ouerthrowe And forth withouten ony went Vnto the bell straught he went The fende in to the fyre hym drough where that he had peyne ynough Of flame whiche that euer brenneth And as his eie about renneth Towarde the heuen he cast his loke where that he sygh and hede toke Howe lazar set was in his see Al 's farre as euer he myght see with Abraham and than he prayde Vnto the patriarche and sayd Sende lazar downe fro thylke sete And do that he his fynger wete In water so that he may droppe Vpon my tonge for to stoppe The great hete in whiche I brenne But Abraham answerde then And sayde to hym in this wyse Salomon Qui obturat aures suas ad clamoreÌ„â—â—â—â—â—rum ipse clamabit et non exaudictur ¶ My sonne thou the myght auise And take in to thy remembrance Howe lazar had great penance whyle he was in that other lyfe But thou in all thy lust iolyfe The bodely delices soughtest For thy so as thou than wroughtest Nowe shalte thou take thy rewarde Of deedly peyne here afterwarde In hell whiche shall euer last And this lazar nowe at last This worldes peyne is ouerronne In heuen and hath his lyfe begonne Of ioye whiche is endeles But that thou preydest netheles That I shall lazar to the sende with water on his fynger ende Thyne hote tonge for to kele Thou shalte no suche graces fele For to that foule place of synne For euer in whiche thou shalte be inne Cometh none out of this place thyder Ne none of you may comen hyder Thus be ye parted nowe a two The ryche ayeneward cryde tho O Abraham sythe it so is That lazar may nought do me this whiche I haue axed in this place I wolde pray an other grace For I haue yet bretherne fyue That with my father bene a lyue To gether dwellende in one hous To whom as thou arte gracious I pray that thou woldest sende Lazar so that he myght wende To warne hem how the worlde is went That afterward they be not shent Of suche peynes as they drye Lo this I praye and this I crye Howe I may not my selfe amende The patriarke anone sewende To this prayer answerde Nay And sayde hym howe that euery day His bretherne myght knowe and here Of Moyses on erthe here And of prophettes other mo what hem was best and he sayth no But if there myght a man aryse From deth to lyfe in suche a wyse To tellen hem howe that it were He sayde than of pure fere They shulden well beware therby Quod Abraham nay sikerly For if they nowe wyll not obey To suche as teche hem the wey And all day teache and all day telle Howe that it stant of heuen and helle They wyll not than taken hede Though it befelle so in dede That any deade man were arered To ben of hym no better lered Than of an other man on lyue ¶ If thou my sonne canst descriue This tale as Christe hym selfe it tolde Thou shalt haue cause to beholde To se so great an euidence wherof the sothe experience Hath shewed openlyche at eye That bodely delicacye Of hym whiche yeueth none almesse Shall after falle in great distresse And that was sene vpon the ryche For he ne wolde vnto his lyche A cromme yeuen of his brede Than afterwarde whan he was dede A droppe of water hym was werned Thus may a mans wyt be lerned Of hem that so delytes taken whan they with deth ben ouertaken That erst was swete is than sowre But he that is a gouernour Of worldes ioye if he be wyse within his herte he set no prise Of all the worlde and yet he vseth The good that he nothyng refuseth As he whiche lorde is of the thynges The ouches and the ryche rynges The cloth of golde and the perrye He taketh and yet the delicacye He leueth though he were all this The best mete that there is He eateth and drynketh the best drynke But howe that euer he eate or drynke Delicacie he put aweye As he whiche goth the ryght weye Nought only for to fede and clothe His body but his soule bothe But they that taken other wyse Her lustes bene none of the wyse But nowe a day a man may se The worlde so full of vanite That no man taketh of reason hede Or for to clothe or for to fede But all is set vnto the vice To newe and changen his delice And ryght so chaungeth his astate He that of loue is delicate For though he had to his honde The best wyfe of all the londe Or the fayrest loue of all yet wolde his herte on other fall And thynke hem more delicious Than he hath in his owne hous Men seyne it is nowe ofte so Auyse hem well they that so do And for to speke in other waye Full ofte tyme I haue herde saye That he whiche hath no loue acheued Hym thynketh that he is not relieued Though that his lady make hym chere So as she may in good manere Hir honour and hir name saue But he the surplus myght haue Nothynge withstandynge hir astate Of loue more delicate He set hir chere at no delyte But if he haue all his appetyte My sonne if it with the be so Tell me ¶ Myn holy father no For delycate in suche a wyse Of loue as ye to me deuise Ne was I neuer yet gyltyfe For if I had suche a wyfe As ye speke of what shulde I more For than I wolde neuer more For lust of any womanhede My herte vpon none other fede And if I dyd it were a waste But all without suche repaste Of lust as ye me tolde aboue Of wyfe or yet of other loue I faste and may no fode gete So that for lacke of deintie mete Of whiche an herte may be fedde I go fastynge to my bedde But myght I getten as ye tolde So mochel that my lady wolde Me fede with her gladde semblaunte Though me lacke all the remenaunt yet shulde I somdele ben abeched And for the time wel refreshed But certes fader she ne doth For in good feyth to tellen soth I trowe though I shulde sterue She wolde not her eye swerue My herte with one goodly loke To fede and thus for suche a coke I may go fastinge euermo But if so is that any wo May fede a mans herte we le Therof I haue at euery mele Of plente more that ynough But that is of hym selfe so tough My stomake may it not defye Lo suche is the delycacye Of loue whiche my herte fedeth Thus haue I lacke of that me nedeth But for all this yet netheles I say not I am gylteles That I somdele am delycate For els were I fully mate But if that I some lusty stounde Of comforte and of ease founde To take of loue some repast For though I with full taste The lust of loue may not fele Myn honger otherwyse I kele Of smale lustes whiche I pyke And for
was a sory felaushyp For this thou myght wel vnderstonde That man may welle not longe stonde whiche is wine dronke of co men vse For he hath lore the vertues wherof reason shuld hym doth And that was sen vpon hem both Men seyn there his no euydence wherof to knowe a difference Betwene the dronken and the wode For they be neuer nother good For where that wyne doth wyt a weye wysdome hath lost the ryght weye That he no maner vyce dredeth No more than a blynd man thredeth His nedel by the sonne lyght No more is reason than of myght whan be with dronkeshyp is blent And in this poynt they weren shent This Galba both and eke Vytelle Vpon the cause as I shall tell wherof good is to take hede For they two through her dronkenhede Of witles excitation Oppressed all the nacion Of Spayne for all foule vsaunce whiche done was of continuaunce Of hem whiche all day dronke were There was no wyfe ne mayden there what so they were or fayre or foule whom they ne taken to defoule wherof the londe was often wo And eke in other thynges mo They wroughten many a sondry wroÌ„ge But howe so that the day be longe The derke nyght cometh at last God wolde nought they shulden last And shope the lawe in suche a wyse That they through dome to the Iuyse Bâ— damned for to be forlore But they that had be tofore Eâ—â—lyned to all dronkenesse Her ende than bare wytnesse For they in hope to asswage The peyne of dethe vpon the rage That they lasse shulden fele Of wyne let fyll full a meele And dronken tyll so was befell That they her strengthes losen all withouten wyt of ony brayne And thus they ben halfe deed slayne That hem ne greueth but a lite ¶ My sonne if thou be for to wite In ony poynt whiche I haue sayde wherof thy wyttes bene vnteyde I rede clepe hem home ageyne ¶ I shall do father as ye seyne Al 's ferforth as I may suffise But well I wote that in no wyse The dronkeshyp of loue aweye I may remue by no weye It stant nought vpon my fortune But if you lyst to coÌ„mune Of the seconde glotonye whiche cleped is delicacye wherof ye spake here to fore Beseche I wolde you therfore ¶ My sonne as of that ylke vice whiche of all other is the noryce And stant vpon the retenue Of Venus so as it is due The properte howe that it fareth The boke herafter nowe declareth Deliciae cum diuiciis sunt iura potentum In quibus orta Venus excitat ora gulae Non sunt deliciae tales que corpora pascunt Ex quibus impletus gaudia uenter agit Qui completus amor maiori munere gaudet Cum data deliciis mens in aman te fatur ☞ HIC tractat super illa specie gule que delicatia nuncupatur cuius mollicies volupiuose carni personis precipue potentibus queque compla centia corporaliter ministrat ¶ Of this chapter in whiche we trete There is yet one of suche dyete To whiche no pore may attayne For all is past as payndemayne And sondry wyne and sondry drynke wherof that he woll eate and drynke His cookes ben for hym affayted So that his body is awayted That hym shall lacke no delyte Al 's ferforth as his appetite Suffyseth to the meates hote wherof the lusty vice is hote Of Gule the delycacye whiche all the holle progenye Of lusty folke hath vndertake To fede whyle that he may take Rychesse wherof to be founde Of abstinence he wote no bounde To what profyte it shulde serue And yet phisyke of his conserue Maketh many a restrauracion Vnto his recreacion whiche wolde be to Venus lefe Thus for the poynt of his relefe The cooke whiche shal his meate aray But he the better his mouth assay His lordes thonke shall ofte lese Er he be serued to the chese For there may lacke not so lyte That he ne fyut anone a wyte But his lust be fully serued There hath no wight his thonke desued And yet for mans sustenaunce To kepe and holde in gouernance To hym that woll his hele gete Is none so good as comon mete For who that loketh on the bokes It seyth confection of Cookes A man hym shulde well auyse Howe he it toke and in what wyse For who that vseth that he knoweth Full selden sikenes on hym groweth And who that vseth metes straunge Though his nature empayre chaunge It is no wonder lyefe sonne whan that he doth ayene his wonne For in sikenes this I fynde Vsage is the seconde kynde In loue al 's well as other wey For as these holy bokes sey The bodely delyces all In euery poynt howe so they fall Vnto the soule done greuance And for to take in remembrance A tale accordant vnto this whiche of great vnderstanding is To mans soule reasonable I thynke tell and is no fable ¶ HIC PONIT EXEMPLVM contra iftos delicatos et narrat de diuite et Lazaro quorum gefta in euangelio Lucas euidentius describit ¶ Of Christis worde who wol it rede Howe that this vice is for to drede In theuangile it telleth pleyne whiche mote algate be certeyne For Christe hym selfe it bereth wytnesse And though the clerke and the clergesse In laten tonge it rede and synge yet for the more knowlechynge Of trouthe whiche is good to wite I shal declare as it is wriie In englyshe for thus it began ¶ Christe seith there was a ryche man A myghty lorde of great astate And he was eke so delycate Of his clothynge that euery day Of purpre and bysse he made hym gay And ete and dranke therto his fyll After the lustes of his wyll And he whiche all stode in delice And toke none hede of thilke vice And as it shulde so betyde A poure lazer vpon a tyde Came to the gate and axed mete But there myght he nothyng gete His deedly hungre for to staunche For he whiche had his full paunche Of all lustes at borde Ne deyneth not to speke a worde Onlyche a Cromme for to yeue wherof this poure myght leue Vpon the yefte of his almesse Thus lay this poure in great distresse A colde and hongred at the gate For whiche he myght go no gate So was he wofully besene And as these holy bokes seyn The houndes comen fro the haile where that this sycke man was falle And as he lay there for to deye The woundes of his maladye They lycken for to done hym ese But he was full of suche dysese That he may not the deth escape But as it was that tyme shape The sowle fro the body passeth And he whom nothynge ouerpasseth The hygh god vp to the heuen Hym toke where he hath set hym euen In Abrahams barme on hyghe where he the heuens ioye syghe And had all that he haue wold And fell as it befall shulde This ryche man the same throwe with sodeyn deth was
wenyng hath farde by me For whan I wende next haue be As I by my wenyng caste Than was I fortheste at laste And as a foole my bowe vnbende when all was fayled that I wend For thy my fader as of this That my wenynge hath gone amys Touchend to Surquedrye Yeue me my penaunce or I dye But if ye wolde in any forme Of this matter a tale enforme whiche were ayene this vice set I shulde fare well the bet ¶ Hic ponit confessor exemplum contra illos / qui suis viribus presumentes debisiores efficiūtur Et narrat qualiter ille Campaneus miles in armis probatissimus de sua presumens audacia inuocationē ad superos tempore necessitatis ex vecordia tm̄ et non aliter primitus prouenisse asseruit vnde in obsidione ciuitatis Thebarum / cum ipse quodam die coram suis hostibus ad debellandum se obtulit / ignis de ceso subito super veniens ipsū armatil totaliter in cineres cōbussit My sonne in all maner wyse Surquedrye is to despyse wherof I fynde write thus The proud knyght Cāpaneus He was of such Surquedrye That he through his chyualrye Vpon hym selfe so mochel truste That to the goddes hym ne luste In no quarell to beseche But sayde it was an ydell speche whiche cause was of pure drede For lacke of herte and for no nede And vpon suche presumption He helde this proude opinion Tyll at the laste vpon a day About Thebes where be lay whan it of syege was beleyne This knyght as the Cronyke seyne In all mannes syght there whan he was proudest in his gere And thought nothinge might him dere Full armed with his shelde and spere As be the citie wolde assayle God toke hym selfe the batayle Ayenst his pride and fro the sky A fyry thonder sodeynly He sende and hym to poudre smote And thus the pride whiche was hote whan he most in his strength wende was brent and lost withouten ende So that it proueth well therfore The strength of man is sone lore But if that he it well gouerne And ouer this a man may lerne That eke full ofte tyme it greueth what that a man hym selfe beleueth As though it shulde hym well beseme That he all other men can deme And hath foryete his owne vice A tale of them that be so nyce And feynen them selfe to be so wyse I shall the telle in suche a wise wherof thou shalte ensample take That thou no suche thynge vndertake ¶ Hic loquitur confessor contra illos qui de sua scientia presumentes aliorum cōdiciones diuidicantes indiscrete redarguunt / Et narrat exemplum de quodam principe regis Hungarie germano / qui cum fratrem suum pauperibus in publico vidit humiliatum / ipsum redarguendo in contrarium edocere presumabat / sed rex omni sapiencia prepollens / ipsum sic incante presumentem ad humilitatis memoriam teribili prouidentia mitius castigauit ¶ I fynde vpon Surquedry Nowe that whylom of Hungarye By olde dayes was a kynge wyse and honest in all thynge And so befelle vpon a daye And that was in the moneth of May As thylke tyme it was vsaunce This kynge with noble purueyaunce Hath for hym selfe his chare arayed wherin he wolde ryde amayed Out of the citie for to playe with lordes and with great noblay Of lusty folke that were yonge where somme playde and some songe And some gone and some ryde And some prycke her horse asyde And brydlen them nowe in nowe out The kynge his eie cast aboute Tyll he was at laste ware And sawe comynge ageyne his chare Two pylgremes of so great age That lyke vnto a drye image That weren pale and fade hewed And as a busshe whiche is besnewed Theyr berdes weren hore and whyte There was of kynde but a lyte That they ne semen fully deade They come to the kynge and bede Some of his good pur charite And he with great humilyte Out of his chare to grounde lepte And them in both his armes kepte And kyst them both foote and honde Before the lordes of his londe And yafe them of his good therto And whan he hath this dede do He goth into his chare ageyne Tho was murmour tho was disdeyne Tho was complaynt on euery syde They sayden of their owne pryde Echone tyll other what is this Our kynge hath do this thinge amysse So to abesse his royaltie That euery man it myght se And humbled hym in suche a wyse To them that were of none empryse Thus was it spoken to and fro Of them that were with hym tho All priuely behynde his backe But to hym selfe no man spake The kynges brother in presence was thylke tyme and great offence He toke therof and was the same Aboue all other whiche moste blame Vpon his lyege lorde hath leyde And hath vnto the lordes seyde Anone as be may tyme fynde There shall nothynge be lefte behynde That he woll speke vnto the kynge Now lyste what felle vpon this thyng They were mery and fayre ynough Echone with other playde and lough And fellen in to tales newe Nowe that the fresshe floures grewe And howe the grene leaues spronge And howe that loue amonge the yonge Beganne the hertes than wake And euery byrde hathe chose his make And thus the Mays day to th ende They lede and home ayene they wende The kynge was not so sone come That whan he had his chambre nome His brother ne was redye there And brought a tale vnto his eare Of that he dyd suche ashame In hyndrynge of his owne name whan he hym selfe so wolde dretche That to so vyle a powre wretche Hym deyneth shewe suche symplesse Agaynst the state of his noblesse And sayth he shall it no more vse And that he mote hym selfe excuse Towarde his lordes euerychone The kynge stode styll as any stone And to his tale an eare he layde And thought more than he sayde But netheles to that he herde well curtoysly the kynge aunswerde And tolde it shulde ben amended And thus whan that their tale is ended All redy was the borde and clothe The kynge vnto his souper goth Amonge the lordes to the halle And whan they hadden souped all They token leue and forth they go The kynge bethought hym selfe tho Howe he his brother may chastie That he through his surquedrye Toke vpon honde and to dispreyse Humilite whiche is to preyse And thervpon yafe suche counseyle Towarde his king / whiche was vnheyle wherof to be the better lered He thinketh to maken hym afered It felle so that in thylke dawe There was ordeyned by the lawe A Trompe with a sterne breath whiche was cleped the trompe of deth And in the Court where the kyng was A certeyne man this trompe of brasse Hath in kepynge and therof serueth That whan a lorde his dethe deserueth He shall this dredefull trompe blowe Tofore his gate and make it knowe Howe that the iugement
is yeue Of deathe whiche shall not be foryeue The kynge whan it was nyght anone This man assent and bad hym gone To trompen at his brothers gate And he whiche mote done algate Goth forth and doth the kynges beste This lorde whiche herde of this tempest That he tofore his gate blewe Tho wyst he by the lawe and knewe That he was sekerly deade And as of helpe he wyst no rede But sende for his frendes all And tolde them howe it is befalle And they hym aske cause why But he the sothe not for thy Ne wyst and there was sorowe tho For it stode thylke tyme so This trompe was of suche sentence That there ayene no resystence They coude ordeyne by no weye That he ne mote algate deye But if so that he may purchace To gette his lyege lordes grace Their wyttes thervpon they cast And ben appoynted at last This lorde a worthy lady had Vnto his wyfe whiche also drad Her lordes death and children fyue Betwene hem two they had aliue That weren yonge and tender of age And of stature and of visage Ryght faire and lusty on to se Tho casten they that he and she Forthe with theyr childre on the morowe As they that were full of sorowe All naked but of smocke and sherte To tendre with the kynges herte His grace shulde go to seche And pardon of the deathe beseche Thus passen they that wofull nyght And erly whan they sawe it lyght They gone them forth in suche a wise As thou tofore hast herde diuyse All naked but their shertes one They wepte and made moche mone Their here hanged about their eares with sobbynge and with sory teares This lorde goth then an humble pas That whilom proude and noble was wherof the citie sore a flyght Of them that sawen thylke syght And nethelesse all openly with suche wepyng and with suche cry Forth with his children / and his wyfe He goth to praye for his lyfe Vnto the courte whan they be come And men therin haue hyed nome There was no wyght if he them sye From water myght kepe his eye For sorowe whiche they maden tho The kynge supposeth of this wo And feyneth as he nought ne wyst But netheles at his vpryste Men tolde hym howe it ferde And whan that he this wonder herde In hast he goth in to the halle And all at ones downe they falle If any pite may be founde The king which seeth theÌ„ go to grouÌ„de Hath asked them what is the fere why they be so dispoyled there His brother sayde A lorde mercy I wote none other cause why But onely that this night full late The trompe of deathe was at my gate In token that I shulde dye Thus we be come for to preye That ye my worldes deathe respyte Ha foole howe thou art for to wyte The kynge vnto his brother saide That thou arte of so lytell frayde That onely for a trompes sowne Hath gone dispoiled through the town Thou and thy wyfe in suche manere Forthe with thy children that ben here In syght of all men aboute For that thou sayst thou art in doubt Of death whiche stant vnder the lawe Of man and man may it withdrawe So that it may perchaunce fayle Nowe shalt thou not for thy meruayle That I downe from my chare alyght whan I behelde to fore my syght In them that were of so great age Myn owne dethe through their ymage whiche god hath set by lawe of kynde wherof I may no bote fynde For well I wote suche as they be Ryght suche am I in my degree Of flesshe and bloud and so shall dey And thus though I that lawe obeye Of whiche that kynges be put vnder It ought be well the lesse wonder Than thou whiche arte without nede For lawe of londe in suche a drede whiche for to accompte is but a iape As thing which thou myght ouerscape For thy my brother after this I rede that sethen that so is That thou canst drede a man so sore Drede god with all thyn herte more For all shall dye and all shall passe As well a lyon as an asse As well a begger as a lorde Towardes deathe in one accorde They shall stonde and in this wyse The kynge with his wordes wyse His brother taught and all foryeue Confessor For thy my sonne if thou wolt lyue In vertue thou must vice eschewe And with lowe herte humblesse sewe So that thou be not surquedous Amans My father I am amorous wherof I wolde you beseche That ye me by some waye teache whiche myght in loues cause stonde Confessor My sonne thou shalte vnderstonde In loue and other thynges all If that surquedry falle It may to hym not well betyde whiche vseth thylke vice of pride whiche tourneth wysedome to wenyng And sothfastnes into lesynge Through foule imagination And for thyn enformation That thou this vice as I the rede Eschewe shalte a tale I rede whiche felle whylom by dayes olde So as the clerke Ouide tolde ¶ Hic in speciali tractat Confessor cum Amante contra illos / qui de propria formositate presumentes amorem multeris dedignaÌ„tur Et narrat exemplum / qualiter cuiusdam principis filius 〈◊〉 mine Narcissus estino tempore / cum ipse venationis causa quendam ce ruum solus cum suis canibus exagitaret in grauem sitim incurrens necessitate coÌ„pulsus ad bibenduÌ„ de quodam fonte 〈◊〉 inclinquit vbi ipse faciem suaÌ„ pulchei rimam in aqua percipiens putabat se per hoc illaÌ„ Nâ—â—â—ham / quam poete Echo vocant in flumine â—â—â—am suis oculis conspexisse / de cuius amore 〈…〉 laqueatus / vt ipsaÌ„ ad se de fonte ex◠〈◊〉 pluribus blandicus adulabatur / sed cuÌ„ 〈◊〉 nâ—â—â—â—tenus perficere potuit pre nimio lanâ— deficiens contra lapides ibidem adiacen◠〈◊〉 exuerberans cerebrum effudit There was whylom a lordes sonne whiche of his pryde a vice wonne Hath caught that worthy to his lyche As sechen all the worldes ryche There was no woman for to loue So hygh he set hym selfe aboue Of stature and of beaute bothe That hym thought all women lothe 〈◊〉 was there no comparyson As towarde his condition This yonge lorde Narcissus hyght No strength of loue bowe myght His herte whiche is vnafyled 〈◊〉 at laste he was begyled 〈◊〉 of the goddes purueyaunce 〈◊〉 telle hym on a day perchaunce That he in all his proude fare Vnto the forest gan to fare Amonge other that there were To hunt and disporte hym there And whan he came in to the place where that he wolde make his chace The houndes were within a throwe Vncoupled and the bornes blowe The great herte anone was founde with swyfte feete set on the grounde And be with spore in horse syde Hym hasteth faste for to ryde Tyll all men be lefte bebynde And as he rode vnder a lynde Besyde a roche as I the telle He sawe where spronge a lusty welle
you quite My father here hath but a lyte Of waryson and that he wende Had all be lost but nowe amende He may well through your noble grace with that the kynge ryght in his place Anon forthe in that fresshe hete An Erledome whiche than of eschete was late falle in to his honde Vnto this knyght with rent and londe Hath youe and with his chartre sesed And thus was all the noyse appesed This maiden which sate on her knees Tofore the kynges charitees CoÌ„men death and sayth euermore My lyege lorde ryght nowe tofore ye sayde and it is of recorde That if my father were a lorde And pere vnto these other great ye wolden for nought elles lette That I ne shulde be your wyfe And thus wote euery worthy lyfe A kynges worde mote nede be holde For thy my lorde if that ye wolde So great a charite fulfylle God wote it were well my wylle For he whiche was a bachylere My father is nowe made a pere So whense as euer that I cam An erles doughter nowe I am This yonge kynge whiche peised all Her beaute and her wytte withall As he whiche was with loue hente Anone therto yafe his assente He myght not the place asterte That she nys lady of his herte So that he toke her to his wyfe To holde whyle that he hath lyfe And thus the kyng towarde his knight Accordeth hym as it is ryght And ouer this good is to wyte In the cronyke as it is wryte This noble kynge of whom I tolde Of spayne by tho dayes olde The kyngedome had in gouernaunce And as the boke maketh remembrance Alphons was his propre name The knyght also if I shall name Dom Petro hyght and as men telle His doughter wyse Petronelle was cleped whiche was full of grace And that was sene in thylke place where she her father out of tene Hath brought made her selfe a quene Of that she hath so well disclosed The poyntes wherof she was opposed Confessor Lo now my sonne as thou might here Of all this thinge to my mattere But one I take and that is pride To whom no grace may betyde In heuen he felle out of his stede And Paradyse hym was forbede The good men in erthe hym hate So that to belle he mote algate where euery vertue shall be weyued And euery vice be resceyued But Humblesse is all other wyse whiche moost is worth and no reprise It taketh ageyn but softe and fayre If ony thynge stant in contraire with humble speche it is redressed Thus was this yonge mayde blessed The whiche I spake of nowe tofore Her fathers lyfe she gatte therfore And wanne withall the kynges loue For thy my sonne if thou wolt loue It sytte the well to leaue pryde And take Humblesse on thy syde The more of grace thou shalt gete Amans ¶ My father I woll not foryete Of this that ye haue tolde me here And if that any suche manere Of humble porte may loue appaye Here afterwarde I thynke aslay But nowe forthe ouer I beseche That ye more of my shryfte seche Confessor ¶ My good sonne it shall be do Nowe herken and lay an eare to For as touchende of prydes fare Al 's ferforth as I can declare In cause of vice in cause of loue That hast thou playnly herde aboue So that there is no more to saye Touchende of that but other wey Touchende enuye I thynke telle whiche hath the propre kynde of helle without cause to mysdo Towarde hym selfe and other also Here afterwarde as vnderstonde Thou shalte the spices as they stonde Explicit liber primus ¶ Hic in secundo libro tractat de inuidia / et eius speciebus / quarum dolor alterius gaudii prima nuncupatur / cuius conditionem / secundum vitiuÌ„ Confessor primitus describens amanti quatenus amoreÌ„ concernit suê‘ eodeÌ„ coÌ„sequenter opponit ¶ Incipit liber Secundus Inuidiae culpa magis est attrita dolore Nam sua mens nullo tempore laeta manet Quo gaudent alii dolet ille nec vnus amicus Est cui de puro commoda velle facit Proximitatis honor sua corda veretur et omnis Est sibi laetitia sic aliena dolor Hoc etenim uitium quam sepe repugnat amaÌ„ti Non sibi sed reliquis dum fauet ipsa Venus Est amor ex propria motu fantasticus quae Gaudia fert alijs credit obesse sibi NOwe after pride the secoÌ„de There is whiche many a wofull stounde Towardes other bearethe aboute within hym selfe and not without For in his thought he brenneth euer whan that he wote an other leuer Or more vertuos than he whiche passeth hym in his degre Therof he taketh his maladye That vyce is cleped hotte enuy For thy my sonne if it be so Thou arte or hast ben one of tho As for to speke in loues cas If euer yet thyn hert was Sicke of an other mannes bele ¶ So god auaunce my quarele My father ye a thousande syth whan I haue sene another blythe Of loue and hadde a goodly chere Ethna whiche brenneth yere by yere was than nought so hote as I Of thylke sore for whiche priuely Myne hertes thought within brenneth The ship which on the wawes renneth And is forstormed and forblowe Is nat more payned for a throwe Than I am than whan I se Another whiche that passeth me In that fortune of loues yefte But father this I telle in shryfte That no where but in a place For who that lese or fynde grace In other stede it may nought greue But thus ye may ryght well beleue Towarde my lady that I serue Though that I weste for to sterue Myn hert is full of suche foly That I my selfe may not chasty whan I the court se of Cupide Approche vnto my lady syde Of hem that lusty ben and fresshe Though it auayle them not a resshe But onely that they ben of speche My sorowe is than not to seche But whan they rownen in her ere Than groweth all my moste fere And namely whan they talen longe My sorowe than be so stronge Of that I se them well at ease I can not telle my disease But syre as of my lady selue Though she haue wowers .x. or twelue For ne mystruste I haue of her 〈◊〉 greueth nought for certes syr I 〈◊〉 in all this worlde to seche 〈◊〉 woman that in dede and speche 〈◊〉 cetter auyse her what she doth Ne better for to saye a sothe 〈◊〉 her honour at all tyde 〈◊〉 yet gette her a thanke besyde 〈◊〉 â—â—â—theles I am beknowe Thy whan I se at any throwe 〈◊〉 if I may it here That she make any man good chere Though I therof haue not to done My thought woll entermete hym sone For though I be my seluen straunge Enuye maketh myn hert chaunge That I am sorowfully be stade Of that I se another glade with her but of other all Of loue what so may befall Or that he
ten myle enuyroune where as it thought hym for the beste Hath sondry places for to reste And as fortune wolde tho He was dwellend at one of tho The kynge Allee forth with thassent Of Custe his wife hath thyder sent Morice his sonne as he was taught To Themperour and he goth straught And in his father halue he sought As he whiche his lordship sought That of his hygh worthynes He wolde do so great mekenes His owne towne to come and se And yâ—ue a tyme in the cyte So that his fader might hym gete That he wolde ones with hym ete This lorde hath graunted his requeste And whan the day was of the feste In worship of the Emperour The kynge and eke the Senatour Forth with her wynes bothe two with many a lorde and lady mo On hors ryden hym ageyne Tyll it befell vpon a playne They sygh where he was comend with that Constaunce anone preyend Spake to her lorde that he abyde So that I may tofore ryde To ben vpon his bien venu The fyrste whiche shall hym salu And thus after her lordes graunt Vpon a mule white amblaunt Forth with a fewe rode this quene They wondred what she wolde mene And ryden after a softe pas But whan this lady comen was To themperour in his presence She sayde aloude in audience My lorde my father wel you be And of this tyme that I se your honour and your good bele whiche is the helpe of my quarele I thanke vnto the goddes myght For ioye his hert was aflyght Of that she tolde in remembraunce And when he wyste it was Constaunce was neuer father halfe so blythe wepend be kyste her ofte sythe So was his hert all ouercome For though his mother were come Fro deth to lyfe out of the graue He myght no more wonder haue Than he hath whan that he her syghe with that her owne lorde come nyghe And is to themperour obeyed And when the fortune is bewreyed Howe that Constaunce is come aboute So harde an hert was none oute That he for pyte tho ne wepte Arcenius which her fonde and kepte was than gladde of that is falle So that with ioye amonge hem all They ryden in at Rome gate This Emperour thought all to late Tyll that the pope were come And of tho lordes sende some To pray hym that he woll haste And he cam forth in all haste And whan that be this tale herde How wonderly this chaunce ferde He thanked god of his myracle To whose myght may be none abstable The kyng a noble feste hem made And thus they were all gladde A perlement or that they went They setten vnto this entent To put Rome in full espeyre That Moris was apparent heyre And shulde abyde with hem stylle For suche was all the londes wylle ¶ Qualiter Mauricius cum imperatore vâ— heres imperu remansit et rex Affee et Constantia in Angliam regressi sunt ¶ whan euery thynge was fully spoke Of sorowe queynt was all the smoke Tho toke his leue Alle the kynye And with full many a ryche thynge whiche thmperour hym badde yeue He hath a gladde lyfe for to lyue For be constance hath in his honde whiche was the comfort of his londe For whan that he come home ageyne There is no tonge that myght seyne what ioye was that ylke stounde Of that he hath his quene founde whiche fyrst was sent of goddes sonde whan she was dryuen vpon the stronde By whome the mysbileue of synne was lefte and Chrystes feyth came inne To hem that whilome were blynde But he whiche hyndreth euery kynde ¶ Quafiter rex Alle in Anglia post biennium humane carnis resofucionem subiens nature debitum persofuit post cuius obitum Constancia cum patre suo Rome se transtulit moraturam ¶ And for no gold may be forbought The deth comend er he besought Toke with this kynge such acqueyntaÌ„ce That he with all his retenaunce Ne myhht not defende his lyfe And thus he parteth from his wyfe whiche than made sorowe ynoughe And therupon her hert droughe To leue Englond for euer And go where she hadde leuer To Rome whens that she came And thus of all the londe she nam Her leue and goth to Rome ageyne And after that the bokes seyne She was not there but a throwe whan deth of kynde hath ouerthrowe Her worthy father whiche men sayde That betwene her armes deyde And afterward the yere suende The god of her hath made an ende And fro this worldes fayrye Hath take her in to companye ¶ Morys her sonne was coroned whiche so ferforth was abandoned To Christes feyth that men hym calle Morys the chrystnest of all And thus the whele menynge of loue was at last set aboue And so as thou haste herd tofore The fals tunges were lore whiche vpon loue wolde lye For thy touchend of this enuye whiche longeth vnto bakbitynge Be ware thou make no lesynge In hvndrynge of another wyght And if thou wolde be taught aryght what mischyfe bakbitynge doth By other weye a tale soth Nowe myght thou here next sewend whiche to this vyce is acordend ¶ Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos detractores qui in alterius vitupertum mendatia confingentes dissamacionem fieri procurant Et narrat qualiter Perseus Philippi regis Macedonu filius Demetrio fratri suo ob euis probitatem inuidens / composito detractionis mendacio ipsum apud patrem suum mortaliter accusauit dicens ipse non solum patrem / sed et totum Macedonii regnum Romanis hostibus pro ditorie vendidisset quem super hoc in iudicium producens â—testions que indicibus auro subornaâ—â—â— quamvis falsissime morte condempnatum 〈◊〉 quo defuncto eciam et pater infra breue 〈…〉 â—ortuus est Et sic Perseo successiue regnaâ—te deus huiusmodi detractionis inuidiam abâ—â—â—â—â—â—s 〈◊〉 sum cum vniuersa suorum pugnatoruÌ„ 〈…〉 extra Danubii fluuium ab Aemilo 〈◊〉 â—â—norum Consule enentu bellico interâ—â—◠〈…〉 Ita quod ab illo die Macedonii 〈◊〉 penitus destructa Romano Imperio 〈…〉 deseruiuit / et eins detractio / quam 〈◊〉 aâ—ium conspiranerat / in sui ipsius diffama 〈◊〉 pre â—erpetno dinulgata consistit ¶ In a Cronyke as thou shalt wytte A great ensample I fynde wrytte whiche I shall telle vpon this thynge Philyp of Macedony the kynge Two sonnes hadde by his wyfe whose fame yet in Grece is ryfe Demetrius the fyrste brother was hote and Perseus that other Demetrius men sayden tho The better knyght was of the two To whom the londe was attendant As he whiche heyre was apparaunt To regne after his fathers day But that thyng whiche no water may Quenche in this world but euer brenneth In to his broders hert it renneth The proud enuye of that he syghe His brother shulde clyme on hyghe And he to hym mote than obeye That may he suffer by no weye with strength durst he no
subiugaium obtinuit ☞ Eneas eke within Itayle He had he wonne the bataylle And done his myght so besyly Ayene kynge Turne his enemy He hadde nought Lauine wonne But for he hath hym ouer ronne And gat his prys he gat her loue By these ensamples here aboue Lo nowe my sonne as I haue told Thou myght wel se who that is bold And dar trauayle and vndertake The cause of loue he shall be take The rather vnto loues grace For comonlyche in worthy place The women louen worthynesse Of manhode and of gentylnesse For the gentils be most desyred ¶ My fader but I were inspired Through lore of you I wote no weye what gentylnesse is for to seye wherof to telle I you beseche ¶ The grounde my sonne for to seche Vpon this diffinicyon The worldes constitucion Hath set the name of gentylnesse Vpon the fortune of rychesse whiche of longe tyme is falle in age Than is a man of hyghe lynage After the forme as thou shalt here But no thynge after the matere For who that reason vnderstond Vpon rychesse it may not stonde For that is thynge whiche fayleth ofte For he that stant to day alofte And all the worlde hath in his wones To morowe he fallyth all at ones Oute of ryches in to pouerte So that therof is no deserte whiche gentylnesse maketh abyde And for to loke on other syde Howe that a gentylman is bore Adam whiche was all tofore with Eue his wyfe as of hem two All was alyche gentyll tho So that of generacyon To make declaration There may no gentylnes be For to the reason if we se Of mannes byrthe the measure It is so common to nature That it yeueth euery man alyche As well to the poore as to the ryche For naked they ben bore bothe The lorde no more hath for to clothe As of hym that ilke throwe Than hath the poorest of the rowe And whan they shull both passe I not of hem whiche hath the lasse Of worldes good but as of charge The lorde is more for to charge whan god shall his accompte here For he hath had his lustes here But of the body whiche shall deye All though there be dyuers weye To deth yet is there but one ende To whiche that euery man shall wende As well the begger as the lorde Of one nature of one accorde She whiche our olde mother is The erthe bothe that and this Receyueth and alyche deuoureth That she do nouther part fauoureth So were I nothynge after kynde where I may gentylles fynde For lacke of vertue lacketh of grace wherof Rychesse in many place whan men best wene for to stonde All sodeynly goth out of honde But vertue sette in the courage There may no worlde be so saluage whiche myght it take and done away Tyll when that the body deye And than he shall be ryched so That it may fayle neuermo So may that well be gentylâ—â—se whiche yeueth so great a sikernes For after the condicion Of reasonable intencyon The whiche out of the soule groweth And the vertue fro vice knoweth wherof a man the vice escheweth without slouth and vertue seweth That is a very gentyll man And nothynge els whiche he can Ne whiche he hath ne whiche he may But for all that yet nowe a day In loues courte to taken hede The poore vertue shall not spede where that the ryche vice woweth For selde it is that loue alloweth The gentyll man withouten good Though his condition be good But if a man of bothe two Be ryche and vertuous also Than is he well the more worth But yet to put hym selfe forth He must done his besynesse For nother good ne gentylnesse May helpen hem whiche idel be But who that woll in his degre Trauayle so as it belongeth It happeth ofte that he fongeth worshyppe and ease bothe two For euer yet it hath be so That loue honest in sondry wey Profyteth for it dothe aweye The vice and as the bokes seyne It maketh curteys of the vileyne And to the cowarde hardyesse It yeueth so that the very prowesse Is caused vpon loues reule To hym that can manhode reule And eke towarde the womanhede who that therof woll taken hede For though the better affayted be In euery thynge as men may se For loue hath euer his lustes grene In gentyll folke as it is sene whiche thynge there may no kind arest I trowe that there is no beaste If he with loue shulde acqueynt That he ne wolde make it queynt As for the whyle that it laste And thus I conclude at last That they ben ydell as me semeth whiche vnto thynge that loue demeth For slouthen that they shulden do And ouer this my sonne also After the vertue morail eke To speke of loue if I shall seke Amonge the holy bokes wyse I fynde wrytte in suche a wyse ☞ Nota de amore charitatis vbi dicit qui non diliget / manet in morte who loueth not as here is dede For loue aboue all other is hede whiche hath the vertues for to lede Of all that vnto mannes dede Belongeth For of ydelshyp He hateth all the felaushyp For slouthe is euer to despyse whiche in disdeyne hath all appryse And that acordeth nought to man For he that wyt and reason can It syt hym wel that he trauayle VpoÌ„ such thinge whiche myght auayle For ydelshyp is nought comended But euery lawe it hath defended And in ensample thereupon The noble wyse Salomon whiche hadde of euery thynge insyght Seyth As the byrdes to the flyght Ben made so the man is bore To labour whiche is nought forbore To hem that thynken for to thryue For we whiche are nowe a lyue Of hem that besy whylome were As wel in schole as elles where Nowe euery day ensample take That if it were nowe to make Thyng which that they fyrste founden out It shuld not be brought aboute Her lyues than were longe Her wyttes great her myghtes strong Her hertes full of besynesse wherof the worldes redynesse In bopy both and in courage Stant euer vpon his auauntage And for to drawe in to memorye Her names bothe and her historye Vpon the vertu of her dede In sondry bokes thou myght rede Expedit de manibus labor vt de coridianis Actibus ac vita viuere poscit homo Sed qui doctrina causa fert meute labores Praeualet et merita perpetuata parat ☞ Hic loquitur contra ociosos quoscumque et maxime contra istos qui excellentis prudencie ingenium habentes absque fructu operum torpescunt Et ponit exemplum de diligencia predecessorum qui ad tocius humani generis doctrinam et auxiliuÌ„ suis coÌ„tinuis laboribus et studus gracia mediante diuina artes et sciencias primitus inueneruÌ„t ⧠Of euery wysdome the parfyt ♣ The hyghe god of his spyryt yafe to men in erth here Vpon the forme and the mater Of that he wolde make hem wyse And thus cam in the
Hym loueth and he had also A broder whiche was cleped tho Dedalion and he par cas Fro kynde of man forshape was In to a goshauke of lykenes wherof this kynge great heuynesse Hath take and thought in his courage To gone vpon a pylgremage In a strange Regyon where he hath his deuocion To done his sacrifyce and preye If that he myght in any weye Towardes the goddes fynde grace His broders he le to purchace So that he myght be reformed Of that he had ben transformed To this purpose and to this ende This kynge is redy for to wende As he whiche wold go by shyp And for to done hym felauship His wyfe vnto the se hym brought with all her herte and hym besought That he the tyme here wolde seyn whan that he thought come ageyne within he sayth two monethis day And thus in all the haste he may He toke his leue and forth he sayleth wepend and she her selfe bewayleth And torneth home there she cam fro But whan the monethes were ago The whiche he set of his comynge And that she herd no tydynge There was no care for to seche wherof the goddes to beseche Tho she began in many wyse And to Iuno her sacryfyce Aboue all other moste she dede And for her lorde she hath so hede To wytte and knowe howe that he ferd That Iuno the goddes her herde Anone and vpon this matere She hadde Irys her massagyer To Slepes hous that she shal wende And byd hym that he make an ende By sweuen and shewen all the cas Vnto this lady howe it was This Irys fro the hyghe stage whiche vndertake hath the message Her reyny cope dyd vpon The whiche was wonderly begone with colours of dyuers hewe An honderd mo than men it knewe The heuen lyche vnto a bowe She bende and she cam downe lowe The god of slepe where that she fond And that was in a straunge londe whiche marcheth vpon Chimerye For there as seyth the poesye The god of slepe hath made his hous whiche of entaylle is meruaylous Vnder an hylle there is a caue whiche of the sonne may not haue So that no man may knowe aryght The poynt betwene the day and nyght There is no fyre there is no sparke There is no dore whiche may charke wherof an eye shulde vnshet So that inward there is no let And for to speke of that withoute There stant no grete tre nygh aboute wheron there myght crowe or pye A lyght for to clepe or crye There is no cocke to crowe day Ne best none whiche noyse may The hylle but all aboute rounde There is growend vpon the ground Popy whiche bereth the sede of slepe with other herbes suche an hepe A stylle water for the nones Rennend vpon the smal stones whiche hyght of Lethes the ryuer Vnder that hylle in suche maner There is whiche yeueth great appetyte To slepe and thus ful of delyte Slepe hath his hous And of his couch within his chamber if I shall touche Of Hebenus that slepy tre The bordes all aboute be And for he shuld slepe softe Vpon a fether bed alofte He lyeth with many a pylowe of doun The chambre is strowed vp and doun with sweuenes many a thousand fold Thus came Iris in to this holde And to the bed whiche is all blacke She goth and ther with slepe she spake And in this wyse as she was bede The massage of Iuno she dede Full ofte her worde she reherseth Er she his slepy ere 's perseth with mochel wo but at laste His slomerend eyen he vpcast And sayd hyr that it shal be do wherof amonge a thousand tho within his hous that slepy were In specyall he chese oute there Thre whiche shulden do this dede The fyrste of hem so as I rede was Morpheus the whose nature Is for to take the fygure Of that person that hym lyketh wherof that he ful ofte entryketh The lyfe whiche slepe shal by nyght And Ithecus that other hyght whiche hath the voys of euery sonne The chere and the condycioun Of euery lyfe what so it is The thyrd sewend after this Is Panthasas whiche may transforme Of euery thynge the ryght forme And chaunge it in another kynde Vpon hem three so as I fynde Of sweuens stant all thapparence whiche other whyle is euydence And other whyle but a iape But netheles it is so shape That Morpheus by nyght allone Appereth vntyll Alccone In lykenesse of her husbonde Al naked deed vpon the strond And bow he dreynt in specyall These other two it shewen all The tempest of the blacke clowde The wode see the wyndes loude All this she met and seeth hym dyen wherof that she began to cryen Slepend a bedde there she laye And with that noyse of her affraye Her women sterten vp aboute whiche of her lady were in doubte And asken her howe that she ferde And she ryght as she sygh and herde her sweuen hath tolde hem euery dele And they it halsen all we le And seyn it is a token of good But tyl she wyst howe that it stood She hath no comfort in her herte Vpon the morowe and vp she sterte And to these where as she met The body lay withoute lete She drough whā that she cam nygh Starke deed his armes sprade she sigh Her lorde fletende vpon the wawe wherof her wyttes be withdrawe And she whiche toke of deth no kepe Anone forth lepte in to the depe And wold haue caught hym ther arme This infortune of double harme The goddes from the heuen aboue Beheld and for the trouthe of loue whiche in this worthy lady stood They haue vpon the salt flood Her dreynt lorde and her also Fro deth to lyfe torned so That they ben shapen in to bryddes Swymmend vpon the wawe amyddes And whan she sawe her lorde lyuend In lykenesse of a byrde swymende And she was of the same sorte So as she myght do disport Vpon the ioye whiche she hadde Her wynges both abrode she spradde And hym both so as she may suffyse Beclypte and kyste in suche a wyse As she was whylome wont to do Her wynges for her armes tho She toke and for her lyppes softe Her hard bylle and so ful ofte She fondeth in her berdes forme If that she myght her selfe conforme To do the plesaunce of a wyfe As she dyde in that other lyfe For though she hadde her power lore Her wylle stode as it was tofore And serueth hym so as she may wherof in to this ylke daye To geder vpon the see they wone where many a doughter and sonne They bryngen forth of byrdes kynde And for men shulden take in mynde This Alceon the trewe quene Her bryddes yet as it is sene Of Alceon the name bere ¶ Lo thus my sonne it may the stere Of sweuens for to take kepe For oft tyme a man a slepe May se what after shall betyde For thy it helpeth at some tyde A man to slepe as
speke a goodly worde assent And netheles this dare I say That if a synfull wolde preye To god of his foryeuenes with halfe so great a besynesse As I haue do to my lady In lacke of askynge of mercy He shulde neuer come in helle And thus I may you sothly telle Saufe onely that I crie and bydde I am in tristesse all amydde And fulfylled of desperaunce And therof yeue me my penaunce Myn holy father as you lyketh ¶ My sonne of that thyn herte syketh with sorowe myght thou not amende Tyll loue his grace woll the sende For thou thyn owne cause empeirest what tyme as thou thy selfe despeirest I not what other thinge auayleth Of hope whan the herte fayleth For suche a sore is incurable And eke the goddes ben vengeable And that a man may right well frede These olde bokes who so rede Of thinge whiche hath befalle er this Nowe here of what ensample it is ☞ HIC narrat qualiter Iphis / regis Theucer filius eb amorem cuiusdam puelle nomine Araâ—arathen quaÌ„ neque donis aut precibus vinâ—â—â—â—â—tuit / deâ—perans ante patris ipsius puelle 〈◊〉 nectanter se suspendit vnder dii commoti 〈◊〉 â—nellum in lapidem durissimam transmutâ—â—nt quam rex Theucer vna cuÌ„ filio suo apud Sâ—â—â—num in Templo veneris pro perpetua 〈◊〉 morta sepeliri et locari fecit ¶ whylom by olde dayes fer Of Moâ—e was the kynge Theucer whiche had a knyghte to sonne Iphis Of loue and he so maistred is That he hath set all his courage As to regarde of his lygnage Vpon a mayde of lowe estate But though he were a potestate Of worldes good he was subiecte To loue and put in suche a plyte That he excedeth the measure Of reason that hym selfe assure He can nought For the more he praid The lasse loue on hym she layde He was with loue vnwise constreined And she with reason was restreyned The lustes of his herte he seweth And she for drede shame escheweth And as she shulde toke good hede To saue and kepe her womanhede And thus the thinge stode in debate Betwene his lust and her estate He yaue he sende he spake by mouth But yet for ought that euer he couthe Vnto his spede he fonde no weye So that he cast his hope aweye within his hert he gan despeyre Fro day to day and so empeire That he hath lost all his delyte Of lust of slepe of appetyte That he through streÌ„gth of loue lasseth His wyt and reason ouerpasseth As he whiche of his lyfe ne rought His death vpon hym selfe he sought So that by nyght his weye he nam There wyst none where he becam The nyghte was derke there shone no mone Tofore the gates he cam sone where that this yonge mayde was And with this wofull worde alas His deadly pleyntes he began So styll that there was no man It herde and than he sayde thus O thou Cupyde O thou Venus Fortuned by whose ordynaunce Of loue is euery mans chaunce Ye knowen all myn hole hert That I ne may your hondes astert On you is euer that I crie And you deyneth not to plie Ne towarde me your eare enclyne Thus for I se no medicine To make an ende of my quarele My deth shall be in stede of hele Ha thou my wofull lady dere whiche dwellest with thy father here And slepest in thy bedde at ease Thou wotest nothynge of my disease Howe thou and I be nowe vnmete A lorde what sweuen shalt thou mete what dremes hast thou now on honde Thou slepest there and I here stonde Though I no death to the deserue Here shall I for thy loue sterue Here shall I a kynges sonne dye For loue and for no felonye whether thou therof haue ioy or sorow Here shalt thou se me deed to morowe O harde herte abouen alle This death whiche shall to me falle For that thou wolde not do my grace It shall be tolde in many place That I am deed for loue and trouth In thy defaute and in thy slouth Thy daunger shall to many mo Ensample be for euermo when they the wofull death recorde And with that worde he toke a corde with whiche vpon the gate tre He henge him selfe that was pite The morowe cam the nyght is gone Men come out and sygh anone where that this yonge lorde was deed There was an hous without rede For no man knewe the cause why There was wepynge there was cry This mayden whan she it herde And sigh this thinge howe it mysferde Anone she wyst what it ment And all the cause howe it went To all the worlde she tolde it out And preyeth to hem that were aboute To take of her the vengeaunce For she was cause of thilke chaunce why that this kynges sonne is spylt She taketh vpon her selfe the gilt And is all redy to the peyne whiche any man her wolde ordeyne But if any other wolde She saith that her selfe she sholde Do wreche with her owne honde Through out the worlde in euery loÌ„de That euery lyfe therof shall speke Howe she her selfe it shulde wreke She wepeth she cryeth she swouneth ofte She caste her eien vp alofte And sayde amonge full pitously O god thou wost that it am I For whom Iphis is thus beseyne Ordeyne so that men may seyne A thousande wynter after this Howe suche a mayden dyd amys And as I dydde do to me For I ne dydde no pite To hym whiche for my loue is lore Do no pite to me therfore And with this worde she fell to grouÌ„de A swoune and there she laye astounde The goddes which her pleyntes herd And sygh howe wofully she ferde Hir lyfe they toke awey anone And shopen hir into a stone After the forme of hir image Of body both and of visage And for the meruayle of this thynge Vnto the place came the kynge And eke the quene and many mo And whan they wysten it was so As I haue tolde it here aboue Howe that Iphis was deade for loue Of that he had be refused They helden all men excused And wondren vpon the vengeaunce And for to kepe remembraunce This fayre image mayden lyche with company noble and ryche with torches and great solempnite To Salamyne the Citie They leade carie forth withall This deade corps and seyne it shall Besyde thilke image haue His sepulture and be begraue This corps and this image thus In to the citie to Venus where that goddesse her temple had Together bothe two they ladde This ilke image as for myracle was set vpon an hygh pinacle That all men it myght knowe And vnder that they maden lowe A tombe ryche for the nones Of marble and eke of Iaspre stones wherin that Iphis was beloken That euermore it shall be spoken And for men shall the sothe wyte They haue her ephitaphe wryte As thynge whiche shulde abyde stable The letters grauen in a table Of marble were and sayde this Here lyeth whiche
Or of rychesse or of pouerte How so it stande of the deserte Here is nought euery thynge acquite For ofte a man may se this yet That who best doth lest thoÌ„k shal haue It helpeth nought the worlde to craue whiche out of reule and of measure Hath euer stande in auenture As well in courte as els where And howe in olde dayes there It stode so as the thynges felle I thynke a tale for to telle ¶ Hic ponit exemplum contra illos qui in domibus regum sernientes pro eo ê™ ipsi secunduÌ„ eorum cupiditateÌ„ promoti non existunt / de regio seruitio quamuis iÌ„ eoruÌ„ defectu indiscrete murmuraÌ„t ¶ In a cronyke this I rede About a kynge as must nede There was knyghtes and squiers Great route and eke offycers Some of longe tyme hym had serued And thoughteÌ„ that they haue deserued Auauncement and gone without And some also ben of the route That comen but a whyle agone And they auaunced were anone These olde men vpon this thyng So as they durst ageyne the kynge Amonge hem selfe compleynen ofte But there is nothynge sayde so softe That it ne cometh out at last The kynge it wyst anone al 's fast As he whiche was of hygh prudence He shope therfore an euidence Of hem that playnen in the cas To knowe in whose defaute it was And all within his owne entent That no man wyst what it ment Anone be lette two cofres make Of one semblaunce of one make So lyche that no lyfe thilke throwe That one may fro that other knowe They were in to his chaumber brought But no man wote why they be brought And netheles the kynge hath bede That they be sette in preuy stede As he that was of wysedome slygh whan he therto his tyme sygh All priueliche that none it wyst His owne bondes that one kyst Of fyne golde / and of fyne perye The whiche out of his tresorie was take anone he fylde full That other coffre of strawe and mull with stones meued he fylde also Thus be they full bothe two So that erelyche vpon a day He had within / there he lay There shulde to fore his bedde A bourde vp sette and fayre spredde And than he let the cofres fette Vpon the bourde and did hem set He knewe the names well of tho The whiche ayene hym grutched so Both of his chambre and of his halle Anone and sent for hem alll And sayde to hem in this wyse ¶ There shall no man his hap despyse I wote well ye haue longe serued And god wote what ye haue deserued But if it is alonge on me Of that ye vnauaunced be Or els if it belonge on you The soth shall be preued nowe To stoppe with your euyll worde Lo here two cofers on the borde Chese whiche you lyst of both two And wyteth well that one of tho Is with treasour so full begone That if ye happe therupon Ye shal be riche men for euer Nowe chese take whiche you is leuer But be well ware er that ye take For of that one I vndertake There is no maner good therin wherof ye myght profite wynne Nowe goth to gether of one assent And maketh your aduisement For but I you this day auaunce It stant vpon your owne chaunce All onely in default of grace So shall be shewe in this place Vpon you all well afyne That no defaute shall be myn They knelen all and with one voys The kynge they thanken of this choys And after that they vp aryse And gon a syde and hem auyse And at last they acorde wherof her tale to recorde To what yssue they ben falle A knyght shall speke for hem alle He kneleth downe to the kynge And sayth that they vpon this thynge Or for to wynne or for to lese Ben all auysed for to chese Tho toke this knyght a yerd on hond And goth there as the cofers stond And with thassent of euerychone He leyd his yard vpon one And seyth the kynge howe thylke same They chese in reguerdon by name And preith him that they might it haue The king which wold his honour saue whan he hath herd the comon voys Hath graunted hem her owne choys And toke hem therupon the keye But for he wolde it were seye what good they haue as they suppose He had anone the cofer vnclose whiche was fulfilled with straw stones Thus be they serued all at ones This kynge than in the same stede Anone that other Cofer vndede where as they sawen great rychesse wel more than they couthen gesse Lo seyth the kynge nowe may ye see That there is no defaute in me For thy my selfe I wol acquyte And bereth ye your owne wyte Of that fortune hath you refused Thus was this wyse kynge excused And they lefte of her euyl speche And mercy of her kynge beseche ¶ Nota de diuiciarum accidencia / vbi narrat qualiter Fredericus RomanoruÌ„ imperator duos â—anperes andiuit litigantes quorum vnus dixit Bene potest ditari quem rex vult ditare Et alius dixit quem deus vult ditare diues erit / que rex cum ad experimeÌ„toÌ„ postea probata fuiffet ill equi deum innocabat pastellum auto plinum sortitâ—â— est alius vero caponis pastellum sorte preelegit ⧠Somdele to this mater lyke I fynde a tale howe Frederyke Of Rome that tyme Emperour Herde as he wente a great clamour Of two beggers vpon the weye That one of hem began to seye Halord wel may the man be ryche whome that a kynge lyst to ryche That other sayd no thynge soo But he is ryche and wel bego To whome that god wol send wele And thus they maden wordes fele wherof this lord hath hede nome And dyd hem both for to come To the payleys where he shall ete And bad ordeyn for her mete Two pasteys whiche he lete do make A capon in that one was bake And in that other for to wynne Of floreyns all that may within He let do put a great riches And euen as lyche as man may gesse Outward they were both two This begger was commaunded tho He that whiche held hym to the kynge That he fyrst chese vpon this thynge He sawe hem but he felt hem nought So that vpon his owne thought He chese the capon and forsoke That other whiche his felawe toke But whan he wyst howe that it ferde He seyth aloude that men it herde Nowe haue I certaynly conceyued That he may lyghtly be deceyued That trysteth vnto mans helpe But wel is hym that god wol helpe For he stant on the syker syde whiche elles shulde go besyde I se my felawe wel recouer And I mote dwelle still pouer Thus spake the begger his entent And powre he cam and powre he went Of that he hath rychesse sought His infortune it wolde nought So may it shewe in sondry wyse Betwene fortune and couetyse The chance
may And she with that there as she lay Bigan hym in hir armes clyppe And kyst 〈◊〉 with hir softe lyppe And sayde ▪ syre graunt mercy And he loue after was redy And toke his leue for to go In sory tyme dyd he so This Thereus goth forth to shyppe And with hym his felaushyppe By see the ryght cours he nam Vnto the countrey tyll he cam where Philomene was dwellynge And of hir suster the tydynge He rolde and tho they weren gladde And mochel ioye of hym they made The father and the mother bothe To leue her doughter were lothe But if they were in presence And netheles at reuerence Of hym that wolde hym selfe trauayle They wolde nought he shulde fayle And that they prayde gyue her leue And she that wolde not beleue In all hast made her iare Towarde hir suster for to fare with Thereus and forth she went And he with his hole entent whan she was fro her frendes go Assottith of her loue so That his eie myght he not witholde That he ne must on hir beholde And with the syght gan desyre And set his owne herte a fyre And fire whan it to towe approcheth To hym anone the strength accrocheth Tyll with his hete it be deuoured The towe ne may not be souccoured And so the tyrant rauener whan that she was in his power And he therto sawe tyme and place As he that lost hath all grace Forgate he was a wedded man And in a rage on hir he ran Ryght as a wolfe that taketh his pray And she began to crye and pray O father o mother dere Nowe helpe but they ne myght it here And she was of to lytell myght Defence ageyne so rude a knyght To make whan he was so woode That he no reason vnderstode But helde her vnder in suche wyse That she ne myght not aryse But lay oppressed and disesed As if a Gous hauke had feysed A byrde whiche durst not for fere Remue and thus this tyraunt there By cast hir suche thynge as men seyne May neuer more be yolden ageyne And that was the virginite Of suche rauyn it was pyte But whan she to hir selfe come And of hir mischiefe hede nome And knewe how that she was no maide with wofull herte thus she sayde O thou of all men the werst where was there euer man that derst Do suche a dede as thou hast do That day shall falle I hope so That I shall tell out all my fylle And with my speche I shall fulfylle The wyde worlde in brede and length That thou hast done to me by strength If that I amonge the people dwelle Vnto the people I shall it telle And if I be within walle Of stones closed than I shalle Vnto the stones clepe and crie And tell hem thy felonye And if I to the wodes wende There shall I tell all and ende And crye it to the byrdes out That they shall here it all aboute For I so lowde it shall reherse That my voyce shall the heuen perce That it shall sowne in goddes ere A fals man where is thy fere O more cruel than ony beest Howe hast thou holden thy behest whiche thou vnto my suster madest O thou whiche all loue vngladest And art ensample of all vntrewe Nowe wolde god my suster knewe Of thyn vntrouthe howe that it stode And he than as a lyon wode with his vnhappy bondes stronge He caught hir by the tresses longe with the which he bōde both hir armes That was a feble dede of armes And to the grounde anone hir cast And out he clyppeth also fast Hir tonge with a payre of sheres So what with blode what with teres Out of hir eyen and out of hir mouthe He made hir fayre face vncouth She lay swownynge vnto the dethe There was vnneth ony brethe But yet whan he hir tonge refte A lytell parte therof be lefte But she withall no worde may sowne But chitre and as a byrde iargowne And neuertheles that wode hounde Hir body bent vp fro the grounde And sent hir there as by his wyll She shulde abyde in prisone styll For euer mo but nowe take hede what after felle of this mysdede whan all this mischiefe was befall This Thereus that foule hym falle Vnto his countrey home he tigh And whan he come his palais nigh His wyfe alredy there hym kepte whan he hir sigh anone he wept And that he dyd for deceyte For she began to aske hym streyte where is my suster and he sayde That she was dede and Progne abraide As she that was a wofull wyfe And stode betwene her deth and lyfe Bicause she herde suche tydynge But for she sygh her lord wepynge She wende nought but all trouth And had wel the more routh The perles were tho forsake To her and blacke clothes take As she that was gentill and kynde In worshyp of her susters mynde She made a ryche enterement For she fonde none amendement To syghen or to sob more So was there gyle vnder the gore Nowe leue we this kynge and quene And torne ayene to Phylomene As I beganne to tell erste whan she cam in to prison ferst It thought a kynges doughter straunge To make so sodeyne a chaunge Fro welth / vnto so great a wo And she began to thynke tho Though she by mouth nothyng praide within her herte thus she sayde O thou almyghty Iubyter That hye syttest / and lokest ferre Thou suffrest many a wrongfull doynge And yet it is not thy wyllynge To the there may nothynge ben hyd Thou wost / howe it is betyde I wolde I had not be bore For than had I nought forlore My speche and my virginite But good lorde all is in the whan thou therof wolte do vengeaunce And shape my delyueraunce And euer amonge this lady wepte And thought that she neuer kepte To be a worldes woman more And that she wyssheth euermore But ofte vnto her syster dere Her herte speketh in this manere And saide O syster if ye knewe Of myn estate ye wolde rewe I trowe and my delyueraunce ye wold shape and do vengeaunce On hym / that is so fals a man And netheles so as I can I wyll you sende some tokenynge wherof ye shall haue knowlegynge Of thynge I wote that shall you lothe The whiche you toucheth and me both And tho within a whyle as tyte She wafe a cloth of sylke all whyte with letters and imagery In whiche was all the felony whiche Thereus to her hath do And lapped it to gether tho And sette hir signet thervpon And sent it vnto Progne anon The messager whiche forth it bare what it amounted is nought ware And netheles to Progne he goth And priuely taketh her the cloth And went agayn ryght as be cam The courte of hym none bede name ¶ whan Progne of Philomene herde She wolde knowe how that it ferde And openeth that the mā hath brought And wot therby what hath be wrought And what mischiefe there is
his kyngdome vnderfongeth God had hym chese what he wolde And sayde hym that he haue sholde what he wolde aske as of o thynge And he whiche was a newe kynge Forth thervpon his boone prayde To god and in this wyse sayde O kynge by whom that I shall reigne Yeue me wysdome that I my reygne Forth with the people whiche I haue To thyn honour may kepe and saue whan Salomon his boone hath taxed The god of that whiche he hath axed was ryght well payde granteth soone Not all onely that he his boone Shall haue of that but of rychesse Of hele of pees of hye noblesse For with wysdome at his askynges whiche stant aboue all other thynges ¶ Hic dicit secundum Salomonem quod regie magestatis imperium ante omnia sano coÌ„silio dirigendum eft ¶ But what kyng wyll his reygne saue Fyrst hym behoueth for to haue After the god and his beleue Suche counseyle whiche is to beleue Full fylde of trouth and ryghtwysenes But aboue all in his noblesse Betwene the reddour and Pyte A kynge shall do suche equite And set the balaunce in euen So that the hygh god of heuen And all the people of his nobleye Lowenge vnto his name seye For moost aboue all erthly good where that a kynge hym selfe is good It helpeth for in other weye If so be that a kynge forsweye ¶ Quidquid delirant reges plectuntur Achiui Full ofte er this it hath be seyne The comen people is ouerleyne And hath the kynges synne abought All though the people agylte nought Of that the kynge his god mysserueth The people takth that he deserueth Here in this worlde but elles where I not howe it shall stonde there For thy good is a kynge to triste Fyrst to hym selfe as he ne wyst None other helpe but god allone So shall the rule of his persone within hym selfe through prouidence Ben of the better conscience And for to fynde ensample of this A tale I rede and soth it is ¶ Hic de Lucio imperatore exemplum ponit qualiter princepa sui nominis famam a secretis consilariis sapienter inuestigare debet et si quid in ea sinistrum inuenerit prouisa discretione ad dexteraÌ„ conuertat ⧠In a cronyke it telleth thus The kynge of Rome Lucyus within his chambre vpon a nyght The stewarde of his hous a knyght Forth with his chamberleyne also To counseyle had both two And stoden by the chymne To gether spekende all thre And happeth that the kynges fole Sat by the fyre vpon a stole As he that with his bable playde But yet he herde all that they sayde And therof toke they no hede The kynge hem axeth what to rede Of suche matere as cam to mouth And they hym tolde as they couth whan all was spoke of that they ment The kynge with all his holle entent Then at last hem axeth this what kynge men tellen that he is Emonge the folke touchyng his name Or it be prys or it be blame Ryght after that they herden seyne He had hem for to telle it pleyne That they no poynt of soth forbere By thylke feyth that they hym bere The stewarde first vpon this thynge Gafe his answere vnto the kynge And thought glose in this matere And said al 's ferre as he can here His name is good and honourable Thus was the stewarde fauourable That he the trouth pleyne ne tolde The kynge than axeth as he sholde The chamberleyne of his auyse And he that was subtyle and wyse And somdele thought vpon his feyth Hym tolde howe all the people seyth That if his counseyle were trewe They wyst than well and knewe That of hym selfe he shulde be A worthy kynge in his degre And thus the counseyle he accuseth In party and the kynge excuseth The fole whiche herde of all this cas what tyme as goddes wylle was Sigh that they sayden not ynough And hem to scorne both lough And to the kynge he sayd tho Syr kynge if that it were so Of wysdome in thyn owne mode That thou thy selfe were good Thy counceyl shuld not be bad The kynge therof merueyle had whan that a fole so wysely spake And of hym selfe fonde oute the lacke within his owne conscience And thus the folis euidence whiche was of goddes grace enspyred Makth that good counceil was desired He put awey the vicious And toke to him the vertuous The wrongfull lawes ben amended The londes good is well dispended The people was nomore opressed And thus stode euery thinge redressed For where a kynge is propre wyse And hath suche as him selfe is Of his counceyl / it may not fayle That euery thinge ne shal auayle The vyces than gone awey And euery vertu bolte his wey wherof the hye god is plesed And all the londes folke esed For if the comyn people crye And than a kynge lyst not to plye To here what the clamore wolde And other wyse than he shulde Disdayneth for to done hem grace It hath be seen in many place There hath be falle great contraire And that I fynde of ensamplaire ⧠Hic dicit quod seniores magis experti ad â—â—â—neâ—â—â—e consilium admittendi pocius existunt / Et narrat / qualiter pro eo quod Roboas Salomonis filius et heres senium sermonibus renuncians dicta inuenum preelegit / de duodecim tribus Israel a domino suo decem penitus amisit / et sic cuÌ„ duabus taÌ„tuÌ„modo illusus postea regnauit ⧠After the deth of Salomone whan thilke wyse kynge was gone And Roboas in his persone Receyue shuld the corone The people vpon a parlement Auysed were of one assent And all vnto the kynge they preyde with comune voys and thus they sayde Our liege lorde we the byseche That thou receyue our humble speche And graunt vs whiche that reason wyl Or of thy grace / or of thy skyl Thy fader whyle he was alyue And might both graunte and priue Vpon the werkes whiche he had The comon people streite lad whan he the temple made newe Thinge whiche men neuer afore knewe He brought vp than of his tallage And all was vnder the visage Of werkes whiche he made tho But nowe it is befalle so That all is made right as he sayde And he was riche whan he deyd So that it is no maner nede If thou therof wilt taken hede To pillen of the people more whiche longe tyme hath be greued sore And in this wyse as we the seye with tender herte we the preye That thou relesse thilke dette whiche vpon vs thy fader sette And if the lyke to done so we ben thy men for euermo To gone and comen at thyn heste The kinge whiche herde this requeste Saith that he wyl ben aduysed And hath therof a tyme assised And in the whyle as he him thought Vpon this thinge counceyl he sought And firste the wise knightes olde To whome that he his tale tolde Counceyllen him in