Confessio Amantis - Tales Of The Seven Deadly Sins, 1330-1408 A.D. - Incipit Liber Quintus

Obstat auaricia nature legibus, et que     Largus amor poscit, striccius illa vetat.     Omne quod est nimium viciosum dicitur aurum,     Vellera sicut oues, seruat auarus opes.     Non decet vt soli seruabitur es, set amori     Debet homo solam solus habere suam.     Ferst whan the hyhe god began     This world, and that the kinde of man     Was falle into no gret encress,     For worldes good tho was no press,     Bot al was set to the comune.     Thei spieken thanne of no fortune     Or forto lese or forto winne,     Til Avarice broghte it inne;     And that was whan the world was woxe     Of man, of hors, of Schep, of Oxe,        10     And that men knewen the moneie.     Tho wente pes out of the weie     And werre cam on every side,     Which alle love leide aside     And of comun his propre made,     So that in stede of schovele and spade     The scharpe swerd was take on honde;     And in this wise it cam to londe,     Wherof men maden dyches depe     And hyhe walles forto kepe     20     The gold which Avarice encloseth.     Bot al to lytel him supposeth,     Thogh he mihte al the world pourchace;     For what thing that he may embrace     Of gold, of catel or of lond,     He let it nevere out of his hond,     Bot get him more and halt it faste,     As thogh the world scholde evere laste.     So is he lych unto the helle;     For as these olde bokes telle,    30     What comth therinne, lasse or more,     It schal departe neveremore:     Thus whanne he hath his cofre loken,     It schal noght after ben unstoken,     Bot whanne him list to have a syhte     Of gold, hou that it schyneth brihte,     That he ther on mai loke and muse;     For otherwise he dar noght use     To take his part, or lasse or more.     So is he povere, and everemore    40     Him lacketh that he hath ynowh:     An Oxe draweth in the plowh,     Of that himself hath no profit;     A Schep riht in the same plit     His wolle berth, bot on a day     An other takth the flees away:     Thus hath he, that he noght ne hath,     For he therof his part ne tath.     To seie hou such a man hath good,     Who so that reson understod,        50     It is impropreliche seid,     For good hath him and halt him teid,     That he ne gladeth noght withal,     Bot is unto his good a thral,     And as soubgit thus serveth he,     Wher that he scholde maister be:     Such is the kinde of thaverous.     Mi Sone, as thou art amerous,     Tell if thou farst of love so.     Mi fader, as it semeth, no;    60     That averous yit nevere I was,     So as ye setten me the cas:     For as ye tolden here above,     In full possession of love     Yit was I nevere hier tofore,     So that me thenketh wel therfore,     I mai excuse wel my dede.     Bot of mi will withoute drede,     If I that tresor mihte gete,     It scholde nevere be foryete,     70     That I ne wolde it faste holde,     Til god of love himselve wolde     That deth ous scholde part atuo.     For lieveth wel, I love hire so,     That evene with min oghne lif,     If I that swete lusti wif     Mihte ones welden at my wille,     For evere I wolde hire holde stille:     And in this wise, taketh kepe,     If I hire hadde, I wolde hire kepe,     80     And yit no friday wolde I faste,     Thogh I hire kepte and hielde faste.     Fy on the bagges in the kiste!     I hadde ynogh, if I hire kiste.     For certes, if sche were myn,     I hadde hir levere than a Myn     Of Gold; for al this worldesriche     Ne mihte make me so riche     As sche, that is so inly good.     I sette noght of other good;        90     For mihte I gete such a thing,     I hadde a tresor for a king;     And thogh I wolde it faste holde,     I were thanne wel beholde.     Bot I mot pipe nou with lasse,     And suffre that it overpasse,     Noght with mi will, for thus I wolde     Ben averous, if that I scholde.     Bot, fader, I you herde seie     Hou thaverous hath yit som weie,     100     Wherof he mai be glad; for he     Mai whanne him list his tresor se,     And grope and fiele it al aboute,     Bot I fulofte am schet theroute,     Ther as my worthi tresor is.     So is mi lif lich unto this,     That ye me tolden hier tofore,     Hou that an Oxe his yock hath bore     For thing that scholde him noght availe:     And in this wise I me travaile;        110     For who that evere hath the welfare,     I wot wel that I have the care,     For I am hadd and noght ne have,     And am, as who seith, loves knave.     Nou demeth in youre oghne thoght,     If this be Avarice or noght.     Mi Sone, I have of thee no wonder,     Thogh thou to serve be put under     With love, which to kinde acordeth:     Bot, so as every bok recordeth,        120     It is to kinde no plesance     That man above his sustienance     Unto the gold schal serve and bowe,     For that mai no reson avowe.     Bot Avarice natheles,     If he mai geten his encress     Of gold, that wole he serve and kepe,     For he takth of noght elles kepe,     Bot forto fille hise bagges large;     And al is to him bot a charge,    130     For he ne parteth noght withal,     Bot kepth it, as a servant schal:     And thus, thogh that he multeplie     His gold, withoute tresorie     He is, for man is noght amended     With gold, bot if it be despended     To mannes us; wherof I rede     A tale, and tak therof good hiede,     Of that befell be olde tyde,     As telleth ous the clerk Ovide.        140     Bachus, which is the god of wyn,     Acordant unto his divin     A Prest, the which Cillenus hihte,     He hadde, and fell so that be nyhte     This Prest was drunke and goth astraied,     Wherof the men were evele apaied     In Frigelond, where as he wente.     Bot ate laste a cherl him hente     With strengthe of other felaschipe,     So that upon his drunkeschipe     150     Thei bounden him with chenes faste,     And forth thei ladde him als so faste     Unto the king, which hihte Myde.     Bot he, that wolde his vice hyde,     This courteis king, tok of him hiede,     And bad that men him scholde lede     Into a chambre forto kepe,     Til he of leisir hadde slepe.     And tho this Prest was sone unbounde,     And up a couche fro the grounde        160     To slepe he was leid softe ynowh;     And whanne he wok, the king him drowh     To his presence and dede him chiere,     So that this Prest in such manere,     Whil that him liketh, there he duelleth:     And al this he to Bachus telleth,     Whan that he cam to him ayein.     And whan that Bachus herde sein     How Mide hath don his courtesie,     Him thenkth it were a vilenie,    170     Bot he rewarde him for his dede,     So as he mihte of his godhiede.     Unto this king this god appiereth     And clepeth, and that other hiereth:     This god to Mide thonketh faire     Of that he was so debonaire     Toward his Prest, and bad him seie:     What thing it were he wolde preie,     He scholde it have, of worldes good.     This king was glad, and stille stod,    180     And was of his axinge in doute,     And al the world he caste aboute,     What thing was best for his astat,     And with himself stod in debat     Upon thre pointz, the whiche I finde     Ben lievest unto mannes kinde.     The ferste of hem it is delit,     The tuo ben worschipe and profit.     And thanne he thoghte, "If that I crave     Delit, thogh I delit mai have,    190     Delit schal passen in myn age:     That is no siker avantage,     For every joie bodily     Schal ende in wo: delit forthi     Wol I noght chese. And if worschipe     I axe and of the world lordschipe,     That is an occupacion     Of proud ymaginacion,     Which makth an herte vein withinne;     Ther is no certain forto winne,        200     For lord and knave al is o weie,     Whan thei be bore and whan thei deie.     And if I profit axe wolde,     I not in what manere I scholde     Of worldes good have sikernesse;     For every thief upon richesse     Awaiteth forto robbe and stele:     Such good is cause of harmes fele.     And also, thogh a man at ones     Of al the world withinne his wones        210     The tresor myhte have everydel,     Yit hadde he bot o mannes del     Toward himself, so as I thinke,     Of clothinge and of mete and drinke,     For more, outake vanite,     Ther hath no lord in his degre."     And thus upon the pointz diverse     Diverseliche he gan reherce     What point him thoghte for the beste;     Bot pleinly forto gete him reste     220     He can so siker weie caste.     And natheles yit ate laste     He fell upon the coveitise     Of gold; and thanne in sondri wise     He thoghte, as I have seid tofore,     Hou tresor mai be sone lore,     And hadde an inly gret desir     Touchende of such recoverir,     Hou that he mihte his cause availe     To gete him gold withoute faile.     230     Withinne his herte and thus he preiseth     The gold, and seith hou that it peiseth     Above al other metall most:     "The gold," he seith, "may lede an host     To make werre ayein a King;     The gold put under alle thing,     And set it whan him list above;     The gold can make of hate love     And werre of pes and ryht of wrong,     And long to schort and schort to long;     240     Withoute gold mai be no feste,     Gold is the lord of man and beste,     And mai hem bothe beie and selle;     So that a man mai sothly telle     That al the world to gold obeieth."     Forthi this king to Bachus preieth     To grante him gold, bot he excedeth     Mesure more than him nedeth.     Men tellen that the maladie     Which cleped is ydropesie        250     Resembled is unto this vice     Be weie of kinde of Avarice:     The more ydropesie drinketh,     The more him thursteth, for him thinketh     That he mai nevere drinke his fille;     So that ther mai nothing fulfille     The lustes of his appetit:     And riht in such a maner plit     Stant Avarice and evere stod;     The more he hath of worldes good,    260     The more he wolde it kepe streyte,     And evere mor and mor coveite.     And riht in such condicioun     Withoute good discrecioun     This king with avarice is smite,     That al the world it myhte wite:     For he to Bachus thanne preide,     That wherupon his hond he leide,     It scholde thurgh his touche anon     Become gold, and therupon        270     This god him granteth as he bad.     Tho was this king of Frige glad,     And forto put it in assai     With al the haste that he mai,     He toucheth that, he toucheth this,     And in his hond al gold it is,     The Ston, the Tree, the Lef, the gras,     The flour, the fruit, al gold it was.     Thus toucheth he, whil he mai laste     To go, bot hunger ate laste    280     Him tok, so that he moste nede     Be weie of kinde his hunger fede.     The cloth was leid, the bord was set,     And al was forth tofore him fet,     His disch, his coppe, his drinke, his mete;     Bot whanne he wolde or drinke or ete,     Anon as it his mouth cam nyh,     It was al gold, and thanne he syh     Of Avarice the folie.     And he with that began to crie,        290     And preide Bachus to foryive     His gilt, and soffre him forto live     And be such as he was tofore,     So that he were not forlore.     This god, which herde of his grevance,     Tok rowthe upon his repentance,     And bad him go forth redily     Unto a flod was faste by,     Which Paceole thanne hyhte,     In which as clene as evere he myhte     300     He scholde him waisshen overal,     And seide him thanne that he schal     Recovere his ferste astat ayein.     This king, riht as he herde sein,     Into the flod goth fro the lond,     And wissh him bothe fot and hond,     And so forth al the remenant,     As him was set in covenant:     And thanne he syh merveilles strange,     The flod his colour gan to change,        310     The gravel with the smale Stones     To gold thei torne bothe at ones,     And he was quit of that he hadde,     And thus fortune his chance ladde.     And whan he sih his touche aweie,     He goth him hom the rihte weie     And liveth forth as he dede er,     And putte al Avarice afer,     And the richesse of gold despiseth,     And seith that mete and cloth sufficeth.        320     Thus hath this king experience     Hou foles don the reverence     To gold, which of his oghne kinde     Is lasse worth than is the rinde     To sustienance of mannes fode;     And thanne he made lawes goode     And al his thing sette upon skile:     He bad his poeple forto tile     Here lond, and live under the lawe,     And that thei scholde also forthdrawe        330     Bestaile, and seche non encress     Of gold, which is the breche of pes.     For this a man mai finde write,     Tofor the time, er gold was smite     In Coign, that men the florin knewe,     Ther was welnyh noman untrewe;     Tho was ther nouther schield ne spere     Ne dedly wepne forto bere;     Tho was the toun withoute wal,     Which nou is closed overal;    340     Tho was ther no brocage in londe,     Which nou takth every cause on honde:     So mai men knowe, hou the florin     Was moder ferst of malengin     And bringere inne of alle werre,     Wherof this world stant out of herre     Thurgh the conseil of Avarice,     Which of his oghne propre vice     Is as the helle wonderfull;     For it mai neveremor be full,     350     That what as evere comth therinne,     Awey ne may it nevere winne.     Bot Sone myn, do thou noght so,     Let al such Avarice go,     And tak thi part of that thou hast:     I bidde noght that thou do wast,     Bot hold largesce in his mesure;     And if thou se a creature,     Which thurgh poverte is falle in nede,     Yif him som good, for this I rede    360     To him that wol noght yiven here,     What peine he schal have elleswhere.     Ther is a peine amonges alle     Benethe in helle, which men calle     The wofull peine of Tantaly,     Of which I schal thee redely     Devise hou men therinne stonde.     In helle, thou schalt understonde,     Ther is a flod of thilke office,     Which serveth al for Avarice:     370     What man that stonde schal therinne,     He stant up evene unto the chinne;     Above his hed also ther hongeth     A fruyt, which to that peine longeth,     And that fruit toucheth evere in on     His overlippe: and therupon     Swich thurst and hunger him assaileth,     That nevere his appetit ne faileth.     Bot whanne he wolde his hunger fede,     The fruit withdrawth him ate nede,        380     And thogh he heve his hed on hyh,     The fruit is evere aliche nyh,     So is the hunger wel the more:     And also, thogh him thurste sore     And to the water bowe a doun,     The flod in such condicioun     Avaleth, that his drinke areche     He mai noght. Lo nou, which a wreche,     That mete and drinke is him so couth,     And yit ther comth non in his mouth!    390     Lich to the peines of this flod     Stant Avarice in worldes good:     He hath ynowh and yit him nedeth,     For his skarsnesse it him forbiedeth,     And evere his hunger after more     Travaileth him aliche sore,     So is he peined overal.     Forthi thi goodes forth withal,     Mi Sone, loke thou despende,     Wherof thou myht thiself amende        400     Bothe hier and ek in other place.     And also if thou wolt pourchace     To be beloved, thou most use     Largesce, for if thou refuse     To yive for thi loves sake,     It is no reson that thou take     Of love that thou woldest crave.     Forthi, if thou wolt grace have,     Be gracious and do largesse,     Of Avarice and the seknesse    410     Eschuie above alle other thing,     And tak ensample of Mide king     And of the flod of helle also,     Where is ynowh of alle wo.     And thogh ther were no matiere     Bot only that we finden hiere,     Men oghten Avarice eschuie;     For what man thilke vice suie,     He get himself bot litel reste.     For hou so that the body reste,        420     The herte upon the gold travaileth,     Whom many a nyhtes drede assaileth;     For thogh he ligge abedde naked,     His herte is everemore awaked,     And dremeth, as he lith to slepe,     How besi that he is to kepe     His tresor, that no thief it stele.     Thus hath he bot a woful wele.     And riht so in the same wise,     If thou thiself wolt wel avise,        430     Ther be lovers of suche ynowe,     That wole unto no reson bowe.     If so be that thei come above,     Whan thei ben maistres of here love,     And that thei scholden be most glad,     With love thei ben most bestad,     So fain thei wolde it holden al.     Here herte, here yhe is overal,     And wenen every man be thief,     To stele awey that hem is lief;        440     Thus thurgh here oghne fantasie     Thei fallen into Jelousie.     Thanne hath the Schip tobroke his cable,     With every wynd and is muable.     Mi fader, for that ye nou telle,     I have herd ofte time telle     Of Jelousie, bot what it is     Yit understod I nevere er this:     Wherfore I wolde you beseche,     That ye me wolde enforme and teche        450     What maner thing it mihte be.     Mi Sone, that is hard to me:     Bot natheles, as I have herd,     Now herkne and thou schalt ben ansuerd.     Among the men lacke of manhode     In Mariage upon wifhode     Makth that a man himself deceiveth,     Wherof it is that he conceiveth     That ilke unsely maladie,     The which is cleped Jelousie:     460     Of which if I the proprete     Schal telle after the nycete,     So as it worcheth on a man,     A Fievere it is cotidian,     Which every day wol come aboute,     Wher so a man be inne or oute.     At hom if that a man wol wone,     This Fievere is thanne of comun wone     Most grevous in a mannes yhe:     For thanne he makth him tote and pryhe,    470     Wher so as evere his love go;     Sche schal noght with hir litel too     Misteppe, bot he se it al.     His yhe is walkende overal;     Wher that sche singe or that sche dance,     He seth the leste contienance,     If sche loke on a man aside     Or with him roune at eny tyde,     Or that sche lawghe, or that sche loure,     His yhe is ther at every houre.        480     And whanne it draweth to the nyht,     If sche thanne is withoute lyht,     Anon is al the game schent;     For thanne he set his parlement     To speke it whan he comth to bedde,     And seith, "If I were now to wedde,     I wolde neveremore have wif."     And so he torneth into strif     The lust of loves duete,     And al upon diversete.        490     If sche be freissh and wel araied,     He seith hir baner is displaied     To clepe in gestes fro the weie:     And if sche be noght wel beseie,     And that hir list noght to be gladd,     He berth an hond that sche is madd     And loveth noght hire housebonde;     He seith he mai wel understonde,     That if sche wolde his compaignie,     Sche scholde thanne afore his ije    500     Schewe al the plesir that sche mihte.     So that be daie ne be nyhte     Sche not what thing is for the beste,     Bot liveth out of alle reste;     For what as evere him liste sein,     Sche dar noght speke a word ayein,     Bot wepth and holt hire lippes clos.     Sche mai wel wryte, "Sanz repos,"     The wif which is to such on maried.     Of alle wommen be he waried,        510     For with this Fievere of Jalousie     His echedaies fantasie     Of sorghe is evere aliche grene,     So that ther is no love sene,     Whil that him list at hom abyde.     And whan so is he wol out ryde,     Thanne hath he redi his aspie     Abidinge in hir compaignie,     A janglere, an evel mouthed oon,     That sche ne mai nowhider gon,    520     Ne speke a word, ne ones loke,     That he ne wol it wende and croke     And torne after his oghne entente,     Thogh sche nothing bot honour mente.     Whan that the lord comth hom ayein,     The janglere moste somwhat sein;     So what withoute and what withinne,     This Fievere is evere to beginne,     For where he comth he can noght ende,     Til deth of him have mad an ende.    530     For thogh so be that he ne hiere     Ne se ne wite in no manere     Bot al honour and wommanhiede,     Therof the Jelous takth non hiede,     Bot as a man to love unkinde,     He cast his staf, as doth the blinde,     And fint defaulte where is non;     As who so dremeth on a Ston     Hou he is leid, and groneth ofte,     Whan he lith on his pilwes softe.    540     So is ther noght bot strif and cheste;     Whan love scholde make his feste,     It is gret thing if he hir kisse:     Thus hath sche lost the nyhtes blisse,     For at such time he gruccheth evere     And berth on hond ther is a levere,     And that sche wolde an other were     In stede of him abedde there;     And with tho wordes and with mo     Of Jelousie, he torneth fro    550     And lith upon his other side,     And sche with that drawth hire aside,     And ther sche wepeth al the nyht.     Ha, to what peine sche is dyht,     That in hire youthe hath so beset     The bond which mai noght ben unknet!     I wot the time is ofte cursed,     That evere was the gold unpursed,     The which was leid upon the bok,     Whan that alle othre sche forsok     560     For love of him; bot al to late     Sche pleigneth, for as thanne algate     Sche mot forbere and to him bowe,     Thogh he ne wole it noght allowe.     For man is lord of thilke feire,     So mai the womman bot empeire,     If sche speke oght ayein his wille;     And thus sche berth hir peine stille.     Bot if this Fievere a womman take,     Sche schal be wel mor harde schake;     570     For thogh sche bothe se and hiere,     And finde that ther is matiere,     Sche dar bot to hirselve pleine,     And thus sche suffreth double peine.     Lo thus, mi Sone, as I have write,     Thou miht of Jelousie wite     His fievere and his condicion,     Which is full of suspecion.     Bot wherof that this fievere groweth,     Who so these olde bokes troweth,     580     Ther mai he finden hou it is:     For thei ous teche and telle this,     Hou that this fievere of Jelousie     Somdel it groweth of sotie     Of love, and somdiel of untrust.     For as a sek man lest his lust,     And whan he may no savour gete,     He hateth thanne his oughne mete,     Riht so this fieverous maladie,     Which caused is of fantasie,        590     Makth the Jelous in fieble plit     To lese of love his appetit     Thurgh feigned enformacion     Of his ymaginacion.     Bot finali to taken hiede,     Men mai wel make a liklihiede     Betwen him which is averous     Of gold and him that is jelous     Of love, for in on degre     Thei stonde bothe, as semeth me.     600     That oon wolde have his bagges stille,     And noght departen with his wille,     And dar noght for the thieves slepe,     So fain he wolde his tresor kepe;     That other mai noght wel be glad,     For he is evere more adrad     Of these lovers that gon aboute,     In aunter if thei putte him oute.     So have thei bothe litel joye     As wel of love as of monoie.        610     Now hast thou, Sone, at my techinge     Of Jelousie a knowlechinge,     That thou myht understonde this,     Fro whenne he comth and what he is,     And ek to whom that he is lik.     Be war forthi thou be noght sik     Of thilke fievere as I have spoke,     For it wol in himself be wroke.     For love hateth nothing more,     As men mai finde be the lore        620     Of hem that whilom were wise,     Hou that thei spieke in many wise.     Mi fader, soth is that ye sein.     Bot forto loke therayein,     Befor this time hou it is falle,     Wherof ther mihte ensample falle     To suche men as be jelous     In what manere it is grevous,     Riht fain I wolde ensample hiere.     My goode Sone, at thi preiere     630     Of suche ensamples as I finde,     So as thei comen nou to mynde     Upon this point, of time gon     I thenke forto tellen on.     Ovide wrot of manye thinges,     Among the whiche in his wrytinges     He tolde a tale in Poesie,     Which toucheth unto Jelousie,     Upon a certein cas of love.     Among the goddes alle above    640     It fell at thilke time thus:     The god of fyr, which Vulcanus     Is hote, and hath a craft forthwith     Assigned, forto be the Smith     Of Jupiter, and his figure     Bothe of visage and of stature     Is lothly and malgracious,     Bot yit he hath withinne his hous     As for the likynge of his lif     The faire Venus to his wif.    650     Bot Mars, which of batailles is     The god, an yhe hadde unto this:     As he which was chivalerous,     It fell him to ben amerous,     And thoghte it was a gret pite     To se so lusti on as sche     Be coupled with so lourde a wiht:     So that his peine day and nyht     He dede, if he hire winne myhte;     And sche, which hadde a good insihte    660     Toward so noble a knyhtli lord,     In love fell of his acord.     Ther lacketh noght bot time and place,     That he nys siker of hire grace:     Bot whan tuo hertes falle in on,     So wys await was nevere non,     That at som time thei ne mete;     And thus this faire lusti swete     With Mars hath ofte compaignie.     Bot thilke unkynde Jelousie,        670     Which everemor the herte opposeth,     Makth Vulcanus that he supposeth     That it is noght wel overal,     And to himself he seide, he schal     Aspie betre, if that he may;     And so it fell upon a day,     That he this thing so slyhli ledde,     He fond hem bothe tuo abedde     Al warm, echon with other naked.     And he with craft al redy maked        680     Of stronge chenes hath hem bounde,     As he togedre hem hadde founde,     And lefte hem bothe ligge so,     And gan to clepe and crie tho     Unto the goddes al aboute;     And thei assembled in a route     Come alle at ones forto se.     Bot none amendes hadde he,     Bot was rebuked hiere and there     Of hem that loves frendes were;        690     And seiden that he was to blame,     For if ther fell him eny schame,     It was thurgh his misgovernance:     And thus he loste contienance,     This god, and let his cause falle;     And thei to skorne him lowhen alle,     And losen Mars out of hise bondes.     Wherof these erthli housebondes     For evere myhte ensample take,     If such a chaunce hem overtake:        700     For Vulcanus his wif bewreide,     The blame upon himself he leide,     Wherof his schame was the more;     Which oghte forto ben a lore     For every man that liveth hiere,     To reulen him in this matiere.     Thogh such an happ of love asterte,     Yit scholde he noght apointe his herte     With Jelousie of that is wroght,     Bot feigne, as thogh he wiste it noght:    710     For if he lete it overpasse,     The sclaundre schal be wel the lasse,     And he the more in ese stonde.     For this thou myht wel understonde,     That where a man schal nedes lese,     The leste harm is forto chese.     Bot Jelousie of his untrist     Makth that full many an harm arist,     Which elles scholde noght arise;     And if a man him wolde avise        720     Of that befell to Vulcanus,     Him oghte of reson thenke thus,     That sithe a god therof was schamed,     Wel scholde an erthli man be blamed     To take upon him such a vice.     Forthi, my Sone, in thin office     Be war that thou be noght jelous,     Which ofte time hath schent the hous.     Mi fader, this ensample is hard,     Hou such thing to the heveneward     730     Among the goddes myhte falle:     For ther is bot o god of alle,     Which is the lord of hevene and helle.     Bot if it like you to telle     Hou suche goddes come aplace,     Ye mihten mochel thonk pourchace,     For I schal be wel tawht withal.     Mi Sone, it is thus overal     With hem that stonden misbelieved,     That suche goddes ben believed:        740     In sondri place sondri wise     Amonges hem whiche are unwise     Ther is betaken of credence;     Wherof that I the difference     In the manere as it is write     Schal do the pleinly forto wite.     Er Crist was bore among ous hiere,     Of the believes that tho were     In foure formes thus it was.     Thei of Caldee as in this cas     750     Hadde a believe be hemselve,     Which stod upon the signes tuelve,     Forth ek with the Planetes sevene,     Whiche as thei sihe upon the hevene.     Of sondri constellacion     In here ymaginacion     With sondri kerf and pourtreture     Thei made of goddes the figure.     In thelementz and ek also     Thei hadden a believe tho;             760     And al was that unresonable:     For thelementz ben servicable     To man, and ofte of Accidence,     As men mai se thexperience,     Thei ben corrupt be sondri weie;     So mai no mannes reson seie     That thei ben god in eny wise.     And ek, if men hem wel avise,     The Sonne and Mone eclipse bothe,     That be hem lieve or be hem lothe,        770     Thei soffre; and what thing is passible     To ben a god is impossible.     These elementz ben creatures,     So ben these hevenly figures,     Wherof mai wel be justefied     That thei mai noght be deified:     And who that takth awey thonour     Which due is to the creatour,     And yifth it to the creature,     He doth to gret a forsfaiture.    780     Bot of Caldee natheles     Upon this feith, thogh it be les,     Thei holde affermed the creance;     So that of helle the penance,     As folk which stant out of believe,     They schull receive, as we believe.     Of the Caldeus lo in this wise     Stant the believe out of assisse:     Bot in Egipte worst of alle     The feith is fals, hou so it falle;     790     For thei diverse bestes there     Honoure, as thogh thei goddes were:     And natheles yit forth withal     Thre goddes most in special     Thei have, forth with a goddesse,     In whom is al here sikernesse.     Tho goddes be yit cleped thus,     Orus, Typhon and Isirus:     Thei were brethren alle thre,     And the goddesse in hir degre     800     Here Soster was and Ysis hyhte,     Whom Isirus forlai be nyhte     And hield hire after as his wif.     So it befell that upon strif     Typhon hath Isre his brother slain,     Which hadde a child to Sone Orayn,     And he his fader deth to herte     So tok, that it mai noght asterte     That he Typhon after ne slowh,     Whan he was ripe of age ynowh.    810     Bot yit thegipcienes trowe     For al this errour, which thei knowe,     That these brethren ben of myht     To sette and kepe Egipte upriht,     And overthrowe, if that hem like.     Bot Ysis, as seith the Cronique,     Fro Grece into Egipte cam,     And sche thanne upon honde nam     To teche hem forto sowe and eere,     Which noman knew tofore there.    820     And whan thegipcienes syhe     The fieldes fulle afore here yhe,     And that the lond began to greine,     Which whilom hadde be bareigne,-     For therthe bar after the kinde     His due charge,- this I finde,     That sche of berthe the goddesse     Is cleped, so that in destresse     The wommen there upon childinge     To hire clepe, and here offringe     830     Thei beren, whan that thei ben lyhte.     Lo, hou Egipte al out of syhte     Fro resoun stant in misbelieve     For lacke of lore, as I believe.     Among the Greks, out of the weie     As thei that reson putte aweie,     Ther was, as the Cronique seith,     Of misbelieve an other feith,     That thei here goddes and goddesses,     As who seith, token al to gesses     840     Of suche as weren full of vice,     To whom thei made here sacrifice.     The hihe god, so as thei seide,     To whom thei most worschipe leide,     Saturnus hihte, and king of Crete     He hadde be; bot of his sete     He was put doun, as he which stod     In frenesie, and was so wod,     That fro his wif, which Rea hihte,     Hise oghne children he to plihte,    850     And eet hem of his comun wone.     Bot Jupiter, which was his Sone     And of full age, his fader bond     And kutte of with his oghne hond     Hise genitals, whiche als so faste     Into the depe See he caste;     Wherof the Greks afferme and seie,     Thus whan thei were caste aweie,     Cam Venus forth be weie of kinde.     And of Saturne also I finde    860     How afterward into an yle     This Jupiter him dede exile,     Wher that he stod in gret meschief.     Lo, which a god thei maden chief!     And sithen that such on was he,     Which stod most hihe in his degre     Among the goddes, thou miht knowe,     These othre, that ben more lowe,     Ben litel worth, as it is founde.     For Jupiter was the secounde,     870     Which Juno hadde unto his wif;     And yit a lechour al his lif     He was, and in avouterie     He wroghte many a tricherie;     And for he was so full of vices,     Thei cleped him god of delices:     Of whom, if thou wolt more wite,     Ovide the Poete hath write.     Bot yit here Sterres bothe tuo,     Saturne and Jupiter also,        880     Thei have, althogh thei be to blame,     Attitled to here oghne name.     Mars was an other in that lawe,     The which in Dace was forthdrawe,     Of whom the clerk Vegecius     Wrot in his bok, and tolde thus,     Hou he into Ytaile cam,     And such fortune ther he nam     That he a Maiden hath oppressed,     Which in hire ordre was professed,        890     As sche which was the Prioresse     In Vestes temple the goddesse,     So was sche wel the mor to blame.     Dame Ylia this ladi name     Men clepe, and ek sche was also     The kinges dowhter that was tho,     Which Mynitor be name hihte.     So that ayein the lawes ryhte     Mars thilke time upon hire that     Remus and Romulus begat,    900     Whiche after, whan thei come in Age,     Of knihthode and of vassellage     Ytaile al hol thei overcome     And foundeden the grete Rome;     In Armes and of such emprise     Thei weren, that in thilke wise     Here fader Mars for the mervaile     The god was cleped of bataille.     Thei were his children bothe tuo,     Thurgh hem he tok his name so,    910     Ther was non other cause why:     And yit a Sterre upon the Sky     He hath unto his name applied,     In which that he is signified.     An other god thei hadden eke,     To whom for conseil thei beseke,     The which was brother to Venus,     Appollo men him clepe thus.     He was an Hunte upon the helles,     Ther was with him no vertu elles,    920     Wherof that enye bokes karpe,     Bot only that he couthe harpe;     Which whanne he walked over londe,     Fulofte time he tok on honde,     To gete him with his sustienance,     For lacke of other pourveance.     And otherwhile of his falshede     He feignede him to conne arede     Of thing which after scholde falle;     Wherof among hise sleyhtes alle        930     He hath the lewed folk deceived,     So that the betre he was received.     Lo now, thurgh what creacion     He hath deificacion,     And cleped is the god of wit     To suche as be the foles yit.     An other god, to whom thei soghte,     Mercurie hihte, and him ne roghte     What thing he stal, ne whom he slowh.     Of Sorcerie he couthe ynowh,        940     That whanne he wolde himself transforme,     Fulofte time he tok the forme     Of womman and his oghne lefte;     So dede he wel the more thefte.     A gret spekere in alle thinges     He was also, and of lesinges     An Auctour, that men wiste non     An other such as he was on.     And yit thei maden of this thief     A god, which was unto hem lief,        950     And clepede him in tho believes     The god of Marchantz and of thieves.     Bot yit a sterre upon the hevene     He hath of the planetes sevene.     But Vulcanus, of whom I spak,     He hadde a courbe upon the bak,     And therto he was hepehalt:     Of whom thou understonde schalt,     He was a schrewe in al his youthe,     And he non other vertu couthe     960     Of craft to helpe himselve with,     Bot only that he was a Smith     With Jupiter, which in his forge     Diverse thinges made him forge;     So wot I noght for what desir     Thei clepen him the god of fyr.     King of Cizile Ypolitus     A Sone hadde, and Eolus     He hihte, and of his fader grant     He hield be weie of covenant        970     The governance of every yle     Which was longende unto Cizile,     Of hem that fro the lond forein     Leie open to the wynd al plein.     And fro thilke iles to the londe     Fulofte cam the wynd to honde:     After the name of him forthi     The wyndes cleped Eoli     Tho were, and he the god of wynd.     Lo nou, hou this believe is blynd!        980     The king of Crete Jupiter,     The same which I spak of er,     Unto his brother, which Neptune     Was hote, it list him to comune     Part of his good, so that be Schipe     He mad him strong of the lordschipe     Of al the See in tho parties;     Wher that he wroghte his tyrannyes,     And the strange yles al aboute     He wan, that every man hath doute    990     Upon his marche forto saile;     For he anon hem wolde assaile     And robbe what thing that thei ladden,     His sauf conduit bot if thei hadden.     Wherof the comun vois aros     In every lond, that such a los     He cawhte, al nere it worth a stre,     That he was cleped of the See     The god be name, and yit he is     With hem that so believe amis.    1000     This Neptune ek was thilke also,     Which was the ferste foundour tho     Of noble Troie, and he forthi     Was wel the more lete by.     The loresman of the Schepherdes,     And ek of hem that ben netherdes,     Was of Archade and hihte Pan:     Of whom hath spoke many a man;     For in the wode of Nonarcigne,     Enclosed with the tres of Pigne,     1010     And on the Mont of Parasie     He hadde of bestes the baillie,     And ek benethe in the valleie,     Wher thilke rivere, as men seie,     Which Ladon hihte, made his cours,     He was the chief of governours     Of hem that kepten tame bestes,     Wherof thei maken yit the festes     In the Cite Stinfalides.     And forth withal yit natheles     1020     He tawhte men the forthdrawinge     Of bestaile, and ek the makinge     Of Oxen, and of hors the same,     Hou men hem scholde ryde and tame:     Of foules ek, so as we finde,     Ful many a soubtiel craft of kinde     He fond, which noman knew tofore.     Men dede him worschipe ek therfore,     That he the ferste in thilke lond     Was which the melodie fond     1030     Of Riedes, whan thei weren ripe,     With double pipes forto pipe;     Therof he yaf the ferste lore,     Til afterward men couthe more.     To every craft for mannes helpe     He hadde a redi wit to helpe     Thurgh naturel experience:     And thus the nyce reverence     Of foles, whan that he was ded,     The fot hath torned to the hed,        1040     And clepen him god of nature,     For so thei maden his figure.     An other god, so as thei fiele,     Which Jupiter upon Samele     Begat in his avouterie,     Whom, forto hide his lecherie,     That non therof schal take kepe,     In a Montaigne forto kepe,     Which Dyon hihte and was in Ynde,     He sende, in bokes as I finde:    1050     And he be name Bachus hihte,     Which afterward, whan that he mihte,     A wastour was, and al his rente     In wyn and bordel he despente.     Bot yit, al were he wonder badde,     Among the Greks a name he hadde;     Thei cleped him the god of wyn,     And thus a glotoun was dyvyn.     Ther was yit Esculapius     A godd in thilke time as thus.    1060     His craft stod upon Surgerie,     Bot for the lust of lecherie,     That he to Daires dowhter drowh,     It felle that Jupiter him slowh:     And yit thei made him noght forthi     A god, and was no cause why.     In Rome he was long time also     A god among the Romeins tho;     For, as he seide, of his presence     Ther was destruid a pestilence,        1070     Whan thei to thyle of Delphos wente,     And that Appollo with hem sente     This Esculapius his Sone,     Among the Romeins forto wone.     And there he duelte for a while,     Til afterward into that yle,     Fro whenne he cam, ayein he torneth,     Where al his lyf that he sojorneth     Among the Greks, til that he deide.     And thei upon him thanne leide    1080     His name, and god of medicine     He hatte after that ilke line.     An other god of Hercules     Thei made, which was natheles     A man, bot that he was so strong,     In al this world that brod and long     So myhti was noman as he.     Merveiles tuelve in his degre,     As it was couth in sondri londes,     He dede with hise oghne hondes    1090     Ayein geantz and Monstres bothe,     The whiche horrible were and lothe,     Bot he with strengthe hem overcam:     Wherof so gret a pris he nam,     That thei him clepe amonges alle     The god of strengthe, and to him calle.     And yit ther is no reson inne,     For he a man was full of sinne,     Which proved was upon his ende,     For in a rage himself he brende;     1100     And such a cruel mannes dede     Acordeth nothing with godhede.     Thei hadde of goddes yit an other,     Which Pluto hihte, and was the brother     Of Jupiter, and he fro youthe     With every word which cam to mouthe,     Of eny thing whan he was wroth,     He wolde swere his commun oth,     Be Lethen and be Flegeton,     Be Cochitum and Acheron,    1110     The whiche, after the bokes telle,     Ben the chief flodes of the helle:     Be Segne and Stige he swor also,     That ben the depe Pettes tuo     Of helle the most principal.     Pluto these othes overal     Swor of his commun custummance,     Til it befell upon a chance,     That he for Jupiteres sake     Unto the goddes let do make    1120     A sacrifice, and for that dede     On of the pettes for his mede     In helle, of which I spak of er,     Was granted him; and thus he ther     Upon the fortune of this thing     The name tok of helle king.     Lo, these goddes and wel mo     Among the Greks thei hadden tho,     And of goddesses manyon,     Whos names thou schalt hiere anon,        1130     And in what wise thei deceiven     The foles whiche here feith receiven.     So as Saturne is soverein     Of false goddes, as thei sein,     So is Sibeles of goddesses     The Moder, whom withoute gesses     The folk Payene honoure and serve,     As thei the whiche hire lawe observe.     Bot forto knowen upon this     Fro when sche cam and what sche is,     1140     Bethincia the contre hihte,     Wher sche cam ferst to mannes sihte;     And after was Saturnes wif,     Be whom thre children in hire lif     Sche bar, and thei were cleped tho     Juno, Neptunus and Pluto,     The whiche of nyce fantasie     The poeple wolde deifie.     And for hire children were so,     Sibeles thanne was also     1150     Mad a goddesse, and thei hire calle     The moder of the goddes alle.     So was that name bore forth,     And yit the cause is litel worth.     A vois unto Saturne tolde     Hou that his oghne Sone him scholde     Out of his regne putte aweie;     And he be cause of thilke weie,     That him was schape such a fate,     Sibele his wif began to hate                1160     And ek hire progenie bothe.     And thus, whil that thei were wrothe,     Be Philerem upon a dai     In his avouterie he lai,     On whom he Jupiter begat;     And thilke child was after that     Which wroghte al that was prophecied,     As it tofore is specefied:     So that whan Jupiter of Crete     Was king, a wif unto him mete     1170     The Dowhter of Sibele he tok,     And that was Juno, seith the bok.     Of his deificacion     After the false oppinion,     That have I told, so as thei meene;     And for this Juno was the queene     Of Jupiter and Soster eke,     The foles unto hire sieke,     And sein that sche is the goddesse     Of Regnes bothe and of richesse:     1180     And ek sche, as thei understonde,     The water Nimphes hath in honde     To leden at hire oghne heste;     And whan hir list the Sky tempeste,     The reinbowe is hir Messager.     Lo, which a misbelieve is hier!     That sche goddesse is of the Sky     I wot non other cause why.     An other goddesse is Minerve,     To whom the Greks obeie and serve:        1190     And sche was nyh the grete lay     Of Triton founde, wher sche lay     A child forcast, bot what sche was     Ther knew noman the sothe cas.     Bot in Aufrique sche was leid     In the manere as I have seid,     And caried fro that ilke place     Into an Yle fer in Trace,     The which Palene thanne hihte,     Wher a Norrice hir kepte and dihte.     1200     And after, for sche was so wys     That sche fond ferst in hire avis     The cloth makinge of wolle and lyn,     Men seiden that sche was divin,     And the goddesse of Sapience     Thei clepen hire in that credence.     Of the goddesse which Pallas     Is cleped sondri speche was.     On seith hire fader was Pallant,     Which in his time was geant,        1210     A cruel man, a bataillous:     An other seith hou in his hous     Sche was the cause why he deide.     And of this Pallas some ek seide     That sche was Martes wif; and so     Among the men that weren tho     Of misbelieve in the riote     The goddesse of batailles hote     She was, and yit sche berth the name.     Now loke, hou they be forto blame.        1220     Saturnus after his exil     Fro Crete cam in gret peril     Into the londes of Ytaile,     And ther he dede gret mervaile,     Wherof his name duelleth yit.     For he fond of his oghne wit     The ferste craft of plowh tilinge,     Of Eringe and of corn sowinge,     And how men scholden sette vines     And of the grapes make wynes;     1230     Al this he tawhte, and it fell so,     His wif, the which cam with him tho,     Was cleped Cereres be name,     And for sche tawhte also the same,     And was his wif that ilke throwe,     As it was to the poeple knowe,     Thei made of Ceres a goddesse,     In whom here tilthe yit thei blesse,     And sein that Tricolonius     Hire Sone goth amonges ous     1240     And makth the corn good chep or dere,     Riht as hire list fro yer to yeere;     So that this wif be cause of this     Goddesse of Cornes cleped is.     King Jupiter, which his likinge     Whilom fulfelde in alle thinge,     So priveliche aboute he ladde     His lust, that he his wille hadde     Of Latona, and on hire that     Diane his dowhter he begat     1250     Unknowen of his wif Juno.     And afterward sche knew it so,     That Latona for drede fledde     Into an Ile, wher sche hedde     Hire wombe, which of childe aros.     Thilke yle cleped was Delos;     In which Diana was forthbroght,     And kept so that hire lacketh noght.     And after, whan sche was of Age,     Sche tok non hiede of mariage,    1260     Bot out of mannes compaignie     Sche tok hire al to venerie     In forest and in wildernesse     For ther was al hire besinesse     Be daie and ek be nyhtes tyde     With arwes brode under the side     And bowe in honde, of which sche slowh     And tok al that hir liste ynowh     Of bestes whiche ben chacable:     Wherof the Cronique of this fable    1270     Seith that the gentils most of alle     Worschipen hire and to hire calle,     And the goddesse of hihe helles,     Of grene trees, of freisshe welles,     They clepen hire in that believe,     Which that no reson mai achieve.     Proserpina, which dowhter was     Of Cereres, befell this cas:     Whil sche was duellinge in Cizile,     Hire moder in that ilke while     1280     Upon hire blessinge and hire heste     Bad that sche scholde ben honeste,     And lerne forto weve and spinne,     And duelle at hom and kepe hire inne.     Bot sche caste al that lore aweie,     And as sche wente hir out to pleie,     To gadre floures in a pleine,     And that was under the monteine     Of Ethna, fell the same tyde     That Pluto cam that weie ryde,    1290     And sodeinly, er sche was war,     He tok hire up into his char.     And as thei riden in the field,     Hire grete beaute he behield,     Which was so plesant in his ije,     That forto holde in compainie     He weddeth hire and hield hire so     To ben his wif for everemo.     And as thou hast tofore herd telle     Hou he was cleped god of helle,        1300     So is sche cleped the goddesse     Be cause of him, ne mor ne lesse.     Lo, thus, mi Sone, as I thee tolde,     The Greks whilom be daies olde     Here goddes hadde in sondri wise,     And thurgh the lore of here aprise     The Romeins hielden ek the same.     And in the worschipe of here name     To every godd in special     Thei made a temple forth withal,     1310     And ech of hem his yeeres dai     Attitled hadde; and of arai     The temples weren thanne ordeigned,     And ek the poeple was constreigned     To come and don here sacrifice;     The Prestes ek in here office     Solempne maden thilke festes.     And thus the Greks lich to the bestes     The men in stede of god honoure,     Whiche mihten noght hemself socoure,    1320     Whil that thei were alyve hiere.     And over this, as thou schalt hiere,     The Greks fulfild of fantasie     Sein ek that of the helles hihe     The goddes ben in special,     Bot of here name in general     Thei hoten alle Satiri.     Ther ben of Nimphes proprely     In the believe of hem also:     Oreades thei seiden tho     1330     Attitled ben to the monteines;     And for the wodes in demeynes     To kepe, tho ben Driades;     Of freisshe welles Naiades;     And of the Nimphes of the See     I finde a tale in proprete,     Hou Dorus whilom king of Grece,     Which hadde of infortune a piece,-     His wif forth with hire dowhtres alle,     So as the happes scholden falle,     1340     With many a gentil womman there     Dreint in the salte See thei were:     Wherof the Greks that time seiden,     And such a name upon hem leiden,     Nerei5des that thei ben hote,     The Nimphes whiche that thei note     To regne upon the stremes salte.     Lo now, if this believe halte!     Bot of the Nimphes as thei telle,     In every place wher thei duelle        1350     Thei ben al redi obeissant     As damoiselles entendant     To the goddesses, whos servise     Thei mote obeie in alle wise;     Wherof the Greks to hem beseke     With tho that ben goddesses eke,     And have in hem a gret credence.     And yit withoute experience     Salve only of illusion,     Which was to hem dampnacion,        1360     For men also that were dede     Thei hadden goddes, as I rede,     And tho be name Manes hihten,     To whom ful gret honour thei dihten,     So as the Grekes lawe seith,     Which was ayein the rihte feith.     Thus have I told a gret partie;     Bot al the hole progenie     Of goddes in that ilke time     To long it were forto rime.    1370     Bot yit of that which thou hast herd,     Of misbelieve hou it hath ferd,     Ther is a gret diversite.     Mi fader, riht so thenketh me.     Bot yit o thing I you beseche,     Which stant in alle mennes speche,     The godd and the goddesse of love,     Of whom ye nothing hier above     Have told, ne spoken of her fare,     That ye me wolden now declare     1380     Hou thei ferst comen to that name.     Mi Sone, I have it left for schame,     Be cause I am here oghne Prest;     Bot for thei stonden nyh thi brest     Upon the schrifte of thi matiere,     Thou schalt of hem the sothe hiere:     And understond nou wel the cas.     Venus Saturnes dowhter was,     Which alle danger putte aweie     Of love, and fond to lust a weie;    1390     So that of hire in sondri place     Diverse men felle into grace,     And such a lusti lif sche ladde,     That sche diverse children hadde,     Nou on be this, nou on be that.     Of hire it was that Mars beyat     A child, which cleped was Armene;     Of hire also cam Andragene,     To whom Mercurie fader was:     Anchises begat Eneas     1400     Of hire also, and Ericon     Biten begat, and therupon,     Whan that sche sih ther was non other,     Be Jupiter hire oghne brother     Sche lay, and he begat Cupide.     And thilke Sone upon a tyde,     Whan he was come unto his Age,     He hadde a wonder fair visage,     And fond his Moder amourous,     And he was also lecherous:     1410     So whan thei weren bothe al one,     As he which yhen hadde none     To se reson, his Moder kiste;     And sche also, that nothing wiste     Bot that which unto lust belongeth,     To ben hire love him underfongeth.     Thus was he blind, and sche unwys:     Bot natheles this cause it is,     Why Cupide is the god of love,     For he his moder dorste love.     1420     And sche, which thoghte hire lustes fonde,     Diverse loves tok in honde,     Wel mo thanne I the tolde hiere:     And for sche wolde hirselve skiere,     Sche made comun that desport,     And sette a lawe of such a port,     That every womman mihte take     What man hire liste, and noght forsake     To ben als comun as sche wolde.     Sche was the ferste also which tolde    1430     That wommen scholde here bodi selle;     Semiramis, so as men telle,     Of Venus kepte thilke aprise,     And so dede in the same wise     Of Rome faire Neabole,     Which liste hire bodi to rigole;     Sche was to every man felawe,     And hild the lust of thilke lawe,     Which Venus of hirself began;     Wherof that sche the name wan,    1440     Why men hire clepen the goddesse     Of love and ek of gentilesse,     Of worldes lust and of plesance.     Se nou the foule mescreance     Of Greks in thilke time tho,     Whan Venus tok hire name so.     Ther was no cause under the Mone     Of which thei hadden tho to done,     Of wel or wo wher so it was,     That thei ne token in that cas    1450     A god to helpe or a goddesse.     Wherof, to take mi witnesse,     The king of Bragmans Dindimus     Wrot unto Alisandre thus:     In blaminge of the Grekes feith     And of the misbelieve, he seith     How thei for every membre hadden     A sondri god, to whom thei spradden     Here armes, and of help besoghten.     Minerve for the hed thei soghten,    1460     For sche was wys, and of a man     The wit and reson which he can     Is in the celles of the brayn,     Wherof thei made hire soverain.     Mercurie, which was in his dawes     A gret spekere of false lawes,     On him the kepinge of the tunge     Thei leide, whan thei spieke or sunge.     For Bachus was a glotoun eke,     Him for the throte thei beseke,        1470     That he it wolde waisshen ofte     With swote drinkes and with softe.     The god of schuldres and of armes     Was Hercules; for he in armes     The myhtieste was to fihte,     To him tho Limes they behihte.     The god whom that thei clepen Mart     The brest to kepe hath for his part,     Forth with the herte, in his ymage     That he adresce the corage.    1480     And of the galle the goddesse,     For sche was full of hastifesse     Of wraththe and liht to grieve also,     Thei made and seide it was Juno.     Cupide, which the brond afyre     Bar in his hond, he was the Sire     Of the Stomak, which builleth evere,     Wherof the lustes ben the levere.     To the goddesse Cereres,     Which of the corn yaf hire encress        1490     Upon the feith that tho was take,     The wombes cure was betake;     And Venus thurgh the Lecherie,     For which that thei hire deifie,     Sche kept al doun the remenant     To thilke office appourtenant.     Thus was dispers in sondri wise     The misbelieve, as I devise,     With many an ymage of entaile,     Of suche as myhte hem noght availe;     1500     For thei withoute lyves chiere     Unmyhti ben to se or hiere     Or speke or do or elles fiele;     And yit the foles to hem knele,     Which is here oghne handes werk.     Ha lord, hou this believe is derk,     And fer fro resonable wit!     And natheles thei don it yit:     That was to day a ragged tre,     To morwe upon his majeste        1510     Stant in the temple wel besein.     How myhte a mannes resoun sein     That such a Stock mai helpe or grieve?     Bot thei that ben of such believe     And unto suche goddes calle,     It schal to hem riht so befalle,     And failen ate moste nede.     Bot if thee list to taken hiede     And of the ferste ymage wite,     Petornius therof hath write    1520     And ek Nigargorus also;     And thei afferme and write so,     That Promothe
s was tofore     And fond the ferste craft therfore,     And Cirophanes, as thei telle,     Thurgh conseil which was take in helle,     In remembrance of his lignage     Let setten up the ferste ymage.     Of Cirophanes seith the bok,     That he for sorwe, which he tok        1530     Of that he sih his Sone ded,     Of confort knew non other red,     Bot let do make in remembrance     A faire ymage of his semblance     And sette it in the market place,     Which openly tofore his face     Stod every dai to don him ese.     And thei that thanne wolden plese     The fader, scholden it obeie,     Whan that they comen thilke weie.    1540     And of Ninus king of Assire     I rede hou that in his empire     He was next after the secounde     Of hem that ferst ymages founde.     For he riht in semblable cas     Of Belus, which his fader was     Fro Nembroth in the rihte line,     Let make of gold and Stones fine     A precious ymage riche     After his fader evene liche;        1550     And therupon a lawe he sette,     That every man of pure dette     With sacrifice and with truage     Honoure scholde thilke ymage:     So that withinne time it fell,     Of Belus cam the name of Bel,     Of Bel cam Belzebub, and so     The misbelieve wente tho.     The thridde ymage next to this     Was, whan the king of Grece Apis     1560     Was ded, thei maden a figure     In resemblance of his stature.     Of this king Apis seith the bok     That Serapis his name tok,     In whom thurgh long continuance     Of misbelieve a gret creance     Thei hadden, and the reverence     Of Sacrifice and of encence     To him thei made: and as thei telle,     Among the wondres that befelle,        1570     Whan Alisandre fro Candace     Cam ridende, in a wilde place     Undur an hull a Cave he fond;     And Candalus, which in that lond     Was bore, and was Candaces Sone,     Him tolde hou that of commun wone     The goddes were in thilke cave.     And he, that wolde assaie and have     A knowlechinge if it be soth,     Liht of his hors and in he goth,     1580     And fond therinne that he soghte:     For thurgh the fendes sleihte him thoghte,     Amonges othre goddes mo     That Serapis spak to him tho,     Whom he sih there in gret arrai.     And thus the fend fro dai to dai     The worschipe of ydolatrie     Drowh forth upon the fantasie     Of hem that weren thanne blinde     And couthen noght the trouthe finde.    1590     Thus hast thou herd in what degre     Of Grece, Egipte and of Caldee     The misbelieves whilom stode;     And hou so that thei be noght goode     Ne trewe, yit thei sprungen oute,     Wherof the wyde world aboute     His part of misbelieve tok.     Til so befell, as seith the bok,     That god a poeple for himselve     Hath chose of the lignages tuelve,        1600     Wherof the sothe redely,     As it is write in Genesi,     I thenke telle in such a wise     That it schal be to thin apprise.     After the flod, fro which Noe5     Was sauf, the world in his degre     Was mad, as who seith, newe ayein,     Of flour, of fruit, of gras, of grein,     Of beste, of bridd and of mankinde,     Which evere hath be to god unkinde:     1610     For noght withstondende al the fare,     Of that this world was mad so bare     And afterward it was restored,     Among the men was nothing mored     Towardes god of good lyvynge,     Bot al was torned to likinge     After the fleissh, so that foryete     Was he which yaf hem lif and mete,     Of hevene and Erthe creatour.     And thus cam forth the grete errour,    1620     That thei the hihe god ne knewe,     Bot maden othre goddes newe,     As thou hast herd me seid tofore:     Ther was noman that time bore,     That he ne hadde after his chois     A god, to whom he yaf his vois.     Wherof the misbelieve cam     Into the time of Habraham:     Bot he fond out the rihte weie,     Hou only that men scholde obeie        1630     The hihe god, which weldeth al,     And evere hath don and evere schal,     In hevene, in Erthe and ek in helle;     Ther is no tunge his miht mai telle.     This Patriarch to his lignage     Forbad, that thei to non ymage     Encline scholde in none wise,     Bot here offrende and sacrifise     With al the hole hertes love     Unto the mihti god above    1640     Thei scholden yive and to no mo:     And thus in thilke time tho     Began the Secte upon this Erthe,     Which of believes was the ferthe.     Of rihtwisnesse it was conceived,     So moste it nedes be received     Of him that alle riht is inne,     The hihe god, which wolde winne     A poeple unto his oghne feith.     On Habraham the ground he leith,     1650     And made him forto multeplie     Into so gret a progenie,     That thei Egipte al overspradde.     Bot Pharao with wrong hem ladde     In servitute ayein the pes,     Til god let sende Moi5ses     To make the deliverance;     And for his poeple gret vengance     He tok, which is to hiere a wonder.     The king was slain, the lond put under,    1660     God bad the rede See divide,     Which stod upriht on either side     And yaf unto his poeple a weie,     That thei on fote it passe dreie     And gon so forth into desert:     Wher forto kepe hem in covert,     The daies, whan the Sonne brente,     A large cloude hem overwente,     And forto wissen hem be nyhte,     A firy Piler hem alyhte.    1670     And whan that thei for hunger pleigne,     The myhti god began to reyne     Manna fro hevene doun to grounde,     Wherof that ech of hem hath founde     His fode, such riht as him liste;     And for thei scholde upon him triste,     Riht as who sette a tonne abroche,     He percede the harde roche,     And sprong out water al at wille,     That man and beste hath drunke his fille:     1680     And afterward he yaf the lawe     To Moi5ses, that hem withdrawe     Thei scholden noght fro that he bad.     And in this wise thei be lad,     Til thei toke in possession     The londes of promission,     Wher that Caleph and Josue5     The Marches upon such degre     Departen, after the lignage     That ech of hem as Heritage    1690     His porpartie hath underfonge.     And thus stod this believe longe,     Which of prophetes was governed;     And thei hadde ek the poeple lerned     Of gret honour that scholde hem falle;     Bot ate moste nede of alle     Thei faileden, whan Crist was bore.     Bot hou that thei here feith have bore,     It nedeth noght to tellen al,     The matiere is so general:     1700     Whan Lucifer was best in hevene     And oghte moste have stonde in evene,     Towardes god he tok debat;     And for that he was obstinat,     And wolde noght to trouthe encline,     He fell for evere into ruine:     And Adam ek in Paradis,     Whan he stod most in al his pris     After thastat of Innocence,     Ayein the god brak his defence    1710     And fell out of his place aweie:     And riht be such a maner weie     The Jwes in here beste plit,     Whan that thei scholden most parfit     Have stonde upon the prophecie,     Tho fellen thei to most folie,     And him which was fro hevene come,     And of a Maide his fleissh hath nome,     And was among hem bore and fedd,     As men that wolden noght be spedd    1720     Of goddes Sone, with o vois     Thei hinge and slowhe upon the crois.     Wherof the parfit of here lawe     Fro thanne forth hem was withdrawe,     So that thei stonde of no merit,     Bot in truage as folk soubgit     Withoute proprete of place     Thei liven out of goddes grace,     Dispers in alle londes oute.     And thus the feith is come aboute,        1730     That whilom in the Jewes stod,     Which is noght parfihtliche good.     To speke as it is nou befalle,     Ther is a feith aboven alle,     In which the trouthe is comprehended,     Wherof that we ben alle amended.     The hihe almyhti majeste,     Of rihtwisnesse and of pite,     The Sinne which that Adam wroghte,     Whan he sih time, ayein he boghte,        1740     And sende his Sone fro the hevene     To sette mannes Soule in evene,     Which thanne was so sore falle     Upon the point which was befalle,     That he ne mihte himself arise.     Gregoire seith in his aprise,     It helpeth noght a man be bore,     If goddes Sone were unbore;     For thanne thurgh the ferste Sinne,     Which Adam whilom broghte ous inne,     1750     Ther scholden alle men be lost;     Bot Crist restoreth thilke lost,     And boghte it with his fleissh and blod.     And if we thenken hou it stod     Of thilke rancoun which he payde,     As seint Gregoire it wrot and sayde,     Al was behovely to the man:     For that wherof his wo began     Was after cause of al his welthe,     Whan he which is the welle of helthe,        1760     The hihe creatour of lif,     Upon the nede of such a strif     So wolde for his creature     Take on himself the forsfaiture     And soffre for the mannes sake.     Thus mai no reson wel forsake     That thilke Senne original     Ne was the cause in special     Of mannes worschipe ate laste,     Which schal withouten ende laste.    1770     For be that cause the godhede     Assembled was to the manhede     In the virgine, where he nom     Oure fleissh and verai man becom     Of bodely fraternite;     Wherof the man in his degre     Stant more worth, as I have told,     Than he stod erst be manyfold,     Thurgh baptesme of the newe lawe,     Of which Crist lord is and felawe.        1780     And thus the hihe goddes myht,     Which was in the virgine alyht,     The mannes Soule hath reconsiled,     Which hadde longe ben exiled.     So stant the feith upon believe,     Withoute which mai non achieve     To gete him Paradis ayein:     Bot this believe is so certein,     So full of grace and of vertu,     That what man clepeth to Jhesu    1790     In clene lif forthwith good dede,     He mai noght faile of hevene mede,     Which taken hath the rihte feith;     For elles, as the gospel seith,     Salvacion ther mai be non.     And forto preche therupon     Crist bad to hise Apostles alle,     The whos pouer as nou is falle     On ous that ben of holi cherche,     If we the goode dedes werche;     1800     For feith only sufficeth noght,     Bot if good dede also be wroght.     Now were it good that thou forthi,     Which thurgh baptesme proprely     Art unto Cristes feith professed,     Be war that thou be noght oppressed     With Anticristes lollardie.     For as the Jwes prophecie     Was set of god for avantage,     Riht so this newe tapinage     1810     Of lollardie goth aboute     To sette Cristes feith in doute.     The seintz that weren ous tofore,     Be whom the feith was ferst upbore,     That holi cherche stod relieved,     Thei oghten betre be believed     Than these, whiche that men knowe     Noght holy, thogh thei feigne and blowe     Here lollardie in mennes Ere.     Bot if thou wolt live out of fere,        1820     Such newe lore, I rede, eschuie,     And hold forth riht the weie and suie,     As thine Ancestres dede er this:     So schalt thou noght believe amis.     Crist wroghte ferst and after tawhte,     So that the dede his word arawhte;     He yaf ensample in his persone,     And we the wordes have al one,     Lich to the Tree with leves grene,     Upon the which no fruit is sene.     1830     The Priest Thoas, which of Minerve     The temple hadde forto serve,     And the Palladion of Troie     Kepte under keie, for monoie,     Of Anthenor which he hath nome,     Hath soffred Anthenor to come     And the Palladion to stele,     Wherof the worschipe and the wele     Of the Troiens was overthrowe.     Bot Thoas at the same throwe,     1840     Whan Anthenor this Juel tok,     Wynkende caste awei his lok     For a deceipte and for a wyle:     As he that scholde himself beguile,     He hidde his yhen fro the sihte,     And wende wel that he so mihte     Excuse his false conscience.     I wot noght if thilke evidence     Nou at this time in here estatz     Excuse mihte the Prelatz,        1850     Knowende hou that the feith discresceth     And alle moral vertu cesseth,     Wherof that thei the keies bere,     Bot yit hem liketh noght to stere     Here gostliche yhe forto se     The world in his adversite;     Thei wol no labour undertake     To kepe that hem is betake.     Crist deide himselve for the feith,     Bot nou our feerfull prelat seith,        1860     "The lif is suete," and that he kepeth,     So that the feith unholpe slepeth,     And thei unto here ese entenden     And in here lust her lif despenden,     And every man do what him list.     Thus stant this world fulfild of Mist,     That noman seth the rihte weie:     The wardes of the cherche keie     Thurgh mishandlinge ben myswreynt,     The worldes wawe hath welnyh dreynt     1870     The Schip which Peter hath to stiere,     The forme is kept, bot the matiere     Transformed is in other wise.     Bot if thei weren gostli wise,     And that the Prelatz weren goode,     As thei be olde daies stode,     It were thanne litel nede     Among the men to taken hiede     Of that thei hieren Pseudo telle,     Which nou is come forto duelle,        1880     To sowe cokkel with the corn,     So that the tilthe is nyh forlorn,     Which Crist sew ferst his oghne hond.     Nou stant the cockel in the lond,     Wher stod whilom the goode grein,     For the Prelatz nou, as men sein,     Forslowthen that thei scholden tile.     And that I trowe be the skile,     Whan ther is lacke in hem above,     The poeple is stranged to the love        1890     Of trouthe, in cause of ignorance;     For wher ther is no pourveance     Of liht, men erren in the derke.     Bot if the Prelatz wolden werke     Upon the feith which thei ous teche,     Men scholden noght here weie seche     Withoute liht, as now is used:     Men se the charge aldai refused,     Which holi cherche hath undertake.     Bot who that wolde ensample take,    1900     Gregoire upon his Omelie     Ayein the Slouthe of Prelacie     Compleigneth him, and thus he seith:     "Whan Peter, fader of the feith,     At domesdai schal with him bringe     Judeam, which thurgh his prechinge     He wan, and Andrew with Achaie     Schal come his dette forto paie,     And Thomas ek with his beyete     Of Ynde, and Poul the routes grete        1910     Of sondri londes schal presente,     And we fulfild of lond and rente,     Which of this world we holden hiere,     With voide handes schul appiere,     Touchende oure cure spirital,     Which is our charge in special,     I not what thing it mai amonte     Upon thilke ende of oure accompte,     Wher Crist himself is Auditour,     Which takth non hiede of vein honour."     1920     Thoffice of the Chancellerie     Or of the kinges Tresorie     Ne for the writ ne for the taille     To warant mai noght thanne availe;     The world, which nou so wel we trowe,     Schal make ous thanne bot a mowe:     So passe we withoute mede,     That we non otherwise spede,     Bot as we rede that he spedde,     The which his lordes besant hedde    1930     And therupon gat non encress.     Bot at this time natheles,     What other man his thonk deserve,     The world so lusti is to serve,     That we with him ben all acorded,     And that is wist and wel recorded     Thurghout this Erthe in alle londes     Let knyhtes winne with here hondes,     For oure tunge schal be stille     And stonde upon the fleisshes wille.    1940     It were a travail forto preche     The feith of Crist, as forto teche     The folk Paiene, it wol noght be;     Bot every Prelat holde his See     With al such ese as he mai gete     Of lusti drinke and lusti mete,     Wherof the bodi fat and full     Is unto gostli labour dull     And slowh to handle thilke plowh.     Bot elles we ben swifte ynowh     1950     Toward the worldes Avarice;     And that is as a sacrifice,     Which, after that thapostel seith,     Is openly ayein the feith     Unto thidoles yove and granted:     Bot natheles it is nou haunted,     And vertu changed into vice,     So that largesce is Avarice,     In whos chapitre now we trete.     Mi fader, this matiere is bete    1960     So fer, that evere whil I live     I schal the betre hede yive     Unto miself be many weie:     Bot over this nou wolde I preie     To wite what the branches are     Of Avarice, and hou thei fare     Als wel in love as otherwise.     Mi Sone, and I thee schal devise     In such a manere as thei stonde,     So that thou schalt hem understonde.                    1970     Dame Avarice is noght soleine,     Which is of gold the Capiteine;     Bot of hir Court in sondri wise     After the Scole of hire aprise     Sche hath of Servantz manyon,     Wherof that Covoitise is on;     Which goth the large world aboute,     To seche thavantages oute,     Wher that he mai the profit winne     To Avarice, and bringth it inne.     1980     That on hald and that other draweth,     Ther is no day which hem bedaweth,     No mor the Sonne than the Mone,     Whan ther is eny thing to done,     And namely with Covoitise;     For he stant out of al assisse     Of resonable mannes fare.     Wher he pourposeth him to fare     Upon his lucre and his beyete,     The smale path, the large Strete,    1990     The furlong and the longe Mile,     Al is bot on for thilke while:     And for that he is such on holde,     Dame Avarice him hath withholde,     As he which is the principal     Outward, for he is overal     A pourveour and an aspie.     For riht as of an hungri Pie     The storve bestes ben awaited,     Riht so is Covoitise afaited        2000     To loke where he mai pourchace,     For be his wille he wolde embrace     Al that this wyde world beclippeth;     Bot evere he somwhat overhippeth,     That he ne mai noght al fulfille     The lustes of his gredi wille.     Bot where it falleth in a lond,     That Covoitise in myhti hond     Is set, it is ful hard to fiede;     For thanne he takth non other hiede,    2010     Bot that he mai pourchace and gete,     His conscience hath al foryete,     And not what thing it mai amonte     That he schal afterward acompte.     Bote as the Luce in his degre     Of tho that lasse ben than he     The fisshes griedeli devoureth,     So that no water hem socoureth,     Riht so no lawe mai rescowe     Fro him that wol no riht allowe;     2020     For wher that such on is of myht,     His will schal stonde in stede of riht.     Thus be the men destruid fulofte,     Til that the grete god alofte     Ayein so gret a covoitise     Redresce it in his oghne wise:     And in ensample of alle tho     I finde a tale write so,     The which, for it is good to liere,     Hierafterward thou schalt it hiere.     2030     Whan Rome stod in noble plit,     Virgile, which was tho parfit,     A Mirour made of his clergie     And sette it in the tounes ije     Of marbre on a piler withoute;     That thei be thritty Mile aboute     Be daie and ek also be nyhte     In that Mirour beholde myhte     Here enemys, if eny were,     With al here ordinance there,     2040     Which thei ayein the Cite caste:     So that, whil thilke Mirour laste,     Ther was no lond which mihte achieve     With werre Rome forto grieve;     Wherof was gret envie tho.     And fell that ilke time so,     That Rome hadde werres stronge     Ayein Cartage, and stoden longe     The tuo Cites upon debat.     Cartage sih the stronge astat     2050     Of Rome in thilke Mirour stonde,     And thoghte al prively to fonde     To overthrowe it be som wyle.     And Hanybal was thilke while     The Prince and ledere of Cartage,     Which hadde set al his corage     Upon knihthod in such a wise,     That he be worthi and be wise     And be non othre was conseiled,     Wherof the world is yit merveiled    2060     Of the maistries that he wroghte     Upon the marches whiche he soghte.     And fell in thilke time also,     The king of Puile, which was tho,     Thoghte ayein Rome to rebelle,     And thus was take the querele,     Hou to destruie this Mirour.     Of Rome tho was Emperour     Crassus, which was so coveitous,     That he was evere desirous     2070     Of gold to gete the pilage;     Wherof that Puile and ek Cartage     With Philosophres wise and grete     Begunne of this matiere trete,     And ate laste in this degre     Ther weren Philosophres thre,     To do this thing whiche undertoke,     And therupon thei with hem toke     A gret tresor of gold in cophres,     To Rome and thus these philisophres     2080     Togedre in compainie wente,     Bot noman wiste what thei mente.     Whan thei to Rome come were,     So prively thei duelte there,     As thei that thoghten to deceive:     Was non that mihte of hem perceive,     Til thei in sondri stedes have     Here gold under the ground begrave     In tuo tresors, that to beholde     Thei scholden seme as thei were olde.        2090     And so forth thanne upon a day     Al openly in good arai     To themperour thei hem presente,     And tolden it was here entente     To duellen under his servise.     And he hem axeth in what wise;     And thei him tolde in such a plit,     That ech of hem hadde a spirit,     The which slepende a nyht appiereth     And hem be sondri dremes lereth        2100     After the world that hath betid.     Under the ground if oght be hid     Of old tresor at eny throwe,     They schull it in here swevenes knowe;     And upon this condicioun,     Thei sein, what gold under the toun     Of Rome is hid, thei wole it finde,     Ther scholde noght be left behinde,     Be so that he the halvendel     Hem grante, and he assenteth wel;    2110     And thus cam sleighte forto duelle     With Covoitise, as I thee telle.     This Emperour bad redily     That thei be logged faste by     Where he his oghne body lay;     And whan it was amorwe day,     That on of hem seith that he mette     Wher he a goldhord scholde fette:     Wherof this Emperour was glad,     And therupon anon he bad    2120     His Mynours forto go and myne,     And he himself of that covine     Goth forth withal, and at his hond     The tresor redi there he fond,     Where as thei seide it scholde be;     And who was thanne glad bot he?     Upon that other dai secounde     Thei have an other goldhord founde,     Which the seconde maister tok     Upon his swevene and undertok.    2130     And thus the sothe experience     To themperour yaf such credence,     That al his trist and al his feith     So sikerliche on hem he leith,     Of that he fond him so relieved,     That thei ben parfitli believed,     As thogh thei were goddes thre.     Nou herkne the soutilete.     The thridde maister scholde mete,     Which, as thei seiden, was unmete    2140     Above hem alle, and couthe most;     And he withoute noise or bost     Al priveli, so as he wolde,     Upon the morwe his swevene tolde     To themperour riht in his Ere,     And seide him that he wiste where     A tresor was so plentivous     Of gold and ek so precious     Of jeueals and of riche stones,     That unto alle hise hors at ones     2150     It were a charge sufficant.     This lord upon this covenant     Was glad, and axeth where it was.     The maister seide, under the glas,     And tolde him eke, as for the Myn     He wolde ordeigne such engin,     That thei the werk schull undersette     With Tymber, that withoute lette     Men mai the tresor saufli delve,     So that the Mirour be himselve    2160     Withoute empeirement schal stonde:     And this the maister upon honde     Hath undertake in alle weie.     This lord, which hadde his wit aweie     And was with Covoitise blent,     Anon therto yaf his assent;     And thus they myne forth withal,     The timber set up overal,     Wherof the Piler stod upriht;     Til it befell upon a nyht        2170     These clerkes, whan thei were war     Hou that the timber only bar     The Piler, wher the Mirour stod,-     Here sleihte noman understod,-     Thei go be nyhte unto the Myne     With pich, with soulphre and with rosine,     And whan the Cite was a slepe,     A wylde fyr into the depe     They caste among the timberwerk,     And so forth, whil the nyht was derk,        2180     Desguised in a povere arai     Thei passeden the toun er dai.     And whan thei come upon an hell,     Thei sihen how the Mirour fell,     Wherof thei maden joie ynowh,     And ech of hem with other lowh,     And seiden, "Lo, what coveitise     Mai do with hem that be noght wise!"     And that was proved afterward,     For every lond, to Romeward    2190     Which hadde be soubgit tofore,     Whan this Mirour was so forlore     And thei the wonder herde seie,     Anon begunne desobeie     With werres upon every side;     And thus hath Rome lost his pride     And was defouled overal.     For this I finde of Hanybal,     That he of Romeins in a dai,     Whan he hem fond out of arai,     2200     So gret a multitude slowh,     That of goldringes, whiche he drowh     Of gentil handes that ben dede,     Buisshelles fulle thre, I rede,     He felde, and made a bregge also,     That he mihte over Tibre go     Upon the corps that dede were     Of the Romeins, whiche he slowh there.     Bot now to speke of the juise,     The which after the covoitise     2210     Was take upon this Emperour,     For he destruide the Mirour;     It is a wonder forto hiere.     The Romeins maden a chaiere     And sette here Emperour therinne,     And seiden, for he wolde winne     Of gold the superfluite,     Of gold he scholde such plente     Receive, til he seide Ho:     And with gold, which thei hadden tho    2220     Buillende hot withinne a panne,     Into his Mouth thei poure thanne.     And thus the thurst of gold was queynt,     With gold which hadde ben atteignt.     Wherof, mi Sone, thou miht hiere,     Whan Covoitise hath lost the stiere     Of resonable governance,     Ther falleth ofte gret vengance.     For ther mai be no worse thing     Than Covoitise aboute a king:     2230     If it in his persone be,     It doth the more adversite;     And if it in his conseil stonde,     It bringth alday meschief to honde     Of commun harm; and if it growe     Withinne his court, it wol be knowe,     For thanne schal the king be piled.     The man which hath hise londes tiled,     Awaiteth noght more redily     The Hervest, than thei gredily    2240     Ne maken thanne warde and wacche,     Wher thei the profit mihten cacche:     And yit fulofte it falleth so,     As men mai sen among hem tho,     That he which most coveiteth faste     Hath lest avantage ate laste.     For whan fortune is therayein,     Thogh he coveite, it is in vein;     The happes be noght alle liche,     On is mad povere, an other riche,    2250     The court to some doth profit,     And some ben evere in o plit;     And yit thei bothe aliche sore     Coveite, bot fortune is more     Unto that o part favorable.     And thogh it be noght resonable,     This thing a man mai sen alday,     Wherof that I thee telle may     A fair ensample in remembrance,     Hou every man mot take his chance    2260     Or of richesse or of poverte.     Hou so it stonde of the decerte,     Hier is noght every thing aquit,     For ofte a man mai se this yit,     That who best doth, lest thonk schal have;     It helpeth noght the world to crave,     Which out of reule and of mesure     Hath evere stonde in aventure     Als wel in Court as elles where:     And hou in olde daies there    2270     It stod, so as the thinges felle,     I thenke a tale forto telle.     In a Cronique this I rede.     Aboute a king, as moste nede,     Ther was of knyhtes and squiers     Gret route, and ek of Officers:     Some of long time him hadden served,     And thoghten that thei have deserved     Avancement, and gon withoute;     And some also ben of the route    2280     That comen bot a while agon,     And thei avanced were anon.     These olde men upon this thing,     So as thei dorste, ayein the king     Among hemself compleignen ofte:     Bot ther is nothing seid so softe,     That it ne comth out ate laste;     The king it wiste, and als so faste,     As he which was of hih Prudence,     He schop therfore an evidence     2290     Of hem that pleignen in that cas,     To knowe in whos defalte it was.     And al withinne his oghne entente,     That noman wiste what it mente,     Anon he let tuo cofres make     Of o semblance and of o make,     So lich that no lif thilke throwe     That on mai fro that other knowe:     Thei were into his chambre broght,     Bot noman wot why thei be wroght,    2300     And natheles the king hath bede     That thei be set in prive stede.     As he that was of wisdom slih,     Whan he therto his time sih,     Al prively, that non it wiste,     Hise oghne hondes that o kiste     Of fin gold and of fin perrie,     The which out of his tresorie     Was take, anon he felde full;     That other cofre of straw and mull        2310     With Stones meind he felde also.     Thus be thei fulle bothe tuo,     So that erliche upon a day     He bad withinne, ther he lay,     Ther scholde be tofore his bed     A bord upset and faire spred;     And thanne he let the cofres fette,     Upon the bord and dede hem sette.     He knew the names wel of tho,     The whiche ayein him grucche so,     2320     Bothe of his chambre and of his halle,     Anon and sende for hem alle,     And seide to hem in this wise:     "Ther schal noman his happ despise;     I wot wel ye have longe served,     And god wot what ye have deserved:     Bot if it is along on me     Of that ye unavanced be,     Or elles it be long on you,     The sothe schal be proved nou,    2330     To stoppe with youre evele word.     Lo hier tuo cofres on the bord:     Ches which you list of bothe tuo;     And witeth wel that on of tho     Is with tresor so full begon,     That if ye happe therupon,     Ye schull be riche men for evere.     Now ches and tak which you is levere:     Bot be wel war, er that ye take;     For of that on I undertake     2340     Ther is no maner good therinne,     Wherof ye mihten profit winne.     Now goth togedre of on assent     And taketh youre avisement,     For bot I you this dai avance,     It stant upon youre oghne chance     Al only in defalte of grace:     So schal be schewed in this place     Upon you alle wel afyn,     That no defalte schal be myn."    2350     Thei knelen alle and with o vois     The king thei thonken of this chois:     And after that thei up arise,     And gon aside and hem avise,     And ate laste thei acorde;     Wherof her tale to recorde,     To what issue thei be falle,     A kniht schal speke for hem alle.     He kneleth doun unto the king,     And seith that thei upon this thing,    2360     Or forto winne or forto lese,     Ben alle avised forto chese.     Tho tok this kniht a yerde on honde,     And goth there as the cofres stonde,     And with assent of everichon     He leith his yerde upon that on,     And seith the king hou thilke same     Thei chese in reguerdoun be name,     And preith him that thei mote it have.     The king, which wolde his honour save,     2370     Whan he hath herd the commun vois,     Hath granted hem here oghne chois     And tok hem therupon the keie.     Bot for he wolde it were seie     What good thei have, as thei suppose,     He bad anon the cofre unclose,     Which was fulfild with straw and stones:     Thus be thei served al at ones.     This king thanne in the same stede     Anon that other cofre undede,     2380     Where as thei sihen gret richesse,     Wel more than thei couthen gesse.     "Lo," seith the king, "nou mai ye se     That ther is no defalte in me;     Forthi miself I wole aquyte,     And bereth ye youre oghne wyte     Of that fortune hath you refused."     Thus was this wise king excused,     And thei lefte of here evele speche     And mercy of here king beseche.        2390     Somdiel to this matiere lik     I finde a tale, hou Frederik,     Of Rome that time Emperour,     Herde, as he wente, a gret clamour     Of tuo beggers upon the weie.     That on of hem began to seie,     "Ha lord, wel mai the man be riche     Whom that a king list forto riche."     That other saide nothing so,     Bot, "He is riche and wel bego,        2400     To whom that god wole sende wele."     And thus thei maden wordes fele,     Wherof this lord hath hiede nome,     And dede hem bothe forto come     To the Paleis, wher he schal ete,     And bad ordeine for here mete     Tuo Pastes, whiche he let do make.     A capoun in that on was bake,     And in that other forto winne     Of florins al that mai withinne        2410     He let do pute a gret richesse;     And evene aliche, as man mai gesse,     Outward thei were bothe tuo.     This begger was comanded tho,     He that which hield him to the king,     That he ferst chese upon this thing:     He sih hem, bot he felte hem noght,     So that upon his oghne thoght     He ches the Capoun and forsok     That other, which his fela tok.        2420     Bot whanne he wiste hou that it ferde,     He seide alowd, that men it herde,     "Nou have I certeinly conceived     That he mai lihtly be deceived,     That tristeth unto mannes helpe;     Bot wel is him whom god wol helpe,     For he stant on the siker side,     Which elles scholde go beside:     I se my fela wel recovere,     And I mot duelle stille povere."     2430     Thus spak this begger his entente,     And povere he cam and povere he wente;     Of that he hath richesse soght,     His infortune it wolde noght.     So mai it schewe in sondri wise,     Betwen fortune and covoitise     The chance is cast upon a Dee;     Bot yit fulofte a man mai se     Ynowe of suche natheles,     Whiche evere pute hemself in press        2440     To gete hem good, and yit thei faile.     And forto speke of this entaile     Touchende of love in thi matiere,     Mi goode Sone, as thou miht hiere,     That riht as it with tho men stod     Of infortune of worldes good,     As thou hast herd me telle above,     Riht so fulofte it stant be love:     Thogh thou coveite it everemore,     Thou schalt noght have o diel the more,    2450     Bot only that which thee is schape,     The remenant is bot a jape.     And natheles ynowe of tho     Ther ben, that nou coveiten so,     That where as thei a womman se,     Ye ten or tuelve thogh ther be,     The love is nou so unavised,     That wher the beaute stant assised,     The mannes herte anon is there,     And rouneth tales in hire Ere,    2460     And seith hou that he loveth streite,     And thus he set him to coveite,     An hundred thogh he sihe aday.     So wolde he more thanne he may;     Bot for the grete covoitise     Of sotie and of fol emprise     In ech of hem he fint somwhat     That pleseth him, or this or that;     Som on, for sche is whit of skin,     Som on, for sche is noble of kin,    2470     Som on, for sche hath rodi chieke,     Som on, for that sche semeth mieke,     Som on, for sche hath yhen greie,     Som on, for sche can lawhe and pleie,     Som on, for sche is long and smal,     Som on, for sche is lyte and tall,     Som on, for sche is pale and bleche,     Som on, for sche is softe of speche,     Som on, for that sche is camused,     Som on, for sche hath noght ben used,                2480     Som on, for sche can daunce and singe;     So that som thing to his likinge     He fint, and thogh nomore he fiele,     Bot that sche hath a litel hiele,     It is ynow that he therfore     Hire love, and thus an hundred score,     Whil thei be newe, he wolde he hadde;     Whom he forsakth, sche schal be badde.     The blinde man no colour demeth,     But al is on, riht as him semeth;    2490     So hath his lust no juggement,     Whom covoitise of love blent.     Him thenkth that to his covoitise     Hou al the world ne mai suffise,     For be his wille he wolde have alle,     If that it mihte so befalle:     Thus is he commun as the Strete,     I sette noght of his beyete.     Mi Sone, hast thou such covoitise?     Nai, fader, such love I despise,     2500     And whil I live schal don evere,     For in good feith yit hadde I levere,     Than to coveite in such a weie,     To ben for evere til I deie     As povere as Job, and loveles,     Outaken on, for haveles     His thonkes is noman alyve.     For that a man scholde al unthryve     Ther oghte no wisman coveite,     The lawe was noght set so streite:        2510     Forthi miself withal to save,     Such on ther is I wolde have,     And non of al these othre mo.     Mi Sone, of that thou woldest so,     I am noght wroth, bot over this     I wol thee tellen hou it is.     For ther be men, whiche otherwise,     Riht only for the covoitise     Of that thei sen a womman riche,     Ther wol thei al here love affiche;     2520     Noght for the beaute of hire face,     Ne yit for vertu ne for grace,     Which sche hath elles riht ynowh,     Bot for the Park and for the plowh,     And other thing which therto longeth:     For in non other wise hem longeth     To love, bot thei profit finde;     And if the profit be behinde,     Here love is evere lesse and lesse,     For after that sche hath richesse,        2530     Her love is of proporcion.     If thou hast such condicion,     Mi Sone, tell riht as it is.     Min holi fader, nay ywiss,     Condicion such have I non.     For trewli, fader, I love oon     So wel with al myn hertes thoght,     That certes, thogh sche hadde noght,     And were as povere as Medea,     Which was exiled for Creusa,        2540     I wolde hir noght the lasse love;     Ne thogh sche were at hire above,     As was the riche qwen Candace,     Which to deserve love and grace     To Alisandre, that was king,     Yaf many a worthi riche thing,     Or elles as Pantasilee,     Which was the quen of Feminee,     And gret richesse with hir nam,     Whan sche for love of Hector cam     2550     To Troie in rescousse of the toun,-     I am of such condicion,     That thogh mi ladi of hirselve     Were also riche as suche tuelve,     I couthe noght, thogh it wer so,     No betre love hir than I do.     For I love in so plein a wise,     That forto speke of coveitise,     As for poverte or for richesse     Mi love is nouther mor ne lesse.     2560     For in good feith I trowe this,     So coveitous noman ther is,     Forwhy and he mi ladi sihe,     That he thurgh lokinge of his yhe     Ne scholde have such a strok withinne,     That for no gold he mihte winne     He scholde noght hire love asterte,     Bot if he lefte there his herte;     Be so it were such a man,     That couthe Skile of a womman.    2570     For ther be men so ruide some,     Whan thei among the wommen come,     Thei gon under proteccioun,     That love and his affeccioun     Ne schal noght take hem be the slieve;     For thei ben out of that believe,     Hem lusteth of no ladi chiere,     Bot evere thenken there and hiere     Wher that here gold is in the cofre,     And wol non other love profre:    2580     Bot who so wot what love amounteth     And be resoun trewliche acompteth,     Than mai he knowe and taken hiede     That al the lust of wommanhiede,     Which mai ben in a ladi face,     Mi ladi hath, and ek of grace     If men schull yiven hire a pris,     Thei mai wel seie hou sche is wys     And sobre and simple of contenance,     And al that to good governance    2590     Belongeth of a worthi wiht     Sche hath pleinli: for thilke nyht     That sche was bore, as for the nones     Nature sette in hire at ones     Beaute with bounte so besein,     That I mai wel afferme and sein,     I sawh yit nevere creature     Of comlihied and of feture     In eny kinges regioun     Be lich hire in comparisoun:        2600     And therto, as I have you told,     Yit hath sche more a thousendfold     Of bounte, and schortli to telle,     Sche is the pure hed and welle     And Mirour and ensample of goode.     Who so hir vertus understode,     Me thenkth it oughte ynow suffise     Withouten other covoitise     To love such on and to serve,     Which with hire chiere can deserve        2610     To be beloved betre ywiss     Than sche per cas that richest is     And hath of gold a Milion.     Such hath be myn opinion     And evere schal: bot natheles     I seie noght sche is haveles,     That sche nys riche and wel at ese,     And hath ynow wherwith to plese     Of worldes good whom that hire liste;     Bot o thing wolde I wel ye wiste,    2620     That nevere for no worldes good     Min herte untoward hire stod,     Bot only riht for pure love;     That wot the hihe god above.     Nou, fader, what seie ye therto?     Mi Sone, I seie it is wel do.     For tak of this riht good believe,     What man that wole himself relieve     To love in eny other wise,     He schal wel finde his coveitise     2630     Schal sore grieve him ate laste,     For such a love mai noght laste.     Bot nou, men sein, in oure daies     Men maken bot a fewe assaies,     Bot if the cause be richesse;     Forthi the love is wel the lesse.     And who that wolde ensamples telle,     Be olde daies as thei felle,     Than mihte a man wel understonde     Such love mai noght longe stonde.    2640     Now herkne, Sone, and thou schalt hiere     A gret ensample of this matiere.     To trete upon the cas of love,     So as we tolden hiere above,     I finde write a wonder thing.     Of Puile whilom was a king,     A man of hih complexioun     And yong, bot his affeccioun     After the nature of his age     Was yit noght falle in his corage    2650     The lust of wommen forto knowe.     So it betidde upon a throwe     This lord fell into gret seknesse:     Phisique hath don the besinesse     Of sondri cures manyon     To make him hol; and therupon     A worthi maister which ther was     Yaf him conseil upon this cas,     That if he wolde have parfit hele,     He scholde with a womman dele,    2660     A freissh, a yong, a lusti wiht,     To don him compaignie a nyht:     For thanne he seide him redily,     That he schal be al hol therby,     And otherwise he kneu no cure.     This king, which stod in aventure     Of lif and deth, for medicine     Assented was, and of covine     His Steward, whom he tristeth wel,     He tok, and tolde him everydel,        2670     Hou that this maister hadde seid:     And therupon he hath him preid     And charged upon his ligance,     That he do make porveance     Of such on as be covenable     For his plesance and delitable;     And bad him, hou that evere it stod,     That he schal spare for no good,     For his will is riht wel to paie.     The Steward seide he wolde assaie:        2680     Bot nou hierafter thou schalt wite,     As I finde in the bokes write,     What coveitise in love doth.     This Steward, forto telle soth,     Amonges al the men alyve     A lusti ladi hath to wyve,     Which natheles for gold he tok     And noght for love, as seith the bok.     A riche Marchant of the lond     Hir fader was, and hire fond        2690     So worthily, and such richesse     Of worldes good and such largesse     With hire he yaf in mariage,     That only for thilke avantage     Of good this Steward hath hire take,     For lucre and noght for loves sake,     And that was afterward wel seene;     Nou herkne what it wolde meene.     This Steward in his oghne herte     Sih that his lord mai noght asterte     2700     His maladie, bot he have     A lusti womman him to save,     And thoghte he wolde yive ynowh     Of his tresor; wherof he drowh     Gret coveitise into his mynde,     And sette his honour fer behynde.     Thus he, whom gold hath overset,     Was trapped in his oghne net;     The gold hath mad hise wittes lame,     So that sechende his oghne schame    2710     He rouneth in the kinges Ere,     And seide him that he wiste where     A gentile and a lusti on     Tho was, and thider wolde he gon:     Bot he mot yive yiftes grete;     For bot it be thurgh grete beyete     Of gold, he seith, he schal noght spede.     The king him bad upon the nede     That take an hundred pound he scholde,     And yive it where that he wolde,     2720     Be so it were in worthi place:     And thus to stonde in loves grace     This king his gold hath abandouned.     And whan this tale was full rouned,     The Steward tok the gold and wente,     Withinne his herte and many a wente     Of coveitise thanne he caste,     Wherof a pourpos ate laste     Ayein love and ayein his riht     He tok, and seide hou thilke nyht    2730     His wif schal ligge be the king;     And goth thenkende upon this thing     Toward his In, til he cam hom     Into the chambre, and thanne he nom     His wif, and tolde hire al the cas.     And sche, which red for schame was,     With bothe hire handes hath him preid     Knelende and in this wise seid,     That sche to reson and to skile     In what thing that he bidde wile     2740     Is redy forto don his heste,     Bot this thing were noght honeste,     That he for gold hire scholde selle.     And he tho with hise wordes felle     Forth with his gastly contienance     Seith that sche schal don obeissance     And folwe his will in every place;     And thus thurgh strengthe of his manace     Hir innocence is overlad,     Wherof sche was so sore adrad     2750     That sche his will mot nede obeie.     And therupon was schape a weie,     That he his oghne wif be nyhte     Hath out of alle mennes sihte     So prively that non it wiste     Broght to the king, which as him liste     Mai do with hire what he wolde.     For whan sche was ther as sche scholde,     With him abedde under the cloth,     The Steward tok his leve and goth    2760     Into a chambre faste by;     Bot hou he slep, that wot noght I,     For he sih cause of jelousie.     Bot he, which hath the compainie     Of such a lusti on as sche,     Him thoghte that of his degre     Ther was noman so wel at ese:     Sche doth al that sche mai to plese,     So that his herte al hol sche hadde;     And thus this king his joie ladde,        2770     Til it was nyh upon the day.     The Steward thanne wher sche lay     Cam to the bedd, and in his wise     Hath bede that sche scholde arise.     The king seith, "Nay, sche schal noght go."     His Steward seide ayein, "Noght so;     For sche mot gon er it be knowe,     And so I swor at thilke throwe,     Whan I hire fette to you hiere."     The king his tale wol noght hiere,        2780     And seith hou that he hath hire boght,     Forthi sche schal departe noght,     Til he the brighte dai beholde.     And cawhte hire in hise armes folde,     As he which liste forto pleie,     And bad his Steward gon his weie,     And so he dede ayein his wille.     And thus his wif abedde stille     Lay with the king the longe nyht,     Til that it was hih Sonne lyht;        2790     Bot who sche was he knew nothing.     Tho cam the Steward to the king     And preide him that withoute schame     In savinge of hire goode name     He myhte leden hom ayein     This lady, and hath told him plein     Hou that it was his oghne wif.     The king his Ere unto this strif     Hath leid, and whan that he it herde,     Welnyh out of his wit he ferde,        2800     And seide, "Ha, caitif most of alle,     Wher was it evere er this befalle,     That eny cokard in this wise     Betok his wif for coveitise?     Thou hast bothe hire and me beguiled     And ek thin oghne astat reviled,     Wherof that buxom unto thee     Hierafter schal sche nevere be.     For this avou to god I make,     After this day if I thee take,    2810     Thou schalt ben honged and todrawe.     Nou loke anon thou be withdrawe,     So that I se thee neveremore."     This Steward thanne dradde him sore,     With al the haste that he mai     And fledde awei that same dai,     And was exiled out of londe.     Lo, there a nyce housebonde,     Which thus hath lost his wif for evere!     Bot natheles sche hadde a levere;    2820     The king hire weddeth and honoureth,     Wherof hire name sche socoureth,     Which erst was lost thurgh coveitise     Of him, that ladde hire other wise,     And hath himself also forlore.     Mi Sone, be thou war therfore,     Wher thou schalt love in eny place,     That thou no covoitise embrace,     The which is noght of loves kinde.     Bot for al that a man mai finde        2830     Nou in this time of thilke rage     Ful gret desese in mariage,     Whan venym melleth with the Sucre     And mariage is mad for lucre,     Or for the lust or for the hele:     What man that schal with outher dele,     He mai noght faile to repente.     Mi fader, such is myn entente:     Bot natheles good is to have,     For good mai ofte time save    2840     The love which scholde elles spille.     Bot god, which wot myn hertes wille,     I dar wel take to witnesse,     Yit was I nevere for richesse     Beset with mariage non;     For al myn herte is upon on     So frely, that in the persone     Stant al my worldes joie al one:     I axe nouther Park ne Plowh,     If I hire hadde, it were ynowh,        2850     Hir love scholde me suffise     Withouten other coveitise.     Lo now, mi fader, as of this,     Touchende of me riht as it is,     Mi schrifte I am beknowe plein;     And if ye wole oght elles sein,     Of covoitise if ther be more     In love, agropeth out the sore.     Mi Sone, thou schalt understonde     Hou Coveitise hath yit on honde        2860     In special tuo conseilours,     That ben also hise procurours.     The ferst of hem is Falswitnesse,     Which evere is redi to witnesse     What thing his maister wol him hote:     Perjurie is the secounde hote,     Which spareth noght to swere an oth,     Thogh it be fals and god be wroth.     That on schal falswitnesse bere,     That other schal the thing forswere,    2870     Whan he is charged on the bok.     So what with hepe and what with crok     Thei make here maister ofte winne     And wol noght knowe what is sinne     For coveitise, and thus, men sain,     Thei maken many a fals bargain.     Ther mai no trewe querele arise     In thilke queste and thilke assise,     Where as thei tuo the poeple enforme;     For thei kepe evere o maner forme,        2880     That upon gold here conscience     Thei founde, and take here evidence;     And thus with falswitnesse and othes     Thei winne hem mete and drinke and clothes.     Riht so ther be, who that hem knewe,     Of thes lovers ful many untrewe:     Nou mai a womman finde ynowe,     That ech of hem, whan he schal wowe,     Anon he wole his hand doun lein     Upon a bok, and swere and sein    2890     That he wole feith and trouthe bere;     And thus he profreth him to swere     To serven evere til he die,     And al is verai tricherie.     For whan the sothe himselven trieth,     The more he swerth, the more he lieth;     Whan he his feith makth althermest,     Than mai a womman truste him lest;     For til he mai his will achieve,     He is no lengere forto lieve.     2900     Thus is the trouthe of love exiled,     And many a good womman beguiled.     And ek to speke of Falswitnesse,     There be nou many suche, I gesse,     That lich unto the provisours     Thei make here prive procurours,     To telle hou ther is such a man,     Which is worthi to love and can     Al that a good man scholde kunne;     So that with lesinge is begunne        2910     The cause in which thei wole procede,     And also siker as the crede     Thei make of that thei knowen fals.     And thus fulofte aboute the hals     Love is of false men embraced;     Bot love which is so pourchaced     Comth afterward to litel pris.     Forthi, mi Sone, if thou be wis,     Nou thou hast herd this evidence,     Thou miht thin oghne conscience        2920     Oppose, if thou hast ben such on.     Nai, god wot, fader I am non,     Ne nevere was; for as men seith,     Whan that a man schal make his feith,     His herte and tunge moste acorde;     For if so be that thei discorde,     Thanne is he fals and elles noght:     And I dar seie, as of my thoght,     In love it is noght descordable     Unto mi word, bot acordable.        2930     And in this wise, fader, I     Mai riht wel swere and salvely,     That I mi ladi love wel,     For that acordeth everydel.     It nedeth noght to mi sothsawe     That I witnesse scholde drawe,     Into this dai for nevere yit     Ne mihte it sinke into mi wit,     That I my conseil scholde seie     To eny wiht, or me bewreie     2940     To sechen help in such manere,     Bot only of mi ladi diere.     And thogh a thousend men it wiste,     That I hire love, and thanne hem liste     With me to swere and to witnesse,     Yit were that no falswitnesse;     For I dar on this trouthe duelle,     I love hire mor than I can telle.     Thus am I, fader, gulteles,     As ye have herd, and natheles     2950     In youre dom I put it al.     Mi Sone, wite in special,     It schal noght comunliche faile,     Al thogh it for a time availe     That Falswitnesse his cause spede,     Upon the point of his falshiede     It schal wel afterward be kid;     Wherof, so as it is betid,     Ensample of suche thinges blinde     In a Cronique write I finde.        2960     The Goddesse of the See Thetis,     Sche hadde a Sone, and his name is     Achilles, whom to kepe and warde,     Whil he was yong, as into warde     Sche thoghte him salfly to betake,     As sche which dradde for his sake     Of that was seid in prophecie,     That he at Troie scholde die,     Whan that the Cite was belein.     Forthi, so as the bokes sein,     2970     Sche caste hire wit in sondri wise,     Hou sche him mihte so desguise     That noman scholde his bodi knowe:     And so befell that ilke throwe,     Whil that sche thoghte upon this dede,     Ther was a king, which Lichomede     Was hote, and he was wel begon     With faire dowhtres manyon,     And duelte fer out in an yle.     Nou schalt thou hiere a wonder wyle:    2980     This queene, which the moder was     Of Achilles, upon this cas     Hire Sone, as he a Maiden were,     Let clothen in the same gere     Which longeth unto wommanhiede:     And he was yong and tok non hiede,     Bot soffreth al that sche him dede.     Wherof sche hath hire wommen bede     And charged be here othes alle,     Hou so it afterward befalle,        2990     That thei discovere noght this thing,     Bot feigne and make a knowleching,     Upon the conseil which was nome,     In every place wher thei come     To telle and to witnesse this,     Hou he here ladi dowhter is.     And riht in such a maner wise     Sche bad thei scholde hire don servise,     So that Achilles underfongeth     As to a yong ladi belongeth    3000     Honour, servise and reverence.     For Thetis with gret diligence     Him hath so tawht and so afaited,     That, hou so that it were awaited,     With sobre and goodli contenance     He scholde his wommanhiede avance,     That non the sothe knowe myhte,     Bot that in every mannes syhte     He scholde seme a pure Maide.     And in such wise as sche him saide,     3010     Achilles, which that ilke while     Was yong, upon himself to smyle     Began, whan he was so besein.     And thus, after the bokes sein,     With frette of Perle upon his hed,     Al freissh betwen the whyt and red,     As he which tho was tendre of Age,     Stod the colour in his visage,     That forto loke upon his cheke     And sen his childly manere eke,        3020     He was a womman to beholde.     And thanne his moder to him tolde,     That sche him hadde so begon     Be cause that sche thoghte gon     To Lichomede at thilke tyde,     Wher that sche seide he scholde abyde     Among hise dowhtres forto duelle.     Achilles herde his moder telle,     And wiste noght the cause why;     And natheles ful buxomly    3030     He was redy to that sche bad,     Wherof his moder was riht glad,     To Lichomede and forth thei wente.     And whan the king knew hire entente,     And sih this yonge dowhter there,     And that it cam unto his Ere     Of such record, of such witnesse,     He hadde riht a gret gladnesse     Of that he bothe syh and herde,     As he that wot noght hou it ferde    3040     Upon the conseil of the nede.     Bot for al that king Lichomede     Hath toward him this dowhter take,     And for Thetis his moder sake     He put hire into compainie     To duelle with Dei5damie,     His oghne dowhter, the eldeste,     The faireste and the comelieste     Of alle hise doghtres whiche he hadde.     Lo, thus Thetis the cause ladde,     3050     And lefte there Achilles feigned,     As he which hath himself restreigned     In al that evere he mai and can     Out of the manere of a man,     And tok his wommannysshe chiere,     Wherof unto his beddefere     Dei5damie he hath be nyhte.     Wher kinde wole himselve rihte,     After the Philosophres sein,     Ther mai no wiht be therayein:    3060     And that was thilke time seene.     The longe nyhtes hem betuene     Nature, which mai noght forbere,     Hath mad hem bothe forto stere:     Thei kessen ferst, and overmore     The hihe weie of loves lore     Thei gon, and al was don in dede,     Wherof lost is the maydenhede;     And that was afterward wel knowe.     For it befell that ilke throwe    3070     At Troie, wher the Siege lay     Upon the cause of Menelay     And of his queene dame Heleine,     The Gregois hadden mochel peine     Alday to fihte and to assaile.     Bot for thei mihten noght availe     So noble a Cite forto winne,     A prive conseil thei beginne,     In sondri wise wher thei trete;     And ate laste among the grete     3080     Thei fellen unto this acord,     That Prothe
s, of his record     Which was an Astronomien     And ek a gret Magicien,     Scholde of his calculacion     Seche after constellacion,     Hou thei the Cite mihten gete:     And he, which hadde noght foryete     Of that belongeth to a clerk,     His studie sette upon this werk.     3090     So longe his wit aboute he caste,     Til that he fond out ate laste,     Bot if they hadden Achilles     Here werre schal ben endeles.     And over that he tolde hem plein     In what manere he was besein,     And in what place he schal be founde;     So that withinne a litel stounde     Ulixes forth with Diomede     Upon this point to Lichomede                3100     Agamenon togedre sente.     Bot Ulixes, er he forth wente,     Which was on of the moste wise,     Ordeigned hath in such a wise,     That he the moste riche aray,     Wherof a womman mai be gay,     With him hath take manyfold,     And overmore, as it is told,     An harneis for a lusti kniht,     Which burned was as Selver bryht,    3110     Of swerd, of plate and ek of maile,     As thogh he scholde to bataille,     He tok also with him be Schipe.     And thus togedre in felaschipe     Forth gon this Diomede and he     In hope til thei mihten se     The place where Achilles is.     The wynd stod thanne noght amis,     Bot evene topseilcole it blew,     Til Ulixes the Marche knew,    3120     Wher Lichomede his Regne hadde.     The Stieresman so wel hem ladde,     That thei ben comen sauf to londe,     Wher thei gon out upon the stronde     Into the Burgh, wher that thei founde     The king, and he which hath facounde,     Ulixes, dede the message.     Bot the conseil of his corage,     Why that he cam, he tolde noght,     Bot undernethe he was bethoght    3130     In what manere he mihte aspie     Achilles fro Dei5damie     And fro these othre that ther were,     Full many a lusti ladi there.     Thei pleide hem there a day or tuo,     And as it was fortuned so,     It fell that time in such a wise,     To Bachus that a sacrifise     Thes yonge ladys scholden make;     And for the strange mennes sake,     3140     That comen fro the Siege of Troie,     Thei maden wel the more joie.     Ther was Revel, ther was daunsinge,     And every lif which coude singe     Of lusti wommen in the route     A freissh carole hath sunge aboute;     Bot for al this yit natheles     The Greks unknowe of Achilles     So weren, that in no degre     Thei couden wite which was he,    3150     Ne be his vois, ne be his pas.     Ulixes thanne upon this cas     A thing of hih Prudence hath wroght:     For thilke aray, which he hath broght     To yive among the wommen there,     He let do fetten al the gere     Forth with a knihtes harneis eke,-     In al a contre forto seke     Men scholden noght a fairer se,-     And every thing in his degre        3160     Endlong upon a bord he leide.     To Lichomede and thanne he preide     That every ladi chese scholde     What thing of alle that sche wolde,     And take it as be weie of yifte;     For thei hemself it scholde schifte,     He seide, after here oghne wille.     Achilles thanne stod noght stille:     Whan he the bryhte helm behield,     The swerd, the hauberk and the Schield,    3170     His herte fell therto anon;     Of all that othre wolde he non,     The knihtes gere he underfongeth,     And thilke aray which that belongeth     Unto the wommen he forsok.     And in this wise, as seith the bok,     Thei knowen thanne which he was:     For he goth forth the grete pas     Into the chambre where he lay;     Anon, and made no delay,    3180     He armeth him in knyhtli wise,     That bettre can noman devise,     And as fortune scholde falle,     He cam so forth tofore hem alle,     As he which tho was glad ynowh.     But Lichomede nothing lowh,     Whan that he syh hou that it ferde,     For thanne he wiste wel and herde,     His dowhter hadde be forlein;     Bot that he was so oversein,        3190     The wonder overgoth his wit.     For in Cronique is write yit     Thing which schal nevere be foryete,     Hou that Achilles hath begete     Pirrus upon Dei5damie,     Wherof cam out the tricherie     Of Falswitnesse, whan thei saide     Hou that Achilles was a Maide.     Bot that was nothing sene tho,     For he is to the Siege go        3200     Forth with Ulixe and Diomede.     Lo, thus was proved in the dede     And fulli spoke at thilke while:     If o womman an other guile,     Wher is ther eny sikernesse?     Whan Thetis, which was the goddesse,     Dei5damie hath so bejaped,     I not hou it schal ben ascaped     With tho wommen whos innocence     Is nou alday thurgh such credence    3210     Deceived ofte, as it is seene,     With men that such untrouthe meene.     For thei ben slyhe in such a wise,     That thei be sleihte and be queintise     Of Falswitnesse bringen inne     That doth hem ofte forto winne,     Wher thei ben noght worthi therto.     Forthi, my Sone, do noght so.     Mi fader, as of Falswitnesse     The trouthe and the matiere expresse,        3220     Touchende of love hou it hath ferd,     As ye have told, I have wel herd.     Bot for ye seiden otherwise,     Hou thilke vice of Covoitise     Hath yit Perjurie of his acord,     If that you list of som record     To telle an other tale also     In loves cause of time ago,     What thing it is to be forswore,     I wolde preie you therfore,    3230     Wherof I mihte ensample take.     Mi goode Sone, and for thi sake     Touchende of this I schall fulfille     Thin axinge at thin oghne wille,     And the matiere I schal declare,     Hou the wommen deceived are,     Whan thei so tendre herte bere,     Of that thei hieren men so swere;     Bot whan it comth unto thassay,     Thei finde it fals an other day:     3240     As Jason dede to Medee,     Which stant yet of Auctorite     In tokne and in memorial;     Wherof the tale in special     Is in the bok of Troie write,     Which I schal do thee forto wite.     In Grece whilom was a king,     Of whom the fame and knowleching     Beleveth yit, and Pele
s     He hihte; bot it fell him thus,        3250     That his fortune hir whiel so ladde     That he no child his oghne hadde     To regnen after his decess.     He hadde a brother natheles,     Whos rihte name was Eson,     And he the worthi kniht Jason     Begat, the which in every lond     Alle othre passede of his hond     In Armes, so that he the beste     Was named and the worthieste,     3260     He soghte worschipe overal.     Nou herkne, and I thee telle schal     An aventure that he soghte,     Which afterward ful dere he boghte.     Ther was an yle, which Colchos     Was cleped, and therof aros     Gret speche in every lond aboute,     That such merveile was non oute     In al the wyde world nawhere,     As tho was in that yle there.     3270     Ther was a Schiep, as it was told,     The which his flees bar al of gold,     And so the goddes hadde it set,     That it ne mihte awei be fet     Be pouer of no worldes wiht:     And yit ful many a worthi kniht     It hadde assaied, as thei dorste,     And evere it fell hem to the worste.     Bot he, that wolde it noght forsake,     Bot of his knyhthod undertake     3280     To do what thing therto belongeth,     This worthi Jason, sore alongeth     To se the strange regiouns     And knowe the condiciouns     Of othre Marches, where he wente;     And for that cause his hole entente     He sette Colchos forto seche,     And therupon he made a speche     To Pele
s his Em the king.     And he wel paid was of that thing;        3290     And schop anon for his passage,     And suche as were of his lignage,     With othre knihtes whiche he ches,     With him he tok, and Hercules,     Which full was of chivalerie,     With Jason wente in compaignie;     And that was in the Monthe of Maii,     Whan colde stormes were away.     The wynd was good, the Schip was yare,     Thei tok here leve, and forth thei fare    3300     Toward Colchos: bot on the weie     What hem befell is long to seie;     Hou Lamedon the king of Troie,     Which oghte wel have mad hem joie.     Whan thei to reste a while him preide,     Out of his lond he hem congeide;     And so fell the dissencion,     Which after was destruccion     Of that Cite, as men mai hiere:     Bot that is noght to mi matiere.     3310     Bot thus this worthi folk Gregeis     Fro that king, which was noght curteis,     And fro his lond with Sail updrawe     Thei wente hem forth, and many a sawe     Thei made and many a gret manace,     Til ate laste into that place     Which as thei soghte thei aryve,     And striken Sail, and forth as blyve     Thei sente unto the king and tolden     Who weren ther and what thei wolden.    3320     Oe5tes, which was thanne king,     Whan that he herde this tyding     Of Jason, which was comen there,     And of these othre, what thei were,     He thoghte don hem gret worschipe:     For thei anon come out of Schipe,     And strawht unto the king thei wente,     And be the hond Jason he hente,     And that was ate paleis gate,     So fer the king cam on his gate        3330     Toward Jason to don him chiere;     And he, whom lacketh no manere,     Whan he the king sih in presence,     Yaf him ayein such reverence     As to a kinges stat belongeth.     And thus the king him underfongeth,     And Jason in his arm he cawhte,     And forth into the halle he strawhte,     And ther they siete and spieke of thinges,     And Jason tolde him tho tidinges,    3340     Why he was come, and faire him preide     To haste his time, and the kyng seide,     "Jason, thou art a worthi kniht,     Bot it lith in no mannes myht     To don that thou art come fore:     Ther hath be many a kniht forlore     Of that thei wolden it assaie."     Bot Jason wolde him noght esmaie,     And seide, "Of every worldes cure     Fortune stant in aventure,     3350     Per aunter wel, per aunter wo:     Bot hou as evere that it go,     It schal be with myn hond assaied."     The king tho hield him noght wel paied,     For he the Grekes sore dredde,     In aunter, if Jason ne spedde,     He mihte therof bere a blame;     For tho was al the worldes fame     In Grece, as forto speke of Armes.     Forthi he dredde him of his harmes,             3360     And gan to preche him and to preie;     Bot Jason wolde noght obeie,     Bot seide he wolde his porpos holde     For ought that eny man him tolde.     The king, whan he thes wordes herde,     And sih hou that this kniht ansuerde,     Yit for he wolde make him glad,     After Medea gon he bad,     Which was his dowhter, and sche cam.     And Jason, which good hiede nam,     3370     Whan he hire sih, ayein hire goth;     And sche, which was him nothing loth,     Welcomede him into that lond,     And softe tok him be the hond,     And doun thei seten bothe same.     Sche hadde herd spoke of his name     And of his grete worthinesse;     Forthi sche gan hir yhe impresse     Upon his face and his stature,     And thoghte hou nevere creature        3380     Was so wel farende as was he.     And Jason riht in such degre     Ne mihte noght withholde his lok,     Bot so good hiede on hire he tok,     That him ne thoghte under the hevene     Of beaute sawh he nevere hir evene,     With al that fell to wommanhiede.     Thus ech of other token hiede,     Thogh ther no word was of record;     Here hertes bothe of on acord     3390     Ben set to love, bot as tho     Ther mihten be no wordes mo.     The king made him gret joie and feste,     To alle his men he yaf an heste,     So as thei wolde his thonk deserve,     That thei scholde alle Jason serve,     Whil that he wolde there duelle.     And thus the dai, schortly to telle,     With manye merthes thei despente,     Til nyht was come, and tho thei wente,     3400     Echon of other tok his leve,     Whan thei no lengere myhten leve.     I not hou Jason that nyht slep,     Bot wel I wot that of the Schep,     For which he cam into that yle,     He thoghte bot a litel whyle;     Al was Medea that he thoghte,     So that in many a wise he soghte     His witt wakende er it was day,     Som time yee, som time nay,    3410     Som time thus, som time so,     As he was stered to and fro     Of love, and ek of his conqueste     As he was holde of his beheste.     And thus he ros up be the morwe     And tok himself seint John to borwe,     And seide he wolde ferst beginne     At love, and after forto winne     The flees of gold, for which he com,     And thus to him good herte he nom.        3420     Medea riht the same wise,     Til dai cam that sche moste arise,     Lay and bethoughte hire al the nyht,     Hou sche that noble worthi kniht     Be eny weie mihte wedde:     And wel sche wiste, if he ne spedde     Of thing which he hadde undertake,     Sche mihte hirself no porpos take;     For if he deide of his bataile,     Sche moste thanne algate faile    3430     To geten him, whan he were ded.     Thus sche began to sette red     And torne aboute hir wittes alle,     To loke hou that it mihte falle     That sche with him hadde a leisir     To speke and telle of hir desir.     And so it fell that same day     That Jason with that suete may     Togedre sete and hadden space     To speke, and he besoughte hir grace.        3440     And sche his tale goodli herde,     And afterward sche him ansuerde     And seide, "Jason, as thou wilt,     Thou miht be sauf, thou miht be spilt;     For wite wel that nevere man,     Bot if he couthe that I can,     Ne mihte that fortune achieve     For which thou comst: bot as I lieve,     If thou wolt holde covenant     To love, of al the remenant    3450     I schal thi lif and honour save,     That thou the flees of gold schalt have."     He seide, "Al at youre oghne wille,     Ma dame, I schal treuly fulfille     Youre heste, whil mi lif mai laste."     Thus longe he preide, and ate laste     Sche granteth, and behihte him this,     That whan nyht comth and it time is,     Sche wolde him sende certeinly     Such on that scholde him prively     3460     Al one into hire chambre bringe.     He thonketh hire of that tidinge,     For of that grace him is begonne     Him thenkth alle othre thinges wonne.     The dai made ende and lost his lyht,     And comen was the derke nyht,     Which al the daies yhe blente.     Jason tok leve and forth he wente,     And whan he cam out of the pres,     He tok to conseil Hercules,    3470     And tolde him hou it was betid,     And preide it scholde wel ben hid,     And that he wolde loke aboute,     Therwhiles that he schal ben oute.     Thus as he stod and hiede nam,     A Mayden fro Medea cam     And to hir chambre Jason ledde,     Wher that he fond redi to bedde     The faireste and the wiseste eke;     And sche with simple chiere and meke,        3480     Whan sche him sih, wax al aschamed.     Tho was here tale newe entamed;     For sikernesse of Mariage     Sche fette forth a riche ymage,     Which was figure of Jupiter,     And Jason swor and seide ther,     That also wiss god scholde him helpe,     That if Medea dede him helpe,     That he his pourpos myhte winne,     Thei scholde nevere parte atwinne,        3490     Bot evere whil him lasteth lif,     He wolde hire holde for his wif.     And with that word thei kisten bothe;     And for thei scholden hem unclothe,     Ther cam a Maide, and in hir wise     Sche dede hem bothe full servise,     Til that thei were in bedde naked:     I wot that nyht was wel bewaked,     Thei hadden bothe what thei wolde.     And thanne of leisir sche him tolde,    3500     And gan fro point to point enforme     Of his bataile and al the forme,     Which as he scholde finde there,     Whan he to thyle come were.     Sche seide, at entre of the pas     Hou Mars, which god of Armes was,     Hath set tuo Oxen sterne and stoute,     That caste fyr and flamme aboute     Bothe at the mouth and ate nase,     So that thei setten al on blase        3510     What thing that passeth hem betwene:     And forthermore upon the grene     Ther goth the flees of gold to kepe     A Serpent, which mai nevere slepe.     Thus who that evere scholde it winne,     The fyr to stoppe he mot beginne,     Which that the fierce bestes caste,     And daunte he mot hem ate laste,     So that he mai hem yoke and dryve;     And therupon he mot as blyve        3520     The Serpent with such strengthe assaile,     That he mai slen him be bataile;     Of which he mot the teth outdrawe,     As it belongeth to that lawe,     And thanne he mot tho Oxen yoke,     Til thei have with a plowh tobroke     A furgh of lond, in which arowe     The teth of thaddre he moste sowe,     And therof schule arise knihtes     Wel armed up at alle rihtes.        3530     Of hem is noght to taken hiede,     For ech of hem in hastihiede     Schal other slen with dethes wounde:     And thus whan thei ben leid to grounde,     Than mot he to the goddes preie,     And go so forth and take his preie.     Bot if he faile in eny wise     Of that ye hiere me devise,     Ther mai be set non other weie,     That he ne moste algates deie.    3540     "Nou have I told the peril al:     I woll you tellen forth withal,"     Quod Medea to Jason tho,     "That ye schul knowen er ye go,     Ayein the venym and the fyr     What schal ben the recoverir.     Bot, Sire, for it is nyh day,     Ariseth up, so that I may     Delivere you what thing I have,     That mai youre lif and honour save."    3550     Thei weren bothe loth to rise,     Bot for thei weren bothe wise,     Up thei arisen ate laste:     Jason his clothes on him caste     And made him redi riht anon,     And sche hir scherte dede upon     And caste on hire a mantel clos,     Withoute more and thanne aros.     Tho tok sche forth a riche Tye     Mad al of gold and of Perrie,     3560     Out of the which sche nam a Ring,     The Ston was worth al other thing.     Sche seide, whil he wolde it were,     Ther myhte no peril him dere,     In water mai it noght be dreynt,     Wher as it comth the fyr is queynt,     It daunteth ek the cruel beste,     Ther may no qued that man areste,     Wher so he be on See or lond,     Which hath that ring upon his hond:     3570     And over that sche gan to sein,     That if a man wol ben unsein,     Withinne his hond hold clos the Ston,     And he mai invisible gon.     The Ring to Jason sche betauhte,     And so forth after sche him tauhte     What sacrifise he scholde make;     And gan out of hire cofre take     Him thoughte an hevenely figure,     Which al be charme and be conjure    3580     Was wroght, and ek it was thurgh write     With names, which he scholde wite,     As sche him tauhte tho to rede;     And bad him, as he wolde spede,     Withoute reste of eny while,     Whan he were londed in that yle,     He scholde make his sacrifise     And rede his carecte in the wise     As sche him tauhte, on knes doun bent,     Thre sithes toward orient;             3590     For so scholde he the goddes plese     And winne himselven mochel ese.     And whanne he hadde it thries rad,     To opne a buiste sche him bad,     Which sche ther tok him in present,     And was full of such oignement,     That ther was fyr ne venym non     That scholde fastnen him upon,     Whan that he were enoynt withal.     Forthi sche tauhte him hou he schal     3600     Enoignte his armes al aboute,     And for he scholde nothing doute,     Sche tok him thanne a maner glu,     The which was of so gret vertu,     That where a man it wolde caste,     It scholde binde anon so faste     That noman mihte it don aweie.     And that sche bad be alle weie     He scholde into the mouthes throwen     Of tho tweie Oxen that fyr blowen,        3610     Therof to stoppen the malice;     The glu schal serve of that office.     And over that hir oignement,     Hir Ring and hir enchantement     Ayein the Serpent scholde him were,     Til he him sle with swerd or spere:     And thanne he may saufliche ynowh     His Oxen yoke into the plowh     And the teth sowe in such a wise,     Til he the knyhtes se arise,        3620     And ech of other doun be leid     In such manere as I have seid.     Lo, thus Medea for Jason     Ordeigneth, and preith therupon     That he nothing foryete scholde,     And ek sche preith him that he wolde,     Whan he hath alle his Armes don,     To grounde knele and thonke anon     The goddes, and so forth be ese     The flees of gold he scholde sese.        3630     And whanne he hadde it sesed so,     That thanne he were sone ago     Withouten eny tariynge.     Whan this was seid, into wepinge     Sche fell, as sche that was thurgh nome     With love, and so fer overcome,     That al hir world on him sche sette.     Bot whan sche sih ther was no lette,     That he mot nedes parte hire fro,     Sche tok him in hire armes tuo,        3640     An hundred time and gan him kisse,     And seide, "O, al mi worldes blisse,     Mi trust, mi lust, mi lif, min hele,     To be thin helpe in this querele     I preie unto the goddes alle."     And with that word sche gan doun falle     On swoune, and he hire uppe nam,     And forth with that the Maiden cam,     And thei to bedde anon hir broghte,     And thanne Jason hire besoghte,        3650     And to hire seide in this manere:     "Mi worthi lusti ladi dere,     Conforteth you, for be my trouthe     It schal noght fallen in mi slouthe     That I ne wol thurghout fulfille     Youre hestes at youre oghne wille.     And yit I hope to you bringe     Withinne a while such tidinge,     The which schal make ous bothe game."     Bot for he wolde kepe hir name,        3660     Whan that he wiste it was nyh dai,     He seide, "A dieu, mi swete mai."     And forth with him he nam his gere,     Which as sche hadde take him there,     And strauht unto his chambre he wente,     And goth to bedde and slep him hente,     And lay, that noman him awok,     For Hercules hiede of him tok,     Til it was undren hih and more.     And thanne he gan to sighe sore        3670     And sodeinliche abreide of slep;     And thei that token of him kep,     His chamberleins, be sone there,     And maden redi al his gere,     And he aros and to the king     He wente, and seide hou to that thing     For which he cam he wolde go.     The king therof was wonder wo,     And for he wolde him fain withdrawe,     He tolde him many a dredful sawe,    3680     Bot Jason wolde it noght recorde,     And ate laste thei acorde.     Whan that he wolde noght abide,     A Bot was redy ate tyde,     In which this worthi kniht of Grece     Ful armed up at every piece,     To his bataile which belongeth,     Tok ore on honde and sore him longeth,     Til he the water passed were.     Whan he cam to that yle there,    3690     He set him on his knes doun strauht,     And his carecte, as he was tawht,     He radde, and made his sacrifise,     And siththe enoignte him in that wise,     As Medea him hadde bede;     And thanne aros up fro that stede,     And with the glu the fyr he queynte,     And anon after he atteinte     The grete Serpent and him slowh.     Bot erst he hadde sorwe ynowh,    3700     For that Serpent made him travaile     So harde and sore of his bataile,     That nou he stod and nou he fell:     For longe time it so befell,     That with his swerd ne with his spere     He mihte noght that Serpent dere.     He was so scherded al aboute,     It hield all eggetol withoute,     He was so ruide and hard of skin,     Ther mihte nothing go therin;     3710     Venym and fyr togedre he caste,     That he Jason so sore ablaste,     That if ne were his oignement,     His Ring and his enchantement,     Which Medea tok him tofore,     He hadde with that worm be lore;     Bot of vertu which therof cam     Jason the Dragon overcam.     And he anon the teth outdrouh,     And sette his Oxen in a plouh,    3720     With which he brak a piece of lond     And sieu hem with his oghne hond.     Tho mihte he gret merveile se:     Of every toth in his degre     Sprong up a kniht with spere and schield,     Of whiche anon riht in the field     Echon slow other; and with that     Jason Medea noght foryat,     On bothe his knes he gan doun falle,     And yaf thonk to the goddes alle.    3730     The Flees he tok and goth to Bote,     The Sonne schyneth bryhte and hote,     The Flees of gold schon forth withal,     The water glistreth overal.     Medea wepte and sigheth ofte,     And stod upon a Tour alofte:     Al prively withinne hirselve,     Ther herde it nouther ten ne tuelve,     Sche preide, and seide, "O, god him spede,     The kniht which hath mi maidenhiede!"        3740     And ay sche loketh toward thyle.     Bot whan sche sih withinne a while     The Flees glistrende ayein the Sonne,     Sche saide, "Ha, lord, now al is wonne,     Mi kniht the field hath overcome:     Nou wolde god he were come;     Ha lord, that he ne were alonde!"     Bot I dar take this on honde,     If that sche hadde wynges tuo,     Sche wolde have flowe unto him tho        3750     Strawht ther he was into the Bot.     The dai was clier, the Sonne hot,     The Gregeis weren in gret doute,     The whyle that here lord was oute:     Thei wisten noght what scholde tyde,     Bot waiten evere upon the tyde,     To se what ende scholde falle.     Ther stoden ek the nobles alle     Forth with the comun of the toun;     And as thei loken up and doun,    3760     Thei weren war withinne a throwe,     Wher cam the bot, which thei wel knowe,     And sihe hou Jason broghte his preie.     And tho thei gonnen alle seie,     And criden alle with o stevene,     "Ha, wher was evere under the hevene     So noble a knyht as Jason is?"     And welnyh alle seiden this,     That Jason was a faie kniht,     For it was nevere of mannes miht     3770     The Flees of gold so forto winne;     And thus to talen thei beginne.     With that the king com forth anon,     And sih the Flees, hou that it schon;     And whan Jason cam to the lond,     The king himselve tok his hond     And kist him, and gret joie him made.     The Gregeis weren wonder glade,     And of that thing riht merie hem thoghte,     And forth with hem the Flees thei broghte,    3780     And ech on other gan to leyhe;     Bot wel was him that mihte neyhe,     To se therof the proprete.     And thus thei passen the cite     And gon unto the Paleis straght.     Medea, which foryat him naght,     Was redy there, and seide anon,     "Welcome, O worthi kniht Jason."     Sche wolde have kist him wonder fayn,     Bot schame tornede hire agayn;    3790     It was noght the manere as tho,     Forthi sche dorste noght do so.     Sche tok hire leve, and Jason wente     Into his chambre, and sche him sente     Hire Maide to sen hou he ferde;     The which whan that sche sih and herde,     Hou that he hadde faren oute     And that it stod wel al aboute,     Sche tolde hire ladi what sche wiste,     And sche for joie hire Maide kiste.     3800     The bathes weren thanne araied,     With herbes tempred and assaied,     And Jason was unarmed sone     And dede as it befell to done:     Into his bath he wente anon     And wyssh him clene as eny bon;     He tok a sopp, and oute he cam,     And on his beste aray he nam,     And kempde his hed, whan he was clad,     And goth him forth al merie and glad    3810     Riht strawht into the kinges halle.     The king cam with his knihtes alle     And maden him glad welcominge;     And he hem tolde the tidinge     Of this and that, hou it befell,     Whan that he wan the schepes fell.     Medea, whan sche was asent,     Com sone to that parlement,     And whan sche mihte Jason se,     Was non so glad of alle as sche.     3820     Ther was no joie forto seche,     Of him mad every man a speche,     Som man seide on, som man seide other;     Bot thogh he were goddes brother     And mihte make fyr and thonder,     Ther mihte be nomore wonder     Than was of him in that cite.     Echon tauhte other, "This is he,     Which hath in his pouer withinne     That al the world ne mihte winne:    3830     Lo, hier the beste of alle goode."     Thus saiden thei that there stode,     And ek that walkede up and doun,     Bothe of the Court and of the toun.     The time of Souper cam anon,     Thei wisshen and therto thei gon,     Medea was with Jason set:     Tho was ther many a deynte fet     And set tofore hem on the bord,     Bot non so likinge as the word    3840     Which was ther spoke among hem tuo,     So as thei dorste speke tho.     Bot thogh thei hadden litel space,     Yit thei acorden in that place     Hou Jason scholde come at nyht,     Whan every torche and every liht     Were oute, and thanne of other thinges     Thei spieke aloud for supposinges     Of hem that stoden there aboute:     For love is everemore in doute,        3850     If that it be wisly governed     Of hem that ben of love lerned.     Whan al was don, that dissh and cuppe     And cloth and bord and al was uppe,     Thei waken whil hem lest to wake,     And after that thei leve take     And gon to bedde forto reste.     And whan him thoghte for the beste,     That every man was faste aslepe,     Jason, that wolde his time kepe,     3860     Goth forth stalkende al prively     Unto the chambre, and redely     Ther was a Maide, which him kepte.     Medea wok and nothing slepte,     Bot natheles sche was abedde,     And he with alle haste him spedde     And made him naked and al warm.     Anon he tok hire in his arm:     What nede is forto speke of ese?     Hem list ech other forto plese,        3870     So that thei hadden joie ynow:     And tho thei setten whanne and how     That sche with him awey schal stele.     With wordes suche and othre fele     Whan al was treted to an ende,     Jason tok leve and gan forth wende     Unto his oughne chambre in pes;     Ther wiste it non bot Hercules.     He slepte and ros whan it was time,     And whanne it fell towardes prime,        3880     He tok to him suche as he triste     In secre, that non other wiste,     And told hem of his conseil there,     And seide that his wille were     That thei to Schipe hadde alle thinge     So priveliche in thevenynge,     That noman mihte here dede aspie     Bot tho that were of compaignie:     For he woll go withoute leve,     And lengere woll he noght beleve;    3890     Bot he ne wolde at thilke throwe     The king or queene scholde it knowe.     Thei saide, "Al this schal wel be do:"     And Jason truste wel therto.     Medea in the mene while,     Which thoghte hir fader to beguile,     The Tresor which hir fader hadde     With hire al priveli sche ladde,     And with Jason at time set     Awey sche stal and fond no let,        3900     And straght sche goth hire unto schipe     Of Grece with that felaschipe,     And thei anon drowe up the Seil.     And al that nyht this was conseil,     Bot erly, whan the Sonne schon,     Men syhe hou that thei were agon,     And come unto the king and tolde:     And he the sothe knowe wolde,     And axeth where his dowhter was.     Ther was no word bot Out, Allas!     3910     Sche was ago. The moder wepte,     The fader as a wod man lepte,     And gan the time forto warie,     And swor his oth he wol noght tarie,     That with Caliphe and with galeie     The same cours, the same weie,     Which Jason tok, he wolde take,     If that he mihte him overtake.     To this thei seiden alle yee:     Anon thei weren ate See,    3920     And alle, as who seith, at a word     Thei gon withinne schipes bord,     The Sail goth up, and forth thei strauhte.     Bot non espleit therof thei cauhte,     And so thei tornen hom ayein,     For al that labour was in vein.     Jason to Grece with his preie     Goth thurgh the See the rihte weie:     Whan he ther com and men it tolde,     Thei maden joie yonge and olde.        3930     Eson, whan that he wiste of this,     Hou that his Sone comen is,     And hath achieved that he soughte     And hom with him Medea broughte,     In al the wyde world was non     So glad a man as he was on.     Togedre ben these lovers tho,     Til that thei hadden sones tuo,     Wherof thei weren bothe glade,     And olde Eson gret joie made        3940     To sen thencress of his lignage;     For he was of so gret an Age,     That men awaiten every day,     Whan that he scholde gon away.     Jason, which sih his fader old,     Upon Medea made him bold,     Of art magique, which sche couthe,     And preith hire that his fader youthe     Sche wolde make ayeinward newe:     And sche, that was toward him trewe,    3950     Behihte him that sche wolde it do,     Whan that sche time sawh therto.     Bot what sche dede in that matiere     It is a wonder thing to hiere,     Bot yit for the novellerie     I thenke tellen a partie.     Thus it befell upon a nyht,     Whan ther was noght bot sterreliht,     Sche was vanyssht riht as hir liste,     That no wyht bot hirself it wiste,        3960     And that was ate mydnyht tyde.     The world was stille on every side;     With open hed and fot al bare,     Hir her tosprad sche gan to fare,     Upon hir clothes gert sche was,     Al specheles and on the gras     Sche glod forth as an Addre doth:     Non otherwise sche ne goth,     Til sche cam to the freisshe flod,     And there a while sche withstod.     3970     Thries sche torned hire aboute,     And thries ek sche gan doun loute     And in the flod sche wette hir her,     And thries on the water ther     Sche gaspeth with a drecchinge onde,     And tho sche tok hir speche on honde.     Ferst sche began to clepe and calle     Upward unto the sterres alle,     To Wynd, to Air, to See, to lond     Sche preide, and ek hield up hir hond        3980     To Echates, and gan to crie,     Which is goddesse of Sorcerie.     Sche seide, "Helpeth at this nede,     And as ye maden me to spede,     Whan Jason cam the Flees to seche,     So help me nou, I you beseche."     With that sche loketh and was war,     Doun fro the Sky ther cam a char,     The which Dragouns aboute drowe:     And tho sche gan hir hed doun bowe,     3990     And up sche styh, and faire and wel     Sche drof forth bothe char and whel     Above in thair among the Skyes.     The lond of Crete and tho parties     Sche soughte, and faste gan hire hye,     And there upon the hulles hyhe     Of Othrin and Olimpe also,     And ek of othre hulles mo,     Sche fond and gadreth herbes suote,     Sche pulleth up som be the rote,     4000     And manye with a knyf sche scherth,     And alle into hir char sche berth.     Thus whan sche hath the hulles sought,     The flodes ther foryat sche nought,     Eridian and Amphrisos,     Peneie and ek Sperchei5dos,     To hem sche wente and ther sche nom     Bothe of the water and the fom,     The sond and ek the smale stones,     Whiche as sche ches out for the nones,     4010     And of the rede See a part,     That was behovelich to hire art,     Sche tok, and after that aboute     Sche soughte sondri sedes oute     In feldes and in many greves,     And ek a part sche tok of leves:     Bot thing which mihte hire most availe     Sche fond in Crete and in Thessaile.     In daies and in nyhtes Nyne,     With gret travaile and with gret pyne,     4020     Sche was pourveid of every piece,     And torneth homward into Grece.     Before the gates of Eson     Hir char sche let awai to gon,     And tok out ferst that was therinne;     For tho sche thoghte to beginne     Such thing as semeth impossible,     And made hirselven invisible,     As sche that was with Air enclosed     And mihte of noman be desclosed.     4030     Sche tok up turves of the lond     Withoute helpe of mannes hond,     Al heled with the grene gras,     Of which an Alter mad ther was     Unto Echates the goddesse     Of art magique and the maistresse,     And eft an other to Juvente,     As sche which dede hir hole entente.     Tho tok sche fieldwode and verveyne,     Of herbes ben noght betre tueine,    4040     Of which anon withoute let     These alters ben aboute set:     Tuo sondri puttes faste by     Sche made, and with that hastely     A wether which was blak sche slouh,     And out therof the blod sche drouh     And dede into the pettes tuo;     Warm melk sche putte also therto     With hony meynd: and in such wise     Sche gan to make hir sacrifice,        4050     And cride and preide forth withal     To Pluto the god infernal,     And to the queene Proserpine.     And so sche soghte out al the line     Of hem that longen to that craft,     Behinde was no name laft,     And preide hem alle, as sche wel couthe,     To grante Eson his ferste youthe.     This olde Eson broght forth was tho,     Awei sche bad alle othre go    4060     Upon peril that mihte falle;     And with that word thei wenten alle,     And leften there hem tuo al one.     And tho sche gan to gaspe and gone,     And made signes manyon,     And seide hir wordes therupon;     So that with spellinge of hir charmes     Sche tok Eson in bothe hire armes,     And made him forto slepe faste,     And him upon hire herbes caste.        4070     The blake wether tho sche tok,     And hiewh the fleissh, as doth a cok;     On either alter part sche leide,     And with the charmes that sche seide     A fyr doun fro the Sky alyhte     And made it forto brenne lyhte.     Bot whan Medea sawh it brenne,     Anon sche gan to sterte and renne     The fyri aulters al aboute:     Ther was no beste which goth oute    4080     More wylde than sche semeth ther:     Aboute hir schuldres hyng hir her,     As thogh sche were oute of hir mynde     And torned in an other kynde.     Tho lay ther certein wode cleft,     Of which the pieces nou and eft     Sche made hem in the pettes wete,     And put hem in the fyri hete,     And tok the brond with al the blase,     And thries sche began to rase     4090     Aboute Eson, ther as he slepte;     And eft with water, which sche kepte,     Sche made a cercle aboute him thries,     And eft with fyr of sulphre twyes:     Ful many an other thing sche dede,     Which is noght writen in this stede.     Bot tho sche ran so up and doun,     Sche made many a wonder soun,     Somtime lich unto the cock,     Somtime unto the Laverock,     4100     Somtime kacleth as a Hen,     Somtime spekth as don the men:     And riht so as hir jargoun strangeth,     In sondri wise hir forme changeth,     Sche semeth faie and no womman;     For with the craftes that sche can     Sche was, as who seith, a goddesse,     And what hir liste, more or lesse,     Sche dede, in bokes as we finde,     That passeth over manneskinde.    4110     Bot who that wole of wondres hiere,     What thing sche wroghte in this matiere,     To make an ende of that sche gan,     Such merveile herde nevere man.     Apointed in the newe Mone,     Whan it was time forto done,     Sche sette a caldron on the fyr,     In which was al the hole atir,     Wheron the medicine stod,     Of jus, of water and of blod,     4120     And let it buile in such a plit,     Til that sche sawh the spume whyt;     And tho sche caste in rynde and rote,     And sed and flour that was for bote,     With many an herbe and many a ston,     Wherof sche hath ther many on:     And ek Cimpheius the Serpent     To hire hath alle his scales lent,     Chelidre hire yaf his addres skin,     And sche to builen caste hem in;     4130     A part ek of the horned Oule,     The which men hiere on nyhtes houle;     And of a Raven, which was told     Of nyne hundred wynter old,     Sche tok the hed with al the bile;     And as the medicine it wile,     Sche tok therafter the bouele     Of the Seewolf, and for the hele     Of Eson, with a thousand mo     Of thinges that sche hadde tho,        4140     In that Caldroun togedre as blyve     Sche putte, and tok thanne of Olyve     A drie branche hem with to stere,     The which anon gan floure and bere     And waxe al freissh and grene ayein.     Whan sche this vertu hadde sein,     Sche let the leste drope of alle     Upon the bare flor doun falle;     Anon ther sprong up flour and gras,     Where as the drope falle was,     4150     And wox anon al medwe grene,     So that it mihte wel be sene.     Medea thanne knew and wiste     Hir medicine is forto triste,     And goth to Eson ther he lay,     And tok a swerd was of assay,     With which a wounde upon his side     Sche made, that therout mai slyde     The blod withinne, which was old     And sek and trouble and fieble and cold.        4160     And tho sche tok unto his us     Of herbes al the beste jus,     And poured it into his wounde;     That made his veynes fulle and sounde:     And tho sche made his wounde clos,     And tok his hond, and up he ros;     And tho sche yaf him drinke a drauhte,     Of which his youthe ayein he cauhte,     His hed, his herte and his visage     Lich unto twenty wynter Age;        4170     Hise hore heres were away,     And lich unto the freisshe Maii,     Whan passed ben the colde shoures,     Riht so recovereth he his floures.     Lo, what mihte eny man devise,     A womman schewe in eny wise     Mor hertly love in every stede,     Than Medea to Jason dede?     Ferst sche made him the flees to winne,     And after that fro kiththe and kinne    4180     With gret tresor with him sche stal,     And to his fader forth withal     His Elde hath torned into youthe,     Which thing non other womman couthe:     Bot hou it was to hire aquit,     The remembrance duelleth yit.     King Pele
s his Em was ded,     Jason bar corone on his hed,     Medea hath fulfild his wille:     Bot whanne he scholde of riht fulfille     4190     The trouthe, which to hire afore     He hadde in thyle of Colchos swore,     Tho was Medea most deceived.     For he an other hath received,     Which dowhter was to king Creon,     Creusa sche hihte, and thus Jason,     As he that was to love untrewe,     Medea lefte and tok a newe.     Bot that was after sone aboght:     Medea with hire art hath wroght        4200     Of cloth of gold a mantel riche,     Which semeth worth a kingesriche,     And that was unto Creusa sent     In name of yifte and of present,     For Sosterhode hem was betuene;     And whan that yonge freisshe queene     That mantel lappeth hire aboute,     Anon therof the fyr sprong oute     And brente hir bothe fleissh and bon.     Tho cam Medea to Jason        4210     With bothe his Sones on hire hond,     And seide, "O thou of every lond     The moste untrewe creature,     Lo, this schal be thi forfeture."     With that sche bothe his Sones slouh     Before his yhe, and he outdrouh     His swerd and wold have slayn hir tho,     Bot farewel, sche was ago     Unto Pallas the Court above,     Wher as sche pleigneth upon love,    4220     As sche that was with that goddesse,     And he was left in gret destresse.     Thus miht thou se what sorwe it doth     To swere an oth which is noght soth,     In loves cause namely.     Mi Sone, be wel war forthi,     And kep that thou be noght forswore:     For this, which I have told tofore,     Ovide telleth everydel.     Mi fader, I may lieve it wel,     4230     For I have herde it ofte seie     Hou Jason tok the flees aweie     Fro Colchos, bot yit herde I noght     Be whom it was ferst thider broght.     And for it were good to hiere,     If that you liste at mi preiere     To telle, I wolde you beseche.     Mi Sone, who that wole it seche,     In bokes he mai finde it write;     And natheles, if thou wolt wite,     4240     In the manere as thou hast preid     I schal the telle hou it is seid.     The fame of thilke schepes fell,     Which in Colchos, as it befell,     Was al of gold, schal nevere deie;     Wherof I thenke for to seie     Hou it cam ferst into that yle.     Ther was a king in thilke whyle     Towardes Grece, and Athemas     The Cronique of his name was;     4250     And hadde a wif, which Philen hihte,     Be whom, so as fortune it dihte,     He hadde of children yonge tuo.     Frixus the ferste was of tho,     A knave child, riht fair withalle;     A dowhter ek, the which men calle     Hellen, he hadde be this wif.     Bot for ther mai no mannes lif     Endure upon this Erthe hiere,     This worthi queene, as thou miht hiere,    4260     Er that the children were of age,     Tok of hire ende the passage,     With gret worschipe and was begrave.     What thing it liketh god to have     It is gret reson to ben his;     Forthi this king, so as it is,     With gret suffrance it underfongeth:     And afterward, as him belongeth,     Whan it was time forto wedde,     A newe wif he tok to bedde,    4270     Which Yno hihte and was a Mayde,     And ek the dowhter, as men saide,     Of Cadme, which a king also     Was holde in thilke daies tho.     Whan Yno was the kinges make,     Sche caste hou that sche mihte make     These children to here fader lothe,     And schope a wyle ayein hem bothe,     Which to the king was al unknowe.     A yeer or tuo sche let do sowe    4280     The lond with sode whete aboute,     Wherof no corn mai springen oute;     And thus be sleyhte and be covine     Aros the derthe and the famine     Thurghout the lond in such a wise,     So that the king a sacrifise     Upon the point of this destresse     To Ceres, which is the goddesse     Of corn, hath schape him forto yive,     To loke if it mai be foryive,     4290     The meschief which was in his lond.     Bot sche, which knew tofor the hond     The circumstance of al this thing,     Ayein the cominge of the king     Into the temple, hath schape so,     Of hire acord that alle tho     Whiche of the temple prestes were     Have seid and full declared there     Unto the king, bot if so be     That he delivere the contre    4300     Of Frixus and of Hellen bothe,     With whom the goddes ben so wrothe,     That whil tho children ben therinne,     Such tilthe schal noman beginne,     Wherof to gete him eny corn.     Thus was it seid, thus was it sworn     Of all the Prestes that ther are;     And sche which causeth al this fare     Seid ek therto what that sche wolde,     And every man thanne after tolde     4310     So as the queene hem hadde preid.     The king, which hath his Ere leid,     And lieveth al that evere he herde,     Unto here tale thus ansuerde,     And seith that levere him is to chese     Hise children bothe forto lese,     Than him and al the remenant     Of hem whiche are aportenant     Unto the lond which he schal kepe:     And bad his wif to take kepe        4320     In what manere is best to done,     That thei delivered weren sone     Out of this world. And sche anon     Tuo men ordeigneth forto gon;     Bot ferst sche made hem forto swere     That thei the children scholden bere     Unto the See, that non it knowe,     And hem therinne bothe throwe.     The children to the See ben lad,     Wher in the wise as Yno bad    4330     These men be redy forto do.     Bot the goddesse which Juno     Is hote, appiereth in the stede,     And hath unto the men forbede     That thei the children noght ne sle;     Bot bad hem loke into the See     And taken hiede of that thei sihen.     Ther swam a Schep tofore here yhen,     Whos flees of burned gold was al;     And this goddesse forth withal    4340     Comandeth that withoute lette     Thei scholde anon these children sette     Above upon this Schepes bak;     And al was do, riht as sche spak,     Wherof the men gon hom ayein.     And fell so, as the bokes sein,     Hellen the yonge Mayden tho,     Which of the See was wo bego,     For pure drede hire herte hath lore,     That fro the Schep, which hath hire bore,     4350     As sche that was swounende feint,     Sche fell, and hath hirselve dreint;     With Frixus and this Schep forth swam,     Til he to thyle of Colchos cam,     Where Juno the goddesse he fond,     Which tok the Schep unto the lond,     And sette it there in such a wise     As thou tofore hast herd devise,     Wherof cam after al the wo,     Why Jason was forswore so        4360     Unto Medee, as it is spoke.     Mi fader, who that hath tobroke     His trouthe, as ye have told above,     He is noght worthi forto love     Ne be beloved, as me semeth:     Bot every newe love quemeth     To him which newefongel is.     And natheles nou after this,     If that you list to taken hiede     Upon mi Schrifte to procede,        4370     In loves cause ayein the vice     Of covoitise and Avarice     What ther is more I wolde wite.     Mi Sone, this I finde write,     Ther is yit on of thilke brood,     Which only for the worldes good,     To make a Tresor of Moneie,     Put alle conscience aweie:     Wherof in thi confession     The name and the condicion     4380     I schal hierafterward declare,     Which makth on riche, an other bare.     Upon the bench sittende on hih     With Avarice Usure I sih,     Full clothed of his oghne suite,     Which after gold makth chace and suite     With his brocours, that renne aboute     Lich unto racches in a route.     Such lucre is non above grounde,     Which is noght of tho racches founde;        4390     For wher thei se beyete sterte,     That schal hem in no wise asterte,     Bot thei it dryve into the net     Of lucre, which Usure hath set.     Usure with the riche duelleth,     To al that evere he beith and selleth     He hath ordeined of his sleyhte     Mesure double and double weyhte:     Outward he selleth be the lasse,     And with the more he makth his tasse,        4400     Wherof his hous is full withinne.     He reccheth noght, be so he winne,     Though that ther lese ten or tuelve:     His love is al toward himselve     And to non other, bot he se     That he mai winne suche thre;     For wher he schal oght yive or lene,     He wol ayeinward take a bene,     Ther he hath lent the smale pese.     And riht so ther ben manye of these     4410     Lovers, that thogh thei love a lyte,     That scarsly wolde it weie a myte,     Yit wolde thei have a pound again,     As doth Usure in his bargain.     Bot certes such usure unliche,     It falleth more unto the riche,     Als wel of love as of beyete,     Than unto hem that be noght grete,     And, as who seith, ben simple and povere;     For sielden is whan thei recovere,        4420     Bot if it be thurgh gret decerte.     And natheles men se poverte     With porsuite and continuance     Fulofte make a gret chevance     And take of love his avantage,     Forth with the help of his brocage,     That maken seme wher is noght.     And thus fulofte is love boght     For litel what, and mochel take,     With false weyhtes that thei make.        4430     Nou, Sone, of that I seide above     Thou wost what Usure is of love:     Tell me forthi what so thou wilt,     If thou therof hast eny gilt.     Mi fader, nay, for ought I hiere.     For of tho pointz ye tolden hiere     I wol you be mi trouthe assure,     Mi weyhte of love and mi mesure     Hath be mor large and mor certein     Than evere I tok of love ayein:        4440     For so yit couthe I nevere of sleyhte,     To take ayein be double weyhte     Of love mor than I have yive.     For als so wiss mot I be schrive     And have remission of Sinne,     As so yit couthe I nevere winne,     Ne yit so mochel, soth to sein,     That evere I mihte have half ayein     Of so full love as I have lent:     And if myn happ were so wel went,    4450     That for the hole I mihte have half,     Me thenkth I were a goddeshalf.     For where Usure wole have double,     Mi conscience is noght so trouble,     I biede nevere as to my del     Bot of the hole an halvendel;     That is non excess, as me thenketh.     Bot natheles it me forthenketh;     For wel I wot that wol noght be,     For every day the betre I se        4460     That hou so evere I yive or lene     Mi love in place ther I mene,     For oght that evere I axe or crave,     I can nothing ayeinward have.     Bot yit for that I wol noght lete,     What so befalle of mi beyete,     That I ne schal hire yive and lene     Mi love and al mi thoght so clene,     That toward me schal noght beleve.     And if sche of hire goode leve    4470     Rewarde wol me noght again,     I wot the laste of my bargain     Schal stonde upon so gret a lost,     That I mai neveremor the cost     Recovere in this world til I die.     So that touchende of this partie     I mai me wel excuse and schal;     And forto speke forth withal,     If eny brocour for me wente,     That point cam nevere in myn entente:        4480     So that the more me merveilleth,     What thing it is mi ladi eilleth,     That al myn herte and al my time     Sche hath, and doth no betre bime.     I have herd seid that thoght is fre,     And natheles in privete     To you, mi fader, that ben hiere     Min hole schrifte forto hiere,     I dar min herte wel desclose.     Touchende usure, as I suppose,    4490     Which as ye telle in love is used,     Mi ladi mai noght ben excused;     That for o lokinge of hire ye5     Min hole herte til I dye     With al that evere I may and can     Sche hath me wonne to hire man:     Wherof, me thenkth, good reson wolde     That sche somdel rewarde scholde,     And yive a part, ther sche hath al.     I not what falle hierafter schal,    4500     Bot into nou yit dar I sein,     Hire liste nevere yive ayein     A goodli word in such a wise,     Wherof min hope mihte arise,     Mi grete love to compense.     I not hou sche hire conscience     Excuse wole of this usure;     Be large weyhte and gret mesure     Sche hath mi love, and I have noght     Of that which I have diere boght,    4510     And with myn herte I have it paid;     Bot al that is asyde laid,     And I go loveles aboute.     Hire oghte stonde if ful gret doute,     Til sche redresce such a sinne,     That sche wole al mi love winne     And yifth me noght to live by:     Noght als so moche as "grant mercy"     Hir list to seie, of which I mihte     Som of mi grete peine allyhte.    4520     Bot of this point, lo, thus I fare     As he that paith for his chaffare,     And beith it diere, and yit hath non,     So mot he nedes povere gon:     Thus beie I diere and have no love,     That I ne mai noght come above     To winne of love non encress.     Bot I me wole natheles     Touchende usure of love aquite;     And if mi ladi be to wyte,     4530     I preie to god such grace hir sende     That sche be time it mot amende.     Mi Sone, of that thou hast ansuerd     Touchende Usure I have al herd,     Hou thou of love hast wonne smale:     Bot that thou tellest in thi tale     And thi ladi therof accusest,     Me thenkth tho wordes thou misusest.     For be thin oghne knowlechinge     Thou seist hou sche for o lokinge    4540     Thin hole herte fro the tok:     Sche mai be such, that hire o lok     Is worth thin herte manyfold;     So hast thou wel thin herte sold,     Whan thou hast that is more worth.     And ek of that thou tellest forth,     Hou that hire weyhte of love unevene     Is unto thin, under the hevene     Stod nevere in evene that balance     Which stant in loves governance.     4550     Such is the statut of his lawe,     That thogh thi love more drawe     And peise in the balance more,     Thou miht noght axe ayein therfore     Of duete, bot al of grace.     For love is lord in every place,     Ther mai no lawe him justefie     Be reddour ne be compaignie,     That he ne wole after his wille     Whom that him liketh spede or spille.        4560     To love a man mai wel beginne,     Bot whether he schal lese or winne,     That wot noman til ate laste:     Forthi coveite noght to faste,     Mi Sone, bot abyd thin ende,     Per cas al mai to goode wende.     Bot that thou hast me told and said,     Of o thing I am riht wel paid,     That thou be sleyhte ne be guile     Of no brocour hast otherwhile     4570     Engined love, for such dede     Is sore venged, as I rede.     Brocours of love that deceiven,     No wonder is thogh thei receiven     After the wrong that thei decerven;     For whom as evere that thei serven     And do plesance for a whyle,     Yit ate laste here oghne guile     Upon here oghne hed descendeth,     Which god of his vengance sendeth,        4580     As be ensample of time go     A man mai finde it hath be so.     It fell somtime, as it was sene,     The hihe goddesse and the queene     Juno tho hadde in compainie     A Maiden full of tricherie;     For sche was evere in on acord     With Jupiter, that was hire lord,     To gete him othre loves newe,     Thurgh such brocage and was untrewe     4590     Al otherwise than him nedeth.     Bot sche, which of no schame dredeth,     With queinte wordes and with slyhe     Blente in such wise hir lady yhe,     As sche to whom that Juno triste,     So that therof sche nothing wiste.     Bot so prive mai be nothing,     That it ne comth to knowleching;     Thing don upon the derke nyht     Is after knowe on daies liht:     4600     So it befell, that ate laste     Al that this slyhe maiden caste     Was overcast and overthrowe.     For as the sothe mot be knowe,     To Juno was don understonde     In what manere hir housebonde     With fals brocage hath take usure     Of love mor than his mesure,     Whan he tok othre than his wif,     Wherof this mayden was gultif,    4610     Which hadde ben of his assent.     And thus was al the game schent;     She soffreth him, as sche mot nede,     Bot the brocour of his misdede,     Sche which hir conseil yaf therto,     On hire is the vengance do:     For Juno with hire wordes hote,     This Maiden, which Eccho was hote,     Reproveth and seith in this wise:     "O traiteresse, of which servise     4620     Hast thou thin oghne ladi served!     Thou hast gret peine wel deserved,     That thou canst maken it so queinte,     Thi slyhe wordes forto peinte     Towardes me, that am thi queene,     Wherof thou madest me to wene     That myn housbonde trewe were,     Whan that he loveth elleswhere,     Al be it so him nedeth noght.     Bot upon thee it schal be boght,     4630     Which art prive to tho doinges,     And me fulofte of thi lesinges     Deceived hast: nou is the day     That I thi while aquite may;     And for thou hast to me conceled     That my lord hath with othre deled,     I schal thee sette in such a kende,     That evere unto the worldes ende     Al that thou hierest thou schalt telle,     And clappe it out as doth a belle."     4640     And with that word sche was forschape,     Ther may no vois hire mouth ascape,     What man that in the wodes crieth,     Withoute faile Eccho replieth,     And what word that him list to sein,     The same word sche seith ayein.     Thus sche, which whilom hadde leve     To duelle in chambre, mot beleve     In wodes and on helles bothe,     For such brocage as wyves lothe,     4650     Which doth here lordes hertes change     And love in other place strange.     Forthi, if evere it so befalle,     That thou, mi Sone, amonges alle     Be wedded man, hold that thou hast,     For thanne al other love is wast.     O wif schal wel to thee suffise,     And thanne, if thou for covoitise     Of love woldest axe more,     Thou scholdest don ayein the lore    4660     Of alle hem that trewe be.     Mi fader, as in this degre     My conscience is noght accused;     For I no such brocage have used,     Wherof that lust of love is wonne.     Forthi spek forth, as ye begonne,     Of Avarice upon mi schrifte.     Mi Sone, I schal the branches schifte     Be ordre so as thei ben set,     On whom no good is wel beset.     4670     Blinde Avarice of his lignage     For conseil and for cousinage,     To be withholde ayein largesse,     Hath on, whos name is seid Skarsnesse,     The which is kepere of his hous,     And is so thurghout averous,     That he no good let out of honde;     Thogh god himself it wolde fonde,     Of yifte scholde he nothing have;     And if a man it wolde crave,        4680     He moste thanne faile nede,     Wher god himselve mai noght spede.     And thus Skarsnesse in every place     Be reson mai no thonk porchace,     And natheles in his degree     Above all othre most prive     With Avarice stant he this.     For he governeth that ther is     In ech astat of his office     After the reule of thilke vice;        4690     He takth, he kepth, he halt, he bint,     That lihtere is to fle the flint     Than gete of him in hard or neisshe     Only the value of a reysshe     Of good in helpinge of an other,     Noght thogh it were his oghne brother.     For in the cas of yifte and lone     Stant every man for him al one,     Him thenkth of his unkindeschipe     That him nedeth no felaschipe:    4700     Be so the bagge and he acorden,     Him reccheth noght what men recorden     Of him, or it be evel or good.     For al his trust is on his good,     So that al one he falleth ofte,     Whan he best weneth stonde alofte,     Als wel in love as other wise;     For love is evere of som reprise     To him that wole his love holde.     Forthi, mi Sone, as thou art holde,     4710     Touchende of this tell me thi schrifte:     Hast thou be scars or large of yifte     Unto thi love, whom thou servest?     For after that thou wel deservest     Of yifte, thou miht be the bet;     For that good holde I wel beset,     For why thou miht the betre fare;     Thanne is no wisdom forto spare.     For thus men sein, in every nede     He was wys that ferst made mede;     4720     For where as mede mai noght spede,     I not what helpeth other dede:     Fulofte he faileth of his game     That wol with ydel hand reclame     His hauk, as many a nyce doth.     Forthi, mi Sone, tell me soth     And sei the trouthe, if thou hast be     Unto thy love or skars or fre.     Mi fader, it hath stonde thus,     That if the tresor of Cresus        4730     And al the gold Octovien,     Forth with the richesse Yndien     Of Perles and of riche stones,     Were al togedre myn at ones,     I sette it at nomore acompte     Than wolde a bare straw amonte,     To yive it hire al in a day,     Be so that to that suete may     I myhte like or more or lesse.     And thus be cause of my scarsnesse        4740     Ye mai wel understonde and lieve     That I schal noght the worse achieve     The pourpos which is in my thoght.     Bot yit I yaf hir nevere noght,     Ne therto dorste a profre make;     For wel I wot sche wol noght take,     And yive wol sche noght also,     Sche is eschu of bothe tuo.     And this I trowe be the skile     Towardes me, for sche ne wile     4750     That I have eny cause of hope,     Noght also mochel as a drope.     Bot toward othre, as I mai se,     Sche takth and yifth in such degre,     That as be weie of frendlihiede     Sche can so kepe hir wommanhiede,     That every man spekth of hir wel.     Bot sche wole take of me no del,     And yit sche wot wel that I wolde     Yive and do bothe what I scholde     4760     To plesen hire in al my myht:     Be reson this wot every wyht,     For that mai be no weie asterte,     Ther sche is maister of the herte,     Sche mot be maister of the good.     For god wot wel that al my mod     And al min herte and al mi thoght     And al mi good, whil I have oght,     Als freliche as god hath it yive,     It schal ben hires, while I live,    4770     Riht as hir list hirself commande.     So that it nedeth no demande,     To axe of me if I be scars     To love, for as to tho pars     I wole ansuere and seie no.     Mi Sone, that is riht wel do.     For often times of scarsnesse     It hath be sen, that for the lesse     Is lost the more, as thou schalt hiere     A tale lich to this matiere.        4780     Skarsnesse and love acorden nevere,     For every thing is wel the levere,     Whan that a man hath boght it diere:     And forto speke in this matiere,     For sparinge of a litel cost     Fulofte time a man hath lost     The large cote for the hod.     What man that scars is of his good     And wol noght yive, he schal noght take:     With yifte a man mai undertake    4790     The hihe god to plese and queme,     With yifte a man the world mai deme;     For every creature bore,     If thou him yive, is glad therfore,     And every gladschipe, as I finde,     Is confort unto loves kinde     And causeth ofte a man to spede.     So was he wys that ferst yaf mede,     For mede kepeth love in house;     Bot wher the men ben coveitouse        4800     And sparen forto yive a part,     Thei knowe noght Cupides art:     For his fortune and his aprise     Desdeigneth alle coveitise     And hateth alle nygardie.     And forto loke of this partie,     A soth ensample, hou it is so,     I finde write of Babio;     Which hadde a love at his menage,     Ther was non fairere of hire age,    4810     And hihte Viola be name;     Which full of youthe and ful of game     Was of hirself, and large and fre,     Bot such an other chinche as he     Men wisten noght in al the lond,     And hadde affaited to his hond     His servant, the which Spodius     Was hote. And in this wise thus     The worldes good of sufficance     Was had, bot likinge and plesance,        4820     Of that belongeth to richesse     Of love, stod in gret destresse;     So that this yonge lusty wyht     Of thing which fell to loves riht     Was evele served overal,     That sche was wo bego withal,     Til that Cupide and Venus eke     A medicine for the seke     Ordeigne wolden in this cas.     So as fortune thanne was,        4830     Of love upon the destine     It fell, riht as it scholde be,     A freissh, a fre, a frendly man     That noght of Avarice can,     Which Croceus be name hihte,     Toward this swete caste his sihte,     And ther sche was cam in presence.     Sche sih him large of his despence,     And amorous and glad of chiere,     So that hir liketh wel to hiere        4840     The goodly wordes whiche he seide;     And therupon of love he preide,     Of love was al that he mente,     To love and for sche scholde assente,     He yaf hire yiftes evere among.     Bot for men sein that mede is strong,     It was wel seene at thilke tyde;     For as it scholde of ryht betyde,     This Viola largesce hath take     And the nygard sche hath forsake:    4850     Of Babio sche wol no more,     For he was grucchende everemore,     Ther was with him non other fare     Bot forto prinche and forto spare,     Of worldes muk to gete encress.     So goth the wrecche loveles,     Bejaped for his Skarcete,     And he that large was and fre     And sette his herte to despende,     This Croceus, the bowe bende,     4860     Which Venus tok him forto holde,     And schotte als ofte as evere he wolde.     Lo, thus departeth love his lawe,     That what man wol noght be felawe     To yive and spende, as I thee telle,     He is noght worthi forto duelle     In loves court to be relieved.     Forthi, my Sone, if I be lieved,     Thou schalt be large of thi despence.     Mi fader, in mi conscience     4870     If ther be eny thing amis,     I wol amende it after this,     Toward mi love namely.     Mi Sone, wel and redely     Thou seist, so that wel paid withal     I am, and forthere if I schal     Unto thi schrifte specefie     Of Avarices progenie     What vice suieth after this,     Thou schalt have wonder hou it is,        4880     Among the folk in eny regne     That such a vice myhte regne,     Which is comun at alle assaies,     As men mai finde nou adaies.     The vice lik unto the fend,     Which nevere yit was mannes frend,     And cleped is Unkindeschipe,     Of covine and of felaschipe     With Avarice he is withholde.     Him thenkth he scholde noght ben holde     4890     Unto the moder which him bar;     Of him mai nevere man be war,     He wol noght knowe the merite,     For that he wolde it noght aquite;     Which in this world is mochel used,     And fewe ben therof excused.     To telle of him is endeles,     Bot this I seie natheles,     Wher as this vice comth to londe,     Ther takth noman his thonk on honde;    4900     Thogh he with alle his myhtes serve,     He schal of him no thonk deserve.     He takth what eny man wol yive,     Bot whil he hath o day to live,     He wol nothing rewarde ayein;     He gruccheth forto yive o grein,     Wher he hath take a berne full.     That makth a kinde herte dull,     To sette his trust in such frendschipe,     Ther as he fint no kindeschipe;        4910     And forto speke wordes pleine,     Thus hiere I many a man compleigne,     That nou on daies thou schalt finde     At nede fewe frendes kinde;     What thou hast don for hem tofore,     It is foryete, as it were lore.     The bokes speken of this vice,     And telle hou god of his justice,     Be weie of kinde and ek nature     And every lifissh creature,    4920     The lawe also, who that it kan,     Thei dampnen an unkinde man.     It is al on to seie unkinde     As thing which don is ayein kinde,     For it with kinde nevere stod     A man to yelden evel for good.     For who that wolde taken hede,     A beste is glad of a good dede,     And loveth thilke creature     After the lawe of his nature        4930     Which doth him ese. And forto se     Of this matiere Auctorite,     Fulofte time it hath befalle;     Wherof a tale amonges alle,     Which is of olde ensamplerie,     I thenke forto specefie.     To speke of an unkinde man,     I finde hou whilom Adrian,     Of Rome which a gret lord was,     Upon a day as he per cas    4940     To wode in his huntinge wente,     It hapneth at a soudein wente,     After his chace as he poursuieth,     Thurgh happ, the which noman eschuieth,     He fell unwar into a pet,     Wher that it mihte noght be let.     The pet was dep and he fell lowe,     That of his men non myhte knowe     Wher he becam, for non was nyh,     Which of his fall the meschief syh.     4950     And thus al one ther he lay     Clepende and criende al the day     For socour and deliverance,     Til ayein Eve it fell per chance,     A while er it began to nyhte,     A povere man, which Bardus hihte,     Cam forth walkende with his asse,     And hadde gadred him a tasse     Of grene stickes and of dreie     To selle, who that wolde hem beie,        4960     As he which hadde no liflode,     Bot whanne he myhte such a lode     To toune with his Asse carie.     And as it fell him forto tarie     That ilke time nyh the pet,     And hath the trusse faste knet,     He herde a vois, which cride dimme,     And he his Ere to the brimme     Hath leid, and herde it was a man,     Which seide, "Ha, help hier Adrian,     4970     And I wol yiven half mi good."     The povere man this understod,     As he that wolde gladly winne,     And to this lord which was withinne     He spak and seide, "If I thee save,     What sikernesse schal I have     Of covenant, that afterward     Thou wolt me yive such reward     As thou behihtest nou tofore?"     That other hath his othes swore        4980     Be hevene and be the goddes alle,     If that it myhte so befalle     That he out of the pet him broghte,     Of all the goodes whiche he oghte     He schal have evene halvendel.     This Bardus seide he wolde wel;     And with this word his Asse anon     He let untrusse, and therupon     Doun goth the corde into the pet,     To which he hath at ende knet             4990     A staf, wherby, he seide, he wolde     That Adrian him scholde holde.     Bot it was tho per chance falle,     Into that pet was also falle     An Ape, which at thilke throwe,     Whan that the corde cam doun lowe,     Al sodeinli therto he skipte     And it in bothe hise armes clipte.     And Bardus with his Asse anon     Him hath updrawe, and he is gon.     5000     But whan he sih it was an Ape,     He wende al hadde ben a jape     Of faierie, and sore him dradde:     And Adrian eftsone gradde     For help, and cride and preide faste,     And he eftsone his corde caste;     Bot whan it cam unto the grounde,     A gret Serpent it hath bewounde,     The which Bardus anon up drouh.     And thanne him thoghte wel ynouh,    5010     It was fantosme, bot yit he herde     The vois, and he therto ansuerde,     "What wiht art thou in goddes name?"     "I am," quod Adrian, "the same,     Whos good thou schalt have evene half."     Quod Bardus, "Thanne a goddes half     The thridde time assaie I schal":     And caste his corde forth withal     Into the pet, and whan it cam     To him, this lord of Rome it nam,    5020     And therupon him hath adresced,     And with his hand fulofte blessed,     And thanne he bad to Bardus hale.     And he, which understod his tale,     Betwen him and his Asse al softe     Hath drawe and set him up alofte     Withouten harm al esely.     He seith noght ones "grant merci,"     Bot strauhte him forth to the cite,     And let this povere Bardus be.    5030     And natheles this simple man     His covenant, so as he can,     Hath axed; and that other seide,     If so be that he him umbreide     Of oght that hath be speke or do,     It schal ben venged on him so,     That him were betre to be ded.     And he can tho non other red,     But on his asse ayein he caste     His trusse, and hieth homward faste:    5040     And whan that he cam hom to bedde,     He tolde his wif hou that he spedde.     Bot finaly to speke oght more     Unto this lord he dradde him sore,     So that a word ne dorste he sein:     And thus upon the morwe ayein,     In the manere as I recorde,     Forth with his Asse and with his corde     To gadre wode, as he dede er,     He goth; and whan that he cam ner    5050     Unto the place where he wolde,     He hath his Ape anon beholde,     Which hadde gadred al aboute     Of stickes hiere and there a route,     And leide hem redy to his hond,     Wherof he made his trosse and bond;     Fro dai to dai and in this wise     This Ape profreth his servise,     So that he hadde of wode ynouh.     Upon a time and as he drouh    5060     Toward the wode, he sih besyde     The grete gastli Serpent glyde,     Til that sche cam in his presence,     And in hir kinde a reverence     Sche hath him do, and forth withal     A Ston mor briht than a cristall     Out of hir mouth tofore his weie     Sche let doun falle, and wente aweie,     For that he schal noght ben adrad.     Tho was this povere Bardus glad,     5070     Thonkende god, and to the Ston     He goth an takth it up anon,     And hath gret wonder in his wit     Hou that the beste him hath aquit,     Wher that the mannes Sone hath failed,     For whom he hadde most travailed.     Bot al he putte in goddes hond,     And torneth hom, and what he fond     Unto his wif he hath it schewed;     And thei, that weren bothe lewed,    5080     Acorden that he scholde it selle.     And he no lengere wolde duelle,     Bot forth anon upon the tale     The Ston he profreth to the sale;     And riht as he himself it sette,     The jueler anon forth fette     The gold and made his paiement,     Therof was no delaiement.     Thus whan this Ston was boght and sold,     Homward with joie manyfold     5090     This Bardus goth; and whan he cam     Hom to his hous and that he nam     His gold out of his Purs, withinne     He fond his Ston also therinne,     Wherof for joie his herte pleide,     Unto his wif and thus he seide,     "Lo, hier my gold, lo, hier mi Ston!"     His wif hath wonder therupon,     And axeth him hou that mai be.     "Nou be mi trouthe I not," quod he,     5100     "Bot I dar swere upon a bok,     That to my Marchant I it tok,     And he it hadde whan I wente:     So knowe I noght to what entente     It is nou hier, bot it be grace.     Forthi tomorwe in other place     I wole it fonde forto selle,     And if it wol noght with him duelle,     Bot crepe into mi purs ayein,     Than dar I saufly swere and sein,    5110     It is the vertu of the Ston."     The morwe cam, and he is gon     To seche aboute in other stede     His Ston to selle, and he so dede,     And lefte it with his chapman there.     Bot whan that he cam elleswhere,     In presence of his wif at hom,     Out of his Purs and that he nom     His gold, he fond his Ston withal:     And thus it fell him overal,        5120     Where he it solde in sondri place,     Such was the fortune and the grace.     Bot so wel may nothing ben hidd,     That it nys ate laste kidd:     This fame goth aboute Rome     So ferforth, that the wordes come     To themperour Justinian;     And he let sende for the man,     And axede him hou that it was.     And Bardus tolde him al the cas,     5130     Hou that the worm and ek the beste,     Althogh thei maden no beheste,     His travail hadden wel aquit;     Bot he which hadde a mannes wit,     And made his covenant be mouthe     And swor therto al that he couthe     To parte and yiven half his good,     Hath nou foryete hou that it stod,     As he which wol no trouthe holde.     This Emperour al that he tolde    5140     Hath herd, and thilke unkindenesse     He seide he wolde himself redresse.     And thus in court of juggement     This Adrian was thanne assent,     And the querele in audience     Declared was in the presence     Of themperour and many mo;     Wherof was mochel speche tho     And gret wondringe among the press.     Bot ate laste natheles        5150     For the partie which hath pleigned     The lawe hath diemed and ordeigned     Be hem that were avised wel,     That he schal have the halvendel     Thurghout of Adrianes good.     And thus of thilke unkinde blod     Stant the memoire into this day,     Wherof that every wysman may     Ensamplen him, and take in mynde     What schame it is to ben unkinde;    5160     Ayein the which reson debateth,     And every creature it hateth.     Forthi, mi Sone, in thin office     I rede fle that ilke vice.     For riht as the Cronique seith     Of Adrian, hou he his feith     Foryat for worldes covoitise,     Fulofte in such a maner wise     Of lovers nou a man mai se     Full manye that unkinde be:    5170     For wel behote and evele laste     That is here lif; for ate laste,     Whan that thei have here wille do,     Here love is after sone ago.     What seist thou, Sone, to this cas?     Mi fader, I wol seie Helas,     That evere such a man was bore,     Which whan he hath his trouthe suore     And hath of love what he wolde,     That he at eny time scholde    5180     Evere after in his herte finde     To falsen and to ben unkinde.     Bot, fader, as touchende of me,     I mai noght stonde in that degre;     For I tok nevere of love why,     That I ne mai wel go therby     And do my profit elles where,     For eny sped I finde there.     I dar wel thenken al aboute,     Bot I ne dar noght speke it oute;    5190     And if I dorste, I wolde pleigne,     That sche for whom I soffre peine     And love hir evere aliche hote,     That nouther yive ne behote     In rewardinge of mi servise     It list hire in no maner wise.     I wol noght say that sche is kinde,     And forto sai sche is unkinde,     That dar I noght; bot god above,     Which demeth every herte of love,    5200     He wot that on myn oghne side     Schal non unkindeschipe abide:     If it schal with mi ladi duelle,     Therof dar I nomore telle.     Nou, goode fader, as it is,     Tell me what thenketh you of this.     Mi Sone, of that unkindeschipe,     The which toward thi ladischipe     Thou pleignest, for sche wol thee noght,     Thou art to blamen of that thoght.        5210     For it mai be that thi desir,     Thogh it brenne evere as doth the fyr,     Per cas to hire honour missit,     Or elles time com noght yit,     Which standt upon thi destine:     Forthi, mi Sone, I rede thee,     Thenk wel, what evere the befalle;     For noman hath his lustes alle.     Bot as thou toldest me before     That thou to love art noght forswore,        5220     And hast don non unkindenesse,     Thou miht therof thi grace blesse:     And lef noght that continuance;     For ther mai be no such grevance     To love, as is unkindeschipe.     Wherof to kepe thi worschipe,     So as these olde bokes tale,     I schal thee telle a redi tale:     Nou herkne and be wel war therby,     For I wol telle it openly.     5230     Mynos, as telleth the Poete,     The which whilom was king of Crete,     A Sone hadde and Androchee     He hihte: and so befell that he     Unto Athenes forto lere     Was send, and so he bar him there,     For that he was of hih lignage,     Such pride he tok in his corage,     That he foryeten hath the Scoles,     And in riote among the foles        5240     He dede manye thinges wronge;     And useth thilke lif so longe,     Til ate laste of that he wroghte     He fond the meschief which he soghte,     Wherof it fell that he was slain.     His fader, which it herde sain,     Was wroth, and al that evere he mihte,     Of men of Armes he him dighte     A strong pouer, and forth he wente     Unto Athenys, where he brente     5250     The pleine contre al aboute:     The Cites stode of him in doute,     As thei that no defence hadde     Ayein the pouer which he ladde.     Ege
s, which was there king,     His conseil tok upon this thing,     For he was thanne in the Cite:     So that of pes into tretee     Betwen Mynos and Ege
s     Thei felle, and ben acorded thus;    5260     That king Mynos fro yer to yeere     Receive schal, as thou schalt here,     Out of Athenys for truage     Of men that were of myhti Age     Persones nyne, of whiche he schal     His wille don in special     For vengance of his Sones deth.     Non other grace ther ne geth,     Bot forto take the juise;     And that was don in such a wise,     5270     Which stod upon a wonder cas.     For thilke time so it was,     Wherof that men yit rede and singe,     King Mynos hadde in his kepinge     A cruel Monstre, as seith the geste:     For he was half man and half beste,     And Minotaurus he was hote,     Which was begete in a riote     Upon Pasiphe, his oghne wif,     Whil he was oute upon the strif        5280     Of thilke grete Siege at Troie.     Bot sche, which lost hath alle joie,     Whan that sche syh this Monstre bore,     Bad men ordeigne anon therfore:     And fell that ilke time thus,     Ther was a Clerk, on Dedalus,     Which hadde ben of hire assent     Of that hir world was so miswent;     And he made of his oghne wit,     Wherof the remembrance is yit,    5290     For Minotaure such an hous,     Which was so strange and merveilous,     That what man that withinne wente,     Ther was so many a sondri wente,     That he ne scholde noght come oute,     But gon amased al aboute.     And in this hous to loke and warde     Was Minotaurus put in warde,     That what lif that therinne cam,     Or man or beste, he overcam    5300     And slow, and fedde him therupon;     And in this wise many on     Out of Athenys for truage     Devoured weren in that rage.     For every yeer thei schope hem so,     Thei of Athenys, er thei go     Toward that ilke wofull chance,     As it was set in ordinance,     Upon fortune here lot thei caste;     Til that These
s ate laste,        5310     Which was the kinges Sone there,     Amonges othre that ther were     In thilke yeer, as it befell,     The lot upon his chance fell.     He was a worthi kniht withalle;     And whan he sih this chance falle,     He ferde as thogh he tok non hiede,     Bot al that evere he mihte spiede,     With him and with his felaschipe     Forth into Crete he goth be Schipe;     5320     Wher that the king Mynos he soghte,     And profreth all that he him oghte     Upon the point of here acord.     This sterne king, this cruel lord     Tok every day on of the Nyne,     And put him to the discipline     Of Minotaure, to be devoured;     Bot These
s was so favoured,     That he was kept til ate laste.     And in the meene while he caste        5330     What thing him were best to do:     And fell that Adriagne tho,     Which was the dowhter of Mynos,     And hadde herd the worthi los     Of These
s and of his myht,     And syh he was a lusti kniht,     Hire hole herte on him sche leide,     And he also of love hir preide,     So ferforth that thei were al on.     And sche ordeigneth thanne anon        5340     In what manere he scholde him save,     And schop so that sche dede him have     A clue of thred, of which withinne     Ferst ate dore he schal beginne     With him to take that on ende,     That whan he wolde ayeinward wende,     He mihte go the same weie.     And over this, so as I seie,     Of pich sche tok him a pelote,     The which he scholde into the throte    5350     Of Minotaure caste rihte:     Such wepne also for him sche dighte,     That he be reson mai noght faile     To make an ende of his bataile;     For sche him tawhte in sondri wise,     Til he was knowe of thilke emprise,     Hou he this beste schulde quelle.     And thus, schort tale forto telle,     So as this Maide him hadde tawht,     These
s with this Monstre fawht,    5360     Smot of his hed, the which he nam,     And be the thred, so as he cam,     He goth ayein, til he were oute.     Tho was gret wonder al aboute:     Mynos the tribut hath relessed,     And so was al the werre cessed     Betwen Athene and hem of Crete.     Bot now to speke of thilke suete,     Whos beaute was withoute wane,     This faire Maiden Adriane,     5370     Whan that sche sih These
s sound,     Was nevere yit upon the ground     A gladder wyht that sche was tho.     These
s duelte a dai or tuo     Wher that Mynos gret chiere him dede:     These
s in a prive stede     Hath with this Maiden spoke and rouned,     That sche to him was abandouned     In al that evere that sche couthe,     So that of thilke lusty youthe    5380     Al prively betwen hem tweie     The ferste flour he tok aweie.     For he so faire tho behihte     That evere, whil he live mihte,     He scholde hire take for his wif,     And as his oghne hertes lif     He scholde hire love and trouthe bere;     And sche, which mihte noght forbere,     So sore loveth him ayein,     That what as evere he wolde sein     5390     With al hire herte sche believeth.     And thus his pourpos he achieveth,     So that assured of his trouthe     With him sche wente, and that was routhe.     Fedra hire yonger Soster eke,     A lusti Maide, a sobre, a meke,     Fulfild of alle curtesie,     For Sosterhode and compainie     Of love, which was hem betuene,     To sen hire Soster mad a queene,     5400     Hire fader lefte and forth sche wente     With him, which al his ferste entente     Foryat withinne a litel throwe,     So that it was al overthrowe,     Whan sche best wende it scholde stonde.     The Schip was blowe fro the londe,     Wherin that thei seilende were;     This Adriagne hath mochel fere     Of that the wynd so loude bleu,     As sche which of the See ne kneu,    5410     And preide forto reste a whyle.     And so fell that upon an yle,     Which Chyo hihte, thei ben drive,     Where he to hire his leve hath yive     That sche schal londe and take hire reste.     Bot that was nothing for the beste:     For whan sche was to londe broght,     Sche, which that time thoghte noght     Bot alle trouthe, and tok no kepe,     Hath leid hire softe forto slepe,    5420     As sche which longe hath ben forwacched;     Bot certes sche was evele macched     And fer from alle loves kinde;     For more than the beste unkinde     These
s, which no trouthe kepte,     Whil that this yonge ladi slepte,     Fulfild of his unkindeschipe     Hath al foryete the goodschipe     Which Adriane him hadde do,     And bad unto the Schipmen tho     5430     Hale up the seil and noght abyde,     And forth he goth the same tyde     Toward Athene, and hire alonde     He lefte, which lay nyh the stronde     Slepende, til that sche awok.     Bot whan that sche cast up hire lok     Toward the stronde and sih no wyht,     Hire herte was so sore aflyht,     That sche ne wiste what to thinke,     Bot drouh hire to the water brinke,     5440     Wher sche behield the See at large.     Sche sih no Schip, sche sih no barge     Als ferforth as sche mihte kenne:     "Ha lord," sche seide, "which a Senne,     As al the world schal after hiere,     Upon this woful womman hiere     This worthi kniht hath don and wroght!     I wende I hadde his love boght,     And so deserved ate nede,     Whan that he stod upon his drede,    5450     And ek the love he me behihte.     It is gret wonder hou he mihte     Towardes me nou ben unkinde,     And so to lete out of his mynde     Thing which he seide his oghne mouth.     Bot after this whan it is couth     And drawe into the worldes fame,     It schal ben hindringe of his name:     For wel he wot and so wot I,     He yaf his trouthe bodily,     5460     That he myn honour scholde kepe."     And with that word sche gan to wepe,     And sorweth more than ynouh:     Hire faire tresces sche todrouh,     And with hirself tok such a strif,     That sche betwen the deth and lif     Swounende lay fulofte among.     And al was this on him along,     Which was to love unkinde so,     Wherof the wrong schal everemo            5470     Stonde in Cronique of remembrance.     And ek it asketh a vengance     To ben unkinde in loves cas,     So as These
s thanne was,     Al thogh he were a noble kniht;     For he the lawe of loves riht     Forfeted hath in alle weie,     That Adriagne he putte aweie,     Which was a gret unkinde dede:     And after this, so as I rede,     5480     Fedra, the which hir Soster is,     He tok in stede of hire, and this     Fel afterward to mochel teene.     For thilke vice of which I meene,     Unkindeschipe, where it falleth,     The trouthe of mannes herte it palleth,     That he can no good dede aquite:     So mai he stonde of no merite     Towardes god, and ek also     Men clepen him the worldes fo;    5490     For he nomore than the fend     Unto non other man is frend,     Bot al toward himself al one.     Forthi, mi Sone, in thi persone     This vice above all othre fle.     Mi fader, as ye techen me,     I thenke don in this matiere.     Bot over this nou wolde I hiere,     Wherof I schal me schryve more.     Mi goode Sone, and for thi lore,     5500     After the reule of coveitise     I schal the proprete devise     Of every vice by and by.     Nou herkne and be wel war therby.     In the lignage of Avarice,     Mi Sone, yit ther is a vice,     His rihte name it is Ravine,     Which hath a route of his covine.     Ravine among the maistres duelleth,     And with his servantz, as men telleth,     5510     Extorcion is nou withholde:     Ravine of othre mennes folde     Makth his larder and paieth noght;     For wher as evere it mai be soght,     In his hous ther schal nothing lacke,     And that fulofte abyth the packe     Of povere men that duelle aboute.     Thus stant the comun poeple in doute,     Which can do non amendement;     For whanne him faileth paiement,     5520     Ravine makth non other skile,     Bot takth be strengthe what he wile.     So ben ther in the same wise     Lovers, as I thee schal devise,     That whan noght elles mai availe,     Anon with strengthe thei assaile     And gete of love the sesine,     Whan thei se time, be Ravine.     Forthi, mi Sone, schrif thee hier,     If thou hast ben a Raviner     5530     Of love. Certes, fader, no:     For I mi ladi love so,     That thogh I were as was Pompeie,     That al the world me wolde obeie,     Or elles such as Alisandre,     I wolde noght do such a sklaundre;     It is no good man, which so doth.     In good feith, Sone, thou seist soth:     For he that wole of pourveance     Be such a weie his lust avance,                5540     He schal it after sore abie,     Bot if these olde ensamples lie.     Nou, goode fader, tell me on,     So as ye cunne manyon,     Touchende of love in this matiere.     Nou list, mi Sone, and thou schalt hiere,     So as it hath befalle er this,     In loves cause hou that it is     A man to take be Ravine     The preie which is femeline.        5550     Ther was a real noble king,     And riche of alle worldes thing,     Which of his propre enheritance     Athenes hadde in governance,     And who so thenke therupon,     His name was king Pandion.     Tuo douhtres hadde he be his wif,     The whiche he lovede as his lif;     The ferste douhter Progne hihte,     And the secounde, as sche wel mihte,    5560     Was cleped faire Philomene,     To whom fell after mochel tene.     The fader of his pourveance     His doughter Progne wolde avance,     And yaf hire unto mariage     A worthi king of hih lignage,     A noble kniht eke of his hond,     So was he kid in every lond,     Of Trace he hihte Tere
s;     The clerk Ovide telleth thus.     5570     This Tere
s his wif hom ladde,     A lusti lif with hire he hadde;     Til it befell upon a tyde,     This Progne, as sche lay him besyde,     Bethoughte hir hou it mihte be     That sche hir Soster myhte se,     And to hir lord hir will sche seide,     With goodly wordes and him preide     That sche to hire mihte go:     And if it liked him noght so,     5580     That thanne he wolde himselve wende,     Or elles be som other sende,     Which mihte hire diere Soster griete,     And schape hou that thei mihten miete.     Hir lord anon to that he herde     Yaf his acord, and thus ansuerde:     "I wole," he seide, "for thi sake     The weie after thi Soster take     Miself, and bringe hire, if I may."     And sche with that, there as he lay,    5590     Began him in hire armes clippe,     And kist him with hir softe lippe,     And seide, "Sire, grant mercy."     And he sone after was redy,     And tok his leve forto go;     In sori time dede he so.     This Tere
s goth forth to Schipe     With him and with his felaschipe;     Be See the rihte cours he nam,     Into the contre til he cam,    5600     Wher Philomene was duellinge,     And of hir Soster the tidinge     He tolde, and tho thei weren glade,     And mochel joie of him thei made.     The fader and the moder bothe     To leve here douhter weren lothe,     Bot if thei weren in presence;     And natheles at reverence     Of him, that wolde himself travaile,     Thei wolden noght he scholde faile        5610     Of that he preide, and yive hire leve:     And sche, that wolde noght beleve,     In alle haste made hire yare     Toward hir Soster forto fare,     With Tere
s and forth sche wente.     And he with al his hole entente,     Whan sche was fro hir frendes go,     Assoteth of hire love so,     His yhe myhte he noght withholde,     That he ne moste on hir beholde;     5620     And with the sihte he gan desire,     And sette his oghne herte on fyre;     And fyr, whan it to tow aprocheth,     To him anon the strengthe acrocheth,     Til with his hete it be devoured,     The tow ne mai noght be socoured.     And so that tirant raviner,     Whan that sche was in his pouer,     And he therto sawh time and place,     As he that lost hath alle grace,     5630     Foryat he was a wedded man,     And in a rage on hire he ran,     Riht as a wolf which takth his preie.     And sche began to crie and preie,     "O fader, o mi moder diere,     Nou help!" Bot thei ne mihte it hiere,     And sche was of to litel myht     Defense ayein so ruide a knyht     To make, whanne he was so wod     That he no reson understod,    5640     Bot hield hire under in such wise,     That sche ne myhte noght arise,     Bot lay oppressed and desesed,     As if a goshauk hadde sesed     A brid, which dorste noght for fere     Remue: and thus this tirant there     Beraft hire such thing as men sein     Mai neveremor be yolde ayein,     And that was the virginite:     Of such Ravine it was pite.            5650     Bot whan sche to hirselven com,     And of hir meschief hiede nom,     And knew hou that sche was no maide,     With wofull herte thus sche saide,     "O thou of alle men the worste,     Wher was ther evere man that dorste     Do such a dede as thou hast do?     That dai schal falle, I hope so,     That I schal telle out al mi fille,     And with mi speche I schal fulfille     5660     The wyde world in brede and lengthe.     That thou hast do to me be strengthe,     If I among the poeple duelle,     Unto the poeple I schal it telle;     And if I be withinne wall     Of Stones closed, thanne I schal     Unto the Stones clepe and crie,     And tellen hem thi felonie;     And if I to the wodes wende,     Ther schal I tellen tale and ende,        5670     And crie it to the briddes oute,     That thei schul hiere it al aboute.     For I so loude it schal reherce,     That my vois schal the hevene perce,     That it schal soune in goddes Ere.     Ha, false man, where is thi fere?     O mor cruel than eny beste,     Hou hast thou holden thi beheste     Which thou unto my Soster madest?     O thou, which alle love ungladest,        5680     And art ensample of alle untrewe,     Nou wolde god mi Soster knewe,     Of thin untrouthe, hou that it stod!"     And he than as a Lyon wod     With hise unhappi handes stronge     Hire cauhte be the tresses longe,     With whiche he bond ther bothe hire armes,     That was a fieble dede of armes,     And to the grounde anon hire caste,     And out he clippeth also faste    5690     Hire tunge with a peire scheres.     So what with blod and what with teres     Out of hire yhe and of hir mouth,     He made hire faire face uncouth:     Sche lay swounende unto the deth,     Ther was unethes eny breth;     Bot yit whan he hire tunge refte,     A litel part therof belefte,     Bot sche with al no word mai soune,     Bot chitre and as a brid jargoune.        5700     And natheles that wode hound     Hir bodi hent up fro the ground,     And sente hir there as be his wille     Sche scholde abyde in prison stille     For everemo: bot nou tak hiede     What after fell of this misdede.     Whanne al this meschief was befalle,     This Tere
s, that foule him falle,     Unto his contre hom he tyh;     And whan he com his paleis nyh,        5710     His wif al redi there him kepte.     Whan he hir sih, anon he wepte,     And that he dede for deceite,     For sche began to axe him streite,     "Wher is mi Soster?" And he seide     That sche was ded; and Progne abreide,     As sche that was a wofull wif,     And stod betuen hire deth and lif,     Of that sche herde such tidinge:     Bot for sche sih hire lord wepinge,     5720     She wende noght bot alle trouthe,     And hadde wel the more routhe.     The Perles weren tho forsake     To hire, and blake clothes take;     As sche that was gentil and kinde,     In worschipe of hir Sostres mynde     Sche made a riche enterement,     For sche fond non amendement     To syghen or to sobbe more:     So was ther guile under the gore.    5730     Nou leve we this king and queene,     And torne ayein to Philomene,     As I began to tellen erst.     Whan sche cam into prison ferst,     It thoghte a kinges douhter strange     To maken so soudein a change     Fro welthe unto so grete a wo;     And sche began to thenke tho,     Thogh sche be mouthe nothing preide,     Withinne hir herte thus sche seide:     5740     "O thou, almyhty Jupiter,     That hihe sist and lokest fer,     Thou soffrest many a wrong doinge,     And yit it is noght thi willinge.     To thee ther mai nothing ben hid,     Thou wost hou it is me betid:     I wolde I hadde noght be bore,     For thanne I hadde noght forlore     Mi speche and mi virginite.     Bot, goode lord, al is in thee,        5750     Whan thou therof wolt do vengance     And schape mi deliverance."     And evere among this ladi wepte,     And thoghte that sche nevere kepte     To ben a worldes womman more,     And that sche wissheth everemore.     Bot ofte unto hir Soster diere     Hire herte spekth in this manere,     And seide, "Ha, Soster, if ye knewe     Of myn astat, ye wolde rewe,        5760     I trowe, and my deliverance     Ye wolde schape, and do vengance     On him that is so fals a man:     And natheles, so as I can,     I wol you sende som tokninge,     Wherof ye schul have knowlechinge     Of thing I wot, that schal you lothe,     The which you toucheth and me bothe."     And tho withinne a whyle als tyt     Sche waf a cloth of Selk al whyt     5770     With lettres and ymagerie,     In which was al the felonie,     Which Tere
s to hire hath do;     And lappede it togedre tho     And sette hir signet therupon     And sende it unto Progne anon.     The messager which forth it bar,     What it amonteth is noght war;     And natheles to Progne he goth     And prively takth hire the cloth,    5780     And wente ayein riht as he cam,     The court of him non hiede nam.     Whan Progne of Philomene herde,     Sche wolde knowe hou that it ferde,     And opneth that the man hath broght,     And wot therby what hath be wroght     And what meschief ther is befalle.     In swoune tho sche gan doun falle,     And efte aros and gan to stonde,     And eft sche takth the cloth on honde,     5790     Behield the lettres and thymages;     Bot ate laste, "Of suche oultrages,"     Sche seith, "wepinge is noght the bote:"     And swerth, if that sche live mote,     It schal be venged otherwise.     And with that sche gan hire avise     Hou ferst sche mihte unto hire winne     Hir Soster, that noman withinne,     Bot only thei that were suore,     It scholde knowe, and schop therfore    5800     That Tere
s nothing it wiste;     And yit riht as hirselven liste,     Hir Soster was delivered sone     Out of prison, and be the mone     To Progne sche was broght be nyhte.     Whan ech of other hadde a sihte,     In chambre, ther thei were al one,     Thei maden many a pitous mone;     Bot Progne most of sorwe made,     Which sihe hir Soster pale and fade     5810     And specheles and deshonoured,     Of that sche hadde be defloured;     And ek upon hir lord sche thoghte,     Of that he so untreuly wroghte     And hadde his espousaile broke.     Sche makth a vou it schal be wroke,     And with that word sche kneleth doun     Wepinge in gret devocioun:     Unto Cupide and to Venus     Sche preide, and seide thanne thus:     5820     "O ye, to whom nothing asterte     Of love mai, for every herte     Ye knowe, as ye that ben above     The god and the goddesse of love;     Ye witen wel that evere yit     With al mi will and al my wit,     Sith ferst ye schopen me to wedde,     That I lay with mi lord abedde,     I have be trewe in mi degre,     And evere thoghte forto be,    5830     And nevere love in other place,     Bot al only the king of Trace,     Which is mi lord and I his wif.     Bot nou allas this wofull strif!     That I him thus ayeinward finde     The most untrewe and most unkinde     That evere in ladi armes lay.     And wel I wot that he ne may     Amende his wrong, it is so gret;     For he to lytel of me let,     5840     Whan he myn oughne Soster tok,     And me that am his wif forsok."     Lo, thus to Venus and Cupide     Sche preide, and furthermor sche cride     Unto Appollo the hiheste,     And seide, "O myghti god of reste,     Thou do vengance of this debat.     Mi Soster and al hire astat     Thou wost, and hou sche hath forlore     Hir maidenhod, and I therfore     5850     In al the world schal bere a blame     Of that mi Soster hath a schame,     That Tere
s to hire I sente:     And wel thou wost that myn entente     Was al for worschipe and for goode.     O lord, that yifst the lives fode     To every wyht, I prei thee hiere     Thes wofull Sostres that ben hiere,     And let ous noght to the ben lothe;     We ben thin oghne wommen bothe."     5860     Thus pleigneth Progne and axeth wreche,     And thogh hire Soster lacke speche,     To him that alle thinges wot     Hire sorwe is noght the lasse hot:     Bot he that thanne had herd hem tuo,     Him oughte have sorwed everemo     For sorwe which was hem betuene.     With signes pleigneth Philomene,     And Progne seith, "It schal be wreke,     That al the world therof schal speke."     5870     And Progne tho seknesse feigneth,     Wherof unto hir lord sche pleigneth,     And preith sche moste hire chambres kepe,     And as hir liketh wake and slepe.     And he hire granteth to be so;     And thus togedre ben thei tuo,     That wolde him bot a litel good.     Nou herk hierafter hou it stod     Of wofull auntres that befelle:     Thes Sostres, that ben bothe felle,-    5880     And that was noght on hem along,     Bot onliche on the grete wrong     Which Tere
s hem hadde do,-     Thei schopen forto venge hem tho.     This Tere
s be Progne his wif     A Sone hath, which as his lif     He loveth, and Ithis he hihte:     His moder wiste wel sche mihte     Do Tere
s no more grief     Than sle this child, which was so lief.    5890     Thus sche, that was, as who seith, mad     Of wo, which hath hir overlad,     Withoute insihte of moderhede     Foryat pite and loste drede,     And in hir chambre prively     This child withouten noise or cry     Sche slou, and hieu him al to pieces:     And after with diverse spieces     The fleissh, whan it was so toheewe,     Sche takth, and makth therof a sewe,    5900     With which the fader at his mete     Was served, til he hadde him ete;     That he ne wiste hou that it stod,     Bot thus his oughne fleissh and blod     Himself devoureth ayein kinde,     As he that was tofore unkinde.     And thanne, er that he were arise,     For that he scholde ben agrise,     To schewen him the child was ded,     This Philomene tok the hed     5910     Betwen tuo disshes, and al wrothe     Tho comen forth the Sostres bothe,     And setten it upon the bord.     And Progne tho began the word,     And seide, "O werste of alle wicke,     Of conscience whom no pricke     Mai stere, lo, what thou hast do!     Lo, hier ben nou we Sostres tuo;     O Raviner, lo hier thi preie,     With whom so falsliche on the weie        5920     Thou hast thi tirannye wroght.     Lo, nou it is somdel aboght,     And bet it schal, for of thi dede     The world schal evere singe and rede     In remembrance of thi defame:     For thou to love hast do such schame,     That it schal nevere be foryete."     With that he sterte up fro the mete,     And schof the bord unto the flor,     And cauhte a swerd anon and suor     5930     That thei scholde of his handes dye.     And thei unto the goddes crie     Begunne with so loude a stevene,     That thei were herd unto the hevene;     And in a twinclinge of an yhe     The goddes, that the meschief syhe,     Here formes changen alle thre.     Echon of hem in his degre     Was torned into briddes kinde;     Diverseliche, as men mai finde,        5940     After thastat that thei were inne,     Here formes were set atwinne.     And as it telleth in the tale,     The ferst into a nyhtingale     Was schape, and that was Philomene,     Which in the wynter is noght sene,     For thanne ben the leves falle     And naked ben the buisshes alle.     For after that sche was a brid,     Hir will was evere to ben hid,    5950     And forto duelle in prive place,     That noman scholde sen hir face     For schame, which mai noght be lassed,     Of thing that was tofore passed,     Whan that sche loste hir maidenhiede:     For evere upon hir wommanhiede,     Thogh that the goddes wolde hire change,     Sche thenkth, and is the more strange,     And halt hir clos the wyntres day.     Bot whan the wynter goth away,    5960     And that Nature the goddesse     Wole of hir oughne fre largesse     With herbes and with floures bothe     The feldes and the medwes clothe,     And ek the wodes and the greves     Ben heled al with grene leves,     So that a brid hire hyde mai,     Betwen Averil and March and Maii,     Sche that the wynter hield hir clos,     For pure schame and noght aros,        5970     Whan that sche seth the bowes thikke,     And that ther is no bare sticke,     Bot al is hid with leves grene,     To wode comth this Philomene     And makth hir ferste yeres flyht;     Wher as sche singeth day and nyht,     And in hir song al openly     Sche makth hir pleignte and seith, "O why,     O why ne were I yit a maide?"     For so these olde wise saide,     5980     Which understoden what sche mente,     Hire notes ben of such entente.     And ek thei seide hou in hir song     Sche makth gret joie and merthe among,     And seith, "Ha, nou I am a brid,     Ha, nou mi face mai ben hid:     Thogh I have lost mi Maidenhede,     Schal noman se my chekes rede."     Thus medleth sche with joie wo     And with hir sorwe merthe also,        5990     So that of loves maladie     Sche makth diverse melodie,     And seith love is a wofull blisse,     A wisdom which can noman wisse,     A lusti fievere, a wounde softe:     This note sche reherceth ofte     To hem whiche understonde hir tale.     Nou have I of this nyhtingale,     Which erst was cleped Philomene,     Told al that evere I wolde mene,     6000     Bothe of hir forme and of hir note,     Wherof men mai the storie note.     And of hir Soster Progne I finde,     Hou sche was torned out of kinde     Into a Swalwe swift of winge,     Which ek in wynter lith swounynge,     Ther as sche mai nothing be sene:     Bot whan the world is woxe grene     And comen is the Somertide,     Than fleth sche forth and ginth to chide,     6010     And chitreth out in hir langage     What falshod is in mariage,     And telleth in a maner speche     Of Tere
s the Spousebreche.     Sche wol noght in the wodes duelle,     For sche wolde openliche telle;     And ek for that sche was a spouse,     Among the folk sche comth to house,     To do thes wyves understonde     The falshod of hire housebonde,        6020     That thei of hem be war also,     For ther ben manye untrewe of tho.     Thus ben the Sostres briddes bothe,     And ben toward the men so lothe,     That thei ne wole of pure schame     Unto no mannes hand be tame;     For evere it duelleth in here mynde     Of that thei founde a man unkinde,     And that was false Tere
s.     If such on be amonges ous        6030     I not, bot his condicion     Men sein in every region     Withinne toune and ek withoute     Nou regneth comunliche aboute.     And natheles in remembrance     I wol declare what vengance     The goddes hadden him ordeined,     Of that the Sostres hadden pleigned:     For anon after he was changed     And from his oghne kinde stranged,        6040     A lappewincke mad he was,     And thus he hoppeth on the gras,     And on his hed ther stant upriht     A creste in tokne he was a kniht;     And yit unto this dai men seith,     A lappewincke hath lore his feith     And is the brid falseste of alle.     Bewar, mi Sone, er thee so falle;     For if thou be of such covine,     To gete of love be Ravine        6050     Thi lust, it mai thee falle thus,     As it befell of Tere
s.     Mi fader, goddes forebode!     Me were levere be fortrode     With wilde hors and be todrawe,     Er I ayein love and his lawe     Dede eny thing or loude or stille,     Which were noght mi ladi wille.     Men sein that every love hath drede;     So folweth it that I hire drede,     6060     For I hire love, and who so dredeth,     To plese his love and serve him nedeth.     Thus mai ye knowen be this skile     That no Ravine don I wile     Ayein hir will be such a weie;     Bot while I live, I wol obeie     Abidinge on hire courtesie,     If eny merci wolde hir plie.     Forthi, mi fader, as of this     I wot noght I have don amis:        6070     Bot furthermore I you beseche,     Som other point that ye me teche,     And axeth forth, if ther be auht,     That I mai be the betre tauht.     Whan Covoitise in povere astat     Stant with himself upon debat     Thurgh lacke of his misgovernance,     That he unto his sustienance     Ne can non other weie finde     To gete him good, thanne as the blinde,    6080     Which seth noght what schal after falle,     That ilke vice which men calle     Of Robberie, he takth on honde;     Wherof be water and be londe     Of thing which othre men beswinke     He get him cloth and mete and drinke.     Him reccheth noght what he beginne,     Thurgh thefte so that he mai winne:     Forthi to maken his pourchas     He lith awaitende on the pas,     6090     And what thing that he seth ther passe,     He takth his part, or more or lasse,     If it be worthi to be take.     He can the packes wel ransake,     So prively berth non aboute     His gold, that he ne fint it oute,     Or other juel, what it be;     He takth it as his proprete.     In wodes and in feldes eke     Thus Robberie goth to seke,    6100     Wher as he mai his pourpos finde.     And riht so in the same kinde,     My goode Sone, as thou miht hiere,     To speke of love in the matiere     And make a verrai resemblance,     Riht as a thief makth his chevance     And robbeth mennes good aboute     In wode and field, wher he goth oute,     So be ther of these lovers some,     In wylde stedes wher thei come    6110     And finden there a womman able,     And therto place covenable,     Withoute leve, er that thei fare,     Thei take a part of that chaffare:     Yee, though sche were a Scheperdesse,     Yit wol the lord of wantounesse     Assaie, althogh sche be unmete,     For other mennes good is swete.     Bot therof wot nothing the wif     At hom, which loveth as hir lif        6120     Hir lord, and sitt alday wisshinge     After hir lordes hom comynge:     Bot whan that he comth hom at eve,     Anon he makth his wif beleve,     For sche noght elles scholde knowe:     He telth hire hou his hunte hath blowe,     And hou his houndes have wel runne,     And hou ther schon a merye Sunne,     And hou his haukes flowen wel;     Bot he wol telle her nevere a diel        6130     Hou he to love untrewe was,     Of that he robbede in the pas,     And tok his lust under the schawe     Ayein love and ayein his lawe.     Which thing, mi Sone, I thee forbede,     For it is an ungoodly dede.     For who that takth be Robberie     His love, he mai noght justefie     His cause, and so fulofte sithe     For ones that he hath be blithe        6140     He schal ben after sory thries.     Ensample of suche Robberies     I finde write, as thou schalt hiere,     Acordende unto this matiere.     I rede hou whilom was a Maide,     The faireste, as Ovide saide,     Which was in hire time tho;     And sche was of the chambre also     Of Pallas, which is the goddesse     And wif to Marte, of whom prouesse        6150     Is yove to these worthi knihtes.     For he is of so grete mihtes,     That he governeth the bataille;     Withouten him may noght availe     The stronge hond, bot he it helpe;     Ther mai no knyht of armes yelpe,     Bot he feihte under his banere.     Bot nou to speke of mi matiere,     This faire, freisshe, lusti mai,     Al one as sche wente on a dai     6160     Upon the stronde forto pleie,     Ther cam Neptunus in the weie,     Which hath the See in governance;     And in his herte such plesance     He tok, whan he this Maide sih,     That al his herte aros on hih,     For he so sodeinliche unwar     Behield the beaute that sche bar.     And caste anon withinne his herte     That sche him schal no weie asterte,    6170     Bot if he take in avantage     Fro thilke maide som pilage,     Noght of the broches ne the Ringes,     Bot of some othre smale thinges     He thoghte parte, er that sche wente;     And hire in bothe hise armes hente,     And putte his hond toward the cofre,     Wher forto robbe he made a profre,     That lusti tresor forto stele,     Which passeth othre goodes fele        6180     And cleped is the maidenhede,     Which is the flour of wommanhede.     This Maiden, which Cornix be name     Was hote, dredende alle schame,     Sih that sche mihte noght debate,     And wel sche wiste he wolde algate     Fulfille his lust of Robberie,     Anon began to wepe and crie,     And seide, "O Pallas, noble queene,     Scheu nou thi myht and let be sene,     6190     To kepe and save myn honour:     Help, that I lese noght mi flour,     Which nou under thi keie is loke."     That word was noght so sone spoke,     Whan Pallas schop recoverir     After the will and the desir     Of hire, which a Maiden was,     And sodeinliche upon this cas     Out of hire wommanisshe kinde     Into a briddes like I finde    6200     Sche was transformed forth withal,     So that Neptunus nothing stal     Of such thing as he wolde have stole.     With fetheres blake as eny cole     Out of hise armes in a throwe     Sche flih before his yhe a Crowe;     Which was to hire a more delit,     To kepe hire maidenhede whit     Under the wede of fethers blake,     In Perles whyte than forsake        6210     That no lif mai restore ayein.     Bot thus Neptune his herte in vein     Hath upon Robberie sett;     The bridd is flowe and he was let,     The faire Maide him hath ascaped,     Wherof for evere he was bejaped     And scorned of that he hath lore.     Mi Sone, be thou war therfore     That thou no maidenhode stele,     Wherof men sen deseses fele    6220     Aldai befalle in sondri wise;     So as I schal thee yit devise     An other tale therupon,     Which fell be olde daies gon.     King Lichaon upon his wif     A dowhter hadde, a goodly lif,     A clene Maide of worthi fame,     Calistona whos rihte name     Was cleped, and of many a lord     Sche was besoght, bot hire acord     6230     To love myhte noman winne,     As sche which hath no lust therinne;     Bot swor withinne hir herte and saide     That sche wolde evere ben a Maide.     Wherof to kepe hireself in pes,     With suche as Amadriades     Were cleped, wodemaydes, tho,     And with the Nimphes ek also     Upon the spring of freisshe welles     Sche schop to duelle and nagher elles.     6240     And thus cam this Calistona     Into the wode of Tegea,     Wher sche virginite behihte     Unto Diane, and therto plihte     Her trouthe upon the bowes grene,     To kepe hir maidenhode clene.     Which afterward upon a day     Was priveliche stole away;     For Jupiter thurgh his queintise     From hire it tok in such a wise,     6250     That sodeinliche forth withal     Hire wombe aros and sche toswal,     So that it mihte noght ben hidd.     And therupon it is betidd,     Diane, which it herde telle,     In prive place unto a welle     With Nimphes al a compainie     Was come, and in a ragerie     Sche seide that sche bathe wolde,     And bad that every maide scholde     6260     With hire al naked bathe also.     And tho began the prive wo,     Calistona wax red for schame;     Bot thei that knewe noght the game,     To whom no such thing was befalle,     Anon thei made hem naked alle,     As thei that nothing wolden hyde:     Bot sche withdrouh hire evere asyde,     And natheles into the flod,     Wher that Diane hirselve stod,    6270     Sche thoghte come unaperceived.     Bot therof sche was al deceived;     For whan sche cam a litel nyh,     And that Diane hire wombe syh,     Sche seide, "Awey, thou foule beste,     For thin astat is noght honeste     This chaste water forto touche;     For thou hast take such a touche,     Which nevere mai ben hol ayein."     And thus goth sche which was forlein    6280     With schame, and fro the Nimphes fledde,     Til whanne that nature hire spedde,     That of a Sone, which Archas     Was named, sche delivered was.     And tho Juno, which was the wif     Of Jupiter, wroth and hastif,     In pourpos forto do vengance     Cam forth upon this ilke chance,     And to Calistona sche spak,     And sette upon hir many a lak,    6290     And seide, "Ha, nou thou art atake,     That thou thi werk myht noght forsake.     Ha, thou ungoodlich ypocrite,     Hou thou art gretly forto wyte!     Bot nou thou schalt ful sore abie     That ilke stelthe and micherie,     Which thou hast bothe take and do;     Wherof thi fader Lichao     Schal noght be glad, whan he it wot,     Of that his dowhter was so hot,        6300     That sche hath broke hire chaste avou.     Bot I thee schal chastise nou;     Thi grete beaute schal be torned,     Thurgh which that thou hast be mistorned,     Thi large frount, thin yhen greie,     I schal hem change in other weie,     And al the feture of thi face     In such a wise I schal deface,     That every man thee schal forbere."     With that the liknesse of a bere     6310     Sche tok and was forschape anon.     Withinne a time and therupon     Befell that with a bowe on honde,     To hunte and gamen forto fonde,     Into that wode goth to pleie     Hir Sone Archas, and in his weie     It hapneth that this bere cam.     And whan that sche good hiede nam,     Wher that he stod under the bowh,     Sche kneu him wel and to him drouh;     6320     For thogh sche hadde hire forme lore,     The love was noght lost therfore     Which kinde hath set under his lawe.     Whan sche under the wodesschawe     Hire child behield, sche was so glad,     That sche with bothe hire armes sprad,     As thogh sche were in wommanhiede,     Toward him cam, and tok non hiede     Of that he bar a bowe bent.     And he with that an Arwe hath hent        6330     And gan to teise it in his bowe,     As he that can non other knowe,     Bot that it was a beste wylde.     Bot Jupiter, which wolde schylde     The Moder and the Sone also,     Ordeineth for hem bothe so,     That thei for evere were save.     Bot thus, mi Sone, thou myht have     Ensample, hou that it is to fle     To robbe the virginite        6340     Of a yong innocent aweie:     And overthis be other weie,     In olde bokes as I rede,     Such Robberie is forto drede,     And nameliche of thilke good     Which every womman that is good     Desireth forto kepe and holde,     As whilom was be daies olde.     For if thou se mi tale wel     Of that was tho, thou miht somdiel        6350     Of old ensample taken hiede,     Hou that the flour of maidenhiede     Was thilke time holde in pris.     And so it was, and so it is,     And so it schal for evere stonde:     And for thou schalt it understonde,     Nou herkne a tale next suiende,     Hou maidenhod is to commende.     Of Rome among the gestes olde     I finde hou that Valerie tolde    6360     That what man tho was Emperour     Of Rome, he scholde don honour     To the virgine, and in the weie,     Wher he hire mette, he scholde obeie     In worschipe of virginite,     Which tho was of gret dignite.     Noght onliche of the wommen tho,     Bot of the chaste men also     It was commended overal:     And forto speke in special     6370     Touchende of men, ensample I finde,     Phyryns, which was of mannes kinde     Above alle othre the faireste     Of Rome and ek the comelieste,     That wel was hire which him mihte     Beholde and have of him a sihte.     Thus was he tempted ofte sore;     Bot for he wolde be nomore     Among the wommen so coveited,     The beaute of his face streited        6380     He hath, and threste out bothe hise yhen,     That alle wommen whiche him syhen     Thanne afterward, of him ne roghte:     And thus his maidehiede he boghte.     So mai I prove wel forthi,     Above alle othre under the Sky,     Who that the vertus wolde peise,     Virginite is forto preise,     Which, as thapocalips recordeth,     To Crist in hevene best acordeth.    6390     So mai it schewe wel therfore,     As I have told it hier tofore,     In hevene and ek in Erthe also     It is accept to bothe tuo.     And if I schal more over this     Declare what this vertu is,     I finde write upon this thing     Of Valentinian the king     And Emperour be thilke daies,     A worthi knyht at alle assaies,        6400     Hou he withoute Mariage     Was of an hundred wynter Age,     And hadde ben a worthi kniht     Bothe of his lawe and of his myht.     Bot whan men wolde his dedes peise     And his knyhthode of Armes preise,     Of that he dede with his hondes,     Whan he the kinges and the londes     To his subjeccion put under,     Of al that pris hath he no wonder,        6410     For he it sette of non acompte,     And seide al that may noght amonte     Ayeins o point which he hath nome,     That he his fleissh hath overcome:     He was a virgine, as he seide;     On that bataille his pris he leide.     Lo nou, my Sone, avise thee.     Yee, fader, al this wel mai be,     Bot if alle othre dede so,     The world of men were sone go:    6420     And in the lawe a man mai finde,     Hou god to man be weie of kinde     Hath set the world to multeplie;     And who that wol him justefie,     It is ynouh to do the lawe.     And natheles youre goode sawe     Is good to kepe, who so may,     I wol noght therayein seie nay.     Mi Sone, take it as I seie;     If maidenhod be take aweie     6430     Withoute lawes ordinance,     It mai noght failen of vengance.     And if thou wolt the sothe wite,     Behold a tale which is write,     Hou that the King Agamenon,     Whan he the Cite of Lesbon     Hath wonne, a Maiden ther he fond,     Which was the faireste of the Lond     In thilke time that men wiste.     He tok of hire what him liste     6440     Of thing which was most precious,     Wherof that sche was dangerous.     This faire Maiden cleped is     Criseide, douhter of Crisis,     Which was that time in special     Of thilke temple principal,     Wher Phebus hadde his sacrifice,     So was it wel the more vice.     Agamenon was thanne in weie     To Troieward, and tok aweie    6450     This Maiden, which he with him ladde,     So grete a lust in hire he hadde.     Bot Phebus, which hath gret desdeign     Of that his Maiden was forlein,     Anon as he to Troie cam,     Vengance upon this dede he nam     And sende a comun pestilence.     Thei soghten thanne here evidence     And maden calculacion,     To knowe in what condicion     6460     This deth cam in so sodeinly;     And ate laste redyly     The cause and ek the man thei founde:     And forth withal the same stounde     Agamenon opposed was,     Which hath beknowen al the cas     Of the folie which he wroghte.     And therupon mercy thei soghte     Toward the god in sondri wise     With preiere and with sacrifise,     6470     The Maide and hom ayein thei sende,     And yive hire good ynouh to spende     For evere whil sche scholde live:     And thus the Senne was foryive     And al the pestilence cessed.     Lo, what it is to ben encressed     Of love which is evele wonne.     It were betre noght begonne     Than take a thing withoute leve,     Which thou most after nedes leve,    6480     And yit have malgre forth withal.     Forthi to robben overal     In loves cause if thou beginne,     I not what ese thou schalt winne.     Mi Sone, be wel war of this,     For thus of Robberie it is.     Mi fader, youre ensamplerie     In loves cause of Robberie     I have it riht wel understonde.     Bot overthis, hou so it stonde,        6490     Yit wolde I wite of youre aprise     What thing is more of Covoitise.     With Covoitise yit I finde     A Servant of the same kinde,     Which Stelthe is hote, and Mecherie     With him is evere in compainie.     Of whom if I schal telle soth,     He stalketh as a Pocok doth,     And takth his preie so covert,     That noman wot it in apert.    6500     For whan he wot the lord from home,     Than wol he stalke aboute and rome;     And what thing he fint in his weie,     Whan that he seth the men aweie,     He stelth it and goth forth withal,     That therof noman knowe schal.     And ek fulofte he goth a nyht     Withoute Mone or sterreliht,     And with his craft the dore unpiketh,     And takth therinne what him liketh:     6510     And if the dore be so schet,     That he be of his entre let,     He wole in ate wyndou crepe,     And whil the lord is faste aslepe,     He stelth what thing as him best list,     And goth his weie er it be wist.     Fulofte also be lyhte of day     Yit wole he stele and make assay;     Under the cote his hond he put,     Til he the mannes Purs have cut,     6520     And rifleth that he fint therinne.     And thus he auntreth him to winne,     And berth an horn and noght ne bloweth,     For noman of his conseil knoweth;     What he mai gete of his Michinge,     It is al bile under the winge.     And as an hound that goth to folde     And hath ther taken what he wolde,     His mouth upon the gras he wypeth,     And so with feigned chiere him slypeth,    6530     That what as evere of schep he strangle,     Ther is noman therof schal jangle,     As forto knowen who it dede;     Riht so doth Stelthe in every stede,     Where as him list his preie take.     He can so wel his cause make     And so wel feigne and so wel glose,     That ther ne schal noman suppose,     Bot that he were an innocent,     And thus a mannes yhe he blent:        6540     So that this craft I mai remene     Withouten help of eny mene.     Ther be lovers of that degre,     Which al here lust in privete,     As who seith, geten al be Stelthe,     And ofte atteignen to gret welthe     As for the time that it lasteth.     For love awaiteth evere and casteth     Hou he mai stele and cacche his preie,     Whan he therto mai finde a weie:     6550     For be it nyht or be it day,     He takth his part, whan that he may,     And if he mai nomore do,     Yit wol he stele a cuss or tuo.     Mi Sone, what seist thou therto?     Tell if thou dedest evere so.     Mi fader, hou? Mi Sone, thus,-     If thou hast stolen eny cuss     Or other thing which therto longeth,     For noman suche thieves hongeth:     6560     Tell on forthi and sei the trouthe.     Mi fader, nay, and that is routhe,     For be mi will I am a thief;     Bot sche that is to me most lief,     Yit dorste I nevere in privete     Noght ones take hire be the kne,     To stele of hire or this or that,     And if I dorste, I wot wel what:     And natheles, bot if I lie,     Be Stelthe ne be Robberie        6570     Of love, which fell in mi thoght,     To hire dede I nevere noght.     Bot as men sein, wher herte is failed,     Ther schal no castell ben assailed;     Bot thogh I hadde hertes ten,     And were als strong as alle men,     If I be noght myn oghne man     And dar noght usen that I can,     I mai miselve noght recovere.     Thogh I be nevere man so povere,     6580     I bere an herte and hire it is,     So that me faileth wit in this,     Hou that I scholde of myn acord     The servant lede ayein the lord:     For if mi fot wolde awher go,     Or that min hand wolde elles do,     Whan that myn herte is therayein,     The remenant is al in vein.     And thus me lacketh alle wele,     And yit ne dar I nothing stele    6590     Of thing which longeth unto love:     And ek it is so hyh above,     I mai noght wel therto areche,     Bot if so be at time of speche,     Ful selde if thanne I stele may     A word or tuo and go my way.     Betwen hire hih astat and me     Comparison ther mai non be,     So that I fiele and wel I wot,     Al is to hevy and to hot    6600     To sette on hond withoute leve:     And thus I mot algate leve     To stele that I mai noght take,     And in this wise I mot forsake     To ben a thief ayein mi wille     Of thing which I mai noght fulfille.     For that Serpent which nevere slepte     The flees of gold so wel ne kepte     In Colchos, as the tale is told,     That mi ladi a thousendfold    6610     Nys betre yemed and bewaked,     Wher sche be clothed or be naked.     To kepe hir bodi nyht and day,     Sche hath a wardein redi ay,     Which is so wonderful a wyht,     That him ne mai no mannes myht     With swerd ne with no wepne daunte,     Ne with no sleihte of charme enchaunte,     Wherof he mihte be mad tame,     And Danger is his rihte name;     6620     Which under lock and under keie,     That noman mai it stele aweie,     Hath al the Tresor underfonge     That unto love mai belonge.     The leste lokinge of hire yhe     Mai noght be stole, if he it syhe;     And who so gruccheth for so lyte,     He wolde sone sette a wyte     On him that wolde stele more.     And that me grieveth wonder sore,    6630     For this proverbe is evere newe,     That stronge lokes maken trewe     Of hem that wolden stele and pyke:     For so wel can ther noman slyke     Be him ne be non other mene,     To whom Danger wol yive or lene     Of that tresor he hath to kepe.     So thogh I wolde stalke and crepe,     And wayte on eve and ek on morwe,     Of Danger schal I nothing borwe,     6640     And stele I wot wel may I noght:     And thus I am riht wel bethoght,     Whil Danger stant in his office,     Of Stelthe, which ye clepe a vice,     I schal be gultif neveremo.     Therfore I wolde he were ago     So fer that I nevere of him herde,     Hou so that afterward it ferde:     For thanne I mihte yit per cas     Of love make som pourchas        6650     Be Stelthe or be som other weie,     That nou fro me stant fer aweie.     Bot, fader, as ye tolde above,     Hou Stelthe goth a nyht for love,     I mai noght wel that point forsake,     That ofte times I ne wake     On nyhtes, whan that othre slepe;     Bot hou, I prei you taketh kepe.     Whan I am loged in such wise     That I be nyhte mai arise,     6660     At som wyndowe and loken oute     And se the housinge al aboute,     So that I mai the chambre knowe     In which mi ladi, as I trowe,     Lyth in hir bed and slepeth softe,     Thanne is myn herte a thief fulofte:     For there I stonde to beholde     The longe nyhtes that ben colde,     And thenke on hire that lyth there.     And thanne I wisshe that I were        6670     Als wys as was Nectanabus     Or elles as was Prothe
s,     That couthen bothe of nigromaunce     In what liknesse, in what semblaunce,     Riht as hem liste, hemself transforme:     For if I were of such a forme,     I seie thanne I wolde fle     Into the chambre forto se     If eny grace wolde falle,     So that I mihte under the palle        6680     Som thing of love pyke and stele.     And thus I thenke thoghtes fele,     And thogh therof nothing be soth,     Yit ese as for a time it doth:     Bot ate laste whanne I finde     That I am falle into my mynde,     And se that I have stonde longe     And have no profit underfonge,     Than stalke I to mi bedd withinne.     And this is al that evere I winne    6690     Of love, whanne I walke on nyht:     Mi will is good, bot of mi myht     Me lacketh bothe and of mi grace;     For what so that mi thoght embrace,     Yit have I noght the betre ferd.     Mi fader, lo, nou have ye herd     What I be Stelthe of love have do,     And hou mi will hath be therto:     If I be worthi to penance     I put it on your ordinance.    6700     Mi Sone, of Stelthe I the behiete,     Thogh it be for a time swete,     At ende it doth bot litel good,     As be ensample hou that it stod     Whilom, I mai thee telle nou.     I preie you, fader, sei me hou.     Mi Sone, of him which goth be daie     Be weie of Stelthe to assaie,     In loves cause and takth his preie,     Ovide seide as I schal seie,        6710     And in his Methamor he tolde     A tale, which is good to holde.     The Poete upon this matiere     Of Stelthe wrot in this manere.     Venus, which hath this lawe in honde     Of thing which mai noght be withstonde,     As sche which the tresor to warde     Of love hath withinne hir warde,     Phebum to love hath so constreigned,     That he withoute reste is peined     6720     With al his herte to coveite     A Maiden, which was warded streyte     Withinne chambre and kept so clos,     That selden was whan sche desclos     Goth with hir moder forto pleie.     Leuchotoe, so as men seie,     This Maiden hihte, and Orchamus     Hir fader was; and befell thus.     This doughter, that was kept so deere,     And hadde be fro yer to yeere     6730     Under hir moder discipline     A clene Maide and a Virgine,     Upon the whos nativite     Of comelihiede and of beaute     Nature hath set al that sche may,     That lich unto the fresshe Maii,     Which othre monthes of the yeer     Surmonteth, so withoute pier     Was of this Maiden the feture.     Wherof Phebus out of mesure    6740     Hire loveth, and on every syde     Awaiteth, if so mai betyde,     That he thurgh eny sleihte myhte     Hire lusti maidenhod unrihte,     The which were al his worldes welthe.     And thus lurkende upon his stelthe     In his await so longe he lai,     Til it befell upon a dai,     That he thurghout hir chambre wall     Cam in al sodeinliche, and stall     6750     That thing which was to him so lief.     Bot wo the while, he was a thief!     For Venus, which was enemie     Of thilke loves micherie,     Discovereth al the pleine cas     To Clymene, which thanne was     Toward Phebus his concubine.     And sche to lette the covine     Of thilke love, dedli wroth     To pleigne upon this Maide goth,     6760     And tolde hire fader hou it stod;     Wherof for sorwe welnyh wod     Unto hire moder thus he saide:     "Lo, what it is to kepe a Maide!     To Phebus dar I nothing speke,     Bot upon hire I schal be wreke,     So that these Maidens after this     Mow take ensample, what it is     To soffre her maidenhed be stole,     Wherof that sche the deth schal thole."    6770     And bad with that do make a pet,     Wherinne he hath his douhter set,     As he that wol no pite have,     So that sche was al quik begrave     And deide anon in his presence.     Bot Phebus, for the reverence     Of that sche hadde be his love,     Hath wroght thurgh his pouer above,     That sche sprong up out of the molde     Into a flour was named golde,     6780     Which stant governed of the Sonne.     And thus whan love is evele wonne,     Fulofte it comth to repentaile.     Mi fader, that is no mervaile,     Whan that the conseil is bewreid.     Bot ofte time love hath pleid     And stole many a prive game,     Which nevere yit cam into blame,     Whan that the thinges weren hidde.     Bot in youre tale, as it betidde,    6790     Venus discoverede al the cas,     And ek also brod dai it was,     Whan Phebus such a Stelthe wroghte,     Wherof the Maide in blame he broghte,     That afterward sche was so lore.     Bot for ye seiden nou tofore     Hou stelthe of love goth be nyhte,     And doth hise thinges out of syhte,     Therof me liste also to hiere     A tale lich to the matiere,    6800     Wherof I myhte ensample take.     Mi goode Sone, and for thi sake,     So as it fell be daies olde,     And so as the Poete it tolde,     Upon the nyhtes micherie     Nou herkne a tale of Poesie.     The myhtieste of alle men     Whan Hercules with Eolen,     Which was the love of his corage,     Togedre upon a Pelrinage    6810     Towardes Rome scholden go,     It fell hem be the weie so,     That thei upon a dai a Cave     Withinne a roche founden have,     Which was real and glorious     And of Entaile curious,     Be name and Thophis it was hote.     The Sonne schon tho wonder hote,     As it was in the Somer tyde;     This Hercules, which be his syde     6820     Hath Eolen his love there,     Whan thei at thilke cave were,     He seide it thoghte him for the beste     That sche hire for the hete reste     Al thilke day and thilke nyht;     And sche, that was a lusti wyht,     It liketh hire al that he seide:     And thus thei duelle there and pleide     The longe dai. And so befell,     This Cave was under the hell        6830     Of Tymolus, which was begrowe     With vines, and at thilke throwe     Faunus with Saba the goddesse,     Be whom the large wildernesse     In thilke time stod governed,     Weere in a place, as I am lerned,     Nyh by, which Bachus wode hihte.     This Faunus tok a gret insihte     Of Eolen, that was so nyh;     For whan that he hire beaute syh,    6840     Out of his wit he was assoted,     And in his herte it hath so noted,     That he forsok the Nimphes alle,     And seide he wolde, hou so it falle,     Assaie an other forto winne;     So that his hertes thoght withinne     He sette and caste hou that he myhte     Of love pyke awey be nyhte     That he be daie in other wise     To stele mihte noght suffise:     6850     And therupon his time he waiteth.     Nou tak good hiede hou love afaiteth     Him which withal is overcome.     Faire Eolen, whan sche was come     With Hercules into the Cave,     Sche seide him that sche wolde have     Hise clothes of and hires bothe,     That ech of hem scholde other clothe.     And al was do riht as sche bad,     He hath hire in hise clothes clad            6860     And caste on hire his gulion,     Which of the Skyn of a Leoun     Was mad, as he upon the weie     It slouh, and overthis to pleie     Sche tok his grete Mace also     And knet it at hir gerdil tho.     So was sche lich the man arraied,     And Hercules thanne hath assaied     To clothen him in hire array:     And thus thei jape forth the dai,    6870     Til that her Souper redy were.     And whan thei hadden souped there,     Thei schopen hem to gon to reste;     And as it thoghte hem for the beste,     Thei bede, as for that ilke nyht,     Tuo sondri beddes to be dyht,     For thei togedre ligge nolde,     Be cause that thei offre wolde     Upon the morwe here sacrifice.     The servantz deden here office    6880     And sondri beddes made anon,     Wherin that thei to reste gon     Ech be himself in sondri place.     Faire Eole hath set the Mace     Beside hire beddes hed above,     And with the clothes of hire love     Sche helede al hire bed aboute;     And he, which hadde of nothing doute,     Hire wympel wond aboute his cheke,     Hire kertell and hire mantel eke     6890     Abrod upon his bed he spredde.     And thus thei slepen bothe abedde;     And what of travail, what of wyn,     The servantz lich to drunke Swyn     Begunne forto route faste.     This Faunus, which his Stelthe caste,     Was thanne come to the Cave,     And fond thei weren alle save     Withoute noise, and in he wente.     The derke nyht his sihte blente,     6900     And yit it happeth him to go     Where Eolen abedde tho     Was leid al one for to slepe;     Bot for he wolde take kepe     Whos bed it was, he made assai,     And of the Leoun, where it lay,     The Cote he fond, and ek he fieleth     The Mace, and thanne his herte kieleth,     That there dorste he noght abyde,     Bot stalketh upon every side        6910     And soghte aboute with his hond,     That other bedd til that he fond,     Wher lai bewympled a visage.     Tho was he glad in his corage,     For he hir kertell fond also     And ek hir mantell bothe tuo     Bespred upon the bed alofte.     He made him naked thanne, and softe     Into the bedd unwar he crepte,     Wher Hercules that time slepte,        6920     And wende wel it were sche;     And thus in stede of Eole     Anon he profreth him to love.     But he, which felte a man above,     This Hercules, him threw to grounde     So sore, that thei have him founde     Liggende there upon the morwe;     And tho was noght a litel sorwe,     That Faunus of himselve made,     Bot elles thei were alle glade    6930     And lowhen him to scorne aboute:     Saba with Nimphis al a route     Cam doun to loke hou that he ferde,     And whan that thei the sothe herde,     He was bejaped overal.     Mi Sone, be thou war withal     To seche suche mecheries,     Bot if thou have the betre aspies,     In aunter if the so betyde     As Faunus dede thilke tyde,    6940     Wherof thou miht be schamed so.     Min holi fader, certes no.     Bot if I hadde riht good leve,     Such mecherie I thenke leve:     Mi feinte herte wol noght serve;     For malgre wolde I noght deserve     In thilke place wher I love.     Bot for ye tolden hier above     Of Covoitise and his pilage,     If ther be more of that lignage,     6950     Which toucheth to mi schrifte, I preie     That ye therof me wolde seie,     So that I mai the vice eschuie.     Mi Sone, if I be order suie     The vices, as thei stonde arowe,     Of Covoitise thou schalt knowe     Ther is yit on, which is the laste;     In whom ther mai no vertu laste,     For he with god himself debateth,     Wherof that al the hevene him hateth.        6960     The hihe god, which alle goode     Pourveied hath for mannes fode     Of clothes and of mete and drinke,     Bad Adam that he scholde swinke     To geten him his sustienance:     And ek he sette an ordinance     Upon the lawe of Moi5ses,     That though a man be haveles,     Yit schal he noght be thefte stele.     Bot nou adaies ther ben fele,             6970     That wol no labour undertake,     Bot what thei mai be Stelthe take     Thei holde it sikerliche wonne.     And thus the lawe is overronne,     Which god hath set, and namely     With hem that so untrewely     The goodes robbe of holi cherche.     The thefte which thei thanne werche     Be name is cleped Sacrilegge,     Ayein the whom I thenke alegge.        6980     Of his condicion to telle,     Which rifleth bothe bok and belle,     So forth with al the remenant     To goddes hous appourtenant,     Wher that he scholde bidde his bede,     He doth his thefte in holi stede,     And takth what thing he fint therinne:     For whan he seth that he mai winne,     He wondeth for no cursednesse,     That he ne brekth the holinesse        6990     And doth to god no reverence;     For he hath lost his conscience,     That though the Prest therfore curse,     He seith he fareth noght the wurse.     And forto speke it otherwise,     What man that lasseth the franchise     And takth of holi cherche his preie,     I not what bedes he schal preie.     Whan he fro god, which hath yive al,     The Pourpartie in special,     7000     Which unto Crist himself is due,     Benymth, he mai noght wel eschue     The peine comende afterward;     For he hath mad his foreward     With Sacrilegge forto duelle,     Which hath his heritage in helle.     And if we rede of tholde lawe,     I finde write, in thilke dawe     Of Princes hou ther weren thre     Coupable sore in this degre.        7010     That on of hem was cleped thus,     The proude king Antiochus;     That other Nabuzardan hihte,     Which of his crualte behyhte     The temple to destruie and waste,     And so he dede in alle haste;     The thridde, which was after schamed,     Was Nabugodonosor named,     And he Jerusalem putte under,     Of Sacrilegge and many a wonder        7020     There in the holi temple he wroghte,     Which Baltazar his heir aboghte,     Whan Mane, Techel, Phares write     Was on the wal, as thou miht wite,     So as the bible it hath declared.     Bot for al that it is noght spared     Yit nou aday, that men ne pile,     And maken argument and skile     To Sacrilegge as it belongeth,     For what man that ther after longeth,        7030     He takth non hiede what he doth.     And riht so, forto telle soth,     In loves cause if I schal trete,     Ther ben of suche smale and grete:     If thei no leisir fynden elles,     Thei wol noght wonden for the belles,     Ne thogh thei sen the Prest at masse;     That wol thei leten overpasse.     If that thei finde here love there,     Thei stonde and tellen in hire Ere,     7040     And axe of god non other grace,     Whyl thei ben in that holi place;     Bot er thei gon som avantage     Ther wol thei have, and som pilage     Of goodli word or of beheste,     Or elles thei take ate leste     Out of hir hand or ring or glove,     So nyh the weder thei wol love,     As who seith sche schal noght foryete,     Nou I this tokne of hire have gete:     7050     Thus halwe thei the hihe feste.     Such thefte mai no cherche areste,     For al is leveful that hem liketh,     To whom that elles it misliketh.     And ek riht in the selve kinde     In grete Cites men mai finde     This lusti folk, that make it gay,     And waite upon the haliday:     In cherches and in Menstres eke     Thei gon the wommen forto seke,        7060     And wher that such on goth aboute,     Tofore the faireste of the route,     Wher as thei sitten alle arewe,     Ther wol he most    his bodi schewe,     His croket kembd and theron set     A Nouche with a chapelet,     Or elles on of grene leves,     Which late com out of the greves,     Al for he scholde seme freissh.     And thus he loketh on the fleissh,                7070     Riht as an hauk which hath a sihte     Upon the foul, ther he schal lihte;     And as he were of faierie,     He scheweth him tofore here yhe     In holi place wher thei sitte,     Al forto make here hertes flitte.     His yhe nawher wole abyde,     Bot loke and prie on every syde     On hire and hire, as him best lyketh:     And otherwhile among he syketh;        7080     Thenkth on of hem, "That was for me,"     And so ther thenken tuo or thre,     And yit he loveth non of alle,     Bot wher as evere his chance falle.     And natheles to seie a soth,     The cause why that he so doth     Is forto stele an herte or tuo,     Out of the cherche er that he go:     And as I seide it hier above,     Al is that Sacrilege of love;     7090     For wel mai be he stelth away     That he nevere after yelde may.     Tell me forthi, my Sone, anon,     Hast thou do Sacrilege, or non,     As I have said in this manere?     Mi fader, as of this matiere     I wole you tellen redely     What I have do; bot trewely     I mai excuse min entente,     That nevere I yit to cherche wente        7100     In such manere as ye me schryve,     For no womman that is on lyve.     The cause why I have it laft     Mai be for I unto that craft     Am nothing able so to stele,     Thogh ther be wommen noght so fele.     Bot yit wol I noght seie this,     Whan I am ther mi ladi is,     In whom lith holly mi querele,     And sche to cherche or to chapele    7110     Wol go to matins or to messe,-     That time I waite wel and gesse,     To cherche I come and there I stonde,     And thogh I take a bok on honde,     Mi contienance is on the bok,     Bot toward hire is al my lok;     And if so falle that I preie     Unto mi god, and somwhat seie     Of Paternoster or of Crede,     Al is for that I wolde spede,     7120     So that mi bede in holi cherche     Ther mihte som miracle werche     Mi ladi herte forto chaunge,     Which evere hath be to me so strange.     So that al mi devocion     And al mi contemplacion     With al min herte and mi corage     Is only set on hire ymage;     And evere I waite upon the tyde.     If sche loke eny thing asyde,     7130     That I me mai of hire avise,     Anon I am with covoitise     So smite, that me were lief     To ben in holi cherche a thief;     Bot noght to stele a vestement,     For that is nothing mi talent,     Bot I wold stele, if that I mihte,     A glad word or a goodly syhte;     And evere mi service I profre,     And namly whan sche wol gon offre,        7140     For thanne I lede hire, if I may,     For somwhat wolde I stele away.     Whan I beclippe hire on the wast,     Yit ate leste I stele a tast,     And otherwhile "grant mercy"     Sche seith, and so winne I therby     A lusti touch, a good word eke,     Bot al the remenant to seke     Is fro mi pourpos wonder ferr.     So mai I seie, as I seide er,     7150     In holy cherche if that I wowe,     My conscience it wolde allowe,     Be so that up amendement     I mihte gete assignement     Wher forto spede in other place:     Such Sacrilege I holde a grace.     And thus, mi fader, soth to seie,     In cherche riht as in the weie,     If I mihte oght of love take,     Such hansell have I noght forsake.        7160     Bot finali I me confesse,     Ther is in me non holinesse,     Whil I hire se in eny stede;     And yit, for oght that evere I dede,     No Sacrilege of hire I tok,     Bot if it were of word or lok,     Or elles if that I hir fredde,     Whan I toward offringe hir ledde,     Take therof what I take may,     For elles bere I noght away:        7170     For thogh I wolde oght elles have,     Alle othre thinges ben so save     And kept with such a privilege,     That I mai do no Sacrilege.     God wot mi wille natheles,     Thogh I mot nedes kepe pes     And malgre myn so let it passe,     Mi will therto is noght the lasse,     If I mihte other wise aweie.     Forthi, mi fader, I you preie,    7180     Tell what you thenketh therupon,     If I therof have gult or non.     Thi will, mi Sone, is forto blame,     The remenant is bot a game,     That I have herd the telle as yit.     Bot tak this lore into thi wit,     That alle thing hath time and stede,     The cherche serveth for the bede,     The chambre is of an other speche.     Bot if thou wistest of the wreche,        7190     Hou Sacrilege it hath aboght,     Thou woldest betre ben bethoght;     And for thou schalt the more amende,     A tale I wole on the despende.     To alle men, as who seith, knowe     It is, and in the world thurgh blowe,     Hou that of Troie Lamedon     To Hercules and to Jasoun,     Whan toward Colchos out of Grece     Be See sailende upon a piece        7200     Of lond of Troie reste preide,-     Bot he hem wrathfulli congeide:     And for thei founde him so vilein,     Whan thei come into Grece ayein,     With pouer that thei gete myhte     Towardes Troie thei hem dyhte,     And ther thei token such vengance,     Wherof stant yit the remembrance;     For thei destruide king and al,     And leften bot the brente wal.    7210     The Grecs of Troiens many slowe     And prisoners thei toke ynowe,     Among the whiche ther was on,     The kinges doughter Lamedon,     Esiona, that faire thing,     Which unto Thelamon the king     Be Hercules and be thassent     Of al the hole parlement     Was at his wille yove and granted.     And thus hath Grece Troie danted,    7220     And hom thei torne in such manere:     Bot after this nou schalt thou hiere     The cause why this tale I telle,     Upon the chances that befelle.     King Lamedon, which deide thus,     He hadde a Sone, on Priamus,     Which was noght thilke time at hom:     Bot whan he herde of this, he com,     And fond hou the Cite was falle,     Which he began anon to walle        7230     And made ther a cite newe,     That thei whiche othre londes knewe     Tho seiden, that of lym and Ston     In al the world so fair was non.     And on that o side of the toun     The king let maken Ylioun,     That hihe Tour, that stronge place,     Which was adrad of no manace     Of quarel nor of non engin;     And thogh men wolde make a Myn,        7240     No mannes craft it mihte aproche,     For it was sett upon a roche.     The walles of the toun aboute,     Hem stod of al the world no doute,     And after the proporcion     Sex gates weren of the toun     Of such a forme, of such entaile,     That hem to se was gret mervaile:     The diches weren brode and depe,     A fewe men it mihte kepe    7250     From al the world, as semeth tho,     Bot if the goddes weren fo.     Gret presse unto that cite drouh,     So that ther was of poeple ynouh,     Of Burgeis that therinne duellen;     Ther mai no mannes tunge tellen     Hou that cite was riche of good.     Whan al was mad and al wel stod,     King Priamus tho him bethoghte     What thei of Grece whilom wroghte,        7260     And what was of her swerd devoured,     And hou his Soster deshonoured     With Thelamon awey was lad:     And so thenkende he wax unglad,     And sette anon a parlement,     To which the lordes were assent.     In many a wise ther was spoke,     Hou that thei mihten ben awroke,     Bot ate laste natheles     Thei seiden alle, "Acord and pes."        7270     To setten either part in reste     It thoghte hem thanne for the beste     With resonable amendement;     And thus was Anthenor forth sent     To axe Esionam ayein     And witen what thei wolden sein.     So passeth he the See be barge     To Grece forto seie his charge,     The which he seide redely     Unto the lordes by and by:     7280     Bot where he spak in Grece aboute,     He herde noght bot wordes stoute,     And nameliche of Thelamon;     The maiden wolde he noght forgon,     He seide, for no maner thing,     And bad him gon hom to his king,     For there gat he non amende     For oght he couthe do or sende.     This Anthenor ayein goth hom     Unto his king, and whan he com,        7290     He tolde in Grece of that he herde,     And hou that Thelamon ansuerde,     And hou thei were at here above,     That thei wol nouther pes ne love,     Bot every man schal don his beste.     Bot for men sein that nyht hath reste,     The king bethoghte him al that nyht,     And erli, whan the dai was lyht,     He tok conseil of this matiere;     And thei acorde in this manere,        7300     That he withouten eny lette     A certein time scholde sette     Of Parlement to ben avised:     And in the wise it was devised,     Of parlement he sette a day,     And that was in the Monthe of Maii.     This Priamus hadde in his yhte     A wif, and Hecuba sche hyhte,     Be whom that time ek hadde he     Of Sones fyve, and douhtres thre     7310     Besiden hem, and thritty mo,     And weren knyhtes alle tho,     Bot noght upon his wif begete,     Bot elles where he myhte hem gete     Of wommen whiche he hadde knowe;     Such was the world at thilke throwe:     So that he was of children riche,     As therof was noman his liche.     Of Parlement the dai was come,     Ther ben the lordes alle and some;        7320     Tho was pronounced and pourposed,     And al the cause hem was desclosed,     Hou Anthenor in Grece ferde.     Thei seten alle stille and herde,     And tho spak every man aboute:     Ther was alegged many a doute,     And many a proud word spoke also;     Bot for the moste part as tho     Thei wisten noght what was the beste,     Or forto werre or forto reste.    7330     Bot he that was withoute fere,     Hector, among the lordes there     His tale tolde in such a wise,     And seide, "Lordes, ye ben wise,     Ye knowen this als wel as I,     Above all othre most worthi     Stant nou in Grece the manhode     Of worthinesse and of knihthode;     For who so wole it wel agrope,     To hem belongeth al Europe,    7340     Which is the thridde parti evene     Of al the world under the hevene;     And we be bot of folk a fewe.     So were it reson forto schewe     The peril, er we falle thrinne:     Betre is to leve, than beginne     Thing which as mai noght ben achieved;     He is noght wys that fint him grieved,     And doth so that his grief be more;     For who that loketh al tofore     7350     And wol noght se what is behinde,     He mai fulofte hise harmes finde:     Wicke is to stryve and have the worse.     We have encheson forto corse,     This wot I wel, and forto hate     The Greks; bot er that we debate     With hem that ben of such a myht,     It is ful good that every wiht     Be of himself riht wel bethoght.     Bot as for me this seie I noght;     7360     For while that mi lif wol stonde,     If that ye taken werre on honde,     Falle it to beste or to the werste,     I schal miselven be the ferste     To grieven hem, what evere I may.     I wol noght ones seie nay     To thing which that youre conseil demeth,     For unto me wel more it quemeth     The werre certes than the pes;     Bot this I seie natheles,        7370     As me belongeth forto seie.     Nou schape ye the beste weie."     Whan Hector hath seid his avis,     Next after him tho spak Paris,     Which was his brother, and alleide     What him best thoghte, and thus he seide:     "Strong thing it is to soffre wrong,     And suffre schame is more strong,     Bot we have suffred bothe tuo;     And for al that yit have we do    7380     What so we mihte to reforme     The pes, whan we in such a forme     Sente Anthenor, as ye wel knowe.     And thei here grete wordes blowe     Upon her wrongful dedes eke;     And who that wole himself noght meke     To pes, and list no reson take,     Men sein reson him wol forsake:     For in the multitude of men     Is noght the strengthe, for with ten    7390     It hath be sen in trew querele     Ayein an hundred false dele,     And had the betre of goddes grace.     This hath befalle in many place;     And if it like unto you alle,     I wolde assaie, hou so it falle,     Oure enemis if I mai grieve;     For I have cawht a gret believe     Upon a point I wol declare.     This ender day, as I gan fare     7400     To hunte unto the grete hert,     Which was tofore myn houndes stert,     And every man went on his syde     Him to poursuie, and I to ryde     Began the chace, and soth to seie,     Withinne a while out of mi weie     I rod, and nyste where I was.     And slep me cauhte, and on the gras     Beside a welle I lay me doun     To slepe, and in a visioun     7410     To me the god Mercurie cam;     Goddesses thre with him he nam,     Minerve, Venus and Juno,     And in his hond an Appel tho     He hield of gold with lettres write:     And this he dede me to wite,     Hou that thei putt hem upon me,     That to the faireste of hem thre     Of gold that Appel scholde I yive.     With ech of hem tho was I schrive,        7420     And echon faire me behihte;     Bot Venus seide, if that sche mihte     That Appel of mi yifte gete,     Sche wolde it neveremor foryete,     And seide hou that in Grece lond     Sche wolde bringe unto myn hond     Of al this Erthe the faireste;     So that me thoghte it for the beste,     To hire and yaf that Appel tho.     Thus hope I wel, if that I go,    7430     That sche for me wol so ordeine,     That thei matiere forto pleigne     Schul have, er that I come ayein.     Nou have ye herd that I wol sein:     Sey ye what stant in youre avis."     And every man tho seide his,     And sundri causes thei recorde,     Bot ate laste thei acorde     That Paris schal to Grece wende,     And thus the parlement tok ende.     7440     Cassandra, whan sche herde of this,     The which to Paris Soster is,     Anon sche gan to wepe and weile,     And seide, "Allas, what mai ous eile?     Fortune with hire blinde whiel     Ne wol noght lete ous stonde wel:     For this I dar wel undertake,     That if Paris his weie take,     As it is seid that he schal do,     We ben for evere thanne undo."    7450     This, which Cassandre thanne hihte,     In al the world as it berth sihte,     In bokes as men finde write,     Is that Sibille of whom ye wite,     That alle men yit clepen sage.     Whan that sche wiste of this viage,     Hou Paris schal to Grece fare,     No womman mihte worse fare     Ne sorwe more than sche dede;     And riht so in the same stede     7460     Ferde Helenus, which was hir brother,     Of prophecie and such an other:     And al was holde bot a jape,     So that the pourpos which was schape,     Or were hem lief or were hem loth,     Was holde, and into Grece goth     This Paris with his retenance.     And as it fell upon his chance,     Of Grece he londeth in an yle,     And him was told the same whyle        7470     Of folk which he began to freyne,     Tho was in thyle queene Heleyne,     And ek of contres there aboute     Of ladis many a lusti route,     With mochel worthi poeple also.     And why thei comen theder tho,     The cause stod in such a wise,-     For worschipe and for sacrifise     That thei to Venus wolden make,     As thei tofore hadde undertake,        7480     Some of good will, some of beheste,     For thanne was hire hihe feste     Withinne a temple which was there.     Whan Paris wiste what thei were,     Anon he schop his ordinance     To gon and don his obeissance     To Venus on hire holi day,     And dede upon his beste aray.     With gret richesse he him behongeth,     As it to such a lord belongeth,        7490     He was noght armed natheles,     Bot as it were in lond of pes,     And thus he goth forth out of Schipe     And takth with him his felaschipe:     In such manere as I you seie     Unto the temple he hield his weie.     Tydinge, which goth overal     To grete and smale, forth withal     Com to the queenes Ere and tolde     Hou Paris com, and that he wolde     7500     Do sacrifise to Venus:     And whan sche herde telle thus,     Sche thoghte, hou that it evere be,     That sche wole him abyde and se.     Forth comth Paris with glad visage     Into the temple on pelrinage,     Wher unto Venus the goddesse     He yifth and offreth gret richesse,     And preith hir that he preie wolde.     And thanne aside he gan beholde,     7510     And sih wher that this ladi stod;     And he forth in his freisshe mod     Goth ther sche was and made her chiere,     As he wel couthe in his manere,     That of his wordes such plesance     Sche tok, that al hire aqueintance,     Als ferforth as the herte lay,     He stal er that he wente away.     So goth he forth and tok his leve,     And thoghte, anon as it was eve,     7520     He wolde don his Sacrilegge,     That many a man it scholde abegge.     Whan he to Schipe ayein was come,     To him he hath his conseil nome,     And al devised the matiere     In such a wise as thou schalt hiere.     Withinne nyht al prively     His men he warneth by and by,     That thei be redy armed sone     For certein thing which was to done:    7530     And thei anon ben redi alle,     And ech on other gan to calle,     And went hem out upon the stronde     And tok a pourpos ther alonde     Of what thing that thei wolden do,     Toward the temple and forth thei go.     So fell it, of devocion     Heleine in contemplacion     With many an other worthi wiht     Was in the temple and wok al nyht,        7540     To bidde and preie unto thymage     Of Venus, as was thanne usage;     So that Paris riht as him liste     Into the temple, er thei it wiste,     Com with his men al sodeinly,     And alle at ones sette ascry     In hem whiche in the temple were,     For tho was mochel poeple there;     Bot of defense was no bote,     So soffren thei that soffre mote.    7550     Paris unto the queene wente,     And hire in bothe hise armes hente     With him and with his felaschipe,     And forth thei bere hire unto Schipe.     Up goth the Seil and forth thei wente,     And such a wynd fortune hem sente,     Til thei the havene of Troie cauhte;     Where out of Schipe anon thei strauhte     And gon hem forth toward the toun,     The which cam with processioun    7560     Ayein Paris to sen his preie.     And every man began to seie     To Paris and his felaschipe     Al that thei couthen of worschipe;     Was non so litel man in Troie,     That he ne made merthe and joie     Of that Paris hath wonne Heleine.     Bot al that merthe is sorwe and peine     To Helenus and to Cassaundre;     For thei it token schame and sklaundre     7570     And lost of al the comun grace,     That Paris out of holi place     Be Stelthe hath take a mannes wif,     Wherof that he schal lese his lif     And many a worthi man therto,     And al the Cite be fordo,     Which nevere schal be mad ayein.     And so it fell, riht as thei sein,     The Sacrilege which he wroghte     Was cause why the Gregois soughte    7580     Unto the toun and it beleie,     And wolden nevere parte aweie,     Til what be sleihte and what be strengthe     Thei hadde it wonne in brede and lengthe,     And brent and slayn that was withinne.     Now se, mi Sone, which a sinne     Is Sacrilege in holy stede:     Be war therfore and bidd thi bede,     And do nothing in holy cherche,     Bot that thou miht be reson werche.     7590     And ek tak hiede of Achilles,     Whan he unto his love ches     Polixena, that was also     In holi temple of Appollo,     Which was the cause why he dyde     And al his lust was leyd asyde.     And Troilus upon Criseide     Also his ferste love leide     In holi place, and hou it ferde,     As who seith, al the world it herde;    7600     Forsake he was for Diomede,     Such was of love his laste mede.     Forthi, mi Sone, I wolde rede,     Be this ensample as thou myht rede,     Sech elles, wher thou wolt, thi grace,     And war the wel in holi place     What thou to love do or speke,     In aunter if it so be wreke     As thou hast herd me told before.     And tak good hiede also therfore     7610     Upon what forme, of Avarice     Mor than of eny other vice,     I have divided in parties     The branches, whiche of compainies     Thurghout the world in general     Ben nou the leders overal,     Of Covoitise and of Perjure,     Of fals brocage and of Usure,     Of Skarsnesse and Unkindeschipe,     Which nevere drouh to felaschipe,    7620     Of Robberie and privi Stelthe,     Which don is for the worldes welthe,     Of Ravine and of Sacrilegge,     Which makth the conscience agregge;     Althogh it mai richesse atteigne,     It floureth, bot it schal noght greine     Unto the fruit of rihtwisnesse.     Bot who that wolde do largesse     Upon the reule as it is yive,     So myhte a man in trouthe live    7630     Toward his god, and ek also     Toward the world, for bothe tuo     Largesse awaiteth as belongeth,     To neither part that he ne wrongeth;     He kepth himself, he kepth his frendes,     So stant he sauf to bothe hise endes,     That he excedeth no mesure,     So wel he can himself mesure:     Wherof, mi Sone, thou schalt wite,     So as the Philosophre hath write.    7640     Betwen the tuo extremites     Of vice stant the propretes     Of vertu, and to prove it so     Tak Avarice and tak also     The vice of Prodegalite;     Betwen hem Liberalite,     Which is the vertu of Largesse,     Stant and governeth his noblesse.     For tho tuo vices in discord     Stonde evere, as I finde of record;     7650     So that betwen here tuo debat     Largesse reuleth his astat.     For in such wise as Avarice,     As I tofore have told the vice,     Thurgh streit holdinge and thurgh skarsnesse     Stant in contraire to Largesse,     Riht so stant Prodegalite     Revers, bot noght in such degre.     For so as Avarice spareth,     And forto kepe his tresor careth,    7660     That other al his oghne and more     Ayein the wise mannes lore     Yifth and despendeth hiere and there,     So that him reccheth nevere where.     While he mai borwe, he wol despende,     Til ate laste he seith, "I wende";     Bot that is spoken al to late,     For thanne is poverte ate gate     And takth him evene be the slieve,     For erst wol he no wisdom lieve.     7670     And riht as Avarice is Sinne,     That wolde his tresor kepe and winne,     Riht so is Prodegalite:     Bot of Largesse in his degre,     Which evene stant betwen the tuo,     The hihe god and man also     The vertu ech of hem commendeth.     For he himselven ferst amendeth,     That overal his name spredeth,     And to alle othre, where it nedeth,     7680     He yifth his good in such a wise,     That he makth many a man arise,     Which elles scholde falle lowe.     Largesce mai noght ben unknowe;     For what lond that he regneth inne,     It mai noght faile forto winne     Thurgh his decerte love and grace,     Wher it schal faile in other place.     And thus betwen tomoche and lyte     Largesce, which is noght to wyte,    7690     Halt evere forth the middel weie:     Bot who that torne wole aweie     Fro that to Prodegalite,     Anon he lest the proprete     Of vertu and goth to the vice;     For in such wise as Avarice     Lest for scarsnesse his goode name,     Riht so that other is to blame,     Which thurgh his wast mesure excedeth,     For noman wot what harm that bredeth.        7700     Bot mochel joie ther betydeth,     Wher that largesse an herte guydeth:     For his mesure is so governed,     That he to bothe partz is lerned,     To god and to the world also,     He doth reson to bothe tuo.     The povere folk of his almesse     Relieved ben in the destresse     Of thurst, of hunger and of cold;     The yifte of him was nevere sold,    7710     Bot frely yive, and natheles     The myhti god of his encress     Rewardeth him of double grace;     The hevene he doth him to pourchace     And yifth him ek the worldes good:     And thus the Cote for the hod     Largesse takth, and yit no Sinne     He doth, hou so that evere he winne.     What man hath hors men yive him hors,     And who non hath of him no fors,     7720     For he mai thanne on fote go;     The world hath evere stonde so.     Bot forto loken of the tweie,     A man to go the siker weie,     Betre is to yive than to take:     With yifte a man mai frendes make,     Bot who that takth or gret or smal,     He takth a charge forth withal,     And stant noght fre til it be quit.     So forto deme in mannes wit,        7730     It helpeth more a man to have     His oghne good, than forto crave     Of othre men and make him bounde,     Wher elles he mai stonde unbounde.     Senec conseileth in this wise,     And seith, "Bot, if thi good suffise     Unto the liking of thi wille,     Withdrawh thi lust and hold the stille,     And be to thi good sufficant."     For that thing is appourtenant    7740     To trouthe and causeth to be fre     After the reule of charite,     Which ferst beginneth of himselve.     For if thou richest othre tuelve,     Wherof thou schalt thiself be povere,     I not what thonk thou miht recovere.     Whil that a man hath good to yive,     With grete routes he mai live     And hath his frendes overal,     And everich of him telle schal.        7750     Therwhile he hath his fulle packe,     Thei seie, "A good felawe is Jacke";     Bot whanne it faileth ate laste,     Anon his pris thei overcaste,     For thanne is ther non other lawe     Bot, "Jacke was a good felawe."     Whan thei him povere and nedy se,     Thei lete him passe and farwel he;     Al that he wende of compainie     Is thanne torned to folie.     7760     Bot nou to speke in other kinde     Of love, a man mai suche finde,     That wher thei come in every route     Thei caste and waste her love aboute,     Til al here time is overgon,     And thanne have thei love non:     For who that loveth overal,     It is no reson that he schal     Of love have eny proprete.     Forthi, mi Sone, avise thee    7770     If thou of love hast be to large,     For such a man is noght to charge:     And if it so be that thou hast     Despended al thi time in wast     And set thi love in sondri place,     Though thou the substance of thi grace     Lese ate laste, it is no wonder;     For he that put himselven under,     As who seith, comun overal,     He lest the love special    7780     Of eny on, if sche be wys;     For love schal noght bere his pris     Be reson, whanne it passeth on.     So have I sen ful many on,     That were of love wel at ese,     Whiche after felle in gret desese     Thurgh wast of love, that thei spente     In sondri places wher thei wente.     Riht so, mi Sone, I axe of thee     If thou with Prodegalite    7790     Hast hier and ther thi love wasted.     Mi fader, nay; bot I have tasted     In many a place as I have go,     And yit love I nevere on of tho,     Bot forto drive forth the dai.     For lieveth wel, myn herte is ay     Withoute mo for everemore     Al upon on, for I nomore     Desire bot hire love al one:     So make I many a prive mone,        7800     For wel I fiele I have despended     Mi longe love and noght amended     Mi sped, for oght I finde yit.     If this be wast to youre wit     Of love, and Prodegalite,     Nou, goode fader, demeth ye:     Bot of o thing I wol me schryve,     That I schal for no love thryve,     Bot if hirself me wol relieve.     Mi Sone, that I mai wel lieve:    7810     And natheles me semeth so,     For oght that thou hast yit misdo     Of time which thou hast despended,     It mai with grace ben amended.     For thing which mai be worth the cost     Per chaunce is nouther wast ne lost;     For what thing stant on aventure,     That can no worldes creature     Telle in certein hou it schal wende,     Til he therof mai sen an ende.    7820     So that I not as yit therfore     If thou, mi Sone, hast wonne or lore:     For ofte time, as it is sene,     Whan Somer hath lost al his grene     And is with Wynter wast and bare,     That him is left nothing to spare,     Al is recovered in a throwe;     The colde wyndes overblowe,     And still be the scharpe schoures,     And soudeinliche ayein his floures    7830     The Somer hapneth and is riche:     And so per cas thi graces liche,     Mi Sone, thogh thou be nou povere     Of love, yit thou miht recovere.     Mi fader, certes grant merci:     Ye have me tawht so redeli,     That evere whil I live schal     The betre I mai be war withal     Of thing which ye have seid er this.     Bot overmore hou that it is,    7840     Toward mi schrifte as it belongeth,     To wite of othre pointz me longeth;     Wherof that ye me wolden teche     With al myn herte I you beseche.     Explicit Liber Quintus.