and syketh She asketh him anone what him mislyketh My dere herte whych that I loue moste Certes ê™ he thys nyght my fathers gost Hath in my slepe me so sore turmented And eke marcury his message hath presented That nedes to the conquest of Itayle My destyne is soone for to sayle For which me thinketh brosteÌ„ is myne herte Therwyth hys false teeres out they sterte And taketh her wythin hys armes two Is that in ernest ê™ she woll ye so Haue ye not sworne to wyfe me to take Alas what woman woll ye of me make I am a gentyl woman and a quene Ye woll not fro your wyfe thus foule flene That I was borne alas what shall I do To tellen in short this noble quene Dido She seketh halowes and doth sacrifyce She kneleth cryeth y t routhe is it to deuyse Coniureth hym and proffreth hym to be His thral his seruauÌ„t in the best degree She falleth hym to foote swouneth there Discheuyle with her bryght gylt heer And sayth haue mercy let me w t you ryde These lordes which y e wonnen me besyde woll me destroyen only for your sake And ye woll me now to wyf take As ye haue sworn thaÌ„ wol I yeue you leue To sleen me w t your swerd now sone at eue For than yet shall I dyen as your wyfe I am with chylde yeue my chylde his lyfe Mercy lorde haue pytie in your thought But al this thing auayleth her ryght nouÈt And as a traytour forth gan to sayle Towarde the large countre of Itayle And thus hath he left Dido in wo pyne And wedded there a lady hyght Rauyne A cloth he laft eke his swerde stoÌ„dynge whan he fro Dido stale in her slepyng Ryght at her beddes heed so gan he hye whan that he stale awaye to his nauye which cloth whaÌ„ sely Dido gan awake She hath it kyst full oft for his sake And sayd o swete cloth while iupiter it lest Take my soule vnbynde me of this vnrest I haue fulfylled of fortune all the course And thus alas withouten his socourse Twenty tyme yf wouned hath she than And whan that she vnto her suster Anne CoÌ„playned had of which I may not wryte So great routh I haue it to endyte And bad her norice and her sustren gon To fetchen fyre and other thynges anon And sayd that she wolde sacrifye And whan she myght her tyme wel aspy Vpon the fyre of sacrifyce she sterte And w t his swerde she rofe her to the hert But as myn auctor sayth yet thus she seyd Or she was hurt beforne or she deyed She wrote a letter anon and tus began Ryght so ê™ she as the whyte swan Ayenst his deth begynneth for to synge Ryght so to you I make my coÌ„playnyng Not that I trowe to getten you agayne For wel I wot it is all in vayne Syns y t the goddes ben coÌ„trarions to me But syn my name is lost thrugh you ê™ she I may well lese a worde on you or letter All be it I shalbe neuer the better For thilke wynde y t blew your shyp away The same winde hath blowaway your fay But whoso wol al this letter haue in minde Rede Ouyde and in hym he shal it fynde ¶ Here endeth the legende of Dido quene of Cartage And here foloweth the legend of Hypsiphile and Medea THou rote of false louers duke Iason Thou sleer deuourer and confusion Of gentle women gentle creatures Thou madest thy reclaymyng thy lures To ladyes of thy scathlyche apparaunce And of thy wordes farsed with pleasaunce And of thy fayned trouth and thy manere with thyne obeysaunce and humble chere And w t thy counterfayted payne and wo There other falsen one thou falsed two O oft swore thou that thou woldest dye For loue whan thou ne feltest malady Saue foule delyte whiche thou callest loue Yf that I lyue thy name shal be shoue In englysh that thy disceyte shal be knowe Haue at the Iason now thyne honoure is blowe But certes it is both routh and wo That loue with false louers worketh so For they shal haue well better loue chere Than he that hath bought loue ful dere Or had in armes many a blody boxe For euer as tender a capon eateth the foxe Though he be false hath y e foule betrayde As shall the good man y t therfore payde Although he haue to y e capon skil and right The false foxe wol haue his parte at nyght On Iason this example is wel ysene By Hypsiphyle and Medea the quene In Thessalye as Ouyde telleth vs There was a knyght that hyght Pelleus That had a brother which that hyght EsoÌ„ And whaÌ„ for age he myght vnethes gon He yaue to Pelleus the gouernyng Of al his reygne made hym lord kynge Of which Eson this Iason getten was That in his tyme and in al y e land there nas Not suche a famous knyght of gentlenesse Of fredome of strength and of lustynesse After his fathers death he bare hym so That there was none that lyst ben his so But dyd hym al honour and company Of which this Pelleus hath great enuy Imaginyng that Iason myght be Enhaunced so and put in suche degree with loue of lordes of his regyoun That froÌ„ his reigne he may be put adoun And in his wyt a nyght compassed he How Iason myght best destroyed be withouten sclaunder of his compasment And at the last he toke aduysement That to sendeÌ„ him into some ferre countrie There as this Iason may destroyed be This was his wyt al made he to Iason Great chere of loke and of affectioun For drede lest his lordes it espyde So fyll it as fame ronneth wyde Ther was suche tydyng ouer al such loos That in an yle that called was Colcos Beyonde Troy estwarde in the see That ther was a ram that men myght se That had a flees of golde y t shone so bryght That now her was ther such another syght But it was kept alwaye with a drogoun And many other maruayles vp and doune And with two bulles maked al of bras That spytteÌ„ fyre moche thyng there was But this was eke the tale nathelees That whoso wolde wynnen thilke flees He must both or he it wynne myght with the bulles and the dragon fyght And kynge Otes lorde was of that yle This Pelleus bethought vpon this wyle That he his neuewe Iason wolde exhort To saylen to that londe him to disport And sayd neuewe yf it myght be That suche worshyp myght fal the That thou this famous tresure might win And bringe it my region within It were to me great plesaunce and honour Than were I holde to quyte thy labour And all the costes I woll my selfe make And chose what folke thou wolt w t thetake Let se now darst thou taken this voyage Iason was yonge and lusty of corage And vndertoke to done this ylke emprise Anon Argus his shyppes can deuyse with
me to coÌ„forte I fynde non erthly thing Alas haue compassyon of my cryeng If fro me Faciem tuam abscondis There is no more but Comsumere me vis wythin myne hert is grounded thy fygure That all this worldes horryble tourment May nat it aswage it is so without measure It is so brennyng it is so feruent Remembre lorde I haue ben dilygent Euer the to please onely and no mo Myne herte is with the where soeuer I go Therfore my dere darling Trahe me post te And let me nat stande thus desolate Quia non est qui consoletur me Myne herte for the is disconsolate My paynes also nothyng me moderate Nowe yf it lyste the to speke with me a lyue Come in hast for my hert a sonder wyll ryue To the I profer lo my poore seruyce The for to please after myne owne entent I offre here as in deuout sacrifyce My boxe replete with precious oyntment Myne eyen twayne wepyng suffycient Myne herte with anguyshe fulfylled is alas My soule eke redy for loue about to pas Naught els haue I the to please or pay For if myne hert were gold or precious stone It shulde be thyne without any delay wyth hertely chere y u shuldest haue it anone why suffrest thou me than to stande alone Thou hast I trowe my wepyng in disdayne Or els thou knowest nat what is my payne Yf thou withdrawe thy noble dalyaunce For ought that euer I displeased the Thou knowest ryghtwel it is but ignorauÌ„ce And of no knowlege for certaynte If I haue offended lorde forgyue it me Gladde I am for to make full repentaunce Of all thyng that hath ben to thy greuaunce Myne herte alas swelleth wythin my brest So sore opprest with anguishe with payne That all to peces forsothe it woll brest But yf I se thy blessed corse agayne For lyfe ne dethe I can nat me refrayne If thou make delay thou mayst be sure Myne herte wol leape in to this sepulture Alas my lord why farest thou thus with me My tribulation yet haue in mynde where is thy mercy where is thy pyte whiche euer I trusted in the to fynde SoÌ„tyme thou were to me both good kynde Lette it please the my prayer to accept whiche with teares I haue here bewept On me thou oughtest to haue very routh Syth for the is all thys mournyng For sythe I to the aplyghted fyrst my trouth I neuer varyed with discordyng That knowest thou best myne owne darling why constraynest thou me thus to wayle My wo forsoth can the nothyng auayle I haue endured wythout variaunce Right as thou knowest thy louer iust trew with hert thought aye at thyne ordynauÌ„ce Lyke to the saphire alwaye in one hewe I neuer chaunged the for no newe why withdrawest thou my presence Sith all my thought is for thyne absence wyth herte entier swete lorde I crye to the Enclyne thyne eares to my petycioun And come Velociter exaudi me Remembre myne hertes dispositioun It maye nat endure in this conditioun Therfore out of these paynes Libera me And where thou arte Pone me iuxta te Lette me beholde O Iesu thy blyssed face Thy faire glorious angelyke visage Bowe thyne eares to my complaynt alas For to conuey me out of this rage Alas my lorde take fro me this doÌ„mage And to my desyre for mercy condiscende For non but thou may my greuauÌ„ce amende Nowe yet good lorde I the beseche and pray As thou raysed my brother Lazarous Frome dethe to lyfe the fourth day Come ayen in body and soule precious As great a thyng mayst thou shewe vnto vs Of thy selfe by power of thy goodheed As thou dyd of hym lyenge in graue deed Myne hert is wounded with thy charite It brenneth it flameth incessauntly Come my dere lorde Ad adiuuandum me Nowe be nat longe my payne to mulpiply Lest in the meane tyme I departe and dye In thy grace I put bothe hope and coÌ„fidence To do as it pleaseth thy hye magnifycence Floodes of dethe and tribulatyon In to my soule I fele entred full depe Alas that here is no consolatioun Euer I wayle euer I mourne and wepe And sorow hath wouÌ„ded myne hert ful depe O dere loue no marueyle though I dye Sagitte tue infixe sunt mihi Wandryng in this place as in wyldernesse No comforte haue I ne yet assuraunce Desolate of ioye replete with fayntnesse No answere receyuyng of myne enquirauÌ„ce Myne herte also graued wyth displesaunce wherfore I may saye O deus deus Non est dolor sicut dolor meus Myne hert expresseth Quod dilexi multum I may nat endure though I wolde fayne For now Solum superest sepulchrum I knowe it right well by my huge payne Thus for loue I may nat lyfe sustayne But o god I muse what ayleth the Quod sic repente precipitas me Alas I se it wyll none otherwyse be Nowe must I take my leaue for euermore This bytter payne hath almost discoÌ„fyte me My loues corse I can in no wyse restore Alas to this wo that euer I was bore Here at his tombe now muste I dye starue Dethe is aboute my herte for to carue My testament I wolde begyn to make To god the father my soule I commende To Iesu my loue that dyed for my sake My herte and all bothe I gyue and sende In whose loue my lyfe maketh an ende My body also to this monument I here bequeth bothe boxe and oyntment Of all my wylles lo nowe I make the last Right in this place within this sepulture I wol be buryed whan I am deed and past And vpon my graue I woll haue this scripture Here within resteth a goostly creature Christes trewe louer Mary Magdalayne whose hert for loue brake in peces twayne Ye vertuous women tender of nature Full of pyte and of compassyoun Resorte I pray you vnto my sepulture To synge my diâ—ige with great deuotioun Shewe your charyte in this condicioun Syng with pyte and let your hertes wepe Remembring I am deed and layde to slepe Than whan ye begyn to parte me fro And ended haue your mournyng obseruauÌ„ce Remembre where so euer that ye go Alway to sertche and make due enqueraunce After my loue myne hertes sustenaunce In euery towne and in euery vyllage Yf ye maye here of this noble ymage And yf it happe by any grace at laste That ye my treweloue fynde in any cost Say that his Magdaleyne is deed and past For his pure loue hath yelded vp the gost Say that of all thyng I loued him most And that I might nat this dethe eschewe My paynes so sore dyde euer renewe And in token of loue perpetuall whan I am buryed in this place present Take out myne hert the very rote and all And close it within this boxe of oyntment To my dere loue make therof a present Knelyng downe with wordes lamentable Do your message speke fayre and tretable Say that to him my selfe I commende A thousande tymes with
There nys no man so wyse y t couth thenche So gay a popelote or so gay a wenche Ful bryghter was the shynyng of her hewe Then in the towre the noble forged newe But of her songe it was so loude erne As any swalowe syttynge on a berne Therto she couth skyppe make a game As any kydde or calfe folowyng hys dame Her mouth was swete as braket or y e methe Or horde of apples lyeng in hey or hethe wynsynge she was as is a ioly colte Longe as a maste vpryght as a bolte A broche she bare on her lowe collere As brode as the bosse of a bokelere Her shoes were lased on her legges hye She was a primrole and a pyggeskye For any lorde to lyggen in hys bedde Or yet for any good yoman to wedde ¶ Nowe sir and efte sire so byfel the caas That on a day thys hende Nycholas Fel with thys yonge wyfe to rage and pley whyle that her husbonde was at Oseney As clerkes ben ful sotel and queynte And priuely he caught her by the queynte And sayd I wys but I haue my wyll For derne loue of the lemman I spyll And helde her faste by the haunche bones And sayd lemman loue me wel at ones Or I wol dyen also god me saue And she spronge as a colte in a traue And with her heed she wrieth fast away And sayd I wol not kesse the by my say why let be quod she let be Nycholas Or I wol crye out harrowe and alas Do way your handes for your curtesye Thys Nycholas gan mercy for to crye And spake so fayre profered hym so faste That she her loue graunted hym at laste And swore her oth by s Thomas of Kent That she wolde bene at hys coÌ„maundement when that she may her leyser wel aspye My husbonde is so ful of ielousye That but ye wayte wel and be priue I wotte ryght wel I nam but deed ê™ she Ye mote ben ful derne as in thys caas Nay therof care ye not quod Nycholas A clerke had lytherly byset hys whyle But yf he couth a carpenter begyle And thus they were accorded and ysworne To awayten a tyme as I haue sayd byforne And wheÌ„ Nicholas had don thus euery dele And thacked her aboute the lendes wele He kyssed her swete then taketh hys sautry And playeth faste and maketh melody Then fel it thus that to y e parysh cherche Christes owne workes for to werche Thys good wyfe wente vpon an holydaye Her forheed shone as bryght as any daye So was it washe when she let her werke ¶ Now was ther of y e chirch a parysh clerke The whych that was cleaped Absolon Croulle was hys heare as golde it shon And strouted as a fanne large and brode Ful streyght euen lay hys ioly shode Hys rode was redde hys eyen gray as goos with Poules wyndowes corueÌ„ on his shoos In hosen redde he wente fetously Gyrde he was ful smale and properly Al in a kyrtel of lyght waget Ful fayre and thycke ben the poyntes set And therupon he had a gay surplyse As whyte as is the blosome on the ryse A mery chylde he was so god me saue wel coude he let bloode clyppe and shaue And make a chartre of lande a quytaunce In twenty maner coude he tryp and daunce After the skole of Oxenforde tho And wyth hys legges casten to and fro And play songes on a smale rybyble Therto he songe somtyme a loude quinyble And as wel couth he playe on a geterne In al the towne nas brewhouse ne tauerne That he ne vysyted wyth hys solas There any gay tapstere was But soth to say he was somwhat squaimous Of fartynge and of speche daungerous ¶ Thys Absolon that was ioly and gaye Goth wyth a censer on the sondaye Cencyng the wyues of the paryshe faste And many a louely loke on hem he caste And namely on thys carpenters wyfe To loke on her hym thought a mery lyfe She was so propre and swete as lycorous I dare wel â—ayne yf she had ben a mous And he a catte he wold haue her hente anon Thys paryshe clerke thys ioly Absolon Hath in hys herte such a loue longynge That of no wyse toke he none offerynge For curtesye he sayd he wolde none The moone wheÌ„ it was night bryght shone And Absolon hys geterne hath ytake For paramours he thought for to wake And forth he goeth ielous and amerous Tyl he came to the carpenters hous A lytle after the cockes had ycrowe And dressed hym by a shot wyndowe That was vpon the carpenters wall He syngeth in hys voyce gentle and small Nowe dere lady yf thy wyl be I pray you that ye wol rewe on me Ful wel accordyng to hys geternynge ¶ Thys carpenter awoke herde him synge And spake vnto hys wyfe anon what Alyson here 's thou not Absolon That chauÌ„teth thus vnder our boures wal And she aunswerd her husbande ther withal Yes god wot I here hym euery dele This passeth forth what wil ye bet theÌ„ wele Fro day to day thys ioly Absolon So woeth her that hym was wo bygon He waketh al the nyght and al the day He keÌ„beth hys lockes brode made him gay He woeth her by meanes and brocage And swore he wolde ben her owne page He syngeth brokkyng as a nyghtyngale He sent her pyment meth and spyced ale And wafres pypynge hotte out of the glede And for she was of toun he profred her mede For some folke wol be wonne for rychesse And some for strokes some with geÌ„tlenesse Somtyme to shew his lyghtnes mastrye He playeth Heraudes on a skaffolde hye But what auayleth hym as in thys caas So loueth she thys hende Nicholas That Absolon may blowe the buckes horne He ne had for hys laboure but askorne And thus she maketh Absolon her ape And al hys request turneth to a iape Forsoth thys prouerbe it is no lye Men say thus alway the nye slye Maketh the ferre loue to be loth For though y e Absolon be woode or wroth Bycause that he ferre was from her syght Thus nye Nycholas stode in hys lyght But now beare the well hende Nycholas For Absolon may wayle synge alas And so byfel it on a saterbay Thys carpenter was gone to Osnay And hende Nicholas and Alyson Accorded were to thys conclusion That Nycholas shulde shapen hem a wyle Thys sely ielous carpenter to begyle And yf so be the game went aryght She shulde slepe in hys armes al nyght For thys was hys desyre and hers also And ryght anone wythout wordes mo Thys Nycholas no lenger wolde tarye But doth ful softe vnto hys chambre carye Both meate and drynke for a day or twey And to her husbande bade her for to sey Yf that he asked after Nycholas She shulde saye she nyst where he was Of al that daye she sawe hym not with cyte She trowed he was in some maladye For no crye
drenched hem selfe as bokes tell They of Messene let enquire and seke Of Lacidomony fyfty maydens eke On which they wolde haue don her lechery But there was none of al that company That she nas slayne and with a glad entenâ— Chese rather for to dyen than for to assent To ben oppressed of her maydenhede why shulde I than to dye ben in drede Lo eke the tyraunt Aristoclides That loued a mayde y t hight Symphalydes whan that her father slayne was on a nyght Vnto Dyanes temple gothe she anon ryght And hente the ymage with her armes two Fro whiche ymage wolde she neuer go No wight might fro it her hondes race Tyl she was slayne right in the selfe place Now sythnes y t maydens had such dispyte To ben defouled with mannes foule delyte wel ought a wyfe rather her selfe slee Than be defouled as thynketh me What shal I say of Hasdruballes wyfe That at Cartage byrafte her selfe her lyfe For whaÌ„ she sawe y e romanes wan the town She toke her chyldren al and lepte adown Into the fyre and chese rather to dye Than any roman dyd her villanye Hath not Lucrece islayne her selfe alas At Rome there she oppressed was Of Tarquyne for her thought it was shame To lyue whan that she had lost her name The eyght maydens of Melesye also Han slayn hem selue for very drede and wo Rather than folke of Gaule shuld heÌ„ oppresse Mo than a thousande stories as I gesse Couthe I nowe tel as touchyng this matere ¶ whan Abradas was slayn his wife so dere Her selfe slowe and let her bloode to glyde In Abradas woundes brode and wyde And sayd my body at the leste way There shal no wight defoule yf I may ¶ What shulde I mo ensamples herof sayn Sythens that so many han hem selfe slayn Wel rather than they wolde defouled be I wol conclude that it is best for me Wel rather slee my selfe in some manere As dyd demoâ—tious doughter dere Bycause that she nolde not defouled be ¶ O Sedasus it is ful great pyte To reden howe thy doughters dyden alas That slowen hem selfe for such a maner caas As great a pyte was it or wel more The Theban mayden that for Nychanore For one of Macedone had her oppressed with her dethe her maydenhede she redressed ¶ What shal I sayne of Nycerates wyfe That for suche case birafte her selfe her lyfe ¶ Howe trewe was eke to Alcibyades His loue that for to dyen rather thees Than for to suffren his body vnburyed be ¶ Lo whiche a wyfe was Alceste ê™ she what saythe Homere of good Penelope Al Grece knoweth of her chastyte ¶ Parde of Laodomia is written thus That whaÌ„ at Troy was slayn Protheselaus No lenger nolde she lyue after his day ¶ The same of noble Portia tel I may withouten Brutus couthe she not lyue To whom she had al her herte igyue ¶ The parfyte wyfehode of Artemisy Honoured is throughout al Barbary ¶ Oh Thenta quene thy wifely chastyte To al wyues may a myrrour be The same thyng I saye of Bilâ—a Of Rodogone and eke Valeria ¶ Thus playned Dorigene a day or twey Purposyng euer that she wolde dey But nathelesse vpon the thyrde nyght Home came Arueragus the worthy knight And asked her why she wepte so sore And she gan wepen euer lenger the more ¶ Alas ê™ she that euer was I borne Thus haue I said ê™ she thus haue I sworn And tolde him al as ye haue herde before It nedeth not to reherce it no more ¶ This husboÌ„de w t glad chere in soÌ„drie wyse Answerde and sayd as I shal you deuyse Is there aught els Dorigene but this ¶ Nay nay ê™ she god helpe me so as wys This is to moche and it were goddes wyl ¶ Ye wyfe ê™ he let slepe that is styl It may be wel yet parauenture to day Ye shal your trouthe holde by my fay For god so wysly haue mercy on me I had wel leuer stycked for to be For very loue whiche that I to you haue But yf ye shulde your trouthe saue Trouth is the hyest thyng that meÌ„ may kepe But with that worde he brast anon to wepe And said I you forbyd on payne of dethe That neuer whiles you lasteth lyfe or brethe To no wight tel of this misauenture As I may beste I wol my wo endure Ne make no countenaunce of heuynesse That folke of you may deme harme ne gesse And forthe he cleped a squier and a mayde Gothe forthe anon with Dorigene he sayde And bringeth her in suche a place anone They toke her leue on her way they gone But they ne wyste why she thyder went She nolde no wight tel her entent ¶ This squier whiche that hyght Aurelius On Dorigen whiche that was so amerous Of auenture happed her to mete Amydde the towne right in the hye strete As she wolde haue gon the way forthe right Towarde the garden there as she had hyght And he was to the garden warde also For wel he spyed whan she wolde go Out of her house to any maner place But thus they met of auenture or of grace And he salueth her with glad entent And asked of her whyther that she went ¶ And she answerde halfe as she were madde Vnto the garden as my husbonde badde My trouthe for to holde alas alas Aurelius gan wondren of this caas And in his hert had great compassyon Of her chere and of her lamentation And of Aruyragus the worthy knyght That bade her holde al that she had hyght So loth he was y t she shuld breke her trouth And in hys herte he caught of it great routh Consydryng the beste on euery syde That fro his luste were him better abyde Than do so hye a churlishe wretchydnesse Ayenst fraunchise ayenst al gentylnesse For whiche in fewe wordes said he thus Madame saythe to your lorde Aruiragus That sythen I se this great gentylnesse Of hym and eke I se wel your distresse That ye to me thus shuld holde your trouthe Certes me thynketh it were great routhe I haue wel leuer euer to suffre wo Than departe the loue bytwyxt you two I you relese madame into your honde Quyte euery surement and euery bonde That ye haue made to me as here byforne Sythens thylke tyme that ye were borne my trouth I plight I shal you neuer repreue Of no beheste and here I take my leue As of the trewest and the beste wyfe That euer yet I knewe in al my lyfe But euery wight beware of her byheste On Dorigene remembreth at the leste Thus can a squyer done a gently dede As wel as can a knyght withouten drede ¶ She thonked hym vpon her knees al bare And home vnto her husbonde is she fare And tolde him al as ye han herde me sayde And be ye syker he was so wel apayde That it were vnpossible me to write What shulde I lenger of this case endyte Arueragus and
place God shylde I shulde tel it for his grace A wyfe ne shulde not say of her husbonde But al honoure as I can vnderstonde Saue vnto you thus moche tel I shal As helpe me god he is nought worthe at al In no degre the value of a flye But yet me greueth moste his nygardye And wel ye wote that woman naturally Desyren thynges syxe as wel as I They wolden that her husbondes shulde be Hardy and wyse riche and therto fre And buxom to his wyfe and freshe a bedde But by that ylke lorde that for vs bledde For hys honoure my selfe to arraye A sonday next I mote nedes paye An hundred frankes or els am I lorne Yet were me leuer that I were vnborne Than me were done a slaunder or a vilanye And yf myn husbonde eke might it aspye I nere but loste and therfore I you prey Lene me this somme or els mote I dey Dan Iohn I say lene me this huÌ„dred fraÌ„kes Parde I wol not fayle you my thankes If that ye lyste to do that I you pray For at a certayne day I wol you pay And to done you what plesaunce seruyce That I may don right as ye lyste deuyse And but I do god take on me vengeaunce As foule as euer had genilion of Fraunce ¶ This geÌ„til moÌ„ke answerd in this manere Nowe truly myne owne lady dere I haue ê™ he on you so great routhe That I you swere and plight my trouthe That whaÌ„ your husboÌ„d is to FlauÌ„ders â—fare I wol delyuer you out of al this care I wol brynge you an hundred frankes And with that he caught her by the flankes And her enbraced herde and kyssed her ofte Go the nowe your way ê™ he al styl softe And let vs dyne as sone as euer ye may For by my kalender it is prime of the day Gothe nowe beth as true as I shal be Nowe els god forbyd syr sayd she And forthe she gothe as ioly as a pye And bade the cokes that they shulde hem hye So that men might dyne and that anone Vp to her husbonde is this wyfe gone And knocked at his counter doâ—e boldely Qui est la ê™ he Peter it am I Quod she howe longe wol ye fast Howe longe tyme wol ye recken and caste Your sommes your bokes your thynges The dyuel haue parte of al such reckeninges Ye haue ynough ê™ she of goddes sonde Come down to day let your bagges stonde Ne be ye not a shamed that dan Iohn Shal fastyng al this longe day gon what let vs go here masse and go dyne ¶ Wyfe ê™ this maÌ„ lytel canst thou diuyne The curyous besynesse that we haue For of chapmen so god me saue And by that lorde that called is seynt Iue Scarsly amonge twenty twelue shal thriue Contynually lastyng vnto theyr age We may wel make chere good vysage And driue forthe the worlde as it may be And kepe our estate in priuyte Tyl we be deed or els that we play A pylgrimage or gone out of the way And therfore haue I great necessyte Vpon this queynte worlde to auyse me For euermore we mote stonde in drede Of happe and fortune in our chapmanhede To FlauÌ„ders wol I gone to morow at day And come ayene as sone as euer I may For whiche my dere wyfe I the beseke As be to euery wight buxom and meke And for to kepe our good be curyouse And honestly gouerne wel our house Thou haste ynough in euery maner wyse That to a thrifty huswyfe may suffyse The lacketh none array ne no vitayle Of syluer in thy purse thou mayst not fayle And with y e worde his counter dore he shette And down he gothe no lenger wold he lette And hastely a masse was there isayde And spedely the tables were ilayde And to dyner faste they hem spedde And richly the chapman this monke fedde And after dyner dan Iohan soberly This chapman toke a parte al priuely And sayd hym thus cosyn it stondeth so Tâ—â—â— wel I se to Bruges ye wol go God and saynt Austen spede you and gyde I pray you cosyn wysely that ye ryde Gouerneth you also wel of your dyete Al temperatly and namely in this hete Betwixt vs two nedeth no straunge fare Farwel cosyn god shylde you fro care If any thyng there be by day or by night And it lye in my power or in my might That ye me wol coÌ„maunde in any wyse It shal be done right as ye wol deuyse O thyng or that ye go yf that it may be I wolde pray you for to leue me In hundred frankes for a weke or twey For certayne beestes that I mote nedes bey To store with a place that is ours God helpe me so I wolde it were yours I shal not fayle surely at my day Not for a thousande frankes a myle way But let this thyng be secret I you pray For yet this night these beestes mote I bey And fare nowe wele myne owne cosyn dere Graunt mercy of your coste and your chere ¶ This noble marchaunt gentilly anon Answerde and sayd O cosyn dan Iohn Nowe sikerly this is a smal request My golde is yours whan that you leste And not only my golde but my chaffare Take what ye lyste god shilde that ye spare But one thyng is ye knowe it wel ynough Of chapmen that her money is her plough we may creaunce whyle we haue a name But goldlesse for to be it is a shame Paye it ayen whan it lythe at your ese After my might fayne wolde I you plese ¶ These hundred frankes set he forthe anon And priuely he toke hem to dan Iohn No wight of this worlde wyst of thys lone Sauyng this marchauÌ„t dan Iohan alone They drinke speke rome a while and pley Tyl that dan Iohan rydeth to his abbey The morow came forth ryd this marchaÌ„t To FlauÌ„ders warde his preÌ„tes brought him auaÌ„t Tyl he came to Bruges wel merily Nowe gothe this marchaunt wel and besily About his nedes byeth and creaunseth He neyther playeth at the dyce ne daunseth But as a marchaunt shortly to tel He ledde his lyfe and there I let him dwel ¶ The sonday next y t this marchaÌ„t was gon To saynt Denys is comen dan Iohn with crowne berde al freshe newe ishaue In al this house there nas so lytel a knaue Ne no wight els but he was ful fayne For y t my lorde dan Iohn was comen agayn And shortly to the poynte for to gon This fayre wyfe acordeth with dan Iohn That for these hundred frankes he shulde al night Haue her in his armes bolte vpright And this acorde parformed was in dede In myrthe al nyght a besy lyfe they lede Tyl it was day y t dan Iohn yede his way And bade the meyne farwel haue good day For none of hem ne no wyght in the toun Had of Dan Iohan any suspection And
haue be steered to venge you and make werre Right so without her counsayle shall ye not accorde you ne haue peace with your aduersaries For the lawe sayth There is nothyng so good by waye of kynde as a thyng to be vnbounde by him that it was ybounde Than dame Prudence wythout delay or taryenge sent anone her messanger for her kynsfolke and her olde frendes whyche that were trewe and wise and told hem by order in the presence of Melibe al the mater as it is aboue expressed and declared And prayed hem that they wolde saye theyr aduyse and counsayle what best were to do in this nede And whan Melibeus frendes had taken her aduyse and delyberacion of the forsayd mater and had examyned it by great busynesse and dilygence They yaue ful counsaile for to haue peace and rest and that Melibee shulde receyue wyth good hert hys aduersaris to foryeuenesse and mercy And whan dame Prudence had herd thassent of her lorde Melibee and the counsayle of hys frendes accorde with her wyl and her entencion she was wondersly gladde in her hert and sayde There is an olde prouerbe sayd she That y e goodnesse that thou maist do this day do it and abyde it nat ne delay it nat tyl the next daye And therfore I counsayle that ye sende your messengers suche as be discrete and wyse vnto your aduersaries tellyng hem on your behalf that yf they wol treat of peace and accorde that they shape heÌ„ wyth out delay or taryeng to come vnto vs whyche thyng performed was in dede And whan these trespasours and repentyng folke of her folies that is to say the aduersaries of Melibeus had herde what these messangers sayd vnto hem they were ryght gladde and ioyful and answered ful mekely and benygnely yeldyng grace and thankes to her lorde Melibeâ— and to al hys companye and shope hem without delaye to go wyth the messangers and obeyed to the commaundement of her lorde Melibeus And ryght anone they toke her way to the courte of Melibe toke with hem some of their true freÌ„des to make faythe for hem for to be her borowes And whaÌ„ they were comen to the presence of Melibee he sayd to hem these wordes It stondeth thus sayde Melibee and soth it is that causelesse without skyl and reson ye haue done great iniuries and wronges to me and my wyfe Prudence and to my doughter also for ye haue entred in to my house by violence and haue done suche outrage that all men knowe wel that ye haue deserued dethe And therfore woll I knowe and wete of you whether ye woll put the punishynge and the chastylyng and the vengeaunce of thys outrage in the wyl of me and of my wyfe or ye wol not Than the wysest of hem thre answerd for hem al and sayd Sir sayd he we know wel that we ben vnworthy to come to the courte of so great a lorde and so worthy as ye be for we haue so gretly mistaken vs and haue offended and agylted in such wyse agayn your hygh lordshyp that truely we haile deserued the dethe but yet for the great goodnesse and debonairte that al the worlde wytnesseth of your person we submytte vs to y e excelleÌ„cye and benygnytye of your gracious lordeshyp and ben redy to obey to al your commaundementes besechynge you that of your merâ—iable pyte ye wel consyder oure great repentaunce and lowe submyssyon and graunt vs foryeuenesse of our outragyous trespace and offence For wel we knowe that your liberal grace and mercye stretcheth ferther in to the goodnesse than don oure outragious gyltes and trespaces in to the wyckednesse Al be it that cursedly and damnably we haue agilted agaynst your hygh lordshyp THan Melibee tooke hem vp fro the grounde ful benygnely and receyued her oblygacions and her bondes by her othes vpon her pledges and borowes and assyned hem a certayne day to retourne vnto hys courte for to receyue and accept the sentence and iugement that Melibeus wolde coÌ„maunde to be don on hem by the causes aforsayd which thynges ordayned euery man returned to hys house And whan dame PrudeÌ„ce sawe her tyme she fayned and asked her lorde Melibe what vengeaunce he thought to take on hys aduersaries To whyche Melibe answerde and sayde â–ª Certes sayde he I thynke and purpose me fully to disherit theÌ„ of al that euer they haue and for to putte them in exile for euer Certes sayd dame Prudence thys were a cruel sentence and moche ayenst reason For ye be rich ynough and haue no nede of other mennes riches And ye might lyghtly in this wyse gete you a couetous name whiche is a vicious thyng and ought be eschewed of euery good man For after the sayeng of the apostel Couetise is rote of al harmes And therfore it wer better to you to lese so moch good of your owne than for to take of theyr good in thys maner For better it is to lese good with worship than to wyn good with vilanye and shame And euerye man ought to do his dilygence and his busynesse to gette him a good name And yet shal he not onely busy him in kepyng hys good name but he shal al so enforce hym alwaye to do some thynge by whiche he may renewe hys good name For it is writteÌ„ that the old good lose of a maÌ„ or good name is soone gone and past whan it is not renewed And as touchynge that ye say that ye wol exile your aduersaries that thynketh me moche ayenst reason and out of measure consydringe the power that they haue yeue you vpon them selfe And it is wrytten that he is worthy to lese hys pryuilege that mysuseth y e might and power that is gyuen hym And I sette case ye might enioyne hem y t payne by right lawe whiche I trowe ye maye nat do I saye ye myghte not put it to execution for parauenture than it were lyke to tourne to y e werre as it was before And therfore yf ye woll that men do you obeysaunce ye muste demean you more curteisly that is to saye ye muste yeue more easy sentences and iugement For it is wrytten he that most curteisly commaundeth to hym men moost obey And therfore I praye you that in thys necessyte and in thys nede ye caste you to ouercome youre hert For as Senet sayth he that ouercometh hys herte ouercometh twise And Tully sayth there is nothyng so commendable in a great lorde as whan he is debonaire and meke and apeseth hym lyghtly And I praye you that ye woll nowe forbere to do vengeaunce in suche a maner that youre good name maye be kepte and conserued and that men may haue cause and mater to prayse you of pyte and mercye and that ye haue no cause to repent you of thynge that is done For Senecke saythe he ouercometh in an yuel manere that repenteth hym of hys victorie Wherfore I praye you let mercy be in your hert to theffecte
By my trouth I shall now tell This other daye nat gone full longe whyle within the paleyes garden by a well Gan he and I well halfe a daye to dwell Ryght for to speken of an ordinaunce How we the Grekes mitghten disauaunce Soone after that we gone for to lepe And casten with our dartes two and fro Tyll at the last he sayd he wolde slepe And on the grasse adowne he layd him tho And I after gan to romen to and fro Tyll that I herde as I walked alone How he began full wofully to grone Tho gan I stalke hym softly behynde And sekerly the soth for to sayne As I can clepe ayen now to my mynde Right thus to loue he gan hym for to playn He sayde lorde haue routh vpon my payne All haue I ben rebell in myne entent Nowe Men culpa Lorde I me repent O god that at thy disposition Ledest the fyne by iust purueyaunce Of euery wyght my lowe confession Accept in gree sende me suche penaunce As lyketh the but from disesperaunce That may my goost depart alway fro the Thou be my shylde for thy benignitie For certes lord so sore hath she me wouÌ„ded That stode in black with lokyng of her eyeÌ„ That to my hertes botom it is yfounded Thrugh which I wot y t I mot nedes dyen This is y e worst I dar me nought bewreyeÌ„ And well the hoter ben the gledes red That men hem wren w t ashen pale deed with that he smot his heed adowne anon And gan to muttre I nat what truly And I with that gan styll away to gone And let thereof as nothyng wyst had I And came agayne anon stode hym by And sayd awake ye slepen all to longe It semeth nought y t loue doth you wronge That slepen so that nomaÌ„ may you awake whosey euer or this so dull a man Ye frende quod he do ye your heedes ake For loue and let me lyuen as I can But lord that he for wo was pale and wan Yet made he tho as fresh a countenaunce As though he shuld haue led the new dauÌ„ce This passed forth tyll now this other daye It fell that I come runnyng all alone Into his chaÌ„ber founde how y t he laye Vpon his bed but man so sore grone Ne herde I neuer and what was his mone Ne wyst I nought for as I was coÌ„mynge Al sodaynly he left his complaynyng Of which I toke somwhat suspectioun And nere I come founde hym wepe sore And god so wyse be my sauatioun As neuer of thyng had I no routh more For neyther wyth engyn ne with no lore Vnnethes myght I fro the deth hym kepe That yet fele I myne hert for hym wepe And god wot neuer syth that I was borne was I so busy noman for to preche Ne neuer was to wyght so depe sworne Er he tolde who myght ben his leche But now to you rehersen all his spech Or al his wofull wordes for to sowne Ne bid me nouÈt but ye woll se me swon But for to saue his lyfe and els nought And to non harm of you thus am I driuen And for y e loue of god that vs hath wrouÈt Such chere him doth that he I may liueÌ„ Now haue I plat to you myne hert shryueÌ„ And syth ye wot that myne entent is clene Take hede therof for none euyll I mene And riÈt good thrift I pray to god haue ye That han such one ycaught withouten net And be ye wyse as ye be fayre to se wel in the rynge than is the Ruby set There were neuer two so well ymet whan ye ben his all hole as he is your Ther mighty god yet grauÌ„t vs se that hour Nay therof spake I nat Aha quod she As helpe me god ye shenden euery dele A mercy dere nece anon quod he whatso I spake I ment nought but wele By Mars the god that helmed is of stele Now beth not wroth my blod my nece dere Nowe well quod she foryeuen be it here with this he toke his leue home he weÌ„t yea lord how he was glad and wel bygon Creseyde arose and lenger she ne stent But streyght into her closet went anon And set her downe as styll as any stone And euery worde gan vp down to wynde That he had sayd as it came her to mynde And woxe somdele astoned in her thought Ryght for the newe case but whan y t she was ful auysed tho founde she ryght nouÈt Of peryll why that she ought aferde be For man maye loue of possibilitie A woman so his hert may to brest And she nat loue ayen but if her leste But as she sate alone and thought thus Thascrye arose at scarmoche al without And men cryed in the strete se Troylus Hath right now put to flyght y u grekes rout with that gonne al her meyne for to shoute A go we se cast vp the yates wyde For through this strete he mot to palys ryde For other waye is fro the yates none Of dardanus there open is the cheyne with that come he and al his folke anone An easy pace rydyng in routes tweyne Right as his happy day was sothe to seyne For whiche men sayth may nat disturbed be That shal betyde of necessyte This Troylus sate on his baye stede Al armed saue his heed ful ryâ—â—ely And wounded was his horse gan to blede On whiche he rode a pace ful softely But suche a knyghtly syght trewly As was on him was nat withouten fayle To loke on Mars that god is of batayle So lyke a man of armes and a knyght He was to sene fulfylled of hygh prowesse For bothe he had a body and myght To don that thyng as wel as hardynesse And eke to sene him in his geare dresse So freshe so yonge so weldy semed he It was an heuen vpon him for to se His helme to hewen was in twenty places That by a tyssue honge his backe behynde His shelde to dasshed w t swerdes w t maces In whiche men myght many an arowe fynd That thyrled had horne nerfe and rynde And aye the people cried here cometh our ioy And next his brother holder vp of Troye For whiche he wext a lytel reed for shame whan he so herd the people vpon him cryen That to be holde it was a noble game How sobrelych he cast adowne his eyen Cresceyde anon gan all his chere espyen And let it so softe in her hert synke That to her selfe she sayde who yaue me drynke For al her owne thought she wore all red Remembryng her ryght thus lo this is be which y t myne vncle swereth he mot be deed But I on hym haue mercy and pytie And with y t thought for pure ashamed she Gan in her heed to pull and that as fast whyle he and all the people forth by past And gan to cast and rollen vp and downe within her thought his excellent prowesse And his
goddes holde As I which ye haue brought fro cares cold Benigne loue thou holy bonde of thynges who so wol grace lyste the nat honouren Lo thys desyre wol flye wythouten wyngeÌ„ For noldest thou of bountie hem socouren That seruen best and most alway labouren Yet were al loste y t dare I well sayne certes But yf thy grace passed our desertes And for thou me y e leste thoÌ„ke coulde deserue Of hem that nombred ben vnto thy grace Hast holpen ther I lykely was for to sterue And me bestowed in so hygh a place That thylke boundes may no blysse pace I can no more but laude and reuerence Be to thy bounte and thyne excellence And therwithal Creseyde anone he kyst Of which certayne she felte no disease And thus sayd he nowe wolde god I wyst Myne hert swete howe I you might please what man ê™ he was euer thus at ease As I on which the fayrest and the best That euer I sey deyneth her to rest Here may men sene that mercy passeth right The experience of that is felte in me That am vnworthy to so swete a wyght But herte myne of your benignite So thynke that though I vnworthy be Yet mote I nede amenden in some wyse Ryght through y e vertue of your hye seruice And for the loue of god my lady dere syth he hath wrouÈt me for I shall you serue As thus I meane woll ye be my seere To do me lyue yf that you lyst or sterue So teacheth me howe that I may deserue Your thoÌ„ke so y t I thrugh myne ignorauÌ„ce Ne do nothyng that you be displeasaunce For certes fresh womanlyche wyfe This dar I saye that trouth and diligence That shall ye fynden in me all my lyfe Ne I woll nat certayn breken your defence And yf I do present or in absence For loue of god let slee me with the dede Yf that it lyke vnto your womanhede I wys ê™ she myne owne hertes lust My grounde of ease all myne hert dere Graunt mercy for on that is all my trust But let vs fal awaye fro this matere For it suffyseth this that sayd is here And at o worde withouten repentaunce welcome my knyght my peace my suffysaunce Of her delyte or ioyes one of the leest were impossyble to my wyt to saye But iudgeth ye that haue ben at the feest Of such gladnesse yf that hem lyst playe I can nomore but thus these ylke tway That nigh betwixen drede and sykernesse Feâ—ten in loue the great worthynesse O blysful nyght of hem so longe ysought How blyth vnto hem both two thou wer why ne had I such feest w t my soul yboght Yea or the leest ioye that was there Away thou foule dauÌ„ger and thou feere And let hem in this heuen blysse dwell That is so hygh that all ne can I tell But soth is though I can not tellen all As can myne auctour of his excellence Yet haue I sayd and god to forne shall In euery thyng all holly his sentence And yf that I at loues reuerence Haue any worde in eched for the best Doth therwithal ryght as your seluen lest For my wordes here and euery parte I speke hem all vnder correction Of you that felyng haue in loues arte And put it all in your discrettion To entreate or make diminition Of my langage and that I you beseche But now to purpose of my rather speche These ylke two that beth in armes last So loth to hem a sonder gon to were That eche from other wenden ben byraft Or els lo this was her moost feere That all this thing but nyce dreames wer For which ful oft eche of hem sayd o swete Clyppe I you thus or els do I it mete And lorde so he gan goodly on her se That neuer his loke ne bleynt froÌ„ her face And sayde O dere hert maye it be That it be soth that ye ben in this place Yea hert myne god thanke I of his grace ê™ tho Creseyde therwithal hym kyst That where her spyrite was for ioye she nyst This Troylus full oft her eyen two Gan for to kysse and sayd O eyen clere It weren ye that wrought me suche wo Ye humble nettes of my lady dere Though ther be mercy writteÌ„ in your chere God wot the text full harde is for to fynde How coude ye withouten bonde me bynde Therwith he gan her fast in armes take And well an hundred tymes gan he syke Nat such sorowfull syghes as men make For wo or els whan that folke be syke But easy syghes suche as ben to lyke That shewed his affection within Of suche syghes coulde he nat blyu Sone after this they spake of sondry thinges As fyll to purpose of this auenture And playing enterchaungeden her rynges Of which I can not tellen no scripture But well I wot a broche of golde asure In which a ruby set was lyke an herte Creseyde him yaue stacke it on his sherte Lorde trowe ye that a couetous wretche That blamâ—th loue and halte of it despyte That of tho pens y t he can muckre ketche was euer yet yeue to him suche delyte As is in loue in o poynt in some plyte Nay doutlesse for also god me saue So parfyte ioye may no nygarde haue They woll say yes but lorde so they lye Tho busy wretches ful of wo and drede That callen loue a woodnesse of follye But it shall fall hem as I shall you rede They shall forgon the whyte eke the rede And lyue in wo ther god yeue hem myschauÌ„ce and euery louer this trouth auauÌ„ce As wolde god tho wretches that dispyse Seruyce of loue had eares also longe As had Mida full of couetyse And therto dronken had as hote stronge As Cresus dyd for his affectes wronge To teachen hem that they ben in the vyce And louers nat although they holde hem nyse These ylke two of whom y t I you say whan that her hertes wel assured were Tho gonnen they to speake and to playe And eke rehersen how whan and where They knewe fyrst euery wo or fere That passed was but all suche heuynesse I thonke it god was turned to gladnesse And euer more whan that hem fyll to speke Of any thyng of suche a tyme agon with kyssyng all that tale shulde breke And fallen into a newe ioye anon And dyddeÌ„ al her myght syns they wer one For to recoueren blysse and ben at ease And paysed wo with ioye countrepeyse Reason woll not that I speake of slepe For it accordeth not to my matere God wot they toke of it full lytle kepe But lest this night that was to hem so dere Ne shulde in vayne escape in no manere It was beset in ioye and besynesse Of all that sowneth into gentylnesse But whan the cocke coÌ„mune astrologer Gan on his breest to beate and after crowe And Lucifer the dayes messaunger Gan for to ryse and
which with humble true pitous hert A thousande tymes mercy I you praye So reweth on myne aspre paynes smert And doth somwhat as that I shall you say And let vs steale away betwyxt vs tway And thinke y t foly is whaÌ„ a man maye chese For accident his substaunce for to lese I meane thus that syns we nowe or day well steale awaye and ben togyther so what wyt were it to putten it in assaye In case ye shulden to your father go If that ye myghten come ayen or no Thus meane I that were a great folly To put that sykernesse in ieopardy And vulgarly to speken of substaunce Of treasour may we both with vs lede Ynough to lyue in honour and pleasaunce Tyl vnto tyme that we shal ben deed And thus we may eschewen al this drede For euery other waye ye can recorde Myne hert ywys may therwith nat accorde And hardely ne dredeth no pouertie For I haue kyn and frendes els where That though we comen in our bare sherte Vs shulde neyther lacke golde ne gere But ben honoured whyle we dwelten there And go we anon for as in myne intent This is the best yf that ye woll assent Creseyde with a sygh ryght in this wyse Answerde ywys my dere herte true we maye wel steale away as ye deuyse And fynden suche vnthryftye wayes newe But afterwarde full sore it woll vs rewe And helpe me god so at my moost nede As causelesse ye suffren all this drede For thylke day that I for cherysshyng Or drede of father or for any other wyght Or for estate delyte or for weddyng Be false to you my Troylus my knyght Saturnus doughter Iuno through her migh As wode as AchamaÌ„t do me dwel Eternally with styx in the pyt of hell Ad this on euery god celestiall I sweare it you and eke on eche goddesse On euery nymphe and deitie infernall On Satiry and Fauny more and lesse That halfe goddes ben of wyldernesse And Attrapos my threde of lyfe to brest If I be false now trowe me yf ye lest And thou Synoys that as an arowe clere Thrugh Troy reÌ„nest aye dounward to y e se Be wytnesse of this worde y t sayd is here That ylke daye that I vntrue be To Troylus myne owne hert free That thou returne bakwarde to thy well And I with body and soule synke to hell But that ye speke away thus for to go And leten al your frendes god forbede For any woman that ye shulden so And namly syns Troy hath now such nede Of helpe and eke of o thyng taketh hede Yf this were wist my lyfe laye in balaunce And your honour god shylde vs from myschaunce And yf so be that peace herafter betake As all daye heppeth after angre game why lorde y e sorowe wo ye wolden make That ye ne durst come ayen for shame And er that ye ieoparden so your name Beth nat to hasty in this hote fare For hasty man ne wanteth neuer care what trowe ye the people eke al about wolde of it say it is ful lyght to arede They wolden say and swere it out of dout That loue ne draue you nat to do this dede But lust voluptuous and cowarde drede Thus were all lost iwys myne hert dere Your honour which y t now shyneth clere And also thynketh on myne honestie That floureth yet how foul I shuld it sheÌ„d And with what fylth it spotted shulde be If in this forme I shoulde with you wende Ne though I lyued vnto the worldes ende My name shulde I neuer ayenwarde wyn Thus wer I lost and y t were routh synne And for thy slee with reason al this hete Men sayne the suffraunt ouercoÌ„meth parde Eke who so wol haue lefe he lefe mote lete Thus maketh vertue of necessitie By pacience and thynke that lorde is he Of fortune aye y t nought wol of her retche And she ne dauÌ„teth no wight but a wretche And trusteth this that certes hert swete Or Phebus suster Lucina the shene The Lyon passe out of this Ariete I wol ben here withouten any wene I mene as helpe me Iuno heuens quene The tenth day but if that death me assayle I woll you sene withouten any fayle And now so thus be soth quod Troylus I shall well suffre vnto the tenth daye Syns that I se that nedes it mote be thus But for the loue of god yf it be maye So let vs stelen priuely away For euer in one as for to lyuen in rest Myne hert sayth that it woll be the best O mercy god what lyfe is this ê™ she Alas ye slee me thus for very tene I se well now that ye mystrusten me For by your wordes it is well ysene Now for the loue of Scithia the shene Mistrust me nat thus causelesse for routh Sis to be tru I haue you plight my trouth And thynketh wel that soÌ„tyme it was wyt To spende a tyme a tyme for to wyn Ne parde lorne I nat fro you yet Though that we ben a daye or two a twyn Driue out tho fantasyes you within And trusteth me leaueth eke your sorowe Or here my trouth I wyl nat lyue tyll morowe For if ye wyst how sore it doth me smerte Ye wold not cesse of this for god thou wost The pure spyrit wepeth in myne herte To sene you wepen which y t I loue moost And that I mote gon vnto the grekes host Yea nere it that I wyst a remedye To come ayen ryght here I wolde dye But certes I am not so nyce a wyght That I ne can ymagynen away To come ayen that daye that I haue hyght For who may holden a thyng y t wol awaye My father nought for all his queynt playe And by my thrift my wendyng out of Troy An other daye shall turne vs all to ioye For thy with all myne hert I you beseke Yf that you lyst done ought for my prayer And for y e loue which that I loue you eke That er that I departe fro you here That of so good a comfort and a chere I may you sene that ye may bring at rest Myne herte which is at poynt to brest And ouer all this I praye you ê™ she tho Myne owne hertes sothfast suffysaunce Syth I am thyne all hole withouten mo That whyle that I am absent no plesauÌ„ce Of other do me fro your remembraunce For I am euer agast for why men rede That loue is thyng aye ful of besy drede For in thys worlde there leueth lady none If that I were vntrewe as god defende That so betrayed were or wo begone As I that al trouth in you entende And doutlesse yf that iche other wende I were but deed and er ye cause fynde For goddes loue so beth me naught vnkind To this answered Troylus and seyde Now god to whoÌ„ there nys no cause ywrie Me glade as wys I neuer vnto Creseyde Sith thylke day I saw her fyrst wyth eye was
for to countrefete Hys gaye style but it wyll not be The welle is drye wyth the lycoure swete ▪ Both of Clye and of Caliope And fyrst of all I woll excuse me To her that is grounde of goodlyhede And thus I saye vntyll her womanhede ¶ Balade symple WYth all my myght and my beste entente Wyth all the fayth that myghtye god of kynde Me yaue syth he me soule knowynge sent I chese and to thys bonde euer I me bynde To loue you best whyle I haue lyfe mynd Thus herde I foules in the daunynge Vpon the daye of saynt Valentyne synge Yet chese I at the begynnyng in thys entent To loue you though I no mercy fynde And yf you lyste I dyed I wolde assent As euer twynne I quycke out of thys lyne Suffyseth me to sene your fethers ynde Thus herde I soules in the mornynge Vpon the daye of saynt Valentyne synge And ouer thys myne hertes luste to bente In honour onely of the wodde bynde Holy I yeue neuer to repente In ioye or wo where so that I wynde To sore Cupide wyth hys eyen blynde The foules all when Tytan dyd sprynge wyth deuout hert me thought I herd synge ¶ Lenuoye ¶ Pryncesse of beauty to you I represent Thys symple dyte rude as in makynge Of herte and wyll faythfull in myne entent Lyke as thys daye foules herde I synge ¶ Here endeth the Floure of Curtesy and here after foloweth howe pyte is deed and buryed in a gentle herte PYte y t I haue sought so yore ago wyth herte sore and full of besy payne y t in this world was neuer wyght so wo wythout deth and yf I shall not fayne ▪ My purpose was pyte to complayne Vpon teh crueltye and tyraunye Of loue that for my trouth doth me dye And that I by length of certayne yeres Had euer in one sought a tyme to speke To Pyte ran I all by spreynt wyth teeres To prayen her on Cruelte me awreke But or I myght wyth any worde out breke Or tell her any of my paynes smerte I founde her deed and buryed in an herte Adowne I fell when I sawe the herse Deed as a stone whyle y t the sowne me laste But vp I rose wyth colour full dyuerse And pytously on her myne eyen I caste And nerer the corse I gan preasen faste And for the soule I shope me for to pray I was but lorne there was no more to say Thus am I slayne syth that Pyte is deed Alas that daye that euer it shulde fall what maner man dare now hold vp his heed To whome shal nowe any sorowful hert cal Nowe Cruelte hath caste to stee vs all In ydle hope folke redelesse of payne Syth she is deed to whom shal we cōplayne But yet encreaseth me thys wonder newe That no wyght wote that she is deed but I So many men as in her tyme her knewe And yet she deyde so sodeynly For I haue sought her euer full besely Syth I had fyrst wytte or mynde But she was deed er I coude her fynde Aboute her herse there stoden lustely wythouten any mo as thought me Bountie perfytly well armed and rychely And freshe Beaute Lust and Iolyte Assured maner youthe and Honeste wysedome Estate Drede Gouernaunce Confedred both by bonde and alyaunce A complaynt had I wrytten in my honde To haue put to Pyte as a byll But I there all thys company fonde That rather wolde all my cause spyll Then do me helpe I helde my playnt styll For to those folke wythouten fayle wythout pyte there maye no byll auayle Then leaue all vertues saue onely pyte Kepynge the corse as ye haue herde me sayne Confedred by bonde vnto Cruelte And be assented when I shal be slayne And I haue put my complaynte vp agayne For to my foes my byll I dare not shewe The effecte whych sayeth thus in wordes fewe ¶ Humblest of herte hyest of reuerence Benigne sloure crowne of vertues all Sheweth vnto your royall excellence Your seruaunt yf I durst me so call Hys mortall harme in whych he is yfall And nought all onely for hys wofull fare But for your renome as he shall declare It stōdeth thus that your cōtrary cruelte Alyed is ayenst your regalye Vnder colour of womanly beaute For men shulde not knowe her tyrannye wyth bountie Gentyllesse and Curtesye And hath depryued you of your place That is hygh beaute apertenaunt to youre grace For kyndly by your heritage ryght Ye be annexed euer vnto bounte And verely ye ought do your myght To helpe trouth in hys aduersite Ye be also the corowne of beaute And certes yf ye wante in these twayne The world is lore there is no more to sayne Eke what auayleth maner gentyllesse wythout you benigne creature Shall cruelte be your gouerneresse Alas what herte may it longe endure wherfore but ye rather take cure To breke that peryllous alyaunce Ye fleen hem that ben in your obeysaunce And further yf ye suffre thus Your renome is fordo in a throwe There shall no man wete what pyte is Alas that euer your renome is fall so lowe Ye be also fro your herytage ythrowe By cruelte that occupyeth your place And we dyspayred that seken your grace Haue mercy on me thou Herenus quene That you haue sought so tenderly and sore Let some streme of lyght on me be sene That loue and drede you euer lenger y e more For sothly to sayne I beare so sore And though I be not connyng for to playne For goddes loue haue mercy on my payne My payne is thys that what so I desyre That haue I not ne nothynge lyke therto And euer setteth desyre myne herte on fyre Eke on that other syde where that I go what maner thyng that may encrease my wo That haue I redy vnsought euery where Me lacketh but my dethe and then my bete what nedeth to shewe percell of my payne Syth euery wo that herte may bethynke I suffre and yet I dare not to you playne For well I wote though I wake or wynke Ye recke not whether I flete or synke And nathelesse yet my trouth I shall sustene Vnto my death and that shall well be sene Thys is to sayne I wyll be yours euer Though ye me slee by cruelte your fo Algate my spirite shall neuer dysceuer Fro your seruyce for any payne or wo Syth ye be yet deed alas that it is so Thus for your death I may wepe playne wyth herte sore and full of besy payne ¶ Explicit ¶ La belle dame sans mercy HAlfe in a dreame not fully well awaked The goldē slepe me wrapped vnder hys wyng Yet nat for thy I rose and well nygh naked All sodaynlye my selfe remembryng Of a mater leuynge all other thynge Whyche I muste do wythouten more delay For hem whiche I durst nat dysobey My charge was this to translate by and by All thynge forgyue as parte of my penaunce A boke called La belle dame
hede what shall I saye of yonge Piramus Of trewe Tristram for al hys hye renowne Of Achylles or of Antonius Of Arcite or of hym Palamowne what was the ende of her passyoune But after sorowe deth and then her graue Lo here the guerdon that these louers haue But false Iason wyth hys doublenesse That was vntrewe at Calkos to Medee And Theseus rote of vnkyndnesse And wyth these two eke the false Enâ—e Lo thus the false aye in one degre Had in loue her lust and all her wyll And saue fashode there was none other skyll Of Thebes eke the false Arcyte And Demephoon eke for his slouthe They had her lust al that myght delyte For al her falshode and great vntrouthe Thus euer loue alas and that is routhe His false lieges forthereth what he may And sleeth the trewe vngoodly day by day For trewe Adon was slayne with the bore Amydde the forest in the grene shade For Venus loue he felte al the sore But Vulcanus wiht her no mercy made The foule chorle had many nyghtes glade where Mars her knyght and her man To fynde mercy comforte none he can Also the yonge fresshe vpomedes So lusty fre as of his courage That for to serue with al his herte he ches Athalans so fayre of her vysage But loue alas quitte hym so his wage with cruell daungere playnly at the last That wyth the deth guerdonlesse he past Lo here the fyne of loues seruyse Lo how that loue can hys seruauntes quyte Lo howe he can hys faythfull men dyspyse To slee the trewe men and false to respyte Lo howe he doth the swerde of sorowe byte In hertes such as moost hys lust obey To saue the false and do the trewe dey For fayth nor othe worde ne assuraunce Trewe meanynge awayte or busynesse Styll porte ne faythfull attendaunce Manhode ne myght in armes worthynesse Pursute of worshyp nor hye prowesse In straunge lande rydynge ne trauayle Ful lytell or nought in loue doth auayle Peryll of deth nor in see ne lande Hunger ne thurste sorowe ne syckenesse Ne great empryses for to take on hande Shedynge of bloode ne manfull hardynesse Ne ofte woundynge at sautes by dystresse Nor in partynge of lyfe nor deth also Al is for nought loue taketh no hede therto But lesynges wyth her flaterye Through her falshed with her doublenesse wyth tales newe and many fayned lye By false semblaunt and couÌ„trefete huÌ„blesse Vnder colour depaynte wyth stedfastnesse wyth fraude couered vnder a pytous face Accepte be nowe rathest vnto grace And can hym selfe nowe best magnifye wyth fayned porte and presumpcion They haunte her cause wyth false surquidre Vnder meanynge of double entencion To thynke one in her opinion And saye another to set hym selfe alofte And hynder trouth as it is sene full ofte The which thynge I bye nowe al to dere Thanked be Venus and the God Cupide As it is sene by myne oppressed chere And by hys arowes that stycken in my syde That saue deth I nothynge abyde Fro daye to daye alas the harde whyle when euer his darte that hym lyst to fyle My wofull herte for to ryue a two For taute of mercy and lacke of pyte Of her that causeth all my payne and wo And lyst not ones of grace for to se Vnto my trouth through her cruelte And moste of al I me complayne That she hath ioye to laugh at my payne And wylfully hath my deth sworne All gyltlesse and wote no cause why Saue for the trouth that I had aforne To her alone to serue faythfully O god of loue vnto the I cry And to thy blende double deyte Of thys great wronge I complayne me And vnto thy stormy wylfull variaunce Yment wyth chauÌ„ge and great vnstablenesse Now vp now down so reÌ„nyng is thy chauÌ„ce That the to trust may be no sekernesse I wyte it nothynge but thy doublenesse And who that is an archer and is blynde Marketh nothynge but shoteth by wynde And for that he hath no dyscrecion wythout aduyse he let hys arowe go For lacke of syght and also of reason In hys shotynge it happeth ofte so To hurte hys frende rather then hys fo So doth thys god wyth hys sharpe flone The trewe sleeth and letteth the false gone And of hys woundyng thys y u worst of al when he hurteth doth to so cruell wreche And maketh the sycke for to crye and call Vnto hys foe for to be hys leche And harde it is for a man to seche Vpon the poynte of dethe in ieopardye Vnto hys foe to fynde remedye Thus fareth it nowe euen by me That to my foe y t gaue myne herte a wouÌ„de Mote aske grace mercy and pyte And namely there where none may be fouÌ„de For nowe my sore my leche wyll confounde And god of kynde so hath set myne vre My lyues foe to haue my wounde in cure Alas the whyle now that I was borne Or that I euer sawe the bryght sonne For nowe I se that full longe aforne Or I was borne my desteny was sponne By Parcas systerne to slee me yf they conne For they my dethe shopen or my sherte Onely for trouth I may it not asterte The myghty goddesse also of nature That vnder god hath the gouernaunce Of worldly thynges coÌ„mytted to her cure Dysposed haue throgh her wyse purueiauÌ„ce To gyue my lady so moche suffysaunce Of all vertues and therwythall puruyde To murdre trouth hath take dauÌ„ger to gyde For bounte beaute shappe and semelyhed Prudence wyt passyngly fayrnesse Benygne porte glad chere wyth lowlyhed Of womanhede ryght plenteous largenesse Nature dyd in her fully impresse when she her wrought alther last disdayne To hinder trouth she made her chaÌ„berlayne when mystrust also and false suspection wyth mysbyleue she made for to be Chefe of counsayle to thys conclusyon For to exyle trouth and eke pyte Out of her court to make mercy flee So y t dyspyte nowe holdeth forth her reyne Through hasty byleue of tales y t men feyne And thus I am for my trouth alas Murdred slayne w t wordes sharpe kene Gyltlesse god wote of all trespas And lye and blede vpon this colde grene Nowe mercy swete mercy my lyues quene And to your grace of mercy yet I preye In your seruyce that your man maye deye But yf so be that I shall dye algate And that I shall none other mercy haue Yet of my deth let thys ben the date that by your wyl I was brouÈt to my graue Or hastely yf that you lyst me saue My sharpe woundes that ake so and blede Of mercy charme and also of womanhede For other charme playnly is there none But onely mercy to helpe in thys case For though my woundes blede euer in one My lyfe my deth standeth in your grace And though my gylte be nothynge alas I aske mercy in all my best entente Redy to dye yf that ye assente For there agaynst shall I neuer stryue In worde ne werke
playnly I ne may For leuer I haue then to be alyue To dye sothly and it be to her paye Yea though it be thys same daye Or when that euer her lyst to deuyse Suffyseth me to dye in your seruyse And god y t knowest y e thoght of euery wyght Ryght as it is in euery thynge thou mayst se Yet er I dye wyth all my full myght Lowly I praye to graunt vnto me That ye goodly fayre freshe and fre whych onely slee me for defaute of rothe Or that I dye ye maye knowe my trouth For that in soth suffiseth me And she it knowe in euery circumstaunce And after I am wel payde that she If that her lyst of deth to do vengeaunce Vnto me that am vnder her ligraunce It sytte me not her dome to dysobeye But at her luste wylfully to deye wythout grutchynge or rebellyon In wyll or worde holy I assent Or any maner contradiction Fully to be at her commaundement And yf I dye in my testament My herte I sende and my spirite also what so euer she lyste wyth hem to do And alder laste to her womanhede And to her mercy me I recomaunde That lye nowe here betwyxte hope drede Abydynge playnly what she lyst coÌ„maunde For vtterly thys nys no demaunde welcome to me whyle me lasteth brethe Ryght at her choyse where it be lyfe or dethe In this maâ—er more what might I fayne Syth in her hande and in her wyll is all Bothe lyfe deth my ioye and al my payne And fynally my heste holde I shall Tyl my spirite by desteny fatall when that her lyst fro my body wende Haue here my trouth thus I make an ende And with that worde he gan sygh as sore Lyke as hys herte ryue wolde at wayne And helde hys peace spake no worde more But for to se hys wo and mortall payne The teres gonne fro myne eyen rayne Full pytously for very inwarde râ—the That I him saw so long wishing for trouth And all thys whyle my selfe I kepte close Amonge the bowes and my self gonne hyde Tyll at the last the wofull man arose And to a lodge wente there besyde where all the May hys custome was tabyde Sole to complayne of hys paynes kene From yere to yere vnder the bowes grene And for bycause that it drewe to the nyght And that the sonne his arke diurnall Ypassed was so that his persaunt light Hys bright bemes and hys stremes all were in the waues of the water fall Vnder the bordure of our occyan Hys chare of golde hys course so swyftly ran And whyle the twylyght the rowes rede Of Phebus lyght were deaurat alyte A penne I toke and gan me fast spede The wofull playnte of thys man to wryte worde by worde as he dyd endyte Lyke as I herde and coude hem to reporte I haue here set your hertes to disporte If ought be mysse laye the wyte on me For I am worthy for to beare the blame If any thynge mysse reported be To make this dytte for to seme lame Through myne vncoÌ„ning but for to sayn the same Lyke as this maÌ„ his complaynt dyd expresse I aske mercy and forgyuenesse And as I wrote me thought I sawe a ferre Ferre in the west lustely appere Esperus the goodly bryght sterre So glad so fayre so persaunt eke of chere I meane Venus wyth her bemes clere That heuy hertes onely to releue Is wonte of custome for to shewe at eue And I as fast fell adowne on my kne And euen thus to her gan I to prey O lady Venus so fayre vpon to se Let not this man for hys trouthe deye For that ioy thou haddest whan thou leye w t Mars thy knight whan Vulcanus fonde And with a chayne vnuysyble you bonde Togyder bothe twaye in the same whyle That all the courte aboue celestyall At your shame gan laughe and smyle Ah fayre lady wylly fonde at all Comforte to carefull o goddes immortall Be helpynge nowe and do thy dilygence To let the stremes of thyne influence Descende down in fortheryng of the trouth Namely of hem that lye in sorowe bounde shewe now thy miÈt on her wo haue routh Er false daunger sle hem and confounde And specially let thy myght be founde For to socoure what so that thou maye The trewe man that in the herber lay And all trewe forther for hys sake O glad sterre O lady Venus myne And cause hys lady hym to grace take Her herte of stele to mercy so enclyne Er that thy bemes go vp to declyne And er that thou nowe go fro vs adowne For that loue thou haddest to Adowne And whan she was gone to her rest I rose anone and home to bed wente For wery me thought it for the best Prayenge thus in all my best entente That all trewe that be wyth daunger shente wyth mercy may in release of her payne Recured be er Maye come efte agayne And for that I ne may no lenger wake Farewell ye louers all that be trewe Prayenge to god and thus my leue I take That er the sonne to morowe be rissen newe And er he haue ayen rosen hewe That eche of you may haue suche a grace Hys owne lady in armes to embrace I meane thus in all honeste wythout more ye may togyder speke what so ye lyst at good lyberte That eche may to other her herte breke On ialousyes onely to be wreke That hath so longe of his malyce and enuye werred trouthe with hys tyranny ¶ Lenuoye Pryncesse pleaseth it to your benygnyte Thys lytell dyte to haue in mynde Of womanhode also for to se Your man may your mercy fynde And pyte eke that long hath be behynde Let hym agayne be prouoked to grace For by my trouthe it is agaynst kynde False daunger to occupye hys place Go lytell quayre vnto my lyues quene And my very hertes souerayne And be ryght glad for she shall the sene Suche is thy grace but I alas in payne Am lefte behynde not to whom to playne For mercy ruthe grace and eke pyte Exiled be that I may not attayne Recure to fynde of myne aduersyte ¶ Explicit ¶ A preyse of women ALl tho that lyste of women euyll to speke And fayn of hem worse than they deserue I pray to god that her neckes to breke Or on some euyll dethe mote tho ianglers sterne For euery man were holden hem to serue And do hem worshyp honour and seruyce In euery maner that they best coude deuyse For we ouÈt fyrst to thynke on what manere they briÌ„g vs forth what payn they endure Fyrst in our byrth and syth fro yere to yere Howe busely they done theyr busy cure To kepe vs fro euery mysauenture In our youth whan we haue no myght Our selfe to kepe neyther by daye nor nyght Alas howe may we say on hem but we le Of whom we were fostred and ybore And ben al our succoure euer trew as stele And for our
wyldernesse Yet Skogan thinke on Tullius kindenesse Mynde thy frende there it may fructify Farewel loke thou neuer efte loue defye ¶ Explicit GO forthe kynge rule the by sapience Byshoppe be able to ministre doctrine Lorde to trewe counsayle yeue audience womanheade to chastyte euer enclyne Knyght let thy dedes worshyp determyne Be ryghtous iuge in sauyng thy name rych do almesse lest thou lese blysse w t shame People obey your kyng and the lawe Age be thou ruled by good reugion trew seruauÌ„t be dredeful kepe y e vnder awe And thou poor fye on presumption Inobedience to youth is vtter destruction Remembre you howe god hath set you lo And do your parte as ye be ordayned to ¶ Chaucer vnto hys empty purse To you my purse and to none other wight Complayne I for ye be my lady dere I am sory nowe that ye be lyght For certes ye nowe make me heuy chere Me were as lefe be layde vpon a bere For which vnto your mercy thus I crye Be heuy agayne or els mote I dye Nowe vouchsafe thys daye or it be nygt That I of you the blysful sowne may here Or se your colour lyke the sunne bryght That of yelownesse had neuer pere Ye be my lyfe ye be my hertes stere Quene of comforte and of good company Be heuy agayne or els mote I dye Nowe purse that arte to me my lyues lyght And sauiour as downe in thys worlde here Out of thys towne helpe me by your myght Syth that ye wol not be my treasourere For I am shaue as nygh as any frere But I pray vnto your curtesye Be heuy agayne or els mote I dye ¶ Explicit ¶ Chaucer vnto the kynge O conquerour of Brutes Albyon Whych that by lyne and free election Bene very kynge thys to you I sende And ye that maye al harmes amende Haue mynde vpon my supplycation ¶ Explicit COnsyder wel euery circuÌ„staunce Of what estate so euer thou be Rych stronge or myghtye of puissaunce Prudent or wyse discrete or besy The dome of folke in soth thou maye not flye what euer thou dost trust wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys For in thy porte or in thyne apparayle If thou be cladde and honestly be seyne Anone the people of malice wol not fayle wythout aduyce or reason for to sayne That thyn array is made wrouÈt in vaine what suffre hem speke and trust wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys Thou wolde to kynges be equiuolent wyth great lordes euyn and peregal And yf thou be torne and al to rent Than wol they say and iangle ouer al That thou art a slogarde y t neuer thriue shal Yet suffre hem speke and trust wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys If it befal that thou take a wyfe They wol falsly say in theyr entent That thou art lykely euer to lyue in stryfe Voyde of al rest wythout alegement wyues hem maystren thys is their iugemeÌ„t Yet suffren theyr speche and trust well thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys If thou be fayre and excellent of beaute Yet wol they say that thou arte amerous If thou be foule and vglye on to se They woll affirme that thou art vicious The peoples langage is so dispytous Suffre al theyr speche and trust wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys If so be that thou of parfyrenesse Haue auowed to lyue in chastite Than wol folke of thy person expresse that thou art impoteÌ„t tengeÌ„dre in thy degre And thus whether thou be chast or delauie Suffre hem speke and truste wel thys A wycked tonge wol alwaye say amys If thou be fatte or corpulent Than woll they say thou art a gloton A denouret or els vynolent If thou be megre or leane of fashyon Cal the a nygarde in theyr opinyon Yet suffre them speke and truste wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys If thou be ryche some wol yeue the laude And saye it cometh of prudent gouernaunce And some wol say it cometh of fraude Or by sleyght or by false cheuysaunce To say the worst folke haue so gret plesauÌ„ce what suffre hem say and trust wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys If thou be sadde or sobre of countenaunce Men wol say thou thynkest some treason And yf thou be glad of dalyaunce Men wol deme it dissolution Callyng fayre speche adulation Yet let hem speke and trust wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys And who that is holy by perfection Men of malyce wol cal hym an ypocrite And who that is mery of clene entencion MeÌ„ say in ryot he him doth delyte some mourne in black some lauÈe in clothes white what suffre hem say and trust wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys who speketh much is holden prudent And who debateth meÌ„ saye that he is hardy And who y t sayth lytle wyth great sentemeÌ„t Some men yet wol wyte hym of foly Trouth is put downe nowe goth flattery who y t lyst playnly know y e trouth of thys It is a wycked tong y t alway sayth amys For though a man were as pacient As was Dauid thorowe humilitie Or with Salomon in wisdome as prudent Or in knyghthode egal with Iosue Or manly proued as Iudas Machabe Yet for al that trust ryght wel thys A wycked tonge wol alway say amys And though a maÌ„ had the hygh prowesse Of worthy Hector Troyes champion The loue of Troylus or the kyndnesse Or of Cesar the famous hygh renoun wyth al Alysaunders domination Yet for al that trust ryght wel thys Some wycked tonge of hym wol say amys Or though a man of hyghe or lowe degre Of Tullius had the sugred eloquence Or of Seneca the great moralite Or of Caton the â—oresyght and prouidence the coÌ„quest of Charles Artures magnificeÌ„ce Yet for al that trust ryght well thys Some wycked tonge wol say of hym amys The wysely trouth of Penelope Though they it had in her possession Holynesse beautie the kyndenesse of Medee The lyfe vnfeyned of Mertia Caton Or of Alcest the trewe affection Yet dare I say and trust ryght well thys A wycked tonge wol say of her amys Than sythen it is so no man may eschewe The swerde of tonge but it kerue and byte Ful harde it is a man for to remewe Out of theyr daunger him for to aquyte wo to the tonges that hem so delyte To hynder or sclaunder set theyr studye in thys And theyr pleasaunce to do and say amys Moost noble princes cheryshers of vertue Remembreth you of hygh discrecyon The fyrst vertue and most pleasyng to Iesu By the wrytyng and sentence of Caton Is a good tonge in hys opinyon Chastyse the reuerse of wysdome do thys withdraw your hering froÌ„ al y e same amys ¶ Et sic est finis 〈…〉 〈…〉 ¶ Thus endeth the workes of Geffray Chaucer Prynted at London The yere of our lorde 1542. ¶ EpitaphtuÌ„ Galfridi Chaucer per poet am lauriatum Stephanum Surigonum Mediolanensem in decretis licentiatum PYerides muse si possint numina fletus Fundere diuinas atque riga re genas Galfridi vatis Chaucer crudelia fata PlaÌ„gite sit lachrymis abstinuisse nephas Vos coluit viueÌ„s at vos celebrate sepulâ—uÌ„ Reddatur merito gratia digna viro GraÌ„de decus vobis eÌ„ docti musa Maronis Qua didicit melius lingua latma loqui GraÌ„de nouuÌ„que decê° Chaucer famaÌ„que ê‘anit Hen quantu fuerat prisca Britanna rudis Reddidit insigneÌ„ maternis uersibus â—â—â—am Aurea splendescat ferrea facta prius HuÌ„c latuisse viruÌ„ nil si tot opuscula vertes Direris egregiis que decorata modis Socratis ingenium vel foÌ„tes philosophie Quicquid et archani dogmata sacra 〈◊〉 Et quascuÌ„que velis tenuit dignissimus aâ—â—â—s Hic vates paruo conditus hoe tumulo Ah laudis quamtuÌ„ preclara Britannia perdis Dum rapuit tantum mors odiola viâ—â— Crudeles parce crudelia â—ila sorores Non tamen extineta coâ—â—â—re lama pâ—â—â— Viuet meternum viuent dum scripta poâ—â—â— Viuant eterno rot monumenta die Si qua bonos taÌ„git pietas si carmie dign Carmia qui cecinit tot cumulata moâ—â—â— Hec sibi marmoreo scribaÌ„t verba sepulâ—hâ—â— Hec maneat laudis sarcina summa 〈◊〉 Galfridus Chaucer vates et fama poesâ—â— Materne hac sacra sum tumulatê° hum◠¶ Post obitum Caxton voluit te viuere cura willelmi Chaucer clare poeta tui Nam tua noÌ„ soluÌ„ coÌ„pressit opuscula formis Has quoque sed laudes iussit hic esse tuas
chesteyn laulere Maple thorne beche ewe hasel whipultre How they were felde shal nat be tolde for me Ne howe the goddes ronne vp and doun Disheryted of her abytacioun In whiche they wonned in rest and pees Nymphes Fauny and amadriades Ne howe the beeste ne the byrdes all Fledden for feare whan the trees fall Ne how the grounde agast was of the lyght That was nat wonte to se the sonne bryght Ne how the fyre was couched first with stre And than with drye styckes clouen a thre And than with grene wodde and spicery And than with clothe of golde and perry And garlondes haÌ„gyng with many a floure The myrre the ensence with swete odoure Ne howe Arcyte lay amonge al this Ne what rychesse aboute hys body is Ne howe that Emely as was the gyse Put in the fyre of funeral seruyse Ne how she swouned whaÌ„ maked was y e fyre Ne what she spake ne what was her desyre Ne what iewelles men in the fyre caste Whan that the fyre was great brent faste Ne how some cast her sheld some her spere And of her vestementes whiche y t they were And cuppes full of wyne mylke and bloode In to the fyre that brent as it were woode Ne howe the grekes with a huge route Thryse rydden all the fyre aboute VpoÌ„ the lefte hande with a loude showtyng And thryse with her speares clateryng And thryse howe the ladyes gan crye Ne how that ladde was homwarde Emelye Ne howe that Arcite is brent to asshen colde Ne howe the lyche wake was holde All that nyght ne howe the grekes play The wake playes kepe I nat to say Who wrestled best naked wyth oyle anoynt Ne who bare hym best in euery poynt I woll not tellen howe they gone whom to Athenes whan the play is done But shortly to the poynt than woll I wende And make of my longe tale an ende By processe and by length of yeres All stynten is the mornyng and the teres Of grekes by one generall assent Than semed me there was a parlement At Athenes vpon a certayne poynt and caas Amonge the whiche poyntes yspoken was To haue with certayne countres alyaunce And haue of Thebans fully obeysaunce For whiche thys noble Theseus anon Let sende after thys gentyl Palamon Vnwyste of him what was y e cause why But in his blacke clothes sorowfully He came at hys commaundement on hye Tho sent Theseus after Emelye Whan they were set hushte was y t place And Theseus abydden hath a space Or any worde came from his wyse brest Hys eyen sette he there hym lest And with suche a sadde vysage he syked styll And after that right thus he sayd hys wyll ¶ The fyrst mouer of the cause aboue Whan he first made the fayre chayne of loue Great was theffecte hye was hys entente Wel wyste he why what therof he mente For with that fayre chayne of loue he bonde The fyre the eyre the water and the londe In certayne bondes that they may nat fle That same prince and that mouer ê™ he Hath stablisshed iÌ„ this wretched world adosâ— Certen dayes and duracion To al that are engendred in thys place Ouer the whiche day they may not pace Al mowe they yet the dayes abredge There nedeth none auctorite to ledge For it is proued by experyence But that me lyst declaren my sentence Than may men by thys ordre discerne That thylke mouer stable is and eterne wel may men knowe but he be a fole That euery party is deryued from hys hole For nature hath not taken hys begynnyng Of one parte or cantell of a thyng But of a thyng that perfyte is and stable Discendyng so tyl it be corrumpable And therfore of hys wyse purueyaunce He hath so wel byset hys ordynaunce That spaces of thynges and progressyons Shullen endure by successyons And not eterne wythout any lye Thus mayst thou vnderstande and se at eye Lo the oke that hath so longe a norishyng Fro the tyme that it beginneth first to spring And hath so longe a lyfe as ye may se Yet at the last wasted is the tre Consydreth eke howe that the harde stone Vnder our fete on whiche we reeade gone Yet wasteth it as it lyeth in the wey The brode ryuer somtyme wexeth drey The great townes se we waue and wende Than ye se that al thys thyng hath ende And man and waman se shal we also That nedeth in one of the termes two That is to sayne in youthe orels in age He mote be deed a kyng as wel as a page Some in his bedde some in the depe see Some in the large felde as ye may se It helpeth not al gothe that ylke wey Than may ye se that al thyng mote dey what maketh this but Iupiter the Kyng That is prince and cause of al thyng Conuertyng al to hys propre wyl From whiche it is deryued sothe to tel And here agayne no creature on lyue Of no degre auayleth for to stryue Than is it wysedome as thynketh me To make vertue of necessyte And take it wel that we may not eschewe And namely that to vs al is dewe And who so grutcheth aught he dothe folye And rebel is to hym that al may gye And certaynly a man hath moste honour To dyen in hys excellence and flour whan he is syker of hys good name ThaÌ„ hath he don his frendes ne him no sham And gladder ought his frendes be of his deth whan with honour y yolde is vp the breth Than whan his name apalled is for age For al foryeten is hys vassellage Than is it best as for a worthy same To dyen whan he is best of name The contrarye of al thys is wylfulnesse why grutchen we â–ª why haue we heuynesse That good Arcite of cheualry the floure Departed is with dutye and with honoure Out of this foule prison of thys lyfe why grutchen here his cosyn and hys wyfe Of his welfare that loueth hym so wele Can he hem thaÌ„ke nay god wot neuer a dele That bothe his soule and eke hem offende And yet they mowe not her lustes amende ¶ what may conclude of thys longe story But after sorowe I rede vs be mery And thanke Iupiter of al his grace And er we departen from thys place I rede we maken of sorowes two One perfyte ioye lastyng euer mo And loke nowe where most sorowe is heryn There wol I fyrst amende and begyn Suster quod he thys is my ful assent Wyth al the people of my parlement That gentle Palamon your owne knyght That serueth you with wyl herte myght And euer hath done sythe ye fyrst hym knew That ye shal of your grace vpon hym rewe And take hym for husbonde and for lorde Lene me your honde for thys is our accorde Let se nowe of your womanly pyte He is a kynges brother sonne parde And though he were a poore bachelere Syn he hath serued you so many a yere And
had for you so great aduersyte It muste ben consydred leueth me For gentle mercy ought to passen ryght Than sayd he thus to Palamon y e Knight I trowe chere nede lytel sarmonyng To make you to assenten to thys thyng Cometh nere taketh your lady by y e honde Bytwyxt hem was maked anon the bonde That hyght matrimony or maryage By all the counsayle of the baronage And thus with al blysse and melodye Hath Palamon ywedded Emelye ¶ And god that al this world hath wrought Sende him his loue y t it hath so dere bought For nowe is Palamon in al wele Lyuyng in blysse in richesse and in hele And Emelye hym loueth so tenderly And he her serueth so gentelly That neuer was ther no worde heÌ„ bytwene Of ielousye or of any other tene Thus endeth Palamon and Emelye And god saue al thys fayre companye ¶ Here endeth the Knyghtes tale and here foloweth the Myllers Prologue WHan that the knight had thus hys tale ytolde In al the companye nas ther yong ne olde That he ne sayd it was a noble story And worthy to be drawen in memory And namely the gentyls euerychone Our hoste lough and sware so mote I gone This gothe a right vnbokled is the male Let se nowe who shal tel another tale For truely the game is wel begonne Nowe telleth syr monke yf ye donne Somwhat to quyte with the knyghtes tale ¶ The myller for dronken was al pale So that vnnethes vpon hys horse he satte Ne nolde auale neyther hoode ne hatte Ne abyde no man for hys curtesye But in Pylates voyce he began to crye And swore by armes bloode and bones I can a noble tale for the nones with which I wol nowe quyte y e Knight his tale ¶ Our hoste sawe that he was dronkeÌ„ of ale And sayd abyde Robyn leue brother Some better man shal tel vs fyrst an other Abyde and let vs wirche thriftely ¶ By goddes soule ê™ he that wol not I For I wol speke or els go my way Our hoste answerde tel on a dyuelway Thou arte a foole thy wytte is ouercome Nowe herkeneth quod y u myller al some But fyrst I make protestacion That I am dronke I knowe it by my soun And therfore yf I mispeke or say wyte it the ale of Sothwarke I you pray For I wol tel a legende and a lyfe Bothe of a carpenter and hys wyfe Howe that a clerke set a wrightes cappe ¶ The Reue answerde said stynte thy clap Let be thy lende dronken harlottry It is a synne and eke a great folye To apayren any man or hym defame And eke to bryng wyues in suche blame Thou mayst ynouge of other thynges sayn Thys dronkeÌ„ myller spake ful sone agayn And sayd leue brother Oswolde who hath no wyfe is no cokolde But I say not therfore that thou arte one There ben ful good wyues many one why arte thou angry with my tale now I haue a wyfe parde as wel as thou Yet nolde I for al the oxen in my plough Take vpon me more than ynough To demen of my selfe that I am one I wol beleue that I am none An husbonde shulde not ben inquisytyse Of goddes priuete ne of hys wyfe For so he fynde goddes foyson there Of the remenaunt nedeth nat to enquere what shulde I more say but this Myllere He nolde his wordes for no man forbere But tolde his chorles tale in this manere Me forthynketh I shal reherce it here And therfore euery gentle wight I pray Demeth not for goddes loue that I say Of yuel entent but that I mote reherce Her tales al ben they better or werse Or els faâ—â—en some of my matere And therfore who so lyst it not to here Turne ouer the lefe and chose another tale For ye shal fynde ynowe great and smale Of hystorial thyng that toucheth gentilnesse And eke moralite and holynesse Blame not me yf that ye chose amys The Myller is a chorle ye knowe wel this So was the Reue eke and other mo And harlotry they tolde eke bothe two Auyse you and put me out of blame And eke men shuld not make ernest of game ¶ Here endeth the Myllers prologue and here after foloweth hys tale WHylom ther was dwellyng in Oxenforde A ryche gnoffe y t gestes helde to borde And of his craft he was a carpenter Wyth hym there was dwelling a poore scoler Had ylerned arte but al his fantasye Was turned to lerne Astrologye And coude a certayne conclusyons To demen by interogacions If that men asked hym in certayne houres whan y t men shulde haue drought or shoures Or yf men asked hym what shulde befall Of euery thyng I may not reken al. Thys clerke was cleped hende Nycholas Of derne loue he coude and of solas And therto he was slye and ryght priue And ylyke to a mayden meke to se A chambre had he in that hostelry Alone withouten any company Ful fetously dight with herbes sote And he hym selfe as swete as is the rote Of lycores or of any sytuwale His almagiste and bokes great and smale His after lagour longyng for hys arte His augrym stones lyeng fayre a parte On shelues couched at his beddes heed Hys presse ycouered with a foldyng reed And al aboue there lay a gay sautrye On whiche he made on nyghtes melodye So swetely that al the chambre ronge And Angelus ad virginem he songe And after that he songe the kynges note Ful ofte blessed was hys mery throte And thus the swete clerke hys tyme spente After hys frendes fyndynge and hys rente ¶ Thys carpenter had wedded new a wyfe whych that he loued more then hys lyfe Of eyghtene yere she was of age Ielous he was and kepte her strayte in cage For she was wyld and yonge he was olde And demed hym selfe to ben a cokewolde He knewe not Cato for hys wytte was rude That bad men wedde her similitude Men shulde wedde after her astate For youth and elde is often at debate But syth he was fallen in the snare He must enduren as other folke hys care Fayre was this yoÌ„ge wyfe therwithal As any wysele her body gentle and smale A seynte she weared barred al wyth sylke A barme clothe as whyte as morowe mylke Vpon her lendes ful of many a gore whyt was her smock embrouded al byfore And eke behynde on her colere aboute Of cole blacke sylke within and eke without The tapes of her whyte volypere were of the same sute of her colere Her fylet brode of sylke and set ful hye And sykerly she had a lykerous eye Ful smale ypulled were her browes two And tho were bent and black as any slo She was moche more blysful for to se Then is the newe Perienet tre And softer then the wol is of a wether And by her gyrdel honge a purse of lether Tassed wyth sylke and perled wyth latoun In al thys worlde to seken vp and doun
herte so free This poore token say to hym I sende Pleaseth his goodnesse to take it in gree It is hys owne of ryght it is hys see whyche he asked whan he sayd longe before Gyue me thy herte and I desyre no more A due my lorde my loue so fayre of face A due my turtel doue so freshe of hue A due my myrthe a due al my solace A due alas my sauyour lorde Iesu A due the gentyllest that euer I knewe A due my most excellent paramour Fayrer than rose sweter than Lylly flour A due my hope of all plesure eternall My lyfe my welth and my prosperite Myne herte of golde my peerle orientall Myne adamant of parfyte charite My chefe refuge and my felycite My comforte and all my recreatioun Farwell my perpetuall saluatioun Farewell myne Emperour celestyall Most beautyful prince of al mankynde A due my lorde of herte most lyberall Farwell my swetest bothe soule and mynde So louyng a spouse shall I neuer fynde A due my souerayne and very gentylman Farewell dere herte as hertely as I can Thy wordes eloquent flowing in swetnesse Shall no more alas my mynde reconforte wherfore my lyfe must ende in bytternesse For in this worlde shall I neuer resorte To the whiche was myne heuenly disporte I se alas it woll none other be Nowe farwell the grounde of all dignite A due the fayrest that euer was bore Alas I may not se your blessed face Nowe welaway that I shal se no more Thy blessed vysage so replete wyth grace wherin is printed my parfyte solace A due myne hertes roote and al for euer Nowe farewel I must from the disceuer My soule for anguysh is nowe full thursty I faynt ryght sore for heuynesse My lorde my spouse Cur me dereliquisti Syth I for the suffre al thys distresse what causeth the to seme thus mercylesse Sith it the pleaseth of me to make an ende In manus tuas my spirite I cōmende ¶ Finis The Remedy of Loue. SEyng the manyfolde inconuenience Fallynge by vnbridled prosperite which is not tempred with moral prudence Nothyng more welthy thā youthes frelte Moued I am both of ryght and equyte To youthes wele somwhat to write wherby he may hym selfe safecondyte Fyrst I note as thyng moost noyous Vnto youth a greuous malady Amonge vs called loue encombrous Veryng yonge people straungely Ofte by force causeth hem to dye Age is eke turmented by loue Byneth the gyrdle and not aboue wherfore thys werke which is ryght laborous For age me nede not in hande to take To youth me oweth to be obsequious Nowe I begyn thus to worke for hys sake whych may the feruence of loue a slake To the louer as a mitigatyue To hym that is none a preseruatyue That myghty lorde whych me gouerneth Youth I meane measure yf I pace In euery mater whiche hym concerneth Fyrst as is behoueful I woll aske grace And forth wythal in thys same place Er I begyn I wol knele and saye These fewe wordes and hym of helpe pray Flourynge youth whych hast auauntage In strength of body in lust and beaute Also a precellyng haste aboue age In many a singuler commodite Howe be it one thyng he hath beyonde the To thy moost profyte and greatest auayle which shlud y e cōduit I meane sad coūsayle And yet good lorde of a presumption I nyl depraue thy myght and deite I lyue but vnder thy protection I am thy subiecte I weare thy lyuerie For thou arte grounde of my prosperite And freshest floure of al my garlonde My singuler ayde as I wel vnderstonde But as he that oweth hys lorde beste seruice And entyre fayth his honour to supporte Ryght so I speke and in none other wyse I knowlege my selfe one of the leste sorte Of thy seruauntes to our elders comforte Drawe sadde counsayle to they yf thou lyst The and thy power who may than resyst Fye on age vnder wordes fewe And his erconyous opinyon what spekest of him whyche sayth most vntrew Al youth to be of yl disposition Dampneth vs al wythout exception And for a colerable auauntage He sayth in him resteth counsayle sage Wel may sadde counsayle in hym rest But yet hys dedes bene ferre therfro He may say wyth our paryshe preest Do as I say and not as I do For I my selfe knowe one or two wel stryken in age for neyghbourhedde wol to theyr neyghbours wyues bedde He wyl in presence of the yonge man Her clyppe and kysse yee and downe laye To bleare hys eye thus he sayth than O suffre yet olde Morel to playe Nowe haue I done that I can or may Thus he saeth her husbonde to queme That he nor no man shulde not misdeme In worde nor dede nedeth hym not be coye It is impossible that he do amysse If the yonge mā speke anone he sayeth boye To rebuke age besemeth the not ywys Thus hys olde face aye hys warant is Al is in hym sleyght and subtylte And ferre from reason I tel the And shortly age is not aboue me Age is impotent and of no resistence Age vnweldy may not fyght nor flye what were age wythout my defence Sad counsayle sayst gyueth hym assistence Reason is freshest where that I ame wherfore in thy sayeng thou art to blame Syth reason to me is rather acompanyed Than vnto age whyche is the opinyon Of euery wyse man not to be denyed And syth sad counsayle procedeth of reason Sad coūsaile in me hath his chefe mancion Thys is no naye but what is the ende Of thys thy suasion what doest entende Age to compare vnto thyne excellence I nyl presume hym so to dignifye Ye be not egal howe be it experience Him auauntageth for she most certaynly Him teacheth what thyng to him is cōtrary And oft to fore se it and warely eschewe which thou neuer assaydest yet nor knewe Experience maketh a man moost certayne Of any thyng erthly and of necessite Sad counsayle requyreth certaynte playne So ferre to moue thus wherto nede we But to my purpose as thou cōmaundest me Shortly myne entente is thus none other Vnder thy licence to counsayle my brother Howe shuldest gyue any counsayle so yonge Lacking experience vnto thyne owne speche I reporte me I wote wel as for thy tonge wyl serue the right wel but than for to teche I dout me lest that thy wytte wol not reche Youth experience thou sayest be not cōuert Howe shuldest than teach◠wel vnexpert Scripture wytnesseth that god wyl oft shyt Fro the hye witted man shew it to y e childe To hym I meane that of hys owne wyt Presumeth not but is debonayre mylde By counsayle I entende vertue for to bylde which of myne elders part haue I borowed part of experience which I haue sorowed wel than yf it be as thou lettest fare Shewe forth thy doctrine be not agast I wol the supporte loke thou not spare Maugre age though he frete or gnast To aske age counsayle herin were
but wast Boldely begyn go forth to thy processe Feare not syth thou arte of such surenesse Graunt mercy lorde syth it the doth lyke To licence me nowe I wol and dare boldly Assayle my purpose w t scriptures autentike My werke wol I grouÌ„d vnderset fortify Aspire my begynnyng O thou woode fury Allecto wyth thy susters and in espicial To the mother of ielousye Iuno I call ¶ Explicit prologus THis werke who so shall se or rede Of any incongruite do me not impeche Ordinatly behoueth me fyrst to procede In deduction thereof in maner as the leche His pacieÌ„tes syckenes oweth first for to sech The which knoweÌ„ medicyne he shulde aply And shortly as he can than shape a remedy Ryght so by couÌ„sayle wyllyng the to exhort O yong maÌ„ prosperous which doth abouÌ„de In thy floures of lust belongeth on the sorte Me fyrst to coÌ„sider what is roote grounde Of thy mischefe whiche is playnly founde woman farced wyth fraude and disceyte To thy confusyon moost allectyue bayte Flye the miswoman lest she the disceyue thus sayth SalomoÌ„ which tauÈt was fully the falsheed of womeÌ„ in his daies to coÌ„ceyue The lippes of a struÌ„pet ben sweter thaÌ„ hony Her throte he saith suppled w t oyle of flatery Howe be it the ende and effecte of al Byttrer is than any wormwode or gall Flye the miswoman louyng thy lyfe ware the straungers blande eloquence Straunge I cal her that is not thy wyfe Of her beautie haue me no concupiscence Her countenaunce pretendyng beneuolence Beware her signes and eye so amiable Holde it for ferme they bene disceyuable Lo an ensample what women be In theyr signes and countenaunce shortly I wol shewe the howe louers thre Loued one woman ryght entierly Eche of them knewe others malady wherfore was al theyr dayly labour who coude appproche next in her fauour At sondrye seasons as fortune requyreth Seuerally they came to se her welfare But ones it hapened loue them so fyreth To se theyr lady they al wolde not spare Of others comyng none of them were ware Tyl al they mette where as they in place Of her lady sawe the desyred face To supper sette ful smally they ete Full sobre and demure in countenaunce For there taryed none of hem for any mete But on hys lady to gyue attendaunce And in secrete wyse some signifyaunce Of loue to haue whych parceyuyng she Fetely executed thus her properte In due season as she alway espyed Euery thyng to execute conueniently Her owne louer fyrst frendly she eyed The seconde she offred the cuppe curtesly The thyrde she gaue token secretly Vnderneth the borde she trade on hys fote Through his entrayles tikled the herte rote By your leue myght I here aske a question Of you my maystres that fewe louers trace To you lykely belongeth the solucion whych of these thre stode nowe in grace Clerely to answere ye wold aske long space The mater is doutful and opinable To acertayne you I woll my selfe enable Of the foresayd thre my selfe was one No man can answere it better than I Hertely of vs beloued was there none But wattes packe we bare al by and by whych at the last I my selfe gan aspye And time as me thouÈt thaÌ„ I left the dauÌ„ce O thoughtful hert great is thy greuaunce Hence fro me hence that me for to endyte Halpe aye here afore O ye muses nyne whyloÌ„ ye were wont to be mine ayde light My penne to directe my brayne to illumyne No lenger alas may I sewe your doctrine The freshe lusty meters y t I wont to make Haue bene here afore I vtterly forsake Come hyther thou Hermes and ye furies al which fer ben vnder vs nigh the nether pole where Pluto reigneth O kyng infernal Send out thine arpies send anguysh dole Misery and wo leaue ye me not sole Of right be present must paine eke turmeÌ„t The pale deth besemeth not to be absent To me nowe I cal al thys lothsome sorte my paines tencrese my sorowes to augmeÌ„t For worthy I am to be bare of al comforte Thus syth I haue consumed and mispent Not only my daies but my fiuefolde talent y t my lorde coÌ„mitted me I can not recoÌ„pence I may not to derely abye my negligence By the path of penaunce yet wol I reuert To the welle of grace mercy there to fetche Dispisest not god the meke contrite hert Of the cocke crow alas y t I wolde not retch And yet it is not late in the seconde wetche Mercy shal I purchace by incessaunt crieng The mercyes of our lorde euer shal I syng But well mayst thou wayle wicked woman that thou shuldest disceyue thus any innoceÌ„t And in recompence of my synne so as I can To al meÌ„ wol I make leue this monumeÌ„t in shewing part of thy falsheed is myn enteÌ„t For al were to much I can not wel I wote The cause sheweth playnly he y t thus wrote If al the erth were parchement scribable Spedy for the hande and al maner wode were hewed proporcioned to pennes able Al water ynke in damme or in flode Euery man beyng a perfyte scribe good The cursednesse yet and disceyte of women Coude not be shewed by the meane of penne I flye at odyous resemblaunces The dyuels bronde cal women I myght wherby man is encensed to mischaunce Or a stynkyng rose that fayre is in syght Or deedly empoyson lyke the suger whyte whych by hys swetnesse causeth man to tast and sodaynly sleeth briÌ„geth him to his last It is not my maner to vse such langage But thys my doctrine as I may laufully I wol holy grounde wyth auctoritie sage wyllynge both wysdom and vertue edify wyne and women in to apostasy Cause wyse men to fall what is that to say Of wysdome cause them to forget the way wherfore the wyse man dothe the aduyse In whose wordes can be founde no leasyng wyth the straunger to sytte in no wyse which is not thy wyfe fal not in clyppyng wyth her but beware eke of her kyssyng kepe wyth her in wyne no altercacion Lest that thyne hert fal by enclination May a man thynkest hyde and safe lay Fyre in his bosom wythout enpayrement breÌ„nynge of his clothes or wheder he may walke on hotte coles his fete not brent As who sayth nay and wherby is ment Thys foresayd prouerbe and similitude But that thou rydde the playnly to denude From the flatterers forgettynge her gyde The gyde of her youth I meane shaÌ„fastnes which shulde cause her maydenheed to abide Her goddes behest eke she ful rechelesse Not retchyng coÌ„mitteth it to forgetfulnesse Neyther god ne shame in her hauynge place Nedes must such a woman lacke grace And al that neygh her in way of syn To turne of grace shal lacke the influence The pathes of lyfe no more to come in wherfore fyrst frende the wyth sapience Remembring god and after with prudence To thyne owne wele that