Lydgate's Fall of Princes :: :: University of Virginia Library

In compleynyng, myn auctour Iohn Bochas
Ful pitousli in his aduertence
Bewepith, wailith, & offte seith allas,
In an appel ther was so gret offence,
That for a tast off inobedience,
Adam, allas, sholde ha[ue] so gret a fall,
So sodenli to deie and be mortall!

Which exaumpil ouhte I-nouh suffise,
In al this world[e] thouh there were no mo,
Texemplefie to folkis that be wise,
How this world is a thoruhfare ful off woo,
Lich fals Fortune, which turnyth to and fro
To make folkis, whan thei most cleerli shyne,
In ther estatis onwarli to declyne.

For thouh that thei her hedis leffte a-loffte
Hih as Phebus shynyth in his speer,
Thynke them-silff[e], as it fallith offte,
Ther renoun rechith aboue the sterris cleer,
And how ther fame surmountith euery speer—

Ther trust corrupt hath a ful sodeyn fall,
For to declare how thei be mortall.

O worldli folk, aduertisith off entent,
What vengaunce and what punycioun
God shal taken in his iugement
For your trespas and your transgressioun,
Which breke his preceptis a-geyn al resoun!
Ye han forgoten, how with his precious blood
You for to saue he starff vpon the rood.

For yiff Adam for his disobeissaunce
Was bi the Lord, as hym list ordeyne,
Maad first & formyd with euery circumstaunce
Off creatures to be most souereyne,
Yiff that he was enbraced in the cheyne
Off seruitute, with thraldam ouerseyn,
What shal I thanne off othir folkis seyn,

That lyuyn heer in this desert off sorwe,
In this exil off plesance desolat,
And in this world[e], both at eue & morwe,
Off hertili ioie stonde disconsolat,
Al destitut and eek infortunat,
And forpossid with wo off worldli trouble,
Ay variable and ful off chaungis double?

Ye nat entende but to fals couetise,
To fraude, baret and extorsioun,
Geyn God and trouthe in many dyuers wise,
Geyn your neihbour be fals collusioun
To doon [him] wrong and oppressioun,
And werst off all, ye rechch[e] nat be synne
To sle your soule, worldli good to wynne.

And yiff it falle your power be but small
Taccomplisshe your auarice in deede,
Your synful will assentith ouerall
Thyng to desire off which ye may nat speede;
And thus fals lust doth your bridil leede,
Thrust off hauyng so sore you doth assaile,
Falsli afferd the world you sholde faile.

And yiff that God, benigne and debonaire,
With his yerde off castigacioun
Chastise you but esili and faire,
Ye grucch ageyn[es] his correccioun,
Nothyng aduertyng in your discrecioun,
How God nat bad us, who can taken heed,
Nat for to stryue nor to wrastle in deed,

Nouther our strengthe nor our myht tapplie
Vpon the beeste monstruous and sauage,
Which callid is the Chymere off Licie—
Speciali whan he is in his rage,
Which monstre hadde to his auauntage
Hed off a leoun, as bookis determyne,
Wombe off goot, and tail serpentyne,

Which was outraied off Bellofforon,
As olde poetis make mencioun.
Nor God bad nat that men sholde gon
Into Colchos to conquere with Iason
The Flees off Gold, which in that regioun
With firi bolis off metal maad and bras,
And bi a dragoun ful streihtli kepid was.

God bad us nat our cuntrees for to lete
To vndirfonge thynges inpossible,
The Minotaur for to slen in Crete,
Halff man, halff bole, yiff it be credible,
Which was a monstre hatful and odible,
Whilom brouht foorth, in bookis ye may see,
Bi Minos wiff, callid Pasiphe,

Whos story techith, yiff ye list to lere,
This ougli beeste cruel and monstruous,
Thoruh Adriane, the kyngis douhter deere,
Was whilom slay[e]n be duc Theseus
Withynne a caue maad be Dedalus.
God bit us nat, pleynli, for his sake,
So gret emprises for to vndirtake.

He bit us nat to been so rek[e]les
In pereilous deedis that been marciall
Vs to iuparte as dede Hercules,

Which bi the biddyng in especiall
Off Euristeus, the myhti kyng roiall,
Lord off Athenys, to make his honour shyne,
Lernyd off armys the famous disciplyne.

Off his preceptis yiff we han a siht
And remembre off his hih bounte,
He vs comaundith thyngis that been liht
For taccomplisshe with al humilite,
From our corage tauoide al vanite,
And from our hertis texcludyn idilnesse
And the fals chaung off al worldli gladnesse.

For on-taman that parfit is and stable,
Bi good resoun myn auctour doth well preue,
There is no thyng mor fair nor agreable
Than fynali his vicious liff to leue,
On verray God rihtfully beleue,
Hym loue and worshepe a-boue al ertheli thinges;
This passith victory off emperours and kynges.

The Lord bit eek, who that can discerne,
Off enteer loue to doon our labour
In this liff heer so oursilff gouerne,
To fadir & moodir that we do dieu honour,
And in ther neede to doon to hem socour,
And in al vertu our frendis to conforte,
And to our power in myscheeff hem supporte.

For in this world is no thyng mor parfit,
Nor taccomplisshe thyng off mor plesance,
Than a man for to haue delit
In litil good to hauen suffisance,
And be content in his gouernance,
Voide auarice and thynkyn euer a-mong,
To his neihbour that he do no wrong.

Nat to coueite his goodis in no wise,
Hymsilff gouerne lik to his estat,
Nat excede, but fleen and eek despise

Al maner loue which is disordynat,
Hymsilff preseruyng from contek & debat,
And speciali teschewen, it is good,
Slauhtre, moordre & shedyng eek off blood.

Fleen from his synne and hatyn for to lie,
Off olde offencis a-mong ha[ue] repentance,
And teschewe al scorn and moquerie,
Ageyn vicis doon almesse and penance,
And to haue most souere[y]nli plesance
To sue the pathes of our Lord Iesu,
Trewe exaumplaire off grace and al vertu.

Which for our sake and our redempcioun
And for our loue was nailid to a tre,
Suffrid peyne and cruel passioun,
And nothyng axeth, off hih nor low degre
Recompensid ageynward for to be,
But that we sette al hooli our ententis
For to fulfille his comaundementis.

And off his grace heer in this mortal liff,
As we precelle in wisdom and resoun,
And off his giffte han a prerogatiff
Toforn all beestis bi discrecioun,
Therfore lat us off hool entencioun,
As we off resoun beestis ferr exceede,
Lat us forn hem be, be woord, exaumple and deede.

Grounde us first vpon humilite,
Our pompous eien meekli to vnclose,
Enclyne our hedis, and to conceyue and see
Al worldli welthe shal fadyn as a rose,
And off meek herte lat us oursilff dispose,
Bi this tragedie to ha[ue] knowlechyng
Off our myscheeff how roote and eek gynnyng

Was the vice off inobedience,
Surquedie and fals disobeissaunce,
As myn auctour hath shewid in sentence,
Enprentith it weel in your remembraunce,
Be-war the serpent with his disseyuaunce,

The flessh, the world, your enmies, alle thre,
Thoruh ther treynys ye nat deceyued be.

Your beste sheeld to make resistence
Ageyn ther power sothli is meeknesse,
Your haberioun most myhti off diffence,
The feendis myht to venquysshe and oppresse,
Is to remembre deuoutli with lownesse,
How meekli Crist to paien our ransoun
Suffred on a crosse deth and passioun.

Wherbi men may, that prudent been & wis,
The ioies cleyme which been eternall,
And entre ageyn into Paradis,
Fro when[ne]s whilom Adam hadde a fall;
To which[e] place a-boue celestiall,
O Crist Iesu, so brynge us to that glory,
Which be thi deth hadde the victory!