Hoccleve's Works. III The regement of princes A.D. 1411-12, from the Harleian MS. 4866, and fourteen of Hoccleve's minor poems from the Egerton MS. 615. Edited by Frederick J. Furnivall |
Hoccleve's Works. III | ||
The Regement of Princes.
Heere begynnyth the Book how Pryncys sholden be governyd.
1
Mvsyng vpon the restles bisynesseWhich that this troubly world hath ay on honde,
That othir thyng than fruyt of byttirnesse
Ne yeldeth nought, as I can vndirstonde,
At Chestre ynnë, right fast be the stronde,
As I lay in my bed vp-on a nyght,
Thought me bereft of sleep with force and myght.
2
And many a day and nyght that wykked hyneHaddë beforn vexid my poorë goost
So grevously, that of anguysh and pyne
No richere man was nougher in no coost;
This dar I seyn, may no wight make his boost
That he with thought was bettir than I aqveynted,
For to the deth it wel nigh hath me feynted.
3
Bysily in my mynde I gan revolueThe welthe onsure of everye creature,
How lightly that ffortune it can dissolue,
Whan that hir lyst that it no lenger dure;
And of the brotylnesse of hyre nature,
My tremlyng hert so gretë gastnesse hadde,
That my spiritis were of my lyfë sadde.
4
Me fel to mynde how that, not long ago,ffortunës strok doun threst estaat royal
Into myscheef; and I took heed also
Of many anothir lord that had a fall;
In mene estaat eek sikernesse at all
Ne saw I noon; but I sey attë laste,
Wher sëwrte, for to abyde, hir caste.
5
Yn poore estaat sche pyght hir paviloun,To covere hire from the storm of descendyng;
For [that] sche kneew no lowere discencion,
Save oonly deth, fro which no wight lyvyng
Defendyn hym may; and thus, in my musyng,
I destitut was of joye and good hope,
And to myn esë no thyng koude I groope.
6
For right as blyvë ran it in my thought,Though I be poore, yet som what leese I may;
Than deemed I that seurëte would nought
With me abyde, it is nought to hir pay,
Ther to soiurne as sche descendë may;
And thus vnsikir of my smal lyfloode,
Thought leyd on me full many an hevy loode.
7
I thought eek, if I in-to povert creepe,Than am I entred in-to sykirnesse;
But swich seurete myght I ay wayle and weepe,
ffor poverte breedeth but hevynesse.
Allas! wher is this worldis stabilnesse?
Heer vp, heer doun; heer honour, heer repreef;
Now hool, now seek; now bounte, now myscheef.
8
And whan I haddë rolled vp and dounThis worldës stormy wawës in my mynde,
I seey weel povert was exclusïon
Of all weelfarë regnyng in mankynde;
And how in bookës thus I wryten fynde,
“The werstë kynde of wrecchednessë is,
A man to havë been weelfull or this.”
9
“Allas!” þoghte I, “what sykirnesse ys þatTo lyue ay seur of greef and of nuisaunce?
What schal I do? best is I stryuë nat
Agayne þe pays of fortunës balaunce;
ffor wele I wote, þat hir brotel constaunce,
A wyght no whilë suffer can soiourne
In a plyt; þus nat wiste I how to torne.
10
ffor whan a man weneþ stond most constant,Þan is he nextë to his ouer throwyng;
So flyttyng is sche, and so wariant,
Ther is no trust vp-on hir fair lawhyng;
After glad loue sche schapiþ hir to styng;
I was a-drad so of hir gerynesse,
That my lif was but a dedly gladnesse.”
11
Thus ilkë nyught I walwyd to and fro,Sekyng restë; but, certeynly sche
Appeerid noght, for þoght, my crewel fo,
Chaced hadde hir & slepe a-way fro me;
And for I schuldë not a-lonë be,
Agayn my luste, Wach profrid his seruise,
And I admittid hym in heuy wyse.
12
So long a nyught ne felde I neuer non,As was þat samë to my iugëment;
Who so þat thoghty is, is wo-be-gon;
Þe þoghtful wight is vessel of turment,
Þer nys no greef to him equipolent;
He graueþ deppest of seekenesses alle;
fful wo is him þat in swich thoght is falle.
13
What whyght þat inly pensif is, I trowe,His moste desire is to be solitarie;
Þat þis is soþ, in my persone I knowe,
ffor euere whil þat fretynge aduersarie
Myn hert[e] madë to hym tributarie,
In sowkynge of þe fresschest of my blod,
To sorwe soule, me thoght it dide me good.
14
ffor þe nature of heuynesse is þis:If it haboundë gretly in a wight,
Þe place eschewit he where as ioye is,
ffor ioye & he not mowe accorde a-ryght;
As discordant as day is vn-to nyught,
And honur, aduersarie is vn-to schame,
Is heuynessë so to ioye and game.
15
Whan to þe þoghtful whiȝt is tolde a tale,He heeriþ it as þogh he þennës were;
Hys heuy thoghtës hym so plukke & hale
Hyder and þedir, and hym greue & dere,
Þat hys erës auayle hym nat a pere;
He vnderstondeþ no þing what men seye,
So ben his wyttës fer gon hem to pleye.
16
Þe smert of þoght, I by experienceknowe as wel as any man doþ lyuynge;
His frosty swoot & fyry hote feruence,
And troubly dremës, drempt al in wakynge,
My mayzed heed sleeplees han of konnynge,
And wyt dispoylyd, & so me be-iapyd,
Þat after deþ ful often haue I gapid.
[HOCCLEVE'S MEETING AND DIALOGUE WITH AN OLD BEGGAR.]
17
Passe ouer whanne þis stormy nyght was gon,And day gan at my wyndowe in to prye,
I roos me vp, for bootë fonde I non
In myn vnresty bed lenger to lye;
In-to þe feld I dressed me in hye,
And in my wo, y herte-depe gan wade,
As he þat was bareyne of þoghtës glade.
18
By þat I walkyd hadde a certeine tyme,Were it an houre, I not or more or lesse,
A poore olde horë man cam walkyng by me,
And seydë, “good day, syre, & god yow blysse!”
But I no word; for my seekly distresse
ffor-bad myn eres vsen hire office,
ffor which þis olde man helde me lewed & nyce,
19
Tyl he tooke hedë to my drery chere,And to my deedly colour pale & wan;
Thanne thoghte he þus:—þis man þat I se here,
Al wrong is wrestid, by oght þat I se can:
He sterte vp to me, & seyde, “scleepys þou, man?
Awake!” & gan me schakë wonder faste,
And with a sigh I answerde attë laste.
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“A! who is þer?” “I,” quod þis oldë greye,“Am heer,” & he me toldë the manere
How he spak to me, as ye herd me seye;
“O man,” quoþ I, “for cristës louë dere,
If þat þou wolt aght done at my preyere,
As go þi way, talkë to me no more,
Þi wordës al annoyen me ful sore;
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“Voydë fro me; me list no compaignye;Encressë noght my grife; I haue I-now.”
“My sone, hast þou good lust þi sorwe drye,
And mayst releuëd be? what man art þou?
Wirke after me! it schal be for þi prow;
Þou nart but ȝong, and hast but litel seen,
And ful seelde is, þat ȝong folk wysë been.
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“If þat þe likë to ben esyd wel,As suffre me with þe to talke a whyle.
Art þou aght lettred?” “ya,” quod I, “som dele.”
“Blissed be god! þan hope I, by seint Gyle,
Þat god to þe þi wit schal reconsyle,
Which þat me þinkeþ is fer fro þe went,
Þorgh þe assent of þi greuouse turment.
(Beggar.)
“Lettered folk han gretter discrecioun,And bet conceyuë konne a mannes saw,
And raþer wole applië to resoun
And from folyë soner hem with-draw,
Þan he þat noþer reson can, ne law,
Ne lerned haþ no maner of lettrure:
Plukke vp þin herte! I hope I schal þe cure.”
(Hoccleve.)
“Curë, good man? ya, þow arte a fayre leche!Curë þi self, þat tremblest as þou gost,
ffor al þin art wole enden in þi speche;
It liþ not in þi power, porë gost,
To helë me; þou art as seek almost
As I; first on þi self kyþë þin art;
And if aght leue, late me þanne hauë part.
(Hoccleve.)
“Go forth þi way, I þe preye, or be stylle;Þou dost me more annoy þan þat þou wenest;
Þou art as ful of clap as is a mylle;
Þou dost nought heer, but greuest me & tenest.
Good man, þou woste but lytyl what þou menest;
In þe, liþe not redressë my nuysance,
And ȝit þou mayste be wele willéd perchaunce.
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“It mostë be a greter man of myghtÞan þat þou art, þat scholdë me releue.”
“What, sone myn! þou felist not a-right!
To herkene me, what schal it harme or greue?”
“Peter! good man, þogh we talke here tyl eue,
Al is in veyne; þi myght may nat atteyne
To helë me, swich is my woful peyne.”
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“What þat I may or can, ne wost þou noght;Hardyly, sonë, telle on how it is!”
“Man, at a word, it is encombrous þoght
Þat causeþ me þis sorowe & fare amys.”
“Now, sone, & if þer no þing be but þis,
Do as I schal þe seye, & þin estat
Amende I schal, but þou be obstinat,
(Beggar.)
“And wilfully rebelle & dissobeye,And liste not to my lorë the conforme;
ffor in swiche cas, what scholde I speke or seye,
Or in my bestë wysë þe enforme?
If þow it wayue, & take an oþer forme
After þi childissh mysrulëd conceyt,
Þou dost vn-to þi self, harm & deceit.
(Beggar.)
“O þing seye I, if þou go feërleesAl solytarie, & counsel lakke, & rede,
As me þinkeþ, þi gyse is doutelees,
Þou likly art to bere a dotyd heed.
Whil þou art soulë, þoght is wastyng seed,
Swich in þe, & þat in grete foysoun,
And þou redeles, nat canst voyde his poysoun.
(Beggar.)
“The boke seiþ þus,—I redde it yore agon,—‘Wo be to hym þat list to ben allone!
ffor if he fallë, helpe ne haþ he non
To rysë’; þis seye I by þi persone;
I fonde þe soul, & þi wyttës echone
ffer fro þe fled, & disparpled ful wyde;
Wherefore it semeþ, þe nediþ a gyde,
(Beggar.)
“Which þat þe may vnto þi wyttës lede;Þou graspist heer & þere, as doþ þe blynde,
And ay mys-gost; & ȝit haue I no drede,
If þou receyuë wold in-to þi mynde
My lore, & execute it, þou schalt fynde
Þere-in swiche esë, þat þi maladye
A-bregge it schal, & þi maléncolye.
(Beggar.)
“fful holsum were it, stynten of þi wo,And take vnto þe, spirit of gladnesse;
What profyt fyndest þou to mournë so?
Salamon seiþ, þat sorowe & heuynesse,
Bonës of man dryeþ by his duresse,
And hertë glad makiþ florissching age;
Þerfore I redë þou þi wo a-swage.
(Beggar.)
“He seiþ, ‘as motthës to a cloþe annoyen,And of his wollë maken it al bare,
And also as wormës a tre destruen
Þorogh hir percyng, riȝt so sorowe and care
By-reuen man his helþe & his welfare,
And his dayës a-bregge, & schorte his lyf;
lo! what profyt is for to be pensyf?
(Beggar.)
“Now, godë sonë, telle on þi greuaunce;What is þi cause of þoght in special?
Hast þou of worldly goodës hábundaunce,
And carist how þat it i-kept be schal?
Or art þou nedy, & hast nouȝt but smal,
And thristist sore a rychë man to be?
Or louest herë þat not loueþ þe?
(Beggar.)
“I haue herd seyn, in kepyng of richesseIs thoght and wo, & besy a-wayte al-way;
The pore & nedy ek haþ heuynesse,
ffor to his purpos not atteyne he may;
Þe louer also seen men day by day,
Prolle after þat, þat he schal neuer fynde;
Þus þoght turmentiþ folk in sondry kynde.
(Beggar.)
“If þou þe fele in any of þese i-greued,Or elles what, tell on, in goddës name.
Þou seest al day, þe begger is releued,
Þat sitte and beggeþ, blynd, crokyd & lame;
And whi? for he ne lettiþ, for no schame,
his harmës & his pouert to by-wreye
To folk, as þey gon by hym in þe weye.
(Beggar.)
“ffor, and he kepe hym cloos, & holde his pees,And noght out schewe how seek he inward is,
He may al day so sytten helpëlees;
And, sonë myn, alþogh he faire a-mys
Þat hydith so, god wot þe wyt is his;
But þis begger his hurtës wol not stele,
He wele telle al and more; he can nouȝt hele.
(Beggar.)
“Ryght so, if þe liste haue a remedyeOf þyn annoy þat prikkeþ þe so smerte,
The verray cause of þin hyd maladye
Þou most discouer, & telle oute al þin herte.
If þou it hydë, þou schalt not astarte
Þat þou ne fallë schalt in som myschaunce;
ffor-þi amendë þou þi gouernaunce.
(Beggar.)
“Be war of þoght, for it is perillous;He þe streight wey to discomfórt men ledeþ;
His violence is ful outragëous;
Vnwise is he þat besy þoght ne dredeþ.
In whom þat he his mortel venym schedeþ,
But if a vomyt after folwe blyue,
At þe port of despeir he may arryue.
(Beggar.)
“Sonë, swych thoghtë lurkynge þe with-ynne,Þat huntith after þi confusioun,
Hy tyme it is to voyde & late hym twynne,
And walke at largë out of þi prisoun.
Be war þe fendës sly conclusioun,
ffor if he may þe vnto déspeir brynge,
Þou mornë schalt, & lawgh he wol, & synge.
(Beggar.)
“Som man, for lak of occupacioun,Museþ forþer þanne his wyt may strecche,
And, at þe fendës instigacioun,
Dampnable errour holdeþ, & can not flecche
ffor no counseil ne reed, as dide a wrecche
Not fern agoo, whiche þat of heresye
Conuyct, and brent was vn-to ashen drye.
(Beggar.)
“The precious body of oure lorde ihesuIn forme of brede, he leued no[t] at al;
He was in no þing abassht, ne eschu
To seye it was but brede material;
He seyde, a prestës power was as smal
As a Rakérs, or swiche an oþer wiȝte,
And to mak it, hadde no gretter myȝt.
(Beggar.)
“My lorde þe princë—god him saue & blesse!—Was at his deedly castigacioun,
And of his soulë hadde grete tendernesse,
Thristyngë sorë his sauacioun:
Grete was his pitous lamentacioun,
Whan þat þis renegat not woldë blynne
Of þe stynkyng errour þat he was inne.
(Beggar.)
“This good lorde hiȝte hym to be sweche a meneTo his fader, oure ligë lorde souereyne,
If he renouncë wolde his errour clene,
And come vn-to oure good byleue ageyne,
He schulde of his lif seure ben & certeyne,
And súfficiant lyflode eek scholde he haue,
Vn-to þe day he clad were in his graue.
(Beggar.)
“Also þis nobyl prince & worþy knyght—God quyte hym his charitable labour!—
Or any stikkë kyndled were or light,
The sacrement, oure blissed saueoure,
With reuerencë grete & hye honoure
He fecchë leet, þis wrecchë to conuerte,
And make oure feiþe to synkyn in his herte.
(Beggar.)
“But al for noght, it woldë not bytyde;He heeld forþ his oppynyoun dampnáble,
And cast oure holy cristen feiþ a-syde,
As he þat was to þe fende acceptáble.
By any outward tokyn resonáble,
If he inward hadde any repentaunce,
Þat wote he, þat of no þing haþ doutaunce.
(Beggar.)
“Lat þe diuinës of hym speke & museWhere his soule is by-come, or whider gon;
Myn vnkonyng of þat me schal excuse,
Of whiche materë knowleche haue I non.
But woldë god, tho cristes foos echon,
Þat as he heeldë were I-seruëd soo,
ffor I am seur þat þer ben many moo,
(Beggar.)
“The more ruthe is: allas! what men ben þeyÞat hem delyten in swiche surquidrie?
ffor mannës reson may not preue oure fey,
Þat þey wole it dispreuen or denye.
To oure lorde god þat sytte in heuenes hye,
Schal þey desyre for to ben egal?
Nay, þat was neuer, certes, ne be schal.
(Beggar.)
“Þát oure lord god seiþ in holy scriptureMay not be fals; þis knawit euery whiȝt,
But he be mad; & þogh a creature
In his goddës werk feelë not a-ryght,
Schal he rebelle ageyn his lordës myght,
Which þat þis wydë world haþ made of noght,
ffor reson may not knytte it in his thoght?
(Beggar.)
“Was it not eek a moustre as in natureÞat god I-borë was of a virgine?
Ȝit is it soþ, þogh man be cóniecture
Of reson, or what he can ýmagine,
Not sauoure it, ne can it détermyne.
He þat al myghty is, doþ as hym lyste;
He wole his konnynge hydde be, & nat wyste.
(Beggar.)
“Oure feiþ not were vnto vs meritórieIf þat we myghten by reson it preue;
Lat vs not fro god twynnen & his glorie;
As holy chirche vs byt, lat vs be-leue;—
But we þere-to obeye, it schal vs greue
Importably; lat vs do as sche byt,
Oure goedë fadres olde han folwyd it.
(Beggar.)
“Presumpcïoun, a! benedicite!Why vexest þou folk with þi franesie?
þogh no þing ellës were, I seye for me,
But se how þat þe worþi prelacie,
And vnder hem þe suffissant clergye,
Endowyd of profound intelligence,
Of al þis land werreyen þi sentence;
(Beggar.)
“That seluë samë to me were a bridel,By whiche wolde I gouérned ben & gyed,
And ellis al my labour were in ydel.
By holy churche I wole be iustified;
To þat, al holly is myn herte applied,
And euer schal; I truste in goddës grace,
Swiche surquidrie in me schal haue no place.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Sone, if god wolë, þou art non of þoÞat wrapped ben in þis dampnacïoun?”
“I? criste forbede it, sire!” seyde I þo;
“I þanke it god, non inclinacïoun
Haue I to labour in probacïoun
Of his hy knowleche & his myghty werkys,
ffor swiche mater, vn-to my wit to derk is.
(Hoccleve.)
“Of oure feiþ wol I not despute at all;But, at a word, I in þe sacrament
Of þe auter fully bileue, & schal,
With goddës helpe, while life is to me lent;
And, in despyt of þe fendës talent,
In al oþer articles of þe feiþ
Byleue, as fer as þat holy writ seiþ.”
(Beggar.)
“Now good thrifte come vn-to þe, sonë dere!Þi gost is now a-wakyd, wel I se,
And som-what eke amendid is þi chere;
And firste I was ful sore a-gast of þe,
Lest þat þou thorgh thoght-ful aduersyte,
Not haddest standen in þi feyþe a-ryght;
Now is myn hertë waxen glad & lyght.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Hast þou in me ony gretter sauourÞan þat þou haddest first whan þou me sy,
Whan I opposyd þe of þi langour?
Seye on þe soþë.” “Ya, somdele,” quod I.
“My sone, in fayth, þat is seyde ful feyntly;
Thi sauour yit ful smal is, as I trowe;
But or oght longe, I schal þe soþë knowe.
(Beggar.)
“I wote wel, sone, of me þus wold þou þinke:—Þis oldë dotyd Grisel holte him wyse,
He weneþ maken in myn heed to synke
His lewed clap, of which set I no pryse;
He is a nobil prechour at deuyse;
Gret noyse haþ þorgh hys chynnëd lippës drye
Þis day out past, þe deuel in his eye.
(Beggar.)
“But þogh I olde & hore be, sonë myin,And porë be my clethyng & aray,
And not so wyde a gowne haue, as is þin,
So smal I-pynchid, ne so fresche and gay,
Mi redde, in happë, ȝit the perfet may;
And likly, þat þou demest for folye,
Is gretter wysdom þan þou canste espye.
(Beggar.)
“Vndir an old pore habyt, regneþ oftGrete vertu, þogh it moustre porëly;
And where as gret array is vp on loft,
Vice is but seelden hid; þat wel wote I.
But not report, I pray þe, inwardly,
Þat fresch array I generally depraue;
Þis worþi men mowe it wel vse & haue.
(Beggar.)
“But þis me þinkiþ an abusïoun,To se on walke in gownës of scarlet,
xij ȝerdës wyd, wit pendant sleues downe
On þe grounde, & þe furrour þer-in set
Amountyng vnto twenty pound or bet;
And if he for it payde haue, he no good
Haþ lefte him where-wit for to bye an hood.
(Beggar.)
“ffor þogh he iettë forth a-mong þe prees,And ouer lokë euerey porë wight,
His cofre and eke his purs ben penylees,
He haþ no morë þan he goþ in ryght.
ffor lond, rent, or catel, he may go light;
Þe weght of hem schal not so mochë peyse
As doþ his gowne: is swiche array to preyse?
(Beggar.)
“Nay sothely, sone, it is al a-mys me þinkyþ;So pore a wight his lord to counterfete
In his array, in my conceyit it stynkith.
Certes to blamë ben þe lordës grete,
If þat I durstë seyn, þat hir men lete
Vsurpë swiche a lordly apparaille,
Is not worþ, my childe, with-outen fayle.
(Beggar.)
“Som tyme, afer men myghten lordës knoweBy there array, from oþer folke; but now
A man schal stody and musen a long throwe
Whiche is whiche: o lordes, it sit to yowe
Amendë þis, for it is for youre prowe.
If twixt yow and youre men no difference
Be in array, lesse is youre reuerence.
(Beggar.)
“Also ther is another newë get,A foul wast of cloth and an excessyf;
Ther goth no lesse in a mannës tipet
Than of brood cloth a yerdë, by my lif;
Me thynkyth this a verray inductif
Vnto stelthe: ware hem of hempen lane!
ffor stelthe is medid with a chekelew bane.
(Beggar.)
“Let euere lord, his ownë men deffendeSwiche gret array, and þan, on my peryl,
This land within a whilë schal amende.
In goddys namë, putte it in exyl!
It is synnë outragïous and vyl;
Lordës, if ye your éstat and honour
Louen, fleemyth this vicius errour!
(Beggar.)
“What is a lord withouten his meynee?I puttë cas, þat his foos hym assaille
Sodenly in þe stret,—What help schal he,
Wos sleeuës encombrous so sydë traille,
Do to his lord? he may hym nat auaille;
In swych a cas he nys but a womman;
He may nat stand hym in steed of a man.
(Beggar.)
“His armys two han ryght y-now to done,And sumwhat more, his sleeuës vp to holde;
The taillours, trow I, moot heer-after soone
Shape in þe feeld; thay shal nat sprede and folde
On hir bord, thogh þei neuer só fayn wolde,
The cloth þat shal ben in a gownë wroght;
Take an hool cloth is best, for lesse is noght.
(Beggar.)
“The skynner vn-to þe feeld moot also,His hous in london is to streyt & scars
To doon his craft; sum tyme it was nat so.
O lordës, yeue vnto your men hir pars
That so doon, and aqwente hem bet with mars,
God of bataile; he loueth non array
That hurtyth manhode at preef or assay.
(Beggar.)
“Who now moost may bere on his bak at onesOf cloth and furrour, hath a fressch renoun;
He is ‘a lusty man’ clept for þe nones;
But drapers & eek skynners in þe toun,
ffor swich folk han a special orisoun
That troppid is with curses heere & there,
And ay schal, til þei paid be for hir gere.
(Beggar.)
“In dayës oldë, whan smal apparailleSuffisid vn-to hy estat or mene,
Was gret houshold wel stuffid of victaille;
But now housholdes ben ful sclender & lene,
ffor al þe good þat men may repe or glene,
Wasted is in outragëous array,
So that housholdës men nat holdë may.
(Beggar.)
“Pryde hath wel leuer bere an hungry maweTo beddë, than lakke of array outrage;
He no prys settith be mesurës lawe,
Ne takith of hym cloth[ë], mete, ne wage:
Mesure is out of londe on pylgrymage;
But I suppose he schal resorte as blyue,
ffor verray needë wol vs ther-to dryue.
(Beggar.)
“Ther may no lord tak vp no newë gyseBut þat a knauë shal þe same vp take.
If lordës wolden in þis wyse,
ffor to do swichë gownës to hem make
As men did in old tyme, I vndertake
The samë get sholde vp be take and vsid,
And al þis costelew outrage refusid.
(Beggar.)
“Of lancastre duk Iohn, whos soule in heueneI fully deme, And trustë sit ful hye—
A noble prince I may allegge & neuene,
(Other may no man of hym testifye)—
I neuer sy a lord that cowde hym gye
Bet like his éstat; al knyghtly prowesse
Was to hym girt: o god! his soulë blisse!
(Beggar.)
“His garnamentës weren noght ful wyde,And yit þei hym becam wondérly wel.
Now wold[ë] god þe waast of cloth & pryde
Y-put were in exyl perpetuel,
ffor þe good and profet vniuersel.
And lordes myght helpe al this, if þei wolde
The olde get take, and it furth vse & holde.
(Beggar.)
“Than myghtë siluer walkë morë thikkeAmong þe peple þan þat it doþ now;
Ther wold I fayne þat were y-set þe prikke,—
Nat for my self; I schal doo wel ynow,—
But, sonë, for þat swichë men as thow
That with þe world wrastlen, myght han plente
Of coyn, where as ye han now scarsetee.
(Beggar.)
“Now hath þis lord but litil neede of broomesTo swepe a-way þe filthe out of þe street,
Syn sydë sleuës of penýlees gromes
Wile it vp likkë, be it drye or weet.
O engelond! stande vp-ryght on thy feet!
So foul a wast in so symple degree
Bannysshe! or sore it schal repentë the.
(Beggar.)
“If a wight vertuous, but narwe clothid,To lordës curtës now of dayës go,
His compaignye is vn-to folkës lothid;
Men passen by hym bothë to and fro,
And scorne hym, for he is arrayed so;
To hir conceit is no wight vertuous,
But he þat of array is outrageous.
(Beggar.)
“But he that flater can, or be a baude,And by tho tweynë, fressch array him gete,
It holden is to him honur & laude.
Trouth and clennessë musten men for-gete
In lordës courtës, for they hertës frete;
They hyndren folk: fy vpon tongës trewe!
They displesaunce in lordës courtës breewe.
(Beggar.)
“Lo, sonë myn, þat tale is at an eende:Now, goodë sone, haue of me no desdeyn,
Thogh I be old, and myn array vntheende;
ffor many a yong man, wot I wel certeyn,
Of corage is so prowde and so hauteyn,
That to þe poore and old mannës doctrine,
fful seelde him deyneth bowen or enclyne.
(Beggar.)
“Senek seiþ, ‘age is an infirmiteeÞat lechë non can curë, ne it hele,
ffor to þe deþ next neghëburgh is he;
Ther may no wight þe chartre of lyf ensele,
The ende is deþ of male & of femele;
No thyng is morë certein þan deþ is,
Ne more vncertein þan þe tyme I-wis.’
(Beggar.)
“As touchyng agë, god in holy writRyght þus seiþ: ‘fader & moder honure,
Þat þou mayste be longlyued:’ þus he byt.
Þan moot it folwen vpon þis scripture,
Age is a guerdoun to a crëature,
And longlyuëd is non with-outen age;
Where-for I seye, in eld is auauntage.
(Beggar.)
“And þe reuard of god may not be smal,His ȝiftës ben ful noble & profitabil;
ffor-þi ne lakkë þou not age at al;
Whan youþe is past, is agë sesonable.
Age haþ in-sighte how vnsure & vnstable
Þis worldës cours is, by lengthe of his yeeres,
And can deffende hym from his scharpë breres.
(Beggar.)
“Lord, wheþer it be maystrie to knoweWhan a man ofte haþ sundry weyës ride
Which is þe bestë? nay, for soþe I trowe;
Right so he þat haþ many a world abyde
Þer he in youþë wroghtë mis or dyde,
His age it seeþ, & byt him it eschue,
And seekiþ weyës couenable & due.
(Beggar.)
“Whan þat þou hast assaydë boþë two,Sad age, I seye, after þi skittish youþe,
As þou must nedys atteynë ther-to,
Or steruë ȝong, þan trowe I þou wolt bowe þe
To swichë conceytës as I haue nowþe;
And þankë god deuoutly in þin herte
Þat he haþ suffred þe þi youthe asterte.
(Beggar.)
“Youthë ful smal reward hath to goodnesse,And peril dredith he non, wot I wel;
Al his deuocioun and holynesse
At tauerne is, as for þe mostë del;
To Bachus signe & to þe leuësel
His youþe him haliþ; & whan it him happiþ
To chirchë gon, of nycetë he clappiþ.
(Beggar.)
“The causë why men oghten þider gon,Nat conceyue can his wyldë steerissh heed
To folwen it. Also bote is it non
To telle it him, for thogh men sowen seed
Of vertu in a yong man, it is deed
As blyue, his rebel goost it mortifieþ;
Al þing sauf folye in a yong man dieþ.
(Beggar.)
“Whan I was yong I was ful rechëlees,Prowde, nyce, and riotous for þe maystrie,
And, among oþer, consciencëlees;
By þat sette I naght þe worþ of a flye;
And of hem haunted I þe compaignie
Þat went on pylgrymagë to tauerne,
Which be-for vnthrift beriþ þe lanterne.
(Beggar.)
“There offryd I wel morë þan my tyþe,And wit-drowe holy chirche his duëtee;
My frendës me counseylëd often siþe,
Þat I, with lownesse & humylitee,
To my curat go scholde, & make his gree;
But straw vnto hir reed! wolde I nat bowe
ffor aght þey kouden preyen all, or wowe.
(Beggar.)
“Whan folk wel rulyd dressyd hem to bedde,In tymë due by redë of nature,
To þe tauernë quykly I me spedde,
And pleyde at dees while þe nyghte wolde endure.
Þere, þe former of euery creature
Dismembred y with oþës grete, & rente
Lyme for lyme, or þat I þennës wente.
(Beggar.)
“And ofte it fals was þat I swoer or spak,ffor þe desire feruént of couetyse
ffonde in periúrie no defaute or lak,
But euer entyced me þat in al wyse
Myn oþës gretë I scholde excercyse;
And specially for lucre, in al manere
Swere and for-swere with boldë face & chere.
(Beggar.)
“But þis condicïoun, lo, hadde I euere:Þogh I prowde were in wordës or in speche,
Whan strokës cam a place, I gan disseuere
ffro my felawës; soghte I neuere leeche
ffor hurt which I there toke; what scholde I seche
A saluë, whan I þer-of hadde no nede?
I hurtlees was ay, þurgh impressyd drede.
(Beggar.)
“Tho myghte I spende an hundred mark by ȝere,Al thyng deduct, my sone, I gabbë noght;
I was so prowde, I helde no man my pere;
In pryde & leccherye was al my þoght;
No more I haddë set þerby or roght,
A wif or mayde or nunë to deffoule,
Than scheete, or pleyën at þe bal or boule.
(Beggar.)
“Ryght nycë girlës at my retenueHadde I an heep, wyuës & oþere mo;
What so þey werë, I wolde non eschue:
And yeerës felë I contynued so;
Allas! I no þing was war of þe wo
Þat folwyd me; I lookyd nat behynde;
Conceytës yongë ben ful derke & blynde.
(Beggar.)
“An office also hadde I lucratyf,An wan y-nowgh, god wot, & mochel more;
But neuer þoght I, in al my yongë lyf,
What I iniustly gat, for to restore;
Wherefore I now repentë wonder sore;
As yt mysgoten was, mys was despendid,
Of whiche oure lord god gretly was offendid.
(Beggar.)
“He sy I nolde absteenë for no goodOf myn outragëous iniquitee;
And whan þat his lust was, with-drow þe flood
Of welþe, & at grounde ebbë sette he me;
With pouert for my gylt me feffed he,
Swiche wrechë toke he for my cursyd synne;
No morë good haue I þan I stond inne.
(Beggar.)
“Gold, siluer, iewel, cloþ, beddýng, array,Ne haue I non, oþir þan þou mayste se.
Parde! þis bare olde russet is nat gay,
And in my purs so gretë sommës be,
Þat þere nys countour in al cristente
Which þat hem can at any noumbre sette;
Þat schaltow se; my purs I wole vnschete.
(Beggar.)
“Come hider to me, sone, & look whedirIn þis purs þer be any croyse or crouche,
Sauf nedel and þrede, & themel of leþer;
Here seest þow naght þat man may handil or touche;
Þe feend, men seyn, may hoppen in a pouche
Whan þat no croys þere-innë may a-pere;
And by my purs, þe same I may seye here.
(Beggar.)
“O wher is now al þe wantoun moneyeThat I was maister of, and gouernour,
Whan I knewe nat what pouert was to sey?
Now is pouert þe glas and þe merour
In whiche I se my god, my sauyour.
Or pouert cam, wiste I nat what god was;
But now I knowe, & se hym in þis glas.
(Beggar.)
“And wherë be my gounës of scarlét,Sanguyn, murreye, & blewës sadde & lighte,
Grenës also, ánd þe fayre violet,
Hors and harneys, fresche and lusty in syghte?
My wykked lyf haþ put al þis to flighte;
But certes ȝit me greueþ most of al,
My frendschipe is al clenë fro me fal.
(Beggar.)
“O while I stode in wele, I was honoured,And many on, of my compáignie glad,
And now I am mys-lokyd on & loured;
þere rekkeþ non how wo I be bystad.
O lord! þis world vnstabyl is, & vnsad,
Þis world hunuriþ nat mannës persone
ffor him self, sonë, but for good allone.
(Beggar.)
“fful soþ fynde I þe word of salomon,þat to moneie obeien allë þinges;
ffor þat my coyn & coynworþ is a-gon,
Contrarien þei my wille & my byddynges;
Þat in my welþë with here flaterynges
Helden with me what þat I wroght or seyde,
Now disobeien þey þat þanne obeyde.
(Beggar.)
“Now seyn þey þus—‘I wistë wel al-wayÞat him destroyë wolde his fool largesse;
I tolde hym so; & euer he seydë nay:’
And ȝit þey lyen, also god me blisse;
Þey me comforted ay in myn excesse,
And seyde I was a manly man with-alle:
Hire hony wordys tornen me to galle.
(Beggar.)
“God, whiche of his benyngnë curteseyeAnd of his cheerë louyng tendirnesse,
He of his synful haþ nat wele he die,
But lyuë for tamende his wykkednesse;
Hym thanke I, and his infynyt goodnesse;
His gracë likiþ þat, þorght worldly peyne,
My soule eschapë may þe fendës cheyne.
(Beggar.)
“Iob hadde an heuyer fal þan I, pardee!ffor he was clumben hyer in rychesse;
And paciently he his aduersite
Took, as þe byble berë can wytnesse;
And after-ward, god al his heuynesse
Torned to ioye; and so may he do myne,
Whan þat it lykiþ to his myght dyuyne.
(Beggar.)
“Lord, as þe lyst, ryght so þou to me do,But euer I hopë seur ben of þat place
Whiche þat þi mercy boght vs haþ vnto,
If þat vs list for to suë þi grace.
A! lord almyghty, in my lyuës space,
Of my gylt grauntë þou me répentaunce,
And þi strook take in greable souffraunce.
(Beggar.)
“I coude of youþe han talkyd more & toldeþan I haue done, but þe day passiþ swiþe,
And eke me leuer is by many folde
þy greef to knowë, whiche þat sit so ny þe.
Telle on anon, my goodë sone, and I the
Schal herken, as þou [so longe] hast done me;
And, as I can, wele I conseylë þe.”
(Hoccleve.)
“Graunt mercy, derë fadir, of youre speche;Ye han ryght wel me comforted & esyd;
And hertily I praye yowe, and byseche,
What I firste to yow spak be nat displesyd;
It rewiþ me if I yow haue disesyd,
And mekely yow byseche I of pardoun,
Me súbmittyng vn-to correccïoun.
(Hoccleve.)
“I wot wel, first whan þat I with yow mette,I was ful mad, and spak ful rudëly,
Þogh I nat sleptë, yit my spirit mette
fful angry dremës; þoght ful bysily
Vexid my goost, so þat no þing wyste I
What þat I to yow spak, or what I þoghte,
But here & þerë I my seluen soghte.
(Hoccleve.)
“I preye yow demeth noght þat in dispyitI haddë yow, for age or poueretee;
I mente it noght; but I stode in swiche plyit
Þat it was noþing likly vn-to me,
Þogh ye had knowen al my pryuete,
Þat ye myghten my greef þus han abregged
As ye han done; so sore I was aggregged.
(Hoccleve.)
“ffadir, as wisly god me saue and spede,Ye ben not he whom þat I wende han founde;
Ye ben to me ful welcome in þis nede;
I wot wel ye in hy vertu habounde.
Your wys reed, hope I, helë schal my wounde;
My day of helþe is present, as me þinkiþ;
Youre confort deepe in-to myn hertë synketh.
(Hoccleve.)
“Myn hertë seiþ þat youre beneuolence,Of reuthë meeuëd, & verray pytee
Of my wo, doþ his peyne & diligence
Me to releue of myn infirmytee.
O goodë fadir, blissed mote ye be,
Þat han swich reuthe of my woful estat,
Which wel ny was of helpë desperat.
(Hoccleve.)
“But, fadir, thogh ther be dyuersiteefful gret betwixt your excellent prudénce
And þe folyë þat regneth in me,
Yit god it wot, ful litil differénce
Is ther betwixt þe hete and þe feruénce
Of louë wich to agid folk ye haue,
And myn, al-thogh ye deeme I hem depraue.
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“ffor if þat I þe sothë schal confesse,The lak of oldë mennës cherisshynge
Is cause and ground [eke] of myn heuynesse,
And éncheson of my wofúl murnynge;
That schal ye knowe, if it be your lykynge,
Þe causë wite of myn aduersitee.”
“Þis telle on, in þe name of crist,” seyde he;
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Sauf first, or þow any forthér preceede,On tyng of þe, wite wold I, my sone;
Wher dwelles þow?”
In þe office of þe priuee seal I wone;
And wrytë þer, is my custume and wone
Vn-to þe seel, and hauë xxti yeer
And iiij, come estren, and that is neer.”
(Beggar.)
“Now sekir, sonë, that is a fair tyme;The token is goode of thy continuance.
Come hidir, goode, and sitte a-doun heer by me,
ffor I mot rest awhile, it is my penance;
To me thus longë walke, it doth nusance
Vnto my crookid feeble lymës olde,
That ben so stif, vnnethe I may hem folde.”
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
Whan I was set adon, as he me prayede,“Telle on,” seyde he, “how is it with þe, how?”
An I began my tale, and þus I seyde:—
“My ligë lord, þe kyng wich þat is now,
I fyndë to me gracïous ynow;
God yelde him! he haþ for my long seruise
Guer-douned me in couenable wyse.
(Hoccleve.)
“In thé schequér, he of his special grace,Hath to me grauntid an annuitee
Of xxti mark, while I haue lyuës space.
Mighte I ay paid ben of þat duëtee,
It schuldë stondë wel ynow with me;
But paiëment is hard to gete adayes;
And þat me put in many foule affrayes.
(Hoccleve.)
“It goht ful streite and scharp or I it haue;If I seur were of it be satisfiëd
ffro yeer to yeer, than, so god me saue,
My deepë rootid grief were remediëd
Souffissantly; but how I schal be gyëd
Heer-after, whan þat I no lenger serue,
This heuyeth me, so þat I wel ny sterue.
(Hoccleve.)
“ffor syn þat I now, in myn agë grene,And beyng in court, with gretë peyne vnneth
Am paid; in elde, and out of court, I weene
My purs for þat may be a ferthyng shethe.
Lo, fader myn, þis dullith me to deth;
Now god helpe al! for but he me socoure,
My futur yeerës lik ben to be soure.
(Hoccleve.)
“Seruyse, I wot wel, is non heritage;Whan I am out of court an oþer day,
As I mot, whan vpon me hastiþ age,
And þat no lengere I labourë may,
Vn-to my porë cote, it is no nay,
I mote me drawe, & my fortune abyde,
And suffre storm after þe mery tyde.
(Hoccleve.)
“Þere preue I schal þe mutabiliteeOf þis wrechéd worldës affeccioun,
Which, whan þat youthe is past, begynneþ flee.
ffrendchipe, a dieu! farwel, dileccïoun!
Age is put out of youre proteccioun;
His loke vnlusty, & his impotence,
Qwenchiþ youre loue & youre beneuolence.
(Hoccleve.)
“That after-clap, in my myndë so deepeY-fycched is, & haþ swich roote y-caght,
Þat al my ioye & myrthe is leyde to slepe;
My schip is wel ney with dispeir y-fraght.
Þey þat nat konnë lerned be ne taght
By swiche ensaumples, smerte as þey han seen,
Me þinkeþ, certes, ouer blyndë been.
(Hoccleve.)
“Allas! I se reuthe & pitée exiledOut of þis land; allas, compassïoun!
Whan schol ye þre to vs be reconsiled?
Youre absence is my greuous passïoun;
Resorte, I preye yow, to þis regioun;
O, come ageyn! þe lak of your presénce
Manaceþ me to sterue in indigence.
(Hoccleve.)
“O fekil world! allas, þi variaunce!How many a gentilman may men nowe se,
Þat whilom in þe werrës olde of fraunce,
Honured were, & holde in grete cheerte
ffor hire prowesse in armës, & plente
Of frendës hadde in youþe, & now, for schame,
Allas! hir frendeschipe is crokéd & lame.
(Hoccleve.)
“Now age vnourne a-wey puttéþ fauoúr,Þat floury youþe in his seson conquerde;
Now al forgete is þe manly laboúr
Þorgh whiche ful oftë þey hire foos afferde;
Now be þo worþi men bet with þe yerde
Of nede, allas! & non haþ of hem routhe;
Pyte, I trowe, is beried, by my trouþe.
(Hoccleve.)
“If sche be deed, god haue hire soule, I preye;And so schal mo hereafter preye, I trowe.
He þat pretendiþ him of most nobley,
If he hire lakkë, schal wel wyte & knowe
Þat crueltee, hire foo, may but a throwe
Hym suffre for to lyue in any welþe;
Hertë petous, to body & soule is helþe.
(Hoccleve.)
“Ye oldë men of armës þat han knoweBy syghte & by report hire worþynesse,
Lat nat mescheef tho men thus ouer-throwe!
Kythe vp-on hem youre manly gentillesse!
Ye yongë men þat entre in-to prowesse
Of armes, eek youre fadres olde hunurith;
Helpe hem your self, or sum good hem procurith!
(Hoccleve.)
“Knyghthode, awakë! þou slepist to longe;Thy brothir, se, ny dyeth for myschief;
A-wake, and rewe vp-on his peynës stronge!
If þou heer-after come vn-to swych pref,
Thow wolt ful sorë triste after releef;
Þou art nat seur what that ye schal be-fall:
Welth is ful slipir, be ware lest þou fall!
(Hoccleve.)
“Þou þat yclomben art in hy honoures,And hast þis worldës welth at thy deuys,
And bathist now in youthës lusty floures,
Be war, rede I! þou standist on þe ys:
It hath ben seen, as weleful and as wys
As þou, han slide: and þou þat no pitee
On othir folk hast, who schal rewe on þe?
(Hoccleve.)
“Leeuë me wel, þer is non erthly manÞat hath so stable a welth, but þat it
May failë, do he what þat he do kan:
God, as hym list, visitith folk, & smyt.
Wher-fore I deme and hold it grace & wit,
In hy estat, man, god and himself knowe,
And releeue hem þat myscheef hath doun throwe.
(Hoccleve.)
“God willë þat þe nedy be releeued;It is on of þe werkës of mercy;
And syn tho men þat ben in armës preeued,
Ben in-to pouert fallë, trewëly
Ye men of armës oghten specialy
Helpe hem: allas! han ye no pitous blood
That may yow stirë for to do hem good?
(Hoccleve.)
“O now in ernest, derë fadir mynThis worthi men to me þe mirour shewe
Of sliper frenchipe, and vn-to what fyn
I drawë schal with-in a yeerës fewe,
Vp-on þis woful thoght I hakke & hewe,
And musë so, that vn-to lite I madde,
And leuer dyë þan lyuén I hadde.
(Hoccleve.)
“In faith, fadir, my lyflodë, by-sideThainuittee of which aboue I tolde,
May nat exceedë yeerly in no tyde
Vj mark; þat sittiþ to myn herte so colde,
Whan þat I look abouten, and byholde
How scars it is, if þat that othir faille,
That I nat gladdë can, but murne & waille.
(Hoccleve.)
“And as ferforth, as I can deeme or gesse,Whan I at homë dwell in my poore cote,
I fyndë schal as frendly slipirnesse
As tho men now doon, whos frendeschipe is rote.
Nat wold I rekke as mochel as a mote,
Thogh I no more hadde of yeerly encrees,
So that I myght ay paiëd be doutlees.
(Hoccleve.)
“Two partes of my lif, & mochil more,I seur am, past ben; I ne doute it noght;
And if þat I schold in my yeerës hore
ffor-go my duëtee, that I haue boght
With my flessh and my blode, þat heuy thoght
Which I drede ay, schal fal, as I it thynke;
Me hasteth blyue vn-to my pittës brynke.
(Hoccleve.)
“ffaylyng, fadir, myn annuite,ffoot hoot in me crepith disese and wo;
ffor þei þat han by-forë knowen me,
ffaillyngë good, me failë wole also.
Who no good hath, is fer his frendës fro;
In muk is al þis worldës frendlyhede;
My goost is wrappëd in an heuy drede.
(Hoccleve.)
“If þat I hadde of custume, or þis tyme,lyued in indigences wrechednesse,
The lesse heerafter schuld it sit by me;
But in myn agë wrastle with hardenesse,
That with hym stroglid neuere in grennesse
Of youthë, þat mutacïon and chaunge
An othir day me seemë shulde al straunge.
(Hoccleve.)
“He þat neuere knewe þe swetnesse of wele,Thogh he it lakke ay, lesse hym greue it schal,
Than hym þat hath ben weleful yeerës fele,
And in effect hath felt no greef at al.
O pouert! god me sheldë fro thy fal!
O deth! thy strok yit is more agreáble
To me, þan lyue a lyf so miseráble.
(Hoccleve.)
“VI marc, yeerly, and no more þan þat,ffadir, to me, me thynkyth is ful lyte,
Consideryng, how þat I am nat
In housbondryë, lerned worth a myte;
Scarsely cowde I charre a-way þe kyte
That me bireuë woldë my pullaille;
And more axith housbondly gouernaylle.
(Hoccleve.)
“With plow can I nat medlen, ne with harwe,Ne wot nat what lond, good is for what corne;
And for to lade a cart or fille a barwe,—
To which I neuer vsed vas to-forne,—
My bak vnbuxum hath swich thyng forsworne,
At instance of writyng, his Werreyour,
That stowpyng hath hym spilt with his labour.
(Hoccleve.)
“Many men, fadir, wenen þat writyngeNo trauaile is; þei hold it but a game:
Aart hath no foo but swich folk vnkonynge:
But who so list disport hym in þat same,
Let hym continue, and he schal fynd it grame;
It is wel gretter labour þan it seemeth;
Þe blyndë man of coloures al wrong deemeth.
(Hoccleve.)
“A writer mot thre thyngës to hym knytte,And in tho may be no disseuerance;
Mynde, ee, and hand, non may fro othir flitte,
But in hem mot be ioynt continuance.
The mynde al hoole with-outen variance
On þe ee and hand awaytë moot alway,
And þei two eek on hym; it is no nay.
(Hoccleve.)
“Who so schal wrytë, may nat holde a taleWith hym and hym, ne syngë this ne that;
But al his wittës hoolë, grete and smale,
Ther must appere, and halden hem ther-at;
And syn, he spekë may, ne syngë nat,
But bothë two he nedës moot forbere,
Hir labour to hym is þe alengere.
(Hoccleve.)
“This artificers, se I day be day,In þe hotteste of al hir bysynesse
Talken and syng, and makë game and play,
And forth hir labour passith with gladnesse;
But we labour in trauaillous stilnesse;
We stowpe and stare vp-on þe shepës skyn,
And keepë muste our song and wordës in.
(Hoccleve.)
“Wrytyng also doth grete annoyës thre,Of which ful fewë folkës taken heede
Sauf we oure self; and thisë, lo, þei be:
Stomak is on, whom stowpyng out of dreede
Annoyeth soore; and to our bakkës, neede
Mot it be greuous; and þe thrid, our yen,
Vp-on þe whytë mochel sorwe dryen.
(Hoccleve.)
“What man þat thre & twenti yeere and moreIn wryting hath continued, as haue I,
I dar wel seyn it smerteth hym ful sore
In euere veyne and place of his body;
And yen moost it greeueth trewëly
Of any crafte þat man can ymagyne:
ffadir, in feth, it spilt hath wel ny myne.
(Hoccleve.)
“Lo, fadir, tolde haue I yow þe substanceOf al my greef, so as þat I can telle;
But wel I wot it hath bene gret penance
To yow with me so longë for to dwelle;
I am right sikir it hath ben an helle,
Yow for to herken me þus iangle & clappe,
So lewdly in my termës I me wrappe.
(Hoccleve.)
“But nathëlees, truste I, your pacïenceReceyuë wole in gree my wordës all;
And what mys-seyd I haue, of negligence,
Ye wole it lete asidë slippe and fall.
My fadir dere, vn-to your grace I call;
Ye wote my grief; now redeth me þe best,
With-outen whom my goost can han no reste.”
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Now, sonë myn, hast þou al seid and spokeÞat þé good likyth?”
Vnlokke it blyue! com of; what seist þou?”
Þan I beforë spoken haue and sayd.”
(Beggar.)
“Conceyued haue I, þat þou gret fere haastOf pouert, for to fallen in þe snare;
Thow haast þer-innë caght so deep a taast,
Þat of al ioyë þou art voide & bare;
Þou ny dispeirëd art of al wele-fare,
And þe strook of pouert art þou fer fro;
ffor shamë! why makest þou al this wo?
(Beggar.)
“I put cas,—as god þer-fro þe keepe!—Þou were y-fall in indigent pouert;
Suldest þou grucche, and thyn annoy by-weepe?
Nay! be þou riche or poore, or seke or quert,
God thank alway, of thyn ese and þi smert;
Prydë þe noght for no prosperitee,
Ne heuye þe for non aduersite.
(Beggar.)
“Pouert hath in himself ynow greuance,With-outen þat that man more him purcháce;
Who-so it taketh in pacient suffraunce,
It is ful plesant beforn cristës face;
And whoso gruchith, forfetith þat grace
That he schuld han, if þat his pacïence
Withstoode þe grief, and made it résistence.
(Beggar.)
“My sone, as witnessith holy scripture,Discreet and honest pouert manyfold
Commendid is; crist himself, I þe insure,
To loue and teche and prechen it hath wold.
He did al þis; be þou neuer so bold,
A-gayn pouert heer-after grucche, I rede;
ffor forther-more in holy wryt I rede;
(Beggar.)
“Beholde þe lyf [eek] of our sauëour,Right fro the tyme of his natiuite
Vn-to his deth, as þat seith myn Auctour,
And tokne in it schal þou non fynde or se,
Bot of pouert, with which content was he.
Is man better than god? schal man eschewe
Swych lyf, syn god þat samë wolde ay swe?
(Beggar.)
“ffy! it is to gret an abusioun,To seen a man, þat is but wormës mete,
Desire richés, and gret possessioun,
Wher as our lord god wold hym entremete
Of no richés; he deynëd it nat gete;
He lyued poorëly, and pouert chees,
Þat myghte han ben ful riche; it is no lees.
(Beggar.)
“The poorë man slepith ful sikirlyOn nyghtës, thogh his dorë be noght shit,
Wher-as þe riche, a-beddë bisily
Casteth and ymagineth in his wit,
That necessarie vnto him is it
Barrës and lokkës strongë for to haue,
His goed from theeuës for to keep & saue.
(Beggar.)
“And when þe deed sleep fallith attë lasteOn hym, he dremeth theeuës comen in,
And on his cofres knokke, & leye on faste,
And some hem pykë with a sotil gyn,
And vp is broken, lok, hasp, barre & pyn;
And in, þe hande goth, and þe bagge out takiþ;
ffor sorwe of which, out of his slepe he wakiþ;
(Beggar.)
“And vp he rysith, foot and hand tremblyng,As þat assailed hym þe parlësye;
And at a stirt, withouten tarying,
Vn-to his cofre he dressith hym in hye;
Or he there come, he is in poynte to dye;
He it vndoth, and opneth, for to se
If þat his falsë goddës ther-in be:
(Beggar.)
“He dredith fynde it as þat he hath drempt.This worldës power ánd riche hábundance,
Of drede of peryl neuere ben exempt;
But in pouert is ay sikir constance:
Who holdith hym content, hath sufficiance.
And sonë, by my rede þou schalt do so,
And by desir of good nat sette a slo.
(Beggar.)
“Wilful pouért in princes ancïenSo ferforth was, þat þey desired more
Good loos þan good; bot now-of-dayes, men
Yerne and desiren after muk so sore,
Þat they good fame han leyd a watir yore,
And rekken neuer how longe it þer stipe,
Or thogh it drenchë, so þei good may grype.
(Beggar.)
“Of Siȝilë whilom þer was a kyngWith erthen wessel serued at his table;
And men, wondryng faste vpon this thyng
Seyd vn-to hym, it was nat honurable
To his estat, ne nothyng comendable,
Axynge hym why hym list be serued so;
To which demandë he answerdë tho:
(Beggar.)
“He seyd: ‘thogh I kyng be of siȝilë,A potter was my fadir, is no nay;
How long I schal induren, or what while
In my prosperitee, nat knowe I may:
ffortunës variance I drede alway;
Ryght as sche madë me to clymbe on highte
Sodenly, so sche may me make alighte.
(Beggar.)
“‘I thynke alway of my natiuitee,And of my poorë lenage & my blode;
Erthen vessél, to swich a man as me
fful sittyng is, and acceptable & good.’
O, fewë ben ther now left of þe brood
That he cam of; he loued bet profyt
Commun, than his a-vantage or delyte.
(Beggar.)
“How seystow by affrýcan Scipion?—Affrican clept, for þat he affryk wan;—
To pouert hadde he swych affeccïoun,
Of his ownë free wil & lust, þat whan
He dyed, no good had þis worthy man,
Wher-with his body in the erthë brynge,
But þe común cost made his enterynge.
(Beggar.)
“Be-forn þe senat was he bore on hondeOnes, after he affrik wonnen hadde,
That he was riche, as þey cowde vnderstonde,
Of gold: to which, with wordes sobre and sadde,
Answerde he þus: ‘thogh I be feble & badde,
The sooth is, vnto youre subieccïoun
I gat Affrik; of þat haue I renoun.
(Beggar.)
“‘My namë was al þat I therë gat;To wynne honour was only þe purpos
Whiche þat I took, or þat I cam ther-at;
Othir good hadde I non þan richë loos;
ffor al þe good there was, opne or cloos,
Myn hertë myghtë nat so wel content,
As þe renoun only, þat I ther hent.’
(Beggar.)
“Of coueytise he was no þing coupáble,He settë nat þer by, þou mayst wel se.
ffy on þe! gredynes insaciable,
Of many a man, þat can nat content be
Of muk, al thogh neuer so moch haue he!
The kynde is euere of wreched couetyse,
To coueyte ay, and haue, and nat suffyse.
(Beggar.)
“I wold, [that] euery knyght dide now þe same,And were of good no morë coueytous
Than he was: what! to gete a noble fame,
To knyghthode is tresór most precïous;
But I was neuere so auenterous,
Renoun to wynnë by swerdës conquest,
ffor I was bred in á pesible nest.
(Beggar.)
“Vpon my bak come neuere haburgeoun,Ne my knyf drew I neuere in violence;
I may nat contrefetë Scipion
In armës, ne his worthi excellence
Of wilful pouert; but of indigence
I am as riche as was euere any man,
Suffre it in pacience if þat I can.
(Beggar.)
“No richer am I þan þou maïst se;Of myne haue I no thyng to takë to;
I lyue of almesse. if it stood with þe
So streyte, and lyuedest as þat I do,
I se þou woldest sorowe swychë two
As I; but þou haast for to lyuen on
A poore lyf; and swych ne haue I non.
(Beggar.)
“Salamon yaf conseil, men shulden preyeTwo thyngës vn-to god, in soothfastenesse:
Now herkne, sone, he bad men þus to seye:
‘Enhancë þou me, lord, to no richesse,
Ne by misérie me so sore oppresse,
That needë for to beggë me compelle:’
In his prouerbës þus, lo! can he telle.
(Beggar.)
“But þis pouert menë conseiled heMen to desyr, þat was necéssarye
To foode and clooth, dredyng lest plentee
Of good hem myghtë makë to miscarie,
And fro the knowlegyng of god to varie;
And lest smert needë made hem god reneye:
Now be war, sonë, lest þat þou folye.
(Beggar.)
“Sone, in þis menë pouert holde I þe,Sauf þat þou canst nat taken it ful weel.
What thogh þou lesë þin annuytee,
Yit mayst þou leuen on þat othir del,
Thogh nat ful delecate schal be þi meel.
Of vj marc yeerly, mete & drinke & clooth
Thow getë mayst, my child, with-outen oth.”
(Hoccleve.)
“Ya, fadir myn, I am nat so perfiteTo take it so; I haue had hábundance
Of welfare ay; and now stond in þe plite
Of scarsetee, it were a gret penance
ffor me: god scheldë me fro þat strait chance!
Vj marc yeerly, to scars is to sustene
The charges þat I haue, as þat I wene.
(Hoccleve.)
“Tow on my distaf haue I for to spynne,Morë, my fadir, þan ye wot of yit,
Which ye schal know, or þat I fro yow twynne,
Yf your good lust be for to heren it;
But, for as moche as it nat to me sit,
Your talë for to interrupte or breke,
Here-after to yow wil I þer-of speke.
(Hoccleve.)
“Yit o worde, fader; I haue herd men seyn,Who-so no good hath, þat he can no good;
And þat fynde I, a plat sooth and a pleyn;
ffor al-thogh that myn heed, vndir myn hood,
Was neuere wys, yit while it with me stood,
So þat I had siluer resonable,
My litil wytte was sumwhat couenable.
(Hoccleve.)
“But now, for that I haue but a lyte,And lykly am heer-aftir to han lesse,
My dul wit can to me no-thyng profyte;
I am so drad of monyës scantnesse,
That myn hert is al nakid of lightnesse.
Wisseth me how to gete a golden salue;
And what I haue, I wele it with yow halue.”
(Beggar.)
“Sone, as for me, nouthir avaunte ne rere;But if disese algatës schal bityde,
ffor to be pacïent, rede I thow leere;
ffor any thyng, with-holde hir on þi side;
My reed wole it nat, sonë, fro the hide;
Make of necessite, reed I, vertu;
ffor better rede can I non, by Ihesu.
(Beggar.)
“My sonë, they þat swymmen in richesseContinuelly, and han prosperitee,
And neuere han felt but welëful swetnesse,
Vnscourgid ay of any aduersitee,
Leest god forgete hem, oughten ferdful be;
Syn god in holy writ seith in þis wyse,
‘Whom so I loue, hym wole I chastyse.’
(Beggar.)
“Seint Ambroses legendë seith, how heOnes to Romë-ward took his viage,
And in Tuscië, tóward þat contree,
With a riche ost he took his herbergage;
Of whom, as blyuë fair in his langage,
Of his estate enqueren he be-gan;
And vnto þat, answerde anon this man:
(Beggar.)
“‘Right at my lust haue I al worldely welth;Myn estat hath ben ay good, and yit is;
Richesse haue I, frendschipe, and bodyes helth;
Was neuere thynge me happid yit amys.’
And seint Ambrose, astonëd sore of this,
Anon right rowned to his compaignye,
‘Sires, it is tyme þat we hennës hye;
(Beggar.)
“‘I am adrad, god is nat in þis place;Go we fast hennës, lest þat hys vengeance
ffal on vs!’ and with-in a litel space
After they were agone, schop this myschance;
The groundë claue and made disseuerance,
And in sank man, womman, childe, hous, & al
That to hym appertened, gret and smal.
(Beggar.)
“Whan þis come to Ambroses audience,He seidë to his felacheepë þus:—
‘Lo, bretheren! seeth heer in éxperience,
How merciáblely our lord Ihesus
Of his benyngë grace hath sparid vs!
He sparith hem that vnwelthy heer ben,
And to þe velthy dooth as þat ye seen.’
(Beggar.)
“This lyf, my sone, is but a chirie faire;Worldly riches, haue ay in þi memórye,
Schal passe, al look it neuer on men so feire;
Whil þou art heer in þis world transitórie,
Enable þe to wynne eternel glorie
Wher no pouert is, but perfite richesse
Of ioye and blysse, and vertuous gladnesse.
(Beggar.)
“O thyng tel I þe, sonë, þat is soth:Thogh a man hadde als moch as men han al,
But vertu, þat good gye, al he mys dooth,
Al þat swetnessë tournë schal to gal.
Whan þat richesse is on a man yfal,
If it be wrong dispendid or mys-kept,
Another day ful sore it schal be wept.
(Beggar.)
“Sum riche is large, and his good mys despendithIn mayntenance of syn and harlotrie;
To swich despenses his lust hym accendith;
And on þat othir parte, his nygardie
Suffrith hys neghtburgh by hym sterue & dye,
Rathir þan with a ferthyng hym releeue:
Tho two condicïons ben to repreue.
(Beggar.)
“Whoso moost hath, he moost of schal answere;On day schal comë, sum men schal par chaunce
Desire he neuere haddë ben rychere
Than heer han hadde his barë sustinaunce.
Whan þe day comth of ire and of vengeaunce,
Than schal men see, how in þis world, I gesse,
Richesse is pouert, and pouért richesse.
(Beggar.)
“Whyl er, my sonë, tolde I naght to þeWhat hábundance in youth I hadde of good,
And how me blentë so prosperitee,
Þat what god was, y nothing vnderstood?
But ay whil þat I in my welthë stood,
After my flesshly lust my lif I ledde,
And of his wrechë no þing I me dredde.
(Beggar.)
“And as I seid, he smot me with þe strookOf pouert, in which I contynue yit,
Whos smert my good blood first so sorë sook,
Or þat I was acqueyntid wel with it,
Þat nye it haddë refte fro me my wit;
But sithen, thanke I god, in pacïence
I haue it take, and schal, for myn offence.
(Beggar.)
“If þe list fle, þat may pouert engendre,ffirst synne eschue, and god honoure & drede;
Also, for þi lyflode is scars and sclendre,
Despendë nat to largëly, I rede.
Mesure is good; let hir þe gye and lede;
Be war of outrage, and be sobre & wys;
Þus þou excludë hym, by myn avys.
(Beggar.)
“Nathëlees þou maist ágeyn me replie,‘To sum folk, thogh þei doon al as I seye,
Agayn pouert it is no remedye;
Þei mow it nat eschuë by no waye.’
I grauntë wel, but þan take heede, I preye,
The iugëmentȝ of god ben to vs hid;
Take al in gree, so is þi vertu kyd.
(Beggar.)
“To þe plesaunce of god þou þe conforme,Aboutë þat be bisy and éntentif;
Þat þou mis-done hast, þou blyue it reforme;
Swych laborer þe kythe heere in þis lyf,
Þat god þi soulë, which þat is his wyf,
Reioisë may, for it is to him due,
And his schal be, but þou þe deuors sue.
(Beggar.)
“O þou, fortunë, fals and deceyuáble!fful soþ it is, if þou do a good deede,
Þu nat purpósist it schal be duráble;
Of good ententë schal it nat procede.
Wel oghte vs þi promesses blyndë drede;
He sliperly stant who þat þou enhauncest,
ffor sodeynlichë þou hym disauauncest.
(Beggar.)
“Hadde I done, sonë, as I þe consayle,Whan þat fortunës déceyuáble cheere
Lawhid on me, þan hadde I nat, sanȝ fayle,
Ben in þis wrecched plyt as þu seest heere.
Not knew my ȝouthe hir chaungeable maneere;
ffor whan I satte on hy vp-on hir wheel,
Hir gladsum look me madë truste hire wel.
(Beggar.)
“I cowdë for no þing han wend or deemedÞat sche a-boutë baar dowble visage;
I wende sche haddë ben swiche as sche semed.
But nathëles, ȝit is it auantage
To him þat woful is, þat hir vsage
Is for to flyttë fro placë to place;
Hire variance is vn-to sum folke grace.
(Beggar.)
“Whom so þat nedë greueþ & trauaylliþ,Hire change is vn-to hym no grief or wo;
But þe contrárie of þat no þing auaylliþ,
As whan a man is wel, put hym þerfro.
What schal men calle hir? frende, or ellys fo?
I not; but call hire frend, whan þat sche esiþ,
And calle hir fo, whan þat sche man displesiþ.
(Beggar.)
“But who so calle hir schal a sikir name?Men mote hir clepe ‘my lady chaungeabil,’
ffor hardily sche is þat seluë same;
A! nay! I gabbe, I am vn-resonabil;
Sche is ‘my lady stidëfast and stabil,’
ffor I endure in pouertës distresse,
And sche nat liste remuë my duresse.
(Beggar.)
“I ymagynë whi þat nat hir listWith me now dele; age is colde & drye;
And whan þo two ben to a lady wist,
And þat I poore am eek for þe maystrie,
Swiche a man is vnlusty to hire ye,
And wers to gropë: straw for impotence!
Sche loueþ yong folk, & large of dyspence.
(Beggar.)
“Al þis þat I haue of fortunë seyde,Is but a iapë, who seith, or a knak:
Now I a whilë bourdyd haue & pleyde,
Resorte I wol to that þat I first spake.
By-holde, & cast þou þine yë a-bak,
What þou god hast a-gilt in tymë past,
Correct it, and to do so eft be a-gast.
(Beggar.)
“Of holy chirche, my sonë, I conceyueAs ȝit ne hast þou non a-vancëment:
Ye courteours, ful often ye deceyue
Youre soulës, for þe désirous talént
Ye han to good; & for þat þou art brent
With couetysë now, par auenture
Only for muk, þou ȝernest soulës cure.
(Beggar.)
“fful many men knowe I, þat gane and gapeAfter som fat & richë benefice;
Chirche or prouendre vnneþe hem may eschape,
But þei as blyue it henten vp and trice:
God graunté þei accepte hem for þe office,
And noght for þe profet þat by hem hongeþ,
ffor þat conceytë nat to prestehode longeþ.
(Beggar.)
“A-dayës now, my sone, as men may se,O chirche vn-to a man may not suffise;
But algate he mote han pluralite,
Elles he can not lyuen in no wyse.
Ententifly he kepiþ his seruise
In courte; his labour þerë schal not moule;
But to his curë lokiþ he ful foule.
(Beggar.)
“Thogh þat his chauncel roof be al to-torn,And on þe hye auter it reyne or snewe,
He rekkiþ noght, þe cost may be for-born
Cristes hous tó repare or makë newe;
And þogh þer be ful many a vicious hewe
Vnder his cure, he takiþ of it no kepe,
He rekkeþ neuer how rusty ben his schepe.
(Beggar.)
“The oynëment of holy sermonyngeHym loþ is vp-on hem for to despende;
Som person is so threde-bare of konnynge
Þat he can noght, þogh he hym wys pretende,
And he þat can, may not his hertë bende
Þer-to, but from his cure he hym absentiþ,
And what þer-of comeþ, gredyliche he hentith.
(Beggar.)
“How he despendiþ it, be as be may,ffor vn-to þat am I no-þing pryuee;
But wel I wot, as nycë, fressh, and gay
Som of hem ben, as borel folkës be,
And þat vnsittynge is to hire degree;
Hem hoghtë to be mirours of sadnesse,
And wayuë iolitee and wantonnesse.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“But neuerþeles I wote wel þere-agayn,Þat many of hem gye hem as hem oghte,
And ellës were it grete pitee certayn:
But what man wolt þou be for hym þe boghte?”
(Hoccl.) “ffadir, I may not chese; I whilom þoghte
Han ben a prest; now past am I þe raas.”
(Beg.) “Þan art þou, sone, a weddid man per caas?”
(Hoccleve.)
“Ya, soþly, fadir myn, ryght so I am.I gasyd longë firste, & waytid faste
After some benefice; and whan non cam,
By proces I me weddid attë laste;
And god it wot, it sorë me agaste
To byndë me, where I was at my large;
But done it was; I toke on me þat charge.”
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“A, sone! I haue espied, and now seÞis is þe tow þat þou speke of ryght now.”
“Now, by þe rodë, fadir, soþ seyn ye.”
“Ya, sonë myn, þou schalt do wel y-now;
Whan endyd is my talë, þan schalt þou
Be put in swiche a way at schal þe plese,
And to þin hertë do comforte and ese.
(Beggar.)
“So longe as þou, sone, in þe priuë selDwelt hast, & woldest fayn han ben auaunced
Vn-to som chirche or þis, I demë wel
Þat god not woldë hauë þe enhanced
In no swich plyt; I holdë þe wel chaunced;
God wot and knowith euery hyd entente;
He, for þi best, a wyf vn-to þe sente.
(Beggar.)
“If þat þou haddest per cas ben a prest,Þou woldest han as wantonly þe gyëd
As doþ þe nycest of hem þat þou seest;
And god for-beedë þou þe haddist tyëd
Þer-to, but if þin hertë myght han plyëd
ffor to obserue it wel! be glade and merye,
Þat þou art as thou art, god þanke and herie!
(Beggar.)
“Þe ordres of prestehode and of wedlokBen boþë vertuous, with-outen fabil;
But vnderstondë wel, þe holy ȝok
Of prestehode is, as it is resonabil
Þat it so be, þe morë commendabil;
Þe lesse of hem, of mede haþ hábundance;
Men han meryt, after here gouernaunce.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“But how ben þi felawës lokyd toAt hoom? ben þey not wel benéficëd?”
“Ȝis, fadir, ȝis! þer is on clept ‘nemo’;
He helpeþ hem; by hym ben þei chericëd:
Nere he, þey weren porëly cheuycëd;
He hem auanceth; he ful hir frende is;
Sauf only hym, þey han but fewë frendes.
(Hoccleve.)
“So many a man as þei þis many a yeerHan writen for, ȝit fyndë can þei non
So gentel, or of hir estat so cheer,
Þat onys liste for hem to ryde or gon,
Ne for hem speke a worde; but dombe as ston
Þei standen, where hir speche hem myght awayle;
ffor swiche folk is vnlusty to trauaile.
(Hoccleve.)
“But if a wyght hauë any cause to sueTo vs, som lordës man schal vndertake
To sue it out; & þat þat is vs due
ffor oure labour, hym deyneþ vs nat take;
He seiþ, his lord to þanke vs wole he make;
It touchiþ hym, it is a man of his;
Where þe reuers of þat, god wot, sooþ is.
(Hoccleve.)
“His letter he takiþ, and forþ goþ his way,And byddeþ vs to dowten vs no-thyng
His lord schal þanken vs an oþer day;
And if we han to suë to þe kyng,
His lord may þerë haue al his askyng;
We schal be sped, as fer as þat oure bille
Wole specifie þe éffecte of our wylle.
(Hoccleve.)
“What schol we do? we dar non argumentMake a-geyn him, but fayre & wel him trete,
Leste he roporte amys, & make vs schent;
To haue his wil, we suffren him, & lete;
Hard is, be holden suspect with þe grete:
His talë schal he leeuëd, but nat ourys,
And þat conclusïoun to vs ful soure is.
(Hoccleve.)
“And whan þe mater is to ende I-broght,Of þe straunger, for whom þe suyte haþ be,
Þan is he to þe lord knowén right noght;
He is to him as vn-knowén as we;
Þe lord not wot of al þis sotilte;
Ne we nat dar lete him of it to knowe,
Lest oure compleynte oure seluen ouerthrowe.
(Hoccleve.)
“And where þis bribour haþ no peny payedIn oure office, he seiþ be-hynde our bak,
‘He payde, I not what’: þus ben we bytrayed,
And disclaundrid, and put in wyte and lak,
fful giltëles; & eeke by swiche a knak
Þe man for whom þe suyte is, is deceyuëd,
He weneþ we han of his gold receyuëd.
(Hoccleve.)
“fful many swychë púrsuours þere ben,Þat for vs take, & ȝeue vs nat a myte:
Þis makiþ vs þat we may neuer þeen.
Eek where as lordës bydde hir men vs quyte,
Whan þat we for hemself laboure and write,
And ben a-lowëd for oure payëment,
Oure handes þer-of ben ful Innocent.
(Hoccleve.)
“I seyë nat, al lordes men þus doÞat sue vnto oure court; but many, I seye,
Han þus don oftë. lo! my fadir, lo!
Þus bothe oure þanke & lucre gon a-weye:
God ȝeue hem sorowe þat so with vs pleye!
ffor we it fynden ernest at þe fulle;
Þis makyth vs of oure labóur to dulle.
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“Now, fadir myn, how þinkiþ yow here-by?Suppose ye not þat þis sittiþ vs sore?”
“Yis, certes, sonë, þat ful wel wote I;
Hast þou seyde, sonë? wolt þou aght sey more?”
“Nay, sir, as now; but ay vp-on your lore
I herkne as bisily as I best can.”
“Sonë, þan lat vs spek as we by-gan:
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Seye on þe soþe, I preye þe hertily,What was þi causë why þou toke a wyf?
Was it to getë children lawfully,
And in clennessë to ledë þy lyf;
Or, for luste, or muk? what was þi motyf?”
“ffadir, no thyng wole I it queyntë make:
Only for loue, I chees hire to my make.”
(Beggar.)
“Sonë, qwat holdest þóu loue, I þe preye?Þow demest lust and loue conuertible,
Per cas; as whan þe list with þi wyf pleye,
Þi conceyt holdeþ it good and lisible
To doon; art þou oght, sonë myn, sensible
In whiche cas þat þou oghtest the for-bere,
And in whiche nat? canst þou to þis answere?”
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“ffadir, me þinkeþ al is good y-nowe;She is my wyf; who may þer-of me lette?”
“Nay, sone, a-byde; & I shal tellen how,
If þat þou aght by goddës dredë sette,
Thre causes ben, whiche I þe wole vnschette
And open a-non, whi þou schalt with hire dele;
Now herkne, sonë, for þi soulës hele.
(Beggar.)
Þe firstë causë, procreacïounOf children is, vn-to goddës honour;
To kepe eke thè fro fornicacïoun;
Þe next is, & þe thridde, of þat labour
Yildë þi dette in whiche þou art dettour
Vnto þi wyf; & othire ententes al,
Ley hem apart, for aght þat may be-fal.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“ffor þisë causes thow hire vsë muste;And for non othir, on peyne of dedly synne.”
“ffadir, right now me thoghte, how a-geyn luste
Ye helden, & children be goten therinne
Where is no luste!” “o sone, or þat me a-twynne,
Þou shalt wel vnderstondë how þat I
Not holde agaynës luste al vttirly.
(Beggar.)
“I wote wel, leefful luste is necessarie;With-outen þat, may be non engendrure;
But vsë luste for luste only, contrarie
To goddës hestës is; for I thensure,
Þogh þou take of it litel heede or cure,
A man may wyth his wyf do lecherie:
The entente is al; be war ay of folye.
(Beggar.)
“Weddë folk many leden holy lyf;flor þogh hire flesschly lustës hem assaile,
And stire hem often, þe man to þe wif,
And she to him; þei maken swiche batail
And strif a-gayn hir flesche, þat he shal fail.
Of his purpos; but somë folke, as beestes
Hire luste ay folwen; in hem non areeste is.
(Beggar.)
“A-dayës now þer is swyche gouernaunceAmong hem þat han paramours & wyues
Þat, for luste of hire wommen & plesaunce,
Nat suffice hem metës restauratyues,
But þei receyuen eeke prouocatyues
Tengendre hem luste, feyntyng hire nature,
And suche þing causiþ hastyf sepulture.
(Beggar.)
“Þis knowe I soþ is, & knew it fern a-gon,And thei þat so don, hyli god offende:
Swich folk holde I homicidës echon;
Þei slen hemself, or god deþ to hem sende.
Mi sone, on goddës half I þe defende
Swiche medycynës þat þou noght receyue,
Syn þei god wraþ, & soule of man deceyue.
(Beggar.)
“Pas ouer þis: þou seydest þenchesounWhy þat þou took vp-on þè maryage,
Was vn-to non oþer entencïoun,
But loue only þe sentë þat corage:
Now, sonë myn, I am a man of age,
And many wedded couples haue I knowe,—
Non of myn agë, many mo, I trowe,—
(Beggar.)
“But I ne sawe, ne I ne spydë neuer,As longe as þat I hauë lyued ȝit,
Þe loue of hem departen or disseuere
Þat for goode louë bounden were & knyt;
God loueþ loue, & he wole forþere it.
At longë rennyng, louë beste schal preue;
Þus haþ it ben, & ay schal, I bileue.
(Beggar.)
“But þey þat marien hem for muk & goodOnly, & noght for loue of þe persóne,
Not haue I wist þey any whylë stood
In restë; but of stryf is þere swiche wone,
As for þe morë part, twixt hem echone,
Þat al hir lyf þei lede in heuynesse:
Swich is þe fruyte to weddë for rychesse.
(Beggar.)
“Among þe ryche also is an vsage,Eche of hem his childe vn-to oþres wedde,
Þogh þei be al to yong & tendre of age,
No-wher my ripe ynow to go to bedde;
And hire conceyt in loue is leyde to wedde,
Men wit it wel, it is no questïoun,
Tyl yeerës come of hire discrecioun.
(Beggar.)
“And whan þei han þe knoweleche of resoun,Þan may þei noþer fynden in hire herte
To louë oþer; al out of sesoun
Þei knyt ben, þat in-tó wedlók so sterte:
Þis makeþ many a couple for to smerte.
O couetyse! þin is al þe gilt
Of þis; & mo deceyuë ȝit þow wilt.
(Beggar.)
“Also þey þat for luste chesen hir makeOnly, as oþer while it is vsage,
Wayte wel, þat whan hir luste is ouerschake,
And þere-with wole hir louës hete asswage,
Þanne is to hem an helle, hire mariage
Þanne þei desyren for to be vnknyt,
And to þat ende studie in al hir wyt.
(Beggar.)
“Styntynge þe cause, þe éffect styntiþ eek;No lenger forster, no lenger lemman;
Loue on lust groundid, is not worþ a lek.
But who for vertu weddeþ a womman,
And noþer for muk ne for lust, þat man
Þe formë due of matrimoignë sueþ,
And soulës hurt & bodyes grief eschueþ.
(Beggar.)
“I dar not medle of lordes mariágis,How þey hem knytten, hir makës vnseen;
But as to me it semeþ swiche vságe is
Not worþ a strawe; for, also mot I theen,
Reportës not so sikyr iuges ben,
As man to se þe womannës persóne;
In whiche a choys, lat man hymself allone.
(Beggar.)
“Weddyng at hoom in þis land, holsom were,So þat a man hym weddë duëly;
To se þe flesche firste, it may no þing dere,
And hym avisë how hym lykiþ þer-by
Or he be knyt; lo! þis conceyt haue I;
In þis materë depper cowde I go,
But passe I wole, & slippe away þer-fro.
(Beggar.)
“Now sythen þou hast, to my Iugëment,Þe maryëd vn-to goddës plesaunce,
Be a trewe housbounde, as by myn assent;
kepë þi bond; be war of þencombraunce
Of þe feend, which, with many a circumstaunce
fful sly, him castiþ þë wrappe in & wrye,
To stirë þe for to done aduoutre.
(Beggar.)
“Aduoutrie and periurie, and wylful slaghtre,Þe book seiþ, lik ben, & o peys þei weye.
War aduoutre! it is no pleye or laghtre
To don it; fle also þise oþer tweye!
ffor þus wot I wel, seint Ierom can seye:
‘In peyne, aduoutre haþ þe secounde place.’
Þo þre to eschue, god þe grauntë grace!
(Beggar.)
“I, in þe bible, rede how þat abramGenesis xijo. Cum que prope esset ut ingrediretur Egiptum, dixit Saray vxori sue, “Noui quod pulcra sis mulier, & quod cum te viderunt Egipcii, dicturi sunt, ‘vxor illius es,’ & interficient me, & te reseruabunt; dic ergo, obsecro, quod soror mea sis, vt bene sit mihi propter te, & viuat anima mea ob graciam tui,” &c.
To Egipt wentë, with his wyf saray,
And whan þat þei ny vn-to Egipt cam,
Þus seyde he vnto his wyf by þe way:
‘I wote wel þou art fair; it is no nay;
Whan þei of Egipt se þe, þei wol seye,
“Þou art his wyf,” & for þe, do me deye.
(Beggar.)
“‘Thei welen kyllë me and þe reserue;ffor-þi, vnto hem seye, I þe be-seche,
Þou art my sustre, leste I for þe sterue;
Þus may I wel ben esyd by þi speche;
And þus þou mayste lengþë my lyf & eche.’
And whan þei into Egipt entred were,
Þe gipcïans fastë behelden here,
(Beggar.)
“And of hire beaute maden þei reportTo pharäo; & sche as blyue is take
In-to his hous; & done is gret comfort
Vnto Abram, for þis wommanës sake;
And grete desport and cherë men hem make.
But for saray, greuously pharäo
Punysshyd was, & eke his hous þerto.
(Beggar.)
“Pharäo clepte abram, & hym abreyde:‘What is it þat þou hast don vn-to me?
‘Why naddest þou tolde vn-to me,’ he seyde,
‘How þat þis womman, wyf was vnto the?
ffor what enchesoun seydestow,’ quod he,
‘Sche was þy suster? takë þi wyf here,’
Quod he, ‘and boþë go youre wey in fere!’
(Beggar.)
“The bible makiþ no manér of myndeWheþer þat pharäo lay by hire oght;
But looke in lyre, & þerë schalt þou fynde,
ffor to han done it, was he in ful þoght;
But god preserued hire; he myghtë noght;
And sethyn, for wil, god hym punissched so,
How schal þe dedë vnpunýsshed go?
(Beggar.)
“Also not knewe he þat a wif sche was.Now þannë, þey þat wyuës wetyngly
Takyn and holde, and with hem don trespas,
Stonde in harde plyt; sonë, be ware, rede I;
If þou þere-inne agylte, eternelly
Þou smertë schalt, & in þis lif presént
Han scharp aduersitee & gret turment.
(Beggar.)
“And to abymalech, god bade he shuldeȜildë sara also to hir housbonde;
ffor he and his, echon, if he ne wolde,
Shulden ben dede, he did hem vndirstonde.
Take heede, o sonë, þat þou clere ay stonde,
ffor god stoppid eke the concepcioun
Of euery woman of his mancioun.
(Beggar.)
“Ne þat she was a wif, wist he no þing;Ne nogh hir knew in no flesshly folye.
My godë sonë, rede of dauid kyng,
How he bersabe toke, wyf of vrie,
Into his house, and did aduout[e]rie;
And how he made vrië slayne to be,
And how þer-forë punysshed was he.
(Beggar.)
“How was þe tribe also of beniamynPunysshid, & put to destruccioun,
ffor aduoutr[i]ë which þei lyued inne,
In þe abhomynable oppressioun
Of þe leuytës wyfe: lo! mencioun
Þer-of is made, if þou loke holy writte,
In iudicium, ful redily it syt.
(Beggar.)
“Who-so lith with his neyghëburës wyfeIs cursyd; & who is any aduoutoure,
Þe kyngdome faillë shal of endles lyfe;
Of þat ne shal he be no póssessoure.
Alasse! this likerous dampnáble errour,
In this londe hath so large a þrede I-sponne,
Þat wers peple is non vndir the sonne.
(Beggar.)
“Of swichë stories cowde I telle an heepe,But I supposë þisë schol suffise;
And for-þi, sonë, wole I make a leepe
ffrom hem, and go wole I to þe empryse
Þat I first took; if þu þe wel auyse,
Whanne I þe mette, & sy þin heuynesse,
Of comfort, sonë, made I þe promesse:
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“And of a trewë man, be-heste is dette.”“ffader, god ȝilde it ȝow, and so ȝe diden;
Ye hyghten me in esë me to sette.”
“Now, sone, & þogh I longë haue abiden,
Thi gryfe is noght out of my myndë slyden;
To þi greuancë wole I now resorte,
And schewë þe how þou þe schalt comforte.
(Beggar.)
“In schort, þis is of þi grief énchesoun:Of þin annuitee, þe paiëment,
Whiche for þi long seruyse is þi guerdoun,
Þou dredest, whan þou art from court absent,
Schal be restreynëd, syn þou now present
Vnneþës mayst it gete, it is so streit;
Þus vnder-stode I, sonë, þi conceit;
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“ffor of þi liflode is it þe substaunce;Is it nat þus?” “Ȝis, sooþly, fader, it.”
“Now, sone, to remedïe þis greuánce,
Canstow no weyës fynden in þi wyt?”
“No, certes, fader, neuere koude I ȝit.’
“May no lordschepë, sonë, þe auayle,
ffor al þi long seruice & þi trauaile?”
(Hoccleve.)
“What, fadir? what? lordës han for to doneSo mych for hem-self, þat my mateere
Out of hir myndë slippith away soone.
The world is naght swich now, my fadir deere,
As ye han seene; farwel, frendely maneere!
So go[d] me amende, I am al destitut
Of my lyflodë; god be my refut!
(Hoccleve.)
“I am vn-to so streyt a poynt ydryue,Of thre conclusïons moot I cheese one:
Or begge, or stele, or sterue; I am yschryue
So ny, þat oþer way ne se I noon.
Myn hert is also deed as is a stoon;
Nay, ther I faile, a stoon no thyng ne felith;
But thoght me brenneth, and freesyngly keelith
(Hoccleve.)
“To beggë, schame is myn impediment;I wot wel, rather schulde I die and sterue;
And steltlës guerdon is swich paiëment,
Þat neuer thynke I his wages disserue.
Wolde honest deth come, and me ouerterue,
And of my grauë me put in seisyne,
To al my greef þat were a medecyne.”
(Beggar.)
“What, sone! how now? I se, wel smal effecte,Or ellës non, my wordës in thè take;
Outhir ful symple is þin intellect,
Or hokirly thow hast hem ouershake,
Or þi goost slept hath; what, my sone! a-wake!
Whyl er þou seydist þou were of me glad,
And now it semeth þou art of me sad.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“I demë so, syn þat my longe sermounProfitith naght, it sorë me repentith.”
“ffadir, beth nat of þat opynyoun;
ffor as ye wele I do, myn hert assentith;
But ay among, fadir, thoght me tormentith
So sharply, ánd so trowblith and dispeireth,
That it my wit foule hyndryth and appeireth.”
(Beggar.)
“O my good sonë, wolt þou yit algateDespeirëd be? nay, sonë, lat be þat!
Þou schalt as blyue entre in-to þe yate
Of þi comfort. now telle on pleyn and plat:
My lord þe princë, knowyth he þe nat?
If þat þou stonde in his beneuolence,
He may be salue vn-to þin indigence.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“No man bet, next his fadir, our lord lige.”“Yis, fadir, he is my good gracious lord.”
“Wel, sonë, þan wole I me oblige,—
And god of heuen vouch I to record,—
Þat if þou wolt be ful of myn accord,
Thow schalt no cause haue morë þus to muse,
But heuynessë voide, and it refuse.
(Beggar.)
“Syn he þi good lord is, I am ful seurHis gracë to þe schal nat be denyed;
Þou wost wele, he benyng is and demeur
To sue vnto; naght is his goost maistried
With daunger, but his hert is ful applied
To graunte, and nat þe needy werne his grace;
To hym pursue, and þi releef purchace.
(Beggar.)
“Compleyne vnto his excellent noblesse,As I haue herd þe vn-to me compleyne;
And but he qwenche þi gretë heuynesse,
My tongë take, and slitte in peeces tweyne.
What, sonë myn! for goddës derë peyne,
Endite in frensch or latyn þi greef clere,
And, for to write it wel, do thi poweer.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Of allë thre þou oghtist be wele leerid,Syn þou so long in hem labóurëd haast,
Þou of þe pryue seel art old I-yeerid.”
“Yit, fadir, of hem ful smal is my taast.”
“Now, sonë, þan, foulë hast þou in waast
Despent þi tyme; and nathelees, I trowe
Þou canst do bet þan þou wilt do me knowe.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“What schal I callë þe? what is þi name?”“Hoccleuë, fadir myn, men clepen me.”
“Hoccleuë, sone?” “I-wis, fadir, þat same.”
“Sone, I haue herd, or this, men speke of þe;
Þou were aqueynted with Caucher, pardee—
God haue his soulë best of any wyght!—
Sone, I wole holdë þe þat I haue hyght.
(Beggar.)
“Al-thogh þou seyë þat þou in latyn,Ne in frenssh nowther, canst but smal endite,
In englyssh tongë canst þou wel afyn,
ffor ther-of can I eekë but a lite;
Ye straw! let be! þi pennë take, and write
As þou canst, and þi sorowe tourne schal
Into gladnesse; I doute it naght at al.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Syn þou maist nat be paied in thescheqer,Vnto my lord þe princë make instance
Þat þi patent in-to þe hanaper
May chaunged be.” “fadir, by your suffrance,
It may not so, bi-cause of þe ordenance;
‘Longe aftir þis schal no grant chargeable
Out passe;’ fadir myn, this is no fable.”
(Beggar.)
“An egal change, my sonë, is in sootheNo charge, I wot it wel ynow in dede.
What, sonë myn! good hert take vnto þe!
Men seyn, who-so of euery grace hath drede,
Let hym beware to walk in any mede.
Assay! assay! þou simple-hertid goost!
What grace is shapen þe, þou naght ne woost.”
(Hoccleve.)
“ffadir, as siker as I standë here,Whethir þat I be simple, or argh or bolde,
Swych an eschangë get I non to yeere;
Do as I can, with þat I haue in holde;
ffor, as for þat, my comfort is but cold;
But wel I fyndë your good wyl alway
Redy to me, in what ye can and may.”
(Beggar.)
“That is sooth, sonë; now, syn þou me toldistMy lord þe princë is good lord þe to,
No maistri is it for þe, if þou woldist
To be releeuëd; wost þou what to do?
Writtë to hym a goodly tale or two,
On which he may desporten hym by nyghte,
And his fre gracë schal vp-on þe lighte.
(Beggar.)
“Sharpë thi penne, and write on lustily;Lat se, my sonë, make it fresh and gay,
Outë thyn art if þou canst craftily;
His hyë prudence hath insighte verray
To iuge if it be wel y-made or nay;
Wher-forë, sone, it is vn-to the neede,
Vn-to þi werk, takë þe gretter heede.
(Beggar.)
“But of a thyng be wel waar in al wise,On flaterië þat þou þe nat founde;
ffor þer-of, sonë, Salamon þe wise,—
As þat I haue in his prouerbës found,—
Seith thus: ‘thei þat in feynëd speche habounde,
And glosyngly vnto hir freendës talke,
Spreden a net bi-forne hem wher they walke.’
(Beggar.)
“If a deceyuour yeue a man to sowkeWordës plesant, in hony al by-wrappid,
Good is a man eschewë swich a powke;
Thurgh fauel haþ ful many a man mys-happid;
ffor when þat he hath ianglid al and clappid
With his freend, tretyng of pees openly,
He in a-wayt lith of hym couertly.
(Beggar.)
“Þe mostë lak þat han þe lordës grete,Is of hem that hir soothës shuld hem telle;
Al in þe glosë folk labour and swete;
Thei stryuen who best ryngë shal þe belle
Of fals plesance, in þat hir hertës swelle
If þat oon can bet than othér deceyue;
And swich deceyt, lordës blyndly receyue.
(Beggar.)
“The worldly richë men, han no knowlecheWhat þat thei bene of hir condicioun;
Thei ben so blent with fauellës gay speche,
Wich réportith to hem, þat hir renoun
Is euerywherë halwid in the toun,
That in hem-self they demen gret vertu,
Where as þer is but smal or naght a gru,
(Beggar.)
“ffor vnneth á good word men speke of hem:This falsë tresoun comon is and rif;
Bet were it the ben at ierusalem,
Sonë, þan þou were in it defectif.
Syn my lord þe prynce is, god help his lyf,
To thè good lord, good seruant þou þe quyte
To him, and trewe, and it shal the profyte.
(Beggar and Hoccleve.)
“Write him no thyng þat sowneth in-to vice;Kythë thi loue in matere of sadnesse;
looke if þou fyndë canst any tretice
Groundid on his estatës holsumnesse;
Swych thing translate, and vnto his hynesse,
As humblely as þat þou canst, present;
Do thus my sone.” “fadir, I assent.
(Hoccleve.)
“With hert as tremblyng as þe leef of aspe,ffadir, syn ye me redë to do so,
Of my symple conceyt wole I the claspe
Vndo, and lat it at his largë go.
But weylaway! so is myn hertë wo,
That þe honour of englyssh tonge is deed,
Of which I wont was han consail and reed.
(Hoccleve.)
“O, maister deere, and fadir reuerent!Mi maister Chaucer, flour of eloquence,
Mirour of fructuous entendëment,
O, vniuersel fadir in science!
Allas! þat þou thyn excellent prudence,
In þi bed mortel mightist naght by-qwethe;
What eiled deth? allas! whi wolde he sle the?
(Hoccleve.)
“O deth! þou didest naght harme singuleer,In slaghtere of him; but al þis land it smertith;
But nathëlees, yit hast þou no power
His namë sle; his hy vertu astertith
Vnslayn fro þe, which ay vs lyfly hertyth,
With bookës of his ornat éndytyng,
That is to al þis land enlumynyng.
(Hoccleve.)
“Hast þou nat eeke my maister Gower slayn,Whos vertu I am insufficïent
ffor to descreyue? I wote wel in certayn,
ffor to sleen al þis world þou haast yment;
But syn our lorde Crist was obedient
To þe, in feith I can no ferther seye;
His creäturës mosten þe obeye.
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“ffadir, ye may lawhe at my lewdë speche.If þat þow list; I am no thyng fourmeel;
My yongë konyng may no hyer reche,
Mi wit is also slipir as an eel;
But how I speke, algate I menë weel.”
“Sone, þou seist wel I-nogh, as me seometh,
Non oothir feele I, so my cónceyt demeth.
(Beggar.)
“Now, farwel, sone! go homë to þi mete,It is hy tyme; and go wil I to myn;
And what I haue y-seid þe, naght forgete;
And swych as þat I am, sone, I am thyn.
Thow seest wel, age hath put me to declyne,
And pouert hath me maad of good al bare;
I may naght but preyë for þi welfare.”
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“What, fadir? wolden ye thus sodeynlyDepart fro me? Petir! crist, for-beede!
Ye shal go dynë with me, trewëly.”
“Sone, at a word, I moot go fro þe neede.”
“Nay, fadir, nay!” “Yis, sone, as god me speede!”
“Now, fadir, syn it may non othir tyde,
Almyghty god yow saue, and he your gyde!
(Hoccleve and Beggar.)
“And grautë gracë me þat day to se,That I sumwhat may quytë your goodnesse.
But, goodë fadir, whan and wher schul ye
And I efte metë?” “Sone, in soothfastnesse,
I euery day heere at þe Carmes messe,
It faileth naght o-boute þe hour of seuene.”
“Wel, fadir, god bytake I yow, of heuene!”
(Hoccleve.)
Recordyng in my myndë þe lessounThat he me yaf, I hoom to metë wente;
And on þe morowe sette I me adoun,
And penne and ynke and parchemyn I hente,
And to performe his wil and his entente
I took corage, and whiles it was hoot,
Vn-to my lord the princë thus I wroot:—
[HOCCLEVE'S “REGEMENT” FOR HENRY V. WHEN PRINCE OF WALES.]
289
Hyë and noblë princë excellent,My lord the prince, o my lord gracïous,
I, humble seruaunt and obedient
Vnto your éstate hye & glorious,
Of whiche I am full tendir & full ielous,
Me recomaunde vnto your worthynesse,
With hert entier, and spirite of mekenesse.
290
Right humbly axyng of you [the] licence,That with my penne I may to you declare
(So as that kan my wittës innocence,)
Myne inward wille that thursteth the welefare
Of your persone; and ellës be I bare
Of blisse, whan þat the coldë stroke of deth
My lyfe hath quenched, & me byraft my breth.
291
Though that my livelode and possessionBe skant, I riche am of beneuolence;
To you therof kan I be no nygon:
Goode haue I none, by whiche your excellence
May plesëd be; &, for myne impotence
Stoppeth the way to do as I were holde,
I write as he þat your goode lyfë faynë wolde.
292
Aréstotle, most famous Philosofre,His Epistles to Alisaundre sent,
Whos sentence is wel bette than gold in cofre,
And more holsomer grounded to trewe entent:
For all þat euer tho Epistles ment,
To settë was þis worthy Conquerour,
In reulë, how to sústene his honour.
293
The tendir loue, and the feruént chierteeThat this worthy clerk ay to this kyng bere,
Trustyng his welthë durable to be,
Vnto his hert[è] stak and satte so nere,
That by writýng his counseill yave he clere
Vnto his lord, to kepe hym fro myschaunce,
As witnesseth his booke of gouernaunce.
294
Of which, and [eek] of Gyles of regymentOf princes, plotmel thynke I to translate.
And thogh that senple be my sentëment,
O worthi prince, I yow biseeche al-gate
Considerith, how endityng hath in hate
Mi dul conceyt, and nat accordë may
With my childhode; I am so childissh ay.
295
Also byseeche I that þe altitudeOf your estate—þogh þat þis pamfilet
Non ordre holdë, ne in him include—
Nat greuëd be, for I can do no bet.
Anothir day, whan wit & I be met,
Which longe is to, and han vs freenly kist,
Descouere I wole, thát now is nat wist.
296
Nathëles, swich as is my smal konyng,Withal so treewe an herte, I wole it oute,
As þo two dide, or euere Clerc lyfynge;
But tremblyng is my spirit out of doute,
That to performë þat I am a-boute;
Allas! þe stuf of sad intelligence
Me faillith, to speke in so hy presence.
297
Simple is my goost, and scars my letterure,Vnto your excellencë for to write
Myn inward loue, and yit in áuenture
Wyle I me puttë, thogh I can but lyte.
Mi derë maistir—god his soulë quyte!—
And fadir, Chaucer, fayn wolde han me taght;
But I was dul, and lernèd lite or naght.
298
Allas! my worthi maister honorable,This landës verray tresor and richesse,
Deth, by thi deth, hath harme irreparable
Vnto vs doon; hir vengeable duresse
Despoilèd hath þis land of þe swetnesse
Of rethorik; for vn-to Tullius
Was neuer man so lyk a-mongës vs.
299
Also, who was hiër in philosophieTo Aristotle, in our tonge, but thow?
The steppës of virgile in poesie
Thow filwedist eeke, men wot wel y-now.
That combre-world, þat þe, my maistir, slow,
Wold I slayn were! deth was to hastyf
To renne on þe, and reuë the thi lyf.
300
Deth hath but smal consideracïounVnto þe vertuous, I haue espied,
No more, as shewith þe probacïoun,
Than to a vicious maistir losel tried;
A-mong an heep, euery man is maistried;
With hire, as wel þe porre as is þe riche;
lered and lewde eeke standen al y-liche.
301
She myghte han taried hir vengeance awhile,Til that sum man had egal to thè be.
Nay, lat be þat! sche knew wel þat þis yle
May neuer man forth bryngë lyk to the,
And hir officë needës do mot she;
God bad hir so, I truste as for thi beste;
O maister, maister, god þi soule reste!
302
Now to my matere, as that I began:There is a booke, Iacob de Cessoles,
Of þe ordre of Prechours, made, a worthy man,
That “the Chesse moralisèd” cleped is,
In which I purpose eke to laboure y-wis,
And here & there, as that my litell witte
Afforthë may, I thynkë tránslate it.
303
And al be it that in that placë squareOf the lystës, I mane þe eschekere,
A man may lernë to be wise & ware,
I, that haue auentured many a yere,
My witte there-in is but litill the nere,
Save that somwhat I knowe a kyngës draught;
Of other draughtës, lerned haue I naught.
304
And, for that among the draughtës euerychoneThat vnto þe chessë appertenë may,
Is none so nedëfull vnto your persone
To knowe, as that of the cheertë verray
That I haue hade vnto your noblesse ay,
And shall, yf your plesaunce it be to here,
A kyngës draught, reporte I shall now here.
305
I am sure that the bookës allë thre,Redde hath & seen your Innat sapience;
And, as I hope, her vertues folwen ye;
But vnto you compile I this sentence,
That, at the goode luste of your excellence,
In short ye may behold and rede
That in hem thre is skatered ferre in brede.
306
And álthough it be no manér of nedeYow to counseilë what to done or leve,
Yf þat you liste of stories to take hede,
Somwhat it may profitë, by your leve:
At hardest, when þat ye ben in Chambre at eve,
They ben goodë to drivë forth the nyght;
They shull not harme, yf þey be herd a-right.
307
To your hyenessë, thynke it not to longe,Though in that draught I somwhat wadë deepe;
The thewës vertuous that to it longe
Wacchen my gost, & letten him to slepe.
Now God in vertu mayntene you and kepe!
And I besechë your magnificence,
Yeve vnto me benignë audience.
308
For though I to the steppes clergyallOf thisë clerkës thre [may] not atteyne,
Yit, for to putte in prees my cónceyte small
Goode wille me arteth take on me the peyne;
But sorë in me quappeth euery veyne,
So dredefull am I of myne ignoraunce;
The crosse of criste me spedë and auaunce!
309
Now, gracious prince, agayn that the coroneHonoure you shall with roial dignitee,
Beseche I hym that sitte on hye in trone,
That, when þat chargë réceyued han ye,
Swych gouernancë men may feele and se
In yow, as may ben vn-to his plesance,
Profet to vs, and your good loos avance.
[§ 1. ON THE DIGNITY OF A KING.]
310
ffirst and foreward, the dignitee of kyngImpressid be in the botme of your mynde,
Consideryng how chargeable a thyng
That ofice is; for so ye schul it fynde.
Vn-to good reulë ye yow knytte and bynde;
Of goddës wrechë haue ay drede and awe;
Do right to grete and smale, and keepë lawe.
311
Onës þer was a kyng, as I haue rad,Whan his coronë was vn-to hym broght,
Or he it tok, in thoght he stood al sad,
And þus he seidë, after he had thoght:
“O þou corone, noble and faire y-wroght,
What man that þe receyueth or admittith,
More esë þan he weneth from hym flittith.
312
Who-so þe peril know, and charge and fereThat is in the, thogh þou at therthe lay,
He woldë noght the vp areyse or rere,
But lat þe lyë stille, and go his way.
ffor sooth is þis, and hath & schal ben ay,
This worldës hook, enuye hath to his bayt,
And ay hath hye degree sore in a-wayt.”
313
Now, noble princë, thogh I be nat wys,Wel-willed am I, as I first yow tolde;
In þe name of ihesu, wirke after þe auys
That I compyle oute of this auctours olde.
And if I nat the wey of reson holde,
ffolwe me nat; and if þat I do, thenne
Do as I schal reportë with my penne.
[§ 2 ON A KING'S KEEPING HIS CORONATION OATHS; AND ON TRUTH AND CAUTIOUS SPEECH.]
314
Tho othës that at your creacïounShul thurgh your tongë passe, hem wel obserue;
Lat no colóurëd excusacïoun
Yow makë fro hem slippe aside or swerue;
Holde vp hir lyf, lat hem nat in yow sterue;
It is nat knyghtly from an oth to varie;
A kyng of trouth, oweth bene exemplarie.
315
Lo! thus this Aristotle in his book seithTo Alisandre, and to be war hym bit,
That he ne breke his bondës ne his feith,
ffor vn-to folke vntrewë longith it;
He seith þat gracë nat in hym abit,
But wikked ende and cursid áuenture
Hym folowith, that forswere hym hath no cure.
316
By feith, is maad the congregacïounOf peple, and of citès enhabitynge;
By feith, han kyngës dominacïoun;
ffeith causith eek of men þe comunynge;
Castelx, by feith, dreden non ássailynge,
By feith, þe Citees standen vnwerréyed,
And kyngës of hir sogetȝ ben obeyed.
317
Who leeseth feith, gretter thyng may non leese.Or a man speke, or bynde hym by his sel,
And hath his ful libérte, and may cheese
What he do schal, hym oghte auyse hym wel
Or he promette; and heetë naght a deel
By word ne bond, but if he wole it laste;
ffor who so dooth, schal smerten at þe laste.
318
Litel encheson haþ he for to speke,To whos wordës is ȝeuen no credence:
Perillous is, a man his feith to breke.
ffeith, by necessite ne indigence
Naght artid is: disceyt, & apparence
Of trouthe outward, and inward fikilnesse,
Bulteth out schame, and causeþ gret smartnesse.
319
What was þe cause of þe destruccïounOf þe peple of Scites & of Arabiee,
But for hir kyngës, in decepcioun
Of men and Citees nyh to hir contre,
Hir othis vseden, by sotilte
Brekyngë bondës þat stablisshed were
Mankynde to profitë, and not to dere?
320
And for þat synnë, goddës riȝtwisnesse,That punnysshith falshood and trecherie,
Nat myghte hem suffre endure in þat woodnesse;
But þey destroyed were, it is no lye.
Vntrouthe, allas! þe ordre of chyualrie
Dampneth it; thogh þat þe persone it vse,
Knyghthode itself mot algate it refuse.
321
To god truste I, no lord in al þis londIs gilty of þat inconuenience;
ffy! what? a lord breke his byheste or bond?
Nay, god forbedë þat that pestilence
In a lord dwelle, or holdë residence;
ffor if þat he that wicked geste recette,
By suche a lorde wole honour no thing sette.
322
Whan Marcus Regulus was, as I rede,Venqwisshèd in a bataile of þe see
By hem of Cartage, hoom wiþ hem þey lede
This prisoner; and aftir, sent was he
By hem to Romë, his ownë contre,
Sworn to retournë to Cartage ageyn,
As tullius And eek seint Austyn seyn.
323
The causë whi þey hym to Romë sente,Was for to do to Romayns hir message,
Wityng of hem, if þat þey wolde Assente,
That, syn ther werë Romayns in cartage
In prisoun, and Romayns hadde eek in cage
Cartagiens, suffre hem at largë goo,
And þe Romayns go schulden [fre] also.
324
Whan Marcus doon hadde as þat he was bode,The senat axid hym what was his reed;
And he answerde, and seidë þus for gode:—
“Al þis, rede I, lat slepen, & ben deed;
It may by no way sinke in-to myn heed,
That to vs Romayns were it couenable,
Swiche an eschaungë; but vnprofitable.
325
“We Romayns þat þey han in prison loke,Ben but ȝonge froth, vnlernëd in batayle,
And othir feble folk with age I-broke,
Of whiche I am on; we may nat availe;
Of vs no losse is; but with-outen faile,
Ȝoure prisoners ben myghty men and wyse,
And folk in armës preeuëd at deuyse.”
326
His freendës wolde han holde hym stillë there,But thei nat myghte; he wolde alwey retourne;
To breke his oth, his goost was ay in fere;
He þoghte noght in his contre soiourne.
Do qwat hem list, whether thei glade or mourne,
Vnto his foos as bliuë he hym dressith,
And knewe wel to be deed, the book witnéssith.
327
He held it bette his oth for to obserue,And dye in honur, as þat a knyght oghte,
Than by periúrie his lif for to preserue;
Of suche vnknyghtly trikkës he nat roghte.
I trowë now-a-dayës, thogh men soghte,
His heir ful hard were in þis land to fynde;
Men list not so ferforth to trouthe hem bynde.
328
Ȝit nat only to preyse is this Marcusffor trouthë, but eek, as it semeth me,
His renoun oghtë doubled ben, as þus—
Where as theschangë myghte han maad hym fre,
Qwit of his foos prisoun, gretter cheerte
He hadde of the profet vníuersel
Than of hym self: his deeth it preued wel.
329
Amongës allë þingës in a knyght,Trouthe is a þing that he ne lakkë may,
If his honur schal bere his heed vp right.
Valerie tellith how, wiþ greet array,
Kyng Alisandre and his oost, on a day,
Meeued of ire and maléncolye,
Vn-to a citee dressid hym in hye,
330
Whichë þat clept and called was Lapsat,Purpósynge bete it to þe erthe adoun;
And or þat this kyng fully cam ther-at,
Ther was a Philosophere in þe toun,—
A man of excellent discrecïoun,
That to this kyng somtyme had maister be,—
fful sore abasshed of him & his meyne.
331
Out of þe toun he spedde hym on his weie,As hastely as þat he coude or myghte,
Toward þe kyng, of grace hym for to preie;
And ás swithe as þe kyng hadde of hym sighte,
He knewe him and his menynge; and on highte
He seide him þus: “by þe goddës I swere,
Al þi labour schal nat be worth a pere;
332
At þi prayerë do wole I no þing.”This Philosophre of his ooth took good hede,
And seide, “o worthy conquerour and kyng,
Than prey I þe, vnto the toun þè spede,
And it destroyë bothe in lengthe & brede;
Haue on it no pitee, but al doun caste;
This pray I þe, þat may be done as faste.”
333
And whan þe kyng his prayere vnderstood,Al his angir and his irrous talent
Refreynèd he; he woldë for no good
On þe toun vengë him, as he had ment;
He rathir chees be disobedient
To his vengeáble wil, and his oth kepe,
Than be forsworn of þat he swoor so depe.
334
Or a kyng swere, it is ful necessarieA-vise hym wel; for whan þat it is past,
He may his oth in no wise contrarie,
If he of sham or repreef be agast.
A kyng owéth of word be stidëfast;
No thing byhetë, but he it perfourme,
If he wole hym vnto his state conforme.
335
Crisostomus super Matthaeum omelia 12. Nisi consuetudo interdicatur non possunt amputari periuria. Ex iuramento enim periurium generatur; sicut enim qui habet in consuetudine multum loqui neccesse est vt aliquando importune loquitur, sic, qui habet consuetudinem iurare in rebus ydoneis frequenter & in rebus superfluis & nolens consuetudine trahente periurat. In Canone xxij. q. ij
Where he of the matir of sweryng tretith,
Thyse arn the wordës that he writ to vs:—
“What man þe custume of othës nat letith,
In sweryng oftë, what he seith forgetith;
Vsage of othes, of periurie is cause.”
And more he seith eke in þe samë clause.
336
He seith, “periurie engendrid is of othis;ffor right as he þat custumably
Clappith and ianglith, and to stint loth is,
Moot othir whilë speke vnsittyngly,
Right so, vsage of swering, enemy
To trouthe is, and makith men hem forswere;”
fful necessarie is, othis to for-bere.
337
Swering haþ thisë thre condicïounsffolwynge, as trouthë, doom, and rightwisnesse.
Oth axiþ trouthe, and no decepcïouns,
But swere in his ententë sothfastnesse.
Doom moot discreetly, left al hastynesse,
Swere, and nat needles; and iustice also,
Leeffuly swere, and iustly euermo.
338
Quintilian seith, þat vn-to hygh degre,Vnsittynge is to swere in any wise,
Bút it be causid of necessite;
ffor, as he seiþ, and othir clerkis wise,
A kyng or princes word oghtë suffise
Wel morë than, oghte a marchántes oth,
And to go ther ageyn be morë loth.
339
And syn a princes oth, or his promesse,Whan þei nat holden ben, him dishonure,
His lettre and seel, whiche more open witnesse
Beren than þei, good is take hede and cure
That þei be kept; writingë wil endure;
What a man is, it prest is for to preue;
Outhir, honure it shal him, or repreue.
340
Now if it happe, as it haþ happed ofte,A kyng in nedë borwe of his marchántis,
Greet wisdom were it tretë faire & softe,
And holde hem truëly her couenantis;
ffor trust it wel, whan hir couénant is
Nat to hem kept, as þat hir bonde requerith,
The kyng haþ schame, and eke it hem mys-cherith.
341
Loth wolde hem ben eft-sonës for to lene;He þat is brent, men seyn, dredith þe fire.
Be his day kept, he rekkeþ nat a bene,
But elles, siker, “don is in þe myre.”
Wiþ-outen dowte, a Marchantës desir
Is with good herte his kyng honour and plese,
And, to his myght, refresche & doon him ese.
342
In hem is þe substaunce of euery lone:What folk cheuyce, as mochil as doon they?
Excellent Prince, I demë your persone,
To hem and to al othir, in good fay,
Wole holdë þat ye heeten hem alway,
And so to do, god, þe auctour of trouthe,
Yow graunte! and elles certes were it routhe.
343
If þat a poorë man breke his byheste,Or do ageyn his oth, or seel, or lettre,
Men hente him by þe heed, and him arreeste,
And to prisón he gooth; he gette no bettre,
Til his mainpernour his arrest vnfettre;
And yit he moot þe cours of lawe abyde,
Or his mainpernour mot deffende his syde.
344
Among the poorë peple thus it goth,Thei, for vntrouthe, han smert & open schame;
And if a lorde his bond breke, or his oth,
ffor soþe it is a foul spot in his name;
Thogh men dare not opynly him diffame,
Thei þinke, al be it þat þei no thing speke;
In swichë lordës is vntrouthe I-reke.
345
And syn a kyng, by wey of his office,To god I-likned is, as in manere,
And god is trouthe itself, þan may the vice
Of vntrouthë, naght in a kyng appeere,
If his officë schal to god referre.
A besy tongë bringeth in swiche wit,
He þat by word naght gilteþ, is perfit.
346
A! lord, what it is fair and honurable,A kyng from mochil spechë him refreyne;
It sitte him ben of wordes mesuráble,
ffor mochil clap wole his estate desteyne.
If he his tongë with mesurës reyne
Gouernë, than his honur it conserueth;
And by þe reuers, diëth it and sterueth.
347
Bet is, þe peples erës thriste and yerneHir kyng or princes wordës for to here,
Than þat his tongë goo so faste & yerne
That mennës erës dul of his mateere;
ffor dullynge hem, dulleþ þe herte in fere
Of hem þat yeuen to him audience;
In mochil spechë wantiþ not offence.
348
Who so þat hatiþ mochil clap or speche,Qwenchiþ malice; and he þat his mouth kepiþ,
Keepith his soule, as þat þe bookës teeche.
Vnbridlid wordës oftë man by-weepiþ;
Prudencë wakiþ whan þe tongë sleepiþ,
And slepith oftë whan þe tongë wakiþ;
Moderat speche engendrith reste, and makith.
349
Allë naturës of bestës and briddesAnd of serpentës ben ymakid tame,
But tonge of man, as it wel knowe & kid is,
Nat may be tamed; o, fy! man, for schame!
Silence of tunge is wardein of good fame;
And after repreef fissheth, clappeth, fouleth;
The tunge of man, all the body defouleth.
350
And that [þat] oute of tunge of kyng procedeth,The peple specially beren awey.
Wherfore, vnto a kyng þe more it nedeth
Avise hym what he spekë shall alwey,
In mochell spechë som behestë may
Lightly astertë, that may not be holde;
And than [þe] trouthë begynneth to colde.
351
O worthy princë, this, loo, meveth meOf trouthë for to touchë thus sadly,
For that I woldë that the hye degree
Of Chiualrië vniuersally
Bare vp his hede, & bentë not awry;
Of his honour, vntrouthe a knyght vnlaceth,
And his renoun all vttirly defaceth.
abb aa cc.
And failyng it, the chief flour of his stileFadeth & falleth, & begynneth dye.
Honoure appropred is to chiualry[e].
But now passe ouer; touche I wole a while
Of rightwisnesse, which that out of this ile
Purpóseth fully for to fare & wende,
So is our reule vnthrifty & vnthende.
[§ 3. OF JUSTICE.]
353
[R] Anselmus libro Cur deus homo. Justicia est animi libertas, tribuens vnicuique quod suum est secundum propriam dignitatem, &c.
Of will, yeuyng vnto euery wight
Thát longeth to his propre dignite;
To god, obedience, as it is right;
And he þat poor is of degree & myght,
Vnto his better, honour & reuerence;
The grete eke to the smale, lore & science.
354
To thyne egall, concorde; vnto thy foo,Suffrauncë; & to thy self, holynesse;
To the nedy, greved with wrecched wo,
Mercy in dede, & rewë his distresse
After thy power, & releve in heuynesse;
And rewe vpon hym, yf that thy myght faile,
For þat will shall þy dedë countervayle.
355
Who-so it be that Iusticë verrayDesireth folowe, first mote he god drede,
And loue as hertly as he kan & may.
It not suffiseth to do no noyous dede,
But who annoyë hym wold it forbede;
For none anoyë is no righwisnesse,
But it is abstinence of wickkednesse.
356
Of counceill & of helpe we be dettouresEche to other, by right of bretherhede;
For whan a man y-falle in-to errour is,
His brother ought hym counceille & rede
To correcte & amende his wikked dede;
And yf he be vexed with maladie,
Mynystre hym helpe, his greef to remedie.
357
Euery man owiþ studien and museTo teche his brothir what þing is to do,
And what be-houëly is to refuse;
That þat is good, prouokyng him þerto;
And þus he mote conseille his brothir, lo!
“Do þat right is, and good, to goddës pay,
In word nat only, but in werk al-way.”
358
Lawëful iustice is, as in manere,Al vertu; and who wole han þis iustice,
The lawe of crist, to kepë mot he leere.
Now if þat lawë fórbeede euery vice,
And cómande al good þing, and it cherice,
ffulfillë lawë, is vertu perfyt,
And in-iustice is of al vertu qwyt.
359
Iustice is of the kynde and the natureOf god; and he haþ made it, and ordeyned
On remës and on euery crëature.
By iustice, is schedyng of blood refreyned,
And gilt punýsched, whan it is compleyned.
Iusticë déffendeth possessions,
And peple kepeþ from oppressions.
360
A kyng is made to kepen and maynteeneIustice, for she makith obéisant
The mysdoers þat proudë ben & keene;
And hem þat ben in vertu hábundant
Cherisith; a kyng is, by couenant
Of ooth maad in his coronacioun,
Boundë to iustices sauuacioun.
361
And a kyng, in fulfillinge of þat, isTo god lik, whiche is verray rightwisnesse;
And men of yndë seyn and holden þis—
‘A kyngës iustice is a greet richesse
Vnto his peple, as plentee or largesse
Of erthly good, and bettre þan reyn
ffallynge at eue from heuen,’ þei seyn.
362
fful often sithë it is wist and seen,That for þe wrong and þe vnryghtwisnesse
Of kyngës mynistres, þat kyngës bene
Holden gilty, where-as in soothfastnesse
Thei knowen no þing of þe wikkednesse;
Vniust mynístres ofte hir kyng accusen,
And thei þat iust ben, óf wrong hem excusen.
363
If þe ministres do naght but iusticeTo poorë peple, in contre as þei go,
Thogh þe kyng be vniust, yit is his vice
Hid to þe peple; thei wene eueremo
The kyng be iust, for his men gye hem so.
But ministres to seelde hem wel gouerne;
Oppressïoun regneth in euery herne.
364
A kyng, me thinkeþ, for þe seuerteOf his good loos, by-houeþ it enquere
Of hem þat han his éstate in cheerte,
What famë þat his poore peple him bere;
He of iustice is bounden hem to were
And to diffende; and if þat þei be greued,
By him thei mot be holpen and releued.
365
Excusë schal hym naght his ignorance;He mot enquere of wrong, and it redresse;
ffor þat he peple haþ in gouernance,
He clept is kyng: if his men peple oppresse,
Witynge hym, and noght rekke of the duresse,
He may, be ryght, be clept no gouernour,
But of his peple a wilful déstroyour.
366
O worthi king! benyngne Edward þe laste!Thow haddist ofte in herte a drede impressid,
Whiche þat þyn humble goost ful sore a-gaste;
And to know if þou cursed were or blessid,
A-mong þe peple ofte hastow þe dressed
In-to contre, in symple array allone,
To herë what men seide of þi persone.
367
Al-thogh a kyng haue hábundance of myghtIn his land, at his lust knytte & vnknytte,
Good is þat he his power vse ariȝt,
That fro the wey of iustice he ne flitte,
Leste oure lord god hym from his gracë schitte,
Of whom al rightwis power is deryued;
ffor if he doo, of blisse he schal be pryued.
368
I fynde how þat Theódorus sireene,ffor þat he to þe kyng of Lysëmak
Tolde his defautës, þe kyng leet for teene
Crucifie him; and as he heng & stak
Vppon þe croys, þus to þe kyng he spak:
“This peyne, or othir like þer-to, moot falle
Vppon þi falsë counsaillourës alle.
369
“Nought rekke I thogh I rote an hy or lowe,As he þat of þe deth hath no gastnesse;
I dye an innocent, y do the knowe;
I dyë to defendë rightwisnesse.
Thy flatereres, en-haunced in richesse,
Dreden to suffre for riȝt suche a peyne,
But I thereby nat settë resshës tweyne.”
370
Ther was a duke Romayn, clept Cámilus,Leyde onës seegë vn-to a citee,
ffalisk namèd, as seiþ valerius,
Of whiche the men of moost auctorite,
And grettest of power and of degre,
To a Maister in þe citee dwellinge,
Bytook hir children, by wey of lernynge.
371
What doth me this maister, but on a daySomme of tho children out of þe tounë ledde,
The most expert in science, and þe way
Streight to þe Romayn tentës he hym spedde;
And þe duke þus counsailled he, and redde:
“Haueth this children in possessïoun,
And kepith hem in holde and in prisoun;
372
“The fadres of hem han in gouernaunceffalisk þe citee, at hir ownë list;
In hy and low, aftir hir ordenance
Is al þing doon: Whan it is to hem wist,
That ȝe hir children han vndir your fist,
Ye schul wel seen, hir children lyf to saue,
Hem and þe citee schul ye wynne & haue.”
373
The duke answerde anon to þis traytour:“Thogh þou be fals vn-to þyn ownë toun,
And rekkest nat of shame or déshonour,
But per cas for to gete of me guerdoun
Desirest ffaliskës déstruccïoun,
Nat were it knyghtly, me to þè consente,
That taken hast so traytourous entente.
374
“We Romayns kepen riȝtës of bataileAs trewëly as þe rightës of pees;
Our custume is, no children to assayle;
Thogh we þe toun hadde wonnë, doutëlees
Ther schulde no childe amongës al þe prees
ffor vs han greued be; we armës bere
A-geyn the armëd men, hem for to dere,
375
“And naght a-geyn children vndéfensable.In þat in þe is, þi myght hastow do,
Thorgh wicked tresoun, false and déceyuable,
Thi citee to destroyen and for-doo;
But I, Romayn, agree me nat þerto;
By vertu of armés wole I it wynne,
ffor al þe myght of men þat ben þerinne.”
376
The duke comaundeth, schortly for to seyn,His handës hym be-hindë to be bounde,
And bad þe children lede hym hoom a-geyn
To hir fadres; whiche, whan þat þey han founde
So greet iusticë in þis duke habounde,
The senat clept, and þis vnto hem tolde;
The hertës gan to change, of yonge & olde;
377
All þey seiden, of hyë gentillesse,Groundid vppon iustice, did he þis,
And also of a chiualrous prowesse;
Thei seiden, “it to vs most sitting is
Oure ȝatës opne, & offre vs to ben his;
Is non so good, as lat vs mollifie
Our hertës stoutë to his genterie,
378
“And of his pees, requiren hym & preye.”They diden so; but what was foluynge,
Nouȝt haue I red, wher-fore I can nat seie;
But þis Iust duke, as by my súpposynge,
Was to hem swiche, in wil & in workynge,
That he hem quittë so as myȝte hem queme:
What schulde I elles of suche a lordë deme?
379
Of Lancastre good duke henri alsoWhos Iustice is writén and auctorised,
Whi schulde I nat þè rekene a-mongës þo
That in hir tyme han Iustice excercised?
Ȝit þat vertu only nat haþ suffised
To þe, but al þat longith to knyȝthode
Was inned in þyn excellent manhode.
380
I rede also how þat—hangynge a strifBetwixt kyng Porrus and a lord clept ffabrice—
The leche of þys kyng, a cursë caitif
Inuolued and y-wrappëd in þe vice
Of couetisë, schoop hym for to trice
His ownë lord þe kyng, & hym to kille,
If þat it haddë ben fabricës wille.
381
This leche vn-to fabrices house by nyght,As priuely as þat he coudë, went,
And vnto him ensuryd & be-hyght,
If him list to þe dedë [then] consent,—
He was so glad to plese him & content,—
His lorde þe kyng with venym wolde he fede,
So þat ther-þurgh he steruen shuldë nede.
382
This lorde, with þat, bad men his handës teye,And lede vnto þe kyng þis traytrous wight,
And al þis treson vnto him be-wreye.
Whan þis was done, þe Kyng seyde anone right,
“Se here a trowth and manhode of a knyght!
Men may the sonne as lightly his curse reue,
As þis fabrices make his trowthë leue.”
383
In Perse onës þer was, by IugëmentA man to deþë dampnyd in wrong wyse,
ffor wrath and hate, & þe irous talent
Þat to þis ilkë man bare the Iustice;
And whan þe knoulech of þis false iowyse
Was comyn vnto þe kyngës audience,
Þis dome he ȝafe as blyue, and þis sentence:
384
He bad men fla hym quyk out of his skynne,And þer-with keuyr þe iudicial see,
And made his sonë to be set þer-inne,
That iuge aftir his fadir sholdë be,
To þis ende and entencïoun, þat he
Shuldë be ware how he his domës ȝafe,
And lene alwey to right-wysenessë staffe.
385
Naght ought a iugë, for hatrede or loueOthir wey demë þen trouth requirith,
But, at þe reuerence of god aboue,
Right ay fauoúr, whan þat it apperith.
Dede of iustice a conciëncë clerith,
Chasyng a-way thoughtës on wrong I-groundid;
Who iuggith wrongfully, is feendly woundid.
386
What Iuge in dome eke ȝeuyth iust sentence,A-wayting vp-on a golden dragee,
To god he doth displesaunce & offence;
ffor þe iusticë wich of duëtee
He shuldë do, cursidly sellith he,
ffor loue of mede him prouokiþ þer-to,
And riȝtwysnessë no þing so to do.
387
To swich a iugë withdrawë þe hopeOf money, and he fro iusticë flyttyþ;
Wher he supposith mony [for] to grope,
Iust iugëment he in his hert admittith;
But who so þat his hand fro ȝiftys shittith,—
As vnto vs wyttenessith ysaye,—
He shal in heuen dwelle, & sitten hye.
388
Cristen men, ȝelde oughten iust iugëmentffrely, for vnleful is it to selle;
Thogh it be leful and conuenient,
A wyse man for rewarde his reed to telle.
A iuges purs, with goldë noght shulde swelle;
If one iustice he shape his dome to bilde,
His iugëmentës he ȝiftlés must ȝilde.
389
And he þat doth of iusticë rigoure,Let hym be ware he hauë no delyte
In [þe] punýsshyng of þe óffendoure,
Þat haþ I-do þe trespase, or the wyte;
Ner him reioyse of his anoyance plyte,
Ne þe maner excede in swichë case,
Or quantite of þe gilt, or þe trespace.
390
Euen as a soule is bodies lyflynesse,And when þat it is twynëd from a wight
The hert is dede, so farith right-wisenesse;
ffor whan a reme is reulid by hir myght,
Þen may the peple be ful gladde & lyght,
Þe londe may bathen in prosperite;
And lost is al, if þat absent be she.
391
Ther was a lawe I-made vppon a tymeAt romë, by the consoulës assent,
Þat who so werë gilty of þe cryme
Of áduoutrië, and were þer-in hent.
His eyen bothë shulden out be brent.
Now fel it so, a man þat sonë was
To a conseil, was take in þis trespas.
392
And whan þat þe myshappe of þis personeWas to þe peple knowën of þe toune,
Thei loueden his fadir so, echon,
And had him in so chere affeccioun,
Þei seyden þat non execucioun
Shuld on þis sonë for this dedë falle,
And þe consulës so þei preyden alle.
393
To which þe fadir gan replië þo,And þus allegëd he for him, & seyde:—
“Considereth, sires, I am oon of þo
Þat to þis lawe consentid and obeide;
And shulde I now þe samë breke,” he seyde,
“ffor fauour of myself or any of myne?
Nay, sirrës, to þat may I not enclyne.
394
“Maffeith! þat werë wrong and villonye!Þe lawe shal forthë, thogh it fille on me.”
Þe peple gan to rumble, & clappe & crye,
And the consulës preyed of þe Citee
The reuers; and thus ouercome was he;
So at the last he sye non othir wey,
But in party he must hir lust obeye.
395
“Now,” quod he, “sithen it may be not bet,Sum what to yow, me conformë wol I,
So þat þe lawë shal al noght be let,
Thogh þat it myght obseruëd be fully:
Thus wol I, and none othir truëly:
Oon of myne eyen wol I now for-go;
Mi sone anoþir; it shal be riȝt so.
396
“We two wol hauë but o mannës sight.”Thus was done; but naght al at the plesaunce
Of þe peple; but þei none othir myght.
Now if to-morowe fil þer swich a chaunce,
Shulde men fyndë so iust gouernaunce?
Nay, nay! þis londe is al to scarce & lyte,
To fynde oon þat so iustly wolde hym quyte.
[§ 4. ON OBSERVING OF THE LAWS.]
397
Prince excellent, hauë your lawës chere;Obserue hem, and offende hem by no wey!
Bi oth to kepe it, bounde is þe powere
Of kyng; and by it is kyngës nobley
Sustenëd; lawe is bothë lokke and key
Of suërtë; whil law is kept in londe,
A prince in his estate may sikir stonde.
398
And doutëlesse, if þat fordone be lawe,A princes power may goo pley him þenne;
ffor þei þat nought ne haue, with knyfe I-drawe,
Wol on hem þat of good be myghty, renne,
And hurt hem, and hir houses fire & brenne,
And robbe and slee, and do al swich folye,
Whan þer no lawe is, hem to iustifie.
399
Now in gode feith, I pray god it amende,Lawe is nye flemëd out of þis cuntre,
ffor fewë be þat dreden it offende.
Correccïoun and al is long on the:
Whi soffrest þou so many an ássemble
Of armëd folk? wel ny in euery shire,
Partye is made to venge her cruel ire;
400
Thei, with her hande wrong, to hem done redresse;Hem deyneth naght an accioun attame
At comun lawë: swich vnbuxumnesse
Suffréd, vs makë wol of seuerte lame.
Who-so may þis correct, is worthi blame
Þat he ne doth naght. alasse! þis suffraunce
Wol vs destroyë by continuance.
401
Is ther no lawë þis to remedie?I can no morë; but, and this forth growe,
This londe shal it repent and sore abye;
And al such mayntenance, as men wel knowe,
Sustenëd is naght by personës lowe,
But Cobbes gretë þis ryot sustene;
Correct it, gode is, whil þat it is grene.
402
ffor, and it horë, þis lande is but lost;He þat our heede is, sore it shal repent;
And this tamend, axith no gretter cost
But to do lawe in no vengeáble entent,
Seye I; but for þe better, hem take and hent,
And punysshe hem by lawful riȝtwysenesse,
And suffre naght ich othir þus to oppresse.
403
Smal tendirnesse is had now of our lawes;ffor if so be þat oon of þe grete wattes
A dede do, which þat a-geyn þe lawe is,
No thyng at al he punysshid for þat is;
Riȝt as lop-webbys, flyës smale & gnattes
Taken, and suffre gretë flyës go,
ffor al þis worlde, lawe is now rewlyd so.
404
The riche and myghty man, thogh he trespace,No man seith onës þat blak is his eye;
But to þe pore, is denyed al grace;
He snybbyd is, and put to tormentrie;
He naght a-stirtë may, he shal a-bye;
He caught is in the webbe, & may naght twynne;
Mochil gode reule is sowe, & spryngith thynne.
405
Of þis groweth strifë, bataille, and discorde,And by þe gretë, poër folk ben greuyd;
ffor he þat noble is of blode, and a lorde
In stile, and naght hath, sterid is, and meved
Vnto rapynë; þis is often preuyd;
Þe pore it felith. þus of lawë lak,
Norysshith wrong, and castith riȝt a-bak.
406
When a kyng doþ his peyne and diligence,His reme by lawë and reson to gye,
He stondith morë in beneualence
Of god, and more his werk shal fructifie,
And shal haue gretter mede, it is no lye,
Than þei þat swich a cure haue none on honde;
Thus fynde I wretyn, as I vndirstonde.
407
Who-so þat in hye dignite is sette,And may do greuous wrong & cruelte,
If he for-bere hem, to commend is bette,
And gretter shal his mede and meryte be,
Þen þei þat naght may kithe iniquite,
Ne naght may done; for were sum man of myght,
Often wolde he do, grét harme and vnryght.
408
Hye dignite, the philosofre writeþ,Preueth a man, what he is in his dede.
When þat a prince in vertu him delitith,
Þen is his peple warisshëd of drede;
Then may thei sey and syng alowde, & grede,
“Honour, long lyfe, ioie, and cristës blyssyng,
Mot haue oure sustenour, our prince & kyng!”
409
Whan þat an Emperour in dayës oldeCorownëd was, aftir as blyue anone,
Makers of tounbës cum vnto him sholde,
And ask him ‘of what metal or what stone
His toumbe shulde ben’; & forth þei gone,
With swich deuyse as þe lorde list deuyse,
And vp þei make it in her bestë wyse.
410
This was done, for to bring vnto memórieThat he was naght but a man córuptible,
And þat þis worldis ioye is transitorie,
And þe trust on it slippir and fallible;
And þis considered, ought him be peynyble
His remë wel for to gouerne and gye;
ffor who so lyueþ wel, wel shal he dye.
411
Like a bridel is deþës rémembraunce,Þat mannës hertë réstreyneth fro vice.
Þat kyng þat knyghtly is of gouernaunce,
Þat is to seyn, doþ iustly his office,
Of loue and pes and rest he is noryce;
And whan þat he is out of þis worlde went,
Thus seyn men þat goon by his monument:
412
“In heuen mote þis kyngës soulë rest!Þis is a worthy kyng, gret was þe pees
Þat men had in his tyme, he was þe best
That myght be; he kept his peple harmles;
In his comyng, glad was al þe pres,
And sory weren of his départyng.”
O, graciouse princë, swich be your wirkyng!
413
Thus, my gode lorde, wynneth your peples voice;ffor peples vois is goddes voys, men seyne.
And he þat for vs starf vpon þe croyse
Shal white it yow, I doute it noght certeyne;
Your labour shal naght ydel be, ne veyne;
“No goode dede vnrewardid is, or quytte;
Ne euyl vnpunysshid,” seith holy writte.
414
In your prosperite and in your welthe,Remembreth euer a-monge, þat ye shul dye,
And wot naght whan; it comeþ in a stelthe;
Haue often him by-fore your myndes ye;
ffor whan no hertë hydë may ne wrye
His secre thoughtës, god al wot & weyeth;
Hym, loue & drede; and his lawës obeyeth.
415
Now sen a kyng is to his lawës swore,And lawë biddeth free elecïoun
In chirches passe; my godë lorde, þer-fore,
Let no fauour ne none affeccïoun
So meeue your wysë circumspeccïoun,
To lette hem of hir laweful liberte;
Lat hem reioyse hir propre duëte.
416
The chapitre of a chirchë Cáthedral,When þei haue chosen hir heed & pastour,
Which as hem thenkeþ sufficiant at al,
Hem for to rewle, and ben hir gouernoure,
Writeþ vnto þe pope in hir fauour,
Bisekyng humble[l]y his fadir-hede
It to conferme; and þat is a iust dede.
417
And if the lawë suffre yow to writeffor any man apart, herkenth now me;
Let vertu þennë þerto yow excite;
Lokith þat þe man haue abilite,
Þat shal resseyuë þat hy dignite,
Þat is to seyn, he be clene of lyuyng,
Discrete, iust, and of súffisant konnyng.
418
If þe pope to þat estate prouydeA persone, at your prayer and instaunce,
Your sonde he takeþ to þe better syde;
He holdeth þe persone of sufficïaunce
To hauë swich a cure in gouernaunce,
ffor so wittenessith þe suggestioun
Þat to hym made is for prouisïoun.
419
To kynges letters, yeven is credence;Beth ware how þat ye wryte in swich matere,
Lest þat ye hurt and maynë concïence.
ffor if þat execute be your prayere,
Þe persone vnworthy, ye shul ful dere
Rewe it; no smal charche is the soulës cure
Of al a diocise, I yow ensure.
420
Of swich writyng be of right súffrable,And þe man able, swich charge to resseyue,
ffor whom ye writte, þat is comméndable;
And ellës wol it your soule deseyve.
Help him þat able is; and tunhable weyue;
Weyuë fauel with his polýsshïd speche;
And help him þat wel doth, and wel can teche.
421
But certes, fauel hath caght so sad footeIn lordës courtës, he may naght þens slyde;
Who com or go, algate abyde he moote;
His craft is to susteyne ay þe wrong syde,
And fro vertu his lordë to devide;
And, for soth sawës ben to lordës lothe,
Noght wol he soth seyn, he hath made his oth.
422
Let fauel passë; foule mot he falle!fforth in iusticë wol I now procede:
Þer was a knyght, I not what men hym calle,
A iuste man and a trewe in al his dede,
Which on a tyme, as þought him it was nede,
Þe froward peple by sharp lawës bynde;
lawës ful iust he made, and in streyte kynde.
423
And when þei weren byfore hem I-radde,Þei made hem wondir wroth, & seyden al
Þei weren not so nycë ne so madde
To hem assent, for ought that may befalle;
They wolden nat hem to þo lawës thralle,
And wold han artyd þis knyght hem repele,
Makyng ageyn him an haynous querele.
424
When he se þis, he blyuë to hem seyde:“I mad hem naght, it was god áppollo;
And on my bak,” quod he, “þe charge he leyde
To kepe hem; sirës, what sey ye here-to?
As he me chargid hath, riȝt so I do.”
And vnto þat, answerd anone þe prees,
“We wol hem naght admitten doutëles.”
425
“Wel,” quod he, “þenne is gode, or ye hem breke,That vnto god apollo I me dresse,
To trete of þis matere, and with him speke,—
With-owtyn him I may it naght redresse,—
Biseche him wol I, of his gentilnesse,
Repele hem, sen þat þei to streytë be,
And do my deuer riȝt wel, ȝe shul see.
426
“But or I go, ye shul vnto me swereÞe lawës kepë til I agayn come,
And Breke hem naght;” to which þei gan answere,
“Ȝee, ȝee, man, ȝee! we graunt it al and summe.”
Þei made her oth, and he his wey hath nomme.
He nought to Apollo, but to grecë went,
And þer abode tyl þat þe deþ him hent.
427
And whan his lastë daye gan to appere,He bad men þrowe his body in þe see,
Lest vpon þe londe made were his bere,
Þe peple myghten vn-to hir Citee
His bonës cary, and at hir largë be
Quyte of hir oth, as to hir iugëment;
Thus he deuysid in his testament.
428
Syn I spoke haue of iustice, as ye knowe,Vnto pite—which mot ben had al-gatis,
And namëly in princes ought it growe—
Wol I me dressë: she opneþ the ȝates
Of helth to him þat in sekenesse estate is;
Sche esith many a wyght þat is distressid,
Þat nere hir helpë shulde be sore oppressid.
[§ 5. DE PIETATE.]
429
Pitee, naght ellës is, to vndirstonde,But good wille inward of debónair hert,
And outhewarde spech, and werk of man, to fonde
To help him þat men sen in meschif smert.
Men selde him seen in-to wykkýd deþ stert,
Often whos cruelte cruelly sleth.
430
Whilom þer was a tyraunt dispitouse,Þat so delited him in cruelte,
Þat of no þing was he so désirous.
Now shope it so, a man þat to pyte
ffo was, and frende vnto iniquite,
A sotel werkeman in craft of metal,
Wrought in þis wyse as I yow tellë shal.
431
His lorde þe king he þoughtë plese and glade,And craftëly he made a bol of bras,
And in þe syde of it he slily made
A litel wyket, þat ordeynëd was
To réceyue hem þat stode in deþës case,
Vndir þe which men shulden sharpe fire make,
Tho folk to deþë for to brenne & bake.
432
And ȝit more-ouer, þe kyng for to meveThe lesse vnto pitee, it made was so
By sotil art þe dampnëd folk to greve
Þat whan to crye, hem cómpellyd hir woo,
Hir woys was lyke a bolës euer-mo,
And nothyng lyke a mannys voise in soun,
As þe scripturë maketh mencïoun.
433
But our lord god, of pite þe auctour,Displesid with þis cruel ordinaunce,
Swich rewarde shape vnto this losengeour,
Þat it abatid al his countenaunce;
And for to preue his fendely purueaunce,
How sharp it was, & coudë folk distreyne,
The first he was þat entryd in þat peyne.
434
ffor whan þe kyng, his cruel werk had seyne,Þe craft of it commendith he ful wele;
But þe entent he fully helde a-gayne,
And seydë, “þou þat art morë cruel
Than I, þe maydenhede of this Iuel
Shalt preue anone; þis is my Iugëment.”
And so as blyue he was þer-in I-brent.
435
Men may sen here, how fauel hym enclynethAy to his lordys lust, what so it be;
Vnto þat ende he bysieth hym and clynyth,
And no consideracïoun hath he,
Thogh it be harmë to his lordys degre,
Or a-geyn feith, honour, or concïence;
In fals plesaunce is al his diligence.
436
To what þing it be, if it his lorde lyke,He him conformyth; he neuer denyeth
His lordës resouns, but a þank to pike,
His lordys wil and witte he iustifieth;
Whil fauel liueþ, no fals conseil dieth;
ffauel is wedded to plesaunt deseyt,
And in þat wedlok trewe is his conceite.
437
Grounde of treson, o þou cursyd fauel!How longë shalt þou be a potestate?
In lordës courtes þou pleyest þi parcel,
So þat it strecchith to þi lordys mate;
ffor þu hast neuer þi lordys estate
To hertë chere, but al þi bysynesse
Is for þi lucre, and þi cofres warmnesse.
438
ffauel was neuer frendly, man vnto;lordës, beth ware! it nedith trewëlye.
Senek, by hem þat folweden Nero,
Seith þus, “a ffyë folweþ the honye;
Þe wolf, careyn,” he seith; so, wel wot I
Þat companyë folweden her pray,
And naght þe man; & so do men þis day.
439
Whil þat þe swetnesse of riches endurith,Vnto þe riche is manny man plesaunt;
Only þe richessë þer-to hem lurith;
What he comaundiþ, þei ben obysaunt
To do, whil þat he of goode is habundaunt;
But whan þe pray, þe ricchesse, is a-goo,
The man forsaken þei for euermo.
440
O ffauel! a blynde marchant art þou oone,That, for wordly goode, & grace and fauoure,—
Which faylë shal & passe, and ouer goone,—
Swich diligencë dost, and swich laboure,
Þat þou þi soulë fro our saueoure
Twynnest, and slest þi lordis soule also,
And causyst hem to peyne eternal go.
441
Þer is a long and a large differenceTwix vertuous plesaunce and flaterie:
Good plesaunce is of swich beneuolence,
Þat what gode dede he may in man espie,
He preysith it, and rébukith folye;
But fauel takeþ al on othir parte;
In wrong preysyng is al his craft and arte.
442
A gloser also kepith his silenceOften, where he his lord seeth him mystake.
Lest þat his answere myghtë done offence
Vn-to his lorde, and him displesyd make,
He holt his pees; nat a worde dare he crake;
And for he naght ne seith, he his assent
Ȝeueþ þerto, by mannës Iugëment.
443
Who-so þat wot þe purpose of a wyght,Þat is agroundid vppon wykydnesse,
And noght ne lettith it, vnto his myght,
ffauorith it, as þe boke can expresse;
Who-so it lokith, fynde it shal no lesse.
But of al þis now make I here an ende,
And to my tale of pite wol I wende.
444
A Princë mot be of condiciounPitouse, and his angir refreyne, & ire,
Lest þat vnavisid commocioun
Hym chaufë so, & sette his hert on fire,
That hym to wenge as blyuë he desire,
And fulfille it in dede: hym owyþ knowe.
His errour, and qwenche þat firy lowe.
445
Aristotle amonestith wonder faste,In his book whiche to Alisaundre he wroot,
If he wolde haue his regne endure and laste,
That for non ire he neuere be soo hoot,
Blood of man schede; and god seith, wel I woot,
That vnto hym reseruëd is vengeaunce;
Who-so þat sleþ, schal haue þe samë chaunce.
446
But this noght ment is by þe cours of lawe,That put a man to deth for cryme horrible.
Whan he a man y-murdred haþ and slawe,
A man to sle by lawe, it is lisible;
That slaughtre beforn god is ádmittible,
And if a kyng do swichë murdrers grace
Of lyf, he boldeþ hem eft to trespace.
447
kyng of þis lond whilom, herde I seyn,ffor mannës deth a pardoun hadde e-graunted
Vnto a man, whiche afterward ageyn
The samë gilt hadde in an othir haunted;
Aftir whos deth, he homly haþ avaunted
He nas naght so frendlés, he woldë do
Wel y-now thogh he hadde slayn othir two.
448
“Of frendes,” quod he, “haue I largë wone,That, for þat they haue had, and schul, of myne,
Byforne þe kyng for me schal knele echone;
They at þe fullë kunne his hertë myne;
Thidir wil I goo, streght as any lyne,
And þey þat now annoyen me or greue,
I schal hem qwite here-aftir, as I leue.”
449
He cam vnto þe kyng, and axid graceOf þat he wroghtë hadde so synfully.
The kyng auysëd hym wel on his face,
And seydë, “frend, me þynketh how þat I
Haue vnto þe doon grace or þis, soothly;
I graunted onës a chartre to þe
Of mannës deth, as it remembreth me.
450
“Hast þou now slayn an othir man also?”Now stood a foolë sage þe kyng byside;
And or þe kyng spak any wordës moo,
He to hym seidë, “[Now,] for god þat dyde,
Whi demen ye þis man an homicide?
He slow hym naght, for ye your self hym slow,
And, by your leuen, I schal tellen how:
451
“If þat þe lawë myghte his cours han had,This man here hadde ben, for þe firste man, deed;
fforyeue hym now; and yif þat he be drad
To slee þe thriddë, þan girde of myn heed.
Now be avisëd wel; it is my reed,
How ye your pardoun grauntë, leste errour
Of nycë pitee be your áccusour.”
452
This kyng wel þoughtë þat he seide hym trouthe,And chartirles gooþ þis man ful of drede;
And aftirward, of whos dissert was routhe,
The lawe hym yaf þat longëd to his mede.
My tale is doon; now sooþly it is nede
To grauntës to wiþstondë, þat procure
Meschévous deth to many a crëature.
453
Pitee auailith mochil, but naght þere;ffor bet it is to sle þe mordreman,
Than suffre hym regnë, for he haþ no fere
His hand to vsë forth as he by-gan;
And in my cónceit, feelë wel I can,
That of suche pitee, is þe abstinence
Of gretter pite, for þe consequence.
454
If right-ful deth of oo man, kepe and saueTwo innocentës lyuës, þinkeþ me
By resoun morë merit oghte hym haue
That cómandith his gylty man deed be,
Than he þat lif hym graunteþ: why lat se,
The gylty man is no wrong doon vnto,
But wrong is doon vnto thise othir two.
455
Euery man woot wel, fór to saue tweyneIs gretter gracë þan to saue but on.
Of murdre, is cause gret for to compleyne;
Tho pardons alle to lyghtly passe and goon;
Auyse hem þat fauoúre hem, by seynt Iohn;
Who so it be that þerto þe kyng meeveth,
Wel morë þan he woot, his soulë greeveth.
456
Avise a kyng eek, for any requesteVnto hym maad, by greet estat or mene,
That he fauoúre it noght; it is þe beste
Tho réquestës to werne and voydë clene,
Of swiche in sothe as murdrers ben, I mene;
But and on be by malice of his foos
Endited, pardoun be to hym noght cloos.
457
If þat be sooth, lat pitee walk at large,ffor sche and mercy þerto wil assente;
It is a parcel of hir either charge;
Routhë were it þe giltëles turmente;
Pitee schal soul of man to god presente,
And god, þat yaf vs ensample of pitee,
To pitous folk sauacïoun schal be.
458
The pitous herte of Marcus MarcellusWele worthy is, be drawen in memórie;
He may ensample and mirrour be to vs;
ffor, as Valerie writith in a storie,
Whan þis Marc obtened hadde þe victórie
By segë leyde to men of siracuse,
As I schal seyn, he heuyly gan muse.
459
He wente hym vp on hy vppon a toure,Where he byholdë myghte al þe citee,
And how fortune hadde schape hym þat honoure.
With hertë tendre than considered he,
And hadde of folkës dethës suche pitee,
That from wepynge he myghte hym not restreyne;
Al his tryumphë was to hym but peyne.
460
Who-so hadde stonden by hym in þat tyde,And hym avisëd on his contenaunce,
Wolde han supposëd that þat othir side
Rathir hadde I-putte hym to þe outraunce,
Than he hadde had of hem so fair a chaunce:
O worthy knyght! who schal þi steppës sue?
Thi súccessour halt hym to longe in mue.
461
O citee! syn fortune was contrarieTo the in o part, yit hir gentilnesse
Purveyëd þe a bénigne aduersarie.
Thanke hir of þat, for thy disese is lesse,
ffalle in þe daunger of lambës humblesse,
Than he with cruel woluës al to-frete;
A lamb is naght so gredy on hir mete.
462
Ther nys no þing, as witnessith a storie,Makyth a knyght so schynynge in renoun,
Whan þat he of his foos hath þe victórie,
As rew on hym þat throwen is a-doun,
And of his blode eschue effusioun.
A bestes kynde is, þat is wilde and wood,
Victórie naght desire, but þe blood.
463
Also, whan þat þe kyng of hermenyeVenquysshet was in batayle by pompeye,
This kyng fel doun vnto his foot in hye,
And from hym caste his dyademe aweye;
But pompeyus, as blyue, of his nobleye
Stirte vnto hym, and vp hym lifte & hente,
And many a word benigne on hym dispente.
464
He dide his myght hym to conforte and qweeme;And right anon, with-oute any delay,
Vpon his heed bad sette his dyademe
Ageyn; and so was doon, it is no nay.
Whan Cesar, emperour, eek on a day
Pompeyë saw biforn hym lad & bounde,
Cesar in terës saltë gan habounde.
465
Whan Alisaundre eek, as Vallerie haþ told,Was, in a tyme, in þe feld wiþ his host,
An agëd knyght of his, for verray cold,
His lyfly myght he loren hadde al-moost,
So greuous tempest tho fil in þat coost;
And whan þis worþy kyng þis hadde aspied,
Out of his see he roos, and to hym hied,
466
And by the hand þis oldë knyght he took,Confortynge hym [right] in his beste manere,
And ledde hym to his tente, as seith þe book,
And in his real seege and his chaiere
As blyue hym settë: þus may kyngës leere,
Distressëd knyghtes to helpë and releeue:
To take ensample of þis, it schal noght greue.
467
What wonder was it, thogh þat knyghtës thoDesirëden so noble princë serue,
Syn þat hym leuer was for to for-go
His dignite, and hir helþë conserue,
Than his estat keepe, and hym suffre sterue?
Yit hoope I seen his heir in þis prouince;
And þat schal ye be, my good lord þe prince.
468
Before a iuge, eek in poynt to be deed,Of Iulïus Cesar þer was a knyght,
Whiche, wiþ an hye voys, for to saue his heed,
To his lord Cesar cryde a-lowdë ryght,
By-sechynge hym þat, of his gracious myght,
He wolde hym helpe and rew on his estat;
And Cesar sente hym a good aduocat.
469
And vnto þat, þis knyght as blyuë þusOn heightë wel, þat al þe peple it herde,
With manly cheerë spak to Iulius,
His lorde, and in þis wisë hym answerde:—
“Han ye for-gote how scharp it wiþ yow ferde,
Whan ye were in þe werrës of asie?
Maffeith! your lif stood þere in iupartie;
470
“And aduocat ne sente I non to yow,But my-self put in prees, & for yow faght;
My woundës beren good witnesse y-now
That I sooth seye; and, lest ye leeue it naght,
I schal yow schewe what harmë haue I caght,
The doute out of youre hertë for to dryue.”
He nakid hym, and schewëd hym as blyue.
471
Of whiche, Cesar ful sorë was aschamed,And in his hertë sorwe made, and moone;
He heeld hym selfen worthy to be blamed.
“My freend,” he seidë, “let me now allone;
Aduócat wole I be in my persone
ffor þe; I am wel holden to do soo.”
And þus, þis knyght, his deth he saued fro.
472
He dredde hym, if he naddë þus y-wroghtThe peple hym wolde han for a proude man deemed,
And vngentil, and þat he cowdë noght,
As that it scholde eeke haue vnto hym seemed,
Thanke hem þat worþy werë to be qwemed;
“What princë,” quoth he, “peyneth hym naght wynne
His knyghtës loue, his loue is to hem þynne.”
473
Out of pitee, growith mercy and springiþ,ffor piteelés man cán do no mercy;
What prince hem lakkith, naght aright he kyngeth;
And, for þat þei ben neghëboures so nygh,
To pitee, mercy ioynë now wole I.
Excellent prince haue in hem good sauour,
And ellës al in waast is your labour.
[§ 6.] De Misericordia.
474
Mercy, aftir þe worde of seynt Austyn,Of herte is a verray compassïoun
Of othir menys harm, and þat comth yn
By gyfte of god, and by remissïoun;
As, if iniúrie or oppressioun
Be doon to vs, þat gilt for-yeue vs oghte,
ffor loue of crist, þat, by deth, our lif boghte.
475
Who-so, wronge to hym doön, wole for-yeue,His synnë schal to hym for-yeuen be;
Thogh þat he no þing of his goodës yeue,
The better part yit of mercy halt he;
Thus fynde I writen of auctorite:
but fully may þere no man do mercy,
But if þat he releuë þe nedy.
476
Thogh þat a man be sobre, chaast, & trewe,And be wiþ many an hy vertu endowëd,
And yeue, and naght for-yeue, it schal hym rewe:
Where as oure werkes mostë ben avowëd,
The vnmerciáble schal be disallowëd:
Who naght forȝeueth, mercy dooth he non;
And mercyles man, mercy schal for-gon.
477
Mercy, crist causëd to ben incarnate,And humbled hym to take oure breþerhede.
God in-mortel, rewynge oure seek estate,
Mortel be-cam, to purge oure synful dede;
Hym lothid naght his precious body sprede
Vpon þe croys, this lord benyngne and good;
He wroot oure chartre of mercy with his blood.
478
Of hym, his handwerk and his crëature,ffor to be merciable, aright may lerne;
This lyf present schul but a whilë dure,
And lastynge it, your mercy naght ne werne,
O worthy princë, for to god eterne
It ful plesant is; dooth your mercy here;
ffor to late is, aftir ye goo to beere.
479
Take hede, excéllent prince, of your graunt-syre,How in his werkës he was merciáble;
He þat for mercy dydë, qwyte his hire!
He neuere was, in al his lyf, vengeáble,
But ay for-yaf the gylty and coupáble.
Our ligë lord your fadir, dith þe same;
Now folwe hem two, my lord, in goddis name!
480
They often haddë gret cause hem to venge,But hir spiritis bénigne and pesible
Thoghten þat craft vnlusty and alenge,
And fórbaar it; þei knewe it vnlisible.
To mercy were hir hertës ay flexible;
ffor-why with mercy god schal qwyte hem wel,
Aftir þe wordës write in þe gospell.
481
It is to leue and deme, if a kyng schyneIn vertu, þat his sonë schuldë sue,
And to his fadris manerës enclyne,
And wykked teichës and vices eschue:
Thus oghte it be, this to natúre is due.
He mot considre of whom he took hys kynde,
And folwe his vertu, as men writen fynde.
482
He moost is like to god, as seith Bernard,Þat holdeth no þing morë precious
Than to be merciful; it is ful hard
To lakkë mercy and ben vnpitous.
“Mercy wole I,” seith oure lord glorious;
He þat denyeth god, þát he wolde haue,
God nayte hym schal, þat he wil axe or craue.
483
Senek seith how þe kyng and þe ledereOf bees is prikkëles; he haþ right non
Wherwith to styngen, or annoye, or dere;
But othir bees, prikkës han euerichon;
Natúrë woldë sche schulde it for-goon,
And do no cruelte vnto þe swarm,
But mekely hem gouerne, & do non harm.
484
Of þis, ensample schuldë kyngës take,And princes, þat han peple for to gye;
ffor to hem longith it, for goddës sake,
To wayuë cruelte and tyrannye,
And to pitee, hir hertës bowe & wrye,
And reule hir peple esily and faire:
It is kyngly, be meeke and debonaire.
485
I rede of á kyng, þat Pirus was named,Whan hym was tolde, how þat men of Tarente
Hadde, at a festë, his estat diffamed,
He for þe samë folkës blyuë sente;
And whan þey cam, axid to what entente
They of hym spak so, and so foulë ferde;
And oon of hem, as ye schulle here, answerde:
486
“My lord, if þat þe wyne noght faillëd hadde,Al þat we spak, nerë but game and play,
Hauynge rewardë to þe wordës badde
That we thoghte haue I-spoken in good fay.”
The kyng took a laghtre, and wente his way,
And of al þat, he heeld hem ful excused:
He seide it wás wyne, þat so hem accused.
487
Wengeance, in þis good lord, haddë no stide;Mercy and humble disposicïoun
Dispensid with tho men, and grace hem dide,
And thriste vndír foote cruelte adoun.
O myghty princë! this condicïoun
To your highnessë is ful ácordant,
And vnto god al-myghty ryght plesant.
488
Power withouten mercy, a kyng tournethInto a tyraunt, war þat feendly spek!
ffor in what man þat cruelte soiourneth,
Vnto his soule it is an odious spek.
Tho men of god han nouthir look ne bek,
But if þat it be bekkës of manace,
Where as his mercy folweþ mochë grace.
489
Salomon in his prouerbis expressith,‘Mercy and trouthë, wardeynes ben of kyngës;
And with iustice also,’ as he witnéssith,
‘His trone is strengþed:’ what man þat a kyng is,
But if þat he, amongis oþir thyngës,
Endowëd he wiþ allë þisë thre,
Men seyn he halteth in his hyge degre.
490
A noble and glorious kynde of vengeance is,A kynght to spare, whan þat he sleë may.
Ther was a duc callid pisistaris,
Þat a yong doghtir haddë, a fair may,
Whiche with hir modir walkid on a day—
Naght seith the book whider, ne what to done,
But þus it schoop, as I schal tellë sone.
491
A yong, fresche, lusty, wel by-seyën manSo brente in loue, he wentë for to dye,
Rauyssht of þe beauté of þis womman,
This tendir yong morsel, þis doghter, I seye.
And as þis yong man mette hir in þe weye,
He at a leep was at hir, and hir kyste:
The modir, angry wood, whan sche it wiste,
492
Sche right anon hir lord, þe duc, be-soghteTo putte hym to þe deth for his trespas.
He seydë nay; to do þat neuere he þoghte:
“Schulle we sleen hem þat louen vs? allas!
What schuld we þanne in the contrárie cas,
That is to seyn, do to our enemys?”
Thus seide þis duc, mercïable and wys.
493
Allas! whi was þis womman so vengeáble?Certes, in þat sche lakked wommanhede.
This louer hadde ben deede, it is no fable,
If þis duc hadde ben like to hir in dede;
But mercy hym for-bad, any blood schede;
Sche and pitee weren of oon accord,
And senten pacïence vnto þis lord.
494
And for as mochil as þat pacïenceTo mercy as in lyne of blood atteyneth,
Now wole I do my payne and diligence,
To telle how hir benignyte restreyneth
The feruent hetë þat þe hertë pyneth
Wrechë cruel to take, and scharp vengeaunce,
Of þat þe herte of man felith greuaunce.
[§ 7.] De Paciencia.
495
Gregorius dicit, paciencia vera est, aliena mala equanimiter pati, & contra eum qui mala irrogat, nullo dolore mori.
Is, of harm doon to man, softë souffraunce,
And naght be wrooth, by no manere of way,
With hym þat hath y-doon a man nusance.
Socrates seith, no mannës gouernance
Is wys, but it be by suffrancë preeued;
A good man souffrith wrong, and is not greued.
496
The kynde of pacïence is to susteneMyghtily wrongës, and hem neuere wreke,
But hem for-yeue, and wratthe & irous tene
Out of þe hertë for to spere and steke.
Hir kynde is noght to lete a word out breke,
That harmful is; for hertë voyde of ire
Hath naght wherwith to sette a tonge afire.
497
O pacïent, o humble kyng benyngne!O kyng Dauid! þi pacïent meeknesse
Naght meeued was ageyn Semey maligne,
Whos hy malice and crabbid wikkidnesse
Yaf greet enchesoun to thy worthynesse
To vengë the; but þi benyngnite
ffor-bad þyn hand to kythë cruelte.
498
As this kyng onës cam to bahurim,Out cam þis man, malicïous Semey,
Sone of Gera, and swiche despite dide hym
And to his men, as by hym wenten they,
Castyngë stonës vnto hym alwey,
That wondir was; for which, on Abusay
Wolde haue hym slayn; but þe kyng seidë, “nay!
499
“Lat hym curse, aftir þe comaundëmentOf god; whan he seeth myn affliccïoun,
And my disese, and my grevous turment,
He wole, for þis dayës malicïoun,
Par áventurë, do me som guerdoun.”
Thus vndirstonde I, write is in þe bible,
Whiche is a book autentik and credible.
500
The paciënce of Iob, men may nat hyde,The comoun voys wole algate it by-wreye;
And Alisaundre, whos fame is sprad ful wyde,
fful pacïent was, as þe bookës seye.
A sad wys knyght of his with lokkës greye,
Grucchynge ageyn his fleschely lustës, seide
Vnto his lord, and þus he hym vp breyde:
501
“O Alisaundre! it is vncouenable,The for to haue of peple regyment,
Syn þi lust, bestial and miserable,
Hath qweynt thy resoun and entendëment
So ferforth, þat the hetë violent
Of leccherye is in þe, lord and sire;
Repreef, I dredë, qwytë schal þin hire.
502
“ffy! schamëles vnworthy gouernour!”And whan þe knyghtës talë was al endid,
The kyng answerde, “I knowë myn errour;”
And pacïently seide, “I haue offendid;
I woot it wel; and it schal be amendid.”
A man also to Iulius Cesar onës
Crabbidly seid, and schrewdly for þe nonës,
503
And among othir wordës þat he speek,“Iulius,” quod he, “make it noght so tow,
ffor of thy birthe art þou noght wort a leek:
Whens þat þou cam, men knowen wel I-now:
Wenest þou naght þat I can tellen how
Thy fadir was a bakere? o, lat be!
Ne make it nat so qweyntë, I pray the!”
504
Smylynge, vnto hym spak þis Emperour:“Whethir supposist þou bet, þat noblesse
Begynne in me, or noblesse and honour
Deffaile in þe?” this questïoun, I gesse,
Was, in swiche cas, but answer of softnesse;
ffor þat was seide in repreef of his name,
His pacïence, as who seith, took in game.
505
To þe chiualrous worþy ScipioOf Aufrik, also speek onës a wight,
And seide, “in armës durste he but smal do;
He faght but smal whan he cam to þe fight.”
And paciently answerde he anon right,
“My modir me bare, a childe feeble and smal,
And forth me broghte, and no fightere at al.”
506
Senek seith, how þe kyng AntigoneHerde onës folk speke of hym wikkedly,
ffor ther nas but a curtyn, as seith he,
Twixt hym and hem; and whan hys tyme he sy,
Aside he drow the curtyn sodenly,
And seidë, “gooth hens, lest þe kyng yow here,
ffor þe curtyn haþ herde al your matere.”
507
Of duc Pisistaris eek wil I telle:He hadde a freend, arispus was his name,
Whiche onës hastily, with wordës felle
Rebukid so þis duc, þat it was schame
To heren it; and yit, with sorwe and grame,
He in despyt spette in þis dukës face;
And he þerto no word spak in þat place.
508
He had him so in port & word and chere,Ryght as hym hadde be do no vilenye,
But luked forth in a freendely manere.
Now ther were in this dukës companye
His sonës two, that busked hem in hye
To this Arispus, and wolden ful fayn,
Nad hir fadir hem let, haue hym Islayn.
509
The nextë day after, this ArispusTo takë gan consideracïoun
How that he to þe duke mys-bare hym thus,
And madë morë waymentacïoun
Than I can make of nominacioun;
He wolde han slayn himselfe, it is no lese,
But that this duke broughte al to rest & pees.
510
Whan he knew how it with Arispus stood,He dressid him to him, and þat as swithë,
And bad him to be glad of cheere and mood;
He seide, and swoorë to him oftë sithë,
“As freendly wole I be, and stande as ny the
As I dide euere;” and thus his pacïencie
And meknesse hath qwenchid al þis offence.
511
Salomon seith, in him is sapienceThat is indewed with benyngne humblesse.
Grace of þe holy goost, no residence
Holdith in þat man þat lakkéth meeknesse.
God took vppon him humble buxumnesse
Whan he him wrappid in our mortell rynde:
That oughte a myrour be to al man-kynde.
512
Plesant to god was þe virginiteOf his modir; but verray god & man
Conseyued was thoruȝ þe humilite
Whiche he be-heeld in þat blyssed woman.
O humble maidë! who is it þat can
The debonaire humblessë tellen al,
Restynge in þy clennessë virginal?
513
Thogh þat þe humble were a foul habyt,Ȝit in vertuës glorious is he;
But þe proud man stant in anoþer plyt;
Thogh his array be fair & fresche to se,
His dedës and his werkës foulë be.
What hyȝe estate þat a man represente,
Humble to be, let hym sette his entente!
514
Humylite verray, as seith Cesárie,May neuere be with-outen charite;
And sche is a vertu most necessarie:
Amongës allë vertuës þat be,
Sche on hem alle opteeneth dignite.
They fro þe regne of god hem-self dyuyde,
That charite wayven and caste a-syde.
515
Right as a man ne may nat thider gooWhere he purposeth hym, but if a way
Be thiderward, seint Amselm seiþ, right so,
With-outen charite, men goo ne may
Aryght vnto godward: men mowen ay
Doon as him list, if þei ben charitable;
But lakkynge it, is no þing profitable.
516
Only keepyng of charitee vs preeveth,That we disciples ben of god almyghty.
What þing it be þat harmeth man or greueth,
By goodnesse ouercome it paciently;
No seint to heuene comyth, as rede I,
But by kepynge of pacïence, and how
Men may it lerë, wole I schewë yow.
517
Take heede how, whan þat crist oure sauëourWas bobbid, and his visage al be-spet,
And gret despit doon him, and déshonour,
Bounden and scourgëd & greuoúsly bett,
Crownëd with thorne, naylëd to þe gybett,
Ȝit, for al this tormént, no word he speeke,
So was he pacïent, benigne, and meke.
518
And syn our lord god was of swiche suffránce,Thanne is it to his crëaturë schame,
On greef to hym doon, take any vengeánce.
Man oghtë rathir sorowe for the blame
That god schal konne him þat hath done þe grame,
Than for þe harme þat þe greuéd haþ hent:
So doth þe charitáble and pacïent.
[§ 8.] De Castitate.
519
To chastite purpóse I now to haste,Whiche couenable is, and conuenient,
Vn-to a kyng for to sauoure and taaste.
What princë þat with vnclennesse is brent,
And ther-in settith his luste and talent,
No perfyt dede or werk him folwe may:
Mochil, is hertë chaast, to goddys pay.
520
Right as þe persone of a prince outwardHonúred is wiþ clothës precïous,
So aughte his hertë cloþid ben inward
With vertu, and hym kythë vertuous.
ffresche apparaile and hertë leccherous
Unsittynly ben in a Princë ioynt,
Namëly in a cristen kyng enoynt.
521
In as mochel as dignite of a kyngExcedith othir folk in reuerence,
The more hym oghtë peyne hym, lest al þing
Othir folk passe in vertuous excellence.
Honour noȝt ellës is in éxistence
Than reuerencë ȝeuen in witnesse
Of vertu, as þe scripturës expresse.
522
Honur, whiche was goten vertuously,Ne was naght first by dignite purcháced,
As þat Boecë telleþ éxpresly,
But dignitees honour was émbraced
With vertu; dignite had ben vnlaced
And vngirt of honour, nad vertu be;
ffor vertu hath hir propre dignite.
523
Aristotle counseilled Alisaundre,To leccherye he noght enclynë scholde,
ffor it [is] hoggës lif, whiche were esclaundre
To him, if he tho weiës takë wolde
That beestës resonles vsen and holde;
ffor of body it is destruccïoun,
And eek of al vertu corrupcioun.
524
Syn thei, þat naght were of cristen bapteme,Counseillëd men eschuë leccherie,
Than oghte vs cristen men þat vicë fleeme,
And swichë lustës in vs mortifie.
Who so entendeth in-to blisse stye,
That firy sparkle algate he moste qwenche,
And lustës leue, of lady and of wenche.
525
The scripture seïþ, no fornicatour,The regne of crist and god shal énherite;
It seith eek, that him and þe aduoutour
God demë shal; he can hir labour qwyte
fful scharply, that in tho tweynë delite,
And so he wolë, but correccioun
Be mannës scheeld, & his proteccioun.
526
Affrican Scipio, þat noble knyght,Whan he was xxti and iiij of age,
And by prowesse, and by manhode & myght
Cartágiens putte hadde into seruáge,
Ther was a mayde sent him into hostáge,
Of yeerës ripe I-now, and of beaute
Most excellent that men myghte owher se.
527
And whan þis worthi ȝong prince honurable,This woman sigh, of hir he took good ȝeme,
Thynkynge þat she was of beaute able,
The worthieste on lyuë for to queeme;
And in him multiplied thoughtës breeme;
But nathëles, for al þis besy þought,
Enquere he gan, if she wyf were, or nouȝt.
528
Sche trouthëd was to Iudibal, men seide,A lord of þat Citee; and Scipio,
On a mynystre of his þe chargë leide,
ffor hir fadir and modir blyuë goo.
Thei at his hestë cam vnto him tho;
And in hir clenë virginal estat,
Restorëd he þis mayde inuiolat.
529
The gold eek þat for hir redempciounPurveyëd was, for-ȝaf he vtterly,
In help and increes and promocïoun
Of hir wedlok. and whan Iudibal sy
And knewe how scipio thus nobl[el]y
Demenëd him, he was ful wel apayed
Of þat he grucchid first, and was affrayed.
530
He went vnto testatës of þe toun,And tolde hem al þe cas, as it befil;
And thei þis lord yaf loude and hy renoun
ffor þat; and allë, with oon hert and wil,
Submitted hem to þis princë gentil;
Thus hertë chaast and tendre gentillesse
Conquéreth hertës, rather þan duresse.
531
Or marcus marcellus had þe citeeOf Ciracusë taken or y-nome,
He leet do crye amongës his meyne,
That whan þe citee he had ouercome,
And his folk ther-in entred were & come,
Noon be so hardy, þe wommen oppresse,
Ne touche hem by no wey of vnclennesse.
532
Ther was also a seemly fresshe yong man,To whom naturë swiche fauour had lent
Of schap and beaute, þat þer nas womman
That onës had a look on hym dispent,
But þat hir hertë yaf flesshely consent;
And nathëles eschuëd he þe taast
Of vnclennesse, and kepte his body chaast.
533
By toknës knew he hire vnclene entente,And with his naylës cracched he his face,
And scocched it with knyuës, and to-rente,
And it so wonderly þus gan difface,
That his beaute refusëd hadde hir place:
Al þis dide he, hir hertës to remewe
ffrom him, and make hem vnclennésse eschue.
534
Ierom tellith, agayn Iouinian,A faire womman, a maidë clept Vlie,
Y-wedded was vnto an agëd man,
A Romayn, smyten with þe pallësie;
But sche in chastite was sette so hye,
That an ensaumple verrayliche was sche
To allë tho þat louëd chastitee.
535
Hire housbonde herde onès an enemy,Whiche þat he haddë, spoke in his repreef,
That his breth stank, as þat he stode him by;
Wher-of he toke gret heuynesse and greef;
He goth hoom to his wyf, and þis mescheef
fful heuely to hire he gan compleyne,
And þus of hire he gan to aske and freyne:
536
“Whi, wyf,” quod he, “han ye noght or this tymeI-warnëd me how þat it wiþ me stood?”
“Sire, it was nought,” quod sche, “aspied by me;
I held your breth ay also suete and good
As other mennës ben; I vnderstood
Non othir, ne yit do in sothfastnesse.”
fful fewë men had sche kist, as I gesse.
537
She hily was to preyse and to commende,That naght ne knewe by othir mennès mouthes
Hir makis vice: it was al wel, sche wende.
To fyndë many swiche ful vnkouthe is;
Lat vs awayte wel whan þe wynd south is
And north at onès blowynge on þe sky,
And fyndë swiche an hepe þan hardily.
538
Plato, his patrimoygne and his contreeLefte and for-sook, and dwelte in wildernesse,
ffor to restreynë fleschely nycete;
And his disciples louëd so clennesse,
And for to fallen hadden swiche gastnesse,
Hir eyën they out of hir heedës brente,
Lest sighte of hem, spottë myght her entente.
539
Demostenes his handës onës putteIn a wommannës bosom iapyngly,
Of facë faire, but of hir body a slutte:
“With yow to delë,” seide he, “what schal I
Yow yeuë?” “xl pens,” quod sche, soothly.
He seydë nay, so dere he byë nolde
A thyng for whiche þat him repentë schulde.
540
I fynde, how two doughtres of a duchesse,The fleschely touches of men for to fle,
When men of Hongary hem wolde oppresse,
In cónseruynge of hir virginite,
Thei hem purveyded a good sotilte:
Thei chiknës flesche putte vndirneþe hir pappes,
Hem to defendë from vnclenly happes.
541
Be-holde, of wommen here a noble wyle!In schort avisëment, who can do bet?
Bi that þis flesche þus hadde leyen a while,
And þat it was y-chaufëd wel and hete,
It stank so foulë, þat it haþ I-lette
Tho men, þat wery þei were of hir pray,
And fórsook þe wommen, and went hir way.
542
O wommanhode! in þe regneþ vertuSo excellent, þat to feble is my witt
To éxpresse it; wherefor I am eschu
To melde or make a long sermoun of it.
Som mannës mouth yit wolde I were I-schet,
That vice of wommen spareþ nought bywreye,
ffor allë soothës ben nought for to seie.
543
But for to talkë forth of contynenceOr chastite,—who-so chaast lyuë schal,
Moot scourge his fleschely lust with abstinence,
Thristë him dowyn, yeue him no place at al:
Metës & drynkës make a soulë thral,
If þe body be reulëd by excesse;
ffor-thi it nedeth take of hem þe lesse.
544
Excesse of mete and drynke is wombës frende,And wombe is next to oure membres priue;
Glotonye is ful plesant to þe fende,
To leccherië redy path is sche.
The fend lyth in a-wayte of oure freelte,
And stireth a man to drinkës delicat,
To make agaynës chastite debat.
545
A man schulde ete and drynke in swiche a wiseAs may be to his helthës sústenynge,
Aftir þe doctrine of Senek þe wise.
Sum man drynketh the wyn þat is wenynge;
Than he drynkeþ his witt: more is preysinge
And honurable, a man compleyne of thrist,
Than dronken be, whan he þe cuppe haþ kist.
546
Thus seidë Ierom vn-to a virgyne:“O doghter, syn thapostle sorë dredde
Lust of his flesche, and dide his body peyne,
And heeld it lowe, and symplëly it fedde,
Wherthoruȝ þe vice of vnclennesse he fledde,
Of continence how maist þou siker be,
Of foodë delicat þat hast plente,
547
And specialy now in þi youthës hete?”ffor who so wilneth to be contynent,
Many a lust superflu mot he lete,
And lykerous; by mesure, his talent
Mesúre he moot; whan resoun is regent
Of man, þan regneþ no delicacie;
Resoun, a man defendeth fro folye.
548
The wynës delicat, and swete and strong,Causen ful many an inconuenience;
If þat a man outrageously hem fonge,
Thei birien wit, and fórbeden scilence
Of conseil; thei outraien pacience,
Thei kyndlen ire, and firen liccherie,
And causen both body and soulë dye.
549
And trewëly it is ful perilousVnto a princë, whiche þat hath a land
In gouernance, in þat be vicïous;
It nedeth him take heede vnto his hand,
Þat that vicë him combre not; for and
It do, he schal noght regnë but a throwe:
fful many a man haþ éxcesse ouerthrowe.
550
Of babiloynë, þe kyng Baltasar,Nat haddë ben I-pryuëd of his lyf,
If he of dronkenessë hadde be war;
But for þat he þerin was défectyf,
It of his deth was verray causatyf;
By nyghtertale he was slayn by kyng dárie;
Thus payeth glotoun éxcesse hir salárie.
551
Thorugh drunkenesse, how took his deth Nabal?And how slow Tholome also Symoun?
Allas! þat drynkë so man seruë schal!
How leidë Lothës doghtres hem a-down
By hir fadir? whan his discrecïoun
Was dreynt with wyn, he with hem fleschely delte,
And þerof no thing ne wistë nor feelte.
552
How was eek Olofernë, by IudithThe womman slayn, but þorugh his drunkenesse?
What prince it be, þat spotted is þerwith,
His welthe haþ but a brotil stablenesse:
Of swichë stories mo wolde I expresse,
But for I noght ne can, I lete hem passe;
I am as lewed and dulle as is an asse.
553
With litel foodë, cóntent is natúre;And bet þe body farith wiþ a lite,
Than whan it charged is out of mesúre.
Lookë what þing may þe body profite,
And þe soule in þe samë schal delite;
What þing þat it distempereth & dissesith,
The soule it hurteth, for it god displesith.
554
Wratthë, þe body of man inward fretith,And god þer-wiþ displesid is ful sore;
Envie also of god and man hir getith
Lik thank and ese, and schal do euermore;
And leccherie, as techiþ smertës lore,
The body wastith, and þe soulë grevith,
And foodë delicat þerto man meevith.
555
Be-holde also, whan þat þe paunche is ful,A fumë clymbith vp in-to þe heed,
And makiþ a man al lustles and al dul;
He vexith heuy as a peece of leed.
Who-so þat þan woldë yeue him reed
To looke in a book of deuocïoun,
I trowe in ydel were his mocïoun.
556
But conseil him to trotte vnto þe wyn,And, for al his excesse and his outrage,
He þerto wole assentë wel and fyn,
And þerë wole he outen his langáge;
And do to Bachus and Venus homáge;
ffor non of hem two can be wel from othir,
Thei loue as vel as doth sustir & brothir.
557
And aftir moot he rownë with a pilwe,His lyfles resouns þerë to despende.
We beestës resonable, allas! whi wil we
Ageyn resoun werrye, and hir offende?
O goodë god! thy gracë to vs sende,
That we may fle suche superfluite,
And al þing that is foo to chastite!
[§ 9.] De Regis Magnanimitate.
558
Off magnanimite now wole I trete,Þat is to seyn, strong herte or grete corage,
Whiche in knyghthode haþ stablisshed hir sete.
Ye, gracious Prince, of blode and of lynage
Descendid ben, to haue it in vsage;
Mars haþ euer ben frend to ȝour worþi lyne;
Ye moot of kyndë to manhode enclyne.
559
He þat is strong of corage and of herte,—Yf he lordschipës haue, or grete richesse,
Or þat fortunës stynge hym ouerthwerte,—
Is alwey on in welthe and in distresse;
He, lucre and los, weyeth in euenesse;
He settiþ litel by good temperel;
How þe worlde schape, he takiþ it ay wel.
560
But for to speke of corage of a kyng,he of his peple oweþ be so cheer,
That hir profet he moot for any þing
Promotë wit his myght and his power.
And for his reme and him take him so neer,
That vnto þe perilës of bataille
He moot him puttë, and in hem trauaylle,
561
And in diffense of holy chirche also,And for oure feith putte him in iupartye;
Othir causes ben ther but fewë mo,
Whi a kyng aughte to bataylë hym hye,
And in tho causes drede him not to dye,
But kythe hym a good knyght a-mong his foos:
Thus wonne is magnanymyteës loos.
562
Right as we seen by reson and natúre,Part of mannys body diffendeth al;
As an arme putteþ him in áuenture
ffor þe body, þat nat perische it schal,
Right so a kyngës chertë special,
If he god loue, and his peple, & his land,
Whan nede is, mot diffende hem wiþ his hande.
563
Thoruȝ grete emprises wonne is hy renoun;Renoun is callëd glorie & honour;
Magnanimite haþ þis condicïoun,
That in bataile, how scharp þat be þe stour,
Hym leuere is to suffre dethës schour,
Than cowardly and schamëfully flee,
So manly of curáge and herte is he.
564
He medleth neuere but of þingës grete,And hye, and vertuous; he neuere is meeved
With smalë thingës, as the bookës trete;
And swiche a drede haþ for to be repreued,
That vnto þing þat may be knowe or preued
ffor vilonous, or foul, or répreeuáble,
He neuere obeieþ, þis knyȝt honuráble.
565
Thane I rede of oon clepet Coadrus,That was prince of þe oost of Athinyens,
How in þe feeld a lawë made was þus
Twixt his host and hem of Polipolens—
With triumphë schuldë þat part go þens,
Whos duc or Princë were vnarmëd slawe
In habit straungë; lo! swiche was þe lawe.
566
Him leuer was him selfen for to dye,And his men liuë, þan se hem be-stad
So streitë, þat by violent maistrie
His foos hadde hem venqwissht or ouer-lad.
A-dayës now is non swiche chierte had;
Algatës I ne can nat seen it vsid,
Knyghtës ben loth þerof to ben accused.
567
O worthi Prince! I truste in ȝour manhode,Medlid wiþ prudence and discrecïoun,
That ȝe schulle makë many a knyȝtly rode,
And þe pride of oure foos thristen adoun.
Manhode and witt conquéren hy renoun;
And qwo-so lakkiþ outhir of þe tweyne,
Of armës wantiþ þe bridél and reyne.
568
Yf þe ordre of knyghthode be resceyuëd,fful nedeful is a man to be prudent,
Ellës þat host may lightly be disceyuëd
That is vnto his gouernance I-bent;
Presumpcïon is disobedient
Al day, and by wisdom not will him gie,
All iustifieth his obstýnacie.
569
Ofte in batailës hath be seen or this,A sydë suffred hath discomfiture,
Whiche an vnwys heed giëd hath amys.
What knyght on hym takith þat charge or cure,
If he in knyghtly honur schal endure,
Him oghte endowëd ben of sapience,
And haue in armës greet experience.
570
Experience and art in a bataille,Of þe prudent knyght morë may profite,
Than hardinesse or forcë may auaille
Of him þat þerof knoweþ noght or lite.
Hardinesse, in effecte, nat worth a myte
Is to victorious conclusïoun,
But wiþ hym medle art, wit, and resoun.
571
Whan reueled wit and manly hardynesseBen knytte to-gidre, as ȝok of mariage,
Ther foloweþ of victórie þe swetnesse;
ffor to sette on hym whettith his coráge,
And wit restreyne his wil can & aswage
In tymë duë, and in couenáble;
And thus tho two ioynt ben ful profitable.
572
But be a knyght wys or coragëous,Or haue hem bothe at onès at his lust,
If þat his herte of good be désirous,
On his manhode is ther but litel trust.
God grauntë knyghtès rubbe away the rust
Of couetise, if it hir hertës cancre,
And graunte hem picche in souffisance hir ancre.
[§ 10.] Quod rex non debet felicitatem suam ponere in diuiciis.
573
Now, for as moche as magnanymyteMay no foot holde, if þat þe herte of man
Gretly vnto richesse enclynëd be,
Than is þe bestë reed þat I see can,
A kyng þer-in delyte hym naght; for whan
His herte is in þat vicë ficched hye,
Smal prowesse in hym wole it signifie.
574
And if a kyngës honour schal be queyntWith a foul and a wrecched couetise,
His peples trust in hym schal be ful feynt;
A kyng may naght gouérne hym in þat wise;
The coueitous may do no gret emprise;
ffor whan his hertë lurketh in his cofre,
His body to batayle he dar not profre.
575
If þat a kyng sette his felicitePrincipally on rychesse & moneye,
His peple it torneþ to aduersite,
ffor he ne rekkeþ in what wise or weye
He pile hem: allas! þat kyngës nobleye
Turnë schulde into style of tirranye!
Allas! the peril, harme, and vilenye!
576
God I byseeche, your hert to enlumyne,Gracïous princë, þat þe feend our foo
No power hauë so your hertë myne,
But of his gracë kepë yow ther-fro,
And grantë yow to gouernë yow so
As most holsom is for bodý and soule;
That desire I, by God and by seynt Poule.
577
Whan that Marcus Curcius, a Romeyn,Vnto þe Beneventans seegë leide,
ffor he was poore, as þat þey herdë seyn,
They a grete somme of gold hym sente, & preyde
Withdrawe his seege; and he answerde and seide,
“To hem retourneth / þat yow hider sente,
And thus to hem declareth myn entente:
578
“Seye hem, Marcus Curcïus leuer isRichë men haue at his commandëment,
Than to be riche hym-self; tellë hem this:
He may with gold not be corrupt, ne blent;
Of force of men eek, þey ben impotent
To venqwisshe hym; for þere hir art schal faile,
Hir blyndë profers schal hem noght auaile.”
579
To Alisaundre, as I schal tellen here,A knyght, whiche was vnto hym specïal,
Thus spake, and blamed hym in þis manere:
He seide, “if oure goddës thy body smal,
To thi gredy desire had maad egal,
Al þe world haddë nouȝt be súffisant
To han receyuëd so large a Geaunt.
580
“ffor with þi riȝt honde, thow þe orientShuldest han touchid, I am sure of þat;
And with þi list honde, eke þe occident;
Now, syn þat þy body answérith nat
Vnto þi willë, what may I sey, what?
Ethir þou art a man, or god, or nouȝt;
Mechil of þe, merueyle I in my þought.
581
“If þou be god, thow folow most his trace,And nouȝt men of her gode robbe or be-reue,
But hem releue, & do hem ese and grace.
If þou be man, considere eke, by thy leue,
Þou art mortél, þou mayst be dede or eue.
If þou be no þing, þe putte out of mynde,
Os he þat is of no nature or kynde.
582
“Ther is no hye estate so sadde and stable,Remembre wele, lat it nat be for-ȝete,
But he to falle in perile is ful able.
By deeth, a leon maad is briddës mete,
And bestës also his flessh gnawe & frete.”
Þe answere of þe kyng, naught haue I herde;
My booke not telleth how he was answerde.
583
Senek seith, the poër Diogenes,Kyng Alisandre in richessë past,
ffor he ne myȝt, as he seith doutëles,
Ȝeue hym so mochil golde, ne on hym cast,
As he refusë wolde: O! at the last,
Men þinke shullen þei to mochil haue had,
And of þis worldys muk be ful vnglad.
584
Desire of good, a king mot leye apart,And peyne him to purcháse him a good fame;
Ther-in lat him laboure, and doon his art;
Ther nys no þing vnto a worthi name;
And if a kyng it lakke, it were his shame,
And shame is contrarie vnto worthynesse;
Gode lose desserued, is grettest richesse.
585
And for largessë wynneþ gode renoun,Ther-of þink I now, to trete a litil stounde;
A prince & kyng of al a regioun
Mot avaricë thrist a-doune to grounde;
To hym þat lith in hellë depe I-bounde,
The, auarice, by-takë I to kepe;
Thow pynëpeny, ther ay mot þou slepe!
586
Golde wolde, for false enprisonyng, a writSue agayn þe, if he at largë were;
But he so fast is in þi cofre shit,
He may not out. O fals enprisonere,
Largessë woldë be with shelde & spere
Euen in þi berde, if he brake out to-morwe,
And for his sakë do thë care and sorwe.
587
Þou to largessë dost ful muchil wronge,Þat haþ hir seruant vndir þi seruage;
On the, and noght on hir, is it a-longe
Þat golde is lette to goon on hir message.
She haþ hym sent in many a viage
Or this, & that was the comoun profyte,
The whiche to lette, is euere þi delyte.
588
Largesse only noght list golde seruant beVnto hir self; but the peple, she wolde
Had as gode part of hir seruyce as she;
To hir is al the comoun peple I-holde,
But þou makest þe peplës hertës colde;
Þou slest an hepë which þat she wolde saue;
Þou no wyte helpest, þow he þi help craue.
589
Me list no morë speke of þe this tyme,But of myne helply lady souereyne
Largessë, my ladý, now wil I ryme,
And aftirward of þi cursëd careyne
I spekë shal; nought o worde wol I feyne,
But as scripturës treten of the, wrecche,
I touchë shal; þe feende the hennës fecche!
[§ 11.] De Virtute Largitatis, & De Vicio Prodigalitatis.
590
Aristoteles de regimine principum, capitulo de largitate. ‘Si vis virtutem largitatis adquirere, considera posse tuum, tempora necessitatis & merita hominis,’ &c.
Who vertuously largë list to be,
Concider first of what power he is,
And eke the tymës of necessite;
And as þe men disseruen, so be fre;
Yif in mesure vn-to þe indigent
And the worthi, and þat is wel dispent.
591
And who doth othir wyse in his ȝeuyng,Largesses rulë passith and excedith;
He nouther worthi is þank ne preysyng,
That to hym þat no nede hath, ȝiftës bedith.
Of verray folye also it procedith
To ȝeuë the onworthi; for þat cost
All mysse dispendid is, for it is lost.
592
And he þat díspendith out of mesúreShal tast a-none pouértes bitternesse;
ffoole largesse is ther-to a verray lure.
Of hem also he berith the lyknesse,
That on him self, as þe booke berith witnesse,
Victórie ȝeueth to his enemys;
And he þat so dispendith, is not wyse.
593
Largessë stant noght in mochil ȝeuynge,But it is aftir þe wille & þe myght
Of hym þat ȝeueth aftir his hauynge;
ffor it may som tyme happë þat a wight,
Which of richessë berith nat but light,
Ȝeueth but smal; & ȝit larger is he
Than he þat ȝeueth gretter quantite.
594
Aftir his goode, man may ȝeue & dispendeWher as nede is; but he þat al dispendith,
And wastith al, shal him-selue first offende.
ffoolë largesse al day wrycchédly endith;
Many a man hir foule outragë shendith;
But of largesse is goode þe gouernaunce;
Bothë to god and man it is plesaunce.
595
Evene as a mannës blood is norisshyngTo his body, if it corrupt naght be,
So ben richesses to soulës feedynge
Holsom, if þei, were-as necessite
Axith, despent ben, and also if he
Whiche þat hem wan, gat hem with riȝtwisnesse;
ffor heuene and helle is gotë by richesse.
596
A crookid hors neuere is the bet entecched,Al-þogh his bridel glistre of gold, and schyne;
Right so a man þat vicious is, & wrecched,
And his richésses gote haþ of rapyne,
And also euele as man can ýmagyne,
Despendith hem / naght for hem þe bet is,
But mochil wers; good is take hede of þis.
597
He þat his flesche dispendith, and his blood,Mi lorde, in ȝour seruice, him ȝiftës bede;
There is largessë mesuráble good;
A kyng so bounde is, he moot doo so nede;
Seruice vnquyt and murdre, it is no drede,
As clerkes writen, and desheritaunce,
Bifore al-mighty god auxen vengeaunce.
598
Of fool largessë wole I talke a space;How it befil, I not in what contree,
But þere was oon named Iohn of Canace,
A richë man, & two douȝtres had he,
That to two worthy men of a Citee
He wedded leet; and þerë was gladnesse
And reuel, morë than I can expresse.
599
The fadir, his doughtres and hir husbondesLoued ful wele, and had hem leef & dere;
Tyme to tyme he ȝaf hem with his hondes
Of his goode passyngly; & þei swich chere
Him made, & were of so plesant manere
Þat he ne wist how be bettre at ese,
Þei couden hym so wele cheryssh & please.
600
ffor he as mochil hauntid in partieHir house, as þat he did his ownë house;
Þei held hym vp so with her flaterye,
That of dispens he was outragëous,
And of goodë þei were ay desirous;
Al þat þei axed, haden þei redy;
Þei euer weren on hym right gredy.
601
Þis sely man contynued his outráge,Tyl al his goodë was disshid & goone;
And when þei felt his dispenses a-swage,
Thei wax to him vnkyndë right anone;
ffor after haddë he cherishing none,
Thei wery weren of his companye:
And he was wyse, and shope a remedye.
602
He to a marchaunt goose, of his notise,Wich þat his trusty frende had be ful ȝore,
Besechyng hym, þat he wold hym cheuyse
Of ten thousand pounde, ne lenger ne more
Than dayës thre, and he wolde it restore
At his day; þis was done; þe summe he hent,
And to his ownë house þer-with he went.
603
And on the mornë, prayde he to soupereHis sonnës both & his doughtres also.
Þei to him cam, with-owten any daungere:
How þat þei ferden, lat I passe and goo;
Thei ferden wel, with-outen wordës moo;
To his konyng, he grete disport hem made,
He did his myght to chere hem, & to glade.
604
Aftir souper, whan þei hir tymë sye,Þei toke her leue, & home þei wolde al-gate;
And he answered, and seyde hem sekirly,
“This nyȝt ye shul nat passe out of the gate;
Your house is fer, and it is dyrke and late;
Neuen it nat, for it shal nat be-tyde;”
And so al nyȝt he made hem to abyde.
605
The fadir logëd hem, of sly purpóse,In a chambre next to his ioynyng;
ffor by-twix hem nas þer but a parclose
Of bordë, nauȝt but of homly makyng;
Þurgh out þe which, at many a chynnyng,
In echë chambre þei myghten beholde,
And see what othir dyden, if þat þei wolde.
606
I kan nat sey how þei slepten þat nyȝt;Also it longith nat to my matere;
But on þe morwë, at brodë day liȝt
The fadir roose; and for þei shulden here
What þat he dyd, in a boystous manere
Vnto his chist, which þat three lokkys hadde,
He went, and þer-at wrested he ful sadde.
607
And when it was I-opned & vnshytte,Þe bagged gold by þe marchaunt hym lent
He hath vncofred, and streyte forþ with it
Vnto his beddis feete gone is & went.
What doth þan þis fel man & right prudent,
But out þis golde on a tippet hath shotte,
That in þe baggës leftë þere no grotte.
608
And al þis did he noght but for a wyle,As þat ye shul wel knowen aftirwarde;
He shope his sonnës & doughtres begile.
His noysë made hem dressen hem vpwarde;
Þei cast her erës to his chambre-warde,
And herd of golde þe russhyng and the soun,
As that he rudëly threwe hem adoun.
609
And to þe parclos þei hem hast and hye,To wyte and knowë what her fadir wrought.
In at þe chynnës of þe borde þei prye,
And sigh how he amonge þe nobles sought
If défectif were any, as hem þought;
And on his nayl he threwe hem oft & cast,
And baggëd hem and cofred at the last;
610
And opned his dore, & dounë goth his wey.And aftir blyue, out of hir bedde þei rise,
And cam doune eke: hir fadir þanken þey
Of his gode cherë, in hir bestë wyse,—
And al was for þe goldës couetyse,—
And to gon hoom, þei axid of hym leue;
Thei ben departyd, and þei þere hym leue.
611
Walkyng homward, þei iangeld fast, & speekeOf þe golde which þei sey hir fadir haue.
Oon seyd, “I wondre ther-on;” “and I eke,”
Quod a-nothir, “for, also god me saue,
Ȝistir-day, thogh I shuld in-to my graue
Haue crept, I durst on it haue leyde my lyfe,
That golde with hym nought haddë ben so ryfe.”
612
Now lat hem muse on þat, what so hem list;And to hir fadir now wol I me dresse.
He al þis golde takith out of his chist,
And to þe marchaunt payde it more & lesse,
Þankyng hym often of his kyndënesse;
And þennës goth he homë to his mete,
And to his sonnës house when he had ete.
613
When he cam thidir, thei made of hym moreÞan þat þei werë wont, by many folde;
So gret disport þei made hym noȝt ful ȝore.
“ffadir,” quod þei, “þis is your owne housholde;
In feith, þer is no þing within oure holde,
But it shal be at your comandëment;
Wolde god þat ye weren at oure assent,
614
Þennë we shulden ay to-gedir dwelle.”Al what þei menten, wist he wel I-now:
“Sonnës and doughtres,” quod he, “soth to telle,
Mi wille is goode also to be with yow.
How shuld I myrier be? nat wot I how,
Than with yow for to be continuel;
Your companyë liketh me ful wel.”
615
Now shope it so, þei helden house in fere,Sauf þe fadir; and as þei lough & pleyde,
His doughtres bothë with a lawghyng chere
Vn-to hir fadir spake, and þus þei seyde,
And to assoile hir questïoun hym preyde:
“Now, godë fadir, how mochil monye
In your strong bounden chist is, we yow preye?
616
“Ten thousand pounde,” he seide, & lyëd lowde,“I told hem,” quod he, “nat ful long agoo,
And þat as redely as þat I cowde.
Ȝif ye wil aftir þis do to me so
As ye haue done by-fornë, þan al tho
I in my testament disposë shal
ffor your profytë; yours it shal ben al.”
617
Aftir þis day, þei all in oon house were,Til þe day com of þe fadirs deying.
Goode mete and drynke, and clothës for to were
He had, and payëd nat to his endyng.
When he sey þe tyme of his départyng,
His sonës and his doughtres did he calle,
And in this wise he spakë to hem alle:
618
“Nat purpose I make othir testament,But of þat is in my strong chist I-bounde;
And riȝt anone, or I be hennës hent,
An hundred pound of nobles gode and rounde,
Takith to prechours; tarryeth it no stounde;
An hundred pound eke to þe frerës grey,
And carmës fifty: tarrye it nought, I sey.
619
“And when I buried am, of hem the keyesOf my chist takith, for þat þei hem kepe;
By euery keyë writen ben the weyes
Of my wille.” þis golde was nat suffred slepe;
It was anone dalt, for hir hertis depe
Stak in his bounden cofre, and al hir hope
Was godë bagges þerin for to grope.
620
To euery chirche and recluse of þe toune,Bad hem eeke of golde ȝeue a quantite:
Al as he bad, þei weren prest and boune,
And did it blyuë; but, so mot I the,
fful slily he disceyuyd þis meyne,
His sonnës and his doughtres boþ, I mene;
Hir berdës shauëd he right smothe & clene.
621
When he was dede, and his exéquies do,Solenily þei to þe frerës ȝide,
And bad þo keyes delyuere hem vn-to;
And as þat þei hem beden, so þei dide.
Tho ioyful sonës dresse hem to þe stide
Wher as þis strongë bounden chistë stoode;
But or þei twynned þens, þei pekkid moode.
622
Thei opneden þe chist, & fonde riȝt noughtBut a passyngly greet sergeántës mace,
In which ther gaily made was and I-wrought
This samë scripture: “I, Iohn of Canace,
Makë swhich testament here in þis place;
Who berith charge of othir men, & is
Of hem despisëd, slayn be he with this.”
623
Among folïes all is noon, I leue,More þan a man his gode ful largëly
Despende, in hopë men wol hym releue
Whan his gode is despendid vtterly;
The indigént men setten no þing by.
I, Hoccleue, in swich case am gilty, þis me touchith,
So seith pouert, which oon foole large him vouchith.
624
ffor þogh I neuer were of hy degree,Ne haddë mochil gode ne gret richesse,
Ȝit hath þe vice of prodigalite
Smerted me sore, & done me hevynesse.
He þat but litil hath, may done excesse
In his degree, as wel as may þe riche,
Thogh hir dispenses werë nat elyche.
625
So haue I plukked at my pursë strynges,And made hem often for to gape & gane,
Þat his smal stuf hath take hym to his wynges,
And hath I-sworne to be my welthës bane,
But if releef a-way my sorowe plane;
And whens it comë shal, can I nought gesse,
Mi lorde, but it procede of your hynesse.
626
I me repent of my mysrewly lyfe;Wherfor, in þé wey of sauacïoun
I hope I be; my dotage éxcessyfe
Hath put me to swich castigacïoun,
Þat indigence hath dominacïoun
On me; o! had I help, now wolde I thryue,
And so ne did I neuer ȝit in my lyue.
627
My yeerly guerdoun, myn annuite,That was me graunted for my long labóur,
Is al behynde, I may naght payëd be,
Whiche causeth me to lyuen in langour.
O liberal prince! ensample of honour!
Vnto your gracë lyke it to promoote
Mi poore estat, and to my woo beth boote!
628
And, worþy prince, at cristës reuerenceHerkeneth what I schal seyn, and be noght greued,
But lat me stande in your beneuolence;
ffor if myn hertës wil wiste were, and preeued,
How yow to loue it stirëd is and meeved,
Ye schulden knowe, y your honour and welþe
Triste and desire, and eek your soulës helþe.
629
In al my book ye schul naght see ne fynde,That I youre dedës lakke, or hem despreise;
But for I woldë þat ye hadde in mynde
Swich thyng as your renoun myghte vp areyse,
I write as my symple conceyt may peyse;
And trustith wel, al þat my pennë seith,
Proceedith of good herte and trewe, in feith.
630
What kyng þat dooth more éxcessif despensesThan his land may to suffice or atteyne,
Schal be destruëd, after þe sentences
Of Aristotle; he schal naght fle þe peyne.
ffoolë largësse and avarice, þo tweyne,
If þat a kyng eschue, & largë be,
Reioyse he schal his rëal dignite.
631
How fool largesse a kyng destroyë may,As blyuë wole I vnto yow declare:
ffool largessë yeueþ so moche a-way,
That it þe kyngës cofres makeþ bare,
And þanne awakiþ poorë peples care;
ffor al þat sche dispendid haþ & wastid,
They moot releuë, therto be þey hastid.
632
The Tylere with his porë cote and land,That may vnnethës gete his sustenance,
And he þat naght haþ but labóur of hand,
Ben often put vnto ful smert nusance.
Good is be-ware of goddës long suffrance;
Thogh he to venge hym tarie, & be suffráble,
Whan his strook cometh, it is importáble.
633
Naght speke I ageyn eidës vttirly,In sum cas þey ben good and necessárie;
But whan þey goon to custumáblely,
The peple it makiþ for to curse and warie:
And if þey ben despended in contrárie
Of þat þey graunted of þe peple were,
The morë grucchen þey þe cost to bere.
634
The pot so longë to þe watir goth,That hoom it cometh at þe laste y-broke.
Whan þat þe peple, with a cherë loth,
Hir purs y-emptid haue, & eek hir poke,
Hem þynkith þat þey ouer nyh ben soke.
What harm of þat to kynges haþ be-tid,
Scripturës tellen; it may nought ben hid.
635
But fauel naght reportith tho scripturis;His lordës soulë salue, he from hym hydith;
He besieth hym so in sly portraituris,
Þat homly trouthë naght with hym abidith;
The swetë venym of his tongë gydeth
His lord vnto þe valeie of dirknesse,
If he gouérne hym by his fykilnesse.
636
The trewë man, if he may apparceyueA défaute in his lord, as othir while
It happith, he his lord it redith weyue,
And bit hym to vertu hym reconsile;
And yit fauel, þe net of fraude and gile,
The þank hath, and þat othir þe maugree:
O god! þat verray trouþe art for to see.
637
Who þat, fro drede of any lord or syre,Hydeth þe trouthe, and naght wil it out seie,
He vppon hym prouokith goddës yre,
ffor þat he more of man than god hath eye.
They þat þe trouthë of hir hertes bywreye
To lordës, and telle hem hir wicked lyf,
No grace in hem fynden for hir motyf.
638
But bet, for trouthe is to suffre turment,Than richëly enhauncëd be for glose.
If þis lyf herë be naght wel dispent,
I wot it wel, I wele it naght suppose,
God wole his regnë from vs schitte & close.
Here is þe way to peynë, or to blisse;
Who so wel dooth, of yoye he may naght misse.
639
Eternel god, the blessid trinite,Whiche þat euery man of cristen byleeue
Knoweth an vndyuyded vnite,
His mercy and his gracë kythe & preeue
In yow, my lord; þat so your dedës cheeue
As þat your soule, aftir þis lyf present,
To heuene blisse vp may be take & hent.
[§ 12.] De Vicio Auaricie.
640
Now go we to þe Auericïous,To whom non hábundancë may suffice.
A chynchë neuere can be plentevous
Thogh al were his; swiche is his couetise;
To thriste ay aftir more, it is his gyse;
He is þe swolwe þat is neuere ful:
At Auericë now haue here a pul.
641
Sche may, as god forbede, vndo a kyngThurgh hire insaciable gredynesse.
Hire herte is sette vppon non oþer þing
But how sche may golde hepe; al in dirknesse
Lurkith þe purchas of hire egrenesse;
In bagges vndir lok, hir gold sche thristeth;
Al to þe cofre it goth, and al sche chistith.
642
There is it hidde; no sonne it seeþ, ne moone;Thogh al þe world steruë schulde on a day
ffor lak of good, naght were it for to done
To borwe of hire; euere is hir answere nay;
That sche naght haþ, also sche swerith ay.
Hir nature is to kepe, and naght despende,
And hir desir of good ne hath non ende.
643
Auarice is a loue inmoderat,Richésses temporel for to purcháce;
Sche besieth hir in euerych estat;
Sche shapith hir al þe world to embrace
ffro þe morë to þe lessë; hir trace
To suë, studien men, seith Ysaye,
And sche þe thraldom is of Maumetrye.
644
Sche is a couetysë éxcessyfOf othres good; & of hire ownë, sche
So streit and hard is, and so rétentyf,
That it profytë may in no degree.
O auericïous, what eilith þee?
Þe goodës whyichë ben vnto þe lent,
Why hydest þou? I-wis þou wilt be schent.
645
Weenest þou þat þou doost naght wickedly,Þat so many a manys sustenance
Thi self wiþ-holdest soul? yis, hardily.
Thow þat of richesse hast greet habundaunce,
And to þe nedy yeuest no pitaunce,
No lesse offendist þou than he þat schakith
Men out of hire good, and from hem it takith.
646
Thus may thy stylë likned be to thefte;As a theef in þis world is hangid here,
ffor good whiche þat he of þe peple refte,
So schalt þou honge in helle, and bye it deere,
But if so be, or þou goo to þi beere,
Thow córrectë thy greedy appetyt,
And of streit kepynge emptë þy delyt.
647
The breed of hungry peple þou with-holdist,And schutest vp the nakid mennës cloth
That keuere hem sholde; if þou oght of god toldist,
ffor to doo so, þou woldest be ful loth.
Al þat þou getist, to hid place it goth.
As many men, hir good þow hem byreuest
As þou releuë myghtest, and it leuest.
648
Who so þat fro þe poorë mannës cryStoppith his erës, þogh he lowdë crye,
Schal naght be herde; and more ouer, rede y,
His dayës schulle encresse & multiplie
That auerice hatith, þis is no lye.
Werse is no þing þan to loue moneye,
As þat Ecclesiasticus can seye.
649
Ambrosë seith, war, man, þat þou ne schitteWith-in þi purs þe nedy peples hele,
And to þe buriellës naght committe
The lyf of poorë men; ȝeue hem, & dele
Part of þi good; o, þy baggës vnsele;
Opne hem; hir knyttynge al to sore annoyeth;
Thy pynëd stuf, many a man destroyeth.
650
Thow seist per cas, “yf I no man byreueHis good, what wrong, myn owne is it to hyde
And multiplie?” o, chynchë! by þi leue,
What seist þou is þin? what was þin, þat tyde
Thow cam in-to þis world, þou homycide?
Thow broghtist naght; claymë no propertee
Of thing þat oghtë communë to be.
651
Thi talkinge and þi clap is al of erthe,And þe ground for-þi schal answere the,
ffor þat þe loue of muk sittith so neer þe.
Of him þat hath of goodës gret plentee,
Of god and man mochil axid schal be;
Thow schalt be rekned with, heer-aftir, chynche,
Where as þou schalt not at þe acountës pynche.
652
By what title þat þou getist þi good,Thow countist naght þe value of a myte;
Thyn hert is euermore on gold so wood,
That no thing ellës canst þou in delite;
Of conscïencë rekkist þou so lite,
What goodis þat þou getist of rapyne,
Þou hem affermest by good title þyne.
653
ffeith and prowessë, leist þou vndir foote,And techist folk to haue in hem-self pride;
And cruelte hath caght in þe swiche roote,
That sche noght slippë may fro þe, ne slyde;
And euery vertu throwest þou a-syde.
O, euery prince and kyng moot ben eschu,
In al maneere, of þi lym and þi glu.
654
ffor ellës is it light to vndirstonde,To euery man þat wit can & resoun,
It is nat likly, á kyng for to stonde
In his welthë but a litil sesoun,
ffor Auaricë may ben énchesoun
His peple to destroyen and oppresse;
And, as I saydë, so may fool largesse.
655
ffool largesse is a sekenesse curable,Outhir of indigence, othir ellës age;
He þat fool large in ȝouthe is, is ful able
In eldë to abate it and aswage,
ffor agid folk ben more in þe seruage
Of auaricë þan ben folk in yowthe;
And what I schal eek seyn, herkneth wel nowþe.
656
Of nede eek may it curid ben, and helid;A man may so largë despenses make,
Til al is good be díspendid and delid;
And whan his purs y-emptid is, and schake,
Than, begynneþ indigence a-wake,
By whiche he cured is of þe seekenesse
Of prodigalitee, or fool largesse.
657
But auarice, he seith, incurable is;ffor ay þe more a man þerin procedith
And wexith olde, so mochil more I-wys,
He auaricious is; in him naght breedith
But thoght and woo, for ay his hertë dreedith
His good to leese; and morë for to hepe
His thoghtës stirten heere & þere, and lepe.
658
Now if þe heed of al a regioun,By whom þat al gouérned is and gyed,
Be of so seekly a condicïoun,
That it may by no curë be maistryed,
Thanne is he to þe wersë part applied;
And as the philosofre seith vs to,
The lessë wikke is fool largesse of two.
659
The philosofre preeueth AuariceWel wersë þan is prodigalite:
By thre causes he halt it gretter vice:
ffirst, he seith, it is better seek to be,
Of a sekenesse or infirmite
Of whiche a man may haue rekeueryng,
Þan of swiche on as þer is non helyng.
660
The seconde cause is, prodigaliteeIs morë ny to vertu many del
Than Auerice; and why, ye schul wele see:
He þat is liberal, naght list so wel
ffor to receyue any good or catell
As yeuë, but what man þat is fool large
To take and yeuë, yeueth he no charge.
661
Wherfore he seiþ, þere is no differenceTwixt fool largesse and liberalitee,
Sauf þe fool largë, óf his imprudénce,
Of his dispenses is to dislauee,
And yeueth there as oghtë naght to be;
And for what cause also, and for what skile
He yeuë schal, non hede he takë wile.
662
And syn fool large, on gold settiþ his herteNo morë þan þe liberal, þan may
ffool large into liberalite sterte
lightly ynow. for vertu is kynges pray,
He Auerice eschuë mot alway,
By causë sche more is contrarious
To vertu, þan the large outragëous.
663
The þriddë skile is, for a kyng is setIn his remë for his peples releef,
ffor þey schulden for hym fare þe bet;
But þe streyt chynchë qwencheþ neuere greef;
His gold is neuere saluë to myschef;
Only to gadre and kepe, he hym delitith;
But þe fool largë, many man profitith;
664
Yit vices ben þey gretë bothë tweyne.O! worþy princë, take on yow largesse;
Dooth so, o gracious lord, for goddës peyne!
Largesse I-put is vnto þe liknesse
Of vessels, whos mouthës han gret wydnesse,
And hilde out hir licóur habundantly;
Thus seith þe philosofre trewëly.
665
And in as mochil as a welle also,At þe whiche many folk hir water fecche,
Nedith to han the larger mouth; right so
The largesse of a kyng moot ferþer strecche,
If he of his estat any þing recche,
Than oþer mennës; for hir impotence
Strecchiþ naght so fer as his influence.
666
Largesse is ‘liberalitee’ y-callid,And likned is vnto hem þat ben free;
But he þat auaricious is, is thrallid
To moneie. a kyng moot algatës flee
A chynchës hertë, for his honeste
And for þe profyte, as I seide aboue,
Of his peple, if he þynke wynne here loue.
667
Victorie and honour, he schal hym purcháseThat is of yiftës fre; but war alway
That he naght tarye ne delaye his grace;
Dryue it noght forth vnto anoþer day,
Whan, if hym list, anon he yeuë may;
Yeue it as blyue, hys þank is wel þe more;
This vouche I on holy scripturës lore.
668
The vertu is of liberalitee,Yeue and dispende, in place and in tyme due;
Right as largessë dooth in swiche degree,
They bothë moot in hir conseytes chue
Where is good yeue, and wherë to eschue,
The persone, and þe somme, and causë why:
What þey yeuen, yeue it vertuously.
669
But it naght longeth to þe liberalTo yeue hym good þat vseþ flaterie;
His menynge and his éntencïoun final
On fals plesance, is set for briberie;
He is þe verray cofre of treccherie;
His doublenesse his lord doun ouerthroweþ;
The seed of his confusïoun he soweþ.
670
That man I-born is in a blissed hour,Whom þat pitee, dissert, or kyndënesse,
Stiren to yeue, or mynystre hym socour,
That infortunës strokës bitternesse
I-woundid hath wiþ pouertes scharpnesse:
Nat mene I hem þat hire, and fees and wages,
Hath at þe dees loost, and hir heritáges;
671
But þo þat men welthy han ben byfore,And vertuous ben, and han hir goodë lost,
And can not beggë, to be deed þerfore;
On hem ful wel bystowëd is þe cost.
But welaway! as harde as is a post—
A post? nay, as a stoon—ben hertës now!
Lordës, for schamë! what þing eyleth yow?
672
A gentil hertë, for to begge haþ schame;His rody schamfastnessë dar not preye.
Ye þat of gentillesse han stile & name,
Lat nat your poorë bretheren by yow deye!
Se vnto hem, thogh þey nat speke or seie.
Is pitee fro yow fled? calle hir agayn!
ffor hir absence haþ many good man slayn.
673
Senek seith, hé haþ nat þat þing for noght,That byeth it by speche and by prayere.
There is no thyng þat is in eerthë wroght,
As þat he seith, þat is y-bought so deere;
It standith streytë, whan it schal apere,
ffor it is vois of wrecchidnesse and sorwe,
Whan þat a man schal praye, or begge, or borwe.
674
Allas! þogh þat a man disceuere & pleyneTo many a lord his méscheuous myserie,
The lord naght deyneth vndirstonde his peyne;
He settith noght þerby a blakberie.
Welthe in þe lordës sayl bloweþ ful merye;
But the nedy berith his sail so lowe,
That no wynd of comfórt may in hit blowe.
675
Of liberalitee yit forthermoreI tellë wole, as þat I haue herd seyn
Amongës wysë folk, gon is ful yore.
What man a ledere is, or a chiefteyn
Of peple, his labour is al wast and veyn,
But he be fre vnto his sowdëours,
If þat he sekë conquest of honours.
676
And specialy þat he hir duëteeAbriggë naght, ne naght syncope hir wages
That hem assigned ben: in certeyntee,
Peril of schamë folwen swiche vságes.
Whan al a-counted is, tho auantáges
That founded ben of wrong and on repreef,
Ben naght but auantáges of mescheef.
677
This makith couetise or AuariceRoote of al harmës, fo to conscïence;
Of wikked purchas is sche Emperice,
And mochil hath, and ay haþ indigence.
Sho rather wil lyuen in abstinence
Of mete and drynkë, for hertës scantnesse,
Than for þe soule or bodyes holsumnesse.
678
Prince excellent! so moot ye wirke and wilneAs may your soulës helthë edifie;
And a-mong othir þingës, þat your wilne
Be infecte wiþ no wrecched chyncherie.
Largesse mesúrable vnto yow tye,
And fool largessë voydeth fro yow clene
ffor free largessë is a vertuous mene.
[§ 13.] De regis prudencia.
679
Now, gracious princë, lyke it yow to wyteThat touche I thynke of a kyngës prudence,
As þat I ther-of fynde in bookës write.
Prudence is callid wit and sapience,
And needës moot rëal magnificence
Be prudent, as þat þé scripture vs lereth,
If he schal ben as his estate requerith.
680
Prudence, attemperancë, strengthe, and right,Tho fourë ben vertuës principal;
Prudencë gooth by-fore, and ȝeueth light
Of counseil, what þo other thre do schal,
That þey may wirkë, be it greet or smal,
Aftir hir reed, wiþ-outen whom no man
Wel vnto god, né þe world lyuë can.
681
Prudence is vertu of entendëment;She makith man by resoun him gouérne.
Who-so þat list to be wys and prudént,
And þe light folwe wole of hir lanterne,
he mostë caste his look in euery herne
The endë seeþ, and eek mesúreth, sche.
682
There is no wight þat sche schapiþ disceyue,And, thogh men casten hem hire to begile,
Naght wole it be; by wit sche wole it weyue.
Eek sche obserueth so wele trouthës style,
And þerto can so wel her tonge affyle,
That, lest þe fauour of frendschipës corde,
Othir þan trouthë can sche not recorde.
683
Sche bý-heetith by good avisëment,And ȝeueth morë þan hir list promette;
Scho yeueth tó men eek commandëment
‘Naght in fortune truste, or by hir sette;
And al þe truste, out of hir hertë schette,
Of myght of worldly dominacïoun:’
Vertu gyeth hir operacïoun.
684
Prudence hath leuer louëd be þan drad;Ther may no prince in his estate endure,
Ne ther-yn any whilë standë sad,
But he be louëd; fór loue is armure
Of seurëte. o! take on yow þe cure,
Excellent princë, louë to embrace,
And þan your herte is sette in siker place.
685
Now, if þat ye graunten by your patenteTo your seruauntës a yeerly guerdoun,
Crist scheeldë þat your wil or your entente
Be sette to maken a restriccioun
Of paiëment; for þat condicïoun
Exileþ þé peples beneuolence,
And kyndeleþ hate vndir priue scilence.
686
Beeth wel avisëd, or your graunt out go,How ye þat chargë may performe and bere;
Whan it is past, obserue it wel also,
ffor ellës wole it yow annoye and dere;
ffor your honur it muchel bettre were,
No graunt to graunt at al, þan þat your graunt
Yow preeue a brekere of a couenaunt.
687
He þat is louëd, men drede hym offende;But he þat drad, & naght by-louëd is,
As Tullïus seith, lightly may descende,
And þe lordschipë leesë þat was his;
And Senek also seith as touchyng þis,
The sogett hateth whom he haþ in drede;
And hate is hard, if it his venym schede.
688
Was neuere dredë yit a good wardeyn,To holdë lordschepe in his sikernesse,
But only loue is þing most souereyn;
Loue is norice of welþe and of gladnesse,
But out of louë spryngeþ ferdfulnesse,
And feere is good, whiche þat on loue groundeth,
But othir feerë naght heliþ, but woundeth.
689
Louë, withouten a good gouernaille,A kyng haþ non; for thogh men no word seye,
If he his peple oppresse, it is no faile
They loue hym noght, in no manere of weie;
They may his hestës outward wel obeie,
But in hir hertes is smal obediaunce,
And vnto god þey cómpleyne hir grevaunce.
690
And swich a kyng is naght prudent ne wys,That of his peple purchaseth hym hate,
ffor loue excedith al tresour in prys;
So hath it ben, and so be wole algate.
Whan þat richésses ebben & abbate,
If loue endurë, it may hym restore,
And loue is goten by prudénces lore.
691
By wise conseil, settith your hy estatIn swhiche an ordre as ye lyuë may
Of your good propre, in reule moderat;
Is it knyghtly lyue on rapynë? nay!
ffor Cristës sakë, so yow gyeth ay,
As þat may strecchë to your peples ese,
And þerwith-al ye schul god hily plese.
692
It apparteneth a kyng for to beA kyng in verray soth and éxisténce.
A kyng, of office and of dignite
The name is; he moot don his diligence
His peple for to gyë by prudénce;
ffor þat he rule hem schuldë duëly,
The stile of a ‘kyng’ he berith certeynly.
693
As an archer may naght his arwe scheteEuene at a merk, bút he þe merk see,
No morë may a kyng, I yow byhete,
Gouerne his peple in rigth and equitee,
But by prudénce he reule his hyghe degree;
If þat be wel, his peple hath sikernesse
Of reste and pees, welþe, ioyë, and gladnesse.
694
Bygynnynge of wisdom is, god to drede;What kyng þat dredith god, is good and iust
To his peple; beeþ swiche, my lord, I rede!
In loue and in awe of god, ficcheþ your lust;
Than be ye wys, and þan yow needës must,
Aftir your worldly sceptre transitórie,
In heuene regne in pérpetuel glorie.
[§ 14.] De consilio habendo in omnibus factis.
695
Now purpose I, to trete how to a kyngIt nedeful is to do by consail ay;
With-outen whiche, good is he do no þing;
ffor a kyng is but a man soul, parfay!
And be his witt neuere so good, he may
Erre and mistake hym oþer while among,
Where-as good counsail may exclude a wrong.
696
Excellent princë, in axynge of reed,Descouereþ naght your wille in no maneere;
What þat ye þinkë doo, lat it be deed
As for þe tymë, lat no word appere;
But what euery man seith, wel herkne & here;
And yit whan good counsail is yeuen yow,
What ye do wolë, kepe it close y-now
697
Til þat yow lykë párforme it in dede;And if it schal be don, lat it noght tarie,
ffor þat is perillous with-outë drede;
Ther is no þing may make a lond myscarie
Morë than swiche delay; ful necessárie
It is, a gode purpos parforme as bliue,
As, if it naght be, out of mynde it dryue.
698
And if þat á man of symple degree,Or pore of birth, or ȝonge, be wel conseile,
Admytte his resoun and take it in gre:
Why naght, my godë lorde? what shuld yow eyle?
But men do naght so; where-of I merueyle;
Þe worlde fauórith ay þe richës sawe,
Þow þat his conseil be noght worth an hawe.
699
What he seith, is vp to þe clowdës bore;But and þe porë spekë worth þe twey,
His seed naght spryngë may, it nys but lore;
Thei seyen, “what is he, þis? lat hym goo pley!
O! worthi princë, beth wel ware, I prey,
Þat your hye dygnite and sad prudénce
No desdein haue of þe porës senténce.
700
Thogh men contrárie eek your óppynyoun,Þei may, per cas, conseilë yow þe best;
Also ye ben at your eleccioun
To doo or leuë, as your seluen lyst.
If it be gode, impresse it in þe chest
Of your memórie, and excusith it;
If it naght be, to leue it, is a wyt.
701
And if yow list your cónseilere to preue,Ye feynë mot ye haue necessite
Of golde; and if he sterë yow, and meeue,
Your Iewels ley in weddë, certeyn he
Loueth your éstate and prosperite;
But he þat redith yow, your peple oppresse,
He hatheth yow, certéyne, it is no lesse.
702
And if a man, in tyme of swich a nede,Of his goode ȝeuë yow a goode substaunce,
Swich oon cherich, and ellës god forbede,
Konneth hym þank of his goode cheuesaunce,
ffor him is leuer to suffre penaunce
Him-self, þan þat your peple shuldë smert;
Ther is a preef of trewë louyng hert.
703
In auxenge eeke of reed, ware of fauel;Also ware of þe auaricïouse;
ffor none of þo two can conseilë wel;
Hir reed & conseil is envenymouse;
Þei bothë ben of golde so désirous,
Þei rekkë naght what bryge her lorde be Inne,
So þat þei mowen golde & siluyr wynne.
704
And if your conseil which þat ye haue take,Vnto þe knowlech or þe audience
Of your foos comen be, þan lat it slake,
And witterly putte it in abstinence;
ffor execute it were an inprudence;
In swich a caas, is wisdam it to chaunge;
Goode is, your conseil be to your foes straunge.
705
Conseil may wel be likend to a bridil,Which þat an hors vpkepeth fro fallyng,
If man do by conseil; but al in Idel
Is reed, if man naght folwe it in wirkyng.
Do no þing redeles, do by conseylyng
Of hedës wyse, and than noo répentaunce
Þer folwe yow schal in your gouernaunce.
706
Comméndable is, conséil take óf þe wyse,And noght of foolës, for þei may noght loue
But swich þing as hem likyth. in al wyse,
Your conseiler, chesith our lorde god a-boue;
Chesith eke godë men; ánd awey shoue
The wykkyd, whos conseyl is déceyuáble;
Þus byddyth holy writ, it is no fable.
707
Chesith men eke of olde experience;Hir wit and intellect is gloriouse;
Of hir conseil, holsome is þe sentence;
Þe oldë mannës rede is fructuouse;
Ware of yong cónseyl, it is perilouse;
Roboas fonde it so, whan he forsoke
Oldë conseil, and to þe yong hym toke.
708
The éntente, wot I wele, of þe yong manAs louyng is and trewe, as of the olde,
Þogh þat he noght so wele conseilen can.
Yong men, strong ben, hardy, and bolde,
And more weldy to fight, if þat þei sholde;
But aske þe olde in tyme of pees or werre
Rede & conseil; it schal naght be þe werre.
709
He þat is fressh and lusty now þis day,By lengthe of yerees shal no þing be so;
ffresshnesse & lust may naght endure al-wey;
Whan age is comen, he commaundeth, ho!
But lat see, who considereth þis two,
Goode is þat agë sette a gouernayle,
And youthe it sue: thus may al avayle.
710
Excellent prince, eeke on the holydayesBeth warë þat ye nat your conseilles holde;
As for tho tymës, put hem in deleyes;
Thenketh wel this, ye wel apayed be nolde
If your soggettes not be your hestës tolde,
Right so our lorde god, kyng & commaundour
Of kynges al, is wroth with þat errour.
711
In þe longe ȝere be werkë daye I-nowe,If þei be wel despent, for to entende
To conseilës: to god your hertë bowe,
If ye desire men hir hertës bende
To yow. What kyng nat dredeth god offende,
Ne naght rekkéth do hym desóbeisaunce,
He shal be disobeiëd eeke perchaunce.
712
The firstë fyndere of our faire langáge,Hath seyde in caas sembláble, & othir moo,
So hyly wel, þat it is my dotáge
ffor to expresse or touche any of thoo.
Alasse! my fadir fro þe worlde is goo—
My worthi maister Chaucer, hym I mene—
Be þou aduóket for hym, heuenes quene!
713
As þou wel knowest, o blissid virgyne,With louyng hert, and hye deuocïoun
In þyne honour he wroot ful many a lyne;
O now þine helpe & þi promocïoun,
To god þi sonë make a mocïoun,
How he þi seruaunt was, maydén marie,
And lat his louë floure and fructifie.
714
Al-þogh his lyfe be queynt, þe résemblaunceOf him haþ in me so fressh lyflynesse,
Þat, to putte othir men in rémembraunce
Of his persóne, I haue heere his lyknesse
Do makë, to þis ende in sothfastnesse,
Þat þei þat haue of him lest þought & mynde,
By þis peynturë may ageyn him fynde.
715
The ymages þat in þe chirchë been,Maken folk þenke on god & on his seyntes,
Whan þe ymáges þei be-holden & seen;
Were oft vnsyte of hem causith restreyntes
Of þoughtës godë: whan a þing depeynt is,
Or éntailëd, if men take of it heede,
Thoght of þe lyknesse, it wil in hem brede.
716
Yit somme holden oppynÿoun, and sey,Þat none ymáges schuld I-maked be:
Þei erren foule, & goon ont of þe wey;
Of trouth haue þei scant sensibilite.
Passe ouer þat: now, blessid trinite,
Vppon my maistres soulë, mercy haue,
ffor him, lady, eke þi mercy I craue.
717
More othir þing, wolde I fayne speke & toucheHeere in þis booke; but such is my dulnesse—
ffor þat al voyde and empty is my pouche,—
Þat al my lust is queynt with heuynesse,
And heuy spirit cómaundith stilnesse.
And haue I spoke of pees, I schal be stille;
God sende vs pees, if þat it be his wille.
[§ 15. OF PEACE.]
718
Scriptum est, Qui amplectitur pacem in mentis hospicio mansionem preparit Christo, &c. leronimus: Qui sine pace est, christum non habet. apud christianos non qui patitur sed qui facit contumeliam miser est. Prouerbiarum 12o. Qui pacis ineunt consilia, sequitur eos gaudium. Ciprianus dicit, Sacrificium deo est pax nostra & fraterna concordia.
As þat scripturës maken mencïoun,
And þan my boke is endid al, and do.
To crist ordeyneþ he a mancïoun,
Which in his hertës habitacïoun
Embraceth pees. wher pees is, crist is there,
ffor crist nat lyst a-byden ellës-where.
719
A-mongës cristen folk, wreche is he noneÞat pacïéntly suffreth a duresse;
But sikirly a wrecchë is he one
Þat makiþ strife; & hym sueth gladnesse
Which þat of pees conséilith þe suernesse.
Our pees also and concorde brothirly
Is sacrificë to god ál myghty.
720
Thyngës þat leden men to pees be thre:Conformyng in god; in our self humblesse;
And with our neighëboures tranquillite.
ffirst seye I þat we moot our willës dresse,
And hem conformen allë more & lesse
To goddis wil; al þingis is in his myght,
Sauf only þat he máy done non vnright.
721
Euene as a man is euer in werre and strife,Þat besieth hym withstande a man, which he
Nat may; right so hathe he peisible lyfe
Continuelly, whos willës fully be
To goddës wille conformyng: o, pardee!
A-geyn god helpeth þere no résistence,
So strong and myȝty is his excellence.
722
Humilite, to pees eke may men lede;Men say two gretë may nat in o sak;
But symple humblesse is of such godely-hede,
Þat she of troubly hatë haþ no smak;
She stryueth nat; of discorde hath she lak;
She voyde and empty is of cruelte:
Humble spirit desirith vnite.
723
The thrid is eke tranquillite of þought,Þat gydeth man to pees; for as a wight
May in a bedde of þornës restë noght,
Riȝt so, who is with greuous þoughtës twight,
May with himself nor othir folk a-riȝt
Hauë no pees; a man mot nedys smert
Whan irous þoughtës occupye his hert.
724
And euene as vppon a pillow softe,Man may him restë wele, and take his ese,
Riȝt so þat lorde þat sittith in heuen a-lofte,
Hertë peisible can so like and plese,
Þat he wol entre þér-in, and it sese,
And occupie it as iust póssessoure;
In place of pees, resteth our savïour.
725
But al an othir pees þer is also,Which is naght worth; it is envenymouse;
ffor it is vnto verray pees a foo;
Whan men in a purpós malicïouse
Acorden, þát pees is to god greuous:
Swich pees was twix Heródes & pilat;
And in swich caas, pees is wers þanne debat.
726
A feynëd pees, eeke is to pees verray,A foo; and swich was þe pees of Iudas
Kissyng crist. Lord! whedir þat þis day
Any swich pees vsëd is as þat was!
Ȝe, so I drede me, by seynt Thomas,
The kus of Iudas is now widë sprad,
Tokenes of pees ben, but smal loue is had.
727
Men contrefete in wordis Tullïus,And folwe in werke Iudas or Genyloun;
Many an hony worde and many a kus
Ther is; but wayte on þe conclusïoun,
And pryue galle all turnyth vp-so-doun;
Ther leueth naght of pees, but contenance,
ffor al þe peyntyd chere and daliance.
728
Ther is also a pees inordinat,Whan þe grettér obeith to þe lesse;
As þus, whan to his soget a prelat
Obeyeth; and whan reson, þe blyndnesse
Sueth of sensualitees madnesse,
Obeying it: al swich pees is haynous,
ffor it is goodë pees contrarious.
729
Right swich a pees, Adam had with Eue,Whan þat he vnto hir desire obeyde;
He was, per caas, adraddë for to greue;
Where-for he did as þat she to hym seide:
In þat obediencë he foleyde,
ffor god hir him bytoke him to obeye;
But I a-drad am þat I þus fer seye;
730
If þat þis come vnto the audienceOf women, I am sure I shal be shent:
ffor þat I touche of swich obedience,
Many a browë shal on me be bent;
Thei willë wayten been equipollent,
And sumwhat morë, vnto hir housbondis,
And sum men seyn swich vsage in þis lond is.
731
And it no wonder is, as semeth me,Whan þat I me be-þought haue al aboute,
Þogh þat womén desiren souereynte,
And hir housbondës makë to hem loute;
Thei made ware of a ribbe, it is no doute,
Which more strong is, and súbstancial,
Þan slyme of eerthe, & clenner þer-with-al.
732
Wher-for it semeth þat þe worthynesseOf women, passyth mennës encerteyne;
And ȝit sum nysë men, of lewdënesse,
In répref of hem holden ther-a-geyn,
ffor crokid was þat ribbe; and speke & seyne,
That also crokid is hir curtaisie;
But a-gayn þat, strongly wil I replie;
733
ffor in the writyng and in þe scriptureOf Philosophers, men may see & reede,
Cercly shap is most perfite figúre,
Bi-tokenyng, in gémetrie, onhede;
And crokydnesse a part is, þat may lede
Sumwhat vnto cercle or a cumpas:
What so men seyen, women stonde in gode caas.
734
ffor ther-by shewith it, þat crokydnesseStreccheth vnto þe gretter perfeccioun,
Þan doth a þing þat is of euenesse;
Of þis helpith no contradiccïoun,
ffor it soth is; it is no ficcïoun;
Euery perfit body þat man kan neuene,
Is rounde and crokyd, and noght streghte ne euene.
735
By-gynnë first at heuen, & rounde it is;Þe sonne and mone, & þe sterrës also;
Hed of man, þen mouth, & hert, I-wisse,
Ben allë rounde; and othir ben þer moo
Than I expresse as now; but or I goo,
Ȝit shal I bet wommannës part sustene;
So biddeth pees, & þat to folwe I mene.
736
Now for to speke or touchen of þe placeIn which þat man & womman fourmed were:
Almyghty God to womman shope swich grace,
That she was formëd in the worthier;
In paradys men wot wel he made here;
But man ymade was out of paradys,
In place of lessë worthinesse & prys.
737
And of þe maner of formacïounOf bothë two herkenþ now wel I prey;
The token or þe significacioun
Of making of Adám, may be no way
Strecchë to so perfyte a goode, I say,
As didë þe formacïoun of Eue;
And þat as swithë here I schal it preue.
738
ffor morë haue I for hir partye ȝit:Secundum augustinum & omnes doctores catholicos, fformacio Eue significauit formacionem ecclesie & sacramentorum eius; Nam sicut, Adam dormiente, formabatur Eua & membra eius de latere ipsius Ade, sic christo dormiente in cruce, formabatur de latere &c. [R eius ecclesia et eius sacramenta.] Beatus bernardus dicit.
Making of Euë tokned þe makyng
Of holy chirche, and sacramentes of it;
As of þe syde of Adam, him slepyng,
Euë vas made, so our lorde crist deyeng
Vpon þe crois, holý chirche, of his syde,
And þe sacrámentes made were in þat tyde.
739
ffro tyme eeke crist was of xij ȝerë ageVnto þritty, he with his modir ay
Was seruyng hir with right plesant coráge;
To teche humilite, he tooke þe way
ffro heuen hiddir, and mekënesse verray
Tauȝt he, þe mostë partie of his lyf,
Whil he was with his modir & his wyfe;
740
ffor she was bothë two; and syn she hadSo long of hir housbondë þe maystrie,
Women, I trowë, be nat now so mad
Þat stylë to for-go; nay, swich folye,
What man þat can in a womán espye,
Is worthi shrynëd be; god saue hem alle,
And graunt hir hyë corage nat to palle!
741
Holy writ seith, ‘if women souereynteOf hir housbondës haue, how þat þei
Vnto housbondës contrarïous be:’
Þe text is such, I woot wel, but what þei?
That text I vndir-stondë þus al-wey:
Whan þat housbondës hem mys-take and erre,
Ageyn þat vicë wyuës maken werre.
742
Thogh a woman hir housbonde contrarieIn his oppynyoun erroneous,
Shul men for þat deme hir his aduersarie?
Straw! be he neuer so harrageous,
If he & she shul dwellen in on house,
Goode is he suffre; therby pees may spring;
Housbondës pees is pesible suffryng.
743
By concorde, smalë þingës multiplien;And by discorde, hate, ire, and rancour,
Perysshen þingës grete, & wast & dyen.
Pees hath þe fruyt of eese in his fauour;
To getë pees holsóme is þe labour,
And kepe it wel, whan a man hath it cauȝt,
That ire ne discórde bannysshe it naght.
744
How plesant to god, is of pees þe myrthe!What delyte eeke in pees and vnioun
The prince of pees hath shewëd in his birth,
By angels delitáble song and soun;
Also, aftir his resurreccïoun
He pees bad; and whan vnto heuen he stigh,
He leftë pees in erthë truëly.
745
Þat ȝift of pees, þat precïouse Iewel,If men it kepe, & do it naght away,
Sonës of crist þei may be clept ful wel;
But strif, which moche is to þe fendës paye,
Among vs feruent is so, welawey!
We cristen folk, with-inne vs and with-out,
Haue so gret stryfe, þat þer may no pees rout.
746
The ryot þat haþ ben with-in þis landeAmong our-self, many a wyntrës space,
Hath to þe swerd put many a thousand:
The gredy hert, þat woldë al embrace,
With irous wil, and crabbed palë face,
And swypir feendly hand with strook vengeáble,
Haþ many a woman maad hem cloþe in sable.
747
Þis is no doutë, þat ambicïounAnd couetysë fyre al þis debate;
Tho two be of wikkéd condicïoun.
No wight halt hym content of his estate;
Euery man wilneþ to ben éxaltat;
Þogh he be gret, ȝit hirë wolde he goo,
And þeis aren causes of our stryues & woo.
748
Werrë within our-Iself is most harmfúlAnd perillous, & most is a-gayn kynde.
Þer-with þis land hath wrastled many a pul;
Þe smert is swich, it may nat out of mynde,
ffor it haþ cast our welthë far be-hynde,
And ferther wolë, but thoo werrës stynt;
No goode may come of werrës wrathful dynt.
749
Whilës þat Romaynes were in hert al oon,And vndeuydid, al hool stode, þei were
Lordës of al þe worlde; foo was þer non
Out-warde, as who seith, myght hem greue or dere;
But al sauf welthë may men suffre and bere;
With-Inne hym-self sprang such deuysïoun,
Þat it hem broughtë to confusioun.
750
What causyd hir inwárd werre and rumourBut auericë? she reft hem her wele;
Whilës þei had in cheerte and fauour
Profit commun, thei hadden bi þe stele
Prosperite; but it a-way gan stele
Whan þei him drough to profyte singuler,
And of profyt commun nat weren cheer.
751
By-hold how auaricë crepith inne,And kyndlith werre, and quenchiþ vnite!
O fauel! þou myghtést ben of hir kynne,
ffor swich a breekë-pees as þat is she,
Right swich a-nothir, may I namë þe;
Þou rekkest nat, ne dredest nat, to wende
ffor muk to helle, vnto þe ferthest ende.
752
This fauel is of pees a déstourbour;Twix god and mannës soule he werrë reisith;
This worlde is blent by þis dissymulour;
Vertú he blameþ, ánd vicés he preysith;
Sore in þe bowe of treccherye he teisyth;
His shot is gay, but it is énvenymed;
His fikil art may nat a-ryght be rymed.
753
Vertuouse trouthë, hydë þou þine heede!Þou mayst as wele, thyn art may nat a-vayle;
Out of þis worldës grace art þou as dede:
But fauel, traitour! þi fals gouernaile
Makith ful manny shippës for to saile
In-to þi cofre; warme is þine office;
Þat trouthë lesith, wynnë can þi vice.
754
Alas! so manny a worthi clerk famóuse,In Oxinford, and in Cambrigge also,
Stonde vn-avancëd, wher the viciouse
ffauel hath chirches. & preuendres, moo
Þan god is plesid with; alasse! of thoo
Þat weiuen vertu so to be promoted;
And þei helples, in whom vertu is rooted.
755
The knyght or sqwier, on þat othir syde,Or Ieman, þat haþ in pees or in werris
Dispent with his lorde his blode, but he hyde
Þe trouth, and can currey fauel, he nat þe nere is
His lordës grace; and vn-trouth ful fer is
ffrom him, þat worthy corage hath honóured;
Grace of his lorde by fauel is deuóured.
756
Now vnto my mateere of werre inwardeResort I; but to sekë stories olde
Non nede is, syn þis day sharp werre & harde
Is at þe dore here, as men may be-holde:
ffrauncë, no wondir þogh þine hertë colde,
And brenne also: swich is þine agonye,
Thi self manaseth þi self for to dye.
757
Thi self destroye, and feble is þi victórye!Thow hast in þi self stryven oft or nowe,
And hast appesid al, haue in memórie,
Thurgh þi prudence; wost þou nat wel how
Slaghtre is defendid? and nat rekkest þow
To rebelle a-geyn god þat it forbedith?
ffor the, myne heuy gost bisily dredith.
758
What any part offendid hath to othir,Redresse it faire and charytablely;
By lawe of god, ye ben ech others brothir.
O! now adayës is noon enemye
Lyke oon þat is to othir of bloodë nye;
Beth ware! correct it! lest men of yow seye,
‘lo! whilom this was ffraunce of hye nobley!’
759
I am an Englyssh-man, & am þi foo,ffor þou a foo art vnto my lygeánce;
And yit myn hertë stuffid is with woo
To see þyn vnkyndly disseueraunce:
Accordeth yow! girdeþ yow with suffraunce!
Ye greuë god, and your-self harme & shame,
And your foos ther-of han disport & game.
760
Alase! Also, þe greet dissencïoun,The pitous harme, þe hatëful discorde,
Þat hath endurëd twix þis regioun
And othir landës cristen! he, þat lorde
Of Remes al is þe auctor of concorde
And pees, sore is meeuëd þer-with; but we
Naght dreden for to offend his mageste.
761
Off fraunce and englonde, o cristen princes,Syn þat your style of worthynes is ronge
Thurgh-out þe world, in al þe prouinces,
If þat of yow myghtë be red or songe
That ye were oon in herte, ther nys no tonge
That myghte expresse, how profitable and good
Vnto al peple it were of cristen blood.
762
Yeue hem ensamplen! ye ben hir mirrours;They folowen yow: what sorwe lamentable
Is causëd of youre werrës scharpë schoures
Ther wot no wight, it is irréparable!
O noble cristen Princes honurable,
ffor him þat for yow suffred passïoun,
Of cristen blod, haueþ compassïoun!
763
Allas! what peple haþ your werrë slayn!What cornës wast, and dounë trode & schent!
How many a wif and maide haþ be by layn!
Castels doun bette, and tymbred houses brent,
And drawen downe, and al to-tornë and rent!
The harm ne may nat rekened be, ne told;
This werrë wexiþ al to hoor and old.
764
To wynnë worldly tresour and richesse,Is of your strif þe longe continuaunce;
Wherby it semeth þat ye han scantnesse
Of good, or ye konne haue no súffisaunce
Of plente; and if þér be hábundaunce
In youre cofres, and in your hertës nede,
Of lordly cónceit may it not procede.
765
Whan Alisaundre deed was, and y-graue,And his toumbe óf gold wroght ful richëly,
As kyngës dignite wole axe and craue,
Dyuerse philosophres droghen hem nygh
Therto; and as oon of hem stood þerby,
he seidë þus among þe folkës alle:—
“Seeþ swiche a chaunge is newë now byfalle!
766
“This Alisaundre madë yistirdayOf gold his tresor, but gold makiþ now
Tresor of him, as ye be-holdë may.”
An othir philosopher seide eek how
“Al þis world yistirday was nat y-now
To stoppen Alisaundres couetise,
And now thre elnes of cloþë him suffice.”
767
O worthi princes two, now takiþ hede!As hardy, deth is yow for to assaille
As sche dide Alisaundre, whom in drede
Hadde al þis world; what myght his force auaille
A-gayn þe deth? no thing, sanȝ faille;
ffor þogh þat he swerd wer of chiualrie,
Deth threwe him doun to grounde, & lete him lye.
768
With how grete labour, or wiþ how gret peyne,Men wynnë good, to þe world [þey] leue it schal;
Vnto þe pitte goþ nought but þe careyne:
And þogh gold werë grauen þer-with-al,
Naght myght it helpë: beth nat goldës thral!
Suffiseth to your good, ye princes boþe;
With pees and restë, armë yow and clothe!
769
Whan ye haue stryue and foughten al your fille,Pees folwe moot; but good were it, or thanne,
That pees were hadde: what lust han ye to spille
The blood þat crist with his blood boghte, whanne
He on þe croys starf? o lady seint Anne,
Thi doughter preyë to beseche hir sone
To stynte of werrës þe dampnáble wone.
770
The book of reuelacïouns of BrideExpressith how crist þus seide hir vnto:
“I am pees verray; þere I wole abide,
Where as pees is; non oþer wole I do.
Of ffraunce and Engëlond þe kyngës two,
If þei wole haue pees, pees perpetuel
Thei schul han”; thus hir book seiþ, woot I wel;
771
“But verray pees may be had by no way,But if trouthë and Iustice louëd be;
And for þat á kyng haþ right, forthi may
By matrimoignë pees and vnite
Ben had; cristës plesance is swiche; þus he
That right heir is, may þe remë reioyse,
Cesynge al strif, debate, or werre, or noyse.”
772
Now syn þe wey is open, as ye see,How pees to gete in vertuous manere,
ffor loue of him þat dide vppon þe tree,
And of Mary, his blysful modir dere,
ffolweþ þat way, and your strif leye on bere;
Purchaseth pees by wey of marïage,
And ye þerinne schul fynden auauntage.
773
Now, pees! approche, and dryue out werre & strif!ffrenchepe! appere, and bannysshë thow hate!
Tranquillite! reuë þou ire hir lif
That feruent is, and leef for to debate!
Ye thre vertuës, now late see abate
The malice of þe foulë vices thre,
Þat verray foos ben to al christiante.
774
O cristen princes! for þe loue and aweOf him þat is þe king of kingës al,
Nessheth your hertës, and to pees yow drawe!
Considereth what good may þerof fal!
The hony takiþ, and leuyth þe gal!
The sternë iugë in his iugëment
May doo but right for his punyschëment.
775
What desobeïssance and rébellioun,What wil vnbuxum, what vnkyndënesse,
May he preue in yow, þat destruccïoun
Don of men, his handwerk, soothly, I gesse.
It mostë nedës stire his rightwisnesse
A-geyn yow; stinteþ at his reuerence,
Sueth his grace and his beneuolence!
776
ffrom hennës-forth lat þere by-twixe yow beSo vertuous a strif, for cristës sake,
That ye of pees and loue and charite
May striuë; lat your pite now a-wake,
That longe haþ slept; and pees bytwixt yow make;
And on þe foos of crist, your rédemptour,
Werreth! thére kitheth your vigour!
777
Vppon þe mescreantys to makë werre,And hem vnto the feith of crist to brynge,
Good were; therynne may ye no thyng erre,
That were a meritorye werrying;
That is the wey vn-to the conqueryng
Of hevenes blyssë, that is endëles,
To which yow bryngë the auctour of pees.
[THE ENVOY]
778
O litell booke, who yafe the hardynesseThy wordës to pronounce in the presence
Of kyngës Impe, and princes worthynesse,
Syn thou all naked art of eloquence?
And why approchest thou his excellence
Vnclothed, saue thy kirtell bare allone?
I am right sure his humble pacïence
The yeueth hardynessë so to done.
779
But o thyng wote I wele: go where thou go,I am so priuë [un]to thy sentence,
Thou hast, and art, and wolt ben euermo
To his hyenesse, of suche beneuolence,
Though thou not do to hym due reuerence
In wordes, thy cheerte not is the lesse.
And yf lust be, to his magnificence,
Do by thy rede: his welthe it shall witnesse!
780
Beseche hym, of his gracious noblesse,The holde excused of thyne Innocence
Of endityng; and with hertes mekenesse,
If ony thyng the passe of necligence,
Beseche hym of mercy and indulgence,
And that, for thy gode hert, he be not fo
To the þat all seest of loues feruence!
That knoweth he, that no thyng is hidde fro.
Hoccleve's Works. III | ||