HAUT ALITER TRISTICIE. — Prosa 3
Ryght so, and noon other wise, the cloudes of sorwe dissolved
and doon awey, I took hevene, and resceyved mynde to knowe the
face of my fisycien; so that [whan that] I sette myne eien on hir
and fastned my lookynge, I byholde my noryce, Philosophie, in
whoos houses I hadde conversed and hauntyd fro my youthe; and I
seide thus: "O thou maystresse of alle vertues, descended from
the sovereyne sete, whi arttow comen into this solitarie place
of myn exil? Artow comen for thou art maad coupable with me of
false blames?"
"O," quod sche, "my nory, schulde I forsake the
now, and
schulde I nat parten with the by comune travaile the charge that
thow hast suffred for envye of my name? Certes it nere nat
leveful ne syttynge thyng to Philosophie to leten withouten
companye the weye of hym that is innocent. Schulde I thanne
redowte my blame and agrysen as though ther were byfallen a newe
thyng? For trowestow that Philosophie be now alderferst assailed
in periles by folk of wykkide maneris? Have I noght stryven with
ful greet strif in old tyme, byfor the age of my Plato, ayens the
foolhardynesse of folye? And eek, the same Plato lyvynge, his
mayster Socrates desserved victorie of unryghtful deth in my
presence. The heritage of the whiche Socrates (the
heritage is to seyn the doctryne of the whiche Socrates in his
opinyoun of felicite, that I clepe welefulnesse) whan that
the peple of Epycuriens and Stoyciens and manye othere enforceden
hem to gon ravyssche everyche man for his part (that
is to seyn, that everych of hem wolde drawen to the deffense of
his opinyoun the wordes of Socrates), they as in partye of
hir preye todrowen me, cryinge and debatyng ther-ayens, and
korven and torente my clothes that I hadde woven with myn handes;
and with tho cloutes that thei hadden arased out of my clothes
thei wenten
awey wenynge that I hadde gon with hem every del. In whiche
Epycuriens and Stoyciens for as myche as ther semede some traces
or steppes of myn abyte, the folie of men wenynge tho Epycuryens
and Stoyciens my familiers pervertede some thurw the errour of
the wikkide or unkunnynge multitude of hem. (This
is to seyn, that for they semeden philosophres thei weren
pursuyed to the deth and slayn.)
"So yif thou ne hast noght knowen the exilynge of Anaxogore,
ne the empoisonynge of Socrates, ne the turmentz of Zeno, for
they weren straungiers, yit myghtestow han knowen the Senecciens
and the Canyos and the Soranas, of whiche folk the renoun is
neyther over-oold ne unsollempne. The whiche men nothyng elles
ne broght hem to the deeth but oonly for thei weren enformyd of
myne maneris, and semyde moost unlyk to the studies of wykkid
folk. And forthi thou oughtest noght to wondren thoughe that I,
in the byttere see of this lif, be fordryven with tempestes
blowynge aboute, in the whiche this is my moste purpoos, that is
to seyn to displesen to wikkide men. Of whiche schrewes al be the
oost nevere so greet, it es to despise; for it nys nat governyd
with no ledere (of resoun), but it es
ravyssched oonly by fleetynge errour folyly and lyghtly; and yif
they somtyme, makynge an oost ayens us, assayle us as strengere,
our ledere
draweth togidre his richesses into his tour, and they ben
ententyf aboute sarpleris or sachelis, unprofitable for to taken.
But we that ben heghe above, syker fro alle tumolte and wood
noyse, warnstoryd and enclosed in swiche a palys whider as that
chaterynge or anoyinge folye ne may nat atayne, we scorne swyche
ravyneres and henteres of fouleste thynges.
