and entent that god almyghty◠haue mercy vpō you in hys last iugement For saynt Iames sayth in hys Epistel iugement without mercye shal be do to hym that hath no mercy of another wight WHan Melibee had herde the great skylles and reasons of dame Prudence and her wyse informations and techynges hys herte gan enclyne to the wyl of hys wyfe consydryng her trew entent confirmed hym anon and assented fully to worke after her counsayle thanked god of whome procedeth all goodnesse vertue that hym had sent a wyfe of so great discretion And whan the day came that his aduersaries shulde appere in his prensence he spake to hem goodly and sayde in thys wyse Al be it so that of your pryde and high presumption and foly and of your negligence vnconnyng ye haue misborne you and trespaced vnto me yet for as mikel as I se and beholde your great humilyte and that ye be sory and repentaūt of your gyltes it cōstrayneth me to do you grace and mercy wherfore I receyue you to my grace and forgyue you holy al the offences iniuries and wronges that ye haue don agaynst me and myne to theffecte ende that god of his endlesse mercy wol at the tyme of oure dyeng forgyue vs our gyltes that we haue trespaced to him in thys wreched worlde For doutlesse yf we be sory and and repentaunt for the synnes and gyltes whyche we haue trespaced in y e syght of oure lord god he is so fre and so merciable that he woll forgyue vs oure gyltes and brynge vs to the blysse that neuer shall haue ende AMEN ¶ Here endeth the tale of Chaucer and here foloweth the Monkes Prologue WHan ended was the tale of Malibee And of Prudence and her benygnyte Our Host sayd as I am faythfull man And by the precious corps Madrian I had leuer than a barel of ale That Goodlefe my wyfe had herd thys tale For she nothyng is of suche pacience As was thys Melibeus wyfe Prudence By goddes bones whā I bete my knaues She bringeth me the great clubbed staues And crieth slee the dogges euerichone And breke bothe backe and euery bone And yf that any neyghbour of myne Wol not in churche to my wyfe enclyne Or be so hardy to her to trespace whan she cometh hom she rāpeth in my face And cryeth false cowarde wreke thy wyfe By corpus domini I wol haue thy knyfe And thou shalt haue my distaffe go spynne Fro day tyl nyght she wol thus begynne ¶ Alas she saith that euer she was shape To wedde a mylksop a cowarde ape That wol be ouerleyde with euery wight Thou darst not stonde by thy wyues right This is my lyfe but yf that I wold fight And out at dore anon I mote me dight And els I am lost but yf that I Be lyke a wylde lyon fole hardy I wote wel she wol do me slee some day Some neyghbour and than go my way For I am perlous with knyfe in honde Al be it that I dare not her withstonde For she is bygge in armes be my faithe That shal he fynd that her mysdoth or saith But lette vs passe away from this matere ¶ My lord he sayd sir mōke be mery of chere For ye shal tel vs a tale trewly Lo Rochester stondeth here fast by Ride sorth myne owne lorde breke not oure game But by my trouthe I knowe not your name whether I shal cal you my lorde dan Iohn Or dan Thomas dan Robert or dan Albon Or of what house be ye by your farther kyn I vowe to god thou hast a ful fayre chyn It is a gentyl pasture there thou gost Thou arte not lyke a pynaunt or a ghost Vpon my faythe thou arte some officere Some worthy Sexten or some Celerere For by my fathers soule as to my dome Thou art a mayster whan thou art at home No poore cloysterer ne no poore nouyse But a gouernoure ware and wyse And therwith of brawne and of bones A wel faryng person for the nones I pray to god yeue him confusyon That fyrst the brought in to religyon Thou woldest be a trede foule a right Haddest thou as gret leue as thou hast might To perfourme al thy lust in engendrure Thou haddest begoten many a creature Alas why werest thou so wyde a cope God yeue me sorowe and I were pope Not only thou but euery mighty man Though he were shore hyghe vpon his pan Shuld haue a wyfe for al this world is lorn Religyon hath take vp al the corne Of tredynge and borel men ben shrimpes Of feble trees there cometh wretched impes This maketh that our heires be so slender And feble that they maye not wel engender This maketh that our wyues wol assay Religious folke for they may better pay Of Venus paymentes than mowe we God wote no lusheburghs paye ye But be not wroth my lorde though I playe Full ofte in game a sothe haue I herde saye This worthy monke toke al in pacience And sayd I wol do my dilygence As ferre as sowneth in to honeste To tel you a tale ye two or thre And yf ye lyst to herken hytherwarde I wol you sayne the lyfe of saynt Edwarde Or els tragedyes fyrst I wol tel Of whiche I haue an hundred in my cel Tragedy is to tel a certayne story As olde bokes maken memory Of hem that stode in great prosperyte And be fallen out of hye degre In to mysery and ended wretchedly And they ben vercifyed comenly Of syxe fete whiche men cal exametron In prose eke ben endyted many on And in metre many a sondrye wyse Lo this ought ynough to suffyse Nowe herkeneth yf you lyste for to here But fyrst I beseche you in this matere Though I by order tel nat these thynges Be it of Popes Emperours or Kynges After her ages as men written fynde But tellen hem some before some behynde As it cometh nowe to my remembraunce Haue me excused of myne ignoraunce ¶ Here endeth the Monkes Prologue and here begynneth hys tale I Wyl bewayle in maner of tragedy The harme of hem that stoden in hye degre And fyl so that there nas no remedy To bryng hem out of her aduersyte For certayn whan that fortune lyst to flye There may no mā of her the course withold Lette no man trust on blynde prosperite Bethware by this ensample yonge and old ¶ Lucifer AT Lucifer though he an angel were And nat a mā at him wyl I begynne For though fortune maye nat angel dere Frō hye degre yet fel he for his synne Doun in to hel where he is yet inne O Lucifer brightest of angels al Now art thou Sathanas y t maist nat twyn Out of mysery in whiche thou arte fal ¶ Adam ¶ Lo Adam in the felde of Damascene With goddes own fynger wrought was he And not begotten of mannes sperm vnclene And welte al paradise sauyng o tree Neuer worldly man had so hye degre As
skyn of HouÌ„dfysh as sharp as brere For he was shaue al newe in hys manere He rubbeth her vpon her tendre face And sayd thus Alas I mote trespace To you my spouse and you greatly offende Or tyme come that I wol downe dyscende But natheles consydreth thys ê™ he There nys no workman what so euer he be That may both wyrche wel and hastely Thys wol be done at leyser parfytly It is no force howe longe that we play In trewe wedlocke coupled be we tway And blessed be the yoke that we bene in For in our actes we mowe do no syn A man may do no synne wyth hys wyfe Ne hurte hym selfe wyth hys owne knyfe For we haue leaue to play vs by the lawe Thus laboureth he tyl the day gan dawe And then he taketh a soppe in fyne clarre And vpryght in hys bedde then sytteth he And after that he syngeth full loude clere And kyst hys wyfe and maketh wantoÌ„ chere He was al coltyshe and ful of ragery And ful of gergon as is a flecked pye The slacke skynne aboute hys necke shaketh whyle that he songe so chauÌ„teth he craketh But god wot what May thought iÌ„ her herte when she hym sawe vpsyttyng in hys sherte In hys nyght cappe with hys necke lene She prayseth not his playeng worth a bene Then sayd he thus my rest wol I take Now daye is come I may no lenger wake And downe he layd his heed slept til prime And afterward when that he saw hys tyme Vp ryseth Ianuary but the freshe May Holdeth her chambre to the fourth day As vsage is of wyues for the best For euery labour somtyme mote haue rest Or els longe may he not endure Thys is to say no lyues creature Be it fyshe or beest brydde or man Now wol I speake of woful Damian That langureth for loue as ye shal here Therfore I speke to hym in thys manere ¶ I say O sely Damian alas Answere to thys demaunde as in thys caas Howe that thou to thy lady freshe May Tel thy wo she wol alwaye saye nay Eke yf thou speke she wol thy wo bewray God be thyn helpe I can no better say Thys sycke Damian in Venus fyre So brenneth that he dyeth for desyre For whych he put hys lyfe in auenture No lenger myght he in thys wyse endure But priuely a penner gan he borowe And in a lettre wrote he al hys sorowe In maner of a complaynt or a lay Vnto thys fayre and freshe lady May And in a purse of sylke hoÌ„gyng on hys shert He hath it put and layde it at hys hert ¶ The mone at noone tyde that ylke day That Ianuary hath ywedded freshe May Out of Taure was in the Cancre gleden So longe hath May in her chambre bydden As custome is vnto these nobles al A bryde shal not eaten in the hal Tyl dayes foure or thre at the leest I passed bene then let her gon to feest ¶ The fourth day coÌ„plete fro noon to noone when that the hye masse was ydone In hal sat thys Ianuary and May As freshe as is thys bryght somers day And so befyl how that thys good man Remembreth hym vpon thys Damian And sayd saynt Mary how may thys be That Damian entendeth not to me Is he aye sycke or how may thys betyde Hys squyers which that stodeÌ„ hym besyde Excused hym bycause of hys sycknesse whych letted hym to done hys besynesse None other cause myght make hym tary That me forthynketh ê™ this Ianuary He is a gentle squyer be my trouthe If that he dyed it were harme and routhe He is as wyse dyscrete and secre As any man that I wote of hys degre And therto manly and seruysable And for to be a thryfty man ryght able But after meate as sone as euer I may I wol my selfe vysete hym and eke May To done hym al the comforte that I can And for that worde hym blessed euery man That of hys bounte and of hys gentylnesse He wolde so comforten in hys dystresse Hys squyer for it was a gentle dede Dame ê™ thys Ianuary take good hede That after meate ye and your wemen al when ye haue ben in chaÌ„bre out of this hal That al ye gone to se thys Damian Doth hym dysporte he is a gentyl man And telleth hym that I wol hym visite Haue I nothyng but rested me a lyte And spede you fast for I wol abyde Tyl that ye slepe fast by my syde And with that worde he gan to hym cal A squyer that was Marshal of hys hal And tolde him certayn thynge that he wolde This fresh May hath streight her way ihold with al her women vnto this Damyan Downe by hys beddes syde sat she then Confortyng hym as goodly as she may This Damyan whaÌ„ that he his tyme say In secrete wyse hys purse and eke hys byl In whiche he had written al hys wyl Hath put in to her honde withouten more Saue that he syghed wonders depe and sore And sothly to her ryght thus sayd he Merry and that ye discouer nat me For I am deed yf that this thyng be kydde This purse hath she in her bosome hydde And went her way ye gete no more of me But vnto Ianuary icome is she And on hys beddes syde she sytte ful softe He taketh her and kysseth her ful ofte And layde hym downe to slepe that anon She fayned her as that she must gon There as ye wote y t euery wight hath nede And whan she of this byl hath taken hede She rent it al to cloutes and at last In to the preuy sothly she it cast who studieth nowe but faire fresshe May And adown by Ianuary she lay That slepte tyl the cough hath hym awaked Anon he prayde her to stripe her al naked He wolde of her he said haue some pleasauÌ„ce He said her clothes dyd hym encombraunce And she obeyeth be she lese or lothe But lest that precious folke be w t me wrothe Howe that he wrought I dare nat to you tel Or whether she thought it paradise or hel But I lette hem worche in her wyse Tyl euynsong ryng that they must aryse Were it by desteny or by auenture were it by influence or by nature Or constellation that in suche estate The heuen stode that tyme fortunate Was for to put a byl of Venus warkes For al thyng hath tyme as sayn clerkes To any woman for to gete her loue I can nat say but the great god aboue That knoweth that non acte is causeles He demeth al for I wol holde my pees But sothe is this howe y t this freshe May Hath take suche impressyon that day Of pyte on thys sicke Damyan That fro her hert she dryue ne can The remembraunce for to downe hym ease Certayn thought she whom thys thyng displease I recke not for this I hym assure I loue hym best of any creature Though he no more had than hys shert Lo pyte
drenched hem selfe as bokes tell They of Messene let enquire and seke Of Lacidomony fyfty maydens eke On which they wolde haue don her lechery But there was none of al that company That she nas slayne and with a glad entenâ— Chese rather for to dyen than for to assent To ben oppressed of her maydenhede why shulde I than to dye ben in drede Lo eke the tyraunt Aristoclides That loued a mayde y t hight Symphalydes whan that her father slayne was on a nyght Vnto Dyanes temple gothe she anon ryght And hente the ymage with her armes two Fro whiche ymage wolde she neuer go No wight might fro it her hondes race Tyl she was slayne right in the selfe place Now sythnes y t maydens had such dispyte To ben defouled with mannes foule delyte wel ought a wyfe rather her selfe slee Than be defouled as thynketh me What shal I say of Hasdruballes wyfe That at Cartage byrafte her selfe her lyfe For whaÌ„ she sawe y e romanes wan the town She toke her chyldren al and lepte adown Into the fyre and chese rather to dye Than any roman dyd her villanye Hath not Lucrece islayne her selfe alas At Rome there she oppressed was Of Tarquyne for her thought it was shame To lyue whan that she had lost her name The eyght maydens of Melesye also Han slayn hem selue for very drede and wo Rather than folke of Gaule shuld heÌ„ oppresse Mo than a thousande stories as I gesse Couthe I nowe tel as touchyng this matere ¶ whan Abradas was slayn his wife so dere Her selfe slowe and let her bloode to glyde In Abradas woundes brode and wyde And sayd my body at the leste way There shal no wight defoule yf I may ¶ What shulde I mo ensamples herof sayn Sythens that so many han hem selfe slayn Wel rather than they wolde defouled be I wol conclude that it is best for me Wel rather slee my selfe in some manere As dyd demoâ—tious doughter dere Bycause that she nolde not defouled be ¶ O Sedasus it is ful great pyte To reden howe thy doughters dyden alas That slowen hem selfe for such a maner caas As great a pyte was it or wel more The Theban mayden that for Nychanore For one of Macedone had her oppressed with her dethe her maydenhede she redressed ¶ What shal I sayne of Nycerates wyfe That for suche case birafte her selfe her lyfe ¶ Howe trewe was eke to Alcibyades His loue that for to dyen rather thees Than for to suffren his body vnburyed be ¶ Lo whiche a wyfe was Alceste ê™ she what saythe Homere of good Penelope Al Grece knoweth of her chastyte ¶ Parde of Laodomia is written thus That whaÌ„ at Troy was slayn Protheselaus No lenger nolde she lyue after his day ¶ The same of noble Portia tel I may withouten Brutus couthe she not lyue To whom she had al her herte igyue ¶ The parfyte wyfehode of Artemisy Honoured is throughout al Barbary ¶ Oh Thenta quene thy wifely chastyte To al wyues may a myrrour be The same thyng I saye of Bilâ—a Of Rodogone and eke Valeria ¶ Thus playned Dorigene a day or twey Purposyng euer that she wolde dey But nathelesse vpon the thyrde nyght Home came Arueragus the worthy knight And asked her why she wepte so sore And she gan wepen euer lenger the more ¶ Alas ê™ she that euer was I borne Thus haue I said ê™ she thus haue I sworn And tolde him al as ye haue herde before It nedeth not to reherce it no more ¶ This husboÌ„de w t glad chere in soÌ„drie wyse Answerde and sayd as I shal you deuyse Is there aught els Dorigene but this ¶ Nay nay ê™ she god helpe me so as wys This is to moche and it were goddes wyl ¶ Ye wyfe ê™ he let slepe that is styl It may be wel yet parauenture to day Ye shal your trouthe holde by my fay For god so wysly haue mercy on me I had wel leuer stycked for to be For very loue whiche that I to you haue But yf ye shulde your trouthe saue Trouth is the hyest thyng that meÌ„ may kepe But with that worde he brast anon to wepe And said I you forbyd on payne of dethe That neuer whiles you lasteth lyfe or brethe To no wight tel of this misauenture As I may beste I wol my wo endure Ne make no countenaunce of heuynesse That folke of you may deme harme ne gesse And forthe he cleped a squier and a mayde Gothe forthe anon with Dorigene he sayde And bringeth her in suche a place anone They toke her leue on her way they gone But they ne wyste why she thyder went She nolde no wight tel her entent ¶ This squier whiche that hyght Aurelius On Dorigen whiche that was so amerous Of auenture happed her to mete Amydde the towne right in the hye strete As she wolde haue gon the way forthe right Towarde the garden there as she had hyght And he was to the garden warde also For wel he spyed whan she wolde go Out of her house to any maner place But thus they met of auenture or of grace And he salueth her with glad entent And asked of her whyther that she went ¶ And she answerde halfe as she were madde Vnto the garden as my husbonde badde My trouthe for to holde alas alas Aurelius gan wondren of this caas And in his hert had great compassyon Of her chere and of her lamentation And of Aruyragus the worthy knyght That bade her holde al that she had hyght So loth he was y t she shuld breke her trouth And in hys herte he caught of it great routh Consydryng the beste on euery syde That fro his luste were him better abyde Than do so hye a churlishe wretchydnesse Ayenst fraunchise ayenst al gentylnesse For whiche in fewe wordes said he thus Madame saythe to your lorde Aruiragus That sythen I se this great gentylnesse Of hym and eke I se wel your distresse That ye to me thus shuld holde your trouthe Certes me thynketh it were great routhe I haue wel leuer euer to suffre wo Than departe the loue bytwyxt you two I you relese madame into your honde Quyte euery surement and euery bonde That ye haue made to me as here byforne Sythens thylke tyme that ye were borne my trouth I plight I shal you neuer repreue Of no beheste and here I take my leue As of the trewest and the beste wyfe That euer yet I knewe in al my lyfe But euery wight beware of her byheste On Dorigene remembreth at the leste Thus can a squyer done a gently dede As wel as can a knyght withouten drede ¶ She thonked hym vpon her knees al bare And home vnto her husbonde is she fare And tolde him al as ye han herde me sayde And be ye syker he was so wel apayde That it were vnpossible me to write What shulde I lenger of this case endyte Arueragus and
drede myne house to aproch To this sentence answerde anon Prudence Warnishyng ê™ she of hye toures of hye edyfices is with great costages and with great trauayle and whan that they ben accoÌ„plished yet ben they not worth a strawe but yf they ben defended with trew frendes that ben olde and wyse And vnderstondeth wel that y e greatest and the stroÌ„gest garnyson that ryche men maye haue as wel to kepen her parsone as her goodes is y t they be byloued with her subiectes and with her neyghbours For thus saythe Tullius that there is a maner garryson that no man may venquishe ne discomfyte and that is a lorde to be byloued of his cytezyns of his people ¶ Nowe sir as to the thyrde poynte where as your olde and wyse counsaylours sayde that ye ought not sodainly ne hastely procede in this nede â–ª but that ye oughten puruayen and aparayle you in this case with great dylygence and delyberacion Verily I trowe y t they sayde right trewly and ryght sothe For Tullius sayth In euery dede or thou begyn it apparayle the with great dyligence Than say I in vengeaunce takyng in werre in batayle and in warnestoryng or thou begyn I rede that thou apparayle the therto and do it with great delyberacioÌ„ For Tullius saith The longe apparelynge to fore the batayle maketh shorte victorie And Cassidorus saith The garryson is stronger whan it is longe tyme auysed But nowe let vs speke of the counsayle that was acorded by your neyghbours suche as don you reuerence withouteÌ„ loue your olde enemyes reconciled your flatterers that counsayled you certayne thynges priuely and openly counsayled you the contrarye The yong folke also that counsayled you to venge you to make werre anon Certes syr as I haue sayde byfore ye haue greatly erred to clepe suche maner of folke to youre counsayle whiche counsaylours ben ynoughe reproued by the resons a forsayd But nathelesse let vs nowe discende to the special Ye shul fyrste procede after the doctryne of Tullius Certes the trouthe of thys mater or of thys counsayle nedeth not dyligently to enquire for it is wel wyste which they ben that han done you this trespas and vilanye and howe many trespasours and in what maner they haue done al thys wronge to you and al this vilanye And after thys than shul ye examyne the seconde condicion whiche Tullius addeth in thys mater For Tullius putteth a thyng whiche that he clepeth consentyng this is to say who ben they and whiche ben they and howe manye that coÌ„senten to thy counsayle in thy wylfulnesse to done hasty vengeaunce And let vs consyder also who ben they and howe manye they ben that consented to youre aduersaries As to the fyrst poynt it is wel knowen whiche folke they be that coÌ„sented to your hasty wylfulnesse For trewly al tho that counsayl you to maken sodayne werre ne be not your frendes Let se nowe whiche ben they that ye holden so greatly your freÌ„des as to your person For al be it so that ye be mighty rich certes ye ben but alone for trewly ye ne haue no chyld but a doughter ne ye haue no brethern ne cosyns germayns ne none other nye kynrede wherfore your enemyes shuld stynte to plede with you ne to distroye your person Ye knowe also that youre rychesse mot be dispended in dyuers parties And whaÌ„ that euery wight hath his parte they wollen take but lytell regarde to venge your dethe But thyne enemyes ben thre they haue manye brethern children cosyns other nye kynred though so were that thou haddest slayne of hem two or thre yet dwelleth ther ynowe to auenge her dethe and to slee thy person And though so be that your kynrede be more stedfaste and syker than the kyn of your aduersaryes yet neuer the lesse your kynrede is but after kynrede for they ben but lytel sybbe to you and the kynne of your enemyes ben nye sybbe to hem And certes as in that her condicion is better than is yours Than let vs consyder also of the counsaylynge of hem that counsayled you to take sodayne vengeaunce whether it acorde to reson or non And certes ye know wel nay for as by ryght and reson there maye no man take vengeaunce of no wight but the iuge that hath iurisdiction of it whan it is graunted hym to take vengeaunce hastely or attemperatly as the lawe requireth And yet more ouer of thylke worde that Tullius clepeth coÌ„sentynge thou shalte coÌ„sent yf that thy might and thy power may consente and suffyse to thy wilfulnesse and to thy counsaylours And certes thou mayste wel saye naye for sykerly as for to speke properly we may do nothyng but suche thynge as we may done ryghtfully and certes righfully ye may take no vengeaunce as of your own propre auctorite Than maye ye se that youre power ne consenteth not ne accordeth not with your wylfulnesse Nowe let vs examyne the thyrde poynt that Tullius clepeth consequence Thou shalte vnderstonde that the vengeaunce y t thou purposest for to take is consequent and therof foloweth an other vengeaunce peryl and werre and other damages withouten nombre of whiche we be not ware as at this tyme. And as touchynge the fourth poynte y t Tullius clepeth engendring thou shalte consyder that this wrong whiche that is done to the is engendred of y e hate of thyne enemyes and of y e vengeaunce takyng vpon hem that wolde engender a nother vengeaunce and mochel sorowe wastyng of rychesse as I sayde ere Nowe sir as touchyng the fylte poynte that Tully clepeth causes whiche is the laste poynte thou shalte vnderstonde that the wronge that thou haste receyued hathe certayne causes whiche that clerkes callen orien and efficien and causa longinqua and causa propinqua that is to saye the ferre cause and the nyghe cause The ferre cause is almyghty God that is cause of al thynges The nere cause is the thre enemyes The cause accidental was hate The cause material ben the fyue woundes of thy doughter The cause formal is the maner of theyr werkynge that brought ladders and clambe in at thy wyndowes The cause fynal was for to sle thy doughter it letted not in as moche as in them was But for to speke of y u ferre cause as to what ende they shulde come or fynally what shal betyde of them in thys case ne canne I not deme but by coniectynge and supposynge for we shall suppose that they shall come to a wycked ende bycause that the boke of decrees saythe Selde or wyth greate payne ben causes brought to a good ende whan they ben badly begonne Now sir yf men wolde aske me why that god suffred men to do you this villanye truly I can not wel answere as for no sothfastnesse For the Apostel saythe that the scyences and the iugementes of our lorde God almighty ben ful depe there may no man comprehende ne serche hem Nathelesse by certayne presumpcyous
route Her folowed in the garden all about This yerd was large rayled all the aleyes shaddowed wel w t blosomy bowes grene And benched newe and soÌ„ded al the wayes In which she walketh arm in arme betwene Tyll at the last Antigone the shene Gan on a Troyan songe to syngen clere That it an heuen was her voyce to heare She said O loue to whom I haue shall Ben humble subiect trewe in myne entent As I best can to you lorde yeue yche all For euermore my hertes lust to rent For neuer yet thy grace no wyght sent So blysfull cause as me my lyfe to lede In al ioye and suretie out of drede The blysful god hath me so wel beset In loue iwys that all that bereth lyfe Ymagynen ne coulde how to be bet For lorde withouten ielousye or stryfe I loue one which that moost is ententyfe To seruen wel vntweryly or vnfayned That euer was lest with harme distayned As he that is the well of worthynesse Of trouth ground myrrour of godlyheed Of wyt Apollo stone of sykernesse Of vertue roote of lust fynder and heed Through which is all sorowe fro me deed Ywys I loue hym best so doth he me Now good thrift haue he whersoeuer he be whom shulde I thaÌ„ken but you god of loue Of all this blysse in which to bath I gynne And thanked be ye lorde for that I loue This is the ryght lyfe that I am in To flemen al maner vyce and synne This doth me so to vertue for to entende That daye by day I in my wyll amende And who that sayth y e for to loue is vyce Or thraldome though he felt in it distresse He eyther is enuyous or ryght nyce Or is vnmyghty for his shreudnesse To louen for suche maner folke I gesse Diffamen loue as nothyng of him knowe They speken but they bent neuer his bowe what is the sonne worse of kynde ryght Though y t a man for feblenesse of his eyen May nat endure on it to se for bryght Or loue the worse that wretches on it cryen No wele is worth y t may no sorowe dryen And for thy who that hath a heed of verre Fro cast of stones ware hym in the werre But with al myne hert and al my myght As I haue sayde wol loue vnto my last My dere hert and all myne owne knyght In which myne hert growen is so fast And his in me that it shall euer last All dredde I fyrst loue hym to begyn Now wot I well there is no peryll in And of her songe right w t the worde she stent And therwithal nowe nece ê™ Creseyde who made this song now w t so good entent Antygone answerde anone and sayde Madame ywys the goodlyest mayde Of great estate in al the towne of Troye And led her lyfe in moost honour and ioye For soth so semeth it by her songe Quod tho Creseyde gan therwtih to sike And said Lorde is there such blysse amonge These louers as they can fayre endite Yea wysse quod freshe Antygone the whyte For al the folke that haue or bene on lyue Ne conne wel the blysse of loue discryue But wene ye that euery wretche wote The parfyte blysse of loue why nay ywys They wenen al be loue yf one be hote Do way do way they wote nothing of this Menne mote asken of sayntes yf it is Ought faire in heueÌ„ why for they can tell And aske fendes yf it be foule in hell Creseide vnto the purpose naught answerde But sayd ywys it wol be nyght as faste But euery word which that she of her herde She gan to printen in her herte faste And aye gan loue her lasse for to agaste Than it dyd erst and synken in her herte That she waxe somwhat able to conuerte The dayes honour and the heuens eye The night foe al thys clepe I the sunne Gan westren fast downwarde for to wrie As he that had hys dayes course yrunne And whyte thinges woxen dymme donne For lacke of lyght and sterres for to apere That she and al her folke in went yfere So whan it lyked her to gone to reste And voyded weren they that voyden oughte She sayd that to slepen well her leste Her women sone tyl her bed her broughte whaÌ„ al was hust thaÌ„ lay she styl thoughte Of al thys thynge the maner and the wyse Reherce it nedeth nat for ye bene wyse A nyghtyngale vpon a Cedre grene Vnder the chamber wal there as she lay Ful loude songe ayen the mone shene Parauenture in hys byrdes wyse a lay Of loue that made her herte freshe and gaye That herkened she so longe in good entente Tyl at the last the deed slepe her hente And as she slept anon ryght tho her mette Howe that an Egle fethered white as bone Vnder her brest hys longe clawes sette And out her hert he rent and that anone And dyd his hert in to her brest to gone of which she nought agrose ne nothiÌ„g smert And forthe he flyeth with hert lefte for herte Nowe let her slepe we our tales holde Of troylus that is to paleys rydden Fro the scarmyshe of whych I tolde And in hys chambre sate and hath abydden Tyl two or thre of his messangers yeden For Pandarus and soughten him ful fast Tyl they him found brought him at y e last Thys Pandarus came leapyng in at ones And sayd thus who hath bene wel ybete To daye wyth swerdes and slonge stones But Troylus that hath caught him an hete And gan to iape sayd Lorde ye sweete But ryse and let vs soupe and go to reste And he answerde him do we as the leste wyth al the hast goodly as they myght They spedde hem fro the souper to bedde And euery wyght out of the dore him dyght And whyder him lyst vpoÌ„ his way him sped But Troylus thought that his herte bledde For wo tyl that he herde some tydynge And sayd frende shall I now wepe or synge Quod Pandarus be styll and let me slepe And do on thyne hoode thy nedes spedde be And chese yf thou wolt syng daunce or lepe At short wordes thou shalte trowe me Sir my nece wol done wel by the And loue the beste by god by my trouthe But lacke of pursute make it in thy slouthe For thus forforth I haue thy werke begon Fro day to daye tyl this day by the morowe Her loue of frendshyp haue I to the won and therfore hath she laid her faith to borow Algate a foote is hameled of thy sorowe what shulde I lenger sermon of it holde As ye haue herde before al he him tolde But right as floures through the colde of night I closed stoupen in her stalkes low Redressen hem ayen the sunne bryght And spreden in her kynde course by rowe Ryght so gan tho his eyen vp to throwe Thys Troylus and sayd O Venus dere Thy myght thy grace yheryed
monthe of May wythouten slepe wythouteÌ„ meate or drynke Adowne full softly I gan to synke And leanynge on my elbowe and my syde The longe day I shope me for to abyde For nothynge els and I shall not lye But for to loke vpon the deysye That well by reason men it call maye The dayesy or els the eye of the daye The empryce and floure of floures all I praye to god that fayre mote she fall And all that louen floures for her sake But nathelesse ne wene not that I make In praysynge of the floure agayne the leefe Nomore then of the corne agayne the sheefe For as to me nys leuer none ne lother I nam wyth holden yet wyth neuer nother Ne I not who serueth leefe ne who y e floure well brouken they her seruyce or laboure For thys thynge is all of another tonne Of olde storye er such thynge was begonne when y t the sunne out of the south gan west And that thys floure gan close gan to rest For derknes of y e nyght y e whiche she dredde Home to myn house ful swyftly I me spedde To gon to reste and erly for to ryse To sene this flour to sprede as I deuyse And in a lytell herber that I haue That benched was on turues freshe ygraue I bade men shulde me my couche make For deyntie of the newe sommers sake I bade hem strawen floures on my bedde whan I was layde and had myn eyen hedde I fell a slepe and slepte an houre or two Me mette howe I lay in the medowe tho To sene this floure that I loue so and drede And from a ferre came walkyng in the mede The god of Loue and in hys hande a quene And she was cladde in royall habyte grene A fret of golde she had next her heere And vpon that a whyte crowne she beere wyth florouns small and I shall nat lye For all the worlde ryght as a dayesye Ycrowned is wyth whyte leaues lyte So were the florouns of her corown whyte For of o perle fyne orientall Her whyte corowne was ymaked all For which the white corowne aboue y e grene Made her lyke a dayesye for to seme Consydred eke her fret of golde aboue Iclothed was this mighty god of Loue In sylke embrouded full of grene greues In whiche a fret of reed rose leues The freshest sens y e worlde was fyrst begoÌ„ne His gylte heere was corowned with a sonne In stede of golde for heuynesse and weight Therwith me thouÈt his face shone so bright That well vnnethes might I him beholde And in his haÌ„de me thouÈt I saw him holde Two firy dartes as the gledes rede And angelyke his wynges sawe I sprede And all be that men sayne that blynde is he Algate me thought that he myght se For sternely on me he gan beholde So that his lokyng dothe myn herte colde And by the hande he helde this noble quene Crowned wyth whyte clothed al in grene So womanly so benygne and so meke That in this world though y t men wold seke Halfe her beautie shulde they nat fynde In creature that formed is by kynde And therfore may I sayne as thynketh me This songe in praysyng of this lady fre Hyde Absolon thy gylte tresses clere Hester lay thou thy mekenesse al adoun Hyde Ionathas al thy frendely manere Penelopee and Marcia Catoun Make of your wyfehode no comparysoun Hyde ye your beauties I soude Heleyne My lady cometh that al this may distayne Thy fayre body let it nat apere Lauyne and thou Lucrece of Rome toun And Polixene that boughten loue so dere And Cleopatras with all thy passyoun Hyde ye your trouthe of loue your renoun And thou Tisbe that hast of loue such payne My lady cometh that all this may distayne Hero Dido Laodomia all yfere And Phillis hangyng for the Demophoun And Canace espyed by thy chere Hipsyphile betrayed with Iasoun Maketh of your trouth neytherboste ne soun Nor Hypermistre or Ariadne ye twayne My lady cometh that all thys may distayne ¶ This balade may full well ysongen be As I haue sayd erst by my lady fre For certaynly all these mowe nat suffyse To apperen wyth my lady in no wyse For as the sunne woll the fyre distayne So passeth all my lady souerayne That is so good so fayre so debonayre I pray to god that euer fall her fayre For nad comforte ben of her presence I had ben deed wythouten any defence For drede of Loues wordes and his chere As whan tyme is herafter ye shall here Behynde this god of Loue vpon the grene I sawe comyng of ladyes nynetene In royall habyt a full easy pace And after hem came of women suche a trace That sens that god Adam had made of erthe The thyrde parte of mankynde or the ferthe Ne wende I nat by possibylyte Had euer in thys wyde worlde ybe And trewe of loue these women were echon Now whether was y t a woÌ„der thing or non That right anon as that they gonne espye This floure whych that I clepe the dayesye Full sodaynly they stynten all at ones And kneled downe as it were for the nones And songen with o voyce heale honour To trouthe of womanhede and to this flour That beareth our alder prise in fyguryng Her whyte corowne beareth the wytnessyng And with that worde acompas enuyroun They sytten hem full softely adown First sate the god of loue sythe hys quene with the whyte corowne clad all in greue And sythen all the remenaunt by and by As they were of estate full curtesly Ne nat a worde was spoken in the place The mouÌ„tenauÌ„ce of a furlong way of space I knelyng by this floure in good entente Abode to knowen what this people mente As styll as any stone tyll at the laste This god of loue on me his eyen caste And said who kneleth there and I answerde Vnto hys askyng whan that I it herde And sayd syr it am I and come hym nere And salued hym â–ª ê™ he what doest thou here So nygh myne owne floure so boldely It were better worthy trewly A worme to nighen nere my floure thaÌ„ thou And why sir ê™ I and it lyke you For thou ê™ he arte therto nothyng able It is my relyke digne and delytable And thou my foe all my folke werreyest And of myne olde seruauntes thou missayest And hyndrest hem wyth thy translation And lettest folke from her deuocion To serue me and holdest it folye To serue loue thou mayest it nat denye For in playne text wythouten nede of glose Thou hast translated the RomauÌ„t of y e Rose That is an heresye ayenst my lawe And makest wyse folke fro me withdrawe And of Creseyde thou hast sayd as the lyste That maketh men to women lesse tryste That ben as trewe as euer was any stele Of thyn answere auyse the ryght wele For though thou renyed haste my lay As other wretches haue done many a day By
from you fro no mo Fortune wyll thys that I for wele or wo My lyfe endure your mercy abydynge And very ryght wyll that I thynke also Of your worshyp aboue all other thynge La dame To your worshyp se well for that is nede That ye spende nat your season all in vayne As touchynge myne I rede you take no hede By your folly to put your selfe in payne To ouercome is good and to restrayne An herte whyche is disceyued follyly For worse it is to breke than bowe certayne Better bowe than to fall sodaynly Lamant Nowe fayre lady thynke syth it fyrst began That loue hath set myn herte vnder his cure It neuer myght ne truely I ne can None other serue whyle I shall here endure In most fre wyse therof I make you sure which may not be withdrawe this is no nay I must abyde all maner aduenture For I may neyther put to nor take away La dame I holde it for no gyfte in sothfastnesse That one offreth where it is forsake For suche a gyfte is abandonynge expresse That wyth worship ayen may not be take He hath an herte full fell that lyst to make A gyfte lyghtly that put is to refuse But he is wyse that suche conceyte wyl slake So that hym nede neyther to study ne muse Lamant He shulde nat muse y t hath hys seruyce spent On her whyche is a lady honourable And yf I spende my tyme to that entent Yet at the lest I am not reprouable Of fayned herte to thynke I am vnable Or I mystoke whan I made thys request By whiche loue hath of entreprise notable So many hertes gotten by conquest La dame If that ye lyste do after my counsayle Seche a fayrer and of more hygher fame whych in seruyce of loue wyll you preuayle After your thought accordynge to the same He hurteth both hys worshyp and hys name That follyly for twayne hī selfe wyl trouble And he also leseth his after game That surely can not set hys poyntes double Lamant This your counsayle by ought that I can se Is better sayd than done to myne aduyse Though I byleue it not forgyue it me Myne herte is such so hole without feyntyse That I ne may gyue credence in no wyse To thyng which is not sowning vnto truth Other counsayle I se be but fantasyse Saue of your grace to shewe pyte and ruth La dame I holde hym wyse that worketh no foly And whan hym lyst can leue parte therfro But in connynge he is to lerne truely That wolde hym selfe conduyte can not so And he that wyll not after counsayle do His sute he putteth in to dysperaunce And all the good that shulde fall hym to Is lost and deed clene out of remembraunce Lamant Yet wyl I sewe thys matter faythfully whyles I lyue what euer be my chaunce And yf it hap that in my truth I dye Than deth shal do me no displeasaunce But whan that I by your harde suffraunce Shall dye so true with so great a payne Yet shal it do me much the lesse greuaūce Than for to lyue a false louer certayne La dame Of me get ye ryght nought thys is no fable I wyl to you be neyther harde nor strayte And ryght wyl not no man customable To thynke ye shulde be sure of my conceyte who secheth sorowe his be the receyte Other counsayle can I not fele nor se Nor for to lerne I cast me not to awayte who wyll therof let hym assaye for me Lamant Ones must it be assayde that is no nay wyth suche as be of reputacyon And of true loue the ryght honour to pay Of free hertes gotten by dewe raunsome For frewyl holdeth thys opinion That it is great duresse and discomforte To kepe a herte in so strayte a prison That hath but one body for his disporte La dame I knowe so many causes meruaylous That I must nede of reason thynke certaine That such auenture is wonder peryllous And yet wel more the coming backe againe Good or worshyp therof is seldome sene where I ne wyll make suche araye As for to fynde a pleasaunce but a barayne whan it shal cost so dere the fyrst assaye Lamant Ye haue no cause to dout of this mater Nor you to mene with no such fantasyse To put me farre al out as a straunger For your goodnesse can thinke wel aduyse That I haue made a pryse in euery wyse By whiche my truth sheweth open euidence My longe abydyng and my trewe seruyce Maye well be knowen by playne experience La dame Of very ryght he may be called trewe And so must he be take in euery place That can discerne and set as he ne knewe And kepe the good yf he it may purchace For who y t prayeth or swereth in any case Right wel ye wote in y t no trouth is preued Such hath there bene are that getē grace And lese it sone whan they haue it acheued Lamant If truth me cause by vertue souerayne To shewe good loue alway fynde cōtrary And cherish y t which sleeth me with y e paine This is to me a louely aduersary whan y e pyte which longe on slepe doth tary Hath set the fyne of al my heuynesse Yet her comforte to me moost necessary Shal set my wyll more sure in stablenesse La dame The wofull wight what maye he thynke or say The contrary of al ioy and gladnesse A sicke bodye his thought is alway From hem that felen no sore nor sickenesse Thus hurtes bene of diuers busynesse which loue hath put to great hyndraunce And truth also put in forgetfulnesse whan they ful sore begyn to sigh askaunce Lamant Now god defende but he be harmelesse Of al worship or good that may befall That to werst tourneth by his lewdnesse A gyfte of grace or any thinge at all That his ladie vouchsafe vpon him call Or cherisheth him in honorable wise In that defaute what euer he be that fall Deserueth more than deth to suffre twyse La dame There is no iuge yset on suche trespace By whych of right loue may recouered be One curseth fast another doth manace Yet dyeth none as farre as I can se But kepe her course alway in one degre And euermore theyr labour doth encrease To brynge ladies by theyr great subtelte For others gylte in sorowe and disease Lamant Albeit so one doth so great offence And is not deed nor put to no iustyce Right well I wote him gayneth no defence But he must ende in ful mischeuous wyse And all euer sayd god wyl him dispyse For falshed is euer ful of cursedenesse that his worshyp may neuer haue interprise where it reygneth hath the wylfulnesse La dame Of that haue they no great fere now a daise Such as wyl say and maynteyne it therto That stedfast truth is nothing for to prayse In hem that kepe it longe in wele or wo Theyr busye hertes passen two and fro They be so wel
For yonge and olde and euery maner age It was a worlde to loken on her vysage Thus comynge forthe to syt in her estate In her presence we kneled down euerychone Presentynge our bylles and wote ye what Full humbly she toke hem by one and one whan we had done than came they al anone And dyd the same eche after her manere Knelyng at ones and rysynge all in fere And whaÌ„ this was don she set in her place The chamberlayne she dyd vnto her call And she goodly comyng vnto her a pace Of her entent knowyng nothyng at all Voyde backe the preace ê™ she vp to the wal Make large roume but loke ye do not tary And take these bylles to the secretarye The chamberlayne dyde her coÌ„maundement And came agayne as she was byd to do The secretarye there beyng present The bylles were delyuered her also Not onely ours but many other mo Than the lady wyth good aduyce agayne Anone wythall called her chamberlayne We woll ê™ she the fyrst thyng that ye do The secretarye ye do make come anone wyth her bylles and thus we wyll also In our presence she rede hem euerychon That we maye take good aduyce theron Of the ladyes that ben of oure counsayle Loke thys be done wythouten any fayle Whan the chamberlayne wyste of her enteÌ„t Anon she dyd the secretarye call Let your bylles ê™ she be here present My lady it wyll Madame ê™ she I shall And in presence she wyll ye hem call Wyth good wyll I am redy ê™ she At her pleasure whan she coÌ„maundeth me And vpon that was made an ordynaunce They y t came fyrst her bylles shulde be redde Full gentelly than sayd Perseueraunce Rayson it wyll they were sonest spedde Anone wythall vpon a tapet spredde The secretarye layde hem downe echone Our bylles fyrst she redde one by one The fyrst lady bearyng in her deuyse Sans que iamays thus wrote she on her byl Complaynyng sore and in full pytous wyse Of promesse made with faythful hert wyl And so broken ayenst all maner skyll wythout deserte alwayes on her partye In thys mater desyryng a remedy Her next folowing her word was iÌ„ this wise Vng sanz chauÌ„ger thus she dyd coÌ„playne though she had be guerdoned for her seruice Yet nothynge lyke as she that toke the payne wherfore she coude in no wyse her restrayne But in thys case sewe vntyll her presence As reason wolde to haue recompence So furthermore to speke of other twayne One of hem wrote after her fantasy Vncques puis leuer for to tel you playne Her complaynt was full pytous verely For as she sayd there was great reason why As I can remembre thys matere I shall you tell the processe all in fere Her byl was made complaynyng in her gyse That of her ioy her comforte and gladnesse was no surete for in no maner wyse She sayd therin no poynt of stablenesse Nowe yll nowe wele out of all sykernesse Full humbly desyrynge of her hygh grace Soone to shewe her remedy in thys cace Her felawe made her byll and thus she sayd In playnynge wyse there as she loued best whether she were wrothe or wele apayde She might nat se whan she wolde faynest And wrothe she was in verye ernest To tell her worde as ferforth as I wote Entierment vostre ryght thus she wrote And vpon that she made a great request wyth herte and wyl all that might be done As vntyll her that might redresse it best For in her mynd there might she fynd it sone The remedy of that whych was her boone Rehersynge that she had sayd before Besechynge her it myght be so nomore And in lyke wyse as they had done before The gentylwomen of our company Put her bylles and for to tell you more One of hem wrote cest sanz dire verely And her matere hole to specify wyth in her byll she put it in writynge And what it sayd ye shall haue knowynge It sayd god wote and that ful pytously Lyke as she was disposed in her herte No mysfortvne that she toke greuously Al one to her was the ioy and smerte Somtyme no thanke for al her good deserte Other comforte she wanted non comynge And so vsed it greued her nothynge Desyrynge her and lowly besechynge That she wolde for her seke a better way As she that had ben her dayes lyuynge Stedfast and trewe and wylbe alway Of her felawe somwhat I shal you saye whose byl was red nexte forthe withal And what it ment rehersen you I shal En diu est she wrote in her deuyse And thus she sayd withouten fayle Her trouthe myght be take in no wyse like as she thouÈt wherfore she had meruaile For trouth soÌ„tyme was wont to take auayle In euery matere but al that is ago The more pyte that it is suffred so Moche more there was wherof she shuld coÌ„playn But she thouÈt it to gret encoÌ„brauÌ„ce So moche to wryte and therfore in certayn In god and her she put al her affiaunce As in her worde is made a remembraunce Beseching her that she wolde in this cace Shewe vnto her the fauour of her grace The thirde she wrote rehersing her greuauÌ„ce Yea wote ye what a pitous thing to here For as me thouÈt she felte great dysplesauÌ„ce One miÈt right wel perceyue it by her chere And no wonder it sate her passynge nere Yet lothe she was to put it in wrytynge But nede wol haue course in euery thinge Soyes ensure this was her word certayne And thus she wrote in a lytell space There she loued her labour was in vayne For he was set all in another place Full humbly desyrynge in that cace Some good comforte her sorowe to appese That she myght lyue more at hertes ease The fourth surely me thought she liked wele As in her porte and in her behauynge And bien moneste as farre as I coude fele That was her word tyll her welbelongynge wherfore to her she prayed aboue all thynge Full hertely to say you in substaunce That she wolde sende her good continuaunce Ye haue rehersed me these bylles all But nowe let se somwhat of your entent It may so hap parauenture ye shall Nowe I pray you whyle I am here present Ye shall haue knowlege parde what I ment But thus I say in trouthe make no fable The case it selfe is inly lamentable And well I wote ye woll thynke the same Lyke as I say whan ye haue herde my byll Now good tell on I hate you by saint Iame Abyde a whyle it is nat yet my wyll Yet muste ye wete by reason and by skyll Sith ye haue knowlege of y t was don before And thus it is sayd without wordes more Nothynge so lefe as dethe to come to me For fynall ende of my sorowes and payne what shulde I more desyre as seme ye And ye knewe al aforne it for certayne I wote ye wolde and for to tell you playne without her
playnly I ne may For leuer I haue then to be alyue To dye sothly and it be to her paye Yea though it be thys same daye Or when that euer her lyst to deuyse Suffyseth me to dye in your seruyse And god y t knowest y e thoght of euery wyght Ryght as it is in euery thynge thou mayst se Yet er I dye wyth all my full myght Lowly I praye to graunt vnto me That ye goodly fayre freshe and fre whych onely slee me for defaute of rothe Or that I dye ye maye knowe my trouth For that in soth suffiseth me And she it knowe in euery circumstaunce And after I am wel payde that she If that her lyst of deth to do vengeaunce Vnto me that am vnder her ligraunce It sytte me not her dome to dysobeye But at her luste wylfully to deye wythout grutchynge or rebellyon In wyll or worde holy I assent Or any maner contradiction Fully to be at her commaundement And yf I dye in my testament My herte I sende and my spirite also what so euer she lyste wyth hem to do And alder laste to her womanhede And to her mercy me I recomaunde That lye nowe here betwyxte hope drede Abydynge playnly what she lyst coÌ„maunde For vtterly thys nys no demaunde welcome to me whyle me lasteth brethe Ryght at her choyse where it be lyfe or dethe In this maâ—er more what might I fayne Syth in her hande and in her wyll is all Bothe lyfe deth my ioye and al my payne And fynally my heste holde I shall Tyl my spirite by desteny fatall when that her lyst fro my body wende Haue here my trouth thus I make an ende And with that worde he gan sygh as sore Lyke as hys herte ryue wolde at wayne And helde hys peace spake no worde more But for to se hys wo and mortall payne The teres gonne fro myne eyen rayne Full pytously for very inwarde râ—the That I him saw so long wishing for trouth And all thys whyle my selfe I kepte close Amonge the bowes and my self gonne hyde Tyll at the last the wofull man arose And to a lodge wente there besyde where all the May hys custome was tabyde Sole to complayne of hys paynes kene From yere to yere vnder the bowes grene And for bycause that it drewe to the nyght And that the sonne his arke diurnall Ypassed was so that his persaunt light Hys bright bemes and hys stremes all were in the waues of the water fall Vnder the bordure of our occyan Hys chare of golde hys course so swyftly ran And whyle the twylyght the rowes rede Of Phebus lyght were deaurat alyte A penne I toke and gan me fast spede The wofull playnte of thys man to wryte worde by worde as he dyd endyte Lyke as I herde and coude hem to reporte I haue here set your hertes to disporte If ought be mysse laye the wyte on me For I am worthy for to beare the blame If any thynge mysse reported be To make this dytte for to seme lame Through myne vncoÌ„ning but for to sayn the same Lyke as this maÌ„ his complaynt dyd expresse I aske mercy and forgyuenesse And as I wrote me thought I sawe a ferre Ferre in the west lustely appere Esperus the goodly bryght sterre So glad so fayre so persaunt eke of chere I meane Venus wyth her bemes clere That heuy hertes onely to releue Is wonte of custome for to shewe at eue And I as fast fell adowne on my kne And euen thus to her gan I to prey O lady Venus so fayre vpon to se Let not this man for hys trouthe deye For that ioy thou haddest whan thou leye w t Mars thy knight whan Vulcanus fonde And with a chayne vnuysyble you bonde Togyder bothe twaye in the same whyle That all the courte aboue celestyall At your shame gan laughe and smyle Ah fayre lady wylly fonde at all Comforte to carefull o goddes immortall Be helpynge nowe and do thy dilygence To let the stremes of thyne influence Descende down in fortheryng of the trouth Namely of hem that lye in sorowe bounde shewe now thy miÈt on her wo haue routh Er false daunger sle hem and confounde And specially let thy myght be founde For to socoure what so that thou maye The trewe man that in the herber lay And all trewe forther for hys sake O glad sterre O lady Venus myne And cause hys lady hym to grace take Her herte of stele to mercy so enclyne Er that thy bemes go vp to declyne And er that thou nowe go fro vs adowne For that loue thou haddest to Adowne And whan she was gone to her rest I rose anone and home to bed wente For wery me thought it for the best Prayenge thus in all my best entente That all trewe that be wyth daunger shente wyth mercy may in release of her payne Recured be er Maye come efte agayne And for that I ne may no lenger wake Farewell ye louers all that be trewe Prayenge to god and thus my leue I take That er the sonne to morowe be rissen newe And er he haue ayen rosen hewe That eche of you may haue suche a grace Hys owne lady in armes to embrace I meane thus in all honeste wythout more ye may togyder speke what so ye lyst at good lyberte That eche may to other her herte breke On ialousyes onely to be wreke That hath so longe of his malyce and enuye werred trouthe with hys tyranny ¶ Lenuoye Pryncesse pleaseth it to your benygnyte Thys lytell dyte to haue in mynde Of womanhode also for to se Your man may your mercy fynde And pyte eke that long hath be behynde Let hym agayne be prouoked to grace For by my trouthe it is agaynst kynde False daunger to occupye hys place Go lytell quayre vnto my lyues quene And my very hertes souerayne And be ryght glad for she shall the sene Suche is thy grace but I alas in payne Am lefte behynde not to whom to playne For mercy ruthe grace and eke pyte Exiled be that I may not attayne Recure to fynde of myne aduersyte ¶ Explicit ¶ A preyse of women ALl tho that lyste of women euyll to speke And fayn of hem worse than they deserue I pray to god that her neckes to breke Or on some euyll dethe mote tho ianglers sterne For euery man were holden hem to serue And do hem worshyp honour and seruyce In euery maner that they best coude deuyse For we ouÈt fyrst to thynke on what manere they briÌ„g vs forth what payn they endure Fyrst in our byrth and syth fro yere to yere Howe busely they done theyr busy cure To kepe vs fro euery mysauenture In our youth whan we haue no myght Our selfe to kepe neyther by daye nor nyght Alas howe may we say on hem but we le Of whom we were fostred and ybore And ben al our succoure euer trew as stele And for our
sake full ofte they suffre sore wythout women were all our ioye lore wherfore we ought all women to obey In all goodnesse I can no more say This is well knowen and hath ben or thys That women ben cause of al lyghtnesse Of knighthode norture eschewyng al malis Encrease of worshyp and of al worthynesse Therto curteys and meke and grounde of all goodnesse Glad and mery and trewe in euery wyse That any gentyl herte can thynke or deuyse And though any wold trust to your vntruth And to your fayre wordes wold aught assent In good fayth me thinketh it were gret ruth That other women shold for her gylt be sheÌ„t That neuer knew ne wist nouÈt of her enteÌ„t Ne lyste not to here y e fayre wordes ye write whyche ye you payne fro day to day tendyte But who may be ware of your tales vntrew That ye so busyly paynt and endyte For ye wyll swere that ye neuer knewe Ne sawe the woman neyther moche ne lyte Saue onely her to whom ye had delyte As for to serue of all that euer ye sey And for her loue muste ye nedes dey ThaÌ„ wyl ye swere that ye knew neuer before what loue was ne his dredfull obseruaunce But nowe ye fele that he can wounde sore wherfore ye put you in to her gouernaunce whoÌ„ loue hath ordeyned you to serue do plesauÌ„ce w t all your miÈt your lytel lyues space whyche endeth sone but yf she do you grace And than to bedde wyll ye soone drawe And sone sicke ye wyll you than fayne And swere fast your lady hath you slawe And brouÈt you sodeynly in so hygh a payn That fro your deth may no maÌ„ you restrayn wyth a daungerous loke of her eyen two That to your dethe must ye nedes go Thus wyl ye morne thus wyll ye syghe sore As though your herte anon iÌ„ two wold brest And swere fast that ye may lyue no more Myne owne lady that myght yf ye lest Brynge myne herte somdele in to rest As yf you lyst mercy on me to haue Thus your vntrouth wyll euer mercy craue Thus wol ye playne tho ye nothyng smerte These innocent creatures for to begyle And swere to hem so wounded is your herte For her loue that ye may lyue no whyle Scarsly so longe as one might go a myle So hyeth dethe to brynge you to an ende But yf your souerayn lady lyst you to ameÌ„de And yf for routh she coÌ„forte you in any wyse For pyte of your false othes sere So y e innocent weneth y t it be as you deuyse And weneth your herte be as she may here Thus for to coÌ„fort somwhat do you chere Than woll these ianglers deme of her ful yl And sayne that ye haue her fully at your wyl Lo howe redy her tonges ben and prest To speke harme of women causelesse Alas why might ye not as wel say the best As for to deme hem thus gyltlesse In your herte ywis there is no gentylnesse that of your own gylte lyst thus womeÌ„ fame Now by my trouth me thynk ye be to blame For of women cometh this worldly wele wherfore we ought to worship heÌ„ euermore And though it mishap one we ouÈt for to hele For it is all through our false lore That day and night we payne vs euermore wyth many an othe these women to begyle wyth false tales and many a wycked wyle And yf falshede shulde be reckened and tolde In women iwys full trouthe were Not as in men by a thousande folde Fro all vyces twys they stande clere In any thyng that euer I coude of here But yf entysyng of these men it make That hem to flatteren connen neuer slake I wold fayne were wher euer ye coude here without mens tising what womeÌ„ dyd amys For ther ye may get heÌ„ ye lye fro yere to yere And many a gabbynge ye make to hem iwys For I coude neuer here ne knowen er thys where euer ye coude fynde in any place That euer women besought you of grace There ye you payne with al your ful might wyth all your herte and all your besynesse To pleasen hem bothe by day and nyght Prayeng hem of her grace and gentylnesse To haue pyte vpon your great distresse And y e they wolde on your payne haue routh And slee you not sens ye meane but trouh Thus may ye se that they ben fautelesse And innocent to all your werkes slye And all your craftes that touche falsnesse They know hem not ne may hem not espye So sweare ye that ye must nedes dye But yf they wolde of her womanheed Vpon you rewe er that ye be deed And than your lady and your hertes quene Ye call hem and therwyth ye sygh sore And say my lady I trowe that it be sene In what plyte that I haue lyued full yore But nowe I hope that ye woll no more In these paynes suffre me for to dwell For of all goodnesse iwys ye be the well Lo whiche a paynted processe can ye make These harmlesse creatures for to begyle And whan they slepe ye payne you to wake And to bethink you on many a wycked wyle But ye shal se the day y t ye shal curse y e whyle That ye so besily dyd your entent Hem to begyle that falshede neuer ment For this ye knowe wel though I wolde lye In women is all trouthe and stedfastnesse For in good faythe I neuer of hem sye But moche worshyp bounte and gentilnesse Right commyng fayre and ful of mekenesse Good and glad and lowly you ensure Is thys goodly angelyke creature And yf it happe a man be in disease She dothe her busynesse and her full payne wyth all her might him to comforte please If fro hys disease she might hym restrayne In worde ne dede iwys she wol not fayne But with al her might she doth her besinesse To brynge hym out of hys heuynesse Lo what gentyllesse these women haue If we coude knowe it for our rudenesse Howe besy they be vs to kepe and saue Bothe in heale and also in sycknesse And alway ryght sory for our distresse In euery maner thus shewe they routhe That in hem is all goodnesse and trouthe And syth we fynd in hem geÌ„tilnesse trouth worshyp bounte and kyndenesse euermore Let neuer this geÌ„tilesse through your slouth In her kynde trouthe be aught forlore That in woman is and hath ben ful yore For in reuerence of the heuens quene we ought to worshyp all women that bene For of all creatures y t euer were get borne This wote ye well a woman was the best By her was recouered y e blysse y t we had lorn And through y t woman shal we come to rest And ben ysaued yf that our selfe lest wherfore me thynketh yf that we had grace we oughten honour women in euery place Therfore I rede that to our lyues ende Fro thys tyme forth whyle y t we haue space
dyd this Eolus but he Toke out hys blacke trumpe of bras That fouler than the deuyll was And gan this trumpe for to blowe As all the worlde sholde ouerthrowe Throughout euery regioun wente this foule trumpes soun As sâ—â—yfte as a pellet out of a gonne whan fyre is in the pouder ronne And suche a smoke gan out wende Out of the foule trumpes ende Blacke blo grenysshe swartyshe rede As dothe where that men melte lede Lo all on hye from tewell And therto one thynge sawe I well That the ferther that it ranne The greter wexen it began As dothe the ryuer frome a well And it stanke as the pyt of hell Alas thus was her shame yrâ—nge And gyltlesse on euery tonge Tho came the thyrde company And gone vp to the dees to hye And downe on knees they fell anon And sayden we ben euerychon Folke that han full trewly Deserued fame ryghtfully And prayde you it myght be knowe Ryght as it is and forthe blowe I graunt ê™ she for nowe me lyste That your good workes shall be wyst And yet ye shall haue better loos Ryght in dispyte of all your foos Than worthy is and that anone Lette nowe ê™ she thy trumpe gone Thou Eolus that is so blake And out thyne other trumpe take That hyght Laude and blowe it so That through the wolde her fame go All easely and nat to fast That it be knowen at the last Full gladly lady myne he sayde And out hys trumpe of golde he brayde Anone and sette it to hys mouthe And blewe it eest west and southe And northe as loude as any thonder That euery wyght hath of it wonder So brode it ran or that it stene And certes all the brethe that went Out of hys trumpes mouthe smelde As men a potte full of baume helde Amonge a basket full of roses This fauour dyd he to her loses And ryght wyth this I gan espy There came the fourth company But certayne they were wonder fewe And gonne to standen on a rewe And sayden certes lady bright we haue done well wyth all oure myght But we ne kepe to haue fame Hyde our workes and our name For goddes loue for certes we Haue surely done it for bounte And for no maner other thyng I graunt you all your askyng ê™ she let your workes be deed Wyth that aboute I tourned my heed And sawe anon the fyfte route That to thys lady gan loute And downe on knees anone to fall And to her tho besoughten all To hyden her good werkes eke And sayd they yeue nat a leke For no fame ne suche renoun For they for contemplacioun And goddes loue had it wrought Ne of fame wolde they nought What ê™ she and be ye woode And wene ye for to do good And for to haue of that no fame Haue ye dispyte to haue my name Nay ye shall lyen euerychone Blowe thy trumpe and that anone ê™ she thou Eolus I hote And rynge these folkes workes by note That all the worlde may of it here And he gan blowe her loos so clere In hys golden clartoun That through the worlde went the soun All so kyndly and eke so softe That theyr fame was blowe a lofte Tho came the syxt companye And gan fast to Fame crye Ryght verily in thys manere They sayden mercy lady dere To tell certayne as it is we haue done neyther that ne thys But ydell all our lyfe hath be But nathelesse yet pray we That we may haue as good a fame And great renome and knowen name As they that haue do noble iestes And acheued all her questes As well of loue as other thyng All was vs neuer broche ne ryng Ne els what fro women sent Ne ones in her herte yment To maken vs onely frendly chere But mought temen vs on bere Yet let vs to the people seme Suche as the worlde may of vs deme That women louen vs for woode It shall do vs as moche good And to our herte as moche auayle The counterpeyse ease and trauayle As we had wone wyth labour For that is dere bought honoure At regarde of our great ease And yet ye muste vs more please Let vs be holde eke therto worthy wyse and good also And ryche and happy vnto loue For goddes loue that sytteth aboue Though we may nat the body haue Of women yet so god me saue Lette men glewe on vs the name Suffyseth that we haue the fame I graunt ê™ she by my trouthe Nowe Eolus wythouten slouthe Take out thy trumpe of golde ê™ she And blowe as they haue asked me That euery man wene hem at ease Though they go in full badde lease Thys Eolus gan it so blowe That through the worlde it was yknowe Tho came the seuenth route anone And fyll on knees euerychone And sayd lady graunt vs soone The same thyng the same boone That this next folke haue done Fye on you ê™ she euerychone Ye masty swyne ye ydel wretches Full of roten slowe tet ches what false theues where ye wolde Ben famed good and nothyng nolde Deserue why ne neuer thought Men rather you to hangen ought For ye be lyke the slepy catte That wolde haue fysh but wost thou what He woll nothyng wete hys clawes Yuell thrifte come to your iawes And on myne yf I it graunt Or do fauour you to auaunt Thou Eolus thou kyng of Trace Go blowe this folke a sory grace ê™ she anone and wost thou howe As I shall tell the ryght nowe Say these ben they that wolde honour Haue and do no kyns labour Ne do no good and yet haue laude And that men wende that beelle Isaude Ne coude hem nat of loue werne And yet she that grynt at querne Is al to good to ease her herte This Eolus anon vp sterte And with his blacke clarion He gan to blasen out a soun As lounde as belleth wynde in hel And eke therwith sothe to tel This sowne was so ful of iapes As euer mowes were in apes And that went al the worlde aboute That euery wight gan on hem shoute And for to laugh as they were wode Suche game founde they in her hode Tho came another company That had ydone the trechery The harme and great wickednesse That any herte couden gesse And prayed her to haue good fame And that she nolde do hem no shame But gyue hem loos and good renoun And do it blowe in claryoun Nay wys quod she it were a vyce Al be there in me no iustyce Me lyst nat to do it nowe Ne this I nyl graunt it you Tho came there leapyng in a route And gan clappen al aboute Euery man vpon the crowne That al the hall gan to sowne And sayd lady lete and dere we ben suche folkys as ye may here To tel al the tale a ryght we ben shrewes euery wyght And haue delyte in wickednesse As good folke haue in goodnesse And ioye to be knowen shrewes And ful of vyce and wicked thewes