University of Virginia Library

The envious ordre of Fortunas meving,
In worldly þing, fals and flekeryng,
Ne will not suffre vs in þis present lyf
To lyue in reste with-oute werre or striffe;
For sche is blinde, fikel, and vnstable,
And of her cours, fals & ful mutable.
Who sit hiȝest, sche can doun hym enclyne
Whan he leest weneþ bring hym to ruyne,
With awaites þat gladly ben sodeyne,
And with hir face þat partid is on tweyne
Schewen most hool, whan sche is leste to triste;
Þat wel wer hym þat hir deceytes wiste,
And hir engynes & hir trappis knewe,
Þat euery day in hir courte be newe.
Of whiche, in soth, I wel afferme dar,
No mortal man may in þis lyf be war:
For sche vn-evene peisyng in balaunce,
With conterfet and feyned contenaunce,
With lokyng pleyn & chere of flaterye,
Vnwarly can blere a mannys eye,
And hym be-gyle—þis þe verray soth—
With a face blaundissching and smoþe,
Whan sche hath hym from hiȝe degre brouȝt lowe,
Ful falsly smyle & make hym þe mowe.
And ȝit som while, most varriant of hewe,
Sche vn-to somme pretendeth to be trewe;
For sche whilom to somme is fauourable,
And to somme fals and deceyvable.
Sche can reise on, & bryng another doun,
Þis fals[e] lady of transmutacioun;
To somme sche ȝeueth renoun and victorie,
And doth hem floure in honour & glorie;
And somme sche can apeiren with fals fame,
And gilt[e]les put a man in blame.
To somme sche is goodly and benyngne;
And of disdeyn sche can also maligne
Ageyn anoþer, & make hym loute lowe;
And from her sees sche can kynges þrowe,
And hem avale, for al her hiȝe toures.
And sche can plonge worþi emperoures
From þe hille of hiȝe prosperite
In-to þe vale of aduersite;
Þe riche emporische, of rancour & disdeyn,
And þe pore sche can enhaunce ageyn,
Þis fals[e] goddes with hir eyen blynde,
Set on aforn, a-noþer goth be-hynde;
And doth on renne, and another halte;
And on sche can in rychesse hiȝe exalte,
And anoþer plonge in pouerte,
In whom no man may haue no sikerte.
To somme sugre and hony sche distilleth;
And of somme sche þe botel filleth
With bitter galle, myrre, and aloes.
And þus þis lady, wilful recheles,
As sche þat is froward and peruers,
Hath in hir celer drinkes ful diuers;
For sche to somme, of fraude and of fallas,
Mynystreth pyment, bawme, & ypocras:
And sodeynly, whan þe sote is past,
Sche of custom can ȝeuen hem a tast,
For to conclude falsely in þe fyn,
Of bitter eysel and of egre wyn,
And corosyues þat fret and perce depe,
And narkotykes þat cause men to slepe.
Þus sche to hem, þat hir tonne aproche,
After soote, þe bitter can abroche—
In her regne, þis quene of variaunce,
Whos Ioye fyneth alwey with meschaunce.
Who trusteþ hir, sche wil hym ouercaste,
And hym deseyue pleynly at þe laste,
Of what estat euer þat he be,
Þis double lady of mutabilite.
Sethe here example of kyng Lamedoun,
Whom sche haþ brouȝt to confusioun
For litel cause, and for a þing of nouȝt;
Hir cruelte he haþe to dere a-bouȝt.
Wherfore, I rede, euery man take hede
To gynne a quarel where as is no nede:
For litel fire vnder asches reke
So may be kyndled þat it wil oute breke
In-to swyche flawme, men may it nat apese;
Who best can suffre most schal haue his ese.
Þerfor, ȝe kynges and lordis euerychon,
Make ȝow a merour of þis Lamedoun,
And beþ wel war to do no violence
Vn-to straungers, whan þei do noon offence,
Whan þei com fer in-to ȝoure regioun:
Ne suffre hem nat, by noon oppressioun,
In ȝoure boundis for to haue no wrong;
For in ȝoure owne, þouȝe þat ȝe be strong,
And myȝty eke among ȝoure legys alle,
A-noþer day paraunter may be-falle,
Þat whan þat ȝe ful litel þenke on hit,
Of sodeyn cas þat ȝe may be quyte
And I-thanked in a-noþer place,
Of auenture ȝif ȝe happe passe.
Þerfore, whan ȝe may eny swyche espie,
Doth hem good chere of ȝour curtesye,
And prudently consydereth in ȝour wit,
Þat to a lorde of gentilnes hit sit,
To euery straunger goodly hym to haue:
Þer is no þing may more his honour saue,
Þan to refresche hem frely & disport.
Þan may þei after good of hym reporte;
Be whos contrarie haþ moche wo be wrouȝt
A-fore þis tyme, ȝif it be wel souȝt:
Þe first[e] Troye vtterly distroyed,
And þe peple in sorwe & wo acloied,
Lad in-to exil, fer from her cite,
Lyvyng in þraldom and captiuite;
And Exyone, as ȝe haue herde me telle,
Lad in-to Grece with Thelamoun to dwelle.
For whom [þer was], as Guydo can ȝow teche,
After take so gret vengaunce & wreche
On ouþer parte, þat in verray trouthe
For to here it is to moche routhe,
As in þis boke ȝe may after rede,
Ceryously ȝif ȝe liste take hede.
For gladly ay þe reuolucioun
Of fatal þing, by disposicioun,
Is so envious, and alwey meynt with wo,
Þat in þis world, wher-so þat we go,
We trewly may aduerten in oure þouȝt,
Þat for þe valu of a þing of nouȝt,
Mortal causes and werris first by-gonne;
Strif and debate, here vnder þe sonne,
Wer meved first of smal occasioun,
Þat caused after gret confusioun;
Þat no man can þe harmys half endite.
For, for a cause dere y-nowȝe a myte,
Eche is redy to distroien other;
A man for litel wil strive with his broþer;
Blood is vnkynde, whiche gretly is to drede.
Allas! whi nyl þei taken better hede?
For olde Troye & afterward þe newe,
Þoruȝe smal enchesoun, who þe trouþe knewe,
Wer finally brouȝt to distruccioun,
As olde bokes maken mencioun;
And many worþi and many noble knyȝt
Slayn in þe feld by dures of þat fiȝt—
Kynges, princes at þe sege ded,
Whan Antropos to-brak hir lyves thred,
Þat for to telle þe meschef and þe wo,
I want[e] connynge, and I fele also
My penne quake & tremble in my hond,
List þat my lord, dredde on see and lond,
Whos worþines þoruȝ þe world doþ sprede,
My makyng rude schal beholde & rede,
Whiche of colour ful nakyd is and bare:
Þat but ȝif he of his grace spare
For to disdeyne, and list to haue pite,
For fere I tremble þat he schuld it se.
But only mercy, þat doþe his hert embrace,
Byt me preswme fully in his grace;
Seynge in hym, most vertuous and good,
Mercy anexid vn-to royal blood,
As to a prince longeþ nyȝe and ferre,
Ay to-fore ryȝt, pite to preferre.
For þoruȝe þe support of his hiȝe noblesse
Sowpowailled, I wil my stile dresse
To write forþe þe story by and by
Of newe Troye in ordre Ceriously,
As myn auctor in latyn, Guydo, writ.
Preying þe reder, wher any word myssit,
Causyng þe metre to be halte or lame,
For to correcte, to saue me fro blame:
Late hym nat wayte after coryouste,
Syth þat in ryme ynglysch hath skarsete.
I am so dulle, certeyn, þat I ne can
Folwen Guydo, þat clerke, þat coryous man,
Whiche in latyn hath be rethorik
Set so his wordis, þat I can nat be lyke.
To sewe his stile in my translacioun,
Word by word, lyche þe construccioun,
After þe maner of gramariens,
Nor lyke þe stile of rethoricyens,
I toke nat on me þis story to translate;
For me to forther Clyo com to late,
Þat in swyche craft hath gret experience;
I leue þe wordis and folwe þe sentence.
And trouþ of metre I sette also a-syde,
For of þat arte I hadde as þo no guyde
Me to reducyn, whan I went a-wrong;
I toke non hede nouþer of schort nor long,
But to þe trouþe, and lefte coryouste
Boþe of makyng and of metre be,
Nat purposyng to moche for to varie,
Nor for to be dyuerse nor contrarie
Vn-to Guydo, as by discordaunce;
But me conforme fully in substaunce,
Only in menyng, to conclude al on;
Al-be þat I ne can þe wey[e] goon
To swe þe floures of his eloquence;
Nor of peyntyng I haue noon excellence
With sondry hewes noble, fresche, and gay;
So riche colours biggen I ne may;
I mote procede with sable and with blake.
And [in] enewyng wher ȝe fynde a lak,
I axe mercy or I fro ȝow twynne;
And with ȝour fauour I wil a-non begynne,
And in al haste my style furthe directe;
And where I erre, I praye ȝow to correcte.