Chaucerian Pieces

WALTER W. SKEAT, Litt.D., D.C.L., LL.D., Ph.D.
ELRINGTON AND BOSWORTH PROFESSOR OF ANGLO-SAXON
AND FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

BEING A SUPPLEMENT TO THE
COMPLETE WORKS OF GEOFFREY CHAUCER
(OXFORD, IN SIX VOLUMES, 1894)

'And yit ye shul han better loos,

Right in dispyt of alle your foos,

Than worthy is; and that anoon.'

Hous of Fame, 1667-9.

P. 32, l. 38. Mr. Bradley suggests that maistresse is a misprint of Thynne's for maistres secrè, i.e. master's secret; alluding to John of Northampton.

P. 33, l. 75. For may it be sayd in that thinge 'this man thou demest, read may it be sayd, 'in that thinge this man thou demest,

P. 50, l. 28. For in sacke, sowed with wolle perhaps read in sacke sowed, with wolle.

P. 52, ll. 107, 109. Mr. Bradley suggests that 'Caynes' and 'Cayn' are Thynne's misprints for 'Cames' and 'Cam'; where Cam (misread as Cain) means Ham, for which the Vulgate has Cham.

P. 473; note to l. 155. Chaucer's Astrolabe was not written till 1391, after Usk's death.

§ 1. The following pieces are selected, as being the most important, from among the very numerous ones which have been appended to Chaucer's works in various editions.

I use the word 'appended' advisedly. It is not true that these works were all attributed to Chaucer in the black-letter editions. The Praise of Peace was marked as Gower's in Thynne's first edition of 1532. Another piece in that edition is attributed to Scogan. The Letter of Cupid is expressly dated 1402, though Chaucer died in 1400. The Flower of Curtesye contains the words 'Chaucer is dede'; and The Testament of Cresseid contains a remark which, in modern English, would run thus—'Who knows if all that Chaucer wrote is true?'

Those who, through ignorance or negligence, regard Thynne's edition of Chaucer as containing 'Works attributed to Chaucer' make a great mistake; and even if the mistake be excused on the ground that it has been very generally and very frequently made, this does not lessen its magnitude. The title of Thynne's book is very instructive, and really runs thus:—'The Workes of Geffray Chaucer newly printed, with dyuers workes which were neuer in print before, &c.' This is strictly and literally true; for it contains such works of Chaucer's as had previously been printed by Caxton, Wynkyn de Worde, and Julian Notary (see vol. i. p. 28), together with 'dyuers workes [of various authors] which were neuer in print before.' Which is the simple solution of the whole matter, as far as this edition is concerned. The same remarks apply to the second edition in 1542, and the third, printed about 1550. But Stowe, in 1561, altered the title so as to give it a new meaning. The title-page of his edition runs thus:—'The Woorkes of Geffrey Chaucer, newly printed with diuers [x]Addicions which were neuer in printe before.' Here the authorship of Chaucer was, for the first time, practically claimed for the whole of Thynne's volume. At the same time, Stowe did not really mean what he seems to say, for it was he who first added the words—'made by Ihon lidgate'—to the title of 'The Flower of Curtesie,' and who first assigned a title (ascribing the poem to dan Ihon lidgat) to the poem beginning 'Consider wel'; see no. 40 (vol. i. p. 33).

§ 2. It is clear that Thynne's intention was to print a collection of poems, including all he could find of Chaucer and anything else of a similar character that he could lay his hands on^[1]. In other words, the collection was, from the beginning, a collection of the Works of Chaucer and other writers; and this fact was in no way modified by the adoption by Stowe and Speght of misleading titles that actually assigned to Chaucer all the poems in the volume! See further, as to this subject, in the discussion of The Court of Love below.

The number of pieces appended, at various times, to Chaucer's Works are so numerous that I have been obliged to restrict myself to giving a selection of them only.

Of the non-Chaucerian pieces printed by Thynne in 1532, I have included all but three. The rejected pieces are those numbered 18, 21, and 22 in the list given at p. 32 of vol. i. They are all poor and uninteresting, but I add a few words of description.

18. A Praise of Women. Noticed in vol. i. p. 37. Though decisively rejected by Tyrwhitt, and excluded from Moxon's reprint, it was revived (for no good reason) by Bell, and consequently appeared in the Aldine edition, which was founded on Bell's. It enumerates the merits of womankind, and condemns the slanders of men concerning them. We ought to worship all women out of reverence for the Queen of heaven, [xi]and we shall do well to pray to Our Lady to bring us to the heaven in which she and all good women will be found. Thynne is not the sole authority for this poem, as it occurs also (in a Scottish dress) in the Bannatyne MS., fol. 275. The whole of this MS. (written in 1568) was printed for the Hunterian Club in 1873-9; see p. 799 of that edition.

21. The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen. Noticed in vol. i. p. 37. This lugubrious piece was probably the wail of a nun, who had no book but a Vulgate version of the Bible, from which all her quotations are taken. It bears no resemblance to any work by Chaucer, nor to any of the pieces in the present volume. It consists of 102 seven-line stanzas. The metre resembles Lydgate's, but the final -e is hardly ever used. Bell's text is not taken from Thynne, but from some later and inferior reprint of it. For this poem, Thynne's first edition is the sole authority.

22. The Remedy of Love. Noticed in vol. i. p. 38. It appears that the 'remedy of love' is to be found in a consideration of the wicked ways of women. Twelve whole stanzas are taken up with a metrical translation of one of the chapters in the book of Proverbs. The author refers us to 'the fifth chapter,' but he is wrong. He means chapter vii, verses 6-27. He also quotes from Ecclesiasticus, ix. 9, and xxv. 25.

Nos. 28, 29, 30 (vol. i. p. 32) are not found in Thynne, but were first printed by Stowe. I give them below, at p. 297. The first two stanzas are Lydgate's; and probably the third is his also. It is no great matter.

No. 41 (vol. i. p. 33) was also first printed by Stowe. To save words, I have printed it below, at p. 450, from the original MS.

§ 3. I now consider the non-Chaucerian pieces in Part II. of Stowe's Edition (see vol. i. p. 33). Of these, nos. 45, 50, 56, and 59 are here reprinted.

Nos. 46, 47, 48, 49, 51, 52, 53, 54, and 55 were all taken by Stowe from MS. Trin. R. 3. 19. Perhaps they are sufficiently noticed in vol. i. p. 41, as they present few points of interest. However, I enumerate them, adding a few remarks.

No. 46. The Craft of Lovers. In 23 seven-line stanzas; 161 lines. Besides the copy in the Trin. MS., there are copies (almost duplicates) in MSS. Addit. 34360, fol. 73, back (p. 142), [xii]and Harl. 2251, fol. 53 (now called 52). Dated 1448 in the Trin. MS., but 1459 in the other two. The first line ought to run:—'To moralise, who list these ballets sewe'; but it is clear that some one added the words 'A similitude' in the margin, and that this remark was afterwards incorporated in the text. Hence the first line, in the latter MSS., stands:—'To moralise a similitude who list these balettis sewe'; which is more than enough for a line of five accents. After two introductory stanzas, the poem becomes a dialogue, in alternate stanzas, between a wooer, named Cupido, and a lass, named Diana^[2]; the result of which is successful. This may be compared with La Belle Dame sans Merci, and with the Nut-brown Maid. The twenty-third stanza forms the author's Conclusio, which is followed by an Envoy in the Addit. MS., and in the Harl. MS. only. The same MSS. seem to superadd two more stanzas; but they really belong to another piece.

No. 47. Taken by Stowe from MS. Trin. R. 3. 19, fol. 156, back. A Balade. In 4 seven-line stanzas; 28 lines. Begins—'Of their nature they greatly them delite'; i.e. Women are by nature hypocrites; they like kissing live images rather than shrines. So I advise young men to take warning: 'Beware alwaye, the blind eateth many [a] flye'; a line which is quoted from Lydgate's ballad printed at p. 295. The author then prays God to keep the fly out of his dish; and ends by congratulating himself on being anonymous, because women would else blame him.

No. 48. The Ten Commandments of Love; from Trin. MS., fol. 109. Also in MS. Fairfax 16. Begins:—'Certes, ferre extendeth yet my reason.' In 14 stanzas of seven-lines; the last two form the Envoy. After two introductory stanzas, the author gives the ladies their ten commandments. They are, it appears, to exhibit Faith, Entencion, Discrecion, Patience, Secretnesse, Prudence, Perseverance, Pity, Measure [Moderation], and Mercy. In the Envoy, the author says, truly enough, that he is devoid of cunning, experience, manner of enditing, reason, and eloquence; and that he is 'a man unknown.'

No. 49. The Nine Ladies Worthy. In 9 seven-line stanzas, one stanza for each lady. Begins: 'Profulgent in preciousnes, [xiii]O Sinope the quene.' Only remarkable for the curious selection made. The Nine Ladies are: (1) Sinope, daughter of Marsepia, queen of the Amazons; see Orosius, Hist. i. 10; (2) Hippolyta, the Amazon, wife of Theseus; (3) Deipyle, daughter of Adrastus, wife of Tydeus; (4) Teuta, queen of the Illyrians; see note to C. T., F 1453 (vol. v. p. 398); (5) Penthesilea the Amazon, slain by Achilles before Troy; (6) queen Tomyris, who slew Cyrus in battle, B.C. 529; (7) Lampeto the Amazon, sister of Marsepia, and aunt of Sinope; (8) Semiramis of Babylon; (9) Menalippe or Melanippe, sister of Antiope, queen of the Amazons, taken captive by Hercules, according to Justinus, ii. 4. 23. Most of these queens are mentioned by Orosius, i. 10, ii. 1, ii. 4; see also Higden's Polychronicon, bk. ii. chapters 9, 21, 24, and bk. iii. c. 7. From the Trin. MS., fol. 113, back.

No. 51. A Ballade. Begins:—'In the season of Feuerere when it was full colde.' In 7 seven-line stanzas. In praise of the daisy. Very poor. From the Trin. MS., fol. 160.

No. 52. A Ballade. Begins—'O Mercifull and o merciable.' In 12 seven-line stanzas. The Trin. MS. has 13 stanzas; but Stowe omitted the tenth, because it coincides with st. 19 of the Craft of Lovers. It is made up of scraps from other poems. Stanzas 1-4 form part of a poem on the fall of man, from Lydgate's Court of Sapience (see vol. i. p. 57). In st. 8 occurs the assonance of hote (hot) and stroke; and in st. 9, that of cureth and renueth. From the Trin. MS., fol. 161.

No. 53. The Judgement of Paris. In 4 seven-line stanzas; the first is allotted to Pallas, who tells Paris to take the apple, and give it to the fairest of the three goddesses. After this, he is addressed in succession by Juno, Venus, and Minerva (as she is now called). Then the poem ends. Trin. MS., fol. 161, back.

No. 54. A Balade pleasaunte. Begins—'I haue a Ladie where so she bee.' In 7 seven-line stanzas. Meant to be facetious; e.g. 'Her skin is smothe as any oxes tong.' The author says that when he was fifteen years old, he saw the wedding of queen Jane; and that was so long ago that there cannot be many such alive. As Joan of Navarre was married to Henry IV in 1403, he was born in 1388, and would have been sixty-two in 1450. It is an imitation of Lydgate's poem entitled A Satirical [xiv]Description of his Lady; see Minor Poems, ed. Halliwell, p. 199. Trin. MS., fol. 205.

No. 55. Another Balade. Begins—'O mossie Quince, hangyng by your stalke.' In 4 seven-line stanzas, of which Stowe omits the second. A scurrilous performance. Trin. MS., fol. 205, back.

No. 58 is a Balade in 9 seven-line stanzas, of no merit, on the theme of the impossibility of restoring a woman's chastity.

No. 60 is a genuine poem; and no. 61 is Lydgate's Story of Thebes. And here Stowe's performance ceases.

§ 4. The subsequent additions made by Speght are discussed in vol. i. pp. 43-46. Of these, The Flower and the Leaf, Jack Upland, and Hoccleve's poem to Henry V, are here reprinted; and Chaucer's ABC is genuine. He also reprinted the Sayings at p. 450. The pieces not reprinted here are Chaucer's Dream and Eight Goodly Questions.

Chaucer's Dream is a false title, assigned to it by Speght; its proper name is The Isle of Ladies. Begins—'Whan Flora, the quene of pleasaunce.' The MS. at Longleat is said to have been written about 1550. A second MS. has been acquired by the British Museum, named MS. Addit. 10303; this is also in a hand of the sixteenth century, and presents frequent variations in the text. It is very accessible, in the texts by Moxon, Bell, and Morris; but how Tyrwhitt ever came to dream that it could be genuine, must remain a mystery. I originally hoped to include this poem in the present selection, but its inordinate length compelled me to abandon my intention. In a prologue of seventy lines, the author truthfully states, at l. 60, that he is 'a slepy^[3] writer.' There are many assonances, such as undertakes, scapes (337); named, attained (597); tender, remember (1115, 1415); rome, towne (1567). Note also such rimes as destroied, conclude (735); queen, kneen, pl. of knee (1779); nine, greene (1861); vertuous, use (1889). Some rimes exhibit the Northern dialect; as paines, straines, pr. s., 909; wawe, overthrawe, pp., 1153; servand, livand, pres. pt., 1629; greene, eene (pl. of e, eye), 1719; hand, avisand, pres. pt., 1883; &c. Yet the writer is not particular; if he wants a rime to wroth, he uses the Southern form [xv]goth, 785; but if he wants a rime to rose, he uses the Northern form gose (goes), 1287, 1523. But before any critic can associate this poem with Chaucer, he has first to prove that it was written before 1450. Moreover, it belongs to the cycle of metrical romances, being connected (as Tyrwhitt says) with the Eliduc of Marie de France; and, perhaps, with her Lanval.

To the Isle of Ladies Speght appended two other poems, of which the former contains a single stanza of 6 lines, and the latter is a ballad in 3 seven-line stanzas.

No. 66. Eight Goodly Questions; in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 421. In 9 seven-line stanzas. First printed in 1542. There are at least two manuscript copies; one in the Trinity MS., marked R. 3. 15; and another in the Bannatyne MS., printed at p. 123 of the print of the Bannatyne MS., issued by the Hunterian Club in 1873. In l. 19, the latter MS. corrects tree to coffour, the Scottish form of cofre. It is merely expanded from the first seven lines of a poem by Ausonius, printed in Walker's Corpus Poetarum Latinorum, with the title Eorundem Septem Sapientum Sententiae. This English version is quite in Lydgate's style.

I have repeatedly explained that there were but four black-letter editions of Collected Works before Speght's; and these I call Thynne's first edition (1532), Thynne's second edition (1542), the undated edition (about 1550, which I call 1550 for brevity), and Stowe's edition (1561) respectively. I shall denote these editions below by the symbols 'Th.,' ed. 1542, ed. 1550, and 'S.' respectively. Of these editions, the first is the best; the second is derived from the first; the third is derived from the second; and the fourth from the third^[4]. In every case it is useless to consult a later edition when an earlier one can be found.

The following is the list of the pieces which depend on the editions only, or for which the editions have been collated. [xvi]I always cite the earliest; that the later ones also contain the piece in question must, once for all, be understood.

Th.—I. IX. XI. XXII. Also collated for IV. V. VII. VIII. X. XII. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XXI. XXIII.

§ 6. Conversely, I here give the authorities from which each piece is derived. For further comments on some of them, see the separate introductions to each piece below.

III. Jack Upland (prose).—Early edition, Caius College library; Speght (1598).

V. Letter of Cupid (476 lines).—Th. (1532); Fairfax, Bodley, Tanner, Selden, Ashburnham, Digby MSS.; Trin. Coll. R. 3. 20; Camb. Ff. 1. 6; also in the Bannatyne MS.

VII. A Moral Balade (189).—Th. (1532); Caxton; Ashmole 59, Harl. 2251. (I also find a reference to Harl. 367, fol. 85, back.)

VIII. Complaint of the Black Knight (681).—Th. (1532); Fairfax, Bodley, Tanner, Digby, Selden, Pepys; Addit. 16165. Also printed, separately, by Wynkyn de Worde (n. d.); and at Edinburgh, by Chepman and Miller, in 1508.

XIII. Beware of Doubleness (104).—Stowe (1561); Fairfax 16, Ashmole 59, Harl. 7578, Addit. 16165.

XIV. A Balade: Warning Men (49).—Stowe (1561); Harl. 2251, fol. 149, back; Trin. R. 3. 19; Trin. O. 9. 38.

XVI. La Belle Dame sans Mercy (856).—Th.; Fairfax, Harl. 372; Camb. Ff. 1. 6; Trin. R. 3. 19, fol. 98.

XVIII. The Cuckoo and the Nightingale (290).—Th.; Fairfax, Bodley, Tanner, Selden; Camb. Ff. 1. 6.

Of this piece no MS. copy has been discovered. The only authority is Thynne's edition of 1532, whence all later editions have been copied more or less incorrectly. The reprints will be found to grow steadily worse, so that the first edition is the only one worth consulting.

The present edition is printed from a transcript of Thynne (1532), made by myself; the proof-sheets being carefully read with the original. In making the transcript, I have altered the symbol u to v, when used as a consonant; and (in the few places where it occurs) the consonantal i to j. I have also substituted i for y when the vowel is short, chiefly in the case of the suffix -yng or -ynge, here printed -ing or -inge. In nearly all other cases, the original spellings are given in the footnotes. Thynne's chief errors of printing occur in places where he has persistently altered the spelling of the MS. to suit the spelling in fashion in the days of Henry VIII. His chief alterations are as follows. He prints ea for open ee, written ee or e at the beginning of the fifteenth century; thus, he has ease for ese, and please for plese. He most perversely adds a useless final e to the words howe, nowe, and some others; and he commits the anachronism of printing father, mother, together, wether, gather, in place of fader, moder, togeder, weder, gader; whereas the termination in these words invariably appears as -der till shortly before 1500. Further, he prints catche for cacche, perfection for perfeccion, and the like; and in several other [xix]ways has much impaired the spelling of his original. Many of these things I have attempted to set right; and the scholar who compares the text with the footnotes will easily see why each alteration has been made, if he happens to be at all conversant with MSS. written in the fourteenth century.

I believe that this piece is almost unparalleled as regards the shameful corruption of its text. It cannot be supposed that Thynne or any one else ever read it over with the view of seeing whether the result presented any sense. Originally written in an obscure style, every form of carelessness seems to have been employed in order to render it more obscure than before. In a great number of places, it is easy to restore the sense by the insertion of such necessary words as of, or but, or by. In other places, non-existent words can be replaced by real ones; or some correction can be made that is more or less obvious. I have marked all inserted words by placing them within square brackets, as, e.g., am in l. 46 on p. 6. Corrections of readings are marked by the use of a dagger (†); thus 'I †wot wel' in l. 78 on p. 7 is my emendation of Thynne's phrase 'I wol wel,' which is duly recorded in the footnote. But some sentences remain in which the sense is not obvious; and one is almost tempted to think that the author did not clearly know what he intended to say. That he was remarkable for a high degree of inaccuracy will appear presently.

A strange misprint occurs in Book III. ch. 4, ll. 30, 31 (p. 117), where nearly two whole lines occur twice over; but the worst confusion is due to an extraordinary dislocation of the text in Book III. (c. iv. l. 56—c. ix. l. 46), as recently discovered by the sagacity of Mr. H. Bradley, and explained more fully below.

I have also, for the first time, revised the punctuation, which in Thynne is only denoted by frequent sloping strokes and full stops, which are not always inserted in the right places. And I have broken up the chapters into convenient paragraphs.

§ 8. A very curious point about this piece is the fact which I was the first to observe, viz. that the initial letters of the various chapters were certainly intended to form an acrostic. Unfortunately, Thynne did not perceive this design, and has certainly begun some of the chapters either with the wrong letter or at a wrong place. The sense shews that the first letter of Book I. ch. viii. should be E, not O (see the note); and, with this [xx]correction, the initial letters of the First Book yield the words—MARGARETE OF.

In Book II, Thynne begins Chapters XI and XII at wrong places, viz. with the word 'Certayn' (p. 86, l. 133), and the word 'Trewly' (p. 89, l. 82). He thus produces the words—VIRTW HAVE MCTRCI. It is obvious that the last word ought to be MERCI, which can be obtained by beginning Chapter XI with the word 'Every,' which suits the sense quite as well.

For the chapters of Book III, we are again dependent on Thynne. If we accept his arrangement as it stands, the letters yielded are—ON THSKNVI; and the three books combined give us the sentence:—MARGARETE OF VIRTW, HAVE MERCI ON THSKNVI. Here 'Margarete of virtw' means 'Margaret endued with divine virtue'; and the author appeals either to the Grace of God, or to the Church. The last word ought to give us the author's name; but in that case the letters require rearrangement before the riddle can be read with certainty.

After advancing so far towards the solution of the mystery, I was here landed in a difficulty which I was unable to solve. But Mr. H. Bradley, by a happy inspiration, hit upon the idea that the text might have suffered dislocation; and was soon in a position to prove that no less than six leaves of the MS. must have been out of place, to the great detriment of the sense and confusion of the argument. He very happily restored the right order, and most obligingly communicated to me the result. I at once cancelled the latter part of the treatise (from p. 113 to the end), and reprinted this portion in the right order, according to the sense. With this correction, the unmeaning THSKNVI is resolved into the two words THIN USK, i.e. 'thine Usk'; a result the more remarkable because Mr. Bradley had previously hit upon Usk as being the probable author. For the autobiographical details exactly coincide, in every particular, with all that is known of the career of Thomas Usk, according to Walsingham, the Rolls of Parliament, and the continuation of Higden's Polychronicon by John Malverne (ed. Lumby, vol. ix. pp. 45-6, 134, 150, 169); cf. Lingard, ed. 1874, iii. 163-7.

The date of the composition of this piece can now be determined without much error. Usk was executed on March 4, 1388, and we find him referring to past events that happened towards the end of 1384 or later. The most likely date is about 1387. [xxi]I here append an exact account of the order of the text as it appears in Thynne; every break in the text being denoted, in the present volume, by a dark asterisk.

Thynne's text is in a correct order from p. 1 to p. 118, l. 56:—any mouable tyme there (Th. fol. 354, col. 2, l. 11)^[5].

(1) Next comes, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 135, l. 94:—Fole, haue I not seyd—and ending at p. 143, l. 46:—syth god is the greatest loue and the (Th. fol. 356, back, col. 1, l. 5).

(2) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 131, l. 97:—ne ought to loke thynges with resonnyng—and ending at p. 132, l. 161, at the end of a chapter (Th. fol. 356, back, col. 2, last line).

(3) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 124, l. 8:—Now trewly, lady—and ending at p. 128, at the end of the chapter (Th. fol. 357, last line).

(4) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 132, new chapter:—Uery trouth (quod she)—and ending at p. 135, l. 94:—that shal bringe out frute that (Th. fol. 358, back, col. 1, l. 25).

(5) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 118, l. 56:—is nothyng preterit ne passed—and ending at p. 124, l. 7:—euer to onbyde (Th. fol. 360, col. 1, l. 24).

(6) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 128, new chapter:—Nowe, lady (quod I) that tree to set—and ending at p. 131, l. 97:—vse ye (Th. fol. 360, back, col. 2, l. 9).

(7) Lastly, the text reverts to the true order, at p. 143, l. 46, with the words:—greatest wisdom (Th. fol. 360, back, col. 2, l. 9. as before). See The Athenæum, no. 3615, Feb. 6, 1897.

It is not difficult to account for this somewhat confusing dislocation. It is clear that the original MS. was written on quires of the usual size, containing 8 folios apiece. The first 10 quires, which we may call a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, and k, were in the right order. The rest of the MS. occupied quire l (of 8 folios), and quire m (of only 2); the last page being blank. The seventh folio of l was torn up the back, so that the two leaves parted company; and the same happened to both the folios in quire m, leaving six leaves loose. What then happened was this:—first of all, folios l₁—l₄, were reversed and turned inside out; then [xxii]came the former halves of m₁, and m₂, and the latter half of l₇; next l₅ and l₆ (undetached), with the former half of l₇ thrust in the middle; so that the order in this extraordinary quire was as follows: l₄, l₃, l₂, l₁, all inside out, half of m₁, half of m₂, the latter half of l₇, l₅, l₆, and the former half of l₇, followed by the six undetached leaves. The last quire simply consisted of l₈ (entire), followed by the latter halves of m₂ and m₁, which were kept in the right order by the fact that the last page was blank.

It has thus become possible for us to make some progress towards the right understanding of the work, which has hitherto been much misunderstood. Warton (Hist. E. Poetry, 1840, ii. 218) dismisses it in two lines:—'It is a lover's parody of Boethius's book De Consolatione mentioned above'; whereas the author was not a lover at all, except in a spiritual sense. Even the fuller account in Morley's English Writers (1890), v. 261, is not wholly correct. The statement is there made, that 'it professes to be written, and probably was written, by a prisoner in danger of his life'; but the prison^[6] may have been at first metaphorical, as he could hardly have written the whole work in two or three months. In Book iii. ch. 9, ll. 131, 132, he prays that 'God's hand, which has scourged him in mercy, may hereafter mercifully keep and defend him in good plight.' The whole tone of the treatise shews that he is writing to justify himself, and thinks that he has succeeded. But a stern doom was close at hand.

§ 9. The truth is that the attempts of Godwin and others to make the autobiographical statements of the author fit into the life of Chaucer, have quite led the critics out of the right track. That the author was not Chaucer is perfectly obvious to every one who reads the passage in the lower half of p. 140 with moderate attention; for the author there refers to Chaucer as Love's 'noble philosophical poet in English,' who wrote a treatise of Love's servant Troilus, and who 'passeth all other makers in wit and in good reason of sentence'; praise which, however true it may be of Chaucer, the writer was certainly not entitled to claim for himself. The sole point in which the circumstances of the author agree with those of Chaucer is this—that they were both born in London; which is, obviously, too slight a coincidence to build [xxiii]upon. Now that we know the author's name to have been Thomas Usk, the matter assumes quite another complexion. Usk was much inclined, in his early days, to a belief in Lollard opinions; but when he found that persistence in such belief was likely to lead to trouble and danger, he deemed it prudent to recant as completely as he could^[7], and contemplates his consequent security with some complacency.

In just the same way, it appears that he had changed sides in politics. We first find him in the position of confidential clerk to John of Northampton, mayor of London in 1381-2 and 1382-3. In July, 1384, Usk was arrested and imprisoned in order to induce him to reveal certain secrets implicating Northampton. This he consented to do, and accused Northampton before the king at Reading, on the 18th of August. Northampton strenuously denied the charges against him, but was condemned as guilty, and sent to Corfe castle^[8]. After this, Usk joined the party of Sir Nicholas Brembre, mayor of London in 1383-4, 1384-5, and 1385-6, and Collector of Customs in 1381-3, when Chaucer was Comptroller of the same. Brembre had been active in procuring the condemnation of Northampton, and was, at the close of 1386, one of the few personal adherents who remained faithful to the king. In 1387, Richard was busily devising means for the overthrow of the duke of Gloucester's regency, Brembre and Usk being on the king's side; but his attempts were unsuccessful, and, in November of the same year, the duke of Gloucester and his partisans, who were called the 'appellants,' became masters of the situation; they accused the king's councillors of treason, and imprisoned or banished their opponents. On Feb. 3, 1388, the appellants produced their charges against their victims, Brembre and Usk being among the number. Both were condemned and executed, Brembre on Feb. 20, and Usk on the 4th of March. Usk's offence was that he had been appointed sub-sheriff of Middlesex by Brembre's influence^[9], with a view to the arrest of the duke of Gloucester and others of his party. His defence was that all that he had done was by the king's orders, a defence on which he doubtless relied. Unfortunately for him, it was [xxiv]an aggravation of his crime. It was declared that he ought to have known that the king was not at the time his own master, but was acting according to the counsel of false advisers; and this sealed his fate. He was sentenced to be drawn, hung, and beheaded, and that his head should be set up over Newgate. The sentence was barbarously carried out; he was hung but immediately cut down, and clumsily beheaded by nearly thirty strokes of a sword. 'Post triginta mucronis ictus fere decapitatus semper usque ad mortem nunquam fatebatur se deliquisse contra Johannem Northampton, sed erant omnia vera quae de eo praedicaverat coram rege in quodam consilio habito apud Radyngum anno elapso.'—Higden, App. 169. John of Malverne speaks as if he had some personal recollection of Usk, of whom he says—'Satagebat namque astu et arte illorum amicitiam sibi attrahere quos procul dubio ante capitales hostes sibi fuisse cognovit,'—Ib. p. 45.

We can now readily understand that Usk's praise of Chaucer must have been more embarrassing than acceptable; and perhaps it was not altogether without design that the poet, in his House of Fame, took occasion to let the world know how he devoted his leisure time to other than political subjects.

§ 10. Some of the events of his life are alluded to by Usk in the present treatise. He justifies his betrayal of Northampton (p. 26, ll. 53-103, p. 28, ll. 116-201), and is grateful for the king's pardon (p. 60, ll. 120-4). He refers to his first imprisonment (p. 60, l. 104), and tells us that he offered wager of battle against all who disputed his statements (p. 60, l, 116; p. 31, l. 10); but no one accepted the wager.

He further tells us how he endeavoured to make his peace with the Church. Taking his cue from the parable of the merchantman seeking goodly pearls (p. 16, l. 84), he likens the visible Church of Christ to the pearl of great price (p. 145, l. 103; p. 94, l. 121), and piteously implores her mercy (p. 8, l. 135); and the whole tone of the piece shews his confidence that he is reasonably safe (p. 144, l. 120). He sees clearly that lollardy is unacceptable, and indulges in the usual spiteful fling against the cockle (lolia) which the Lollards were reproached with sowing (p. 48, l. 93). He had once been a heretic (p. 99, l. 29), and in danger of 'never returning' to the true Church (p. 99, l. 38); but he secured his safety by a full submission (p. 105, l. 133). [xxv]

At the same time, there is much about the piece that is vague, shifty, and unsatisfactory. He is too full of excuses, and too plausible; in a word, too selfish. Hence he has no real message for others, but only wishes to display his skill, which he does by help of the most barefaced and deliberate plagiarism. It was not from the Consolatio Philosophiae of Boethius, but from the English translation of that work by Chaucer, that he really drew his materials; and he often takes occasion to lift lines or ideas from the poem of Troilus whenever he can find any that come in handy. In one place he turns a long passage from the House of Fame into very inferior prose. There are one or two passages that remind us of the Legend of Good Women (i. pr. 100, ii. 3. 38, iii. 7. 38); but they are remarkably few. But he keeps a copy of Chaucer's Boethius always open before him, and takes from it passage after passage, usually with many alterations, abbreviations, expansions, and other disfigurements; but sometimes without any alteration at all. A few examples will suffice, as a large number of parallel passages are duly pointed out in the Notes.

§ 11. In Chaucer's Boethius (bk. i. pr. 3. 10), when Philosophy, the heavenly visitant, comes to comfort the writer, her first words are:—'O my norry, sholde I forsaken thee now?' In the Testament (p. 10, l. 37), Heavenly Love commences her consolations with the same exclamation:—'O my nory, wenest thou that my maner be, to foryete my frendes or my servaunts?' The Latin text—'An te, alumne, desererem?'—does not suggest this remarkable mode of address.

This, however, is a mere beginning; it is not till further on that plagiarisms begin to be frequent. At first, as at p. 37, the author copies the sense rather than the words; but he gradually begins to copy words and phrases also. Thus, at p. 43, l. 38, his 'chayres of domes' comes from Chaucer's 'heye chayres' in bk. i. met. 5. 27; and then, in the next line, we find 'vertue, shynende naturelly ... is hid under cloude,' where Chaucer has 'vertu, cler-shyninge naturelly is hid in derke derknesses'; bk. i. met. 5. 28. At p. 44, l. 66, we have: 'Whan nature brought thee forth, come thou not naked out of thy moders wombe? Thou haddest no richesse'; where Chaucer has: 'Whan that nature broughte thee forth out of thy moder wombe, I receyved thee naked, and nedy of alle thinges'; bk. ii. pr. 2. 10. Just a few lines [xxvi]below (ll. 71-76) we have the sense, but not the words, of the neighbouring passage in Chaucer (ll. 23-25). Further literal imitations are pointed out in the Notes to l. 85 in the same chapter, and elsewhere. See, for example, the Notes to Book ii. ch. iv. 4, 14, 20, 61; ch. v. 15, 57, 65, 67, 79; ch. vi. 11, 30, 74, 117, 123, 129, 132, 143; ch. vii. 8, 14, 20, 23, 30, 39, 50, 74, 95, 98, 105, 109, 114, 117, 130, 135, 139, 148; &c.

'O! a noble thing and clere is power, that is not founden mighty to kepe himselfe'; (p. 70, l. 20).

'O! a noble thing and a cleer thing is power, that is nat founden mighty to kepen it-self'; Ch. Boeth. bk. iii. pr. 5. 5-7.

The Latin text is: 'O praeclara potentia quae nec ad conseruationem quidem sui satis efficax inuenitur.' I see no reason for supposing that the author anywhere troubled himself to consult the Latin original. Indeed, it is possible to correct errors in the text by help of Chaucer's version; see the last note on p. 461.

§ 12. We get the clearest idea of the author's method by observing his treatment of the House of Fame, 269-359. It is worth while to quote the whole passage:—

If the reader will now turn to p. 54, l. 45, and continue down to l. 81 on the next page, he will find the whole of this passage turned into prose, with numerous cunning alterations and a few insertions, yet including all such words as are printed above in italics! That is, he will find all except the proverb in ll. 290, 291; but this also is not far off; for it occurs over the leaf, on p. 56, at l. 115, and again at p. 22, ll. 44-45! Surely, this is nothing but book-making, and the art of it does not seem to be difficult.

§ 13. The author expressly acknowledges his admiration of Troilus (p. 140, l. 292); and it is easy to see his indebtedness to that poem. He copies Chaucer's curious mistake as to Styx being a pit (p. 3, l. 80, and the note). He adopts the words let-game (p. 18, l. 124) and wiver (p. 129, l. 27). He quotes a whole line from Troilus at p. 27, l. 78 (see note); and spoils another one at p. 34, ch. viii. l. 5, a third at p. 80, l. 116, and a fourth at p. 128, ch. vii. l. 2. We can see whence he took his allusion to 'playing raket,' and to the dock and nettle, at p. 13, ll. 166, 167; and the phrase to 'pype with an yvè-lefe' at p. 134, l. 50.

It is further observable that he had read a later text of Piers Plowman with some care, but he seems to quote it from memory, as at p. 18, l. 153, and p. 24, l. 118. A few other passages in which he seems to have taken ideas from this popular and remarkable poem are pointed out in the Notes. It is [xxviii]probable that he thence adopted the words legistres and skleren; for which see the Glossary, and consult the Notes for the references which are there given.

§ 14. The author is frequently guilty of gross inaccuracies. He seems to confuse Cain with Ham (p. 52, ll. 107, 109), but Cayn, says Mr. Bradley, may be Thynne's misprint for Cam, i.e. Ham. He certainly confuses Perdiccas with Arrhidæus (p. 52, l. 116). He speaks of the eighth year, instead of the seventh, as being a sabbatical year, and actually declares that the ordinary week contains seven working-days (p. 24, ll. 102-104)! He tells us that Sunday begins 'at the first hour after noon (!) on Saturday' (p. 82, l. 163). Hence it is not to be wondered at that some of his arguments and illustrations are quite unintelligible.

§ 15. The title of the work, viz. The Testament of Love, readily reminds us of the passage in Gower already quoted in vol. iii. p. xliii., in which the goddess Venus proposes that Chaucer should write 'his testament of love,' in order 'to sette an ende of alle his werke.' I have already explained that the real reference in this passage is to the Legend of Good Women; but I am not prepared, at present, to discuss the connection between the expression in Gower and the treatise by Usk. The fact that our author adopted the above title may have led to the notion that Chaucer wrote the treatise here discussed; but it is quite clear that he had nothing to do with it.

Professor Morley well says that 'the writer of this piece uses the word Testament in the old Scriptural sense of a witnessing, and means by Love the Divine Love, the Christian spirit encouraging and directing the wish for the grace of God, called Margaret, the pearl beyond all price.' To which, however, it is highly essential to add that Margaret is not used in the sense of 'grace' alone, but is also employed, in several passages, to signify 'the visible Church of Christ.' The author is, in fact, careful to warn us of the varying, the almost Protean sense of the word at p. 145, where he tells us that 'Margarite, a woman [i.e. properly a woman's name], betokeneth grace, lerning, or wisdom of god, or els holy church.' His object seems to have been to extend the meaning of the word so as to give him greater scope for ingenuity in varying his modes of reference to it. He has certainly succeeded in adding to the obscurity of his subject. That by 'holy church' he meant the visible Church of Christ of his [xxix]own time, appears from the remarkable assertion that it is 'deedly,' i.e. mortal (p. 94, l. 121). Such an epithet is inapplicable to the Church in its spiritual character. It may also be observed that, however much the sense implied by Margarite may vary, it never takes the meaning which we should most readily assign to it; i.e. it never means a live woman, nor represents even an imaginary object of natural human affection. The nearest approach to such an ideal is at p. 94, l. 114, where we are told that the jewel which he hopes to attain is as precious a pearl as a woman is by nature.

§ 16. It hardly seems worth while to give a detailed analysis of the whole piece. An analysis of the First Book (which is, on the whole, the best) is given by Professor Morley; and the hints which I have already given as to the character and situation of the author will enable the reader to regard the treatise from a right point of view. But it is proper to observe that the author himself tells us how he came to divide the work into three books^[10], and what are the ideas on which each book is founded. Each of the three books has an introductory chapter. That to the First Book I have called a Prologue; and perhaps it would have been strictly correct to have called the first chapters of the other books by the same name. In the introductory chapter to the Third Book, p. 101, he declares that the First Book is descriptive of Error, or Deviation (which the editions print as Demacion!); the Second, of Grace; and the Third, of Joy. In other words, the First Book is particularly devoted to recounting the errors of his youth, especially how he was led by others into a conspiracy against the state and into deviation from orthodoxy. In the Prologue, he excuses himself for writing in English, and announces the title of the work. He then assures us that he is merely going to gather up the crumbs that have fallen from the table, and to glean handfuls of corn which Boethius has dropped. 'A sly servant in his own help is often much commended'; and this being understood, he proceeds to help himself accordingly, as has already been explained.

§ 17. Book I: Ch. I. In Chapter I, he describes his misery, [xxx]and hopes that the dice will turn, and implores the help of Margaret, here used (apparently) to typify the grace of God. He represents himself as being in prison, in imitation of Boethius; but I suspect that, in the present passage, the prison was metaphorical. (He had been imprisoned in 1384, and in 1387 was imprisoned again; but that is another matter.)

Ch. II. Heavenly Love suddenly appears to him, as Philosophy appeared to Boethius, and is ready to console and reclaim him. She is aware of his losses, and he tries to vindicate his constancy of character.

Ch. III. He describes how he once wandered through the woods at the close of autumn, and was attacked by some animals who had suddenly turned wild. To save himself, he embarks on board a ship; but the reader is disappointed to find that the adventure is wholly unreal; the ship is the ship of Travail, peopled by Sight, Lust, Thought, and Will. He is driven on an island, where he catches a glimpse of Love, and finds a Margaret, a pearl of price. He appeals to Love to comfort him.

Ch. IV. Love first reproves and then consoles him. She enquires further into his complaints.

Ch. V. She advises him to contemn such as have spoken against him. He complains that he has served seven years for Rachel, and prays for comfort in his eighth year. She exhorts him to perseverance.

Ch. VI. He here goes into several details as to his previous conduct. The authorities threatened to keep him in prison, unless he would reveal a certain secret or plot. He was afraid that the peace of his native place, London, would suffer; and to procure its peace, he 'declared certain points.' Being charged upon oath to reveal certain secret dealings, he at once did so; for which he incurred much odium.

Ch. VII. To prove that he had only spoken the truth, he offered wager of battle; and was justified by the fact that no one accepted it. He had not perjured himself, because his oath in the law-court was superior to his former oath of secrecy. He only meant truth, but was sadly slandered. It is absurd to be 'a stinking martyr' in a false cause.

Ch. VIII. Love tells him he has greatly erred, and must expect much correction. Earthly fame should be despised, whilst he looks for the fame that comes after death. [xxxi]

Ch. IX. Love vindicates the greatness of God and the goodness of His providence.

Ch. X. The author complains of his hard fortune; he has lost his goods and has been deprived of his office. Love explains that adversity teaches salutary lessons, and that the true riches may still be his own.

§ 18. Book II. In the first chapter (or Prologue) of the Second Book, he again discusses the object of his work. In Chapter II, Love sings him a Latin song, introducing complaints against the clergy such as frequently occur in Piers the Plowman. In Chapter III, we find a discourse on womankind, largely borrowed from Chaucer's House of Fame. The next eight chapters are chiefly devoted to a discussion of the way by which the repentant sinner may come to 'the knot' of Heavenly bliss; and it is here, in particular, that a large portion of Chaucer's Boethius is freely imitated or copied. The last three chapters recount the excellences of Margaret, which in many passages refers rather to the visible Church than to divine Grace.

§ 19. Book III. The first chapter is again introductory, explaining why the number of Books is three. 'The Margaret in virtue is likened to Philosophy, with her three kinds.' It is remarkable that this Third Book, which is dedicated to Joy, is the dullest of the three, being largely taken up with the questions of predestination and free will, with more borrowings from Chaucer's Boethius. In Chapter V, Love explains how continuance in good will produces the fruit of Grace; and, in Chapters VI and VII, shews how such grace is to be attained. Chapter IX recurs to the subject of predestination; after which the work comes to a formal conclusion, with excuses for its various imperfections.

This piece does not appear in Thynne's first edition of 1532, but occurs, for the first time, in the second edition of 1542, where it is added at the end of the Canterbury Tales, after the Parson's Tale. In the next (undated) edition, probably printed about 1550, it is placed before the Parson's Tale, as if it were really Chaucer's, and the same arrangement occurs in the fourth edition, that of 1561, by John Stowe. It is worth mentioning that some booksellers put forward a fable as to the true date of the undated [xxxii]edition being 1539, in order to enhance the value of their copies; but the pretence is obviously false, as is shewn by collation^[11]; besides which, it is not likely that the Plowman's Tale would have been at first inserted before the Parson's Tale, then placed after it, and then again placed before it. It is best to separate the first four editions by nearly equal intervals, their dates being, respectively, 1532, 1542, about 1550, and 1561.

Comparison of the black-letter editions shews that the first is the best; and the later ones, being mere reprints, grow gradually worse. Hence, in this case, the edition of 1542 is the sole authority, and the readings of the inferior copies may be safely neglected. It is remarkable that Mr. T. Wright, in his edition of this poem printed in his Political Poems and Songs, i. 304, should have founded his text upon a reprint of Speght in 1687, when he might have taken as his authority a text more than 140 years older. The result is, naturally, that his text is much worse than was at all necessary.

According to Speght, there was once a MS. copy of this piece in Stowe's library, but no one knows what became of it. According to Todd, in his Illustrations of Gower and Chaucer, p. xxxix, there was once a black-letter edition of it, entitled 'The Plouuman's tale compylled by syr Geffray Chaucer knyght.' Todd says: 'It is of the duodecimo size, in the black letter, without date, and imprinted at London in Paules churche-yarde at the sygne of the Hyll, by Wyllyam Hyll. I have compared with the poem as printed by Urry forty or fifty lines, and I found almost as many variations between them^[12]. The colophon of this book is, Thus endeth the boke of Chaunterburye Tales. This rarity belongs to the Rev. Mr. Conybeare, the present Professor of the Saxon language in the University of Oxford.' This edition can no longer be traced. Hazlitt mentions a black-letter edition of this piece, printed separately by Thomas Godfray (about 1535), on twenty leaves; of which only one copy is known, viz. that at Britwell. There is also a late print of it in the Bodleian Library, dated 1606.

§ 21. It is needless to discuss the possibility that Chaucer wrote this Tale, as it is absent from all the MSS.; and it does not [xxxiii]appear that the ascription of it to him was taken seriously. It is obvious, from the introductory Prologue (p. 147), that the author never intended his work to be taken for Chaucer's; he purposely chooses a different metre from any that occurs in the Canterbury Tales, and he introduces his Ploughman as coming under the Host's notice quite suddenly, so that the Host is constrained to ask him—'what man art thou?' The whole manner of the Tale is conspicuously and intentionally different from that of Chaucer; and almost the only expression which at all resembles Chaucer occurs in ll. 51, 52:—

Chaucer himself, before reciting his Tale of Melibeus, said much the same thing:—

I do not know why Mr. Wright, when reprinting this piece, omitted the Prologue. It is a pity that half of the sixth stanza is missing.

It is generally agreed that the author here claims to have previously written the well-known piece entitled Pierce the Ploughman's Crede, which I edited for the Early English Text Society in 1867. I then took occasion to compare the language of these two pieces (which I shall shortly call the Crede and the Tale), and I found ample confirmation, from internal evidence, that the claim is certainly true. There are many similarities of expression, some of which I here lay before the reader.

The Crede is written in alliterative verse; and it will be observed that alliteration is employed in the Tale very freely. Another peculiarity in the Tale may here be noticed, viz. the use of the same rime, fall or befall, throughout Part I, with the exception of ll. 205-228. Indeed, in the first line of Part II, the author apologizes for being unable to find any more rimes for fall, and proceeds to rime upon amend throughout that Part. In Part III, he begins to rime upon grace in the first two stanzas, but soon abandons it for the sake of freedom; however, at l. 1276, he recurs to grace, and continues to rime upon it till the end. It is clear that the author possessed considerable facility of expression. We can date these pieces approximately without much error. The proceedings against Walter Brute, expressly alluded to in the Crede, l. 657, lasted from Oct. 15, 1391, to Oct. 6, 1393, when he submitted himself to the bishop of Hereford. We may well date the Crede about 1394, and the Tale (which probably soon followed it, as the author repeats some of his expressions) about 1395^[13].

Both these pieces are written in a spirited style, and are of considerable interest for the light which they throw upon many [xxxv]of the corrupt practices of the monks, friars, and clergy. The Crede is directed against the friars in particular, and reflects many of the opinions of Wyclif, as will easily appear by comparing it with Wyclif's works. See, in particular, his Fifty Heresies and Errors of Friars (Works, ed. Arnold, iii. 366). It would have been easy to crowd the Notes with quotations from Wyclif; but it is sufficient to point out so obvious a source. I have not observed any passage in which the author copies the exact language of Langland. The dialect seems to be some form of Midland, and is somewhat archaic; many of the verbal forms are of some value to the philologist. Taken altogether, it is a piece of considerable interest and merit. Ten Brink alludes to it as 'that transparent, half-prophetic allegory of the Quarrel between the Griffin and the Pelican'; and adds—'The Griffin was the representative of the prelates and the monks, the Pelican that of real Christianity in Wyclif's sense. At a loss for arguments, the Griffin calls in at last all the birds of prey in order to destroy its rival. The Phoenix, however, comes to the help of the Pelican, and terribly destroys the robber-brood.'

Tyrwhitt observed, with great acuteness, that Spenser's allusion, in the Epilogue to his Shepheards Calender, to 'the Pilgrim that the Ploughman playde awhyle,' may well refer to the author of the Plowman's Tale rather than to Langland^[14]. Cf. p. 147, l. 12. It was natural that Spenser should mention him along with Chaucer, because their productions were bound up together in the same volume; a volume which was, to Spenser, a treasure-house of archaic words.

The discussion on points of religion between the Griffin and the Pelican clearly suggested to Dryden his discussion between the Hind and the Panther. His choice of quadrupeds in place of birds is certainly no improvement.

Of this piece, no MS. copy is known. It is usually said to have been first printed by Speght, in his second edition of Chaucer's Works in 1602; but I have been so fortunate as to find a better [xxxvi]and earlier text in the library of Caius College, Cambridge, to which my attention was drawn by a note in Hazlitt's Bibliographer's Handbook. This copy, here taken as the basis of my text, and collated with Speght, is a small book consisting of only 16 leaves. The title-page contains the following words, within a square border. ¶ Jack vp Lande | Compyled by the | famous Geoffrey | Chaucer. | Ezechielis. xiii. | ¶ Wo be vnto you that | dishonour me to me (sic) peo | ple for an handful of bar | lye & for a pece of bread. | Cum priuilegio | Regali.

At the end of the treatise is the colophon: ¶ Prynted for Ihon Gough. Cum Priuilegio Regali.

Hazlitt conjectures that it was printed about 1540. I think we may safely date it in 1536; for it is bound up in a volume with several other tracts, and it so happens that the tract next following it is by Myles Coverdale, and is dated 1536, being printed in just the very same type and style. We can also tell that it must have been printed after 1535, because the verse from Ezekiel xiii, as quoted on the title-page (see above), exactly corresponds with Coverdale's version of the Bible, the first edition of which appeared in that year.

The text of Jack Upland, in the Caius College copy, has the following heading, in small type:—'¶ These bē the lewed questions of Freres rytes and obseruaunces the whych they chargen more than Goddes lawe, and therfore men shulden not gyue hem what so they beggen, tyll they hadden answered and clerely assoyled these questions.'

As this copy is, on the whole, considerably superior to Speght's both as regards sense and spelling, I have not given his inferior readings and errors. In a very few places, Speght furnishes some obvious corrections; and in such instances his readings are noted.

§ 24. A very convenient reprint of Speght's text is given in Wright's edition of Political Poems and Songs (Record Series), vol. ii. p. 16. In the same volume, p. 39, is printed a reply to Jack Upland's questions by a friar who facetiously calls himself Friar Daw Topias, though it appears (from a note printed at p. 114) that his real name was John Walsingham. Nor is this all; for Friar Daw's reply is further accompanied by Jack Upland's rejoinder, printed, for convenience, below Friar Daw's text. It is most likely, as Mr. Wright concludes, that all three pieces may be [xxxvii]dated in the same year. It was necessary that Friar Daw (who gave himself this name in order to indicate that he is a comparatively unlearned man, yet easily able to refute his audacious questioner) should produce his reply at once; and we may be sure that Jack's rejoinder was not long delayed. Fortunately, the date can be determined with sufficient exactness; for Jack's rejoinder contains the allusion: 'and the kyng by his juges trwe [sholde] execute his lawe, as he did now late, whan he hangid you traytours,' p. 86. This clearly refers to June, 1402^[15], when eight Franciscan friars were hanged at Tyburn for being concerned in a plot against the life of Henry IV. We may, accordingly, safely refer all three pieces to the year 1402; shortly after Chaucer's death.

§ 25. It is also tolerably clear that there must have been two texts of 'Jack Upland,' an earlier and a later one. The earlier one, of which we have no copy, can easily be traced by help of Friar Daw's reply, as he quotes all that is material point by point. It only extended as far as the 54th question in the present edition (p. 199); after which followed two more questions which do not here reappear. The later copy also contains a few questions, not far from the beginning, which Friar Daw ignores. It is clear that we only possess a later, and, on the whole, a fuller copy. One of the omitted questions relates to transubstantiation; and, as any discussion of it was extremely likely, at that date, to be ended by burning the disputant at the stake, it was certainly prudent to suppress it. Not perceiving this point, Mr. Wright too hastily concluded that our copy of Jack Upland is extremely corrupt, a conclusion quite unwarranted; inasmuch as Friar Daw, in spite of his affectation of alliterative verse, quotes his adversary's questions with reasonable correctness. On this unsound theory Mr. Wright has built up another, still less warranted, viz. that the original copy of Jack Upland must have been written in alliterative verse; for no other reason than because Friar Daw's reply is so written. It is obvious that alliteration is conspicuously absent, except in the case of the four lines (424-7), which are introduced, by way of flourish, at the end. My own belief is that our copy of Jack Upland is a second edition, i.e. an amended and extended [xxxviii]copy, which has been reasonably well preserved. It is more correct than the Plowmans Tale, and very much more correct than the Testament of Love.

§ 26. Mr. Wright further imagines that Jack Upland's rejoinder to Friar Daw's reply, which he prints from 'a contemporary MS. in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, MS. Digby 41,' was also originally in alliterative verse. This supposition is almost as gratuitous as the former; for, although there are very frequent traces of alliteration as an occasional embellishment, it is otherwise written in ordinary prose. The mere chopping up of prose into bits of not very equal length, as in Mr. Wright's print, does not produce verse of any kind. Friar Daw's verses are bad enough, as he did not understand his model (obviously the Ploughman's Crede), but he usually succeeds in making a kind of jingle, with pauses, for the most part, in the right place. But there is no verse discoverable in Jack Upland; he preferred straightforward prose, for reasons that are perfectly obvious.

For further remarks, I beg leave to refer the reader to Mr. Wright's Introduction, pp. xii-xxiv, where he will find an excellent summary of the arguments adduced on both sides. There is a slight notice of Jack Upland in Morley's English Writers, vi. 234.

In Morley's English Writers, iv. 157, this poem is entitled 'De Pacis Commendatione,' on MS. authority (see p. 216). Mr. E. B. Nicholson, who has made a special study of Gower's poems, suggested 'The Praise of Peace,' which I have gladly adopted. I am much obliged to Mr. Nicholson for his assistance in various ways; and, in particular, for the generous loan of his own transcript of this poem.

§ 28. In Todd's Illustrations of Gower and Chaucer, p. 95, is a notice of a MS. 'in the present Marquis of Stafford's library at Trentham,' which had been previously described in Warton's Hist. of E. Poetry as being 'in Lord Gower's library.' Mr. Wright alludes to it as 'a contemporary MS. in the possession of his grace the duke of Sutherland.' It may be called 'the Trentham MS.' 'The Praise of Peace' was printed from it by Mr. Wright, in his Political Poems and Songs, ii. 4-15; and I have followed his text, which I denote by 'T.' At the same time, I have [xxxix]collated it with the text of Thynne's edition of 1532, which is a very good one. The differences are slight.

Warton describes the MS. as 'a thin oblong MS. on vellum, containing some of Gower's poems in Latin, French, and English. By an entry in the first leaf, in the handwriting and under the signature of Thomas lord Fairfax, Cromwell's general, an antiquarian, and a lover and collector of curious manuscripts, it appears that this book was presented by the poet Gower, about 1400^[16], to Henry IV; and that it was given by lord Fairfax to his friend and kinsman Sir Thomas Gower, knight and baronet, in the year 1656.' He goes on to say that Fairfax had it from Charles Gedde, Esq., of St. Andrews; and that it was at one time in the possession of King Henry VII, while earl of Richmond, who wrote in it his own name in the form 'Rychemond.'

The MS. contains (1) The Praise of Peace, preceded by the seven Latin lines (386-392), which I have relegated to the end of the poem, as in Thynne. The title is given in the colophon (p. 216); after which follow the twelve Latin lines (393-404), printed on the same page. (2) Some complimentary verses in Latin, also addressed to Henry IV, printed in Wright's Political Poems, ii. 1-3. (3) Fifty Balades in French, which have been printed by Stengel (Warton prints four of them), with the colophon—'Expliciunt carmina Johīs Gower que Gallice composita Balades dicuntur.' (4) Two short Latin poems in elegiacs; see Warton. (5) A French poem on the Dignity or Excellence of Marriage. (6) Seventeen Latin hexameters. (7) Gower's Latin verses on his blindness, beginning—

§ 29. The poem itself may safely be dated in the end of 1399, for reasons given in the note to l. 393. It is of some interest, as being Gower's last poem in English, and the spirit of it is excellent, though it contains no very striking lines. We have not much of Gower's work in the form of seven-line stanzas. The Confessio Amantis contains only twelve such stanzas; iii. 349-352. I draw attention to the earliest known reference (l. 295) to the game of 'tenetz'; the enumeration of the nine worthies (ll. 281-3); [xl]and the reference to a story about Constantine which, in the Confessio Amantis, is related at considerable length (l. 339).

We may compare with this poem the stanzas in praise of peace in Hoccleve's De Regimine Principum, quoted in Morley's English Writers (1890), vol. vi. pp. 131-2.

This poem needs little discussion. It is known to be Hoccleve's; see Dr. Furnivall's edition of Hoccleve's Minor Poems, E. E. T. S., 1892, p. 72. As explained in the notes, it is rather closely imitated from the French poem entitled L'Epistre au Dieu d'Amours, written by Christine de Pisan. At the end of her poem, Christine gives the date of its composition, viz. 1399; and Hoccleve, in like manner, gives the date of his poem as 1402. The poem consists of sixty-eight stanzas, of which not more than eighteen are wholly independent of the original. The chief original passages are ll. 176-189, 316-329, and 374-434.

The poem is entirely occupied with a defence of women, such as a woman might well make. It takes the form of a reproof, addressed by Cupid to all male lovers; and is directed, in particular, against the sarcasms of Jean de Meun (l. 281) in the celebrated Roman de la Rose.

Of this poem there are several MS. copies; see footnotes at p. 217. The best is probably the Ashburnham MS., but it has not yet been printed. I chiefly follow MS. Fairfax 16, which Dr. Furnivall has taken as the basis of his text.

There is also a poor and late copy in the Bannatyne MS., at fol. 269; see the print of it for the Hunterian Club, 1879; p. 783.

These two Balades, also by Hoccleve, were composed at the same time. The former is addressed to King Henry V, and the latter to the Knights of the Garter. They are very closely connected with a much longer poem of 512 lines, which was addressed to Sir John Oldcastle in August, 1415; and must have been written at about that date. It was natural enough that, whilst addressing his appeal to Oldcastle to renounce his heresies, the poet should briefly address the king on the same subject at the [xli]same time. I think we may safely date this piece, like the other, in August, 1415.

The remarkable likeness between the two pieces appears most in the references to Justinian and to Constantine. In fact, the reference to Justinian in l. 3 of the former of the Balades here printed would be unintelligible but for the full explanation which the companion poem affords. I have quoted, in the note to l. 3, the Latin note which is written in the margin of st. 24 of the address to Oldcastle; and I quote here the stanza itself:—

We may regret that Hoccleve's desire to make an example of heretics was so soon fulfilled. Only three years later, in Dec. 1418, Sir John Oldcastle was captured in Wales, brought up to London, and publicly burnt.

My text follows the sole good MS. (Phillipps 8151); which I have collated with the earliest printed text, that of 1542. There is, indeed, another MS. copy of the poem in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge (R. 3. 15); but it is only a late copy made from the printed book.

The heading to this poem is from MS. Ashmole 59; it is, unfortunately, somewhat obscure. It is, of course, not contemporaneous with the poem, but was added, by way of note, by John Shirley, when transcribing it. In fact, the third son of Henry IV was not created duke of Bedford till 1415, after the accession of Henry V; whereas Henry V is here referred to as being still 'my lord the Prince.' Hence the poem was written in the reign of Henry IV (1399-1413); but we can easily come much nearer than this to the true date. We may note, first of [xlii]all, that Chaucer is referred to as being dead (l. 65); so that the date is after 1400. Again, the poem does not appear to have been recited by the author; it was sent, in the author's handwriting, to the assembled guests (l. 3). Further, Scogan says that he was 'called' the 'fader,' i.e. tutor, of the young princes (l. 2); and that he sent the letter to them out of fervent regard for their welfare, in order to warn them (l. 35). He regrets that sudden age has come upon him (l. 10), and wishes to impart to them the lessons which the approach of old age suggests. All this points to a time when Scogan was getting past his regular work as tutor, though he still retained the title; which suggests a rather late date. We find, however, from the Inquisitiones post Mortem (iii. 315), that Henry Scogan died in 1407, and I have seen it noted (I forget where) that he only attained the age of forty-six. This shews that he was only relatively old, owing, probably, to infirm health; and we may safely date the poem in 1406 or 1407, the latter being the more likely. In 1407, the ages of the young princes were nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, and sixteen respectively, and it is not likely that Scogan had been their tutor for more than twelve years at most. This provisional date of 1407 sufficiently satisfies all the conditions.

The four sons of Henry IV were Henry, prince of Wales, born at Monmouth in 1388; Thomas, born in 1389, and created duke of Clarence in 1412; John, born in 1390, created duke of Bedford in 1415; and Humphrey, born in 1391, created duke of Gloucester in 1414.

§ 33. The expression at a souper of feorthe merchande is difficult, and I can only guess at the sense. Feorthe is Shirley's spelling of ferthe, i.e. fourth. Merchande is probably equivalent to O.F. marchandie or marchandise. Godefroy gives an example of the latter in the sense of 'merchant's company.' I suppose that feorthe merchande means 'fourth meeting of merchants,' or the fourth of the four quarterly meetings of a guild. Toulmin Smith, in his English Gilds, p. 32, says that quarterly meetings for business were common; though some guilds met only once, twice, or thrice in the course of a year.

The Vintry is described by Stow in his Survey of London (ed. Thoms, p. 90): 'Then next over against St. Martin's church, is a large house built of stone and timber, with vaults for the stowage of wines, and is called the Vintry.... In this [xliii]house Henry Picard [lord mayor in 1356-7] feasted four kings in one day.'

I may add to the note about Lewis John (vol. i. p. 84), that he was a person of some note. In 1423 (Feb. 8), 'Ludowicus Johan, armiger, constitutus est seneschall et receptor generalis ducatus Cornub.': see Ordinances of the Privy Council, iii. 24. He is further mentioned in the same, ii. 334, 342.

Chaucer's Balade on Gentilesse, quoted in full in ll. 105-125, is in seven-line stanzas; and is thus distinguished from the rest of the poem, which is written in eight-line stanzas. It may be noted that Scogan's rimes are extremely correct, if we compare them with Chaucer's as a standard.

Of this piece there are two early printed copies, one by Caxton, and one by Thynne (1532); and two MSS., Ashmole 59 and Harl. 2251. It is remarkable that the printed copies are better than the MSS. as regards readings.

Such is the title in Thynne's edition (1532). In MS. F. (Fairfax 16), it is entitled—'Complaynte of a Loveres Lyfe'; and there is a printed edition with the title—'The Complaynte of a Louers Lyfe. Imprynted at London in the flete strete at the sygne of the Sonne, by Wynkyn de Worde'; no date, 4to. on twelve leaves. In MS. S. (Arch. Selden, B. 24), there is an erroneous colophon—'Here endith the Maying and disporte of Chaucere'; which gives the wrong title, and assigns it to the wrong author. In accordance with the last MS., it was printed, with the erroneous title—'Here begynnys the mayng or disport of chaucer'—in a volume 'Imprentit in the south gait of Edinburgh be Walter chepman and Androw myllar the fourth day of aperile the yhere of god . M.CCCCC. and viii yheris' [1508]; and this scarce copy was reprinted as piece no. 8 in The Knightly Tale of Golagrus and Gawane, &c., as reprinted by Laing in 1827.

But the fullest title is that in MS. Ad. (Addit. 16165), written out by John Shirley, who says: 'And here filowyng begynnethe a Right lusty amorous balade, made in wyse of a complaynt of a Right worshipfulle Knyght that truly euer serued his lady, [xliv]enduryng grete disese by fals envye and malebouche; made by Lydegate' (fol. 190, back). Some of the pages have the heading, 'The compleynte of a Knight made by Lidegate^[17].'

This attribution of the poem to Lydgate, by so good a judge as Shirley, renders the authorship certain; and the ascription is fully confirmed by strong internal evidence. Much of it is in Lydgate's best manner, and his imitation of Chaucer is, in places, very close; while, at the same time, it is easy to point out non-Chaucerian rimes, such as whyte, brighte, 2; pitously, malady (Ch. maladyë), 137; felyngly, malady, 188; mente, diligent, 246; grace, alas, 529; seyn, payn (Ch. peynë), 568; diurnal, fal, (Ch. falle), 590; payn, agayn, 650; queen (Ch. quene), seen, 674. Besides which, there are two mere assonances in two consecutive stanzas, viz. forjuged, excused, 274; and wreke, clepe, 284. The occurrence of this pair of assonances is quite enough to settle the question. If we apply a more delicate test, we may observe that, in ll. 218-220, the word sōre (with long o) rimes with tore, in which the o was originally short; on this point, see vol. vi. p. xxxii.

As to this poem, Ten Brink well remarks: 'His talent was fairly qualified for a popular form of the 'Complaint'—a sort of long monologue, interwoven with allegory and mythology, and introduced by a charming picture of nature. His Complaint of the Black Knight, which contains reminiscences from the Romance of the Rose, the Book of the Duchesse, and the Parlement of Foules, was long considered a production of Chaucer's, and is still frequently included in editions of his works—although with reservations. The critic, however, will not be deceived by the excellent descriptive passages of this poem, but will easily detect the characteristic marks of the imitator in the management of verse and rhyme, and especially in the diffusiveness of the story and the monotony even of the most important parts.'

§ 35. Lydgate's reminiscences of Chaucer are often interesting. In particular, we should observe the passages suggested by the Roman de la Rose in ll. 36-112; for we are at once reminded of Chaucer's own version of it, as preserved in Fragment A of the Romaunt. After noticing that he uses costey (36) for the F. costoiant, where Chaucer has costeying (134); and attempre (57) [xlv]where Chaucer has attempre (131), though one French text has atrempee, it is startling to find him reproducing (80) Chaucer's very phrase And softe as veluët (R. R. 1420), where the French original has nothing corresponding either to soft or to velvet! This clearly shews that Lydgate was acquainted with Fragment A of the English version, and believed that version to be Chaucer's; for otherwise he would hardly have cared to imitate it at all.

The date of this poem is discussed in the Introduction to Schick's edition of the Temple of Glas, by the same author; pp. c, cxii. He dates it in Lydgate's early period, or about A.D. 1402.

The text is based upon Thynne's edition, which is quite as good as the MSS., though the spellings are often too late in form. The late excellent edition by E. Krausser (Halle, 1896) reached me after my text was printed. His text (from MS. F.) has much the same readings, and is accompanied by a full Introduction and eleven pages of useful notes.

This piece has no author's name prefixed to it in the first three editions; but in the fourth edition by Stowe, printed in 1561, the title is: 'The Floure of Curtesie, made by Iohn lidgate.' Probably Stowe had seen it attributed to him in some MS., and made a note of it; but I know of no MS. copy now extant.

Few poems bear Lydgate's impress more clearly; there can be no doubt as to its authorship. Schick refers it to Lydgate's early period, and dates it about 1400-1402; see his edition of the Temple of Glas, p. cxii. As it was written after Chaucer's death (see l. 236), and probably when that sad loss was still recent, we cannot be far wrong if we date it about 1401; and the Black Knight, a somewhat more ambitious effort, about 1402.

The 'Flour of Curtesye' is intended as a portrait of one whom the poet honours as the best of womankind. The character is evidently founded on that of Alcestis as described in the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women; and throughout the piece we are frequently reminded of Chaucer; especially of the Legend, the Complaint of Mars, and the Parliament of Foules.

The Envoy presents a very early example of the four-line stanza, similar to that employed in Gray's famous Elegy. [xlvi]

This piece is attributed to 'Lidegate of Bury' in the Ashmole MS. no. 59; and the ascription is obviously correct. It abounds with evident marks of his peculiar style of metre; for which see Schick's Introduction to the Temple of Glas, p. lvi. We note in it a few reminiscences of Chaucer, as pointed out in the Notes; in particular, it was probably suggested by Chaucer's A B C, which furnished hints for ll. 27, 60, and 129. It is perhaps worth while to add that we have thus an independent testimony for the genuineness of that poem.

As an illustration of Lydgate's verse, I may notice the additional syllable after the cæsura, which too often clogs his lines. Thus in l. 8 we must group the syllables thus:—

Wherefór : now pláynly : I wól : my stýlë : dréssë. Similarly, we find lícour in l. 13, pítè (18), líving (24), bémës (25), gínning (31), mércy (33), gárden (36), &c., all occupying places where a monosyllable would have been more acceptable.

The poem is strongly marked by alliteration, shewing that the poet (usually in a hurry) took more than usual pains with it. In the seventh stanza (43-49) this tendency is unmistakably apparent.

It is hardly possible to assign a date to a poem of this character. I can only guess it to belong to the middle period of his career; say, the reign of Henry V. We have not yet obtained sufficient data for the arrangement of Lydgate's poems.

§ 38. Lines 121-127 are here printed for the first time. In the old editions, l. 120 is succeeded by l. 128, with the result that Sion (120) would not rime with set afere (129); but the scribe of the Ashmole MS. was equal to the emergency, for he altered l. 129 so as to make it end with fuyrless thou sette vppon, which is mere nonsense. Thynne has fyrelesse fyre set on, which is just a little better.

This addition of seven lines was due to my fortunate discovery of a new MS.; for which I was indebted to the excellent MS. 'Index of First Lines' in the British Museum. This told me that a poem (hitherto unrecognised) existed in MS. Sloane 1212, of which the first line is 'A thousand stories,' &c. On examining the MS., it turned out to be a copy, on paper, of Hoccleve's De Regimine Principum, with four leaves of vellum at the beginning, [xlvii]and two more at the end, covered with writing of an older character. The two vellum leaves at the end were then transposed, but have since been set right, at my suggestion. They contain a few lines of the conclusion of some other piece, followed by the unique complete copy of the present Balade. This copy turned out to be much the best, and restored several of the readings. Indeed, the Ashmole MS. is very imperfect, having in it a lacuna of eight stanzas (ll. 64-119). I am thus able to give quite a presentable text.

The correction that most interested me was one in l. 134, where the Ashmole MS. and Thynne have probatyf piscyne. On June 5, 1896, I read a paper at the Philological Society, in which (among other things) I pointed out that the right reading must certainly be probatik. The very next day I found the Sloane MS.; and behold, its reading was probatyk! It is not often that a 'conjectural emendation' is confirmed, on unimpeachable authority, within twenty-four hours.

Another remarkable correction is that of dyamaunt for dyametre in l. 87. It was all very well to compare Our Lady to a diamond; but to call her a diameter (as in all the editions) is a little too bad. Again, in l. 121 (now first printed) we have the remarkable expression punical pome for a pomegranate, which is worthy of notice; and in l. 123 we find a new word, agnelet, which is not to be found in the New English Dictionary.

All the printed editions print the next piece as if it formed a part of the present one; but they have absolutely no point in common beyond the fact of having a common authorship.

In all the old editions, this piece forms part of the preceding, though it is obviously distinct from it, when attention is once drawn to the fact. Instead of being addressed, like no. X, to the Virgin, it is addressed to a lady whose name the poet wishes to commend (l. 7); and from whom he is parted (51); whereas two lovers ought to be together, if they wish to live 'well merry' (64). Her goodly fresh face is a merry mirror (73); and he has chosen her as his Valentine (111).

It is evidently a conventional complimentary poem, written to please some lady of rank or of high renown (93), one, in fact, [xlviii]who is 'of women chief princesse' (70). It is prettily expressed, and does Lydgate some credit, being a favourable specimen of his more playful style; I wish we had more of the same kind. L. 68—'Let him go love, and see wher [whether] it be game'—is excellent.

I shall here submit to the reader a pure guess, for what it is worth. My impression is that this piece, being a complimentary Valentine, was suggested by queen Katherine's visit to England; the lover whose passion is here described being no other than king Henry V, who was parted from his queen for a week. The pair arrived at Dover on Feb. 2, 1421, and Henry went on to London, arriving on Feb. 14; the queen did not arrive till Feb. 21, just in time for her coronation on Feb. 23.

This hypothesis satisfies several conditions. It explains why the lover's English is not good enough to praise the lady; why so many French lines are quoted; the significant allusion to the lily, i.e. the lily of France, in l. 16; the lover's consolation found in English roundels (40); the expression 'cheef princesse' in l. 70; and the very remarkable exclamation of Salve, regina, in l. 83, which doubtless made Thynne imagine that the poem was addressed to the Virgin Mary. The expression 'for your departing' in l. 105 does not necessarily mean 'on account of your departure from me'; it is equally in accordance with Middle-English usage to suppose that it means 'on account of your separation from me'; see Depart and Departing in the New English Dictionary.

It is well known that Lydgate provided the necessary poetry for the entry of Henry VI into London in Feb. 1432.

Some resemblances to Chaucer are pointed out in the Notes. The most interesting circumstance about this poem is that the author quotes, at the end of his third stanza, the first line of 'Merciles Beautè'; this is a strong point in favour of the attribution of that poem to his master.

This piece is distinguished from the preceding by the difference of its subject; by the difference in the character of the metre (there is here no alliteration); and, most significant of all, by its absence from MS. Ashmole 59 and MS. Sloane 1212, both of which contain the preceding piece. The two poems may have been brought together, in the MS. which Thynne followed, by the accident of being written about the same time. [xlix]

The title of this piece in Stowe's edition stands as follows: 'A balade of good counseile, translated out of Latin verses into Englishe, by dan Iohn lidgat cleped the monke of Buri.' What were the Latin verses here referred to, I have no means of ascertaining.

This Ballad is eminently characteristic of Lydgate's style, and by no means the worst of its kind. When he once gets hold of a refrain that pleases him, he canters merrily along till he has absolutely no more to say. I think he must have enjoyed writing it, and that he wrote it to please himself.

He transgresses one of Chaucer's canons in ll. 79-82; where he rimes hardy with foly and flatery. The two latter words are, in Chaucer, foly-ë and flatery-ë, and never rime with a word like hardy, which has no final -e.

Lydgate is very fond of what may be called catalogues; he begins by enumerating every kind of possibility. You may be rich, or strong, or prudent, &c.; or fair (22) or ugly (24); you may have a wife (29), or you may not (36); you may be fat (43), or you may be lean (46); or staid (57), or holy (64); your dress may be presentable (71), or poor (72), or middling (73); you may speak much (78) or little (80); and so on; for it is hard to come to an end. At l. 106, he begins all over again with womankind; and the conclusion is, that you should govern your tongue, and never listen to slander.

Thynne's text is not very good; the MSS. are somewhat better. He makes the odd mistake of printing Holynesse beautie for Eleynes beaute (115); but Helen had not much to do with holiness. Two of the stanzas (71-7 and 106-112) are now printed for the first time, as they occur in the MSS. only. Indeed, MS. H. (Harl. 2251) is the sole authority for the former of these two stanzas.

This is a favourable example of Lydgate's better style; and is written with unusual smoothness, owing to the shortness of the lines. It was first printed in 1561. There is a better copy in the Fairfax MS., which has been taken as the basis of the text. The copy in MS. Ashmole 59 is very poor. The title—'Balade [l]made by Lydgate'—occurs in MS. Addit. 16165. Stowe, being unacquainted with the phrase ambes as (l. 78), though it occurs in Chaucer, turned ambes into lombes, after which he wrongly inserted a comma; and lombes appears, accordingly, in all former editions, with a comma after it. What sense readers have hitherto made of this line, I am at a loss to conjecture.

First printed by Stowe in 1561, from the MS. in Trinity College Library, marked R. 3. 19, which I have used in preference to the printed edition.

There is another, and more complete copy in the same library, marked O. 9. 38, which has contributed some excellent corrections. Moreover, it gives a better arrangement of stanzas three and four, which the old editions transpose. More than this, it contains a unique stanza (36-42), which has not been printed before.

The poem also occurs in Shirley's MS. Harl. 2251, which contains a large number of poems by Lydgate; and is there followed by another poem of seven stanzas, attributed to Lydgate. That the present poem is Lydgate's, cannot well be doubted; it belongs to the same class of his poems as no. XII above. I find it attributed to him in the reprint of 'Chaucer's Poems' by Chalmers, in 1810.

The substitution of the contracted and idiomatic form et for the later form eteth is a great improvement. It is due to MS. O. 9. 38, where the scribe first wrote ette, but was afterwards so weak as to 'correct' it to etyth. But this 'correction' just ruins the refrain. Et was no doubt becoming archaic towards the middle of the fifteenth century.

Two variations upon the last stanza occur in the Bannatyne MS., fol. 258, back; see the print by the Hunterian Club, 1879, pp. 754, 755.

First printed by Stowe; I know of no MS. copy. The first two Sayings are attributed to Lydgate; so we may as well credit him with the third. The second expresses the same statements as the first, but varies somewhat in form; both are founded upon a Latin line which occurs in MS. Fairfax 16 (fol. 196) and in MS. Harl. [li]7578 (fol. 20), and runs as follows:—'Quatuor infatuant, honor, etas, femina, uinum.'

Note that these Three Sayings constitute the only addition made by Stowe to Thynne in 'Part I' of Stowe's edition. See nos. 28, 29, 30 in vol. i. p. 32. Stowe introduced them in order to fill a blank half-column between nos. 27 and 31.

First printed in Thynne's Chaucer (1532). Tyrwhitt first pointed out that it could not possibly be his, seeing that Alan Chartier's poem with the same name, whence the English version was made, could not have been written in Chaucer's lifetime. Chartier was born in 1386, and was only fourteen years old at the time of Chaucer's death. Tyrwhitt further stated that the author's name, Sir Richard Ros, was plainly given in MS. Harl. 372, fol. 61, where the poem has this title:—'La Belle Dame Sanz Mercy. Translatid out of Frenche by Sir Richard Ros.' I have not been able to find the date of the French original, as there is no modern edition of Chartier's poems; but it can hardly have been written before 1410, when the poet was only twenty-four years old; and the date of the translation must be later still. But we are not wholly left to conjecture in this matter. A short notice of Sir Richard Ros appeared in Englische Studien, X. 206, written by H. Gröhler, who refers us to his dissertation 'Ueber Richard Ros' mittelenglische übersetzung des gedichtes von Alain Chartier La Belle Dame sans Mercy,' published at Breslau in 1886; of which Dr. Gröhler has most obligingly sent me a copy, whence several of my Notes have been derived. He tells us, in this article, that his dissertation was founded on the copy of the poem in MS. Harl. 372, which (in 1886) he believed to be unique; whereas he had since been informed that there are three other MSS., viz. Camb. Ff. 1. 6, Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 19, and Fairfax 16; and further, that the Trinity MS. agrees with the Harleian as to misarrangement of the subject-matter^[18]. He also proposed to give a new edition of the poem in Englische Studien, but I am unable to find it; and Dr. Kölbing courteously informs me that it never appeared. [lii]

Dr. Gröhler further tells us, that Mr. Joseph Hall, of Manchester, had sent him some account, extracted from the county history of Leicestershire by Nichols, of the family of Roos or Ros, who were lords of Hamlake and Belvoir in that county. According to Nichols, the Sir Richard Ros who was presumably the poet, was the second son of Sir Thomas Ros; and Sir Thomas was the second son of Sir W. Ros, who married Margaret, daughter of Sir John Arundel. If this be right, we gain the further information that Sir Richard was born in 1429^[19], and is known to have been alive in 1450, when he was twenty-one years old.

The dates suit very well, as they suggest that the English poem was written, probably, between 1450 and 1460, or at the beginning of the second half of the fifteenth century; which sufficiently agrees with the language employed and with the probable age of the MSS. The date assigned in the New English Dictionary, s.v. Currish, is 1460; which cannot be far wrong. It can hardly be much later.

§ 45. The above notice also suggests that, as Sir Richard Ros was of a Leicestershire family, the dialect of the piece may, originally at least, have been North Leicestershire. Belvoir is situate in the N.E. corner of Leicestershire, not far from Grantham in Lincolnshire, and at no great distance from the birthplace of Robert of Brunne. It is well known that Robert of Brunne wrote in a variety of the Midland dialect which coincides, to a remarkable extent, with the form of the language which has become the standard literary English. Now it is easily seen that La Belle Dame has the same peculiarity, and I venture to think that, on this account, it is worth special attention. If we want to see a specimen of what the Midland literary dialect was like in the middle of the fifteenth century, it is here that we may find it. Many of the stanzas are, in fact, remarkably modern, both in grammar and expression; we have only to alter the spelling, and there is nothing left to explain. Take for example the last stanza on p. 301 (ll. 77-84):—

A large number of stanzas readily lend themselves to similar treatment; and this is quite enough to dissociate the poem from Chaucer. The great difficulty about modernising Chaucer is, as every one knows, his use of the final -e as a distinct syllable; but we may search a whole page of La Belle Dame without finding anything of the kind. When Sir Richard's words have an extra syllable, it is due to the suffix -es or the suffix -ed; and even these are not remarkably numerous; we do not arrive at cloth-ës, a plural in -es, before l. 22; and, in the course of the first four stanzas, all the words in -ed are awak-ed, nak-ed, vex-ed, tourn-ed, and bold-ed, none of which would be surprising to a student of Elizabethan poetry. That there was something of a Northern element in Sir Richard's language appears from the rime of long-es with song-es, in ll. 53-55; where longes is the third person singular of the present tense; but modern English has belongs, with the same suffix! Again, he constantly uses the Northern possessive pronoun their; but modern English does the same!

§ 46. Another remarkable point about the poem is the perfect smoothness and regularity of the metre in a large number of lines, even as judged by a modern standard. The first line—'Half in a dream, not fully well awaked'—might, from a metrical point of view, have been written yesterday. It is a pity that the poem is somewhat dull, owing to its needless prolixity; but this is not a little due to Alan Chartier. Sir Richard has only eight stanzas of his own, four at the beginning, and four at the end; and it is remarkable that these are in the seven-line stanza, while the rest of the stanzas have eight lines, like their French original, of which I here give the first stanza, from the Paris edition of 1617, p. 502. (See l. 29 of the English version.)

I have cited in the Notes a few passages of the original text which help to explain the translation.

§ 47. The text in Thynne is a good one, and it seemed convenient to make it the basis of the edition; but it has been carefully controlled by collation with MS. Ff. 1. 6, which is, in some respects, the best MS. I am not sure that Thynne always followed his MS.; he may have collated some other one, as he professes in some cases to have done. MS. Ff. 1. 6, the Trinity MS., and Thynne's principal MS. form one group, which we may call A; whilst the Fairfax and Harleian MSS. form a second group, which we may call B: and of these, group A is the better. The MSS. in group B sadly transpose the subject-matter, and give the poem in the following order; viz. lines 1-428, 669-716, 525-572, 477-524, 621-668, 573-620, 429-476, 717-856. The cause of this dislocation is simple enough. It means that the B-group MSS. were copied from one in which three leaves, each containing six stanzas, were misarranged. The three leaves were placed one within the other, to form a sheet, and were written upon. Then the outer pair of these leaves was turned inside out, whilst the second and third pair changed places. This can easily be verified by making a little book of six leaves and numbering each page with the numbers 429-452, 453-476, 477-500, 501-524, &c. (i.e. with 24 lines on a page, ending with 716), and then misarranging the leaves in the manner indicated.

The copy in MS. Harl. 372 was printed, just as it stands, by Dr. Furnivall, in his volume entitled Political, Religious, and Love Poems, published for the E. E. T. S. in 1866; at p. 52. The text is there, accordingly, misarranged as above stated.

There is another MS. copy, as has been said above, in MS. Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 19; but I have not collated it. It seems to be closely related to MS. Ff., and to present no additional information. Not only do the MSS. of the A-group contain the text in the right order, but they frequently give the better readings. Thus, in l. 47, we have the odd line—'My pen coud never have knowlege what it ment'; as given in MS. Ff., the Trinity MS., and Thynne. The word pen is altered to eyen in MSS. H. and F.; nevertheless, it is perfectly right, for the French original has plume; see the Note on the line. Other examples are given in the Notes. [lv]

In l. 174, MS. Ff. alone has the right reading, apert. I had made up my mind that this was the right reading even before consulting that MS., because the old reading—'One wyse nor other, prevy nor perte'—is so extremely harsh. There is no sense in using the clipped form of the word when the true and usual form will scan so much better. See C. T., F 531, Ho. Fame, 717. The Trinity MS. gets out of the difficulty by a material alteration of the line, so that it there becomes—'In any wyse, nether preuy nor perte.'

I do not suppose this was ever supposed to be Chaucer's even by Thynne. Line 64—'Quha wait gif all that Chaucer wrait was trew?'—must have settled the question from the first. No doubt Thynne added it simply as a pendant to Troilus, and he must have had a copy before him in the Northern dialect, which he modified as well as he could. Nevertheless, he gives us can for the Southern gan in l. 6, wrate for wrote in l. 64, and has many similar Northern forms.

The poem was printed at Edinburgh in 1593 with the author's name. The title is as follows—¶ The Testament of CRESSEID, Compylit be M. Robert Henrysone, Sculemai-ster in Dunfermeling. Imprentit at Edin = burgh be Henrie Charteris. MD. XCIII. The text is in 4to, ten leaves, black-letter. Only one copy has been preserved, which is now in the British Museum; but it was reprinted page for page in the volume presented by Mr. Chalmers to the Bannatyne Club in 1824. The present edition is from this reprint, with very few modifications, such as sh for sch, and final -y for final -ie in immaterial cases. All other modifications are accounted for in the footnotes below. No early MS. copy is known; there was once a copy in the Asloan MS., but the leaves containing it are lost.

Thynne's print must have been a good deal altered from the original, to make it more intelligible. It is odd to find him altering quhisling (20) to whiskyng, and ringand (144) to tynkyng. I note all Thynne's variations that are of any interest. He must have been much puzzled by aneuch in (which he seems to have regarded as one word and as a past participle) before he turned it into enewed (110). But in some cases Thynne gives us real help, as I will now point out. [lvi]

In l. 48, E. (the Edinburgh edition) has—'Quhill Esperus reioisit him agane'; where Esperus gives no good sense. But Thynne prints esperous, which at once suggests esperans (hope), as opposed to wanhope in the preceding line.

In l. 155, E. has frosnit, which Laing interprets 'frozen,' as if the pp. of freeze could have both a strong and weak pp. suffix at the same moment! But Thynne has frounsed, evidently put for fronsit, as used elsewhere by Henryson in The Fable of the Paddock and the Mous, l. 43:—'The Mous beheld unto her fronsit face.' A printer's error of sn for ns is not surprising.

In ll. 164, 178, 260, E. has gyis or gyse; but Thynne has preserved the true Chaucerian word gyte, which the printer evidently did not understand. It is true that in l. 164 he turned it into gate; but when he found it recur, he let it alone.

In l. 290, Th. has iniure for iniurie, and I think he is right, though I have let injurie stand; iniure is Chaucer's form (Troil. iii. 1018), and it suits the scansion better.

In l. 382, Thynne corrects Unto to To; and in l. 386, has Beuer for bawar. In l. 441, he has syder for ceder. In l. 501, he has plyte for plye, where a letter may have dropped out in E.; but see the note (p. 525). In l. 590, his reading tokenyng suggests that takning (as in E.) should be takining or takinning; the line will then scan. The contracted form taikning occurs, however, in l. 232, where the word is less emphatic.

Note further, that in l. 216 the original must have had Philogoney (see the Note). This appears in the astonishing forms Philologie (E.), and Philologee (Th.). Laing prints Phlegonie, which will neither scan nor rime, without any hint that he is departing from his exemplar. All his corrections are made silently, so that one cannot tell where they occur without reference to the original.

For further information concerning Robert Henryson, schoolmaster of Dunfermline, see the preface to David Laing's edition of The Poems and Fables of Robert Henryson, Edinburgh, 1865; and Morley's English Writers, 1890, vol. vi. p. 250. He is supposed to have been born about 1425, and to have died about 1500. On Sept. 10, 1462, the Venerable Master Robert Henrysone, Licentiate in Arts and Bachelor in Decrees, was incorporated or admitted a member of the newly founded university [lvii]of Glasgow; and he is known to have been a notary public. Perhaps The Testament of Cresseid was written about 1460. It is a rather mature performance, and is his best piece. Perhaps it is the best piece in the present volume.

Of this piece there are several MSS., which fall into two main classes: (A)—Ff. (Ff. 1. 6, in the Camb. Univ. Library); T. (Tanner 346); Th. (MS. used by Thynne, closely allied to T.); and (B)—F. (Fairfax 16), and B. (Bodley 638), which are closely allied. There is also S. (Selden, B. 24) imperfect, which has readings of its own^[20]. Of these groups, A is the better, and MS. Ff. is, in some respects, the most important. Nevertheless, MS. Ff. has never been collated hitherto, so that I am able to give a somewhat improved text. For example, in all former editions lines 12 and 13 are transposed. In l. 180, the reading haire (as in Bell and Morris) is somewhat comic (see the Note). In l. 203, MS. Ff. restores the true reading hit, i.e. hitteth. Bell, by some accident, omits the stanza in which this word occurs. In vol. i. p. 39, I took occasion to complain of the riming of now with rescow-e in ll. 228-9, according to Bell. The right reading, however, is not now, but avow-e, which rimes well enough. MS. Selden has allowe, which Morris follows, though it is clearly inferior and is unsupported. On the other hand, MS. Selden correctly, and alone, has leve in l. 237; but the confusion between e and o is endless, so that the false reading loue creates no surprise.

This poem is very interesting, and has deservedly been a favourite one. It is therefore a great pleasure to me to have found the author's name. This is given at the end of the poem in MS. Ff. (the best MS., but hitherto neglected), where we find, in firm distinct letters, in the same handwriting as the poem itself, the remark—Explicit Clanvowe. Remembering that the true title of the poem is 'The Book of Cupid, God of Love^[21],' I applied to Dr. Furnivall, asking him if he had met with the name. He at once referred me to his preface to Hoccleve's [lviii]Works, p. x, where Sir John Clanvowe and Thomas Hoccleve are both mentioned in the same document (about A.D. 1385). But Sir John Clanvowe died in 1391, and therefore could not have imitated the title of Hoccleve's poem, which was not written till 1402. Our poet was probably Sir Thomas Clanvowe, concerning whom several particulars are known, and who must have been a well-known personage at the courts of Richard II and Henry IV. We learn from Wylie's Hist. of Henry IV, vol. iii. p. 261, that he was one of twenty-five knights who accompanied John Beaufort (son of John of Gaunt) to Barbary in 1390. This Sir Thomas favoured the opinions of the Lollards, but was nevertheless a friend of 'Prince Hal,' at the time when the prince was still friendly to freethinkers. He seems to have accompanied the prince in the mountains of Wales; see Wylie, as above, iii. 333. In 1401, he is mentioned as being one of 'vi Chivalers' in the list of esquires who were summoned to a council by king Henry IV; see the Acts of the Privy Council, ed. Nicolas, temp. Henry IV, p. 162. (It may be noted that Sir John Clanvowe was a witness, in 1385, to the will of the widow of the Black Prince; see Testamenta Vetusta, ed. Nicolas.)

§ 50. It now becomes easy to explain the reference to the queen at Woodstock, which has never yet been accounted for. The poem begins with the words—'The God of Love! Ah benedicite,' quoted from Chaucer, the title of the poem being 'The Book of Cupid, God of Love,' as has been said; and this title was imitated from Hoccleve's poem of 1402. But there was no queen of England after Henry's accession till Feb. 7, 1403, when the king married Joan of Navarre; and it was she who held as a part of her dower the manor and park of Woodstock; see Wylie, as above, ii. 284. Hence the following hypothesis will suit the facts—namely, that the poem, imitating Chaucer's manner, and having a title imitated from Hoccleve's poem of 1402, was written by Sir Thomas Clanvowe, who held Lollard opinions^[22] and was a friend (at one time) of Henry of Monmouth. And it was addressed to Joan of Navarre, Henry's stepmother, queen of England from 1403 to 1413, who held as a part of her [lix]dower the manor of Woodstock. If so, we should expect it to have been written before April, 1410, when Thomas Badby, the Lollard, was executed in the presence of the prince of Wales. Further, as it was probably written early rather than late in this period, I should be inclined to date it in 1403; possibly in May, as it relates so much to the time of spring.

I may add that the Clanvowes were a Herefordshire family, from the neighbourhood of Wigmore. The only remarkable non-Chaucerian word in the poem is the verb greden, to cry out (A.S. grǣdan); a word found in many dialects, and used by Layamon, Robert of Gloucester, Langland, and Hoccleve.

The poem is written in a light and pleasing style, which Wordsworth has fairly reproduced. The final -e is suppressed in assay-e (l. 52). The non-Chaucerian rimes are few, viz. gren-e and sen-e as riming with been (61-5), shewing that Clanvowe cut down those dissyllables to green and seen. And further, the forms ron and mon are employed, in order to rime with upon (81-5); whereas Chaucer only has the form man; whilst of ran I remember no example at the end of a line^[23].

§ 51. But there is one point about Clanvowe's verse which renders it, for the fifteenth century, quite unique. In imitating Chaucer's use of the final -e, he employs this suffix with unprecedented freedom, and rather avoids than seeks elision. This gives quite a distinctive character to his versification, and is very noticeable when attention has once been drawn to it. If, for example, we compare it with the Parliament of Foules, which it most resembles in general character, we find the following results. If, in the Cuckoo and Nightingale, we observe the first 21 lines, we shall find (even if we omit the example of hy-e in l. 4, and all the examples of final -e at the end of a line) the following clear examples of its use:—low-e, lyk-e, hard-e, sek-e, hol-e (twice), mak-e, hav-e, wys-e, proud-e, grev-e, trew-e, hert-e, i.e. 13 examples, besides the 5 examples of final -en in mak-en, bind-en, unbind-en, bound-en, destroy-en. But in the first 21 lines of the Parliament of Foules there are only 2 examples of the final -e in the middle of a line, viz. lust-e (15) and long-e (21), whilst of the final -en there is none. The difference between 18 and 2 must strike even [lx]the most inexperienced reader, when it is once brought under his notice. However, it is an extreme case.

Yet again, if the last 21 lines in the Cuckoo be compared with ll. 659-679 of the Parliament (being the last 21 lines, if we dismiss the roundel and the stanza that follows it), we find in the former 7 examples of final -e and 2 of -en, or 9 in all, whilst in Chaucer there are 7 of final -e, and 1 of -en, or 8 in all; and this also happens to be an extreme case in the other direction, owing to the occurrence in the former poem of the words egle, maple, and chambre, which I have not taken into account.

This suggests that, to make sure, we must compare much longer passages. In the whole of the Cuckoo, I make about 120 such cases of final -e, and 23 such cases of final -en, or 143 in all. In 290 lines of the Parliament of Foules, I make about 68 and 19 such cases respectively; or about 87 in all. Now the difference between 143 and 87 is surely very marked.

The cause of this result is obvious, viz. that Chaucer makes a more frequent use of elision. In the first 21 lines of the Parl. of Foules, we find elisions of men', sor', wak', oft' (twice), red' (twice), spek', fast', radd'; i.e. 10 examples; added to which, Chaucer has joy(e), love, knowe, usage, boke, at the cæsura, and suppresses the e in write (written). But in ll. 1-21, Clanvowe has (in addition to love, make, lowe, make (twice), gladde at the cæsura) only 3 examples of true elision, viz. fressh', tell', and mak' (15).

And further, we seldom find two examples of the use of the final -e in the same line in Chaucer. I do not observe any instance, in the Parl. of Foules, till we arrive at l. 94:—'Took rest that mad-e me to slep-e faste.' But in Clanvowe they are fairly common. Examples are: Of sek-e folk ful hol-e (7); For every trew-e gentil hert-e free (21); That any hert-e shuld-e slepy be (44); I went-e forth alon-e bold-e-ly (59); They coud-e that servyc-e al by rote (71); and the like. In l. 73, we have even three examples in one line; Some song-e loud-e, as they hadd-e playned. From all of which it appears that the critics who have assigned the Cuckoo to Chaucer have taken no pains whatever to check their opinion by any sort of analysis. They have trusted to their own mere opinion, without looking the facts in the face.

§ 52. I will point out yet one more very striking difference. We know that Chaucer sometimes employs headless lines, such as: Twénty bókes át his béddes héed. But he does so sparingly, [lxi]especially in his Minor Poems. But in the Cuckoo, they are not uncommon; see, e.g. lines 16, 50, 72, 100, 116, 118, 146, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 161, 166, 205, 232, 242, 252, 261, 265, 268. It is true that, in Morris's edition, lines 72, 146, 153, 161, and 205 are slightly altered; but in no case can I find that the alteration is authorised. And even then, this does not get rid of the five consecutive examples in ll. 154-158, which cannot be explained away. Once more, I repeat, the critics have failed to use their powers of observation.

I think the poem may still be admired, even if it be allowed that Clanvowe wrote it some three years after Chaucer's death.

§ 53. At any rate, it was admired by so good a judge of poetry as John Milton, who of course possessed a copy of it in the volume which was so pleasantly called 'The Works of Chaucer.' That his famous sonnet 'To the Nightingale' owed something to Clanvowe, I cannot doubt. 'Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill' is, in part, the older poet's theme; see ll. 1-30, 149-155, 191-192. Even his first line reminds one of ll. 77, 288. If Milton writes of May, so does Clanvowe; see ll. 20, 23, 34, 55, 70, 230, 235, 242; note especially l. 230. But the real point of contact is in the lines—

This piece has always hitherto been printed without any title, and is made to follow The Cuckoo and the Nightingale, as if there were some sort of connection between them. This is probably because it happens to follow that poem in the Fairfax and Tanner MSS., and probably did so in the MS. used by Thynne, which has a striking resemblance to the Tanner MS. However, the poem is entirely absent from the Cambridge, Selden, and Bodley MSS., proving that there is no connection with the preceding poem, from which it differs very widely in style, in language, and in metre.

I call it an Envoy to Alison. For first, it is an Envoy^[24], as it refers to the author's 'lewd book,' which it recommends to a lady. What the book is, no one can say; but it may safely be conjectured that it was of no great value. And secondly, the lady's name was Alison, as shewn by the acrostic in lines 22-27; and the author has recourse to almost ludicrous efforts, in order to secure the first four letters of the name.

Briefly, it is a very poor piece; and my chief object in reprinting it is to shew how unworthy it is of Clanvowe, not to mention Chaucer. We have no right even to assign it to Lydgate. And its date may be later than 1450.

This piece many 'critics' would assign to Chaucer, merely because they like it. This may be sentiment, but it is not criticism; and, after all, a desire to arrive at the truth should be of more weight with us than indulgence in ignorant credulity.

It is of some consequence to learn, first of all, that it is hardly possible to separate this piece from the next. The authoress of one was the authoress of the other. That The Assembly of Ladies is longer and duller, and has not held its own in popular estimation, is no sound argument to the contrary; for it is only partially true. Between the first eleven stanzas of the Assembly and the first eleven stanzas of the present poem, there is a strong general resemblance, and not much to choose. Other stanzas [lxiii]of the Assembly that are well up to the standard of the Flower will be found in lines 456-490, 511-539. The reason of the general inferiority of the Assembly lies chiefly in the choice of the subject; it was meant to interest some medieval household, but it gave small scope for retaining the reader's attention, and must be held to be a failure.

The links connecting these poems are so numerous that I must begin by asking the reader to let me denote The Flower and the Leaf by the letter F (= Flower), and The Assembly of Ladies by the letter A (= Assembly).

The first point is that (with the sole exception of the Nutbrown Maid) no English poems exist, as far as I remember, written previously to 1500, and purporting to be written by a woman. In the case of F. and A., this is assumed throughout. When the author of F. salutes a certain fair lady, the lady replies—'My doughter, gramercy'; 462. And again she says, 'My fair doughter'; 467, 500, 547. The author of A. says she was one of five ladies; 5-7, 407. Again, she was a woman; 18. The author of A. and some other ladies salute Lady Countenance, who in reply says 'fair sisters'; 370. Again, she and others salute a lady-chamberlain, who replies by calling them 'sisters'; 450; &c.

The poem A. is supposed to be an account of a dream, told by the authoress to a gentleman; with the exception of this gentleman, all the characters of the poem are ladies; and hence its title. The poem F. is not quite so exclusive, but it comes very near it; all the principal characters are ladies, and the chief personages are queens, viz. the queen of the Leaf and the queen of the Flower. The 'world of ladies' in l. 137 take precedence of the Nine Worthies, who were merely men. A recognition of this fact makes the whole poem much clearer.

But the most characteristic thing is the continual reference to colours, dresses, ornaments, and decorations. In F., we have descriptions of, or references to, white surcoats, velvet, seams, emeralds, purfils, colours, sleeves, trains, pearls, diamonds, a fret of gold, chaplets of leaves, chaplets of woodbine, chaplets of agnus-castus, a crown of gold, thundering trumpets, the treasury of Prester John, white cloaks, chaplets of oak, banners of Tartary-silk, more pearls, collars, escutcheons, kings-of-arms, cloaks of white cloth, crowns set with pearls, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds. Then there is a company all clad in one suit (or livery); heralds [lxiv]and poursuivants, more chaplets and escutcheons, men in armour with cloth of gold and horse-trappings, with bosses on their bridles and peitrels—it is surely needless to go on, though we have only arrived at l. 246.

In A., we have much the same sort of thing all over again, though it does not set in before l. 83. Then we meet with blue colours, an embroidered gown, and a purfil with a device. After a respite, we begin again at l. 206—'Her gown was blue'; and the lady wore a French motto. Diligence tells the authoress that she looks well in her new blue gown (259). At l. 305, there is another blue gown, furred with gray, with a motto on the sleeve; and there are plenty more mottoes to follow. At l. 451 we come to a paved floor, and walls made of beryl and crystal, engraved with stories; next, a well-apparelled chair or throne, on five stages, wrought of 'cassidony,' with four pommels of gold, and set with sapphires; a cloth of estate, wrought with the needle (486); cloth of gold (521); a blue gown, with sleeves wrought tabard-wise, of which the collar and the vent (slit in front of the neck) are described as being like ermine; it was couched with great pearls, powdered with diamonds, and had sleeves and purfils; then we come to rubies, enamel, a great balas-ruby, and more of the same kind. Again, it is useless to go further. Surely these descriptions of seams, and collars, and sleeves, are due to a woman.

The likeness comes out remarkably in two parallel stanzas. One of them is from F. 148, and the other from A. 526.

Besides these striking coincidences in whole lines, there are a large number of phrases and endings of lines that are common to the two poems; such as—the springing of the day, F. 25, A. 218; Which, as me thought, F. 36, A. 50; wel y-wrought, F. 49, A. 165; by mesure, F. 58, A. 81; I you ensure, F. 60, 287, A. 52, 199; in this wyse, F. 98, A. 589; I sat me doun, F. 118, A. 77; oon and oon, F. 144, A. 368, 543, 710; by and by, F. 59, 146, A. 87; withouten fail, F. 369, A. 567, 646; herself aloon, F. 458, A. 84; ful demure, F. 459, A. 82; to put in wryting, F. 589, A. 664; and others that are printed out in the Notes.

Very characteristic of female authorship is the remark that the ladies vied with each other as to which looked the best; a remark which occurs in both poems; see F. 188, A. 384.

A construction common to both poems is the use of very with an adjective, a construction used by Lydgate, but not by Chaucer; examples are very rede, F. 35; very good, F. 10, 315; very round, A. 479.

It is tedious to enumerate how much these poems have in common. They open in a similar way, F. with the description of a grove, A. with the description of a garden with a maze. In the eighth stanza of F., we come to 'a herber that benched was'; and in the seventh stanza of A. we come to a similar 'herber, mad with benches'; both from The Legend of Good Women.

In F., the authoress has a waking vision of 'a world of ladies' (137); in A. she sees in a dream the 'assembly of ladies.' In both, she sees an abundance of dresses, and gems, and bright colours. Both introduce several scraps of French. In both, the [lxvi]authoress has interviews with allegorical or visionary personages, who address her either as daughter or sister. I have little doubt that the careful reader will discover more points of resemblance for himself.

§ 56. The chief appreciable difference between the two poems is that F. was probably written considerably earlier than A. This appears from the more frequent use of the final -e, which the authoress occasionally uses as an archaic embellishment, though she frequently forgets all about it for many stanzas together. In the former poem (F.) there seem to be about 50 examples, whilst in the latter (A.) there are hardly 10^[25]. In almost every case, it is correctly used, owing, no doubt, to tradition or to a perusal of older poetry. The most important cases are the abundant ones in which a final e is omitted where Chaucer would inevitably have inserted it. For example, such a line as F. 195—From the same grove, where the ladyes come out—would become, in Chaucer—From the sam-ë grov-ë wher the ladyes come out—giving at least twelve syllables in the line. The examples of the omission of final -e, where such omission makes a difference to the scansion, are not very numerous, because many such come before a vowel (where they might be elided) or at the cæsura (where they might be tolerated). Still we may note such a case as green in l. 109 where Chaucer would have written gren-e, giving a fresh gren-ë laurer-tree, to the ruin of the scansion. Similar offences against Chaucer's usage are herd for herd-e, 128 (cf. 191); spek' for spek-e, 140; al for all-e, plural, 165; sight for sight-e, 174; lyf for lyv-e, 182; sam' for sam-e, 195; the tenth for the tenth-e, 203; gret for gret-e, plural, 214, 225; red for red-e, 242; the worst for the worst-e, 255; yed' for yed-e, 295, 301; fast for fast-e, 304; rejoice for rejoy-se, 313; noise for nois-e, 353; sonn' for son-ne, 355, 408; hir fresh for hir fres-she, 357; laft for laft-e, pt. t., 364; their greet for hir gret-e, 377; sick for sek-e, 410; about for about-e, 411; to soup for to soup-e, 417; without for without-e, 423, 549; the hool for the hol-e, 437; to know for to know-e, 453; past for pass-ede or past-e, 465; My fair for My fair-e, vocative, 467, 500; to tel for to tell-e, 495; nin(e) for nyn-e, 502; imagin(e) for imagin-en, 525; they last for [lxvii]they last-e, 562; thy rud(e) for thy rud-e, 595. Those who believe that The Flower and the Leaf was written by Chaucer will have to explain away every one of these cases; and when they have done so, there is more to be said.

§ 57. For it is well known that such a word as sweetly (96) was trisyllabic, as swet-e-ly, in Chaucer; C. T., A 221. Similarly, our authoress has trewly for trew-e-ly^[26], 130; richly for rich-e-ly, 169; woodbind for wod-e-bind-e, 485. Similar is ointments for oin-e-ments, 409. And, moreover, our authoress differs from Chaucer as to other points of grammar. Thus she has Forshronk as a strong pp., 358, which ought to be forshronk-en or forshronk-e. Still more marked is her use of rood as the plural of the past tense, 449, 454, where Chaucer has rid-en; and her use of began as a plural, 385, where Chaucer has bigonn-e. Can these things be explained away also? If so, there is more to be said.

§ 58. All the above examples have been made out, without so much as looking at the rimes. But the rimes are much harder to explain away, where they differ from Chaucer's. Here are a few specimens.

Pas-se rimes with was, 27; so it must have been cut down to pas! Similarly, hew-e has become hew; for it rimes with grew, sing., 32. Sight-e has become sight, to rime with wight, 37. Brought should rather be brought-e, but it rimes with wrought, 48. Similar difficulties occur in peyn (for peyn-e), r. w. seyn (62); syd' for syd-e, r. w. espy'd for espy-ed, 72; eet, r. w. sweet for swet-e, 90; not' for not-e, r. w. sot, 99; busily, r. w. aspy' for aspy-e, 106; trewly, r. w. armony' for armony-e, 130; orient (oriant?), r. w. want for want-e, 148; person for person-e, r. w. everichon, 167. It is tedious to go on; let the critic finish the list, if he knows how to do it. If not, let him be humble. For there is more to come.

§ 59. Besides the grammar, there is yet the pronunciation to be considered; and here comes in the greatest difficulty of all. For, in ll. 86-89, we have the unusual rime of tree and be with pretily. This so staggered Dr. Morris, that he was induced to print the last word as pretile; which raises the difficulty without explaining it. For the explanation, the reader should consult the excellent dissertation by Dr. Curtis on The Romance of Clariodus [lxviii](Halle, 1894), p. 56, § 187. He remarks that a rime of this character gives evidence of the transition of M.E. long close e to (Italian) long i [as in the change from A.S. mē to mod. E. me], and adds: 'this change became general in the fifteenth century, but had begun in some dialects at an earlier date.' Its occurrence in the present poem is a strong indication that it is later than the year 1400, and effectually disposes of any supposed connection with Midland poems of the fourteenth century.

Both poems are remarkably free from classical allusions and from references to such medieval authors as are freely quoted by Chaucer. There is nothing to shew that the authoress was acquainted with Latin, though she knew French, especially the French of songs and mottoes.

The Flower and the Leaf is chiefly famous for having been versified by Dryden. The version is a free one, in a manner all his own, and is finer than the original, which can hardly be said of his 'versions' of Palamon and Arcite and The Cock and the Fox. It is doubtless from this version that many critics have formed exaggerated ideas of the poem's value; otherwise, it is difficult to understand for what reasons it was considered worthy of so great a master as Geoffrey Chaucer.

§ 60. It will be seen, from the Notes, that the authoress was well acquainted with the Prologue to The Legend of Good Women; and it can hardly be questioned that she took the main idea of the poem from that source, especially ll. 188-194 of the later text. At the same time she was well acquainted with Gower's lines on the same subject, in the Conf. Amantis, iii. 357, 358; see vol. iii. pp. xlii, 297. Gower has:—

This has already been discussed, in some measure, in considering the preceding poem. Both pieces were written by the same authoress; but the former is the more sprightly and probably the earlier. With the exception of the unusual rime of tree with pretily (discussed above), nearly all the peculiarities of the preceding poem occur here also. The Chaucerian final -e appears now and then, as in commaund-e (probably plural), 203; red-e, 215; countenanc-e, 295; pen-ne [or else seyd-e], 307; chayr-e, 476; tak-e, 565; trouth-e, 647; liv-e, 672; sem-e (pr. s. subj.), 696. But it is usually dropped, as in The fresh for The fres-she, 2; &c. In l. 11, Thynne prints fantasyse for fantasyes; for it obviously rimes with gyse (monosyllabic); cf. 533-535. Hew-e and new-e are cut down to hew and new, to rime with knew, 67. Bold rimes with told, clipped form of told-e, 94; and so on. So, again, trewly appears in place of Chaucer's trew-e-ly, 488. It is needless to pursue the subject.

The description of the maze and the arbour, in ll. 29-70, is good. Another pleasing passage is that contained in ll. 449-497; and the description of a lady's dress in ll. 519-539. As for the lady herself—

To attribute such a question as 'how will my dress do' to a male writer is a little too dramatic for a mere narrative poem.

The two MSS. have now been collated for the first time and afford some important corrections, of which l. 61 presents remarkable instances. MS. Addit. 34360 is of some value. [lxx]

§ 62. A considerable part of The Assembly of Ladies that is now of little interest may have been much appreciated at the time, as having reference to the ordering of a large medieval household, with its chambers, parlours, bay-windows, and galleries, carefully kept in good order by the various officers and servants; such as Perseverance the usher, Countenance the porter, Discretion the chief purveyor, Acquaintance the harbinger, Largesse the steward, Bel-cheer the marshal of the hall, Remembrance the chamberlain, and the rest. The authoress must have been perfectly familiar with spectacles and pageants and all the amusements of the court; but she was too humble to aspire to wear a motto.

We must not forget that the period of the Wars of the Roses, especially from 1455 to 1471, was one during which the composition of these poems was hardly possible. It is obviously very difficult to assign a date to them; perhaps they may be referred to the last quarter of the fifteenth century. We must not put them too late, because The Assembly exists in MSS. that seem to be as old as that period.

For this poem there is but one authority, viz. Thynne's edition of 1532. He calls it 'A goodly balade of Chaucer'; but it is manifestly Lydgate's. Moreover, it is really a triple Balade, with an Envoy, on the model of Chaucer's Fortune and Compleynt of Venus; only it has seven-line stanzas instead of stanzas of eight lines. An inspection of Thynne's volume shews that it was inserted to fill a gap, viz. a blank page at the back of the concluding lines of The Legend of Good Women, so that the translation of Boethius might commence on a new leaf.

It is obvious that the third stanza of the second Balade was missing in Thynne's MS. He did not leave it out for lack of space; for there is plenty of room on his page.

That it is not Chaucer's appears from the first Balade, where the use of the monosyllables shal and smal in ll. 8 and 10 necessitates the use of the clipped forms al for al-le, cal for cal-le, apal for [lxxi]apal-le, and befal for befal-le. Moreover, the whole style of it suggests Lydgate, and does not suggest Chaucer.

The sixth stanza probably began with the letter D; in which case, the initial letters of the stanzas give us M, M, M; D, D, D; J, C, Q. And, as it was evidently addressed to a lady named Margaret (see the Notes), we seem to see here Margaret, Dame Jacques. The name of Robert Jacques occurs in the Writs of Parliament; Bardsley's English Surnames, 2nd ed., p. 565. Of course this is a guess which it is easy to deride; but it is very difficult to account otherwise for the introduction of the letters J, C, Q in the third Balade; yet it was evidently intentional, for much force was employed to achieve the result. To make the first stanza begin with J, recourse is had to French; and the other two stanzas both begin with inverted clauses.

I give this from Thynne's first edition; but add the Latin lines from the copy printed in Schick's edition of The Temple of Glas, at p. 68. His text is from that printed by Wynken de Worde about 1498, collated with the second and third prints from the same press at somewhat later dates, and a still later copy printed by Berthelet.

The only difference between Thynne's text and that given by Schick is that Wynken de Worde printed ar in the last line where Thynne has printed be. Schick also notes that 'the Chaucer-Prints of 1561 and 1598 omit thou' in l. 9; and I find that it is also omitted in the third edition (undated, about 1550). But it occurs in the edition of 1532, all the same; shewing that the later reprints cannot always be relied upon.

I have already said (vol. i. p. 40)—'Surely it must be Lydgate's.' For it exhibits his love for 'catalogues,' and presents his peculiarities of metre. Dr. Schick agrees with this ascription, and points out that its appearance in the four prints above-mentioned, in all of which it is annexed to Lydgate's Temple of Glas, tends to strengthen my supposition. I think this may be taken as removing all doubt on the subject.

§ 65. I beg leave to quote here Schick's excellent remarks upon the poem itself.

'There are similar pieces to these Duodecim Abusiones in earlier [lxxii]English literature (see ten Brink, Geschichte der englischen Literatur, i. 268, and note).^[32] The "twelf unþēawas" existed also in Old-English; a homily on them is printed in Morris, Old Eng. Homilies, pp. 101-119^[33]. It is based on the Latin Homily "De octo viciis et de duodecim abusivis huius saeculi," attributed to St. Cyprian or St. Patrick; see Dietrich in Niedner's Zeitschrift für historische Theologie, 1855, p. 518; Wanley's Catalogus, passim (cf. the Index sub voce Patrick). In the Middle-English period we meet again with more or less of these "Abusions"; see Morris, Old Eng. Miscellany, p. 185 (11 Abusions); Furnivall, Early Eng. Poems, Berlin, 1862 (Phil. Soc.), p. 161; "Five Evil Things," Wright and Halliwell, Reliquiae Antiquae, i. 316, and ii. 14.'

This piece was first printed by Stowe in 1561. Stowe happened to have access to a MS. which was really a miscellaneous collection of Middle-English pieces of various dates; and he proceeded to print them as being 'certaine workes of Geffray Chauser,' without paying any regard to their contents or style. In vol. i. pp. 33, 34, I give a list of his additions, numbered 42-60^[34]. By good fortune, the very MS. in question is now in Trinity College Library, marked R. 3. 19. We can thus tell that he was indebted to it for the pieces numbered 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 56, and 59. These eleven pieces are all alike remarkable for being non-Chaucerian; indeed, no. 56 is certainly Lydgate's. But it has so happened that no. 59, or The Court of Love, being the best of these pieces, was on that account 'attributed' to Chaucer, whilst the others were unhesitatingly rejected. And it happened on this wise.

§ 67. After Tyrwhitt had edited the Canterbury Tales afresh, it occurred to him to compile a Glossary. He rightly reasoned that the Glossary would be strengthened and made more correct if he included in it all the harder words found in the whole of Chaucer's Works, instead of limiting the vocabulary to words [lxxiii]which occur in the Canterbury Tales only. For this purpose, he proceeded to draw up a List of what he conceived to be Chaucer's genuine works; and we must remember that the only process open to him was to consider all the old editions, and reject such as he conceived to be spurious. Hence his List is not really a list of genuine works, but one made by striking out from all previous lists the works which he knew to be spurious. A moment's reflection will show that this is a very different thing.

Considering that he had only his own acumen to guide him, and had no access to linguistic or grammatical tests, still less to tests derived from an examination of rimes or phonology, it is wonderful how well he did his work. In the matter of rejection, he did not make a single mistake. His first revision was made by considering only the pieces numbered 1-41, in the first part of Stowe's print (see vol. i. pp. 31-33); and he struck out the following, on the express ground that they were known to have been written by other authors; viz. nos. 4, 11, 13, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 33, and 40^[35].

Then he went over the list again, and struck out, on internal evidence, nos. 15, 18, 21, 22, and 32^[36].

Truly, here was a noble beginning! The only non-Chaucerian pieces which he failed to reject explicitly, among nos. 1-41, were the following, viz. 6 (A Goodly Balade of Chaucer), 17 (The Complaint of the Black Knight), 20 (The Testament of Love), 31 (The Cuckoo and the Nightingale), 38 (Go forth, King), and 41 (A Balade in Praise of Chaucer). Of course he rejected the last of these, but it was not worth his while to say so; and, in the same way, he tacitly rejected or ignored nos. 6, 30, and 38. Hence it was that nos. 6, 30, 38, and 41 did not appear in Moxon's Chaucer, and even no. 32 was carefully excluded. In his final list, out of nos. 1-41, Tyrwhitt actually got rid of all but nos. 17, 20, and 31 (The Black Knight, The Testament of Love, and The Cuckoo).

As to the remaining articles, he accepted, among the longer pieces, nos. 59, 62, and 63, i.e. The Court of Love, Chaucer's Dream, and The Flower and the Leaf; to which he added nos. [lxxiv]42, 43, and 60 (as to which there is no doubt), and also the Virelai (no. 50), on the slippery ground that it is a virelai (which, strictly speaking, it is not).

§ 68. One result of his investigations was that an edition of Chaucer was published by Moxon (my copy is dated 1855), in which all the poems were included which Tyrwhitt accepted, followed by Tyrwhitt's Account of the Works of Chaucer.

Owing to the popularity of this edition, many scholars accepted the poems contained in it as being certainly genuine; but it is obvious that this was a very risky thing to do, in the absence of external evidence; especially when it is remembered that Tyrwhitt merely wanted to illustrate his glossary to the Canterbury Tales by adding words from other texts. The idea of drawing up a canon by the process of striking out from luxuriant lists the names of pieces that are obviously spurious, is one that should never have found acceptance.

§ 69. There is only one correct method of drawing up a canon of genuine works, viz. that adopted by Mr. Henry Bradshaw, formerly our Cambridge University Librarian. It is simple enough, viz. to take a clean sheet of paper, and enter upon it, first of all, the names of all the pieces that are admittedly genuine; and then to see if it can fairly be augmented by adding such pieces as have reasonable evidence in their favour. In making a list of this character, The Court of Love has no claim to be considered at all, as I fully proved about twenty years ago^[37]; and there is an end of the matter. The MS. copy is in a hand of the sixteenth century^[38], and there is no internal evidence to suggest an earlier date.

§ 70. Our task is to determine what it really is, and what can be made of it as it stands. We learn from the author that he [lxxv]was 'a clerk of Cambridge' (913), which we may readily accept. Beyond this, there is nothing but internal evidence; but of this there is much. That our 'clerk' had read Ovid and Maximian appears from the Notes; he even seems to have imbibed something of 'the new learning,' as he makes up the names Philo-genet and Philo-bone by help of a Greek adjective^[39]. Dr. Schick has made it clear that he was well acquainted with Lydgate's Temple of Glas, which he imitates freely; see Schick's edition of that poem, p. cxxix. Mr. J. T. T. Brown, in his criticism on 'The Authorship of the Kingis Quair,' Glasgow, 1896, draws many parallels between The Court of Love and The Kingis Quair, and concludes that The Kingis Quair was indebted to The Court of Love; but it is tolerably certain that the indebtedness was in the other direction. For, in The Kingis Quair, some knowledge of the true use of Chaucer's final -e is still exhibited, even in a Northern poem, whilst in The Court of Love, it is almost altogether dead, though the poem is in the Midland dialect. I shall presently shew that our clerk, whilst very nearly ignoring the final -e, occasionally employs the final -en; but this he does in a way which clearly shews that he did not understand when to use it aright, a fact which is highly significant.

I am much indebted to my friend Professor Hales for pointing out another very cogent argument. He draws attention to the numerous instances in which the author of The Court of Love fails to end a stanza with a stop. There is no stop, for example, at the end of ll. 14, 567, 672, 693, 700, 763, 826, 1064, 1288; and only a slight pause at the end of ll. 28, 49, 70, 84, 189, 231, 259, 280, 371, 406, 427, &c. In Chaucer's Parlement of Foules, on the other hand, there is but one stanza without a stop at the end, viz. at l. 280; and but one with a slight pause, viz. at l. 154. The difference between these results is very marked, and would convince any mathematician. I should like to add that the same test disposes of the claims of The Flower and the Leaf to be considered as Chaucer's; it has no stop at the end of ll. 7, 70, 154, 161, 196, 231, 280, 308, 392, 476, and has mere commas at the end of ll. 28, 49, 56, 98, 119, 224, 259, 329, 336, &c. In the Assembly of Ladies this departure from Chaucer's usage has been [lxxvi]nearly abandoned, which is one reason why that piece is in a less lively style.

§ 71. The sole MS. copy of The Court of Love belongs to the sixteenth century, and there is nothing to shew that the poem itself was of earlier date. Indeed, the language of it is remarkably like that of the former half of that century. If it be compared with Sackville's famous 'Induction,' the metrical form of the stanzas is much the same; there is the same smoothness of rhythm and frequent modernness of form, quite different from the halting lines of Lydgate and Hawes. This raises a suggestion that the author may have learnt his metre from Scottish authors, such as Henryson and Dunbar; and it is surprising to find him employing such words as celsitude and pulcritude, and even riming them together, precisely as Dunbar did (ll. 611-613, and the note). One wonders where he learnt to use such words, if not from Scottish authors. Curiously enough, a single instance of the use of a Northern inflexion occurs in the phrase me thynkes, 874. And I admit the certainty that he consulted The Kingis Quair.

I have no space to discuss the matter at length; so shall content myself with saying that the impression produced upon me is that we have here the work of one of the heralds of the Elizabethan poetry, of the class to which belonged Nicholas Grimoald, Thomas Sackville, Lord Surrey, Lord Vaux, and Sir Francis Bryan. There must have been much fairly good poetry in the time of Henry VIII that is lost to us. Tottell's Miscellany clearly shews this, as it is a mere selection of short pieces, which very nearly perished; but for this fortunate relic, we should not have known much about Wyat and Surrey. Sackville, when at Cambridge, acquired some distinction for Latin and English verse, but we possess none of it. However, Sackville was not the author of The Court of Love, seeing that it was published in a 'Chaucer' collection in 1561, long before his death.

The fact that our clerk was well acquainted with so many pieces by Chaucer, such as The Knight's Tale, the Complaint of Pity, The Legend of Good Women, Troilus, and Anelida, besides giving us reminiscences of The Letter of Cupid, and (perhaps) of The Cuckoo and Nightingale, raises the suspicion that he had access to Thynne's edition of 1532; and it is quite possible that this very book inspired him for his effort. This suspicion becomes almost a certainty if it be true that ll. 495-496 [lxxvii]are borrowed from Rom. Rose, 2819-20; see note at p. 545. I can find no reason for dating the poem earlier than that year.

§ 72. However this may be, the chief point to notice is that his archaisms are affectations and not natural. He frequently dispenses with them altogether for whole stanzas at a time. When they occur, they are such as he found in Chaucer abundantly; I refer to such phrases as I-wis or y-wis; as blyve; the use of ich for I (661); besy cure (36); gan me dresse (113; cf. C. T., G 1271); by the feith I shall to god (131; cf. Troil. iii. 1649); and many more. He rarely uses the prefix i- or y- with the pp.; we find y-born (976), y-formed (1176), y-heried (592), y-sped (977), all in Chaucer; besides these, I only note y-fed (975), y-ravisshed (153), y-stope (281), the last being used in the sense of Chaucer's stope. The most remarkable point is the almost total absence of the final -e; I only observe His len-ë body (1257); to serv-e (909); to dred-e (603); and in thilk-ë place (642); the last of which is a phrase (cf. R. R. 660). On the other hand, whilst thus abstaining from the use of the final -e, he makes large use of the longer and less usual suffix -en, which he employs with much skill to heighten the archaic effect. Thus we find the past participles holden, 62; growen, 182; yoven or yeven, 742; shapen, 816, 1354; blowen, 1240; the gerunds writen, 35; dressen, 179; byden, 321; semen, 607; seken, 838; worshippen, 1165, and a few others; the infinitives maken, 81; byden, 189; quyten, 327, &c., this being the commonest use; the present plurals wailen, 256; foten, 586; speden, 945, &c.; with the same form for the first person, as in wailen, 1113; bleden, 1153; and for the second person, as in waxen, 958; slepen, 999. Occasionally, this suffix is varied to -yn or -in, as in exilyn, v., 336; serchyn, v., 950; spakyn, pt. pl., 624; approchyn, pr. pl., 1212. This may be the scribe's doing, and is consistent with East Anglian spelling.

But the artificial character of these endings is startlingly revealed when we find -en added in an impossible position, shewing that its true grammatical use was quite dead. Yet we find such examples. A serious error (hardly the scribe's) occurs in l. 347: 'Wheder that she me helden lefe or loth.' Hold being a strong verb, the pt. t. is held; we could however justify the use of held-e, by supposing it to be the subjunctive mood, which suits the sense; but held-en (with -en) is the plural form, while she is singular; and really this use of -e in the subjunctive must have been long [lxxviii]dead. In l. 684, we have a case that is even worse, viz. I kepen in no wyse; here the use of -en saves a hiatus, but the concord is false, like the Latin ego seruamus. In l. 928, the same thing recurs, though the scribe has altered greven into growen^[40]; for this present tense is supposed to agree with I! A very clear case occurs in l. 725: For if by me this mater springen out; where the use of -en, again meant to save a hiatus, is excruciatingly wrong; for mater is singular! This cannot be the fault of the scribe. Other examples of false grammar are: thou serven, 290; thou sene, 499. But the climax is attained in l. 526, where we meet with thay kepten ben, where the -en is required for the metre. Kepten, as a past participle, is quite unique; let us drop a veil over this sad lapse, and say no more about it^[41].

We may, however, fairly notice the constant use of the Northern forms their and thaim or theim, where Chaucer has hir and hem. The use of their and them (not thaim) was well established by the year 1500 in literary English, as, e.g., in Hawes and Skelton. Caxton uses all four forms, hem and them, her and their.

The final -e is not used at the end of a line. This is easily seen, if carefully looked into. Thus lette (1284) stands for let, for it rimes with y-set; grace and trespace rime with was, 163; kene rimes with bene, misspelling of been, 252; redde, put for red, rimes with spred, 302; yerde, put for yerd, rimes with aferd, 363; ende rimes with frend and fend, 530; and so on throughout^[42]. The following assonances occur: here, grene, 253; kepe, flete, 309; and the following rimes are imperfect: plaint, talent, consent, 716; frend, mynd, 1056; nonne (for non), boun, 1149; like (i long), stike (i short), 673; and perhaps hold, shuld^[43], 408; hard, ferd, 151. Hard is repeated, 149, 151; 1275, 1277. A curious rime [lxxix]is that of length with thynketh, 1059; read thenk'th, and it is good enough. Noteworthy are these: thryse (for Chaucer's thry-ës), wyse, 537; hens (for Chaucer's henn-ës), eloquence, 935; desire, here, 961, 1301; eke, like, 561; tretesse (for Chaucer's tretys), worthinesse, 28; write, aright, 13; sey (I saw), way, 692. In one place, he has discryve, 778, to rime with lyve; and in another discry (miswritten discryve, 97), to rime with high. As in Chaucer, he sometimes has dy, to die, riming with remedy, 340, and elsewhere dey, to rime with pray, 582; and again fire, fyr, riming with hyre, 883, or with desire, 1285, and at another time the Kentish form fere (borrowed from Chaucer), with the same sense, r. w. y-fere, 622. The most curious forms are those for 'eye.' When it rimes with degree, 132, see, 768, we seem to have the Northern form ee or e; but elsewhere it rimes with besily, 299, pretily, 419, wounderly, 695, dispitously, 1139, or with I, 282; and the plural yen (= y'n) rimes with lyne, 135. The sounds represented by ē and y obviously afford permissible rimes; that the sounds were not identical appears from ll. 1051-1055, which end with me, remedy, be, dy, company consecutively.

§ 74. Perhaps an easier way for enabling a learner to recognise the peculiarities of The Court of Love, and the difference of its language from Chaucer, is to translate some lines of it into Chaucerian English. The effect upon the metre is startling.

Very many more such examples may be given. Or take the following; Chaucer has (L. G. W. 476):—

In the present state of our knowledge of the history of the English language, any notion of attributing The Court of Love to Chaucer is worse than untenable; for it is wholly disgraceful. Everything points to a very late date, and tends to exclude it, not only from the fourteenth, but even from the fifteenth century.

At the same time, it will readily be granted that the poem abounds with Chaucerian words and phrases to an extent that almost surpasses even the poems of Lydgate. The versification is smooth, and the poem, as a whole, is pleasing. I have nothing to say against it, when considered on its own merits.

§ 75. Space fails me to discuss the somewhat vexed question of the Courts of Love, of which some have denied the existence. However, there seems to be good evidence to shew that they arose in Provence, and were due to the extravagances of the troubadours. They were travesties of the courts of law, with a lady of rank for a judge, and minstrels for advocates; and they discussed subtle questions relating to affairs of love, usually between troubadours and ladies. The discussions were conducted with much seriousness, and doubtless often served to give much amusement to many idle people. Not unfrequently they led to tragedies, as is easily understood when we notice that the first of one set of thirty-one Laws of Love runs as follows:—'Marriage cannot be pleaded as an excuse for refusing to love.' The reader who requires further information is referred to 'The Troubadours and Courts of Love,' by J. F. Rowbotham, M.A., London, Swan Sonnenschein and Co., 1895.

It is perhaps necessary to observe that the said Courts have very little to do with the present poem, which treats of a Court of Cupid in the Chaucerian sense (Leg. Good Women, 352). Even the statutes of the Court are largely imitated from Lydgate.

XXV. Virelay. This piece, from the Trinity MS., belongs to the end of the fifteenth century, and contains no example of the final -e as constituting a syllable. Chaucer would have used sore (l. 2), more (l. 12), trouth (l. 13), as dissyllables; and he would not have rimed pleyn and disdayn with compleyn and absteyn, as the two latter require a final -e. The rime of finde with ende is extraordinary. [lxxxi]

The title 'Virelai' is given to this piece in Moxon's Chaucer, and is, strictly speaking, incorrect; in the MS. and in Stowe's edition, it has no title at all! Tyrwhitt cautiously spoke of it as being 'perhaps by Chaucer'; and says that 'it comes nearer to the description of a Virelay, than anything else of his that has been preserved.' This is not the case; see note to Anelida, 256; vol. i. p. 536. Tyrwhitt quotes from Cotgrave—'Virelay, a round, freemen's song,' and adds—'There is a particular description of a Virlai, in the Jardin de plaisance, fol. xii, where it makes the decima sexta species Rhetorice Gallicane.' For further remarks, see p. 554.

XXVI. Prosperity: by John Walton. 'To Mr. [Mark] Liddell belongs the honour of the discovery of John Walton as the author of the little poem on fol. 119 [of MS. Arch. Seld. B. 24]. The lines occur as part of the Prologue (ll. 83-90) to Walton's translation of Boethius' De Consolatione.'—J. T. T. Brown, The Authorship of the Kingis Quair, Glasgow, 1896; p. 71. See the account of Walton in Warton's Hist. E. Poetry, sect. xx. The original date of the stanza was, accordingly, 1410; but we here find it in a late Scottish dress. The ascription of it to 'Chaucer,' in the MS., is an obvious error; it was written ten years after his death.

XXVII. Leaulte vault Richesse. This piece, like the former, has no title in the MS.; but the words Leaulte vault Richesse (Loyalty deserves riches) occur at the end of it. If the original was in a Midland dialect, it must belong to the latter part of the fifteenth century. Even in these eight lines we find a contradiction to Chaucer's usage; for he always uses lent, pp., as a monosyllable, and rent-e as a dissyllable. It is further remarkable that he never uses content as an adjective; it first appears in Rom. Rose, 5628.

XXVIII. Sayings. I give these sayings as printed by Caxton; see vol. i. p. 46, where I note that Caxton did not ascribe them to Chaucer. They are not at all in his style.

It is extremely interesting to observe the ascription of these lines to Merlin; see King Lear, iii. 2. 95.

XXIX. Balade. This poor stanza, with its long-drawn lines, appears in Stowe at the end of 'Chaucer's Works.' In the Trinity MS., it occurs at the end of a copy of The Parlement of Foules.

§ 77. An examination of the pieces contained in the present volume leads us to a somewhat remarkable result, viz. that we readily distinguish in them the handiwork of at least twelve different authors, of whom no two are much alike, whilst every one of them can be distinguished from Chaucer.

These are: (1) the author of The Testament of Love, who writes in a prose style all his own; (2) the author of The Plowmans Tale and Plowmans Crede, with his strong powers of invective and love of alliteration, whose style could never have been mistaken for Chaucer's in any age^[45]; (3) the author of Jack Upland, with his direct and searching questions; (4) John Gower, with his scrupulous regularity of grammatical usages; (5) Thomas Hoccleve, who too often accents a dissyllable on the latter syllable when it should be accented on the former; (6) Henry Scogan, whose lines are lacking in interest and originality; (7) John Lydgate^[46], who allows his verse too many licences, so that it cannot always be scanned at the first trial; (8) Sir Richard Ros, who writes in English of a quite modern cast, using their and them as in modern English, and wholly discarding the use of final -e as an inflexion; (9) Robert Henryson, who writes smoothly enough and with a fine vein of invention, but employs the Northern dialect; (10) Sir Thomas Clanvowe, who employs the final -e much more frequently than Chaucer or even Gower; (11) the authoress of The Flower and the Leaf and The Assembly of Ladies, to whom the final -e was an archaism, very convenient for metrical embellishment; and (12) the author of The Court of Love, who, while discarding [lxxxiii]the use of the final -e, was glad to use the final -en to save a hiatus or to gain a syllable, and did not hesitate to employ it where it was grammatically wrong to do so.

§ 78. If the reader were to suppose that this exhausts the list, he would be mistaken; for it is quite easy to add at least one known name, and to suggest three others. For the piece numbered XXVI, on p. 449, has been identified as the work of John Walton, who wrote a verse translation of Boethius in the year 1410; whilst it is extremely unlikely that no. XXVII, written in Lowland Scottish, was due to Henryson, the only writer in that dialect who has been mentioned above. This gives a total of fourteen authors already; and I believe that we require yet two more before the Virelai and the Sayings printed by Caxton (nos. XXV and XXVIII) can be satisfactorily accounted for. As for no. XIX—the Envoy to Alison—it may be Lydgate's, but, on the other hand, it may not. And as for no. XXIX, it is of no consequence.

Moreover, it must be remembered that I here only refer to the selected pieces printed in the present volume. If we go further afield, we soon find several more authors, all distinct from those above-mentioned, from each other, and from Chaucer. I will just instance the author of the Isle of Ladies, the authoress (presumably) of The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen, the author of The Craft of Lovers, the 'man unknown' who wrote The Ten Commandments of Love, and the author of the clumsy lines dignified by the title of The Nine Ladies Worthy. It is quite certain that not less than twenty authors are represented in the mass of heterogeneous material which appears under Chaucer's name in a compilation such as that which is printed in the first volume of Chalmers' British Poets; which, precisely on that very account, is useful enough in its own peculiar way.

§ 79. I believe it may be said of nearly every piece in the volume, that it now appears in an improved form. In several cases, I have collated MSS. that have not previously been examined, and have found them to be the best. The Notes are nearly all new; very few have been taken from Bell's Chaucer. Several are due to Schick's useful notes to The Temple of Glas; and some to Krausser's edition of The Black Knight, and to Gröhler's edition of La Belle Dame, both of which reached me after my own notes were all in type. I have added a Glossary [lxxxiv]of the harder words; for others, see the Glossary already printed in vol. vi.

In extenuation of faults, I may plead that I have found it much more difficult to deal with such heterogenous material as is comprised in the present volume than with pieces all written by the same author. The style, the grammar, the mode of scansion, the dialect, and even the pronunciation are constantly shifting, instead of being reasonably consistent, as in the genuine works of Chaucer. Any one who will take the pains to observe these points, to compile a sufficient number of notes upon difficult passages, and to prepare a somewhat full glossary, may thus practically convince himself, as I have done, that not a single piece in the present volume ought ever to have been 'attributed' to Chaucer. That any of them should have been so attributed—and some of them never were—has been the result of negligence, superficiality, and incapacity, such as (it may be hoped) we have seen the last of.

I wish once more to acknowledge my obligations to Mr. E. B. Nicholson, for the loan of his transcript of The Praise of Peace; to Mr. Bradley, for his discovery of the authorship of The Testament of Love and for other assistance as regards the same; to Dr. E. Krausser, for his edition of The Complaint of the Black Knight; to Dr. Gröhler, for his dissertation on La Belle Dame sans Mercy; and to Professor Hales for his kind help as to some difficult points, and particularly with regard to The Court of Love.

PROLOGUE.

Many men there ben that, with eeres openly sprad, so

moche swalowen the deliciousnesse of jestes and of ryme,

by queynt knitting coloures, that of the goodnesse or of the

badnesse of the sentence take they litel hede or els non.

Soothly, dul wit and a thoughtful soule so sore have myned

and graffed in my spirites, that suche craft of endyting wol not

ben of myn acqueyntaunce. And, for rude wordes and boystous

percen the herte of the herer to the in[ne]rest point, and planten

there the sentence of thinges, so that with litel helpe it is able

to springe; this book, that nothing hath of the greet flode of

wit ne of semelich colours, is dolven with rude wordes and

boystous, and so drawe togider, to maken the cacchers therof

ben the more redy to hente sentence.

Some men there ben that peynten with colours riche, and

some with vers, as with red inke, and some with coles and

chalke; and yet is there good matere to the leude people of

thilke chalky purtreyture, as hem thinketh for the tyme; and

afterward the sight of the better colours yeven to hem more

joye for the first leudnesse. So, sothly, this leude clowdy occupacion

is not to prayse but by the leude; for comunly leude

leudnesse commendeth. Eke it shal yeve sight, that other

precious thinges shal be the more in reverence. In Latin

and French hath many soverayne wittes had greet delyt to

[2]

endyte, and have many noble thinges fulfild; but certes, there

ben some that speken their poysye-mater in Frenche, of whiche

speche the Frenche men have as good a fantasye as we have

in hering of Frenche mennes English. And many termes there

ben in English, [of] whiche unneth we Englishmen connen declare

the knowleginge. How shulde than a Frenche man born suche

termes conne jumpere in his mater, but as the jay chatereth

English? Right so, trewly, the understanding of Englishmen

wol not strecche to the privy termes in Frenche, what-so-ever we

bosten of straunge langage. Let than clerkes endyten in Latin,

for they have the propertee of science, and the knowinge in that

facultee; and let Frenchmen in their Frenche also endyten their

queynt termes, for it is kyndely to their mouthes; and let us

shewe our fantasyes in suche wordes as we lerneden of our dames

tonge.

And although this book be litel thank-worthy for the leudnesse

in travaile, yet suche wrytinges excyten men to thilke thinges that

ben necessarie; for every man therby may, as by a perpetual

mirrour, seen the vyces or vertues of other, in whiche thing

lightly may be conceyved to eschewe perils, and necessaries to

cacche, after as aventures have fallen to other people or persons.

Certes, [perfeccion is] the soveraynest thing of desyre, and

moste †creatures resonable have, or els shulde have, ful appetyte

to their perfeccion; unresonable beestes mowen not, sith reson

hath in hem no werking. Than resonable that wol not is comparisoned

to unresonable, and made lyke hem. For-sothe, the

most soverayne and fynal perfeccion of man is in knowing of

a sothe, withouten any entent disceyvable, and in love of oon

very god that is inchaungeable; that is, to knowe and love his

creatour.

¶ Now, principally, the mene to bringe in knowleging and

loving his creatour is the consideracion of thinges made by the

creatour, wherthrough, by thilke thinges that ben made understonding

here to our wittes, arn the unsene privitees of god

made to us sightful and knowing, in our contemplacion and

understonding. These thinges than, forsoth, moche bringen us

[3]

to the ful knowleginge [of] sothe, and to the parfit love of the

maker of hevenly thinges. Lo, David sayth, 'thou hast delyted

me in makinge,' as who sayth, to have delyt in the tune, how god

hath lent me in consideracion of thy makinge.

Wherof Aristotle, in the boke de Animalibus, saith to naturel

philosophers: 'it is a greet lyking in love of knowinge their

creatour; and also in knowinge of causes in kyndely thinges.'

Considred, forsoth, the formes of kyndly thinges and the shap,

a greet kindely love me shulde have to the werkman that

hem made. The crafte of a werkman is shewed in the werke.

Herfore, truly, the philosophers, with a lyvely studie, many

noble thinges right precious and worthy to memory writen;

and by a greet swetande travayle to us leften of causes [of] the

propertees in natures of thinges. To whiche (therfore) philosophers

it was more joy, more lykinge, more herty lust, in

kyndely vertues and maters of reson, the perfeccion by busy

study to knowe, than to have had al the tresour, al the richesse,

al the vainglory that the passed emperours, princes, or kinges

hadden. Therfore the names of hem, in the boke of perpetual

memory, in vertue and pees arn writen; and in the contrarye, that

is to sayne, in Styx, the foule pitte of helle, arn thilke pressed

that suche goodnesse hated. And bycause this book shal be of

love, and the pryme causes of steringe in that doinge, with passions

and diseses for wantinge of desyre, I wil that this book be cleped

The Testament of Love.

But now, thou reder, who is thilke that wil not in scorne

laughe, to here a dwarfe, or els halfe a man, say he wil rende

out the swerde of Hercules handes, and also he shuld sette

Hercules Gades a myle yet ferther; and over that, he had

power of strengthe to pulle up the spere, that Alisander the

noble might never wagge? And that, passing al thinge, to ben

mayster of Fraunce by might, there-as the noble gracious Edward

the thirde, for al his greet prowesse in victories, ne might al yet

conquere?

Certes, I wot wel, ther shal be mad more scorne and jape

of me, that I, so unworthily clothed al-togider in the cloudy cloude

[4]

of unconninge, wil putten me in prees to speke of love, or els

of the causes in that matter, sithen al the grettest clerkes han

had ynough to don, and (as who sayth) †gadered up clene toforn

hem, and with their sharpe sythes of conning al mowen, and

100

mad therof grete rekes and noble, ful of al plentees, to fede me

and many another. Envye, forsothe, commendeth nought his

reson that he hath in hayne, be it never so trusty. And al-though

these noble repers, as good workmen and worthy their hyre,

han al drawe and bounde up in the sheves, and mad many

105

shockes, yet have I ensample to gadere the smale crommes,

and fullen my walet of tho that fallen from the borde among

the smale houndes, notwithstandinge the travayle of the

almoigner, that hath drawe up in the cloth al the remissailes,

as trenchours, and the relief, to bere to the almesse.

110

Yet also have I leve of the noble husbande Boëce, al-though

I be a straunger of conninge, to come after his doctrine, and

these grete workmen, and glene my handfuls of the shedinge

after their handes; and, if me faile ought of my ful, to encrese

my porcion with that I shal drawe by privitees out of the shocke.

115

A slye servaunt in his owne helpe is often moche commended;

knowing of trouth in causes of thinges was more hardyer in the

first sechers (and so sayth Aristotle), and lighter in us that han

folowed after. For their passing †studies han fresshed our wittes,

and our understandinge han excyted, in consideracion of trouth,

120

by sharpnesse of their resons. Utterly these thinges be no

dremes ne japes, to throwe to hogges; it is lyflich mete for

children of trouthe; and as they me betiden, whan I pilgrimaged

out of my kith in winter; whan the †weder out of mesure was

boystous, and the wylde wind Boreas, as his kind asketh, with

125

dryinge coldes maked the wawes of the occian-see so to aryse

unkyndely over the commune bankes, that it was in poynte to

spille al the erthe.

Thus endeth the Prologue; and here-after foloweth the

first book of the Testament of Love.

2. delyciousnesse; (and elsewhere, y is often replaced by i). 4. none. 5. Sothely. wytte. 8. inrest poynte. 10. spring. boke. great floode. 12. catchers. 13. hent. 18. afterwarde. 19. leudenesse. 20. comenly. 21. leudenesse. 23. gret delyte.

24. fulfylde. 27. englysshe. 28. englysshe; supply of. englyssh-. 29. Howe. borne. 31. englyssh. englyssh-. 32. stretche. 34. propertie. 35. facultie. lette. 39. boke. thanke worthy. 42. sene. 44. catche. 45. I supply perfeccion is; to make sense. soueraynst. 46. creature (sic). reasonable. 47, 50. perfection. 47. sythe reason. 48. reasonable. 51. one. 54. Nowe. meane. 56. be (for by). 57. arne.

60. I supply of. parfyte. 61. haste. 62. delyte (this sentence is corrupt). 64. saythe. 65. great. 66, 67. thynges consydred. Forsoth (sic). 68. great. me (sic); for men. 72. great. Supply of. 73. propertyes. 75. matters of reason. perfection. 76. treasour. 79. peace. 80. stixe. 81. boke. 83. dyseases. boke. 85. nowe. 87. set. 89. pul. 92. great. 94. wote. made. 95. vnworthely.

98. gathered. toforne. 100. made. great. plentyes. 102. reason. hayn (sic). 102. -thoughe. 103. hyer. 104. made. 105. gader. 106. fullyn. amonge. 108. remyssayles. 109. relyef. 112. great. 113. encrease. 114. priuytyes. 116. knoweyng. 118. study (sic). 120. reasons. 121. lyfelyche meate. 122. betiden (sic); past tense. 123. wether. measure. 124. wynde Borias. kynde. 125. dryenge. 127. spyl. (rubric) boke.

CHAPTER I.

Alas! Fortune! alas! I that som-tyme in delicious houres

was wont to enjoye blisful stoundes, am now drive by

unhappy hevinesse to bewaile my sondry yvels in tene!

Trewly, I leve, in myn herte is writte, of perdurable letters, al the

entencions of lamentacion that now ben y-nempned! For any

maner disese outward, in sobbing maner, sheweth sorowful yexinge

from within. Thus from my comfort I ginne to spille, sith she

that shulde me solace is fer fro my presence. Certes, her

absence is to me an helle; my sterving deth thus in wo it myneth,

that endeles care is throughout myne herte clenched; blisse of

my joye, that ofte me murthed, is turned in-to galle, to thinke on

thing that may not, at my wil, in armes me hente! Mirth is

chaunged in-to tene, whan swink is there continually that reste was

wont to sojourne and have dwelling-place. Thus witless, thoughtful,

sightles lokinge, I endure my penaunce in this derke prison,

†caitived fro frendshippe and acquaintaunce, and forsaken of al

that any †word dare speke. Straunge hath by waye of intrucioun

mad his home, there me shulde be, if reson were herd as he

shulde. Never-the-later yet hertly, lady precious Margarit, have

mynde on thy servaunt; and thinke on his disese, how lightles he

liveth, sithe the bemes brennende in love of thyn eyen are so

bewent, that worldes and cloudes atwene us twey wol nat suffre

my thoughtes of hem to be enlumined! Thinke that oon vertue

of a Margarite precious is, amonges many other, the sorouful to

comforte; yet †whyles that, me sorouful to comforte, is my lust

to have nought els at this tyme, d[r]ede ne deth ne no maner

traveyle hath no power, myn herte so moche to fade, as shulde

to here of a twinkling in your disese! Ah! god forbede that;

but yet let me deye, let me sterve withouten any mesure of

penaunce, rather than myn hertely thinking comfort in ought

were disesed! What may my service avayle, in absence of her

that my service shulde accepte? Is this nat endeles sorowe to

[6]

thinke? Yes, yes, god wot; myn herte breketh nigh a-sonder.

How shulde the ground, without kyndly noriture, bringen forth

any frutes? How shulde a ship, withouten a sterne, in the grete see

be governed? How shulde I, withouten my blisse, my herte, my

desyre, my joye, my goodnesse, endure in this contrarious prison,

that thinke every hour in the day an hundred winter? Wel may

now Eve sayn to me, 'Adam, in sorowe fallen from welth, driven

art thou out of paradise, with swete thy sustenaunce to beswinke!'

Depe in this pyninge pitte with wo I ligge y-stocked,

with chaynes linked of care and of tene. It is so hye from thens

I lye and the commune erth, there ne is cable in no lande maked,

that might strecche to me, to drawe me in-to blisse; ne steyers

to steye on is none; so that, without recover, endeles here to

endure, I wot wel, I [am] purveyed. O, where art thou now,

frendship, that som-tyme, with laughande chere, madest bothe

face and countenaunce to me-wardes? Truely, now art thou

went out of towne. But ever, me thinketh, he wereth his olde

clothes, and that the soule in the whiche the lyfe of frendship was

in, is drawen out from his other spirites. Now than, farewel,

frendship! and farewel, felawes! Me thinketh, ye al han taken

your leve; no force of you al at ones. But, lady of love, ye wote

what I mene; yet thinke on thy servaunt that for thy love

spilleth; al thinges have I forsake to folowen thyn hestes;

rewarde me with a thought, though ye do naught els. Remembraunce

of love lyth so sore under my brest, that other thought

cometh not in my mynde but gladnesse, to thinke on your goodnesse

and your mery chere; †ferdnes and sorowe, to thinke on your

wreche and your daunger; from whiche Christ me save! My

greet joye it is to have in meditacion the bountees, the vertues,

the nobley in you printed; sorowe and helle comen at ones, to

suppose that I be †weyved. Thus with care, sorowe, and tene

am I shapt, myn ende with dethe to make. Now, good goodly,

thinke on this. O wrecched foole that I am, fallen in-to so lowe,

the hete of my brenning tene hath me al defased. How shulde

ye, lady, sette prise on so foule fylthe? My conninge is thinne,

my wit is exiled; lyke to a foole naturel am I comparisoned.

[7]

Trewly, lady, but your mercy the more were, I wot wel al my

labour were in ydel; your mercy than passeth right. God graunt

that proposicion to be verifyed in me; so that, by truste of good

hope, I mowe come to the haven of ese. And sith it is impossible,

the colours of your qualitees to chaunge: and forsothe I

wot wel, wem ne spot may not abyde there so noble vertue

haboundeth, so that the defasing to you is verily [un]imaginable,

as countenaunce of goodnesse with encresinge vertue is so in you

knit, to abyde by necessary maner: yet, if the revers mighte falle

(which is ayenst kynde), I †wot wel myn herte ne shulde therfore

naught flitte, by the leste poynt of gemetrye; so sadly is it

†souded, that away from your service in love may he not departe.

O love, whan shal I ben plesed? O charitee, whan shal I ben

esed? O good goodly, whan shal the dyce turne? O ful of

vertue, do the chaunce of comfort upwarde to falle! O love,

whan wolt thou thinke on thy servaunt? I can no more but here,

out-cast of al welfare, abyde the day of my dethe, or els to see the

sight that might al my wellinge sorowes voyde, and of the flode

make an ebbe. These diseses mowen wel, by duresse of sorowe,

make my lyfe to unbodye, and so for to dye; but certes ye, lady,

in a ful perfeccion of love ben so knit with my soule, that deth

may not thilke knotte unbynde ne departe; so that ye and my

soule togider †in endeles blisse shulde dwelle; and there shal

my soule at the ful ben esed, that he may have your presence, to

shewe th'entent of his desyres. Ah, dere god! that shal be a

greet joye! Now, erthely goddesse, take regarde of thy servant,

though I be feble; for thou art wont to prayse them better that

wolde conne serve in love, al be he ful mener than kinges or

princes that wol not have that vertue in mynde.

Now, precious Margaryte, that with thy noble vertue hast

drawen me in-to love first, me weninge therof to have blisse,

100

[ther]-as galle and aloes are so moche spronge, that savour of

swetnesse may I not ataste. Alas! that your benigne eyen, in

whiche that mercy semeth to have al his noriture, nil by no

waye tourne the clerenesse of mercy to me-wardes! Alas! that

your brennande vertues, shyning amonges al folk, and enlumininge

[8]

105

al other people by habundaunce of encresing, sheweth to me

but smoke and no light! These thinges to thinke in myn herte

maketh every day weping in myn eyen to renne. These liggen

on my backe so sore, that importable burthen me semeth on my

backe to be charged; it maketh me backwarde to meve, whan

110

my steppes by comune course even-forth pretende. These

thinges also, on right syde and lift, have me so envolved with

care, that wanhope of helpe is throughout me ronne; trewly,

†I leve, that graceles is my fortune, whiche that ever sheweth it

me-wardes by a cloudy disese, al redy to make stormes of tene;

115

and the blisful syde halt stil awayward, and wol it not suffre to

me-wardes to turne; no force, yet wol I not ben conquered.

O, alas! that your nobley, so moche among al other creatures

commended by †flowinge streme †of al maner vertues, but

ther ben wonderful, I not whiche that let the flood to come

120

in-to my soule; wherefore, purely mated with sorowe thorough-sought,

my-selfe I crye on your goodnesse to have pitè on this

caytif, that in the in[ne]rest degree of sorowe and disese is left,

and, without your goodly wil, from any helpe and recovery.

These sorowes may I not sustene, but-if my sorowe shulde be

125

told and to you-wardes shewed; although moche space is bitwene

us twayne, yet me thinketh that by suche †joleyvinge wordes my

disese ginneth ebbe. Trewly, me thinketh that the sowne of my

lamentacious weping is right now flowe in-to your presence, and

there cryeth after mercy and grace, to which thing (me semeth)

130

thee list non answere to yeve, but with a deynous chere ye

commaunden it to avoide; but god forbid that any word shuld of

you springe, to have so litel routh! Pardè, pitè and mercy in

every Margarite is closed by kynde amonges many other vertues,

by qualitees of comfort; but comfort is to me right naught worth,

135

withouten mercy and pitè of you alone; whiche thinges hastely

god me graunt for his mercy!

Ch. I. 2. enioy. 3. sondrye. 5. nowe. 6. disease outwarde. 7. comforte. 8. ferre. 9. hell. dethe. 10. endelesse. 12. hent. 13. swynke. 14. dwellynge-. wytlesse. 15. syghtlesse. prisone. 16. caytisned (for caytifued). 17. wode (!); for worde; read word. 18. made. reason. herde. 20. disease. 21. beames. 22. For be-went, Th. has be-went. 23. one. 25. wyl of; apparently an error for whyles (which I adopt). luste. 26. dede (for drede). 27. myne. 28. twynckelynge. disease. 29. lette (twice). dey. measure. 30. myne. comforte. 31. diseased. maye. aueyle. 32. endlesse.

33. wote; myne hert breaketh. 34. howe. grounde. forthe. 35. howe. shippe. great. 36. Howe. 39. nowe. sayne. 40. arte. weate. 44. stretche. 45. stey. endlesse. 46. wotte. I supply am. spurveyde. arte. nowe. 47. frenshyppe (sic). 48. nowe arte. 49. weareth. 51. Nowe. 53. leaue. 57. lythe. 59. frendes (sic); for ferdnes: cf. p. 9, l. 9. 60. Christe. 61. great. bounties. 62. hel. 63. veyned (sic); for weyued. 64. shapte. Nowe. 65. wretched. 66. heate. 68. wytte.

69. wote. 72. ease. sythe. 73. qualyties. 74. wote. wemme ne spotte maye. 75. Read unimaginable. 77. knytte. fal. 78. wol wel (for wot wel). 80. sonded; read souded. maye. 81. pleased. charyte. 82. eased. 83. comforte. fal. 85. out caste. daye. se. 86. flodde. 87. diseases. 89. perfectyon. knytte. dethe. 91. togyther is endelesse in blysse(!). dwel. 92. eased. 93. thentent. 94. great. Nowe. 95. arte wonte. 98. Nowe. haste. 100. I supply ther. 104. folke.

105. encreasing. 110. forthe. 112, 113. trewly and leue; read trewly I leve. 113. gracelesse. 114. disease. 115. halte. 117. (The sentence beginning O, alas seems hopelessly corrupt; there are pause-marks after vertues and wonderful.) 118. folowynge; read flowinge. by; read of. 119. flode. 122. caytife. inrest. disease. lefte. 124. maye. 125. tolde. 126. ioleynynge (sic). 127. disease. 128. nowe. 130. the lyst none. 131. worde. 134. qualites of comforte. worthe.

CHAPTER II.

Rehersinge these thinges and many other, without tyme

or moment of rest, me semed, for anguisshe of disese, that

al-togider I was ravisshed, I can not telle how; but hoolly all my

passions and felinges weren lost, as it semed, for the tyme; and

sodainly a maner of drede lighte in me al at ones; nought suche

fere as folk have of an enemy, that were mighty and wolde hem

greve or don hem disese. For, I trowe, this is wel knowe to many

persones, that otherwhyle, if a man be in his soveraignes presence,

a maner of ferdnesse crepeth in his herte, not for harme, but of

goodly subjeccion; namely, as men reden that aungels ben aferde

of our saviour in heven. And pardè, there ne is, ne may no

passion of disese be; but it is to mene, that angels ben adradde,

not by †ferdnes of drede, sithen they ben perfitly blissed, [but]

as [by] affeccion of wonderfulnesse and by service of obedience.

Suche ferde also han these lovers in presence of their loves, and

subjectes aforn their soveraynes. Right so with ferdnesse myn

herte was caught. And I sodainly astonied, there entred in-to

the place there I was logged a lady, the semeliest and most

goodly to my sight that ever to-forn apered to any creature; and

trewly, in the blustringe of her looke, she yave gladnesse and

comfort sodaynly to al my wittes; and right so she doth to

every wight that cometh in her presence. And for she was so

goodly, as me thought, myn herte began somdele to be enbolded,

and wexte a litel hardy to speke; but yet, with a quakinge

voyce, as I durste, I salued her, and enquired what she was;

and why she, so worthy to sight, dayned to entre in-to so foule

a dongeon, and namely a prison, without leve of my kepers.

For certes, al-though the vertue of dedes of mercy strecchen to

visiten the poore prisoners, and hem, after that facultees ben had,

to comforte, me semed that I was so fer fallen in-to miserye and

wrecched hid caytifnesse, that me shulde no precious thing

neighe; and also, that for my sorowe every wight shulde ben

hevy, and wisshe my recovery. But whan this lady had somdele

[10]

apperceyved, as wel by my wordes as by my chere, what thought

besied me within, with a good womanly countenance she sayde

these wordes:—

'O my nory, wenest thou that my maner be, to foryete my

frendes or my servauntes? Nay,' quod she, 'it is my ful entente

to visyte and comforte al my frendshippes and allyes, as wel in

tyme of perturbacion as of moost propertee of blisse; in me shal

unkyndnesse never be founden: and also, sithen I have so fewe

especial trewe now in these dayes. Wherefore I may wel at more

leysar come to hem that me deserven; and if my cominge may

in any thinge avayle, wete wel, I wol come often.'

'Now, good lady,' quod I, 'that art so fayre on to loke,

reyninge hony by thy wordes, blisse of paradys arn thy lokinges,

joye and comfort are thy movinges. What is thy name? How

is it that in you is so mokel werkinge vertues enpight, as me

semeth, and in none other creature that ever saw I with myne

eyen?'

'My disciple,' quod she, 'me wondreth of thy wordes and on

thee, that for a litel disese hast foryeten my name. Wost thou

not wel that I am Love, that first thee brought to thy service?'

'O good lady,' quod I, 'is this worship to thee or to thyn

excellence, for to come in-to so foule a place? Pardè, somtyme,

tho I was in prosperitè and with forayne goodes envolved, I had

mokil to done to drawe thee to myn hostel; and yet many

werninges thou madest er thou liste fully to graunte, thyn home

to make at my dwelling-place; and now thou comest goodly by

thyn owne vyse, to comforte me with wordes; and so there-thorough

I ginne remembre on passed gladnesse. Trewly, lady,

I ne wot whether I shal say welcome or non, sithen thy coming

wol as moche do me tene and sorowe, as gladnesse and mirthe.

See why: for that me comforteth to thinke on passed gladnesse,

that me anoyeth efte to be in doinge. Thus thy cominge bothe

gladdeth and teneth, and that is cause of moche sorowe. Lo, lady,

how than I am comforted by your comminge'; and with that

I gan in teeres to distille, and tenderly wepe.

'Now, certes,' quod Love, 'I see wel, and that me over-thinketh,

[11]

that wit in thee fayleth, and [thou] art in pointe

to dote.'

'Trewly,' quod I, 'that have ye maked, and that ever wol

I rue.'

'Wottest thou not wel,' quod she, 'that every shepherde ought

by reson to seke his sperkelande sheep, that arn ronne in-to

wildernesse among busshes and perils, and hem to their pasture

ayen-bringe, and take on hem privy besy cure of keping? And

though the unconninge sheep scattred wolde ben lost, renning to

wildernesse, and to desertes drawe, or els wolden putte hem-selfe

to the swalowinge wolfe, yet shal the shepherde, by businesse and

travayle, so putte him forth, that he shal not lete hem be lost by

no waye. A good shepherde putteth rather his lyf to ben lost for

his sheep. But for thou shalt not wene me being of werse

condicion, trewly, for everich of my folke, and for al tho that to

me-ward be knit in any condicion, I wol rather dye than suffre

hem through errour to ben spilte. For me liste, and it me lyketh,

of al myne a shepherdesse to be cleped. Wost thou not wel,

I fayled never wight, but he me refused and wolde negligently go

with unkyndenesse? And yet, pardè, have I many such holpe

and releved, and they have ofte me begyled; but ever, at the ende,

it discendeth in their owne nekkes. Hast thou not rad how kinde

I was to Paris, Priamus sone of Troy? How Jason me falsed,

for al his false behest? How Cesars †swink, I lefte it for no tene

til he was troned in my blisse for his service? What!' quod she,

'most of al, maked I not a loveday bytwene god and mankynde,

and chees a mayde to be nompere, to putte the quarel at ende?

Lo! how I have travayled to have thank on al sydes, and yet list

me not to reste, and I might fynde on †whom I shulde werche.

But trewly, myn owne disciple, bycause I have thee founde, at al

100

assayes, in thy wil to be redy myn hestes to have folowed, and

hast ben trewe to that Margarite-perle that ones I thee shewed;

and she alwaye, ayenward, hath mad but daungerous chere;

I am come, in propre person, to putte thee out of errours, and

make thee gladde by wayes of reson; so that sorow ne disese shal

[12]

105

no more hereafter thee amaistry. Wherthrough I hope thou

shalt lightly come to the grace, that thou longe hast desyred, of

thilke jewel. Hast thou not herd many ensamples, how I have

comforted and releved the scholers of my lore? Who hath

worthyed kinges in the felde? Who hath honoured ladyes in

110

boure by a perpetuel mirrour of their tr[o]uthe in my service?

Who hath caused worthy folk to voyde vyce and shame? Who

hath holde cytees and realmes in prosperitè? If thee liste clepe

ayen thyn olde remembraunce, thou coudest every point of this

declare in especial; and say that I, thy maistresse, have be cause,

115

causing these thinges and many mo other.'

'Now, y-wis, madame,' quod I, 'al these thinges I knowe wel

my-selfe, and that thyn excellence passeth the understanding of

us beestes; and that no mannes wit erthely may comprehende thy

vertues.'

120

'Wel than,' quod she, 'for I see thee in disese and sorowe,

I wot wel thou art oon of my nories; I may not suffre thee so to

make sorowe, thyn owne selfe to shende. But I my-selfe come

to be thy fere, thyn hevy charge to make to seme the lesse. For wo

is him that is alone; and to the sorye, to ben moned by a sorouful

125

wight, it is greet gladnesse. Right so, with my sicke frendes I am

sicke; and with sorie I can not els but sorowe make, til whan

I have hem releved in suche wyse, that gladnesse, in a maner of

counterpaysing, shal restore as mokil in joye as the passed hevinesse

biforn did in tene. And also,' quod she, 'whan any of my

130

servauntes ben alone in solitary place, I have yet ever besied me

to be with hem, in comfort of their hertes, and taught hem to

make songes of playnte and of blisse, and to endyten letters of

rethorike in queynt understondinges, and to bethinke hem in what

wyse they might best their ladies in good service plese; and

135

also to lerne maner in countenaunce, in wordes, and in bering,

and to ben meke and lowly to every wight, his name and fame to

encrese; and to yeve gret yeftes and large, that his renomè may

springen. But thee therof have I excused; for thy losse and thy

grete costages, wherthrough thou art nedy, arn nothing to me

140

unknowen; but I hope to god somtyme it shal ben amended, as

[13]

thus I sayd. In norture have I taught al myne; and in curtesye

made hem expert, their ladies hertes to winne; and if any wolde

[b]en deynous or proude, or be envious or of wrecches acqueyntaunce,

hasteliche have I suche voyded out of my scole. For

145

al vyces trewly I hate; vertues and worthinesse in al my power

I avaunce.'

'Ah! worthy creature,' quod I, 'and by juste cause the name

of goddesse dignely ye mowe bere! In thee lyth the grace

thorough whiche any creature in this worlde hath any goodnesse.

150

Trewly, al maner of blisse and preciousnesse in vertue out of

thee springen and wellen, as brokes and rivers proceden from

their springes. And lyke as al waters by kynde drawen to the see,

so al kyndely thinges thresten, by ful appetyte of desyre, to drawe

after thy steppes, and to thy presence aproche as to their kyndely

155

perfeccion. How dare than beestes in this worlde aught forfete

ayenst thy devyne purveyaunce? Also, lady, ye knowen al the

privy thoughtes; in hertes no counsayl may ben hid from your

knowing. Wherfore I wot wel, lady, that ye knowe your-selfe that

I in my conscience am and have ben willinge to your service, al

160

coude I never do as I shulde; yet, forsothe, fayned I never to

love otherwyse than was in myn herte; and if I coude have made

chere to one and y-thought another, as many other doon alday

afore myn eyen, I trowe it wolde not me have vayled.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'haddest thou so don, I wolde not now

165

have thee here visited.'

'Ye wete wel, lady, eke,' quod I, 'that I have not played raket,

"nettil in, docke out," and with the wethercocke waved; and

trewly, there ye me sette, by acorde of my conscience I wolde

not flye, til ye and reson, by apert strength, maden myn herte to

170

tourne.'

'In good fayth,' quod she, 'I have knowe thee ever of tho

condicions; and sithen thou woldest (in as moch as in thee was)

a made me privy of thy counsayl and juge of thy conscience

(though I forsook it in tho dayes til I saw better my tyme), wolde

175

never god that I shuld now fayle; but ever I wol be redy

witnessing thy sothe, in what place that ever I shal, ayenst al tho

that wol the contrary susteyne. And for as moche as to me is

[14]

naught unknowen ne hid of thy privy herte, but al hast thou tho

thinges mad to me open at the ful, that hath caused my cominge

180

in-to this prison, to voyde the webbes of thyne eyen, to make thee

clerely to see the errours thou hast ben in. And bycause that

men ben of dyvers condicions, some adradde to saye a sothe, and

some for a sothe anon redy to fighte, and also that I may not my-selfe

ben in place to withsaye thilke men that of thee speken

185

otherwyse than the sothe, I wol and I charge thee, in vertue of

obedience that thou to me owest, to wryten my wordes and sette

hem in wrytinges, that they mowe, as my witnessinge, ben

noted among the people. For bookes written neyther dreden ne

shamen, ne stryve conne; but only shewen the entente of the

190

wryter, and yeve remembraunce to the herer; and if any wol in

thy presence saye any-thing to tho wryters, loke boldely; truste on

Mars to answere at the ful. For certes, I shal him enfourme of

al the trouthe in thy love, with thy conscience; so that of his

helpe thou shalt not varye at thy nede. I trowe the strongest and

195

the beste that may be founde wol not transverse thy wordes;

wherof than woldest thou drede?'

Ch. II. 2. disease. 3. tel howe. holy. 4. loste. 5. light. 6. feare. folke. 7. done. disease. 9. ferdenesse. 10. subiection. 11. maye. 12. disease. meane. 13. frendes; read ferdnes; see l. 16. perfytely. I supply but and by. 14. affection. 16. aforne. ferdenesse. 18. lodged. moste. 19. to-forne. 21. comforte sodaynely. dothe. 23. myne. beganne. 27. prisone. leaue. 28. al-thoughe. stretchen. 29. faculties. 30. ferre. 31. wretched hyd. thynge. 33. heauy.

37. wenyst. foryet. 38. naye. 39. frenshippes. alyes. 40. propertye. 42. nowe. 42, 43. maye. 45. Nowe. 46. honny. paradise. 47. comforte. howe. 49. sawe. 52. the. disease haste. Woste. 53. the. 54. worshyppe. the. thyne. 57. the. 58. graunt thyne. 59. nowe. 60. thyne. 61. thoroughe. 62. wotte. none. 64. se. 67. howe. 69. Nowe. se.

70. wytte in the. I supply thou. arte. 74. shepeherde. 75. shepe. arne. 76. amonge. 78. tho. shepe. loste. 79. put. 80. shepeherde. 81. put. forthe. let. loste. 82. shepeherde. lyfe. loste. 83. shepe. shalte. 85. mewarde. 86. throughe. 91. Haste. radde howe. 92. sonne. 93. For false read faire. howe Sesars sonke (sic); corrupt. 95. louedaye. 96. chese. put. 97. howe. thanke. 98. rest. home; read whom. 99. the. 101. haste. the. 102. ayenwarde. made. 103. put the. 104. the. reason. disease.

105. the. 106. shalte. haste. 107. Haste. herde. howe. 111. folke. 112. cyties. the. cleape. 113. poynte. 116. Nowe. 118. wytte. 120. se the in disease. 121. wote. arte one. maye. the. 123. thyne. 125. great. 129. byforne. 131. comforte. 134. please. 135. bearyng. 137. encrease. maye. 138. the. 139. great. wherthroughe. arte. arne no-thinge.

141. thus as I; om. as. 143. endeynous; read ben deynous. wretches. 144. schole. 148. beare. the lythe. 151. the. 155. perfection. Howe. 157. counsayle maye. hydde. 158. wote. 162. doone aldaye. 164. done. nowe. 165. the. 166. playde. 169. reason. aperte. 171. faythe. the. 172. the. 173. counsayle. 174. forsoke. 175. nowe.

178. hert. 179. made. 180. the. 181. se. 183. anone. fyght. maye. 184. withsay. the. 185. the. 188. amonge. 189. onely. 191. -thynge. 194. shalte. 195. maye. transuers.

CHAPTER III.

Gretly was I tho gladded of these wordes, and (as who

saith) wexen somdel light in herte; both for the auctoritè

of witnesse, and also for sikernesse of helpe of the forsayd

beheste, and sayd:—

'Trewly, lady, now am I wel gladded through comfort of

your wordes. Be it now lykinge unto your nobley to shewe

whiche folk diffame your servauntes, sithe your service ought

above al other thinges to ben commended.'

'Yet,' quod she, 'I see wel thy soule is not al out of the

amased cloude. Thee were better to here thing that thee might

lighte out of thyn hevy charge and after knowing of thyn owne

helpe, than to stirre swete wordes and such resons to here;

for in a thoughtful soule (and namely suche oon as thou art)

wol not yet suche thinges sinken. Come of, therfore, and let

[15]

me seen thy hevy charge, that I may the lightlier for thy comfort

purveye.'

'Now, certes, lady,' quod I, 'the moste comfort I might have

were utterly to wete me be sure in herte of that Margaryte I

serve; and so I thinke to don with al mightes, whyle my lyfe

dureth.'

'Than,' quod she, 'mayst thou therafter, in suche wyse that

misplesaunce ne entre?'

'In good fayth,' quod I, 'there shal no misplesaunce be

caused through trespace on my syde.'

'And I do thee to weten,' quod she, 'I sette never yet person

to serve in no place (but-if he caused the contrary in defautes

and trespaces) that he ne spedde of his service.'

'Myn owne erthly lady,' quod I tho, 'and yet remembre to

your worthinesse how long sithen, by many revolving of yeres,

in tyme whan Octobre his leve ginneth take and Novembre

sheweth him to sight, whan bernes ben ful of goodes as is the

nutte on every halke; and than good lond-tillers ginne shape

for the erthe with greet travayle, to bringe forth more corn to

mannes sustenaunce, ayenst the nexte yeres folowing. In suche

tyme of plentee he that hath an home and is wyse, list not to

wander mervayles to seche, but he be constrayned or excited.

Oft the lothe thing is doon, by excitacion of other mannes

opinion, whiche wolden fayne have myn abydinge. [Tho gan I]

take in herte of luste to travayle and see the wynding of the erthe

in that tyme of winter. By woodes that large stretes wern in,

by smale pathes that swyn and hogges hadden made, as lanes

with ladels their maste to seche, I walked thinkinge alone

a wonder greet whyle; and the grete beestes that the woode

haunten and adorneth al maner forestes, and heerdes gonne to

wilde. Than, er I was war, I neyghed to a see-banke; and for

ferde of the beestes "shipcraft" I cryde. For, lady, I trowe ye

wete wel your-selfe, nothing is werse than the beestes that

shulden ben tame, if they cacche her wildenesse, and ginne ayen

waxe ramage. Thus forsothe was I a-ferd, and to shippe me

hyed.

Than were there y-nowe to lacche myn handes, and drawe me

[16]

to shippe, of whiche many I knew wel the names. Sight was

the first, Lust was another, Thought was the thirde; and Wil eke

was there a mayster; these broughten me within-borde of this

shippe of Traveyle. So whan the sayl was sprad, and this ship

gan to move, the wind and water gan for to ryse, and overthwartly

to turne the welken. The wawes semeden as they kiste togider;

but often under colour of kissinge is mokel old hate prively

closed and kept. The storm so straungely and in a devouring

maner gan so faste us assayle, that I supposed the date of my

deth shulde have mad there his ginning. Now up, now downe,

now under the wawe and now aboven was my ship a greet

whyle. And so by mokel duresse of †weders and of stormes,

and with greet avowing [of] pilgrimages, I was driven to an yle,

where utterly I wende first to have be rescowed; but trewly, †at

the first ginning, it semed me so perillous the haven to cacche,

that but thorow grace I had ben comforted, of lyfe I was ful

dispayred. Trewly, lady, if ye remembre a-right of al maner

thinges, your-selfe cam hastely to sene us see-driven, and to

weten what we weren. But first ye were deynous of chere, after

whiche ye gonne better a-lighte; and ever, as me thought, ye

lived in greet drede of disese; it semed so by your chere.

And whan I was certifyed of your name, the lenger I loked in

you, the more I you goodly dradde; and ever myn herte on you

opened the more; and so in a litel tyme my ship was out of

mynde. But, lady, as ye me ladde, I was war bothe of beestes

and of fisshes, a greet nombre thronging togider; among whiche

a muskel, in a blewe shel, had enclosed a Margaryte-perle, the

moste precious and best that ever to-forn cam in my sight.

And ye tolden your-selfe, that ilke jewel in his kinde was so

good and so vertuous, that her better shulde I never finde, al

sought I ther-after to the worldes ende. And with that I held

my pees a greet whyle; and ever sithen I have me bethought on

the man that sought the precious Margarytes; and whan he had

founden oon to his lyking, he solde al his good to bye that jewel.

Y-wis, thought I, (and yet so I thinke), now have I founden the

jewel that myn herte desyreth; wherto shulde I seche further?

[17]

Trewly, now wol I stinte, and on this Margaryte I sette me for

ever: now than also, sithen I wiste wel it was your wil that

I shulde so suche a service me take; and so to desyre that thing,

of whiche I never have blisse. There liveth non but he hath

disese; your might than that brought me to suche service, that to

me is cause of sorowe and of joye. I wonder of your worde that

ye sayn, "to bringen men in-to joye"; and, pardè, ye wete wel

that defaut ne trespace may not resonably ben put to me-wardes,

as fer as my conscience knoweth.

But of my disese me list now a whyle to speke, and to enforme

you in what maner of blisse ye have me thronge. For truly

I wene, that al gladnesse, al joye, and al mirthe is beshet under

100

locke, and the keye throwe in suche place that it may not be

founde. My brenning wo hath altred al my hewe. Whan

I shulde slepe, I walowe and I thinke, and me disporte. Thus

combred, I seme that al folk had me mased. Also, lady myne,

desyre hath longe dured, some speking to have; or els at the lest

105

have ben enmoysed with sight; and for wantinge of these thinges

my mouth wolde, and he durst, pleyne right sore, sithen yvels

for my goodnesse arn manyfolde to me yolden. I wonder, lady,

trewly, save evermore your reverence, how ye mowe, for shame,

suche thinges suffre on your servaunt to be so multiplied.

110

Wherfore, kneling with a lowe herte, I pray you to rue on this

caytif, that of nothing now may serve. Good lady, if ye liste,

now your help to me shewe, that am of your privyest servantes

at al assayes in this tyme, and under your winges of proteccion.

No help to me-wardes is shapen; how shal than straungers in

115

any wyse after socour loke, whan I, that am so privy, yet of helpe

I do fayle? Further may I not, but thus in this prison abyde;

what bondes and chaynes me holden, lady, ye see wel your-selfe.

A renyant forjuged hath not halfe the care. But thus, syghing

and sobbing, I wayle here alone; and nere it for comfort of your

120

presence, right here wolde I sterve. And yet a litel am I gladded,

that so goodly suche grace and non hap have I hent, graciously

to fynde the precious Margarite, that (al other left) men shulde

bye, if they shulde therfore selle al her substaunce. Wo is me,

[18]

that so many let-games and purpose-brekers ben maked wayters,

125

suche prisoners as I am to overloke and to hinder; and, for

suche lettours, it is hard any suche jewel to winne. Is this, lady,

an honour to thy deitee? Me thinketh, by right, suche people

shulde have no maistrye, ne ben overlokers over none of thy

servauntes. Trewly, were it leful unto you, to al the goddes

130

wolde I playne, that ye rule your devyne purveyaunce amonges

your servantes nothing as ye shulde. Also, lady, my moeble is

insuffysaunt to countervayle the price of this jewel, or els to

make th'eschange. Eke no wight is worthy suche perles to were

but kinges or princes or els their peres. This jewel, for vertue,

135

wold adorne and make fayre al a realme; the nobley of vertue is

so moche, that her goodnesse overal is commended. Who is it

that wolde not wayle, but he might suche richesse have at his

wil? The vertue therof out of this prison may me deliver, and

naught els. And if I be not ther-thorow holpen, I see my-selfe

140

withouten recovery. Although I might hence voyde, yet wolde

I not; I wolde abyde the day that destenee hath me ordeyned,

whiche I suppose is without amendement; so sore is my herte

bounden, that I may thinken non other. Thus strayte, lady,

hath sir Daunger laced me in stockes, I leve it be not your wil;

145

and for I see you taken so litel hede, as me thinketh, and wol

not maken by your might the vertue in mercy of the Margaryte

on me for to strecche, so as ye mowe wel in case that you liste,

my blisse and my mirthe arn feld; sicknesse and sorowe ben

alwaye redy. The cope of tene is wounde aboute al my body,

150

that stonding is me best; unneth may I ligge for pure misesy

sorowe. And yet al this is litel ynough to be the ernest-silver in

forwarde of this bargayne; for treble-folde so mokel muste I suffer

er tyme come of myn ese. For he is worthy no welthe, that may

no wo suffer. And certes, I am hevy to thinke on these thinges;

155

but who shal yeve me water ynough to drinke, lest myn eyen

drye, for renning stremes of teres? Who shal waylen with me

myn owne happy hevinesse? Who shal counsaile me now in

my lyking tene, and in my goodly harse? I not. For ever the

more I brenne, the more I coveyte; the more that I sorow, the

160

more thrist I in gladnesse. Who shal than yeve me a contrarious

[19]

drink, to stanche the thurste of my blisful bitternesse? Lo, thus

I brenne and I drenche; I shiver and I swete. To this reversed

yvel was never yet ordeyned salve; forsoth al †leches ben unconning,

save the Margaryte alone, any suche remedye to purveye.'

Ch. III. 1. gladed; see l. 5. 2. somdele. 5. nowe. comforte. 6. nowe. 7. folke. 9. se. 10. the (twice). 11. light. 13. one. arte.

15. sene. comforte. 16. puruey. 17. Nowe. comforte. 21. mayste. 25. the. set. 29. howe. 30. leaue. 32. londe-. 33. great. forthe. corne. 35. plentie. lyste. 37. doone. 38. I supply Tho gan I. 39. se. 40. werne. 41. swyne. 43. great. great. 44. gone; read gonne. 45. ware. 46. shypcrafte. 48. catche. 49. a-ferde. 51. lache.

52. many; read meynee. knewe. 55. sayle. shyppe. 56. wynde. 58. olde. 59. kepte. storme. 61. made. 61, 62. nowe. 62. shyppe. 62, 64. great. 63. wethers; read weders. 64. I supply of. 65. as; read at. 66. catche. 67. thorowe. 69. came. 71. a-lyght. 72. great. disease. 75. shyppe. 76. lad. ware. 77. great. amonge. 79. to-forne came. 82. helde. 83. peace. great. 85. one. 86. nowe. 87. myne.

88. nowe. 89. Nowe. 91. none. 92. disease. 94. sayne. 95. reasonably. 96. ferre. 97. disease. 103. folke. 106. mouthe. 107. arne. 108. howe. 111. caytife. 112. nowe. helpe. 113. protection. 114. helpe. howe. 115. socoure. 116. maye. 117. se. 119. comforte. 120. gladed. 121. none. hente. 122. lefte. 123. sel.

126. harde. 127. deytie. 133. weare. 139. ther-thorowe. se. 141. daye. destenye. 143. maye. none. 145. se. 147. stretche. 148. arne. 150. miseasy. 151. ynoughe. 153. ease. maye. 156. teares. 157. myne. nowe. 158. harse (sic); for harme?

CHAPTER IV.

And with these wordes I brast out to wepe, that every teere

of myne eyen, for greetnesse semed they boren out the bal of

my sight, and that al the water had ben out-ronne. Than thought

me that Love gan a litel to hevye for miscomfort of my chere;

and gan soberly and in esy maner speke, wel avysinge what

she sayd. Comenly the wyse speken esily and softe for many

skilles. Oon is, their wordes are the better bileved; and also, in

esy spekinge, avysement men may cacche, what to putte forth

and what to holden in. And also, the auctoritè of esy wordes is

the more; and eke, they yeven the more understandinge to other

intencion of the mater. Right so this lady esely and in a softe

maner gan say these wordes.

¶ 'Mervayle,' quod she, 'greet it is, that by no maner of semblaunt,

as fer as I can espye, thou list not to have any recour;

but ever thou playnest and sorowest, and wayes of remedye, for

folisshe wilfulnesse, thee list not to seche. But enquyre of thy

next frendes, that is, thyne inwit and me that have ben thy

maystresse, and the recour and fyne of thy disese; [f]or of disese is

gladnesse and joy, with a ful †vessel so helded, that it quencheth

the felinge of the firste tenes. But thou that were wont not only

these thinges remembre in thyne herte, but also fooles therof to

enfourmen, in adnullinge of their errours and distroying of their

derke opinions, and in comfort of their sere thoughtes; now canst

thou not ben comfort of thyn owne soule, in thinking of these

thinges. O where hast thou be so longe commensal, that hast so

mikel eeten of the potages of foryetfulnesse, and dronken so of

ignorance, that the olde souking[es] whiche thou haddest of me

arn amaystred and lorn fro al maner of knowing? O, this is

[20]

a worthy person to helpe other, that can not counsayle him-selfe!'

And with these wordes, for pure and stronge shame, I wox al

reed.

And she than, seing me so astonyed by dyvers stoundes,

sodainly (which thing kynde hateth) gan deliciously me comforte

with sugred wordes, putting me in ful hope that I shulde the

Margarite getten, if I folowed her hestes; and gan with a fayre

clothe to wypen the teres that hingen on my chekes; and than

sayd I in this wyse.

'Now, wel of wysdom and of al welthe, withouten thee may

nothing ben lerned; thou berest the keyes of al privy thinges.

In vayne travayle men to cacche any stedship, but-if ye, lady,

first the locke unshet. Ye, lady, lerne us the wayes and the

by-pathes to heven. Ye, lady, maken al the hevenly bodyes

goodly and benignely to don her cours, that governen us beestes

here on erthe. Ye armen your servauntes ayenst al debates with

imperciable harneys; ye setten in her hertes insuperable blood of

hardinesse; ye leden hem to the parfit good. Yet al thing

desyreth ye werne no man of helpe, that †wol don your

lore. Graunt me now a litel of your grace, al my sorowes

to cese.'

'Myne owne servaunt,' quod she, 'trewly thou sittest nye

myne herte; and thy badde chere gan sorily me greve. But

amonge thy playning wordes, me thought, thou allegest thinges to

be letting of thyne helpinge and thy grace to hinder; wherthrough,

me thinketh, that wanhope is crope thorough thyn hert. God

forbid that nyse unthrifty thought shulde come in thy mynde,

thy wittes to trouble; sithen every thing in coming is contingent.

Wherfore make no more thy proposicion by an impossible.

But now, I praye thee reherse me ayen tho thinges that

thy mistrust causen; and thilke thinges I thinke by reson to

distroyen, and putte ful hope in thyn herte. What understondest

thou there,' quod she, 'by that thou saydest, "many let-games

are thyn overlokers?" And also by "that thy moeble is insuffysaunt"?

I not what thou therof menest.'

'Trewly,' quod I, 'by the first I say, that janglers evermore

arn spekinge rather of yvel than of good; for every age of man

[21]

rather enclyneth to wickednesse, than any goodnesse to avaunce.

Also false wordes springen so wyde, by the stering of false lying

tonges, that fame als swiftely flyeth to her eres and sayth many

wicked tales; and as soone shal falsenesse ben leved as tr[o]uthe,

for al his gret sothnesse.

'Now by that other,' quod I, 'me thinketh thilke jewel so

precious, that to no suche wrecche as I am wolde vertue therof

extende; and also I am to feble in worldly joyes, any suche

jewel to countrevayle. For suche people that worldly joyes han

at her wil ben sette at the highest degree, and most in reverence

ben accepted. For false wening maketh felicitè therin to be

supposed; but suche caytives as I am evermore ben hindred.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'take good hede, and I shal by reson to

thee shewen, that al these thinges mowe nat lette thy purpos

by the leest point that any wight coude pricke.

Ch. IV. 2. great-. 4. heauy. 5. easy. 6. easyly. 7. One. 8. easy speakynge. catche. put forthe. 9. easy. 11. ladye easely. 13. great. 14. ferre. 16. the lyste. 17. inwytte. 18. disease (twice). 19. nessel; misprint for uessel. 20. wonte. onely. 22. distroyeng. 23. comforte. seare. 24. comforte. 25. haste. 27. soukyng. 28. arne.

30. woxe. 33. thynge. 36. teares. 38. Nowe. wysedom. the. 39. bearest. 40. catche. 43. done her course. 45. blode. 46. leaden. parfyte. thynge. 47. wern. wele; read wol. done. 48. nowe. 49. cease. 53. wherthroughe. 58. nowe. the. 59. reason. 60. put. 61. lette-games. 63. meanest. 65. arne.

CHAPTER V.

Remembrest nat,' quod she, 'ensample is oon of the

strongest maner[es], as for to preve a mannes purpos?

Than if I now, by ensample, enduce thee to any proposicion, is

it nat preved by strength?'

'Yes, forsothe,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'raddest thou never how Paris of Troye and

Heleyne loved togider, and yet had they not entrecomuned of

speche? Also Acrisius shette Dane his doughter in a tour, for

suertee that no wight shulde of her have no maistry in my

service; and yet Jupiter by signes, without any speche, had

al his purpose ayenst her fathers wil. And many suche mo have

ben knitte in trouthe, and yet spake they never togider; for

that is a thing enclosed under secretnesse of privytè, why twey

persons entremellen hertes after a sight. The power in knowing,

of such thinges †to preven, shal nat al utterly be yeven to you

beestes; for many thinges, in suche precious maters, ben

reserved to jugement of devyne purveyaunce; for among lyving

people, by mannes consideracion, moun they nat be determined.

[22]

Wherfore I saye, al the envy, al the janglinge, that wel ny [al]

people upon my servauntes maken †ofte, is rather cause of esployte

than of any hindringe.'

'Why, than,' quod I, 'suffre ye such wrong; and moun, whan

ye list, lightly al such yvels abate? Me semeth, to you it is

a greet unworship.'

'O,' quod she, 'hold now thy pees. I have founden to many

that han ben to me unkynde, that trewly I wol suffre every wight

in that wyse to have disese; and who that continueth to the ende

wel and trewly, hem wol I helpen, and as for oon of myne in-to

blisse [don] to wende. As [in] marcial doing in Grece, who

was y-crowned? By god, nat the strongest; but he that rathest

com and lengest abood and continued in the journey, and spared

nat to traveyle as long as the play leste. But thilke person, that

profred him now to my service, [and] therin is a while, and anon

voideth and [is] redy to another; and so now oon he thinketh

and now another; and in-to water entreth and anon respireth:

such oon list me nat in-to perfit blisse of my service bringe.

A tree ofte set in dyvers places wol nat by kynde endure to bringe

forth frutes. Loke now, I pray thee, how myne olde servauntes

of tyme passed continued in her service, and folowe thou after

their steppes; and than might thou not fayle, in case thou worche

in this wyse.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'it is nothing lich, this world, to tyme

passed; eke this countrè hath oon maner, and another countrè

hath another. And so may nat a man alway putte to his eye the

salve that he heled with his hele. For this is sothe: betwixe

two thinges liche, ofte dyversitè is required.'

'Now,' quod she, 'that is sothe; dyversitè of nation, dyversitè of

lawe, as was maked by many resons; for that dyversitè cometh in

by the contrarious malice of wicked people, that han envyous hertes

ayenst other. But trewly, my lawe to my servauntes ever hath

ben in general, whiche may nat fayle. For right as mannes †lawe

that is ordained by many determinacions, may nat be knowe for

good or badde, til assay of the people han proved it and [founden]

to what ende it draweth; and than it sheweth the necessitè

[23]

therof, or els the impossibilitè: right so the lawe of my servauntes

so wel hath ben proved in general, that hitherto hath it not fayled.

Wiste thou not wel that al the lawe of kynde is my lawe, and

by god ordayned and stablisshed to dure by kynde resoun?

Wherfore al lawe by mannes witte purveyed ought to be underput

to lawe of kynde, whiche yet hath be commune to every kyndely

creature; that my statutes and my lawe that ben kyndely arn

general to al peoples. Olde doinges and by many turninges of

yeres used, and with the peoples maner proved, mowen nat so

lightly ben defased; but newe doinges, contrariauntes suche olde,

ofte causen diseses and breken many purposes. Yet saye I nat

therfore that ayen newe mischeef men shulde nat ordaynen

a newe remedye; but alwaye looke it contrary not the olde no

ferther than the malice streccheth. Than foloweth it, the olde

doinges in love han ben universal, as for most exployte[s] forth

used; wherfore I wol not yet that of my lawes nothing be adnulled.

But thanne to thy purpos: suche jangelers and lokers, and

wayters of games, if thee thinke in aught they mowe dere, yet

love wel alwaye, and sette hem at naught; and let thy port ben

lowe in every wightes presence, and redy in thyne herte to

maynteyne that thou hast begonne; and a litel thee fayne with

mekenesse in wordes; and thus with sleyght shalt thou surmount

and dequace the yvel in their hertes. And wysdom yet is to seme

flye otherwhyle, there a man wol fighte. Thus with suche thinges

the tonges of yvel shal ben stilled; els fully to graunte thy ful

meninge, for-sothe ever was and ever it shal be, that myn enemyes

ben aferde to truste to any fightinge. And therfore have thou no

cowardes herte in my service, no more than somtyme thou

haddest in the contrarye. For if thou drede suche jangleres, thy

viage to make, understand wel, that he that dredeth any rayn, to

sowe his cornes, he shal have than [bare] bernes. Also he that

is aferd of his clothes, let him daunce naked! Who nothing

undertaketh, and namely in my service, nothing acheveth. After

grete stormes the †weder is often mery and smothe. After

moche clatering, there is mokil rowning. Thus, after jangling

wordes, cometh "huissht! pees! and be stille!"'

'O good lady!' quod I than, 'see now how, seven yere passed

[24]

and more, have I graffed and †grobbed a vyne; and with al the

wayes that I coude I sought to a fed me of the grape; but frute

have I non founde. Also I have this seven yere served Laban, to

a wedded Rachel his doughter; but blere-eyed Lya is brought to

my bedde, which alway engendreth my tene, and is ful of children

in tribulacion and in care. And although the clippinges and

kissinges of Rachel shulde seme to me swete, yet is she so

barayne that gladnesse ne joye by no way wol springe; so that

100

I may wepe with Rachel. I may not ben counsayled with solace,

sithen issue of myn hertely desyre is fayled. Now than I pray that

to me [come] sone fredom and grace in this eight[eth] yere; this

eighteth mowe to me bothe be kinrest and masseday, after the

seven werkedays of travayle, to folowe the Christen lawe; and,

105

what ever ye do els, that thilke Margaryte be holden so, lady, in

your privy chambre, that she in this case to none other person be

committed.'

'Loke than,' quod she, 'thou persever in my service, in whiche

I have thee grounded; that thilke scorn in thyn enemyes mowe

110

this on thy person be not sothed: "lo! this man began to edefye,

but, for his foundement is bad, to the ende may he it not bringe."

For mekenesse in countenaunce, with a manly hert in dedes and

in longe continuaunce, is the conisance of my livery to al my

retinue delivered. What wenest thou, that me list avaunce suche

115

persons as loven the first sittinges at feestes, the highest stoles

in churches and in hal, loutinges of peoples in markettes and fayres;

unstedfaste to byde in one place any whyle togider; wening his

owne wit more excellent than other; scorning al maner devyse

but his own? Nay, nay, god wot, these shul nothing parten of

120

my blisse. Truly, my maner here-toforn hath ben [to] worship[pe]

with my blisse lyons in the felde and lambes in chambre;

egles at assaute and maydens in halle; foxes in counsayle, stil[le]

in their dedes; and their proteccioun is graunted, redy to ben

a bridge; and their baner is arered, like wolves in the felde.

125

Thus, by these wayes, shul men ben avaunced; ensample of

David, that from keping of shepe was drawen up in-to the order

of kingly governaunce; and Jupiter, from a bole, to ben Europes

fere; and Julius Cesar, from the lowest degrè in Rome, to be

mayster of al erthly princes; and Eneas from hel, to be king of

[25]

130

the countrè there Rome is now stonding. And so to thee I say;

thy grace, by bering ther-after, may sette thee in suche plight,

that no jangling may greve the leest tucke of thy hemmes; that

[suche] are their †jangles, is nought to counte at a cresse in thy

disavauntage.

Ch. V. 1. one. 2. maner; read maneres. purpose. 3. nowe. the. 4. proued. 6. howe. 9. suertie. 15. so; read to. 17. lyueng.

19. I supply al. 20. efte; read ofte. 24. great. 25. holde nowe thy peace. 27. disease. 29. one. I supply don. I supply in. 31. come. abode. 32. lest. 33. nowe. I supply and. 34. I supply is. nowe one. 35. nowe. 36. one. perfyte. 38. nowe. the howe. 42. worlde. 43. one. 44. alwaye put. 45. healed. 47. Nowe. 48. reasons. 51. lawes; read lawe. 52. determinatiōs. 53. I supply founden.

58. reasoun. 59. purueyde. vnderputte. 61. arne. 65. diseases. breaken. 66. mischefe. 68. stretcheth. 69. exployte forthe. 70. nothynge. 71. purpose. 72. the. 73. lette. porte. 75. the. 77. wysdome. 78. fyght. 79. graunt. 80. meanynge. 84. vnderstande. rayne. 85. I supply bare. 86. aferde. 88. great. wether; read weder. 90. huysshte. peace. styl. 91. se nowe howe.

92. groubed. 94. none. 101. Nowe. 102. I supply come. 103. kynrest (sic). 109. skorne. 110. this; read thus? 120. toforne. 121. worship; read worshippe (verb). 122. styl. 123. protection.

CHAPTER VI.

Ever,' quod she, 'hath the people in this worlde desyred

to have had greet name in worthinesse, and hated foule

to bere any [en]fame; and that is oon of the objeccions thou

alegest to be ayen thyne hertely desyre.'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod I; 'and that, so comenly, the people wol

lye, and bringe aboute suche enfame.'

'Now,' quod she, 'if men with lesinges putte on thee enfame,

wenest thy-selfe therby ben enpeyred? That wening is wrong;

see why; for as moche as they lyen, thy meryte encreseth, and

make[th] thee ben more worthy, to hem that knowen of the soth;

by what thing thou art apeyred, that in so mokil thou art encresed

of thy beloved frendes. And sothly, a wounde of thy frende [is] to

thee lasse harm, ye, sir, and better than a fals kissing in disceyvable

glosing of thyne enemy; above that than, to be wel with thy

frende maketh [voyd] suche enfame. Ergo, thou art encresed

and not apeyred.'

'Lady,' quod I, 'somtyme yet, if a man be in disese, th'estimacion

of the envyous people ne loketh nothing to desertes of men,

ne to the merytes of their doinges, but only to the aventure of

fortune; and therafter they yeven their sentence. And some

loken the voluntary wil in his herte, and therafter telleth his

jugement; not taking hede to reson ne to the qualitè of the

doing; as thus. If a man be riche and fulfild with worldly

welfulnesse, some commenden it, and sayn it is so lent by juste

cause; and he that hath adversitè, they sayn he is weked; and

hath deserved thilke anoy. The contrarye of these thinges some

[26]

men holden also; and sayn that to the riche prosperitè is purvayed

in-to his confusion; and upon this mater many autoritès

of many and greet-witted clerkes they alegen. And some men

sayn, though al good estimacion forsake folk that han adversitè,

yet is it meryte and encrees of his blisse; so that these purposes

am so wonderful in understanding, that trewly, for myn adversitè

now, I not how the sentence of the indifferent people wil jugen

my fame.'

'Therfore,' quod she, 'if any wight shulde yeve a trewe sentence

on suche maters, the cause of the disese maist thou see

wel. Understand ther-upon after what ende it draweth, that is to

sayne, good or badde; so ought it to have his fame †by goodnesse

or enfame by badnesse. For [of] every resonable person, and

namely of a wyse man, his wit ought not, without reson to-forn

herd, sodainly in a mater to juge. After the sawes of the wyse,

"thou shalt not juge ne deme toforn thou knowe."'

'Lady,' quod I, 'ye remembre wel, that in moste laude and

praysing of certayne seyntes in holy churche, is to rehersen their

conuersion from badde in-to good; and that is so rehersed, as

by a perpetual mirrour of remembraunce, in worshippinge of

tho sayntes, and good ensample to other misdoers in amendement.

How turned the Romayne Zedeoreys fro the Romaynes,

to be with Hanibal ayenst his kynde nacion; and afterwardes,

him seming the Romayns to be at the next degrè of confusion,

turned to his olde alyes; by whose witte after was Hanibal

discomfited. Wherfore, to enfourme you, lady, the maner-why

I mene, see now. In my youth I was drawe to ben assentaunt

and (in my mightes) helping to certain conjuracions and other

grete maters of ruling of citizins; and thilke thinges ben my

drawers in; and ex[c]itours to tho maters wern so paynted and

coloured that (at the prime face) me semed them noble and

glorious to al the people. I than, wening mikel meryte have

deserved in furthering and mayntenaunce of tho thinges, besyed

and laboured, with al my diligence, in werkinge of thilke maters

to the ende. And trewly, lady, to telle you the sothe, me rought

litel of any hate of the mighty senatours in thilke citè, ne of

[27]

comunes malice; for two skilles. Oon was, I had comfort to ben

in suche plyte, that bothe profit were to me and to my frendes.

Another was, for commen profit in cominaltee is not but pees and

tranquilitè, with just governaunce, proceden from thilke profit;

sithen, by counsayle of myne inwitte, me thought the firste painted

thinges malice and yvel meninge, withouten any good avayling to

any people, and of tyrannye purposed. And so, for pure sorowe,

and of my medlinge and badde infame that I was in ronne, tho

[the] teres [that] lasshed out of myne eyen were thus awaye

wasshe, than the under-hidde malice and the rancour of purposing

envye, forncast and imagined in distruccion of mokil people,

shewed so openly, that, had I ben blind, with myne hondes al the

circumstaunce I might wel have feled.

Now than tho persones that suche thinges have cast to redresse,

for wrathe of my first medlinge, shopen me to dwelle in this pynande

prison, til Lachases my threed no lenger wolde twyne. And

ever I was sought, if me liste to have grace of my lyfe and

frenesse of that prison, I shulde openly confesse how pees might

ben enduced to enden al the firste rancours. It was fully

supposed my knowing to be ful in tho maters. Than, lady,

I thought that every man that, by any waye of right, rightfully

don, may helpe any comune †wele to ben saved; whiche thing to

kepe above al thinges I am holde to mayntayne, and namely in

distroying of a wrong; al shulde I therthrough enpeche myn

owne fere, if he were gilty and to do misdeed assentaunt. And

mayster ne frend may nought avayle to the soule of him that

in falsnesse deyeth; and also that I nere desyred wrathe of the

people ne indignacion of the worthy, for nothinge that ever I

wrought or did, in any doing my-selfe els, but in the mayntenaunce

of these foresayd errours and in hydinge of the privitees therof.

And that al the peoples hertes, holdinge on the errours syde,

weren blinde and of elde so ferforth begyled, that debat and

stryf they maynteyned, and in distruccion on that other syde;

by whiche cause the pees, that moste in comunaltee shulde be

desyred, was in poynte to be broken and adnulled. Also the citee

of London, that is to me so dere and swete, in whiche I was forth

[28]

growen; (and more kyndely love have I to that place than to any

100

other in erthe, as every kyndely creature hath ful appetyte to that

place of his kyndly engendrure, and to wilne reste and pees

in that stede to abyde); thilke pees shulde thus there have ben

broken, and of al wyse it is commended and desyred. For knowe

thing it is, al men that desyren to comen to the perfit pees

105

everlasting must the pees by god commended bothe mayntayne and

kepe. This pees by angels voyce was confirmed, our god entringe

in this worlde. This, as for his Testament, he lefte to al his

frendes, whanne he retourned to the place from whence he cam;

this his apostel amonesteth to holden, without whiche man perfitly

110

may have non insight. Also this god, by his coming, made not

pees alone betwene hevenly and erthly bodyes, but also amonge

us on erthe so he pees confirmed, that in one heed of love oon

body we shulde perfourme. Also I remembre me wel how the

name of Athenes was rather after the god of pees than of batayle,

115

shewinge that pees moste is necessarie to comunaltees and citees.

I than, so styred by al these wayes toforn nempned, declared

certayne poyntes in this wyse. Firste, that thilke persones

that hadden me drawen to their purposes, and me not weting the

privy entent of their meninge, drawen also the feeble-witted

120

people, that have non insight of gubernatif prudence, to clamure

and to crye on maters that they styred; and under poyntes for

comune avauntage they enbolded the passif to take in the

actives doinge; and also styred innocentes of conning to crye

after thinges, whiche (quod they) may not stande but we ben

125

executours of tho maters, and auctoritè of execucion by comen

eleccion to us be delivered. And that muste entre by strength of

your mayntenaunce. For we out of suche degree put, oppression

of these olde hindrers shal agayn surmounten, and putten you in

such subjeccion, that in endelesse wo ye shul complayne.

130

The governementes (quod they) of your citè, lefte in the handes

of torcencious citezins, shal bringe in pestilence and distruccion

to you, good men; and therfore let us have the comune administracion

to abate suche yvels. Also (quod they) it is worthy

the good to commende, and the gilty desertes to chastice. There

135

ben citezens many, for-ferde of execucion that shal be doon; for

[29]

extorcions by hem committed ben evermore ayenst these purposes

and al other good mevinges. Never-the-latter, lady, trewly the

meninge under these wordes was, fully to have apeched the

mighty senatoures, whiche hadden hevy herte for the misgovernaunce

140

that they seen. And so, lady, whan it fel that free

eleccion [was mad], by greet clamour of moche people, [that] for

greet disese of misgovernaunce so fervently stoden in her eleccion

that they hem submitted to every maner †fate rather than have

suffred the maner and the rule of the hated governours;

145

notwithstandinge that in the contrary helden moche comune meyny,

that have no consideracion but only to voluntary lustes withouten

reson. But than thilke governour so forsaken, fayninge to-forn

his undoinge for misrule in his tyme, shoop to have letted thilke

eleccion, and have made a newe, him-selfe to have ben chosen;

150

and under that, mokil rore [to] have arered. These thinges, lady,

knowen among the princes, and made open to the people,

draweth in amendement, that every degree shal ben ordayned to

stande there-as he shulde; and that of errours coming herafter

men may lightly to-forn-hand purvaye remedye; in this wyse pees

155

and rest to be furthered and holde. Of the whiche thinges, lady,

thilke persones broughten in answere to-forn their moste soverayne

juge, not coarted by payninge dures, openly knowlegeden, and

asked therof grace; so that apertly it preveth my wordes ben

sothe, without forginge of lesinges.

160

But now it greveth me to remembre these dyvers sentences, in

janglinge of these shepy people; certes, me thinketh, they oughten

to maken joye that a sothe may be knowe. For my trouthe and

my conscience ben witnesse to me bothe, that this (knowinge

sothe) have I sayd, for no harme ne malice of tho persones, but

165

only for trouthe of my sacrament in my ligeaunce, by whiche

I was charged on my kinges behalfe. But see ye not now, lady,

how the felonous thoughtes of this people and covins of wicked

men conspyren ayen my sothfast trouth! See ye not every wight

that to these erroneous opinions were assentaunt, and helpes to

170

the noyse, and knewen al these thinges better than I my-selven,

apparaylen to fynden newe frendes, and clepen me fals, and

[30]

studyen how they mowen in her mouthes werse plyte nempne?

O god, what may this be, that thilke folk whiche that in tyme of

my mayntenaunce, and whan my might avayled to strecche to

175

the forsayd maters, tho me commended, and yave me name of

trouth, in so manyfolde maners that it was nyghe in every

wightes eere, there-as any of thilke people weren; and on the

other syde, thilke company somtyme passed, yevinge me name

of badde loos: now bothe tho peoples turned the good in-to

180

badde, and badde in-to good? Whiche thing is wonder, that

they knowing me saying but sothe, arn now tempted to reply her

olde praysinges; and knowen me wel in al doinges to ben trewe,

and sayn openly that I false have sayd many thinges! And they

aleged nothing me to ben false or untrewe, save thilke mater

185

knowleged by the parties hem-selfe; and god wot, other mater

is non. Ye also, lady, knowe these thinges for trewe; I avaunte

not in praysing of my-selfe; therby shulde I lese the precious

secrè of my conscience. But ye see wel that false opinion of the

people for my trouthe, in telling out of false conspyred maters;

190

and after the jugement of these clerkes, I shulde not hyde the

sothe of no maner person, mayster ne other. Wherfore I wolde

not drede, were it put in the consideracion of trewe and of wyse.

And for comers hereafter shullen fully, out of denwere, al the

sothe knowe of these thinges in acte, but as they wern, I have

195

put it in scripture, in perpetuel remembraunce of true meninge.

For trewly, lady, me semeth that I ought to bere the name of

trouthe, that for the love of rightwysnesse have thus me †submitted.

But now than the false fame, which that (clerkes sayn)

flyeth as faste as doth the fame of trouthe, shal so wyde sprede

200

til it be brought to the jewel that I of mene; and so shal I ben

hindred, withouten any mesure of trouthe.'

Ch. VI. 2. great. beare. 3. read enfame; see l. 6. one. obiections. 7. Nowe. leasynges put on the. 8. wronge. 9. se. encreaseth. 10. the. 11. arte encreased. 12. I supply is. 13. the. harme. false. 15. I supply voyd. arte. 17. disease. 22. reason. 23. fulfylde. 24. sayne. lente. 25. sayne. weaked; read wikked? 26. anoye.

27. sayne. 29. great. 30. forsaken; read forsake. 31. encrease. 32. arne. 33. nowe. howe. 36. disease. se. 37. vnderstande. 38. fame or by goodnesse enfame; read fame by goodnesse or enfame. 39. Supply of. reasonable. 40. wytte. reason to-forne. 41. herde. 42. toforne. 45. conuercion. 48. Howe. zedeoreys or ȝedeoreys. 53. meane se nowe. 55. great. 56. exitours. werne. 61. tel.

63. One. comforte. 64. profyte. 65. profyte. comynaltie. peace. 66. profyte. 68. meanynge. 71. I supply the and that. 72. rancoure. 73. fornecaste. distruction. 74. blynde. 76. Nowe. caste. 77. dwel. 78. threde. 80. howe peace. 81. endused. 84. done. maye. helpe (repeated after comen); read wele. thynge. 86. distroyeng. 87. misdede. 88. frende maye. 94. -forthe. debate. 95. stryfe. distruction. 96. peace. comunaltie. 97. cytie. 98. forthe.

101-6. peace (five times). 104. thynge. perfyte. 107. left. 108. came. 109. perfytely. 110. none. 111-2. peace (twice). 112. one (twice). 113. howe. 114-5. peace (twice). 115. comunalties and cytes. 116. toforne. 119. meanynge. feoble. 120. none. gubernatyfe. 122. passyfe. 126. election. 128. agayne. 129. subiection. 131. distruction. 135. doone.

138. meanynge. 139. heauy. 141. election. Supply was mad. great (twice). Supply that. 142. disease. election. 143. face; read fate. 146. onely. 147. reason. to-forne. 148. shope. 149. electyon. 151. amonge. 154. to forne hande. peace. 156. to forne. 158. apertely. 159. leasynges. 160. nowe. 162. maye. 164. sayde. 165. onely. leigeaunce. 166. se. nowe. 168. Se. 171. cleapen. false.

172. howe. 173. maye. folke. 174. stretch. 179. Nowe. 181. knowyuge (sic). sayng. arne nowe. 183. sayne. 184. nothynge. 185. wote. 186. none. 188. se. 194. werne. 195. meanynge. 196. beare. 197. submytten (!). 198. nowe. sayne. 199. dothe. 200. meane. 201. measure.

CHAPTER VII.

Than gan Love sadly me beholde, and sayd in a changed

voyce, lower than she had spoken in any tyme: 'Fayn

wolde I,' quod she, 'that thou were holpen; but hast thou sayd

any-thing whiche thou might not proven?'

'Pardè,' quod I, 'the persones, every thing as I have sayd, han

knowleged hem-selfe.'

'Ye,' quod she, 'but what if they hadden nayed? How

woldest thou have maynteyned it?'

'Sothely,' quod I, 'it is wel wist, bothe amonges the greetest

and other of the realme, that I profered my body so largely in-to

provinge of tho thinges, that Mars shulde have juged the ende;

but, for sothnesse of my wordes, they durste not to thilke juge

truste.'

'Now, certes,' quod she, 'above al fames in this worlde, the

name of marcial doinges most plesen to ladyes of my lore; but

sithen thou were redy, and thyne adversaryes in thy presence

refused thilke doing; thy fame ought to be so born as if in dede

it had take to the ende. And therfore every wight that any

droppe of reson hath, and hereth of thee infame for these thinges,

hath this answere to saye: "trewly thou saydest; for thyne

adversaryes thy wordes affirmed." And if thou haddest lyed, yet

are they discomfited, the prise leved on thy syde; so that fame

shal holde down infame; he shal bringe [it in] upon none

halfe. What greveth thee thyne enemye[s] to sayn their owne

shame, as thus: "we arn discomfited, and yet our quarel is

trewe?" Shal not the loos of thy frendes ayenward dequace thilke

enfame, and saye they graunted a sothe without a stroke or fighting?

Many men in batayle ben discomfited and overcome in

a rightful quarel, that is goddes privy jugement in heven; but

yet, although the party be yolden, he may with wordes saye his

quarel is trewe, and to yelde him, in the contrarye, for drede of

dethe he is compelled; and he that graunteth and no stroke hath

feled, he may not crepe away in this wyse by none excusacion.

[32]

Indifferent folk wil say: "ye, who is trewe, who is fals, him-selfe

knowlegeth tho thinges." Thus in every syde fame sheweth to

thee good and no badde.'

'But yet,' quod I, 'some wil say, I ne shulde, for no dethe,

have discovered my maistresse; and so by unkyndnesse they

wol knette infame, to pursue me aboute. Thus enemyes of wil,

in manyfolde maner, wol seche privy serpentynes queintyses, to

quenche and distroye, by venim of many besinesses, the light of

tr[o]uthe; to make hertes to murmure ayenst my persone, to have

me in hayne withouten any cause.'

'Now,' quod she, 'here me a fewe wordes, and thou shalt fully

ben answered, I trowe. Me thinketh (quod she) right now, by

thy wordes, that sacrament of swering, that is to say, charging by

othe, was oon of the causes to make thee discover the malicious

imaginacions tofore nempned. Every ooth, by knittinge of copulation,

muste have these lawes, that is, trewe jugement and rightwysenesse;

in whiche thinge if any of these lacke, the ooth is

y-tourned in-to the name of perjury. Than to make a trewe

serment, most nedes these thinges folowe. For ofte tymes, a man

to saye sothe, but jugement and justice folowe, he is forsworn;

ensample of Herodes, for holdinge of his serment was [he]

dampned.

Also, to saye tr[o]uthe rightfulliche (but in jugement) otherwhile

is forboden, by that al sothes be nat to sayne. Therfore in

jugement, in tr[o]uthe, and rightwisenesse, is every creature

bounden, up payne of perjury, ful knowing to make, tho[ugh] it

were of his owne persone, for drede of sinne; after that worde,

"better is it to dey than live false." And, al wolde perverted people

fals report make in unkyndnesse, in that entent thy [en]fame to

reyse, whan light of tr[o]uthe in these maters is forth sprongen

and openly publisshed among commens, than shal nat suche

derke enfame dare appere, for pure shame of his falsnesse. As some

men ther ben that their owne enfame can none otherwyse voide

or els excuse, but †by hindringe of other mennes fame; which

that by non other cause clepen other men false, but for [that]

with their owne falsnesse mowen they nat ben avaunsed; or els

by false sklaund[r]inge wordes other men shenden, their owne

[33]

trewe sklaunder to make seme the lasse. For if such men wolden

their eyen of their conscience revolven, [they] shulden seen the

same sentence they legen on other springe out of their sydes, with

so many braunches, it were impossible to nombre. To whiche

therefore may it be sayd in that thinge, "this man thou demest,

therein thy-selfe thou condempnest."

But (quod she) understand nat by these wordes, that thou

wene me saye thee to be worthy sclaunder, for any mater tofore

written; truely I wolde witnesse the contrary; but I saye that

the bemes of sclaundring wordes may not be don awaye til the

daye of dome. For how shulde it nat yet, amonges so greet

plentee of people, ben many shrewes, sithen whan no mo but

eight persons in Noes shippe were closed, yet oon was a shrewe

and skorned his father? These thinges (quod she) I trowe, shewen

that fals fame is nat to drede, ne of wyse persons to accepte, and

namely nat of thy Margarite, whose wysdom here-after I thinke to

declare; wherfore I wot wel suche thing shal nat her asterte;

than of unkyndnesse thyn ooth hath thee excused at the fulle.

But now, if thou woldest nat greve, me list a fewe thinges to

shewe.'

'Say on,' quod I, 'what ye wol; I trowe ye mene but trouthe

and my profit in tyme cominge.'

'Trewly,' quod she, 'that is sothe, so thou con wel kepe these

wordes, and in the in[ne]rest secrè chambre of thyne herte so

faste hem close that they never flitte; than shalt thou fynde hem

avayling. Loke now what people hast thou served; whiche of

hem al in tyme of thyne exile ever thee refresshed, by the valewe

of the leste coyned plate that walketh in money? Who was sory,

or made any rewth for thy disese? If they hadden getten their

100

purpose, of thy misaventure sette they nat an hawe. Lo, whan

thou were emprisonned, how faste they hyed in helpe of thy

deliveraunce! I wene of thy dethe they yeve but lyte. They

loked after no-thing but after their owne lustes. And if thou liste

say the sothe, al that meyny that in this †brige thee broughten,

105

lokeden rather after thyne helpes than thee to have releved.

Owen nat yet some of hem money for his commens? Paydest

[34]

nat thou for some of her dispences, til they were tourned out of

Selande? Who yave thee ever ought for any rydinge thou madest?

Yet, pardè, some of hem token money for thy chambre, and

110

putte tho pens in his purse, unwetinge of the renter.

Lo for which a company thou medlest, that neither thee ne

them-selfe mighten helpe of unkyndnesse; now they bere the

name that thou supposest of hem for to have. What might thou

more have don than thou diddest, but-if thou woldest in a fals

115

quarel have been a stinkinge martyr? I wene thou fleddest, as

longe as thou might, their privitè to counsayle; which thing thou

hele[de]st lenger than thou shuldest. And thilke that ought thee

money no penny wolde paye; they wende thy returne hadde ben

an impossible. How might thou better have hem proved, but thus

120

in thy nedy diseses? Now hast thou ensaumple for whom thou

shalt meddle; trewly, this lore is worth many goodes.'

Ch. VII. 2. Fayne. 3. haste. 4. -thynge. 7. Yea. Howe. 9. wyste. amongest. greatest. 14. Nowe. 15. moste pleasen. 17. borne. 19. reason. the. 22. leaued. 23. Supply it in. 24. the. enemye (sic). sayne. 25. arne. 30. partie. 33. maye.

34. folke. false. 36. the. 44. Nowe. shalte. 45. answerde. nowe. 46. swearyng. 47. one. the. 48. othe. copulation. 50. othe. 53. forsworne. 54. Supply he. 61. false. 62. reporte. 63. forthe. 67. be; for by. 68. cleapen. Supply that. 70. sklaundynge. shendyn.

72. I supply they. sene. 73. legen [for aleggen]. 75. maye. 77. vnderstande. 78. the. 80. beames. done. 81. howe. great. 82. plentie. 83. one. 85. false. 86. wysedom. 87. wotte. thynge. 88. thyne othe. the. 89. nowe. 91. meane. 92. profyte. 94. inrest. 95. shalte. 96. nowe. haste. 97. the. 98. sorye. 99. disease. 101. howe. 103. -thynge. 104. brigge; read brige. 104, 105. the.

108. the. 109. pardye. 111. the. 112. now. beare. 114. done. false. 117. helest; read heledest. the. 119. Howe. 120. diseases. Nowe haste. 121. shalte. worthe.

CHAPTER VIII.

†Eft gan Love to †steren me [with] these wordes: 'thinke

on my speche; for trewly here-after it wol do thee lykinge;

and how-so-ever thou see Fortune shape her wheele to tourne,

this meditacion [shal] by no waye revolve. For certes, Fortune

sheweth her fayrest, whan she thinketh to begyle. And as me

thought, here-toforn thou saydest, thy loos in love, for thy

rightwysenesse ought to be raysed, shulde be a-lowed in tyme cominge.

Thou might in love so thee have, that loos and fame shul so ben

raysed, that to thy frendes comfort, and sorowe to thyne enemys,

endlesse shul endure.

But if thou were the oon sheep, amonges the hundred, were lost

in deserte and out of the way hadde erred, and now to the flocke

art restoored, the shepherd hath in thee no joye and thou ayen

to the forrest tourne. But that right as the sorowe and anguisshe

was greet in tyme of thyne out-waye goinge, right so

joye and gladnesse shal be doubled to sene thee converted; and

[35]

nat as Lothes wyf ayen-lokinge, but [in] hool counsayle with the

shepe folowinge, and with them grasse and herbes gadre. Never-the-later

(quod she) I saye nat these thinges for no wantrust that

I have in supposinge of thee otherwyse than I shulde. For

trewly, I wot wel that now thou art set in suche a purpose, out of

whiche thee liste nat to parte. But I saye it for many men there

been, that to knowinge of other mennes doinges setten al their

cure, and lightly desyren the badde to clatter rather than the

good, and have no wil their owne maner to amende. They also

hate of olde rancours lightly haven; and there that suche thing

abydeth, sodaynly in their mouthes procedeth the habundaunce

of the herte, and wordes as stones out-throwe. Wherfore my

counsayl is ever-more openly and apertly, in what place thou sitte,

counterplete th'errours and meninges in as fer as thou hem

wistest false, and leve for no wight to make hem be knowe in

every bodyes ere; and be alway pacient and use Jacobes wordes,

what-so-ever men of thee clappen: "I shal sustayne my ladyes

wrathe which I have deserved, so longe as my Margarite hath

rightwysed my cause." And certes (quod she) I witnesse my-selfe,

if thou, thus converted, sorowest in good meninge in thyne herte,

[and] wolt from al vanitè parfitly departe, in consolacioun of al

good plesaunce of that Margaryte, whiche that thou desyrest after

wil of thyn herte, in a maner of a †moders pitè, [she] shul fully

accepte thee in-to grace. For right as thou rentest clothes in

open sighte, so openly to sowe hem at his worshippe withouten

reprofe [is] commended. Also, right as thou were ensample of

moche-folde errour, right so thou must be ensample of manyfolde

correccioun; so good savour to forgoing †of errour causeth diligent

love, with many playted praisinges to folowe; and than shal al

the firste errours make the folowinge worshippes to seme hugely

encresed. Blacke and white, set togider, every for other more

semeth; and so doth every thinges contrary in kynde. But

infame, that goth alwaye tofore, and praysinge worship by any

cause folowinge after, maketh to ryse the ilke honour in double

of welth; and that quencheth the spotte of the first enfame. Why

[36]

wenest, I saye, these thinges in hindringe of thy name? Nay,

nay, god wot, but for pure encresing worship, thy rightwysenesse to

commende, and thy trouthe to seme the more. Wost nat wel

thy-selfe, that thou in fourme of making †passest nat Adam that eet

of the apple? Thou †passest nat the stedfastnesse of Noe, that

eetinge of the grape becom dronke. Thou passest nat the

chastitè of Lothe, that lay by his doughter; eke the nobley of

Abraham, whom god reproved by his pryde; also Davides

mekenesse, whiche for a woman made Urye be slawe. What?

also Hector of Troye, in whom no defaute might be founde, yet

is he reproved that he ne hadde with manhode nat suffred the

warre begonne, ne Paris to have went in-to Grece, by whom gan

al the sorowe. For trewly, him lacketh no venim of privè

consenting, whiche that openly leveth a wrong to withsaye.

Lo eke an olde proverbe amonges many other: "He that is

stille semeth as he graunted."

Now by these ensamples thou might fully understonde, that

these thinges ben writte to your lerning, and in rightwysenesse of

tho persones, as thus: To every wight his defaute committed

made goodnesse afterwardes don be the more in reverence and in

open shewing; for ensample, is it nat songe in holy churche,

"Lo, how necessary was Adams synne!" David the king gat

Salomon the king of her that was Uryes wyf. Truly, for reprofe

is non of these thinges writte. Right so, tho I reherce thy

before-dede, I repreve thee never the more; ne for no villany of

thee are they rehersed, but for worshippe, so thou continewe wel

here-after: and for profit of thy-selfe I rede thou on hem thinke.'

Than sayde I right thus: 'Lady of unitè and accorde, envy

and wrathe lurken there thou comest in place; ye weten wel

your-selve, and so don many other, that whyle I administred the

office of commen doinge, as in rulinge of the stablisshmentes

amonges the people, I defouled never my conscience for no

maner dede; but ever, by witte and by counsayle of the wysest,

the maters weren drawen to their right endes. And thus trewly

for you, lady, I have desyred suche cure; and certes, in your

service was I nat ydel, as fer as suche doinge of my cure

streccheth.'

[37]

'That is a thing,' quod she, 'that may drawe many hertes of

noble, and voice of commune in-to glory; and fame is nat but

wrecched and fickle. Alas! that mankynde coveyteth in so leude

a wyse to be rewarded of any good dede, sithe glorie of fame, in

this worlde, is nat but hindringe of glorie in tyme comminge!

And certes (quod she) yet at the hardest suche fame, in-to heven,

is nat the erthe but a centre to the cercle of heven? A pricke is

wonder litel in respect of al the cercle; and yet, in al this pricke,

may no name be born, in maner of peersing, for many obstacles,

as waters, and wildernesse, and straunge langages. And nat only

names of men ben stilled and holden out of knowleginge by these

100

obstacles, but also citees and realmes of prosperitè ben letted to

be knowe, and their reson hindred; so that they mowe nat ben

parfitly in mennes propre understandinge. How shulde than the

name of a singuler Londenoys passe the glorious name of London,

whiche by many it is commended, and by many it is lacked, and

105

in many mo places in erthe nat knowen than knowen? For in

many countrees litel is London in knowing or in spech; and yet

among oon maner of people may nat such fame in goodnes

come; for as many as praysen, commenly as many lacken. Fy

than on such maner fame! Slepe, and suffre him that knoweth

110

previtè of hertes to dele suche fame in thilke place there nothing

ayenst a sothe shal neither speke ne dare apere, by attourney

ne by other maner. How many greet-named, and many greet

in worthinesse losed, han be tofore this tyme, that now out

of memorie are slidden, and clenely forgeten, for defaute of

115

wrytinges! And yet scriptures for greet elde so ben defased, that

no perpetualtè may in hem ben juged. But if thou wolt make

comparisoun to ever, what joye mayst thou have in erthly name?

It is a fayr lykenesse, a pees or oon grayn of whete, to a thousand

shippes ful of corne charged! What nombre is betwene the

120

oon and th'other? And yet mowe bothe they be nombred, and

ende in rekening have. But trewly, al that may be nombred is

nothing to recken, as to thilke that may nat be nombred. For

†of the thinges ended is mad comparison; as, oon litel, another

greet; but in thinges to have an ende, and another no ende,

125

suche comparisoun may nat be founden. Wherfore in heven to

[38]

ben losed with god hath non ende, but endlesse endureth; and

thou canst nothing don aright, but thou desyre the rumour therof

be heled and in every wightes ere; and that dureth but a pricke

in respecte of the other. And so thou sekest reward of folkes

130

smale wordes, and of vayne praysinges. Trewly, therin thou

lesest the guerdon of vertue; and lesest the grettest valour of

conscience, and uphap thy renomè everlasting. Therfore boldely

renomè of fame of the erthe shulde be hated, and fame after deth

shulde be desyred of werkes of vertue. [Trewly, vertue] asketh

135

guerdoning, and the soule causeth al vertue. Than the soule,

delivered out of prison of erthe, is most worthy suche guerdon

among to have in the everlastinge fame; and nat the body, that

causeth al mannes yvels.

Ch. VIII. 1. Ofte; read Eft. sterne; read steren. I supply with. 2. the. 3. howe. se. 4. meditation. I supply shal. 6. toforne. 8. the. 9. comforte. 11. one shepe. 12. loste. nowe. 13. arte. shepeherd. the. 15. great. 16. the.

17. wyfe. I supply in. hoole. 20. the. 21. wotte. nowe. arte sette. 22. the. 23. bene. 26. thynge. 28. stones repeated in Th. 29. counsayle. apertely. 30. therrours. meanynges. ferre. 31. wystyst. leaue. 32. eare. 33. menne. the. 36. meanynge. 37. I supply and. wolte. parfytely. 37. consolatyoun. 38. pleasaunce. 39. hert. mothers; read moders. I supply she. 40. the. 42. I supply is. 44. correctioun. al; read of. After errour I omit distroyeng (gloss upon forgoing). 47. encreased. sette. 48. dothe. 49. gothe. worshippe.

52. wenyste. Naye nay god wotte. 53. encreasyng. 55-7. passeth (twice); passyst (third time). ete. 57. eatynge. become. 61. whome. 63. begon. ganne. 65. leaueth. wronge. withsay. 68. Nowe. 71. done. 72. song. 73. howe. gate. 74. wyfe. 75. none. 76-7. the (twice). 78. profyte. 81. done. 87. ferre. 88. stretcheth.

91. wretched. 96. respecte. 97. borne. 98. onely. 101. reason. 102. parfitely. Howe. 107. one. 108. Fye. 110. nothynge. 112. Howe. great (twice). 113. nowe. 115. great. 116. maye. wolte. 118. fayre. one grayne of wheate. thousande. 120. one. thother. 121-2. maye. 123. ofte; read of the. made. one. 124. great.

126. none. 127. canste nothynge done. rumoure. 128. healed; read deled? eare. 129. rewarde. 131. valoure. consyence. 134. Supply Trewly, vertue. 136. prisone. guerdone.

CHAPTER IX.

Of twey thinges art thou answered, as me thinketh (quod

Love); and if any thing be in doute in thy soule, shewe

it forth, thyn ignoraunce to clere, and leve it for no shame.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'there is no body in this worlde, that aught

coude saye by reson ayenst any of your skilles, as I leve; and by

my witte now fele I wel, that yvel-spekers or berers of enfame

may litel greve or lette my purpos, but rather by suche thinge my

quarel to be forthered.'

'Ye,' quod she,'and it is proved also, that the ilke jewel in

my kepinge shal nat there-thorow be stered, of the lest moment

that might be imagined.'

'That is soth,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'than †leveth there, to declare that thy

insuffisance is no maner letting, as thus: for that she is so worthy,

thou shuldest not clymbe so highe; for thy moebles and thyn

estate arn voyded, thou thinkest [thee] fallen in suche miserie,

that gladnesse of thy pursute wol nat on thee discende.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'that is sothe; right suche thought is in myn

herte; for commenly it is spoken, and for an olde proverbe it is

[39]

leged: "He that heweth to hye, with chippes he may lese

his sight." Wherfore I have ben about, in al that ever I might,

to studye wayes of remedye by one syde or by another.'

'Now,' quod she, 'god forbede †that thou seke any other

doinges but suche as I have lerned thee in our restinge-whyles,

and suche herbes as ben planted in oure gardins. Thou shalt

wel understande that above man is but oon god alone.'

'How,' quod I, 'han men to-forn this tyme trusted in writtes

and chauntements, and in helpes of spirites that dwellen in the

ayre, and therby they han getten their desyres, where-as first, for

al his manly power, he daunced behynde?'

'O,' quod she, 'fy on suche maters! For trewly, that is

sacrilege; and that shal have no sort with any of my servauntes;

in myne eyen shal suche thing nat be loked after. How often is

it commaunded by these passed wyse, that "to one god shal men

serve, and not to goddes?" And who that liste to have myne

helpes, shal aske none helpe of foule spirites. Alas! is nat man

maked semblable to god? Wost thou nat wel, that al vertue of

lyvelich werkinge, by goddes purveyaunce, is underput to resonable

creature in erthe? Is nat every thing, a this halfe god, mad

buxom to mannes contemplation, understandinge in heven and

in erthe and in helle? Hath not man beinge with stones, soule of

wexing with trees and herbes? Hath he nat soule of felinge, with

beestes, fisshes, and foules? And he hath soule of reson and

understanding with aungels; so that in him is knit al maner

of lyvinges by a resonable proporcioun. Also man is mad of

al the foure elementes. Al universitee is rekened in him alone;

he hath, under god, principalitè above al thinges. Now is his

soule here, now a thousand myle hence; now fer, now nygh;

now hye, now lowe; as fer in a moment as in mountenaunce of

ten winter; and al this is in mannes governaunce and disposicion.

Than sheweth it that men ben liche unto goddes, and children of

moost heyght. But now, sithen al thinges [arn] underput to the

wil of resonable creatures, god forbede any man to winne that

lordship, and aske helpe of any-thing lower than him-selfe; and than,

namely, of foule thinges innominable. Now than, why shuldest

[40]

thou wene to love to highe, sithen nothing is thee above but god

alone? Trewly, I wot wel that thilke jewel is in a maner even in

lyne of degree there thou art thy-selfe, and nought above, save

thus: aungel upon angel, man upon man, and devil upon devil

han a maner of soveraigntee; and that shal cese at the daye

of dome. And so I say: though thou be put to serve the

ilke jewel duringe thy lyfe, yet is that no servage of

underputtinge, but a maner of travayling plesaunce, to conquere and

gette that thou hast not. I sette now the hardest: in my service

now thou deydest, for sorowe of wantinge in thy desyres; trewly,

al hevenly bodyes with one voyce shul come and make melody in

thy cominge, and saye—"Welcome, our fere, and worthy to entre

into Jupiters joye! For thou with might hast overcome deth;

thou woldest never flitte out of thy service; and we al shul

now praye to the goddes, rowe by rowe, to make thilk Margarite,

that no routh had in this persone, but unkyndely without comfort

let thee deye, shal besette her-selfe in suche wyse, that in erthe,

for parte of vengeaunce, shal she no joye have in loves service;

and whan she is deed, than shal her soule ben brought up in-to

thy presence; and whider thou wilt chese, thilke soule shal ben

committed." Or els, after thy deth, anon al the foresayd hevenly

bodyes, by one accorde, shal †benimen from thilke perle al the

vertues that firste her were taken; for she hath hem forfeyted

by that on thee, my servaunt, in thy lyve, she wolde not suffre

to worche al vertues, withdrawen by might of the hygh bodyes.

Why than shuldest thou wene so any more? And if thee liste

to loke upon the lawe of kynde, and with order whiche to me

was ordayned, sothely, non age, non overtourninge tyme but

†hiderto had no tyme ne power to chaunge the wedding, ne

the knotte to unbynde of two hertes [that] thorow oon assent, in

my presence, †togider accorden to enduren til deth hem departe.

What? trowest thou, every ideot wot the meninge and the privy

entent of these thinges? They wene, forsothe, that suche accord

may not be, but the rose of maydenhede be plucked. Do way,

do way; they knowe nothing of this. For consent of two hertes

[41]

alone maketh the fasteninge of the knotte; neither lawe of kynde

ne mannes lawe determineth neither the age ne the qualitè of

persones, but only accord bitwene thilke twaye. And trewly,

after tyme that suche accord, by their consent in hert, is enseled,

and put in my tresorye amonges my privy thinges, than ginneth

the name of spousayle; and although they breken forward bothe,

yet suche mater enseled is kept in remembrance for ever. And

see now that spouses have the name anon after accord, though

the rose be not take. The aungel bad Joseph take Marye his

100

spouse, and to Egypte wende. Lo! she was cleped "spouse,"

and yet, toforn ne after, neither of hem bothe mente no flesshly

lust knowe. Wherfore the wordes of trouthe acorden that my

servauntes shulden forsake bothe †fader and moder, and be adherand

to his spouse; and they two in unitè of one flesshe

105

shulden accorde. And this wyse, two that wern firste in a litel

maner discordaunt, hygher that oon and lower that other, ben

mad evenliche in gree to stonde. But now to enfourme thee

that ye ben liche to goddes, these clerkes sayn, and in determinacion

shewen, that "three thinges haven [by] the names

110

of goddes ben cleped; that is to sayn: man, divel, and images";

but yet is there but oon god, of whom al goodnesse, al grace, and

al vertue cometh; and he †is loving and trewe, and everlasting,

and pryme cause of al being thinges. But men ben goddes

lovinge and trewe, but not everlasting; and that is by adopcioun

115

of the everlastinge god. Divels ben goddes, stirringe by

a maner of lyving; but neither ben they trewe ne everlastinge;

and their name of godliheed th[e]y han by usurpacion, as the

prophete sayth: "Al goddes of gentyles (that is to say, paynims)

are divels." But images ben goddes by nuncupacion; and they

120

ben neither livinge ne trewe, ne everlastinge. After these wordes

they clepen "goddes" images wrought with mennes handes.

But now [art thou a] resonable creature, that by adopcion alone

art to the grete god everlastinge, and therby thou art "god"

cleped: let thy †faders maners so entre thy wittes that thou might

125

folowe, in-as-moche as longeth to thee, thy †faders worship, so

[42]

that in nothinge thy kynde from his wil declyne, ne from his

nobley perverte. In this wyse if thou werche, thou art above

al other thinges save god alone; and so say no more "thyn herte

to serve in to hye a place."

Ch. IX. 1. arte. 2. thynge. 3. thyne. leaue. 5. reason. 6. nowe. bearers. 7. purpose. 9. Yea. 10. -thorowe. steered. 13. leneth; read leueth. 15. thyne. 16. arne. I supply thee. 17. the. 18. myne hert.

20. maye. 23. Nowe. are; read that. 24. the. 25. shalte. 26. one. 27. Howe. to forne. 31. fye. 38. vnderputte. 39. thynge. made. 40. buxome. 41. manne. 43. reason. 44. knytte. 45. lyuenges. reasonable. made. 47. Nowe. 48. nowe. nowe ferre nowe. thousande. 49. nowe (twice). ferre. momente. 50. tenne. disposytion. 52. nowe. I supply arn. vnderputte. 53. reasonable. 54. lordshippe. thynge.

56. nothynge. the. 57. wote. euyn. 58. arte. 59. manne (twice). 60. soueraygntie. cease. 61. thoughe putte. 64. haste. 64-5. nowe. 68. haste. dethe. 70. nowe pray. 71. For in read on? comforte. 72. lette the. 75. wylte. 76. dethe anone. 77. benommen; read benimen. 79. the. 81. the. 83. none (twice). 84. hytherto. 85. Supply that. thorowe one. 86. togyther. dethe. 87. ydeot wotte. 88. accorde. 89. waye (twice). 90. consente.

93. onely. 93-4. accorde. 94. ensealed. 96. breaken forwarde. 97. ensealed. kepte. 98. se nowe. accorde. 99. bade. 101. toforne. 102. luste. 103. father and mother; rather, fader and moder. adherande. 105. werne. 106. one. 107. made. nowe. the. 108. sayne. 109. thre. I supply by. 110. cleaped. 111. one. 112. his; read is. 116. lyueng. 117. thy; read they. 118. saythe. 121. cleapen. 122. nowe. I supply art thou a. reasonable. 123. arte (twice). great. 124. lette. 124-5. fathers; read faders. 125. the. worshyppe.

CHAPTER X.

Fully have I now declared thyn estate to be good, so thou

folow therafter, and that the †objeccion first †by thee

aleged, in worthinesse of thy Margaryte, shal not thee lette, as

it shal forther thee, and encrese thee. It is now to declare, the

last objeccion in nothing may greve.'

'Yes, certes,' quod I, 'bothe greve and lette muste it nedes;

the contrarye may not ben proved; and see now why. Whyle

I was glorious in worldly welfulnesse, and had suche goodes in

welth as maken men riche, tho was I drawe in-to companyes

that loos, prise, and name yeven. Tho louteden blasours; tho

curreyden glosours; tho welcomeden flatterers; tho worshipped

thilke that now deynen nat to loke. Every wight, in such erthly

wele habundant, is holde noble, precious, benigne, and wyse to

do what he shal, in any degree that men him sette; al-be-it that

the sothe be in the contrarye of al tho thinges. But he that can

never so wel him behave, and hath vertue habundaunt in manyfolde

maners, and be nat welthed with suche erthly goodes, is holde

for a foole, and sayd, his wit is but sotted. Lo! how fals for

aver is holde trewe! Lo! how trewe is cleped fals for wanting

of goodes! Also, lady, dignitees of office maken men mikel

comended, as thus: "he is so good, were he out, his pere shulde

men not fynde." Trewly, I trowe of some suche that are so

praysed, were they out ones, another shulde make him so be

knowe, he shulde of no wyse no more ben loked after: but only

fooles, wel I wot, desyren suche newe thinges. Wherfore I wonder

that thilke governour, out of whom alone the causes proceden

that governen al thinges, whiche that hath ordeyned this world

in workes of the kyndely bodyes so be governed, not with

[43]

unstedfast or happyous thing, but with rules of reson, whiche

shewen the course of certayne thinges: why suffreth he suche

slydinge chaunges, that misturnen suche noble thinges as ben we

men, that arn a fayr parcel of the erthe, and holden the upperest

degree, under god, of benigne thinges, as ye sayden right now

your-selfe; shulde never man have ben set in so worthy a place

but-if his degrè were ordayned noble. Alas! thou that knittest

the purveyaunce of al thinges, why lokest thou not to amenden

these defautes? I see shrewes that han wicked maners sitten in

chayres of domes, lambes to punisshen, there wolves shulden ben

punisshed. Lo! vertue, shynende naturelly, for povertee lurketh,

and is hid under cloude; but the moone false, forsworn (as

I knowe my-selfe) for aver and yeftes, hath usurped to shyne by

day-light, with peynture of other mens praysinges; and trewly,

thilke forged light fouly shulde fade, were the trouth away of

colours feyned. Thus is night turned in-to day, and day in-to

night; winter in-to sommer, and sommer in-to winter; not in

dede, but in misclepinge of foliche people.'

'Now,' quod she, 'what wenest thou of these thinges? How

felest thou in thyn hert, by what governaunce that this cometh

aboute?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'that wot I never; but-if it be that Fortune

hath graunt from above, to lede the ende of man as her lyketh.'

'Ah! now I see,' quod she, 'th'entent of thy mening! Lo,

bycause thy worldly goodes ben fulliche dispent, thou beraft out

of dignitè of office, in whiche thou madest the †gaderinge of thilke

goodes, and yet diddest in that office by counsaile of wyse [before

that] any thing were ended; and true were unto hem whos profit

thou shuldest loke; and seest now many that in thilke hervest

made of thee mokel, and now, for glosing of other, deyneth thee

nought to forther, but enhaunsen false shrewes by witnessinge of

trouthe! These thinges greveth thyn herte, to sene thy-selfe thus

abated; and than, frayltè of mankynde ne setteth but litel by the

lesers of suche richesse, have he never so moche vertue; and so

thou wenest of thy jewel to renne in dispyt, and not ben accepted

in-to grace. Al this shal thee nothing hinder. Now (quod she)

first thou wost wel, thou lostest nothing that ever mightest thou

[44]

chalenge for thyn owne. Whan nature brought thee forth, come

thou not naked out of thy †moders wombe? Thou haddest no

richesse; and whan thou shalt entre in-to the ende of every

flesshly body, what shalt thou have with thee than? So, every

richesse thou hast in tyme of thy livinge, nis but lent; thou

might therin chalenge no propertee. And see now; every thing

that is a mannes own, he may do therwith what him lyketh, to

yeve or to kepe; bul richesse thou playnest from thee lost; if thy

might had strecched so ferforth, fayn thou woldest have hem kept,

multiplyed with mo other; and so, ayenst thy wil, ben they departed

from thee; wherfore they were never thyn. And if thou laudest

and joyest any wight, for he is stuffed with suche maner richesse,

thou art in that beleve begyled; for thou wenest thilke joye to be

selinesse or els ese; and he that hath lost suche happes to ben

unsely.'

'Ye, forsoth,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'than wol I prove that unsely in that wise is

to preise; and so the tother is, the contrary, to be lacked.'

'How so?' quod I.

'For Unsely,' quod she, 'begyleth nat, but sheweth th'entent

of her working. Et e contra: Selinesse begyleth. For in prosperitè

she maketh a jape in blyndnesse; that is, she wyndeth him to

make sorowe whan she withdraweth. Wolt thou nat (quod she)

preise him better that sheweth to thee his herte, tho[ugh] it be

with bytande wordes and dispitous, than him that gloseth and

thinketh in †his absence to do thee many harmes?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'the oon is to commende; and the other to

lacke and dispice.'

'A! ha!' quod she, 'right so Ese, while †she lasteth, gloseth

and flatereth; and lightly voydeth whan she most plesauntly

sheweth; and ever, in hir absence, she is aboute to do thee tene

and sorowe in herte. But Unsely, al-be-it with bytande chere,

sheweth what she is, and so doth not that other; wherfore

Unsely doth not begyle. Selinesse disceyveth; Unsely put away

100

doute. That oon maketh men blynde; that other openeth their

eyen in shewinge of wrecchidnesse. The oon is ful of drede to

[45]

lese that is not his owne; that other is sobre, and maketh men

discharged of mokel hevinesse in burthen. The oon draweth

a man from very good; the other haleth him to vertue by the

105

hookes of thoughtes. And wenist thou nat that thy disese hath

don thee mokel more to winne than ever yet thou lostest, and

more than ever the contrary made thee winne? Is nat a greet

good, to thy thinking, for to knowe the hertes of thy sothfast

frendes? Pardè, they ben proved to the ful, and the trewe have

110

discevered fro the false. Trewly, at the goinge of the ilke brotel

joye, ther yede no more away than the ilke that was nat thyn

proper. He was never from that lightly departed; thyn owne

good therfore leveth it stille with thee. Now good (quod she);

for how moche woldest thou somtyme have bought this verry

115

knowing of thy frendes from the flatteringe flyes that thee glosed,

whan thou thought thy-selfe sely? But thou that playnest of losse

in richesse, hast founden the most dere-worthy thing; that thou

clepest unsely hath made thee moche thing to winnen. And

also, for conclusioun of al, he is frende that now leveth nat his

120

herte from thyne helpes. And if that Margarite denyeth now nat

to suffre her vertues shyne to thee-wardes with spredinge bemes,

as far or farther than if thou were sely in worldly joye, trewly,

I saye nat els but she is somdel to blame.'

'Ah! pees,' quod I, 'and speke no more of this; myn herte

125

breketh, now thou touchest any suche wordes!'

'A! wel!' quod she, 'thanne let us singen; thou herest no

more of these thinges at this tyme.'

Thus endeth the firste book of the Testament of Love;

and herafter foloweth the seconde.

Ch. X. 1. nowe. 2. abiection; read objeccion. be; read by. the. 3. the. 4. the. encrease the. nowe. 5. obiection. 6. let. 7. maye. se nowe. 12. nowe. 14. set. 15. can ne never; omit ne. 18. wytte. false. 19. auer (sic); for aueir (avoir). howe. cleaped. false. 24. onely. 25. wotte. new. 26. whome. 27. worlde.

29. reason. 32. arne a fayre parsel. 33. nowe. 37. se. 39. pouertie. 40. hydde. forsworne. 44. daye (twice). 46. miscleapynge. 50. wotte. 52. nowe I se. thentent. meanyng. 53. berafte. 54. gatherynge. 55. I supply before that. 56. whose profyte. 57. nowe. 58. the (twice). nowe. 63. dispyte. 64. the. Nowe. 65. woste.

66. the forthe. 67. mothers; read moders. 69. the. 70. haste. lente. 71. propertie. se nowe. 72. owne. 73. the. 74. stretched. fayne. 76. the. 78. arte. 79. ease. loste. 84. Howe. 85. thentent. 88. Wolte. 89. the. 91. their; read his. the. 92. one. 94. ease. he; read she. 99. dothe. awaye. 100-1. one (twice). 101. wretchydnesse.

103. one. 105. disease. 106. done the. 107. the. great. 109. Pardy. 111. awaye. 111-2. thyne. 113. leaueth. the. Nowe. 114. howe. 115. the. 117. thynge. 118. cleapest. the. thynge. 119. nowe leaueth. 120. hert. nowe. 121. the. spreadynge beames. 122. farre. 123. somdele. 124. peace. myne. 125. breaketh nowe. 126. lette.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

Very welth may not be founden in al this worlde; and that

is wel sene. Lo! how in my mooste comfort, as I wende

and moost supposed to have had ful answere of my contrary

thoughtes, sodaynly it was vanisshed. And al the workes of man

faren in the same wyse; whan folk wenen best her entent for to

have and willes to perfourme, anon chaunging of the lift syde to

the right halve tourneth it so clene in-to another kynde, that never

shal it come to the first plyte in doinge.

O this wonderful steering so soone otherwysed out of knowinge!

But for my purpos was at the beginninge, and so dureth yet, if god

of his grace tyme wol me graunt, I thinke to perfourme this

worke, as I have begonne, in love; after as my thinne wit, with

inspiracion of him that hildeth al grace, wol suffre. Grevously,

god wot, have I suffred a greet throwe that the Romayne

emperour, which in unitè of love shulde acorde, and every with

other * * * * in cause of other to avaunce; and namely, sithe

this empyre [nedeth] to be corrected of so many sectes in heresie

of faith, of service, o[f] rule in loves religion. Trewly, al were

it but to shende erroneous opinions, I may it no lenger suffre.

For many men there ben that sayn love to be in gravel and sande,

that with see ebbinge and flowinge woweth, as riches that sodaynly

vanissheth. And some sayn that love shulde be in windy blastes,

that stoundmele turneth as a phane, and glorie of renomè, which

after lustes of the varyaunt people is areysed or stilled.

Many also wenen that in the sonne and the moone and other

sterres love shulde ben founden; for among al other planettes

moste soveraynly they shynen, as dignitees in reverence of estates

rather than good han and occupyen. Ful many also there ben

that in okes and in huge postes supposen love to ben grounded,

as in strength and in might, whiche mowen not helpen their owne

[47]

wrecchidnesse, whan they ginne to falle. But [of] suche diversitè

of sectes, ayenst the rightful beleve of love, these errours ben forth

spredde, that loves servantes in trewe rule and stedfast fayth in

no place daren apere. Thus irrecuperable joy is went, and anoy

endless is entred. For no man aright reproveth suche errours,

but [men] confirmen their wordes, and sayn, that badde is noble

good, and goodnesse is badde; to which folk the prophete biddeth

wo without ende.

Also manye tonges of greet false techinges in gylinge maner,

principally in my tymes, not only with wordes but also with armes,

loves servauntes and professe in his religion of trewe rule pursewen,

to confounden and to distroyen. And for as moche as holy †faders,

that of our Christen fayth aproved and strengthed to the Jewes, as

to men resonable and of divinitè lerned, proved thilke fayth with

resones, and with auctoritès of the olde testament and of the newe,

her pertinacie to distroy: but to paynims, that for beestes and

houndes were holde, to putte hem out of their errour, was †miracle

of god shewed. These thinges were figured by cominge of th'angel

to the shepherdes, and by the sterre to paynims kinges; as who

sayth: angel resonable to resonable creature, and sterre of miracle

to people bestial not lerned, wern sent to enforme. But I, lovers

clerk, in al my conning and with al my mightes, trewly I have no

suche grace in vertue of miracles, ne for no discomfit falsheedes

suffyseth not auctoritès alone; sithen that suche [arn] heretikes

and maintaynours of falsitès. Wherfore I wot wel, sithen that

they ben men, and reson is approved in hem, the clowde of errour

hath her reson beyond probable resons, whiche that cacchende

wit rightfully may not with-sitte. By my travaylinge studie I have

ordeyned hem, †whiche that auctoritè, misglosed by mannes

reson, to graunt shal ben enduced.

Now ginneth my penne to quake, to thinken on the sentences

of the envyous people, whiche alway ben redy, both ryder and

goer, to scorne and to jape this leude book; and me, for rancour

and hate in their hertes, they shullen so dispyse, that although

my book be leude, yet shal it ben more leude holden, and by

wicked wordes in many maner apayred. Certes, me thinketh,

[48]

[of] the sowne of their badde speche right now is ful bothe myne

eeres. O good precious Margaryte, myne herte shulde wepe if

I wiste ye token hede of suche maner speche; but trewly, I wot

wel, in that your wysdom shal not asterte. For of god, maker of

kynde, witnesse I took, that for none envy ne yvel have I drawe

this mater togider; but only for goodnesse to maintayn, and

errours in falsetees to distroy. Wherfore (as I sayd) with reson

I thinke, thilke forsayd errours to distroye and dequace.

These resons and suche other, if they enduce men, in loves

service, trewe to beleve of parfit blisse, yet to ful faithe in

credence of deserte fully mowe they nat suffyse; sithen 'faith hath

no merite of mede, whan mannes reson sheweth experience in

doing.' For utterly no reson the parfit blisse of love by no waye

may make to be comprehended. Lo! what is a parcel of lovers

joye? Parfit science, in good service, of their desyre to comprehende

in bodily doinge the lykinge of the soule; not as by

a glasse to have contemplacion of tyme cominge, but thilke first

imagined and thought after face to face in beholding. What

herte, what reson, what understandinge can make his heven to be

feled and knowe, without assaye in doinge? Certes, noon. Sithen

thanne of love cometh suche fruite in blisse, and love in him-selfe

is the most among other vertues, as clerkes sayn; the seed of

suche springinge in al places, in al countreys, in al worldes shulde

ben sowe.

But o! welawaye! thilke seed is forsake, and †mowe not ben

suffred, the lond-tillers to sette a-werke, without medlinge of

cockle; badde wedes whiche somtyme stonken †han caught the

name of love among idiotes and badde-meninge people. Never-the-later,

yet how-so-it-be that men clepe thilke †thing preciousest

in kynde, with many eke-names, that other thinges that the soule

yeven the ilke noble name, it sheweth wel that in a maner men

have a greet lykinge in worshippinge of thilke name. Wherfore

this worke have I writte; and to thee, tytled of Loves name,

100

I have it avowed in a maner of sacrifyse; that, where-ever it be

rad, it mowe in merite, by the excellence of thilke name, the

more wexe in authoritè and worshippe of takinge in hede; and to

[49]

what entent it was ordayned, the inseëres mowen ben moved.

Every thing to whom is owande occasion don as for his ende,

105

Aristotle supposeth that the actes of every thinge ben in a maner

his final cause. A final cause is noblerer, or els even as noble,

as thilke thing that is finally to thilke ende; wherfore accion of

thinge everlasting is demed to be eternal, and not temporal;

sithen it is his final cause. Right so the actes of my boke 'Love,'

110

and love is noble; wherfore, though my book be leude, the cause

with which I am stered, and for whom I ought it doon, noble

forsothe ben bothe. But bycause that in conninge I am yong,

and can yet but crepe, this leude A. b. c. have I set in-to lerning;

for I can not passen the telling of three as yet. And if god

115

wil, in shorte tyme, I shal amende this leudnesse in joininge

syllables; whiche thing, for dulnesse of witte, I may not in three

letters declare. For trewly I saye, the goodnesse of my Margaryte-perle

wolde yeve mater in endyting to many clerkes; certes, her

mercy is more to me swetter than any livinges; wherfore my

120

lippes mowen not suffyse, in speking of her ful laude and worshippe

as they shulde. But who is that [wolde be wyse] in

knowing of the orders of heven, and putteth his resones in the

erthe? I forsothe may not, with blere eyen, the shyning sonne of

vertue in bright whele of this Margaryte beholde; therfore as yet

125

I may her not discryve in vertue as I wolde. In tyme cominge,

in another tretyse, thorow goddes grace, this sonne in clerenesse

of vertue to be-knowe, and how she enlumineth al this day,

I thinke to declare.

Ch. I. 2. howe. comforte. 3. hadde. 5. folke. 6. anone. 10. purpose. 12. wytte. 14. wotte. great. 16. (Something seems to be lost here). 17. I supply nedeth. 18. o; read of. 19. erronyous. maye. 20. menne. sayne. 26. amonge.

31. wretchydnesse. fal. I supply of. 32. forthe. 33. stedfaste faythe. 34. darne. 35. endlesse. 36. I supply men. 37. folke. 39. great. 40. onely. 42. fathers; read faders. 44. faythe. 47. put. miracles; read miracle. 48. thangel. 50. saythe. 51. werne. 53. discomfyte. 54. I supply arn. 55. wotte. 56. reason. erroure. 57. reason. bewonde (sic). catchende wytte. 59. with; read whiche. 60. reason. 61. Nowe. 62. alwaye. 63. booke. rancoure. 64. althoughe. 65. booke.

67. I supply of. nowe. 69. wotte. 70. wysdome 71. toke. 73. reason. 75. reasons. 76. parfyte. 78-9. reason (twice). 79. parfyte. 80. maye. persel. 81. parfyte. 85. reason. 86. none. 88. amonge. sayne. 88-91. sede. 91. mowen; read mowe. 92. londe-tyllers. set. 93. hath; read han. 94. meanynge. 95. howe. menne cleape. kynge (sic); read thing. 98. great. 99. the. 101. radde.

104. thynge. done. 107. thynge. 110. boke. 111. done (sic). 112. yonge. 113. canne. sette. 114. thre. 116. thynge. maye. thre. 121. that in knowyng (sic); supply wolde be wyse before in knowing. 125. maye. 126. thorowe. 127. howe.

CHAPTER II.

In this mene whyle this comfortable lady gan singe a wonder

mater of endytinge in Latin; but trewly, the noble colours in

rethorik wyse knitte were so craftely, that my conning wol not

strecche to remembre; but the sentence, I trowe, somdel have

I in mynde. Certes, they were wonder swete of sowne, and they

were touched al in lamentacion wyse, and by no werbles of

myrthe. Lo! thus gan she singe in Latin, as I may constrewe it

in our Englisshe tonge.

[50]

'Alas! that these hevenly bodyes their light and course shewen,

as nature yave hem in commaundement at the ginning of the first

age; but these thinges in free choice of reson han non

understondinge. But man that ought to passe al thing of doinge, of

right course in kynde, over-whelmed sothnesse by wrongful tytle,

and hath drawen the sterre of envye to gon by his syde, that the

clips of me, that shulde be his shynande sonne, so ofte is seye,

that it wened thilke errour, thorow hem come in, shulde ben myn

owne defaute. Trewly, therfore, I have me withdrawe, and mad

my dwellinge out of lande in an yle by my-selfe, in the occian

closed; and yet sayn there many, they have me harberowed; but,

god wot, they faylen. These thinges me greven to thinke, and

namely on passed gladnesse, that in this worlde was wont me

disporte of highe and lowe; and now it is fayled; they that

wolden maystries me have in thilke stoundes. In heven on

highe, above Saturnes sphere, in sesonable tyme were they

lodged; but now come queynte counsailours that in no house

wol suffre me sojourne, wherof is pitè; and yet sayn some that

they me have in celler with wyne shed; in gernere, there corn is

layd covered with whete; in sacke, sowed with wolle; in purse,

with money faste knit; among pannes mouled in a †whicche;

in presse, among clothes layd, with riche pelure arayed; in stable,

among hors and other beestes, as hogges, sheep, and neet; and

in many other wyse. But thou, maker of light (in winking of

thyn eye the sonne is queynt), wost right wel that I in trewe name

was never thus herberowed.

Somtyme, toforn the sonne in the seventh partie was smiten,

I bar both crosse and mytre, to yeve it where I wolde. With me

the pope wente a-fote; and I tho was worshipped of al holy

church. Kinges baden me their crownes holden. The law was

set as it shuld; tofore the juge, as wel the poore durste shewe

his greef as the riche, for al his money. I defended tho taylages,

and was redy for the poore to paye. I made grete feestes in my

tyme, and noble songes, and maryed damoselles of gentil feture,

withouten golde or other richesse. Poore clerkes, for witte of

schole, I sette in churches, and made suche persones to preche;

[51]

and tho was service in holy churche honest and devout, in

plesaunce bothe of god and of the people. But now the leude

for symonye is avaunced, and shendeth al holy churche. Now is

steward, for his achates; now †is courtiour, for his debates; now

is eschetour, for his wronges; now is losel, for his songes,

personer; and [hath his] provendre alone, with whiche manye

thrifty shulde encrese. And yet is this shrewe behynde; free

herte is forsake; and losengeour is take. Lo! it acordeth; for

suche there ben that voluntarie lustes haunten in courte with

ribaudye, that til midnight and more wol playe and wake, but in

the churche at matins he is behynde, for yvel disposicion of his

stomake; therfore he shulde ete bene-breed (and so did his

syre) his estate ther-with to strengthen. His auter is broke, and

lowe lyth, in poynte to gon to the erthe; but his hors muste ben

esy and hye, to bere him over grete waters. His chalice poore,

but he hath riche cuppes. No towayle but a shete, there god

shal ben handled; and on his mete-borde there shal ben bord-clothes

and towelles many payre. At masse serveth but a clergion;

fyve squiers in hal. Poore chaunsel, open holes in every

syde; beddes of silke, with tapites going al aboute his chambre.

Poore masse-book and leud chapelayn, and broken surplice with

many an hole; good houndes and many, to hunte after hart and

hare, to fede in their feestes. Of poore men have they greet

care; for they ever crave and nothing offren, they wolden have

hem dolven! But among legistres there dar I not come; my

doinge[s], they sayn, maken hem nedy. They ne wolde for

nothing have me in town; for than were tort and †force nought

worth an hawe about, and plesen no men, but thilk grevous and

torcious ben in might and in doing. These thinges to-forn-sayd

mowe wel, if men liste, ryme; trewly, they acorde nothing. And

for-as-moch as al thinges by me shulden of right ben governed,

I am sory to see that governaunce fayleth, as thus: to sene smale

and lowe governe the hye and bodies above. Certes, that

policye is naught; it is forbode by them that of governaunce

treten and enformen. And right as beestly wit shulde ben

[52]

subject to reson, so erthly power in it-selfe, the lower shulde ben

subject to the hygher. What is worth thy body, but it be

governed with thy soule? Right so litel or naught is worth

erthely power, but if reignatif prudence in heedes governe the

smale; to whiche heedes the smale owen to obey and suffre in

their governaunce. But soverainnesse ayenward shulde thinke in

this wyse: "I am servaunt of these creatures to me delivered,

not lord, but defendour; not mayster, but enfourmer; not

possessour, but in possession; and to hem liche a tree in whiche

sparowes shullen stelen, her birdes to norisshe and forth bringe,

under suretee ayenst al raveynous foules and beestes, and not to

be tyraunt them-selfe." And than the smale, in reste and quiete,

by the heedes wel disposed, owen for their soveraynes helth and

prosperitè to pray, and in other doinges in maintenaunce therof

performe, withouten other administracion in rule of any maner

governaunce. And they wit have in hem, and grace to come to

suche thinges, yet shulde they cese til their heedes them cleped,

although profit and plesaunce shulde folowe. But trewly, other

governaunce ne other medlinge ought they not to clayme, ne

the heedes on hem to putte. Trewly, amonges cosinage dar

100

I not come, but-if richesse be my mene; sothly, she and other

bodily goodes maketh nigh cosinage, ther never propinquitè ne

alyaunce in lyve was ne shulde have be, nere it for her medling

maners; wherfore kindly am I not ther leged. Povert of

kinred is behynde; richesse suffreth him to passe; truly he saith,

105

he com never of Japhetes childre. Whereof I am sory that

Japhetes children, for povert, in no linage ben rekened, and

Caynes children, for riches, be maked Japhetes heires. Alas! this

is a wonder chaunge bitwene tho two Noës children, sithen that

of Japhetes ofspring comeden knightes, and of Cayn discended

110

the lyne of servage to his brothers childre. Lo! how gentillesse

and servage, as cosins, bothe discended out of two brethern of

one body! Wherfore I saye in sothnesse, that gentilesse in

kinrede †maketh not gentil linage in succession, without desert

of a mans own selfe. Where is now the lyne of Alisaundre the

115

noble, or els of Hector of Troye? Who is discended of right

bloode of lyne fro king Artour? Pardè, sir Perdicas, whom that

[53]

Alisandre made to ben his heire in Grece, was of no kinges

bloode; his dame was a tombestere. Of what kinred ben the

gentiles in our dayes? I trow therfore, if any good be in gentilesse,

120

it is only that it semeth a maner of necessitè be input to

gentilmen, that they shulden not varyen fro the vertues of their

auncestres. Certes, al maner linage of men ben evenliche in

birth; for oon †fader, maker of al goodnes, enformed hem al,

and al mortal folk of one sede arn greyned. Wherto avaunt men

125

of her linage, in cosinage or in †elde-faders? Loke now the ginning,

and to god, maker of mans person; there is no clerk ne no

worthy in gentilesse; and he that norissheth his †corage with

vyces and unresonable lustes, and leveth the kynde course, to

whiche ende him brought forth his birthe, trewly, he is ungentil,

130

and among †cherles may ben nempned. And therfore, he that

wol ben gentil, he mot daunten his flesshe fro vyces that causen

ungentilnesse, and leve also reignes of wicked lustes, and drawe

to him vertue, that in al places gentilnesse gentilmen maketh.

And so speke I, in feminine gendre in general, of tho persones,

135

at the reverence of one whom every wight honoureth; for her

bountee and her noblesse y-made her to god so dere, that his

moder she became; and she me hath had so greet in worship,

that I nil for nothing in open declare, that in any thinge ayenst her

secte may so wene. For al vertue and al worthinesse of plesaunce

140

in hem haboundeth. And although I wolde any-thing speke,

trewly I can not; I may fynde in yvel of hem no maner mater.'

11. none. 12. thynge. 15. sey; read seye or seyen. 16. thorowe. 17. made. 19. sayne. 20. wote. 21. wonte. 23. nowe. 24. seasonable. 26. sayne. 27. corne. 28. layde. 29. knytte. amonge (twice). wyche; read whicche. 30. layde. 31. amonge horse. shepe. nete. 33. woste. 36. bare. 37. went. 40. grefe. 41. pay. great. 44. preache.

45. deuoute. 46. nowe. 47. Nowe. 48. stewarde. nowe. it; read is. nowe. 49. eschetoure. nowe. 50. I supply hath his. 51. encrease. 56. eate beane-. 58. lythe. gone. horse. 59. easy. beare. great. 61. meate-. borde-. 65. boke. leude chapelayne. 66. harte. 67. great. 68. nothynge. 69. amonge. dare. 70. sayne. 71. forthe; read force. 72. worthe. pleasen. 73. to-forne-. 74. nothynge. 76. sorye. se. 78. polesye. 79. treaten. wytte.

80. subiecte. reason. 82. worthe. 83. reignatyfe. 85. ayenwarde. 87. lorde. 88. possessoure. 89. forth bring. 90. suretie. 96. cease. 97. profyte. pleasaunce. 99. put. dare. 100. meane. 109. comeden (sic); read comen? 110. howe. 111. bretherne. 113. maken; read maketh. deserte. 114. nowe.

118. tombystere. 123. one. father; read fader. 124. folke. arne. 125. -fathers; read -faders. 126. clerke. 127. corare; read corage. 128. leaueth. 129. forthe. 130. amonge. clerkes (!); read cherles. 131. mote. 132. leaue. 136. bountie. 137. great. 139. maye.

CHAPTER III.

Right with these wordes she stinte of that lamentable

melodye; and I gan with a lyvely herte to praye, if that

it were lyking unto her noble grace, she wolde her deyne to

declare me the mater that firste was begonne, in which she lefte

and stinte to speke beforn she gan to singe.

'O,' quod she, 'this is no newe thing to me, to sene you men

desyren after mater, whiche your-selfe caused to voyde.'

'Ah, good lady,' quod I, 'in whom victorie of strength is proved

above al other thing, after the jugement of Esdram, whos lordship

[54]

al lignes: who is, that right as emperour hem commaundeth,

whether thilke ben not women, in whos lyknesse to me ye aperen?

For right as man halt the principaltè of al thing under his beinge,

in the masculyne gender; and no mo genders ben there

but masculyn and femenyne; al the remenaunt ben no gendres but

of grace, in facultee of grammer: right so, in the femenyne, the

women holden the upperest degree of al thinges under thilke

gendre conteyned. Who bringeth forth kinges, whiche that ben

lordes of see and of erthe; and al peoples of women ben born.

They norisshe hem that graffen vynes; they maken men comfort

in their gladde cheres. Her sorowe is deth to mannes herte.

Without women, the being of men were impossible. They conne

with their swetnesse the crewel herte ravisshe, and make it meke,

buxom, and benigne, without violence mevinge. In beautee

of their eyen, or els of other maner fetures, is al mens desyres;

ye, more than in golde, precious stones, either any richesse.

And in this degree, lady, your-selfe many hertes of men have

so bounden, that parfit blisse in womankynde to ben men wenen,

and in nothinge els. Also, lady, the goodnesse, the vertue of

women, by propertè of discrecion, is so wel knowen, by litelnesse

of malice, that desyre to a good asker by no waye conne they

warne. And ye thanne, that wol not passe the kynde werchinge

of your sectes by general discrecion, I wot wel, ye wol so enclyne

to my prayere, that grace of my requeste shal fully ben graunted.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'thus for the more parte fareth al mankynde,

to praye and to crye after womans grace, and fayne many fantasyes

to make hertes enclyne to your desyres. And whan these

sely women, for freeltè of their kynde, beleven your wordes, and

wenen al be gospel the promise of your behestes, than graunt[en]

they to you their hertes, and fulfillen your lustes, wherthrough

their libertè in maystreship that they toforn had is thralled; and

so maked soverayn and to be prayed, that first was servaunt,

and voice of prayer used. Anon as filled is your lust, many of you

be so trewe, that litel hede take ye of suche kyndnesse; but

with traysoun anon ye thinke hem begyle, and let light of that

thing whiche firste ye maked to you wonders dere; so what

thing to women it is to loven any wight er she him wel knowe,

and have him proved in many halfe! For every glittring thing

[55]

is nat gold; and under colour of fayre speche many vices may

be hid and conseled. Therfore I rede no wight to trust on you

to rathe; mens chere and her speche right gyleful is ful ofte.

Wherfore without good assay, it is nat worth on many †of you

to truste. Trewly, it is right kyndely to every man that thinketh

women betraye, and shewen outward al goodnesse, til he have

his wil performed. Lo! the bird is begyled with the mery voice

of the foulers whistel. Whan a woman is closed in your nette,

than wol ye causes fynden, and bere unkyndenesse her †on

hande, or falsetè upon her putte, your owne malicious trayson

with suche thinge to excuse. Lo! than han women non other

wreche in vengeaunce, but †blobere and wepe til hem list stint,

and sorily her mishap complayne; and is put in-to wening that

al men ben so untrewe. How often have men chaunged her

loves in a litel whyle, or els, for fayling their wil, in their

places hem set! For fren[d]ship shal be oon, and fame with another

him list for to have, and a thirde for delyt; or els were he lost

bothe in packe and in clothes! Is this fair? Nay, god wot.

I may nat telle, by thousande partes, the wronges in trechery

of suche false people; for make they never so good a bond,

al sette ye at a myte whan your hert tourneth. And they that

wenen for sorowe of you deye, the pitè of your false herte is flowe

out of towne. Alas! therfore, that ever any woman wolde take

any wight in her grace, til she knowe, at the ful, on whom she

might at al assayes truste! Women con no more craft in queynt

knowinge, to understande the false disceyvable conjectementes

of mannes begylinges. Lo! how it fareth; though ye men

gronen and cryen, certes, it is but disceyt; and that preveth wel

by th'endes in your werkinge. How many women have ben

lorn, and with shame foule shent by long-lastinge tyme, whiche

thorow mennes gyle have ben disceyved? Ever their fame shal

dure, and their dedes [ben] rad and songe in many londes; that

they han don, recoveren shal they never; but alway ben demed

lightly, in suche plyte a-yen shulde they falle. Of whiche slaunders

and tenes ye false men and wicked ben the verey causes; on you

by right ought these shames and these reproves al hoolly discende.

[56]

Thus arn ye al nighe untrewe; for al your fayre speche, your

herte is ful fickel. What cause han ye women to dispyse? Better

fruite than they ben, ne swetter spyces to your behove, mowe ye

not fynde, as far as worldly bodyes strecchen. Loke to their

forminge, at the making of their persones by god in joye of

paradyce! For goodnesse, of mans propre body were they

maked, after the sawes of the bible, rehersing goddes wordes in

this wyse: "It is good to mankynde that we make to him an

helper." Lo! in paradyse, for your helpe, was this tree graffed,

out of whiche al linage of man discendeth. If a man be noble

frute, of noble frute it is sprongen; the blisse of paradyse, to

mennes sory hertes, yet in this tree abydeth. O! noble helpes

ben these trees, and gentil jewel to ben worshipped of every

good creature! He that hem anoyeth doth his owne shame; it is

a comfortable perle ayenst al tenes. Every company is mirthed

by their present being. Trewly, I wiste never vertue, but a woman

100

were therof the rote. What is heven the worse though Sarazins

on it lyen? Is your fayth untrewe, though †renegates maken

theron lesinges? If the fyr doth any wight brenne, blame his

owne wit that put him-selfe so far in the hete. Is not fyr gentillest

and most comfortable element amonges al other? Fyr

105

is cheef werker in fortheringe sustenaunce to mankynde. Shal

fyr ben blamed for it brende a foole naturelly, by his own stulty

witte in steringe? Ah! wicked folkes! For your propre malice

and shreudnesse of your-selfe, ye blame and dispyse the precious[es]t

thing of your kynde, and whiche thinges among other

110

moste ye desyren! Trewly, Nero and his children ben shrewes,

that dispysen so their dames. The wickednesse and gyling of

men, in disclaundring of thilke that most hath hem glad[d]ed

and plesed, were impossible to wryte or to nempne. Never-the-later

yet I say, he that knoweth a way may it lightly passe; eke

115

an herbe proved may safely to smertande sores ben layd. So

I say, in him that is proved is nothing suche yvels to gesse.

But these thinges have I rehersed, to warne you women al at

ones, that to lightly, without good assaye, ye assenten not to

mannes speche. The sonne in the day-light is to knowen from

120

the moone that shyneth in the night. Now to thee thy-selfe

[57]

(quod she) as I have ofte sayd, I knowe wel thyne herte; thou

art noon of al the tofore-nempned people. For I knowe wel the

continuaunce of thy service, that never sithen I sette thee

a-werke, might thy Margaryte for plesaunce, frendship, ne fayrhede

125

of none other, be in poynte moved from thyne herte; wherfore

in-to myne housholde hastely I wol that thou entre, and al the

parfit privitè of my werking, make it be knowe in thy understonding,

as oon of my privy familiers. Thou desyrest (quod she)

fayn to here of tho thinges there I lefte?'

130

'Ye, forsothe,' quod I, 'that were to me a greet blisse.'

'Now,' quod she, 'for thou shalt not wene that womans condicions

for fayre speche suche thing belongeth:—

10. lignes (sic). 11. whose lykenesse. 12. halte. 15. facultie. 17. forthe. 18. borne. 19. comforte. 20. dethe. 23. buxome. beautie. 27. parfyte. 32. wotte. 38. graunt. 40. toforne.

48. golde. 51. worthe. on; read of. 53. -warde. 54. birde. 56. beare. vnhande; read on hande. 58. none. 59. bloder; read blobere. 61. Howe. 63. sette. frenship (sic). one. 64. lyste. delyte. 65. faire. 66. maye. tel. 67. bonde. 69. dey. 72. trust. crafte. 74. howe. 76. thendes. Howe. 77. lorne. longe-. 78. thorowe. 79. I supply ben. radde. 80. done. 81. fal. 83. holy.

84. arne. 87. farre. stretchen. 97. dothe. 99. wyst. 101. faythe. thoughe rennogates. 102. leasynges. fyre (four times) 103. wytte. farre. heate. 104, 112. moste. 104. element comfortable; read comfortable element. 105. chefe. 108. precioust. 109. amonge. 112-3. gladed and pleased. 115. layde. 120. Nowe. the.

122. arte none. 123. set the. 124. frendeshyp. fayrehede. 127. parfyte. 128. one. 129. fayne. 130. great. 131. Nowe.

CHAPTER IV.

Thou shalt,' quod she, 'understonde first among al other

thinges, that al the cure of my service to me in the parfit

blisse in doing is desyred in every mannes herte, be he never

so moche a wrecche; but every man travayleth by dyvers studye,

and seke[th] thilke blisse by dyvers wayes. But al the endes

are knit in selinesse of desyre in the parfit blisse, that is suche

joye, whan men it have gotten, there †leveth no thing more to

ben coveyted. But how that desyre of suche perfeccion in

my service be kindely set in lovers hertes, yet her erroneous

opinions misturne it by falsenesse of wening. And although

mannes understanding be misturned, to knowe whiche shuld ben

the way unto my person, and whither it abydeth; yet wote they

there is a love in every wight, [whiche] weneth by that thing that

he coveyteth most, he shulde come to thilke love; and that

is parfit blisse of my servauntes; but than fulle blisse may not

be, and there lacke any thing of that blisse in any syde. Eke it

foloweth than, that he that must have ful blisse lacke no blisse in

love on no syde.'

'Therfore, lady,' quod I tho, 'thilke blisse I have desyred,

and †soghte toforn this my-selfe, by wayes of riches, of dignitè,

[58]

of power, and of renomè, wening me in tho †thinges had ben

thilke blisse; but ayenst the heer it turneth. Whan I supposed

beste thilke blisse have †getten, and come to the ful purpose

of your service, sodaynly was I hindred, and throwen so fer

abacke, that me thinketh an inpossible to come there I lefte.'

'I †wot wel,' quod she; 'and therfore hast thou fayled; for

thou wentest not by the hye way. A litel misgoing in the ginning

causeth mikil errour in the ende; wherfore of thilke blisse thou

fayledest, for having of richesse; ne non of the other thinges thou

nempnedest mowen nat make suche parfit blisse in love as I shal

shewe. Therfore they be nat worthy to thilke blisse; and yet

somwhat must ben cause and way to thilke blisse. Ergo, there is

som suche thing, and som way, but it is litel in usage and that

is nat openly y-knowe. But what felest in thyne hert of the

service, in whiche by me thou art entred? Wenest aught thy-selfe

yet be in the hye way to my blisse? I shal so shewe it to

thee, thou shalt not conne saye the contrary.'

'Good lady,' quod I, 'altho I suppose it in my herte, yet

wolde I here thyn wordes, how ye menen in this mater.'

Quod she, 'that I shal, with my good wil. Thilke blisse

desyred, som-del ye knowen, altho it be nat parfitly. For kyndly

entencion ledeth you therto, but in three maner livinges is al suche

wayes shewed. Every wight in this world, to have this blisse, oon

of thilke three wayes of lyves must procede; whiche, after opinions

of grete clerkes, are by names cleped bestiallich, resonablich, [and

manlich. Resonablich] is vertuous. Manlich is worldlich. Bestialliche

is lustes and delytable, nothing restrayned by bridel of reson.

Al that joyeth and yeveth gladnesse to the hert, and it be ayenst

reson, is lykened to bestial living, which thing foloweth lustes and

delytes; wherfore in suche thinge may nat that precious blisse,

that is maister of al vertues, abyde. Your †faders toforn you have

cleped such lusty livinges after the flessh "passions of desyre,"

which are innominable tofore god and man both. Than, after

determinacion of suche wyse, we accorden that suche passions of

desyre shul nat be nempned, but holden for absolute from al other

livinges and provinges; and so †leveth in t[w]o livinges, manlich

[59]

and resonable, to declare the maters begonne. But to make thee

fully have understanding in manlich livinges, whiche is holden

worldlich in these thinges, so that ignorance be mad no letter,

I wol (quod she) nempne these forsayd wayes †by names and

conclusions. First riches, dignitè, renomè, and power shul in

this worke be cleped bodily goodes; for in hem hath ben, a gret

throw, mannes trust of selinesse in love: as in riches, suffisance

to have maintayned that was begonne by worldly catel; in dignitè,

honour and reverence of hem that wern underput by maistry

therby to obeye. In renomè, glorie of peoples praising, after

lustes in their hert, without hede-taking to qualitè and maner of

doing; and in power, by trouth of lordships mayntenaunce, thing

to procede forth in doing. In al whiche thinges a longe tyme

mannes coveytise in commune hath ben greetly grounded, to come

to the blisse of my service; but trewly, they were begyled, and for

the principal muste nedes fayle, and in helping mowe nat availe.

See why. For holdest him not poore that is nedy?'

'Yes, pardè,' quod I.

'And him for dishonored, that moche folk deyne nat to

reverence?'

'That is soth,' quod I.

'And what him, that his mightes faylen and mowe nat helpen?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'me semeth, of al men he shulde be holden

a wrecche.'

'And wenest nat,' quod she, 'that he that is litel in renomè,

but rather is out of the praysinges of mo men than a fewe, be nat

in shame?'

'For soth,' quod I, 'it is shame and villany, to him that

coveyteth renomè, that more folk nat prayse in name than preise.'

'Soth,' quod she, 'thou sayst soth; but al these thinges are

folowed of suche maner doinge, and wenden in riches suffisaunce,

in power might, in dignitè worship, and in renomè glorie; wherfore

they discended in-to disceyvable wening, and in that service disceit

is folowed. And thus, in general, thou and al suche other that so

worchen, faylen of my blisse that ye long han desyred. Wherfore

truly, in lyfe of reson is the hye way to this blisse; as I thinke

more openly to declare herafter. Never-the-later yet, in a litel to

comforte thy herte, in shewing of what waye thou art entred

[60]

*selfe, and that thy Margarite may knowe thee set in the hye way,

I wol enforme thee in this wyse. Thou hast fayled of thy first

purpos, bicause thou wentest wronge and leftest the hye way on

thy right syde, as thus: thou lokedest on worldly living, and that

thing thee begyled; and lightly therfore, as a litel assay, thou

100

songedest; but whan I turned thy purpos, and shewed thee

a part of the hye waye, tho thou abode therin, and no deth ne

ferdnesse of non enemy might thee out of thilk way reve; but

ever oon in thyn herte, to come to the ilke blisse, whan thou

were arested and firste tyme enprisoned, thou were loth to

105

chaunge thy way, for in thy hert thou wendest to have ben there

thou shuldest. And for I had routhe to sene thee miscaried,

and wiste wel thyn ablenesse my service to forther and encrese,

I com my-selfe, without other mene, to visit thy person in comfort

of thy hert. And perdy, in my comming thou were greetly

110

glad[d]ed; after whiche tyme no disese, no care, no tene, might

move me out of thy hert. And yet am I glad and greetly enpited,

how continually thou haddest me in mynde, with good avysement

of thy conscience, whan thy king and his princes by huge wordes

and grete loked after variaunce in thy speche; and ever thou

115

were redy for my sake, in plesaunce of the Margarite-perle and

many mo other, thy body to oblige in-to Marces doing, if any

contraried thy sawes. Stedfast way maketh stedfast hert, with

good hope in the ende. Trewly, I wol that thou it wel knowe;

for I see thee so set, and not chaunginge herte haddest in my

120

service; and I made thou haddest grace of thy kinge, in

foryevenesse of mikel misdede. To the gracious king art thou mikel

holden, of whos grace and goodnesse somtyme hereafter I thinke

thee enforme, whan I shew the ground where-as moral vertue

groweth. Who brought thee to werke? Who brought this grace

125

aboute? Who made thy hert hardy? Trewly, it was I. For

haddest thou of me fayled, than of this purpos had[dest thou]

never taken [hede] in this wyse. And therfore I say, thou might

wel truste to come to thy blisse, sithen thy ginninge hath ben hard,

but ever graciously after thy hertes desyr hath proceded. Silver

130

fyned with many hetes men knowen for trew; and safely men

[61]

may trust to the alay in werkinge. This †disese hath proved what

way hence-forward thou thinkest to holde.'

'Now, in good fayth, lady,' quod I tho, 'I am now in; me

semeth, it is the hye way and the right.'

135

'Ye, forsothe,' quod she, 'and now I wol disprove thy first

wayes, by whiche many men wenen to gette thilke blisse. But

for-as-moche as every herte that hath caught ful love, is tyed with

queynt knittinges, thou shalt understande that love and thilke

foresayd blisse toforn declared in this[e] provinges, shal hote the

140

knot in the hert.'

'Wel,' quod I, 'this inpossession I wol wel understande.'

'Now also,' quod she, 'for the knotte in the herte muste ben

from one to an-other, and I knowe thy desyr, I wol thou understande

these maters to ben sayd of thy-selfe, in disproving of thy

145

first service, and in strengthinge of thilke that thou hast

undertake to thy Margaryte-perle.'

'A goddes halfe,' quod I, 'right wel I fele that al this case is

possible and trewe; and therfore I †admitte it altogither.'

'†Understand wel,' quod she, 'these termes, and loke no

150

contradiccion thou graunt.'

'If god wol,' quod I, 'of al these thinges wol I not fayle; and

if I graunt contradiccion, I shulde graunte an impossible; and

that were a foul inconvenience; for whiche thinges, lady, y-wis,

herafter I thinke me to kepe.'

Ch. IV. 1. shalte. amonge. 2. parfyte. 4. wretche. 5. seke; read seketh. 6. parfyte. 7. lyueth; read leveth. thynge. 8. howe. perfection. 9. erronyous. 13. I supply whiche. 14. moste. 15. parfyte. maye. 16. thynge. 20. sothe; read soghte. toforne.

21. thrages (sic); read thinges. 22. heere. 23. get; read getten. 26. wol; read wot. 30. parfite. 33. some (twice). 37. the. shalte. con. 39. howe ye meanen. 41. some deale. 42. entention. thre. lyuenges. 43. one. 44. thre. 45. great. cleaped. I supply and manlich. Resonablich. 47. nothynge. 47-9. reason (twice). 49. lyueng. thynge. 50. maye. 51. fathers. toforne. 52. lyuenges. 54. determination. 56. lyuenges (twice). lyueth; read leveth. to; read two.

57. the. 58. lyuenges. 59. made. 60. be; read by. 62. cleaped. 64. begon. 65. werne. 66. obey. 70. greatly. 73. Se. 75. folke. 80. wretch. 89. disceite. 92. reason. 94. arte.

95-6. the (twice). 97-100. purpose. 98. lyueng. 99. the. 100-2. the. 101. parte. dethe. 103. one. 106. the. 107. wyst. thyne. encrease. 108. come. mean. For person read prison? comforte. 109. greatly gladed. 110. disease. 111. gladde. greatly. 112. howe. 114. great. 115. peerle. 119. se the. 121. arte. 122. whose. 123. the. grounde. 124. the. 126. purpose. had; read haddest thou. I supply hede. 128. harde. 129. desyre. 130. heates.

131. diseases (sic). waye. -forwarde. 133-142. Nowe (four times). 139. toforne. 143. desyre. 145. strenghthynge. haste. 148. admytted; read admytte it. 149. Vnderstanden (sic). 149-152. contradyction (twice). 153. foule. ladye.

CHAPTER V.

'Wel,' quod she, 'thou knowest that every thing is a cause,

wherthrough any thing hath being that is cleped "caused."

Than, if richesse †causeth knot in herte, thilke richesse †is cause

of thilke precious thinge being. But after the sentence of

Aristotle, every cause is more in dignitè than his thinge caused;

wherthrough it foloweth richesse to ben more in dignitè than

thilke knot. But richesses arn kyndely naughty, badde, and

nedy; and thilke knotte is thing kyndely good, most praysed

and desyred. Ergo, thing naughty, badde, and nedy in kyndely

[62]

understandinge is more worthy than thing kyndely good, most

desyred and praysed! The consequence is fals; nedes, the

antecedent mot ben of the same condicion. But that richesses

ben bad, naughty, and nedy, that wol I prove; wherfore they

mowe cause no suche thing that is so glorious and good. The

more richesse thou hast, the more nede hast thou of helpe hem

to kepe. Ergo, thou nedest in richesse, whiche nede thou

shuldest not have, if thou hem wantest. Than muste richesse

ben nedy, that in their having maken thee nedy to helpes, in

suretee thy richesse to kepen; wherthrough foloweth, richesse to

ben nedy. Everything causinge yvels is badde and naughty; but

richesse in one causen misese, in another they mowen not evenly

strecchen al about. Wherof cometh plee, debat, thefte, begylinges,

but richesse to winne; whiche thinges ben badde, and by richesse

arn caused. Ergo, thilke richesse[s] ben badde; whiche badnesse

and nede ben knit in-to richesse by a maner of kyndely propertee;

and every cause and caused accorden; so that it foloweth, thilke

richesse[s] to have the same accordaunce with badnesse and nede,

that their cause asketh. Also, every thing hath his being by his

cause; than, if the cause be distroyed, the being of caused is

vanisshed. And, so, if richesse[s] causen love, and richesse[s]

weren distroyed, the love shulde vanisshe; but thilke knotte, and

it be trewe, may not vanisshe, for no going of richesse. Ergo,

richesse is no cause of the knot. And many men, as I sayd,

setten the cause of the knotte in richesse; thilke knitten the

richesse, and nothing the yvel; thilke persons, what-ever they

ben, wenen that riches is most worthy to be had; and that make

they the cause; and so wene they thilke riches be better than the

person. Commenly, suche asken rather after the quantitè than

after the qualitè; and suche wenen, as wel by hem-selfe as by

other, that conjunccion of his lyfe and of his soule is no more

precious, but in as mikel as he hath of richesse. Alas! how may

he holden suche thinges precious or noble, that neither han lyf ne

soule, ne ordinaunce of werchinge limmes! Suche richesse[s]

ben more worthy whan they ben in †gadering; in departing,

ginneth his love of other mennes praysing. And avarice †gadering

maketh be hated, and nedy to many out-helpes; and whan leveth

the possession of such goodes, and they ginne vanissh, than

[63]

entreth sorowe and tene in their hertes. O! badde and strayte

ben thilke, that at their departinge maketh men teneful and sory,

and in the †gadering of hem make men nedy! Moche folk at

ones mowen not togider moche therof have. A good gest gladdeth

his hoste and al his meyny; but he is a badde gest that maketh

his hoste nedy and to be aferd of his gestes going.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'me wondreth therfore that the comune

opinion is thus: "He is worth no more than that he hath in

catel."'

'O!' quod she, 'loke thou be not of that opinion; for if gold or

money, or other maner of riches shynen in thy sight, whos is that?

Nat thyn. And tho[ugh] they have a litel beautee, they be nothing

in comparison of our kynde; and therfore, ye shulde nat sette

your worthinesse in thing lower than your-selfe. For the riches,

the fairnesse, the worthinesse of thilke goodes, if ther be any

suche preciousnesse in hem, are nat thyne; thou madest hem

so never; from other they come to thee, and to other they shul

from thee. Wherfore enbracest thou other wightes good, as

tho[ugh] they were thyn? Kynde hath drawe hem by hem-selfe.

It is sothe, the goodes of the erth ben ordayned in your fode

and norisshinge; but if thou wolt holde thee apayd with that

suffyseth to thy kynde, thou shalt nat be in daunger of no suche

riches; to kynde suffyseth litel thing, who that taketh hede.

And if thou wolt algates with superfluitè of riches be a-throted,

thou shalt hastelich be anoyed, or els yvel at ese. And fairnesse

of feldes ne of habitacions, ne multitude of meynè, may nat be

rekened as riches that are thyn owne. For if they be badde, it is

greet sclaunder and villany to the occupyer; and if they be good

or faire, the mater of the workman that hem made is to prayse.

How shulde other-wyse bountee be compted for thyne? Thilke

goodnesse and fairnesse be proper to tho thinges hem-selfe; than,

if they be nat thyne, sorow nat whan they wende, ne glad thee

nat in pompe and in pride whan thou hem hast. For their

bountee and their beautees cometh out of their owne kynde, and

nat of thyne owne person. As faire ben they in their not having

as whan thou hast hem. They be nat faire for thou hast hem;

but thou hast geten hem for the fairnesse of them-selfe. And

there the vaylance of men is demed in richesse outforth, wenen

[64]

me[n] to have no proper good in them-selfe, but seche it in

straunge thinges. Trewly, the condicion of good wening is to

thee mistourned, to wene, your noblesse be not in your-selfe, but

in the goodes and beautee of other thinges. Pardy, the beestes

that han but feling soules, have suffisaunce in their owne selfe;

and ye, that ben lyke to god, seken encrese of suffisaunce from so

excellent a kynde of so lowe thinges; ye do greet wrong to him

that you made lordes over al erthly thinges; and ye putte your

worthinesse under the nombre of the fete of lower thinges and

foule. Whan ye juge thilke riches to be your worthinesse, than

putte ye your-selfe, by estimacion, under thilke foule thinges;

and than leve ye the knowing of your-selfe; so be ye viler than

any dombe beest; that cometh of shrewde vice. Right so thilke

persons that loven non yvel for dereworthinesse of the persone,

100

but for straunge goodes, and saith, the adornement in the knot

lyth in such thing; his errour is perilous and shrewd, and he

wryeth moche venim with moche welth; and that knot may

nat be good whan he hath it getten.

Certes, thus hath riches with flickering sight anoyed many;

105

and often, whan there is a throw-out shrewe, he coyneth al the

gold, al the precious stones that mowen be founden, to have in

his bandon; he weneth no wight be worthy to have suche thinges

but he alone. How many hast thou knowe, now in late tyme,

that in their richesse supposed suffisance have folowed, and now

110

it is al fayled!'

'Ye, lady,' quod I, 'that is for mis medling; and otherwyse

governed [they] thilke richesse than they shulde.'

'Ye,' quod she tho, 'had not the flood greetly areysed, and

throwe to-hemward both gravel and sand, he had mad no medlinge.

115

And right as see yeveth flood, so draweth see ebbe, and

pulleth ayen under wawe al the firste out-throwe, but-if good pyles

of noble governaunce in love, in wel-meninge maner, ben sadly

grounded; †the whiche holde thilke gravel as for a tyme, that

ayen lightly mowe not it turne; and if the pyles ben trewe, the

120

gravel and sand wol abyde. And certes, ful warning in love shalt

thou never thorow hem get ne cover, that lightly with an ebbe, er

[65]

thou be ware, it [ne] wol ayen meve. In richesse many men

have had tenes and diseses, whiche they shulde not have had, if

therof they had fayled. Thorow whiche, now declared, partly it is

125

shewed, that for richesse shulde the knotte in herte neither ben

caused in one ne in other; trewly, knotte may ben knit, and

I trowe more stedfast, in love, though richesse fayled; and els,

in richesse is the knotte, and not in herte. And than suche

a knotte is fals; whan the see ebbeth and withdraweth the

130

gravel, that such richesse voydeth, thilke knotte wol unknitte.

Wherfore no trust, no way, no cause, no parfit being is in

richesse, of no suche knotte. Therfore another way muste we

have.

Ch. V. 1. thynge. 2. -throughe. 3. causen; read causeth. arne; read is. 7. arne. 8, 9. thynge (twice). moste.

10. thynge. moste. 11. false. 12. mote. 15. haste. 18. the. 19. suretie. 21. misease. 22. stretchen. debate. 24. arne. richesse; read richesses. 25. propertie. 27-30. richesse; read richesses (thrice). 35. nothynge. 40. coniunction. 41. howe maye. 42. lyfe. 43. richesse; read richesses. 44-5. gatheryng.

50. gatheryng. folke. 53. aferde. 55. worthe. 57. golde. 58. whose. 59. beautie. 60. set. 64-5. the (twice). 68. wolte. the apayde. 72. ease. 73. maye. 75. great. 76. workeman. 77. Howe. bountie. 79. the. 81. bountie. beautes. 83-4. haste (thrice).

86. me; read men. 87. condytion. 88. the. 89. beautie. 91. encrease. 92. great. 93-6. put (twice). 101. shreude. 102. maye. 105. throwe out. 106. golde. 108. Howe. haste. 108-9. nowe. 111. misse medlyng. 112. Supply they. 113. floode greatly. 114. hemwarde. sande. made. 115. floode. 116. out throw. 117. meanynge. 118. to; read the. 120. sande. 121. shalte. thorowe.

122. beware. I supply ne. 123. diseases. 124. Thorowe. nowe. partely. 126. maye. knytte. 129. false. 131. parfyte.

CHAPTER VI.

Honour in dignitè is wened to yeven a ful knot.'

'Ye, certes,' quod I, 'and of that opinion ben many;

for they sayn, dignitè, with honour and reverence, causen hertes

to encheynen, and so abled to be knit togither, for the excellence

in soverayntè of such degrees.'

'Now,' quod she, 'if dignitè, honour, and reverence causen

thilke knotte in herte, this knot is good and profitable. For

every cause of a cause is cause of thing caused. Than thus:

good thinges and profitable ben by dignitè, honour, and reverence

caused. Ergo, they accorden; and dignites ben good with

reverences and honour. But contraries mowen not accorden.

Wherfore, by reson, there shulde no dignitee, no reverence, non

honour acorde with shrewes. But that is fals; they have ben

cause to shrewes in many shreudnes; for with hem they accorden.

Ergo, from beginning to argue ayenward til it come to the laste

conclusion, they are not cause of the knot. Lo, al day at eye arn

shrewes not in reverence, in honour, and in dignitè? Yes, forsothe,

rather than the good. Than foloweth it that shrewes

rather than good shul ben cause of this knot. But of this [the]

contrarie of al lovers is bileved, and for a sothe openly determined

to holde.'

[66]

'Now,' quod I, 'fayn wolde I here, how suche dignitees acorden

with shrewes.'

'O,' quod she, 'that wol I shewe in manifolde wyse. Ye wene

(quod she) that dignites of office here in your citè is as the

sonne; it shyneth bright withouten any cloude; [of] whiche thing,

whan they comen in the handes of malicious tirauntes, there

cometh moche harm, and more grevaunce therof than of the

wilde fyre, though it brende al a strete. Certes, in dignitè of

office, the werkes of the occupyer shewen the malice and the

badnesse in the person; with shrewes they maken manyfolde

harmes, and moche people shamen. How often han rancours,

for malice of the governour, shulde ben mainteyned? Hath not

than suche dignitees caused debat, rumours, and yvels? Yes,

god wot, by suche thinges have ben trusted to make mens understanding

enclyne to many queynte thinges. Thou wottest wel

what I mene.'

'Ye,' quod I, 'therfore, as dignitè suche thing in tene y-wrought,

so ayenward, the substaunce in dignitè chaunged, relyed to bring

ayen good plyte in doing.'

'Do way, do way,' quod she; 'if it so betyde, but that is

selde, that suche dignitè is betake in a good mannes governaunce,

what thing is to recken in the dignitees goodnesse? Pardè, the

bountee and goodnesse is hers that usen it in good governaunce;

and therfore cometh it that honour and reverence shulde ben

don to dignitè bycause of encresinge vertue in the occupyer,

and not to the ruler bycause of soverayntee in dignitè. Sithen

dignitè may no vertue cause, who is worthy worship for suche

goodnesse? Not dignitè, but person, that maketh goodnesse in

dignitè to shyne.'

'This is wonder thing,' quod I; 'for me thinketh, as the person

in dignitè is worthy honour for goodnesse, so, tho[ugh] a person

for badnesse ma[u]gree hath deserved, yet the dignitè leneth to

be commended.'

'Let be,' quod she, 'thou errest right foule; dignitè with

badnesse is helper to performe the felonous doing. Pardy, were

it kyndly good, or any propertè of kyndly vertue [that men]

hadden in hem-selfe, shrewes shulde hem never have; with hem

shulde they never accorde. Water and fyr, that ben contrarious,

[67]

mowen nat togider ben assembled; kynde wol nat suffre suche

contraries to joyne. And sithen at eye, by experience in doing,

we seen that shrewes have hem more often than good men, siker

mayst thou be, that kyndly good in suche thing is nat appropred.

Pardy, were they kyndly good, as wel oon as other shulden

evenlich in vertue of governaunce ben worthe; but oon fayleth in

goodnesse, another doth the contrary; and so it sheweth, kyndly

goodnesse in dignitè nat be grounded. And this same reson

(quod she) may be mad, in general, on al the bodily goodes;

for they comen ofte to throw-out shrewes. After this, he is

strong that hath might to have grete burthens, and he is light

and swifte, that hath soveraintè in ronning to passe other; right

so he is a shrewe, on whom shreude thinges and badde han most

werchinge. And right as philosophy maketh philosophers, and

my service maketh lovers, right so, if dignites weren good or

vertuous, they shulde maken shrewes good, and turne her malice,

and make hem be vertuous. But that they do nat, as it is

proved, but causen rancour and debat. Ergo, they be nat good,

but utterly badde. Had Nero never ben Emperour, shulde

never his dame have be slayn, to maken open the privitè of his

engendrure. Herodes, for his dignitè, slew many children. The

dignitè of king John wolde have distroyed al England. Therfore

mokel wysdom and goodnesse both, nedeth in a person, the

malice in dignitè slyly to brydel, and with a good bitte of arest

to withdrawe, in case it wolde praunce otherwyse than it shulde.

Trewly, ye yeve to dignites wrongful names in your cleping.

They shulde hete, nat dignitè, but moustre of badnesse and

mayntenour of shrewes. Pardy, shyne the sonne never so bright,

and it bringe forth no hete, ne sesonably the herbes out-bringe of

the erthe, but suffre frostes and cold, and the erthe barayne to

ligge by tyme of his compas in circute about, ye wolde wonder,

and dispreyse that sonne! If the mone be at ful, and sheweth

no light, but derke and dimme to your sight appereth, and make

distruccion of the waters, wol ye nat suppose it be under cloude

or in clips, and that som prevy thing, unknowen to your wittes,

is cause of suche contrarious doinge? Than, if clerkes, that han

ful insight and knowing of suche impedimentes, enforme you of

[68]

the sothe, very idiottes ye ben, but-if ye yeven credence to thilk

clerkes wordes. And yet it doth me tene, to sene many wrecches

rejoycen in such maner planettes. Trewly, litel con[ne] they on

100

philosophy, or els on my lore, that any desyr haven suche

lightinge planettes in that wyse any more to shewe.'

'Good lady,' quod I, 'tel me how ye mene in these thinges.'

'Lo,' quod she, 'the dignites of your citè, sonne and mone,

nothing in kynde shew their shyning as they shulde. For the

105

sonne made no brenning hete in love, but freesed envye in

mennes hertes, for feblenesse of shyning hete; and the moone

was about, under an olde cloude, the livinges by waters to

distroye.'

'Lady,' quod I, 'it is supposed they had shyned as they

110

shulde.'

'Ye,' quod she, 'but now it is proved at the ful, their beautè in

kyndly shyning fayled; wherfore dignitè of him-selven hath no

beautee in fayrnesse, ne dryveth nat awaye vices, but encreseth;

and so be they no cause of the knotte. Now see, in good trouth;

115

holde ye nat such sonnes worthy of no reverence, and dignites

worthy of no worship, that maketh men to do the more harmes?'

'I not,' quod I.

'No?' quod she; 'and thou see a wyse good man, for his

goodnesse and wysnesse wolt thou nat do him worship? Therof

120

he is worthy.'

'That is good skil,' quod I; 'it is dewe to suche, both reverence

and worship to have.'

'Than,' quod she, 'a shrewe, for his shreudnesse, altho he be

put forth toforn other for ferde, yet is he worthy, for shrewdnesse,

125

to be unworshipped; of reverence no part is he worthy to have,

[that] to contrarious doing belongeth: and that is good skil.

For, right as he besmyteth the dignites, thilke same thing ayenward

him smyteth, or els shulde smyte. And over this thou wost

wel (quod she) that fyr in every place heteth where it be, and

130

water maketh wete. Why? For kyndely werking is so y-put in

hem, to do suche thinges; for every kyndely in werking sheweth

his kynde. But though a wight had ben mayre of your city

many winter togider, and come in a straunge place there he were

[69]

not knowen, he shulde for his dignitè have no reverence. Than

135

neither worshippe ne reverence is kyndely propre in no dignitè,

sithen they shulden don their kynde in suche doinge, if any were.

And if reverence ne worshippe kyndely be not set in dignitees,

and they more therein ben shewed than goodnesse, for that in

dignitè is shewed, but it proveth that goodnesse kyndely in hem

140

is not grounded. I-wis, neither worshippe, ne reverence, ne

goodnesse in dignitè don non office of kynde; for they have non

suche propertee in nature of doinge but by false opinion of the

people. Lo! how somtyme thilke that in your city wern in

dignitè noble, if thou liste hem nempne, they ben now overturned

145

bothe in worship, in name, and in reverence; wherfore

such dignites have no kyndly werching of worshippe and of

reverence. He that hath no worthinesse on it-selfe, now it ryseth

and now it vanissheth, after the variaunt opinion in false hertes

of unstable people. Wherfore, if thou desyre the knotte of this

150

jewel, or els if thou woldest suppose she shulde sette the knotte

on thee for suche maner dignitè, than thou wenest beautee or

goodnesse of thilke somwhat encreseth the goodnesse or vertue in

the body. But dignite[es] of hemself ben not good, ne yeven

reverence ne worshippe by their owne kynde. How shulde they

155

than yeve to any other a thing, that by no waye mowe they have

hem-selfe? It is sene in dignitè of the emperour and of many

mo other, that they mowe not of hem-selve kepe their worshippe

ne their reverence; that, in a litel whyle, it is now up and now

downe, by unstedfaste hertes of the people. What bountee mowe

160

they yeve that, with cloude, lightly leveth his shyninge? Certes,

to the occupyer is mokel appeyred, sithen suche doinge doth

villanye to him that may it not mayntayne. Wherfore thilke way

to the knotte is croked; and if any desyre to come to the knot,

he must leve this way on his lefte syde, or els shal he never come

165

there.

Ch. VI. 3. sayne. 4. knytte. 6. Nowe. 12. reason. none. 13. false. 15. ayenwarde. 16. arne. 19. Supply the.

22. Nowe. fayne. howe. 26. I supply of. thynge. 28. harme. 32. Howe. 34. debate. 35. wote. 37. meane. 39. ayenwarde. 44. bountie. 45. honoure. 46. done. encreasynge. 47. soverayntie. 53. magre. 57. Supply that. men and it. 59. fire.

61. ioyn. 62. sene. menne. 63. mayste. 64-5. one (twice). 66. dothe. 68. made. 69. throwe out. 70. great burthyns. 77. debate. 80. slewe. 81. Englande. 82. wysedom. 88. bring forthe. heate. 89. colde. 91. son. 93. distruction. 94. some.

98. wretches. 99. con; read conne. 100. desyre. 102. howe. mean. 107. lyuenges. 111. nowe. 113. beautie. encreaseth. 114. Nowe se. 118. se. 119. wysenesse wolte. 124. forthe toforne. 125. parte. 126. I supply that. 127. ayenwarde. 128. woste. 129. fyre. heateth. 132. cytie.

141. done none. none. 142. propertie. 143. howe. cytie werne. 144. nowe. 147. For He read That thing? 147-8. nowe (twice). 151. the. beautie. 152. encreaseth. 153. dignite; read dignitees. 154. howe. 155. thynge. 158. that that; read that. nowe (twice). 159. bountie. 160. leaueth. 161. dothe. 162. maye. waye. 164. leaue. waye.

CHAPTER VII.

Avayleth aught (quod she) power of might in mayntenaunce

of [men, to maken hem] worthy to come to this

knot?'

'Parde,' quod I, 'ye; for hertes ben ravisshed from suche

maner thinges.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'though a fooles herte is with thing

ravisshed, yet therfore is no general cause of the powers, ne of

a siker parfit herte to be loked after. Was not Nero the moste

shrewe oon of thilke that men rede, and yet had he power to

make senatours justices, and princes of many landes? Was not

that greet power?'

'Yes, certes,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'yet might he not helpe him-selfe out of

disese, whan he gan falle. How many ensamples canst thou

remembre of kinges grete and noble, and huge power †helden, and

yet they might not kepe hem-selve from wrecchednesse? How

wrecched was king Henry Curtmantil er he deyde? He had not

so moche as to cover with his membres; and yet was he oon

of the grettest kinges of al the Normandes ofspring, and moste

possession had. O! a noble thing and clere is power, that is not

founden mighty to kepe him-selfe! Now, trewly, a greet fole is

he, that for suche thing wolde sette the knotte in thyne herte!

Also power of rëalmes, is not thilke grettest power amonges the

worldly powers reckened? And if suche powers han wrecchednesse

in hem-selfe, it foloweth other powers of febler condicion to

ben wrecched; and than, that wrecchednesse shulde be cause of

suche a knotte! But every wight that hath reson wot wel that

wrecchednesse by no way may ben cause of none suche knotte;

wherfore suche power is no cause. That powers have wrecchednesse

in hem-selfe, may right lightly ben preved. If power lacke on

any syde, on that syde is no power; but no power is wrecchednesse:

for al-be-it so the power of emperours or kinges, or els

of their rëalmes (which is the power of the prince) strecchen

[71]

wyde and brode, yet besydes is ther mokel folk of whiche he

hath no commaundement ne lordshippe; and there-as lacketh his

power, his nonpower entreth, where-under springeth that maketh

hem wrecches. No power is wrecchednesse and nothing els;

but in this maner hath kinges more porcion of wrecchednesse

than of power. Trewly, suche powers ben unmighty; for ever

they ben in drede how thilke power from lesing may be keped

of sorow; so drede sorily prikkes ever in their hertes: litel

is that power whiche careth and ferdeth it-selfe to mayntayne.

Unmighty is that wrecchednesse whiche is entred by the ferdful

weninge of the wrecche him-selfe; and knot y-maked by wrecchednesse

is betwene wrecches; and wrecches al thing bewaylen;

wherfore the knot shulde be bewayled; and there is no suche

parfit blisse that we supposed at the ginning! Ergo, power in

nothing shulde cause suche knottes. Wrecchednesse is a kyndely

propertee in suche power, as by way of drede, whiche they mowe

nat eschewe, ne by no way live in sikernesse. For thou wost wel

(quod she) he is nought mighty that wolde don that he may not

don ne perfourme.'

'Therfore,' quod I, 'these kinges and lordes that han suffisaunce

at the ful of men and other thinges, mowen wel ben

holden mighty; their comaundementes ben don; it is nevermore

denyed.'

'Foole,' quod she, 'or he wot him-selfe mighty, or wot it

not; for he is nought mighty that is blynde of his might and wot

it not.'

'That is sothe,' quod I.

'Than if he wot it, he must nedes ben a-drad to lesen it. He

that wot of his might is in doute that he mote nedes lese; and so

ledeth him drede to ben unmighty. And if he recche not to lese,

litel is that worth that of the lesing reson reccheth nothing; and

if it were mighty in power or in strength, the lesing shulde ben

withset; and whan it cometh to the lesing, he may it not withsitte.

Ergo, thilke might is leude and naughty. Such mightes

arn y-lyke to postes and pillers that upright stonden, and greet

might han to bere many charges; and if they croke on any syde,

litel thing maketh hem overthrowe.'

'This is a good ensample,' quod I, 'to pillers and postes that

[72]

I have seen overthrowed my-selfe; and hadden they ben underput

with any helpes, they had not so lightly falle.'

'Than holdest thou him mighty that hath many men armed

and many servauntes; and ever he is adrad of hem in his herte;

and, for he gasteth hem, somtyme he mot the more fere have.

Comenly, he that other agasteth, other in him ayenward werchen

the same; and thus warnisshed mot he be, and of warnisshe the

hour drede. Litel is that might and right leude, who-so taketh

hede.'

'Than semeth it,' quod I, 'that suche famulers aboute kinges

and grete lordes shulde greet might have. Although a sypher in

augrim have no might in significacion of it-selve, yet he yeveth

power in significacion to other; and these clepe I the helpes to

a poste to kepe him from falling.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'thilke skilles ben leude. Why? But-if

the shorers be wel grounded, the helpes shulden slyden and suffre

the charge to falle; her might litel avayleth.'

'And so me thinketh,' quod I, 'that a poste alone, stonding

upright upon a basse, may lenger in greet burthen endure than

croken pilers for al their helpes, and her ground be not siker.'

'That is sothe,' quod she; 'for as, [if] the blynde in bering of

the lame ginne stomble, bothe shulde falle, right so suche pillers,

so envyroned with helpes, in falling of the grounde fayleth

†altogider. How ofte than suche famulers, in their moste pryde

of prosperitè, ben sodainly overthrowen! Thou hast knowe

many in a moment so ferre overthrowe, that cover might they

never. Whan the hevinesse of suche fayling cometh by case of

fortune, they mowe it not eschue; and might and power, if ther

100

were any, shulde of strength such thinges voyde and weyve; and

so it is not. Lo, than! whiche thing is this power, that, tho men

han it, they ben agast; and in no tyme of ful having be they

siker! And if they wold weyve drede, as they mow not, litel is

in worthines. Fye therfore on so naughty thing, any knot to

105

cause! Lo! in adversitè, thilk ben his foes that glosed and

semed frendes in welth; thus arn his familiers his foes and his

enemyes; and nothing is werse, ne more mighty for to anoy than

is a familier enemy; and these thinges may they not weyve; so

[73]

trewly their might is not worth a cresse. And over al thinge, he

110

that may not withdrawe the brydel of his flesshly lustes and his

wrecched complayntes (now think on thy-selfe) trewly he is not

mighty; I can seen no way that lyth to the knotte. Thilke

people than, that setten their hertes upon suche mightes and

powers, often ben begyled. Pardè, he is not mighty that may do

115

any thing, that another may doon him the selve, and that men

have as greet power over him as he over other. A justice that

demeth men ayenward hath ben often demed. Buserus slew his

gestes, and he was slayn of Hercules his geste. Hugest betraysshed

many men, and of Collo was he betrayed. He that with

120

swerde smyteth, with swerde shal be smitten.'

Than gan I to studyen a whyle on these thinges, and made

a countenaunce with my hande in maner to ben huisht.

'Now let seen,' quod she, 'me thinketh somwhat there is

within thy soule, that troubleth thy understanding; saye on what

125

it is.'

Quod I tho, 'me thinketh that, although a man by power have

suche might over me, as I have over another, that disproveth no

might in my person; but yet may I have power and might

never-the-later.'

130

'See now,' quod she, 'thyne owne leudenesse. He is mighty

that may without wrecchednesse; and he is unmighty that may it

not withsitte; but than he, that might over thee, and he wol,

putte on thee wrecchednesse, thou might it not withsitte. Ergo,

thou seest thy-selfe what foloweth! But now (quod she) woldest

135

thou not skorne, and thou see a flye han power to don harm to

an-other flye, and thilke have no might ne ayenturning him-selfe

to defende?'

'Yes, certes,' quod I.

'Who is a frayler thing,' quod she, 'than the fleshly body of

140

a man, over whiche have oftentyme flyes, and yet lasse thing than

a flye, mokel might in grevaunce and anoying, withouten any

withsittinge, for al thilke mannes mightes? And sithen thou

seest thyne flesshly body in kyndely power fayle, how shulde than

the accident of a thinge ben in more suretè of beinge than

145

substancial? Wherfore, thilke thinges that we clepe power is but

[74]

accident to the flesshly body; and so they may not have that

suretee in might, whiche wanteth in the substancial body. Why

there is no way to the knotte, [for him] that loketh aright after

the hye way, as he shulde.

Ch. VII. 2. I supply men, to maken hem. 8. parfyte. 9. one. 11. great. 14. disease. fal. Howe. canste. 15. great. holden; read helden. 16. wretchydnesse. Howe wretched. 18. one. 19. greatest. 20. thynge. 21. Nowe. great. 23. greatest. 24. wretchydnesse (several times); wretched (several times). 27. reason wote. 33. stretchen.

34. folke. 40. howe. 41. prickes. 47. parfyte. 49. propertie. 50. woste. 51-5. done (thrice). 57-62. wotte (four times). 61. a dradde. 63. leadeth. retche. 64. worthe. reason retcheth. 68. arne. great. 69. beare. 70. thynge.

72. sene. 73. fal. 75. adradde. 76. mote. feare. 77. ayenwarde. 78. mote. 82. great (twice). Althoughe. 88. fal. 90. graet (sic). 91. grounde. 92. Supply if. bearyng. 93. fal. 95. al togyther. howe. 96. haste. 108. enemye.

109. worthe. 110. maye. 111. wretched. nowe thynke. 112. sene. waye. lythe. 115. maye doone. 116. great. 117. ayenwarde. slewe. 118. slayne. 122. huyshte. 123. Nowe. sene. 130. Se nowe. 131. maye. wretchydnesse. 132. the. 133. put. the wretchydnesse. 134. nowe. 135. se. done harme. 141. anoyeng. 143. howe.

CHAPTER VIII.

Verily it is proved that richesse, dignitè, and power ben not

trewe way to the knotte, but as rathe by suche thinges the

knotte to be unbounde; wherfore on these thinges I rede no

wight truste to gette any good knotte. But what shul we saye of

renomè in the peoples mouthes? Shulde that ben any cause?

What supposest thou in thyn herte?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'yes, I trowe; for your slye resons I dare not

safely it saye.'

'Than,' quod she, 'wol I preve that shrewes as rathe shul ben

in the knotte as the good; and that were ayenst kynde.'

'Fayn,' quod I, 'wolde I that here; me thinketh wonder how

renomè shuld as wel knitte a shrewe as a good person; renomè

in every degree hath avaunced; yet wist I never the contrarye.

Shulde than renomè accorde with a shrewe? It may not sinke in

my stomake til I here more.'

'Now,' quod she, 'have I not sayd alwayes, that shrewes shul

not have the knotte?'

'What nedeth,' quod I, 'to reherse that any more? I wot wel

every wight, by kyndely reson, shrewes in knitting wol eschewe.'

'Than,' quod she, 'the good ought thilke knotte to have.'

'How els?' quod I.

'It were greet harm,' quod she, 'that the good were weyved

and put out of espoire of the knotte, if he it desyred.'

'O,' quod I, 'alas! On suche thing to thinke, I wene that

heven wepeth to see suche wronges here ben suffred on erthe; the

good ought it to have, and no wight els.'

'The goodnesse,' quod she, 'of a person may not ben knowe

outforth but by renomè of the knowers; wherfore he must be

renomed of goodnesse, to come to the knot.'

'So must it be,' quod I, 'or els al lost that we carpen.'

[75]

'Sothly,' quod she, 'that were greet harm, but-if a good man

might have his desyres in service of thilke knot, and a shrewe to

be †weyved, and they ben not knowen in general but by lacking

and praysing, and in renomè; and so by the consequence it

foloweth, a shrewe to ben praysed and knit; and a good to be

forsake and unknit.'

'Ah,' quod I tho, 'have ye, lady, ben here abouten; yet wolde

I see, by grace of our argumentes better declared, how good and

bad do acorden by lacking and praysing; me thinketh it ayenst

kynde.'

'Nay,' quod she, 'and that shalt thou see as yerne; these

elementes han contrarious qualitees in kynde, by whiche they

mowe not acorde no more than good and badde; and in [some]

qualitees they acorde, so that contraries by qualitè acorden by

qualitè. Is not erthe drye; and water, that is next and bitwene

th'erthe, is wete? Drye and wete ben contrarie, and mowen not

acorde, and yet this discordaunce is bounde to acorde by cloudes;

for bothe elementes ben colde. Right so the eyre, that is next

the water, is wete; and eke it is hot. This eyre by his hete

contrarieth water that is cold; but thilke contrarioustè is oned †by

moysture; for bothe be they moyst. Also the fyr, that is next

the †eyre and it encloseth al about, is drye, wherthrough it

contrarieth †eyre, that is wete; and in hete they acorde; for

bothe they ben hote. Thus by these acordaunces discordantes

ben joyned, and in a maner of acordaunce they acorden by

conneccion, that is, knitting togither; of that accorde cometh

a maner of melodye that is right noble. Right so good and bad

arn contrarie in doinges, by lacking and praysing; good is bothe

lacked and praysed of some; and badde is bothe lacked and

praysed of some; wherfore their contrarioustee acorde bothe by

lacking and praysing. Than foloweth it, though good be never

so mokel praysed, [it] oweth more to ben knit than the badde;

or els bad, for the renomè that he hath, must be taken as wel as

the good; and that oweth not.'

'No, forsothe,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'than is renomè no way to the knot. Lo,

foole,' quod she, 'how clerkes wryten of suche glorie of renomè:—"O

[76]

glorie, glorie, thou art non other thing to thousandes of folke

but a greet sweller of eeres!" Many oon hath had ful greet renomè

by false opinion of variaunt people. And what is fouler than

folk wrongfully to ben praysed, or by malice of the people giltlesse

lacked? Nedes shame foloweth therof to hem that with wrong

prayseth, and also to the desertes praysed; and vilanye and

reproof of him that disclaundreth.

Good child (quod she) what echeth suche renomè to the

conscience of a wyse man, that loketh and mesureth his goodnesse,

not by slevelesse wordes of the people, but by sothfastnesse

of conscience? By god, nothing. And if it be fayr, a mans name

be eched by moche folkes praysing, and fouler thing that mo folk

not praysen? I sayd to thee a litel here-beforn, that no folk in

straunge countreyes nought praysen; suche renomè may not

comen to their eeres, bycause of unknowing and other obstacles,

as I sayde: wherfore more folk not praysen, and that is right foul

to him that renomè desyreth, to wete, lesse folk praisen than

renomè enhaunce. I trowe, the thank of a people is naught

worth in remembraunce to take; ne it procedeth of no wyse

jugement; never is it stedfast pardurable. It is veyne and fleing;

with winde wasteth and encreseth. Trewly, suche glorie ought to

be hated. If gentillesse be a cleer thing, renomè and glorie to

enhaunce, as in reckening of thy linage, than is gentilesse of thy

kinne; for-why it semeth that gentilesse of thy kinne is but

praysing and renomè that come of thyne auncestres desertes:

and if so be that praysing and renomè of their desertes make

their clere gentillesse, than mote they nedes ben gentil for their

gentil dedes, and not thou; for of thy-selfe cometh not such

maner gentilesse, praysinge of thy desertes. Than gentillesse of

thyne auncesters, that forayne is to thee, maketh thee not gentil,

but ungentil and reproved, and-if thou continuest not their

gentilesse. And therfore a wyse man ones sayde: "Better is it

100

thy kinne to ben by thee gentyled, than thou to glorifye of thy

kinnes gentilesse, and hast no desert therof thy-selfe."

How passinge is the beautee of flesshly bodyes, more flittinge

than movable floures of sommer! And if thyne eyen weren as good

as the lynx, that may seen thorow many stone walles, bothe fayre

[77]

105

and foule, in their entrayles, of no maner hewe shulde apere to

thy sight; that were a foule sight. Than is fayrnesse by feblesse

of eyen, but of no kynde; wherfore thilke shulde be no way to

the knot; whan thilke is went, the knotte wendeth after. Lo,

now, at al proves, none of al these thinges mowe parfitly ben in

110

understanding, to ben way to the during blisse of the knotte.

But now, to conclusion of these maters, herkeneth these wordes.

Very sommer is knowe from the winter: in shorter cours draweth

the dayes of Decembre than in the moneth of June; the springes

of Maye faden and †falowen in Octobre. These thinges ben not

115

unbounden from their olde kynde; they have not lost her werke

of their propre estat. Men, of voluntarious wil, withsitte that

hevens governeth. Other thinges suffren thinges paciently to

werche; man, in what estat he be, yet wolde he ben chaunged.

Thus by queynt thinges blisse is desyred; and the fruit that

120

cometh of these springes nis but anguis and bitter; al-though it

be a whyle swete, it may not be with-holde; hastely they departe;

thus al-day fayleth thinges that fooles wende. Right thus hast

thou fayled in thy first wening. He that thinketh to sayle, and drawe

after the course of the sterre de polo antartico, shal he never

125

come northward to the contrarye sterre of polus articus; of whiche

thinges if thou take kepe, thy first out-waye-going "prison" and

"exile" may be cleped. The ground falsed underneth, and so

hast thou fayled. No wight, I wene, blameth him that stinteth

in misgoing, and secheth redy way of his blisse. Now me

130

thinketh (quod she) that it suffyseth in my shewing; the wayes

by dignetè, richesse, renomè, and power, if thou loke clerely, arn

no wayes to the knotte.'

Ch. VIII. 2. waye. 11. Fayne. howe. 14. maye. 16. Nowe. 18. wotte. 19. reason. 21. Howe. 22. great harme. 25. se.

31. great harme. 33. veyned; read weyued. 38. se. howe. 41. se. 42. qualyties. 43. I supply some. 46. therthe. 49. hotte. 50. colde. contrariousty. my; read by. 51. fyre. 52. erthe; read eyre (twice). 56. connection. 58. arne. 60. contraryoustie. 62. I supply it. 66. waye. 67. howe.

68. arte none. thynge. 69. great. one. great. 71. folke. 74. reprofe. 75. chylde. 76. measureth. 78. fayre. 79. folke. 80. the. beforne. folke. 83. folke. foule. 84. folke. 85. thanke. 86. worthe. 88. encreaseth. 89. clear thynge. 97-100. the (thrice). 101. haste. deserte. 102. Howe. beautie. 104. maye sene thorowe.

106. fayrenesse. 109-111. nowe (twice). 110. waye. 111. nowe. 114. folowen; read falowen. 115. loste. 116. estate. 119. fruite. 121. maye. 122. al-daye. haste. 125. northwarde. 127. grounde. 129. Nowe. 132. ways.

CHAPTER IX.

'Every argument, lady,' quod I tho, 'that ye han maked in

these fore-nempned maters, me thinketh hem in my ful

witte conceyved; shal I no more, if god wil, in the contrarye be

begyled. But fayn wolde I, and it were your wil, blisse of the

knotte to me were declared. I might fele the better how my

[78]

herte might assente, to pursue the ende in service, as he hath

begonne.'

'O,' quod she, 'there is a melodye in heven, whiche clerkes

clepen "armony"; but that is not in brekinge of voice, but it is

a maner swete thing of kyndely werching, that causeth joye[s]

out of nombre to recken, and that is joyned by reson and by

wysdome in a quantitè of proporcion of knitting. God made al

thing in reson and in witte of proporcion of melody, we mowe not

suffyse to shewe. It is written by grete clerkes and wyse, that,

in erthly thinges, lightly by studye and by travayle the knowinge

may be getten; but of suche hevenly melody, mokel travayle wol

bringe out in knowing right litel. Swetenesse of this paradyse

hath you ravisshed; it semeth ye slepten, rested from al other

diseses; so kyndely is your herte therein y-grounded. Blisse of

two hertes, in ful love knitte, may not aright ben imagined; ever

is their contemplacion, in ful of thoughty studye to plesaunce,

mater in bringinge comfort everiche to other. And therfore, of

erthly thinges, mokel mater lightly cometh in your lerning.

Knowledge of understonding, that is nigh after eye, but not so

nigh the covetyse of knittinge in your hertes. More soverain

desyr hath every wight in litel heringe of hevenly conninge than

of mokel material purposes in erthe. Right so it is in propertee

of my servauntes, that they ben more affiched in steringe of litel

thinge in his desyr than of mokel other mater lasse in his

conscience. This blisse is a maner of sowne delicious in

a queynte voice touched, and no dinne of notes; there is non

impression of breking labour. I can it not otherwyse nempne,

for wantinge of privy wordes, but paradyse terrestre ful of delicious

melody, withouten travayle in sown, perpetual service in ful joye

coveyted to endure. Only kynde maketh hertes in understonding

so to slepe, that otherwyse may it nat be nempned, ne in other

maner names for lyking swetnesse can I nat it declare; al sugre

and hony, al minstralsy and melody ben but soot and galle in

comparison, by no maner proporcion to reken, in respect of this

blisful joye. This armony, this melody, this perdurable joye may

nat be in doinge but betwene hevens and elementes, or twey

kyndly hertes ful knit in trouth of naturel understonding, withouten

weninge and disceit; as hevens and planettes, whiche thinges

[79]

continually, for kyndly accordaunces, foryeteth al contrarious

mevinges, that in-to passive diseses may sowne; evermore it

thirsteth after more werking. These thinges in proporcion be

so wel joyned, that it undoth al thing whiche in-to badnesse by any

way may be accompted.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'this is a thing precious and noble. Alas!

that falsnesse ever, or wantrust shulde ever be maynteyned, this

joye to voyde. Alas! that ever any wrecche shulde, thorow wrath

or envy, janglinge dare make, to shove this melody so farre

a-backe, that openly dar it nat ben used; trewly, wrecches ben

fulfilled with envy and wrathe, and no wight els. Flebring

and tales in suche wrecches dare appere openly in every wightes

eere, with ful mouth so charged, [with] mokel malice moved

many innocentes to shende; god wolde their soule therwith were

strangled! Lo! trouth in this blisse is hid, and over-al under

covert him hydeth; he dar not come a-place, for waytinge of

shrewes. Commenly, badnesse goodnesse amaistreth; with my-selfe

and my soule this joye wolde I bye, if the goodnesse were

as moche as the nobley in melody.'

'O,' quod she, 'what goodnesse may be acompted more in

this material worlde? Truly, non; that shalt thou understonde.

Is nat every thing good that is contrariant and distroying yvel?'

'How els?' quod I.

'Envy, wrathe, and falsnesse ben general,' quod she; 'and

that wot every man being in his right mynde; the knotte, the

whiche we have in this blisse, is contrariaunt and distroyeth such

maner yvels. Ergo, it is good. What hath caused any wight

to don any good dede? Fynd me any good, but-if this knotte

be the cheef cause. Nedes mot it be good, that causeth so

many good dedes. Every cause is more and worthier than thing

caused; and in that mores possession al thinges lesse ben

compted. As the king is more than his people, and hath in

possession al his rëalme after, right so the knot is more than

al other goodes; thou might recken al thinges lasse; and that

to him longeth, oweth in-to his mores cause of worship and of

wil †to turne; it is els rebel and out of his mores defending to

voyde. Right so of every goodnesse; in-to the knotte and

in-to the cause of his worship [it] oweth to tourne. And trewly,

[80]

every thing that hath being profitably is good, but nothing hath

to ben more profitably than this knot; kinges it mayntayneth,

and hem, their powers to mayntayne. It maketh misse to ben

amended with good governaunce in doing. It closeth hertes

so togider, that rancour is out-thresten. Who that it lengest

kepeth, lengest is glad[d]ed.'

'I trowe,' quod I, 'heretykes and misse-mening people hence-forward

wol maintayne this knotte; for therthorough shul they

ben maintayned, and utterly wol turne and leve their olde yvel

understanding, and knitte this goodnesse, and profer so ferre

in service, that name of servauntes might they have. Their

jangles shal cese; me thinketh hem lacketh mater now to alege.'

'Certes,' quod Love, 'if they, of good wil thus turned, as thou

sayst, wolen trewly perfourme, yet shul they be abled party

of this blisse to have; and they wol not, yet shul my servauntes

the werre wel susteyne in myn helpe of maintenaunce to the ende.

And they, for their good travayle, shullen in reward so ben meded,

that endelesse joye body and soule †to-gider in this shullen

100

abyden. There is ever accion of blisse withouten possible

corrupcion; there is accion perpetuel in werke without travayle;

there is everlasting passife, withouten any of labour; continuel

plyte, without cesinge coveyted to endure. No tonge may telle,

ne herte may thinke the leest point of this blisse.'

105

'God bring me thider!' quod I than.

'Continueth wel,' quod she, 'to the ende, and thou might not

fayle than; for though thou spede not here, yet shal the passion

of thy martred lyfe ben written, and rad toforn the grete Jupiter,

that god is of routhe, an high in the holownesse of heven, there

110

he sit in his trone; and ever thou shalt forward ben holden

amonge al these hevins for a knight, that mightest with no

penaunce ben discomfited. He is a very martyr that, livingly

goinge, is gnawen to the bones.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'these ben good wordes of comfort; a litel

115

myne herte is rejoyced in a mery wyse.'

'Ye,' quod she; 'and he that is in heven felith more joye,

than whan he firste herde therof speke.'

'So it is,' quod I; 'but wist I the sothe, that after disese

comfort wolde folowe with blisse, so as ye have often declared,

[81]

120

I wolde wel suffre this passion with the better chere. But my

thoughtful sorowe is endelesse, to thinke how I am cast out

of a welfare; and yet dayneth not this yvel non herte, non hede,

to meward throwe: which thinges wolde greetly me by wayes

of comfort disporte, to weten in my-selfe a litel with other me[n]

125

ben y-moved; and my sorowes peysen not in her balaunce the

weyght of a peese. Slinges of her daunger so hevily peysen,

they drawe my causes so hye, that in her eyen they semen but

light and right litel.'

'O! for,' quod she, 'heven with skyes that foule cloudes

130

maken and darke †weders, with gret tempestes and huge,

maketh the mery dayes with softe shyning sonnes. Also the

yere with-draweth floures and beautee of herbes and of erth;

the same †yere maketh springes and jolitè in Vere so to renovel

with peinted coloures, that erthe semeth as gay as heven. Sees

135

that blasteth and with wawes throweth shippes, of whiche the

living creatures for greet peril for hem dreden; right so, the

same sees maketh smothe waters and golden sayling, and comforteth

hem with noble haven that firste were so ferde. Hast

thou not (quod she) lerned in thy youth, that Jupiter hath in

140

his warderobe bothe garmentes of joye and of sorowe? What

wost thou how soone he wol turne of the garment of care,

and clothe thee in blisse? Pardè, it is not ferre fro thee. Lo,

an olde proverbe aleged by many wyse:—"Whan bale is greetest,

than is bote a nye-bore." Wherof wilt thou dismaye? Hope

145

wel and serve wel; and that shal thee save, with thy good bileve.'

'Ye, ye,' quod I; 'yet see I not by reson how this blisse

is coming; I wot it is contingent; it may falle on other.'

'O,' quod she, 'I have mokel to done to clere thyne understanding,

and voyde these errours out of thy mynde. I wol

150

prove it by reson, thy wo may not alway enduren. Every thing

kyndely (quod she) is governed and ruled by the hevenly bodyes,

whiche haven ful werchinge here on erthe; and after course

of these bodyes, al course of your doinges here ben governed

and ruled by kynde.

155

Thou wost wel, by cours of planettes al your dayes proceden;

and to everich of singuler houres be enterchaunged stondmele

[82]

about, by submitted worching naturally to suffre; of whiche

changes cometh these transitory tymes that maketh revolving of

your yeres thus stondmele; every hath ful might of worchinge,

160

til al seven han had her course about. Of which worchinges and

possession of houres the dayes of the weke have take her names,

after denominacion in these seven planettes. Lo, your Sonday

ginneth at the first hour after noon on the Saturday, in whiche

hour is than the Sonne in ful might of worching; of whom Sonday

165

taketh his name. Next him foloweth Venus, and after

Mercurius, and than the Moone; so than Saturnus, after whom

Jovis; and than Mars; and ayen than the Sonne; and so forth

†by .xxiiii. houres togider; in whiche hour ginning in the seconde

day stant the Moone, as maister for that tyme to rule; of whom

170

Monday taketh his name; and this course foloweth of al other

dayes generally in doing. This course of nature of these bodyes

chaunging stinten at a certain terme, limitted by their first kynde;

and of hem al governementes in this elemented worlde proceden,

as in springes, constellacions, engendrures, and al that folowen

175

kynde and reson; wherfore [in] the course that foloweth, sorowe

and joy kyndely moten entrechangen their tymes; so that

alway oon wele, as alway oon wo, may not endure. Thus seest

thou appertly, thy sorowe in-to wele mot ben chaunged; wherfore

in suche case to better syde evermore enclyne thou shuldest.

180

Trewly, next the ende of sorowe anon entreth joy; by maner

of necessitè it wol ne may non other betyde; and so thy conti[n]gence

is disproved; if thou holde this opinion any more, thy

wit is right leude. Wherfore, in ful conclusion of al this, thilke

Margaryte thou desyrest hath ben to thee dere in thy herte, and

185

for her hast thou suffred many thoughtful diseses; herafter shal

[she] be cause of mokel mirth and joye; and loke how glad canst

thou ben, and cese al thy passed hevinesse with manifolde

joyes. And than wol I as blythly here thee speken thy mirthes

in joye, as I now have y-herd thy sorowes and thy complayntes.

190

And if I mowe in aught thy joye encrese, by my trouthe, on

my syde shal nat be leved for no maner traveyle, that I with

al my mightes right blythly wol helpe, and ever ben redy you

bothe to plese.' And than thanked I that lady with al goodly

[83]

maner that I worthily coude; and trewly I was greetly rejoysed

195

in myne herte of her fayre behestes; and profered me to be

slawe, in al that she me wolde ordeyne, while my lyf lested.

10. ioye; read joyes. 11-3. reason. 14. great. 19. diseases. hertes; read herte. 22. comforte. 24-5. nyghe (twice). 25. soueraine desyre. 27. propertie. 29. desyre. 31. none. 32. breakynge laboure. canne. 35. Onely. 38. soote. 39. respecte.

45. diseases. 51. wretch. thorowe. 53. dare. 53-5. wretches. 56. eare. I supply with. 57. innoctenes; misprint for innocentes. 59. dare. 65. distroyeng. 66. Howe. 71. Fynde. 72. chefe. mote. 73. thynge. 79. do; read to, as in l. 81. 81. Supply it.

88. meanynge. 89. forwarde. 90. leaue. 93. cease. nowe. 99. togyther. 100-1. action (twice). 103. ceasynge. tel. 104. hert. 108. radde toforne. great. 110. sytte. forwarde. 114. comforte. 118. disease comforte.

121. howe. 122. none (twice). 123. mewarde. greatly. 124. comforte. me; read men? 130. wethers; read weders. 132. beautie. 133. yeres; read yere. 136. great. 141. howe. 142. the. 143. greatest. 144. wylte. 145. the. 146. se. reason howe. 147. wote. fal. 150. reason.

162. denomination. 168. be; for by. 169. stante. 172. certayne. 175. Supply in. 177. on (for oon; twice). 178. mote. 181. contygence. 184. the. 185. diseases. 186. Supply she. howe. canste. 187. cease. 188. the. 189. ioy. nowe. yherde. 190. encrease. 191. leaued.

CHAPTER X.

'Me thinketh,' quod I, 'that ye have right wel declared,

that way to the knot shuld not ben in none of these

disprovinge thinges; and now, order of our purpos this asketh,

that ye shulde me shewe if any way be †thider, and whiche

thilke way shulde ben; so that openly may be seye the verry

hye way in ful confusioun of these other thinges.'

'Thou shalt,' quod she, 'understande that [of] one of three

lyves (as I first sayd) every creature of mankynde is sprongen,

and so forth procedeth. These lyves ben thorow names departed

in three maner of kyndes, as bestialliche, manliche, and resonabliche;

of whiche two ben used by flesshely body, and the thirde

by his soule. "Bestial" among resonables is forboden in every

lawe and every secte, bothe in Cristen and other; for every

wight dispyseth hem that liveth by lustes and delytes, as him

that is thral and bounden servaunt to thinges right foule; suche

ben compted werse than men; he shal nat in their degree ben

rekened, ne for suche one alowed. Heritykes, sayn they, chosen

lyf bestial, that voluptuously liven; so that (as I first sayde to

thee) in manly and resonable livinges our mater was to declare;

but [by] "manly" lyfe, in living after flesshe, or els flesshly wayes

to chese, may nat blisse in this knotte be conquered, as by reson

it is proved. Wherfore by "resonable" lyfe he must nedes it

have, sithe a way is to this knotte, but nat by the firste tway lyves;

wherfore nedes mot it ben to the thirde; and for to live in flesshe,

but nat after flessh, is more resonablich than manliche rekened

by clerkes. Therfore how this way cometh in, I wol it blythely

declare.

See now (quod she) that these bodily goodes of manliche

livinges yelden †sorowfulle stoundes and smertande houres. Who-so

†wol remembre him to their endes, in their worchinges they

[84]

ben thoughtful and sorie. Right as a bee that hath had his hony,

anon at his flight beginneth to stinge; so thilke bodily goodes at

the laste mote awaye, and than stinge they at her goinge, wherthrough

entreth and clene voydeth al blisse of this knot.'

'Forsothe,' quod I, 'me thinketh I am wel served, in shewing

of these wordes. Although I hadde litel in respect among other

grete and worthy, yet had I a fair parcel, as me thought, for the

tyme, in forthering of my sustenaunce; whiche while it dured,

I thought me havinge mokel hony to myne estat. I had richesse

suffisauntly to weyve nede; I had dignitè to be reverenced in

worship. Power me thought that I had to kepe fro myne enemyes,

and me semed to shyne in glorie of renomè as manhood asketh

in mene; for no wight in myne administracion coude non yvels

ne trechery by sothe cause on me putte. Lady, your-selve

weten wel, that of tho confederacies maked by my soverains

I nas but a servaunt, and yet mokel mene folk wol fully ayenst

reson thilke maters maynteyne, in whiche mayntenaunce [they]

glorien them-selfe; and, as often ye haven sayd, therof ought

nothing in yvel to be layd to me-wardes, sithen as repentaunt

I am tourned, and no more I thinke, neither tho thinges ne

none suche other to sustene, but utterly distroye, without medlinge

maner, in al my mightes. How am I now cast out of al

swetnesse of blisse, and mischevously [is] stongen my passed

joy! Soroufully muste I bewayle, and live as a wrecche.

Every of tho joyes is tourned in-to his contrary. For richesse,

now have I povertè; for dignitè, now am I emprisoned; in

stede of power, wrecchednesse I suffre; and for glorie of renomè,

I am now dispysed and foulich hated. Thus hath farn Fortune,

that sodaynly am I overthrowen, and out of al welth dispoyled.

Trewly, me thinketh this way in entree is right hard; god graunt

me better grace er it be al passed; the other way, lady, me

thought right swete.'

'Now, certes,' quod Love, 'me list for to chyde. What ayleth

thy darke dulnesse? Wol it nat in clerenesse ben sharped?

Have I nat by many resons to thee shewed, suche bodily goodes

faylen to yeve blisse, their might so ferforth wol nat strecche?

[85]

Shame (quod she) it is to say, thou lyest in thy wordes. Thou

ne hast wist but right fewe that these bodily goodes had al atones;

commenly they dwellen nat togider. He that plentè hath in riches,

of his kinne is ashamed; another of linage right noble and wel

knowe, but povert him handleth; he were lever unknowe.

Another hath these, but renomè of peoples praysing may he nat

have; overal he is hated and defamed of thinges right foule.

Another is fair and semely, but dignitè him fayleth; and he that

hath dignitè is croked or lame, or els misshapen and foully dispysed.

Thus partable these goodes dwellen commenly; in one

houshold ben they but silde. Lo! how wrecched is your truste

on thing that wol nat accorde! Me thinketh, thou clepest thilke

plyte thou were in "selinesse of fortune"; and thou sayest, for

that the selinesse is departed, thou art a wrecch. Than foloweth

this upon thy wordes; every soule resonable of man may nat dye;

and if deth endeth selinesse and maketh wrecches, as nedes of

fortune maketh it an ende. Than soules, after deth of the body,

in wrecchednesse shulde liven. But we knowe many that han

geten the blisse of heven after their deth. How than may this

lyf maken men blisful, that whan it passeth it yeveth no wrecchednesse,

and many tymes blisse, if in this lyfe he con live as he

shulde? And wolt thou acompt with Fortune, that now at [t]he

first she hath don thee tene and sorowe? If thou loke to the

maner of al glad thinges and sorouful, thou mayst nat nay it, that

yet, and namely now, thou standest in noble plyte in a good

ginning, with good forth-going herafter. And if thou wene to be

a wrecch, for such welth is passed, why than art thou nat wel

fortunate, for badde thinges and anguis wrecchednesse ben passed?

Art thou now come first in-to the hostry of this lyfe, or els the

both of this worlde? Art thou now a sodayn gest in-to this

wrecched exile? Wenest there be any thing in this erthe stable?

Is nat thy first arest passed, that brought thee in mortal sorowe?

Ben these nat mortal thinges agon with ignorance of beestial wit,

100

and hast receyved reson in knowing of vertue? What comfort is

in thy herte, the knowinge sikerly in my service [to] be grounded?

And wost thou nat wel, as I said, that deth maketh ende of al

[86]

fortune? What than? Standest thou in noble plyte, litel hede

or recking to take, if thou let fortune passe dy[i]ng, or els that

105

she fly whan her list, now by thy lyve? Pardy, a man hath

nothing so leef as his lyf; and for to holde that, he doth al his

cure and diligent traveyle. Than, say I, thou art blisful and

fortunat sely, if thou knowe thy goodes that thou hast yet

†beleved, whiche nothing may doute that they ne ben more worthy

110

than thy lyf?'

'What is that?' quod I.

'Good contemplacion,' quod she, 'of wel-doing in vertue in tyme

coming, bothe in plesaunce of me and of thy Margarit-peerle.

Hastely thyn hert in ful blisse with her shal be esed. Therfore dismay

115

thee nat; Fortune, in hate grevously ayenst thy bodily person,

ne yet to gret tempest hath she nat sent to thee, sithen the holding

cables and ankers of thy lyfe holden by knitting so faste, that

thou discomforte thee nought of tyme that is now, ne dispayre

thee not of tyme to come, but yeven thee comfort in hope of

120

weldoing, and of getting agayn the double of thy lesing, with

encresing love of thy Margarite-perle therto! For this, hiderto,

thou hast had al her ful daunger; and so thou might amende al

that is misse and al defautes that somtyme thou diddest; and

that now, in al thy tyme, to that ilke Margaryte in ful service of

125

my lore thyne herte hath continued; wherfore she ought moche

the rather enclyne fro her daungerous sete. These thinges ben

yet knit by the holding anker in thy lyve, and holden mote they;

to god I pray, al these thinges at ful ben perfourmed. For whyle

this anker holdeth, I hope thou shalt safely escape; and [in a]

130

whyle thy trewe-mening service aboute bringe, in dispyte of al

false meners that thee of-newe haten; for [in] this trewe service

thou art now entred.'

'Certayn,' quod I, 'among thinges I asked a question, whiche

was the way to the knot. Trewly, lady, how-so it be I tempt you

135

with questions and answers, in speking of my first service, I am

now in ful purpos in the pricke of the herte, that thilke service

was an enprisonment, and alway bad and naughty, in no maner

to be desyred; ne that, in getting of the knot, may it nothing

aveyle. A wyse gentil herte loketh after vertue, and none other

[87]

140

bodily joyes alone. And bycause toforn this in tho wayes I was

set, I wot wel my-selfe I have erred, and of the blisse fayled; and

so out of my way hugely have I ronne.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'that is sothe; and there thou hast miswent,

eschewe the path from hens-forward, I rede. Wonder

145

I trewly why the mortal folk of this worlde seche these ways

outforth; and it is preved in your-selfe. Lo, how ye ben confounded

with errour and folly! The knowing of very cause and way is

goodnesse and vertue. Is there any thing to thee more precious

than thy-selfe? Thou shalt have in thy power that thou woldest

150

never lese, and that in no way may be taken fro thee; and thilke

thing is that is cause of this knot. And if deth mowe it nat reve

more than an erthly creature, thilke thing than abydeth with thy-selfe

soule. And so, our conclusion to make, suche a knot, thus

getten, abydeth with this thinge and with the soule, as long as

155

they laste. A soule dyeth never; vertu and goodnesse evermore

with the soule endureth; and this knot is parfit blisse. Than

this soule in this blisse endlesse shal enduren. Thus shul hertes

of a trewe knot ben esed: thus shul their soules ben plesed: thus

perpetually in joye shul they singe.'

160

'In good trouth,' quod I, 'here is a good beginning; yeve us

more of this way.'

Quod she, 'I said to thee nat longe sithen, that resonable lyf

was oon of three thinges; and it was proved to the soule.

Ch. X. 3. nowe. purpose. 4. thyther. 5. maye be sey. 6. waye. 7. I supply of. 7-10. thre (twice). 9. thorowe. 13. christen. 17. sayne. 18. lyfe. 19. the. lyuenges. 20. Supply by. lyueng. 21. reason. 24. mote. 26. howe. waye. 28. Se nowe. 29. lyuenges. soroufully; read sorowfulle. 30. wele; read wol.

31. hadde. 32. anone. 36. respecte amonge. 37. great. faire. 39. estate. 42. manhode. 43. meane. -tion. 46. meane folke. 47. reason. I supply they. 48. sayde. 49. nothynge. layde. 52. Howe. nowe caste. 53. Supply is. 54. wretche. 56. nowe (thrice). 57. wretchednesse. 58. nowe. 60. entre. harde. 61. ladye. 63. Nowe. 65. reasons. the. 66. ferforthe. stretche.

74. faire. 75. fouly. 77. sylde. howe reetched (!). 80. arte a wretch. 82. dethe. wretches. 83. dethe. 84-6. wretchednesse. 85. dethe. Howe. 86. lyfe. 88. wolte. now. he; read the. 89. done the. 91. nowe. 93. wretch. 94. wretchednesse. 95-6. nowe (twice). 96. sodayne. 97. wretched. thynge. 98. the (sic). 100. reason. comforte. 101. hert. I supply to. 102. woste.

104. rcekyng. dyng (sic). 106. lefe. lyfe. 109. beloued; read beleued. nothynge. 112. contemplation. 114. eased. 115-9. the (five times). 119. comforte. 120. agayne. encreasynge. 129. shalte. Supply in a. 130. meanyng. 131. meaners. the. Supply in. 132. arte nowe. 133. Certayn begins with a large capital C, on fol. 306, verso. amonge. 134. howe. 136. nowe. purpose. 136-9. hert.

140. toforne. 141. sette. wote. 142. ron. 144. pathe. -forwarde. 145. folke. 146. howe. 148. thynge. the. 150. the. 151. dethe. 152. thynge. 155. last. 156. parfite. 158. eased. pleased. 162. the. lyfe. 163. one. thre.

CHAPTER XI.

Every soule of reson hath two thinges of stering lyf, oon in

vertue, and another in the bodily workinge; and whan the

soule is the maister over the body, than is a man maister of him-selfe.

And a man, to be a maister over him-selfe, liveth in vertu and

in goodnesse, and as reson of vertue techeth. So the soule and the

body, worching vertue togider, liven resonable lyf, whiche clerkes

clepen "felicitè in living"; and therein is the hye way to this knot.

These olde philosophers, that hadden no knowing of divine grace,

of kyndly reson alone, wenden that of pure nature, withouten any

[88]

helpe of grace, me might have y-shoned th'other livinges.

Resonably have I lived; and for I thinke herafter, if god wol,

and I have space, thilke grace after my leude knowing declare,

I leve it as at this tyme. But, as I said, he that out-forth loketh

after the wayes of this knot, [his] conning with whiche he shulde

knowe the way in-forth, slepeth for the tyme. Wherfore he that

wol this way knowe, must leve the loking after false wayes out-forth,

and open the eyen of his conscience, and unclose his herte.

Seest nat, he that hath trust in the bodily lyfe is so besy bodily

woundes to anointe, in keping from smert (for al-out may they nat

be heled), that of woundes in his true understanding he taketh no

hede; the knowing evenforth slepeth so harde: but anon, as in

knowing awake, than ginneth the prevy medicynes, for heling of

his trewe intent, inwardes lightly †helen conscience, if it be wel

handled. Than must nedes these wayes come out of the soule

by stering lyfe of the body; and els may no man come to parfit

blisse of this knotte. And thus, by this waye, he shal come to the

knotte, and to the parfit selinesse that he wende have had in

bodily goodes outforth.'

'Ye,' quod I, 'shal he have both knot, riches, power, dignitè,

and renomè in this maner way?'

'Ye,' quod she, 'that shal I shewe thee. Is he nat riche that

hath suffisaunce, and hath the power that no man may amaistrien?

Is nat greet dignitè to have worship and reverence? And hath

he nat glorie of renomè, whos name perpetual is during, and out

of nombre in comparacion?'

'These be thinges that men wenen to getten outforth,' quod I.

'Ye,' quod she; 'they that loken after a thing that nought is

therof, in al ne in partie, longe mowe they gapen after!'

'That is sothe,' quod I.

'Therfore,' quod she, 'they that sechen gold in grene trees, and

wene to gader precious stones among vynes, and layn her nettes

in mountains to fisshe, and thinken to hunte in depe sees after

hart and hynd, and sechen in erth thilke thinges that surmounteth

heven, what may I of hem say, but folisshe ignoraunce misledeth

wandring wrecches by uncouth wayes that shulden be forleten,

and maketh hem blynde fro the right pathe of trewe way that

[89]

shulde ben used? Therfore, in general, errour in mankynde

departeth thilke goodes by mis-seching, whiche he shulde have

hole, and he sought by reson. Thus goth he begyled of that he

sought; in his hode men have blowe a jape.'

'Now,' quod I, 'if a man be vertuous, and al in vertue liveth,

how hath he al these thinges?'

'That shal I proven,' quod she. 'What power hath any man

to lette another of living in vertue? For prisonment, or any

other disese, [if] he take it paciently, discomfiteth he nat; the

tyrant over his soule no power may have. Than hath that man,

so tourmented, suche power, that he nil be discomfit; ne overcome

may he nat ben, sithen pacience in his soule overcometh,

and †is nat overcomen. Suche thing that may nat be a-maistred,

he hath nede to nothing; for he hath suffisaunce y-now, to helpe

him-selfe. And thilke thing that thus hath power and suffisance,

and no tyrant may it reve, and hath dignitè to sette at nought al

thinges, here it is a greet dignitè, that deth may a-maistry. Wherfore

thilke power [with] suffisaunce, so enclosed with dignitè, by

al reson renomè must have. This is thilke riches with suffisaunce

ye sholde loke after; this is thilke worshipful dignitè ye shulde

coveyte; this is thilke power of might, in whiche ye shulde truste;

this is the ilke renomè of glorie that endlesse endureth; and al

nis but substaunce in vertuous lyving.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'al this is sothe; and so I see wel that vertue

with ful gripe encloseth al these thinges. Wherfore in sothe

I may saye, by my trouth, vertue of my Margarite brought me

first in-to your service, to have knitting with that jewel, nat sodain

longinges ne folkes smale wordes, but only our conversacion

togider; and than I, seinge th'entent of her trewe mening with

florisshing vertue of pacience, that she used nothing in yvel, to

quyte the wicked lesinges that false tonges ofte in her have laid,

I have seye it my-selfe, goodly foryevenesse hath spronge out of

her herte. Unitè and accord, above al other thinges, she

desyreth in a good meke maner; and suffereth many wicked

tales.

Trewly, lady, to you it were a gret worship, that suche thinges

by due chastisment were amended.'

[90]

'Ye,' quod she, 'I have thee excused; al suche thinges as yet

mowe nat be redressed; thy Margarites vertue I commende wel

the more, that paciently suche anoyes suffreth. David king was

meke, and suffred mokel hate and many yvel speches; no despyt

ne shame that his enemys him deden might nat move pacience

out of his herte, but ever in one plyte mercy he used. Wherfore

god him-selfe took reward to the thinges; and theron suche

punisshment let falle. Trewly, by reson, it ought be ensample of

drede to al maner peoples mirth. A man vengeable in wrath no

governance in punisshment ought to have. Plato had a cause his

servant to †scourge, and yet cleped he his neibour to performe the

doinge; him-selfe wolde nat, lest wrath had him a-maistred; and

so might he have layd on to moche: evermore grounded vertue

sheweth th'entent fro within. And trewly, I wot wel, for her goodnesse

and vertue, thou hast desyred my service to her plesance

wel the more; and thy-selfe therto fully hast profered.'

100

'Good lady,' quod I, 'is vertue the hye way to this knot that

long we have y-handled?'

'Ye, forsoth,' quod she, 'and without vertue, goodly this knot

may nat be goten.'

'Ah! now I see,' quod I, 'how vertu in me fayleth; and I, as

105

a seer tree, without burjoning or frute, alwaye welke; and

so I stonde in dispeyre of this noble knot; for vertue in me

hath no maner workinge. A! wyde-where aboute have I

traveyled!'

'Pees,' quod she, 'of thy first way; thy traveyle is in ydel;

110

and, as touchinge the seconde way, I see wel thy meninge. Thou

woldest conclude me, if thou coudest, bycause I brought thee

to service; and every of my servantes I helpe to come to this

blisse, as I sayd here-beforn. And thou saydest thy-selfe, thou

mightest nat be holpen as thou wenest, bycause that vertue in

115

thee fayleth; and this blisse parfitly without vertue may nat be

goten; thou wenest of these wordes contradiccion to folowe.

Pardè, at the hardest, I have no servant but he be vertuous in

dede and thought. I brought thee in my service, yet art thou

nat my servant; but I say, thou might so werche in vertue herafter,

120

that than shalt thou be my servant, and as for my servant

[91]

acompted. For habit maketh no monk; ne weringe of gilte

spurres maketh no knight. Never-the-later, in confort of thyne

herte, yet wol I otherwyse answere.'

'Certes, lady,' quod I tho, 'so ye muste nedes; or els I had

125

nigh caught suche a †cardiacle for sorowe, I wot it wel, I shulde

it never have recovered. And therfore now I praye [thee] to

enforme me in this; or els I holde me without recovery. I may

nat long endure til this lesson be lerned, and of this mischeef the

remedy knowen.'

130

'Now,' quod she, 'be nat wroth; for there is no man on-lyve

that may come to a precious thing longe coveited, but he somtyme

suffre teneful diseses: and wenest thy-selfe to ben unliche to al

other? That may nat ben. And with the more sorowe that

a thing is getten, the more he hath joye the ilke thing afterwardes

135

to kepe; as it fareth by children in scole, that for lerninge arn

beten, whan their lesson they foryetten. Commenly, after a good

disciplyning with a yerde, they kepe right wel doctrine of their

scole.'

Ch. XI. 1. euery (with small e). reason. lyfe. one. 6. lyfe. 7. lyueng. 9. reason.

10. thother lyuenges. 13. leaue. 14. I supply his. 16. leaue. 19. anoynt. 20. healed. 22. healyng. 23. healeth; read helen. 25. maye. parfite. 27. parfyte. 30. waye. 31. the. 33. great. 34. whose. 35. comparation. 37. thynge. 40. golde. 41. amonge. layne. 42. hunt. 43. hynde. 45. wretches.

48. mysse. 49. reason. 51. Nowe. 52. howe. 54. let. lyueng. 55. I supply if. 56. maye. 59. as; read is. 60. ynowe. 63. great. 64. I supply with. 67. coueyt. 69. lyueng. 70. se. 74. onely. conversation. 75. thentent. 76. nothynge. 77. leasynges. layde. 78. sey. 79. hert. accorde. 82. Trewly (with large capital T).

84. the. 87. dispite. 89. Werfore. 90. toke rewarde. 91. fal. reason. 94. scoure (!); read scourge. 96. layde. 97. thentent. wotte. 99. haste. 100. waye. 104. nowe I se. howe. 105. tre. 109. Peace. 110. se. meanyng. 111. the. 112. one. 113. beforne. 114. wenyst. 115. the. maye. 116. contradiction. 118. the. arte.

121. habyte. monke. wearynge. 122. conforte. 125. nyghe. cordiacle; read cardiacle. wotte. 126. nowe. I supply thee. 127. recouerye. 128. mischefe. 130. Nowe. wrothe. 131. maye. 132. diseases. wenyst. 133. maye. 134. thynge. 135. schole. arne. 136. beaten. 138. schole.

CHAPTER XII.

Right with these wordes, on this lady I threw up myne eyen,

to see her countenaunce and her chere; and she, aperceyving

this fantasye in myne herte, gan her semblaunt goodly on me

caste, and sayde in this wyse.

'It is wel knowe, bothe to reson and experience in doinge,

every active worcheth on his passive; and whan they ben togider,

"active" and "passive" ben y-cleped by these philosophers. If

fyr be in place chafinge thing able to be chafed or hete[d], and

thilke thinges ben set in suche a distaunce that the oon may

werche, the other shal suffre. Thilke Margarite thou desyrest is

ful of vertue, and able to be active in goodnesse: but every herbe

sheweth his vertue outforth from within. The sonne yeveth light,

that thinges may be seye. Every fyr heteth thilke thing that it

†neigheth, and it be able to be hete[d]. Vertue of this Margarite

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outforth †wercheth; and nothing is more able to suffre worching,

or worke cacche of the actife, but passife of the same actife; and

no passife, to vertues of this Margaryte, but thee, in al my Donet

can I fynde! So that her vertue muste nedes on thee werche;

in what place ever thou be, within distaunce of her worthinesse,

as her very passife thou art closed. But vertue may thee nothing

profyte, but thy desyr be perfourmed, and al thy sorowes cesed.

Ergo, through werchinge of her vertue thou shalt esely ben

holpen, and driven out of al care, and welcome to this longe by

thee desyred!'

'Lady,' quod I, 'this is a good lesson in ginning of my joye;

but wete ye wel forsothe, though I suppose she have moche

vertue, I wolde my spousaile were proved, and than may I live

out of doute, and rejoice me greetly, in thinking of tho vertues

so shewed.'

'I herde thee saye,' quod she, 'at my beginning, whan I receyved

thee firste for to serve, that thy jewel, thilke Margaryte thou

desyrest, was closed in a muskle with a blewe shel.'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod I; 'so I sayd; and so it is.'

'Wel,' quod she, 'every-thing kyndly sheweth it-selfe; this

jewel, closed in a blewe shel, [by] excellence of coloures sheweth

vertue from within; and so every wight shulde rather loke to the

propre vertue of thinges than to his forayne goodes. If a thing

be engendred of good mater, comenly and for the more part, it

foloweth, after the congelement, vertue of the first mater (and

it be not corrupt with vyces) to procede with encrees of good

vertues; eke right so it fareth of badde. Trewly, greet excellence

in vertue of linage, for the more part, discendeth by kynde to

the succession in vertues to folowe. Wherfore I saye, the †colour

of every Margarit sheweth from within the fynesse in vertue.

Kyndely heven, whan mery †weder is a-lofte, apereth in mannes

eye of coloure in blewe, stedfastnesse in pees betokening within

and without. Margaryte is engendred by hevenly dewe, and

sheweth in it-selfe, by fynenesse of colour, whether the engendrure

were maked on morowe or on eve; thus sayth kynde of this

perle. This precious Margaryte that thou servest, sheweth it-selfe

discended, by nobley of vertue, from this hevenlich dewe, norisshed

[93]

and congeled in mekenesse, that †moder is of al vertues; and, by

werkes that men seen withouten, the significacion of the coloures

ben shewed, mercy and pitee in the herte, with pees to al other;

and al this is y-closed in a muskle, who-so redily these vertues

loken. Al thing that hath soule is reduced in-to good by mene thinges,

as thus: In-to god man is reduced by soules resonable; and so

forth beestes, or bodyes that mowe not moven, after place ben

reduced in-to manne by beestes †mene that moven from place to

place. So that thilke bodyes that han felinge soules, and move

not from places, holden the lowest degree of soulinge thinges in

felinge; and suche ben reduced in-to man by menes. So it

foloweth, the muskle, as †moder of al vertues, halt the place of

mekenesse, to his lowest degree discendeth downe of heven, and

there, by a maner of virgine engendrure, arn these Margarytes

engendred, and afterward congeled. Made not mekenesse so

lowe the hye heven, to enclose and cacche out therof so noble

a dewe, that after congelement, a Margaryte, with endelesse vertue

and everlasting joy, was with ful vessel of grace yeven to every

creature, that goodly wolde it receyve?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'these thinges ben right noble; I have er this

herd these same sawes.'

'Than,' quod she, 'thou wost wel these thinges ben sothe?'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod I, 'at the ful.'

'Now,' quod she, 'that this Margaryte is ful of vertue, it is wel

proved; wherfore som grace, som mercy, among other vertues,

I wot right wel, on thee shal discende?'

'Ye,' quod I; 'yet wolde I have better declared, vertues in this

Margarite kyndely to ben grounded.'

'That shal I shew thee,' quod she, 'and thou woldest it lerne.'

'Lerne?' quod I, 'what nedeth suche wordes? Wete ye nat

wel, lady, your-selfe, that al my cure, al my diligence, and al my

might, have turned by your counsayle, in plesaunce of that perle?

Al my thought and al my studye, with your helpe, desyreth, in

worshippe [of] thilke jewel, to encrese al my travayle and al my

besinesse in your service, this Margaryte to gladde in some halve.

Me were lever her honour, her plesaunce, and her good chere

[94]

thorow me for to be mayntayned and kept, and I of suche thinge

in her lykinge to be cause, than al the welthe of bodily goodes ye

coude recken. And wolde never god but I putte my-selfe in

greet jeopardy of al that I †welde, (that is now no more but

my lyf alone), rather than I shulde suffre thilke jewel in any

pointe ben blemisshed; as ferre as I may suffre, and with my

mightes strecche.'

'Suche thing,' quod she, 'may mokel further thy grace, and

thee in my service avaunce. But now (quod Love) wilt thou

graunte me thilke Margaryte to ben good?'

'O! good †god,' quod I, 'why tempte ye me and tene with

suche maner speche? I wolde graunt that, though I shulde anon

100

dye; and, by my trouthe, fighte in the quarel, if any wight wolde

countreplede.'

'It is so moche the lighter,' quod Love, 'to prove our entent.'

'Ye,' quod I; 'but yet wolde I here how ye wolde prove that

she were good by resonable skil, that it mowe not ben denyed.

105

For although I knowe, and so doth many other, manifold goodnesse

and vertue in this Margaryte ben printed, yet some men

there ben that no goodnesse speken; and, wher-ever your wordes

ben herd and your resons ben shewed, suche yvel spekers, lady,

by auctoritè of your excellence, shullen be stopped and ashamed!

110

And more, they that han non aquayntaunce in her persone, yet

mowe they knowe her vertues, and ben the more enfourmed in

what wyse they mowe sette their hertes, whan hem liste in-to your

service any entree make. For trewly al this to beginne, I wot

wel my-selfe that thilke jewel is so precious perle, as a womanly

115

woman in her kynde; in whom of goodnesse, of vertue, and also

of answeringe shappe of limmes, and fetures so wel in al pointes

acording, nothing fayleth. I leve that kynde her made with greet

studye; for kynde in her person nothing hath foryet[en], and that

is wel sene. In every good wightes herte she hath grace of

120

commending and of vertuous praysing. Alas! that ever kynde

made her deedly! Save only in that, I wot wel, that Nature,

in fourminge of her, in no-thinge hath erred.'

Ch. XII. 1. threwe. 2. se. 5. Reason. 7. ycleaped. 8. fyre. thynge. hete; read heted. 9. sette. one. 12. outforthe. 13. sey. fyre. 14. neighed; read neigheth. hete; read heted.

15. wrethe (!); read wercheth. nothynge. 16. catche. 17-8. the (twice). 20. arte. the. 21. desyre. ceased. 22. shalte easely. 24. the. 26. thoughe. 27. maye. 28. greatly. 30. the say. 31. the. 35. Supply by. 38. parte. 40. encrease. 41. great. 42. parte. 43. colours; read colour. 45. wether; read weder. 46. peace. 48. coloure.

52, 63. mother; read moder. 53. sene. signification. 54. pytie. 56. meane. 58. forthe. 59. meue; misprint for mene. mouyn. 62. meanes. 63. halte. 65. arne. 66. afterwarde. 67. catche. 72. herde. 73. woste. 75. Nowe. 76. some (twice). amonge. 77. wotte. 77, 80. the (twice). 85. I supply of. encrease. 87. leauer. pleasaunce.

88. thorowe. kepte. 90. put. 91. great ieoperdye. wolde; read welde. nowe. lyfe. 94. stretche. 95. maye. 96. the. nowe. wylte. 98. good good; read good god. 99. thoughe. anone. 100. fyght. 103. howe. 104. reasonable. 105. dothe. 108. herde. reasons. 110. none. 113. entre. wote. 115. whome. 117. nothynge. great. 118. foryet. 121. onely.

CHAPTER XIII.

'Certes,' quod Love, 'thou hast wel begonne; and I aske

thee this question: Is not, in general, every-thing good?'

'I not,' quod I.

'No?' quod she; '†saw not god everything that he made, and

weren right good?'

'Than is wonder,' quod I, 'how yvel thinges comen a-place,

sithen that al thinges weren right good.'

'Thus,' quod she, 'I wol declare. Everiche qualitè and every

accion, and every thing that hath any maner of beinge, it is of

god; and god it made, of whom is al goodnesse and al being.

Of him is no badnesse. Badde to be, is naught; good to be,

is somwhat; and therfore good and being is oon in

understanding.'

'How may this be?' quod I. 'For often han shrewes me

assailed, and mokel badnesse therin have I founden; and so me

semeth bad to be somwhat in kynde.'

'Thou shalt,' quod she, 'understande that suche maner badnesse,

whiche is used to purifye wrong-doers, is somwhat; and god it

made, and being [it] hath; and that is good. Other badnesse no

being hath utterly; it is in the negative of somwhat, and that is

naught and nothing being. The parties essential of being arn

sayd in double wyse, as that it is; and these parties ben founde

in every creature. For al thing, a this halfe the first being, is

being through participacion, taking partie of being; so that [in]

every creature is difference bitwene being of him through whom

it is, and his own being. Right as every good is a maner of

being, so is it good thorow being; for it is naught other to be.

And every thing, though it be good, is not of him-selfe good;

but it is good by that it is ordinable to the greet goodnesse.

This dualitè, after clerkes †determinison, is founden in every

creature, be it never so single of onhed.'

'Ye,' quod I; 'but there-as it is y-sayd that god †saw every-thing

of his making, and [they] were right good (as your-selfe

sayd to me not longe tyme sithen), I aske whether every creature

[96]

is y-sayd "good" through goodnesse unfourmed eyther els fourmed;

and afterward, if it be accept utterly good?'

'I shal say thee,' quod she. 'These grete passed clerkes han

devyded good in-to good being alone, and that is nothing but

†god, for nothing is good in that wyse but god: also, in good by

participacion, and that is y-cleped "good" for far fet and

representative of †godly goodnesse. And after this maner manyfold

good is sayd, that is to saye, good in kynde, and good in gendre,

and good of grace, and good of joy. Of good in kynde Austen

sayth, "al that ben, ben good." But peraunter thou woldest

wete, whether of hem-selfe it be good, or els of anothers goodnesse:

for naturel goodnesse of every substaunce is nothing els than his

substancial being, which is y-cleped "goodnesse" after comparison

that he hath to his first goodnesse, so as it is inductatife by menes

in-to the first goodnesse. Boece sheweth this thing at the ful, that

this name "good" is, in general, name in kynde, as it is comparisoned

generally to his principal ende, which is god, knotte of

al goodnesse. Every creature cryeth "god us made"; and so

they han ful apeted to thilke god by affeccion such as to hem

longeth; and in this wyse al thinges ben good of the gret god,

which is good alone.'

'This wonder thing,' quod I, 'how ye have by many resons

proved my first way to be errour and misgoing, and cause[d] of

badnesse and feble meninge in the grounde ye aleged to be roted.

Whence is it that suche badnesse hath springes, sithen al thinges

thus in general ben good, and badnesse hath no being, as ye have

declared? I wene, if al things ben good, I might than with the

first way in that good have ended, and so by goodnesse have comen

to blisse in your service desyred.'

'Al thing,' quod she, 'is good by being in participacion out of

the firste goodnesse, whiche goodnesse is corrupt by badnesse

and badde-mening maners. God hath [ordeyned] in good thinges,

that they ben good by being, and not in yvel; for there is absence

of rightful love. For badnesse is nothing but only yvel wil of the

user, and through giltes of the doer; wherfore, at the ginninge of

the worlde, every thing by him-selfe was good; and in universal

they weren right good. An eye or a hand is fayrer and betterer

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in a body set, in his kyndely place, than from the body dissevered.

Every thing in his kyndly place, being kyndly, good doth werche;

and, out of that place voyded, it dissolveth and is defouled him-selve.

Our noble god, in gliterande wyse, by armony this world

ordeyned, as in purtreytures storied with colours medled, in

whiche blacke and other derke colours commenden the golden

and the asured paynture; every put in kyndely place, oon, besyde

another, more for other glitereth. Right so litel fayr maketh

right fayr more glorious; and right so, of goodnesse, and of other

thinges in vertue. Wherfore other badde and not so good perles

as this Margaryte that we han of this matier, yeven by the ayre

litel goodnesse and litel vertue, [maken] right mokel goodnesse

and vertue in thy Margaryte to ben proved, in shyning wyse to be

founde and shewed. How shulde ever goodnesse of pees have

ben knowe, but-if unpees somtyme reigne, and mokel yvel †wrathe?

How shulde mercy ben proved, and no trespas were, by due

justification, to be punisshed? Therfore grace and goodnesse of

a wight is founde; the sorouful hertes in good meninge to endure,

ben comforted; unitè and acord bitwene hertes knit in joye to

abyde. What? wenest thou I rejoyce or els accompte him among

my servauntes that pleseth Pallas in undoinge of Mercurye, al-be-it

that to Pallas he be knit by tytle of lawe, not according to

resonable conscience, and Mercurie in doinge have grace to ben

suffered; or els him that †weyveth the moone for fayrenesse of

the eve-sterre? Lo! otherwhyle by nightes, light of the moone

greetly comforteth in derke thoughtes and blynde. Understanding

of love yeveth greet gladnesse. Who-so list not byleve, whan

a sothe tale is shewed, a dewe and a deblys his name is entred.

100

Wyse folk and worthy in gentillesse, bothe of vertue and of

livinge, yeven ful credence in sothnesse of love with a good herte,

there-as good evidence or experience in doinge sheweth not the

contrarie. Thus mightest thou have ful preef in thy Margarytes

goodnesse, by commendement of other jewels badnesse and

105

yvelnesse in doing. Stoundemele diseses yeveth several houres

in joye.'

'Now, by my trouthe,' quod I, 'this is wel declared, that my

[98]

Margaryte is good; for sithen other ben good, and she passeth

manye other in goodnesse and vertue; wherthrough, by maner

110

necessarie, she muste be good. And goodnesse of this Margaryte

is nothing els but vertue; wherfore she is vertuous; and if there

fayled any vertue in any syde, there were lacke of vertue. Badde

nothing els is, ne may be, but lacke and want of good and goodnesse;

and so shulde she have that same lacke, that is to saye,

115

badde; and that may not be. For she is good; and that is good,

me thinketh, al good; and so, by consequence, me semeth, vertuous,

and no lacke of vertue to have. But the sonne is not knowe but

he shyne; ne vertuous herbes, but they have her kynde werchinge;

ne vertue, but it strecche in goodnesse or profyt to another, is no

120

vertue. Than, by al wayes of reson, sithen mercy and pitee ben

moste commended among other vertues, and they might never ben

shewed, [unto] refresshement of helpe and of comfort, but now

at my moste nede; and that is the kynde werkinge of these

vertues; trewly, I wene, I shal not varye from these helpes. Fyr,

125

and-if he yeve non hete, for fyre is not demed. The sonne, but

he shyne, for sonne is not accompted. Water, but it wete, the

name shal ben chaunged. Vertue, but it werche, of goodnesse

doth it fayle; and in-to his contrarie the name shal ben reversed.

And these ben impossible; wherfore the contradictorie, that is

130

necessarye, nedes muste I leve.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'in thy person and out of thy mouthe these

wordes lyen wel to ben said, and in thyne understanding to be

leved, as in entent of this Margaryte alone. And here now my

speche in conclusion of these wordes.

Ch. XIII. 1. haste. 2, 4. thynge. 4. saue; read saw. 5. werne. 6. howe. 9. action. 12. one. 14. Howe. 18. wronge. 19. I supply it. 21. arne. 24. I supply in. and of; I omit and. 27. thorowe. 29. great. determission (!); read determinison. 32. ysayde. saue; read saw. 33. I supply they.

35. ysayde. 36. afterwarde. accepte. 37. the. great. 39. good; read god. 40. farre fette. 41. goodly; read godly. manyfolde. 44. saythe. 47. ycleaped. 48. meanes. 53. affection. 56. howe. reasons. 57. waye. cause; read caused. 59. baddesse (!). 65. corrupte. 66. meanynge. I supply ordeyned. 68. nothynge. onely. 71. werne. hande.

72. sette. disceuered. 73. dothe. 75. worlde. 78. putte. one. 79. lytle fayre. 80. fayre. 83. Supply maken. 85. Howe. peace. 86. vnpeace. wrothe; read wrathe. 87. Howe. trespeace (!). 89. meanynge. 90. acorde. knytte. 91. amonge. 92. pleaseth. 93. knytte. 94. reasonable. 95. weneth; read weyveth. 97. greatly. 98. great. lyste. 99. adewe. 100. folke. 101. hert. 103. prefe. 105. diseases. 107. Nowe.

109. wherthroughe. 111. no thynge. 113. wante. 115. maye. 119. stretche. profyte. 120. reason. pytie. 121. amonge. 122. Supply unto. comforte. nowe. 124. Fyre. 125. none heate. 128. dothe. 133. nowe.

CHAPTER XIV.

In these thinges,' quod she, 'that me list now to shewe

openly, shal be founde the mater of thy sicknesse, and

what shal ben the medicyn that may be thy sorowes lisse and

comfort, as wel thee as al other that amisse have erred and out of

the way walked, so that any drope of good wil in amendement

[may] ben dwelled in their hertes. Proverbes of Salomon openly

techeth, how somtyme an innocent walkid by the way in

[99]

blyndnesse of a derke night; whom mette a woman (if it be leefly to

saye) as a strumpet arayed, redily purveyed in turninge of

thoughtes with veyne janglinges, and of rest inpacient, by

dissimulacion of my termes, saying in this wyse: "Com, and be we

dronken of our swete pappes; use we coveitous collinges." And

thus drawen was this innocent, as an oxe to the larder.'

'Lady,' quod I, 'to me this is a queynte thing to understande;

I praye you, of this parable declare me the entent.'

'This innocent,' quod she, 'is a scoler lerninge of my lore, in

seching of my blisse, in whiche thinge the day of his thought

turning enclyneth in-to eve; and the sonne, of very light faylinge,

maketh derke night in his conninge. Thus in derknesse of many

doutes he walketh, and for blyndenesse of understandinge, he ne

wot in what waye he is in; forsothe, suche oon may lightly ben

begyled. To whom cam love fayned, not clothed of my livery,

but [of] unlefful lusty habit, with softe speche and mery; and

with fayre honyed wordes heretykes and mis-meninge people

skleren and wimplen their errours. Austen witnesseth of an

heretyk, that in his first beginninge he was a man right expert

in resons and swete in his wordes; and the werkes miscorden.

Thus fareth fayned love in her firste werchinges. Thou knowest

these thinges for trewe; thou hast hem proved by experience

somtyme, in doing to thyne owne person; in whiche thing thou hast

founde mater of mokel disese. Was not fayned love redily

purveyed, thy wittes to cacche and tourne thy good thoughtes?

Trewly, she hath wounded the conscience of many with florisshinge

of mokel jangling wordes; and good worthe thanked I it for

no glose. I am glad of my prudence thou hast so manly her

†weyved. To me art thou moche holden, that in thy kynde

course of good mening I returne thy mynde. I trowe, ne had

I shewed thee thy Margaryte, thou haddest never returned. Of

first in good parfit joye was ever fayned love impacient, as the

water of Siloë, whiche evermore floweth with stilnesse and privy

noyse til it come nighe the brinke, and than ginneth it so out of

mesure to bolne, with novelleries of chaunging stormes, that in

course of every renning it is in pointe to spille al his circuit of

†bankes. Thus fayned love prively, at the fullest of his flowinge,

[100]

[ginneth] newe stormes [of] debat to arayse. And al-be-it that

Mercurius [servants] often with hole understandinge knowen

suche perillous maters, yet Veneriens so lusty ben and so leude

in their wittes, that in suche thinges right litel or naught don

they fele; and wryten and cryen to their felawes: "here is blisse,

here is joye"; and thus in-to one same errour mokel folk they

drawen. "Come," they sayen, "and be we dronken of our

pappes"; that ben fallas and lying glose, of whiche mowe they not

souke milke of helthe, but deedly venim and poyson, corrupcion

of sorowe. Milke of fallas is venim of disceyt; milke of lying glose

is venim of corrupcion. Lo! what thing cometh out of these

pappes! "Use we coveited collinges"; desyre we and meddle we false

wordes with sote, and sote with false! Trewly, this is the sorinesse

of fayned love; nedes, of these surfettes sicknesse muste

folowe. Thus, as an oxe, to thy langoring deth were thou drawen;

the sote of the smoke hath thee al defased. Ever the deper thou

somtyme wadest, the soner thou it founde; if it had thee killed,

it had be litel wonder. But on that other syde, my trewe

servaunt[s] not faynen ne disceyve conne; sothly, their doinge

is open; my foundement endureth, be the burthen never so

greet; ever in one it lasteth. It yeveth lyf and blisful goodnesse

in the laste endes, though the ginninges ben sharpe. Thus of

two contraries, contrarye ben the effectes. And so thilke

Margaryte thou servest shal seen thee, by her service out of

perillous tribulacion delivered, bycause of her service in-to newe

disese fallen, by hope of amendement in the laste ende, with joye

to be gladded. Wherfore, of kynde pure, her mercy with grace

of good helpe shal she graunte; and els I shal her so strayne,

that with pitè shal she ben amaystred. Remembre in thyne

herte how horribly somtyme to thyne Margaryte thou trespasest,

and in a grete wyse ayenst her thou forfeytest! Clepe ayen thy

mynde, and know thyne owne giltes. What goodnesse, what

bountee, with mokel folowing pitè founde thou in that tyme?

Were thou not goodly accepted in-to grace? By my pluckinge

was she to foryevenesse enclyned. And after, I her styred to

drawe thee to house; and yet wendest thou utterly for ever

have ben refused. But wel thou wost, sithen that I in suche

[101]

sharpe disese might so greetly avayle, what thinkest in thy wit?

How fer may my wit strecche? And thou lache not on thy syde,

I wol make the knotte. Certes, in thy good bering I wol acorde

with the psauter: "I have founde David in my service true, and

with holy oyle of pees and of rest, longe by him desyred, utterly

he shal be anoynted." Truste wel to me, and I wol thee not

fayle. The †leving of the first way with good herte of continuance

that I see in thee grounded, this purpose to parfourme, draweth

me by maner of constrayning, that nedes muste I ben thyne helper.

Although mirthe a whyle be taried, it shal come at suche seson,

that thy thought shal ben joyed. And wolde never god, sithen

thyne herte to my resons arn assented, and openly hast confessed

thyne amisse-going, and now cryest after mercy, but-if mercy

folowed; thy blisse shal ben redy, y-wis; thou ne wost how sone.

Now be a good child, I rede. The kynde of vertues, in thy

Margaryte rehersed, by strength of me in thy person shul werche.

Comfort thee in this; for thou mayst not miscary.' And these

wordes sayd, she streyght her on length, and rested a whyle.

¶ Thus endeth the seconde book, and here after foloweth

the thirde book.

8. lefely. 11. sayeng. Come. 14. thynge. 16. scholer. 17. daye. 21. wote. one. 22. whome came. 23. Supply of. unleful lustye habyte. 24. misse-. 26. heretyke. experte. 27. resones. 29. haste. 32. catche. 35. gladde. 36. veyned; read weyved. arte. 37. meanyng. 38. the. 39. parfyte. 42. measure. 43. spyl. 44. cankes (!); read bankes.

45. I supply ginneth and of. debate. 46. I supply servants. 51. sayne. 52-4. lyeng. 54. disceyte. 55. thynge. 58. must. 60. the. 61. the. 63. seruaunt. 65. great. lyfe. 68. sene the. 70, 82. disease. 72. graunt. 74. howe. 75. great. 76. knowe. 77. bountie. 80. the.

82. greatly. 83. howe ferre maye my wytte stretche. 86. peace. 87. the. 88. leanyng (!). 89. se. the. 93. reasones arne. haste. 94. nowe. 96. chylde. 98. Comforte the. 99. sayde. Colophon. booke. boke.

BOOK III.

CHAPTER I.

Of nombre, sayn these clerkes, that it is naturel somme of

discrete thinges, as in tellinge oon, two, three, and so forth;

but among al nombres, three is determined for moste certayn.

Wherfore in nombre certayn this werk of my besy leudenesse

I thinke to ende and parfourme. Ensample by this worlde, in

three tymes is devyded; of whiche the first is cleped †Deviacion,

that is to say, going out of trewe way; and al that tho dyeden, in

helle were they punisshed for a man[ne]s sinne, til grace and mercy

fette hem thence, and there ended the firste tyme. The seconde

tyme lasteth from the comming of merciable grace until the ende

of transitorie tyme, in whiche is shewed the true way in fordoinge

of the badde; and that is y-cleped tyme of Grace. And that

[102]

thing is not yeven by desert of yeldinge oon benefyt for another,

but only through goodnesse of the yever of grace in thilke tyme.

Who-so can wel understande is shapen to be saved in souled

blisse. The thirde tyme shal ginne whan transitorie thinges of

worldes han mad their ende; and that shal ben in Joye, glorie, and

rest, both body and soule, that wel han deserved in the tyme of

Grace. And thus in that heven †togider shul they dwelle perpetuelly,

without any imaginatyfe yvel in any halve. These

tymes are figured by tho three dayes that our god was closed

in erthe; and in the thirde aroos, shewing our resurreccion to

joye and blisse of tho that it deserven, by his merciable grace.

So this leude book, in three maters, accordaunt to tho tymes,

lightly by a good inseër may ben understonde; as in the firste,

Errour of misse-goinge is shewed, with sorowful pyne punisshed,

†that cryed after mercy. In the seconde, is Grace in good waye

proved, whiche is faylinge without desert, thilke first misse

amendinge, in correccion of tho erroures, and even way to bringe,

with comfort of welfare in-to amendement wexinge. And in the

thirde, Joye and blisse graunted to him that wel can deserve it,

and hath savour of understandinge in the tyme of grace. Thus

in Joye, of my thirde boke, shal the mater be til it ende.

But special cause I have in my herte to make this proces

of a Margarit-perle, that is so precious a gemme †whyt, clere and

litel, of whiche stones or jewel[les] the tonges of us Englissh

people tourneth the right names, and clepeth hem 'Margery-perles';

thus varieth our speche from many other langages. For

trewly Latin, Frenche, and many mo other langages clepeth hem,

Margery-perles, [by] the name 'Margarites,' or 'Margarite-perles';

wherfore in that denominacion I wol me acorde to other mens

tonges, in that name-cleping. These clerkes that treten of kyndes,

and studien out the propertee there of thinges, sayn: the Margarite

is a litel whyt perle, throughout holowe and rounde and

vertuous; and on the see-sydes, in the more Britayne, in

muskle-shelles, of the hevenly dewe, the best ben engendred; in whiche

by experience ben founde three fayre vertues. Oon is, it yeveth

comfort to the feling spirites in bodily persones of reson. Another

[103]

is good; it is profitable helthe ayenst passions of sorie mens hertes.

And the thirde, it is nedeful and noble in staunching of bloode,

there els to moche wolde out renne. To whiche perle and vertues

me list to lyken at this tyme Philosophie, with her three speces,

that is, natural, and moral, and resonable; of whiche thinges

hereth what sayn these grete clerkes. Philosophie is knowing of

devynly and manly thinges joyned with studie of good living;

and this stant in two thinges, that is, conninge and opinion.

Conninge is whan a thing by certayn reson is conceyved. But

wrecches and fooles and leude men, many wil conceyve a thing

and mayntayne it as for sothe, though reson be in the contrarye;

wherfore conninge is a straunger. Opinion is whyl a thing is in

non-certayn, and hid from mens very knowleging, and by no parfit

reson fully declared, as thus: if the sonne be so mokel as men

wenen, or els if it be more than the erthe. For in sothnesse the

certayn quantitè of that planet is unknowen to erthly dwellers; and

yet by opinion of some men it is holden for more than midle-erth.

The first spece of philosophie is naturel; whiche in kyndely

thinges †treteth, and sheweth causes of heven, and strength of

kyndely course; as by arsmetrike, geometry, musike, and by

astronomye techeth wayes and cours of hevens, of planetes, and

of sterres aboute heven and erthe, and other elementes.

The seconde spece is moral, whiche, in order, of living maners

techeth; and by reson proveth vertues of soule moste worthy in

our living; whiche ben prudence, justice, temperaunce, and

strength. Prudence is goodly wisdom in knowing of thinges.

Strength voideth al adversitees aliche even. Temperaunce distroyeth

beestial living with esy bering. And Justice rightfully

jugeth; and juging departeth to every wight that is his owne.

The thirde spece turneth in-to reson of understanding; al

thinges to be sayd soth and discussed; and that in two thinges is

devyded. Oon is art, another is rethorike; in whiche two al

lawes of mans reson ben grounded or els maintayned.

And for this book is of Love, and therafter bereth his name,

and philosophie and lawe muste here-to acorden by their clergial

discripcions, as: philosophie for love of wisdom is declared, lawe

for mainteynaunce of pees is holden: and these with love must

nedes acorden; therfore of hem in this place have I touched.

[104]

Ordre of homly thinges and honest maner of livinge in vertue,

with rightful jugement in causes and profitable administracion in

comminaltees of realmes and citees, by evenhed profitably to

raigne, nat by singuler avauntage ne by privè envy, ne by soleyn

purpos in covetise of worship or of goodes, ben disposed in open

rule shewed, by love, philosophy, and lawe, and yet love, toforn

al other. Wherfore as sustern in unitè they accorden, and oon

ende, that is, pees and rest, they causen norisshinge; and in the

joye maynteynen to endure.

Now than, as I have declared: my book acordeth with discripcion

of three thinges; and the Margarit in vertue is lykened

to Philosophy, with her three speces. In whiche maters ever

twey ben acordaunt with bodily reson, and the thirde with the

100

soule. But in conclusion of my boke and of this Margarite-perle

in knittinge togider, Lawe by three sondrye maners shal be lykened;

that is to saye, lawe, right, and custome, whiche I wol declare.

Al that is lawe cometh of goddes ordinaunce, by kyndly worching;

and thilke thinges ordayned by mannes wittes arn y-cleped right,

105

which is ordayned by many maners and in constitucion written.

But custome is a thing that is accepted for right or for lawe,

there-as lawe and right faylen; and there is no difference, whether

it come of scripture or of reson. Wherfore it sheweth, that lawe

is kyndly governaunce; right cometh out of mannes probable

110

reson; and custome is of commen usage by length of tyme

used; and custome nat writte is usage; and if it be writte,

constitucion it is y-written and y-cleped. But lawe of kynde is

commen to every nation, as conjunccion of man and woman in

love, succession of children in heritance, restitucion of thing

115

by strength taken or lent; and this lawe among al other halt

the soveraynest gree in worship; whiche lawe began at the

beginning of resonable creature; it varied yet never for no

chaunging of tyme. Cause, forsothe, in ordayning of lawe was to

constrayne mens hardinesse in-to pees, and withdrawing his yvel

120

wil, and turning malice in-to goodnesse; and that innocence

sikerly, withouten teneful anoye, among shrewes safely might

inhabite by proteccion of safe-conducte, so that the shrewes, harm

[105]

for harme, by brydle of ferdnesse shulden restrayne. But forsothe,

in kyndely lawe, nothing is commended but such as goddes

125

wil hath confirmed, ne nothing denyed but contrarioustee of

goddes wil in heven. Eke than al lawes, or custome, or els

constitucion by usage or wryting, that contraryen lawe of kynde,

utterly ben repugnaunt and adversarie to our goddes wil of heven.

Trewly, lawe of kynde for goddes own lusty wil is verily to

130

mayntayne; under whiche lawe (and unworthy) bothe professe

and reguler arn obediencer and bounden to this Margarite-perle

as by knotte of loves statutes and stablisshment in kynde, whiche

that goodly may not be withsetten. Lo! under this bonde am

I constrayned to abyde; and man, under living lawe ruled, by that

135

lawe oweth, after desertes, to ben rewarded by payne or by mede,

but-if mercy weyve the payne. So than †by part resonfully may

be seye, that mercy bothe right and lawe passeth. Th' entent

of al these maters is the lest clere understanding, to weten, at

th'ende of this thirde boke; ful knowing, thorow goddes grace,

140

I thinke to make neverthelater. Yet if these thinges han a good

and a †sleigh inseër, whiche that can souke hony of the harde

stone, oyle of the drye rocke, [he] may lightly fele nobley of mater

in my leude imaginacion closed. But for my book shal be of

joye (as I sayd), and I [am] so fer set fro thilke place fro whens

145

gladnesse shulde come; my corde is to short to lete my boket

ought cacche of that water; and fewe men be abouten my corde

to eche, and many in ful purpos ben redy it shorter to make, and

to enclose th' entrè, that my boket of joye nothing shulde cacche,

but empty returne, my careful sorowes to encrese: (and if I dye

150

for payne, that were gladnesse at their hertes): good lord, send

me water in-to the cop of these mountayns, and I shal drinke

therof, my thurstes to stanche, and sey, these be comfortable

welles; in-to helth of goodnesse of my saviour am I holpen. And

yet I saye more, the house of joye to me is nat opened. How

155

dare my sorouful goost than in any mater of gladnesse thinken to

trete? For ever sobbinges and complayntes be redy refrete in

his meditacions, as werbles in manifolde stoundes comming about

I not than. And therfore, what maner of joye coude [I] endyte?

But yet at dore shal I knocke, if the key of David wolde the locke

[106]

160

unshitte, and he bringe me in, whiche that childrens tonges both

openeth and closeth; whos spirit where he †wol wercheth,

departing goodly as him lyketh.

Now to goddes laude and reverence, profit of the reders,

amendement of maners of the herers, encresing of worship among

165

Loves servauntes, releving of my herte in-to grace of my jewel,

and fren[d]ship [in] plesance of this perle, I am stered in this

making, and for nothing els; and if any good thing to mennes

lyking in this scripture be founde, thanketh the maister of grace,

whiche that of that good and al other is authour and principal

170

doer. And if any thing be insufficient or els mislyking, †wyte

that the leudnesse of myne unable conning: for body in disese

anoyeth the understanding in soule. A disesely habitacion

letteth the wittes [in] many thinges, and namely in sorowe. The

custome never-the-later of Love, †by long tyme of service, in

175

termes I thinke to pursue, whiche ben lyvely to yeve understanding

in other thinges. But now, to enforme thee of this

Margarites goodnesse, I may her not halfe preyse. Wherfore, nat

she for my boke, but this book for her, is worthy to be commended,

tho my book be leude; right as thinges nat for places, but places

180

for thinges, ought to be desyred and praysed.

Book III: Ch. I. 1. sayne. 2. one. thre. 3. amonge. thre. 3, 4. certayne. 4. werke. 6. thre. Demacion; read Deuiacion. 8. hel.

13. thynge. deserte. one benefyte. 14. onely. 16. gyn. 17. made. 19. togyther. dwel. 21. thre. 22. arose. resurrection. 24. boke. thre. 25. maye. 26. erroure. 27. is (!); read that. 28. deserte. 29. correction. waye. 30. comforte. 31. canne. 34. hert. processe. 35. peerle. with; read whyt (see l. 44). 36. iewel; read iewelles. 39. cleapeth. 40. Supply by. 42. treaten. 43. propertie. sayne. 44. whyte. 47. One. 48. comforte. reason.

51. ren. 52. thre. 54. sayn. great. 56. stante. 57. certayne. 58. wretches. 60. whyle. 61. -certayne. hydde. 62. parfyte reason. 64. certayne. 67. treten; read treteth. 69. course. 73. lyueng. 74. wysdome. 76. lyueng. easy bearyng. 78. reason. 80. one. arte. 81. reason. 82. booke. beareth. 84. wisdome. 85. peace.

88. administration. 89. commynalties. cytes. 91. purpose. 93. susterne. one. 94. peace. 96. Nowe. boke. discription. 97-8. thre. 99. reason. 100. peerle. 101. thre. 105. constitution. 110. reason. 112. constitutyon. 113. coniunction. 114. restitution. 115. halte. 117. reasonable. 119. peace. 121. amonge. 122. harme for harme.

123. ferdenesse. 124. nothynge. 125. contraryoustie. 130. law. 131. arne. 133. maye. 134. lyueng. 135. payn. 136. be; read by. parte reasonfully. 137. sey. thentent. 139. thende. thorowe. 141. sleight; read sleigh. 142. I insert he. 143. ymagination. boke. 144. Supply am. ferre. 145. let. 146-8. catch. 147. purpose. 148. thentre. 150. lorde sende. 152. stanch. 157. meditations. 158. I supply I.

160. vnshyt. bring. 161. whose spirite. wel; read wol. 163. Nowe. profite. 165. hert. 166. frenship. I supply in. peerle. 170. with; read wyte. 172. habitation. 173. I supply in. 174. be; read by. 176. nowe. enform the. 178-9. boke (thrice).

CHAPTER II.

'Now,' quod Love, 'trewly thy wordes I have wel understonde.

Certes, me thinketh hem right good; and me

wondreth why thou so lightly passest in the lawe.'

'Sothly,' quod I, 'my wit is leude, and I am right blynd, and

that mater depe. How shulde I than have waded? Lightly

might I have drenched, and spilte ther my-selfe.'

'Ye,' quod she, 'I shal helpe thee to swimme. For right as

lawe punissheth brekers of preceptes and the contrary-doers of the

written constitucions, right so ayenward lawe rewardeth and

yeveth mede to hem that lawe strengthen. By one lawe this

rebel is punisshed and this innocent is meded; the shrewe is

enprisoned and this rightful is corowned. The same lawe that

joyneth by wedlocke without forsaking, the same lawe yeveth

[107]

lybel of departicion bycause of devorse both demed and

declared.'

'Ye, ye,' quod I, 'I fynde in no lawe to mede and rewarde in

goodnes the gilty of desertes.'

'Fole,' quod she, 'gilty, converted in your lawe, mikel merit

deserveth. Also Pauly[n] of Rome was crowned, that by him the

maynteyners of Pompeus weren knowen and distroyed; and yet

toforn was this Paulyn cheef of Pompeus counsaile. This lawe

in Rome hath yet his name of mesuring, in mede, the bewraying of

the conspiracy, ordayned by tho senatours the deth. Julius Cesar

is acompted in-to Catons rightwisnesse; for ever in trouth

florissheth his name among the knowers of reson. Perdicas was

crowned in the heritage of Alexander the grete, for tellinge of

a prevy hate that king Porrus to Alexander hadde. Wherfore

every wight, by reson of lawe, after his rightwysenesse apertely

his mede may chalenge; and so thou, that maynteynest lawe of

kynde, and therfore disese hast suffred in the lawe, reward is

worthy to be rewarded and ordayned, and †apertly thy mede

might thou chalenge.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'this have I wel lerned; and ever hens-forward

I shal drawe me therafter, in oonhed of wil to abyde, this

lawe bothe maynteyne and kepe; and so hope I best entre in-to

your grace, wel deservinge in-to worship of a wight, without

nedeful compulsion, [that] ought medefully to be rewarded.'

'Truly,' quod Love, 'that is sothe; and tho[ugh], by constitucion,

good service in-to profit and avantage strecche, utterly

many men it demen to have more desert of mede than good wil

nat compelled.'

'See now,' quod I, 'how †many men holden of this the contrary.

And what is good service? Of you wolde I here this

question declared.'

'I shal say thee,' quod she, 'in a fewe wordes:—resonable

workinges in plesaunce and profit of thy soverayne.'

'How shulde I this performe?' quod I.

'Right wel,' quod she; 'and here me now a litel. It is hardely

(quod she) to understande, that right as mater by due overchaunginges

foloweth his perfeccion and his forme, right so every

[108]

man, by rightful werkinges, ought to folowe the lefful desyres in

his herte, and see toforn to what ende he deserveth. For many

tymes he that loketh nat after th'endes, but utterly therof is

unknowen, befalleth often many yvels to done, wherthrough, er he

be war, shamefully he is confounded; th'ende[s] therof neden to

be before loked. To every desirer of suche foresight in good

service, three thinges specially nedeth to be rulers in his workes.

First, that he do good; next, that he do [it] by eleccion in his

owne herte; and the thirde, that he do godly, withouten any

surquedry in thoughtes. That your werkes shulden be good, in

service or in any other actes, authoritès many may be aleged;

neverthelater, by reson thus may it be shewed. Al your werkes

be cleped seconde, and moven in vertue of the firste wercher,

whiche in good workes wrought you to procede; and right so

your werkes moven in-to vertue of the laste ende: and right in

the first workinge were nat, no man shulde in the seconde werche.

Right so, but ye feled to what ende, and seen their goodnes

closed, ye shulde no more †recche what ye wrought; but the

ginning gan with good, and there shal it cese in the laste ende, if

it be wel considred. Wherfore the middle, if other-wayes it drawe

than accordant to the endes, there stinteth the course of good,

and another maner course entreth; and so it is a partie by him-selve;

and every part [that] be nat accordant to his al, is foul and

ought to be eschewed. Wherfore every thing that is wrought

and be nat good, is nat accordant to th'endes of his al hole; it is

foul, and ought to be withdrawe. Thus the persons that neither

don good ne harm shamen foule their making. Wherfore, without

working of good actes in good service, may no man ben accepted.

Truely, the ilke that han might to do good and doon it nat, the

crowne of worship shal be take from hem, and with shame shul

they be anulled; and so, to make oon werke acordant with his

endes, every good servaunt, by reson of consequence, muste do

good nedes. Certes, it suffiseth nat alone to do good, but goodly

withal folowe; the thanke of goodnesse els in nought he

deserveth. For right as al your being come from the greetest

good, in whom al goodnesse is closed, right so your endes ben

directe to the same good. Aristotel determineth that ende and

good ben one, and convertible in understanding; and he that in

[109]

wil doth awey good, and he that loketh nat to th'ende, loketh nat

to good; but he that doth good and doth nat goodly, [and]

draweth away the direction of th'ende nat goodly, must nedes

be badde. Lo! badde is nothing els but absence or negative

of good, as derkenesse is absence or negative of light. Than he

that dooth [not] goodly, directeth thilke good in-to th'ende of

badde; so muste thing nat good folowe: eke badnesse to suche

folke ofte foloweth. Thus contrariaunt workers of th'ende

that is good ben worthy the contrary of th'ende that is good

to have.'

'How,' quod I, 'may any good dede be doon, but-if goodly it

100

helpe?'

'Yes,' quod Love, 'the devil doth many good dedes, but

goodly he leveth be-hynde; for †ever badly and in disceyvable

wyse he worketh; wherfore the contrary of th'ende him foloweth.

And do he never so many good dedes, bicause goodly is away,

105

his goodnes is nat rekened. Lo! than, tho[ugh] a man do good,

but he do goodly, th'ende in goodnesse wol nat folowe; and thus

in good service both good dede and goodly doon musten joyne

togider, and that it be doon with free choise in herte; and els

deserveth he nat the merit in goodnes: that wol I prove. For

110

if thou do any-thing good by chaunce or by happe, in what thing

art thou therof worthy to be commended? For nothing, by reson

of that, turneth in-to thy praysing ne lacking. Lo! thilke thing

doon by hap, by thy wil is nat caused; and therby shulde I

thanke or lacke deserve? And sithen that fayleth, th'ende which

115

that wel shulde rewarde, must ned[e]s faile. Clerkes sayn, no man

but willinge is blessed; a good dede that he hath doon is nat

doon of free choice willing; without whiche blissednesse may nat

folowe. Ergo, neither thanke of goodnesse ne service [is] in that

[that] is contrary of the good ende. So than, to good service

120

longeth good dede goodly don, thorow free choice in herte.'

'Truely,' quod I, 'this have I wel understande.'

'Wel,' quod she, 'every thing thus doon sufficiently by lawe,

that is cleped justice, [may] after-reward clayme. For lawe and

justice was ordayned in this wyse, suche desertes in goodnesse,

[110]

125

after quantitè in doinge, by mede to rewarde; and of necessitè of

suche justice, that is to say, rightwysenesse, was free choice in

deserving of wel or of yvel graunted to resonable creatures.

Every man hath free arbitrement to chose, good or yvel to

performe.'

130

'Now,' quod I tho, 'if I by my good wil deserve this Margarit-perle,

and am nat therto compelled, and have free choice to do

what me lyketh; she is than holden, as me thinketh, to rewarde

th'entent of my good wil.'

'Goddes forbode els,' quod Love; 'no wight meneth otherwyse,

135

I trowe; free wil of good herte after-mede deserveth.'

'Hath every man,' quod I, 'free choice by necessary maner of

wil in every of his doinges that him lyketh, by goddes proper

purvyaunce? I wolde see that wel declared to my leude understanding;

for "necessary" and "necessitè" ben wordes of mokel

140

entencion, closing (as to saye) so mote it be nedes, and otherwyse

may it nat betyde.'

'This shalt thou lerne,' quod she, 'so thou take hede in my

speche. If it were nat in mannes owne libertè of free wil to do

good or bad, but to the one teyed by bonde of goddes preordinaunce,

145

than, do he never so wel, it were by nedeful compulcion

of thilk bonde, and nat by free choice, wherby nothing he

desyreth: and do he never so yvel, it were nat man for to wyte,

but onlich to him that suche thing ordayned him to done.

Wherfore he ne ought for bad[de] be punisshed, ne for no good

150

dede be rewarded; but of necessitè of rightwisnesse was therfore

free choice of arbitrement put in mans proper disposicion. Truely,

if it were otherwyse, it contraried goddes charitè, that badnesse

and goodnesse rewardeth after desert of payne or of mede.'

'Me thinketh this wonder,' quod I; 'for god by necessitè

155

forwot al thinges coming, and so mote it nedes be; and thilke

thinges that ben don †by our free choice comen nothing of necessitè

but only †by wil. How may this stonde †togider? And so

me thinketh truely, that free choice fully repugneth goddes

forweting. Trewly, lady, me semeth, they mowe nat stande

160

†togider.'

Ch. II. 1. Nowe. 4. blynde. 5. howe. 7. Yea. the. swym. 9. constitutions. ayenwarde.

17. gyltie. 18. gyltie. merite. 19. Pauly (for Paulyn; first time). 21. toforne. chefe. 25. amonge. 25-8. reason. 26. great. 30. disease. rewarde. 31. apartly (for apertly). 34. onehed. 37. I supply that. 38. constitution. 39. profite. stretch. 42. Se. howe may. 45. the. 46. profite. 47. Howe. 48. nowe. 50. perfection.

51. leful. 52. hert. se. 55. ware. 57. thre. 58. I supply it. electyon. 59. hert. 62. reason. maye. 68. recth (for retch); read recche. 69. cease. 73. parte. I supply that. 73-5. foule. 77. harme. 79. done. 81. one. 82. reason. 85. greatest.

90. I supply and. 92. bad. negatyfe (first time). 94. I supply not. 99. done. 101. dothe. 102. even; read ever. 105. tho. 107-8. done (twice). 108. hert. 109. merite. 111. reason. 113. done. shulde I; put for shuldest thou. 115. neds (sic). 116-7. done (twice). 118. I supply is and that. 120. thorowe fre. hert. 122. done. 123. I supply may. rewarde claym.

130. Nowe. 134. meaneth. 135. hert. 136. fre. 138. se. 140. entention. 142. lern. 143-6. fre (twice). 148. onelych. 149. bad. 151. fre. 151. disposition. 153. payn. 155. forwote. 156. be; for by. fre. 157. onely be; for by. Howe. 157-60. togyther; read togider. 158. fre.

CHAPTER III.

Than gan Love nighe me nere, and with a noble countenance

of visage and limmes, dressed her nigh my

sitting-place.

'Take forth,' quod she, 'thy pen, and redily wryte these

wordes. For if god wol, I shal hem so enforme to thee, that thy

leudnesse which I have understande in that mater shal openly be

clered, and thy sight in ful loking therin amended. First, if thou

thinke that goddes prescience repugne libertè of arbitrement, it is

impossible that they shulde accorde in onheed of sothe to

understonding.'

'Ye,' quod I, 'forsothe; so I it conceyve.'

'Wel,' quod she, 'if thilke impossible were away, the repugnaunce

that semeth to be therin were utterly removed.'

'Shewe me the absence of that impossibilitè,' quod I.

'So,' quod she, 'I shal. Now I suppose that they mowe

stande togider: prescience of god, whom foloweth necessitè of

thinges comming, and libertè of arbitrement, thorow whiche thou

belevest many thinges to be without necessitè.'

'Bothe these proporcions be sothe,' quod I, 'and wel mowe

stande togider; wherfore this case as possible I admit.'

'Truely,' quod she, 'and this case is impossible.'

'How so?' quod I.

'For herof,' quod she, 'foloweth and wexeth another

impossible.'

'Prove me that,' quod I.

'That I shal,' quod she; 'for somthing is comming without

necessitè, and god wot that toforn; for al thing comming he

before wot, and that he beforn wot of necessitè is comming, as

he beforn wot be the case by necessary maner; or els, thorow

necessitè, is somthing to be without necessitè; and wheder, to

every wight that hath good understanding, is seen these thinges

to be repugnaunt: prescience of god, whiche that foloweth necessitè,

and libertè of arbitrement, fro whiche is removed necessitè?

For truely, it is necessary that god have forweting of thing withouten

any necessitè cominge.'

[112]

'Ye,' quod I; 'but yet remeve ye nat away fro myne understanding

the necessitè folowing goddes be foreweting, as thus. God

beforn wot me in service of love to be bounden to this Margarite-perle,

and therfore by necessitè thus to love am I bounde; and

if I had nat loved, thorow necessitè had I ben kept from al

love-dedes.'

'Certes,' quod Love, 'bicause this mater is good and necessary

to declare, I thinke here-in wel to abyde, and not lightly to passe.

Thou shalt not (quod she) say al-only, "god beforn wot me to be

a lover or no lover," but thus: "god beforn wot me to be a lover

without necessitè." And so foloweth, whether thou love or not love,

every of hem is and shal be. But now thou seest the impossibilitè

of the case, and the possibilitè of thilke that thou wendest

had been impossible; wherfore the repugnaunce is adnulled.'

'Ye,' quod I; 'and yet do ye not awaye the strength of necessitè,

whan it is said, th[r]ough necessitè it is me in love to

abyde, or not to love without necessitè for god beforn wot it.

This maner of necessitè forsothe semeth to some men in-to coaccion,

that is to sayne, constrayning, or else prohibicion, that is,

defendinge; wherfore necessitè is me to love of wil. I understande

me to be constrayned by some privy strength to the wil

of lovinge; and if [I] no[t] love, to be defended from the wil of

lovinge: and so thorow necessitè me semeth to love, for I love;

or els not to love, if I not love; wherthrough neither thank ne

maugrè in tho thinges may I deserve.'

'Now,' quod she, 'thou shalt wel understande, that often we

sayn thing thorow necessitè to be, that by no strength to be

neither is coarted ne constrayned; and through necessitè not

to be, that with no defendinge is removed. For we sayn it is

thorow necessitè god to be immortal, nought deedliche; and it

is necessitè, god to be rightful; but not that any strength of

violent maner constrayneth him to be immortal, or defendeth him

to be unrightful; for nothing may make him dedly or unrightful.

Right so, if I say, thorow necessitè is thee to be a lover or els

noon; only thorow wil, as god beforn wete. It is nat to understonde

that any thing defendeth or forbit thee thy wil, whiche shal

[113]

nat be; or els constrayneth it to be, whiche shal be. That same

thing, forsoth, god before wot, whiche he beforn seeth. Any

thing commende of only wil, that wil neyther is constrayned

ne defended thorow any other thing. And so thorow libertè of

arbitrement it is do, that is don of wil. And trewly, my good

child, if these thinges be wel understonde, I wene that non

inconvenient shalt thou fynde betwene goddes forweting and

libertè of arbitrement; wherfore I wot wel they may stande

togider. Also farthermore, who that understanding of prescience

properlich considreth, thorow the same wyse that any-thing be

afore wist is said, for to be comming it is pronounced; there is

nothing toforn wist but thing comming; foreweting is but of

trouth[e]; dout[e] may nat be wist; wherfore, whan I sey that god

toforn wot any-thing, thorow necessitè is thilke thing to be comming;

al is oon if I sey, it shal be. But this necessitè neither

constrayneth ne defendeth any-thing to be or nat to be. Therfore sothly,

if love is put to be, it is said of necessitè to be; or els, for it

is put nat to be, it is affirmed nat to be of necessitè; nat for that

necessitè constrayneth or defendeth love to be or nat to be. For

whan I say, if love shal be, of necessitè it shal be, here foloweth

necessitè the thing toforn put; it is as moch to say as if it were thus

pronounced—"that thing shal be." Noon other thing signifyeth

this necessitè but only thus: that shal be, may nat togider be

and nat be. Evenlich also it is soth, love was, and is, and shal

be, nat of necessitè; and nede is to have be al that was; and

nedeful is to be al that is; and comming, to al that shal be.

And it is nat the same to saye, love to be passed, and love

passed to be passed; or love present to be present, and love to

100

be present; or els love to be comminge, and love comminge to be

comming. Dyversitè in setting of wordes maketh dyversitè in

understandinge; altho[ugh] in the same sentence they accorden

of significacion; right as it is nat al oon, love swete to be swete,

and love to be swete. For moch love is bitter and sorouful, er

105

hertes ben esed; and yet it glad[d]eth thilke sorouful herte on

suche love to thinke.'

'Forsothe,' quod I, 'outherwhile I have had mokel blisse in

herte of love that stoundmele hath me sorily anoyed. And

[114]

certes, lady, for I see my-self thus knit with this Margarite-perle

110

as by bonde of your service and of no libertè of wil, my herte wil

now nat acorde this service to love. I can demin in my-selfe

non otherwise but thorow necessitè am I constrayned in this

service to abyde. But alas! than, if I thorow nedeful compulsioun

maugre me be with-holde, litel thank for al my greet traveil have

115

I than deserved.'

'Now,' quod this lady, 'I saye as I sayde: me lyketh this

mater to declare at the ful, and why: for many men have had

dyvers fantasyes and resons, both on one syde therof and in the

other. Of whiche right sone, I trowe, if thou wolt understonde,

120

thou shalt conne yeve the sentence to the partie more probable

by reson, and in soth knowing, by that I have of this mater

maked an ende.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'of these thinges longe have I had greet lust

to be lerned; for yet, I wene, goddes wil and his prescience

125

acordeth with my service in lovinge of this precious Margarite-perle.

After whom ever, in my herte, with thursting desyre wete,

I do brenne; unwasting, I langour and fade; and the day of my

desteny in dethe or in joye I †onbyde; but yet in th'ende I am

comforted †by my supposaile, in blisse and in joye to determine

130

after my desyres.'

'That thing,' quoth Love, 'hastely to thee neigh, god graunt

of his grace and mercy! And this shal be my prayer, til thou be

lykende in herte at thyne owne wil. But now to enforme thee in

this mater (quod this lady) thou wost where I lefte; that was:

135

love to be swete, and love swete to be swete, is not al oon for to

say. For a tree is nat alway by necessitè white. Somtyme, er it

were white, it might have be nat white; and after tyme it is

white, it may be nat white. But a white tree evermore nedeful

is to be white; for neither toforn ne after it was white, might it

140

be togider white and nat white. Also love, by necessitè, is nat

present as now in thee; for er it were present, it might have be

that it shulde now nat have be; and yet it may be that it shal nat

be present; but thy love present whiche to her, Margarite, thee

hath bounde, nedeful is to be present. Trewly, som doing of

[115]

145

accion, nat by necessitè, is comminge fer toforn it be; it may be

that it shal nat be comminge. Thing forsoth comming nedeful is

to be comming; for it may nat be that comming shal nat be

comming. And right as I have sayd of present and of future

tymes, the same sentence in sothnesse is of the preterit, that is

150

to say, tyme passed. For thing passed must nedes be passed; and

er it were, it might have nat be; wherfore it shulde nat have

passed. Right so, whan love comming is said of love that is to

come, nedeful is to be that is said; for thing comming never is nat

comminge. And so, ofte, the same thing we sayn of the same; as

155

whan we sayn "every man is a man," or "every lover is a lover,"

so muste it be nedes. In no waye may he be man and no man togider.

And if it be nat by necessitè, that is to say nedeful, al thing

comming to be comming, than somthing comming is nat comminge,

and that is impossible. Right as these termes "nedeful,"

160

"necessitè," and "necessary" betoken and signify thing nedes

to be, and it may nat otherwyse be, right [so] †this terme "impossible"

signifyeth, that [a] thing is nat and by no way may it be.

Than, thorow pert necessitè, al thing comming is comming; but

that is by necessitè foloweth, with nothing to be constrayned.

165

Lo! whan that "comming" is said of thinge, nat alway thing

thorow necessitè is, altho[ugh] it be comming. For if I say,

"to-morowe love is comming in this Margarites herte," nat therfore

thorow necessitè shal the ilke love be; yet it may be that it shal

nat be, altho[ugh] it were comming. Neverthelater, somtyme it

170

is soth that somthing be of necessitè, that is sayd "to come"; as

if I say, to-morowe †be comminge the rysinge of the sonne. If

therfore with necessitè I pronounce comming of thing to come, in

this maner love to-morne comminge in thyne Margarite to thee-ward,

by necessitè is comminge; or els the rysing of the sonne

175

to-morne comminge, through necessitè is comminge. Love sothely,

whiche may nat be of necessitè alone folowinge, thorow necessitè

comming it is mad certayn. For "futur" of future is said; that is to

sayn, "comming" of comminge is said; as, if to-morowe comming

is thorow necessitè, comminge it is. Arysing of the sonne, thorow

180

two necessitès in comming, it is to understande; that oon is

to-for[e]going necessitè, whiche maketh thing to be; therfore it shal

be, for nedeful is that it be. Another is folowing necessitè, whiche

[116]

nothing constrayneth to be, and so by necessitè it is to come; why?

for it is to come. Now than, whan we sayn that god beforn wot

185

thing comming, nedeful [it] is to be comming; yet therfore make

we nat in certayn evermore, thing to be thorow necessitè comminge.

Sothly, thing comming may nat be nat comming by no

way; for it is the same sentence of understanding as if we say

thus: if god beforn wot any-thing, nedeful is that to be comming.

190

But yet therfore foloweth nat the prescience of God, thing thorow

necessitè to be comming: for al-tho[ugh] god toforn wot al

thinges comming, yet nat therfore he beforn wot every thing

comming thorow necessitè. Some thinges he beforn wot comming

of free wil out of resonable creature.'

195

'Certes,' quod I, 'these termes "nede" and "necessitè" have

a queint maner of understanding; they wolden dullen many

mennes wittes.'

'Therfore,' quod she, 'I wol hem openly declare, and more

clerely than I have toforn, er I departe hen[ne]s.

Ch. III. 1. nygh. 5. the. 6. vnderstand. 8. lyberte of arbetry of arbitrement; omit arbetry of. 15. Nowe. 17. thorowe. 22. Howe. 29. beforne. maner than (omit than). thorowe. 30. whederto.

38. beforne wote. 40. thorowe. kepte. 44. shalte. onely. 44-5. beforne wote (twice). 47. nowe. 51. though; read through. 52. beforne wote. 53. coaction. 57. Supply I; for no read not; see l. 59. 58. thorowe. 59. thanke. 60. maye. 61. Nowe. shalte. 62. sayne. thorowe. 63. throughe. 64. sayne. 65. thorowe. 67. violente. 69. thorowe. the. 70. none. onely thorowe. beforne. 71. the.

73-4. thynge. 74. commende; for comminge. onely. 75. thorowe (twice). 76. done. 77. childe. vnderstond. 81. thorowe. 84. trouth. dout. 85. wote. thorowe. 86. if it shal be; omit if. 92. toforne. 93. None. 94. onely. 102. altho. 103. signification. one. 105. eased. hert. 108. hert.

109. se. peerle. 110. hert. 111. nowe. 112. thorowe. 113. thorowe. 114. thanke. great. 116. Nowe. 118. reasons. 120. shalte con. 121. reason. 123. great luste. 126. hert. weete. 128. vnbyde (!). 129. be; for by. 133. nowe. the. 135. one. 138. maye. 141. nowe. the. 142. nowe. maye. 143. the. 144. some.

145. action. ferre. 154. thynge. 155. sayne. 161. I supply so. these termes; read this terme. 162. I supply a. 163-6. thorowe. (twice). 166. altho. 167. hert. 169. altho. 171. by; read be. 173. the warde. 176. thorowe. 177. made certayne. 179. thorowe. 180. one. 181. to forgoing.

184. Nowe. 185. I supply it. 186. certayne. thynge. thorowe. 187. maye. 190. thorowe. 191. wote. 193. thorowe. 200. hense; read hennes.

CHAPTER IV.

Here of this mater,' quod she, 'thou shalt understande

that, right as it is nat nedeful, god to wilne that he wil,

no more in many thinges is nat nedeful, a man to wilne that

he wol. And ever, right as nedeful is to be, what that god wol,

right so to be it is nedeful that man wol in tho thinges, whiche

that god hath put in-to mannes subjeccion of willinge; as, if

a man wol love, that he love; and if he ne wol love, that he love

nat; and of suche other thinges in mannes disposicion. For-why,

now than that god wol may nat be, whan he wol the wil of man

thorow no necessitè to be constrayned or els defended for to

wilne, and he wol th'effect to folowe the wil; than is it nedeful,

wil of man to be free, and also to be that he wol. In this maner

it is soth, that thorow necessitè is mannes werke in loving, that

he wol do altho[ugh] he wol it nat with necessitè.'

Quod I than, 'how stant it in love of thilke wil, sithen men

[117]

loven willing of free choice in herte? Wherfore, if it be thorow

necessitè, I praye you, lady, of an answere this question to

assoyle.'

'I wol,' quod she, 'answere thee blyvely. Right as men wil

not thorow necessitè, right so is not love of wil thorow necessitè;

ne thorow necessitè wrought thilke same wil. For if he wolde

it not with good wil, it shulde nat have been wrought; although

that he doth, it is nedeful to be doon. But if a man do sinne, it

is nothing els but to †wilne that he shulde nat; right so sinne

of wil is not to be [in] maner necessary don, no more than wil is

necessarye. Never-the-later, this is sothe; if a man wol sinne,

it is necessarye him to sinne, but th[r]ough thilke necessitè nothing

is constrayned ne defended in the wil; right so thilke thing that

free-wil wol and may, and not may not wilne; and nedeful is

that to wilne he may not wilne. But thilke to wilne nedeful is; for

impossible to him it is oon thing and the same to wilne and not to

wilne. The werke, forsothe, of wil, to whom it is yeve that it be that

he hath in wil, and that he wol not, voluntarie †or spontanye it is;

for by spontanye wil it is do, that is to saye, with good wil not

constrayned: than by wil not constrayned it is constrayned to

be; and that is it may not †togider be. If this necessitè maketh

libertè of wil, whiche that, aforn they weren, they might have ben

eschewed and shonned: god than, whiche that knoweth al

tr[o]uthe, and nothing but tr[o]uthe, al these thinges, as they

arn spontanye or necessarie, †seeth; and as he seeth, so they

ben. And so with these thinges wel considred, it is open at the

ful, that without al maner repugnaunce god beforn wot al maner

thinges [that] ben don by free wil, whiche, aforn they weren,

[it] might have ben [that] never they shulde be. And yet ben

they thorow a maner necessitè from free wil †discended.

Hereby may (quod she) lightly ben knowe that not al thinges to

be, is of necessitè, though god have hem in his prescience. For

som thinges to be, is of libertè of wil. And to make thee to have

ful knowinge of goddes beforn-weting, here me (quod she) what

I shal say.'

[118]

'Blythly, lady,' quod I, 'me list this mater entyrely to

understande.'

'Thou shalt,' quod she, 'understande that in heven is goddes

beinge; although he be over al by power, yet there is abydinge of

devyne persone; in whiche heven is everlastinge presence, withouten

any movable tyme. There * is nothing preterit ne passed,

there is nothing future ne comming; but al thinges togider in that

place ben present everlasting, without any meving. Wherfore, to

god, al thing is as now; and though a thing be nat, in kyndly

nature of thinges, as yet, and if it shulde be herafter, yet evermore

we shul saye, god it maketh be tyme present, and now; for no

future ne preterit in him may be founde. Wherfore his weting and

his before-weting is al oon in understanding. Than, if weting

and before-weting of god putteth in necessitè to al thinges whiche

he wot or before-wot; ne thing, after eternitè or els after any

tyme, he wol or doth of libertè, but al of necessitè: whiche thing

if thou wene it be ayenst reson, [than is] nat thorow necessitè to

be or nat to be, al thing that god wot or before-wot to be or nat

to be; and yet nothing defendeth any-thing to be wist or to be

before-wist of him in our willes or our doinges to be don, or els

comminge to be for free arbitrement. Whan thou hast these

declaracions wel understande, than shalt thou fynde it resonable

at prove, and that many thinges be nat thorow necessitè but

thorow libertè of wil, save necessitè of free wil, as I tofore said,

and, as me thinketh, al utterly declared.'

'Me thinketh, lady,' quod I, 'so I shulde you nat displese, and

evermore your reverence to kepe, that these thinges contraryen in

any understanding; for ye sayn, somtyme is thorow libertè of

wil, and also thorow necessitè. Of this have I yet no savour,

without better declaracion.'

'What wonder,' quod she, 'is there in these thinges, sithen al

day thou shalt see at thyne eye, in many thinges receyven in hem-selfe

revers, thorow dyvers resons, as thus:—I pray thee (quod

she) which thinges ben more revers than "comen" and "gon"?

For if I bidde thee "come to me," and thou come, after, whan

I bidde thee "go," and thou go, thou reversest fro thy first

comming.'

[119]

'That is soth,' quod I.

'And yet,' quod she, 'in thy first alone, by dyvers reson, was

ful reversinge to understande.'

'As how?' quod I.

'That shal I shewe thee,' quod she, 'by ensample of thinges

that have kyndly moving. Is there any-thing that meveth more

kyndly than doth the hevens eye, whiche I clepe the sonne?'

'Sothly,' quod I, 'me semeth it is most kyndly to move.'

'Thou sayest soth,' quod she. 'Than, if thou loke to the

sonne, in what parte he be under heven, evermore he †hyeth him

in moving fro thilke place, and †hyeth meving toward the ilke

same place; to thilke place from whiche he goth he †hyeth

100

comminge; and without any ceesinge to that place he neigheth

from whiche he is chaunged and withdrawe. But now in these

thinges, after dyversitè of reson, revers in one thinge may be seye

without repugnaunce. Wherfore in the same wyse, without any

repugnaunce, by my resons tofore maked, al is oon to beleve,

105

somthing to be thorow necessitè comminge for it is comming, and

yet with no necessitè constrayned to be comming, but with

necessitè that cometh out of free wil, as I have sayd.'

Tho liste me a litel to speke, and gan stinte my penne of my

wryting, and sayde in this wyse.

110

'Trewly, lady, as me thinketh, I can allege authoritees grete,

that contrarien your sayinges. Job saith of mannes person,

"thou hast put his terme, whiche thou might not passe." Than

saye I that no man may shorte ne lengthe the day ordayned of

his †dying, altho[ugh] somtyme to us it semeth som man to do

115

a thing of free wil, wherthorow his deeth he henteth.'

'Nay, forsothe,' quod she, 'it is nothing ayenst my saying; for

god is not begyled, ne he seeth nothing wheder it shal come of

libertè or els of necessitè; yet it is said to be ordayned at god

immovable, whiche at man, or it be don, may be chaunged.

120

Suche thing is also that Poule the apostel saith of hem that tofore

wern purposed to be sayntes, as thus: "whiche that god before

wiste and hath predestined conformes of images of his †sone, that

he shulde ben the firste begeten, that is to saye, here amonges

[120]

many brethren; and whom he hath predestined, hem he hath

125

cleped; and whom he hath cleped, hem he hath justifyed; and

whom he hath justifyed, hem he hath magnifyed." This purpos,

after whiche they ben cleped sayntes or holy in the everlasting

present, wher is neither tyme passed ne tyme comminge, but ever

it is only present, and now as mokel a moment as sevin thousand

130

winter; and so ayenward withouten any meving is nothing lich

temporel presence for thinge that there is ever present. Yet

amonges you men, er it be in your presence, it is movable thorow

libertè of arbitrement. And right as in the everlasting present

no maner thing was ne shal be, but only is; and now here, in

135

your temporel tyme, somthing was, and is, and shal be, but

movinge stoundes; and in this is no maner repugnaunce: right

so, in the everlasting presence, nothing may be chaunged; and,

in your temporel tyme, otherwhyle it is proved movable by libertè

of wil or it be do, withouten any inconvenience therof to folowe.

140

In your temporel tyme is no suche presence as in the tother; for

your present is don whan passed and to come ginnen entre;

whiche tymes here amonges you everich esily foloweth other.

But the presence everlasting dureth in oonhed, withouten any

imaginable chaunging, and ever is present and now. Trewly, the

145

course of the planettes and overwhelminges of the sonne in dayes

and nightes, with a newe ginning of his circute after it is ended,

that is to sayn, oon yeer to folowe another: these maken your

transitory tymes with chaunginge of lyves and mutacion of people,

but right as your temporel presence coveiteth every place, and al

150

thinges in every of your tymes be contayned, and as now both

seye and wist to goddes very knowinge.'

'Than,' quod I, 'me wondreth why Poule spak these wordes

by voice of significacion in tyme passed, that god his sayntes

before-wist hath predestined, hath cleped, hath justifyed, and

155

hath magnifyed. Me thinketh, he shulde have sayd tho wordes

in tyme present; and that had ben more accordaunt to the

everlasting present than to have spoke in preterit voice of passed

understanding.'

'O,' quod Love, 'by these wordes I see wel thou hast litel

160

understanding of the everlasting presence, or els of my before

[121]

spoken wordes; for never a thing of tho thou hast nempned was

tofore other or after other; but al at ones evenlich at the god

ben, and al togider in the everlasting present be now to understanding.

This eternal presence, as I sayd, hath inclose togider

165

in one al tymes, in which close and one al thinges that ben in

dyvers tymes and in dyvers places temporel, [and] without posterioritè

or prioritè ben closed ther in perpetual now, and maked

to dwelle in present sight. But there thou sayest that Poule shulde

have spoke thilke forsaid sentence †by tyme present, and that

170

most shulde have ben acordaunt to the everlasting presence,

why gabbest thou †in thy wordes? Sothly, I say, Poule moved

the wordes by significacion of tyme passed, to shewe fully that

thilk wordes were nat put for temporel significacion; for al [at] thilk

tyme [of] thilke sentence were nat temporallich born, whiche that

175

Poule pronounced god have tofore knowe, and have cleped, than

magnifyed. Wherthorow it may wel be knowe that Poule used tho

wordes of passed significacion, for nede and lacke of a worde

in mannes bodily speche betokeninge the everlasting presence.

And therfore, [in] worde moste semeliche in lykenesse to everlasting

180

presence, he took his sentence; for thinges that here-beforn

ben passed utterly be immovable, y-lyke to the everlasting

presence. As thilke that ben there never mowe not ben present,

so thinges of tyme passed ne mowe in no wyse not ben passed;

but al thinges in your temporal presence, that passen in a litel

185

while, shullen ben not present. So than in that, it is more

similitude to the everlasting presence, significacion of tyme passed

than of tyme temporal present, and so more in accordaunce. In

this maner what thing, of these that ben don thorow free arbitrement,

or els as necessary, holy writ pronounceth, after eternitè he

190

speketh; in whiche presence is everlasting sothe and nothing but

sothe immovable; nat after tyme, in whiche naught alway ben

your willes and your actes. And right as, while they be nat, it is

nat nedeful hem to be, so ofte it is nat nedeful that somtyme

they shulde be.'

195

'As how?' quod I; 'for yet I must be lerned by some

ensample.'

'Of love,' quod she, 'wol I now ensample make, sithen I knowe

[122]

the heed-knotte in that yelke. Lo! somtyme thou wrytest no

art, ne art than in no wil to wryte. And right as while thou

200

wrytest nat or els wolt nat wryte, it is nat nedeful thee to wryte

or els wilne to wryte. And for to make thee knowe utterly that

thinges ben otherwise in the everlastinge presence than in

temporal tyme, see now, my good child: for somthing is in the

everlastinge presence, than in temporal tyme it was nat; in

205

†eterne tyme, in eterne presence shal it nat be. Than no reson

defendeth, that somthing ne may be in tyme temporal moving,

that in eterne is immovable. Forsothe, it is no more contrary

ne revers for to be movable in tyme temporel, and [im]movable

in eternitè, than nat to be in any tyme and to be alway in

210

eternitè; and to have be or els to come in tyme temporel, and

nat have be ne nought comming to be in eternitè. Yet never-the-later,

I say nat somthing to be never in tyme temporel, that

ever is [in] eternitè; but al-only in som tyme nat to be. For

I saye nat thy love to-morne in no tyme to be, but to-day alone

215

I deny it to be; and yet, never-the-later, it is alway in eternitè.'

'A! so,' quod I, 'it semeth to me, that comming thing or els

passed here in your temporal tyme to be, in eternitè ever now

and present oweth nat to be demed; and yet foloweth nat thilke

thing, that was or els shal be, in no maner ther to ben passed

220

or els comming; than utterly shul we deny for there without

ceesing it is, in his present maner.'

'O,' quod she, 'myne owne disciple, now ginnest thou [be]

able to have the name of my servaunt! Thy wit is clered; away

is now errour of cloude in unconning; away is blyndnesse of

225

love; away is thoughtful study of medling maners. Hastely

shalt thou entre in-to the joye of me, that am thyn owne

maistres! Thou hast (quod she), in a fewe wordes, wel and

clerely concluded mokel of my mater. And right as there is

no revers ne contrarioustee in tho thinges, right so, withouten

230

any repugnaunce, it is sayd somthing to be movable in tyme

temporel, †afore it be, that in eternitè dwelleth immovable, nat

afore it be or after that it is, but without cessing; for right

naught is there after tyme; that same is there everlastinge that

[123]

temporalliche somtyme nis; and toforn it be, it may not be, as

235

I have sayd.'

'Now sothly,' quod I, 'this have I wel understande; so that

now me thinketh, that prescience of god and free arbitrement

withouten any repugnaunce acorden; and that maketh the

strength of eternitè, whiche encloseth by presence during al

240

tymes, and al thinges that ben, han ben, and shul ben in any

tyme. I wolde now (quod I) a litel understande, sithen that

[god] al thing thus beforn wot, whether thilke wetinge be of tho

thinges, or els thilke thinges ben to ben of goddes weting, and so

of god nothing is; and if every thing be thorow goddes weting, and

245

therof take his being, than shulde god be maker and auctour

of badde werkes, and so he shulde not rightfully punisshe yvel

doinges of mankynde.'

Quod Love, 'I shal telle thee, this lesson to lerne. Myne

owne trewe servaunt, the noble philosophical poete in Englissh,

250

whiche evermore him besieth and travayleth right sore my name

to encrese (wherfore al that willen me good owe to do him

worship and reverence bothe; trewly, his better ne his pere in

scole of my rules coude I never fynde)—he (quod she), in a tretis

that he made of my servant Troilus, hath this mater touched, and

255

at the ful this question assoyled. Certaynly, his noble sayinges

can I not amende; in goodnes of gentil manliche speche, without

any maner of nycetè of †storiers imaginacion, in witte and in

good reson of sentence he passeth al other makers. In the boke of

Troilus, the answere to thy question mayst thou lerne. Never-the-later,

260

yet may lightly thyne understandinge somdel ben lerned,

if thou have knowing of these to-fornsaid thinges; with that thou

have understanding of two the laste chapiters of this seconde

boke, that is to say, good to be somthing, and bad to wante al

maner being. For badde is nothing els but absence of good;

265

and [as] that god in good maketh that good dedes ben good,

in yvel he maketh that they ben but naught, that they ben bad;

for to nothing is badnesse to be [lykned].'

'I have,' quod I tho, 'ynough knowing therin; me nedeth of

other thinges to here, that is to saye, how I shal come to my

270

blisse so long desyred.'

Ch. IV. 1. shalte. 6. subiection. 8. disposition. 9. nowe. 10. thorowe. 11. theffecte. folow. 12. fre. 13. thorowe. 14. altho. 15. howe stante.

16. thorowe. 19. the. 20-1. thorowe (thrice). 23. dothe. doone. 24. wyl; read wilne; see l. 30. 25. I supply in. done. 28. thynge. 29. frewyl. maye. 30. maye. 30-1. Some words repeated here. 31. one. 32. whome. 33. of; read or. 36. togyther; read togider. 37. libertie. aforne. 39. truthe (twice). 40. arne. syght; read seeth. 42. beforne. 43. I supply that. fre. aforne. 44. I supply it and that. 45. frewyl discendeth (!). 46. maye. 48. libertie. the. 49. beforne.

53. shalte. * A break here in Th. 59. nowe. thynge. 61. nowe. 63. one. 66. dothe. 67. reason. I supply than is. thorowe. 69. thynge. 70. done. 71. haste. 72. declarations. 73-4. thorowe (twice). 76. displease. 78. sayne. 78-9. thorowe. 80. declaration. 82. shalte se. 83. reasons. the. 84. gone. 85-6. thee (twice).

89. reasone. 91. howe. 92. the. 97. heigheth; read hyeth. 98. higheth; read hyeth. towarde. 99. gothe. heigheth; read hyeth. 100. ceasynge. 101. nowe. 102. reason. sey. 104. reasons. one. 105. thorowe. 108. list. stynt. 109. sayd. 110. gret. 111. sayenges. 112. putte. 113. length. 114. doyng; read dying. some. 115. thynge. -thorowe. dethe. 116. Naye. sayeng. 119. done. 120. saithe. toforne werne. 122. wyst. sonne; read sone.

124. brethern. 126. purpose. 129. onely. nowe. thousande. 130. ayenwarde. 132. thorowe. 134. onely. nowe. 141. done. 142. easely. 143. onehed. 144. nowe. 147. one yere. 148. mutation. 150. nowe. 151. sey. 152. spake. 153. signification. 155. sayde. 159. se.

163, 167. nowe. 166. I supply and. 167. therin; read ther in. 168. dwel. 169. be; read by. 171. to; read in. 172-3. signification (twice). 173. I supply at. 174. were nat thilke sentence; transpose, and insert of. borne. 176. Wherthorowe. know. 177. signification. 178. spech. 179. I supply in; and omit is after worde. 180. toke. 181. beforne. 186. signification. 188. thynge. done thorowe fre. 189. writte. 197. nowe.

199. arte (twice). 200. the. 201. the. 203. se nowe. childe. somthynge. 205. eternite; read eterne. reason. 208. movable (!). 210. and have to be. 213. I supply in. al onely. somtyme. 215. deny ne it; omit ne. alwaye. 217. nowe. 219. thynge. thereto; read ther to. 221. ceasyng. 222. nowe. I supply be. 223. witte. 224. nowe. awaye. 226. shalte. 227. haste. 229. contrarioustie. 231. and for; read afore.

234. toforne. maye. 236. Nowe. 237. nowe. fre. 241. nowe. 242. I supply god. beforne. 244. nothynge. thorowe. 248. tel the. 251. encrease. 253. schole. treatise. 255. sayenges. 256. gentyl manlyche. 257. nycite. starieres (!). 258. reason. 259. mayste. 260. somdele. 263. want. 265. I supply as. 267. I supply lykned. 269. howe.

CHAPTER V.

'In this mater toforn declared,' quod Love, 'I have wel

shewed, that every man hath free arbitrement of thinges in

his power, to do or undo what him lyketh. Out of this grounde

muste come the spire, that by processe of tyme shal in greetnesse

sprede, to have braunches and blosmes of waxing frute in grace,

of whiche the taste and the savour is endelesse blisse, in joye

ever to onbyde.'*

'Now, trewly, lady, I have my grounde wel understonde;

but what thing is thilke spire that in-to a tree shulde wexe?

Expowne me that thing, what ye therof mene.'

'That shal I,' quod she, 'blithly, and take good hede to the

wordes, I thee rede. Continuaunce in thy good service, by longe

processe of tyme in ful hope abyding, without any chaunge to

wilne in thyne herte, this is the spire. Whiche, if it be wel kept

and governed, shal so hugely springe, til the fruit of grace is

plentuously out-sprongen. For although thy wil be good, yet

may not therfore thilk blisse desyred hastely on thee discenden;

it must abyde his sesonable tyme. And so, by processe of

growing, with thy good traveyle, it shal in-to more and more wexe,

til it be found so mighty, that windes of yvel speche, ne scornes

of envy, make nat the traveyle overthrowe; ne frostes of mistrust,

ne hayles of jelousy right litel might have, in harming of suche

springes. Every yonge setling lightly with smale stormes is

apeyred; but whan it is woxen somdel in gretnesse, than han

grete blastes and †weders but litel might, any disadvantage to

them for to werche.'

'Myne owne soverayne lady,' quod I, 'and welth of myne

herte, and it were lyking un-to your noble grace therthrough nat

to be displesed, I suppose ye erren, now ye maken jelousy, envy,

and distourbour to hem that ben your servauntes. I have lerned

ofte, to-forn this tyme, that in every lovers herte greet plentee of

jelousyes greves ben sowe, wherfore (me thinketh) ye ne ought

in no maner accompte thilke thing among these other welked

wivers and venomous serpentes, as envy, mistrust, and yvel

speche.'

[125]

'O fole,' quod she, 'mistrust with foly, with yvel wil medled,

engendreth that welked padde! Truely, if they were distroyed,

jelousy undon were for ever; and yet some maner of jelousy,

I wot wel, is ever redy in al the hertes of my trewe servauntes, as

thus: to be jelous over him-selfe, lest he be cause of his own

disese. This jelousy in ful thought ever shulde be kept, for

ferdnesse to lese his love by miskeping, thorow his owne doing in

leudnesse, or els thus: lest she, that thou servest so fervently, is

beset there her better lyketh, that of al thy good service she

compteth nat a cresse. These jelousies in herte for acceptable

qualitees ben demed; these oughten every trewe lover, by kyndly

[maner], evermore haven in his mynde, til fully the grace and

blisse of my service be on him discended at wil. And he that

than jelousy caccheth, or els by wening of his owne folisshe

wilfulnesse mistrusteth, truely with fantasy of venim he is foule

begyled. Yvel wil hath grounded thilke mater of sorowe in his

leude soule, and yet nat-for-than to every wight shulde me nat

truste, ne every wight fully misbeleve; the mene of these thinges

†oweth to be used. Sothly, withouten causeful evidence mistrust

in jelousy shulde nat be wened in no wyse person commenly;

suche leude wickednesse shulde me nat fynde. He that is wyse

and with yvel wil nat be acomered, can abyde wel his tyme, til

grace and blisse of his service folowing have him so mokel esed,

as his abydinge toforehande hath him disesed.'

'Certes, lady,' quod I tho, 'of nothing me wondreth, sithen

thilke blisse so precious is and kyndly good, and wel is and worthy

in kynde whan it is medled with love and reson, as ye toforn

have declared. Why, anon as hye oon is spronge, why springeth

nat the tother? And anon as the oon cometh, why receyveth nat

the other? For every thing that is out of his kyndly place, by ful

appetyt ever cometh thiderward kyndely to drawe; and his kyndly

being ther-to him constrayneth. And the kyndly stede of this

blisse is in suche wil medled to †onbyde, and nedes in that it

shulde have his kyndly being. Wherfore me thinketh, anon as that

wil to be shewed and kid him profreth, thilke blisse shulde him

hye, thilk wil to receyve; or els kynde[s] of goodnesse worchen

nat in hem as they shulde. Lo, be the sonne never so fer, ever

[126]

it hath his kynde werching in erthe. Greet weight on hye on-lofte

caried stinteth never til it come to †his resting-place. Waters

to the see-ward ever ben they drawing. Thing that is light

blythly wil nat sinke, but ever ascendeth and upward draweth.

Thus kynde in every thing his kyndly cours and his beinge-place

sheweth. Wherfore †by kynde, on this good wil, anon as it were

spronge, this blisse shulde thereon discende; her kynde[s] wolde,

they dwelleden togider; and so have ye sayd your-selfe.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'thyne herte sitteth wonder sore, this blisse

for to have; thyne herte is sore agreved that it tarieth so longe;

and if thou durstest, as me thinketh by thyne wordes, this blisse

woldest thou blame. But yet I saye, thilke blisse is kyndly good,

and his kyndely place [is] in that wil to †onbyde. Never-the-later,

their comming togider, after kyndes ordinaunce, nat sodaynly

may betyde; it muste abyde tyme, as kynde yeveth him leve.

For if a man, as this wil medled gonne him shewe, and thilke

blisse in haste folowed, so lightly comminge shulde lightly cause

going. Longe tyme of thursting causeth drink to be the more

delicious whan it is atasted.'

'How is it,' quod I than, 'that so many blisses see I al day at

myne eye, in the firste moment of a sight, with suche wil accorde?

Ye, and yet other-whyle with wil assenteth, singulerly by him-selfe;

there reson fayleth, traveyle was non; service had no tyme. This

is a queynt maner thing, how suche doing cometh aboute.'

'O,' quod she, 'that is thus. The erthe kyndely, after sesons

and tymes of the yere, bringeth forth innumerable herbes and

trees, bothe profitable and other; but suche as men might leve

100

(though they nought in norisshinge to mannes kynde serven, or

els suche as tournen sone unto mennes confusion, in case that

therof they ataste), comen forth out of the erthe by their owne

kynde, withouten any mannes cure or any businesse in traveyle.

And the ilke herbes that to mennes lyvelode necessarily serven,

105

without whiche goodly in this lyfe creatures mowen nat enduren,

and most ben †norisshinge to mankynde, without greet traveyle,

greet tilthe, and longe abydinge-tyme, comen nat out of the erthe,

and [y]it with sede toforn ordayned, suche herbes to make springe

[127]

and forth growe. Right so the parfit blisse, that we have in meninge

110

of during-tyme to abyde, may nat come so lightly, but with greet

traveyle and right besy tilth; and yet good seed to be sowe; for

ofte the croppe fayleth of badde seede, be it never so wel traveyled.

And thilke blisse thou spoke of so lightly in comming, trewly, is

nat necessary ne abydinge; and but it the better be stamped,

115

and the venomous jeuse out-wrongen, it is lykely to enpoysonen

al tho that therof tasten. Certes, right bitter ben the herbes that

shewen first [in] the yere of her own kynde. Wel the more is the

harvest that yeldeth many graynes, tho longe and sore it hath ben

traveyled. What woldest thou demen if a man wold yeve three

120

quarters of nobles of golde? That were a precious gift?'

'Ye, certes,' quod I.

'And what,' quod she, 'three quarters ful of perles?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'that were a riche gift.'

'And what,' quod she, 'of as mokel azure?'

125

Quod I, 'a precious gift at ful.'

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

'In good faith,' quod I, 'for wanting of Englissh naming of

so noble a worde, I can not, for preciousnesse, yeve it a name.'

'Rightfully,' quod she, 'hast thou demed; and yet love, knit

130

in vertue, passeth al the gold in this erthe. Good wil, accordant

to reson, with no maner propertè may be countrevayled. Al the

azure in the worlde is nat to accompte in respect of reson. Love

that with good wil and reson accordeth, with non erthly riches

may nat ben amended. This yeft hast thou yeven, I know it

135

my-selfe, and thy Margarite thilke gift hath receyved; in whiche

thinge to rewarde she hath her-selfe bounde. But thy gift, as

I said, by no maner riches may be amended; wherfore, with

thinge that may nat be amended, thou shalt of thy Margarites

rightwisenesse be rewarded. Right suffred yet never but every

140

good dede somtyme to be yolde. Al wolde thy Margarite with

no rewarde thee quyte, right, that never-more dyeth, thy mede in

merit wol purvey. Certes, such sodayn blisse as thou first

nempnest, right wil hem rewarde as thee wel is worthy; and

though at thyn eye it semeth, the reward the desert to passe,

145

right can after sende suche bitternesse, evenly it to rewarde. So

[128]

that sodayn blisse, by al wayes of reson, in gret goodnesse may

not ben acompted; but blisse long, both long it abydeth, and

endlesse it wol laste. See why thy wil is endelesse. For if thou

lovedest ever, thy wil is ever ther t'abyde and neveremore to

150

chaunge; evenhed of rewarde must ben don by right; than muste

nedes thy grace and this blisse [ben] endelesse in joye to †onbyde.

Evenliche disese asketh evenliche joye, whiche hastely thou shalt

have.'

'A!' quod I, 'it suffyseth not than alone good wil, be it never

155

so wel with reson medled, but-if it be in good service longe

travayled. And so through service shul men come to the joye;

and this, me thinketh, shulde be the wexing tree, of which ye first

meved.*

Ch. V. 2. fre. 4. greatnesse. 6. ioy. * A break here in Th. 8. Nowe. 10. meane. 12. the. 15. fruite. 16. al thoughe. 17. the. 24. somdele. 25. great. wethers; read weders. 28. hert. 29. displeased. nowe. 31. to-forne. hert great plentie. 33. thynge.

38. vndone. 41. disease. 42. thorowe. 47. I supply maner. 49. catcheth. 50. venyme. 53. trust. meane. 54. owen; read oweth. 58. eased. 59. diseased. 62. reason. 63. one. sprong. 64. anone. one. 66. appetite. thiderwarde. 68. vnbyde; read onbyde. 70. kydde. 71. kynde; read kyndes. 72. ferre.

73. great. 74. this; read his. 75. see warde. 77. course. 78. be; read by. 79. kynde; read kyndes. 80. sayde. 81-2. hert. 85. I supply is. vnbyde; read onbyde. 87. maye. leaue. 90. drinke. 92. Howe. se. daye. 95. reason. none. 96. thynge howe. 97. seasons. 98. forthe. 99. leaue. 100. they were nought; omit were. 101. soone. 102. forthe. 106. norisshen; read norisshinge. 106-7. great (twice). 108. it; read yit; see l. 111. seede toforne. spring.

109. forthe. parfyte. meanynge. 110. great. 111. seede. 117. I supply in. 119-122. thre (twice). 122. peerles. 123-6. gifte (thrice). 129. haste. knytte. 130. golde. 131. reason. 132. respecte. 132-3. reason (twice). 136. gifte. 141. the. 142. sodayne. 143. the. 144. rewarde.

146. sodayne. reason. 148. last. Se. 149. tabyde. 151. I supply ben. ioy. vnbyde (!). 152. ioy. 157. tre. * A break here in Th.

CHAPTER VI.

Now, lady,' quod I, 'that tree to sette, fayn wolde I lerne.'

'So thou shalt,' quod she, 'er thou depart hence. The

first thing, thou muste sette thy werke on grounde siker and good,

accordaunt to thy springes. For if thou desyre grapes, thou

goest not to the hasel; ne, for to fecchen roses, thou sekest not

on okes; and if thou shalt have hony-soukels, thou levest the

frute of the soure docke. Wherfore, if thou desyre this blisse in

parfit joye, thou must sette thy purpos there vertue foloweth, and

not to loke after the bodily goodes; as I sayd whan thou were

wryting in thy seconde boke. And for thou hast set thy-selfe in

so noble a place, and utterly lowed in thyn herte the misgoing of

thy first purpos, this †setling is the esier to springe, and the more

lighter thy soule in grace to be lissed. And trewly thy desyr,

that is to say, thy wil algates mot ben stedfast in this mater without

any chaunginge; for if it be stedfast, no man may it voyde.'

'Yes, pardè,' quod I, 'my wil may ben turned by frendes, and

disese of manace and thretning in lesinge of my lyfe and of my

limmes, and in many other wyse that now cometh not to mynde.

And also it mot ofte ben out of thought; for no remembraunce

may holde oon thing continuelly in herte, be it never so lusty

desyred.'

[129]

'Now see,' quod she, 'thou thy wil shal folowe, thy free wil to

be grounded continuelly to abyde. It is thy free wil, that thou

lovest and hast loved, and yet shal loven this Margaryte-perle;

and in thy wil thou thinkest to holde it. Than is thy wil knit

in love, not to chaunge for no newe lust besyde; this wil techeth

thyn herte from al maner varying. But than, although thou be

thretened in dethe or els in otherwyse, yet is it in thyn arbitrement

to chose, thy love to voyde or els to holde; and thilke

arbitrement is in a maner a jugement bytwene desyr and thy

herte. And if thou deme to love thy good wil fayleth, than art

thou worthy no blisse that good wil shulde deserve; and if thou

chose continuaunce in thy good service, than thy good wil

abydeth; nedes, blisse folowing of thy good wil must come by

strength of thilke jugement; for thy first wil, that taught thyn

herte to abyde, and halt it from th'eschaunge, with thy reson

is accorded. Trewly, this maner of wil thus shal abyde; impossible

it were to turne, if thy herte be trewe; and if every

man diligently the meninges of his wil consider, he shal wel

understande that good wil, knit with reson, but in a false herte

never is voyded; for power and might of keping this good wil is

thorow libertè of arbitrement in herte, but good wil to kepe

may not fayle. Eke than if it fayle, it sheweth it-selfe that good

wil in keping is not there. And thus false wil, that putteth out

the good, anon constrayneth the herte to accorde in lovinge of

thy good wil; and this accordaunce bitwene false wil and thyn

herte, in falsitè ben lykened †togider. Yet a litel wol I say

thee in good wil, thy good willes to rayse and strengthe. Tak

hede to me (quod she) how thy willes thou shalt understande.

Right as ye han in your body dyvers membres, and fyve sondrye

wittes, everiche apart to his owne doing, whiche thinges as

instrumentes ye usen; as, your handes apart to handle; feet,

to go; tonge, to speke; eye, to see: right so the soule hath

in him certayne steringes and strengthes, whiche he useth as

instrumentes to his certayne doinges. Reson is in the soule,

which he useth, thinges to knowe and to prove; and wil, whiche

he useth to wilne; and yet is neyther wil ne reson al the soule;

but everich of hem is a thing by him-selfe in the soule. And

[130]

right as everich hath thus singuler instrumentes by hemselfe,

they han as wel dyvers aptes and dyvers maner usinges; and

thilke aptes mowen in wil ben cleped affeccions. Affeccion is

an instrument of willinge in his apetytes. Wherfore mokel folk

sayn, if a resonable creatures soule any thing fervently wilneth,

affectuously he wilneth; and thus may wil, by terme of equivocas,

in three wayes ben understande. Oon is instrument of willing;

another is affection of this instrument; and the third is use, that

setteth it a-werke. Instrument of willing is thilke strength of the

soule, which that constrayneth to wilne, right as reson is instrument

of resons, which ye usen whan ye loken. Affeccion of this

instrument is a thing, by whiche ye be drawe desyrously any-thing

to wilne in coveitous maner, al be it for the tyme out

of your mynde; as, if it come in your thought thilke thing to

remembre, anon ye ben willing thilke to done or els to have.

And thus is instrument wil; and affeccion is wil also, to wilne

thing as I said; as, for to wilne helth, whan wil nothing theron

thinketh; for anon as it cometh to memorie, it is in wil. And so

is affeccion to wilne slepe, whan it is out of mynde; but anon

as it is remembred, wil wilneth slepe, whan his tyme cometh of

the doinge. For affeccion of wil never accordeth to sicknesse,

ne alway to wake. Right so, in a true lovers affeccion of willing,

instrument is to wilne tr[o]uthe in his service; and this affeccion

alway abydeth, although he be sleping or thretned, or els not

theron thinking; but anon as it cometh to mynde, anon he is

stedfast in that wil to abyde. Use of this instrument forsothe

is another thing by himselfe; and that have ye not but whan

ye be doing in willed thing, by affect or instrument of wil

purposed or desyred; and this maner of usage in my service

wysely nedeth to be ruled from wayters with envy closed, from

spekers ful of jangeling wordes, from proude folk and hautayn,

that lambes and innocentes bothe scornen and dispysen. Thus

in doing varieth the actes of willinge everich from other, and yet

ben they cleped "wil," and the name of wil utterly owen they to

have; as instrument of wil is wil, whan ye turne in-to purpos of

any thing to don, be it to sitte or to stande, or any such thing

els. This instrument may ben had, although affect and usage be

left out of doing; right as ye have sight and reson, and yet alway

[131]

use ye* †nat to loke, [ne] thinges with resonning to prove; and so

is instrument of wil, wil; and yet varyeth he from effect and

using bothe. Affeccion of wil also for wil is cleped, but it varyeth

100

from instrument in this maner wyse, by that nameliche, whan it

cometh in-to mynde, anon-right it is in willinge desyred, and the

negatif therof with willing nil not acorde; this is closed in herte,

though usage and instrument slepe. This slepeth whan instrument

and us[e] waken; and of suche maner affeccion, trewly,

105

some man hath more and some man lesse. Certes, trewe lovers

wenen ever therof to litel to have. False lovers in litel wenen

have right mokel. Lo, instrument of wil in false and trewe

bothe, evenliche is proporcioned; but affeccion is more in some

places than in some, bycause of the goodnesse that foloweth, and

110

that I thinke hereafter to declare. Use of this instrument is wil,

but it taketh his name whan wilned thing is in doing; but utterly

grace to cacche in thy blisse †desyreth to ben rewarded. Thou

most have than affeccion of wil at the ful, and use whan his

tyme asketh wysely to ben governed. Sothly, my disciple,

115

without fervent affeccion of wil may no man ben saved. This

affeccion of good service in good love may not ben grounded,

without fervent desyr to the thing in wil coveited. But he that

never reccheth to have or not to have, affeccion of wil in that

hath no resting-place. Why? For whan thing cometh to mynde,

120

and it be not taken in hede to comin or not come, therfore in

that place affeccion fayleth; and, for thilke affeccion is so litel,

thorow whiche in goodnesse he shulde come to his grace, the

litelnesse wil it not suffre to avayle by no way in-to his helpes.

Certes, grace and reson thilke affeccion foloweth. This affeccion,

125

with reson knit, dureth in everiche trewe herte, and evermore

is encresing; no ferdnesse, no strength may it remove, whyle

tr[o]uthe in herte abydeth. Sothly, whan falsheed ginneth entre,

tr[o]uthe draweth away grace and joye bothe; but than thilke

falsheed, that trouth[e] hath thus voyded, hath unknit the bond

130

of understanding reson bytwene wil and the herte. And who-so

that bond undoth, and unknitteth wil to be in other purpose

than to the first accorde, knitteth him with contrarye of reson;

[132]

and that is unreson. Lo, than, wil and unreson bringeth a man

from the blisse of grace; whiche thing, of pure kynde, every man

135

ought to shonne and to eschewe, and to the knot of wil and reson

confirme.

Me thinketh,' quod she, 'by thy studient lokes, thou wenest in

these wordes me to contrarien from other sayinges here-toforn

in other place, as whan thou were somtyme in affeccion of wil to

140

thinges that now han brought thee in disese, which I have thee

consayled to voyde, and thyn herte discover; and there I made

thy wil to ben chaunged, whiche now thou wenest I argue to

with[h]olde and to kepe! Shortly I say, the revers in these

wordes may not ben founde; for though dronkennesse be forboden,

145

men shul not alway ben drinklesse. I trowe right, for

thou thy wil out of reson shulde not tourne, thy wil in one reson

shulde not †onbyde. I say, thy wil in thy first purpos with

unreson was closed; constrewe forth of the remenant what thee

good lyketh. Trewly, that wil and reson shulde be knit togider,

150

was free wil of reson; after tyme thyne herte is assentaunt to them

bothe, thou might not chaunge. But if thou from rule of reson

varye, in whiche variaunce to come to thilke blisse desyred,

contrariously thou werchest; and nothing may knowe wil and reson

but love alone. Than if thou voide love, than †weyvest [thou]

155

the bond that knitteth; and so nedes, or els right lightly, that

other gon a-sondre; wherfore thou seest apertly that love holdeth

this knot, and amaystreth hem to be bounde. These thinges, as

a ring in circuit of wrethe, ben knit in thy soule without departing.'

'A! let be! let be!' quod I; 'it nedeth not of this no

160

rehersayle to make; my soule is yet in parfit blisse, in thinking of

that knotte!'*

Ch. VI. 1. Nowe. set fayne. 3. set. 5. fetchen. 6. leauest. 8. parfite ioy. set. purpose. 10. booke. haste. 12. purpose. setteles; read setling. 13. desyre. 14. mote. 15-16. maye (twice). 17. disease. 18. nowe. 19. mote. 20. one.

32. Nowe se. 22, 23. frewyl (twice). 24. haste. 26. teacheth. 27. varyeng. 30. desyre. 31. arte. 36. halte. 38. hert. 40. reason. 42. thorowe. hert. 45. anone. 47. togyther. 48. the. strength. Take. 49. howe. 51-2. aparte (twice). 52. fete. 53. se. 55. Reason. 57. reason.

61. affections. Affection. 62. folke. 65. thre. One. 68. reason. 69. Affection. 74. affection. 75. thynge. 77-81. affection (four times). 86. affecte. 93. purpose. 94. syt.

97. * A break here in Th. ne ought; read nat. I supply ne. 98. effecte. 99. Affection. 100. name lyche. 102. negatyfe. 103. thoughe. 104. vs. 104-8. affection (twice). 112. catche. desyred; read desyreth. 113. muste. affection (often). 117. desyre. 118. retcheth. 120. comyn. 124-5. reason (twice). 125. knytte. 126. encreasyng. maye. 128. ioy. both. 129. bonde. 130-2. reason. 131. bonde vndothe.

133. unreason (twice). 135. reason. 138. sayenges. toforne. 139. affection. 140. nowe. the. disease. the. 146. reason (twice). 147. vnbyde; read onbyde. purpose. 148. unreason. remenante. the. 150. fre. 149-151. reason (thrice). 154. weuest; read weyvest thou. 155. bonde. 156. gone. 158. ringe. 160. parfyte. * A break here in Th.

CHAPTER VII.

'Very trouth,' quod she, 'hast thou now conceyved of these

thinges in thyne herte; hastely shalt thou be able very

joye and parfit blisse to receyve; and now, I wot wel, thou

desyrest to knowe the maner of braunches that out of the tree

shulde springe.'

[133]

'Therof, lady,' quod I, 'hertely I you pray; for than leve

I †wel, that right sone after I shal ataste of the frute that I so

long have desyred.'

'Thou hast herd,' quod she, 'in what wyse this tree toforn this

have I declared, as in grounde and in stocke of wexing. First,

the ground shulde be thy free wil, ful in thyne herte; and the

stocke (as I sayde) shulde be continuaunce in good service by

long tyme in traveyle, til it were in greetnesse right wel woxen.

And whan this tree suche greetnesse hath caught as I have

rehersed, the braunches than, that the frute shulde forth-bringe,

speche must they be nedes, in voice of prayer in complayning

wyse used.'

'Out! alas!' quod I tho, 'he is soroufully wounded that

hydeth his speche, and spareth his complayntes to make! What

shal I speke the care? But payne, even lyk to helle, sore hath

me assayled, and so ferforth in payne me thronge, that I leve my

tree is seer, and never shal it frute forth bringe! Certes, he is

greetly esed, that dare his prevy mone discover to a true felowe,

that conning hath and might, wherthrough his pleint in any thinge

may ben amended. And mokel more is he joyed, that with herte

of hardinesse dare complayne to his lady what cares that he

suffreth, by hope of mercy with grace to be avaunced. Truely

I saye for me, sithe I cam this Margarit to serve, durst I never me

discover of no maner disese; and wel the later hath myn herte

hardyed suche thinges to done, for the grete bountees and worthy

refresshmentes that she of her grace goodly, without any desert on

my halve, ofte hath me rekened. And nere her goodnesse the

more with grace and with mercy medled, which passen al desertes,

traveyls, and servinges that I in any degre might endite, I wolde

wene I shulde be without recover, in getting of this blisse for

ever! Thus have I stilled my disese; thus have I covered my

care; that I brenne in sorouful anoy, as gledes and coles wasten

a fyr under deed asshen. Wel the hoter is the fyr that with

asshen it is overleyn. Right longe this wo have I suffred.'

'Lo,' quod Love, 'how thou farest! Me thinketh, the palasy-yvel

hath acomered thy wittes; as faste as thou hyest forward,

anon sodaynly backward thou movest! Shal nat yet al thy

leudnesse out of thy braynes? Dul ben thy skilful understandinges;

[134]

thy wil hath thy wit so amaistred. Wost thou nat wel (quod she)

but every tree, in his sesonable tyme of burjoninge, shewe his

blomes fro within, in signe of what frute shulde out of him

springe, els the frute for that yere men halt delivered, be the

ground never so good? And though the stocke be mighty at

the ful, and the braunches seer, and no burjons shewe, farwel the

gardiner! He may pype with an yvè-lefe; his frute is fayled.

Wherfore thy braunches must burjonen in presence of thy lady, if

thou desyre any frute of thy ladies grace. But beware of thy lyfe,

that thou no wode lay use, as in asking of thinges that strecchen

in-to shame! For than might thou nat spede, by no maner way

that I can espy. Vertue wol nat suffre villany out of him-selfe to

springe. Thy wordes may nat be queynt, ne of subtel maner

understandinge. Freel-witted people supposen in suche poesies

to be begyled; in open understandinge must every word be used.

"Voice without clere understanding of sentence," saith Aristotel,

"right nought printeth in herte." Thy wordes than to abyde in

herte, and clene in ful sentence of trewe mening, platly must

thou shewe; and ever be obedient, her hestes and her wils to

performe; and be thou set in suche a wit, to wete by a loke

ever-more what she meneth. And he that list nat to speke, but

stilly his disese suffer, what wonder is it, tho[ugh] he come never

to his blisse? Who that traveyleth unwist, and coveyteth thing

unknowe, unweting he shal be quyted, and with unknowe thing

rewarded.'

'Good lady,' quod I than, 'it hath ofte be sene, that †weders

and stormes so hugely have falle in burjoning-tyme, and by perte

duresse han beten of the springes so clene, wherthrough the frute

of thilke yere hath fayled. It is a greet grace, whan burjons han

good †weders, their frutes forth to bringe. Alas! than, after

suche stormes, how hard is it to avoyde, til efte wedring and

yeres han maked her circute cours al about, er any frute be able

to be tasted! He is shent for shame, that foule is rebuked of his

speche. He that is in fyre brenning sore smarteth for disese;

him thinketh ful long er the water come, that shulde the fyr

quenche. While men gon after a leche, the body is buryed.

Lo! how semely this frute wexeth! Me thinketh, that of tho

[135]

frutes may no man ataste, for pure bitternesse in savour. In this

wyse bothe frute and the tree wasten away togider, though mokel

besy occupacion have be spent, to bringe it so ferforth that it

was able to springe. A lyte speche hath maked that al this labour

is in ydel.'

'I not,' quod she, 'wherof it serveth, thy question to assoyle.

Me thinketh thee now duller in wittes than whan I with thee first

mette. Although a man be leude, commenly for a fole he is nat

demed but-if he no good wol lerne. Sottes and foles lete lightly

out of mynde the good that men techeth hem. I sayd therfore,

thy stocke must be stronge, and in greetnesse wel herted: the

tree is ful feble that at the firste dent falleth. And although frute

fayleth oon yere or two, yet shal suche a seson come oon tyme or

other, that shal bringe out frute that [is parfit]. *Fole, have I not

seyd toforn this, as tyme hurteth, right so ayenward tyme heleth

and rewardeth; and a tree oft fayled is holde more in deyntee

whan it frute forth bringeth. A marchaunt that for ones lesinge

in the see no more to aventure thinketh, he shal never with

aventure come to richesse. So ofte must men on the oke smyte,

100

til the happy dent have entred, whiche with the okes owne swaye

maketh it to come al at ones. So ofte falleth the lethy water on

the harde rocke, til it have thorow persed it. The even draught

of the wyr-drawer maketh the wyr to ben even and supple-werchinge;

and if he stinted in his draught, the wyr breketh

105

a-sonder. Every tree wel springeth, whan it is wel grounded and

not often removed.'

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

'Grace,' quod she, 'in parfit joy to endure; and therwith thou

begon[ne].'

110

'Grace?' quod I; 'me thinketh, I shulde have a reward for my

longe travayle?'

'I shal telle thee,' quod she; 'retribucion of thy good willes

to have of thy Margarite-perle, it bereth not the name of mede,

but only of good grace; and that cometh not of thy desert, but

115

of thy Margarytes goodnesse and vertue alone.'

Quod I, 'shulde al my longe travayle have no reward but thorow

[136]

grace? And som-tyme your-selven sayd, rightwisnesse evenliche

rewardeth, to quyte oon benefit for another.'

'That is sothe,' quod Love, 'ever as I sayde, as to him that

120

doth good, which to done he were neyther holden ne yet

constrayned.'

'That is sothe,' quod I.

'Trewly,' quod she, 'al that ever thou doest to thyne Margaryte-perle,

of wil, of love, and of reson thou owest to done it; it is

125

nothing els but yelding of thy dette in quytinge of thy grace, which

she thee lente whan ye first mette.'

'I wene,' quod I, 'right litel grace to me she delivered.

Certes, it was harde grace; it hath nyghe me astrangled.'

'That it was good grace, I wot wel thou wilt it graunte, er

130

thou departe hence. If any man yeve to another wight, to whom

that he ought not, and whiche that of him-selfe nothing may

have, a garnement or a cote, though he were the cote or els

thilke clothing, it is not to putte to him that was naked the cause

of his clothinge, but only to him that was yever of the garnement.

135

Wherfore I saye, thou that were naked of love, and of thy-selfe

non have mightest, it is not to putte to thyne owne persone,

sithen thy love cam thorow thy Margaryte-perle. Ergo, she was

yever of the love, although thou it use; and there lente she thee

grace, thy service to beginne. She is worthy the thank of this

140

grace, for she was the yever. Al the thoughtes, besy doinges,

and plesaunce in thy might and in thy wordes that thou canst

devyse, ben but right litel in quytinge of thy dette; had she not

ben, suche thing hadde not ben studyed. So al these maters

kyndly drawen hom-ward to this Margaryte-perle, for from thence

145

were they borowed; al is hoolly her to wyte, the love that thou

havest; and thus quytest thou thy dette, in that thou stedfastly

servest. And kepe wel that love, I thee rede, that of her thou

hast borowed, and use it in her service thy dette to quyte; and

than art thou able right sone to have grace; wherfore after mede

150

in none halve mayst thou loke. Thus thy ginning and ending is

but grace aloon; and in thy good deserving thy dette thou

aquytest; without grace is nothing worth, what-so-ever thou

[137]

werche. Thanke thy Margaryte of her grete grace that †hiderto

thee hath gyded, and praye her of continuaunce forth in thy

155

werkes herafter; and that, for no mishappe, thy grace overthwartly

tourne. Grace, glorie, and joye is coming thorow good

folkes desertes; and by getting of grace, therin shullen ende.

And what is more glorie or more joye than wysdom and love

in parfit charitè, whiche god hath graunted to al tho that wel

160

†conne deserve?' And with that this lady al at ones sterte in-to

my herte: 'here wol I onbyde,' quod she, 'for ever, and never

wol I gon hence; and I wol kepe thee from medlinge while me

liste here onbyde; thyne entermeting maners in-to stedfastnesse

shullen be chaunged.'

7. wol; read wel. soone. atast. 9. herde. tre. 11. grounde. frewyl. hert. 13. greatnesse. 14. gretnesse. 20. lyke. hel. 22. tre. bring. 23. greatly eased. 28. came. 29. disease. 30. great bounties. 36. disease. 37. bren. 38. fyre (twice). 40. howe. 41. forwarde. 42. backwarde.

47. spring. halte. 48. grounde. 53. wodelay. stretchen. 56. spring. 58. worde. 60-1. hert (twice). 64. meaneth. 65. disease. 69. wethers; read weders. 70. fal. 71. beaten. 72. great. 73. wethers; read weders. forthe. 74. howe harde. 77. disease. 78. fyre. 79. gone. 80. howe.

81. maye. sauoure. 83. occupation. spente. ferforthe. 84. spring. 87. the nowe. 89. fooles lette. 90. teacheth. 91. greatnesse. 93. one (twice). season. 94. I supply is parfit. * A break here in Th. 95. healeth. 96. deyntie. 97. forthe. 102. thorowe. 103-4. wyre (thrice). 104. breaketh. 105. tre. 107. nowe. 108. parfyte. 109. begon; read begonne. 110. rewarde. 112. tel the. 113. beareth. 114. onely. deserte. 116. rewarde. thorowe.

118. one benefyte. 120. dothe. 124. catchword it is; misprinted yet is on the next page. 126. the lent. 127. lytle. 129. graunt. 131. nothynge maye. 132. weare. 133. put; read putte. 134. onely. 136. put. 137. came thorowe. 138. althoughe. lent. the. 139. thanke. 141. canste. 144. homewarde. 145. holy. 147. the. 149. arte. 151. alone. 152. worthe.

153. great. hytherto; read hiderto. 154. the. forthe. 156. thorowe. 158. wysdome. 159. parfyte. 160. canne; read conne. 161. hert.

CHAPTER VIII.

Soberliche tho threw I up myn eyen, and hugely tho was

I astonyed of this sodayne adventure; and fayn wolde I have

lerned, how vertues shulden ben knowen; in whiche thinges,

I hope to god, here-after she shal me enfourmen; and namely,

sithen her restinge-place is now so nygh at my wil; and anon al

these thinges that this lady said, I remembred me by my-selfe, and

revolved the †lynes of myne understondinge wittes. Tho found

I fully al these maters parfitly there written, how mis-rule by

fayned love bothe realmes and citees hath governed a greet

throwe; how lightly me might the fautes espye; how rules in love

shulde ben used; how somtyme with fayned love foule I was

begyled; how I shulde love have knowe; and how I shal in love

with my service procede. Also furthermore I found, of perdurable

letters wonderly there graven, these maters whiche I shal nempne.

Certes, non age ne other thing in erthe may the leest sillable of

this in no poynte deface, but clerely as the sonne in myne

understandinge soule they shynen. This may never out of my mynde,

how I may not my love kepe, but thorow willinge in herte; wilne

to love may I not, but I lovinge have. Love have I non, but

thorow grace of this Margarite-perle. It is no maner doute, that

wil wol not love but for it is lovinge, as wil wol not rightfully but

[138]

for it is rightful it-selve. Also wil is not lovinge for he wol love;

but he wol love for he is lovinge; it is al oon to †wilne to be

lovinge, and lovinges in possession to have. Right so wil wol not

love, for of love hath he no partie. And yet I denye not lovinge

wil [may] wilne more love to have, whiche that he hath not whan

he wolde more than he hath; but I saye, he may no love wilne

if he no love have, through which thilke love he shuld wilne. But

to have this loving wil may no man of him-selfe, but only through

grace toforn-going; right so may no man it kepe, but by grace

folowinge. Consider now every man aright, and let seen if that

any wight of him-selfe mowe this loving wel gete, and he therof

first nothing have; for if it shulde of him-selfe springe, either it

muste be willing or not willing. Willing by him-selfe may he it not

have, sithen him fayleth the mater that shulde it forth bringe.

The mater him fayleth; why? He may therof have no knowing

til whan grace put it in his herte. Thus willing by him-selfe may

he it not have; and not willing, may he it not have. Pardè,

every conseyt of every resonable creature otherwyse wil [wol] not

graunte; wil in affirmatif with not willing by no way mowe acorde.

And although this loving wol come in myn herte by freenesse of

arbitrement, as in this booke fully is shewed, yet owe I not therfore

as moche alowe my free wil as grace of that Margaryte to me

lened. For neyther might I, without grace to-forn going and

afterward folowing, thilke grace gete ne kepe; and lese shal I it

never but-if free wil it make, as in willinge otherwyse than grace

hath me graunted. For right as whan any person taketh willing

to be sobre, and throweth that away, willing to be dronke; or els

taketh wil of drinking out of mesure; whiche thing, anon as it is

don, maketh (thorow his owne gilte by free wil) that [he] leseth

his grace. In whiche thing therfore upon the nobley of grace

I mote trusten, and my besy cure sette thilke grace to kepe, that

my free wil, otherwyse than by reson it shulde werche, cause not

my grace to voyde: for thus must I bothe loke to free wil and to

grace. For right as naturel usage in engendring of children may

not ben without †fader, ne also but with the †moder, for neyther

†fader ne †moder in begetting may it lacke; right so grace and

[139]

free wil accorden, and withoute hem bothe may not lovinge wil in

no partie ben getten. But yet is not free wil in gettinge of that

thing so mokel thank-worthy as is grace, ne in the kepinge therof

so moche thank deserveth; and yet in gettinge and keping bothe

don they accorde. Trewly, often-tyme grace free wil helpeth, in

fordoinge of contrarye thinges, that to willinge love not accorden,

and †strengtheth wil adversitees to withsitte; wherfore †al-togider

to grace oweth to ben accepted, that my willing deserveth. Free

wil to lovinge in this wyse is accorded. I remembre me wel how

al this book (who-so hede taketh) considereth [how] al thinges to

werchinges of mankynde evenly accordeth, as in turning of this

worde 'love' in-to trouthe or els rightwisnesse, whether that it

lyke. For what thing that falleth to man in helping of free

arbitrement, thilke rightwisnesse to take or els to kepe, thorow

whiche a man shal be saved (of whiche thing al this book mencion

hath maked), in every poynte therof grace oweth to be thanked.

Wherfore I saye, every wight havinge this rightwisnesse rightful

is; and yet therfore I fele not in my conscience, that to al

rightful is behoten the blisse everlastinge, but to hem that ben

rightful withouten any unrightfulnesse. Some man after some degree

may rightfully ben accompted as chaste men in living, and yet ben

they janglers and ful of envy pressed; to hem shal this blisse

never ben delivered. For right as very blisse is without al maner

nede, right so to no man shal it be yeven but to the rightful, voyde

from al maner unrightfulnesse founde; so no man to her blisse

shal ben folowed, but he be rightful, and with unrightfulnesse not

bounde, and in that degree fully be knowe. This rightfulnesse,

in as moche as in him-selfe is, of none yvel is it cause; and of al

maner goodnesse, trewly, it is †moder. This helpeth the spirit

to withsitte the leude lustes of flesshly lykinge. This strengtheth

and maintayneth the lawe of kynde; and if that otherwhyle me

weneth harm of this precious thing to folowe, therthorough is [it]

nothing the cause; of somwhat els cometh it aboute, who-so

taketh hede. By rightfulnesse forsothe wern many holy sayntes

good savour in swetenesse to god almighty; but that to some

folkes they weren savour of dethe, in-to deedly ende, that com

not of the sayntes rightwisnesse, but of other wicked mennes

[140]

badnesse hath proceded. Trewly, the ilke wil, whiche that the

Lady of Love me lerned 'affeccion of wil' to nempne, which is

in willing of profitable thinges, yvel is it not, but whan to flesshly

lustes it consenteth ayenst reson of soule. But that this thing

more clerely be understande, it is for to knowe, whence and how

100

thilke wil is so vicious, and so redy yvel dedes to perfourme.

Grace at the ginninge ordeyned thilke wil in goodnesse ever to

have endured, and never to badnesse have assented. Men shulde

not byleve, that god thilke wil maked to be vicious [in] our firste

†faders, as Adam and Eve; for vicious appetytes, and vicious wil

105

to suche appetytes consentinge, ben not on thing in kynde; other

thing is don for the other. And how this wil first in-to man first

assented, I holde it profitable to shewe; but if the first condicion

of resonable creature wol be considred and apertly loked, lightly

the cause of suche wil may be shewed. Intencion of god was,

110

that rightfully and blissed shulde resonable nature ben maked,

himselfe for to kepe; but neyther blisful ne rightful might it not

be, withouten wil in them bothe. Wil of rightfulnesse is thilke

same rightfulnesse, as here-to-forn is shewed; but wil of blisse

is not thilke blisse, for every man hath not thilke blisse, in whom

115

the wil therof is abydinge. In this blisse, after every

understandinge, is suffisaunce of covenable comoditees without any

maner nede, whether it be blisse of aungels or els thilke that

grace first in paradise suffred Adam to have. For al-though

angels blisse be more than Adams was in paradyse, yet may it not

120

be †denyed, that Adam in paradyse ne had suffisaunce of blisse;

for right as greet herte is without al maner of coldenesse, and yet

may another herte more hete have; right so nothing defended

Adam in paradyse to ben blessed, without al maner nede.

Al-though aungels blisse be moche more, forsothe, it foloweth

125

not [that], lasse than another to have, therfore him nedeth; but

for to wante a thing whiche that behoveth to ben had, that may

'nede' ben cleped; and that was not in Adam at the first

ginning. God and the Margaryte weten what I mene. Forsothe,

where-as is nede, there is wrecchednesse. †God without cause

130

to-forngoing made not resonable creature wrecched; for him to

[141]

understande and love had he firste maked. God made therfore

man blissed without al maner indigence; †togider and at ones

took resonable creature blisse, and wil of blissednesse, and wil

of rightfulnesse, whiche is rightfulnesse it-selve, and libertee of

135

arbitrement, that is, free wil, with whiche thilke rightfulnesse may

he kepe and lese. So and in that wyse [god] ordayned thilke

two, that wil (whiche that "instrument" is cleped, as here-toforn

mencion is maked) shulde use thilke rightfulnesse, by teching of

his soule to good maner of governaunce, in thought and in wordes;

140

and that it shulde use the blisse in obedient maner, withouten

any incommoditè. Blisse, forsothe, in-to mannes profit, and

rightwisnesse in-to his worship god delivered at ones; but rightfulnesse

so was yeven that man might it lese, whiche if he not lost

had, but continuelly [might] have it kept, he shulde have deserved

145

the avauncement in-to the felowshippe of angels, in whiche thing

if he that loste, never by him-selfe forward shulde he it mowe

ayenward recovere; and as wel the blisse that he was in, as

aungels blisse that to-him-wardes was coming, shulde be nome at

ones, and he deprived of hem bothe. And thus fil man un-to

150

lykenesse of unresonable bestes; and with hem to corrupcion and

unlusty apetytes was he under-throwen. But yet wil of blisse

dwelleth, that by indigence of goodes, whiche that he loste

through greet wrecchednesse, by right shulde he ben punisshed.

And thus, for he weyved rightfulnesse, lost hath he his blisse; but

155

fayle of his desyr in his owne comoditè may he not; and †where

comodites to his resonable nature whiche he hath lost may he not

have, to false lustes, whiche ben bestial appetytes, he is turned.

Folye of unconning hath him begyled, in wening that thilke ben

the comoditees that owen to ben desyred. This affeccion of wil

160

by libertè of arbitrement is enduced to wilne thus thing that

he shulde not; and so is wil not maked yvel but unrightful, by

absence of rightfulnesse, whiche thing by reson ever shulde he

have. And freenesse of arbitrement may he not wilne, whan he it

not haveth; for while he it had, thilke halp it not to kepe; so

165

that without grace may it not ben recovered. Wil of commoditè,

in-as-moche as unrightful it is maked by willinge of yvel lustes, willing

[142]

of goodnesse may he not wilne; for wil of instrument to affeccion

of wil is thralled, sithen that other thing may it not wilne;

for wil of instrument to affeccion desyreth, and yet ben bothe they

170

'wil' cleped. For that instrument wol, through affeccion it wilneth;

and affeccion desyreth thilke thing wherto instrument him ledeth.

And so free wil to unlusty affeccion ful servaunt is maked, for

unrightfulnesse may he not releve; and without rightfulnesse ful

fredom may it never have. For kyndly libertee of arbitrement

175

without it, veyne and ydel is, forsothe. Wherfore yet I say, (as

often have I sayd the same), whan instrument of wil lost hath

rightfulnesse, in no maner but by grace may he ayen retourne

rightfulnesse to wilne. For sithen nothing but rightfulnesse alone

shulde he wilne, what that ever he wilneth without rightfulnesse,

180

unrightfully he it wilneth. These than unrightful appetytes and

unthrifty lustes whiche the †flesh desyreth, in as mokel as they ben

in kynde, ben they nat bad; but they ben unrightful and badde for

they ben in resonable creature, where-as they being, in no waye

shulde ben suffred. In unresonable beestes neyther ben they yvel

185

ne unrightful; for there is their kynde being.

Ch. VIII. 1. threwe. 2. fayne. 3. howe. 5. nowe. nyghe. 7. lyues (!). founde. 8. parfytely. howe. mysse-. 9. cyties. great. 10-12. howe (five times). 13. founde. 15. none. thynge. maye. 17. maye. 18. howe. maye. thorowe. 19. maye. none. 20. thorowe.

23. one. wil; read wilne. 26. I supply may. 27. maye. 29. onely. 30. toforne. maye. 31. nowe. sene. 32. get. 33. nothynge. spring. 35. forthe bring. 36. maye. 39. reasonable. I supply wol. 40. graunt. affyrmatife. 41. hert. frenesse. 43. frewyl (throughout). 44. leaned. 45. afterwarde. get; read gete. 50. done. thorowe. I supply he. 52. set. 53. reason. 55. maye. 56-7. father (twice); read fader. mother (twice); read moder.

57-8. maye. 60. thankeworthy. 61. thanke. 62. done. 64. strength; read strengtheth; see l. 87. al togyther. 66. howe. 67. booke. Supply how. 71. thorowe. 72. booke. 78. maye. 86. mother; read moder. 89. harme. Supply it. 90. nothynge. 91. werne. 93. come; read com.

96. affectyon. 98. reason. thynge. 99. vnderstand. howe. 100. redye. 103. vycious. I insert in; Our (sic). 104. father; read faders. 106. done. howe. 108-110. reasonable (twice). 113. -forne. 119, 122. maye. 120. denyded (!). 121. great. 122. heate. nothynge. 124. thoughe. 125. I supply that. 126. thynge. maye. 128. meane. 129. wretchydnesse. good; read God. 130. reasonable. wretched.

132. togyther. 133. toke reasonable. 134. lybertie. 135. fre. 136. I supply god. 137. cleaped. toforne. 138. teachyng. 141. profyte. 143. not loste had not; I omit second not. 144. I supply might. kepte. 146. forwarde. 147. ayenwarde. 150. vnreasonable. 153. great wretchydnesse. 154. loste. 155. desyre. were; read where. 156. reasonable. loste. 159. affection. 162. reason. 163. frenesse. 164. halpe.

167-170. affection (thrice). 172. frewyl. affection. 173. maye. 174. fredome. libertie. 176. loste. 181. flyes (!); read flesh. 184. vnreasonable.

CHAPTER IX.

Knowen may it wel ben now of these thinges toforn

declared, that man hath not alway thilke rightfulnesse

which by dutè of right evermore haven he shulde, and by no way

by him-selfe may he it gete ne kepe; and after he it hath, if he it

lese, recover shal he it never without especial grace. Wherfore

the comune sentence of the people in opinion, that every thing

after destenee is ruled, false and wicked is to beleve. For though

predestinacion be as wel of good as of badde, sithen that it is

sayd, god †hath destenees made, whiche he never ne wrought; but,

for he suffreth hem to be maked, as that he hardeth, whan he

naught missayth, or †let in-to temptacion, whan he not delivereth:

wherfore it is non inconvenient if in that maner be sayd, god toforn

have destenyed bothe badde and her badde werkes, whan

hem ne their yvel dedes [he] neyther amendeth ne therto hem

grace †leneth. But specialliche, predestinacion of goodnesse

[143]

alone is sayd by these grete clerkes; for in him god doth that

they ben, and that in goodnesse they werchen. But the negatif

herof in badnesse is holden, as the Lady of Love hath me lerned,

who-so aright in this booke loketh. And utterly it is to weten,

that predestinacion properly in god may not ben demed, no more

than beforn-weting. For in the chapitre of goddes beforn-weting,

as Love me rehersed, al these maters apertly may ben founden.

Al thinges to god ben now †togider and in presence duringe.

Trewly, presence and predestinacion in nothing disacorden;

wherfore, as I was lerned how goddes before-weting and free

choice of wil mowe stonden †togider, me thinketh the same reson

me ledeth, that destenye and free wil accorden, so that neyther of

hem bothe to other in nothing contrarieth. And resonabliche

may it not ben demed, as often as any thing falleth [thorow] free

wil werching (as if a man another man wrongfully anoyeth, wherfore

he him sleeth), that it be constrayned to that ende, as mokel

folk cryeth and sayth: 'Lo, as it was destenyed of god toforn

knowe, so it is thorow necessitè falle, and otherwyse might it not

betyde.' Trewly, neyther he that the wrong wrought, ne he that

him-selfe venged, none of thilke thinges thorow necessitè wrought;

for if that [oon] with free wil there had it not willed, neyther had

[he] wrought that he perfourmed; and so utterly grace, that free

wil in goodnesse bringeth and kepeth, and fro badnesse it tourneth,

in al thinge moste thank deserveth. This grace maketh

sentence in vertue to abyde, wherfore in body and in soule, in ful

plentee of conninge, after their good deserving in the everlastinge

joye, after the day of dome shul they endelesse dwelle; and they

shul ben lerned in that kingdom with so mokel affect of love and

of grace, that the leste joye shal of the gretest in glorie rejoice

and ben gladded, as if he the same joye had. What wonder,

sith god is the gretest love and the *gretest wisdom? In hem

shal he be, and they in god. Now than, whan al false folk be

ashamed, which wenen al bestialtè and erthly thing be sweter and

better to the body than hevenly is to the soule; this is the grace

and the frute that I long have desyred; it doth me good the

savour to smelle.

[144]

Crist, now to thee I crye of mercy and of grace; and graunt,

of thy goodnes, to every maner reder ful understanding in this

leude pamflet to have; and let no man wene other cause in

this werke than is verily the soth. For envy is ever redy, al

innocentes to shende; wherfore I wolde that good speche envy

evermore hinder.

But no man wene this werke be sufficiently maked; for goddes

werke passeth man[ne]s; no man[ne]s wit to parfit werke may by no

way purvay th'ende. How shuld I than, so leude, aught wene of

perfeccion any ende to gete? Never-the-later, grace, glorie, and

laude I yelde and putte with worshipful reverences to the sothfast

god, in three with unitè closed, whiche that the hevy langour of

my sicknesse hath turned in-to mirthe of helth to recover. For

right as I was sorowed thorow the gloton cloud of manifolde

sickly sorow, so mirth [of] ayencoming helth hath me glad[d]ed

and gretly comforted. I beseche and pray therfore, and I crye

on goddes gret pitè and on his mokel mercy, that this[e] present

scorges of my flessh mow maken medecyne and lechecraft of

my inner man[ne]s helth; so that my passed trespas and tenes

through weping of myn eyen ben wasshe, and I, voyded from

al maner disese, and no more to wepe herafter, y-now be kept

thorow goddes grace; so that goddes hand, whiche that merciably

me hath scorged, herafter in good plite from thence merciably me

kepe and defende.

In this boke be many privy thinges wimpled and folde; unneth

shul leude men the plites unwinde. Wherfore I pray to the holy

gost, he lene of his oyntmentes, mennes wittes to clere; and, for

goddes love, no man wonder why or how this question come to

my mynde. For my greet lusty desyr was of this lady to ben

enfourmed, my leudenesse to amende. Certes, I knowe not

other mennes wittes, what I shulde aske, or in answere what

I shulde saye; I am so leude my-selfe, that mokel more lerninge

yet me behoveth. I have mad therfore as I coude, but not

sufficiently as I wolde, and as mater yave me sentence; for my

dul wit is hindred by †stepmoder of foryeting and with cloude

of unconning, that stoppeth the light of my Margarite-perle,

wherfore it may not shyne on me as it shulde. I desyre not

[145]

only a good reder, but also I coveite and pray a good book-amender,

in correccion of wordes and of sentence; and only this

mede I coveite for my travayle, that every inseër and herer of

this leude fantasye devoute horisons and prayers to god the greet

juge yelden; and prayen for me in that wyse, that in his dome

my sinnes mowe ben relesed and foryeven. He that prayeth for

other for him-selfe travayleth.

Also I praye, that every man parfitly mowe knowe thorow what

intencion of herte this tretys have I drawe. How was it, that

sightful manna in deserte to children of Israel was spirituel

mete? Bodily also it was, for mennes bodies it †norisshed;

100

and yet, never-the-later, Crist it signifyed. Right so a jewel

betokeneth a gemme, and that is a stoon vertuous or els a perle.

Margarite, a woman, betokeneth grace, lerning, or wisdom of

god, or els holy church. If breed, thorow vertue, is mad holy

flesshe, what is that our god sayth? 'It is the spirit that yeveth

105

lyf; the flesshe, of nothing it profiteth.' Flesshe is flesshly

understandinge; flessh without grace and love naught is worth.

'The letter sleeth; the spirit yeveth lyfelich understanding.'

Charitè is love; and love is charitè.

God graunt us al[le] therin to be frended!

110

And thus The Testament of Love is ended.

Ch. IX. 1. nowe. toforne. 4. get. 7. destenye. thoughe. 9. sayde. god hadnest (!); read god hath destenees. 11. missaythe. ledde; read let = ledeth. 12. none. toforne. 14. I supply he. 15. leueth.

16. sayde. great. dothe. 17. negatyfe. 21. beforne (twice). 22. apertely maye. 23. nowe to-gyther. 24. nothynge. 25. howe. 26. togyther. reason. 27. leadeth. frewyl. 28. reasonablyche. 29. demyd. I supply thorow. frewyl. 32. folke. toforne know. 33. thorowe. fal. 34. wronge. 35. thorowe. 36-7. I supply oon and he. 39. thanke. 41. plentie. 42. ioy. dwel. 43. kyngdome. affecte. 44-6. greatest (twice). * A break here in Th. 47. folke. 48. swetter. 50. dothe. 51. smel.

52. Christ. the. 59. mans; read mannes (twice). 61. get. 62. put. 63. thre. 66. I supply of. 68. this; read thise. 69. medecyn. lechcraft. 70. mans. 72. I now; for y-now. 73. thorowe. hande. 80. great. desyre. 84. made. 86. wytte. -mother; read moder.

89. onely. booke. 90. correction. onely. 92. great. 94. released. 96. thorowe. 97. treatyse. Howe. 99. meate. norissheth; read norisshed. 100. Christ. 101. stone. 103. thorowe. made. 104. saythe. spyrite. 105. lyfe. 109. al; read allë.

Here beginneth the Plowmans Prologue.

The Plowman plucked up his plow,

Whan midsommer mone was comen in,

And sayd, 'his beestes shuld ete y-now,

And lig in the grasse, up to the chin;

They ben feble, both oxe and cow,

Of hem nis left but boon and skin.'

He shook of share, and cultre of-drow,

And hong his harneys on a pin.

He took his tabard and his staf eke,

And on his heed he set his hat;

And sayde, he wolde saynt Thomas seke,

On pilgrimage he goth forth plat.

In scrippe he bar both breed and lekes,

He was forswonke and all forswat;

Men might have seen through both his chekes,

And every wang-toth and where it sat.

Our hoste beheld wel all about,

And saw this man was sunne y-brent;

He knew well by his senged snout,

And by his clothes that were to-rent,

He was a man wont to walke about,

He nas nat alway in cloystre y-pent;

He coud not religiousliche lout,

And therfore was he fully shent.

[148]

Our host him axed, 'what man art thou?'

'Sir,' quod he, 'I am an hyne;

For I am wont to go to the plow,

And erne my mete yer that I dyne.

To swete and swinke I make avow,

My wyf and children therwith to fynd,

And servë god, and I wist how;

But we lewd men ben full[y] blynd.

For clerkes saye, we shullen be fayn

For hir lyvelod [to] swete and swinke,

And they right nought us give agayn,

Neyther to ete ne yet to drinke.

They mowe by lawë, as they sayn,

Us curse and dampne to hell[e] brinke;

Thus they putten us to payn,

With candles queynt and belles clinke.

They make us thralles at hir lust,

And sayn, we mowe nat els be saved;

They have the corn and we the dust,

Who speketh ther-agayn, they say he raved.'

'What, man,' quod our host, 'canst thou preche?

Come neer, and tell us some holy thing.'

'Sir,' quod he, 'I herde ones teche

A prest in pulpit a good preching.'

'Say on,' quod our host, 'I thee beseche.'

'Sir, I am redy at your bidding.

I pray you that no man me reproche

Whyl that I am my tale telling.

Thus endeth the prologue, and here foloweth the first

part of the tale.

[149]

PART I.

A sternë stryf is stered newe

In many stedes in a stounde,

Of sondry sedes that ben sewe;

It semeth that som ben unsounde.

For some be gretë growen †on grounde,

Some ben souple, simple and small;

Whether of hem is falser founde,

The falser, foul mote him befall!

That oon syde is, that I of tell,

Popes, cardinals, and prelates,

Parsons, monkes, and freres fell,

Priours, abbottes of grete estates;

Of heven and hell they kepe the yates,

And Peters successours they ben all;

This is demed by oldë dates;

But falshed, foul mote it befall!

The other syde ben poore and pale,

And people put [al] out of prees;

And semë caytifs sore a-cale,

And ever in oon without encrees,

†I-cleped lollers and londlees;

Who toteth on hem, they been untall.

They ben arayed all for the pees;

But falshed, foul mote it befall!

Many a countrey have I sought,

To know the falser of these two;

But ever my travail was for nought,

All so fer as I have go.

But as I wandred in a wro,

In a wode besyde a wall,

Two foules saw I sitte tho;

The falser, foul mote him befall!

[150]

That oon did plede on the Popes syde,

A Griffon of a grim stature.

A Pellicane withouten pryde

To these lollers layde his lure;

He mused his matter in mesure,

To counsayl Christ ever gan he call.

The Griffon shewed as sharp as fyre,

But falshed, foul mote it befall!

The Pellican began to preche

Both of mercy and of mekeness;

And sayd, that "Christ so gan us teche,

And meke and merciable gan bless.

The Evangely bereth witness

A lamb, he lykneth Christ over-all,

In tokening that he mekest was,

100

Sith pryde was out of heven fall.

And so shulde every Christned be;

Preestes, Peters successours,

Beth lowlich and of low degree,

And usen none erthly honours,

105

Neyther crown, ne curious cove[r]tours,

Ne †pelure, ne other proudë pall;

Ne nought to cofren up greet tresours;

For falshed, foul mote it befall!

Preest[e]s shuld for no cattel plede,

110

But chasten hem in charitè;

Ne to no batail shuld men lede

For inhaunsing of hir own degree;

Nat wilnë sittings in hy see,

Ne soverayntè in hous ne hall;

115

All worldly worship defye and flee;

For who willeth highnes, foul shal fall!

[151]

Alas! who may such sayntes call

That wilneth welde erthly honour?

As lowe as Lucifer such shal fall,

120

In baleful blacknesse y-builde hir bour;

That eggeth the people to errour,

And maketh hem to hem [be] thrall;

To Christ I hold suche oon traytour,

As lowe as Lucifer such shal fall.

125

That willeth to be kinges peres,

And hygher than the emperour;

Some that were but pore freres

Now wollen waxe a warryour.

God is nat hir governour,

130

That holdeth no man his †peragall;

Whyl covetyse is hir counsaylour,

All such falshed mot nedë fall.

That hye on horse willeth ryde

In glitterand golde of grete aray,

135

I-paynted and portred all in pryde;

No commun knight may go so gay.

Chaunge of clothing every day,

With golden girdles grete and small;

As boystous as is bere at bay;

140

All such falshed mot nedë fall.

With prydë †punysheth the pore,

And somë they sustayn with sale;

Of holy churche maketh an hore,

And filleth hir wombe with wyne and ale;

145

With money filleth many a male,

And chaffren churches when they fall,

And telleth the people a lewed tale;

Such falsë faytours, foul hem fall!

[152]

With chaunge of many maner metes,

150

With song and solace sitting long,

And filleth hir wombë, and fast fretes,

And from the metë to the gong;

And after mete with harp and song,

And ech man mot hem lordes call;

155

And hotë spyces ever among;

Such falsë faytours, foul hem fall!

And myters mo than oon or two,

I-perled as the quenes heed;

A staf of golde, and †perrey, lo!

160

As hevy as it were mad of leed;

With cloth of gold both newe and reed,

With glitterand †gown as grene as gall,

By dome will dampnë men to deed;

All suche faytours, foul hem fall!

165

And Christes people proudly curse

With brode bokes, and braying bell;

To putte pennyes in hir purse

They woll sell both heven and hell;

And in hir sentence, and thou wilt dwell,

170

They willen gesse in hir gay hall;

And though the soth thou of hem tell,

In greet cursinge shalt thou fall.

That is blessed, that they blesse,

And cursed, that they cursë woll;

175

And thus the people they oppresse,

And have their lordshippes at full;

And many be marchauntes of woll,

And to purse penyes woll come thrall;

The porë people they all to-pull,

180

Such falsë faytours, foul hem fall!

[153]

Lordes motë to hem loute,

Obeysaunt to hir brode blessing;

They ryden with hir royall route

On a courser, as it were a king;

185

With saddle of golde glitt[e]ring

With curious harneys quayntly crallit,

Styroppes gaye of gold-mastling;

All suche falshed, foul befall it!

Christes ministers †cleped they been,

190

And rulen all in robberye;

But Antichrist they serven clene,

Attyred all in tyrannye;

Witnesse of Johns prophecye,

That Antichrist is hir admirall,

195

Tiffelers attyred in trecherye;

All suche faytours, foul hem fall!

Who sayth, that some of hem may sinne,

He shal be †demed to be deed;

Some of hem woll gladly winne

200

All ayenst that which god forbed;

"All-holyest" they clepen hir heed,

That of hir rulë is regall;

Alas! that ever they eten breed;

For all such falshed woll foul fall.

205

Hir heed loveth all honour,

And to be worshipped in worde and dede;

Kinges mot to hem knele and coure;

To the apostles, that Christ forbede;

To popes hestes such taketh more hede

210

Than to kepe Christes commaundëment;

Of gold and silver mot ben hir wede,

They holdeth him hole omnipotent.

[154]

He ordayneth by his ordinaunce

To parish-preestes a powére;

215

To another a greter avaunce,

A greter poynt to his mystere;

But for he is hyghest in erth here,

To him reserveth he many a poynt;

But to Christ, that hath no pere,

220

Reserveth he neither opin ne joynt.

So semeth he above[n] all,

And Christ aboven him nothing;

Whan he sitteth in his stall,

Dampneth and saveth as him think.

225

Such pryde tofore god doth stink;

An angell bad John to him nat knele,

But only to god do his bowing;

Such willers of worship must evil fele.

They ne clepen Christ but sanctus deus,

230

And clepen her heed Sanctissimus;

They that such a sect[ë] sewis,

I trowe, they taken hem amisse.

In erth[ë] here they have hir blisse,

Hir hye master is Belial;

235

†Christ his people from hem wisse!

For all such falsë will foul fall!

They mowë both[ë] binde and lose,

And all is for hir holy lyf;

To save or dampne they mowë chose,

240

Betwene hem now [ther] is gret stryf.

Many a man is killed with knyf,

To wete which of hem have lordship shall;

For such, Christ suffred woundes fyve;

For all such falshed will foul fall.

[155]

245

Christ sayd: Qui gladio percutit

With swerdë shall [he surely] dye;

He bad his preestes pees and grith,

And bad hem not drede for to dye;

And bad them be both simple and slye,

250

And carkë not for no cattall,

And †truste on god that sitteth on hye;

For all [such] falsë shull foul fall.

These wollen makë men to swere

Ayenst Christes commaundëment;

255

And Christes membres all to-tere

On rode as he wer newe y-rent.

Suche lawes they make by commun assent,

Ech on it choweth as a ball;

Thus the pore be fully shent,

260

But ever falshed foule it †fall!

They usen [never] no symonye,

But sellen churches and prioryes;

Ne [yet] they usen no envye,

But cursen all hem contraryes;

265

And hyreth men by dayes and yeres

With strength to holde hem in hir stall;

And culleth all hir adversaryes;

Therefor, falshed! foul thou fall!

With purse they purchase personage,

270

With purse they paynen hem to plede;

And men of warrë they woll wage,

To bringe hir enemyes to the dede.

And lordes lyves they woll lede,

And moche take, and give but small;

275

But he it so get, from it shall shede,

And make such falsë right foul fal!

[156]

They halowe nothing but for hyre,

Churchë, font, ne vestëment;

And make[n] orders in every shyre,

280

But preestes paye for the parchement;

Of ryatours they taken rent,

Therwith they smere the shepes skall;

For many churches ben oft suspent;

All such falshed, yet foul it fall!

285

Some liveth nat in lecherye,

But haunten wenches, widdowes, and wyves,

And punisheth the pore for putrye;

Them-selfe it useth all their lyves.

And but a man to them [him] shryves,

290

To heven comë never he shall;

He shal be cursed as be captyves,

To hell they sayn that he shall fall.

There was more mercy in Maximien,

And in Nero, that never was good,

295

Than [there] is now in some of †hem

Whan he hath on his furred hood.

They folowe Christ that shedde his blood

To heven, as bucket in-to the wall;

Suche wreches ben worse than wood;

300

And all such faytours, foule hem fall!

They give hir almesse to the riche,

To maynteynours, and to men of lawe;

For to lordes they woll be liche,

An harlottes sone nat worth an hawe!

305

Sothfastnessë suche han slawe,

They kembe hir crokets with cristall;

And drede of god they have down drawe;

All suche faytours, foul hem fall!

[157]

They maken parsons for the penny,

310

And canons of hir cardinals;

Unnethes amongest hem all any

That he ne hath glosed the gospell fals!

For Christ made never no cathedrals,

Ne with him was no cardinall

315

Wyth a reed hatte as usen mynstrals;

But falshed, foul mote it befall!

†Hir tything, and hir offring both,

They cle[y]meth it by possessio[u]n;

Thérof nill they none forgo,

320

But robben men as [by] raunsoun.

The tything of Turpe lucrum

With these maisters is meynall;

Tything of bribry and larson

Will makë falshed full foul fall!

325

They taken to fermë hir sompnours

To harme the people what they may;

To pardoners and false faytours

Sell hir seles, I dar well say;

And all to holden greet array,

330

To multiply hem more metall,

They drede full litell domes day

Whan all such [falsë] shall foul fall.

Suche harlottes shull men disclaunder

For they shullen make hir gree,

335

And ben as proude as Alexaunder,

And sayn to the pore, "wo be ye!"

By yere ech preest shall paye his fee

To encrese his lemmans call;

Suche herdes shull well yvell thee,

340

And all such falsë shull foul fall!

[158]

And if a man be falsly famed,

And woldë make purgacioun,

Than woll the officers be agramed,

And assigne him fro town to town;

345

So nede he must[e] paye raunsoun

Though he be clene as is cristall,

And than have an absolutioun;

But all such falsë shull foul fall!

Though he be gilty of the dede,

350

And that he [yet] may money pay,

All the whyle his purse woll blede

He may use it fro day to day!

These bishoppes officers goon full gay,

And this game they usen over-all;

355

The pore to pill is all †hir pray;

All such falsë shull foul fall!

Alas! god ordayned never such lawe,

Ne no such craft of covetyse;

He forbad it, by his sawe,

360

Such governours mowen of god agryse;

For all his rules †ben rightwyse.

These newe poyntes ben pure papall,

And goddes lawë they dispyse;

And all such faytours shul foul fall!

365

They sayn that Peter had the key

Of hevin and hell, to have and hold;

I trowe Peter took no money

For no sinnes that he sold!

Such successours ben to bold,

370

In winning all their wit they wrall;

Hir conscience is waxen cold;

And all such faytours, foule hem fall!

[159]

Peter was never so great a fole

To leve his key with such a lorell,

375

Or to take such cursed such a tole

He was advysed nothing well.

I trowe, they have the key of hell;

†Hir maister is of that place marshall;

For there they dressen hem to dwell,

380

And with fals Lucifer there to fall.

They ben as proude as Lucifer,

As angry, and as envious;

From good fayth they ben full fer,

In covetyse they ben curious;

385

To catche catell as covytous

As hound, that for hunger woll yall;

Ungoodly, and ungracious;

And nedely, such falshed shal foul fall!

The pope, and he were Peters heyr,

390

Me think, he erreth in this cas,

Whan choyse of bishoppes is in dispeyr,

To chosen hem in dyvers place;

A lord shall write to him for grace,

For his clerke †pray anon he shall;

395

So shall he spede[n] his purchas;

And all such falsë, foule hem fall!

Though he †conne no more good,

A lordes prayer shal be sped;

Though he be wild of will or wood,

400

Nat understanding what men han red,

A boster, and (that god forbede!)

As good a bishop †as my hors Ball,

Suche a pope is foule be-sted,

And at [the] lastë woll foul fall!

[160]

405

He maketh bishops for erthly thank,

And nothing for Christes sake;

Such that ben ful fatte and rank,

To soulë hele non hede they take.

Al is well don what ever they make,

410

For they shal answere at †ones for all;

For worldes thank, such worch and wake,

And all such falsë shall foul fall!

Suche that †connë nat hir Crede

With prayer shull be mad prelates;

415

Nother †conne the gospell rede,

Such shull now welde hye estates.

The hye goodes frendship hem makes,

They toteth on hir somme totall;

Such bere the keyes of hell-yates,

420

And all such falsë shall foul fall.

They forsake, for Christes love,

Traveyl, hunger, thurst, and cold;

For they ben ordred ever all above

Out of youthe til they ben old.

425

By the dore they go nat in-to the fold,

To helpe †hir sheep they nought travall;

Hyred men all suche I holde,

And all such falsë, foule hem fall!

For Christ hir king they woll forsake,

430

And knowe him nought for his povert;

For Christes lovë they woll wake,

And drink pyment [and] ale apart.

Of god they seme nothing a-ferd;

As lusty liveth, as Lamuall,

435

And dryve hir sheep into desert;

All such faytours shull foul fall!

[161]

Christ hath twelve apostels here;

Now say they, ther may be but oon,

That may nat erre in no manere;

440

Who leveth nat this, ben lost echoon!

Peter erred, so dide nat John;

Why is he cleped the principall?

Christ cleped him Peter, but himself the stoon;

All falsë faytours, foule hem fall!

445

Why cursen they the croysery,

Christes Christen crëatures?

For bytwene hem is now envy

To be enhaunsed in honours.

And Christen livers, with hir labours,

450

For they leve on no man mortall,

†Ben do to dethe with dishonours;

And all such falsë, foule hem fall!

What knoweth a tillour at the plow

The popes name, and what he hat?

455

His crede suffyseth him y-now,

And knoweth a cardinall by his hat.

Rough is the pore, unrightly lat,

That knoweth Christ his god royall;

Such maters be nat worth a gnat;

460

But such false faytours, foule hem fall!

A king shall knele and kisse his sho;

Christ suffred a sinfull kisse his feet.

Me thinketh, he holdeth him hye y-now,

So Lucifer did, that hye †seet.

465

Such oon, me thinketh, him-self foryet,

Either to the trouth he was nat call;

Christ, that suffred woundes wet,

Shall makë such falshed foul fall!

[162]

They layeth out hir largë nettes

470

For to take silver and gold,

Fillen coffers, and sackes fettes,

There-as they soules cacche shold.

Hir servaunts be to †hem unhold,

But they can doublin †hir rentall

475

To bigge hem castels, and bigge hem hold;

And all such falsë, foule hem fall!

Here endeth the first part of this tale, and herafter

foloweth the seconde part.

PART II.

To accorde with this wordë "fal"

No more English can I find;

Shewe another now I shall,

480

For I have moche to say behind,

How preestes han the people pynd,

As curteys Christ hath me [y-]kend,

And put this matter in my mind

To make this maner men amend.

485

Shortly to shende hem, and shewe now

How wrongfully they worche and walke;

O hye god, nothing they tell, ne how,

But in goddes word, †tell many a balke.

In hernes holde hem and in halke,

490

And prechin of tythes and offrend,

And untruely of the gospell talke;

For his mercy, god it amend!

[163]

What is Antichrist to say

But evin Christes adversáry?

495

Such hath now ben many a day

To Christes bidding full contráry,

That from the trouthë clenë vary;

Out of the wayë they ben wend;

And Christes people untruely cary;

500

God, for his pitè, it amend!

That liven contráry to Christes lyf,

In hye pride agaynst mekenesse;

Agaynst suffraunce they usen stryf,

And angre ayenst sobrenesse;

505

Agaynst wisdom, wilfulnesse;

To Christes tales litell tend;

Agaynst mesúre, outragiousnesse;

But whan god woll, it may amend!

Lordly lyf ayenst lowlinesse,

510

And demin all without mercy;

And covetyse ayenst largesse,

Agaynst trewth[e], trechery;

And agaynst almesse, envy;

Agaynst Christ they comprehend.

515

For chastitè, they maynteyn lechery;

God, for his gracë, this amend!

Ayenst penaunce they use delytes,

Ayenst suffraunce, strong defence;

Ayenst god they use yvel rightes,

520

Agaynst pitè, punishments;

Open yvell ayenst continence;

Hir wicked winning wors dispend;

Sobrenesse they sette in-to dispence;

But god, for his goodnesse, it amend!

[164]

525

Why cleymen they hoolly his powére,

And wranglen ayenst all his hestes?

His living folowen they nothing here,

But liven wors than witles beestes.

Of fish and flesh they loven feestes,

530

As lordes, they ben brode y-kend;

Of goddes pore they haten gestes;

God, for his mercy, this amend!

With †Dives such shall have hir doom

That sayn that they be Christes frendes,

535

And do nothing as they shuld doon;

All such ben falser than ben fendes.

On the people they ley such bendes,

As god is in erthe, they han offend;

Sucour for suchë Christ now sende us.

540

And, for his mercy, this amend!

A token of Antichrist they be,

His careckes ben now wyde y-know;

Receyved to preche shall no man be

Without[ë] token of him, I trow.

545

Ech Christen preest to prechen ow,

From god abovë they ben send.

Goddes word to all folk for to show,

Sinfull man for to amend.

Christ sente the pore for to preche;

550

The royall riche he did nat so;

Now dar no pore the people teche,

For Antichrist is over-all hir fo.

Among the people he mot go;

He hath bidden, all such suspend;

555

Some hath he hent, and thinketh yet mo;

But all this god may well amend.

[165]

All tho that han the world forsake,

And liven lo[w]ly, as god bad,

In-to hir prison shullen be take,

560

Betin and bounden, and forth lad.

Herof I rede no man be drad;

Christ sayd, his [servaunts] shulde be shend;

Ech man ought herof be glad;

For god ful well it woll amend.

565

They take on hem royáll powére,

And saye, they havë swerdes two,

Oon curse to hell, oon slee men here;

For at his taking Christ had no mo,

Yet Peter had [that] oon of tho.

570

But Christ to Peter smyte gan defend,

And in-to the sheth bad putte it tho;

And all such mischeves god amend!

Christ bad Peter kepe his sheep,

And with his swerde forbad him smyte;

575

Swerd is no tole with sheep to kepe

But to shep[h]erdes that sheep woll byte.

Me thinketh, suche shep[h]erdes ben to wyte

Ayen hir sheep with swerd that contend;

They dryve hir sheep with greet dispyte;

580

But al this god may well amend.

So successours to Peter be they nought

Whom [that] Christ madë cheef pastour;

A swerd no shep[h]erde usen ought

But he wold slee as a bochour.

585

For who-so were Peters successour

Shuld bere his sheep till his bak bend,

And shadowe hem from every shour;

And all this god may wel amend.

[166]

Successours to Peter ben these

590

In that that Peter Christ forsook,

That had lever the love of god [to] lese

Than a shep[h]erde had to lese his hook.

He culleth the sheep as doth the cook;

Of hem [they] taken the woll untrend,

595

And falsely glose the gospell-book;

God, for his mercy, †hem amend!

After Christ had take Peter the kay,

Christ sayd, he mustë dye for man;

That Peter to Christ gan withsay;

600

Christ bad him, 'go behind, Sathan!'

Such counsaylours many of these men han

For worldes wele, god to offend;

Peters successours they ben for-than,

But all such god may well amend.

605

For Sathan is to say no more

But he that contrary to Christ is;

In this they lernë Peters lore,

They sewen him whan he did mis;

They folowe Peter forsothe in this,

610

In al that Christ wolde †him reprende,

Nat in that that longeth to hevin blis;

God for his mercy hem amend!

Some of the apostels they sewen in cas,

Of ought that I can understonde,

615

Him that betrayed Christ, Judas,

That bar the purse in every londe;

And al that he might sette on honde,

He hidde and stal, and [gan] mispend;

His rule these traytours han in honde;

620

Almighty god [now] hem amend!

[167]

And at last his lord gan tray

Cursedly, through his covetyse;

So wolde these trayen him for money,

And they wisten in what wyse!

625

They be seker of the selfe ensyse;

From all sothnesse they ben frend;

And covetyse chaungen with queyntyse;

Almighty god all suche amend!

Were Christ on erthë here eft-soon,

630

These wolde dampnë him to dye;

All his hestes they han fordon,

And sayn, his sawes ben heresy;

Ayenst his †maundëments they cry,

And dampne all his to be [y-]brend;

635

For it lyketh nat hem, such losengery;

God almighty hem amend!

These han more might in England here

Than hath the king and all his lawe,

They han purchased hem such powére

640

To taken hem whom [they] list nat knawe;

And say, that heresy is hir sawe,

And so to prison woll hem send;

It was nat so by elder dawe,

God, for his mercy, it amend!

645

The kinges lawe wol no man deme

Angerliche, withouten answere;

But, if any man these misqueme,

He shal be baited as a bere;

And yet wel wors they woll him tere,

650

And in prisón woll hem [be] pend

In gyves, and in other gere;

Whan god woll, it may [a]mend.

[168]

The king taxeth nat his men

But by assent of the comminaltè;

655

But these, ech yere, woll raunsom hem

Maysterfully, more than doth he;

Hir seles, by yerë, better be

Than is the kinges in extend;

Hir officers han gretter fee;

660

But this mischeef [may] god amend!

For who-so woll prove a testament

Thát is natt all worth ten pound,

He shall paye for the parchëment

The third part of the money all round.

665

Thus the people is raunsound,

They say, such part to hem shulde apend;

There as they grypen, it goth to ground;

God, for his mercy, it amend!

A simple fornicacioun,

670

Twenty shillings he shall pay;

And than have an absolucioun,

And al the yere usen it forth he may!

Thus they letten hem go a-stray,

They recke nat though the soul be brend;

675

These kepin yvell Peters key,

And all such shep[h]erdes god amend!

Wonder is, that the parliament

And all the lordes of this lond

Here-to taken so litell entent

680

To helpe the people out of hir hond;

For they ben harder in †hir bond,

Wors bete[n] and [more] bitter brend

Than to the king is understond;

God him helpe this to amend!

[169]

685

What bisshoppes, what religio[u]ns

Han in this lande as moch lay-fee,

Lordshippes, and possessio[u]ns

More than the lordes, it semeth me!

That maketh hem lese charitè,

690

They mowë nat to god attend;

In erthe they have so high degree,

God, for his mercy, it amend!

The emperour yaf the pope somtyme

So hyghe lordship him about,

695

That, at [the] laste, the sely kyme,

The proudë popë putte him out!

So of this realme is in dout,

But lordes be ware and †hem defend;

For now these folk be wonder stout,

700

The king and lordes now this amend!

Thus endeth the seconde part of this tale, and herafter

foloweth the thirde.

PART III.

Moyses lawe forbood it tho,

That preestes shuld no lordshippes welde,

Christes gospel biddeth also

Thát they shuld no lordship helde;

705

Ne Christes apostels were never so bold

No such lordshippes to †hem enbrace;

But smeren hir sheep and kepe hir fold;

God amende hem for his grace!

[170]

For they ne ben but countrefet,

710

Men may knowe hem by hir fruit;

Hir gretnesse maketh hem god foryet,

And take his mekenesse in dispyt.

And they were pore and had but lyte,

They nolde nat demen after the face,

715

But norishe hir sheep, and hem nat byte;

God amende hem for his grace!"

Grifon. "What canst thou preche ayenst chanons

Thát men clepen seculere?"

Pelican. "They ben curates of many towns,

720

On erthë they have greet powére.

They han greet prebendes and dere,

Some two or three, and some [han] mo,

A personage to ben a playing-fere,

And yet they serve the king also;

725

And let to fermë all that fare

To whom that woll most give therfore;

Some woll spende, and some woll spare,

And some woll laye it up in store.

A cure of soule[s] they care nat for,

730

Só they mowë money take;

Whether hir soules be wonne or lore,

Hir profits they woll nat forsake.

They have a gedering procuratour

That can the pore people enplede,

735

And robben hem as a ravinour,

And to his lord the money lede;

And cacche of quicke and eke of dede,

And richen him and his lord eke,

And to robbe the pore can give good rede

740

Of olde and yonge, of hole and seke.

[171]

Therwith they purchase hem lay-fee

In londë, there hem lyketh best,

And builde †als brode as a citè

Both in the est, and eke in the west.

745

To purchase thus they ben ful prest,

But on the pore they woll nought spend,

Ne no good give to goddes gest,

Ne sende him some that all hath send.

By hir service such woll live,

750

And trusse that other in-to tresour;

Though all hir parish dye unshrive,

They woll nat give a rosë-flour.

Hir lyf shuld be as a mirrour

Bothe to lered and to leude also,

755

And teche the people hir leel labour;

Such mister men ben all misgo.

Some of hem ben hardë nigges,

And some of hem ben proude and gay;

Some spende hir good upon [hir] gigges,

760

And finden hem of greet aray.

Alas! what think these men to say

That thus dispenden goddis good?

At the dredfull domes day

Such wrecches shul be worse than wood.

765

Some hir churc[h]es never ne sye,

Ne never o peny thider ne sende;

Though the pore parishens for hunger dye,

O peny on hem wil they nat spende.

Have they receivinge of the rent,

770

They reck never of the remënant;

Alas! the devill hath clene hem blent!

Suche oon is Sathanas sojournant.

[172]

And usen horedom and harlotry,

Covetysë, pompe, and pride,

775

Slouthë, wrathe, and eke envy,

And sewen sinne by every syde.

Alas! where thinkë such t'abyde?

How woll they accomptes yeld?

From hy god they mow hem nat hyde,

780

Such willers wit is nat worth a neld.

They ben so roted in richesse,

That Christes povert is foryete,

Served with so many messe,

Hem thinketh that manna is no mete.

785

All is good that they mow get,

They wenë to live evermore;

But, whan god at dome is set,

Such tresour is a feble store.

Unneth mot they matins say,

790

For counting and for court-holding;

And yet he jangleth as a jay,

And understont him-self nothing.

He woll serve bothe erl and king

For his fynding and his fee,

795

And hyde his tything and his offring;

This is a feble charitè.

Other they ben proude, or coveytous,

Or they ben harde, or [els] hungry,

Or they ben liberall or lecherous,

800

Or els medlers with marchandry;

Or maynteyners of men with maistry,

Or stewardes, countours, or pledours,

And serve god in hypocrisy;

Such preestes ben Christes fals traytours!

[173]

805

They ben false, they ben vengeable,

And begylen men in Christes name;

They ben unstedfast and unstable;

To tray hir lord, hem thinketh no shame.

To servë god they ben full lame,

810

Goddes theves, and falsly stele;

And falsly goddes word defame;

In winning is hir worldes wele.

Antichrist these serven all;

I pray thee, who may say [me] nay?

815

With Antichrist such [folk] shull fall,

They folowen him in dede and fay;

They servin him in riche array,

To servë Christ such falsly fayn;

Why, at the dredful domes day,

820

Shull they not folowe him to payn?

That knowen hem-self, that they don ill

Ayenst Christes commaundëment,

And amende hem never ne will,

But serve Sathan by one assent.

825

Who sayth [the] sothe, he shal be shent,

Or speketh ayenst hir fals living;

Who-so well liveth shal be brent,

For such ben gretter than the king!

Pope, bishoppes, and cardinals,

830

Chanons, persons, and vicaire,

In goddes service, I trow, ben fals,

That sacramentës sellen here.

And ben as proude as Lucifere;

Ech man loke whether that I ly!

835

Who-so speketh ayenst hir powére,

It shall be holden heresy.

[174]

Loke how many orders take

Only of Christ, for his servyce,

That the worldes goodes forsake?

840

Who-so taketh orders †on other wyse,

I trow, that they shall sore agryse!

For all the glose that they conne,

All sewen not this [same] assyse;

In yvell tyme they thus bigonne.

845

Loke how many among hem all

Holden not this hyë way!

With Antichrist they shullen fall,

For they wolden god betray.

God amende hem, that best may!

850

For many men they maken shende;

They weten well, the sothe I say,

Bút the divell hath foule hem blend.

Some [up]on hir churches dwell,

Apparailled porely, proude of port;

855

The seven sacraments they don sell,

In cattel-cacching is hir comfort.

Of ech mattér they wollen mell,

And don hem wrong is hir disport;

To afray the people they ben fell,

860

And holde hem lower then doth the lord.

For the tythinge of a ducke,

Or of an apple, or an ay,

They make men swere upon a boke;

Thus they foulen Christes fay.

865

Such beren yvell heven-kay,

They mowen assoyl, they mowë shryve;

With mennes wyves strongly play,

With trewë tillers sturte and stryve

[175]

At the wrestling, and at the wake;

870

And chefe chauntours at the nale;

Market-beters, and medling make,

Hoppen and houten with heve and hale.

At fayrë freshe, and at wynë stale,

Dyne and drinke, and make debat;

875

The seven sacraments set at sale;

How kepe such the kayes of heven-gat?

Mennes wyves they wollen holde;

And though that they ben right sory,

To speke they shull not be so bolde

880

For sompning to the consistory;

And make hem say [with] mouth "I ly,"

Though they it sawë with hir y;

His lemman holden openly,

No man so hardy to axë why!

885

He wol have tythinge and offringe,

Maugrè who-so-ever it gruche;

And twyës on the day woll singe;

Goddes prestes nere none suche!

He mot on hunting with dogge and bic[c]he,

890

And blowen his horn, and cryën "hey!"

And sorcery usen as a wicche;

Such kepen yvell Peters key.

Yet they mot have som stocke or stoon

Gayly paynted, and proudly dight,

895

To maken men [to] †leven upon,

And say, that it is full of might;

About such, men sette up greet light,

Other such stockes shull stand therby

As darkë as it were midnight,

900

For it may make no ma[i]stry.

[176]

That lewed people see it mow,

Thou, Mary, worchest wonder thinges;

About that, that men offren to now,

Hongen broches, ouches, and ringes;

905

The preest purchaseth the offringes,

But he nill offre to none image;

Wo is the soule that he for singes,

That precheth for suche a pilgrimage!

To men and women that ben pore,

910

That ben [in] Christes own lykenesse,

Men shullen offre at hir dore

That suffren honger and distresse;

And to suche imáges offre lesse,

That mow not felë thurst ne cold;

915

The pore in spirit gan Christ blesse,

Therfore offreth to feble and old.

Buckelers brode, and swerdes longe,

†Baudriks, with baselardes kene,

Such toles about hir necke they honge;

920

With Antichrist such preestes been;

Upon hir dedes it is well sene

Whom they serven, whom they hono[u]ren;

Antichristes they ben clene,

And goddes goodes fa[l]sly deuouren.

925

Of scarlet and grene gay[ë] gownes,

That mot be shapë for the newe,

To clippen and kissen counten in townes

The damoseles that to the daunce sewe;

Cutted clothes to sewe hir hewe,

930

With longë pykes on hir shoon;

Our goddes gospell is not trewe,

Eyther they serven the divell or noon!

[177]

Now ben prestes pokes so wyde,

Men must enlarge the vestëment;

935

The holy gospell they don hyde,

For they contrarien in rayment.

Such preestes of Lucifer ben sent,

Lyk conquerours they ben arayd,

Proude pendaunts at hir ars y-pent,

940

Falsly the truthe they han betrayd.

Shryft-silver suchë wollen aske is,

And woll men crepë to the crouche;

None of the sacraments, save askes,

Without[ë] mede shall no man touche.

945

On hir bishop their warant vouche,

That is lawe of the decrè;

With mede and money thus they mouche,

And †this, they sayn, is charitè!

In the middes of hir masse

950

They nill have no man but for hyre,

And, full shortly, let forth passe;

Such shull men finde[n] in ech shyre

That personages for profite desyre,

To live in lykinge and in lustes;

955

I dar not sayn, sans ose ieo dyre,

That such ben Antichristes preestes.

Or they yef the bishops why,

Or they mot ben in his servyce,

And holden forth hir harlotry;

960

Such prelats ben of feble empryse.

Of goddes grame such men agryse,

For such mattérs that taken mede;

How they excuse hem, and in what wyse,

Me thinketh, they ought greetly drede.

[178]

965

They sayn, that it to no man longeth

To reprove †hem, though they erre;

But falsely goddes good they fongeth,

And therwith maynteyn wo and werre.

Hir dedes shuld be as bright as sterre,

970

Hir living, lewed mannes light;

They say, the popë may not erre,

Nede must that passë mannes might.

Though a prest ly with his lemman al night,

And tellen his felowe, and he him,

975

He goth to massë anon-right,

And sayeth, he singeth out of sinne!

His bryde abydeth him at his inne,

And dighteth his dyner the mene whyle;

He singeth his masse for he wolde winne,

980

And so he weneth god begyle!

Hem thinketh long till they be met;

And that they usen forth all the yere;

Among the folk when he is set,

He holdeth no man half his pere;

985

Of the bishop he hath powére

To soyle men, or els they ben lore;

His absolucion may make †hem skere;

And wo is the soul that he singeth for!"

The Griffon began for to threte,

990

And sayd, "of monkes canst thou ought?"

The Pellican sayd, "they ben full grete,

And in this world moch wo hath wrought.

Saynt Benet, that hir order brought,

Ne made hem never on such manere;

995

I trowe, it cam never in his thought

That they shulde use so greet powér[e];

[179]

That a man shulde a monk lord cal,

Ne serve on kneës, as a king.

He is as proud as prince in pall

1000

In mete, and drink, and [in] all thing;

Some weren myter and ring,

With double worsted well y-dight,

With royall mete and riche drink,

And rydeth on courser as a knight.

1005

With hauke[s] and with houndes eke,

With broches or ouches on his hode,

Some say no masse in all a weke,

Of deyntees is hir moste fode.

With lordshippes and with bondmen

1010

This is a royall religioun;

Saynt Benet made never none of hem

To have lordship of man ne town.

Now they ben queynte and curious,

With fyn cloth cladde, and served clene,

1015

Proude, angry, and envyous,

Malyce is mochë that they mene.

In cacching crafty and covetous,

Lordly liven in greet lyking;

This living is not religious

1020

According to Benet in his living.

They ben clerkes, hir courtes they oversee,

Hir pore tenaunts fully they flyte;

The hyer that a man amerced be,

The gladlyer they woll it wryte.

1025

This is fer from Christes povertè,

For all with covetyse they endyte;

On the pore they have no pitè,

Ne never hem cherish, but ever hem byte.

[180]

And comunly suche ben comen

1030

Of pore people, and of hem begete,

That this perfeccion han y-nomen;

Hir †faders ryde not but on hir fete,

And travaylen sore for that they ete,

In povert liveth, yonge and old;

1035

Hir †faders suffreth drought and wete,

Many hongry meles, thurst, and cold.

All this the monkes han forsake

For Christes love and saynt Benet;

To pryde and esë have hem take;

1040

This religio[u]n is yvell beset.

Had they ben out of religioun,

They must have honged at the plow,

Threshing and dyking fro town to town

With sory mete, and not half y-now.

1045

Therfore they han this all forsake,

And taken to riches, pryde, and ese;

Full fewe for god woll monkes hem make,

Litell is suche order for to prayse!

Saynt Benet ordayned it not so,

1050

But bad hem be [ful] cherelich;

In churlich maner live and go,

Boystous in erth, and not lordlych.

They disclaunder saynt Benet,

Therfore they have his holy curse;

1055

Saynt Benet with hem never met

But-if they thought to robbe his purse!

I can no more herof [now] tell,

But they ben lykë tho before,

And clenë serve the divell of hell,

1060

And ben his tresour and his store.

[181]

And all suche other counterfaytours,

Chanons, canons, and such disgysed,

Ben goddes enemies and traytours,

His true religion han foul dispysed.

1065

Of freres I have told before

In a making of a 'Crede,'

And yet I coud tell worse and more,

But men wold werien it to rede!

As goddes goodnes no man tell might,

1070

Wryte ne speke, ne think in thought,

So, hir falshed and hir unright

May no man tell, that ever god wrought."

The Gryffon sayd, "thou canst no good,

Thou cam never of no gentill kind;

1075

Other, I trow, thou waxest wood,

Or els thou hast [y-]lost thy mynd.

Shuld holy churchë have no heed?

Who shuld be her governayl?

Who shuld her rule, who shuld her reed,

1080

Who shuld her forthren, who shuld avayl?

Ech man shall live by his travayl;

Who best doth, shall have moste mede;

With strength if men the churche assayl,

With strength men must defende her nede.

1085

And the pope were purely pore,

Nedy, and nothing ne had,

He shuld be driven from dore to dore;

The wicked of him nold not be drad.

Of such an heed men wold be sad,

1090

And sinfully liven as hem †list;

With strength, amendes †shuld be made,

With wepen, wolves from sheep be †wist.

[182]

If the pope and prelats wold

So begge and bidde, bowe, and borowe,

1095

Holy churche shuld stand full cold,

Hir servaunts sitte and soupë sorowe!

And they were noughty, foule, and horowe,

To worship god men woldë wlate;

Bothe on even and on morowe

1100

Such harlotry men woldë hate.

Therfore men of holy churche

Shuld ben honest in all thing,

Worshipfully goddes workes werche,

So semeth it, to serve Christ hir king

1105

In honest and in clene clothing;

With vessels of golde and clothes riche,

To god honestly to make offring;

To his lordship non is liche."

The Pellican caste an houge cry,

1110

And sayd, "alas! why sayest thou so?

Christ is our heed that sitteth on hy,

Heddes ne ought we have no mo.

We ben his membres both also,

And †fader he taught us to cal him als;

1115

Maysters be called defended he tho;

All other maysters ben wicked and fals,

That taketh maystry in his name,

Gostly, and for erthly good;

Kinges and lordes shuld lordship han,

1120

And rule the people with myldë mode.

Christ, for us that shedde his blood,

Bad his preestes no maystership have,

Ne carkë nat for cloth ne fode;

From every mischef he will hem save.

[183]

1125

Hir riche clothing shal be rightwysnesse,

Hir tresour, trewë lyf shal be;

Charitè shal be hir richesse,

Hir lordship shal be unitè;

Hope in god, hir honestè;

1130

Hir vessell, clenë conscience;

Pore in spirit, and humilitè,

Shal be holy churches defence."

"What," sayd the Griffon, "may thee greve

That other folkes faren wele?

1135

What hast thou to donë with hir †leve?

Thy falsheed ech man may fele.

For thou canst no catell gete,

But livest in londe, as a lorell,

With glosing gettest thou thy mete;

1140

So fareth the devell that wonneth in hell.

He wold that ech man ther shuld dwell,

For he liveth in clene envy;

So with the tales that thou doest tell

Thou woldest other people distry,

1145

With your glose, and your heresy,

For ye can live no better lyf,

But clenë in hypocrisy,

And bringest thee in wo and stryf.

And therwith have [ye] not to done,

1150

For ye ne have[n] here no cure;

Ye serve the divell, †not god ne man,

And he shall payë you your hyre.

For ye woll farë well at feestes,

And warm [be] clothed for the colde,

1155

Therfore ye glose goddes hestes,

And begyle the people, yonge and olde.

[184]

And all the seven sacraments

Ye speke ayenst, as ye were sly,

Ayenst tythings with your entents,

1160

And on our lordes body falsly ly.

All this ye don to live in ese,

As who sayeth, ther ben non suche;

And sayn, the pope is not worth a pese,

To make the people ayen him gruche.

1165

And this commeth in by fendes,

To bringe the Christen in distaunce;

For they wold that no man were frendes;

Leve thy chattring, with mischaunce!

If thou live well, what wilt thou more?

1170

Let other men live as hem list;

Spende in good, or kepe in store;

Other mennes conscience never thou nist.

Ye han no cure to answere for;

What meddell ye, that han not to don?

1175

Let men live as they han don yore,

For thou shalt answere for no †mon."

The Pellican sayd, "Sir, nay, [nay],

I dispysed not the pope,

Ne no sacrament, soth to say;

1180

But speke in charitè and good hope.

But I dispyse hir hyë pryde,

Hir richesse, that shuld be pore in spryt;

Hir wickednesse is knowe so wyde,

They servë god in fals habyt;

1185

And turnen mekenesse into pryde,

And lowlinesse into hy degrè,

And goddes wordes turne and hyde;

And that am I moved by charitè

[185]

To lettë men to livë so

1190

With all my conning and al my might,

And to warne men of hir wo

And to tell hem trouth and right.

The sacraments be soulë-hele

If they ben used in good use;

1195

Ayenst that speke I never a del,

For then were I nothing wyse.

But they that use hem in mis manére,

Or sette hem up to any sale,

I trow, they shall abye hem dere;

1200

This is my reson, this is my tale.

Who-so taketh hem unrightfulliche

Ayenst the ten commaundëments,

Or by glosë wrechedliche

Selleth any of the sacraments,

1205

I trow, they do the devell homage

In that they weten they do wrong;

And therto, I dar well wage,

They serven Satan for al her song.

To tythen and offren is hoolsom lyf,

1210

So it be don in dew manére;

A man to houselin and to shryve,

Wedding, and all the other in-fere,

So it be nother sold ne bought,

Ne take ne give for covetyse;

1215

And it be so taken, it is nought;

Who selleth hem so, may sore agryse.

On our Lordes body I do not ly,

I say soth, thorow trewë rede,

His flesh and blood, through his mystry,

1220

Is there, in the forme of brede.

[186]

How it is there, it nedeth not stryve,

Whether it be subget or accident,

But as Christ was, when he was on-lyve,

So is he there, verament.

1225

If pope or cardinall live good lyve,

As Christ commaunded in his gospell,

†Ayenës that woll I not stryve;

But, me thinketh, they live not well.

For if the pope lived as god bede,

1230

Pryde and hyghnesse he shuld dispyse,

Richesse, covetyse, and crowne on hede,

Mekenesse and povert he shulde use."

The Gryffon sayd, he shulde abye—

"Thou shal[t] be brent in balefull fyre;

1235

And all thy secte I shall distrye,

Ye shal be hanged by the swyre!

Ye shullen be hanged and to-drawe.

Who giveth you levë for to preche,

Or speke †agaynës goddes lawe,

1240

And the people thus falsly teche?

Thou shalt be cursed with boke and bell,

And dissevered from holy churche,

And clene y-dampned into hell,

Otherwyse but ye woll worche!"

1245

The Pellican sayd, "that I ne drede;

Your cursinge is of litell value;

Of god I hope to have my mede,

For it is falshed that ye shewe.

For ye ben out of charitè

1250

And wilneth vengeaunce, as did Nero;

To suffren I woll redy be;

I drede not that thou canst do.

[187]

Christ bad ones suffre for his love,

And so he taught all his servaunts;

1255

And but thou amend for his sake above,

I drede not all thy mayntenaunce.

For if I drede the worldes hate,

Me thinketh, I were litell to prayse;

I drede nothing your hye estat,

1260

Ne I drede not your disese.

Wolde ye turne and leve your pryde,

Your hyë port, and your richesse,

Your cursing shuld not go so wyde;

God bring you into rightwysnesse!

1265

For I drede not your tyranny,

For nothing that ye can doon;

To suffre I am all redy,

Siker, I recke never how soon!"

The Griffon grinned as he were wood,

1270

And loked lovely as an owle!

And swor, by cockes hertë blood,

He wolde him terë, every doule!

"Holy churche thou disclaundrest foule!

For thy resons I woll thee all to-race;

1275

And make thy flesh to rote and moule;

Losell, thou shalt have hardë grace!"

The Griffon flew forth on his way;

The Pellican did sitte and weep;

And to him-selfë he gan say,

1280

"God wolde that any of Christes sheep

Had herd, and y-takë kepe

Eche a word that here sayd was,

And wolde it wryte and well it kepe!

God wolde it were all, for his grace!"

[188]

1285

Plowman. I answerde, and sayd I wolde,

If for my travayl any wold pay.

Pelican. He sayd, "yes; these that god han sold;

For they han [greet] store of money!"

Plowman. I sayd, "tell me, and thou may,

1290

Why tellest thou mennës trespace?"

Pelican. He said, "to amende hem, in good fay,

If god woll give me any grace.

For Christ him-selfe is lykned to me,

That for his people dyed on rode;

1295

As fare I, right so fareth he,

He fedeth his birdes with his blode.

But these don yvell †ayenës good,

And ben his foon under frendes face;

I tolde hem how hir living stood;

1300

God amende hem, for his grace!"

Plowman. "What ayleth the Griffon, tell [me] why,

That he holdeth on that other syde?"

Pellican. "For they two ben [of kind], lykly,

And with [lyk] kindes robben wyde.

1305

The foul betokeneth [evill] pryde,

As Lucifer, that hygh †flowe was;

And sith he did him in evell hyde,

For he agilted goddes grace.

As bird [that] flyeth up in the ayr,

1310

And liveth by birdes that ben meke,

So these be flowe up in dispayr,

And shenden sely soules eke.

The soules that ben in sinnes seke,

He culleth hem; knele therfore, alas!

1315

For brybry goddes forbode breke,

God amende it, for his grace!

[189]

The hinder part is a lyoun,

A robber and a ravinere,

That robbeth the people in erth a-down,

1320

And in erth holdeth non his pere;

So fareth this foul, both fer and nere;

With temporel strength they people chase,

As a lyon proud in erthë here;

God amende hem for hys grace!"

1325

He flew forth with his winges twayn,

All drouping, dased, and dull.

But soone the Griffon cam agayn,

Of his foules the erth was full;

The Pellican he had cast to pull.

1330

So greet a nombre never seen ther was;

What maner of foules, tellen I woll,

If god woll give me of his grace.

With the Griffon comen foules fele,

Ravins, rokes, crowes, and pye,

1335

Gray foules, agadred wele,

Y-gurd, above they woldë hye.

Gledes and bosardes weren hem by;

Whyt molles and puttockes token hir place;

And lapwinges, that wel conneth ly,

1340

This felowship han for-gerd hir grace.

Longe the Pellican was out,

But at [the] laste he cometh agayn;

And brought with him the Phenix stout.

The Griffon wolde have flowe full fayn;

1345

His foules, that flewen as thycke as rayn,

The Phenix tho began hem chace;

To fly from him it was in vayn,

For he did vengeaunce and no grace.

[190]

He slew hem down without mercy,

1350

Ther astartë neyther free ne thrall;

On him they cast a rufull cry

When the Griffon down was fall.

He beet hem not, but slew hem all;

Whither he hem drove, no man may trace;

1355

Under the erthe, me thought, they yall;

Alas! they had a feble grace!

The Pellican then axed right,

"For my wryting if I have blame,

Who woll for me fight of flight?

1360

Who shall sheldë me from shame?

He that had a mayd to dame,

The lamb that slayn [for sinners] was,

Shall sheldë me from gostly blame;

For erthly harm is goddes grace.

1365

Therfore I praye every man,

Of my wryting have me excused."

This wryting wryteth the Pellican,

That thus these people hath dispysed;

For I am, fresh, fully advysed,

1370

I nill not maynteyn his manace.

For the devell is †oft disguysed,

To bringe a man to yvell grace.

Wyteth the Pellican, and not me,

For herof I nil not avowe,

1375

In hy ne in low, ne in no degrè,

But as a fable take it ye mowe.

To holy churche I will me bowe;

Ech man to amende him, Christ send space!

And for my wryting me alowe

1380

He that is almighty, for his grace.'

Finis.

1. Ploweman; plowe. 3. eate ynowe. 4. lyge; chynne. 5. cowe. 6. bone; skynne. 7. shoke; -drowe. 8. honge; pynne. 9. toke; tabarde; staffe. 12. pylgremage; platte. 13. bare. 14. forswatte. 15. sene. 17. behelde wele. 18. sawe. 19. knewe; snoute. 23. coulde; loute.

27. plowe. 28. meate. 29. auowe. 30. wyfe; fynde. 31. howe. 32. leude; bene; full (read fully; see l. 24); blynde. 33. fayne. 34. her; supply to; swet. 35. agayne. 36. eate. 37. The (for They; 1550, They); sayne. 38. hell. 39. payne. 41. her. 42. sayne. 43. corne. 44. speaketh. 45. preache. 46. nere; thynge. 47. ons (1550, ones); teache. 48. preachynge. 49. Saye; the. 51. praye; noman. 52. Whyle; tellynge. Colophon: fyrst parte.

53. stryfe. 55. bene. 57. great; vngrounde (!). 58. souble (error for souple). 60. foule. 61. one. 63. freers. 64. great. 65. heuyn. 68. foule mought. 70. Supply al; prease. 71. caytyffes. 72. one; encrease. 73. I-clepeth (!); londlese. 74. bene. 75. peace. 76. foule. 78. knowe. 79. trauayle. 80. ferre. 82. wodde. 83. sawe.

85. one. 86. grymme. 89. measure. 90. counsayle. 91. sharpe. 92. foule. 93. preache. 94. mekenesse. 95. teache. 96. blesse. 97. beareth wytnesse. 98. lambe; lykeneth. 99. tokenynge. 103. lowlyche; lowe. 105. crowne; couetours (read covertours). 106. pylloure (for pelure). 107. great treasours. 108. foule. 109. Preests shulde. 111. bateyle shulde. 112. her owne. 113. syttynges; hye. 114. souerayntie; house. 115. worshippe. 116. Who so (omit so); foule shall.

117. suche. 118. erthlye. 119. suche shall. 120. y-buylden her boure. 122. them to hem; supply be. 123. holde; one. 124. suche one shall (om. one). 125. peeres. 127. poore freers. 128. Nowe. 129. her. 130. noman; permagall. 131. Whyle; her. 132. suche; mote. 134. glytterande; great araye. 136. commen; maye; gaye. 137. daye. 138. great. 139. baye. 140. suche; mote. 141. punyshed (!); see l. 143. 142. sustayne. 144. her. 147. leude. 148. Suche; foule them befall (see ll. 156, 164).

149. meates. 150. songe; syttynge longe. 151. her. 152. meate; gonge. 153. meate; harpe; songe. 154. eche; mote. 155. amonge. 156. Suche; foule. 157. one. 159. staffe; pyrrey; read perrey. 160. made; lead. 161. golde; redde. 162. glytterande; golde (repeated from l. 161; read gown). 164. foule. 167. her. 168. hel. 169. her. 170. her gaye. 172. great. 179. poore. 180. Suche; foule.

182, 3. her. 184. kynge. 185. glyttryng (1550, glytteryng). 187. golde. 188. foule. 189. clepen (!); bene. 194. Antichriste; her. 196. foule. 198. done (but 1550, dome; read demed). 200. whiche. 201, 202. her. 204. suche; foule. 205. Her. 207. mote. 208. forbede (= forbēd). 209. suche. 211. mote; her.

215, 216. greater. 224. thynke. 225. Suche; stynke. 227. bowynge. 228. must nede euyll; I omit nede. 231. suche; sect sewys. 233. her. 234. Her. 235. Chrystes (!); read Christ his. 236. suche; foule. 238. her; lyfe. 240. Supply ther; great stryfe. 241. a knyfe (om. a). 243. suche. 244. suche; foule.

246. Supply he surely. 247. peace. 248. bade. 251. trusteth (!). 252. Supply such; foule. 256. roode. 257. commen. 258. Echeon. 259. poore. 260. befall; read fall. 261. Supply never. 263. Supply yet. 266. her. 267. her. 268. foule; falle. 272. her. 276. suche; foule.

282. shyppes (!); 1550, shepes. 283. ofte. 284. suche; foule. 287. poore. 289. Supply him. 292. sayne. 295. Supply there; nowe; them. 296. hoode. 297. blode. 298. buckette; (wall = well). 299. wode. 300. suche. 301. her. 302. Omit to? 304. sonne; worthe. 306. her crokettes; christall. 307. downe. 308. foule.

310. her. 315. Redde; vsyn. 316. falsshed foule. 317. Their (read Hir); her. 318. clemeth; see l. 525. 320. Supply by; raunsome. 324, 332, 340. foule. 324. to fall (omit to). 325. her. 328. her seales; dare. 329. great. 332. suche; supply false. 334. her. 336. sayne; poore. 337. eche preeste. 338. encrease. 339. heerdes; the. 340. suche.

341. falsely. 344. towne (twice). 345. raunsome. 346. christall. 348. suche. 348, 356, 364. foule. 349. gyltie. 350. Supply yet; maye. 352. maye. 353. gone. 355. poore; theyr (read hir). 356. suche. 357. suche. 358. suche crafte. 359. forbade. 360. Suche. 361. is (read ben). 363. dispyce. 364. suche. 365. sayne. 366. heuyn; holde. 367. toke. 368. solde. 369. Suche; bolde. 370. wytte. 371. colde. 372. suche.

374. leaue. 375. suche (twice). 378. Theyr (for Hir). 380. false Lucifere. 381. Lucifarre. 383. faythe; farre. 386. hounde; hungre. 387. vngratious. 388. suche. 388, 396, 404. foule. 389. heyre. 390. thynke; case. 391. dispeyre. 393. lorde. 394. anone pray. 395. purchase. 396. suche. 397. can (read conne). 398. spedde. 399. wylde. 400. redde. 401. leude boster (om. leude). 402. byshoppe; is (read as); horse. 403. be stedde. 404. Supply the; last.

405. byshoppes. 407. Suche; ranke. 408. heale none. 409. done. 410. one fors (!); misprint. 411. thanke suche. 412. suche. 412, 420, 436. foule. 413. canne; read conne; her. 414. made. 415. canne. 416. Suche; nowe. 418. her. 419. Suche. 420. suche. 422. Traueyle hungre; colde. 424. olde. 425. folde. 426. theyr (for hir); shepe. 428. suche. 429. her. 430. pouerte. 432. drynke; pyement; supply and; aparte. 433. a ferde. 434. as dyd (om. dyd). 435. dryuen her shepe; deserte. 436. suche.

437. xij. 438. Nowe; there; one. 440. echone. 443. stone. 447. nowe. 449. her. 450. leuyn. 451. But (read Ben). 452. suche. 453. plowe. 454. hate (!). 455. to hym (om. to); ynowe. 456. hatte. 457. poore; latte. 459. Suche; gnatte. 460. suche. 461. showe. 462. to kysse (om. to); fete. 463. ynowe. 464. sette; read seet (= sat). 465. Suche one; hym selfe foryete. 466. For call read tall (?); cf. l. 74. 467. wete. 468. suche; foule.

469. her. 470. golde. 472. catche sholde. 473. Her seruauntes; them (read hem); vnholde. 474. theyr (for hir). 475. holde. 476. suche. 478. fynde. 479. nowe. 480. saye behynde. 481. Howe; pynde. 482. kende; see l. 530. 483. putte; mynde. 484. amende. 485. nowe. 486. Howe. 487. howe. 488. worde; telleth (see l. 487). 490. offrende. 492. amende.

493. saye. 495. Suche hathe nowe. 497. varry. 498. wende. 500. pytie; amende. 501. lyfe. 503. sufferaunce; stryfe. 505. wysedome. 506. tende. 507. measure. 508. maye amende. 509. lyfe. 514. comprehende. 515. maynteyne. 516. amende. 517. delyghtes. 518. stronge. 519. vsen. 520. Agaynste pytie punishementes. 522. Her; worse dispende. 524. amende.

525. holy. 528. worse; wytlesse. 529. fyshe; fleshe. 530. ykende. 531. poore. 532. amende. 533. Dyuers (read Dives); suche; her dome. 534. sayne. 535. shulde done. 536. suche. 537. suche. 538. offende. 539. nowe. 540. amende. 542. nowe; yknowe. 544. trowe. 545. Eche; owe (!). 546. sende. 547. worde; folke; showe. 548. amende. 549. poore. 551. Nowe dare; poore. 552. her foe. 553. Amonge; mote. 554. suche suspende. 555. hente. 556. amende.

557. worlde. 558. loly; badde. 559. her. 560. forthe ladde. 561. dradde. 562. Supply servaunts; shende. 563. Eche; gladde. 564, 572, 580, 588. amende. 567. One; one. 569. Supply that; one. 570. defende. 571. badde. 572. suche. 573. badde; shepe. 574. forbade. 575. Swerde; shepe. 576. shepe. 578. her shepe; swerde; contende. 579. her shepe; great. 582. Supply that; chefe pastoure. 583. swerde. 584. bochoure. 586. Shulde; shepe; backe bende. 587. shoure.

590. forsoke. 591. Supply to (as in l. 592). 592. hoke. 593. shepe; dothe; coke. 594. Supply they; vntrende. 595. -boke. 596. them amende. 600. badde; behynde. 601. Suche. 602. offende. 604. suche; amende. 606. Read contrar. 608. mysse. 610. Peter (read him); reprehende. 611. But nat (om. But); heuyn blysse. 612. amende. 613. case. 616. bare. 618. stale; supply gan; myspende. 620. Supply now; amende.

622. hys false (om. false). 626. frende = fremd. 628. amende. 629. efte sone. 631. fordone. 632. sayne. 633. And ayenst (omit And); commaundementes (read maundements); crye. 634. brende. 635. suche. 636. amende. 637. Englande. 638. kynge. 639. suche. 640. Supply they (or hem); lyste. 641. her. 642. prysone; sende. 644. amende. 648. bayghted. 649. worse. 650. prysone; supply be; pende. 652. maye mende.

654. assente. 655. eche. 657. Her seales. 658. extende. 660. mischefe; supply may; amende. 662. worthe tenne pounde. 664. thyrde parte; rounde. 665. raunsounde. 666. saye suche parte; apende. 667. gothe; grounde. 668. amende. 669. fornycatioun. 670. shyllynges; paye. 671. absolution. 672. forthe; maye. 674. soule; brende. 676. suche; amende. 678. londe. 680. her honde. 681. theyr (for hir); bonde. 682. Worse beate; supply more; brende. 683. vnderstande. 684. amende.

685. Read religiouns. 686. moche laye. 690. attende. 691. hyghe. 692. amende. 694. aboute. 695. Supply the. 697. doute. 698. them defende. 699. nowe; folke; stoute. 700. kynge; nowe; amende. 701. forbode. 702. shulde. 704. shulde; lordshyppe. 705. bolde. 706. suche lordeshyppes; them (for hem). 707. her shepe; her folde.

709. countrefete. 710. her fruite. 711. Her; foryete. 712. dispyte. 713. poore. 715. her shepe. 720-1. great. 722. thre; supply han. 723. playeng. 724. kynge. 725. lette. 729. soule; fore. 731. her. 732. Her profytes. 734. poore. 736. lorde. 737. catche. 738. lorde. 739. poore. 740. syke (for seke); see l. 1313.

743. also (read als). 746. poore; spende. 748. sende. 749. her; suche. 750. treasour. 751. her paryshe. 752. -floure. 753. Her lyfe shulde. 755. her lele. 756. Suche. 759. her; supply hir. 760. great. 761. thynke. 763. dredefull. 764. Suche wretches. 765. her. 767. poore; hungre. 769. rente. 770. recke. 772. one.

773. horedome. 777. suche tabyde. 778. Howe; yelde. 779. hye; mowe. 780. Suche; wytte; nelde. 782. foryet. 785. mowe gete. 787. sette. 788. Suche treasour. 789. mote; saye. 790. holdynge. 791. iaye. 792. selfe nothynge. 793. erle; kynge. 795. tythynge; offrynge. 798. Supply els. 804. false.

808. her lorde. 811. falsely; worde. 812. her. 814. the; supply me. 815. suche; supply folk. 818. suche falsely fayne. 819. dredeful. 820. payne. 821. selfe; done. 825. Supply the. 826. her false. 828. suche. 830. Read vikere. 831. trowe; false. 834. Eche; lye. 835. Read Who speke ayeinës; her.

837. howe. 838. Onely; Christe. 840. or (read on). 841. trowe. 843. Supply same. 845. howe; amonge. 846. waye. 848. betraye. 849. maye. 851. saye. 852. blende. 853. on (read upon); her. 854. poorely; porte. 855. sacramentes; done. 856. catchynge; her comforte. 857. eche. 858. done; wronge; her dysporte. 859. afraye. 860. lorde. 862. aye. 863. sweare. 865. Suche bearen; heauen. 866. assoyle. 868. true (better trewë).

869. wrestlynge. 871. Markette beaters; medlynge. 874. debate. 875. sacramentes; sayle (!). 876. Howe; suche; gate. 879. speake. 880. sompnynge. 881. saye; supply with; lye. 882. her eye. 887. twyse; daye he (om. he). 889. mote. 890. horne. 891. wytche. 892. Suchen. 893. mote; some; stone. 895. Supply to; lyuen. 896. saye. 897. Aboute suche; great. 898. suche; stande. 900. maye.

901. That it leude people se mowe. 902. Mary thou (om. thou). 903. Aboute; nowe. 909. poore. 910. Supply in; owne. 911. her. 914. mowe; colde. 915. poore; sprete; Christe. 916. olde. 917. sweardes. 918. Baudryke (read Baudriks). 919. Suche; her. 920. suche; bene. 921. her. 922. Whome (twice). 923. bene. 925. gay. 926. mote. 929. her. 930. her shone. 932. none.

933. Nowe. 934. That men (om. That). 935. done. 937. Suche. 938. Lyke. arayde. 939. The proude (om. The); pendauntes; her. 940. Falsely; betrayde. 941. Shryfte-. 943. sacramentes. 945. her byshoppe. 948. thus (read this); sayne. 949. her. 952. Suche; eche. 953. profyte. 955. dare; sayne. 956. suche. 957. byshoppes. 958. mote. 959. her. 960. Suche prelates. 961. suche. 962. suche. 963. Howe. 964. greatly.

965. sayne. 966. them (for hem). 967. goddes goodesse (!). 968. maynteyne. 969. Her; shulde. 970. Her lyuynge leude. 971. saye; maye. 972. muste. 973. lye. 975. anone. 978. meane. 981. longe; mette. 983. Amonge; folke; sette. 984. halfe. 985. byshoppe. 987. absolution maye; them (for hem). 988. soule; fore. 993. her. 994. suche. 995. came. 996. great.

997. monke lorde. 998. kynge. 999. proude. 1000. meate; drynke; supply in. 1001. wearen; rynge. 1003. meate; drynke. 1004. on a (om. a). 1007. saye. 1008. deynties; her; foode. 1010. religion. 1012. lordshyppe; towne. 1013. Nowe. 1014. fyne clothe. 1016. meane. 1017. catchynge. 1018. great lykynge. 1019. lyuynge. 1020. Accordynge; Benette; lyuynge. 1021. her; ouerse. 1022. Her poore tenaunce. 1023. hyre (1550, hyer). 1025. farre. 1027. poore. 1028. cheryshe.

1029. commenly. 1030. poore. 1031. perfection. 1032. Her fathers ryden; her. 1034. olde. 1035. Her fathers. 1036. colde. 1037. And all (om. And). 1038. Benette. 1039. ease. 1040. besette. 1042. plowe. 1043. Threshynge; dykynge; towne; towne. 1044. halfe ynowe. 1046. ease. 1050. badde; supply ful; cherelyche. 1051. churlyche. 1052. earth. 1053. Benette. 1055. mette. 1057. Supply now. 1060. treasoure.

1062. suche. 1064. foule. 1065. tolde. 1066. makynge. 1067. coulde. 1068. wolde. 1069. goodnesse. 1070. speake; thynke. 1071. her (twice). 1074. came; kynde. 1075. trowe. 1076. lost; mynde. 1077-80. shulde. 1078. gouernayle. 1080. auayle. 1081. Eche; trauayle. 1083. assayle. 1085. poore. 1086. nothynge; hadde. 1087. shulde. 1088. nolde; dradde. 1089. wolde; sadde. 1090. lust (read list). 1091. such (read shuld). 1092. shepe; wust (read wist).

1093. prelates wolde. 1095. shulde stande; colde. 1096. Her seruauntes. 1098. worshyppe. 1100. Suche. 1102. Shulde; thynge. 1104. her kynge. 1105. clothynge. 1107. offrynge. 1108. lordshypppe (!) none. 1109. crye. 1111. hye. 1114. father. 1115. to be (om. to). 1116. Read wikke? 1118. Goostly; earthly. 1119. shulde; hane. 1121. blode. 1122. Badde. 1124. myschefe.

1125-30. Her. 1125. clothynge. 1126. treasoure; lyfe. 1128. lordshyppe. 1131. Poore; spirite. 1133. the. 1135. haste; lyue (read leve). 1136. eche. 1139. glosynge. 1141. wolde; eche; there shulde. 1142. enuye. 1146. lyfe. 1148. the; stryfe. 1149. Supply ye. 1151. neyther (read not). 1154. warme; supply be.

1157. sacramentes. 1158. speake; slye. 1159. tythynges offringes with (omit offringes); ententes. 1160. lye. 1161. done; ease. 1162. there; none. 1163. sayne; pease. 1167. wolde. 1168. Leaue; chattrynge. 1173. fore. 1174. done. 1175. done. 1176. shalte; man. 1177. Supply nay. 1179. sacramente. 1180. speake. 1181-3. her. 1182. shulde; poore; spirite. 1184. false habyte. 1186. hye.

1190. connynge. 1191. her. 1193. sacramentes. 1195. speake; dele. 1196. nothynge. 1197. vsen; mysse. 1199. trowe. 1200. reason. 1202. commaundementes. 1204. sacramentes. 1205. trowe. 1206. wronge. 1207. dare. 1208. songe. 1209. holsome lyfe. 1210. done; dewe. 1212. Weddynge. 1213. solde. 1216. maye. 1217. lye. 1218. saye; thorowe. 1219. fleshe; blode; mystrye.

1221. Howe. 1222. subgette. 1227. Ayenst. 1230. shulde. 1232. pouerte. 1235. dystrye. 1238. leaue; preache. 1239. speake agaynst. 1240. falsely teache. 1245. sayde. 1248. falshede.

1253. badde. 1254. seruauntes. 1255. amende. 1259. nothynge; estate. 1260. dysease. 1261. leaue. 1262. porte. 1263. cursynge shulde. 1264. brynge. 1266. nothynge; done. 1268. howe soone. 1269. wode. 1271. swore; bloode. 1274. reasons; the. 1275. fleshe. 1276. shalte. 1277. flewe; waye. 1278. wepe. 1279. saye. 1280. shepe. 1281. herde. 1282. worde. 1283. wrytte.

1286. trauayle; any man wolde (om. man). 1287. solde. 1288. Supply greet. 1293. lykened. 1297. done; ayenst gode. 1298. fone. 1299. howe her lyuynge stode. 1301. Supply me. 1303. Supply Pellican (wrongly prefixed to l. 1305); supply of kind. 1304. Supply lyk. 1305. foule; supply evill. 1306. flewe (read flowe; see l. 1311). 1309. byrde; supply that; ayre. 1311. into (read in); dyspayre.

1317. parte. 1319. earth a downe. 1320. none. 1321. foule; ferre. 1322. And wyth (om. And). 1323. proude; earth. 1325. (Pellican is written above this line); flewe; twayne. 1326. droupynge. 1327. came agayne. 1328. earth. 1338. great; sene there. 1336. Igurde. 1338. Whyte; her. 1339. lye. 1340. for gerde her. 1342. Supply the. 1343. stoute. 1344. fayne. 1345. rayne. 1345. flye; vayne.

1349. slewe; downe. 1350. There. 1352. downe. 1353. bete; slewe. 1358. wrytynge. 1361. mayde. 1362. And the lambe (om. And); supply for sinners. 1364. erthely harme. 1366-7. wrytynge. 1369. freshe. 1370. maynteyne. 1371. often (read oft). 1375. hye; lowe. 1378. Eche; sende. 1379. wrytynge.

I, Jack Uplande, make my mone to very god and to all

true belevinge in Christ, that Antichrist and his disciples, by

colour of holines, walken and deceiven Christes church by many

fals figures, wherethrough, by Antichrist and his, many vertues

been transposed to vices.

But the fellest folk that ever Antichrist found been last

brought into the church, and in a wonder wyse; for they been of

divers sectes of Antichrist, sowen of divers countrees and

kinredes. And all men knowen wel, that they ben not obedient

to bishoppes, ne lege men to kinges; neither they tillen ne

sowen, weden, ne repen woode, corn, ne gras, neither nothing

that man shuld helpe but only hem-selves, hir lyves to sustein.

And these men han all maner power of god, as they sayen,

in heaven and in earth, to sell heaven and hell to whom that

hem lyketh; and these wrecches wete never where to been

hemselves.

And therfore, frere, if thine order and rules ben grounded on

goddes law, tell thou me, Jack Upland, that I aske of thee; and

if thou be or thinkest to be on Christes syde, kepe thy pacience.

Saynt Paul techeth, that al our dedes shuld be don in charitè,

and els it is nought worth, but displesing to god and harm to

oure owne soules. And for because freres chalengen to be

gretest clerkes of the church, and next folowinge Christ in

livinge, men shulde, for charitè, axe hem some questions, and

[192]

pray hem to grounde their answers in reson and in holy writ; for

els their answere wolde nought be worth, be it florished never so

faire; and, as me think, men might skilfully axe thus of a frere.

1. Frere, how many orders be in erthe, and which is the

perfitest order? Of what order art thou? Who made thyn

order? What is thy rule? Is there ony perfiter rule than Christ

himselfe made? If Christes rule be moost perfit, why rulest

thou thee not therafter? Without more, why shall a frere be

more punished if he breke the rule that his patron made, than if

he breke the hestes that god himself made?

2. Approveth Christ ony more religions than oon, that saynt

James speketh of? If he approveth no more, why hast thou left

his rule, and taken another? Why is a frere apostata, that leveth

his order and taketh another secte; sith there is but oon religion

of Christ?

3. Why be ye wedded faster to your habits than a man is to his

wyfe? For a man may leve his wyf for a yere or two, as many

men do; and if †ye leve your habit a quarter of a yere, ye shuld

be holden apostatas.

4. Maketh youre habit you men of religion, or no? If it

do, than, ever as it wereth, your religion wereth; and, after that

the habit is better, is you[r] religion better. And whan ye liggen

it besyde you, than lig ye youre religion besyde you, and ben

apostatas. Why by ye you so precious clothes, sith no man

seketh such but for vaine glorie, as saynt Gregory saith?

5. What betokeneth youre grete hood, your scaplerye, youre

knotted girdel, and youre wyde cope?

6. Why use ye al oon colour, more then other Christen men

do? What betokeneth that ye been clothed all in one maner

clothinge?

7. If ye saye it betokeneth love and charitè, certes, than ye be

ofte ypocrites, whan ony of you hateth other, and in that, that ye

wollen be said holy by youre clothinge.

8. Why may not a frere were clothing of an-other secte of

freres, sith holines stondeth not in the clothes?

[193]

9. Why holde ye silence in one howse more than in another;

sith men ought over-al to speke the good and leve the evell?

10. Why ete you flesh in one house more than in another,

if youre rule and youre order be perfit, and the patron that

made it?

11. Why gette ye your dispensacions, to have it more esy?

Certes, either it semeth that ye be unperfit; or he, that made it

so hard that ye may not holde it. And siker, if ye holde not the

rule of youre patrons, ye be not than hir freres; and so ye lye

upon youre-selves!

12. Why make ye you as dede men whan ye be professed;

and yet ye be not dede, but more quicke beggars than ye were

before? And it semeth evell a deed man to go aboute and

begge.

13. Why will ye not suffer youre novices here your councels in

youre chapter-house, er that they been professed; if youre councels

been trew, and after god[d]es lawe?

14. Why make ye you so costly houses to dwell in; sith Christ

did not so, and dede men shuld have but graves, as falleth to

dede men? And yet ye have more gorgeous buildinges than

many lordes of Englonde. For ye maye wenden through the

realme, and ech night, wel nigh, ligge in youre owne courtes;

and so mow but right few lordes do.

15. Why hyre ye to ferme youre limitors, gevinge therfore

eche yeer a certain rente; and will not suffer oon in an-others

limitacion, right as ye were your-selves lordes of contreys?

16. Why be ye not under youre bisshops visitacions, and liege

men to oure kinge?

17. Why axe ye no letters of bretherhedes of other mens

prayers, as ye desyre that other men shulde aske letters of you?

18. If youre letters be good, why graunte ye them not generally

to al maner men, for the more charitè?

19. Mow ye make ony man more perfit brother for your

prayers, than god hath by oure beleve, by our baptyme and his

owne graunte? If ye mowe, certes, than ye be above god.

[194]

20. Why make ye men beleve that your golden trentall songe

of you, to take therfore ten shillinges, or at the leest fyve

shillinges, will bringe soules out of helle, or out of purgatorye?

If this be sooth, certes, ye might bring all soules out of payne.

And that wolle ye nought; and than ye be out of charitè.

100

21. Why make ye men beleve, that he that is buried in youre

habit shall never come in hell; and ye wite not of youre-selfe,

whether ye shall to hell, or no? And if this were sooth, ye

shulde selle youre high houses, to make many habites, for to save

many mens soules.

105

22. Why stele ye mens children for to make hem of youre

secte; sith that theft is agaynst goddes heste; and sithe youre

secte is not perfit? Ye know not whether the rule that ye binde

him to, be best for him or worst!

23. Why undernime ye not your brethren, for their trespas

110

after the lawe of the gospell; sith that underneminge is the best

that may be? But ye put them in prison ofte, whan they do after

goddes lawe; and, by saynt Austines rule, if ony did amisse and

wolde not amende him, ye should put him from you.

24. Why covete ye shrifte, and burying of other mens parishens,

115

and non other sacrament that falleth to Christen folke?

25. Why busie ye not to here shrifte of poore folke, as well

as of riche lordes and ladyes; sith they mowe have more plentee

of shrifte-fathers than poore folk may?

26. Why saye ye not the gospel in houses of bedred men; as

120

ye do in riche mens, that mowe go to churche and here the

gospell?

27. Why covette †ye not to burye poore folk among you; sith

that they ben moost holy, as ye sayn that ye ben for youre

povertee?

125

28. Why will ye not be at hir diriges, as ye been at riche mens;

sith god prayseth hem more than he doth riche men?

29. What is thy prayer worth; sith thou wilt take therefore?

For of all chapmen ye nede to be moost wyse; for drede of

symonye.

130

30. What cause hast thou that thou wilt not preche the

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gospell, as god sayeth that thou shuldest; sith it is the best

lore, and also oure beleve?

31. Why be ye evell apayed that secular prestes shulde preche

the gospel; sith god him-selfe hath boden hem?

135

32. Why hate ye the gospell to be preched; sith ye be so

moche holde thereto? For ye winne more by yere with

In principio, than with all the rules that ever youre patrons made.

And, in this, minstrels been better than ye. For they contraryen

not to the mirthes that they maken; but ye contraryen the gospell

140

bothe in worde and dede.

33. Frere, whan thou receivest a peny for to say a masse,

whether sellest thou goddes body for that peny, or thy prayer,

or els thy travail? If thou sayest thou wolt not travaile for to

saye the masse but for the peny, †than certes, if this be soth, than

145

thou lovest to littel mede for thy soule. And if thou sellest

goddes body, other thy prayer, than it is very symony; and art

become a chapman worse than Judas, that solde it for thirty

pens.

34. Why wrytest thou hir names in thy tables, that yeveth thee

150

moneye; sith god knoweth all thing? For it semeth, by thy

wryting, that god wolde not rewarde him but thou wryte him in

thy tables; god wolde els forgetten it.

35. Why berest thou god in honde, and sclaundrest him that he

begged for his mete; sith he was lord over all? For than hadde

155

he ben unwyse to have begged, and no nede therto.

36. Frere, after what law rulest thou thee? Wher findest thou

in goddes law that thou shuldest thus begge?

37. What maner men nedeth for to begge?

Of whom oweth suche men to begge?

160

Why beggest thou so for thy brethren?

If thou sayest, for they have nede; than thou doest it for the

more perfeccion, or els for the leest, or els for the mene. If it be

the moost perfeccion of all, than shulde al thy brethren do so;

and than no man neded to begge but for him-selfe, for so shuld no

165

man begge but him neded. And if it be the leest perfeccion, why

lovest thou than other men more than thy-selfe? For so thou art

[196]

not well in charitè; sith thou shuldest seke the more perfeccion

after thy power, livinge thy-selfe moost after god; and thus, leving

that imperfeccion, thou shuldest not so begge for hem. And if

170

it is a good mene thus to begge as thou doest, than shuld no man

do so but they ben in this good mene; and yet such a mene,

graunted to you, may never be grounded in goddes lawe; for

than both lered and lewed that ben in mene degrè of this worlde

shuld go aboute and begge as ye do. And if all suche shuld do

175

so, certes, wel nigh al the world shuld go aboute and begge as

ye do: and so shulde there be ten beggers agaynst oon yever.

38. Why procurest thou men to yeve thee hir almes, and sayest

it is so meedful; and thou wilt not thy-selfe winne thee that

mede?

180

39. Why wilt thou not begge for poore bedred men, that ben

poorer than ony of youre secte, that liggen, and mow not go

aboute to helpe themselves; sith we be all brethren in god, and

that bretherhed passeth ony other that ye or ony man coude

make? And where moost nede were, there were moost perfeccion;

185

either els ye holde hem not youre pure brethren, or worse. But

than ye be imperfite in your begginge.

40. Why make ye you so many maisters among you; sith it

is agaynst the techinge of Christ and his apostels?

41. Whos ben all your riche courtes that ye han, and all your

190

riche jewels; sith ye sayen that ye han nought, in proper ne in

comune? If ye sayn they ben the popes, why †geder ye then, of

poore men and of lordes, so much out of the kinges honde to make

your pope riche? And sith ye sayen that it is greet perfeccion to

have nought, in proper ne in comune, why be ye so fast aboute to

195

make the pope (that is your †fader) riche, and putte on him

imperfeccion? Sithen ye sayn that your goodes ben all his, and he

shulde by reson be the moost perfit man, it semeth openlich that

ye ben cursed children, so to sclaunder your †fader, and make

him imperfit. And if ye sayn that tho goodes be yours, then do

200

ye ayenst youre rule; and if it be not ayenst your rule, than might

[197]

ye have both plough and cart, and labour as other good men don,

and not so begge to by losengery, and ydell, as ye don. And if ye

say that it is more perfeccion to begge than to travaill or worch

with youre hand, why preche ye not openly, and teche all men to

205

do so, sith it is the best and moost perfit lyf to helpe of her

soules, as ye make children to begge that might have been riche

heyres?

42. Why make ye not your festes to poore men, and yeveth

hem yeftes, as ye don to the riche; sith poore men han more

210

nede than the riche?

43. What betokeneth that ye go tweyne and tweyne †togeder?

If ye be out of charitè, ye accorden not in soule.

44. Why begge ye, and take salaries therto, more than other

prestes; sith he that moost taketh, most charge he hath?

215

45. Why holde ye not saynt Fraunces rule and his testament;

sith Fraunces saith, that god shewed him this living and this

rule? And certes, if it were goddes will, the pope might not

fordo it; or els Fraunces was a lyar, that sayde on this wyse.

And but this testament that he made accorde with goddes will,

220

els erred he as a lyar that were out of charitè; and as the law

sayeth, he is accursed that letteth the rightfull last will of a deed

man lacke. And this testament is the last will of Fraunces that

is a deed man; it seemeth therefore that all his freres ben

cursed.

225

46. Why wil ye not touche no coined money with the crosse,

ne with the kinges heed, as ye don other jewels both of golde and

silver? Certes, if ye despyse the crosse or the kinges heed, than

ye be worthy to be despysed of god and the kinge. And sith ye

will receyve money in your hertes and not with youre handes, it

230

seemeth that ye holde more holinesse in your hondes than in your

hertes; and than be ye false to god.

47. Why have ye exempt you fro our kinges lawes and visitinge

of our bishoppes more than other Christen men that liven in this

realme, if ye be not gilty of traitory to our realme, or trespassers

235

to oure bishoppes? But ye will have the kinges lawes for trespas

don to you; and ye wil have power of other bishops more than

[198]

other prestes; and also have leave to prison youre brethren as

lordes in youre courtes, more than other folkes han that ben the

kinges lege men.

240

48. Why shal some secte of you freres paye eche yere a certaine

to hir generall provinciall or minister, or els to hir soverains,

but-if he stele a certain number of children, as some men sayn? And

certes, if this be soth, than be ye constrayned, upon certaine

payne, to do thefte, agaynst goddes commaundement,

245

non furtum facies.

49. Why be ye so hardy, to graunte, by letters of fraternitè, to

men and women, that they shall have part and merit of all your

good dedes; and ye witen never whether god be apayed with

youre dedes because of youre sinne? Also ye witen never whether

250

that man or woman be in state to be saved or damned; than shall

he have no merit in heven for his owne dedes, ne for none other

mans. And all were it so, that he shuld have part of youre good

dedes; yet shulde he have no more than god would geve him,

after that he were worthy; and so much shall eche man have of

255

goddes yefte, withoute youre limitacion. But if ye will saye that

ye ben goddes felowes, and that he may not do without youre

assent, than be ye blasphemers to god.

50. What betokeneth that ye have ordeined, that when such

oon as ye have mad youre brother or sister, and hath a letter of

260

your sele, that letter †mot be brought in youre holy chapter and

there be red; or els ye will not praye for him? But and ye willen

not praye specially for all other that weren not mad youre brethren

or sistren, than were ye not in right charitè; for that ought to be

commune, and namely in goostly thinges.

265

51. Frere, what charitè is this—to overcharge the people by

mighty begginge, under colour of prechinge or praying or masses

singing? Sith holy writ biddeth not thus, but even the contrary;

for al such goostly dedes shulde be don freely, as god yeveth hem

freely.

270

52. Frere, what charitè is this—to begyle children or they

commen to discrecion, and binde hem to youre orders, that been

[199]

not grounded in goddes lawe, against hir frendes wil? Sithen by

this foly ben many apostatas, both in will and dede, and many

ben apostatas in hir will during all hir lyfe, that wolde gladly be

275

discharged if they wist how; and so, many ben apostatas that

shulden in other states have ben trewe men.

53. Frere, what charitè is this—to make so mony freres in

every countrey, to the charge of the people? Sith persounes

and vicares alone, ye, secular prestes alone, ye, monkes and

280

chanons alone, with bishops above hem, were y-nough to the

church, to do prestes office. And to adde mo than y-nough is

a foul errour, and greet charge to the people; and this is openly

against goddes will, that ordeined all thinges to be don in weight,

nomber, and mesure. And Christ himself was apayed with twelve

285

apostles and a few disciples, to preche and do prestes office to all

the hole world; than was it better don than it is now at this tyme

by a thousand deel. And right so as foure fingers with a thumbe

in a mannes hande, helpeth a man to worche, and double nomber

of fingers in one hond shuld lette him more; and the more

290

nomber that there were, passing the mesure of goddes ordinaunce,

the more were a man letted to worke: right so, as it semeth, it is

of these newe orders that ben added to the church, without grounde

of holy writ and goddes ordinaunce.

54. Frere, what charitè is this—to lye to the people, and saye

295

that ye folowe Christ in povertè more than other men don?

And yet, in curious and costly howsinge, and fyne and precious

clothing, and delicious and lykinge fedinge, and in tresoure and

jewels and riche ornamentes, freres passen lordes and other riche

worldly men; and soonest they shuld bringe hir cause aboute,

300

be it never so costly, though goddes lawe be put abacke.

55. Frere, what charitè is this—to †gader up the bokes of holy

writ and putte hem in tresory, and so emprisoune hem from

secular prestes and curates; and by this cautel lette hem to

preche the gospell freely to the people without worldly mede; and

305

also to defame good prestes of heresy, and lyen on hem openly,

[200]

for to lette hem to shew goddes lawe, by the holy gospell, to the

Christen people?

56. Frere, what charitè is this—to fayn so much holines in

your bodily clothing, that ye clepe your habit, that many blinde

310

foles desyren to dye therin more than in an-other? And also,

that a frere that leveth his habit (late founden of men), may not

be assoiled till he take it again, but is an apostata, as ye sayn,

and cursed of god and man both? The frere beleveth treuth and

pacience, chastitè, mekenesse, and sobrietè; yet for the more

315

part of his lyfe he may soone be assoiled of his prior; and if he

bringe hoom to his house much good by yere, be it never so

falsly begged and pilled of the poore and nedy people in courtes

aboute, he shal be hold[en] a noble frere! O lord, whether this

be charitè!

320

57. Frere, what charitè is this—to prese upon a riche man,

and to entyce him to be buried among you from his parish-church,

and to suche riche men geve letters of fraternitè confirmed

by youre generall sele, and therby to bere him in honde that he

shall have part of all your masses, matins, prechinges, fastinges,

325

wakinges, and all other good dedes don by your brethren of youre

order (both whyles he liveth and after that he is deed), and yet

ye witen never whether youre dedes be acceptable to god, ne

whether that man that hath that letter be able by good living to

receive ony part of youre dedes? And yet a poore man, that ye

330

wite wel or supposen in certain to have no good of, ye ne geve

no such letters, though he be a better man to god than suche

a riche man; nevertheles, this poore man doth not recche therof.

For, as men supposen, suche letters and many other that freres

behesten to men, be full of false deceites of freres, out of reson

335

and god[d]es lawe and Christen mens faith.

58. Frere, what charitè is this—to be confessoures of lordes

and ladyes, and to other mighty men, and not amend hem in hir

living; but rather, as it semeth, to be the bolder to pille hir poore

tenauntes and to live in lechery, and there to dwelle in your office

340

of confessour, for winning of worldly goodes, and to be holden grete

[201]

by colour of suche goostly offices? This seemeth rather pryde

of freres than charitè of god.

59. Frere, what charitè is this—to sayn that who-so liveth

after youre order, liveth most parfitly, and next foloweth the

345

state of aposteles in povertè and penaunce; and yet the wysest

and gretest clerkes of you wende, or sende, or procure to the

court of Rome to be mad cardinales or bishoppes or the popes

chapelayns, and to be assoiled of the vowe of povertè and

obedience to your ministers; in the which, as ye sayn, standeth

350

moost perfeccion and merite of youre orders? And thus ye faren

as Pharisees, that sayen oon, and do another to the contrarye.

60. Why name ye more the patron of youre order in youre

Confiteor, whan ye beginne masse, than other saintes, as apostels,

or marters, that holy churche holde[th] more glorious than hem,

355

and clepe hem youre patrons and youre avowries?

61. Frere, whet[h]er was saint Fraunces, in making of his rule that

he sette thyne order in, a fole and lyar, or els wyse and trew? If

ye sayn that he was not a fole but wyse; ne a lyar, but trew; why

shewe ye the contrary by youre doing, whan by youre suggestion to

360

the pope ye said that Fraunces rule was mad so hard that ye might

not live to holde it without declaracion and dispensacion of the

pope? And so, by youre dede, ye lete your patron a fole, that made

a rule so hard that no man may wel kepe [it]; and eke youre

dede proveth him a lyar, where he sayeth in his rule, that he took

365

and lerned it of the holy gooste. For how might ye, for shame,

praye the pope to undo that the holy goost biddeth, as whan ye

prayed him to dispense with the hardnesse of your order?

62. Frere, which of the foure orders of freres is best, to a man

that knoweth not which is the beste, but wolde fain enter into the

370

beste and none other? If thou sayest that thyn is the best, than

sayest thou that noon of the other is as good as thyn; and in this

eche frere in the three other orders wolle say that thou lyest; for

in the selve maner eche other frere woll say that his order is

beste. And thus to eche of the foure orders ben the other three

375

contrary in this poynte; in the which if ony say sooth, that is oon

[202]

aloon; for there may but oon be the beste of foure. So foloweth

it, that if ech of these orders answered to this question as thou

doest, three were false and but oon trew; and yet no man shulde

wite who that were. And thus it semeth, that the moost part of

380

freres ben or shulde be lyars in this poynt, and they shulde

answere therto. If †ye say that an-other ordre of the freres is

better than thyn or as good; why toke ye not rather therto as to

the better, whan thou mightest have chosen at the beginning?

And eke, why shuldest thou be an apostata, to leve thyn order

385

and take thee to that that is better? And so, why goest thou not

from thyn order into that?

63. Frere, is there ony perfiter rule of religion than Christ,

goddes sone, gave in his gospell to his brethren, or than that

religion that saynt James in his epistle maketh mencion of? If

390

†ye saye 'yes,' than puttest thou on Christ, that is wysdom of

god the †fader, uncunning, unpower, or evil will. For eyther

than he coude not make his rule so good as an-other did his,

(and so he hadde be uncunning, that he might not make his rule

so good as another man might, and so were he unmighty and not

395

god); or he wolde not make his rule so perfit as an-other did his

(and so had he ben evill-willed, namely to himselfe!) For if he

might, and coude, and wold[e] have mad a rule perfit without

defaute, and did not, he was not goddes sone almighty. For if

ony other rule be perfiter than Christes, than must Christes rule

400

lacke of that perfeccion by as much as the other were more

perfiter; and so were defaute, and Christ had failed in makinge

of his rule. But to putte ony defaute or failinge in god, is

blasphemy. If thou saye that Christes rule and that religion

that saynt James maketh mencion of, is the perfitest; why holdest

405

thou not than thilke rule without more? And why clepest thou

thee rather of saynt Frances or saynt Dominiks rule or religion or

order, than of Christes rule or Christes order?

64. Frere, canst thou assigne ony defaute in Christes rule of

the gospell, with the whiche he taught al men sikerly to be saved,

410

if they kepte it to hir endinge? If thou saye it was to hard,

than sayest thou that Christ lyed; for he saide of his rule: 'My

[203]

yoke is softe, and my burthen light.' If thou saye Christes rule

was to light, that may be assigned for no defaute, for the better

may it be kept. If thou sayst that there is no defaute in Christes

415

rule of the gospell, sith Christ him-selfe saith it is light and esy:

what nede was it to patrons of freres to adde more therto, and so

to make an harder religion, to save freres, than was the religion

that Christes apostels and his disciples helden and weren saved

by; but-if they wolden that her freres saten above the apostels

420

in heven, for the harder religion that they kepen here? And so

wolde they sitten in heven above Christ himselfe for the moo and

strait observaunces; than so shulde they be better than Christ

himselfe, with misc[h]aunce!

Go now forth, and frayne youre clerkes,

425

And grounde you in goddes lawe, and geve Jack answere.

And whan ye han assoiled me that I have said, sadly in treuth,

I shall soill thee of thyn order, and save thee to heven!

If freres cunne not or mow not excuse hem of these questions

asked of hem, it semeth that they be horrible gilty against god

430

and hir even-Christen; for which gyltes and defautes it were

worthy that the order that they calle hir order were for-don. And

it is wonder that men susteyne hem or suffer hem live in suche

maner. For holy writ biddeth that thou do well to the meke,

and geve not to the wicked, but forbid to geve hem breed, lest

435

they be mad thereby mightier through you. Finis.

¶ Prynted for Jhon Gough.

Cum Priuilegio Regali.

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

3. walkyn. deceauen. 5, 6, 7. bene (for been; very often). 6. folke. founde. 9. kynreddes. 11. grasse, nether nething (sic). 12. onely. her lyfes. 13. had; Sp. han. 15. hym (for hem). wreches. 16. -selfes. 18. the. 20. teacheth. don. 21. not; Sp. nought. dyspleasynge. harme. 22. because (Sp. that). 23. greatest.

25. reason. write. 26. not; Sp. nought. 28. earthe. 29. thyne. 31. perfyte. 32. the. 33. break. 34. breake. 35. one. 36. speaketh. mor; Sp. more. lef; Sp. left. 37. leaueth. 38. one. 39. Christe. 40. abytes; Sp. habits. 41. leaue. wyfe. yeare. 42. you; read ye. leaue. abyte; Sp. habit. yeare. 44. abyte; Sp. habit. 45. weareth (twice). 46. the abbyte; Sp. your habit. 48. apostatase; Sp. apostataes. by; Sp. buy. 50. greate hoode. 51. coape. 52. one coloure. 53. bene. 57. sayde. clotynge (!). 58. maye. weare clothynge.

60. Sp. om. in before another. 61. speake. leaue. 62. eate. 65. easy. 66. ether; Sp. either. vnperfyte. 67. harde. seker; Sp. siker. 68. her. 69. selfes. 70. ye you; Sp. om. ye (!). 70, 71. deade (twice). beggers; Sp. beggars. ye; Sp. you. 72. deade. 74. heare. 75. eare; Sp. ere. Sp. haue ben (C. om. haue). 78. Sp. falleth it to. 78, 79. deade (twice). 79. gorgeous buyldinges; Sp. courts. 80. maye; Sp. now (error for mow). 81. welnygh; Sp. will (!). 83. here; Sp. heire (read hyre). geuynge. 84. yeare. certayne. one. 91. Sp. of men. 92. perfyte. Sp. brether (!). 93. baptyme; Sp. baptisme.

96. Sp. om. the. least. 97. oute. 98, 102. south; Sp. sooth. 101. abyte; Sp. habit. 103. abytes. 105. steale. 107. wether; Sp. whether. 109. vndermyne (for vndernyme); Sp. vnderneme. 111. maye. presonne; Sp. prison. 112. Sp. Augustines. dyd; Sp. doe. 114. buryenge. 115. none. 116. heare; Sp. heare to. 117. plentie. 118. folke maye. 120. heare. 122. Both you. folke amonge. 123. sayne. 124. pouertye. 125. her. bene. 126. Sp. other (for riche). 128. Sp. om. of. 130. wylte. preache.

133. payed; Sp. apaid. preache. 134. gosgel (!). Sp. bodden. hym; Sp. hem. 135. preached. 136. yeare. 139. myrtes; Sp. mirths. 142. Sp. thy; C. om. (before prayer). 144. Sp. that certes (error for than certes); C. & certes. 149. her. the. 150. thynge. 151. Sp. writest; Sp. om. him. 152. Sp. forgotten (!). 153. bearest. 154. meate. 156. the. 159. C. Of; Sp. For. 162. perfection (but perfeccion in l. 163). least. meane (often). 165. least. 166. arte.

167. charytye. sithe. 168. leauynge. 169. Sp. them (for hem). 170. doeste. 173. learned and lewd; Sp. lerid and leaud. 174. Sp. om. suche. 176. one. 177. the here. 178. C. medefull; Sp. needful. the. 182. themselfes. 183. coulde. 185. hym; Sp. them (read hem). C. or; Sp. but. 187. amonge. 188. teachynge. 189. Whose. rych. 190. yewels; Sp. iewels. improper ne; Sp. ne in proper ne in. 191. cumune; Sp. common. sayne. gether; Sp. gather. 192. Sp. om. of. 193. great. 194. in proper ne comune; Sp. in proper be (!) in common. 195. father rych. put. 197. reason. perfite. 198. father. 199. imperfyte. sayne. Sp. the (for tho).

201. carte. done. 202. lesyngery; Sp. losengery. done. 204. preach. teach. 205. perfyte lyfe. 206. be; Sp. bin. 208. feastes. 209. done. rych. 211. together. 212. charitie. 214. Sp. om. 2nd he. 220. C. as; Sp. is (!) charytie. 221. Sp. accursed; C. cursede. C. om. last. dead. 222. Sp. om. lacke. least; Sp. last. 223. dead. C. om. therefore. 226. hedde. done. 227. heade. 229. receaue. 229, 231. hartes (twice). 231. Sp. om. ye. 232. exempte. 234. gyltye. traytery. trespasers. 235. Sp. your (for oure). Sp. the trespasse (for trespas). 236. done.

240. eche yeare; Sp. ech a yere. 241. her (twice). 242. steale. certayne. sayne. 247. merite. 248. whyther; Sp. whether. payde; Sp. apayed. 249. weten; Sp. witten. 251. meryte. heauen. 252. man (for mans, s having dropped out); Sp. mans. 253. ye (for he); Sp. he. 256. folowes; Sp. fellowes. maye. 258. tokeneth; Sp. betokeneth. 259. one. made. 260. seale. mought (read mot). 261. redde; Sp. rad. Sp. And but. 262. Sp. om. 1st not. specyally; Sp. especially. made. 264. commne (!). goostely; Sp. ghostly. 266. myghtie. coloure. preachynge. prayeng. 267. write. 268. done frely. 269. frely. 271. him; Sp. hem.

272. her. 273-275. apostatase; Sp. apostataes. 278. personnes. 280. him; Sp. them. 282. foule. greate. 283. done. 284. measure. payd; Sp. apaied. 285. preache. 286. Sp. whole. Sp. om. 2nd it. 287. deal; Sp. dele. 289. let. Sp. and so the (om. so). 290. measure. 293. wryte. 295. pouertye. done. 297. treasoure. 298. rych. 299. wordly; Sp. worldly. bring her. 300. costely. abake; Sp. abacke. 301. gather (read gader). 302. wryte. put. emprysonne. 303. let. him; Sp. hem. 304. preache. frely. wordely; Sp. worldly.

306. let. 308. fayn. 309. bodely. 309, 311. abyte; Sp. habit. 311. leaueth. 311, 315. maye. 312. Sp. om. an. sayne. 315. parte. 316. home. by yeare; Sp. by the yeare. 317. courtes &; Sp. countries (perhaps better). 318. C. Sp. hold (for holden). 320. Both prease. 323. seale. beare. 324. parte. preachynges. 325. done. 326. dead. 329. receaue. 330. certaine. 331. no; Sp. to (!). 332. rych. reche; Sp. retch. 334. behesten; Sp. behoten. reason; Sp. all reason. 337. laydes (for ladyes). her. 338. pyl her. 339. dwel. 340. greate.

341. coloure. 344. mooste perfytely. 345. wyseste. 346. greatest clarkes. 347. made. 348. chappelaynes. povertye. 351. one. 354. hol (for holy); Sp. holy. holde; Sp. hold (read holdeth). them. 357. set. 358. sayne. 359. shew. 360. C. that Fraunces rule was made so harde; Sp. that your rule that Francis made was so hard. C. might; Sp. mow. 363. harde. maye. Supply it. 364. toke. 365. learned. 366. Sp. om. to. C. byddeth; Sp. bit. Sp. when; C. om. 369. fayne. 370. thyne. 371. none. thyne. 372, 374. thre. 373. C. selfe; Sp. self same. 375. one.

376. alone. one. 378. thre. one. 381. Both you; read ye. 382. thine. 384. apostate; Sp. apostata. leaue. 385. the. 388. sonne. 390. Both you; read ye. wysdome. 391. father vncunyng. Sp. om. eyther. 392, 397. coulde (twice). 393. Sp. had he. 395. perfyte. 397. made. perfyte. 398. defate; Sp. default. sonne. 401. weren. 402. put. 404. C. that saynt; Sp. which saint. the perfytest; Sp. perfectest. 405. Sp. om. than. 406. the (read thee). 408. Sp. any default or (!) assigne. 409. sekerly; Sp. sikerly. 410. her. harde.

415. easye. 416. mor; Sp. more. 418. that; Sp. of (!). 420, 421. heauen (twice). 421. Christe. 424. frayen (for frayne); Sp. fraine. 425. C. ye in; Sp. ye you in (read you in). 426. sayde. Read—And whan ye han soiled that I saide, sadly in treuthe. 427. soyll the. thyne. order; Sp. orders. the; Sp. thee. heauen. 428. C. cunne; Sp. kun. 430. her. 431. her. fordone. 432. hem lyue; Sp. hir live. 433. wryte. 434. bread leste. 435. made. Sp. om. Finis.

O noble worthy king, Henry the ferthe,

In whom the gladde fortune is befalle

The people to governe here upon erthe,

God hath thee chose, in comfort of us alle;

The worship of this land, which was doun falle,

Now stant upright, through grace of thy goodnesse,

Which every man is holde for to blesse.

The highe god, of his justyce alone,

The right which longeth to thy regalye

Declared hath to stande in thy persone;

And more than god may no man justifye.

Thy title is knowe upon thyn auncestrye;

The londes folk hath eek thy right affermed;

So stant thy regne, of god and man confermed.

Ther is no man may saye in other wyse

That god him-self ne hath the right declared;

Wherof the land is boun to thy servyse,

Which for defaute of helpe hath longe cared.

But now ther is no mannes herte spared

To love and serve, and worche thy plesaunce;

And al this is through goddes purveyaunce.

[206]

In alle thing which is of god begonne

Ther foloweth grace, if it be wel governed;

Thus tellen they whiche olde bokes conne,

Wherof, my lord, I wot wel thou art lerned.

Aske of thy god; so shalt thou nat be werned

Of no request [the] whiche is resonable;

For god unto the goode is favorable.

King Salomon, which hadde at his askinge

Of god, what thing him was levest to crave,

He chees wysdom unto the governinge

Of goddes folk, the whiche he wolde save;

And as he chees, it fil him for to have;

For through his wit, whyl that his regne laste,

He gat him pees and reste, unto the laste.

But Alisaundre, as telleth his historie,

Unto the god besoughte in other weye,

Of al the worlde to winne the victorie,

So that under his swerde it might[e] obeye;

In werre he hadde al that he wolde preye.

The mighty god behight[e] him that behest;

The world he wan, and hadde it of conquest.

But though it fil at thilke tyme so,

That Alisaundre his asking hath acheved,

This sinful world was al[le] payën tho;

Was noon whiche hath the highe god beleved;

No wonder was, though thilke world was greved.

Though a tyraunt his purpos mighte winne,

Al was vengeaunce, and infortune of sinne.

But now the faith of Crist is come a-place

Among the princes in this erthe here,

It sit hem wel to do pitè and grace,

But yet it mot be tempred in manere.

For as they fynden cause in the matere

[207]

Upon the poynt, what afterward betyde,

The lawe of right shal nat be layd a-syde.

So may a king of werre the viage

Ordayne and take, as he therto is holde,

To clayme and aske his rightful heritage

In alle places wher it is with-holde.

But other-wyse, if god him-selve wolde

Afferme love and pees bitween the kinges,

Pees is the beste, above alle erthly thinges.

Good is t'eschewe werre, and nathelees

A king may make werre upon his right;

For of bataile the fynal ende is pees;

Thus stant the lawe, that a worthy knight

Upon his trouthe may go to the fight.

But-if so were that he mighte chese,

Betre is the pees of which may no man lese.

To stere pees oughte every man on-lyve,

First, for to sette his liege lord in reste,

And eek these othre men, that they ne stryve;

For so this land may standen atte beste.

What king that wolde be the worthieste,

The more he mighte our deedly werre cese,

The more he shulde his worthinesse encrese.

Pees is the cheef of al the worldes welthe,

And to the heven it ledeth eek the way;

Pees is of soule and lyfe the mannes helthe

Of pestilence, and doth the werre away.

My liege lord, tak hede of that I say,

If werre may be left, tak pees on honde,

Which may nat be withoute goddes sonde.

With pees stant every crëature in reste,

Withoute pees ther may no lyf be glad;

Above al other good, pees is the beste;

Pees hath him-self, whan werre is al bestad;

The pees is sauf, the werre is ever adrad.

[208]

Pees is of al[le] charitè the keye,

Whiche hath the lyf and soule for to weye.

My liege lord, if that thee list to seche

The sothe ensamples, what the werre hath wrought,

Thou shalt wel here, of wyse mennes speche,

That deedly werre tourneth in-to nought.

For if these olde bokes be wel sought,

Ther might thou see what thing the werre hath do

Bothe of conquest and conquerour also.

For vayne honóur, or for the worldes good,

100

They that whylom the stronge werres made,

Wher be they now? Bethink wel, in thy mood,

The day is goon, the night is derke and fade;

Hir crueltè, which made hem thanne glade,

They sorowen now, and yet have naught the more;

105

The blood is shad, which no man may restore.

The werre is moder of the wronges alle;

It sleeth the preest in holy chirche at masse,

Forlyth the mayde, and doth her flour to falle.

The werre maketh the grete citee lasse,

110

And doth the lawe his reules overpasse.

Ther is nothing, wherof mescheef may growe

Whiche is not caused of the werre, I trowe.

The werre bringth in póverte at his heles,

Wherof the comun people is sore greved;

115

The werre hath set his cart on thilke wheles

Wher that fortune may not be beleved.

For whan men wene best to have acheved,

Ful ofte it is al newe to beginne;

The werre hath nothing siker, thogh he winne.

120

For-thy, my worthy prince, in Cristes halve,

As for a part whos fayth thou hast to gyde,

Ley to this olde sore a newe salve,

And do the werre away, what-so betyde.

Purchace pees, and sette it by thy syde,

[209]

125

And suffre nat thy people be devoured;

So shal thy name ever after stande honóured!

If any man be now, or ever was

Ayein the pees thy prevy counsaylour,

Let god be of thy counsayl in this cas,

130

And put away the cruel werreyour.

For god, whiche is of man the creatour,

He wolde not men slowe his crëature

Withoute cause of deedly forfayture.

Wher nedeth most, behoveth most to loke;

135

My lord, how so thy werres be withoute,

Of tyme passed who that hede toke,

Good were at home to see right wel aboute;

For evermore the worste is for to doute.

But, if thou mightest parfit pees attayne,

140

Ther shulde be no cause for to playne.

Aboute a king, good counsayl is to preyse

Above al othre thinges most vailable;

But yet a king within him-self shal peyse

And seen the thinges that be resonable.

145

And ther-upon he shal his wittes stable

Among the men to sette pees in evene,

For love of him whiche is the king of hevene.

A! wel is him that shedde never blood

But-if it were in cause of rightwysnesse!

150

For if a king the peril understood

What is to slee the people, thanne, I gesse,

The deedly werres and the hevinesse

Wher-of the pees distourbed is ful ofte,

Shulde at som tyme cesse and wexe softe.

155

O king! fulfilled of grace and of knighthode,

Remembre upon this poynt, for Cristes sake;

If pees be profred unto thy manhode,

Thyn honour sauf, let it nat be forsake!

Though thou the werres darst wel undertake,

[210]

160

After resoun yet temper thy corage;

For lyk to pees ther is non avauntage.

My worthy lord, thenk wel, how-so befalle

Of thilke lore, as holy bokes sayn;

Crist is the heed, and we be membres alle,

165

As wel the subject as the soverayn.

So sit it wel, that charitè be playn,

Whiche unto god him-selve most accordeth,

So as the lore of Cristes word recordeth.

In th'olde lawe, or Crist him-self was bore,

170

Among the ten comaundëments, I rede,

How that manslaughter shulde be forbore;

Such was the wil, that tyme, of the godhede.

But afterward, whan Crist took his manhede,

Pees was the firste thing he leet do crye

175

Ayenst the worldes rancour and envye.

And, or Crist wente out of this erthe here,

And stigh to heven, he made his testament,

Wher he bequath to his disciples there

And yaf his pees, which is the foundement

180

Of charitè, withouten whos assent

The worldes pees may never wel be tryed,

Ne lovë kept, ne lawë justifyed.

The Jewes with the payens hadden werre,

But they among hem-self stode ever in pees;

185

Why shulde than our pees stonde out of herre,

Which Crist hath chose unto his owne encrees?

For Crist is more than was Moÿses;

And Crist hath set the parfit of the lawe,

The whiche shulde in no wyse be withdrawe.

190

To yeve us pees was causë why Crist dyde,

Withoute pees may nothing stonde avayled;

But now a man may see on every syde

How Cristes fayth is every day assayled,

With the payens distroyed, and so batayled

[211]

195

That, for defaute of helpe and of defence,

Unneth hath Crist his dewe reverence.

The righte fayth to kepe of holy chirche

The firste poynt is named of knighthode;

And every man is holde for to wirche

200

Upon the poynt that stant to his manhode.

But now, alas! the fame is spred so brode

That every man this thing [alday] complayneth;

And yet is ther no man that help ordayneth.

The worldes cause is wayted over-al;

205

Ther be the werres redy, to the fulle;

But Cristes owne cause in special,

Ther ben the swerdes and the speres dulle.

And with the sentence of the popes bulle

As for to doon the folk payën obeye,

210

The chirche is tourned al another weye.

It is wonder, above any mannes wit,

Withoute werre how Cristes fayth was wonne;

And we that been upon this erthë yit

Ne kepe it nat as it was first begonne.

215

To every crëature under the sonne

Crist bad him-self, how that we shulde preche,

And to the folke his evangely teche.

More light it is to kepe than to make;

But that we founden mad to-fore the hond

220

We kepe nat, but lete it lightly slake;

The pees of Crist hath al to-broke his bond.

We reste our-self, and suffren every lond

To slee eche other as thing undefended;

So stant the werre, and pees is nat amended.

225

But though the heed of holy chirche above

Ne do nat al his hole businesse

Among the men to sette pees and love,

These kinges oughten, of hir rightwysnesse,

Hir owne cause among hem-self redresse.

[212]

230

Thogh Peters ship, as now, hath lost his stere,

It lyth in hem that barge for to stere.

If holy chirche after the dewetè

Of Cristes word ne be nat al avysed

To make pees, accord, and unitè

235

Among the kinges that be now devysed,

Yet, natheles, the lawë stant assysed

Of mannes wit, to be so resonable

Withoute that to stande hem-selve stable.

Of holy chirche we ben children alle,

240

And every child is holde for to bowe

Unto the moder, how that ever it falle,

Or elles he mot reson disalowe.

And, for that cause, a knight shal first avowe

The right of holy chirche to defende,

245

That no man shal the privilege offende.

Thus were it good to setten al in evene

The worldes princes and the prelats bothe,

For love of him whiche is the king of hevene;

And if men shulde algate wexen wrothe,

250

The Sarazins, whiche unto Crist ben lothe,

Let men be armed ayenst hem to fighte,

So may the knight his dede of armes righte.

Upon three poynts stant Cristes pees oppressed;

First, holy chirche is in her-self devyded;

255

Which oughte, of reson, first to be redressed;

But yet so high a cause is nat decyded.

And thus, whan humble pacience is pryded,

The remenaunt, which that they shulde reule,

No wonder is, though it stande out of reule.

260

Of that the heed is syk, the limmes aken;

These regnes, that to Cristes pees belongen,

For worldes good, these deedly werres maken,

Which helpelees, as in balaunce, hongen.

The heed above hem hath nat underfongen

[213]

265

To sette pees, but every man sleeth other;

And in this wyse hath charitè no brother.

The two defautes bringen in the thridde

Of miscreants, that seen how we debate;

Between the two, they fallen in a-midde

270

Wher now al-day they fynde an open gate.

Lo! thus the deedly werre stant al-gate.

But ever I hopë of king Henries grace,

That he it is which shal the pees embrace.

My worthy noble prince, and king anoynt,

275

Whom god hath, of his grace, so preserved,

Behold and see the world upon this poynt,

As for thy part, that Cristes pees be served.

So shal thy highe mede be reserved

To him, whiche al shal quyten atte laste;

280

For this lyf herë may no whyle laste.

See Alisandre, Hector, and Julius,

See Machabeus, David, and Josuë,

See Charlemayne, Godfray, and Arthus

Fulfild of werre and of mortalitee!

285

Hir fame abit, but al is vanitee;

For deth, whiche hath the werres under fote,

Hath mad an ende, of which ther is no bote.

So may a man the sothe wite and knowe,

That pees is good for every king to have;

290

The fortune of the werre is ever unknowe,

But wher pees is, ther ben the marches save.

That now is up, to-morwe is under grave.

The mighty god hath alle grace in honde;

Withouten him, men may nat longe stonde.

295

Of the tenetz to winne or lese a chace

May no lyf wite, or that the bal be ronne;

Al stant in god, what thing men shal purchace:

Th'ende is in him, or that it be begonne;

Men sayn, the wolle, whan it is wel sponne,

[214]

300

Doth that the cloth is strong and profitable,

And elles it may never be durable.

The worldes chaunces upon aventure

Ben ever set; but thilke chaunce of pees

Is so behovely to the crëature

305

That it above al other is peerlees.

But it may nat †be gete, nathelees,

Among the men to lasten any whyle,

But wher the herte is playn, withoute gyle.

The pees is as it were a sacrament

310

To-fore the god, and shal with wordes playne

Withouten any double entendëment

Be treted; for the trouthe can nat feyne.

But if the men within hem-self be vayne,

The substaunce of the pees may nat be trewe,

315

But every day it chaungeth upon newe.

But who that is of charitè parfyte,

He voydeth alle sleightes fer aweye,

And set his word upon the same plyte

Wher that his herte hath founde a siker weye;

320

And thus, whan conscience is trewly weye,

And that the pees be handled with the wyse,

It shal abyde and stande, in alle wyse.

Th'apostel sayth, ther may no lyf be good

Whiche is nat grounded upon charitè;

325

For charitè ne shedde never blood.

So hath the werre, as ther, no propertè;

For thilke vertue which is sayd 'pitè'

With charitè so ferforth is acquaynted

That in her may no fals sembla[u]nt be paynted.

330

Cassodore, whos wryting is authorysed

Sayth: 'wher that pitè regneth, ther is grace';

Through which the pees hath al his welthe assysed,

So that of werre he dredeth no manace.

Wher pitè dwelleth, in the same place

[215]

335

Ther may no deedly crueltè sojourne

Wherof that mercy shulde his wey[e] tourne.

To see what pitè, forth with mercy, doth,

The cronique is at Rome, in thilke empyre

Of Constantyn, which is a tale soth,

340

Whan him was lever his owne deth desyre

Than do the yonge children to martyre.

Of crueltee he lefte the quarele;

Pitè he wroughte, and pitè was his hele.

For thilke mannes pitè which he dede

345

God was pitous, and made him hool at al;

Silvester cam, and in the same stede

Yaf him baptyme first in special,

Which dide away the sinne original,

And al his lepre it hath so purifyed,

350

That his pitè for ever is magnifyed.

Pitè was cause why this emperour

Was hool in body and in soule bothe;

And Rome also was set in thilke honour

Of Cristes fayth, so that the leve, of lothe

355

Whiche hadden be with Crist tofore wrothe,

Receyved werë unto Cristes lore.

Thus shal pitè be praysed evermore.

My worthy liege lord, Henry by name,

Which Engëlond hast to governe and righte,

360

Men oughten wel thy pitè to proclame,

Which openliche, in al the worldes sighte,

Is shewed, with the helpe of god almighte,

To yeve us pees, which long hath be debated,

Wherof thy prys shal never be abated.

365

My lord, in whom hath ever yet be founde

Pitè, withoute spotte of violence,

Keep thilke pees alway, withinne bounde,

Which god hath planted in thy conscience.

So shal the cronique of thy pacience

370

Among the saynts be take in-to memórie

To the loënge of perdurable glorie.

[216]

And to thyn erthely prys, so as I can,

Whiche every man is holde to commende,

I Gower, which am al thy liege man,

375

This lettre unto thyn excellence I sende,

As I, whiche ever unto my lyves ende

Wol praye for the stat of thy persone,

In worshipe of thy sceptre and of thy trone.

Nat only to my king of pees I wryte,

380

But to these othre princes Cristen alle,

That eche of hem his owne herte endyte

And cese the werre, or more mescheef falle.

Set eek the rightful pope upon his stalle;

Keep charitè, and draw pitè to honde,

385

Maynteyne lawe; and so the pees shal stonde.

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

Electus Christi,pie rex Henrice, fuisti,

Qui bene venisti,cum propria regna petisti;

Tu mala vicisti-que bonis bona restituisti,

Et populo tristinova gaudia contribuisti.

390

Est mihi spes lata,quod adhuc per te renovata

Succedent fataveteri probitate beata;

Est tibi nam gratagratia sponte data.

Henrici quarti primus regni fuit annus

Quo mihi defecit visus ad acta mea.

395

Omnia tempus habent, finem natura ministrat,

Quem virtute sua frangere nemo potest.

Ultra posse nihil, quamvis mihi velle remansit,

Amplius ut scribam non mihi posse manet.

Dum potui, scripsi, sed nunc quia curua senectus

400

Turbauit sensus, scripta relinquo scolis.

Scribat qui veniet post me discretior alter,

Ammodo namque manus et mea penna silent.

Hoc tamen in fine verborum queso meorum,

Prospera quod statuat regna futura deus.

¶ Explicit.

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

1. T. worthi noble. 3. T. om. here. 4. Both the. T. chose; Th. chosen. 9. T. regalie; Th. regaly. 11. T. iustifie; Th. iustify. 12. T. ancestrie; Th. auncestry. 17. T. boun; Th. bounde. 20. T. wirche.

26. T. Axe; Th. Aske. 27. T. reqwest; Th. request. (Perhaps read—Of no request the whiche is resonable.) 29. T. axinge; Th. askyng. 30. Th. om. to. 31. T. ches; Th. chase. Th. om. the. 33. T. ches; Th. chase. 35. T. gat; Th. gate. T. pes; Th. peace. So T.; Th. in-to his last. 36. T. histoire; Th. storie. 39. T. might; Th. myght. 41. Both behight. T. beheste. 42. Th. om. he. Both had. T. conqweste. 44. T. axinge. T. achieued; Th. atcheued. 45. Both al. T. paiene; Th. paynem. 46. T. belieued. 47. T. grieued. 48. T. mihte; Th. might. 50. T. feith; Th. faithe. 53. T. mot; Th. must. 54. Th. om. as.

56. T. leid; Th. layde. 57. T. viage: Th. voyage. 59. T. axe. 61. T. silve; Th. selfe. 62, 63. T. pes; Th. peace. 70. T. Betre; Th. Better. 71. Both peace. T. euery man; Th. eueriche. T. alyue. 74. Th. lande; T. world. 76. T. cesse; Th. cease. 77. T. encresse; Th. encrease. 78. T. chief; Th. chefe. 79, 81, 82. T. weie, aweie, seie. 83. Both lefte.

90. Both al. 92. Both the. 93. T. that; Th. what. 96. T. soght; Th. ysought. 97. Both se. 98. T. conqueste. 101. T. bethenk. 102. Both gone. 103. Both Her. 108. T. om. doth; Th. dothe. 110. Both dothe. T. reules; Th. rules. 111. T. meschef; Th. myschefe. 113. T. bringth; Th. bringeth. 114. T. comon; Th. commen. 121. T. to; Th. be.

129. T. Lete; Th. Lette. 130. Th. crewel warryour. 132. Th. slough. 136. T. than; Th. that. 137. Both se. 146. T. euene; Th. euyn. 147. T. heuene; Th. heuyn. 148. T. Ha. 153. Th. om. the. 155. Th. om. 2nd of.

160. T. reson; Th. reason. 162. T. thenke; Th. thynke. 165. T. the subiit; Th. be subiecte. 169. T. er. 173. T. aftirwards; Th. afterwarde. 174. T. let; Th. lette. 176. T. er. 177. Th. styghed. 183. T. paiens; Th. paynyms. 185. Th. erre (!). 192. T. sen; Th. se. 194. Th. paynems. T. destruied.

200. Th. that; T. which. 201. T. helas; T. sprad. 202. I supply alday. 203. Th. that; T. which. 209. T. do; Th. done. T. paien; Th. payne (for payen). 211. T. to wonder; Th. wonder. For any read a? 216. Th. om. how. 217. T. euangile. 219. Both made. Th. om. the. 222. Th. selfe; T. selue. 227. T. men; Th. people.

231. Th. the (for that). 232. Th. dewte; T. duete. 238. T. hem-selue; Th. him-selfe. 242. Th. must. 246. T. om. good. T. euene; Th. euyn. 248. T. heuene; Th. heuyn. 253. Both thre. 254. Th. om. is. 256. Both highe. 260. T. sick; Th. sicke. 263. Th. helplesse; T. heliples.

269. Both Betwene. 274. T. enoignt. 276. Both Beholde; se. 278. Th. deserved (!). 280. Both lyfe. 281. T. Ector. 282. T. Machabeu. 283. T. Godefroi Arthus. 287. Both made. 288. T. mai; Th. many (!). 289. T. man (for king). 291. Th. is (for ben). 292. T. om. up. 295. T. tenetz; Th. tennes. 296, 298. T. er (for or).

305. Th. is (for it). Th. om. is. T. piereles; Th. peerles. 306. Both begete; read be gete. 316. T. perfit. 318. T. plit. 321. Th. these (for the pees). Th. ben. 326. T. proprite. 329. Both semblant. 330. T. Cassodre. Both writinge. T. auctorized. 331. Th. om. ther.

336. T. wei; Th. way. 337. Both se. 342. T. crualte; Th. creweltie. 347. T. baptisme. 359. Th. England. 370. T. seintz; Th. sayntes. T. memoire; Th. memory. 371. T. loenge; Th. legende (!). T. gloire; Th. glory.

378. Th. om. 2nd of. Both throne. 382. T. sese (for cese); Th. se (!). T. er (for or). T. meschiefe; Th. myschefe. 383. Both Sette. 384. T. draugh. 385. T. Maintene; Th. Maynteyn. 399. Th. curua; T. torua.

Cupido, unto whos comaundëment

The gentil kinrede of goddes on hy

And people infernal been obedient,

And mortel folk al serven besily,

The goddesse sonë Cithera soothly,

To alle tho that to our deitee

Ben sugets, hertly greting sende we!

In general, we wolë that ye knowe

That ladies of honour and reverence,

And other gentil women, haven sowe

Such seed of compleynt in our audience

Of men that doon hem outrage and offence,

That it our eres greveth for to here;

So pitous is th'effect of this matere.

Passing al londes, on the litel yle

That cleped is Albion they most compleyne;

They seyn, that there is croppe and rote of gyle.

So conne tho men dissimulen and feyne

With stonding dropes in hir eyen tweyne,

[218]

When that hir hertes feleth no distresse,

To blinden women with hir doublenesse.

Hir wordes spoken ben so syghingly,

With so pitousë chere and contenaunce,

That every wight that meneth trewely

Demeth that they in herte have such grevaunce;

They seyn so importáble is hir penaunce

That, but hir lady lust to shewe hem grace,

They right anoon †mot sterven in the place.

'A, lady myn!' they seyn, 'I yow ensure,

As doth me grace, and I shal ever be,

Whyl that my lyf may lasten and endure,

To yow as humble and lowe in ech degree

As possible is, and kepe al thing secree

Right as your-selven liste that I do;

And elles moot myn herte breste a-two.'

Ful hard it is to knowe a mannes herte;

For outward may no man the trouthe deme;

When word out of his mouthe may noon asterte

But it by reson any wight shuld queme,

So is it seyd of herte, as hit wolde seme.

O feythful woman, ful of innocence,

Thou art deceyved by fals apparence!

By proces women, meved of pitee,

Wening that al thing were as thise men sey,

They graunte hem grace of hir benignitee

For that men shulde nat for hir sake dey;

And with good herte sette hem in the wey

Of blisful lovë—kepe it if they conne;

Thus other-whylë women beth y-wonne.

[219]

And whan this man the pot hath by the stele,

And fully is in his possessioun,

With that woman he kepeth not to dele,

After if he may fynden in the toun

Any woman, his blinde affeccioun

On to bestowë; evel mote he preve!

A man, for al his othes, is hard to leve!

And, for that every fals man hath a make,

(As un-to every wight is light to knowe),

Whan this traitour this woman hath forsake,

He faste him spedeth un-to his felowe;

Til he be there, his herte is on a lowe;

His fals deceyt ne may him not suffyse,

But of his treson telleth al the wyse.

Is this a fair avaunt? is this honour,

A man him-self accuse thus, and diffame?

Now is it good, confesse him a traitour,

And bringe a woman to a sclandrous name,

And telle how he her body hath do shame?

No worship may he thus to him conquere,

But greet esclaundre un-to him and here!

To herë? Nay, yet was it no repreef;

For al for vertu was it that she wroughte;

But he that brewed hath al this mischeef,

That spak so faire, and falsly inward thoughte,

His be the sclaundre, as it by reson oughte,

And un-to her a thank perpetuel,

That in a nede helpe can so wel!

Althogh of men, through sleyght and sotiltee,

A sely, simple, and innocent woman

Betrayed is, no wonder, sith the citee

[220]

Of Troye—as that the storie telle can—

Betrayed was, through the disceyt of man,

And set on fyre, and al doun over-throwe,

And finally destroyed, as men knowe.

Betrayen men not citees grete, and kinges?

What wight is that can shape remedye

Ageynes thise falsly purpósed thinges?

Who can the craft such craftes to espye

But man, whos wit ay redy is t'aplye

To thing that souneth in-to hy falshede?

Women, beth ware of mennes sleight, I rede!

And furthermore han thise men in usage

That, where as they not lykly been to spede,

Suche as they been with a double visage

They prócuren, for to pursewe hir nede;

He prayeth him in his causë to procede,

And largely guerdoneth he his travayle;

Smal witen wommen how men hem assayle!

Another wrecche un-to his felowe seyth:

100

'Thou fisshest faire! She that thee hath fyred

Is fals and inconstaunt, and hath no feyth.

She for the rode of folke is so desyred

And, as an hors, fro day to day is hyred

That, when thou twinnest fro hir companye,

105

Another comth, and blered is thyn eyë!

'Now prikke on fastë, and ryd thy journey

Whyl thou art there; for she, behind thy bak,

So liberal is, she wol no wight with-sey,

But smertly of another take a snak;

110

For thus thise wommen faren, al the pak!

Who-so hem trusteth, hanged mote he be!

Ay they desyren chaunge and noveltee!'

[221]

Wher-of procedeth this but of envye?

For he him-selve her ne winne may,

115

He speketh her repreef and vileinye,

As mannes blabbing tonge is wont alway.

Thus dyvers men ful often make assay

For to distourben folk in sondry wyse,

For they may not acheven hir empryse.

120

Ful many a man eek wolde, for no good,

(That hath in love his tyme spent and used)

Men wiste, his lady his axing withstood,

And that he were of her pleynly refused,

Or wast and veyn were al that he had mused;

125

Wherfore he can no better remedye

But on his lady shapeth him to lye:

'Every womman,' he seyth, 'is light to gete;

Can noon sey "nay," if she be wel y-soght.

Who-so may leyser han, with her to trete,

130

Of his purpós ne shal he faile noght,

But he on madding be so depe y-broght

That he shende al with open hoomlinesse;

That loven wommen nat, as that I gesse!'

To sclaundre wommen thus, what may profyte

135

To gentils namely, that hem armen sholde,

And in defence of wommen hem delyte

As that the ordre of gentilesse wolde?

If that a man list gentil to be holde,

He moot flee al that ther-to is contrarie;

140

A sclaundring tonge is his grete adversarie.

A foul vice is of tonge to be light;

For who-so michel clappeth, gabbeth ofte.

The tonge of man so swift is and so wight

That, whan it is areysed up-on lofte,

[222]

145

Resoun it seweth so slowly and softe,

That it him never over-take may:

Lord! so thise men ben trusty in assay!

Al-be-it that man fynde oo woman nyce,

Inconstant, rechelees, or variable,

150

Deynouse or proud, fulfilled of malyce,

Withouten feyth or love, and deceyvable,

Sly, queynt, and fals, in al unthrift coupable,

Wikked and feers, and ful of crueltee.

It foloweth nat that swiche al wommen be.

155

Whan that the high god aungels formed had,

Among hem alle whether ther werë noon

That founden was malicious and bad?

Yis! al men woot that ther was many oon

That, for hir pryde, fil from heven anoon.

160

Shul men therfore alle aungels proude name?

Nay! he that that susteneth is to blame.

Of twelve apostels oon a traitour was;

The remënant yit godë were and trewe.

Than, if it happe men fyndë, per cas,

165

Oo womman fals, swich good is for t'eschewe,

And deme nat that they ben alle untrewe.

I see wel mennes owne falsenesse

Hem causeth wommen for to trusten lesse.

O! every man oghte have an herte tendre

170

Unto womman, and deme her honurable,

Whether his shap be outher thikke or slendre,

Or be he bad or good; this is no fable.

Every man woot, that wit hath resonable,

That of a womman he descended is:

175

Than is it shame, of her to speke amis.

[223]

A wikked tree good fruit may noon forth bring,

For swich the fruit is, as that is the tree.

Tak hede of whom thou took thy biginning;

Lat thy moder be mirour unto thee.

180

Honoure her, if thou wolt honoured be!

Dispyse thou her nat, in no manere,

Lest that ther-by thy wikkednesse appere!

An old provérbë seyd is in English:

Men seyn, 'that brid or foul is dishonest,

185

What that he be, and holden ful churlish,

That useth to defoule his owne nest.'

Men, to sey wel of wommen it is best,

And nat for to despyse hem ne deprave,

If that they wole hir honour kepe and save.

190

Thise ladies eek compleynen hem on clerkes

That they han maad bokës of hir diffame,

In which they lakken wommen and hir werkes

And speken of hem greet repreef and shame,

And causëlees yive hem a wikked name.

195

Thus they despysed been on every syde,

And sclaundred, and bilowen on ful wyde.

The sory bokes maken mencioun

How they betrayden, in especial,

Adam, David, Sampsoun, and Salamoun,

200

And many oon mo; who may rehersen al

The treson that they havë doon, and shal?

The world hir malice may not comprehende;

As that thise clerkes seyn, it hath non ende.

Ovyde, in his boke called 'Remedye

205

Of Lovë,' greet repreef of wommen wryteth;

Wherin, I trowe, he dide greet folye,

And every wight that in such cas delyteth.

[224]

A clerkes custom is, whan he endyteth

Of wommen, be it prose, or ryme, or vers,

210

Sey they ben wikke, al knowe he the revers.

And that book scolers lerne in hir childhede,

For they of wommen be war sholde in age,

And for to love hem ever been in drede,

Sin to deceyve is set al hir corage.

215

They seyn, peril to caste is avantage,

And namely, suche as men han in be wrapped;

For many a man by woman hath mishapped.

No charge is, what-so that thise clerkes seyn;

Of al hir wrong wryting I do no cure;

220

Al hir travayle and labour is in veyn.

For, betwex me and my lady Nature,

Shal nat be suffred, whyl the world may dure,

Thise clerkes, by hir cruel tyrannye,

Thus upon wommen kythen hir maistrye.

225

Whylom ful many of hem were in my cheyne

Y-tyed, and now, what for unweldy age

And for unlust, may not to love atteyne,

And seyn, that love is but verray dotage.

Thus, for that they hem-self lakken corage,

230

They folk excyten, by hir wikked sawes,

For to rebelle agayn me and my lawes.

But, maugre hem that blamen wommen most,

Suche is the force of myn impressioun,

That sodeinly I felle can hir bost

235

And al hir wrong imaginacioun.

It shal not been in hir eleccioun

The foulest slutte of al a toun refuse,

If that me list, for al that they can muse;

[225]

But her in herte as brenningly desyre

240

As thogh she were a duchesse or a quene;

So can I folkes hertes sette on fyre,

And (as me list) hem sende joye or tene.

They that to wommen been y-whet so kene

My sharpe persing strokes, how they smyte,

245

Shul fele and knowe; and how they kerve and byte.

Perdee, this grete clerk, this sotil Ovyde

And many another han deceyved be

Of wommen, as it knowen is ful wyde;

Wot no man more; and that is greet deyntee,

250

So excellent a clerk as that was he,

And other mo that coude so wel preche

Betrapped were, for aught they coude teche.

And trusteth wel, that it is no mervayle;

For wommen knewen pleynly hir entente.

255

They wiste how sotilly they coude assayle

Hem, and what falshood they in herte mente;

And thise clerkes they in hir daunger hente.

With oo venym another was distroyed;

And thus thise clerkes often were anoyed.

260

Thise ladies ne thise gentils, nevertheles,

Were noon of tho that wroughten in this wyse;

But swiche filthes as were vertules

They quitten thus thise olde clerkes wyse.

To clerkes forthy lesse may suffyse

265

Than to deprave wommen generally;

For worship shul they gete noon therby.

If that thise men, that lovers hem pretende,

To wommen weren feythful, gode, and trewe,

And dredde hem to deceyven or offende,

[226]

270

Wommen to love hem wolde nat eschewe.

But every day hath man an herte newe;

It upon oon abyde can no whyle.

What fors is it, swich a wight to begyle?

Men beren eek thise wommen upon honde

275

That lightly, and withouten any peyne,

They wonne been; they can no wight withstonde

That his disese list to hem compleyne.

They been so freel, they mowe hem nat refreyne;

But who-so lyketh may hem lightly have;

280

So been hir hertes esy in to grave.

To maister Iohn de Meun, as I suppose,

Than it was a lewd occupacioun

In making of the Romance of the Rose;

So many a sly imaginacioun

285

And perils for to rollen up and doun,

So long proces, so many a sly cautele

For to deceyve a sely damosele!

Nat can I seen, ne my wit comprehende

That art and peyne and sotiltee sholde fayle

290

For to conquére, and sone make an ende,

Whan man a feble place shal assayle;

And sone also to venquisshe a batayle

Of which no wight dar maken resistence,

Ne herte hath noon to stonden at defence.

295

Than moot it folwen of necessitee,

Sin art asketh so greet engyn and peyne

A womman to disceyve, what she be,

Of constauncë they been not so bareyne

As that somme of thise sotil clerkes feyne;

300

But they ben as that wommen oghten be,

Sad, constant, and fulfilled of pitee.

[227]

How frendly was Medea to Jasoun

In the conquéring of the flees of gold!

How falsly quitte he her affeccioun

305

By whom victórie he gat, as he hath wold!

How may this man, for shame, be so bold

To falsen her, that from his dethe and shame

Him kepte, and gat him so gret prys and name?

Of Troye also the traitour Eneas,

310

The feythles wrecche, how hath he him forswore

To Dido, that queen of Cartágë was,

That him releved of his smertes sore!

What gentilesse might she han doon more

Than she with herte unfeyned to him kidde?

315

And what mischeef to her ther-of betidde!

In my Legende of Martres men may fynde

(Who-so that lyketh therin for to rede)

That ooth noon ne behest may no man bynde;

Of reprevable shame han they no drede.

320

In mannes herte trouthe hath no stede;

The soil is noght, ther may no trouthe growe!

To womman namely it is nat unknowe.

Clerkes seyn also: 'ther is no malyce

Unto wommannes crabbed wikkednesse!'

325

O woman! How shalt thou thy-self chevyce,

Sin men of thee so muchel harm witnesse?

No fors! Do forth! Takë no hevinesse!

Kepë thyn ownë, what men clappe or crake;

And somme of hem shul smerte, I undertake!

330

Malyce of wommen, what is it to drede?

They slee no men, distroyen no citees;

They not oppressen folk ne overlede,

[228]

Betraye empyres, remes, ne duchees,

Ne men bereve hir landes ne hir mees,

335

Empoyson folk, ne houses sette on fyre,

Ne false contractes maken for non hyre!

Trust, perfit love, and entere charitee,

Fervent wil, and entalented corage

To thewes gode, as it sit wel to be,

340

Han wommen ay, of custome and usage;

And wel they can a mannes ire aswage

With softe wordes discreet and benigne;

What they be inward, sheweth outward signe.

Wommannes herte un-to no crueltee

345

Enclyned is, but they ben charitable,

Pitous, devout, fulle of humilitee,

Shamfaste, debonaire, and amiable,

Dredful, and of hir wordes mesurable:

What womman thise hath not, peraventure,

350

Ne folweth nat the wey of her nature.

Men seyn: 'our firste moder, natheles,

Made al man-kynde lese his libertee,

And naked it of joye, douteles;

For goddes hestes disobeyed she,

355

Whan she presumed tasten of a tree,

Which god forbad that she nat ete of sholde;

And, nad the devel been, namore she wolde.'

Th' envýous swelling that the feend, our fo,

Had unto man in herte, for his welthe,

360

Sente a serpent, and made her for to go

To disceyve Eve; and thus was mannes helthe

Beraft him by the fende, right in a stelthe,

The womman noght knowing of the deceyt;

God wot, ful fer was it from her conceyt.

[229]

365

Wherfore I sey, this godë womman Eve

Our fader Adam ne deceyved noght.

Ther may no man for a deceyt it preve

Proprely, but-if that she, in her thoght,

Had it compassed first, er it was wroght;

370

And, for swich was nat her impressioun,

Men calle it may no déceyt, by resoun.

No wight deceyveth but he it purpóse;

The feend this déceyt caste, and nothing she.

Than is it wrong to demen or suppose

375

That she sholde of this harm the cause be.

Wyteth the feend, and his be the maugree;

And for excused have her innocence,

Sauf only that she brak obedience.

And touching this, ful fewe men ther been,

380

Unnethes any, dar I saufly seye—

Fro day to day, as that men mow wel seen,

But that the hest of god they disobeye.

Have this in mynde, sires, I yow preye;

If that ye be discreet and resonable,

385

Ye wol her holde the more excusable.

And wher men seyn, 'in man is stedfastnesse,

And woman is of her corage unstable,'

Who may of Adam bere swich witnesse?

Telleth me this:—was he nat chaungeable?

390

They bothe weren in a caas semblable,

Sauf willingly the feend deceyved Eve,

And so did she nat Adam, by your leve.

Yet was this sinne happy to mankynde,

The feend deceyved was, for al his sleight;

395

For aught he coude him in his sleightes wynde,

[230]

God, to discharge mankynde of the weight

Of his trespas, cam doun from hevenes height,

And flesh and blood he took of a virgyne,

And suffred deeth, him to deliver of pyne.

400

And god, to whom ther may nothing hid be,

If he in woman knowe had such malyce

As men of hem recorde in generaltee,

Of our lady, of lyf reparatryce,

Nolde han be born; but, for that she of vyce

405

Was voyde, and of al vertu (wel he wiste)

Endowed, of her to be bore him liste.

Her heped vertu hath swich excellence

That al to lene is mannes facultee

To déclare it, and therfor in suspence

410

Her duë preysing put mot nedes be.

But this we witen verrayly, that she,

Next god, the best frend is that to man longeth;

The key of mercy by her girdil hongeth.

And of mercy hath every man swich nede

415

That, cessing that, farwel the joye of man!

Of her power now taketh right good hede;

She mercy may, wol, and purchace can.

Displese her nat, honoureth that womman,

And other wommen alle, for her sake!

420

And, but ye do, your sorowe shal awake.

Thou precious gemme, O martir Margarete,

Of thy blood draddest noon effusioun!

Thy martirdom ne may I nat foryete;

Thou, constant womman in thy passioun,

425

Overcoom the feendes temptacioun;

And many a wight converted thy doctryne

Unto the feith of god, holy virgyne!

[231]

But understondeth, I commende hir noght

By enchesoun of hir virginitee;

430

Trusteth right wel, it cam not in my thoght;

For ever I werrey ayein chastitee,

And ever shal; but this, lo! meveth me,

Her loving herte and constant to her lay

Dryve out of rémembrauncë I ne may.

435

In any boke also wher can ye fynde,

That of the werkes or the dethe or lyf

Of Jesu speketh, or maketh any mynde,

That womman him forsook, for wo or stryf?

Wher was ther any wight so ententyf

440

Abouten him as wommen? Pardee, noon!

Th'apostels him forsoken, everichoon.

Womman forsook him noght; for al the feyth

Of holy chirche in womman lefte only.

This is no lees, for holy writ thus seyth;

445

Loke, and ye shal so fynde it, hardely.

And therfore it may preved be therby,

That in womman regneth stable constaunce

And in men is the chaunge and variaunce!

Now holdeth this for ferme and for no lye,

450

That this trewe and just commendacioun

Of wommen is nat told for flaterye,

Ne to cause hem pryde or elacioun,

But only, lo! for this entencioun,

To yeve hem corage of perseveraunce

455

In vertu, and hir honour to enhaunce.

The more vertu, the lasse is the pryde;

Vertu so digne is, and so noble in kynde

That vyce and she wol not in-fere abyde.

[232]

She putteth vyce clene out of her mynde,

460

She fleeth from him, she leveth him behynde.

O womman, that of vertu art hostesse,

Greet is thyn honour and thy worthinesse!

Than wol we thus concluden and diffyne:

We yow comaunde, our ministres, echoon

465

That redy been to our hestes enclyne,

That of thise false men, our rebel foon,

Ye do punisshëment, and that anoon!

Voide hem our court and banish hem for ever

So that ther-inne they ne come never.

470

Fulfilled be it, cessing al delay;

Look that ther be non excusacioun.

Writen in th'ayr, the lusty month of May,

In our paleys (wher many a millioun

Of loveres trewe han habitacioun)

475

The yere of grace joyful and jocounde

A thousand and foure hundred and secounde.

From F (Fairfax); various readings from B (Bodley 638); T (Tanner 346); S (Arch. Selden B. 24); A (Ashburnham MS.); Tr. (Trin. Coll. Cam. R. 3. 20). Also in Th. (Thynne, ed. 1532); D (Digby 181); Ff (Camb. Univ. Library, Ff. 1. 6); and in the Bannatyne MS. 2. F. goddis an. 3. F. pepill. F. ben. 4. A. folk; F. folke. F. besely; A. bisyly. 5. F. Th. Of the; S. om. Of. S. Cithera; F. Sythera. S. sothly; F. oonly. 6. A. Tr. alle; F. al. 7. F. sugetes. 8. A. wole; F. wol. 10. F. wymen. A. han I-sowe. 11. F. Suche. 12. A. doon; F. do. 13. F. oure. 14. F. pitouse; effecte. 15. A. And passynge alle londes on this yle. 17. A. seyn; F. seye. 18. A. dissimulen; F. dyssimule. 19. A. Tr. S. Th. in; F. on. F. her.

20. A. herte. 20-22. F. her. 23. A. And with so pitous. S. Tr. pitouse a. 24. A. trewely; F. truly. 25. F. hert. A. han swich. 26. A. seyn; F. sey. F. her. 27. F. her. Tr. list. F. schew. 28. F. anoone. F. om. mot; S. Tr. most; Th. must (but read mot); cf. l. 35. 29. A. seyn; F. sey. F. yowe; Th. you. 31. F. While. F. lyfe. A. lasten; F. last. 33. F. Th. thing as; A.S. om. as. 34. F. youre. F. self; S. seluen. Th. lyste; F. lyst; A. lykith. 35. A. moot myn herte; F. myn hert mote. A. breste; F. brest. 36. F. herd. Th. knowe a mannes; F. know a manys. A. herte; F. hert. 37. F. outwarde. 38. S. word; F. worde. F. non astert. 39. So S. Tr.; A. sholde any wight by reson; F. Th. by reson semed euery wight to queme. 40. F. seyde; Th. sayd. F. hert; Th. herte. 41. F. om. of. 42. F. arte. F. be; Th. by. 43. F. processe. A. Tr. S. wommen meeued of; F. moveth oft woman. 44. S. that; rest om. 46. F. her. 47. F. hert set. 48. F. blesful. A.S. they; F. ye. 49. F. And thus; A.S. Tr. om. And.

50. A.S. pot; Th. pan; F. penne. 52. A. he keepith; F. kepeth he. S. not; A. nat; F. no more. 53. A. fynden; F. fynde. F. tovne. 55. A. On to; F. Vnto. 56. A. hard; F. herde. A.S. leue; F. beleue. 59. Th. traytour; F. traytoure. 60. A. faste him speedith; F. fast spedeth him. 61. Th. herte; F. hert. 62. A.S. Tr. ne; F. om. 64. F. faire avaunte. 65. F. silfe. 66. S. A. Tr. Now; F. om. S. A. him; F. Th. himselfe. A.S. a; F. om. 67. A.S. a (2); F. om. 68. F. tel; hir; hathe. 69. F. worshippe. 70. A. greet; F. grete. S. a sclander; T. Th. disclaunder. 71. F. hir; reprefe. 72. A. Tr. it; rest om. F. wroght. 73. F. myschefe. 74. F. spake; thoght. 75. F. be; Th. by. F. oght. 76. S. a thank; Tr. hye thank; F. thank. 77. D. Th. A. nede; F. rede. 78. Th. through; F. thorgh.

81. A. that; rest om. F. tel. 82. Th. through; F. thorgh. 83. A.S. Tr. Th. al; F. om. F. dovne. 84. F. fynaly. 85. A. Tr. Betrayen; B. S. T. Betray; F. Betraied. 86. F. is yt that; S. A. Tr. om. yt. 87. A. Ageynes; F. Ayens. F. falsely. 88. F. crafte suche. 89. F. wytte; A. Tr. wil. A. Tr. ay reedy is; S. redy ay is; F. is euer redy. A. tapplie; Th. taply; F. to aplye. 90. A. hy; S. Tr. hie; F. om. 93. T. A. Tr. as; F. om. F. ben. 94. B. A. Tr. Th. they; F. om. 95. Th. pursewe; F. pursw. 98. A. Smal witen; F. Lytell wote; Tr. Litel knowe. 99. F. wrechch; Th. wretche. 101. F. inconstant; feythe. 105. F. cometh. 106. F. fast (read faste). F. ride (read ryd). 107. F. While. Th. behynd; F. behinde. F. bake. 109. A. snak; F. snake; Th. smacke. 110. F. thes; pake. 111. Th. mote; F. mot.

114. F. selfe hyr. 115. F. hir reprefe; vileyny. 116. F. tong. 118. F. folke. 120. F. eke. 124. F. wer. A. D. Th. had; F. hath. 126. F. shapith. 129. F. han leyser; D. T. Th. leisur haue; A. Tr. leiser han. 130. F. purpose. 131. Th. madnesse. 132. F. homelynesse. 133. F. wymmen. 134. F. sclaunder women. 135. F. Too. 139. A. Al moot he flee. 140. Th. tonge; F. tong. 141. F. foule. A. vice; Th. vyce; F. thing. 143. A. Tr. Th. S. man; F. men.

147. Th. ben; Tr. been; F. beth. A. at (for in). A. Th. assay; F. asay. 148. F. hyt. F. o; Th. one. 149. F. varriable. 150. S. and (for or). S. proud; F. proude. 152. F. vnthrift; Th. vntrust. 154. F. swich; D. Th. suche. 155. D. god the hie. 156. A. alle; F. al. A. whether; F. wheither. A. was (for were). 160. F. al. 161. F. om. 2nd that. 163. Tr. goode; F. good. 164. F. caas. 165. Th. good is; F. is good. 166. F. al. 167. Th. owne falsenesse; F. oone falsnesse. 169. F. oght. 171. F. wheither. 172. F. badde. 173. F. witte. 175. F. hir.

176. F. tre gode frute. 177. F. swiche; A. swich. 178. F. Take. 179. F. Merour; Th. myrrour. 180. F. Honure; honured. 181. A. nat hir. 183. F. seyde; Th. sayd. 184. F. foule. 185. F. chirlyssh; Th. churlysshe. 187. F. wymen; Th. women. 188. D. B. T. A. Tr. for to despyse; F. to displesen. 189. F. wol. 191. F. made. 192. A. they lakken; Th. they dispyse; F. dispisen they. Th. women and her; F. wommans; A. wommenes. 193. F. grete reprefe. 194. F. yiven; D. yeve; Th. yeue. 195. F. ben. 198. Th. D. especial; F. special. 203. F. theys; noon. 205. F. grete reprefe. 206. F. grete. 207. F. case.

208. F. custome. 209. F. women. D. B. A. Th. om. 1st or. 210. F. Seye; Th. Say. 211. F. boke. 212. F. women. 213. F. louen; S. D. Tr. Th. loue. 215. A. They (glossed s. libri). F. perylle; Th. perel. F. cast. 216. F. B. wrappes (!) 217. D. S. Th. women. F. B. myshappes (!) 218. S. Th. is; F. om. A. that; rest om. 222. A.S. T. nat; D. Th. not; F. noon. F. while. 223. F. tyranie. 224. F. wymmen. 225. D. Th. many; F. mony. F. wer. 226. Th. Tyed; A. Tyd. 228. F. werray; S. veray; D. verry; Th. very. 229. F. selfe; D. silf. 230. F. folke. 232. F. mawgre; Th. maugre. 233. F. om. the. 234. F. sodenly; Th. sodainly. 236. F. ben; Th. be. F. elleccioun. 237. F. tovne; A. town.

239. Th. her; F. hir. Th. herte; F. hert. F. brenyngly. 241. F. hertys set. 242. F. Ioy. 243. F. ben. 244. Th. sharpe; F. sharp. 248. F. women. 249. S. Wote; A. Wat; F. Th. What (!). F. grete; Th. great. 252. F. aght; Th. aught. 253. Th. it; F. ys (!) F. mervaylle; Th. meruayle. 254. F. women knywen; entent. 255. F. sotyly. 256. F. falshode; Th. falsheed. F. hert ment; Th. herte mente. 257. F. this clerkys. F. hent; Th. hente. 261. F. wroghten; Th. wrought. F. wysse; Th. wyse. 262. S. fillokes (for filthes). F. weren; Th. were. 263. F. wisse; Th. wyse. 263, 264. F. clerkis. 264. A. Th. To; F. D. The (!). 266. F. worshippe; Th. worshyp. 268. F. women. F. good. 269. F. dreden; Th. dredde.

270. F. Women. 271. F. hert. 273. A. swich oon for to. 274. F. eke this women. 276. F. ben. 280. F. ben; hertys; craue (!). 281. F. I (!); for To. Th. Moone. 282. F. lewde. 286. F. longe processe. F. slye; Th. slygh. 287. F. damesele; Th. damosel. 288. F. wytte. 289. F. peyn; Th. payne. T. Th. schulde; F. holde (!). 291. F. assaylle; Th. assayle. 292. F. bataylle; Th. batayle. 293. F. whiche. 294. F. hert; Th. herte. 295. F. yt moot folowen; A. moot it folwen. 296. F. grete. 297. F. dysceve. 298. F. constance; ben. 299. F. clerkys. 301. F. pite.

302. F. frendely; Th. frendly. 303. F. flee (!); golde. 304. F. quyt; hir. 305. F. gate; wolde. 306. F. bolde. 307. F. hir. 308. F. kept; grete. 310. F. wrechch; Th. wretche; A. man. 314. F. That (for Than). F. hert; Th. herte. 315. F. mischefe; hir. 316. Th. natures (for Martres). 318. F. oothe in no; A. ooth noon ne; S. T. Th. othe ne. 320. A. Th. herte; F. hert. A. In herte of man conceites trewe arn dede. 324. A. wommannes; Th. D. womans; F. a womans. Th. wicked crabbydnesse. 326. F. the; harme. 327. F. No fors; A. Yee strab (or scrab). Th. Beth ware women of her fykelnesse. F. take; S. and take. 329. F. smert; Th. smerte. 331. F. sle. 332. F. folke.

335. F. Empoysone folkys; set. 337. F. perfyte. 338. D. B. Th. A. entalented; F. entenlented. 339. F. Be; Th. Al; rest To. F. sytt. 340. F. women. 342. A. softe; F. Th. soft. 343. F. outwarde. 344. A. Wommannes; F. Th. Womans. 346. F. Pitouse devoute ful. 348. F. om. and. 350. F. hir. 351. F. oure; Th. our. A. firste; F. Th. first. 353. F. Ioy; Th. ioye. 356. A. nat; F. ne. 357. F. nade; Th. ne had; A. nad. F. she ne wolde. 358. F. The enviouse; Tr. Thenvyous. F. suellyng. F. fend. 359. Th. herte; F. D. hert. 359. F. Sent; hir. 361. F. deceyve; Th. disceyue. 363. F. woman. 364. F. Gode wote; hir.

365. F. good; Tr. goode. F. woman. 369. F. er; A. Th. or. 370. F. hir. 373. F. cast. 374. F. wronge. 375. F. harme. A. of that gilt. 376. F. fende; mawgre. 377. F. hir. 378. F. oonly. F. breeke; D. Th. brake. 379. F. that; Th. this. F. ben. 381. A. D. mowe; T. mow; Th. may; F. now. 385. A. Th. holde; F. hold. 386. F. Th. where; B. whan. 388. F. swiche. 391. A. F. feende; Tr. worme. 392. F. dide; Th. dyd. 394. F. feende. 395. F. sleythes; Th. sleyghtes; A. sleightes.

397. F. trespase; Th. trespace. F. the hevenes; A. Tr. S. Th. om. the. 398. F. tooke. 401. F. suche. 403. F. Yf (for Of). F. lyfe. 405. F. woyde; Th. voyde. 406. F. hir. 408. F. leene; Th. leane; S. low; A. weyke. 410. Th. dewe. F. moot. 411. A. we witen; rest I sey. F. verraly. 412. F. men (for man). 413. F. mercye; hir girdille. 414. F. mercye. 415. F. farewel; Ioy. 417. F. mercye. 418. F. honureth; Th. honoureth. 419. A. Tr. alle; F. al. 423. F. martirdome. Th. Thou louer trewe. thou mayden mansuete. 425. F. feendis. 427. From A; F. B. omit (!).

430. A. nat; Tr. not; rest neuer. 431. F. om. I. 433. F. hert; hir. 434. F. of my; Th. om. my. 435-448. Precedes 421-434 in Th. 435. F. where. 436. F. werkis; lyfe. 438. F. wommen (read womman, as in l. 442). F. stryfe. 439. F. ententyfe. 441. So Th.; F. B. forsoken hym. 442. F. forsooke. 443. F. left oonly. 444. Tr. holy wryt thus; F. thus holy wryt. 445. F. Lok. 446. So A.; F. B. I may wel preve herby. 447, 448. F. constance, variance. 450. F. trew; Th. trewe. 451. A. is nat told for; F. tolde I nat for; Th. tel I for no. 453. F. oonly loo. 455. F. honure; Th. honour. Th. auaunce. 458. A.S. she; rest he.

459, 460. A.S. She; rest He. S. hir; F. hi (!); rest his. 461. F. wertu. 462. F. Gret; honor. 464. F. oure; echon. 465. F. oure. 466. F. D. om. false. F. reble; Th. rebel. 469. A. ynne; F. in. F. more neuer; A. om. more. 471. S. Tr. that; rest om. 472. F. the ayer; A. their; Tr. theyre. F. moneth. 473. F. oure; where; milion. 474. F. louers trwe. 475. F. Iocunde.

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

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

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

To you, welle of honour and worthinesse,

Our Cristen king, the heir and successour

Un-to Justinians devout tendrenesse

In the feith of Jesu, our redemptour;

And to you, lordes of the Garter, 'flour

Of chevalrye,' as men you clepe and calle;

The lord of vertu and of grace auctour

Graunte the fruit of your loos never appalle!

O lige lord, that han eek the lyknesse

Of Constantyn, th'ensaumple and the mirour

To princes alle, in love and buxumnesse

To holy chirche, O verray sustenour

And piler of our feith, and werreyour

Ageyn the heresyës bitter galle,

Do forth, do forth, continue your socour!

Hold up Cristes baner; lat it nat falle!

[234]

This yle, or this, had been but hethenesse,

Nad been of your feith the force and vigour!

And yit, this day, the feendes fikilnesse

Weneth fully to cacche a tyme and hour

To have on us, your liges, a sharp shour,

And to his servitude us knitte and thralle.

But ay we truste in you, our prótectour;

On your constaunce we awayten alle.

Commandeth that no wight have hardinesse,

O worthy king, our Cristen emperour,

Of the feith to despute more or lesse

Openly among people, wher errour

Springeth al day and engendreth rumour.

Maketh swich lawe, and for aught may befalle,

Observe it wel; ther-to be ye dettour.

Doth so, and god in glorie shal you stalle.

II.

Ye lordes eek, shyninge in noble fame,

To whiche appropred is the maintenaunce

Of Cristes cause; in honour of his name

Shove on, and putte his foos to the outrance!

God wolde so; so wolde eek your ligeaunce;

To tho two prikketh you your duëtee.

Who-so nat kepeth this double observaunce

Of merit and honour naked is he!

Your style seith that ye ben foos to shame;

Now kythe of your feith the perséveraunce,

In which an heep of us arn halte and lame.

Our Cristen king of England and of Fraunce,

And ye, my lordes, with your alliaunce,

And other feithful people that ther be

(Truste I to god) shul quenche al this nuisaunce

And this land sette in hy prosperitee.

[235]

Conquest of hy prowesse is for to tame

The wilde woodnesse of this mescreaunce;

Right to the rote repe ye that same!

Slepe nat this, but, for goddes plesaunce

And his modres, and in signifiaunce

That ye ben of seint Georges liveree,

Doth him servyce and knightly obeisaunce;

For Cristes cause is his, wel knowen ye!

Stif stande in that, and ye shul greve and grame

The fo to pees, the norice of distaunce;

That now is ernest, torne it into game;

Dampnáble fro feith werë variaunce!

Lord lige, and lordes, have in rémembraunce,

Lord of al is the blessed Trinitee,

Of whos vertu the mighty habundaunce

You herte and strengthe in feithful unitee! Amen.

Cest tout.

From P. (Phillipps 8151); also in Ed. (ed. 1542). 1. Ed. honour; P. honur. 2. P. Our right cristen; Ed. om. right. Ed. the heire; P. om. the. 6. P. chiualrie; Ed. cheualry. 8. P. nat; Ed. neuer. 10. Ed. om. the. 11. P. loue and; Ed. humble. 14. P. bittir; Ed. bytter. 15. P. foorth; Ed. forthe (twice). 16. P. Ed. Holde.

19. P. fikilnesse; Ed. crabbydnesse. 20. P. Weeneth; Ed. Weneth. 22. P. seruiture; Ed. seruytude. 25. P. Commandith; Ed. Commaundeth. 26. Ed. O; P. Our. Ed. our; P. and. 27. Ed. dispute. 28. P. where; Ed. Her. 29. P. Spryngith; engendrith. 30. P. Makith. P. aght; Ed. ought. 31. P. been; Ed. be. 32. P. Dooth. 33. P. Yee. 34. P. approped (!). 38. Ed. duite. 39. P. keepith; Ed. kepeth. 40. P. nakid; Ed. naked. 41. Ed. om. that. P. yee been. 43. P. arn; Ed. be. 44. P. Engeland and; Ed. England and of. 45. P. yee. 46. P. othir. 47. P. qwenche. P. nusance; Ed. noysaunce (read nuisance).

49. P. Conqueste; Ed. Conquest. 50. Ed. myscreaunce. 51. P. roote rype; Ed. rote repe. P. yee. 52. P. Sleepe; Ed. Slepe. 54. P. yee been. 55. P. Dooth. 56, 57. P. yee. 57. P. shuln; Ed. shal. P. greeue. 58. Ed. the; P. and. 59. Ed. tourne. 60. Ed. Nowe kythe of your beleue the constaunce. 62. P. blissid; Ed. blysfull.

My noble sones, and eek my lordes dere,

I, your fader called, unworthily,

Sende un-to you this litel tretys here

Writen with myn owne hand full rudëly;

Although it be that I not reverently

Have writen to your estats, yet I you praye,

Myn unconning taketh benignëly

For goddes sake, and herken what I seye.

I complayn sore, whan I remembre me

The sodeyn age that is upon me falle;

More I complayn my mispent juventè

The whiche is impossible ayein to calle.

[238]

But certainly, the most complaynte of alle

Is for to thinke, that I have been so nyce

That I ne wolde no virtue to me calle

In al my youthe, but vyces ay cheryce.

Of whiche I aske mercy of thee, lord,

That art almighty god in majestè,

Beseking thee, to make so even accord

Betwix thee and my soule, that vanitè

Of worldly lust, ne blynd prosperitè

Have no lordship over my flesshe so frele.

Thou lord of reste and parfit unitè,

Put fro me vyce, and keep my soules hele.

And yeve me might, whyl I have lyf and space,

Me to conforme fully to thy plesaunce;

Shewe upon me th'abundaunce of thy grace,

In gode werkes graunt me perséveraunce.

Of al my youthe forget the ignoraunce;

Yeve me good wil, to serve thee ay to queme;

Set al my lyf after thyn ordinaunce,

And able me to mercy, or thou deme!

My lordes dere, why I this complaint wryte

To you, alle whom I love entierly,

Is for to warne you, as I can endyte,

That tyme y-lost in youthe folily

Greveth a wight goostly and bodily,

I mene hem that to lust and vyce entende.

Wherfore, I pray you, lordes, specially,

Your youthe in vertue shapeth to dispende.

Planteth the rote of youthe in suche a wyse

That in vertue your growing be alway;

[239]

Loke ay, goodnesse be in your exercyse,

That shal you mighty make, at eche assay,

The feend for to withstonde at eche affray.

Passeth wysly this perilous pilgrimage,

Thinke on this word, and werke it every day;

That shal you yeve a parfit floured age.

Taketh also hede, how that these noble clerkes

Write in hir bokes of gret sapience,

Saying, that fayth is deed withouten werkes;

So is estat withoute intelligence

Of vertue; and therfore, with diligence,

Shapeth of vertue so to plante the rote,

That ye therof have ful experience,

To worship of your lyfe and soules bote.

Taketh also hede, that lordship ne estat,

Withoute vertue, may not longe endure;

Thinketh eek how vyce and vertue at debat

Have been, and shal, whyles the world may dure;

And ay the vicious, by aventure,

Is overthrowe; and thinketh evermore

That god is lord of vertue and figure

Of al goodnesse; and therfore folowe his lore.

My mayster Chaucer, god his soulë have!

That in his langage was so curious,

He sayde, the fader whiche is deed and grave,

Biquath nothing his vertue with his hous

Unto his sone; therfore laborious

Ought ye to be, beseching god, of grace,

To yeve you might for to be vertuous,

Through which ye might have part of his fayr place.

[240]

Here may ye see that vertuous noblesse

Cometh not to you by way of auncestrye,

But it cometh thorugh leefful besinesse

Of honest lyfe, and not by slogardrye.

Wherfore in youthe I rede you edefye

The hous of vertue in so wys manere

That in your age it may you kepe and gye

Fro the tempest of worldly wawes here.

Thinketh how, betwixë vertue and estat

There is a parfit blessed mariage;

Vertue is cause of pees, vyce of debat

In mannes soule; for which, with ful corage,

Cherissheth vertue, vyces to outrage:

Dryveth hem away; let hem have no wonning

In your soules; leseth not the heritage

Which god hath yeve to vertuous living.

Taketh hede also, how men of povre degree

Through vertue have be set in greet honour,

And ever have lived in greet prosperitee

Through cherisshing of vertuous labour.

Thinketh also, how many a governour

Called to estat, hath oft be set ful lowe

Through misusing of right, and for errour,

Therfore I counsaile you, vertue to knowe.

Thus 'by your eldres may ye nothing clayme,'

As that my mayster Chaucer sayth expresse,

'But temporel thing, that man may hurte and mayme';

100

Than is god stocke of vertuous noblesse;

And sith that he is lord of blessednesse,

And made us alle, and for us alle deyde,

[241]

Folowe his vertue with ful besinesse,

And of this thing herke how my mayster seyde:—

105

The firste stok, fader of gentilesse,

What man that claymeth gentil for to be

Must folowe his trace, and alle his wittes dresse

Vertu to sewe, and vyces for to flee.

For unto vertu longeth dignitee,

110

And noght the revers, saufly dar I deme,

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

This firste stok was ful of rightwisnesse,

Trewe of his word, sobre, pitous, and free,

Clene of his goste, and loved besinesse

115

Ageinst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee;

And, but his heir love vertu, as dide he,

He is noght gentil, though he riche seme,

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse;

120

But ther may no man, as men may wel see,

Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse;

That is appropred unto no degree,

But to the firste fader in magestee

That maketh him his heir, that can him queme,

125

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

Lo here, this noble poete of Bretayne

How hyely he, in vertuous sentence,

The losse in youthe of vertue can complayne;

Wherfore I pray you, dooth your diligence,

130

For your estats and goddes reverence,

T'enprintë vertue fully in your mynde,

That, whan ye come in your juges presence,

Ye be not set as vertules behynde.

Ye lordes have a maner now-a-dayes,

135

Though oon shewe you a vertuous matere,

[242]

Your fervent youthe is of so false alayes

That of that art ye have no joy to here.

But, as a ship that is withouten stere

Dryveth up and doun, withouten governaunce,

140

Wening that calm wol lastë, yeer by yere,

Right so fare ye, for very ignoraunce.

For very shamë, knowe ye nat, by réson

That, after an ebbe, ther cometh a flood ful rage?

In the same wyse, whan youth passeth his séson,

145

Cometh croked and unweldy palled age;

Sone after comen kalends of dotage;

And if your youth no vertue have provyded,

Al men wol saye, fy on your vassalage!

Thus hath your slouth fro worship you devyded.

150

Boëce the clerk, as men may rede and see,

Saith, in his Boke of Consolacioun,

What man desyreth †have of vyne or tree

Plentee of fruit, in the ryping sesoun,

Must ay eschewe to doon oppressioun

155

Unto the rote, whyle it is yong and grene;

Ye may wel see, by this conclusioun,

That youthë vertulees doth mochel tene.

Seeth, there-ayenst, how vertuous noblesse

Roted in youthe, with good perséveraunce,

[243]

160

Dryveth away al vyce and wrecchednesse,

As slogardrye, ryote and distaunce!

Seeth eek how vertue causeth suffisaunce,

And suffisaunce exyleth coveityse!

And who hath vertue hath al abundaunce

165

Of wele, as fer as reson can devyse.

Taketh hede of Tullius Hostilius,

That cam fro povertee to hy degree;

Through vertue redeth eek of Julius

The conquerour, how povre a man was he;

170

Yet, through his vertue and humanitee,

Of many a countree had he governaunce.

Thus vertue bringeth unto greet degree

Eche wight that list to do him entendaunce.

Rede, here-ayenst, of Nero vertulees;

175

Taketh hede also of proude Balthasar;

They hated vertue, equitee, and pees.

Loke how Antiochus fil fro his char,

That he his skin and bones al to-tar!

Loke what meschauncë they had for hir vyces!

180

Who-so that wol not by these signes be war,

I dar wel say, infortunat or nyce is.

I can no more; but here-by may ye see

How vertue causeth parfit sikernesse,

And vyces doon exyle prosperitee;

185

The best is, ech to chesen, as I gesse.

[244]

Doth as you list, I me excuse expresse;

I wolde be sory, if that ye mischese.

God you conferme in vertuous noblesse,

So that through negligence ye nothing lese!

Explicit.

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

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

1. Th. A. sonnes. 2. Th. A. vnworthely. 3. Th. lytel treatyse; A. balade folowing. 4. Th. with; A. H. of. 5. Th. H. Although; Cx. And though; A. Yitte howe. 6. Th. A. estates. A. yet; H. Th. Cx. om. 8. Cx. herkne (better). 9. Th. me sore; A. H. om. me. 10. A. H. falle; Th. fal. 11. Th. But more; A. H. Cx. om. But. Th. iuuentute. 12. Th. ayen for; A. ageine. A. H. calle; Th. cal.

13. Th. H. certainly; A. comvnely. Th. A. moste. A. H. alle; Th. al. 14. A. H. for; Th. om. A. beon; Th. be. 15. A. H. no; Th. om. A. vertue; Th. vertues. A. calle; Th. cal. 16. A. ay; Th. aye. 17. A. thee; Th. the. Th. lorde. 18. Th. H. god; A. lorde. 20. Th. Betwyxe; A. Bytwene. 21. A. H. Of; Th. Cx. om. Th. blynde. 22. A. so freel; Th. H. to frele. 23. Th. lorde; perfyte. 24. A. H. Cx. soules; Th. soule. 25. Th. whyle; lyfe. 26. A. H. confourme; Th. confyrme (!). 27. A. H. vpon; Th. to. 28. Th. And in; A. H. om. And. 30. A. thee; Th. the. 31. Th. lyfe. A. H. thy governaunce. 34. A. alle whome; Cx. whom that; Th. whom. Th. moste entyrely; Cx. A. entierly. 36. A. eloste; Th. loste; H. Cx. lost. 37. A. H. goostely and bodely; Th. Cx. bodily and gostly. 38. Th. meane. 39. A. I prey you lordes; Th. lordes I pray you. A. tendrely. 41. Cx. transposes 41-80 and 81-125. A. Plantethe; Th. Cx. Plante.

43. A. ay; Th. alway. 45. Cx. The frende (!) for to withstonde; A. For to withstonde the feonde; Th. The fende to withstande. 46. Th. peryllous; H. perilous. 47. H. Th. Cx. werke; A. vse. 48. Th. parfyte. 50. Th. Writen; A. Wrote. Th. her. Th. great; H. grete; A. noble. 52. So A.; Th. And right so is estate with negligence. 57. A. Then kepe also that. 58. Cx. A. Withoute; Th. Without. 59. Cx. vice; A. H. Th. vices. 60. A. whiles; Th. while. Th. worlde. 61. A. H. ay; Th. Cx. euer. 63. Th. lorde of al; H. A. lord of. 67. Th. sayd that the; A. saide that the; H. Cx. om. that. Th. father; A. H. fader. 68. H. A. Beqwath; Th. Byqueth. Th. house. 69. So A. Cx.; Th. children and therefore laborouse. 70. H. Th. Ought; A. Aught; Cx. Owe. Th. om. to. Th. besekyng; A. beseching. 72. Th. haue; A. H. gete. Th. parte. A. feyre; Th. H. om.

74. A. Comþe. 75. A. thorugh; Cx. thurgh; Th. by. A. leofful; Th. leful; H. leeful. 77. Th. you ye; A. H. om. ye. 78. Th. house. A. soo wyse; Th. H. suche a. 79. Th. om. it. 80. H. A. worldly; Th. worldes. 81. Th. howe betwyxe; A. howe bytwene. 82. Th. parfyte. 84. H. A. for whiche with full; Th. the whiche be ful of. 85. Th. than vertue; A. om. than. 86. A. Cx. om. 1st hem. 87. A. leese; H. lesith. 89. Th. howe. A. poure; Th. poore. 90, 91. Th. great. 92. Th. H. Through; A. By. 94. Th. H. Called; A. Calde. A. offt; H. Th. Cx. om. 95. A. for; Th. H. Cx. of. 96. Th. And therfore; rest om. And. 97. A. By auncetrye thus; Th. H. Thus by your auncestres; Cx. Thus by your eldres. 99. Th. men (for man). 100. Cx. Than god is. 101. Th. sythe; lorde. Th. blyssednesse; A. blessednesse. 102. A. That (for And). A. H. alle; Th. al (1). Cx. alle; Th. al (2). For us alle A. has mankynde that.

103. So A.; Th. H. Foloweth hym in vertue. 105-125. Chaucer's poem of Gentilesse is here quoted; see vol. i. p. 392. 127. A. Howe hyely he; Th. Howe lightly. 128. A. lesse (!); Th. losse. A. H. in; Th. on. 129. A. Wherfore; Th. And therefore. A. doothe; Th. with (!). 130. A. estates; Th. profyte. 131. A. Tenprynte; Th. Tempereth (!). A. H. vertue fully; Th. fully vertue. 132. Cx. in; A. H. in-to; Th. to. 133. A. H. sette as vertulesse; Th. vertulesse than. 134. H. Cx. Ye; A. For yee; Th. Many. Th. A. nowe. 135. Cx. H. you; Th. hem. A. Thaughe one of you here of a gode matere.

136. Cx. H. Your feruent; Th. Her feruent; A. Your vnsure. 137. Th. arte. Cx. H. ye; Th. they. A. That of suche artes you liste not to. 138. Cx. A. withouten; Th. without a. 139. A. withouten; Th. without. 140. Th. calme. A. wol laste you; Th. wolde last. Th. yere by yere. 141. Cx. A. H. ye; Th. they. 142. Cx. A. H. ye; Th. they. 143. A. Cx. om. ful. 144. A. Right euen so whane. 145. A. Comthe. 146. A. Soone; Th. And sone. Th. comen the; Cx. come; A. comthe. 147. Th. if that; Cx. A. H. om. that. Cx. A. your; Th. her. A. H. no vertue haue; Cx. no vertue hath; Th. haue no vertue. 148. Th. fye. Cx. A. your; Th. her. 149. A. H. your; Th. her. Cx. H. you; Th. hem. A. has Thus hathe youre youthe and slouthe you al misgyded. 152. Cx. A. H. to haue; Th. om. (read haue). 153. A. Plenty of; Cx. Plentyuous; Th. Plentous. Th. fruite. A. H. Cx. the; Th. om. A. H. Cx. riping; Th. reapyng. 154. A. H. Cx. ay; Th. euer. A. doon; Th. do. 156. A. H. Cx. Yee may; Th. Thus may ye. A. H. wele see; Cx. see; Th. se wel. A. H. this; Th. that. A. Cx. conclusioun; Th. inclusyon (!). 157. A. youthe; Th. youth. A. Th. vertulesse. Th. moche; Cx. ofte muche; A. ay michil (read mochel). 158. Th. Nowe seeth; A. H. Cx. om. Nowe. Th. howe; A. that. 159. A. youthe; Th. youth.

160. A. Cx. vyce; H. vice; Th. vyces. 161. A. Al (for As). A. al ryote; H. Cx. Th. om. al. 162. Th. eke howe. 163. So A. Cx.; H. om.; Th. has Seeth eke howe vertue voydeth al vyce (!). 164. Th. H. Cx. whoso; A. om. so. 165. Th. ferre; A. far. Th. reason. 167. A. came frome pouertee; Th. fro pouert came. Th. hygh; A. hye. 168. Th. eke. 169. Th. howe poore. 170. A. H. Cx. humanite; Th. his humylite. 171. Th. om. a. 172. A. unto gret; Cx. to hye; Th. a man to great. 173. A. Cx. list; Th. H. lust. Th. entendaunce; rest attendaunce. 174. Th. nowe of; A. H. Cx. om. nowe. 177. Th. And loke; rest om. And. Th. howe; chare. 178. Th. tare. 179. A. meschaunces. 180. Th. H. Cx. om. that. Th. ware. 181. A. Th. infortunate. A. H. Cx. or; Th. and. 182. Th. no more nowe say; Cx. no more say; H. no more; A. more (!). Th. herby; se. 183. A. Th. Howe. A. Th. perfyte. 184. A. done exyle; Th. H. exylen al; Cx. exyles al. 185. Th. eche man to; Cx. man to; A. dethe to (dethe is put for eche). A. cheesen; Th. chose.

186. Th. A. Dothe. 187. A. Cx. wil (for wolde). Th. right sorie; A. H. Cx. om. right. 188. A. you conferme; Th. confyrme you. 189. A. no thing; Cx. H. nothing; Th. not it. Colophon. Cx. Thus endeth the traytye wiche John Skogan sent to the lordes and estates of the kynges hous.

In May, whan Flora, the fresshe lusty quene,

The soile hath clad in grene, rede, and whyte,

And Phebus gan to shede his stremes shene

Amid the Bole, with al the bemes brighte,

And Lucifer, to chace awey the night,

Ayen the morowe our orizont hath take

To bidde lovers out of hir sleepe awake,

And hertes hevy for to recomforte

From dreriheed of hevy nightes sorowe,

Nature bad hem ryse, and hem disporte,

Ayen the goodly, gladde, greye morowe;

And Hope also, with seint Johan to borowe,

Bad, in dispyt of daunger and dispeyre,

For to take the hoolsom lusty eyre:

And with a sigh I gan for to abreyde

Out of my slombre, and sodainly up sterte

As he, alas! that nigh for sorowe deyde,

My sekenes sat ay so nigh my herte.

But, for to finde socour of my smerte,

[246]

Or at the leste som réles of my peyne,

That me so sore halt in every veyne,

I roos anon, and thoghte I wolde goon

Into the wode, to here the briddes singe,

Whan that the misty vapour was agoon

And clere and faire was the morowning;

The dewe also, lyk silver in shyning

Upon the leves, as any baume swete,

Til fyry Tytan, with his persaunt hete,

Had dryed up the lusty licour newe

Upon the herbes in the grene mede,

And that the floures, of many dyvers hewe,

Upon hir stalkes gonne for to sprede

And for to splaye[n] out hir leves on-brede

Agayn the sonne, gold-burned in his spere,

That doun to hem caste his bemes clere.

And by a river forth I gan costey

Of water clere as berel or cristal

Til at the laste I found a litel wey

Toward a park, enclosed with a wal

In compas rounde, and by a gate smal

Who-so that wolde frely mighte goon

Into this park, walled with grene stoon.

And in I wente, to here the briddes song,

Whiche on the braunches, bothe in playn and vale,

So loude songe, that al the wode rong

Lyke as it shulde shiver in peces smale;

And, as me thoughte, that the nightingale

[247]

With so gret mighte her voys gan out-wreste

Right as her herte for love wolde breste.

The soil was playn, smothe, and wonder softe

Al oversprad with tapites that Nature

Had mad her-selve, celured eek alofte

With bowes grene, the floures for to cure,

That in hir beautè they may longe endure

From al assaut of Phebus fervent fere,

Whiche in his spere so hote shoon and clere.

The eyre attempre, and the smothe wind

Of Zepherus, among the blossomes whyte,

So hoolsom was and norisshing by kind,

That smale buddes, and rounde blomes lyte

In maner gonnen of her brethe delyte

To yeve us hope that hir fruit shal take,

Ayens autumpne, redy for to shake.

I saw ther Daphne, closed under rinde,

Grene laurer, and the hoolsom pyne;

The myrre also, that wepeth ever of kinde;

The cedres hye, upright as a lyne;

The philbert eek, that lowe doth enclyne

Her bowes grene to the erthe adoun

Unto her knight, y-called Demophoun.

Ther saw I eek the fresshe hawëthorn

In whyte motlè, that so swote doth smelle,

Ash, firre, and ook, with many a yong acorn,

[248]

And many a tree—mo than I can telle;

And, me beforn, I saw a litel welle,

That had his cours, as I gan beholde,

Under an hille, with quikke stremes colde.

The gravel gold, the water pure as glas,

The bankes rounde, the welle envyroning;

And softe as veluët the yonge gras

That therupon lustily cam springing;

The sute of trees aboute compassing

Hir shadowe caste, closing the welle rounde,

And al the herbes growing on the grounde.

The water was so hoolsom and vertuous

Through might of herbes growing there besyde,

Not lyk the welle, wher-as Narcisus

Y-slayn was, through vengeaunce of Cupyde,

Where so covertly he didë hyde

The grayn of cruel dethe upon ech brinke,

That deeth mot folowe, who that ever drinke;

Ne lyk the pittë of the Pegacè

Under Pernaso, where poetës slepte;

Nor lyk the welle of pure chastitè

Which that Dyane with her nymphes kepte,

Whan she naked into the water lepte,

That slow Acteon with his houndes felle

Only for he cam so nigh the welle!

Bút this welle, that I here reherce,

100

So hoolsom was, that it wolde aswage

Bollen hertes, and the venim perce

Of pensifheed, with al the cruel rage,

And evermore refresshe the visage

Of hem that were in any werinesse

105

Of greet labour, or fallen in distresse.

[249]

And I, that had, through daunger and disdayne,

So drye a thrust, thoughte I wolde assaye

To taste a draughte of this welle, or twayne,

My bitter langour if it mighte alaye;

110

And on the banke anon adoun I lay,

And with myn heed unto the welle I raughte,

And of the water drank I a good draughte;

Wherof, me thought, I was refresshed wele

Of the brenning that sat so nigh my herte,

115

That verily anon I gan to fele

An huge part relesed of my smerte;

And therwithallë anon up I sterte,

And thoughte I wolde walke, and see more

Forth in the parke, and in the holtes hore.

120

And through a laundë as I yede a-pace

And gan aboute faste to beholde,

I found anon a délitable place

That was beset with treës yonge and olde,

Whose names here for me shal not be tolde;

125

Amidde of whiche stood an herber grene,

That benched was, with colours newe and clene.

Thís herber was ful of floures inde,

In-to the whiche as I beholde gan,

Betwix an hulfere and a wodëbinde,

130

As I was war, I saw wher lay a man

In blakke and whyte colour, pale and wan,

And wonder deedly also of his hewe,

Of hurtes grene and fresshe woundes newe.

And overmore distrayned with sekenesse,

135

Besyde al this, he was, ful grevously;

For upon him he had an hoot accesse,

That day by day him shook ful pitously;

So that, for constreynt of his malady

And hertly wo, thus lying al alone,

140

It was a deeth for to here him grone.

[250]

Wherof astonied, my foot I gan withdrawe,

Greetly wondring what it mighte be

That he so lay, and hadde no felawe,

Ne that I coude no wight with him see;

145

Wherof I hadde routhe, and eek pitè,

And gan anon, so softely as I coude,

Among the busshes me prively to shroude;

If that I mighte in any wyse espye

What was the cause of his deedly wo,

150

Or why that he so pitously gan crye

On his fortune, and on his ure also;

With al my might I layde an ere to,

Every word to marke, what he seyde,

Out of his swough among as he abrayde.

155

But first, if I shulde make mencioun

Of his persone, and plainly him discryve,

He was in sothe, without excepcioun,

To speke of manhode, oon the best on-lyve;

Ther may no man ayen the trouthe stryve.

160

For of his tyme, and of his age also

He proved was, ther men shulde have ado,

For oon the beste there, of brede and lengthe

So wel y-mad by good proporcioun,

If he had be in his deliver strengthe;

165

But thought and seknesse were occasioun

That he thus lay, in lamentacioun,

Gruffe on the grounde, in place desolat,

Sole by him-self, awhaped and amat.

And, for me semeth that it is sitting

170

His wordes al to putte in remembraunce,

To me, that herdë al his complayning

And al the groundë of his woful chaunce,

If ther-withal I may you do plesaunce,

I wol to you, so as I can, anon,

175

Lyk as he sayde, reherce hem everichon.

[251]

But who shal helpe me now to complayne?

Or who shal now my style gye or lede?

O Niobè, let now thy teres rayne

In-to my penne; and helpe eek in this nede,

180

Thou woful Mirre, that felest my herte blede

Of pitous wo, and myn hand eek quake

Whan that I wryte, for this mannes sake!

For unto wo accordeth complayning

And doleful cherë unto hevinesse;

185

To sorowe also, syghing and weping,

And pitous mourning, unto drerinesse;

And whoso that shal wryten of distresse

In party nedeth to knowe felingly

Cause and rote of al such malady.

190

But I, alas! that am of witte but dulle,

And have no knowing of such matere,

For to discryve and wryten at the fulle

The woful complaynt, which that ye shal here,

But even-lyk as doth a skrivenere

195

That can no more what that he shal wryte,

But as his maister besyde doth endyte;

Right so fare I, that of no sentement

Saye right naught, as in conclusioun,

But as I herde, whan I was present,

200

This man complayne with a pitous soun;

For even-lyk, without addicioun

Or disencrees, either more or lesse,

For to reherce anon I wol me dresse.

And if that any now be in this place

205

That fele in love brenning or fervence,

Or hindred werë to his lady grace

With false tonges, that with pestilence

Slee trewe men that never did offence

In word nor dede, ne in hir entent—

210

If any suche be here now present,

[252]

Let him of routhe lay to audience,

With doleful chere and sobre countenaunce,

To here this man, by ful high sentence,

His mortal wo and his gret perturbaunce

215

Cómplayning, now lying in a traunce,

With lokes upcaste, and with ruful chere,

Th' effect of whiche was as ye shal here.—

Compleynt.

The thought oppressed with inward sighes sore,

The painful lyf, the body languisshing,

220

The woful gost, the herte rent and tore,

The pitous chere, pale in compleyning,

The deedly face, lyk ashes in shyning,

The salte teres that fro myn eyën falle,

Parcel declare grounde of my peynes alle:

225

Whos herte is grounde to blede in hevinesse;

The thought, resceyt of wo and of complaynt;

The brest is cheste of dole and drerinesse;

The body eek so feble and so faynt;

With hote and colde myn acces is so meynt,

230

That now I chiver for defaute of hete,

And, hoot as gleed, now sodainly I swete.

Now hoot as fyr, now cold as asshes dede,

Now hoot fro cold, now cold fro hete agayn;

Now cold as ys, now as coles rede

235

For hete I brenne; and thus, betwixe twayne,

I possed am, and al forcast in payne;

So that my hete plainly, as I fele,

Of grevous cold is causë, every-deel.

This is the cold of inward high disdayne,

240

Cold of dispyt, and cold of cruel hate;

This is the cold that doth his besy payne

Ayeines trouthe to fighte and to debate.

This is the cold that wolde the fyr abate

[253]

Of trewe mening; alas! the harde whyle!

245

This is the cold that wolde me begyle.

For ever the better that in trouthe I mente

With al my mighte faythfully to serve,

With herte and al for to be diligent,

The lesse thank, alas! I can deserve!

250

Thus for my trouthe Daunger doth me sterve.

For oon that shulde my deeth, of mercy, lette

Hath mad despyt newe his swerd to whette

Ayeines me, and his arowes to fyle

To take vengeaunce of wilful crueltè;

255

And tonges false, through hir sleightly wyle,

Han gonne a werre that wil not stinted be;

And fals Envye, Wrathe, and Enmitè,

Have conspired, ayeines al right and lawe,

Of hir malyce, that Trouthe shal be slawe.

260

And Male-Bouche gan first the tale telle,

To slaundre Trouthe, of indignacioun;

And Fals-Report so loude rong the belle,

That Misbeleve and Fals-Suspeccioun,

Have Trouthe brought to his dampnacioun,

265

So that, alas! wrongfully he dyeth,

And Falsnes now his placë occupyeth,

And entred is in-to Trouthes lond,

And hath therof the ful possessioun.

O rightful god, that first the trouthe fond,

270

How may thou suffre such oppressioun,

That Falshood shulde have jurisdiccioun

In Trouthes right, to slee him giltëlees?

In his fraunchyse he may not live in pees.

Falsly accused, and of his foon forjuged,

275

Without answere, whyl he was absent,

He dampned was, and may not ben excused,

[254]

For Crueltè sat in jugëment

Of hastinesse, withoute avysëment,

And bad Disdayn do execute anon

280

His jugëment, in presence of his foon.

Attourney noon ne may admitted been

T'ëxcuse Trouthë, ne a word to speke;

To fayth or ooth the juge list not seen,

There is no gayn, but he wil be wreke.

285

O lord of trouthe, to thee I calle and clepe;

How may thou see, thus in thy presence,

Withoute mercy, murdred innocence?

Now god, that art of trouthe soverain

And seëst how I lye for trouthe bounde,

290

So sore knit in loves fyry chain

Even at the deth, through-girt with many a wounde

That lykly are never for to sounde,

And for my trouthe am dampned to the deeth,

And not abyde, but drawe along the breeth:

295

Consider and see, in thyn eternal right,

How that myn herte professed whylom was

For to be trewe with al my fulle might

Only to oon, the whiche now, alas!

Of voluntè, withoute any trespas,

300

Myn accusours hath taken unto grace,

And cherissheth hem, my deth for to purchace.

What meneth this? what is this wonder ure

Of purveyauncë, if I shal it calle,

Of god of love, that false hem so assure,

305

And trewe, alas! doun of the whele ben falle?

And yet in sothe, this is the worst of alle,

That Falshed wrongfully of Trouthe hath name,

And Trouthe ayenward of Falshed bereth the blame.

This blinde chaunce, this stormy aventure,

310

In lovë hath most his experience;

For who that doth with trouthe most his cure

[255]

Shal for his mede finde most offence,

That serveth love with al his diligence;

For who can faynë, under lowliheed,

315

Ne fayleth not to finde grace and speed.

For I loved oon, ful longë sith agoon,

With al my herte, body, and ful might,

And, to be deed, my herte can not goon

From his hest, but holde that he hath hight;

320

Though I be banisshed out of her sight,

And by her mouth dampned that I shal deye,

†To my behest yet I wil ever obeye.

For ever, sithë that the world began,

Who-so list lokë, and in storie rede,

325

He shal ay finde that the trewe man

Was put abakke, wher-as the falshede

Y-furthered was; for Love taketh non hede

To slee the trewe, and hath of hem no charge,

Wher-as the false goth freely at hir large.

330

I take recorde of Palamides,

The trewe man, the noble worthy knight,

That ever loved, and of his payn no relees;

Notwithstonding his manhood and his might

Love unto him did ful greet unright;

335

For ay the bet he did in chevalrye,

The more he was hindred by envye.

And ay the bet he did in every place

Through his knighthood and his besy payne,

The ferther was he from his lady grace,

340

For to her mercy mighte he never attayne;

And to his deth he coude it not refrayne

For no daungere, but ay obey and serve

As he best coude, plainly, til he sterve.

What was the fyne also of Hercules,

345

For al his conquest and his worthinesse,

That was of strengthe alone pereles?

[256]

For, lyk as bokes of him list expresse,

He sette pillers, through his hy prowesse,

Away at Gades, for to signifye

350

That no man mighte him passe in chevalrye.

The whiche pillers ben ferre beyonde Inde

Beset of golde, for a remembraunce;

And, for al that, was he set behinde

With hem that Love liste febly avaunce;

355

For [he] him sette last upon a daunce,

Ageynes whom helpe may no stryf;

For al his trouthe, yit he loste his lyf.

Phebus also, for al his persaunt light,

Whan that he wente here in erthe lowe,

360

Unto the herte with fresh Venus sight

Y-wounded was, through Cupydes bowe,

And yet his lady liste him not to knowe.

Though for her love his herte didë blede,

She leet him go, and took of him no hede.

365

What shal I saye of yonge Piramus?

Of trew Tristram, for al his hye renoun?

Of Achilles, or of Antonius?

Of Arcite eke, or of him Palemoun?

What was the endë of hir passioun

370

But, after sorowe, deeth, and than hir grave?

Lo, here the guerdon that these lovers have!

But false Jason, with his doublenesse,

That was untrewe at Colkos to Medee,

And Theseus, rote of unkindënesse,

375

And with these two eek the false Enee;

Lo! thus the falsë, ay in oon degrè,

Had in love hir lust and al hir wille;

And, save falshood, ther was non other skille.

Of Thebes eek the false [knight] Arcyte,

380

And Demophon †also, for [al] his slouthe,

They had hir lust and al that might delyte

[257]

For al hir falshode and hir greet untrouthe.

Thus ever Love (alas! and that is routhe!)

His false leges forthereth what he may,

385

And sleeth the trewe ungoodly, day by day.

For trewe Adon was slayn with the bore

Amid the forest, in the grene shade;

For Venus love he feltë al the sore.

But Vulcanus with her no mercy made;

390

The foule chorl had many nightes glade,

Wher Mars, her worthy knight, her trewe man,

To finde mercy, comfort noon he can.

Also the yonge fresshe Ipomenes

So lusty free [was], as of his corage,

395

That for to serve with al his herte he chees

Athalans, so fair of hir visage;

But Love, alas! quitte him so his wage

With cruel daunger plainly, at the laste,

That, with the dethe, guerdonles he paste.

400

Lo! here the fyne of loveres servyse!

Lo! how that Love can his servaunts quyte!

Lo! how he can his faythful men despyse,

To slee the trewe, and false to respyte!

Lo! how he doth the swerd of sorowe byte

405

In hertes, suche as most his lust obeye,

To save the false, and do the trewe deye!

For fayth nor ooth, word, ne assuraunce,

Trewe mening, awayte, or besinesse,

Stille port, ne faythful attendaunce,

410

Manhood, ne might, in armes worthinesse,

Pursute of worship, nor no hy prowesse,

In straunge lande ryding, ne travayle,

Ful lyte or nought in lovë doth avayle.

[258]

Peril of dethe, nother in see ne lande,

415

Hunger ne thurst, sorowe ne sekenesse,

Ne grete empryses for to take on hande,

Sheding of blode, ne manful hardinesse,

Ne ofte woundinge at sautes by distresse,

Nor †juparting of lyf, nor deeth also—

420

Al is for nought, Love taketh no hede therto!

But lesings, with hir false flaterye,

Through hir falshede, and with hir doublenesse,

With tales newe and many fayned lye,

By fals semblaunt and counterfet humblesse,

425

Under colour depeynt with stedfastnesse,

With fraude covered under a pitous face

Accepte been now rathest unto grace,

And can hem-selve now best magnifye

With fayned port and fals presumpcioun;

430

They haunce hir cause with fals surquedrye

Under meninge of double entencioun,

To thenken oon in hir opinioun

And saye another; to sette hemselve alofte

And hinder trouthe, as it is seyn ful ofte.

435

The whiche thing I bye now al to dere,

Thanked be Venus and the god Cupyde!

As it is sene by myn oppressed chere,

And by his arowes that stiken in my syde,

That, sauf the deth, I nothing abyde

440

Fro day to day; alas, the harde whyle!

Whan ever his dart that him list to fyle,

My woful herte for to ryve a-two

For faute of mercy, and lak of pitè

Of her that causeth al my payne and wo

445

And list not ones, of grace, for to see

Unto my trouthe through her crueltee;

And, most of alle, yit I me complayne,

That she hath joy to laughen at my peyne!

[259]

And wilfully hath [she] my deeth y-sworn

450

Al giltëlees, and wot no cause why

Save for the trouthe that I have had aforn

To her alone to serve faithfully!

O god of lovë! unto thee I cry,

And to thy blinde double deitee

455

Of this gret wrongë I compleyne me,

And to thy stormy wilful variaunce

Y-meynt with chaunge and greet unstablenesse;

Now up, now doun, so renning is thy chaunce,

That thee to truste may be no sikernesse.

460

I wyte it nothing but thy doublenesse;

And who that is an archer and is †blent

Marketh nothing, but sheteth as he †went.

And for that he hath no discrecioun,

Withoute avys he let his arowe go;

465

For lakke of sight, and also of resoun,

In his shetinge, it happeth ofte so,

To hurte his frend rather than his fo;

So doth this god, [and] with his sharpe floon

The trewe sleeth, and let the false goon.

470

And of his wounding this is the worst of alle,

Whan he hurteth, he doth so cruel wreche

And maketh the seke for to crye and calle

Unto his fo, for to been his leche;

And hard it is, for a man to seche,

475

Upon the point of dethe in jupardye,

Unto his fo, to finde remedye!

Thus fareth it now even by me,

That to my fo, that yaf myn herte a wounde,

Mote aske grace, mercy, and pitè,

480

And namëly, ther wher non may be founde!

For now my sore my leche wil confounde,

[260]

And god of kinde so hath set myn ure,

My lyves fo to have my wounde in cure!

Alas! the whyle now that I was born!

485

Or that I ever saw the brighte sonne!

For now I see, that ful longe aforn,

Or I was born, my desteny was sponne

By Parcas sustren, to slee me, if they conne;

For they my deth shopen or my sherte

490

Only for trouthe! I may it not asterte.

The mighty goddesse also of Nature

That under god hath the governaunce

Of worldly thinges committed to her cure,

Disposed hath, through her wys purveyaunce,

495

To yeve my lady so moche suffisaunce

Of al vertues, and therwithal purvyde

To murdre trouthe, hath take Daunger to gyde.

For bountè, beautè, shappe, and semeliheed,

Prudence, wit, passingly fairnesse,

500

Benigne port, glad chere with lowliheed,

Of womanheed right plenteous largesse,

Nature did in her fully empresse,

Whan she her wroughte; and alther-last Disdayne,

To hinder trouthe, she made her chamberlayne;

505

Whan Mistrust also, and Fals-Suspeccioun,

With Misbeleve, she made for to be

Cheef of counsayl to this conclusioun,

For to exyle Routhe, and eek Pitè,

Out of her court to make Mercy flee,

510

So that Dispyt now holdeth forth her reyne,

Through hasty bileve of tales that men feyne.

And thus I am, for my trouthe, alas!

Murdred and slayn with wordes sharpe and kene,

Giltlees, god wot, of al maner trespas,

515

And lye and blede upon this colde grene.

Now mercy, swete! mercy, my lyves quene!

And to your grace of mercy yet I preye,

In your servyse that your man may deye!

[261]

But if so be that I shal deye algate,

520

And that I shal non other mercy have,

Yet of my dethe let this be the date

That by your wille I was brought to my grave;

Or hastily, if that you list me save,

My sharpe woundes, that ake so and blede,

525

Of mercy, charme, and also of womanhede.

For other charme, playnly, is ther non

But only mercy, to helpe in this case;

For though my woundes blede ever in oon,

My lyf, my deeth, standeth in youre grace;

530

And though my gilt be nothing, alas!

I aske mercy in al my beste entente,

Redy to dye, if that ye assente.

For ther-ayeines shal I never stryve

In worde ne werke; playnly, I ne may;

535

For lever I have than to be alyve

To dye soothly, and it be her to pay;

Ye, though it be this eche same day

Or whan that ever her liste to devyse;

Suffyceth me to dye in your servyse.

540

And god, that knowest the thought of every wight

Right as it is, in †al thing thou mayst see,

Yet, ere I dye, with all my fulle might

Lowly I pray, to graunte[n] unto me

That ye, goodly, fayre, fresshe, and free,

545

Which slee me only for defaute of routhe,

Or that I dye, ye may knowe my trouthe.

For that, in sothe, suffyseth unto me,

And she it knowe in every circumstaunce;

And after, I am wel apayd that she

550

If that hir list, of dethe to do vengeaunce

Untó me, that am under her legeaunce;

[262]

It sit me not her doom to disobeye,

But, at her luste, wilfully to deye.

Withoute grucching or rebellioun

555

In wille or worde, hoolly I assent,

Or any maner contradiccioun,

Fully to be at her commaundëment;

And, if I dyë, in my testament

My herte I sende, and my spirit also,

560

What-so-ever she list, with hem to do.

And alder-last unto her womanhede

And to her mercy me I recommaunde,

That lye now here, betwixe hope and drede,

Abyding playnly what she list commaunde.

565

For utterly, (this nis no demaunde),

Welcome to me, whyl me lasteth breeth,

Right at her choise, wher it be lyf or deeth!

In this matere more what mighte I seyn,

Sith in her hande and in her wille is al,

570

Both lyf and deeth, my joy and al my payn?

And fynally, my heste holde I shal,

Til my spirit, by desteny fatal,

Whan that her liste, fro my body wende;

Have here my trouthe, and thus I make an ende!'

575

And with that worde he gan syke as sore

Lyk as his herte ryve wolde atwayne,

And held his pees, and spak a word no more.

But, for to see his wo and mortal payne,

The teres gonne fro myn eyen rayne

580

Ful pitously, for very inward routhe

That I him saw so languisshing for trouthe.

And al this whyle my-self I kepte cloos

Among the bowes, and my-self gan hyde,

Til, at the laste, the woful man aroos,

585

And to a logge wente ther besyde,

Where, al the May, his custome was t'abyde,

[263]

Sole, to complaynen of his paynes kene,

Fro yeer to yere, under the bowes grene.

And for bicause that it drow to the night

590

And that the sonne his ark diurnál

Y-passed was, so that his persaunt light,

His brighte bemes and his stremes al

Were in the wawes of the water fal,

Under the bordure of our ocëan,

595

His char of golde his cours so swiftly ran:

And whyl the twylight and the rowes rede

Of Phebus light were dëaurat a lyte,

A penne I took, and gan me faste spede

The woful playntë of this man to wryte

600

Word by wordë, as he did endyte;

Lyk as I herde, and coude him tho reporte,

I have here set, your hertes to disporte.

If ought be mis, layeth the wyte on me,

For I am worthy for to bere the blame

605

If any thing [here] misreported be,

To make this dytè for to seme lame

Through myn unconning; but, to sayn the same,

Lyk as this man his complaynt did expresse,

I aske mercy and forgivënesse.

610

And, as I wroot, me thoughte I saw a-ferre,

Fer in the weste, lustely appere

Esperus, the goodly brighte sterre,

So glad, so fair, so persaunt eek of chere,

I mene Venus, with her bemes clere,

615

That, hevy hertes only to releve,

Is wont, of custom, for to shewe at eve.

And I, as faste, fel doun on my knee

And even thus to her gan I to preye:—

'O lady Venus! so faire upon to see,

620

Let not this man for his trouthe deye,

For that joy thou haddest whan thou leye

With Mars thy knight, whan Vulcanus you fond,

And with a chayne invisible you bond

[264]

Togider, bothe twayne, in the same whyle

625

That al the court above celestial

At youre shame gan for to laughe and smyle!

A! fairë lady! welwilly founde at al,

Comfort to careful, O goddesse immortal!

Be helping now, and do thy diligence

630

To let the stremes of thyn influence

Descende doun, in forthering of the trouthe,

Namely, of hem that lye in sorowe bounde;

Shew now thy might, and on hir wo have routhe

Er fals Daunger slee hem and confounde.

635

And specially, let thy might be founde

For to socourë, what-so that thou may,

The trewe man that in the herber lay,

From the Crede.	From the Tale.
Curteis Crist (1, 140).	curteys Christ (482).
cutted cote (434).	cutted clothes (929).
y can nohȝt my Crede (8).	Suche that conne nat hir Crede (413).
At marketts and myracles, we medleth us nevere (107).	Market-beters, and medling make (871).
For we buldeth a burwȝ, a brod and a large (118).	And builde als brode as a citè (743).
portreid and peint (121).	I-paynted and portred (135).
peynt and portred (192).
y sey coveitise catel to fongen (146).	To catche catell as covytous (385; cf. 856).
[xxxiv] Of double worstede y-dyȝt (228).	With double worsted well y-dight (1002).
Than ther lefte in Lucifer, er he were lowe fallen (374).	As lowe as Lucifer such shall fall (124).
opon the plow hongen (421).	honged at the plow (1042).
povere in gost God him-self blisseth (521).	The pore in spirit gan Christ blesse (915).
ben maysters icalled, That the gentill Jesus ... purly defended (574).	Maysters be called defended he tho (1115).
to brenne the bodye in a bale of fijr (667).	Thou shalt be brent in balefull fyre (1234).
Thei shulden nouȝt after the face ... demen (670).	They nolde nat demen after th face (714).
Thei schulden delven and diggen and dongen the erthe,	Threshing and dyking fro town to town,
And mene mong-corn bred to her mete fongen (785).	With sory mete, and not half y-now (1043).
He miȝte no maistre ben kald, for Crist that defended (838).	Maysters be called defended he tho (1115).

		PAGE
Introduction.—§ 1. Works appended to those of Chaucer in various editions. § 2. Thynne's collection in 1532. A Praise of Women. The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen. The Remedy of Love. § 3. Other non-Chaucerian pieces. The Craft of Lovers. A Balade. The Ten Commandments of Love. The Nine Ladies Worthy. Virelai. The Judgement of Paris. A Balade pleasaunte. Another Balade. The Court of Love. § 4. Additions by Speght. Chaucer's Dream. Eight Goodly Questions. § 5. Editions and MSS. consulted. § 6. Authorities for the pieces here printed. § 7. I. The Testament of Love. § 8. The acrostic found in it. Name of the author. § 9. Fate of Thomas Usk. § 10. Idea of the work. § 11. The author's plagiarisms from Chaucer. § 12. How he stole a passage from The House of Fame. § 13. Borrowings from Troilus and Piers Plowman. § 14. The author's inaccuracies. § 15. The title; and the meaning of Margaret. § 16. Plan of the work. § 17. Outline of Book I. § 18. Outline of Book II. § 19. Outline of Book III. § 20. II. The Plowmans Tale. § 21. Never supposed to be Chaucer's. § 22. Written by the author of The Ploughmans Crede. § 23. III. Jack Upland. § 24. Date, A.D. 1402. § 25. Traces of two texts. § 26. Not originally written in alliterative verse. § 27. IV. The Praise of Peace. By John Gower. § 28. The Trentham MS. § 29. Date, A.D. 1399. § 30. V. The Letter of Cupid. By Thomas Hoccleve. § 31. VI. Two Balades. By Thomas Hoccleve. § 32. VII. A Moral Balade. By Henry Scogan. Date, about 1407. § 33. The supper at the Vintry. § 34. VIII. The Complaint of the Black Knight. By John Lydgate. § 35. His quotations from Chaucer's version of the Romaunt of the Rose. Date, about 1402. § 36. IX. The Flour of Curtesye. By John Lydgate. Date, about 1401. § 37. X. A Balade in Commendation of our Lady. By John Lydgate. § 38. A new stanza and a new MS. § 39. XI. To my Soverain Lady. By John Lydgate. § 40. XII. Ballad of Good Counsel. By John Lydgate. § 41. XIII. Beware of Doubleness. By John Lydgate. § 42. XIV. A Balade: Warning Men, &c. By John Lydgate. § 43. XV. Three Sayings. By John Lydgate. § 44. XVI. La Belle Dame sans Mercy. By Sir Richard Ros. Date, about 1460. [vi] § 45. Apparently in the Leicestershire dialect. § 46. Alan Chartier. § 47. Thynne's text and the MSS. § 48. XVII. The Testament of Cresseid. By Robert Henryson. Date, about 1460. § 49. XVIII. The Cuckoo and the Nightingale. Probably by Sir Thomas Clanvowe. § 50. The queen at Woodstock; about A.D. 1403. § 51. Clanvowe's excessive use of the final -e. § 52. His partiality for 'headless' lines. § 53. Milton's Sonnet to the Nightingale. § 54. XIX. Envoy to Alison. Not by Clanvowe. § 55. XX. The Flower and the Leaf. By the authoress of The Assembly of Ladies. § 56. The former is the earlier poem. Neither of them is by Chaucer. § 57. Variations from Chaucer's usages. § 58. Examination of the Rimes. § 59. Change in pronunciation. § 60. Gower on the Flower and the Leaf. § 61. XXI. The Assembly of Ladies. By the authoress of The Flower and the Leaf. § 62. Ordering of a medieval household. § 63. XXII. A Goodly Balade. By John Lydgate. Imperfect. § 64. XXIII. Go forth, King. By John Lydgate. § 65. Duodecim Abusiones. § 66. XXIV. The Court of Love. First printed in 1561. § 67. Tyrwhitt's plan for a Glossary to the Canterbury Tales. § 68. Moxon's edition of Chaucer; establishing an erroneous canon of Chaucer's Works. § 69. How to draw up such a canon correctly. § 70. The Court of Love discussed. § 71. The Trinity MS. and the language. § 72. Artificiality of the archaisms affected. § 73. Examination of the Rimes. § 74. Comparison with Chaucerian English. § 75. The Courts of Love. § 76. Pieces numbered XXV-XXIX. § 77. Twelve authors (at least) distinguished in the present volume. § 78. There are probably four more. § 79. Improvements in the present edition		ix
I.	Thomas Usk: The Testament of Love.
	Book I: Prologue and Chapters I-X	1
	Book II: Chapters I-XIV	46
	Book III: Chapters I-IX	101
II.	The Plowmans Tale	147
III.	Jack Upland	191
IV.	John Gower: The Praise of Peace	205
V.	Thomas Hoccleve: The Letter of Cupid	217
VI.	The same: To the Kinges most noble Grace	233
	The same: To the Lordes and Knightes of the Garter	234
VII.	Henry Scogan: A Moral Balade	237
VIII.	John Lydgate: The Complaint of the Black Knight; or, The Complaint of a Loveres Lyfe	245
IX.	The same: The Flour of Curtesye	266
X.	The same: A Balade; in Commendation of our Lady	275
XI.	The same: To my Soverain Lady	281
XII.	The same: Ballad of Good Counsel	285
[vii] XIII.	The same: Beware of Doubleness	291
XIV.	The same: A Balade: Warning Men to beware of deceitful Women	295
XV.	The same: Three Sayings	297
XVI.	Sir Richard Ros: La Belle Dame sans Mercy	299
XVII.	Robert Henryson: The Testament of Cresseid	327
XVIII.	The Cuckoo and the Nightingale; or, the Book of Cupid, God of Love. (By Clanvowe)	347
XIX.	An Envoy to Alison	359
XX.	The Flower and the Leaf (By a Lady)	361
XXI.	The Assembly of Ladies (By the same)	380
XXII.	A Goodly Balade. (By John Lydgate)	405
XXIII.	Go forth, King. (By John Lydgate)	408
XXIV.	The Court of Love	409
XXV.	A Virelai	448
XXVI.	Prosperity. (By John Walton)	449
XXVII.	Leaulte vault Richesse	449
XXVIII.	Sayings printed by Caxton	450
XXIX.	Balade in Praise of Chaucer	450
Notes to the Foregoing Pieces		451
Glossarial Index		555
Index of Names		603
Index to some subjects explained in the Notes		607

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