  shrive, 
Now  axeth,  so  that  while  I  live 
I  might  amende  that  is  amis."— 

"  My  gode'  dere  sone,  vis. 
Thy  shrifte  for  to  make  plein, 
There  is  yet  more  for  to  sain 
Of  Love  which  is  unavised. 
But  for  thou  shalt  be  well  avised 
Unto  thy  shrifte  as  it  belongeth, 
A  point  which  upon  love  hongeth 
And  is  the  laste  of  alle  tho, 
I  woll  the  telle,  and  thanne  'ho.;  l 

1  Then  stop. 


CJ)C  miaf)fg  $<>&,  which  unbe- 
gonne 

Slant  of  him  self  and  hath  begonnc 
All  other  thinges  at  his. will, 
The  heven  him  liste  to  fulfill 
Of  alle  joie,  where  as  he 
Sit  enthronfze'd  in  his  see 
And  hath  his  aungels  him  to  serve, 
Such  as  him  liketh  to  preserve 
So  that  they  mowd  nought  forswey, 
But  Lucifer  he  put  awey 
With  al  the  route  apostazfed 
Of  hem  that  ben  to  him  allied, 
Which  out  of  heven  into  helle 
From  aungels  into  fende's  felle, 
Where  that  there  is  no  joy  of  light, 
But  more  derk  than  any  night, 
The  peine  shall  ben  endeless. 
And  yet  of  fire's  netheles 
There  is  plentd,  but  they  ben  blacke, 
Wherof  no  sighte  may  be  take. 
"  Thus   whan   the    thingds   ben 

befalle, 

That  Lucifere's  Court  was  falle 
Where  dedly  pride  hem  hath  con- 

veied, 

Anone. forth  with  it  was  purveied 
Through  him   which   alle   thinge's 

may, 

He  made  Addm  the  sixte  day 
In  Paradise,  and  to  his  make 
Him  liketh  Eve  also  to  make 
And  bad  hem  cresce  and  multiply. 


For  of  the  manne's  progeny 
Which  of  the  woman  shall  be  bore, 
The  nombre  of  aungels  which  was 

lore 

Whan  they  out  fro  the  blisse  felle 
He  thoughte  to  restore,  and  fille 
In  heven  thilke  holy  place 
Which  stood  tho  voide  upon   his 

grace. 

But  as  it  is  well  wist  and  knowe, 
Addm  and  Eve  but  a  throwe, 
So  as  it  shuld  of  hem  betide, 
In  Paradise  at  thilkl  tide 
Ne  dwelten,  and  the  causd  why 
Write  in  the  boke  of  Genesy 
As  who  saith  alle  men  have  herdc, 
Mow  Raphael  the  firy  swerde 
In  honde  toke  and  drove  hem  out 
To  gete  her  Jive's  food  about 
Upon  this  wofull  erthe  here. 
Metodre  saith  to  this  matere, 
As  he  by  revelacion 
It  had  upon  avision 
How  that  Addm  and  Eve  also 
Virgine's  comen  bothd  two 
Into  the  world  and  were  ashamed 
Till  that  nature  hath  hem  reclaimed 
To  love  and  taught  hem  thilke  lore 
That  first  they  kiste  and  over  more 
They  done  that  is  to  kinds'  due, 
Wherof  they  hadden  faire  issue. 
A  sone  was  the  firste  of  alle, 
j  And  Chaim  by  name  they  him  calle. 


4o8 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Abel  was  after  the  secoiinde 
And  in  the  geste  as  it  is  founde 
Nature  so  the  cause  ladde, 
Two  doughters  eke  dame  Eve  hadde, 
The  firste  cleped  Calmand 
Was,  and  that  other  Delbora. 
Thus  was  mankinde  to  beginne, 
Forthy  that  time  it  was  no  sinne 
The  suster  for  to  take  the  brother, 
Whan  that  ther  was  of  chois  non 

other. 

To  Chaim  was  Calmana  betake. 
And  Delboram  hath  Abel  take, 
In  whom  was  getd  netheles 
Of  worldes  folk  the  first  encres. 
Men  sain  that  nede  hath  no  lawe, 
And  so  it  was  by  thilke  dawe 
And  laste  unto  the  seconde  age, 
Till  that  the  grete  water  rage 
Of  Noe,  which  was  said  the  flood, 
The  world,  which  than  in  sinne*  stood, 
Hath  dreint,  out  take  lives  eight. 
Tho  was  mankinde  of  litel  weight. 
Sem,  Cam,  Japhet,  of  these  thre, 
That  ben  the  sones  of  Noe, 
The  worlde  of  mannes  nation 
Into  multiplication 
Was  tho  restored  new  ayein 
So  ferforth  as  these  bokes  sain, 
That  of  hem  thre  and  her  issue 
There  was  so  large  a  retenue 
Of  nations  seventy  and  two, 
In  sondry  place  eche  one  of  tho 
The  wide  world  have  enhabited. 
But  as  nature  hem  hath  excited, 
They  token  thanne  litel  hede 
The  brother  of  the  susterhede 
To  wedde*  wives,  till  it  cam 
Into  the  time  of  Abraham, 
Whan  the  thridde  age  was  begonne, 
The  nede  tho  was  overonne, 
For  there  was  people  inough  in  londe. 
Then  atte  first  it  came  to  honde, 
That  susterhede  of  manage 
Was  torned  into  cousinage, 


So  that  after  the  righte  line 
The  cousin  weddeth  the  cousine. 
For  Abraham  er  that  he  deied 
This  charge  upon  his  servaunt  leied 
To  him  and  in  this  wise  spake, 
That  he  his  sone  Isaac 
Do  wedde  for  no  worldes  good, 
But  only  to  his  owne  blood. 
Wherof  the  servaunt  as  he  badde, 
Whan  he  was  dede,  his  sone  hath 

ladde 

To  Bathuel,  where  he  Rebecke 
Hath  wedded  with  the  white  necke. 
For  she,  he  wiste  well  and  sigh, 
Was  to  the  childe  cousin  nigh. 
"And    thus    as   Abraham  hath 

taught, 

Whan  Isaac  was  God  betaught, 
His  sone  Jacob  did  also 
And  of  Laban  the  doughters  two. 
Which  was  his  erne,1  he  toke  to  wife 
And  gate  upon  hem  in  his  life, 
Of  her  firste  which  hightd  Lie, 
Six  sones  of  his  progenie, 
And  of  Rachel  two  sones  eke  ; 
The  remenaunt  was  for  to  seke, 
This  is  to  sain  of  foure  mo, 
Wherof  he  gate  on  Bala  two 
And  of  Zelpha  he  had  eke  twey. 
And  these  twelve,  as  I  the  say, 
Through  providence  of  God  him 

selve 

Ben  said  2  the  Patriarkes  Twelve. 
Of  whom  as  afterward  befel 
The  tribes  twelf  of  Israel 
Engendred  were,  and  ben  the  same, 
That  of  Hebrews  tho  hadden  name, 
Which  of  sibred  3  in  aliaunce 
For  ever  kepten  thilke  usauhce 
Most  comunly,  till  Crist  was  bore. 
But  afterward  it  was  forbore 
Among  us  that  ben  baptized. 
For  of  the  lawe  canonized 

1  Eme,  uncle.  -  Said,  named. 

a  Si/wrf,  kindred. 


BOOK  VIII. 


409 


The  Pope  hath  bode  to  the  men, 
That  none  shall  wedden  of  his  kin 
Ne  the  secdnde  ne  the  thriddc. 
But  though  that  Holy  Chirche  it 

bidde, 

So  to  restreigne  mariiige, 
There  ben  yet  upon  loves  rage 
Ful  many  of  suche  now  a  day, 
That  taken  where  they  take  ma}-. 
For  love*,  whiche  is  unbesein 
Of  alle  reson,  as  men  sain, 
Through  sotie  and  through  nicete 
Of  his  voluptuosite 
He  spareth  no  condicion 
Of  kin  ne  yet  religion. 

My  sone,  thou  shalt  understonde, 
That  such  delite  is  for  to  blame. 
Forthy  if  thou  hast  be  the  same 
To  love  in  any  such  manere, 
Tell  forth  therof  and   shrive  the 

here."— 
"  My  fader,  nay,  God  wot  the 

sothe, 

My  faire  is  nought  in  such  a  bothe, 
So  wilde  a  man  yet  was  I  never, 
That  of  my  kin,  or  leve  or  lever. 
Me  liste  love  in  such  a  wise. 
And  eke  I  not  for  what  emprise 
I  shulde  assote  upon  a  nonne, 
For  though  I  had  her  love  wonnc 
It  might  into  no  prise  amounte, 
So  therof  set  I  none  accompte. 
Ye  may  well  axe  of  this  and  that, 
But  sothly  for  to  telle  plat, 
In  all  this  world  there  is  but  one, 
The  which  my  herte  hath  over  gone. 
I  am  toward  all  other  fre." — 

**  Full  well,  my  sone,  now  I  se 
Thy  word  stant  ever  upon  o  place, 
But  yet  therof  thou  hast  a  grace, 
That  thou  the  might  so  well  excuse 
Of  love,  such  as  some  men  use, 
So  as  I  spake  of  now  to-fore. 
For  all  such  time  of  love  is  lore, 
And  lich  unto  the  bitter  swete, 


For  though  it  thenke  a  man  first 

swete, 

He  shall  well  felen  attd  laste, 
That  it  is  soure  and  may  nought  laste. 
For  as  a  morcel  enven fined, 
So  hath  such  love  his  lust  mistimed, 
And  great  ensamples  many  one 
A  man  may  findd  therupon. 

"  |lt  gtomtf  first  if  we  begin, 
There  shal  I  find  howe  of  this  sin 
An  emperour  was  for  to  blame, 
Gaius  Caligula  by  name, 
Which  of  his  owne  susters  thre 
Berefte  the  virginite, 
And  did  hem  out  of  londe  exile. 
But  afterward  within  a  while 
God  hath  beraft  him  in  his  ire 
His  life,  and  eke  his  large  empire. 

"  Of  this  soty  also  I  finde 
Amon  his  suster  ayein  kinde, 
Which  highte  Thamar,  he  forlay, 
But  he  that  lust  another  day 
Aboughte,  whan  that  Absolon 
His  owne  brother  there  upon, 
Of  that  he  had  his  suster  shent, 
Toke  of  that  sinne"  vengement 
And  slough  him  with  his  owne  honde. 
And  thus  thunkinde  unkinde  fonde. 
"  And  for  to  se  more  of  this  thing 
The  bible  maketh  a  knouleching, 
Wherof  thou  might  take  evidence 
Upon  the  soth  experience. 
Wrhan  Lothes  wife  was  overgone 
And  shape  unto  the  salte  stone, 
As  it  is  spoke  unto  this  day, 
By  both  his  doughters  than  he  lay. 
And  so  the  cause  about  he  ladde, 
That  eche  of  hem  a  sone  hadde, 
Moab  the  first  and  the  secounde 
Amon  ;  of  which  as  it  is  founde 
Cam  afterward  to  great  encres 
Two  nati6ns.     And  netheles 
For  that  the  stocked  were  ungood, 
The  braunches  mighten  nought  ben 
good. 


CONFESSIO  AM  ANT  IS. 


For  of  the  false  Moabites 

Forth  with  the  strength  of  Amonites, 

Of  that  they  weren  first  misget, 

The  people  of  God  was  ofte  upset 

In  Israel  and  in  Judee, 

As  in  the  bible  a  man  may  se. 

"  Lo  thus,  my  sone,  as  I  the  say, 
Thou  might  thy  selve  be  besay 
Of  that  thou  hast  of  other  hercle, 
For  ever  yet  it  hath  so  ferde, 
Of  loves  lust  if  so  befalle 
That  it  in  other  place  falle 
Than  it  is  of  the  lawe  sette. 
He,  which  his  love  hath  so  besette 
Mote  afterward  repent  him  sore, 
And  every  man  is  others  lore. 
Of  that  befell  in  time  er  this, 
The  present  time  which  nowe  is 
May  ben  enformed  how  it  stood. 
And  take  that  him  thenketh  good 
And  leve  that  which  is  nought  so. 
But  for  to  loke  of  time  ago, 
How  lust  of  love  excedeth  lawe, 
It  oughte  for  to  be  withdravve. 
For  every  man  it  shulde  drede 
And  namelich  in  his  sibrede, 
Which  torneth  ofte  to  vengeaimce, 
Wherof  a  tale  in  remembraunce, 
Which  is  a  long  process  to  here, 
I  thenke  for  to  tellen  here. 

$f  a  croniquc  in  daies  gon, 
The  which  is  cleped  Panteon, 
In  loves  cause  I  rede  thus, 
How  that  the  great  Antiochus, 
Of  whom  that  Antioche  toke 
His  firste  name,  as  saith  the  boke, 
Was  coupled  to  a  noble  quene, 
And  had  a  doughter  hem  betwene. 
But  such  fortune  cam  to  honde, 
That  deth,  which  no  kind  may  with- 

stonde 

But  every  life  it  mote  obey, 
This  worthy  quend  toke  awey. 
The  king,  which  made  mochel  mone, 
Tho  stood  as  who  saith  all  him  one 


Withoutc  wife,  but  netheles 
His  doughter  which  was  perelcs 
Of  beaute  dwelt  about  him  stille. 
But  whan  a  man  hath  welth  at  willc 
The  flesshe  is  frele  and  falleth  ofte, 
And  that  this  maide  tendreandsofte 
Whiche    in     her    faders    chambre 

dwelte 

Within  a  time  wist  and  felte, 
It  helpeth  nought  all   though  she 

wepe, 

For  they  that  shulde  her  body  kepe 
Of  women  were  absent  as  than, 
And  thus  this  maiden  goth  to  man. 
The  wilde  fader  thus  devoureth 
His  owne  flessh,  which  none  socou- 

reth, 

And  that  was  cause  of  mochel  care. 
But  after  this  unkinde  fare 
Out  of  the  chambre  goth  the  king. 
And  she  lay  still  and  of  this  thing 
Within  her  self  such  sorwe  made 
There   was   no  wight,  that   might 

her  glade, 

For  fere  of  thilke  horrible  vice. 
With  that  came  inne  the  norice, 
Which  fro  childhodeherhaddekepte 
And  axeth  if  she  hadde  slepte, 
And  why  her  chere  was  unglad. 
But  she,  which  hath  ben  overlad 
Of  that  she  mightc  nought  bewreke, 
For  shame  couth  unethes  speke. 
And  netheles  mercy  she  praide 
With  wepingeye  and  thus  she  saide : 
'  Helas,  my  suster,  wailovvay, 
That  ever  I  sigh  this  ilke  day. 
My  worldes  worship  is  berefte.' 
With  that  she  swounethnowand  efte 
And  ever  wissheth  after  deth, 
So  that  welnigh  her  lacketh  breth. 
"  That  other,  which  her  wordes 

herde, 

In  comforting  of  her  answerde. 
'  Whan  thing  is  do,  there  is  no  bote. 
So  suffren  they  that  suffren  mote. 


BOOK   nil. 


411 


There  was  none  other,  which  it  wist/ 
Thus  hath  this  king  all  that  him  list 
And  such  delite  he  toke  there  in, 
Him  thoughtc  that  it  was  no  sin. 
And  she  durst  him  no  thing  withsay. 
But  Fam<5,  which  goth  every  way, 
To  sondry  regnes  all  aboute 
The  greate  beaute  telleth  oute 
Of  such  a  maide  of  high  para*ge. 
So  that  for  love  of  mariage 
The  worthy  princes  come  and  sende, 
As  they  the  which  all  honour  wende 
Andknewnothfng  how  that  it  stode. 
''  The  fader  whan  he  understode 
That    they  his  doughter  thus  be 
sought, 

With  all  his  wit  he  cast  and  sought 
How  that  he  mighte  finde  a  lette, 
And  such  a  statute  than  he  sette 
And  in  this  wise  his  law<5  taxeth, 
That  what  man  that  his  doughter 

axeth, 

But  if  he  couthe  his  question 
Assoile  J  upon  suggestion 
Of  certein  thinges  that  befelle, 
The  which  he  wolde  unto  him  telle, 
He  shulde  in  certein  lese  his  hede. 
And  thus  there  were'  many  dede, 
Her  hedes  stonding  on  the  gate, 
Till  atte'  laste  long  and  late 
For  lacke  of  answere  in  this  wise 
The  remenaunt  that  weren  wise 
Escheueden  to  make  assay. 

"  Till  it  befell  upon  a  day 
Appollinus  the  prince  of  Tire, 
Which  hath  to  love  a  great  desire, 
A  yonge,  a  fresh,  a  lusty  knight, 
As  he  lay  musing  on  a  night 
Of  the  tidfnges,  which  he  herde, 
He  thought  assay  how  that  it  ferde. 
He  was  with  worthy  compaignie 
Arraidd  and  with  good  navie 
To  ship  he  goth,  the  winde  him 
driveth, 

1  Assoile,  solve. 


And  saileth  till  that  he  arriveth 
Sauf  in  the  porte  of  Antioche. 
He  londeth  and  goth  to  approche 
The  kinge*s  court  and  his  presence. 

"  Of  every  natural  science 
\Yhiche  any  clerkd  couth  him  teche 
lie  couth  inough,  and  in  his  speche 
Of  wordes  he  was  eloquent. 
And  whan  he  sigh  the  king  present, 
He  praieth  he  mote  his  doughter 

have. 

The  king  ayein  began  to  crave 
And  tolde  him  the  condicion, 
How  first  unto  his  question 
He  mote  answere  and  faile  nought, 
Orwith  his  heved  it  shall  be  bought. 
And  he  him  axeth,  what  it  was. 

"  The  king  declareth  him  the  cas 
With  sterne  loke  and  stordy  chere, 
To  him  and  said  in  this  manere: 
'  With  felony  I  am  upbore, 
I  ete,  and  have  it  nought  forlore. 
My  moders  flesh,  whose  husebonde, 
My  fader,  for  to  seche  I  fonde, 
Which  is  the  sone  eke  of  my  wife. 
Herof  I  am  inquisitife. 
And  who  that  can  my  tale  save 
Al  quite  he  shall  my  doughter  have. 
Of  his  answere  and  if  he  faile, 
He  shall  be  dede  withoute  faile. 
Forthy  my  sone',  quod  the  king, 
Be  wel  avised  of  this  thing, 
Which  hath  thy  life  in  jeopartie. 
Appollinus  for  his  partie 
Whan  he  that  question  had  herde, 
Unto  the  king  he  hath  answerde 
And  hath  reherced  one  and  one 
The  points  and  saide  therupon  : 

'  The  question,  which  thou  hast 

spoke, 

If  thou  wolt  that  it  be  tinloke, 
It  toucheth  all  the  privete 
Betwene  thin  owne  child  and  the 
And  stant  all  hole  upon  you  two.' 
The  king  was  wonder  sory  tho 


412 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  thought,  if  that  he  said  it  out, 
Than  were  he  shamed  all  about. 
With  slighe  wordes  and  with  felle 
He  saith :  *  My  sone,  I  shall  the  telle, 
Though  that  thou  be  of  litel  wit, 
It  is  no  great  merveile  as  yit, 
Thin  age  may  it  nought  suffise. 
But  loke  wel  thou  nought  despise 
Thin  owne  life,  for  of  my  grace 
Of  thritty  daies  full  a  space 
I  graunte  the,  to  ben  avised.' 

"And  thus  with  leve  and  time 

assised 

This  yonge  prince  forth  he  wente 
And  understode  wel  what  it  mente. 
Within  his  herte  as  he  was  lered, 
That  for  to  maken  him  afered 
The  kinge  his  time  hath  so  delaied, 
Wherof  he  drad  and  was  amaied 
Of  treson  that  he  deie  sholde 
For  he  the  king  his  sothe  tolde. 
And  sodeinly  the  nightes  tide, 
That  more  wolde  he  nought  abide, 
Al  prively  his  barge  he  hente 
And  home  ayein  to  Tire  he  wente. 
And  in  his  owne  wit  he  saide, 
For  drede,  if  he  the  king  bewraide 
He  knew  so  wel  the  kinges  herte 
That   deth   ne  shulde   he    nought 

asterte,1 

The  king -him  wolde  so  pursue. 
But  he  that  wolde  his  deth  escheue 
And  knewe  all  this  to-fore  the  honde, 
Forsake  he  thought  his  owne  londe, 
That  there  wolde  he  nought  abide. 
For  wel  he  knew  that  on  some  side 
This  tiraunt  of  his  felonie 
By  some  manere  of  trecherie 
To  greve  his  body  woll  nought  leve. 

"  Forthy  withouten  taking  leve 
As  privelich  as  ever  he  might 
He  goth  him  to  the  see  by  night, 
Her  shippes  ben  with  whete  laden, 
Her  takil  redy  tho  they  maden 

1  Asterte,  escape. 


And  haleth  sail  and  forth  they  fare. 
But  for  to  tellen  of  the  care, 
That  they  of  Tire  baren  tho, 
Whan  that  they  wist  he  was  ago, 
It  is  a  pite  for  to  here. 
They  losten  lust,  they  losten  chere, 
Theytokeupon  hem  such  penaunce, 
There  was  no  song,  there  was  no 

daunce, 

But  every  merthe  and  melody 
To  hem  was  than  a  malady, 
For  unlust  of  that  aventdre. 
Therewasno  man  which  toke  tonsure, 
In  dolfull  clothes  they  hem  clothe. 
The  bathes  and  the  stewes  bothe 
They  s.hetten  in  by  every  wey. 
There  was  no  life  which  liste  pley 
Ne  take  of  any  joie  kepe, 
But  for  her  lege  lord  to  wepe, 
And  every  wight  said  as  he  couth : 
{  Helas,  the  lusty  floure  of  youth, 
Ourprince,ourheved,ourgovernour, 
Through    whom    we    stonden    in 

honour, 

Withoute  the  comune  assent, 
That  sodeinly  is  fro  us  went  ! ' 
Such  was  the  clamour  of  hem  alie. 
"  But  se  we  now  what  is  befalle 
Upon  the  firste  tale  pleine 
And  torne  we  therto  ayeine. 
"  Antiochus  the  grete  sire. 
Which  full  of  rancour  and  of  ire 
His  herte  bereth  so  as  ye  herde 
Of  that  this  prince  of  Tire  answerde, 
He  had  a  felow  bacheler, 
Which  was  his  prive  counseiler 
And  Taliart  by  name  he  hight. 
The  king  a  strong  poison  him  dight 
Within  a  buist l  and  gold  therto, 
In  alle  haste  and  bad  him  go 
Straught  unto  Tire  and  for  no  cost 
Ne  spare  till  he  hadde  lost 
The  prince  which  he  wolde  spill. - 
And  whan  the  king  hath  said  his  will 

,  box.  "  Spill,  oestroy. 


BOOK  VIII. 


This  Taliart  in  a  galey 
With  ail  the  haste  he  toke  his  wey. 
The  wind  was  good,  they  sailethblive, 
Till  he  toke  lond  upon  the  rive 
Of  Tire  and  forth  with  all  anone 
Into  the  burgh  he  gan  to  gone 
Andtoke  hisinneand  bodeathrowc. 
JUit  for  he  wolde  nought  beknowe, 
Desguised  than  he  goth  him  out. 
He  sigh  the  weping  all  about 
And  axeth,  what  the  cause*  was. 
And  they  him  tolden  all  the  cas, 
How  sodeinly  the  prince  is  go. 
And  whan  he  sigh  that  it  was  so 
And  that  his  labour  was  in  veine 
Anone  he  torneth  home  ayeine 
And  to  the  king  whan  he  cam  nigh 
He  tolde  of  that  he  herde  and  sigh, 
How  that  the  prince  of  Tire  is  fled, 
So  was  he  come  ayein  unsped. 
The  king  was  sory  for  a  while 
But  whan  he  sigh  that  with  no  wile 
He  might  acheve  his  cruelte, 
He  stint  his  wrath  and  let  him  be. 
"  But  over  this  now  for  to  telle 
Of  adventures  that  befelle 
Unto  this  prince,  of  which  I  tolde, 
He  hath  his  righte  cours  forth  holde 
By  stone  and  nedel  till  he  cam 
To  Tharse,  and  ther  his  londe  he 

nam. 

A  bourgeis  riche  of  golde  and  fee 
Was  thilke  time  in  that  citee, 
Which  cleped  was  Strangulio, 
His  wife  was  Dionfse  also. 
This  yonge  prince,  as  saiththeboke, 
With  him  his  herbergdge'  toke. 
And  it  befell  that  citee  so 
Before  time  and  than  also 
Through  strong^  famin  whiche  hem 

lad 

Was  none  that  any  whete*  had. 
Appollinus,  whan  that  he  herde 
The  mischefe,  how  the  citee  ferde, 
All  frelich  of  his  ownd  vifte 


His  whete  among  hem  for  to  shifte, 
The  which  by  ship  hehadde*  brought, 
He  yave,  and  toke  of  hem  right 

nought. 

lint  sithen  first  this  world  began, 
Was  never  yet  to  such  a  man 
Morejoie  made,  thanthey  him  made. 
For  they  were  all  of  him  so  glade 
That  they  for  ever  in  remembraunce 
Made  a  figure  in  re'semblaunce 
Of  him  and  in  a  comun  place 
They  set  it  up,  so  that  his  face 
Might  every  maner  man  beholde 
So  as  the  citee  was  beholde, 
It  was  of  laton  l  over  gilt. 
Thus  hath  he  nought  his  yifte  spilt. 

*'  Upon  a  time  with  a  route 
This  lord  to  pleie  goth  him  oute 
And  in  his  way  of  Tire  he  mette 
Aman,  which  on  his  knees  him  grette, 
And  Hellican  by  name  he  hight, 
Which  praide  his  lord  to  have  in 
sight 

Upon  him  self  and  said  him  thus, 
How  that  the  great  Antiochus 
Awaiteth  if  he  might  him  spille. 
That  other  thought  and  helde  him 

stille 

And  thonked  him  of  his  warning 
And  bad  him  telle  no  tiding, 
Whan  he  to  Tire  cam  home  ayeine, 
That  he  in  Tharse  him  hadde  seine. 
"  Fortune  hath  ever  be  mudble 
And  may  no  while*  stonde  stable. 
For  now  it  higheth,  now  it  loweth, 
Now    stant    upright,    now    over- 

throweth, 

Now  full  of  bliss  and  now  of  bale, 
As  in  the  telling  of  my  tale 
Here  afterward  a  man  may  lere, 
Which  is  great  routh^  for  to  here. 
"This  lord,  which  wolde  done 
his  best, 

1  Laton,  latten,  an  alloy  of  copper  with  tin  ; 
the  material  of  ancient  church  brasses. 


CONFESSIO  A  MANTIS. 


Within  him  self  hath  litel  rest 
And  thought  he  wolde  his  place 

chaunge 

And  seke  a  centre  more'  straunge. 
Of  Tharsiens  his  leve  anone 
He  toke  and  is  to  shippe  gone. 
His cours he nam  with  saileupdravve, 
Where  as  Fortune  doth  the  lawe 
And  sheweth  as  I  shall  reherce 
How  she  was  to  this  lord  diverse, 
Thewhich  upon  the  see  sheferketh.1 
The  winde  aros,  the  wether  derketh, 
It  blew  and  made  such  tempest, 
None  anker  may  the  ship  arest, 
Which  hath  to-broken  all  his  gere. 
The  shipmen  stood  in  such  a  fere, 
Was  none    that    might    him    self 

bestere, 

But  ever  awaite  upon  the  lere  2 
Whan  that  they  sholden  drenche 

at  ones. 

There  was  inough  within  the  wones 
Of  weping  and  of  sorwe  tho. 
The  yonge*  king  maketh  mochel  wo 
So  for  to  se  the  ship  travaile, 
Butallthat  might  himnoughtavaile. 
The  mast  to-brake,  the  sail  to-rofe,;5 
The  ship  upon  the  wawes  drofe, 
Till  that  they  se  the  londes  costc, 
Tho  madeavowthe  leste  and  moste, 
Be  so  they  mighten  come  a  londe. 
But  he  which  hath  the  se  on  honde, 
Neptunus,  wolde  nought  accorde, 
But  all  to-brake  cable  and  corde, 
Er  they  to  londe  mighte  approche. 
The  ship  to-clef  upon  a  roche 
And  all  goth  down  into  the  depe. 
But  he  that  alle  thing  may  kepc 
Unto  this  lord  was  mercidble 
And  brought  him  sauf  upon  a  table  4 
Which  to  the  londe  him  hathupborc. 
The  remenaunt  was  all  forlore. 
Herof  he  made  mochel  mone. 

1  Ferketh,  hastens.  2  Wait  to  learn. 

a  To-rofe,  was  riven  to  shreds. 
*  Table,  plank. 


"Thus was  this  yonge  lorde  alone 
All  naked  in  a  pouer  plite. 
His  colour  which  was  whilom  white 
Was  than  of  water  fade  and  pale, 
And  eke  he  was  so  sore  a  cale,1 
That  he  wist  of  him  self  no  bote, 
It  helpe  him  no  thing  for  to  mote  2 
To  gete  ayein  that  he  hath  lore. 
But  she  which  hath  his  deth  forbore, 
Fortune,  though  she  woll  nought 

yelpe,8 

All  sodeinly  hath  sent  him  helpe 
Whan  him  thought  alle  grace  awey. 
There  came  a  fissher  in  the  wey 
And  sigh  a  man  there  naked  stonde. 
And  whan  that  he  hath  understonde 
The  cause,  he  hath  of  him  great 

routh 

And  onlich  of  his  pouer  trouth 
Of  suche  clothes  as  he  hadde 
With  great  pitd  tfiis  lord  he  cladde. 
And  he  him  thonketh  as  he  sholde 
And  saithhimthat  it  shall  be  yolde,4 
If  ever  he  gete  his  state  ayein, 
And  praieth,  that  he  wolde  him  sain 
If  nigh  were  any  town  for  him. 
He  saide  :   •  Ye,  Pentopolim, 
Where    bothe*    king    and    quene 

dwellen.' 

Whan  he  this  tale  herde  teller), 
He  gladdeth  him  and  gan  beseche, 
That  he  the  wey  him  wolde  teche. 
And  he  him  taught.     And  forth  he 

went 

And  praide*  God  with  good  entent 
To  sende  him  joy  after  his  sorwe. 
"  It  was  nought  passed  yet  mid- 

morwe,5 

Than  thidenvard  his  wey  he  nam, 
Where  soneupon  the  none  he  cam. 
He  etc*  such  as  he  might  gete, 
And  forth  anone  whan  he  had  etc, 

1  A  cale,  a  cold;  -  Mote.  sue. 

3  Yelpe ,  boast.  4  Yolde,  repaid. 

5  Mtatfforwt,  half  way  between  sunrise  and 
noon. 


BOOK  VIII. 


He  goth  to  sc  the  town  about, 
And  cam  there  as  he  found  a  rout 
Of  yonge  lusty  men  withall. 
And  as  it  shulde  tho  befall, 
That  clay  was  set  of  such  assise, 
That  they  shulde  in  the  londe's  gise 
As  he  herde  of  the  people  say 
Her  comun  game*  thanne'  pley. 
And  cridd  was,  that  they  shuld  come 
Unto  the  games  all  and  some 
Of  hem  that  ben  deliver  l  and  wight 
To  do  such  maistry  as  they  might. 
They  made    hem    naked  as   they 

sholde, 

For  so  that  ilke  game*  wolde 
And  it  was  tho  custume  and  use, 
Amonge's  hem  was  no  refuse. 
The  floure  of  all  the  town  was  there 
And  of  the  court  also  there  were, 
And  that  was  in  a  large*  place 
Right  even  before  the  kinge's  face, 
Whiche  Artestrates  thanne  hight. 
The  pley  was  pleied  right  in  his  sight, 
And  who  most  worthy  was  of  dede 
Receive  he  shulde  a  certain  mede 
And  in  the  citee  bere  a  price. 

"Appollinus  which  ware  and  wise 
Of  every  game*  couth  an  ende, 
He  thought  assay  how  so  it  wende. 
And  fell  among  hem  into  game, 
And  there  he  \vanne  him  such  a 

name, 

So  as  the  king  him  self  accompteth, 
That  he  all  other  men  surmounteth 
And  bare  the  prise  above  hem  alle. 
The  king  bad  that  into  his  halle 
At  souper  time  he  shall  be  brought. 
And  he  cam  than  and  lefte  it  nouglr, 
Without^  compaign}'  alone. 
Was  none  so  semelich  of  persone, 
Of  visage  and  of  limme's  bothe, 
If  that  he  hadde  what  to  clothe. 
At  souper  time  netheles 

1  Dflfi'fr,    supple.     Chaucer's    Squire  wa; 
'•  \sonderly  deliver  and  grete  of  strength." 


The  king  .imiddcs  all  the  pres 
Let  clepe  him  up  amonge  hem  alle 
And  bad  his  mareshall  of  his  halle 
To  setten  him  in  such  degre* 
That  he  upon  him  mightd  se. 
The  king  was  sone'  sette  and  served, 
And  he  which  had  his  prise  deserved 
After  the  kinge's  owne'  worde, 
Was  made  begin  a  middel  borde 
That  bothe*  kingandquene  him  sigh. 
He  sette  and  cast  about  his  eye, 
And  sigh  the  lordes  in  estate 
And  with  him  self  wax  in  debate 
Thenkend  of  what  he  hadde  lore, 
And  such  a  sorwe  he  toke  therforc, 
That  he  sat  ever  still  and  thought, 
As  he  which  of  no  metd  rought. 

"The  king  behelde  his  hevinesse 
And  of  his  grete  gentilesse 
His  doughter  which  was  faire  and 

good 

And  atte  bord  before  him  stood, 
As  it  was  thilke*  time  usage, 
He  bad  to  go  on  his  message 
And  foundd1  for  to  make  him  glad. 
And  she  did  as  her  fader  bad 
And  goth  to  him  the  softd  pas 
And  axeth  whenne  and  what  he  was. 
And  praith  he  shulde  his  thoughts 

leve. 

"  Hesaith : '  Madamd,by  your  leve. 
My  name  is  note  Appollinus, 
And  of  my  richesse  it  is  thus, 
Upon  the  see  I  have  it  lore. 
The  contr<5  where  as  I  was  bore. 
Where  that  mylond  is  andmyrente, 
I  lefte  at  Tire  whan  that  I  wentc, 
The  worship  there  of  which  I  ought 
Unto  the  God  I  there  betought.' 
And  thus  to-gider  as  they  two  speke, 
The  te're's  ran  down  by  his  cheke. 
The  king,  which  therof  toke  good 

kepe, 
Had  great  pitc;  to  se  him  \vepe 

1  Found f,  try.     . 


4i6 


CONFESSIO  AMAXTIS. 


And  for  his  doughter  send  ayein 
And  praid  her  faire  and  gan  to  sain 
That  she  no  lenger  wolde  drecche,1 
But   that   she  wolde    anone  forth 

fecche 

Her  harpe  and  done  all  that  she  can 
To  gladde  with  that  sory  man. 
And  she  to  done  her  faders  hest 
Her  harpe  set  and  in  the  feste 
Upon  a  chare  which  they  sette 
Her  self  next  to  this  man  she  sette. 
With    harpe    both    and  eke   with 

mouthe 

To  him  she  did  all  that  she  couthe 
To  make  him  chere,  and  ever  he 

siketh, 

And  she  him  axeth  how  him  liketh. 
'  Madame,  certes  well,'  he  saide, 

*  But  if  ye  the  mesiire'  plaide 
Which,  if  you  list,  I  shall  you  lere, 
It  were  a  glad  thing  for  to  here.' 

*  Ha,  leve  sire,'  tho  quod  she, 

*  Now  take  the  harpe  and  let  me  se, 
Of  what  mesure  that  ye  mene.' 

"  Tho  praith  the  king,  tho  praith 

the  quene, 

Forth  with  the  lordes  all  arewe, 
That  he  some  merthe  wolde  shewe. 
He  taketh  the  harpe  and  in  his  wise 
He  tempreth,  and  of  suche  assise 
Singend  he  harpeth  forth  withall 
That  as  a  vois  celestiall 
Hem  thought  it  souned  in  her  ere, 
As  though  that  he  an  aungel  were. 
They  gladen  of  his  melody", 
But  most  of  all  the  company 
The  kinges  doughter,  which  itherde, 
And  thought  eke  of  that  he  answerde 
Whan  that  it  was  of  her  apposed, 
Within  her  hert  hath  well  supposed 
That  he  is  of  great  gentilesse  ; 
His  dedes  ben  therof  witnesse 
Forth  with  the  wisdome  of  his  lore, 
It  nedeth  nought  to  seche  more. 

1  Drecche,  delay. 


He  might  nought  have  such  manere, 
Of  gentil  blood  but  if  he  were. 
Whan  he  hath  harped  all  his  fill 
The  kingds  heste  to  fulfill, 
Away  goth  dish,  away  goth  cup, 
Down  goth  the  bord,  the  cloth  was 

up, 
They  risen  and  gone  out  of  halle. 

"  The  king  his  chamberlein  let 

calle 

And  bad,  that  he  by  alle  wey 
A  chambre  for  this  man  purvey, 
Which  nigh  his  owne  chambre  be. 
i  It  shall  be  do,  my  lord,'  quod  he. 

"  Appollinus,  of  whom  I  mene, 
Tho  toke  his  leve  of  king  and  quene 
And  of  the  worthy  maide  also, 
Which  praid  unto  her  fader  tho, 
That  she  might  of  the  yonge  man 
Of  tho  sciences  which  he  can, 
His  lore  have.      And  in  this  wise 
The  king  her  graunteth  his  apprise, 
So  that  him  self  therto  assent. 
Thus  was  accorded  er  they  went 
That  he  with  all  that  ever  he  may 
This  yonge  faire  freshe  may  l 
Of  that  he  couthe  shulde  enforme. 
And  ful  assented  in  this  forme 
They  token  leve  as  for  that  night. 

"And  whan  it  was  on  morwe  right, 
Unto  this  yonge  man  of  Tire 
Of  clothes  and  of  good  attire 
With  gold  and  silver  to  despende 
This  worthy  yonge  lady  sende. 
And  thus  she  made  him  well  at  ese, 
And  he  with  all  that  he  can  plese 
Her  serveth  well  and  faire  ayeine. 
He  taught  her  till  she  was  certeine 
Of  harpe,  citole  and  of  riote  2 
With  many  a  tune  and  many  a  note, 
Upon  musique,  upon  mesure, 
And  of  her  harpe  the  temprure 

1  May,  maid. 

-  Citole,  a  stringed  instrument  played  with 
the  fingers ;  riote,  rote,  three-stringed  fiddle 
played  with  a  bow. 


BOOK  VIII. 


417 


He  taught  her  eke,  as  he  well  couth. 
But  as  men  sain  that  frele  is  youth, 
With  leiser  and  continuaunce, 
This  maide  fell  upon  a  chaunce, 
That  love  hath  made  him  a  quarele 
Ayeinc  her  youthe  fresh  and  frele, 
That  mulgre  where1  she  wold  or 

nought. 

She  mot  with  all  her  hertes  thought 
To  love  and  to  his  lawe  obey. 
And  that  she  shall  full  sore  abey, 
For  she  wot  never  what  it  is. 
But  ever  among  she  feleth  this, 
Thenkend  upon  this  man  of  Tire, 
Her  herte  is  hote  as  any  fire, 
And  otherwise  it  is  acale.- 
Now  is  she  red,  now  is  she  pale 
Right  after  the  conditidn 
Of  her  ymaginatidn. 
But  ever  among  her  thoughtes  alle, 
She  thoughte,  what  so  may  befalle, 
Or  that  she  laugh,  or  that  she  wepe, 
She  wolde  her  gode  name  kepe 
For  fere  of  womanisshe  shame. 
But  what  in  ernest,  what  in  game, 
She  slant  for  love  in  such  a  plite 
That  she  hath  lost  all  appetite 
Of  mete  and  drinke,  of  nightes  rest, 
As  she  that  not  3  what  is  the  best. 
But  for  to  thenken  all  her  fille 
She  helde  her  ofte'  times  stille 
Within    her    chambre    and    goth 

nought  out. 

The  king  was  of  her  life  in  doubt, 
\Vhich  wiste*  nothing  what  it  ment. 
"  But  fell  a  time,  as  he  out  went 
To  walke,  of  princes  Bone's  thre 
There  came  and  felle  to  his  knee, 
And  eche  of  hem  in  sondry  wise 
Besought  and  profreth  his  service, 
So  that  he  might  his  doughter  have. 
The  king,  which  wold  her  honour 

save, 


3  Xot,  knows  not. 


,  whether. 
2  Acale,  acold. 


Saith,  she  is  sike,  and  of  that  speche 
Tho  was  no  time  to  beseche, 
But  eche  of  hem  to  make  a  bille 
He  bad  and  write  his  owne  willc. 
His  name,  his  fader  and  his  good. 
And  whan  she  wist  how  that  it  stood, 
And  had  her  billes  oversein, 
They  shulden  have  answere  ayein. 
Of  this  counseil  they  weren  glad 
And  writen  as  the  king  hem  bad, 
And  every  man  his  owne  boke 
Into  the  kinges  hond  betoke. 
And  he  it  to  his  doughter  sende 
And  praide  her  for  to  make  an  ende 
And  write  ayein  her  owne  honde, 
Right  as  she  in  her  herte'  fonde. 

"The  billes  weren  well  received, 
But  she  hath  all  her  loves  weived 
And  thoughte  tho  was  time  and  space 
To  put  her  in  her  faders  grace 
And  wrote  ayein  and  thus  she  saide : 

'  The  shame  which  is  in  a  maide 
With  speche  dare  nought  beunloke, 
But  in  writing  it  may  be  spoke. 
So  write  I  to  you,  fader,  thus, 
But  if  I  have  Appollinus, 
Of  all  this  world  what  so  betide 
I  woll  non  other  man  abide. 
And  certes  if  I  of  him  faile 
I  wot  right  well  without^  faile 
Ye  shull  for  me  be  doughterles.' 
This  letter  came,  and  there  was  pres 
To-fore  the  king  there  as  he  stode. 
And  whan  that  he  it  understode, 
He  yave  hem  answere  by  and  by. 
But  that  was  done  so  privdly, 
That  none  of  others  counseil  wiste. 
They  toke  her  leve,  and  where  hem 

liste, 
They  wente  forth  upon  her  wey. 

"  The   king    ne    wolde    nought 

bewrey 

The  counseil  for  no  maner  high,1 
But  suffreth  till  he  time  sigh. 

,  for  hie,  haste. 
2  D 


4i8 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  whan  that  he  to  chambre  is 

come, 

He  hath  unto  his  counseil  nome 
This  man  of  Tire  and  lete  him  se 
The  letter,  and  all  the  privetd 
The  which  hisdoughter  tohimsente. 
And  he  his  kne  to  grounde  bente 
And  thonketh  him  and  her  also. 
And  er  they  wenten  than  a  two 
With  good  herte  and  with  good 

corage 

Of  full  love  and  full  manage 
The  kingeand  he  ben  holeaccorded. 
And  after,  whan  it  was  recorded 
Un,to  the  doughter  how  it  stood, 
The  yifte  of  all  this  worldes  good 
Ne  shuld  have  made  her  half  so 

blithe. 

And  forth  withall  the  kingealss  withe, 
For  he  woll  have  her  good  assent, 
Hath  for  the  quene  her  moder  sent. 
The  quene  is  come,  and  whan  she 

herde 

Of  this  matere  how  that  it  ferde, 
She  sigh  debate  she  sigh  disese 
But  if  she  wolde  her  doughter  plese, 
And  is  therto  assented  ful, 
Whiche  is  a  dede  wonderful, 
For  no  man  knew  the  sothe  cas, 
But  he  him  self,  what  man  he  was. 
And  netheles  so  as  hem  thought 
His  dedes  to  the  sothe  wrought, 
That  he  was  come  of  gentil  blood, 
Him  lacketh  nought  but  worldes 

good, 

And  as  therof  is  no  despeire, 
For  she  shall  be  her  faders  heire 
And  he  was  able  to  governe, 
Thus  woll  they  nought  the  love  werne1 
Of  him  and  hire  by  no  wise, 
But  all  accorded  they  devise 
The  day  and  time  of  manage, 
Where  love  is  lorde  of  the  corage. 
H  im  thenketh  longe  er  that  he  spede, 

i  Weriu,  forbid. 


But  atte  laste  unto  the  dede 
The  time  is  come,  and  in  her  wise 
With  great  offrcnd  and  sacrifice 
They  wedcle  and  make  a  riche  fest, 
And  every  thing  was  right  honest 
Withinne  hous  and  eke  without. 
It  was  so  done,  that  all  about 
Of  great  worship  and  great  noblesse 
There  cried  many  a  man  largesse 
Unto  the  lordes  high  and  loude. 
The  knightes,  that  ben  yonge  and 

proude, 

They  jeste  l  first  and  after  daunce. 
The  day  is  go,  the  nightes  chaunce 
Hath  derked  all  the  brighte  sonne. 
This  lord  hath  thus  his  love  vvonne. 
"  Now  have  I  tolde  of  the  spou- 

sailes. 

But  for  to  speke  of  the  merveiles, 
Which  afterward  to  hem  befelle, 
It  is  a  wonder  for  to  telle. 

"  It  fell  a  day  they  riclen  out 
Thekingeandquene  and  all  the  rout 
To  pleien  hem  upon  the  stronde, 
Where  as  they  seen  to  ward  the  londe 
A  ship  sailend  of  great  array  ; 
To  knowe  what  it  mene  may, 
Till  it  be  come  they  abide. 
Than  se  they  stonde  on  every  side 
Endlong  the  shippds  bord  to  shewe 
Of  penouncels  a  riche  rewe. 
Theyaxen  uhenne  the  ship  is  come. 
Fro  Tire,  anone  answerde  some. 
And  over  this  they  saiden  more 
The  cause  why  they  comen  fore 
Was  for  to  seche  and  for  to  findc 
Appollinus,  which  is  of  kinde 
Her  lege  lord.     And  he  appereth 
And  of  the  tale  whiche  he  hereth 
Hewasrightglad,  forthey him  tolde, 
Thatforvengeaunce,as  God  it  wolde, 
Antiochus  as  men  may  wite 
With  thunder  and  lightning  is  for- 
smite. 

1  Jcstc,  joust. 


BOOK  VIII. 


419 


1 1  is  doushter  hath  the  same  chauncc. 
So  be  they  both  in  o  balaunce. 
Forthy,  our  lege  lord,  we  say 
I  n  name  of  all  the  lond  and  pray, 
That  left  all  other  thing  to  done 
It  like  you  to  come  sone 
And  se  your  owne  lege  men 
With  other  that  ben  of  your  ken 
That  live  in  longing  and  desire 
Till  ye  be  come  ayein  to  Tiro. 
This  tale  after  the  king  it  had 
Pcntapolim  all  ovcrsprad. 
There  was  no  joie  for  to  secla-, 
For  every  man  it  had  in  specht- 
And  saiden  all  of  one  accorde  : 
*  A  worthy  king  shall  ben  our  lorde ; 
That  thought  us  first  an  hevinesse 
Is  shape  us  now  to  great  gladne'sse.' 
Thus  goth  the  tiding  over  all. 

'•But  nede  he  mot  that nede shall. 
Appollinus  his  leve  toke, 
To  God  and  all  the  lond  betoke  ] 
With  all  the  people longe  andbrode, 
That  he  no  lenger  there  abode. 

*'  The  king  and  queue  sorwe made, 
But  yet  somdele  they  weren  glade 
Of  such  thing  as  they  herden  tho. 
And  thus  bctwene  the  wele  and  wo 
To  ship  he  goth,  his  wife  with  childe, 
The  which  was  ever  meke  and  milde 
And  wolde  nought  departe  him  fro, 
Such  love  was  betwene  hem  two. 
Lichorida  for  her  office 
Was  take,  which  was  a  norice, 
To  wende  with  this  yonge  wife, 
To  whom  was  shape  a  wofull  life. 
Within  a  time,  as  it  betid, 
Whan  they  were  in  the  see  amid, 
Out  of  the  north  they  sigh  a  cloude, 
The  storme  aros,  the  windes  loude 
They  blewen  many  a  dredefull  blast, 
The  welken  was  all  overcast. 
The  derke  night  the  sonne    hath 
under, 

commended,  entrusted. 


There    was    a    great    tempest    of 

thunder. 

The  mone  and  eke  the  sterre's  bothe 
In  blacke  cloudes  they  hem  clothe, 
Wherof  her  brighte  loke  they  hide. 
This  yongd  lady  wept  and  cride 
To  whom  no  comfort  might  availc, 
Of  childe  she  began  travaile 
Where  she  lay  in  a  caban  close. 
Her  wofull  lord  fro  her  arose, 
And  that  was  long  er  any  morwe, 
So  that  in  anguish  and  in  sorwe 
She  was  delivered  all  by  night 
And  deiede  in  every  mannes  sight. 

"  But  netheles  for  all  this  wo 
A  maide  child  was  bore  tho. 

"Appollinus  whan  he  this  knewe, 
For  sorwe  a  swoune  he  overthrewe 
That  no  man  wist  in  him  no  life. 
And  whan  he  woke,  lie  saide:   (Ha, 

wife, 

My  joy,  my  lust  and  my  desire, 
M^y  welth  and  my  recoverire, 
Why  shall  I  live,  and  thoushaltdeie  ? 
Ha,  thou  Fortune,  I  the  defie, 
Now  hast  thou  do  to  me  thy  werst. 
Ha,  herte,  why  ne  wolt  thou  berst, 
That  forth  with  her  I  mighte  passe  ? 
My  paines  were  well  the  lasse. 
In  such  weping  and  suche  crie 
His  dede  wife  which  lay  him  by 
A  thousand  sithes  he  her  kiste, 
Was  never  man  that  sigh  ne  wi=le 
A  sorwe  to  his  sorwe  liche, 
Was  ever  among  upon  the  liche.1 
He  fell  swoune'ndeashe  that  thought 
His  owne  deth,  which  he  besought 
Unto  the  goddes  all  above 
With  many  a  pitous  word  of  love. 
But  suche  worde's  as  tho  were 
Yet  herde  never  mannes  ere, 
But  only  thilke  which  he  saide. 
The  maister   shipman   came   and 
praide 

1  The  lichc,  the  body  (of  hib  dead  wife), 


420 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


With  other  such  as  ben  therinne, 
And  sain  that  he  may  nothing  winne 
Ayein  the  deth,  but  they  him  rede 
He  be  well  ware  and  take  hede, 
The  see  by  wey  of  his  nature 
Receive  may  no  creature 
Within  him  self  as  for  to  holde 
The  which  is  dede.      Forthy  they 

wolde, 

As  they  counseilen  all  about, 
The  dede  body  casten  out. 
For  better  it  is,  they  saiden  all, 
That  it  of  hire  so  befall, 
Than  if  they  shulden  alle  spille. 
"  The  king,   which   understode 

her  will 
And  knew  her  counseil  that  was 

trewe, 

Began  ayein  his  sorwe  newe 
With  pitous  hert  and  thus  to  say  : 
( It  is  all  reson  that  ye  pray. 
I  am,'  quod  he,  '  but  one  alone, 
So  wolde  I  nought  for  my  persone 
There  felle  such  adversite. 
But  whan  it  may  no  better  be 
Doth  thanne  thus  upon  my  worde, 
Let  make  a  coffre  stronge  of  borde, 
That  it  be  firm  with  led  and  piche.' 
Anone  was  made  a  coffre  siche 
All  redy  brought  unto  his  honde. 
And  whan  he  sighe  and  redy  fonde 
This  coffre  made  and  well  englued, 
The  ded<5  body  was  besewed 
In  cloth  of  gold  and  laid  therinne. 
And  for  he  wolde  unto  her  winne 
Upon  some  coste l  a  sepulture, 
Under  her  heved  in  adventure 
Of  gold  he  laide  somme's  great 
And  of  juels  a  strong  beyete 
Forth  with  a  letter,  and  said  thus  : 

'  I,  king  of  Tire,  Appollinus 
Doth  alle  maner  men  .to  wite, 
That  here  and  se  this  letter  write, 
That  helpeles  withoute  rede 

1  Coste>  toast. 


Here  lith  a  kinges  doughter  dede, 
And  who  that  hap.neth  her  to  finde 
For  charite  take  in  his  minde 
And  do  so  that  she  be  begrave 
With  this  tresor  which  he  shal  have.' 
<;  Thus  whan  the  letter  was  full 

spoke, 

They  have  anone  the  coffre  stoke 
And  bounden  it  with  iron  faste, 
That  it  may  with  the  wawes  laste, 
And  stoppen  it  by  such  a  wey 
That  it  shall  be  withinne  drey, 
So  that  no  water  might  it  greve. 
And  thus  in  hope  and  good  beleve 
Of  that  the  corps  shall  well  arrive, 
They  cast  it  over  borde  as  blive. 
(i  The  ship  forth  on  the  wawes 

went. 

Theprincehathchaungedhisentent, 
And  saith,  he  woll  nought  come  at 

Tire 

As  thanne,  but  all  his  desire 
Is  first  to  sailen  unto  Tharse. 
The  windy  storm  began  to  scarse, 
The  sonne  arist,  the  weder  clereth, 
The  shipmanwhichbehinde  stereth, 
Whan  that  he  sigh  the  windes  sang  lit, 
Towardes    Tharse   his    cours    he 

straught. 

"  But  now  to  my  matere  ayein, 
To  telle  as  olde  bokes  sain 
This  dede  corps  of  whiche  ye  knowe 
With  winde  and  water  was  forth 

throwe, 

Now  here,  now  there,  till  atte  last 
At  Ephesim  the  see  upcast 
The  coffre  and  all  that  was  therinne. 
Of  great  merveile  now  beginne 
May  here  who  that  sitteth  still. 
That  God  woll  save  may  nought  spill . 
Right  as  the  corps  was  throwe  a 

londe, 

There  cam  walkend  upon  the  stronde 
A  worthy  clerke  and  surgien 
And  eke  a  great  phisicien, 


BOOK  VIII. 


421 


Of  all  that  loncl  the  wisest  one, 
Which  highte  maister  Cerimon. 
There  were  of  his  disciples  some. 
This  maister  is  to  the  coffre  come, 
He  peiseth  there  was  somvvhat  in 
And  bad  hem  here  it  to  his  inne, 
And  goth  him  selv^  forth  with  all. 
All  that  shall  falle,  falle  shall. 
"They  comen   home  and  tarie 

nought. 
This    coffre    into   his    chambre  is 

brought, 

Which  that  they  finde  faste  stoke, 
But  they  with  craft  it  have  unloke. 
They  loken  in,  whereas  they  founde, 
A  body  dede,  which  was  i \vounde 
In  cloth  of  gold,  as  I  said  ere. 
The  tresor  eke  they  founden  there 
Forth  with  the  letter,  which  they  rede. 
And  tho  they  token  better  hede. 
Unsowe'd  was  the  body  sone, 
As  he  that  knewe  what  was  to  done, 
This  noble  clerk  with  alle  haste 
Began  the  veined  for  to  taste.1 
And  sigh  her  age  was  of  youthe  ; 
And   with   the    craftes    which    he 

couthe 

He  sought  and  found  a  signe  of  life. 
With  that  this  worthy  kinge's  wife 
Honestely  they  token  out 
And  maden  fires  all  about. 
They  laid  her  on  a  couchd  softe, 
And  with  a  shele*  warmed  ofte 
Her  colde*  brest  began  to  hete, 
Her  herte  also  to  flacke2  and  bete. 
This  maister  hath  her  every  jointe 
With  certain  oil  andbalsmeanointe, 
And  put  a  liquour  in  her  mouthe 
Which  is  to  fewe  clerkes  couthe, 
So  that  she  covereth  attd  laste. 
And  first  her  eyen  up  she  caste, 
And  whan  she  more  of  strength^ 

caught, 
Her  armds  bothe  forth  she  straught, 

1  Taste,  try  by  touch.  '-  Flacke,  flutter. 


Held  up  her  hond  and  pitously 
She  spake  and  saide :  'Where  am  I  ? 
Where  is  my  lord,  what  world  is 

this  ? ' 

As  she  that  wot  nought  how  it  is. 
But  Cerimon  that  worthy  leche 
Answerde  anone  upon  her  speche 
And  said:  'Madame,  ye  ben  here, 
Where  ye  be  sauf,  as  ye  shall  here 
Hereaftervvard,  forthy  as  now 
My  counseil  is,  comf6rteth  you. 
For  tristeth  wel,  withoute  faile, 
There  is  no  thing  which  shall  you 

faile, 

That  ought  of  reson  to  be  do.' 
Thus  passen  they  a  day  or  two; 
They  speke  of  nought  as  foranende, 
Till  she  began  somdele  amende, 
And  wist  her  selven  what  she  mente. 
"Tho  for   to    knowe   her  hole 

entente 

This  maister  axeth  all  the  cas, 
How  she  cam  there,  and  what  she 

was. 

'  How  I  came  here,  wote  I  nought/ 
Quod  she,  '  but  wel  I  am  bethought 
Of  other  thinges  all  about 
Fropoint  to  point/ andtoldehim  out 
Als  ferforthly  as  she  it  wiste. 
And  he  her  tolde  how  in  a  kiste 
The  see  her  threwe  upon  the  londe, 
And  what  tresor  with  her  he  fonde, 
Which  was  all  redy  at  her  will, 
As  he  that  shope  him  to  fulfill 
With  al  his  might  what  thing  he 

shuld. 

She  thonketh  him  that  he  so  wolde, 
And  all  her  herte  she  discloseth 
And  saith  him  well  that  she  sup- 

poseth, 

Her  lord  be  dreint,  her  childe  also. 
So  sigh  she  nought  but  alle  wo. 
Wherof  as  to  the  world  no  more 
Xc  woll  she  torne  and  praieth  ther- 

fore, 


422 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  in  some  temple  of  the  citee 
To  kepe  and  holde  her  chastete 
She  might  among  the  women  dwelle. 
Whan  he  this  tale  herde  telle 
He  was  right  glad,  and  made  her 

knowen 

That  he  a  doughter  of  his  owen 
Hath,  which  he  woll  unto  her  yive 
To  serve  while  they  bothe  live, 
In  stede  of  that  which  shehath  loste; 
All  only  at  his  owne  coste 
She  shall  be  rendred  forth  with  her. 
She  saith,  '  Graunt  mercy,  leve  sir, 
God  quite  it  you,  there  I  ne  may.' 
And  thus  they  drive  forth  the  day 
Till  time  cam  that  she  was  hole. 
And  tho  they  take  her  coimseil  hole 
To  shape  upon  good  ordenaunce 
And  make  a  worthy  purveaimce 
Ayein  the  day  whan  they  be  veiled. 
And    thus   whan    that    they    were 

counseiled, 

In  blacke  clothes  they  hem  clothe 
This  lady  and  the  doughter  bothe 
And  yolde  hem  to  religion. 
The  feste  and  the  profession 
After  the  reule  of  that  degre 
Was  made  with  great  solempnite, 
Where  as  Diane  is  sanctified. 
Thus  stant  this  lady  justified 
In    ordre  where    she  thenketh  to 

dwelle. 

"  But  now  ayeinward  for  to  telle, 
In  what  plite  that  her  lord  stood  inne. 
He  saileth  till  that  he  may  winne 
The  haven  of  Tharse,as  I  saide  ere. 
And  whan  he  was  arrived  there, 
Tho  it  was  through  the  cite  knowe, 
Men  mighte  se  within  a  throwe 
As  who  saith  all  the  towne  at  ones. 
They  come  ayein  him  for  the  nones 
To  yiven  him  the  reverence, 
So  glad  they  were  of  his  presence. 
And  though  he  were  in  his  cordge 
Disesed,  yet  with  glad  visage 


He  made  hemchere  and  to  his  inne, 
Where  he  whilom  sojourned  in, 
He    goth    him    straught   and  was 

received. 
And  whan  the  press  of  people  is 

weived, 

He  taketh  his  host  unto  him  tho 
And  saith,  *  My  frend  Strangulio, 
Lo  thus  and  thus  it  is  befalle. 
And  thou  thy  self  art  one  of  alle, 
Forth  with  thy  wife,  which  I  most 

trist, 

Forthy  if  it  you  bothe  list, 
My  doughter  Thaise  by  your  leve 
I  thenke  shall  with  you  beleve 
As  for  a  time,  and  thus  I  pray 
That  she  be  kept  by  alle  way, 
And  whan  she  hath  of  age  more, 
That  she  be  set  to  bokes  lore. 
And  this  avow  to  God  I  make, 
That  I  shall  never  for  her  sake 
My  berde  for  no  liking  shave 
Till  it  befalle  that  I  have 
In  covenable  time  of  age 
Besette  her  unto  maria~ge. 

"Thus  they  accorde,  and  all  ij 

well. 

And  for  to  resten  him  somdele 
Yet  for  a  while  he  ther  sojorneth, 
And  than  he  taketh  his  leve  ami 

torneth 

To  ship  and  goth  him  home  to  Tire, 
Where  every  man  with  great  desire 
Awaiteth  upon  his  comfng. 
But  whan  the  ship  cam  in  sailing 
And  they  perceiven  it  is  he, 
Was  never  yet  in  no  citee 
Such  joie  made,  as  they  tho  made. 
His  hert  also  began  to  glade 
Of  that  he  seeth  his  people  glad. 
Lo,  thus  Fortune  his  hap  hath  lad, 
In  sondry  wise  he  was  travailed. 
But  how  so  ever  he  be  assailed, 
His  latter  ende  shall  be  good. 
"And  for  to  speke  how  that  it  stocd 


I'll  I. 


4*3 


Of  Thaisc  his  doughtcr,  \\her  she 

chvcllcth, 

In  Tharse  as  the  cronique  tellcth 
She  was  well  kept, she  was  wellloked, 
She  was  wel  taught,  she  was  \vel 

boked, 

So  well  she  sped  her  in  her  youth 
That  she  of  every  wisdom  couth, 
That  for  to  seche  in  every  londc 
So  wise  an  other  no  man  fonde 
Ne  so  well  taught  at  mannes  eye. 
But  wo  worth  ever  false  envy. 
For  it  befell  that  time*  so, 
A  doughter  hath  Strangulio, 
The  which  was  cleped  Philotenne. 
But  Fame,  which  woll  ever  renne, 
Came  all  day  to  her  moders  ere 
And  saith,  wher  ever  her  doughter 

were 

With  Thaise  set  in  any  place 
The  commun  vois  the  commun  grace 
Was  all  upon  that  other  maide, 
And  of  her  doughter  no  man  saide. 
Who  was  wroth  but  Dionise'  than  ? 
Her  thought  a  thousand  yere  till 

whan 

She  mighte"  be  of  Thaise  wreke 
Of  that  she  herde  folk  so  speke. 
And  fell  that  ilke  same  tide, 
That  dede  was  trewe  Lichoride 
Whiche    haddc*    be    ser vaunt    to 

Thaise, 

So  that  she  was  the  wors  at  ese. 
For  she  hath  thanne  no  servfse 
But  onely  through  this  Dionise 
Which  was  her  dedlich  enemy. 
Through  pure*  treson  and  envy- 
She  that  of  alle  sorwe  can 
Tho  spake  unto  her  bondeman 
Which  cleped  was  Theophilus 
And  made  him  swere  in  counseil 

thus, 

That  he  such  time  as  she  him  set 
Shall  come  Thaise  for  to  fet 
And  lede  her  out  of  alle  sight 


Where  that  no  man  her  helpc  might 
Upon  the  strondc  nigh  the  see. 
And  there  he  shall  this  maiden  slee. 
This  cherles  hert  is  in  a  traunce, 
As  he  which  drad  him  of  vengeaiince 
Whan  time  comth  an  other  day. 
But  yet  durst  he  nought  saie  nay, 
But  swore  and  said  he  shall  fulfill 
Her  heste's  at  her  owne  will. 

"Thetresonandthetime  is  shape, 
So  fell  it  that  this  cherlish  knape ! 
Hath  lad  this  maiden  where  he  wold 
Upon  the  stronde,  and  what  she 

sholde 

She  was  adrad,  and  he  out  braide 
A  rusty  swerde  and  to  her  saide : 
1  Thou  shalt  be  dede.'  'Alas,' 

quod  she, 

'  Why  shall  I  so  ?'  '  Lo  thus,'quodhe, 
*  My  lady  Dionise  hath  bede, 
Thou  shalt  be  murdred  in  this  stede.' 
This  maiden  tho  for  fer£  shrighte 
And  for  the  love  of  God  Allmiglue 
She  praith  that  for  a  litel  stounde 
She  mighte  knele  upon  the  grounde 
Toward  the  heven  for  to  crave, 
Her  wofull  soule  if  she  may  save. 
And  with  this  noise  and  with  this  cry, 
Out  of  a  barge  faste  by, 
Which  hid  was  there  on  scomer-fare,- 
Men  sterten  out  and  weren  ware 
Of  this  felon,  and  he  to  go, 
And  she  began  to  crie  tho, 
'Ha,  mercy,  help  for  Goddes  sake.' 
Into  the  barge  they  her  take. 
As  theves  shulde,and  forth  they  went. 
Upon  the  see  the  wind  hem  hent 
Andmalgrewheretheywoldeornonc 
To-fore  the  weder  forth  they  gone, 
Therehalp  nosailthere  halp  noneore 
Forstorme'd  and  forblowen  sore 

1  Knafa  lad. 

*-  Scotner-fare,  'for  lyinj;  in  wait  in  creeks 
from  some  word  having  its  root  in  sai  or  sen, 
to  cover  and  conceal,  whence  skua,  sceddo, 
shadow  ? 


424 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


In  great  peril  so  forth  they  drive, 

Till  atte  laste  they  arrive 

At  Mitele'ne  the  citee. 

In  haven  sauf  and  whan  they  be 

The    maister    shipman  made  him 

boune 1 

And  goth  him  out  into  the  towne 
And  profreth  Thaise  for  to  selle. 
One  Leonin  it  herdd  telle, 
Which  maister  of  the  bordel  was, 
And  bad  him  gon  a  redy  pas 
To  fecchen  her,  and  forth  he  went 
And  Thaise  out  of  his  barge  he  hent 
And  solde  her  to  the  bordel  tho. 
No  wonder  is  though  she  be  wo 
Clos  in  a  chambre  by  her  self. 
Eche  after  other  ten  or  twelf 
Of  yonge  men  in  to  her  went. 
But  suche  a  grace  God  her  sent, 
That  for  the  sorwe  which  she  made, 
Was  none  of  hem  which  power  had 
To  done  her  any  vilainy. 

"  This  Leonin  let  ever  aspy 
And  waiteth  after  great  beyete, 
But  all  for  nought,  she  was  forlete, 
That  no  man  wolde  there  come. 
Whan  he  therof  hath  hede  nome 
He  sent  his  man,  but  so  it  ferde, 
Whan  he  her  wofull  pleintes  herde 
And  he  therof  hath  take  kepe, 
Him  liste  better  for  to  wepe 
Than  don  ought  elles  to  the  game. 
And  thus  she  kepte  her  self  fro  shame 
And  kneled  down  to  therthe  and 

praide 
Unto  this  man  and  thus  she  saide  : 

'  If  so  be,  that  thy  maister  wolde 
That  I  his  gold  encrese  sholde 
It  may  nought  falle'  by  this  wey, 
But  suffre  me  to  go  my  wey 
Out  of  this  hous  where  I  am  in, 
And  I  shall  make  him- for  to  win 
In  some  place  elles  of  the  town, 
Be  so  it  be  of  religioun, 

*  Boune,  ready. 


Where  that  honeste  women  dwelle. 
And  thus  thou  might  thy  maister 

telle, 

That  whan  I  have  a  chambre  there 
Let  him  do  cry  ay  wide  where, 
What  lord  that  hath  his  doughter 

dere 

And  is  in  will  that  she  shall  lere 
Of  such  a  scolc  that  is  trewe, 
I  shall  her  teche  of  thinges  newe 
Whiche  as  none  other  woman  can 
In  all  this  londe.'  And  tho  this  man 
Her  tale  hath  herde  he  goth  ayein 
And  tolde  unto  his  maister  plein, 
That  she  hath  saide.  Andtherupon, 
Whan  that  he  sigh  beyete  none 
At  the  bordel  because  of  hire, 
He  bad  his  man  to  gon  and  spire 
A  place  where  she  might  abide, 
That  he  may  winne  upon  some  side 
By  that  she  can.      But  atte  lest 
Thus  was  she  sauf  of  this  tempest. 
"  He  hath  her  fro  the  bordel  take, 
But  that  was  nought  for  Goddes 

sake, 

But  for  the  lucre,  as  she  him  tolde. 
Now  comen  tho  that  comen  wolde, 
Of  women  in  her  lusty  youth 
To  here  and  sewhat  thing  she  couth. 
She  can  the  wisdome  of  a  clerke, 
She  can  of  any  lusty  werke 
Which  to  a  gentil  woman  longeth. 
And  some  of  hem  she  underfongeth 
To  the  citole  and  to  the  harpe, 
And  whom  it  liketh  for  to  carpe 
Proverbes  and  demaundes  sligh 
An  other  such  they  never  sigh 
Which  that  science  so  well  taught, 
Wherof  she  grete  yiftes  caught, 
That  she  to  Leonin  hath  wonne. 
And  thus  her  name  is  so  begonne 
Of  sondry  thinges  that  she  techeth, 
That  all  the  londe  to  her  secheth 
Of  yonge'  women  for  to  lere. 

"  Now  lette  we  this  maiden  here 


BOOK  VIII. 


425 


And  speke  of  Dionisc  ayeine 
And  of  Theophile  the  vilaine 
Of  which  I  spake  of  now  to-fore, 
Whan  Thaise  shulde  havebeforlore. 
This  false  cherle  to  his  lady 
Whan  he  cam  home  all  prively, 
He  saith,  '  Madame,  slain  I  have 
This  maide  Thaise,  and  is  begrave 
In  prive  place,  as  ye  me  bede. 
Forthy,  madame,  taketh  hede 
And    kepe    counseil,    how    so    it 

stonde.' 
This  fend,  which  hath  this  under- 

stonde, 

Was  glad  and  weneth  it  be  soth. 
Now  herke,  hereafter  how  she  doth. 
She  wepeth,  she  sorweth,  she  com- 

pleigneth, 

And  of  sikenesse*  which  she  feigneth, 
She  saith,  that  Thaise*  sodeinly 
By  night  is  dede,  as  she  and  I 
To-gider  lien  nigh  my  lorde. 
She  was  a  woman  of  recorde, 
And  all  is  leved  that  she  saith. 
And  for  to  yive  a  more  feith, 
Her  husebonde  and  eke  she  bothe 
In  blacks'  clothes  they  hem  clothe, 
And  make  a  great  enterrement. 
And  for  the  people  shall  be  blent 
Of  Thaise  as  for  the  remembraunce, 
After  the  real l  olde  usaunce 
A  tumbe  of  laton  noble  and  riche 
With  an  ymdge  unto  her  liche 
Liggdnd  above"  therupon 
They  made  and  set  it  up  anon. 
Her  epitaphe  of  good  assise 
Was  write  about,  and  in  this  wise 
It  spake  :   '  O  ye,  that  this  beholde, 
Lo,  here  lieth  she,  the  which  was 

holde 

The  fairest  and  the  floure  of  alle, 
Whose  name"  Thaisis  men  calle. 
The  king  of  Tire  Appollinus 
Her  fader  was,  now  lieth  she  thus. 

,  regal. 


Fourtene  yere  she  was  of  age. 
Whan  deth  her  toke  to  his  viage.' 

Thus  was  this  false  treson  hid, 
Which  afterward  was  wide*  kid, 
As  by  the  tale  a  man  shall  here. 
But  to  declare  my  matere 
To  Tire  I  thenkd  torne  ayein 
|  And  telle  as  the  cronfques  sain. 
Whan  that  the  king  was  comen  home 
And  hath  left  in  the  sake  fome 
His   wife    which   he   may  nought 

foryete, 

For  he  some  comfort  wolde*  gete 
He  let  sommone  a  parlement, 
To  which  the  lordes  were  assent.1 
And  of  the  time  he  hath  ben  out, 
He  seeth  the  thinges  all  about ; 
And  toldehemeke,howhe  hath  fare, 
While  he  was  out  of  londe  fare, 
And  praide  hem  alle  to  abide, 
For  he  wolde  at  the  same"  tide 
Do  shape  for  his  wives  minde2 
As  he  that  woll  nought  ben  unkinde. 
Solempne  was  that  ilke  office, 
And  riche'  was  the  sacrifice, 
The  feste*  really  a  was  holde. 
And  therto  was  he  well  beholde  : 
For  suche  a  wife  as  he  had  one 
In  thilke  daies  was  there  none. 

"  Whan  this  was  done,  than  he 

him  thought 

Upon  his  doughter,  and  besought 
Such  of  his  lorde's  as  he  wolde, 
That  they  with  him  toTharse  sholde 
To  fet  his  doughter  Thaise"  there, 
And  they  anone  all  redy  were. 
To  ship  they  gone  and  forth  they  went 
Till  they  the  haven  of  Tharse  hem. 
They  londe  and  faile  of  that  they 

seche, 

By  coverture  and  sleight  of  speche. 
This  false  man  Strangulio 
And  Dionise  his  wife  also, 

1  Assent,  summoned. 
-  In  memory  of  his  wife. 
3  Rcdlly,  royally. 


426 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  he  the  better  trowe  might, 
They  ladden  him  to  have  a  sight, 
Where  that  her  tombe  was  arraied, 
The  lasse  yet  he  was  mispaied. 
And  netheles  so  as  he  durst, 
He  curseth  and  saith  all  the  worst 
Unto  Fortune,  as  to  the  blinde, 
Which  can  no  siker  weie  finde, 
For  she  him  neweth  ever  amonge 
And  medleth  sorwe  with  his  songe. 
But  sithe  it  may  no  better  be, 
He  thonketh  God  and  forth  goth  he 
Sailende  toward  Tire  ayeine. 
But  sodeinly  the  winde  and  reine 
Began  upon  the  see  debate, 
So  that  he  suffre  mote  algate 
The    lawe,    which     Neptune 

deineth, 

Wherof  full  ofte  time  he  pleigneth 
And  held  him  wel  the  more  esmaied 
Of  that  he  hath  to-fore  assaied. 
So  that  for  pure  sorwe  and  care 
Of  that  he  seeth  this  world  so  fare, 
The  reste  he  leveth  of  his  cabdn, 
That  for  the  counseil  of  no  man 
Ayein  therin  he  nolde  come 
But  hath  beneth  his  place  nome, 
Where  he  wepend  allone  lay 
There  as  he  sigh  no  light  of  day. 

"And  thus  to-fore  the  wind  they 

drive 

Till  longe  and  late  they  arrive 
With  great  distresse,  as  it  was  sene, 
Upon  this  town  of  Mitelene, 
Which  was  a  noble  cite  tho. 
And  happneth  thilke  time  so, 
The  lordes  both  and  the  commune 
The  highe  festes  of  Neptune 
Upon  the  strond  at  the  rivage, 
As  it  was  custume  and  usage, 
Solempneliche  they  besigh. 

"  Whan  they  this  stra.unge  vessel 

sigh 
Come  in,  and  hath  his  saile  avaled,1 

1  Avaled,  lowered. 


The  town  therof  hath  spoke  and 

talecl. 

The  lord  which  of  that  cite  was, 
Whose  name  is  Athenagoras, 
Was  there  and  said,  he  wolde  se 
What  ship  it  is,  and  who  they  be 
That  ben  therin.     And  after  sone, 
Whan  that  he  sigh  it  was  to  done, 
His  barge  was  for  him  arraied, 
And  he  goth  forth  and  hath  assaied. 
He  found  the  ship  of  great  array, 
But  what  thing  it  amounte  may, 
He  sigh  they  maden  hevy  chere, 
But  well  him  thenketh  by  the  manere, 
That  they  be  worthy  men  of  blood, 
And  axeth  of  hem  how  it  stood. 
And  they  him  tellen  all  the  cas, 
How  that  her  lord  fordrive  was, 
And  what  a  sorwe  that  he  made 
Of  which  there  may  no  man  him 

glade. 

He  praieth  that  he  her  lord  may  se. 
But  they  him  tolde  it  may  nought  be, 
For  he  lith  in  so  derke  a  place 
That  there  may  no  wight  sen  his  face. 
But  for  all  that,  though  hem  be  loth, 
He  found  the  ladder  and. down  he 

goth 

And  to  him  spake,  but  none  answdr 
Ayein  of  him  ne  might  he  bere. 
For  ought  that  he  can  do  or  sain. 
And  thus  he  goth  him  up  ayein. 

"  Tho  was  there  spoke  in  many 

wise 

Amonges  hem  that  weren  wise, 
Now  this,  now  that,  but  atte  last 
The  wisdom  of  the  town  thus  cast, 
That  yonge'  Thaise  were  assent. 
For  if  there  be  amendement 
To  gladde  with  this  wofull  king, 
She  can  so  moch  of  every  thin- 
That  she  shall  gladen  him  anone. 

"A  messager  for  her  is  gone. 
And  she  came  with  her  harp  on  honde 
And  saide  hem,  that  she  wolde  fonde 


BOOK   VIII. 


427 


By  alle  weies  that  she  can, 
To  gladdi'-  with  this  sory  man. 
And  what  lie  was,  she  wiste  nought. 
Hut  all  the  ship  her  hath  besought 
That  she  her  wit  on  him  despendc 
In  aunter  if  he  might  amende, 
And  sain,  '  It  shall  be  well  aquit.' 
Whan  she  hath  understonden  it, 
She  goth  her  down,  there  as  he  lay, 
Where  that  she  harpeth  many  a  lay 
And  lich  an  aungel  sang  with  alle. 
But  he  no  more  than  the  walle 
Toke  hede  of  any  thing  he  herde. 
And  whan  she  sigh  that  he  so  ferde, 
She  falleth  with  him  unto  wordes, 
And  telleth  him  of  sondry  bordes, 
And  axeth  himdemaunde's  straunge 
Wherof  she  made  his  herte  chaunge, 
And  to  her  speche  his  ere  he  laide 
And  hath  merveile,  of  that  shesaide. 
For  in  proverbe  and  in  probleme 
She  spake  and  bade  he  shuldc'deme 
In  many  a  subtil  question. 
But  he  for  no  suggestion 
Which  toward  him  she  couthc  stere 
He  wolde  nought  o  word  answere, 
But  as  a  mad  man  atte*  laste, 
His  heved  weping  awey  he  caste 
And  hnlf  in  wrath  he  bad  her  go. 
But  yet  she  wolde  nought  do  so, 
And  in  the  derke  forth  she  goth, 
Till  she  him  toucheth,  and  he  wroth 
And  after  hire"  with  his  honde 
He  smote.     And  thus  whan  she 

him  fonde 

Disesed,  courteisly  she  saide  : 
'  Avoy  my  lorde,  I  am  a  maide. 
And  if  ye  wiste  what  I  am, 
And  out  of  what  lign^ge  I  cam, 
Ye  wolde  nought  be  so  salvage.' 
With  that  he  sobreth  his  cordge 
And  put  awey  his  hevy  chere. 
But  of  hem  two  a  man  may  lere, 
What  is  to  be  so  sibbe  of  blood. 
None  wist  of  other  how  it  stood, 


And  yet  the  fader  att(5  last 
His  herte  upon  this  maide'  cast, 
That  he  her  loveth  kinddly, 
And  yet  he  wiste"  never  why ; 
But  all  was  knoweer  that  they  went. 
For  God,  which  woteher  hole  entent, 
Her  hertds  both  anone  descloseth. 
This  king  unto  this  maide  opposeth 
And  axeth  first,  What  is  her  name, 
And  where  she  lerned  all  this  game, 
And  of  what  kin  that  she  was  come  ? 
And  she,  that  hath  his  worddsnome, 
Answereth  and  saith  :    '  My  name 

is  Thaise, 

That  was  sometime  well  at  ese. 
In  Tharse  I  was  forthdrawe  and 

fedde, 

There  lerned  I  till  I  was  spedde 
Of  that  I  can.      My  fader  eke 
I  not1  where  that  I  shulde  him  seke, 
He  was  a  king,  men  tolde  me. 
My  moder  dreint  was  in  the  see.' 
Fro  point  to  point  all  she  him  tolde, 
That  she  hath  longe  in  herte  holde, 
And  never  durste  make  her  mone, 
But  only  to  this  lord  allone, 
To  whom  her  herte"  can  nought  hele,2 
Torne  it  to  wo  torne  it  to  wele, 
Tome  it  to  good  torne  it  to  harme. 
And  he  tho  toke  her  in  his  arme. 
But  such  a  joy  as  he  tho  made 
Was  never  sene ;  thus  be  they  glade 
That  sory  hadden  be  to-forne. 
Fro  this  day  forth  Fortune  hath 

sworne 

To  set  him  upward  on  the  whele ; 

Sogoth  the  world ;  now  wo,  now  wele. 

"This   king  hath  foundd  newe 

grace, 

So  that  out  of  his  derke*  place 
He  goth  him  up  into  the  light. 
And  with  him  cam  that  swetd  wight 
H  is  doughterThaise,  and  forth  anone 
They  bothe  into  the  caban  gone 

1  J\v/,  know  not.  -  Ilclc,  conceal. 


428 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Which  was  ordeincd  for  the  kinge. 
And  there  he  did  of  all  his  thinge 
And  was  arraied  really, 
And  out  he  cam  all  openly 
Where  Athenagoras  he  fonde 
The   which   was   lorde  of  all  the 

londe. 

He  praieth  the  king  to  come  and  se 
His  castell  bothe  and  his  citee. 
And  thus  they  gone  forth  all  in  fere, 
This  king,  this  lord,  this  maiden 

dere. 

This  lord  tho  made  hem  riche  feste 
With     every     thing     which     was 

honeste 

To  plese  with  this  worthy  kinge, 
Ther  lacketh  hem  no  maner  thinge. 
But  yet  for  al  his  noble  array 
Wifeles  he  was  unto  that  day, 
As  he  that  yet  was  yonge  of  age. 
So  fell  there  into  his  corage 
The  lusty  wo,  the  gladde  peine 
Of  love  which  no  man  restreigne 
Yet  never  might  as  now  to -fore. 
This  lord  thenketh  all  his  world 

forlore 

But  if  the  king  woll  done  him  grace. 
He  waiteth  time  he  waiteth  place 
Him  thought  his  herte  woll  to-breke, 
Till  he  may  to  this  maide  speke 
And  to  her  fader  eke  also 
For  maridge.     And  it  fell  so, 
That  all  was  do,  right  as  he  thought, 
His  purpos  to  an  ende  he  brought, 
She  wedded  him  as  for  her  lorde  ; 
Thus  be  they  alle  of  one  accorde. 
"  Whan  al  was  do  right  as  they 

wolde, 

The  kinge  unto  his  sone  tolde 
Of  Tharse  thilkd  treterie, 
And  said,  how  in  his  compaignie 
His  doughter  and  him  selven  eke 
Shall  go  vengeaiince  for  to  seke. 
The  shippes  were  redy  sone. 
And  whan  they  sigh  it  was  to  done 


Withoute  let  of  any  went,1 
WTith  saile  up  drawe  forth  they  wente 
Towardes  Tharse  upon  the  tide. 
But  he  that  wot  what  shall  betide, 
The  highe  God  which  wolde  him 

kepe, 

Whan  that  this  kingwasfastea  slepe 
By  nightes  time  he  hath  him  bede 
To  saile  unto  another  stede ; 
To  Ephesim  he  bad  him  drawe, 
And  as  it  was  that  time  lawe, 
He  shall  do  there  his  sacrifice. 
And  eke  he  bad  in  alle  wise, 
That  in  the  temple  amonges  alle 
His  Fortune,  as  it  is  befalle, 
Touchend  his  doughter  and  his  wife 
He  shall  beknowe  upon  his  life. 
The  king  of  this  avisidn 
Hath  great  ymaginacion 
What  thinge  it  signifie  may. 
And  netheles  whan  it  was  day 
He  bad  cast  anker  and  abode. 
And  while  that  he  on  anker  rode, 
The    wind,     which     was     to -fore 

straunge, 

Upon  the  point  began  to  chaunge 
And  torneth  thider  as  it  shulde. 
Thoknewe  he  well,  that  God  it  wolde, 
And  bad  the  maistermake  him  yare, 
To-fore  the  wind  for  he  wold  fare 
To  Ephesim,  and  so  he  dede. 
And  whan  he  came  into  the  stede, 
Where  as  he  shuldd  londe,  he  londeth 
With  all  the  haste  he  may,  and 

fondeth 

To  shapen  him  in  suche  a  wise, 
That  he  may  by  the  morwe  arise 
And  done  after  the  maundement 
Of  him,  which  hath  him  thider  sent. 
And  in  the  wise  that  he  thought, 
Upon  the  morwe  so  he  wrought. 
His  doughter  and  his  sone  he  nome 
And  forth  unto  the  temple  he  come 

1  Let  of  any  -went,  hindrance  of  any  turning 
aside. 


BOOK  VIII. 


429 


With  a  great  route  in  compaigny 
His  yiftes  for  to  sacrify. 
The  citezeins  tho  herden  say 
Of  such  a  king  that  came  to  pray 
Unto  Diane  the  goddesse 
And  lefte  all  other  besinesse, 
They  comen  thider  for  to  se 
The  king  and  the  solempnite. 

"With  worthy  knightes  environed 
The  king  him  self  hath  abanddned 
Into  the  temple  in  good  entente. 
The  dore  is  up  and  in  he  wente, 
Whereas  with  great  devotion 
Of  holy  contemplacidn 
Within  his  hertehemnde  his  shrifte. 
And  after  that  a  richd  yifte 
He  offreth  with  great  reverence, 
And  there  in  open  audience 
Of  hem  that  stoden  all  about 
He  tolde  hem  and  declareth  out 
His  hap  such  as  him  is  befalle; 
There  was  no  thing  foryete  of  alle. 
His  wife,  as  it  was  Goddes  grace, 
Which  was  professed  in  the  place 
As  she  that  was  abbesse  there, 
Unto  his  tale  hath  laid  her  ere, 
She  knew  the  vois  and  the  visiige, 
For  purd  joy  as  in  a  rage 
She  straught  unto  him  all  at  ones 
And  fell  a  swoune  upon  the  stones 
Wherof  the  temple  flore  was  paved. 
She  was  anone  with  water  laved, 
Till  she  came  to  her  self  ayein. 
And  thannd  she  began  to  sain : 
'  1  la,  blessed  be  the  highe  sonde, 
That  I  may  se  min  husdbonde, 
Which  whilom  he  and  I  were  one.' 
The  king  with  that  knewe  her  anone 
And  toke  her  in  his  arme  and  kist, 
And  all  the  town  thus  sone  it  wist. 
Tho  was  there  joie  manyfold, 
For  every  man  this  tale  hath  told 
As  for  miracle,  and  were  glade. 
But  never  man  such  joie  made 
As  doth  the  king  which  hath  his  wife. 


And  whan  men  herde  how  that  her 

life 

Was  saved  and  by  whom  it  was, 
They  wondren  all  of  suche  a  cas. 
Through  all  the  londe  arose  the 

speche 

Of  maister  Cerimon  the  leche 
And  of  the  curd  which  he  dede. 
The  king  him  self  tho  hath  him  bede 
And  eke  this  quene  forth  with  him, 
That  he  the  town  of  Ephesim 
Woll  leve  and  go  where  as  they  be, 
For  never  man  of  his  degre 
Hath  do  to  hem  so  mochel  good. 
And  he  his  profite  understood 
And  graunteth    with    hem   for  to 

wende. 

And  thus  they  maden  there  anende 
And  token  leve  and  gone  to  ship 
With  all  the  hole  felaship. 

"  This  king,  which  now  hath  his 

desire, 

Saith  he  woll  holde  hiscours  to  Tire. 
They  hadden  wind  at  wille  tho 
With  topsail-cole,1  and  forth  they  go. 
And  striken  never  till  they  come 
To  Tire  wher  as  they  haven  nome, 
And  londen  hem  with  mochel  blisse. 
There  was  many  a  mouth  to  kisse, 
Eche  one  welcometh  other  home. 
But  whan  the  quene  to  londe  come 
And  Thaise  her  doughter  by  her  side, 
The  joie  which  was  thilke  tide 
There  may  no  mannes  tungd  telle. 
They  saiden  all,  'Here  cometh  the 

welle 

Of  alle  womanisshe  grace.' 
The  king  hath  take  his  real  place, 
The  quene  is  into  chambre  go ; 
There  was  great  feste  arraidd  tho. 
Whan  time  was  they  gone  to  mete, 
All  olde  sorwes  ben  foryete, 
And  gladen  hem  with  joies  newe. 
The  descoloured  pale  hewe 

1  See  note,  page  253. 


43° 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Is  now  become  a  ruddy  cheke, 
There  was  no  merthe  for  to  seke, 
But  every  man  hath  what  he  wolde, 
The  king  as  he  well  couthe   and 

sholde 
Maketh  to  his  people  right  good 

chere. 

And  after  sone,  as  thou  shalt  here, 
A  parlement  he  hath  sommoned, 
Where  he  his  doughter  hath  coroned 
Forth  with  the  lorde  of  Mitelene, 
That  one  is  king,  that  other  queue. 
And  thus  the  faders  ordenaunce 
This  londe  hath  set  in  governaunce, 
And  saide  that  he  wolde  wende 
To  Tharse  for  to  make  an  ende 
Of  that  his  doughter  was  betraied, 
Wherof  were  alle  men  well  paied, 
An.d  said,  how  it  was  for  to  done. 
"  The  shippes  weren  redy  sone. 
A  strong  power  with  him  he  toke, 
Up  to  the  sky  he  cast  his  loke 
And  sigh  the  wind  was  covenable. 
They  hale  up  anker  with  the  cable, 
They  sail  on  high,  the  stere  on  honde, 
They  sailen  till  they  come  a  londe 
At  Tharse  nigh  to  the  citee. 
And  whan  they  wisten  it  was  he, 
The  town  hath  done  him  reverence. 
He  telleth  hem  the  violence, 
Which  the  tretoiir  Strangu.lio 
And  Dionise  him  hadde  do 
Touchendehis  doughter.  as  ye  herde. 
And  whan  they  wiste  how  it  ferde, 
As  he  which  pees  and  love*  sought, 
Unto  the  town  this  he  besought 
To  done  him  right  in  jugement. 
Anone  they  were  both  assent 
With  strengthe  of  men,  and  comen 

sone, 

And  as  hem  thought  it  was  to  done, 
Atteint  they  were  by  the  lawe 
And  denied  for  to  honge  and  drawe 
And  brent  and  with  the  wind  to- 

blowe, 


That  all  the  world  it  mighle  knowe., 
And  upon  this  condicidn 
The  dome  in  execucion 
Was  put  anone  withoute  faile. 
And  every  man  hath  great  mervefle, 
Whiche  herde  tellenof  thischaunce, 
And  thonketh  Goddes  purveaunce, 
Which  doth  mercy  forthwith  justice. 
Slain  is  the  mordrer  and  mordrice 
Through    verray    trouth   of  right- 

wisnesse, 

And  through  mercy  sauf  is  simplesse 
Of  hire  whom  mercy  preserveth  ; 
Thus  hath  hewel  thatwel  deserveth. 
"  Whan  all  this  thing   is  done 

and  ended, 
This   king  which   loved   was   and 

frended, 

A  letter  hath,  which  came  to  him 
By  shippe  fro  Pentapolim, 
In  which  the  lond  hath  to  him  write 
That   he  wolde   understonde   and 

wite, 

How  in  good  minde  and  in  good  pecs 
Dede  is  the  kinge  Artestrates. 
Wherof  they  all  of  one  accordc 
Him  praiden,  as  her  legc  lorde, 
That  he  the  letter  wol  conceive 
And  come  his  regne  to  receive 
Which   God  hath  yove   him  and 

Fortune. 

And  thus  besoughte  the  commune 
Forth  with  the  grete  lordes  alle. 
This  king  sigh  how  it  was  befalle, 
Fro  Tharse  and  in  prosperite 
He  toke  his  leve  of  that  citee 
And  goth  him  into  ship  ayein. 
The  wind  was  good,  the  sewas  plein, 
Hem  nedeth  nought  a  riff  to  slake,1 
Till  they  Pentapolim  have  take. 
The  lond  which  herde  of  that  tiding 
WTas  wonder  glad  of  his  coming. 
He  resteth  him  a  day  or  two 
And  toke  his  counseil  to  him  tho 

1  To  slacken  u  reef. 


BOOK  VIII. 


43' 


And  set  a  time  of  parle'ment, 
Where  all  the  londe  of  one  assent 
Forth  with  his  wife  have  him  co- 

roned, 

Where  alle  good  him  was  foisoncd.1 
"  Lo,    what    it    is    to   be    well 

grounded. 

For  he  hath  first  his  love  founded 
Honestelich  as  for  to  wedde, 
Honcstelich  his  love  he  spedde 
And  hadde  children  with  his  wife, 
And  as  him  list  he  lad  his  life. 
And  in  ensaumple  his  life  was  write. 
That  alle  lovers  mighten  wite 
How  atte  last  it  shal  be  sene 
Of  love  what  they  wolden  mene. 
For  se  now,  on  that  other  side, 
Antiochus  with  all  his  pride 
Which  set  his  love  unkindely, 
His  ende  he  hadde  sodeinly 
Set  ayein  kinde  upon  vengeaiince, 
And  for  his  lust  hath  his  penaiince. 
"  Lo  thus,  my  sone,might  thou  lere, 
What  is  to  love  in  good  manere, 
And  what  to  love  in  other  wise. 
The  mede  nriseth  of  the  service, 
Fortune    though    she    be    nought 

stable, 

Yet  at  somtime  is  favourable 
To  hem  that  ben  of  lovd  trewe. 
But  carte's  it  is  for  to  rewe 
To  se  love  ayein  kinde  falle, 
For  that  maketh  sore  a  man  to  falle, 
As  thou  might  of  to-fore  rede. 
Forthy  my  sone,  I  wolde  rede 
To  let  all  other  love  awey, 
But  if  it  be  through  such  a  wey 
As  love  and  resou  wold  accorde." — 

"W£  frt&ev,howsothatitstonde, 
Your  tale  is  herde  and  understonde, 
As  thing  which  worthy  is  to  here, 
Of  great  ensample  and  gretematere, 
Wherof,  my  fader,  God  you  quite. 
But  in  this  point  my  self  aquite 

1  Poisoned^  poured  out  profusely. 


I  may  right  wel,  that  never  yit 
I  was  assoted  in  my  wit, 
I  Hit  onely  in  that  worthy  place 
Where  alle  lust  and  alle  grace 
Is  set,  if  that  Daunger  ne  were, 
But  that  is  all  my  moste  fere. 
I  not  what  ye  Fortune  accompte, 
But    what    thing    Daunger    may 

amounte 

I  wot  wel,  for  I  have  assaied. 
For  whan  min  hert  is  best  arraied 
And  I  have  all  my  wit  through  sought 
Of  love  to  beseche  her  ought, 
For  all  that  ever  I  skille  may 
I  am  concluded  with  a  nay, 
That  o  sillable  hath  over  throwe 
A  thousand  wordes  on  a  rowe 
Of  suche  as  I  best  speke  can, 
Thus  am  I  but  a  lewdc  man. 
But  fader,  for  ye  ben  a  clerke 
Of  love,  and  this  matere  is  derke 
And  I  can  ever  lengcr  the  lasse 
But  yet  I  may  nought  let  it  passe, 
Your  hole  counseil  I  beseche, 
That  ye  me  by  some  weie  teche, 
What  is  my  best,  as  for  an  ende."- 

"  My  sone,  unto  the  trouthewende 
Now  woll  I  for  the  love  of  the 
And  lete  all  other  trifles  be. 

"  The  more  that  the  nede  is  high, 
The  more  it  nedeth  to  be  sligh 
To  him  which  hath  the  nede  on 

honde. 

I  have  well  herd  and  understonde, 
My  sone,  all  that  thou  hast  me  saiecl 
Andekeof  that  thou  hast  me  praied. 
Nowe  at  this  time  that  I  shall 
As  for  conclusion  finAll 
Counseil  upon  thy  nede  set, 
So  thenke  I  finally  to  knet 
Thy  cause  where  it  is  to-broke, 
And  make  an  ende  of  that  is  spoke. 
For  I  behighte  the  that  yift 
First  whan  thou  come  under  my 
shrift, 


432 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


That  though  I  toward  Venus  were, 
Yet  spake  I  suche  wordes  there, 
That  for  thepresthode  which  I  have, 
Min  order  and  min  estate  to  save, 
I  saide,  I  wolde  of  min  office 
To  vertu  more  than  to  vice 
Encline  and  teche  the  my  lore. 
Forthy  to  speken  evermore 
Of  Love  which  the  may  availe, 
Take  Love*  where  it  may  nought  faile. 
For  as  of  this  which  thou  art  in, 
By  that  thou  seest  it  is  a  sinne, 
And  sinne  may  no  prise  deserve, 
Withoute  prise  and  who  shall  serve 
I  not  what  profit  might  availe. 
Thus  folweth  it,  if  thou  travaile 
Where  thou  no  profit  hast  ne  prise 
Thou  art  toward  thy  self  unwise, 
And  sith  thou  mightest  lust  atteine, 
Of  every  lust  the  ende  is  peine 
And  every  pein  is  good  to  flee. 
So  it  is  wonder  thing  to  se 
Why  such  a  thing  shall  be  desired. 
The  more  that  a  stock  is  fired 
The  rather  1  into  ashe  it  torneth. 
The  fote  which  in  the  weie  sporneth 
Full  ofte  his  heved  hathoverthrowe. 
Thus  Love  is  blinde  and  can  nought 

knowe 

Where  that  he  goth  till  he  be  falle. 
Forth^  but  if  it  so  befalle 
With  good  counseil  that  he  be  lad, 
Him  ought<5  for  to  ben  adrad. 
For  counseil  passeth  alle  thing 
To  him  which  thenketh  to  ben  a 

king. 

And  every  man  for  his  party 
A  kingdom  hath  to  justify, 
That  is  to  sain,  his  owne  dome. 
If  he  misreule'  that  kingddme, 
He  lest  him  self,  and  that  is  more, 
Than  if  he  loste  ship  and  ore 
And  all  the  worldds  good  with  all. 
For  what  man  that  in  speciall 

1  Rather,  sooner. 


Hath    nought    him    self,   he  hath 

nought  elles, 

No  more  the  perles  than  the  shelles, 
All  is  to  him  of  o  value — 
Though  he  had  all  his  retenue 
The  wide  world  right  as  he  wolde — • 
Whan    he   his   hert   hath  nought 

witholde 

Toward  him  self,  all  is  in  vein. 
And  thus,  my  sone,  I  wolde  sain, 
As  I  said  er,  that  thou  arise 
Er  that  thou  falle  in  such  a  wise 
That  thou  ne  might  thy  self  rekever; 
For  Lovd,  which  that  blind  was  ever, 
Maketh  all  his  servaunts  blinde  also. 
"My  sone,  and  if  thou  have  be  so, 
Yet  it  is  time  to  withdrawe 
And  set  thin  hert  under  that  lawe 
The  which  of  Reson  is  governed 
And  nought  of  Will.     And  to  be 

lerned 

Ensamples  thou  hast  many  one 
Of  now  and  eke  of  time  gone, 
That  every  lust  is  but  a  while. 
And  who  that  woll  him  self  beguile, 
He  may  the  rather  be  deceived. 
My  sone,  now  thou  hast  conceived 
Somwhat  of  that  I  wolde  mene, 
Here  afterward  it  shall  be  sene, 
If  that  thou  leve  upon  my  lore. 
For  I  can  do  to  the  no  more, 
But  teche  the  the  righte  way. 
Now  chese,  if  thou   wilt    live  or 

deie."— 

"  W%  ftt&er,  so  as  I  have  herde 
Your  tale,  but  it  were  answerde, 
I  were  mochel  for  to  blame. 
My  wo  to  you  is  but  a  game, 
That  feleth  nought  of  that  I  fele. 
The  feling  of  a  manne's  hele 
May  nought  be  likened  to  the  herte ; 
I  wot  that  though  I  wolde  asterte 
And  ye  be  fre  from  all  the  peine 
Of  love  wherof  I  me  pleiue, 
It  is  right  esy  to  commuunde. 


BOOK  VIII. 


433 


The  hert  which  fre  goth  on  the  launde 
Not1  of  an  oxe  what  him  eileth, 
It  falleth  oft  a  man  merveileth 
Of  that  he  seeth  another  fare. 
But  if  he  knew  himself  the  fare 
And  felt  it  as  it  is  in  soth, 
He  shulde  do  right  as  he  doth 
Or  die's  wors  in  his  degre. 
For  wel  I  wote  and  so  do  ye, 
That  love  hath  ever  yet  ben  used, 
So  mote  I  nedes  ben  excused. 
But  fader,  if  ye  wolde*  thus 
Unto  Cupide  and  to  Venus 
Be  frendly  toward  my  quarele, 
So  that  my  herte  were  in  hele 
Of  love  which  is  in  my  breste, 
I  wot  wel  than  a  better  preste 
Was  never  made  to  my  behove. 
But  all  the  while*  that  I  hove 
In  none  certein  betwene  the  two, 
And  not  where  2  I  to  well  or  wo 
Shall  torne*,  that  is  all  my  drede, 
So  that  I  not  what  is  to  rede. 
But  for  findll  conclusion 
I  thenke  a  supplicacidn 
With  pleine  wordes  and  expresse 
Write  unto  Venus  the  goddesse, 
The  which  I  praie  you  to  bere 
And  bring  ayein  a  good  answere.'' 
§[f)0  was  bofttJcno  my  prest 

and  me 

Debate  and  great  perplexete. 
My  Reson  understode  him  wele 
And  knewe  it  was  soth  every  dele 
That  he  hath  said,  but  nought  forthy 
My  Will  hath  no  thing  set  ther  by. 
For  touching  of  so  wise  a  porte 
It  is  unto  love  no  disporte. 
Yet  mighte  never  man  beholde 
Res6n,  where  Love"  was  witholde,3 
They  be  nought  of  o  governaunce. 
And  thus  we  fellen  in  distaunce 
My  prest  and  I,  but  I  spake  faire 

1  Not,  knows  not. 

2  Not  -where,  know  not  whether. 

3  Witholde,  held  with. 


And  through  my  wordes  debonaire 
Than  atte  laste  we  accorden, 
So  that  he  saith,  he  woll  accorden 
To  speke  and  stond  upon  my  side 
To  Venus  both  and  to  Cupide, 
And  bad  me  write  what  I  wolde. 
And  said  me  truly  that  he  sholde 
My  letter  bere  unto  the  quene. 
And  I  sat  down  upon  the  grene 
Fulfilled  of  Loves  fantasy 
And  with  the  teres  of  min  eye 
In  stede  of  inke  I  gan  to  write 
The  wordes  which  I  wol  endite 
Unto  Cupide  and  to  Venus, 
And  in  my  letter  I  saide  thus : — 

^r>c  n)ofitU   peine    of   love's 

maladie, 
Ayein  the  which  may  no  phisique 

availe,  [sotie, 

Min  hert  hath  so  bewhapped  with 
That  where*  so  that  I  reste  or  travaile 
I  finde  it  ever  redy  to  assaile 
My  reson,  whichthatcanhim  nought 

defende. 
Thus  seche  I  help  wherof  I  might 

amende. 

First  to  Nature  if  that  I  me  com- 

pleine, 

There  finde  I  howthat  every  creature 
Somtime  a  yere *  hath  love  in  his 

demaine, 

So  that  the  litelvvrenneinhismesure 
Have  yet  of  kinde  a  love  under  his 

cure. 

And  I  but  one  desire*,  which  I  misse, 
And  thus  but  I  hath  every  kinde  his 

blisse. 

The  reson  of  my  wit  it  overpasseth, 
Of  that  Nature*  teche  me  the  wey 
To  love  and  yet   no  certein  she 
comp£sseth 

1  At  some  time  in  each  year. 
2  E 


434 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


How  shal  I  spede;  and  thus  betwen 

the  tvvcy 

1  stondcandnot1  if  I  shall  live  or  dey. 
For  though  Reson  ayein  my  will 

debate, 
I  may  nought  flee  that  I  ne  love 

algate. 

Upon  my  self  this  ilke  tale  come, 

How  whilom  Pan,  which  is  the  god 
of  kinde, 

With  Love  wrestled  and  was  over 
come, 

For  ever  I  wrestle  and  ever  I  am 
behinde,2 

That  I  no  strength  in  all  min  herte 
finde 

Wherof  that  I  may  stonden  any 
throwe, 

Sofermy witwithlove  is  overthrowe. 

Whomnedeth  help,  he  mot  his  helpe 

crave 

Or  helpeles  he  shall  his  nede  spille. 
Pleinly  throughsought  my  witte's  al 

I  have, 
But  none  of  hem  can  help  after  my 

wille. 

And  al  so  well  I  mighte  site  stille 
As  pray  unto  my  lady  of  any  helpe, 
Thus  wote  I  nought  wherof  my  self 

to  helpe. 

Unto  the  grete  Jove  and  if  I  bid 
To  do  me  grace  of  thilke  swete  tonne 
Which  under  key  in  his  celler  amid 
Lith  couchdd,  that  Fortune  is  over- 

ronne  • 
But  of  the  bitter  cuppe  I  have  be- 

gonne,  [game, 

I  not  how  ofte,  and  thus  finde  I  no 
For  ever  I  axe  and  ever  jt  is  the  same. 

1  Not,  know  not. 

2  For  e'er  I  wrestl'  and  e'er  I  am  behind.    So 
in  last  line  of  next  stanza  but  one,  "  e'er"  .  .  . 
"e'er." 


I    se  the   world  stond   ever  upon 

eschaunge, 
Now  winde's  loude*,  now  the  weder 

softe, 

I  mayseekethegrete  monechaunge, 
And  thing  which  now  is  low  is  eft 

alofte ; 

The  dredful  werres  into  pees  ful  ofte 
They  torne,  and  ever  is  Daunger  in 

0  place, 

Which  wolde  chaunge  his  Will  to 
do  me  grace. 

But  upon  this  the  grete  clerk  Ovide, 
Of  Love  whan  he  maketh  re'mem- 

braunce, 
He  saith  :  Ther  is  the  blinde  god 

Cupide, 
The   which   hath    love   under    his 

governaunce 
And  in  his  hond  with  many  a  firy 

launce 
He  woundeth  ofte  where  he  woll 

nought  hele, 
And  that  somdele  is  cause  of  my 

quarele. 

O  vide  eke  saith,  that  love  to  performe 
Stant  in  the   hond   of  Venus   the 

goddesse, 
But  whan  she  taketh  counseil  with 

Satorne 
There  is  no  grace,  and  in  that  time 

1  gesse 

Began  my  love,  of  which  min  hevi- 

nesse 

Is  now  and  ever  shall,  but  if  I  spede, 
So  wot  I  nought  my  self  what  is  to 

rede. 

Forthy  to  you,  Cupide  and  Venus 

both, 
With  all  min  hertes  obeisaiince  I 

pray, 
If  ye  were  atte  firste"  time  wroth, 


BOOK  VIII. 


435 


Whan  I  began  to  loven,  I  you  say, 
Xo\v  stint,  and  do  thilke  Fortune 

away, 
So  that    Daunger,  which  slant  of 

retenue 
With  my  lady,  his  place-  may  remue. 

O  thou  Cupide,  god  of  loves  lawe, 
That  with  thy  dart  brennend  hast 

set  a  fire 
My  hertd,  do  that  wounde  be  with- 

drawe, 

Or  yivd  me  salve,  suche  as  I  desire. 
For  service  in  thy  court  withouten 

hire 
To  me  which  ever  yet  have  kept 

thin  heste, 
May  never  be  to  love's  lawe  honeste. 

O  thou,  gentile*  Venus,  love's  quene, 
Without^  gilt  thou  dost  on  me  thy 

wreche, 

Thouwostmypeiniseveralichgrene 
For  love,  and  yet  I  may  it  nought 

arecche.1 
Thus  wolde  I  for  my  lastd  word 

beseche 
That    thou    my  love  aquite    as   I 

deserve, 
Or  elles  do  me  pleinly  for  to  sterve. 


this  supplicacidn 
With  good  deliberation, 
In  suche  a  wise  as  ye  now  wite, 
Had  after  min  entente'  write 
Unto  Cupide  and  to  Venus, 
This  preste  which  hight  Genius 
It  toke  on  honde  to  presente. 
On  my  message  and  forth  he  wente 
To  Venus  for  to  wit  her  wille. 
And  I  bode  in  the  placd  stille 
And  was  there  but  a  litel  while 
Noughtfull  the  mountanceof  a  mile, 
Whan  I  behelde  and  sodeinly 

1  AreccJie,  reach  to. 


I  sigh  where  Venus  stood  me  by. 
So  as  I  might,  under  a  tree 
To  grounde  I  felle  upon  my  knee 
And  preid  her  for  to  do  me  grace. 
She  cast  her  chere  upon  my  face 
And  as  it  were  halving  a  game 
She  axeth  me,  what  was  my  name. 
'  Madame,'  I  saide,  'lohan  Gower.' 
'  Now  lohan,'  quod  she,  '  in  my 

power 

Thou  must  as  of  thy  love  stonde. 
For  I  thy  bill  have  understonde 
In  which  to  Cupide  and  to  me 
Somdelethou  hast  compleigned  the ; 
And  somdele  to  Nature  also, 
But  that  shall  stonde  among  you  two 
For  therof  have  I  nought  to  done, 
For  Nature  is  under  the  mone 
Maistresse  of  every  lives  kinde, 
But  if  so  be  that  she  may  finde 
Some  holy  man  that  woll  withdrawe 
His  kindely  lust,  ayein  her  lawe. 
But  seldewhan  it  falleth  so, 
For  fewd  men  there  ben  of  tho. 
But  of  these  other  inowe  be, 
Whiche  of  her  owne  nicite 
Ayein  Nature  and  her  office 
Deliten  hem  in  sondry  vice 
Wherof    that    she   full   oft    hath 

pleigned ; 

And  eke  my  Court  it  hathdisdeigned 
And  ever  shall,  for  it  receiveth 
None  such  that  kindc  sodesceiveth. 
For  all  onlich  of  gentil  love 
My  Court  slant  alle  Courts  above 
And  taketh  nought  into  retenue 
But  thing  which  is  to  Kindd  due. 
For  die's  it  shall  be  refused, 
Wherof  I  holdd  the  excused. 
For  it  is  many  daies  gone, 
That  thou  amonges  hem  were  one 
Which  of  my  court  shall  be  wi  tholde, 
So  that  the  more  I  am  beholde 
Of  thy  disese  to  commune 
And  to  remiid  that  Fortune 


436 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


Which  many  dales  hath  the  greved. 
But  if  my  counseil  may  be  leved, 
Thou  shalt  be  esed  er  thou  go 
Of  thilke  unsely  jolif  wo 
Wherof  thou  saist  thin  hert  is  fired. 
But  as  of  that  thou  hast  desired 
After  the  sentence  of  thy  bill, 
Thou  must  therof  done  at  my  will 
And  I  therof  me  woll  avise. 
For  be  thou  hole,  it  shall  suffice  ; 
My  medicine  is  nought  to  seke 
The  which  is  holsome  to  the  seke, 
Nought  all  perchaunceas  ye  it  wolde 
But  so  as  ye  by  reson  sholde, 
Accordaunt  unto  loves  kinde. 
For  in  the  plite  which  I  the  finde, 
So  as  my  Court  it  hath  awarded, 
Thou  shalt  be  duely  rewarded. 
And  if  thou  woldest  more  crave, 
It  is  no  right  that  thou  it  have.' 
12TenU5,    which    stant   withoute 

lawe, 

In  none  certeine,  but  as  men  drawe 
Of  rageman  upon  the  chaunce, 
She  laith  no  peise  in  the  balaunce, 
But  as  her  liketh  for  to  weie 
The  trewe  man  full  ofte  aweie 
She  put,  which  hath  her  grace  bede, 
And  sette  an  untrue  in  his  stede. 
Lo,  thus  blindly  the  world  she 

demeth 

In  Love's  cause,  as  to  me  semeth, 
I  not  what  other  men  wold  sain 
But  I  algate  am  so  beseine, 
And  stonde  as  one  amonges  alle 
Which  am  out  of  her  grace*  falle. 
It  nedeth  take  no  witnesse, 
For  she,  which  said  is  the  goddesse 
To  whether  parte  of  love  it  wende, 
Hath  set  me  for  a  finall  ende 
The  point  wherto  that  I  shall  holde. 
For  whan  she  hath  me  well  beholde 
Halving  of  scorne  she  saide  thus  : 
"  Thou  wost  well  that  I  am  Venus, 
Which  all  only  my  lustes  seche. 


And  well  I  wot  though  thou  beseche 
My  love  lustes  ben  there  none 
Which  I  may  take  in  thy  persone, 
For  loves  lust  and  lockes  hore 
In  chambre  accorden  nevermore. 
And  though  thou  feigne   a  yong 

cordge, 

It  sheweth  well  by  thy  visdge, 
That  olde  grisel  is  no  fole. 
There  ben  full  many  yeres  stole 
With  the  and  other  suche  mo 
That  outward  feignen  youth  e  so 
And  ben  within  of  pouer  assay. 
'  My  herte  wolde,  and  I  ne  may/ 
Is  nought  beloved  now  a  daies. 
Er  thou  make  any  such  nssaies 
To  love,  and  faile  upon  thy  fete, 
Bet  is  to  make  beau  retrete? 

"  My  sone,  if  that  thou  well  be 
thought, 

This  toucheth  the,  foryete  it  nought, 
The  thing  is  torned  into  'was,' 
The  which  was  whilome  grene  gras 
Is  welked  heie  as  timd  now. 
Forthy  my  counseil  is,  that  thou 
Remembre  well  how  thou  art  olde." 

Whan  Venus  hath  her  tale  tolde, 
And  I  bethought  was  all  aboute, 
And  wiste  wel  withouten  double 
That  there  was  no  recoverire, 
And  as  a  man  the  blase  of  fire 
With  water  quencheth,  so  ferde  I. 
A  colde  me  caught  sodeinly; 
For  sorwe  that  my  herte  made 
My  dedly  face  pale  and  fade 
Becam,  and  swoune  I  fel  to  grounde. 
Jln6  as  §  lag  the  same  stounde 
Ne  fully  quick,  ne  fully  dede, 
Me  thought  I  sigh  to-fore  min  hede 
Cupide  with  his  bowe  bent 
And  like  unto  a  parlement 
Which  were  ordeine'd  for  the  nones, 
With  him  cam  all  the  world  atones 
Of  gentil  folke,  that  whilom  were 
Lovers,  I  sigh  hem  alle  there 


BOOK  VIII. 


437 


Forth  with  Cupide  in  son  dry  routes. 
Min  eye  and  as  I  cast  aboutes 
To  know  among  hem  who  was  who, 
I  sigh  where  lusty  youthd  tho, 
As  he  which  was  a  capitein 
To-fore  all  other  upon  the  plein 
Stood  with  his  route  well  begon, 
Her  hedes  kempt,  and  thei  upon 
(larlundcs,  nought  of  o  colour, 
Some  of  the  lefe  some  of  the  floure, 
And  some  of  grete'  perles  were. 
The  newe  guise  of  Beawme  there 
With  sondry  thinges  well  devised 
I  sigh,  wherof  they  be  queintised. 
It  was  all  lust  that  they  with  ferde. 
There  was  no  song  that  I  ne  herde 
Which  unto  love  was  touching, 
Of  Pan  and  all  that  was  liking, 
As  in  piping  of  melodic 
Was  herde  in  thilke  compaignie, 
So  loude  that  on  every  side 
It  thought  as  all  the  heven  cride 
In  suche  accorde  and  suche  a  soune 
Of  bombarde  and  of  clarioiine 
With  cornemiise  and  with  shalmele, 
That  it  was  half  a  mannes  hele 
So  glad  a  noise  for  to  here. 

And  as  me  thought  inthismanere 
All  fresshe  I  sigh  hem  springe  and 

daunce, 

And  do  to  love  her  entendaiince 
After  the  lust  of  youthes  hest, 
There  was  inough  of  joy  and  fest. 
For  ever  among  they  laugh  and  pley 
And  putten  care  out  of  the  wey, 
That  he  with  hem  ne  sat  ne  stode. 
And  over  this  I  understode, 
So  as  min  ere  it  might  arecche, 
The  moste  matere  of  her  speche 
It  was  of  knighthode  and  of  armes, 
And  what  it  is  to  ligge  in  armes 
With  love'  whan  it  is  acheved. 

There  was  Tristram,  which  was 

beleved 
With  Hele  Isolde,  and  Lancelot 


Stode  with  Gunnor,  and  ( ialahot 
With  his  lady,  and  as  me  thought, 
I  sigh  where  Jason  with  him  brought 
His  love,  which  Creiisa  hight. 
And  Hercules  which  mochel  might 
Was  there  bering  his  great  mace, 
And  most  of  all  in  thilke  place 
He  peineth  him  to  make  chere 
With  Eolen  which  was  him  dere. 
Theseiis  though  he  were  untrewe 
To  love,  as  alle  women  knewe, 
Vet  was  he  there  netheles 
With  Fedra  which  to  love  he  ches. 
Of  Grece  eke  there  was  Thelamon, 
Which  fro  the  kinge  Lamedon 
At  Troy  his  doughter  reft  away 
Eseo'nen  as  for  his  pray, 
Which  take  was  whan  Jason  cam 
Fro  Colchos  and  the  citee  nam 
In  vengeaunce  of  the  firste  hate 
That  made  hem  after  to  debate 
Whan  Priamus  the  newe  town 
Hath  made.      And  in  avisioiin 
Me  thoughte  that  I  sigh  also 
Hector  forth  with  his  brethern  two, 
Him  self  stood  with  Pantasilee, 
And  next  to  him  I  mighte  see, 
Where  Paris  stoodwithfaireHeleine, 
Which  was  his  joie  soveraine. 
And  Troilus  stood  with  Creseide. 
But  ever  among  although  he  pleide, 
By  semblaunt  he  was  hevy  chered. 
For  Diomede,  as  him  was  lered, 
Claimeth  to  be  his  partenere. 
And  thus  full  many  a  bachelere, 
A  thousand  mo  than  I  can  sain, 
With  youth  I  sigh  there  well  besein 
Forth  with  her  loves  glad  and  blith. 
And  some  I  sigh,  which  ofte  sith 
Compleignen  hem  in  sondry  wise, 
Among  the  which  I  sigh  Narcise 
And  Piramus,  that  sory  were. 
The  worthy  Greke  also  was  there, 
Achilles,  which  for  love  deied. 
Agamenon  eke  as  men  saied, 


438 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  Menelay  the  King  also 
I  sigh  with  many  an  other  mo 
Which  hadden  be  fortuned  sore 
In  love's  cause.     And  evermore 
Of  women  in  the  same  cas 
With  hem  I  sigh  where  Dido  was 
Forsake  which  was  with  Enee. 
And  Phillis  eke  I  mighte  see, 
Whom  Demophon  deceived  hadde, 
And  Adriagne  her  sorvve  ladde, 
For  Theseus  her  suster  toke 
And  her  unkindely  forsoke. 
I  sigh  there  eke  among  the  pres 
Compleigning  upon  Hercules 
His  first^  love  Deianire, 
Which  set  him  afterward  a  fire. 
Medea  was  there  eke  and  pleigneth 
Upon  Jason  for  that  he  feigneth 
Withoute  cause  and  toke  a  newe, 
She  saide,  <  Fie  on  all  untrewe  ! ' 
I  sigh  there  Deidamie, 
Which  hadde  lost  the  compaignie 
Of  Achilles,  whan  Diomede 
To  Troy  him  fet  upon  the  nede. 
Among  these  other  upon  the  grene 
I  sigh  also  the  wofull  quene 
Cleopatrds,  which  in  a  cave 
With  serpents  hath  her  self  begrave 
All  quick,1  and  so  she  was  to-tore 
For  sorwe  of  that  she  hadde  lore 
Antonie,  which  her  love  hath  be. 
And  forth  with  her  I  sigh  Tisbe, 
Which  on  the  sharpe  swerdes  pointe 
For  love  deied  in  sory  pointe. 
And  as  min  ere  it  mighte  knowe, 
She  saidd,  'Wo  worth  alle  slowe.' 
The  pleintof  Progne  andPhilomene 
There  herde  I  what  it  woldd  mene, 
How  Tereiis  of  his  untrouthe 
Undid    hem   both,   and    that   was 

routhe. 

And  next  to  hem  I  sigh  Canace, 
Which  for  Machair  her'faders  grace 
Hath  lost  and  deied  in  wofull  plite. 

1  Begrave  all  quick,  buried  alive. 


And  as  I  sigh  in  my  spirite, 
Me  thought  amonges  other  thus 
The  doughter  of  king  Priamus, 
Polixena,  whom  Pirrus  slough, 
Was  there  and  made  sorwe  inough, 
As  she  which  deide  gilteles 
For  love,  and  yet  was  loveles. 
And  for  to  take  the  desporte 
I  sigh  there  some  of  other  porte, 
And  that  was  Circes  and  Calipse, 
That  couthen  do  the  mond  clipse, 
Of  men  and  chaunge  the  Iiknesse7 
Of  artmagique  sorceresse, 
They  helde  in  honde  many  one 
To  love,  where  they  wolde  or  none. 
But  above  alle  that  there  were 
Of  women  I  sigh  foure  there, 
Whose  name   I  herde  most  com 
mended. 

By  hem  the  court  stode  all  amended. 
For  where  they  comen  in  presence 
Men  diden  hem  the  reverence 
As  though  they  hadden  ben  god 
desses 

Of  all  this  world  or  emperesses. 
And  as  me  thought  an  ere  I  laid 
And  herde,  how  that  these  other  said : 
'  Lo,  thesd  ben  the  foure  wives, 
Whose  feith  was  proved  in  her  lives 
For  in  ensample  of  all  good 
With  manage  so  they  stood 
That  Fame",  which  no  great  thing 

hideth 
Yet  in  cronique  of  hem  abideth.' 

Penelope  that  one  was  hote, 
Whom  many  a  knight  hath  loved 

hote 

While  that  her  lorde  Ulixes  laie 
Full  many  a  yere  and  many  a  daie 
Upon  the  grete  siege  of  Troy  : 
But  she  which  hath  no  worldes  joy 
But  only  of  her  husebonde, 
While  that  her  lord  was  out  of  londc, 
So  well  hath  kept  her  womanhede, 
That  all  the  world  therof  toke  hede 


BOOK  VllL 


439 


And  namelich  of  hem  in  Greco. 
That  other  woman  was  Lucrece, 
Wife  to  the  Remain  Collatine. 
And  she  constreigned  of  Tarquine 
To  thing  which  was  ayein  her  will, 
She  wolde  nought  her  selven  still, 
But  deide  only  for  drede  of  shame 
In  keping  of  her  godd  name, 
As  she  which  was  one  of  the  beste. 
The  thridde  wife  was  hotc  Alceste, 
Which  whan  Admetus  shulde  die 
Upon  his  grete  maladie, 
She  praied  unto  the  goddes  so, 
That  she  receiveth  all  the  wo 
Anddeied  her  self  toyivehim  life, — 
Se  where  this  were  a  noble  wife  ! 
The  ferthe  wife  which  I  there  sigh, 
I  herde  of  hem  that  were  nigh, 
How  she  was  cleped  Alcione, 
Which  Cei'x  hire  lord  allone 
And  to  no  mo  her  body  kepte. 
And  whan  she  sighe  him  dreint, 

she  lepte 

Into  the  wawes  where  he  swam, 
And  there  a  see  foule  she  becam. 
And  with  her  winges  him  besprad 
For  love  that  she  to  him  had. 
Lo,  these  fourd  weren  tho, 
Which  I  sigh  as  me  thoughte  tho 
Among  the  grete  compaignie, 
Which  love*  hadde  for  to  gie.1 
But  Youthe,  which  in  speciall 
Of  Loves  court  was  mareshall, 
So  besy  was  upon  his  lay, 
That  he  none  hede  where  he  lay 
Hath  take.    And  than  as  I  beheldc, 
Me  thought  I  sigh  upon  the  felde. 
\Vhere  Elde  came  a  softd  pas 
Toward  Venus,  there  as  she  was. 
AVith  him  ^reat  compaignie  he  ladde, 
But  nought  so  fele  as  Youthd  haddc. 
The  mostc  part  \vcrc  of  great  age, 
And  that  was  sene  in  her  visdge, 
And  nought  forthy,  so  as  they  might, 

1  Git,  guide. 


j  They  made  hem  yongly  to  the  sight. 
But  yet  herde  I  no  pipe's  there 
To  make  merth  in  mannes  ere. 
But  the  musi'que  I  mighte  knowe 
For  olde  men,  which  souned  lowe 
With  harpe  and  lute  and  with  citole 
The  hovd  daunce  and  the  carole,1 
In  suche  a  wise  as  love  hath  bedc, 
A  softe  pas  they  daunce  and  tredc, 
And  with  the  women  otherwhile 
With  sobre  chere  among  they  smile, 
For  laughter   was  there  none   on 

high. 

And  netheles  full  well  I  sigh 
That  they  the  more  queint  it  made 
For  love  in  whom  they  weren  glade. 
And  there  me  thought  I  mighte  sec 
The  king  David  with  Bersabee, 
And  Salomon  was  nought  withoutc 
Passing  an  hundred  in  a  route 
Of  wives  and  of  concubines ; 
Jewesses  eke  and  Sarazines 
To  him  I  sigh  all  entendaunt. 
I  not  where  he  were  suffisaiint. 
But  netheles  for  all  his  wit 
He  was  attached  with  that  writ 
Which  Love  with  his  hondenseleth, 
From  whom  none  erthly  man  ap- 

peleth. 

And  over  this,  as  for  no  wonder, 
With  his  leon,  which  he  put  under, 
With  Dalihl  Sampson  I  knewe, 
Whos  love  his  strength  all  ovcr- 

threwe. 

I  sigh  there  Aristotle  also, 
Whom  that  the  quene  of  Grece  al  so 
Hath  bridled,  that  in  thilkc  time 
,  She  made  him  such  a  silogimc, 
\  That  he  foryate  all  his  logiquc. 
There  was  none  arte  of  his  practiquc, 
Through  which  it  mighte  ben  ex 
cluded, 
That  he  ne  was  fully  concluded 

1  //(>r'<f  daunce,  court  dance.    Carole,  an  old 
round  dance. 


440 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


To  love  and  did  his  obeisaunce. 
And  eke  Virgile  of  aqueintaunce 
I  sigh,  where  he  the  maiden  praid 
Which  was  the  doughter,  as  men 

said, 

Of  themperour  whilom  of  Rome. 
Sortes  and  Plato  with  him  come, 
So  did  Ovidd  the  poete. 
I  thoughte  than  how  love  is  swete 
Which  hath  so  wise  men  reclamed, 
And  was  my  self  the  lasse  ashamed 
Or  for  to  lese  or  for  to  winne 
In  the  mischefe  that  I  was  inne, 
And  thus  I  lay  in  hope  of  grace. 
And  whan  they  comen  to  the  place, 
Where  Venus  stood  and  I  was  falle, 
These  olde  men  with  o  vois  alle 
To  Venus  praiden  for  my  sake. 
And  she  that  mighte  nought  forsake 
So  great  a  clamour  as  was  there, 
Let  pite*  come  into  her  ere 
And  forth  with  all  unto  Cupide 
She  praieth  that  he  upon  his  side 
Me  wolde  through  his  grace  sende 
Some  comfort,  that  I  might  amende 
Upon  the  cas  which  is  befalle. 
And  thus  for  me  they  praiden  alle 
Of  hem  that  weren  old  aboute, 
And  eke  some  of  the  yonge  route, 
Of  gentilesse  and  pure  trouth 
I  herde  hem  tel  it  was  great  routh, 
That  I  withouten  help  so  ferde. 
And  thus  me  thought  I  lay  and  herde. 
Cupide",  which  maie  hurtand  hele 
In  Loves  cause,  as  for  min  hele 
Upon  the  point  which  him  was  praid 
Cam  with  Venus  where  I  was  laid 
Swounend  upon  the  grene  gras. 
And  as  me  thought  anone  there  was 
On  every  side  so  great  pres, 
That  every  life  began  to  pres, 
I  wot  nought  wei  how  many  score, 
Suche  as  I  spake  of  now  to-fore, 
Lovers,  that  comen  to  beholde, 
But  most  of  hem  that  weren  olde. 


They  stoden  there  at  thilke  tide 
To  se  what  ende  shall  betide 
Upon  the  cure  of  my  sotie. 
Tho  might  I  here  great  partie 
Spekend,  and  eche  his  own  avis 
Hath  tolde,  one  that  another  this. 
But  among  alle  this  I  herde, 
They  weren  wo  that  I  so  ferde, 
And  saiden  that  for  no  riote 
An  olde  man  shuld  nought  assotc. 
For  as  they  tolden  redely 
There  is  in  him  no  cause  why, 
But  if  he  wold  him  self  be  nice, 
So  were  he  well  the  more  nice. 
And  thus  desputen  some  of  tho, 
And  some  saiden  no  thing  so, 
But  that  the  wilde  loves  rage 
In  mannes  life  forbereth  none  age, 
While  there  is  oile  for  to  fire 
The  lampe  is  lightly  set  a  fire 
And  is  full  hard  er  it  be  queint, 
But  only  if  he  be  some  seint, 
Which  God  preserveth  of  his  grace. 
And  thus  me  thought  in  sondry  place, 
Of  hem  that  walken  up  and  down 
There  was  divers  opinioun. 
And  for  a  while  so  it  laste, 
Till  that  Cupidd  to  the  laste, 
Forth  with  his  moder  full  avised 
Hath  determined  and  devised, 
Unto  what  point  he  woll  descend. 
And  all  this  time  I  was  liggdnd 
Upon  the  ground  to-fore  his  eyen. 
And  they  that  my  disese  sighen 
Supposen  nought  I  shulde  live. 
But  he  which  wolde  thanne  yive 
His  grace,  so  as  it  maie  be, 
This  blinde  god  which  may  noughtse 
Hath  groped  till  that  he  me  fonde. 
And  as  he  putte  forth  his  honde 
Upon  my  body,  where  I  lay, 
Me  thought  a  firy  lancegay 
Which  whilom  through  my  hert  he 

cast 
He  pulleth  out,  and  al  so  fast 


BOOK   VIII. 


441 


As  this  was  do,  Cupide  nain 

His  wey;    I  not  where  he  becam; 

And  so  did  all  the  remenaunt 

Which  unto  him  was  entendaunt 

Of  hem  that  in  avision 

I  had  a  revelacion, 

So  as  I  tolde  now  to-fore. 

^Utt  pcmts  n>cut<<  noitflfjt  ther- 

fore. 

Ne  Genius,  which  thilke  time 
Abiden  bothe  faste  by  me. 
And  she,  which  may  the  hertesbinde 
In  lovds  cause  and  eke  unbinde, 
Er  I  out  of  my  traunce  arose, 
Venus,  which  helde  a  buistd  close 
And  wolde  nought  I  sholde  deie, 
Toke  out,  more  colde  then  ony  keie 
An  oignement,  and  in  such  point 
She  hath  my  wounded  hert  anoint, 
My  temples  and  my  reins  also. 
And  forth  with  all  she  toke  me  tho 
A  wonder  mirrour  for  to  holde, 
In  which  she  bad  me  to  beholde 
And  take  hede  of  that  I  sigh  ; 
Wherin  anone  min  hertds  eye 
I  cast  and  sigh  my  colour  fade, 
Min  eien  dim  and  all  unglade, 
My  chekds  thinne,  and  all  my  face 
With  elde  I  mighte  se  deface, 
So  riveled  and  so  wo  besein 
That  there  was  no  thing  full  ne  pie  in. 
I  sigh  also  min  haires  hore, 
My  will  was  tho  to  se  no  more, 
On  which  for  there  was  no  plesaunce. 
And  than  into  my  remembraiince 
I  drough  min  oldd  daies  passed, 
And  as  reson  it  hatli  compassed, 
I  made  a  likenesse  of  my  selve 
Unto  the  sondry  monthds  twelve, 
Wherof  the  yere  in  his  estate 
Is  made,  and  stant  upon  debate, 
That  lich  til  other  none  accordeth. 
For  who  the  times  wel  recordeth, 
And  than  at  Marche  if  he  beginne, 
Whan  that  the  lusty  yere  comth  inne 


TillAugstbepassedand  Septembre, 
The  mighty  youth  hemayremembre, 
In  which  the  yere  hath  his  deduit l 
Of  grass,  of  lefe,  of  floure,  of  fruit, 
Of  corne,  and  of  the  winy  grape. 
And  afterward  the  time  is  shape 
To  frost,  to  snow,  to  wind,  to  rain, 
Till  eft  that  March  be  come  ayein. 
The  Winter  woll  no  Somer  knowe, 
The  grene  lefe  is  overthrowe, 
The  clothed  erth  is  thannd  bare, 
Despuile'd  is  the  somer  fare, 
That  erst  was  hete  is  thanne  chele. 
And  thus  thenkende  thoughtes  fele 
I  was  out  of  my  swoune  afifraid, 
Wherof  I  sigh  my  wittes  straid 
And  gan  to  clepe  hem  home  ayein. 
,Jltt6  wf)an  £lcoon  it  herde  sain 
That  loves  rage  was  awey, 
He  cam  to  me  the  righte  wey 
And  hath  remeved  the  sotie 
Of  thilke  unwise  fantasie 
Wherof  that  I  was  wont  to  plein, 
So  that  of  thilke  firy  pein 
I  was  made  sobre  and  hole  inough. 
Venus  beheld  me  than  and  lough 
And  axeth,  as  it  were  in  game, 
"What  love  was?"  Andlforshame 
Ne  wiste  what  I  shulde  answere. 
And  netheles  I  gan  to  swere 
That  "  By  my  trouth  I  knewe  him 

nought," 

So  fer  it  was  out  of  my  thought, 
Right  as  it  hadde  never  be. 

"  My  godd  sond,"  tho  quod  she, 
"  Now  at  this  time  I  leve  it  wele, 
So  goth  the  fortune  of  my  whele. 
Forthy  my  counseil  is.thoukve." — 

"Madame,"  I  saide,  "by  your 

leve, 

Ye  weten  well,  and  so  wote  I, 
That  I  am  unbehovely 
Your  Court  fro  this  day  for  to  serve. 
And  for  I  may  no  thank  deserve, 

1  Dtdnit,  deli-ht. 


442 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And  also  for  I  am  refused, 

I  praie  you  to  ben  excused. 

And  netheles  as  for  to  laste, 

While  that  my  witte's  with  me  laste, 

Touchendd  my  confession, 

I  axe  an  absolution 

Of  Genius,  er  that  I  go." 

The  prest  anone  was  redy  tho, 
And  saide :  "  Sone.  as  of  thy  shrifte, 
Thou  hast  full  pardon  and  foryifte. 
Foryete  it  thou,  and  so  will  I." 

"Min  holy  fader,  graunt  mercy," 
Quod  I  to  him,  and  to  the  quene 
I  fell  on  knees  upon  the  grene, 
And  toke  my  leve  for  to  wende. 
But  she,  that  wolde  make  an  ende, 
As  therto.  which  I  was  most  able, 
A  paire  of  bedes  blacke  as  sable 
She  toke  and  heng  my  necke  about. 
Upon  the  gaude's  all  without 
Was  write  of  gold  pur  reposer. 
"Lo,"  thus  she  said,  "lohanGower, 
Now  thou  art  atte  laste  caste.  * 
Thus  have  I  for  thin  ese  caste 
That  thou  no  more  of  love  seche. 
But  my  will  is,  that  thou  beseche 
And  pray  hereafter  for  the  pees, 
And  that  thou  make  a  plein  relees 
To  love  which  taketh  litel  hede 
Of  olde  men  upon  the  nede, 
Whan  that  the  lustes  ben  awey, 
Forthy  to  the  nis  but  o  wey, 
In  which  let  Reson  be  thy  guide. 
For  he  may  sone  him  self  misguide, 
That  seeth  nought  the  perill  to-fore. 

"  My  sone,  be  well  ware  therfpre 
And  kepe  the  sentence  of  my  lore 
Tarie  thou  in  my  court  no  more, 
But  go  there  vertue  moral  dwelleth, 
Where  ben  thy  bokes,  as  men  telleth, 
Whicheof  long  time  thou  hast  write. 
For  this  I  do  the  well  to  wite, 
If  thou  thin  hele  wolf  purchace 
Thou  might  nought  make  sute  and 
chace 


Where  that  the   game   is  nought 

provable, 

It  were  a  thing  unresonable, 
A  man  to  be  so  overseie. 
Forthy  take  hede  of  that  I  saie. 
For  in  the  lawe  of  my  commune 
We  be  nought  shape  to  commune, 
Thy  self  and  I,  never  after  this. 
Now  have  I  said  all  that  there  is 
Of  love,  as  for  thy  final  ende. 
Adieu,  for  I  mot  fro  the  wende."1 

i  MS.  Harl.  3490  : 

And  grete  well  Chaucer,  whan  ye  mete, 
As  my  disciple  and  my  poete. 
For  in  the  floures  of  his  youth, 
In  sondry  wise,  as  he  well  couth, 
Of  dittees  and  of  songes  glade, 
The  which  he  for  my  sake  made, 
The  lond  fulfilled  is  over  all, 
Wherof  to  him  in  speciall 
Above  all  other  I  am  most  holde. 
Forthy  now  in  his  daies  olde 
Thou  shall  him  telle  this  message, 
That  he  upon  his  later  age 
To  sette  an  end  of  all  his  werke, 
As  he,  which  is  min  owne  clerke, 
Do  make  his  testament  of  love, 
As  thou  hast  do  thy  shrifte  above, 
So  that  my  court  it  may  recorde. 
Madame,  I  can  me  well  accorde, 
Quod  I,  to  telle  as  ye  me  bidde. 
And  with  that  worde  it  so  betidde 
Out  of  my  sight  all  sodeinly, 
Enclosed  in  a  sterry  sky, 
Up  to  the  heven  Venus  straught. 
And  I  my  righte  waie  sought 
Home  fro  the  wode  and  forth  I  wente, 
Where  as  with  al  min  hole  entente 
Thus  with  my  bedes  upon  honde 
For  hem  that  true  love  fonde 
I  thenke  bidde  while  I  live, 
Upon  the  point  which  I  am  shrive. 
He,  which  withinne  daies  seven 
The  large  world  forth  with  the  hevcn 
Of  his  eternal  providence 
Hath  made  and  thilke  intelligence 
In  mannes  soule  resonable, 
Wherof  the  man  of  feture 
Of  alle  erthly  creature 
After  the  soule  is  immortall, 


BOOK  VIII. 


443 


And  with  that  word  all  sodeinly 
Enclosed  in  a  steroid  sky 
Venus,  which  is  the  quene  of  love, 
Was  take  into  her  place  above, 
More   wist    I    nought    where    she 

becam. 

And  thus  my  leve  of  her  I  nam. 
And  forth  with  al  that  same  tide 

To  thilke  lord  in  speciall 

As  he,  which  is  of  alle  thinges 

The  creator  and  of  the  kinges 

Hath  the  fortune  upon  honde 

His  grace  and  mercy  for  to  fonde, 

Upon  my  bare  knees  I  pray, 

That  he  my  worthy  king  convey 

Richard  by  name  the  secounde, 

In  whom  hath  ever  yet  be  foundc 

Justice  medled  with  pite, 

Largesse  forth  with  charite, 

In  his  persone  it  may  be  shewed, 

What  is  a  king  to  be  well  thewed 

Touching  of  pite  namely, 

For  he  yet  never  unpetously 

Ayein  the  leges  of  his  londe 

For  no  defaute  which  he  fonde 

Through  cruelte  vengeaunce  sought. 

As    though    the   worldes   chaunce    in 

brought 

Of  infortune  great  debate, 
Yet  was  he  nought  infortunate, 
For  he,  which  the  fortune  ladde, 
The  highe  god  him  overspraddo 
Of  his  justice  and  kept  him  so, 
That  his  estate  stood  evermo 
Sauf  as  it  oughte  wel  to  be 
Lich  to  the  sonne  in  his  degre, 
Which  with  the  cloudes  up  alot~;e 
Is  derked  and  beshade'.ved  ofte, 
But  how  so  that  it  trouble  in  thaire 
The  sonne  is  ever  bright  and  faire 
Within  him  self  and  nought  unpeired, 
All  thodgh  the  weder  be  despeired. 
The  heved  planete  is  nought  to  witc. 
My  worthy  prince,  of  whom  I  write, 
Thus  slant  he  with  him  selve  clere 
And  doth  what  lith  in  his  powere, 
Nought  only  here  at  home  to  sekc 
Ix>ve  and  accorde,  but  outward  eke, 
As  he,  that  save  his  people  wolde. 
So  ben  we  alle  well  beholde 


Her    Prest,   which   wolde   nought 

abide, 

Or  be  ine  lefe  or  be  me  loth, 
Out  of  my  sighte  forth  he  gotb. 
And  I  was  left  withouten  helpe, 
So  wist  I  nought  wherof  to  yelpe, 
But  only  th.it  I  hadde  lore 
My  time  and  was  sorie  therfore. 

To  do  service  and  obeisauncc 
To  him,  which  of  his  high  suffraunce 
Hath  many  a  gre"at  debate  appesed 
To  make  his  lege  men  ben  esed, 
Wherefore  that  his  cronique  shall 
For  ever  be  memoriall 
To  the  loenge  of  that  he  doth. 
For  this  wote  every  man  in  soth, 
What  king  that  so  desireth  pees, 
He  taketh  the  way  which  Criste  ches, 
And  who  that  Christes  weies  sueth, 
It  proveth  well  that  he  escheueth 
The  vices  and  is  vertuous, 
Wherof  he  mot  be  gracious 
Toward  his  god  and  acceptable. 
And  so  to  make  his  regne  stable 
With  all  the  will  that  I  may  yive 
I  pray  and  shall  while  that  I  live, 
As  I  which  in  subjection 
Stonde  under  the  protection 
And  may  my  selven  nought  bewelde, 
What  for  sikenesse  and  what  for  elde, 
Which  I  receive  of  goddes  grace, 
But  though  me  lacke  to  purchace 
My  kinges  thank  as  by  deserte, 
Yet  the  simplesse  of  my  pouerte 
Unto  the  love  of  my  legeaunce 
Desireth  for  to  do  plesaunce. 
And  for  this  cause  in  min  entent 
This  pouer  book  here  I  present 
Unto  his  highe  worthinesse 
Write  of  my  simple  besinesse, 
So  as  sikenesse  it  suffre  wolde, 
And  in  such  wise  as  I  first  tolde, 
Whan  I  this  boke  began  to  make, 
In  some  partie  it  may  be  take 
And  for  to  laugh  and  for  to  pie}-, 
And  for  to  loke  in  other  wey 
It  may  be  wisdom  to  the  wise, 
So  that  somedele  for  good  apprise, 
And  eke  somedele  for  lust  and  game 
I  have  it  made  for  thilke  same. 


444 


CONFESSIO  AMANTIS. 


And    thus    bevvhaped     in    my 

thought, 

Whan  all  was  torned  into  nought, 
I  stood  amased  for  a  while, 
And  in  my  self  I  gan  to  smile, 
Thenkend  upon  the  bedes  blacke, 
And  how  they  weren  me  betake 
For  that  I  shuld£  bid  and  praie. 
And  whan  I  sigh  none  other  waie, 
But  only  that  I  was  refused, 
Unto  the  life  whiche  I  had  used 
I  thoughte  never  torne  ayein. 
And  in  this  wise  soth  to  sain 
Homward  a  softe  pas  I  went, 
Where  that  with  all  min  hole  entent, 
Upon  the  point  that  I  am  shrive, 
I  thenke  bidde  while  I  live. 


<$be,  which  withinne  daies  seven 
This  large  worlde  forth  with  the 

heven, 

Of  his  eternal  providence 
Hath  made,  and  thilke  intelligence 
In  mannes  soule  resondble 
Hath  shape  to  be  perdurable, 
Wherof  the  man  of  his  feture 
Above  all  erthly  creature 
After  the  soule  is  immortal!, 
To  thilke  lorde  in  specidll, 
As  he  which  is  of  all£  thinges 
The  Creator  and  of  the  kinges 
Hath  the  fortunes  upon  honde, 
His  grace  and  mercy  for  to  fonde, 
Upon  my  bare  knees  I  praie, 
1J)at  fye  il)i5  lonbc  in  siker  waie 
Woll  set  upon  good  governaunce. 
For  if  men  take  in  remembraunce, 
What  is  to  live  in  unite, 
There  is  no  state  in  his  degre, 
That  ne  ought  to  desire  pes, 
Withoute  which  it  is  no  les 
To  seche  and  loke  into  the  past, 
There  may  no  worldes  joie  last, 
for  to  loke  the  clergie, 


Hem  oughte  well  to  justifie 
Thing  which  belongeth  to  their  cure, 
As  for  to  praie  and  to  procure 
Our  pees  toward  the  heven  above, 
And  eke  to  sette  rest  and  love 
Among  us  on  this  erthe  here ; 
For  if  they  wrought  in  this  manere 
After  the  reule  of  charite 
I  hope  that  men  sholden  se 
This  lond  amende. 

Jlnb  over  this 

To  seche  and  loke  how  that  it  is 
Touchend  of  the  chivalerie, 
Which  for  to  loke  in  some  partie 
Is  worthie  for  to  be  commended 
And  in  some  part  to  be  amended, 
That  of  her  large  retenue 
The  lond  is  full  of  maintenue, 
Which  causeth  that  thecomun  right 
In  fewe  centres  stont  upright. 
Extortion,  contek,  ravine 
Witholde  ben  of  that  covine. 
All  day  men  here  great  compleint 
Of  the  disese,  of  the  constreint, 
Wherof  the  people  is  sore  oppressed, 
God  graunt  it  mote'  be  redressed. 
For  of  knighthode  thorder  wolde, 
That  they  defende  and  kepe  sholde 
The  comun  right  and  the  fraunchise 
Of  Holy  Chirche  in  alle  wise, 
So  that  no  wicked  man  it  dere, 
Andtherofservethshieldeandspere. 
But  for  it  goth  now  other  waie, 
Our  grace  goth  the  more  awaie. 

Jln6  for  io  lo&en  overmore, 
Wherof  the  people  pleignen  sore 
Toward  the  lawes  of  our  londe, 
Men  sain  that  trouth  hath  broke 

his  bonde 

And  with  broca"ge  is  gone  awey, 
So  that  no  man  can  se  the  wey, 
Where  for  to  finde  rightwisnesse. 

^In6  if  men  sed)  in  sikernesse 
Upon  the  lucre  of  marchandie, 
Compnssement  and  trecherie 


BOOK  VIII. 


445 


Of  singular  profit  to  winne, 
Men  sain  is  cause  of  mochel  sinne, 
And  namely  of  divisidn, 
Which  many  a  noble  worthy  town 
Fro  welth  and  fro  prosperite 
Hath  brought  to  great  adversite  ; 
So  were  it  good  to  ben  all  one. 
For  mochel  grace  therupon 
Unto  the  citees  shulde'  fall, 
Which  might  availe  to  us  all, 
If  these  estates  amended  were, 
So  that  the  Vertues  stoden  there, 
And  that  the  Vices  were  away, 
Me  thenketh  I  dorste  thanne  say, 
This  londes  grace  shulde  arise. 

^ut  get  to  lofcc  in  other  wise, 
There  is  a  state,  as  ye  shall  here, 
Above  all  other  on  erthd  here, 
Which    hath    the    londe    in    his 

balaunce  ; 

To  him  belongeth  the  legeaunce 
Ofclerke,  of  knight,  of  man  of  la  we, 
Under  his  honde  all  is  forthdrawe 
The  marchaunt  and  the  laborer, 
So  stant  it  all  in  his  powe'r 
Or  for  to  spille,  or  for  to  save. 
But  though  that  he  such  power  have, 
And  that  his  mightes  ben  so  large, 
He   hath    hem  nought   withouten 

charge 

To  which  that  euerj?  king  is  swore. 
So  were  it  good,  that  he  therfore 
First  unto  rightwisnesse  entende, 
Wherof  that  he  him  self  amende 
Toward  his  God,  and  leve  vice, 
Which  is  the  chefe  of  his  office. 
And  after  all  the  remenaunt 
He  shall  upon  his  covenaunt 
Gove'rne  and  lede  in  such  a  wise, 
So  that  there  be  no  tirannise 
Wherof  that  he  his  people  greve. 
Or  elles  may  he  nought  acheve 
That  longeth  to  his  Regalie. 
3?or  if  a  king  will  justifie 
Hislondeandhem  that  ben  withinne, 


First  at  him  self  he  mot  beginne 
To  kepe  and  reule  his  own  estate, 
That  in  him  self  be  no  debate 
Toward  his  God.     For  otherwise 
Ther  may  none  erthly  King  sumse 
Of  his  kingdom  the  folk  to  lede, 
But  he  the  King  of  Heven  drede. 
For  what  King  sette  him  upon  pride 
And  taketh  his  lust  on  every  side 
And  will  nought  go  the  righte  weie, 
Though  God  his  grace  cast  aweie, 
No  wonder  is,  for  atte  last 
He  shall  well  wite  it  may  nought  last, 
The  pompe  whiche  he  secheth  here. 
But  what  King  that  with  humble 

chere 

After  the  Lawe  of  God  escheueth 
The  Vices,  and  the  Vertues  sueth, 
His  grace  shall  be  sumsaunt 
To  governe  all  the  remenaunt, 
Which  longeth  unto  his  duete' ; 
So  that  in  his  prosperite 
The  people   shall   nought  be  op 
pressed, 

Wherof  his  name  shall  be  blessed 
For  ever  and  be  memoriall. 

Jlttfc  now  to  speke  as  in  finall 
Touchende  that  I  undertoke 
In  English  for  to  make  a  boke 
Which  stant  betwene  erne'st  and 

game, 

I  have  it  made  as  thilkd  same, 
Which  axe*  for  to  be  excused, 
And  that  my  boke  be  nought  refused 
Of  lered  men  whan  they  it  se 
For  lack  of  curiosite* ; 
For  thilke  scole  of  eloquence 
Belongeth  nought  to  my  science, 
Upon  the  forme  of  rhetorique 
My  wordes  for  to  peint  and  pike, 
As  Tullius  somtime'  wrote. 
But  this  I  knowe  and  this  I  wote, 
That  I  have  do  my  trewe'  peine 
With  rude'  worde's  and  with  pleine 


CONFESS  10  AMANTIS. 


In  all  that  ever  I  couthe  and  might. 
This  boke  to  write  as  I  benight, 
So  as  siknesse  it  suffer  wolde. 
And  also  for  my  daies  olde 
That  I  am  feble  and  impotent, 
I  wot  nought  how  the  worlde  is 

went,1 

So  pray  I  to  my  lorde's  alle, 
Now  in  min  age,  how  so  befalle, 
That  I  mot  stonden  in  her  grace. 
For  though  me  lacke*  to  purchace 
Her  worthy  thank,  as  by  deserte, 
Yet  the  simplesse  of  my  pouerte 
Desireth  for  to  do  plesaunce 
To  hem  under  whose  governaunce 
I  hope  siker  to  abide. 
But  now,  upon  my  lastd  tide, 
That  I  this  boke  have  made  and 

write, 

My  Muse*  doth  me  for  to  wite 
And  saith,  it  shall  be  for  my  beste, 
Fro  this  day  forth  to  take  reste, 
That  I  no  more  of  love  make,2 
Which  many  a  herte  hath  overtake 
And  overtorne'd  as  the  blinde 
Fro  reson  into  lawe  of  kinde, 

1  Wenty  turned. 

-  Make,  write  poetry. 


Where  as  the  wisdom  goth  aweic 
And  can  nought  se  the  righte  weie 
How  to  governe  his  own  estate, 
But  every  day  stant  in  debate 
Within  him  self  and  can  nought  leve. 

Jlno  if)xtofovf^£n>pfinaniet)e 

I  take  now  for  evermore 
Withoute  making 1  any  more 
Of  love  and  of  his  dedly  hele, 
Which  no  phisicien  can  hele. 
For  his  nature  is  so  divers, 
That  it  hath  ever  some  travers 
Or  of  to  moch  or  of  to  lite, 
That  pleinly  may  no  man  delite, 
But  if  him  faile  or  that  or  this. 
But  thilke  Love,  which  that  is 
Within  a  mannes  herte  affirmed 
And  stant  of  Charite  confirmed, 
Such  Love  is  goodly  for  to  have, 
Such  Love  may  the  body  save, 
Such  Love  may  the  soule  amende, 
The  Highe  God  such  Love  us  sende 
Forth  with  the  remenaunt  of  grace, 
So  that  above  in  thilke  place, 
Where  resteth  Love  and  alle  Pees, 
Our  joie  may  ben  endeles. 

1  Making,  writing  poems. 


Explicit  iste  liber,  qui  transeat  obsecro  liber, 
Ut  sine  livore  vigeat  lectoris  in  ore. 
Qui  sedet  in  scamnis  celi  det,  ut  ista  Johanms 
Perpetuis  annis  stet  pagina  grata  Britannis. 


BALLANTVNE   PRESS:    EDIMU'RGH    AND   LONDON. 


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1.  SHERIDAN'S  PLAYS. 

2.  PLAYS  FROM  MOLIERE.     By  ENGLISH  DRAMATISTS. 

3.  MARLOWE'S  FAUSTUS  AND  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

4.  CHRONICLE  OF  THE  CID. 

5.  RABELAIS'  GARGANTUA,  AND  THE  HEROIC  DEEDS  OF  PANTA- 

GRUEL, 

6.  THE  PRINCE.     By  MACIIIAVKLU. 

7.  BACON'S  ESSAYS. 

8.  DEFOE'S  JOURNAL  OF  THE  PLAGUE  YEAR. 

9.  LOCKE  ON  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT ;   with   SIR  ROBERT  FILMER'S 

PATRIARCHA. 

10.  BUTLER'S  ANALOGY  OF  RELIGION. 

11.  DRYDEN'S  VIRGIL. 

12.  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT'S  DEMONOLOGY  AND  WITCHCRAFT. 

13.  HERRICK'S  HESPERIDES. 

14.  COLERIDGE'S  TABLE-TALK;  with  THE  ANCIENT  MARINER  AND 

CHRISTABEL. 

15.  BOCCACCIO'S  DECAMERON. 

1 6.  STERNE'S  TRISTRAM  SHANDY. 

17.  HOMER'S  ILIAD.    Translated  by  GEORGE  CHAPMAN. 

1 8.  MEDIAEVAL  TALES. 

19.  JOHNSON'S  RASSELAS;  and  VOLTAIRE'S  CANDIDE. 

20.  PLAYS  AND  POEMS.     By  BEN  JONSON. 

21.  HOBBES'S  LEVIATHAN. 

22.  BUTLER'S  HUDIBRAS. 

23.  IDEAL    COMMONWEALTHS;    MORE'S    UTOPIA;    BACON'S    NEW 

ATLANTIS ;  and  CAMPANELLA'S  CITY  OF  THE  SUN, 

24.  CAVENDISH'S  LIFE  OF  WOLSEY. 
25  &  26.  DON  QUIXOTE  (Two  Volumes). 

27.  BURLESQUE  PLAYS  AND  POEMS. 

28.  DANTE'S  DIVINE  COMEDY.     LONGFELLOW'S  Translation. 

29.  GOLDSMITH'S  VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD,  PLAYS,  AND  POEMS. 

30.  FABLES  AND  PROVERBS  FROM  THE  SANSKRIT, 

31.  CHARLES  LAMB'S  ESSAYS  OF  ELIA. 


JHORLEYS  UNIVERSAL  Lim/dW— continued. 


32.  THE  HISTORY  OF  THOMAS  ELLWOOD.     Written  by  Himself. 

33.  EMERSON'S    ESSAYS,    REPRESENTATIVE    MEN,    AND    SOCIETY 

AND  SOLITUDE. 

34.  SOUTHEY'S  LIFE  OF  NELSON. 

35.  DE  QUINCEY'S  OPIUM-EATER,  SHAKSPEARE,  GOETHE. 

36.  STORIES  OF  IRELAND.     By  MARIA  EDGEWORTH. 

37.  THE  PLAYS  OF  ARISTOPHANES.     Translated  by  FRERE. 

38.  SPEECHES  AND  LETTERS.    By  EDMUND  BURKE. 

39.  THOMAS  A  KEMPIS'  IMITATION  OF  CHRIST. 

40.  POPULAR  SONGS  OF  IRELAND.      Collected  by  THOMAS  CROFTON 

CROKER. 

41.  THE  PLAYS  OF  -ESCHYLUS.     Translated  by  R.  POTTER. 

42.  GOETHE'S  FAUST.    The  Second  Part. 

43.  FAMOUS  PAMPHLETS. 

44.  SOPHOCLES.    Translated  by  FRANCKLIN. 

45.  TALES  OF  TERROR  AND  WONDER. 

46.  VESTIGES  OF  THE  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  CREATION. 

47.  THE  BARONS'  WARS,  &c.    By  MICHAEL  DRAYTOX. 

48.  COBBETT'S  ADVICE  TO  YOUNG  MEN. 

49.  THE  BANQUET  OF  DANTE.    Translated  by  ELIZABETH  P.  SAYER. 

50.  WALKER'S  ORIGINAL. 

51.  POEMS  AND  BALLADS  BY  SCHILLER. 

52.  PEELE'S  PLAYS  AND  POEMS. 

53.  HARRINGTON'S  OCEANA. 

54.  EURIPIDES— ALCESTIS,  &c. 

55.  ESSAYS.    By  WINTHROP  MACKWORTH  PRAED. 

56.  TRADITIONAL  TALES.    ALLAN  CUNNINGHAM. 

57.  HOOKER'S  ECCLESIASTICAL  POLITY.     Books  I.— IV. 

58.  EURIPIDES— THE  BACCHANALS,  and  other  PLAYS. 

59.  WALTON'S    LIVES    OF    DONNE,    WOTTON,    HOOKER,    GEORGE 

HERBERT,  &c. 

60.  ARISTOTLE  ON  GOVERNMENT. 

6 1.  EURIPIDES— HECUBA,  and  other  PLAYS. 

62.  RABELAIS'  HEROIC  DEEDS  OF  PANTAGRUEL.     Books  III.,  IV., 

and  V. 

63.  A  MISCELLANY.         

GEORGE  ROUTLEDGE  AND  SONS, 

LONDON,  GLASGOW,  MANCHESTER,  AND  NEW  YORK. 


o 


DEPT.  SEP  19  I960 


PR  Gower,  John 

1984.      Tales  of  the  seven  deadly 

G6  sins 

1889 


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