endyte, and have many noble thinges fulfild; but certes, there

ben some that speken their poysye-mater in Frenche, of whiche

speche the Frenche men have as good a fantasye as we have

in hering of Frenche mennes English. And many termes there

ben in English, [of] whiche unneth we Englishmen connen declare

the knowleginge. How shulde than a Frenche man born suche

termes conne jumpere in his mater, but as the jay chatereth

English? Right so, trewly, the understanding of Englishmen

wol not strecche to the privy termes in Frenche, what-so-ever we

bosten of straunge langage. Let than clerkes endyten in Latin,

for they have the propertee of science, and the knowinge in that

facultee; and let Frenchmen in their Frenche also endyten their

queynt termes, for it is kyndely to their mouthes; and let us

shewe our fantasyes in suche wordes as we lerneden of our dames

tonge.

And although this book be litel thank-worthy for the leudnesse

in travaile, yet suche wrytinges excyten men to thilke thinges that

ben necessarie; for every man therby may, as by a perpetual

mirrour, seen the vyces or vertues of other, in whiche thing

lightly may be conceyved to eschewe perils, and necessaries to

cacche, after as aventures have fallen to other people or persons.

Certes, [perfeccion is] the soveraynest thing of desyre, and

moste †creatures resonable have, or els shulde have, ful appetyte

to their perfeccion; unresonable beestes mowen not, sith reson

hath in hem no werking. Than resonable that wol not is comparisoned

to unresonable, and made lyke hem. For-sothe, the

most soverayne and fynal perfeccion of man is in knowing of

a sothe, withouten any entent disceyvable, and in love of oon

very god that is inchaungeable; that is, to knowe and love his

creatour.

¶ Now, principally, the mene to bringe in knowleging and

loving his creatour is the consideracion of thinges made by the

creatour, wherthrough, by thilke thinges that ben made understonding

here to our wittes, arn the unsene privitees of god

made to us sightful and knowing, in our contemplacion and

understonding. These thinges than, forsoth, moche bringen us

to the ful knowleginge [of] sothe, and to the parfit love of the

maker of hevenly thinges. Lo, David sayth, 'thou hast delyted

me in makinge,' as who sayth, to have delyt in the tune, how god

hath lent me in consideracion of thy makinge.

Wherof Aristotle, in the boke de Animalibus, saith to naturel

philosophers: 'it is a greet lyking in love of knowinge their

creatour; and also in knowinge of causes in kyndely thinges.'

Considred, forsoth, the formes of kyndly thinges and the shap,

a greet kindely love me shulde have to the werkman that

hem made. The crafte of a werkman is shewed in the werke.

Herfore, truly, the philosophers, with a lyvely studie, many

noble thinges right precious and worthy to memory writen;

and by a greet swetande travayle to us leften of causes [of] the

propertees in natures of thinges. To whiche (therfore) philosophers

it was more joy, more lykinge, more herty lust, in

kyndely vertues and maters of reson, the perfeccion by busy

study to knowe, than to have had al the tresour, al the richesse,

al the vainglory that the passed emperours, princes, or kinges

hadden. Therfore the names of hem, in the boke of perpetual

memory, in vertue and pees arn writen; and in the contrarye, that

is to sayne, in Styx, the foule pitte of helle, arn thilke pressed

that suche goodnesse hated. And bycause this book shal be of

love, and the pryme causes of steringe in that doinge, with passions

and diseses for wantinge of desyre, I wil that this book be cleped

The Testament of Love.

But now, thou reder, who is thilke that wil not in scorne

laughe, to here a dwarfe, or els halfe a man, say he wil rende

out the swerde of Hercules handes, and also he shuld sette

Hercules Gades a myle yet ferther; and over that, he had

power of strengthe to pulle up the spere, that Alisander the

noble might never wagge? And that, passing al thinge, to ben

mayster of Fraunce by might, there-as the noble gracious Edward

the thirde, for al his greet prowesse in victories, ne might al yet

conquere?

Certes, I wot wel, ther shal be mad more scorne and jape

of me, that I, so unworthily clothed al-togider in the cloudy cloude

of unconninge, wil putten me in prees to speke of love, or els

of the causes in that matter, sithen al the grettest clerkes han

had ynough to don, and (as who sayth) †gadered up clene toforn

hem, and with their sharpe sythes of conning al mowen, and

mad therof grete rekes and noble, ful of al plentees, to fede me

and many another. Envye, forsothe, commendeth nought his

reson that he hath in hayne, be it never so trusty. And al-though

these noble repers, as good workmen and worthy their hyre,

han al drawe and bounde up in the sheves, and mad many

shockes, yet have I ensample to gadere the smale crommes,

and fullen my walet of tho that fallen from the borde among

the smale houndes, notwithstandinge the travayle of the

almoigner, that hath drawe up in the cloth al the remissailes,

as trenchours, and the relief, to bere to the almesse.

Yet also have I leve of the noble husbande BoËce, al-though

I be a straunger of conninge, to come after his doctrine, and

these grete workmen, and glene my handfuls of the shedinge

after their handes; and, if me faile ought of my ful, to encrese

my porcion with that I shal drawe by privitees out of the shocke.

A slye servaunt in his owne helpe is often moche commended;

knowing of trouth in causes of thinges was more hardyer in the

first sechers (and so sayth Aristotle), and lighter in us that han

folowed after. For their passing †studies han fresshed our wittes,

and our understandinge han excyted, in consideracion of trouth,

by sharpnesse of their resons. Utterly these thinges be no

dremes ne japes, to throwe to hogges; it is lyflich mete for

children of trouthe; and as they me betiden, whan I pilgrimaged

out of my kith in winter; whan the †weder out of mesure was

boystous, and the wylde wind Boreas, as his kind asketh, with

dryinge coldes maked the wawes of the occian-see so to aryse

unkyndely over the commune bankes, that it was in poynte to

spille al the erthe.

Thus endeth the Prologue; and here-after foloweth the

first book of the Testament of Love.

CHAPTER II.

Rehersinge these thinges and many other, without tyme

or moment of rest, me semed, for anguisshe of disese, that

al-togider I was ravisshed, I can not telle how; but hoolly all my

passions and felinges weren lost, as it semed, for the tyme; and

sodainly a maner of drede lighte in me al at ones; nought suche

fere as folk have of an enemy, that were mighty and wolde hem

greve or don hem disese. For, I trowe, this is wel knowe to many

persones, that otherwhyle, if a man be in his soveraignes presence,

a maner of ferdnesse crepeth in his herte, not for harme, but of

goodly subjeccion; namely, as men reden that aungels ben aferde

of our saviour in heven. And pardÈ, there ne is, ne may no

passion of disese be; but it is to mene, that angels ben adradde,

not by †ferdnes of drede, sithen they ben perfitly blissed, [but]

as [by] affeccion of wonderfulnesse and by service of obedience.

Suche ferde also han these lovers in presence of their loves, and

subjectes aforn their soveraynes. Right so with ferdnesse myn

herte was caught. And I sodainly astonied, there entred in-to

the place there I was logged a lady, the semeliest and most

goodly to my sight that ever to-forn apered to any creature; and

trewly, in the blustringe of her looke, she yave gladnesse and

comfort sodaynly to al my wittes; and right so she doth to

every wight that cometh in her presence. And for she was so

goodly, as me thought, myn herte began somdele to be enbolded,

and wexte a litel hardy to speke; but yet, with a quakinge

voyce, as I durste, I salued her, and enquired what she was;

and why she, so worthy to sight, dayned to entre in-to so foule

a dongeon, and namely a prison, without leve of my kepers.

For certes, al-though the vertue of dedes of mercy strecchen to

visiten the poore prisoners, and hem, after that facultees ben had,

to comforte, me semed that I was so fer fallen in-to miserye and

wrecched hid caytifnesse, that me shulde no precious thing

neighe; and also, that for my sorowe every wight shulde ben

hevy, and wisshe my recovery. But whan this lady had somdele

apperceyved, as wel by my wordes as by my chere, what thought

besied me within, with a good womanly countenance she sayde

these wordes:—

'O my nory, wenest thou that my maner be, to foryete my

frendes or my servauntes? Nay,' quod she, 'it is my ful entente

to visyte and comforte al my frendshippes and allyes, as wel in

tyme of perturbacion as of moost propertee of blisse; in me shal

unkyndnesse never be founden: and also, sithen I have so fewe

especial trewe now in these dayes. Wherefore I may wel at more

leysar come to hem that me deserven; and if my cominge may

in any thinge avayle, wete wel, I wol come often.'

'Now, good lady,' quod I, 'that art so fayre on to loke,

reyninge hony by thy wordes, blisse of paradys arn thy lokinges,

joye and comfort are thy movinges. What is thy name? How

is it that in you is so mokel werkinge vertues enpight, as me

semeth, and in none other creature that ever saw I with myne

eyen?'

'My disciple,' quod she, 'me wondreth of thy wordes and on

thee, that for a litel disese hast foryeten my name. Wost thou

not wel that I am Love, that first thee brought to thy service?'

'O good lady,' quod I, 'is this worship to thee or to thyn

excellence, for to come in-to so foule a place? PardÈ, somtyme,

tho I was in prosperitÈ and with forayne goodes envolved, I had

mokil to done to drawe thee to myn hostel; and yet many

werninges thou madest er thou liste fully to graunte, thyn home

to make at my dwelling-place; and now thou comest goodly by

thyn owne vyse, to comforte me with wordes; and so there-thorough

I ginne remembre on passed gladnesse. Trewly, lady,

I ne wot whether I shal say welcome or non, sithen thy coming

wol as moche do me tene and sorowe, as gladnesse and mirthe.

See why: for that me comforteth to thinke on passed gladnesse,

that me anoyeth efte to be in doinge. Thus thy cominge bothe

gladdeth and teneth, and that is cause of moche sorowe. Lo, lady,

how than I am comforted by your comminge'; and with that

I gan in teeres to distille, and tenderly wepe.

'Now, certes,' quod Love, 'I see wel, and that me over-thinketh,

that wit in thee fayleth, and [thou] art in pointe

to dote.'

'Trewly,' quod I, 'that have ye maked, and that ever wol

I rue.'

'Wottest thou not wel,' quod she, 'that every shepherde ought

by reson to seke his sperkelande sheep, that arn ronne in-to

wildernesse among busshes and perils, and hem to their pasture

ayen-bringe, and take on hem privy besy cure of keping? And

though the unconninge sheep scattred wolde ben lost, renning to

wildernesse, and to desertes drawe, or els wolden putte hem-selfe

to the swalowinge wolfe, yet shal the shepherde, by businesse and

travayle, so putte him forth, that he shal not lete hem be lost by

no waye. A good shepherde putteth rather his lyf to ben lost for

his sheep. But for thou shalt not wene me being of werse

condicion, trewly, for everich of my folke, and for al tho that to

me-ward be knit in any condicion, I wol rather dye than suffre

hem through errour to ben spilte. For me liste, and it me lyketh,

of al myne a shepherdesse to be cleped. Wost thou not wel,

I fayled never wight, but he me refused and wolde negligently go

with unkyndenesse? And yet, pardÈ, have I many such holpe

and releved, and they have ofte me begyled; but ever, at the ende,

it discendeth in their owne nekkes. Hast thou not rad how kinde

I was to Paris, Priamus sone of Troy? How Jason me falsed,

for al his false behest? How Cesars †swink, I lefte it for no tene

til he was troned in my blisse for his service? What!' quod she,

'most of al, maked I not a loveday bytwene god and mankynde,

and chees a mayde to be nompere, to putte the quarel at ende?

Lo! how I have travayled to have thank on al sydes, and yet list

me not to reste, and I might fynde on †whom I shulde werche.

But trewly, myn owne disciple, bycause I have thee founde, at al

assayes, in thy wil to be redy myn hestes to have folowed, and

hast ben trewe to that Margarite-perle that ones I thee shewed;

and she alwaye, ayenward, hath mad but daungerous chere;

I am come, in propre person, to putte thee out of errours, and

make thee gladde by wayes of reson; so that sorow ne disese shal

no more hereafter thee amaistry. Wherthrough I hope thou

shalt lightly come to the grace, that thou longe hast desyred, of

thilke jewel. Hast thou not herd many ensamples, how I have

comforted and releved the scholers of my lore? Who hath

worthyed kinges in the felde? Who hath honoured ladyes in

boure by a perpetuel mirrour of their tr[o]uthe in my service?

Who hath caused worthy folk to voyde vyce and shame? Who

hath holde cytees and realmes in prosperitÈ? If thee liste clepe

ayen thyn olde remembraunce, thou coudest every point of this

declare in especial; and say that I, thy maistresse, have be cause,

causing these thinges and many mo other.'

'Now, y-wis, madame,' quod I, 'al these thinges I knowe wel

my-selfe, and that thyn excellence passeth the understanding of

us beestes; and that no mannes wit erthely may comprehende thy

vertues.'

'Wel than,' quod she, 'for I see thee in disese and sorowe,

I wot wel thou art oon of my nories; I may not suffre thee so to

make sorowe, thyn owne selfe to shende. But I my-selfe come

to be thy fere, thyn hevy charge to make to seme the lesse. For wo

is him that is alone; and to the sorye, to ben moned by a sorouful

wight, it is greet gladnesse. Right so, with my sicke frendes I am

sicke; and with sorie I can not els but sorowe make, til whan

I have hem releved in suche wyse, that gladnesse, in a maner of

counterpaysing, shal restore as mokil in joye as the passed hevinesse

biforn did in tene. And also,' quod she, 'whan any of my

servauntes ben alone in solitary place, I have yet ever besied me

to be with hem, in comfort of their hertes, and taught hem to

make songes of playnte and of blisse, and to endyten letters of

rethorike in queynt understondinges, and to bethinke hem in what

wyse they might best their ladies in good service plese; and

also to lerne maner in countenaunce, in wordes, and in bering,

and to ben meke and lowly to every wight, his name and fame to

encrese; and to yeve gret yeftes and large, that his renomÈ may

springen. But thee therof have I excused; for thy losse and thy

grete costages, wherthrough thou art nedy, arn nothing to me

unknowen; but I hope to god somtyme it shal ben amended, as

thus I sayd. In norture have I taught al myne; and in curtesye

made hem expert, their ladies hertes to winne; and if any wolde

[b]en deynous or proude, or be envious or of wrecches acqueyntaunce,

hasteliche have I suche voyded out of my scole. For

al vyces trewly I hate; vertues and worthinesse in al my power

I avaunce.'

'Ah! worthy creature,' quod I, 'and by juste cause the name

of goddesse dignely ye mowe bere! In thee lyth the grace

thorough whiche any creature in this worlde hath any goodnesse.

Trewly, al maner of blisse and preciousnesse in vertue out of

thee springen and wellen, as brokes and rivers proceden from

their springes. And lyke as al waters by kynde drawen to the see,

so al kyndely thinges thresten, by ful appetyte of desyre, to drawe

after thy steppes, and to thy presence aproche as to their kyndely

perfeccion. How dare than beestes in this worlde aught forfete

ayenst thy devyne purveyaunce? Also, lady, ye knowen al the

privy thoughtes; in hertes no counsayl may ben hid from your

knowing. Wherfore I wot wel, lady, that ye knowe your-selfe that

I in my conscience am and have ben willinge to your service, al

coude I never do as I shulde; yet, forsothe, fayned I never to

love otherwyse than was in myn herte; and if I coude have made

chere to one and y-thought another, as many other doon alday

afore myn eyen, I trowe it wolde not me have vayled.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'haddest thou so don, I wolde not now

have thee here visited.'

'Ye wete wel, lady, eke,' quod I, 'that I have not played raket,

"nettil in, docke out," and with the wethercocke waved; and

trewly, there ye me sette, by acorde of my conscience I wolde

not flye, til ye and reson, by apert strength, maden myn herte to

tourne.'

'In good fayth,' quod she, 'I have knowe thee ever of tho

condicions; and sithen thou woldest (in as moch as in thee was)

a made me privy of thy counsayl and juge of thy conscience

(though I forsook it in tho dayes til I saw better my tyme), wolde

never god that I shuld now fayle; but ever I wol be redy

witnessing thy sothe, in what place that ever I shal, ayenst al tho

that wol the contrary susteyne. And for as moche as to me is

naught unknowen ne hid of thy privy herte, but al hast thou tho

thinges mad to me open at the ful, that hath caused my cominge

in-to this prison, to voyde the webbes of thyne eyen, to make thee

clerely to see the errours thou hast ben in. And bycause that

men ben of dyvers condicions, some adradde to saye a sothe, and

some for a sothe anon redy to fighte, and also that I may not my-selfe

ben in place to withsaye thilke men that of thee speken

otherwyse than the sothe, I wol and I charge thee, in vertue of

obedience that thou to me owest, to wryten my wordes and sette

hem in wrytinges, that they mowe, as my witnessinge, ben

noted among the people. For bookes written neyther dreden ne

shamen, ne stryve conne; but only shewen the entente of the

wryter, and yeve remembraunce to the herer; and if any wol in

thy presence saye any-thing to tho wryters, loke boldely; truste on

Mars to answere at the ful. For certes, I shal him enfourme of

al the trouthe in thy love, with thy conscience; so that of his

helpe thou shalt not varye at thy nede. I trowe the strongest and

the beste that may be founde wol not transverse thy wordes;

wherof than woldest thou drede?'

CHAPTER III.

Gretly was I tho gladded of these wordes, and (as who

saith) wexen somdel light in herte; both for the auctoritÈ

of witnesse, and also for sikernesse of helpe of the forsayd

beheste, and sayd:—

'Trewly, lady, now am I wel gladded through comfort of

your wordes. Be it now lykinge unto your nobley to shewe

whiche folk diffame your servauntes, sithe your service ought

above al other thinges to ben commended.'

'Yet,' quod she, 'I see wel thy soule is not al out of the

amased cloude. Thee were better to here thing that thee might

lighte out of thyn hevy charge and after knowing of thyn owne

helpe, than to stirre swete wordes and such resons to here;

for in a thoughtful soule (and namely suche oon as thou art)

wol not yet suche thinges sinken. Come of, therfore, and let

me seen thy hevy charge, that I may the lightlier for thy comfort

purveye.'

'Now, certes, lady,' quod I, 'the moste comfort I might have

were utterly to wete me be sure in herte of that Margaryte I

serve; and so I thinke to don with al mightes, whyle my lyfe

dureth.'

'Than,' quod she, 'mayst thou therafter, in suche wyse that

misplesaunce ne entre?'

'In good fayth,' quod I, 'there shal no misplesaunce be

caused through trespace on my syde.'

'And I do thee to weten,' quod she, 'I sette never yet person

to serve in no place (but-if he caused the contrary in defautes

and trespaces) that he ne spedde of his service.'

'Myn owne erthly lady,' quod I tho, 'and yet remembre to

your worthinesse how long sithen, by many revolving of yeres,

in tyme whan Octobre his leve ginneth take and Novembre

sheweth him to sight, whan bernes ben ful of goodes as is the

nutte on every halke; and than good lond-tillers ginne shape

for the erthe with greet travayle, to bringe forth more corn to

mannes sustenaunce, ayenst the nexte yeres folowing. In suche

tyme of plentee he that hath an home and is wyse, list not to

wander mervayles to seche, but he be constrayned or excited.

Oft the lothe thing is doon, by excitacion of other mannes

opinion, whiche wolden fayne have myn abydinge. [Tho gan I]

take in herte of luste to travayle and see the wynding of the erthe

in that tyme of winter. By woodes that large stretes wern in,

by smale pathes that swyn and hogges hadden made, as lanes

with ladels their maste to seche, I walked thinkinge alone

a wonder greet whyle; and the grete beestes that the woode

haunten and adorneth al maner forestes, and heerdes gonne to

wilde. Than, er I was war, I neyghed to a see-banke; and for

ferde of the beestes "shipcraft" I cryde. For, lady, I trowe ye

wete wel your-selfe, nothing is werse than the beestes that

shulden ben tame, if they cacche her wildenesse, and ginne ayen

waxe ramage. Thus forsothe was I a-ferd, and to shippe me

hyed.

Than were there y-nowe to lacche myn handes, and drawe me

to shippe, of whiche many I knew wel the names. Sight was

the first, Lust was another, Thought was the thirde; and Wil eke

was there a mayster; these broughten me within-borde of this

shippe of Traveyle. So whan the sayl was sprad, and this ship

gan to move, the wind and water gan for to ryse, and overthwartly

to turne the welken. The wawes semeden as they kiste togider;

but often under colour of kissinge is mokel old hate prively

closed and kept. The storm so straungely and in a devouring

maner gan so faste us assayle, that I supposed the date of my

deth shulde have mad there his ginning. Now up, now downe,

now under the wawe and now aboven was my ship a greet

whyle. And so by mokel duresse of †weders and of stormes,

and with greet avowing [of] pilgrimages, I was driven to an yle,

where utterly I wende first to have be rescowed; but trewly, †at

the first ginning, it semed me so perillous the haven to cacche,

that but thorow grace I had ben comforted, of lyfe I was ful

dispayred. Trewly, lady, if ye remembre a-right of al maner

thinges, your-selfe cam hastely to sene us see-driven, and to

weten what we weren. But first ye were deynous of chere, after

whiche ye gonne better a-lighte; and ever, as me thought, ye

lived in greet drede of disese; it semed so by your chere.

And whan I was certifyed of your name, the lenger I loked in

you, the more I you goodly dradde; and ever myn herte on you

opened the more; and so in a litel tyme my ship was out of

mynde. But, lady, as ye me ladde, I was war bothe of beestes

and of fisshes, a greet nombre thronging togider; among whiche

a muskel, in a blewe shel, had enclosed a Margaryte-perle, the

moste precious and best that ever to-forn cam in my sight.

And ye tolden your-selfe, that ilke jewel in his kinde was so

good and so vertuous, that her better shulde I never finde, al

sought I ther-after to the worldes ende. And with that I held

my pees a greet whyle; and ever sithen I have me bethought on

the man that sought the precious Margarytes; and whan he had

founden oon to his lyking, he solde al his good to bye that jewel.

Y-wis, thought I, (and yet so I thinke), now have I founden the

jewel that myn herte desyreth; wherto shulde I seche further?

Trewly, now wol I stinte, and on this Margaryte I sette me for

ever: now than also, sithen I wiste wel it was your wil that

I shulde so suche a service me take; and so to desyre that thing,

of whiche I never have blisse. There liveth non but he hath

disese; your might than that brought me to suche service, that to

me is cause of sorowe and of joye. I wonder of your worde that

ye sayn, "to bringen men in-to joye"; and, pardÈ, ye wete wel

that defaut ne trespace may not resonably ben put to me-wardes,

as fer as my conscience knoweth.

But of my disese me list now a whyle to speke, and to enforme

you in what maner of blisse ye have me thronge. For truly

I wene, that al gladnesse, al joye, and al mirthe is beshet under

locke, and the keye throwe in suche place that it may not be

founde. My brenning wo hath altred al my hewe. Whan

I shulde slepe, I walowe and I thinke, and me disporte. Thus

combred, I seme that al folk had me mased. Also, lady myne,

desyre hath longe dured, some speking to have; or els at the lest

have ben enmoysed with sight; and for wantinge of these thinges

my mouth wolde, and he durst, pleyne right sore, sithen yvels

for my goodnesse arn manyfolde to me yolden. I wonder, lady,

trewly, save evermore your reverence, how ye mowe, for shame,

suche thinges suffre on your servaunt to be so multiplied.

Wherfore, kneling with a lowe herte, I pray you to rue on this

caytif, that of nothing now may serve. Good lady, if ye liste,

now your help to me shewe, that am of your privyest servantes

at al assayes in this tyme, and under your winges of proteccion.

No help to me-wardes is shapen; how shal than straungers in

any wyse after socour loke, whan I, that am so privy, yet of helpe

I do fayle? Further may I not, but thus in this prison abyde;

what bondes and chaynes me holden, lady, ye see wel your-selfe.

A renyant forjuged hath not halfe the care. But thus, syghing

and sobbing, I wayle here alone; and nere it for comfort of your

presence, right here wolde I sterve. And yet a litel am I gladded,

that so goodly suche grace and non hap have I hent, graciously

to fynde the precious Margarite, that (al other left) men shulde

bye, if they shulde therfore selle al her substaunce. Wo is me,

that so many let-games and purpose-brekers ben maked wayters,

suche prisoners as I am to overloke and to hinder; and, for

suche lettours, it is hard any suche jewel to winne. Is this, lady,

an honour to thy deitee? Me thinketh, by right, suche people

shulde have no maistrye, ne ben overlokers over none of thy

servauntes. Trewly, were it leful unto you, to al the goddes

wolde I playne, that ye rule your devyne purveyaunce amonges

your servantes nothing as ye shulde. Also, lady, my moeble is

insuffysaunt to countervayle the price of this jewel, or els to

make th'eschange. Eke no wight is worthy suche perles to were

but kinges or princes or els their peres. This jewel, for vertue,

wold adorne and make fayre al a realme; the nobley of vertue is

so moche, that her goodnesse overal is commended. Who is it

that wolde not wayle, but he might suche richesse have at his

wil? The vertue therof out of this prison may me deliver, and

naught els. And if I be not ther-thorow holpen, I see my-selfe

withouten recovery. Although I might hence voyde, yet wolde

I not; I wolde abyde the day that destenee hath me ordeyned,

whiche I suppose is without amendement; so sore is my herte

bounden, that I may thinken non other. Thus strayte, lady,

hath sir Daunger laced me in stockes, I leve it be not your wil;

and for I see you taken so litel hede, as me thinketh, and wol

not maken by your might the vertue in mercy of the Margaryte

on me for to strecche, so as ye mowe wel in case that you liste,

my blisse and my mirthe arn feld; sicknesse and sorowe ben

alwaye redy. The cope of tene is wounde aboute al my body,

that stonding is me best; unneth may I ligge for pure misesy

sorowe. And yet al this is litel ynough to be the ernest-silver in

forwarde of this bargayne; for treble-folde so mokel muste I suffer

er tyme come of myn ese. For he is worthy no welthe, that may

no wo suffer. And certes, I am hevy to thinke on these thinges;

but who shal yeve me water ynough to drinke, lest myn eyen

drye, for renning stremes of teres? Who shal waylen with me

myn owne happy hevinesse? Who shal counsaile me now in

my lyking tene, and in my goodly harse? I not. For ever the

more I brenne, the more I coveyte; the more that I sorow, the

more thrist I in gladnesse. Who shal than yeve me a contrarious

drink, to stanche the thurste of my blisful bitternesse? Lo, thus

I brenne and I drenche; I shiver and I swete. To this reversed

yvel was never yet ordeyned salve; forsoth al †leches ben unconning,

save the Margaryte alone, any suche remedye to purveye.'

CHAPTER IV.

And with these wordes I brast out to wepe, that every teere

of myne eyen, for greetnesse semed they boren out the bal of

my sight, and that al the water had ben out-ronne. Than thought

me that Love gan a litel to hevye for miscomfort of my chere;

and gan soberly and in esy maner speke, wel avysinge what

she sayd. Comenly the wyse speken esily and softe for many

skilles. Oon is, their wordes are the better bileved; and also, in

esy spekinge, avysement men may cacche, what to putte forth

and what to holden in. And also, the auctoritÈ of esy wordes is

the more; and eke, they yeven the more understandinge to other

intencion of the mater. Right so this lady esely and in a softe

maner gan say these wordes.

¶ 'Mervayle,' quod she, 'greet it is, that by no maner of semblaunt,

as fer as I can espye, thou list not to have any recour;

but ever thou playnest and sorowest, and wayes of remedye, for

folisshe wilfulnesse, thee list not to seche. But enquyre of thy

next frendes, that is, thyne inwit and me that have ben thy

maystresse, and the recour and fyne of thy disese; [f]or of disese is

gladnesse and joy, with a ful †vessel so helded, that it quencheth

the felinge of the firste tenes. But thou that were wont not only

these thinges remembre in thyne herte, but also fooles therof to

enfourmen, in adnullinge of their errours and distroying of their

derke opinions, and in comfort of their sere thoughtes; now canst

thou not ben comfort of thyn owne soule, in thinking of these

thinges. O where hast thou be so longe commensal, that hast so

mikel eeten of the potages of foryetfulnesse, and dronken so of

ignorance, that the olde souking[es] whiche thou haddest of me

arn amaystred and lorn fro al maner of knowing? O, this is

a worthy person to helpe other, that can not counsayle him-selfe!'

And with these wordes, for pure and stronge shame, I wox al

reed.

And she than, seing me so astonyed by dyvers stoundes,

sodainly (which thing kynde hateth) gan deliciously me comforte

with sugred wordes, putting me in ful hope that I shulde the

Margarite getten, if I folowed her hestes; and gan with a fayre

clothe to wypen the teres that hingen on my chekes; and than

sayd I in this wyse.

'Now, wel of wysdom and of al welthe, withouten thee may

nothing ben lerned; thou berest the keyes of al privy thinges.

In vayne travayle men to cacche any stedship, but-if ye, lady,

first the locke unshet. Ye, lady, lerne us the wayes and the

by-pathes to heven. Ye, lady, maken al the hevenly bodyes

goodly and benignely to don her cours, that governen us beestes

here on erthe. Ye armen your servauntes ayenst al debates with

imperciable harneys; ye setten in her hertes insuperable blood of

hardinesse; ye leden hem to the parfit good. Yet al thing

desyreth ye werne no man of helpe, that †wol don your

lore. Graunt me now a litel of your grace, al my sorowes

to cese.'

'Myne owne servaunt,' quod she, 'trewly thou sittest nye

myne herte; and thy badde chere gan sorily me greve. But

amonge thy playning wordes, me thought, thou allegest thinges to

be letting of thyne helpinge and thy grace to hinder; wherthrough,

me thinketh, that wanhope is crope thorough thyn hert. God

forbid that nyse unthrifty thought shulde come in thy mynde,

thy wittes to trouble; sithen every thing in coming is contingent.

Wherfore make no more thy proposicion by an impossible.

But now, I praye thee reherse me ayen tho thinges that

thy mistrust causen; and thilke thinges I thinke by reson to

distroyen, and putte ful hope in thyn herte. What understondest

thou there,' quod she, 'by that thou saydest, "many let-games

are thyn overlokers?" And also by "that thy moeble is insuffysaunt"?

I not what thou therof menest.'

'Trewly,' quod I, 'by the first I say, that janglers evermore

arn spekinge rather of yvel than of good; for every age of man

rather enclyneth to wickednesse, than any goodnesse to avaunce.

Also false wordes springen so wyde, by the stering of false lying

tonges, that fame als swiftely flyeth to her eres and sayth many

wicked tales; and as soone shal falsenesse ben leved as tr[o]uthe,

for al his gret sothnesse.

'Now by that other,' quod I, 'me thinketh thilke jewel so

precious, that to no suche wrecche as I am wolde vertue therof

extende; and also I am to feble in worldly joyes, any suche

jewel to countrevayle. For suche people that worldly joyes han

at her wil ben sette at the highest degree, and most in reverence

ben accepted. For false wening maketh felicitÈ therin to be

supposed; but suche caytives as I am evermore ben hindred.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'take good hede, and I shal by reson to

thee shewen, that al these thinges mowe nat lette thy purpos

by the leest point that any wight coude pricke.

CHAPTER VI.

Ever,' quod she, 'hath the people in this worlde desyred

to have had greet name in worthinesse, and hated foule

to bere any [en]fame; and that is oon of the objeccions thou

alegest to be ayen thyne hertely desyre.'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod I; 'and that, so comenly, the people wol

lye, and bringe aboute suche enfame.'

'Now,' quod she, 'if men with lesinges putte on thee enfame,

wenest thy-selfe therby ben enpeyred? That wening is wrong;

see why; for as moche as they lyen, thy meryte encreseth, and

make[th] thee ben more worthy, to hem that knowen of the soth;

by what thing thou art apeyred, that in so mokil thou art encresed

of thy beloved frendes. And sothly, a wounde of thy frende [is] to

thee lasse harm, ye, sir, and better than a fals kissing in disceyvable

glosing of thyne enemy; above that than, to be wel with thy

frende maketh [voyd] suche enfame. Ergo, thou art encresed

and not apeyred.'

'Lady,' quod I, 'somtyme yet, if a man be in disese, th'estimacion

of the envyous people ne loketh nothing to desertes of men,

ne to the merytes of their doinges, but only to the aventure of

fortune; and therafter they yeven their sentence. And some

loken the voluntary wil in his herte, and therafter telleth his

jugement; not taking hede to reson ne to the qualitÈ of the

doing; as thus. If a man be riche and fulfild with worldly

welfulnesse, some commenden it, and sayn it is so lent by juste

cause; and he that hath adversitÈ, they sayn he is weked; and

hath deserved thilke anoy. The contrarye of these thinges some

men holden also; and sayn that to the riche prosperitÈ is purvayed

in-to his confusion; and upon this mater many autoritÈs

of many and greet-witted clerkes they alegen. And some men

sayn, though al good estimacion forsake folk that han adversitÈ,

yet is it meryte and encrees of his blisse; so that these purposes

am so wonderful in understanding, that trewly, for myn adversitÈ

now, I not how the sentence of the indifferent people wil jugen

my fame.'

'Therfore,' quod she, 'if any wight shulde yeve a trewe sentence

on suche maters, the cause of the disese maist thou see

wel. Understand ther-upon after what ende it draweth, that is to

sayne, good or badde; so ought it to have his fame †by goodnesse

or enfame by badnesse. For [of] every resonable person, and

namely of a wyse man, his wit ought not, without reson to-forn

herd, sodainly in a mater to juge. After the sawes of the wyse,

"thou shalt not juge ne deme toforn thou knowe."'

'Lady,' quod I, 'ye remembre wel, that in moste laude and

praysing of certayne seyntes in holy churche, is to rehersen their

conuersion from badde in-to good; and that is so rehersed, as

by a perpetual mirrour of remembraunce, in worshippinge of

tho sayntes, and good ensample to other misdoers in amendement.

How turned the Romayne Zedeoreys fro the Romaynes,

to be with Hanibal ayenst his kynde nacion; and afterwardes,

him seming the Romayns to be at the next degrÈ of confusion,

turned to his olde alyes; by whose witte after was Hanibal

discomfited. Wherfore, to enfourme you, lady, the maner-why

I mene, see now. In my youth I was drawe to ben assentaunt

and (in my mightes) helping to certain conjuracions and other

grete maters of ruling of citizins; and thilke thinges ben my

drawers in; and ex[c]itours to tho maters wern so paynted and

coloured that (at the prime face) me semed them noble and

glorious to al the people. I than, wening mikel meryte have

deserved in furthering and mayntenaunce of tho thinges, besyed

and laboured, with al my diligence, in werkinge of thilke maters

to the ende. And trewly, lady, to telle you the sothe, me rought

litel of any hate of the mighty senatours in thilke citÈ, ne of

comunes malice; for two skilles. Oon was, I had comfort to ben

in suche plyte, that bothe profit were to me and to my frendes.

Another was, for commen profit in cominaltee is not but pees and

tranquilitÈ, with just governaunce, proceden from thilke profit;

sithen, by counsayle of myne inwitte, me thought the firste painted

thinges malice and yvel meninge, withouten any good avayling to

any people, and of tyrannye purposed. And so, for pure sorowe,

and of my medlinge and badde infame that I was in ronne, tho

[the] teres [that] lasshed out of myne eyen were thus awaye

wasshe, than the under-hidde malice and the rancour of purposing

envye, forncast and imagined in distruccion of mokil people,

shewed so openly, that, had I ben blind, with myne hondes al the

circumstaunce I might wel have feled.

Now than tho persones that suche thinges have cast to redresse,

for wrathe of my first medlinge, shopen me to dwelle in this pynande

prison, til Lachases my threed no lenger wolde twyne. And

ever I was sought, if me liste to have grace of my lyfe and

frenesse of that prison, I shulde openly confesse how pees might

ben enduced to enden al the firste rancours. It was fully

supposed my knowing to be ful in tho maters. Than, lady,

I thought that every man that, by any waye of right, rightfully

don, may helpe any comune †wele to ben saved; whiche thing to

kepe above al thinges I am holde to mayntayne, and namely in

distroying of a wrong; al shulde I therthrough enpeche myn

owne fere, if he were gilty and to do misdeed assentaunt. And

mayster ne frend may nought avayle to the soule of him that

in falsnesse deyeth; and also that I nere desyred wrathe of the

people ne indignacion of the worthy, for nothinge that ever I

wrought or did, in any doing my-selfe els, but in the mayntenaunce

of these foresayd errours and in hydinge of the privitees therof.

And that al the peoples hertes, holdinge on the errours syde,

weren blinde and of elde so ferforth begyled, that debat and

stryf they maynteyned, and in distruccion on that other syde;

by whiche cause the pees, that moste in comunaltee shulde be

desyred, was in poynte to be broken and adnulled. Also the citee

of London, that is to me so dere and swete, in whiche I was forth

growen; (and more kyndely love have I to that place than to any

other in erthe, as every kyndely creature hath ful appetyte to that

place of his kyndly engendrure, and to wilne reste and pees

in that stede to abyde); thilke pees shulde thus there have ben

broken, and of al wyse it is commended and desyred. For knowe

thing it is, al men that desyren to comen to the perfit pees

everlasting must the pees by god commended bothe mayntayne and

kepe. This pees by angels voyce was confirmed, our god entringe

in this worlde. This, as for his Testament, he lefte to al his

frendes, whanne he retourned to the place from whence he cam;

this his apostel amonesteth to holden, without whiche man perfitly

may have non insight. Also this god, by his coming, made not

pees alone betwene hevenly and erthly bodyes, but also amonge

us on erthe so he pees confirmed, that in one heed of love oon

body we shulde perfourme. Also I remembre me wel how the

name of Athenes was rather after the god of pees than of batayle,

shewinge that pees moste is necessarie to comunaltees and citees.

I than, so styred by al these wayes toforn nempned, declared

certayne poyntes in this wyse. Firste, that thilke persones

that hadden me drawen to their purposes, and me not weting the

privy entent of their meninge, drawen also the feeble-witted

people, that have non insight of gubernatif prudence, to clamure

and to crye on maters that they styred; and under poyntes for

comune avauntage they enbolded the passif to take in the

actives doinge; and also styred innocentes of conning to crye

after thinges, whiche (quod they) may not stande but we ben

executours of tho maters, and auctoritÈ of execucion by comen

eleccion to us be delivered. And that muste entre by strength of

your mayntenaunce. For we out of suche degree put, oppression

of these olde hindrers shal agayn surmounten, and putten you in

such subjeccion, that in endelesse wo ye shul complayne.

The governementes (quod they) of your citÈ, lefte in the handes

of torcencious citezins, shal bringe in pestilence and distruccion

to you, good men; and therfore let us have the comune administracion

to abate suche yvels. Also (quod they) it is worthy

the good to commende, and the gilty desertes to chastice. There

ben citezens many, for-ferde of execucion that shal be doon; for

extorcions by hem committed ben evermore ayenst these purposes

and al other good mevinges. Never-the-latter, lady, trewly the

meninge under these wordes was, fully to have apeched the

mighty senatoures, whiche hadden hevy herte for the misgovernaunce

that they seen. And so, lady, whan it fel that free

eleccion [was mad], by greet clamour of moche people, [that] for

greet disese of misgovernaunce so fervently stoden in her eleccion

that they hem submitted to every maner †fate rather than have

suffred the maner and the rule of the hated governours;

notwithstandinge that in the contrary helden moche comune meyny,

that have no consideracion but only to voluntary lustes withouten

reson. But than thilke governour so forsaken, fayninge to-forn

his undoinge for misrule in his tyme, shoop to have letted thilke

eleccion, and have made a newe, him-selfe to have ben chosen;

and under that, mokil rore [to] have arered. These thinges, lady,

knowen among the princes, and made open to the people,

draweth in amendement, that every degree shal ben ordayned to

stande there-as he shulde; and that of errours coming herafter

men may lightly to-forn-hand purvaye remedye; in this wyse pees

and rest to be furthered and holde. Of the whiche thinges, lady,

thilke persones broughten in answere to-forn their moste soverayne

juge, not coarted by payninge dures, openly knowlegeden, and

asked therof grace; so that apertly it preveth my wordes ben

sothe, without forginge of lesinges.

But now it greveth me to remembre these dyvers sentences, in

janglinge of these shepy people; certes, me thinketh, they oughten

to maken joye that a sothe may be knowe. For my trouthe and

my conscience ben witnesse to me bothe, that this (knowinge

sothe) have I sayd, for no harme ne malice of tho persones, but

only for trouthe of my sacrament in my ligeaunce, by whiche

I was charged on my kinges behalfe. But see ye not now, lady,

how the felonous thoughtes of this people and covins of wicked

men conspyren ayen my sothfast trouth! See ye not every wight

that to these erroneous opinions were assentaunt, and helpes to

the noyse, and knewen al these thinges better than I my-selven,

apparaylen to fynden newe frendes, and clepen me fals, and

studyen how they mowen in her mouthes werse plyte nempne?

O god, what may this be, that thilke folk whiche that in tyme of

my mayntenaunce, and whan my might avayled to strecche to

the forsayd maters, tho me commended, and yave me name of

trouth, in so manyfolde maners that it was nyghe in every

wightes eere, there-as any of thilke people weren; and on the

other syde, thilke company somtyme passed, yevinge me name

of badde loos: now bothe tho peoples turned the good in-to

badde, and badde in-to good? Whiche thing is wonder, that

they knowing me saying but sothe, arn now tempted to reply her

olde praysinges; and knowen me wel in al doinges to ben trewe,

and sayn openly that I false have sayd many thinges! And they

aleged nothing me to ben false or untrewe, save thilke mater

knowleged by the parties hem-selfe; and god wot, other mater

is non. Ye also, lady, knowe these thinges for trewe; I avaunte

not in praysing of my-selfe; therby shulde I lese the precious

secrÈ of my conscience. But ye see wel that false opinion of the

people for my trouthe, in telling out of false conspyred maters;

and after the jugement of these clerkes, I shulde not hyde the

sothe of no maner person, mayster ne other. Wherfore I wolde

not drede, were it put in the consideracion of trewe and of wyse.

And for comers hereafter shullen fully, out of denwere, al the

sothe knowe of these thinges in acte, but as they wern, I have

put it in scripture, in perpetuel remembraunce of true meninge.

For trewly, lady, me semeth that I ought to bere the name of

trouthe, that for the love of rightwysnesse have thus me †submitted.

But now than the false fame, which that (clerkes sayn)

flyeth as faste as doth the fame of trouthe, shal so wyde sprede

til it be brought to the jewel that I of mene; and so shal I ben

hindred, withouten any mesure of trouthe.'

CHAPTER VII.

Than gan Love sadly me beholde, and sayd in a changed

voyce, lower than she had spoken in any tyme: 'Fayn

wolde I,' quod she, 'that thou were holpen; but hast thou sayd

any-thing whiche thou might not proven?'

'PardÈ,' quod I, 'the persones, every thing as I have sayd, han

knowleged hem-selfe.'

'Ye,' quod she, 'but what if they hadden nayed? How

woldest thou have maynteyned it?'

'Sothely,' quod I, 'it is wel wist, bothe amonges the greetest

and other of the realme, that I profered my body so largely in-to

provinge of tho thinges, that Mars shulde have juged the ende;

but, for sothnesse of my wordes, they durste not to thilke juge

truste.'

'Now, certes,' quod she, 'above al fames in this worlde, the

name of marcial doinges most plesen to ladyes of my lore; but

sithen thou were redy, and thyne adversaryes in thy presence

refused thilke doing; thy fame ought to be so born as if in dede

it had take to the ende. And therfore every wight that any

droppe of reson hath, and hereth of thee infame for these thinges,

hath this answere to saye: "trewly thou saydest; for thyne

adversaryes thy wordes affirmed." And if thou haddest lyed, yet

are they discomfited, the prise leved on thy syde; so that fame

shal holde down infame; he shal bringe [it in] upon none

halfe. What greveth thee thyne enemye[s] to sayn their owne

shame, as thus: "we arn discomfited, and yet our quarel is

trewe?" Shal not the loos of thy frendes ayenward dequace thilke

enfame, and saye they graunted a sothe without a stroke or fighting?

Many men in batayle ben discomfited and overcome in

a rightful quarel, that is goddes privy jugement in heven; but

yet, although the party be yolden, he may with wordes saye his

quarel is trewe, and to yelde him, in the contrarye, for drede of

dethe he is compelled; and he that graunteth and no stroke hath

feled, he may not crepe away in this wyse by none excusacion.

Indifferent folk wil say: "ye, who is trewe, who is fals, him-selfe

knowlegeth tho thinges." Thus in every syde fame sheweth to

thee good and no badde.'

'But yet,' quod I, 'some wil say, I ne shulde, for no dethe,

have discovered my maistresse; and so by unkyndnesse they

wol knette infame, to pursue me aboute. Thus enemyes of wil,

in manyfolde maner, wol seche privy serpentynes queintyses, to

quenche and distroye, by venim of many besinesses, the light of

tr[o]uthe; to make hertes to murmure ayenst my persone, to have

me in hayne withouten any cause.'

'Now,' quod she, 'here me a fewe wordes, and thou shalt fully

ben answered, I trowe. Me thinketh (quod she) right now, by

thy wordes, that sacrament of swering, that is to say, charging by

othe, was oon of the causes to make thee discover the malicious

imaginacions tofore nempned. Every ooth, by knittinge of copulation,

muste have these lawes, that is, trewe jugement and rightwysenesse;

in whiche thinge if any of these lacke, the ooth is

y-tourned in-to the name of perjury. Than to make a trewe

serment, most nedes these thinges folowe. For ofte tymes, a man

to saye sothe, but jugement and justice folowe, he is forsworn;

ensample of Herodes, for holdinge of his serment was [he]

dampned.

Also, to saye tr[o]uthe rightfulliche (but in jugement) otherwhile

is forboden, by that al sothes be nat to sayne. Therfore in

jugement, in tr[o]uthe, and rightwisenesse, is every creature

bounden, up payne of perjury, ful knowing to make, tho[ugh] it

were of his owne persone, for drede of sinne; after that worde,

"better is it to dey than live false." And, al wolde perverted people

fals report make in unkyndnesse, in that entent thy [en]fame to

reyse, whan light of tr[o]uthe in these maters is forth sprongen

and openly publisshed among commens, than shal nat suche

derke enfame dare appere, for pure shame of his falsnesse. As some

men ther ben that their owne enfame can none otherwyse voide

or els excuse, but †by hindringe of other mennes fame; which

that by non other cause clepen other men false, but for [that]

with their owne falsnesse mowen they nat ben avaunsed; or els

by false sklaund[r]inge wordes other men shenden, their owne

trewe sklaunder to make seme the lasse. For if such men wolden

their eyen of their conscience revolven, [they] shulden seen the

same sentence they legen on other springe out of their sydes, with

so many braunches, it were impossible to nombre. To whiche

therefore may it be sayd in that thinge, "this man thou demest,

therein thy-selfe thou condempnest."

But (quod she) understand nat by these wordes, that thou

wene me saye thee to be worthy sclaunder, for any mater tofore

written; truely I wolde witnesse the contrary; but I saye that

the bemes of sclaundring wordes may not be don awaye til the

daye of dome. For how shulde it nat yet, amonges so greet

plentee of people, ben many shrewes, sithen whan no mo but

eight persons in Noes shippe were closed, yet oon was a shrewe

and skorned his father? These thinges (quod she) I trowe, shewen

that fals fame is nat to drede, ne of wyse persons to accepte, and

namely nat of thy Margarite, whose wysdom here-after I thinke to

declare; wherfore I wot wel suche thing shal nat her asterte;

than of unkyndnesse thyn ooth hath thee excused at the fulle.

But now, if thou woldest nat greve, me list a fewe thinges to

shewe.'

'Say on,' quod I, 'what ye wol; I trowe ye mene but trouthe

and my profit in tyme cominge.'

'Trewly,' quod she, 'that is sothe, so thou con wel kepe these

wordes, and in the in[ne]rest secrÈ chambre of thyne herte so

faste hem close that they never flitte; than shalt thou fynde hem

avayling. Loke now what people hast thou served; whiche of

hem al in tyme of thyne exile ever thee refresshed, by the valewe

of the leste coyned plate that walketh in money? Who was sory,

or made any rewth for thy disese? If they hadden getten their

purpose, of thy misaventure sette they nat an hawe. Lo, whan

thou were emprisonned, how faste they hyed in helpe of thy

deliveraunce! I wene of thy dethe they yeve but lyte. They

loked after no-thing but after their owne lustes. And if thou liste

say the sothe, al that meyny that in this †brige thee broughten,

lokeden rather after thyne helpes than thee to have releved.

Owen nat yet some of hem money for his commens? Paydest

nat thou for some of her dispences, til they were tourned out of

Selande? Who yave thee ever ought for any rydinge thou madest?

Yet, pardÈ, some of hem token money for thy chambre, and

putte tho pens in his purse, unwetinge of the renter.

Lo for which a company thou medlest, that neither thee ne

them-selfe mighten helpe of unkyndnesse; now they bere the

name that thou supposest of hem for to have. What might thou

more have don than thou diddest, but-if thou woldest in a fals

quarel have been a stinkinge martyr? I wene thou fleddest, as

longe as thou might, their privitÈ to counsayle; which thing thou

hele[de]st lenger than thou shuldest. And thilke that ought thee

money no penny wolde paye; they wende thy returne hadde ben

an impossible. How might thou better have hem proved, but thus

in thy nedy diseses? Now hast thou ensaumple for whom thou

shalt meddle; trewly, this lore is worth many goodes.'

CHAPTER VIII.

†Eft gan Love to †steren me [with] these wordes: 'thinke

on my speche; for trewly here-after it wol do thee lykinge;

and how-so-ever thou see Fortune shape her wheele to tourne,

this meditacion [shal] by no waye revolve. For certes, Fortune

sheweth her fayrest, whan she thinketh to begyle. And as me

thought, here-toforn thou saydest, thy loos in love, for thy

rightwysenesse ought to be raysed, shulde be a-lowed in tyme cominge.

Thou might in love so thee have, that loos and fame shul so ben

raysed, that to thy frendes comfort, and sorowe to thyne enemys,

endlesse shul endure.

But if thou were the oon sheep, amonges the hundred, were lost

in deserte and out of the way hadde erred, and now to the flocke

art restoored, the shepherd hath in thee no joye and thou ayen

to the forrest tourne. But that right as the sorowe and anguisshe

was greet in tyme of thyne out-waye goinge, right so

joye and gladnesse shal be doubled to sene thee converted; and

nat as Lothes wyf ayen-lokinge, but [in] hool counsayle with the

shepe folowinge, and with them grasse and herbes gadre. Never-the-later

(quod she) I saye nat these thinges for no wantrust that

I have in supposinge of thee otherwyse than I shulde. For

trewly, I wot wel that now thou art set in suche a purpose, out of

whiche thee liste nat to parte. But I saye it for many men there

been, that to knowinge of other mennes doinges setten al their

cure, and lightly desyren the badde to clatter rather than the

good, and have no wil their owne maner to amende. They also

hate of olde rancours lightly haven; and there that suche thing

abydeth, sodaynly in their mouthes procedeth the habundaunce

of the herte, and wordes as stones out-throwe. Wherfore my

counsayl is ever-more openly and apertly, in what place thou sitte,

counterplete th'errours and meninges in as fer as thou hem

wistest false, and leve for no wight to make hem be knowe in

every bodyes ere; and be alway pacient and use Jacobes wordes,

what-so-ever men of thee clappen: "I shal sustayne my ladyes

wrathe which I have deserved, so longe as my Margarite hath

rightwysed my cause." And certes (quod she) I witnesse my-selfe,

if thou, thus converted, sorowest in good meninge in thyne herte,

[and] wolt from al vanitÈ parfitly departe, in consolacioun of al

good plesaunce of that Margaryte, whiche that thou desyrest after

wil of thyn herte, in a maner of a †moders pitÈ, [she] shul fully

accepte thee in-to grace. For right as thou rentest clothes in

open sighte, so openly to sowe hem at his worshippe withouten

reprofe [is] commended. Also, right as thou were ensample of

moche-folde errour, right so thou must be ensample of manyfolde

correccioun; so good savour to forgoing †of errour causeth diligent

love, with many playted praisinges to folowe; and than shal al

the firste errours make the folowinge worshippes to seme hugely

encresed. Blacke and white, set togider, every for other more

semeth; and so doth every thinges contrary in kynde. But

infame, that goth alwaye tofore, and praysinge worship by any

cause folowinge after, maketh to ryse the ilke honour in double

of welth; and that quencheth the spotte of the first enfame. Why

wenest, I saye, these thinges in hindringe of thy name? Nay,

nay, god wot, but for pure encresing worship, thy rightwysenesse to

commende, and thy trouthe to seme the more. Wost nat wel

thy-selfe, that thou in fourme of making †passest nat Adam that eet

of the apple? Thou †passest nat the stedfastnesse of Noe, that

eetinge of the grape becom dronke. Thou passest nat the

chastitÈ of Lothe, that lay by his doughter; eke the nobley of

Abraham, whom god reproved by his pryde; also Davides

mekenesse, whiche for a woman made Urye be slawe. What?

also Hector of Troye, in whom no defaute might be founde, yet

is he reproved that he ne hadde with manhode nat suffred the

warre begonne, ne Paris to have went in-to Grece, by whom gan

al the sorowe. For trewly, him lacketh no venim of privÈ

consenting, whiche that openly leveth a wrong to withsaye.

Lo eke an olde proverbe amonges many other: "He that is

stille semeth as he graunted."

Now by these ensamples thou might fully understonde, that

these thinges ben writte to your lerning, and in rightwysenesse of

tho persones, as thus: To every wight his defaute committed

made goodnesse afterwardes don be the more in reverence and in

open shewing; for ensample, is it nat songe in holy churche,

"Lo, how necessary was Adams synne!" David the king gat

Salomon the king of her that was Uryes wyf. Truly, for reprofe

is non of these thinges writte. Right so, tho I reherce thy

before-dede, I repreve thee never the more; ne for no villany of

thee are they rehersed, but for worshippe, so thou continewe wel

here-after: and for profit of thy-selfe I rede thou on hem thinke.'

Than sayde I right thus: 'Lady of unitÈ and accorde, envy

and wrathe lurken there thou comest in place; ye weten wel

your-selve, and so don many other, that whyle I administred the

office of commen doinge, as in rulinge of the stablisshmentes

amonges the people, I defouled never my conscience for no

maner dede; but ever, by witte and by counsayle of the wysest,

the maters weren drawen to their right endes. And thus trewly

for you, lady, I have desyred suche cure; and certes, in your

service was I nat ydel, as fer as suche doinge of my cure

streccheth.'

'That is a thing,' quod she, 'that may drawe many hertes of

noble, and voice of commune in-to glory; and fame is nat but

wrecched and fickle. Alas! that mankynde coveyteth in so leude

a wyse to be rewarded of any good dede, sithe glorie of fame, in

this worlde, is nat but hindringe of glorie in tyme comminge!

And certes (quod she) yet at the hardest suche fame, in-to heven,

is nat the erthe but a centre to the cercle of heven? A pricke is

wonder litel in respect of al the cercle; and yet, in al this pricke,

may no name be born, in maner of peersing, for many obstacles,

as waters, and wildernesse, and straunge langages. And nat only

names of men ben stilled and holden out of knowleginge by these

obstacles, but also citees and realmes of prosperitÈ ben letted to

be knowe, and their reson hindred; so that they mowe nat ben

parfitly in mennes propre understandinge. How shulde than the

name of a singuler Londenoys passe the glorious name of London,

whiche by many it is commended, and by many it is lacked, and

in many mo places in erthe nat knowen than knowen? For in

many countrees litel is London in knowing or in spech; and yet

among oon maner of people may nat such fame in goodnes

come; for as many as praysen, commenly as many lacken. Fy

than on such maner fame! Slepe, and suffre him that knoweth

previtÈ of hertes to dele suche fame in thilke place there nothing

ayenst a sothe shal neither speke ne dare apere, by attourney

ne by other maner. How many greet-named, and many greet

in worthinesse losed, han be tofore this tyme, that now out

of memorie are slidden, and clenely forgeten, for defaute of

wrytinges! And yet scriptures for greet elde so ben defased, that

no perpetualtÈ may in hem ben juged. But if thou wolt make

comparisoun to ever, what joye mayst thou have in erthly name?

It is a fayr lykenesse, a pees or oon grayn of whete, to a thousand

shippes ful of corne charged! What nombre is betwene the

oon and th'other? And yet mowe bothe they be nombred, and

ende in rekening have. But trewly, al that may be nombred is

nothing to recken, as to thilke that may nat be nombred. For

†of the thinges ended is mad comparison; as, oon litel, another

greet; but in thinges to have an ende, and another no ende,

suche comparisoun may nat be founden. Wherfore in heven to

ben losed with god hath non ende, but endlesse endureth; and

thou canst nothing don aright, but thou desyre the rumour therof

be heled and in every wightes ere; and that dureth but a pricke

in respecte of the other. And so thou sekest reward of folkes

smale wordes, and of vayne praysinges. Trewly, therin thou

lesest the guerdon of vertue; and lesest the grettest valour of

conscience, and uphap thy renomÈ everlasting. Therfore boldely

renomÈ of fame of the erthe shulde be hated, and fame after deth

shulde be desyred of werkes of vertue. [Trewly, vertue] asketh

guerdoning, and the soule causeth al vertue. Than the soule,

delivered out of prison of erthe, is most worthy suche guerdon

among to have in the everlastinge fame; and nat the body, that

causeth al mannes yvels.

CHAPTER X.

Fully have I now declared thyn estate to be good, so thou

folow therafter, and that the †objeccion first †by thee

aleged, in worthinesse of thy Margaryte, shal not thee lette, as

it shal forther thee, and encrese thee. It is now to declare, the

last objeccion in nothing may greve.'

'Yes, certes,' quod I, 'bothe greve and lette muste it nedes;

the contrarye may not ben proved; and see now why. Whyle

I was glorious in worldly welfulnesse, and had suche goodes in

welth as maken men riche, tho was I drawe in-to companyes

that loos, prise, and name yeven. Tho louteden blasours; tho

curreyden glosours; tho welcomeden flatterers; tho worshipped

thilke that now deynen nat to loke. Every wight, in such erthly

wele habundant, is holde noble, precious, benigne, and wyse to

do what he shal, in any degree that men him sette; al-be-it that

the sothe be in the contrarye of al tho thinges. But he that can

never so wel him behave, and hath vertue habundaunt in manyfolde

maners, and be nat welthed with suche erthly goodes, is holde

for a foole, and sayd, his wit is but sotted. Lo! how fals for

aver is holde trewe! Lo! how trewe is cleped fals for wanting

of goodes! Also, lady, dignitees of office maken men mikel

comended, as thus: "he is so good, were he out, his pere shulde

men not fynde." Trewly, I trowe of some suche that are so

praysed, were they out ones, another shulde make him so be

knowe, he shulde of no wyse no more ben loked after: but only

fooles, wel I wot, desyren suche newe thinges. Wherfore I wonder

that thilke governour, out of whom alone the causes proceden

that governen al thinges, whiche that hath ordeyned this world

in workes of the kyndely bodyes so be governed, not with

unstedfast or happyous thing, but with rules of reson, whiche

shewen the course of certayne thinges: why suffreth he suche

slydinge chaunges, that misturnen suche noble thinges as ben we

men, that arn a fayr parcel of the erthe, and holden the upperest

degree, under god, of benigne thinges, as ye sayden right now

your-selfe; shulde never man have ben set in so worthy a place

but-if his degrÈ were ordayned noble. Alas! thou that knittest

the purveyaunce of al thinges, why lokest thou not to amenden

these defautes? I see shrewes that han wicked maners sitten in

chayres of domes, lambes to punisshen, there wolves shulden ben

punisshed. Lo! vertue, shynende naturelly, for povertee lurketh,

and is hid under cloude; but the moone false, forsworn (as

I knowe my-selfe) for aver and yeftes, hath usurped to shyne by

day-light, with peynture of other mens praysinges; and trewly,

thilke forged light fouly shulde fade, were the trouth away of

colours feyned. Thus is night turned in-to day, and day in-to

night; winter in-to sommer, and sommer in-to winter; not in

dede, but in misclepinge of foliche people.'

'Now,' quod she, 'what wenest thou of these thinges? How

felest thou in thyn hert, by what governaunce that this cometh

aboute?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'that wot I never; but-if it be that Fortune

hath graunt from above, to lede the ende of man as her lyketh.'

'Ah! now I see,' quod she, 'th'entent of thy mening! Lo,

bycause thy worldly goodes ben fulliche dispent, thou beraft out

of dignitÈ of office, in whiche thou madest the †gaderinge of thilke

goodes, and yet diddest in that office by counsaile of wyse [before

that] any thing were ended; and true were unto hem whos profit

thou shuldest loke; and seest now many that in thilke hervest

made of thee mokel, and now, for glosing of other, deyneth thee

nought to forther, but enhaunsen false shrewes by witnessinge of

trouthe! These thinges greveth thyn herte, to sene thy-selfe thus

abated; and than, frayltÈ of mankynde ne setteth but litel by the

lesers of suche richesse, have he never so moche vertue; and so

thou wenest of thy jewel to renne in dispyt, and not ben accepted

in-to grace. Al this shal thee nothing hinder. Now (quod she)

first thou wost wel, thou lostest nothing that ever mightest thou

chalenge for thyn owne. Whan nature brought thee forth, come

thou not naked out of thy †moders wombe? Thou haddest no

richesse; and whan thou shalt entre in-to the ende of every

flesshly body, what shalt thou have with thee than? So, every

richesse thou hast in tyme of thy livinge, nis but lent; thou

might therin chalenge no propertee. And see now; every thing

that is a mannes own, he may do therwith what him lyketh, to

yeve or to kepe; bul richesse thou playnest from thee lost; if thy

might had strecched so ferforth, fayn thou woldest have hem kept,

multiplyed with mo other; and so, ayenst thy wil, ben they departed

from thee; wherfore they were never thyn. And if thou laudest

and joyest any wight, for he is stuffed with suche maner richesse,

thou art in that beleve begyled; for thou wenest thilke joye to be

selinesse or els ese; and he that hath lost suche happes to ben

unsely.'

'Ye, forsoth,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'than wol I prove that unsely in that wise is

to preise; and so the tother is, the contrary, to be lacked.'

'How so?' quod I.

'For Unsely,' quod she, 'begyleth nat, but sheweth th'entent

of her working. Et e contra: Selinesse begyleth. For in prosperitÈ

she maketh a jape in blyndnesse; that is, she wyndeth him to

make sorowe whan she withdraweth. Wolt thou nat (quod she)

preise him better that sheweth to thee his herte, tho[ugh] it be

with bytande wordes and dispitous, than him that gloseth and

thinketh in †his absence to do thee many harmes?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'the oon is to commende; and the other to

lacke and dispice.'

'A! ha!' quod she, 'right so Ese, while †she lasteth, gloseth

and flatereth; and lightly voydeth whan she most plesauntly

sheweth; and ever, in hir absence, she is aboute to do thee tene

and sorowe in herte. But Unsely, al-be-it with bytande chere,

sheweth what she is, and so doth not that other; wherfore

Unsely doth not begyle. Selinesse disceyveth; Unsely put away

doute. That oon maketh men blynde; that other openeth their

eyen in shewinge of wrecchidnesse. The oon is ful of drede to

lese that is not his owne; that other is sobre, and maketh men

discharged of mokel hevinesse in burthen. The oon draweth

a man from very good; the other haleth him to vertue by the

hookes of thoughtes. And wenist thou nat that thy disese hath

don thee mokel more to winne than ever yet thou lostest, and

more than ever the contrary made thee winne? Is nat a greet

good, to thy thinking, for to knowe the hertes of thy sothfast

frendes? PardÈ, they ben proved to the ful, and the trewe have

discevered fro the false. Trewly, at the goinge of the ilke brotel

joye, ther yede no more away than the ilke that was nat thyn

proper. He was never from that lightly departed; thyn owne

good therfore leveth it stille with thee. Now good (quod she);

for how moche woldest thou somtyme have bought this verry

knowing of thy frendes from the flatteringe flyes that thee glosed,

whan thou thought thy-selfe sely? But thou that playnest of losse

in richesse, hast founden the most dere-worthy thing; that thou

clepest unsely hath made thee moche thing to winnen. And

also, for conclusioun of al, he is frende that now leveth nat his

herte from thyne helpes. And if that Margarite denyeth now nat

to suffre her vertues shyne to thee-wardes with spredinge bemes,

as far or farther than if thou were sely in worldly joye, trewly,

I saye nat els but she is somdel to blame.'

'Ah! pees,' quod I, 'and speke no more of this; myn herte

breketh, now thou touchest any suche wordes!'

'A! wel!' quod she, 'thanne let us singen; thou herest no

more of these thinges at this tyme.'

Thus endeth the firste book of the Testament of Love;

and herafter foloweth the seconde.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

Very welth may not be founden in al this worlde; and that

is wel sene. Lo! how in my mooste comfort, as I wende

and moost supposed to have had ful answere of my contrary

thoughtes, sodaynly it was vanisshed. And al the workes of man

faren in the same wyse; whan folk wenen best her entent for to

have and willes to perfourme, anon chaunging of the lift syde to

the right halve tourneth it so clene in-to another kynde, that never

shal it come to the first plyte in doinge.

O this wonderful steering so soone otherwysed out of knowinge!

But for my purpos was at the beginninge, and so dureth yet, if god

of his grace tyme wol me graunt, I thinke to perfourme this

worke, as I have begonne, in love; after as my thinne wit, with

inspiracion of him that hildeth al grace, wol suffre. Grevously,

god wot, have I suffred a greet throwe that the Romayne

emperour, which in unitÈ of love shulde acorde, and every with

other * * * * in cause of other to avaunce; and namely, sithe

this empyre [nedeth] to be corrected of so many sectes in heresie

of faith, of service, o[f] rule in loves religion. Trewly, al were

it but to shende erroneous opinions, I may it no lenger suffre.

For many men there ben that sayn love to be in gravel and sande,

that with see ebbinge and flowinge woweth, as riches that sodaynly

vanissheth. And some sayn that love shulde be in windy blastes,

that stoundmele turneth as a phane, and glorie of renomÈ, which

after lustes of the varyaunt people is areysed or stilled.

Many also wenen that in the sonne and the moone and other

sterres love shulde ben founden; for among al other planettes

moste soveraynly they shynen, as dignitees in reverence of estates

rather than good han and occupyen. Ful many also there ben

that in okes and in huge postes supposen love to ben grounded,

as in strength and in might, whiche mowen not helpen their owne

wrecchidnesse, whan they ginne to falle. But [of] suche diversitÈ

of sectes, ayenst the rightful beleve of love, these errours ben forth

spredde, that loves servantes in trewe rule and stedfast fayth in

no place daren apere. Thus irrecuperable joy is went, and anoy

endless is entred. For no man aright reproveth suche errours,

but [men] confirmen their wordes, and sayn, that badde is noble

good, and goodnesse is badde; to which folk the prophete biddeth

wo without ende.

Also manye tonges of greet false techinges in gylinge maner,

principally in my tymes, not only with wordes but also with armes,

loves servauntes and professe in his religion of trewe rule pursewen,

to confounden and to distroyen. And for as moche as holy †faders,

that of our Christen fayth aproved and strengthed to the Jewes, as

to men resonable and of divinitÈ lerned, proved thilke fayth with

resones, and with auctoritÈs of the olde testament and of the newe,

her pertinacie to distroy: but to paynims, that for beestes and

houndes were holde, to putte hem out of their errour, was †miracle

of god shewed. These thinges were figured by cominge of th'angel

to the shepherdes, and by the sterre to paynims kinges; as who

sayth: angel resonable to resonable creature, and sterre of miracle

to people bestial not lerned, wern sent to enforme. But I, lovers

clerk, in al my conning and with al my mightes, trewly I have no

suche grace in vertue of miracles, ne for no discomfit falsheedes

suffyseth not auctoritÈs alone; sithen that suche [arn] heretikes

and maintaynours of falsitÈs. Wherfore I wot wel, sithen that

they ben men, and reson is approved in hem, the clowde of errour

hath her reson beyond probable resons, whiche that cacchende

wit rightfully may not with-sitte. By my travaylinge studie I have

ordeyned hem, †whiche that auctoritÈ, misglosed by mannes

reson, to graunt shal ben enduced.

Now ginneth my penne to quake, to thinken on the sentences

of the envyous people, whiche alway ben redy, both ryder and

goer, to scorne and to jape this leude book; and me, for rancour

and hate in their hertes, they shullen so dispyse, that although

my book be leude, yet shal it ben more leude holden, and by

wicked wordes in many maner apayred. Certes, me thinketh,

[of] the sowne of their badde speche right now is ful bothe myne

eeres. O good precious Margaryte, myne herte shulde wepe if

I wiste ye token hede of suche maner speche; but trewly, I wot

wel, in that your wysdom shal not asterte. For of god, maker of

kynde, witnesse I took, that for none envy ne yvel have I drawe

this mater togider; but only for goodnesse to maintayn, and

errours in falsetees to distroy. Wherfore (as I sayd) with reson

I thinke, thilke forsayd errours to distroye and dequace.

These resons and suche other, if they enduce men, in loves

service, trewe to beleve of parfit blisse, yet to ful faithe in

credence of deserte fully mowe they nat suffyse; sithen 'faith hath

no merite of mede, whan mannes reson sheweth experience in

doing.' For utterly no reson the parfit blisse of love by no waye

may make to be comprehended. Lo! what is a parcel of lovers

joye? Parfit science, in good service, of their desyre to comprehende

in bodily doinge the lykinge of the soule; not as by

a glasse to have contemplacion of tyme cominge, but thilke first

imagined and thought after face to face in beholding. What

herte, what reson, what understandinge can make his heven to be

feled and knowe, without assaye in doinge? Certes, noon. Sithen

thanne of love cometh suche fruite in blisse, and love in him-selfe

is the most among other vertues, as clerkes sayn; the seed of

suche springinge in al places, in al countreys, in al worldes shulde

ben sowe.

But o! welawaye! thilke seed is forsake, and †mowe not ben

suffred, the lond-tillers to sette a-werke, without medlinge of

cockle; badde wedes whiche somtyme stonken †han caught the

name of love among idiotes and badde-meninge people. Never-the-later,

yet how-so-it-be that men clepe thilke †thing preciousest

in kynde, with many eke-names, that other thinges that the soule

yeven the ilke noble name, it sheweth wel that in a maner men

have a greet lykinge in worshippinge of thilke name. Wherfore

this worke have I writte; and to thee, tytled of Loves name,

I have it avowed in a maner of sacrifyse; that, where-ever it be

rad, it mowe in merite, by the excellence of thilke name, the

more wexe in authoritÈ and worshippe of takinge in hede; and to

what entent it was ordayned, the inseËres mowen ben moved.

Every thing to whom is owande occasion don as for his ende,

Aristotle supposeth that the actes of every thinge ben in a maner

his final cause. A final cause is noblerer, or els even as noble,

as thilke thing that is finally to thilke ende; wherfore accion of

thinge everlasting is demed to be eternal, and not temporal;

sithen it is his final cause. Right so the actes of my boke 'Love,'

and love is noble; wherfore, though my book be leude, the cause

with which I am stered, and for whom I ought it doon, noble

forsothe ben bothe. But bycause that in conninge I am yong,

and can yet but crepe, this leude A. b. c. have I set in-to lerning;

for I can not passen the telling of three as yet. And if god

wil, in shorte tyme, I shal amende this leudnesse in joininge

syllables; whiche thing, for dulnesse of witte, I may not in three

letters declare. For trewly I saye, the goodnesse of my Margaryte-perle

wolde yeve mater in endyting to many clerkes; certes, her

mercy is more to me swetter than any livinges; wherfore my

lippes mowen not suffyse, in speking of her ful laude and worshippe

as they shulde. But who is that [wolde be wyse] in

knowing of the orders of heven, and putteth his resones in the

erthe? I forsothe may not, with blere eyen, the shyning sonne of

vertue in bright whele of this Margaryte beholde; therfore as yet

I may her not discryve in vertue as I wolde. In tyme cominge,

in another tretyse, thorow goddes grace, this sonne in clerenesse

of vertue to be-knowe, and how she enlumineth al this day,

I thinke to declare.

CHAPTER II.

In this mene whyle this comfortable lady gan singe a wonder

mater of endytinge in Latin; but trewly, the noble colours in

rethorik wyse knitte were so craftely, that my conning wol not

strecche to remembre; but the sentence, I trowe, somdel have

I in mynde. Certes, they were wonder swete of sowne, and they

were touched al in lamentacion wyse, and by no werbles of

myrthe. Lo! thus gan she singe in Latin, as I may constrewe it

in our Englisshe tonge.

'Alas! that these hevenly bodyes their light and course shewen,

as nature yave hem in commaundement at the ginning of the first

age; but these thinges in free choice of reson han non

understondinge. But man that ought to passe al thing of doinge, of

right course in kynde, over-whelmed sothnesse by wrongful tytle,

and hath drawen the sterre of envye to gon by his syde, that the

clips of me, that shulde be his shynande sonne, so ofte is seye,

that it wened thilke errour, thorow hem come in, shulde ben myn

owne defaute. Trewly, therfore, I have me withdrawe, and mad

my dwellinge out of lande in an yle by my-selfe, in the occian

closed; and yet sayn there many, they have me harberowed; but,

god wot, they faylen. These thinges me greven to thinke, and

namely on passed gladnesse, that in this worlde was wont me

disporte of highe and lowe; and now it is fayled; they that

wolden maystries me have in thilke stoundes. In heven on

highe, above Saturnes sphere, in sesonable tyme were they

lodged; but now come queynte counsailours that in no house

wol suffre me sojourne, wherof is pitÈ; and yet sayn some that

they me have in celler with wyne shed; in gernere, there corn is

layd covered with whete; in sacke, sowed with wolle; in purse,

with money faste knit; among pannes mouled in a †whicche;

in presse, among clothes layd, with riche pelure arayed; in stable,

among hors and other beestes, as hogges, sheep, and neet; and

in many other wyse. But thou, maker of light (in winking of

thyn eye the sonne is queynt), wost right wel that I in trewe name

was never thus herberowed.

Somtyme, toforn the sonne in the seventh partie was smiten,

I bar both crosse and mytre, to yeve it where I wolde. With me

the pope wente a-fote; and I tho was worshipped of al holy

church. Kinges baden me their crownes holden. The law was

set as it shuld; tofore the juge, as wel the poore durste shewe

his greef as the riche, for al his money. I defended tho taylages,

and was redy for the poore to paye. I made grete feestes in my

tyme, and noble songes, and maryed damoselles of gentil feture,

withouten golde or other richesse. Poore clerkes, for witte of

schole, I sette in churches, and made suche persones to preche;

and tho was service in holy churche honest and devout, in

plesaunce bothe of god and of the people. But now the leude

for symonye is avaunced, and shendeth al holy churche. Now is

steward, for his achates; now †is courtiour, for his debates; now

is eschetour, for his wronges; now is losel, for his songes,

personer; and [hath his] provendre alone, with whiche manye

thrifty shulde encrese. And yet is this shrewe behynde; free

herte is forsake; and losengeour is take. Lo! it acordeth; for

suche there ben that voluntarie lustes haunten in courte with

ribaudye, that til midnight and more wol playe and wake, but in

the churche at matins he is behynde, for yvel disposicion of his

stomake; therfore he shulde ete bene-breed (and so did his

syre) his estate ther-with to strengthen. His auter is broke, and

lowe lyth, in poynte to gon to the erthe; but his hors muste ben

esy and hye, to bere him over grete waters. His chalice poore,

but he hath riche cuppes. No towayle but a shete, there god

shal ben handled; and on his mete-borde there shal ben bord-clothes

and towelles many payre. At masse serveth but a clergion;

fyve squiers in hal. Poore chaunsel, open holes in every

syde; beddes of silke, with tapites going al aboute his chambre.

Poore masse-book and leud chapelayn, and broken surplice with

many an hole; good houndes and many, to hunte after hart and

hare, to fede in their feestes. Of poore men have they greet

care; for they ever crave and nothing offren, they wolden have

hem dolven! But among legistres there dar I not come; my

doinge[s], they sayn, maken hem nedy. They ne wolde for

nothing have me in town; for than were tort and †force nought

worth an hawe about, and plesen no men, but thilk grevous and

torcious ben in might and in doing. These thinges to-forn-sayd

mowe wel, if men liste, ryme; trewly, they acorde nothing. And

for-as-moch as al thinges by me shulden of right ben governed,

I am sory to see that governaunce fayleth, as thus: to sene smale

and lowe governe the hye and bodies above. Certes, that

policye is naught; it is forbode by them that of governaunce

treten and enformen. And right as beestly wit shulde ben

subject to reson, so erthly power in it-selfe, the lower shulde ben

subject to the hygher. What is worth thy body, but it be

governed with thy soule? Right so litel or naught is worth

erthely power, but if reignatif prudence in heedes governe the

smale; to whiche heedes the smale owen to obey and suffre in

their governaunce. But soverainnesse ayenward shulde thinke in

this wyse: "I am servaunt of these creatures to me delivered,

not lord, but defendour; not mayster, but enfourmer; not

possessour, but in possession; and to hem liche a tree in whiche

sparowes shullen stelen, her birdes to norisshe and forth bringe,

under suretee ayenst al raveynous foules and beestes, and not to

be tyraunt them-selfe." And than the smale, in reste and quiete,

by the heedes wel disposed, owen for their soveraynes helth and

prosperitÈ to pray, and in other doinges in maintenaunce therof

performe, withouten other administracion in rule of any maner

governaunce. And they wit have in hem, and grace to come to

suche thinges, yet shulde they cese til their heedes them cleped,

although profit and plesaunce shulde folowe. But trewly, other

governaunce ne other medlinge ought they not to clayme, ne

the heedes on hem to putte. Trewly, amonges cosinage dar

I not come, but-if richesse be my mene; sothly, she and other

bodily goodes maketh nigh cosinage, ther never propinquitÈ ne

alyaunce in lyve was ne shulde have be, nere it for her medling

maners; wherfore kindly am I not ther leged. Povert of

kinred is behynde; richesse suffreth him to passe; truly he saith,

he com never of Japhetes childre. Whereof I am sory that

Japhetes children, for povert, in no linage ben rekened, and

Caynes children, for riches, be maked Japhetes heires. Alas! this

is a wonder chaunge bitwene tho two NoËs children, sithen that

of Japhetes ofspring comeden knightes, and of Cayn discended

the lyne of servage to his brothers childre. Lo! how gentillesse

and servage, as cosins, bothe discended out of two brethern of

one body! Wherfore I saye in sothnesse, that gentilesse in

kinrede †maketh not gentil linage in succession, without desert

of a mans own selfe. Where is now the lyne of Alisaundre the

noble, or els of Hector of Troye? Who is discended of right

bloode of lyne fro king Artour? PardÈ, sir Perdicas, whom that

Alisandre made to ben his heire in Grece, was of no kinges

bloode; his dame was a tombestere. Of what kinred ben the

gentiles in our dayes? I trow therfore, if any good be in gentilesse,

it is only that it semeth a maner of necessitÈ be input to

gentilmen, that they shulden not varyen fro the vertues of their

auncestres. Certes, al maner linage of men ben evenliche in

birth; for oon †fader, maker of al goodnes, enformed hem al,

and al mortal folk of one sede arn greyned. Wherto avaunt men

of her linage, in cosinage or in †elde-faders? Loke now the ginning,

and to god, maker of mans person; there is no clerk ne no

worthy in gentilesse; and he that norissheth his †corage with

vyces and unresonable lustes, and leveth the kynde course, to

whiche ende him brought forth his birthe, trewly, he is ungentil,

and among †cherles may ben nempned. And therfore, he that

wol ben gentil, he mot daunten his flesshe fro vyces that causen

ungentilnesse, and leve also reignes of wicked lustes, and drawe

to him vertue, that in al places gentilnesse gentilmen maketh.

And so speke I, in feminine gendre in general, of tho persones,

at the reverence of one whom every wight honoureth; for her

bountee and her noblesse y-made her to god so dere, that his

moder she became; and she me hath had so greet in worship,

that I nil for nothing in open declare, that in any thinge ayenst her

secte may so wene. For al vertue and al worthinesse of plesaunce

in hem haboundeth. And although I wolde any-thing speke,

trewly I can not; I may fynde in yvel of hem no maner mater.'

CHAPTER IV.

Thou shalt,' quod she, 'understonde first among al other

thinges, that al the cure of my service to me in the parfit

blisse in doing is desyred in every mannes herte, be he never

so moche a wrecche; but every man travayleth by dyvers studye,

and seke[th] thilke blisse by dyvers wayes. But al the endes

are knit in selinesse of desyre in the parfit blisse, that is suche

joye, whan men it have gotten, there †leveth no thing more to

ben coveyted. But how that desyre of suche perfeccion in

my service be kindely set in lovers hertes, yet her erroneous

opinions misturne it by falsenesse of wening. And although

mannes understanding be misturned, to knowe whiche shuld ben

the way unto my person, and whither it abydeth; yet wote they

there is a love in every wight, [whiche] weneth by that thing that

he coveyteth most, he shulde come to thilke love; and that

is parfit blisse of my servauntes; but than fulle blisse may not

be, and there lacke any thing of that blisse in any syde. Eke it

foloweth than, that he that must have ful blisse lacke no blisse in

love on no syde.'

'Therfore, lady,' quod I tho, 'thilke blisse I have desyred,

and †soghte toforn this my-selfe, by wayes of riches, of dignitÈ,

of power, and of renomÈ, wening me in tho †thinges had ben

thilke blisse; but ayenst the heer it turneth. Whan I supposed

beste thilke blisse have †getten, and come to the ful purpose

of your service, sodaynly was I hindred, and throwen so fer

abacke, that me thinketh an inpossible to come there I lefte.'

'I †wot wel,' quod she; 'and therfore hast thou fayled; for

thou wentest not by the hye way. A litel misgoing in the ginning

causeth mikil errour in the ende; wherfore of thilke blisse thou

fayledest, for having of richesse; ne non of the other thinges thou

nempnedest mowen nat make suche parfit blisse in love as I shal

shewe. Therfore they be nat worthy to thilke blisse; and yet

somwhat must ben cause and way to thilke blisse. Ergo, there is

som suche thing, and som way, but it is litel in usage and that

is nat openly y-knowe. But what felest in thyne hert of the

service, in whiche by me thou art entred? Wenest aught thy-selfe

yet be in the hye way to my blisse? I shal so shewe it to

thee, thou shalt not conne saye the contrary.'

'Good lady,' quod I, 'altho I suppose it in my herte, yet

wolde I here thyn wordes, how ye menen in this mater.'

Quod she, 'that I shal, with my good wil. Thilke blisse

desyred, som-del ye knowen, altho it be nat parfitly. For kyndly

entencion ledeth you therto, but in three maner livinges is al suche

wayes shewed. Every wight in this world, to have this blisse, oon

of thilke three wayes of lyves must procede; whiche, after opinions

of grete clerkes, are by names cleped bestiallich, resonablich, [and

manlich. Resonablich] is vertuous. Manlich is worldlich. Bestialliche

is lustes and delytable, nothing restrayned by bridel of reson.

Al that joyeth and yeveth gladnesse to the hert, and it be ayenst

reson, is lykened to bestial living, which thing foloweth lustes and

delytes; wherfore in suche thinge may nat that precious blisse,

that is maister of al vertues, abyde. Your †faders toforn you have

cleped such lusty livinges after the flessh "passions of desyre,"

which are innominable tofore god and man both. Than, after

determinacion of suche wyse, we accorden that suche passions of

desyre shul nat be nempned, but holden for absolute from al other

livinges and provinges; and so †leveth in t[w]o livinges, manlich

and resonable, to declare the maters begonne. But to make thee

fully have understanding in manlich livinges, whiche is holden

worldlich in these thinges, so that ignorance be mad no letter,

I wol (quod she) nempne these forsayd wayes †by names and

conclusions. First riches, dignitÈ, renomÈ, and power shul in

this worke be cleped bodily goodes; for in hem hath ben, a gret

throw, mannes trust of selinesse in love: as in riches, suffisance

to have maintayned that was begonne by worldly catel; in dignitÈ,

honour and reverence of hem that wern underput by maistry

therby to obeye. In renomÈ, glorie of peoples praising, after

lustes in their hert, without hede-taking to qualitÈ and maner of

doing; and in power, by trouth of lordships mayntenaunce, thing

to procede forth in doing. In al whiche thinges a longe tyme

mannes coveytise in commune hath ben greetly grounded, to come

to the blisse of my service; but trewly, they were begyled, and for

the principal muste nedes fayle, and in helping mowe nat availe.

See why. For holdest him not poore that is nedy?'

'Yes, pardÈ,' quod I.

'And him for dishonored, that moche folk deyne nat to

reverence?'

'That is soth,' quod I.

'And what him, that his mightes faylen and mowe nat helpen?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'me semeth, of al men he shulde be holden

a wrecche.'

'And wenest nat,' quod she, 'that he that is litel in renomÈ,

but rather is out of the praysinges of mo men than a fewe, be nat

in shame?'

'For soth,' quod I, 'it is shame and villany, to him that

coveyteth renomÈ, that more folk nat prayse in name than preise.'

'Soth,' quod she, 'thou sayst soth; but al these thinges are

folowed of suche maner doinge, and wenden in riches suffisaunce,

in power might, in dignitÈ worship, and in renomÈ glorie; wherfore

they discended in-to disceyvable wening, and in that service disceit

is folowed. And thus, in general, thou and al suche other that so

worchen, faylen of my blisse that ye long han desyred. Wherfore

truly, in lyfe of reson is the hye way to this blisse; as I thinke

more openly to declare herafter. Never-the-later yet, in a litel to

comforte thy herte, in shewing of what waye thou art entred

*selfe, and that thy Margarite may knowe thee set in the hye way,

I wol enforme thee in this wyse. Thou hast fayled of thy first

purpos, bicause thou wentest wronge and leftest the hye way on

thy right syde, as thus: thou lokedest on worldly living, and that

thing thee begyled; and lightly therfore, as a litel assay, thou

songedest; but whan I turned thy purpos, and shewed thee

a part of the hye waye, tho thou abode therin, and no deth ne

ferdnesse of non enemy might thee out of thilk way reve; but

ever oon in thyn herte, to come to the ilke blisse, whan thou

were arested and firste tyme enprisoned, thou were loth to

chaunge thy way, for in thy hert thou wendest to have ben there

thou shuldest. And for I had routhe to sene thee miscaried,

and wiste wel thyn ablenesse my service to forther and encrese,

I com my-selfe, without other mene, to visit thy person in comfort

of thy hert. And perdy, in my comming thou were greetly

glad[d]ed; after whiche tyme no disese, no care, no tene, might

move me out of thy hert. And yet am I glad and greetly enpited,

how continually thou haddest me in mynde, with good avysement

of thy conscience, whan thy king and his princes by huge wordes

and grete loked after variaunce in thy speche; and ever thou

were redy for my sake, in plesaunce of the Margarite-perle and

many mo other, thy body to oblige in-to Marces doing, if any

contraried thy sawes. Stedfast way maketh stedfast hert, with

good hope in the ende. Trewly, I wol that thou it wel knowe;

for I see thee so set, and not chaunginge herte haddest in my

service; and I made thou haddest grace of thy kinge, in

foryevenesse of mikel misdede. To the gracious king art thou mikel

holden, of whos grace and goodnesse somtyme hereafter I thinke

thee enforme, whan I shew the ground where-as moral vertue

groweth. Who brought thee to werke? Who brought this grace

aboute? Who made thy hert hardy? Trewly, it was I. For

haddest thou of me fayled, than of this purpos had[dest thou]

never taken [hede] in this wyse. And therfore I say, thou might

wel truste to come to thy blisse, sithen thy ginninge hath ben hard,

but ever graciously after thy hertes desyr hath proceded. Silver

fyned with many hetes men knowen for trew; and safely men

may trust to the alay in werkinge. This †disese hath proved what

way hence-forward thou thinkest to holde.'

'Now, in good fayth, lady,' quod I tho, 'I am now in; me

semeth, it is the hye way and the right.'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod she, 'and now I wol disprove thy first

wayes, by whiche many men wenen to gette thilke blisse. But

for-as-moche as every herte that hath caught ful love, is tyed with

queynt knittinges, thou shalt understande that love and thilke

foresayd blisse toforn declared in this[e] provinges, shal hote the

knot in the hert.'

'Wel,' quod I, 'this inpossession I wol wel understande.'

'Now also,' quod she, 'for the knotte in the herte muste ben

from one to an-other, and I knowe thy desyr, I wol thou understande

these maters to ben sayd of thy-selfe, in disproving of thy

first service, and in strengthinge of thilke that thou hast

undertake to thy Margaryte-perle.'

'A goddes halfe,' quod I, 'right wel I fele that al this case is

possible and trewe; and therfore I †admitte it altogither.'

'†Understand wel,' quod she, 'these termes, and loke no

contradiccion thou graunt.'

'If god wol,' quod I, 'of al these thinges wol I not fayle; and

if I graunt contradiccion, I shulde graunte an impossible; and

that were a foul inconvenience; for whiche thinges, lady, y-wis,

herafter I thinke me to kepe.'

CHAPTER V.

'Wel,' quod she, 'thou knowest that every thing is a cause,

wherthrough any thing hath being that is cleped "caused."

Than, if richesse †causeth knot in herte, thilke richesse †is cause

of thilke precious thinge being. But after the sentence of

Aristotle, every cause is more in dignitÈ than his thinge caused;

wherthrough it foloweth richesse to ben more in dignitÈ than

thilke knot. But richesses arn kyndely naughty, badde, and

nedy; and thilke knotte is thing kyndely good, most praysed

and desyred. Ergo, thing naughty, badde, and nedy in kyndely

understandinge is more worthy than thing kyndely good, most

desyred and praysed! The consequence is fals; nedes, the

antecedent mot ben of the same condicion. But that richesses

ben bad, naughty, and nedy, that wol I prove; wherfore they

mowe cause no suche thing that is so glorious and good. The

more richesse thou hast, the more nede hast thou of helpe hem

to kepe. Ergo, thou nedest in richesse, whiche nede thou

shuldest not have, if thou hem wantest. Than muste richesse

ben nedy, that in their having maken thee nedy to helpes, in

suretee thy richesse to kepen; wherthrough foloweth, richesse to

ben nedy. Everything causinge yvels is badde and naughty; but

richesse in one causen misese, in another they mowen not evenly

strecchen al about. Wherof cometh plee, debat, thefte, begylinges,

but richesse to winne; whiche thinges ben badde, and by richesse

arn caused. Ergo, thilke richesse[s] ben badde; whiche badnesse

and nede ben knit in-to richesse by a maner of kyndely propertee;

and every cause and caused accorden; so that it foloweth, thilke

richesse[s] to have the same accordaunce with badnesse and nede,

that their cause asketh. Also, every thing hath his being by his

cause; than, if the cause be distroyed, the being of caused is

vanisshed. And, so, if richesse[s] causen love, and richesse[s]

weren distroyed, the love shulde vanisshe; but thilke knotte, and

it be trewe, may not vanisshe, for no going of richesse. Ergo,

richesse is no cause of the knot. And many men, as I sayd,

setten the cause of the knotte in richesse; thilke knitten the

richesse, and nothing the yvel; thilke persons, what-ever they

ben, wenen that riches is most worthy to be had; and that make

they the cause; and so wene they thilke riches be better than the

person. Commenly, suche asken rather after the quantitÈ than

after the qualitÈ; and suche wenen, as wel by hem-selfe as by

other, that conjunccion of his lyfe and of his soule is no more

precious, but in as mikel as he hath of richesse. Alas! how may

he holden suche thinges precious or noble, that neither han lyf ne

soule, ne ordinaunce of werchinge limmes! Suche richesse[s]

ben more worthy whan they ben in †gadering; in departing,

ginneth his love of other mennes praysing. And avarice †gadering

maketh be hated, and nedy to many out-helpes; and whan leveth

the possession of such goodes, and they ginne vanissh, than

entreth sorowe and tene in their hertes. O! badde and strayte

ben thilke, that at their departinge maketh men teneful and sory,

and in the †gadering of hem make men nedy! Moche folk at

ones mowen not togider moche therof have. A good gest gladdeth

his hoste and al his meyny; but he is a badde gest that maketh

his hoste nedy and to be aferd of his gestes going.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'me wondreth therfore that the comune

opinion is thus: "He is worth no more than that he hath in

catel."'

'O!' quod she, 'loke thou be not of that opinion; for if gold or

money, or other maner of riches shynen in thy sight, whos is that?

Nat thyn. And tho[ugh] they have a litel beautee, they be nothing

in comparison of our kynde; and therfore, ye shulde nat sette

your worthinesse in thing lower than your-selfe. For the riches,

the fairnesse, the worthinesse of thilke goodes, if ther be any

suche preciousnesse in hem, are nat thyne; thou madest hem

so never; from other they come to thee, and to other they shul

from thee. Wherfore enbracest thou other wightes good, as

tho[ugh] they were thyn? Kynde hath drawe hem by hem-selfe.

It is sothe, the goodes of the erth ben ordayned in your fode

and norisshinge; but if thou wolt holde thee apayd with that

suffyseth to thy kynde, thou shalt nat be in daunger of no suche

riches; to kynde suffyseth litel thing, who that taketh hede.

And if thou wolt algates with superfluitÈ of riches be a-throted,

thou shalt hastelich be anoyed, or els yvel at ese. And fairnesse

of feldes ne of habitacions, ne multitude of meynÈ, may nat be

rekened as riches that are thyn owne. For if they be badde, it is

greet sclaunder and villany to the occupyer; and if they be good

or faire, the mater of the workman that hem made is to prayse.

How shulde other-wyse bountee be compted for thyne? Thilke

goodnesse and fairnesse be proper to tho thinges hem-selfe; than,

if they be nat thyne, sorow nat whan they wende, ne glad thee

nat in pompe and in pride whan thou hem hast. For their

bountee and their beautees cometh out of their owne kynde, and

nat of thyne owne person. As faire ben they in their not having

as whan thou hast hem. They be nat faire for thou hast hem;

but thou hast geten hem for the fairnesse of them-selfe. And

there the vaylance of men is demed in richesse outforth, wenen

me[n] to have no proper good in them-selfe, but seche it in

straunge thinges. Trewly, the condicion of good wening is to

thee mistourned, to wene, your noblesse be not in your-selfe, but

in the goodes and beautee of other thinges. Pardy, the beestes

that han but feling soules, have suffisaunce in their owne selfe;

and ye, that ben lyke to god, seken encrese of suffisaunce from so

excellent a kynde of so lowe thinges; ye do greet wrong to him

that you made lordes over al erthly thinges; and ye putte your

worthinesse under the nombre of the fete of lower thinges and

foule. Whan ye juge thilke riches to be your worthinesse, than

putte ye your-selfe, by estimacion, under thilke foule thinges;

and than leve ye the knowing of your-selfe; so be ye viler than

any dombe beest; that cometh of shrewde vice. Right so thilke

persons that loven non yvel for dereworthinesse of the persone,

but for straunge goodes, and saith, the adornement in the knot

lyth in such thing; his errour is perilous and shrewd, and he

wryeth moche venim with moche welth; and that knot may

nat be good whan he hath it getten.

Certes, thus hath riches with flickering sight anoyed many;

and often, whan there is a throw-out shrewe, he coyneth al the

gold, al the precious stones that mowen be founden, to have in

his bandon; he weneth no wight be worthy to have suche thinges

but he alone. How many hast thou knowe, now in late tyme,

that in their richesse supposed suffisance have folowed, and now

it is al fayled!'

'Ye, lady,' quod I, 'that is for mis medling; and otherwyse

governed [they] thilke richesse than they shulde.'

'Ye,' quod she tho, 'had not the flood greetly areysed, and

throwe to-hemward both gravel and sand, he had mad no medlinge.

And right as see yeveth flood, so draweth see ebbe, and

pulleth ayen under wawe al the firste out-throwe, but-if good pyles

of noble governaunce in love, in wel-meninge maner, ben sadly

grounded; †the whiche holde thilke gravel as for a tyme, that

ayen lightly mowe not it turne; and if the pyles ben trewe, the

gravel and sand wol abyde. And certes, ful warning in love shalt

thou never thorow hem get ne cover, that lightly with an ebbe, er

thou be ware, it [ne] wol ayen meve. In richesse many men

have had tenes and diseses, whiche they shulde not have had, if

therof they had fayled. Thorow whiche, now declared, partly it is

shewed, that for richesse shulde the knotte in herte neither ben

caused in one ne in other; trewly, knotte may ben knit, and

I trowe more stedfast, in love, though richesse fayled; and els,

in richesse is the knotte, and not in herte. And than suche

a knotte is fals; whan the see ebbeth and withdraweth the

gravel, that such richesse voydeth, thilke knotte wol unknitte.

Wherfore no trust, no way, no cause, no parfit being is in

richesse, of no suche knotte. Therfore another way muste we

have.

CHAPTER VI.

Honour in dignitÈ is wened to yeven a ful knot.'

'Ye, certes,' quod I, 'and of that opinion ben many;

for they sayn, dignitÈ, with honour and reverence, causen hertes

to encheynen, and so abled to be knit togither, for the excellence

in soverayntÈ of such degrees.'

'Now,' quod she, 'if dignitÈ, honour, and reverence causen

thilke knotte in herte, this knot is good and profitable. For

every cause of a cause is cause of thing caused. Than thus:

good thinges and profitable ben by dignitÈ, honour, and reverence

caused. Ergo, they accorden; and dignites ben good with

reverences and honour. But contraries mowen not accorden.

Wherfore, by reson, there shulde no dignitee, no reverence, non

honour acorde with shrewes. But that is fals; they have ben

cause to shrewes in many shreudnes; for with hem they accorden.

Ergo, from beginning to argue ayenward til it come to the laste

conclusion, they are not cause of the knot. Lo, al day at eye arn

shrewes not in reverence, in honour, and in dignitÈ? Yes, forsothe,

rather than the good. Than foloweth it that shrewes

rather than good shul ben cause of this knot. But of this [the]

contrarie of al lovers is bileved, and for a sothe openly determined

to holde.'

'Now,' quod I, 'fayn wolde I here, how suche dignitees acorden

with shrewes.'

'O,' quod she, 'that wol I shewe in manifolde wyse. Ye wene

(quod she) that dignites of office here in your citÈ is as the

sonne; it shyneth bright withouten any cloude; [of] whiche thing,

whan they comen in the handes of malicious tirauntes, there

cometh moche harm, and more grevaunce therof than of the

wilde fyre, though it brende al a strete. Certes, in dignitÈ of

office, the werkes of the occupyer shewen the malice and the

badnesse in the person; with shrewes they maken manyfolde

harmes, and moche people shamen. How often han rancours,

for malice of the governour, shulde ben mainteyned? Hath not

than suche dignitees caused debat, rumours, and yvels? Yes,

god wot, by suche thinges have ben trusted to make mens understanding

enclyne to many queynte thinges. Thou wottest wel

what I mene.'

'Ye,' quod I, 'therfore, as dignitÈ suche thing in tene y-wrought,

so ayenward, the substaunce in dignitÈ chaunged, relyed to bring

ayen good plyte in doing.'

'Do way, do way,' quod she; 'if it so betyde, but that is

selde, that suche dignitÈ is betake in a good mannes governaunce,

what thing is to recken in the dignitees goodnesse? PardÈ, the

bountee and goodnesse is hers that usen it in good governaunce;

and therfore cometh it that honour and reverence shulde ben

don to dignitÈ bycause of encresinge vertue in the occupyer,

and not to the ruler bycause of soverayntee in dignitÈ. Sithen

dignitÈ may no vertue cause, who is worthy worship for suche

goodnesse? Not dignitÈ, but person, that maketh goodnesse in

dignitÈ to shyne.'

'This is wonder thing,' quod I; 'for me thinketh, as the person

in dignitÈ is worthy honour for goodnesse, so, tho[ugh] a person

for badnesse ma[u]gree hath deserved, yet the dignitÈ leneth to

be commended.'

'Let be,' quod she, 'thou errest right foule; dignitÈ with

badnesse is helper to performe the felonous doing. Pardy, were

it kyndly good, or any propertÈ of kyndly vertue [that men]

hadden in hem-selfe, shrewes shulde hem never have; with hem

shulde they never accorde. Water and fyr, that ben contrarious,

mowen nat togider ben assembled; kynde wol nat suffre suche

contraries to joyne. And sithen at eye, by experience in doing,

we seen that shrewes have hem more often than good men, siker

mayst thou be, that kyndly good in suche thing is nat appropred.

Pardy, were they kyndly good, as wel oon as other shulden

evenlich in vertue of governaunce ben worthe; but oon fayleth in

goodnesse, another doth the contrary; and so it sheweth, kyndly

goodnesse in dignitÈ nat be grounded. And this same reson

(quod she) may be mad, in general, on al the bodily goodes;

for they comen ofte to throw-out shrewes. After this, he is

strong that hath might to have grete burthens, and he is light

and swifte, that hath soveraintÈ in ronning to passe other; right

so he is a shrewe, on whom shreude thinges and badde han most

werchinge. And right as philosophy maketh philosophers, and

my service maketh lovers, right so, if dignites weren good or

vertuous, they shulde maken shrewes good, and turne her malice,

and make hem be vertuous. But that they do nat, as it is

proved, but causen rancour and debat. Ergo, they be nat good,

but utterly badde. Had Nero never ben Emperour, shulde

never his dame have be slayn, to maken open the privitÈ of his

engendrure. Herodes, for his dignitÈ, slew many children. The

dignitÈ of king John wolde have distroyed al England. Therfore

mokel wysdom and goodnesse both, nedeth in a person, the

malice in dignitÈ slyly to brydel, and with a good bitte of arest

to withdrawe, in case it wolde praunce otherwyse than it shulde.

Trewly, ye yeve to dignites wrongful names in your cleping.

They shulde hete, nat dignitÈ, but moustre of badnesse and

mayntenour of shrewes. Pardy, shyne the sonne never so bright,

and it bringe forth no hete, ne sesonably the herbes out-bringe of

the erthe, but suffre frostes and cold, and the erthe barayne to

ligge by tyme of his compas in circute about, ye wolde wonder,

and dispreyse that sonne! If the mone be at ful, and sheweth

no light, but derke and dimme to your sight appereth, and make

distruccion of the waters, wol ye nat suppose it be under cloude

or in clips, and that som prevy thing, unknowen to your wittes,

is cause of suche contrarious doinge? Than, if clerkes, that han

ful insight and knowing of suche impedimentes, enforme you of

the sothe, very idiottes ye ben, but-if ye yeven credence to thilk

clerkes wordes. And yet it doth me tene, to sene many wrecches

rejoycen in such maner planettes. Trewly, litel con[ne] they on

philosophy, or els on my lore, that any desyr haven suche

lightinge planettes in that wyse any more to shewe.'

'Good lady,' quod I, 'tel me how ye mene in these thinges.'

'Lo,' quod she, 'the dignites of your citÈ, sonne and mone,

nothing in kynde shew their shyning as they shulde. For the

sonne made no brenning hete in love, but freesed envye in

mennes hertes, for feblenesse of shyning hete; and the moone

was about, under an olde cloude, the livinges by waters to

distroye.'

'Lady,' quod I, 'it is supposed they had shyned as they

shulde.'

'Ye,' quod she, 'but now it is proved at the ful, their beautÈ in

kyndly shyning fayled; wherfore dignitÈ of him-selven hath no

beautee in fayrnesse, ne dryveth nat awaye vices, but encreseth;

and so be they no cause of the knotte. Now see, in good trouth;

holde ye nat such sonnes worthy of no reverence, and dignites

worthy of no worship, that maketh men to do the more harmes?'

'I not,' quod I.

'No?' quod she; 'and thou see a wyse good man, for his

goodnesse and wysnesse wolt thou nat do him worship? Therof

he is worthy.'

'That is good skil,' quod I; 'it is dewe to suche, both reverence

and worship to have.'

'Than,' quod she, 'a shrewe, for his shreudnesse, altho he be

put forth toforn other for ferde, yet is he worthy, for shrewdnesse,

to be unworshipped; of reverence no part is he worthy to have,

[that] to contrarious doing belongeth: and that is good skil.

For, right as he besmyteth the dignites, thilke same thing ayenward

him smyteth, or els shulde smyte. And over this thou wost

wel (quod she) that fyr in every place heteth where it be, and

water maketh wete. Why? For kyndely werking is so y-put in

hem, to do suche thinges; for every kyndely in werking sheweth

his kynde. But though a wight had ben mayre of your city

many winter togider, and come in a straunge place there he were

not knowen, he shulde for his dignitÈ have no reverence. Than

neither worshippe ne reverence is kyndely propre in no dignitÈ,

sithen they shulden don their kynde in suche doinge, if any were.

And if reverence ne worshippe kyndely be not set in dignitees,

and they more therein ben shewed than goodnesse, for that in

dignitÈ is shewed, but it proveth that goodnesse kyndely in hem

is not grounded. I-wis, neither worshippe, ne reverence, ne

goodnesse in dignitÈ don non office of kynde; for they have non

suche propertee in nature of doinge but by false opinion of the

people. Lo! how somtyme thilke that in your city wern in

dignitÈ noble, if thou liste hem nempne, they ben now overturned

bothe in worship, in name, and in reverence; wherfore

such dignites have no kyndly werching of worshippe and of

reverence. He that hath no worthinesse on it-selfe, now it ryseth

and now it vanissheth, after the variaunt opinion in false hertes

of unstable people. Wherfore, if thou desyre the knotte of this

jewel, or els if thou woldest suppose she shulde sette the knotte

on thee for suche maner dignitÈ, than thou wenest beautee or

goodnesse of thilke somwhat encreseth the goodnesse or vertue in

the body. But dignite[es] of hemself ben not good, ne yeven

reverence ne worshippe by their owne kynde. How shulde they

than yeve to any other a thing, that by no waye mowe they have

hem-selfe? It is sene in dignitÈ of the emperour and of many

mo other, that they mowe not of hem-selve kepe their worshippe

ne their reverence; that, in a litel whyle, it is now up and now

downe, by unstedfaste hertes of the people. What bountee mowe

they yeve that, with cloude, lightly leveth his shyninge? Certes,

to the occupyer is mokel appeyred, sithen suche doinge doth

villanye to him that may it not mayntayne. Wherfore thilke way

to the knotte is croked; and if any desyre to come to the knot,

he must leve this way on his lefte syde, or els shal he never come

there.

CHAPTER VIII.

Verily it is proved that richesse, dignitÈ, and power ben not

trewe way to the knotte, but as rathe by suche thinges the

knotte to be unbounde; wherfore on these thinges I rede no

wight truste to gette any good knotte. But what shul we saye of

renomÈ in the peoples mouthes? Shulde that ben any cause?

What supposest thou in thyn herte?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'yes, I trowe; for your slye resons I dare not

safely it saye.'

'Than,' quod she, 'wol I preve that shrewes as rathe shul ben

in the knotte as the good; and that were ayenst kynde.'

'Fayn,' quod I, 'wolde I that here; me thinketh wonder how

renomÈ shuld as wel knitte a shrewe as a good person; renomÈ

in every degree hath avaunced; yet wist I never the contrarye.

Shulde than renomÈ accorde with a shrewe? It may not sinke in

my stomake til I here more.'

'Now,' quod she, 'have I not sayd alwayes, that shrewes shul

not have the knotte?'

'What nedeth,' quod I, 'to reherse that any more? I wot wel

every wight, by kyndely reson, shrewes in knitting wol eschewe.'

'Than,' quod she, 'the good ought thilke knotte to have.'

'How els?' quod I.

'It were greet harm,' quod she, 'that the good were weyved

and put out of espoire of the knotte, if he it desyred.'

'O,' quod I, 'alas! On suche thing to thinke, I wene that

heven wepeth to see suche wronges here ben suffred on erthe; the

good ought it to have, and no wight els.'

'The goodnesse,' quod she, 'of a person may not ben knowe

outforth but by renomÈ of the knowers; wherfore he must be

renomed of goodnesse, to come to the knot.'

'So must it be,' quod I, 'or els al lost that we carpen.'

'Sothly,' quod she, 'that were greet harm, but-if a good man

might have his desyres in service of thilke knot, and a shrewe to

be †weyved, and they ben not knowen in general but by lacking

and praysing, and in renomÈ; and so by the consequence it

foloweth, a shrewe to ben praysed and knit; and a good to be

forsake and unknit.'

'Ah,' quod I tho, 'have ye, lady, ben here abouten; yet wolde

I see, by grace of our argumentes better declared, how good and

bad do acorden by lacking and praysing; me thinketh it ayenst

kynde.'

'Nay,' quod she, 'and that shalt thou see as yerne; these

elementes han contrarious qualitees in kynde, by whiche they

mowe not acorde no more than good and badde; and in [some]

qualitees they acorde, so that contraries by qualitÈ acorden by

qualitÈ. Is not erthe drye; and water, that is next and bitwene

th'erthe, is wete? Drye and wete ben contrarie, and mowen not

acorde, and yet this discordaunce is bounde to acorde by cloudes;

for bothe elementes ben colde. Right so the eyre, that is next

the water, is wete; and eke it is hot. This eyre by his hete

contrarieth water that is cold; but thilke contrarioustÈ is oned †by

moysture; for bothe be they moyst. Also the fyr, that is next

the †eyre and it encloseth al about, is drye, wherthrough it

contrarieth †eyre, that is wete; and in hete they acorde; for

bothe they ben hote. Thus by these acordaunces discordantes

ben joyned, and in a maner of acordaunce they acorden by

conneccion, that is, knitting togither; of that accorde cometh

a maner of melodye that is right noble. Right so good and bad

arn contrarie in doinges, by lacking and praysing; good is bothe

lacked and praysed of some; and badde is bothe lacked and

praysed of some; wherfore their contrarioustee acorde bothe by

lacking and praysing. Than foloweth it, though good be never

so mokel praysed, [it] oweth more to ben knit than the badde;

or els bad, for the renomÈ that he hath, must be taken as wel as

the good; and that oweth not.'

'No, forsothe,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'than is renomÈ no way to the knot. Lo,

foole,' quod she, 'how clerkes wryten of suche glorie of renomÈ:—"O

glorie, glorie, thou art non other thing to thousandes of folke

but a greet sweller of eeres!" Many oon hath had ful greet renomÈ

by false opinion of variaunt people. And what is fouler than

folk wrongfully to ben praysed, or by malice of the people giltlesse

lacked? Nedes shame foloweth therof to hem that with wrong

prayseth, and also to the desertes praysed; and vilanye and

reproof of him that disclaundreth.

Good child (quod she) what echeth suche renomÈ to the

conscience of a wyse man, that loketh and mesureth his goodnesse,

not by slevelesse wordes of the people, but by sothfastnesse

of conscience? By god, nothing. And if it be fayr, a mans name

be eched by moche folkes praysing, and fouler thing that mo folk

not praysen? I sayd to thee a litel here-beforn, that no folk in

straunge countreyes nought praysen; suche renomÈ may not

comen to their eeres, bycause of unknowing and other obstacles,

as I sayde: wherfore more folk not praysen, and that is right foul

to him that renomÈ desyreth, to wete, lesse folk praisen than

renomÈ enhaunce. I trowe, the thank of a people is naught

worth in remembraunce to take; ne it procedeth of no wyse

jugement; never is it stedfast pardurable. It is veyne and fleing;

with winde wasteth and encreseth. Trewly, suche glorie ought to

be hated. If gentillesse be a cleer thing, renomÈ and glorie to

enhaunce, as in reckening of thy linage, than is gentilesse of thy

kinne; for-why it semeth that gentilesse of thy kinne is but

praysing and renomÈ that come of thyne auncestres desertes:

and if so be that praysing and renomÈ of their desertes make

their clere gentillesse, than mote they nedes ben gentil for their

gentil dedes, and not thou; for of thy-selfe cometh not such

maner gentilesse, praysinge of thy desertes. Than gentillesse of

thyne auncesters, that forayne is to thee, maketh thee not gentil,

but ungentil and reproved, and-if thou continuest not their

gentilesse. And therfore a wyse man ones sayde: "Better is it

thy kinne to ben by thee gentyled, than thou to glorifye of thy

kinnes gentilesse, and hast no desert therof thy-selfe."

How passinge is the beautee of flesshly bodyes, more flittinge

than movable floures of sommer! And if thyne eyen weren as good

as the lynx, that may seen thorow many stone walles, bothe fayre

and foule, in their entrayles, of no maner hewe shulde apere to

thy sight; that were a foule sight. Than is fayrnesse by feblesse

of eyen, but of no kynde; wherfore thilke shulde be no way to

the knot; whan thilke is went, the knotte wendeth after. Lo,

now, at al proves, none of al these thinges mowe parfitly ben in

understanding, to ben way to the during blisse of the knotte.

But now, to conclusion of these maters, herkeneth these wordes.

Very sommer is knowe from the winter: in shorter cours draweth

the dayes of Decembre than in the moneth of June; the springes

of Maye faden and †falowen in Octobre. These thinges ben not

unbounden from their olde kynde; they have not lost her werke

of their propre estat. Men, of voluntarious wil, withsitte that

hevens governeth. Other thinges suffren thinges paciently to

werche; man, in what estat he be, yet wolde he ben chaunged.

Thus by queynt thinges blisse is desyred; and the fruit that

cometh of these springes nis but anguis and bitter; al-though it

be a whyle swete, it may not be with-holde; hastely they departe;

thus al-day fayleth thinges that fooles wende. Right thus hast

thou fayled in thy first wening. He that thinketh to sayle, and drawe

after the course of the sterre de polo antartico, shal he never

come northward to the contrarye sterre of polus articus; of whiche

thinges if thou take kepe, thy first out-waye-going "prison" and

"exile" may be cleped. The ground falsed underneth, and so

hast thou fayled. No wight, I wene, blameth him that stinteth

in misgoing, and secheth redy way of his blisse. Now me

thinketh (quod she) that it suffyseth in my shewing; the wayes

by dignetÈ, richesse, renomÈ, and power, if thou loke clerely, arn

no wayes to the knotte.'

CHAPTER IX.

'Every argument, lady,' quod I tho, 'that ye han maked in

these fore-nempned maters, me thinketh hem in my ful

witte conceyved; shal I no more, if god wil, in the contrarye be

begyled. But fayn wolde I, and it were your wil, blisse of the

knotte to me were declared. I might fele the better how my

herte might assente, to pursue the ende in service, as he hath

begonne.'

'O,' quod she, 'there is a melodye in heven, whiche clerkes

clepen "armony"; but that is not in brekinge of voice, but it is

a maner swete thing of kyndely werching, that causeth joye[s]

out of nombre to recken, and that is joyned by reson and by

wysdome in a quantitÈ of proporcion of knitting. God made al

thing in reson and in witte of proporcion of melody, we mowe not

suffyse to shewe. It is written by grete clerkes and wyse, that,

in erthly thinges, lightly by studye and by travayle the knowinge

may be getten; but of suche hevenly melody, mokel travayle wol

bringe out in knowing right litel. Swetenesse of this paradyse

hath you ravisshed; it semeth ye slepten, rested from al other

diseses; so kyndely is your herte therein y-grounded. Blisse of

two hertes, in ful love knitte, may not aright ben imagined; ever

is their contemplacion, in ful of thoughty studye to plesaunce,

mater in bringinge comfort everiche to other. And therfore, of

erthly thinges, mokel mater lightly cometh in your lerning.

Knowledge of understonding, that is nigh after eye, but not so

nigh the covetyse of knittinge in your hertes. More soverain

desyr hath every wight in litel heringe of hevenly conninge than

of mokel material purposes in erthe. Right so it is in propertee

of my servauntes, that they ben more affiched in steringe of litel

thinge in his desyr than of mokel other mater lasse in his

conscience. This blisse is a maner of sowne delicious in

a queynte voice touched, and no dinne of notes; there is non

impression of breking labour. I can it not otherwyse nempne,

for wantinge of privy wordes, but paradyse terrestre ful of delicious

melody, withouten travayle in sown, perpetual service in ful joye

coveyted to endure. Only kynde maketh hertes in understonding

so to slepe, that otherwyse may it nat be nempned, ne in other

maner names for lyking swetnesse can I nat it declare; al sugre

and hony, al minstralsy and melody ben but soot and galle in

comparison, by no maner proporcion to reken, in respect of this

blisful joye. This armony, this melody, this perdurable joye may

nat be in doinge but betwene hevens and elementes, or twey

kyndly hertes ful knit in trouth of naturel understonding, withouten

weninge and disceit; as hevens and planettes, whiche thinges

continually, for kyndly accordaunces, foryeteth al contrarious

mevinges, that in-to passive diseses may sowne; evermore it

thirsteth after more werking. These thinges in proporcion be

so wel joyned, that it undoth al thing whiche in-to badnesse by any

way may be accompted.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'this is a thing precious and noble. Alas!

that falsnesse ever, or wantrust shulde ever be maynteyned, this

joye to voyde. Alas! that ever any wrecche shulde, thorow wrath

or envy, janglinge dare make, to shove this melody so farre

a-backe, that openly dar it nat ben used; trewly, wrecches ben

fulfilled with envy and wrathe, and no wight els. Flebring

and tales in suche wrecches dare appere openly in every wightes

eere, with ful mouth so charged, [with] mokel malice moved

many innocentes to shende; god wolde their soule therwith were

strangled! Lo! trouth in this blisse is hid, and over-al under

covert him hydeth; he dar not come a-place, for waytinge of

shrewes. Commenly, badnesse goodnesse amaistreth; with my-selfe

and my soule this joye wolde I bye, if the goodnesse were

as moche as the nobley in melody.'

'O,' quod she, 'what goodnesse may be acompted more in

this material worlde? Truly, non; that shalt thou understonde.

Is nat every thing good that is contrariant and distroying yvel?'

'How els?' quod I.

'Envy, wrathe, and falsnesse ben general,' quod she; 'and

that wot every man being in his right mynde; the knotte, the

whiche we have in this blisse, is contrariaunt and distroyeth such

maner yvels. Ergo, it is good. What hath caused any wight

to don any good dede? Fynd me any good, but-if this knotte

be the cheef cause. Nedes mot it be good, that causeth so

many good dedes. Every cause is more and worthier than thing

caused; and in that mores possession al thinges lesse ben

compted. As the king is more than his people, and hath in

possession al his rËalme after, right so the knot is more than

al other goodes; thou might recken al thinges lasse; and that

to him longeth, oweth in-to his mores cause of worship and of

wil †to turne; it is els rebel and out of his mores defending to

voyde. Right so of every goodnesse; in-to the knotte and

in-to the cause of his worship [it] oweth to tourne. And trewly,

every thing that hath being profitably is good, but nothing hath

to ben more profitably than this knot; kinges it mayntayneth,

and hem, their powers to mayntayne. It maketh misse to ben

amended with good governaunce in doing. It closeth hertes

so togider, that rancour is out-thresten. Who that it lengest

kepeth, lengest is glad[d]ed.'

'I trowe,' quod I, 'heretykes and misse-mening people hence-forward

wol maintayne this knotte; for therthorough shul they

ben maintayned, and utterly wol turne and leve their olde yvel

understanding, and knitte this goodnesse, and profer so ferre

in service, that name of servauntes might they have. Their

jangles shal cese; me thinketh hem lacketh mater now to alege.'

'Certes,' quod Love, 'if they, of good wil thus turned, as thou

sayst, wolen trewly perfourme, yet shul they be abled party

of this blisse to have; and they wol not, yet shul my servauntes

the werre wel susteyne in myn helpe of maintenaunce to the ende.

And they, for their good travayle, shullen in reward so ben meded,

that endelesse joye body and soule †to-gider in this shullen

abyden. There is ever accion of blisse withouten possible

corrupcion; there is accion perpetuel in werke without travayle;

there is everlasting passife, withouten any of labour; continuel

plyte, without cesinge coveyted to endure. No tonge may telle,

ne herte may thinke the leest point of this blisse.'

'God bring me thider!' quod I than.

'Continueth wel,' quod she, 'to the ende, and thou might not

fayle than; for though thou spede not here, yet shal the passion

of thy martred lyfe ben written, and rad toforn the grete Jupiter,

that god is of routhe, an high in the holownesse of heven, there

he sit in his trone; and ever thou shalt forward ben holden

amonge al these hevins for a knight, that mightest with no

penaunce ben discomfited. He is a very martyr that, livingly

goinge, is gnawen to the bones.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'these ben good wordes of comfort; a litel

myne herte is rejoyced in a mery wyse.'

'Ye,' quod she; 'and he that is in heven felith more joye,

than whan he firste herde therof speke.'

'So it is,' quod I; 'but wist I the sothe, that after disese

comfort wolde folowe with blisse, so as ye have often declared,

I wolde wel suffre this passion with the better chere. But my

thoughtful sorowe is endelesse, to thinke how I am cast out

of a welfare; and yet dayneth not this yvel non herte, non hede,

to meward throwe: which thinges wolde greetly me by wayes

of comfort disporte, to weten in my-selfe a litel with other me[n]

ben y-moved; and my sorowes peysen not in her balaunce the

weyght of a peese. Slinges of her daunger so hevily peysen,

they drawe my causes so hye, that in her eyen they semen but

light and right litel.'

'O! for,' quod she, 'heven with skyes that foule cloudes

maken and darke †weders, with gret tempestes and huge,

maketh the mery dayes with softe shyning sonnes. Also the

yere with-draweth floures and beautee of herbes and of erth;

the same †yere maketh springes and jolitÈ in Vere so to renovel

with peinted coloures, that erthe semeth as gay as heven. Sees

that blasteth and with wawes throweth shippes, of whiche the

living creatures for greet peril for hem dreden; right so, the

same sees maketh smothe waters and golden sayling, and comforteth

hem with noble haven that firste were so ferde. Hast

thou not (quod she) lerned in thy youth, that Jupiter hath in

his warderobe bothe garmentes of joye and of sorowe? What

wost thou how soone he wol turne of the garment of care,

and clothe thee in blisse? PardÈ, it is not ferre fro thee. Lo,

an olde proverbe aleged by many wyse:—"Whan bale is greetest,

than is bote a nye-bore." Wherof wilt thou dismaye? Hope

wel and serve wel; and that shal thee save, with thy good bileve.'

'Ye, ye,' quod I; 'yet see I not by reson how this blisse

is coming; I wot it is contingent; it may falle on other.'

'O,' quod she, 'I have mokel to done to clere thyne understanding,

and voyde these errours out of thy mynde. I wol

prove it by reson, thy wo may not alway enduren. Every thing

kyndely (quod she) is governed and ruled by the hevenly bodyes,

whiche haven ful werchinge here on erthe; and after course

of these bodyes, al course of your doinges here ben governed

and ruled by kynde.

Thou wost wel, by cours of planettes al your dayes proceden;

and to everich of singuler houres be enterchaunged stondmele

about, by submitted worching naturally to suffre; of whiche

changes cometh these transitory tymes that maketh revolving of

your yeres thus stondmele; every hath ful might of worchinge,

til al seven han had her course about. Of which worchinges and

possession of houres the dayes of the weke have take her names,

after denominacion in these seven planettes. Lo, your Sonday

ginneth at the first hour after noon on the Saturday, in whiche

hour is than the Sonne in ful might of worching; of whom Sonday

taketh his name. Next him foloweth Venus, and after

Mercurius, and than the Moone; so than Saturnus, after whom

Jovis; and than Mars; and ayen than the Sonne; and so forth

†by .xxiiii. houres togider; in whiche hour ginning in the seconde

day stant the Moone, as maister for that tyme to rule; of whom

Monday taketh his name; and this course foloweth of al other

dayes generally in doing. This course of nature of these bodyes

chaunging stinten at a certain terme, limitted by their first kynde;

and of hem al governementes in this elemented worlde proceden,

as in springes, constellacions, engendrures, and al that folowen

kynde and reson; wherfore [in] the course that foloweth, sorowe

and joy kyndely moten entrechangen their tymes; so that

alway oon wele, as alway oon wo, may not endure. Thus seest

thou appertly, thy sorowe in-to wele mot ben chaunged; wherfore

in suche case to better syde evermore enclyne thou shuldest.

Trewly, next the ende of sorowe anon entreth joy; by maner

of necessitÈ it wol ne may non other betyde; and so thy conti[n]gence

is disproved; if thou holde this opinion any more, thy

wit is right leude. Wherfore, in ful conclusion of al this, thilke

Margaryte thou desyrest hath ben to thee dere in thy herte, and

for her hast thou suffred many thoughtful diseses; herafter shal

[she] be cause of mokel mirth and joye; and loke how glad canst

thou ben, and cese al thy passed hevinesse with manifolde

joyes. And than wol I as blythly here thee speken thy mirthes

in joye, as I now have y-herd thy sorowes and thy complayntes.

And if I mowe in aught thy joye encrese, by my trouthe, on

my syde shal nat be leved for no maner traveyle, that I with

al my mightes right blythly wol helpe, and ever ben redy you

bothe to plese.' And than thanked I that lady with al goodly

maner that I worthily coude; and trewly I was greetly rejoysed

in myne herte of her fayre behestes; and profered me to be

slawe, in al that she me wolde ordeyne, while my lyf lested.

CHAPTER X.

'Me thinketh,' quod I, 'that ye have right wel declared,

that way to the knot shuld not ben in none of these

disprovinge thinges; and now, order of our purpos this asketh,

that ye shulde me shewe if any way be †thider, and whiche

thilke way shulde ben; so that openly may be seye the verry

hye way in ful confusioun of these other thinges.'

'Thou shalt,' quod she, 'understande that [of] one of three

lyves (as I first sayd) every creature of mankynde is sprongen,

and so forth procedeth. These lyves ben thorow names departed

in three maner of kyndes, as bestialliche, manliche, and resonabliche;

of whiche two ben used by flesshely body, and the thirde

by his soule. "Bestial" among resonables is forboden in every

lawe and every secte, bothe in Cristen and other; for every

wight dispyseth hem that liveth by lustes and delytes, as him

that is thral and bounden servaunt to thinges right foule; suche

ben compted werse than men; he shal nat in their degree ben

rekened, ne for suche one alowed. Heritykes, sayn they, chosen

lyf bestial, that voluptuously liven; so that (as I first sayde to

thee) in manly and resonable livinges our mater was to declare;

but [by] "manly" lyfe, in living after flesshe, or els flesshly wayes

to chese, may nat blisse in this knotte be conquered, as by reson

it is proved. Wherfore by "resonable" lyfe he must nedes it

have, sithe a way is to this knotte, but nat by the firste tway lyves;

wherfore nedes mot it ben to the thirde; and for to live in flesshe,

but nat after flessh, is more resonablich than manliche rekened

by clerkes. Therfore how this way cometh in, I wol it blythely

declare.

See now (quod she) that these bodily goodes of manliche

livinges yelden †sorowfulle stoundes and smertande houres. Who-so

†wol remembre him to their endes, in their worchinges they

ben thoughtful and sorie. Right as a bee that hath had his hony,

anon at his flight beginneth to stinge; so thilke bodily goodes at

the laste mote awaye, and than stinge they at her goinge, wherthrough

entreth and clene voydeth al blisse of this knot.'

'Forsothe,' quod I, 'me thinketh I am wel served, in shewing

of these wordes. Although I hadde litel in respect among other

grete and worthy, yet had I a fair parcel, as me thought, for the

tyme, in forthering of my sustenaunce; whiche while it dured,

I thought me havinge mokel hony to myne estat. I had richesse

suffisauntly to weyve nede; I had dignitÈ to be reverenced in

worship. Power me thought that I had to kepe fro myne enemyes,

and me semed to shyne in glorie of renomÈ as manhood asketh

in mene; for no wight in myne administracion coude non yvels

ne trechery by sothe cause on me putte. Lady, your-selve

weten wel, that of tho confederacies maked by my soverains

I nas but a servaunt, and yet mokel mene folk wol fully ayenst

reson thilke maters maynteyne, in whiche mayntenaunce [they]

glorien them-selfe; and, as often ye haven sayd, therof ought

nothing in yvel to be layd to me-wardes, sithen as repentaunt

I am tourned, and no more I thinke, neither tho thinges ne

none suche other to sustene, but utterly distroye, without medlinge

maner, in al my mightes. How am I now cast out of al

swetnesse of blisse, and mischevously [is] stongen my passed

joy! Soroufully muste I bewayle, and live as a wrecche.

Every of tho joyes is tourned in-to his contrary. For richesse,

now have I povertÈ; for dignitÈ, now am I emprisoned; in

stede of power, wrecchednesse I suffre; and for glorie of renomÈ,

I am now dispysed and foulich hated. Thus hath farn Fortune,

that sodaynly am I overthrowen, and out of al welth dispoyled.

Trewly, me thinketh this way in entree is right hard; god graunt

me better grace er it be al passed; the other way, lady, me

thought right swete.'

'Now, certes,' quod Love, 'me list for to chyde. What ayleth

thy darke dulnesse? Wol it nat in clerenesse ben sharped?

Have I nat by many resons to thee shewed, suche bodily goodes

faylen to yeve blisse, their might so ferforth wol nat strecche?

Shame (quod she) it is to say, thou lyest in thy wordes. Thou

ne hast wist but right fewe that these bodily goodes had al atones;

commenly they dwellen nat togider. He that plentÈ hath in riches,

of his kinne is ashamed; another of linage right noble and wel

knowe, but povert him handleth; he were lever unknowe.

Another hath these, but renomÈ of peoples praysing may he nat

have; overal he is hated and defamed of thinges right foule.

Another is fair and semely, but dignitÈ him fayleth; and he that

hath dignitÈ is croked or lame, or els misshapen and foully dispysed.

Thus partable these goodes dwellen commenly; in one

houshold ben they but silde. Lo! how wrecched is your truste

on thing that wol nat accorde! Me thinketh, thou clepest thilke

plyte thou were in "selinesse of fortune"; and thou sayest, for

that the selinesse is departed, thou art a wrecch. Than foloweth

this upon thy wordes; every soule resonable of man may nat dye;

and if deth endeth selinesse and maketh wrecches, as nedes of

fortune maketh it an ende. Than soules, after deth of the body,

in wrecchednesse shulde liven. But we knowe many that han

geten the blisse of heven after their deth. How than may this

lyf maken men blisful, that whan it passeth it yeveth no wrecchednesse,

and many tymes blisse, if in this lyfe he con live as he

shulde? And wolt thou acompt with Fortune, that now at [t]he

first she hath don thee tene and sorowe? If thou loke to the

maner of al glad thinges and sorouful, thou mayst nat nay it, that

yet, and namely now, thou standest in noble plyte in a good

ginning, with good forth-going herafter. And if thou wene to be

a wrecch, for such welth is passed, why than art thou nat wel

fortunate, for badde thinges and anguis wrecchednesse ben passed?

Art thou now come first in-to the hostry of this lyfe, or els the

both of this worlde? Art thou now a sodayn gest in-to this

wrecched exile? Wenest there be any thing in this erthe stable?

Is nat thy first arest passed, that brought thee in mortal sorowe?

Ben these nat mortal thinges agon with ignorance of beestial wit,

and hast receyved reson in knowing of vertue? What comfort is

in thy herte, the knowinge sikerly in my service [to] be grounded?

And wost thou nat wel, as I said, that deth maketh ende of al

fortune? What than? Standest thou in noble plyte, litel hede

or recking to take, if thou let fortune passe dy[i]ng, or els that

she fly whan her list, now by thy lyve? Pardy, a man hath

nothing so leef as his lyf; and for to holde that, he doth al his

cure and diligent traveyle. Than, say I, thou art blisful and

fortunat sely, if thou knowe thy goodes that thou hast yet

†beleved, whiche nothing may doute that they ne ben more worthy

than thy lyf?'

'What is that?' quod I.

'Good contemplacion,' quod she, 'of wel-doing in vertue in tyme

coming, bothe in plesaunce of me and of thy Margarit-peerle.

Hastely thyn hert in ful blisse with her shal be esed. Therfore dismay

thee nat; Fortune, in hate grevously ayenst thy bodily person,

ne yet to gret tempest hath she nat sent to thee, sithen the holding

cables and ankers of thy lyfe holden by knitting so faste, that

thou discomforte thee nought of tyme that is now, ne dispayre

thee not of tyme to come, but yeven thee comfort in hope of

weldoing, and of getting agayn the double of thy lesing, with

encresing love of thy Margarite-perle therto! For this, hiderto,

thou hast had al her ful daunger; and so thou might amende al

that is misse and al defautes that somtyme thou diddest; and

that now, in al thy tyme, to that ilke Margaryte in ful service of

my lore thyne herte hath continued; wherfore she ought moche

the rather enclyne fro her daungerous sete. These thinges ben

yet knit by the holding anker in thy lyve, and holden mote they;

to god I pray, al these thinges at ful ben perfourmed. For whyle

this anker holdeth, I hope thou shalt safely escape; and [in a]

whyle thy trewe-mening service aboute bringe, in dispyte of al

false meners that thee of-newe haten; for [in] this trewe service

thou art now entred.'

'Certayn,' quod I, 'among thinges I asked a question, whiche

was the way to the knot. Trewly, lady, how-so it be I tempt you

with questions and answers, in speking of my first service, I am

now in ful purpos in the pricke of the herte, that thilke service

was an enprisonment, and alway bad and naughty, in no maner

to be desyred; ne that, in getting of the knot, may it nothing

aveyle. A wyse gentil herte loketh after vertue, and none other

bodily joyes alone. And bycause toforn this in tho wayes I was

set, I wot wel my-selfe I have erred, and of the blisse fayled; and

so out of my way hugely have I ronne.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'that is sothe; and there thou hast miswent,

eschewe the path from hens-forward, I rede. Wonder

I trewly why the mortal folk of this worlde seche these ways

outforth; and it is preved in your-selfe. Lo, how ye ben confounded

with errour and folly! The knowing of very cause and way is

goodnesse and vertue. Is there any thing to thee more precious

than thy-selfe? Thou shalt have in thy power that thou woldest

never lese, and that in no way may be taken fro thee; and thilke

thing is that is cause of this knot. And if deth mowe it nat reve

more than an erthly creature, thilke thing than abydeth with thy-selfe

soule. And so, our conclusion to make, suche a knot, thus

getten, abydeth with this thinge and with the soule, as long as

they laste. A soule dyeth never; vertu and goodnesse evermore

with the soule endureth; and this knot is parfit blisse. Than

this soule in this blisse endlesse shal enduren. Thus shul hertes

of a trewe knot ben esed: thus shul their soules ben plesed: thus

perpetually in joye shul they singe.'

'In good trouth,' quod I, 'here is a good beginning; yeve us

more of this way.'

Quod she, 'I said to thee nat longe sithen, that resonable lyf

was oon of three thinges; and it was proved to the soule.