layde That to my syster ne to my brother In all this worlde ne to none other ye durst telle a pryuete So well my father as to me For thy my father I you praye Ne casteth nought that hert away For I am she that wolde kepe your honour and with that to wepe Her eie may not be forbore She wyssheth for to ben vnbore Er that her father so mystryst To tellen her of that he wyst And euer amonge mercy she cryed That he ne shulde his counscile hyde From her that so wolde hym good And was so nygh flesshe and bloud So that with wepynge at last His chere vpon his childe he caste And sorowfully to that she prayde He tolde his tale and thus he sayde The sorowe doughter which I make Is not all onely for my sake But for the bothe and for you all For suche a chaunce is me befalle That I shall er this thyrde day Lese all that euer I lese may My lyfe and all my good therto Therfore it is I sorowe so what is the cause alas quod she My father that ye shulden be Dead and distroyed in suche a wise And he began the poyntes deuyse which as the kyng tolde him by mouth And sayd her playnly that he couthe Answere to no poynt of this And she that hereth howe it is Her counsayle yafe and sayd tho My father syn it is so That ye can se none other weye But that ye must nedes deye I wolde pray you of o thynge Lette me go with you to the kynge And ye shall make hym vnderstonde Howe ye my wyttes for to fonde Haue layde your answere vpon me And telleth hym in suche degre Vpon my worde ye wol abyde To lyfe or deth what so betyde For yet perchaunce I may purchace with some good word the kynges grace your lyfe and eke your good to saue For ofte shall a woman haue Thynge whiche a man may not areche The fader herd his doughters speche And thought there was no reason in And sawe his owne lyfe to wynne He couthe done hym selfe no cure So better he thought in auenture To put his lyfe and all his good That in the maner as it stode His lyfe incerteyne for to lese And thus thynkende he gan to chese To do the counseyle of this mayde And toke the purpose whiche she sayd The day was come forth they gone Vnto the courte they come anone where as the kynge in his iugement was sette and hath this knyght assent Arrayed in her beste wyse This mayden with her wordes wyse Her father ledde by the honde In to the place where he fonde The kynge with other which he wolde And to the kynge knelende he tolde As he enfourmed was tofore And prayeth the kyng that he therfore His doughters wordes wolde take And sayth that he woll vndertake Vpon her wordes for to stende Tho was ther great meruaile on hoÌ„de That he whiche was so wyse a knyght His lyfe vpon so yonge a wyght Besette wolde in ieopardye And many it helden for folye But at laste neuertheles The kynge commaundeth ben in peace And to this mayde he cast his chere And sayde he wolde her tale here And badde her speke and she began My lyege lorde so as I can Quod she the poyntes which I herde They shall of reason ben answerde The fyrst I vnderstonde is this what thynge of all the worlde it is which men most helpe hath lest nede My lyege lorde this wolde I rede The erthe it is whiche euermo with mannes labour is bego As well in wynter as in Maye The mannes honde doth what he may To helpe it forth and make it ryche And for thy men it delue and dyche And eren it with strength of plough where it hath of hym selfe inough So that his nede is at leste For euery man byrde and beast Of floure and grasse and rote rynde And euery thynge by wey of kynde Shall sterue and erthe it shall become As it was out of erthe nome It shall to erthe tourne ageyne And thus I may by reason seyne That therthe is most nedeles And most men helpe it netheles So that my lorde touchande of this I haue answerde howe that it is ¶ That other poynt I vnderstode whiche most is worth and most is good And costeth leest a man to kepe My lorde if ye woll take kepe I saye it is Humilite Through whiche the hygh Trinite As for deserte of pure loue Vnto Marye from aboue Of that he knewe her humble entent His owne sonne adowne he sent Aboue all other and her he chese For that vertu which that bodeth pes So that I may by reason calle Humilite moost worthe of all And lest it costeth to maynteyne In all the worlde as it is seyne For who that hath huÌ„blesse on honde He bryngeth no werres in to londe For he desyreth for the best To serten euery man in reste ¶ Thus with your hygh reuerence Me thynketh that this euydence As to this poynt is suffisaunt And touchende of the remenaunt whiche is the thyrde of your askynges what lest is worth of all thynges And costeth most I telle it Pryde whiche may not in the heuen abyde For Lucifer with them that felle Bare Pryde with hym in to helle There was pryde of to great cost whan he for pryde hath heuen loste And after that in Paradyse Adam for pryde lost his pryce In myddell erth And eke also Pryde is the cause of all wo That all the worlde ne may suffise To stanche of pride the reprise Pryde is the heed of all synne whiche wasteth all and may not wynne Pryde is of euery mysse the prycke Pryde is the worste of all wycke And costeth moost and lest is worth In place where he hath his forth Thus haue I sayde that I woll say Of myn answere and to you pray My lyege lorde of your offyce That ye suche grace and suche iustice Ordeyne for my father here That after this when men it here The worlde therof may speake good ¶ The kyng which reason vnderstode And hath all herde howe she hath said was inly gladde and so well payde That all his wrath is ouer go And he beganne to loke tho Vpon this mayden in the face In whiche he fonde so mochell grace That all his price on her he leyde In audience and thus he sayde My fayre mayden well ye be Of thyn answere and eke of the Me lyketh well and as thou wylte Forâ—eue be thy father gylte And if thou were of suche lygnage That thou to me were of parage And that thy father were a pere As he is nowe a bachylere So syker as I haue a lyfe Thou shuldest than be my wyfe But this I saye netheles That I woll shape thyn encrease what worldes good that thou wolte craue Axe of mi yeft thou shalt haue And she the kynge with wordes wise Knelynge thanketh in this wyse My lyege lorde god mote
and cloth And saufely tournen home ageyne without losse of any greyne Through charite thus he dispendeth His good wherof he amendeth The poore people and countreuayleth The harme that he hem so trauayleth And thus the wofull nyghtes sorowe To ioye is torned on the morowe All was thankynge all was blyssynge whiche erst was wepynge and cursynge These women gone home glad inough Echone for ioye on other lough And prayde for this lordes hele whiche hath released the quarele And hath his owne wyll forsake In charite for goddes sake But nowe hereafter thou shalte here what god hath wrought in this matere As he that dothe all equyte To hym that wrought charite He was ayenewarde charitous And to pite he was pytous For it was neuer knowe yet That charite gothe vnaquyt The nyght whan he was layde to slepe The hygh god whiche wold hym kepe Saynt Peter saynt Poule hym sende By whom he wolde his lepre amende They two to hym slepende appere Fro god and sayd in this manere O Constantyn for thou hast serued Pyte thou hast pite deserued For thy thou shalte suche pite haue That god through pite woll the saue Thou shalte so double he le fynde Fyrste for thy bodelyche kynde And for thy wofull soule also Thou shalt be hole of both two And for thou shalte not the despeyre Thy lepre shall no more empeyre Tyll thou wylte sende thervpon Vnto the mount of Celyon where Syluester and his clergye To gyder dwellen in company For drede of the whiche many a day Hast ben a so to Christes lay And hast destroyed to mochel shame The prechours of his holy name But now thou hast somdele appesed Thy god and with good dede plesed That thou thy pyte hast bywaryd Vpon the blod which thou hast spared For thy to thy saluacyon Thou shalt haue Informacyon Suche as Syluester shall the teche The nedeth of none other leche This Emperour whiche all this herde Graunt mercy lorde he answerde I woll do so as ye me say But of one thynge I wold pray what shall I telle vnto Syluester Of your name or of your ester And they hym tolde what they hyght And forth with all out of his syght They passen vp in to the heuen And be awoke out of his sweuen And clepeth and men come anone And tolde his dreme and therupon In suche a wyse as he hem telleth The mount where Syluester dwelleth They haue in all haste sought And foundeÌ„ he was with heÌ„ brought To themperour whiche to hym tolde His sweuen and elles what he wolde And whaÌ„ Siluester hath herd the king He was ryght ioyfull of this thyng And hym began with all his witte To techen vpon holy wrytte Fyrst howe mankynde was forlore And howe the hygh god therfore His sonne send from aboue whiche borne was for mans loue And after of his owne choys He toke his deth vpon the croys And how in graue he was beloke And howe that he hath helle broke And toke hem out that were hym leue And for to make vs full beleue That he was very goddes sonne Ayene the kynde of mans wonne Frodeth he rose the thyrde day And whan he wolde as he well may He styghe vp to his father euen with flesshe and bloudin to the heuen And ryght so in the same forme In flesshe and bloud he shall reforme whan tyme cometh the quycke dede At thylke wofull day of drede where euery man shall take his dome As well the mayster as the grome The myghty kynges retenue That day may stande of no value with worldly strength to defende For euery man mote than entende To stande vpon his owne dedes And â—â—ue all other mennes nedes That day may no counsayle auayle The piâ—dour and the plee shall fayle 〈◊〉 â—entence of that ylke daye 〈◊〉 none appele sette in delay â—â—ere may no golde the iudge plye â—â—at bene shall the soth trie 〈◊〉 setten euery man vpryght As well the plowe man as the knyghte The lâ—nde man the great clerke Shall stonde vpon his owne werke 〈◊〉 suche as he is founde tho Sâ—che shall he be for euermo There may no peyne be released There may no ioye ben encreased 〈◊〉 endeles as they haue do He shall receyue one of two ¶ Thus Syluestre with his sawe The grounde of all the newe lawe with great deuocion he preacheth Fâ—â— poynt to point and plainly techeth Vnto this heathen emperour And sayth the hygh creatour Hath vndersonge his charite Of that he wrought suche pite whan he the chyldren had on honde Thus whan this lord hath vnderstoÌ„d Of all this thynge howe that it ferde Vnto Syluestre he than answerde with all his holle herte and seyth That he is redy to the feyth And so the vessell whiche for bloud was made Syluestre there it stode with cleane water of the welle In all haste he lette do felle And sette Constantyne therinne All naked vp to the chynne And in the whyle it was begonne A lyght as though it were a sonne Fro heuen in to the place come where that he toke his christendome And euer amonge the holy tales Lyke as they weren fysshes scales They fellen from hym nowe and efte Tyll that there was nothynge belefte Of all this great maladye For he that wolde hym purifye The hygh god hath made hym clene So that there lefte nothynge sene He hath hym clensed bothe two The body and the soule also Tho knewe this emperour in dede That Christes feyth was for to drede And sende anone his letters out And lette do cryen all aboute Vpon peyne of deth that no maÌ„ weyue That he baptysme ne receyue After his mother quene Eleyne He sende and so betwene hem tweyne They treaten that the citie all was christned and she forth with all This emperour which hele hath fouÌ„d within Rome anone lette founde Two churches whiche he dyd make For Peter and for Poules sake Of whome he hadde a vysion And yafe therto possessyon Of lordeshyppe and of worldes good But howe so that his wylle was good Towarde the Pope and his fraunchyse yet hath it proued otherwyse To se the worchynge of the dede For in cronyke thus I rede Anone as he hath made the yefte A voycee was herde on hygh the lefte Of whiche all Rome was adradde And sayd this day venym is shadde In holy churche of temporall whiche medleth with the spirituall And howe it stant of that degre yet maye a man the sothe se God may amende it whan he wylle I can therto none other skylle But for to go there I began Howe charite may helpe a man To bothe worldes I haue sayde And if thou haue an eare layde My sonne thou myght vnderstonde If charitie be take on honde There foloweth after mochel grace For thy if that thou wylt purchace Howe that thou myght enuy flee Acqueynt the with charite whiche is the vertue souerayne ¶ My father I shall do my peyne For this ensample whiche ye
shent Telle on further hast thou ben one Of hem that hath slouth begonne ¶ ye father ofte it hath ben so That whan I am my lady fro And thynke vntowarde her drawe Than cast I many a newe lawe And all the worlde tourne vp so downe And so recorde I my lesson And write in my memoriall what I to her telle shall Ryght all the matter of my tale But all nis worthe a nutte shale For whan I come there she is I haue it all foryete iwis Of that I thought for to telle I can not than vnnethes spelle That I wende alther best haue redde So sore of her I am adredde For as a man that sodeynly A goost beholdeth so fare I So that for feare I can nought gette My wyt but I my selfe foryete That I wote neuer what I am Ne whither I shall ne when I cam But mufe as be that were amased Lyche to the boke in whiche is rased The letter and may nothynge be radde So ben my wyttes ouerladde That what as euer I thought haue spoken It is out of myn herte stoken And stoÌ„de as who saith dombe deefe That all nys worth an iuye lefe Of that I wende well haue sayde And at laste I make abrayde Last vp myn heed and loke aboute Ryght as a man that were in doute And wote not where he shall become Thus am I ofte all ouercome There as I wende best to stonde But after whan I vnderstonde And am in other place alone I make many a wofull mone Vnto my selfe and speke so ¶ A foole where was thyne herte tho whan thou thy worthy lady sye were thou afered of her eie For of her bonde there is no drede So well I knowe her woman hede That in her is no more oultrage Than in a childe of thre yere age why hast thou drede of so good one whom all vertue hath begone That in her is no violence But goodlyhede and innocence without spotte of any blame A nyce herte fye for shame A cowarde herte of loue vnlered wherof arte thou so sore afered That thou thy tonge suffrest frese And wolte thy good wordes lese whan thou hast fonde tyme and space Howe sholdest thou deserue grace when thou thy selfe darst aske none But all thou hast foryete anone And thus dispute in loues lore But helpe ne fynde I nought the more But stomble vpon myn owne treyne And make an ekynge of my peyne For euer whan I thynke amonge Howe all is on my selfe alonge I saye O foole of all fooles Thou farest as he betwene two stoles That wolde sytte and goth to grounde It was ne neuer shall be founde Betwene Foryettylnes and Drede That man shulde any cause spede And thus myn holy father dere Towarde my selfe as ye may here I pleyne of my foryettylnes But elles all the busynesse That may be take of mans thought My hert taketh and is through sought To thynken euer vpon that swete withoutâ—n slouthe I you byhete For what so falle or wele or wo That thought foryete I neuermo wâ—â—â—e so I laugh or so I loure Not halfe a mynute of an houre Ne myght I lette out of my mynde But if I thought vpon that hende Therof me shall no slouth lette Tyll death out of this worlde me fette All though I had on suche a rynge As Moyses through his enchauntyng Sometyme in Ethyope made whan that he Tharbys wedded had whiche rynge bare of obliuion The name and that was by reason That where on a fynger it sate Anone his loue he so foryate As though he had it neuer knowe And so it felle that ilke throwe whan Tharbis had it on her honde No knowlegynge of hym she fonde But all was cleane out of memorie As men may rede in his storye And thus he went quyte awaye That neuer after thylke day She thought that there was suche one All was foryete and ouergone But in good feyth so may not I For she is euer faste by So nigh that she myn herte toucheth That for no thing that slouth voucheth I may foryete her lefe ne loth For ouer all where as she goth Myn herte foloweth her aboute Thus may I say withouten doute For bet for wers for ought for nought She passeth neuer fro my thought But whan I am there as she is Myn hert as I you sayde er this Somtyme of her is sore adradde And sometyme is ouergladde All out of reule and out of space For whan I se her goodly face And thynke vpon her hygh prys As though I were in Paradys I am so rauysshed of the syght That speke vnto her I ne myght As for the tyme though I wolde For I ne may my wytte vnfolde To fynde o worde of that I mene But it is all foryete cleane And though I stonde there a myle All is foryete for the whyle A tonge I haue / and wordes none And thus I stonde and thynke alone Of thynge that helpeth ofte nought But what I had afore thought To speake whan I come there It is foryete as nought ne were And stonde amased and assoted That of no thyng which I haue noted I can not than a note synge But all is out of knowlegynge Thus what for ioy and what for drede All is foryeten at nede So that my father of this slouth I haue you sayde the playne trouth ye may it as ye lyste redresse For thus stant my foryetylnesse And eke my pusyllanymite Say nowe forth what ye lyste to me For I wol onely do by you ¶ My son I haue wel herd how thou Hast sayd and that thou must amende For loue his grace wol not sende To that man which dare aske none For this we knowen euerychone A mans thought withoute speche God wote and yet that men beseche His wil is for withoute bedis He dothe his grace in fewe stedis And what man that foyete hym selue Amonge a thousand be not twelue That wol hym take in remembraunce But let hym falle and take his chaunce For thy pul vp a besy herte My sonne and let no thynge asterte Of loue fro thy besynesse For touchynge of foryetylnesse whiche many a loue hath set behynde A tale of gret ensample I fynde wherof it is pyte to wyte In the maner as it is wryte ☞ Hic in amoris causa contra obliuiosos ponit Confessor exemplum qualiter Demophon versus bellum Troianum itinerando a Philli de Rodipea regina non tantum in hospicium / sed etlam in amorem gaudio magno susceptus eft qui postea ab ipsa Troie descendens rediturum infra certum tempus fidelissime se compromisit sed quia huiusmodi promissiones diem statutum post modum oblitus est Phillis obliuionem Demephontis lacrimis primo deplangens / tandem cordula collo suo cerculigata se mortuaÌ„ suspedit ⧠Kyng DemophoÌ„ whaÌ„ he by ship To troye ward with felauship Seylend goth vpon his weye It hapneth hym at Rodepeye As Eolus
and of fals enuye Full ofte medled with disease But thylke loue is well at ease whiche sette is vpon mariage For that dare shewen the vysage In alle places openly A great meruayle it is for thy Howe that a mayde woll lette That she her tyme ne besette To haste vnto thylke feste wherof the loue is all honeste Men may recouer losse of good But so wyse a man yet neuer stode whiche may recouer tyme ylore So may a mayden well therfore Ensample take of that she straungeth Her loue longe or that she chaungeth Her herte vpon her lustes grene To mariage as it is sene For thus a yere two or thre She lefte er that she wedded be whyle she the charge myght beare Of children whiche the worlde forbere Ne may but if it shulde fayle But what mayden that in her spousaile wolde tarie whan she take may She shall perchaunce an other day Be let whan that her leuest were wherof a tale vnto thyn eare whiche is culpable vpon this dede I thynke telle of that I rede ☞ Hic ponit exemplum super eodem Et narrat de filia Iepte / que cum ex sui patris voio in holocaustum deo occidi et offerri deberet ipsa pro eo / quod virgo fuit et prolem ad augmentationem populi dei nondum genuisset .xl. dierum spacium vt cum suis sodalibus virginibus suam defleret virginitatem priusquam moreretur / in exemplum asiorum a patre postulauit ¶ Amonge the iewes as men tolde There was whylom by dayes olde A noble duke whiche Iepte hyght And felle he shulde go to fyght Agayne Amon the cruell kynge And for to speke vpon this thynge within his herte he made a vowe To god and sayd A lorde if thou wolte graunt vnto thy man victorie I shall in token of thy memorie The fyrste lyfe that I may se Of man or woman where it be Anone as I come home ageyne To the whiche arte god souereyne Sleen in thy name and sacrifie And thus with his chiualrie He goth hym forth so as he shulde And wanne all that he wynne wolde And ouercame his fomen alle May no man knowe that shall falle This duke a lusty doughter had And fame whiche the worldes sprad Hath brought vnto this ladyes eare Howe that her father hath do there She wayteth vpon his comynge with daunsynge and with carolynge As she that wolde be tofore All other and so she was therfore In masphat at her fathers gate The fyrst and whan he cometh ther at And sygh his doughter he to brayde His clothes and wepende he sayde * O myghty god amonge vs here Nowe wote I that in no manere This worldes ioy may be playne I had all that I couth sayne Ayene my fomen by thy grace So whan I came towarde this place There was no gladder man than I But nowe my lorde all sodeynly My ioye is tourned in to sorowe For I my doughter shall to morowe To hewe and brenne in thy seruice To louynge of thy sacrifice Through myn auowe so as it is The mayden whan she wyst of this And sawe the sorowe her fatheer made So as she may with wordes glade Comforted hym and had hym holde His couenant as he was beholde Towardes god as he behyght But netheles his herte aflyght Of that she sawe her deathe comende And than vnto the grounde knelende Tofore her father she is falle And sayth so as it is falle Vpon this poynt that she shall deye Of one thinge fyrst she wolde hym prey That forty dayes of respyte He wolde hir graunt vpon this plyght That she the whyle may bewepe Her maydenhode whiche she to kepe So longe hath kept and not be set wherof her lusty youth is lette That she no children hath forth drawe In mariage after the lawe So that the people is not encreased But that it myght be released That she her tyme hath lore so She wolde by his leue go with other maydens to complayne And afterwarde vnto the payne Of death she wolde come ageyne The father herde his doughter seyne And thervpon of one assent The maydens were anone assent That shulden with this mayden wende So for to speake vnto this ende They gone the downes and the dales with wepynge and with wofull tales And euery wyght her maydenhede Complayneth vpon thilke nede That she no children hadde bore wherof she hath her youth lore whiche neuer she recouer maye For so felle that her laste daye was come in whiche she shulde take Her dethe whiche she may not forsake Lo thus she deyde a wofull mayde For thylke cause whiche I sayde As thou hast vnderstonde aboue ¶ My father as towarde the loue Of maydens for to telle trouthe ye haue thylke vice of slouthe Me thinketh ryght woÌ„der wel declared That ye the women haue not spared Of hem that taryen so behynde But yet it falleth in my mynde Towarde the men howe that ye speke Of hem that woll no trauayle seke In cause of loue vpon deserte To speke in wordes so couerte I not what trauayle that ye ment ¶ My sonne and after myn entent I woll the telle what I thought Howe whylom men her loues boughte Through great trauaile in strange loÌ„des where that they wrought with her hondes Of armes many a worthy dede In sondry places as men may rede QueÌ„ ê“bat armoruÌ„ ê“bitas Venus ap ê“bat er queÌ„ Torpor habet reprobum reprobat illa uiruÌ„ Vecors segnicies insignia nescit amoris Nam piger ad brauium tardius ipse uenit ☞ Hic loquitur quod in amoris causa militie probitas ad armorum laboris exercitium nullatenus torpescat ¶ That euery loue of pure kynde Is fyrst forth drawe well I fynde But nethelesse yet ouer this Deserte dothe so that it is The rather had in many place For thy who secheth loues grace where that these worthy women are He may not than hym selue spare Vpon his trauayle for to serue wherof that he may thanke deserue where as these men of armes be Sometyme ouer the great see So that by londe and eke by ship He mote trauayle for worshyp And make many hasty rodes Somtime in Pruys somtyme in Rodes And some tyme in to Tartarye So that these herauldes on hym crie Vaylant vaylant lo where he goth And than he yeueth hem golde cloth So that his fame myght sprynge And to his ladyes eare brynge Some tydynge of his worthynesse So that she myght of his prowesse Of that she herde men recorde The better vnto his loue accorde And daunger put out of her mood whan all men recorden good And that she wote well for her sake That be no trauayle woll forsake My â—â—â—ne of this trauayle I mene Now shryue the for it shall be sene If thou arte ydell in this cas ¶ My father ye and euer was For as me thynketh truely That euery man doth more than I As of this poynt
was a sory felaushyp For this thou myght wel vnderstonde That man may welle not longe stonde whiche is wine dronke of co men vse For he hath lore the vertues wherof reason shuld hym doth And that was sen vpon hem both Men seyn there his no euydence wherof to knowe a difference Betwene the dronken and the wode For they be neuer nother good For where that wyne doth wyt a weye wysdome hath lost the ryght weye That he no maner vyce dredeth No more than a blynd man thredeth His nedel by the sonne lyght No more is reason than of myght whan be with dronkeshyp is blent And in this poynt they weren shent This Galba both and eke Vytelle Vpon the cause as I shall tell wherof good is to take hede For they two through her dronkenhede Of witles excitation Oppressed all the nacion Of Spayne for all foule vsaunce whiche done was of continuaunce Of hem whiche all day dronke were There was no wyfe ne mayden there what so they were or fayre or foule whom they ne taken to defoule wherof the londe was often wo And eke in other thynges mo They wroughten many a sondry wroÌ„ge But howe so that the day be longe The derke nyght cometh at last God wolde nought they shulden last And shope the lawe in suche a wyse That they through dome to the Iuyse Bâ— damned for to be forlore But they that had be tofore Eâ—â—lyned to all dronkenesse Her ende than bare wytnesse For they in hope to asswage The peyne of dethe vpon the rage That they lasse shulden fele Of wyne let fyll full a meele And dronken tyll so was befell That they her strengthes losen all withouten wyt of ony brayne And thus they ben halfe deed slayne That hem ne greueth but a lite ¶ My sonne if thou be for to wite In ony poynt whiche I haue sayde wherof thy wyttes bene vnteyde I rede clepe hem home ageyne ¶ I shall do father as ye seyne Al 's ferforth as I may suffise But well I wote that in no wyse The dronkeshyp of loue aweye I may remue by no weye It stant nought vpon my fortune But if you lyst to coÌ„mune Of the seconde glotonye whiche cleped is delicacye wherof ye spake here to fore Beseche I wolde you therfore ¶ My sonne as of that ylke vice whiche of all other is the noryce And stant vpon the retenue Of Venus so as it is due The properte howe that it fareth The boke herafter nowe declareth Deliciae cum diuiciis sunt iura potentum In quibus orta Venus excitat ora gulae Non sunt deliciae tales que corpora pascunt Ex quibus impletus gaudia uenter agit Qui completus amor maiori munere gaudet Cum data deliciis mens in aman te fatur ☞ HIC tractat super illa specie gule que delicatia nuncupatur cuius mollicies volupiuose carni personis precipue potentibus queque compla centia corporaliter ministrat ¶ Of this chapter in whiche we trete There is yet one of suche dyete To whiche no pore may attayne For all is past as payndemayne And sondry wyne and sondry drynke wherof that he woll eate and drynke His cookes ben for hym affayted So that his body is awayted That hym shall lacke no delyte Al 's ferforth as his appetite Suffyseth to the meates hote wherof the lusty vice is hote Of Gule the delycacye whiche all the holle progenye Of lusty folke hath vndertake To fede whyle that he may take Rychesse wherof to be founde Of abstinence he wote no bounde To what profyte it shulde serue And yet phisyke of his conserue Maketh many a restrauracion Vnto his recreacion whiche wolde be to Venus lefe Thus for the poynt of his relefe The cooke whiche shal his meate aray But he the better his mouth assay His lordes thonke shall ofte lese Er he be serued to the chese For there may lacke not so lyte That he ne fyut anone a wyte But his lust be fully serued There hath no wight his thonke desued And yet for mans sustenaunce To kepe and holde in gouernance To hym that woll his hele gete Is none so good as comon mete For who that loketh on the bokes It seyth confection of Cookes A man hym shulde well auyse Howe he it toke and in what wyse For who that vseth that he knoweth Full selden sikenes on hym groweth And who that vseth metes straunge Though his nature empayre chaunge It is no wonder lyefe sonne whan that he doth ayene his wonne For in sikenes this I fynde Vsage is the seconde kynde In loue al 's well as other wey For as these holy bokes sey The bodely delyces all In euery poynt howe so they fall Vnto the soule done greuance And for to take in remembrance A tale accordant vnto this whiche of great vnderstanding is To mans soule reasonable I thynke tell and is no fable ¶ HIC PONIT EXEMPLVM contra iftos delicatos et narrat de diuite et Lazaro quorum gefta in euangelio Lucas euidentius describit ¶ Of Christis worde who wol it rede Howe that this vice is for to drede In theuangile it telleth pleyne whiche mote algate be certeyne For Christe hym selfe it bereth wytnesse And though the clerke and the clergesse In laten tonge it rede and synge yet for the more knowlechynge Of trouthe whiche is good to wite I shal declare as it is wriie In englyshe for thus it began ¶ Christe seith there was a ryche man A myghty lorde of great astate And he was eke so delycate Of his clothynge that euery day Of purpre and bysse he made hym gay And ete and dranke therto his fyll After the lustes of his wyll And he whiche all stode in delice And toke none hede of thilke vice And as it shulde so betyde A poure lazer vpon a tyde Came to the gate and axed mete But there myght he nothyng gete His deedly hungre for to staunche For he whiche had his full paunche Of all lustes at borde Ne deyneth not to speke a worde Onlyche a Cromme for to yeue wherof this poure myght leue Vpon the yefte of his almesse Thus lay this poure in great distresse A colde and hongred at the gate For whiche he myght go no gate So was he wofully besene And as these holy bokes seyn The houndes comen fro the haile where that this sycke man was falle And as he lay there for to deye The woundes of his maladye They lycken for to done hym ese But he was full of suche dysese That he may not the deth escape But as it was that tyme shape The sowle fro the body passeth And he whom nothynge ouerpasseth The hygh god vp to the heuen Hym toke where he hath set hym euen In Abrahams barme on hyghe where he the heuens ioye syghe And had all that he haue wold And fell as it befall shulde This ryche man the same throwe with sodeyn deth was
ire inimicitias ad mentem reducens issas vsque ad tempus vindic te vefut scriba demonis in cordis papiro commemorandas inserit ¶ Of wrathe yet there is an other whiche is to cheste his owne brother And is by name cleped hate That suffereth not within his gate That there come other loue or peace For he woll make no release Of no debate whiche is befalle Nowe speke if thou arte one of all That with this vice hath he witholde ¶ As yet for ought that ye me tolde My father I not what it is ¶ In good fayth sonne I trowe yis ¶ My father nay but ye me lere ¶ Nowe lyst my son thou shalt here Hate is a wrath not shewende But of longe tyme gatherende And dwelleth in the herte loken Tyll he see tyme to be wroken And than he sheweth his tempest More sodeyne than the wylde beast whiche wote nothynge what mercy is My sonne arte thou knowen of this ¶ My good father as I wene Nowe wote I somedele what ye mene But I dare saufely make an othe My lady was me neuer lothe I woll not swere netheles That I of bate am gylteles For whan I to my lady plye Fro day to day and mercy crye And she no mercy on me leyth But shorte wordes to me seyth Though I my lady loue algate Tho wordes mote I nedes hate And wolde they were all dispent Or so ferre out of londe went That I neuer after shulde hem here And yet loue I my lady dere Thus is there hate as ye may se Betwene my ladyes worde and me The worde I hate and her I loue what so shall me betyde of loue But furthermore I woll me shryue That I haue hated all my lyue These ianglers whiche of her enuye Ben euer redy for to lye For with her false compassement Full often they haue made me shent And hyndred me full ofte tyme whan they no cause wyste byme But onlyche of her owne thought And thus full ofte haue I bought The lye and dronke not of the wyne I wolde her happe were suche as myne For howe so that I be nowe shriue To hem may I nought foryeue Tylle I se hem at debate with loue and with myn estate They myghten by her owne deme And loke how wel it shuld hem queme To hyndre a man that loueth sore And thus I hate hem euermore Tyl loue on hem wold done his wreche For that shall I alway beseche Vnto the myghty Cupydo That he so mochel wolde do So as he is of loue a god To smyte hem with the same rod with whiche I am of loue smyten So that they myght knowe and wyten Howe byndrynge is a wofull peyne To hym that loue wold atteyne Thus euer on hem I wayte and hope Tyll I may sene hem lepe a lope And halten on the same sore whiche I do nowe for euermore I wolde than do my myght So for to stonden in her lyghte That they ne shulden haue awey To that they wolden put awey I wolde hem put out of the stede Fro loue ryght as they me dede with that they speke of me by mouthe So wolde I do if that I couth Of hem and thus so god me saue Is all the hate that I haue Towarde the ianglers euery dele I wolde all other ferde wele Thus haue I father sayd my wylle Say forth nowe for I am stylle ¶ My sonne of that thou hast me sayd I holde me nought fully payde That thou wolte haten any man To that accorden I ne can Though he haue hyndred the tofore But this I telle the therfore Thou myght vpon my benyson well haten the condicion Of the ianglers as thou me toldest But furthermore of that thou woldest Hem byndre in any other wyse Suche hate is euer to despyse For thy my sonne I wolde the rede That thou drawe in by frendely hede That thou ne myght not do by hate So myght thou gete loue algate And sette the my sonne in rest For thou shalte fynde it for the best And ouer this so as I dare I rede that thou be ryght ware Of other mens hate about whiche euery wyse man shulde dout For hate is euer vpon awayte And as the fyssher on his bayte Sleeth whan he seeth the fysshes faste So whan he seeth tyme at last That he may worche an other wo Shall no man tourne hym therfro That hate nyll his felony Fulfyll and feyne companye yet netheles for false semblaunt Is towarde hym of couenaunt witholde so that vnder bothe The preuy wrath can hym cloth That he shall seme a great beleue But ware the well that thou ne leue All that thou seest afore thyn eie Soas the Gregoys whylom sye The boke of Troye who so rede There may he fynde ensample in dede ¶ Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra illos / qui cuÌ„ ire sue odium aperte vindicare non possint ficta dissimulatione vindictam subdole assequentur Et narrat quod cum Palamides princeps Grecorum in obsidione Troie a quibusdam suis emulis proditorie interfectus fuisset / paterque suus rex Nauplus in patria sua tunc existens / huiusmodi euentus certitudinem sciuisset grecos in sui cordis odium super omnia recollegit vnde contigit ê™ cum greci deuicta Troia per altum mare versus Greciam nauigio remeantes obscurrissimo noctis tempore nimia ventoruÌ„ tempestate iactabantur rex Nauplus in terra sua contra litus maris / vbi maiora saxorum eminebant pericula super cacumina moncium grandissimos noctanter fecit ignes / quos greci aspicientes saluum portum ibidem inuenire certissime putabant / Et teri am aproximaÌ„tes diruptis nauibus magna pars grecorum periclitabatur SOnne after the destruction whan Troy was all beate downe And slain was priamus the king The gregoys whiche of all this thinge Ben cause tornen home ageyne There may no man his hap withseyne It hath ben sene and felte full ofte The harde tyme after the softe By see as they forth homewarde went A rage of great tempest hem hent Iuno let bende her partie bowe The sky waxe derke the wind gan blow The fyry welken began to thonder As though the world shuld al a sonder From heuen out of the water gates The reyny storme felle downe algates And all her tacle made vnwelde That no man myght hym selfe bewelde There may men her shypmen crie That stode in aunter for to dye He that behynde sat to stere May not the for sterne here The shyp arose agayne the wawes The lodesman hath loste his lawes The see on beate on euery syde They nysten what fortune abyde But sett hem well in goddes wyll where he hem wolde saue or spyll And it felle thylke tyme thus There was a kynge whiche Nauplus was hote and be a sonne hadde At Troye whiche the gregoys ladde As he that was made prynce of all Tyll that fortune let
hym falle His name was Palamydes But through an hate netheles Of some of hem his deathe was caste And he by treason ouercaste His father whan he herde it telle He swore if euer his tyme felle He wolde hym venge if that he myght And therto his auowe he hyght And thus this king through priue hate Abode vpon a wayte algate For he was not of suche empryse To auengen hym in open wyse The fame whiche goth wyde where Maketh knowe howe that the grekes were Homward with al the felauship Fro Troy vpon the see by shyp Nauplus whan he this vnderstode And knewe the tydes of the flode And sawe the wynde blow to the londe A great deceyte anone he fonde Of preuy bate as thou shalte here wherof I telle all this matere This kynge the wether gan beholde And wyst well they moten holde Her cours endelonge the marche right And made vpon the derke nyght Of great shydes and of blockes Great â—â—â—e ageyn the great rockes To shewe vpon the hylles hygh So that the flete of grece it sygh And so felle ryght as he thought This flete whiche an hauen sought The bryght fyres sawe a ferre And they ben drawen ner and ner And wende well and vnderstode Howe all that fyre was made for good To shewe where men shulde aryue And thytherwarde they hasten blyue In semblaunt as men sayne is gyle And that was proued thylke whyle The ship which weÌ„d his helpe accroch Drofe all to peces on the roche And so there deden tenne or twelue There myght no man helpe hym selue For there they wenden death escape withouten helpe her deathe was shape Thus they that comen fyrst tofore Vpon the rockes ben forlore But through noyse and their crie The other were ware therby And whan the day began to rowe Tho myghten they the soth knowe That where they wende frendes fynde They fonde frendship all behynde The londe than was sone weyued where that they hadden be deceyued And toke hem to the hygh see Therto they sayden all ye Fro that day forthe where they were Of that they haue assayed there Confessor ¶ My sonne wherof thou might auise Howe fraude stant in many wyse Amonge hem that gyle thynke There is no scriuener with his inke whiche halfe the fraude wryte can That stant in suche a maner man For thy the wyse men ne demen The thynges after that they semen But after that they knowe and fynde The myrrour sheweth in his kynde As he had all the worlde within And is in sothe nothynge therin And so fareth hate for a throwe Tyll he a man hath ouerthrowe Shall no man knowe by his chere whiche is auaunt and whiche is arere For thy my sonne thynke on this ¶ My father so I woll iwys And if there more of wrath be Nowe aske forthe pur charite As ye by your bokes knowe And I the sothe shall beknowe Qui cohibere manum nequit et sic spem eius Naribus hic populo sepe timendas erit Saepius in luctum Venus et sua gaudia transfert Cumque suis thalamis talis ami cus adest Est amor amplexu non ictibus alliciendus Frangit amicitias impetuosa manus ¶ Hic tractat Confessor super quarta et quinta specie ire / que impetuositas homicidium dicuntur sed primo de impetuositate specialiter tractare intendit cuius natura spmÌ„ in naribus gefiaÌ„do ad omnes â—re mociones in vindicta parata pacientiam nullatenus obseruat ¶ My sonne thou shalte vnderstonde That yet towarde wrath stonde Of deadly vices other two And for to telle her names so It is Contecke and Homicide That be to gether on euery syde Contecke as the bokes sayne Foolehast hath to his chamberlayne By whose counsayle all vnauysed Is Pacyence mooste despysed Tyll Homicide with hem mete Fro Mercy they be all vnmete And thus ben they the worst of all Of hem whiche vnto wrath falle In dede both and eke in thought For they accomten their wrath nought But if there be shedynge of bloud And thus lyche to a beast wode They knowen not the god of lyfe Be so they haue other swerde or knyfe Her deadly wrath for to wreke Of pyte lyst hem not to speke None other reason they ne fonge But that they ben of myght stronge But ware hym well in other place where euery man behoueth grace But there I trowe it shall hym fayle To whom no mercy myght auayle But wroughten vpon tyranny That no pite nÌ„e myght hem plye Now tell me sonne My father what If thou hast be culpable of that ¶ My father nay Christe me forbede I speake onlyche of the dede Of whiche I was neuer culpable without cause reasonable But this is not to my matere Of shryfte why we sytten here For we be sette to shryue of loue As we begonne fyrst aboue And netheles I am beknowe That as touchende of loues throwe whan I my wyttes ouerwende Myn hertes contecke hath none ende But euer stant vpon debate To great disease of myn estate As for the tyme that it lasteth For whan my fortune ouercasteth Her whele is to me so straunge And that I se she woll not chaunge Than cast I all the worlde about And thynke howe I at home in dout Haue all my tyme in veyne spended And se not howe to be amended But rather for to be empeyred As he that is well nygh despeired For I ne may nothynge deserue And euer I loue and euer I serue And euer I am a lyche nere Thus for I stonde in suche a were I am as who sayth out of herre And thus vpon my selfe I werre I brynge and put out all pees That I full ofte in suche a rees Am wery of myn owne lyfe So that of contecke and of stryfe I am beknowe and haue answerde As ye my father nowe haue herde Myn herte is wonderly begone with counsayle wherof wytte is one whiche hath reason in company Agayne the whiche stant partie wylle which hath Hope of his accorde And thus they bryngen vp discorde wytte and reason counsaylen ofte That I myn herte shulde softe And that I shulde V V Y L remue And put hym on t of retenue Or els holde hym vnder fote For as they seyne if that he mote His owne reule haue vpon honde There shall no wytte ben vnderstonde Of hope also to tellen this That ouer all where that he is He sette the herte in ieopardy with wysshynge and with fantasy And is not trewe of that he sayth So that in hym there is no feyth Thus with reason and wytte auysed Is wylle and hope all daye despysed Reason sayth that I shulde leue To loue where there is no leue To spede and wyll sayth there ageyne That suche an herte is to vyleyne whiche dare not loue tyll that he spede Let Hope serue at suche a nede He seyth eke where an herte sytte All holle