72. A THOROUGHFARE OF WOE.
[_]
[From MS. Harl. 2251, leaves 246, back, to 249, back.]
1
Lyft up the ieen of your aduertence,
Ye that beth blynde with worldly vanyte,
No better myrrour than experience,
For to declare his mutabilite.
Lo! now with ioye, now with aduersite,
To erthly pilgrymes that passen to and froo,
Fortune shewith ay, by chaungyng hir see,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
2
Boys in his booke of Consolacioun,
Writeth and rehersith fortunes variaunce,
And makith there a playne discripcioun,
To trust on hir ther is none assuraunce;
For who til hir, lo! hath attendaunce,
Is liche a pilgryme passyng to and froo,
To shewe to vs with sugred false plesaunce,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
3
In this world here is none abidyng place,
But that it is by processe remuable:
For who had euer in erth suche a grace,
To make fortune for to abide stable:
Hir double face is so variable,
Seeth by these pilgrymes that passen to and fro,
To prudent folkes an ymage acceptable,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
4
Nis nat this world liche a pilgrymage,
Wher high ne lowe no while may abyde?
Liche a fayre peynture sette on a stage,
That sodainly is oft so cast aside?
Fy on pompe, and fy on worldly pride,
Whiche bien but pilgrymes passyng to and froo,
To shewe plainly, who that can provide,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
5
Oure fader Adam bygan with sore travaile,
Whan he was flemed out of Paradice.
Lord! what myght than gentillesse availe,
The first[e] stokke of labour toke his price;
Adam in the tilth whilom was holden wyse,
And Eve in spynnyng prudent was also,
For to declare as be myn advise,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
6
Is nat the cart and the laborious plough,
Of lordes riches and of theyr haboundaunce
Roote and grounde, if they kowde have i-nowgh,
And hold hem content with fortunes chaunce.
But covetise oppressith souffisaunce,
In worldly pilgrymes passyng to and froo,
To shewen allas and maken demonstraunce,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
7
And for to telle plainly and nat to spare,
Whiche bien the worthy surmountyng noblesse,
That han be tymes passid this thurghfare,
And kowde therin fynde no surenesse,
For to abyde but chaunge and doublenesse,
What was ther fyne whan that they shuld goo?
Redith the cronycles and trouth shal expresse,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
8
Who was more knyghtly than was Iosue,
Whiche hyng vp kynges there at Gabaon?
Or more manly than Iudas Machabe,
Meker than Dauid, wiser than Salamon?
Or fayrer founde than was Absolon?
Icheon but pilgrymes passyng to and froo;
Takyng ensample also by Sampson,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
9
Hector was slayne also of Achilles,
As he hym mette vnwarly in bataile,
And Iulius was murthred in the prese,
Whan senatours at Rome hym dide assaile.
What myght the conquest of Alisaundre availe?
Al ner but pilgrymes passyng to and froo,
Plainly to declare to riche and to the poraile,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
10
Remembrith how that many a riche realme,
Hath bien to-forn cast downe and ouerthrowe,
Prynces of provynces whilom Ierusalem,
Was for his synne somtyme brought ful lowe,
Seede of discord also that was sowe,
Among the Troians in myddes of theyr mortal woo,
Gyvith evidence to make men to knowe,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
11
Of Babyloyne the grete Balthasar,
Whan he sat hyest in his estate royal,
Ful sodainly, or he list be ware,
Had from his crowne a ful dredeful fal;
Mane techel phares writen on the walle,
Taught hym plainly what wey he shuld goo,
To vs concludyng in especial,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
12
[The gret stryffe and the deuisyon]
Betwene Pompey and Cesar Iulius,
Was grounde and cause why that Rome town
Distroyed was, cronycles tellen vs;
Cesar slayne by Brutus Cassius,
Makyng thempire vnto declyne to goo,
For to reporte plainly vnto vs,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
13
Hertis devided have caused mochel wrake;
Recorde on Fraunce and Parys the fayre citee,
Betwene Burgoynoun and hateful Armynake,
Gynnyng and roote of grete mortalite,
Shedyng of bloode, slaughter, and aduersite,
As Martis chaunce torned to and froo,
To yeve ensample if men kowde se,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
14
The fyft Henry, the myghti conquerour,
To sette rest atwene Ingland and Fraunce,
Dide his peyne and diligent labour,
As he wele kydde by knyghtly gouernaunce,
[But o allas, fortunes varyaunce]
To grete hyndryng of these reames twoo,
Toke hym awey, to shewe vs in substaunce,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
15
Clarence the Duk, ensample of gentilesse,
Of fredam callid the verray exemplayre;
The Duk of Excestre, ful famous of prowesse,
Though he were knyghtly, he was eke debonayre;
But for al that fortune was yit contrayre:
To both these dukes, allas! why dide she so?
But for hir list to shewe by mortal chaunce,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
16
Of Salusbury the manly Montagw,
Though he was preved in armys a goode knyght,
The fatal day yit myght he nat eschewe,
Whan that he dyed for his kynges right,
And Parchas sustren list preve ther yvel myght,
Of his paradice, whan it come therto,
To make a myrrour how we may have a sight,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
17
Stabilnesse is founde in nothyng,
In worldly honour who so lokith wele;
For deth ne sparith emperour ne kyng,
Though they be armed in plates made of steele:
He castith downe princes from Fortunes wheele,
As hir spokes rounde about[e] goo,
To exemplifye, who that markith wele,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
18
God sent aforn ful oft his officers,
To dukes, erles, barouns of estate,
Sommoneth also by his mynisters
Surquidous people, pompous and elate,
Ageyns whos somons they dare make no debate,
Obey his preceptis and may nat go ther fro,
To signifie to pope and to prelate,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
19
Of his bedils the names to expresse,
And of his sergeauntis, as I can endite,
To somowne he sendith langour and sikenesse,
And som with povert hym list to visite;
To iche estate so wele he can hym qwyte,
Markyng his seruantis with tokens where they goo,
To shewe hem plainly as I dare wele write,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
20
Whom that he lovith, the Lord forgeth hym nought,
I meane the children of his heritage,
He gyvith hem leuerey of gold ne perle i-wrought;
The prente whiche he bare in his pilgremage,
Scorne and rebuke cast in his visage,
He pacient and sayde nothyng therto,
But gaf ensample to euery maner of age,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
21
Thankith God with humble pacience,
Whan he yow visiteth with suche aduersite,
Heven nys nat wonne with worldly influence,
With gold ne tresour ne grete prosperite,
But with suffraunce and with humylite,
For this lyf heere, take goode heede therto,
Faileth ay at nede wherby ye may se,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
22
Kynges princis, most souerayne of renoun,
For al theyr power, theyr myght, theyr excellence,
Nor philosophers of euery regioun,
Nor the prophetes preferred by science,
Were nat fraunchised to make resistence,
But liche pilgrymes whan it cam therto,
To shewe ensample and playn evidence,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
23
Reken vp the realmes and the monarchyes,
Of erthly princes, reigneng in theyr glorye,
With theyre sceptres and theyr regalyes,
With theyr tryumphes conquerid bi victorye,
Theyr marcial actes entitled by memorye,
And to remembre whan that al this is doo,
They doo but shewe a shadew transitorye,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
24
O, ye maysters, that cast shal yowre looke
Vpon this dyte made in wordis playne,
Remembre sothly that I the refreyd tooke,
Of hym that was in makyng souerayne,
My mayster Chaucier, chief poete of Bretayne,
Whiche in his tragedyes made ful yore agoo,
Declared triewly and list nat for to feyne,
How this world is a thurghfare ful of woo.
