The Minor Poems of John Lydgate edited from all available mss. with an attempt to establish The Lydgate Canon: By Henry Noble MacCracken |
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| 21. | 21. FABULA DUORUM MERCATORUM. |
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 | The Minor Poems of John Lydgate |  |
486
21. FABULA DUORUM MERCATORUM.
1
In Egipt whilom, as I reede and fynde,Ther dwellyd a marchaunt of hih & gret estat,
Nat oonly riche, but bountevous and kynde,
As of nature to hym it was innat
(For alle vertues in hym wern aggregat);
Of vices voyd, pitous and merciable,
And of his woord, as any centre, stable.
487
2
But, as me thynkith, it were convenient,Or in this tale I any ferther passe,
For to descryve to you, that be present,
Wher that this contre stant and in what place;
And, if I erre, I put me in your grace:
Forberith me now and heerith paciently;
For, as myn auctour seith, riht so sey I.
3
This riche lond, moost passaunt of plente,With Surry marchith toward thorient,
On which syde is eek the Rede Se;
And Libye stant ful in the occident;
Who castith the coostys of the firmament,
The Grete Se northward shal he fynde
And ferre by south Ethiope and Ynde.
4
As auctours witnesse, this lond is desolatOf cloude and reynes aboute in euery yle,
But yeer by yeer the soil is irrigat
And ouyrflowyd with the fflood of Nyle,
The which endurith but a certeyn whyle,
As for a norshyng, her frutys to fecunde,
With corn and greyn to make the lond habounde.
5
Of sondry frutys and of marchaundiseThoruh out envyroun it is so plentevous,
What mercymony that men list devise,
Is ther ful reedy and ful copious.
I hold it best to be compendious:
Of al richesse ther is such habundaunce,
That euery wiht hath ther[of] suffisaunce.
6
This worthy marchaunt, this Egipcien,Which I of spak, was named ferre and wyde;
For many oon, that hym had [neuer] seen,
488
And in a contre cald Baldac ther besyde
Anothir marchaunt, as by relacioun,
Of hym hadde herd and of his hih renoun.
7
This latter marchaunt was eek a worthy man,Ful weel belovid also in his contre;
In trouthe he hadde al, that euyr he wan,
And hym governyd evirmore in honeste.
From ech to othir the name began to fle,
That by report and by noon othir mene
Of her too lovys was maad a stable chene.
8
Revoluyth ech by contemplaciounAl of his freend the lyknesse and ymage:
Thynkyng hath grave with deep impressioun
Ech othris fourme, stature and visage;
Her hertys eye did alwey her message,
And mynde medleth in the memorial
And fet his foode in the ffantastical.
9
Thorugh-out her erys wellyd of memoryeThe soun of fame of hem so ferre-i-fet
Hath past and wonne the castel of victorye:
Foryetilnesse ne may it nat vnshet;
Love berith the keye and also the cliket,
As trewe porteer, that they mot needys dwelle
(So ar they loke) withyne myndys selle.
10
Vertu goth ferre, he may nat hyde his liht:Withoute feet a gret paas doth he renne,
And, wher he shyneth, no dirknesse of the nyht
His beemys dymmen, nor no cloude of synne.
Withoute smoke fire ne may nat brenne,
489
To seeke his feer in euery coost or place.
11
For, riht as falsnesse anoon fyndith out his feere,So trouthe and trouthe as faste been at accorde;
Tweyne of o kynde togidre drawe neere,
So strong of nature is the myhty corde.
Kynde is in werkyng a ful myhty lorde:
In love he lynketh hem, that be vertuous,
Riht as dissoluen thynges, that be contrarious.
12
For lich of lich is serchyd and enqueerid:To merthe longith to fynden out gladnesse,
And wo can weepe, thouh he be nat leryd,
And dool eek drawith vnto drerynesse;
Honour is weddyd vnto worthynesse.
Vnto his semblable thus euery thyng can drawe,
And nothyng bynde hem, but natur by hir lawe.
13
Repoort of vertu oonly by audienceFrom ech to othir hath brouht the blisful soun
Of thes too marchauntis disseueryd by absence,
That they been oon, as by affeccioun;
Ther may be maad no divisioun.
With-oute siht ech is to othir deere,
Love hath her hertys so soore set affyre.
14
By lond or se the good her chapmen caryeWas entircomownyd by her bothys assent:
Yiff oon hadde ouht plesaunt or necessarye,
Vnto the tothir anoon he hath it sent.
So ful they were of oon accordement,
As oon in too and too in oon for euere,
That nought, but deth, her love may disseuere.
490
15
Ferthere to telle, how it fel of thes too,As fortune wolde and eek necessite,
That he of Baldac to Egipt mvst goo
For marchaundise, that was in that contre.
Ful glad he was, that he his freend shal see:
A blisful wynd in-to his seyl hath blowe
His ship to dryve, ther as he may hym knowe.
16
Whan that he was arryved vnto londe,For ioye hym thouhte, he was in Paradys;
For euery lovere may weel vndirstonde,
That of frenship the moost sovereyn blys
Is for to be withouten any mys
In thilke place, wher rootid is his herte,
For to relese of love his peynes smerte.
17
For, riht as afftir the blake nyht of sorweGladnesse folwith thoruh suyng of the day,
And fressh flourys displayen by the morwe,
That wern toforn in dirknesse and affray,
And afftir wyntir sweth greene May:
Riht so of ffreendys her tristesse for to fyne
Is liht of presence, whan it to them may shyne.
18
O out on absence of hem, that loven trewe!O out on partyng by disseveraunce!
O ground of woo, of her feuere newe
(I meene, of freendys, that langour in distaunce)!
O bittir bale hangyng in ballaunce!
On the a clamour now I wil begynne,
That causist lovers assondir for to twynne.
19
But, as to them, that han i-tastyd galle,Mor aggreable is the hoony soote,
491
Is, whan they heryn kalendys of her boote.
Of lovers art ful bittir is the roote,
But weel is hym, that may the frute atteyne,
As whilom diden thes noble marchauntis tweyne.
20
For, whan that he of Egipt herde seye,How that his freend was entryd in-to the londe,
For verray ioye he felte his herte pleye,
And hym tencontre, he seyde, he wolde fonde,
And, whan they mette, he took hym by the honde
And kist hym aftir, and with vnfeyned cheere
He seide: “Wolcom, my feithful freend so deere.
21
Now haue I found, that I so longe haue souht.”“Wolcom,” he seide by rowe an hundryd sithe,
And to his place anoon he hath hym brouht
And hym receyved with herte glad and blithe.
He maad his menee her deveer doon as swithe,
That al wer reedy, that myht be to hym ese:
So fayn he was his freend to queeme and plese.
22
Vnto a chaumbre ful riche and weel arrayedAnoon he lad hym, which stood somwhat on heihte,
And seide: “Freend, I am ful weel appayed,
That I be grace of you haue cauht a sihte;
For nothyng moore myn herte myht[e] lihte;
Wherfore wolcom, also God me save,
Vn-to your owne, and to al that I have.”
23
Of mete and drynk, deyntees and vitaille,Of divers wynes ther was no skarsete,
Of straunge viaundys in sondry apparaille,
492
To moore and lasse it snowyd doun plente.
To rekken the fare and cours in thrifty wyse
A somerys day ne myht[e] nat suffise.
24
The riche beddyng of swte so weel beseyne,Passaunt and plesyng eek, the roial paramentis,
That for his freend this marchaunt did ordeyne,
With al the soun of dyvers instrumentys,
Revel disguysed with chaung of garnementis,
Of song and musyk the merthe and melodye—
Al to reherse my witt I can nat plye.
25
They ryde aboute with hauk & eek with houndys,He shewith hym maneers, castellis and eek tours;
Thoruh al his lordship he lat hym in the boundys
By park, by forest, by meedwys fressh of flowrs;
And, list he were pryked with paramours,
Ful many a lady and maiden by his side
On white palfreys he made for to ryde.
26
Of al his tresour withyne and withouteNothyng he hidith: of al he hadde a siht.
He saide: “Freend, withouten any doute,
What so I haue, is platly in your myht.
I feffe you fully in al my good and riht.
Beth glad and wolcom: I can sey you no more.
Haue her myn hand for now and evirmore.”
27
This straunge marchaunt thankyth hym with herte:Nay, “straunge” nat; allas, why seid I soo?
I spak amys, this woord now me asterte,
Sith in accord confederat been they too.
The boond is maad bothe for wele and woo.
I erryd foule to speke of straungenesse
Of tweyne allyed, so kneet in stabilnesse.
493
28
But, as I seyde, with al herte entieerHis freend he thankith of entent ful cleene,
For now presence hath maad the wedir cleer,
Of absence chacyd the mystis ful of teene.
Her ioiful somer is tapited al in greene,
Of stable blew is her bothen hewe
To shewe that too in love wer nevir so trewe.
29
This blisful lyff from day to day they leede,Tyl that fortune to them had enmyte.
Allas, for dool myn herte I feele bleede;
For evir vnwarly cometh aduersite.
This straunge marchaunt hath cauht infirmyte:
A brennyng feuere so soore did hym shake,
That fro the deth he trowith nat to skape.
30
A bed in haste was maad ful softely,In which he cowchyd, and gan to sike and groone.
His prayeer was to alle pitously,
That by hym-silf he myhte been alloone:
So kowde he best yeuen issu to his moone.
But than his freend for woo began to melte,
That al his peynes, he seemyd, that he felte.
31
Thus longith it to freendys, entirparteNat oonly merthe, but wo and hevynesse:
Yif oon hath peyne, bothe hertis it doth thoruh-darte,
Yif that her love be set in sikirnesse,
And, yif oon drye, bothe they haue distresse.
This is the ballaunce oonly of freendys riht:
Euenly to deele, wher they be glad or liht.
32
And for tassaye, yif it myht [hym] ese,The chaunbre is voyded, and he is left al sool.
Than to hym-seluen he spak in his disese
494
Now hoot, now coold I erre, as doth a fool.
Allas, and yit the cheffest of my peyne
Is, that I dar to no wiht weel compleyne.
33
“I am [i-] hurt, but closyd is my wounde:My dethis spere strykith in my brest;
My bollyng festrith, that it may nat sounde,
And yit no cicatrice shewith at the lest.
Cupidis darte on me hath maad arrest:
The cleer streemys of castyng of an ye
This is tharwe, me causith for to dye.
34
“And at myn herte is hoolly, that I feele,But aftir cure, God wot, I dar nat seche.
My sweete fo is hard as any steele.
Allas! vnmercy doth to cruel wreche;
For thilke flour, that myhte be my leche,
She wot riht nouht, what wo that I endure,
And to be ded I dar me nat discure.
35
“And eek my freend, whom I love moost of al,Yif that he knewh my secre maladye,
Ful cruel vengaunce shuld vpon me fal
For myn outrage, despiht and velanye,
That I durst evir clymbyn vp so hihe
To love that maiden kept for his owne stoor:
Thus must I deyen; what shuld I pleynen mor?
36
“I sauh ful many ladyes in the rowteSo fayr, so fressh i-brouht for my plesaunce,
But now for oon my liff lith al in dowte,
That of my deth ther is noon avoidaunce:
And yit the thyng, that doth me moost grevaunce,
Is, that I shulde to hym I am so bounde
Disnatural or traitour been i-founde.
495
37
“For thilke goodly, that he lovyd moost,I am abowte falsly hym to reve.
Love can no frenship, I se weel, in no coost.
Allas, Cupide disseyvable for to leve.
Love rechchith nat his freend [to] wrath and greve.
Allas, of love such is the fervent heete,
That litil chargith his freend for to leete.”
38
And, whil he lay in langour thus musyng,His freend wol besy was with al his myht
To serche aboute the lond envirounnyng:
His menee riden bothe day and niht
To founden som man, that wer expert arriht,
Or phisicien, for no cost wold he spare
To haue restoored the sike to weelfare.
39
Assemblyd been of leechis many oon,The beste and wisest, that he coude ffynde.
Vnto the sike they been i-comen echoon
To taste his poorys and for to deeme his kynde.
The[i] were ful besy to fynd out roote and rynde,
Of what humour was causyd his dissese,
And theron werke his accesse to appese.
40
With hem they brouhte, yif they sey[e] neede,Ful goode siropys to make dygestyues,
And therwithal the sonnere for to speede
Pelotes expert for evacuatyues,
Ful precious poudrys and confortatives,
That, whan they knew of maladyes the roote,
Nouht were behynden to werken for his boote.
496
41
Whan they haue serchid by signes his estat,They merveyle gretly what it myht[e] be,
That his fevere was nat interpollat,
But ay contynueth hoot and in oo degre.
They seide, certeyn, it was noon of the thre,
But yif it were oonly effymora;
For neithir etyk it was ne putrida.
42
Effymera hath his originalWhan mannys spiritys been in distemperaunce,
Or in-to excesse yif a wiht be fal
Of mete and drynk thoruh mysgovernaunce:
Of accidentis, of thouht, of perturbaunce,
Of hoot, of cold or greef in any maneer
This feuere cometh, as auctours tellen heer.
43
And putrida is causyd gladly thus:Whan any humour synneth in quantite,
Or whan his flowyng is to plentevous,
That he excedith mesoure in qualite.
Yiff by blood, anoon ye may it see;
Yif quantite ouht erre, espyeth it thus,
The fevere in phisyk is callyd sinochus.
44
And, yiff the humour in qualite exceedith,Or heete or blood passe his temperament,
In-to a fevere anoon a man it leedith
Clepid synocha by putrefaccioun shent.
And, yif of colra he take his groundement,
Pure or vnpure, citryn or vitellyne,
Gyles you techith to iuge it by vryne.
45
Also of etikes ther be kyndes thre,But oon ther is pereilous in special,
The which is, whan by [any] degre
497
In thilke humydite i-callyd radical;
The which ffevere is gladly incurable,
For drye tisyk is withal partable.
46
Off othir humours han thes leechys eekFul deepe enqueeryd to serchen out the trouthe
By every weye, that they cowde seek:
In hem was ffounde defawte noon nor slouthe;
But atte laste of o thyng ha they routhe,
That he were falle, for ouht they cowd espye,
For thouht or love into malencolye.
47
His vryne was remys, attenuatBy resoun gendryd of ffrigidite,
The veyne ryueers, for they wern oppilat,
It was ful thynne and wannyssh for to see;
The streihte passage causyd aquosite,
Withoute substaunce to voyde hym of colour,
That they dispeired been by his socour.
48
For, whan nature of vertu regitiffThoruh malencolye is pressyd and bor doun,
It is to dreede gretly of the liff,
But soone be ordeyned opposicioun;
For it was likly, that this passioun
Was eithir thouht or love, that men calle
Amor ereos, that he was in falle.
49
The roote wherof and the corrupciounIs of thilke vertu callid estimatiff,
As yif a man haue deep impressioun,
That ovirlordshipith his imagynatif,
And that the cours be forth successyf
To trowe a wiht for love mor fayr or pure,
Than evir hym ordeyned hath God or nature.
498
50
This causith man to fallen in manye,So arn his spiritis vexid by travayle.
Allas, that man shuld fallen in ffrenesye
For love of woman, that litil may avayle!
For now thes leechys, as by supposayle,
Konne of this man noon othir ffevir espye,
But that for love was hool his malladye
51
And, whan his freend the sothe gan vndirgropeOf this myscheef, he nat ne wolde abide;
But in to the chaunbyr anoon he is i-lope
And kneelyd adoun by his beddys syde.
He seyd: “Freend, to me nothyng thu hyde:
Telle me your herte, telle me your hevynesse,
And lat no thouht causen your drerynesse.
52
“Yiff loues ffevere do yow ouht to quake,Telle me the soth and rake nat in the fyre.
Out of your slombre, for shame, why nyl ye wake?
To me vncloose the somme of your desyre.
Be what she be, I shal do my deveere.
Allas, mystrust to lokke it vp fro me!
Telle on, for shame, com of and lat me see!
53
“Your freend mystruste, it is an hih repreeff,Or to concele from hym your priuyte.
Parauenture he may to your myscheeff
Fynde remedye sonnere, than may ye.
And sith in feith so deepe i-sworn be we,
I wol it weten withouten mor delay,
What may you helpyn, by God and by my fay.”
54
And alle the ladyes and maydenys of his hous,Bothe oold and yong, were brouht to his presence.
499
That for hir wysdam and hir excellence
Was moost of alle had in reverence,
The which this marchaunt for oon the beste alyve
Kept in his hous in purpoos hir to wyve.
55
Ful wys she was of so tendir age,Prudent and war and ful of honeste,
Devoyde cleene of vices and outrage,
Whos beaute flouryd and virginite,
Plesaunt of poort, roote of humylite,
Of maneer myrour and welle of womanheede,
Goodly abayssht and ffemynyn of dreede.
56
Hool of hir herte, benygne and immvtable,Nat frel, fadyng, but ful of affiaunce,
In moral vertu mesuryd and tretable,
Housoold to guye ful war of governaunce:
To been exaunple, kynde hir lyst avaunce,
That, yif I shal hir shortly comprehende,
In hir was nothyng, that nature myht amende.
57
The sike marchaunt, whan he hir beheeld,With dreedful herte and voys ful tymerous
He seide: “Certis, but mercy be my sheeld
To you, my freend, that ye be gracious,
That on my trespas ye be nat rigerous
To take vengaunce on myn hih folye,
That I was boold to sette myn herte so hihe.
58
“O, mercy, freend, and rewe vpon my liff:Deth fro my gilt, I wot, is resounable.
Love is gynnere and ground of al my striff.
But in o thyng I am inexcusable,
That I so love that fayr incomperable,
Which is to you so plesaunt and so meete:
And, to be slayn, to love I can nat leete.
500
59
“Do, what yow list: for, tyl myn herte ryve,I may nat chesyn, that I am hir man;
For, with my silf thouh I evirmor stryve,
Ther is noon othir, that I love can;
For hir in syknesse I am so pale and wan.
Thus I me confesse and put me in your grace:
My liff, my deeth is portrayed in hir face.”
60
This freendly marchaunt of this nat dysmayed,But with good herte saide, as ye may heere:
“Allas, my freend, why art thu so dismayed
For love, anoon sith thu maist han hir heere
With al hir beaute and cristal eyen cleere?
Betwix yow too in love to make a boond,
I gyf hir the: haue, tak hir by the hond.
61
“And ful and hool, as I haue any riht,I give hir the, which is so wys and sage.
Rys vp anoon and be riht glad and liht,
For I wil makyn between yow the maryage
And bere thexpence fully and costage
Of your weddyng,” and hath a day i-set
Of hir spousayl to see the knotte i-knet.
62
Anoon he ros supportyd by gladnesse,And doun he fel lowly on his kne,
And hym he thankyd for his gentillesse,
That fro the deth hath maad hym skapid fre.
“Allas,” he seide, “whan shal I thanken the,
That hast so freely thyn owne love forsake
Thy freend to save, and hool and sound to make?”
63
The passaunt costys, the feeste of her weddyng,Iustys and revel and al the purveiaunce,
The grete yiftys, the cheer so surmountyng—
501
For Ymeneus, that hath the governaunce
Of such feestys to make accordement,
Therto Fortune was therat present.
64
Thus is the syke of his langour lissyd,The blosme of bounte by frenshipe hath he wonne;
For hertly merthe to hym is now nat myssyd,
No shadwe of sorwe forfarith nat his sonne,
His freend to hym abrochyd hath the tonne
Of freendly triacle; for nevir I radde yit,
O freend to a-nothir that so weel hath hym quyt.
65
To hym relesyd he hath his hertly glorye,Hym silf dismyttid of his inward ioye;
The briht myrour, the liht of his memorye,
Which al his rancour by refut cowde coye,
He hath forsake, the guyere of his ioye,
His lives lanterne, staff of his crokyd age,
To bryng his freend in quiete out of rage.
66
Off this mateer what shuld I write mor?I wil entrete this processe forth in pleyn:
Hir and hir iowellys, hir richesse and hir stor
He hath hym youen, the stoory seith certeyn,
And hom with al repayred is ageyn
And lad hir with hym, as was his freendys wyl,
Which cowde nat feyne his plesaunce to fulfyl.
67
At ther departyng the moornyng for to wite,The wooful teerys, dolour and hevynesse,
Myn herte bleedith, whan I therof endite,
To knowe her trouble, turment and distresse.
But of this marchaunt lyst the kyndenesse:
502
Than love of hir, that sat so nyh his herte.
68
Moornyng for absence he is lefft allone:The tothir streiht to Baldoc, his contre,
With wyff and catel the riht weye is gone
And ther receyved with gret solennyte.
Her lyff they ledde in gret prosperite,
His wif and he of oon herte in quyete:
For with a bettir no man ne myht mete.
69
Ther was no stryff between hem nor debate,But ful accordid they be bothe nyht and day;
She hym obeyeth in al erlich and late:
Whan he seid “ya,” she coud nat sey “nay”,
A bettir wyff was nevir at al assay;
Ioyned in oon thus been her hertys too,
That nouht, but deth, her love may fordoo.
70
For alle wyves, as ferre as evir I kneuh,Withyne her brest hath growyng pacience:
Suffryng and meeke they been ilich[e] new;
But yiff so be, that men hem doon offence,
They love nat, men make experience
Of her lownesse. But lyst I hem displese,
Ye gete no more: passe ovir is an ese.
71
Thus leve I hem in her iolite(I meene thes too), ech lykyng othir weel;
I speke no mor of her felicite:
For no man may such ioye & merthe feel,
But he were expert to telle it euerydeel.
For to the marchaunt of Egipt will I turne,
Which for his freend in woo I lefte moorne.
503
72
But now, allas, who shal my stile guye,Or hen[ne]s forth who shall be my muse?
For verray dool I stond in iupartye:
Al merthe of makyng my mateer mot refuse.
Me in-to stoon transmwed hath Meduse
For verray stonyng of Fortunys fikylnesse,
That for the merveyle no woord I can expresse.
73
Allas, Meggera, I mot now vnto theOf herte calle to helpe me compleyne
And to thy sustir eek, Thesiphone,
That afftir ioye goddessys been of peyne.
O weepyng Mirre, now lat thy teerys reyne
In-to myn ynke so clubbyd in my penne,
That rowthe in swaggyng abrood[e] make it renne.
74
It sitt the nat enlwmyned for to beOf othir colour but oonly al of sable.
O doolful mateer! who so now reede the,
He may weel seyn, this world is ful chaungable;
For, how this marchaunt whilom so worshipable
(I meene of Egipt) Fortune did avale,
Mot be as now [the] remenaunt of my tale.
75
To hym Fortune hir falsnesse hath overt,Hir swift[e] wheel turned vp so doun;
For he is ffallen and plonget in povert
Thoruh vanysshyng of his possessioun.
Now al is brouht in-to destruccioun:
Rychesse and freendys been alle i-feere goon,
And he in myscheef is sool i-lefft aloon.
76
This newe Iob, i-cast in indigence,He weepith, wayleth, soleyn and solitarye;
504
And evir his liff he gan to curse and warye.
“O, out on neede of malys multipharye”:
He gan to crye in his ire and woo,
Lych a man in furye for-poosyd to and froo.
77
For remembraunce of oold prosperiteHath with a darte hym woundid to the herte.
Mor vnkouth was to hym aduersite,
That nevir to-forn no trouble did hym smerte;
For mor despeyred he was for a sterte,
That he ne hadde of woo noon excersise:
Hym thouhte, it was to hym a newe emprise.
78
Thus is the sweete of his tranquylliteFul neewly turned in-to bittirnesse;
Thus is he valyd adoun from hih degre
Ful many a steiher lowe in-to wrechydnesse.
His lyff he leedith al in werynesse;
For now Fortune hath chaungid newe his weede:
Freend nor foo ne took of hym noon heede.
79
But, by hym-silf walkyng in wildirnesse,He gan to pleyne his sodeyn poore estaat
And seide: “Allas, wher is the kyndenesse
Of alle my freendys to me disconsolaat?
I pley[e] sool, I am almoost chek-maat:
That whilom hadde my menee me aboute,
Now destitut I am beshet withoute.
80
“Now am I repreef to my freendys alle,Markyd of many and of the peeple fable.
Now wot I nat, to whom for helpe calle,
That sat so glorious somtyme at my table;
And they, that than wer to me servisable,
Han by despit at myscheef me forsake.
Gret cause haue I an outcry for to make.
505
81
“O out on shame of hauhtesse plongid lowe!O out on dolour of lordship brouht to nouht!
O out on richesse with vanyte forblowe,
Forsakyng soone and with gret travayle souht!
O worldly blisse, of me ful dere abouht,
Thy sodeyn turn now doublith my grevaunce
Mor than of it I nevir hadde had plesaunce.
82
“Now hongir, thrust, vnkouth as vnto me,Vnwarly sweth my passyd habundaunce.
Now cold, now nakyd in necessite
I walke aboute for my sustenaunce.
Whilom in plente and now al in grevaunce!
Allas, my fulle is derkyd in-to wane,
With wynd forwhirlyd as is a mvaunt ffane.
83
“O, in this world what woo and werynesse,What mortal torment assaileth al aboute!
What grevous molest and what besynesse
With many assaut in dreed doth vs to doute!
Now vp, now doun, as doth a curraunt goute,
So ar we travailed with solicitude:
The world with mowhes so weel can vs delude.
84
“But I knowe weel, who trustith on the moost,Shal be deceyued, whan he to the hath neede.
Wher is the clarioun of thy cry and boost,
That to [the] skyes my fame did[e] beede?
Who seruyth the, what shal be his meede:
Whan that he wenyth thu maist hym most availe,
Than in the hand rathest thu wilt hym fayle?”
85
O seely marchaunt, myn hand I feele quakeTo write thy woo in my translacioun;
Ful offte I weepe also for thy sake,
506
Of thy degree and transmutacioun.
Allas, to the I can no bet diffence
Than the to arme strongly in pacience.
86
Nat oonly thu, but euery man on lyve,How hih in throne he sittith exaltat,
Lat hym nat tempte ageyn[e]s God to stryve,
But take his sonde meekly withoute debat;
For who so do, he is infortunat.
No wele is worthy, that may no woo endure,
Wherfor ech man tak paciently his ewre.
87
For Senek seith with ful hih sentenceOf preef in povert, who-so that hym reede,
In thylke book he made of providence,
That he vnhappy is, withouten dreede,
Which nevir ne hadde adversite nor neede,
Of whom the goddys dempten pleynly thus:
“Withouten assay no man is vertuous.”
88
“And yiff a tre with frut be ovirlade,”In his Epistles he seith, as ye may see,
“Both braunche and bouh wol enclyne and fade.
And greyne oppressith to moche vberte.
Riht so it farith of fals felicite,
That yif his weihte mesure do exceede,
Than of a fal gretly is to dreede.”
89
But, why that God this marchaunt list visite,As I suppose, it was hym for to preeve.
Thouh he were wooful, he was the lasse wite,
Sith nevir afforn Fortune did hym greeve.
From his wantrust he was brouht in beleeve,
That he weel kneuh, this world was ful vnstable
And nat abydyng, but evirmor variable.
507
90
And, whan he kneuh the grete vnsikyrnesseOf worldly lust by preef in special,
On knees he fel with devout humblesse,
Ful lowe of herte, and thankyd God of al,
And sayde: “Lord, thouh I haue had a fal,
Ne put me nat fro thy proteccioun,
Sith I it take for my probacioun.
91
“But, goode Lord, lat me Thy grace fyndeAnd guye my wittis, that I be nat despeyred;
But me enspeere, puttyng in my mynde
Som hoope of refut, that am so soore appeyred.
And, thouh to richesse ther be no grees i-steyred
Tascenden vp, as I was wont to doone,
Yit, goode Lord, do confort to my boone.”
92
And, whil he lay thus in his orisoun,Ful poorly clad in ful symple weede,
His herte was brouht in consolacioun,
Which in-to lissyng his langour did leede.
He thouhte, he wolde preeve his freend at neede;
And vnto Baldac, for to make assay,
In pilgrym wise he took the rihte way.
93
And, whan he was comen to that londe,Ful soore afferd he was for to compleyne.
“Allas!” he seide, “myn herte dar nat fonde
Vnto my freend to shewen out my peyne,
That whiloom was in richesse so hauhteyne;
For to be ded, I dar for shamfastnesse;
Nat shewe a poynt to hym of my distresse.”
94
And eek, that it was somwhat late,Whan he was entryd in-to that cite,
Hym liked nat to knocken at the gate
508
And it was nyht: therfor he lefte be,
List of his freend he were anoon refusyd
As man vnknowe or for som spye accusyd.
95
In-to a temple foundid by dayes oldeHe is i-entryd, a place al desolat,
And leyd hym doun by the wallys colde,
So weyk, so wery, forwandryd and for-mat.
O pompe emporisshyd, whilom so elat!
Take heed, ye ryche, of what estat ye bee;
For in this marchaunt your myrour ye may see.
96
How many a man hath Fortune assayled,With sleihte i-cast, whan he best wende ha stonde,
Her habiriownys of steel also vnmayled!
For al her trust she nolde the lasse wonde
To pleye this pleye bothe with free and bonde.
For who stood evir yit in surete,
That in som siht infect was his degre?
97
For by exaumplys nature doth declare,Which is of God mynystir and vikeer;
Withoute tonge she biddith vs beware
By thylke sterrys, that shynen briht and cleer,
Which by her concours and mevyng circuleer,
In her discens westyng vndir wavys
Vs to enfourmen by chaungyng of hir lawys.
98
And fewe of hem alway to vs appeere,But yif it be the bere briht and sheene
In thilke plow, that Arthow doth it steere;
For yit Boetes, that twynkelith wondir keene,
Somwhile is dym, that men may nat hym seene;
509
By nyht hym hidith vndir our empeere.
99
The day doth passe of vanite and glorye,And nyht approchith, whan Titan is gon doun.
But who list wynne the palme by victorye,
The world to venquyssh ful of elacioun,
Lat hym despise as a chaunpioun
Al erthly lustys, that shynen but in dreede,
And of this marchaunt evir among tak heede.
100
Evir entirmedlyd is merthe and heuynesse,Now liht, now soory; now ioiful, now in woo;
Now cleer aloffte, now lowe in dirk[e]nesse,
As Iubiter hath couchyd tonnes too
Withyne his ceeleer, platly and no moo:
That oon is ful of ioye and gladnesse
That othir ful of sorwe and bittirnesse.
101
Who that wil entren to tamen of the sweete,He mvst as weel taken his aventure
To taste in bittir, or he the vessel leete,
And bothe ilich of strong herte endure;
He may nat clense the thykke from the pure:
Fo[r], who that wil swetnesse first abroche,
He mot be war, or bittir wol approche.
102
Of thes too i-dronken at the fulleHath this marchaunt, that I of spake erwhyle;
The laste beuere so maad his hed to dulle,
That he ne lest but litil lawh or smyle;
Expert he was bothe of trust and guyle:
For, wher that he his beddyng whilom chees,
Slept on the ground now nakyd herberwelees.
510
103
And whil that he lay sleepyng in this wise,An hap befel of too men in the toun,
Betwix the which a contek gan to ryse
Riht ther besyde with gret[e] noyse and soun:
That oon his felawe hath slayn and bore doun
Vndir the temple, wher as this marchaunt lay,
And lefft hym ther and fled anoon his way.
104
The toun was reised with rvmour riht anoonAnd to the temple faste gonne renne;
Now heer, now ther, ful swyft[e]ly they goon
To taken hym, that hadde wrouht this synne
Tyl atte laste they souhte han hym withynne
And with the noyse, as they gonne in threste,
The poore marchaunt abrayd out of his reste.
105
Riht sor astonyd, palen gan his hewe,Whan they hym asken, what mystir man he were,
Or yif that he thomycide knewe,
That hadde slayn the man, “that liggith there.”
And he anoon withouten dreed or fere
Seyde: “Certeynly, thouh ye me hange and drawe,
No wiht but I hath this man i-slawe.”
106
His covetise was to ha be ded,That he by deth hys myserye myht fyne;
His woo heeng on hym heuyere than led,
And pouerte did hym so moche pyne
He wolde, that deth had leyd hook and lyne
Tacacchyd hym in to his bittir las:
Therfor on hym he took this hih trespas.
107
“O Deth, desyred in aduersite,Whan thu art callyd, why nylt thu wrecchys heere?
And art so reedy in felicite
511
O com now, Deth, and maak of me thy feere,”
This marchaunt crieth in his wooful herte:
So ful he was of inward peynes smerte.
108
Anoon he was i-taken and i-boundeAnd cast in prisoun tyl on the nexte morwe,
And than i-taken and brouht, as they hym founde,
Afforn the iustice; for no man wold hym borwe.
To seen a fyn he hopith of his sorwe;
For-dempt he was thoruh his owne speche
By iugement to han for deth the wreche.
109
And than, as faste as he to deth was lad,His oold[e] freend happyd forby passe,
The which beheeld hym with cheer demvre & sad
And kneuh the feturys and signes of his face.
And anoon he prayeth leyseer to hym and space
For to been herd of hem in pacience
And stynt a whyle to yive hym audience.
110
“Sires,” he seith, “so it nat yow displese,This man is dampned so ful of innocence,
And gilt[e]les ye don hym this disese;
For I my silf haue wrouht this gret offence:
To me it fallith tencurren the sentence
Of deth, the trouthe weel to founde;
For with myn hand I gaff his dedly wounde!”
111
His herte was meevyd of oold naturesseTo save his freend and for hym for to deye;
And he was hent anoon and pullyd by duresse,
With swre arrest they handys on hym leye,
And al her lust meekly he did obeye;
512
Wher he was dampned by concours of the lawe.
112
Thoo was he lad with weepyng and pite,Toward his deth, of many hym besyde.
His poore freend was loos at liberte,
Which thouhte for woo deth thoruh his herte glyde;
Whyls in the prees the verray homycide,
That sothfastly that deede hadde i-wrouht,
Spak to hym-sylf thus in his owne thouht:
113
“Allas, myn herte, hard as the dyamaunt,How maist thu suffre this cruelte [to] seen!
Allas, thoruh remors why ne were I repentaunt
The southfast trouthe to be confessyd cleen?
Allas, this wrong! how may I thus susteen
To see afore me vngilte thus i-take
And lad to dethward oonly for my sake?
114
“O rihtwys God, to whom ech pryuyteIs pleyn and open to Thy magnyficence,
O Lord, that knowyst myn hyd iniquite:
Beholdyng al, O Sonne of Sapience,
Ne take no vengaunce of myn hih offence,
That I so longe concelyd haue the trouthe;
But of Thy mercy, Lord, haue on me routhe.
115
“For weel I wot, that of Thy rihtwysnesseThu mvst me punysshen at Thy iugement,
And thouh Thu suffre a while in esynesse,
Blood wil haue wreche, that wrongfully is spent.
O blood vngilte, O blood so innocent,
How canst thu gon to deth and nat compleyne,
To wreke the afftir on me with cruel peyne?
513
116
“To the hih God, eternal in His see,Blood crieth out, that is i-shad in wronge,
And seith: ‘O Lord, whan wilt Thu vengyd bee
Vpon our deth? why bydist Thu so longe?’
Of innocentys this is the noote and songe;
Wherfor I wol, whil I haue liff and space,
The sothe be-knowe, and put me in Thy grace.
117
“It is to moche, that I haue slayn oon;And, but I speke, toward is anothir,
The which is domb and stille as ony stoon,
For verray love for to save his brothir:
Everych is reedy to fonge deth for othir.
Now wyl I goon and pleynly me confesse
And for my gilt receyven the redresse.”
118
With open mouth lowde he gan to crye:“O ye disceyved peeple by errour!
That innocent, allas, why shal he dye,
Which nevir ne was his lyve trespasour?
Turneth ageyn and let be this clamour
And let to me her doom been hool reserved:
For I am he, that hath the deth disserved.
119
“Let hym go loos, sith he of gilt is fre:It is my silf, that hath the deede i-do.
Why wyl ye erren and punysshen verite
And let falsnesse at his large go?”
The peeple of this gan for to wondren tho,
And eek the iustices, of this sodeyn chaunce,
That alle here wittis wer hangid in ballaunce.
120
Yit nevirtheles thus they [haue] i-wrouhte:The ffirste the[i] vnbounde and this othir take,
514
Tofore the kyng and ther a processe make,
How ech of thes hath don for othrys sake,
And pray[e]n hym good iuge for to bee
To fynde a wey the trouthe for to see.
121
This worthy kyng to serchyn out the rihtShewith hym-silff bothe wys and eek tretable,
And made mercy to goon afforn his myht,
Shapyng a mene ful iust and resonable:
To alle thre he shewyd hym merciable;
Of al the crym, withyne woordys fewe,
Pardoun he grauntith, so they the trouthe shewe.
122
Of al the cas they haue no poynt i-sparyd(First of her ffrenship, ioye and adversite),
But woord by woord the stoory hool declaryd:
Bothe of thes tweyne the love and vnyte—
Ye han that herd, ye gete no mor of me,—
And how the thrydde hadde a conscience,
For his trespace so dampned innocence.
123
With gret merveile they wondryn on this thyng,To seen in frenship so hool affeccioun,
And specially this wise, worthy kyng
Gan wisshe of herte, that thoruh his regioun
Were ful affermyd an obligacioun
Off such enteernesse fro man to man aboute:
Off tresoun than ful litil wer to doute.
124
Ful hard it were tacomplisshen his desyrOr in his rewm[e] such a bargeyn dryve:
The aeyer infect, the wedir is nat cleer
Ne nevir ne shal, whil tresoun is so ryve;
For now of trowthe no man can contryve
A verray seel or thenpreent i-grave
Withoute a label his armes hool to save.
515
125
But, whan thys kyng hath thus doon hem grace,He let hem goo at her eleccioun,
And he of Baldac hat[h] lad hoom to his place
His poore freend with gret processioun.
He rayeth hym newe with good affeccioun
And seide: “Freend, your pensiffheed asswage
And for pouert ne beeth no more in rage.
126
“But here anoon, as ferre as it may laste,Of al my good halvendeel is youre:
I wyl, that it departyd be as faste
At your devise your pouert to socoure;
For our frenship shal every sesoun floure,
And in short tyme, I telle it you in pleyn,
Ye shul to richesse restooryd be ageyn.
127
“And than at erst avised ye may telle,Vnto your contre whedir ye wil returne
Or heer with me al your lyff[e] dwelle:
The choys is your; look no more ye moorne!
And whersobe ye goon or heer soiourne,
Haue heer my trouthe, our hertys shul been oon,
Whil breeth may laste, and nevir vnsondir goon.”
128
By egal witt his goodys everychonWer tho departyd betwix thes freendys too,
Bycause this marchaunt wold algatys gon
Hom to his contre, that he lovyd soo.
The stoory tellith, withoute woordys moo,
Riht in-to Egipt he is goon ageyn;
Of her frenship what shuld I you moor seyn?
129
I say you platly, so as it seemyth me;Of thyng weel preevyd to maken rehersayl
516
Lest tediouste your erys did assayl,
Sith ye it knowe, it may nothyng avayl
Of her frenship ferther more divyne:
For, as they gonne, so in love they ffyne.
Lenvoye.
Thus of this tale to you I make an eende.On my rewde tellyng of curtesye ye rewe,
And God I prey, that He His grace sende,
That euery freend to othir be as trewe,
As were thes marchauntis alway ilich[e] newe.
This my desyr in al degrees of men:
That it so be, I pray you, seith, “Amen.”
Explicit quod Lidgate.
| The Minor Poems of John Lydgate | |