<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Confessio Amantis. Explicit Prologus</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Incipit Liber Primus</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem<br>Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:<br>Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,<br>Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.<br>Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas<br>Plebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.<br>Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,<br>Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I may noght strecche up to the hevene<br>Min hand, ne setten al in evene<br>This world, which evere is in balance:<br>It stant noght in my sufficance<br>So grete thinges to compasse,<br>Bot I mot lete it overpasse<br>And treten upon othre thinges.<br>Forthi the Stile of my writinges<br>Fro this day forth I thenke change<br>And speke of thing is noght so strange, <br>Which every kinde hath upon honde,<br>And wherupon the world mot stonde,<br>And hath don sithen it began,<br>And schal whil ther is any man;<br>And that is love, of which I mene<br>To trete, as after schal be sene.<br>In which ther can noman him reule,<br>For loves lawe is out of reule,<br>That of tomoche or of tolite<br>Welnyh is every man to wyte, <br>And natheles ther is noman<br>In al this world so wys, that can<br>Of love tempre the mesure,<br>Bot as it falth in aventure:<br>For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,<br>And he which elles wolde him yelpe<br>Is rathest throwen under fote,<br>Ther can no wiht therof do bote.<br>For yet was nevere such covine,<br>That couthe ordeine a medicine <br>To thing which god in lawe of kinde<br>Hath set, for ther may noman finde<br>The rihte salve of such a Sor.<br>It hath and schal ben everemor<br>That love is maister wher he wile,<br>Ther can no lif make other skile;<br>For wher as evere him lest to sette,<br>Ther is no myht which him may lette.<br>Bot what schal fallen ate laste,<br>The sothe can no wisdom caste, <br>Bot as it falleth upon chance;<br>For if ther evere was balance<br>Which of fortune stant governed,<br>I may wel lieve as I am lerned<br>That love hath that balance on honde,<br>Which wol no reson understonde.<br>For love is blind and may noght se,<br>Forthi may no certeinete<br>Be set upon his jugement,<br>Bot as the whiel aboute went <br>He yifth his graces undeserved,<br>And fro that man which hath him served<br>Fulofte he takth aweye his fees,<br>As he that pleieth ate Dees,<br>And therupon what schal befalle<br>He not, til that the chance falle,<br>Wher he schal lese or he schal winne.<br>And thus fulofte men beginne,<br>That if thei wisten what it mente,<br>Thei wolde change al here entente. <br>And forto proven it is so,<br>I am miselven on of tho,<br>Which to this Scole am underfonge.<br>For it is siththe go noght longe,<br>As forto speke of this matiere,<br>I may you telle, if ye woll hiere,<br>A wonder hap which me befell,<br>That was to me bothe hard and fell,<br>Touchende of love and his fortune,<br>The which me liketh to comune <br>And pleinly forto telle it oute.<br>To hem that ben lovers aboute<br>Fro point to point I wol declare<br>And wryten of my woful care,<br>Mi wofull day, my wofull chance,<br>That men mowe take remembrance<br>Of that thei schall hierafter rede:<br>For in good feith this wolde I rede,<br>That every man ensample take<br>Of wisdom which him is betake, <br>And that he wot of good aprise<br>To teche it forth, for such emprise<br>Is forto preise; and therfore I<br>Woll wryte and schewe al openly<br>How love and I togedre mette,<br>Wherof the world ensample fette<br>Mai after this, whan I am go,<br>Of thilke unsely jolif wo,<br>Whos reule stant out of the weie,<br>Nou glad and nou gladnesse aweie, <br>And yet it may noght be withstonde<br>For oght that men may understonde.<br>Upon the point that is befalle<br>Of love, in which that I am falle,<br>I thenke telle my matiere:<br>Now herkne, who that wol it hiere,<br>Of my fortune how that it ferde.<br>This enderday, as I forthferde<br>To walke, as I yow telle may,-<br>And that was in the Monthe of Maii, <br>Whan every brid hath chose his make<br>And thenkth his merthes forto make<br>Of love that he hath achieved;<br>Bot so was I nothing relieved,<br>For I was further fro my love<br>Than Erthe is fro the hevene above,<br>As forto speke of eny sped:<br>So wiste I me non other red,<br>Bot as it were a man forfare<br>Unto the wode I gan to fare, <br>Noght forto singe with the briddes,<br>For whanne I was the wode amiddes,<br>I fond a swote grene pleine,<br>And ther I gan my wo compleigne<br>Wisshinge and wepinge al myn one,<br>For other merthes made I none.<br>So hard me was that ilke throwe,<br>That ofte sithes overthrowe<br>To grounde I was withoute breth;<br>And evere I wisshide after deth, <br>Whanne I out of my peine awok,<br>And caste up many a pitous lok<br>Unto the hevene, and seide thus:<br>'O thou Cupide, O thou Venus,<br>Thou god of love and thou goddesse,<br>Wher is pite? wher is meknesse?<br>Now doth me pleinly live or dye,<br>For certes such a maladie<br>As I now have and longe have hadd,<br>It myhte make a wisman madd, <br>If that it scholde longe endure.<br>O Venus, queene of loves cure,<br>Thou lif, thou lust, thou mannes hele,<br>Behold my cause and my querele,<br>And yif me som part of thi grace,<br>So that I may finde in this place<br>If thou be gracious or non.'<br>And with that word I sawh anon<br>The kyng of love and qweene bothe;<br>Bot he that kyng with yhen wrothe <br>His chiere aweiward fro me caste,<br>And forth he passede ate laste.<br>Bot natheles er he forth wente<br>A firy Dart me thoghte he hente<br>And threw it thurgh myn herte rote:<br>In him fond I non other bote,<br>For lenger list him noght to duelle.<br>Bot sche that is the Source and Welle<br>Of wel or wo, that schal betide<br>To hem that loven, at that tide <br>Abod, bot forto tellen hiere<br>Sche cast on me no goodly chiere:<br>Thus natheles to me sche seide,<br>'What art thou, Sone?' and I abreide<br>Riht as a man doth out of slep,<br>And therof tok sche riht good kep<br>And bad me nothing ben adrad:<br>Bot for al that I was noght glad,<br>For I ne sawh no cause why.<br>And eft scheo asketh, what was I: <br>I seide, 'A Caitif that lith hiere:<br>What wolde ye, my Ladi diere?<br>Schal I ben hol or elles dye?'<br>Sche seide, 'Tell thi maladie:<br>What is thi Sor of which thou pleignest?<br>Ne hyd it noght, for if thou feignest,<br>I can do the no medicine.'<br>'Ma dame, I am a man of thyne,<br>That in thi Court have longe served,<br>And aske that I have deserved, <br>Some wele after my longe wo.'<br>And sche began to loure tho,<br>And seide, 'Ther is manye of yow<br>Faitours, and so may be that thow<br>Art riht such on, and be feintise<br>Seist that thou hast me do servise.'<br>And natheles sche wiste wel,<br>Mi world stod on an other whiel<br>Withouten eny faiterie:<br>Bot algate of my maladie <br>Sche bad me telle and seie hir trowthe.<br>'Ma dame, if ye wolde have rowthe,'<br>Quod I, 'than wolde I telle yow.'<br>'Sey forth,' quod sche, 'and tell me how;<br>Schew me thi seknesse everydiel.'<br>'Ma dame, that can I do wel,<br>Be so my lif therto wol laste.'<br>With that hir lok on me sche caste,<br>And seide: 'In aunter if thou live,<br>Mi will is ferst that thou be schrive; <br>And natheles how that it is<br>I wot miself, bot for al this<br>Unto my prest, which comth anon,<br>I woll thou telle it on and on,<br>Bothe all thi thoght and al thi werk.<br>O Genius myn oghne Clerk,<br>Com forth and hier this mannes schrifte,'<br>Quod Venus tho; and I uplifte<br>Min hefd with that, and gan beholde<br>The selve Prest, which as sche wolde <br>Was redy there and sette him doun<br>To hiere my confessioun.<br>This worthi Prest, this holy man<br>To me spekende thus began,<br>And seide: 'Benedicite,<br>Mi Sone, of the felicite<br>Of love and ek of all the wo<br>Thou schalt thee schrive of bothe tuo.<br>What thou er this for loves sake<br>Hast felt, let nothing be forsake, <br>Tell pleinliche as it is befalle.'<br>And with that word I gan doun falle<br>On knees, and with devocioun<br>And with full gret contricioun<br>I seide thanne: 'Dominus,<br>Min holi fader Genius,<br>So as thou hast experience<br>Of love, for whos reverence<br>Thou schalt me schriven at this time,<br>I prai the let me noght mistime <br>Mi schrifte, for I am destourbed<br>In al myn herte, and so contourbed,<br>That I ne may my wittes gete,<br>So schal I moche thing foryete:<br>Bot if thou wolt my schrifte oppose<br>Fro point to point, thanne I suppose,<br>Ther schal nothing be left behinde.<br>Bot now my wittes ben so blinde,<br>That I ne can miselven teche.'<br>Tho he began anon to preche, <br>And with his wordes debonaire<br>He seide tome softe and faire:<br>'Thi schrifte to oppose and hiere,<br>My Sone, I am assigned hiere<br>Be Venus the godesse above,<br>Whos Prest I am touchende of love.<br>Bot natheles for certein skile<br>I mot algate and nedes wile<br>Noght only make my spekynges<br>Of love, bot of othre thinges, <br>That touchen to the cause of vice.<br>For that belongeth to thoffice<br>Of Prest, whos ordre that I bere,<br>So that I wol nothing forbere,<br>That I the vices on and on<br>Ne schal thee schewen everychon;<br>Wherof thou myht take evidence<br>To reule with thi conscience.<br>Bot of conclusion final<br>Conclude I wol in special <br>For love, whos servant I am,<br>And why the cause is that I cam.<br>So thenke I to don bothe tuo,<br>Ferst that myn ordre longeth to,<br>The vices forto telle arewe,<br>Bot next above alle othre schewe<br>Of love I wol the propretes,<br>How that thei stonde be degrees<br>After the disposicioun<br>Of Venus, whos condicioun <br>I moste folwe, as I am holde.<br>For I with love am al withholde,<br>So that the lasse I am to wyte,<br>Thogh I ne conne bot a lyte<br>Of othre thinges that ben wise:<br>I am noght tawht in such a wise;<br>For it is noght my comun us<br>To speke of vices and vertus,<br>Bot al of love and of his lore,<br>For Venus bokes of nomore <br>Me techen nowther text ne glose.<br>Bot for als moche as I suppose<br>It sit a prest to be wel thewed,<br>And schame it is if he be lewed,<br>Of my Presthode after the forme<br>I wol thi schrifte so enforme,<br>That ate leste thou schalt hiere<br>The vices, and to thi matiere<br>Of love I schal hem so remene,<br>That thou schalt knowe what thei mene. <br>For what a man schal axe or sein<br>Touchende of schrifte, it mot be plein,<br>It nedeth noght to make it queinte,<br>For trowthe hise wordes wol noght peinte:<br>That I wole axe of the forthi,<br>My Sone, it schal be so pleinly,<br>That thou schalt knowe and understonde<br>The pointz of schrifte how that thei stonde.'<br>Betwen the lif and deth I herde<br>This Prestes tale er I answerde, <br>And thanne I preide him forto seie<br>His will, and I it wolde obeie<br>After the forme of his apprise.<br>Tho spak he tome in such a wise,<br>And bad me that I scholde schrive<br>As touchende of my wittes fyve,<br>And schape that thei were amended<br>Of that I hadde hem misdispended.<br>For tho be proprely the gates,<br>Thurgh whiche as to the herte algates <br>Comth alle thing unto the feire,<br>Which may the mannes Soule empeire.<br>And now this matiere is broght inne,<br>Mi Sone, I thenke ferst beginne<br>To wite how that thin yhe hath stonde,<br>The which is, as I understonde,<br>The moste principal of alle,<br>Thurgh whom that peril mai befalle.<br>And forto speke in loves kinde,<br>Ful manye suche a man mai finde, <br>Whiche evere caste aboute here yhe,<br>To loke if that thei myhte aspie<br>Fulofte thing which hem ne toucheth,<br>Bot only that here herte soucheth<br>In hindringe of an other wiht;<br>And thus ful many a worthi knyht<br>And many a lusti lady bothe<br>Have be fulofte sythe wrothe.<br>So that an yhe is as a thief<br>To love, and doth ful gret meschief; <br>And also for his oghne part<br>Fulofte thilke firy Dart<br>Of love, which that evere brenneth,<br>Thurgh him into the herte renneth:<br>And thus a mannes yhe ferst<br>Himselve grieveth alther werst,<br>And many a time that he knoweth<br>Unto his oghne harm it groweth.<br>Mi Sone, herkne now forthi<br>A tale, to be war therby <br>Thin yhe forto kepe and warde,<br>So that it passe noght his warde.<br>Ovide telleth in his bok<br>Ensample touchende of mislok,<br>And seith hou whilom ther was on,<br>A worthi lord, which Acteon<br>Was hote, and he was cousin nyh<br>To him that Thebes ferst on hyh<br>Up sette, which king Cadme hyhte.<br>This Acteon, as he wel myhte, <br>Above alle othre caste his chiere,<br>And used it fro yer to yere,<br>With Houndes and with grete Hornes<br>Among the wodes and the thornes<br>To make his hunting and his chace:<br>Where him best thoghte in every place<br>To finde gamen in his weie,<br>Ther rod he forto hunte and pleie.<br>So him befell upon a tide<br>On his hunting as he cam ride, <br>In a Forest al one he was:<br>He syh upon the grene gras<br>The faire freisshe floures springe,<br>He herde among the leves singe<br>The Throstle with the nyhtingale:<br>Thus er he wiste into a Dale<br>He cam, wher was a litel plein,<br>All round aboute wel besein<br>With buisshes grene and Cedres hyhe;<br>And ther withinne he caste his yhe. <br>Amidd the plein he syh a welle,<br>So fair ther myhte noman telle,<br>In which Diana naked stod<br>To bathe and pleie hire in the flod<br>With many a Nimphe, which hire serveth.<br>Bot he his yhe awey ne swerveth<br>Fro hire, which was naked al,<br>And sche was wonder wroth withal,<br>And him, as sche which was godesse,<br>Forschop anon, and the liknesse <br>Sche made him taken of an Hert,<br>Which was tofore hise houndes stert,<br>That ronne besiliche aboute<br>With many an horn and many a route,<br>That maden mochel noise and cry:<br>And ate laste unhappely<br>This Hert his oghne houndes slowhe<br>And him for vengance al todrowhe.<br>Lo now, my Sone, what it is<br>A man to caste his yhe amis, <br>Which Acteon hath dere aboght;<br>Be war forthi and do it noght.<br>For ofte, who that hiede toke,<br>Betre is to winke than to loke.<br>And forto proven it is so,<br>Ovide the Poete also<br>A tale which to this matiere<br>Acordeth seith, as thou schalt hiere.<br>In Metamor it telleth thus,<br>How that a lord which Phorce
s <br>Was hote, hadde dowhtres thre.<br>Bot upon here nativite<br>Such was the constellacion,<br>That out of mannes nacion<br>Fro kynde thei be so miswent,<br>That to the liknesse of Serpent<br>Thei were bore, and so that on<br>Of hem was cleped Stellibon,<br>That other soster Suriale,<br>The thridde, as telleth in the tale, <br>Medusa hihte, and natheles<br>Of comun name Gorgones<br>In every contre ther aboute,<br>As Monstres whiche that men doute,<br>Men clepen hem; and bot on yhe<br>Among hem thre in pourpartie<br>Thei hadde, of which thei myhte se,<br>Now hath it this, now hath it sche;<br>After that cause and nede it ladde,<br>Be throwes ech of hem it hadde. <br>A wonder thing yet more amis<br>Ther was, wherof I telle al this:<br>What man on hem his chiere caste<br>And hem behield, he was als faste<br>Out of a man into a Ston<br>Forschape, and thus ful manyon<br>Deceived were, of that thei wolde<br>Misloke, wher that thei ne scholde.<br>Bot Perse
s that worthi knyht,<br>Whom Pallas of hir grete myht <br>Halp, and tok him a Schield therto,<br>And ek the god Mercurie also<br>Lente him a swerd, he, as it fell,<br>Beyende Athlans the hihe hell<br>These Monstres soghte, and there he fond<br>Diverse men of thilke lond<br>Thurgh sihte of hem mistorned were,<br>Stondende as Stones hiere and there.<br>Bot he, which wisdom and prouesse<br>Hadde of the god and the godesse, <br>The Schield of Pallas gan enbrace,<br>With which he covereth sauf his face,<br>Mercuries Swerd and out he drowh,<br>And so he bar him that he slowh<br>These dredful Monstres alle thre.<br>Lo now, my Sone, avise the,<br>That thou thi sihte noght misuse:<br>Cast noght thin yhe upon Meduse,<br>That thou be torned into Ston:<br>For so wys man was nevere non, <br>Bot if he wel his yhe kepe<br>And take of fol delit no kepe,<br>That he with lust nys ofte nome,<br>Thurgh strengthe of love and overcome.<br>Of mislokynge how it hath ferd,<br>As I have told, now hast thou herd,<br>My goode Sone, and tak good hiede.<br>And overthis yet I thee rede<br>That thou be war of thin heringe,<br>Which to the Herte the tidinge <br>Of many a vanite hath broght,<br>To tarie with a mannes thoght.<br>And natheles good is to hiere<br>Such thing wherof a man may lere<br>That to vertu is acordant,<br>And toward al the remenant<br>Good is to torne his Ere fro;<br>For elles, bot a man do so,<br>Him may fulofte mysbefalle.<br>I rede ensample amonges alle, <br>Wherof to kepe wel an Ere<br>It oghte pute a man in fere.<br>A Serpent, which that Aspidis<br>Is cleped, of his kynde hath this,<br>That he the Ston noblest of alle,<br>The which that men Carbuncle calle,<br>Berth in his hed above on heihte.<br>For which whan that a man be sleyhte,<br>The Ston to winne and him to daunte,<br>With his carecte him wolde enchaunte, <br>Anon as he perceiveth that,<br>He leith doun his on Ere al plat<br>Unto the ground, and halt it faste,<br>And ek that other Ere als faste<br>He stoppeth with his tail so sore,<br>That he the wordes lasse or more<br>Of his enchantement ne hiereth;<br>And in this wise himself he skiereth,<br>So that he hath the wordes weyved<br>And thurgh his Ere is noght deceived. <br>An othre thing, who that recordeth,<br>Lich unto this ensample acordeth,<br>Which in the tale of Troie I finde.<br>Sirenes of a wonder kynde<br>Ben Monstres, as the bokes tellen,<br>And in the grete Se thei duellen:<br>Of body bothe and of visage<br>Lik unto wommen of yong age<br>Up fro the Navele on hih thei be,<br>And doun benethe, as men mai se, <br>Thei bere of fisshes the figure.<br>And overthis of such nature<br>Thei ben, that with so swete a stevene<br>Lik to the melodie of hevene<br>In wommanysshe vois thei singe,<br>With notes of so gret likinge,<br>Of such mesure, of such musike,<br>Wherof the Schipes thei beswike<br>That passen be the costes there.<br>For whan the Schipmen leie an Ere <br>Unto the vois, in here avys<br>Thei wene it be a Paradys,<br>Which after is to hem an helle.<br>For reson may noght with hem duelle,<br>Whan thei tho grete lustes hiere;<br>Thei conne noght here Schipes stiere,<br>So besiliche upon the note<br>Thei herkne, and in such wise assote,<br>That thei here rihte cours and weie<br>Foryete, and to here Ere obeie, <br>And seilen til it so befalle<br>That thei into the peril falle,<br>Where as the Schipes be todrawe,<br>And thei ben with the Monstres slawe.<br>Bot fro this peril natheles<br>With his wisdom king Uluxes<br>Ascapeth and it overpasseth;<br>For he tofor the hond compasseth<br>That noman of his compaignie<br>Hath pouer unto that folie <br>His Ere for no lust to caste;<br>For he hem stoppede alle faste,<br>That non of hem mai hiere hem singe.<br>So whan they comen forth seilinge,<br>Ther was such governance on honde,<br>That thei the Monstres have withstonde<br>And slain of hem a gret partie.<br>Thus was he sauf with his navie,<br>This wise king, thurgh governance.<br>Wherof, my Sone, in remembrance <br>Thou myht ensample taken hiere,<br>As I have told, and what thou hiere<br>Be wel war, and yif no credence,<br>Bot if thou se more evidence.<br>For if thou woldest take kepe<br>And wisly cowthest warde and kepe<br>Thin yhe and Ere, as I have spoke,<br>Than haddest thou the gates stoke<br>Fro such Sotie as comth to winne<br>Thin hertes wit, which is withinne, <br>Wherof that now thi love excedeth<br>Mesure, and many a peine bredeth.<br>Bot if thou cowthest sette in reule<br>Tho tuo, the thre were eth to reule:<br>Forthi as of thi wittes five<br>I wole as now nomore schryve,<br>Bot only of these ilke tuo.<br>Tell me therfore if it be so,<br>Hast thou thin yhen oght misthrowe?<br>Mi fader, ye, I am beknowe, <br>I have hem cast upon Meduse,<br>Therof I may me noght excuse:<br>Min herte is growen into Ston,<br>So that my lady therupon<br>Hath such a priente of love grave,<br>That I can noght miselve save.<br>What seist thou, Sone, as of thin Ere?<br>Mi fader, I am gultyf there;<br>For whanne I may my lady hiere,<br>Mi wit with that hath lost his Stiere: <br>I do noght as Uluxes dede,<br>Bot falle anon upon the stede,<br>Wher as I se my lady stonde;<br>And there, I do yow understonde,<br>I am topulled in my thoght,<br>So that of reson leveth noght,<br>Wherof that I me mai defende.<br>My goode Sone, god thamende:<br>For as me thenketh be thi speche<br>Thi wittes ben riht feer to seche. <br>As of thin Ere and of thin yhe<br>I woll nomore specefie,<br>Bot I woll axen overthis<br>Of othre thing how that it is.<br>Mi Sone, as I thee schal enforme,<br>Ther ben yet of an other forme<br>Of dedly vices sevene applied,<br>Wherof the herte is ofte plied<br>To thing which after schal him grieve.<br>The ferste of hem thou schalt believe <br>Is Pride, which is principal,<br>And hath with him in special<br>Ministres five ful diverse,<br>Of whiche, as I the schal reherse,<br>The ferste is seid Ypocrisie.<br>If thou art of his compaignie,<br>Tell forth, my Sone, and schrif the clene.<br>I wot noght, fader, what ye mene:<br>Bot this I wolde you beseche,<br>That ye me be som weie teche <br>What is to ben an ypocrite;<br>And thanne if I be forto wyte,<br>I wol beknowen, as it is.<br>Mi Sone, an ypocrite is this,-<br>A man which feigneth conscience,<br>As thogh it were al innocence,<br>Withoute, and is noght so withinne;<br>And doth so for he wolde winne<br>Of his desir the vein astat.<br>And whanne he comth anon therat, <br>He scheweth thanne what he was,<br>The corn is torned into gras,<br>That was a Rose is thanne a thorn,<br>And he that was a Lomb beforn<br>Is thanne a Wolf, and thus malice<br>Under the colour of justice<br>Is hid; and as the poeple telleth,<br>These ordres witen where he duelleth,<br>As he that of here conseil is,<br>And thilke world which thei er this <br>Forsoken, he drawth in ayein:<br>He clotheth richesse, as men sein,<br>Under the simplesce of poverte,<br>And doth to seme of gret decerte<br>Thing which is litel worth withinne:<br>He seith in open, fy! to Sinne,<br>And in secre ther is no vice<br>Of which that he nis a Norrice:<br>And evere his chiere is sobre and softe,<br>And where he goth he blesseth ofte, <br>Wherof the blinde world he dreccheth.<br>Bot yet al only he ne streccheth<br>His reule upon religioun,<br>Bot next to that condicioun<br>In suche as clepe hem holy cherche<br>It scheweth ek how he can werche<br>Among tho wyde furred hodes,<br>To geten hem the worldes goodes.<br>And thei hemself ben thilke same<br>That setten most the world in blame, <br>Bot yet in contraire of her lore<br>Ther is nothing thei loven more;<br>So that semende of liht thei werke<br>The dedes whiche are inward derke.<br>And thus this double Ypocrisie<br>With his devolte apparantie<br>A viser set upon his face,<br>Wherof toward this worldes grace<br>He semeth to be riht wel thewed,<br>And yit his herte is al beschrewed. <br>Bot natheles he stant believed,<br>And hath his pourpos ofte achieved<br>Of worschipe and of worldes welthe,<br>And takth it, as who seith, be stelthe<br>Thurgh coverture of his fallas.<br>And riht so in semblable cas<br>This vice hath ek his officers<br>Among these othre seculers<br>Of grete men, for of the smale<br>As for tacompte he set no tale, <br>Bot thei that passen the comune<br>With suche him liketh to comune,<br>And where he seith he wol socoure<br>The poeple, there he woll devoure;<br>For now aday is manyon<br>Which spekth of Peter and of John<br>And thenketh Judas in his herte.<br>Ther schal no worldes good asterte<br>His hond, and yit he yifth almesse<br>And fasteth ofte and hiereth Messe: <br>With mea culpa, which he seith,<br>Upon his brest fullofte he leith<br>His hond, and cast upward his yhe,<br>As thogh he Cristes face syhe;<br>So that it seemeth ate syhte,<br>As he al one alle othre myhte<br>Rescoue with his holy bede.<br>Bot yet his herte in other stede<br>Among hise bedes most devoute<br>Goth in the worldes cause aboute, <br>How that he myhte his warisoun<br>Encresce. And in comparisoun<br>Ther ben lovers of such a sort,<br>That feignen hem an humble port,<br>And al is bot Ypocrisie,<br>Which with deceipte and flaterie<br>Hath many a worthi wif beguiled.<br>For whanne he hath his tunge affiled,<br>With softe speche and with lesinge,<br>Forth with his fals pitous lokynge, <br>He wolde make a womman wene<br>To gon upon the faire grene,<br>Whan that sche falleth in the Mir.<br>For if he may have his desir,<br>How so falle of the remenant,<br>He halt no word of covenant;<br>Bot er the time that he spede,<br>Ther is no sleihte at thilke nede,<br>Which eny loves faitour mai,<br>That he ne put it in assai, <br>As him belongeth forto done.<br>The colour of the reyni Mone<br>With medicine upon his face<br>He set, and thanne he axeth grace,<br>As he which hath sieknesse feigned.<br>Whan his visage is so desteigned,<br>With yhe upcast on hire he siketh,<br>And many a contenance he piketh,<br>To bringen hire in to believe<br>Of thing which that he wolde achieve, <br>Wherof he berth the pale hewe;<br>And for he wolde seme trewe,<br>He makth him siek, whan he is heil.<br>Bot whanne he berth lowest the Seil,<br>Thanne is he swiftest to beguile<br>The womman, which that ilke while<br>Set upon him feith or credence.<br>Mi Sone, if thou thi conscience<br>Entamed hast in such a wise,<br>In schrifte thou thee myht avise <br>And telle it me, if it be so.<br>Min holy fader, certes no.<br>As forto feigne such sieknesse<br>It nedeth noght, for this witnesse<br>I take of god, that my corage<br>Hath ben mor siek than my visage.<br>And ek this mai I wel avowe,<br>So lowe cowthe I nevere bowe<br>To feigne humilite withoute,<br>That me ne leste betre loute <br>With alle the thoghtes of myn herte;<br>For that thing schal me nevere asterte,<br>I speke as to my lady diere,<br>To make hire eny feigned chiere.<br>God wot wel there I lye noght,<br>Mi chiere hath be such as my thoght;<br>For in good feith, this lieveth wel,<br>Mi will was betre a thousendel<br>Than eny chiere that I cowthe.<br>Bot, Sire, if I have in my yowthe <br>Don other wise in other place,<br>I put me therof in your grace:<br>For this excusen I ne schal,<br>That I have elles overal<br>To love and to his compaignie<br>Be plein withoute Ypocrisie;<br>Bot ther is on the which I serve,<br>Althogh I may no thonk deserve,<br>To whom yet nevere into this day<br>I seide onlyche or ye or nay, <br>Bot if it so were in my thoght.<br>As touchende othre seie I noght<br>That I nam somdel forto wyte<br>Of that ye clepe an ypocrite.<br>Mi Sone, it sit wel every wiht<br>To kepe his word in trowthe upryht<br>Towardes love in alle wise.<br>For who that wolde him wel avise<br>What hath befalle in this matiere,<br>He scholde noght with feigned chiere <br>Deceive Love in no degre.<br>To love is every herte fre,<br>Bot in deceipte if that thou feignest<br>And therupon thi lust atteignest,<br>That thow hast wonne with thi wyle,<br>Thogh it thee like for a whyle,<br>Thou schalt it afterward repente.<br>And forto prove myn entente,<br>I finde ensample in a Croniqe<br>Of hem that love so beswike. <br>It fell be olde daies thus,<br>Whil themperour Tiberius<br>The Monarchie of Rome ladde,<br>Ther was a worthi Romein hadde<br>A wif, and sche Pauline hihte,<br>Which was to every mannes sihte<br>Of al the Cite the faireste,<br>And as men seiden, ek the beste.<br>It is and hath ben evere yit,<br>That so strong is no mannes wit, <br>Which thurgh beaute ne mai be drawe<br>To love, and stonde under the lawe<br>Of thilke bore frele kinde,<br>Which makth the hertes yhen blinde,<br>Wher no reson mai be comuned:<br>And in this wise stod fortuned<br>This tale, of which I wolde mene;<br>This wif, which in hire lustes grene<br>Was fair and freissh and tendre of age,<br>Sche may noght lette the corage <br>Of him that wole on hire assote.<br>Ther was a Duck, and he was hote<br>Mundus, which hadde in his baillie<br>To lede the chivalerie<br>Of Rome, and was a worthi knyht;<br>Bot yet he was noght of such myht<br>The strengthe of love to withstonde,<br>That he ne was so broght to honde,<br>That malgre wher he wole or no,<br>This yonge wif he loveth so, <br>That he hath put al his assay<br>To wynne thing which he ne may<br>Gete of hire graunt in no manere,<br>Be yifte of gold ne be preiere.<br>And whanne he syh that be no mede<br>Toward hir love he myhte spede,<br>Be sleyhte feigned thanne he wroghte;<br>And therupon he him bethoghte<br>How that ther was in the Cite<br>A temple of such auctorite, <br>To which with gret Devocioun<br>The noble wommen of the toun<br>Most comunliche a pelrinage<br>Gon forto preie thilke ymage<br>Which the godesse of childinge is,<br>And cleped was be name Ysis:<br>And in hire temple thanne were,<br>To reule and to ministre there<br>After the lawe which was tho,<br>Above alle othre Prestes tuo. <br>This Duck, which thoghte his love gete,<br>Upon a day hem tuo to mete<br>Hath bede, and thei come at his heste;<br>Wher that thei hadde a riche feste,<br>And after mete in prive place<br>This lord, which wolde his thonk pourchace,<br>To ech of hem yaf thanne a yifte,<br>And spak so that be weie of schrifte<br>He drowh hem unto his covine,<br>To helpe and schape how he Pauline <br>After his lust deceive myhte.<br>And thei here trowthes bothe plyhte,<br>That thei be nyhte hire scholden wynne<br>Into the temple, and he therinne<br>Schal have of hire al his entente:<br>And thus acorded forth thei wente.<br>Now lest thurgh which ypocrisie<br>Ordeigned was the tricherie,<br>Wherof this ladi was deceived.<br>These Prestes hadden wel conceived <br>That sche was of gret holinesse;<br>And with a contrefet simplesse,<br>Which hid was in a fals corage,<br>Feignende an hevenely message<br>Thei come and seide unto hir thus:<br>'Pauline, the god Anubus<br>Hath sent ous bothe Prestes hiere,<br>And seith he woll to thee appiere<br>Be nyhtes time himself alone,<br>For love he hath to thi persone: <br>And therupon he hath ous bede,<br>That we in Ysis temple a stede<br>Honestely for thee pourveie,<br>Wher thou be nyhte, as we thee seie,<br>Of him schalt take avisioun.<br>For upon thi condicioun,<br>The which is chaste and ful of feith,<br>Such pris, as he ous tolde, he leith,<br>That he wol stonde of thin acord;<br>And forto bere hierof record <br>He sende ous hider bothe tuo.'<br>Glad was hire innocence tho<br>Of suche wordes as sche herde,<br>With humble chiere and thus answerde,<br>And seide that the goddes wille<br>Sche was al redy to fulfille,<br>That be hire housebondes leve<br>Sche wolde in Ysis temple at eve<br>Upon hire goddes grace abide,<br>To serven him the nyhtes tide. <br>The Prestes tho gon hom ayein,<br>And sche goth to hire sovereign,<br>Of goddes wille and as it was<br>Sche tolde him al the pleine cas,<br>Wherof he was deceived eke,<br>And bad that sche hire scholde meke<br>Al hol unto the goddes heste.<br>And thus sche, which was al honeste<br>To godward after hire entente,<br>At nyht unto the temple wente, <br>Wher that the false Prestes were;<br>And thei receiven hire there<br>With such a tokne of holinesse,<br>As thogh thei syhen a godesse,<br>And al withinne in prive place<br>A softe bedd of large space<br>Thei hadde mad and encourtined,<br>Wher sche was afterward engined.<br>Bot sche, which al honour supposeth,<br>The false Prestes thanne opposeth, <br>And axeth be what observance<br>Sche myhte most to the plesance<br>Of godd that nyhtes reule kepe:<br>And thei hire bidden forto slepe<br>Liggende upon the bedd alofte,<br>For so, thei seide, al stille and softe<br>God Anubus hire wolde awake.<br>The conseil in this wise take,<br>The Prestes fro this lady gon;<br>And sche, that wiste of guile non, <br>In the manere as it was seid<br>To slepe upon the bedd is leid,<br>In hope that sche scholde achieve<br>Thing which stod thanne upon bilieve,<br>Fulfild of alle holinesse.<br>Bot sche hath failed, as I gesse,<br>For in a closet faste by<br>The Duck was hid so prively<br>That sche him myhte noght perceive;<br>And he, that thoghte to deceive, <br>Hath such arrai upon him nome,<br>That whanne he wolde unto hir come,<br>It scholde semen at hire yhe<br>As thogh sche verrailiche syhe<br>God Anubus, and in such wise<br>This ypocrite of his queintise<br>Awaiteth evere til sche slepte.<br>And thanne out of his place he crepte<br>So stille that sche nothing herde,<br>And to the bedd stalkende he ferde, <br>And sodeinly, er sche it wiste,<br>Beclipt in armes he hire kiste:<br>Wherof in wommanysshe drede<br>Sche wok and nyste what to rede;<br>Bot he with softe wordes milde<br>Conforteth hire and seith, with childe<br>He wolde hire make in such a kynde<br>That al the world schal have in mynde<br>The worschipe of that ilke Sone;<br>For he schal with the goddes wone, <br>And ben himself a godd also.<br>With suche wordes and with mo,<br>The whiche he feigneth in his speche,<br>This lady wit was al to seche,<br>As sche which alle trowthe weneth:<br>Bot he, that alle untrowthe meneth,<br>With blinde tales so hire ladde,<br>That all his wille of hire he hadde.<br>And whan him thoghte it was ynowh,<br>Ayein the day he him withdrowh <br>So prively that sche ne wiste<br>Wher he becom, bot as him liste<br>Out of the temple he goth his weie.<br>And sche began to bidde and preie<br>Upon the bare ground knelende,<br>And after that made hire offrende,<br>And to the Prestes yiftes grete<br>Sche yaf, and homward be the Strete.<br>The Duck hire mette and seide thus:<br>'The myhti godd which Anubus <br>Is hote, he save the, Pauline,<br>For thou art of his discipline<br>So holy, that no mannes myht<br>Mai do that he hath do to nyht<br>Of thing which thou hast evere eschuied.<br>Bot I his grace have so poursuied,<br>That I was mad his lieutenant:<br>Forthi be weie of covenant<br>Fro this day forth I am al thin,<br>And if thee like to be myn, <br>That stant upon thin oghne wille.'<br>Sche herde his tale and bar it stille,<br>And hom sche wente, as it befell,<br>Into hir chambre, and ther sche fell<br>Upon hire bedd to wepe and crie,<br>And seide: 'O derke ypocrisie,<br>Thurgh whos dissimilacion<br>Of fals ymaginacion<br>I am thus wickedly deceived!<br>Bot that I have it aperceived <br>I thonke unto the goddes alle;<br>For thogh it ones be befalle,<br>It schal nevere eft whil that I live,<br>And thilke avou to godd I yive.'<br>And thus wepende sche compleigneth,<br>Hire faire face and al desteigneth<br>With wofull teres of hire ije,<br>So that upon this agonie<br>Hire housebonde is inne come,<br>And syh how sche was overcome <br>With sorwe, and axeth what hire eileth.<br>And sche with that hirself beweileth<br>Welmore than sche dede afore,<br>And seide, 'Helas, wifhode is lore<br>In me, which whilom was honeste,<br>I am non other than a beste,<br>Now I defouled am of tuo.'<br>And as sche myhte speke tho,<br>Aschamed with a pitous onde<br>Sche tolde unto hir housebonde <br>The sothe of al the hole tale,<br>And in hire speche ded and pale<br>Sche swouneth welnyh to the laste.<br>And he hire in hise armes faste<br>Uphield, and ofte swor his oth<br>That he with hire is nothing wroth,<br>For wel he wot sche may ther noght:<br>Bot natheles withinne his thoght<br>His herte stod in sori plit,<br>And seide he wolde of that despit <br>Be venged, how so evere it falle,<br>And sende unto hise frendes alle.<br>And whan thei weren come in fere,<br>He tolde hem upon this matiere,<br>And axeth hem what was to done:<br>And thei avised were sone,<br>And seide it thoghte hem for the beste<br>To sette ferst his wif in reste,<br>And after pleigne to the king<br>Upon the matiere of this thing. <br>Tho was this wofull wif conforted<br>Be alle weies and desported,<br>Til that sche was somdiel amended;<br>And thus a day or tuo despended,<br>The thridde day sche goth to pleigne<br>With many a worthi Citezeine,<br>And he with many a Citezein.<br>Whan themperour it herde sein,<br>And knew the falshed of the vice,<br>He seide he wolde do justice: <br>And ferst he let the Prestes take,<br>And for thei scholde it noght forsake,<br>He put hem into questioun;<br>Bot thei of the suggestioun<br>Ne couthen noght a word refuse,<br>Bot for thei wolde hemself excuse,<br>The blame upon the Duck thei leide.<br>Bot therayein the conseil seide<br>That thei be noght excused so,<br>For he is on and thei ben tuo, <br>And tuo han more wit then on,<br>So thilke excusement was non.<br>And over that was seid hem eke,<br>That whan men wolden vertu seke,<br>Men scholde it in the Prestes finde;<br>Here ordre is of so hyh a kinde,<br>That thei be Duistres of the weie:<br>Forthi, if eny man forsueie<br>Thurgh hem, thei be noght excusable.<br>And thus be lawe resonable <br>Among the wise jugges there<br>The Prestes bothe dampned were,<br>So that the prive tricherie<br>Hid under fals Ipocrisie<br>Was thanne al openliche schewed,<br>That many a man hem hath beschrewed.<br>And whan the Prestes weren dede,<br>The temple of thilke horrible dede<br>Thei thoghten purge, and thilke ymage,<br>Whos cause was the pelrinage, <br>Thei drowen out and als so faste<br>Fer into Tibre thei it caste,<br>Wher the Rivere it hath defied:<br>And thus the temple purified<br>Thei have of thilke horrible Sinne,<br>Which was that time do therinne.<br>Of this point such was the juise,<br>Bot of the Duck was other wise:<br>For he with love was bestad,<br>His dom was noght so harde lad; <br>For Love put reson aweie<br>And can noght se the rihte weie.<br>And be this cause he was respited,<br>So that the deth him was acquited,<br>Bot for al that he was exiled,<br>For he his love hath so beguiled,<br>That he schal nevere come ayein:<br>For who that is to trowthe unplein,<br>He may noght failen of vengance.<br>And ek to take remembrance <br>Of that Ypocrisie hath wroght<br>On other half, men scholde noght<br>To lihtly lieve al that thei hiere,<br>Bot thanne scholde a wisman stiere<br>The Schip, whan suche wyndes blowe:<br>For ferst thogh thei beginne lowe,<br>At ende thei be noght menable,<br>Bot al tobreken Mast and Cable,<br>So that the Schip with sodein blast,<br>Whan men lest wene, is overcast; <br>As now fulofte a man mai se:<br>And of old time how it hath be<br>I finde a gret experience,<br>Wherof to take an evidence<br>Good is, and to be war also<br>Of the peril, er him be wo.<br>Of hem that ben so derk withinne,<br>At Troie also if we beginne,<br>Ipocrisie it hath betraied:<br>For whan the Greks hadde al assaied, <br>And founde that be no bataille<br>Ne be no Siege it myhte availe<br>The toun to winne thurgh prouesse,<br>This vice feigned of simplesce<br>Thurgh sleyhte of Calcas and of Crise<br>It wan be such a maner wise.<br>An Hors of Bras thei let do forge<br>Of such entaile, of such a forge,<br>That in this world was nevere man<br>That such an other werk began. <br>The crafti werkman Epius<br>It made, and forto telle thus,<br>The Greks, that thoghten to beguile<br>The kyng of Troie, in thilke while<br>With Anthenor and with Enee,<br>That were bothe of the Cite<br>And of the conseil the wiseste,<br>The richeste and the myhtieste,<br>In prive place so thei trete<br>With fair beheste and yiftes grete <br>Of gold, that thei hem have engined;<br>Togedre and whan thei be covined,<br>Thei feignen forto make a pes,<br>And under that yit natheles<br>Thei schopen the destruccioun<br>Bothe of the kyng and of the toun.<br>And thus the false pees was take<br>Of hem of Grece and undertake,<br>And therupon thei founde a weie,<br>Wher strengthe myhte noght aweie, <br>That sleihte scholde helpe thanne;<br>And of an ynche a large spanne<br>Be colour of the pees thei made,<br>And tolden how thei weren glade<br>Of that thei stoden in acord;<br>And for it schal ben of record,<br>Unto the kyng the Gregois seiden,<br>Be weie of love and this thei preiden,<br>As thei that wolde his thonk deserve,<br>A Sacrifice unto Minerve, <br>The pes to kepe in good entente,<br>Thei mosten offre er that thei wente.<br>The kyng conseiled in this cas<br>Be Anthenor and Eneas<br>Therto hath yoven his assent:<br>So was the pleine trowthe blent<br>Thurgh contrefet Ipocrisie<br>Of that thei scholden sacrifie.<br>The Greks under the holinesse<br>Anon with alle besinesse <br>Here Hors of Bras let faire dihte,<br>Which was to sen a wonder sihte;<br>For it was trapped of himselve,<br>And hadde of smale whieles twelve,<br>Upon the whiche men ynowe<br>With craft toward the toun it drowe,<br>And goth glistrende ayein the Sunne.<br>Tho was ther joie ynowh begunne,<br>For Troie in gret devocioun<br>Cam also with processioun <br>Ayein this noble Sacrifise<br>With gret honour, and in this wise<br>Unto the gates thei it broghte.<br>Bot of here entre whan thei soghte,<br>The gates weren al to smale;<br>And therupon was many a tale,<br>Bot for the worschipe of Minerve,<br>To whom thei comen forto serve,<br>Thei of the toun, whiche understode<br>That al this thing was do for goode, <br>For pes, wherof that thei ben glade,<br>The gates that Neptunus made<br>A thousend wynter ther tofore,<br>Thei have anon tobroke and tore;<br>The stronge walles doun thei bete,<br>So that in to the large strete<br>This Hors with gret solempnite<br>Was broght withinne the Cite,<br>And offred with gret reverence,<br>Which was to Troie an evidence <br>Of love and pes for everemo.<br>The Gregois token leve tho<br>With al the hole felaschipe,<br>And forth thei wenten into Schipe<br>And crossen seil and made hem yare,<br>Anon as thogh thei wolden fare:<br>Bot whan the blake wynter nyht<br>Withoute Mone or Sterre lyht<br>Bederked hath the water Stronde,<br>Al prively thei gon to londe <br>Ful armed out of the navie.<br>Synon, which mad was here aspie<br>Withinne Troie, as was conspired,<br>Whan time was a tokne hath fired;<br>And thei with that here weie holden,<br>And comen in riht as thei wolden,<br>Ther as the gate was tobroke.<br>The pourpos was full take and spoke:<br>Er eny man may take kepe,<br>Whil that the Cite was aslepe, <br>Thei slowen al that was withinne,<br>And token what thei myhten wynne<br>Of such good as was sufficant,<br>And brenden up the remenant.<br>And thus cam out the tricherie,<br>Which under fals Ypocrisie<br>Was hid, and thei that wende pees<br>Tho myhten finde no reles<br>Of thilke swerd which al devoureth.<br>Fulofte and thus the swete soureth, <br>Whan it is knowe to the tast:<br>He spilleth many a word in wast<br>That schal with such a poeple trete;<br>For whan he weneth most beyete,<br>Thanne is he schape most to lese.<br>And riht so if a womman chese<br>Upon the wordes that sche hiereth<br>Som man, whan he most trewe appiereth,<br>Thanne is he forthest fro the trowthe:<br>Bot yit fulofte, and that is rowthe, <br>Thei speden that ben most untrewe<br>And loven every day a newe,<br>Wherof the lief is after loth<br>And love hath cause to be wroth.<br>Bot what man that his lust desireth<br>Of love, and therupon conspireth<br>With wordes feigned to deceive,<br>He schal noght faile to receive<br>His peine, as it is ofte sene.<br>Forthi, my Sone, as I thee mene, <br>It sit the wel to taken hiede<br>That thou eschuie of thi manhiede<br>Ipocrisie and his semblant,<br>That thou ne be noght deceivant,<br>To make a womman to believe<br>Thing which is noght in thi bilieve:<br>For in such feint Ipocrisie<br>Of love is al the tricherie,<br>Thurgh which love is deceived ofte;<br>For feigned semblant is so softe, <br>Unethes love may be war.<br>Forthi, my Sone, as I wel dar,<br>I charge thee to fle that vice,<br>That many a womman hath mad nice;<br>Bot lok thou dele noght withal.<br>Iwiss, fader, nomor I schal.<br>Now, Sone, kep that thou hast swore:<br>For this that thou hast herd before<br>Is seid the ferste point of Pride:<br>And next upon that other side, <br>To schryve and speken overthis<br>Touchende of Pride, yit ther is<br>The point seconde, I thee behote,<br>Which Inobedience is hote.<br>This vice of Inobedience<br>Ayein the reule of conscience<br>Al that is humble he desalloweth,<br>That he toward his god ne boweth<br>After the lawes of his heste.<br>Noght as a man bot as a beste, <br>Which goth upon his lustes wilde,<br>So goth this proude vice unmylde,<br>That he desdeigneth alle lawe:<br>He not what is to be felawe,<br>And serve may he noght for pride;<br>So is he badde on every side,<br>And is that selve of whom men speke,<br>Which wol noght bowe er that he breke.<br>I not if love him myhte plie,<br>For elles forto justefie <br>His herte, I not what mihte availe.<br>Forthi, my Sone, of such entaile<br>If that thin herte be disposed,<br>Tell out and let it noght be glosed:<br>For if that thou unbuxom be<br>To love, I not in what degree<br>Thou schalt thi goode world achieve.<br>Mi fader, ye schul wel believe,<br>The yonge whelp which is affaited<br>Hath noght his Maister betre awaited, <br>To couche, whan he seith 'Go lowe,'<br>That I, anon as I may knowe<br>Mi ladi will, ne bowe more.<br>Bot other while I grucche sore<br>Of some thinges that sche doth,<br>Wherof that I woll telle soth:<br>For of tuo pointz I am bethoght,<br>That, thogh I wolde, I myhte noght<br>Obeie unto my ladi heste;<br>Bot I dar make this beheste, <br>Save only of that ilke tuo<br>I am unbuxom of no mo.<br>Whan ben tho tuo? tell on, quod he.<br>Mi fader, this is on, that sche<br>Comandeth me my mowth to close,<br>And that I scholde hir noght oppose<br>In love, of which I ofte preche,<br>Bot plenerliche of such a speche<br>Forbere, and soffren hire in pes.<br>Bot that ne myhte I natheles <br>For al this world obeie ywiss;<br>For whanne I am ther as sche is,<br>Though sche my tales noght alowe,<br>Ayein hir will yit mot I bowe,<br>To seche if that I myhte have grace:<br>Bot that thing may I noght enbrace<br>For ought that I can speke or do;<br>And yit fulofte I speke so,<br>That sche is wroth and seith, 'Be stille.'<br>If I that heste schal fulfille <br>And therto ben obedient,<br>Thanne is my cause fully schent,<br>For specheles may noman spede.<br>So wot I noght what is to rede;<br>Bot certes I may noght obeie,<br>That I ne mot algate seie<br>Somwhat of that I wolde mene;<br>For evere it is aliche grene,<br>The grete love which I have,<br>Wherof I can noght bothe save <br>My speche and this obedience:<br>And thus fulofte my silence<br>I breke, and is the ferste point<br>Wherof that I am out of point<br>In this, and yit it is no pride.<br>Now thanne upon that other side<br>To telle my desobeissance,<br>Ful sore it stant to my grevance<br>And may noght sinke into my wit;<br>For ofte time sche me bit <br>To leven hire and chese a newe,<br>And seith, if I the sothe knewe<br>How ferr I stonde from hir grace,<br>I scholde love in other place.<br>Bot therof woll I desobeie;<br>For also wel sche myhte seie,<br>'Go tak the Mone ther it sit,'<br>As bringe that into my wit:<br>For ther was nevere rooted tre,<br>That stod so faste in his degre, <br>That I ne stonde more faste<br>Upon hire love, and mai noght caste<br>Min herte awey, althogh I wolde.<br>For god wot, thogh I nevere scholde<br>Sen hir with yhe after this day,<br>Yit stant it so that I ne may<br>Hir love out of my brest remue.<br>This is a wonder retenue,<br>That malgre wher sche wole or non<br>Min herte is everemore in on, <br>So that I can non other chese,<br>Bot whether that I winne or lese,<br>I moste hire loven til I deie;<br>And thus I breke as be that weie<br>Hire hestes and hir comandinges,<br>Bot trewliche in non othre thinges.<br>Forthi, my fader, what is more<br>Touchende to this ilke lore<br>I you beseche, after the forme<br>That ye pleinly me wolde enforme, <br>So that I may myn herte reule<br>In loves cause after the reule.<br>Toward this vice of which we trete<br>Ther ben yit tweie of thilke estrete,<br>Here name is Murmur and Compleignte:<br>Ther can noman here chiere peinte,<br>To sette a glad semblant therinne,<br>For thogh fortune make hem wynne,<br>Yit grucchen thei, and if thei lese,<br>Ther is no weie forto chese, <br>Wherof thei myhten stonde appesed.<br>So ben thei comunly desesed;<br>Ther may no welthe ne poverte<br>Attempren hem to the decerte<br>Of buxomnesse be no wise:<br>For ofte time thei despise<br>The goode fortune as the badde,<br>As thei no mannes reson hadde,<br>Thurgh pride, wherof thei be blinde.<br>And ryht of such a maner kinde <br>Ther be lovers, that thogh thei have<br>Of love al that thei wolde crave,<br>Yit wol thei grucche be som weie,<br>That thei wol noght to love obeie<br>Upon the trowthe, as thei do scholde;<br>And if hem lacketh that thei wolde,<br>Anon thei falle in such a peine,<br>That evere unbuxomly thei pleigne<br>Upon fortune, and curse and crie,<br>That thei wol noght here hertes plie <br>To soffre til it betre falle.<br>Forthi if thou amonges alle<br>Hast used this condicioun,<br>Mi Sone, in thi Confessioun<br>Now tell me pleinly what thou art.<br>Mi fader, I beknowe a part,<br>So as ye tolden hier above<br>Of Murmur and Compleignte of love,<br>That for I se no sped comende,<br>Ayein fortune compleignende <br>I am, as who seith, everemo:<br>And ek fulofte tyme also,<br>Whan so is that I se and hiere<br>Or hevy word or hevy chiere<br>Of my lady, I grucche anon;<br>Bot wordes dar I speke non,<br>Wherof sche myhte be desplesed,<br>Bot in myn herte I am desesed:<br>With many a Murmur, god it wot,<br>Thus drinke I in myn oghne swot, <br>And thogh I make no semblant,<br>Min herte is al desobeissant;<br>And in this wise I me confesse<br>Of that ye clepe unbuxomnesse.<br>Now telleth what youre conseil is.<br>Mi Sone, and I thee rede this,<br>What so befalle of other weie,<br>That thou to loves heste obeie<br>Als ferr as thou it myht suffise:<br>For ofte sithe in such a wise <br>Obedience in love availeth,<br>Wher al a mannes strengthe faileth;<br>Wherof, if that the list to wite<br>In a Cronique as it is write,<br>A gret ensample thou myht fynde,<br>Which now is come to my mynde.<br>Ther was whilom be daies olde<br>A worthi knyht, and as men tolde<br>He was Nevoeu to themperour<br>And of his Court a Courteour: <br>Wifles he was, Florent he hihte,<br>He was a man that mochel myhte,<br>Of armes he was desirous,<br>Chivalerous and amorous,<br>And for the fame of worldes speche,<br>Strange aventures forto seche,<br>He rod the Marches al aboute.<br>And fell a time, as he was oute,<br>Fortune, which may every thred<br>Tobreke and knette of mannes sped, <br>Schop, as this knyht rod in a pas,<br>That he be strengthe take was,<br>And to a Castell thei him ladde,<br>Wher that he fewe frendes hadde:<br>For so it fell that ilke stounde<br>That he hath with a dedly wounde<br>Feihtende his oghne hondes slain<br>Branchus, which to the Capitain<br>Was Sone and Heir, wherof ben wrothe<br>The fader and the moder bothe. <br>That knyht Branchus was of his hond<br>The worthieste of al his lond,<br>And fain thei wolden do vengance<br>Upon Florent, bot remembrance<br>That thei toke of his worthinesse<br>Of knyhthod and of gentilesse,<br>And how he stod of cousinage<br>To themperour, made hem assuage,<br>And dorsten noght slen him for fere:<br>In gret desputeisoun thei were <br>Among hemself, what was the beste.<br>Ther was a lady, the slyheste<br>Of alle that men knewe tho,<br>So old sche myhte unethes go,<br>And was grantdame unto the dede:<br>And sche with that began to rede,<br>And seide how sche wol bringe him inne,<br>That sche schal him to dethe winne<br>Al only of his oghne grant,<br>Thurgh strengthe of verray covenant <br>Withoute blame of eny wiht.<br>Anon sche sende for this kniht,<br>And of hire Sone sche alleide<br>The deth, and thus to him sche seide:<br>'Florent, how so thou be to wyte<br>Of Branchus deth, men schal respite<br>As now to take vengement,<br>Be so thou stonde in juggement<br>Upon certein condicioun,<br>That thou unto a questioun <br>Which I schal axe schalt ansuere;<br>And over this thou schalt ek swere,<br>That if thou of the sothe faile,<br>Ther schal non other thing availe,<br>That thou ne schalt thi deth receive.<br>And for men schal thee noght deceive,<br>That thou therof myht ben avised,<br>Thou schalt have day and tyme assised<br>And leve saufly forto wende,<br>Be so that at thi daies ende <br>Thou come ayein with thin avys.<br>This knyht, which worthi was and wys,<br>This lady preith that he may wite,<br>And have it under Seales write,<br>What questioun it scholde be<br>For which he schal in that degree<br>Stonde of his lif in jeupartie.<br>With that sche feigneth compaignie,<br>And seith: 'Florent, on love it hongeth<br>Al that to myn axinge longeth: <br>What alle wommen most desire<br>This wole I axe, and in thempire<br>Wher as thou hast most knowlechinge<br>Tak conseil upon this axinge.'<br>Florent this thing hath undertake,<br>The day was set, the time take,<br>Under his seal he wrot his oth,<br>In such a wise and forth he goth<br>Hom to his Emes court ayein;<br>To whom his aventure plein <br>He tolde, of that him is befalle.<br>And upon that thei weren alle<br>The wiseste of the lond asent,<br>Bot natheles of on assent<br>Thei myhte noght acorde plat,<br>On seide this, an othre that.<br>After the disposicioun<br>Of naturel complexioun<br>To som womman it is plesance,<br>That to an other is grevance; <br>Bot such a thing in special,<br>Which to hem alle in general<br>Is most plesant, and most desired<br>Above alle othre and most conspired,<br>Such o thing conne thei noght finde<br>Be Constellacion ne kinde:<br>And thus Florent withoute cure<br>Mot stonde upon his aventure,<br>And is al schape unto the lere,<br>As in defalte of his answere. <br>This knyht hath levere forto dye<br>Than breke his trowthe and forto lye<br>In place ther as he was swore,<br>And schapth him gon ayein therfore.<br>Whan time cam he tok his leve,<br>That lengere wolde he noght beleve,<br>And preith his Em he be noght wroth,<br>For that is a point of his oth,<br>He seith, that noman schal him wreke,<br>Thogh afterward men hiere speke <br>That he par aventure deie.<br>And thus he wente forth his weie<br>Alone as knyht aventurous,<br>And in his thoght was curious<br>To wite what was best to do:<br>And as he rod al one so,<br>And cam nyh ther he wolde be,<br>In a forest under a tre<br>He syh wher sat a creature,<br>A lothly wommannysch figure, <br>That forto speke of fleisch and bon<br>So foul yit syh he nevere non.<br>This knyht behield hir redely,<br>And as he wolde have passed by,<br>Sche cleped him and bad abide;<br>And he his horse heved aside<br>Tho torneth, and to hire he rod,<br>And there he hoveth and abod,<br>To wite what sche wolde mene.<br>And sche began him to bemene, <br>And seide: 'Florent be thi name,<br>Thou hast on honde such a game,<br>That bot thou be the betre avised,<br>Thi deth is schapen and devised,<br>That al the world ne mai the save,<br>Bot if that thou my conseil have.'<br>Florent, whan he this tale herde,<br>Unto this olde wyht answerde<br>And of hir conseil he hir preide.<br>And sche ayein to him thus seide: <br>'Florent, if I for the so schape,<br>That thou thurgh me thi deth ascape<br>And take worschipe of thi dede,<br>What schal I have to my mede?'<br>'What thing,' quod he, 'that thou wolt axe.'<br>'I bidde nevere a betre taxe,'<br>Quod sche, 'bot ferst, er thou be sped,<br>Thou schalt me leve such a wedd,<br>That I wol have thi trowthe in honde<br>That thou schalt be myn housebonde.' <br>'Nay,' seith Florent, 'that may noght be.'<br>'Ryd thanne forth thi wey,' quod sche,<br>'And if thou go withoute red,<br>Thou schalt be sekerliche ded.'<br>Florent behihte hire good ynowh<br>Of lond, of rente, of park, of plowh,<br>Bot al that compteth sche at noght.<br>Tho fell this knyht in mochel thoght,<br>Now goth he forth, now comth ayein,<br>He wot noght what is best to sein, <br>And thoghte, as he rod to and fro,<br>That chese he mot on of the tuo,<br>Or forto take hire to his wif<br>Or elles forto lese his lif.<br>And thanne he caste his avantage,<br>That sche was of so gret an age,<br>That sche mai live bot a while,<br>And thoghte put hire in an Ile,<br>Wher that noman hire scholde knowe,<br>Til sche with deth were overthrowe. <br>And thus this yonge lusti knyht<br>Unto this olde lothly wiht<br>Tho seide: 'If that non other chance<br>Mai make my deliverance,<br>Bot only thilke same speche<br>Which, as thou seist, thou schalt me teche,<br>Have hier myn hond, I schal thee wedde.'<br>And thus his trowthe he leith to wedde.<br>With that sche frounceth up the browe:<br>'This covenant I wol allowe,' <br>Sche seith: 'if eny other thing<br>Bot that thou hast of my techyng<br>Fro deth thi body mai respite,<br>I woll thee of thi trowthe acquite,<br>And elles be non other weie.<br>Now herkne me what I schal seie.<br>Whan thou art come into the place,<br>Wher now thei maken gret manace<br>And upon thi comynge abyde,<br>Thei wole anon the same tide <br>Oppose thee of thin answere.<br>I wot thou wolt nothing forbere<br>Of that thou wenest be thi beste,<br>And if thou myht so finde reste,<br>Wel is, for thanne is ther nomore.<br>And elles this schal be my lore,<br>That thou schalt seie, upon this Molde<br>That alle wommen lievest wolde<br>Be soverein of mannes love:<br>For what womman is so above, <br>Sche hath, as who seith, al hire wille;<br>And elles may sche noght fulfille<br>What thing hir were lievest have.<br>With this answere thou schalt save<br>Thiself, and other wise noght.<br>And whan thou hast thin ende wroght,<br>Com hier ayein, thou schalt me finde,<br>And let nothing out of thi minde.'<br>He goth him forth with hevy chiere,<br>As he that not in what manere <br>He mai this worldes joie atteigne:<br>For if he deie, he hath a peine,<br>And if he live, he mot him binde<br>To such on which of alle kinde<br>Of wommen is thunsemlieste:<br>Thus wot he noght what is the beste:<br>Bot be him lief or be him loth,<br>Unto the Castell forth he goth<br>His full answere forto yive,<br>Or forto deie or forto live. <br>Forth with his conseil cam the lord,<br>The thinges stoden of record,<br>He sende up for the lady sone,<br>And forth sche cam, that olde Mone.<br>In presence of the remenant<br>The strengthe of al the covenant<br>Tho was reherced openly,<br>And to Florent sche bad forthi<br>That he schal tellen his avis,<br>As he that woot what is the pris. <br>Florent seith al that evere he couthe,<br>Bot such word cam ther non to mowthe,<br>That he for yifte or for beheste<br>Mihte eny wise his deth areste.<br>And thus he tarieth longe and late,<br>Til that this lady bad algate<br>That he schal for the dom final<br>Yive his answere in special<br>Of that sche hadde him ferst opposed:<br>And thanne he hath trewly supposed <br>That he him may of nothing yelpe,<br>Bot if so be tho wordes helpe,<br>Whiche as the womman hath him tawht;<br>Wherof he hath an hope cawht<br>That he schal ben excused so,<br>And tolde out plein his wille tho.<br>And whan that this Matrone herde<br>The manere how this knyht ansuerde,<br>Sche seide: 'Ha treson, wo thee be,<br>That hast thus told the privite, <br>Which alle wommen most desire!<br>I wolde that thou were afire.'<br>Bot natheles in such a plit<br>Florent of his answere is quit:<br>And tho began his sorwe newe,<br>For he mot gon, or ben untrewe,<br>To hire which his trowthe hadde.<br>Bot he, which alle schame dradde,<br>Goth forth in stede of his penance,<br>And takth the fortune of his chance, <br>As he that was with trowthe affaited.<br>This olde wyht him hath awaited<br>In place wher as he hire lefte:<br>Florent his wofull heved uplefte<br>And syh this vecke wher sche sat,<br>Which was the lothlieste what<br>That evere man caste on his yhe:<br>Hire Nase bass, hire browes hyhe,<br>Hire yhen smale and depe set,<br>Hire chekes ben with teres wet, <br>And rivelen as an emty skyn<br>Hangende doun unto the chin,<br>Hire Lippes schrunken ben for age,<br>Ther was no grace in the visage,<br>Hir front was nargh, hir lockes hore,<br>Sche loketh forth as doth a More,<br>Hire Necke is schort, hir schuldres courbe,<br>That myhte a mannes lust destourbe,<br>Hire body gret and nothing smal,<br>And schortly to descrive hire al, <br>Sche hath no lith withoute a lak;<br>Bot lich unto the wollesak<br>Sche proferth hire unto this knyht,<br>And bad him, as he hath behyht,<br>So as sche hath ben his warant,<br>That he hire holde covenant,<br>And be the bridel sche him seseth.<br>Bot godd wot how that sche him pleseth<br>Of suche wordes as sche spekth:<br>Him thenkth welnyh his herte brekth <br>For sorwe that he may noght fle,<br>Bot if he wolde untrewe be.<br>Loke, how a sek man for his hele<br>Takth baldemoine with Canele,<br>And with the Mirre takth the Sucre,<br>Ryht upon such a maner lucre<br>Stant Florent, as in this diete:<br>He drinkth the bitre with the swete,<br>He medleth sorwe with likynge,<br>And liveth, as who seith, deyinge; <br>His youthe schal be cast aweie<br>Upon such on which as the weie<br>Is old and lothly overal.<br>Bot nede he mot that nede schal:<br>He wolde algate his trowthe holde,<br>As every knyht therto is holde,<br>What happ so evere him is befalle:<br>Thogh sche be the fouleste of alle,<br>Yet to thonour of wommanhiede<br>Him thoghte he scholde taken hiede; <br>So that for pure gentilesse,<br>As he hire couthe best adresce,<br>In ragges, as sche was totore,<br>He set hire on his hors tofore<br>And forth he takth his weie softe;<br>No wonder thogh he siketh ofte.<br>Bot as an oule fleth be nyhte<br>Out of alle othre briddes syhte,<br>Riht so this knyht on daies brode<br>In clos him hield, and schop his rode <br>On nyhtes time, til the tyde<br>That he cam there he wolde abide;<br>And prively withoute noise<br>He bringth this foule grete Coise<br>To his Castell in such a wise<br>That noman myhte hire schappe avise,<br>Til sche into the chambre cam:<br>Wher he his prive conseil nam<br>Of suche men as he most troste,<br>And tolde hem that he nedes moste <br>This beste wedde to his wif,<br>For elles hadde he lost his lif.<br>The prive wommen were asent,<br>That scholden ben of his assent:<br /</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Gower">John Gower</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420399" data-title="Confessio Amantis. Explicit Prologus de John Gower" data-description="Incipit Liber Primus Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras: Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur, Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope. Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas Plebis ad insidia..."></div> </div> </div>

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