Confessio AmantisPart 17 out of 17Of yonge wommen forto liere. Nou lete we this maiden hiere, And speke of Dionise ayein And of Theophile the vilein, 1500 Of whiche I spak of nou tofore. Whan Thaise scholde have be forlore, This false cherl to his lady Whan he cam hom, al prively He seith, "Ma Dame, slain I have This maide Thaise, and is begrave In prive place, as ye me biede. Forthi, ma dame, taketh hiede And kep conseil, hou so it stonde." This fend, which this hath understonde, 1510 Was glad, and weneth it be soth: Now herkne, hierafter hou sche doth. Sche wepth, sche sorweth, sche compleigneth, And of sieknesse which sche feigneth Sche seith that Taise sodeinly Be nyhte is ded, "as sche and I Togedre lyhen nyh my lord." Sche was a womman of record, And al is lieved that sche seith; And forto yive a more feith, 1520 Hire housebonde and ek sche bothe In blake clothes thei hem clothe, And made a gret enterrement; And for the poeple schal be blent, Of Thaise as for the remembrance, After the real olde usance A tumbe of latoun noble and riche With an ymage unto hir liche Liggende above therupon Thei made and sette it up anon. 1530 Hire Epitaffe of good assisse Was write aboute, and in this wise It spak: "O yee that this beholde, Lo, hier lith sche, the which was holde The faireste and the flour of alle, Whos name Thai5sis men calle. The king of Tyr Appolinus Hire fader was: now lith sche thus. Fourtiene yer sche was of Age, Whan deth hir tok to his viage." 1540 Thus was this false treson hidd, Which afterward was wyde kidd, As be the tale a man schal hiere. Bot forto clare mi matiere, To Tyr I thenke torne ayein, And telle as the Croniqes sein. Whan that the king was comen hom, And hath left in the salte fom His wif, which he mai noght foryete, For he som confort wolde gete, 1550 He let somoune a parlement, To which the lordes were asent; And of the time he hath ben oute, He seth the thinges al aboute, And told hem ek hou he hath fare, Whil he was out of londe fare; And preide hem alle to abyde, For he wolde at the same tyde Do schape for his wyves mynde, As he that wol noght ben unkinde. 1560 Solempne was that ilke office, And riche was the sacrifice, The feste reali was holde: And therto was he wel beholde; For such a wif as he hadde on In thilke daies was ther non. Whan this was do, thanne he him thoghte Upon his doghter, and besoghte Suche of his lordes as he wolde, That thei with him to Tharse scholde, 1570 To fette his doghter Taise there: And thei anon al redy were, To schip they gon and forth thei wente, Til thei the havene of Tharse hente. They londe and faile of that thei seche Be coverture and sleyhte of speche: This false man Strangulio, And Dionise his wif also, That he the betre trowe myhte, Thei ladden him to have a sihte 1580 Wher that hir tombe was arraied. The lasse yit he was mispaied, And natheles, so as he dorste, He curseth and seith al the worste Unto fortune, as to the blinde, Which can no seker weie finde; For sche him neweth evere among, And medleth sorwe with his song. Bot sithe it mai no betre be, He thonketh god and forth goth he 1590 Seilende toward Tyr ayein. Bot sodeinly the wynd and reyn Begonne upon the See debate, So that he soffre mot algate The lawe which Neptune ordeigneth; Wherof fulofte time he pleigneth, And hield him wel the more esmaied Of that he hath tofore assaied. So that for pure sorwe and care, Of that he seth his world so fare, 1600 The reste he lefte of his Caban, That for the conseil of noman Ayein therinne he nolde come, Bot hath benethe his place nome, Wher he wepende al one lay, Ther as he sih no lyht of day. And thus tofor the wynd thei dryve, Til longe and late thei aryve With gret distresce, as it was sene, Upon this toun of Mitelene, 1610 Which was a noble cite tho. And hapneth thilke time so, The lordes bothe and the comune The hihe festes of Neptune Upon the stronde at the rivage, As it was custumme and usage, Sollempneliche thei besihe. Whan thei this strange vessel syhe Come in, and hath his Seil avaled, The toun therof hath spoke and taled. 1620 The lord which of the cite was, Whos name is Athenagoras, Was there, and seide he wolde se What Schip it is, and who thei be That ben therinne: and after sone, Whan that he sih it was to done, His barge was for him arraied, And he goth forth and hath assaied. He fond the Schip of gret Array, Bot what thing it amonte may, 1630 He seth thei maden hevy chiere, Bot wel him thenkth be the manere That thei be worthi men of blod, And axeth of hem hou it stod; And thei him tellen al the cas, Hou that here lord fordrive was, And what a sorwe that he made, Of which ther mai noman him glade. He preith that he here lord mai se, Bot thei him tolde it mai noght be, 1640 For he lith in so derk a place, That ther may no wiht sen his face: Bot for al that, thogh hem be loth, He fond the ladre and doun he goth, And to him spak, bot non ansuere Ayein of him ne mihte he bere For oght that he can don or sein; And thus he goth him up ayein. Tho was ther spoke in many wise Amonges hem that weren wise, 1650 Now this, now that, bot ate laste The wisdom of the toun this caste, That yonge Taise were asent. For if ther be amendement To glade with this woful king, Sche can so moche of every thing, That sche schal gladen him anon. A Messager for hire is gon, And sche cam with hire Harpe on honde, And seide hem that sche wolde fonde 1660 Be alle weies that sche can, To glade with this sory man. Bot what he was sche wiste noght, Bot al the Schip hire hath besoght That sche hire wit on him despende, In aunter if he myhte amende, And sein it schal be wel aquit. Whan sche hath understonden it, Sche goth hir doun, ther as he lay, Wher that sche harpeth many a lay 1670 And lich an Angel sang withal; Bot he nomore than the wal Tok hiede of eny thing he herde. And whan sche sih that he so ferde, Sche falleth with him into wordes, And telleth him of sondri bordes, And axeth him demandes strange, Wherof sche made his herte change, And to hire speche his Ere he leide And hath merveile of that sche seide. 1680 For in proverbe and in probleme Sche spak, and bad he scholde deme In many soubtil question: Bot he for no suggestioun Which toward him sche couthe stere, He wolde noght o word ansuere, Bot as a madd man ate laste His heved wepende awey he caste, And half in wraththe he bad hire go. Bot yit sche wolde noght do so, 1690 And in the derke forth sche goth, Til sche him toucheth, and he wroth, And after hire with his hond He smot: and thus whan sche him fond Desesed, courtaisly sche saide, "Avoi, mi lord, I am a Maide; And if ye wiste what I am, And out of what lignage I cam, Ye wolde noght be so salvage." With that he sobreth his corage 1700 And put awey his hevy chiere. Bot of hem tuo a man mai liere What is to be so sibb of blod: Non wiste of other hou it stod, And yit the fader ate laste His herte upon this maide caste, That he hire loveth kindely, And yit he wiste nevere why. Bot al was knowe er that thei wente; For god, which wot here hol entente, 1710 Here hertes bothe anon descloseth. This king unto this maide opposeth, And axeth ferst what was hire name, And wher sche lerned al this game, And of what ken that sche was come. And sche, that hath hise wordes nome, Ansuerth and seith, "My name is Thaise, That was som time wel at aise: In Tharse I was forthdrawe and fed, Ther lerned I, til I was sped, 1720 Of that I can. Mi fader eke I not wher that I scholde him seke; He was a king, men tolde me: Mi Moder dreint was in the See." Fro point to point al sche him tolde, That sche hath longe in herte holde, And nevere dorste make hir mone Bot only to this lord al one, To whom hire herte can noght hele, Torne it to wo, torne it to wele, 1730 Torne it to good, torne it to harm. And he tho toke hire in his arm, Bot such a joie as he tho made Was nevere sen; thus be thei glade, That sory hadden be toforn. Fro this day forth fortune hath sworn To sette him upward on the whiel; So goth the world, now wo, now wel: This king hath founde newe grace, So that out of his derke place 1740 He goth him up into the liht, And with him cam that swete wiht, His doghter Thaise, and forth anon Thei bothe into the Caban gon Which was ordeigned for the king, And ther he dede of al his thing, And was arraied realy. And out he cam al openly, Wher Athenagoras he fond, The which was lord of al the lond: 1750 He preith the king to come and se His castell bothe and his cite, And thus thei gon forth alle in fiere, This king, this lord, this maiden diere. This lord tho made hem riche feste With every thing which was honeste, To plese with this worthi king, Ther lacketh him no maner thing: Bot yit for al his noble array Wifles he was into that day, 1760 As he that yit was of yong Age; So fell ther into his corage The lusti wo, the glade peine Of love, which noman restreigne Yit nevere myhte as nou tofore. This lord thenkth al his world forlore, Bot if the king wol don him grace; He waiteth time, he waiteth place, Him thoghte his herte wol tobreke, Til he mai to this maide speke 1770 And to hir fader ek also For mariage: and it fell so, That al was do riht as he thoghte, His pourpos to an ende he broghte, Sche weddeth him as for hire lord; Thus be thei alle of on acord. Whan al was do riht as thei wolde, The king unto his Sone tolde Of Tharse thilke traiterie, And seide hou in his compaignie 1780 His doghter and himselven eke Schull go vengance forto seke. The Schipes were redy sone, And whan thei sihe it was to done, Withoute lette of eny wente With Seil updrawe forth thei wente Towardes Tharse upon the tyde. Bot he that wot what schal betide, The hihe god, which wolde him kepe, Whan that this king was faste aslepe, 1790 Be nyhtes time he hath him bede To seile into an other stede: To Ephesim he bad him drawe, And as it was that time lawe, He schal do there his sacrifise; And ek he bad in alle wise That in the temple amonges alle His fortune, as it is befalle, Touchende his doghter and his wif He schal beknowe upon his lif. 1800 The king of this Avisioun Hath gret ymaginacioun, What thing it signefie may; And natheles, whan it was day, He bad caste Ancher and abod; And whil that he on Ancher rod, The wynd, which was tofore strange, Upon the point began to change, And torneth thider as it scholde. Tho knew he wel that god it wolde, 1810 And bad the Maister make him yare, Tofor the wynd for he wol fare To Ephesim, and so he dede. And whanne he cam unto the stede Where as he scholde londe, he londeth With al the haste he may, and fondeth To schapen him be such a wise, That he may be the morwe arise And don after the mandement Of him which hath him thider sent. 1820 And in the wise that he thoghte, Upon the morwe so he wroghte; His doghter and his Sone he nom, And forth unto the temple he com With a gret route in compaignie, Hise yiftes forto sacrifie. The citezeins tho herden seie Of such a king that cam to preie Unto Diane the godesse, And left al other besinesse, 1830 Thei comen thider forto se The king and the solempnete. With worthi knyhtes environed The king himself hath abandoned Into the temple in good entente. The dore is up, and he in wente, Wher as with gret devocioun Of holi contemplacioun Withinne his herte he made his schrifte; And after that a riche yifte 1840 He offreth with gret reverence, And there in open Audience Of hem that stoden thanne aboute, He tolde hem and declareth oute His hap, such as him is befalle, Ther was nothing foryete of alle. His wif, as it was goddes grace, Which was professed in the place, As sche that was Abbesse there, Unto his tale hath leid hire Ere: 1850 Sche knew the vois and the visage, For pure joie as in a rage Sche strawhte unto him al at ones, And fell aswoune upon the stones, Wherof the temple flor was paved. Sche was anon with water laved, Til sche cam to hirself ayein, And thanne sche began to sein: "Ha, blessed be the hihe sonde, That I mai se myn housebonde, 1860 That whilom he and I were on!" The king with that knew hire anon, And tok hire in his Arm and kiste; And al the toun thus sone it wiste. Tho was ther joie manyfold, For every man this tale hath told As for miracle, and were glade, Bot nevere man such joie made As doth the king, which hath his wif. And whan men herde hou that hir lif 1870 Was saved, and be whom it was, Thei wondren alle of such a cas: Thurgh al the Lond aros the speche Of Maister Cerymon the leche And of the cure which he dede. The king himself tho hath him bede, And ek this queene forth with him, That he the toun of Ephesim Wol leve and go wher as thei be, For nevere man of his degre 1880 Hath do to hem so mochel good; And he his profit understod, And granteth with hem forto wende. And thus thei maden there an ende, And token leve and gon to Schipe With al the hole felaschipe. This king, which nou hath his desir, Seith he wol holde his cours to Tyr. Thei hadden wynd at wille tho, With topseilcole and forth they go, 1890 And striken nevere, til thei come To Tyr, where as thei havene nome, And londen hem with mochel blisse. Tho was ther many a mowth to kisse, Echon welcometh other hom, Bot whan the queen to londe com, And Thaise hir doghter be hir side, The joie which was thilke tyde Ther mai no mannes tunge telle: Thei seiden alle, "Hier comth the welle 1900 Of alle wommannysshe grace." The king hath take his real place, The queene is into chambre go: Ther was gret feste arraied tho; Whan time was, thei gon to mete, Alle olde sorwes ben foryete, And gladen hem with joies newe: The descoloured pale hewe Is now become a rody cheke, Ther was no merthe forto seke, 1910 Bot every man hath that he wolde. The king, as he wel couthe and scholde, Makth to his poeple riht good chiere; And after sone, as thou schalt hiere, A parlement he hath sommoned, Wher he his doghter hath coroned Forth with the lord of Mitelene, That on is king, that other queene: And thus the fadres ordinance This lond hath set in governance, 1920 And seide thanne he wolde wende To Tharse, forto make an ende Of that his doghter was betraied. Therof were alle men wel paied, And seide hou it was forto done: The Schipes weren redi sone, And strong pouer with him he tok; Up to the Sky he caste his lok, And syh the wynd was covenable. Thei hale up Ancher with the cable, 1930 The Seil on hih, the Stiere in honde, And seilen, til thei come alonde At Tharse nyh to the cite; And whan thei wisten it was he, The toun hath don him reverence. He telleth hem the violence, Which the tretour Strangulio And Dionise him hadde do Touchende his dowhter, as yee herde; And whan thei wiste hou that it ferde, 1940 As he which pes and love soghte, Unto the toun this he besoghte, To don him riht in juggement. Anon thei were bothe asent With strengthe of men, and comen sone, And as hem thoghte it was to done, Atteint thei were be the lawe And diemed forto honge and drawe, And brent and with the wynd toblowe, That al the world it myhte knowe: 1950 And upon this condicion The dom in execucion Was put anon withoute faile. And every man hath gret mervaile, Which herde tellen of this chance, And thonketh goddes pourveance, Which doth mercy forth with justice. Slain is the moerdrer and moerdrice Thurgh verray trowthe of rihtwisnesse, And thurgh mercy sauf is simplesse 1960 Of hire whom mercy preserveth; Thus hath he wel that wel deserveth. Whan al this thing is don and ended, This king, which loved was and frended, A lettre hath, which cam to him Be Schipe fro Pentapolim, Be which the lond hath to him write, That he wolde understonde and wite Hou in good mynde and in good pes Ded is the king Artestrates, 1970 Wherof thei alle of on acord Him preiden, as here liege lord, That he the lettre wel conceive And come his regne to receive, Which god hath yove him and fortune; And thus besoghte the commune Forth with the grete lordes alle. This king sih how it was befalle, Fro Tharse and in prosperite He tok his leve of that Cite 1980 And goth him into Schipe ayein: The wynd was good, the See was plein, Hem nedeth noght a Riff to slake, Til thei Pentapolim have take. The lond, which herde of that tidinge, Was wonder glad of his cominge; He resteth him a day or tuo And tok his conseil to him tho, And sette a time of Parlement, Wher al the lond of on assent 1990 Forth with his wif hath him corouned, Wher alle goode him was fuisouned. Lo, what it is to be wel grounded: For he hath ferst his love founded Honesteliche as forto wedde, Honesteliche his love he spedde And hadde children with his wif, And as him liste he ladde his lif; And in ensample his lif was write, That alle lovers myhten wite 2000 How ate laste it schal be sene Of love what thei wolden mene. For se now on that other side, Antiochus with al his Pride, Which sette his love unkindely, His ende he hadde al sodeinly, Set ayein kinde upon vengance, And for his lust hath his penance. Lo thus, mi Sone, myht thou liere What is to love in good manere, 2010 And what to love in other wise: The mede arist of the servise; Fortune, thogh sche be noght stable, Yit at som time is favorable To hem that ben of love trewe. Bot certes it is forto rewe To se love ayein kinde falle, For that makth sore a man to falle, As thou myht of tofore rede. Forthi, my Sone, I wolde rede 2020 To lete al other love aweie, Bot if it be thurgh such a weie As love and reson wolde acorde. For elles, if that thou descorde, And take lust as doth a beste, Thi love mai noght ben honeste; For be no skile that I finde Such lust is noght of loves kinde. Mi fader, hou so that it stonde, Youre tale is herd and understonde, 2030 As thing which worthi is to hiere, Of gret ensample and gret matiere, Wherof, my fader, god you quyte. Bot in this point miself aquite I mai riht wel, that nevere yit I was assoted in my wit, Bot only in that worthi place Wher alle lust and alle grace Is set, if that danger ne were. Bot that is al my moste fere: 2040 I not what ye fortune acompte, Bot what thing danger mai amonte I wot wel, for I have assaied; For whan myn herte is best arraied And I have al my wit thurghsoght Of love to beseche hire oght, For al that evere I skile may, I am concluded with a nay: That o sillable hath overthrowe A thousend wordes on a rowe 2050 Of suche as I best speke can; Thus am I bot a lewed man. Bot, fader, for ye ben a clerk Of love, and this matiere is derk, And I can evere leng the lasse, Bot yit I mai noght let it passe, Youre hole conseil I beseche, That ye me be som weie teche What is my beste, as for an ende. Mi Sone, unto the trouthe wende 2060 Now wol I for the love of thee, And lete alle othre truffles be. The more that the nede is hyh, The more it nedeth to be slyh To him which hath the nede on honde. I have wel herd and understonde, Mi Sone, al that thou hast me seid, And ek of that thou hast me preid, Nou at this time that I schal As for conclusioun final 2070 Conseile upon thi nede sette: So thenke I finaly to knette This cause, where it is tobroke, And make an ende of that is spoke. For I behihte thee that yifte Ferst whan thou come under my schrifte, That thogh I toward Venus were, Yit spak I suche wordes there, That for the Presthod which I have, Min ordre and min astat to save, 2080 I seide I wolde of myn office To vertu more than to vice Encline, and teche thee mi lore. Forthi to speken overmore Of love, which thee mai availe, Tak love where it mai noght faile: For as of this which thou art inne, Be that thou seist it is a Sinne, And Sinne mai no pris deserve, Withoute pris and who schal serve, 2090 I not what profit myhte availe. Thus folweth it, if thou travaile, Wher thou no profit hast ne pris, Thou art toward thiself unwis: And sett thou myhtest lust atteigne, Of every lust thende is a peine, And every peine is good to fle; So it is wonder thing to se, Why such a thing schal be desired. The more that a Stock is fyred, 2100 The rathere into Aisshe it torneth; The fot which in the weie sporneth Fulofte his heved hath overthrowe; Thus love is blind and can noght knowe Wher that he goth, til he be falle: Forthi, bot if it so befalle With good conseil that he be lad, Him oghte forto ben adrad. For conseil passeth alle thing To him which thenkth to ben a king; 2110 And every man for his partie A kingdom hath to justefie, That is to sein his oghne dom. If he misreule that kingdom, He lest himself, and that is more Than if he loste Schip and Ore And al the worldes good withal: For what man that in special Hath noght himself, he hath noght elles, Nomor the perles than the schelles; 2120 Al is to him of o value: Thogh he hadde at his retenue The wyde world ryht as he wolde, Whan he his herte hath noght withholde Toward himself, al is in vein. And thus, my Sone, I wolde sein, As I seide er, that thou aryse, Er that thou falle in such a wise That thou ne myht thiself rekevere; For love, which that blind was evere, 2130 Makth alle his servantz blinde also. My Sone, and if thou have be so, Yit is it time to withdrawe, And set thin herte under that lawe, The which of reson is governed And noght of will. And to be lerned, Ensamples thou hast many on Of now and ek of time gon, That every lust is bot a while; And who that wole himself beguile, 2140 He may the rathere be deceived. Mi Sone, now thou hast conceived Somwhat of that I wolde mene; Hierafterward it schal be sene If that thou lieve upon mi lore; For I can do to thee nomore Bot teche thee the rihte weie: Now ches if thou wolt live or deie. Mi fader, so as I have herd Your tale, bot it were ansuerd, 2150 I were mochel forto blame. Mi wo to you is bot a game, That fielen noght of that I fiele; The fielinge of a mannes Hiele Mai noght be likned to the Herte: I mai noght, thogh I wolde, asterte, And ye be fre from al the peine Of love, wherof I me pleigne. It is riht esi to comaunde; The hert which fre goth on the launde 2160 Not of an Oxe what him eileth; It falleth ofte a man merveileth Of that he seth an other fare, Bot if he knewe himself the fare, And felt it as it is in soth, He scholde don riht as he doth, Or elles werse in his degre: For wel I wot, and so do ye, That love hath evere yit ben used, So mot I nedes ben excused. 2170 Bot, fader, if ye wolde thus Unto Cupide and to Venus Be frendlich toward mi querele, So that myn herte were in hele Of love which is in mi briest, I wot wel thanne a betre Prest Was nevere mad to my behove. Bot al the whiles that I hove In noncertein betwen the tuo, And not if I to wel or wo 2180 Schal torne, that is al my drede, So that I not what is to rede. Bot for final conclusion I thenke a Supplicacion With pleine wordes and expresse Wryte unto Venus the goddesse, The which I preie you to bere And bringe ayein a good ansuere. Tho was betwen mi Prest and me Debat and gret perplexete: 2190 Mi resoun understod him wel, And knew it was sothe everydel That he hath seid, bot noght forthi Mi will hath nothing set therby. For techinge of so wis a port Is unto love of no desport; Yit myhte nevere man beholde Reson, wher love was withholde, Thei be noght of o governance. And thus we fellen in distance, 2200 Mi Prest and I, bot I spak faire, And thurgh mi wordes debonaire Thanne ate laste we acorden, So that he seith he wol recorden To speke and stonde upon mi syde To Venus bothe and to Cupide; And bad me wryte what I wolde, And seith me trewly that he scholde Mi lettre bere unto the queene. And I sat doun upon the grene 2210 Fulfilt of loves fantasie, And with the teres of myn ije In stede of enke I gan to wryte The wordes whiche I wolde endite Unto Cupide and to Venus, And in mi lettre I seide thus. The wofull peine of loves maladie, Ayein the which mai no phisique availe, Min herte hath so bewhaped with sotie, That wher so that I reste or I travaile, 2220 I finde it evere redy to assaile Mi resoun, which that can him noght defende: Thus seche I help, wherof I mihte amende. Ferst to Nature if that I me compleigne, Ther finde I hou that every creature Som time ayer hath love in his demeine, So that the litel wrenne in his mesure Hath yit of kinde a love under his cure; And I bot on desire, of which I misse: And thus, bot I, hath every kinde his blisse. 2230 The resoun of my wit it overpasseth, Of that Nature techeth me the weie To love, and yit no certein sche compasseth Hou I schal spede, and thus betwen the tweie I stonde, and not if I schal live or deie. For thogh reson ayein my will debate, I mai noght fle, that I ne love algate. Upon miself is thilke tale come, Hou whilom Pan, which is the god of kinde, With love wrastlede and was overcome: 2240 For evere I wrastle and evere I am behinde, That I no strengthe in al min herte finde, Wherof that I mai stonden eny throwe; So fer mi wit with love is overthrowe. Whom nedeth help, he mot his helpe crave, Or helpeles he schal his nede spille: Pleinly thurghsoght my wittes alle I have, Bot non of hem can helpe after mi wille; And als so wel I mihte sitte stille, As preie unto mi lady eny helpe: 2250 Thus wot I noght wherof miself to helpe. Unto the grete Jove and if I bidde, To do me grace of thilke swete tunne, Which under keie in his celier amidde Lith couched, that fortune is overrunne, Bot of the bitter cuppe I have begunne, I not hou ofte, and thus finde I no game; For evere I axe and evere it is the same. I se the world stonde evere upon eschange, Nou wyndes loude, and nou the weder softe; 2260 I mai sen ek the grete mone change, And thing which nou is lowe is eft alofte; The dredfull werres into pes fulofte Thei torne; and evere is Danger in o place, Which wol noght change his will to do me grace. Bot upon this the grete clerc Ovide, Of love whan he makth his remembrance, He seith ther is the blinde god Cupide, The which hath love under his governance, And in his hond with many a fyri lance 2270 He woundeth ofte, ther he wol noght hele; And that somdiel is cause of mi querele. Ovide ek seith that love to parforne Stant in the hond of Venus the goddesse, Bot whan sche takth hir conseil with Satorne, Ther is no grace, and in that time, I gesse, Began mi love, of which myn hevynesse Is now and evere schal, bot if I spede: So wot I noght miself what is to rede. Forthi to you, Cupide and Venus bothe, 2280 With al myn hertes obeissance I preie, If ye were ate ferste time wrothe, Whan I began to love, as I you seie, Nou stynt, and do thilke infortune aweie, So that Danger, which stant of retenue With my ladi, his place mai remue. O thou Cupide, god of loves lawe, That with thi Dart brennende hast set afyre Min herte, do that wounde be withdrawe, Or yif me Salve such as I desire: 2290 For Service in thi Court withouten hyre To me, which evere yit have kept thin heste, Mai nevere be to loves lawe honeste. O thou, gentile Venus, loves queene, Withoute gult thou dost on me thi wreche; Thou wost my peine is evere aliche grene For love, and yit I mai it noght areche: This wold I for my laste word beseche, That thou mi love aquite as I deserve, Or elles do me pleinly forto sterve. 2300 Whanne I this Supplicacioun With good deliberacioun, In such a wise as ye nou wite, Hadde after min entente write Unto Cupide and to Venus, This Prest which hihte Genius It tok on honde to presente, On my message and forth he wente To Venus, forto wite hire wille. And I bod in the place stille, 2310 And was there bot a litel while, Noght full the montance of a Mile, Whan I behield and sodeinly I sih wher Venus stod me by. So as I myhte, under a tre To grounde I fell upon mi kne, And preide hire forto do me grace: Sche caste hire chiere upon mi face, And as it were halvinge a game Sche axeth me what is mi name. 2320 "Ma dame," I seide, "John Gower." "Now John," quod sche, "in my pouer Thou most as of thi love stonde; For I thi bille have understonde, In which to Cupide and to me Somdiel thou hast compleigned thee, And somdiel to Nature also. Bot that schal stonde among you tuo, For therof have I noght to done; For Nature is under the Mone 2330 Maistresse of every lives kinde, Bot if so be that sche mai finde Som holy man that wol withdrawe His kindly lust ayein hir lawe; Bot sielde whanne it falleth so, For fewe men ther ben of tho, Bot of these othre ynowe be, Whiche of here oghne nycete Ayein Nature and hire office Deliten hem in sondri vice, 2340 Wherof that sche fulofte hath pleigned, And ek my Court it hath desdeigned And evere schal; for it receiveth Non such that kinde so deceiveth. For al onliche of gentil love Mi court stant alle courtz above And takth noght into retenue Bot thing which is to kinde due, For elles it schal be refused. Wherof I holde thee excused, 2350 For it is manye daies gon, That thou amonges hem were on Which of my court hast ben withholde; So that the more I am beholde Of thi desese to commune, And to remue that fortune, Which manye daies hath the grieved. Bot if my conseil mai be lieved, Thou schalt ben esed er thou go Of thilke unsely jolif wo, 2360 Wherof thou seist thin herte is fyred: Bot as of that thou hast desired After the sentence of thi bille, Thou most therof don at my wille, And I therof me wole avise. For be thou hol, it schal suffise: Mi medicine is noght to sieke For thee and for suche olde sieke, Noght al per chance as ye it wolden, Bot so as ye be reson scholden, 2370 Acordant unto loves kinde. For in the plit which I thee finde, So as mi court it hath awarded, Thou schalt be duely rewarded; And if thou woldest more crave, It is no riht that thou it have." Venus, which stant withoute lawe In noncertein, bot as men drawe Of Rageman upon the chance, Sche leith no peis in the balance, 2380 Bot as hir lyketh forto weie; The trewe man fulofte aweie Sche put, which hath hir grace bede, And set an untrewe in his stede. Lo, thus blindly the world sche diemeth In loves cause, as tome siemeth: I not what othre men wol sein, Bot I algate am so besein, And stonde as on amonges alle Which am out of hir grace falle: 2390 It nedeth take no witnesse, For sche which seid is the goddesse, To whether part of love it wende, Hath sett me for a final ende The point wherto that I schal holde. For whan sche hath me wel beholde, Halvynge of scorn, sche seide thus: "Thou wost wel that I am Venus, Which al only my lustes seche; And wel I wot, thogh thou beseche 2400 Mi love, lustes ben ther none, Whiche I mai take in thi persone; For loves lust and lockes hore In chambre acorden neveremore, And thogh thou feigne a yong corage, It scheweth wel be the visage That olde grisel is no fole: There ben fulmanye yeres stole With thee and with suche othre mo, That outward feignen youthe so 2410 And ben withinne of pore assay. Min herte wolde and I ne may Is noght beloved nou adayes; Er thou make eny suche assaies To love, and faile upon the fet, Betre is to make a beau retret; For thogh thou myhtest love atteigne, Yit were it bot an ydel peine, Whan that thou art noght sufficant To holde love his covenant. 2420 Forthi tak hom thin herte ayein, That thou travaile noght in vein, Wherof my Court may be deceived. I wot and have it wel conceived, Hou that thi will is good ynowh; Bot mor behoveth to the plowh, Wherof the lacketh, as I trowe: So sitte it wel that thou beknowe Thi fieble astat, er thou beginne Thing wher thou miht non ende winne. 2430 What bargain scholde a man assaie, Whan that him lacketh forto paie? Mi Sone, if thou be wel bethoght, This toucheth thee; foryet it noght: The thing is torned into was; That which was whilom grene gras, Is welked hey at time now. Forthi mi conseil is that thou Remembre wel hou thou art old." Whan Venus hath hir tale told, 2440 And I bethoght was al aboute, Tho wiste I wel withoute doute, That ther was no recoverir; And as a man the blase of fyr With water quencheth, so ferd I; A cold me cawhte sodeinly, For sorwe that myn herte made Mi dedly face pale and fade Becam, and swoune I fell to grounde. And as I lay the same stounde, 2450 Ne fully quik ne fully ded, Me thoghte I sih tofor myn hed Cupide with his bowe bent, And lich unto a Parlement, Which were ordeigned for the nones, With him cam al the world at ones Of gentil folk that whilom were Lovers, I sih hem alle there Forth with Cupide in sondri routes. Min yhe and as I caste aboutes, 2460 To knowe among hem who was who, I sih wher lusty Youthe tho, As he which was a Capitein, Tofore alle othre upon the plein Stod with his route wel begon, Here hevedes kempt, and therupon Garlandes noght of o colour, Some of the lef, some of the flour, And some of grete Perles were; The newe guise of Beawme there, 2470 With sondri thinges wel devised, I sih, wherof thei ben queintised. It was al lust that thei with ferde, Ther was no song that I ne herde, Which unto love was touchende; Of Pan and al that was likende As in Pipinge of melodie Was herd in thilke compaignie So lowde, that on every side It thoghte as al the hevene cride 2480 In such acord and such a soun Of bombard and of clarion With Cornemuse and Schallemele, That it was half a mannes hele So glad a noise forto hiere. And as me thoghte, in this manere Al freissh I syh hem springe and dance, And do to love her entendance After the lust of youthes heste. Ther was ynowh of joie and feste, 2490 For evere among thei laghe and pleie, And putten care out of the weie, That he with hem ne sat ne stod. And overthis I understod, So as myn Ere it myhte areche, The moste matiere of her speche Was al of knyhthod and of Armes, And what it is to ligge in armes With love, whanne it is achieved. Ther was Tristram, which was believed 2500 With bele Ysolde, and Lancelot Stod with Gunnore, and Galahot With his ladi, and as me thoghte, I syh wher Jason with him broghte His love, which that Creusa hihte, And Hercules, which mochel myhte, Was ther berende his grete Mace, And most of alle in thilke place He peyneth him to make chiere With Eolen, which was him diere. 2510 Theses, thogh he were untrewe To love, as alle wommen knewe, Yit was he there natheles With Phedra, whom to love he ches: Of Grece ek ther was Thelamon, Which fro the king Lamenedon At Troie his doghter refte aweie, Eseonen, as for his preie, Which take was whan Jason cam Fro Colchos, and the Cite nam 2520 In vengance of the ferste hate; That made hem after to debate, Whan Priamus the newe toun Hath mad. And in avisioun Me thoghte that I sih also Ector forth with his brethren tuo; Himself stod with Pantaselee, And next to him I myhte se, Wher Paris stod with faire Eleine, Which was his joie sovereine; 2530 And Troilus stod with Criseide, Bot evere among, althogh he pleide, Be semblant he was hevy chiered, For Diomede, as him was liered, Cleymeth to ben his parconner. And thus full many a bacheler, A thousend mo than I can sein, With Yowthe I sih ther wel besein Forth with here loves glade and blithe. And some I sih whiche ofte sithe 2540 Compleignen hem in other wise; Among the whiche I syh Narcise And Piramus, that sory were. The worthy Grek also was there, Achilles, which for love deide: Agamenon ek, as men seide, And Menelay the king also I syh, with many an other mo, Which hadden be fortuned sore In loves cause. And overmore 2550 Of wommen in the same cas, With hem I sih wher Dido was, Forsake which was with Enee; And Phillis ek I myhte see, Whom Demephon deceived hadde; And Adriagne hir sorwe ladde, For Theses hir Soster tok And hire unkindely forsok. I sih ther ek among the press Compleignende upon Hercules 2560 His ferste love Deyanire, Which sette him afterward afyre: Medea was there ek and pleigneth Upon Jason, for that he feigneth, Withoute cause and tok a newe; Sche seide, "Fy on alle untrewe!" I sih there ek Deijdamie, Which hadde lost the compaignie Of Achilles, whan Diomede To Troie him fette upon the nede. 2570 Among these othre upon the grene I syh also the wofull queene Cleopatras, which in a Cave With Serpentz hath hirself begrave Alquik, and so sche was totore, For sorwe of that sche hadde lore Antonye, which hir love hath be: And forth with hire I sih Tisbee, Which on the scharpe swerdes point For love deide in sory point; 2580 And as myn Ere it myhte knowe, Sche seide, "Wo worthe alle slowe!" The pleignte of Progne and Philomene Ther herde I what it wolde mene, How Teres of his untrouthe Undede hem bothe, and that was routhe; And next to hem I sih Canace, Which for Machaire hir fader grace Hath lost, and deide in wofull plit. And as I sih in my spirit, 2590 Me thoghte amonges othre thus The doghter of king Priamus, Polixena, whom Pirrus slowh, Was there and made sorwe ynowh, As sche which deide gulteles For love, and yit was loveles. And forto take the desport, I sih there some of other port, And that was Circes and Calipse, That cowthen do the Mone eclipse, 2600 Of men and change the liknesses, Of Artmagique Sorceresses; Thei hielde in honde manyon, To love wher thei wolde or non. Bot above alle that ther were Of wommen I sih foure there, Whos name I herde most comended: Be hem the Court stod al amended; For wher thei comen in presence, Men deden hem the reverence, 2610 As thogh they hadden be goddesses, Of al this world or Emperesses. And as me thoghte, an Ere I leide, And herde hou that these othre seide, "Lo, these ben the foure wyves, Whos feith was proeved in her lyves: For in essample of alle goode With Mariage so thei stode, That fame, which no gret thing hydeth, Yit in Cronique of hem abydeth." 2620 Penolope that on was hote, Whom many a knyht hath loved hote, Whil that hire lord Ulixes lay Full many a yer and many a day Upon the grete Siege of Troie: Bot sche, which hath no worldes joie Bot only of hire housebonde, Whil that hir lord was out of londe, So wel hath kept hir wommanhiede, That al the world therof tok hiede, 2630 And nameliche of hem in Grece. That other womman was Lucrece, Wif to the Romain Collatin; And sche constreigned of Tarquin To thing which was ayein hir wille, Sche wolde noght hirselven stille, Bot deide only for drede of schame In keping of hire goode name, As sche which was on of the beste. The thridde wif was hote Alceste, 2640 Which whanne Ametus scholde dye Upon his grete maladye, Sche preide unto the goddes so, That sche receyveth al the wo And deide hirself to yive him lif: Lo, if this were a noble wif. The ferthe wif which I ther sih, I herde of hem that were nyh Hou sche was cleped Alcione, Which to Seyix hir lord al one 2650 And to nomo hire body kepte; And whan sche sih him dreynt, sche lepte Into the wawes where he swam, And there a Sefoul sche becam, And with hire wenges him bespradde For love which to him sche hadde. Lo, these foure were tho Whiche I sih, as me thoghte tho, Among the grete compaignie Which Love hadde forto guye: 2660 Bot Youthe, which in special Of Loves Court was Mareschal, So besy was upon his lay, That he non hiede where I lay Hath take. And thanne, as I behield, Me thoghte I sih upon the field, Where Elde cam a softe pas Toward Venus, ther as sche was. With him gret compaignie he ladde, Bot noght so manye as Youthe hadde: 2670 The moste part were of gret Age, And that was sene in the visage, And noght forthi, so as thei myhte, Thei made hem yongly to the sihte: Bot yit herde I no pipe there To make noise in mannes Ere, Bot the Musette I myhte knowe, For olde men which souneth lowe, With Harpe and Lute and with Citole. The hovedance and the Carole, 2680 In such a wise as love hath bede, A softe pas thei dance and trede; And with the wommen otherwhile With sobre chier among thei smyle, For laghtre was ther non on hyh. And natheles full wel I syh That thei the more queinte it made For love, in whom thei weren glade. And there me thoghte I myhte se The king David with Bersabee, 2690 And Salomon was noght withoute; Passende an hundred on a route Of wyves and of Concubines, Juesses bothe and Sarazines, To him I sih alle entendant: I not if he was sufficant, Bot natheles for al his wit He was attached with that writ Which love with his hond enseleth, Fro whom non erthly man appeleth. 2700 And overthis, as for a wonder, With his leon which he put under, With Dalida Sampson I knew, Whos love his strengthe al overthrew. I syh there Aristotle also, Whom that the queene of Grece so Hath bridled, that in thilke time Sche made him such a Silogime, That he foryat al his logique; Ther was non art of his Practique, 2710 Thurgh which it mihte ben excluded That he ne was fully concluded To love, and dede his obeissance. And ek Virgile of aqueintance I sih, wher he the Maiden preide, Which was the doghter, as men seide, Of themperour whilom of Rome; Sortes and Plato with him come, So dede Ovide the Poete. I thoghte thanne how love is swete, 2720 Which hath so wise men reclamed, And was miself the lasse aschamed, Or forto lese or forto winne In the meschief that I was inne: And thus I lay in hope of grace. And whan thei comen to the place Wher Venus stod and I was falle, These olde men with o vois alle To Venus preiden for my sake. And sche, that myhte noght forsake 2730 So gret a clamour as was there, Let Pite come into hire Ere; And forth withal unto Cupide Sche preith that he upon his side Me wolde thurgh his grace sende Som confort, that I myhte amende, Upon the cas which is befalle. And thus for me thei preiden alle Of hem that weren olde aboute, And ek some of the yonge route, 2740 Of gentilesse and pure trouthe I herde hem telle it was gret routhe, That I withouten help so ferde. And thus me thoghte I lay and herde. Cupido, which may hurte and hele In loves cause, as for myn hele Upon the point which him was preid Cam with Venus, wher I was leid Swounende upon the grene gras. And, as me thoghte , anon ther was 2750 On every side so gret presse, That every lif began to presse, I wot noght wel hou many score, Suche as I spak of now tofore, Lovers, that comen to beholde, Bot most of hem that weren olde: Thei stoden there at thilke tyde, To se what ende schal betyde Upon the cure of my sotie. Tho myhte I hiere gret partie 2760 Spekende, and ech his oghne avis Hath told, on that, an other this: Bot among alle this I herde, Thei weren wo that I so ferde, And seiden that for no riote An old man scholde noght assote; For as thei tolden redely, Ther is in him no cause why, Bot if he wolde himself benyce; So were he wel the more nyce. 2770 And thus desputen some of tho, And some seiden nothing so, Bot that the wylde loves rage In mannes lif forberth non Age; Whil ther is oyle forto fyre, The lampe is lyhtly set afyre, And is fulhard er it be queynt, Bot only if it be som seint, Which god preserveth of his grace. And thus me thoghte, in sondri place 2780 Of hem that walken up and doun Ther was diverse opinioun: And for a while so it laste, Til that Cupide to the laste, Forth with his moder full avised, Hath determined and devised Unto what point he wol descende. And al this time I was liggende Upon the ground tofore his yhen, And thei that my desese syhen 2790 Supposen noght I scholde live; Bot he, which wolde thanne yive His grace, so as it mai be, This blinde god which mai noght se, Hath groped til that he me fond; And as he pitte forth his hond Upon my body, wher I lay, Me thoghte a fyri Lancegay, Which whilom thurgh myn herte he caste, He pulleth oute, and also faste 2800 As this was do, Cupide nam His weie, I not where he becam, And so dede al the remenant Which unto him was entendant, Of hem that in Avision I hadde a revelacion, So as I tolde now tofore. Bot Venus wente noght therfore, Ne Genius, whiche thilke time Abiden bothe faste byme. 2810 And sche which mai the hertes bynde In loves cause and ek unbinde, Er I out of mi trance aros, Venus, which hield a boiste clos, And wolde noght I scholde deie, Tok out mor cold than eny keie An oignement, and in such point Sche hath my wounded herte enoignt, My temples and my Reins also. And forth withal sche tok me tho 2820 A wonder Mirour forto holde, In which sche bad me to beholde And taken hiede of that I syhe; Wherinne anon myn hertes yhe I caste, and sih my colour fade, Myn yhen dymme and al unglade, Mi chiekes thinne, and al my face With Elde I myhte se deface, So riveled and so wo besein, That ther was nothing full ne plein, 2830 I syh also myn heres hore. Mi will was tho to se nomore Outwith, for ther was no plesance; And thanne into my remembrance I drowh myn olde daies passed, And as reson it hath compassed, I made a liknesse of miselve Unto the sondri Monthes twelve, Wherof the yeer in his astat Is mad, and stant upon debat, 2840 That lich til other non acordeth. For who the times wel recordeth, And thanne at Marche if he beginne, Whan that the lusti yeer comth inne, Til Augst be passed and Septembre, The myhty youthe he may remembre In which the yeer hath his deduit Of gras, of lef, of flour, of fruit, Of corn and of the wyny grape. And afterward the time is schape 2850 To frost, to Snow, to Wind, to Rein, Til eft that Mars be come ayein: The Wynter wol no Somer knowe, The grene lef is overthrowe, The clothed erthe is thanne bare, Despuiled is the Somerfare, That erst was hete is thanne chele. And thus thenkende thoghtes fele, I was out of mi swoune affraied, Wherof I sih my wittes straied, 2860 And gan to clepe hem hom ayein. And whan Resoun it herde sein That loves rage was aweie, He cam to me the rihte weie, And hath remued the sotie Of thilke unwise fantasie, Wherof that I was wont to pleigne, So that of thilke fyri peine I was mad sobre and hol ynowh. Venus behield me than and lowh, 2870 And axeth, as it were in game, What love was. And I for schame Ne wiste what I scholde ansuere; And natheles I gan to swere That be my trouthe I knew him noght; So ferr it was out of mi thoght, Riht as it hadde nevere be. "Mi goode Sone," tho quod sche, "Now at this time I lieve it wel, So goth the fortune of my whiel; 2880 Forthi mi conseil is thou leve." "Ma dame," I seide, "be your leve, Ye witen wel, and so wot I, That I am unbehovely Your Court fro this day forth to serve: And for I may no thonk deserve, And also for I am refused, I preie you to ben excused. And natheles as for the laste, Whil that my wittes with me laste, 2890 Touchende mi confession I axe an absolucion Of Genius, er that I go." The Prest anon was redy tho, And seide, "Sone, as of thi schrifte Thou hast ful pardoun and foryifte; Foryet it thou, and so wol I." "Min holi fader, grant mercy," Quod I to him, and to the queene I fell on knes upon the grene, 2900 And tok my leve forto wende. Bot sche, that wolde make an ende, As therto which I was most able, A Peire of Bedes blak as Sable Sche tok and heng my necke aboute; Upon the gaudes al withoute Was write of gold, Por reposer. "Lo," thus sche seide, "John Gower, Now thou art ate laste cast, This have I for thin ese cast, 2910 That thou nomore of love sieche. Bot my will is that thou besieche And preie hierafter for the pes, And that thou make a plein reles To love, which takth litel hiede Of olde men upon the nede, Whan that the lustes ben aweie: Forthi to thee nys bot o weie, In which let reson be thi guide; For he may sone himself misguide, 2920 That seth noght the peril tofore. Mi Sone, be wel war therfore, And kep the sentence of my lore And tarie thou mi Court nomore, Bot go ther vertu moral duelleth, Wher ben thi bokes, as men telleth, Whiche of long time thou hast write. For this I do thee wel to wite, If thou thin hele wolt pourchace, Thou miht noght make suite and chace, 2930 Wher that the game is nought pernable; It were a thing unresonable, A man to be so overseie. Forthi tak hiede of that I seie; For in the lawe of my comune We be noght schape to comune, Thiself and I, nevere after this. Now have y seid al that ther is Of love as for thi final ende: Adieu, for y mot fro the wende." 2940 And with that word al sodeinly, Enclosid in a sterred sky, Venus, which is the qweene of love, Was take in to hire place above, More wiste y nought wher sche becam. And thus my leve of hire y nam, And forth with al the same tide Hire prest, which wolde nought abide, Or be me lief or be me loth, Out of my sighte forth he goth, 2950 And y was left with outen helpe. So wiste I nought wher of to yelpe, Bot only that y hadde lore My time, and was sori ther fore. And thus bewhapid in my thought, Whan al was turnyd in to nought, I stod amasid for a while, And in my self y gan to smyle Thenkende uppon the bedis blake, And how they weren me betake, 2960 For that y schulde bidde and preie. And whanne y sigh non othre weie Bot only that y was refusid, Unto the lif which y hadde usid I thoughte nevere torne ayein: And in this wise, soth to seyn, Homward a softe pas y wente, Wher that with al myn hol entente Uppon the point that y am schryve I thenke bidde whil y live. 2970 He which withinne daies sevene This large world forth with the hevene Of his eternal providence Hath mad, and thilke intelligence In mannys soule resonable Hath schape to be perdurable, Wherof the man of his feture Above alle erthli creature Aftir the soule is immortal, To thilke lord in special, 2980 As he which is of alle thinges The creatour, and of the kynges Hath the fortunes uppon honde, His grace and mercy forto fonde Uppon my bare knes y preie, That he this lond in siker weie Wol sette uppon good governance. For if men takyn remembrance What is to live in unite, Ther ys no staat in his degree 2990 That noughte to desire pes, With outen which, it is no les, To seche and loke in to the laste, Ther may no worldes joye laste. Ferst forto loke the Clergie, Hem oughte wel to justefie Thing which belongith to here cure, As forto praie and to procure Oure pes toward the hevene above, And ek to sette reste and love 3000 Among ous on this erthe hiere. For if they wroughte in this manere Aftir the reule of charite, I hope that men schuldyn se This lond amende. And ovyr this, To seche and loke how that it is Touchende of the chevalerie, Which forto loke, in som partie Is worthi forto be comendid, And in som part to ben amendid, 3010 That of here large retenue The lond is ful of maintenue, Which causith that the comune right In fewe contrees stant upright. Extorcioun, contekt, ravine Withholde ben of that covyne, Aldai men hierin gret compleignte Of the desease, of the constreignte, Wher of the poeple is sore oppressid: God graunte it mote be redressid. 3020 For of knyghthode thordre wolde That thei defende and kepe scholde The comun right and the fraunchise Of holy cherche in alle wise, So that no wikke man it dere, And ther fore servith scheld and spere: Bot for it goth now other weie, Oure grace goth the more aweie. And forto lokyn ovyrmore, Wher of the poeple pleigneth sore, 3030 Toward the lawis of oure lond, Men sein that trouthe hath broke his bond And with brocage is goon aweie, So that no man can se the weie Wher forto fynde rightwisnesse. And if men sechin sikernesse Uppon the lucre of marchandie, Compassement and tricherie Of singuler profit to wynne, Men seyn, is cause of mochil synne, 3040 And namely of divisioun, Which many a noble worthi toun Fro welthe and fro prosperite Hath brought to gret adversite. So were it good to ben al on, For mechil grace ther uppon Unto the Citees schulde falle, Which myghte availle to ous alle, If these astatz amendid were, So that the vertus stodyn there 3050 And that the vices were aweie: Me thenkth y dorste thanne seie, This londis grace schulde arise. Bot yit to loke in othre wise, Ther is a stat, as ye schul hiere, Above alle othre on erthe hiere, Which hath the lond in his balance: To him belongith the leiance Of Clerk, of knyght, of man of lawe; Undir his hond al is forth drawe 3060 The marchant and the laborer; So stant it al in his power Or forto spille or forto save. Bot though that he such power have, And that his myghtes ben so large, He hath hem nought withouten charge, To which that every kyng ys swore: So were it good that he ther fore First un to rightwisnesse entende, Wherof that he hym self amende 3070 Toward his god and leve vice, Which is the chief of his office; And aftir al the remenant He schal uppon his covenant Governe and lede in such a wise, So that ther be no tirandise, Wherof that he his poeple grieve, Or ellis may he nought achieve That longith to his regalie. For if a kyng wol justifie 3080 His lond and hem that beth withynne, First at hym self he mot begynne, To kepe and reule his owne astat, That in hym self be no debat Toward his god: for othre wise Ther may non erthly kyng suffise Of his kyngdom the folk to lede, Bot he the kyng of hevene drede. For what kyng sett hym uppon pride And takth his lust on every side 3090 And wil nought go the righte weie, Though god his grace caste aweie No wondir is, for ate laste He schal wel wite it mai nought laste, The pompe which he secheth here. Bot what kyng that with humble chere Aftir the lawe of god eschuieth The vices, and the vertus suieth, His grace schal be suffisant To governe al the remenant 3100 Which longith to his duite; So that in his prosperite The poeple schal nought ben oppressid, Wherof his name schal be blessid, For evere and be memorial. And now to speke as in final, Touchende that y undirtok In englesch forto make a book Which stant betwene ernest and game, I have it maad as thilke same 3110 Which axe forto ben excusid, And that my bok be nought refusid Of lered men, whan thei it se, For lak of curiosite: For thilke scole of eloquence Belongith nought to my science, Uppon the forme of rethoriqe My wordis forto peinte and pike, As Tullius som tyme wrot. Bot this y knowe and this y wot, 3120 That y have do my trewe peyne With rude wordis and with pleyne, In al that evere y couthe and myghte, This bok to write as y behighte, So as siknesse it soffre wolde; And also for my daies olde, That y am feble and impotent, I wot nought how the world ys went. So preye y to my lordis alle Now in myn age, how so befalle, 3130 That y mot stonden in here grace: For though me lacke to purchace Here worthi thonk as by decerte, Yit the symplesse of my poverte Desireth forto do plesance To hem undir whos governance I hope siker to abide. But now uppon my laste tide That y this book have maad and write, My muse doth me forto wite, 3140 And seith it schal be for my beste Fro this day forth to take reste, That y nomore of love make, Which many an herte hath overtake, And ovyrturnyd as the blynde Fro reson in to lawe of kynde; Wher as the wisdom goth aweie And can nought se the ryhte weie How to governe his oghne estat, Bot everydai stant in debat 3150 Withinne him self, and can nought leve. And thus forthy my final leve I take now for evere more, Withoute makynge any more, Of love and of his dedly hele, Which no phisicien can hele. For his nature is so divers, That it hath evere som travers Or of to moche or of to lite, That pleinly mai noman delite, 3160 Bot if him faile or that or this. Bot thilke love which that is Withinne a mannes herte affermed, And stant of charite confermed, Such love is goodly forto have, Such love mai the bodi save, Such love mai the soule amende, The hyhe god such love ous sende Forthwith the remenant of grace; So that above in thilke place 3170 Wher resteth love and alle pes, Oure joie mai ben endeles. Explicit iste liber, qui transeat, obsecro liber, Vt sine liuore vigeat lectoris in ore. Qui sedet in scannis celi det vt ista lohannis Perpetuis annis stet pagina grata Britannis, Derbeie Comiti, recolunt quem laude periti, Vade liber purus, sub eo requiesce futurus. [End of CONFESSIO AMANTIS]
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