Lydgate's Fall of Princes Edited by Dr. Henry Bergen ... presented to The Early English Text Society by The Carnegie Institution of Washington |
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Incipit Prologus libri octaui. |
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 | Lydgate's Fall of Princes |  |
Incipit Prologus libri octaui.
Bochas makth heer an exclamacioun:
Ageyn the Iewes gret vnkyndenesse
Rouht be the Romeyns, þer cite & þer toun,
Lich as the stori did heer-toforn expresse,—
Thei disparpiled to lyue in wrechchidnesse,
Bi Goddes hand punshed for ther outrage,
For euere [to] lyue in tribut & seruage.
Ageyn the Iewes gret vnkyndenesse
Rouht be the Romeyns, þer cite & þer toun,
Lich as the stori did heer-toforn expresse,—
Thei disparpiled to lyue in wrechchidnesse,
Bi Goddes hand punshed for ther outrage,
For euere [to] lyue in tribut & seruage.
Folwyng myn auctour, I caste for to touche
So as I can, rehersyng the maneere
How Iohn Bochas liggyng on his couche
Spak to hymsilff & saide as ye shal heere,
“Whi artow now so dul of look & cheere,
Lik a man, thi face berth witnesse,
That hym disposeth to lyue in idilnesse?”
So as I can, rehersyng the maneere
How Iohn Bochas liggyng on his couche
Spak to hymsilff & saide as ye shal heere,
“Whi artow now so dul of look & cheere,
Lik a man, thi face berth witnesse,
That hym disposeth to lyue in idilnesse?”
“Certis,” quod Iohn, “I tak[e] riht good keep,
Of myche trauaile that the outrage
Hath be long slombre cast me in a sleep,
My lymys feeble, crokid & feynt for age,
Cast in a dreed, for dulnesse of corage,
For to presume vpon me to take
Of the eihte book an eende for to make.”
Of myche trauaile that the outrage
Hath be long slombre cast me in a sleep,
My lymys feeble, crokid & feynt for age,
Cast in a dreed, for dulnesse of corage,
For to presume vpon me to take
Of the eihte book an eende for to make.”
“Thow wenist parauntir in thyn oppynyoun
Bi this labour to gete the a name,
For to reherse the sodeyn fallyng doun,
And be sum newe processe for to attame,
Of princes sittyng hih in the Hous of Fame,
In dyuers bookis, wher thou maist hem fynde,
Perpetuelly to putte thi name in mynde.
Bi this labour to gete the a name,
For to reherse the sodeyn fallyng doun,
And be sum newe processe for to attame,
Of princes sittyng hih in the Hous of Fame,
In dyuers bookis, wher thou maist hem fynde,
Perpetuelly to putte thi name in mynde.
824
Thi daies shorte putte the in gret[e] dreed
Of swich a labour to take the passage,
The mor feeble the slowere is thi speed,
Thi sihte dirkid; & thou art falle in age;
Among remembryng, thynk on this langage:
Whan men be buried lowe in the erthe doun,
Sauf of good lyuyng, farweel al guerdoun.
Of swich a labour to take the passage,
The mor feeble the slowere is thi speed,
Thi sihte dirkid; & thou art falle in age;
Among remembryng, thynk on this langage:
Whan men be buried lowe in the erthe doun,
Sauf of good lyuyng, farweel al guerdoun.
Worldli goodis shal passe, & that riht soone,
Tresour, kun[n]yng and al shal out of mynde;
Frenshep chaungeth as doth the cloudi moone;
At a streiht neede fewe freendis men do fynde.
But a good name whan it is lefft behynde
Passeth al richesse, yif it be weel disserued,
And al gold in coffre lokkid & conseruyd.
Tresour, kun[n]yng and al shal out of mynde;
Frenshep chaungeth as doth the cloudi moone;
At a streiht neede fewe freendis men do fynde.
But a good name whan it is lefft behynde
Passeth al richesse, yif it be weel disserued,
And al gold in coffre lokkid & conseruyd.
Of thi labour, the same shal wexe derk;
Bewar Bochas, & heerof tak good heed.”
“Slouthe spak to me, and bad me leue werk:
For a smal reward thou shalt haue for þi meede,
As be exaumple thou maist othir reede.”
This was the langage, I hadde therof routhe,
Atween Iohn Bochas and this ladi Slouthe.
Bewar Bochas, & heerof tak good heed.”
“Slouthe spak to me, and bad me leue werk:
For a smal reward thou shalt haue for þi meede,
As be exaumple thou maist othir reede.”
This was the langage, I hadde therof routhe,
Atween Iohn Bochas and this ladi Slouthe.
Bochas astoned, gan doun his hed enclyne,
Vpon his pilwe lay hangyng in a traunce,
Stoode in gret doute, koude nat determyne,
Lik a man hangyng in ballaunce,
To what parti he sholde his penne auaunce
To proceede as he vndirtook,
Or leue the labour of his eihte book.
Vpon his pilwe lay hangyng in a traunce,
Stoode in gret doute, koude nat determyne,
Lik a man hangyng in ballaunce,
To what parti he sholde his penne auaunce
To proceede as he vndirtook,
Or leue the labour of his eihte book.
Atwix[e] tweyne abidyng thus a while,
What was to doone in doute he gan fleete,
Halff withynne & half ouer the stile,
Koude nat discerne to hym what was most meete,
Til Fraunceis Petrak, the laureat poete,
Crownid with laurer, grace was his gide,
Cam and set hym doun bi his beddis side.
What was to doone in doute he gan fleete,
Halff withynne & half ouer the stile,
Koude nat discerne to hym what was most meete,
Til Fraunceis Petrak, the laureat poete,
Crownid with laurer, grace was his gide,
Cam and set hym doun bi his beddis side.
825
And as Bochas out of his slombre abraide
And gan adawen sumwhat of his cheere,
And sauh Petrak, lowli to hym he saide:
“Wolkome maister, crownid with laureer,
Which han Itaille lik a sunne cleer
With poetrie, pleynli to descryue,
Most soueraynli enlumyned bi your lyue,—
And gan adawen sumwhat of his cheere,
And sauh Petrak, lowli to hym he saide:
“Wolkome maister, crownid with laureer,
Which han Itaille lik a sunne cleer
With poetrie, pleynli to descryue,
Most soueraynli enlumyned bi your lyue,—
I haue desired, as it is weel kouth,
Of riht hool herte be humble attendaunce,
To doon you worshep fro my tendre youth,
And so shal euere, void of al variaunce,
Duryng my lyff; for treuli in substaunce
Ye haue been lanterne, liht and direccioun
Ay to supporte myn ocupacioun,
Of riht hool herte be humble attendaunce,
To doon you worshep fro my tendre youth,
And so shal euere, void of al variaunce,
Duryng my lyff; for treuli in substaunce
Ye haue been lanterne, liht and direccioun
Ay to supporte myn ocupacioun,
As in writyng bookis to compile,
Cheeff exaumplaire to my gret auauntage,
To refourme the rudnesse of my stile
With aureat colours of your fressh langage.
But now fordullid be impotence of age,
Of decrepitus markid with many a signe,
My labour up of writyng I resigne.
Cheeff exaumplaire to my gret auauntage,
To refourme the rudnesse of my stile
With aureat colours of your fressh langage.
But now fordullid be impotence of age,
Of decrepitus markid with many a signe,
My labour up of writyng I resigne.
I cast[e] me nat ferther to proceede,
Stonde at abay fordryue with werynesse.”
Quod Franseis Petrak, “leese nat thus thi meede:
Yif men no cause to reporte nor expresse,
In thi laste age thou hast founde a maistresse
Which hath the bridled in sooth (& þat is routhe)
And halt thi rene, and she is callid Slouthe.
Stonde at abay fordryue with werynesse.”
Quod Franseis Petrak, “leese nat thus thi meede:
Yif men no cause to reporte nor expresse,
In thi laste age thou hast founde a maistresse
Which hath the bridled in sooth (& þat is routhe)
And halt thi rene, and she is callid Slouthe.
An euident tokne of froward slogardie,
Vpon thi bed thi lymes so to dresse.
Ris up! for shame! for I can weel espie,
Folk that can grone & feele no seeknesse,
Ther chaumbirleyn is callid Idilnesse,
Which leith thi pilwe at euen & at morwe,—
Void hir fro the, and let hir go with sorwe!
Vpon thi bed thi lymes so to dresse.
Ris up! for shame! for I can weel espie,
Folk that can grone & feele no seeknesse,
Ther chaumbirleyn is callid Idilnesse,
Which leith thi pilwe at euen & at morwe,—
Void hir fro the, and let hir go with sorwe!
826
To al vertu most froward & contrarye
Is Idilnesse heer in this present lyff,
Which hath the drawe awey fro thi librarie,
Wil the nat suffre to be contemplatiff;
For hir condicioun is to holde striff
With euery vertuous occupacioun,
Which men sholde voide of wisdam & resoun.
Is Idilnesse heer in this present lyff,
Which hath the drawe awey fro thi librarie,
Wil the nat suffre to be contemplatiff;
For hir condicioun is to holde striff
With euery vertuous occupacioun,
Which men sholde voide of wisdam & resoun.
In this mateer what sholde I longe tarye?—
Leff thi slombre and up thyn eyen dresse!
The book I-maad of lyff[e] solitarye,
Remembre theron, the which in sekirnesse
Techeth the weie of vertuous besynesse,
Bi and bi, who list reede eueri lyne,
Of contemplacioun moral and dyuyne.
Leff thi slombre and up thyn eyen dresse!
The book I-maad of lyff[e] solitarye,
Remembre theron, the which in sekirnesse
Techeth the weie of vertuous besynesse,
Bi and bi, who list reede eueri lyne,
Of contemplacioun moral and dyuyne.
As I seide erst, yit lefft[e] up thi look,
Forsak thi bed, rys up anon, for shame!
Woldestow reste now on thyn seuent book,
And leue the eihte? in sooth thou art to blame!
Proceede forth and gete thi-silf a name.
And with o thyng do thi-silf conforte:
As thou disseruest, men aftir shal reporte.
Forsak thi bed, rys up anon, for shame!
Woldestow reste now on thyn seuent book,
And leue the eihte? in sooth thou art to blame!
Proceede forth and gete thi-silf a name.
And with o thyng do thi-silf conforte:
As thou disseruest, men aftir shal reporte.
Maak a comparisou[n] tween dirknesse & liht,
Tween Idilnesse and Occupacioun,
Tween faire daies and the cloudi niht,
Tween a coward prowesse and hih renoun,
Tween vertuous spech and fals detraccioun;
And to conclude, all vices to represse,
Contrarye to slouthe is vertuous besynesse.
Tween Idilnesse and Occupacioun,
Tween faire daies and the cloudi niht,
Tween a coward prowesse and hih renoun,
Tween vertuous spech and fals detraccioun;
And to conclude, all vices to represse,
Contrarye to slouthe is vertuous besynesse.
Vertuous besynesse, O Bochas, tak good heed,
Renveth alle thynges off old antiquite,
Maketh men to lyuen aftir thei be ded,
Remembreth the noblesse of many gret cite;
And ne wer writers, al wer goon, parde.
Wherfor, Bochas, sith thou art nih the lond,
Suffre nat thi ship to stumble on no sond.
Renveth alle thynges off old antiquite,
Maketh men to lyuen aftir thei be ded,
Remembreth the noblesse of many gret cite;
And ne wer writers, al wer goon, parde.
Wherfor, Bochas, sith thou art nih the lond,
Suffre nat thi ship to stumble on no sond.
827
I meene as thus: the shipp of thi trauaille,
Which hath passid the se of bookis seuene.
Cast nat anker til thou ha good ryuaille!
Lat no tempest of thundir, reyn nor leuene,
Nor no wyndis of the cloudi heuene,
Nor no fals ianglyng of demeres that wil blyue
Depraue thi labour, let thi shipp taryue.
Which hath passid the se of bookis seuene.
Cast nat anker til thou ha good ryuaille!
Lat no tempest of thundir, reyn nor leuene,
Nor no wyndis of the cloudi heuene,
Nor no fals ianglyng of demeres that wil blyue
Depraue thi labour, let thi shipp taryue.
Haste on thi way, lat Grace crosse þi saille,
Fall on no sond of wilful necligence,
Lat good[e] will be cheef of thi counsaille,
To guye thi rother set enteer dilligence;
Yif vitaille faille & wyn to thi dispense,
Yit at the laste, thynk, for thi socour
Sum roial prince shal quyte thi labour.
Fall on no sond of wilful necligence,
Lat good[e] will be cheef of thi counsaille,
To guye thi rother set enteer dilligence;
Yif vitaille faille & wyn to thi dispense,
Yit at the laste, thynk, for thi socour
Sum roial prince shal quyte thi labour.
Thynk, be writyng auctours did þer peyne
To yiue princis ther komendaciouns,
To Remus, Romulus callid foundours tweyne
Of Rome toun; & of too Scipiouns
Thei wrot the knihthod, prudence of too Catouns,
Of Iulius, Pompeye & Hanybal eek also,
Bexaumple of whom looke that thou so do.
To yiue princis ther komendaciouns,
To Remus, Romulus callid foundours tweyne
Of Rome toun; & of too Scipiouns
Thei wrot the knihthod, prudence of too Catouns,
Of Iulius, Pompeye & Hanybal eek also,
Bexaumple of whom looke that thou so do.
Of prophetis thei wrot the prophecies
And the noblesse of olde Moises,
Of poetis the laureat poesies,
The force of Samson, the strengthe of Hercules;
Of two Grekis, Pirrus and Achilles,
Bi ther writyng—bookis sey the same—
Into this day endureth yit the name.
And the noblesse of olde Moises,
Of poetis the laureat poesies,
The force of Samson, the strengthe of Hercules;
Of two Grekis, Pirrus and Achilles,
Bi ther writyng—bookis sey the same—
Into this day endureth yit the name.
And he that can and ceseth for to write
Notable exaumples of our predecessours,
Of envie men wil hym atwite,
That he in gardyns leet pershe þe holsum flours
In sondry caas that myhte do gret socours.
Laboure for othir, & spare nat thi trauaille;
For vertuous labour geyn slouthe mai most auaille.
Notable exaumples of our predecessours,
Of envie men wil hym atwite,
That he in gardyns leet pershe þe holsum flours
In sondry caas that myhte do gret socours.
Laboure for othir, & spare nat thi trauaille;
For vertuous labour geyn slouthe mai most auaille.
828
A thyng remembrid of antiquite,
Is whan ther is set a fair image
Of a prince of hih or louh degre;
Or of a persone a preent of his visage
Gladeth his freend, quyketh his corage;
And semblabli bexaumple men may fynde
Thynges forgetyn be writyng come to mynde.
Is whan ther is set a fair image
Of a prince of hih or louh degre;
Or of a persone a preent of his visage
Gladeth his freend, quyketh his corage;
And semblabli bexaumple men may fynde
Thynges forgetyn be writyng come to mynde.
And for to make our names perdurable,
And our merites to putten in memorie,
Vices teschewe, in vertu to be stable,
That laboure may of slouthe haue the victorie,
To cleyme a see in the heuenli consistorie—
Despiht of idilnesse & foorthryng of vertu—
Fyn of our labour be youe to Crist Iesu.”
And our merites to putten in memorie,
Vices teschewe, in vertu to be stable,
That laboure may of slouthe haue the victorie,
To cleyme a see in the heuenli consistorie—
Despiht of idilnesse & foorthryng of vertu—
Fyn of our labour be youe to Crist Iesu.”
Whan Petrak hadde rehersid this lessoun
In rebukyng of vicious idilnesse,
Bochas supprised and meued of resoun,
Roos from his couche, gan his penne dresse.
Will ouercam thympotent feeblesse
Of crokid age, that Bochas vndirtook
For tacomplisshe up his eihte book.
In rebukyng of vicious idilnesse,
Bochas supprised and meued of resoun,
Roos from his couche, gan his penne dresse.
Will ouercam thympotent feeblesse
Of crokid age, that Bochas vndirtook
For tacomplisshe up his eihte book.
I folwyng aftir, fordullid with rudnesse,
Mor than thre score yeeris set my date,
Lust of youthe passid [with] his fresshnesse;
Colours of rethorik to helpe me translate
Wer fadid awey: I was born in Lidgate,
Wher Bachus licour doth ful scarsli fleete,
My drie soule for to dewe & weete.
Mor than thre score yeeris set my date,
Lust of youthe passid [with] his fresshnesse;
Colours of rethorik to helpe me translate
Wer fadid awey: I was born in Lidgate,
Wher Bachus licour doth ful scarsli fleete,
My drie soule for to dewe & weete.
Thouh pallid age hath fordullid me,
Tremblyng ioyntes let myn hand to write,
And fro me take al the subtilite
Of corious makyng in Inglissh to endite,—
Yit in this labour treuli me taquite
I shal proceede, as it is to me dewe,
In thes too bookis Bochas for to sewe.
Tremblyng ioyntes let myn hand to write,
And fro me take al the subtilite
Of corious makyng in Inglissh to endite,—
Yit in this labour treuli me taquite
I shal proceede, as it is to me dewe,
In thes too bookis Bochas for to sewe.
Explicit prologus libri Octaui.
829
Incipit liber octauus.
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